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munsonsmixtapes · 2 days

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Tired of Waiting

Anthony Bridgerton x fem!reader

summary: little pieces of your life as you fall in love with Anthony

cw: hurt/comfort

very loosely inspired by Love Story by Taylor Swift

Age 7

The first time you met Anthony, you had been playing hide and seek with your siblings. Your brothers had invited him to play and had declared that he be the seeker. Immediately, you had thought he was cute with his disheveled hair and outfit that was covered in dirt for reasons unknown to you.

He got along with your brothers quite nicely, but didn’t seem to pay you any mind. Almost as if he didn’t like you. And Anthony didn’t like you. He thought you were a know-it-all and didn’t like how you told him what to do.

You hid yourself in the tree above you and tried to hold back your giggles as you watched the boy and your brothers look for you, calling out your name as they did so. You let out a laugh that was a bit too loud and all four of them looked up, Anthony’s eyes going wide as he saw how high up you were. He thought it was very irresponsible of your brothers to let a girl such as yourself climb up there. But instead of helping, they all just laughed along with you.

Taking matters into his own hands, Anthony climbed up to help you despite your objection. You didn’t need his help. You got up there so you could certainly get down. And you certainly didn’t need help from a boy. Especially not one who was your not your brother.

“I do not require your help,” you told him, but he just ignored you, climbing the tree quicker than you ever could.

“No one said you didn’t require it, but I am offering.”

“Then I shall stay up here.” You crossed your arms over your chest, planting yourself down on the branch that you had been standing on. Thinking about letting him help you made you feel weak, like you couldn’t do it for yourself and you most certainly could.

You turned to face the setting sun as Anthony continued to climb to you, paying him no mind. You weren’t leaving that tree until he went away. He was not going to make you look like all of the other women. Because that was not what you were. You were just a girl trying to live out her freedom until it was time to discuss marriage.

Everyone stopped when there was a loud crack coming from below you. You sat up and sure enough, the branch was separating from the tree. Anthony finally reached the branch and him grabbing onto it made it completely break off, causing the both of you to fall to the ground in a loud thud.

He landed on top of you and made multiple apologies even though the fall hadn’t been that far, but you had hurt your knee, probably had even broken it. You screamed in response to the pain and your brothers quickly pulled him off of you and your oldest brother, Henry carried you inside to have your scraped knees taken care of. From that moment, you vowed that you would always hate Anthony Bridgerton.

Age 12

You got over your hatred for Anthony pretty quickly and the two of you had been attached at the hip ever since. You’d chase each other through the garden, threatening to kiss the other once you were caught, but that never actually happened. No matter how much you wanted it to. You knew it was wrong for a boy and a girl to kiss if they were not married, but that didn’t stop you from imagining what it would have been like to press a featherlight kiss to Anthony’s lips.

And Anthony felt just the same. He had realized that the feelings he had thought were hatred were actually of love. He had loved you and more than just a friend. He knew that he was young, but he wanted to marry you. So badly that it hurt. He vowed that as soon as the two of you were of age, he’d do it. If he had the guts.

Age 16

As you got older, you and Anthony talked much of traveling the world together. You’d go to Spain and Paris, and Italy and wherever else your hearts desired. You’d both sit in the study of your house and spin your globe for hours, closing your eyes and spinning the thing and deciding you’d had whatever it landed on to your ever-growing itinerary.

Not long after, Anthony told you that he would be traveling with his uncle through Europe. Coincidentally to the exact places you both had discussed going to. You had been a little upset, but ultimately felt elated for him to be able to do something so exciting. He promised that he would write and bring something back, but that didn’t seem like enough. You had spent every single day for the past nine years together and now you were going to be miles apart with only his letters and gifts to keep your company.

The next week, you saw Anthony off, giving him a hug that lasted a little too long for friends and stayed there until his carriage disappeared down the road. You felt tears fall from your eyes but wiped them away until you were alone.

You knew it was only going to be for a few weeks, but without Anthony, a part of you was missing. A piece of your heart had left with him and you were hoping, praying that he’d finally get the hint and come back and ask for your hand like you had been wanting for years. But he didn’t.

Age 20

Those few weeks had turned into months which eventually turned into years. Anthony had been gone for four years and you eventually threw away the letters he was sending you, knowing that everything he had said was a load of shit. He has promised to come back and marry you, but clearly that hadn’t been of importance since he had yet to do just that.

So, with that, you decided that it was finally your season to find a husband to which your mother reluctantly agreed. She had her heart set on you ending up with Anthony, but since he had failed to propose, she decided that it was probably for the best to just get on with it.

As soon as you had been declared ready to wed, suitors lined up at your door with gifts and many compliments which you took with a smile. All of them were gentleman, but none of them seemed right. The onto one you wanted was out of reach.

You found yourself at yet another ball to meet more suitors that you had forced yourself to go despite your want to stay home and read Anthony’s letters over and over again. You had been dancing with the man your mother had insisted was the right fit for you and no matter how nice he was, you had decided that he was a bore. All he seemed to want to talk about was his family and as nice as it was that he loved them so much, you could only hear about his six siblings for so long.

You looked around the room as he spoke and your eyes locked on a beautiful man by the refreshments table. He has the prettiest brown eyes and hair that was the perfect amount of messy. He was definitely your type and you had been determined to talk to him.

Once the song ended, you excused yourself from Edgar and made a beeline for the man that has caught your interest. His eyes locked on yours and for some reason, they seemed familiar, almost as if you had looked into them before. He gave you a smile and you swore your legs were going to give out at how pretty it was.

“Hello,” you greeted him with a curtsy. “I’m-”

“Lady l/n,” he finished, taking your gloved hand and pressing a kiss to it. How could he have possibly known your name? Unless- No, he was in Paris last you had heard.

“Anthony?” You asked and he just smiled. It really was him! In the flesh! How had he come back and not told you? Perhaps the announcement had been in the letters you had failed to open.

“I believe you should address me as Viscount Bridgerton,” he said, his lips right by your ear, causing you to shiver.

“That would mean that I respect you and at this moment, I don’t.” You pulled your hand from his and headed out of the ballroom, down to the courtyard.

Anthony took off after you, quickly gaining up on you. What had he done wrong? Once upon a time, you worshipped the ground that he walked on and now you were treating him like he was dog shit you had just stepped in.

He told you he was going to come back and marry you and now that he had, you didn’t want anything to do with him. He knew that he had been gone longer than intended, but he had hoped you still would have been happy to see him. Apparently, he was wrong.

Anthony followed you into the hedge maze that took up most of the courtyard and was having trouble keeping up since you had sped up into a run. What even was the purpose of a hedge maze?

He eventually caught you by the wrist and you tried to wriggle out of his grasp, but it was no use. You were tired of running, but you were also tired of waiting. If you said the word, you’d be wed to Edgar within a month and Anthony would have been kicking himself because he hadn’t gotten there sooner. It was what he had deserved.

“Stop running,” he commanded through labored breaths and you just shook your head.

“No,” you replied. “I will not. I am so upset with you that I can’t even comprehend it.”

“Upset with me?” He still had no idea what he had done.

“Yes!” You looked so upset and exhausted that all Anthony wanted to do was hold you in his arms as a way to comfort you.

“Why?”

“Why? Be serious, Anthony! I have waited years for you and I shall not wait any longer. I am done with you.” That was like a stab to the heart. You should have just killed him. It would have hurt a lot less

“Done?” You couldn’t be done with him. You had spent too much time together for that to be true.

“I am to marry Lord Fletcher.” Fuck, he was too late.

“That man is a bore!” You had no interest in hearing his thoughts. He lost his privilege to tell you what he thought when he left.

“He is no such thing!” He really was, but you weren’t going to give Anthony the satisfaction of being right.

“And may I say old enough to be your father.” He was that too, but you weren’t really going to marry him so it didn’t matter.

“But he will be my husband. A role you could have taken on if you had bothered to show up.” With that, he he let go of your hand and watched you move further into the maze.

“But he doesn’t love you as much as I!” He yelled, loud enough for you to hear. You quickly turned around and marched towards him and grabbed him by his coat before pressing your lips to his. You felt him gasp into your mouth but he quickly melted into you, his lips moving with yours.

“You love me,” you said against his lips.

“More than you’ll ever know.” He pulled away and reached into his pocket for the ring he had bought for you in Paris. He opened the box you gasped at the beautiful ring sitting inside it.

“Anthony, it’s beautiful.”

“And it’s yours.” He removed the ring from the box and slid it onto your finger, tears welling up in both of your eyes. “It always was.”

“I’m sorry. I was horrible to you.”

“No apologies necessary,” he shook his head, pulling you into another deep kiss. “Now, shall we go make the announcement?” He asked, offering you his arm.

“We shall,” you nodded and looped your arm through his, the two of you making your way back into the ballroom to announce your much anticipated engagement.

#bridgerton #anthony bridgerton #anthony bridgerton x reader #anthony bridgerton x you #anthony bridgerton smut #anthony bridgeton fluff

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drunk-person · 3 days

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Burned by you (One Shot)

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x wife!reader

Summary: After a few months of marriage, the reader tries to see in her always well-composed and taciturn husband the frightening dragon that she was told to fear before the wedding, but without success. Until one afternoon a small incident pushes Aemond over the edge and she realizes her wish to wake the dragon.

WARNING: 18+ mdni! Smut, p in v, fingering, possessive and jealousy sex, dom/sub tones if you squint, mentions of murder, no description for reader.

Word cont: 1.900 k

Author's note: Hi, this is my first one short published, I've written others, but I never posted them and this one was written this afternoon and I thought "why not?". I usually write better than this, but this was a jumbled part of my mind that I finally decided to share, hope someone likes it. English is not my first language so be kind if you can.

Aemond's stoic manner almost always disturbed his young wife. No matter how much she saw the fire cross her eye, it never burned what was around her. Except in the training yard, she never saw him out of composure, and sometimes not even in the training yard he lost his composure. His hair was always well-groomed, his clothes were well-adjusted and his gaze was always calculated. She got tired. She wanted to see the beast she knew was underneath. She wanted the fire that shone every now and then in his eyes to consume her. She wanted to be burned by the dragon. So she did what she could do best, teased him to death.

She smiled everywhere in the way she knew Aemond didn't like her to do. She walked through the courtyards in her dresses considered most revealing. She would even grant a dance or two to some braggart Lord, but he remained just as stoic. The day she gave Prince Jacaerys a dance she thought she saw his eyes sparkle, but soon he was talking to his sister and she lost sight of his eyes.

Y/n she got tired of that game in which she was visibly losing. She was resigned to knowing that she would never see the dragon she had been warned about when she got married. She was walking calmly through the gardens while thinking when she felt the heel of the boot she was wearing give way on her. And with a gasp she almost fell face first onto the grass in front, but before that, a rough hand caught her.

— Is my princess okay? — The young gardener asked helpfully.

— My shoe broke. — She said while leaning on the boy who must have been a few years older than her.

— Here, let me help. — The gardener placed her hand on his shoulder and crouched close to the ground while removing the shoe from Y/n's foot, who didn't even notice the compromising position in which she found herself with the boy practically between her legs.

Suddenly came the cold and menacing voice from her back, causing every hair on her body to stand on end.

— Wife. — She immediately turned back, stepping with her bare foot on the grass, while the gardener released her and practically fell into a sitting position on the garden lawn. Aemond's eyes were on fire, her jaw was clenched and her body was tense like a rope stretched to its limit.

— Husband, nothing happened. — She tried to explain quickly. — My shoe broke and got stuck on the lawn, he was just…

— Quiet. — Aemond hissed harshly.

— But husband...

— I said to keep quiet. — He spoke with a firm voice as he approached them both.

He guided his hand to her neck and caressed it gently as he closed one of his hands and squeezed it, but not enough to hurt. Y/n looked him in the eyes, scared and without moving a single muscle.

— Go to our chambers and wait for me there. — He practically spat out the words as he released her neck without any delicacy.

Y/n didn't question him anymore, she just turned her back and ran barefoot towards their shared chambers without even looking at the gardener, who was still lying on the grass.

¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤

She walked around the room without even being able to breathe. What would happen? What was her husband thinking now? Where he was? It seemed like hours had passed since the garden. And then without warning the door opened and she immediately turned towards it, but the sight that came was of something completely unheard of.

Aemond walked through the door with her hands, her face and her own clothes covered in blood, a frightening look on her face. Her steps were stiff as he slowly walked towards her.

— Husband, what happened? — She asked worried, but unable to move towards him.

— Do you want to know what happened? What did I have to do? — He asked angrily when he finally approached her and held her jaw firmly in his right hand, squeezing it tightly. — I made that filthy gardener fight me.

Y/n’s heart sank for the poor guy. She knew that no one in the royal guard was a match for Aemond, a young gardener would never be. But why was it covered in blood?

— And when I beat him without any major complications. — He paused before concluding in an even more cruel voice. — I beheaded him myself.

Y/n brought her hands to her lips as she imagined the brutal scene in front of her.

— Sad for your loving wife? — He practically shouted as he pulled her hair back forcing her to look into his eyes. Y/n quickly shook her head in visible despair.

— He was not my lover. I swear husband! He was just taking my shoe off the grass. — She whimpered as Aemond pulled even more of her hair.

— I may have only one eye but I'm not blind, wife. — He growled, looking into her eyes. — That man didn't look at you as someone who just wanted to help you with a shoe.— Husband... — She tried speak, but Aemond slapped her.

— I tried to treat you the best I could, but if you want to act like a common whore, then I'll treat you like a common whore. — Aemond pulled out his dagger and Y/n's eyes widened, he then used it to tear the entire dress she was wearing, ripping it off her in moments, leaving only her undershirt, which he tore with his own hands, making Y/n gasp.

Aemond bent her over the table and before Y/n could understand anything, she felt a new slap on her ass and let out a scream of surprise. Without warning, Aemond violently separated her ass cheeks, making her feel exposed, her whole body seemed to burn with shame. She felt herself heat up even more as she heard her husband laugh evilly and felt his breath against her wet folds.

— A real little whore. — He inserted two fingers at once into her intimacy, making her squirm. — Wet and anxious while waiting to be fucked.

She moaned outrageously as she felt his fingers fucking her without mercy. Her body was lying on the table and while he was fucking her with one hand, Aemond held her firmly by the neck, keeping her in the same position. She felt that the air was running out of her and the pressure in her belly was almost unbearable, and when her husband removed his hand from her neck and took it to the top of her thighs, violently pinching her pearl, she screamed with pleasure and pain as she came against Aemond's hands, who didn't stop his movements for even a second.

The Excessive Stimulation was making her go crazy. Aemond, without caring, slapped her on the buttock, making her grip the table tightly, the slap was followed by another, and another, and another, until Y/n was reduced to a crying and desperate mess.

— Husband. — She begged, babbling and drooling on the table top. - Please…

Aemond just laughed and bit her shoulder firmly, as he penetrated her all at once with his length, she whimpered even more at the sudden intrusion. And without waiting for her to get used to it like he always did, he started fucking her violently. Aemond took his hands to her hair, entangling his hands there and pulling her head back making her face their reflection in the mirror.

The Vision made Y/n moan even more, she was completely naked and Aemond was clothed. His hair was messy and scattered everywhere, his clothes were a mess, his face and part of his skin were covered in blood, and his look... oh, his look looked like that of a mad man. The flame that was there could burn the entire room, and it was certainly burning her.

— I should have fucked you in front of that bastard before I ripped his head off. — Aemond growled in her ear as he fucked her even harder and Y/n cried uncontrollably amid moans and panting. — Maybe I'll ask them to bring his head and hang it in our room so he can watch as I fuck you every night in the seven fucking hells. — Y/n let out a scream when she heard him say those things. The hand that squeezed her waist did so with such force that it hurt, as he went deeper and deeper into her.

— You have to know, wife. — He practically growled as he bit her neck violently. — That you are mine, if I see you dancing with that bastard Strong again I will make sure that an accident occurs and he falls from one of the towers. — He slapped her hard on the ass when he said that.

— If any of these servants touch your skin again, I will rip their head off in front of you. — He gave a strong thrust inside her as he stared at her in the mirror with his eyes burning. — I will kill anyone who dares to come close to what is mine. — He hissed in an almost venomous way as he squeezed her breasts firmly and Y/n felt her whole body shake with the uncontrolled pleasure that erupted through her body.

— Say my name, say the name of the owner of this pussy and this body. — Aemond grunted, slapping her pearl sharply and Y/n saw stars. She came screaming his name at the top of her lungs to anyone who would listen.

— Whore. — Aemond moaned in her ear as he continued fucking her. — Filthy whore. — He bit her ear as she cried amidst her orgasm. — My little whore.

— Yours. — She cried, rubbing herself against him uncontrollably, even with the pain of overstimulation. — You whore, only yours.

And Aemond came deep inside her with a moan that sounded like a growl as he bit and sucked on her neck.

— Never do that again, wife, or I guarantee you I won't be so indolent. — Her husband's breathless voice sounded against her neck.She nodded weakly and with no more strength in her body, she collapsed onto the table again.

¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤

The sun was high in the sky when Y/n woke up the next day, still naked as on her name day, alone in bed and with all her painful limbs. Aemond, as always, had left very early, and she got up from the bed with difficulty, feeling her legs wobble like she hadn't felt since her first night with her husband.

She walked slowly to the mirror and sighed at the image before her, bruises of all colors covered her body, neck, thighs, hips, waist, ass, breasts. All covered in Aemond's handprints or her bite marks.

She smiled mischievously as she watched herself and lightly bit her lower lip as she remembered the other night. She barely noticed the door opening, and only looked up when she heard it close. Through her mirror her gaze met Aemond's and she could see his eyes burning like fire as he addressed her.

She had awakened the dragon, and now there would be no turning back.

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jflemings · 3 days

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— yard sale

pairing: alessia russo x reader

synopsis: you pack up your life and move far away from the supposed love of you life

warnings: just lots of angst

୧ ‧₊˚ 📦 ⋅ ˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚

I put a sign on a telephone pole with the address below I wrote the time and I circled in bold, everything must go

you knew that it was time for you to leave. you and alessia's relationship had crumbled from beneath your feet quickly and mercilessly. one day you two were happy and planning a future and the next you were throwing her out and telling her that you never wanted to see her again.

so here you were, sitting out front of your place with a dingy clothes rack and boxes of all your meaningless things ready to sell so that you could pack up your life in london and get the fuck out.

a pair of young teenage girls hand you some clothes, a pair of shoes and a necklace along with the money to pay. you smile gratefully and put the items in a plastic bag before waving them goodbye, not noticing the figure standing a little bit away from where you were sitting. the head of blonde hair isn't the thing that catches your eye, it's the pair of arsenal trackies she's wearing. your eyes travel from the number six on her pants all the way up to her face where her eyes are boring into you.

you curtly nod and attempt to distract yourself with putting some other shirts on hangers when she slowly makes her way over. leah tucks her hands in the pocket of her jumper and digs her toe in the ground, her head hung low like she’s thinking.

sneaking a glance at her you clear your throat “leah”

“hey” she says surprised like she wasn’t expecting you to see her standing right in front of you “bit of spring cleaning?”

you half smirk and grab more hangers from the box next to you “moving. i don’t want to take everything”

the lioness captain stands up straight “you’re moving? where to?”

“chicago”

“oh wow. so far away”

you roll your eyes “you here to buy something or just to look around?” your patience is quickly wearing thin every moment she tries to make small talk. it wasn’t really like leah, the few times you’d hung out with her in a group setting she always had a purpose for a conversation. it wasn’t that she necessarily hated small talk, she just wasn’t good at it. at all.

“honestly i came to see how you were doing” she scratches the back of her neck “i saw the sign and, y’know”

nodding your head, you smile at another girl handing you money for a black dress that alessia had convinced you to buy when you were her date for an event. it was classy and sleek, and you remembered the feeling of alessia’s hands all over you through the night. you watch the girl go wistfully before directing your attention back to the footballer.

“thanks, really, but it wasn’t needed. i’m fine”

you know that leah sees right through you but she doesn’t argue, instead excusing herself and giving a tight lipped smile to people she passes as she walks back to her car. you watch her trot across the street to her car. she practically throws the door open and slides in hastily, like she had suddenly remembered that she needed to be somewhere.

before she drove off you heard her phone ring through the bluetooth in her car. if it wasn’t so loud you wouldn’t have heard the very familiar ‘hello’ from the other end of the line.

Every perfect memory Stacked in boxes on the street Take what's left of you and me

when leah told alessia that you were packing up your whole life and moving, she almost couldn’t believe it. for three straight nights after that conversation she had laid in bed tossing and turning and trying to convince herself that it wasn’t real, that you weren’t moving thousands of kilometres away from her.

one morning before an early training session she drove past your flat. she remembers how cold it was, and how even her fleece jumper couldn’t stop her from shivering as she turned down your street.

the movers outside your place made her stomach turn. she thought she was going to throw up when she saw you putting boxes into the back of the van with a smile on your face. you were happily chatting to one of the movers and she could tell just by the way you were smiling that you were excited.

the possibility that you were going to be happy without her in your life makes her speed down the rest of your street. she calls in sick to training that day and doesn’t answer leah or kyra’s texts.

leah doesn’t have to ask her what’s wrong when she turns up at her front door later that day. the tears on alessia’s sweatshirt tell leah everything she needs to know.

I tried to call but you didn't call back to come and get you things I thought about just striking a match but it's hard to burn a memory

you had called and texted her so that she could come and get the things she didn't take with her when you threw her out. despite your best efforts to be the bigger person, the striker didn't once get back to you, instead leaving you on delivered and sending you straight to voicemail.

you gave up quickly after that, choosing to pack up your life around the small pile of things that sat in the corner of your quickly emptying bedroom. you packed her belongings into a cardboard box and labelled it ALESSIA, the black marker you used to do so feathering and squeaking.

you packed it into storage with the rest of your belongings and left it with everything you weren’t able to take with you to chicago. you had thought about burning her things, just simply throwing them into the bonfire pit in your small backyard, but you knew that it didn’t matter what you did with her things. the memories would linger.

Every empty picture frame All the shit that I tried to save Name your price, you can have my pain

one way you decided to cope was by taking every photo that you had framed of the two of you and throwing it out.

you balled them up and threw them in the trash without a second thought, not once sparing a glance and alessia’s smiling face as you tossed her away. you ended up donating all the empty frames to your local thrift, and whatever couldn’t be donated ended up thrown out.

every photo was a memory of what once was. each holiday, anniversary and special moment had been captured and put behind glass for what you thought would be forever. alessia had grown fond of decorating the walls of both of your places with photos of the two of you. her entry hall had been a shrine to your relationship and people would often comment how lucky the both of you were to have found eachother.

everlasting love was something that you had once believed in, something that you once treated as gospel. it was hard to deal with the fact that you had suddenly lost belief in it. in her.

It's time to empty out the place (hey!) I used to love but now I hate

you had gotten so incredibly lucky with your flat. rent was a decent price, it was close to work, within walking distance from a quaint little bookshop and it only took lessi six minutes to get from her place to yours.

it was a dream for you, one that you quickly embraced. you made your place your own with small touches of yourself around the place. from the decor, to the furniture, even to the way things were laid out. your place was definitely yours.

slowly but surely you emptied the home you once loved. took down the pictures, sold the furniture and tossed anything that made you think of your ex. you hollowed out your home and carved a hole into your heart, mercilessly hacking away pieces of yourself that no longer fit who you were.

now as you stand with your hand on the doorknob to your front door, the ghost of memories prance through the empty halls and past you like you’re watching your own memories back on a tv.

it hurt to leave but it hurt more to know that there was nothing you could’ve done to prevent you and alessia ending the way you did.

All the love is, all the love is gone

#pegs woso #woso #woso x reader #woso fic #woso imagine #woso fanfics #alessia russo #alessia russo x reader #alessia russo fic #alessia russo imagine #arsenal #lionesses #arsenal x reader

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flemingsfreckles · 13 hours

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Grandkids

Jessie Fleming x Reader (parent fic)

Synopsis: You and Jessie catch wind that your teenage daughter might have a boyfriend. Jessie loses her mind over it.

Warnings: discussions of sex, bird and the bees type conversation

WC: 1.7k

A/N: literally no one asked for this but I’m struggling to write. This is just another short blurb that got written because I had a single thought about Jessie being a mom to teenagers and having to give her kids the birds and the bees talk.

When your children had gotten home from school that day, you and Jessie were in the office, organizing old documents. The office was just located off the kitchen where your two children had walked through the door.

Your youngest child, Riley was already interrogating at his older sister. “So what is he your boyfriend now, are you guys all gross and in love?” You paused what you were doing, listening further into the conversation.

“Stop Riley.”

“Amelia and Nick sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G!” Your younger one continues to taunt his sister

“Ughhh, shut up!” Your daughter's voice begins to fade, you assume she’s walking out of the room and away from the teasing that’s going on.

“Where are you going? To call your boyfriend?” You hear Riley call after her followed shortly by the slamming of a bedroom door. Normally the door slamming would be immediate grounds for either you or Jessie to go talk with your daughter. However you and your wife both remained frozen in the office.

You hear your son grab something from the fridge and make his way to his own room before closing the door.

When you heard his bedroom door close Jessie started speaking. “Did he just say her boyfriend?”

“I think so? I don’t know?” You shrug at your wife before turning to put more papers away, no longer being distracted by the conversation between your teenagers.

“Why are you fine with this?” Jessie now standing, no longer caring to organize and shred paper. Clearly Jessie was not taking the new information well.

“Fine with what?” You look at Jessie, taking the papers in her hands to finish filing them away.

“Our daughter having a boyfriend.” She says as if it’s the most obvious answer.

“Oh right, I’m sorry, she didn’t turn out gay like us, we tried our best.” You feel the smile creeping across your face. “Maybe we should’ve let her play softball and dressed her in more flannels as a little kid.”

“Can you take something seriously for once?!” Jessie was usually a fan of your humor but it appeared that today was not the day for it. She was clearly upset.

“Jessie, first of all, Riley is 15 he might not actually know what he’s talking about, he might’ve just overheard some school gossip. Second of all, Amelia is 17, not 12, she can have a boyfriend.” You roll your eyes at your wife, seeing and hearing the panic that she was having.

“I thought we had agreed when she was born that she wasn’t allowed to date until she was 25!” Jessie was whispering yelling at you, not wanting to alert your children.

“That was a joke Jessie, I’m not controlling my kid’s romantic life until they’re 25!” You both had jokingly talked that you wouldn’t let anyone near her, she was your little girl, you both overbearing as brand new parents. You had forgotten about that, obviously realizing that she’s a human and will likely date before she’s 25.

“Well she can’t have a boyfriend.” She crosses her arms, staring at you like you’re the bad guy in this situation. You throw your arms out, not sure why Jessie is upset with you.

“She’s 17, it’s fine, we don’t even know if it’s actually a boyfriend.” You tried to reason with your wife but you could practically see the steam coming from her ears.

“She’s too young to have a boyfriend, she’s too young to be having sex!” Jessie whispers the word ‘sex’ as if just saying it was going to cause a teenage pregnancy somewhere in the world. “We cannot have grandkids yet!”

“Oh my god,” you start to laugh. “You’re fully losing it over this aren’t you?” You couldn’t believe Jessie’s dramatic jump from a potential boyfriend to your daughter giving you grandkids in a matter of seconds.

“I don’t know why you’re so okay with our daughter having sex with a boy we’ve never even met!” Jessie is wildly waving her hands, her face has a look of panic on it.

“Alright, sit, take a deep breath.” You push Jessie’s shoulders forcing her to put her weight up against the desk, half sitting on it. She takes a deep breath and you take one with her. You keep your hands on her shoulders, giving them a squeeze as you talk to her.

“We don’t know he’s her boyfriend. Let’s not jump to conclusions here. Amelia is a smart girl, you know that.” You take her hands in yours. “If she’s determined that now is the time she wants to start dating, I think we need to understand that that’s okay. We can talk with her about it. We’ll tell her our expectations, the expectations we have for her and whoever she wants to date. It’ll be fine.”

Jessie takes her hands from yours, crossing her arms over her chest, letting out a small huff. “But it’s not fine, I don’t trust him, I don’t think he has good intentions.”

“You’ve never met the kid, Jessie just because he’s a teenage boy, doesn’t mean he only wants sex from her.” You pause before you continue, knowing your wife would likely not be happy with the next few words you said. “And Jessie,” you grab her face making her look at you. “if she is dating this boy or dating anyone, and she’s curious about the physical intimacy that comes with that, I think that’s okay.”

“No its-” you hold up your hand to stop Jessie’s sentence.

“Let me finish. If she’s curious and has questions, I’d rather she feel comfortable coming to us than to the internet or her friends who don’t know and will give her terrible information. Yes, 17 is young, but she’s practically an adult Jessie. She’ll be off at school in a year, where she won’t have us to help her with these things.” You can practically see the rage building up in your wife’s face. “Now I'm not going to sit here and tell her to go have sex, but I'm not going to let our daughter be taught that sex is a sinful or scary thing, you know that. We’ve raised them to be open and honest about sex so far, we can’t become a sex-negative household now that she’s at that age where it might be a thought. We can talk with her, have an adult conversation. We’ll explain the emotional aspect that comes with it, we’ll make sure she understands all the aspects of what it means to have sex with someone. And that if,” you take a deep breath, “if she’s planning on, or has any interest in having sex, we’ll get her set with birth control or condoms, probably both.”

“She’s too young, putting her on birth control would be like offering to buy them a hotel room to do it.” You couldn’t believe Jessie’s behavior still, you thought your reasoning would’ve helped her opinion at least a little.

When you first learned you were having a girl, Jessie was admient that no one would go near your daughter until she was 30. But the two of you had done your best to raise your kids to be informed, you taught them about consent early, you taught them the anatomy of where babies come from, when your daughter turned 14, you and Jessie sat her down, giving her the full bird and the bees talk. You did most of the talking, Jessie was there but she looked just as mortified as your daughter did. You taught her sex wasn’t bad and sex wasn’t just for babies, it was for intimacy, connection, enjoyment, it was fun, it was a way to connect with another person, but that didn’t make it any less serious. Jessie had been on board before with these discussions, she didn’t always participate fully, but she was always there and you knew your daughter had gone to her to ask her some questions after to get clarification. But now that the reality of your daughter starting this part of her life was real, Jessie had done a 180.

“Jessie, she’s a teenager, teenagers have hormones. If she wants to have sex, it’s going to happen, teenagers find a way whether we like it or not. I’d rather her be having safe, informed, and protected sex, than unsafe sex in a boy’s mom’s car in a sketchy dark parking lot in the middle of nowhere just so they can avoid getting caught.”

You both sit in silence, Jessie looks at the ground and you look at her.

“I hate that you’re right.” She mumbles after a few minutes.

“I know.” You kiss her cheek with a smile. “Jessie” you grab your wife’s hand, your thumb rubbing over where her wedding band and engagement ring sat, “Let’s just go talk to her, that way we’re not sitting here guessing and making up scenarios. For all we know it’s not a boyfriend.”

“I just can’t believe she wouldn’t tell us. She’s our little girl, she used to tell us everything.” You can now see the sadness in Jessie’s eyes.

“I know, but our little girl is growing up, she’s a moody teenager now, she’s not going to want to share everything with us, and that’s okay.” You sit down next to Jessie, resting your head on her shoulder as you both stare at the door of the office.

“I want her to go back to being so little. I used to be able to hold her in one arm.”

“I know, they both used to be so little.” You and Jessie sat together, your head on her shoulder, reminiscing on the 17 years that seemed to have flown by. Thinking about how small their fingers used to be, how small their clothes were, how they’d babble at you, all of that gone, you now had two grown children.

“We did a pretty good job with them I think. They’re good people.”

“Yeah,” Jessie laughs, “just not to each other.”

“Well they’re siblings.” You respond back. You realize you’ll probably have to talk to your son too about his teasing. “Ready to go talk to her?” You ask Jessie.

“I don’t think I’ll ever be ready to watch her grow up but I don’t think I have a choice.” Jessie says pushing herself off the desk. “Let’s go.”

#jessie fleming #jflem #jessie fleming x reader #jessie fleming imagine #woso imagine #jessie fleming blurb

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fluentmoviequoter · 1 day

Text

The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly

Pairing: Tim Bradford x fem!rookie!reader

Summary: Tim Bradford cares more about you, his boot, than he should. You're injured and he shows his care without thinking.

Warnings: fluff, brief insecurity, description of injuries and stitches. r has hair long enough to pull back but no specific qualities!

Word Count. 1.0k+ words

A/N: This is just a little something I wrote last night. A scene of Tim being soft toward you, his favorite rookie. :)

Masterlist | Tim Bradford Masterlist | Request Info/Fandom List

Tim Bradford can be gruff, pushy, and, at times, downright mean. But he never pushes his trainees more than they can handle, and his relentless tests and trials are for their benefit. By leading them to their potential or letting them fall short of it, he shows himself and them that they do (or in many cases, don’t) have what it takes. So, when people ask you if Tim Bradford is hard to work with or a tough TO, the answer is usually yes.

But then there are moments like this.

As you sit in the emergency room with a bloody wad of paper towels wrapped around your hand and your hair falling in your face, you watch Tim. He’s been on the phone since you arrived, pacing as he explains what happened to Sergeant Greg. You hadn’t seen Tim worried about you like this before today, but the moment he noticed the concerning amount of blood dripping from your hand as you stood your ground against an armed suspect, he showed you a side of himself that you’d never seen before.

“Let’s get that hand looked at. I’m Dr. Grace Sawyer.”

You nod at Grace as you stand and brace your injured hand against the other. She smiles kindly as you introduce yourself and leads you into a nearby room.

“Take a seat and I’ll unwrap Officer Bradford’s patch job,” she instructs.

After you sit and extend your hand toward her, she carefully unwraps the blood-soaked towels and deposits it into a biohazard container behind her. The gash across your palm and over the side of your wrist begins bleeding again without the pressure of Tim’s impromptu wrap job. He yelled at you while he did it, but you know why.

“How’d this happen?” Grace asks.

“I, uh… I was supposed to stay out of the way until our backup got there, but a guy ran up behind Officer Bradford, my TO, with a machete. I jumped in before I thought about it," you answer.

“Clearly,” Tim grumbles as he walks in. “How is she?” he asks Grace.

“I’m going to put in a few stitches. I’ll wrap it so she can get back to work, though. Is this your dominant hand?”

“No,” you answer softly, looking at Tim.

Tim nods once before he walks to stand behind you. You feel his fingers in your hair before you can ask what he’s doing. Less than an hour ago, someone else had their fingers on your scalp, but you weren’t as accepting of the touch.

“What are you doing?” you ask as he works your ponytail holder loose.

“Fixing your hair. This look isn’t exactly department-approved and you can do it with stitches in your palm,” Tim answers.

You turn your attention toward Grace and watch her work instead of focusing on how softly Tim is touching you or how close his chest is to your back. His warmth and care for you threaten to distract you from why you're here and what you're supposed to do when you leave.

“Sorry,” he murmurs when his finger hooks on a tangle.

“It’s okay,” you reply. “Thank you.”

“Are you okay?” Tim asks.

“I am. Thanks to you.”

“I’ll be right back. Don’t move that hand,” Grace says.

She winks as she stands, and you wonder if she knows how much trouble you’d get in for making a move on your TO. Not that you haven’t thought about it. Although, it always ends in rejection, even in your daydreams. The downside of knowing Tim so well, you think.

“I don’t even know how he got my hand and my hair so fast,” you admit. “It was like I felt the slice and then he was yanking me backward.”

“You stood your ground well,” Tim responds. “Not that I’m praising you disobeying me and jumping in, but what you did was well done. Unnecessary, but properly executed.”

“Unnecessary?” you repeat. “I’ll remember that next time a guy is about to use a machete against your back.”

“You know what I mean,” Tim adds quietly.

He drops his hands to your shoulders briefly, and when he pulls away, you shiver at the loss of warmth.

“It’s not perfect, or exactly how you had it,” he begins as he rounds the exam table.

“It’s great. Thank you,” you interject. “I really do appreciate it.”

“Just don’t let it happen again.”

“Trust me, I’ll try. Twelve stitches across my palm was never the goal.”

Tim rolls his eyes and sits in a nearby chair to wait for Grace to finish treating your cut. You watch him, and when you notice his shoulders drop, you push him back for once.

“You know, I’ve been looking for a new hairstylist for an event next month,” you say.

“No,” Tim answers.

He crosses his arms tightly against his chest and tilts his head away from you. That means it’s working.

“But you did so well! I mean, I haven’t felt this good because of a hairstyle since… I can’t remember.”

“Then learn to do it yourself.”

“But you’re my partner,” you argue with a pout.

“When I said I’d be with you through the good, the bad, and the ugly, that’s not exactly what I meant.”

“But I’ll be ugly without beautiful hairstyles like this!”

Tim straightens quickly and says, “You’re kidding. Right?”

You shrug and look at the stitches lining your hand.

“You’re beautiful,” he adds. “No hair-do can change that or make it untrue.”

“Thanks,” you whisper.

“I’m back,” Grace announces. “Let me wrap this and you’ll be good to go.”

“About time,” Tim sighs. “Way to waste our afternoon, boot.”

You don’t hear a word he says. The only thing worth remembering for the foreseeable future is Tim Bradford saying, ‘You’re beautiful. No hair-do can change that or make it untrue.’ When you climb back into the shop a few minutes later, you realize that life will be hard with one of your hands out of commission.

“How am I supposed to do anything without bothering this?” you ask.

“Carefully. You just…” Tim sighs and knocks his knuckles against the steering wheel for a moment. Then he says, “Just call me if you need help.”

It takes you a second to register what he said and believe you heard him correctly, and your questioning sound communicates that.

“Don’t make me regret it,” he adds.

“Is this the ugly you meant?” you tease.

“No,” Tim answers. “This is the good.”

#tim bradford x reader #tim bradford fic #tim bradford the rookie #tim bradford imagine #tim bradford #tim bradford fluff #fem!reader #hanna writes✯

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oneforthemunny · 6 hours

Note

1, A, ! (You don't have to write this one. 😈)

for the mind who came up with this game idea??? yes i do. your roll: cowboy!eddie, over the knee, and hand ;)

minors dni. dom/sub themes, spanking, a little mocking. teasing/meanish!eddie.

Eddie huffed, tossing the shovel down with a dramatic grunt. "You're just gonna stand there?" You didn't need to see him to know that his gloved hands were on his hips, jaw ground tight in annoyance.

You kept your back to him, defiant and furious. Too stubborn to retreat to the house in defeat that you hadn't got either things you wanted, so you stood, making him painfully aware of your displeasure.

"I told you I'd help you after 'while-"

"-It's been after while." You snapped, eyes rolling hard. "You always do this-"

"-Oh, don't you even start-"

"-You don't want me to do anything because I'll hurt myself, but then you put the things I ask you to do at the very bottom of your to do list." You turned, glaring at him pointedly.

Eddie's lips rolled, eyes slitting in a glare. "I do not." He snapped. "I told you this morning, I'd help you when I got done with everything I needed to. There's things I need to do, and I told you that."

You scoffed, starting to retort. Eddie stepped forward, boots heavy on the wooden barn floor. "And you're just mad I didn't help you when you wanted to."

"You said-"

"-I said, when I was done." Eddie snapped. "I'm not done, and your whining is only slowing me down." You pouted at him, petulant and little embarrassed.

Eddie softened at your grumpy look, arms crossed over your chest, lip jutted in fury. "Why don't you just sit out here, and keep me company while I finish this, alright?" He nodded towards the small stool in the corner. "Talk to me nice while I finish this up."

"Why don't I just go do it myself?" You grumbled, stomping towards the stool in the corner. "It can't be that hard."

"Quit that." Eddie clicked. "I've told you now. I'll help you put the feeder in, just let me-"

"-I can do it." You snapped stubbornly. "You act like I'm incompetent-"

"-What?-"

"-Like I'm stupid," You sneered. "I am more than capable of putting a feeder in the coop-"

"-I never said you weren't, so don't start puttin' word in my mouth that you know I never said." Eddie was beyond annoyed now, teetering on furious, patience running thin at your little bratty attitude.

"But you're not letting me." You scoffed, throwing your hands up in annoyance, giving him a furious eye roll. "That makes soo much sense. Wait for you, even though I can do it, but wait for you because-"

"-Why are you being so hateful?" Eddie snapped, voice booming loud enough to have Medusa stopping in the pastures, looking at Eddie with caution. "I told you I'd help you when I got done, you've come out here and been nothin' but mean-"

"-I don't understand why I can't just do it-"

Eddie gawked at you, disbelief, annoyance, all mixed up and apparent on his face. "Are you- You're seriously fightin' with me about this still? When I've told you why?" He blinked at you. "What? Are you just wantin' a spankin'? Wanting to get on my nerves and piss me off so I'll spank you? Is that it?"

Your cheeks burned with embarrassment, fused with furious heat. "No," You snapped. "I want you to help me." Maybe it was a little true? At least he'd give you attention.

"Alright," Eddie pulled his gloves off with a huff, tossing them on the wheelbarrow of hay besides him. "I've had enough. Get over here."

"What?" You squeaked, an excited thrill rushing through your body straight to your core. "No!"

"Yes," Eddie snapped, heavy soled stepped bounding towards you. You stood up but didn't back away, letting him catch you by the arm, hand firm on your upper arm. It nearly had you drooling, dominance oozing out of him, it was magnetic.

"You've been acting awfully mean all day," Eddie grumbled, sitting on the small wooden bench by the door, pulling you over his knees. "Shoulda known this was what you were wanting."

"I don't." You huffed, a half hearted wiggle over his knee in protest that he saw right through, shoving your little sundress up.

"Right," Eddie scoffed sarcastically, rolling his eyes. "You've just been mean for fun then? Just to piss me off."

"You're pissing me of- ow!" You pushed against his leg, body bucking in the air at the first sharp smack of his calloused hand on your ass.

Eddie gritted his teeth, wrestling you back into place, before delivering two more searing swats to each cheek. You wiggled, writhed, put up on helluva fight- which he was used to, loved it, really. He'd told you at the beginning of your relationship, when you'd first started exploring your little dynamic, that you rivaled even the wildest broncos. "Rode and tamed them before, so I'll do the same to you," Eddie had grinned at you. "You're a lot wilder than them, baby, I'll give you that."

Your hips lifted when Eddie gave a harsh smack to the center of your ass, vibrations of pain and pleasure shaking right into your core, leaving you whimpering desperately.

Eddie snickered lightly. "Knew it, look at you." He tsked lightly. "Like a cat in heat, Christ almighty."

"I am not!" You whined, palms pressing into the wood of the bench, Eddie's hand pressing you back into place. "Stop it, Eddie." It was half-hearted, your body betraying you with every deep arch of your spine towards his touch.

Eddie scoffed, squeezing the fat of your ass firmly, grinning at how you squealed, your skin raw from his assault. "Should've just told me you wanted a spanking instead of bein' mean." He slapped your ass again, swallowing at the recoil.

"I didn't." You whined.

"Hmm," Eddie pulled your cheeks apart, looking at your drooling, puffy lips between your legs. So painfully wet, he could taste it, licking his lips at the thought of burying himself between your legs right here.

You shuddered, turning your face into your folded arms in front of you in excited shame. Eddie continued delivering sharp smacks to each cheek, a steady rhythm building, not missing the way your hips rose and fell, grinding desperately onto whatever was beneath you for friction.

When Eddie finished, giving you a final smack to the center of your ass that had you crying out, you looked at him with an exaggerated pout.

"Aw, look at you, baby. Just a pitiful little thing, aren't ya?" Eddie cooed nearly mockingly. He pinched your jutted lip lightly, grinning when you whined. "You gonna be good for me?"

"Yes," You purred, smug- you were finally getting what you wanted.

"Good." Eddie pushed down your dress, patting your ass. "Take a seat and wait for me. I'll be done soon."

Your mouth fell in shock, watching him adjust himself before grabbing his gloves and going back to work.

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imshii-kin · 2 days

Text

Good Luck

Chapter # 4 As Sweet as Sugar Cookies

Platonic Yandere Dc x reincarnated Reader

Wattpad

Prologue, Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4 (You are here), Chapter 5

Just a spoonful of sugar helps the medicine go down. - Mary Poppins

*.��:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.*

"No," Tim says crossing his arms. "I have homework to catch up on, I can't play Minecraft with you right now."

Y/n frowns, "But Tim," she whines "Everyone else is busy, and I'm booored!" She complained while tugging at his shirt.

The boy rolls his eye at the young girl's antics, "Fine if I play with you, will you leave me alone?" Y/n nodded furiously.

With a tired sigh, Tim leaves his desk, picking up the game chip. "Thirty minutes, max, you got it?"

Y/n laughs happily, running out of his room and down to the lounging room. Tim smiles, a familiar warmth filling his chest.

Tim opens his eyes slowly, the early morning sky peeking through the curtains to greet him. A dream, a memory, a mix of both. Tim groans, what a mess this whole situation was.

Slowly, he lifted himself out of bed, checking his phone to see what time it was.

5:34 am

He let out another tired groan, it was too early to be awake. Sadly, he knew falling back asleep would be impossible. Slipping on some sweatpants, Tim makes his way to the kitchen to brew some coffee.

He makes it to the kitchen, tiredly grabbing the coffee grounds from the cabinet, and making his way to the coffee machine.

Tim watches the coffee slide into his mug, the smell of coffee filling the kitchen, before walking back to the cabinet to get some sugar. While he would usually drink his coffee black, he was in the mood for something sweet.

"Can I borrow the sugar when you're done?" A groggy voice asked him.

Tim jumps, swiftly turning around to see who spooked him. Y/n stands behind him with a bowl of Cheerios.

"..."

Tim sighed, dragging a hand down his face. "Why are you up this early?" Y/n shrugged, "Couldn't sleep." She answered.

Frowning, Tim walks back over to the coffee machine, which has stopped brewing. Y/n watches, frowning at his lack of answering, before following.

He puts two spoons of sugar into his coffee, stirring it thoroughly, then passes Y/n the sugar. She mumbles a quiet thank you, putting a little bit of sugar in her cheerios.

Tim and Y/n sit with each other, quietly enjoying the silent Manor.

──●◎●──

It was early afternoon, and Y/n was sneaking some of the cookies Alfred had made. They were heavenly, light, and sweet, the chocolate rich and smooth.

Jason enters the kitchen, clearing his voice, and catching Y/n's attention. "Looks like I've caught a little thief," Jason smirked, Y/n giving him a wide-eyed look, knowing she was caught red-handed.

"...You can have Dick's portion if you don't tell."

Jason laughs, before nodding, "OK, deal." He walks over to Y/n, taking a cookie and biting into it. "Mmm~ They are as good as I remember." Jason chuckles, "Plus, Dick has enough sweets, I'm sure he won't mind me taking some of his."

"Oh? Really now?"

Y/n and Jason look at each other before turning around slowly facing the eldest Wayne. He had a smile on his face that didn't reach his eyes.

"You think I've had enough sweets? Can't help but feel like you're implying something, Jaybird."

Y/n makes a break for it, leaving Jason behind. "Wha- You Traitor!!" Jason yells as Y/n makes her getaway.

While running Y/n bumps into Damien, causing both of them to stumble. "What the- why are you running around the mansion? You're supposed to be with Alfred." Damion glares at Y/n, annoyed. She bashfully rubs the back of her head, "I was running from Dick," she admits, "speaking of which, do you know any hiding spots? I think I can hear him coming, he must have finished off Jason." Rest in peace Jason... again.

Damion deadpanned, "Seriously?" He blandly questioned. He grumbled when Y/n nodded, a pleading look in her eyes. Dick has been annoying him recently. So, Damien supposes helping Y/n would be a good way to get back at him. Nodding, he helps Y/n up. "I've got some places for you to hide. Follow me."

──●◎●──

Y/n and Damion hid in a small crawl space behind one of the larger paintings for around twenty minutes.

Sadly, Dick is very set on finding Y/n, so twenty minutes was not enough hiding time.

"I got you Y/n!" Dick picked Y/n up, a squeal escaping her as he spins her around. "I'm going to get you back for eating my cookies," he said playfully while carrying Y/n to the living room. Throwing her onto the couch, then trapping her in a hug.

"Let me go." She whined, trying to get out of his grip. Dick smiles, laughing at Y/n's misery, "No, you ate my cookies. Now you must pay the ultimate price." He cackled evilly.

Y/n frowned, "And here I thought you were a hero who believed in mercy." She said, giving him a betrayed and disappointed look, and making him laugh.

Bruce enters the room with a serious look on his face, instantly killing the mood. He looks at Y/n and Dick, before talking.

"Y/n, Clark is here to visit you."

@rosecentury

#batfam #platonic yandere #yandere batman #yandere bruce wayne #yandere clark kent #yandere damian wayne #yandere dc #yandere dick grayson #yandere jason todd #yandere justice league #yandere robin #yandere red robin #yandere red hood #yandere nightwing #yandere superman #yandere superfam

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breadandblankets · 2 days

Text

CivE Duke - inspired by this post by mysterycitrus

This was one of Duke's favorite parts of his job. Not that one, the other one, the civilian one.

"Duke Thomas," his mother had told him when he got his engineer's seal crimp in the mail. "Is every bit Gotham's hero as much as The Signal is."

Every other week it seemed he donned his steel toed boots, hard hat, and high vis and went to look at the bones of some old building.

Most days were sat at his desk in a nice comfy high rise in Old Gotham, eyes glued to the searing white of some ancient as-builts on his screen. (As-builts, especially in Gotham, were more of a suggestion than a rule, his team had started calling them "Maybe-builts" and it fit more than he'd like.)

Gotham, in Duke's experience, had good bones for the most part. Even caked in years and years of grime, asbestos, and mob snitches, there was beauty in pulling away the facade to look at all that union-made bessemer steel.

Today on the chopping block was a Park Row mid-rise, slated for either refurbishment or demolition, all depending on Duke's word.

It wasn't anything even close to the rush of saving a life, but there is a light feeling he gets, knowing that some old structure can be reused.

Duke knows its a little silly to get sad when something old is beyond saving, especially when he signs over it's death.

"It's like a forest fire," his dad had told him once, after he watched his first controlled demolition. "You gotta burn out the dead things so new things can live."

This building though, Duke has a good feeling about it. Or at least that is what he tells his trainee, Ines, while he scans the building with his X-ray vision.

Ines Borja is a bright kid fresh from the hell that is Gotham U's CivE program, she's not a Gotham native but while living here she fell in love with the city (and it's cost of living). According to her, New York isn't much worse, Gotham's just weirder.

Weird is, unfortunately, Duke's bread and butter. They pick through delapidated rooms with crumbling sheet rock with mostly intact concrete encased steel. He spots some areas with crumbling concrete that he points out to Ines, who dutifully takes photos.

"Those are areas we'll need to test for water penetration and corrosion," Duke explains.

He's explaining other testing that will need to be done, radar of the foundation, metallurgical testing, etc, when they hear yelling outside.

For a moment Duke ignores it, but the hard walls carry echos of what's being said.

"I'm not going to ask again, your money asshole!"

The flat thud of a notebook hitting the ground is the last thing Ines hears as Duke takes off like a shot.

His site walk boots are heavy, much much heavier than his Signal boots. They're for protection and insulation from the hard concrete he has to stand on all day. They're so not meant for running, he thinks as he barrels out of the survey site and around the corner.

There are two figures in the alley when he stomps into the scene, slipping his hard hat off. The mugger is on the younger end, thats about all the analysis Duke gets to do before he sees the gun.

It's nice sometimes, Duke things, as he spins like a discus thrower, to fight normal city problems. He's liable to get bogged down in big world ending shit that sometimes its just nice to save a mugging victim.

The reinforced plastic leaves his fingers in a rush, aimed straight and true, slamming into the gun in the mugger's right hand.

Both the mugger and muggee have a moment of shock before Duke slams into the first guy like a freight train, knocking him out of the confrontation and onto the ground.

"I'd advise you sit down for a moment," Duke says to the would-be mugger, flatly. He turns to the shaking older man.

"Sir are you alright," he asks politely.

"I am now," the older man, well dressed but not wealthy in the way that Duke knows people in the town are. "Thank you very much."

"Alright then," Duke says calmly, he fishes in his pockets for one of the many business cards he always keeps on himself. It's for a therapist, and a good one in Duke's opinion. A profession in too short supply in Gotham. "Might be best if you get on with your day, I'll stay with this young gentleman here."

The older man is clearly a true Gothamite, because he doesn't protest, just moves along. Probably not even the most traumatic thing the guy's witnessed in the last year.

Duke turns to young man on the ground, who hasn't moved a muscle from where Duke put him just a second ago.

"Hey man I don't want any trouble."

Ines chooses this moment to catch up, her skin flushed and she's panting, She is still carrying all the gear with her, which no doubt slowed her down.

"Bit late for that yeah?" Duke questions with a raise of his brow, he motions with his chin in the direction of the gun. It's a couple yards off, resting comfortably with his hard hat. "What's your name?"

"David sir, i-its not even loaded, just to scare people a bit," all comes out in a rush, the young man, David, is clearly terrified.

"Hey, I know, it's hard out here," Duke placates. Out of one of the seemingly endless pockets on his work pants he pulls out his wallet. Out comes two more cards and a couple of bills. "Listen, here's fifty bucks, go get yourself something to eat."

"I-"

"Hold on, I'm not done," Duke says. "This is the information for Leslie's clinic down the street, she can help you with a lot, or just point you towards someone who can. If you need anything else this is the Wayne Ent outreach office, the director there is Elaine, tell her Duke sent you."

"You- you're not going to call the cops?" David asks, bewildered.

"And have them do what? You're robbing a man for twenty dollars with a gun that has no bullets," Duke observes. "You clearly don't need jail time you need a hand."

As if to illustrate his point, Duke reaches out to help him up. David hesitates for a split second, before accepting the offered hand.

"Seriously thought," Duke continues. "Leslie and m-Elaine helped me though some of the worst times of my life okay, reach out to them, they can help, you're not in this alone."

David looked like he was about to cry.

"Thank you man, just thank you."

"Just looking out for my fellow man," Duke replies. "Now get going I got work."

David laughs a little at that before shuffling awkwardly by Ines. Duke turns to look at her.

"You are like, officially the coolest boss I've ever had," she tells him seriously.

"No way, didn't your last boss bow hunt wild boar?"

"Yeah but that's jack all compared to my Apparently incredibly based current boss."

Duke chuckles: "You don't even know about my teenage years."

"What, you were doing child anti-cop anarco-communist action?"

"More or less."

"Based as fuck," she says, amazed.

Duke just shrugs.

"My mom always said: never accept the world as it is, make it better. And so I do, so i will."

Duke turns a little, to look back at the mid-rise that will have new life breathed into it sooner or later.

So I will.

#duke thomas #batfam #duke practiced extensively to get that hardhat throw down btw #hes a bat he's prepared for anything #bread talk #my fic #i wrote this on the clock #so if its bad at least i got paid #ask me about construction engineering lmao

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crazyyluvr · 10 hours

Note

hi! Can I please please ask a kaz brekker x reader? I was thinking of reader being a blind heartrender. I headcanon blind grishas to have their abilities amplified, and a blind heartrender would be basically daredevil XD.

Thank you in advance for reading the request, I really loved six of crows!

I am the QUEEN of Hearts, Don't Tell Me Otherwise

pairing: kaz brekker x reader

summary: Having a blind Heartrender has its perks. For Kaz Brekker, having a blind Heartrender that can hear his heartbeat change around her has its disadvantages.

genre: fluff

wc: 3.4k

content: reader is blind, fem!reader with she/her prns, violence (some torture), reading is a bit clumsy, kaz's heart speeds up a lot

note: OMG I LOVE THIS IDEA <33 tysm for requesting anon. i hope this layout is fine, i just wanted to try something different. sorry if it's kinda bad, i wrote it in one sitting LMFAO. either way, hope u enjoy!!

oneshot under the cut :: not edited

Perks

1. You didn't need your eyes to see.

It was very useful in heists to have someone who knew that someone was walking towards them without having to actually see them. Being blind somehow enhanced your hearing and your touch on your Grisha powers, and that was why you could do a lot of things easier than other Heartrenders — even Nina — had difficulty with.

It was one of the main reasons why you stuck with Kaz when he had to crack a safe; you were basically his lookout.

"Someone's around three minutes out," you whispered to him, standing a few paces behind Kaz who was hunched over a safe. Your head was tilted to the side, your ears were focusing on a melody only you could hear.

"Scratch that, two minutes out, they're moving faster," you reported. "Are you almost done?"

Kaz focus on the complicated lock didn't break as he replied, "I need more time."

"Okay," You moved forward, hands in front of your thighs to guide you around the desk in front of you.

"Thirty seconds," You said, the heart beat of the approaching guard getting louder and louder. "How down?"

"Shut-eye," He replied.

You put your hand up in front of you.

The doorknob jingled a little, and you activated your power, drastically slowing the heartbeat of the guard before he could open the door. You heard a thud on the floor, and you knew that he was unconscious.

A few seconds later, the safe clicked open. Kaz reached in and grabbed the money that you came for. "You could have at least tried to soften his fall or something. Someone could have heard that."

You shook your head. "There's no one close enough to hear." You turned to Kaz's voice, a small smirk on your lips. "Besides, It's just the two of us. I didn't want to leave you alone, 'cause you'd miss me too much."

Kaz rolled his eyes. "Don't feed your ego. It's not a fitting sight for you."

You laughed a little. "Like you don't do that everyday."

You turned to get out of the room, opening to door to free yourself. The door opened halfway before it suddenly stopped, like it was blocked by something. You didn't expect the obstruction, which caused you to trip over something and fall to the floor with a loud bang on the wooden ground.

Kaz stood over you in concern. You had tripped over the unconscious guard's body. "I thought his body was facing the other way," you groaned.

Kaz didn't have time to reply before both of you heard shouts in the corridors. Looks like they could hear that. He used his cane to get hold of the back of your jacket and pulled you to your feet.

"Time to go!" You dusted yourself off, leaping over the body and speedwalking away from the thundering of more guards, Kaz right at your heels.

2. You could always tell if someone was distressed.

You didn't live in the Slat, since you preferred to have your own place away from the gang, but that didn't make you any less close to Jesper, Inej, Wylan, Nina, and Matthias. You visited the Crows often, whether it be in the Slat or Crow Club.

You knew how important getting together was to them, whether or not they'd admit it. In a life full of mistrust and traitors, it was hard to find a crowd that you could actually trust. Of course, your friends had their own secrets that they kept to themselves, like how you had your own, but being with them without the pressure of telling them those stories was precious.

You were able to loosen up around them, laugh with them without the fear of judgement or that these moments of vulnerability would be used against you.

Instead, you relied on them to just forget your current struggles as you talked about stupid things over drinks.

You also used it as a chance to check up on them. You couldn't see them but you could hear them. Being blind made you sharpen your hearing more, both with our without the use of your Grisha abilities.

You could tell when there was something bothering your friends, which is why you knew there was something bothering Wylan when you and your friends decided to share some drinks in the Crow Club.

Jesper was mid-argument with Nina about what came first: the chicken or the egg. Inej and Matthias were just listening to them, occasionally adding their own thoughts or laughing when either of the debaters made a particularly stupid point.

You noticed that Wylan wasn't talking as much as he normally did. You felt him fidgeting beside you, his arm or his leg twitching more than it usually does.

If those weren't enough of a sign that there was something weighing on his mind, then there was his heart that also proved that point. It never seemed to settle. His shallow breaths that occasionally came in huffs of frustration agitated the muscle in the middle of his chest, making it beat faster than normal.

"Hey," you whispered to him, breaking him out of his troubled trance. He looked at you curiously. "Are you okay?" You asked, your brows unknowingly furrowing in concern.

"I'm fine," Wylan said, smiling reassuringly.

You rolled your white eyes. "You do know that fake smiles won't work on the blind, right?"

Wylan's smile dropped, shocked. "How did you know I was smiling?"

"I didn't," you shrugged, taking a sip from your glass. "I just guessed. But seriously, is there something wrong? You seem more distressed."

Wylan sighed, leaning back in his chair. He looked around at your table, and when he confirmed that none of your companions were paying the two of you any mind, he answered truthfully. "My dad's still sending me letters."

"I hope you've burned those letters," you huffed, feeling your blood boil quietly at the mention of Wylan's horrible sperm donor. "He's just trying to provoke you, make you feel worthless."

"But —"

"Don't even try to tell me that you are worthless, Wylan," you said harshly, turning your head towards him despite your blank eyes not meeting his gaze, instead staring through him. That did nothing to lessen the defiance in them. "You may not be able to read, but who cares? I can read for you, Jesper can read for you. That's kind of the point of having friends, we'll make up for whatever you lack."

Wylan thought about it for a moment. You could tell that your words worked on him from the way his breaths eased and his heart steadied.

"Yeah..." A smile slowly spread on Wylan's lips, a genuine one this time. "Thanks."

"Anything to stop your very loud heartbeat from distracting me," you joked, making Wylan laugh.

Kaz watched the interaction from the bar, his eyes unreadable as he turned back to his drink, finishing it before heading upstairs without another word.

3. Lies couldn't hide from you.

Kaz swung his cane, the crow handle finding its mark on the man's knee, hitting it with a sickening crack. He cried out in pain, keeling over but not going that far due to his hands chained to the ceiling.

The man was a spy placed in the Dregs. You found him when you were having a private heist meeting and heard his heart lingering out the front door.

So now, you were both trying to find out who hired the traitor — well, more like Kaz was beating him up for answers while you served as his lie detector.

"Who are you working for?" Kaz said, repeating the question he's been drilling into the man for the past hour. Despite the way he was pathetically sobbing, he still refused to give up the name of his boss.

Not out of loyalty, but out of fear, you thought, taking note of the way his heart beat at a pace only set by fear. Fear not only for what Kaz could and would do to him, but also fear for what would happen if he gave Kaz what he wanted.

"Olek!" He cried. Kaz, blood splattered on his black vest that was exposed from his decision to abandon his coat for mobility, turned to you expectantly.

You shook your head. "Lie."

Kaz swung his cane again without hesitation, this time bringing hitting the man's chest. The man's scream in pain was worse than before.

Kaz probably broke a few ribs, you thought offhandedly, only flinching in disgust when you felt some of the blood from the man's mouth hit your cheek. You wiped it off immediately.

"I was telling the truth!" He yelled, sobbing. "I was telling the truth!"

Kaz used his cane to tilt the man's head up by the chin, forcing him to meet Dirtyhands' cruel stare. He would receive no mercy, as there was nothing that could be given in the first place.

"My Heartrender said you lied, so you lied," Kaz said through gritted teeth. "If she keeps saying otherwise, you will die for this boss of yours. Are you willing to give your life for someone who could care less about it?"

When he received no response other than cries, Kaz prepared to hit with his cane again.

"Karlos!" The man screamed, pausing Kaz mid-swing. "Karlos Drulak!"

Kaz didn't turn to you before you spoke, your smile heard in your voice behind him. "There's our answer."

Your satisfaction was mutual, as Kaz's shoulders let go of some of its tension as he straightened — well, as much as he could without relying on his bloodied cane. "Finally." He readjusted his gloves and turned around, limping away, only stopping to speak to you.

"Send him to the grave."

Your smile widened into a grin, your teeth flashing in the lamplight. "With pleasure."

Kaz left you to your business, the screams of terror fading into the night as he went to the Slat to formulate a plan with the new information he'd just gained.

—————

Disadvantages

1. You didn't need your eyes to see him.

You always knew it was him.

Whether he would enter the Crow Club to find you drinking with Jesper, or he'd knock on your apartment door with an important matter in mind, or even just passing by him in a busy market despite the noise and the multiple heartbeats.

You always noticed him.

It bugged Kaz. He knew that no matter what other disguises he may put on, no matter whether or not he had his cane to tap on the tiles of the road or the wood of the Crow Club or the Slat, you always knew it was him.

He stood in front of your door, staring at the number in front of him. The plan for your heist the next day had undergone many changes, and he had to inform you of them.

He took a deep breath, raising his knuckles to knock.

"Come in, Kaz," you called, voice muffled from inside the apartment. It always happened when he popped by; he'd inhale, prepare to knock on the door, only for you to interrupt him and just tell him to go in.

He let out a quiet huff almost fondly. Of course she knew.

He opened the door, letting himself in. "You knew it was me." It was a question said as a statement. That's just how Kaz normally speaks when he's curious but wants to hide the fact that he's curious, but you could always tell the difference.

"Of course," you said, not looking up from your construction of your beverage. Your hands had eyes of their own, moving to the familiar spots of your condiments. "Your heartbeat."

"Everyone has their own, do they not?"

You laughed, meeting his jab with softness. "Yeah, they do, but none of them quite beat like yours."

Kaz's heart sped up a little at the words, and he knew that he couldn't hide it from you. Your knowing smirk just made him feel warmer.

2. You could always tell when he was distressed.

Kaz wasn' the only one who had access to unannounced appearances.

You made it a habit of appearing randomly in his office just like him visiting you in your apartment, but unlike Kaz, you sometimes came there just for his company, to just sit down on the spare chair in front of his desk and read or draw or whatever your mood makes you do. Neither of you say a word, but you could tell that he was also content with the arrangement.

You found Kaz seeming more distraught than usual, the normally steady beat of his heart thundering like a skittish horse that was cornered by unwanted oppressors.

Kaz didn't look up from his the papers on his desk when your signature knock reverberated in his space, or when you swung the door open to let yourself in.

"Is there something wrong?" You asked casually, approaching your seat and sinking into it. There was something oddly comforting about the hard wood resting on your back, like an anchor in an unknown sea.

Kaz tilted his head to look at you, eyebrows raised. "What makes you think there's something wrong."

You playfully waved your hand in Kaz's general area. "You gave off a distraught aura the moment I stepped into the room."

Kaz scoffed, making you smile. That was the closest thing you'd get to a laugh from him.

You let your playful persona slip as your face blanked, your white eyes staring at him seriously. "Kruge for your thoughts?"

Kaz studied you for a moment, before leaning back in his chair with a sigh. He ran a gloved hand through his slightly messy hair in frustration. "Per Haskell gave away one of two of our storage units for twelve thousand kruge."

Your eyebrows shot up in shock. "Just twelve thousand?"

"Exactly," Kaz huffed. "I'm trying to get it back, but the buyer's refusing. They haven't even moved in yet, and I already told them I can return the money they gave."

Kaz intertwined his fingers with each other, thinking deeply.

His dilemma also put your brain to work, shuffling through the possible solutions.

"Who bought it?" You asked.

"Karlos Drulak," Kaz said. The name sounded familiar to you.

You snapped your fingers, pointing to Kaz's left side. Kaz lifted his cane and moved your finger to point directly at him like you intended.

"Ah thank you," you said before continued. "He's the one who hired the other dude! The one who infiltrated the Dregs."

Kaz perked up slightly at the memory. How could that have slipped from his mind?

"Do you think that him buying our unit can be related to his unknown issue with us?" You wondered aloud.

"That's certainly a possibility," Kaz hummed.

You grinned. "See? Your heartbeat has already slowed."

You stood up, hefting the book you never opened in the office with you. "Well, I'll leave you to your thoughts. I'm sure you can figure it out on your own."

"Are you leaving me because you don't want to brainstorm?" Kaz rose an eyebrow in slight amusement as you made a beeline for the door, your feet having already memorized the layout of the room.

Your chin hooked on your shoulder to give him a view of your grin. "Too much of something is bad. Even thinking."

You gave him a lazy salute as you left, but as you closed the door, you could have sworn you heard a laugh escape the man's lips over the faster beating of his heart.

3. He couldn't lie to you.

Kaz's hearing was muffled from the sound of ringing in his ears. He forced his eyes to open, blinking hard to try and shake away whatever spell unconsciousness casted upon him.

He saw you crouching over him, eyes staring down at his chest, where you had a hand over. You must've revived him.

He felt panic thrum in his veins, his hands moving before he could stop them from slapping your palm away from him.

"Kaz!" Your voice was oddly muffled as he tried to stand up. His bad leg didn't cooperate with his wishes as he fell back down on the rough ground.

He looked back at you, and now you kept a respectable distance from him, your form framed by flame with worry creasing your forehead and pulling the corners of your lips downwards. He barely heard your next words: "Breathe!"

He forced his chest to comply, inhaling the smoky air and exhaling with a cough.

Two more of those, and you held out his cane for him to grab, slightly askew. He hesitated, but grabbed on it, letting you pull him to his feet using his cane. He was swaying on his feet, and you could tell from his slowing heartbeat that he was close to fainting from smoke inhalation.

"I know you don't like being touched, but you can't walk out of here without me helping!" You shouted. You felt pity pinch your chest at Kaz's expression, sprinkled with a panic you never saw from him.

You didn't have time to wait for him to regain his bearings as part of the flaming roof collapsed mere feet away from you two. You flinched at the bang, but you didn't hesitate to sling his arm around your shoulders and drag him out of the room, snatching Kaz's cane and using it as your guide to the entrance right before you felt the flames lick the back of your coat.

Kaz furiously patted the small patch of flame on your back to extinguish it. He felt the water on his waist slowly rising, but he tried to push it down.

It was just you, his Heartrender. He'll be fine.

"C'mon, Jes is waiting for us at the rendezvous," you said, your voice strained from carrying most of Kaz's weight. He tried to walk on his own, to lessen your burden, but his body was too weak for it.

You left the building, Karlos Drulak's brand-new bar. Hey, at least the color of the fumes complimented the brown...?

Jesper caught you two and rushed forward to help, but you stopped him with a single shake of your head. It took a lot for Kaz to just let you keep him upright, what more if Jesper added to that?

You both hobbled as one to a safe distance before Kaz collapsed inside an alleyway. He took deep breaths, trying to fight the black roses of anxiety that bloomed in the corners of his vision.

"Kaz, look at me," you spoke, feeling his heart rate spike, but you weren't sure what you could do to help. "Kaz, what can I do?"

"Talk," He strained. "Distract me."

"Uh — okay, okay," your brain scrambled for some story to pull up, so it decided to bring you a memory from your childhood. "There was a time where I revived a dog of my old neighbor when I was seven years old," you said, your eyes trained on his chest like you can see his heart. "My parents were off to work, so they left me with the neighbor, and his heart just stopped beating. The neighbors didn't know what to do, but I just put a hand on him and willed his heart to beat again. He lived for seven more years after that before he peacefully passed."

"You should have let that dog die," Kaz gasped, but his breaths were slowly evening out. "I hate animals."

You smiled lightly. "Liar."

"How can you tell I'm lying? My heartbeat's already all over the place," Kaz huffed.

"I don't need my power to tell that you're lying," you said, shaking your head fondly. "I know you Kaz. In the years that we've worked together, I got to know you. I know you feed your scraps of food to the strays behind the Crow Club, which is why they keep coming back for more."

"Didn't know anyone noticed," Kaz said, his breaths more symmetrical as his vision cleared.

You laughed. "You really expected me to not notice?" Kaz saw how you hesitated, how your smile faltered before you continued with seriousness lacing your voice. "I always notice when it comes to you."

Kaz sighed, gently grabbing the cane from you and hauling himself to his feet. "Let's go to the Slat. Better make sure that the others know we're alive."

"Wow, you want to tell them you're alive so they don't get worried?" You cooed, walking a few feet beside him and syncing your steps with him. "Soft is a good look on you."

"Shut up, Heartrender," He grumbled, but a small smile broke through his face.

"Your Heartrender," you sang, skipping slightly knowing that he can't deny you from the sudden speed of his heart.

He shook his head, the smile still not leaving his face as you both walked.

His Heartrender indeed.

#kaz brekker #kaz brekker x reader #six of crows #six of crows x reader #shadow and bone #shadow and bone x reader #crooked kingdom #crooked kingdom x reader

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feralghoulie · 17 hours

Text

Note: This is a day late, but shh. This one was. Interesting to say the least. Hope you guys it enjoy.. 🤭

MINORS DNI 18+ CONTENT. SEMI NON-CON/SEMI FORCE WARNING.

Promt: Somnophilia (Day 3)

Summary: Cooper isn't known for his patience. He takes what he wants, whatever the situation. His thoughts take over his actions while Lucy is sound asleep.

Cooper Howard (The Ghoul) X Lucy Maclean

☆

It Can't Wait.

"Oh and in the vault, i was a teacher! I think I worked really well kids. I've always wanted a kid. Did you have a ki-" Lucy was abruptly cut off.

"Listen honey. I'd love to listen aboutcha life in the vault. But don't you think it's a little late to keep talkin. We've got quite the long day ahead of us." He said leaning his back against the metal wall. Eyeing the dying fire in front of them.

She frowned. "I mean. I guess so." She said a little sad. Entertaining herself from talking his ear off. She wanted him to open up but he was more of a listener. Sitting back and nodding his head as she spoke. Eyeing her body, hardly hearing a word she said.

He groaned as he stretched out his arms. "C'mon Luce." He said standing up from the milk crate he had pulled up. Grabbing some old pillows off the ground and beating the dust off. Walking over to the beaten bed across the floor. He tossed the pillows onto it, and searched for something that could do as a blanket.

She took the hint, crawling into bed like a sad child. She unzipped her vault soon, and wiggled her way out of it. The Ghoul pausing a moment to try and sneak a look. He fucking loved when she would walk around in just her tank top and panties.

Throwing obvious glances as he pretended to keep looking for a blanket. He wanted to rip her clothes off. Tear scars into her skin. Mark her entire body. Fuck sleep. His cock was throbbing. All she had done was get comfortable for bed. He needed to contain his thoughts.

He grumbled to himself. Turning to fix his tent. Turning back around, giving up on his short hunt for blankets. Lucy was digging through her bag. On her knees on the bed, her ass looking perfect through her snug underwear.

He assumed she had no idea how much he wanted her. God. He wanted to fuck her brains out. So much innocence and love behind her eyes. Not yet tormented by the wasteland. He needed to be the first.

She pulled out a can of water and cracked it open. Taking a sip and setting it aside. Attempting to get comfortable on the bed. Springs threatening to stab your skin if you moved the wrong way.

"Are you going to be keeping watch?" She asked untieing her hair. Running her hands through her hair.

"Yeah." He responded. Poking the fire with a nearby board. "Don't worry." He said smiling. Reassuring she was safe to sleep.

She nodded her head graciously and flipped from her side to her back. Adjusting her body until she was comfortable.

"Cold?" He whispered. Dragging his crate closer to the bed, and sitting down.

"Yeah.." She huffed. Her eyes closed.

Cooper removed his overcoat and draped it over her. She pulled it close to her face. Smelling it in secrecy. Smiling as a thank you.

"Goodnight... Ghoul." She said softly. Drifting off to sleep as she thought about what his real name may be. What monsters would attack them tomorrow.

Although Cooper had a whole different set of thoughts. He stared at her. Intensely. Her chest poking out just a little bit from the jacket. Her legs almost fully covered.

He wanted to take her. He wanted to rip her skin apart. He wanted her to scream. Not in pain, but in full body pleasure. His fingers would fit so perfectly into her empty pussy.

His textured cock would leave a mark in her mind. No one after him would ever feel as good. He thought of every position. Her breasts bouncing in his face. Bending her over, slapping her ass until it was a swollen red.

He grabbed at his cock through his pants. Holding it tightly. Rubbing his thumb over it. She would puke on the size of his cock. He knew she wouldn't be able to handle it, and that made it all the better.

She must taste sweet. She would be soaked from him barely touching her. She's a delicate and soft creature. He couldn't handle the thoughts much longer.

His cock straining his striped pants. "Fuck.." He said under his breath. Staring at her figure on the bed. Already softly snoring. He needed to bury his cock in her..

He started to undo his belt. Moving with haste. She was asleep, she wouldn't see him get his pants off. No harm, no foul. Once his belt was undone, he slid his pants down. Not having underwear, he got those stolen ages ago.

His pants now pooled at his ankles, he was tugging at his cock. Leaning back against the metal wall. Touching himself wasn't going to be enough. He ached so bad it was almost painful.

Against his better judgment, he quietly stood up. Hovering over her body, standing at the foot of the mattress. He ran through thoughts in his head. Debating if this was wrong. He didn't care.

He squat down. Getting onto his stomach and inching his way forward. Holding himself in a way his cock wouldn't come in contact with the rough floor or bed. He carefully moved his jacket upwards. Off of her legs, scrunched onto her stomach.

He eyed her panties. He adjusted his body, freeing both his hands. He hooked his fingers onto the wasteland. Very carefully pulling them down. Setting them inside.

Her pussy was perfect in every single way. Unshaved, but a little wet. An absolutely inviting smell as he drooled. He got closer, pressing his stomach onto the bed. Drawing his tongue out to taste her.

Sweat mixed with her natural taste made his cock twitch. Holding every single muscle back not to shove his cock into her. He shoved his face into her crotch. Placing his hands on either side of her body.

He drew his tongue out again. Separating her walls with just his tongue. Licking stripes as he indulged in her taste. He was surprised she hadn't started to stir. Afraid she may wake up and jump out of fear.

He sucked on her clit, and balanced with one hand, using the opposite hand to grip onto his cock. Slow sensual strokes as he enjoyed his meal.

Lucy was slowly waking up, feeling an extremely warm sensation between her legs. A heavy weight on her sides. Half conscious she questioned what was happening. Her body feeling deep sparks of pleasure. She opened her eyes slowly, opening wide at what she saw.

The ghoul was ravishing her. His mouth latched onto her clit. She closed her eyes tight and opened them again. Seeing his closed eyes, his hand furiously working at his cock.

She was confused, but couldn't deny she almost happy to wake up to the experience.

Closing her eyes and trying not to move. A little harder now that she knew what was happening.

Wanting to squirm and moan. Unsure if she should let him know she had awoken, she relaxed into the bed.

He pulled back from her pussy, and ran his finger against her wet slit. Sucking on his middle finger and eyeing it. Pressing it and wiggling into her hole carefully.

She couldn't hold back, she jolted and he looked up. She opened her eyes, locking eyes with him. He didn't say anything yet. Just sharing a mutual look of desire.

"Wh.. what are you doing." She said softly. Unsure if she was supposed to be enjoying this.

He kept pressing his finger in. Staring at her as he did so, waiting for it to be completely in.

"Well. I wasn't expectin you to wake up, but i suppose that was a little stupid to assume." He said clicking his tongue.

"I'll stop if you want me to." He said pulling his finger out. Wiping it on her inner thigh..

She was quiet for a moment. Gasping at the absence of his finger. "Um- I don't- you can.. you can keep going." She said accepting she did enjoy this. Being woken up like this was something incredibly new. Not new like seeing monsters, or leaving the vault. But knew as in her body craved it.

He nodded his head and pressed two fingers back into her. Curling them and working them inside. She furrowed her brows and covered her mouth.

He readjusted his body. Now hovering over hers, his face close to hers.

"Move your hand. I want to hear you. I need to hear how much you fuckin like it Lucy." He said in a stern tone. Pressing his fingers deeply inside, setting a faster pace as he looked at her.

She removed her hand, letting out small breaths.

"That's it.." He hummed proud. "You're really fucking tight. I don't know if I'll fit." He said pulling his fingers out.

"Now I know this is probably your first time. Or maybe it's not. I don't know what you vault freaks did down there, but I ain't going easy on ya" He said, moving onto his knees.

Pushing his jacket off of her, so he could look at her pudgey breasts, sitting unevenly in her tank top.

He spread her legs open, and pulled them upwards. Pulling her body forward. Fitting his body between her legs, he lined his cock up with her soaked hole. Leaning in close to her face.

He pressed his face into her neck, and inched his cock inside. Each inch breaking her tight unused pussy. She held onto his back tightly. Using it as a means to ground herself.

"It hurts! Is it supposed to her this bad?" She exclaimed wincing.

"Mmm. It hurts because it's your first time honey. I've also got a huge cock. It ain't gonna fit perfectly." He said in his deep southern draw. Licking and biting at her neck.

Slowly thrusting into her. Deep inside of her every move. She squirmed, unable to handle so much at once.

He didn't care, he kept his pace. Picking up as he growled in her ear. Biting down into her neck, licking over the marks each time. Savoring every single moan that escaped from her lips.

"You like how big my fuckin cock is don't you. You're squeezing me real fuckin tight sweetheart." He said moving faster. Her legs wrapping around his back.

Hitting her so incredibly deep, it felt like he would pass out from the insane pleasure.

"Good fuckin god girl... you're really showin me how much you want it. I know you've fantasized about me. I'm sure you've touched your pretty pussy thinkin about me." He said licking the shell of her ear. Grunting as he felt himself getting closer.

"Ghoul-" She exclaimed.

"Cooper." He whispered. "My name is Cooper." He said pulling his cock all the way out and driving it back in.

"Scream my fuckin name. Tell me how fuckin good my cock feels." He said.His thrusts becoming more sloppy.

Lucy was feeling herself slipping, knowing she was so close to cumming. "C-Cooper! Your.." She paused. Unsure if she would want to use that weird word.

"Your penis feels so good!"

He giggled in her neck. Unable to take her seriously. Never hearing her curse, even while being relentlessly pounded.

Cooper bit her shoulder as he started to empty his load. Growling deeply as he claimed her body as his. The first to destroy her innocent body.

Lucy practically screaming as she felt her climax crashing. It was nothing like she had ever experienced. A undescribeable feeling in her stomach and her core. Gasping for air as she finished.

Slowing his thrusts he removed his mouth from her shoulder. Catching his breath, his cock buried inside of her.

Realizing he had given Lucy his name, he cursed at himself. She hadn't thought on it much, but things were starting to click.

Was she just fucked by Cooper Howard? The infamous cowboy movie star? Her eyes widening as she studied his outfit. Trying to see past the vest he wore. He scrambled to get his pants on, but she watched in awe. Laying on the bed almost fully naked.

"Cooper... Howard?" She said. A questioning tone. "Did I just have a sex sirh a movie star?" She said feeling proud of herself

"Shit." He thought. She had ranted for almost an hour earlier how much she loved the movies he starred in. A novelty cowboy charm.

"Yeah honey.. that's me." He sighed, though smiling when her eyes lit up.

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zukkaoru · 24 hours

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waltzes into your inbox hiiii ^^

platonic kiss with kenji + anyone

spiderman kiss with kunichuu (is this predictable of me. sorry)

bloody kiss with tachigin!!

kunichuu spiderman kiss.. falls over and blacks out (other two are under the cut lol)

Chuuya is sitting on the ceiling when Kunikida returns to his dorm. Their knees are hugged tightly to their chest, and they’re staring straight ahead, gaze unfocused. Their coat looks more like a blanket with how it’s wrapped around them at the moment.

Kunikida frowns to himself. This isn’t the first time Chuuya has shown up unannounced—if Kunikida truly didn’t want them in here without a warning, he wouldn’t have given them a key. But it is the first time he can recall them stopping by just to mope.

“Chuuya?” He calls out. “Are you alright?”

They blink slowly, then mumble something Kunikida can’t make out.

Kunikida purses his lips. He toes off his shoes, then crosses over to where they’re seated. The dorm ceilings aren’t very high, and Kunikida is rather tall himself, so he’s about at eye-level with Chuuya. When he reaches towards them, they flinch.

His hand freezes in midair.

Chuuya lets out a strained sigh. “Sorry. I’m used to Dazai being the only one who sees me when I’m like this.”

“Ah.” Kunikida nods understandingly. He moves again, and Chuuya leans into the touch. It’s slightly awkward, cradling their cheek while they’re upside down, but Kunikida makes it work. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Chuuya shakes their head. “Not right now.”

“Is there anything I can do to help?”

Chuuya shrugs.

“Let me know if you think of something, okay?”

Chuuya nods. Then, they lean forward, nearly imperceptibly. But Kunikida catches it, and he understands what they want. He closes the distance between them, slotting his lips against Chuuya’s. It’s a soft, chaste, kiss, but when Kunikida pulls back, Chuuya is smiling, so he figures it did its job.

“Will you sit up here with me for a bit?” Chuuya whispers.

Kunikida has work he needs to finish. He needs to make dinner, so it’ll be ready when Kenji returns from helping the Tanizaki siblings. He should also probably shower tonight.

“Of course,” he agrees anyway.

Chuuya’s grin is more than worth scrapping his schedule for the evening.

kenji & naomi + platonic kiss

Kenji places his finished flower crown on Naomi’s head, clicking his tongue as he does so. Once it’s in place, he steps back and grins. “It looks very nice on you, Naomi-san. You were right—the red flowers do match the tie on your uniform!”

Naomi giggles. She immediately grabs for her phone, turning on the front-facing camera so she can look at herself. Kenji has been making flower crowns for everyone in the office lately, because it gives him something to do with his hands, and Naomi is thrilled to finally have one of her own.

She’s already decided that once the flowers begin to wilt, she’s going to press them so she can keep the crown forever.

Once she’s finished admiring the crown, she sets her phone down and turns back to Kenji. She leans forward, kissing the top of his head. “Thank you, Kenji-kun. I love it.”

tachigin + bloody kiss

Tachihara’s face is painted red like the uniform marking his betrayal. The band-aid over his nose is half-peeled off, dangling awkwardly. The white bandages over his eyes are stained with blood.

But he’s still standing. He’s alive. Gin could nearly weep in relief.

They rush over to him, dodging the corpses littering the ground. They sheath their knife without bothering to clean the blade before throwing their arms around Tachihara and dragging him into a tight hug.

“Gin—”

“Don’t,” they interrupt.

Tachihara falls silent.

There are a thousand things Gin could say, but none of them seem quite right and Gin has never been particularly fond of speaking anyway. So they pull back just enough to crash their lips against Tachihara’s. The kiss tastes coppery, and Gin doesn’t know who the blood belongs to, but it doesn’t matter because Tachihara is alive.

They run a hand through his hair, imagining red now streaked through the dyed orange. Their tongue flicks against a cut on Tachihara’s lip, and he whimpers before opening his mouth wider to deepen the kiss.

#kunichuu spiderman kiss so real so true i need more of it NOW!!!!!#also tachigin should get bloody more often i think #anywayyy ty for the ask lena!! sorry i'm probably posting this while you're asleep #kunichuu #kenji miyazawa #naomi tanizaki #tachigin #bsd #grace's writing tag #ask game #lena tag

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thezombieprostitute · 1 day

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A Change is Coming

💐Send a whole bouquet!💐Write a surprise drabble or create a moodboard for them.

This is an idea I had floating around and I don’t know if I’ll ever get to use it on a full fic so I will dress it up in daisies for you, dearest Zombie. Hoping it isn't too dark or bloody.

Warnings: Injury and Blood.

You never thought you’d be a runner. How often did you see those people in their short shorts and loose tanks, toned legs and sweaty foreheads, bouncing with their earbuds in, arms pumping, knees lifting. You could never be one of them...

Well, now you are. It’s a change. A big change. One long-needed. One made out of fear and panic.

You have to get healthier. You have to try. You’re starting to feel your age, really, you feel beyond it.

You tried other things. Yoga was too slow and breathy. Weight-training a bit too heavy and too much. And the gym in general sent you running with sore muscles and no less self-esteem issues.

Running. Rather, jogging. You’re starting off easy. A slow pace through the trail. You don’t need to worry about the gym bros and their judgment or the girls in their tight leggings filming for Tiktok. It’s just you and nature and oof, your knees!

Two weeks now. That’s an achievement. Sort of. Two weeks but you gotta keep it up. No time to start patting yourself on the back until you see results.

Your breath is harried and burning. Your fitbit buzzes at you, slow down. You ease up as you come up and incline. Your thighs are on fire. You wait until you reach another dip before you speed up again. Your heart pumps hotly and you feel that odd calm that comes at your peak. You feel almost good. You feel--

Something catches your ankle. Something you couldn’t see as you kept your eyes six feet ahead. At first, the pain doesn’t occur to you, not as you’re sent stumbling forward, crashing, arms flailing as you land on the leaf-strewn trail.

You lay on your stomach, panting. You groan and roll over, sitting up as you spot the obstruction that tripped you up. A wire tied across the path. It can’t be a coincidence. It’s a trap.

You look down at your ankle, the one that met the wire. You nearly scream as you see the gash and how your foot hangs to one side. Then you feel it. Your adrenaline courses but cannot numb the agony that creeps up from your injured leg. You hardly feel the scrapes all over your arms and knees as you stare at the torn flesh.

You babble dumbly. What do you do? How do you get out of here? You’re too afraid to move. Oh god. What’s happened to you? Why you?

Your hands shake as you hold them before you in shock. You hear a rustle of leaves and the wire slackens. You blink and stair as a man walks across the path, winding it up around his hand. He turns to face you as he unhooks it from the other side.

He tuts as he comes closer, looming over you. He wears a hoodie and a beanie, a dark stubbly beard across his jaw and cheeks, his blue eyes the only bright thing about him. He tilts his head and squat before you as he examines your ankle with a suck of his teeth.

“Yikes, that really did a number on you,” he comments, “won’t be walking this one off.”

You whimper, terrified. He’s unfazed by the sight of your blood. In fact, he’s not bothered at all by the scene before him. By the way he holds the wire, you know he set it up.

He looks you in the face and tilts his head, “you’re not the one I wanted...” he pulls the knapsack off his shoulder and tucks away the wire inside, “but you’ll do.”

He swings the bag over his back and moves over you. You cower as he bends to hook his arms under yours. He braces you, the smell of the forest clinging to him.

“Now, you wanna keep your weight off the right foot, so work with me,” he girds, “you’ll be better off if you do everything I say.”

You shudder and suck in air as he makes you stand. Your toe hits the ground and jars your ankle. You yelp and cling to him out of instinct.

“Keep that foot up, sweetheart,” he warns as he turns to stretch his arm across your back, “we got a long way to go.”

Thanks so much for this, Roo! I really appreciate it!

Is it bad that my first thought is "he's selling me to Kemp!" 😅

Kemp has to back out of the chase for a while, too familiar to too many people. So he hires a few people to do his hunting for him. He doesn't care how they get the girls so long as the girls are alive and pretty.

So Curtis relies on his trapper skills. He finds his prey, gets her usual routine figured out, and sets his trap. But he catches you instead. Pretty enough, Curtis thinks. Can still get my payday.

The trek back to his truck is, of course, slow and painful. You vomit at least once from the pain. Sitting in the truck doesn't help much, either. At least he's got some medical supplies there and starts treating the ankle though you throw up again from the pain.

By the time you get to your destination much of the shock has worn off and the tears are flowing. He helps you limp inside. You know you should scream, try to fight, something, anything but with how casually he treats your pain you get the impression he could make it so much worse without care.

When you're sitting down again, your captor calls out for someone named Kemp. Kemp walks in, sees you and says, "I said 'pretty' girls, Curtis. I'm not buying this one."

"She's pretty enough for your clients. You can always sell her parts with someone else's photo."

"I have a reputation to keep amongst my clients. One hint that they're not getting what they ordered I could be ruined."

"Fine, just pay me half but you're keeping her."

Kemp considers you. "She does seem rather docile. Maybe I could find another use for her besides meat."

Should the story continue? 😆

#zombie asks #dark!curtis everett #dark!steve kemp

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minniethemoocherda · 4 hours

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Can I Lay By Your Side?

Summary: In the aftermath of Sinister's attack, Morph struggles to get to sleep, so Logan keeps them company by watching a movie.

A/N: This fic can be read as a sequel to my other Morpherine fic "Loving You is a Losing game" but also works as a stand alone. Also cannot believe I have written two Morpherine fics in two days??? I am going insane right now!! Can't promise that any more fics about these two will be as consistent! Xxxxxx

Ao3

FF.net

Morph sat glued to the living room sofa, unable to make themselves move, terrified to go to bed to face the onslaught of nightmares waiting for them.

Mr Sinister's attack had been an ordeal for all the X-men, especially for the two Jeans and Scott who now had to grieve the loss of their son to the future. Morph's problems felt ridiculous in comparison. Sinister hadn't even controlled them again, not if you counted making Jean do it for him. There wasn't really anything for them to be upset about.

Yet every time they closed their eyes, they could feel the tendrils of Sinister's claws inside them. Morph scratched their arms, skin turning to gloop under their fingernails, digging for the mind control chips they swore they could still feel buried there.

"Pick one."

Logan slammed a box down on the coffee table in front of them, startling their edges back to a solid form.

"Huh?" Morph stammered, having not even heard their friend come in.

"We're watching a movie." Logan stated, pointing at the box.

Morph peeked over the edge to see a pile of rom-coms, their favourite genre.

"Unless you'd rather... talk... about it." Logan said, in a gruff imitation of Morph's offer back in the club. And on any other day, Morph probably would've excepted his offer, if it hadn't been Logan himself that had appeared in their nightmare. And there was no way in hell they were going to be talking to Logan about that.

"And miss the chance to finally make you watch Pretty Woman?" Morph replied, knowing that their attempt at a smile did not reach their eyes.

Thankfully Logan didn't comment on it and instead grabbed the VHS, wound it back with the tip of his claw and placed it in the player below the TV.

Morph was expecting Logan to sit in his usual spot at the other end of the sofa, so was therefore caught off guard when the Canadian sat right next to them.

They deliberately tried not to think about that fact as the opening credits started to roll. As it continued they found themselves becoming more engrossed in the film, admiring all of Julia Robert's iconic outfits, that red dress in particular giving them inspiration for whatever gala the x-men were next invited too. They allowed themselves get lost in the romance of a rags to riches tale as like all rom-coms the main character converged ever closer to a happy ending. The guaranteed happy ending, being the reason why the genre was their favourite in the first place.

The film even managed to get a chuckle out of Logan, which Morph counted as a win as they knew that with the revelation of an additional Jean, he had to be going through his own shit.

And when Morph's attention wavered and the edges of their skin started to droop, Logan placed his arm along the back of the sofa, his hand resting on their shoulder, effectively grounding them back to this reality.

Even if it did made it harder for Morph to as much attention to the movie afterwards.

Too soon the film finished and whilst Morph was feeling more solid, they still weren't ready for the concept of going to sleep yet.

Without even having to ask, Logan picked up the remote and rewound the tape back to the beginning, even though Morph knew that Logan wasn't a fan of films, rom-coms especially so. But he made no complaints as Richard Gere once again fell head over heals for the beautiful Julia Roberts.

Once again, the big ballgown scene played out and it was becoming a battle for Morph to keep their eyes open. Too exhausted to talk themselves out of it, hoping to conserve some of their energy into staying awake, Morph rested their head against Logan's shoulder. Expecting Logan to brush them off or turn it into another joke, they were surprised when he actually pulled them closer, his hand now properly gripping their shoulder as though they could physically shield them from their own nightmares.

And it must have worked as the next time Morph opened their eyes, daylight was flickering in through the living room windows. The first thing they noticed as they slowly came to their senses, was the low volume of the TV as it played the movie for what must've have been the tenth time. The next was that their whole body was pressed against Logan's side and that The Wolverine's hand had moved from their shoulder to their waist, hugging them even tighter.

"Sleep alright?" Logan asked, concern etched in the creases of his face.

Morph nodded, not trusting the words I love you to not tumble out of their mouth.

"Good," Logan said, those creases turning into a smile. "'Cus I can smell Jubilee making pancakes."

Of course that was when Morph finally woke up enough to realise that they were cuddling The Fucking Wolverine.

They practically ejected themselves from the sofa, putting as much distance between them and Logan as physically possible.

"Did you say pancakes?" Morph cried, acting as though their internal mental breakdown was actually just an over enthusiasm for food. "Why didn't you wake me up sooner?"

Not waiting to see Logan's reaction, they sprinted down the corridor to the kitchen, not realising until they were long gone that Logan must have stayed awake to protect them all night.

#morpherine #morph #wolverine #x men 97 #x men the animated series #mr sinister #jubilee #logan x morph #morph x wolverine #morph x men #kevin sydney #james logan howlett #logan howlett

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