#(side note: it sure sounded to me in my head like ���man” was being thrown like an insult. thats so funny to me tbh)

[sagegreenyaps]

You transandrobros fucking Reek of the patriarchy

Get out of the feminist tags man

Do I reek of the patriarchy... or do you? Because from that little generalization, it sure sounds like you're rather fond of reinforcing the things that oppressors have built their preferred society around, just for only slightly different-- but nevertheless irrelevant-- reasons.

[s-sugustar]

Your heroes — 𝒟．𝐆𝐫𝐚𝐲𝐬𝐨𝐧 , 𝒥．𝐓𝐨𝐝𝐝

🎧﹒synopsis ﹒✢﹐— Should've left her in my care, this wouldn't have happened if you did. — 𝒟．𝐆𝐫𝐚𝐲𝐬𝐨𝐧

🎧﹒pairings ﹒✢﹐— Yandere! Red Hood x blk!fem reader x Yandere! Nightwing

🎧﹒content warning ﹒✢﹐— dark content, drug usage, smut, dub-con, power play if you squint hard enough, impact play, spitting, choking, degradation

🎧﹒author's notes ﹒✢﹐— had this in my drafts for ages since i had been a bit skeptical about posting it but here it is.

🎧﹒wc ﹒✢﹐— 3.1k

“D’aww, look Jay. She’s drooling.” Grayson concedes, his hips pushing further and further into while his hand wrapped around your throat, squeezing both sides from time to time. Jason struggled against the ropes as he watched Grayson mercilessly pound into you. The whining and tiredness in your voice had caught Grayson mid-way; stopping you from reaching your climax. “Is the baby tired?” he seethed, pulling you up by the neck to stop you from slumping over onto the bed.

Screeching in pain, the squinting of your eyes and the muffled sounds of your screams had been enough for Jason to wince. Everything was hurting and he knew that but there was nothing he could do. His limbs were like jello and his energy was gone; all because of some poison Grayson had thrown at him when he tried to stop Grayson from entering his apartment. 

“Babe, you know the rules. You go to work, and you come straight back home, y’hear me?” Jason muttered, giving you a light kiss on the lips before placing one on your forehead before putting the metal helmet on. You really wished he didn’t have to lead this type of life; you wanted him to settle down for a bit, so you begged. Every single time he bid you goodbye at 2 in the morning, you always had something to say about staying home with you.

Regardless of how you put it each time, his answer had been the same regardless. “Gotta provide for you and f’me baby. Gotham needs to be at peace once in a while.” The end part being a joke to cheer you up or in hopes of making you laugh but that never happened. Staying quiet seemed like the best option every single time after the very first time you brought it up. 

To say it in the easiest way is best. Jason is paranoid; a bit too in over his head but his paranoia comes from years of battling against Batman and the fear of the Joker finding him once again and stripping him of everything, only this time, he feared it would be you with the aches of being hit with a crowbar.

After his resurrection, Jason bulked to say the least. His confidence hadn’t been there but he was stronger than before and he knew for a certainty that he would have a better chance at protecting you than before. Hiding away in the most grimy places in Gotham was his best alternative at this point. 

After becoming Red Hood, many of the districts fell under him as he ranked up. Unfortunately, he had a run-in with the one and only Batman, and to say that it ended in the most gruesome way possible was an understatement. Oh, no one was injured gravely, but the feelings that had been pent up for years had come all undone. 

“Jason, I’m sorry.” It took three words for the young boy to fall to his knees in tears. After all that he had been through, he still cherished the man that left him to die. Oh what a pity. But alas, had it only been the Bruce and Grayson that had been in mourning? Dear God no. Had anyone think to check on Y/n, who had been Jason’s best friend? Grayson sure did. He had to be the one to keep her going after she heard the news.

The pain, the torment, the nightmares day in and out. It was a lot for Y/n to keep on going but Grayson made it better. During that time of need, Grayson stayed by your side through everything. He was your shoulder to cry on, the one who made you laugh till your stomach aches. He was your everything and all in one when Jason couldn’t have been. 

“You know I’ll never leave you right?”  Grayson questioned, he peered down at you with a sullen look in his eyes, his fingers grazing the sides of your face.You fell asleep not too long ago, your head perched on a pillow with your head resting against Grayson’s arm. He knew that you wouldn’t have answered him, you had an extremely long day and with today being the 2 year anniversary of Jason’s death casting your light down even further than it was.

Bruce hadn’t been around you much, guilt filled his heart whenever he saw you so he chose to stay away. Grayson on the other hand, he knew that you lost the one who truly understood you, who had been there through thick and thin. Although Jason meant everything to you, Grayson held a piece of your heart as a dear beloved friend. 

To say that Grayson hadn’t felt a little bad that he was a bit glad that Jason had been gone was quite the understatement. He felt some sort of joy to see the way your eyes watered and your lips quivering before you had a full-blown breakdown. The heaving and small sniffles that came from you whilst Grayson soothed you made his heart do flips.

Now, Grayson was a sadist in any form or fashion but the way you looked, so vulnerable, so heartbroken, God did it do some things to him. Maybe it won't be a breakdown next time, maybe you'll be under him squirming and squealing as thrusts his dick into you. His plan was in place, all he needed was to wait for the right moment.

Silence filled the room as you looked straight ahead of you, shock written all over your face. You couldn't move, you dearly wish you could've in this moment but how could you when the one you thought was dead stood boldly in front of you, a metal bodice surrounding his form and a metal mask in hand. "Jason?" was the only thing that fell from your lips as you drank in the boy or well man that stood before you.

Red had always been his favorite color from young; you never forgot. His eyes seemed distant; his stance wasn't as before. Rigid and hollow, many walls built for the sake of his sanity and maybe yours but in this moment, all of that crumbled when he spoke. "I came back. I came back. . . . .for you." All the love that had been shared between the two of you came rushing in like a tidal wave, breaking whatever strong force that tried to pull it back.

Grayson laid on the floor, bruised and bleeding; his mouth pooling with the taste of metal and the sight of red on the pavement. He cursed heavily before pulling himself up, his head against the nearest wall as he held his abdomen in pain. "That stupid red mask." He found his way home, easing through the open window, maybe a bounce in his step to see you.

A burning sensation rang through his jaw but that didn't stop him from calling out to you. Yet, he was met with silence. Odd. Usually you would have your arms wrapped around his torso, completely unaware of the wounds he had until a wince fell from his lips making you completely aware of his wounds before apologizing. "Hey munchkin, this isn't the time to play hide and seek with me. I'm hurt and I need your company right now."

Yet no response, again. Maybe you were asleep. With his head, he peeked into the room, quietly surveying it before slipping in ever so quietly. "Baby, stop heading from m-." "She's not hiding from you, she's gone." Nightwing sneered, wincing as he turned to face the one with a metal helmet coated in red with white lenses stared back at his broken body.

His hand balled into a fist before speaking, blood pooling in his mouth. "Where did you take her? Where the hell did you take her Red Hood?" A deep rumble emitted from his throat, his eyes squinting as he stalked towards the bigger man. Yet he didn't make it far as the barrel of a gun found refuge between his eyes, the metal was cold and hard since Red Hood pressed it harder against the skull of Nightwing.

"You come after her, I put a bullet in between your eyes, Grayson." The name fell from Jason's lips with much hatred and malice but with the built in modulator it was hard for Nightwing to understand the emotions behind what he had said. With a pregnant pause, Red Hood gave Nightwing one last look before going out through the window. Nightwing grunted in anger and in pain but stood in his place for a couple of minutes. He'll get you back, one way or another.

"Sugar, you know I love you too much but I can't let you out. I'm sorry." Jason reasoned, it had been almost a year since he scooped you up from Grayson and you loved every bit of it but you felt caged. You couldn't leave the apartment, orders of Jason Todd. Sure, he had his reasons, but you wanted out. No, you needed to get out.

Seeing the same four walls day in and day out started to make you lose your mind and you couldn't afford to do that right now: not to Jason anyways. He had been through too much for you to act out and start whining over not being able to leave the house. Maybe it was for the best. Just like what Grayson used to say.

Grayson, Richard Grayson or well Dick as he wished you to call him. Boy was he some character. His worrisome state and his constant clinginess had been enough for you. You knew he meant well but sometimes you felt if there had been some sort of kick he was getting out of this.

You knew he meant well but sometimes you could feel something more sinister and darker, something he wasn't saying or well doing. Shaking your head from such perilous thoughts, you switched through channels trying to find some that would catch your attention.

A few hours later, you fell into sleepy state, your eyes shutting but blinking back to life to stay focused on the movie that had been playing. What did seem to catch your attention was the loud thunk that echoed from a room in the corridor. You sat up looking towards the hallway patiently waiting for Jason to appear.

Glancing over at the digital clock that showed 2:14 a.m. in bright red colors, it was around this time that Jason would normally get home but seeing that he didn't appear yet, you went to investigate. You peered into the training room, calling out to him. but you saw nothing, the only other room there had been the one both you and Jason slept in, so you headed there. You pushed open the door, a curious look upon your face when you saw that he hadn't been in there either, maybe something fell.

Now, you weren't one to be paranoid, but you felt goosebumps rise against your skin and the hairs on the back of your neck rising. You were being watched. At times like this, you wish Jason had trained you in some sort of hand-to-hand combat, something you could fight with, but he left you helpless, like a doll without blemishes, perched in a high place just to look pretty and keep up appearances. So caught up in the pretenses of the happy life you lived and the one you longed for, you weren't able to sense the light steps that followed behind you so in esseence, you were an easy target.

Yelping in pain, you grabbed the side of your head from the place where you had been hit and at the same time, you turned to see the culprit, but instead of meeting a face, your eyes met the hard plywood within the apartment; splotches of black covering your sight. Soon enough, you were out cold and left in the hands of the culprit.

A sheer gasp fell from your lips as some strong force from behind. Wrapping their dominant hand around your waist and one hand gripped against your mouth. You tried to scream and hit them at the same time but all failed when the perpetrator tightened their grip on your waist and squeezed the flesh of your jaw, nails and the fabric on their hands digging into your skin.

"C'mon sweetheart, don't be like that to poor little Grayson." Your eyes widen in fear when a voice you could never forget sounded from behind you, but you weren't so shaken by the fact that Grayson had been pounding you whilst you slept but the fact that Jason had been tied to a chair, eyes wide open and staring right at you.

Brusies of all shapes and colors decorated his skin, more so the black eye that was starting to form. It was only then that you realized he had been gagged with some sort of sheer material from what you could see.

Then you saw the watery look in his eyes, was it because of the bruises, maybe so. That had been your first guess since it couldn't possibly be that he was crying, was he? With the little energy you had left, you twisted and turned your arm to loosen the grip that had been around it before you snatched it away, reaching towards Jason with a soft wail leaving your lips as you tried to reach him.

Alas, but Grayson had been attentive. Although caught up in filling you up with his cum and making sure Jason knew you were his, he pulled back your wrist, a tighter grip than before, wrenching it back in the same position, not caring if he had hurt you in the moment.

"You pull away from me again and I will break both your arms, understand?" Fear enveloped your entire body, but you still nodded, not wanting to anger the man any further. Maybe it had been your body that made you fall into the deep end. Panting at the surge of pleasure that flew through you as Grayson thrusted against your hips; the slick fabric rubbing against your skin every time he moved. The grip on your hips maybe have been tight but it felt good, really good. You weren't the only one who felt good in this moment though, the sane yet needy body that had been ravishing you from behind felt the shift in your stance.

Your arch deepened and your moans and whines felt more eased than strained; you were finally started to like it and that made Grayson excited. Yet on the other hand, Jason was furious; fingers deeply caved into his palms, he wouldn't be surprised if they were bleeding and his teeth clashed to the point where his jaw started to hurt. He shook against the restraints, pulling and twisting to find some sort of release.

His teeth snapping into one of your soiled panties, which he only learned that it was when Grayson had pointed it out when you were still passed out. The sweat shined in the moon light, beads of it dripping from his eyebrow. He felt hot and squeamish, he needed to get out of these restraints. Groaning at the rope that restricted his wrists, the roughness from it, bruising his wrists. The discomfort from the tactical pants he wore; not only from the ropes that sat around his ankles but also from inside of them.

The pushing against the fabric, a bit too tight for his liking. God, he felt disgusted with himself, but the sight of you was so appealing, he needed more; needed to feel you, feel inside you. The deep hollowness within his stomach stated enough, it was detrimental but addicting.

He hated the way Grayson corrupted you, pushing you into unknown waters, hazy of all things around you. He wanted to keep you safe, away from the dangers of this world, safe and wrapped in his arms. He was pulled from his thoughts when Grayson started to mumble, murmuring words into your ear. Jason didn't even realize that you were awake; eyes wide and staring right at him.

Was it shock or fear? Normally, with his enhanced hearing, he would have been able to hear every word that Grayson whispered to you and maybe he would've been able to break out from the ropes if his advanced strength and agility was still there but whatever Grayson had in that syringe caused his energy to deplete and his limbs to feel gummy.

Back to present moment where Grayson had your back arched and head pushed down in the mattress, Jason watched as you wiggle and squirm but every time that you did, you received a harsh slap to your thigh, causing you to whine in protest. Grayson had pulled out from his daze and looked towards Jason with a large smile, canines pointed and sharp, ready to strike and pierce.

He saw the mischievous glint in his eyes; that meant he was up to absolutely no good. "God Y/n, your blood smells divine. I don't understand why Jason hasn't sunken his teeth into you yet." As Grayson spoke, Jason's eyes widen in fear, head shaking vigorously, trying to signal to Grayson not to do it but by the smile etched on his face, he knew his attempts were futile.

Your screams were muffled by Grayson's hand as he sunk his teeth into your exposed neck, gripping your neck as he pulled it further to the side for more access. The man in restraints screamed, begged Grayson to stop but his screams were muffled by the now soaking wet fabric that invaded his mouth. His chest rising and falling at a rapid pace, eyes blown wide and bright in red as he heard your screams dying down and head lolling to the side, indicating that you had passed out from too much of your blood being taken.

"Oh no, poor baby all tuckered out." Grayson taunted, dropping your limp body back onto the bed as he pulled out of you; not caring enough to clean you up or wrap you in a soft cotton cloth. The older man got up from the bed, grabbing his escrima sticks before walking over to the chair that Jason had been tied to. With a pat on the shoulder, Grayson left Jason tied to the chair with nothing else but to stare at your unconscious body in the moonlight.

Tears cascading down his face not just from sadness of not being able to protect but from anger that the one person he trusted defiled the one person that kept him going. Once Jason was out of the ropes, he'd clean you and keep you warm but after his eyes were dead set on Richard 'Dick' Grayson and destroying everything he stood for. This meant war.

[ficarcheologist]

୧ ⊹₊ ⋆ between us 💭 feyd rautha

WARNINGS ⁞ smut, 18+, profanity, innuendo, afab reader, she/her pronouns

OPs NOTES ⁞ a/n: from an anon request. just a fun lil drabble // Summary: Feyd gives you a gift that you won't soon forget, proving nothing will come between the two of you.

MY NOTES ⁞ This is not my work. If you are the owner of this work and would like it taken down, please provide proof of ownership and I will take it down/redirect where necessary! Link to the fic reblogged on one of my other side blogs.

It’s late when Feyd finally comes to your shared bedchamber. His days have grown longer ever since taking up the title of Baron. He resents that it takes him away from you. You’re the only thing that’s ever made him truly happy. But this burden is his honor and his duty as his uncle’s chosen heir. Though he spends so many hours away from you, he always makes sure to return to your bed and only yours every night. He had his fun with his concubines, memories that he looks back on with fondness, but now? He can’t imagine being with anyone but you. His pets have fallen to the wayside ever since the first time he had you. 

Nothing and no one else could ever satisfy him the way you do.

Feyd expects you to come running into his arms, embracing him as you always do. He is a cold man, bloodthirsty and cruel, but your love and affection softens him. He frowns when he opens the door and sees you standing at the balcony, wearing your nightgown. The moon lights up your skin, making you look like some sort of ethereal goddess. He approaches you, moving your hair off your shoulder to press a kiss to the soft skin of your neck. You’re so lost in thought that you don’t even notice.

He turns you around to face him, hands cupping your face as he questions, “What troubles you?”

As if waking from a trance, you blink, meeting his gaze with a melancholy smile, “Nothing, my lord. Everything is fine.”

Your answer comes a moment too quickly and Feyd shakes his head, “I know you well enough to know when you’re lying to me.”

You pause before sighing, “Promise you won’t make fun of me?”

The way you ask is so endearing that he can’t help but nod, “I promise.”

“One of your… Concubines…” It’s as if you struggle to say the word, your innocence bringing a smile to his face as he forces himself to hold back a chuckle, “One of them approached me and…” You shake your head, cutting yourself off, “Never mind. You’ll think it’s stupid.”

Feyd narrows his eyes, gripping your chin in his hand, squeezing slightly, “Tell me.”

You gaze up at him through your lashes, the sight of which has never failed to make his heart, which he once thought to be nonexistent, melt, “She said a weak little thing like me could never satisfy you the way the three of them did. That you’ll grow bored of me and come back to them. That you don’t…”

The way your breath hitches, tears pooling in your eyes…

Rage fills your husband, fire in his veins, “That I don’t what, little one?”

“That you don’t love me. That you never will,” comes your anguished whisper. Feyd lets out an animalistic growl, baring his teeth in a snarl. “Feyd, please don’t be angry with me, I shouldn’t have said anything-”

He quickly realizes that you’ve mistaken his anger as being directed toward you and loosens his grip, shaking his head though his expression is still furious, “I’m not angry at you. I would never be angry at you. You are the only one who brings any sense of calm into my life, little one. You are my wife. I chose you.”

He releases you from his grip, stalking past you toward the door. 

Your lips part in surprise as you stare after him, confused, “My lord?”

Feyd pauses, turning to look at you, pulling his dagger from its sheath, gritting his teeth, “I have to take care of something, my love. I’ll return soon.”

“FEYD?!”

His grin is bloody at the sound of your shriek, the heads of his three concubines thrown at your feet. Feyd chuckles as you scramble backward on the bed, staring at the disembodied heads with shock. He crawls over your body, feeling pleased when you calm at his touch, your hands resting on his cheeks, still stained with blood. He traces your lips with his thumb, watching as your eyes flutter shut at his touch.

“I will never let anyone come between us, little one,” he rasps, pressing his lips to your jaws, the blood of his concubines staining your skin, “Never. You are the one I love, the one I chose. I never went to see them after I took you as my own because I know their touch could never satisfy my lust, my love the way yours can.”

You kiss him, your legs parting to accommodate his frame as his tongue moves against your own. He’s eager tonight, you muse, feeling the bulge in his pants pressing against you. He moves your underwear to the side, fingers stroking at your slit, a wicked smile on his face.

“Seeing your lord husband painted in blood made you so wet,” Feyd whispers, “It seems my little wife isn’t so innocent after all.”

You bite back a smile as he spreads your thighs, mouthing at your wet cunt. And when you close your eyes, your head falling back against your pillow, he lands a slap against your center. A reminder that if you don’t keep your eyes locked on him, what he’s doing to you, he won’t allow you to reach your peak. He moans, pulling you in close, burying his face between your legs, inhaling your scent as he continues lapping at your folds like a man starved. Your fingers twist in the silken bedsheets, losing yourself in the pleasure he gives you, reaching your peak against his tongue, pulling him into another kiss as he crawls over you.

“No woman could ever taste as sweet, mewl my name so perfectly,” he vows, slipping his pants down to reveal his pale cock, already achingly hard, leaking from the tip, “It’s only you, my love. No one will ever come between us. Not even death.”

Your legs wrap around his waist, feeling him rut against you, his cock brushing against your sweet spot every time he slams back into you, your nails raking down the pale skin of his back, leaving an angry red trail in their wake. Feyd bites down hard on your neck, hard enough to draw blood and leave a mark. You take his hand, bringing it to your throat, and Feyd immediately knows what you wish of him. He squeezes, restricting your airflow, smirking at the way it makes your body tense, your peak quickly approaching once again. Your eyes roll back as he spills himself inside you, his hot seed filling you.

Perhaps you seemed a sweet, unassuming little thing to your husband’s former lovers. But they didn’t realize that the longer you spent with him, the more your tastes began to mirror those of your husband.

He presses his lips to yours in a kiss, uncharacteristically gentle and yet still so very passionate as he vows to you once again, “I love you. Nothing will ever come between us.”

You grin, moving to lay on top of him, raking your nails down his chest as you whisper, feeling his cock already beginning to twitch against your thigh, “I believe you, my husband.”

Feyd chuckles, hands moving to palm at the flesh of your ass, groaning slightly as you continue your ministrations, clearly not wanting tonight’s fun to be through, “What a greedy little monster I’ve made of you, little one.”

[iridescentprose]

Danny x reader insert—The Bikeriders

summary; in which your perception about Danny begins to change.

warning(s); none just fluff

author's note: thanks for voting in my last poll! expect more fics to come!

The first punch was thrown about an hour after the picnic started.

Of course a little blood and a couple of loose teeth on the ground didn't bother you when you were watching the Vandals from a distance alongside their wives.

Unfortunately, you were a little too close for comfort this time when the first punch was thrown and Kathy, Gail, and Betty were nowhere in sight.

Scrambling from the wooden picnic table, you sidestepped two drunken bikers tussling with Johnny on the ground. The two assailants wore colors you didn't recognize.

"You dumb pieces of—"

A breeze of nicotine rushed past you, making you stumble. His slew of insults got lost in the sound of violent grunts that took place behind you.

You opened your mouth to tell Benny to watch it, but you quickly shut up, knowing that your words would get lost in the wind as he headed straight for Johnny's rescue.

You couldn't have been more grateful for leaving your secluded spot at the picnic table just in time for Benny to tackle one of the bikers on top of Johnny, and throw him onto the wooden surface. Thankfully, you turned your head just in time to hear Benny's knuckles crack against the man's nose.

"Y/N!"

You lifted your head upwards, narrowly missing Wahoo and Corky as they drunkenly ran past you to help Benny—who was most likely getting himself killed because of his recklessness. You shielded your eyes from the sun and sprinted towards the voice that called out your name.

By the time you reached the pickup truck, Danny had his hand extended towards you. You took it, and he carefully pulled you up onto the bed of the truck, sweat sprinkling his forehead. Once he was sure you caught your footing, he released your hand and you took a seat on the blanket that was sprawled beneath you.

"I didn't know you liked seeing 'em fight up close," Danny joked, readjusting the strap of his camera around his neck. He pointed the silver lens at the mob that was now forming around the area where you were once sitting.

"I don't," you said, eyes going to the side of his face and then to the commotion from afar. You brushed the dirt and loose pieces of grass from your palms before sitting on the side of your knees folded under you.

Although you didn't care much for any of those Vandals, you only stuck around because the Wives were the only friends you truly had. The only thing setting you apart from them was the fact that you weren't married to one of those brutes in a matching leather jacket. (You weren't married at all, to be frank.) But this fact didn't bother you. In fact, you had no intention of ever wanting to marry a Vandal for the sake of them either getting killed on their bike or cut by somebody's knife. You simply enjoyed their company because it was must better than being alone.

But your dislike for some of the Vandals didn't outweigh your distrust for Danny.

Perhaps it was his probing questions towards you and your friends, or that invasive rectangular box with a lens that hung around his neck. Regardless, you didn't trust him fully. Either that, or he intrigued you and you didn't want to admit it entirely to yourself.

"How come you're not out there helpin' them?" You asked in between the clicks of his camera. "Don't know how to fight?"

You knew the answer to this, but you just wanted to shake off the embarrassment of nearly getting in the middle of a breakout fight.

"I'm not much of a fighter," he said with a chuckle, a look of amusement passing over his features. "I prefer to be behind the camera instead of in front of it."

"Well, I prefer there not be a camera in the first place."

"Is that why you won't let me take a picture of you, Y/N?"

You turned to look at him, your cheeks getting warmer than the sun beating down on you both. He was looking straight ahead, seemingly satisfied with the pictures of sweaty, bloody men rolling around in the dirt. He grinned when he finally looked at you. "You're camera shy. Is that why you won't let me take your picture?"

"I'm not shy. I just don't like my picture taken, that's all," you said, defensively.

"Well, do you like taking the pictures?" He got off his knees and sat next to you, removing the camera from around his neck.

You shuffled, putting a bit of distance between you. "I've never tried." You shrugged carelessly, finding this conversation to be pointless and ridiculous.

"Maybe you'll like being behind the camera, then."

Before you could respond, Danny placed his camera in your lap. "You look through that little square there," he said, pointing to the back of the camera, "and make sure it aligns just right. Then you pull this lever back and press that button at the top to take the picture."

You looked down at the camera in your hands before looking at Danny with a lifted brow.

He chuckled softly. "Come on, try it." He took the strap of the camera and carefully draped it around your neck, his fingers lightly brushing the little hairs there. Quietly, he demonstrated on how to hold it up to your face and you reluctantly mimicked his movements. "Now, just find something interesting."

You took a breath and let your eyes sweep over the picnic. The fight had settled down and the boys were separating to their own corners. Some went to wrap their arms around their wives as if they had won the battle. The beers were flying left and right and the bikes were roaring in the distance. Perceptively, you panned the camera all the way around until you landed on the photographer himself. He was busy tinkering with his portable microphone.

At the sound of the click, he looked up as if surprised to be the subject of your aperture.

"How does it feel to be the one in front of the camera?" You grinned, playfully.

"Still nothing compared to being behind it," He smiled back before hopping off the bed of the truck. "But since you took my picture, you know what that means, right?"

He offered his hand to help you down. He slid off the truck with his ease and released his hand before smoothing out your shirt.

"What?" you asked, removing the camera from around your neck and handing it to him.

"That I get to take a picture of you" he insisted, kindly. "Just one, I promise. If that's okay."

You crossed your arms as if to mull it over before rolling your eyes. "Fine. Just one. But I don't know how to pose or anything."

"Just be you," he said, setting down his portable microphone. He put the camera around his neck and lifted it up to his face, waiting to take your picture.

You sighed and hoisted yourself on the tail-end of the bed of the truck. You crossed your legs and set your hands in your lap. Just as you were about to look directly at the camera, Betty had called your name from afar, waving you over. The camera clicked as you looked over Danny's shoulder as the group migrated to a small bonfire.

"Perfect," Danny said, looking down at his camera. He glanced behind him as the group formed before looking back at you. "You look great."

You hopped off the truck. "But I wasn't ready," you said with a slight laugh, knowing he had caught you off guard just as you had done him. "I wasn't even looking."

"The most beautiful pictures are the candid ones, Y/N." His smile lingered before he bent down and picked up his equipment. Slowly he turned to join the rest of the group surrounding a small fire.

It took you a moment as the butterflies in your stomach began to flutter about. The smile on your face stuck like glue and all of sudden you were unsure of what to do with your hands.

That Danny...he sure was somethin'.

[themotherofhorses]

im begging you, dark!aemond bodyguard of the president/king’s innocent daughter omggggg

pairing: bodyguard!aemond targaryen x president's daughter!reader

warnings: explicit language. oral sex. loss of virginity (kinda). daddy kink. slight breeding and housewife kink. small mentions of past obsessive tendencies on aemond's part.

notes: hello, long time no write. consider this me using this request like i'm saddling the horse after getting thrown off.

(also ik aemond might not seem AS dark as other times but like pretty pls read between the lines. thank you ☺️)

masterlist

For being the nation’s current president, your father was quite the fucking fool of a man.

He loves you, truly. How could he not? You were the spitting image of your late mother, and the youngest of his children- his sweet little chick that was barely beginning to spread her wings and leave the nest. He would never forgive himself if you ever got hurt due to his elected role as the commander-in-chief and head of state.

That was the main reason why he hired Aemond Targaryen as your personal bodyguard.

The man had a commendable record behind him, despite his young age. Your father was beyond impressed with him when he first interviewed him for the job. Two tours in the U.S. army as a sergeant and sniper before receiving an honorable discharge and a Purple Heart due to an eye injury while seeing combat overseas. According to some of the everyday politicians, he threw himself over his younger nephew during an ambush with enemy fire, and took a massive chunk of bomb shrapnel to the left side of his face; doctors saved him, of course, but his eye was too damaged to save.

They offered him a glass eye and a fully paid scar revision (along with special vet benefits and apparently some hush-hush money as well), but he refused it all. Instead, he accepted the purple heart, crammed a pretty and shiny sapphire into his empty socket, and made sure everyone- military personnel and civilian altogether- looked him in both eyes whenever they addressed him.

The rumors were true- Sergeant Aemond One-Eye was as terrifying as he was deadly.  

Perhaps that was the reason why it did not take very long for him to be buried between your thighs.

You never had a boyfriend before, always too devoted towards your college academic and hobbies, and way too protected and overshadowed by your father. But it was Aemond who stole your first kiss, two months into his new job as your bodyguard. He had been accompanying you on a small shopping trip to the mall, treating it as a sort of bonding experience. When you had mentioned the new lip gloss you were trying out (it was flavored ‘chai latte’), he had asked to taste it.

Okay! you giggled, thinking nothing of it; only for it to be a week later and with his head in between your thighs, eating you out like a starved man.

“Stop it…! Aemond! My daddy might walk in!” You cried, tossing your head back against the pillows as you bit down on your bottom lip to stop the moans from tumbling out. It was all in stupid vain; your bodyguard had you putty in his hands. Anything he wanted, you would happily give him- yourself included. “A-Aemond…!” How could he ever stop? Not when you sounded oh so fucking pretty, so sweet and yummy, his newfound favorite meal served to him on a silver platter, just ready to be completely devoured.

Aemond shook his head. “I don’t give the tiniest shit, babygirl,” he muttered as he sucked on your clit, only pausing every few seconds to kiss your soaked pussy. He had to be soft as well, considering this was a fucking dream come true for him.

The poor bastard remembered all the times he saw you on the television, in those paparazzi photos and the Christmas cards and those gorgeous social media posts of yours. No one would ever understand just how badly he wanted you, and the lengths he went just to have you.

And, well, maybe you should’ve thought first before stepping out in that sinful, short-cut and backless blue dress, the one that made you look perfect for him to knock up, his pretty little housewife. Perfect for him. Made for him. He kept your legs wide open with the tightest grips as he feasted on your cunt, ignoring your desperate (but adorable) attempts to push him away.

“If you can’t handle this, how will you handle my cock?” he tutted. “Poor baby, I’m going to fucking destroy you.”

Everything made your pretty face scrunch up in pleasure, especially when you felt him lick a large stripe up your pussy before he shoved his face in only deeper. You squealed, hiding your face from behind your hands. You could feel his nose, his chin, the heavy pants and low growls and soft kisses he peppered along inner thighs. “And what did I say to call me?” before he gave your ass a hard spank.

You whimpered, already on the verge of sobbing. Fat tears were streaking down your cheekbones. “I-I’m sorry…s-so sorry, daddy!”

Oh but your entire body felt like it was lit on fire- a burning yet tightening sensation nestled deep within your belly. It was so strange. You didn’t know what to make of it. Your head lolled to the side while your back arched up from the bed and your hand found Aemond’s long, whitish-blond hair.

(A common genetic mutation in his family, according to him. Some of the politicians mocked it as the ‘new Habsburg jaw’. You thought it made him look all the godlier.)

His hands soon slid up to your breast, palming and tweaking your nipples between his fingers. Your toes curled as you felt ready to explode at any second. “Daddy!” you mewled, peering down through teary eyes to watch as his face shook side-to-side. His own face held sheer bliss, especially when he brought a finger to trace along your drenched folds. “Daddy…! Daddy! Ah, gods, please!”  

“Yeah, that is right, pretty baby, I’m your new daddy now.”

Your father was none the wiser to the fact that, every night, his youngest daughter’s bodyguard had her in a mating press every night, whispering into her ear that it would not be long until she made him into a real daddy.

It was the least you could do in return, considering he was protecting your life with his.

After boring meetings and countless banquets and your a.m. college classes, Aemond would be quick to shove your panties in your mouth before bending you over the nearest furniture set.

You were his.

All his.

His pretty baby, his sweet little future housewife, the girl whose picture he used to secretly carry in one of the vest pockets during his days in the military.  

One day, your father pulled him aside and offered him a bonus.

“Truth is, son, you’re doing such a fine job at protecting her. I don’t worry as much as I did before you came along. We could not ask for a better bodyguard, Sergeant,” he admitted, patting him on the back. “Would there be anything you’d like in payment? A vacation? A bonus? Some free time with your family? I know you miss your mother very much; my little girl told me.”

But Aemond shook his head, declining everything. “Sir, with all due respect, your daughter feels like my new family now, considering how close we’ve grown in these past several months, and my duty in keeping her safe. I would prefer to remain by her side if you would allow it,” he said, and your father gave him a cheeky grin.

“Should I perhaps be worried, Sergeant?”

“Of course not, Mr. President. I adore your daughter, but only as a brother would his little sister.”

So it was true, it seemed- your father, bless his heart, was quite the fucking fool of a man. It should’ve been no surprise to him at all that seven months down the line from his conversation with your bodyguard, you would be trying to hide a swollen baby bump from everyone's eyes.

And if he really was smart, then he would’ve remembered the reason why the Targaryens were so often compared to the old Habsburgs of Austria.

[rat-rambles]

I'm gona explain to yall why I think Stanley is the one that's ace aro in cannon and not Ford or Bill. (Yes all head cannons are vaild blah blah I love acearo people I am one don't kill me)

So basically it comes down to if stan wanted some he could. Young stan seems to be considered relatively conventional attractive (not like ugly men don't mange to hook up but still) and even as a "ugly" old man he is the hottest old person in town befor Ford shows up and. Once he gets over his social awkwardness he is actually able to date he just isn't about that life. "What about Stanley's ex wife's" I hear you scream at your screens well thanks to Bill I have notes.

Thank you bill now could be lieing yes but frankly I don't think his god Alex would let that happen for something like this. Especially becuse it's way funnier if it's all cannon. Now I think 2 of them can be considered legitimate and there not exactly romantic are they. Stanley is well known to care more about money than any romantic relationship witch dosnt sound like some one who's not aro to me. I'll give that there are a couple jokes pokeing wholes in my theroy however personaly any atemps at straightness by stan just feel very performative to me. Like there's something a whole easy to about how stans masculinity is just a reaction to incurity but all I'll say for now is stan is despite to prove he's not a failure and part of growing up in the 80s and not being a failure is geting bitches. And yet he can't comit to a relationship for more than a few days and it's not for commitment isues bitch comited to a fucking portal for 30 years AFTER NEARLY FAILING HIGHSCHOOL. As I said if he wanted to he would.

Now I'm going to go on a long rant about Bill and Ford so if you don't want that stop now

Ok for the record staring off bill and ford are both unreliable narrators.

Ford (my first victim)

We've seen him get rejected twice in the show when he trying to flirt with girls the more famous one being when he gets punch thrown on him. Ford is a very scentive guy he can't handle rejection obvouly he's gona wax poetic about how it's not that he can't get any he's just you know so very busy. Funny how he's not busy when Bill comes into his life or fiddleford for that matter it's almost like that's not the problem

Now I can see how you can read this qa acearo core but all I hear is the autism talking. There is something intently funny to me about the idea that he stright up was dating a male sided demon and is like but am I gay. It's very conservative up bring of him very relatable. But seriously if he was ace aro he'd just lean into being superior not what ever this is.

Bill ( he wouldn't escape me)

Same thing yeah he wax poetic about chemicals witch yeah is something ace aros do but also like incels.

He literally is just asking dear not to ask him out a real problem when every freak reading this book wants to make out with him sorry Bill your hot shit.

The book is shaking you by the shoulders begging you to tell that he's lieing for clout. Bill is also begging you to take him seriously and he can't be serious if he can't even get any becuse he's a unlikeable losser.

Like I'm sorry guys the text just dosnt suport these 2 being acearo this is not the show for ace aro rep I'm sorry. This show is actually really really really obsessed with romantic relationships it's a well Alex keeps going back to witch is why I'm so sure about stanly becuse he's like the one character who actively rejects dating instead of just saying he's into into it. ITS GRAVITY FALLS EVERYONES A FUCKING LIAR.

[feizon]

SOMETHINGS NEVER CHANGE

warnings: blood + suggestive - !nfsw

summary: you had gotten used to your ex boyfriend's antics, the way he would pop out of nowhere and shower you with love just for him disappear from your grasp moments after. This time though, he was in a state you couldn't simply ignore.

note: fem!reader x kaneki ken / not proofread

I barely see kaneki smut so here you go <3

Last October was the last time you saw him, it would almost worry you if it was anything new. You could wait for months, weeks if you cared the slightest, not a text or a letter, heck not even an e-mail just to notify you about his whereabouts.

The cycle became sickingly repetitive. He would disappear without a trace or a single word uttered, would swoop in from nowhere and tell you the sweetest little lies right next to your ear that you fall for each time. Like a forbidden lullaby that lulls you to sleep, to enter a world of dreams that will never be reality.

It was far past noon as the stars twinkled in the sky, a pretty canvas hidden behind your thick, heavy curtains hanging by your bedroom window. You were in the confinement of your bed, sheets wrinkled and your blanket resting just under you shoulder, both hands being placed on the side you faced. You had just ended a typical late shift which slowly began to mess with your sleeping schedule, sleep deprivation knocking restlessly at your door every night. It was the main reason why you were up, a warm glass of milk proving to be useless at your awake.

Before you could even try to enter the world of slumber, you hear the sliding of your bedroom window accompanied by a loud thud as well as faint sounds of labored breathing. You paided no mind to it at first, assuming it was one of the many sleep paralysis demons that came to stir up your thoughts and fears once in a while. But that thought was somehow thrown out the window as the strong sent of blood filled your nostrils.

Your eyes shoot open as you jolted out of the blankets. Mentally cursing yourself for not making sure your window was locked before your went to bed. You stand upright as you try to follow the scent, those pants from earlier getting louder yet softer as you walked cautiously. The closer you got, the more your eyebrows seemed to furrow in disgust but what you saw after was something you could never prepare for.

"...Kaneki?"

Your eyes take note of white hair and a black mask with human like teeth adorned on it. The said man laid on his back, arms draped over his eyes and stomach as small puddle of blood formed near his torso, light from the open window emitting a gentle glow. He lowers his arm, titling his head to look up at you who was still standing on two feet. His eyes look hazy and extremely clouded, as if he was trying his best to stay conscious.

"...Y/N? Ha, Amusing. I came here purely on muscle memory, Arg-!!"

He groans at his attempt to sit up, cause a large spike of pain through his system. He still succeeded, one knee propped up as the other laid flat, an arm dangling from one knee and the other keepinghim upright. He looks down at his lap as you still stand there frozen, all the words you wish to say suddenly stuck in your throat.

"Why are you here."

You ask firmly, all this earns is a soft chuckle from his end.

"It's cute when you try to sound angry, Y/N."

"I'm serious. And why are you bleeding-"

He finally looks up at you as he senses very sutle hints of worry in your tone, he almost sighs in relief at the discovery.

"I was being chased down. They managed to pierce right through my torso but I managed to kill him and flee in time, before his subordinates could come and find me."

"So you so you chose to seek refuge in my home?"

"Subconsciously, yes."

You clench your fist as an attempt to hide your rising anger, venom coursing through your veins as all you could do was sigh.

"How unfortunate that you survived, it would of lifted a burden from my shoulders if you did."

He stays silent, very much aware of the rocky relationship you two had. Former lovers that split due to him being a live bounty, aching to be knocked off many people's hit list. He was a ghoul, a high ranked one in fact. He kills to survive and all the horrible little details in between. He originally left to protect you, from him and the many other disastrous consequences that followed. But like they say, old habits die hard.

He couldn't stay away from you for to long, his body ached just to get some sort of contact with you, your body on his, sexually or not. He loved you dearly, but he knew you wouldn't believe him, not after how selfish he has been lately and he dreads it so so much.

You noticed he spaced out for a bit which made you feel the faintest bit of guilt. You would be lying if you said you resented him entirely, Mostly would be a better word to describe the feeling. You let out a heavy sigh as you distance yourself from him, walking into your bathroom to fetch the mini first aid kit to hopefully stop his wound from staining your wooden floors. As you re-enter your bedroom you noticed that he hasn't moved an inch, the slow rising and falling of his chest acting as the only indicator that he was still alive. Your eyes dot to the puddle causing your face to drop slightly.

'Isn't he able to heal instantly? How bad of a fight did he get himself into...'

The wrapping of bandages slowly turned to the lingering of touches. Your thumb was gliding over is bloodied, bottom lip. Palm resting on his check as he instinctively nuzzled closer to the source of warmth, tears cascading down his cheek. Because of where his wound was, he had to take his shirt off which was currently equivalent to a bloodied rug. One of your knees were placed between his legs as the other was on his side. He was crying for a bit, nothing but murmured apologizes and words of your name falling off his lips.

Occasional sniffles coming from his end as you just stared back with nothing but an impassive expression, but behind your facade you were just as vulnerable. You heart swelled as you saw nothing but sincerity in his words.

"I love yo- hiccup, more than anything."

"..."

"Please."

You somehow felt guilty now, all he's pleas started to make you rather hot and bothered. You bite you lip as you trail your bloodied thumb down to his chin, your breath hitching as your thoughts seem to get darker and darker, lustful even.

"Show me."

You manage to say with a very soft voice, barely louder than whisper. He's eyes focus on yours, brain torn in two to try and interpret your words, to make sure he got the right hidden message.

As if to encourage him, you straddle his legs properly, slow with your movements just to test the waters. As if mimicking your movements, he slowly places his his hands on your waist, squeezing the soft flesh with his eyes heavily focused on you and your reactions. You shudder at this and sink down on his clothed crotch, palm of your hands now placed on both sides of his neck. You move your hips in a circle which erupts a soft groan from him that made your head spin, his hold now moving to your hips to assist with your ideas.

"Mmm just like that, love."

The vulnerable state Kaneki was in was long gone, his mind clouded with nothing but the warmth of you engulfing him whole. You were riding him, actually he was making you ride him as he moved your hips for you, suckling your neck and nipples while leaving open mouthed kisses that made you shudder. He was happy you were still as tight as he remembered, assuring him that you haven't been entertaining anyone else during his absence. I mean he wouldn't blame you if you did, you were no longer his to claim but the thought just made his blood boil.

The lewd sounds of body exchanged was all that filled the air other than your pretty moans of his name, telling him how good he felt inside you. You mouth was agape as tears hung on your eyelashes, mind almost going blank as his pace increased. Hickeys covered your thighs and neck as you managed to leave a few on his neck as well. Bloody kisses could be seen on your perky nipples and lips, the metallic taste foreign to your taste buds but you couldn't help but to lick your lips.

He stares at you with lust and adoration as you whined after each thrust, like you always did when you took him. He let's out an airy chuckle as you begin to push him towards your chest.

"Somethings never change, huh."

@feizon

[blouisparadise]

Upon request, today we have the second part to our heat fic rec list! You can also check out the first part to this rec list here and you can expect another one at some point in the near future. If you enjoy our rec lists, please be sure to like and reblog this post to help spread the word. Happy reading!

1) Bank Holiday Weekend | Mature | 4,135 words

Louis Tomlinson is a twenty-two year old omega who doesn’t give a shit. The omega knows his heat is coming up but still decides to attend Reading and Leeds Festival with his nineteen year old alpha co-worker Harry Styles.

2) The Prints Of Your Hands Are Still On My Canvas | Not Rated | 4,563 words

Harry and Louis broke up not long ago. Everything was fine until then, problems started with Louis’ heat just around the corner, an important presentation that he could not miss, and a very visible (or more like invisible) alpha that could help him go through his heat. And then Harry shows up. (Again.)

3) Haze On The Horizon | Explicit | 6,397 words

“— Louis?” He couldn’t speak. He should hang up. He should’ve never called. His breaths were building into a staccato. “…baby? Are you doing alright? Talk to me, please.” Harry sounded so concerned, and it was quickly weakening his defences. No. No, he wouldn’t. No- “Omega,” Harry called, voice low and just shy of his alpha voice, even through the phone, and Louis just… Louis broke. “I miss you! I-” he cried out, an agonising crack in his voice, a loud sob being ripped from him. “— I need you!” Louis sniffled harshly, slumping, before admitting, quieter, “I need you.” Louis finds himself unexpectedly going into soft heat. Which would’ve been fine, except he is hundreds of miles away from his alpha, Harry, and he needs him. They make it work.

4) The Box | Explicit | 8,895 words

When the signal comes, Harry dips and slides into the box, settling himself on his back with his knees bent.  Louis lifts the side of the box to close it, and as he does so Harry goes to pull his jacket from behind his back a little. The last sight that Louis is presented with before Harry is gone from view is the most gorgeous man he’s ever seen arching his back, with his head thrown upwards, mouth slightly open. And fuck. 

5) Teacups For The Wine | Not Rated | 9,111 words

Harry's possibly the most handsome and kind alpha Louis' ever met but the problem is that he cannot take a goddamned hint.

6) Part Time Soulmates (Full Time Problem) | Mature | 12,072 words

Sworn enemies Harry and Louis are soulmates. Everything is going smoothly until the pain hits.

7) To Have Touched the Sun | Explicit | 12,491 words

Note: This fic is locked and can only be read by AO3 users.

Louis has been taking suppressants ever since he first presented as an omega, and because of that, he has his heats dwindled down to just once a year. When he suddenly goes into heat in the middle of a supermarket only two months after just having one, he immediately knows something is wrong. It takes the act of a very kind stranger in that supermarket to change Louis' life forever.

8) Like A Hurt, Lost, And Blinded Fool | Not Rated | 13,919 words

ABO college AU where alpha Harry is a frat boy and he asks omega Louis out multiple times but he rejects him every time because Louis doesn’t like how frat boys act towards omegas. One night at a Halloween party, Harry dresses up as a stormtrooper and keeps his mask on all the time and flirts with Louis and Louis flirts back without knowing that’s Harry under the costume.

9) Good Panic | Explicit | 14,517 words

Louis is an Omega student studying botany at uni. He suffers from a disease trigger by the SFG (Soulmate Finder Gene). This is a disease that makes his scent strong, and alluring to all Alphas, but makes everyone, Alphas and Omegas alike, smell absolutely rancid. Everyone except for his Soulmate. For three years he has used scent soothers, and neutralizers to keep himself safe. Even though the majority of the population deems him ungrateful of such a “blessing”. Who wouldn’t want to find their Soulmate. Right? No matter what the cost.

10) We Chase The Stars To Lose Our Shadow | Explicit | 15,962 words

“I think it may be time for you to try something… different.” Louis fidgets on his sofa, nervous. “What - what do you have in mind? A new medication?” He is less than enthused about being forced onto another medication. He has already tried most of them, to no avail, and the cocktail of prescriptions he is currently taking has been very expensive, even after using his drug benefit copay for each refill. “Sort of…. Louis, have you heard of Prescription Pillows?”

11) Butterflies, The Beautiful Kind | Explicit | 18,401 words

Prompt 36: Louis is a single parent with a child who is terrified of doctors. However, one day, the kid gets sick. Thankfully the new pediatrician, doctor Styles, has wild curly hair and green eyes, and a soothing deep voice that the kid immediately grows attached to.

12) Apparently By Chance, At Precisely The Right Moment | Explicit | 19,329 words

Alpha Harry doesn’t believe in soulmates. Omega Louis has been looking for his soulmate all his life.

13) This Love Is Ours | Mature | 21,028 words

“I told you to call me Harry.” Harry looks amused. It’s not funny. Louis throwing up because of him isn’t funny. “But I’ve been calling you Mr. Styles for so long.” “And now you’re carrying my baby.”

14) Manners And Misjudgements | Explicit | 21,178 words

“Everyone you mention the Duke to raves about him, just like you are defending him now. But no one looks behind the façade he so ably maintains to deceive you all.” Liam sighs deeply. “You sound like a crazy man right now, Louis.” “I will prove to you who the Duke really is, just wait.”

15) Alone Together | Explicit | 28,320 words

Alpha Harry moves to Oslo, Norway and is perfectly content being mostly alone in a strange foreign land where he barely speaks the language, until a certain skittish blue-eyed boy seeks refuge in his video rental store. Almost immediately, Harry feels connected and protective over him. So what choice does he have when the boy drops other than to take him home and nurse him back to health?

16) Perfect | Explicit | 28,856 words

Between the usual stressors of school, losing his mum, and being partly responsible for six underage kids, Louis didn’t need anything else in his life to go wrong. Yet here he was getting the worst news of his life: he was an omega.

17) I Don’t Want You | Mature | 35,941 words

Louis never wanted to be an omega. He didn’t want to end up like his mother- a submissive omega that married his father in an arranged marriage, and is now living her life as a baby making machine, and a trophy wife who can never voice her opinion- Louis was never the quiet type, he always said exactly what he thought. But life has a funny way of fucking him over and Louis finds himself forced into an arranged marriage with the one and only Harry styles.

18) Truebonds | Explicit | 39,687 words

Louis doesn’t mind being an omega, most of the time. Modern medicine allows him to suppress almost all of his omega traits, but the one thing it can’t suppress is his scenting cycle. Fortunately, that only needs to be dealt with every seven years and he counts himself lucky that he can afford the services of a reputable agency. With his cycle due, he reviews the matched candidates and there’s one alpha who fits all of his criteria, S28A. That’s pretty much where things start to unravel. Enter Harry Styles, scenter for hire.

19) Some Records Turnin’ | Explicit | 49,330 words

Note: This fic is locked and can only be read by AO3 users.

Harry is a soft alpha who owns a record store and Louis is a closeted singer omega masquerading as an alpha who randomly stumbles into Harry’s store.

20) All The Small Things You Do (Remind Me Why I Fell For You) | Not Rated | 53,685 words

Prompt 68: Pack alpha Harry only wants to marry for matrimonial benefits but no other omega wishes to marry him for his reputation of being a big scary wolf who snarls at everyone for even breathing the wrong way. Omega Louis, to improve his pack’s condition, decides to be Harry’s pack Luna but is taken aback by how soft and sweet Harry actually is with him. AU where Harry is intimidating pack alpha but is very sweet and lovely with his soon-to-be mate and would do anything for his pack Luna, even make fool of himself in front of everyone just to see his giggle.

21) Love Me If You Dare | Explicit | 54,721 words

Harry and Louis’ friendship starts with a game, after a simple dare. The two little boys quickly become the best of friends and referees of their own game. Unfortunately, as they grow up, they sometimes become the victims of it too. With them, everything is possible. They are capable of daring each other to do anything. But will they dare confess their feelings for each other?

22) Let Your Damage, Damage Me | Explicit | 57,077 words

A low and dangerous growl was ripped from the future King’s chest. “Who the fuck do you think you are?” the alpha snarled, eyes dark and nostrils flared. Even as anger rushed through him at the alpha’s brutish display, Louis felt breathless at the intense gaze of the man that was going to be his future mate. ‘Tomorrow I’m going to be under all that. He will be inside me, all muscles and rage.’ Louis felt his cheeks heat again, but refused to be cowed. So he put his best smirk on display, the one alphas despised to see, the one that assured them all he had the upper hand. “Thought you were expecting me, dear husband. I’m your future mate.”

23) The Cottage | Explicit | 70,600

Louis hates alphas and he has good reason to, but when his beloved omega grandmother dies, and he inherits her cottage, he meets Harry, an alpha hazelnut farmer who sneaks his way into Louis’ life. While Louis struggles with his severe touch deprivation, he forms a friendship with Harry that turns out to be exactly what he needed.

24) As Sweet As You Are | Mature | 87,394 words

“Do you not have something more expensive?” The alpha gives him a weird look, resting his hands on the table. “Definitely not something the cost of that shade of blue that are your eyes,” he responds effortlessly. “Why is a male omega on his own out in the middle of the woods at this time of night?” Harry speaks, staring intensely at the prince, smirk lingering on his face. “Your kind is rather rare. You should be more careful. There are a lot of rogue alphas around that won’t blink until they’ve knotted and bred you up.” The blue eyed omega swallows, shuffling in his seat awkwardly and looking anywhere but the alpha before him. “I ran away from home,” Louis admits, occupying himself by taking a sip of the lager instead of thinking about the fact that the alpha hasn’t yet taken his eyes off him. “My parents want me to marry someone I do not want to marry, so I ran.”

25) Wind Beneath My Wings | Explicit | 93,131 words

“You shouldn’t be here,” Harry gritted out, wild-eyed. “You should be scared of me.” Louis opened his mouth to speak, to cut him off, to disagree, but Harry was pushing. “I could hurt you.” “You won’t hurt me,” Louis said, simple and assuredly. Calm. “I’m capable of hurting you.” “But you won’t. That’s not who you are, Harry. I trust you,” Louis whispered. As an omega carer that works at a rescue and rehabilitation centre for feral alphas and omegas, Louis has experienced all sides of ferality. So Harry- a cold, near mute, non-receptive alpha- was a challenging case for everyone at Phoenix Rehab Centre. Louis wasn’t expecting to feel drawn towards an aloof Harry, or to form a slow bond with him. He certainly was not expecting for his entire life to change in unforeseen ways.

26) Siren Calls Me Home | Explicit | 133,762 words

Harry and Louis’ kingdoms have rivaled one another for ages. When the time comes for Prince Louis to choose a mate, Harry’s father puts him in the running for his hand. But Harry has no intentions of marrying the omega. He is only using the opportunity to investigate and expose Louis’ sordid past, where rumors of fornication and murder abound, and bring justice down on his rival once and for all.

27) Your Eyes Are Tired But Keep Them Open Cause You Wouldn’t Wanna Miss A Thing | Explicit | 144,281 words

Louis is an omega in an abusive relationship everyone forced him into; he’s miserable until he meets his favorite student’s uncle, Harry, a gentle alpha with a big heart.

28) Sewn Into You | Explicit | 167,485 words

Harry Styles thinks soulmates are a fairytale, or in other words-a lie. He has no interest in entertaining anything that has anything to do with the very name that had been etched along his collarbone since his eighteenth birthday. Louis Tomlinson won’t be answering to another alpha for the rest of his life if he can help it. Fuck happy endings, his soul mate can choke on it. Problem is, Harry needs a personal assistant to save his family’s business, Louis needs the cash to officially move off of his childhood best-friend’s couch. They can manage. Surely, nothing will go wrong.

Check out our other fic rec lists by category here and by title here.

[darl-ingfics]

Positive Energy Providers

Fandom: Seventeen

Sickie: S.Coups (stomach bug, mentioned)

Caregiver(s): Seventeen

Word Count: 1,586

Notes: Happy New Year!

Seungcheol was pulled out of a light sleep by the sound of footsteps in the hall outside his closed door. Oh good. His members were home. Finally. 

The leader had been hit with a stomach bug the previous day. The whole thing had been rather anticlimactic. He’d really only thrown up three times, dealing more so with unrelenting nausea and a mid-range fever. He’d hardly slept all night, tossing and turning as his body couldn’t decide if it was hot or cold. He’d finally been able to fall asleep just after his members left for their schedules, and he’d been able to eat some plain rice around 2pm, which had allowed him to actually take medicine. The fever had broken soon after, and even though his body still felt icky and unsettled, there was a glimmer of hope now. 

As he reveled in the sound of activity (singing and laughter and the thump of shoes being discarded,) Seungcheol was surprised to hear his door already sliding open. 

“Hyung!” Mingyu beamed, swinging in with the door like the lead in an old-time musical. “How’re you feeling?”

Seungcheol smiled, pushing himself up to better address his friend. “Much better, thanks.”

Mingyu let out a breath, as if he’d feared the worst. “That’s great news. Anything in particular you want for dinner?”

“You’re not cooking after such a long day, are you?” Seungcheol asked. He paused to wave at Jun, who was quietly waving at him from his tiptoes behind Mingyu’s head. 

Mingyu shrugged. “Depends on what you say.”

Seungcheol frowned. “Mingyu, I know you too well for that. Please don’t waste your time cooking for me when I’m only going to eat a few bites.”

“It’s never wasted time cooking for you, hyung,” Mingyu scoffed, rolling his eyes at the older man’s dramatics. “I love making food for you.”

“I know, but I feel bad…” Seungcheol dropped his head back further, really emphasizing his point. “Making you work extra…”

“You’re a silly, silly man, you know that?” Mingyu teased. 

“What’re you two fighting about?” Joshua asked, squeezing past Mingyu into the room. He glided to the bed with a soft smile, immediately pressing his hand to Seungcheol’s forehead, humming happily at what he found. 

“Hyung doesn’t want me to cook for him,” Mingyu replied. 

Seungcheol looked up at Joshua with his best puppy dog eyes. “No, I don’t want him to prioritize cooking for me over resting himself after a long day.” 

Joshua nodded, lips quirked to the side in consideration. “Here, how about this. I’ll make it easy for both of you. You want plain or chicken congee?”

“Chicken, please.” 

“You got it.” Mingyu snapped his fingers, pointing them energetically at the leader before he disappeared down the hall. Joshua laughed softly before gently kissing Seungcheol’s forehead and following after the younger rapper. 

Soonyoung breezed in shortly after, walking right up to the bed and flopping onto his back. He gave a big sigh, his enter body contacting with the force of the exhale. 

“Everything okay?”

The performance leader turned to look at Seungcheol with a resigned expression. “This might be it, Cheol. I think this is the comeback my feet just detach from my body.” Seungcheol gave a laugh at that. Soonyoung’s eyes narrowed. “Don’t you mock my pain.”

Seungcheol scoffed. “You’re the one who choreographed most of this one, so I don’t know what you want me to do about it.”

Soonyoung pouted at him. “I want you to let me whine cause I’m not allowed to whine to anyone else.” 

“Why not?”

“Cause then they say I’m the performance leader so I got no right to whine.”

“Well…”

“Don’t say they’re right.”

“I really don’t know what you want from me here, Hosh…”

“Neither do I!”

Seungcheol laughed again, shaking his head. “Well, I can’t wait to see it. I’m sure it’s incredible if it’s inspiring your feet to go off and start their solo career.” 

“Their solo career,” Soonyoung mumbled to himself. He chuckled, pushing himself up to a seated position. He met the leader’s eyes. “How’re you?” His hand reached out to pat Seungcheol’s foot beneath the blanket. 

“Much better.” Seungcheol nodded. “I finally kept some food down a few hours ago, so the medicine has been able to work. I can hopefully come back at 50% tomorrow.”

Soonyoung snapped at him warningly. “Don’t jinx it. And even then, I’ll maybe consider letting you do 25%.”

“Deal.” Seungcheol held out his hand. Soonyoung shook it with a theatrically serious frown. A smile broke on his lips a moment later. 

“So glad you’re feeling better.” 

“Me too.” 

Soonyoung patted Seungcheol’s cheek, and then scurried off and out the door. Without a moment of pause, Seokmin slid into the doorway, beaming just as brightly as Mingyu had been just moments before. 

“Hyung guess what? I hit that high note today!” The vocalist’s face was a mix of amazement and disbelief. 

“Wow, Minnie, I’m so proud of you,” Seungcheol praised, a proud smile rising on his own lips. “I know that one was a challenge for you, but Jihoon and I knew you could do it.”

Seokmin nodded shyly, blushing slightly at the praise. “Thanks. It feels good to be challenged. I appreciate your faith in me.”

“Always.” 

Jihoon’s head peeked in front of Seokmin’s. “Did you tell you about the high note?!” The producer was holding his phone, clearly ready with video evidence. Seungcheol nodded as he beckoned both of them into the room. He pulled his knees up to his chest to make room on the bed. Jihoon quickly sat down across from him, while Seokmin slid up next to Seungcheol, head resting on his shoulder as Jihoon pressed play on his phone. 

The shot was of Seokmin in the dance practice room, and started with him asking Jihoon if he could try singing the note one last time in here because maybe the acoustics would inspire him. Jihoon sighed and said he wasn’t Seokmin’s master, and the vocalist could do whatever he wanted. So Seokmin hit the note perfectly. And the room erupted in cheers. 

“Oh my god,” the leader breathed, rewinding the video and listening to the phrase again. His mouth hung open. “Minnie, that’s fucking incredible.” The vocalist hid his blushing face in his hands, attempted to bury himself deeper into the leader’s shoulder. 

“Told you you could do it,” Jihoon said, lightly kicking Seokmin’s feet. 

“People are going to lose their minds when this releases,” Seungcheol added, rubbing Seokmin’s back. “I’m so proud of you.” 

Seokmin finally pulled back from hiding, planting a kiss on Seungcheol’s temple. “Thank you for believing in me.” He moved and grasped Jihoon before he could run away, kissing his cheek with an overdramatic smack of his lips. “Thank you for helping me grow.” 

While wiping at his cheek a little too harshly, Jihoon replied, “You’re welcome, but please don’t kiss me again.” 

Seokmin immediately lunged for the producer again, lips pursed. Jihoon cried out in protest, leaping off the bed and sprinting out of the room, Seokmin hot on his heels. Seunghceol laughed, shaking his head. 

Minghao appeared a second later. He jerked a thumb back towards the rest of the dorm. “Those two weren’t too rowdy in here, were they?”

Seungcheol shrugged. “Nah, they were actually quite gentle.” 

“Good.” The dancer nodded, eyes scanning the room. Seungcheol wasn’t sure what he was looking for. 

“How was rehearsal?”

Minghao nodded again. “Good. Really good, actually, considering Jeonghan was in charge. He isn’t always as good as staying on task as you are…”

“Hey, I heard that!” Jeonghan’s voice spilled into the room before the man himself, appearing with a scowl and arms crossed over his chest. “And I will have you know I can be a very good vice leader in appropriate circumstances.”

“Even that sounds like fancy loophole,” Minghao scoffed. “What constitutes ‘appropriate circumstances?’” Seungcheol resisted the urge to laugh at the dancer use of air quotes, and the little twitch they caused in Jeonghan’s left eye. 

“That’s a conversation for another day and not in front of our leader who needs space and positive energy in his time of convalescence,” Jeonghan replied, spreading his hands out to mime what ‘positive energy’ might look like. 

Minghao raised an eyebrow. “You know, you tend to speak extra formally when you’re trying to escape conversations. Also, it’s not like hyung’s getting any space tonight. This group’s a bunch of stage five clingers.”

Wonwoo chose that exact moment to saunter into the room, proving Minghao’s point. He said nothing as he collapsed onto the bed next to Seuncheol, his head colliding with the leader’s thigh. Seungcheol had just barely touched his fingers to the rapper’s hair before Wonwoo was pushing himself up from the bed. He tapped the leader’s shoulder affectionately before turning to go. Seungcheol was just able to tap his butt before he was completely out of range. Both rappers failed miserably at trying to hide their smiles as Wonwoo disappeared from the room. 

Jeonghan recrossed his arms. “I shall continue to use my tricky, clever word play, and there is nothing you can do about it!” He turned abruptly and walked out of the room. Minghao snorted out a laugh, simply shaking his head. 

“Hope that’s at least provided you some entertainment,” he said, turning back to the leader. 

“Oh, I can guarantee the ‘positive energy’ you’ve provided is doing wonders,” Seungcheol replied, smiling from the bottom of his heart.

[13a07s]

As You Wish #1

(Wakatoshi Ushijima Smut)

[Artwork is not mine! Credit to ari]

Requested by: Not Jesus

Word Count: 5,089

Warnings and/or Pre-Notes:

Nick Names: Baby, Darling, Good Boy

Mentions of Drug Abuse

Slight Size Kink

Ushi being a Hip Dip King

Mutual Masturbation

Hickeys

Degrading/Praising

Subby Ushi

Titty Fondling

Techniqual Titty Shot (?)

Part Two Coming

———————————————————————

Ding.

The soft sound and the vibration of my phone on my leg pull my eyes away from the movie playing on the flat screen. The yellow Snapchat icon stands out against the image of my siblings, my nephew, and me. My eyes flicker up for a moment, checking the time. Ten twenty-one. Maybe Iwaizumi finally sent his streaks.

Once my phone is unlocked, it's proven to me that my brother's best friend isn't the one to snap me. "You know," Tooru starts, warming up the tantrum he's about to throw. "I'm watching this chick flick because you asked me to."

"You're watching the movie to have sallow heart-to-hearts with your fan girls over it," I grumble, hovering for a moment before clicking open the snap-text.

Waka| Are you currently awake?

I roll my eyes at the guy's properness. Would it kill him to try getting into text culture? Probably.

Me| Ya

I can't even click out of the chat before he texts back.

Waka| Will you still be awake in sixty

| minutes?

Me| That's a specific time limit

Waka| I need time to get home and shower.

Me| It's late, traffic won't be bad

Me| Where are you this late anyway?

His bitmoji pops up a few times as he carefully crafts his text. Whatever he was writing gets thrown out and replaced by a picture being sent instead. I shrink further into the couch, turning away from my brother before opening Wakatoshi's snap.

I swear I can feel my pupils widen as I happily drink in his photo. He's sat straight on a bench, his legs on either side of it and clenched tight like he's trying to choke the seat out with his thighs. Wakatoshi's shirt is off, showing off the physique he works so hard to maintain. His right arm is shown off too, stretched out as he runs a towel through his soaked hair. My mouth waters with the want to lick the sweat off every one of his perfectly maintained muscles.

His face is as set in boredom as the words typed across the picture.

Waka| I'm at the gym. Can I come over

               | after I shower?

Me| Come over and do what?

Waka| Preferably I would like to have sex,

              | but if you don't wish for that I                

| would be happy just sleeping too.

Me| You do know sleepovers don't fall

          | under the Sneaky Link agreement

| right?

     Waka| I thought we were Friends With

              | Benefits. A good night of sleep is

              | the greatest benefit in life.

     Me| We're not friends

     Me| You have sixty before I lock the door

     Waka| I have a key.

     When I finally look up from my phone, Tooru's eyes are bearing into me, a cocky smile on his face. "Who sent you a 'you up?' text?"

     "It wasn't a 'you up' text," I murmur, making sure to face my phone down in my lap. My brother hates Ushijima. Literally loathes the man. The only person he hates more is some kid named Kageyama. When the two of them landed at the same college, I was convinced Tooru was going to forgo his top-pick college for second-best just because of the guy.

     "So, if I told you my plans at eleven fell through, you wouldn't be mad?" He baits, carefully watching for my reaction.

     "Nope."

     "I should probably head home."

     "Ya, probably."

     Luckily for the two of us, our mother agreed to pay for off-campus housing as long as we managed to get at least one scholarship. So, we both have small off-campus apartments about three blocks from campus. Also lucky for us, Mom agreed to rent out an apartment for each of us instead of sticking us into the same renter. Tooru's place is only a floor up from mine. Close enough to be comfortable but far enough away that we can live our lives separately.

     "I can't believe you're letting a dude named Waka pipe you," Toru pokes, standing up from the couch to stretch out his limps.

     My cheeks warm for a second, replaying the conversation between Ushijima and me. My brother couldn't have seen anything too bad, seeing how I turned before opening the photo and talking about sex. However, the thought of Tooru finding out who exactly Waka is scares me and brings more embarrassment than the thought of him reading my texts. "Says the guy that hooked up with a known coke user last night," I finally manage to stab back.

     "Touché."

                     ———————————

     I wait a few moments after the knock to open the door, not wanting to seem too eager for Wakatoshi's arrival. It's not like it'll make a difference since I never know what he's thinking, especially about me.

My breath hicks when I get the door open. There he stands, looking down his nose at me, as intense and as bored as ever. My hormones instantly jerk, sending sparks through my veins at the sight of his sweatpants and a loose graphic tee. It has to be illegal or at least immoral for a man to look like Wakatoshi. "Hi," I greet, slowly tugging my eyes back up to meet his.

"Hello." Father Winter slides his nails down my spine at the sound of his voice. Deep, rich, always so certain. "There are two plates on the table," Wakatoshi points out, his eyes wandering around the house as his hands focus on clinging to the strap of his bag.

"My brother was over. We had dinner and watched a movie."

"Is he still over?" The question is light, almost cautious as it's asked.

"He left earlier."

Wakatoshi hums, the sound just as deep as his voice and just as quick to tease the lust brewing between my legs. "I'm spending the night."

"Are you asking or telling me?"

His eyes jump back to me, abruptly ending their trail. "I'm telling you."

"Okay," I murmur, widening the door so he can make his way in. He breezes past me, sliding his arm between my stomach and the door. My breath hicks again from the small touch, getting me a quick glance from Wakatoshi before he closes the door. The soft clicks of the locks don't help me any.

A million scenarios race through my head as he turns around and looks down at me again, head tipped and eyes sharp. Sharp enough to slice straight into my core. "Are we having sex tonight or just sleeping?"

"We're having sex," I mutter, trying my best not to let my eyes trail down to his sweatpants again. I swear the imprint of his dick is as set in my head as it is in his pants. This man is going to be the death of me.

"Alright." Wakatoshi moves forward, his hands sliding under my arms to pick me off my feet. "Is this alright?" He asks, settling me on his waist. "I saw it in a movie Tendo took me too. The woman seemed to enjoy it. Are you enjoying it?"

"Ah... ya," I answer, wrapping my legs around his sides before settling my arms around his neck. He nods in understanding, his hands slow and uncertain as they slide down to hold my hips, his thumbs pressed into the dips marking the center of my hips. No matter how many times we hook up, I don't think he'll ever get completely comfortable touching me.

"I had a bad day," Wakatoshi tells me, his steps slow and steady as he makes our way through the house.

"I'm sorry," I breathe out, nudging his jawline with my nose. He gives in, tipping his head to the side so I can start brushing kisses against his throat. They start out light, little butterfly kisses against the warmth of his skin, letting my senses drown in his scent. Cinder and a hint of leather, the same scent that coats the interior of his car and his dorm room.

     By the time my bedroom door is creaking open, my mouth is sucking on the delicateness of his neck with my teeth gently teasing his skin. Despite my eagerness to litter him in hickeys, I know how much shit he'd get and how upset Wakatoshi would be about it.

     Before I can pull myself off of him, I'm let go and dropped from his arms. Fear of slamming into the ground flickers through me, chased away by the softness of my bed enveloping my fall. "What the hell?!" I yelp, adjusting my placement on the mattress.

Wakatoshi blinks at me for a moment before going back to unslinging his bag from his shoulder and resting it on my dresser. "There is no need to shout. If you wish to be picked up again, simply ask. I don't mind."

"You can't just drop me like that! What the hell gave you that bright idea?"

Again, he stops moving, slowly blinking as he stares at me. "I could not have taken my bag off while holding you. I assumed your bed would be the most comfortable place to rest as I settled in. Why are you still yelling?"

My anger settles down at his explanation, finding reasoning in it. "Next time let me know you're going to drop me. Don't just do it."

"As you wish," he murmurs, turning away from me to dig through his bag. I let myself relax, my back pressed against the headboard, my legs stretched out on top of my sheets, and my head hanging to press against the wood I'm using to support myself. "Take your clothes off," Wakatoshi softly orders, his hands already busy pulling his shirt over his head.

     I think over his request for a moment, toying with the hem of my pajama shirt. "Or you could take my clothes off."

     "Alright," he agrees, carefully folding his shirt before placing it on his back. Little things like that are what had me convinced he was a robot the first time we met.

     Once his t-shirt is squared away, Wakatoshi makes his way over to the bed, the mattress dipping under his wake as he sits on the edge of it. His hands find their way to my hips, his thumbs finding their way to my hip dips like they always do. It pushes into the spots harder for a second, his eyes glued to his fingers, before sliding them across again, this time toying with the end of my shirt.

     "What are they called?" He softly asks, letting the silk material slip over his fingers. Wakatoshi's fingertips move gently but the calluses on them rub roughly against my skin.

     "What is what called?" I murmur, letting my eyes flutter closed. I soak in the feeling of his hands, drowning in the comparison between the feel of them and the gentle actions they gift me. They inch their path, almost teasingly pushing my shirt further and further up.

     "The spot that I squeezed. What is it called? I was trying to talk to Tendo about it but he couldn't understand what I was saying."

     "Hip dips," I answer, the words coming out airy because of my lungs' lack of job fulfillment. The feeling of his fingers against my sides, his hands big enough to tease my breasts as they slide path, being responsible for the oxygen boycott.

     "I enjoy your hip dips. They're pleasuring," he tells me, his hands staying light as he pulls my shirt over my head, careful not to pull my hair or catch the material on my earrings.

     Wakatoshi's eyes bounce across my bareness, leaving a trail of warmth over every inch they cross. His fingertips slide down, trailing between my breasts before settling on the hickey left in the middle of where my underwire rests. Without a bra on, the full size of the bruise is left exposed. "I would like to leave more," he whispers, the words seeming more for himself to hear than me.

     As he keeps busy tracing the yellowing bruise, I let my eyes outline every muscle of his torso. They're still sexy, but not as hot as they are covered in sweat. Wakatoshi always looks best drenched in sweat after the gym or one of our hookups. "Are you going to stare at me the whole time?" I ask, drawing figure eights against his pec. "Or are you going to do something? If you just want to stare, take a picture and leave so I can handle stuff myself."

"I would like to see that."

"See what?"

"You touch yourself." Embarrassment quickly drowns out my lust, making my fingertips freeze against his chest and my eyes lock on his Adam's Apple. "I have been doing research about sexual scenarios recently."

"Like actual research or asking Tendo questions?"

"Both," he answers, his fingertips finally sliding off the leftover hickey from last week. They change focus to my breast, twirling around my nipple as his other hand slides its way to my thigh, his thumb buried in the hip dip he likes so much. "I worry our routine has left you unsatisfied. Women with inadequate fathers such as yourself tend to be more creative in the bedroom than we have been."

"You just told me I had daddy issues."

"No," Wakatoshi slowly says, pinching my nipple between his finger and thumb as his other hand grips my hip tighter. "I said women with inadequate fathers tend to be more sexually creative. Tendo recommended I stop being so gentle with you and see how you react. He also recommended some activities to try together, such as mutual masturbation."

"Ushi, Baby," I call, tapping his chin so he'll look up from my boobs. He gives me what I want, his eyes on mine as he pinches my nipple harder. It takes me a second to hush down my lust and to lock away the moan clawing at my throat. "Your friend is weird."

"I suppose," he murmurs, his eyes scanning my face for a reaction as he slowly twists my nipple. "But more times than not he is correct. If you do not wish to try mutual masturbation we can try something else. Or, perhaps you don't wish for me to handle you rougher."

"We can... try both," I stumble out around my hissy breaths, the attention to the same tit balancing on the thin line between pain and pleasure. "I just... uh... don't talk to... Tendo about... about our sex life."

"As you wish, as long as you stop referring to me by my last name. My teammates, people at school, people like your brother refer to me as Ushijima. You refer to me as Wakatoshi. Or perhaps Daddy. Is that something you wish to call me?" He asks, dropping his touch away from my boobs to cup both of my hips. "I've been told women with inadequate fathers also like referring to their sexual partners in such a way."

"No, I'm good," I answer, fluttering my eyes open. Wakatoshi's attention is back on my breasts, watching the way they rise and fall with every breath I take.

"Alright," he whispers, his fingers dipping under the waistband of my pajama bottoms and panties. His eyes swirl over the newly exposed skin as he pushes the clothing off of me, carefully folding them and placing them on my nightstand before turning his attention back to me. "We are going to masturbate now."

"Uh, okay." I stay still, watching Wakatoshi stand up from the bed and wander over to my desk. He takes hold of the chair waiting to be used, dragging it across the room before settling it next to the bed. He's never going to get used to touching me and I'm never going to get used to his matter-of-fact and straight-to-the-point habits of speech.

The bear of a man settles into the blue fluffy chair, looking a bit over-packed against it. "That won't do," he husks out, gripping my ankle before pulling me down the bed. I'm slid onto my back, my head on my pillows for a beat before his big hands are squeezing my hips again. I'm jerked around again, turned ninety degrees so I'm exposed toward the chair and my head threatens to dangle off the bed.

"Much better," Wakatoshi's voice sounds almost cheery as he leans over me, his nose trailing down my stomach. He hovers by my hip, quickly peaking the dip of it before jumping over to do the same to the other side. I guess he wasn't kidding when he said they were 'pleasuring' him. "Was that too rough? The way I moved you?"

"No, it was pretty hot."

"How so?" He asks, his hands leaving me. They're not gone for long, quickly returning to shimmy pillows behind me, effectively propping me up so I can look at him stuffed into my desk chair.

"I find it sexy how much bigger and stronger you are than me. It makes me horny when I man can and does treat me like a rag doll."

Wakatoshi stays silent, staring at me with his arm propped on the chair and his chin settled on his fist. "Alright, I'll keep that in mind," he mutters, finally unfrozen.

His hand shoves down his sweatpants and boxers, just enough for his half-hardened dick to breathe freely. "Begin touching yourself," he orders, wrapping his hand around his dick and slowly pumping it. Embarrassment coats my veins again, egged on by his intense stare. "Darling, please," he asks, lust already edged in his tone. "I feel ridiculous touching myself while you simply watch. Touch yourself as well."

I let my fingertips slide down my stomach, the self-given teasing touch dripping straight to my core. Wakatoshi's eyes widen just a smidge from the simple brush of my fingers, his hold on himself tightening as I finally get to my destination. "Thank you," he murmurs, his hand moving faster as I drawl circles against my clit.

When my hips start to tighten, getting ready to spring a thrust, I draw my fingers lower, teasing my entrance. Wakatoshi's soft huffs and intense focus on me slowly melt from embarrassment to fuel for my hormones. Seeing how focused he is and how eager his hand slides up and down his dick because of my 'self-care' is quite the ego stroke. This big, bad volleyball player fighting so hard to keep his composure.

A stringed moan parts from me as I tip two of my fingers inside my pussy, curling them against my vaginal walls. "Wakatoshi," I whine, slowly dragging my fingers out before thrusting them back in.

His eyes flicker as fast as his hand flicks, his fingers tightening at my call for him. "Darling, we should have sex now."

"No," I whisper, picking up the thrust of my fingers. "You wanted this, now you get to just watch."

His mouth quivers, words stuck on his tongue as his eyes jump between my face and watching my fingers disperse inside myself. "Darling," he carefully calls, chest pumping faster with his increased heart rate. "I wish to be inside you."

"Why?" I ask, my voice pitching and back arching with the rapid approach of my orgasm. "Are you worried I please myself better than you can?"

"Of... of course, not," he grunts, the tip of cock an angry red and his knuckles coated with the spurt of his pre-cum. "I just wish..." He's cut off by a groan, the sound deep and rattles straight to my pussy. "To be... in you."

His slight begging is the blade that snaps the rope holding back my orgasm. I spit out an embarrassing squeal, my pussy clenching around my fingers as cum drips down my thighs, landing on my bedding.

By the time I settle down, my back already aching from arching and slowly resting against the bed again, Wakatoshi looks ready to pop. His cheeks are dusted red, wrinkles decorating his forehead as his eyes focus on the mess of my thighs, and his hand moving fast enough that I'm a bit worried so going to give himself a rag burn. "Darling," he grumbles, the nickname coming out hissy.

"Waka-Chan," I coo, sliding my fingertips through my wet folds, drenching them with my slick cum. I let my fingers wander upward before settling on the dips of my hips, slowly trailing across them and coating my skin in the glistening of myself. He watches me for a beat before screwing his eyes shut.

A grumble, almost jagged rough enough to be a growl, lunges for Wakatoshi, his hand stalling as it gets coated in the saltiness of cum. Slowly, his face melts back to calmness, his dick still twitching and his hand still wrapped around himself. I let my hand slide back between my legs, circling my sensitive clit because of the scene in front of me. This is definitely hotter than his gym pick.

Wakatoshi takes a few moments, evening out his breathing and coming down from his high. After he settles, his eyes snap open and he finally lets go of his dick, full focus back on me toying with myself. "Can I do it too?"

"Do what, Baby?"

"Put my cum on your dips."

"Sure," I giggle, rolling my bottom lip between my teeth. I can't help the giddiness Wakatoshi's appreciation for my hip dips brings. It's such a small but cute thing for him to like.

He wastes no time, crawling onto the bed and on top of me, careful not to waste any of the sperm coating his hand. Once his thighs are secured on either side of me, squeezing me between them, his fingertips draw designs against my hip dips, our cum mixing together to leave a sticky and quickly cooling mixture on me.

I take the time to look over Wakatoshi, admiring his long lashes and the slow way he blinks them. Admiring the softness but determination in his muddy olive eyes. The smoothness of his skin tugged so tight over his muscles that it reminds me of cloth over stone.

"I want to have sex now," he asks, his eyes flickering up to peer at mine before falling back to his finger painting.

     "I want sex now too."

     He nods the agreement as sure as everything he does. Wakatoshi slowly leans down, quickly peaking my lips before climbing off of me. That's another weird thing he does, so open to having sex but so awkward about kissing me. He's gone for less than a minute, walking away long enough to dig through his bag before he's back by the bed.

     One of his hands fumbles with the rubber, tearing two of them apart, as the other dips into my pussy, feeling my wetness and teasingly poking at my opening. "Do you need more foreplay or do you believe you'll be alright?"

     "I'll be fine."

     He hums, pulling his touch away to focus on the condoms. One is placed on my nightstand, the gold wrapper standing out against my folded clothes, as the other one is carefully opened and rolled onto his cock. "Maybe I should kiss you again," he whispers, crawling his way on top of me.

     "I would like a kiss."

     Another hum as his hands take hold of my hips, flipping us so he's sat upright with me in his lap. His thumbs find their home, rubbing against my skin and smearing our cum even more. His eyes rapidly blink as he inches his lips closer to mine, uncertainty in his movements. I take the rain for him, closing the gap between us with a soft kiss, one that manages to pull a groan from Wakatoshi.

     "Thank you," he whispers when we pull apart, his nose tracing a path down my cheek and along my jaw before settling on my neck. He pulls me closer, the tip of his dick stumbling for a second before finding my pussy. "I am going to give you more bruises while we have sex, alright? You shall give me some in return, preferably on my shoulders."

     "As you wish," I tease, slowly lowering myself on his dick. My hands grip his biceps, my lips latching onto his shoulder. My pussy flutters around him, the flutter quickly melting into the pain of taking his girth, both measurements of his dick being a lot to take.

     My whimpers melt into the bruise I'm leaving on his shoulder, the sounds only getting louder the lower I sink. "Good job," Wakatoshi whispers against my skin when I finally manage to suck in every last inch of him. "Do you wish to move yourself or do you want me to move you?"

     I think about it for a moment, unlatching from the spot I was working on. My tongue rolls over the purple melted into his skin, deciding to make the next one darker. "You," I finally answer, shifting a few centimeters down his shoulder before starting my work all over again.

     Wakatoshi's hands tighten on my hips, slowly lifting me until just his tip is poked inside me. I suck in a deep breath, starting the exhale of it when he loosens his hold and lets gravity shove me back down. "Wakatoshi," I whimper, my nails digging into his skin.

     My plea is only acknowledged by a harder suck on my neck and the gentle slide of his teeth against my skin. His fingers tighten against me again, matching bruises on my neck sure to be there in the morning. Wakatoshi starts the pace off slow, inching me up before sliding back down. The pace doesn't stay like that for long, my hips quickly being slammed against his.

Aches settle into my bones because of the pace. Aches that he's never given me before. Wakatoshi wasn't kidding about being rough with me, but I couldn't love it any more than I do right now. My skin burns, notably more on the three little bruises he's left on my neck than anywhere else. The mix of pain and pleasure is intoxicating, making it hard to focus on placing hickeys on him in return.

Whines and whimpers spill from me like air, my legs tightening around his torso. "Darling," he husks in my ear, his lips attaching themselves and sucking right below it. I know what the call for me is, it's the mark of the being of his unraveling.

The room feels with a pop because of me dragging my mouth off of his shoulder. One of my hands slides up, cupping his cheek as I tilt my head to rest my nose against him. "Are you going to cum again, Waka-Chan?" I tease, letting my lips brush against his. "I thought you had more stamina than that."

His reaction is fried, mouth quivering like before as he rushes to piece together an answer, eyebrows pressed together in concentration, and pupils blown out in arousal. "I... I have stamina," he huffs out, his minty breath filling my senses. "You're... you are just... gripping me a lot more than... than usual."

"Am I?" I hum, making myself clench around him. A groan bubbles out of Wakatoshi, hands hard as they shove my hips down against his as rough as he can manage. "Aw, is my Baby already coming?" I softly degrade, finally inching close enough to give him a proper kiss. He melts into it, jerking me closer so my belly is pressed against his.

When we part, Wakatoshi flips us over, keeping himself buried in me as I'm pressed into the mattress. "You are rather taunting today."

"Do you not like it?" I ask, tracing the five hickeys littered on his shoulder. I'll have to place some on the other one during our next round.

Wakatoshi stays silent as he slowly pulls out of me, carefully rolling the condom off to not spill any on the bed. "I believe I enjoyed it. It made me finish quicker than I do without it," he finally answers, his eyes flickering between the rubber dangling above me and my boobs.

"That's good." The second word comes out pitched, surprise melting into my tone. Confusion mixes with the surprise, the warm, almost hot feeling of Wakatoshi's cum being dropped onto my chest. "What are you doing?" I ask, carefully watching as he dumps the condom out and onto me.

He gently shakes the rubber, encouraging the last few droplets to leak out and join the puddle on my tits. The puddle that's melting all over my chest and leaving my boobs coated in semen. "I wanted to see what your breasts looked like covered in my sperm. It's an enjoyable sight," Wakatoshi answers, disregarding the used condom on my nightstand before cupping my chest.

His hands squeeze my boobs, repeatedly pushing them in circles and encouraging his cum to spill over more of my skin. His thumbs find my nipples, sliding back and forth as he watches every reaction I have. "I should have asked before doing that," Wakatoshi mutters, uncertainty back in his movements as he leans down to gift me another kiss. "Is this alright? Did you enjoy it? Should I grab a towel to clean your chest before our next round?"

"It was shocking, but not in a bad way."

"Are you enjoying it though?"

"Yes, I am."

He thinks over my answer for a moment, still kneading my breasts. "Do you want me to clean you yet?"

"With your tongue, ya."

Wakatoshi's eyes jerk up, a blush flickering across his cheeks before he gets his rushed reaction under control. "As... as you wish," he mutters, sliding down a bit so his mouth can comfortably reach my tits.

My back arches at the feel of his tongue sliding across my boob, slowly lapping up the mess he made. Wakatoshi takes his time, swirling around my nipple and licking up every last drop before doing the same to the other side. "Look at you," I begin my teasing, running my fingers through his hair. "So eager to clean up the mess you made. What a good boy."

His hips jerk against my thigh, teeth gliding against my nipple as he groans. Wakatoshi's tongue goes flat, sliding over my nipple once more before he pulls away from my chest. "Aww, how cute, someone likes being called a good boy, doesn't he?"

His hands dig into my hip bones, pulling me down as he thrusts into my thigh harder this time. "Can we have sex again?"

———————————————————————

[thehypnone]

Sundown: Chapter 11

WC: 1,2K

Relationship: SwissAlps

Tags: AU; Cowboy!Swiss x Barmaid!Mountain, Transfeminine Mountain, Fluff, Date Gone Wrong, Shooting

Their conversations as they ride are light—as always—and every second spent just being with Mounty makes Swiss even more sure that what he’s planning on doing is right.

Notes: You might hate me for the next few chapters...

Playlist here. / Chapter 1 here or on AO3.

Read chapter 11 under the cut or on AO3.

It still feels like it was only yesterday that Swiss had stumbled into Mounty’s saloon, exhausted after a long journey and in desperate need for a drink. At the same time, though, it feels as if they’ve known each other for decades.

In reality, it has been a year. 

Nearly a year. Three hundred and sixty four days.

The anniversary is tomorrow and Swiss has things planned for them. He’s been an anxious mess about it for a few weeks now, getting support and encouragement from Dewdrop, Rain and Phantom. He just hopes Mounty hasn't figured his plan out considering it’s not their anniversary; that’s a few weeks later. He feels like he’s going to pass out from stress anyway.

They wake up as usual, limbs tangled together under a fluffy blanket, with Swiss’ head resting on Mounty’s chest. Right over her heart; he’s already memorized its rhythm. It’s his favorite music.

The barmaid is still sound asleep, blissfully unaware, and Swiss shifts with all the gentleness in the world so as not to wake her. He rolls over onto his side and rests his head on a bent arm, wanting to stare at her peaceful face for just a little longer. He could stare at her for hours on end, really, and not get bored. He’ll never get bored of her.

Mounty’s chest is bare, rising and falling steadily as she breathes, the blanket covering her from a belly button down; excluding a long leg thrown carelessly over the heap. There’s a perfectly twisted lock of auburn hair on her face, moving slightly with each breath she takes. It must tickle her a little bit, Swiss notes as he watches her nose twitch and scrunch up against the offending strand. He smiles and reaches to gently push it away so it can join the rest of her beautiful hair; spread all over the pillows like a bronze halo around her head.

Swiss watches her until she starts to shift, waking slowly. He leans down, then, and slots his lips against hers. He wants to pull back again to meet her eyes when she opens them, but instead he finds himself being pulled down by his shoulders.

“Mmm…g’morning, cowboy.”

Swiss laughs as he flops back down. This time he kisses Mounty with more purpose and she reciprocates.

“Good morning, sweetheart.”

It’s a solid hour before they emerge from their room, having gotten dressed and ready for the day. They go downstairs, but not without stealing some more kisses on the way.

Once they’re down there, too, of course.

Swiss readies both horses himself when the barmaid is taking care of preparing tea down in the saloon. Then he jumps over to Rain’s pub to grab their breakfast having planned it with the other man in advance.

“Here you go,” Rain smiles at him, handing him a basket full of gloriously smelling steaming food. “Good luck, cowboy.”

“Why, thank you,” he chuckles, though it’s hard to conceal his nervousness. “By the way, my gun’s gonna stay upstairs.”

Rain’s not sure why it’s important for him to know that, but he nods in acknowledgment anyway, before waving the man goodbye. Back in the saloon, Mounty finishes brewing their tea. “Brought some goodies, sweetheart.”

The barmaid hums in approval at the delicious smell and grabs a few plates. Swiss tries not to think about his plan as they eat, but it’s incredibly hard when Mounty looks at him with nothing but love in her eyes. What on earth did he do to deserve her?

It feels like a mere blink of an eye between them waking up and hopping up onto Monty and Taika. Swiss leads them down the main road and out of Sundown; it’s easy for Mounty to guess where it is that they’re going with there not being many spots worth spending time at around. One of them is a rather small, but exceptionally beautiful and peaceful grove just on the outskirts of the little town. It’s an amazing place full of big old trees, hundreds of flowers and singing birds.

Their conversations as they ride are light—as always—and every second spent just being with Mounty makes Swiss even more sure that what he’s planning on doing is right.

If Swiss can be sure of one thing in the world, it’s that they’ve been made for each other.

They hop back down once the ground below their horses’ hooves turns from dry sand to a soft forest ground covered in leaves, bark, flowers and branches. The cowboy takes Taika from his girl and loosens both horses’ girths so they can graze on some grass here and there. When he turns back to Mounty he can’t help but gasp.

She looks like a goddess surrounded by the rich greens of a forest in full bloom. With her hair down and her dress flowing around her equally gracefully as she walks and looks around the breathtaking place.

She is breathtaking.

Swiss can’t wait a second more.

He shoves one of his clammy hands into his pocket, squeezing a little box waiting in there. Mounty doesn’t seem to notice, focused on taking in the landscape.

The cowboy pulls his hand and the box out and gets down on one knee.

He clears his throat and Mounty turns to him with confusion in her eyes. “Swiss, what are you–”

“Sweetheart, you are everything I ever wanted in life and more. You gave me back purpose, made me a better man and showed me that even though the night can be dark and scary, the sun is always going to rise again and chase the evil away. I’m eternally grateful for all you are and all you do.”

Swiss opens the little box to reveal a beautiful ornate ring.

“Mounty, love of my life,” he says and it’s just now that what he’s about to do really hits the barmaid. She gasps and presses a hand against her mouth as tears well up in her eyes. “Will you do me the honor of–”

He doesn’t get to finish the question as chaos is unleashed.

What was supposed to be one of the happiest moments of their life becomes a blur of terrified screams, agitated horses and the ground shaking.

Shots start flying out of nowhere, Swiss feels pain slashing across his arm and he falls back before he can jump in to protect his girl. Out of the corner of his eye he sees Mounty’s mare rear and buck before falling down as she gets shot. There’s no time for the man to process what’s happening before Taika knocks the barmaid down in her panic, too, and Mounty cries out in pain when her legs give out under her on the uneven ground.

Swiss scrambles to get up and run for her, tripping over roots. Too blinded by fear for her safety, he doesn’t notice the barmaid shaking her head and gesturing for him to turn around.

“Swiss, behind you!” she yells in warning with a hurt voice, but it’s too late. Sharp pain blooms from the back of the cowboy’s head and everything goes dark.

[mamashenanigans]

Here’s another prompt I wrote from @glitchhoppp ! They suggested something that has to do with AFO losing his teeth…and deciding Yoichi needs to as well.

Here it is! I wrote it very quick so I’m not sure how well-written it is, but, hell, whatever.

Note that all of these prompts and some older random stuff I’ve written on here will soon be in a one-shot collection on AO3!

If you’d like me to write a little ditty from your prompt then send me an ask!! Please note that I really only write AFO and Yoichi stuff! I can also do Luke and Vader!

AFO and Yoichi MUST look the same

Blood

He slowly pulled his upper half up off the floor, putting his weight on his lower arms. It was hard to focus his vision, but he knew what the red on the floor meant: he was bleeding. The worst of it? He was bleeding from his face.

“Ha! I thought you were supposed to be some powerful teen?” A man’s voice mocked from behind him. He turned his head to look up and was met by the crazed grin of a man that thought himself tougher than he really was. Someone that had to rely on a surprise attack rather than face him head on.

A side-character. Barely worth his time, but the Demon Lord in their favorite comic never let any character speak to him the way this maggot was now.

The teenager went to respond, something witty but deadly, however, he ended up coughing instead. Blood sprayed from his mouth and the sound of something small hitting the ground had him do a double take.

Teeth. His teeth!

Furious at having not just his well-crafted face damaged, but also his smile, which he was just now realizing could get him what he wanted easier than violence, the young man jumped to his feet. Though not something he often did anymore, he found himself growling like he used to as a small child surviving on the streets and incapable of forming words he was never taught.

“Stupid brat! You fell right into my trap! That’ll teach you to try and move in on my territory!” The man laughed then raised his hand. Electricity from the lights and other machines in the abandoned factory bolted towards his palm and started to coalesce into a sphere of focused energy.

The teen, his teeth still bared, wiped the blood from his mouth and glared. Calculations were running through his mind and meta powers looked over to prepare for a counter attack.

“Now, screw off!” A huge bolt of energy shot from the man’s hand towards the bloody youth, but the man’s glee was cut short when the bolt bounced off of an energy barrier—and straight back at him.

“Shit!” The man was thrown into the opposite wall by his own blast and crumbled to the floor. “What? How did you—”

Crack

Before his attacker could finish, the teen had appeared next to him, breaking his neck without much preamble. He was far too pissed. Mad about being tricked, mad about his face, and especially mad about his teeth! How was he supposed to repair this? And—

Yoichi had all of his teeth.

Well, that simply wouldn’t do.

——

“Oh! Big brother! You’re back!” Yoichi said as he saw his brother land not far from where he sat surrounded by books. “I was reading more of the biology book I found! It’s so interesting! Can…can I tell you about it?”

Yoichi cocked his head to the side as his brother got closer and had yet to answer. “Big brother?”

”What does the book say about teeth?”

Two small clinks had Yoichi look down at what his brother had thrown towards him. Oh, my. They were teeth. He looked back up, his brother now standing over him, and cringed.

“Brother! What happened?” He pulled himself to his feet and slowly reached up to his brother’s face. He lightly touched the portion that had already started to swell and the bruising had turned the skin a dark purple, almost black. “I haven’t seen you get a hit like this in a very long time. Is this how you lost your teeth?”

His brother scoffed, but didn't pull away from his twin’s touch. “Some weakling decided to jump me. It’s taken care of now, but, yes, this is why those,” he pointed to the teeth that laid at their feet, “are no longer where they should be.”

Yoichi pointedly didn’t contest his brother’s ’taken care of’ comment and instead gave him a concerned look with a slight smile, something he hoped would calm his twin down. He wasn’t sure if it worked, though, since his brother’s eyes suddenly went sharp, focusing on Yoichi’s face.

The smaller brother attempted to slightly change the subject and answer his twin’s first question. “Um, in the book, it talked about development and, yes, there was something about teeth.” Yoichi picked up the book he had left near his pile and quickly turned through the pages to the correct page. He pointed at the section. “See. Here it says how we lose our ‘baby teeth’ as we get older and then we get ‘adult teeth’ that are permanent. Oh, that means…”

Yoichi looked down at the two teeth on the floor and then back to his brother. He flinched slightly at the angry look his brother gave him. “Um, is everything okay? Ya know, besides the whole missing teeth thing?”

”No. It isn’t.”

Yoichi yelped as his brother roughly grabbed his face with one large hand, pulling him closer and using his other hand to open his twin’s mouth. He peered inside and made a frustrated sound then released his little brother’s mouth, but not his face. The older boy stuck his fingers into his own mouth and felt around, pinpointing exactly where he was missing teeth.

Yoichi attempted to say something, but was stopped by his brother’s hand once more prying open his mouth and his eyes, starting to shake and becoming more and more crazed, looked around once more.

“This won’t do, Yoichi. These were permanent?! That means they won’t…grow back? We’re twins, though. Twins!” The older teen traced the teeth in his little brother’s mouth, the ones he no longer had, and tapped them in thought. “If I don’t have them…you shouldn’t either.”

Yoichi’s eyes widened and he tried to pull away, but his brother was far stronger and far more irrational. His objections came out as grunts and slurs, and his attempts to use his hands and feet to push his brother away was like trying to move a ten ton boulder.

This was why it was difficult sometimes for Yoichi to understand his brother. Of course, he certainly understood him more than anyone else could or even dared to, but there were times when he’d become so irrational that Yoichi simply couldn’t get through to him no matter what.

Terrifyingly, this seemed to be one of those times.

His big brother had a strange fascination with them being twins. Ever since they were able to put two and two together that they had to be, and after Yoichi had found a book all about it, his brother had gained interest. But that interest quickly morphed into something…dangerous. Big brother was convinced they had to be identical—and Yoichi was fairly certain too—and that was made more concrete after he realized he probably absorbed(taken) Yoichi’s metapower. The only way that could have happened is if they shared the same placenta; connected by the same umbilical cord…which made them identical.

But his obsession with being identical, albeit in larger features than Yoichi due to the little twin’s underdevelopment, would have him making rash decisions…like he may do now.

“I am sorry, my Yoichi, but this just won’t do. We need to be identical. I already allow you to have your longer hair, mostly because it’s just so pretty, but…well, this, I’ll need to put my foot down.” Before Yoichi could react to his brother’s crazed words, he felt the sudden snap of both of his teeth, the ones that mirrored those his brother missed. All it took was a quick motion of his brother’s large and powerful fingers to do so and he screamed the best he could with the hands still in his mouth.

“Shhh, shhh now, my twin. It’s okay!” Yoichi’s face was covered in tears and snot as his brother pulled him into a suffocating hug. “Shh, I’m here. It’s okay. It’s okay! See! We’re back to being the same now!”

The smaller twin coughed, which wasn’t abnormal for him to begin with, but blood sprayed out onto his big brother’s face. His twin made no motion to rub it off and instead—creepily and concerning—licked the blood that had landed close to his mouth. “It’s okay! I did that too!”

No, it wasn’t okay! Why? Why did he have to lose his teeth too! They were adult teeth! He showed him, he showed him! He showed him in the book! Why? Why? WHY?

”I’ll find a metapower to heal us, ya know.” Yoichi’s eyes widened once more and he looked up at his twin in shock. “It may not be super powerful or anything, but I’m certain I’ll find something to give us our beautiful smiles back. Until then, though,” he gingerly picked Yoichi up, as small as he was, and brought him over to the corner where their makeshift bed was, “we’ll be the same.”

Yoichi’s head was carefully placed on his pillow and his brother quickly settled in next to him, holding him close and tight…too tight. The little one continued to cry, knowing that any argument about this was pointless. It was already done just like so much of his brother’s awful deeds.

The older twin caressed his little twin’s face, smiling at him lovingly. Yoichi was apart of him—meant to be one—, an extension of himself. It was only right that he too would be missing teeth. He knew it hurt him, but that was the other important thing:

They both needed to feel the same hurt.

[solaris-amethyst]

💫Sing for me?💫

✨Pairing: San x gn!reader ✨Prompt: You over hear your coworker sing and convinces him to sing at work in front of your guests. ✨Word Count: 2.6k ✨Genre: fluff, non idol au, romance, coworkers to lovers ☀️️Authors Note: That picture of San is one of my favorites😭 What did you guys think of this one? I am so proud of this one actually, I'm so happy with how it turned out🥰

There was not much going on at the moment at work. You were finishing up your chores by throwing out some of the trash so San who were closing alone tonight wouldn't have much to do at all.

You liked working with San, he was a great man who was kind, lovely, funny and just overall someone you enjoyed being around. Sharing your shift with him always led to you laughing so much your stomach hurt and walking home with butterflies.

He was incredibly handsome and you would be lying if you said you didn't have a slight crush on said man. He was incredibly handsome and such a sweetheart that your heart almost always beat a little faster when around him.

If only you could get the courage to ask him out on a date. But the anxiety of him potentially saying no and it ruining the friendship you two got going on is what stopped you from acting on those butterflies. Nothing would make it worse than having to go to work every day and it being awkward with the two of you when usually the two of you always had fun playing around at the little cafe.

After the last trash bag had been thrown away you entered from the back of the cafe to walk back to the front but you suddenly stopped when you heard a lovely voice singing from the front. It sounded almost siren like in your ears as the voice sang softly along to the radio.

The voice was beautiful, luring you back to the front where the man you had been working with was singing, his back towards you as he cleaned the counter. You couldn't help yourself just standing there in the door opening looking at him in awe.

Never had San mentioned he could sing and oh how you wished he had mentioned it earlier because this was simply so beautiful it almost moved you to tears with the way he sang the love song that was softly playing from the radio. It wasn't until San turned around while singing that he noticed you, causing him to falter and flinch not having expected you there. "Oh shit! Y/n!! What ar you doing here?! I thought you clocked out and went home!" He looks flustered, holding a hand to his chest.

"I went to throw out the trash before I clocked out. I wanted to make the closing shift easier for." You confessed sheepishly looking him straight in the eyes.

San quickly avoided eye contact with you, his ears turning a bright red you noticed.

"You sing beautifully San. I didn't know you could sing like that." You complimented him hoping he'd look up at you.

"I'm not that good..." He says rubbing a hand behind his head denying your compliment causing you to look at him flabbergasted.

"What are you talking about San? You sounded beautifully when singing. You have talent that's for sure. You could definitely pursue music you know and be very successful." You told him earnestly.

"You really think so?" He looks at you curiously and with a glint in his eyes that you can't fully tell what it means.

"Yes 100%. Ohhh! I know! Why don't we have you sing here at work?? We could create a little stage and have like a two hour time slot where you sing ballads and such in the cafe for our customers to enjoy??" You say excitedly walking up to him.

Sans eyes widen at your idea and he takes a step back as you walk closer in excitement. You look so passionate about this, so beautiful with your eyes shining with happiness in his own eyes.

"You... You really think so? But what if they won't like me singing?"

"Oh please! They'd love it! I can promote it on social media together with Yeosang! People would come and they'd love it! Please San, think about it you'd get to sing infront of people and share this side of you."

"Okay I'll think about it."

You beamed at him nodding excitedly giving him a quick hug before going back to the staff room to change and check out for the day. Saying goodbye for the day to San and going on your merry way home. What you didn't see was San smiling to himself doing a little celebration dance due to the fact that you had complimented his singing voice earlier.

- 🔆 - 🔅 - 🔆 - 🔅 - 🔆 - 🔅 - 🔆 - 🔅 - 🔆 - 🔅 - 🔆 - 🔅 - 🔆 - 🔅 -

"Hey Y/n" "Oh! Hi San!" "I have been thinking about what you told me yesterday about me singing and doing it at work." "I want to try it. You were so encouraging and I'd like to take a leap of faith and if all else fail and people doesn't turn up at least I get to sing for you" "😲 !!!" "Ahhhhhh I'm so glad to hear that!!!" "Omg I'm so excited to make this work!!! You think about which songs you wanna sing and let me and Yeosang do the online stuff okay!!💞"

You immediately after you had responded to Sans messages went to text Yeosang about this all giddily. Your heart had done a somersault once you had read the part where San had written that even if no one turns up he'd at least get to sing for you.

You're glad you live alone so that no one had to see the way you were swinging your legs happily whilst texting Yeosang. He had agreed immediatly once hearing your plan about San and were already thinking about how the two of you were going to decorate the whole place. He had specifically written that he knew a guy who could help you guys with the sound system and find a good mic for San to use and that he had texted him immediately about this whole plan and his friend named Hongjoong had been on board.

The three of you made a group chat together and spent the whole night discussing and planning for the show. Yeosang was already making posts about what ended up dubbing The Evening Serenade and he had already made some amazing posters which he had sent to San as well to get his approval before he posted them on your cafés social media.

The next few days at work you and Yeosang had been buzzing like bees since your boss had agreed to this and the both of you were working so hard to decorate the whole place. Today was finally the day of the performance and you were finishing up the last finishing touches on the stage.

"Is there anything I can help you guys with?" San questioned as he went up to you, looking over the little stage you were decorating for the performance.

"Do you think you could hand me the flowers over there? I wanna make a pretty backdrop for you." You motion towards the flowers and he quickly went and picked them up joining you on the stage to help you create the backdrop.

"I've decided on the songs I want to sing today." He said with a shy smile as you looked at him excited.

"You have?! Will I get to know which songs you've chosen or will it be a surprise?" He chuckled at your question whilst handing you a rose

"It will have to be a secret for you, I've told Yeosang and his friend about the songs but for you it will be a surprise."

"Awwww you can't give me a hint? At least one song??" You beg him hoping he'd tell you at least one song, it brings out a giggle from him causing you to smile. His giggle was just as melodic as his singing is and you loved hearing it. It made your heart soar at the fact you managed to get him to giggle.

"All I can say is one of the songs is your favorite song and I even made sure it was the right version they're using for the instrumental, just for you." He confesses with a smile, his eyes twinkling and ending up in the shape of crescent moons. He looked so soft and kind right now.

"My favorite song... but I have so many San! How will I figure out which one you chose?!" You pout and he gently bumps the side of his body against yours.

"I guess you just have to wait and see until the performance starts sweetheart" He gives you a wink before taking some more flowers to put on the backdrop.

"I'm looking forward to hear your lovely singing voice again." You admit trying to fight the way your face is heating up, hoping he won't notice it, if he does he says nothing of it.

After the two of you had fixed the backdrop and you had made him sit on the chair and do some poses as if he was singing, which he did shyly trying to ignore the customers who were already there looking at him curiously, had you decided it looked good and brought forward the best side of him.

The closer the time got to 14:30, the more people started to come inside and order something to eat and drink before the performance was about to start. Yeosangs posts on social media and all of you working plus Yeosangs friend Hongjoong sharing it had caused it to gain lots of traction.

Your boss had even said if this was a success then she wanted it to become a reoccurring thing at the café.

"Oh wow look at you San! You look stunning!" You couldn't help but gape at him, he looked beautiful in black dress pants, a cream colored shirt which he had rolled up the sleeves so you could see his forearms and a pair of black shoes.

"Thank you. Is it alright? Does it fit the theme? I wasn't sure of how much I should dress up for this." He admitted looking a bit worried whilst looking down at his own clothes. You took a step forward taking his hands in yours to reassure him.

"You look absolutely stunning San. Truly, you look wonderful."

"Thank you Y/n, it means a lot hearing it from you." There it was, that gorgeous smile that always gave you butterflies in your stomach. He squeezed your hand lightly before excusing himself as Yeosang called for him to come to the stage so they could quickly fix the mic before starting the whole event.

You walked back to the counter incase anyone wanted to buy something but also so you would have perfect view of San as he was performing infront of everyone.

After some introductions and a thank you to everyone who had turned up the music started and the first song San sang was I'm Yours by Jason Mraz, he looked nervous in the beginning but soon the nerves must have melted away because he flourished on that scene like the flowers behind him.

"There is one song he's dedicated to you, you know." Yeosang whispers to you as he takes his place next to you causing you to look at him surprised.

"Really?"

"Yeah I'll nudge you when it comes on so you can focus on him." Yeosang winks at you before getting his work phone up to film some of the performance to post on your works instagram.

Very often during Sans performances would he make eye contact with you and give you a smile or a wink as he was singing before focusing back on the crowd. It was perhaps 1 hour and 30 minute into his performance that a familiar tune came from the speakers and Yeosang nudged you eagerly clearly wanting you to focus on San.

You glanced at Yeosang with big eyes before turning to focus on San. There was no way he dedicated this song to you. The melody to I will always love you played through the speakers as San started to sing the song.

You were surprised that San had actually remembered how you had mentioned you preferred the original version of the song and how you loved the way Dolly Parton sang the love song she had written. Yet here he was proving you wrong, he had remembered how you had told him that when speaking about favorite love songs.

Sans eyes had never left your form once since the song had started. He enjoyed seeing the way you stared at him with big eyes, clearly shocked he had chosen this song to dedicate to you. He could see Yeosang next to you grinning and whispering something causing you to smile shyly.

During the entire song you could feel every single emotion San put through the song and it was beautiful, truly. You almost teared up because of it had you not been at work. He finished the song with a small wink towards you.

"That concludes today's Evening Serenade. I want to thank everyone who turned up today and made this a success and came here to listen to me sing. Thank you all." San said into the mic before giving a little bow on the stage to the sound of applauds and whistles.

People were complementing him as he went off stage and towards the back to have a little moment for himself. Yeosang nudged you towards the back as well, saying it was very important you went there immediately.

You hurried to the back to see if you could find San after his wonderful performance.

"San?? Are you here?? I just wanted to congratulate you and tell you how wonderful you wer-oh!" Your rambling was cut off by a bouquet of flowers appearing infront of you together with a red faced San.

"T-these are for you Y/n." He confessed

"Me?! What? I should be the one gifting you flowers! You were amazing San! And the last song! I can't believe you remembered me telling you that was my favorite love song." You said whilst accepting the flowers he insisted on giving you.

"Yeah I wanted this to be very special for you."

"Special? For me? Why? This is your big day not mine."

"There's something I wanted to ask you." San said suddenly seeming more nervous than he had been during his first shift which had included a hectic rush his first few hours.

"Okay, I'm listening to whatever you want to ask." You smiled wanting to be encouraging as he was fidgeting in his spot.

"Y/n, I have realized lately that you mean more to me than I had previously realized. You're kind, passionate, loving and such a delight to be around. Being with you is like a dream I'd never want to wake up from. I look forward to work because I know I get to be with you and listen to you talk about anything and everything you want with such passion. You're like the light of my world and if you'd have me I would want to be the light of your world as well." He confesses and you stare at him in shock, you're not entirely sure if you're dreaming right now or if this is real life.

"San are you..." You couldn't even finish the sentence in fear you were dreaming or making it all up in your head.

"Would you like to be my partner?" He finally asks and you nod quicker than you've ever done before that its almost embarrassing.

Almost.

"Yes. Yes San. And for the record you're already the light of my world love."

San takes a step forward and brings you into his embrace and you carefully embrace him back before he leans up and look towards you. He leans forward and captures your lips in a short but sweet kiss.

"I love you."

"I love you too."

[apollo-likes-writing]

June of Doom Day Four: Punishment

Fandom: Honkai: Star Rail

Character(s): Sunday, Gopher Wood/Penacony's Dreammaster, Robin.

Summary: After the events at Clock Studio Park, the entirety of Penacony is thrown into chaos. The Dreammaster is demanding answers; answers that Sunday does not have.

Word count: 1,536

Tags: Angst, whump (technically), abuse, physical abuse, threats, violence, manipulation, emotional manipulation.

Author's Note: I'm actually super proud of this one. Just as a note: the term "Master" is used but it is not in a NSFW context, don't worry. Also, is this just me projecting my hatred of Gopher Wood? Yes. Do I care? No.

@juneofdoom

Masterlist | Day Three

“Sunday.” 

The Halovian’s head snaps up from where he kneels at the feet of Gopher Wood: the current Dreammaster of Penacony. He was summoned by the figurehead earlier that night after Aventurine’s little tantrum. The giant crimson gash in Dreamscape sky formed by that Self-Annihilator is still fresh and weeping at Clock Studio’s Park, and it is Sunday’s fault for letting it happen. Or that is at least how Wood sees it. 

“Yes, Master?” The compliment is familiar on his tongue and sickeningly so. He forces himself to hold eye contact with the man above him as he lounges about on his now imposing chair. 

This is not the first time. 

“What happened tonight?” It is phrased like a statement, not a question – but Sunday answers anyway with practiced eloquence. 

“An Emanator of Nihility snuck into Penacony posing as a Galaxy Ranger, and the IPC ambassador – Aventurine of the Ten Stonehearts – took her in battle and lost.” The script he has ran through in his head is simple and succinct, just as the man above him prefers. 

“Unsurprising, but I am not asking you to tell me things I already know, Sunday,” Wood states plainly, lifting his hand and checking over the fabric of his gloves as if bored with the Oak Family head. Sunday’s eyes remain trained on the Dreammaster’s but it is an actual that remains unrequited. 

“I’m unsure of what you mean, Sir,” Sunday lies. 

“You know exactly what I mean, child.” 

He hates being called that. It is demeaning and implies inferiority. He supposes in this situation that he is inferior to Gopher Wood, but that doesn’t interfere with his distaste for the term. Not that he would ever be courageous enough to demand better treatment. Sunday knew what he was signing up for when he was a child, and he intends to follow that through. 

(He, in truth, had no idea. He was manipulated and groomed.) 

This is for Robin’s sake. 

That is the thought process he has now and is the exact same as the one he had during one of his first interactions with Gopher Wood when he was only that: Gopher Wood. He expects that it will be the same thought process he has for the rest of his life and beyond. 

“Do not make me ask you again.” Gopher decides to look at him now, the image of grace and neutrality. 

Sunday fights the urge to swallow the lump forming in his throat and instead attempts to mirror him. 

“Apologies, Master,” Sunday begins. “I’m not sure what you me-” 

A harsh slap sounds out in the large room, and it echoes nauseatingly back to Sunday’s ears as his head is whipped to the side. His cheek stings, but he doesn’t dare reach to his own face to soothe it. 

This is not the first time. 

Wood’s façade cracks slightly, showing visible anger and distaste before it reverts to its statue-like nature. 

Gopher sighs, voice clearly showing restraint. “You’re making me repeat myself. I hate repeating myself. I thought you would have learned this by now.” Sunday recognises that tone of voice and he can’t stop himself from freezing up. 

“You know what must happen now.” 

This is not the first time. 

Sunday nods. Slowly. 

“Yes, Master.” 

“Get up,” the Dreammaster commands. Sunday does so immediately, lifting himself up from the ground and standing resolutely in front of him; the image of elegance. One hand rests at his lower back, the other on his stomach as he watches the man in front of him. Gopher remains where he is, moving his hand to press a button that Sunday knows is connected to a microphone. He leans in and begins to speak. 

“Robin, dear? Can you come in?” he asks, voice melodious and full of pleasant timbre. It is a voice that Sunday hasn’t heard in a long time. 

What? No. This isn’t what they agreed upon. Sunday would take the brunt of Wood’s torment to protect Robin from harm. This is not what they agreed on all those years ago. 

“Master? What are you doing? You can’t hurt Robin. You promi-” 

Gopher cuts him off again. “Silence.” The younger Halovian immediately closes his mouth. “Do not speak again for your sister’s sake.” 

The Oak Family head itches to say something. To go over to that wretched man and destroy him from the inside-out with Xipe’s blessing. To rip those glasses off his face, shatter the lenses, and stab them into his vocal cords so that he may never speak to him or Robin ever again. 

He doesn’t do that, though. The consequences are much too dire. His fingers twitch in apprehension and Gopher shoots him a quick glare over the tops of his glasses as a result. He stops, and the door behind him opens to his sister’s kind voice. 

“Mr. Gopher Wood? You wanted to see me?” Robin asks, the smile she carries everywhere evident in the way she speaks. 

The Dreammaster smiles, and Sunday wants to rip it off his face. “Robin, my dear! Come here, will you? I have a present.” Robin does so gracefully, silvery hair cascading beautifully behind her as she walks in front of Sunday to stand dutifully before Wood. He stands and unhooks the chains connected to his glasses’ frames, taking them off. He folds them up neatly and hands them to the woman. “Keep a hold of these for me, okay? They’re giving me an awful headache and I don’t trust myself to put them down and not lose them,” he laughs. “Oh, and these too. You know how I am with losing things.” Gopher then proceeds to tug at the fingers of his pristine white gloves and takes them off, folding them just as neatly and placing them gently into the outstretched palms of the youngest of the two siblings. He reaches up with bare hands and closes Robin’s fist around the objects and smiles again, eyes warm. Sunday remains frozen where he stands, feet rooted to the elaborate tile flooring. 

Robin poorly conceals the confusion in her face and shoots a quick glance at her brother, who attempts to mimic the Dreammaster’s cheery smile. Always full of that childish innocence, Robin eventually returns the smile and turns and curtsies to Gopher Wood, who chuckles and quietly gestures the door in an act of dismissal. The woman understands and twists again to leave. 

It happens so fast that Sunday almost misses it. The Dreammaster lunges at Robin and grabs her. Is he going to kill her? He can’t. Sunday would kill him if he did that. The young man steps forward slightly, ready to protect his sister, only to be halted by a withering glare from Gopher Wood and the sight of what is happening in front of him. 

He’s hugging her. 

Robin freezes up, clearly taken off guard. Her face is concealed by Wood’s arms, so Sunday can’t see her expression, but he imagines it’s one of shock. An expression that probably mirrors Sunday’s own. Much to his horror, Robin eventually returns the hug, wrapping her arms around the man in front of her. They stay like that for a while and Sunday grows more and more antsy with every passing minute. Finally, he lets go, and gently grips Robin by the shoulder and tilts his body down so his eyeline matches hers. 

“You are like the daughter I never had. You know that, right?” he states, before gesturing to where Sunday stands statuesque. “Just as your brother is like a son to me.” At Robin’s nod, Gopher chuckles and ruffles her hair playfully. It seems mundane, but there’s an ominous undertone that only Robin doesn’t detect. She giggles and turns to leave a second time, smiling graciously to Sunday as she passes. The door eventually clicks shut behind him, and Gopher’s kind, fatherly persona falls in record time, replaced by his original rageful neutrality. 

“I will never hurt your sister, Sunday,” he begins. “As long as you do as I say. That was our agreement, yes?” The Oak Family head nods, fear now evident in his face. “Good. That will change if you continue to act out of line. Do you understand me?” 

Sunday nods again and Gopher storms over to him, pissed. The younger man steps back out of instinct. The Dreammaster raises an arm and punches Sunday across the jaw, causing the man to stumble and fall over backwards. Out of fear, he doesn’t move from there, only putting his hands below his body to support himself as he looks up at Gopher as he towers above him. The older man crouches down to Sunday’s level and grabs him harshly by his now sore jaw. He pulls him towards him, his face now inches away from Sunday’s as he stares him down. 

“Use your words, child. Do you understand me?” he repeats. 

With his voice muffled, Sunday lets out a weak “Yes,” and Gopher throws him back onto the ground. He stands back up to his full height and gazes down at him, lips now curling into a sneer. 

“Your dedication to your sister’s wellbeing is admirable, Sunday. Let’s see how deep that dedication runs.” 

[only-lonely-star]

hihi can u do a dallas x male curtis reader where darry finds out about them or something along those lines?

Hidden

Warnings: Homophobia is not tolerated on my blog. So little PSA, I didn’t write Darry to be a homophobe!! The fear is just that Darry is protective of reader and wants to prevent any heartbreak!

Summary: You knew he had nothing but good intentions.

Author’s Note: I feel like I made this way more angsty than I intended it to be, but I’m proud of it. This is also my first time writing for a male reader, so I apologize if this writing isn’t very good. I’m trying! 😣 Enjoy, my loves!!

Word Count: 1.5k.

. 。・゜✭・.・✫゜・。. . 。・゜✭・.・✫゜・。.

Dallas, your love-struck boyfriend, couldn’t be more obsessed with you. Your sweet smile which enticed him each time without fail, the inviting presence of your tight hugs around him - it only heightened his love for you.

Keeping your relationship a secret was the hard part. Each night spent sneaking around was a battle within itself. The constant fear nagging at the both of you whenever the footsteps of your brothers could be heard through the door - the only thing keeping you from being caught. It was exhausting. Your oldest brother, Darrel, was set on keeping you safe from any harm caused by a relationship. Since the recent heartbreak of your twin brother, Sodapop, Darrel’s protective instincts have only grown. He never wanted to see his little brother endure such pain again - including you.

Splayed out over the warm skin of Dallas’s chest, his arms slinked over your bare back. The heat emanated from his own body only enveloped you closer. The cold sting of his pendant was a subtle reminder of your secrecy, and that you needed to be kept on high alert. “Dal, are you heading out soon?” your voice cracked as the words left your lips. Your head tilted upwards to look him in the eye.

“No. What the hell for?” Dallas replied, his eyes glued to the ceiling. His grip seemed to tighten around your back as if he was afraid you would slip away.

You pushed your head up from his chest to speak, “I don’t want to risk getting caught. You know how it is…”

The tension between you was palpable, the silence causing the majority of it. Dallas’s piercing look told you everything you needed to know about how he felt about ‘being caught’. “Bullshit. Man, when have we ever been caught? Never. You’re paranoid.” Dallas shook his head disapprovingly, scooting up so that his back was pressed against the wooden headboard behind him.

He pulled you up along with him, readjusting your body’s position against his chest. Your head rested right above his sternum. The steady rise and fall of each breath he took settled your nerves once more. “There’s always a possibility. I’d rather be safe than s- ”

“Shut,” he kissed the top of your head assertively, “Up.” Dallas squeezed your side to further enhance his command.

The smile that crept its way upon your face didn’t go unnoticed by Dallas. He exhaled deeply. “Do you really think I’d hurt you? Are you really believing that junk your brother is tossin’ at you?”

“No, Dally, of course, I don’t.”

“‘Cause it sure sounds like it to me,” his tone softened, a surprising amount of vulnerability shown in his words.

You swallowed hard, biting your tongue to prevent any backtalk flooding from your lips. Exerting force from your hands, you pushed your body upwards to allow yourself some space. You laid in a similar position beside Dallas. “Losing you isn’t something I can just accept. It’s not paranoia, it’s being sensible,” you disagreed.

“Sensible…” he echoed sarcastically, shifting his body to face yours. “Look,” Dallas spoke in a hushed whisper, “Have I ever let somethin’ bad happen to you?”

Your head shook immediately, almost as a reflex of some sort. Dallas had never let you down. He took the blame for every accusation thrown at him, no matter how extreme. “No,” you sighed defeatedly.

Dallas pushed himself from the headboard, twisting his torso so that he hovered just inches above you. “So quit worryin’,” Dallas kissed your lips tenderly to hush you.

You let him stop you for once. You figured you may as well spend your time together wisely since any moment could be your last. The small act of submission, the silence, invoked a burning desire in Dallas. He always had a similar mindset as you in various aspects, so it was no surprise he also felt you two had wasted enough time as is.

Dallas rose to place his hands on either side of your head. His body slouched over yours as his eyes roamed your lips hungrily. His eyes revealed a pleading look of wonder. His gaze alone was enough to make the tension between you rise. “Alright, handsome, I guess I’ll get goin’…” Dallas looked away teasingly, the sarcasm laced in his tone obvious.

“Aw, come here,” you chuckled, placing a firm hand around his jawline. You pulled him down to your lips with a swift motion. He took your bottom lip graciously, allowing his body to rest on top of yours effortlessly. Your other hand ran down the side of his torso, grazing against every toned muscle on display. His eyes shut in a haze of desperation for more. He needed more.

“You sure you don’t want me to leave? ‘Cause I sure can-.” Dallas teased continuously, his sarcasm only charming you further.

“You ain’t leaving this bed ‘till I say so,” you quipped, reclaiming your authority over his stay tonight.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought,” he smiled, a suggestive glint in his eye.

Dallas took his opportunity to have you to himself. He let his hands roam the delicate area of your neck and collarbone, shifting his weight on your torso. He captured your lips in a long, sensual kiss. Buried amongst the inviting presence of your bedsheets, you allowed yourself to become enveloped in his affectionate advances. Your arms pulled him down flush against your chest, ensuring he wasn’t going anywhere. The passionate kisses continued, a breathy groan flowing from Dallas’s lips. You were completely lost in his touch, the constant ruffling of the sheets causing you to become unaware of the rattling doorknob. As the rush of adrenaline kicked in, you struggled under Dallas’s weight to pry him off of you. Dallas, unbeknownst to the ominous presence of your older brother, voided your shove. You tilted your head to the side in a swirl of panic, his lips crashing onto your cheek instead.

Darrel saw it. He saw it all. Your bodies mingled in bed, the persistent affection on Dallas’s side, the look of utter shock plastered on your face. He witnessed it entirely. Shocked, his eyebrows knitted together as his scowl deepened.

Dallas saw the look of surprise on your face, and slowly read the room. He turned around wistfully, taking his time to remove himself from atop your body. He now knew there was no going back, no lying, no excuses - nothing. “Darry, look -,” he began, holding a hand out to create some sort of barrier.

“You just get the hell out! You ain’t nothing but trouble, and you sure as hell ain’t hurting my brother. Out!” Darrel seethed with anger. His eyes expressed a disappointment far deeper than you’d seen before. It was deeper than any look he’d ever given himself.

Dallas looked equally as pissed as Darrel, but he knew acting out on his anger would only worsen the situation. He slowly inched off the bed, snatching his denim jacket from the end of the mattress. He held eye contact with your brother, visualizing the most vile of arguments in his head. Nobody bossed Dallas around.

“Out,” Darrel gritted his teeth so hard he just about broke his jaw.

“I didn’t do nothing, man. It’s always some bunch of bullshit with you,” Dallas cursed under his breath, each step across the floorboards harsh and full of anger.

Your love was torn apart from you, but now was no time to mourn. Darrel exhaled deeply, rubbing his temple in frustration. He didn’t even bother to glance up at you. “How long has this been goin’ on?”

Remaining silent, you felt each knot in the pit of your stomach only twist tighter. You couldn’t lie to your brother like that. You loved Dallas, but that couldn’t compromise for much else in this situation. “A while…” you relented, your breath coming out short.

“You didn’t think to tell me you were seeing him? And Dallas of all folks?” Darrel groaned aloud. “Why?”

Why? Because you feared this would happen. Darrel wouldn’t understand that moving around in secrecy with Dallas was the only way to avoid backlash for dating the most infamous hoodlum around.

“Darry- he isn’t doing anything wrong! I know you’re just looking out for me, but I promise you that he ain’t going to hurt me!” The words erupted from your lips, spilling out a minute.

Darrel didn’t have much to say. He stood there with a guilty look plastered along his face. A mere second later, he embraced you and held you tightly against him. His muscular arm wrapped around your neck, choking and smothering you. “I know- I know it, I just care about you is all. I couldn’t ever see my kid brother in pain again, I couldn’t do it,” he explained into your shoulder.

You knew Darrel meant well. It was the dread and anxiety that came along with the possibility of anger and hostility that made you desire to keep this so hidden. Dallas had made his reputation true to himself - though he had changed completely for you. There needed to be trust established before your brother came to realize this, of course. But for now, you no longer had to keep your love locked away in secrecy.

I HOPE THIS WAS GOOD 😔

THANK YOU FOR READING!!

- Sophia 🫶🏼

[snowdice]

New Couch; Old Habits (Part of the Envisage Series)

Fandom: Sanders Sides

Relationships: Roman & Logan, Virgil & Logan, Virgil & Patton, Patton/Logan (background)

Characters: Roman, Logan, Virgil, Patton

Summary: Virgil's parents come to visit him in his new apartment.

Notes: Leg Injury, very brief allusions to torture, Superhero AU

This takes place after Best Laid Plans and is part of the Labeled Universe.

Roman couldn’t help but fidget on the landing between the second and third floor of his new apartment building. “Are you sure you don’t want…”

 “Attempt to carry me one more time Mr. Silvia, and I will throw you out of a window,” Mr. Dr. Sanders said. His tone was without heat, but Roman was certain he was serious. His body may not have fully recovered from being captured, but his powers certainly had. Roman was not interested in having a thrown down with Bluebird even on a day where Bluebird had his leg in a cast and was wobbling on crutches. Roman would probably still lose.

He had to restrain himself from reaching for the man as he teetered dangerously on his crutches while tackling the next step.

Mr. Dr. Sanders was not used to going up stairs with his crutches. Sure, he’d been taught how to do so in physical therapy and his and Dr. Patton’s house had a staircase, but Roman doubted he every actually walked up them. Today, however, they were in a semi-public place, so the man did not want to glide up the stairs like Dracula. He also wasn’t confident in using his powers in a non-obvious way to steady himself yet, so normal plebeian stair climbing with crutches was the only option. Or at least, it was the only option Mr. Dr. Sanders’ pride would let him take.

Roman swore he had heart palpitations every time Mr. Dr. Sander’s good leg left solid ground so he could swing forward supported only by the crutches.

Roman heard footsteps coming up the stairs behind him and winced, worried he was about to awkwardly meet one of his new neighbors, but when he glanced back, it was just Dr. Patton. Dr. Patton had gone to park the car and grab something for them all to eat for dinner. It had taken him a bit as the apartment was downtown with little parking, and he’d likely had to park the car on the university campus. Two bulging plastic bags swung on his arms as he came to a stop a few steps below them.

He seemed surprised to see them still on the stairs, but then shook his head with an eyeroll. “Sweetie,” he said. “I didn’t ask Roman to meet us downstairs so you could make him watch you climb two flights of stairs yourself.”

Mr. Dr. Sanders pursed his lips. He did not turn to look at Dr. Patton as he was too focused on the next step he needed to take. “I am perfectly capable of going up stairs on my own.”

As though to demonstrate, he swung for the next step, perhaps too quickly. He made it, but it was a close thing. Dr. Patton made a sound between a tsk and a scoff but didn’t argue seeing as he was only three stairs away from the top. He and Roman lingered on the stairs below Mr. Dr. Sanders as he finished proving himself.

“Alright,” Mr. Dr. Sanders said once firmly on the third floor. “Which is your apartment?”

“This way,” Roman said, walking around the man towards his apartment with his keys in hand. Virgil always insisted that Roman lock the door behind him even if one of them was still in the apartment or he only planned to be out for a moment. (He always said stepping out for a moment can end up lasting longer than expected and Roman hated that Virgil’s dad had just proven him correct.)

It took Roman a few tries to get the key to work as the lock stuck a bit, and he wasn’t used to opening it. By the time he managed to get the door open, Mr. and Dr. Sanders were beside him.

“What kind of surprise takes you half an hour to get it from downstairs?” Virgil asked as Roman swung open the door.

“A stubborn one,” Roman replied dryly, walking into their apartment.

Virgil looked up from his place on one of their two armchairs with a confused pinch to his brow, but then he saw his parents in the doorway. He blinked in surprise. “What are you doing here?” he asked, and Roman knew it was not directed at Dr. Patton considering Dr. Patton had been here 5 days in the past week.

“While I fully acknowledge I was incapable of helping you move in last week, I still wished to see your new apartment,” Mr. Dr. Sanders replied. “We brought dinner, and Roman suggested we could watch a movie this evening.”

“He probably just wants to make sure we didn’t put our canned vegetables in the wrong cabinet,” Roman stage whispered with an eyeroll.

“I trust Virgil to know the correct way to organize,” Mr. Dr. Sanders replied, “so, if they do happen to be in the wrong places, I will know who is to blame.”

The small bit of banter gave Virgil time to collect himself from the surprise. “Uh,” he said, getting to his feet. “Come in, please. You should, er, sit, especially you.”

Mr. Dr. Sanders didn’t argue (he had to be exhausted at this point). He allowed Virgil to lead him by the arm to their couch.

Dr. Patton, meanwhile, did not sit. He set the bags of food down on the coffee table and made a beeline to the kitchen to grab plates and silverware.

“What’s this?” Virgil asked, glancing at the bags after plopping down on the couch next to Mr. Dr. Sanders.

“It’s from that pasta place we saw just opened down the street while moving you two in. I thought we could try it out and see if it’s your new favorite,” Dr. Patton answered from the kitchen.

“Do they have chicken parmesan?” Virgil asked. He’d already leaned forward to open one of the bags.

“Yes,” Dr. Patton said, amused as he re-entered the living room. “They do have chicken parmesan. It’s in the container at the bottom of that bag.”

“I’ll get drinks,” Roman offered. “We have a 2-liter bottle of Dr. Pepper and the juice Dr. Patton brought. I’ll bring those and some cups.”

“Thank you, Roman,” Dr. Patton said with a smile.

Virgil was busy dishing out a plate of ravioli and breadsticks for Mr. Dr. Sanders when Roman returned. Roman could tell by Mr. Dr. Sanders’ face that he wasn’t enthused about not being trusted to make his own plate, but he was indulging Virgil by allowing this anyway.

Dr. Patton had gotten double the amount of food needed for the 4 of them even considering Roman’s need for extra calories and Virgil’s willingness to gorge himself on pasta. So, there were a lot of leftovers to be packed away into Roman’s refrigerator once they were finished. Roman and Dr. Patton handled clean-up while Virgil and Mr. Dr. Sanders argued good naturedly over the movie choice.

“Thanks for inviting us,” Dr. Patton said in a low voice that was almost drowned out by the water he was running to rinse the plates. “I think it’s doing them both some good. More than you two coming over to see us even.”

“Yeah,” Roman agreed. That’s all they spoke about it, turning to lighter subjects like Roman’s classes and Dr. Patton’s latest read.

Virgil and Mr. Dr. Sanders managed to settle on the movie Back to the Future eventually. Virgil had stacked pillows on the coffee table so Mr. Dr. Sanders could more comfortably sit with his leg elevated.

Only 10 minutes into the movie, Virgil had already fallen asleep against Mr. Dr. Sander’s shoulder. It was only 7:30pm (and Virgil usually stayed up past midnight), but it wasn’t that much of a surprise. Roman had found that man sleeping in much weirder places at much weirder times and they’d only lived together for a week.

What was surprising was when Roman glanced over near the end of the movie and found that Mr. Dr. Sanders had fallen asleep as well.

Roman and Dr. Patton discussed it in the kitchen about an hour after the movie had ended, and eventually decided to let them sleep. Dr. Patton had to go home and let Missy out but told Roman to call him if at any point Mr. Dr. Sanders woke up and needed to come home.

Before he left, he grabbed the purple blanket Virgil always favored and threw it over both of them.

Virgil and his father slept through the night like that until Dr. Patton arrived back at the apartment with breakfast and coffee the next morning.

Want to read more? Click below!

Labeled Master Post.

My Masterpost.