#had a look around my room and it doesn't LOOK like anything can get IN my room but NNNNNNNNNNNNNOPE

[crunchystarz]

Hii! Thanks for clarifying your character limit! ＼(^o^)／

I wanted to request Housewardens hearing the readers voice for the first time, even tho they thought reader was completely mute. Like the reader never communicated verbally and normally always talks in sign language and then they suddenly hear them speak, even if their voice is rather quiet. When asked why they never communicate verbally, if they can speak, they answer that talking verbally is really exhausting for them and not something they like doing, which is also the main reason they learned sign language.

Take your time and thank you!! (´^ω^`)

"YOU CAN SPEAK?!?

Housewardens (separately) x GN!reader

Summary: You're a quiet person in the sense you don't talk ever. People learned to communicate with you in other ways however what happens when you speak around the housewardens suddenly.

Cw- Reader isn't explicitly mentioned to be yuu, Could be read as romantic or platonic, slight crack (ish) , Leona calls you little mouse.

A/N : I'm backkk from my hiatus that was way longer than expected Sorry this took SO long to get out and a bit shorter than I'd like, I just hate Azul so much that writing for him had me losing my mind/j(all jokes aside I had some personal stuff AND school was alot LMAO so I just couldn't find the time but I hope you enjoy regardless) (⁠≧⁠▽⁠≦⁠)-your fav vamp

Riddle Rosehearts

The redheaded boy was lost in thought. He subconsciously tapped his foot impatiently. Ace and Deuce had promised to be on time. Of course, in traditional adeuce fashion, the two are nowhere to be seen.

The housewarden grumbles to himself. He doesn't hear when footsteps pitter-patter into the room. You watch him quietly as usual. You're quick to realize that he's busy in his head and didn't notice your presence. it was hard to get his attention whenever he's like this.

"Why, Good morning, Riddle!"

A quiet and almost meek voice catches him off guard. He quickly turns to the owner of the voice, only to be met with you a teasing smile was plastered on your face.

His round gray eyes somehow got bigger. His face full of shock. He clears his throat, trying to remain his usual professional self. A hand finds his chest.

He had never heard you speak before. It didn't make communication any different for him since he already had some prior knowledge of sign language. You were more than happy when you found out. So hearing your actual voice had taken him back a bit.

"[Name], you sure did startle me there …I wasn't aware you could —"

"Speak?" You responded. Again, voice quiet just like before.

Riddle let out a hum before nodding his head. He glanced away, his cheeks tinged the lightest shade of pink. “Yes, that. I just…simply hadn’t heard you before."

You chuckled a bit at his flustered appearance and leaned forward a bit with your hands behind your back. “I didn’t have anything important to say,” you murmured."… It's more ideal for me to stay quiet," you continued with a shrug. He hummed again, not making eye contact.

“…You were waiting for Ace and Deuce,” you said after a beat, the corner of your mouth twitching just a little. Taking amusement in Riddles stunned state, “Should I scold them for you?”

That earned a laugh. A real one, short but still genuine. Riddle looked at you. Not used to your voice one bit. You could see it on his face even if he tried to remain unfazed

“Tempting,” he said, adjusting the cuff of his sleeve. “But I’m sure I’ll have the pleasure myself soon enough.”

You couldn’t help but laugh to yourself, placing a hand over your mouth as you did. The sound of loud footsteps started to rapidly approach. There in the doorway stood Ace and Deuce, both wearing an awkward expression. Clearly out of breath, as they had ran. Riddle looked anything but impressed, arms crossed.

“You're late,” He spoke, placing a hand on his hip. Ace let out a nervous chuckle while Deuce just smiled sheepishly. You giggled before nodding and pointing to the door. The three understood you were taking your leave. They waved. Before you could fully make your way out, you turned back.

“ Go easy on 'em, Riddle,” is all you said before walking away. You wished you could see the shock on their face. The housewarden couldn't help but chuckle at your antics.

Leona Kingscholar

In the botanical garden the lion beast man lay basking in the sun. He rolled over from his side to his back letting his tail fall into his lap. His ears flickered at a sound. He grumbles one eye opening.

"I know you're here herbivore" He spoke turning his head in the direction you were coming from. You poked your head from behind a bush.

Since you didn't talk you and Leona made up a small "game" over some time. How close you could get to catching him off guard. You often try and sneak up on him but with his heightened sense well almost everything it never really worked. He'd always catch you by the sound of your movements or your general scent.

You learned to be a bit quicker and quieter on your feet but turns out you weren't careful enough. You pouted before walking over and plopping down next to him.

"you're never gonna surprise me by sneaking up on me like that you know" He chuckled, voice cocky. You couldn't help but raise a brow. You poked the inside of your cheek, before an idea hit you. Maybe you didn't have to sneak up on him to catch him off guard.

"is that so?"

His emerald eyes quickly shot open. His ears laid flat. A soft voice. Quiet but very much there. Leona looked around but there was no one else around.

"That was you?" He said. Clearly he knew the answer he was just still in a bit of shock. Baffled even. You nodded, you couldn't help the smile that tugged at the corner of your lips.

"Maybe" you said placing a finger on your lips. Forging a fake coy smile. The brunette rolled his eyes. His tail playfully smacks you causing you to scoot back and glare at him. He just closes his eyes and lays back down.

"I guess I finally win" you spoke again hands falling into your lap. That earns a deep chuckle to emerge from his chest.

"Dirty move herbivore, but I can't help but respect the play" he said with a shrug "Didn't know ya had a voice thought you were just a silent lil mouse " He continued, voice teasing. You huffed and sat back.

"Why haven't you talked before, thought you were mute this whole time" Leona said breaking the silence.

"I just never really felt like it, it's always been exhausting me I suppose" You mumbled. He let out a hum in acknowledgement.

"Can't blame you, people are a pain to talk to— you almost gave me a heart attack though don't go 'round just scarin' me like that" The lion teased.

You giggled before flopping your body next to his. "You just sound like a sore loser to me Kingscholar" You huffed smiling. He opened one eye to look down at you. Eyes closed, snuggling closer into his side. He couldn't help the small smirk that tugged at the corners of his lips.

"if I'm anything it's not that little mouse" He responded , shifting to flick your forehead. You moved back a bit and stuck out your tongue. "What you do like my voice" you jokingly retaliated.

“Nah, your voice suits you,” he added casually before relaxing his body and letting an arm drape over you like a blanket. He soon felt himself drift back into a slumber syncing his breathing with your own.

Azul Ashengrotto

Azul stared at the paper in from of him for some time. He kept pushing the pen down with a click. His mind seemingly wondered. He needed help reviews on which new dish he should add to the mostro lounge menu. However the tweels were not any help.

He couldn't seem to get anyone to give an honest opinion. Maybe he should go to Ruggie? He'd do anything for free food. He'd have to track him down first. Sevens know what work Leona has him running around doing. He groaned and placed his head in his hands. It wasn't anything to get work up over he told himself. He'd figure it out.

As if the sevens heard him the answer to his problems walked through the door. You waved from the doorway. He smiled and sat up.

"Ah [Name]! Perfect timing" He spoke clasping his hands together. You tilted your head.

You somehow end up in mostro lounge sitting with three meals in front of you. The first two were okay. Azul slid over the third plate.

He watched as your eyes basically turned into stars. He smiled at your reaction wtched as devoured the food in front of you.

"I presume you enjoy that one the most yes?"

"it's delicious!"

"Yes I s- [Name] did you just speak" Azul said with a smile still on his face. On the outside he was calm and collected. On the inside everything went off balance.

You nodded and swallowed what was left in your mouth. "Yeah it's so good this one should get added!" You chirped.

He clears his throat trying to ignore the way so many questions flooded his head.Azul sat back slowly, hands folding in front of him like he was trying to ground himself. “Forgive me, but… I was under the impression that you were nonverbal.”

You looked down at your plate, fingers brushing over the edge. “I usually am. Talking’s… hard. Not like physically, just—draining” you explained.

Azul’s brows knit together, he just hummed"…I see,” he finally said, placing a hand in his chin. “Then I must thank you. You chose to use your voice here. With me.”

You nodded, still a little shy, and Azul’s lips formed a faint smile—genuine this time, not his usual polished expression.

“In that case,” he said, picking up a pen and notepad, “I’d be a poor host if I didn’t let your taste decide our next special.”

Kalim Al Asim

The house warden tugged at your sleeve as he led you somewhere. Where? You don't know— you never know with Kalim honestly. He wanted to show you something he said. You were silent the whole walk just letting him tug you along

Kalim was used to your silence. From the moment you met, he never once made you feel strange for only using sign language. He tried to pick up some sign language turnng it into game...even if he wasn't the best. He'd cheer every time he got a phrase right. He never pushed, never asked why you didn’t speak. He just… accepted you. He never expected you to speak.

He was so excited he seemed a bit zoned out only having tunnel vision for where he needed to go. You had a bit of a hard time keeping up with his fast pace..

"Kalim slow down!" You yelped. You had tripped on the uneven flooring, stumbling forward slightly. He quickly let go and turned all his attention to check if you were alright. He gave you a sympathetic look.

"oh I'm sorry! You okay [Name?]" Kalim asked with a pout. You nodded and he smiled and let out a sigh of relief.

"That's good sorry sometimes I get carried away" He chuckled. It got quite for a bit. Then it hit him. Gears finally started to turn. Kalim froze completely. His red eyes went huge.

"You talk?!" He shouted. You covered your mouth as you tried not to laugh at his dramatic reaction.

"That is so cool!" Kalim beamed. He grabbed your hands lifting them a bit. It was such a small thing for him to be excited about. Reacting as if you speaking was mind blowing.

"it's really not that big of a deal, I just don't like talking all too much, it's a bit draining" you laughed nervously. Kalim paused, squeezing your hands gently.

“Then don’t ever feel like you have to. I love your signing! But—thank you. For trust and choosing to share your voice with me 'n stuff ” He ranted, his smile softened, radiating nothing but pure warmth. You nodded and let him proceed to drag you along. The whole time he was asking you questions, swinging your arms back and forth.

Vil Schönheit

Vil hummed to himself as he applied the finishing touches on your face. You shudder as the cool liquid eyeliner was brushed in the creases of your eyes. He pulled away and examined you, hand gently gripping your chin and angling your head where he desired.

He smiled before turning his attention to the earrings that sat hooked up on the vanity. His eyebrows furrowed as he looked back and forth between the two pairs. You tilt your head and sign 'whats wrong'. Vil just lets out a sigh and shakes his head. He places a hand on his chin.

"It's nothing it just appears I am having trouble deciding which pair would complete the look more " He finally spoke. You met out a hum and shifted in your seat to get a better look at the jewelry. Perfectly manicured hands lifted the jewels up and placed either one of them on each side of your face.

"What do you think [Name]?" He asked looking for your reaction. He expected you to point at whichever one you decided you liked more instead you surprised him.

"I think the purple pair compliments the eyeshadow you choose more" You explained, voice soft.

"I suppose you're core— erk"

You had never seen Vil make such an expression not even in the movies he acts in. He blinked slowly before gaining his composer once more. This wasn't the oddest thing to happen suddenly in his career. Regardless hearing your voice understandably surprised him. Clearing his throat he sat down the earrings.

"You sure did catch me off guard, Darling" He said with a little chuckle. You felt a cheeky smile spread across your face. You sat back and shrugged forging innocence.

"You react as if you haven't heard my voice before" you teased. The model raised a brow at your antics.

"Yes almost as if" he replied sarcastically. You let out a giggle as he threaded the earrings with the purple gems through your ear lobe. "Talking is simply a chore no?" You said snuggly as he pulled back.

"Can't say I disagree with that statement, and your choice of jewelry either" He spoke with a smile.

Idia Shroud

You laid in Idia's lap listening to the sound of his controller. You had started to drift off as the night stretched on. Idia had been gaming for quite a while. You were originally watching him play as usual but soon you found yourself laying your head on his lap as he still continued to play his game.

Idia didn't talk much on the regular but in his element he could yap up a storm. It was perfect for you two since you didn't talk at all and he didn't like much conversation but you still listened when he did end up talking. Nights where he'd end up mumbling mostly to himself and you listened weren't uncommon.

You cracked one of your eyes open. The housewarden kept grumbling about being stuck at the level he was currently on. Too stubborn to look at any tutorials and was planning on going through trial and error. Luckily you knew how to gety past the level having already played a while back.

It was rare for you to know something about a game Idia didn't. Sleepily you shifted and pointed at the character on his screen." You have to go back the way you came, the parkour was supposed to be impossible " you mumbled before yawning.

Idia let out a yelp at the sudden voice. He looked around before looking down at you. You lay smug and very very sleepy in his lap. Shock was plastered on his face. He couldn't even form proper words just stuttered.

"[Name]?!?" He finally got out. Yellow eyes wide as ever. You shifted to where your cheek rested on his thigh. You simply hummed in response.

"You talk ! " He exclaimed. You didn't respond properly just nodded and snuggled closer. He let out a huff still completely baffled that you had said anything at all. He couldn't question you as you had already fallen asleep by the time he finally collected himself.

Malleus Draconia

The dragon fae quietly watched as you struggled to get a book from a high shelf. You had come to the school library to find a book on a certain plant for professor Crewel's class however the book you needed was unfortunately out of reach.

"Struggling Child of a man?" A cool voice said as Malleus suddenly appeared behind you. Startling you enough to cause you to jump. You turned and glared at him, narrowing your eyes. He just smiled showing off his fangs.

"Apologizes I did not intend to scare you" He chuckled. His eyes wandered back up to the book you had been struggling to obtain just a few fleeting moments ago. Slender fingers easily grabbed the hook and brought it down to your level.

"I believe this was what you were looking for correct" Malleus said with a slight amount of mischief lacing his words. You rolled your eyes and gently took the book from him.

"For a prince you sure are cheeky when you want to be huh" You mumbled. Now it was time for him to be startled . His green eyes shot open. You smirked at his expression. You tried to keep down the giggle that was going to erupt from your chest.

"I wasn't aware you spoke..." he mumbled suddenly the teasing Malleus disappeared. "Well speaking is very tiring do I don't do it much" you replied simply. He let out a hum and nodded his head.

"And my teasing behavior was enough for you to speak" he mumbled almost to himself. You giggled and rolled your eyes, gently flicking his arm. "Yes"

"I am truly honored that you decide to use your voice around myself" he dramatically said. You sighed and just smiled at his sincerity.

MASTERLIST

[thisapplepielife]

Written for the @corrodedcoffinfest Somewhere Over the Rainbow pop-up event.

written all over his knuckles

Prompt: Violet | Song: The Great War by Taylor Swift | Word Count: 1318 | Rating: T | POV: Steve | Relationship(s): Steddie | CW: Canon Typical Violence, Language | Tags: Canon Divergence, Future Fic, Established Relationship, Hurt/Comfort, Eddie Munson Lived (And So Did Jason Carver)

my knuckles were bruised like violets

Steve holds his hands under the running water. It fucking stings. Split, mottled skin, bruises already forming. There's no way he's gonna be able to hide this from Eddie. What he did is written all over his knuckles.

His hands ache, and he deserves that. He was stupid. This was so stupid.

But that asshole had it coming, and when he mouthed off, Steve lost his fucking mind. Taking matters into his own hands. For Eddie. For Gareth. For Chrissy Cunningham, because Steve's goddamn certain dating him hadn't been a walk in the park for her.

For everyone that had to listen to his bullshit lies about Eddie all those years ago. Whipping the town into a frenzy that nearly got Eddie killed. Steve will never, ever forgive him for that. He can call Steve all the names he wants, but once he brought Eddie into it, it was fucking game over.

Steve doesn't play around when it comes to Eddie and his safety. His happiness. And if Jason Carver wanted to try and threaten that again, well, this is what had to happen. 

Coming back here had been a mistake, Eddie was right. It was never gonna be enough time, enough distance, to darken the doorstep of Hawkins again.

It's not home. Not anymore. 

Not even if people they love are still here.

Steve finally won another fight, Henderson would be so proud, but he doesn't feel like gloating. He feels embarrassed that Eddie's gonna know that he lost his goddamn mind, fighting like they're teenagers again. 

They're not. A long way from it.

And beating the shit out of a middle aged insurance agent Jason Carver really isn't anything to brag about. 

Hopper's definitely gonna get a call, retired or not, and Steve's not looking forward to that conversation. Having to explain how only twelve hours of being in Hawkins was enough to force him down into the muck of the low road.

Eddie slams back into the hotel room, and Steve puts his hands behind his back instinctively.

And Eddie grins, teasing, "Whatcha hidin'? Something good?"

Steve shakes his head, and holds his hands out. Showing him. He might as well get this over with.

"Shit," Eddie says, dropping his black garment bag on the bed to cradle Steve's hands in his own, gently, carefully. 

He's so gentle. This is exactly why Steve lost his cool. Jason Carver doesn't know shit about Eddie Munson.

But Steve does. Steve knows everything about him.

"What happened? I was gone an hour," he asks, meeting Steve's eyes, questioning. And Steve can't blame him. It's definitely out of character for Steve to be going around picking fights.

"I fucked up," Steve says, and Eddie looks so goddamn concerned.

"Do we need to run?" Eddie asks, and Steve loves him even more, if that's possible. Eddie would run with him. He would. They come first. Together. They've learned to be selfish over the years. To protect what's theirs. What they have.

What they love. 

Looking out for each other, first and foremost.

Steve shakes his head, "If I get arrested, just call Hop and Erica. And Robin, definitely call Robin. And then bail me out."

"Steve…"

"Jason Carver mouthed off downtown. I obviously didn't take it too well," Steve admits, and Eddie laughs. Steve feels the pit in his gut diminish, just a little. Eddie's not mad. He should have known he wouldn't be.

"I'm very disappointed I didn't get to see it happen," Eddie says, and he carefully kisses Steve's bruised knuckles.

Then, he smiles, "Be sure to tell Gareth all the gory details tonight at the rehearsal dinner. He'll be thrilled. He's still holding a grudge over that black eye and broken finger."

Nobody holds a grudge better than Gareth, and Steve will definitely tell him. Somebody should get something out of this stupid, impulsive act.

"How bad did you hurt him?" Eddie asks, and Steve can read between the lines. He's really asking, just how much trouble are you in?

"Not that bad," Steve says. No worse than Jonathan pounded Steve all those years ago. Before. His last fight, his last afternoon, maybe his final day of childhood before his life was forever tinted with the horrors of the Upside Down.

Eddie's just looking at him, like he's not sure Steve has a good grasp on what's bad. Which is fair.

"I could have killed him and dumped him in the lake. So. Not that bad in comparison," Steve says.

Eddie laughs, and reaches up and touches Steve's face, stroking his cheek with his thumb, "Did he really not even get a lick in?"

Steve grins. He definitely came out ahead, but he isn't totally unscathed. Steve lifts his shirt, showing Eddie his side where Jason had focused his attention.

"Ouch," Eddie says, fingers careful as he inspects the damage. 

"It's not so bad," Steve reassures, "and it's not another concussion. I'll take it."

Eddie just studies him, then asks, "What'd he say?"

Steve shakes his head, "Nothing worth repeating. Nothing true."

Bullshit. Utter bullshit. 

Steve closes his eyes and tilts his head back, rolling his neck, trying to drain some of the tension there. It doesn't help.

"Steve," Eddie says, clearly concerned. Which is fair. He's not being himself. Just seeing Carver sent him back years, decades, to the worst night of his life. Flashes of the aftermath play through his head, brought right back to the surface.

"That was the night I nearly lost you," Steve says, eyes still squeezed shut.

"I know. I'm right here."

"I fucking promised I wouldn't fight anymore after we, after we, if we could—"

"If we won The Great War?" Eddie fills in.

Steve nods. They won. Gates closed. Vecna gone, burned to cinder. Normal life should have resumed. He thought it did. 

Apparently he's only been pretending, clearly that night is still right under the surface.

"I really thought I'd lost you that night. You were. It was," Steve says, and shakes his head, as if he can force the images to recede back, to leave him alone for another decade or two.

Eddie steps closer, cupping Steve's face.

"I'd do anything for you, you know?" Steve asks, opening his eyes, meeting Eddie's eyes. Eddie nods, smiling.

"Back at ya, Harrington. Let's get the fuck out of this town."

That's the best idea Steve's ever heard, but he's not skipping town. He can't leave anything hanging over their heads. If Jason wants to go tattle, wants to press charges, Steve will take his lumps.

Only then will they go, and never look back at this place ever again.

But first, Eddie's got a wedding to be in tomorrow. Jason Carver isn't making Eddie miss the historical event that is Goodie finally tying the knot. No way.

"After tomorrow, then we'll go," Steve counters, and Eddie studies him. Whatever he sees must be enough. He pats Steve's cheek gently, and then takes a step back.

Eddie grabs the empty ice bucket from the dresser, declaring, "Let's ice those hands, and then I'll make you forget all about that asshole."

Steve grins. That sounds like a solid plan to him, "Deal."

"Great," Eddie says, looking at him, grinning wickedly. Steve feels it in his chest, can see Eddie winding up.

Steve's ready to catch it. Will always be ready to catch whatever Eddie's throwing down.

"Now, don't get in a fight with the chair while I'm gone."

There it is. Steve laughs. They'll be fine, no matter what.

"We don't want counts of furniture homicide added to your rap sheet."

Steve shakes his head, used to it, but still smitten, "Is that better or worse than destruction of property?"

"Worse. Way worse, Harrington. And people said I was the wrong element," Eddie adds, getting in one last jab, and then he's gone. Laughing as the door to the room closes.

And if you want to write your own, or see more entries in this pop-up, check out @corrodedcoffinfest to see other entries for the Somewhere Over the Rainbow popup event!

Notes: I thought it'd be fun to chose one artist for the whole event, and I was like who has that big of a catalog that they've probably mentioned lots of colors in their lyrics? Bob Dylan came to mind, and so did The Beatles. Springsteen. Taylor Swift. I also already knew there was a TS lyric search site that would come in handy, and then I found this tumblr post as a great reference, too. So, decision made.

[kissreo]

Having sex with Shinichiro with different points in your relationship.

The first month you two have been dating, Shinichiro's shy — almost too shy but it's cute to you. He's scared of touching you since he doesn't want to be too rough and hurt you, even if you already reassured him that it was alright. When he saw you bare the first time, his jaw dropped in awe and he felt like you were a blessing from god since everything about you was so perfect, to the point where he teared up. Shinichiro's touch was feather light as his fingers splayed over your waist, not wanting to be bolder and to savour the moment — that time didn't go too far, just him worshipping your body with quiet murmurs and faint kisses.

The third month, Shinichiro still isn't used to the sight but at least he can keep himself mostly calm while you look divine, as he says, in front of you. He's careful to stretch you before the two of you do anything since he's still overly worried about you being hurt, you know he'll always be like that though. Shinichiro's hands are laying on your hips as you sink down on his lap, he throws his head back as pathetic whimpers escape his lips but he still doesn't look away from you. "You're so beautiful on me.." this, "Oh my god, y/n I can't anymore." that.

By the sixth month, Shinichiro could already ask you to ride him or let him eat you out and didn't just wait until you brought the topic up. He was a messy eater but it didn't matter to you since it felt so good when his tounge was deep inside you, but the feeling of him bottoming out was even better. Shinichiro's touches got more eager, bolder and rougher — leaving faint bruises on the fat on your body. He finally figured out his favorite positons which are any where he can look at your face, especially missionary and cowgirl.

After a year of dating, Shinichiro still is pathetic but not as much as he used to be since if you ask him, he can dom you. You always knew Shin was loud during sex but the longer you two had been dating, the more clear it became — when he was thrusting into you without mercy, he cursed under his breath and could barely get any words out but he still managed to. "Fuck yeah, your pussy loves me so much.", and occasional groans. His aftercare is heavenly, running you a hot bath and giving you a half-assed massage but it still felt so much better when he did it.

On the third year, Shinichiro was needy and desperate, he's seen on how good you are with his siblings and kids overall that he just wants to get you pregnant. You're looking up at him so lovingly, hair tangled and sticking to your sweaty skin when he just stopped thrusting into you — you reach up to cup his face with the sweetest smile ever and he puts his hand on yours. "Let me give us a baby, I was gonna propose tomorrow either way.", Shinichiro held his breath, praying to whatever god was out there that you'd say yes, both for the baby and to the proposal. A small giggle left your lips and you nodded which made him pull out and toss the condom the side before returning with his non-stop thrusting.

On the night after your wedding, the two of you don't have sex since you already have a baby growing inside of you. Shinichiro stares at you in awe as you prance around the hotel room doing whatever, the white nightgown you got as a gift from your cousin wrapped around your curves so perfectly. He stood up from his seat and went behind you while you were looking at yourself in the mirror, his arms went on your growing stomach and he smiled. "I'll be the best dad to it.", he buried his head in the crook of your neck and started crying slightly — he was married to the love of his life with a baby on the way, Shinichiro couldn't be happier. Safe to say that if anywhere in the future, your baby asks for a sibling — he will make sure of it.

[lsunstreakerl]

1.7k legal adjustments verse, max POV, daniel POV, mature content implied.

relevant heads up: omegaverse, muzzles, genuinely lethal levels of being on different pages, hurt no comfort

"It's just for the double header, Max."

Christian's lying. It's this double header, and then it's the next time they're on this side of the world again, and it'll just keep happening, over and over.

"His teeth are in my neck, how is that not enough?"

That Christian seems equally as frustrated is only a small relief. He's holding the leather in his hands, and Max is trying not to look at it.

"I promise, the FIA is doing everything they can to find a compromise. Unfortunately at the moment, it's either this or not racing."

He holds it out to Max, who takes it with no small amount of disgust. It makes him feel awful even just looking at it, humiliation churning in his gut. They can't actually expect him to wear this every moment he's out of the car— they'll never get any sound bites or interviews out of him.

It doesn't help that his alpha doesn't even want him. Daniel will probably see it as another failure, and it's worse than just the indignity of Max being muzzled— he'll be muzzled with the tag of an alpha that will be equally as embarrassed, because its Max.

He's not even a catch, just a burden, another thing on Daniel's list of things to handle. His fingers are trembling as he holds the muzzle, looking down at Daniel's logo stamped into the side. His FIA mandated collar has his own logo, but there's no sign of it on the muzzle, just Daniel's logo at the hinge of his jaw.

At least it doesn't have sponsors.

------

He and Daniel don't share hotel rooms. It had been a naive thought Max had initially, when Daniel had bitten him and then fucked him, let him make a nest in his home.

They're not like that.

Max stays in his flat in Monaco, reassures the woman at his favorite bakery that his alpha is at home, that he doesn't like to come out often. He spends most of his time in his flat, because he's afraid of what might happen if he goes out too much, if people notice that he's always alone. He's vulnerable now.

The sim rig hasn't let him down, and the cats love him the same as before, and if Max doesn't go outside then he can't possibly run into Charles. The unanswered calls and texts on his phone nag at him, but he doesn't know what to say.

I'm sorry wouldn't cut it.

------

"—and Dan, if you could get the muzzle fit tested tonight and let us know if Max needs any changes? We want it as comfortable as possible, even if we hopefully aren't using it long."

Daniel is startled out of his daydreams, head spinning. He doesn't know anything about a muzzle, hasn't talked to Max much at all beyond surface level jokes at the factory, carefully maintaining his distance. Max has been looking worse, the stress from the season and a mating he didn't want weighing on him, and Daniel feels nausea at the thought of it.

The distance is helping, it has to be, but it's impossible for them to entirely separate. Max is always going to be around the source of the trauma, around Daniel, and now—

"Yeah, I'll get right on that."

Max's hotel keycard burns a hole in his pocket. Daniel always gets a copy, because he's the one buying the hotel rooms, but he hasn't used it until now. He knocks on Max's door, waiting patiently on the other side. He's fully capable of carding himself in, but the idea of intruding into Max's space grates against him unpleasantly.

The door opens a crack, but Max doesn't open it all the way, peeking through the side. Something about his scent smells off.

"Max, hey, can I come in?"

Max swallows, but he opens the door further, eyeing Daniel nervously. It's nothing like how he used to be, perfectly at ease in Daniel's presence, because Daniel's ruined it, crushed it with any of the rest of Max's romantic dreams.

The room smells weird too. It takes him a minute to realize that it's because there's the artificial scent of pheromone neutralizer in his nose, all across the room. He doesn't see anything resembling a nest, even though Max isn't great at them to begin with.

There's a sour undertone to the whole thing, which surely has something to do with the muzzle on the table. Max won't look him in the eye, shifting on his feet.

"I tried to fit test it myself, but I of course cannot get the straps. Sorry."

Obviously Max can't get the muzzle on or off himself, it's part of the design. Daniel swallows back bile.

"It's okay, Max. Just, uh, stand here?"

Max is shorter than him, but not by much, and it's an awkward angle for his hands until Max lowers onto his knees, knuckles white where he's gripping his sweatpants, head tilted back.

Everything about the submissive posture screams discomfort, and Daniel wants—

He wants to break something, wants to rip it apart, wants to fix it, wants to sink his teeth into Max again, wants his mate right next to him, wants him happy.

His fingers are shaking as he takes the muzzle, trying to figure out the straps. There's no sign of Max's logo, or his name, or anything, just Daniel's logo stamped into the leather. The ownership makes him feel even guiltier, churning uncomfortably with the alpha instincts he's already grappling with.

He can't figure it out, brow furrowed, until Max sighs and takes the muzzle back, carefully fitting it over his face so Daniel just has to secure it. He's wearing scent blocking patches— recent ones, from the looks of it, still bright white against his skin. Daniel eyes the muzzle, realizing the flat piece that had confused him is inside Max's mouth.

There's a small channel on the side of the muzzle that looks about the size of their straws, so Max can still drink, but otherwise his mouth is obscured, straps looping around the back of his head. Daniel secures them in place, fitting a finger between Max's head and the strap. It's a tight fit, but there's a small amount of give.

He crouches in front of Max, meeting his eyes. There's a depth to them he can't quite read, and he can't smell Max like this either— he feels like he's fumbling in the dark.

"Is that piece on top of your tongue?"

Max nods, and Daniel watches as he swallows. It seems like it takes more force, the bob of his throat more pronounced, but he's still breathing fine through his nose. There's a few holes punched through the front of the muzzle for airflow, but there's mesh behind them, so he still can't see Max's mouth.

He hates it.

"Is it poking anywhere? Too tight, feels weird?"

Max works his jaw for a moment before shaking his head softly, eyes still locked on Daniel. He's not sure how he's going to manage an entire double header of having Max attached at his side like this, not when the only thing he wants to do is take it off and hide Max away in a nest.

Maybe they should do that instead, and Christian can pull reserves. He'll stay cuddled up with Max, order takeout, figure out what's up with the scent blockers and the neutralizer, and things will be okay.

He glances down at Max's bite, sunken deep into the skin, and shoves the idea out of his mind. That's the last thing Max would want— Max wants racing, they wouldn't be in this position if he cared about anything else near as much.

He unstraps the muzzle, hating himself for the flip in his stomach at the string of spit that snaps between Max and the muzzle before he sets it back down.

Max immediately brings a hand up to massage at his jaw, no longer meeting his eyes, and Daniel wants to do it for him, to work out the tension already building. He wants to curl them up in the bed and scent him, reassure him that Daniel wouldn't let anything happen to him.

"It fits fine, thank you. You can let Christian know it does not need adjustments."

It's cold water to his system, reminding him that they aren't like that. Daniel is only here because Max couldn't check it himself, so that they can follow regulations, so that Max can race.

"Right, yeah, I'll... I'll let him know."

He forces himself to his feet, heart tugging violently at the thought of leaving Max behind here.

"Do you need anything?"

Max shakes his head.

------

He waits five minutes after Daniel has left to peel off the scent blockers, wincing at the acidic taste of his own scent flooding the room. The abandonment and the disgust, the worthlessness, everything he feels about the muzzle— it's been permeating into his hotel room, and he'd freaked out when Daniel had knocked unexpectedly, slathering on scent blockers and spraying nearly the entire complimentary bottle of neutralizer.

Thankfully, Daniel hadn't noticed. Or maybe he had, and he just hadn't cared. He seemed plenty upset about having to deal with the muzzle already, which has Max annoyed and ashamed in equal measures.

Obviously he can't do it himself, because if he could he certainly would not have bothered Christian to bother Daniel about the fit testing. It's not like he's trying to make things difficult, and it's certainly not his fault they have all these stupid fucking rules.

He races the same now as he did before Daniel bit him, except now he has to wear a collar and a muzzle, and none of the alphas roughhouse with him anymore, and he doesn't remember the last time he'd had someone in his nest.

He doesn't remember the last time he'd even bothered making a good nest. His current one is in the closet, shoved tightly back in the corner.

It's where he's been sleeping. He doesn't feel safe here, especially not alone, and it's been messing with his instincts. Maybe if Daniel had stayed, scented something, scented Max—

It doesn't matter. He curls up miserably in the nest, still tasting leather on his tongue.

[jadeylovesmarvelxo]

Steve is kinda an asshole in this which is rare for me to write and hard on my poor Stevie lover heart but it must be done for this fic 🫣

Also hi 🫶 I'm back. Idk for how long, but my creative juices are returning, and I missed writing about my boys and may even indulge in some Marvel *Bucky* writing eventually, we'll see.

This is an 18+ blog and while this fic isn't 18+, my blog generally is. 18+ Just an fyi. ✨

Angst and fluff.

.

Steve has been seated with Jessica and her gaggle of friends for the last half hour, not that you were counting or anything... It was just that the diner was slow during that time and you needed something to take your mind off being mind-numbingly bored.

It wasn't because you were into Steve or anything. Okay, sure, you had kisses several times, and he made your heart flip-flop daily, but that was nothing. Nothing.

How could it be anything while he was glued to little Miss Popular's side? Sure, he wasn't King Steve anymore, but he wouldn't have been seen with you, would he? You weren't rich, preppy and semi-popular like Nancy Wheeler or practically Hawkins royalty like Jess.

Normally that wouldn't bother you. You didn't want to be popular, with eyes on you every day and constantly stressing over what to do or say to anyone. It sounded like a nightmare.

You weren't in high school anymore, newly graduated and glad to be out of that hellhole, there was no way you were still letting that place dictate how you behaved.

But then there was that small part of you that wanted to be able to go on dates with Steve, to hold hands and kiss and go out to the movies and dinner. To be seen... by him.

You didn't know why he kissed you - several times, or why he kept coming back to you. All you knew was that you were tired of having a relationship in the shadows.

"Orders up, honey, table six" Your boss smiles at you, and you take a deep breath as you carry milkshakes over to the table where Steve, Jessica, and her friends are currently sitting.

Steve's gaze meets yours, and for a brief second, it's like your whole world stands still. Then Jessica clears her throat with a smirk on her face and cuddles into Steve. It's a gut punch and you fake a smile as you hand out the milkshakes.

"Isn't your little outfit adorable babes" Jess coos with malice in her eyes, "My aunt had something similar in her closet...like twenty years ago, very trailer trash esque" It's not like the barb particularly cuts deep, it's bitchy and immature, that isn't what hurts. No, what hurts is the tiny smile on Steve's face along with Jessica's laughter.

That breaks your heart. You don't care if he's done it to go along with her and her friends. It's the fact that he's laughed at all that hurts the most.

You're not going to cry, not here. Maybe later in the privacy of your own room but not now. You'd never give Jessica that satisfaction. Instead, you hold your head high and walk away.

It isn't long after that when Steve sidles up to you as you're cleaning up. You're still pissed and don't give him any indication that you know he's there, just leave him standing awkwardly.

"Honey, look, I'm sorry about..." You don't let him finish, you just walk away, growing more annoyed as he follows. He's not sweet-talking his way out of this one.

Everything is building up inside of you, the worry that Steve never wants to be seen with you, the laughter, the anxiety. It's too much and you've had enough.

"What is it, Harrington? I'm busy" His face falls, it's brief, but it happens because you've never called him Harrington. It's always been Steve, Stevie, etc.

He doesn't say anything and you turn to him defiantly, "You don't get to swan around with Jessica Daniels, laugh it up while she acts like her usual bitchy self and expect me to just run to you. That's not happening" he swallows and his hand reaches to take yours but you move away.

"Baby I'm sorry, please let's just talk, I can come around tonight and..." Nope, nuh uh, you're not falling for that. You move away and ignore Jessica's narrowed gaze in your direction.

"Don't bother Steve," it's only then that your bravado slips for the first time and you blink away tears.

"I'm tired of being your dirty little secret" You walk away from him again, and this time, he doesn't follow, just watches you leave. Shock in his eyes and something deeper, but at this moment, you don't particularly care.

Salvation to your broken heart and jumbled thoughts arrive as the bell above the entrance door tinkles and in comes Eddie Munson. His big brown eyes light up when he sees you and he smirks, all dimples and mischief.

He rushes over to you with one of the juniors that still idolise him; Dustin? Usually, you see Dustin with Steve but he's also joined to the hip with Eddie most days as well.

"My lady, I need your assistance on a dangerous quest post haste" Eddie dramatically bows to you and you can't help but giggle at his antics. Eddie never fails to make you smile. He never makes you feel like your presence is unwanted either.

"Hellfire again? Eddie, I promised one time" you pout but know you'll give in. It was the first Hellfire meeting you attended as Eddie was still the leader, even after graduating alongside you earlier this year. The truth was that the meeting was a blast, and you had so much fun.

There was a sense of belonging in the group of friends and they immediately made you feel welcome as well. It might have been because Lucas secretly told you that Eddie threatened to kill their characters if they even looked at you funny or said one comment out of line, but you also knew it was because they were genuinely nice people.

Dustin snorts, "You're not going to flirt with her, Elven princess character, the entire time again, are you?" he directs this question to Eddie whose playful smile gives him away immediately.

"Henderson, I was not flirting, I was making my girl feel comfortable, kay?" My girl... the comment makes your heart flip, and you can't believe you've waited so long for Steve to say something like that, only to be left heartbroken when he didn't. Then there's Eddie, who doesn't bat an eyelid when he says it; it just slips out naturally.

In fact, he looks proud and is beaming from ear to ear. Did he mean it in the way you thought he did? Did Eddie like you more than just a friend? Why did that thought have your heart racing and your stomach feel like it was doing somersaults?

Fuck. You had a lot to think about tonight. Right now however you just wanted to spend time with your friend. To answer his question from before you reach up and kiss him on the cheek.

"Alright, I'll join, but I'm picking the movie after the meeting tonight", you grin mischievously. Eddie's eyes widen, colour floods his cheeks, and he clears his throat, looking flustered.

This may be a historic moment. It might be the first time you've ever seen Eddie speechless. Dustin rolls his eyes and Eddie comes to after a moment, his gaze focuses on something behind you.

"Ever been told that it's rude to stare like that at someone Harrington?" He snaps and flips Steve the bird. Steve, who's watching you, and Eddie, hands clenched tight on the table, his eyes flashing furiously.

Yeah..well. Fuck him. That's your final thought as Eddie leads you out of the diner as your shift ends, holding the door open for you with the biggest Cheshire cat grin on his face.

🫶

[nanamisbbygirl]

maternal instinct

includes: dad geto x mom reader ft. little nanako and mimiko

type: drabble, domestic fluff

summary: geto loves the way you care for the girls, and he can't thank you enough. (sfw- slightly suggestive) (follows canon)

a/n: those are his babies i love this trope and dynamic (im a sucker for it) and one more thing this is so personal im crashing out rn but fuck sukuna like it's the number 1 reason i REFUSE to write for him because like how could u do that to them

p.s if anyone wants more of these drabbles i will write them all it takes is one person asking lol

"you take good care of them," geto hums, placing a kiss on your shoulder, watching how the two little girls have gently been put to sleep. you turn to look at him, a faint smile on your lips.

"they deserve to be taken care of, to have someone love them." his eyes are soft for a moment. you don't see the vicious cult leader, or the jujutsu defector you ran away with. you see a thoughtful man, with ideology and purpose. "you did the right thing, taking them from that village."

he doesn't say anything. he doesn't have to. you both know what he's thinking. he's remembering that fateful day, picturing their battered faces, horrified in the cage. it was all it took for you to realize the world wasn't what it was, the suffering inflicted by humans needed to be put to an end.

"i like seeing you like this," he whispers, "maternal, caring-- it brings out the best in you."

you laugh, "i could say the same about you. you looked so cute letting them give you a makeover the other day."

"hmm yeah," he smiles alongside you. "it's almost their birthday, we should get them a nice cake. their first birthday with us."

"yeah," your voice trails off, peeking into the room. when you pictured having a family with suguru, it didn't necessarily look like this, but you wouldn't trade it for anything.

he spins you around, looking at you face-to-face, placing his lips onto yours. it's a gentle kiss, but strong enough to make your blood rush.

"now let me take care of you," he whispers into your ear, hands finding your waist.

"oh really? what am i in for today?" you try not to laugh too loud, you just put the girls down after all.

geto gives you another kiss, "whatever you'd like, my love, i'm at your service."

he pulls you in closer, so that your head rests on his chest and you can hear his heart beat.

"well now that you mention it, a good massage is just what i need."

his eyebrows wiggle, "oh i can give you a good massage."

giggling, you nudge him away. "so perverted!" you tease him, letting him kiss you one more time.

"seriously, though," you draw back to your previous idea, "maybe a nice glass of wine? maybe a foot rub?"

"sure," he pecks your nose, but before you have the chance to split off, there's a tiny hand tugging at your pants.

little nanako and mimiko stood there, rubbing their tired eyes.

“we can’t sleep,” they tell you, causing you to kneel to their height. you softly pet their heads as they rush in for a hug.

“oh no, well we have to do something to fix that.” you muse, “how about another bedtime story?”

their faces perk up, nodding eagerly. their reactions cause you to chuckle, “okay well, go pick out a book and me and suguru will come and read to you.”

the little girls bounce back to their shared bedroom while you rose again to your full height. in doing so, you embraced geto into a half hug, where he placed his lips against the crown of your head.

“i guess it’s a rain check on the massage then, huh?” he says against your skin.

you nod, “i guess so. it’s alright though, story time is more fun.”

“i love you,” he says breathlessly.

“i know,” you hum, “and i love you.”

together, you walk into the girls room, greeting them with smiles as they present their story of choice.

a/n: i had to make a little edit because my original ending didn’t save for some reason 😿

[glitteringdust]

A letter with a broken seal; the wax is stamped with a familiar symbol.

The envelope sits carefully between them, torn open.

Fenris doesn't recognize the symbol on the wax, but he does recognize Varric's fancy scrawl filling empty space with careful precision.

"When did you receive this?"

He doesn't have to read the letter inside to know what the dwarf asks. It's written clearly along Hawke's entire body— in the way he was hunched into himself, refusing to meet his eye, looking instead out the window as the setting sun drenched the sky in orange and red. The mage had never been good at hiding his true feelings from him.

"Hawke. Please tell me it was today."

He sighs, "A week ago."

It still stings more than he thought it would. His fingers claw at the table he leans down against, "And you've said nothing until now."

Hawke nods, the guilt seeping off him like a miasma. This gets Fenris's attention. Why guilt? Was he not just mulling over the decision? What else was he not saying?

"I didn’t know how to tell you." He trails off, clears his throat, "I still don't."

"Tell me what?" They could still get out of the city unnoticed. It didn’t leave much time to prepare but it could be done. Aveline would help, or Isabela.

Hawke's gaze aches, "Fenris…"

He steps back, standing bolt upright. The realization sends ice down to his feet, sucking the breath from him. The room feels like it's spinning, "Just say it."

A shuddering exhale, "I have to go alone. I won't risk your life with this."

"But you would risk your own?" He slams his hands down on the table.

"That's not—"

Fenris cuts him off, "When?"

Hawke crumples, defeated, "Tomorrow."

Each heartbeat thunders in his ears, drowning out in an instant whatever explanation Hawke had. He collapses back into the chair he'd jumped out of, mouth dry and hands trembling as he sits and tries to absorb what he's just heard.

Hawke was leaving tomorrow into unknown danger.

He didn't want him to come with.

Two impossible scenarios come to life. He feels like he's going to be sick, leaning forward to rest his forehead in his hands. This couldn't be real, surely he's in a nightmare he'll wake from any moment. Tears burn briefly in the corner of his eyes before he blinks them away. Anger quickly rushes forward again, wanting nothing more than to smash the table into splinters, throw glass after glass against the wall. He wants to fight and argue and make his point clear, burning with an intensity he hadn't felt since he'd been a slave.

But he stops himself. No, not like this. He doesn't want this night to be remembered like this.

He stands so abruptly that Hawke jumps too, honey eyes meeting his as he steps around the table. Hawke goes to stand, but Fenris only puts a hand on his chest and pushes him back into the armchair.

"If I am to have one last night with you, we spend it my way."

"Anything, Fenris. I'm yours." Hawke murmurs, voice rough.

He rushes to him, engulfing himself in the feel of his lips against the other's, each kiss liquid fire against his skin. Instead of fighting, he bites back every word by breathing Hawke in. His taste, his smell, the way his skin felt against him. He wants to etch each and every part of him to memory. He wants Hawke's voice whispering sweet nothings into his ear, breath sending shivers down his spine.

They make love once, twice. A third when he wakes to the early pink sky and the tears start again and he tastes salt along Hawke's cheeks too. They cling to each other; neither one pretending that they slept at all, trying and failing to feel nothing about the mere hours left before the inevitable.

Hawke makes breakfast that Fenris can only pick at, tasting none of it. He thinks of throwing the plate into the fire and pinning Hawke to the wall, begging and pleading for him to stay. Or take him with. Don't do this.

The ache in his chest only sharpens more when Hawke kisses him in the doorway, cupping his cheek with his hand. His other was laced with Fenris's, bodies yearning to be closer.

"I just want to keep you safe, Fenris. You're all I have left."

"I know, Hawke." His throat feels raw. Don't you know you’re all I have too?

"I'll be back before you know it." Hawke pulls him close, "I love you."

"I love you." He does, so much that it chokes him. So much that he feels like drowning.

As the door shuts in some cruel sort of finality, something inside Fenris shuts too.

—

He couldn’t bring himself to stay at the manor after Hawke left. What had become a home after years of being adrift felt nothing but haunted now. He saw Hawke everywhere, in everything. He fled that same day to the old manor he'd squatted in before Hawke petitioned the city to sign the deed over to him.

A reward for stopping Meredith, a lifetime ago now.

But he went back often. Waiting. Hoping. Dreading. What if Hawke returned and he wasn't there? What would he think happened to Fenris? Did Hawke even care? It was another cruel game he gifted to himself, endless questions stemming from the nightmares that came to him when he managed to sleep more than a few hours each night.

He had so much empty time, now. He busied himself fighting off slavers along the coast, over and over until the rumor of a glowing wraith was too much for even the lowest of low-lives to attempt to dig their heels in.

Then, he was aimless, wandering the streets of Kirkwall. Or just sitting motionless on his old stiff bed as the grief overwhelmed him out of nowhere. Some weeks were better than others, but what Hawke used to always say about time was a lie.

It doesn't heal. It doesn't make anything easier. The unknown was tearing him to pieces.

Then the second letter comes, the same symbol as before, and he cannot make himself open it. Similar to a coin flip, this letter was one of two things— good or bad news.

He needed to know, but couldn’t bear to.

Why hadn't he heard anything before now? The handwriting was Varric's, that he knew for sure, but it was addressed "Fenris" and not "Broody" which gave him pause. Was he just ensuring the letter got to him, or was something grave lurking inside?

He thinks back to the nights he would lie in bed aching for news. For a hint of something Hawke, a wisp or a sign of the man in something. Now, he had what he'd asked for but was too afraid to open it?

Enough of this.

He reaches for the letter, fingers sliding across the sealed crease as he dives straight into the abyss of what may or may not, break him.

[laylasverse]

SHIFTING ACTIVITY ᰋ WHERE IN THE WORLD IS JASON TODD? ﹙ activity by @withluvvenus ﹚

ARROWVERSE REALITY ꫂ᭪ ARKHAM KNIGHT!JASON IS . . .

most likely to write all your favorites down to remember them my favorite foods / snacks change around every two weeks so he's got a little note in his wallet of my current favorites.

most likely to hold your hand under the table he did. every night at dinner in the wayne manor he'd sit next to me and use his left hand ( he's right handed ) to eat just so i could use my right while we held hands.

most likely to sacrifice everything for you he's so cliche. i love him sm :(

BETTER REALITY ꫂ᭪ COLLEGE BASKETBALL!JASON IS . . .

most likely to plan a dramatic but romantic getaway he loves, i mean adores italy. he plans a trip every year ( sometimes twice ). he's got rich parents lol.

most likely to get jealous but try to hide it he knows it doesn't make any sense to get jealous because we've been together for three years and not once has either of us had any interest in anyone else. although, i can see why that's a little hard to remember when jack harlow is throwing every flirty comment in the book at me during our interview.

most likely to send you flowers ' just because ' it's a habit he picked up from my step-dad. the first time he did it after my step-dad's death i did breakdown, but y'know.

most likely to kiss you mid-argument his favorite move and it makes me crash-out every time.

most likely to send you flirty texts during serious times we have this bit where we sometimes text each other like we're fwb and not in a three-year long relationship. but his timing is terrible so he texts me the craziest things while my friends are looking at something i'm showing them on my phone. the look they always give me is just pure disappointment.

GOTHAM REALITY ꫂ᭪ BODYGUARD!JASON IS . . .

most likely to defy the rules to be with you i mean that is quite literally the whole structure of our relationship.

most likely to show you their love through small acts he knows how much i hate doing the dishes so he'll do them while i'm in another room. i could get a personal chef or a maid. but the thought of paying someone else cleaning up after me like i'm a toddler makes my skin crawl.

most likely to dance with you in the kitchen we're too domestic. it's sick.

most likely to do something dangerous to protect you it is his job.

MODERN!GOTHAM REALITY ꫂ᭪ BOXER!JASON IS . . .

most likely to show you their love through grand gestures he bought me a car for valentine's day. a car. a dark green ford mustang gt v8. he's ridiculous.

most likely to pretend to be your boyfriend to help you he has been playing the role of boyfriend since we were actual children. we lived in that space between friendship and romance for way too long. everyone would look at us funny when we told them we weren't together.

most likely to get jealous and act upon it he doesn't let anything slide. not a second glance or a sly comment.

most likely to kiss you in the rain with no hesitation he prefers it.

SMOSH REALITY ꫂ᭪ CAMERA MAN!JASON IS . . .

most likely to defend you even if you were wrong i got the rules wrong in a games video once but jason died on that hill with me.

most likely to make themselves look stupid to see you smile mr ' i wear dumbass hats to make sure layla breaks on camera '.

most likely to send you ' this reminded me of you ' gifts three weeks into knowing each other he gave me a gold necklace with a lightning bolt pendant. three weeks. that's a little crazy. still love him though!

﹙ back to the circus ﹚

[obeymeluv]

Food and Friends [Random TWST Boys]

You make food from your world and get the boys to try it. If you can't make it, Sam gets it to you.

Featuring: deviled eggs, fried pickles, and flaming hot cheetos

I haven't read all the vignettes on every card or watched all of the events so I don't know if these foods already exist in Twisted Wonderland but I thought of the food I'd miss. Or ones I think would be kind of hard to explain.

I guess this is like a "Southerner Edition" since I'm from the south lol. Any references to how things are made are just how my family makes them, not the ultimate way to make anything.

Not proofread. Might do that tomorrow.

I. Deviled Eggs

You've been trying to find a way to ease the homesick ache with little success. The school had great food (a surprise, given that Crowley was the headmaster) but nothing like what you were used to. There were things that came close to your favorite foods but nothing was exact. After scrounging up enough money, you stocked your pantry with staples and went to work recreating things.

Ace and Deuce let themselves in when you were in the middle of taking eggs out of an ice bath. Deuce's eyes sparkled as you expertly freed the eggs from their shell prison. He enjoyed basically every style of egg and was not above a plain boiled one. Honestly, he was silently wondering if he could slip you a few thaumarks to eat a few since they were right there and he was here now.

"What are you doing?" Ace squinted at you curiously as you deftly cleaved the egg and scooped the yellow yolk balls into a bowl.

"Making deviled eggs," you replied, arranging the pitted halves to make room for more.

"What's that? Spicy eggs?" he watches you add mayonnaise, yellow mustard, and paprika, mixing and fluffing until there's something creamy in the bowl. He can smell the mustard and it stings his nose just a little.

"No. It's deviled eggs." you laugh, grasping blindly for the nearby cup with a plastic sandwich bag already folded over it. Deuce and Ace look like children, peering at you with big eyes as you taste a bit with a second fork, sprinkling salt and pepper over it before plopping it into the bag. You push and twist the filling down into a corner of said bag before snipping it off.

No one says a word as you paint the hollows with the mix. Sometimes you swirl it into a little heap, sometimes you fan it back and forth so it's flat but no less full. Deuce thinks it's absolutely genius that one egg can make two of these things. He hasn't tried them yet but he's sure he'll like them.

"I can't really explain it. You just have to try it." you pop one in your mouth, pointing a thumb back at the plateful. Ace looks mildly skeptical but you can see the intrigue. Deuce makes the face you usually see when Crewel gives an essay question on an Alchemy test. He's debating on how to pick said egg up; the half is small in his big hand. And slippery.

And Ace's complaining about the filling getting on his finger is right in his ear.

Deuce takes his first bite and it's like heaven in his mouth. You have the tang of the mustard, the creaminess of the mayo, the complimentary fattiness of the yolk and he doesn't think he's tasted anything like it! He lets out an involuntary moan and has no shame, reaching around Ace for another one before he's even swallowed the first.

Ace is on his third and Deuce is gunning for a fourth. You've wisely stolen a few and stepped aside. Living in Twisted Wonderland has given you a sixth sense and something's about to go down.

There's one deviled egg left and they've both realized it.

A small fight ensues and you nearly choke to death when Deuce wins.

When did they even fall to the floor?!

He's jammed Ace against the cabinets, leaning back into him like a chair. You're ninety percent sure one of Ace's arms are pinned to his chest. Ace tries to hook his legs around and kick Deuce, or at the very least kick himself free, but that just makes Deuce push himself up to sit on Ace's shoulder so he can stretch and tangle their legs together. "Get off!" Ace hisses, Deuce's weight forcing him to roll forward.

Deuce ignores him, settling into the flat of his back. He swings his once-tangled leg out in front of him and hums happily, feet now crossed at the ankles.

"Get off!" Ace yells again, kicking his feet.

"Good, right?"

Deuce can't answer you. His cheeks are full.

Who else likes them: Epel, Ruggie, Trey

Who refuses to eat them: Vil, Idia, Leona

--------

II. Fried Pickles

You were glad Twisted Wonderland had pickles but were surprised none of the restaurants offered fried pickles. When you asked Azul if he'd ever put it on the menu he just looked at you like you were crazy. Not unusual for someone who came from the Coral Sea but if fried chicken made sense to him, why didn't fried pickles? Hell, he even knew what fried mozzarella sticks were!

"Because that doesn't seem like something you'd fry?" he adjusted his glasses. It was something he did when he didn't know how to fill the silence in a conversation. The silence was an honest one, too, because what in the sevens were you talking about?

"How can you fry it, anyways? It already comes in liquid." Floyd questioned, interested now. He couldn't quite picture what you were talking about.

"One can generally only fry something in batter and the pickle liquid is not thick enough for frying." Jade observed.

"No one's ever heard of it? Seriously? It can't just be from my world!" you looked between the three mermen. Their blank eyes stared back at you.

"Easy fix. C'mon!" you motioned for them to follow you into the Mostro Lounge kitchen. They abandon their midmorning tea to watch you grab little food gloves and set up your dredging station. You don't know how you did it or when it happened but the Lounge's kitchen became your second kitchen and your preferred seasonings are always at the front of the cabinet. Azul watches you season the flour with spices, adding splashes of buttermilk, pickle juice, and hot sauce until there's something dippable and smooth.

"This is a really common appetizer where I'm from." you explain. "And you can make a lot of it from one pickle. Or a jar of pickle slices."

"Ah. I see," Jade leans over the two plates you've set out beside the flour mix. One is for the handfuls of pickle slices covered in the juice, the other is for slices that have been blotted dry. "The frying is possible because there's no longer a juice film to compete with the batter."

"Pretty much." you shrug. You never imagined someone would want to scientifically analyze the fried pickle process. Then again, it's Jade.

You'd set up a sauce pan with a few inches of oil before they'd entered the kitchen. Once the thermometer went off, you started frying in batches. Azul's stomach turned a little at the sight of oil soaking into the napkins but not out of disgust. He was a sucker for fried chicken and the distinct smell of something fried was making him hungry.

Pickle chips were a blessing and a curse. Small and convenient but dangerous at times like these. A few handfuls made more than fifty fried pickles and you were afraid they'd go to waste. You'd like them, hell yeah, but you were also afraid to get sick from eating so many.

For all his curiosity, Jade was the last one to try it. He kept his eyes locked on Floyd, drinking in every twitch of the brow and crinkle on his face. Floyd munched away happily, sometimes tossing in two or three at a time. Azul tutted and huffed at his burnt lip, nibbling a pocket for the heat to escape so he didn't make the same mistake again.

They were crispy, flavorful, and a bit vinegary with a flash of heat at the end. Definitely something you could eat a lot of without realizing it. Azul wouldn't even let himself question the calories or how much exercise he'd have to do to break even. No, instead he asked you, "How much do people pay for these?"

Who else likes them: Rook, Jack, Ruggie, Cater

Who refuses to eat them: Jamil, Malleus, Sebek

--------

III. Flaming Hot Cheetos

Sam was, admittedly, intrigued by the packaging. Flames and some kind of spotted cat on the bag? Interesting. You told him stories about how kids would pay others to split bags of these at your school. At one point there was a ban on them because teachers got tired of finding red fingerprints on classwork after lunch. They were also tired of kids using them as an excuse to get up for water, trying to stay out of class as long as possible.

He watched you open the bag and briefly forgot you came from a world with no magic. With a name like 'Flaming Hot Cheetos' he thought the bag would give a little cloud of smoke or pop of fire when you opened it. An unusual blend of spices hit his nose and Sam didn't know what to think. Cater peered interestedly into the bag as you pulled out a chip; it was thin, long, and dusted an almost violent red.

Not quite Riddle red, but redder than any chip he'd seen!

His mission to bring Trey jugs of milk and sticks of butter was temporarily forgotten as you began to feast on your other-dimensional treat. You gave Sam one for his troubles--poor fella had to transport and disguise himself and everything--and Cater batted his lashes at you sweetly. He was a mega-lover of spicy things, after all!

Too bad he couldn't post about it on Magicam, though. It'd make for an interesting picture!

It made Sam cough and you thought you saw his eyes water. He thanked you for sharing but quickly refused another one. The shadows pawed at you and slithered up your side, begging, but Sam told you to ignore them. Cater made a happy noise as you passed him one, warning that his fingers would stain red. The boy shrugged, biting down.

Cater didn't know what to think at first. It wasn't a super dense chip but it wasn't airy nothingness, either. There was a crunch but not much substance. Once you bit it, though, your mouth tingled with a rush of heat. It's almost like it dissolved on his tongue! His nose felt like it wanted to run but he didn't care; these things were crunchy and delicious!

"I like these!" he accepted another one, ignoring the temptation to crack open some of the milk and take a swig as the heat lingered. He bought a drink to mellow the burn but didn't regret the taste. "My lips look hot, too," Cater checked his reflection in his phone when his lips started to feel a little funny. They looked plumper and tinted from the spices.

A sexy flushed, just-bitten kind of look!

"They're pretty good," you agree.

Who else likes them: Rook, Lilia, Malleus, Idia

Who refuses to eat them: Jack, Ruggie, Jade, Vil, Riddle, Leona

[thatgayunoriginalbastard]

Sharpwolf Vampire AU Art

I said I'd draw it, so here it is

(CW for blood and mildly suggestive posing)

I haven't even started writing this thing but this scene was just so stuck in my head I had to draw it. Keep in mind, I haven't done art in a while and have also never drawn anything for EPIC before so...this is what I did using a shit ton of reference images lol. Please ignore the fact that I didn't do any shading or anything to make it look real nice. Or that I have barely any idea how to draw hair and clothing. And don't expect be to start doing art, writing is my strongest suit and I probs spent way too long on this.

.

Based on this post that I made last week. Looking at the actual outline I have, this'll be in like, chapter 8/12 of the fic (also the first of the two smut chapters lol)

Context:

Antinous knows Tele's secret (Tele has been hidden in the castle ever since he was turned just a few years after Ody left, many suspecting that he's dead or even never existed) and had been exchanging his blood for conversation with someone new. After Penelope found out he knew she basically just allowed him to be Tele's new blood bag since human blood keeps him in better shape and this way he doesn't have to drink from her anymore. Antinous decides to teach Telemachus how to fight since when Anti first discovered him it was pretty easy to block Tele's attempt at killing him so nobody would know about his secret. One night Anti takes Tele out to the palace training area to get some night sparring done with real equipment while all the other suitors are asleep.

Unfortunately they end up going at it for so long sunrise comes and one of the other suitors wakes up, hears the noise, comes out, sees Antinous and some random fancy kid, realizes that it's the prince, sees that the prince has no reflection in any of the metal around and is avoiding the increasing amount of sunlight in the outdoor area, and realizes he's a vampire. He starts freaking out and stays in the sunlight so Tele can't do anything, Antinous goes to fight him and does well until Anti gets stabbed in the gut with a knife and falls to the ground. Tele thinks that Anti could be dead (he's beyond sheltered and forgets how much humans can survive, sue him) so he goes out into the sun and latches onto the other suitor's shoulder and starts drinking his blood, ignoring his skin slowly starting to burn in the light. After a bit of that he hears Antinous make a noise, realizes he's still alive, drops the not yet dead suitor, picks Antinous up, and rushes him to his room where he keeps medical supplies just in case something goes wrong.

He patches Antinous up as best he can and Antinous helps him handle his burns which thankfully aren't as bad as they could be due to him only being out in the sun for, like, a minute at max, and vampire healing powers (though because they're burns from the sun they will scar. As Antinous is going off on Telemachus for going into the sun, Telemachus suddenly confesses his feelings, expects rejection, but instead is met with Antinous saying that he's loved him ever since the night they met.

Making out, some lightly spicy stuff, and a whole lot of biting and blood smearing happens but Telemachus is still in disbelief that Antinous actually likes him back and feels like he has to have done something, like maybe compelled him with his vampire powers or something (something he is terrified of because given how little free will he's had ever since he turned he hates the idea of taking away someone else's)...leading to this bit where Telemachus starts crying as he is looking Antinous in the eyes and tells Antinous to tell him that he hates him, his fear making his compulsion powers activate. Antinous has to say it because of being under Tele's spell even though he doesn't want to, Tele breaks the connection, and as soon as his free will is back he "clarifies" that he'll hate him if that's what Telemachus wants, but that's not what he wants and he's pretty sure that's not what Tele really wants either. Tele admits that that's true, they talk a little bit, then they fuck, there's a whole lot more biting because of course there is, and all is great...

...at least until Penelope finds them

If you have any other questions about this AU please let me know, I love to yap.

[josnhoes]

Mind if I request for a batfam thing?

Like what would the fam ( Bruce and Damien ) when they learn by DNA company who dose ancestry that turns out Bruce has an older daughter ( like early twenties like Dick ) but the thing is his daughter is adopted by a family of Samoans and Mexicans and she didn't want to know Bruce at all

Just ants family medical history and that's it but doesn't mind having some contact

Since you didn't specify yandere or not I'm doing non-yandere.

Content warning: Female reader

It had been a public stunt for the Brucie Wayne persona. It was one he didn't like since he tried (and failed) to keep his DNA from being shared in case it'd somehow unmask Batman. But it was do this or risk his persona being outed.

When he saw the results live on stage he'd been shocked. The room erupted in loud voices but Bruce could only hear his own thoughts. How...when? Then he remembered where he was. Instantly the act was back on and he was joking about the surprise. When asked if he was going to approach you he could only say yes but in private for her.

Tracking you down had been ridiculously easy, but maybe he'd just gotten too accustomed to tracking criminals. Which you thankfully were not. No from what he could gather with his online digging were just a normal woman living her best life despite being his family. It had become a secret paranoia that something about being a Wayne was bad luck. But this soothed that.

If it hadn't have been for the fact he said he'd reach our Bruce wouldn't have. He'd continue letting you live your life as is. You *seemed* happy enough.

When your Abuela called you down from your room in the family house so early in the morning you had been surprised. Working a late shift the night before usually meant your family let you sleep in. But seeing Bruce Wayne on the sofa looking nervous you understood.

You'd gotten the email about a new family bond the day before, scarcely believing what it said. You'd heard the Wayne gossip, but it being *you* had never even floated past your mind. Why would it? Yes you were adopted but what were the odds?

Still here he was and you got defensive, "So what do you want?"

"To meet you..." Bruce spoke calmly though you could tell he was uncomfortable and you were jumping to conclusions.

"Well you've met me you can go."

"Wait... look I understand you probably want nothing to do with me. I failed at being there for you. I won't force a relation ship but if you want one the door is open." That was a lie Bruce didn't want you in his life, it was too dangerous for you. But a small part of him,a small traitorous part wanted you around.

"Nena!" Your Abuela scolded you, "I did not raise you to be so rude!"

You huffed but gave in, "Yes Abuela..."

Bruce cleared his throat, "Yes well I mean it I don't want anything you aren't comfortable with. But I would like to offer financial support. I owe a lot of child support." He tried to joke.

"You realize giving me money won't make me like you? Or owe you my time or life?" You wanted to refuse the money but this could really help your family out.

"I do realize that and I respect it."

"Then fine, you can send the money. Only enough for back child support." You were at war with yourself because it was hard saying no to more money but you didn't want to be greedy.

"No. I give all my kids an allowance and I'd like to include you in that on top of it. I'll still give the lump sum for back support." The tone he used left no room for argument.

From there it was bank details being exchanged and being given his number, for if you ever wanted to get in contact or needed help. For your family this likely felt like a boon, but Bruce knew if who you were ever got out you'd be a key choice in kidnapping attempts.

So he'd have to sneak back and set up security. You may not have been his kid by your choice but you were still his kid and an innocent so he had to ensure your safety as best he could from a distance.

[keeps-ache]

in a cafe rn. this place is nice :>

[lsunstreakerl]

Oh my god I want to hug them so bad and wrap them in blankets it‘s unreal 😭.

Compilation of my favourite moments in no particular order:

Max basically saying „I don‘t care if Alex moves in, just don‘t fuck next to me“

Christians unprofessional behaviour (wanting to comfort a teenager)

Christians and Totos reaction to the fact that Max still has the Duct Tape BootsTM

Christian trying to not freak out (and kinda failing) when he realizes that Max is related to Jos and is possibly without any type of legal care taker.

Max teasing George about his crush/more-than-friends-feelings for Alex

Max and George being so siblings its killing me fr. They hate each other sometimes but they hold each other so dear I‘m gonna cry

Helping each other with the contracts for driving and sponsors. I can just see them sitting across at a kitchen table and going ham on the clauses.

Max getting a haircut from Pascale

The tiny gax smau post made me think about the possibility that they might be doing the cuddle thing when one of them is feeling like garbage.

Imagine Alex, still at RBR, not doing well in a race and Max texting George to come to Alex' driver room. RBR mechanics being very confused for a second because thats one one of theirs, but then they recognize George and let him be because they know he‘s probably here for Max. Eventually one of them opens the door to Alex' driver room because they haven't opened the door in a few hours and finding them on the floor because the couch isn't big enough for all three of them.

Sorry if it’s long, the brain worms have infected me <3

tiny max is a menace and relentlessly teases george about the way he looks at alex like he hung the stars in the sky. (until they get together and he's like "oh please god go back to how you were before I can't stand it")

christian experiences one (1) emotion that isn't ruthlessness or victory or cutthroat viciousness and immediately decides he just has to die. no other option. why is this wet mop of a child making him feel squishy things where is franz—

christian handles the unwelcome squishy emotions by making them toto's problem also. toto hates it equally as much, and then they find out there's more wet mop children.

baby bull child is bad enough to give christian hives, but finding out said baby bull child doesn't have an adult sends him into anaphylactic shock. a fever dream. a manic episode. he wakes up and realizes he's successfully pitched the idea of a clothing brand to Red Bull.

george is so pathetically obvious and alex is so pathetically oblivious... how could he not make fun of them.

they would take a bullet for each other, but they'd spend the rest of their lives teasing the other for almost getting shot.

contract renewal or new contracts is a whole event in their place. papers all over the kitchen and the living room, constantly going through highlighters, thinking out loud to each other all the time. george works under the table at a local bookshop that lets him use their printer to get all the contracts in physical media, and they let him take highlighters home too! before he got that job, he and max were going to the local library and printing them out in 20 paper chunks at a time to avoid getting in trouble, and it took forever.

pascale saw them get more scruffy with each race and eventually just couldn't take it anymore. the irony of george not eating his sandwich and instead lying to max and giving it to him later, is that if they'd just said that they were hungry, the leclerc's would've fed them both :( but they don't know any better, and the leclerc's still think there's an adult around. (an incredibly absent adult, sure, but they're certainly not thinking that max and george are alone.)

they absolutely still do the cuddle thing when they don't feel well. or when they're stressed, or overwhelmed, or really anything out of the norm! it's a comfort thing. the smau post is when their flight had been delayed, and while everyone else is trying to get comfy on airport chairs, the three of them have slept through worse, and they're very experienced at what's comfortable for them. (because when you've been sharing a bed and a bedroom for as long as they had, it's muscle memory.) it's also kind of nostalgic for them, because at this point they're in a two bedroom place (max and charles aren't together yet), and while max has no issues occasionally invading their bed when he wants comfort, it's not every night like it used to be.

They've also been known to catch power naps during race weekends in weird spots when there's a delay :)

[sugucide]

two weeks.

it's been two weeks since kento has been inside of you. He's gone months, hell even years without sex before he met you and he was fine. he didn't even wish for it like most of his bachelor counterparts did.

but now that he's had a taste of you? two weeks may as well be a death sentence. which is ironic, giving the nature of this sex ban. everything you do is inviting: maybe it's just his underworked sex drive or maybe he's reverted back to his teenage years because he sure does feel like an impatient, entitled brat whenever you walk past him.

he can smell you. not the smell of your perfume you spritz on each morning. not the product in you hair. not the moisturiser you use. but you, the scent of your self, your body, the skin he's so often inhaled as he bit down between your thighs or up the column of your neck. he can smell the memories of sex, sweaty and tangled in pheromones and all things primal.

he can hear you. not your words or laughter or the way you hum absentmindedly when you're pottering around the house. he can hear that sharp little intake of breath when you accidentally, or not-so-accidentally, brush against him. he can hear that whining tinge to your voice when you tell him you won't sleep with him, that you're punishing him, as if its moreso a punishment for you than him. he can remember the way you'd moan for him, desperate and glassy eyed and oh so perfect for him as he ruins you from the inside out.

he can't take it anymore.

"two weeks is more than enough time for me to think about my actions," he tells you over dinner one night, eyes cast downwards at his plate. "...and to come up with a suitable apology."

you place your chopsticks down at his last words and look up at your husband. "oh? let's hear it then."

over the frames of his glasses, kento's eyes meet yours. "i apologise for worrying you and risking my life for my work."

you tap your fingers against the table. "and will you continue to do it?"

"yes," he admits. "it's my job, one that i do well. if i die doing it, i hope it's in place of someone who didn't sign up for it, like you."

kento reaches over the table and takes your hand. "i can't just stop being a sorcerer. that would be too selfish of me. but i do promise that i will make more of an effort to reduce my chances of getting hurt from now on: no more unnecessary risks. okay?"

though that was all you needed to hear from him, you start to wonder if lifting the sex ban was a good idea when your pent-up husband is swiping plates from the dinner table to make room for you to lay back on it. claiming he can't wait the few extra second to carry you to the bedroom, he has you stripped and laid bare on the dining room table in no time, and he's ready for his meal.

"missed her," he mumbles as he parts your legs with a strong hand and bends down to kiss once at your clit. that's about and gentlemanly as it gets, though, because soon after he's making out with your pussy like he's a virgin. no technique, no precision, nothing but unfiltered need and its so much hotter than you'd imagine it to be.

eyes locking onto yours from between your thighs, he adds two fingers and works you open. two weeks was a long time for the both of you, so he'll need to get you used to the stretch of him again. he scissors his fingers inside of you, curls them upwards to hit your g-spot and smirks like a saint when your back arches off the table in response.

"missed you ken," you ramble on as your climax nears. "missed you so much. hated doing this. love you. loveyouloveyou god i love you."

you cum hard, harder than you've cum in a long time and kento laps it up like he's never tasted anything so good. he savours your taste on his tongue like he would an aged wine, something expensive and delicious and worth keeping bottled. though he's harder than diamond and worried he'll cum in his pants if he doesn't sink inside of you soon. so he stands and undoes his belt in record time (with those lovely hands of his) and repositions you at the end of the table with his leaky cock already pressing against your wet entrance.

he leans over you and shares a kiss with you as he pushes in. he inhales the gasp you let out at the stretch and moans into your mouth as a gift in return. he pulls out almost entirely, so it's just his head nestled in your tight pussy, and then slams in again. hard.

"god kento—" you start, about to chide him for being so rough with you when you notice his face dip into your neck and the sudden warmth filling you from the inside. kento's hips stutter and he bites at the skin of your shoulder to muffle the heavy moans that ache to free themselves from his chest.

"did you just—"

"don't," he cuts you off, cock twitching inside of you with his release. he's plugging you up, keeping you full of him and his cum. "give me a minute and i'll fuck you so stupid that you forget that just happened."

"you just—"

"don't laugh."

"im not laughing! it's just, you know like our first time..."

"shut up." kento's hips pull away and then slam back into yours as he starts a brutal pace with you.

that shuts you up good.

[yujisdreamgirl]

husband!nanami who is also the father of your 2 children. dated for 6 years and married for 3–you couldn’t ask for anything more.

husband!nanami who is visibly confused during a conversation he had with his colleagues.

nanami usually avoids the break room whilst it was crowded. unfortunately, on a rare day that he’s forgotten to pick up his coffee from his favourite café, he had to walk into a break room full of a bunch of his coworkers talking about their children’s birthdays. they immediately turn to nanami who was standing in the corner and involved him in the conversation.

“it’s my daughter’s birthday soon. yeah i’m probably getting her one of those dolls and shit—she’s turning 5.” the suited up man takes a sip out of his coffee.

nanami nods apprehensively, wishing to leave the room already. “that’s nice. what are you getting for your wife?” he asks.

“what?” all four of his coworkers turned to look at him, and suddenly it felt like an episode of The Voice.

“…don’t you get your wife a gift when it’s your children’s birthdays??” the only time nanami is ever confused is when he does crossword puzzles. this.. is a whole different level.

his coworkers laugh at the absurd statement, some scoff and one pats nanami on the back.

—

nanami drives back home from work but he was more quiet than usual. he would typically turn the radio on and tap his fingers on the steering wheel to the beat. the car however was dead silent.

“who doesn’t give their wife a gift..? tch.”

“do these young men even love their wives anymore? eugh.”

“y/n always seems really happy when i give her gifts on the girls’ birthday.. i can’t imagine not giving her any.”

—

he arrives home and parks in the garage, sighing and cracking his back before bursting through the door.

“i’m h—” before he could finish his sentence, his 3-year-old twin girls came running to hug him.

“daddy! daddy! you’re home!” they giggle and cling onto his legs as nanami leans over to place his hand on your back and kiss your lips. “hello my darlings,” he smiles.

“you’re home early.”

“just missed my girls a lot.”

—

it’s 11pm. the kids are asleep and you’ve done your skincare, the night lamp on as you lay in bed with your husband.

as you snuggle under the sheets, you suddenly feel big arms snake around your torso. you giggle and pull them closer to you before deciding to turn around and face the man beside you. you lay your head on his chest and he immediately caresses your back.

“my love?” nanami speaks up.

“yeeeees?” you sing. he holds you tighter now, before uttering: “you know how i give you a gift for the girls’ birthday?”

you smile softly at the memory—how could you forget? every birthday for three years, he always manages to surprise you with a gift. he treasures the day dearly. it’s your daughters’ birthday but it’s your birth-day.

“i just found out that not every father does that. at least.. my coworkers don’t.” you look up at him now, seeing his scrunched eyebrows and solemn pout—you can already tell it bothers him. “it’s absurd, isn’t it? what do you think?”

you hum, your eyes never leaving his expression. “to be honest, i’ve never witnessed someone do what you do. it’s not exactly common practice,”

nanami sighs, “i guess you’re right. i just love you so much, you know? i’ll keep showing my appreciation on the day that means a lot to me, to us. it’s the day we became a family and i.. i want to make sure you know how important you are, too.” his voice is soft, as though he's been carrying this thought for a while. you blink, the weight of his words settling in your chest. he doesn't say it often, but when he does, it’s clear he means every syllable.

a small laugh escapes you, touched by his sincerity. “i know, baby. and i’m thankful for it, for you.”

he presses a kiss to your forehead, his arms tightening around you as if he’s trying to hold on to the moment. “me too, darling. more than you’ll ever know.”

͙͘͡★ dividers by @bernardsbendystraws & @cafekitsune 👔

[your-internet-bf]

We hadn't always gotten along. When our parents got married, we could barely stand each other. How could we get along with some brat we barely knew? Luckily, I had an idea. I bought a clicker - you know, the one they use to train dogs? - and got to work.

I started with "thank you". Every time you said it, maybe at dinner, in the car, at a restaurant, I pressed the clicker. You couldn't tell where the sound was coming from, and nobody else seemed to know what you were talking about. But soon, I started helping you with chores around the house and when we finished, *click*. And without really thinking about it, you'd say "thank you."

A few months passed, and you'd started to notice things about me. I took care of myself. I was clean, and I exercised regularly. You'd hang around when you knew I'd be back from the gym just to catch a whiff of the sweat and metal on me when I returned - our eyes caught once when you got a little too close, and for the first time you saw something primal, a little dark, in my gaze. But it passed in an instant.

We started getting along better, now. So one day, when you were lying on the couch with a snack bowl, I snatched it up and motioned to throw it into your mouth. Well, innocent enough, right? And it wasn't like I was eating much, so it's fine, right? Every time you open your mouth to catch, *click*, *click*, *click*.

Then, I invited you to come work out with me. Every time you did a squat, *click*. I told you it was a metronome to keep your intensity up, but you noticed the bulge in my sweatpants was bigger than usual. Wait, when did you start noticing my bulge, especially enough to know that...?

Finally, it was time. I'd been listening outside your bedroom door for weeks now, and I knew when you'd be asleep. I quietly opened your door and stepped into your room, locking it behind me. You stirred at the sound of the lock clicking, but I wasn't afraid.

I gingerly pulled down the covers and just... stared for a while. I'd never taken the time to really look at how beautiful you are, how gorgeous those curves were. I could hardly stand it. As you lay on your side, I took out the clicker, and *click* it once. Laying on your side, like you were on the couch with the snacks, you obediently open your mouth.

I pull down my pants, my long, thick cock swinging between my thighs. I brush the back of my hand over your cheek, then set it firmly against the back of your head, and push into your mouth.

You wake up almost immediately, but my hand stops you from pulling back as I force inch after throbbing inch down your throat. The more you struggle, the tighter you feel, the harder I push, until you felt your nose press into my hips. You push as hard as you can against me, but I'm so much bigger and stronger than you it doesn't do anything. I don't even budge.

I start to grind into your skull, making you swallow the thick, heavy head of my cock again and again, as I groan in pleasure. I start thrusting harder and harder, making your eyes water as I slam my hips into your face again and again, until finally, mercifully, I release inside you, deep inside your throat. You feel me pulse with your whole mouth, and you struggle to swallow each load of thick, hot, sticky cum while I'm still inside you.

With a shuddering breath, I pull out, letting you breathe properly for the first time in minutes. I watch while you cough and catch your breath, and then I ask, "what do you say?"

You breathe in intending to scream, but then you hear it, just one soft *click*, and all you can say is "thank you".

You stare at me, confused. I wipe my cum off your chin with my thumb, and *click* again. "Thank you", you say.

"I knew it. You're such a good girl, aren't you? Now," I push you onto your back, "spread for me."

*click*

You raise your legs to either side, exactly like you're doing a squat.

"I don't - I don't understand," you whimper, legs still in the air.

"You don't have to," I reply, reaching one hand between your legs to feel how wet you are.

"You're soaking, little girl," as I bring my hand up for you to see... Then make you taste it. I reach back down and slip in two of my thick, strong fingers, and cover your mouth with my other hand as you moan. I press up in just the right spot, rubbing in tight, quick circles so deliciously that you can't help but arch your back and grind into me. You feel the pleasure build and all thought leaves your mind; the only thing that matters is my fingers inside you, the scent of my hand over your mouth, and the lingering taste of me.

But before you can finish I pull my fingers out, pressing up and out, leaving you twitching and gasping. "Not yet," I mutter, and I move myself down between your legs. I line up my cock, slapping it down on your tummy first. It reaches your navel, and you feel a wave of fear that only makes you wetter. I pull back, then start pushing in.

It's thick, thick, thick, and heavy. I stretch you out wider than you thought possible, pressuring you in every direction, spreading your aching cunt and making you feel full inside for the first time in your life. Long, deep strokes, moving your whole body with every thrust, reaching inside you, my breath coming fast and hard.

And you hear it again.

*click*

"Thank you," you choke out between sobs.

*click*

"Thank you," you moan.

*click*

"Thank you," you plead, tears in your eyes.

My strokes come faster now, slamming inside you like an animal as you continue to thank me for raping you. Finally, finally, finally, you feel me tense up and slam deep, deep, deep inside you, pressing your whole body into the bed, as I cum again. Huge, hot, sticky white loads of my cum shoot inside you, filling you, as my breath comes in gasps, and as I do you feel it too, now, the wave of pleasure cresting, and you cum, your legs squeezing together, your face screwed tight, moaning with the release of months of tension. And as you cum, you hear a new sound, a familiar sound, but it's deeper than the others...

*click*

And you cum harder, knowing I'm training you like a bitch in heat.

I climb up next to you, and just gaze into your eyes for a moment. Then I smile. "Let's go again."

*click*