#But I think he prefers as little meddling as possible

[flies-over-butter]

Sam’s whole deal is of him not being overwritten by another person. It would be cruel of me to fit in his shoes and replace his identity.

Anyways he’s narratively doomed lol, 7.

you are personally and directly hit by a bus¹ and isekai-ed, via resurrection, into the body of the main character your most recent WIP

reblog and tell me: on a scale of 1–10, how screwed are you right now?

¹ this is, transparently, a plot device, so if you are about to tell me "joke's on you, I never leave my fifteenth floor apartment!" then you may rest assured it will have tremendous comedic value when the bus is launched into the sky and crashes through your apartment wall to flatten you anyway

[chuluoyi]

jealousy, jealousy...

- nanami kento x reader

your husband seems to be immune to jealousy, and you've pretty much convinced yourself that he just doesn't have it in him... or does he?

genre/warnings: crack, fluff, jealous!nanami (he is in denial), implied suggestive content, mentions of pregnancy, gojo cameo (i just can't pass up the chance of him annoying the heck out of nanami ahaha)

note: based on this ask, this is a little continuation to the secret wife! and this is in the same universe as love entries so gojo is married to the love entries reader! :)

general masterlist

By all means, Nanami Kento is not a jealous man.

He knows his worth. And he knows you. Out of all people, you wouldn't try anything with anyone.

Even more so with Ino. He knows him too, and there is just no way.

So... he really shouldn't get riled up, especially when it was his shitty senior who tried to set him on fire—

"It's still beyond me, how you managed to bag her," Gojo remarked with a bark of snort. Both of them shared the same table in this high-end bar, an afterparty for the school's graduation, but Nanami was seriously considering to move after Yaga left earlier until this clown came. "And keep her a secret too. I mean, that's so foul! If I were your wife, I'd divorce you on the spot."

Nanami threw him a pointed look. "The feeling is mutual. I feel bad for her for putting up with you too. And please don't be gross and say things like you being my wife. It's appalling."

Gojo's wife being his close friend and former classmate was what foul, Nanami thought. Sure, he would acknowledge Gojo's relentless efforts, but still, anyone willing to be this shameless paintbrush's wife must lead a really daring life.

The strongest sorcerer rolled his eyes. "Nah, I'll have you know that my married life is full of bliss. I have a proof, look at my—"

"If you want to show me hickeys, I'll seriously report you for harassing me."

And to that, Gojo merely whined and pursed his lips, and Nanami finally had some peace. He really entertained the thought of going back, because Gojo wasn't exactly a fun company, and this was getting late, until…

"Hey, Ino—the one who always follows you around," Gojo suddenly said. "Whoa, you're letting him close to your wife too, huh?"

Nanami whipped his head to where you were, and true to what Gojo said, you were indeed there, talking animatedly to his junior.

You were all smiles, and Ino was every bit as excited as you were. There was nothing remotely wrong with how you were conversing. You two looked like a pair of really, really good friends.

Ever since word of your marriage got out and became common knowledge, you've been receiving the kind of attention that Nanami wasn't sure he preferred. While he hadn't intended to keep it a secret, he certainly felt that a more private life was preferable.

But the thing was… weren't you too close with him? If it were up to him, Ino could've had at least two steps back. What were you discussing anyway?

"You're a lax husband, Nanamin, heh," Gojo whistled, totally grinning because he won this fight. "I know you probably think it's harmless, but a puppy is still a dog, you know~"

A puppy... is what?

That night, that phrase was what going through in his mind over and over as he chugged down his drinks.

No way, no way... It must have been because he had too much to drink. He couldn't possibly!

The next time he felt that unpleasant feeling, it was on one night, at the comfort of your home.

Both of you had just finished watching a movie, still lounging on the sofa. You were blissfully humming, texting away on your phone at—Nanami looked at the clock—11 p.m.

Now, now, he wasn't one who would be checking your phone or such, but he couldn't deny the curiosity within him, because you weren't usually texting anyone this late at night.

"Hehe~" suddenly, you giggled and Nanami glanced at you in wonder. You seemed to be having fun.

Who... are you texting?

Despite telling himself he wouldn't meddle in your affairs, he gruffly cleared his throat. "Dear, it's late."

"Oh?" you whipped your head to him. "Oh, yeah..."

You were genuinely confused, your husband was folding his face as if he was sour of something. "Kento? What's wrong?"

But suddenly, his face lit up into a smile, kind of forced though. "Ah, nothing..." And suddenly he lifted you up from the sofa, making you almost yelp as you dropped your phone and wrapped your arms around his neck. "Time for bed."

However, what you didn't realize was that your phone's screen lit up just as the sender replied to your message, and Nanami caught a glimpse of it.

Ino.

A puppy is still a dog, you know~

The heck?

"Kento?" you asked again, and he immediately turned to you, unable to read the message. Still, his mind was reeling in many ways, and when he looked into your innocent, round eyes, suddenly he clicked his tongue, eyes slitting in dissatisfaction.

"Time for bed, dear."

Long story short, that night, your husband was somehow a little more aggressive than usual... even as he fondled you ever so softly at the end.

The third time, Nanami had enough.

He had just finished a mission when he got that call from Ino, informing him that you were at a clinic after nearly passing out.

Out of anyone else... how could you not call him first?!

He may be vexed, but worry was what clouded his mind the most. You were almost five months pregnant now, and to have this happening to you—

He walked in to find you lying on the small bed, your eyes lighting up when you saw him. "Kento..."

"What happened to you? Why didn't you call me?" his voice was rough, and your smile fell. You felt him gripping your hand tightly. "How can you—"

Ino, sensing his apprehension, suddenly intervened, "Uh, Nanami-san, it's not—"

Nanami turned to him sharply, causing him to gulp.

"We were... in a bakery when Y/N-san suddenly felt faint," the younger man explained. "Please don't be too hard on her."

"And why are you with my wife in broad daylight?"

"Kento, it's not what it looks like!" you squeezed his hand urgently. "We were just... trying to find a cake, you know..."

"...what?"

And that day, everything Nanami thought he knew was turned on its axis. Perhaps, if he wasn't thinking too much—if Gojo's words hadn't taken his mind, he wouldn't jump into conclusions this easily.

Your first wedding anniversary was just in a couple of weeks, and you had enlisted in Ino's help to find this one bakery that he swore sold only the best goods. Your texts to each other were solely about that—nothing more, nothing less.

"Aww, Kento~" you cooed as Nanami helped you into your shared bed once you got back home. "You got jealous, it's cute, and I'm happy~"

He huffed. "I was not jealous."

"Ehh, didn't look like that to me though~"

"Listen," he said, taking hold of your shoulders once he had seated you on the bed, looking straight into your eyes. "From now on, whatever you do... you have to contact me first, alright?"

"Oh—?"

"When you need something, when you don't feel well, when you feel like you might be in some kind of danger..." his tone was serious, emphasizing each word. "You have to reach out to me first. You don't go to Ino, Gojo, or anyone else—me. You go to me. I'm your husband, and I intend to fulfill that role well for you."

And he placed a hand on your tummy, gently caressing it. "And of course the father role for the baby too."

You clamped up, totally speechless. This unexpected development made your heart soar with a heap of giddiness.

"Yes!" Your smile was so wide and radiant that Nanami was sure he had started to blush too. Then you flung yourself at him, wrapping your arms around his neck in a hug. "And you know... you're already the best husband and soon-to-be father ever! So you don't have anything to worry about, okay?"

Ah, how nice. Nanami chuckled as he placed his hand on the small of your back.

"Mhm, and from now on, I'll take charge of our anniversary. You only have to take it easy, alright?"

And when you giggled, he thought having you in his embrace like this was enough to satisfy him—after all, he was a simple man.

Epilogue

"I know even Nanami gets jealous! Heh, heh, heh~"

Gojo laughed crisply, and Shoko snorted as they listened to Ino recount the story, with the latter scratching his head uncomfortably.

"I really didn't mean anything, and now I feel kinda bad," the younger man said, his head dropping. "Nanami-san seemed upset too..."

"Not many things can get under his skin," Shoko remarked. "I really thought he'd be more rational, but having an expecting wife must've taken quite a toll on him too."

"Nah, don't find more excuses, Shoko! Now is time to pay up~!"

As Shoko grumbled and Ino was lost in his own thoughts, a loud cough suddenly echoed behind them.

"Gojo-san... Ieiri-san..." Nanami leveled his unamused gaze on them, his glasses glinting in the light, causing the two gulp. "What are you two doing?"

[kingkatsuki]

Imagining Mitsuki trying to play matchmaker

And maybe she’s done that before, thrown girls at her son hoping he’ll hit it off with one of them and give her grandchildren. But it just royally pisses him off and he wants nothing to do with any of them. Then maybe she gives up for a while

But booooyyyyy oh boy, if you’ve caught his eye and she notices? She may not have introduced you, but she’ll make it happen. Just trying to help him out ya know?

She’d have to be as subtle about it as possible though. I could see him pushing you away just to spite her, even if he was head over heels for you.

I got a little carried away talking about this, but I just love the idea of Mitsuki meaning well, but never quite getting it right.

Warnings: Mitsuki tries to play matchmaker.

Word Count: 1.6k.

It isn’t that Mitsuki wants to force him into a relationship, she means well. She doesn’t like the thought of him coming home to an empty apartment each night, especially because she’s one of the few people who know about his night terrors. She’s been on the receiving end of many a call at four in the morning where he’s calling to make sure everything’s okay, or hearing him as a young man screaming in the night when he wakes up from another one of those nightmares. And although she’s taught him well, never needing to learn to cook, clean or use a washing machine— some companionship can’t hurt.

There was a time that Mitsuki thought that Bakugou wasn’t searching for love— that he’d already found it. His cheeks turning a violent red when she’d suggested that he was dating Kirishima, immediately reassuring him that she wouldn’t love him any less and that she’s happy he’s found someone as Bakugou tried to set her straight.

It isn’t that she ignores Bakugou when he says he’s not looking. She’s just worried, and maybe she’s right. Maybe he is lonely, and could use someone to help fill that void between work and sleep.

A mother can always tell, after all.

But Mitsuki’s methods can be a little unorthodox. Masaru tries to tell her not to meddle, that their son will find love when he wants to. On his terms, when he’s good and ready. But now he’s pushing thirty, not even a tabloid based rumour about a girlfriend and she starts to get antsy.

The window for grandchildren is slowly closing, and the hope is diminishing so of course she has to take matters into her own hands. It’s for Bakugou’s benefit, it’s like she’s doing him a favour.

At first Mitsuki is trying to set him up with someone based on attributes, wealth, success, career goals. Even though it’s difficult trying to find someone as motivated and strong as her son, she knows there are thousands upon thousands of women out there that would love to date him.

And poor Bakugou would prefer to be doing anything else with his time, sitting in his boxers playing video games and sipping a beer sounds far better than a twelve course dinner with portions so small he’s got to cook at home after. Especially with women he could care less about, listening to them drone on at him about their meaningless lives while he picks at his hors d'oeuvre two courses in.

No matter how perfect these women seem on paper, how compatible they are based on personality tests and star signs the dates never work out.

When this tactic doesn’t work, Mitsuki still won’t give up. Working in the fashion industry for as long as she has means she’s got a phone book full of gorgeous women. Personalities may not match up, but however bias it may sound she knows her son is an attractive man. So it’s easy to scroll through her contacts to find an array of women who would jump at the chance of a date with the Number Two Hero (also another benefit she slips in to conversation).

Bakugou tugs at the black tie around his neck as he stands awkwardly in the corner of another one of his mothers networking parties. Wondering how at 29 he’s still subjected to this kind of misery, thinking this would have stopped well into his teenage years. Groaning internally when he can see her out of the corner of his eye dragging a pretty young woman towards him. He knows the drill, knows exactly what that old hag is up to as she gives him a warning glare that only he can see. Turning to the poor girl with a faux sincere smile as she introduces her to him, her hand tightening around his forearm in warning as he offers his hand out to the poor girl.

But as quickly as Mitsuki arrived she’s gone, pretending to wave at someone in the crowd as she excuses herself and leaves Bakugou standing alone with this woman. Listening to her begin to rattle off ad campaigns or endorsements she’s been involved in like he gives a fuck, and talking about how many offers she’s received for her next one. It’s all he can do not to tell her that he doesn’t care and walk off as he notices that old hag watching from across the room as he throws back his whiskey and excuses himself to the bar. At least there’s enough alcohol to drown out the pain and suffering his mother is currently inflicting on him.

Mitsuki’s quick to join him, wine glass in hand, as she asks what he thinks and gushes about how pretty and perfect she is.

“Yeah? So why don’t you date ‘er then?” Bakugou scoffs as his mother rolls her eyes and he can tell if there were fewer people in the room she would’ve hit him upside the head by now.

It’s exhausting.

Groaning as he collapses into bed to find one new text message from the girl he’d been introduced to hours earlier. Knowing that his interfering mother had clearly given his phone number out— again.

But when perfect matches, and pretty faces don’t work Mitsuki changes tactic. After that, it’s just anyone.

Bakugou could be saying thank you to a girl in a coffee shop whilst he’s out running errands and Mitsuki is asking if she wants to go on a date with her son— she already had a boyfriend. Or the kind waitress at lunch who gave him a little extra spice in his ramen— she wasn’t interested in men. And even one time where Bakugou stopped to let a lady onto the train before him— she ended up posting about it all over social media before he’d even arranged the first date.

Deep down, there’s never anyone Bakugou truly wants. Dates are done out of obligation, and spending a few hours taking someone out for food or drinks means his mother is off his back for a few weeks or a few months depending on how well he can hide the immediate break up.

It’s a few months later when Bakugou realises the true lengths of how far his mother is willing to go to get him married off. He’s given a short, curt answer about his last break up. A “relationship” that Mitsuki thinks lasted for six months, but really there wasn’t even a third date. He’s out for drinks with the guys after work when Mina shoves her phone in his face, drunkenly squealing about how she didn’t realise he was trying to date people right now. And Bakugou didn’t realise himself— grabbing the phone from her as he assessed the profile. Thinking it was just another scam account trying to con lonely, desperate women out of their money, but he notices it. Pictures uploaded to the profile that only his mother has access to, key words that she’s used on many occasions to describe him.

That old hag. He groans, passing the phone back to Mina as he steps out of the bar to call his mother. Hearing the disappointment in her tone when he says he’s not interested. She doesn’t even try to hide the fact she made the profile, telling him there’s hundreds of women replying to his page. That he can have his pick of any of them if he wants to— but it just doesn’t feel right?

Until there’s you.

And there’s almost something about you that makes Mitsuki not try, because however much she loves and adores her son you’re almost too good for him? You exude happiness, positivity and love. And Bakugou is well, Bakugou.

And somehow you get together and you just work? Like there’s some sort of gravitational pull navigating you into each others orbit. And everything is just easy.

It’s not like expensive dinners, formalities and pretense. It’s comfortable, safe, warm. When Bakugou finds his place with you, he wonders how he ever spent so many years alone. Now he can’t ever imagine life without you, and Mitsuki is shocked when he appears at the door with you for the first time. Because for the first time, her son looks genuinely happy.

The most positive thing about it is now she no longer has to try and play matchmaker for Bakugou, the hard work is finally over. And now she has far more things she can annoy him with instead— like grandchildren and marriage.

And although she may hate to admit it, she’s happy that her son could pick a better match for himself than she ever could. No matter how much she insists that if she’d met you first she would’ve immediately set you two up on a date.

Bakugou finally found his own happiness in you.

But just because she no longer has to play matchmaker, doesn’t mean she won’t try to organise your wedding, your first home, your first child. And you better be prepared for her slightly unorthodox methods for that too— as she buys you pretty lingerie for birthdays, Christmas, Valentines—

“You can’t buy my wife lingerie for valentines, you old hag!”

“Maybe if you’d marry her she’d actually be your wife, you little brat. You should be grateful I’m trying to help.”

And oysters being the main course when she invites you over for dinner—

“They’re a natural aphrodisiac, you know”

“You can’t talk about sex so openly when we’re eating, you old hag. Jesus—”

Most family dinners include Masaru offering you a large glass of wine in the kitchen as you watch your spouses argue together.

But deep down Bakugou is just grateful that you stick around even though Mitsuki is almost a third wheel in your relationship. But you make the perfect team, and together you can handle anything— even his mother.

[bvidzsoo]

You belong to me

◿Mobster!Hongjoong◸ 

TW: cursing, violence, death, gun, suggestive

Word count: 3,3k

A/N: How do I stop the grip Ateez has on me?? What do you mean Hongjoong posts some pictures and I get a story idea?? Ugh, anyways, this is just a short drabble because why is Kim Hongjoong so hot and what is his latest Instagram post of his??

           The strobing lights of the club were blinding for a few seconds to the newcomers, their eyes forced to quickly adjust to the dim yellowish lightning and the strong pink, purple, and red led lights. They were strung around the club, overhead, lighting up every area of the luxurious place, but they were the strongest on the stage, where dancers walked around and performed using whatever instrument they preferred as props. Some nights I enjoyed pole dancing, but most nights I liked it when I could improvise, dance freely and get lost to the feeling of the freedom music provided. Perhaps my job of choice wasn’t ideal nor well-liked by most people, especially not by my parents, but it paid well and helped me get by quite decently.

It took a little while to get used to the lack of clothing and the hungry of those watching, but in no-time I found myself enjoying the attention, the cheers, the loud howls after my performances…and perhaps the most I enjoyed was the pay check each evening, and the bills men desperate for attention and the touch of a woman would slip into my thin panties or obnoxiously short shorts. The club was in the high-end of the city, only wealthy and influential men visited, courtesy to Kim Hongjoong. A scarily rich and affluential man, well known for his crazed behavior and dangerous affairs with gangs downtown. He was the boss of the underdogs, the man everyone avoided if possible and only got involved with if only very necessary. He was the owner of the club and he took his job very seriously, treating his employees with respect and care, always checking up on them. Misbehaving wasn’t allowed inside his club, and he punished those who didn’t understand this by using creative methods. I had the misfortune of walking in on him waterboarding a man, saying something about how he didn’t respect his end of the deal, before Hongjoong’s eyes found me and I was ushered out of his office, his eyes conveying a silent warning to stay quiet about what I had seen. And I had no intention of telling anyone what I had witnessed, afraid to meet a similar fate to that man.

Kim Hongjoong was someone whom I feared, but also respected. He was diligent and worked hard, at the end of each shift checking in with his performers, making sure they weren’t forced into doing something they didn’t want, checking their bodies for any injuries. At first, I had assumed that he paid more attention to me because I was new, because he didn’t fully trust me yet, and because he was keeping an eye on me to make sure I was being ethical, but upon closer inspection, I’ve come to the realization that Kim Hongjoong didn’t follow every performers steps with watchful eyes, he didn’t buy them drinks once their shifts were over, and he most certainly didn’t arrange his personal driver to drive them home at the crack of dawn, when the streets were deserted and dangerous for a young woman, like myself, to be walking home alone. And Kim Hongjoong certainly didn’t hold his other performers lower backs as he walked them back to their dressing rooms, throwing clothes at them and demanding to cover themselves up. I had assumed there might have been some favoritism towards me as I drew in clients which were filthy rich, but Kim Hongjoong quickly ruined that thought when I overstepped a boundary and meddled with his personal business. He was quick to threaten me that he’d ruin my life if I went running to the police, making me feel small and stupid for even trying to blackmail him. I don’t know what I had been thinking when I did that, but if Hongjoong had paid attention to me up until that point, after my foolish threat he became overbearing, always two steps behind me, and eyes fixed on me during my shifts. It was scary and irritating at the beginning, but I grew used to it after a year of his unceasing behavior and learned to live with the man’s antics. There were times when we ran into each other at the most random places, places where Hongjoong looked completely out of place adorned in his crazily expensive tailored suit, and sleeked back hair. One of said places was the grocery store across from my apartment complex, completely startling me into oblivion as I had been buying some milk, his reflection appearing behind me in the glass door as I had closed it. What was even more unusual was the way he told me I had twenty minutes to get ready before we’d be going out, to where, he didn’t mention. But it turned out he took me out to dinner at a very fancy restaurant. Not many words were exchanged between the two of us during the dinner, but the food had been good nonetheless and neither one of us brought it up ever again.

Tonight hadn’t been any usual, I had walked inside the club around eight in the evening, going to my dressing room and dressing up for the night, doing my makeup and hair. When I pushed the door open an outfit had been laid out on my couch and my eyebrows furrowed as I took in the schoolgirl outfit, slightly uncomfortable having to wear it, but when I noticed a note on top of it and signed as KH¸ I knew I didn’t have a choice but to wear it. And my shift had started out as usual, I was up on the stage and performing by ten o’clock, putting on my best performance and charming men left and right. The cheers were louder than usual and I was requested to put on a second show, surprised by the incessant attention, but not completely bothered as I knew the pay check would be higher tonight. Of course, I didn’t miss the way Kim Hongjoong watched both of my performances, leaning against the bar stool, hip resting against it, and a glass filled with whiskey gripped in his hand as his eyes trailed over my body multiple times, following every move of mine. But the night didn’t stop there, and I had gotten my first ever request for a private performance. The others who I worked with had plenty experience with that, but it had been my first time and I was feeling nervous. Yeji had been nice enough to walk me through the steps of what this meant and what was required of me, and she made sure to repeat the rules multiple times, making me repeat them after her. The private rooms were small and dimly lit, a huge sofa inside with a coffee table in front of it. There was a stereo and a pole in the corner of the room.

The man who had request for a private dance was gruffy and on the older side, but he was well dressed and looked put together as he sipped on his expensive champagne, grinning when I had walked inside. I pushed down my nerves and ignored the slight tremble of my limbs as I thanked the man for the request and stated the rules firmly, reminding him multiple times that he wasn’t allowed to touch me unless I gave him permission, before I put on the music and started dancing, using the pole as well. It felt weird performing for one man only and I found myself uncomfortable as the man watched me with hungry eyes, his grip on the glass tightening with each passing minute, making me hope that the booked time would be soon over. Half an hour wasn’t much at all, but it felt like an eternity, and I had to force myself to imagine the man I was dancing for was someone else…someone younger, someone more handsome, someone who’s smile was crazed and his cat-like eyes burned holes into your skull, gazing deeply into your soul. When the music finally stopped, I felt like I could breathe again, desperate to get out and away from the eyes of the man, who was licking his lips hungrily as I stepped away from the pole and bowed slightly, going up to the coffee table to collect my payment, but as I reached out, his warm hand grabbed my wrist tightly.

“I’ll pay twice as much for a lap dance.” I was stunned for a second as I looked at the man, softly trying to pry my wrist out of his hold.

“You paid for half an hour, sir, I’m afraid we part ways here.” I kept my voice leveled and the man didn’t seem to appreciate what he heard as he scoffed.

“Twice is not good enough for you? Fine, then I’ll pay thrice the amount I just paid right now.” And then, a nasty smirk spread on his lips, as he unexpectedly yanked on my wrist, making me fall onto his lap, “Don’t be shy, baby girl, I don’t bite. Unless you want me to.”

I felt disgust wash over me and I gasped, trying to push myself off him, but he had sneaked an arm around my middle and squeezed me to himself. My skin tingled and my stomach flipped, bile rising up into my throat. I tried to keep the scowl off my face, but I couldn’t help it as my eyes hardened.

“I stated clearly you are not allowed to touch me, so let go of me, right now.” I demanded, trying to push myself off of him again as the man just scoffed and looked at me with an amused expression.

“Really? I think you do want me to touch you, baby girl. You’re just playing hard to get, but you don’t have to do that with me, I already want you badly.” As if to prove a point, he bucked his hips upwards and disgust coursed through my veins and showed on my face as I felt his hard-on, balling my hands up into fists, ready to pound them into his face.

“Release me, right now.” I snapped, voice harsher than ever before as I felt my hands trembling, hating the smug look on the motherfucker’s face as he went to push my hair behind my shoulders, but I quickly slapped his hand away, hard.

“Don’t be rude, I just paid you, bitch.” He hissed and I chuckled.

“And I said let go of me, you old fuck.” I hissed, squaring the man up. Before he could open his mouth to say anything back, I heard the curtain behind me separating us from the rest of the club pulled open harshly, and a familiar voice sounding eerily calm.

“Was the lady not clear enough the first time?” I could hear the sneer in Kim Hongjoong’s voice and I turned my head, taken aback by the dark look on his face, the harsh clenching of his jaw and the handgun in his left hand. I tried not to let my surprise show as I shoved at the man again, but he still didn’t let go of me. It was getting frustrating and I raised my hand and slapped him, momentarily taking him off guard as I swiftly slipped out of his loosened grip.

“You bitch!” The old man yelled and stood, but didn’t get far as Hongjoong pointed his gun at the man, an amused smirk appearing on his lips. He walked further inside the room, with his right hand in his pocket, and came to a stop next to me as I had put distance between the man and myself. He chuckled as his eyes rested on me for a few seconds, lazily looking back at the older man.

“You said you’ll pay thrice the amount? I don’t see the money—”

“And you won’t see it, fucker, I’m not paying this bitch at all.” And the man snatched the money, fallen on the couch now, up with anger written all over his face as Hongjoong chuckled, and suddenly I felt his right arm draping over my shoulders, yanking me into his side. I stumbled slightly and gasped quietly, surprised by Hongjoong’s actions.

“That’s very unfortunate,” Hongjoong sighed dramatically and I felt his fingers rubbing my shoulder, a sly grin slipping onto his lips, “I must demand you apologize to Y/N for disrespecting her and clearly not following the rules.”

The man chuckled and eyed Hongjoong as if he were crazy, “You wish, fucker. This club is a piece of shit, I’m going to ruin you and your shitty ass business.”

“For somebody your age your vocabulary is quite lacking.” The man’s face turned red at the insult, prompting Hongjoong to chuckle as I tried to hide my own amused smirk, staring the old man down. Hongjoong’s hand suddenly started slipping low, down to my middle until it stopped at my waist and suddenly he was looking at me, eyes glazed over with a crazy glint in them, lips pulled into a grin resembling that of a Chesire cat’s, “Tell me, gorgeous, what should I do with him now?”

My mind was blank as I stared into Hongjoong’s deep eyes, getting lost in them, feeling drawn to him as if he were a magnet, “Whatever you wish, Hongjoong.”

A wide, satisfied, grin appeared on his lips as he bit his lower lip, eyes glinting in the dim light, “Anything?”

I gulped and found myself breathless, his expensive cologne invading my senses and his warmth making my skin warm in the best possible way, “You are the boss.”

Hongjoong chuckled and looked satisfied as he turned his head to face the older man, clicking his tongue as he shook his head at him, “Look at you…I hope you said your goodbyes before coming here, because you won’t be doing any talking no more with that foul mouth of yours, you old pig.”

And Hongjoong raised his arm, the safety off as he pulled the trigger, the gun silent, yet still making my ears ring as I jumped in Hongjoong’s hold, squeezing my eyes shut. He had shot the man, pulled the trigger like it meant nothing, as if taking away a life meant nothing to him. I felt myself tremble as Hongjoong’s hold tightened around me and I was being moved, my back turned to the dead man as I felt hands cupping my face, “Open your eyes, gorgeous. Look at me.”

I gulped and took a shaky breath, body trembling as I forced myself to look at Hongjoong, taken aback by the cold expression on his face. He looked unphased, almost content, as he caressed my cheeks, leaning dangerously close as his eyebrows furrowed, he was no longer holding the gun, “Nobody but me is allowed to touch you, gorgeous, do you understand?”

I gulped and nodded wordlessly, trying to ignore the stench of blood which permeated the room suddenly, the hairs on my arms standing as my muscles were tense, “Use your words, Y/N.”

“I understand.” I whispered, voice shaky, as I stared into Hongjoong’s eyes, a pleased expression crossing his features. He hummed before suddenly whistling, startling me as Hongjoong released me, but grabbed the back of my head to prevent me from turning around, as if I had doing that in mind. Suddenly, four men walked inside, men I haven’t seen before, and Hongjoong glanced at them and nodded behind me wordlessly, the men springing into action. They walked past us and I realized they were here to take care of the dead man, but we didn’t stick around for longer as Hongjoong suddenly turned and started leading us out of the room and towards my dressing room, making me nervous as I tried to ignore the whirling thoughts that I was witness to my boss killing someone. What if the police come searching for the dead man? What if they question me? I knew Hongjoong wouldn’t hesitate killing me too, the thought made it a bit hard to breathe, but I just kept stiffly walking as Hongjoong’s hand slipped to my nape, veering me around effortlessly and away from the curious eyes as he pushed me inside my dressing room and closed the door with a loud slam. I jumped and detached myself from him, putting distance between our bodies as I whirled around, looking at Hongjoong with wide eyes. He was smirking as he leaned against the door, rubbing his chin as he placed his hand in his pocket. I gulped and waited for him to say something, but he just took out his pack of cigarettes and lit a cigar, inhaling deeply before exhaling slowly. Our eyes locked together and I gulped, suddenly feeling exposed.

“Let’s be honest with each other, Y/N.” Hongjoong spoke up after he took another drag of his cigar, “Will I have to worry about you rattling to others about what you just witnessed?”

I gulped, lacing my fingers together in front of myself, “Will you kill me if I did?”

“Of course.” Hongjoong answered without hesitation and my gut twisted, hands suddenly trembling again. I gulped and nodded, letting him know that I understood.

“Then I won’t say anything to anyone.” I found myself quietly saying, “But you have to promise to help me out when the police gets involved.”

Hongjoong chuckled, and took another long drag of his cigar as he suddenly pushed off the door, and walked towards me, “Oh, gorgeous, do not worry about the police. Even they know not to meddle with my business. This will be our little secret; can you keep it?”

He blew the smoke in my face and I gulped, trying to not cringe from the smell, “I’ll—I promise to keep this a secret.”

“Lovely.” Hongjoong whispered as he threw his cigar on the floor and stepped on it, making my eyes widen as he burned out the carpet, but he seemed uncaring of it as he placed one finger under my chin and tilted my head up, looking me in the eyes, “Private shows are off limits from now on, to everyone. Understood, gorgeous?”

“Yes.” I muttered, and my breath stilled in my lungs as Hongjoong leaned incredibly close, his lips ghosting over mine as he smirked.

“These men will be never able to offer you what I can give you.” And Hongjoong pressed his lips against mine, harsh and hungry as they slipped open while his hand slipped to my neck, wrapping around it as his body was pressed flush against mine. I gasped into the kiss as I felt his tongue pushing past my lips, exploring my mouth, groaning into it as Hongjoong devoured my lips ferociously, walking us backwards. I grabbed the sides of his suit and held onto him, blindly letting Hongjoong walk me anywhere, his sweet taste blooming in my mouth as he sucked on my tongue, my fingers tangling in his black hair, the back of my legs hitting the sofa behind me suddenly. Hongjoong quickly cut the kiss short and pushed me down by my neck, making me look up at him in confusion as he smirked, easing me down into the cushions. My heart was thundering in my chest as his eyes burned with want and passion, and suddenly he was kneeling in front of me, gripping my thighs as my skin flamed, making me gulp as my hands clenched into fists at my sides, chest heaving. He slowly peeled my legs open and yanked me lower on the sofa, biting his lower lip as his eyes followed the smooth skin of my legs, stopping just where my skirt had ridden up. He licked his lips, a hungry look in his eyes as he looked up at me, leaning closer.

“Let me show you how queens get treated, gorgeous.”

Masterlist

[dontsh0vethesun]

christmas lights and tension

part two of home for christmas

natasha romanoff x reader

The hallmark movie inspired Christmas story that nobody asked for.

Natasha Romanoff fell out of love with Christmas, but perhaps a certain someone could help her find the festive magic once again.

Coming home to her small hometown from her life in New York City, the children’s author is reunited with the people of her past; some are happier to see her than others.

But, will rekindled relationships inspire the Christmas story she’s struggling to write? Or will she go home empty handed?

fluff, friendship, an attempt at humour, cringe of course, tension and bickering, meddling gyals, feelings good and bad, found family

wc: 2.9k | part one | part three

The night prior played on in your head the entire journey to work. You thought about the pathetic way she could still make your heart beat with just a look of her eyes into yours and how, even after all this time, a brief closeness still made the hairs on the back of your neck stand straight. As though, they too, just wanted her nearer. 

It was aggravating, the way you wanted her within your periphery despite the hate you’d accumulated with regards to the redhead in her time away. Since she left with little goodbye. 

The festive ornaments Wanda had decorated the cafe door with dared to annoy you when you let the door shut heavily behind you and each motion you went through was carried out with more force than necessary. You loathe how easily Natasha had gotten beneath your skin. With just one evening leaving you in such a way, you dare to think what else was in store. The mere fact only sets your plan in stone - you have to avoid her as much as possible. She’ll be gone in a week, it’ll be a simple task to execute. 

–

When Sam and Wanda arrived they only had to share a glance, darting their eyes towards where you huffed and puffed at each menial job you carried out. The annoyance bounced off you and they knew better than to drag you into a conversation. 

They let you stew in your Romanoff-stained head, plastering on your best customer service grins before retreating to make their orders with an obvious and venomous taste left on your tongue. 

Pietro, however, was the allegorical spanner in the works. The blonde hurried into the building when he knew you’d reached the afternoon lull, an expectant smile on his face for the gossip he was waiting to hear from your lips. Wanda had warned him, and she did so again with a muttered scolding beneath her breath. She’d told him all about it last night - of course. But he wanted your side of the ongoing feud (that had been significantly lacking ignition for longer than he’d prefer).

Despite what his sister may say, he will not deprive himself of hearing your angry retelling. 

“So,” he began with a playful lilt to his vaguely accented voice. “Anything interesting happen last night?”

He merely laughed at the glare you shot his way, a trait you’d grown to despise after all of these years. 

“I told you not to say anything,” Wanda sighed, slapping his hand away from the cookie he tried to help himself to. “She’s angry,” she finished with a stage whisper and a nowhere-near-subtle gesture to where you stood beside her, 

“I’m not angry,” you muttered with a roll of your eyes that proved just the opposite. 

“So you definitely didn’t almost break my favourite mug, huh?” Sam laughed, still milking the emotional wound of the morning. It wasn’t broken, which you had assured him multiple times, but the near fatality was enough for him to hold against you for the foreseeable. 

“It’s an ugly mug, Sam,” you mumbled, letting a huff of a laugh break through your tough exterior at his overly dramatic gasp. 

“Only an angry person would say such a hurtful thing,” he frowned. 

“I’m not angry. I’m totally over it. One hundred percent, completely, over it.”

You couldn’t even convince yourself, let alone the lifelong friends who stared back at you incredulously. You could just about kick yourself with the effect she somehow has on you. You could practically suffocate in it. 

“Right,” Pietro nodded, seemingly agreeing with the others to feign the slightest belief in your statement. “So last night was good?”

“It was great,” you nodded, possibly giving yourself whiplash with the intensity. “Right, Wanda?”

“Yes. Definitely,” she agreed. “Very, um, tension-free and comfortable.”

“Yeah. It’s not as though somebody I haven’t spoken to for years was just staring at me all night,” you grumbled. 

“Someone you’re totally over.”

“Exactly. Someone who has no hold on me at all. In fact, I actually forgot about the time she blocked my number, moved away and just never talked to me again.” 

“So the annual Christmas Eve party at the Romanoff’s is still good to go?” Sam chimed in. 

“Oh - I actually have plans that day,” you stumbled out - completely blanking on the tradition you’ve all kept up since high school.

It was an unconventional family you’d all found yourselves a home within; what began as a friendship group sitting together at lunch turned into gatherings during the holidays. Melina and Alexei had become parental figures for a few of you; large gatherings were held for all holidays celebrated within the social circle you’d accumulated, and the time you’d all spend together only grew you ever closer. 

When you were younger, the ‘adults’ would be forced into the kitchen whilst you had your own teenage gatherings in the living room. Yelena would sneak a bottle of vodka from her parent’s cupboard, Kate would supply pizza, and Kamala would always amuse you with the comic stories she’d write herself into. Maria had often fondly commented on her wish for you to just ‘go to a party and get the cops called on you for underage drinking’, but you were all happy with Monica bringing her telescope - her prized possession - to show you the stars. You’d all rather critique Sam’s baking endeavours and tease Carol about her weekly changing crushes on various cheerleaders. Watching Kate clumsily lose her balance in an attempt at a race against Pietro was your preferred way to spend a Friday night. 

You and Wanda would giggle at your friends, at the way Kamala would have to be practically carried home by her parents. She’d feign tipsiness and you’d all pretend you didn’t know it was just from all the Pepsi she’d drink. And then you’d gossip. Your favourite pastime for all these years, it was the pair of you against the world. She’d try to convince you of the obvious crush Natasha harboured for you, analysing each and every time she’d looked your way to see if you’d laughed at one of her jokes. Telling you of the eyes that constantly tried to find yours across a room as though she noted down each interaction - knowing her, she probably did. 

She’d told you for years that your feelings were mutual and just as you let yourself believe her, the girl that held your heart in the palm of her hand just took it with her to college. And then to New York. And now that she was here, you swear you could see it peeking out of her jean pocket. 

“Melina’s apple pie is literally your favourite,” Wanda spoke with a poke of her elbow into your side, knowing your stubbornness could easily subside if she had anything to do about it. 

“Just bring me a slice,” you grumbled. 

“No. You’re coming,” she returned with a shake of her head that never failed to put you in your place. “Besides, you’re over the Romanoff phenomena, right?”

“Right.”

And just as though the universe is desperate to see you in a fugue of embarrassment the bell above the coffee shop door sounded, and the hinges you always mean to tend to creaked, as the subject of your aching resentment sauntered in. You caught a brief glance of the soft smile that pulled at her lips as she looked around before you ducked out of view, hitting Wanda’s leg when she looked down at you with a laugh. 

“You’ve got a nice place here,” she spoke. You hate how much you still adore the rasp of her voice. 

“Yeah,” Wanda answered, you saw her nod from where you sat. And hid; your cowardice seemingly ever present only when it comes to her.  “We opened it a couple years ago.”

“She always said you’d open a shop here. I knew she’d do it.” You could hear the smile in her words and though Wanda is always on your team she couldn’t miss the fondness in Natasha’s eyes. The same glint from before; she made a mental note to tell you later. She does love romance after all, even if one half of the beloved couple is on her naughty list. She couldn’t completely let go of her matchmaking fantasies, even if she had to work with a friends-to enemies-to lovers debacle. 

You rest your chin on your tucked-up knees as you remember the day she’d walked with you through town, sharing a cup of ice cream whilst you spoke about your dreams for the future. You’d pointed at an empty space with a ‘for rent’ sign plastered to the window and claimed it would be yours, that you’d let Wanda decorate and give Natasha free coffees. She’d laughed and told you she’d write her books in the back corner and name a character after you. 

Neither of you mentioned the key elements of your desired futures. The presence of one another, sharing kisses and tender embraces. 

“My mom sent me,” you heard her say. “Something about cookies to have while we decorate? Apparently you come over to help?”

“You’d know that if you ever came back, Nat.” Wanda hadn’t meant to sound so harsh, she almost felt bad at the way the redhead nervously cleared her throat at the unspoken accusation but she couldn’t just forget the way she’d treated you. It was impossible to forget the way you only let her see you cry. 

“Yeah, I know,” she breathed. “It’s busy in New York, y’know? Deadlines and meetings,” she added, trailing off when she realised her excuses weren’t even good enough for herself. “I was hoping I’d bump into her actually, is she not here?”

“No, sorry,” Wanda lied seamlessly. “She had to go and chase up a delivery.”

“I guess I’ll see her tonight?”

“I’ll see if she can make it.”

–

She didn’t ‘see if you could make it’ at all. Each protest you made was debunked by persuasive words and puppy dog eyes she knew you couldn’t resist. You let any attempt she made of Natasha being a ‘changed woman’ glide right off of you, Wanda Maximoff’s belief in true love be damned. 

So, you were forced into attending the annual get-together where Melina sugarcoated her forced labour with promises of eggnog. She only enlists you to help because she knows Alexei and Yelena are less use than a chocolate teapot when it comes to festive decorations. 

You muttered beneath your breath as you dawdled your way to the front door, arms full with the box of cookies as requested (Sam’s own recipe), hoping to savour as much time as possible before you were thrust into close proximity with the woman you’d made it your mission to avoid. Wanda was orchestrating this on purpose, you’re sure. 

Before you’d even had time to fish the key out of your jacket’s pocket, the face you hoped not to see was smiling at you with the door opened wide enough to let you in. You didn’t let yourself pay attention to the familiar scent of the perfume she still seems to wear. 

“Hi, you made it,” Natasha smiled, taking the box from your hands, feeling the same pull as you when her fingers brushed against yours. 

“Yeah, I couldn’t let Yelena go without her cookies, could I?” you smirked, laughing when the aforementioned woman hurried over to take them from her sister. 

“Kate Bishop, I have acquired the goods,” she shouted through a mouthful of crumbs that you knew must’ve left a trail behind her on the carpet. 

“Wanda wasn’t sure you’d come.”

“Melina promised eggnog, of course I’m here,” you smiled, directing it towards the woman who approached you with a glass and a grin. She couldn’t help the twinge of hurt that washed through her at your obvious coolness towards her, how you hardly looked at her, though she couldn’t blame you for it. 

You were soon roped into hanging stockings along the fireplace with yours and the Maximoff’s still given a place. In hindsight, you wish less of your energy was focused on being on the opposite side of the room to Natasha and more on the sly whisperings between the women in the corner. 

It wouldn’t have been as much of a surprise when the two of you were given the task of fixing stringed lights on the porch. You could’ve wrestled Wanda to the ground at the way she laughed behind her hand at each subtle way you attempted to push the job into somebody else's lap. But their minds were made up and four pairs of eyes glinted with mischievous amusement when you begrudgingly made your way out into the cold Ohio evening. 

The yellowed light that filtered onto you both from within the house made her skin glow, her milky complexion just like cream. The kind that’d entice the swipe of your tongue across your bottom lip, wanting just a taste, but wanting to steer clear of its addictive elixir even more. You didn’t let her catch sight of your eyes tracing the side of her face whilst she attempted to unbind the tangled mess of lights bundled in her hold; mapping the contours of her jaw and the sharp turn it took as it dipped down to her exposed neck. You still knew each sporadic freckle and you chased a glimpse of each one before you darted your eyes elsewhere. 

It was confusing. How all those antipathetic emotions she stirred up within you, adding to the mixture with each passing year of being out of your life, were somehow joined by those old feelings flooding back. It all washed over you in a blearily muddled wave, filling each space it could find, bubbling and boiling, spitting out in ways that made you flinch. 

How could one woman cause you such upheaval? 

“Here,” she muttered, holding out the stringed lights that seemed to be in even worse condition than they had started with a scrunched up face of surrender. “I give up.”

You took them from her wordlessly, still hoping you could get this over with as quickly as possible. 

“Things like this take time, Natasha,” you spoke. Your voice was quiet and directed downwards with your chin against your chest as you picked apart the mess she’d handed you. “You can’t just expect it to unravel all perfectly just because you want it to.”

“Why do I feel like that has a double meaning?”

You only shrugged in response, weaving the wires with care so not to damage them further, getting there slowly but surely. 

“And here I was, hoping you’d talk to me tonight,” she murmured, scuffing her foot against the worn down wooden decking beneath her boot clad feet. 

“I don’t have much to say.”

“Alright.”

“Things don’t always happen the way you want them to, that’s all,” you breathed. “You can’t just come here and have it all fall in your lap all perfectly neat. Life doesn’t work like that.”

“Right, so this definitely isn’t about the lights,” she laughed. It was humourless and the second you dared to spare in her direction showed you the grimace that washed over her lips for just a moment before it faded again. 

“I don’t find any of this funny, Natasha. It’s a lot,” you sighed. “You being here after all of this time - after all that time I was just forgotten by you. You must be really dense if you’d expect me to just welcome you back with open arms.”

“I didn’t forget you,” she returned, brows furrowing at the way you truly believed that. “I could never just forget you.” 

“Then why’d you leave me behind?”

Any words that lay across the length of her tongue wouldn’t garner the courage to venture past her lips. Her mouth opened and closed. Opened and closed again. Words were never easy when it came to you. 

“I’m done,” you stated, doing all you could to push down the sting at her lack of reassurance. You felt foolish that, just for a moment,you’d thought that something heartfelt and profound would ease the ache. Sweet words spoken in her velvet-soft voice, saccharine enough to fix it all. You held out the neat and tangle-free length of string lights for clarification and she cleared her throat as she pulled her hands out of the front pockets of her jeans to take them from you. “Let’s just get this over with.”

The woman didn’t shy away from letting her sights linger on your body when she held the ladder still for you to climb. Still, she kept her hands away as much as she wanted to feel the solidity of you beneath them, only instructing you with words. 

“Move them a little to the left, maybe?”

“I know how to hang lights, Natasha,” you grumbled, straining the muscles of your arms to reach above you. 

“I’m sure you do but they’re uneven,” she bit back. 

“Whatever you say.” You rolled your eyes out of her sight whilst she snuck a peek at the exposed skin of your back where your shirt lifted. 

“Alright, now just hook them over the corner and we’re done,” she added, smirking at the dramatised groan you answered her with despite the tension in her jaw at the thick atmosphere between you. 

“If I’d known you’d back seat decorate, I would’ve got you to do it all,” you scoffed when you could finally make your way down from the stepladder. 

Neither of you acknowledged the hand she lay on your back, fingertips ghosting your cool skin with warmth that bit past the winter cold. Neither of you said anything about the way it stayed there. And you definitely didn’t admit to yourself that it left you willing its return when it drew away. 

Wanda was going to have a field day with this.

[ryuzakemo128]

The Blood Dragon

Pairing: Daemon Targaryen x Aelora Targaryen

Content Warning: Adult Themes. Dark Content. Targaryen Incest.

Triggers: Incest, Dubious Consent, Drama, Manipulation, Power Struggle.

Words: 1,460

Links: [Dividers] [Masterlist]

Summary: “Do I have your attention now, Prince Daemon?” Aelora purred. “Would you prefer if I had walked into your bedchamber naked?”

[Daemon's point of view]

Aelora looked at him, a stern look in her crimson eyes as she told her cousin to grow up, to get over his petty fears and insecurities. Her voice was like a whip crack, sharp, and stinging. It was a challenge that Daemon found thrilling and irritating all at once. He knew she was right, though. If he were going to play the Game of Thrones, he couldn't be a pawn forever.

“You can't expect to play it, if you don't know the rules, you also can't expect to be allowed to play it if you refuse to play by them.” Aelora repeated. “It’s like a game of chess, sometimes you have to sacrifice a chess piece on the board to get what you want.”

Daemon felt his jaw clench, but he couldn’t argue with her logic. He had been feeling stifled in the shadow of his brother, Viserys, for too long. The whispers in the halls of the Red Keep, the constant reminders that he was second in line for the Iron Throne and always would be, until Viserys changed his mind. His mind filled with the vile words from his hand, Otto Hightower.

He was replaced as heir to the iron throne by his niece, Rhaenyra Targaryen. Replaced by a woman half his age. He clenched his fists, rage pulsating through him, threatening to boil over. Pushed aside, dismissed, deemed unworthy by his brother and the meddling snake.

Unless something changed, something had to change, these thoughts buzzing around. They were driving him mad.

“Daemon.” Aelora whispered, snapping her fingers to get his attention, “You’re thinking too far ahead. You’re putting the cart before the horse.”

“What do you mean?” Daemon snapped, he didn’t mean to snap at her. It was just instinct, his temper wound him up so far, that he snapped at his cousin.

“Power, control and standing can come in many forms, some of those ways lie in what people already know. What if I could tell you, there is another way, a road less travelled and deemed treacherous. As they don’t understand it, nor did they ever seem to want to either.”

Aelora’s smooth voice, silk, whispered sweet nothings and dark promises into his ear, and her hand snaked around his waist, pulling him closer to her.

Aelora’s words were like a key unlocking a door he hadn’t realised was there. He gazed upon the slow forming smirk on her lips, her eyes gleaming with a mischief. Both alluring and alarming. She never looked at him like that before.

What changed? What did she have in mind? When did she start smelling like lavender? Is she trying to seduce me? When did she start wearing revealing attire such as this? She is trying to seduce me, isn't she? The way she smiles, the dress, the lavender perfume wafting into his nose, a scent known to help people relax. But why? Why now? Why me?

“Are you scared of me, cousin?” she whispered into my ear, a shiver ran down my spine as she continued, “Do you not like it when I take what I want? You said you liked it, though.”

Daemon's gaze snapped to hers, a mix of surprise and anger flickering in his eyes. “What are you playing at, Aelora?” he demanded, his voice low and dangerous.

“You wound me, cousin, suggesting that I am the one playing games? For all your intelligence, you can’t perceive the possible indication that I wanted to have amorous congress with you. Who else would write you those tiny little notes seeking comfort in the dead of night?”

Her hand traced a line-up his chest, sending a warm shiver through him. Her lips an inch away from his, “It seems you don't actually want to. So, I guess I won't. I’ll mosey my way down to Aegon and take his seed inside of me.”

Daemon’s eyes narrowed. The audacity! He grabbed her wrist, his grip firm. “You won’t go anywhere near him, do you understand?” He spat out through gritted teeth.

“What's a girl to do to get laid, Daemon?” she taunted, gripping his wrist, pulling him closer to her. Her warm breath on his cheek. “Did you expect me to go without for so long?”

Daemon felt his anger spike and his grip tightened on her wrist. “If you think for one moment I'd let you—”

“Fuck another man?” She finished for him. “Then why aren’t you doing it then? Hmm? I have offered myself to you over and over. Yet you're not looking at me. You're looking everywhere else.”

Then it dawned on him, the notes, the perfume, the dress, the long gazes in his direction, the rumours about her promiscuous ways spread around deliberately by her, it was all a facade. A cleverly crafted web of manipulation to get under his skin, to get him to react. And she had succeeded. He felt like a fool, but he also felt something else, something he hadn’t felt in a long time, something primal and raw.

Here she is now. Pulling him closer to her, like a captain pulling a sailor from a shipwreck, like a siren pulling a sailor into the depth of the sea.

Daemon’s hand loosened around her wrist, his anger dissipating into something else. He could feel the warmth of her body against his, her breath tickling his skin. Aelora’s eyes searched his, looking for something, anything, to prove that she had his full attention.

“Do I have your attention now, Prince Daemon?” Aelora purred. “Would you prefer if I had walked into your bedchamber naked?”

Daemon’s breath hitched in his throat. “What game are you playing, Aelora?” He tried to keep his voice steady, but it was clear that he was rattled.

“Is it really a game if I’m trying to get what I want?” Aelora whispered, inching closer to him. “Are you scared you will not like it, or are you afraid of liking it too much?”

Daemon's mind raced with conflicting thoughts, but his body betrayed him, his heart thumping in his chest. He stepped back, trying to put some distance between them, but Aelora followed, her eyes never leaving his. She reached up and traced a finger along his jawline, sending a jolt of heat through him.

He said, “I'm not scared of anything, least of all you, Aelora.” His voice was calm, but the tremor in his chest gave him away.

“Yet you're walking away from me.” Aelora pointed out, “So you must be.”

Daemon swallowed hard, trying to regain his composure. “I’m not walking away, I’m just—”

“Just what? Unable to handle a woman like me?” she taunted.

Daemon felt the blood rush to his face. He was not a man to be taunted, not by anyone, least of all by his own flesh and blood. He stepped closer to Aelora, his eyes blazing with a fiery determination that she had not seen before. “You think you can play me like one of your little instruments?”

“If I wanted to 'play' you, I wouldn't have been trying to get into bed with you.” Aelora snapped as she turned to leave his bedchamber.

Daemon's hand shot out and grabbed her arm, spinning her around to face him. “What do you want from me, Aelora?” His voice was a mix of anger and confusion.

Her lips firmly planted on his as soon as he touched her again, which took him by surprise. Aelora’s kiss was feverish, hungry, as if she had been starving for his touch. Her arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him closer, her body pressing into his with a need both undeniable, her hands exploring his body like it was a foreign country she hadn't been before.

Daemon’s resolve crumbled like the crumbling stones of Valyria, the warmth of her mouth melting his defences away. He had to admit, he enjoyed the thrill of the chase, the dance of power and seduction. But now, with Aelora in his arms, he realised he had been craving this closeness, this connection, this fire. His hands slid down her back, pulling her closer, as he deepened the kiss, their tongues tangling in a dance of desire.

His hands wandered further down to her legs, gripping her firmly, as if he feared she might disappear again. Aelora's fingers worked their way through his hair, the soft strands a stark contrast to the iron grip of his hand on her wrist. Her body responded to his touch, arching into him, begging for more. He could feel the heat radiating from her, the same heat that burned in his veins.

This is going to be a long night.

He was going to enjoy it.

No matter what happened.

[avacoleman]

all i wanted (was you) || a firstprince fic

summary: It’s been nearly a decade since exes Henry and Alex have last seen or heard from each other. After one unexpected night of reuniting thanks to the meddling of their mutual friend, the pair find that neither time nor circumstance can stop their flame from rekindling. With the complications of Henry’s marriage to another man and his scheduled return to London looming, the two must navigate life’s difficulties as they grapple with what a possible future could mean for them.

chapter 2/9 || rated e || read on ao3 || listen to the playlist *updates every tues. and fri.*

Henry Are you home?

Alex yeah…did you want to come over?

Henry If you wouldn’t mind. I’d like to talk.

Alex we aren't even dating and those words are freaking me out 😅

Henry No need to be alarmed. I would just prefer to see you in person for this chat, if that’s okay.

Alex of course it is. i’ll see you soon

Alex doesn’t know what to expect from this impending conversation with Henry, but he shares his address and quickly tidies up before Henry arrives.

Last night’s outing had gone extremely well. Towards the end, however, Alex was left mystified. He has oscillated between two trains of thought for the better part of the day, torn between thinking Henry didn’t realize he was flirting and being of the mind that Henry was fully aware of what he was doing.

The implications of the latter feel dangerous given the dynamics at play here. Henry is married, even if he seems miserable about it. He’s off limits. But Alex would be lying if he said it wasn’t at least curious to take a peek inside Pandora’s box on this. 

He’s gone over last night’s ending with a fine tooth comb. Tipsy or not, Henry did make a few passes at him. That much he’s certain of.

The notion shouldn’t call to Alex the way that it does but he finds it appealing all the same. He’s never been risk-averse, especially with matters of the heart.

The doorbell rings and Alex takes a deep breath before greeting Henry. The man’s expression is a little difficult to read at first but Henry seems to relax a bit as Alex smiles at him. That’s promising, at least.

He welcomes Henry into his brownstone and Henry marvels at the foyer, the stained glass window making a kaleidoscope of colors come alive against the wall.

“This is a gorgeous space,” Henry says.

Alex smiles.

“Thank you. How about we step further inside so you can see more of it?”

Henry blushes a little at that and Alex tugs gently on the sleeve of his shirt to bring him over to the living room.

“So…you wanted to talk?” he says, taking a seat as Henry looks around himself and remains standing.

Alex’s voice seems to jumpstart Henry’s train of thought.

“Yes. First, I wanted to say thank you for coming out last night. I truly had a great evening. I can’t remember the last time I stayed out that late and actually enjoyed it.”

He hesitates and Alex sits up straighter at the change in Henry’s demeanor.

“What I mostly wanted though was to clear the air a bit. I don’t think I ended up giving you a good impression of me…as I am now.”

“What do you mean? I had a lot of fun talking to you.”

“Maybe, but I think I might’ve monopolized the conversation, airing my martial grievances. I don’t want you to think I’m some poor, downtrodden husband, locked away in an ivory tower.”

“You weren't monopolizing anything. I was asking questions and you answered. Besides, should it even matter what I think? It’s not my business; my opinion or views should be non-factors.”

“Of course. I didn’t mean…,” Henry trails off, putting a hand to his forehead. “I’m saying too much. Yet again.”

Alex waves him off. 

“It’s alright. H, relax. It’s me. You can always talk to me, you know that. You clearly need to get some things off your chest and that’s chill. You kinda had loose lips last night. I just hope you don’t regret anything you said.”

Alex thinks pointedly of how flirtatious Henry had been at the bar. He suspects alcohol might’ve been the root cause and not actual residual feelings from eight years ago. Henry has so clearly moved on with his life. Alex knows he ought to do the same.

Henry seems to mull over his words.

“I don’t think that I do. It’s been frustrating keeping all of this in, constantly keeping up appearances. I’ve spoken to Pez about all this stuff with Daniel. That should have been enough. I’m sorry I dumped all of that on you. I’m sure that’s not the topic of conversation you were expecting to have.”

“Can’t say it wasn’t interesting at least, that’s for sure.”

Henry smiles a little at that.

Alex sighs. 

“I know we only had a year in college together and that was probably a blip on your radar, all things considered, but, for what it’s worth, I think about you a lot.”

Henry’s brows lift. 

Alex opens and closes his mouth.

“I mean, I’d hoped you were doing well. When I saw the news and all the pictures and stuff surrounding the wedding…I thought that was settled and you got your storybook ending. So hearing that you’ve been going through all this shit made me a bit…sad? I don’t know.”

Henry looks as if someone’s let the air out of him.

“Right…yeah. I suppose this whole thing is rather pathetic.”

“Fuck, I didn’t mean that in a pitying sort of way or anything.” 

Alex groans and scrubs at his face.

“There’s only so much I can say without totally crossing a line. I’m trying to be respectful here.”

Henry looks confused. Alex can’t blame him.

“Simply put, I want what’s best for you. I know I have no real stake in this, but your happiness matters. From what you described, it seems like you’ve lost some of that joy with him.”

Alex feels himself getting upset all over again with Daniel’s flagrant disregard and—frankly— his disrespect.

“I know I just said what I think shouldn’t matter, but screw it. I’m gonna say this anyway because you need to hear it. What he’s done to you…it isn’t right. I can only imagine how hard it’s been. How lonely you must feel most days by yourself. It breaks my heart to think about you being alone in all of this.”

Henry wraps an arm around himself.

“It is lonely. He doesn’t touch me like you did when we were together. He doesn’t so much as look at me the way you still do and we haven’t even seen each other in years.”

Henry swallows hard, but Alex sees the tears forming in his eyes. Can see as clear as day just how much the sting of Henry’s partner’s indifference hurts him.

“Perhaps I’m being presumptuous with that last part. I only mean, I can tell you actually like having me around, you know? I don’t have to guess.” He pauses and sighs. “Things are difficult, but even still, there’s a large part of me that wants to give this an honest go with him. I want to know I gave this relationship everything I had.”

Alex feels like he’s in the Twilight Zone.

“Does that mean you have to make yourself into some kind of martyr to prove a point? This is obviously killing you, Hen. How is any of this fair to you?”

Henry’s gaze snaps away.

“You don’t understand.”

“Then explain it to me,” Alex counters.

Henry wipes at his right eye and stays quiet. The silence needles at Alex, wedges itself uncomfortably under his skin like a splinter. 

“It has to work. Our friends, our families…there’s a lot riding on this. It’s the first relationship my gran has ever approved of. That within itself is nothing short of a miracle. On paper, we’re a perfect match.”

Henry stops short and squares his shoulders.

“But in reality?” Alex chimes in.

Henry doesn’t answer right away. He stares off for a moment, his eyes cresting once more with tears.

“I messed up with us,” Henry says softly after a time, looking back at Alex then. “You were wrong before. You were never a blip to me, Alex. You were everything. Our relationship changed me in a lot of ways. It helped shape me into the person I am today. It really did. I just…I need to get this right with him now. I can’t screw up another serious relationship. I can’t fail a second time. I won’t.”

Alex's heart sinks at the notion that whatever failed, inadequate relationship Henry has forged with Daniel is somehow worth fighting for whereas his relationship with Henry hadn’t been at the time. It’s not a fair comparison, a one-year college romance and a marriage, but still. At least Henry actually felt loved and cared for in one of those relationships and it’s certainly not the latter of the two.

“Do you even love him?” Alex asks. More than me, he doesn’t say. He thinks Henry hears it anyway.

An unnameable emotion flickers across Henry’s face for a moment but it’s gone too quickly for Alex to ID it. Henry schools his features, his face and tone almost clinical as he speaks again.

“I care deeply about Daniel.”

That’s not the same thing, Alex fights the urge to blurt out. He clenches his jaw and takes a beat as Henry continues. 

“He has a busy life. I always knew that about him, well before we even got together. I knew what I was getting myself into. Hell, both of us are extremely busy. I just need to figure out my place in all of this. His work…it’s important to him.”

“You should be too,” Alex mutters, hating the free pass Henry seems keen on giving his partner.

“I am important to him. It’s…”

“Complicated?” he offers, borrowing Henry’s word from last night.

Henry frowns. 

“I know he cares about me.”

Everything Alex has heard about this guy seems to contradict that, but he lets it go. Alex holds his hands up in surrender.

“Okay. Fair enough.”

Henry’s frown deepens, his brows furrowing.

“This was a mistake. I shouldn’t’ve come here.”

“But something made you though. Did you only need to talk? Or do you need something more?”

Henry searches Alex’s face, his lips parting as if to speak but no words come out. His eyes briefly drift to Alex’s mouth before holding his gaze again.

“Like what?”

Alex settles back in his seat and shrugs a shoulder.

“You tell me.”

Henry blinks twice and takes measured breaths.

“I needed to apologize for my…behavior and for oversharing. I got too comfortable. I don’t know. I…it’s easy with you…to talk and be myself. It’s one of the few times my mind ever feels quiet. It’s been some time since I’ve had that,” Henry admits.

Alex considers this a moment.

“In that case, I’m glad you knew to come here. I’ll always be around for you. Whatever you need. Whenever you need it.”

Alex doesn’t miss the way Henry’s breathing has changed or the way his eyes once again fall to Alex’s mouth.

Alex licks his lips, maybe unfairly, but it’s certainly worth it to watch the heat rise in Henry’s cheeks. The man looks away pointedly and instead focuses his attention to the wall behind Alex’s head.

“I really should go.”

Alex cocks a brow as Henry doesn’t move an inch despite his own words.

“Are you telling me that or yourself?” he asks, not unkindly.

Henry looks back at him then, the picture of conflicted. His mouth opens and closes on words he can’t seem to bring himself to say.

Alex keeps his eyes locked on Henry, willing to give him an out he so clearly needs.

“I’m here for you, Henry. All you have to do is say what you need.”

Henry sighs.

“I don’t quite know what I want exactly.”

Alex rises from his seat, studying the bob in Henry’s throat as he swallows hard.

Alex steps closer to Henry slowly, moving around the coffee table so there’s no longer a barrier between them. He feels almost like a shark going after its prey. 

There’s blood in the water. His first instinct is to strike.

“Could there be a chance you might actually want something with me?” he asks.

He’s close enough to hear Henry’s breath catch at the outright question.

“That’s the problem,” Henry says quietly. “It’s always more than a chance. It’s essentially a constant state of being.”

Alex’s heart flutters at the admission. He cups Henry’s face gently, his thumb tracing the curve of Henry’s bottom lip, delighting in the shiver that appears to run through Henry.

“I don’t think that’s a problem at all, actually.” Alex’s thumb follows the same path again, slower this time as he watches Henry’s mouth fall open. He can feel Henry’s soft breath against his finger. 

“No, on the contrary, I think that’s the solution,” Alex continues.

Henry’s eyes slowly close, his defenses lowering.

“So I’ll say it again,” Alex presses, gently slipping his finger past Henry’s parted lips. “I’m here, ready and willing, to give you anything you want but I need you to ask for it, Hen.”

Henry’s eyes flash open again, his tongue teasing the pad of Alex’s thumb.

It’s a pretty picture, watching his mouth wrapped around him like that. It makes Alex crave to replace his finger with something else. 

“Please?” Henry croaks, his voice a faint whisper.

The tone of his voice, the look in his expectant blue eyes. It’s more than enough to break Alex’s resolve. There isn’t a thing in this world he’d deprive Henry of, least of all himself.

He’d sacrifice whole populations if it meant satisfying Henry’s wants and needs, even if for only one night.

He feels confident in saying that Daniel wouldn’t do so much as a fraction of that for Henry, if the current state of things is any indication. The man can’t so much as find time in his schedule to meet Henry’s most basic needs. Alex will show Henry what he’s missing. He’ll fill the void in Henry’s life as much as he can in this one night.

What it boils down to is simple in Alex’s eyes. Daniel doesn’t know Henry like Alex does. There’s no possible way he’s synced his soul Henry’s like Alex did the very first day they met. Maybe it’s naivety. Perhaps it’s arrogance. For Alex, it’s simply an irrefutable fact.

He and Henry belong to each other. They found their way to one another once before. He knows in his heart they can do it again.

“As you wish,” he replies, slipping his thumb from Henry’s mouth.

He closes the scant distance between them, the tip of his nose skimming against Henry’s. He hears the change in Henry’s breathing, feels him trembling too.

Alex slowly runs a hand through Henry’s hair, his fingers gripping the strands at the back of his head.

“I’ve got you, okay?” Alex whispers. “Let me take it from here.”

Henry nods twice as Alex takes a step closer, enough for their chests to meet for a moment before their lips do the same.

It takes every bit of strength and willpower for Alex to remain standing. His knees feel weak, his hand shaking as he tightens his hold on Henry’s hair.

They’ve always had a spark, but this kiss feels beyond electric.

It’s a return to something known. To something safe, tried, and true.

This is what he’s been missing all the years. This is the sort of magic he’s never been able to find in other partners. This is what he prays he’ll never lose again.

Henry whimpers quietly and the sound snaps Alex’s focus to the here and now. He kisses Henry deeply, thoroughly, not rushing a single second as they reacclimate themselves to one another. It’s instant, truly, but it’s apparent they each want to savor it.

Henry’s right hand slots into place at Alex’s hip, his grip firm as if staking a claim to Alex’s body. 

Alex’s hand slides from Henry’s hair to his face, tucking underneath his chin as they explore each other's mouths. Alex pins his hips to Henry’s, moaning at the feel of their cocks pressed together. Tentatively Alex rolls his hips forward and he’s met with a sharp thrust from Henry.

Alex has no clue how far Henry is willing to go tonight, but he’d take all of him in a heartbeat if he wanted to go all the way.

Henry’s hands seem to grow curious as he runs his palms slowly up Alex’s back and to his shoulders until they take up residence in his curls. His nails scratch against Alex’s scalp in a way that sends a delightful chill down Alex’s spine.

Alex walks Henry back a few steps and presses him up against the wall, grinding down on him. Henry gasps and rocks back, tugging on Alex’s hair. That’s always been one of his weaknesses. Henry clearly hasn’t forgotten. 

“God, I want you,” Alex pants, unable to quell his thoughts.

“Then have me.”

This response sobers Alex up at once, his mind clearing the fog away instantly.

He pulls back to look at Henry, to read his expression in order to make certain he’s indeed of sound mind and not simply lost in a lustful haze.

Henry chases after his lips a little. His cheeks are flushed but his gaze is steady and sure when he opens his eyes. He wants this just as much as Alex does. That much is obvious.

“I want to forget everything,” Henry says. “Just for tonight, I want to be someone else. I want…Alex, I want to be yours.”

Alex closes his eyes briefly, taking in both a deep breath and those words, letting them replace the very air in his lungs so it’s all he’s breathing.

I want to be yours.

Doesn’t Henry know that he’s never stopped being just that in Alex’s eyes?

He looks back at Henry then, studying his reddened lips and soft, wanting stare.

He kisses Henry hard, but his hands remain gentle, his touch almost reverent as he traces Henry’s body. He knows the terrain all too well; he could live a thousand lives and never forget. All the same, it feels too good to have access to Henry like this again, after being convinced they’d never have an opportunity in years since their split.

Alex takes hold of Henry’s hand and without a word, he guides Henry up into his bedroom.

He gives Henry a few beats to look around and get his bearings together before he’s crowding Henry’s space again, the two resuming their heated kiss as they start to undress each other.

Each item of clothing falls carelessly to the ground until they’re both laid bare before the other.

Henry drinks him in, his cock already leaking and twitching. Alex wets his lips in turn, hungry for all of him.

He pushes Henry back against the bed, taking a moment to admire Henry’s figure before climbing in on top of him. Henry’s hands immediately fall to his hips, gripping so tightly Alex is certain he’ll leave marks. At least he hopes so. They’ll only have this one night. He’d like the physical proof to last a bit longer to get him through the days to come.

He wants to bite and claw, to feed into every carnal urge he feels. But this night is temporary. Henry will return to his husband and while a petty, childish part of him wants to leave marks that Daniel could find, Alex won’t put Henry in that position.

Instead, he hopes his words in bed, whispered and moaned into Henry’s ear, will last even longer as a reminder. Will the memories of tonight come back to Henry when he’s in bed laying beside a man he’s so clearly not in love with? Will the memories serve as inspiration on a lonely night when it’s just Henry and his right hand?

Alex moans at the mere thought.

Henry touches his face lightly and it centers Alex. He searches Henry’s face as Henry does the same in kind to him. He’ll never grow tired of looking into these eyes, of seeing straight into the core of Henry. His Henry.

Henry’s thumb brushes along Alex’s jaw.

“You’re so beautiful,” Henry says. Alex can’t help it. He feels himself blush instantly at the compliment.

He leans in and kisses Henry softly though it doesn’t take long for the kiss to grow more heated. Henry’s ability to drive him insane is unlike anything he’s ever experienced before. Certainly he’s been attracted to others in the past, admittedly lusted after a few. But this connection with Henry by and large has always been in a league of its own.

It’s frenzied and unpredictable yet somehow always effortless. Alex can’t get enough.

“Touch me,” Henry whispers, adding even more fuel to the fire already burning between them.

Alex shudders but doesn’t hesitate, wrapping a hand around Henry’s cock and stroking him lightly at once. 

Henry cries out, back arching and Alex can’t help but to wonder when Henry was last intimate with Daniel. 

Alex kisses along the column of Henry’s throat, his tongue teasing his skin every now and then as he keeps a steady pace on Henry’s length.

Each exhale and stutter from Henry pushes Alex further.

He kisses down the length of Henry’s body until he reaches the man’s hips. Alex’s eyes flicker up to Henry’s face and the naked want, need, he finds in Henry’s piercing gaze leaves Alex breathless.

Alex licks slowly at Henry’s tip, tongue curling around the beads of precum there before sucking on the head of his cock.

Henry’s eyes roll back, an arm slinking over his eyes almost as if to shield him further from an unfathomable sight. His back arches even more as Alex takes him in further, his jaw dropping open. Alex rolls his tongue against the underside of Henry’s cock, just the way he knows he likes. He’s rewarded instantly with an involuntary thrust of Henry’s hips that brings Henry’s tip to nudge the back of his throat.

Henry chokes out an apology, but Alex takes it all in stride. Through watery eyes he keeps his focus on Henry, all too pleased with seeing how much he’s enjoying himself. It’s all he could possibly want.

Alex spends a bit more time sucking him off, feeling Henry twitch against his tongue. He could get Henry off easily like this, but he knows they both ache for more.

He slips Henry out of his mouth and rifles through the nightstand for supplies, quickly returning his attention to Henry’s body.

He flicks open the cap of the lube and coats his fingers, watching Henry squirm in anticipation. Alex lowers his hand and teases the pad of his thumb over Henry’s entrance.

Henry grabs a fistful of Alex’s curls, his thighs trembling. Alex places his free hand on one of Henry’s legs to try and steady him. 

Henry turns his face away into the pillow, whimpering softly as Alex pushes and prods.

Alex takes his time opening Henry up, basking in the broken sounds the man makes as he surrenders to the sensations coursing through him. Alex can’t help but to react to it too; he feels himself growing harder as he fingers Henry, feeling him cinch and gradually loosen around his fingers.

Alex drops kisses on Henry’s inner thighs, his fingers scissoring inside him all the while until he’s wide enough.

“I need it,” Henry soon rasps, brushing Alex’s curls out of his eyes. “Please.”

A wounded noise breaks in Alex’s throat at the plea. He kisses Henry’s thigh one last time before opening the condom wrapper and working it over himself.

Before he can make his next move, Henry reaches between Alex’s legs and takes a hold of his cock. Alex shivers at the feel of Henry’s hand on him. His heart practically beats right out of his chest as Henry gives him a few smooth strokes. Alex shifts his hips and aligns himself to Henry, moaning as he’s guided into him.

They both let out curses as Alex fills him slowly. Henry’s beautiful mouth makes a perfect ‘O’ shape as he exhales. Alex keeps his eyes locked on Henry as he bottoms out, the two of them left speechless. Alex holds the position until Henry nods once, granting him the greenlight to continue.

Alex rolls his hips forward, burying himself just a bit deeper and at once, Henry’s hands anchor onto his shoulders as they move together.

Alex could never put into words just how badly he’s missed this, not just the act itself but the underlying sense of connection and closeness to Henry. It’s been years but it’s as if no time has passed at all. They’re a well-oiled machine finding their track once again.

Henry kisses the side of his face, his breath warm and tantalizing against Alex’s ear as he moans Alex’s name and begs for more.

Alex is all too happy to oblige. His strokes go slower yet deeper as he hooks one of Henry’s legs around his hip and grips tighter. He fucks him steadily, the two of them finding their rhythm as if in a dance. Henry’s dull nails claw at his back, leaving behind a pleasant sting.

“You’re always so good to me,” Henry rasps against the shell of Alex’s ear.

Alex fucks Henry harder into the mattress at that, their breaths heavy and erratic but neither of them stops or slows. If anything, Alex knows they’re merely going faster, chasing the thrill of being together after all this time.

He has to keep himself from confessing just how much he’s missed Henry, how there hasn’t been a single day over the last few years where he hasn’t thought about him, how no partner has ever truly measured up.

It’s all too personal and vulnerable to say aloud, but it’s the honest to God truth.

Instead, Alex just tells Henry how amazing he feels, how well he’s taking him. Alex knows how much Henry gets off on such praise. He can feel Henry’s body responding to it all, his resolve weakening. 

Henry lets out a choked breath, a soft laugh falling from his lips a few moments later as he’s pushed over the edge. Alex sees him through, keeping his pace as Henry spills out between them.

I want to be yours.

Henry’s words from earlier replay in his mind once more. Alex pulls out slowly and slips the condom off, tying and doing away with it quickly. He gets a hand around his cock, giving himself a few quick strokes as he straddles Henry’s hips.

Henry bites back on his lower lip, pupils blown as he watches Alex work to get himself off.

“Oh, God, yes,” Henry pants.

The word mine flashes in Alex’s head, white hot and possessive. He marks his territory accordingly.

His release streaks across Henry’s chest, his neck, and lower half of his face. Henry seems to relish in it as he writhes against the bed, his large hands cupping Alex’s ass and kneading.

Alex loses it again, coming a second time as Henry licks his lips clean of Alex’s release, moaning at the taste.

“Fucking hell,” Alex murmurs.

Henry simply smiles and pulls Alex in, kissing him hungrily, all teeth and quickened breaths.

Alex matches his fervor, his tongue sliding into Henry’s mouth and toying with Henry’s, tasting himself as they slowly come down from their highs.

He breathes in each of Henry’s exhales, his limbs feeling entirely boneless, his body hot to the touch.

“We should get cleaned up,” Henry says quietly against Alex’s lips after a time before giving him one last quick kiss.

Alex groans, but he knows Henry is right. They’re both a mess, especially Henry. But the man’s face is relaxed, far more than Alex has seen all evening. He looks genuinely happy and it makes Alex’s heart swell knowing that he’s the reason why.

He brushes a few wayward strands of hair from Henry’s forehead and drops a kiss there, lingering for a moment before accepting his fate and getting off of Henry.

He instantly misses his warmth, but Henry doesn’t let a second go to waste. He takes a hold of Alex’s hand, bringing it to his lips and kissing each knuckle before tugging him up and out of bed.

Alex leads them from his room and to the bathroom. Catching sight of himself in the mirror, Alex is a little taken aback by how unkempt he is. His curls are in absolute disarray from Henry’s hands, his eyes wild and scratches against his skin.

“Sorry about that,” Henry murmurs from over by the shower where he’s turned on the water.

Alex half turns to see his back. It’s already blooming with welts. He smiles to himself and glances back at Henry.

“Don’t ever apologize for something like this.”

Henry blushes a little before taking a step into the shower.

“Can I at least make amends in another way?”

Alex cocks a brow and follows in after him. He’s instantly pushed against one of the shower walls, Henry’s mouth on his neck, sucking so hard Alex knows he’ll leave a hickey.

Alex grips Henry’s hips as the man presses more firmly against, their bodies slotting together with ease as Henry grinds against Alex’s thigh.

Henry returns his lips to Alex’s, kissing him hungrily as he ruts harder against Alex like an animal in heat. Alex’s hands run down to Henry’s ass, shamelessly pawing at him.

Henry whimpers and Alex holds him closer, letting Henry take what he needs. It’s so clear he’s been pent up for ages, yet another strike against Daniel as far as Alex can tell. To think the man has this kind of access to Henry regularly and wastes the opportunity for intimacy is so far beyond Alex’s comprehension.

Alex is taken from his thoughts as Henry pivots and starts kissing down the length of Alex’s body, taking a few extra moments to tease his nipples with his teeth and tongue before he makes his way further down.

Henry gets down on his knees, gripping the backs of Alex’s thighs as he settles between Alex’s parted legs.

Henry peers up at him expectantly, water from the shower beating down on him. He looks like a wet dream.

“You’re desperate for it,” Alex says, brushing Henry’s hair back. 

“You have no idea,” Henry murmurs.

Alex smirks, taking a hold of himself and lazily stroking.

“I think I have a slight clue,” Alex counters.

Henry’s eyes dilate and stay locked on Alex’s cock, his breathing growing heavier. Alex can't deny how good it feels to have Henry’s rapt attention like this. 

“I bet I could make you beg for it.”

“I’m already on my knees. I can put it into words if you’d like.”

Alex shudders, squeezing himself on a downstroke to keep from losing it right then and there.

He brings the tip of his cock to Henry’s face, lightly ghosting over the man’s lower lip. Henry visibly trembles.

“May I? Please, Alex.”

“So polite.”

Alex taps his cock twice on the seal of Henry’s lips.

“Open up for me, baby,” Alex says. 

Henry, obedient as ever, opens his mouth at once.

Alex licks his lips, so thoroughly aroused, and feeds Henry his cock, his head tipping back against the tiles as Henry’s tongue brushes against the underside.

Alex curses, his left hand laying flat against the wall as his right hand grips Henry’s hair. 

Henry takes a deep breath through his nose, moaning as his eyes roll shut. Alex marvels at the sight before him, Henry losing himself in this moment. He’d always been particularly skilled in this area, but this feels next level somehow.

Alex rocks his hips forward, gently fucking Henry’s mouth. Henry moans almost appreciatively, taking in more of him.

“Such a good boy,” Alex says, continuing to card his fingers through Henry’s hair.

Henry peers up at him then, his blue eyes so dark and hungry it sends a chill through Alex. He grabs a fistful of Henry’s hair and thrusts forward a bit rougher, fucking Henry’s mouth in earnest.

It seems to be exactly what the other man needs. Henry shifts slightly on his knees and works his hand over himself, his grunts muffled by Alex’s cock. 

Alex knows the shower floor can’t be easy on Henry but he knows if anything, the pain might actually be adding to Henry’s pleasure.

Alex watches him, sees the sheer, unfiltered ecstasy Henry’s taking in getting them both off. It turns Alex on to an embarrassing degree.

Henry’s hand is relentless against his own cock, his moans echoing off the shower walls, his cheeks hollowed as he dutifully sucks Alex off. It’s almost like Henry is somewhere else entirely, reaching nirvana as his eyes roll shut.

Alex swallows hard and closes his eyes too, his knees growing weaker as he continues fucking into the wet heat of Henry’s mouth. It’s too much for Alex to take.

He comes for a third time this evening down Henry’s throat with tears of pleasure streaming down his face and a silent prayer on his tongue that tonight never ends.

[copaline]

WOO! WIP WEDNESDAY!

ISTG this has been a long and exhausting week. BUT I MADE IT! I hope to get a lot more writing done this weekend, fingers crossed!

@man--eater (I know I'm hogging the spoons but GIMME YOUR WORDS!)

@sunsetofdoom (You're just out here being a menace and you know it)

@i-prefer-base-twelve (Ma'am are you alive? The council is worried about you.)

@punedrr (Ok midterms should be over. TELL ME YOU GOT SOMETHING!)

@ancharan (After that stream? I want, nay, demand all the doodles and or writings!)

And as always, if you see this and want to join in, please do! Consider yourself tagged by me! The banner is free to use!

Back on the Horror Vacui bandwagon! Making progress on the upcoming chapter 10:

Leaf was well acquainted with pain. Psychological, emotional, physical… her experiences ran the gamut but she had never considered herself much of a masochist. The complex variety of pain’s flavors were lost on her. Truth be told there was surprising little that could genuinely hurt her anymore, so the pain was just another futile exercise in unpleasantness. So why was it she once again found herself unconscious and gritting her teeth to bear it? As though to answer, Ford's smiling face flickered in her mind. That's right.  This all happened because she was an idiot. Leaf didn’t fight the pull and effortlessly fell away into the abyss. If she went deep enough away, she could muffle the pain behind ice cold nothingness. Far away where everything felt numb, there she could think properly and take stock of the damage. It certainly looked bad. Bill had added his own twist on the impact, but most of the destruction was simply the universe taking its due. Meddling always came at a price, the only thing Bill had done was give the thing shotgun physics.  That little cheat with the Neverwere and Dr. Dipper had landed her three broken ribs. Then there was the dimensional skip, more temporal distortions, breach of contract, obstruction of death, soul prisage, liminal bleeding, spatial breakage, misappropriation of potential, even more temporal distortions…  The Axolotl might grin and look the other way, but Time Baby was surely throwing a tantrum over it. Hence the pain. Idly she wondered if this time the damage would be extensive enough to kill her. If anything could manage to take her out, it was probably this. However, a cursory glance at her injuries showed that none of them were life threatening. Agonizing and inconvenient? Yes. Deadly? Not even close. How disappointing. Leaf sighed only half-joking. There was a comfort in the familiar notion that everything and everyone eventually came to an end. It would be rather nice to have death find her in the comfort of her bed instead of in a battlefield. A peaceful end… that's all anyone could ever hope for, wasn't it? She drifted in the darkness longing for dreams to materialize and fill the nothingness. They would never come. Yet another thing she’d lost in the exchange between mortality and the eternal. ‘Mostly human’ was not human enough to dream.  Dealers had little use for dreams. Those little bursts of inspiration were reserved for more malleable creatures that could continue to change and grow throughout their lifetime. Leaf was already everything she would ever be.  Things had been different when Bill was around. Every night, he had a habit of singing lullabies and unwinding the coils of existence. His gift was to allow for even more possibilities than what reality granted. She had dreamt back when Bill was still around. Back when everyone was still around…

[colourstreakgryffin]

Yandere! Romantic! KNY Kyojuro Rengoku Headcanons

I sadly couldn’t find a pic that showed off his katana more but here we go anyway, Here comes the man of fire himself to traumatise all of us!🔥😍

Kyojuro as a romantic Yandere has the Yandere traits of; Overprotective, Manipulative, Loving/Clingy, Delusional, Possessive, Sadistic, Controlling and Obliviously Passive-Aggressive

In all honesty. Yandere Kyojuro is 1,000,000% one of, if not, the most scary Yandere Hashira of them all. Whilst every other Hashira are openly twisted and it is scary, Kyojuro is f**king TERRIFYING for his twisted nature fusing with that unbreaking cheerful expression of his

He smiles nonstop, even whilst gutting demons or passive-aggressively persisting that the Flame Estate is your new home with very little care over your obvious pain and a truly insane look in his flame-like eyes. He is cruel but doesn’t realise it as his vision is blurred with delusion

Kyojuro actually wasn’t Yandere straight away. He did fall in love with you in a instant, he couldn’t help it but for quite some time, Kyojuro was very normal, he treated you as he does all his fellow Hashira and he valued you as a dear friend

But, the longer he spent getting to know you, learning about the things you’d share with him. His love blossomed into an health-damaging obsession and torn apart almost everything of his perceptions. Are the people around him even his friends or are they bigger threats then demons for trying to steal away your eyes? He doesn’t know anymore. Kyojuro has grown extremely fixated on you, he became desperate to keep you at the Flame Estate for longer and eventually begun manipulating you to keep you cupped in his palms

After Kyojuro’s obsession with you has refined and been burnt into his head, he realises that he must hide it from you to ensure he wont lose his chance and he continues pretending to be the goofy, loveable Kyojuro you’re use to. But behind your back, he’s stealing your belongings, he’s going through your clothes to obsess over your scent or he’s taking peaks at your personal letters

He doesn’t want to hurt you at all, nor does he want to hurt anybody. Sharing this Yandere trait with Mitsuri, Kyojuro much prefers to intimidate, blackmail or scare away the threats(just like Mitsuri) if they’re human then raise his blade unnecessarily. However, for demons, he gladly kills and laughs hysterically at the remains turning to ash, so much that you think he’s going mad

His usually heroic mind is twisting and crumbling into pieces so quickly every second his obsession with you is enabled by you enjoying his presence

Yep. Kyojuro stalks you almost all the time, in and out of public. Though, it’s harder for him, due to his incredible but very noticeable fire-like features but he knows the way around your Estate off heart like he knows the carvings of his katana so he isn’t worried about getting caught at all

Kyojuro manipulates you very subtly in all ways to keep you in line. Emotionally, he’ll whine and cry so you feel bad. Mentally, he’ll twist your words until you believe what you know is incorrect. By the time Kyojuro is finished meddling with your head, you’ll have no choice but to trust him blindly. Though, you want to be as far as physically possible from him

As he’s very unpredictable therefore, very dangerous. He isn’t above punishing you and the way he looks at you with a deranged lovesick glare, you won’t even try test your limits with him anymore. It’s not worth losing a limb or even your life over

Like pretty much every other Yandere Hashira, Kyojuro is scarily possessive and delusional. He loves you so much that he will guard you from everybody when he sees fit and chase away all the annoyances but worse, he’s tricked himself into living in the fantasy where you also like him beyond friendship and that you’re just waiting for him to sweep you off your feet

As a coping mechanism to any lash-outs aimed at him. Kyojuro laughs, he laughs to keep himself steady, he laughs to keep himself from potentially laying his hands on you. He does have quite the powerful will but his mental health is weak to all the soft voices whispering to him. Lucky for him, nobody knows of his worsening state, nor even you for a long time as Kyojuro is extremely good at hiding his footprints

Your life has the upmost value to Kyojuro so he will gladly go down dying to protect you. Overprotective should be his new first and last name as he removes you from everyday conversations with kind strangers and even fellow Hashira. The danger of this world is off the chart and nobody can be trusted

Sharing this Yandere trait with Shinobu, Kyojuro is very split-faced and goes between his Yandere self and his normal self like a flipswitch whilst the other Hashira turn into their Yandere self permanently after a while of being their normal self. Kyojuro, however, is worse at hiding his Yandere nature than Shinobu, though, he values hiding it to better increase his chances of winning your heart naturally whilst Shinobu hides it as a means to manipulate

And when I mean he hides his Yandere self, I mean that he actively holds in rage and jealousy whilst you’re around, he doesn’t attack people unless he’s in proper privacy, he doesn’t really kidnap you but that he convinces you to stay at his Estate

Which is what he believes. Kyojuro will kidnap you eventually but also like Mitsuri, he leaves kidnapping as a last ditch effort and wants to charm you on his own. Why should he force your hand when he can win it?

Kyojuro’s quite obsessive and clingy over his beloved love interest. You belong to him and only him! He doesn’t want anybody talking to you and his blood boils when people dare to compliment you out of the blue. Yes, you are beautiful in that kimono but nobody has the right to say that but him!

On the inside, Kyojuro is like; “I swear to all the gods above, I will spill your disgusting intestines and watch your worthless life drain from your hideous eyes, how dare you lay a single filthy finger on my lovely Dokusha, you worthless flabby sack of sh—“

But on the outside, Kyojuro is like; “Excuse me. I do not mean to be rude by interrupting this important discussion but you see, Dokusha is my girlfriend and I don’t appreciate you trying to make a move on her. Please leave her be”

Going out in public post-kidnap consists of a passive-aggressive Kyojuro preventing you from communicating with anybody and clinging onto you so hard, you feel like your lungs are collapsing from how tight he hugs. He won’t break you, but he squeezes you into him every single second that it seems he wants to absorb you

Since Senjuro and Shinjuro also live in the Flame Estate, Kyojuro had to sneak you in when he finally kidnapped you and has been hiding you away from them ever since. If either his little brother or father found out about you, it’ll be all over. He won’t be able to see you again and he knows he’d snap

Would Kyojuro kill his father if the older man mistreated you and threatened you with violence upon Kyojuro bringing you to meet him? It’d be a horrible situation with Shinjuro. Kyojuro has extreme RAGE bottled up as his father screams at you to leave his house. If Kyojuro really had no self-control, he would have killed his father on the spot but he won’t, he still loves him. He just gets so furious that he must leave to vent the rising pit of fury

Kyojuro is very controlling. Not so surprisingly, he has been taking charge of your entire life by stripping you off your independence and replacing it with him in firm belief that it’ll protect you. He chooses everything for you and chimes out your protests. To him, it’s for your own good

Kyojuro is Sadistic at times… or better yet, he’s unaware of how sadistic he comes off as. Like I said before, Kyojuro is a bit cruel with his treatment of you so that combines. When he has you in his Estate against your will, he chains you up in his basement and leaves you alone at night in that cold, dark place. However, the more horrible part is when you fight back, he begins the inhumane punishments

He’s only hurting you because he loves you. You were misbehaving when you knocked him out briefly with that broom so now, he has to hit you back just as hard so you understand the pain he felt

Kyojuro is a massive affection lover. He lives off giving kisses, giving hugs and so many more gestures. His forced relationship with you is romantic, he wants you as his wife so of course, he redirects all the love his flaming heart has to you. He’ll over-take care of you and pour you in gifts, treats and his warm embraces!

Kyojuro is one of the two Yandere Hashira who strives to have children with you at the world’s current state, instead of after. The only other is Tengen. He’ll make you pregnant as soon as possible so he can begin living out his favourite fantasy; a perfect, happy little family

He’ll never get angry-angry at you nor lose his tolerance enough to be… well, overly-abusive. He loves you too much and each time he must punish you hurts him unbearably. He views the occasional half-beatings as necessary punishment and always sprinkles loving aftercare when finished

The cuts, the bruises and the fracture or two he gave you. All of them will be kissed away as if they never existed

Kyojuro carves you to enjoy your new life in his Estate, he wants you to love the peaceful atmosphere and will shape it at all causes to see you smile sincerely. Want a pet cat? Kyojuro has a box of ten kittens for you! He will bend over backwards happily so you’ll stop fighting back, stop crying

Though, it doesn’t matter how he acts or what he does to cover up his split-face. The real Kyojuro will never return, he’s gone for good and the monster in place of the sweet excitable Flame Hashira you DID have a crush on, is an obsessed psychotic beast that is twenty times worse than any demon out there.

“Good morning, my gorgeous bell! First night out of the basement! Felt wonderful to sleep in a futon again, didn’t it? I imagine you were most happy to sleep with me! I give the best hugs as Senjuro says! You enjoyed your night with me, I know you did! And trust me, there will be a lot more!”

[lets-try-some-writing]

I love the Unicron "I guess I'm a Sire now" au, like I adore it. But also I vibe the au "humans are other and terrifying, borderline uncanny valley to bots " line of thought......sooooooo, hear me out:

Unicorn sees his offspring: they are very tiny and deceptively weak (at least in comparison to his brother creations), so he decides to meddle and gives us a boon, he changes us....a bit. Maybe he starts with the little ones (to him we are little ones) that are closest to the conflict: the tfp kids + associated humans, and giving it a test trial before moving to humanity as a whole

They still look as humanly possible, but its obvious that they are very other to an external expectator (even to other humans). But one thing is for sure, he made them into predators using human skin...

He builds them stronger, faster and more cunning than ever before, with superior senses. More resilient to the trials of time and less prone to injury or disease (giving his children immortality is anathema to him; chaos brings the possibility of change, which is inherent to them as much it is to him). He re-makes them with a general idea, but gives them a singular extra gift, to make them unique between each other, and as proof of his care snd devotion, but not su much as to isolate them from each other...

If ever asked, he will deny the possibility of partaking in favouritism like his brother. And yet, its a fact that he holds his most favored very close to his core (aka: the tfp kids, much to Papa Op infinite dismay). His children have faced dangers beyond the capabilities, and still, they have percevered despite all odds being against them, and he couldn't be any prouder (he knows that his kids will bring down empires if given the chance, well...HE WILL GIVE IT TO THEM)

In simpler words: I want the kids to become wholly other cause of Father Unicorn meddling, their reactions (and the bots + cons reactions)

This idea is FANTASTIC! I'm mad at myself for not writing for it sooner! Dang. Well I will try to make up for it with my work! Let's see how this turns out. I've always been a bit fan of cosmic horror and uncanny valley type situations. They are fun to write about.

Previous part here.

Not Quite Human Anymore

It was not his wish originally to change his creations. They had adapted and evolved just fine on their own without his interference. However now that Primus's children were involved, things were different. The playing field needed to be evened once Primus's children inevitably failed to protect his in a moment of hesitation or a lapse of judgement. Unicron refused to watch his children perish to forced that were unnatural to their world. They were HIS creations, and they would die in a manner he saw fit, not as victims to Primus's creations ridiculous war.

Thus while he used his avatar to keep an eye on the children who were most affected by Primus's creations, Unicron began to think and plan. He observed Primus's creations, he saw what they gained and what they lacked. He saw their mentalities and watched how they behaved. Then he observed his own children, watching how they preferred to act and what would suit them best.

It took months of careful planning, he couldn't risk hurting his little ones after all. However once he had come up with a plan he liked, he looked to his three most affected children and decided to use them to test his newest alteration. He had never done this to any of his creations, so they would be the first. If all went well, they would be leaps and bounds ahead of the rest of humanity, his little heralds. But if things went south, they would have Primus's creations to guard them, especially the Prime that seemed to taken with them.

Thus very quietly, Unicron began to act. He twisted the essence of the children, molding their flesh, their senses, and their minds to better endure the presence of Primus's eternal creations. It was a slow process, one that had the children growing taller rapidly. The team and the adult humans wrote it off as growth spurts kicking in... right up until they just kept growing. Jack reached a startling eight feet and didn't even seem to be suffering for it. Miko stopped at around seven feet, and Rafael at six. They towered over their peers and didn't even end up being disproportionate in any way.

They were taken to doctors and had Ratchet look over them when they began to start developing other adjustments. Their teeth sharpened, their eyes restructured entirely to be able to see in almost any light condition, and their sensory capabilities skyrocketed to the point of being on par with the bots. Their skin evidently became tougher, not invincible and still very capable of bruising but far less likely to tear. Their immune systems shot up in ability, warding off any and all diseases that weren't severe and lessening the pains of those that were meant to kill. They became faster, able to jump farther, last longer, and more importantly, their reaction times became increadible.

Overall they looked largely the same, if not for the fact that they were now the size of smaller minicons. The only other noticeable difference in them beyond their leap in capability was Rafael's new agility to sense fields, Miko's near total resistance to climate changes besides the worst of temperatures, and Jack's ability to handle pressure changes and hold his breath without fainting or being crushed. The children were rightly panicked, June and Fowler especially so. For the children's safety and to keep the government off them, they were kept with the bots until Ratchet could figure things out.

The team were startled and confused more than anything else when it came to the children, especially as their abilities became more obvious after their run in's with the Cons. Optimus nearly had a spark attack when Jack ended up flying high into the air after grabbing ahold of Laserbeak during battle and being carried off. He was retrieved but Optimus was expecting to find a corpse with how fast and how high the cassette had gone. Instead he found Jack right as rain clinging to Laserbeak's back as the cassette landed on the ground again. He nearly had a similar breakdown when Miko went through a groundbridge without them knowing that led straight to the Arctic. He once again expected to find a body, instead finding Miko rather unconcerned sitting in the snow building an igloo. As for Rafael? He didn't panic when the boy began asking why he was sad even when he was masking it, no instead he focused on helping Rafael figure out his gift if only so that it didn't overwhelm him.

The children startled Optimus, but he loved them all the same even if he had a vague inkling as to what was happening to them.

Ratchet straight up thought they were creepy. He still cared for the children and often found himself staring and running tests, but they worried him. He grew especially more concerned when after the children seemed to settle into their abilities, reports from around the globe began turning up pointing towards humans everywhere gaining a few extra inches and having an increase in strength, skill, and will.

Bulkhead and Wheeljack worried for the children but found their changes more relieving than anything else. Now the kids would be safer and less likely to die from random things that even their sparklings could endure. They found it especially fun to start chucking small lob balls (softly) at the children only to watch Jack or Miko catch it and toss it back. Bumblebee was also relieved, if a tad worried, but mainly took the changes in stride. He had a grand old time setting the children on his shoulders and not having to worry about them as much. Arcee was concerned and took little joy in the changes with how distressed they made the children in the beginning. Most of her time went toward trying to help them adapt while Ratchet tried to figure everything out.

The Decepticons didn't know all the details, but when the children did turn up on the battlefield, they found the vermin harder and harder to kill. A blaster shot just wasn't enough anymore, especially with that squirrel targeting them as well. Of course they grew more and more concerned about the whole thing when they too began noticing the reports of humanity changing into something... other. It reeked of divine influence and they began watching the children more closely to see if they could figure it out.

Unicron for his part simply began his work in relative silence. To ease the transition he sang to his children, every last one of them. During dreams he gave them visions of what they could do with their newfound frames. When they grew fearful he would hum softly to them in their minds through the bonds he forged through his touch. The humans didn't even know it was him, nor did they "hear" his song. But their souls knew him for what he was, their maker.

He tried not to play favorites, but he adored his three heralds. They were gifted, special, and so very unique. Not only that, but they had Optimus wrapped around their fingers. He adored them, and as he watched them grow and learn, he could see their ambitions and their drive. He would give them to the world.

Thus in dreams he sang to them. He showed them all they could be. And just to spite Optimus because he knew the Prime knew he was the one behind the changes, he became more bold with his usage of power around them, showing them marvels and warping the world to his desire.

[thecouchsofa]

Trick or Treat!! ☆

Very rough, unedited snippet from a WiP that hasn't been touched in a few months, but I'm hoping to pick up again after the fest fic that I'm currently working on!

Context: Malfoy jokingly declares his feelings for Harry in front of a few portraits of his ancestors and gets locked into courting him or he'll be disowned. Embarrassment, meddling, ill-advised betting, and shenanigans follow.

🎃 🎃 🎃 🎃 🎃 🎃

By the end of the day, Dean and Seamus had somehow acquired an extensive list of possible courting gifts and were running a betting pool on which ones Malfoy would choose.

“There’s no way the papers won’t be getting wind of this,” Hermione cried, a deep frown etched onto her face. “Honestly, you’d think everyone would have some tact.”

“Do you think you could ask him to send you a family heirloom next?” Ron asked. “I put ten Galleons on it.”

“Ron,” Hermione cried.

“It’s fine,” Harry sighed.

“And I seriously doubt Malfoy will give Harry some kind of priceless heirloom. He gets to keep all the gifts if he rejects the proposal at the end.”

“Do I really?” Harry asked.

“Apparently,” Hermione replied. “Everything seems to be a little different depending on the family, though. Perhaps the Malfoys prefer to have the gifts be temporary?”

“Harry, do you have any idea what you’re getting next?” Ginny asked, flopping down on the couch next to her brother. “Lavender talked me into putting a few Galleons on sweets, but I seriously doubt it’ll be that.”

“If I get some then I’ll share them with you,” Harry replied.

“Oh, brill,” Ginny said with a smile.

“You’ve all gone mad,” Hermione cried.

Harry couldn’t help but agree with her. Surely it was more likely at this point that he’d fallen off his broom and hit his head one day, and he was in some sort of odd Stasis fantasy?

“Guess I may as well put a bloody bet in,” Harry sighed, heaving himself out of the armchair. “If this is a fever dream then I’m guaranteed to win, right?”

“Oh, you’ll win all right,” Seamus called from across the room. “Blaise Zabini’s going around saying Malfoy has a huge cock.”

“He’s quite dreamy, isn’t he?” Parvati said. “You’re a bit lucky, Harry.”

“Merlin,” Harry muttered. “Should I put a few Galleons on his cock being the next gift then, Seamus?”

“If you want. It’s not on the list, but we could add it.”

“Put me down for ‘wood’ then,” Harry muttered, tossing a few Galleons into Dean’s waiting hand.

“Thank you for your business, Mr. Potter,” Dean said cheekily. “Or should we start calling you Mr. Malfoy?”

The common room dissolved into more laughter than Harry thought the joke warranted, personally.

“You’re all bloody mental,” Harry muttered, his cheeks heating.

Hermione placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. “You can always say no at the end,” she said.

[askauradonprep]

Rise of Red Liveblog Part 1

Just for the record, I'd like to point out there was a Queen of Hearts logo with the kids celebrating coming off the Isle in D3. I saw it not 10 minutes ago. So. :P

30 years is about right, yeah (it's actually 32 but eh)

What distant lands??????????

Also - Beast was elected king. I can see the Isle being part of a winning platform but that's not quite the same thing as this movie suggests.

OH YAY, Uma did sail around a little before she came back! I'm gonna have an updated crew timeline after this.

Huh, is it me or does Auradon look less bright and cheery? I don't mind that necessarily but I kinda wonder if that's meant to imply what's happened since the villains came back. I don't THINK so because that seems pretty 'off message' for this franchise but still.

I kinda like Fairy Godmother's office. It reminds me of a starry sky.

Oh my GOD Uma is literally lounging with her feet up and just has to yell 'pirates' for some of her crew to come do everything for her. LOST REVENGE CREW LET UMA DO SOME THINGS BY HERSELF CHALLENGE

I thought for a second the pirate I have deemed Juno was someone new (only saw her from the back) and the way my eye TWITCHED. I was about to cuss out my favourite character at 1 in the morning.

Fairy Godmother being a nerd who colour codes things should surprise NO ONE.

One reason I actually don't hate Beast, Belle and Fairy Godmother as much as some in this fandom is because even though they knee jerk shoot some things down, they can also take a deep breath and hear people out.

I've ranted enough about Wonderland not joining Auradon before, I don't like it, moving along.

Yeah, okay, I didn't need my heart anyway. That Carlos mention punched me in the chest. Thank you Uma. I like how that's also what convinced FG to help. She loves the VKs so much and I am not hearing alternatives.

"Nobody bears to talk about it" - WE HAVE HEARD ABOUT IT BEFORE. WITH ALLY.

Uma still not standing for a VK being left behind. <3

I love the QOH still having her off with your heads tendency. Remind me to write about the Queen's Forest sometimes.

HELP I LOVE RED SO MUCH ALREADY

The helmets remind me a little of the wheelers from Return to Oz. That's not a bad thing.

Red reminds me of a more rebellious Aladdin.

"I'm a lost cause" Ow.

Even without evil, being the next in line to royalty is rough. Poor girl. It's never just about you when you're royal.

New HC - the Queen of Hearts (and Red) were originally on the Isle and then Maddox made his time machine and meddled.

Go figure she's got sticky fingers. Definitely a VK

I love Chloe already. <333 And her parents seem great <3

Chloe's parents' embarrassing her is so funny and so cute.

THE GLASS BOOTS

Yeah, I'm standing by my head canon - these two have absolutely zero idea how Chad behaves when they aren't there watching him and would be heartbroken to be told so nobody's had the nerve to tell them they raised a douchebag yet.

Wait. Chloe's going to be queen? That can't be right. Surely as the oldest, Chad would be next in line? Chloe must be younger than him. Okay, maybe they know Chad is a douchebag after all. Or maybe they want her to be queen by marriage of somewhere, that's also very possible. Or hey, maybe their traditions have female-preference primogeniture and Charming (and his dad) just didn't have any sisters. That's possible too. That's probably it.

Damn, Queen of Hearts IS ruthless. I'm digging it.

Red, that hat trick wasn't going to work. Poor girl. She so clearly doesn't want to hurt anyone.

Okay, the Queen of Hearts clearly knows Uma and 'another villain gone soft' - sounds like rehabbing ex-villains has gone pretty well.

Awwww, it is cute how excited Chad is for his dad to see him play. And now I stand by my head canon again of nobody wanting to admit to them that he is a jerk.

HA! The Queen of Hearts driving cracked me up.

Love Ain't It is the villain parent theme song. I want to give Red a HUG.

Cinderella, Chloe, you tried, but Red and the Queen of Hearts are not having it. Red, be nice to Chloe!

I'm kinda stanning the Queen of Hearts. I also really like Cinderella's explanation of why she's like this to Chloe.

Queen of Hearts actually seems hurt when Red doesn't want to be like her. She reminds me of Maleficent a little.

[kerink]

i do want to spend a little more time with the proverb

PROVERB: Love is a many-legged thing with human skin and no eyes.

so first, the human skin and no eyes thing. while it's an easy reach to go kevin with this (and thankfully we have those posts), i'd really like to talk about the snake god

from 171 we learn that the flickering creature haunting cecil is a snake with human skin and a human face and, at the very least, talons. cecil said its face was small, small enough he thought it was far away, and that it cried like a child. its eyes are expressionless. when cecil's mother told him she was an oracle, she gave him a book written in an unknown language and told him to study it. this book features drawings of this creature.

in 214 john peters, you know the farmer, says there were a couple hundred children gathered in his corn field speaking in an unknown language who worshiped a serpent god. their eyes were entirely white (<- adding this detail for my kevin warriors out there). john was taken by this snake god up to heaven where he was given an effigy of himself.

in 213 there's a mural depicting children standing in a field of corn while a winged snake god lifts all the adults into heaven. cecil said: "This action symbolizes our city being delivered into the future by a huge snake god."

in 79 we get: The symbolic dead lead the procession, each of them wearing the mask of one of those who went into the distance of time and can never return. Behind them is a float depicting the enormous serpent whose mouth contains the universe. A playful reminder to us all that even the stars must someday be swallowed.

and let's not forget cecil's iconic line from e1: Along those lines, to get personal for a moment, I think the best way to die would be swallowed by a giant snake. Going feet first and whole into a slimy maw would give your life perfect symmetry.

so let's break down this snake god.

cecil's mother was an oracle and aware of the creature, which cecil can see when he looks in the mirror, which cecil's mother covers. see my last post about cecil and his mother about what i think about this dynamic cause this post is long enough.

this snake god represents death and, more specifically, the death of the universe.

i don't think it's a coincidence that this snake god has appeared in night vale right when huntokar returned and her cult its picking up speed. huntokar is the destroyer after all, she ripped a hole in reality which has caused an immense amount of pain and suffering and which she is trying desperately to fix.

i also don't think it's a coincidence that this snake god has appeared when the uowii is trying to un-weird night vale, when we know from e110 that the belief night vale is weird is part of what keeps it in-tact

between the uowii and huntokar's meddling, is night vale going to un-weird enough to fix the damage huntokar did? and the snake god has appeared because to do so would be to destroy it? we know that huntokar acts only out of love, and yet, love is, possibly, this serpent

especially because cecil alludes to being swallowed by a serpent as being an inverse of birth, which is what he'd prefer

which brings us to the love part of the proverb. i'd like to circle back around to e102:

“Love is a shambling thing. It climbs through a window into an infant’s bedroom. When one of the mothers comes in to check on her baby son, there is love too in the crib, curled up beside him. Love murmurs, and the baby spits restlessly. The baby does not burn. The baby will eventually burn, but by then he will not be a baby. The woman looks down at the ghastly form of love, curled beside her son, and she thinks ‘what have I done?’ She cries, not because she is happy or sad, but because that is what her body needs to do next. Love rises from the crib, and passes her without a glance. Love is a shambling thing. It shambles out of her home."

and here i'd really like to redirect you to my post about cecil and his mother.

love has curled around cecil, almost like the thing in the mirror curled around his shoulders and digging in to draw blood. love has followed him since birth and doomed him. love is birth and death. love of his mother and love of his god.

if the smiling god is the unraveling of all things, and huntokar is the destruction of all things, is the serpent god the repair of all things? the bringing pieces back together? the future night vale will be delivered to?

and why children? why is the creature in the mirror a child and children were in the corn field and only children survived on earth in the mural?

children saved night vale from strexcorp because children could not be financially controlled. will children save night vale because they contain whimsy, imagination and belief? will their view of reality and the world keep them immune from the uowii? will the adults fall because of their unwavering faith in science? but the children will remain because just look at the state of the Children's Fun Fact Science Corner

a child saved desert bluffs too. it was in the play and imagination of a child the town was saved from kevin's hubris. will a child be what saves night vale from carlos' inaction and cecil's loyalty to his husband? will this child be esteban?

love curls around a son, after all

[ericsprincess]

you’re like an oasis in front of my eyes

You catch a big fish.

part 2

~~~

For you, the sea is the most beautiful at dawn. You love to watch the glittering of the water and the way it ripples through the wind. The weather is cold and the wind is blowing, but you just pull your jacket tighter around you and get to work. You have a lot to do and you don’t have time to just leisurely admire the sea. You’re the sole person manning this whole ship, so you have to move quickly, but it’s exactly how you like it. You like being responsible for yourself and your work, with no one to meddle or drag you down with their unnecessary opinions. Actually, you don’t like people much and prefer to be alone - that was actually the main reason you moved back to your hometown from the city, bought a fisherman ship and decided to put all the knowledge your fisherman dad taught you years ago to good use. 

First you prepare and untangle the net, then you attach it to the crane mechanism and then you let it rise up and throw it to the sea. Now you just have to wait. It always takes some time to fill it up, so you move to clean around the ship and prepare everything for the catch. You hum around some tune as you’re wiping the floor and cleaning your tools. Today is a nice day. 

After some time, you check the net on the crane. You try to raise it up and it seems that the motor is struggling a little bit more than usual, so you just decide it’s been enough time to pull it out. It’s really going a bit slower, and it makes you almost giddy - seems that today’s catch will be bountiful. The net, full to the brim with fish, rises from the sea, with water pouring out of it and you maneuver it over the deck. You let it flop down and release the hooks on the ends of the net. The net unfolds and the smaller fishes slide to the sides revealing…a really big fishtail? 

What, you think, but before you can do anything, the rest of the fish gets uncovered, and - it’s actually a man. But just the rest. The first half is still a fish. 

You’re so stunned that you’re just standing where you are and staring at him (It?). He’s lying amongst the rest of the catch, staring back at you with mouth open, quite literally like a fish out of water. He’s really handsome though, rings somewhere at the back of your brain. His skin is pale and clear, his hair is golden and glittering on the sun. Pretty delicate face with sharp features and lean muscular body, rivulets of water running down his torso. There is nothing on him except for a seashell pendant on a string hanging over his beautiful chest. Even his fishtail part looks gorgeous with beautiful shiny teal-coloured scales, not a one out of place. 

He gathers his wits first and quickly turns away from you, In a blink of an eye he slams his tail to the floor to bounce off and spring over the ship side back to the sea. Which would be a great idea, if his tail wouldn’t get immediately tangled in the net he was lying on. 

“Oh, for fuck’s…,” he curses and leans forward to pull the net off himself, but the sudden movement makes you snap out of it and you jump out to grab the nearest possible weapon - a harpoon. How ironic. 

“Don’t fucking move,” you hiss. “What the fuck are you?” You point the harpoon straight at him and he slowly raises his hands. 

“...is this rhetorical, or did your parents never read you bedtime stories? What the fuck do I look like?” he squints. 

“Ha ha,” you roll your eyes. “Is this some prank? Or are you some kind of cosplay weirdo taking it too far?”

“Cos-what? I literally just went for a swim and didn’t pay attention. I can assure you I’m real and not a weirdo,” he frowns and shakes his head, with droplets of water falling off his hair. “Could you, please, stop pointing that at me?” 

“No? Also, how the fuck are you real?” you’re borderline hysteric. What the hell is happening, did you really accidentally catch a whole fucking mermaid? (Merman? as your brain helpfully supplies)

“I don’t know!! How are you real?” he talks back and folds his arms. His tail slaps once on the ground, as if he were really annoyed now. 

You come closer to him, but you approach him from the tail fin end, you’re not risking him trying to rip out your harpoon from your hands - he would definitely succeed in that, judging by his muscle. Jesus, focus, stop staring at his arms, you scold yourself.

You crouch down and gently touch his tail fin with your fingertips. It’s real. You pinch the end between your thumb and finger and pull.

“HEY!” he leans forward to swat you away, “You’re going to ruin my tail, you idiot! Do you know how much it takes to make it look this good?” 

You stand up and take a step back. You’re still stunned. A whole real living merman, on your ship. A really hot one too. Stop it, he’s a fish. Do. not. thirst. after. a. fish, you scold yourself.

You have no idea what to do now. 

“What am I supposed to do with you now?” you breathe out and lower your harpoon. 

“Uh..may I suggest just throwing me off the ship? That would be preferable with me, to be quite honest,” he says, with a tone that clearly implies he’s too close to thinking you’re an actual idiot. 

“Don’t sass me,” you snap back. You realize you don’t want to do it. It’s not that you don’t want to not do it either, it’s just that…returning him back and ending this whole encounter after mere few minutes will make it less real. It’s like you’re afraid that if it ends this soon, you will forever question your sanity at that moment and always wonder if it ever happened. And you don’t want to do that. 

You’re hesitating and the silence drags on. 

“...sooooooo?” he prompts. Jesus he’s so annoying too.

“You know what?” you smirk. “I should just bind your hands and tail and drive back to the shore. I’m sure I can quickly find some aquarium to sell you for a lot of money to, and you can spend your days annoying sooo many people coming to ogle you, what do you think?” you laugh. 

He actually gets even paler at that. “You wouldn’t do that.”

He’s right, you wouldn’t. You would never do that to another being. And there is a reason you stray away from people yourself, too. 

“Maybe I would, maybe I wouldn’t…Do you have any better ideas?” you taunt him. 

“Uh…if you let me return, I can come back and bring you a lot of gold and silver? You humans like that, no?” he suggests, with unsure expression. He really seems afraid. 

“Not me through. Those things are useless for me.” you reply with a bored tone. That gets him a bit more nervous. 

“Or, or, I could maybe, make sure you’ll catch a lot of fish every day? I’d prefer to not have to do it though, they are kind of..my pets? But..I’ll do that if I have to,” he sounds sad about it and you feel like you’re crossing a line with your taunting. You immediately deny.

“No, I don’t need that,” you hurry to reply, and it seems to calm him down a little.

“What do you want then? What do humans even like? Fucking? Do you want me to pleasure you?” he asks curiously and you choke on your spit. You didn’t expect that, much less for him to throw this suggestion so eagerly. 

“Uh…uhh..what? N-no,” you stutter and he catches on that immediately. You can feel your face getting red. He got you there, and you both know it. Suddenly he looks all smug and back to his annoying self. He props himself up on his elbows and swings his tail, in what you can describe only as a flirty way. 

“You look like you’re interested, though. I could definitely do that for you,” he says and looks up and down your body in a way you could call appreciative at most. Sleazy, at the very least. “You’re definitely more than beautiful enough for me to fuck you,” he smirks. 

You’re caught off guard by the sudden confidence, and you speak without even thinking. “Fuck me?”, you look at his tail, smooth and shiny. “With what dick?” you wonder aloud. That makes him laugh. 

“Well…It could be arranged, but going by your response, I’m not sure you’re ready for that, then,” he replies easily. “I could just do it with my mouth then?”

It’s so tempting. Your face is read and you are already feeling you're getting aroused just from the nonchalant way  he’s speaking about it. And he’s handsome. Like, really handsome, both face and body, and you haven’t had anyone in so long. The horny part of your brain is frantically running in circles like a horde of horny rabbits, while the rational one is just desperately repeating. Don’t be a fishfucker. Don’t be a fishfucker. Do not fuck the fish.

He impatiently runs his fingers through his hair. Droplets of water fall from the golden strands like sparkles.

I’m gonna fuck the fish. “Okay. How are you going to do it?”

“Take off your clothes? Then just hop over me. Sit on my face,” he suggests and you just nod, incapable of any other reaction beyond blushing furiously.

You take all of your clothes, fully aware he’s staring at you the whole time. He’s not even trying to pretend not to, he’s taking in your whole body. His tail is slapping on the floor again. 

“What, are you looking forward to it?” you motion with your head at his tail which is almost buzzing with impatience. 

“Yeah? Obviously. I’ve never had a human woman before. I’m curious too,” he has the audacity to wink at you and you roll your eyes. 

You’re naked and you step over him. His eyes are immediately at your pussy, staring at how wet you already are, and as you go to kneel down, his hands grab your thighs to pull you down to his face quicker. You let him, but just as you’re almost touching his face, you stop, hovering just a tiny bit. 

“What’s your name?” you whisper.

“Hyunjae,” he breathes out and pulls you down the rest of the way. His warm tongue is immediately on your pussy, licking all over, as if he wanted to collect every drop of you. He seems to enjoy the taste and you briefly wonder if, and how, it’s different to what he’s used to. 

His tongue and lips feel so good on you, he’s trying to push you closer and closer to his face with his hands squeezing your ass, as if he didn’t care about air or breathing, and you let him. 

He’s licking over your folds, sucking your clit and flicking his tongue over it relentlessly. It’s so good you’re shaking and he has to hold you firmly so you don’t collapse.

After a bit he tries to push his tongue into you, as if chasing more of your taste, trying to get as deep as he can. He feels so good, he’s the best you’ve ever had, and he’s not even a human.

Even though his eyes are closed, you can tell he’s enjoying it too, from the way his eyelashes flutter, his muffled moans and sounds of his tail slapping on the floor. You wonder if he’s that much aroused, and how does it feel for him. 

You’re getting close with the way his tongue fucks into you and you can just moan and let him do his job, he seems dead set on making you come as hard as he can, and at times it feels like his tongue and mouth are everywhere, on and in you.

It hits you like a train and you’re shaking and spasming, while moaning his name and you can’t keep any balance anymore and have to fall down on the floor to the side next to him, but you’re holding his shoulder, to keep some sort of contact. His skin is wet and so warm. 

You’re out of breath, but you slowly come to your senses. He’s looking at you the whole time, face wet, eyes glossy. His cheeks are flushed and he looks almost feverish. You both take a few minutes to calm down, just lying next to each other, but he pulls you into his arms and you rest your head on his chest.

But you know this moment has to end, even if you really don’t want to. 

You sit up and pull the net off his tail, so it’s not tangled again. He’s free to go now. 

“How- how will I know this was real?” you helplessly speak your worry by accident. He looks at you oddly, as if he didn’t expect to hear this. He takes a moment to think, but then he takes off his seashell pendant and puts it over your head. 

“If you need a reminder, just blow into the seashell. It won’t make a lot of sound, but I will hear it and I’ll come meet you,” he says. 

“Oh….thank you.” You look at the seashell. It’s almost romantic of him.

“We can also fuck again, if you want,” he smirks. Spoke too soon.

Before you can come back with a remark, he thumps with his tail and suddenly he’s springing over the boat railings. He falls into the sea with a splash. 

You run to the railing and lean over, to see him one last time. He does a little flip in the water and smiles at you. 

“See ya, cute fisherwoman! Hopefully soon!” he salutes, and disappears in the depths of the sea.

You squeeze the seashell pendant in your hand. Yeah, definitely soon.

[keouil]

let us stand a chance

gojo and shoko are invited to megumi's pta meeting. 1k. gojo/shoko. fluff. also on ao3.

“You want me to what?”

The smile on Gojo’s face was starting to thin. Whispering under his breath, says lowly, “Hold my hand, Shoko.”

Shoko frowns, looking over at him in confusion. “But why.”

“Because,” Gojo mumbles from the corner of his mouth, smiling face still deceptively angled towards the hustle and bustle of Megumi’s school and body feigning casual. He was making grabby hands at her and she wanted to slap his arms away. “That’s what parents do or something. I looked it up online.”

“But we’re not parents,” Shoko deadpans. “Let alone his—”

“Oh my god!” Gojo snaps, turning to face her and match her glare with his own. From his peripheral he could see Megumi slowly start to inch away from them, bowing his head low in humiliation. “Just hold my damn hand, Shoko! Am I asking for the world! And Megumi, for the love of God, stop moving and stay there!”

Shoko reached for the neck of Megumi’s uniform, dragging him back and pinning him under her. “What is the big deal? We’re not here as his actual parents, you know.” 

Gojo bristles, forcefully taking Megumi away from her and covering his ears. “Not so loud!” he hisses. “Jesus Christ. It’s like you want us to lose custody or something.”

Shoko’s eyebrow twitches. “Again, we’re not—”

“Shh!” Gojo brings a finger to his lips, hushing her. His eyes were wide with thinly veiled alarm. Megumi was squirming from under his hold and trying to wiggle his way out, to no avail. “Just be quiet! We only have to endure this for a little while and you can go back to smoking and Megumi can pretend to not be relieved he actually has people show up to these things unlike half his classmates.”

Megumi finally manages to bite his way out of Gojo’s hand. “I’m not relieved,” he declares, glaring up at Gojo with all the snark a ten-year-old can possibly possess in that puny state. “I don’t want you here. I never did.”

“We can work on your communication skills later,” Gojo remarks, ruffling the top of his head. After a while he frowns, crouches down, and begins to fervently obsess over a barely visible stain on his uniform. “Didn’t we just get this dry-cleaned last week? What if your teacher sees this and thinks you don’t have enough clean clothes? What if—”

It's that time the doors to Megumi’s classroom finally open.

An elderly woman emerges into the hall, her face dotted with the telling signs of aged sun spots and an easy smile tugging at her eyes graced with crow's feet. Immediately Gojo softened at the gentle oba-san vibe she gave off. 

“Megumi-chan? Are these your…” she searches for the words slowly. “...guardians?”

“We prefer the term life savers,” Gojo beckons forward, reaching a hand out and flashing her his signature smile. “Guardian is too stuffy.”

“Ah,” Megumi’s teacher smiles knowingly, giving him a firm handshake of her own. “You must be Gojo Satoru then.”

Gojo makes a barely audible squeaking sound. “Yes,” he gushes. “Why yes, that’s me. Megumi-kun must—”

“Megumi here won’t stop talking about you in class,” the teacher supplies, shooting him a knowing look. “He keeps saying you’re way too involved in his life and thinks you don’t have one of your own if you keep meddling in his,” she continues breezily. Behind him, he can hear Shoko snickering. “But you know how boys his age are. They complain about everything.”

For the second time in just a few minutes, Gojo’s smile was starting to fray. “Yes,” he coughs to mask the lump in his throat. “That he does.”

“I’m sorry, miss, I didn’t catch your name,” the teacher looks behind him, at Shoko who had her hands on Megumi’s shoulders and was looking way too amused for her own good. “You are..?”

"The one who actually saves this kid’s life,” Shoko says, at the same time Gojo quips back, “Female influence.”

They exchanged a look. 

Megumi steps forward and addresses his teacher. “Ieiri-san is my doctor. This man is.. just Gojo. Or whatever.”

Gojo has half the mind to wack him on the head. But maybe not now, not when there’s other people present and he could potentially lose the guardianship status he fought tooth and nail for. And maybe not now, when Megumi has a shit-eating grin on his face at knowing exactly what he wants to do to him and why he can’t exactly do it. Just yet. 

Gojo coughs again. “Well then,” he turns back to the teacher, all fake smiles. “Shall we get started?”

-

“Honestly that went better than I expected.”

“You called her mommy and begged her to fix you,” Shoko points out while cutting the crusts off Megumi’s tonkatsu sando. “And if that wasn’t humiliating enough, you talked shit about every single one of his classmates and threatened to sue the school if they wouldn’t stop making orphan jokes.”

They were at the top floor of Shibuya Sky, lounging on the rooftop cafe and as Gojo liked to say, look down at the peasants below. Megumi was given two options as a reward for shutting his mouth the entire meeting: it was either a) a Gojo-free day of his choice, or b) an omakase at one of Tokyo’s famous dining spots. He of course chose the former and wanted to cash it in now, today, this instant; much to Gojo’s chagrin who also and of course, to no one’s surprise, expertly maneuvered the conversation and everyone else into agreeing to the latter like they knew he would do.

“Well someone has to do it!” Gojo insists, pushing a plate of tempura to Megumi who was frowning down at everything like usual. “Kids these days have no manners.”

“But isn’t he already dealing with it himself though?” Shoko asks. “The kid beat up a classmate twice his size. I feel like we should be giving him more credit here.”

“The kid can hear you,” mumbles Megumi, munching on a piece of sashimi and refusing everything Gojo was beckoning him to eat. 

“Right, but well, of course,” Gojo ignores him, tearing open a pack of wasabi and mixing it with soy sauce the way he knew Megumi liked to take his sushi. “I mean I can’t have anyone living under my roof and not knowing how to pull a punch or two.”

Shoko looks at him pointedly. “He’s ten.”

“And about to be eleven soon,” Gojo supplies matter-of-factly. “Which means he’s about to enter secondary school. The kids are going to be meaner. We need to make him the meanest.”

“Honestly,” Shoko sighs, shoulders sagging. “Why not just let him be a kid for now? He hasn’t even shown any signs for j-u-j-u-t-s-u yet, so why bother?”

“I can spell too,” Megumi supplies, sitting between them, uncaring and now apparently so disinterested in the food and everything he had to make it everyone’s problem. “I’m not dumb.”

“That you are not,” Gojo admonishes proudly, gesturing to him with his chopsticks. Of course he chose that moment to acknowledge his existence. “I mean, have you seen his grades? Not bad, right?”

“No, he’s actually quite smart,” Shoko comments, the ghost of a smile on his face. “Maybe we should keep having Ijichi as his home tutor.”

“Should?” Gojo scoffs. “I think we have no choice but to have him on permanent payroll. That's fine with you, right, Megumi?”

Megumi shrugs.

“That’s a yes,” Shoko translates, filling his cup with water.

“And what was that all about them thinking you were my girlfriend?” Gojo laughs, an airy thing, and if it weren’t for the red tinge on his ears Megumi would have believed his nonchalance. “Like, hello. I already told them we weren’t like that.”

Shoko shrugs. “Both our names are on his emergency file.”

“Yeah but that part about seeing us pick him up from school everyday?” Gojo continues, trying to catch Shoko’s eye that was busy looking over at the speciality dessert menu and encouraging Megumi to choose whichever he liked. “So like—what—they just assume we were together because of that?” 

“You introduce us as his parents to every single teacher you meet,” Shoko glances at him from the top of the menu. “It’s only natural people will draw their conclusions.”

“You didn’t bother correcting them.”

“I didn’t need to,” Shoko says distractedly. “That look on Megumi’s face was confirmation enough.”

At this Gojo’s eyes snap to Megumi’s—now so obviously entertained and devious and childish—that he shoots him back with a look of accusation. Whispering lowly, he retorts, “Thanks for that, by the way.”

Megumi’s smile morphs into a shit-eating grin. “Anytime.”

“And anyway, would it be so bad?” Gojo turns his attention back to Shoko, who had just finished rattling off an order for matcha tiramisu (Megumi’s favourite) and daifuku tsubuan (Gojo’s favourite). “If people thought we were together, I mean.”

Shoko cocks an eyebrow. “Yes,” she says. “Why are you even asking?”

“What would be so bad about it?”

“Aside from the fact we’re lying?”

“Could have fooled them, apparently.”

Shoko sighs. “Gojo,” she starts. “They were a group of 50-something women who think people Megumi’s age are the future of our generation and spoil them rotten. Of course they would be hopeless romantics too.”

“Guess we have that in common then,” Gojo smirks.

Shoko scoffs. “You’re not a hopeless romantic.”

Gojo leans in closer, still smirking. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

Megumi coughs once. “No, I really wouldn’t.”

“Not now, Megumi,” Gojo pushes him back. “The grown-ups are talking.”

“Tell me one thing that you find romantic,” Shoko challenges, crossing her arms.

Gojo tilts his head to the side, thinking. “Oh, I don’t know,” he muses. “I think going on weekly dinners to catch up with each other is nice. Scheduling movie dates where you both take turns picking which film to watch can be quite lovely too. I wouldn’t mind going on late konbini runs and walking to the nearest park to talk about whatever, either.”

“But those aren’t romantic,” Shoko rolls her eyes. “We’ve been doing that for years.”

Gojo waits patiently for her brain to catch up. Shoko is the smartest tool in the shed he knows, but it’s times like this he can see the lack of common sense she has sometimes. But when it clicks, oh.

Shoko’s eyes snap to him.

“You have got to be fucking kidding me.”

[inkwolvesandcoffee]

A Possible Crossover?

Okay, so I have a huge crush on Charlie Hunnam and watched The Gentlemen for the nth time (brilliant movie, highly recommend it). And it got me thinking about a crossover with Peaky Blinders.

Totally not only watching it for him… no, really! I seriously love it.

Anyway, what about a little rivalry between two wolves, the Wolf King of Camden and Law of Hammersmith and The Blood Hound of Kensington and Chelsea?😏

Just imagine being courted by Raymond Smith, Micky Pearson’s right hand, and him trying to not let his world interfere with yours. Bottles of fine whiskey, luxurious dinners at restaurants that leave you wondering how the hell he’s able to pay for them or at his estate (which is oddly large for a man living alone), trips around the UK and Ireland (often he’ll rent a holiday home outside the city or in the countryside, preferably the latter so you’re safe and he can let his inner Wolf out without anyone seeing him).

Since meeting you, Raymond is trying to get clean entirely. No more White Widow Super Cheese. He’s asked Bunny for help and together they’re working on it.

Alfie, on the other hand, courts you the old-fashioned way by leaving you flowers, handwritten notes, and homebaked goods. He especially prides himself on his soda bread, made according to an old family recipe. There are very few people who know about it and its exquisite taste because he doesn’t sell it at his bakery. However, each time you drop by, he makes sure to serve you a sandwich made from it and give you a loaf before you leave.

Though he knows he has his own vices as well, drugs is one he’s never meddled in. Nevertheless, that’s not to say he doesn’t know about the dangers of the criminal underbelly dealing in them. As such, it makes him highly uncomfortable you’re associating with one of the top dogs (no pun intended) in the industry. Henceforth, it requires a lot of patience, suppressed growls and snarls, and hiding of fangs whenever you drop by with Ray at your side.

Alfie’s well aware you adore his bakery and he makes you your coffee exactly the way you like it. So the last thing he wants to do is ruin the time you spend there, in his most personal part of London. But whenever the other Wolf is at your side, his own floats to the surface enough to be unleashed if he loses his composure for even a split second. He’ll try his best to keep his temper in check, but the seething violence mixed with jealousy will show in how he’ll grumble his way through the conversation, shorter than usual, and avoid your gaze. Ray he just completely ignores.

Fortunately, you never fail to catch the apologetic glances in your direction nor turn a blind eye to the way he hangs his head as he offers you a basket with baked goods before you head out.

Each time it happens, he hopes you’re alone next time.

Because then he might finally have the courage to sit down for a cup of coffee with you.

Ngl, I’m kinda here for this concept. Might have a crack at it sometime soon.🤔

Tag list: @buttercupsandboys @hecatemoon87 @potter-solomons @zablife @liliac-dreamer @babaohhhriley @dreamlandcreations @wandawiccan60 @solomons-finest-rum @alikaheroes @rose-like-the-phoenix @vir-tual