#i need to leave this man alone

[strawberrystepmom]

nsfw - mdni. this isn't graphic it's foreplay but i'm suffering leave me alone. fukuzawa x f!reader. implied age gap, size kink if you squint, reader is wearing a dress, he is referred to as reader's boyfriend. divider by cafekitsune!

"Sweetheart?"

The term of endearment draws your attention away from your sketchbook and where it rests in front of you. You lay on your front in your boyfriend's bed, swinging your legs behind you, and grin at the sound of Yukichi's voice coming from down the hallway.

"In here," you shout back to confirm your location. He wasn't expecting you'd be here at all, assuming you'd skulk back to your apartment instead of his home, but relief washes over him hearing your call.

You are just what he needs after the day he has had. There is never a dull moment at the Armed Detective Agency.

"Welcome home."

You turn to look over your shoulder and see him entering the room, haori draped over his arm. Raising his eyebrows when he takes a look at your position, a bright grin spreads across your face.

"I probably should have called you and told you I'd be here but I forgot." Eyes following his movements, you watch him hang up his garments and make his way to the bed where you lay, the mattress dipping slightly beneath his weight when he slides his knees onto it. "After my appointment I came straight here."

Wordlessly, he glances downward at your body and slides his hands over the curve of your ass, the relieved sigh he breathes making you giggle.

"Did you miss me?"

The man you are so enchanted by leans down to kiss your cheek, hands sliding from your ass to your hips and finally, your waist. He feels so imposing when he positions himself like this over you and heat warms your face, traveling from your cheeks to your heart and to places even lower than that.

"Always until we meet again. How was your day?"

Sighing, you lean forward on your elbows and hunch your shoulders, clasping your hands in front of you. Overall, the day was fine but you have to play up the drama for his sake more than your own. It's one of the things he loves the most about you, that penchant for making even the mundane a tale.

"It was really fine. I went to pick up some groceries, dropped those books I forgot to return off with an apology note. I even remembered to stop and get lunch today." You smile softly, enjoying the feel of his body above yours even if desire makes you wish he'd run those hands over your body again, mapping out territory that belongs to him like a lord in days long passed with his fief. "My appointment went okay, I'll have my blood work back in a few days."

Without any warning, his hands slide up your waist and one of his fingers presses one of the buttons on the back of your dress, unfastening it. Turning your head and glancing over your shoulder, Yukichi pauses for a moment and half smiles, sliding his knees onto either side of your hips.

"Keep going. You were telling me about your appointment."

With a nibble of your lower lip you nod and press your chest into the bedding beneath you, flattening the curve of your spine. He finds the next button keeping the soft skin of your back hidden from his sight and pops it out of the hole keeping it in place, the gap in your dress now wide enough that he can see your shoulder blades.

"The appointment was easy, just in and ou..."

Whatever words that existed on your tongue die when he curls his index finger and brushes the back of the digit over your flesh, goosebumps erupting after the feather light touch. You shiver in response and Fukuzawa chuckles, leaning over your body and letting his slightly overgrown hair brush against you.

"It was in and out?" He asks from right above your ear, lower lip brushing the upper shell of it. "That's great. I was worried they'd keep you waiting."

Those offensively elegant and nimble fingers still make easy work of the buttons on the back of your dress and a whine escapes you and as quiet as you try to make it, he catches it with ease and smirks. You feel the curve of his lips against your ear, the sensation causing you to arch your back enough that your chest is off of the mattress completely.

"We both know how impatient you become when made to wait, don't we?"

[roachcicle]

AHHGGGHHHHH brothers:)

[messmers]

HE LOOKS LIKE HE WORKS WITH HIS HANDS AND SMELLS LIKE MARLBORO REDS IT MAKES ME SO UHH AND I CANT GET ENOUGH OF IT

[starry-bi-sky]

i need to get this out of my head before i continue clone^2 but danny being the first batkid. Like, standard procedure stuff: his parents and sister die, danny ends up with Vlad Masters. He drags him along to stereotypical galas and stuff; Danny is not having a good time.

He ends up going to one of the Wayne Galas being hosted ever since elusive Bruce Wayne has returned to Gotham. Vlad is crowing about having this opportunity as he's been wanting to sink his claws into the company for a long while now. Danny is too busy grieving to care what he wants.

And like most Galas, once Vlad is done showing him off to the other socialites and the like, he disappears. Off to a dark corner, or to one of the many balconies; doesn't matter. There he runs into said star of the show, Bruce who is still young, has been Batman for at least a year at this point, but still getting used to all these damn people and socializing. He's stepped off to hide for a few minutes before stepping back into the shark tank.

And he runs into a kid with circles under his eyes and a dull gleam in them. Familiar, like looking into a mirror.

Danny tries to excuse himself, he hasn't stopped crying since his parents died and it's been months. He rubs his eyes and stands up, and stumbles over a half-hearted apology to Mister Wayne. Some of Vlad's etiquette lessons kicking in.

Bruce is awkward, but he softens. "That's alright, lad," he says, pulling up some of that Brucie Wayne confidence, "I was just coming out here to get some fresh air."

There's a little pressing; Bruce asks who he's here with, Danny says, voice quiet and grief-stricken, that he's with his godfather Vlad Masters. Bruce asks him if he knows where he is, and Danny tells him he does. Bruce offers to leave, Danny tells him to do whatever he wants.

It ends with Bruce staying, standing off to the side with Danny in silence. Neither of them say a word, and Danny eventually leaves first in that same silence.

Bruce looks into Vlad Masters after everything is over, his interest piqued. He finds news about him taking in Danny Fenton: he looks into Danny Fenton. He finds news articles about his parents' deaths, their occupations, everything he can get his hands on.

At the next gala, he sees Danny again. And he looks the same as ever: quiet like a ghost, just as pale, and full of grief. Bruce sits in silence with him again for nearly ten minutes before he strikes a conversation.

"Do you like to do anything?"

Nothing. Just silence.

Bruce isn't quite sure what to do: comfort is not his forte, and Danny doesn't know him. He's smart enough to know that. So he starts talking about other things; anything he can think of that Brucie Wayne might say, that also wasn't inappropriate for a kid to hear.

Danny says nothing the entire time, and is again the first to leave.

Bruce watches from a distance as he intercts with Vlad Masters; how Vlad Masters interacts with him. He doesn't like what he sees: Vlad Masters keeps a hand on Danny's shoulder like one would hold onto the collar of a dog. He parades him around like a trophy he won.

And there are moments, when someone gets too close or when someone tries to shake Danny's hand, of deep possessiveness that flints over Vlad Masters' eyes. Like a dragon guarding a horde.

He plays the act of doting godfather well: but Bruce knows a liar when he sees one. Like recognizes like.

Danny is dull-eyed and blank faced the entire time; he looks miserable.

So Bruce tries to host more parties; if only so that he can talk to Danny alone. Vlad seems all too happy to attend, toting Danny along like a ribbon, and on the dot every hour, Danny slips away to somewhere to hide. Bruce appears twenty minutes later.

"I was looking into your godfather's company," he says one night, trying to think of more things to say. Some nights all they do is sit in silence. "Some of my shareholders were thinking of partnering up--"

"Don't."

He stops. Danny hardly says a word to him, he doesn't even look at him -- he's sitting on the ground, his head in his knees. Like he's trying to hide from the world. But he's looking, blue eyes piercing up at Bruce.

Bruce tilts his head, practiced puppy-like. "Pardon?"

"Don't." Danny says, strongly. "Don't make any deals with Vlad."

It's the most words Danny's spoken to him, and there's a look in his eyes like a candle finding its spark. Something hard. Bruce presses further, "And why is that?"

The spark flutters, and flushes out. Danny blinks like he's coming out of a trance, and slumps back into himself. "Just don't."

Bruce stares at him, thoughtful, before looking away. "Alright. I won't."

And they fall back into silence.

Danny, when he leaves, turns to look at Bruce, "I mean it." He says; soft like he's telling a secret, "Don't make any deals with him. Don't be alone with him. Don't work with him."

He's scampered away before Bruce can question him further.

(He never planned on working with Vlad Masters and his company; he's done his research. He's seen the misfortune. But nothing ever leads back to him. There's no evidence of anything. But Danny knows something.)

At their next meeting, Danny starts the conversation. It's new, and it's welcomed. He says, cutting through their five minute quiet, that he likes stars. And he doesn't like that he can't see them in Gotham.

Bruce hums in interest, and Danny continues talking. It's as if floodgates had been opened, and as Bruce takes a sip of his wine, it tastes like victory.

("Tucker told me once--") ("Tucker?") ("Oh-- uh, one of my best friends. He's a tech geek. We haven't talked in a while.")

(Danny shut down in his grief -- his friends are worried, but can't reach him. When he goes back to the manor with Vlad, he fishes out his phone and sends them a message.)

(They are ecstatic to hear from him.)

It all culminates until one day, when Danny is leaving to go back inside, that Bruce speaks up. "You know," He says, leaning against the railing. "The manor has many rooms; plenty of space for a guest."

The implication there, hidden between the lines. And Danny is smart, he looks at Bruce with a sharp glean in his eyes, and he nods. "Good to know."

The next time they see each other, Danny has something in his hands. "Can you hold onto something for me?" He asks.

When Bruce agrees, Danny places a pearl into his palm. or, at least, it's something that looks like a pearl. Because it's cold to the touch; sinking into Bruce's white silk gloves with ease and shimmering like an opal. It moves a little as it settles into his hand, and the moves like its full of liquid.

Bruce has never seen anything like it before, but he does know this; it's not human. "What is it?" He asks, and Danny looks uncomfortable.

"I can't tell you that." He says, shifting on his foot like he's scared of someone seeing it. "But please be careful with it. Treat it like it's extremely fragile."

When Bruce gets home, he puts it in an empty ring box and hides the box in the cave. He tries researching into what it is. he can't find anything concrete.

Everything comes to a head one day when Danny appears at the manor's doorstep one evening, soaking wet in the rain, and bleeding from the side.

[fairsweetlonging]

okay but post-canon luo binghe suddenly being atticwifed by an overly jealous shen qingqiu and feeling euphoric bc omg shizun can't stand the thought of binghe being with anyone else and is locking him up to be his only thing in the world!! shizun wants only him and no one else!!! shizun is guarding him like vicious dragon guarding its precious treasure!! he's living it up being shizun's house wife only, doing nothing but serving his husband and proudly wearing the chain like it's a second wedding ring and basking in the jealous attention like there's no tomorrow

but then it turns out shen qingqiu actually got hit with one of pidw's wife plot-pollen that made him act so jealous and crazy, and when it's over (either by papapa or time), shen qingqiu profusely apologizes and says he'd never do such a thing to binghe and it wasn't like him at all and binghe stands there like "oh..."

[skunkes]

its over (positive)

[ganondoodle]

should surprise absolutely no one that i much much much prefer radahn when hes older (and not mindless! or mindcontrolled!)

(doesnt look amused about what malenia just did in that ol trailer- and possibly even moreso about what she said)

that (and base game) version of him is the only one to meeeeeeeee

[radiocrypt-id]

I got- I can't!

Imagine being 15, you've grown up your whole life with this one belief in this one God and you were told you were Chosen by Him, for Him. And you're 15. You believe so fully in the spirit of your religion, not necessarily the word, that you want to go to a non-religious school to try and help other kids maybe find your God because you genuinely believe that could be helpful to some of them, because it's all you know, and it's helped other strangers (human trafficking victims she helped in the black pit before) so why not other kids her age? You're 15 and all you can think about is helping others. And you start thinking about your religion, and reading books, and asking questions and you come to the conclusion that maybe your God and His Father aren't actually all that great. Maybe the church you're in has done some really bad things that you can't possibly make up for. Maybe that church is still doing bad things. And then you find out your family is actually in a cult for that God, not just part of the normal church, and you suddenly have to undo all the cult shit in your brain you were raised with, while that cult stuff you know about is actually useful to your friends, like having that knowledge is helpful for them! You're 15 and you stop going home. You have no real adult supervision or carer, just your other 15 year old friends.

Imagine you're 16, you're gay and figuring that out on top of navigating your first full romantic relationship and being the sole creator and cleric to a new God that you honestly find to be very two dimensional and empty. You're on a quest to find an evil being and stop them. You nearly die. Your friends nearly die. You're 16. You're 16 and feel something calling out to you, you know it's divine because you've felt that sort of pull before, but you've never felt one like this. You find memories and hints and pieces and you figure out that the evil being you have to stop, isn't evil, she's just hurting. She's hurt and She's a God. She's your God, and she's so happy to see you, and she has so many ideas, and so many hopes.

You're 17. You've spent your rest time (summer vacation) tearing across the world chasing down and defeating another evil thing that you and your friends accidentally released in the first place. Your God is with you, you have no time for Her. No time for anything but trying to survive and stay sane. You know She's disappointed in you, but you're one person -ONE PERSON- and you're 17. You missed your birthday. again. You've saved the world; again. You're so fucking tired -like always. You're Chosen, and alone, and have no idea what to do with your life, let alone your God. You aren't very good at school, but you go to every class. You're drowning as you try to rewrite your understanding of the world from what you grew up with, having no idea how to do anything without a book and godly hand to guide you. You only ever followed before, your new God is demanding you Lead. You don't know how. You're only 17. You see your horrible, abusive parents spitting abuse and racist rhetoric at your baby brother, who you haven't seen in two years, on the front steps to your school and for the first time ever you are filled with righteous fury. Your God answers your call, not knowing what you need but so eager to help, eager for your attention, she starts talking to you but you're busy -why can't she understand that you're fucking busy? trying to not die, trying to be safe, trying to keep your friends alive, trying to navigate a world that hates you, you're 17 and you're busy goddammit just wait!- and she snaps back at you and flees. The next time you see Her, maybe an hour later, She's got a creature with Her that nearly destroyed you and your friends last year sitting in her lap, so smug to see you again.

You're 17- no, 16- no, 15 years old and you're expected to build and carry the world on your shoulders, Chosen from birth, raised a lamb to follow a Shepard, not to be followed behind. You have no one and nothing and everyone expects everything and you can't back up, you can't pause because if you do someone dies and doesn't come back. You have to be a hero, a chosen, a saint. The steps behind you crumble to dust with each step you take forward and the new one is already cracking under your weight. There are only wrong choices. There's no hand reaching for you. God, you were taught, will save and guide you. God knows best. Why is your God looking to you, a mortal human, to be saved, raised and guided? You're a child.

You're just a child.

You just want to go home, wherever that is. You thought it was your God, but She's not exactly helping you out either, is She? She's just disappointed. Like everyone else. Like you.

You're 17. You think it would have been better to never do any of this. It would have been easier to stay, blind and naive. Sometimes you think you should have stayed in heaven. Sometimes you think about the God you killed by not being good enough for it. Sometimes you lay on the floor and stare at the ceiling and pretend you don't exist for awhile. Sometimes you work your body so hard you forget it's there and your mind shuts up and you exist without being you. Sometimes you wish you never asked any questions or read any books. You're 17, but sometimes you wish you were 15, with no idea yet.

You're 17. You wish you were good enough.

[spaciebabie]

SHUT UP DO YOU UNDERSTAND???? DO YOU UNDERSTAND??? DO YOU??? DO YOU UNDERSTAND????? DO YOU SEE??? DO YOU FUCKING SEE???? HES DOIGN!!! HES DOING THE THING SWHERE THEY!!! THEY YANNO THEY!!!!!!!!

[opal-owl-flight]

I havent finished the Cap4 Ocean Saga yet but I DID find these silly snippets from before it released so I had to draw over it BAHAHAH

[uhhhitsgray]

i am absolutely losing my fucking mind over astarion from baldurs gate 3... fuck off, WHO and WHY did he need to be so sexy? HUH, answers now.

[scatterpatter]

POV you live in a swing state

[uglynavel]

Since I'm back in my teen wolf obsession after the movie I'm just gonna say it. The vitriolic hatred for both Scott McCall and Tyler Posey was just fucking racism. There was literally no reason to hate them so much and every excuse I've seen people have for hating Scott is that he didn't center himself around Stiles (his white friend) more.

Scott McCall's only flaw was that he loved his friends too much and he was too trusting and forgiving of people.

I'm all for ship and let ship but Tyler is right about Sterek being weird. Stiles was a minor and Derek was at least 20-23 and as a former Sterek shipper who has seen the light. I don't blame Tyler. Y'all got hella annoying with that ship.

Sterek was never queerbait

Stiles and Derek did not like each other. They only tolerated each other because of Scott. Derek literally says he only came back to beacon hills for Scott. Y'all let Dylan and Tyler Hoechiln convince you otherwise.

Also people hating Scott is another case of white people having this weird issue with not being able to relate to a poc character because y'all literally take all of Scott's traits and give them to Stiles (because mostly I only see white people hating him and a few people of color)

The "iconic" baseball batt and red hoodie y'all love to give Stiles is literally what Scott was wearing in episode 1 of Season 1

EDIT: I'll also never forgive you FREAKS for bullying Tyler Posey after his mom died and said it was karma for saying sterek is weird. You people are fucking sick, disgusting pathetic excuses of a human being--no you're not human. You're literal scum for doing that.

Stiles and Dylan O'Brien were not the face of Teen Wolf. It is Tyler and Scott. Hell for example the sims 3 Supernatural. The werewolf on the cover looks like season 1 Scott.

I LOVE Stiles but those certain Stiles fans have put a sour taste in my mouth for the character.

Also the "Scott McCall is a bad friend" tag is so dumb cause Stiles and every other character on that show would laugh in your face if you tried to tell them that

[dancingdorito]

y'all care way too much about these actors and their personal lives. get a fucking job and a life and let them live in peace, they don't owe you shit.

i'm so done w people who ship real life people and get MAD when they aren't dating, acting as if they know them personally bc they stalked them online (and sometimes in person). are you really so lonely and desperate for this to mean so much to you? i guess so.

get mad at celebrities who actually do harmful shit and not ones protecting their privacy. go back to your elementary education and think about how you would like to be treated were you in their shoes. then kindly fuck off to hell <3

i have so many other things i wish to do with my time other than scold mindless middle age horny people on the internet.

[eggcats]

hi, sorry, but the only time Vox ever "tops" is when he is ON top of Alastor riding him for all he's worth

[mercisnm]

modern AU or something

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