#where the prizes are i do not respond but i Did read it and go yaaaay. i answer it. or i draw something for it

[cowboycatss]

starts clawing at the walls danger days hcs save me danger days hcs

[surftrips]

HEADCANONS — FLIRTY ACADEMIC RIVALS w/ CORIOLANUS SNOW

you're not sure when the rivalry started, but for as long as you could remember, you were always sat next to coriolanus snow in class, whether by assignment or choice. neither of you actually hated the other, it was more a friendly competition born out of your strong feelings for each other that neither of you trusted yourselves with, so you resorted to teasing and playful mockery.

both of you care very much about your academics, snow on his way to win the plinth prize, and you, eager to impress your parents and secure a job in the capitol. when you put two highly ambitious and motivated students next to each other, it was no wonder you were always top of your classes. some people called you the power couple, but you denied the latter half of that term.

"where's your little boyfriend?" sejanus had asked one day. "how many times do i have to tell you, he's not my boyfriend!" you responded. "tell me then, why haven't either of you dated anyone?"

the easy answer to that question, and the one you always resorted to was that you simply had no time for dating right now. never mind the fact that you've been using that excuse for your whole life.

corio, on the other hand, never denied the dating rumors. not because there was any truth to them, but more so to annoy you. "corio, did you tell professor crane we were going to formal together?" "yes, what's wrong?" he feigned innocence. "what's wrong? you told him we were going together! as in boyfriend girlfriend!" "i still don't see the issue."

most days, he drove you crazy. and he probably wasn't even aware of his affect on you. shoulders touching when reading a textbook together, quickly pulling away his hand when your fingers went to turn the page at the same time, pretending not to be flustered on the rare occasion he gave you a compliment.

other times, it was nice to have him sat by your side. for example, the nights when you stayed up late studying often led to you dozing off in class, leaning on corio's shoulder until he gently nudged you off, "hey, sleepyhead. what time did you go to sleep?" he would tease.

the best classes were the ones you took with a professor that you both mutually hated— you could hardly control your laughter when he whispered a remark in your ear, or the shivers that he sent down your spine from being in such close proximity to you.

one time, he found you hiding in a corner of the library after receiving a particularly bad grade on a test. you had abruptly left him in the hallway, claiming that you had an "important phone call" to take, but of course, he knew you well enough to know that something was wrong and you needed space. thirty minutes later, he was pulling you off the floor and taking you out to ice cream.

"my girl," he said, wiping off your tear-stained cheeks. "what can i do to make you feel better?" you had wanted to kiss him right then and there, to resolve the tension between you two once and for all, but you didn't want your first kiss to be under these circumstances.

life in the capitol was not as glamorous as everyone else made it out to be. you faced an immense pressure to perform well, uphold the reputation of your family, and be successful, and most of the time you felt alone and exhausted. but coriolanus was always there for you, when things were good, and especially when things got bad.

[traveler-at-heart]

Run, baby, run

Summary: Natasha is very competitive, and that includes your daughter.

Natasha Romanoff x F!R

Based on some real life events lol

Natasha was a lot of different things for many people. Depending on who you ask -friends, foes, family- she could be stubborn, deadly, relentless. To you she was kind, loving and supportive, in a way that no one else knew.

You would all agree on one thing, though.

Natasha was too competitive.

Being married for three years, you’d grown used to it. As a matter of fact, it could be entertaining especially if she was playing pool or darts against the boys.

But this morning, when she shows you the flyer, you actually have to look twice, sure that Natasha lost her mind.

“Baby crawl race?”

“Yeah, only for babies under one year. You know, they set a track and time them…”

“I mean, I figured. I just… why would we want Anya to do that?”

Your daughter perks up when she hears her name being called and you both smile.

Anya is ten months old, but she’s way advanced for her age. It must be Natasha’s genes, because you’re sure that before she turns one, she will be walking or even running after her other mother.

“It sounds fun”

“And winning has nothing to do with it?” you press, reading about the prizes. “Everything listed here are things we already have. A stroller, a crib… ooh, a formula machine, fancy”

“We can still register if we leave now” Natasha picks up Anya from her playpen, and the sight of their matching red hair melts your heart as usual.

“Fine. We better get going”

—

To your surprise, there are over a dozen babies registered to compete. Natasha takes care of everything as you walk around the store where they’re hosting the event.

She comes back with a smile and a little paper with the number 17 on it.

“Your lucky number” she smiles at you, taking Anya in her arms.

You both watch as other kinds play and stumble around the mat. Most of them seem younger than your daughter, and only a few look close to being one year.

“That one’s gonna be easy to beat” Natasha muses, looking at a small kid that can barely sit.

“Natalia” you slap her arm. “He’s a baby”

“No. They are all competition. And we have no mercy, right, detka?” Natasha insists, bouncing your daughter in her arms.

“Alright, I’m changing her diaper before everything gets crazier” you decide, noticing how there’s a crowd forming around the place where the kids will crawl.

You make small talk with some of the clerks, who seem excited at the prospect of a silly race that will entertain them in the middle of their shift.

By the time you return, Natasha’s quiet, looking at the parents and their children.

“Everything ok?”

“Perfect” she nods, taking Anya in her arms. “Now, kiddo, listen to me, we are Romanoffs. We are fighters and more importantly, winners. So go and make us proud”

Anya responds by giggling and pulling a strand of her mother’s hair. Natasha smiles, saying something in Russian and kissing Anya’s cheek.

The mat is split in half so only two kids can compete at the same time, a screen with a timer behind them.

As expected, some of the kids get distracted by their race mate or crawl around instead of going in a straight line.

“What did I tell you? We’re gonna crush the opponents” Natasha whispers and you slap her arm.

She’s taking this way too seriously.

As you stand next to some parents, Natasha sniffs around, speaking into Anya’s back.

“Baby, did you go potty?”

“I don’t think so” you know Anya frowns and makes a little grunt when she does number two and she’s been pretty quiet this whole time.

“Oh, never mind” she turns to the parents standing next to you. “Not ours, detka”

The parents hurry to the bathroom. There’s a nagging feeling at the back of your mind when you notice how quiet Natasha is. It increases when the parents miss the race because they were stuck chaning a diaper.

Your wife tries to hide her smile, but there’s no way she planned this. Just a coincidence.

Right?

“Babies 10 and 11” the organizer calls. You noticed the girl is older than the other kids, standing out because she can close the distance faster.

“Best time has been 55 seconds. This should be interesting” Natasha comments.

Sure enough, the kid is about to finish when a bright blue ball crosses her path, getting her distracted and making her return to the start line.

The parents try to guide her back but it doesn’t work at all.

“Oh, well”

“Try not to look so happy about it” you whisper, but Natasha just chuckles and places a kiss in your temple.

After a few more minutes, it’s Anya’s turn. You carry her to the start line and Natasha kneels at the end of the mat, keeping her eyes focused on your daughter.

“Three, two, one. Go!”

All Natasha has to do is place her open palm on the mat. Anya’s seen her do it so many times and knows it means one thing: as soon as she touches her mama’s hand, she’ll throw her in the air the way she loves to.

It takes Anya 15 seconds to get to Natasha. Your wife rewards her with her favorite thing, and if it were anyone less graceful and quick, you’d be unnerved by the sight of your daughter kicking her feet while being lifted off the ground.

“Nicely done, pumpkin” you join them, smiling as Anya jumps to your arms.

“A worthy adversary, at last” a man comments as he takes his son to the race. “Let’s see if we can do it better than you”

“Doubt it” Natasha glares but you elbow her, smiling at the man.

“She meant to say, good luck. You’ll do great, sweetheart” you smile at his son, who waves back at you with wide eyes. He’s incredibly cute.

“Fraternizing with the enemy” Natasha tsks.

“He’s a baby, Nat”

“I didn’t like the way the father was looking at you either” Natasha grumbles, leaning forward to kiss you.

Definitely not complaining about her competitive streak now.

As your declared enemy gets ready to race, the father frantically looks around for something lost on their backpack.

“Did you bring it?” his wife insists.

“Yes! The purple elephant! We were playing with it a second ago!”

Apparently, that was their only resource, because the timer starts and their kid is focusing on everything but them.

They manage to finish after two minutes.

“Better luck next time” Natasha comments as they leave, her hand going around your waist.

She’s being so ridiculous but somehow you love it.

The winners are announced, and you cheer when the first place goes to none other than Anya Romanoff.

“Yes, baby. We are the champions” Natasha sings, bouncing her around. Anya has no idea what’s happening, but she’s enjoying the moment.

“Very nice” you comment when the organizers hand you the prize. “Good work, Anya. Keep it up and maybe we won’t have to pay for college”

“Of course she’ll get a scholarship. Or become a professional athlete. Or become president” Natasha says, walking back to the car.

“Oh, those are a lot of things. Maybe she’ll want to focus on just one”

“Nah, she’s got it. She’ll do it all” Natasha kisses Anya’s head and you can’t help but melt.

“Best thing you ever won?” you ask Natasha as you drive back home.

“No, that would be you” she says. “Of course, I mean the bet I made with Tony that I’d get you to date me over him”

“Ugh, you’re so ridiculous” you roll your eyes.

—

The excitement of the race exhausts your daughter, and she’s fast asleep by the time you get home.

You know this won’t last long, so you prepare her clothes to run a bath once she’s up.

As you’re going through her bag, you pull out a toy that’s definitely not Anya’s.

A purple elephant.

“Natalia Alianovna Romanova!” you shout, looking for her.

“Oh-oh” Natasha mutters and clears her throat. “Yes, dear?”

“You took that baby’s toy!”

“I did not! Ok, I did. But look, I timed him when they were practising and Anya’s time was still better. I just really didn’t like the way he was staring at your boobs”

“Mhm, right. Winning was just a plus”

“See? You get me”

“That ball that distracted the other kid was not a mistake either, huh?”

“I don’t know what you mean, darling”

“And the parents that missed the race for changing the diaper?”

“Now, that was just a happy coincidence. The rest, yeah. Totally me”

“Evil! Stealing a toy from a toddler” you wave the purple elephant in her face. Natasha takes it and throws it over her shoulder, wrapping your legs around her waist in a swift motion. “What are you doing?”

“I got you that fancy formula machine, didn’t I? Where’s my prize?”

You laugh against her lips, but it soon turns into a moan, as you feel Natasha’s hands slide down your back to cup your ass.

“Anya's gonna wake up in thirty minutes or less. Can you handle that?”

“I do enjoy a good challenge” Natasha says against your lips, showing you how much she loves to win.

And honestly? After a mind blowing orgasm, you love it too.

[bearprofessorr]

a second chance.

sometimes getting stood up is the only way to find what you really needed.

ship: declan o'hara/fem!reader. tags/warnings: drinking, making out, no y/n. word count: 3.8k.

(crossposted on ao3)

---

The night was young, and you had plans. A date. One of the boys that helped out with the Cotswolds Round-up plucked up the courage to ask you out after a few weeks of idle chatter in the breakroom. You dressed up for the occasion - even if it was only for a drink at the one proper pub in the area. It wasn't often you would be asked out; normally you would be making the first move, hoping that it was reciprocated. Not tonight. 

You arrived slightly before you planned to meet him, wanting a drink to steady your nerves as the clock got closer to 8. you finished your first drink - a simple vodka coke - and looked back at the clock, now reading 8:15. Panic rose in your throat, but you kept it down by ordering another drink. Thankfully, there was a TV behind the bar that you could watch to pass the time, distract yourself and try and convince the other patrons of the pub that you were really enthused by... golf. 

The night continued to pass, and the golf blurred as you stared at the screen instead of watching it. The clock hit 8:45 and you had to swallow the pain of being stood up. You looked around the pub, seeing if anyone was looking at you - no one spared you a glance. There were faces you recognised, some from Corinium's other departments, but none that you spoke to at all; Until you looked down the bar, in a dim corner, noticing Corinium's prized jewel; Declan O' Hara, slowly nursing a glass of whiskey with his eyes just as glazed over as yours were, staring at the TV. Rumours had been circulating around the offices of Declan's wife being scouted for work in London after prized director Malhar Verma was spotted at the O'Hara's New Year's party. Although you knew nothing of Maud personally, she had been in some of your favourite films as a kid, and you were sure her return to the acting world would be well-received. However, from the looks of things, Declan wasn't taking the rumours too well, and from where you were sitting, it was unclear to you whether Declan was even sporting his wedding band. It wasn't as if you could go over and strike up a conversation, though. You had spoken to Declan in passing, mostly because your team helped Cameron with research and analytics - taking the analysis of audience retention and opinions off of her plate so she can do what she's best at. 

Whether he noticed you looking at him was another uncertainty - but you noticed his head move out of the corner of your eye, and you decided to act very interested in the golf again. When he stood up, you took no real notice, until he walked up next to you, got the bartender's attention and ordered another glass of whiskey. 

"Did Tony send you?" He leant his forearms on the bar, looking you over for anything he deemed suspicious behaviour, "'Cause if he did, tell him to fuck off, will you?"

"What?" You asked, more confused than defensive. 

"You work at Corinium, do you not?" Declan mirrored your expression, eyebrows furrowed as he waited for you to respond.

"Yeah, but I'm no spy - promise." You put your hands up in defence, giving Declan a weak smile and a shrug to try and calm his nerves. The bartender came over with Declan's drink before he could speak, so he quickly thanked him and took a long sip before continuing.

"So you just come to the pub - all dolled up and alone, for fun?" 

"I wasn't supposed to be. I got stood up."

"Oh. Sorry..." He awkwardly patted your shoulder, in some kind of apology - or sympathy. 

"Don't be. It was my mistake to assume he was being genuine."

"Men are cunts, take it from me - don't waste your time on them." His mind immediately darted to Rupert Campbell-Black, and his attempts to court his daughter. A small part of him looked at you, noticing you and Taggie appeared similar in age and he chastised himself for the thought. He went to say your name, but realised very visibly that he couldn't recall it, even though he recognised you. You noticed this and held out your hand, introducing yourself like you were taught to.

"I work with Cameron on research." You smiled, appreciating his gentle grip as Declan took you hand in his to shake it, placing his other hand on top to solidify the gesture. "We've actually been in the same meetings for the last month."

"Ah, that explains why I've seen you around - wait, are you-"

"Brainiac, yeah. Tony called me that once - probably not in the nicest way - and it just... stuck." You rolled your eyes at the memory, sighing, detaching your hands to run your fingers through your hair, "But I would prefer for that to stay at work. Obviously."

"Obviously," He parroted, "Of course." He noticed he hadn't reciprocated the greeting, and hated the fact he assumed people knew who he was, "I'm Declan."

"I know that." Declan winced ever so slightly at your response. You smiled without thinking, for the first time that night, "You're the golden goose of the network; and working with Cameron, I do research for your show. I think if I didn't know who you were through all that I'd be kicked to the street."

"Right." Declan chuckled, looking defeated as the conversation fell into a lull. "If you don't mind me asking," He presented the question, his journalistic instincts kicking in, "Who was it you were supposed to be meeting here?"

"Sebastian." The name rang a bell, with Declan recognising him for around the offices, mostly tailing Cameron wherever she went. Before he could make a comment, you spoke back up, "He... well- he said we would meet here and go for dinner, but that clearly isn't happening. I'd rather not dwell on it, if that's alright." You gave a flat smile, taking a long breath to stop the anxieties from crawling back into your mind. "I should have been realistic, he's... he's him, and I'm-"

"Don't sell yourself short. You're a beautiful woman, and it's a pity for him he hadn't recognised that." Declan cut you off, a stern look on his face. He took a moment to truly look at you then, in a way he hadn't dedicated the time to before - what self-respecting married man would spend his time gazing at the women he worked with? 

As much as you would have wanted to believe him, wrap yourself in his kind words, you simply couldn't. What did it matter if you were beautiful if no one was around to treat you as if you were? Actions and words meant very different things - both needed to be true if you wanted to believe it. This came across clearly on your face as you turned away to stare into your glass, both hands interlocked around it on the bar. 

"Thank you, but that doesn't change anything." You sighed, draining the last of your drink into your mouth, pulling your bag onto your shoulder, "I'm sure you didn't come here to comfort my bruised ego - I'll get out of your way so you can actually enjoy your night."

"And what enjoyment do you think I came here for?"

"I don't know," You shrugged, scanning the room before looking back at the TV, "Maybe you just wanted to watch the golf."

He laughed at that, raising his eyebrows in disbelief, leaning his back against the bar as you stepped away from it, "Really?"

"Look, what else am I supposed to say?" You looked down at his hand around his whiskey glass, noticing he was still wearing his ring, but the words came out of your mouth before you could hold them back, "That you've come here to drown out your troubles? I'm not like you, Declan, I don't pry."

He noticed your eyes dip from his, and a part of him wanted to hear you say his name again, in that perfect accent of yours. It was that same part of him that he kept locked away for fear of turning into the men he criticised. The small glint in his eye at that quickly disappeared, not without you noticing. "Maybe you should. You'd learn a lot about a person that way."

"You look like you're dying to tell me why you're actually here," You stood your ground, relaxing your posture, "so, go ahead."

"I wouldn't say dying to, but if you insist-" Declan teased, shrugging while he gestured with his glass for you to sit back down, but when you didn't, he nodded to acknowledge your lack of action and continued, "I came here to avoid Taggie sitting me down and trying to stop me from falling into 'old habits'." He exaggerated with the curl of his fingers. 

"Old habits like the one in your hand?"

"Bingo."

"Maybe you should listen to your daughter, Declan."

"Maybe you should mind your own business, darling." He mocked, enjoying the anger that immediately rose to your face, only to be concealed - except the lingering red around your ears.

"You're the one who-" You scoffed, noticing the smile playing on Declan's face and taking an audible breath, turning on your heel, "Forget it. Enjoy your habits, just try not to leave when the bar closes - makes you look like you have a problem."

"It's only a problem if I leave alone." Declan called out to you, and he watched as you stopped mid-step and placed your foot down delicately.

You paused, still facing the door, hands tensing as you considered your options. There were two ways this could go, if you stayed - and misread his signals, you go home disappointed. If you're right about the undertone of his words, and you stay, you can forget Sebastian and enjoy some good company - maybe more.  Already having been disappointed by one man tonight, the only way that has the potential to change is if you stay. 

"Is that so?" You turned, your head tilting to emphasise the playful nature of your question. "In my mind that would just be two people fuelling each other's addictions, but if you'd prefer I stay to make sure you get home in one piece-"

"I can take care of myself, you wouldn't need to carry me home." He paused, "If anything, the opposite's more likely."

"I think you underestimate how many people I've drunk under the table who've thought they can hold a light to my drinking prowess." You were bluffing - you'd only competed against one person, who was already pissed and was half-way to the bathroom after the first drink. 

"And you're the one saying I've got a habit? Looks like you've been practicing yourself."

"Only on weekends." You joked, and by the look on his face, it was clear Declan understood you were playing up your tolerance, and made space for you at the bar as you stepped closer.

"Right." He chuckled, "It's not for sport, then?"

"You could say it's more a hobby." You smiled, taking your seat facing Declan, while leaning an arm on the bar. "There's not much else to do out here."

"It's fair to indulge every so often." He gestured with his glass to the bartender for another round, taking the last sips from it, "Less destructive than hunting."

You rolled your eyes, the reminders of your summer job at a range leaving a sour taste in your mouth that was quickly replaced with a drink. "It's a hobby for assholes with delusions of grandeur, as far as my interactions with them have gone."

"So, the whole of Cotchester?" Declan raised an eyebrow, eyes following yours.

"Unfortunately so." 

"I'm certain you've heard everything there is to know, then?"

"Not that isn't already common knowledge."

"You'd be surprised - like how we all 'know' about Cameron and Tony-" The commonplace gossip slipped from Declan's mouth before he could think, but since it was only to another Corinium member, he realised it was safe to speculate. When you cut him off to fill the rest of his sentence, he breathed out a small sigh of relief.

"But his wife's none the wiser, yes I'm aware. I don't have the protections you do to go around telling everyone's business to any ears that'll listen." You shook your head, relaxing it to rest on your hand, propped up on the bar.

"Now, what's that supposed to mean?"

"You're Declan O' Hara. Your whole schtick is digging up people's pasts, making a living off of the skeletons in their closets." You accused with a flourish, taking a long sip from your glass.

"Not always."

"But you have, right? Like with Rupert - you didn't say what it was but I know for a fact you had something catastrophic." There was a sparkle in your eye at that, the thrill of the chase, Declan knew that tone - he used it himself when he knew he had someone pinned. Backed into a corner, ready to strike. "You reached for something. I saw. Twice during that interview when you were readying yourself for the question, you reached," You reached across, poking the side of his chest. "Right there, for your blazer pocket."

"I was bluffing - to throw him off, and it worked like a charm." Declan brushed your hand away, lightly closing his hand over yours. Your heart fluttered at the contact, "Now, if I did have something on Rupert, as soon as I made the choice not to say it on air, that information never really existed."

"Because of your daughter?"

The question caused him to pause, the words hanging in the air. 

"What?" He tried to regain his balance, his gut tossing itself to the side. Thankfully, you didn't notice, and kept talking to fill the silence. 

"I overheard people talking about her bursting into the building to track him down during the break - did she know?" You interrupted yourself, "Was that what you were going to expose him for?"

Declan shook his head, trying his best to mask the disdain he felt for Rupert's advances on Taggie, "No, there wasn't anything to expose. Rupert's life has been incredibly public, everything I said was already out there, public knowledge."

"Tony and Cameron public or actually public?"

"Front page of 'The Times' public."

"Hmm." You didn't look fully convinced, but dropped the subject simply because of the look Declan was giving you - stern, final. "You two seem... friendly."

"We are." Declan agreed, adding with a knowing smile, "He's better than people assume he is - once he comes back down to earth." 

You chuckled at that, knowing the stories that filtered through the area of his specific brand of ego. The alcohol had fully seeped into your bloodstream now, if the dull pulse of your heartbeat in the back of your head was anything to go by. The lights seemed to shine a little brighter, haloing Declan in a warm glow. You didn't say anything, didn't feel the need to. You simply stared, observing how in the silence, Declan turned to face ahead of him, leaving you with the side profile of his face. He was tired, that much was evident - the light beginnings of unshaved stubble rising on his cheeks, a similar shade to the bags under his eyes, half-hooded eyes that threatened to close without forceful blinks every so often. It was only once you hand made contact with the side of his face that you realised it had moved to brush against his cheek, a slow, soft movement with the backs of your fingers. Declan moved his eyes before his head, an equally soft look and light glisten of water in them as they noticed the touch. 

Your eyes widened, your hand froze, you took in a short breath and held it tight in your chest. As soon as your hand twitched to move back, his rushed to hold it, trying to form the sentences in his mind to express what had made his heart stutter. All that came out of his mouth, like a plea, was the simple question;

"Can I kiss you?" 

You barely had time to process your head nodding, your instincts answering for you, before his lips met with yours for the first time. The first thing you noticed was how he tasted, of whiskey and cigarettes, combining with the scents of cedarwood - it was addicting to say the least. He pulled back, Declan's hand lingering on your cheek. Your eyes looked into his to try and find any hint of hesitation, of regret, and found none.

It was the light jeering of a table off in the corner that took you both out of the moment, made you duck to hide your blushing face from the other patrons of the bar. 

"Don't listen to them," Declan used the hand on your cheek to guide your face to look back at him, "They're only playing around."

"It's hard not to, not when I can feel them looking at me-" You cut yourself off, draining the rest of your glass. It was almost abrupt, the way you stood, grabbing your bag. Declan put a hand on your arm, trying to slow you down, and you answered his question with your own before he was able to ask it, "Are you coming or not?"

It took a moment for his mind to catch up, but as soon as he met your eyeline again, saw the light reflect in them, he nodded and slid his hand down your arm to lace your fingers together - the bar had his card on file, they would charge what they wanted. Frankly, he couldn't give a shit about how much he had spent, all he wanted was to follow you wherever you decided to go. That was good enough for you, and the pair of you left the bar to light cheers from the same table as before. As soon as you were outside, as soon as Declan knew there were no more eyes on you but his, he pulled you closer, feeling the goosebumps from the chilled air on your skin.

Declan's eyes were focused on your lips, physically restraining himself from devouring you there. You took the initiative in a rare moment of confidence, hovering over his lips before pressing them together, breaking apart for a moment only to return open-mouthed, deepening the kiss; His hands rushed to pull you closer, tangling into your hair and around your waist, fabric bunching under his grip. You pulled away, the chill of the night forcing you out of the moment. Declan chased your lips with his, instead electing to brush their noses together before pressing his forehead to yours. "What's wrong, darling?"

You smiled at that, had to stop yourself from breaking down into a puddle of laughter at how soft the situation had turned, "I- We might freeze to death out here if every ten paces you stop and-" You dodged his lips again, turning your head so they pressed against your cheek, still giggling all the while "-God, if you don't let us actually get to where we're going, I'll never forgive you."

It was almost childlike, how Declan pleaded with you, how his round brown eyes tracked yours, "I'll keep you warm, sweetheart, I swear."

"Declan-"

"No-" He interrupted, running his hands down your arms, interlocking your fingers once he reached your hands.

"As much as I would love to take your word for it, I can't feel my hands right now."

"They're fucking freezing." Declan commented, pressing both of your hands together so he could cup his around them in some attempt to warm them up. 

And at that moment, the bright lights from the unfortunate turn of a car into the driveway of the pub caught you both off guard, and something in your gut felt the need to make significant distance between you and Declan. Luckily so, since as the car pulled up, Declan recognised it and winced, knowing what was going to happen already. Not Taggie, but Rupert stepped out of the family's car first, with his daughter in the passenger's seat. 

"Fuck."

"Declan! Man of the hour, thought I'd find you rotting away here!" Rupert cheerily leant on the bonnet of the car, a shit-eating grin on his face as he crossed his arms. "Look, I'm not one to judge what a man does with his time but-"

"Fuck off Rupert." Declan rolled his eyes, pulling his blazer across himself. You were glad you hadn't been noticed, and tried to just start walking home when Rupert lifted himself off the car and walked with a brisk pace to step in front of you.

"Not so fast, sweetheart." He placed a gentle hand on your shoulder, not quite meeting your eye, "I know the last thing you want to do is talk, but I'm not about to stand here and let you walk home by yourself."

He turned around to look back at the car, watching how Taggie had stepped out and was standing face-to-face with her dad, chastising him for staying out so late. Declan looked over for a moment, offered a small wave to you and Rupert and resigned himself to the justified beratement from his daughter - he knew in the bottom of his heart that she was right, but drinking was the easy way out and they both knew that. 

Taggie carted him into the front seat of the passenger's side, and beckoned Rupert over with a stern but tired look on her face. Rupert patted you on the shoulder, leaving you with a small, "Just one second, alright?" before jogging over to Taggie. You couldn't hear what they were saying, but with the vague gestures that Rupert made to you and the glances you caught from Taggie, you assumed they were talking about you. It made you want to dissolve, but that was the risk you took. And, at the end of the day, you were glad of the rest of the night you had, even if it ended prematurely.

Rupert, ever the gentleman, walked you the 30 minutes home, in relative silence. He broke it only to ask your name and if you were alright, both questions that you answered with the least information required. 

After a particularly awkward walk, you got to your door, and as you fumbled with your keys, you paused, took a breath and turned to face Rupert. "Look, I don't want this to become a whole ordeal-"

"Don't worry, I won't tell a soul." Rupert smiled, and it looked more genuine than the ones he flashed on Declan's show, "Your secret is safe with me." He reassured, nodding goodnight as you disappeared into your house to sneak into bed, alone.

[xoxochb]

Ok, could I PLEASE get a Leo x fem!reader fan fic where they're best friends but both want to be more (maybe they kiss...idk) ??? Pls, I'm desperate. There's not enough Leo fanfics and you're such a good writer.

— astronomy nerd

warnings: leo has W rizz 💯 (do people still say this?) pairing: leo valdez x fem! reader

“well anyways, there is no sound in space because there’s no atmosphere to carry the sound vibrations. It’s really cool if you think about it. are you thinking about it? whatever, did you know the sunsets on mars are blue? how cool is that?! and one million earths could fit in the sun, isn’t that awesome! just imagine that, the sun is huge, I mean seriously-”

your voice trails off forever, you had been talking non stop about miscellaneous outer space facts since leo had walked into your cabin and caught you reading a planet book. it’s not that he hated listening to you talk, gods no, he would listen to you talk for hours on end without a stop but in this particular moment he found himself distracted by the bright smile adorning your lips, he can’t seem to tear his eyes away. and with you being too busy caught up in your space talk you fail to realize leo hadn’t been listening

but you did, however, finally take notice when you ask him a question and he doesn’t respond, stuck in some kind of daze. you call out his name three times before snapping your fingers in front of his eyes, making them widen and his cheeks flush red

“you weren’t listening” you point out

“I’m sorry I- uhm, I’ll listen now. sorry”

you sigh. “what do you think about creating life on mars?”

creating…life? it doesn’t even take a second for leo’s brain to go from concentrating on your words to imagining creating life within you, forget fucking mars, when you’re older and leave camp preferably married with kids. with your good looks and his humor that’d be one hell of a child! he can’t suppress the widening grin, which you additionally notice

“you’re not listening again! what are you thinking about?”

“I think you should!”

your brows furrow at the late reply to your question. “okay… well I surely can’t. but the scientists at nasa know that mars has water so really if you think about it we need to bring seeds from earth to mars and we can build trees, y’know? then that will create oxygen— mars has a very thin atmosphere meaning you can’t breathe on it, but if you just put this huge tent around it the oxygen would start flowing and you’d be able to breathe. does that make sense?”

“what would the tent do if there’s no atmosphere on mars though?”

“I watched a movie about it once… but… you make a good point” you frown, realizing your information had gotten mixed. leo mirrors your expression when he realizes he had upset you. the aura of the room suddenly becomes very awkward

don’t say something stupid don’t say something stupid don’t say something stupid-

leo’s mouth fails him. “what does a star win in a competition?”

your lips twitching upwards was worth the idiotic joke he’s about to respond to

“a constellation prize”

“I have another! what type of music do planets sing?”

“what type?”

“nep-tunes!”

your laugh progresses. “where did you find these jokes?”

(the second he found out you liked astronomy and outer space he had researched like crazy so he could come up with the best jokes possible to impress you). he shrugs. “I made them myself”

“really?”

oh gods he hopes the blush on his face isn’t visible. “yeah…”

“you should be, like, a stand up comedian or something. you’re really good”

okay, yeah, he’s gonna put a ring on it the first chance he can get (your wedding has been elaborately planned already, he keeps the plans hidden underneath his mattress). with your smile as bright as the stars, eyes reflections of the moon, your hair cascading over your shoulders like the sunset over the evening sky, extremely captivating to the eyes of the silly son of hepheastus. he hoped he didn’t look like a lovesick puppy right now, staring at you like this, yet he’s surprised to find your gaze mirrors his. oh no

no no no. leo prays to ever god and goddess he’s aware of that you can’t visible see his cherry red cheeks or his smile of contentment

“do you think there’s more than one universe?” he blurts out

“of course. why?”

“because I think I’d love you all the same in every one regardless of our forms”

good gods of olympus your heart skips a beat or two. act casual

“even if I was a worm?”

“I’d build you a terrarium”

“If I was a star?”

“I’d place myself next to you”

you shouldn’t be tearing up at the thought of this but you can’t help the drops of salty water that fall from your eyes. “In every universe would you be staring at my lips instead of listening to what I’m saying?”

“if your lips always look this kissable, then yes”

oh gods oh gods oh gods oh gods so this is really happening? this is real life? surely, truly?

“leo, can I-”

“please”

you suck in a breath and whisper, “I’ve never done this before”

“I haven’t either”

very slowly, almost like neither of you had moved at all, you lean in until your lips finally meet in the middle at last. not just the first kiss, because this surely was not going to be the last

[achaoticeternal]

a presentation

word count: 750 summary: finding aemond admiring the throne once more, you tell him of your wish to simply be his wife again a/n: just a quick drabble to get some writing going again. not proofread. this is based off the song the greatest by billie eilish

All my love and patience Unappreciated You said your heart was jaded You couldn't even break it

The mass of swords welded together to form the Iron Throne loomed over the Throne Room. Its' magnificence was equally spectacular yet terrifying. An item that represented unity and obedience melded together by fire and death.

It was a seat many had craved over time. Yet she saw the jagged edges that had nicked King Viserys, then Aegon... and soon Aemond would be subjected to it. She had dreamed of it only nights prior.

Her husband ascends the Throne before a mass of nobles and common folk alike. A wolfish smile invades the faces of those surrounding them. Yet when he took his seat with the Conqueror's crown high on his silken hair, an undulled sword from the arm of the chair would slice his palm open. The princess had felt it an omen, an even darker one after Meleys had been carted through the street. The dream was the only thing to replay in her mind as she approached where Aemond now stood. His eyes flickered our the steel of swords stuck together permanently. She always sensed his hunger for power and prayed that his thirst did not come at the cost of blood or their marriage. But the gods paid little favor to them. "It is late," She called out to him, "We should be sleeping." Aemond hummed, acknowledging her comment. He cocked his head to the side, not quite looking at her as his eye remained fixated on the Throne, "We shall be standing up there tomorrow."

The princess swallowed, only to take another step forward as she responded, "You. You will be up there tomorrow. I will be perched next to your mother or Helaena. Either hearing prayers for Aegon's ailments or your ascension." A small, playful smirk painted his lips, "I'm sure I could order a seat to be placed near my feet. So that I may present to the court all my prizes: the Throne, the Crown, the perfect Wife."

Her lips tugged downward, disgust lining her stomach, "Will you dress me and braid my hair too? Paint my face to make my skill look porcelain?"

The Prince Regent finally turned to face her, "Do not use such a tone with me, wife. You have nothing to complain about as I have built you a perfect life." The air between them went stagnant as her eyes remained fixed on them. You face betrayed nothing of what you felt which shocked your husband. He had always been able to read you so plainly, it was something he even enjoyed in your relationship.

"A perfect life?" The princess repeated her words, "Will you put me in a glass display and title it 'A Perfect Life?'?

Aemond's jaw tightened and he took a great step toward her, "I have proven myself to be the greatest Targaryen since Maegor himself and yet you look at me like a villain. This will make people see. This will make people fear me and regret their spineless actions. Now they have no choice but to love and respect their new King."

"And yet I did all of that when you were just Aemond," She barked back at him, her own hurt and anger slipping through, "I respected you, I listened to you, I loved you... for just being a prince- no, just being a boy." "Wife, I-" He attempted to interject.

"I am not finished," The princess stopped him, "I have played the part of your wife, perfectly. I provided you with love, comfort, hospitality, my spirit, my body. I never asked for you to give more of yourself than you could because I knew what a fragile heart you keep locked away. But I am not some pet or doll to be displayed as another prize of your ambition. I am your wife, and you could at least let me enjoy that duty. I only ever wanted to show you love."

At her speech, Aemond had fallen silent. His hands rested behind hs back, silently fidgeting with his leather cuffs. All was still.

"It is late," Aemond finally spoke, "You should get some rest. I will join you in our chambers when I have wrapped up my duties for the evening."

"Very well," The princess swallowed back her pain, once more feeling powerless. She turned on her heels and exited.

I shouldn't have to say it You could've been the greatest

[bonbonly]

I need more college au max and physio trainee! What would happen if you didn’t listen to his instruction about not giving any other patient the same treatment? You figured if it was working for max, surely it would work for the other guys. you didn’t get to blow anyone else off, just suggested it but your supervisor walked in before anything could happen. max hears about it. He pretends to be hurt again, and you’re already on your knees, ready to treat him like usual but he pulls you up and sets you over his knee, he spanks your ass and your cunt many times, teaching you a lesson that you’ll only touch and suck his cock, and just to be safe, as another “punishment” he fucks you right then and there, telling you that if you let anyone else in your pussy but him, your next punishment would be even worse.

and when i tell you i started giggling a maniac reading this I-

bon's thoughts (18+)

it was just a normal monday morning. dr. bentley was running a bit late, and your first patient happened to be a good friend of max! you were more than delighted to see patients that were friends with your other patients, because maybe then you could build connections and gain a good reputation! problem was, max's friend had probably been out with a girl right before his appointment with you, and his boner refused to leave. you glance down at his shorts, connecting the dots in your head. well, max did tell you to never treat someone like you treated him, BUT who were you to deny your patient the care they deserved?

"you want me to fix that for you?" you ask, pointing at the outline of his cock and max's friend stares at you, jaw dropping at your words. there's no way you just offered to give him a blow job in a health clinic? and before he can even respond, dr. bentley opens the door and he smiles at you,

"ah! my trainee! you can take a break you know? always showing up, go get yourself a treat!" and you smile at your mentor, exiting the room completely unaware that max's friend was about to have the wildest story when he got back to his dorm.

"she asked... to fix your.... boner?" max swivels in his gaming chair, staring at his friend.

"yeah man, she wanted to suck me off! it was so weird, who even does that? i wasn't gonna complain though, because i figured... well, i felt bad," max's friend confesses and max's face hardens, he's seething that you were so stupid enough to go against what he asked. he sighs, opening his computer to book another physio appointment with you, specifically on a day where dr. bentley was gone for a medical conference.

when you get the file that max is your patient, you're so happy to see him! your prized patient, your very first patient, and you were so grateful that you got to treat him. he's sitting on a chair in the room, crossing his arms when you lock the door (just like he always told you to!) and rush over to set his file on a table besides him. you're on your knees, "same like last time?" you ask, smiling.

"no," max reciprocates your smile for a split second, before his face falls and he grabs your arms, throwing you over his lap.

"w-wait what's-" your question's cut off by a firm smack on your ass that makes you instantly shut up.

"i just don't get it, I tell you... I tell you to only give the treatment to me and no one else, to only suck my cock and no one else's, but here you were trying to do it to my friend," max tears your leggings off of you, grabbing a fistful of your ass before harshly smacking it once more. his hand burns against your skin, and tears prickle at the corner of your eyes,

"i-i was only trying to help!" you whimper, earning another harsh smack. he listens to your choked sobs, and flips you over on your back so that you could look him in the eye,

"help? you call that help? help is what you do to me, because that treatment only works on me, no one else!" he glances over at your panties, rubbing his knuckles against your clothed cunt that makes you close your legs on instinct. he's never touched you like this before! max scoffs, shaking his head, "oh, so you won't spread your legs for me, hm? but i'll bet you do it for every other patient right? because you're just so helpful, aren't you?"

his words don't seem to make any sense to you, but he brings your panties down to your ankles, and rubs slow, teasing circles on your clit that has you bucking into the palm of his hand,

"max, t-that feels so good!" you whine out loud, but he pulls back and slaps your cunt. you shriek out loud, which causes him to clamp a hand around your mouth, slapping your puffy folds more.

"count this as your punishment, if I see or even hear you touching or sucking anyone's cock other than mine? this is what will happen, you understand?"

"y-yes, max, i apologize," you whisper, nodding your head through small tears. max raises an eyebrow, eyes drifting down from that tight shirt you always wore to your wet, dripping cunt. he bites his lips, shaking his head,

"i don't think you learned your lesson, yet," he sighs, and you begin to freak out, of course you learned your lesson! you were always willing to help him and only him! "i might switch to another trainee, or go somewhere else for my physio appointments."

"no, no, no max! max, no!" you cry out, "no, I promise I'll do anything! i'm so sorry, I won't ever think about sucking someone's cock unless it's yours! please don't leave, I need one patient letter of recommendation before the semester ends!"

max has you right where he wants, and he tilts his head, "is that so? well, you're going to have to prove it to me, then, right? show me how you'll take care of me enough so i won't leave your appointments."

you're scrambling off him, desperate to get down and suck his cock just so that he could stay, but he catches your wrist, tutting his tongue, "oh, schatje, not this time, remember? no, I think I need to make sure you learned your lesson for good."

he doesn't really care how unsanitary the cold tile floor is, as long as it's a bit uncomfortable so you understood the lesson, he's more than happy to fuck you. he's watching your head toss and turn, having never felt something so intense in your life as he's drilling his cock into your poor cunt. you're milking him again and again, and he doesn't seem to stop anytime soon. his lips bite into your neck, your shoulder, the valley of your tits, and he even tugs your nipples with his teeth, watching you squirm and cry, "max, 's too much! 's too much!"

"well, you should've thought that before, schatje. the rule for your mouth applies for your pussy as well, if i find out you've spread your legs for any guy, and let him into your sweet cunt, i'll punish you worse... far worse." he warns you, gripping onto your waist as he pulls out and slams right back into you. your wails are quickly silenced by his mouth on you, tongue delving into explore as much it could.

when you open the patient review an hour or two later, max left a comment:

"she's good, could be a bit better but she's good... i'll see her more next week and see if she's improved"

and that's enough for you to never ever think about someone else taking your pussy, even if it would help with their treatment.

[taesanluv3r]

at the fair.

kim leehan x reader

established relationship, some suggestive comments (? ish), leehan argues with a little girl, very very cuteness. lowercase intended, excuse any spelling mistakes / grammatical errors.

wc: 2,248

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖

"you're gonna love it!"

yn smiles at her boyfriend's happy expression, leehan's eyes had turned into little lines, a grin on his face as he went on and on about this neighbourhood fair he had just been dying to take her to. every year, for one whole month during the summer time, the park just down the street magically transforms into some sort of a theme park. the boy had been going there ever since he were a small child, and after dating for the past five or so months, he had been counting down the days until summer had finally arrived onto his doorstep, just so he could share a little bit of his childhood with her.

and that's how they got here. standing with arms intertwined as they waited for heart-shaped their cotton candy to be twirled onto its stick, their stomachs still turning as a result of the thrilling ride they had just gotten off of. "thank you so much" yn says, retrieving the sugary treat into her hands, pulling out a chunk of the soft candy before turning slightly to pass it over into her boyfriend's opened mouth. "ugh" she winced in disgust when his tongue accidentally came in contact with tips of her fingers. the boy chuckles, pressing a chaste kiss against her cheek. "ferris wheel?" he asked, a single eyebrow cocked up as he did so, head tilted over to the large carnival ride. she nods excitedly, "ferris wheel!"

the pair waits in line once again, finishing up the last off their short-lived treat before tossing it into the large silver trashcan to their left. "you know..." yn starts, staring up at the moving wheel that was beginning to slow down to a stop. "i've always wanted to make-out on a ferris wheel" her eyes wander over to him as she ends her sentence, batting her eyelashes almost annoyingly. leehan rolls his eyes before pulling her into his arms, "i feel like you always want to make-out in unconventional places" the couple shares another light laugh, separating from each other as the guard welcomed them onto one of the worryingly squeaky carts of the fair attraction.

"well that was fun" the boy says, wiping the bits of her lip gloss that stained against the grin on his lips. "yeah, we should definitely do that again" his girlfriend responds, slightly out of breath. the young couple get off the ride, holding hands as they waltzed around the grounds of the park once again. "we should play some games now...i need a new plushie for my collection!" yn's statement makes him giggle, "you are such a child" but his actions contradict his words, pulling the girl slightly as he wordlessly makes his way to the row of playing games on the other side of the fair. "which one do you want to play, love?" she ponders for a moment, eyes moving to scan through each and every one of the stands available. yn was about to speak, finally choosing a game, but she is interrupted by his gasp. before she could even ask him what was wrong, the girl found herself being tugged away and over to a light blue stand in the corner.

"where are we going?" her question answers itself when she is met with a large, light-up sign above her head. a sign that read:

fisherman's paradise! catch some fish, win a prize!

a sea themed game. how fitting for her fish-loving boyfriend. the pair watched as two players went against each other. the whole purpose of the game was to use the magnetic hooks to grab as many robotic fish as possible from the small plastic pool in the middle. whoever got the most fish by the end of the 2 minute mark, was named winner and got to choose a sea-themed toy from the prize wall. yn could see the excited smile that begun to grow on her boyfriend's face, his eyes were shimmering like he had just seen his wildest dreams come true. at the same time, leehan looked focused, as if he were calculating every move he would have to make to win later when it was his turn. finally, after what felt like the longest two minutes in the world, the boy was up. a prideful laugh escaped his lips at the sight of his opponent; a little girl, adorned in a thick, red wig and the worst excuse for a mermaid costume he had ever seen. his smile was washed away however when the child in front of him stuck her little tongue out, stained blue from the artificial colouring of the ice cone she probably just had. "you're going down, loser!" her voice was high-pitched and squeaky, as expected from someone that tiny. yn can't help but laugh from behind him, watching in amusement as her boyfriend shared petty trash-talk with a girl who's height didn't even make it past his long legs.

"the only one going down is you, little girl"

the tired looking teenager who ran the booth waved a flag, signalling that their two minutes had begun. yn watched in disbelief as leehan deprived his tiny opponent of all her robotic fish, a nasty smirk on his face as he had fun doing so. the little girl looked horrified, her eyebrows furrowing as the older boy took her victory far far away. ding! their time was up, leehan lifting his fists up in the air at his obvious win. he looked over at his girlfriend happily before pulling her into a hug, she chuckled lightly as she pressed a kiss onto his jaw. now he had to pick his prize, contemplating all too seriously at his choices. "i want the jellyfish" yn whispers, pointing at the angry looking plush toy that seemed to be calling her name. but the boy just scoffs, "what do you mean you want the jellyfish. it's my prize, and i'll take that one" the girl's mouth drops open, a sigh escaping from it as she watches her boyfriend gleefully accept the catfish shaped doll, his favourite, the corydoras. "and i'm the child" yn complains, rolling her eyes at a very joyful leehan, their arms intertwining again as they began to walk away from the game stand.

"STOP RIGHT THERE!" an all too familiarly squeaky voice stops them in their tracks, the couple twirling around to be met with none other than the little girl from earlier. "you, mister! you're a cheater! that prize was supposed to be mine!" her small face was squished into an angry expression, her arms crossed over her chest and her lips puckered out into a dramatic pout. leehan snorts, bending down slightly to be nearer to her. "i won fair and square! so don't be such a sore loser" yn could not believe her ears or her eyes, there was no way her boyfriend who she loved and adored so much was seriously arguing with a five year old! over a fish game! the child's angry face turns into that of a smug look, a spritz of her own spit coming out as she spoke up once again. "you probably don't even like fish as much as me" the girl spat, her eyes closing shut and her tiny head tilting upwards. the tall boy's girlfriend slaps herself in the head, why would she say that? doesn't she know the consequences of her actions? where were her parents at this moment? god, help us all. yn tries to pull her boyfriend away before he could cause any more of a scene, but he just shrugs her arm off, a knowing and cocky look painted over his complexion as he looks the poor child right in the eyes.

"well what's your favourite fish then? since you know so much about them" oh god. the five year old lifts her chubby arms in the air, "obviously flounder from the little mermaid!" her miniature eyes roll to the back of her head, pointing down at her outfit so as to say 'duh!'. leehan is about to burst into tears of laughter, "well what kind of fish is he then?" all of a sudden the chatty child falls silent, and the boy has just about the meanest look on his face. "he's actually, a pterophyllum scalare, also known as an angelfish" in the moment the boy looked like he just won a lottery, smirking proudly with his chest puffed out in glory. his girlfriend let's out another loud sigh, making a mental note to never let her boyfriend around children ever again.

the atmosphere changes however, when a whimper escapes the little girl's lips. the couples' eyes darting straight towards her as she begins to cry real tears. "leehan, you made the poor kid cry!" yn exclaims, finally smacking his upside his head. "why is she crying! i was just telling her a simple fish fact!" the boy yells back in terror, "she's a child?!" amidst the young pair's argument, the red wig wearing girl's wailing gets louder, her cries going from incoherent mumbles to begging for her mommy. the couple is in panic mode, not really understanding what they should do at a situation like this, and not really wanting to get in trouble with the kid's parents. "what do we do?" leehan asks, his hands pressed against the top of his head. "i don't know babe, just give her the doll so she stops crying!" yn responds, her tone getting louder to overpower the sound of the wailing child. "but i won it! fair and square!" the girl rolls her eyes at the stupid frown played against her boyfriend's lips, showing no remorse as she forcefully pulled the fish-shaped plushie out of his hands.

"here, stop crying and take this, okay?" yn's tone became hushed as she bent down to level with the tearful girl, juxtaposing the way she shouted at her partner just a second ago. "don't mind him, he's just a big ol' meanie, right? so stop crying, okay?" the kid takes the doll in her tiny hands, sniffling as her tears came to an end. "mkay" the kid mumbles and yn can't help but smile softly. "i love your mermaid outfit, by the way. you look just like ariel, so pretty" now the little girl was grinning ear to ear, seemingly beginning to forget about the tantrum she just threw. "you're pretty too, lady. but...why are you dating such an asshole?" the wind is knocked out of the girl, and her boyfriend who stood listening closely, at the child's harsh choice of vocabulary. yn stops herself from laughing out loud, sighing as she patted a hand through the smaller one's red wig. "i promise he isn't always like that...he's just...very passionate about sea life, that's all" leehan catches himself smiling unconsciously as he watched his girl make soft conversation with his tiny enemy, but his thoughts are interrupted by the sound of a female voice calling out for their child, it was her mother.

"oh! there you are! you can't just run off like that! oh, i'm so sorry if she troubled you guys" an older, plump woman spoke, her eyes and nose the spitting image of the menacing girl they were just talking to. yn catches a glimpse of her partner's smirk, "oh yeah, she actually just called me an assho-ow!" his words are cut short when his girlfriend's foot is pressed harshly against his toes. "no problem, she wasn't bothering us at all!" yn's tone is sweet, a forceful smile on her lips like she weren't physically hurting the boy beside her right now. "look mommy, the pretty lady gave me a fishy!" the kid cheers as her mother picks her up from the ground. "yeah my fish-ow! stop stepping on my foot!" yn glares at the guy, if looks could kill he'd be six feet under the ground right now. the older lady and her child shoots the couple a perplexed look before thanking them quickly and leaving. the girl smiles, waving goodbye to the costume wearing child as they slowly disappeared into the distance.

"remind me to never let you play games with children ever again!" yn exclaims as they walk towards the exit of the fair. leehan just chuckles, shooting her a cheeky grin as he did so. "but you were kind of hot back there though..." he trails off, stretching an arm out to wrap around her shoulders, pulling her in. "hm?" she asked confused, her cheeks coming in contact with his t-shirt as she looked up at his face. "like you looked so cute comforting that kid...i can't lie it's giving me like extreme baby fever, right now" once again his girlfriend glares at him in disbelief, "after all of that? like hell i'm letting you near my children!" he laughs, partially agreeing with what she was saying. it was silent for a moment, her eyes focused on their surroundings, watching as families, friends and couples alike ran around the park that was starting to get darker. leehan, too, is distracted by the orange tint that began to paint the sky. and then he speaks again, ruining their moment of pure bliss. "can we at least pretend to make a baby" yn rolls her eyes, hiding her blush-y face against his chest as she slaps a hand softly against his arm.

"oh my god leehan, if you're horny just say so!"

the end.

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖

leave the poor kid alone leehan TT idrk what i was going for when i started writing this but i think its so cute nonetheless 🤓 also not leehan getting #𝒇𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒌𝒚 at the end 🙄 reblogs n feedbacks highly appreciated!! tysm for reading <3

[strawberryj0y]

I just wanted to make this post to highlight a particular aspect of their relationship that I think can get overlooked, but when you read/watch their interactions, is glaringly obvious - Sae's softness towards Shidou.

When RyuSae met for the first time, the tension between them generated by the potential they saw in each other is palpable through the page!! Sae saw a demon he can work his magic on and Shidou saw an explosive path to freedom. A chance for both to finally be able to play the exciting soccer they've dreamed of. Their relationship initially began purely to satiate their own curiosity and egos (and boy, did they!!).

However, as they play together, we witness this adorable tenderness develop and manifest between them. This is surprising at first glance but, in hindsight, expected. I suppose you would grow to be soft-hearted with the person who's finally allowing you to play the soccer of your dreams. For two people who live and breathe soccer, this must mean everything.

And maybe this is why Sae really has a soft spot for Shidou and he shows it in his own little ways...like letting him do whatever and talk about whatever while he just observes and listens :')

Sae's just not harsh with Shidou (the closest we get is that incident where he threw him off his back LMAO but tbh with all the 'throbbing' Shidou was doing, it was warranted - but hey, Sae still sticks close to him immediately after, continues flirting with him throughout the match and even gives his number later soooo :D).

Amongst all the things Sae calls him, he never strays into actively mean territory. The most he does is call him demon and adds an appropriate descriptor (e.g., horny demon). But 'demon' is a pretty great descriptor for the life force that is Shidou Ryusei LMAO and what Shidou happily calls himself, so if anything, the way he uses it comes off as affectionate tbh c:

This is Itoshi Sae we're talking about, the guy who walked into a room, took one look at the chairman of the JFU and manager of the U20 team, and said this before calling their prized team shit:

The same guy who stood there in front of the entire U20 team and told them they sucked, specifically going in on poor Sendou and didn't let up about it during his convo with Oliver either LMAO

(since this post is very long already, i have some extra thoughts on the above panel that u can refer to here)

His poor manager after Sae said he'd rather die than play with Japanese forwards and spent the entire interview ruthlessly ripping into them LMAO

So this is the kind of guy we're dealing with here...

Yet when it comes to Shidou, he's suprisingly patient and gentle with him. Like when he's guiding his inspiration to lead him in the direction of the most explosive play possible:

Sae's just so okay with playing along with all of Shidou's antics; from helping facilitate his wild soccer visions and philosophy to indulging in back-and-forth flirtatious and sexual banter. The little shots we got throughout the match of Sae just standing closely next to Shidou between plays, seemingly chit-chatting away. This occurs even when he just judo-flipped him off his back and onto the ground, called him gross, yet we see him still sticking around right after, just conversing with him while he's on the ground.

This whole thing really struck me while rewatching the finale; Sae's beautifully cruel and calculated plays against the Blue Lock team combined with his merciless dismissal of Rin's awakening and immense efforts to be acknowledged by him, contrasted so starkly with that little conversation he had with Shidou afterwards, post-match. Where we see him taking the time to actually explain himself and his decisions to not pass to Shidou in that final minute, reassuring him that he fully intended to and deemed it the optimal play he envisioned, but unfortunately it just didn't work out.

Despite Shidou responding to this with a playful jab about how it was Sae's fault for 'getting foiled by your little brother', then coming to the very Shidou-like conclusion of that final goal belonging to him, therefore he's earned the right to his number - Sae still continues to play along. In fact, he flirts back ten-fold by saying "Hmph. At least let me shower first," earning a cute giggle from shidou.

He's doing all this after losing a match, btw!! Ofc Sae's not super torn up about the outcomes of this match because it never affected his career in the first place. However, he is an egoist after all, so he doesn't play matches to lose and has absolute confidence in his own abilities and judgement, so I doubt he would been in the mood to justify his plays to anyone else. We've literally seen this guy pack his bags, getting ready to abandon the U20 team 45 mins ago, and we've been shown several times since he appeared for this arc, and even in his first appearance in chapter 4, how he doesn't spare his time or energy for anyone and everyone has to run on Itoshi Sae's time.

He'll even get up and walk out mid-interview without warning. The interviewers have to be on his time too lol

It's all rooted in the fact that Sae genuinely respects Shidou, as a player and therefore as a person*. From his very first appearance in the manga and in every appearance since, we're reminded that Itoshi Sae rarely respects anyone, and he makes that painfully clear. So this is why Shidou can have his passes, jump on his back and envelope him in a sweaty full-body hug, demand answers and justifications from him after a loss, and can have access to initiate further contact with him beyond this match.

*since we know from his characterisation and also further backed up by the egoist bible, sae only knows football and is pretty clueless about anything outside of it. It's all his life revolves around so everything (including relationships w others and the corresponding feelings) has to stem from, be relative to and occur through the medium of soccer.

The foundation of their relationship is honesty. There are no pretenses between them, they've been transparent from the very first meeting (not that it would've gone any other way since these two are not the type of characters that can or will hide their true feelings for the life of them LMAO). They entered this partnership to satisfy their egos. When you're so honest with someone, whether you intend to or not, you will begin to trust them. Knowingly or unknowingly, you become comfortable with their company. Where there's honesty and mutual understanding, there's comfort and consideration which eventually manifests as affection.

Sae feels comfortable with Shidou, hence why he's constantly glued to his side. Sae has so much consideration for Shidou, hence why he stepped in when he was about to foul Niko, reminding him not to get red-carded, and offered him gentle but firm guidance and reassurance during that following free kick, encouraging Shidou to pursue the explosive path he's always wanted but couldn't yet tread. Now, when it comes to the affection part, I think Sae's style is more so the other party expresses their affection and he...allows it to happen. LMAO (bc as we've seen, there are infinite times where he doesn't allow it to happen)

So like allowing Shidou to jump on his back and hug him, actively listening to Shidou to give a starry-eyed declaration (of love) about how Sae's the first person to truly understand his freedom, never refuting and instead full-on indulging all of Shidou's shameless flirting and basically everything else I've already said in this post lol

In conclusion: Sae likes this guy. Like, really likes him. In fact, we know he liked him even before he knew him. He couldn't stand Japanese strikers, and considered none worthy of his passes, until he saw Shidou Ryusei after all :')

[technofeudalism]

this article is a very long read, but if you want to actually fight back against what is currently happening and understand what exactly is going on in the heart of the fascist movement in America, you would be wise to take the time to read it at some point.

this article constructs a terrifying narrative - one that exposes an underbelly of right-wing violence that has been simmering under the surface for years. i have never seen this kind of deep insight to these groups.

furthermore, it will help you understand why January 6th is not where this starts or ends. it is akin to Act 1 in a tragic play. it was a peek behind the curtain of what has essentially formed into an internal cold war between violent right-wing extremists and vigilante leftists who have taken up the task of infiltrating these militias because the federal authorities will not do so, as they equate all right-wing and left-wing ideologies to be inherently the same.

i will leave you with this excerpt.

Early in the meeting, Kinch laid out his vision for the Oath Keepers’ role in American life. “We have a two-edged sword,” he said. The “dull edge” was more traditional grassroots work, exemplified by efforts to combat alleged election fraud. He hoped to build their political apparatus so that in five or 10 years, conservative candidates would be seeking the Oath Keepers’ endorsement. Then there was the sharp edge: paramilitary training. “You hone all these skills because when the dull edge fails, you’ve got to be able to turn that around and be sharp.” The room smelled like donuts, one of the men had remarked. The week before, Kinch’s predecessor had been convicted of seditious conspiracy. This was their first meeting since the verdict, and I opened the recordings later with the same anticipation I feel sitting down for the Super Bowl. What would come next for the militia after this historic trial: ruin, recovery or revolt? The stature of men leading the group’s post-Jan. 6 resurrection startled me. I was expecting the ex-cops, like the one from Fresno, California, who said he stayed on with the militia because “this defines me.” Militias tend to prize law enforcement ties; during an armed operation, it could be useful to have police see you as a friend. But there was also an Ohio OB-GYN on the national board of directors — he used to work for the Cleveland Clinic, I discovered, and now led a subsidiary of UnitedHealth Group. The doctor was joined at board meetings by a city prosecutor in Utah, an ex-city council member and, Williams was later told, a sergeant with an Illinois sheriff’s department. (The doctor did not respond to requests for comment. He has since left his post with the UnitedHealth subsidiary, a spokesperson for the company said.) Over six hours, the men set goals and delegated responsibilities with surprisingly little worry about the federal crackdown on militias. They discussed the scourges they were there to combat (stolen elections, drag shows, President Joe Biden) only in asides. Instead, they focused on “marketing” — “So what buzzwords can we insert in our mission statement?” one asked — and on resources that’d help local chapters rapidly expand. “I’d like to see this organization be like the McDonald’s of patriot organizations,” another added. To Williams, it felt more like a Verizon sales meeting than an insurrectionist cell. Kinch had only recently taken over and as I listened, I wondered how many followers he really had outside of that room. They hadn’t had a recruitment drive in the past year, which they resolved to change. They had $1,700 in the bank. But it didn’t seem entirely bravado. Kinch and his comrades mentioned conversations with chapters around the county. Then as they turned from their weakened national presence to their recent successes in Utah, Williams snapped to attention. “We had surveillance operations,” Kinch said, without elaboration. “We’re making progress locally on the law enforcement,” Coates added. He said that at least three of them can get “the sheriff” on the phone any time of day. Like the last time, Coates didn’t give a name, but he said something even more intriguing: “The sheriff is my tie-in to the state attorney general because he’s friends.” Williams told me he fought the urge to lob a question. (The attorney general’s office did not respond to requests for comment.) Closing out the day, Kinch summarized their plan moving forward: Keep a low profile. Focus on the unglamorous work. Rebuild their national footprint. And patiently prepare for 2024. “We still got what, two more years, till another quote unquote election?” He thanked Williams for coming and asked if they could start planning training exercises. “Absolutely, yeah, I’m excited about that.” Williams was resolved to find his way onto the national board.

[littledovesnow]

a/n: it's part 2 to this little thang and also this request: can you write a fluffy coryo fic where yn is in the arena during the bombing and she gets hurt worse than coryo? love your fics!

------

Coriolanus shuffling around his bedroom drew you from your slumber, momentarily forgetting the past day’s events.

“What are you doing awake so early?” You mumbled, leaning back on your elbows to watch your boyfriend skitter around, papers in his hands.

“Dr. Gaul wanted Clemensia and I to write a proposal for some additions to the Games. After everything yesterday, I forgot until a little while ago.” Coriolanus explained, glancing at you. “It’s still early, you can sleep for another couple hours.”

Shaking your head, you sat up and yawned. “I’m not going to let you stay up alone, Coryo. Besides,” you looked at your bandaged palm. “My hand is starting to bother me again.”

The blue eyes you loved darted from his desk to the white gauze on your hand. “I’m sorry, love. I wish I could have been in your place.���

“Don’t, Coryo. You couldn’t have predicted what could have happened yesterday.” You drew your knees up to your chest, arms wrapping around your legs. “What sorts of things did you write about adding to the Games? Does Clemensia know you’re still writing it?”

Coriolanus set his pen down, giving the paper a once-over. “Would you like to read it? Make sure it makes sense?” He asked, handing the papers over to you.

Taking them in your non-stitched hand, you looked the three sheets over, reading over what Coriolanus suggested the Gamemakers add to enhance the Games and entice the Capitol and even districts to watch them.

“Betting on the tributes?” You asked. “How?”

Coriolanus shrugged, moving to sit next to you in his bed. “A prize pot, perhaps? The winner gets a portion of the prize money, the Capitol gets the other portion to use in updating the arena.”

Humming, you passed the papers back to your boyfriend, who slid them into his bag. “Now, you do need rest. Sleep for a little, my dove.”

You rolled your eyes, but you did curl into Coriolanus’ side as he too tried to catch another couple hours of sleep.

-break-

Having been granted fifteen minutes with the tributes in the arena to gather information and propose strategies, you made quick time of getting the basics out of your bag and handing them to Tanner.

“Some food, water, and antibiotics to last until the day after tomorrow.” You explained, setting the items on the table within Tanner’s reach so he could examine them while restrained to the table.

“Your hand okay?” He asked, staring at the gauze.

Following his gaze, you flexed your fingers, grunting as the skin pulled taut near the stitches. “I’ll be okay.”

You looked over to where Coriolanus and Clemensia were talking to Peacekeepers and Dean Highbottom, having been called over from their tributes. “Have you made any allies so far?”

Tanner knew what you were getting at. “You want me to help protect the songbird? Your boyfriend trying to win or something?”

You swallowed, gauging how you should respond. “Or something.”

“Look,” Tanner said, lacing his hands together on the tabletop. “I’ll save my ass first, but if there’s anything I can do to not get her killed, I’ll try to help her.”

You thanked him, jumping when there was a sudden alarm from the speakers. “Time’s up!”

Peacekeepers wasted no time to gather the tributes and take them back to their cage at the Capitol Zoo, and you wished Tanner well before the next time you saw him- one final meeting between mentors and tributes before the Games.

-break-

You finally caught up with Coriolanus after a couple hours back at the Citadel, frowning at the lack of Clemensia with him. “Where’s Clem?”

“She’s uh, she’s not feeling well.” Coriolanus replied, grabbing the door to the café for you.

“Oh. Did something happen when you two met with Dr. Gaul?”

Coriolanus softly nodded his head. He looked green at the gills, and you felt your stomach turn at what the possibilities could be with Dr. Gaul and her mutts in the lab.

“Coryo,” you whispered. “What happened?”

“I can’t explain it here. But I will, promise.” He mumbled, chewing on his lip.

You knew he would eventually tell you, as it seemed you were one of the few people he would give the full truth.

“Okay.” You sat at one of the pristine tables, sweeping some crumbs off of the surface. “Citadel needs to get new Avoxes to clean, I think the current ones have gone soft with their jobs.”

Coriolanus hummed absentmindedly, taking your non-injured hand. “Did you have a good meeting with Tanner earlier?”

Nodding, you explained how you got him to try and protect Lucy Gray, as much as you disliked the singer.

“Hopefully her district-mate won’t take that in the wrong way.” Coriolanus mumbled. “Hey, does your father still have that guitar he used to play?

Narrowing your eyes, you didn’t like where this was heading. “I believe so. Why?”

“Lucy Gray is going to sing at the interview, but she needs a guitar. It’s the only thing I could think of to get her sponsors.”

“She’s going to what?” You asked, confused. “Isn’t the purpose of the interview for the Capitol citizens to get to know the tributes? You know, to want to help them?”

Coriolanus retracted his hand from your own, shield going up. “We thought it would do better for her to sing. You saw how everyone reacted when she sang at the Reaping. She was the talk of the town.”

Frowning, you had to admit Coriolanus had a point. “I can ask if my father will let me use the guitar. But there’s no promises when he finds out what it would be used for.”

Coriolanus thanked you softly, eyes focusing on something behind you. “What time did Dean Highbottom say we were to go back to the arena?”

Turning around, you felt a bubble of anxiety when you saw the Peacekeepers at the entrance of the café. “Never said a specific time. I guess it’s now.”

Just as you two were standing up, Dean Highbottom called for the twenty-two remaining mentors to meet him and the Peacekeepers in the main hallway.

-break-

“Didn’t expect to come back here today.” Tanner said as you sat across from him once more.

“Nor I.” You replied, looking around with a careful eye. “Tanner, there are lots of hiding spots up in the stands. If you can get there quickly, you should be able to hide until some of the tributes are taken out.”

“You mean killed. Till they’re killed.” Tanner spat, frowning.

You quickly glanced at him, before diverting your gaze. “Y-yeah, I guess. Listen, you’ve already got some sponsors, so I’ll be able to supply you with water and some bread during the Games. But I won’t be able to send them unless I know where you-”

You were cut off as a number of explosions went off around the arena, sending everyone into a tizzy.

Tributes were running around, some trying to escape, others to hide. Peacekeepers were split between controlling the tributes and trying to evacuate the mentors, and the mentors themselves were making a break for the exits.

“Coryo!” You yelled, dodging some fallen rocks and marble.

You saw your boyfriend helping Lucy Gray out of a predicament, before his eyes met your own, and you saw them grow wide as dinner plates.

Before you could say anything else, you heard the beam above you break and grow closer and closer, feeling someone push you nearly out of harm’s way, but not completely.

-break-

Soft whispering was the first thing you heard, the smell of antiseptic the first thing you smelled.

There was a pressure on your hand, and you tried to squeeze it.

“Hey, hey can you hear me?”

Coriolanus, his hand was what you felt in your own.

“Tigris, can you get one of the nurses? I think she’s waking up.”

You tried with all your might to open your eyes, but regretted it as you were met with a rather bright overhead light.

Blinking a few times to adjust, you swallowed thickly, Coriolanus grabbing the water cup on the table to his side.

“Wh- what happened?” You croaked, voice raw.

“It was a rebel bombing.” Sejanus voiced from where he was walking into the room. “They must’ve been there for months.”

You didn’t know what to say, and Coriolanus was quiet, as well.

“Four tributes are dead. Felix Ravenstill is on life support.”

“Is Tanner ok?” You asked, looking between the two men. “Lucy Gray? Marcus? Are they okay, too?”

“Lucy Gray is fine, but Marcus is,” Coriolanus drifted off, looking back at his classmate.

“Marcus made a run for it.” Sejanus explained, frown on his face. “Peacekeepers are out looking for him, but he’s got a better chance out there than in that arena.”

You furrowed your brows, looking back at your boyfriend. “They’re still going on with the Games?”

Coriolanus nodded, and the light caught his face, causing you to gasp. “Coryo, are you okay?”

Before he could answer, Tigris came back into view, nurse in tow. “How are you feeling, Miss Rosewing?”

You paused before speaking, just now realizing how much pain you really were in. “I’m sore, but it’s fine.”

Coriolanus frowned, squeezing your hand.

The nurse nodded, eyes roaming the three people around your cot, stopping at Coriolanus. “You, young man, aren’t supposed to be out of your own bed. What are you doing over here?”

“I needed to make sure my girlfriend was okay. I feel fine.”

Your eyes trailed around Coriolanus’ body as he talked before coming to a stop at the faint bruising on his cheek.

The nurse hummed, attention falling back to you. “You sustained some of the worst injuries from the bombing. A broken rib or two and a punctured lung being the worst of it.”

That explained the pain you felt every time you took a breath.

“The doctors want to keep you here for a couple days for observation.” Tigris added, and you immediately shook your head, struggling to sit up.

“Easy, easy, don’t want to rip a stitch.” Coriolanus commanded softly, helping you adjust to a more upright position.

“I can’t stay here! I need to be at the Citadel, need to help Tanner, help Lucy Gray.” You looked between the nurse and your boyfriend, both with frowns on their faces.

The nurse thought best to leave the area, so she simply explained that it was only a recommendation that you stay, final decision was up to you.

“You should stay here. It’s safer.” Coriolanus spoke, glancing at the tv as Lucky Flickerman began interviewing Jessup.

Sejanus and Tigris both agreed with him. “Not to mention they have medication here that can help you with the pain.”

You fiddled with the hem of the sad excuse of a sheet covering your legs on the bed. “I’m not staying. I need- I need to try and get Tanner as far into the Games as he can go.”

“Love,” Coriolanus started, glancing up at the tv once more as Lucy Gray began to sing, before returning his attention to you. “Please, just stay here for the night.”

“No, Coriolanus.” You rarely used his full name, only when you were done arguing, and Coriolanus was no fool.

Tigris softly bid you two good night, promising to update Grandma’am on your conditions, and Sejanus walked her out.

You watched in the corner of the tv as Lucy Gray’s number of donations sky-rocketed, Coriolanus’ eye on the rise and fall of your chest.

“I’m sorry.”

Your quiet apology startled him, and his gaze shot to your own. “What for?” He whispered, elbows coming to rest on the side of the bed, lacing your hand in both of his own. “Unless you placed those bombs, you have nothing to be sorry for.”

Looking at his bruised cheek, you felt your eyes water. “I- Coryo, I need to help Tanner so he can help Lucy Gray. You need to win, Coyo.”

Coriolanus felt his heart swell, hand moving to caress your cheek. “I will, love. I will.”

“Can you stay over tonight? I don’t think I can be alone.”

Coriolanus nodded, pressing his lips to your hand. “Of course.”

-break-

You second-guessed your decision to leave the hospital as soon as you fully sat up, pain erupting throughout your abdomen. “Oh, okay, ow.”

Coriolanus paused, one hand hovering at your lower back, the other being held tightly be your own. “You okay?”

Nodding, you pressed your lips in a tight line. “Just peachy.”

“It’s not too late, you can still stay here.”

You shook your head, bracing yourself as you stood up. “Once I’m up it’ll be better.”

Coriolanus, not believing you for a second, bit his tongue as you carefully took a step forward. “You still feeling like this was a good idea?”

“Shut up, Snow.”

Coriolanus followed you as the dutiful boyfriend he was, thankful your father had sent the family’s private car, not wanting you to walk the miles it was back to your family residence.

“I think it’s time for a long, hot shower.” You mumbled, thankful to be sitting in the plush backseats of the vehicle.

Smiling, Coriolanus hummed in agreement, hand going to rest on your thigh. “I think that’s just what the doctor ordered.”

“No funny business tonight, though. Maybe once I can take a deep breath again.” You smiled, and Coriolanus felt a small weight lift off his shoulders, happy you were back to your teasing self even with the aftermath of the bombing.

a/n: idk if i'm gonna continue to write the rest of the games, we all know what happens lmao ,,, send requests loves

[irkimatsu]

Hi! I've absolutely fallen in love with the way you write this devious old man, and I can't get the thought of Husk taking shots off of a female reader tits after beating her in a few hands of cards lmao

God damn something about this request put me into "must write this now" mode, so thanks for that! Here's a NSFW fic about Husk and AFAB!Reader playing strip poker, Reader losing miserably, and Husk licking whiskey off her tits. 1.3k words. Warning for author not being much of a drinker and probably fucking something up here. I did read about how to do body shots with tequila/salt/lime, but decided to keep it simple for my baby Seagram's drinking ass. Enjoy!

Sometimes you wonder why you even bother playing strip poker with Husk, when the score always ends up so unbalanced. He’s sitting across from you, fully clad in a nice suit, his bowtie the only article of clothing that’s been discarded to the floor. You, on the other hand, have been reduced to nothing but your matching bra and panties.

As you stare at your cards, you know that one of those things is about to go.

“Three of a kind,” Husk says, face absolutely smug, as he rests his cards on the table. “What have you got, doll?”

“As far as I know, nothing,” you respond with disgust as you set your own hand down.

Husk takes a quick glance at your cards before laughing. “Yeah, you don’t have shit.” He grabs one of the bottles of whiskey he’s been drinking throughout the game and takes a long gulp. With all he’s had, you’re impressed he’s not face down on the floor right now, but even with his high tolerance he’s definitely not sober.

“Are you sure you’re not cheating?” you playfully accuse him.

“What? You really think I’m so desperate to see you naked that I’d cheat at cards?” he says, his wide, toothy grin not helping you determine how sarcastic he’s being. “Now, come on, take off your bra.”

“I thought the loser chose what to take off?’ you shoot back.

“Oh? You’re gonna take your panties off for me, then? It’s not like you have a lot of options right now.”

“Asshole.” Despite the insult, you’re still laughing as you pull the straps of your bra off of your shoulders. Husk’s eyes are glued to you, his tail waving behind him in interest. Both his smirk and his pupils widen as you pull the cups down, exposing your sizable breasts to his view.

“Fuckin’ gorgeous…” The slightest hint of a moan breaks through his voice.

You toss your bra to the floor and start gathering the cards from the table. “So, it’s my turn to deal?”

“Hey, wait!” Husk protests. “At least give me a minute to enjoy the view!”

“All right, you dirty old man.” Even as you say that, you find yourself blushing in his gaze. It’s not like you dislike the interest he always shows in your body; it’s quite the opposite, in fact. You could expose yourself to him a million times, and every single time he’d find himself transfixed as if he’d never seen anything so beautiful before. No matter how lewd he gets, especially when he’s drunk, his gaze on you always holds a sense of romantic wonder, even worship.

That man adores you. His hungry eyes drinking your body in do nothing to downplay that.

“Why don’t you push them up for me?” he asks. “Give me a better look?”

He groans as you follow his request. Your hands on the bottom of your breasts send the slightest jolt of excitement through your blood. Oh, to have his hands where yours are right now… you absentmindedly stroke the tops of your breasts with your thumbs, imagining his hard claws in their place.

“Now push ‘em together.” A small purr escapes his throat as you continue moving to his will. “Mmm… fuck, that’s it…” Even as he takes another gulp of whiskey, he still doesn’t take his eyes off you.

“Can we get back to the game?” you ask. Not that you don’t want his eyes on you, but you’re so close to finishing it… finishing one game, and starting another. You’re so ready for him to get that last point, get you out of your panties, and take his grand prize for once again besting you. At this point, he’s just teasing you… and that fucker knows it, you’re sure.

“Hmm…” Does he actually need time to decide how quickly he wants you out of your clothes?! “Hold on… there’s something I wanna try.” Still holding his whiskey bottle, he rises from his chair. “Don’t move your hands,” he says as he walks over to your chair. “Just turn and face me.”

You turn as he asks, unsure where he’s going with this. You then gasp from the sudden cold as he pours a bit of whiskey between your breasts, letting it settle in your cleavage as it slowly trickles down your skin. “Husk, what the fuck are you-”

You don’t have time to finish your question before his paws are over your hands and his face is buried in your cleavage, rough tongue lapping up the amber liquid.

“Husk…” you murmur as he continues tasting you, long after the whiskey on your skin has trickled out of his reach.

“Pour me another one,” he asks from his position against your chest. It’s difficult to get your hand out of his grip, but you comply, grabbing the bottle from the table and pouring more whiskey into your cleavage. Chilled drink is quickly followed by his hot breaths and tongue, and you’re not sure which sensation is making you shiver more.

“Do you want some more, kitty?” you ask playfully. His waving tail answers that question. You pour some more whiskey onto yourself, this time aiming for the top of one of your breasts. His mouth quickly seeks out the stream, tongue grazing against your skin as he laps directly from the flow. Once you turn the bottle upright again, he focuses on licking up what he missed, tongue following it as it drips down the curve of your breast.

You gasp as his tongue laps at your nipple, licking up the last of the drink.

“More,” he grunts. This time, you focus the pour directly onto your nipple, desperate to keep his mouth’s attention there. Hot and cold alternate on the stiff, sensitive bud as he savors his new treat, alternating between licking and suckling the liquid from your skin. His hands begin massaging your breasts, squeezing and grazing with his claws. Your hand is starting to shake, but he still continues to sip from the now-erratic flow, not even bothered when your hand jerks in a way that pours some of the whiskey onto his face. He’s way too drunk, on whiskey and on you, to care about anything that happens to him.

Unfortunately, the bottle can only hold so much, and soon he’s cleaned the final drops from your body. As if in search of more, his tongue licks its way back up your breast, then to your collarbone, before making you gasp with a few firm licks to your throat. His lips then find yours, kissing you deeply as he continues to massage your breasts. The taste of whiskey is strong on his lips; you gently suckle his tongue to get more of that beautifully familiar taste, the taste of him. You may not even like whiskey that much, but it’s so delicious when you’re tasting it from his breath.

“Did… did you still want to play cards?” you ask, breathless and laughing, when he pulls away from the kiss.

“I don’t think we have to. It’s pretty obvious I was about to win anyway, right?” he says.

“Yeah, you’re probably right,” you say. You lightly scratch beneath his chin before pulling him in for another kiss, his purrs rumbling against your lips. “Congratulations, you still have your undefeated streak against me.”

“You’re damn right I do. Now come on, get on the bed. I want my prize.”

He steps back to allow you to rise from the chair. You expect him to follow you to the bed, maybe unable to keep his hands off you during the brief journey, but instead he makes a detour to the fridge in the corner of the room.

He pulls out another bottle of liquor and brings it over to your now-lying form. You gasp as he presses the cold bottle against the side of your neck, then slowly drags it down your body, over your collarbone, breast, nipple, stomach, before pressing it between your legs against your still-covered lips. You instinctively grind against the bottle as he rubs you with it, his smirk growing more devious.

“Thanks for the best whiskey I’ve ever had. Now, let’s see how you’ll taste with a good rum…”

[subliminalbo]

Quick Hits #26: Merchandise

She was not Charlotte Blake tonight.

She knew this even when she stepped up on stage with her mind completely empty. She knew this even when the woman in the gold, sparkling ballgown circled her like a wolf before reading out her name. "Charlotte Blake, professor of English, thirty-six years old..." She knew this even when the bidders fought amongst themselves for the right to purchase her. Not quite Charlotte Blake herself, but rather the idea of Charlotte Blake. A fantasy. One night with your favorite Carpenter State professor.

Her mind was empty, but her body was full of pleasure. She stood on stage in the Obedience by Fleur that had been fitted for her two weekends before the auction. The stimulators that lined the fabric of the lingerie delivered precision orgasms that kept her sedated, compliant, suggestable. By the time she reached the stage, nothing brought more pleasure to her than the thought of being sold.

The underground auction was one of Romero's dirtier secrets, its existence known only to Romero's elite class. The organizer was a mystery. The auctioneer changed from month to month, though it was always a gorgeous, impeccably dressed woman. Tonight's auctioneer, our lady in gold, had wavy, blonde hair and an intimidating aura. Some men in the crowd may have recognized her as Cassandra Cox, the gorgeous realtor who had sold them their homes in Stoker. She certainly didn't recognize herself.

The auction was a closed system. The organizer procured the lots through their own network, but never did any of the dirty work themselves. The auctioneer was as brainwashed as the merchandise, and she would always be put up for sale in future auctions.

Even the auction house itself changed. The attendees spent the weeks in between auctions searching Romero for clues to its next location. The merchandise were rentals, sold only for limited, non-negotiable amounts of time. When that time expired, the buyers returned their purchases to the auction house where their minds would be cleaned of any unpleasant memories and returned to their homes with a sizable deposit in their bank accounts.

Charlotte didn't know it, but this was her third night on the auction block. She was one of Romero's most popular prizes. The bidders were a mix of rich old men from Romero's upper class and their spoiled rich sons who had grown up on tall tales about the auction from their father's creepy friends. Tonight, Charlotte sold to some twenty-one year old twerp for twelve-thousand dollars.

"Do you even know who I am?" the kid laughed when Charlotte was seated next to him in his sportscar.

Charlotte felt a pleasurable chill creep up her spine, a signal going from the bra to her brain, a microscopic orgasm imperceptible to anyone but her.

"Isaac Chambers," she recited his name in an uncharacteristic monotone. "Twelve-thousand dollars buys me for twelve hours."

"Isaac, from class!" the kid laughed. "You tried to flunk me! Shit, my dad had to get involved. I can't believe this is even real."

Charlotte shook her head. "It doesn't matter who you are. Tonight you are my Master and my only purpose is to serve you."

Her soft hand glided along the fabric of the kid's pants, slowly pulling down the zipper to reveal his boxer briefs underneath. Just a little tug and his stiffening cock popped free.

The kid sank back into his seat while Charlotte's lips wrapped around his cock. Her body responded more to his approving moans than any physical pleasure he could give her. That's how she had been programmed, not just merchandise, but a deliverer of pleasure.

Endless pleasure. That's what this was all about to Charlotte in her blank state, driven solely by the instinct to receive more pleasure and the ways in which she could receive it defined entirely by her conditioning and the signals firing through her body from Obedience by Fleur.

With his eyes closed, the kid moaned, his fingers weaving through Charlotte's hair as she worked. Another orgasm rocked her body, but she remained firm and focused on the task.

"Fuck, you're so good at that," Isaac breathed. "Did you ever imagine that we'd meet again like this?"

Charlotte swallowed a breath as she released, a trail of saliva traveling from her bottom lip to the glossy tip of his cock. She stroked him a few times while she responded, "Discussing our personal lives is against auction policy, Master. But I'll be happy to do anything else."

"Tell me what you'll do," he whispered.

"I'll let you cum in my mouth," she said. "Fuck my tits, fuck my pussy, parade me naked down Greek street as your brainwashed sex slave."

The kid licked his lips.

"When we're finished here," he said. "I wanna go back to my apartment and share you with my boys. I'll be a legend for this."

"Anything you wish, Master," Charlotte moaned.

There was always room for more if that was how her Master wanted it. After all, she was not Charlotte Blake tonight. She was just merchandise.

[deliciousangelfestival]

Every Time You Lie - Ch 6 || Lloyd Hansen

Character: dark!Lloyd Hansen x female!reader, dark!Husband Lloyd Hansen x Wife!reader.

Synopsis: Any woman is jealous of you, especially with the status of being the wife of Lloyd Hansen—the CEO of the biggest pharmacy company in the country. From the outside, everyone sees you as a perfect family, a successful husband, two kids, and living in a big house. 

But the truth is different. You are trapped in this marriage because of the mistake you made. You are willing to give everything you have to get your freedom. Free from him. Free from your vicious mother-in-law. Free from your snobby son.

Both of them shouldn’t be together.

Warning: Betrayal, suicidal thought, harsh language, tragedy. Minors do not read. 18+

Author Note: I do not consent to copying or translating my work.

Any reblog, comment, and feedback are appreciated. I want to know what you guys think.

Series Masterlist || Chapter 1, Chapter 2 , Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6 , -

Main Masterlist || buy me Ko-fi 🥹💓

You and Lionel arrived home from the arcade, and Lloyd awaited them. As you entered, Lloyd greeted you with a gentle hug and a kiss on the cheek. However, his words hinted at an indirect warning about you not letting him know about your whereabouts.

"Wife, you didn't inform me where you were going. You used to do that before..." Lloyd's tone carried a subtle edge, making it clear that he expected you to keep him updated.

Lionel, upon hearing his father's voice, visibly flinched. Lloyd then instructed Lionel, “Go to your room,” with a stern tone, to which Lionel responded timidly, "Okay," and quickly retreated to his room.

You couldn't help but notice the unease in your son, a stark contrast to the vibrant and playful boy you remembered. It raised questions about the dynamics within the household that went beyond your memory loss.

Lloyd's disdain for the doll was evident in his dismissive words, "What kind of ugly thing is that?" However, you became protective of the prize Lionel had worked hard to win, countered his comment.

"Hey, don't say that. Lionel worked hard to win this," You defended a hint of defiance in your voice.

Surprised by your straightforward response, Lloyd softened, "Alright, alright. I'm sorry."

He held you delicately, as if you were fragile, and said, "It's already late. You have to drink your medicine before resting."

You nodded in agreement, "Okay."

In the quiet stillness of the Hansen mansion at night, Lloyd awoke to find the space beside him empty. Concerned, he donned his night robe and sandals, contemplating whether you were sleepwalking, a behavior you had never exhibited before.

Locating you in front of the expansive French window, he approached you gently, attempting to coax you back to bed. "Honey, let's go back to sleep," he murmured.

However, your demeanor suddenly changed, and you strangled Lloyd, causing him to fall to the ground with you on top. In your rage, you accused him, "It's all because of you!!! Everything is gone because of you, my father, my sister, my brother."

Struggling for breath, Lloyd pleaded, "Wife, wake up; it's all a dream."

“Y/N!!!”

The intensity of his scream finally jolted you awake from your turbulent dream.

You gradually sat up on the bed, and your movement stirred Lloyd. Concerned, he inquired, "Did you have a good sleep?"

You nodded in response.

Lloyd tenderly stroked your hair, "Let's get up. I'll accompany you for your therapy today."

You responded with a soft sound of agreement. While you wanted to convey that you might not need more therapy, there was a small comfort in knowing you would get to see your daughter, Emily.

As you left the bed, Lloyd's hand instinctively touched the back of his neck. He winced, feeling the subtle sting of your nails scratching his skin during sleepwalking. A frown creased his forehead.

Concern etched on his face, Lloyd reached for his phone and dialed a number. He spoke to the receiver in a hushed tone, "Change her medicine. Add the dosage."

The atmosphere seemed lighter than usual as Lionel joined them at the breakfast table. The young man brought his basketball, a tangible sign of the spark reignited by yesterday's outing.

You welcomed him with a cheerful greeting, "Good morning."

Lionel responded with a simple "Morning, Mom," sitting across from you. You patted the chair beside you, "You're too far; sit beside me." Lionel agreed, moving closer.

Observing the newfound closeness between mother and son, Lloyd continued with his breakfast. However, his moment of reprieve was interrupted by an unexpected phone call. The news he received prompted a sudden outburst, "Nonsense!!! It's impossible!!! We have the license."

Lloyd's sudden outburst caught the attention of both you and Lionel, causing an awkward pause in the breakfast conversation. However, Lloyd swiftly regained his composure, addressing the urgent matters on the phone.

As he concluded the call, Lloyd told you, "Prepare the jet. I'll be there in person. Call our PR to handle this." He turned off his phone, attempting to mask the abruptness of the situation.

You who have been listening to his conversation, “What jet?”

As he turned off his phone, Lloyd reassured you, "Ours. We have a jet, my dear. You'll be surprised at how successful your father's company is under my hands." Your grip on the fork tightened at the reminder of the company's ownership transition.

Lloyd, adjusting his tie, approached you and gently kissed your cheek. "I have to go to LA; something happened in our branch there. I couldn't accompany you today, but I'm sure Emily will be there."

You, trying to conceal your emotions, responded, "I'll be fine. Be safe."

Lloyd smiled, assuring you, "I will." Before departing, he turned to Lionel and promptly commanded, "Be good. Don't make any trouble."

Lionel, responding with a subdued "Yes, father," visibly flinched. You sensed your son's unease and comforted him by placing your hand atop his, offering reassurance. As Lloyd left, Lionel found solace in his mother's presence, a reprieve from the looming shadows of his father's authority.

As you underwent therapy for your foot and had various medical examinations, Dr. Gabriel, the head doctor, assured you were healthy. Emily stood by her mother's side throughout, providing a comforting presence.

After the medical appointments, Emily suggested, "Let's take a walk near the hospital lake before you go back." You agreed, although your eyes subtly signaled your discomfort with the idea because of Lloyd's assigned bodyguard to always be at your side.

Sensitive to her mother's feelings, Emily assured you, "It'll be alright. I'll handle it."

While enjoying the beauty of the scenery, Emily suddenly said, "Mom, I left something. I'll be right back."

While you sat on the bench, taking in the picturesque view of the swan lake, you felt someone join you. Shocked, you turned to find Ransom seated beside you, clad in his familiar brown cloak, scarf, and sunglasses.

A surprised smile played on his lips as he greeted you, "Hey, sweetie."

The unexpected presence of Ransom stirred a mixture of emotions within you. Your heart raced, and her mind was a whirlwind of memories from their past. Despite the surprise, you composed yourself and replied, "Ransom? What are you doing here?"

You couldn't help but feel a sense of fear lingering due to Lloyd's intimidating bodyguards. However, after noticing your unease, Ransom reassured you with a mischievous smile, saying, "Rest assured, I've taken care of your bodyguard."

Curious, you asked, "How?"

Ransom placed one finger on his lips, adopting a playful expression, "Bribe."

You chuckled at the revelation, finding it typical of Ransom's approach. "That's so Ransom."

As they shared a lighthearted moment, Ransom couldn't help but gaze at the woman he had once loved, now standing before him, laughing. 

Unable to contain his emotions, Ransom wrapped his arms around you, confessing, "How much I miss you."

Surprised by the sudden embrace, you hesitated momentarily but found a strange comfort in Ransom's arms. There was an undeniable sense of rightness, a feeling you hadn't experienced with Lloyd.

Feeling your warmth in his arms, Ransom couldn't hold back his emotions. "How much I miss you," he repeated, his voice filled with regret and longing.

As you, still held in his embrace, you gathered the courage to ask, "Ransom, why did we break up?"

Ransom released his hold, and for a moment, a flicker of fear crossed his face. After a heavy sigh, he admitted, "We had a massive argument. And I..." He paused, the weight of his words hanging in the air.

Your curiosity mixed with concern, pressed further, "Ransom, what happened?"

Running a hand through his face, Ransom sighed deeply. "I ended up in jail."

Your eyes widened in shock, "What?"

Author Note :

Hey friends,

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@ladyvenera

@pattiemac1

Series Masterlist || Chapter 1, Chapter 2 , Chapter 3 , Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6 , -

Main Masterlist || support me: Ko-fi 🥹💓

[secretly-tword-obsessed]

The Front Man Interferes

Hello Gigglers!

This is a fic I wrote because @estelle-skully wanted some lee!thanos content. Iv'e really wanted to write for Squid Game in a while, (and her HC's are so cute), so I thought I'd give it a go.

Sorry in advance for the mischaracterization, I've only really watched the season once but I did try my best.

Summary: In-Ho notices that Thanos is enjoying the games too much. He thinks the rapper needs to be taught a lesson.

Warning - this is a TICKLE FIC. If you are not a tickle blog pls DO NOT REBLOG. If you think tickle fics are cringe, just don't read it.

It was just another regular day for Thanos and his new buddy Nam Gyu. Well, at least as regular as it could be considering their situation. But there was one other thing - one hardly noticeable thing - that made this day abnormal.

Thanos felt successful.

He always looked successful. Rapping, prancing around, flirting without a single stutter. But this time he actually felt that confident vibe he gave off. And not because of the drugs.

Little did he know that somebody else caught on to this shift. A man who was observant enough to tell the fake carefree Thanos and the real carefree Thanos apart. And it wasn't his new friend, Nam Gyu.

In-Ho - otherwise known as the Frontman - had been observing Thanos' movements and behavior. He had watched him in Red Light Green Light - skipping along in ways that seemed incredibly dangerous. His smugness when he smashed the 'O' button. His little victory dance when the O's had won.

People weren't supposed to enjoy these games. They were meant to be exhilarated, but not in a positive way. They certainly weren't meant to feel like winners - merely like non-losers. The Frontman had a malicious desire to disrupt Thanos' spirit, to crack open this seemingly indestructible influencer for his own entertainment.

Nam Gyu and Thanos were playing a game where they guessed what their fellow players would spend their prize money on - which they wouldn't receive of course. The two of them were going to be the sole winners, and split the cash 50/50.

"Hey, what do you reckon player 001 would do with all that green?", Nam Gyu asked.

Thanos rubbed his chin and made another one of those absurd expressions which made Nam Gyu chuckle.

"That sad-looking one probably wants his own little cottage in the woods". Thanos said this in an exaggerated baby voice, not knowing that In-Ho was standing behind him. Nam Gyu hadn't said anything - he wanted to see what would happen.

"Oh really, is that what you think of me?", In-ho said in a menacingly soft tone, making Thanos jump. This caused his buddy to burst out laughing and Thanos' face to go red with agitation.

"You heard me!", Thanos snapped, standing up and stepping before the man he didn't know was the puppet master of him and his fellow players.

In-Ho chuckled, "Why are you getting so combative?"

This infuriated Thanos further, and he pushed In-Ho backwards, snapping "Fuck off sad-face".

In-Ho just shook his head and kept chuckling, regaining his balance impressively quickly.

"Your always so proud Thanos, always think your the best. You see every interaction as a competition of superiority".

In-Ho could practically see the smoke coming out of Thanos' ears. That was step one - getting on his nerves. Now it was time for step two - crumbling his narcissism. Bringing him down a few pegs.

"Your not responding because you know it's true", the Frontman grinned, causing Thanos to lash out at him again. In-Ho, with his lightning reflexes, jabbed a finger into Thanos' side and wiggled it gently, causing the rapper to miss his planned attack - whatever it was - and jump backwards with a squeak.

There was silence for a few moments. In-Ho looked to Nam-Gyu, who seemed to be holding back laughter. Perfect.

"Oh", In-Ho finally said after the silence that felt like an eternity, "I'm sorry, just self defense". He walked away, feeling accomplished.

When In-Ho left, Nam Gyu finally spoke, "Are you t-"

"No!", Thanos interrupted, although his trembling posture and pink cheeks told a different story.

Nam Gyu's mouth opened in disbelief - "No-ho! No way! You totally are!"

Thanos didn't have a retort. All he could do was feign confidence.

"I can't believe it!", his buddy said, getting more enthusiastic, "You! Of all people! I would expect it from somebody childish like that 456 guy, but you!"

Thanos felt like he could melt into the floor. That was when Nam Gyu started mocking him.

"Imagine that in a rap! I'm a legend, with my rapping and stuff. But if you touch my sides, I might just laugh"

"Enough!", Thanos finally snapped, "You shut up right now or I'll-"

He was interupted by another poke to his sides. This one made him jump with a high pitched "Heehee!"

Nam Gyu looked like he'd won the lottery. And Thanos, for the first time in his life, went with his flight reflex and ran. He bolted across the room, causing many players to lift their heads up and watch the display. Nam Gyu ran behind him, laughing manically.

"Hey, I wonder what those two are up too", Jung Bae said, sitting in a semicircle with his new allies. In-Ho smirked, "You'll see".

Thanos was finally caught by his treacherous new friend, and tackled to the ground.

"Ow!", he said, banging his head gently on the ground. "What the fuck ma- NAHAHAHA!"

The purple-haired boy burst into hysterical laughter, throwing his head back as Nam Gyu squeezed his hips with one hand and ribs with the other.

"Whoah!", Nam Gyu remarked with the biggest smile on his face, making it impossible to contain his excitement, "This is unbelievable!"

Thanos tossed and turned and kicked his legs, making Nam Gyu pin him down by sitting on his hips, moving both of his hands to scribble under the poor rapper's arms.

"No point trying to escape man, your efforts are futile", Nam Gyu teased, watching as Thanos tried to give an expression that was even a semblance of threatening through his face-wide grin and roaring laughter.

"FUHUHUHUCK OHOHOFF MAHAHHAHAN! I SWEHEHEAR! YOOUR DEHEHEHEAD!"

Nam Gyu smirked to himself, "Sure, whatever you say Mr.Confident".

Thanos laughter went higher pitched as Nam Gyu experimented with his sides, where he was initially poked, and changed his tactics to tracing circles. As if on command, Thanos' desperate cackles turned into light giggles.

"Nahahaha", he protested, trying to lean to the left to crush his assaulter's hand, to no avail.

"Oh my shit, this is adorable", Nam Gyu remarked, hardly even meaning it to be a tease, but it made Thanos' cheeks go a shade darker nonetheless.

As Thanos tossed and turned, he couldn't think of anything. Not his pride. Not his deeply buried fears and anxieties. Just those damn fingers making him fall to pieces. He let out a loud gasp as his attacker hit a particularly sensitive spot on the side of his right rib, making Nam Gyu concentrate all of his energy on that spot.

"PLEHEHEASE!", he begged.

"Wow, looks like Ive' gotten the all mighty Thanos begging-"

Now the teases were definitely intentional. Not that Thanos minded too much. Due to his absurdly extraverted persona, he didn't have many real friends, only shallow ones, ones that were drawn to the life of the party. But this level of playfulness and intimacy had been alien to him - this lighthearted banter between friends. Real friends.

In-Ho watched the whole scene from across the room, awfully pleased with himself. It seemed like the rapper had been taken down a notch.

"Wow, who'd have guessed Thanos would be ticklish", Jung-Bae said in awe.

"I did", In-Ho admitted, "I got sick of his bragging and wanted a way to both shut him up and embarrass him at the same time. I assumed he'd be ticklish somewhere cause, come on, everyone is, and I revealed that to his current attacker".

Jung-Bae considered this. Dae-Ho saw it as an opportunity.

"Wait, so if everyone's ticklish, you must be too In-Ho".

Well, it seemed like the Frontman's plan backfired.

Hope you enjoyed!

[lace-coffin]

HII!! Dude I wanna marry your writing like ?? 😍🥹 but could I possibly get a nsfw thing with a male reader x asa Emory, but the male reader refuses to do anything and just keeps messing a lot of stuff up and like causes a lot of trouble for asa and almost kills one of his bugs (on accident)? And they kind of just go and hide until Asa finally finds them and catches them for punishment ?

How would Asa Emory punish a bratty s/o for hiding from punishment? (Nsfw)

Asa Emory x Bratty!Male!reader

(Reader can be read as cis or trans/gnc!)

Requests are open!

(I typically try to get to requests in a few days to a week <3)

Thank you so much for the kind words! I really appreciate it and I hope u enjoy this! Mwah!

Tw for power dynamics/power exchange, spiders, sexual content, sub/dom, general asa emory stuff

You were really getting on Asa’s last nerve and that was even before today. He loved you, he did, cherished you even, you’re his special little pet, but man were you on thin ice recently.

Recently you seemed hellbent on causing as many issues as you can for asa, being incredibly stubborn about even the most basic orders, at this rate Asa swears he’s going to burst a blood vessel. He’d only asked you to clean up after yourself, dumbly he left you alone in the kitchen under the guise of making a quick snack (well not completely alone, the camera’s were always watching, easy for Asa flip up on his phone and check in on you)

Unsurprisingly Asa came back to a mess, it was probably naive on his part to even allow you to prepare food on your own with the way you’ve been acting up recently, but really?

“Think I messed up the instructions, my bad” you drawl lazily as your head is hung over the back of one of the dining room chairs. Behind you in the kitchenette area the microwave has been left wide open, the inside looking worse for ware and that’s being kind. Food is splattered and stuck to every surface inside the microwave from where it burst, the ‘food’ in question (calling this abomination “food” is generous) lays burnt and smoking, somehow still frozen on the inside and burnt on the outside.

“What the hell did you do?” Asa lets out a defeated sigh, pinching the bridge of his slightly hooked nose.“I’ll make you a snack ok? Just clean the mess first, pet.” You finally look over his way, eyes meeting his dark ones, challenging in a way you know will rile him up. “I don’t think I will..” you respond feigning nonchalance. In reality you can already practically feel the wave of excitement teeming under your skin, knowing how much trouble you’re going to be in.

It seems counterintuitive really, you’re here under your master and things go well if you behave for him yet you deliberately wind him up until he boils over and leaves you sore and breathless. You never were one to have conformist tastes you guess.

Asa clenches as unclenches his fists a few times before continuing. “Clean this up now. I’m not sure why you thought that was a request and not an order, maybe your stupid puppy brain can’t comprehend it. Clean it now and do it properly or come here so I can show you what happens when you’re being a brat. Regardless you’re cleaning it one way or another so you may aswell choose to be a good boy.” Asa tries to keep a level head, despite your best efforts to infuriate him.

The room hangs in silence again as you continue to stare him down, dumb bratty smile painted on your face, oh he’s going to hate this. You can’t wait.

Instead of gracing him with a response you bolt, not unlike his tarantulas when startled.

You almost can’t hear the pissed of rumble he lets out over the sound of your own laughter, skidding down the hallway and around corners. This becomes a lot less amusing as you crash into the ornate dark stained cabinet that houses the enclosure to your masters prized tarantula. You only have time to make a face of pure horror as the glass enclosure shatters against the floor.

Punishment now thrown to the back of your thoughts and the least of your worries you move slowly towards the tarantula as not to startle it worse. Poor bramble is now under a side table and disorientated thanks to you, skittering away under there in fear when the tank fell. (You defiantly named bramble after finding Asa hadn’t named him, appalled. Asa rolled his eyes but eventually started calling it the chosen name in time, he can’t say no to you.)

You slowly prompt bramble onto your hand, letting him plod his way onto you with his chubby legs. You frantically give him a look over, making sure nothing is broken or damaged, he seems to be in perfect health still, just a little shaken. You let out a deep sigh of relief and walk him over to one of the temporary hospital tanks, thinking it will be best for him to stay there until his own tank is replaced for now.

You turn from the tank and meet Asa’s stunned eyes, your not sure wether he’s angry or impressed at your quick thinking with bramble.

“Sorry…I’m sorry sir” you say quietly, upset that you put bramble in danger with your recklessness.

You whip around and sprint off down the haul again, not wanting to face the consequences of your actions so soon. You bunker down under the master bedrooms bed, not an amazing plan you know but it’s the first place your brain came up with in the moment.

The imposing figure trudges after you down the haul, shattered glass from the tank crunching under his heavy boots. He’s pretty sure he knows where you are. You’re an incredibly smart boy when you want to be, not particularly smart at hiding though unfortunately.

The door creaks open and you see your masters boots appear In front of the bed, you wince in anticipation. The yelling never comes.

“I’m not angry pet if that’s what you’re worried about. What happened with Bramble was an accident and you looked after him exceedingly well afterwards. However between that and the kitchen you aren’t getting out of this punishment. You may come out on your own or I will drag you, your choice.”

You think it over for a moment, you know what ever is going to happen once you come out is going to suck. Might as well go out with a bang right? “Get fucked”

“That’s what I guessed, such a pretty thing with such a foul mouth” he shakes his head.

Suddenly you let out an undignified scream as strong gloved hands rip you from under the bed by your leg. You’re slung over his broad shoulder and taken back to your room.

Asa stands you in the middle of the room and closes/locks the door, he turns back to you with a stern face. “Hands” he orders, moving behind you. holding out his palm expectantly. You give a little huff but extend your arms behind you. Asa grabs your wrists firmly and handcuffs them behind your back. tight enough to let the metal bite into you if you squirm too much but not enough to cause damage. Usually he’s a fan of intricate rope work in these situations but he doesn’t have the patience after your performance earlier. He gives a tug on the cuffs and enjoys the groan it pulls out of you.

Asa circles back around you like a vulture, waiting for you to be at your most vulnerable to strike, now face to face and forced to look into the deep inky eyes In front of you. A black nitrile gloved hand strokes over your hair gently. “See? You can be a good boy when you want to be” Asa gives a your cheek two soft patronising pats.

“Down.” He snaps his gloved fingers and points to the floor, this is a basic command you know off by heart, not that you intend on letting it be easy.

You stare Asa down for a few moments, he looks incredibly unimpressed and steely. Before you can even get a smart retort out of your mouth your hair is gripped roughly, your face pulled towards Asa’s. “If you know what’s good for you, you will do what you’re told” he sneers, you yelp in pain as you’re forced to your knees by your hair. “Much better”

Now you’re situated on the wooden floor he reaches to slip his belt from the loops, a dumb horny grin spread on your face. “Aww look at you puppy. you don’t even know what’s about to happen but you’re practically dumb just thinking about my cock aren’t you?” Asa removes the garments on his bottom half and sits on the edge of the bed, legs spread. “Come. You know what to do.”

The way you scramble between his legs is almost pathetic, so eager to get yourself attached to his cock anyway you can. Asa lets out a deep groan of content as you press a little kiss to the head, looking up at him through your lashes. “This is all your good for hm? Looking pretty on a dick?”

You giggle and continue, slowly taking him into your throat, just as your gag reflex starts to kick in he grabs the back of your head, slamming you down onto the last inch of his leaking cock. Your eyes go wide as you struggle, now unable to push him away for air because of the handcuffs. Asa looks down at you with a sick grin as he enjoys your struggling. “Did you forget this was a punishment, mutt? You think you’re going to cause me problems all day and just get to suck my cock as a reward? You must be dumber than I thought.” He chuckles above you.

Wrenching your head back he lets you up for air, loving how ruined you look already, face ruddy and eyes teary, excess saliva connecting to his dick in a string. “Don’t look at me like that, you knew this was coming slut.” You’re pulled back onto his dick until every last inch is so deep In your throat you’re practically breathing it. Asa lets you adjust for a moment before guiding you back and forth, starting off slow as you get used to it but working up to a brutal pace, balls slapping your chin with a lewd sound. After a few minutes of rough treatment Asa finishes, not bothering to alert you first, you don’t deserve it right now.

Asa’s gloved hands press into your scalp as you take all his seed down your throat, not wanting to waste a drop. Once you think you’ve gotten it all you pop off his cock with an exhausted glazed over look. Your master gazes over you fondly, holding your chin with his thumb. “Open up, let me make sure you didn’t waste any” Asa lets out a pleased noise after inspecting your mouth. “Good boy”

You practically vibrate with need, it’s not lost on Asa the way you’ve been wiggling and clenching your thighs together as you gagged on his dick, he knows how impatient you are and how bad he makes you need it. With a final look that says “don’t disappoint me” Asa frees your hands, rubbing over the red marks left behind from your struggle.

“Want me to touch you, puppy?” You nod eagerly, palming yourself over your jeans. “Ah” Asa swats your hand away. “No touching unless I say so, don’t forgot your place. Now, undress and close your eyes for me.” You send him a questioning look but do as requested, throwing your clothes aside for now and wrenching your eyes shut.

You hiss in relief as he finally touches you, wetness already pooling from your need, keening into his hand, loving the attention after waiting so long. You hear something clink and flinch a little, a toy maybe? You make a small noise of complaint as the cold metal touches you. Asa slaps your thigh in retaliation. “Be good” a beat passes as he finishes whatever he’s doing. You look down in suspense only to be instantly mortified. A chastity device sits mockingly around you. (Chastity belt if afab or cock cage if amab < 3 )

“But I- I was good i-“ Asa presses a warm hand to your mouth, cutting your sentence short. “This is the rest of your punishment, did you really think I would get you off after how you’ve been acting?”

Asa grips your chin again, tearing your glare away from the toy you’re essentially trying to burn a hole in with your mind. “What do we say?” He asks sternly, rubbing a hand between your caged legs and making you whine. “Thank you sir”

“You’re welcome, cricket”