#had him in my court and i was like well damn that sucks for you but im not letting this dude go if i know i have this boon on you 😁

[d1anna]

sorry i haven’t been online i’ve been hyperfixating on bolstering my dynasty in ck3

[in-class-daydreams]

Imagine ex-husband Geto makes it his mission to rile you up every time he sees you, but damn if he wasn't still stupid hot, even while antagonizing you.

This had to be the longest elevator ride ever.

You bet he's still using that ridiculous 14,000 yen maintenance shampoo. His hair is long and lush and it falls to frame his face just perfectly. His features were crafted by the heavens finer than the emperor's silk robes, but all that was ruined by, well, his entire personality.

"Daddy sent you on an errand again, huh?" Suguru asked mockingly. "What a sweet child you are, doing as he asks all the time."

"Bite me," you reply.

"I have. You seemed to enjoy it."

Fate dealt you a cruel hand when it forced you into the same tiny elevator as your ex-husband. What was he even doing at the courthouse, anyway?

"You know full well that I do have a day job, even if my father requires a good portion of my time," you reply tersely.

The nameplate outside your office door - arguably one of your most prized possessions - read your full name and in carefully etched letters underneath: "Prosecutor."

There were plenty of violent crimes that straddled a fine line between civilian and jujutsu jurisdiction. Your job was to ensure the due process of any such case in the gray while maintaining the barrier between the two societies.

This job was your life's dream, and having Suguru in the building brought back bittersweet memories.

"What are you even doing here?" you ask, facing the elevator doors and willing the machine to hurry up.

"Isn't it obvious? I'm testifying in court," he replies.

No jujutsu-related case reaches this court without you knowing, regardless of whether or not you're on the case yourself.

"You're not my witness," you say lightly.

"No, I'm not," he says with a sly smile.

So, the defense decided to bring in a special grade instructor as a witness. They're more desperate than you thought.

"Lucky me," Suguru says. "I do love watching you talk."

"Yeah, well, I love it when you shut the hell up," you snap.

Suguru takes a step into your personal space and you fight the urge to turn towards him. Of course he smells good. He always does - like incense and his favorite cologne with a smidge of that expensive shampoo.

"You want me to shut up?"

"Yes!"

"Make me, then."

While you have half a mind to hit the emergency stop button on the elevator and make this long elevator ride even longer, you have a reputation to uphold - business to stand on, if you will. You cup Suguru’s face and run a thumb over his bottom lip.

“Aw,” you coo. “You think I’m that easy?”

The elevator dings and you pull away just as the doors slide open for a colleague of yours.

Higuruma takes one look at you two and shakes his head.

“Oh no, I’m not getting into this. I’ll take the stairs,” he says.

“Relax, Hiromi, we’re playing nice,” you reply without looking at Suguru.

Higuruma reluctantly steps into the elevator.

“Aren’t you off today?” you ask.

Higuruma sucks his teeth, “Technically, yes, but I have a file that I need to fix and if I want to relax at all today, I have to hurry up and take care of it.”

There’s no reason why you can’t be both helpful and evil at the same time, so you rest a hand on his upper arm.

“Text me the file number and I’ll fix it.” Before he can protest, you add, “Seriously. You need a break.”

You feel another set of eyes burning into your hand at the gesture, but you don’t turn towards them even after the elevator dings and the owner stalks out.

Higuruma tiredly watches him go.

“You’re really going to use me to antagonize your ex-husband?” he says more than he asks.

The two of you step out onto the floor after him.

“I can get two things done at once,” you reply. “I would’ve offered to help you regardless.”

Higuruma seems to believe you, but looks unimpressed overall. “Right. Well, if you want, I have a precedent case that you may want to use in court today. If the defense is bringing in your ex as a witness, I see no reason to go easy on them. Two birds, one stone and all that.”

A voice in the back of your mind wonders how stupid his ex-fiancée had to be to let someone like him - that is, a little bit evil (in the best way) - go.

“And,” he continues. “I’m making dinner tonight. It’ll be done around 7 if you want to stop by.”

Obviously you do this because you want to, but there’s the added benefit of a certain lingering gaze further down the hall.

You lift up on tiptoe and place a chaste kiss on Higuruma’s cheek. Maintaining your reputation prevents you from getting too cute with it, but the sentiment is the same.

“Thanks, Hiromi. I’ll be there,” you tell him.

He looks at you vaguely amused. “You’re a terror of an ex.”

“Want me to cut it out?”

“No.” He glances over his shoulder at the retreating figure. “I didn’t say that.”

Suguru and his nepo baby were a match made in hell (affectionate)

[Masterlist] | Tag for this AU is #geto's nepo ex

[corpsebasil]

Just Friends 18+

You could not. Stop. Laughing.

You tripped over the edge of the couch and squeaked, almost hitting the floor before Nikolai wrapped an arm around your waist, catching you easily. Your husband fought for breath as well; you didn’t even remember what the hell he’d said that was so funny. And then you did.

A courtier during dinner had remarked on how cute the two of you were. You’d gave Nikolai the most aggressive side eye of your life, and he barely clamped down a laugh before winking at you.

“My wife outshines me, I’m sure.” He drawled, reaching over to twine his fingers with your own.

“She’s beautiful, yes.” The courtier smiled, pleased with his attention, and then looked to you, raising her delicate brows. “If it’s not too intrusive, will the court be expecting any princesses or princes soon?”

You’d coughed, choking on your wine at the prospect. You and Nikolai were a political alliance, arranged since you two were children; you had the chemistry of a science lab, unfortunately, but it only resulted in him being your closest friend and the easiest man to tease of your life.

“Oh yes.” Nikolai gave you the side eye this time, silently urging you to play the part. And then his next comment made your face go completely red. “Between you and me, I plan on bedding her as soon as this dinner is finished.”

You kicked his leg under the table, shooting him a look, and the courtier blushed madly.

“Oh my, that’s—” she blinked with embarrassment and found her napkin suddenly extremely interesting, giving up on a civilized conversation with the king.

So now the two of you were in your rooms, both still hot with amusement at how shamelessly he’d lied to the courtier.

“You’re a bastard.” You gasped, jumping away to head to the bedroom. He followed, still grinning, and watched as you set your crown on the side table like it was a watch, tugging at the laces on the back of your dress. “Shit, can you—”

“Yep.” His fingers found your stays as he undid them, used to having done this for you before. He’d had no idea how difficult women’s dresses were before he’d married you, watching you hop around in vain, reaching for strings just out of grasp. “And technically, sweetheart, I am a bastard.”

“If you’re a bastard I’m a usurper.” You groaned out loud when the corset finally loosened, allowing you to get a proper damn breath for once. “You’re as illegitimate as I am. Besides,” you turned and raised a brow, reaching out to unbutton the first few clasps of his shirt. “all monarchy is kind of illegitimate, don’t you think?”

“I love it when we think the same.”

You smiled as you worked, your hands lingering on the smooth material of his shirt as your eyes drank in the smooth, golden skin of his chest. You felt briefly distracted, fingertips reaching out to touch him, just a soft graze, before you sucked in a breath and whirled around.

“I’m running a bath.” You said, cheeks warming all over again, ignoring the feel of his curious eyes on your back.

The water warmed quickly, the large claw-footed tub spacious enough that you could sprawl out completely inside the thing. You added soaps and oils, turning the water milky white, then for fun added a couple of dried petals you saw in your shared bath-cabinet.

“Nik?” You called into the livingroom as you tied your hair up, clipping it into a pile of curls on the top of your head. “Could you get us a nightcap?”

You heard his noise of agreement as you stepped out of your clothes, slipping one dainty foot and then the other into the water. You sighed as you sank down into the warmth, the water reaching just above your chest as you pulled your knees up and wrapped your arms around them.

You heard Nikolai’s feet on the tile as he came into the bathroom, handing you a glass.

“What’s with you and your fancy baths?” He asked, sitting on the edge of the tub with a raised brow. He’d finished unbuttoning his shirt completely and it hung open, a clear view of his ridiculously chiseled top half on display. You ignored the sight and took a long sip of your drink.

“Better than roughing it with a garden hose and a three-in-one body wash like you and your men do in your war camps.”

Your husband laughed and shook his head slightly, agreeing wholeheartedly with you.

“That water hose is dangerous.” He confided, eyes widening comically. “Especially when the water pressure is too high. Could take your skin off.”

You giggled, setting your glass down beside the tub as you propped your elbows on your knees. His eyes wandered over your exposed skin, never lingering for too long anywhere, but you still felt the weight of his stare like an invisible hand.

“How come you’ve never tried to make a move on me?” You asked, brave only because of the drink, and his smirk was only half-hearted.

“I don’t take shots I think I’m going to miss, Y/N.”

Your smile was cautious as you reached out, grasping his hand. And then your expression turned wicked, and he barely had time to set his drink down, already protesting, before you yanked him into the tub. Your laugh was booming and, in Nikolai’s opinion, completely diabolical, as he wiped water from his eyes while he adjusted his back against the opposite side of the tub, his clothes completely soaked.

“You,” he said, jabbing an irritated finger, “are the bane of my existence. I swear on every Saint that you are.”

“You love me.” You teased, grinning fiendishly, but your heart skipped a beat when his expression seemed to soften, his eyeroll too late to save the moment of vulnerability. “You’re not going to miss, Nik. If you try it.” You added, scanning his face, and his smile grew mischievous.

“No?” He asked, voice low, but his eyes darkened when you moved forward, coming over to straddle his lap in the water. Your upper half was completely bare to him, your breath catching when his hands slid around your waist, running soft touches against your skin. “Y/N,” he swallowed roughly. “if we’re still joking, it ends here. Because,” he shook his head, still examining your naked torso. “Saints.”

“Still the bane of your existence?” You asked, voice quiet, as you slipped your hands around his neck and kissed him as soft as you dared.

You both seemed to inhale at the same time, his arms gripping you tighter as your heart dropped into your stomach. He was your friend, your best friend but—you were also married to the man. Surely that entitled some sorts of…physical benefits.

“That courtier doesn’t even know you weren’t lying.” You smiled a bit arrogantly, pulling back to shove his sodden shirt off of him. It hit the tile next to the tub in a wet splat, and both your heads turned at the sound.

“We’ll get it later.” Nikolai promised, and then grasped your face in his hands, kissing you hard. He let out a small noise of pleasure against your mouth and, when his tongue brushed your lips, you let him in.

Your eyes practically rolled back when he grounded you down into him, and suddenly he was way too clothed for your liking. The water sloshed as you pulled away and reached down, yanking at his trousers.

“This would’ve been much more convenient, darling, if you would’ve asked me to get naked before I got in the water.”

“Just—” you huffed in annoyance but finally got them down his hips, and he lifted you up for a moment as he pulled them off, the soaked clothing joining his shirt with another comical splat.

You both laughed, then, at the ridiculousness, but your laughter quickly died in your throat when he scooped you back up into his lap and began kissing your neck, his other hand moving lower, and lower. You gasped when he nipped your skin in the same moment he ran his fingers across you, then slid inside, curling gently as he hit the spot that made your stomach drop.

“You taste oddly floral.” He mused, running his tongue over your skin as he lazily fucked you with his fingers.

“Oh my god, Nik.” You whispered, slipping a hand into his hair to wrap around the blond curls.

“Yes, wife?”

“I want you.”

“Where? Tell me, love.”

You glanced down at him and gave him an annoyed look that faltered the second his fingers curled again, making your breaths heave in your chest. So you leaned into him, kissing him deeply before you spoke.

“I want you inside me.” You said against his mouth, and when you pulled away his eyes were so lust filled that the pang of desire that rushed through you would’ve knocked you on your ass had you been standing.

Nikolai didn’t say a word, only removed his hand and guided you further up over him, and you sank down on him in a smooth motion that made your head spin. He let out a gasping noise and gripped your waist, both of you struggling to breathe through the pleasure.

“You feel—” his voice was so hoarse and low you got chills. “shit.”

“Yeah,” you agreed, and slipped your arms around his neck, rolling your hips against his.

The water wasn’t nearly as warm as your skin as he thrust up, tugging your hips down to meet him every time. Your face pressed against his shoulder, your breathing ragged, and then you squeaked when he stood up suddenly, sending water sloshing onto the floor.

“Nik!” You yelped, even as your legs wrapped around his waist, changing the angle to a new, burning one. He kissed you as he walked, exiting the bathroom, ignoring your giggling protests as the both of you got water all over the floor. “Nikolai stop it you’re soaking the floor.”

“We’re soaking the floor, love. And the couch.”

“The—?” Your words were cut off when he laid you on top of the couch, settling back into you, snapping his hips against your own so hard you gasped, almost knocking your head against the arm of the couch. “Nikolai—”

“Fuck.” He groaned, burying his face in your neck as you took him, every inch of his gorgeous body pressed tight against yours.

You inhaled sharply when the sudden coil of pleasure, building so fast you’d hardly sensed it, snapped, and you let out a cry as he held you tighter to him, not letting you move an inch. He let out a soft moan against your skin and shuddered, the both of you trembling as you came down from the high. And then he was scooping you back up, into his lap, your breathing shallow as your heart raced in your chest.

“So,” Nikolai’s chest rose and fell quickly, his hands sliding up your bare, still wet back as his eyes studied your flushed face. “should I consider this a one time thing, or—”

You cut him off with a bruising kiss, your chest warm with an emotion you couldn’t place, especially when he kissed you back, a hand slipping into your wet hair and undoing the clip that held it up. As it tumbled around your shoulders he smiled softly, running his fingers through the strands.

“You’ve got gorgeous hair, you know that?” He said, tone almost contemplative, even as you blushed. His lips found your own again, soft and sweet, before he lifted you again, this time headed to your bed.

“Oh no,” you protested, grabbing the doorframe as you passed, legs still wrapped tightly around his waist. “we are not getting in bed wet. I refuse.”

“Whatever the lady wants.” Nikolai sighed, setting you down and heading off to get towels.

You watched him go, fighting an internal squeal as you realized exactly what you’d just done. And holy gods the man knew what he was doing when he made love. You grinned involuntarily as your eyes landed on your crown, even though you knew he’d tease you mercilessly if he saw what a girlish mess you’d become after he’d kissed and—

“Y/N?” You almost jumped out of your skin at his sudden words, spinning around to snatch a towel from him. His eyes glimmered with amusement, raising an eyebrow. “Daydreaming about me?”

“Of course not.” You lied, drying off and slipping a nightgown over your head. “I was thinking about chocolate. It’s very delicious.”

“Want me to get you some?” He offered, still amused, and you rolled your eyes.

“No. Now get in bed so I can kiss you again.”

His laughter was cut off by your mouth when you turned the lights off and practically pounced on him, his body warm and perfect against your own. You kissed for a while, just kissing, learning each other all over again as his hands ran over your skin, yours in his hair and grasping the back of his neck.

And the next morning, when a maid came in to bring tea and saw the absolute mess you two had made, water drying on the tiles and your sodden clothes by the still full tub, she blushed profusely and quickly left, not bothering to wait for dismissal.

[rubytuby]

surprise

patrick zweig x fem!reader 

word count: 3.3k (LOL)

warnings: established relationship with patrick because i'm lazy, art is your best friend, mentions of getting drunk but it's college so like to be expected… also allusions to sex haha but um i just love to write a cutesy plot.

note: i am normal about patrick zweig, i feel so normal about him #needthat. jokes, but i am in love with him its so bad, i wish he was real. also please don't be offended by my tashi erasure, still love her, but she didn't exactly fit in here. obv this is not canon bc you're dating patrick in stanford era instead of tashi, anyways, hope you enjoy <3.

FEBRUARY 23 2007, STANFORD

The sun hung low, casting long shadows over the tennis courts as you and Art wrapped up your practice session. Both of you were drenched in sweat, Art slung his tennis bag over his shoulder and jogged over, his face lighting up with a mischievous grin.

“So uh, want to walk back to the dorms together?” he asked, sounding overly eager.

You squinted at him, wiping your forehead with the back of your hand. “Sure, but I need to shower first. You know, make it seem like I haven’t been pushed to my physical limits,” you said, gesturing to your sweaty attire.

Art laughed. “You have a single, why don't you just wait until you get back to your dorm?”

You groaned, shoving your racket into your bag. “That's the problem. The maintenance guy showed up at 7:30 this morning to tell us they’re shutting off the water from 8:00 a.m. to 4:00 p.m. only on my floor for some urgent plumbing issue.”

“Damn, that sucks. Are they even allowed to do that without giving anyone notice?”

“That's what I asked, but apparently, giving us 30 minutes notice is considered adequate. So, technically, they can,” you replied, rolling your eyes in exasperation. “I’ll be quick, though. Just need to rinse off. If you don’t wanna wait for me to chill, you can walk back to the dorms. I won’t be offended.”

Art shook his head. “I’ve got time, I’ll wait. I’ve gotta call someone anyways,” he said plopping down the bench and pulling out his phone.

“Alright weirdo, if you’re sure,” you said, dropping your tote bag next to him. “I’ll be super quick.” With that, you darted off to the girls' locker room.

As soon as you disappeared, Art pulled out his phone and dialed Patrick’s number. The phone barely rang before Patrick answered, his voice tense with impatience.

“Are you guys on the fucking way yet or am I going to have to wait longer?”

“Hello, sunshine!” Art greeted cheerily. “Your beloved is taking a quick shower. We’ll be there in about 25 to 30 minutes.”

Patrick groaned loudly. “Why didn’t you just tell her to shower in her dorm? I’ll lick the sweat off her if it means not waiting any longer.”

Art grimaced at his best friend’s comment. “The water’s out on her floor. She said she’s literally only rinsing off and changing. Just be patient. I’ll text you when to leave so we can time it perfectly.” A sigh rang out on the other line.

“If this plan doesn’t work and I’ve been hiding from my girlfriend for a couple hours for no reason, I’m going to seriously hurt you,” Patrick grumbled, staring out Art’s dorm window.

“Well she definitely thinks you're in New York visiting your parents,” Art paused, “I just had to talk her down from buying a plane ticket, so I think we’re good.”

“I told her I just got into the city a couple hours ago when I actually got to SFO. She was so upset yesterday when I said it’d be five days until we saw each other. She called me a fucking asshole, so I dont know what to do anymore.” Patrick said as he flopped onto Arts bed.

Art scribbled on his worksheet, humming in response. “Well, at least you know that she definitely misses you.”

“Yeah, but I’m not sure if she misses me or just wants to slap me in the face,” Patrick replied, exasperated.

Just then, Art saw you coming out of the locker room, chatting with one of your friends on the team. “Hopefully not the latter. Anyway she’s out. See you at 15. Don’t be late,” Art said flatly before hanging up, knowing Patrick and his unfortunate untimeliness. 

Art smiled up at you as you approached. “Who was that?” you asked, eyebrows raised.

“Our shared lover,” Art replied with a laugh, haphazardly shoving his worksheet and phone into his bag as he stood up.

“Aww, any exciting updates from Pat? He still stuck with his parents for another five days?” you teased, sticking your tongue out playfully.

“He just got to the city. He mentioned playing on the East River courts and paying someone to hold a spot for him,” Art lied smoothly.

“Sounds about right,” you said, sighing. “Anyway, I was talking to Nathalie over there…” you squinted, linking arms with Art as the two of you started the walk back to your dorm. “She mentioned a frat party happening tonight. Since Patrick’s trapped in New York, I figured why not go?”

“There’s going to be a keg stand, a ton of alcohol, and some shitty DJ or something,” you added, glancing at a group of students touring the campus before turning back to Art.

Art nodded, slightly wincing at the mention of the keg stand. “Wow, sounds like a lot of fun,” he replied sarcastically, earning a nod of agreement from you.

“I was planning on skipping it, but Nathalie really wants me to go. I thought if you came with me, it might actually be fun. Better than wallowing in my room wishing Patrick was here,” you admitted, biting your lip.

"Well, we had fun at that party last Friday, you remember right?" Art asked, smirking.

"Remember is a strong word," you replied, shaking your head with a laugh. "I think I have bits and pieces from that night. I do remember waking up still drunk at noon with my t-shirt on backwards and you snoring next to me in bed. Also like 5 missed calls from Patrick."

Art flashed you a lopsided grin. "Well, your bed's comfy, but I thought I was going to roll off in the middle of the night."

"Well, I stayed in my corner, I was flush against the wall as you were all sprawled out making yourself at home on my bed," you teased, nudging him playfully.

As you approached your dorm building, you noticed Art’s phone buzz. He glanced at it quickly, fumbling to put it away as a smile grew on his face. “What’s with the grin, weirdo?” you asked, narrowing your eyes suspiciously.

“Oh, nothing. Just a funny text,” Art replied too quickly, stuffing his phone back into his pocket.

You rolled your eyes. “You’re terrible at lying, you know that?”

“Who, me? Who said I’m lying, I’m the picture of innocence,” Art said defensively.

You shook your head. “Sure you are. Anyway, I think I’m gonna drop my stuff on the floor, crawl into bed, and maybe take a nap. Maybe we can think about that party, I can call you at 11 so we can pregame.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Art said with a nod. “I’ll walk you to your door.”

You smiled gratefully as the two of you ascended the stairs to your floor. Art talked animatedly about his plans for the weekend while you half-listened, preoccupied with thoughts of collapsing onto your bed and taking a deserved long nap.

"Yeah anyways, I'm thinking of catching up on some studying, this english class is kicking my ass," Art continued, unaware of your drifting attention. "Maybe I’ll go on a run later though. You could join me if you wanted, if you’re up."

"Maybe," you replied absentmindedly, reaching a hand into your tote bag sifting for your keys.

As you reached your door, frustrated with your bag, you dropped your tennis bag and lifted your whole tote up, practically sticking your face in it to find your keys. "I hate these fucking tote bags, I can’t find shit," you grumbled to Art, feeling a tap on your shoulder.

Startled, you turned around with a scowl— until you saw Patrick standing there, a mischievous grin on his face. "Patrick! What the fuck? What are you doing here-” you exclaimed, letting your tote bag fall to the floor and throwing your arms around him in a tight hug.

Patrick laughed, hugging you back just as tightly. "Surprise" he exclaimed, holding you close, smiling at Art over your shoulder.

You pulled back slightly, giving him an incredulous look. "You asshole! Trapped in New York with my parents, my ass!" you shook your head, playfully hitting him on the chest.

Patrick held his chest dramatically and leaned in, kissing your cheek lightly. "All part of the plan," he murmured. “Plus, I had a little help," he added, nodding towards Art, who was standing nearby with a smug expression.

You turned in Patrick's arms to face Art, scoffing in shock. "Art, you were in on this? You’re such a liar," you exclaimed.

Art shrugged. "Hey, I was just hosting him at my dorm while we were at practice. Technically, I didn’t lie—I just omitted a few details," he explained, grinning.

"How could you do this to me? Traitor!" you said dramatically, though a smile tugged at the corner of your lips.

Patrick wrapped his arms tighter around your waist, pulling you closer against him and resting his head on your shoulder. "Come on. You know it was worth it," he said, his tone teasing.

You sighed playfully, shaking your head at the pair of them. "I guess I can forgive you both this time," you conceded.

Patrick’s hand gently brushed through your hair as he settled his head into the curve of your neck. “You know I can’t stand it when you’re mad at me,” he said softly.

As you lingered in Patrick's embrace, you paused. "Wait, where's all your stuff?" you asked, pulling back slightly and turning to look up at him.

Patrick grinned, nodding towards your door. "In your dorm," he replied casually.

“Wow, Breaking and entering," you quipped, crossing your arms squinting at Art.

Art interjected with a laugh, "Actually, perfectly legal entering. You're the one who gave me a spare key."

You shook your head, "That's for emergencies, Art," you retorted, shooting him a mock glare.

Patrick turned you around to face him, his hands resting gently on your shoulders. "Come on, admit it, you're impressed," he teased.

You sighed, "I'm shocked you guys were able to pull this off, honestly," you admitted, shaking your head with amusement. Patrick laughed softly, rubbing your back soothingly.

Reluctantly pulling away from Patrick's arms, you grabbed your tote bag from the floor, turning to face Art and Patrick. "As much as this hallway talk is very exciting, I seriously need to find my keys. I'm exhausted," you declared half-joking.

After a brief search through your bag, you finally located your keys nestled among your belongings. Patrick picked up your tennis bag with a playful grin, indicating his readiness to follow you inside.

"Alright, Art, thank you," Patrick called out over his shoulder as you unlocked the door.

Art waved casually. "Have fun, be safe you two. I'll see you later," he replied as he walked down the hallway.

As the two of you entered your dorm room, you barely had enough time to place your bags on the floor before Patrick closed the gap between you and him and crashed his lips onto yours. His hands pulled you against him as he pressed your back against the door, placing his hands on either side of you almost boxing you in. His kisses were sloppy, teeth colliding as his lips moved against yours, hands desperately roaming your body, as if he couldn't get close enough to you.

You responded eagerly, melting into his embrace, your own hands finding their way into his hair, tugging him closer. His lips moved hungrily against yours, his tongue tracing your lower lip, hands roaming over your back, then up to cradle your face, pushing strands of hair away as he deepened the kiss.

"Patrick," you managed to gasp between kisses, your chest rising and falling with each breath. "I... I need to put my stuff away," you painted, reluctantly pulling back

Patrick leaned back, a mischievous smirk on his face, moving over to lean against your desk. "Sure," he murmured, his gaze lingering on you as you took out some things from your bag. "So, how was practice?" he asked, his voice low, as he looked you up and down.

You scoffed, a hint of satisfaction playing on your lips as you organized. "Heinous. I keep getting paired with this girl on the team who can't return any of my serves," you replied exasperatedly, glancing over at him.

Patrick raised an eyebrow, "maybe you should just go easy on her."

You shook your head, clicking your tongue in frustration. "I've tried to go easy on her, but she can't even play me when I do that. She acts like it's my fault she can't play for shit," you paused to sigh.

Patrick grinned, tracing a hand up and down your arm. "We both know you're too good for stanford women's tennis," he murmured, moving from the desk to stand behind you, his hands coming to rest on your hips and giving them a quick squeeze.

You whipped your head around, rolling your eyes and scoffing at his comment. "Careful," you say firmly.

Patrick put his hands up in mock surrender, his cocky grin never faltering. "Alright, alright. Sorry, my bad," he said. "You're right."

As an unspoken apology, Patrick moved closer, his hands gently moving up to your waist as he leaned in to kiss your neck softly. His lips left a warm trail on your skin, "I missed you," he murmured between kisses, his breath hot against your ear. “So much.”

You tilted your head slightly, allowing him better access, closing your eyes briefly to savor the sensation. "I missed you too," you hummed, your voice softening as you turned to face him fully. Your hands came to rest on his chest. "You know, I wish you would’ve just told me you were coming," you teased, carding your fingers through his hair.

Patrick's playful demeanor softened as he gazed into your eyes, his fingers brushing against your cheek as he pushed a stray lock of hair behind your ear. "Sorry again," he murmured sincerely, his breath mingling with yours. "Do you still love me?" he asked, clearly teasing and testing you.

You couldn't help but smile, your fingers threading through the strands of his hair at the nape of his neck. "I still love you, even with your elaborate lies," you replied, planting a sweet kiss on his lips. "But I have to say I knew something was up. Art was being weirder than normal."

Patrick hummed, his hands gently caressing your sides as he leaned in for another kiss.

"Hey? Are you even listening to me?" you asked, blinking up at him, a playful smirk tugging at your lips.

Patrick paused, his forehead resting against yours as he looked into your eyes. "Sorry, what did you say? I was a little distracted," he said, smiling.

You laughed softly, giving him a light shove. “I said Art was acting weirder than normal. I could tell he was hiding something.”

He shook his head and grinned, suddenly, he scooped you up over his shoulder, eliciting a surprised laugh from you as he carried you to the bed. Playfully flopping you down, his hands on either side of your head as he leaned in to kiss you again, his lips warm and insistent.

"So, what's our plan for tonight?" he asked between kisses, his fingers tracing light patterns on your sides.

You sighed softly, your words catching in your throat as his kisses became more fervent. "Well, there's this party my friend invited me to," you managed to say, struggling to speak coherently. "But last time I went out with Art, it was a shit show," you paused, trying to focus as his lips trailed down your collarbone, "but you're here, so we can do… whatever you want," you finally managed to say, your voice breathless with desire.

"Can we?" Patrick teased, his tone dripping with innuendo, his kisses becoming more urgent and needy.

You sighed deeply, rolling your eyes. "You know, you're impossible," you muttered, shaking your head. "But yes, we can."

Patrick grinned triumphantly, his hands roaming over your body as he leaned in to kiss you again, his hunger for you evident in every touch and movement. "Good," he murmured against your lips. "I think I just want you to be myself tonight."

"Freaky," you quipped, biting your tongue to hide a laugh.

With a self-assured grin, Patrick swiftly removed his T-shirt, revealing his lean and tan body. His gaze never left yours as he leaned back in, his lips finding yours with intensity. Your fingers traced lightly over his chest as you meshed together, and through kisses, you opened your eyes for a moment, gaze fixed on the freckles dotting his nose and cheeks.

"You've got more freckles," you observed with a playful smile, pulling back slightly, teasingly tracing each tiny mark with your fingertip.

Patrick grinned warmly, his eyes crinkling as he removed his lips from yours pulling you into a tight hug. "You're so cute," he murmured, squeezing you against him. His hands gently moved up to cup your face, his thumbs brushing against your cheeks as he pulled you closer, lips looking for another kiss with a soft sigh of contentment slipping out. His gaze, filled with adoration and longing, locked onto yours, silently expressing his deep affection.

"Fuck, you're so pretty," he whispered, his voice low and filled with awe. You locked eyes with him, your own expression softening as you smiled, your fingers tracing the curve of his jaw.

Without breaking eye contact, Patrick's hands moved to the hem of your T-shirt, his touch almost insistent. He lifted the fabric, exposing your skin to the cool air and his heated gaze, with the T-shirt slipped over your head and thrown to the floor, forgotten. His gaze traveled downward, taking in the sight of you, bare-chested in front of him, a cheeky grin began to spread across his face. 

You rolled your eyes, whacking his arm. "Are you 13?" you teased.

Patrick laughed, unfazed as his hands and mouth roamed your newly exposed skin, his lips moving back to your collarbone, placing soft kisses along its length. Your remaining clothes were shed in a flurry, falling to the floor as you both moved with urgency desperately reconnecting.

Finally, as your kisses slowed and the two of you were breathing somewhat heavily, you rolled onto him, resting your head on his chest. His arms wrapped around you instinctively, pulling you close, with the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath your ear.

"I love you," Patrick murmured softly, placing a lovingly sweet kiss onto your forehead.

You met his gaze with a soft smile. "Is that just because we had incredible reunion sex?" you teased lightly, a playful challenge in your voice. "Or do you love me all the time?"

Patrick laughed, his fingers moving up and down on your back. "Only for the sex, it's usually worth the plane ticket," he teased back, with a smile. "Just kidding. I love you all the time," he replied earnestly, as a grin started forming on his face.

Leaning up from his chest, you pressed a sloppy kiss against his mouth, your hands tangling into his hair as you felt the corners of his lips curve into a smile against yours. "I knew it," you murmured against his lips, a hint of amusement in your voice.

"Say it back," Patrick urged with a playful grin, attempting to deepen the kiss, but you playfully pulled away before he could capture your lips again.

Rolling your eyes theatrically, you feigned annoyance, though your smile betrayed your true feelings. "Fine," you replied, leaning in to kiss him once more. "I love you too, freak."

[suskz]

Jock Jisung

asked by: @madzitzalt

pairing: Jock!Jisung x Nerd!Fem!Reader (uhh, she’s not that nerdy in this one 😅)

t/w: smut ; switch Jisung (mostly sub) ; mostly dom reader ; riding ; unprotected sex (don’t do that kids).

w/c: around 1.3k

a/n: my first Jisung ask yayy!! Hope you like it!! 😊

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

You knew you shouldn't have agreed, but faced with your boyfriend's puppy eyes, you didn't have the courage to say no.

And here you are now, in the middle of the basketball court, ready to catch the ball that Felix is about to throw to you.

"Y/n, catch it!" he yells at you from a little further away.

And you actually manage to catch it. But by the time you realise it, it has already been taken away.

"Too slow!" Minho teases you, moving away with the ball and scoring a basket.

You sigh, cheeks flushed with embarrassment. You suck at sports. You don't even know why they wanted you to play a game with them after practice.

"It will be fun." Jisung told you, "You'll see, you won't be that bad."

You mentally thank the whistle that signals the end of the game. When you turn in the direction of your boyfriend, who is looking at you with a mischievous smile, there's only one thing you can think of.

He did it to watch you in the shorts he gave you, didn't he?

“These will help you move better!” His damn horny mind has once again won over you.

You hold back from rolling your eyes and turn towards the other guys, who are heading to the locker rooms.

“Well done!” Chan says. You smile shyly at him, but that doesn’t mean you agree with him.

“At least you made one basket.” Seungmin says teasingly, and you immediately lower your hand to avoid giving him a high-five.

Soon after, you feel someone standing next to you, and a hand lands on one of your butt cheeks.

You look around carefully to make sure no one is watching, but almost everyone is already inside the locker room. You still feel your cheeks heat up at the thought that someone might have seen.

“Don’t listen to him, you did great.” He plants a sweet kiss on your neck. But he doesn’t stop there.

You’re pressed against the wall by his body as you kiss. The gym is empty, and the only sound that can be heard is that of your tongues meeting.

Your breaths are heavy, and a moan escapes his lips when you pull apart.

His hands are still on your butt as he begins to press his semi-hard cock, still covered by his pants, against your clothed pussy.

“Jisung, stop.”

“Baby, please.” His desire is evident in his voice as well as on his face as he looks at you.

“Ji, we’re in the gym.” You point out, shocked.

“No one’s here. No one will see us,” he insists, squeezing your asscheeks. “Please, I need you so bad.”

“Not here.” you say firmly, trying to push him away from your body.

“But— I’m so hard, it won’t take long, I promise.” There’s a light desperation in his voice as he looks at you with pleading eyes.

“You can hold out until the dorm, I know you can.”

He huffs and separates from you.

But he’s immediately back on you as soon as the door of his dorm room closes.

Almost immediately, your shirt is thrown to the floor and his mouth is on your breasts. Oh, how he has longed to touch you.

His moans can be heard over your heavy breath as his tongue circles around your nipples and his teeth nip at them.

Two of his fingers from both hands slip under your tight shorts, feeling the soft skin of your cheeks, pulling them up as much as he can to reveal more of your body.

He pulls away from your breasts and positions his face at your eye level, “You have no idea what these shorts do to me.” He squeezes your cheeks firmly between his hands, “I couldn’t take my eyes off you the whole game.”

“I noticed.”

He chuckles. He moves his head to your ear. “You have no idea how much I had to hold back from getting hard in front of everyone.” he whispers, licking a sensitive spot behind your ear that makes you sigh.

“How hard?” You raise a leg to rub your knee against the crotch of his pants, eliciting a sweet sound from him directly into your ear, “Like this?”

His hips instinctively press against your leg, but you pull it back.

He whines, “Stop teasing me.”

You don’t respond to his words. Instead, you place a hand on his chest, pushing him to lift himself above you until you end up on top of him.

You brush his ear with your lips. “I want to ride you.” you whisper, sending shivers through his body.

You quickly undress each other, and finally, you lower yourself onto his cock, letting it enter you.

You do it slowly, and Jisung has to use every bit of self-control he has not to thrust up into you and enter too quickly, his head thrown back.

“You’re so tight.” he pants, looking at you with dark eyes. His grip on your thighs loosens. His arms wrap around your waist, and his head rests between your breasts.

“Can you move now? Please?”

“So impatient.” you say, but still comply with his request.

You start slowly, lifting and lowering your hips carefully, but soon your movements pick up speed.

And Jisung can do nothing but sit and watch your hips roll and your breasts bounce, not that he’s complaining.

However, he can’t help the small movements of his hips pushing into you as best as he can.

“Stay—still.” you order him, and he obeys.

But his hands grip your hips tightly as if wanting to guide your movements, and you let him.

“You’re so wet.” he whispers between moans.

He must hold them back, he knows, but when you take control like this his mind goes blank and he’s weak.

Your forehead rests against his, “Shh,” you shush him and place a hand over his mouth, muffling his groans, “You hear this?”

And his head falls back with a loud moan. The sound of your bodies slapping and the wet sound that arises from his cock continuously entering and exiting your tight cunt are a fucking weakness for him.

You smile when you feel his cock pulsating inside you.

“Baby, fuck, that’s so hot.” he whimpers.

His face inches closer to yours to kiss you but you pull away, teasing him.

His eyebrows are still furrowed in pleasure. “Baby, let me kiss you, please.”

You bring your lips close to his but just as you’re about to kiss, you pull away slowly, and he tries to lean in to kiss you anyway but you don’t allow him to.

He whines.

But his eyes are so sweet and desperate that you can’t leave him like this. You take his chin with one hand and brush his lower lip with your thumb, “Stick your tongue out.” You ask him, and he does.

A shiver runs down his spine as you lick his tongue slowly, sensually. You feel him tense up beneath you and you don’t understand until you feel warm liquid being spilled inside you. You stop moving your tongue and your eyes open, but you only completely stop moving when you’re sure he’s finished.

You catch your breath and observe his flushed face and his chest rising and falling rapidly.

“You came just for that?” You ask with disbelief.

He groans, “It was hot, okay?”

You chuckle and slowly pull out.

When he regains his strength, he gets up, kneeling on the bed and making you lie down, “You still need to come.”

And what better way to finish the night than with his head between your legs?

[takes1]

omg if ur requests r still open… let me start off by saying i ate your tsukki series right up it scratched my needy loser itch SO WELL 😭😭 so much so im coming to you as a woman and begging you to do a needy oikawa scenario headcanon fic ANYTHING!!!! like i’d love a pathetic loser oikawa whos like perchance… crushing on one of the members of the girls team of seijoh…? 🫢

i’ll literally take anything u write atp that tsukki series was so fucking good that i literally put off studying for my finals to wait for ur updates instead 😭 i hope u know ur an excellent writer n wish u a very well day!!! 🤍🤍

god this request made my damn dayy!! ilysm. you're the best. i'm so glad you liked the tsukki series!! i've been waiting around for people start requesting! i love writing needy men, they're so dynamic

warnings. none. sfw, but hard-on mentioned so minors DNI info. hq fluff / yearning / needy!oikawa / loser!oikawa / volleyball team!reader / ace!reader / kind of popular!reader / oikawa getting hard talking to you / oikawa crushing / seijoh losing a match / iwa being a good friend / 1k words 🤍haikyuu collection. more of my hq here more links. my ao3 / masterlist / request box is open and empty, so give me some ideas pls!

"Come on, dumbass- the bus is here," Iwaizumi reached out to grab Oikawa's wrist to keep him from lingering any longer at the entrance to the gym floor.

"Give me two seconds," Oikawa spat. He swatted away his teammate's attempt to haul him from his vantage point.

Iwaizumi sucked his teeth and muttered something under his breath.

For once, Oikawa didn't pay it any mind. He had to see you spike. He had to watch you win.

The ball spun up, perfect and slow for your setter- his clammy hands clenched at the soaked number on his jersey. You leaped up for it. He froze that moment in time, your perfect form, perfect body, perfect force, all sculpted for this sport you both loved and dedicated yourselves to. It was a frame he could worship until the end of time.

You gave a brutal and strong slam, clean and cutthroat, that connected to the linoleum on the other side of the court.

"YEAAAAHHHHH!!"

The cries of the audience, your team, a double whistle, and the pounding of his own heart for you filled his ears. He couldn't hear the reinforcements Iwaizumi had sent to drag him away so they could leave.

It didn't matter now.

None of them were in the mood to entertain his sensitivities, since they hadn't had as much luck as you against Karasuno.

That being said, he wasn't the only one who was happy the girl's team had managed to make it. It made their group jogging back to catch the bus just a bit less out-of-sorts.

Though his plan was to speak to you first thing that next morning about the match, it never worked that way.

You were the epitome of untouchable, surrounded by many friends and always smiling at something they said to you- he couldn't stomach the possibility of you not smiling at him the same way.

But you were magnetic; as soon as he gave up on the line he prepared for you, he would watch your perfect smile light up the room and have a brand-new, better one.

Yet, a mere, "Hey," Was all he could manage on his best days when your teams switched for practice, between his own admirers never leaving him alone, and your always-occupied attention.

He wasn't enough to catch your eye.

That alone stumped him, because he never had a problem with this before you.

There was a noisy little songbird outside the window, right next to him on the other side of the glass, practically egging him on.

His gaze flitted from the bird over to your desk for the final, innumerable time that class. The heavy head in his hand tilted, studying the way you played with your hair, in hopes to replicate it.

God, if you were his, you would never have to worry about brushing it. He'd be at your beck and call, anything you needed, he would search Heaven and Earth for it.

He sighed through his nose, hand over his mouth.

There was a pain in his eyes.

You copied the last few pieces from the textbook to your notes and brushed away some eraser marks from your desk. A steady, cute, focus on your brow.

The bell rang for lunch.

A fluttering of wings and the bird he was watching was far away now, soaring through the partly cloudy sky. He turned back to you and his heart sank.

There were already guys at your desk congratulating you on your win.

You grinned and mentioned your team's hard work, casual and cool, and took your lunch out as they walked away.

He couldn't let himself be forgotten. With a bit too much enthusiasm he stood and his chair scraped the floor, loud.

Only a few people turned to look and you were thankfully not one of them.

No time to think-- just going for it, he belted out at the side of your desk,

"I saw you win the match."

What the fuck did he just say?

You glanced up at him. He didn't mean to say that, exactly. He should've just said congrats. His face filled with struggle.

"Oh!" You wiped your mouth, "Yeah, I saw you guys walking out, I wanted to talk to you!"

He stumbled over his words, unable to think clearly enough to take a second to breathe, "Y-eah, the bus- was there--."

"The girls watched you guys, too. I'm sorry about what happened."

His face was starting to get warm, and just his luck, two of his most common groupies were stalking you with dark looks at the door. He was fumbling so bad. Of course you watched him lose.

You looked down for a moment, "That was a tough match."

In doing so, you remembered that monster serve that made you jump out of your seat.

You giggled, "Oh man, but that serve of yours!!"

His chest puffed up, filled with a newfound pride that mended every lackluster attempt he ever had at getting your attention.

"That was so fucking cool!"

Heat crept up his neck, goosebumps all over his arms so bad he had to cross them. He was blushing ear to ear.

A choked sound preceded his uneven voice, "You saw that?"

"Y-eaaah, I mean," He was making it worse already, but you were grinning up at him. How could he not keep trying to impress you?

"-They're better way better at practice, ya know."

"Oh, yeah?" An unwanted, deep voice egged on from his side.

He jumped away from Iwaizumi, whom he made plans to meet with for lunch, now standing with his arms crossed and an unimpressed brow line.

You both shared an amicable wave before he slapped a broad hand on the back of Oikawa's neck to direct him away and let you eat in peace.

It was arguably in his best interest, but Oikawa scrambled out of his grip as soon as he was in the hallway, pissed that he was abducted just as it was getting good.

"The fuck?" He snapped, rubbing the hot spot just under his hairline.

Iwaizumi, not about to tolerate his attitude like he did yesterday, rolled his eyes and shoved his hands in his pockets. He started walking towards their usual spot with a smirk that his friend couldn't see.

He called over his shoulder, "You should really tuck that, dude."

The few students in the hallway watched his back, some in amusement, some in carnal curiosity, as he panicked for a moment, faced a corner -beet red and muttering-, and did just so.

my masterlist.

please send requests!

thanks again anon for the send, hope you like!! <3

[k2ntoss]

Omg omg omg

Pls do “shit— do that again” and “this is so wrong” with dickie grayson pretty please

(The second prompt gives enemies to lovers vibes SO MUCH, so if it’s included the better.)

— ❤️‍🩹 xx

SECOND ANON WITH AN EMOJI, LET'S FUCKING CELEBRATE!! first of all, thank you so much for this request, i have an idea buzzing into my head and if i don't post it i'll go insane (i'm already insane) and second... i'm listening to the weeknd so yeah....

“do that again- shit, just like that, right there.” + "this is wrong... so wrong." (plus enemies to lovers trope omg yes please!!!)

dick has never been known to be a bad detective, his partners adore him and so does every kid and person he helps, he does his job so well everyone is aware that whenever he's got a new case he will be at it all the time but there is just one person that doesn't really agrees with that, dick knows it and it gets on his nerves because it's always just his cases and investigations the ones that you observe and deny before they reach the court.

he really hated the moment he had to go present his case to the prosecutor, mostly when it was you who was assigned to it and what's worse it's that dick knows that you take it personal because there's no way on earth you let mobs or criminals to pay for justice and that is pretty much clear when you have an amazing percentage of cases won where criminals end up getting what they deserve.

"you have to be joking," at this point is almost a routine. dick arrives to your office with a folder filled with documents and reports from the officers and his own, a box full of evidence he picked up and sent to check to the labs, all the signed paperwork and the hope that you won't send him back to re-do all the work from zero "everything is in that folder!"

"detective, would you lower your damn voice?" you'd ask him, the snark on your tone is upsetting and dick has to take a deep breath to cool down a bit "there are several forms you haven't filled, how do you expect me to work like this?" and it was true, paperwork was important even if everyone hated doing it.

"you can't return the whole investigation for a couple of stupid papers! it's a big case, if you return it to the station we'll have to let the criminals go because the time runs up." dick is starting to lose every trace of patience and good will he has, hands gripping the fabric of his trousers and his hands clench a little more when you look at him, unamused and with any intention to help him.

"i can't help you if you don't bring everything in order, not to say that there are so many things that don't make sense on your files," you say, reading through some pages "this doesn't looks like a real detective's work, how do you expect me to do anything with this?" you leave the folder down, looking at him with your arms crossed over your chest and leaning back on the chair behind your desk.

dick is about to scream, you're telling him his work sucks and sending him back to do it all over again when he is sure there are cases pilling up back in the station but he has to hold it back. it's weird that the person he despises the most isn't some villain he fights at night but a prosecutor that he desperately wants to shut up for once and for all.

you are way too cocky for your own good and since the first case you dismised from his hands he has wanted to show you why he had the reputation he had, he's fighting his rage right now because he knew that in this case you were right and it would be stupid to keep pushing but he was too stubborn and a little too lost on how much he liked to get in your nerves.

"there's no way you can't help me with that case," he says and dick's voice is now an indicator of how upset he is feeling, not only because of you dismissing his work but also because this time he wasn't right (not that he has been before, he always forgot a paper or the whole background of a piece of evidence because he was too distracted on thinking how jolly the moment would be when you'd had to accept his work) "you just don't want to do it and that's bullshit, you should be dismissed from all the station's cases because this is personal."

"detective grayson," you warn him, if it was on your hands you'd help him just as you always tried to help but as a prosecutor you had to stick to the rules and make sure your coworkers did just the same "i'd suggest you to lower your tone and keep your emotions in check, the fact that i can't work with this investigation it's not my fault." you said, letting the folder fall back on your desk before standing up.

there went the last string of patience and good will dick had, he stood up but stayed still until you started walking your way to the door and he'd be lying if your figure wasn't distracting him a little bit with the way that greenish button up shirt hung a little loose on your shoulders but gave a hint of your figure. he had to shake his thoughts away and as soon as he saw your hand reaching for the door he darted towards you, pushing the door closed shut again and standing a little too close to you.

dick is hovering over you, looking down as his eyes fix on yours and there's no way to hide the surprise of the sudden outburst that causes you to flinch a little.

"you think so high of yourself, y/n," dick hisses as his eyes narrow, he leans in closer and it sends a spark that danced between anger and pure expectation from what he could do "you think that you make the fucking calls and that is just so upsetting, i wish i could just bring you down from that cloud and show you just what you are." he points at you and it's distracting because dick grayson has always managed to keep his anger in check.

"keep your emotions in check, detective" it was another warning, it came throught gritted teeth and narrowed eyes as you stand still ready to snap back at him on the first chance "am i the one that thinks too high of themself? let me break it to you, grayson, at least i'm trying to do my job as i have to."

the banter between you two has always been a little more snarky and less heated, not to be taken so serious because what you wanted to do was to push dick to do his absolute best so you could also help people to be safe out on the streets, living their lives but this time was just different because there was something else fueling the words.

there's a spark that ignites inside of dick as soon as your words hit close to home and next thing you know is that you're being cornered against the door of your office and he managed to inmobilize you; he grabs your shoulder to turn you around, his right leg between yours and his face right next to yours.

"you think you're better than the rest of us just because you get to take the credit of putting the bastards we catch behind bars but you just have to sit pretty here," he speaks lowly into your ear, his tone making it clear that he was letting it all out, months of bottled up frustration flowing out of him "you do nothing but talk, that's all that mouth of yours can do and it was just time someone put you in your place."

"richard grayson, you better back the fuck up now or–" you start, the warning hanging in the air and interrupted by a low grunt that just escaped your lips when he pressed a bit more against you just to mess with your nerves, causing his thigh to press a bit more between your legs and sending a jolt through your spine that mixed with all the emotions "do that again– shit," and even tho he is surprised and a little taken aback by your reaction he complies, moving closer until he could feel his leg pressed up against your clothed core and he decided to grind it teasingly "just like that, right there..."

"that's all it takes to turn off your brain?" he asks mockingly, his hand pressed between your shoulders as his lips brush against your era and it's easy to hear the smirk on dick's voice "pin you against the door and let you grind yourself against my thigh? it's pathetic how a smartmouth like you turns to a puddle when someone touches your cunt like this."

yeah, it's pathetic because he managed to shut you up without even trying and he's proud of it. his hand trails down your back until it reaches the lower part of it making sure to hold your body in a way you couldn't move your hips to grind on his thigh.

"go on, why don't you move?" he asks teasingly, his hand pressing harder when he felt the jerk of your hips and an amused laugh escapes his throat when you grunt frustrated "who would have thought that miss great prosecutor was such a desperate little slut." and he could have stopped there, make you help him because you'd be too embarrased to deny him anything after putting this show for him but dick decided to lean in and press a lingering kiss on your neck that made your breath catch on your throat.

"dick– fuck, don't be such an ass" you say in a hoarse tone, looking at the ceiling as you try to rock your hips once again, feeling yourself able to do so when dick's hand wanders from your back to your stomach and then up, resting between your breasts as he breathes you in.

"pretty fucked up, isn't it?" he asks against your neck, nibbling on the side of your neck as his fingers start undoing the buttons of your shirt while you grind against his thigh and everything feels so forbidden, one of your hands moving to lock the door because there was no way you'd let yourself get caught being groped by the detective you've told all your department you hated.

it wasn't news for your coworkers that dick and you had a long history of not getting alone but truth be told, you just wanted to make dick give his best because that would also allow you to give your best. it was a win-win, if only he saw it that way because you weren't trying to buy more time for the criminals to make up evidence or build new alibis or get fake witnesses.

dick gets your shirt open, his hands messily working on pulling your bra down and growling lowly when he saw your breasts spilling out against the door, his eyes moving from your chest to the way your features contorted from the way you were getting yourself off like this. with every jerk of your hips he could feel your ass pressed against his cock, the bulge inside his dressing pants now hard in a way you could feel it againt your body.

he lets go of you, turning you around and ignoring your grunt when you were left without that pleasurable feeling on your aching pussy. his hands gripping your hips as he presses a hungry kiss on your lips, demanding and bruising between the smirk it draws from him when you kiss him back with the same need as your hands undo his shirt, pulling it away from his body as he manages to walk until he is sitting on your desk with you sitting on his lap.

the messy making out is only interrupted when the clothes come out of your body, heavy breathing as he squeezes and gropes your flesh into his hands in a rush of pure lust that's fueled by the way your wetness feels when pressed against his hard on as he moves you to tease your pussy, his shaft moving between your folds and the wet sounds are only muffled by the low moans and growls you both try to keep as low as you can.

"this is wrong..." you say breathlessly, feeling how dick picks your body up with his arm around your waist as his free hand lines his tip with your entrance and he grunts into your neck when you are the one that slides down on him with your eyes closed shut "so wrong, god."

it's not much when your body moves on its own, going up and down on his cock as he looks up at you, hands gripping your waist to hold you as his lips are around one of your nipples, sucking and licking at it while your nails sink into the skin of his shoulders.

you'd never set yourself into this kind of situations but there was no time to think about how wrong this was when it felt so good, the way he filled you up as you rode him slowly, teasing him to grip your hips in order to set the pace to make you bounce on him.

"you look so good like that, fuck," he whispers against your chin when you start grinding on him, his hands on your hips so hard that his fingers bruise your skin as he thrusts deeper into your pussy "so desperate fucking yourself like a bitch in heat, you think you're using my cock for your pleasure but you're nothing but a pretty toy."

his words work as a turn on, the way he looks at you with hunger and need as he pounds harshly inside your cunt makes you moan without care on who could hear you.

"you look so pretty like that, so tight around me" he grunts into your ear and it's right there when he takes the lead, setting a fast pace as he holds your hips to make your body bounce "you like it like this? when you're being used like a dirty whore, sweetheart?"

"i like it so much, fuck–" you whine and the sound of your voice makes him chuckle, this was pretty bad because the degrading words were making you needier and the way you couldn't hide it made you appear more like a slut for him, clenching around him the closer you got to your climax as he hit all the right spots with each thrust he gave.

it was hard to talk for you, between moans and whines of pure delight that came after each stroke dick made as he kissed your jaw but he had no problem on doing it while his hand moved and reached that space on your pussy.

his thumb pressed against your clit made you shiver into his arms, whinning pathetically as he played with your sensitivity with a wide grin "look at the little mess you are, always so collected and now you're here with your legs all spread for me to fuck you into a brainless slut."

"dick– i'm close" you say, eyes teary and voice broken as your face finds a place into the crook of his neck but it's not too much time until he finds your gaze, leaning in to press a reassuring kiss into your lips before he pulls back and nods, thrusting in a faster pace and with deeper strokes.

"c'mon, cum for me, sweetheart." he growls against your ear, both hands holding your waist as your movements become sloppier and erratic, the tension on your belly building more and more until your orgasm hits your whole body making your walls clench tighter around him "that's it, that's a fucking good girl... i'll pull out now, yeah?"

and he doesn't wait for your response, knowing you won't be able to think straight while you were still on your high and with you still straddling his lap dick moves, strocking his cock until he is throbbing into his fist before he reaches his own climax, painting your stomach with those milky white streaks.

maybe, just maybe now he could find a way to fix his work without feeling so upset about it.

[blueishspace]

Looped Sun 6

Loop #205

Grian: Scar! How have you done this?

Scar: C'mon Grian, I learnt you can make more potions then normal and I wasn't supposed to try one?

Grian : Not on me Scar! I look ridiculus!

Scar: Nooo! You look cool!

Grian: I'm a kid! I look 8 at most!

Scar: Hmmm... I have an idea!

Grian: I won't like, it will I?

Scar: This is Grain, Grian's son! Taking care of him while G is away!

Grian: I hate you...

Stress: Aww that's so nice of you, I didn't know Grian had a kid though.

Scar: Oh I didn't either! Grian said that he wanted to wait a bit to introduce him!

Grian: I will get revenge.

Stress: Oh! I see, well that make sense. He is quite the grumpy one isn't he?

Scar: Oh yeah! Definitely!

Stress: Oh, sorry but I better go now. Got lunch with Iskall!

Scar: Oh It's no problem! By Stress!

...

Grian: You will regret this, do you know how many awws I have gotten already?

Loop #206

Grian: Revenge. Sweet Revenge!

Scar: Hey, that's not fair! I turned you 8, I look 3!

Grian: Sucks doesn't it? Well now we'll see who gets the last laugh.

Stress: Oh Grian, who is that little cutie? Yours?

Grian: He's Scar's.

Stress: Oh! I didn't know you were a thing!

Grian: What, wait that isn't-

Stress: Isn't it a bit early for a kid though?

Grian: No, you misunderstand-

Stress: Oh damn I need to go! Sorry G, see you later.

Grian: I...

Scar: ... Well that didn't go like you wanted to did it?

Grian: ... I...did she really?.... What the hell just happened?

Loop #209

Pearl was truly enjoying this Empires loop, no demons, no rifts, just regular fun with her friends.

Scott: Hey Pearl, do you think you could help me nake the next looper proof escape room?

And suddenly her loop became a lot of a hell better.

Loop #212

Waking up in an outer plane wasn't part of Grian's plans for this loop but he could deal with it... probably. Checking his surrounded he realized even without checking his loops memories that he was in Limbo... Aka the chaotic neutral dimension aka pure chaos central. This was fine, Grian could live in chaos, he was used to it... Didn't make getting randomly hit by a piece of cheese going at supersonic speed any better.

Scar woke up in a wonderful place, with fresh water and sweet fruit and big big trees, he knew that he would build trees like these as soon as he could because they were oh do gorgeus. Scar didn't ever want to leave such a beautiful and colorful place, ever... The following loop Scar was informed by Grian that that was Arborea, plane of chaotic good and especially known for being extremely addictive.

Pearl hated this actually. To be fair Pandemonium wasn't too bad for a plane if you didn't count the chill...and howling wind...and smell of rot...and demon infestation... Ok it was pretty bad actually but it would have been fine if it wasn't for the alignement. Chaotic neutral she could get but chaotic evil? For real? She knew she could get unhinged as Scarlet Pearl but chaotic evil??? Really world tree? Really?

Scott didn't know what to think, on one of hand Mechanus as the lawful neutral plane wasn't as dangerous as some of the others darker ones... on the other hand this place was just so dull and gray and lifeless he considered jumping in the void. He had tried to convince the people here that a lot of every colour would be as balanced as there not being any but did they listen? No, they didn't. He knew he could get to Baator from there and while he didn't really see himself as lawful evil he was really tempted to do it if it meant feeling something.

Loop #215

Grian: Red King?

Ren: You have finally arrived, what is the meaning of this meeting?

Grian: I have a challenge.

Ren: A challenge? You dare?

Grian: I do. I challenge you to a duel, one on one.

Ren: For what?

Grian: I challenge you for the red crown.

The court all gasped in shock.

Ren: I see... and what if you lose.

Grian: My 3 lives, be it death or servitude, they will be yours.

Ren: ... All 3 you say? I agree.

Grian: Of course.

Ren didn't know how many loops Grian had praticed sword combat for this exact moment and well, he didn't have to know.

Loop #218

It took a lot of effort on all their parts and 3 fails but finally Scott and Grian had managed the most difficult and stressful challenge yet...

Jimmy: I won? I won!

Jimmy had won one of the life games, Scott was tearing up just thinking about it.

Loop #220

CGem!Pearl: Another pearl? A looper?

Pearl: Oh yes, It's nice to meet you, my name is Pearl...hence being a pearl.

CGem!Pearl: Oh! Oh my! Well, this is unexpected!

Steven: Oh that's going to be confusing. You can be uhhh... Red!

Pearl: Hmmm, what about Scarlet?

Steven: Uhhh, Scarlet? That's a type of red right? I like it.

Pearl: Oh, hello there mate.

Amethyst: Heeey... say, you wanna ditch this place and go smash some stuff?

Pearl: Of course I would love that.

Amethyst: Woo, wonder what weapon you have.

Pearl: It's a scythe.

Amethyst: Sick.

Garnet: Hmpfff.

CGem!Pearl: We should form Sardonyx, don't you agree Garne-

Fire Opal: Oh there's no need!

CGem!Pearl: Wait Amethyst did you-

Steven: Giant woman! Wait? Scarlet?

Fire Opal: Oh I'm ready to smash some bits!

Steven: Wooo!

Fire Opal then proceeded to destroy a ship with her kusarigama.

Steven: So... why Scarlet? If you don't mind me asking.

Pearl: Oh It's a reference to that time I went insane in a game because my friends left me.

Steven: ...

Pearl: Sorry, that's a bit weird.

Steven: Oh no! It's not! ... I turned into a giant pink lizard dino thing once I'm not judging.

Loop #225

Scott: Grian, are you crying?

Grian: N-No.

Scott: You are... what happened.

Grian: Just... You know Grumbot?

Scott: The robot you and Mumbo made?

Grian: That's the thing, most of the time he is just a robot...but sometimes he isn't! Sometimes he's my actual child and has real feelings and... The emperors still destroy him and I can't do anything about it.

Scott: G-

Grian: And sometimes I can tell that he has a soul and I can feel as he dies while everyone else laughs at it... And then.

Scott: ...go on.

Grian: Sometimes it happens before the loop and I look to my loop memories and realize the me that was there before also didn't care... I got abandoned by my parents in Japan and that is the same in most loops, the last thing I ever wanted was to become like them!

Scott: Come here Grian, let it out.

Loop #227

Scar had almost finished building the new and improved Scarland. He was so excited to show Grian when a cyan and orange portal appeared. That had to be Scott coming straight from New Life!

Scott: Scar! Just the man I was searching for!

Scar: Me?

Scott: So, you are having problems learning about loop because of your dyslexia?

Scar: ... Yeah?

Scott: I was talking to some older loopers last loops and they showed me this library with book copies written in a way to help with dyslexia so I grabbed a few.

Scar: Wait you got me books?

Scott: Yeah. Decided to start small to see if they would work out. If you need more I can show you the next time we loop there.

Scar: I- wow ... Do you want a free tour of Scarland as a thank you?

Scott: Eh, Sure. Why not?

Loop #229

Scott had been waiting for a supervillain variant for a while actually, ever since Grian and Scar had took over the world that time a while back. But still, out of all possible power he didn't get neither ice, fire, magic or colour related. He got electricity manipulation which was pretty op but he couldn't understand.

Scott: I don't get it, why electricity?

Pearl: Didn't you get smitten by lightning back in Last Life?

Scott: Fuck, is this going to become a thing now. At least I don't explode.

Loop #230

Scott: ...

Pearl: Pf...pftt.

Scott: Don't laugh.

Pearl: What did you say last time? At least I don't explode?

Scott: ...

Scott the creeper wasn't amused in the slightliest.

Loop #233

Scott: So, let's see who is who. I'm Mind.

Grian: Heart, mostly because of the eye connection.

Scott: And the purple.

Grian: And the purple, I know... Pearl?

Pearl: Soul! Because of the red probably. I get to have a scythe instead of a trident so that's fine.

Scott: Huh... Then, what about The Whole? Is Scar taking his place?

Pearl: Let me check... hmm, yep.

Scott: One time you tried to sing about...I don't know but it was nothing fucking new-

Pearl: Wrong song!

Scott: What?

Pearl: Storm and a spring is later, we need to do Mucka Blucka right now.

Grian: ~I've been sleeping in a cardboard box spending every dollar on a losing lot-

Pearl: That's The Bidding... You know what fuck this, if you are going to do what you want then I'm skipping to me splitting the ground.

Grian: Wait no no, we are way to early to do the Mind electric... Scar Isn't going to be able to handle it right now.

Scott: And if he does he won't be very happy with us.

Pearl: Alright, let's try again then.

Loop #237

The loop had started normal, Grian should have known it wouldn't last forever but waking up to find all the ground in the world to be replaced by ice.

Grian: How?

Pearl: I am still a goddess of chaos and this specific loop's code is extremely simple to manipulate.

Grian: ... But why?

Pearl: Why not?

Loop #238

Pearl: How dare you?

Grian: What? I didn't do anything.

Pearl: Why did you rotate my base back, do you know how much it took to rotate the first time around?

Grian: Guess you'll have to turn it again!

Loop #239

Grian: You are evil.

Pearl: Oh c'mon, just giving you some encouragement to make a better storage system.

Grian: B-but... why furbies? Why?

Pearl: Horrific little things aren't they? Was talking with Tango about giving them spider legs.

Grian: Why are you like this?

Loop #240

Pearl: You did what?

Grian: Moved your storage ststem...to the moon.

Pearl: You mean the moon that is currently crashing into the world?

Grian: ... Maybe?

Pearl: I see how it is, did you know Tango actually made me some spider furbies before the end of the loop?

Grian: Wait... no.

Pearl: Be prepared. They are coming. You can run but you can't hide.

Loop #245

Scott: You know, if you take like three or four loops in which you learn redstone you would probably be able to surpass Mumbo.

Grian: I would wouldn't I? .... Hmmm...

Loop #250

Mumbo: H-how- Mate? How have you done this?

Grian: It's really quite simple really.

Mumbo: That's- That's my line.

Grian: Mine now.

Loop #251

It was the start of a brand new loop, this one started quite late already in season 10. Grian was sleeping soundly when he was woken up by a frantic sounding Mumbo.

Mumbo: Grian, I had an horrible nightmare.

Grian: Uh huh?

Mumbo: You built a super compact spaceship and I couldn't understand and you used my "It's quite simple" line against me! It was horrible!

Grian: ... Wait.

Loop #252

Mumbo: I-it wasn't a prank?

Grian: Nope.

Scar: Mumbo!!?! You are looping!?

Pearl: Welcome to the loops mate?

Scott: Good luck, you'll need it.

Prev Next First

[ticklygiggles]

Option B, option C | Kageyama Tobio & Hinata Shouyou

A/N: another commission finished for always amazing and angelic Max (@wertzunge)! Thank you as always, Max ❤️ I hope you enjoy this and I hope they're not too ooc skdkkdf

Summary: Kageyama can't toss?! It's all that test's fault!

Words: 1k+

“Ka. Ge. Ya. Ma! What the hell is wrong with you?!” 

Kageyama tried to ignore the heat gathering on his cheeks. That was what he'd like to know! Why was he so distracted? Could it be because of that exam he had earlier? No, that can't be- he thought he did very well, but maybe he should have chosen option b, right? Yes. Yes, dammit, he should've chosen option b! It made more sense than c! He was going to fail that test, he definitely was going to- 

“Ba. Ka. Ge. Ya. Maaaaaa!” Kageyama hissed when he felt a harsh slap on his back. He quickly grabbed the culprit’s skull and squeezed it. “Ouch! Ouch! Aaaaaah! Let go! It's not my fault you're sucking today- Aaaaaah!” 

Kageyama felt the blush spreading to his ears. Stupid Hinata was so annoying… but he was not wrong. Kageyama’s tosses had been bad– no, bad was an understatement, they have been hideous. Hinata hasn't been able to hit the ball not even once. Too low, too high. Too short, too long. Simply not right!

“It's your damn fault! You should be there wherever I toss! Why can't you do that?!” 

“HUH?! Are you blaming me?! How's this my fault?! You are the one-”

“Let's take a break, everyone!” Daichi called. “This is going to take a while.” 

The rest of the team moved to the sides of the court, some happy to rest after the heavy training, some others mocking the duo starting their usual bickering, but regardless of that, Kageyama and Hinata no longer had ears for anyone else. They started yelling at each other (perhaps too loudly for Daichi's liking), blaming each other for the situation, even when Kageyama knew perfectly well that the only one to blame was himself, but admitting his mistakes had always been difficult, especially when Hinata was the one who noticed Kageyama was not doing right. 

Their little shouting fight soon escalated into a physical fight, not actually punches, Kageyama knew well enough that Daichi wouldn't let him get in the gym for who knows how many weeks if he dared to hit Hinata. So they would just pull each other's shirts and try to take each other down in some kind of wrestling. 

“Kageyama! You're gonna get us in trouble! You can't even toss the ball properly and now you're trying to kill me!” 

“Hinata-boke!” Kageyama gasped, gripping Hinata's shoulders. “You. Only. Have. To. Hit- why are you laughing?!” 

With every word, Kageyama poked Hinata's chest and after two pokes on his collarbone, Hinata started to giggle, trying to grab Kageyama’s hand. 

“Thahat tihickles!” 

“What?!”

Kageyama blinked in disbelief. Look at him, giggling like a kid with no worries in the world, huh? How pathetic and- wait. A malicious grin suddenly spread across his face and Hinata jumped. He certainly couldn't hit Hinata, but tickling him? Well… 

“Ba-B-Bakageyama, nohoho! Nohohot tihihickling!” 

Kageyama was able to finally pin Hinata down against the squeaky wooden floor, his fingers digging into Hinata's sides, making him whine in pain, but Kageyama quickly lightened his touch and the bright giggles echoed through the whole gym. Hinata kicked and tried to crawl away, but Kageyama had set himself on top of him and was tickling him on every spot he could reach. 

He poked at his ribs and squeezed at his sides and when he noticed that Hinata's giggling turned more frantic whenever Kageyama touched his tummy, he made sure to claw at the muscles and even dip his finger into his belly button.

He really had no experience tickling people, but he had an older sister who could sometimes be a handful, so he definitely knew a trick or two. 

“Lehehet gohoho!” Hinata giggled, wrapping his arms around himself. “Thihihis is nohot fahahair!” 

“Maybe this'll teach you not to say anything to m- ack!” One of his arms retracted, gluing to his side when he felt a squeeze to his waist. “Don't you- aaah!” Another squeeze to the other side of his waist made him curl forward a little and Hinata took the chance to change their positions.

Kageyama panicked and he tried to free himself from under Hinata, after all, he was taller, but when he felt fingers clawing on his stomach, he was a goner. He had always been very sensitive there and he hated that it was a spot so easy to get. He tried to hold his laughter in, but Hinata's fingers were light and so ticklish, he only lasted about two seconds before he started cackling. 

“S-Stohohop, Hinahahata! I'll kihill you!” 

“What? I thought you wanted to get tickled too, Kageyama-kun~ ack! N-No! Nohoho!” 

Both Kageyama’s hands latched to Hinata's sides and he started tickling him back, his hands trembling, begging for him to stop the tickling at his tummy, but he refused and soon they were engaged in an intense tickle fight, rolling around, getting the upper hand only for a few seconds before being thrown off again. 

“Ah, seriously, will they ever stop?” 

“Calm down, Daichi,” Suga said softly, patting Daichi on the shoulder. “They've been at it for like ten minutes, we still have some more time left.”

“They're childish, we're waiting time here,” Tsukishima rolled his eyes.

Yamaguchi chucked, “although they're screaming at each other, they seem to be having fun.”

“YES IT LOOKS FUN I WANT TO JOIN!” 

“N-Noya, calm down.”

“I WANT TO JOIN TOO!” 

“Tanaka, Nishinoya. Don't you even think about it,” Ennoshita warned and both boys slumped back in place, whining. 

No matter how loudly they spoke, Kageyama and Hinata were in their own world. Kageyama's laughter had been echoing in everyone's ears for a long time, Hinata had Kageyama's hands under his knees and the poor setter was bursting into loud laughter while his poor armpits hot tickled out of his mind. 

“Hi-n-naha- waha-AHAHA!” He tried to speak, but his laughter just wouldn't let him. His body had grown weak and he couldn't pull his hands free, but Hinata's were nestling nicely under Kageyama’s arms, fingers wiggling and digging into the muscle. 

“Do you surrender, Kageyama?!” 

“He will surrender,” Yamaguchi said. 

Tanaka, “nah, he'll turn the tables on Hinata.”

“His face is too pink,” Suga said, a tad worried. “Should we help?” 

Tsukishima, “helping will only be more troublesome.”

“Daichi-san is about to lose it,” Nishinoya laughed. 

Yamaguchi, “he will surrender.” 

“Isn't it super weird that Kageyama's so ticklish?” Asahi asked and all nodded in agreement. 

Kageyama really was ticklish and his armpits were, probably, his most sensitive spot. Hinata had been tickling him there for a while now, he really couldn't stand it anymore. The more the tickling continued, the more his laughter got louder and panicked, would the tickling ever stop?

“FIHIHINE!” 

“I told you!” 

“Aish, good thing we didn't bet on it.” 

“OH! Are you giving up?! Are you giving up?! Pr-Promise you won't get me back when I stop!” Hinata pushed and Kageyama threw his head, nodding as he laughed hysterically. “O-Okay!”

He stopped and Kageyama went limp, breathing heavily and pressing his arms against his side, wanting to protect himself from a surprise attack, but Hinata didn't tickle him again, he got up and sat beside him, also breathing heavily as if he was the one almost dying. 

Kageyama hated to admit it, but that residual sensation of tiredness felt kinda good. He was exhausted, but revitalized and energized at the same time. His brain was buzzing and his head was pulsating, but he wasn't thinking about anything. His mind was empty of thoughts causing him stress and anxiety and he felt good, relaxed.

Suga, “d-do you think he's alright?” 

“I wonder,” Daichi said, starting to get worried. “He hasn't moved much, huh?”

Nishinoya, “oi, Shouyou! Did you kill Kageyama?”

“Haah? I didn't! He's breathing… I think?” When Kageyama opened his eyes, he found Hinata's face, looking at him from above. “Are you okay, Kageyama?” 

Kageyama rolled his eyes, “I'm fine. Just tired, stupid!” 

“Hey, Bakageyama,” Hinata said, extending his hand for Kageyama to take. “It's okay, you know? I'm sure you'll do well on that exam.” 

Kageyama halted, gripping Hinata's hand. “W-What? How- How do you know?!” 

“You kept mumbling to yourself all the way to the gym about option b this and option c that,” Hinata explained, matter of factly. “It’s obviously option c! That test was super easy, so just relax and play well! This training is so boring because you're not tossing properly!” 

“You-! Haah,” Kageyama sighed. 

Noya, “the heck are they talking about, Ryuu?” 

“Hmm, probably about fighting again? Oh, Kageyama is getting up now.” 

“Let's train,” Kageyama said, nodding at Hinata. “I'll toss properly this time.” 

“Whooooaaaa!” 

“Okay, seems like the break is over, finally. Let's go, everyone.” 

“OSU!” 

Kageyama wasn't so sure what just had happened, it really had been a strange training, but he was glad he could shake off that feeling of anxiety over his test- he really owned Hinata this time, huh? Well, some high tosses for him would be enough!

[withgreatpowercomesmyfuckingdick]

Hi! Imma do something rare and actually make content, but its 11 at night and i just had a brain worm

for those of you that don’t know, i work at an accounting office. we do taxes. it is tax season. and now im thinking abt how AGSZC does taxes and what their papers are like and im inflicting it on the rest of you even if its gibberish

Angeal: A godsend. Keeps his forms in order and filed properly, calculates everything else himself like a good man. Papers honestly aren’t too bad, maybe 10-12 just because of his career/insurance plus his doubtless donations to charity, but aside from that. straightforward and done at his kitchen table

Genesis: A fucking NIGHTMARE. no doubt pays someone else to do it. and for fucks sake, i know he invests. constantly and consistently and probably in anything he thinks stands the slightest chance against shinra on the market. his 1099-B is a mess and definitely Not Totaled, so his is the bullshit you have to insert one. investment. at. a time. He’s the type that keeps fucking calling too, I can just tell. but, aside from the 1099-B, he’s probably got simple stuff as well. probably several 1099-INTs from several different bank accounts, maybe a couple 1098s floating around from vacation houses or some shit.

Sephiroth: Does his own. In ridiculously early. Makes almost no personal purchases so hardly has anything to pay. I can’t imagine not having a last name or not knowing his birthday doesn’t end up a legal problem somehow, so he likely has to walk directly into a damn tax office to say hey this is me and this is my shit no, someone isn’t stealing my identity. has one singular document and it’s his W-2. Which is. Fucking astronomical. Like, the number doesn’t even look right. His paycheck as a SOLDIER isn’t taxed, so he doesn’t really get much back on his refund. The only first without a healthcare /insurance form because why tf would Sephiroth have healthcare? What’s he gonna do, get sick?

not getting into how doing his own taxes was definitely a fight between him and Hojo at some point and ended up getting hashed out in a board room. Hojo didn’t like him having the autonomy of filing for himself instead of being claimed ad Hojo’s ‘dependent’. Sephiroth deadass threatened to go to court abt it. The President told Hojo to suck it up so they didn’t have to deal with scandal, Hojo wouldn’t tell Seph his birthday to be difficult, and here we are

Zack: Panicking. Late. Doesn’t know if his forms came in the mail, doesn’t know where he put them most of the time. Scrambles around for a fuck ton of receipts, ultimately has to request Shinra send him his shit again. DEFINITELY pays someone else to do it. W-2, 1095-A, 1099-C(s)(he has several debts i can feel it i love him but he screams bad financial decisions), probably some shit for his bike too. He customs it so I can see him listing some parts he buys for it as work expenses. Jokingly puts some money he gave aerith for flowers and what he spent to make her wagon as donations to charity and it actually goes through because the church is still considered a legal entity. Definitely has to pay late fees.

Cloud: Pays Tifa to do it. Filing for both of them is a nightmare cause all their shit burnt in Nibelheim, so once Edge gets right with the WRO they have to do all their paperwork from scratch and get reassigned SSNs. He genuinely has a fuckton of paperwork from doing the Strife Delivery Service. Luckily, only ‘employee’ he has is Tifa, and even then she doesn’t do things regularly aside from pick up the phone. Doesn’t make his business an LLC until he’s literally forced to due to his number of clients and someone trying to sue him for damages. 1099-NEC for TIfa for sure, then once he’s an LLC, some yearly maintenance to keep legal. Mileage and gas expenses go CRAZY on his self employment form, I fucking bet. I bet Cloud’s handwriting is shit tho. Tifa’s at her desk counting up his gains and losses for fucking ages because his fives look too similar to sixes. Eventually she wrangles him into installing some shit on his phone that counts it up, if only to cure her headache. Funnily enough, he does get veteran benefits from what’s left of Shinra’s shit, reparations of sorts, but he doesn’t keep it. All goes to charity, so that ends up in the books too.

alright, that was unnecessarily in depth and way longer than i planned. good night LMAO

[laracrofted]

down comes the night

synopsis: on a cold midnight in the dead of winter, gotham city's district attorney is murdered.

pairing: batman!bob floyd x fem!reader (lucky)

warnings: 18+ minors and ageless accounts dni, character death (obviously), mentions of death and mob violence, language (wc: 1K)

note: while i'm not planning to write a full series for batman bob – more like connected one shots and blurbs, because i can only focus on one series – i knew i absolutely had to write this scene, which has been in my head all week.

Tears are frozen in your lashes.

You saw him on Saturday. He was alive on Saturday. You saw him.

He wrapped an arm around your shoulders, mussed your hair like an annoying older brother and smacked a drunken and damp kiss on your cheek. He was alive.

"Did you hear me?" Bradley asks you – no, Commissioner Bradshaw asks you. His coat hangs around your shoulders, overly large on your frame, smelling like leather and coffee and cigar smoke. He doesn't smoke, or maybe Bradley just doesn't smoke around you.

He has always been so delicate around you. You still remember when another officer in the Major Crimes Division made some crass comment in front of you, and Bradley barked out a harsh, "Watch your mouth. You're in the presence of a lady," and silenced the room.

Or at least, until Jake smirked and not even bothering to look up from his paperwork, drawled, "Oh really? Where? I don't see any ladies around here. I only see Lucky."

You shot him a withering look, and Jake grinned, green eyes glittering in the dim yellow light of the office.

Bradley says your name again, breaking you from the warmth of the memory, plunging you back into the cold of the night, like a frozen surface of a lake, cracking under your weight.

You're so cold. Swallowing is almost painful.

You look at him, cheeks cold, eyes dim and lifeless. "How?"

A croak, barely audible, but Bradley pales. He opens his mouth, but Bradley's voice isn't the one that answers your question.

"A single shot to the back of the head."

His voice is low and hoarse and if the circumstances were different, kind of attractive. He sounds like cigar smoke and aged whiskey, deep and solid.

You've only seen him a few times.

You'd come looking for Jake up here once and found him up here – up here with him. He spotted you before Jake did and sidled back into the shadows, ready to disappear, and Jake looked over his shoulder.

"That's just Lucky. She's good," Jake reassured him. He beckoned you forward with a waved palm. You quietly handed him a styrofoam cup of coffee and watched the shadows. He watched you back, silent and watchful.

You've never heard his voice before.

Under different circumstances.

You don't have the luxury of different circumstances. You only have these.

"Execution style?"

He says nothing, which might as well be a confirmation.

"A mob hit?"

You can only see the bottom half of his face in his mask. His mouth looks vaguely impressed, pitched to the side.

You recall, "He slipped a USB into my clutch on Saturday. He must've done it when I wasn't paying attention or something."

You remember Jake's arm around your shoulders, his lips warm on your cheek, on your hairline.

"He left me a video. He said..."

Trust Bradshaw and Batman. No one else. Everyone else is on a payroll, kid. You suck in a breath and do your best not to cry again. Moisture stings your eyes. Damn.

"He knew, didn't he? He was making plans. He must've known."

You know what Jake would say now.

Everyone wants to kill a District Attorney in Gotham, Lucky. We might as well make, 'Mob bosses want me dead,' the new re-election slogan.

You can almost hear his voice, can almost see his grin.

Bradley nods. "Someone always wants to kill a good D.A., but yeah, Jake knew. He always knew."

You scoff.

Of course, Jake knew.

Jake knew and didn't run. Didn't enter protective custody. Didn't do anything but show up in the court room and smile in the faces of the men who wanted him dead. Damn him and his reckless righteousness. Damn him.

"Hey, Lucky..." Bradley looks sideways into the shadows. "You should probably call in sick for the rest of the week." You look at him sharply, and Bradley holds up his hands in a placating gesture. "You could be in danger. These are dangerous people. We don't know who exactly Jake pissed off."

You could almost laugh. Who didn't Jake piss off?

"He'd want you to be safe, is all," Bradley finishes, stuffing his hands in his pockets, shoulders hunched. Moonlight glints off of the silver badge at his hip.

You look at him dully. "Jake didn't run. Why should I?"

"And now Jake's dead," Bradley says softly.

And now Jake is dead.

He won't ruffle your hair or grab you coffee in the mornings. He's dead. He's dead.

You abruptly shake your head, almost robotically. Cross your arms.

"I'm an Assistant District Attorney. I can help."

"No," Bradley responds immediately. "For all we know, someone in the DA's office is crooked. You start poking around all of the sudden and..."

He doesn't need to finish that sentence. You could end up like Jake.

You bite down on your lip and cast your gaze into the shadows. "You. What'd Jake say I'd do?"

Batman looks at you, serious and searching, for a long moment, which feels even longer under his gaze. "You'd help. He said, if something were to happen to him, you'd help."

You hold his gaze. "Then I'll help."

And out of the corner of your eye, Bradley sighs.

Bradley leaves before you. He gets a call and heads downstairs – but not before offering to have one of his men drive you home whenever you're ready, which makes you smile weakly.

You expect him to leave soon after. You're surprised when Batman lingers.

You ignore him, mostly, watching the glittering snow dance and glimmer and fall in the wind, pinpricks of reflected light in the darkness, almost like stars.

"He..."

And Batman hesitates.

And damn, isn't that something? Isn't it something to see a masked vigilante – a feared predator, a scourge of the underworld – measure his words?

"He was... a good man. He was my friend. I'm sorry."

You stare. You don't blink. You barely even breathe.

"Thank you."

He dips his chin in a nod – his strong chin – and in the edges of the brightness pouring from the spotlight on the roof of the GCPD building – which bears his symbol, a sign of hope and fear, depending on who bears witness – you swear you catch a glimpse of blue in his eyes.

Before you can look closer, can step closer, Batman is gone, melting into the shadows again, disappearing into the dark and bleak night in a rush of wind.

Standing here alone – without him – feels even colder somehow.

note: will i wish i'd edited this in the morning? probably. do i care right now? not at all. also, down comes the night is now the official name for this universe, which i love, but of course, batman bob is always acceptable 😌

summoning a few friends who might be interested: @sometimesanalice @roosterbruiser @callsignspark @rhettabbotts @yanna-banana @ryebecca @withahappyrefrain

[kirbles]

thinking about lae'zel approaching wyll during the party with the tieflings.

she's feeling that post battle high, body full of adrenaline, that she would usually expel with her fellow githyanki through carnal pleasure.

so she considers her options, and ultimately settles on wyll. she approaches him with the intention to bed him, but he's at the water, somber after his experience.

lae'zel in game states how she plans to sleep with wyll, and then the next morning tells you all he wanted to do was talk.

however, she didn't seem all that bothered when she said it. which gives me the impression that she really did just spend the whole night with wyll, talking about everything and nothing.

how sweet if it was lae'zel who eased his somber mood and convinced him back to the party. lae'zel who directed him to her tent with the sole intention of sucking and fucking only to be stopped and asked by wyll if they could just... enjoy each others company in another way.

and she relents, because sex isn't fun if you're both not super into it. but also because wyll is well travelled, and faerun is so new to her. she wants to know more about this plane and the culture. lae'zel is well read about her kind, she would relish in regaling tales to wyll, who would listen with rapt attention.

and while her opinion on the blade of frontiers isn't necessarily a high one, she still enjoys the stories of him slicing down foes that deserve it, and that before the tadpole he was very accomplished at doing so. it's there and then that the two agree to regularly train together, to keep their blades and wits sharp, and maybe even swap tips.

they also swap stories about their childhood, and how their upbringing was so vastly different but also held some similarities.

they're only a few years apart in age, so despite the stark contrast between them, they do feel a sense of kinship; that they are so young, and yet so accomplished and learned, but also so very naive about how the world really works...

after that night of intense emotional connection, i feel like the dynamic would shift slightly. especially if they were to spend more time together outside of their usual battle training.

wyll is no doubt smitten from the start, finding githyanki novel despite their savage history, and being a bit concerned due to being a monster hunter. but the more time he spends with lae'zel (especially after being propositioned almost immediately after meeting) the more he sees beyond just what she was brought up to believe.

he would want to court her in the traditional faerun way, but would have no idea if that's something she could fathom or even want.

however in my mind lae'zel absolutely falls first. because she is so driven by the physical, it's so strange for her to grow so attached to wyll without having ever slept with him. that even a kiss is something he holds out on until wyll is ready, despite her being very forthcoming about the many nasty things she wants to do to him beyond a mere peck.

but it's the strongest emotional connection she has ever had. it dizzies her how he is always on her mind, she wants to monopolise his attention, find any excuse to put her hands on him unrelated to sexual intimacy. she always looks out for him in battle, and swells with pride when he utilises ancient githyanki teachings to win.

she wants him so damn bad!!! but she knows it has to be long term, which contests with the idea of freeing orpheus and her kin.

uggghhhh. i just think they're neat!!!!!!

[famouscyclenerd]

Correction! FREE MY GIRL FROM THE E/RIEL-SHACKLES!

They want her to be stuck with Nesta who used to coddle her and says she's like a dog. With Feyre who thinks she is pleasent enough company, but not a person she would go to with problems nor advice.

They think she has a crush on Azriel after he hurt her feelings, and wounded her pride before thinking of another woman's joy and how he had to stop himself from smiling at the thought of it. His chest didn't spark at Elain's joy when she received the necklace right in front of him, but at the mere image of Gwyn's. Elain returned the necklace and has not spoken to him since. But they caim she still wants him like a desperate woman when they know damn well she said fuck that guy and his bitchy ass necklace. She could spend decades in the Night Court and she wouldn't look twice at him.🥰

They want her to be on her fucking knees for the man who finds it unfair that she isn't his mate when Rhysand got Feyre and Cassian got Nesta. Who couldn't tell Rhysand that he was over Mor. They want her to be with the man who doesn't want her exposed to the trove after she expressed her desire to do something and be helpful.

Ya'll know they would be on Lucien's ass had he been the one who said it, but Lucien would never. And so they glaze over it, pretending that he is protective and cares so much for her! No gurl he's coddling her like a child, something she doesn't want😍

They want her to either reject the bond and forever feel the consequences of it or have Lucien die when Feyre remarks on it being the worst feeling she has ever felt after Rhys dies for like 30 seconds. spoiler alert

They want her wearing fugly night court black dresses when YOU KNOW she changed out of that dress at the first given opportunity. And she has never been seen wearing black again. Maybe because she doesn't like it?? Ever thought of that?

They claim that they had to make her look bad so that Nesta looks good in comparison (feminism has left the chat) and that they purposely used a ugly dress when it's the color itself that Cassian AND Nesta remarks on looking bad on her. They also never mentioned having that kind of plan like wtf??!

"No matter how much she claims to be a part of this court, it sucked the life out of her." She claims and claims to be a part of the Night Court, but it just doesn't work... YIKES! Elain who had been so full of light, so full of life. It has significantly dimmed. "She used to love balls."... not anymore :(

"But Elain smells like jasmine and jasmine blooms at night so she loves it here😋" Yeah and Feyre smells like lilac which blooms in SPRING omfg...🤦‍♀️

Also☝️🤓, they forget the whole quote where Elain's scent is mentioned: "Her sister's delicate scent of jasmine and honey lingered in the red-stoned hall like a promise of spring"

Florals? For spring? Groundbreaking... but "I thought it was pretty obvious."

Me thinks:

[harlowsbby]

Arcade Love

It was a slow boring day there wasn’t really much to do so Jack decided to take you on a little arcade date.

He was a bit hesitant at first considering the last time you both went to a arcade you stopped talking to him for a week because you accused him of cheating at every single game.

“Are you sure coming here was a good idea? You remember what happened last time right?”

You joked as you both walked hand in hand into the Dave & Busters.

“Trust me I remember what happened baby my neck still hurts from sleeping on the couch.” He glared at you playfully while he went ahead and got a play card.

As Jack was paying for the card you ventured out to find a game that you wanted to play first. Your eyes immediately landed on the basketball hoops.

“Babe, what game do you wanna play firs-.” Jack stopped mid sentence when he saw you already waiting by the basketball hoops. “I guess we’re playing basketball first.” He mumbled and made his way over towards you.

“You sure about this babe? You know I do have experience with playing basketball.” He cockily stated. You rolled your eyes at him and took the play card and swiped it.

“Jack, you played basketball in a movie one time and now you think you’re so pro baller? Please we all know white men can’t jump in real life.” His mouth flew open in shock.

“Damn, so it’s like that? Alright let’s see what you got since you know everything. Winner doesn’t have clean for a week.” You scoffed.

“You don’t even clean now!” You defended.

“Whatever come on baby.” You both faced the baskets as the game started.

You made sure to concentrate and put all your energy into this silly little game, Jack glanced at you here and there and laughed as a bit of your tongue stuck out due to you concentrating but that’s when he quickly noticed the score difference.

You were three points ahead of him and before he knew it the buzzer buzzed which singled the game was now over.

“Looks like I was right, white men can’t jump after all.” He huffed.

“Whatever baby you know damn well I would’ve won if we were on the actual court, but what do you wanna do now?”

You glanced around the arcade trying to pick what you wanted to play next when a certain hello kitty plushie caught your eye.

“Jack, I want that.” You told him and his eyes followed your fingers to the hello kitty plushie you were talking about.

“You want that?” You pouted and nodded and looked at it with your eyes wide.

“You think you can win it for me?” You smiled sweetly at him.

In order to win the game he had to throw three baseball balls at a bunch of empty beer bottles, it seemed easy enough but when he actually started playing it he soon realized just how hard it was.

“You struggling buddy?” The tall blond haired man asked Jack with a playful smirk playing on his lips.

“No.” Jack huffed out. “It’s just the ball sucks is all.” The guy laughed.

“Sure blame it on the ball.”

Jack had to hit three red bottles but every time he’d throw the ball and was confident enough that’s he’d smash one of the bottles he would just end up hitting one of the regular clear bottles.

“You got it baby! I believe in you.” You cheered him on from the sidelines. Both of your hands formed a small little prayer as you bit your lip nervously.

Jack so badly wanted to get you the plushie whatever you wanted he made sure you got it no matter the price, but he knew he wasn’t going to win this game no time soon.

“Babe, can you do me a favor and get me some water please?” He kindly asked. “What? Right now? I think you’re about to win.” You urged him on.

“But I’m thirsty babe I just need a sip and I’m positive I’ll get it.”

You nodded and went ahead to go buy him a water, Jack made sure you were out of sight before pulling out his wallet.

“How much for the bear man?” The blonde haired man laughed. “Giving up already? What would your girl think.” Jack rolled his eyes.

“Just tell me how much it is before she comes back!” He spat.

“$50.” Jack’s eyes widened he knew the man was bluffing with the price but he didn’t have time to argue.

“Fine here.” He handed the man the money and the man handed him the hello kitty plushie, just in time because here you came with the water.

“I got your wat-.” You stopped talking when you noticed the hello kitty plushie in Jack’s arms.

“You won!! Oh thank you, thank you. I love you so much Jack.” You squealed as you took the bear from his arms and embraced her in your embrace.

“I can’t believe you won her! I love her so much.” You smiled wildly and walked towards another game. “Yeah he sure did win is alright.” The blonde haired man stated which caused Jack to glare at him.

“I sure did win it baby, you know I’d do anything for you my love.” He smiled.

Even though Jack knew he didn’t exactly win the right way, just seeing the smile and pure joy displayed all over your face was enough for him.

(Idk where I was going with this but enjoy! 💘)

[bellaxgiornata]

Falling For the Devil [Part twelve: "The Week You Tried to Avoid Matt"]

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader

Summary: You're on your period for the first time in your relationship with Matt and you're uncomfortable being around him and don't want him to know.

Or

You drastically overthink Matt's heightened senses and try to repeatedly avoid seeing him for the entirety of your period week.

[Series of one-shots about Reader meeting, falling for, and dating Matt Murdock.]

Warnings: 18+ for this series; contains humor, fluff, romance, angst, smut (like...a lot of it later in the series), language, some violence

Word Count: 3.8k

a/n: Another fluffy and comedic installment here, might be the last one I manage to get transferred over from AO3 tonight. You can find all of the installments for this series that are currently on tumblr here!

Monday

You held the paper up in your hands, your eyes glued to the headline reading "Entrepreneur Figueroa Arrested for Trafficking Women Through Hell's Kitchen." Your name was in the byline next to an image of a disgruntled Figureroa being seated into the back of a police car, his hands in cuffs behind his back. A small smile slid across your mouth.

A hand on your shoulder caused you to jump in surprise, your head turning to spot Katy beside you. She was grinning and eyeing today's issue of The Bulletin in your hands.

"Good job," she said. "You outed that asshole."

You were really wishing you could have thanked Matt as Daredevil for uncovering the incriminating evidence in the article. He was the one who had truly made this possible. But he refused to let you even so much as hint at his assistance in the article.

"You should go celebrate with your man tonight, if you know what I mean," Katy suggested, waggling her eyebrows at you. 

You rolled your eyes, setting the newspaper onto your desk. "You are way too invested in me sleeping with my boyfriend than is healthy," you pointed out. 

"Well I can't sleep with him," she said, scooping a spoonful of yogurt into her mouth. "Someone needs to make sure he's being properly maintained."

" Katy ," you hissed, eyes darting around the office. 

"What?" she asked innocently.

"We're at work," you whispered harshly. "You can't be saying stuff like that."

"No one cares," she said with a shrug, pointing her spoon at Sabrina a few cubicles over. "She slept with some guy at a bar the other night. Told me the details about it over coffee this morning. And Michael," she continued, pointing her spoon at him as he worked on his computer, oblivious to Katy calling him out, "had a pretty eventful last Thursday night. Did you know that he–"

"Oh my God, please stop," you cut her off, holding up a hand and blushing. "We are not having sex tonight, I got my damn period yesterday morning."

And like hell if you were going to be anywhere near Matt this week while you were bleeding. With his heightened senses? No . He didn't need to be aware of…all of that. 

Though the thought of having to avoid him for a week every single month sounded awful and exhausting.

"You know," Katy said, pointing her yogurt spoon at you, "if you fuck in the shower there's not much mess."

" Katy !" you hissed again. 

"What?" she asked with a shrug. "Just giving you some friendly, womanly advice. Period sex is pretty great."

You threw a hand over your face, shaking your head as your cheeks burned. At least you had seen Matt Saturday night, just before you'd gotten cursed this week. And Matt had told you he was working late on a case tonight because he had court this week, so you didn't need to try too hard to avoid him today like you had yesterday. 

Small mercies.

Tuesday 

Setting your hair brush back onto your dresser, you frowned at yourself in the mirror. One hand reached down and tugged at the too-tight waistband of your dress pants. Period bloat fucking sucked. 

With a sigh you turned towards your bed, slipping on the blazer over your blouse, hoping it helped cover some of the water retention of your stomach. You frowned, glancing down at your abdomen that was twisting with uncomfortable cramps. If only you could stay home from work and curl up on your couch with a heating pad. Why weren't you allotted period days along with sick days?

The sound of your phone ringing on the dresser caught your attention. Heading towards it, you saw Matt's name across the screen. You groaned softly. Normally you loved seeing his name displayed across the screen of your phone whenever he called or texted, but right now you were overly aware of the tampon and thin pad you were wearing. 

"Hey, Matt," you answered the call hesitantly.

"Hey, sweetheart," Matt's cheerful voice came through the line. "I was actually up early this morning and was about to head out and pick up coffee before stopping past the office and heading to the courthouse. I was wondering if you'd like to meet up for a few minutes to grab coffee with me?" he asked, sounding hopeful. "I've missed you since Saturday."

His sweet admission had your heart sinking to your bedroom floor. Why were you cursed with a menstrual cycle and a handsome boyfriend who's sense of smell exceeded that of a German shepherd's?

"I uh, I actually woke up late," you lied, cringing but grateful he couldn't hear your heartbeat over the phone to tell you'd lied. It's not like he'd believe you had a dentist appointment after your first date. "I'm probably going to be sprinting to the office at this rate."

"Oh," he answered softly. "Okay, well, I'll probably be having another late night at the office for this case, but I still want to celebrate with you. For your article on Figueroa. Foggy and I pulled some strings with the DA to fast track his case."

"That's great!" you said. "I can't wait for that asshole to go to prison."

"Me too, sweetheart," he said with a chuckle. "But I'll let you finish getting ready, I don't want to hold you up further. But I do want to celebrate with you this week," he reminded you. 

"Yeah, okay," you answered nervously. "Good luck in court today. Send my luck to Foggy and Karen, too."

"Thanks," he said. "I'll call you later tonight, okay? We can at least chat a bit."

"Sounds good, Matty," you replied.

You both hung up and you groaned loudly. Eyes dropping down to your abdomen, you frowned again. 

"So I'm real grateful you didn’t try to make a baby after the mind-blowing sex the other week," you muttered to your uterus, "but like, fuck you for real."

Wednesday 

Staring at your computer monitor, your eyes zeroed in on the half-finished sentence, drumming your fingers on your desk. You'd been struggling through figuring out how to word the article you were working on for the next issue of The Bulletin for the past hour. You needed a break. 

Eyes darting down to the corner of your monitor, you noticed it was about time for your lunch break. Maybe that would help. 

You sat back in your chair, sliding it back a bit from your desk and running your hands through your hair in frustration. Katy leaned back in the cubicle beside you. One of her hands rose to her head, making it into a gun and pretending to shoot herself in the head with it. You giggled, nodding in solidarity. She was apparently struggling on her piece, too.

Your phone began ringing on your desk, the noise catching your attention. Sliding your chair back into your little cubicle you were surprised to see Matt's name on the screen. He had court today, why was he calling?

"What's up, Matt?" you asked curiously when you answered. 

"Hey, so apparently we are breaking a bit early for a two hour lunch today," Matt said. "You want to join Foggy, Karen, and I for lunch at that diner near your office?"

You absolutely fucking did. That greasy grilled cheese and fries sounded really damn good right about now. 

But you were still on your period. Which in turn meant you were still trying to avoid Matt–and it was feeling shittier and shittier each time you did.

Closing your eyes and rubbing a hand over your forehead, you internally screamed. 

"Actually I'm pushing to get this article done before the deadline this evening. Struggling with writer's block," you told him, not entirely lying. Though lunch with all of them would have been a helpful and welcome distraction. 

"Okay, well would you like me to grab you something and bring it by?" he asked slowly. "I know how much you love their grilled cheese."

Damn this perfect, thoughtful man for being so perfect and thoughtful. 

“I already ordered something,” you blurted quickly, wincing as the lie left you. “A few minutes ago,” you added with a cringe. “Otherwise I’d have loved to take you up on the offer, Matty.”

He cleared his throat on the line and you frowned. Maybe you should just tell him why you were avoiding him this week? Though the thought of actually saying the words, “Hey, Matt, I’m on my period and bleeding from my lady parts this week, don’t want your bloodhound nose getting a whiff of my bloody tampon so I’ll see you next week” had you wanting to crawl under your desk and die.

“Alright…” he said, voice trailing off. “I guess I’ll…maybe see you tomorrow?”

“Yeah, definitely,” you said in a rush. “I’m sure we’ll figure it out tomorrow.”

“Okay, I guess I’ll…talk to you tomorrow then, sweetheart,” he replied, his tone sounding a little unsure. “Good luck finishing your article.”

“Thanks, Matt,” you said. “Good luck finishing up that court case.”

After you both hung up, you screamed into your hands and then opened up your Door Dash app, ordering the grilled cheese you’d rather have sat down and eaten with your friends.

Thursday 

Sitting on your couch, legs crossed on the cushions, you shoveled the fettuccine noodles into your mouth. As a contestant on the episode of Nailed It that you were currently binging on Netflix revealed their cupcake, you lost it on the couch, snorting into your hand and trying not to choke on your mouthful of pasta. The warm bowl resting against your abdomen currently felt like heaven for the cramps that had continued throughout this torturous and terrible week.

You were hoping that by Saturday night your period would have tapered out enough that you could maybe risk seeing Matt. In a public setting. Maybe in an Indian restaurant where the strong and wonderful scent of curry might help mask the scent of period blood. 

So far today you’d yet to hear from Matt other than a few texts telling you their court case was finishing up soon, which had been about a little over an hour ago. You’d carried on making dinner despite the awkward feeling in your gut telling you that you were drastically messing things up.

As you scooped more noodles into your mouth, your phone began ringing on the coffee table. Your eyes immediately darted down to it and then they widened when you saw it was Karen calling you. Curiously, you reached over and grabbed your phone, quickly chewing the mouthful of noodles and pausing the show before answering.

“Hey Karen,” you greeted her cautiously, eyes narrowed and suspicious. 

She said your name excitedly in greeting, your suspicion only increasing.

“So we just got out of the courtroom and we won!” Karen exclaimed.

“That’s great!” you replied. “I know you’ve all been stressing over this case for the past couple of weeks.”

“Yeah,” she agreed. “And we were all going to hit up Josie’s tonight to celebrate. And celebrate you and Daredevil getting Figueroa locked up.”

“Oh,” you answered softly.

“So you are avoiding Matt,” Karen stated flatly at your response. “What the hell is up with that?”

“What?” you countered quickly. “I’m–I’m not avoiding him.”

“Relax,” Karen said. “I’m at the office, Matt was finishing up something at the courthouse. I’m far enough away from his bat ears that he can’t eavesdrop on this call. I told him I’d invite you while he finished up with Foggy, but he seemed to think it was futile to try. You want to tell me why he’d say that?”

“I’m on my period,” you blurted.

There was a long silence over the line after your admission.

“Okay?” Karen asked. “And?”

“And that’s it,” you said. “I’m on my period. And Matt has his super senses so, you know, I’m avoiding him.”

“No,” Karen countered, “you have your anxious brain overthinking a situation that doesn’t need to be overthought. Do you plan to avoid him every month for an entire week?”

“I haven’t thought that far ahead,” you admitted sheepishly.

Karen sighed, the sound long and drawn out. “Do you have any idea how many times I’ve had my period around Matt at the office? Or Marci when she’s been around him? Or, hell, I’m sure in the over a year you’ve been friends with him, you’ve had your period before.”

“Sure, true,” you agreed. “But now I’m dating him. Spending time alone with him.”

“You’re being ridiculous,” Karen pointed out.

“Maybe,” you answered.

“So I take it you’re not going to come out tonight?” she asked. “Marci is even coming out.”

“Just…tell Matt I said congrats on the win,” you told her. “Tell him I wasn’t feeling great and went to bed early.”

Karen sighed again, the sound making your heart sink. “You know he’s been bummed all week not seeing you, right? He thinks he did something wrong.”

That hurt to hear.

“Tell him I’ll talk to him tomorrow,” you said softly.

After you’d hung up with Karen and resumed the show, you no longer found it as amusing as you had a few minutes ago. A sinking feeling felt like it was settling in your gut now, right next to the obnoxious cramps and uncomfortable bloat, as you lamely pushed the noodles around in your bowl.

Friday

Sprawled out on your couch, your legs thrown over the backrest as your hands held the heating pad to your abdomen, you zoned out to an episode of Gilmore Girls. You’d gotten back from a busy day at The Bulletin tonight and quickly changed out of your dress pants, feeling like your bloated stomach was going to explode if you remained in them any longer. You’d instead replaced them with a pair of unflattering but insanely comfortable sweatpants and an oversized tee-shirt before collapsing onto your couch. You figured you’d worry about dinner in a little bit.

This afternoon you had actually been busy with work, but you’d managed to talk to Matt for a bit during your lunch break. He didn’t push when you’d told him you were too busy to meet up and eat together, but he did seem oddly more cheerful than he had the past couple of days when you’d been blowing him off. And while you’d been happy about that, you were suspicious. But as the day had picked up, you’d been too busy to give it much thought, and by the time you’d gotten back home, you were just glad this week was finally over.

You were so comfortable and focused on the television that you at first didn’t realize someone was knocking on your apartment door. But a moment later someone knocked again and you nearly jumped out of your skin on the couch. Who would be at your door right now?

Hesitantly you paused the show, setting the remote onto the coffee table and reluctantly removing the heating pad from your aching, cramp-ridden body. Rising to your feet, you made your way to the door of your apartment, pausing long enough to glance through the peephole. The moment you saw Matt’s face covered by his dark glasses you jumped back, eyes going wide. There was absolutely no way to avoid him now. A moment later he called your name through the door and you internally cursed. He obviously would know you were standing right there.

Slowly you unlocked the door, sliding it open a bit and hiding halfway behind it, as if somehow that piece of wood would block his senses from your body.

“Hey, Matt,” you said nervously.

Immediately he raised a hand up towards you and you noticed the bag he was holding.

“I brought dinner,” Matt said with a smile. “Tacos from that Taco truck we both like.”

“Matt, I–”

“You’re on your period,” Matt cut you off, your eyes widening in absolute mortification. “Karen told me last night. Said that’s why you’ve been avoiding me and my super senses this week.”

“Oh my fucking God ,” you groaned, forehead slamming to the front door you were still clinging to. “What the hell happened to girl code?” you complained against the wood.

“Well considering I thought I’d done something wrong and ruined things with you,” Matt said, his tone softer than usual which caught your attention, “I’m glad she said something. I honestly thought that you were…thinking this whole thing was a mistake between us.”

“ What ?” you asked, jaw dropping.

He shrugged from his place still just outside of your apartment. “I have a tendency to destroy the good things in my life,” he answered quietly.

Your heart felt like it had fallen onto the floor. 

“Shit, no, Matt,” you said, pulling the door open all the way. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you feel like that. I was just…” your voice trailed off, trying to search for a reasonable explanation for the way your brain stupidly worked sometimes.

“Overthinking?” Matt supplied.

“Yeah,” you admitted sheepishly. “I’m sorry. I was really shitty to you this week.”

“I mean it wasn’t great,” he said. “But I get it, knowing how you are and all. Though, sweetheart, you can always talk to me. About anything.”

You shot Matt a pointed look as you asked flatly, “I just spent most of the week avoiding you, do you honestly think I’d straight up tell you I was on my period?”

He cracked a little smile in response. “I suppose not, but for the future–and future periods–you can always talk to me. I don’t want you to be uncomfortable and I certainly don’t want you avoiding me for a week again.”

Your gaze awkwardly dropped down to your feet, chewing the inside of your cheek nervously.

“You’re still uncomfortable aren’t you?” he asked. When you nodded he said your name softly before continuing. “I honestly don’t care. I’ve learned to ignore most bodily functions, they barely register with me unless something actually sounds off. You’ve had your period around me many times before–”

“Not helping,” you cut in.

“–and so have many other women,” he continued, grinning at your interruption. “It doesn’t bother me. At all. What does bother me is my girlfriend feeling like shit and not letting me help make her feel better. So…can I come in now?” He raised his other hand, your eyes darting down to the movement. “I brought you chocolate, too. Mint, because you’re insane and I know you like it so much.”

Throwing the door open wide, you stepped forward and wrapped your arms around his waist, burying your face into his dress shirt. Matt chuckled, awkwardly trying to hug you back with his hands full.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, pulling back and grabbing the items from his hands. “Come in, I’ll try to stop being an idiot.”

“You’re not an idiot,” he said softly, closing and locking your apartment door behind himself and resting his cane against the wall. “But I hope you stop worrying about that now. Because I don’t want you to hibernate on me next month. Not unless I get to join in on the hibernation.”

You couldn’t fight the smile on your face as you set the bag of food onto your coffee table. “You’re too good to me, Matty,” you mumbled.

“Naw,” he said, shooting you a wink as he took his dark glasses off. “There’s no such thing when it comes to you.”

“You…want a beer?” you asked, blushing lightly as he made his way towards your couch.

“Sure, sweetheart,” he answered.

You headed into the kitchen, grabbing two beers from your fridge and opening them. When you turned and headed back to the living room, you paused, taking in the sight of Matt on your couch, pulling to-go containers out of the bag and setting them along the coffee table. His tie was a little undone and the sleeves on his white dress shirt were rolled up to his forearms as they usually were by the time he’d reached the end of the day. Eventually he stopped what he was doing, his gaze landing near you across the room as his head tilted to the side. A little smile spread on his mouth.

“What’re you doing?” he asked curiously.

Blushing further at being caught staring, you couldn’t fight back the smile curling your own lips upwards. “I like seeing you on my couch,” you admitted softly. “Like you belong here.”

His smile grew a bit more and you watched as he placed the container in his hand onto the coffee table before he moved it beside himself, patting the couch cushion lightly.

“And I think you belong next to me,” he said. “So come over here, sweetheart.”

You bit your lip, still smiling as you crossed the distance and sat down beside Matt. He accepted the beer you handed to him and swiftly held it up.

“To getting Figueroa arrested,” Matt said.

“Cheers to that,” you said, lightly tapping your bottle to Matt’s.

You took a drink before getting comfortable on the couch, reaching out and setting your beer on the coffee table. “Thank you for bringing me dinner, by the way,” you told him.

His shoulder bumped yours lightly. “I told you I was going to celebrate with you this week,” he said. “And after dinner, we can cuddle up on your couch with that heating pad. I can give you a backrub and you can continue watching your girly show where they talk way too fast, but I request that you narrate a bit. Because I enjoy listening to you narrate shows.”

You turned, eyeing Matt beside you as he opened one of the to-go containers. As he picked up a taco, your hand reached out and gently pinched his leg through his dress pants. Matt abruptly paused, the taco hovering in his hands above the coffee table as his gaze briefly dropped down to where you’d pinched him and then slowly shifted towards you. One of his brows raised as he fought back a smile.

“What was that for?” he asked.

“Just making sure you actually exist,” you told him. “Because I feel like my mind did an exceptional job making you up.”

Matt instantly cracked up, losing his composure. “Now that was a terrible line, sweetheart,” he teased. 

“Not a line,” you corrected him quickly, raising a finger. “A genuine fear. Pretty sure you’re just going to disappear one of these days into thin air. And I’ll just be like ‘yeah, I knew he was too good to be real’.” 

He leant over towards you, planting a kiss to your cheek. His mouth was beside your ear a moment later, his voice drawing goosebumps over your arms.

“I’m not planning to disappear on you, sweetheart,” he whispered. “I like you too much.”

Your heart may have slammed a little too hard into your chest at his words.

[just-some-random-blogger]

The First Snow

Daemon Targaryen x Reader

Summary: Viserys is tired of his pathetic brother being unable to admit his feelings for you because you were the embodiment of everything he hated about the court, so he takes his matters into his own hands.

Word Count: 1k+

Warnings: Fem!reader, exasperated big bro!viserys, in denial!daemon, gossip girl!aemma, bros being bros, fluff, pining, typos, etc.

A/N: just wanted to drop a daemon fic in hopes i can finally do the damn reqs i have T_T i am finishing assignments so i have not proofread this imma skedaddle real quick and hope i dont sound unintelligible Tagging: @pinksirensong @aralezinspace @deniixlovezelda @targaryenmoony @risefallrise @sloanexx

"Well, you do have eyes now, don't you, lover?" Aemma muttered with a grin as she and Viserys walked to their seats in the banquet hall. "Of course, I have eyes, my queen, it's just that I find it hard to believe my brother is unable to admit his feelings to anyone," Viserys sighs as he leads his wife to his seat, "don't you think it's rather miraculous that someone's shut him up?" "Viserys." "What? I'm just saying-" The king and queen make it to their spots but freeze just before they were about to sit. All the room's attention is glued on the long hair prince fumbling back and forth between the table and the knocked food beside him on the floor, as if he didn't know what do, as if he cared about the destruction he just created. Then all at once it made sense as to why he was jittery as he walked over to a woman with a damp dress, who was s profusely apologizing to the servants who were scurrying off to clean the mess that was made, the mess Daemon made. Visery's jaw slacks. Aemma chuckles, "how darling." The king sits on his chair and watches as his brother fidgets with his fingers as he assists the woman with her wine-stained clothing, as if he was a boy who had never touched a woman, as if he had not sullied over half of the women in the damn street of silk. Aemma watches her husband's expression, "I told you so."

Daemon, begrudgingly, dramatically, wholly against his will, marched to his brother's chambers, to where he was summoned so early in the morning.

He did not even bother to tie his hair, he did not even bother to change out of the clothes he wore last night at the banquet and slept in.

"Fucking Viserys, treating me like an errand boy," he mutters under his breath as he shoved the doors open.

And once the doors were open, Viserys and Aemma, who had been attending to the diorama of King's Landing, turn to Daemon, freshly woken up, clearly unhappy to be here. Viserys is on his chair, Aemma is standing behind him.

Daemon thinks of how they mock him with a smile. He sucks in a deep breath, both for theatrics, and to calm himself. "What the fuck do you want, Viserys?" he says lowly with his hands on his hips impatiently.

The king turns to his miniature dragon replica, "good morn to you too, brother."

Daemon sighs, "what do you-"

"I do hope you're not hungover."

Daemon grinds his teeth at his brother's words.

Viserys turns to him with raised brows.

Daemon snorts, "no. I'm not. I'm just fucking pissed I was called her so early to you when I could be damn well sleeping!"

Aemma's ears ring at Daemon's words. She brushes her ears and scolds lowly, "Daemon."

Daemon rolls his eyes, "what do you want?"

Viserys purses his lips and puts his dragon down, "well, perhaps you'd like to know that most of the guests from last night have already left."

Daemon shifts on one leg and taps his foot on the other.

"That includes Aemma's dear friend, and arguably your favorite lady-"

Daemon is stoic when he hears the name Viserys says. Viserys is partial impressed and disappointed by how good his brother is masking his emotions right now. Then the king thinks, it's either that, or he really is pissed for being woken up so early.

"So?!" the prince quips like a child, "what does that matter to me?"

Daemon waits. Viserys knits his brows.

The prince cannot believe it. He scoffs, "You woke me up for that?!"

Viserys' nose flare. His jaw ticks.

"My king," Aemma places a hand on his shoulders.

The king scoffs, "well, then, you must not care that is has begun to snow, then."

Daemon is in utter disbelief. Why the fuck would h-

"Nor the fact that your lady has been fucking injured on her way home back to her estate!" Viserys seethes.

Daemon freezes, "what?"

Viserys averts his gaze and focuses on his figurines. You want sour? He can give sour.

"Viserys, what-"

"Well, I suppose I do apologize for waking you for such trivial-"

"Where is she?!" Daemon cuts, "wher- where did-"

"Oh, I don't know!" Viserys snaps, "maybe she's been taken back to her home to be tended to, for gods sake, Daemon," he looks at him with annoyance, "but then again, you don't care anyway, so why bother to-"

Daemon exits in a rush before his brother could finish his rant.

Aemma massages Viserys' shoulders are he deflates. She purses her lips at the sight of him.

He rests his face in his hand, "I do this for him, but then he treats me like I'm a fly buzzing around his damned ear."

Aemma sighs then and offers, "you mayhap were too cruel to make him believe the lady was injured, my dear."

Viserys scoffs, "oh, he'll get over it," he crosses his arms, "that'll teach him for disrespecting his older brother," he hisses, "his fucking king!"

Aemma purses her lips, "oh, you're just as bad as he is, Viserys."

Viserys turns to her, brows knit, "take that back."

In his haste, Daemon managed to get to the stables, stealing a coat from the stable keeper and mounting on his horse. He quickly put it on, but then decided it would take to much time to do so, so he begins to ride off on his ride.

It was nothing short of a miracle that he saw who he saw, just as he was galloping out of the castle walls. Daemon stops his steed so abruptly he nearly ends up injuring the both of them. Another miracle was that he didn't.

I perk in my seat and open my carriage door right after it had been closed just as I hear someone scream my name out from outside.

"Yes?" I call in concern, "what has happened? What is the commotion?"

The next second, I pull back in shock and clutch my chest when the face of a disheveled prince with his wild, blonde hair spilling over his face, his dress shirt loose and open, and only one of his two sleeves on his coat worn on his arm heaves in front of me, frantic, panic and alarmed.

I raise my brows at him, leaning over, "my prince I-"

"Are you injured?"

I pull my head back and look at him for a moment. I watch as he pants and clutches the door and its frame, awaiting expectantly for my reply. My lips part and for some reason, I think to examine myself before answering, "n... no. I am not injured, your grace."

Daemon huffs then raises his brows, "have you gotten into an accident because of the snow?"

I give him a face. I knit my brows harshly as I shake my head incredulously, "my prince... it does not snow in King's Landing."

Daemon mimics my expression as he rolls his shoulders back and drops his arms to his side.

I raise my brows at him in concern and reach out for his cheek. I whisper, "Daemon."

Daemon stills against my touch.

I brush his hair away with both my hands and tuck his long tresses behind his ears. I frown at him and his rigid demeanor, "is everything alright?"

He snatches my one hand before I can pull it away.

And then he has me stiffening because of how he says my name. He speaks it so softly. So... caringly. I narrow my eyes at him. What has the prince all worked up like this?

I wait for him to continue his thoughts but instead he looks at me intently.

I huff and shake my head, "what is it, Daemon? What's wrong."

"I..." he starts softly, "I don't want you to leave," he utters, solemnly.

My jaw slacks. I straighten in my seat, "what?"

He brings my palm to his cheek and presses it there with his own, "I want you to stay with me."

I suck in a sharp breath, "what?"

Does he have a fever? No... but he's naturally quite warm.

Daemon's face softens and then it stiffens again, "actually," he pushes past me and forces his way into my ride, sitting in front of me, "take me with you."

"W-wh-"

"I must speak with your father."

"Daemon, I-"

He sticks his head out of the door and screams for my rider to go, shutting the door behind him as he turns back to me with a glint in his eye.