#a bed that is literally falling apart and dead from age

[honestlyreadingruinedmylife]

That’s amazing. Of course everyone needs to start somewhere. Of course I understand not everyone likes writing smut.

Young Charles Xavier x reader. She’s also has a mutation. She’s kicked out by her parents when they find out that her boyfriend is in a wheelchair. She turns up in the pouring rain with her puppy under her jacket to keep them dry and a black eye because her dad hit her (you don’t have to write that just imply it)

Hope that’s not to detailed but wanted to give you as much detail as I could to help you write it.

Can you please tag me in any future X-Men fanfiction you write.

Xx

A.N: Okay, I finally got around to finishing this. I'm actually quite proud of it given it's my first time EVER writing fanfiction and especially with it being a request. I hope you enjoy it even though it is a bit cliche at times. Also, there is slight ableism given the prompt, I did some research to make sure I wasn't using any slurs but if I am wrong PLEASE let me know. I will change it.

Word Count: 1251

Pairing: Young Charles Xavier x Female!Reader

Warnings: Ableism (Only a small sentence), gets kind angsty

You didn’t really know how they had found out. You were so careful. Building a wall of lies so thick and so far that you could no longer see the ends. 

You suppose that somewhere along the lines you’d missed a spot, one vital brick that tumbled down the entirety of your life. 

Your parents had only just started getting around to the idea of having a ‘freak’ of a daughter. Constantly telling you how lucky you were to at least look ‘normal’ and not like those ‘other ones’. 

You were one of the good ones. 

They had laid the rules out simply. They didn’t care about your abilities as long as they stayed outside the house and as long as you married a ‘regular human being’. It seemed simple enough and studying for a masters (which they paid for) you figured one more year of hiding wouldn’t be so difficult.

What you never considered was falling madly in love with another mutant. You’d been convinced for so long that you were completely alone in the walls you’d built, that when you met a man who could literally tear them apart you had no choice but to let yourself go.

The argument had started at dinner. It’d been a long day of research which had resulted in nothing but a dead end. Exhausted from sitting reading at a desk all day, you just wanted to get through the traditional family dinner and get straight into bed.

You were sitting in your usual chair, facing your mother while your father sat at the head of the table. It’d been eerily silent from the moment you’d sat down but didn’t mind given your exhaustion.

Suddenly, your father put down his utensils, “I’ve set up a dinner, next week with the neighbors boy,”

Thinking you hadn’t heard correctly, you turn to face him, “pardon?”

“It’s about time that you start thinking of settling down,” your father continues, “most normal girls your age are on their way to having their first child,”

You hear the implication in his voice even if he hadn’t outright said it. Irritated, you push your plate away.

“I am a normal girl, dad,” 

You hear your mother sigh, but you can’t seem to look away from your fathers face that twitches in irritation.

“You know what I meant,” he says your name as if it's a burden. He says it as if you were a curse on his normalcy.

You roll your eyes, “yes I know exactly what you meant, father, and I’m not going to be dressed up like some doll to be paraded for the neighbors boy,”

Another twitch, you know you are pushing him too far, but you can’t seem to care anymore.

“He is of good breeding and a wealthy background,” he picks up his utensils again, “the dinner will be on Monday,”

“Breeding?! I’m not cattle, father,” 

Your fathers face contorts into a scowl and you know he’s losing patience with you, “He will assure you are the last of your kind in my bloodline,”

You can feel your whole body shaking, “I will not go to that dinner, father,”

You hear your mother whisper your name, you suddenly realize that the shaking wasn’t just within your body but the whole house. With your emotions rampant you couldn’t control your powers as naturally as you normally could.

Breathing in and breathing out, you calm yourself enough to stop the shaking. Your father, however, is maroon with malice. You have pushed him too far.

“I will not let my grandchildren be the offspring of a freak and a paralytic!”

You feel your heart stop. Your mind is racing, unstoppable thoughts wreak havoc in your head. He knew. He knew and now your life is over.

“Father-”

“You thought I wouldn’t find out?” Your father continues to yell, “you thought I’d let you disobey me without consequence?”

You could feel your breathing increase as you enter a panic. Everything is muffled, your father continues yelling but you can’t hear a thing he is saying. You have to get away. You have to get to Charles. 

Without realizing, you stand, turning to leave the table, trying to find an escape. With one step, your father is in front of you, rough hands clamping down on your shoulders, forcing you still.

“Let me go,” you whisper, looking down away from your father. 

“I forbid you from seeing that man again!” 

“Let me go,” you feel the ground tremble beneath you.

“He’s one of you isn’t he?” Your fathers grip tightens on your shoulders, “he’s a freak!”

“Let me go!” You shout back in his face. You don’t initially feel the strike, but you can feel the heat begin to blossom around your eye. And you feel the ground erupt into endless shudders as you watch your father lose his balance and fall to the floor.

With the last of your strength, you run towards your room grabbing your research and your puppy that likes to sleep under your bed. As you race to the front door, you glance at your mother fussing over your father, who is still laid on the floor.

Stopping you turn to face your parents, “I am not a freak. Just because I am different doesn’t mean I’m lesser than,”

You turn to open the front door and with foot out your childhood home, you turn one last time, “I’ll never treat my children the way you’ve treated me, mutant or not,”

With those final words, you run into the rain, hailing the first taxi you see.

It wasn’t until you were at Charles’ front door, drenched and with your puppy under your coat, that you realized how bleak your situation truly was. 

No home, no parents, no education. 

With nothing left to lose, you knock as loudly as you can, hoping anyone would hear you over the pounding rain.

Almost immediately, the door swings open. 

Hank at first looks at you with confusion and then concern. He drags you inside and in the same breath yells for Charles.

The second you see Charles look of concern as he approaches you, you feel the tears start to form in your eyes. Finally able to let go, you feel yourself crumble with the weight of the night.

In no time, Charles holds you in his arms, stroking your soaked hair, whispering into your ear, “it’s okay darling you’re safe now, you’re safe here,”

Once you’ve calmed down, you pull away from him holding your own weight again. His hands don’t leave your face, careful with your already bruising eye.

He whispers your name. He whispers it like prayer, like there’s no one else in the world except you and him. He strokes your cheek with his thumb, “How about we run you a warm bath?”

With no strength left to speak and knowing you didn’t need to, you nod into his hands, closing your eyes and soaking in the comforting warmth he exudes. From within your jacket, you feel your puppy shuffle, stuck in between your torso and Charles’ legs. Pulling away slightly, your puppy leaps away from you and begins sniffing around Charles’ wheelchair.

“I see you’ve brought a friend, darling,” he chuckles, as he watches your puppy continuing to adventure.

You hiccup trying to find the words, “I couldn’t leave him in that house,”

Charles looks back at you, his blue eyes wide with adoration, “he has a home here, he’ll always a home here,”

[tothepointofinsanity]

Observation Log Series: Sayaka [III]

Today on: Visual metaphors for depression and the actual “magic of friendship”.

Images are taken from this Magia Record game video on YouTube.

I am pretty sure someone else in the ages past had already covered this bit, so I suppose I will add this to the archives for my own documentation purpose. Or for just anyone who feels like reading it, really.

Sayaka’s magical girl transformation in this sequence is very interesting. There are a lot of jokes about how she’s yeeted everywhere by the Holy Quintet in her own transformation, so here are the notes:

The beginning of her transformation is shot in the sequence of a downward spiral. Sayaka falls through the hoops and into the ocean as her opening, a reference to her descent into madness (keep in mind: the sea as a metaphor for an inescapable expanse of darkness; the abyss) in the main show, as well as her deteriorating mental health. The spiral drawn to resemble piano keys (🎹) is also no coincidence, but they break apart when Sayaka plummets past them, much like music becoming discordant and incoherent.

Right after that, she gets thrown around respectively by her friends, each of whom gets her to the destination of being fully transformed. What is important to notice is that for the majority of this part, you cannot see Sayaka’s face, and she appears completely indifferent and motionless as others pass her around without hassle. You would think someone like Sayaka, who typically exhibits stubborn tendencies, would be resistant to being literally thrown around, but I feel that there are reasons for this:

• Sayaka being shown not as weightless, but rather as something heavy that makes an impact wherever she goes. She’s literally dead weight in the water despite her Witch being a mermaid. There is no attempt whatsoever we see from her where she tries to swim gracefully or float naturally in the sea. She just seems to be…there, being moved rather than performing her transformation by herself like all the other magical girls.

• The Holy Quintet are the essence of friendship that help Sayaka not necessarily out of her depression, but rather giving her a massive boost by flinging her to the next appropriate person. Given she is portrayed as dead weight, she doesn’t transform manually and do fancy dances, instead heavily reliant on the support of the crew to help her get changed. The sequence where she’s thrown onto the bed and lies there before being flung out again is very reminiscent of the tragedy that individuals struggling with mental health problems can barely get out of bed on their own at times, even to the point where it seems they might never leave said bed. Homura has to pick up Sayaka in a bag before tossing her to Kyoko, where it unfurls and it becomes her cape.

It is also interesting to note that the bed is surrounded by mirrors of all sizes and shapes that don’t reflect Sayaka at all, but rather the oceanic creatures and environment. Her self image is nonexistent and replaced by the sea. When she’s thrown to Kyoko, it is only then she is “stopped”, and we finally get to see her face. Her hair is long, unlike the appearance of her short hair that we are used to. Kyoko helps her with the last part of her transformation by putting on the gold hair pin.

Kyoko being the one to not throw Sayaka but rather casually stop said impact is likely symbolic of their relationship. The ocean is stopped by the unmovable rock.

• In the very last part, Sayaka appears standing on a platform that arises from the sea, and only then she seems fully refreshed and ready to go. Once again, instead of swirling out of the water or something, she needs something solid to stand on and raise her to the surface as she is incapable of doing so herself. Her entire transformation seems to highlight that others need to be on standby to support her, or else she will likely just dwindle and sink motionlessly to the bottom of the ocean. By the way she’s posed, it also seems to imply that she has complete trust in her friends, who were there at every turn to assist her transformation.

Something else I thought about as well is the irony that despite being mermaid coded in terms of her own Witch and backstory, Sayaka is almost always portrayed as a sinking vessel the moment she hits the water. A finless mermaid, yet frustratingly a mermaid that cannot even swim or float. I find that this interpretation would fit into the existing narrative that Sayaka and the Incubators view her as useless or inadequate. What good a mermaid who sinks in the sea? What good a magical girl who needs others to help her transform proper? Noting that Sayaka’s transformation always involves her emerging out of water seems to tell us that she has always pulled her weight out of the abyss by herself.

TLDR: It wouldn’t hurt to show that Sayaka requires support from everyone in order to do her best.

[morgana-ren]

Overstimulation with Astarion makes w head go burrrrrrr

Astarion is a vampire. And vampires can go on forever—

In more ways than one.

Maybe it's the dead blood that courses through his veins that gives him the extra vigor. Maybe it's the hundreds of years that he's had to learn to move his body in ways that leave you breathless. Maybe it's that he doesn't have to stop and catch his breath— ever.

Either way, you see those pale, pillowy lips crook upward just enough to show a slip of ivory fang in his mouth as you approach your peak. That same mischievous smile that drew you into his bed to begin with.

Again.

And hey, you can't be blamed. It's fun!

At first.

But after the second or third time, it borders on a form of painful that words can scarce describe. Raw edged and red, body spasming and mind pleading— screaming— enough. Suddenly your body isn't big enough for the two of you and he's not leaving any room for you to exist or even breathe. Thighs rubbed to dust and chafing around his hips as he spears in again and again and again, hissing a pointed giggle as he does.

Every languid gyration of his pelvis hits somewhere that has you screaming and clawing at him, leaving red, ragged streaks across his skin that he wears like a tiger would wear its stripes; a badge of honor— of pride. You can't even pant out his complete name into his mouth, stumbling and stuttering across syllables that he greedily swallows down.

His claws are so terribly sharp but he only uses them in the best ways, and as the pale pads of his fingertips find your core, dread mingles with excitement and then the inevitable onset of 'Oh Gods, oh Gods, oh Gods—' because you physically cannot handle it.

Save it doesn't really matter what you can or can't handle. He finds it fun to push you over the edge again, so over it you go.

Maybe it's the ego boost, or perhaps it's the power. Maybe it's the vulnerability of you clinging to him against your own will, quite literally putty in his skillful hands. Maybe it's the way your body squeezes and milks him dry every time he does it, damn near sucking what's left of his eternal soul clean from him and into you. Maybe it's the way your bleary eyes blink little silver tears that fall down the delicate curve of your cheek as you beg him enough.

But it's only over when he says it's over. It's only over when he's had enough, and as he's told you before, he's a man of tremendous appetites. He's had ages beyond ages to understand how to pluck the delicate strings of the human body apart piece by piece and he plays you like a damn fiddle every time you dance with him.

And even as the orgasm subsides as you peer up at him with pleading eyes, he only smiles and hushes you with a devouring kiss, movements only slowing to draw out every whiny breath from between your lips before spurring onward again in ruthless, reckless rhythm. Even as your vision tunnels and you lose any sense of coherency, he's as constant as the winds and the tide, and just as eternal.

He'll leave you wrecked and ruined, dashed on the rocks only to be drawn back out into the hazy pink sea of pleasure once more. And as you feel that pressure spring in the base of your spine start to coil like a serpent once again, all he does is laugh into the crook of your neck, asking if you're tired already.

Perhaps next time you pick a bedfellow, make it one who needs to sleep eventually, because Bane knows he does not, and he is hellbent on making that your problem.

[urcrowley]

Floral Flame

— Florist!Touya X Reader —

(NO QUIRKS AU , I NEED TO HEAL 🤚🤚🤚)

YOGiNotes: I can’t believe I’m writing this but here we are!! We need more male reader fics guys.. I feel left out /j

(EVERYONE LITERALLY DRAGGED ME TO THE DABI BRAINROT!1!1! STOP THIS MADNESSSSSS)

Completely made this in a rush and out of boredom! I apologize for any spelling and/or grammar mistakes. It is a bit short for my liking but I do hope you still enjoy! 🙏

Warnings: some swearing ig (?) ; very unfunny author ; angst will cook soon (not in this chapter though….)

“My flower…”

Y/N muttered to himself, staring at the now-wilted flower. With a gentle touch, he reached out and tapped one of the fragile petals, watching as it detached from the wilting bloom and fell to the ground.

“I should probably ask that old hag for some advice again, huh?”

He was talking about the older yet amicable woman who ran the flower shop just a few blocks away from his apartment. He regretted not remembering her name. With a less-than-careful tug, Y/N detached his backpack from the corner where it had been gathering dust and carelessly dumped its contents onto the bed, each item making a soft thump sound as it hit the mattress. Y/N cautiously placed the flower pot into his bag once everything was out and grabbed a random coat from the rack beside the door. As he walked out, he tried to tie his shoes while keeping up with his pace.

Almost causing himself to fall.

Well, almost.

He strolled over to his locked bicycle, hopping on it shortly. He rode his bicycle to the shop. But when he arrived..

He was not greeted to the usual ‘good day’ of the kind old woman; rather, a man who didn’t look too far off his own age.

‘This guy definitely listens to mcr..’

Y/N thought to himself, as he waved at the guy. Putting up a front, smiling politely.

“Excuse me? Do you know where—“

“She’s not here today.”

…okay, rude?

“Oh.. When will she—“

“Next week.”

This guy was getting on Y/N’s nerves if he was being completely honest.

“Who are you anyways?”

Y/N was only met with silence and a cold blank stare. He stared back because— well, to be Frank, he didn’t know what else to do.

“I work here.”

“That doesn’t answer my question.”

He could hear the man click his tongue in annoyance.

“I don’t have to answer to you,” he rolled his eyes, “now, do you need help with anything or something?”

“Is that how you usually treat your customers?”

“…yeah? So what?”

“Nothing, just saying it’s a big.. contrast to what I’m used to.”

The man's gaze fixed on Y/N with a steely glare, his eyes narrowing as if affronted by Y/N's audacity to utter such a statement. “Whatever.. just tell me what you need so we can be done here.”

“Right.. so um..”

Y/N withdrew the flower from his backpack and gingerly placed it on the counter of the checkout. He then glanced up at the man, a sheepish smile playing on his lips.

“I don’t know what went wrong.. I did what I was told and kept managing my watering time..”

Dabi, as indicated by his nametag, meticulously examined the flower, leaning closer to get a better look. It was clear the flower was already dead, leaving him to ponder Y/N's actions beforehand. Y/N, however, contemplated if Dabi was thinking something profound like 'this plant hadn't received the precise amount of water it required,' or if it was something stupid simple and meaningless like ‘I wonder what I’ll have for dinner later.’

Jokes on him, Dabi was thinking of both.

Dabi let out a sigh and rolled up his sleeves, revealing the tattoos on his arms. Y/N was tempted to take a peek, but quickly reminded himself not to be nosy. However, despite his best efforts to focus, he couldn't help but sneak a quick glance at the intricate ink designs on Dabi's skin.

‘Shittt.. that’s sick.’

Y/N thought before quickly snapping out of it.

“Did you make sure your flower gets enough sunlight every day?”

“…what?”

“Your flower?? Gets sunlight?? Hello??”

“……”

Dabi slowly shifted his gaze towards Y/N, his face betraying a mixture of disbelief and surprise. His expression seemed to convey a silent question, as if wondering what on earth Y/N was even doing to this poor plant.

“Are you fucking with me right now?”

“…no.”

The two stared at each other…

After a moment of silence, Y/N spoke up again. “How was I supposed to know this flower needed sunlight?”

“Google exists.”

“I’m a busy man!”

“Busy doing what? Being uneducated?”

DAMN, that hurt more that it was supposed to.

“Okay.. okay, it’s a dumb mistake on my part. Can I buy another one to try again?” Y/N puts his hands on his hips, waiting for Dabi’s answer. “Well.. I don’t have a choice I guess.” Dabi said, the sound of defeat evident in his tone. He walked away to find the same flower as Y/N stood there.

Y/N found himself strangely familiar with the odd man before him. There was something about him that he couldn't quite pinpoint, and it frustrated him. Crossing his arms in annoyance, Y/N observed Dabi carefully examining the flower selection. He realized maybe he should cut the newbie some slack since he just started working here after all.

Dabi finally located the specific flower Y/N had requested and assisted in transferring it to a fresh pot. He then helped Y/N carefully tuck the potted flower into the latter's backpack, gently securing it in place.

“Thanks, I appreciated the help.”

“Ugh, please never come back.”

Y/N snorted at that, almost unable to hold his laughter. He handed his payment to Dabi, and waved goodbye.

“Unfortunately for you, new guy, I’m a regular here!”

He said as he walked out of the store.

Dabi— no, Touya exhaled a frustrated sigh once that idiot guy was gone. He hated working at the flower shop but knew he had no choice. His current situation forced him to hide, and this job was a means to keep a low profile. He longed for a better life, but for now, he was stuck here in this cramped shop, surrounded by fragrant blooms.

Welp, that’s the life of a man on the run he supposed..

YEEEE HE HAS EDGY BACKSTORY WOAHH 🫵🫵😮😮😮😮

This chapter is just me trying to get the idea out of my head, I swear I’ll cook better in the next one ☹️☹️☹️💥💥💥💥

This was supposed to be an artwork idea but I couldn’t really draw rn

Also, mind you, I’m posting this at 3AM in my timezone, PLEASE PLEASE EXCUSE THE BADWRITIGNNFNF 😭😭😭😭

(I am ashamed of myself 😞)

[cosmerenewbie]

The cosmerenewbie update

*the final 400 pgs of WoR*

08/08/24

‼️SPOILERS FOR WOR BELOW THE CUT‼️

Kaladin & Adolin are finally starting to become friends I’m SO HAPPY this will be a bromance for the ages

SYL WHERE DID YOU GO

syl please don’t be dead

It’s actually kinda funny how unkillable Kaladin is

I’m actually really stressed now

I get where the shalkadolin shippers are coming from all of a sudden

AMARAM GETTING FOUND OUT FUCK YEAH

sad he didn’t get killed but beggars can’t be choosers ig

RLAIN IS BACK

Final battle go brrrrr

Kaladin go to bed

Sebarial<3

Aladar slay

Everything is happening very fast wowee

EVERSTOrm

GOD???

Ok just part of him

Kaladin please don’t bleed out

SYL IS BACK IN THE FUCKING BUILDING

Moash </3 I LIKED YOU

Szeth >:(

The plateau being the portal was not at all a plot twist for me bc I assumed it was the portal the whole time like i thought that was implied

Kaladin please don’t die

EVERYONE GET THROUGH THE PORTAL MAKE HASTE

Babe wake up Urithiru was just rediscovered

Lopen’s mom mothering Elhokar was not on my WoR bingo card but I’m living for it

Szeth is not dead oops

Hehe murder

WHY IS DALINAR’S SPREN LITERALLY THE STORMFATHER

Everything is falling apart but it’s ok bc everyone is together & the gay autistic prince is a knights radiant

Ready for book 3 hehehe

[downwiththeficness]

Shadow and Veil-Chapter Twenty Six

Summary: Eva Moore’s life was a carefully constructed fiction.  Every day, she did exactly what her mother in law, her husband, and his  best friend expected of her. No mistakes. And, that was going pretty  well for Eva right up until a huge complication literally tried to run  her over. Now, she’s faced with trying to keep the pieces of her life  from falling apart while attempting (and failing) to keep her feelings  for her husband’s new business partner at bay.

A/N: This fic is a sister-fic to A Need So Great and A Need Unleashed.  You do not need to have read ANSG or ANU to read this fic, but there  are Easter eggs from those fics in Shadow and Veil for readers with keen  eyes.  This fic is explicit for canon-compliant blood, gore, violence,  and sex. As such, it is intended for an adult audience, only. A/B/O  dynamics come with their own warning. Anyone under the age of 18 should  not interact with this work. I do not consent to reposting this work to  other platforms. Reblog only to Tumblr.  

Word Count: 2,300

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Masterlist            Read on AO3

She stole away in the dead of night. There was no other time to escape the notice of her husband and Eva definitely did not want to be caught.

Something wasn’t right when he got back to the house. Eva did her best to do everything exactly the same as she always did—meetings, spreadsheets, a cup of coffee too late in the day. But, the heaviness that fell over the both of them refused to lift no matter how many mundane activities she forced herself through.

Josh was becoming more manic by the day. Alexei was almost never around. And, Horacio was uncharacteristically silent.

The pressure made her skittish. It forced her to make a phone call to rearrange a previously scheduled appointment.

Eva slipped out the terrace doors and around the side of the house. She carefully put the car in neutral and rolled it out of her driveway, letting the decline of the street carry her half a block in the wrong direction before she felt safe enough to put it in drive.

The night was cold. Frost was dusting the edges of the windshield and the heater was taking too long to catch up. Eva grit her teeth against the shivers and kept driving. There wasn’t much traffic, but she kept her speed under the limit. She stopped fully at every stop sign and monitored her mirrors. It wasn’t until she hit a red light that she realized her hands were shaking.

She was afraid.

A suspicion that nagged at the back of her mind was slowly moving forward to overtake other thoughts. Eva couldn’t be sure, but it felt like Josh knew. Knew that she was planning on leaving him. Knew where she spent the last weekend. Knew who she spent that weekend with.

It was like a fever dream, so fragile that the lightest application of rational thinking might shatter the whole thing. They didn’t leave the apartment for two days. He cooked meals for her, dishes that she’d never had. Introduced her to spices and flavors she couldn’t find at the local grocer. He paid attention to the things she liked, added more to the next meal.

It was much the same way in bed.

Eva’s body warmed as she recalled waking on the second day. She was laying on her side and she could feel Horacio curled around her. His palm was rubbing a slow path from her waist down to her hip and further down to her thigh. When he noticed she was awake, his hand took a new path at the top to cup her breast.

His thumb circled her nipple lazily before rolling the sensitive tip between two fingers. Eva sighed and leaned back into his chest. She could feel him half hard against the small of her back. How long had he been awake? Eva couldn’t see the clock, but the light in the room was a pale gray.

Horacio’s mouth touched her shoulder. She arched her neck, releasing another sigh when he rested his forehead into the curve and inhaled deeply. His hand smoothed down her stomach and teased the skin in the crease of her hip. She lifted her leg and rested it on the thigh he pressed forward.

Warm fingers skimmed her slit, spreading the folds. He massaged the hidden nerves on either side with a touch that was enough to bring her fully into waking but not enough to go beyond the first hint of arousal.

Up. Down. Slow, slow, slow.

Eva whined and pushed her hips into his hand, earning a sleep roughed laugh from Horacio. He just kept going at the slow pace until she was warm and wet and swollen. It didn’t matter if she begged. A ‘please’ or ‘more’ wasn’t going to deter him.

When she thought she might cry from the need blooming from her center, Horacio leaned over and spoke low and sweet into her ear, “You know what I’m thinking?”

Her ‘what?’ was lost in the constant sighs and moans pouring out of her throat.

He pulled his hand from between her legs and rolled her to her back. Looking directly into her eyes, he said, “I’m thinking that its time for breakfast.”

Eva was confused right up until he dropped down under the covers.

The light turned green.

Breaths coming faster, Eva dug her foot into the accelerator and made the merge onto the highway. The headlights rolled over asphalt, each mile taking her closer and closer to downtown. She didn’t bother trying to hide her car this time. There was no one out and about to notice.

Eva hurried into the building and up the stairs to Bobbi Lynn’s door. She knocked quietly and took a step back to wait. Movement on the other side of the door. It opened and Bobbi Lynn waived her inside. She looked both ways down the hall before closing the door.

Bobbi Lynn looked stressed. Her normally meticulously styled hair was pulled into a messy braid and there were dark circles under her eyes.

“What’s wrong?”

Her mouth pursed, “I think you need to go tonight.”

Eva blinked at her, “Why?”

Moving past Eva, Bobbi Lynn sat on the couch and patted the cushion next to her, “My husband was at the country club, too.”

With wooden steps, Eva went to the couch and sat down. She folded her hands in her lap and waited for Bobbi Lynn to explain.

“Eva,” she began, “I am so sorry. I didn’t know what was going on.”

Her mind whirred with the many interpretations to that sentence. Was it Josh beating the shit out of her? Was it the illegal drug ring? Was it the investigations? Was it Horacio? There were just too many things that were ‘going on’ for her to know how to react.

“Josh had a fight with his friend—the blond one. They were trying to be discreet, but he went to have a cigar in the garden and overheard part of it.” Bobbi Lynn paused with an audible swallow, “Eva, honey, Josh is gonna throw you to the wolves.”

Its the investigation, then.

Eva looked away and pretended she was processing a new fact.

Bobbi Lynn touched her hand, “His friend was very angry with him, said that you didn’t deserve to go to prison for the rest of your life. Josh...well, I knew he didn’t care much for you, but I didn’t know he could be so cruel.”

I knew, Eva thought. I’ve known for a long time.

“There’s more,” she continued, “Josh said that he was planning on using you as ‘leverage’ against someone named Diego. Does that make any sense to you?”

Eva nodded, “He’s a business partner. Josh has been trying to get one over on him for months. He thinks that because the man is an alpha and I’m an omega that I can, I don’t know, wear him down or something.” She took a breath, “So far, he hasn’t been successful.”

“Ah.”

“I’m afraid if Josh keeps pushing it, Diego will do something rash.”

Bobbi Lynn’s brows drew together, “Rash?”

“Yeah,” Eva sighed, “He seemed pretty mad last time.”

I’ll make you regret it.

Her friend was silent for a few seconds, “I still think you should go tonight. I can make a call, get you on a boat down the Mississippi.”

As grateful as Eva was for that offer, she still had to go back to the house, “Thank you. Really. But, I think we need to stick to the plan.”

Rising, Bobbi Lynn went to her sewing box and retrieve a small package. Inside it, Eva would find a passport, bank account, id, and plane ticket. In five days, she would fly to Mexico and disappear.

The plan was an abstraction until Eva held that envelope in her hand. She ran her fingers over the plain paper, felt its weight. A sense of guilt wormed its way into her chest. Not for leaving Josh, but for holding all of this back from Horacio. Especially after the nights they spent together.

“This, too,” she said as she pressed a bottle into Eva’s palm.

“Thank you, Bobbi Lynn,” Eva managed around a tight throat. She pushed the bottle into the center of her bra for safe keepng.

“Don’t thank me yet,” she replied, “I have more to tell you.”

Eva glanced up at the women with raised brows.

Sitting next to Eva, Bobbi Lynn once more touched her hand, “The feds closing in is hitting too close to home for us. We can’t be seen as a player in Josh’s game. Do you understand what I’m saying to you?”

She did understand. The senator and his wife couldn’t have the bad press of being associated with the downfall of a local doctor and pharmacologist. Especially if it meant unapproved pills being shipped across state lines. Josh would get no protection from the charges that would be leveled at him in the coming weeks.

“I’m sorry, Eva,” Bobbi Lynn, “I know that we’re friends, but its an election year and we can’t have a federal investigation hurting the campaign.”

“I know,” Eva replied, “I’m not offended.”

Bobbi Lynn nodded, “And, because we’re friends, I have to tell you that the warrant will be served in two weeks. They’ve got enough to raid your factories and your house. If you have anything you need to get rid of, do it now.”

Its time.

Eva stood, “Thank you. For everything. I mean it.”

“You’re welcome, honey.”

“I don’t want to be rude, but I need to get back.”

Bobbi Lynn waved her off, “That’s okay. I completely understand.”

They stalled near the door, looking at eat other. Years of luncheons, parties, galas, and secret meetings were suddenly at an end. Eva knew that she might never see Bobbi Lynn again, certainly not after Josh’s dealings became public knowledge. She felt a pang of bittersweet melancholy twist in her chest.

A quick hug and a discreetly wiped away tear, and Bobbi Lynn was opening the door. Her smiled dropped and a look of fear overtook her expression. Curious, Eva peered around the door to find Alexei standing on the far side of the hallway, leaning causally against the wall.

“Hello, Birdie.”

God. Fucking. Damn it.

With one hand, Eva guided Bobbi Lynn to the side. With the other, she slipped the envelope into Bobbi Lynn’s hand and held it there until the other woman’s fingers wrapped around it. She didn’t know how much Alexei knew and she didn’t want to risk her future by allowing him to discover just how far she was willing to go to get away.

More than that, she would never get over the guilt if he thought Bobbi Lynn was interfering. She would not sacrifice her friend like she did Dr. Martin.

“Alexei,” Eva bit out, “Or, am I dealing with Zero now?”

He flinched at the use of his nickname, but recovered only a moment later, “It just Alexei, Birdie.”

How long would he be Alexei to her once the warrant was served?

Eva could feel Bobbi Lynn shaking next to her, “I’m gonna go.” Then, “Goodbye, Bobbi Lynn.”

Stepping out in the hall, Eva waited for Bobbi Lynn to close the door behind her before she turned and walked down the steps to the lobby. Her pace was almost leisurely despite the hammering of her heart. She had a little too much pride to show Alexei just how scared she was.

A part of her wondered if she could scream loud enough to wake Horacio. As she exited the building, she turned to look up over her shoulder towards the top floor. It was a risk.  A big one. And, she didn’t know if there was much he could do without destroying his cover.

No.

Better to handle this herself.

Eva stopped next to the driver’s side door of her car, “Now what?”

Alexei ran a hand through his hair, “You know I’m not going to be able to keep this from Josh.”

“Just what do you think this is?”

He pushed his hands into his pocket, “It looks like you’re trying to find a way out.”

Eva deflated on the inside. She didn’t know what she hoped would come out of Alexei’s mouth, but it definitely wasn’t the truth.

“Alright,” she muttered, “what are you going to do about it?”

The ice blue of Alexei’s eyes swayed to the side. She let him think about it, knowing that his answer would determine everything that would happen in the near future.

“I think,” he began, “that we need to get you home. I can handle Josh.”

Her eyes narrowed, “I disagree. From what Bobbi Lynn told me, you guys had a falling out in Texas.”

Alexei’s weight shifted. He seemed to grow taller, more fearsome, “Is that what she told you? Did she tell you anything else, or is local gossip the reason you drove all the way out here in the middle of the night?”

She could lie to him, but something told her he would catch it, “The warrant will be served in two weeks.”

His chin lifted and his shoulders straightened, “How does she know?”

“Oh, please,” she sneered, “remember who her husband is.”

Nodding, Alexei lapsed once more into thought. Then, “That doesn’t change anything. I’m taking you home. We’ll talk with Josh in the morning. Give me the keys.”

Eva pulled the keys from her pocket and slung them at him. Then, she went to the passenger’s side door and got in the car. She slammed the door closed to drive home the point that she was upset. Alexei ignored it.

The trip to the house was spent in tense, angry silence. Eva sulked with her arms crossed, watching the road go from concrete dividers to manicured lawns. Alexei sped along, uncaring that they were going fifteen above the limit. Occasionally, he tapped the radio, looking for a new station that wasn’t playing commercials.

[easypeasylindyvesey]

I Think it’s Strange We Never Knew: Jimmy Vesey x fem!OC

Summary: After the unforeseen death of Abby’s boyfriend, one of the NHL’s star defenseman and her teammate, she severely struggles with managing her grief. She confides in Jimmy Vesey, who is not only another teammate of hers, but is one of the very few people she has a strong friendship with. That is until that night and the days that followed. Does this life-altering news change the trajectory of their personal perceptions of each other? Or does it entail a chance of crossing boundaries for the risk of moving on?

Word Count (excluding title and heading): 34,491 (whoops)

*(General) Warnings: (foul) language, mentions/discussion of death, suicide attempt (brief, closed door description), eventual confession of feelings, grief, panic attack(s), angst, eventual sexual implications but no smut, age gap

*Note: This story takes place in the future. Abby is 24-25 and Jimmy is 33-35.

APRIL 2027- part 1 (warnings: mention/discussions of death, grief, panic attack, angst, (foul) language)

Burnsville, Minnesota is a beautiful city. So much architecture, so many buildings, there’s literally everything you could have ever imagined. It’s only 15 miles from Minneapolis, so there’s even a greater opportunity to explore the sights. Only I wasn’t here for that.

I stand in front of the hotel mirror in my black halter top and black dress, with my black shoes, and my black purse, and my black, charred heart. Today is Ryan’s wake, and tomorrow is the funeral. His family wanted to wait until the season ended to arrange services so there would be more availability. The flight here did not feel real in any circumstance. God, I wish I could’ve boarded that plane with better reason.

I’ve been to my fair share of wakes and funerals. Actually, that’s a lie. Probably only 2 each. It’s because I’ve never experienced that much death in my life, that much mourning. Not until today. I mean, what are you supposed to converse about with people besides the dead body in front of you? Oh, I forgot. Ryan will be in an open casket. That just makes me even more terrified. I know that reaction is not going to go over well. Luckily, the wake is going to be broken up into groups of people so that the room is not completely bombarded, with family and close friends given the first look.

I never mentioned how terrible my sleep schedule has been these past few weeks. I’m going to bed around midnight, some nights close to 3:00AM, because all I can think about is him. His laugh. His voice. His hands and how they’d gently interlock with mine or hold my face. His continuous yet ridiculous rants. Fucking everything about him. I still can’t shake it. It doesn’t help that I’m living with another man.

Living with Jimmy has not been incredibly challenging. We don’t tend to speak much throughout the day. He knows I want to stay grounded in my solitude, but he always says he’s here if I need him. The sentiment is appreciated, but he needs to stop thinking I’m gonna fall apart in one motion. That already happened. It’s just disintegrating a lot slower than I thought it would. I pass the time by sitting out on the private balcony in my room. Listening to the city sounds somewhat helps, and I can get some fresh air. Maybe look for him in the sky. I haven’t found an earthly sign that he’s trying to communicate with me yet, but I’ll be damned to find one.

The car ride to the wake can be described using my favorite word: quiet. The two of us are sitting in the front of a rental Mercedes Benz, and I gotta say that this car is incredibly sleek. The seats are comfortable, there’s a lot of space, and it’s fast. It’s really cool, to be honest with you. Jimmy’s driving, again, because when does he not in this case? I don’t think he seems to mind it. He’s wearing a light blue button down and black dress pants with matching shoes. He’s gently holding onto the wheel as if he makes too abrupt of a movement, he’s gonna ruin the car somehow. Another thing that I can finally enjoy about the silence is that he’s stopped giving me those secret glances. I think he’s taken the long-awaited hint. For a man with a Harvard degree, you’d think he’d pick up on it faster.

We pull into the funeral home parking lot and back in to a reserved spot. The car gets put in park and Jimmy leans back in his seat, unbuckling his seatbelt before letting out a quick sigh. I see him look up at the moonroof and then back down at the wheel. I shift in my seat to look at him. His face is flushed and his right hand is shaking in its place on the overhead compartment.

“What is it?” I say quietly. I don’t want to freak him out. I already know he is.

He lets out another sigh, only this time it’s ragged. “It’s just a lot,” he breathes.

Now it’s my turn to give him my best puppy dog eyes. “I know,” I reply. “We can stay here for a few minutes. It doesn’t officially start till 1 anyway.”

“Y-Yeah, yeah, that’d be good,” he says, reaching into the cupholder to retrieve his water. I watch him open the cap and swallow 4 times before putting it back on. He’s nervous. But he’s acted so calm prior.

I stare out the main window. It’s been drizzling on and off so far today. I guess Mother Nature really wants to bring the appropriate weather on this type of occasion. At least it’s not pouring, or thundering, or anything like that. I would hate for the sky to have a meltdown today. I’d rather have it come in waves. Slow progression can still anticipate the worst.

I notice strangers making their way into the entrance of the funeral home. That’s when it starts to feel real. They don’t look familiar to me in any way. For all I know, they’re friends and extended family of Ryan’s that I never got the chance to meet, though he talked about them to no end. It was nice being able to hear about people in his life. I guess they meant a lot to him too.

I hear the engine turn off before Jimmy lightly taps my elbow, causing me to flinch. “Sorry,” he says in some form of a hushed whisper.

“It’s okay,” I mutter.

“You ready to go?” he responds.

“Not really,” I reply, “but I don’t think I’ll ever be.”

Jimmy opens up the drivers side door, so I take it as a sign to open up mine. I shut it behind me and he locks the Benz before we walk across the parking lot. The chill in the air did not help my nerves. In fact, it only made my heart feel colder. Currently, there’s no light that would bring it back to life.

He opens the door and lets me go in front of him before shutting it. We make our way to the reception area where we sign in. We’re gestured to a smaller room, I guess to wait in, before we actually go see Ryan. With the exception of Ryan’s family, they’ve only limited 8 guests at a time with 20-25 minute intervals. Given how many doors were closed, we’d be waiting a little while.

Of course the room we walked into was where the team stood, Lavi, the rest of the coaching staff, the equipment manager, everybody. I gotta say, they did a good job at organizing who goes in each room. I would rather be in a room full of familiarity than mystery.

My heart wrenches seeing the team. I haven’t seen them since my birthday celebration. I never ended up going to the mandatory team meetings, never responded in the group chat, never reached out individually. I couldn’t bring myself to do it. But now I’m faced with those incorrect choices when they all stop and look at me.

“Hi,” I say meekly. “It’s, uh, it’s good to see all of you. Sorry I haven’t contacted any of you until now.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Lavi replies. “We’re just glad everyone’s here together.”

I nod. “Yeah, uh, me too. Do we know how long until we go in?”

“There’s three rooms of Ryan’s friends and family ahead of us, so I’d say about an hour,” Chris says. “We tried getting in one of those rooms, but I guess they’re putting family first.”

I scoff. “We’re his family,” I mutter. “Bullshit.”

I make my way to an unoccupied chair over near the bar area and sit down to rest my already aching feet. I gotta say the rooms were set up really nicely. There were couches and chairs and a mini TV with a little fridge. It was spacious, but with everyone crammed in this room, I felt claustrophobic. I take a deep breath to control my bubbling frustration.

Quickly, everyone forms little groups to converse with. Yet, here I am on the outside looking in. I don’t think they’re avoiding me intently, more just giving me space. Again, I respect it, but it’s not like I’m gonna throw a hissy fit in this very moment. Or maybe it’s because they’ll know I won’t want to talk. So I pass the time fidgeting with my bracelet. Yeah, I chose to wear it. I guess I can see the ‘R’ as a reminder that he’ll always be linked to me in some sort of way, even if it’s no longer physical.

I watch Jimmy caught up in a conversation with Vinny and Laffy. He seems a lot more relaxed now. His face has returned to a normal color and his hands stopped shaking. Instead, they’re just swaying at his sides. I notice his watch reflect onto the ceiling light. He cracks that tight-lipped smile. It’s crooked, and it’s awkward, but it’s what makes him, well, him. It eases me to know he doesn’t feel restricted the way he did a little bit ago. He doesn’t have anything to release his anxiety, but for all I know, it’s pent-up inside getting ready to burst at any given moment. Jimmy’s always been calm, cool, and collected. There are times where I’ve seen him visibly frustrated and have a little bit of an attitude, but it would last for a short time before he returned to being even-tempered. He’s not the type of guy to yell and raise his voice when he’s upset. You can talk about anything with him and he’ll always listen before responding. He barely interrupts when someone talks and is always looking for a way to help if the person wants it. Sometimes, I really want to pick at his brain, wonder what he thinks, wonder what his true perceptions are of someone. He’s got the words, he’s got the awareness, and he’s got the right way on how to deliver the message. However, I can’t help but think if he has one person that he’s able to talk to about anything and everything. Given the current reality, I’m afraid he’s suppressing himself so that he can be there for others. All I know is that I would not want to be there when, and if, he blows up. I’d be scared.

I keep my distance from him for now. He seems content. I don’t want to disturb it. I feel that I’ve disturbed his life already anyway.

I stand up from the chair and make my way to a more comfortable looking seat, AKA the couch. It’s white with gold specs. It’s really fancy for a funeral home, I must say. I’m afraid to even scuff it up with my shoes, so I refrain from crossing my legs. I just sit there like a frozen statue, waiting for one of my worst nightmares to come true.

Thirty minutes have passed, and conversation is still flowing with the occasional light laughs and quick transition in topics. I’m staring at the door now, waiting for him to walk in, tell everyone it was all a trick and he faked everybody out. I’ll kill him myself before he’d even get the chance to admit it.

[hijinxensues]

The Cloaking Brooch Dilemma - Part 12

RotTMNT Donatello x OC!AFAB

Synopsis: Donatello considered himself, nay, deemed himself the greatest mind of his generation. He was known for his skills as a scientist, inventor, engineer and was a technological genius. Dare he throw in that he was a damn good brother and held the title of being ¼th ‘Protector of New York City’.

He could barely fathom that he didn’t piece together that the pretty barista he was falling for was simultaneously his gaming buddy (might I add, for the last eight years) and was working for Big Mama.

At this very moment, Donatello was sure of two things in his life. One of them being his life was a joke and the second being that he was fraternizing with the enemy.

All because he decided to run errands whilst donning his cloaking brooch.

Warnings: Aged-Up turtles, fluff, Half-Yokai OC, AFAB OC (does use she/her/they pronouns in writing), swearing

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Ch 12 – Boysenberry

Your eyes scan the conversation on your phone as you lay in bed, still brewing over the disaster date from Hell that happened a few days prior. Huffing annoyedly, you roll over on your back and adjust your shirt roughly, so it doesn’t ride up your back uncomfortably. There’s a wall of text from Donatello before leading into a very brief conversation between the two of you.

Between the ‘I understand’s and online apologies from Donatello and the ‘I need space’ from you, you weren’t quite sure how to move forward with things. The text thread and Discord chats were dead, and while you’re relieved and thankful Donatello has always been nothing but respectful and took things literally to a fault, you’re almost…sad he doesn’t try to reach out.

It felt like a breakup. It hurt and it made you angry. Not only did you have to come to terms with him not having romantic feelings, but you also needed to grieve that you didn’t really have a friend in him either anymore, atleast for the time being. It was still up in the air with next steps, but you were still so hurt and confused.

Trudging through your apartment, the mess had gotten away from you. Between yourself, Usagi and the occasional Leo coming through couch cushions lived on the floor, blankets strewn across any surface and not to mention any type of snack or fast-food container littered your counter tops and coffee table. The dish washer was still broken and it was now not going to get fixed just because you were not on speaking terms with Donatello so you’d have to dip into a paycheque to buy a new one.

Washing dishes were your least favorite chore and thus it was done the least. You made a mental note to ask Leo to do them next time he was over, it was the least he could do for invading your tiny one bedroom apartment. It cost a ton to feed both a big Rabbit-Yokai and an even bigger ‘Mutant Turtle’.

Fluffing out a garbage bag you start to sort out your garbage and compost, your nose wrinkling at the smell of leftover food. You’d spent the last few days vegging out by yourself, crying, watching shitty rom-coms (where the guy does in fact, get the girl, as always) and doing bad karaoke with your blue boys.

Exhaling heavily, you set the garbage bag down in a corner and start doing a half ass clean around your apartment. It looks half decent after an hour, with anything plush in a bin set aside in the bedroom and the dirty dishes stacked in the sink instead of all over the apartment. You light a few candles, a liberty you try to indulge in now given Donatello won’t be coming by for a... very long while, before popping into the bathroom to take a well-deserved shower.

You wipe away the condensation off the mirror and encase your ears and hair in towel atop your head. Fingers itch to pick up your phone and you do, only to be welcomed with no notifications. Rolling your eyes, you ignore the sinking feeling in your gut, “Stupid.” You mutter under your breath as you dry off and place your phone on the counter rougher than you mean to.

Pulling the spare blankets from the closet you give them a quick sniff and cringe, how long had those been sitting in here? They smelt old, but with everything else waiting to be washed you’d have to make do. You pile a few fluffier blankets onto the couch and push it around with your hands to make it into a burrow before submerging into it. Your nose wrinkles at the smell of the blankets and you try your best to squash down the urge to pick out an unkempt blanket from the laundry bin that smelled like Donatello. Everything that smelled like Usagi, smelled slightly like Leo and while it wasn’t unwelcome, it was a change that you weren’t used to yet.

Getting comfortable was not a luxury that was awarded to you as you thrashed inside the blanket burrow. Pulling up the couch cushions, you kneaded at them roughly in a poor attempt to fluff them up and in a flash your eyes light up as your nose catches a whiff of…something. It smelt good, and it was comforting. Through unfocused vision you shift your head as your nose twitches and tries to catch the scent in the air again.

Stuffed between the crevices of the couch was Donatello’s signature purple hoodie.

Mentally you scold yourself at how much you wanted to drown in the scent and grab at it with force pulling it from its confines. Balling it up you fully intend on throwing it across the apartment and while your arm does the motion, your hand does not let go.

Eyes flit to the balcony and then to the rest of your tiny abode as if someone was going to catch you doing something wrong. Your nose is pressed to the soft fabric before you can comprehend what you’re doing, and you inhale so deeply it makes you lightheaded. Fingers clenching into the hoodie, the fabric is gently rubbed against your cheeks. Donatello was very cognizant of the texture of clothing he owned, even all the causal clothing he wore around your apartment was in pristine condition and almost always the softest article of clothing you touched at any given time.

In a moment of weakness, the hoodie makes its way onto your body, sleeves pooling around your wrists and the collar is pulled up to cover half your face above your nose. The satin lining of the hoodie does little to soothe the cacophony of emotions that run between your chest and stomach. Donnie said his clothes were up for grabs and you had explicit permission to wear them, but you felt almost guilty for wearing his clothes and knowing he didn’t like you in the way you liked him. The Donnie that materializes in your thoughts drowns you in his scent clothes, top to bottom, because he likes you. Because he wanted you and the thought shoots straight down.

You jump up at the sound of your phone pinging and you wrestle your way out of the burrow you’ve made. The phone screen lights up and you groan looking at the calendar reminder about a friends birthday party you were meant to go to tonight. You push down the disappointment that it isn’t Donnie. Tears pool at the corners of your eyes out of frustration and you press your palms hard into your eyes to quell the tears, Donatello was meant to help you pick out and tailor an outfit for you for tonight.

You tap the ‘confirm’ button to send to your friend and lay back down going through your mental checklist of what you needed to do if you were going to attend the event. Glancing at the clock it tells you that you had roughly two hours to freshen up, find an outfit in your closet, probably tailor it (you didn’t know how to tailor) and then hop in an Uber.

Begrudgingly your legs kick out and off the couch, paw pads sinking into the plush carpet. A coffee was in order.

--

Braving the winter weather, you make your way over to Rendezvous. The coffee shop was so close you decided Donnie’s hoodie and a pair of fleece lined leggings with boots would be sufficient for your trek, you just hoped to any and all deities you wouldn’t run into him.

A blast of warm air hits you as you enter in the coffee shop and you upnod your coworkers’ working the till and coffee station. You busy yourself by picking around your cuticles as you wait in line, your phone essentially useless to you and you weren’t sure if you were strong enough to not text Donnie given the stress you were under to make it to the event tonight.

Your heart jumps as a green tridactyl hand comes to cover yours to curb your picking, “Fancy seeing you here.” His eyes flit over to your hoodie and his pupils dilate; you supposed purple was his color too.

You snort and face him with a crooked smile and a shrug. “It’s not like I work here or anything, Fearless.”

He looks tired, bags under his eyes, his brows drawn on with not as much care as usual.

He quirks a brow with a small grimace, “Fearless?”                            

Chuckling you nod, “Yeah, my ‘fearless hero’ who escorted me home. Or do you prefer ‘Hero-Boy’ instead? ‘Friendly-Neighborhood Purple Turtle’ is a mouthful and I refuse to call you that while we protect your identity.” Thinking back to your encounter with him in front of the bank, you couldn’t for the life of you what Leo called him. Donathon? No, that’s not even a real name. Was it Jonathon? That seemed more plausible.  

The terrapin in purple takes a solid few seconds musing over his options thoughtfully before nodding, “A bit odd as my brother is often also referred to as ‘Fearless’ as a silly nickname, but it’ll do for now.” You make a mental check in your brain as he confirms he has a brother. Perhaps him and Leo were brothers? You couldn’t assume any Terrapin Yokai was related, you wouldn’t be any better than the people who insisted that you and Usagi were cousins.

The both of you reach the front of the line and you hold a hand up and slap down your card and mischievous glint in your eye, “I got it, you look a little worse for wear.”

“Oh hoh, you’re one to talk.” He eyes you up casually with a playful grin and you’re suddenly self conscious of the messy damp hair tied up on your head along with the too-big hoodie and mis matched socks. Knocking your arm into his roughly you shush him and order what you need to as your co-worker glances between the two of you suggestively. Rolling your eyes, you do a tiny shake of your head to your co-worker to get them to bite their tongue over the dynamic between the two of you.

“This is a weird question,” the coffee shop was busier than it usually was and the ambient sounds of customers was comforting, “do you know how to tailor?”

Fearless nods, slowly. “I do, mutant turtles do not often fit into human clothes and thus a lot of tailoring does need to happen.” He nods his thanks to your co-worker before picking up both latte’s and handing you one. A blush creeps up your neck as you linger a little longer at his hands than you mean to, the paper cup looked so tiny in comparison.

“Second weird question, I have an event tonight and I probably don’t have anything that’s ready to wear. But I might be able to put something together, the catch is-“

“You’d need someone to tailor so it’d fit.”

“That big brain of yours is working hard, Fearless.”

He laughs allowing you a peak at his pointed canines you’ve never noticed before, “Inviting me into your home and you haven’t even taken me out to dinner.”

Scowling, your cheeks are painted pink. The smile he tosses you reaches his eyes, and he doesn’t look ragged anymore. You don’t recall him ever being this brazen with you before, and this version of him was much more tolerable than the version you had run into with your rabbit ears equipped. You have you avert your gaze, so you don’t combust and head to the front door, “I asked you for help, not for your hand in marriage.” He snorts and follows close behind you, “I had a friend who was meant to swing by but…” your free hand waves absentmindedly, “it fell through. They uh, left me hanging, so to speak.”

Fearless hums and opens the door allowing you to pass through first and you shiver at the temperature change, “Sounds like they’re an idiot. I’d be happy to assist you. This is exactly what your Friendly-Neighborhood Purple Turtle does.”

--

“You’ll have to excuse the mess, I half-way cleaned earlier but uh, I’m going through it right now.” Sheepishly you shrug and open the door and kick your boots off. Quickly you make your way to the balcony and open the door to allow some circulation into the tiny apartment, then haphazard clean anything out of place and kick the garbage bag you were using farther off to the side and tie it closed. “Sorry, Fearless. I’m usually better than this.”

He waves his hand casually, “Worry not, Violet! We all ‘go through it’ as you say.” He makes air quotes with a single digit on both hands. If he’s disgusted by your dinky little apartment, he doesn’t show it.

“Right, well, shoes off,” a pause, “Nevermind. Make yourself at home was where I was going with that.”

Fearless moves through your space like he owns it. He picks a coaster off the top o your fridge and pops a coffee pod into the Keurig before refilling the water and pressing start. He opens the cabinet under your sink to dispose of the old coffee pod and washes his hands, “Let’s get started, shall we?”

“How’d you know where the coasters were? No one has ever successfully guessed where I keep them.”

There’s the most miniscule pause before he shrugs casually, “I’m a ninja, Violet. Always expect the unexpected.”

You give him an incredulous look and make your way to the bedroom, “Sure? I don’t really know how that answers my question?” You catalogue this dialogue and make sure to bring it up at Girls Night tomorrow.

Fearless claps his hands twice, “Chop, chop, s’il vous plait! Off to the bedroom with you.” He allows you to enter first and presses a hand to the small of your back, his hand almost fully encompassing your waist due to its size, as he makes his way around you.

You pray he doesn’t catch your shiver as his fingertips leave you, “Okay, so uh, I had a few options for tonight. The event is like, semi-formal? I have a few dresses, but I think they might be a bit too small. I’m not sure if there’s enough fabric to really let them out and re-do the seams? I also have a skirt and a top option.” You pull out various clothes and toss them onto your unmade bed, “Yeah, sorry the bedroom is usually in better shape too but yenno.”

“Let’s see. May I also have a look in your closet?”

Nodding you step aside, “I’ve got all my kinda formal stuff in here, go crazy.”

Fearless is meticulous in looking through your wardrobe. He pinches and rolls fabric in between his fingers and holds articles of clothing in front of him to fully examine in silence before placing them back thoughtfully. You watch him from your perch on the bed and catch his nostrils flare for a moment then stop. Weird, maybe you needed to toss some mothballs in there if your wardrobe smelled like mildew or something.

He turns and looks at the selection you haphazardly put together on the bed, “This red one seems adequate. The color would be appropriate for an evening cocktail type of event. What’s wrong with this one?” It’s a tight fitting, midi length dress with full length sleeves and a collar that would rest right under your neck. The top fabric is sheer and the under fabric stopped just a few inches before the sheer fabric did to give the dress a bit more depth.

He pulls at the fabric to test its stretchiness and holds it out in front of you pinching where the shoulders would be. “Nothing, it’s too tight.”

“Where?”

“Er, in the hip area.”

The rabbit DNA was a blessing and a curse.

There’s a very light blush across his snout you think is adorable as he clears his throat, “Right,” he moves and sits on the edge of the bed stiffly, “Give me a moment.” He straightens out the dress and drapes it over his lap delicately, then starting from the collar of his hoodie, he pulls up and over. You barely register that his goggles get jostled and that he slightly rearranges his wrappings in the tussle with his hoodie as his plastron being revealed inch by inch is much prettier view. He still had his black wrappings and grey sweats equipped so he wasn’t naked by definition but it sure as hell felt like he was. His hand is on his own shoulder, and he rotates his arm from the shoulder to relax it, his bicep flexing as he wiggles his fingers and takes hold of the dress again.

God, what is wrong with you? One minute you’re crying over Donnie and the next you’re thirsting over a Yokai that’s conveniently in your bedroom.

Mechanical arms pop out of his tech shell and procure a small sewing kit and he gets to work. The bed dips behind him and you give him adequate space to work as you hover over his shoulder to watch. You’d never been this close before and you take full advantage of unabashedly staring as his focus is pulled elsewhere, his tongue poking out as he does the task at hand.

Freckles peppered the pebbled skin on his shoulders, his elbows also a slightly darker shade of green.  Rectangle purple markings grace his biceps, they match the ones on his thighs you’ve seen before. His mask covered most of them, but you just barely get a peak at the light smattering of freckles that went over his snout, you bet he was gorgeous in the sun. Three thin stripes grow downwards and over the expanse of his throat, and with you this close you can tell they taper off with only a light online leading to the edge of the top of his plastron.  

“Your stripes still growing in?” you whisper not to disturb him, your chin dangerously close to resting on the shoulder plate of his battle shell as you watch his fingers deftly seam rip the dress.

The feeling of pride surges through you as he tries to hide his shiver by clearing his throat. “Yes, as I get older, my stripes being more prominent. It seems they develop and elongate downwards, the ones on here,” he points to this throat and your eyes follow the curve of it, “are still coming in.”

The silence is easy and your hip hurts from sitting so still on it as to not disturb Fearless’ work. You watch him tie off the final knot and he brings the excess thread to his mouth and cuts it with his canine. The act causes a flutter down below and you stand up to cover up squeezing your thighs together. You were drowning in very potent Donnie musk from the hoodie you wore and had a cute boy in your bed. This was natural. Your brain and body were getting mixed signals from all the stimuli. That was all! It wasn’t like you wanted to rip his wrappings off and lick up his stripes, no sir. You did not want that.

“Here you are, try it on. I’ll put together something as a back up as you go change.”

Nodding, you pass in front of him and head the bathroom rather quickly trying to still your racing heart. You get dressed easy enough and do a few squats and jumping jacks in the privacy of your own bathroom to test the strength of his work, you didn’t need a wardrobe malfunction while out tonight and with no one to call to help. You use one hand to run through your hair and the other to scour the inside of the side bathroom drawer, “Found it.” Usagi had gifted you a micro cloaking brooch disguised as a hair pin, the gem in the middle was clear and resembled an opal. You slick back one side of your hair and use the pin to keep it there, then fasten it with a few other pins to ensure no disasters would come of tonight.

There’s a few soft knocks at the door, “I’m merely checking in on you, it’s taking a minute. Does it not fit?”

“Er, no! I mean, yes, it does fit. It fits perfectly! Give me a sec.”

“Alright, I’ll head back to your room. I have a back up outfit in case you deem this one not appropriate for the event.”

The dress fit too well; it looked like you were poured into it. It was so form fitting you forego the underwear, you’re lucky the fabric was thick enough to hide the shape of your bra under it. The silky fabric hugged your soft, round curves and didn’t pile or rouche around your torso or hips anymore leaving a clean curve the eye could follow. You had a bit of pudge on your stomach and your “hip dips” were prominent, but you couldn’t be bothered, you spent years feeling bad for having a body and tonight was not the time for self doubt in such a pretty red dress.

“Hoh boy.” Looking at yourself one more time in the mirror you gave yourself a tiny pep talk and exited the bathroom. The bedroom door was closed and you very quietly paced back and forth as you talked yourself up and enter.

His eyes are down cast looking at the clothing options on the bed, “I’m thinking this midi skirt, with this top, if you’re not a fan of the dress. I also took the liberty on sewing up a hole on this pair of jeans I found, it was just above your tail bone, how did you manage that by the way? It’s a very odd place to need repairs. I also noticed your dish washer is broken, the main indicator being many dishes in the sink. It was an easy repair; I hope you don’t mind but why buy a new one when I could just fix the one you have? I added a bit of ‘Fearless-Flair’ to it, I haven’t tested it out but I’m sure it’ll work. I’ve programmed it to load itself so you don’t have to. One less thing for you to worry about, the modern age of technology is convenience! Forgive me, I’m rambling, anyways-“

The way he stares at you makes you think he wants to take a bite, or possibly just devour you whole. You catch his eyeline following up the curve of your hips and then back down doing a onceover. Heat raced up your thighs and behind it chased the feeling of guilt as your foggy brain latches onto the thought of Donnie. Were you a bad person for feeling like this about Fearless as your heart still belonged to someone else? ‘Someone else that didn’t like you,’ your mind chastised.

It's barely a mumble but your ears pick it up anyway, “You look pretty.” The statement is so soft in comparison to the intensity his eyes held.

“Pretty?” you repeat after him curling into yourself slightly, your fingers clasped in front of you. You hope the pink that is affixed to your cheeks looked pretty against the red dress.

He must mistake your shyness for being uncomfortable and he spring into action waving his arms out in front of him, “P-pretty!? Did I say that?”, he trips over his own feet as he takes a step forward and catches himself on your dresser effectively knocking over everything on the top of it, “What I meant to say,” he rights himself and tumbles next to you slamming himself against the wall next to you with an overly nervous laugh, “was that you looked pretty shitty!”

It starts off slow with a few snickers and before you know it you’re doubled over, hands over your midsection guffawing. Taking a few deep inhales to steady your breathing, you wipe at the corners of your eyes, “Oh god, Fearless, you’re something else!” a few more giggles sputter out as you catch your breath.

Fearless’ shoulders relax and a relaxed grin takes over his features that you return in earnest.

He opens his mouth to say something but you both jump as you hear the front door click, “Oh shit, that’s probably my friend! Oh my god, he can’t see you or I’m never going to hear the end of it.”

“Letty? Babes, are you home?”

Pressing your ear to the door you hear his foot steps quickly approaching, “Fuck, okay he’s coming in here, just- ugh, don’t say anything!”

“Who!? Why are they coming in here!?” he’s crouched at your eye level.

“I don’t fucking know! Just- just, shhh!” Fearless tenses as you put your hand over his mouth effectively silencing him. There is an attempt to move your hand from his mouth, his brows furrowed annoyed with the course of action, but with your free hand you press on his plastron keeping him in place, “Don’t move and stay quiet.” There’s a pointed eye roll but a single nod in confirmation he was going to play along, “Good boy.”

That garners a reaction you weren’t ready for as you feel a brief but deep rumble from his chest under your hand. His eyes are wide, and the rumble stops as the doorknob twists.

“Hey, oh my gosh! You look amazing, it’s Yoru’s event tonight, right? Also, do you know where my phone charger is?” Usagi tries to enter, and you stop him with your foot, “Uh, living room!”

Usagi pauses and looks you up and down, “What’s going on? You okay?” his arms are quickly crossed over his chest suspiciously and you catch his ears swivel to pick up any sound.

Nodding quickly, “Yeah, I’m just uh, super nervous for tonight! You know what I’m like and you’re not even coming to hang out with me! Phew, my social anxiety is through the roof!”

This seems to satisfy him as he stops trying to enter your bedroom, “Oh, well, I’m sorry, did you want me to cancel on-?”

“No, no! You’re all good, I’ll be totally fine.”

There’s a pause and you continue on, “So, the phone charger, it’s plugged in by the TV, if you wanted to grab it. I still need to finish up my makeup before heading out, so… you can let yourself out.”

If Usagi knows you’re lying, which he probably does, he takes mercy on you and strolls to grab the charger as you stand in your doorway, unmoving.

“So, any news on the Donnie situation?” Usagi roots around and unplugs his charger.

Your fingers twitch and you scowl, of course he’d bring this up right now, “Uh, nope! Radio silence, er, which is exactly what I asked for.”

“You still miss him?”

Head in your free hand you wince and flounder for words as the tightness in your chest hits you full force and Usagi continues, “It’s okay if you do, I think it’d be weird if you didn’t. I think it’ll work itself out eventually, but yenno, I think you’ll be okay.” Usagi is kind enough to tidy your couch fixating his eyes everywhere but at you, knowing eye contact made things more difficult.

The dress suddenly feels too restricting and you’re breathing heavy now, out of your nose, finding words is more difficult as the seconds pass and if you wait any longer to answer Usagi would for sure know that you’re hiding something.

Get it together, get it together, breathe, breathe, breathe.

The terrapins hand encompasses your own and moves it to his chest, placing your palm to his plastron and he holds firmly, applying gentle pressure. Your hand is entirely hidden by his resting one and his thumb rubs over the skin on the back of your hand. His plastron vibrates, soft and reassuring. It was the rumble again, did turtles purr? Didn’t Usagi say something about Leo purring? It was called churring, you recall.

Your breathing steadies and your eyes find his and smile sheepishly, “I think I’ll be okay, too.” There’s something familiar about the way his lips curve upwards and the adorable tilt of his head, but you can’t place it. He does another firm squeeze to your hand as he stops churring.

Usagi claps and you almost give yourself whiplash looking towards him, “I’ll be going then, got what I need.” He holds up the charger and plug in attachment. Usagi squints in your direction but does head over to the door, “Text when you get there safe tonight, I’ll be at my place tonight.”

Deeming it safe you take back your hand and walk forward to tail behind the rabbit and close the door behind him, “Will do, love you!”

Your back rests against the front door, “They’re gone, Fearless. You can come out.”

He pops out with his sweater equipped while you pull a cold round citrus fruit out of the fridge. “Any allergies?”

He shakes his head and leans on the counter, chin in his hand as he watches your fingers peel the fruit expertly.

Palm up, you out stretch your hand and wiggle your fingers. He thankfully catches what you’re saying and places his hand out, palm up as well. “Thanks for tonight. Like, for everything.” The fruit is peeled fully, even taking care to remove the white membrane. It’s gently pressed into his hand, your free hand cups the back of his and you squeeze before letting go.

“It’s a-“

“Clementine.” He finishes off for you.

Nodding you toss the peel in the compost bin, “Yeah! Fun fact, did you know it’s a hybrid between a willowleaf mandarin orange and a sweet orange? Hopefully the one I gave you is sweet.”

He cradles the tiny orange fruit in both hands and turns so you can only see his side profile as he stares down at his hands, his eyes shimmering. Is he about to cry?

Fearless conceals a sniffle poorly with a cough and turns his back to you while wiping at his eyes before popping a segment in his mouth and sliding over half the fruit to you, back still turned. “It’s sweet, have some.”

The segment bursts in your mouth and you hum appreciatively at the flavor. He’s oddly neutral and you think he needs some time to himself, for whatever reason. Glancing at the clock you make your way to the bathroom again, “I’ve gotta keep getting ready, but seriously, thank you again. If you’re comfortable, you can leave through the front door. Or alternatively the patio.”

He says nothing as you pass him by and shut the door behind you.

A few minutes pass and you don’t hear him moving about the space. You exit once your makeup is done and your apartment is empty again, the patio door closed with no sign of Fearless.

Huh, you really didn’t know what to think of that guy, however you do decide to keep Fearless your little secret. For now, atleast.

--

TIME SKIP, Next day, evening

The sound of the vacuum mixed with the tunes in the background from your Spotify playlist is enough stimuli for your brain to keep you going as you prepare snack bowls for you and your friends. Usagi was ever so graciously manning the vacuum around the tiny space, lifting one end of the couch up with one hand, vacuuming underneath it then placing the couch back in its’ place.

Your counter tops were full of food ranging with popcorn, candys, chocolate and chips on one side and the other side consisting of sprinkles, any type of confectionary type toppings and a waffle machine. Both pancake and waffle batter was at the ready in the fridge along with home made whip cream. Breakfast for dinner was always a favorite of yours and the fluttering, giddy feeling in your chest shone brightly at being able to indulge in this with your friends.

“I think I’m all done on my end.” Usagi coils the cord around the machine and stows it away before hooking up the Nintendo Switch to your television and also plug in numerous phone chargers on an outlet near him. “Perfect, now no one needs to fight over a phone charge.”

You giggle and flap your hands in front of you, “I’m dizzy, I’m so excited!” You take another peak at your phone and watch the time change before reaching for your brooch on instinct. A furry hand catches your wrist, “You’re good, you don’t need it with them.” Stowing it away in your junk drawer you unlock your front door in preparation then jog over to the balcony door to unlock that as well, just in case Leo were to pop in unannounced as he usually does.

“They’re here! I’ll go get them.” Usagi feet does a few excited thumps on the carpet before prancing out of the suite and down the stairs to grab them.

Absentmindedly, you push around the bowls and rearrange them in the time it takes for Usagi to come back up with Sunita.

April squeals with her arms outstretched and makes a grabby hand motion at you, “C’mere you! How’re you doing, girl!”

You wrap your arms around her and hold on tightly as you both sway side to side, “Good, good! Well, yenno, been better but good now!” April gives good hugs, you decide. They’re firm and she digs here fingers slightly into your shoulder before rubbing your back.

Sunita is close behind April and wraps her arms around the two of you and holds tight, “I can’t believe the plans made it out of the group chat!”

The click of the door signals Usagi’s in and he pats each of you on the head before rubbing his furry hands together, “Let’s get situated with food and someone pick something to put on the tv to ignore. So something mildly entertaining but maybe something we’ve all seen?”

Sunita does a two-finger salute and pops a handful of candies in her mouth before making her way over to your living room to scroll through your streaming services.

Between the three of you in your very tiny kitchen, you get the waffle iron and toasty pan going on your stovetop and you begin to ladle in the batter.

“Got some tunes going! Couldn’t pick anything on a streaming service.” Sunita grooves her way to the kitchen and leans on the counter, “How’s Cass, Apes?”

“Who’s Cass?” the buttery pancake melts in your mouth, “Oh shit, this is really good!” Usagi flicks his wrist and tucks a pretend strand of hair behind his ear, “Pfft, thanks,” a goofy grin graces his features.

“My girlfriend!”

“Oh, Apes, why didn’t y’all say anything? We should’ve invited them!” you explain and pull a waffle off the iron and let it fall onto a plate to save your fingertips.

April shakes her head casually and polishes off the marshmallow bowl, “She’s busy at work tonight!” she flicks her wrist at you to signal an ‘it’s all good’, “next time. She’s a bit intense, so consider yourself ready for next time.”

“I don’t know what that means but fair enough, thank you.”

Usagi polishes off a pancake and sprays whip cream in his mouth straight from the can, “Yeah, that’s definitely the truth. She is intense.” He shrugs and smiles playfully at April, “Like, in a good way.”

April rolls her eyes at him casually and pushes her red frames up higher on her nose, “First things first, I love your digs, babe!” April saunters around your cozy apartment, walls covered in sage green. An accent wall with abstract shapes and paint strokes in a soft lavender that could almost be a grey. There were a few floating shelves that were sporadically placed filling the emptiness of the walls that had various trinkets, baubles, and photo frames.

April rubs the bottoms of her feet on the plush rug encompassing most of the square footage in the main area in the living room, “Ooo, this is nice! No offense or anything, but aren’t you just a barista?”

You guffaw and make your way over to her and drape yourself over the back of the sofa, “I work a second job that pays way too much, and this apartment is technically a ‘hand me down’ from my late-dad, so I pay the strata fee but the suite itself is paid off.”

“Lucky rabbit!” Sunita exclaims from her position in the kitchen.

You giggle and nod, “You got that right.”

“Is it just you then?” April prompts. You shake your head and draw shapes on the couch cushion, “Nah, I’ve got my mom. She lives out of town, but I do see her occasionally.”

Sunita picks up a face down photo frame hidden behind another propped up frame, “Awee, you two are too cute!” she holds the frame as if to show a classroom of kids something and the three of you peak over at it. April coos and takes the frame delicately from Sunita.

You snort, only mildly embarrassed as you recall the photo. It’s a photo of a much younger version of you and Usagi, your faces both round and youthful, the tufts of fur on his cheeks and his fringe much longer it needs to be swept backwards. Your stark white hair is messily piled on the top of your head, your rabbit ears lazily positioned downwards to showcase the carefree nature of the photo. His arm is wrapped around your shoulders and both your cheeks are squished against each others making the photo-you wink. Your free hand closest to him finds Usagi’s cheek and cups it aiding in his cheek squishing yours and your other hand is posed in a peace sign. Your tongue pokes out of your boyish grin and Usagi matches the energy with a wolfish grin.

“It’s the first photo I took with my bunny ears out, yenno after my mutation. We look like twins, if you can get past the fact that I guess I’m mostly human.” You chuckle and stare fondly at the photo. You didn’t know where you’d be without him.

“I’m so cute!” Usagi grins, “I remember when my bangs were that long, gee. Why didn’t you tell me to cut them, dude? I thought we were friends!”

“You’re literally so dramatic, shut up! You’re just like Leo. That was a look back in the day, that was the trend!”

“Leo?” April quirks a brow and places the photo frame back up.

There’s an awkward pause as you search Usagi’s eyes, feeling the tense air around you. You didn’t mean to out him having a boyfriend.

“Oh, he’s just someone I’m seeing! I’m keeping it on the down low, he has a big family and we’re trying to enjoy each others time before we inevitably become the talk of the town. We’re still really in the beginning stages, if you get me.”

You nod quickly and mouth ‘sorry’ at him while you’ve got his gaze on you. Usagi does a small shrug and a smile to let you know you’re off the hook and only then is when you relax.

April nods understandingly, “I gotcha, happy to hear about him when you’re ready.” She winks and puts the frame face down where it was, “Why was this face down anyways?”

You clap and jump into action, “Perfect segue, April! To answer your question and to finally address what has been going on with that mystery guy, let me get into it because I have a physical portion of this presentation in the form of an investigation cork board.”

Sunita stares blankly, “An investigation…cork board?”

“I haven’t seen this magical cork board you’ve put together-“ Usagi starts and then is interrupted, “Yes, because I did it in the dead of night after Yoru’s party.”

Usagi starts up again, “Okay, thank you. I think she means like in that meme? With the guy in front of a cork board with clues pinned in it and the red string tying together evidence?”

“The one where the guy looks entirely manic?” April asks deadpan, her hand already making its way to her forehead to rub at her temples.

You shoo April and Sunita on the couch like you’re corralling sheep until they flop onto the couch, “Exactly! I have prepared tirelessly to have this done for you today.” You push the bridge of your glasses farther up your nose and April catches a mischievous glint in your lenses before pulling a cat laser pointer off a shelf and hold your hands behind your back ready to start your lecture.

“Do you have a cat?” Sunita squints and you shake your head, “No, I just like to have things. Anyways-“

You recount the events over the last half a year, dipping into the necessary details of the alias’ of Othello Von Ryan and Bootyyyshaker9000 (earning a very wide eyed stare from April and Sunita which you equated to the nature of the odd username, Bootyyyshaker9000 really did it for people), going into the semi-reveal, filling in tiny details here and there in terms of nuance and things you didn’t deem as important but wanted to share, your feelings you weren’t sure what to do with, the bank incident (omitting Leo, to give Usagi a privacy shield), the infamous ‘Albearto Date from Hell’ and you spilled a bit about Fearless but didn’t include what happened the night before.

“And so that’s why that photo frame is face down, Donnie doesn’t know I’m part Yokai. Now that I’m thinking of it, not many people do and that’s also why I have the frame down, not just because of him. I do have a life outside of thinking of him.” You ramble on and hold a hand up, “I know we’ve got questions but you gotta give me two seconds to pull out my presentation!”

Scrambling to the bedroom, you slam the door open, and wheel out a large cork board with pinned with various photos of Donnie and Fearless (both taken from the security camera at Rendezvous then printed out at the library), post it notes with haphazard writing and red strings connecting the various theories you had connecting the two of them.

“Oh wow, Sunita! Look at this!” April nudges her elbow hard into her friends’ ribs and Sunita coughs and catches herself from doubling over, “Oh, I am looking! I am looking with my eyes. I am seeing exactly what you’re seeing!”

“Right! So, we’re all seeing it!” you exclaim happily paired with excited flappy hands.

“Oh, okay, so you both also think he’s the same bitch? I mean, they both wear like the exact same shade of purple.” Usagi tags into the conversation, licking the whip cream off his milkshake.

The exclamation of ‘no!’ and ‘it can’t be!’ is so loud it makes you jump and almost makes you a tad suspicious. April scrambles to her feet and slams face first into the cork board and you flail to catch her and board from falling over completely. “Wuh- April!”

“They can’t be the same person,” she fumbles over her words while looking over the photos, “Because, because!”

“Because well, there isn’t any solid proof right? This is all speculation!” Sunita fans her hands out to create an imaginary rainbow in front of her. April nods and looks over the post it notes, “Okay… uh, “Donatello” has four brothers okay… that’s confirmed.” she points to some green writing beside an obnoxious check mark. Her eyes follow the red string to a blurry photo clearly taken off of a Reddit post about the infamous Yokais who saved NYC, “Okay and there’s….four of those vigilante Yokai. These don’t even go together! Trust me, I’m going to school for journalism.”

“Wait, so the only reason I out those two together is because I think the color-coded vigilante are like, a team! There’s four of them and….Donnie’s one of four brothers. Okay, I guess that one is a reach, but still!” You shrug sheepishly and change queue up the next playlist on the television. “Side note, if you’re in school for journalism, you’d be eating this up! Not to like, expose them but to crack the case! You’re supposed to live for this.”

“And the four of them order take out from Tios’! So, I guess if they were the same person, this would check out. It’s also not unheard of Yokai’s using cloaking brooches, literally Letty is one of them.” Usagi points out and comes up next to the board. You nod along in agreeance, “On top of that, Donnie does know what ‘Run of the Mill’ is, they’ve done take out there before! The Yokai vigilantes and Donnie and his brothers both frequent this spot.”

“That’s not much of a clue though, Huesos’ is one of the most, if not, the most popular Hidden City restaurant there is, aside from anything Grand Nexus franchise related. Statistically, it’s reasonable for them to be different people and both frequent the same joint.” April points out nonchalantly, eyes fixated on the board combing through the photos and writing.

“You think his name is Jonathon?” Sunita points to another post-it note swinging the conversation in a different way.

The post it in question had the word ‘Donathon?’, then underneath it ‘Jonathon? MORE LIKELY’, and then underneath that ‘Fearless’.

“I overheard one of them call him ‘Donathon’, maybe? It’s barely popularized, I checked Google. So, ‘Jonathon’ is probably much more likely. He,” pointing to the turtle Yokai, “did refuse to give me his name when he walked me home one night, under the guise of keeping his secret identity. I just call him ‘Fearless’, it’s a play on words for like, ‘fearless hero’- anyways, it’s tacky. I need everyone to keep their thoughts to themselves, okay.” Muttering under your breath you fight the urge to cross out the silly nickname yourself to avoid the laughs. You consider yourself lucky no one bats an eye at your embarrassment while you busy yourself in the kitchen to make yourself a cup of tea.

“It totally makes sense if Donnie and Fearless are the same person that ‘Fearless’ wouldn’t want to give you his actual name since then he’d out himself as Donnie!” Usagi points out.

“Okay, well why would he lie about being a mutant? That doesn’t make sense.” April prods.  

Groaning you run your palms over your face, “How would I know!? I wouldn’t put it past him at this point because he was super against us ever meeting in person, which is a point in the direction of ‘he’s a Yokai in disguise’.”

“The purple thing isn’t a clue either, have you guys ever heard of The Purple Dragons? They also wear this shade of purple exactly. It could just be a really popular color. Maybe it’s this years Pantone color? I’d probably dispute this clue too.” Sunita rubs her chin thoughtfully and squints at the board.

Usagi makes his way towards you and with his back facing your friends and he lifts his hand in front of his chest and does a thumbs up. Your eye flicker over to April and Sunita and ensure they’re still preoccupied, and you give him one back and it cues him to start signing.

‘A bit sus, they think every clue is wrong’

‘Agree, maybe she knows them? Keeping their identities secret.’

Usagi is beside you and quirks his brow at you, “So, do either of you think any of the clues on there point to them being the same person? Or are you going to keep protecting him?” Your eyes widen and you nudge him with your elbow, and you thought you were the spicy one.

“We’re not ‘protecting’ anyone, if we’re going to accuse someone two people of being the same person, the evidence needs to be rock solid.” April retorts back earnestly and shares a glance with Sunita that you can’t quite place the intention behind.

“Fearless was here the other night because I needed alterations for an outfit since I was going out,”

“I knew someone was here!” Usagi shoves you hard and gently smacks the back of your head.

“Yeah, okay! Anyways, he was here. And he walked around my apartment like he’d already been here. He picked a coaster off the top of my fridge, the most ridiculous place to keep them, and mind you, no one has ever come close to guessing where they are coming in here the first time. Explain that?” crossing your arms over your chest you make your way over to the fridge, then pick up your stack of coasters.

“He looks pretty tall from these photos, I think? If he’s as tall as Usagi, he probably was able to see it. And he’s a ninja!” Sunita points out stubbornly.

“He fixed my dishwasher and I didn’t even mention to him that it was broken. But I did mention it to Donnie a few weeks back. He did mention he noticed there were dishes everywhere so he took it upon himself to fix it but, seriously! That’s still weird, right!?” you felt like you were grasping at straws, you look to Usagi, “The night of the date, he kept disappearing then reappearing, and his clothes we’re always messed up. Like he kept getting undressed and re-dressed or something. That’s some Superman-type shit, don’t you think!?”

“Yeah! I mean, if he is a hero, it would make sense that maybe he was ‘on duty’ or something?” Usagi points out heatedly, his ears twitched as he narrowed his eyes at the pair across the room. The tension in the air had gone stale and the sugary sweet food you’d been eating sat heavy in your gut. Maybe this was a bad idea? You’d already hallucinated that Donnie liked you, it was entirely possible you had also made up this whole thing about the two of them being the same person.

“He might’ve been meeting with someone else?” Sunita suggested with a weary shrug as she looked over at April who opened her mouth a few times and closed it, “Uh yeah! M-maybe another girl or?” her expression is wide eyed, and she grimaces next before continuing, “No, wait! Uh, like in a friendly way! Not like sexy-friendly, like, just regular friendly!”

The statement knocks the wind out of you, and you’re unprepared for how hard your lungs grasp for oxygen. You never considered it. He wouldn’t do that to you. Would he?

“Ah, okay, time-out, this completely derailed itself.” Usagi pressed his fingers firmly into your back and rubs to ground you but it does little to your reeling mind as memories flood behind your eyes as you try and replay any and all of them, and Donnie’s been consistently inconsistent, with many things. The option of him being there for someone else was now on the table.

Doubt sowed itself deep within your bones, you were now extremely uncertain of Donnie and if your theory was even plausible that Fearless and him were the same person. Should you award Fearless with kindness at this point if you were to run into him again? You couldn’t shake the familiarity of Fearless but you supposed there wasn’t much basis to your ‘evidence’ aside from coincidences thus far.

You don’t know when April crosses into the kitchen and a feather light touch finds your shoulder, “I’m sure Donnie is a great guy, and he wouldn’t do something like that to you. I just got ahead of myself, I’m sorry. I’m a skeptic at heart… journalism and everything.” She finished lamely but you can hear the remorse in her voice, every word laced with guilt and concern.

Usagi pulls you closer to him and that is effective in having April let up on your shoulder. She reads the social cue and takes a step back. Before she can retreat too far, you link arms with her, “Thanks April, I know you’re just looking out for me. And you’re right, we need more solid evidence before we accuse them of being the same person. I feel like there’s a lot to comb over… we can rehash another night?” Usagi’s grip is still tight, and you can tell by the flex of his fingers he wants to pull you away from April and you give him a few light taps on his person and he relaxes slightly.

“Let’s rehash next time.” Sunita says encouragingly. You don’t know when she’s made it over to you but she rests her chin on your shoulder so it’s nestle between yours and Aprils. Nodding you untangle your limbs and take a sip of cold tea, it was unsatisfying and bitter.

“Well!”, April claps her hands once with finality, “saw you have a Switch, are we playing Smash or what?”

There’s more chatter and Usagi gives your side a squeeze before heading over to the television. The pit in your stomach hadn’t gone away, and the person you wanted comfort from was also the reason the pit exist in the first place.

Feet carry you to the living room and you plop yourself behind Usagi, your legs circling his and you rest your cheek against him. The view is mostly obscured but you can make out the tiny characters fighting over his shoulder and you feel a gentle purr reverberate through your chest, warmth flooding your senses.

“Up for a round?” Sunita holds out the controller for you with a tentative smile. Snorting you snatch it from her with a playful glare, “I’m going to beat your ass, babe.”

Usagi laughs and it’s familiar and soothing and he smells a bit like Leo, but he’s still him and you suppose that’s all the comfort you could wish for right now.

--

TBC

A/N : sorry for the long awaited update! i needed to sort out how this fic was going to end with its reveal etc and so it took me a bit longer just so i could TRY and avoid plot holes with the upcoming next few chapters (: i do have the next one ready and i’ll be putting it in queue to upload in about 1-2 weeks! <3 please enjoy!!

taglist:  @maribatshipper @goldenpanda16 @moonlightmarauder​ @samilucas67

[rove-bogge]

🌌 If your OC has a nightmare, what’s it most likely about?

Content Warning: Some body horror imagery used. It starts with a noise of thread ripping. Collapsing and treading at the seams with horrible pops that make his heart tremble. Slow and agonising like someone pulling bits of skin from his bones with small hooks as he is pulled apart at his literal seams revealing squirming and hissing insects at his core. Falling out like blobs of meat that squirm and writhe on the ground screaming piercing his skull as he feels himself crumbling apart.

Insect drying out once exposed to the air as they wither away into dust and sludge on the floor. His chest tight as he feels like he can't breathe anymore no longer able to grasp anything as his skin flops away like rejected burlap burst open and useless unable to hold his insides in anymore...those insides that are rapidly crawling and writhing trying to avoid the suffocating fate that awaits them as they hit the ground in wet slaps.

The last one is able to hold its breath as it scurries frantically looking for some faint hope of survival. It's dizzying as it squeaks and cries trying to escape from the light and noise. It's so close to getting out of this dangerous place with a background drumming noise he hates so much. Escape is close if his little legs can scurry fast enough.

CRUNCH!

As the boot slams down on him Rove jolts awake, pounding an ache in his chest as he feels like he might drop dead any second as he gulps air like water into his lungs, sweat dripping from his skin setting a tremble down his spine. Lips quivering as dry sobs mix with retching combines a mixture of cries and a sickening feeling stuck in his throat.

Rove doesn't have normal nightmares like most people his age. He doesn't not fear monsters under his bed with teeth ground sharp, snake-like fingers and spider hair... He dreams of words turned truths that scar deep under his skin. His nightmares feel like death an inevitable fate perhaps. Maybe a metaphoric prediction.... one each magic user should fear and head caution of...

Magic will eventually eat them if they are not cautious and for some it is only a matter of when not if...

[apphiarothowrites]

-it's less a hard split between the phoenix and marco, and more that the line between the two has blurred so hard that you can't see where one begins and the other ends. An observer can tell which side is Marco (friend, brother, son, the steadfast right hand and laid back authority, powerhouse and doctor) and which is the devil in the fruit (the phoenix, immortal and burning, dying and being born, harming and healing) but there's a space in the middle between them where they meet that....is difficult to distinguish the difference between them.

-Marco smiles, and he has teeth on his tongue. He bites into a pineapple like it doesn't have a centimeter thick rind of scales tough enough to break normal enamel, and grins as the acid of the fruit inside eats his cheeks and gums. It's fascinating and disgusting to watch. (only a few of the longest-standing members of the crew remember that Marco's fruit was shaped like a pineapple and that the barely-a-man teen he was at the time ate the entire thing in one setting)

-Some fights that drag on longer than they should have abrupt endings. Marco flings himself into the fray with the meanest grin and glowing eyes. His talons rip their enemies apart, his elbows and knees shatter bone, blood spatters over his torso and face. The crew are never hurt, his fiery feathers shredding their enemies to ribbons while also healing every hurt his people have. When it's over their enemies are dead and Marco turns slowly, predator slow, surveying the carnage. Any twitch, the slightest groan, a hint of continued resistance is literally stomped out with a prejudice unlike any seen before (unlike any seen since the last time this happened). Between blinks he's back to his lazy grin, relaxed posture, and fraternal worry about injuries-the consummate caretaker back at the forefront like he didn't just wipe out a navy battalion by himself.

-the first time Ace sees Marco like this, the air is charged with something more than heat. It's as if something inside him is yearning, calling out to the incredible blue beast in the sky. Marco drops like a missile, wings and legs tucked in, until he falls upon Ace like a mist-blue fire fanning in every direction and roaring upwards as the phoenix burrows greedily into the very center of Ace's burning form. Ace has never felt anything like it, like a part of him he never knew was missing is suddenly there, like his core is coming home and bundling down close back where it belongs. When the flames die away, the crew finds Marco wrapped up around Ace and the both of them are weeping. Words are lost to their sobs, something like "never leaving again" and "always with you"

-Fire knows Fire, the phoenix knows it's kith and kin and home and fire knows it's creatures born of love and life and death. They're close to inseparable for a while after that, refusing to be further than arm's length from each other. Sleeping in the same bed, eating with sides pressed together, on deck orbiting each other. They didn't actually kiss until weeks later, a sexual spin to their relationship never occurring to them until everything else about Ace-And-Marco, Them, had been worked out.

-Marco knows(thinks) the phoenix is the only reason Ace is drawn to him, so he clings fiercely to his inner devil. He never wants to let Ace go, never wants to leave the younger man's side, so he digs his too-human fingers into the creature and the creature digs it's talons right back into him. Humans have doubts, humans have insecurities, and a little thing like a 20-something year age difference is nothing compared to the agelessness of Fire and Phoenix, the beast of the sky and rebirth merely worms deeper into it's host and doesn't care the reason the host clings back. Ace sees it, sometimes, that Marco doubts his position in Ace's heart from time to time, but he and the burning inside resolve to never give him reason to fully believe it.

feral marco thoughts (thanks xam and that one anon)

-probably territorial in the way that birds of prey are: smaller "birds" are annoying and not worth the time to chase off (birds are minor enemies, the grunts the goons the guys with forgettable faces and names not worth knowing)

-the moby is the nest and his crew is *his*, not necessarily his children but definitely his to the point that anyone who looks at a crew member funny gets a face full of beak and talon, or they get beat to shit by wings reinforced with haki (how does he have enough control to use haki when he's half mad feral? nobody knows but he crushed some skulls+caved in some rib cages and nobody can look at swans the same way again)

-bigger threats, captains of enemy crews or higher ranked marines, get a stare down. he goes still, wings flaring out and flaring, he looks bigger than he is and his birdsong call sounds less like a song and more like screamingwarningthreats that invite people to fuck off or die. He never blinks and he never looks away.

-if the bigger threat refuses to leave, he'll make them. if they resist talon and wings and riptearshredding, the beak is put to use. they can't do shit if they don't have a brain inside their pecked-open skull or eyes in their conveniently placed and wide open-for-the-taking sockets.

-he likes his meat raw and he likes his treasures to be either on fire or shiny. when ace presents both (shiny bracelets, the sheath of his knife, the buckle of his belt, the glossy beads on his hat and his necklace, his fire calling out-), he doesn't try to resist he just fucking lands on him, pins him in place, and refuses to let him leave or move. "This is mine now" right up until ace has to eat and then he has a bird the size of a horse right up on his back every step of the way, neck curving over his should to steal bites from the plate and talons stepping on his boots

[stranger-nightmare]

𝐀𝐥𝐥 𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐒𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐬

Pairing: Bucky x (female) Reader

Summary: Bucky discovers a scar on your body that he’s never seen before. Trying to explain to him how it happened isn’t going to be easy... (this is not about self-harming just in case that triggers anyone🥰🖤)

Warnings: hurt / comfort, angst, fluff, mention of previous sexy time with (very) brief description, implications of current sexy times, some swearing, I’m gonna say minors DNI just to be safe

A/N: this idea came to me whilst I was falling asleep so I literally got up and typed most of this on my phone at like 2am before I forgot the idea, I hope you like it!!🖤🥰✨🥺

This is for people 18+ only. Minors do not read on. If you click ‘keep reading’ you are hereby agreeing that you are 18 or older.

Before reading: this oneshot works within a world where y/n and Bucky were together in the 40s before he ‘died’ and resurfaced as the Winter Soldier many years later. Y/n has also managed to live a long life, being roughly the same age in the modern era as she was in the 40s. But how exactly is up to you, whether y/n is an immortal witch or also received the super-solider serum or whatever is up to you!!

—

Lucky didn’t even begin to describe your situation. It couldn’t be anything short of a miracle that had brought you and Bucky back together after almost a century apart.

You and Bucky had been together back in the 40s. You’d been completely broken upon hearing about his death. It had taken decades for you to slowly repair yourself.

And then all those repairs were ripped apart again when Bucky had resurfaced. Resurfaced as something other than himself. It almost hurt more to see him like this than it did when you believed he was dead.

You could only thank the Gods and the people of Wakanda for healing him, bringing back the Bucky you knew and loved. For the most part anyway.

Of course there was no way he was ever going to completely heal. The Winter Soldier would haunt him for the rest of his life. There was nothing anyone could do about that. It had taken a long time for him to finally come round to you again. He wanted nothing more than to be with you, for things to be as they once were. But he still struggled with trusting himself. Especially around you. It’d been nearly four months after you’d reunited that he’d finally kissed you. It was soft, gentle, cautious. He daren’t let himself get too impassioned.

It’d been another two months after that you’d finally convinced him to have sex with you. Again, it had been too soft, too cautious, neither of you finding release. He’d only thrusted into you a few times before he told you he needed to stop, feeling overwhelmed. But you almost didn’t care. All you cared about was that he tried. He was trying. You’d spent the rest of that night just holding him in your arms, reassuring him softly.

Right now though you could barely contain your excitement as Bucky’s lips pressed against yours once again. It was still cautious, but not quite as gentle as before. There was an undercurrent of urgency in his lips. His flesh hand was cupping the back of your neck, holding you against him, tipping your head back so he could gain better access to your mouth. His metal arm was resting so gently on your waist, his grip barely there at all. You fisted your hands in his shirt, desperately seeking permission to take it off him. He obliges, breaking his lips from yours to remove his shirt and your own.

You’re now both on the bed. You're leaning up slightly against the headboard as Bucky hovers over you. You only have your bra and underwear left on, Bucky is stripped down to his boxers. You can feel Bucky slowly gaining confidence, his hands more firm and sure where they touched you. He runs his hands up your body, sending shivers through you. He reaches your shoulders and hooks his fingers under your bra straps. He stops kissing you to rake his eyes down your body, following his hands as he slowly pushes the straps off your shoulders.

He slowly drags your bra strap down your arm, a trail of fire blazing on your skin as his fingers lightly trace your flesh. Without really realising you flip your hair over your shoulder, suddenly exposing the skin from your collarbone down to the edge of your breast where your bra cup was still loosely in place.

You see Bucky’s eyes narrow, staring at your skin. His fingers are then tracing back up your skin, stopping a spot just below your left collarbone. He circles one finger around the same spot gently. You suddenly realise what he’s looking at.

“This must be new” he muses. “Well new as in it wasn’t there when we were together in the 40s. I thought I’d seen all your scars already” he whispers. “What happened?” His voice takes a slightly more serious turn.

You sighed lightly, knowing this conversation wasn’t going to go down well. You avert your eyes, unsure of how to broach the topic.

“Y/n, what happend?” He pushes, concern coating his voice.

“It’s nothing…” you trail off whilst shrugging, flipping your hair back over your shoulder to cover the mark you were suddenly self-conscious of.

“Y/n” Bucky says more firmly as he pushes your hair back again, exposing the scar. He leans forward, his lips ghosting the mark on your chest, placing the most delicate of kisses to the old wound. “Please, please just tell me” he murmurs against your skin.

You feel tears sting your eyes but you knew you needed to be strong in this moment.

“It was you” you finally whisper.

Bucky’s lips freeze against your skin, his entire body going tense.

“What?” He breathes, almost inaudible.

“It was you” you whisper again. He sits up suddenly, his eyes locking with yours. You can see pure anguish and pain in his eyes, his own tears threatening to spill.

“Well it wasn’t you, exactly. It was the Winter Soldier” you try to reassure him quickly as torment spreads across his face.

“I did this to you?” He whispers, his voice cracking.

“No, no it wasn’t you, Bucky. I shouldn’t have said it like that. It was the Winter Soldier, you didn’t know what you were doing!” You stammer frantically as you see him close off from you. You reach for him but he sits further back, dodging your grasp, his gaze dropping, staring at nothing.

It had taken months for Bucky to finally allow himself to touch you again. He was still working on trusting himself, fearful that he would somehow hurt you, that the Winter Soldier would somehow break through again. Now you could see months of progress vanish in front of your eyes. He retreated into himself, his hands sliding off you, closing in around himself. You want to reach out to him, to hold him, but you knew it was probably best to just give him a second.

“When?” He finally whispers after a period of palpable silence. You stare at him in silence, you really didn’t want to tell him anymore. You didn’t want to see him withdraw any further into himself, away from you. You could feel the ache in your heart at the growing distance between you.

“When?!” He repeats more harshly after your don’t respond. You swallow nervously before answering.

“The day on the bridge. With Steve, Nat and Sam” you whisper. A shuddering sigh of realisation racks through him. Pain spreads across his face again, his fists balling impossibly tight. You can see another tear on the precipice of falling from his eye.

“You managed to hit both Nat and I in the same shoulder, it’s uncanny really” you try to joke lightly. The joke didn’t work, pain flashes across his face again, clearly even more upset that you reminded him about the fact he shot Nat as well.

“Shit” you mouth to yourself. “Sorry, it was a stupid joke" you mutter. “You know neither of us blame you” you reach forward to stroke his face gently. He freezes at your touch, but at least he doesn’t pull away.

Until he does.

He gets up, only shuffling a few paces before sitting on the floor at the foot of the bed. He tucks his knees up, hiding his face between his hands, his elbows resting on his knees. You feel your heart break seeing him like this.

You crawl off the bed, shuffling over to him. You sit on the floor next to him, as close as you can get without actually touching him.

“Bucky?” You venture quietly after a few minutes of silence. “Baby please. It’s okay. It wasn’t you. You didn’t know what you were you doing. You’re not that person anymore. I trust you completely. I trust you with my life, Buck” you tell him softly. He just shakes his head slightly.

You reach your hand out again, resting it ever so slightly on his arm. You keep mostly still, just lightly stroking him with your thumb. He doesn’t move away from your touch which you take to be a somewhat good sign. After another short while you shuffle yourself closer to him, wrapping your other arm around his shoulders.

To your mild surprise he actually lets you keep your arm on him. You don’t push your luck just yet, you simply stroke his arms with your hand, appreciating that he was allowing even this small amount of physical contact.

You wanted to reassure him again, tell him that you didn’t blame him in any way, that he had nothing to feel guilty about. But you could see that your words weren’t getting through to him. He was going to sit with this no matter what you said. So instead of trying to reassure him you did the next best thing and simply wrapped yourself a little bit tighter around him as he cried quietly. You stroked his head softly, placing the gentlest kisses all around his head and face, anywhere you could reach as he rocked in your arms.

“I’m sorry” he eventually whispers, lifting his head to look at you. His voice cracks as he whispers “please forgive me."

You cup his face in your hands, wiping his tears with your thumbs. You place the softest kiss to his lips, tasing the salt of both your tears.

“Bucky, you don’t have to apologise to me” you tell him gently. “It’s not about my forgiveness. You have to forgive yourself.” He takes another shuddering breath, taking in your words. He leans forward ever so slightly, placing his forehead on yours. He nods lightly.

You smiled to yourself. You knew he wasn’t going to forgive himself right away, perhaps not even for a long while. But at least it seemed like he was willing to try. You press your lips to his and feel warmth spread in your chest when he finally starts to reciprocate, moving his mouth against yours.

“Tell me there aren’t any other scars I’m responsible for” he breathes.

“Just this one” you guide his hand down your leg, directing him to the small scar below your knee. “Tripped over your army boots."

You see the smallest smile spread on his face.

“Yes, that one I remember."

Masterlist

A/N: mmmmm I think I really like this one and I hope you do too!🥰🖤✨

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[ameliawarnerr]

Evanescent (Sequel)

Teaser

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.

.

—A new beginning may bring new friends, new surroundings, new opportunities but ‘new’ doesn't always mean that the past is lying dead behind a locked door. The door can open. The past can trespass your current.

.

.

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_One Year Later_

Jake's POV

Through the window, I watch as the snow flakes take their time to touch the ground. Unlike the snow, the people are in a hurry. Understandable. Who wouldn't want to reach home to their families on Christmas?

I sit in my car, motionless. I’m in no such hurry— since I got no one waiting home for me.

I glance to the street, a lady grabs my attention. Her hands are full— one with presents, other with a cat. Maybe I should get a cat too. The cat opens her mouth and wiggles in the lady’s grip. The lady stumbles a little but doesn't fall. She shouts something, her words directed to her cat. The cat seems to understand each word and she raises her hands and messes with the lady's face and hair. Yeah, no, no cats.

The door to the driver’s seat opens. I snap my head back inside the car, finding Lucas with two coffees. A second later, Garrett enters the backseat. He closes the door with exhausted sigh. “We should have skipped coffee today. The crowd is crazy.”

Lucas hands me my coffee. “Any reason why you are not driving your own car?” He asks taking a sip of his coffee.

I sip my coffee. “I’m distracted. So unless you want want to hit the road- quite literally- you better not let me drive.” I find myself zoning out in every couple of minutes especially when I am doing something boring such as driving.

Garrett laughs from behind. “He’s just sad because he doesn't have a date tonight.” I fight the urge to roll my eyes and take another sip.

“I don't need a date to get me through nights. I’m just tired.” I relax in my seat and close my eyes as Lucas starts driving.

“Yeah, well, you might be regretting it now.” Lucas says in his usual excited tone.

I open my one eye. “Regret what?”

“Selling off the freedom that you had when you were a wanted hacker.” He might not know many things about me but he is right about that. When FBI reached out to me to put an end to that chase and become an asset for the government, I couldn't deny. I was sick of running. “I mean, it took you three months to do things by legal means.” True, again. Legal ways are always time consuming. I’d still prefer illegal means over them.

Ignoring the topic, I ask, “How long until I am on my bed?”

“Just sleep. We’ll wake you up.” Garrett says from behind.

“Or carry you. Bridal style, no negotiations.” Lucas chimes with a smile. He always come up with a way to tease me yet bring a smile to my face. Reminds me of someone. Two persons, actually.

“No, thanks. I'd rather sleep in the car.” I say back.

The car stops on the signal. On our right, there are a couple of teenagers with drinks in their hands. They count to three before clashing their glasses together and—

“Merry Christmas!”

Lucas looks at me, I stare blankly at his face though I’m aware where his mind is. Garrett stares between us, getting the silent message too.

“No.” I say.

“Definately.” Lucas says.

I sigh.

Our hands rise to the middle of the car with coffees in our hands. The coffees clash together. “Merry fucking Christmas!” Lucas and Garrett sings. I only stare at them and I think I am having a ridiculous smile.

It's like the FBI sincerely wanted us to be friends. We are one unit, similar age and are given three flats in the same apartment building and on the same floor. We usually prefer to hang out in Garrett’s apartment since he's a clean freak. Lucas and me, on the other hand, are lazy and clean once a week. But Lucas knows Garrett’s kitchen more than him. When we decide to stay in and work on something together, Lucas usually cooks. I'm the incharge of explaining things or sometimes taking decisions. We form a pretty descent team.

Meaningless thoughts start forming in my mind as I drift to sleep. I am not sure if they actually carry me to bed in bridal style or not but in the middle of the night, I find myself comfortable in my bed.

My phone greets me in the morning. I take it, the things I hate the most about my work is that I have to take calls everytime, no exception. So without checking the name or number I put it to my ear.

“Uhm. I know this is no way of saying good morning but a really pretty girl is at your door. I would hit on her since you are sleeping like dead while she’s ringing your bell— wait, that rhymed, didn't it?” I groan. He clears his throats. “Anyway, she's sort of in a panicky condition. I’d advice to open the door before she breaks it.” Lucas’s voice might not be able to wake me up sometimes but his words somehow does.

A girl capable of breaking a door. Only one person comes in my mind and I shove that thought as far away as possible.

Using my hand, I set my hair temporarily as I make my way to the door.

I open the door. And the thought I shoved off is now standing in front of me in a human form. Was it really coffee I had last night?

Her breaths are unsteady. “I need you. I need your help.”

(Find all chapters of Evanescent here!)

---------------------

Yessss Agent Jake Donfort!!

What do you think?!

This might not be my best but I have debate competition tomorrow so I tried my best in the little time I had.

Anyways!!

I'm so happy for Jake.

Thanks y’all for supporting and giving me motivation to write a sequel.

I hope you like it.

Do comment! (Don’t be a silent reader, c’mon, tell me your thoughts.)

Love y’all!!

;)

[swtki]

Surprise Pregnancy - Marvel

Summary: Head cannons for how the MCU boys would react to an unplanned pregnancy.

Warnings: mentions of sex, mostly fluff, all characters are pro choice, swearing, slight angst, mentions of cigarettes, mention of breeding kink.

A/N: this is gonna be like the one I did for the HP boys.

Steve Rogers

Okay lets be honest I think that man wears a condom AND pulls out bc he will take NO RISKS.

Until after you’re married, of course.

Then its a sometimes condom sometimes morning after pill type beat.

Its not that he doesn’t want a kid, he just wants to wait until someone isn’t trying to kill him every day.

Steve, who usually has pink cheeks and relaxed eyes, went cold and clammy when you mentioned a late period.

Home tests weren’t really around for him, so he’s used to hearing about cycles and the science of that.

Man gets out a full calendar to get to the bottom of this.

“Okay so if you got your last one here, and then the next one here, your cycle will last about 29 days. Meaning you should have gotten it here but its now two weeks past that point-“

He probably has one of the girls take you to the doctor to get a test.

But he is happy asf when he gets your call.

honestly Steve is from a generation where they gave a kid a Marlboro and called it childcare.

Within 9 months he has tried to give you: Coffee, deli meat, the cheese you can’t eat, sushi, any type of soda to ever walk this fucking planet (plus Thor trying to give you soda from those bougie planets) 

He will not buy a book. Don’t even try to ask him.

Although the apartment is small, its much better than the tower.

Steve is waiting outside during delivery. Support from the hall!

He want’s to name your kid after his dead relative with an old persons name 💀

“We are not naming our child Edna.”

“Is Ashley much better??”

The way this man is so incapable of holding a child in a way that doesn’t make you feel like he’s gonna drop it.

Lowkey afraid of babies tbh

Parenting styles clash of course.

“No I didn’t plug the ‘ wall socket protectors ‘ in. Back in my day-“

Bucky prob the Godfather.

Overall: Fun dad.

Bucky Barnes

He has a breeding kink but like….forgets that breeding produces a human.

Tbh I don’t think Bucky wants kids

Like they aren’t in the plan.

He wants to be the cool uncle.

Also his kids would physically be older than him at some point and thats kinda weird.

Anyways, he’s pretty shocked when you pop up with not one, but four positive tests.

man literally got up and went to another room, he couldn’t deal

ceo of needing to sleep on it

ceo of leaving his gf alone

He comes back all business

“Do you…y’know…want a….y’know?”

Man would pull it out himself if you asked him to I know that bionic arm could come in handy 👀

after many many many hours of talking, you decide the study should be the new nursery.

Oh boy is redecoration a fun time

“I love you, Bucky, but we cannot have world war II memorabilia in our baby’s nursery.”

not too happy about hanging it up in the living room bc he kinda wants to keep his age private yet he will not say “these were my great grandfathers”

Probably carried around a sack of flour so he could learn how to hold a baby

RIP the first two sacks, they were dropped.

refuses to go to classes

will let you hold his metal arm in delivery tho

Steve’s the Godfather ofc

Bucky kind of treats the baby like another adult but…weaker.

He’s so weird around the baby

He adores it tho

Like falls asleep with them on his chest

slightly scary though because he can toss and turn so its good until panic sets in.

over all: fun but chaotic dad.



Loki Laufeyson

Honestly I can’t imagine Loki stays in the courting stage very long.

He’s probably married you, bedded you, and moved you in all within seven months.

And three months after that you’re pregnant with his (first) child.

He of course has wanted this practically since day 1

So when you show him the test sticks he was like 😃 what

then you had to explain what a midguardian pregnancy test was

he was ecstatic lol

Nursery done in a day

Theres gold.

Like

decorative gold

in a babies room.

He extra like that ig

He refuses to let you do anything. Need to stand up? He’s helping you do so.

Need water? conjured that bitch

the way he will not hesitate

He was in the room during delivery, his hand being crushed by yours

Agreeing on a modern name, still with roots to Nordic culture.

Loki wants more almost immediately

He keeps an eye on his baby all the time

and lets you sleep while he casts himself in the nursery to take care of the crying child.

He’s scared for Thor.

Like he knows Thor and your kid might get into some bullshit and he doesn’t want that.

uncle tingz

overall: Protective af

Thor Oddinson

Oh this is a wild ride, strap in.

Bro I know I said Bucky had a breeding kink but didn’t actually want a kid then?

Ok well Thor has a breeding kink and he means it.

You’re both prepared for a kid, so if it happens so be it.

He literally opened a window and screamed “A NEW HEIR IS FORMING!” when he found out.

Weirdo.

Still you weren’t exactly sure the two of you should be parents.

For one, the dining room was covered in smashed mugs.

But he loved you and you loved him, so you decided to keep it.

Complete opposite of Loki

Even when you’re struggling to get out of bed bc you’re so big hes like 👁👁 what

Anyways, he does help when he can.

He wants the kid to be a kid, like a normal non-king kid.

So the nursery is pretty modest.

Many earth tones, a lot of traditional norse decor.

He named the baby after his Mother, Frigga

The kingdom was so happy at the new addition to the royal home.

He prob started teaching her to fight as soon as she could walk.

He’s a very protective father

Loki and Frigga prank the hell out of him, teaching her magic and spells.

Overall: Proud parent

Peter Parker

Out of all of them this was probably the most unplanned.

You two are only starting your first year of university, still living in separate dorms.

Your period is like three weeks late.

You’re hoping its just stress.

Then the nausea kicks in.

So you do what any person in denial would do, you go to the campus clinic for an antibiotic or antiviral.

“Are you aware you’re with child?” bruh moment

Not sure what to do, you avoid your boyfriend for a whole week.

He corners you like “🥺 what happen”

so you break down and start rambling

“IwenttotheclinicandtheytoldmeI’mpregnantand nowIhavetodecideifIwanttokeepitornotandifyouleaveIdon’tknowwhatI’lldo.”

hes just like 😅 oh god

Hes supportive, even saying he’ll go to the ab*rtion clinic with you if that’s what you choose.

He doesn’t want anything to hurt you, so he takes over your course work for the time being.

Over the next two weeks you reach a conclusion; You’d like to keep it.

Peter is supportive of course, he always wanted to be a dad some day.

May is kinda disappointed ngl

But she is also supportive, even agreeing to lend a hand so you two can stay in school.

Luckily, you live in a time where parenting and school are able to be done at the same time.

You urge Peter to stay in normal classes so he can stay on track for his masters

You switch to an online program, spending more time at home.

Btw you moved into May’s for a bit

Because although she’d never been pregnant herself, she could take care of you.

Peter really did come over every weekend.

sort of off topic but if the spider bite changed his DNA, would his kid have powers?

Anyways, he was there during delivery and he fell in love with your kid as soon as they were born.

He decided to transfer to NYU so he could stay close

Shitty apartment down the hall from May = new home

overall: king shit

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[here4theheartbreak]

Afternoon Naps (myg + pjm)

AO3 Link Here!

Relationships: Jimin x Yoongi Genre: smut Rating: Explicit Word Count: ~5.5k

Tags: Smut, Consensual Somnophilia, Vampires, Dirty Talk, Multiple Orgasms, Coming Untouched, Established Relationship, Vampire Sex, Vampire Biting/Blood Drinking, Sleeping Medication, Consensual Necrophilia (Technically), Temporary Character Death, Vampire Min Yoongi, Human Park Jimin, Bottom Park Jimin

Summary: Jimin finds out his boyfriend's biggest secret, and reveals his own biggest kink. They realize that this can benefit both of them.

A/N: Fifth Kinktober fic, day 7: somnophlia; this fic is also filling a request from ages ago. @sujigguk requested a fic with “you’re not human”

A/N 2: The fic contains technically necrophilia -- vampire lore in this fic has the vampire "dying" (i.e. heart/breathing stops, body goes cold, rigor mortis sets in) while resting in their coffins. All sexual acts are discussed and consented to by both parties prior to this.

“Jimin!” Yoongi’s voice was sharp… And not all that happy when he opened the door of his apartment. Jimin smiled sheepishly. 

“Surprise?” He said softly. 

“What are you doing here?”

Yoongi looked tense as he stood in the doorway. From what Jimin could see over his shoulder, his blinds were drawn, and his apartment was still mostly dark. Strange, given it was nearly ten in the morning.

“Did I wake you?”

Yoongi hesitated. “No.”

Jimin’s smile faded a little. “I wanted to come by… It’s been a week.”

“We’ve been texting.” 

Jimin’s smile disappeared completely. “I disturbed you. I’m sorry.” He backed up, ready to head down the hall.

“Wait, no, Jimin. Don’t go. You just surprised me, I’m not used to visitors coming by unexpectedly.”

Jimin looked at him, trying to gauge if he was being sincere. Jimin and Yoongi had been dating for nearly six months. It was great. Yoongi was always there for him, their dates were fun, and they never ran out of things to talk about. The sex was mind blowing. Sure, they fought a little, but never a big thing. The one oddity in all their time together… Was that Jimin was never invited to sleep over at Yoongi’s. Yoongi had stayed at Jimin’s a few times, and Jimin had come over once or twice, but never for more than a few minutes. 

The last time they were together in person, Jimin had hinted at wanting to stay over at Yoongi’s one night. Yoongi had seemed okay with the idea, but also a bit stiff about it. 

“I should have texted,” Jimin finally said.

“Yes,” Yoongi agreed. “But… You’re here, I can spare a few minutes.” He sighed heavily and stepped aside, letting Jimin in. 

“Dark,” Jimin commented as he entered. “Are you feeling okay? You look a little pale.” He reached out for Yoongi’s head, only to have Yoongi jerk away.

“I’m fine.”

Jimin scowled then, crossing his arms. “What’s wrong with you?”

Yoongi blinked at him. 

“You’re acting weird. I’ve been with you half a year, I know when you’re not yourself. What’s wrong?”

“It…” Yoongi’s shoulders sagged. “It’s very hard to explain.”

“Well try. I don’t appreciate being kept in the dark. Literally or figuratively.” Jimin went to flip on a light. 

Yoongi grabbed his wrist. His hand was frigid, and his grip was tight. Jimin gasped. 

“Don’t.” Yoongi’s voice was sharp.

“Wh… What’s going on? You’re kinda starting to scare me.”

“I don’t mean to.” Yoongi let go of Jimin’s wrist.

“Why are you so cold?” Jimin went forward. Yoongi backed away but Jimin ignored him, grabbing his face. “Jesus, you’re freezing. Are you sick?”

“Not exactly,” Yoongi mumbled.

“Why won’t you look at me?”

“Jimin, please…” Yoongi leaned into his touch, his eyes screwed shut. “Please just go home… I promise, I’ll explain everything tonight.”

“No. You can explain right now, Min Yoongi.” Jimin crossed his arms and stood in front of the door, facing Yoongi. 

“It’s not easy,” Yoongi muttered. Jimin remained silent. He sighed. “Fine. I… I really wanted us to last.”

Jimin narrowed his eyes, not liking how this was sounding. Yoongi stuffed his hands into his pockets. 

“I’m a monster.”

“What makes you a monster?” Jimin pressed.

“Fangs? Death? Drinking blood?” Yoongi shrugged. “Any number of things. I mean a literal monster.”

Jimin laughed, shaking his head. “Oh, come on, don’t be silly. Yoongi, what is it really?” He asked. He flicked on the light. Yoongi winced visibly, raising his hand to shield from the indoor light.

Jimin’s entire body went cold. Yoongi was standing in front of him. His Yoongi – lean muscle and a sweet, round face, gentle eyes and guitar callused fingers… But not his Yoongi at the same time. The person in front of him was paler than Yoongi – his face almost grey it was so pale. His eyes were dark. Not just dark, but the pupils seemed to have expanded, filling the whites of his eyes and giving him a demonic gaze. 

Yoongi let his hand fall, his expression timid despite the horror his features implied. 

“You’re not human,” Jimin whispered.

“I’m a monster,” Yoongi agreed. “A vampire… Specifically.” He looked down. “Are you going to run away screaming now?”

“Make me, you troll,” Jimin grumbled. He let his arms fall and took a cautious step forward. 

“I’m a vampire, not a troll.”

Jimin grinned at that, seeing the curve of a smile on Yoongi’s lips. “I’ll get it right eventually… Am I in danger? Standing here like this?”

“No. I have excellent control over my feeding… Why aren’t you scared?” Yoongi looked up, meeting Jimin’s gaze.

“I am.”

“You aren’t showing it… Aside from a fast heartbeat… I can’t see any fear on your pretty face. And your heart beats fast around me all the time.”

Jimin smiled. “Flirting isn’t gonna get you out of the doghouse… Why didn’t you tell me before?”

“You’re right.” Yoongi snapped his fingers. “I always forget. When is the right date to tell your new boyfriend you died and came back as a bloodsucking creature of the night? That once a week you have to spend a day in a coffin literally dead or you get wildly sick? Isn’t it the third? Or no, the seventh?”

Jimin slapped Yoongi’s shoulder with some force, smirking when he cried out, rubbing it. “Weak for a vampire.”

“I’m immortal, not immune to my boyfriend’s abuse,” Yoongi grumbled.

“Do you drink blood?”

“Of course I do.”

“Human?”

“When I can.”

“From live people?”

“Is that jealousy I hear in your tone, Mr. Park?”

Jimin glared. “You lied to me for six months, I’m allowed to interrogate you.”

Yoongi smiled softly. “I’m frankly just… In amazement that you’re still standing here. And no… Not live humans, not for a very long time. You may proceed with the interrogation – but I insist on us moving out of my hallway and to an actual sitting location.” He pointed to the couch.

“Do you have anything to drink? If I open your fridge… Will I find bags of blood?”

Yoongi made a noise of offense and crossed his arms. “Of course not, I’m not some barbarian. You’ll find a recyclable bottle of that’s filled with blood. But my sodas are in the door.”

Jimin went over to the fridge and opened it. Sure enough, there were three large water bottles filled with a very suspicious reddish liquid. He grabbed a soda from the door and went over to the couch, sitting next to Yoongi.

“How old are you? I’m guessing that twenty-seven was a lie.”

“I was twenty-seven when I died. Thirty-one years ago.”

“Oooh, I bagged myself a silver fox, huh?”

Yoongi huffed once more. “I died at twenty-seven.”

“Mhm… And now you’re fifty-eight.” 

“Jimin, I’m gonna…” 

Jimin giggled. “I guess I shouldn’t tease you… You might bite me… Would you?”

“Bite you? Not unless you asked.”

“Would it turn me into a vampire?”

“No. There’s a very specific ritual for that.”

Jimin nodded. “Cool. So, what does a vampire do? Aside from drinking blood… What’s special about you? I’ve seen you in the day. You complain a whole lot, but you don’t sparkle or ignite like a firework. We’ve taken plenty of pictures together… And you eat way too much garlic. You also sleep at night, and probably too long… And you aren’t any stronger than I am.”

“You’re making me feel real great here, Jimin,” Yoongi joked, smiling as he spoke.

Jimin laughed. “Sorry—I just mean… You seem human. I’ve never… Really assumed anything was off about you.”

“The great thing about humans, is that you all really like to assume everyone is like you. You avoid the things that support the opposite. Inhuman behavior, to some degree, so long as it’s not shocking or jarring, you can brush off as an odd quirk, a funny trait. I’m close to human, yes, but I am not human. I complain in the sun because my skin is sensitive. Bursting into flames is a myth, but I do burn far easier than most humans. My skin’s melanin has decayed over the years without cellular growth.”

“Which is why you’re so pale too.”

Yoongi grunted an affirmative. “Garlic is a myth, as is the no reflection thing. I’m sure hundreds of years ago, maybe? There might have been some truth to it, but modern technology and modern mirrors work different, so I can see myself the same as you. I am stronger than you, but I do well at hiding it most of the time. Any displays of it, you either don’t see, or brush aside. I do also sleep at night, yes – because I’ve put myself on a human schedule. I do this so I can live among you all without problems. Once a week though, I must sleep during the day. Sleeping at night is akin to a human living on a series of short naps at mid-afternoon. It’s not fully restful and it’s dangerous to do long term. I compensate by sleeping through the day one day per week, in the appropriate resting place.”

“R… Resting place?”

“My coffin.”

Jimin’s eyes bulged. “Coffin?”

“Yes, I am dead. I have a coffin.”

“That you sleep in?”

“Once a week. Otherwise, I sleep in the bed.” 

Jimin nodded, his brows furrowed. 

“Gonna run yet?” Yoongi asked.

“No… Is there anything else different?”

“Well… We’re excellent in bed,” Yoongi joked. Jimin glanced up. “I mean it. We have a… Special thing about us. You’ve had sex with other men before me, right?”

“Yeah, a few.”

“Haven’t you ever noticed that when we have sex… I’m much—”

“Harder.”

Yoongi nodded. 

Jimin pouted. “I assumed it was because I just really turned you on. It’s because you’re a vampire?”

“Well, no, you really do turn me on... A lot. But a few days after I do my daytime sleep, I get naturally more rigid. I’m not sure why – I think it has something do with… Ah, well it’s gross. But it just happens.”

Jimin sat back, sighing softly. “You’re immortal.”

“Yes.”

“Honestly… I think that’s the thing that bothers me most about this. Not that you’re undead or drink blood or… But that you’re gonna never grow old. And I’m…”

“I’m sorry,” Yoongi whispered.

“If we work out…” Jimin began. “And stay together… You’ll turn me, right? You’d have to – for us to… Be together.”

“Not necessarily. While I wouldn’t hate the idea of someone’s company in my life… I know that a limited existence is so valued and important. It’s something that I would be willing to discuss… If we work out, and when you are older.”

Jimin nodded. “Okay.”

“Okay?” Yoongi pressed. “That’s it?”

Jimin shrugged. “We all have secrets, Yoongi.”

“I doubt you have a secret as big as this, Jimin.”

“No… But I have one that… People have left for.”

Yoongi seemed to perk up a little at that, his brows furrowed. Despite the difference in his eyes, the sleek black, Jimin found his expression endearing and sweet. 

“I like your eyes like this… Can you change them at will?” He asked.

“No. They’re like this because I’ve not fed for a while. I have to keep myself fed and rested or they shift; they’ll be back to normal after I wake up and drink… What secret could you have that’s so big, Jimin?” 

“Well… I…” Jimin winced. “God, it’s weird as hell, I’m so sorry.”

“I won’t run,” Yoongi promised. “You’re sitting here next to me after finding out I’m a living dead monster. The least I can do is listen to your secret and try to understand.”

Jimin smiled softly at that. He nodded. “I like… Sleep sex.”

“What do you mean?”

“Like I like the idea of… Having sex with someone while they sleep or are unconscious. With their consent! I mean… I’d never… Do something nonconsensual.”

Yoongi remained silent a moment, thinking. “Do you want someone to have sex with you while you sleep? Or do you want to have sex with someone while they sleep?”

“Both, I guess. I like the idea of both. I’ve never done it. Most people stop talking to me after I tell them.”

“Why would they?” Yoongi pressed. “We all have kinks and fantasies.”

“Yeah, but a lot of them see it as a form of rape. And I get it, it’s a super grey area. You can’t change your mind while you’re asleep, so like… If you say it’s okay, and then as you drift off to sleep decide you don’t want it… Then it becomes nonconsent.”

Yoongi nodded in understanding. “Well I think that can be resolved just by open communication,” he said, touching his hand to his chin in thought. “If you trust your partner and they trust you, you two should be able to communicate what is and isn’t okay. I don’t think a kink like this is unsafe or unhealthy, as long as – like you said – it’s done with full consent.”

Jimin smiled cautiously, his heart skipping a beat. “You mean… You don’t find it gross?”

“Not at all.” Yoongi smiled. “I’m glad you shared it with me. I still don’t think it’s worse than me being a blood sucking monster… But I know it’s a secret you hold close, so I appreciate your trust. But… Would you want to try this with me someday?”

“Would I ever?” Jimin asked. He chuckled a little. “I fantasize about it a lot.” 

Yoongi smirked. He moved little closer, pulling Jimin to him. “Would you want to try it today?” He asked softly.

Jimin’s eyes widened. Yoongi continued. “Look… When I sleep… In my coffin. I’ll be honest with you. I don’t breathe. I don’t move. I am… For all intents and purposes… Dead. I don’t decay, obviously. But my body goes very cold, my lungs and heart go still… And my body stiffens, as a corpse would. That includes… My dick.”

Jimin remained quiet, processing what Yoongi was suggesting. Yoongi slid his hands over Jimin’s shoulders slowly as he spoke. “So, if someone… Say my very curious, very human boyfriend… Happened to get horny while I was sleeping in my coffin… He could climb in and use my body… Ride me… And I’d remain fully unconscious no matter what.”

“Because you’re dead…” Jimin clarified. 

Yoongi nodded. “Temporarily. I wouldn’t wake for anything, unless you shined sunlight on my body. So… If you want to do this…”

“Would you fuck me when you wake?” Jimin said quickly. “If I was sleeping, would you… Return the favor?”

“I wake in the late afternoon usually. You’d likely still be up.”

“Not if I took a sleeping pill,” Jimin suggested. “I have some, I used to get nightmares and they help. I don’t use them often, but I bring them just in case. I could take one after… And you could… Help get rid of your afternoon wood with my body.”

Yoongi shifted visibly on the couch. His tongue darted out, swiping over his lips. Jimin smirked. He leaned forward, sliding his hands up Yoongi’s thighs. “Does that idea sound good? You like it.”

Yoongi nodded. “I do,” he breathed. 

“We can do it today?”

“Yes but… Jimin… You understand what I mean. When I lay in my coffin… You will be looking at the equivalent of a corpse.”

“I understand. But you’re still you. You say you’ll only be still and cold… You won’t be decaying or rotting or anything you associate with a dead body. And you’ll be waking up and… We’ll be together.”

“Of course.”

“Would it turn you on? Knowing I used you while you… Rested?”

Yoongi smiled softly, lowering his gaze. “Frankly? That’s… An incredibly sexy thought. The thought of you climbing into my coffin with me alone is enough to… Well… I’ve thought of it more than once. I never even imagined you’d be willing to… Let alone wanting to… Do more.”

“Should I stay in the coffin with you? After I finish?”

“I’m afraid not.” Yoongi shook his head. “Waking from my rest is a very jarring thing. I fear I might accidentally hurt you. I have a bed in my room next to the coffin, you can sleep there.”

Jimin nodded. “I do want this as long as you do. And I do want you to… Do the same.”

Yoongi leaned forward, kissing Jimin gently. 

“Hey… You’re a vampire… Don’t you have fangs?”

“They retract. When I’m resting they will come out, so don’t kiss me – you could get poked. But when I’m awake I can pull them in and out as needed.”

“Can I see them?” Jimin whispered. 

Yoongi seemed to be thinking about it. He grinned then. His wide, gummy grin suddenly became something much more frightening… And sexier, when Jimin realized his canines had lengthened and transformed into sharp, deadly points. Jimin’s breath left in a rush. 

“Oh wow…”

Yoongi’s smile dropped again to a relaxed expression. “Satisfied?” He asked, his tone slightly breathier with the fangs in the way. 

Jimin nodded. “I think you need to go to bed soon,” he murmured.

Yoongi smirked, one fang peeking out of his lip. “Horny bastard.”

“Not my fault.” Jimin squeezed Yoongi’s thighs. “Should I wait out here?”

“Please. Though it’s not disturbing I do like going to sleep alone. You’re free to come in in about fifteen minutes… I’ll be resting by then. The lube is in the top drawer of the dresser in the bedroom. 

“See you in the evening,” Jimin said. Yoongi rose and leaned forward, pecking Jimin’s mouth gently. 

Fifteen minutes had never been so damn slow. Jimin finished his drink and paced around the apartment, trying to distract from the ticking clock. He took the time to explore Yoongi’s place; he’d never had a chance to before. He had quite a number of interesting trinkets that Jimin wanted to ask about when he woke up. He pulled off his coat and tugged on one of Yoongi’s hoodies, hugging himself in it as Yoongi’s scent drifted into his nostrils from the warm fabric. 

Finally. Fifteen minutes had passed. Jimin entered the bedroom carefully, letting his eyes adjust to the room, even darker than the living room. He found a lamp near a comfy looking bed and flicked it on, looking around. The light was soft, diffused by the heavy shade. In the center of the room was a large, dark coffin. Jimin approached it carefully, his heart in his throat. Inside was Yoongi, looking much paler than usual. He was entirely still, arms resting across his bare belly. He was in his boxers, his cock comically rigid, tenting the front up obscenely. He was stunning. 

Jimin hurried over to the dresser and opened the drawer, finding the lube easily. He shucked his jeans and boxers, crawling onto the bed. He set his sleeping medication on the bedside stand and relaxed into the pillow. It smelled richly of Yoongi’s scent, his cock thickening against his thigh. He moaned softly, stroking himself. He looked over at the coffin, his stomach clenching. This was really happening. He poured some of the lube on his fingers and spread it over his hole, sighing contentedly as he pushed a finger in to prep himself. 

When he was ready, Jimin rose, sliding the lube and his phone into his pocket. He went over to the coffin, taking a moment to gaze down at his beautiful lover. A vampire… He knew he’d likely have a moment of realization down the line – the understanding that this simple confession had flipped his life upside down. But he’d never been one to shy away from the macabre or bizarre, and he always wondered if supernatural creatures existed. Yoongi’s confirmation of that was… Unexpected, but not unwanted. 

Jimin carefully straddled Yoongi’s lap. He knew he couldn’t wake him, but the fear was half the fun. Yoongi was still hard, his position entirely unchanged from the first moment Jimin saw him. Jimin pulled his boxers down just under his balls, smirking when he saw the tip was a deep purple red. He wrapped his hand around it and stroked gently, surprised to find it cool to the touch. Yoongi really was a living dead person. 

A surprising twinge of arousal spiked through Jimin, making him shudder. He wondered if Yoongi could still come in this state. Only one way to find out.

He shifted over, taking the lube from his hoodie with shaking hands and adding some to Yoongi’s cock, and more to his own stretched hole. He moved over and began to settle into Yoongi’s cock, muffling his quiet gasps in his other hand. Yoongi’s cock was so hard it was almost painful. There was none of the give he was used to, forcing his ass open wide to take the tip, and sliding deep into him. He whimpered, shuddering hard when he took his entire length. 

“Yoongi,” he whined softly. Curious, he reached out, touching Yoongi’s pale, cool face. He held his hand by his nose for a moment. Nothing. No movement of air, no shift, nothing. He moaned again, reality slowly sinking in. There was nothing normal or right about this. But God, it felt good. He dropped his hand down, pulling Yoongi’s top lip back. As promised, there they were, sharp fangs, glinting dangerously. Jimin touched one, ever so tempted to prick his finger on it, let Yoongi taste him… But no. Jimin pulled his hand back. That could be discussed at a later time. He settled back on Yoongi’s stiff cock and whimpered. There was no give. He was gonna lose it fast at this rate.

Jimin began to ride him, moaning openly as Yoongi’s cock slid over his prostate. He reached into his hoodie and removed his phone, holding it up. He found his camera app and angled it to show his face first, his cheeks mottled red with arousal. He moaned openly as he pressed record, not bothering to shy away from looking and sounding obscene. 

“Your cock is so hard, Yoongi. You’re gonna break my ass in half, oh!” He shuddered, biting his lip and twisting his hips down. “Fuck, I’ve never had something this hard up my asshole, Yoongi… I’m gonna gape for hours after I’m done with you.”

He whined, his throat clicking as he struggled to swallow. He turned the camera, filming Yoongi’s body before turning it and balancing it behind him, so he could film himself riding Yoongi. He glanced back, smirking when he realized the camera was catching each long stroke, Yoongi’s cock sinking back into his ass. He spread himself and leaned forward, giving more light for the camera. He fucked himself hard and fast onto Yoongi’s cock, moaning and begging for more, not hiding the pleasure he was getting. He reached back and grabbed the phone, holding it up again.

“I’m gonna come, Yoongi,” he whined. “I’m gonna come from using your thick, hard cock, right here in your coffin. Wanna see?”

He turned the camera and lifted the front of the hoodie. His cock was bouncing with each thrust of his body, slapping gently off Yoongi’s still stomach. 

“I’m so glad you slept shirtless,” Jimin panted. “Make me come, Yoongi… Oh God, please… Fuck my ass harder…” He moved faster, whining high in his throat. It shifted to a shout when his cock began to spurt, shooting ropes of come over Yoongi’s hands and belly. He stroked himself, still riding Yoongi’s cock as he milked the last come from himself. He shuddered and giggled, moving the camera behind him as he pulled off Yoongi. He held his ass open, feeling the cool air tickle him far more intimately than it should.

“Look at that gape,” he mumbled. “Too bad it’s not dripping with your come.” He pulled the camera back as he crawled out of the coffin.

“I think I’m gonna leave you like this… Covered in my come, boxers down… Just so you wake up and know what I did to you.” 

He walked back over to the bed in the corner. “Now, Yoongi… I’m gonna leave the lube right there.” He angled the camera to show himself setting it on the nightstand and picking up the sleeping pill. “And I’m gonna take my sleeping medicine.” He angled the camera back to his face to show him swallowing it. 

“Now I’m going to sleep just like this… No shorts… And I would love it, if you want to… To repay the favor and use my ass while I sleep.” He smirked. “I wonder… Is your come as cold your body was when you first come back? You should let me know… I wonder how that feels inside me…” He shook his head. “Sleep well… See you soon.” He ended the video and sent it to Yoongi, forcing himself to stay awake long enough to hear the buzz of Yoongi’s phone in his coffin. He let himself drift off to sleep, dreams full of sexy, arousing thoughts. 

Jimin’s ass was on fire. He moaned softly, opening his eyes blearily. The first thing he saw was the coffin. He turned his head, spotting the clock… Nearly seven hours since he’d gone to sleep. 

“Morning Sunshine,” Yoongi murmured. Jimin turned, spotting him at his desk. A cup of deep red liquid sat next to him as he worked on something. “How’s your ass?”

“Sore,” Jimin mumbled, reaching back. He was met with a gush of body temperature fluids, pouring from his gaped hole. He whined. “Fuck…” His cock throbbed against the mattress. “What did you do?”

“Me? I simply did as you asked in your video… Very sexy, by the way. Would you like to watch?”

Jimin rolled over, groaning weakly. His cock was hard despite the pain in his ass. It was perfect. “Show me,” he whispered.

Yoongi rose and grabbed his phone. He went over to the bed and sat on it with Jimin, passing him the device. 

Yoongi did far less teasing and talking in his video. He set up the phone at an angle on the nightstand, allowing it to capture most of Jimin’s sleeping body. Yoongi slicked his cock, looking into the camera as he sank into Jimin with a moan. He began to thrust into him quickly, holding Jimin’s ass open as he did. He maintained looking at the camera most of the time, his eyes the same black they were when he went to sleep.

As Jimin watched himself get used on the phone, Yoongi pulled him onto his lap. He’d withdrawn his cock, Jimin could feel. He hissed and whined softly when Yoongi dragged him over and slid back into his come lubed hole.

“It’s sore,” he whined.

“You can get off then, I don’t mind,” Yoongi said, letting his hips go. Jimin smirked. He shifted to get a better angle to watch the video and began to bounce lazily on Yoongi’s cock.

On the video, Yoongi had picked up speed, grunting as he fucked Jimin’s sleeping body. He tossed his head back, shouting and baring his teeth.

Jimin moaned, catching sight of Yoongi’s fangs. He touched his own neck, a little disappointed at the lack of bite marks. Yoongi on video shuddered, his hips going still. He leaned forward, kissing Jimin’s shoulder.

“There’s my first load, Jimin. It was as cold as ice… I’ve never felt your hole squeeze me so tight. Next time I’ll do it when you’re awake… I bet you’ll squeal so pretty when it fills you…” 

Jimin moaned, leaning back against Yoongi. “I wanna feel,” he confessed.

“I’ll make sure you’re awake next time,” Yoongi promised. “Wanna see the rest?”

Jimin nodded, riding Yoongi a little faster.

On video, Yoongi picked up the pace, fucking Jimin’s ass harder than before. He used him for nearly forty minutes, filling his hole three times. Finally, he sagged his shoulders, kissing over Jimin’s back. 

“You’re so fucking sloppy, baby,” he grumbled. He grabbed the phone and angled it down. Jimin’s ass was red, his hole swollen around Yoongi’s cock. He pulled out slowly and come bubbled out, obscene sounds filling the air. Yoongi chuckled. “I’ll leave you like this. When you wake up I’ll give you one more, if you want it.”

The video went black. Jimin leaned forward, his ass aching at the new angle. “I want it,” he whispered.

Yoongi shifted, pulling out only long enough to get onto his knees. He sank back into Jimin’s  already filled ass, and they both moaned at the sloppy noises. Jimin leaned up, wrapping his arms back around Yoongi.

“Bite me when you come,” he whispered.

“You sure?” Yoongi was fucking him hard, his cock twitching.

“Yes,” Jimin promised. He reached down, stroking his cock in time with Yoongi’s thrusts. 

Yoongi was huffing erratically, holding tight to his middle. His fangs grazed Jimin’s shoulder. 

“Are you mine?” Yoongi panted in his ear.

“Yes—“

“Give yourself to me.” Yoongi grabbed his wrist, pulling his hand off his cock. “All the way. Are you mine, Jimin?”

“Yes, yes!” Jimin moaned. 

“I’m yours as well, Park Jimin,” Yoongi whispered. He slammed his cock deep. It began to throb, spilling inside Jimin. At the same time, Jimin felt a sharp pain and then a pressure on his shoulder. Pure pleasure washed over him. His cock began to spurt ropes of come, jerking hard enough to make them land on the floor in front of him. He shouted Yoongi’s name, reaching back and holding his neck as Yoongi drank from him. 

The two collapsed on the bed as their orgasms faded. Yoongi kissed and licked at the wound on Jimin’s shoulder until the blood clotted, sliding his softening cock carefully from Jimin’s aching ass.

“You okay?” Yoongi asked, nudging Jimin’s shoulder with his nose as they cuddled back to chest on the bed.

“I’m great,” Jimin whispered.

“No regrets? Still okay with it?”

“Fully… You?”

“It was so exciting,” Yoongi admitted. “When I woke and felt your come on me… And then saw you sleeping… And that video was stunning. You were so beautiful.”

Jimin smiled shyly. “We’ll have to go easy the next few nights… I’m really sore.”

“Of course. I’ll be gentle for a while, let you heal up.” Yoongi kissed over his shoulder. “Did the bite hurt?”

“No. It felt good… How often can you drink from me?”

“I’d prefer not to often. Living human blood, not bagged, it’s… Very rich and sweet, almost like candy. It can become addictive. I’m honored you let me, but I’ll save it as a treat for myself, if you don’t mind?”

“Of course.” Jimin turned as well as he could. His gaze searched Yoongi’s face, finally dropping down to his mouth, lips pink and cheeks mottled. “It was so interesting. Seeing you in your coffin.”

“I know it can be frightening.”

“No…” Jimin shook his head. “I think it sank in… That I was looking at someone who wasn’t alive. But knowing you’d be awake soon after, it was… This bizarre sort of… Taboo but sexy thing? I’m a freak, aren’t I?” Jimin’s shoulders sagged. 

“No more than I.” Yoongi nudged him again. “We can be freaks together.”

Jimin grinned. “Yoongi?” He said softly.

“Hm?”

“I feel gross.”

“Because of what we did?”

“No, silly.” Jimin laughed. “Because your come is gluing my ass and legs together. I need a shower.”

Yoongi laughed brightly, nodding. “Agreed. Let’s get one... It’s almost dinner, you’re probably starved.”

“You aren’t,” Jimin teased, rising slowly. “No, but I could eat. I’ll take you out after the shower.”

They walked together to the bathroom. “How does eating human food work with being a vampire?”

“Same as it works being alive,” Yoongi said, turning on the water. “It’s just empty calories for me – Which is why I never eat much.”

“There’s so much I feel like I have to learn about what you are… How life is for you.” Jimin crossed his arms as he waited for the water to warm. Yoongi straightened up and wrapped his arms around him. Now that Jimin was aware, he could feel that Yoongi was a few degrees cooler, his skin just a bit paler than human. 

“You can ask anything you need. We have time, and I’ll tell you all you want to know.”

“Yoongi…” Jimin leaned against him, hugging him tightly. He could hear Yoongi’s heart, glugging along at a lethargic pace. He smiled softly. “Can I confess something to you?”

“Hm?” Yoongi asked, resting his chin on Jimin’s shoulder. “I think I’ve fallen in love with you,” Jimin whispered. 

Yoongi went still, his heart skipping a little faster. “Jimin… Say that again,” he said.

“I… I’ve fallen in love with you.”

Jimin could feel Yoongi’s lips curve up into a smile against his shoulder. “In nearly sixty years of existence… I have never heard more beautiful words,” Yoongi admitted. “I love you too, Jimin… I feel like I’ll love you forever.”

Jimin pulled back, meeting Yoongi’s gaze. His eyes were back to their normal soft brown. He smiled. “Coming from someone who is immortal… That’s the most beautiful thing I could hear.”

Yoongi leaned forward, kissing Jimin deeply. He pulled him close, and Jimin melted into the touch. Yoongi may have cold skin, may drink blood and die once a week – but Jimin had never felt safer or warmer than he did at that very moment in Yoongi’s arms. 

[legoshi-plz]

How about birthday prompts (Like how they celebrate your birthday and how you celebrate theirs)?

Warning: NSFW-ish themes (Riz and Bill’s part),

All Characters are adults, around mid-20s here. So basically a couple years after college. Except for Gouhin, Oguma, and Gosha who are their canon ages.

Reader is Gender Neutral

Louis:

Your Birthday:

- Mr. MoneyBags here is going to go all out as far as expenses go.

- Fancy Dinner at an elegant restaurant, picks you up in his ridiculous sports car which you’ve rode in a million times but it’s still exciting. (Also, Louis drives extremely fast. He’s a good driver but if he’s not going at least 30 miles over the speed limit, he feels like he might as well be parked in the street. Also has a bad habit of running red lights and stop signs just because he can.)

- Buys you a brand new outfit just to wear to dinner and has it delivered to you in the morning in a red velvet box with a silk bow. You’re a little uncomfortable with the whole high society scene but you go along with it anyway for Louis’ sake.

- At dinner, he orders for you. He has a bad habit of doing that, even though you’ve told him multiple times you’re capable of making your own decisions. At least he usually orders you something you end up liking.

- Night concludes back at his place, he pulls out another velvet box similar to one from this morning except this box is much smaller which only meant one thing: jewelry.

- “Louis... Are there diamonds in this?”

- “....”

-“Louis...”

-“.... Maybe...”

- You refuse to accept the overly expensive gift, refuse to even look at it. You give it back to him and you could see he’s a little hurt but you assure him you know he means well but everything was just a little too much and you felt out of place.

- He accepts your criticism gracefully even if he is a little frustrated you wouldn’t accept his gift he spent so much time picking out. He promises to tone it down next year.

His Birthday:

- You actually really hate Louis’ birthday because he almost never spends it with you.

- He always works on his birthday, not seeing it as important enough to halt business.

- You’ve tried everything from bribing his assistant to haggling his bodyguards but nobody can get Louis out of his office in his birthday.

- You’ve learned to let it go, and usually surprise him by doing something special the week before.

Legoshi:

Your Birthday:

- All about being sweet. Values time and effort over anything and hopes that you see it that way too.

- Makes you breakfast in bed, he’s a pretty good cook all things considering (it’s a skill he picked up while being a waiter.)

- Takes you out for lunch, the two of you spend the day doing pretty regular couple stuff but you’re just happy to be there with him.

- Your present is something that’s both useful and to your taste, like along the lines of a sweater or cardigan in your favorite color. He makes sure it’s oversized because he knows how much you love to wear his sweaters and he even has your name embroidered in small cursive letters above the heart.

- You love your gift and how the two of you spent the day.

His Birthday:

- You two spend it almost identically, just with he roles reversed.

-Legoshi is still a little uncomfortable with extra attention so if you want to incorporate his friends into anything then you’ll have to be really stealthy about it.

- No surprise parties please, he literally would melt into the floor with embarrassment. Best to take him somewhere and his friends slowly join in organically (or at least, you hoped it came off as organic but it really didn’t)

- “Hey Legoshi, fancy seeing you two here at this restaurant in this reserved section. Mind if I join ya?” By the tenth time that exact excuse was used, the cat was well out of the bag.

- Legoshi appreciates your efforts though, even if he’s not one for attention. He sort of clings to you the entire night, whether it be holding your hand, gripping your thigh, encircling your waist, etc. as long as he’s touching you, he feels calmer and it helps tone down his anxiety.

- Overall, Legoshi’s the type to be fine with almost any birthday celebration (or even none at all) as long as he can be with you.

Juno:

Your Birthday:

- Makes you do something spontaneous for once, even if you’re hesitant.

- Takes you somewhere like Skydiving, or Paragliding, or Bungee Jumping. If you’re adamant about making it to your next birthday not risking your life then she will settle for something a little more mild like Scuba Diving.

- Can not stop gushing about how hot you look in your wetsuit and flusters you in front of the Scuba instructor (he’s an older Walrus and finds it cute to see young animals in love).

- The two of you end up having a blast and you’re happy you went along with Juno’s plan, even if it tired you out completely.

- Once the two of you get home and shower, you collapse onto the bed and fall asleep almost immediately, the exhaustion from the deep diving really taking it’s toll.

- Juno enters the bedroom holding a cake with lit candles and wearing brand new sexy lingerie she purchased just for you to rip off of her. She’s a little disappointed to find you unconscious but she figures it is your birthday and you can sleep if you want to.

- She blows out the candles for you and puts the cake in the kitchen, then she throws on a robe and snuggles up next your slumbering figure.

Her Birthday:

- She wants to travel for her birthday and she can’t think of anyone she’d rather take a trip with more than you.

- You two go somewhere hot and tropical, probably somewhere near a beach (she loves any excuse to wear a bikini and sunbathe)

- You two probably find a bar near the beach and get drunk, her moreso then you because you start to sober up as the night goes on so you’re able to take care of her.

- You take her back to the hotel and tuck her in after helping her get ready for bed. She a giggling, flirty drunk mess the entire time but it still makes your heart soar because you know she had fun.

- Before she falls asleep, she whispers to you that this was her favorite birthday yet.

Riz:

Your Birthday:

- He’s waking you up with morning head, no way around it. You wake up to him kissing your neck, then your collarbone, down your stomach and he just keeps going down until he has you whimpering and falling apart beneath him.

- Then the two of you take a shower together and he’s making you cum for him in a totally different way.

- But once you finally pry his humongous paws off of you, you think you’ll be able to relax but he has other plans.

- He sends you off to the Spa. He’s not going in with you because he wouldn’t be caught dead in one but buys you the best top of the line experience . You enjoy the peace and relaxation but you’re kind of lonely and just want to be with him.

- When you get home, he presents your gift to you which is probably something big and wooden that he made himself because he’s great with his hands and actually an amazing craftsman. Probably something like a intricate Wooden Gazebo outside so you could sit and enjoy your garden.

- “Riz, how the hell did you get this back here without me knowing?” You ask, your arms still wrapped around his neck from where you squealed in excitement, lavishing him with kisses.

- “Built it off site, just needed a few hours to install it,” Riz winked, cupping your ass with both hands and lifting you up so your legs could wrap around his waist.

- “So that’s why you made me spend my birthday alone?” You pouted.

- “Yeah, m’sorry about that, baby. But I can make it up to you...” Riz growled, carrying you inside to the bedroom.

“Wait, I wasn’t done looking at my gift,” you giggled as he began nipping at the fur at the base of your neck.

“Trust me, it’s not going anywhere,”

His Birthday:

- Riz loves nature and outside in general. So for his birthday you plan a camping trip deep in the forest.

- You don’t tell him anything about it, you just make him request two days off of work, no questions asked.

- You two leave early in the morning, drive deep into the forest and then you spring it on him. You also let him know that if he doesn’t like the idea, theres still time to turn back and spend his birthday in the city.

- Not a chance if that happening though, this man LOVES the outdoors. He’s already halfway out the car before you could even put it in park.

- The two of you have a blast setting up the tent, making the campfire, cooking dinner over said campfire, and communing with nature.

- “There’s a river that runs north of here, it’s about a 15 minute walk from here, I figured we could go fishing there tomorrow morning,” You tell him as you sit in his lap, admiring the fire.

- However, the two of you don’t make it there until we’ll into the afternoon and it was a miracle you made it there at all. Riz had fucked you senseless last night, the atmosphere of nature giving him a newfound surge of energy. It’s a good thing no one was around because the two of you were almost embarrassingly loud.

- Anyways, Riz thoroughly enjoys his weekend of wilderness and fucking you like a wild animal all throughout the forest. You enjoy it as well despite the fact he has you almost limping by the end of the trip.

Bill:

Your Birthday:

- Honestly, he forgets. If you wait on him to remember or ‘surprise you’, then you’ll only end up ruining your own birthday.

- If you remind him on the day of, he takes you out to eat at a nice restaurant but it’s still very last minute.

- If you remind him the day before, he’ll at least get you a gift but it’s last minute.

- Overall, if you want to actually enjoy your birthday with him, you better plan it yourself

His Birthday:

- Plans an entire house party himself and invites everyone, it seems, but you. He wasn’t exactly aiming to exclude you, he just thought it’d be a given that you would be there. However, if you didn’t show up, he wouldn’t really notice either way.

- It’s wild and crazy. A ridiculously huge amount of people show up and there’s alcohol coming from every direction, and Bill is soaking up every ounce of the attention.

- Once you finally had enough of being ignored, you go home. You doubt that Bill will even notice you’ve left.

- You’re at home, showered, and about to head to bed when your phone starts ringing. It’s an unknown number so you let it ring out. But then they call back again, and again, and again. Disturbed, you accept it on the fourth call just in case it’s an emergency.

- “Finally they picked up! Y/N? You there?” It was one of Bill’s friends. Apparently in his drunken state, he went into a rage when he couldn’t find you and had been crying for you to come back for almost an hour. He was inconsolable and his friends knew there was only a matter of time before he started a fight at his own party. You were irritated but you still allowed them to drop him off at your place.

- The second you answered your front door, the giant tiger in question was all over you, squeezing you right and asking why you left him. You helped him inside and laid him in your bed.

- He cuddled with you for maybe 10 minutes tops before he was out like a light. You end up falling asleep next to him, finally enjoying a little peace for once tonight.

- That peace doesn’t last long though, Bill wakes up the next morning horny. Like extremely horny. You wake up to him grinding against your thighs, whimpering and begging to let him fuck you. You give in to the belated birthday boy and he proceeds to give you the sloppiest, most sensual, earth-shattering morning strokes of your life. You’re so mind blown by how good he fucked you, you forget about how angry you were with him.

- After a well needed shower, he takes you out for breakfast to apologize for how much of an ass he was on his birthday. You accept but tell him if he ever pulls something like that again, he can look for a new lover.

Collot:

Your Birthday:

- Surprisingly wants to spoil you on your birthday but unlike Riz, he actually minds being apart from you (he’s hella clingy, he just hates to admit it) so whatever activities he has planned, the two of you are doing it together.

- Takes you to a fancy resort, somewhere in the mountains where it’s cold and there’s snow on the ground even during the summer months.

- The two of you attempt skiing but you’re terrible at it and he ends up laughing at you falling majority of it.

- You two also enjoy the giant jacuzzi the lounge has to offer but Collot can not keep his hands off of you and eventually you two have to run back to your room for a midday quickie.

- His birthday gift to you is something simple, like a necklace with your birthstone in it. You love it and allow him to put it on you.

- The rest of the evening, it’s just you and your man, walking along the Snow filled grounds, sipping warm apple cider, and enjoying the break from the rest of the world.

Gouhin:

His Birthday:

- This man wants REST. No need to go all out, his life is crazy enough the other 365 days of the year. Just give him some peace and relaxation and he’s good to go.

- He also loves your cooking and wouldn’t be opposed to you cooking him a huge meal.

- Also loves your body and wouldn’t be opposed to you doing that thing that he really likes in bed ;)

- Your gift to him would be something he can use but also is a little unnecessary. Something like a ridiculously fancy, golden calligraphy pen for his office or a brand new crossbow with genuine leather straps. He’s pretty hard to shop for so it’s always best to go with something he already has, just a newer model.

- Honestly just wants to spend his birthday with his baby (you) as if it’s any other day.

Gosha:

Your Birthday:

- Gosha is so lovable, he’s probably more excited it’s your birthday than you are.

- He’s picked up quite a few skills over the years and baking is one of them. Bakes you a giant birthday cake in your favorite flavor. You’re grateful he was so thoughtful and made such an extravagant cake but there’s no way you’re going to finish this entire thing.

- You end up inviting over friends just to get rid of some of the cake, which they’re more than happy to do since it’s absolutely delicious.

- A few of your friends bring group dishes and fancy wine and soon it’s a whole party underway. The small gathering is actually a blast and you can’t think of a better way to spend your birthday other than surrounded by the people you love.

Oguma:

Your Birthday:

- Mr. Moneybags 2.0

- Gets you a crazy expensive gift like a brand new car and calls it a day.

- Not really much for spending time or celebrating traditionally. But to compensate, he’ll buy you the world (even after you’ve repeatedly told him you don’t need all that.)

- Probably won’t even see you on your birthday because his schedule is so overbooked but sends you plenty of gifts to remind you that he loves you.

- It stings not seeing him on your birthday but at this point in the relationship, you don’t really expect anything else from him.