#like maybe I don't have to clam up every time I feel like this

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Blurred Lines 8

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Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, power imbalance, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Your relationship with your boss takes an unpredictable turn.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

The hotel room is nice. Two beds, a couch and chairs, a bar, a large TV mounted on the wall, balcony, full bath... every amenity you could never afford. You're sure Nick will expect a big thank you. Or at least many. 

Joey goes to the bar as you feel along the lapels of Nick's jacket. You forgot you were wearing it. You lower yourself into a clam shell armchair. You sigh as the adrenaline drips from you. She clucks as she nears and puts down two glasses. 

"Looks like you need a drink," she sits in the other chair and pops the cork of the mini wine bottle. "Hell, so do I." 

You lean your head on your hand as you watch her, "I don't think--" 

"Long night," she insists as she pours, nudging a glass closer to you. You lean forward to take it. You pinch the stem and stare into the golden nectar. 

"Honey," you begin. 

"I'm okay," she assures you. "Mom, it could've been worse. So much worse but..." she pauses to drain half the glass, "you sent in the goon squad." She scoffs as she hunches, leaning her elbows on her thighs, knees wide. "Mom, who the hell do you work for?" 

You chew your cheek and sip. You look around the suite which probably costs as much as your rent for one night. You lean back as the tension racks your back. 

"CIA, I think. I saw his badge once," you say. 

"CIA?" She echoes in awe. 

"Plus, they had it stamped all over that work event," you scoff. You look down at the deep vee of the dress and try to pull it closed. 

"He took you on a date?" She asks. 

You flinch, "no, no," you shake your head and drink again. "He's my boss. And I'm a bit old for that." 

"Never too old, mom," she cooes. 

"He's too young for me," you counter. 

"You know," she sniffs, "dad only ever wanted you to be happy." 

"Joey..." you exhale. 

"I'm just saying. Seems a bit much for a boss to do. Take you somewhere in that dress, then come to my rescue with his CIA henchmen..." she sucks her teeth. "I stick to women because most men, don't put in that much effort." 

You chuckle, "Joey." 

"Or they're creeps. Old creeps," she gives an exaggerated shudder. "Oof. Nasty." 

You frown, "honey." 

"It's over with. I'm moving on," she looks at the glass of wine in her hand. "I gotta find a new placement." 

You nod, "Nick said something about that. Maybe he can help." 

"I wouldn't want that. It's my problem." 

"Sweetheart--" 

"Look, I'm so thankful about everything you did. Him too but... I'm an adult." 

"I know that, honey," you say. 

"So let me figure it out." 

You sit back and nod. You know what she means. Ever since your husband died, you can be a bit much. 

"Mom," she says gently. "You don't need anyone else to take care of. You need to take care of yourself. For once." 

"I do--" 

"No, you work yourself to the bone to look after everyone else. When's the last time you took a vacation?" 

You feel like a scolded child. The reversal of roles has you off-kilter, more so than the rest of the night. You shrug. 

"Right, well, it's been a long day, night, whatever," she yawns behind her hand. "I'm going to crash out. Please try to do the same." 

"Yes, Josephine," you answer meekly. 

"Oh, don't," she points a finger in your direction. 

"Sometimes..." you stand slowly. "You remind me too much of your father." 

"Good. He always did keep you sane," she chuckles. 

🩵

"Hmm, well, I didn't expect all this." You mutter to yourself as you look at your reflection. You turn amd cringe at the wrinkled dress. 

"Still look hot," Joey whistles. 

"Hey." You stick your tongue put at her as she passes, "not exactly dressed for the train. Or bus... I haven't heard from Nick." 

"Huh? Really? I'm sure you will." She slithers.  

"We're not having this conversation again." 

"Fine, but denial isn't that deep of a river. You can't hide forever." She laughs and you shake your head. 

You go into the bathroom, dejected by the full body view. You tame your hair as best you can and pause to examine the wrinkles around your eyes. Age isn't so bad. Lonelier than you expected. 

"Speak of the devil..." Joey appears in the open door and you stand straight. "Looks who's calling." 

You turn to her and grab the phone. You arch a brow at her and answer. She always loves to tease you. Nick? He's your boss. And he's as close to her age as yours. Probably. 

"Hello?" You say. Joey tilts her head as she leans on the door frame. 

"Hey, Nick," you daughter calls out. 

You hush her with a wagging finger. 

"Hi, ladies." He returns smoothly. 

"So," you try to ignore Joey. "I can find my way home--" 

"No need, I'm downstairs." He interrupts. 

"Downstairs?" You echo. 

"Sure. You know. I had some loose ends to tie up so I hung around and got that done. No point driving home in the dark." He drawls. "Figured I'd give you a lift back to town." 

"Right, eh..." you rub the back of your neck. "Sure. Makes sense." 

"I can take care of myself, mom," Joey trills. "You got... 'work'." She gestures with her fingers. You roll your eyes. 

"I'll get myself together," you say. "Won't be lomg at all." 

"Take your time, honey." He says. 

"Alright. Bye." 

You hang up and turn to sneer at Joey. "He's my job-- my boss. It's funny but not that funny." 

"Chill, mom. It's a joke. Come on. I just think it's cute. Thinking of you dating... anyone." 

"Because it will never happen," you approach her. "Now," you put your hands on her arms. "I have to go home. As much as I'd rather stay but... law school ain't cheap." You pull her into a hug. "I'm so so happy you're safe. So happy." You pull back and look her in the face. "And thank you for calling me. You know you can do that always." 

"Yes, mom. Better count on it," she grins. 

"Oh, if you don't. You'll hear from me." You pinch her cheek playfully. "Love you, kiddo." 

She snorts. "Kiddo? Only dad called me that." 

"Well... You've always me my kid. Always will be." 

"Alright, mom." She makes a face. "Love you too." 

"Oh, don't let me keep you from that lovely girlfriend of yours. Hope you two have fun," you chirp.  

"Oh, you too," she counters sharply. 

You sigh and shake your head. You squeeze her hand then make yourself let go. You head for the front room of the sweet and grab Nick's jacket off the back of the chair. You'll use it for cover until you're out of the hotel. 

You groan as you slip into the heels. Your arches are still aching from the night before. You snatch up your purse and look back one last time. Joey winks and waves.  

“You message when you’re back home safe.” You warn. 

“Oh, you too. Can’t have you out riding in cars with boys too late.” 

You scoff and leave her. You definitely raised her right. You head down the hallway on what feels like a walk of shame. The deja vu to the years you were Joey’s age is almost paralysing. 

You stand in the elevator with a family of four. The parents are yawning as the kids can barely keeping from hooting and jumping. You always wondered what it would be like to have more than one but then again, you only wanted what you could handle. Josephine was always enough. 

You smile at the mother as she sends you an apologetic look on ground level. You wait for them to go first before you step off. You can’t imagine that you give off the best impression. Slightly disheveled and worn out. 

You check your phone as you cross the lobby. As you get to the doors, you slow. Nick’s outside; waiting.  He surely got a lot done as you tossed and turned in the hotel room.

Unlike you, he has a fresh set of clothes; dark blue slacks, a lilac button-up. His hair is styled and he hides behind a pair of dark sunglasses. His head tilts as if he's taking in your measure.

“Sir,” you greet him as the automatic doors set your free. He smirks. He must be amused to see you this out of sorts. As his maid, you're typically the one keeping things in order.

“Morning. You look well-rested.” He puts a hand on his hip. 

“Oh, very,” you agree dryly and touch the front of the jacket. “Um, sorry about the jacket. You can take it back.” 

“Suits you better,” he waves you off. 

“I’ll have it drycleaned,” you assure him. 

“Not worried about it, honey. Let’s get home first.” He steps back. “Got us a rental.” 

You nod and step forward. He turns to walk beside you. He points you toward the silver blue car. A two-seater with an oblong hood. The expensive kind. Ostentatious. 

“Here,” he jumps ahead of you. He opens the passenger door. “Got it.” 

“Thank you, Mr. Fowler.” You duck down and sit. 

“What happened to Nick?” He looms above you, his hand on the top of the door. 

“Nick,” you correct yourself. “Habit.” 

“Mr. Fowler makes me sound old,” he tilts his head. 

“Nope, just me,” you chuckle lackadaisically. 

He hums and clucks. He gently shuts the door then round the car to the driver’s side. You sit patiently, content enough to laze away the drive home. If he doesn’t mind, you might even close your eyes. 

He settles in as the faint scent of his cologne wafts off the jacket. You shift around as he gets the motor humming. You pull down the seat belt and peek over at him. You’re surprised to find him watching you. 

“You okay?” You ask. 

“I was about to ask you the same thing.” He says. 

“Oh?” 

“Why don’t you get some sleep? I’m sure you and Joey were up all night catching up.” He sets his sights straight and puts the car in gear. “Be a couple hours.” 

“I won’t say I didn’t think of it,” you stifle another yawn. 

You shimmy in the seat as he steers round the lot. You stare through the windshield, your eyes rolling with motion of the car. You let your shoulders relax as your eyelids grow heavier. 

After all the fear, the adrenaline, the panic, and the uncertainty, you’re completely drained. The night kept you awake in disbelief and anxiety. Now, you’re on your way back to normalcy. When did you become so adverse to change? You thought you learned to deal with that a long time ago. 

[phyllocnistis]

kind strangers

butch4butch threesome with a nervous baby butch getting his fucking guts rearranged by some older dykes

this was really fun!! longer than my normal ones but slutty and hot

your skin sticks to the inside of your leather jacket, warm from the night outside. still, you had brought it with you, convinced you looked cooler when you wore it. and maybe you did! was that really something for you to decide?

striding forward, you navigate through crowded pathways bumping into people as you go. it's not too crowded tonight, but there are definitely some unfamiliar faces. there's a beautiful lady you'd never seen off to the side wearing a denim vest and plaid dress that hugged her in all the right places- she was a total babe. it looked like she was waiting for friends, maybe a date? you set off towards her nervously, tripping a little on your shoes as you do.

"h-hi," you stammer out, cheeks flushing red. she looks puzzled but amused by you.

"hi?" she responds quizzically.

"i-i was just wondering if you-" a tall, lean figure slides in next to the woman, their arm wrapping around her waist, promptly ending the conversation.

feeling humiliated, you turn and rush to the bar, desperately in need of a drink. your arm brushes against someone else's as you sit down and you're even more aware of how goddamn hot this jacket really was. you peel it off of yourself, flustered at how the night had started. putting your head in your hands, you let out a sigh, biceps involuntarily flexing as you grow frustrated.

"rough night, huh? here," the voice startles you, but it was thick and rich, like syrup. looking up, you find a shot you didn't order on the bar in front of you. your chest tightened when you saw the body the voice belonged to.

"i'm beau," they continued. beau was leaning against the bar, one elbow propped up to steady them. they wore nice jeans that hugged their tummy beneath the tucked in flowy shirt that hung off their shoulders. a large brimmed cowboy hat sat perfectly over what you thought was a curly mullet, though it was too dark to tell. the gold of their necklace glinted at you off their chest, causing your eyes to flutter and your mind to slam back to reality. you'd never really been on for butches but something about them was enticing.

"h-hi. hi beau. i'm jay. is this for me?" you ask, gesturing to the shot.

they laugh, turning around to put both arms on the bar.

"yeahhhhh, seems like you got it pretty rough over there. we watched the whole thing and i remember times bein like that, figured we could lend a hand. this is lou,"

before your mouth could catch up to ask questions, a second person emerged from beside beau, taller and more sturdy looking. they were stunning, too. long, dark hair fell from beneath a bandana and onto a white, fitting tank top. their arms were wide, too big to see individual muscles but built nonetheless. a similar necklace to beau's is around around their neck, swaying gently as they waved.

"to jay!" lou's voice was loud and boisterous, filling the room with joy and your stomach with embarrassment. you feel your cheeks running hot again, but you're not sure they ever returned to their normal color in the first place. you didn't have time to think though, lou and beau were holding their shots up high, waiting for you to do the same. reluctantly, you clinked your glass on theirs and downed the shot.

it burned. it felt nice, too. it was relieving to know you could feel something other than humiliation.

slamming the glass down, you looked up to find beau and lou staring back at you eagerly with wide eyes that had a "tell us everything" look in them. maybe it was their disarming stare, maybe it was the shot. either way, you felt inclined to speak to them, to let it out and put all your cards on the table.

"i just! i don't know what i'm doing wrong," you exclaim, the edges of your body and mind blurring from the alcohol.

"i feel like every time i see a pretty girl, i clam up. i can't ever get further than hi or they're already taken by someone hotter than me or they don't like butches or god forbid, they're straight!"

"well, do you like butches?" lou asked, leaning back onto the bar how beau had. a toothpick hung out of their mouth and you could tell both of them were amused by your woes.

the question caught you off guard. you'd never really... thought about it? yes.. you liked butches; both your friends and yourself fell into that category, but you hadn't ever been with one. you'd never looked at one.. like *that.* until tonight, really. you mulled over the words for a second, trying to parse if you actually were into butches, but you found it hard to focus with both of them looking back at you.

"do.. do i like butches?"

they both chuckled.

"yes," beau answered, "do you like butches?"

you figured since you'd already been this honest with them, might as well go all the way.

"maybe? ive never been with one or even flirted with one,"

beau and lou leaned in closer to you, frowning and pushing their bottom lips out comically.

"we aren't good enough to flirt with?" both immediately broke their gaze and burst into laughter, obviously getting off on making you feel even more nervous.

the words caught up to you and before you had a chance to stop them, they spilled out of your mouth.

"no, no! you're both very handsome, i've just. i've never met another butch who likes butches, it's new."

you saw lou waving the bartender down behind beau to order another round but your vision was filled with beau's charming smile as they leaned in closer to you, inches from your face.

"it's as old as time, hun."

a new feeling overcame you now, causing your stomach to churn with something you'd never felt. it was enchanting to speak with them. they both felt so calming, so real and kind. beau waited several moments before pulling away from your face, only interrupted by lou offering up the shots they'd just ordered.

"ooh, what'd i miss, babe?" lou leans in to kiss beau's jawbone, causing them to shut their eyes and grin drunkenly. a kiss? were you reading the situation correctly? you thought they'd been flirting with you at least a little bit. had you fucked this up too?

"ohhh, nothing. just seeing if jay here wanted to come home with us tonight, that's all."

the words were a shock to your system, you hadn't expected it. "with us." were they both flirting with you? did you care? you came out tonight hoping to get laid, hoping to please some pretty girl. how was this any different?

lou and beau stared at you expectantly, waiting for an answer with eager eyes.

stammering, you reply,

"i-i. yeah. yes, i want- let's do that."

the two of them smiled at you and rolled their eyes slightly. beau raised their shot glass and offered a toast. you slammed this shot easier than the first.

beau closed the tab as lou dragged you towards the door. as you strode to the door, lou's firm grip around your wrist, you notice the girl from before and shoot her a smirk. she doesn't look amused anymore.

lou pulls you towards their truck, pushing you against the bed of it before leaning into you. they smelled delicious; slightly sweet.

"man, you really are cute, can i kiss you?"

your mind is racing and you nod without even realizing. seconds later, warm lips part your own and a large hand cups the side of your face. lou kisses you hungrily, almost like they want to eat you up. you'd always led encounters before, kissing other girls like this but you let them take the lead, excited for the break. footsteps startle you back to reality and you look up to find beau striding across the gravel.

"i-i. holy shit, i'm so sorry. i didn't-"

"when's my turn?"

you find yourself frozen for a moment before beau walks up to you, pulling you by your belt loops into them. they lean down to you and you find that the kiss they offer is incredibly similar and totally different from the one lou had just given you. complementary of one another.

the sound of the truck starting causes beau to pull away again, looking to you and nodding back to the truck.

it's a one cab truck and lou is already in the driver seat, so you pile in together, your body squeezed between lou's and beau's.

the drive was uneventful, though beau and lou's hands wandered up your jeans gently, similar to how you would've slid your hand up a skirt. this flustered you. their movements were totally in sync and made your skin feel electrified, but not hot like that damn jacket had.

lou pulled up to a nice apartment and the two of them led you inside, giggling and looking at each other as they walked ahead of you. they pulled you into the home, taking your jacket and hanging it for you before leading you to a couch.

"are you thirsty? can we get you anything?"

you figured you could use some water and said as much, hoping your future self would thank you. your mind felt fuzzy from the shots you had taken and the kisses you had received and your heart raced with anticipation for what was to come.

"this is a really nice place.. do you both live here?" you ask naively.

lou giggled and smiled back at you, untying their boots as they did. you tried not to look down their shirt when they bent over but it was futile.

"yeah, we've been together for the last 10 years and have lived here for... oh i don't know 5-6 years now? babe?"

"probably 6," beau responded, setting a glass of water down in front of you before turning back towards the kitchen. fix

"wow, that's.. that's really beautiful, i'm happy for you.. i didn't realize how beautiful butch couples could be, i guess. no offense, oh my god that sounded awful, i'm- that's not what i-"

"calm down," lou sat down next to you, running their hand from your knee upwards,

"you're doing fine."

you felt yourself begin to loosen up, comforted by the reassuring presence of them both. beau returned from the kitchen and sat down on the other side of you, their warm body pressed against yours. they handed you a beautifully wrapped joint and asked you with their velvety voice if you smoked.

you hadn't smoked all week, this was so kind of them. lou offered a lighter from a nearby table and you lit it up, smoke filling the air around you and inside you quickly. you coughed more than you would have liked and were thankful for the water beau had just gotten you.

you figured you should take it easy, only taking a few hits from it while lou and beau finished it up and you all had small talk.

as the high crept in, you felt yourself more relaxed than you had been all night. you DID love butches and you felt safe here. you felt excited and invigorated about trying something new.. you wondered how it would feel to just.. let go. let them take complete control. you couldn't stop thinking about how both of their lips had felt on yours..

"can we take care of you?" lou's words interrupted your thoughts. looking up, you found the two of them looking back at you from either side, hands gently on your lap. with a nod you let out, "please," with far more desperation than you had meant to.

like a well trained animal, the two of them descended onto you in coordinated bliss. you felt your eyes roll back as beau's hands caressed your jawline and their lips traced your neck. lou was busy exploring you with their hands; squeezing your bicep, running their hands through your hair, unbuckling your belt. you'd always loved the sight of someone at your knees like that but you didn't know what it was like to actually receive from someone.

all three of you let out little moans and took turns kissing. at one point, both of them were pressed in close to you with your arms pinned beneath you. together, they kissed and licked your neck and jawbone at the same time and you could feel yourself melting into a puddle for them.

eventually, lou left the room to get something. beau pulled at your pants now, urging them off your legs and sliding them onto the floor. god, they were so hot looking up at you like that. you wanted one of them to touch you, to fuck you. you could feel how wet you were, something you rarely let yourself enjoy during other hookups. beau looked up at you with needy eyes, practically drooling over you. it was this moment you decided to fully give in. the bud and drinks from earlier had played their part and now it was time for you to experience ecstasy. as their fingers pulled at your boxers, it revealed your dripping bush and shaking legs. you smiled as you felt beau's mouth kissing and biting the inside of your thighs. their fingers brushed gently across your skin, barely touching where you so deeply needed it. just then, lou emerged.

your breath caught at the sight of them; leather buckled strap hanging from their hips, same white tank top from before, a ravenous look in their eye. you felt your cunt tense up and beau's lips smiling against your skin. in one heavenly motion, beau's lips parted your own, their tongue exploring parts of you that had never been explored before. tiny bits pulling at your skin made your head fall back and every time their tongue circled around your clit, you let out a pleading moan.

lou sat down next to you, pulling your open mouth into a sweet, warm kiss. you found it hard to focus as beau's tongue fucked you, licking around your folds and in and out of you while their soft moans vibrated your clit. still, you returned the favor and kissed lou back the best you could, pausing every few moments to moan into their mouth when you got overstimulated.

lou's kisses were getting nastier though. their mouth wrapped around your tongue and sucked it, they licked from your neckline all the way up to your ear. they were pulling your head back by your hair when you felt a soft pressure from below. instantly, you felt fireworks erupt inside of you as beau's fingers pushed inside of you.

holy fuck, that felt good. is this what the girls you fucked had felt every time? you pulled away from lou, too distracted now to kiss too. they didn't seem to mind though.. after a few minutes of slowly working their fingers around you and inside of you, you felt them slowly pulling out, wet stickiness clinging to them. you open your eyes and frown at the sight, desperately needing to be filled again.

"wait, please," you moan breathlessly.

a new sensation. hands around your waist.

lou was pulling you onto their lap, onto their strap. you'd never taken one before but now you felt like you might die if you didn't.

lou spread your legs apart from behind you, your back pressed completely against theirs. with perfect gentleness, 2 fingers pressed around your clit and circled it, spit and juices rolling over in their hands.

suddenly, beau was beneath you both, their mouth wrapped around the silicone expertly. you could feel them when they got close to you, their breath warming your cunt. every few seconds, their nose or cheek would graze your leg or your bush and you'd find your legs quaking and quivering.

lou's hands explored your body, pulling your shirt off. with a shock, you felt something hot splatter across your cunt and realized beau had spit in it. like clockwork, lou was using their big arms to lift you up, helping to position you exactly where you needed to be. you pulled your legs underneath you, excited to give this a shot.

beau was here to help. when you were just above the lou's strap, needing to be filled, beau's hand reached out to help. similarly to how you'd tease girls in the past, beau helped lou tease you. their fingers pressed the silicone tip into your folds, but not inside of you. you felt the cold material warm up as lou teased your clit and your hole with the strap. it was really, really hard to focus now, but you could see beau grinning while they watched you squirm.

finally, you couldn't take it anymore. you couldn't handle the teasing. moving your hips yourself, you placed yourself firmly on the strap and sunk down onto it, feeling every inch of it stretch you as you did. it felt so fucking good. what had you been missing this whole time? you could see beau's eyes light up as you slid onto it and lou's hands tightened around your hips as you did.

the two of them were enjoying this just as much as you were, evident by the growls and pants they both let out. you worked your hips over the strap, rolling them and thrusting where it felt best. you let lou completely slut you out; they raised you up, strong and sturdy, and fucked their hips into you, each pulse filling you with a throbbing need for more.

"you're doing so good, handsome."

lou's voice melted over you causing your muscles to scream. you're so preoccupied that you didn't even notice beau leave the room.

they returned wearing their own strap, similar in style to lou's, but this one was bigger, it seemed. your eyes lit up at the sight, ready to climb onto it. lou helped you up, ready to give beau a turn with you.

flipping you onto your stomach, beau pushed their cock in from behind, squeezing your hips and thighs as they did. it was huge, filling you up exactly how you wanted. unknowingly, you began to shake your ass eager to get deeper and deeper onto their shaft. it was more tiring than you had expected, your legs growing weaker from holding yourself up. when this happened, beau firmly gripped your waist and pulled you into them, fucking you raw like a toy. when you were screaming and shaking, legs unable to keep you steady, beau gave you the hardest pounds you had felt all night and dropped you onto the couch face first, all used up.

lou swept in, helping you up and eventually carrying you to their room. they laid you down and kissed your face before getting up to grab you water. beau came in shortly after while you lay there a wet, shaking mess.

"how are you holding up, dear?"

their voice could make you come again.

"i- thank you. holy fuck," you collapsed into their lap as they sat on the bed next to you. soft hands caressed your hair and you were knocked out before lou even made it back with water.

the next morning, you woke to the smell of a delicious breakfast. there were clothes on the bed for you, yours nowhere to be seen. they fit you perfectly. there was a brand new toothbrush waiting in the bathroom for you and after you gathered yourself, you emerged to find lou and beau both grinning at you over freshly made coffee.

you spent the morning with them, longer than you would have with a precious hookup. they fed you a delicious breakfast and gave you your clothes back, washed and folded. when you were finally ready to leave, you turned to change back into your clothes.

"why don't you keep them, hmm?" beau asked.

"what? i don't need-" you interjected, not wanting to take their things.

"but then," lou continued, "you can bring them back.. and we could see you again."

they winked, looking at you the same way they had last night when they had been deep, deep inside you.

"i- okay, yeah. yeah. i'll see you both again," you replied, already thinking of how badly you wanted to fuck them again.

they called you an uber back to the bar where you picked up your car and drove home in a stunned silence. every bump in the road made you grind your hips or clench your cunt.. when you got home, you found a note in your clothes with both their numbers and within a week, you were back in their arms; their thick cocks in either side of you.

[arisewanekosuki]

travelers helper AU where is the reason why S/O is oblivious to all the men liking her is because every single time she showed an interested in a hot guy. They turned out to be gay, so she’s convinced herself that all of the men are gay and possibly even dating each other. (Couples she thinks are real are Alhaitham x Kaveh Cyno x Tinari Zongli x Childe Kaeya x Venti Nuvilet x woirthslie ) and I watched their reactions to finding out that she thinks they’re all gay

Ok this idea is funny xD But to anyone who like those ships, pls don't take it as some kind of hate towards those ships or something. --------- The guys are devastated after learning you think that they are into... each other. All of them wondering where did they make a mistake? Kaveh found it ridiculous, him and Alhaitham?! He wondered if you think so because they live in the same house? But there are many people who are friends and share homes… You even invite all your friends to live in your Teapot!! He really couldn't understand from where this idea came from… Is it because they bicker so much? But it didn't make sense to him!! Kaveh was anxious… do you not see him as a man or something? He is overthinking this whole thing. At this point he is debating whenever to show you his plans of the house he wants to make for you both in future.

Alhaitham was more clam about it, analyzing from where this idea may come. It's not like he and Kaveh were affectionate to each other and he couldn't recal any moment that could make you think like that about them. He will state that, no, he is not interested in Kaveh in such way (or anyone else, both guys and girls, that are not you) And yet you still say "That's okay! I won't judge! I will support whoever you love!" At this point Alhaitham may confess his feeling to you but the problem is that there is always someone by your side…if not Aether then other guys. And the worst thing is Kaveh always appears too, making the misunderstanding even worse.

Cyno at first thought this is some kind of joke. But after seeing that you're not joking he was bewildered. Why would you think so? "You two sometimes look like parents of Collei" Parents? But when they were in Mondstadt he was sure you heard how he and Tighnari bickered who would be the 'older brother'… right? Cyno was silent. Trying to come up with something that will make you believe him that he is interested in you. Because whenever he would say that, you would be "ah Cyno! Please don't joke like that!" he would never joke about things like this... The General Mahamatra for now tries to avoid talking to Tighnari when you are close…

Tighnari only furrowed his brows. Him and Cyno? Big nope!! Just imagining that he would hear more jokes from Cyno if they were together already gives him a headache. The Forest Ranger was getting more and more irritated that you for some reason don't want to accept when he says that there is nothing between him and Cyno. So he started to approach this in different way. Thankfully Cyno already was avoiding him when you are close. So he can now start to be even bolder with his affections towards you. If you still refuse to believe that he is attracted to you, then you may expect to hear a confession soon.

Zhongli asked you if you can repeat yourself. Oh? Him and Childe together? In romantic relationship? Zhongli was thinking where this came from…Is it because he often uses Childe's mora to buy things?But that was only that… and that Childe often bothers him so they could spar. Ah. Maybe this was the reason, maybe you think that 'sparings' are something different. Humans are truly interesting. He will ask you why you think so, patiently listening to your explanation. He is amused by this.

Childe laughed, but after seeing you are not laughing he stopped and said "Wait...are you serious?" He will say that there is nothing between them, even says that he prefers girls (to hint that he likes you) but you responded with "It's okay! You don't have to hide it! I accept you and I'm sure your family will accept this as well!" You're cute…. but why don't you want to believe him?! Should he shower you with more gifts? It would be better to invite you for a date but with Aether being around it's not that easy….

Kaeya was amused, but he didn't expect that you will think that Venti is his boyfriend. One part of him wanted to joke about it but other part was worried that you will take it too seriously and he will lose his chances with you. The cavalry captain doesn't worry about it too much. He will simply tell you that you're wrong and he will continue showering you with affections.

Venti was a bit hurt by this. Were his love songs and poems dedicated to you not enough? Or maybe this is your way to tell him that you're not interested in him? He can't really understand this… he never was affectionate to anyone else like he is towards you. But after learning he is not the only one that you think is into guys, he felt relieved. At least you didn't think that he and that block head are into each other.

Neuvillette was confused by this. There are already many things that he can't understand about humans. But he was sure that you will realize that he is trying to court you… not the Duke of the Fortress of Meropide… After that for some days it was raining in Fontaine. He decided to tell Furina about it, hoping for some advice in this situation. But she only started to laugh. After she calmed down she promised to help him to clear this misunderstanding.

Wriothesley already knew how oblivious you are but he never expected that you might be this oblivious. He will say that there is nothing like this between him and the Iudex and if you still insist about that then well…if there will be a chance for you two to be alone you can expect him to kabedon you, making you look into his eyes and he won't let you go till you stop thinking that he is interested in anyone that is not you.

[biteyoubiteme]

7 minutes

soobin x fem!reader x beomgyu 

synopsis: you play seven minutes in heaven with your boyfriend and his roommate beomgyu. 

warnings: 🔞!!! boyfriend!soobin, shy!beomgyu, reader called girlfriend, mentions of drinking, masterbation (m!rec), slight fingering, nipple play, use of teeth, boobplay obvi, cuckolding ?, prob for got some sorry 

wc: 1.7k

an: anon ask inspired by @miupow s post! not my best work sorry anon ;-; i tried <33 feedback appreciated! [m.list]

“Isn't this game for middle schoolers?” 

“elementary I think,” you add while taking a sip of your drink. 

Someone had proposed to play spin the bottle. Most agreed it was too lame before adding that whoever it landed on would have to spend seven minutes in heaven in the upstairs bathroom. Two party games you didn't expect to see on a college campus but it was the end of the semester and people didn't care what they were doing as long as it involved drinking and some kind of touching. But it would pass the time before you got home where there would be definite touching with the way your boyfriend was watching you. 

When it reached this time of the night you knew you were minutes away from being taken away from the group. soobin was growing quiet as the night went on, gazes lasting longer and longer on your chest, your thighs, your lips. He never wanted to be rude to the people who invited the two of you, needing to stay at least an hour before calling a cab and hauling you to his bed. 

For now, soobin kept you pressed to his side on the couch, the coffee table in front of you being cleared away for the game. “okay who's first?” Yeonjun asks laying his empty bottle down in the center, no one moves to go so Yeonjun claps Beomgyu on the shoulder, “You're up,” 

“best for last, not first,” Gyu raises his hands shrugging but Yeonjun only shoves his shoulder, “Spin the bottle already,” 

You're not paying them much attention because soobins tracing lines up and down your bare thigh stopping right at the hem of your skirt before going back down to your knee. His arm slung around your waist, leaning in to whisper, “Do you wanna get-“ 

“oooo,” the crowd giggles around the two of you cutting soobin off. Both of you look down at the table and the glass pointing right at you. 

“no no no,” soobin shakes his head waving a hand in front of him, “you're not locking yourself in the bathroom with my girlfriend,” 

“scared he’ll steal her?” tae jokes pushing an elbow into Beomgyus side who is looking anywhere but at you. 

It was only a week since Beomgyu came home earlier and heard soobin and you in the other room. A week since he's started to fantasize about being the one to make you moan that loud. Even that day he told himself he would only think about you like that once, only one time would he touch himself with that image in his head. It wasn't hard to cum as fast as he did when he had the soundtrack of you two playing through those thin walls. But for a week you came over every night and even if you and soobin weren't having sex just the sight of you walking through the doorway made him hard. Gyu avoided you like the plague and now the stupid bottle was a blinding arrow pointed right at you dressed in that tight tank top, braless with your nipples peeking through the thin fabric. He could feel his face heating, tried to elbow Taehyun right back to silence the teasing. 

You could tell Beomgyu was a bit embarrassed, the group now going back and forth about how it's the rule of the game, couple or not. You took a final sip of your drink passing the bottle to soobin before leaning in and pressing a kiss to his cheek, “It's only seven minutes, you trust me don't you?” 

soobin did trust you, You've never given him a reason not to but Beomgyu wasn't exactly subtle these last few days. Maybe you haven't noticed but soobin had been tuned into the reactions you have been getting from gyu, the way he clammed up when you were around, rushing to his room as soon as you walked in, and the whimpers through the wall mixed with your name. It had only been the one time he had heard; the dorms were not exactly as private as they wanted them to be. And he trusted Beomgyu, only this was an opening he didn't want to toy with. 

at least not until you muttered, “You can listen at the door if you want,” 

soobin has never thought about you with someone else; the idea didn't seem appealing in the slightest, not with one of his friends, not with anyone. Having the roles reversed with him on the other side of the wall made him want you even more and made him realize partially what gyu was feeling. 

When the three of you are on the staircase soobin is leading the way, beomgyu following behind you trying his hardest not to look up your skirt. “we don’t have to do this, it's a stupid game,” but soobins pushes the door open to the upstairs bathroom tugging you in after him. 

beomgyu is standing in the doorway like a deer in headlights, frozen watching as soobin pulls your back to his front, your startled laugh breaking the tension. “come on gyu it’s only seven minutes,” 

“you don't have to if you don't want to,” you say but soobin palms your left boob over your tank top, squeezing enough to make you gasp. 

“yeah if you don't want to, don't come in,'' Soobins resting his cheek against your ear, smirking at gyu like it's a challenge rather than an offer. beomgyu wasn't going to turn away as much as he knew this was not really what he signed up for when he spun that bottle. 

The bathroom wasn't too big but had enough space for the three of you to fit, soobin and you facing the mirror with gyu sitting behind you two on the edge of the bathtub. He had locked the door behind him, your eyes following the way he moved, his cheeks flushed, hands balled in fists on his lap. he was watching the way soobins fingers moved, one hand sliding up the front of your tank top pushing the fabric up your stomach, the other massaging your breast making the outline of your nipples so visible gyu could imagine what they felt like under his fingertips. 

soobin looked at beomgyu through the mirror before asking, “Have you ever thought about my girlfriend when you touched yourself?” 

Gyu gave a surprised cough before clearing his throat, “Um,” but he was distracted as your hand reached up to wrap around soobins wrist, your soft whine mixed with the word, “harder,” soobin kissed your temple indulging in your request. Your head rolling back on his shoulder, heavy-lidded eyes watching gyu. 

“answer the question,” soobin pressed, tugging down one of the straps of your tank, watching gyus throat bob. “we don't have all day, you’re wasting your seven minutes,” 

“yes,” the word comes as fast as the slamming of a door, shutting the conversation of your sanity. You didn't care what soobin had thought up before climbing these stairs, you would play any game set before you. 

beomgyu was painfully hard in his jeans not helped by the fact that soobin was now pushing down your tank top, your boobs spilling out before them. Every fantasy didn't do you justice now, the rise and fall of your chest drawing him in, the path of soobins hands knowing where gyu wanted them to be. “do you want him to just watch or should I be nice and share you?” 

you were rubbing your thighs together at the suggestion, soobin pinches your nipple hard for a response, “Share, please,” 

soobin would give you anything if you asked, this was no different. “gyu?” 

beomgyu didn't need to be asked twice. 

soobin lifted you onto the counter kissing down your throat before dragging his tongue down between the valley of your breast nipping at your skin, you twisted your fingers into his hair watching over his head as gyu stood up. You lifted your free hand out for him and he took it in his. You guided him to your free tit letting him cup your warm skin. He was kneading softly, testing the waters. 

Circling your nipple with his thumb he leaned down to let his lips ghost over your sensitive nub. Your fingers in his hair are enough to push him over the edge and finally taste you. Your back arching into their mouths as they ravaged your skin, sucking marks along any stretch of space they could get. beomgyu was rubbing his bulge against your leg, teeth tugging at you before kissing away any pain, your moans filling the room along with their groans. 

soobin is the one to fumble at his belt first, not able to keep himself together, knowing the second he started to tug on himself while sucking on you he would cum instantly. Gyu was quick to follow, shoving his hand down his pants. He was already leaking making it easier to pick up the pace. They were insatiable when it came to your boobs, soobins heavy gaze on you as he swirls his tongue over your nipple, free hand reaching below your skirt to press to your clit. gyu groaning around a mouthful stopping his hand after every stroke on his swollen cock, if he goes any faster he won't be able to keep himself upright. 

But it doesn't take much for the three of you to reach your climax, soobins long fingers working over your sopping cunt, the stimulation from your nipples sending sparks down between your legs. both of your thighs are covered in their hot cum, beomgyus face pressed into your chest as he tries to catch his breath, soobin brushing the hair back to kiss your flushed cheek. “look at how pretty we decorated you,” 

you untangle your hands from their hair looking down at your chest now adorned in an array of hickeys, your tank not enough to cover the full extent of the darkening red spots. gyu is shyly looking away from you, thumb brushing at the droplets of cum he left, squeezing your thigh. “definitely better than anything I imagined,” 

“let's clean you up and take you home, I'm sure beomgyu wouldn't mind joining us again. I can show him how good these feel,” soobin says taking your boobs in both hands and pressing them together, “wrapped around his cock,”

[yuri-is-online]

Hi hi so can we have an expansion of middle school Floyd completely being his unfiltered self around yuu (maybe even octotrio going like "Oh please don't believe that merculture is like this" because middle school Floyd is embarrassing them in front of their crush) PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE

Hmmm

So Floyd says morays are cowards right, but my experiences with little kids tell me that they don't always have the best sense of self-preservation. I picture little Floyd as one of those kids on crack. He thinks this human is cute! Especially because they don't have the sense to be afraid of him at all and are calling him cute, that's real funny. What if he just takes a big chomp outta ya, will you still think he's cute? As for the embarrassment, well...

Azul

It comes from how blunt little Floyd is.

He's got even less patience for Azul's plans than big Floyd does, and the complete inability to see the value of waiting for the pay off. He's actively getting angry at him and throwing temper tantrums every time Azul tries to smooth things over with Yuu.

"No you can't get the ability to breathe underwater from kissing a mermaid Floyd is making that up. And no not all merfolk are obsessed with legs that's just a him thing-"

"Nah Azul really likes your legs and pretty much everything you do with them!" Little Floyd is loud enough that other people than just you are looking at him in confusion (Azul is convinced it is overwhelming judgment) because he's choking on a mixture of spit and air because how did he pick up on that already?!? Azul thinks he's so subtle when he admires you, he's got to be so you don't think he's weird.

He can't wait for this to be over, he can handle being made fun of by the twins now since they've got a good rapport and he can give as good as he gets but little Floyd is like a sea otter with a clam, he just won't let this go because he thinks octopus courtship is boring and he's not above saying that. Outloud. In front of you.

Jade

It's from how willing he is to throw Jade under the bus.

Floyd knows Jade pretty well, even if it's a younger version of him so he knows just how down bad stupid Jade is within 15 seconds and he is determined to "help."

Said help is mostly just humming a very specific song while swimming around you in circles and doing little tricks to "set the mood." Or asking you what you think about Jade when he thinks he's out of earshot, something he's never once been since little Floyd got summoned.

He thought this would be fun, Floyd is always so delightfully unpredictable and now there's two of him! But instead of bothering Azul he's decided to torture Jade and ruin his carefully cultivated image instead. He sort of gets why Azul was so determined to get rid of all his childhood photos now, you're never going to look at him the same after this.

When his efforts don't work because Jade is too much of a coward little Floyd starts just telling you a bunch of stuff they got up to as kids in an effort to embarras him. It clearly works from how quick Jade is to shove him to the side but you're polite enough to keep the laughter to a minimum. For the most part

Floyd

It comes from how much of a coward he is.

Floyd is waiting for the right time to speak with you, when he's extra sure that you feel the same as he does. When he knows you'll accept everything he wants to give you and more.

But no. Little him has to say everything that comes into his mind. "Are your legs soft? Why are you leaking seawater? Do all humans really only have ten toes and can I count them-"

If you find this funny, I think it might depress him somewhat. He wants you to see all the ways he's smart and not brush him off as an unserious joke. If you think it's cute, well that's a mix of emotions. He doesn't want you to see him as cute now, but it's ok if you find morays cute, and even nicer if you find baby morays cute. That thought alone perks him up.

Until little Floyd starts telling Yuu he thinks they're cute. Then he gets possessive and starts competing with himself like a looser. Probably by picking Yuu up and carrying them away since his legs are longer and he can get away faster.

[scribesynnox]

Bored

Kef's post here, specifically the art at the end, is haunting me. It is fucking with me bad. I wouldn't wish boredom and lack of mental stimulus on my worst enemies, and here Jazz is. Stuck and trapped.

Aimless.

So I decided to write a little something because OOF. Do you know what it's like to be bored? Constantly? Because I do and it SUCKS.

For @keferon's apocalyptic ponyo au.

There’s nothing to do.

This isn’t anything unusual. Jazz regularly finds himself bored out of his mind every day. He’s exhausted every avenue of entertainment he can and then some. He already knows this human dialect, English, so he can’t entertain himself trying to puzzle out words and letters. The people at this aquarium haven’t given him any toys to mess around with either. It’s always a toss up whether the aquariums he ends up at give him toys or not. He prefers it when they do. It’s demeaning sure, but what isn’t in his situation? At least with a beach ball, he could do SOMETHING. It’s night and usually, Jazz would escape his tank by now to explore the building, but the aquarium was setting up some new policy, something about frequent tank escapes and trying to prevent them. It’s not from Jazz’s end, he’s too good at this by now to get caught, but the octopi weren’t exactly being subtle when they went to throw rotten clams at their caretakers. What this means for Jazz though, is that the aquarium is busy tonight, and there’s too many humans around for Jazz to risk it.

What it means is that there is nothing to do, and Jazz is bored.

Bored bored bored, he is so BORED, there is nothing to DO!!

He bursts into an agitated swim, circling circling and circling, trying to burn off the restless energy, or maybe to get dizzy just to feel something, anything, but he’s done this too many times, it’ll take more than that to get him dizzy. The apathy and numbed anger quickly comes back, stealing his energy and hollowing him out. He hangs in the water, bored.

There is nothing to do.

More notes on being Bored!:

when you spend all day every day almost always always always BORED, you start creating your own entertainment

Jazz zoning out a LOT because there just simply isn't anything for him to do. Sure there's the training and there's the performances and the checkups and the people watching, but they can only take away the boredom for so long.

Oh! By the way, off tangent, but I finally thought up of a reason for why Jazz hasn't tried talking to the humans in an attempt to get them to realize that he's sentient and that he has a home and he wants to be free. Or to get them to make his tank more, you know, hospitable. Or at the very least not claw at the walls inducing.

Uh, simple reason: he physically can't. Like, merfolk just Do Not have the vocal cords to pronounce human speech. Humans don't have the vocal cords to copy a lot of noises! We can do a lot, sure, but we can't do everything! I say it's the same for merfolk! They may look like humans, but humans look a lot like mers too, and so I say: while both of them can learn the other's language, they're gonna have a difficult time actually speaking it.

so like, Jazz DOES try to talk to the humans, tries to get them to realize that he's a person and he just wants to go home, please please PLEASE-!

but he is clumsy with human speech and they just think he's like a clever parrot. He has intelligence, sure, but that's it. They think his cries are because he misses his home and his pod, sure, but they also think he's better off in captivity since he is so small and alone. They know better. Poor little orca, so scared and hurt. But they know better. It's for his own good. It's okay because it's for his own good.

ANYWAYS I'm digressing, back to boredom notes.

Jazz loses time a lot. There's just.. so little for him to do. And so little reason to do it. He tries to keep himself busy but sometimes he's just.. tired.

He swims because he's bored of staying still, and then he stays still because he's bored of swimming.

haha, wait, oof, ya boi probably has depression honestly.

He probably gets moments of mania too. You know, ACTUALLY clawing at the walls, throwing himself against the tank because he hates hates HATES how small and cramped it is! How it's only big enough for him to swim in small circles! HE HATES IT

The buzzing in his skin, the restlessness, the need for something, ANYTHING, to make him think, to make him FEEL. He’s going to claw at the walls, this is torture.

The reason why Jazz knows so many human languages isn't just because he was passed around a lot and was exposed to them, it's because he was actively trying to learn them. At first, it was to try and tell someone that he just wants to go home, but when it became clear it wouldn't work, he still kept learning anyways because that way he could overhear conversations, read information from maps and leftover textbooks/papers, and try to escape on his own. Can't escape from the aquarium if he just gets immediately lost once he's outside. (don't think about how he wouldn't be able to escape even if he can read and listen. That path leads to numbness and Jazz has had enough numbness, he needs to focus.)

There's also just.. nothing else for him to do. And if he wants to stave off the boredom and Empty Hollow Fog, then he has to do something.

Honestly, when Jazz and Prowl escape, Jazz is going to have one HELL of an adjustment period outside of just learning mer culture and the ocean world. Going from being bored every day to NEW EXCITING DIFFERENT CHANGES is going to be exhausting. Like, yes, it's all very new and very exciting, and Jazz is going to be a little too preoccupied with staying alive and being terrified to really feel the crash, but man oh man, when there is a lull in all of this? This mer going to crash a LOT.

He's going to have to take a lot of breaks, not just because his tail is weak and undeveloped, but also because he's never had So Much happening All The Time before. It's a lot to adjust to!

(Not that Jazz will let himself have those breaks because uh oh, he's kinda lowkey ABSOLUTELY TERRIFIED that Prowl will leave him behind if he can't keep up and Jazz is tired, but he can not go back to being alone.)

Jazz has so many made up games and tricks and stories and music and and and in his head. Because, and I can't stress this enough, there is nothing else for him to do! And when there is nothing for you to do, you start making shit up because the only other alternative is to zone out and lose time, or hit something. And Jazz gets bored of zoning out too, and the last time he hit something, they restrained him and sedated him, so uh. No. No more of that.

Jazz spent a lot of time tinkering with the locks on his tank and practicing moving himself on dry land. He's gotten good at escaping, and very good at doing neat tricks, like doing pull ups to haul himself up the stairs by using their railings, or waddling over the itchy carpet by lifting his tail in the air and keeping it there, or doing a semi cartwheel where he flips himself head over tails by using his tail to help himself roll over (okay that last one is just for fun but come on, he's allowed to have fun.)

Sometimes, when he gets too good at sneaking around, sneaks around while giving himself a handicap just to give himself a challenge. Is it a good idea? Probably not. But he's so bored.

He's gotten some close calls, but he is now very good at sneaking around.

Jazz watches people, just like they watch him, and makes up stories for them. The lady with the screaming toddler is actually secretly a spy, and the child is their cover story! But the spy lady is regretting everything in her life now. She can hack into any computer ever, but she can not hack a child and tell them to behave. The man lingering by the penguins is staring at them because he's thinking about a lover who was lost at sea! The kid popping bubblegum in the corner has parents who are going through a very messy and very dramatic divorce, and they came to the aquarium to escape the fighting. The lady in the giant hat is having a secret affair!

He is so bored.

Jazz also observes, and notices people. Notices their behavior, their motives, their patterns. The caretaker with the Tuesday shift get nervous with loud sudden movements, so Jazz is careful to be small and gentle when it's his turn to feed him. Because if he is small and gentle, then the Tuesday Caretaker will give him a small smile back and sometimes, he'll spend a little extra time talking to him while feeding him, telling him about his classes or about whatever game he's playing for the week. The teenager regular, who must be one of the staff's kids to be able to come so often, loves it when he puts on a little show, playing up his cuteness, and acting playful. She stays longer when he does so, and that means that she stays long enough to meet with one of the cleaning staff members that she's friends with. THIS leads to them greeting each other, and the janitor leaving his cleaning cart unattended, and if Jazz is verrrrry careful, he can snatch one of the chemicals from the cart before the janitor notices. The night guard on Fridays is lazy and always leaves his shift a little early than he should, which means Jazz has less time to get back to his tank on those days.

Jazz notices it all.

There's little else he can do BUT observe.

Jazz probably fidgets and stims a lot too. Idle tapping of his fingers, splashing his tail into the water absentmindedly, humming notes to made up music, or snatches of songs he's memorized, making nonsense noises to himself, tearing up bits of his environment, like peeling paint or crumbling plastic rock.

He tries to stave off the Empty and the Fog, he DOES, but it doesn't always work. Some days, the Fog wins and he just.. floats. Listlessly. Bored. He's so sick of it all, and he's so tired.

He's heard about depression from the college interns and he's pretty sure that's what he has. Lack of stimulation, isolated, and bored bored BORED. Plus, there's that small deal with him being FUCKING TRAPPED AND HELPLESS TO THE WHIMS OF A PEOPLE WHO DON'T SEE HIM AS A PERSON. So you know. He's probably depressed. The Empty is probably the depression. Yippee.

He just wants to go home.

please.

[shuenkio]

Pretty please | Yjw. 🐇

Paring: Jungwon x m!reader : Genre: Fluffy

Synopsis: He was desperate to have you when he heard a conversation you'd never date him.

Cw: Cheesy line attack (12am cringe thought expect less y'all)

Non proof read | Eng is not my 1st lang

This is a work of fanfiction, do not throw unnecessary tantrums on this nsfw/sfw blog. ©Shuenkio

Crd dividers (Anitalenia) and the owner of pics

A&N: Head empty once filled when I was listening to ' pretty please ' such a mood what if he'd do these— (jkd au) you called these drabble right? Not sure... [This was so cringe at some point naurrr]

Imagine living your normal life peacefully until a cute guy comes crushing in. His name really did explain his own character. Like garden sheep? Pretty new and adorable.

But that was your first impression of him on the day you first met him in front of the school office. His face is round like a dumpling, his sharp eye liner is tight up above the end corner like a cat's eyes, and his pupils are as cute as boba. Jungwon is the most bubbly, lovely little guy ever. And it's actually what you were thinking back then.

Present time, He was a total opposite. Jungwon became taller, had buff body proportions, and last but not least, his maturity turned manly. Everyone would not dare approach him at school since his look could kill well for you; this was an exception. He still acts silly, like a ball of sunshine, just to get your eyes only. Who knows, maybe both of you are friends? Or did Jungwon think the other way?

Lately, the last few weeks after the exam, he started to act strange. He has a lot of physical touch, craves attention, is clingy like a koala, and would find any way to be with you, holding you in his grips. Growing suspicious and with a weird expression on his face, you wanted to ask him why, but before that could happen, he was already there.

During the times you talk to your friend, chitchatting about your crush, Jungwon happens to walk by and hears you saying—

"What? No, Jungwon was my boyfriend. Why would you think like that? There's no dating; don't get the wrong  idea." Denying the statement. Those sentences making Jungwon low-key sad about the fact he's giving all his signals to you just vanished. Msybey, it was not there; you're too oblivious to even bother to ensure him, so after school, Jungwon asked you to meet him somewhere you both usually go.

There he goes again—too strange, too weird—but you keep unziping until you get your answer.

When you arrived at the spot, you heard a sob while he was back facing you. Did you just hear him cry? Rare.

Heart almost dropped to the floor, turning him around as his face filled with broken pieces, red eyes, dry tears, and a puffing face. There's no way you actually witness your boyfriend crying; he's too cute to be in tears.

"What's wrong? Won-ie," asks him gently, trying to maintain the atmosphere as clear as clam ever. Hearing you ask only to fuel it even more, by seeing your face, he's already planned the future with you. He wants you; he likes you, but would you return his feelings? That day he eavesdropped, which is already enough, yet he can't accept it; he needs to do something.

"M/N, I have never cried before, but—can I ask something crazy?" Mumble in a low tone; try not to hic from streaming tears. Slowly lock his contact on yours, waiting for your next answer.

Nod and respond with action instead of words. Jungwon, then take a deep breath before kneeling on both knees, holding on to your hands.

Chin up, staring at your speechless reaction, as he processes to utter:

"Please take me; please love me, m/n. I had never done such cringe-worthy, cheesy things like these before, yet you made me. It's hard every day to not love someone like you. You're something I need every day, my very best friend, that I don't consider one but more than that!

Pretty please, I'll let you ruin my heart even if you have to just let me love you." Desperately, a lion could turn into a cat if it needed to; for what they love, unexpected things could happen. Jungwon is actually begging for you to let you hurt him just for him to love you?

"Jungwon—don't get me wrong, i uh ashh, you probably heard my conversation with my friends...

나도 좋아해"

🗣️Reblog and like is much appreciated ♥

🗣️ Please mind my English! ><

Ps: COPY AND PASTE KOREAN SENTENCE FOR BETTER EXPERIENCE 😜

[theconstantsidekick]

Avengers: Age Of Ultron ft. Static (2) | s.r

Pairings: Steve Rogers x Stark!Reader, Tony Stark x Stark!Reader (siblings)

Genre: Fluff with hidden angst.

Summary: So apparently everyone and their mother knows that Steve doesn't want to move in with Y/n. She now very desperately needs him to tell her why?

(These scenes incorporate y/n, yet to be codenamed—Static, into the pre-existing story as a character without making drastic changes to the plot or mythos. All the major plot points from the MCU remain in place with the addition of the reader as Static, who is not only a Stark but also enhanced. Whatever events from the canon aren’t mentioned, take place without much change.)

Warnings: Drinking, lot of cursing, mentions of death of parents, past traumas, feelings.

a/n: am I back? maybe. who knows? don't look a gift horse in the mouth, okay? enjoy it while it lasts.

Avengers : Age of Ultron ft. Static (1) | Avengers: Age of Ultron ft. Static (3) | Series Masterlist | The Avengers (ft. Static) | Captain America: The Winter Soldier (ft. Static) | Static Verse Masterlist

“Hey Y/n!” Bruce waves at her over the small scattered crowd. He seems so excited to see her as if they haven’t seen each other in ages. Like they didn’t just come back from a mission they worked on, together. As if they don’t meet every other Tuesday to drink overpriced whiskey and bitch about Tony. Like they don’t have each other on speed dial.

She smiles watching him make his way over to her through the crowd, “Hiya Bruce.”

“Ah shit,” he curses under his breath as his drink sloshes, dripping a little onto his fingers. God Banner, she thinks. Hope the green guy’s not this clumsy. Licking his fingers clean, he looks up at her with a kind smile. “How—how’s it going?”

She thinks for a second or so, “Going as well as things can go once you discover the organization you were working for was secretly infiltrated by Nazis,” she takes a sip of her drink.

“Messy?”

She smiles over the rim of her glass of whiskey before agreeing, “Messy.”

Bruce nods, shifting like he’s trying to settle something in his head. “Yeah, yeah. That makes sense.” He looks around, eyes darting—nervous. Why would he be nervous? “What about—how’s the weather been lately?”

Y/n squints. “In Manhattan? You mean two blocks from where you live?”

The look on the man’s face is proof enough that he realizes he’s been caught.

“I’ve seen you butt naked like 17 times now—”

"That’s on Tony!" Bruce defends immediately. "He kept pretending the stretchable shorts were taking too long!"

She waves him off. "My point is, the time for small talk is far behind us, I can’t even see it in the rear view mirror. Can you just spit it out?”

That seems to shut Bruce up. He clams up. Scratches the back of his head.

She waits.

Until she can’t anymore. “Spit it out, Banner. Ideally before you give yourself a hernia.”

Bruce hesitates for a second before taking a step closer. He looks around in short quick motions, before he leans in and speaks just above a whisper, “I—I heard about the Steve situation…” He shrugs, she stiffens. “I just wanted to see how you were doing.”

She knew it was coming.It’s been coming at her all fucking night. First Tony and Nat, then Rhodey, Hill and Sam, then Thor, of all people—and now Bruce too? She’s beyond pissed off. "What Steve situation?" she asks, voice deceptively light.

His brows knit together as he straightens, gathering courage “The one whe—where he doesn’t wanna move in with you.” The statement comes out more as a question than an answer.

And just like that, Y/n is going to kill someone. 

“Who the fuck told you that?” She damn near shouts.

Bruce instantly takes a step back. “No one.”

“Banner,” she takes a step forward. “Who the fuck told you that?”

Another step back. “No one.”

A step forward. “Banner.”

The way Bruce physically shrinks, you’d forget he moonlights as the big green raging beast.

“Will you kill the person who told me?” He asks. She knows him well enough by now to know that Bruce is weighing the danger to himself versus whoever the other person is. He’s trying to find the most peaceful way out of the situation.

“Depends on the person,” she answers diplomatically.

Bruce sighs, resigned. “Then you’ll definitely kill him.”

She takes another step forward. Her movements are too quick for Bruce to react to them, outside of his eyes widening at the realization that she’s grabbing the collar of his shirt.

“Spill it. Banner.”

Giving the answer is the only way out of this now. So it falls easily from his lips.

“Steve.”

Alright then. 

Y/n is going to kill Steve Rogers.

She drops Bruce’s collar, fixes his shirt in efficient motions—because she’s not a fucking heathen.

“Thanks, Bruce.” She pecks his cheek before marching straight for the damn Golden Boy.

Steve’s not hard to spot. Not really. Not ever.

Steve Rogers is always the easiest for her to find. While her brother is prone to be found in hidden, forbidden corners, her boyfriend is the exact opposite. Where Tony demands your attention, Steve somehow just attracts it. His presence is strong and constant, and you can feel it even when you don’t see it. Sometimes Y/n thinks she can feel it from across the room on her fingertips. It always feels tangible.

It must have something to do with being the most impressive person in most rooms, especially during the war, she presumes. Back then when super people were few and far between. There was just him. The only successful super soldier. He must have walked into rooms, and respect, attention and curiosity must have followed. She is aware of the fact that Steve, the real one, the one before Captain America, wasn’t used to all the attention. Wasn’t even used to people looking his way. He’d told her on one of their countless shared sleepless nights that he’d never gotten used to the feeling of people making the way for him. He’d never gotten used to leading the way for people either but that somewhat came easier to him than the understanding that his voice carried weight. His opinions held value. His words being heard was so new to the boy from Brooklyn, he’d told her he believed he was never going to get used to it. 

But Y/n didn’t believe him. Not that she thought he was lying. 

No, not lying. She thinks he just hasn’t taken account of how much he’s changed since then. 

Or maybe, she just views him differently because well… You know how things are when you’re in lov—attracted to someone. 

You scan the room for their face the moment you walk in. No matter who you’re talking to, your focus snaps back like a cosmic magnet. When you crack a joke, your first thought is—did they laugh? Because, fuck the rest of the universe, that’s all that matters. Even when they’re across the room, lost in their own chatter, your body just knows where they are, like an invisible tether. And when they’re not even glancing your way—damn, especially then—you’re watching. Because you’re hopelessly, ridiculously, utterly hooked.

Basically what she means is that, Y/n is always watching Steve. 

He seems like he’s gotten more than comfortable making his presence known.

She can see it now as she walks over to Steve as he’s talking to Hill and Rhodey. He’s smiling, the smile he smiles when he’s trying to charm the people around him. It’s different from the one she gets, that one’s shy and reserved. This one—it’s all bright and shiny, just like the Golden boy himself.

“Hey, handsome,” she calls out, sweeter than honey.

Steve’s smile switches instantly at the sound of her voice. He looks at her and she can see his eyes soften. “Hey there, doll.”

“Why the fuck are you going around telling people you don’t wanna fucking move in with me?” 

His smile drops instantly. 

Rhodey and Hill follow suit.

“Let’s move this somewhere private—It seems like my girl’s going to kill me,” Steve offers as an explanation before he gently grabs her hand and begins moving towards the balcony. She follows without any effort from his part. “I’d prefer it if it weren’t all that public. Wouldn’t want our lawyer going to jail,” He calls out over his shoulder as he holds the door open for her to step out.

She does.

Walking over to the railing, she exhales audibly trying to let go of the anger she’s built up over the course of the evening. 

“You alright there, doll?” He asks, his tone too damn sweet.

FUCK!

Focus, Y/n!

“No. No, Steve. Quite the fucking opposite. I’m dead set on the idea of murdering you, I’m sure I can lawyer my way out of jail.” She’s… exhausted.

He finally walks up to her then. Leaning on the rails, he looks at her. “What am I being charged with, Miss Stark?”

“Defamation.”

He smiles then. Fucking charmer. “And how did I defame my girl?”

“You’re going around telling people you don’t want to live with me—which is absolutely fine, by the way. I just want to know why you won’t tell me that to my face?” She’s so curious, some might deem it as desperation. 

His stance changes. He can clearly hear the vulnerability in her voice. “I didn’t say that to your face because it’s not true. I told you. I want to live in Brooklyn, and you want to live in New York. I don’t want to impose.”

“You’re at my place five nights a week, Steve. You think two more will be an imposition?”

He shakes his head, “Doll—”

She’s not in the mood for bullshit. “Steve, I will never ask you to do something that you don’t want to do. If you think moving in together would be a step we’re taking too soon, I understand that. To me life isn’t all that short as people make it out to be.” She can hear a laugh in some corner of her mind. It sounds suspiciously like Tony. “I would never mind taking things slow.”

“It’s not that, Y/n.” His head falls.

“What is it then?” 

“Doll…”

The thing about their relationship is that despite all the affections the two hold for each other, it’s clear—beyond clear that both of them hold secrets they aren’t willing to throw out in the open.

She shakes her head, “Look, Steve… I—I… I understand that this is new for you. I get that. It’s new for me too. I get that it must be scary, but you have to understand that it’s terrifying for me too.”

“Oh come on, Y/n! You flirt like it’s part of your job description and you do it well enough that you should be billing me for it. What do you have to be terrified of?” Steve throws back. He says it casually, or at least tries to. But the way his eyes skirt away from hers, she knows he’s trying to hide what he really feels. However, she doesn’t like the insinuation all the same. 

“What do I—Steve, do you even want this?” 

He straightens at the accusation, all tall, blond and buff. “What makes you think I don’t?”

She tilts her head, takes in the sight of him. The broad shoulders, the cocked brow, the challenge in his eyes, she relishes all of it. It’s hard not to—when it’s him. When it’s Steve. “The same thing that makes you scared,” she answers him with the same resolution. She watches his brow scrunch together slightly, either at being caught or in confusion, she’s not sure. “I know… I know that we don’t talk about it, that there’s this big fat elephant in every single room we share, and we never address it. We should—we really should talk about it, but we don’t…” She clenches her jaw, gathering courage, “I’ve got a bag full of secrets and you want a peak… I can’t particularly blame you for your curiosity, but I’d rather we could just—”

“Just?”

“I just wish we could move past it,” she admits softly.

Steve inhales audibly and slowly. “It’s not that simple, Y/n.”

“It’s not that complicated either, Steve,” she tells him. “I know you don’t trust me—”

“I trust you.”

The way he says it, it compels her to look at him. And when she does, she’s struck hard by the determination in them.

“I trust you,” he reiterates, “with my life.”

“Just not with your heart.” It’s a painful admission, and just as painful an accusation. She can see the hurt in her chest reflected back in his eyes.

“That’s not fair, Y/n,” he says, voice more broken than it has any reason to be. She’s the one who should be hurt, goddamn it.

“Maybe not,” she acquiesces, “but it is true… isn’t it?”

His head falls, he crumbles. He’s ashamed, because she isn’t wrong. She hit the nail on the head, and it seems the head might have been his. She might have been aware of that while striking the hammer, but guilt blooms inside her all the same.

“Look, Y/n—it’s—” His hands run through his hair in frustration, he turns away for a second before he turns back to her. He’s trying to buy time to come up with the right words.

“Not that simple?” She guesses, laughing a hollow laugh. “Then let me simplify this for you—you don’t see a future with me.”

His face morphs instantly to annoyance, “Who told you that? I know for a fact that I never said it, so who did? Huh? Who told you that I don’t?”

“I can see it in your eyes, Rogers,” she admits, words broken, eyes wet. 

“Then look again.” He’s a strong man, that Rogers. His words always carry weight, especially when he wants them too, sometimes even when he doesn’t.

“I’m looking, handsome, and all’s I see is doubt.”

His jaw clenches, his stance changes.

There’s a fight afoot.

Time for talking it out is behind them.

“Just say it, Steve.” She’s not going to like what comes next.

“I don’t know you.”

Yeah, she doesn’t just not like it, she fucking loathes this.

Steve continues, perhaps a little unaware of the damage his words must be inflicting. “I don’t know you. I—I try to look past it, I try to find some comfort in the fact that I know that you hate coffee and bubblegum, that you smoke when you’re worried, that you cry like a baby when watching movies, not because they are sad, but because they are grand. I know that you are sharing as much of yourself as you possibly can, but—” He meets her head on, like he’s going into battle. And who knows? Maybe he is.“But I also know that you wake up in the middle of the night sometimes, scared and terrified. And all I want is to pull into my arms and protect you from whatever you’re afraid of—except I have no fucking clue what that is.” He takes a step towards her, “I—I want to build a life with you, Y/n. I want a future with you.” Motherfucker. “But how the hell am I supposed to do that when I know nothing about your past.”

For anyone paying attention, her heart is breaking into a million pieces right about now.

“You don’t need to know everything about me to know me, Steve. My past—it’s fucking irrelevant.” It’s not the answer he wants, but it’s the only one she has to offer.

“I’m not asking you to tell me every sordid detail about your entire life—I’m just asking for something, anything… Throw me a fucking line, doll. I’m drowning here,” Steve pleads. He actually, well and truly pleads. He’s bordering on begging at this point. “I want this to be more—so much more, but it feels like maybe you don’t. From where I’m standing, it looks a whole lot more like you’re the one who doesn’t want this, instead of the other way round.”

Fucking hell.

Motherfucking, cocksucking hell.

Goddamnit.

She throws him the line.

“I was born in Madripoor.”

“What?” Steve asks, looking absolutely lost.

She gulps down her heart that’s beating at the speed of light and repeats herself, though this time, her voice wavers ever so slightly. “I was born in Madripoor. That’s where I’m from… or was from, before Howard Stark took me in.”

And he takes it in. He takes in this little tiny piece of information like he’s been handed the Holy Chalice. She shifts her weight from one foot to the other, suddenly feeling too exposed.

“Why do you call him Howard and not—you know—Dad?”

Her arms cross over her chest before she even realizes she’s doing it, as if her body is trying to hold itself together. She shrugs, trying for nonchalance, but it’s a little too rehearsed. “‘Cause I had a dad. And he was nothing like Howard. He was soft spoken and generous when he shouldn’t have been. He had kind eyes, calluses on his palms and he always smelled like tar.” She can’t meet his eyes when she speaks. “I’m not saying he was the exact opposite of Howard… But yeah, I guess that is what I’m saying.” She looks out over the balcony, at the seemingly endless New York skyline. She exhales sharply, her breath shaky, and grips the balcony railing. The cool metal helps ground her. “My dad was my dad. And Howie was Howie. I don’t know if that makes sense to you, and I don’t think I could explain it even if I tried to… Howard was the man who saved me, but that doesn’t mean he gets to replace my dad.”

“What…” 

She can tell what he wants to ask, and she can tell he’s scared to—because he doesn’t want to push. He’s gotten a sliver and he’s afraid he’ll lose it if he asks for more.

She’s already thrown him the rope, why not give it some slack, huh? 

“What happened to him?” She finishes for him, her voice sharper than before. Her eyes are avoiding looking at him like the plague, and yet, she catches him nodding in her peripheral vision.

Y/n’s grip tightens around the railing. Her shoulders lock up, and for a second, she considers not answering.

But it’s Steve—her Steve, so the words tumble out anyway. “He died—or I think he did… Madripoor is a violent place, a pirate island for all the bad guys from your rogues gallery to go and hide out in… A fight broke out between two rival factions and we got caught in the middle of it. He got me to safety, but then went back to see if he could help any other stragglers… I never saw him again.” Her throat feels tight, but she keeps her voice even. Controlled. “I was six years old.”

“And your mom?” His voice is quiet when he speaks again.

In for a penny, in for a pound.

“Dad used to talk about her like she was an angel. He told me I was two when we lost her,” she answers just as quietly.

“Does that mean…?”

“I don’t know what it means, Steve.” She kicks the ground a little frustrated, at him, but mostly at herself for being able to give out only broken bits of herself to the man she…  “Maybe she died, maybe she was taken… Or maybe it means that she left us, and he just didn't know how to tell that to a little kid asking about her mom.” Her voice is sharper now, meaner, because if she doesn’t lash out, she might actually have to sit with this awful, disgusting feeling crawling under her skin. Her body feels too tight, like she’s trapped in a room with no exits. “It could mean anything.”

“Did you ever look for them?” He asks, taking a step closer to her.

Her grip on the railing tightens. “Have you ever been to Madripoor?”

“Can’t say that I have.”

“But you have heard of it?”

“Yes.”

“Anything good?”

“Not really, no,” he answers, a little defeated.

She snorts. “On average, 23 people go missing from Lowertown alone…” She waits for the fact to register with him. And then she finally turns to him and adds, “Every week.” Steve’s brows fly up in shock. Then she can’t stop herself from smirking at his surprise. “Looking for them—” she shakes her head with a broken smile. “It would be easier to find a singular bullet in a warzone.”

Something shifts between them. Something shifts in him.

“You’re gonna punch me in the face if I ask you anything else, aren’t you?” He asks, but it’s not a question, it’s a statement. She can hear his smile in his words.

Her jaw clenches, and she decides to reply anyway. “There is a distinct possibility of that happening, yes.”

She hears him chuckle softly to her right. “This is really hard for you.”

“It would be easier if I were a little less sober, but… yes. It is.” Finally, letting go of the railing, she pockets her hands. She stands taller. “However, losing you over this—losing you cause I couldn’t do one hard thing, that would be… harder.” She turns to him then, ready and strong. “I don’t think I’d survive it.”

For a second Steve doesn’t move. He doesn’t let the moment dissolve, either. “You’re not losing me, doll. You can’t.” Then, before she can react—before she can think too hard about it—he just hugs her.

She freezes. Body going stiff like she’s just been handed a live grenade.

Part of her is scared of it, part of her hasn’t readjusted to the change in the tone of the conversation. Part of her is screaming at her to put some distance between herself and the man who holds her whole heart in the palm of his hand. Because what if he decides this isn’t enough? She’s… she’s scared. So, she should pull away.

Instead, her hands fist into the back of his shirt and she holds on.

Steve Rogers is built like a damn fortress, all solid muscle and unwavering steadiness. He’s warm, too warm, like he’s been storing up all this body heat just to throw her off. 

Unfair.

They stay like that, longer than she should probably allow.

Then, she hears him exhale against her hair. 

“When I came out of the ocean, I didn’t think this world had anything for me.” His voice is low, warm—dangerous, in the way it makes her chest feel like it’s coming apart at the seams. “I felt out of place, out of time,” he continues, like this is just casual conversation and not the kind of thing that makes her heart kick wildly against her ribs. “I didn’t feel like I belonged here—or anywhere.” She should say something. Deflect, make a joke, give him an easy out. But all she does is breathe. “But you changed that.”

Her throat closes up.

He doesn’t move, doesn’t pull away—if anything, his arms tighten around her. “Doll, you keep me grounded.” His breath is warm against her temple, too close, too much, just enough. “You make me feel like I belong here.”

She hates this. She hates how much she doesn’t hate this.

Steve doesn’t let her slip away into her own head. Instead, he pulls back just enough to look at her—just enough to make sure she’s listening. “You think it’s a coincidence that you’re always in my line of sight in every room I walk into?” he murmurs, like he’s letting her in on a secret he’s been keeping forever.

She blinks up at him, half-annoyed, half-trapped in his gravity. “I mean, yeah? Maybe?”

He just laughs, low and disbelieving, shaking his head. “Doll, you seriously think I just happen to catch your eye from across the bar?” His fingers are still cupping her face, thumbs skimming over her cheek like she’s something fragile. Her pulse trips over itself. “You think I don’t engineer every situation to always be within your earshot?” he goes on, the absolute menace. “To listen to you laugh? To listen to you cuss with that sailor’s mouth?”

Narrowing her eyes at him, “So you’re saying you stalk me?”

Steve grins. “I prefer ‘strategically position myself in your general vicinity.’” Smooth talker. Then, softly—almost reverently—he leans in. “You’re like a hurricane, doll,” he murmurs, voice barely a whisper. “You’re the eye of the storm. I’m caught in your field, and I have no clue how to get out.”

Her fingers tighten around his forearm, her whole body thrumming with the tension between them. “Do you want to?” she asks, her voice quieter now, just for him. “Get out?”

“No, doll. No.” His nose ghosts over hers, his lips just barely grazing hers as he whispers, “I think I’d suffocate if I tried.”

She barely has time to take a breath before his lips finally, finally press against hers. And—god help her—he kisses like he means it. Like he’s been holding back for longer than he can stand. Like she’s the first breath of air after being underwater too long.

She sucks in a sharp breath, gripping the front of his shirt to keep herself grounded. But it’s useless—because everything, everything, is spinning. Or maybe she is. Maybe it’s him. Because Steve Rogers kisses like devotion—like he’s trying to tell her something with every tilt of his mouth, every slow, intentional slide of his lips against hers.

And she gets it.

She gets it in the way his hands cradle her like she’s something precious, something unshakable and breakable all at once. She gets it in the way he sighs into her, relieved, like he’s been waiting for this moment his whole damn life. Her fingers tangle into his hair, yanking him closer, and—god help him—he groans.

That sound. 

That fucking sound.

It’s low and rough and wrecked, like he’s just barely keeping it together. And that? That’s her favorite thing now. So she does it again—tugs a little harder, just to hear it.

Steve grins against her mouth. “You’re a menace,” he mutters, voice warm and wrecked, kissing her deeper like it’s a challenge.

“And you’re—” she inhales sharply as his fingers slip beneath the hem of her backless dress, dragging slow and teasing along her waist.

“What was that, doll?” he asks, his lips brushing hers as he speaks. Smug bastard.

She glares at him, though it loses some weight considering she’s half-dizzy from the way he’s touching her. “I was gonna say, you’re making it real hard to think right now.”

Steve hums, lazy and pleased, his hands still mapping out every inch of skin they can reach. 

She is so incredibly screwed.

“You wanna stop?” he murmurs, lips skimming down her jaw, pressing the softest kiss right below her ear.

And—oh, she fucking hates him.

Because he knows what he’s doing. Knows exactly how her breath stutters, how she grips his shirt tighter, how she’s not pushing him away. Y/n exhales shakily, tilting her head just a little to the side, just enough to let him keep going. “Did I say that?” she breathes.

His answering chuckle is low and rough, and it vibrates against her skin like a goddamn earthquake. “No, doll,” he murmurs, lips brushing right over her pulse. “No, you didn’t.”

Her fingers curl into his hair, holding him there, keeping him close.

This is dangerous.

This is everything.

And fuck if that matters.

She just wants him.

So she tugs him back up to her, kisses him hard, kisses him until he stops teasing, until he stops holding back and just— 

Lets go.

And when he does?

It wrecks her.

Because Steve isn’t careful now. He isn’t measured or hesitant—he’s all in. He kisses her like he’s making up for lost time, like he’s been waiting for this since the moment he met her, and maybe he has.

“God, handsome—” she breathes against his lips, knowing full well what that nickname does to him.

It absolutely undoes him.

Steve groans again, deeper this time, and then—suddenly—her back is against the railing.

She huffs a laugh, breathless, wrecked, fingers dragging down his chest. “Oh, so now you’re impatient?”

Steve just grins, pressing another kiss to her smirking mouth. “Doll, I’m always impatient when it comes to you.”

God bless her, she is half a second away from yanking Steve right back down to her when—

A slow, sarcastic clap rings out behind them.

“Wow,” a familiar voice drawls. “This is adorable. Really. Hallmark should be taking notes. You two got the tension, the longing gazes, the obvious ‘we were just about to make questionable decisions’ body language…” He sighs dramatically. “Chef’s kiss.” He does the fucking action too, the freak.

She doesn’t even jerk away.

No, she closes her eyes. Exhales through her nose. Prays for strength. Then, slowly, very slowly, she pulls back and turns toward the absolute menace standing in the doorway.

And there he is.

Tony Stark. Billionaire. Genius. Her own personal tormentor.

He’s leaning against the doorway, drink in hand, smirking like he just walked in on the biggest scandal of the century.

“Tony.” Her voice is sweet, lethal. “We practically raised each other which means this can’t be a fault in your nurturing, so it has to be a personal failing.”

Tony places a dramatic hand over his heart. “Wow. What a way to greet your only living relative.”

Y/n tilts her head. “Oh, I’m sorry. You want a warm welcome? Here you go.” She flips him off.

Steve makes a choking sound next to her, trying—failing—not to laugh.

“Wow. Harsh.” Tony scrunches his nose in mild disappointment. “Here I am, simply looking for my beloved sister, only to find her engaging in a very public display of affection with none other than Captain America himself.” His head tilts, eyebrows waggling. “Safe to guess, you two kissed and made up?”

Y/n doesn’t miss a beat. “If I were you I’d be a lot less concerned about our relationship and a lot more worried about that balding situation you got going on.”

Tony’s eyes narrow. “Excuse me?”

“Oh, sorry, I mean the graying situation. My bad.”

Steve clears his throat, valiantly trying to fight back a grin.

Tony scoffs. “Okay, first of all, my hair is immaculate. Secondly, that was a cheap shot.”

Y/n shrugs, all innocence. “You were asking for it.”

“Asking for it—?” Tony gestures wildly. “I came out here to bring you two back into the fold, and instead, I’m being attacked.” He turns to Steve, pointing at him accusingly. “You see this? She didn’t give me nearly this much lip before you two became a thing.”

Steve, to his credit, stays neutral. “You did interrupt us, Tony.”

“Oh, I’m sorry.” Tony puts a hand to his ear. “Did you just say I interrupted something important? Well, that’s just tragic.”

She rolls her eyes and crosses her arms. “Did you need something, or did you just come out here to be an Olympic-level pain in my ass?”

Tony gasps. “Language.”

Steve raises an eyebrow. “Really?”

Tony points at him. “You don’t get to say anything, Mr. ‘Don’t-Cuss-in-Front-of-Me.’”

She tilts her head to hide her smile. “Seriously, what do you want?”

Tony takes a casual sip of his drink. “Oh, just thought I’d check in. Seeing as, you know, you made a very public proclamation of murdering the Golden Boy here,” he points to Steve with glass in hand. “People inside are wondering if our fearless leader bit the bullet at the hands of our lawyer.” He pauses there and smiles at her. “But I see you lacked the follow through.”

Y/n snorts. “Maybe I changed my mind.”

Tony clicks his tongue, provoking, “You are getting soft.”

She accepts the challenge happily. “Or maybe I’m saving my bloodthirst for the dickhead who’s cockblocking me right now?”

Tony squints. “See, that I believe.”

Steve, ever the mediator, clears his throat. “You said people were wondering where we were?”

“Oh, right.” Tony waves a vague hand. “The party’s still going, people are still drinking, and Clint is still coping with the emotional fallout of being the only guy who didn’t know about the two of you being a thing—blind idiot.” Tony rolls his eyes. “But more importantly—” He straightens, flashing his most obnoxiously confident smirk yet. “I came out here because there is, at this very moment, an ongoing bet about a very important question—” he pauses for dramatic effect, “—who is Y/n Stark’s favorite Avenger?”

Y/n blinks. “You people need day jobs.”

Tony ignores her. “Now, obviously, the answer is me.” He takes a sip of his drink, completely self-assured. “But, for some reason, some people think that might not be the case.”

Steve raises an eyebrow. “People bet on that?”

“Oh, yes.” Tony nods. “The stakes are high, Cap. Sam, Hill, Barton and Thor put down fifty on me, because, obviously, I’m the correct answer. Apart from Rhodey, the rest of them think it’s Capsicle. Which—” He throws a hand in the air, visibly disgusted. “Come on! That’s fucking delusional.”

Steve smirks. “Wow, Tony. That almost hurt.”

Tony waves him off. “Oh, don’t get sensitive on me, Spangles. You’re in second place at best. I mean, let’s be real—she’s not picking you over me.”

Humming, thinking for a long, deliberate second, she responds with, “Huh.”

Tony’s smirk widens. “Huh? Huh? That sounds like an agreement.”

She shrugs at that, noncommittal. “Sounds like a word, Tony.”

Tony narrows his eyes. “No, no, no. I don’t like that answer. I need definitive confirmation that I’m number one.”

Y/n tilts her head, smiling just enough to be dangerous. “Hate to break it to you, Stark, but if you needed confirmation… doesn’t that mean you’re not sure?”

Tony stares at her. Then blinks. Then—

“Oh, that’s dirty.”

It makes her grin, wide and proud.

Steve, who has been watching this like it’s the best show of his life, finally steps in, looking at her with a smug little smile. “You could just tell him, you know.”

She turns to him, giving him an exaggerated look. “And stroke his already overinflated ego? No chance.”

Steve chuckles, shaking his head. “You love messing with him.”

She smirks. “He makes it so easy.”

Tony throws up his hands. “Oh fuck off! It’s bullying like this that made Dad like you more.”

She makes a face. “Howard liked me more only ‘cause I was committing tax fraud for him.”

Steve chokes. “I’m sorry—what?”

Y/n waves a hand. “It’s fine. I fixed it… Mostly.” She shakes her head, “That’s not the point. Point is, don’t use your Dad as a way to get back at me. You know I hate that.”

“Only if you come back in and state for once and for all that I am indeed and in fact your favorite Avenger,” Tony throws back.

She’s caught absolutely fucking off-gard when Steve’s lips brush against her here, voice velvet smooth and painfully sensual, “No chance of it being me, doll?”

Y/n shivers before she can stop herself. Her fingers tighten in his shirt, eyes flicking up to meet his, and—damn him—he looks so unbelievably smug right now. “Wow,” she mutters, half breathless, half impressed. “Using your raw sex appeal to win a bet? That’s shameless, Rogers.”

Steve grins. “Nobody could tell it from all the bickering, but you two are inseparable—I needed an edge.” He places a soft kiss on her temple.

Tony gags loudly. “Oh my god, save it for literally anywhere else. The tension in here is gonna set off the sprinklers and ruin this killer outfit,” he says motioning to his magnificent three piece wine red suit—which she picked, B T dubs.

Fucking narsissit, she thinks to herself. “You love making everything about you.”

Tony smirks. “Well, yeah. I am your favorite.”

Y/n tilts her head. “You think you are.”

Tony narrows his eyes again. “I hate this game.”

“Yet, here you are,” she grins.

Tony exhales dramatically, throwing his hands in the air. “Fine. Fine! You win, okay?” He sighs, rubbing his temple like this is physically painful. “I love you, to the moon and back, obviously.”

She smiles.

He groans at her expression, pointing at her. “Stop looking at me like that.”

Laughing she throws back, “Like what?”

“Like I just handed you the emotional equivalent of my bank account.” He shakes his head, muttering, “Unbelievable.” 

She is still smiling when Tony rolls his shoulders, stuffing his hands in his pockets. His voice softens just a fraction. “Now can you please come back inside and grab a drink with me?” He clears his throat, glancing away like this isn’t a big deal. “I have barely seen you outside of missions, and—maybe I miss you, alright?”

And with that, he turns and walks back inside.

Steve watches him go, then sighs. “We should probably head back. I feel like a jerk stealing you away from him.”

She snorts, shaking her head. “Steve, we got drunk and worked on his suit two nights ago. He just likes being dramatic.”

Steve raises an eyebrow. 

“What?” She asks, confused.

“Is there anything you can’t do?”

She smiles at him, considering. “As much as I’d like to answer that question with the dirtiest, cheesiest one liners I can think of, we really should go inside—He doesn’t actually say he misses me all that often,” she reasons with him. But before she follows Tony in, she leans in close to Steve, voice soft but teasing. “This isn’t over.”

Steve grins, brushing his knuckles against hers. “Not even close.”

She smiles against his shoulder for half a second, then pulls him toward the party.

Read the next part here. Find other static verse works here.  Read The Avengers (ft. Static) here.

i'll tag people later. i'm real tired, it's been a long day. i just wanna get this out and be showered in comments and reblog.

i'm looking at you. yeah you! reblog this with funny tags. do it!

[allthingssteddie]

Steve Harrington sat nervously in his office, fidgeting with his pen. This was it, his first client as a therapist. He had been looking forward to this. despite his parents' doubts about his career choice.

"They're never going to pay you enough," his mother had said.

"It's a waste of time," his father had chimed in.

But Steve Steve wanted to prove them wrong. And wanted to prove to him self to that he wasn’t that asshole like in high school and wanted to actually help people. He just wasn’t expecting someone from high school in his office.

The door opened, and Eddie Munson walked in to the room stoping when he saw Steve. “Ha, he exclaimed "You're my therapist “King Steve? “Eddie’s eyes sparkled with amusement as he took in Steve's professional attire, his gaze lingering on the diploma on the wall.

Steve felt a flush rise to his cheeks

“Eddie, hey... wow, it's been a while," Steve stuttered, trying to compose himself.

Eddie smirked. "This is priceless." Steve scratched the back of his neck. "Maybe I should find you someone else. Sorry, Eddie, I should have figured it out was you."

Eddie smirked. "Nah, Steve, I definitely want you."

"No, really, I should—" Steve started.

"Steve, really, it's fine," Eddie said with a hint of a smile.

"Maybe you can even fix me," he mused,

Steve knew he should probably talk to his supervisors about switching, but he figured maybe he could make things right by him.

Eddie leaned back, a hint of amusement on his face. "So, King Steve, what do you want to know?"

Steve sighed, a gentle smile on his lips. "Eddie, if we're going to continue this, I really think you should just call me Steve."

Eddie smirked. "Okay, Steve."

Steve's expression turned serious. "So, Eddie, I understand you were court ordered to attend therapy. Can you tell me a little bit about what happened?"

Eddie made himself comfortable, laying down on the couch. "I don't know, I just got in a little trouble, that's all. It wasn't even my fault." Steve nodded encouragingly, his eyes locked onto Eddie's.

"Okay, well, let's start with that. What kind of trouble did you get into?" Eddie spun this ridiculous story, speaking quickly and with conviction.

Steve listened attentively, trying to keep a straight face. Every so often, he'd interrupt with a question he knew it was bullshit but he found it funny.

As their sessions continued, Steve listened but but part of him wanted to push Eddie to open up, to share his true feelings. But whenever Steve tried, Eddie would shut down, rolling his eyes and clamming up.

So Steve let Eddie continue these tale, he had to hand it to Eddie he had imagination. But as the months passed, something unexpected happened. Eddie, who had initially been court ordered to attend therapy, began to show up voluntarily.

Their sessions started, becoming less about therapy and more about... something else. Steve couldn't quite put his finger on it, but he knew he had to put a stop to it.

Steve's voice was gentle but firm. "Eddie, I think it's time we ended our sessions."

Eddie's face fell, his eyes welling up with tears. "Why? What did I do wrong?" he asked, his voice trembling.

Steve hesitated, unsure how to explain. "It's not that you did anything wrong, Eddie. It's just that...I have feelings for you." He paused, expecting rejection. "I know I shouldn't, and I don't expect you to feel the same. I'm sorry."

Eddie's expression transformed in an instant. A sly smile spread across his face, and his eyes sparkled with mischief. "Feelings, huh?" He sat up, his posture confident. "Want to grab coffee and discuss these feelings?"

[weebsinstash]

have you thought about.. mammon

I know Mammon is canon ace which doesn't really stop me but there's also a certain charm in imagining he's greedy for... purely your presence and company. Dude doesn't even want a blowie from you or nothing, you could just be settled beside him helping him devour a bucket of chicken wings and he's happy as a clam

The dude clearly indulges his each and every whim and doesn't feel the need to justify and rationalize his actions for fuck all nothing, not to mention he's a Cardinal Sin. Who the fuck would or could or want to actually stop him if he just started dragging you around, forcing you to spend time with him like some sort of, combination partner/pet?

I try to think of what would make Mammon more unique in comparison to some of our other crazy boys around here and, I feel like Mammon is kind of a hard spot because, his greed would want him to have total ownership and possession of you, but clamping down on your autonomy and happiness also deprives him of, seeing more of you and your character and all of the little things he likes, so I think he'd be this kind of, "nasty sweet spot" of being extremely possessive and jealous but also doesn't mind spoiling the Hell out of you, because, I mean, greed is his whole entire thing, so watching YOU get to be greedy is sort of like a double bonus for him! He gets to feel like a big strong man making his bae happy and providing for you while also like, idk, enjoying the act of watching you overindulge

Do you think Mammon would be into feeding and feederism, whether sexual or not? I feel like whereas Beelzebub wants people to indulge in gluttony safely, Mammon representative of greed would encourage you to eat and drink and smoke and do as much of whatever you're doing as you want, a real kind of "just keep eating until you throw up" kind of guy. Dude just hand feeding you little treats and getting off on how he's got you eating out of his hand and keeps pushing you to eat more and more until you're actually ready to puke, and THEN he wants to cuddle as you're lying there with an aching tummy that he's running his hands all over, and if you throw up, we'll, that just means you have room for more, right?

Mammon's the kind of guy to get you so fucking wasted you're stuck in bed all day the next day puking into a mixing bowl and he drags you to a couch to at least scromit your guts out next to him while he's watching trash TV. Giving you "personal space" does not quite fit into his whole system of being a living symbol of greed, know what I mean?

Goddddd considering his whole lowkey "grifting entertainer" shtick where he was formerly an actual guitarist, I can just picture him making you wear, like, his merch as pajamas and shit. You're going to bed in the oversized band t-shirt + lime green panty combo and you'll like it, AND, you're tripping if you don't think he wouldn't force you to share a bed with him like some sort of stuffed animal (I bet he snores like a goddamn bear, too 💀💀💀)

I bet his tastebuds amd his palette are legit fucking garbage too so honestly you don't even have to be very talented in the kitchen before he's insisting he wants to try something you've cooked, and from then on in, serving him food becomes a regular thing. It's just so... intimate and sensual for him, that he's got you actually cooking and feeding him (and then maybe he can shag ya later). He has to find a balance between working you versus spending time with you since, he doesn't get to spend as much time with you if you're over a hot stove, and he likes watching YOU eat and indulge and do all of that as well.

Can you even imagine it. Having to like. Spoonfeed waffles into his gaping maw, holding the fork for him while he's moaning and groaning and shit, maybe even having you in his lap as you feed him, and-- oh God I just really hate being sticky like on God I fucking hate being sticky and touching sticky things like viscerally and i just got the most like detailed mental image of him getting fucking syrup everywhere and then thinking it's hot and wanting to fuck like that and lick it all off of you and I swear to God I think I'd rather be waterboarded

Can you imagine Mammon wanting to make merch of you because he's so legitimately infatuated he can't conceive of a world where you wouldn't be immensely popular as some sort of celebrity and he just gets PERSONALLY OFFENDED if people don't like you or think you're cute or something. His company starts selling like, genuinely innocent innocuous little plushies of you and only so many sell and he's raging that people are just fucking stupid. Do you think Mammon would release product lines to the public to justify making shit of you for himself. Like. You discover a hidden room one day and it's filled with an ungodly amount of your merch and he tries to lie and say it's backstock that never sold and he's just hanging on to it. Like sir what do you mean you released that line of posters officially just so you could have my picture on your fucking wall--

Similar to concepts with Valentino I also think it's just, cute but also funny if you think of Mammon bending his own rules to be more possessive and greedy with the Reader as an extension of his property/lover. You just come into the office one day and there's Fizz, "holy shit im having such a rough fucking day. The new trend is "anatomical accuracy" and Mammon just made me sit through having someone take close ups of my taint to model it on the sex robots. So how is your day going, where's Mammon, I never really see you two separated" and there's just a drop of sweat falling down your forehead, "oh, um, Mammon is having some quiet time because he just spent the last several months developing this new plushie of me and he got this idea of giving it voicelines when you hug it and now he's really mad because he doesn't actually want anyone else to have a doll of me that says I love you so he's just, sitting in the warehouse like, sitting in a pile of them being mad he wasted so much money. But he told me I did a good job and it wasn't my fault and he gave me a new credit card to go to the arcade with"

You just have to awkwardly stand there as your clowny coworker gives a thousand yard stare into the distance like he just personally trekked through the jungles of 'Nam only to find out you got a short cut on a private jet. Consider yourself lucky, Fizz; at least you don't have to bathe with him when he doesn't want to stop snacking long enough to get himself clean and keeps dropping peach rings and suddenly you have a yeast infection from getting sugar water in your coochie-

[tinderbox210]

x

Found this concept art of Kay, Nix and ND-5 on twitter. Sadly I don't think this scene made it into the game (unless it's part of a side quest I haven’t done yet, though it could be part of one of the DLCs) or maybe they changed it to the cantina meeting after the clam job.

Anyway, I love the concept art a lot, and not just because of how ND lets Nix climb him like a mountain goat (not that he could do anything to stop the little critter), and now all I think about is Kay and ND going on a stake-out or waiting for a contact in the cantina, but that person is late or doesn't show up at all, and before they know it, the stake-out turns into something almost like a first date without either realizing it (because they're mutual dumbasses in this scenario).

ND would be irritated and annoyed when Kay starts to ask him all those unnecessary questions about him again instead of focusing on the job and only answer begudgingly and ask her questions in return to get back at her at first, but then his curiosity would be piqued with every further question and he would start to ask genuine questions, like how he asked about her family and future plans in the game.

He would start to take note of more little details about her, like what's her favorite drink or her favorite song playing in the cantina and how her laughter sounds when he says something unintentionally funny. And despite all of these informations being basically useless for their job, he would keep them in his ever expanding Kay Vess folder for closer examination. Most of all he would notice how Kay would treat him like an equal and a real person the whole evening and how nice that feels and how different it is from the way Jaylen treated him, who always called him "old friend" but never let him forget his place.

And Kay would be surprised again at how easily she falls into this trustworthy and comfortable dynamic with ND and how much she opens up to him like she hasn’t done with anyone else in a long time. She would ask him about all the exotic places he's been again (because she’s hardly been anywhere) and all the adventures he's had and remember she still needed to show him that spectacular sand waterfall she wanted to show him in the game (I also really liked the little scene where they talked about the oceans on Tatooine with them sounding both so wonderous so I really think that’s a fascination they share). And when she instinctively touches his hand or accidentally bumps a leg against his under the table, she would awkwardly blush and get tongue-tight for no reason because he’s just a droid and probably doesn't care, but she still feels this odd spark.

Oh yes, I have given this wayyy too much thought 🤔

[sukunasdirtylaugh]

ex-husband!satoru blurb, reader and satoru have a daughter named saori, slight angst

your skin feels cold when it used to feel warm by his side, satoru stands not only 3 feet from you as he peers down at your daughter as she sleeps in your arms.

"I can stay over at a hotel." he offers. the both of you were here for satoru's dad's birthday party. his 60th birthday, followed by a grand dinner. and of course you were invited. of course you would, you literally had given birth to his favorite (and only) grandchild.

"don't be ridicouls." you shook your head. truth was, satoru had arrived a day early since his daughter asked to see him, but not taking into account how busy the city would be this weekend was, almost every hotelroom was resereved. something about a famous celeberity in tour for the weekend rose in the talks.

"you can take the couch," you offer, "but I'm sure there's another room in the suite. I can even call the staff to bring in an extra bed." you knew shoko's words were ringing at the back of your head, at least his girlfriend won't be coming, she said. satoru had been with nora for nearly 6 months now. and according to suguru, from shoko, he hadn't even presented her to his dad. it's just proof he's just waiting for something to happen in this last family reunion, she told you.

"are you sure?" he asked, walking on eggshells, "I... I don't want to make this-"

"-saori would really look forward to having her dad around. maybe you can make pancakes with her in the morning. I saw the kitchen here had some supplies you could use. she's been really into baking as of late." he nods.

"yeah, but still..."

"it's not like we're sleeping in the same room, satoru." you sigh, thinking twice if annoyance rang in your tone. "she's fine," you reassure him softer, "we're fine."

a minute passes of thought, and he nods.

"let me take her to bed for you."

there's a nervousness in your hands when he takes her from you, and you clam your hands hoping to get rid of the sensation by the time he's back. your throat itches, and your heart feels heavier. you've never wanted to scold at shoko more than now, why couldn't it be her? she'd be so much better at doing this than you, you thought.

by the time satoru returns, his sleeves are rolled up before he rubs his palms against the front of his pants, "I... do you...?"

"tomorrow's a big day," you answer, softly adjusting a pillow, two, for satoru. he had a habit of holding pillows in his sleep. "it's your dad's birthday."

"I know," he wants to say something, "are you nervous?"

"not really, why would I be?"

"I don't know," he breathes, "I just thought... after the divorce..."

"he hasn't treated me any different, and I'm grateful for that." I can't say the same for us.

"he's always liked you," satoru scratches the back of his head, "it's kinda hard for him not to. not when you've blessed us all with saori." there it is again, that feeling in the base of your chest. it's anxious, eating you away like tiny ants, taking bits and bits from you soon to leave you empty in a long silence.

"I heard you and nora were trying to concieve," there's some regret after you say those words, and your nose burns at the thought of continuing this talk. your eyes averted to the ground.

"I... well, you're not exactly wrong..." he breathes, uncomfortably, "it-it's in the talks..."

"and you want a son."

"not..." he breathes then huffs, no words as fast as yours.

"I worry about saori," I worry about us. "about... another baby... another..." you breathe, "it's a big change. permanent."

"she'll be fine if we talk to her," the fact is, are you okay?

"I don't know," you murmur below your breath, enough for satoru to catch on.

"I... I feel like I should say something...."

"you don't have to," I don't want to make you uncomfortable because I'm already uncomfortable. "you just... you have new plans." that don't surround us.

"but..." your eyes swell in tears, making you face away from him. "when we seperated, we promised to always work together, to support one another in anything we do. especially when it came to saori," the back of your nose stings, "if this makes you happy, then... who am I to say no?"

"you're the mother of my daughter first and foremost," he says, confidently. "and you were the love of my life second." he says, "one of those will always stands, but the other calls for you right now."

[startrekfangirl2233-writes]

Look! Up in the Sky!

Mickey "Fanboy" Garcia x Reader

Description: It's hard, making a name for yourself as an investigative journalist in a city as big as Metropolis. It seems like everyone and everything is against you, just because you weren't born and raised in Metropolis. But you're determined to make it. When a run-of-the-mill article turns into a hostage situation with armed criminals, you're not sure you'll be making it out of this situation alive. Can a run-in with Metropolis' own Superman light the flames of your passion once more? Or are you destined to pack up and go back home?

Disclaimers: DC canon-typical violence. Armed gunmen. Some language.

Warnings: Like most of my fics, this fic features a Female!Reader

Word Count: 3313

Author Note: Hiya lovelies! I've been thinking about this fic for a long time. I started writing it sometime early this year and never actually got very far. Several rewrites later and here we are!

First and foremost, I want to dedicate this story to the beautiful @sarahsmi13s, since it is her birthday! Vinny! Happiest of birthdays to you! I hope the upcoming year is bright and filled with as much joy as you've brought to me!

Second, I feel like I am permanently obligated to thank @horseshoegirl for being the Comma Queen she is and making sure my ramblings are well-written and actually make sense. This fic wouldn't be possible without you, Lucky!

This is going to be a multi-part story. Please let me know if you'd like to be tagged!

AO3: Cross-posted here!

Wattpad: Cross-posted here!

My Masterlist

Series Masterlist | Next Part

"I'm sorry, he what?!"

The mumbling on the other end of the phone makes you even angrier and more frustrated than ever. The frustration isn't new to you, not at all. It's part and parcel of being one of The Daily Planet's investigative journalists. The other thing the Planet appreciates in its journalists is people who have a nose for stories. You think you have one. Which is why everything is telling you that Peabody is prevaricating because he's trying to hide something.

"I understand your position, Mr. Peabody, but your contact is my biggest informant. If we don't have his testimonial, we'll never be able to publish this article on LexCorp."

There's more irate, increasingly loud yelling spilling down the speaker, but you could care less. You've been working on this article for months, carefully building layer upon layer of evidence, crafting the perfect hard-hitting expose. You're not taking his bullshit at face value anymore. Your mind is whirling as you lean back in your chair. Peabody is still spilling excuses into your ear, not that you care. Maybe you’re a little rough and brusque with Peabody as you hang up, but something about this situation is pinging in your head.

Your office is a bright space, all white walls, glass panes and metallic accents. From up on the 68th floor, Metropolis looks like a heaving anthill. Across the cityscape, another skyscraper glints tauntingly at you. You know Luthor is wrapped up in this. Okay, sure, corporate espionage isn’t exactly his deal, but who else could it be? You’ve carefully counted out every other potential culprit. Only Luthor is left.  Turning around, there’s an unholy rage in your countenance as you glare down at the twisted mess taking over your walls. There are newspaper clippings, articles, string and scribbled notes all over the walls. Just looking at it is sometimes enough to give you a headache. But you desperately need to get to the bottom of this situation. There must be a reason why all roads seemingly lead to Lex Luthor’s shining obelisk to his ego. You wouldn't be surprised if Peabody is clamming up because someone is blackmailing him.

Before you can further dig into the LexCorp situation, a whistle rings out through the air. You're the newest investigative journalist at the Daily Planet. It means you have the smallest office with half-broken heating and air conditioning, which nobody else wanted. It’s also the office furthest away from the bullpen.

The editor-in-chief of the Planet, a gruff, peppery older man named Perry White, only calls all of you together if there is something big brewing in Metropolis. You have to shove your way to the front of the circle loosely gathered around Perry. You're short, so you couldn’t see over the crowd if you tried.

“Alright, alright, settle down you lot.”

Perry's voice is gruff, carrying the tones of a person who grew up in Metropolis or one of its boroughs. Of course, most of the office hails from Metropolis. Sometimes you think your upbringing in the cornfields of Iowa has something to do with your distance from the other journalists on staff. After all, despite living in Metropolis for the past five years, your voice still holds the slightest twang. You can dress like a Metropolis professional, walk like one, and talk like one, but everyone makes it abundantly obvious you will never be a citizen of Metropolis.

The hazing is par for the course. You’ve seen more than your fair share in the three months since you started at The Daily Planet. The source of your struggles is, you’re sure, one person. She’s standing at the other end of the circle of reporters waiting with baited breath as Perry doles out assignments.

Natasha Trace.

She gets all of the best assignments from Perry, just because she’s his niece or something like that. The vindictive smirk she gives you as she accepts the latest city hall press conference is proof. Your own assignment is a little more dangerous, 300 words on the newest homeless shelter opening in Southside. According to the mayor, Southside isn’t dangerous anymore, but you don’t believe him. Perry quotes the same thing every chance he can get, especially because he sends reporters out to Southside pretty often. It’s all part of the Planet’s “For the People” reporting strategy. Every day, you hear people talking about another mugging or shooting or what have you. So you’re under no assumptions that Perry and Natasha are giving you an assignment they want you to succeed in.

You're cursing them more and more the next day when you're kneeling with a puddle of spilled tomato soup seeping into your sensible dark trousers. It was just your luck that masked gunmen waltzed into the shelter in the middle of your interview, wasn’t it?

 It was also just your luck that one of them had sent a spray of bullets into the air the moment hands went up. Cue some well-deserved screaming and a near-stampede for the doors, and you’d been pushed to the floor. So now you’re crouching in spilled soup with your hands up, trying and failing to moderate your breathing.

What the hell does a soup kitchen in Southside have for a gang of armed robbers, anyway? It’s not like it has much money. After all, this is only one of a string of new food shelters opening up in Metropolis. They’ve all been funded by the government, and they’re all supposed to be as clean as can be. Supposed to be, anyway. Obviously something isn’t right in the state of Denmark.

What’s just as interesting is the sight of the photographer you’ve been sent to the shelter with. Mickey Garcia is one of the Planet’s best. He’s got an eye for taking those photographs nobody else can. You’re not sure why Perry sent him with you. Usually he’s buddy-buddy with Natasha. He’s probably wishing he were with Natasha at City Hall right now. You know you are. But he doesn’t look scared or worried. He’s just kneeling in the soup next to you, hands up with his head cocked to the side and eyes staring into the distance.

It’s almost like he expects the police to come roaring up. Just as the lead invader turns his head, there’s a rush of wind and you see an imperceptible smirk on his face before he disappears between one blink and the next. You can smell ozone in the air, bitingly sharp, but it seems like nobody else notices but you.

Who the hell is Mickey Garcia? You almost wish you were hiding behind one of the tables. Because then you can pull out your notebook and start writing. Instead, it seems like all you have is your eyes and ears. How did he disappear so quickly? Metahumans aren’t exactly new in the world (or well, at least in the country). You remember reading about metahuman related events across the country. After all, everyone knows about Gotham City’s Bat. But recently there have been more and more reports. A meta-human in red-and-gold streaking through Central City. Villains with the power to freeze anything in its tracks and heroes with the power of the seven seas and beyond. And of course, everyone has seen the fluttering blue cape of Metropolis’ own metahuman.

So where does that leave you? Wishing for Superman, as you’ve heard him called, to save you? You’re not even sure he’ll show at all. There have to be a million other things happening in Metropolis more important.

“ALL OF YOU ON THE FLOOR!”

You’re not on the floor long when a hand grabs you by your hair and yanks you up.

“What do we have here?” A greasy voice growls the words into your ear as cold metal presses into your temple. “A little reporter eagerly waiting for a scoop?”

You shudder, your skin crawling at the hunger in this man’s voice as he traces his index finger up and down your throat. Your press badge thwaps against your chest with every movement.

“P-please.” You’re trembling in earnest, teeth chattering. “These people are innocent, th-they have no money. They’re here to get some food. The only money the shelter has is for food.”

His cackle chills you to the bone. “Oh, you’re so naive, you sweet little thing.”

“We’re not here for the shelter’s money. We’re here for the city’s money.” He grins, blowing his foul-smelling breath in your face. “And if the city doesn’t cough up the goods, we’ll just take you in exchange.”

“And what if he comes to save us?”

You’re not sure who asks, but it sparks a rising tide of questions. People are shouting the questions out, and the men grow angrier and angrier. From your new vantage point with a barrel pressed to your temple you can see how uneasy they actually are. Their fingers tighten around the weaponry, paling at the joints as they grip at the metal. The more people ask, bolstered by the sounds of the sirens outside and the crackle of voices through bullhorns, the angrier your captor gets.

“All of you, shut up!” It's a roar of sound which leaves your ears ringing. The gun hurts as it presses into your throat. It’s hard to breathe, to swallow, to think. Something tells you you're not getting out of this stand-off alive. Your pulse is thudding in your ears and your chest aches. You hear the tell-tale click and your eyes are screwed closed.

Please. Please. Please. I promise I'll be better. I promise I'll be a better daughter, a better employee.

You're not sure who you're praying to, but you’re praying nonetheless.

There's so much I haven’t done yet.

It shouldn’t be so sad, thinking about how pathetic your life is - how empty it is. You're braced to hear the sound of a gunshot, braced to feel pain and then feel nothing ever again. You can feel the silk of your blouse, the expensive one you never wear, sticking to your back as you heave in thready, unsteady breaths.

It's almost anticlimactic, the way it happens. You smell the same sharp ozone scent you did earlier and the hand wrapped around your throat, the gun pressed to the hinge of your jaw disappears. You keep your eyes screwed shut, trying to ignore the yells of pain and cut-off curses as people get beaten up. You keep expecting to feel the acute pain of a bullet lancing through you, burning through your skin. But you feel nothing. You hear nothing, and obviously all you can see is the underside of your own eyelids.

“Miss, you can open your eyes now. It's all going to be okay.” 

You know what this voice is saying as you stand stiff-backed in the center of the room. Your muscles are locked in place and your hands are curled into fists at your side. You're not sure you could move if you tried to.

The hands that hold yours are warm, warmer than they have any right to be. But they feel good, and you can feel yourself relaxing into the touch. When your eyes open, you're not sure what you expected to see. But what you get is Metropolis's own Superman. He is smiling at you, pearly teeth on display, big brown eyes gentle as he talks you out of your panic. You're enraptured by how his dark hair curls just so over his forehead and how his jaw is so well-defined it could cut diamond.

More than anything, you wish you were still holding your notebook and pen or a dictaphone or anything. If there was anyone you want to interview here and now, it's him. But something is bothering you about him. He looks oddly familiar, something in the turn of his cheek and the fall of his hair.

Your statement to MCPD takes the longest. Long after all the other hostages have headed home or been shuttled to other shelters in the city, you stand, ignoring the way tomato soup is crusting on your clothes and how your fingers ache. Maybe your statement wouldn’t have taken quite so long if you weren’t trying to interview your interviewer back. In any case, by the time your throat is dry and aching, it’s late, approaching midnight and the only person left other than police personnel is Superman.

“A-are you okay, Miss?” 

You blink at his words, because he sounds oddly bashful, and that is a look you never expected to see on a superhero’s face.

“I’m fine.” You grin, the motion only halfway genuine. “I'm just about to head out. I'm sure a superhero like you has better things to do, other people to save and whatnot.”

“U-um, no actually.” He tips his head to the side, using his hand to fix his already immaculate hair.

“Do you always wait around at crime scenes to walk a gal home?”

“W-would it be alright if I walked you home?”

Your questions collide in midair against each other. You huff out an exhausted laugh, but he just blushes a little, golden cheeks flushing as his eyes twinkle at you.

“N-no. I don’t make a habit of waiting at crime scenes to walk girls home. Guess that's something only for you.”

Now it's your turn to battle hot cheeks. You can't even fan your face off because you don't have a thing to fan yourself with. Flapping your hands makes you feel stupid. So instead, you let Superman lead you out of the shelter and onto Metropolis’ streets. The city is alive with the sound of cars and ambulances. Someone has a radio on their window playing music. It feels like you're in an entirely different place.

“So, what about that walk home?”

He smells good. For the first time you notice how good he smells, this Superman, now that your nose isn't clogged with the smells of spilled tomato soup and sandwiches. You want to spend time with him. You want to forget what is waiting for you in the morning, how angry Perry is going to be when you didn't get a scoop on the shelter or any pictures that you know of. Maybe if you spin the Superman angle to this? It doesn't feel right, exploiting this man when he's so clearly doing it to help people. You also don't want to stop talking to him yet.

“Sure.”

Honestly you wish you'd clarified, because when he said walk, you thought he was actually going to walk with you. Instead he sweeps you up in his arms and shoots up into the sky. You scream the whole way, hands scrabbling for purchase against his suit, finally settling for an arm around his shoulder. You're shaken and shivering when he finally stops moving.

“Shit, sorry.” 

You grumble into his broad chest at the cheeky apology. 

“Just thought you'd want to see the city how I see it.”

When you finally screw up the courage to take a look, your lips part in a gasp. The entirety of Metropolis is laid out in front of you. Lit in gold from all of the lights, you're grinning from ear-to-ear as you peer out over the city.

“It's gorgeous!” There's a pleased smirk on his face. “I can't believe you get to see the city like this!”

“Yeah,” He grins, something soft. “I didn't fall in love with the city until the first time I saw this view.”

“I can see why,” You gasp, witnessing how soft your colossal city looks in the moonlight, how it seems like a world filled with such promise.

“Let's get you home.” There's a blush on his cheeks as he swoops you down, following your murmured instructions like he knows every inch of the city.

You feel a little bit like a princess when he sets you lightly down on the doorstep. He's still floating in the air, the navy blue suit he's wearing clinging to every muscle. Now more than ever something feels familiar about him. He stays outside your door watching with the same smirk on his face, his head cocked to the side like he's waiting to hear your deadbolt slide home.

You're a little giddy when he flies away, and you curl into your bed like you're in a dream. You sleep well, for the most part, not half as traumatized as you expected to be after being held hostage at gunpoint. At least, until you jolt up in bed, your hair a mess around you and growl, “Garcia!” 

He'd disappeared when the police came to the shelter with their bullhorns and their posturing. You'd smelled the same sharp ozone-tinged scent in the air when he'd disappeared and when Superman shot into the room. But there is more too. The shape of his face, the way he smiled, the almost compulsive way he pushed his hair off his face. He acts just like Garcia does, too.

What is the likelihood your first encounter with Metropolis' own Superman would give you insight into his alter-ego? After all, nobody would suspect that quiet, bespectacled, sweet Mickey Garcia, a photographer for the Daily Planet, is Superman. Nobody, it's obvious, but you. Forget your conspiracy board on LexCorp and their shady dealings. Right now, an exclusive interview with Superman seems like just the ticket to rocket you into fame.

But you can’t let on that you know. You spend the day typing up a lackluster article on the shelter opening, your eyes peering over your computer every time you hear footsteps coming your way. The people walking past you never stop by, not even to chat. You're practically sprinting for the door when you see Garcia, chunky headphones around his neck.

“Hey, Garcia!” 

He turns and looks oddly surprised to see you. 

“You got a sec?”

“Y-yeah, of course.” 

His stutter is adorable. You have to remind yourself he is Superman. 

“I wanted to take a look at the pictures you shot yesterday. Obviously the opening wasn't what we expected, but it should be an interesting public interest piece anyway.”

When he's sitting in the chair next to yours, fingers flying over your keyboard as he shows you all of the photos he took as well as a few of the aftermath, you're questioning your gut instinct even more. How is it possible he got pictures of the police helping people, interviewing you, if he was Superman? 

It's nice, working with someone who smiles at you instead of spitting insults out behind your back.

“This looks great.”

There's a smile on your face as you look at the finished article. 

“Yeah, not bad for an article about a shelter opening turned into a hostage situation, right?”

“Y-yeah.”

You turn, and rest your arm on his forearm. You let your reporting instinct take the driver’s seat. When he's relaxed, maybe you'll get some answers out of him.

“I completely forgot to ask! How are you holding up after yesterday? You know what Perry always says, ‘We're a family here at the Planet!’. I was terrified when those gunmen burst in.”

You prattle on and on, seeing his face change, almost fall, when you mention Superman. 

“You know, he's awfully handsome, Superman is. He took me home, made sure I was alright.”

You grin, wickedly, though you know for sure nobody here in Metropolis knows you well enough to tell.

“And then he blushed.”

All of your suspicions are proved true when Mikey Garcia blushes the same way Superman did.

“You know something? Superman blushed just like that when he was showing me Metropolis how he sees it.”

There's panic in his eyes now. You're just fast enough to block him at the door, arm flung out to stop him from walking past you.

“So…. How long have you been Superman, Mickey Garcia?”

Taglist:

@sarahsmi13s @desert-fern @horseshoegirl @teacupsandtopgun

@roosterforme @cherrycola27 @kmc1989 @chaoticassidy

@shanimallina87 @a-reader-and-a-writer @dakotakazansky @seitmai

@shinycupcakebaker

I DO NOT CONSENT TO HAVE MY WORK POSTED, TRANSLATED, OR PUBLISHED ON ANY SITES OTHER THAN ON AO3, ON WATTPAD, OR ON TUMBLR BY ME. IF YOU SEE MY WORKS ANYWHERE OTHER THAN AO3, ON WATTPAD, OR TUMBLR, THEN THEY HAVE BEEN POSTED WITHOUT MY PERMISSION AND I WILL BE WORKING TO TAKE THEM DOWN.

[macknshift]

[ ☀️ 🗺️ 🪼&👙 ] for your marauders reality pleasseee 🥺🙏

YIPPEEEEEE THE DR I LIVE MY MERMAID PRINCESS FANTASY IN!!!! (thank u for the ask pooks)

𐔌 . ☀️ ⋮ DAYS OF SUN ֹ ₊ ꒱ what are your go-to summertime activities? do you and your friends plan big garden parties with all the fruits and snacks? maybe a charcuterie board? possibly a water balloon tournament?

day-to-day, i do three things; swim (in a lake near my house. it's enchanted to not have any creatures or illnesses in it, Thank God!) read, and tan. i lay out in the sun for so long every day. i know that logically i don't have to care about tanning bc i'm a metamorphagus and i can change my skin color at whim (which i don't do?? btw??? i've seen ppl say that they do and i am NAWT a race changer good lord) and also the sun is not that strong in my hometown, but i just like laying in the sun and getting a nice bit of outside time. i usually bring an enchanted mp3 player so i don't have to bring any electronics with me lol

otherwise, i just like popping in and visiting my friends where they live. i think i visit remus the most (mainly bc we're bffs but also his family is so sweet (his younger sister adores me, i'm like her idol or smth lol)) but i go see james specifically a lot too. (euphemia hooks me up w some of the best food i've ever had in my entire life LMFAO) my friends obviously come and visit me too, so it's not like i'm the one travelling to them 24/7, but it is a really fun activity to just go floo-ing around the greater UK area lol

𐔌 . 🗺️ ⋮ WORLD WIDE MAP ֹ ₊ ꒱ if you could have one fantastic trip where would you go? why would you go there? what intrigues you about that place? are there certain activities there that have attracted you there?

i would LOVE to visit japan. japan is overall a bucket list country for me anyway, but i can imagine that the magic system there is probably pretty different. besides that, i just really want to go to the studio ghibli museum y’all 🙏🏻🙏🏻 like PLEAK just once and i will be a happy clam i promise i will be!!!!!! i honestly don't know who would come with me tee bee h. i feel like logically i could drag remus with me he would basically go anywhere w me and probably (weirdly) alice fortescue? she's japanese (adopted by the fortescues!) and i know that she likes to travel based on her and frank planning on taking a gap year once they graduate (they graduate 2 years before i do!) so maybe? mayhaps? alice would come along? i think i could also convince marlene too. she's on a "my parents want me to stay inside SO I MUST TRAVEL!" kick rn (which like, good for her tbh)

𐔌 . 🪼 ⋮ COLORFUL JELLYFISH ֹ ₊ ꒱ okay, we're going to the biggest aquarium in the world. where are you dragging me first? to the large sharks? the exotic fish? fish tank tunnel to watch the fish above us? or are you mad at me because you wanted to go get ice cream instead?

on top of the whole. u know. mermaid fairy princess vibe i try to have, i deadass think i can talk to fish. like, not shitting you, i think i can. or at least like. dolphins. (they’re kind of terrifying but my mom’s patronus is one so i’ve learned to appreciate them LMFAO)

personally i looove just running around and seeing all the little guys. like the tiny ones that get overlooked for the Big Kahunas™️ bc that’s just how i am as a person i think??? idk i’m just a “look out for the little guy” type ig. besides that! however! as i mentioned in the marvel dr answer, i do tend to go insane for the fish tank tunnels. in my cobra kai dr i’m sooo excited to go to the sekai taikai solely for that aquarium i’m so srs LMFAOOO obvi barcelona *said in the voice of that kid from booksmart that says s-es as ‘th’* will be super fun but like!!! aquarium!!!!!! i am getting off track lol

𐔌 . 👙 ⋮ DOTTED BIKINI ֹ ₊ ꒱ what are your dearest summer pieces? a swimsuit that highlights the color of your eyes and makes you feel good? an old band tee you put on after you're done swimming? a new top with pretty flowers on it?

*kim crawford dance* THIS MY JAM!!!!!! the little collage i made above is pretty much the vibe for my summer clothing! i'm ngl, i dress pretty much the same every single season, just varying amounts of skin showing 😭😭 i'm a metamorphagus as well, so i change my hair color based on whatever i'm wearing that day too. i normally stick to those same pastels & everything, and of course the vibe is pastel mermaid princess, so my hair is either the typical pastel pink (what i make my 'default') OR a bright blonde with streaks of whatever color i'm wearing that day (usually pink, purple, or blue streaks!) which i think is super fun.

jewelry wise, i stick to the same jewelry i wear all year (i have a heart-shaped locket necklace from my parents that has a photo of me and my family & a photo of my nuna and bamp (my grandparents) and another necklace that has a sea star pendant from my mom. i wear a crap ton of rings, with various jewels and things and a few separate bracelets, including a charm bracelet with a charm for each year i complete of school, which is super fun. kind-of pjo vibes a bit?) BUT! i wear a lot of arm cuffs? i think they look super cool, and it kind of adds to the whole beach-y vibe. it's kind of ironic that my ass lives in (lowkey) dreary belfast, ireland, but it's alright!!! i travel a bunch!!!

[rustedleopard]

Going insane thinking about my headcanons for how Ceroba and Starlo met and became best friends.

I hc that they met in kindergarten and Ceroba had initially started off by bullying Starlo because she was perpetuating the cruelty that her parents had taught her. Ceroba's parents weren't very good people who picked apart all of Ceroba's faults and were just. Abusive in general. So of course that's what she picked up from them. And when she sees this nerdy star-monster with coke bottle glasses that are at a prescription that would let a normal person see god, she's like "Ah, yes. I must be mean to him." And starts harassing him by stealing his lunches and calling him names and tripping him.

And Starlo is a quiet and unobtrusive kid, so he doesn't bring up that he's getting bullied (or maybe he does once or twice but it never goes anywhere) and eventually one of these instances ends in a physical altercation that gets both of them sent to the principal's office and their parents are called in. And Starlo's parents are deeply concerned because it's out of character for their kid to be fighting; this is kindergarten, not a WWE match. They're happy that he's fine but still. They're concerned about him and if any future instances of bullying will be prevented. They're advocating for their kid. And meanwhile Ceroba's parents are formal and stiff in a way that has him intimidated. Just looking them in the eyes has him clamming up. At her parents' orders, Ceroba apologizes but her apology comes out as a drone. Her parents promise that this won't happen again. And then they're dismissed.

And as Starlo is leaving with his parents, who are still fretting over him, he looks over his shoulder and sees one of Ceroba's parents give her a sharp tug on the ear and say something that has her flinching. And he just. Feels awful for her. Even though she'd made his life hell from the moment he met her.

And the next day, he shows up for lunch with an extra sandwich in his bag and gives it to her and is like, "If I knew you were hungry, I wouldn't have gotten mad at you for taking my lunch." And Ceroba is like, "You dummy, I wasn't taking your lunches because I was hungry." But accepts it anyways because her parents sent her to bed without dinner last night as punishment so she's hungry. And in the span of a week, their friendship evolves into genuine camaraderie. Starlo drags Ceroba over to his house to hang out and his parents are like, "Hey, isn't that the girl who was bullying you?" And Starlo is like, "Yeah but we're over it now. We made friendship bracelets together during arts and crafts, see?" And Solomon and Crestina just roll with it. Every time someone harasses Starlo like she used to, Ceroba beats them up/drives them off and is like, "Don't listen to those losers when they say things like that, they're a bunch of idiots who don't know better. You're amazing, Starlo."

Starlo was the one to teach Ceroba kindness and that she didn't have to be like her parents. Without Starlo in her life, Ceroba would have been a much colder, crueler person. And likewise, Ceroba helped instill Starlo with enough confidence in himself that he was willing to explore his passions and open up the Wild East despite the naysayers. Without Ceroba in his life, Starlo would have been working on the family farm, not content with his life and hiding his interest in westerns from the rest of the world. Their friendship made both of them better people.

[tarotwithdanise]

What qualities do you bring in a relationship?

1 - 2 - 3

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PILE ONE

Right off the bat, you will bring harmony with this relationship. It's like you were the one who will balancing this relationship, I see that you will going to mirror each other most of the time. You maybe bring this possessiveness and jealously towards your partner when they're with others, well that's okay though and that's valid. Your love language is maybe act of service and physical - you were probably like helping them out with their garden or cleaning their house windows. Also, sitting alone in a couch just feeling each other or holding hands while waiting for sun to rise. There's a lot of things can be happening between the two of you when you are alone. As well, with the hermit card here this talks to me that you two prefer to have an alone time, like discussing about your future plans, getting to know each other more and etcetera to build a strong romantic relationship with them.

Your partner probably likes your jokes, you might be a jokester. You were type of individual who is happy as clam, you enjoy every moments you will have with them perhaps that you maybe someone who is likely resist of change? yeah change, you kinda afraid of changes. I see that almost of your all your cards talks about ‘stability and security’, so I'm not quite sure where this insecurities you have for this relationship come from? where your partner make sure to love and give you the best care as they can. It may not be perfect but atleast they're trying their best, maybe from your past? You are like all in one package, you will bring flaws and good points for this relationship to build stronger and longer as you can.

PILE TWO

The first thing I noticed with your traits is that you have this motherly nature, regardless to your gender. You also like to initiate the conversation with your partner, you probably nourish every romantic relationship you have or will going to have. You also like to explore things or other places, it's soothing for you. And maybe you may want to travel with your partner in every places, cities or countries someday. I do see here you like get aways, you and your partner will be like best buddies at the same time lovers.

They will learn many things from you and so they do too from you. While, if you are single currently you are ready to mingle or if not, you are open with any romantic connection. I also feel, you were type of individual and lover where you like to fit-in with your person standards, like you were trying your best to be your person ‘ideal type’ in reality. You will also make your person as whole and complete individual. You will make them the best person on the earth. I do feel here for this pile the first up until the last seconds, you will love your person is about strong and unconditional love. Like a beautiful flower growing, the more it's grows the pretty and blooming it is.

You probably thinking that every person that come on your way is important. You were also a fighter or maybe someone who is ready to fight who everyone that will try to come across with your relationship. You don't give a f*ck about will others people will says about your relationship you have with your partner. You are good at starting conversations, you are not afraid to tell what's in your mind ; someone who can be very honest. You are charismatic and nurturing person that makes your (every) partner to fall in love with you way deeper.

PILE THREE

This is somewhat a heavy spread. Okay, you maybe feeling unlucky when it comes to love and it seems like you are not yet ready to take risk and embrace change, you are waiting for change to come but you aren't taking the first step to continue your journey when it comes your relationship with others. You are not going with the flow as your Guides and Angels wanted you to do so, it seems like you are just sitting there and waiting for change to come. Changes when it comes to love won't come on your way if you are not taking any actions for it, the possibilities of you getting on a relationship keeps delaying and delaying by itself.

You not even trying yourself to keep learning, you are putting boundaries, restricting and trapping yourself in a cell of negativity which is stopping you to start a new beginnings. Well, about the qualities you bring in a relationship? You will be a great partner to them. Someone who is willing to give everything all of they have with their partner. Aside from that, you may have trust issues and lead a relationship like be a dominant. You prefer a partner who is under to you rather than you will be under to them in a good or bad way because that's depend on you. I also do see here that you are finding someone who is sharing the same interest, hobbies and mindset like yours.

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