#and some guy was so agonised by this

[nishaapologist]

i'm levelling up my first fallout 76 character who i've had since the beta to finally hit level 50 (i stopped playing her, and the game, at level 41 until my valiant return december of last year) and my god is she a time capsule of the meta back then. her camp is entirely wooden. no decorations. no gun specialisations because back then ammo was so scarce guns were useless. no resource generators. no lunchboxes. no nothing. completely bereft. i'm leaving her first camp untouched as a museum.

[professional-termite]

im so cooking with this chapter. ness is flirting because thats just how the convo seems to be going (autistic man with no social skills just going with the flow) and mike is stuttering and being unable to string together a coherent sentence and somehow still accidentally hitting on ness (loser autistic man cannot have a normal conversation to save his life)

[hjijp]

where they like to have sex

pairing. nct dream x f!reader // genre. smut, established relationship // warnings. public sex, swearing, pet names??18+ minors dni not proofread, so sorry if there’s any mistakes and shit😭

mark :

backstage

mark always looked ethereal at concerts, especially when he came backstage to do an outfit change, sweat glistening on his face, his lips parted as he was trying to catch his breath. you always came to support him, patiently waiting backstage for him ready to compliment him. when he walked towards you unbuttoning his shirt, you couldn’t help but stare. you knew it was inappropriate to want him around so many people, but you guys had a few minutes to spare. he caught you staring, he knew that look in your eye all too well. he sighs, “if you keep looking at me like that, i'm not responsible for what happens next,” finally in front of you, you start to play with his belt, pulling him closer by the belt loops, hands instantly going to his zipper. he goes to stop you, “not here babe,” grabbing your hand dragging you off to an unoccupied room, instantly locking it. he starts to passionately kiss you, teeth clashing together, his hands going into your panties. “shit, you’re already wet and i haven’t even touched you yet,” mark chuckles before inserting a finger into you, making you moan out loudly. “this is the first and last time we do this, okay?” it in fact, wasn’t the last time you guys did this.

renjun :

the kitchen

renjun had been sick the past few days and he’s only finally started to feel better. you had been making him soup with his mothers recipe to make him feel better, and you were making it again today. renjun woke up to the smell of it, instantly bringing a smile to his face as he made his way towards the kitchen. sneaking his way up to you, he takes you by surprise when he circles his arms around your waist from behind. he laughs at your surprised yelp, taking in the smell of the fresh soup. “thank you for making me food constantly for the past few days,” you couldn’t help the smile that framed your face, it was never an issue, you loved to cook for him. “of course, i love to cook for you,” you say turning around to finally see his beautiful face, circling your arms around his neck, bringing him in close for a sweet kiss. you try to pull away but renjun just pulls you in closer. you finally break free after a few minutes, renjun has started to caress every inch of your body. slowly making his way to his knees, pulling your pants down so he’s face to face with the wet patch that formed just from some kisses. “how about i show you how much i appreciate it?” he says kissing your inner thighs. if he could, he would show you everyday.

jeno :

the car

you were, and always will be jeno's passenger princess. he didn't mind, in fact he loved it. he loved watching you staring out into the beautiful night sky whenever he stopped at a red light, gently placing his hand on your thigh, tracing light patterns along your exposed skin. jeno didn’t even realise the red light turned green, he was so distracted by your beauty, wanting nothing more than to show you just how much he thought you were that he wasn’t paying attention. “what are you staring at? the lights green,” you say between little giggles at the way he was staring at you. jeno finally starts driving again, hand returning to your thigh after he changes gear. “you just look really beautiful, like really really beautiful,” you blush, head going down to try hide it, but he still catches a glimpse of it from the corner of his eye. he starts to inch his hand up further and further, teasing you with each movement. you couldn’t help the whine that left you, you’ve needed him all day. “spread your legs for me baby, that’s it,” he says, you instantly do as your told. he starts to rub slow agonising circles when all of a sudden he stops. “shit, you’re not wearing any panties under your shorts, are you?” he asks breathless, you giggle at his reaction. jeno instantly pulls over, “get in the back and strip now”

haechan :

the beach

you loved going to the beach with haechan on sunny days, mainly because haechan glowed just like the sun, they were like twins in a way, always lighting up people’s lives. you two were relaxing on a private part of the beach, sunglasses on soaking up the sun on your towels. you’re on your back, bikini top straps pulled down to avoid any unwanted tan lines around your chest. haechan glances over and wishes he wasn’t at the beach so he tear the skimpy thing off. he’d been whiny all day about what you were wearing, it was his favourite after all. you looked gorgeous, he couldn’t help how he was feeling when you looked this good. you could tell how he was feeling. pushing yourself off the ground, you make your way over to haechan and sit on his lap. “what’s wrong?” you mutter out, playing with his soft hair. he hesitates to reply, but with an encouraging look from you he finally speaks up, "shit, if we weren't in public right now i'd have my head between your legs,” letting out a groan as you start to grind down on him to create some friction, “who says you can’t? there’s no one around,” you let out with a smirk on your face. haechan gets even harder before mumbling out a soft fuck before flipping you onto your back on the sand.

jaemin :

the shower

jaemin always insisted that you join him on his bike rides, you loved that he invited you, you really did, but you can’t keep up. so by the end of these bike rides, you were exhausted. jaemin felt bad, but he just wanted to spend time with you. after every bike ride, he’d shower with you, helping you wash off any dirt and sweat you had on your body. even though it sometimes turned him on, seeing you all soapy, looking beautiful as ever in the shower with him that he’d only ever get to see, he never went further knowing how tired you were. but today was different. he was standing behind you when he pulled you closer, hands going to cup your breasts. “you have no idea how much i want you,” he whispered against your ear, water still running down against you both. you went to say something but he interrupted you, “let me do all of the work. let me take care of you,” you couldn’t help but agree, letting yourself relax against him. he gently turned your head, locking your lips in a heated kiss leaving you breathless. the kiss turned rough, and jaemin was getting needier. he pushed you against the wet tiles, getting on his knees putting one of your legs over his shoulder, “i need to taste you.”

chenle :

pool/hot tub

chenle loved to have you over at his house, even more so now that he finally got a hot tub. he got to see you in your beautiful bikinis that left little to imagination, and it was all for him. you guys were once again in his hot tub, champagne glasses in your hand with soft words spoken between you two. chenle thought you looked beautiful. no makeup, hair tied up wearing a bikini that framed you perfectly. he couldn’t help but stare, already getting hard just from the mere sight of you. “come here,” he spoke out more quietly than he intended to, while patting his thigh to encourage you. once you were sat on his lap, he carefully placed his glass on the side of the tub before placing his hands on your waist, pulling you down so you can feel his erection. letting out a soft gasp at the feeling, already so overwhelmed. “all i could think about today was you,” he muttered in your ear, hands still on your waist. “yeah? well you have me, you can do whatever you’d like,” you whispered back seductively, needing him to hurry up and fuck you. he smirks at your reply, flipping you so your leaning against the side of the tub, legs spread waiting for him. “looks like i best get to work”

jisung :

dance practise room

you were always going to the practise room when he was there, even late at night. he loved to dance and you loved to watch him, it was a win-win situation. you often went over when you were feeling needy, fed up of waiting for him to finally return back to your house. he was nervous the first time you guys did it here, but now he loves it. it was one of those nights again, jisung had been at the company building for hours now, you needed him desperately. jisung heard you open the door which caused him to pause the music, confused at to why you’re here so late, normally you’re asleep by now. but when he saw the look on your face he instantly knew why. pinning you against the mirror wall, kissing down your neck harshly. “can you be good for me? we don’t want people hearing now do we?” you could only nod in reply, the desperation for him even higher than before. he tuts at the lack of response and roughly grabs your hair and pulls your head back to get a better view of ur face, “use your words,” you can’t help but moan and let out a few rushed “yes” needing him badly. he smirks at your neediness before demanding “on your knees”

[wcnderlnds]

shutup | peter maximoff

・❥・ summary: peter cant stand you, you cant stand him so obviously you end up trapped in a closet together ・❥・word count: 1.9k ・❥・warnings: smut! 18+. unprotected p in v, slight choking, swearing, confined space. ・❥・ authors note: it’s badly written smut i’m so sorry

Friday nights at the mansion were usually quiet. After a hard week of training and missions it was usually the time everyone took to wind down and take some time for themselves. This week, however, Jean had suggested the team hang out and play a game of spin the bottle. Anyone the bottle landed on had to go have seven minutes in heaven with that person.If it was up to you, you would’ve avoided it all together but since everyone else was there, you would be too. There was no way you were missing out and listening to everyone talking about it the next day.

That was how you found yourself sat cross legged between Scott and Kurt. Drinks had been flowing, empty red solo cups scattered across the floor. It was now your turn to spin the bottle. Reluctantly, you grabbed it giving it a quick turn and watching in anticipation. There was only one person you didn’t want it to land on. Peter Maximoff.

You couldn’t stand him and he couldn’t stand you. It had always been that way since the moment you met. Quips were thrown at each other, insults (playful yet still annoying) tossed back and forth — it was the normal for you. Peter irritated you no matter what he did. Sure, he was attractive and he did have some redeeming qualities but there was something about him that programmed your brain to want to bother him any time you saw him.

So, of course the bottle had landed on him. Protests came from both of you but the others weren’t having it. They had to practically shove you into the closet. Seven minutes in heaven? More like seven minutes in hell. The whole time was spent with you and Peter bugging the shit out of each other. The second the seven minutes were up, Peter grabbed for the door.

Only, it didn’t open.

“You’re kidding me?!” Peter’s palm smacked hard against the wooden closet door. No matter how much he tried to pull the handle or push the door, it woudn’t budge. It was like his worst nightmare come to life. What awful things had he done in his life to be stuck in a goddamn store room closet with you of all people? Maybe this was some stupid prank the guys were pulling on him. “Scott, you better not be fuckin’ with me or I swear.”

“We can’t get it open,” Scott’s muffled voice could be heard from the other side. “Just hang tight and we’ll find help.”

Peter groaned, hitting his forehead against the door in frustration. He needed them to be quick. Not only was he stuck in here with the person he couldn’t stand but Peter wasn’t someone that could handle normal time. He ran on his own Peter time — the world going too slowly for him. Usually he was going a mile a minute. Being still was not something he could do. The wait would be agonising.

”You’re so dramatic,” you rolled her eyes, arms folded across your chest which coincidentally ended up pushing your boobs up higher. Peter couldn’t help but glance at your cleavage. He was but a man. As much as he despised you, he couldn’t deny you had a ‘totally banging body’ as he’d once put it to Kurt.

With a scoff his eyes landed back on your face. “You’re annoying.”

“So are you.”

“You’re more annoying.”

“Your face is annoying.”

“Real mature,” you fought the urge to give him the middle finger. Instead, you backed up against the small metal shelving unit to try and put as much space in between you and Peter but it was pointless. There was barely any space to begin with — the store cupboard a simple small room with a shelving unit and some cleaning equipment stacked up against the wall.

“I’d rather get my leg broke by Apocalupse again than be stuck here with you. Or, hell, I’d rather go tell Magneto he’s my dad. Maybe even get hit by a truck or have no fingers so I could never play Pac Man again. All of that would be less tortuous and less painful than being stuck in here with you,” Peter groaned, his head thrown back against the wall he was leaning again. His Adam’s apple bobbing, giving you the perfect view of his neck. If this was some alternate reality, you’d probably take this chance to make out with him, pressing wet kisses along the nape of his pretty little neck. But, alas, you were in this reality — the one where you couldn’t stand the annoyingly handsome speedster. Rather unfortunately really because he was nice to look at. Just a shame he was a pain in the ass.

“Yeah? Well, it’s not a picnic for me either, stuck here with you, Pietro.” If there was one thing about Peter it was that he despised anyone but his mom calling him his proper name. It was a sure fire way to get under his skin. By the way Peter’s cheeks flamed red, you knew it had worked.

“Don’t call me that,” he clenched his jaw, fingers tapping against his thigh — the irritation and impatience at being stuck in the small confined space more than evident.

“Why not, Pietro?” You fluttered your eyelashes with a mocking tone. Sarcastic, even.

“Stop.”

“Pietro. Pietro. Pi-“ Before you could register what was happening, Peter’s lips were crashing into yours in a clash of frustration. With wide eyes, you pushed his shoulders to get his damn lips off you. “What are you doing?!”

“I need you to shut up and stay shut up.” His lips were back on yours in an instant. His lips were warm — tasting of bubblegum and the twinkie he’d just been eating before the two of you had been pushed into the dimly lit room. There was barely any time to register his tongue pushing into your mouth. Your lips parted, meeting his tongue with your own, the two of you both fighting for control. It was messy, it was rough but you weren’t complaining. Peter’s trailed along your jawline down to your neck. He bit down, sucking the skin to leave a red mark he knew would turn into a hickey in no time at all. Was he doing it out of spite so you’d have to explain to everyone how you got it? Absolutely. “You’re annoying but, ugh, you’re so fucking hot.”

His hands slid down to the curve of your ass, fingers digging into the flesh there, his lips finding yours again. Peter’s body was flush against yours. He could feel your breasts against his chest and he was now regretted that he hadn’t took your shirt off. His hips slowly started to grind against yours — his bulge rubbing directly against your clothed core. He gave your ass a squeeze as you mumbled cheekily against his lips. “I’d say the same but….”

Peter narrowed his eyes and in a blink of an eye his hand was up your skirt pushing your panties to the side. His expert fingers exploring between your folds. You were already so damn wet, he could feel you coating his fingers. “Yeah, well, this says different.”

“Whatever.” You rolled your eyes, biting back the soft gasp that was threatening to spill when he pushed two of his fingers easily inside you. He wasted no time at all pumping them at an unforgiving pace. Your plush walls felt like heaven against his fingers. So tight. He couldn’t wait to bury himself inside you — something he’d thought about many times but that was a secret he’d keep to himself. There was nothing gentle about this. His fingers curled inside you, trying desperately to get that moan to fall from your lips. He succeed, the sound going straight to his dick. The shit eating grin on his face made you want to slap him. “Don’t get too cocky.”

Peter pulled his fingers from you manoeuvring you so your ass was pressed against him. It was no secret what was about to happen so you reached your hands out to grab onto the shelf for support in anticipation. Peter leaned over, his voice rough as he spoke into your ear.“Pretty sure I said I wanted you to shut up.”

“Make me then,” you challenged as you rubbed your ass against him, the most delicious groan filling your ears. Without looking back you could hear the familiar sound of a zip been undone and Peter hissing as the cool air hit his length. “For someone who’s name is Quicksilver, you sure are slow.”

That’d do it. Without even a warning Peter thrust his cock into you, filling you to the hilt. A loud moan passed your lips causing Peter to reach his hand around to cover your mouth. “Shutup! We don’t need anyone hearing us.”

He set an unrelenting pace, pounding into you with determination. The fingers on his free hand dug into your hips, holding you in place as he fucked you. His cock was hitting every sweet spot. It was hard not to cry out especially when Peter hit you with a particularly hard thrust, stilling inside you. To tease you, he stayed buried and ground against you. Every inch was inside you and you could feel it all. The sensation of feeling so full making you squirm. “You gonna be quiet?”

You nodded your head desperately. You needed him to move. At this point you didn’t care how pathetic you looked. Seemingly happy, Peter pulled out then rammed himself back into you. He leaned over your body, his hand lightly wrapping around your neck to pull your back flush against him as he continued to move into you hard and fast. Your hands tightly gripped the metal of the shelves, the cool metallic digging into your skin but it gave Peter enough support to trail his other hand round your body giving one of your tits a squeeze through your shirt. Unfortunate that he didn’t get a proper look at them.

“You’re so much nicer when you’re quiet,” he grunted, the sounds of skin slapping against skin filling the small cupboard.

“Bite me, Maximoff.” So, he did, softly biting down on your shoulder, the hand around your neck squeezing just a little. “Fuck.”

Peter could tell you were close. He could feel your walls fluttering around him, your body trembling with the effort of staying upright. His release was so close.

His hand slid down from your neck, rubbing tight circles against your clit and that was your undoing. Before the loud moan could escape, Peter brought his over hand over your mouth to muffle the cries as your pussy clamped down around him. With one final brutal thrust, he buried himself inside you, burying his own moan in your neck.

All was quiet beside the panting as you both caught your breath back until the door handle started to jiggle like someone was trying to open it.

“Oh shit “ Peter pulled out of you lightning fast, tucking himself back in his pants just in time because the door opened revealing Scott. “About time.”

“Sorry! At least you didn’t kill each other,” Scott’s eyes darted between the both of you. Nervously, you smoothed your skirt out hoping he didn’t see your flushed cheeks. Peter’s hair was a ruffled mess but he didn’t seem to care about anything other than getting out of there.

“Yeah, yeah. Anyway, gotta run,” he turned back to you with a knowing smirk. “Glad I finally figured out how to shut you up.”

Before you could say anything, he was gone in a blur of silver. “I hate you!” You called out anyway just to feel better.

Because, even if he had just given you one of the best fucks of your life, you really did despise him and nothing would change that.

taglist (ask to be added or removed): @xmidnight-rain @jazz-berry @lemoniiiiiii @juliamaximoff @honeymoon8 @lacucarachapisser @evanpetersbf

[adventures-in-mangaland]

Dead Boy Detectives Fic Recs Part 7

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6

So I hear there's been some fandom drama? Guess it's time for another fic rec list! This fandom is so lovely, so let's focus on the positive and give all the love to our writers and artists. You guys are so talented. ♥️

Work It Harder, Make it Better by dear_monday, two_ravens

Olympics AU! And kind of Sk8er Boi? Charles is an Olympic skateboarder at the end of his competitive career and Edwin is a rising star in the world of dressage. They fall in love at Paris 2024. Amazing writing, as always, and I also enjoyed Niko and Crystal as members of the skateboarding and equestrian teams having their own Olympics Romance and Jenny as Charles' world-weary coach.

Twin Flame by Leandra

Another "He was a punk, he did ballet" romance! This time, everyone is alive and the boys meet when Charles watches Edwin perform at his little sister's ballet recital. The romance and Charles as a big brother are very sweet, which is great as this fic also covers some heavy themes. It's set in the 90s so there's discussion of homophobia, the AIDs crisis and Charles' canon child abuse. Suffice to say, his bisexual awakening is quite fraught. Recommended!

Love for Hire by lucrow

Edwin hires Charles to freak out his parents with his obnoxious fake boyfriend. What could possible haaappeeen? And yes, it's a ballet/punk romance too. 😅 Anyway, it's giving fantastic banter, lots of emotions and great use of trope! I also enjoyed Edwin's relationship with his mum in this fic, excellent parental feels.

so I try to talk refined by shadowquill17

Charles finds out about the Cat King taking on his appearance and (somehow) arrives at the conclusion that Edwin isn't attracted to him. Charles having body image as well as chronic self-esteem issues was interesting but kind of heartbreaking. Read it for Edwin's agonised attempts to verbalise his sexual attraction to Charles without exploding. That's love right there.

A Royal Pain(e) (series) by handwrittenhello

Royalty AU! I love a bodyguard romance from time to time and this one is lovely. Lots of yearning.

Turnabout's Fair Play by Like MmmCookies

Edwin enlists Niko and Crystal to teach him how to flirt with Charles. It starts off cute and awkward and ends up Master Of All He Surveys, which is very Edwin.

I will love you (I really love you) by ghostinthelibrary

Charles has a feelings realization and tries to confess to Edwin. Repeatedly. From a cock-blocking enchanted statue to a Hellhound, it's farcical and fun. This fic has been living in my head rent free for months.

seasons of mists by laiqualaurelote

Edwin hires Charles to be the barista in his book shop's cafe. Two cosy AUs in one! And it even comes (appropriately) with its own reading list and fanart! Very cute, excellent autumnal vibes and a superb imaginary book shop. I'm genuinely so devastated it's not a real place. 😭

Ariadne's Thread by hobbitsdoitbetter

In which Edwin is demisexual and trying to make it work with Charles. Love to see some ace spectrum representation!

you know the problem with history (it keeps coming back like weeds) by aletterinthenameofsanity

Amnesia AU! And kind of Secret Relationship? Edwin has Not So Temporary Amnesia that made him forget a whole romantic relationship with Charles early in their partnership. And Charles never told him... Surely this will have no impact on the events of canon?? 😬 I loved this twist on the trope!

scraped to the marrow by Anonymous

Edwin learned black magic in Hell and kind of went to the Dark Side. I love the trope of "Everyone thinks Character avoids violence because they're scared/weak/nice/bad at it, but actually they're a bit too good at it" and this fic does it well. I love regular Edwin, but Lord Bone was also pretty cool.

To Walk Back Into Hell by Asidian

Charles goes to Hell in Edwin's place, so naturally Edwin needs to find a way to rescue him! Interesting Hell lore and I loved all the Charles love in this.

It does not stop by williamvapespeare

Now he's safe from Hell, Edwin finally works through his PTSD. Emotional, but peak Emotional Support Charles for the win!

signed, sealed, delivered by sulfuric

Outsider PoV of the boys and the agency through the years from the perspective of the Ghost Postman. He's kind of underrated as a side character, but there are so many Implications about the Dead Letter Office, so I enjoyed the worldbuilding. And the supernatural community of London gossiping about/shipping the boys (they're just like us, for real). Love that trope.

not so secret by lola_prongs

Social Media/Celebrity AU! In which they're both actors and Charles relentlessly thirsts after Edwin on Twitter. Great use of social media/epistolary storytelling.

Like a record, baby by singtome

Another celebrity/social media AU, but this time Charles and Crystal are budding rock stars and Edwin is their manager. Also Edwin goes viral as the mysterious #HotGuyatUnity after his picture's taken at an event and Charles *tries* to set the record straight. This one's funny, generous with the yearning and UST and is part of a series that also touches on the darker side of the music industry/celebrity, which I appreciated. And it also has this excellent visual representation of the online drama.

@ghostinthelibrarywrites @tumblerislovetumblerislife @shadowquill17 @neurodivergent-fangirling @whatthehorsedoicallthisblog @shazziez @many-gay-magpies @extremely-eager-reader @atariakana @guardianspirits13 @colourmornings @herebehunters @avoiceofnerat @littlepocketuniverse @overlord-of-chaos @fairandfatalasfair @handwrittenhello @every-moment-a-different-sound @williamvapespeare @laiqualaurelote @dear-monday @dear-lucrow @aletterinthenameofsanity @likemmmcookies @bibliomancer7 @c-rowland @nobledragonflying @hobbitsdoitbetter

I've tagged some people again. Let me know if you'd like to be added to the tag list!

[bluetimeombre]

✧˚ · . 𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐲 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐦𝐞, 𝐈 𝐝𝐨𝐧’𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐭𝐨 𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐞,

✧˚ What if Logan had a nightmare about your death and swore that he would never let anything happen to you. But what if, him trying to save you is what gets you killed in the first place?

(I’m back!! Trust me to find a hot guy to obsess over and immediately get to writing. Yes, I’m on the X-men, Logan, Wolverine band wagon and honestly, couldn’t be happier to be here. Binged all the movies, have read all the smut (and don’t tempt me, I want to write my own) but for now enjoy this pure ANGST. Also this is low-key inspired by when Anakin dreams of Padme dying)

Warning/ disclaimer: angst, death, grief, sexual innuendos made, made up scenario, Evil Jean and sad Rogue and very sad Logan. Angst. Not proof read.

You- unlike many if your unfortunate mutant friends- rarely had to deal with nightmares plaguing your peace. Once the moon came out and all the children were safe and tucked away, you took yourself to bed, maybe read a book or a theory Charles wanted your opinion on. On the rare occasion you'd go to the kitchen, see Jean or Scott up after a particularly bad dream.

It was even more rare for you to hear yelling down the corridor. But when you did, you recognised it immediately.

'No!' They yelled out and you shot up in bed, heart racing as if it was your horror you'd woken from.

'No! Not her, please...'

You pushed back your covers and rushed out as the screaming became louder and agonising. Students were already peeking their heads through their doors, or lingering in the doorways. Everyone knew that when he had nightmares, somebody else usually paid off it. 'Back to bed everyone,' you tell them all, trying to keep some composure whilst only in your night gown. You cleared your throat and shooed them all away. 'Nothing go see here.'

You stood in front of his door, blocking students from the door and waiting until they all disappeared back into their rooms.

From inside, you could hear him tossing and turning, claws sheathing and unsheathing. He called your name, more so cried it.

You rushed inside and locked the door behind you, creeping in.

Logan was bare chested (and dare you suggest, completely naked if it weren't for he covers pooling around his waist). He tossed and thrashed his arms out. The sheets were already torn up, blood marking them from where he must have cut himself.

With everything he'd endured it wasn't unlike him to wake up screaming, but in such pain and your name was new.

'Logan!' You crept closer, settling on the edge of his bed. You knew the risk as you watched his claws gleam in the moonlight. 'Logan, wake up!'

He tossed, face contorted in pain. 'Y/N!' He screamed.

As his hand wiped out, you grabbed his wrist before he could accidentally strike you. This seemed to alert him as he shot up, his other fist coming for you.

You stopped him again, with your powers that you'd never been more thankful for.

Logan's eyes cleared from their haze as he slowly realised it was you. His breath moved with his deep and ragged breaths as he stared, taking every part of you in. His eyes searched, as if he couldn't believe you were in front of him.

You gulped, dreading to think what he must have seen.

'Y/n,' he sighed. His claws drew back into his knuckles and he winced. You were reminded how it hurt for him, every time. So it hurt to see him hurt. It always had.

It was an old and tumultuous relationship the two of you shared. Way before he joined the X-Men. The two of you met out of order, always one knowing more about the other. Still, there was no word for what the two of you meant to each other. You didn't need a word. Everyone knew, they just decided to call it different things:

A fling. Love at first sight. Enemies to lovers. Soulmates...

Logan pushed himself back until his back was to the headboard. 'Bub,' he still held onto your wrist, as if afraid you'd disappear if he let you go.

You cupped his rough and large hand in your own. 'Nightmare?'

Sometimes they were memories, painful ones. But the screams, the growls, you'd never heard that reaction from him before.

'You died,' he whispered. He looked her over again. 'You died in my arms.'

'I'm right here,' you said.

Logan looked into your eyes, shaking his head. He was trembling.

You grabbed his cheeks. Any other time, he would have turned away or growled but he only stared at you. Your thumbs soothed over his cheeks, begging him to see you. 'I'm safe. You're safe. Nothing is going to happen to us.'

As if the words instructed him, he knelt, the covers clinging to cover his decency. He held onto your shoulders, a grip worthy of leaving bruises. 'I won't lose you like I've lost everyone else, bub. I won't.'

You nod. 'Ok.'

Logan slowly shrunk back, tucking his covers closer to him. His hands fell between the two. 'Did I... get you?'

For a moment you wondered what he meant. His claws. He was afraid he'd hurt you.

'What? oh, no. No. I'm fine. You must have got yourself though,' you said, gesturing to the blood on the sheets like blood against snow.

'I heal,' Logan grumbled, glancing back up at you. Without saying it, you knew he had the dark images floating in his mind again.

'I'm fine, Logan. You don't need to be so afraid.'

He gulped, his jaw clenching. There was something he wanted to say, but wasn't.

Your hand itched out to reach his but after years of experience, you knew too much physical touch or affection would scare him away. 'Do you want to talk about it?'

'No,' he denied immediately. 'I don't want to think about it.'

You nod slowly. 'Ok.'

The door was still locked and the night was still going.

'Do you want me to stay?'

Logan looked at the door and then at the wrecked sheets around him. He sighed at the sight but his eyes glanced up to you. God, you saw the pain fade to something else. Something softer. 'Come 'ere.' He pulled at your shoulder until you were tucked into his side, warmth spreading over your skin as he tugged the blanket over the two of you.

Your arm slid over his chest and you sighed at the feeling of him. Your legs hiked up, until you were a ball in his side. 'Oh thank god, you're wearing boxers.'

He huffed a laugh, your head moving on his chest. 'I can take them off, if you like?'

You hummed, fingers tracing circles on his chest. 'Don't tempt me, Wolvie.'

✧˚

Logan had always battled against his dreams.

On one hand, he knew they were tricking him. He knew what nightmares were memories played ten-fold to make them worse and he knew which ones were playing on his fears. Like you dying.

But, the less reasonable part of himself (and the part he favoured) couldn't stop thinking about your death. It was the first dream of the sort. He'd had some where he hurt you, his claws sinking into your skin. He'd have other dreams where he was sinking himself into you in a different way.

Your death was new. And it scared him. It scared him so bad he went to Charles to try to calm him.

'Our minds have a way of tricking us, Logan,' said the professor. 'Y/N is a string mutant, level five at that. And she is sensible, good for you in that way.'

'It was Jean,' he admitted. 'In the dream, it was Jean that killed her.' Knowing how much you loved the woman, he hadn't wanted to tell you. You were close enough to sisters, with similar enough powers to grow up together and help each other. For days, he'd looked at Jean with anger and grief. He couldn't help himself, even when Scott threatened to hurt him.

When Charles hesitated to talk him down, to comfort him and tell him Jean would never, it set Logan on edge for the rest of his days.

Now, he feared it was less a dream and more a prophecy.

Jean had lost herself to the Phoenix, that power inside of her that had always threatened to break out. She'd killed the professor, she'd got rid of Cyclops.

Her eyes were set on you.

Logan had done all he could to talk you down to helping. To fighting but you'd distracted him and come along anyway. He'd tried to take down Jean himself with little effort.

The only other person who stood any chance, was you.

He was slouched on the ground, a slab of metal crushing him down as he watched you creep closer to Jean like she was a ticking time bomb. 'Y/n,' he tried to call.

Maybe you didn't hear him, or perhaps you didn't want to. 'Jean, please! Listen to me.'

Logan grunted, trying hard, trying so hard to get free. 'No!'

You raised your hands to the redhead. Her eyes were dark, black like ink and beyond recognition. But she was still your friend, in there. 'Let me help you. I want to help you.'

'Go away,' she growled, trying to push you away with her power, but you blocked with your own.

'Y/N! Don't!' he yelled.

His voice irritated Jean, who's neck cranked around to get rid of his voice. 'Stop!' she yelled.

'Jean, you can stop this. All you need to do is come back to me,' you said, every step getting closer and closer to her.

'Stop!'

Logan grunted, straining against the junk. 'Y/N.'

You reach out a hand to her. 'Jean, come back to us.'

'Leave me alone!' she threw out her arms and you were thrown from your feet, from the junk, tumbling down and being thrown out of sight.

But you couldn't be dead. No, you'd survived worse. But Jean had hurt you and whatever inside of her wasn't Jean.

Logan found the strength and threw the junk off him, running to end Jean and not you.

It was a mistake. If he had known you were in your final breaths then he'd have fought thousands of Jean's to reach you.

But no, whilst he dealt with saving the world, Rogue fell to your side. She gasped at what she was seeing. Metal. Metal pieces thrust through your chest, marking your suit with blood. Too much blood. You didn't heal. Getting out of there was a no go.

Rogue cried. 'Oh god.'

'Hey,' your eyes were barely open, as if so sleepy you couldn't hold your eyes open. Your hand reached out to grab her, but she seemed so far away. 'It's ok. I'm ok.' Both knew it was a lie. A comforting lie. Your head lulled to the side, to look toward Rogue. 'Is Logan alright?'

As you asked, the chaos around them ended. Logan threw his claws into Jean and laid her down gently, knowing you'd want to treat her with the last bit of respect she deserved. He did it for you. All for you.

Rogue watched as everything around you fell. She looked back over her shoulder, seeing a wounded Logan heal at remarkable rate. 'Yes. Yes, he's alright-'

When she looked back at you, your eyes were closed. It was so peaceful, so quick and easy it was as if you were sleeping. But Rogue gently touched your hand with her bare skin and there was nothing. Nothing.

'No!' an animalistic roaring echoed around them, shaking the earth. Logan fell next to you, hands hovering over your body, afraid to touch. 'No! No!' finally, he touched you, ripping away any little part of metal he could get to.

Rogue backed away, crying silently as the X-men gathered to see Logan cradle his own heart to his chest.

Slowly, he takes you in his arms and pulls you from the metal that had stabbed you. Your body slouches, arms falling out and not wrapping around him, not comforting him like he needed you to. He shook your body, tears blurring his vision and sliding down until they splashed on your cheeks. But you didn't flinch.

'Y/N? Y/N? Bub, c'mon,' he cried, shaking his head. 'Don't do this to me, no.'

It was just as he'd seen. Your blood. His body. Your death. His arms.

Logan growled. 'C'mon!' he roared. It was a moment of fury. Blind anger raging as you left him when you promised you never would. Suddenly, he remembered how much you hated his anger. How you'd shriek away from his yells. 'Oh, baby, i'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry.' Logan cradled you close, kissing the top of your forehead. You were so cold already.

Nobody touched him. Nobody comforted him. That was your job. But you were dead. His dreams had come true in the worst way possible.

Logan, held you close, rocking you both, finally realising what it felt like to lose everything.

(If anyone has any ideas for a Logan request please let me know, I’d love to try to write more about him!)

[saerins]

─── & 𝐀𝐆𝐀𝐈𝐍

+ itoshi sae x f!reader | wc 4k | content: slight angst, established relationship, friends/exes to lovers, hurt/comfort, breakup, mentions of jealousy, implied adults here

notes: DISCLAIMER I HAVENT WRITTEN PROPERLY IN A WHILE so it’s probably quite shitty but i missed him ok !!! T_T sobs i hope you guys like this one <3

summary: sae’s still learning the ropes on being in a relationship, and sometimes you think you can’t wait any longer. but this is itoshi sae, maybe you can.

sae hates this sickly tension in the air.

your brows are furrowed and you’re biting your lower lip; it’s the look of confusion that he’s not very used to, but is most aware of anyway. it’s the look you always carry when you’re upset and conflicted and you’re trying not to say any more than you already have on the off chance that you’d cry after you do.

it’s not your fault for getting jealous—sae knows that. all it is is an unfortunate byproduct of him not being around as much as you need him to. but in his head, his mind tells him one thing only: how can you expect him to when that’s what his career entails?

didn’t you know that before agreeing to be his girlfriend?

maybe you’re painfully aware of how it’s neither of your faults, and maybe that’s why you’re really confused. because there’s no one to blame. sae wasn’t to blame for having to show up at an event with some famous actress. he was doing his job. he had told you not to go, but somehow oliver had taken it upon himself to invite you anyway.

“i’m at every event with a different girl, the tabloids wouldn’t suspect a thing about her being your girlfriend, right?”

famous last words because sae’s going to have to kill him one day for that.

beside you on the couch, sae’s head falls to his hands, elbows propped on his knees. it’s not your fault either, he realises, for not being able to take it when you experience firsthand how people gush over him and saiko, the actress. you aren’t used to this life. maybe you shouldn’t have to.

“i don’t know what to do anymore, sae.”

after an entire hour of arguing how he should at least talk to you about these things instead of throwing them under the rug, after an entire hour of how sae tried to defend himself by saying he couldn’t possibly read your mind—you’re both exhausted.

“well i don’t fucking know neither,” he confesses, half snaps, and his head is still in his hands. he knows you’re looking at him, wanting to search his expression for answers that he can’t give verbally. but sae doesn’t want you to see him like this, unsure and conflicted, almost as much as you.

through your eyes, you’ve never felt more rejected than you do when you look at your entire world and see it refuse to let you in. his hair is a mess now, from running after you in the rain, his expression is unreadable and his clothes soaking through his body. sae is always like this when there’s a fight—always avoiding the hard conversations.

and maybe you would’ve let it slide if you’re sure of his feelings for you, but you’re not. you’ve been friends with sae for three years, been together with him for six months. but in all this time, he’s never actually told you how he feels for you. not a small utterance of his love, or any indication of his feelings through text.

no matter how strong or optimistic you are, you aren’t sure if you can last any longer like this.

“sae, can you answer me honestly?”

he doesn’t say a thing, but you know he’s listening. he always does. which is why it hurts even more when he doesn’t do anything whenever you argue. because you know that out of everyone, itoshi sae best knows what you need.

but he won’t do it.

“do you still want this?”

a suffocating silence blankets the room, and after an agonising two minutes, you get your answer in his silence.

slowly, you get up off the couch, and you can almost laugh at why your impending departure is the only thing that can make him look at you.

“i’m sorry, sae, i can’t do this anymore,” you tell him, smiling even though you’re crying, and for a moment, the way he widens his beautiful teal eyes and how he instinctively reaches out to grab your wrist almost breaks you. but you’ve decided, and it’s too late now. “i’ll find an apartment and move out as soon as i can.”

when sae watches you retreat to your shared bedroom and lock the door, he realises by the plunging of his heart that he’s not okay with this. that he’s not okay with letting you leave. it’s stupid why he can’t even find the fucking words to say because he does, he does want this.

that’s why he rushes to the door, knocks rapidly in succession only to hear silence in return. and now he knows exactly how you feel. you’ve always been the vocal one, always been there—armed with your assurances that you never realised he needed, coupled with your smile that drives every negativity in his head away.

“y/n, open the door,” sae tries, but you don’t respond. he hears the tap switching on and he’s cursing himself in his head. his forehead presses against the white wooden surface, unable to bring himself away. “y/n, talk to me.”

for the first time since he met you, you don’t listen.

the next morning is even more torturous than the night sae spent not sleeping.

when you finally come out of the room, you feel like a stranger. your hair’s done up, your makeup fresh, the smile on your face is still gone.

“morning.”

your eyes flick up to meet his as you walk to the kitchen, but they don’t light up like they used to. he can see you swallowing the lump in your throat before you choke out a good morning in return, though it’s strained.

have you been crying all night?

“listen, can we talk about last night?” sae asks, but it’s futile.

the way you close the fridge door carelessly sits uncomfortably with him, only because he feels like he recognises you even less. the way you smile after that is so forced he would rather you didn’t.

“oh right, about that, good news,” you try to sound chirpy, but it settles awkwardly between the both of you. “i managed to find some listings, so i’m gonna go check them out. fingers crossed i’ll be out of your hair soon!”

you’re prancing around the kitchen like a madwoman, humming tunes he doesn’t know and playing the part of not you all too well.

“y/n, i don’t want you to—”

“stop, sae,” you cut him off, heart broken and head buried in the cupboard.

he saunters to your side, not daring to get too close to you, afraid you’d just retreat further away. “tell me what i can do.” a part of him wants you to ask him that question again, so that he can answer now. so that he can tell you how he really feels.

but it doesn’t come. you’re just staring blankly at the wall.

when his gaze falls to your neck, he realises that necklace he gave you isn’t there like it used to be everyday. his heart sinks even further. “you’re not wearing it anymore?”

it’s stupid of him to expect you to. as of last night, you both were as good as broken up, after all.

“y/n, can we talk? i really—”

“sae, enough,” you utter through gritted teeth. “i don’t want to hear it anymore.”

—love you. that’s what he wants to say. but you’re past caring, it seems.

sae’s lips are sewn tightly shut after that, both of you eating breakfast in silence. you’re eating what you cooked, some sausages and a sunny egg and toast while sae’s stuck with cereal because you usually do all the cooking.

you don’t look at him, and he doesn’t look at you. the hands on the analog clock are all either of you hear aside from your own chewing.

“at least let me drive you,” sae says as you head for the door, slipping into your sneakers.

your hand hovers over the doorknob, as though you’re considering it, and for a minute sae is hopeful, but then the next minute, you pour water over his fire.

“it’s fine, i can manage fine on my own.”

for some reason, sae feels like you’re telling him that for much more than just today.

days pass and you’ve barely spoken two words to each other. sae finds himself taking the chance to look at you much more than he has before; you still look tired. maybe it’s from all the house visiting, or maybe it’s the outcome of being with him. he’s still not okay with you moving, with you not being in his life, but sae’s stuck at a loss of what to do.

you’d been spearheading this relationship all this time that now, sae has no idea what to do. any attempt at a conversation is thwarted by you, and any time he comes near you, you relegate to the room and lock yourself in there.

sae’s taken his necessities and moved to the guest bedroom, and he thinks it’s so stupid to think that sleeping in a different room is better than being at a different apartment altogether.

but how long until you find a suitable apartment and move out? how long until sae has zero chance at being able to see you again?

“that sounds like a you problem though.”

as sae sits across the booth and deadpans at his younger brother, he thinks maybe the most useless thing you’ve ever done is repairing their relationship. especially with rin mumbling useless shit like that.

“yeah, thanks for the help,” sae rolls his eyes, watching as rin pops a nugget into his mouth.

“why didn’t you answer her then?” rin surveys his older brother’s movements; uncomfortable, awkward, reserved. he’s amazed that anyone can get sae like this, if he’s honest. he doesn’t usually give a shit about anything that doesn’t concern himself.

sae sighs. if he knew, he wouldn’t be here. he’d be with you, trying to explain how fucked up he is and why he didn’t say shit when he should’ve. but now, you won’t even give him the chance to talk without shutting yourself away.

rin groans, thoroughly annoyed because unbeknownst to his brother, you’d already filled rin in on everything. besides, you’re kind of already like a sister to him anyway. and you’re better at being an older sibling than sae is, granted.

“do you still want her though?” rin asks. it’s kind of tiring, being in the middle, being told by both parties to not say a thing to the other. he’s also tired of sae and his cryptic messages when he wants advice but is too proud to outright ask for it. and also of you whining in his messages about how if sae keeps this up you can’t keep being strong about this anymore.

“yeah.”

sae’s answer is surprisingly simple, and rin is entirely unamused.

“yeah maybe i see why she left you.”

“excuse me?”

rin meets his brother’s gaze, unrelenting. “you still want her yet you’re here telling me about it instead of her. i think you’d win best boyfriend of the millenia award.”

rin is dripping with sarcasm and maybe if he wasn’t his brother sae would’ve already punched him. but by the end of the night, sae can only come to one conclusion; it’s his fault for not talking it out when he could. so he could either let you go, or try, just like you did before.

he’d have to do it tonight, unless he wants to wait another month after his match next week in the states. but if he does, you’d be gone by then, he knows it. so he has to make it tonight.

and he’s hopeful, because he’ll make it fucking work no matter what he has to do. he’s not going to back down that easily, not anymore. and he knows it’s late and it’s 11pm and you’re probably asleep but fuck, you’re just going to have to wake up when he pounds hard on the bedroom door.

which is exactly what he plans to do—wake you up, talk to you, and tell him how fucking stupid he is and that he’s sorry and he fucked up.

it probably won’t make up for all the times he failed to speak when he should’ve, but sae thinks it’s a start.

so he unlocks the front door and walks straight to your bedroom door, but when he reaches up to knock it, he realises it isn’t even locked. when he slowly opens the door, you aren’t even there.

sae knows what to expect, but he still opens the closet anyway. and all the drawers. and inspects the bathroom. but every trace of you is gone. even the photos in the living room that had been all framed up. it’s no longer there. you probably threw them somewhere.

fuck.

he’d chase you if he could, but you’re already long gone. his calls aren’t even going through—did you block him already? not even a goodbye note, nothing.

it’s useless, but he opens your chat thread anyway.

y/n, come back. i still want this.

but it reads undelivered.

it’s a long shot. a very, very, slim chance.

sae tries to take it anyway.

a month later, the moment he touches down and puts his luggage back at home, he grabs his car keys and makes a break for your favourite hangout; a cosy family cafe at the edge of the city, near your workplace. he’s taken you there many times before on your request, and if there’s anywhere he’ll find you, he bets it’s there.

after a whole agonising month of trying and failing to talk to you, sae’s still going to try. fuck it if you reject him after that—at least he gets to say he tried.

he sits at the cafe from noon till evening, five hours of occupying the spot at the corner—your favourite one because you say it shades from the sun and it’s easy to wave the waiter over.

sae’s beginning to think that you’re not coming today, but then he sees a familiar figure strolling into the cafe. it’s not you, but it’s your best friend, suzuki, if he remembers correctly. suzuki, the one with the black hair and sharp blue eyes because the moment she walks in, she spots him in the corner, a knowing smirk on her face.

“what’re you doing here?” she asks, without a greeting first, because you probably told her what happened and she’s probably not very happy with him.

sae sighs, feeling stupid sitting here for five hours. although at least, she’s confirmation that you’ll be here soon.

“eating.” weak excuse, but whatever.

suzuki cocks a brow, “sure you’re not just a pathetic loverboy waiting for my best friend?”

is this embarrassment even worth it anymore?

before suzuki can say any more, sae hears a very familiar voice speaking his name, and there it is again—all the negativity seeped out of him in an instant.

“y/n, hey,” he greets, as though you haven’t been avoiding him this whole time.

on your part, you acknowledge him, which is way better than what he expected (you storming out and running away from him).

“what’re you doing here?”

sae wants to talk to you, but with suzuki’s eyes glued onto him, it kind of ruins the mood. still, this is the most you’ve spoken in two months and he’s not about to pass that up.

“i wanted to talk to you,” he says, keeping his voice down. “meet me after dinner?”

there is hesitance in your eyes, but your gazes meet again and for the first time since that night, sae is greeted with your genuine smile—“yeah, sure.”

just like that he’s taken back to three years ago when he first met you, when he first saw you smile at him and instantly knew that he had to have you, somehow. sae’s stupid to have hurt you however he did, he knows that now.

but now, selfish as it is, he can only hope that you haven’t moved on yet.

sae puts your new address into his phone as you get into the car, fortunately agreeing to let sae drive you home.

“so, how’ve you been?”

it’s a stupid question to start with, and he hates himself for not getting to the point, but sue him; he’s still somehow afraid you’d shut him out straightaway if you knew what he really wanted to talk about.

your fingers rest awkwardly on your lap. sae can’t help but remember how they used to crawl over to the driver’s seat, resting on his thighs or teasingly curling his hair.

“i’m okay, finally left that job of mine.”

the one with the overbearing boss who micromanages way too much—yeah, sae remembers. he really wishes he’d treasured the little things more when he had them, like your small updates on your job and your family, or even the way you’d routinely text him everyday after work to see what he wanted for dinner.

“found a new one yet?”

you look out the window where you’d usually look at him. guess this is still awkward for you. “nope, but i’m working on it. i have a couple of interviews scheduled next week.”

“that’s nice,” sae responds, albeit half-heartedly because he’s never been good at conversations like these.

(on your end, you can’t help but realise how slow he’s driving even when there’s no other car in front of him. a part of your heart warms at the fact that maybe itoshi sae wants more time with you after all.)

“how about you? how was the match in london? heard you guys won by a huge margin.” (that’s a lie. you didn’t hear anything, you watched the match, stayed up late and all. nothing that sae needs to know.)

sae can tell you’re lying though, because you have that little habit where your ears twitch ever so slightly when you speak, and he chuckles softly. “it’s not a crime to watch my match, you know?”

your cheeks heat up—you really shouldn’t have asked anything at all. you whip your head towards him, sulking, “i didn’t watch it, okay?”

“sure, whatever you say,” sae tells you, feeling the tension lift off, feeling the normal you come back again. “how’s the new house?”

“it’s… okay. my roommate’s a little bit annoying but i can live with it.”

sae thought he could endure the small talk a little longer, but he can’t. not really. because the words just slip out of his mouth.

“then move back in with me.”

the car comes to a stop at a red light, and neither of you can look at each other. sae wonders if you’re just going to be impulsive and run out the door.

you don’t.

“it’ll be a little awkward living with an ex, don’t you think?”

“then all you have to do is get back with me,” sae answers, witty as you always remembered.

a moving car isn’t the best place to have this conversation, but if he doesn’t take the chance now, what if he loses it forever?

“i was stupid, okay? i don’t know why i didn’t say anything back then but the answer is yes, yes i do still want this- you.”

and it takes you aback slightly, because he’s never been one to be so vocal about his emotions. it kind of scares you a little too, how easily you fold when it comes to sae. it took everything in you to block his number that day, and everywhere else, and you’ve been hard at work trying to forget him, to the extent you’d agreed to room with some male even though you knew it was a bad idea.

but the moment you saw sae in that cafe, everything goes back to square one. and you’re kind of sick of lying to yourself—that the way you left didn’t leave a gaping hole in your heart, that the way you blocked him didn’t leave you chock full of regrets.

“maybe you should’ve said that before i left, then.” but you’re also stubborn, so there’s that.

sae pulls up outside of your new apartment complex right as the words leave your mouth, but his hand reaches out to grip your wrist after you unbuckle your seatbelt.

“i know i probably wasn’t a good boyfriend—” sae can’t bring himself to look at you as he speaks the words he thought would never leave his mouth— “but i promise i’ll work on it, ‘kay? just- don’t leave.”

again.

maybe in another life, you’re stronger than this. in that other life, maybe sae’s better at being expressive, better at reassuring you.

your eyes flick across the car to meet his, and he’s looking right at you, a sort of gaze that you’ve never really quite seen before—a mixture of both faith and fear. his grip on your wrist is firm, as if he’s afraid you didn’t believe him when he uttered those words.

“you make it very hard to stay broken up, you know that?” you’re pouting, hard, if only to try to keep yourself from smiling.

and the second you respond, the second he realises you didn’t reject him, his expression levels with that of a—how would you describe it, a golden retriever? as though he’s wagging his tail.

“so- you’re willing to give this a shot?”

you chew your inner cheek, “not so fast, hot shot. i’m not taking you back that easily.”

sae pulls back, cocking a brow, but he knows by the tone of your voice that his chance is at least granted. “what do you mean?”

you grin, “maybe i want you to chase me again, itoshi sae. can’t have you thinking i’m that easy to get, you know?”

your future boyfriend smirks, shaking his head. “you’re impossible, y/n l/n.” you hear nothing but fondness in his voice.

and just like the good boyfriend he envisions himself to be in the future, he walks you up to your doorstep, complete with giving a peck on your forehead when you arrive.

“how am i doing so far?”

“sae, it’s only been an entire elevator ride!” you laugh, sae pecking even more kisses onto your face. what makes this entirely more amusing is how he’s so straight-faced while doing it. “okay okay, i’ll rate you a six so far. you’re gonna have to do better on those dates you’ll ask me out on.”

he thinks you’re such a tease, but hey, he wouldn’t have you any other way.

when you open the door, you turn around to look at him, pressing your lips into a firm line before placing a quick kiss on his lips, making his heart skip two beats because he didn’t think you’d be so kind.

“see you soon, itoshi sae?”

sae nods, “yeah tomorrow.”

“someone’s eager,” you chuckle, though you agree to it. “see you tomorrow.”

bonus: the next day

“itoshi sae, you’re too much.”

you’re lugging your suitcase behind you, sae carrying one of the heavier boxes. he keeps quiet, a sullen expression on his face.

“we could’ve at least waited for the movers to be available, you know?” you sigh as you get into the lift, sae pressing the topmost floor—back to the apartment you shared after a mere month of living on your own.

sae’s expression is now tilted towards you, and you don’t need him to speak to know what he’s thinking.

“do i really deserve the silent treatment for this?”

you’re not really arguing, but having a little disagreement. a small part of you is happy you get to do this with sae again, and not anyone else. that just means you two are that much closer, still.

“as if i’m gonna let you continue living there.”

you scoff, “what are you talking about? that apartment was completely fine!”

sae raises a brow, completely aware that you’re not actually back together but not being able to help himself nonetheless. because like hell is he ever allowing you to live there ever again.

“don’t fucking care, you’re not living with that michael fucking kaiser ever again.”

[misslovasstuff]

Prompt: “Wanna go on an adventure?”

You say whilst wearing a sexy dress that’d leave any man drooling.

paired with: Sanji, Zoro and Ace.

warning: contains nsfw, minors are asked not to interact.

author’s note: the opening line for Ace is the smoothest thing I’ve ever written till now. If you guys want me to continue any of this, let me know.

Sanji:

“Goodness, - he eyes you up and down. - oh my oh my oh my…!”

The cook’s mouth drops as he covers it with his hand in complete disbelief.

“You’re such a merciless woman! - Sanji approaches slowly, caressing your arm with the back of his hand just to feel you and understand that what’s happening right now is certainly not a dream. - Don’t you know what you do to me when you wear clothes like these~

He grabs your bra strap on your shoulder and pulls it, hitting your skin, all whilst never shifting his gaze away from your eyes which were too shy to look back. A small moan escapes your mouth as you look at your man in a new light, since he’s never done this before.

“Sanji… - you call him breathily, as there is a passion in his eyes you recognised very well. - you’re being so…ahh…”

His hand caresses your back and stops low. You can’t tell what he’s doing until your dress begins to losen up.

He reveals the bow tie he had just removed, putting it in between your faces as he whispers: “you’ve wrapped yourself like a present for me, my lady. “

His left hand pulls you by the waist while the other brushes off some strands of hair out of your face, thus making your eyes meet: you realise how beautifully intense his gaze on you, as if he was looking at a dream come true.

His charms were too much to handle, making you gulp hard as you glance at his lips, so much so that Sanji might have heard it. His instincts are insane, he knows what you’re feeling and why every single time.

“I did put this on for you.” - Sanji averts his eyes for a moment, staring at your body with a smirk after your reply. The dress was revealing but still managed to leave space for imagination to fill. And, anybody who knows men, especially the ones like Sanji, know that this is all they want to get that fire going.

He grabs your chin gently and kisses your cheek. You surely know because of Sanji about those kisses where the impact of his lips is like a signature on your skin and you just feel it as if he was kissing your soul, you absorb it with every fiber of your being.

“Right, you wanted to go on an adventure? - he smirks before kissing your face again and again in such an agonising small pace, letting you wanting more, so much more.. - You might take me on one, under one condition.”

You raise an eyebrow and grin:

“Oh really, you’re putting conditions now, huh?” - you say, playing with his hair as your arms rest on his shoulders. - What is it that my prince wants?”

“Well, adventures are dangerous so, - Sanji begins to kiss you on the lips soflty, as he speaks in between, - might have to keep you very close to me. - his lips move down your neck, fingers brushing off skin before he kisses and sucks there. Slight moans are already being heard from you. - not to mention all the excitement…

You’re completely pulled in by him. Not only physically, but your entire being deviates towards his body, like a moth to a burning flame.

“I’ll take… responsibility for it all…” - your breath begins to shorten as you drown your face in the nape of his neck, taking in his fragrance like it was a life-saving drug.

“You’re gonna take care of me, huh? Alright then, the most important thing is, - suddenly he goes down in one knee, grabbing your leg and placing your foot to rest on his thigh while he caresses the inner part of yours. - you gotta let me undress you bit by bit, on my own, throughly.”

You smirk, raising your dress just a bit higher to reveal more to his bare eye. That’s see how long it’s gonna take until this dress finds itself on the floor.

“Deal. All yours.”

Zoro:

“Oh, look at that. Someone’s been feeding her imagination lately.” - Zoro is sat on a chair, looking like he had just finished a glass of booze.

“Only mine?” - you close the door behind you, staying firm in front of him.

Zoro’s eyes adventure in your body before he spins his index finger as to signal you to turn around 360 degrees for him.

So you do.

If only there was a way do describe the way his eyes stared you down, as if he was consuming you only with his gaze. After taking a last sip out of his glass, he puts it away, licking his lips.

“Come here.” - he demands by patting his lap for you to sit.

You compose yourself on his thigh, the rest of your legs resting on his other whilst your long and tender arms wrap themselves around his neck.

Zoro scans your face with a smirk that hides so many nasty thoughts which only occurred when he was with you like this.

“Tell me about that adventure you were talking about.” - he claims with a low and deep voice, brushing your chin with his thumb.

Perhaps it was the booze or perhaps it was you who had gotten the swordsman a bit tipsy.

Zoro pushes your hair away from your shoulders, planting gentle but rooted kisses there.

“Tell you or show you? - you reply back, running your fingers through his hair and then brushing off the back of his neck.

“I’m a visual learner.”

With the cue, you caress his lower lip, leaning in and then facing away, teasing him.

A smirk from you doesn’t go unnoticed by your man, which he mirrors and shakes his head to.

“You know, it doesn’t make sense for you to play hard to get after coming to me dressed like this.” - he claims, biting his lip as his eyes glance at your body.

Zoro raises an eyebrow, at your next remark.

“Sorry, i keep getting distracted.”

You like the expression on his face. There’s frustration but love, eagerness but also resistance. Normally you wouldn’t continue teasing him like this but you know he likes it.

“Don’t worry, I’ll keep you focused for some time.”

It’s not long till he grabs your cheeks with one hand while the other caresses your thigh and pushes you closer so your lips meet passionately. His tongue dominates yours and he kisses like he was sucking the soul out of your body. The taste of alcohol on his mouth, his heavy breathing and those subtle but harsh touches were making you go insane.

His hand travels down to your upper part of the dress, lowering it with one pull thus revealing your bare chest. He gazes upon it before grabbing it with a hand, squeezing those boobs together before devouring them in his mouth.

Seeing you dressed like this, although not admitting it, must have turned him on like crazy. Your moans only add to his excitement as you push your head back, breathily calling his name.

“Zoro…- you clench your hand to his shirt, keeping yourself balanced.

“Ima bout to take you to the best adventure you’ve had in your life.”

This said, his hands take a strong grip on your waist, grabbing it good before picking you up and making you sit on the table, parting your legs and looking intensely at your eyes.

Zoro pulls you in by grabbing your legs, touching his forehead with yours as he whispers:

“Damnit, you’re so sexy right now I’m barely holding myself together.”

Ace:

“Dressed like that, the only adventure you’ll take me is inside you.”

You get all flustered as he scans you from head to toe, leaning against the counter with his arms crossed.

“Not to mention, now I feel underdressed.” - he claims chuckling, as he pushes his body forward to approach you. Ace looks down on you, seeing your body from a perspective he didn’t imagine before. The way your dressed fit with your curves and just the fact that you looked so hot in it made his body go all ‘code red’ whilst standing in close proximity, but not putting any hands on you yet.

“Well, it won’t matter anyways, - you reply, making the first move by caressing his chest. - you’ll get it off me faster than I put it on.”

“I see you came with clear expectations. - he replies, touching the hand you were caressing his chest with and lending a kiss to the palm. - what can I do for you, beautiful? You want an adventure?”

Your expression softens, as small romantic gestures that he did always left you in awe. But you’re no fool because it is known very welll by both of you what happens soon after and how that softness turns into grabbing the bed sheets.

“Kiss me, please.” - your voice sounds desperate which makes Ace grin.

“So needy today ~

His lips are inviting yours in a way that’s never happened before. He presses them delicately at first only to go absolutely feral after. Feels so perfect that even his head movements are in sync with yours, like dancing a fierce tango. He’s too eager, too hungry and too demanding. You’d swear you felt his tongue going down your throat as his hands are placed so well at your lower back, sliding down slowly.

“Ace… - you moan after finally catching your breath. Meanwhile, this man can’t stand without doing something that drives you crazy and you loved him for that.

He manages to get his hands under your dress, squeezing your ass like it was the only thing he wanted to hold on in this life. Ace comes back with more passionate kisses and touches second after second, making you unable to think, thus you just surrender to him completely.

“Dressed all pretty for me, - he says, pushing you a bit backwards, pinning you against the nearest wall. - you deserve a good reward, don’t ya?”

As your back hits the wall, Ace wastes no time in grabbing your legs and pushing them up to his waist. The dress no matter how sexy, still prevented him from feasting his eyes at you. A smirk appears on your eyes whilst biting your lip as you hang onto him shoulders.

He starts unzipping the front of your dress, turned on even more by looking at your expression filled of burning lust, showing unconsciously how much you wanted him.

“Let’s do some adventuring, shall we?”

[springlockscars]

oral fixation (w.afton/fem!reader)

pairing: william afton | steve raglan/fem!reader content tags: oral fixation, oral sex, body worship, pussy eating, tongue fucking, praise kink, william can not keep his mouth off you. summary: William has an obsessive habit of chewing and biting things, especially when he's stressed. You interrupt his work at just the right time. word count: 2,898 read on AO3

18+ content below cut. minors do not interact.

note: I am so glad I received this because I love oral fixation fics.

In public, Steve’s mannerisms, his facial expressions, were a well-rehearsed performance. Not a single person would be able to see the crime scene he cleaned up a week ago through the crease in his eyebrows, or the screams of a victim he still heard ringing in his ears in the way he sipped bitter coffee from a chipped mug; they simply were not there.

No, Steve Raglan was an ordinary guy. A little peculiar perhaps. Sometimes he tried a little too hard to be funny, and that affinity he seems to have for rabbit themed memorabilia could be classed as odd to some. Aside from that, Career Councillor Steve Raglan acted no differently to any other employee in the office.

In private, however, the comfort of his own home or even the privacy the closed door of his office provides, William Afton wore his thoughts externally like he wore the sleeves of his shirt. William would chew on the plastic end of a pen while pouring over a client’s file; agonising over how he was supposed to find suitable employment for a 37-year-old with only a high-school education, a criminal record and a 9-year unexplained gap in his employment history.

He would light up a cigarette or two, rolling the paper filter between his lips, biting it carefully with his teeth while sketching concept blueprints for a new animatronic design, trying to seamlessly integrate a dispenser for a knockout gas that wouldn’t be overtly noticeable.

William would bite his nails and chew his lips when you were out late and not responding to his calls or texts, crashing those worried lips to yours as soon as you’d come through the door. “My phone died and I had to stay late, you don’t have to worry I’m safe.” “All manner of dangerous people are out there,” he sighed your name, “can you use a coworker’s phone to call me if it happens next time? I hate to be sitting on the edge of my seat wondering if someone is hurting my girl.”

It was now that William was deep in thought, a half burned out cigarette resting in between his lips. He was tweaking some finer details on an endoskeleton hand, wanting it to have more precise movements, he had said before heading into his garage workshop. That was over five hours ago and the dinner you decided to make him was almost ready.

You watched him from the doorway. The ashtray showing he was on at least his third cigarette; he was stressed. Stepping over boxes and piles of scrap metal, you made your way over to him, resting a palm flat against his back.

“You’re tense,” you said quietly, smoothing your hand over the expanse of his rigid back.

William leaned into your touch but didn’t stop working. You took the chance to gently work out some of the knots in his muscles while he manipulated the metal on the bench, the cigarette still in between his lips. Watching as he moved it between his teeth from the left to the right side of his mouth, flicking it with his tongue and inhaling deeply.

You moved from behind him to lean on the edge of the desk, facing him now. Mentally crossing your fingers in the hopes he wouldn’t snap at you, you take the cigarette from his mouth, immediately drawing his attention. You raise your eyebrows teasingly, bringing the mauled butt to your own lips to take a drag.

“Dinners almost ready,” you exhale the smoke over your shoulder away from him.

A smirk on his lips, “What time is it?” he asks, placing his tools down and finally sitting up straight to stretch out his aching back muscles, twisting his neck side to side. He takes the endoskeleton hand from the desk and places it gently in a box, moving it to a shelf out of the way for now.

“11:41pm, according to the clock in here,” you inhale one more time, feeling the buzz in your head, before passing it back to William who takes the almost finished cigarette graciously. He seems way more interested in it now that it’s been between your lips.

He leans back in his chair, removing his glasses to rub his fatigued eyes then tossing them on the desk. He places the cigarette back between his lips to take a deep, satisfying drag, then stubs it out in the ashtray next to the rest. William exhales, smoke briefly clouding your vision as he reaches for your hips and pulls you down onto his lap, holding you tightly in his calloused hands. One holding your waist, the other gripping your thigh.

William nuzzles into the curve of your neck, nose and scratchy facial hair tickling your sensitive skin. He smiles when he can feel your heartbeat against his lips. He places a kiss, then two. Tracing the tip of his tongue from collarbone to ear, pressing a kiss in the space behind your ear and sweeping your hair back out of the way. You live for these moments. The way he dotes on you and worships every inch of you like a piece of fine art.

“I’m sorry I was distracted in here. Have I been neglecting my girl?” William nips the lobe of your ear with his teeth, before kissing a path down the juncture of your neck again.

“Could tell you were stressed,” your breathing heavy, “you need a break.”

“Hmm,” he responds against your skin.

He kisses firmer, harder, more intensely until he’s sucking a bruise into the delicate skin. The way you feel against him, the way you taste on his tongue. More, is all he can think, closer…

He swivels in his desk chair and guides you onto the hard wooden surface of his workbench, sweeping nuts and bolts, welded pieces of metal and wires out of the way. Some clattering to the ground, but he doesn’t care about that right now. William stands, his 6ft 4” frame towering over you as he leans down, gripping your waist with both hands, and connects his lips to yours.

You can’t help but moan obscenely into the kiss. The ferocity and desperation of his lips moulding against yours has you instinctively grinding your hips against his. Wiliam deepens the kiss, his hot tongue sliding over yours, exploring your mouth and bending you into submission. The kiss tastes like the tobacco you both shared, giving you the same pleasant buzz. He bites at your plush lower lip, pulling it with his teeth enough to make it to puff up and redden.

William leans back slightly to get a better look at you; your hair dishevelled, lips swollen and glistening, chest rising and falling with ragged breaths.

“So beautiful,” he stoops back down, lips connecting to your jaw before nipping and sucking at the skin of your neck again enough to bruise, traveling down to the collar of your shirt.

William slides his skilled hands underneath the fabric, caressing the skin there up to where he can feel your bra. He pushes your shirt higher, up over your chest, off your shoulders and over your head, paying no mind to where it falls.

Immediately, his lips connect to the soft skin of your breast poking out of the top of your underwear. Biting and sucking hard, desperately needing to touch you, to mark you everywhere his lips will reach. His warm hands snake underneath your back to unclasp your bra. He pulls the elastic straps down your arms and discards the garment on the ground, bending further at the waist to bring a nipple into his mouth.

Your back arches into his touch, one hand gripping the back of his head by his hair, the other finding purchase on the workbench by your head to keep you steady. William sucks and bites down on your nipple, bringing it to a hard peak. He moves all around the soft flesh, nipping and leaving bruises. With no pens to chew on and the cigarettes discarded, your body was his distraction from his frustrations and worries right now. Not that this would be the first time.

William moves across your chest to give your other breast equal attention. He bites down on your nipple hard enough for you to gasp and tighten your grip on his hair. He glares up at you through hooded eyes, not angry, but amused.

Whilst caressing and kneading the flesh of your breasts, he moves lower down your body, nipping at your torso and abdomen, leaving a trail of little red marks as he goes. He teasingly kisses the skin just above the waistband of your trousers. Deciding to speed things up he hooks his fingers into the hem and pulls them swiftly down your legs, leaving you in only your panties on top of his work bench.

William smooths his thumbs over your hips where your underwear sits. Continuing his goal of kissing every inch of you, he presses his lips to your mound, moving lower and lower, until he’s kissing right over your clothed clit.

A rush of adrenaline courses through your body, arching once again into his touch. William, however, moves away from the area you need him most. He sits back down in his desk chair, giving him the perfect angle to place hot, open-mouthed kisses to your inner thighs, marring the area shades of bright red and deep purple with his lips and tongue.

Once he deems your thighs suitably marked, he pushes your legs further apart for him to gain access to the area you both need him the most. William runs two fingers down your clothed slit, a grin forming when he sees your arousal seep through the fabric. He teases you like this; tracing over your clit with his fingers, pushing into your entrance as far as the fabric of your underwear will allow. Watching you squirm on his desk, begging for a release.

William finds himself becoming impatient, biting on the skin of his lips, he needs you in his mouth again like an addict craving a fix. He finally lowers his face back down to your core, running his lips across your clothed mound before, with no warning, biting down in the area he knows your clit will be. You scream and arch dramatically off the desk, a hand coming to grip his hair. He smirks up at you, eyes swimming with lust and feeling pride surge in his chest. Nobody else could make you feel like this. Nobody but him.

William flattens his tongue over your clit through your panties as you come down from the electric jolt of pleasure. His saliva soaking through the fabric to your skin underneath, mixing with your arousal. The material of your underwear becomes smooth under William’s tongue, clinging to every dip and curve of your cunt as his hands grip your thighs tight.

“Oh fuck, Will…” you whined.

He hums against you, sliding closer to the desk on the chair and hooking his thumbs under the crotch of your panties. The cool air making goosebumps spread all over your body as it hits your wet core. William holds the fabric to one side, granting him access to tease your pussy while you writhe and moan beneath him. Noticing your reaction to the cold air of the garage, he blows against your cunt, grinning when he hears pathetic whimpers slip past your lips, and he watches you clench around nothing.

He moves closer and takes the swollen flesh of your labia between his teeth, biting ever so slightly. Just enough to make you squirm and moan his name. William sucks the flesh into his mouth hard enough to leave yet another bruise to match the many others that are scattered all over your body. The rough sensation of his facial hair causing the heat to stir low in your abdomen.

Once a suitable mark has been formed, William shifts his attention slightly higher. Flicking his long tongue over your clit, finally making contact skin-to-skin. One of your thighs rested on his shoulder with his arm wrapped underneath, holding you securely at the hip, with his other arm laying on top of your hips, holding your panties to the side to give him direct and uninterrupted access.

“Oh my god!” your own hands come down to grasp at his, feeling that heat intensifying inside you.

William doesn’t stop for a second. He sucks expertly on your clit until you’re writhing against his face. He moves lower and plunges his long tongue deep inside your tight hole. Your grip on his hands tightens as you arch into his mouth. Your upper arms pressing your breasts together, feeling the tenderness on the skin from the assault he laid into them moments ago.

William loves the way you taste, and he resolves to lap up every last drop of your arousal like it was his final meal on death row. He licks a stripe the entire way up your cunt from entrance to clit, before wiggling his tongue back inside, rhythmically stroking your walls. His breath is hot between your legs.

A sweat breaks out over your skin, you pant desperately as William builds your climax, stroke by tantalizing stroke of his tongue. He grips your thighs hard in his hands, bruising handprints holding them in place on his shoulders as you try to grind down against his face.

He eats you out like a man starved; routinely thrusting his tongue deep inside, moving it to circle your clit, pressing flat and teasing with the tip, biting and sucking intensely on your clit and labia before moving back to fuck you with his tongue — all while his facial hair scratches you so delightfully, only adding to the stimulation.

The heat is intensifying. You can feel your muscles begin to tense, twitching uncontrollably against William’s face as your climax takes over your body.

“A-ah, fuck! Oh fuck, Will!” you cried out, chest heaving as you pant and gasp for air.

William strokes your thighs encouragingly, breaking away from your core for a moment.

“Let go for me, baby. Come for me, that’s it,” he dives back in, coaxing you higher and higher, his nose bumping your clit. He loves hearing you cry and squirm at the mercy of his control.

Everything tightens and tightens, reaching an apex until there’s nowhere left to climb, and then you finally snap. Screaming William’s name as your muscles spasm, jolting your entire body. Your thighs tremble at either side of his head. William grips you tight, rhythmically pulsing his tongue inside and helping you ride out your orgasm. Shocks radiate throughout your body, your abdomen twitching and tensing with every clench of your walls.

William finally pulls back, laying gentle kisses to your inner thighs and caressing over your hip bones with his thumbs affectionately.

“Good girl,” he soothes, “good girl, you did so well for me. So good.”

You lay there completely bare on his desk, eyes closed, breathing deep and feeling light headed as you come down from the intense high he gave you. A smile creeping onto your face and a warmth spreading in your chest at his words of praise.

William takes your thighs from his shoulders, stands, and rests your legs on his desk chair. He presses a brief kiss to your abdomen, then higher in the valley between your breasts, your neck, jaw, then finally pecking your lips before deepening the kiss and allowing you to taste yourself on his tongue. You just begin to run your hands through his hair when he leans back.

“I’ll be right back, okay?” he said.

You narrowed your eyebrows, confused as he stepped away.

“Give me one minute, I’m coming straight back.”

You hear him cross the room in wide strides, then the sound of his footsteps as he ascends the stairs in the house. Only moments later, his footsteps drum down the stairs and enter back into the garage.

William drapes something soft over your body; the blanket from your bed. He helps you sit up and pulls the blanket snug around you, then holds you steady as your legs tremble beneath you when you try to stand.

“Woah, easy. Sit here for a sec,” he guides you to his chair, easing you down into the worn seat.

“Thanks,” you sigh, “that was… intense.”

He leans against the desk facing you, the side of your legs pressed against his, “too much?”

“No! No, definitely not. It was good,” you feel warmth creep up your cheeks.

“Good,” William smiles. He swivels the chair and pulls you against him from where you’re sat, your head leaning against his stomach.

“Did it help?” you ask, looking up at him through your eyelashes, “you’re not biting your lip or lighting up another cigarette.”

He chuckles, “oh, it helped. Definitely way less stressed.”

“Good.”

William cups your face in his palm and leans down to press a soft kiss to your lips.

“C’mon, we should go inside. It’s getting cold tonight,” he says, “and didn’t you say something about dinner?”

William gathers your discarded clothes from the floor and offers you an arm to hold, leading you out of the garage and back into the warmth of the house where luckily, there was no smoke billowing out of the kitchen.

[moodicorn]

I'm finally posting my version of this MLP colouring page!

Am I WAY too late for the trend? Yes.

Do I care? No. I spend too much time on this to NOT post it lol.

Seriously, though. I spent so much time agonising over the characters' colours, and then i just sort of... forgot about this. Hopefully I'll get around to creating my full-on redesigns of these guys some day.

[lucabyte]

If you wouldn't mind, could you explain to me in detail how your sifloop works? Would there ever be a romantic relationship between the two (and how do you think they would get to that stage) or do you just think they'll be stuck in this weird messed up obsession and loathing loop forever? Anyway your takes on sifloop are my favourite if you couldn't tell

Oh, I've been depicting it as romantic the whole time (remembers I'm asexual and aromantic and thus my depictions of such are alien at best) Er, though you'd be forgiven for not noticing.

I know I don't draw them being particularly traditionally cute (kissing, cuddling, etc) (even though I do envision that any time it's not literally extremely inconvenient that they are entangled like a pair of magnetised squiddles) particularly often.*

(Though, I do have some hints at that kind of behaviour: (x) (x) (x)) But this is where, hm, my particular readings of these characters' self-assessment comes in.

I believe that I (an aroace tumblr user who has been immersed in nuianced language about such things since i was an early teen) and Siffrin/Loop (a guy approaching their thirties who seems to have escaped social pressures primarily via isolation from their peers) will have some different views on things. Hell, Sif/Loop don't even have words for Asexuality and Aromanticism even if they seem to be able to point toward the feeling with roundabout language.

I think that their relationship, in the way that it would manifest, would first and foremost be Physical. Some real Maslow's hierarchy shit. Both of them are viciously touch starved and given the whole shared-ownership-of-body thing I keep alluding to (x) (x) I think they are prone to being a tangled pile of limbs both clothed and unclothed.

Now I (enlightened modern day asexual) do not think that physical/sexual/romantic are in any way synonyms unless you want them to be. I believe that literally all associated behaviours of these can be platonic if that's how you feel about it. Howeverrrrrrr. I really cannot envision "black-and-white-thinking-world-champion siffrin and/or loop" being able to disentangle that so easily. I think they would have trouble squaring the circle of certain actions not being reserved for romance, at least not until after several years of continued unpacking and philosophical discussion with Mirabelle and Odile.

And then there's the part where Siffrin/Loop (and also Isabeau!) have some absolutely insane Jealous streaks. Not even on the downlow, they just do. I think that combination of jealousy and posessiveness when paired with unevenly splitting time between A Guy You're Established To Be (at the very least on his side, romantically) In Love With, and Your Weird Fucking Clone Who You Keep Being Intimate And Intensely Emotional With, is going to cause some problems when it comes to labelling things.

I do not think Sif/Loop are stupid, but man do they ever lack emotional intelligence in a lot of areas (a thing the whole game hammers home). I do not think that they would be level-headed enough to independently invent the idea of "QPR, but the kind where you do basically fuck sometimes". I think they would just (agonise over cheating, first of all.) call it a romantic pairing and be done with it.

And then Isabeau is also there I guess. I gesture at him and at my aforementioned Iseabeau Torment Nexus thoughts (x)(x). I believe this polycule can work and even be healthy but hahahaha oh man they are gonna have some weirrrrrrd fuckin tension beforehand lolllll.

as for how i think they'd get to that stage? lol, lmao. I think of things with a lens of 'what would be the most narratively intense' a lot of the time, so my answer there is:

They basically act like one right out of the gate, at least to the average onlooker**. This makes the fights feel worse. This makes them both paranoid in different ways about how this affects Siffrin's relationship to Isabeau. This makes it more difficult for the party to go "hey so, your friend, we're all being very accepting of their sharp edges because they're clearly someone who's struggling, but why are they suuuuch an asshole?". They fret about this and it causes more push and pull as either side feels guilty about this relationship they're not 'supposed' to have. Even if their relationship woes could easily be squared away by either categorising it as a QPR or talking to Isa (who is vaugardian and probably thus lax about polyamory) neither of them are going to do that right out of the gate because they lack the language, are prone to being wracked by guilt, often assume the worst will happen should they talk about difficult topics, and straight up maybe just see intimacy/sexuality/romance as a package deal due to lacking the social expertise... You see what I mean.

I don't Know if what I envision is... The literal platonic ideal of "A Romantic Relationship". I don't know that if Cupid came on down and inspected my brain that they'd agree that this is romantic and not just like, something really fucking weird, man. I don't even know if I would call it romantic, necessarily. BUT. I Do Think. That These Two. Would Maybe Label It That Way. Because it would make it easier for them to understand and come to peace with that way. Which is what matters. Labels are Descriptive, not Prescriptive.

What I DO think i envision however is something so fucking aroace brained that i can point to sif/loop's canon labels, point to MY labels, and then give you a big thumbs up hoping that you won't get on my ass for implying several sentences upstream that "they probably basically fuck, or something, idk, does star-sucking count as sex? i'm not a doctor nor medical professional of any kind. you probably shouldn't drink whatever comes out of it though"

Implicit question 2: "Jesus Christ you make them seem to hate each other, is that not contradictory? Is that all supposed to be during them being romantically involved?" Yup! Sorry for the subtle undercurrent I haven't previously explicitly and overtly established literally at all but a good chunk of that percieved hatred is a byproduct of Loop keeping their identity secret. That's the space wherein I set most of my fanart. (x) Once that cat is out of the bag I think the heat cools off significantly because then they aren't both talking around each other trying not to actually say what they're fighting about. They can actually bond about shared experiences out in the open rather than keeping their traps shut in case the party overhears. They still fight and have problems thereafter, but it's not made worse by being unable to directly discuss the core issue (+ the party can actually contribute/try to shut things down rather than being unclear on what exactly the issue is)

The above ALSO not helping when it comes to jealousy/feelings of infidelity re: Isabeau. (When specifically in the context of Romantic Frustration here, since that jealousy extends to the whole party when generalised) So that adds another thing to, not necessarily fight about, but be bitter over.

As for hatred being contradictory. Mmm. Nah.

The opposite of Love is not Hate. It is Indifference. (A theme ISAT notably gets at). Hate is distinctly something you do if you care. Often if you care Way Too Much.

I try not to write them hating each other, so much as feeling extremely intensely about each other. (x)

Feeling intensely Thankful, Understood, Sorry, Trapped, Devoted, Jealous, Protective, Pitying, Indebted...

^ Scary ! Complicated ! Hard to deal with ! Even the positive ones can be overwhelming! It's gonna make things weird!

So uh, Yeah. There's your answer? I suppose tl;dr: I view relationships as nebulous and only defined by those in it. (This is something I have previously yapped about at length in essays about my OCs lol) And generally view that there's no "true" label for any relationship except the one that doesn't cause undue distress. (which. i mean it does here. but it probably works out in the end with enough talking)

Asking me to define if something is romantic is like asking me to pin down the true form of the Human Soul. Like dawg i dont know how to do that i dont even know if that shit is real. there are merely actions and their constructed societal categories. If i tell you I think they kiss sometimes does that clear it up? (It shouldn't, obviously, but you get what I mean)

But yeah. Gestures broadly. Shipping an ace (and maybe even aroace based on some shit that little fella says) character like this means it comes with an essay. Because it necessarily interfaces with their nonstandard mode of interaction in that arena. The part where its weirdo fucking ♠ ♥ ♦ ♣ selfcest merely adds a layer.***

... Anyway I'll leave you with this. The mirasifloop qpr "so what is.... romance?" discussion sessions are probably downright dialectical aren't they. Feelings Buddies discuss the phrase "Self-Love" 23467324235 dead 3 injured

*i do have like . 2 wips. that would. include this kind of behaviour explicitly. but i simply have not gotten around to them yet. and also don't worry neither of them are purely fluff both of them still have an air of worrying fuckedupedness about them. yay !

** inkeeping with my "geared for maximal conflict" mind, this can be flavoured with some "technically nobody can say it's not canon, I guess?" during-the-game Sifloop. By handing them the 'started leaning on each other for comfort more blatantly toward the end of a4' thing, since, well, I think exploring the "Loop expected at least one of them to be dead by the end of this/Loop never expected this to end, and thus began filling in that 'Lover' role as comfort/pity/selfishness/mercy given their knowledge that Isabeau is forever out of reach for both of/at least one of them" angle is... Well it's certainly fuckin' compelling that's for sure. Like oops, you let the timeloop malaise get to you and maybe started a trist because you thought you'd be dead before there'd be any lasting consequences. Here's those consequences, motherfucker !! But you won't catch me putting that explicitly in my comics because I don't want to change anything about the raw text of canon when I'm exploring its consequences. However, nothing I do is Incompatible with this read. And I enjoy making things more tortured so. Shrugs and hands this to you. Be free. (....x)

*** those of you that know what i mean by this just had all of it click just now didnt you. lol.

[mackmp3]

actually i dont think it would take much for mulder to get bicurious

im going to be so real here i think mulder would start getting bicurious in the labyrinth

[fairyhaos]

how seventeen react to their s/o's grandma hobbies

requested by anon!

masterlist

seungcheol

my man goes bird watching with you. does he get a little embarrassed when you deck out in full bird-watching gear and peer through your binoculars at the trees while making fascinated noises? yeah, but he also finds it rather endearing. knows nothing about birds, and doesn't even try learning bc he knows he'll be hopeless at it anyway, so he's sitting next to you for hours with no clue what's going on. but at the end of it, you're packing up with a bright beam on your face, delighted that cheol came with you, and honestly it makes it all so, so worth it

jeonghan

see, here's the thing. he's not allowed to tease you for your countless puzzles, and you're not allowed to tease him for his countless lego sets. it's a mutual agreement. sometimes, you'll have days where you both sit down with your respective crafts, poring over them individually, sometimes with music on, often in silence. and then jeonghan will bring up some interesting thing he heard the other day, and the both of you will start gossiping like old ladies (or teenage girls?) the entire time, and honestly, those times are the highlights of your day

joshua

he's banned from using your yarn or your knitting needles for anything ever, because one time he somehow stabbed your couch cushions and shredded them to bits. (you're still now sure how that happened. he won't tell you.) but sometimes, he'll see you knitting in bed and smile, before slipping off somewhere and returning with his guitar, and those are the softest nights that remain ingrained in your memory, where you knit stupidly tiny socks for joshua and he serenades you with 'sunday morning' on loop

junhui

honestly, he's just utterly fascinated. several of your cross-stitching projects are stored in the fancy glass cabinet in your living room, and sometimes you'll catch him staring at them when he thinks you're in your room, wide-eyed in wonder. he saw you making all of these pieces, saw you make every single one of those stitches, but he's still so amazed at how beautiful the end product is. you gifted him an intricate piece of a moon and flowers for his birthday, and he still calls it the most precious thing he owns

hoshi

this man takes your collection of tiny european spoons very seriously. seungkwan teases him, saying that you've turned him into a grandma too, but he ignores the younger guy because your spoons are important to you, so they're important to him too. polishes them for you when you're away. asks for updates on your spoons while he's away on tour. helps name each and every spoon, and when he comes back from going abroad, he greets you with a grin and a kiss and a new spoon for your collection

wonwoo

??? he's so confused bc your gardening hobby does Not sound very grandma-ish to him, no matter what you say. you were initially rather awkward, very shy when telling him that you really loved gardening, but he supports u and thinks that it's such a nice hobby. wonwoo has very un-green fingers, so he always watches you tend to your garden from a good few feet away, but he can't help but smile at how earnestly you work, beaming so brightly the entire time and it's so obvious how much you love gardening

woozi

he never sees you do sudokus unless you're sitting on the couch in his studio, biting your nail and waiting for him to finish up so you can go home together. he just thinks it's really sweet, actually, and the idea of you doing the sudoku while he's agonising over his latest composition is something that he can't think of for too long because then he gets distracted by how adorable he thinks that is. you've fallen asleep over your sudoku too many times to count, and when you wake up, woozi feigns innocence to how your latest grid has suddenly magically filled itself

minghao

drinking tea isn't a fucking grandma hobby, kwon soonyoung, it's called being educated. both of you like drinking tea, going through tea ceremonies when you're both exhausted, taste testing different types of tea and commenting on the different notes and fragrances you can taste from them. he met you while on a tea tour around asia, and since then, the two of you just clicked so well, and he loves sipping sakura tea in the evenings and reminiscing on your first meeting, all those years ago

mingyu

fucking!! loves!! everything you knit for him!! the socks you knitted for him are his fluffiest sleeping socks. he Only wears the scarf you knitted for him during the winter months. one time, you gifted him a knitted sweater for his birthday and it instantly became his statement piece that he wore everywhere until it finally grew too threadbare and you had to make him a new one. the gentle clacking of your knitting needles on a saturday evening is the most relaxing sound in the world, and he's fallen asleep on your shoulder while you knit countless times

dokyeom

he has, admittedly, fallen asleep more than a handful of times while sitting next to you on the sofa as you indulge in your guilty pleasure: tv shows on antiques. he understands that it's something you find very fascinating and very interesting, but ten minutes in his eyes are getting droopy but nonono baby he's not falling asleep! he's just gonna… rest… his eyes… but then he eventually ends up dozing on your shoulder. he likes listening to you talk about your favourite episodes, though, the fondness colouring his lips as you gesture animatedly, eyes bright

seungkwan

the highlight of his sunday morning is sitting at the table with two cups of coffee ready, twiddling his thumbs and staring out of the window, waiting for you to burst in through the front door, coming back from your daily walk with the newspaper in your hands and slamming the crossword down in front of him. he loves poring over them with you, and sure, maybe he teases you about this very grandma-like hobby, but you tease him back because he's literally here doing them with you, isn't he? 

vernon

supports you in your dream to own all of the most grandma-style cardigans in the entire world. that's it. he has no other opinion. he's pretty chill with it, and don't listen to what minghao says,babe, 'cause he personally thinks that the purple and orange zigzag cardigan with aquamarine dots is the most stylish cardigan of your entire collection. sometimes unironically steals your cardigans to wear himself, because they're all so soft and so comfy and they smell like you so when he's at work, he can feel like you're there with him too <3

chan

you swear, your tomato plants love your boyfriend more than they love you, their actual owner. ever since you admitted to your boyfriend that you have a part of an allotment where you grow various fruits and veg, he's come to visit your babies and honestly, you've never seen your tomatoes flourishing as much as they are right now. does he think you're like an elderly person for tending so solemnly to some plants? yeah. but he can't exactly talk, because he loves your plants, and you two literally have skits where you pretend to be an elderly couple literally every day, so it's nothing out of the ordinary at all

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[aylasology]

Red Wine Supernova

A wand and a rabbit

TW : Threesome!mafia!ronance, gunplay, exhibitionism, degradation kink, drugs, Nancy and Robin shoot guys while fucking you 😵

divider by @kimjiho1

Robin's got you on her lap, her men discussing the latest news regarding the mafia family's inner society, and how vigilantes around the area are on patrol against them.

"Who led this hooligan into the bar?" She snarled, her voice the epitome of anger and distress as she watched the CCTV footage of last night's assault in the jazz bar they had meticulously hid in one of their headquarters. Some man in a mask holding her men at gunpoint. She couldn't hear what the man had said due to the Cctv's vantage point. "And why won't any of you answer me?!"

You would've found a good answer if her fingers didn't curl inside you, so slow and agonising as she took notice of how your face twisted in pleasure. She pumps it in and out in slow and subtle strokes, pinching your clit everytime she spoke. That low, gravelly voice that held power over the men that sat across her in her dimly lit office. To be in the arms of a mafia family's boss is one thing, but to be her own little playtoy is another.

She's got a gun on her free hand, pointing to the consigliere of the group. "You know, this gun's fairly new...got it from my last trip to Germany, poor thing hasn't seen much action..." She taunted, flaunting the pistol as she watched his face twist in horror. "...maybe you'd give it quite a show, or...you remember who you work for and what you're gonna have to do to keep living."

The meeting goes on like this, taunts and shooting blanks to the walls to prove a point, the pistol is sharp, quick enough for Robin's liking. She doesn't miss how you bite your lip when she swings the gun around her finger, doesn't miss how you clench tighter when she pulls the trigger.

As her men leave, she lifts you off her lap.

"Bend over darling.." she whispered against your ear, pushing documents and files and books all to the side. You can hear the sounds of a strap, a thin piece of fabric over her slacks - her strap on. As you bend and your skirt stripped off you, you feel her thrust in. Your chest pressed against the cool surface of her desk as she started to pound a little faster. Whines and moans slip from your mouth so effortlessly.

"So fucking needy...so loud for mommy and I've barely done anything...fucking slut.." she grunted, pushing your head against the table, moans muffled by the rough, slightly calloused hands that forced you to feel mahogany wood press your cheeks.

But it's not enough.

And Robin knows it.

As Robin thrusts into you, she grabs for her telephone. You couldn't hear much of what she muttered, she was always so quiet when she murmured. A barely audible 'Nancy Wheeler' slipping from her lips.

Nancy Wheeler, Robin's fiancé for a year now. You were the side piece of the infamous couple. The playtoy for the couple's needs whenever the other was away.

You never had them at the same time.

Until now.

"Feels good, doesn't it, sweet girl?"

The voice who cooed so wasn't Robin, too busy rutting into you and keeping your head pushed against the desk to be sweet to you. A cold, smooth finger reaches to fist your hair and lift your head up. Nancy Wheeler...and a shit-eating grin on her face.

"Answer me, you like what she's doing to you, sweetheart? Like how she's fucking you senseless?" The woman teased. A faint whimper leaving your lips. The vulgarity of her words makes you clench tighter against Robin. "I'm gonna need more than mewls, honey."

"Y-yes.." you stammered, drool slipping from your lips. Nancy greets this with a chuckle, her soft lips meeting yours with a gentle kiss. Such a juxtaposition from Robin, grunts and quick thrusts from behind you.

Nancy stands up, the girl grabbing her own strap, tying it around her pants.

"You're too rough on her, my love.." she cooed, a soft hand on Robin's cheek.

"Honey, I paid to be rough on her."

They're kissing.

Kissing as if they haven't been taking turns on you for hours now, as if they haven't put you in so many different positions. Their fingers and the plastic cock dangling in between their thighs soaked from your wetness. And they're kissing on top of you, your mouth full and occupied with Nancy, and your soaking entrance occupied with Robin.

Your ministries such as your clothes had all been strewn off your body and onto the floor, their saliva falling in between the hills of your breasts. Robin leans down to give it a lick. "Can't say anything, can you, princess?"

She smirked as you whined, pulling out as she grabbed a hold of your knees, pushing it up to your chest and readies herself to go back in when two of her men barged in - the underboss and the consigliere.It didn't matter how important they were to the system, they broke one of Robin's well-established rules : you don't just barge into her office.

She doesn't fail to laugh when you clench and roll your hips against her as both women shoot the men. Nancy's bullet landed on the arm, Robin shooting a headshot.

"What is it this time, darling?" Nancy replied softly, her plastic dildo bulging in the skin of your throat. "You like the violence, don't you?" An eager nod comes off as your reply, moaning and writhing underneath the two girls.

"Fucking whore.." Robin grunted, grabbing for her pistol. She removes the ammo, puts the safety on as well knowing you've been nothing but good, no need for threatening her sweet girl's life. The cold metallic surface of the muzzle pressed against the warmth of your throat, still in firm as both girls continued to thrust into you.

"I'm not letting this go until we're done with you."

[konigsblog]

hi!! i love ur stuff so so much but would you be able to do something for m reader or transmale reader?? i dont mind which characters (but soap or gaz would be nice) but i know you more sort of specialize in könig, so characters doesn't really matter.

but like, m reader or transmale reader with cnc please 🫶

again love your stuff and completely understandable if you cant :)

Creep!Gaz and Creep!Soap thots™

Soap x Gax x Male!Reader

TW: NON-CON/RAPE, STALKING, MALE ANATOMY. MDNI 18+

Thank you for your request, my lovely :3 I have been receiving a couple requests for Transmale!Reader, so I think now is a good time to remind you guys that I don't write for Transgender!Readers !

It was Johnny's idea. The pair had been stalking you nonstop for months now, learning your routine so they could constantly watch you from afar. They'd watch you shower after a mission in the communal showers, scrubbing off all the dirt and grime that layered your soft skin. You were their newest recruit, and their newest obsession.

You thought you could trust the two men. After all, they were your trustworthy teammates, what reason did you have to fear the pair? After a night out drinking after a successful mission, you felt yourself growing more and more dizzy, with your head throbbing and your vision becoming blurry. The two had offered to walk you back to the base, a kind gesture in your eyes. Although, they were simply looking for some private time with you, away from the watchful eyes of their Captain.

Instead of being left in your barracks to deal with your headache in peace, the men decided to have a little bit of fun with you. You could feel Gaz's hand wander over your crotch repeatedly, rubbing your clothed cock ‘til you were hissing out drunkenly at the ache between your legs. You could hear the sound of their pants unzipping as you shifted between unconsciousness and consciousness. All you remember was the splitting and agonising sensation of Johnny forcing his sweaty, meaty cock inside and the rough, familiar Scottish accent in your ear.

You couldn't control your tears as you wept and cried pathetically beneath the experienced, older men, who had years of experience in the military beneath their belt and fuckton of control and authority over rookies like yourself.

“Quit cryin’, lad. Man up, aye? Don’t be such a fuckin’ coward...” The Scotsman let out, his voice hoarse and frustrated at your constant squirming.

You felt Johnny's scarred, rough hands wander your body, his blunt fingernails digging into your hips as he forced your rear skyward and your face into your pillow. Gaz's fingers nestled in your hair and tilted your head towards him while Soap ploughed relentlessly into your tight asshole, with one hand on the small of your back and the other jerking your leaking cock off, taunting you for enjoying such vile treatment. You could feel Soap's cockhead smack and prod against your insides, silencing your pained and horrified pleas.

Your vision was blurry and your bones felt weak. Kyle wasn't gentle in the slightest, as he pushed his swollen, bulbous dick into your mouth, fucking your tight throat ruthlessly. Your lips became puffy around Kyle's lengthy girth, with tears rolling down your cheeks uncontrollably.

“Don’t think you’re fit for the military if you can’t handle a little roughenin’ up, no?” Gaz chucked teasingly, cocking his head at you while both men violated your weak body for their own amusement, arousal, and entertainment.

Who would believe you, anyways? A silly recruit like you... You were drunk, who would care for you? You're just attempting to tear down the reputation they've built for themselves, aren't you?

[miryum]

"Clark's Phone Number"

Summary: Detective!Jason Todd x detective!Reader based on Jake and Amy’s relationship

Series Warnings: Swearing, descriptions of violence (but nothing descriptive), guns and other police stuff

Series Masterlist

Cass and Steph’s phones pinged at the same time. Steph scanned the message then called over to Damian, “shouldn’t we be using the other group chat for this?”

Damian glared and typed something on his phone. The message was: I doubt we need Richard or Timothy for this revelation. Are they truly as invested in this cause as we are?

Dick created the group chat in the first place, Steph reminded her friends.

“We’re sitting a couple feet away from each other,” Cass deadpanned. “Why are we even using the group chat?”

Because it’s more entertaining, Damian wrote while maintaining eye contact with Cass.  

Anyone else notice that Todd and L/n aren’t here? Dick stopped their bickering by typing away in the larger, all-encompassing, precinct group chat that was titled Operation Lovebird. The group chat with everyone, including Y/n and Jason was graciously named Practically Hell, courtesy of Y/n, due to the six-six being “only one six away from Hell.”

Al Ghul was just mentioning it in The Best Ones, Cass replied. 

Why do you guys even *have* another group chat? Tim asked.

Because we’re ‘The Best Ones.’ Obviously. Steph added the eye-roll emoji.

Just tell us what’s happening with Operation Lovebird!!! Dick demanded. 

All we know is that they’re both gone, Steph said. 

If you were better detectives, you would’ve noticed the culprits entering the copy room together. Captain Wayne’s contact suddenly popped up on everyone’s screen.

A plethora of messages popped up after his comment, including:

Dick: Culprits???!!!!! Brucie, why???

Tim: Why is Captain in this chat again? No offence, sir.

Wayne: None taken.

Steph: omg are they…

Steph: … you know?

Cass: Fucking?

Steph: NO!!!

Steph: Smooching, obvi.

Damian: Brown, please. Stop maiming my eyes with your typed words. 

Tim: Though, seriously, what are they doing?

Wayne: Pull the security tapes and meet me in my office.

There was a scrambling around the precinct as the detectives (and Damian) ran to Wayne’s office. “Does anyone have the surveillance tapes?” the captain asked. The detectives glanced around and slowly shook their heads. Wayne groaned and commanded, “Cain, grab the tapes.”

Once Cass did as she was directed, Tim used Wayne’s computer and pulled the tapes onto the screen.  

On the tape, Jason stood in the copy room, glancing around anxiously as he fiddled senselessly with the machine. Y/n’s figure appeared on screen and she shuffled into the room, calling out to anyone who would listen, “yeah, I'm just gonna make some copies in here. In the copy room. Heh. Perfect cover. Nailed it.”

“Hey…” Jason waved awkwardly to his coworker. “Hi… Y/n…”

“Jason,” Y/n stepped towards him, smiling devilishly. “Why’d you wanna meet me here?” Her grin showed that she knew exactly why Jason wanted to talk to her. “To boink? At work?!” She gasped dramatically. “Todd, I expected better of you!”

Jason’s cheeks flamed up and Y/n congratulated herself on making the buff, six foot tall detective stutter. “No…” He said, “I wanted to talk about uh, Brian and Lacy.”

“Ah… yeah. Brian and Lacy,” Y/n nodded her head, demeanour shifting. “What about them? I thought they were a pretty cute couple.” 

“So did I,” Jason admitted softly. He took a step forward until Y/n could simply reach out and touch him. He had a faint bruise on the underside of his jaw from an incident with a criminal half a week ago. He stared down at his colleague, his gaze filled with agonised hope. “Brian wanted to ask Lacy on an official date.”

Y/n’s heart was being cleaved in half and sewn back up again by Jason’s own hands. “What about Brian’s old girlfriend, Daisy? Lacy was pretty sure that Brian was making googly-eyes at Daisy during their last meeting.”

“Just to be clear, Daisy being Rose?” 

“Yeah.”

“Brian went on a couple dates with Daisy,” Jason continued, “but soon realised that Daisy couldn’t hold a small, dying match to Y/n’s burning, beautiful fire.”

“I thought her name was Lacy,” Y/n whispered. Jason’s chest rose and fell and he moved even closer to her. Jason reached up towards her face and swiped the pad of his thumb along her cheek. He angled Y/n’s face up so he could finally look into her eyes with the redamancy and forelsket that had been stored away for so many years. 

“Yeah, well,” a corner of his lips curved into a knowing smirk. “I just made Lacy blush, which is usually an impossible feat.”

“You flatter me, Brian,” Y/n said. “It’s clear that you take your words straight from a romance novel. You spend too much time reading.” She reached up and brushed a tuft of hair away from Jason’s face. Her words were teasing, but her actions were careful.

“My words aren’t from a romance novel,” Jason reassured her. “They’re from the heart- yeah, no, I hear it now. A little too cheesy, huh?”

Y/n shrugged and said, “I rather enjoyed it.” She relished the feeling of Jason’s touch on her skin. She hoped to feel it more often. “Your kissing could improve, though,” she referenced their impromptu kiss at the restaurant. 

Jason chuckled lightly. “I doubt that. You seemed to like it a lot.” He spoke lightly while memorising her face. “So, what do you say to a date, darling?”

“Darling?” Y/n asked. “I thought I was the one with the nicknames.” 

Jason shook his head. “I think I’ve found your ten.”

“And now you’ve stolen my quips. Love, you’ve already stolen my heart. Soon I’m gonna see you in the interrogation room.”

“I bet you’d love to see me in handcuffs.” 

Y/n’s mouth fell open and she let out a shocked laugh. “Mr. Todd! That’s no way to speak to a lady!” 

Jason’s hand was still cupping Y/n’s cheek and his other hand drew up to trace meaningless patterns on her forearm. “Does this mean you say ‘yes’ to the date?”

“What if it makes working together awkward?” Y/n’s hand clutched onto the fabric of his shirt.

“Then we’ll be awkward together,” he answered easily. “I want this too much for a little awkwardness to get in the way. I want you too much, Y/n.”

“I wanna try this,” she decided after a moment. “I want you too. Tonight? At eight?”

Jason nodded quickly, afraid she would take it back. “That sounds absolutely perfect.”

Y/n stared at him and she couldn’t seem to place the expression on his face. It had a softness that looked suspiciously like love. His cheeks held a pink tint and his eyes gazed down at her and Jason knew he would spend the rest of his life holding her if he could. After a moment, Y/n realised, heart jumping, that Jason looked like he was in love. “We should probably get back to work before they realise we’re missing,” Y/n said slowly.

Jason nodded and moved towards the door, not before taking Y/n in his arms and pressing a lingering kiss to her forehead. “Should we tell the rest of the team? he asked quietly. 

“Probably not,” Y/n said. “They would get way too involved.”

“Should we tell them we’re spying on them?” Tim asked from inside Wayne’s office where the rest of the six-six was still crowded around the computer which displayed Y/n and Jason.

A chorus of ‘no’s and shushing erupted from everyone else and Steph squealed, “oh! They’re finally together! I’m over the moon! They’re adorable!”

“Brown, will your fangirling get in the way of your work?” Wayne asked, smiling slightly.

“Yes, definitely!” 

Wayne sighed. “Understandable.”

“Well, what are you looking for?” Jason asked. “Symbolism and overall themes or simply personal enjoyment?”

“Both,” Y/n took a lick of her ice cream, legs swinging happily under the park bench.

“The Great Gatsby for symbolism and overall themes,” he answered after a minute of thinking. “And then my favourite book is Pride and Prejudice.” 

“Yeah, I definitely knew that one,” Y/n nodded. “You’ve read it a thousand times in the precinct.” She shook her head, “I’ve tried to get through that book, man, but I don’t get the hype over it. Granted, I’ve never been able to get through the first five chapters.”

Jason began ranting about Pride and Prejudice before shaking his head in defeat and asking, “what’s your favourite book? Please don’t let it be Goddess Girls or Geronimo Stilton or some other children's series.”

“No, although those were great series.” She pointed her spoon at Jason accusingly. “As I’ve grown up and matured, it’s either The Fault in Our Stars, Memoirs of a Geisha, All Quiet on the Western Front, or Ella Minnow Pea.”

Jason stared at her and finally said, “those are all very different books. Honestly, I’m surprised you’ve even read four books.”

Y/n punched him in the arm. “How dare you! I’m very well-read! You should see the length of my Ao3 history!” 

Jason laughed loudly and cradled his ‘hurt’ arm. “I’m sorry I underestimated you, Y/n.”

“You better be!” Y/n crossed her arms before finishing off her ice cream. “Now I’m not gonna have sex with you until our fifth date.”

Jason let out a dramatic groan. “I don’t know if I can wait that long, sweetheart.” 

“Keep calling me ‘sweetheart’ and you may not have to.”

“How was the daaaaaate?” Steph used her wheely chair to roll up to Y/n’s desk, grinning cheekily. She waved a finger in Jason and Y/n’s direction. “What is this, huh? Casual? Serious? I need to know how to make fun of you. Also, please get married in a barn ‘cause I have a lot of jokes that are centred around that.” 

“How’d you know about the date?” Jason asked.

“You guys are officially dating?” Dick was walking by when he paused and placed a firm hand on Jason’s chair.

Y/n looked at Jason helplessly. “...yes?” she said quietly. “Maybe?”

Dick and Steph exchanged a look. “This isn’t good,” Dick said.

“We said we weren't gonna tell anyone,” Y/n explained. “It's very new, and we're still figuring it out, you know?”

“Enough.” Dick stated. “Look, I love love, but I also love maintaining a professional work environment. As your commanding officer, I’m kinda disappointed in both of you.” He bent down and added in a stage-whisper, “but as you loving friend who sees himself as a father-or-brother figure to both of you, I adore you two dating and hope that it works out. Kori and I have a big binder left over from our wedding full of ideas and samples we’d be happy to lend you. Please lemme give a toast at the wedding.”

”I already have mine written,” Steph admitted excitedly.

Y/n’s head fell into her hands and Jason cursed Dick under his breath. Dick had to admit, Jason’s curses were getting more creative.

Bonus Scene: 

“You guys have a group chat dedicated to us?!” Y/n cried out. 

“Why wouldn’t we?” Dick chuckled. “It’s where we share blackmail, cute updates, and random stuff related to you guys.”

Y/n snatched Damian’s phone away, the closest person to her and much to his protest. “I can’t believe-” She scrolled through the messages before realising, “wait, I’m sorry, what are our contact names, Dami?”

“It’s simple.” Damian explained, “Richard is Moby Dick. Todd is Bamboozled from when he was drunk and said it out of context.  Drake is obviously CCA which stands for Computer/Coffee Addict. Y/n is Da Best Homie because she set up her own contact and I haven’t gotten around to changing it. Stephanie is Titus because she reminds me of my valiant and excitable dog. Cain is Cassandra Cain and Wayne is Captain Bruce Wayne. I also have Clark’s number and he’s listed as Mr. Clark Kent.”

“I don’t know whether to be offended or unsurprised,” Dick mumbled.

“At least you’re a classic novel,” Steph crossed her arms. “I’m named after a dog.”

“Steph, you’re literally the epitome of a joyful dog.” 

“Aw, thanks!”

“You have Clark’s number?” Y/n murmured to Damian, “can I have it?” 

“No.”

Not my fav way to do it and I would probably rewrite it, but it's already on ao3 so... *shrug*