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[nonranghaes]

"i bought something today." you step into chris's makeshift studio, bag hidden behind your back. "do you wanna see?"

chris looks up, tugging at the edge of his beanie. he clicks a few things, then turns to face you fully. "sure! is it another bath bomb? because last time was really relaxing, and i wouldn't mind cuddling--"

"it's not," you stop him, then pause for a second. "... but i'll keep that in mind next time i'm at the store. so." you pull the bag out from behind your back, reaching in to reveal the ugliest little plushie chris has ever seen. it's this brown scorpion with heart-shaped eyes, and it looks more dopey than cute, but chris knows you. he knows you saw it and fell in love with how dumb it looks. the tiny smile you're giving him now is proof enough. "... well?"

"he's kinda ugly," he says with a slow nod, as if appraising him like a piece of art.

you just smile bigger, brighter than before. "i know, right?!" you toss him over to chris, who catches him with relative ease. "he was on sale. i think he was some sort of valentines day plushie that someone pawned for a couple bucks. i just couldn't resist snagging him since he was marked down even further."

"did you name him?"

"nah," you lean in, pressing a quick peck against his cheek before making your way over to the couch. "left that up for you. i like when you name things."

"well," chris sets the plushie into his lap. "i love him. i'll get back to you on the name, yeah?"

"yeah, yeah," you sprawl out on the couch, phone in hand. "i'm gonna stay in here for a bit. that fine?"

he nods, already pulling his headphones back on. "might have you listen to something later for feedback," he says, settling back into his chair. "but sure. i work better when you're around."

"sap."

he smiles to himself as he presses play. he is. he's your sap.

[dcxdpdabbles]

DCxDP fanfic idea: Corporate Rivals

Bruce is really excited to hire a boy genius from a small time town. He found him by accident while scrolling through some creative writing competition past winners on various school sites. He originally wanted ideas for his own contest for the annual Wayne Young Writers Scholarship when he stumbled up Amity Parks Youth Authors.

Daniel Fenton's science fiction had won second place, and Bruce thinks he only lost due to the judges not realizing all the science of the gadgets his charaters used were real. Real, well explain and proper research. Daniel obviously knew his stuff and knew it well.

He had reached out to Daniel with a science scholarship opportunity, wanting to see what he would come up with. He gave him a basic assignment asking him to fulfill a prompt "Software or Hardware development for disabled" in either theory or model. If he created something worthwhile, Bruce would send him ten grand.

Daniel did not disappoint, not only doing the theory paper but also sending back a prototype of a pocket ASL translator. It would be an app on a phone that would have an AI watching through a camera of the person doing sign language and say out loud what the person was saying. It had a few bugs here and there, but for a high schooler, those were very impressive accomplishments.

Bruce found himself sponsoring the boy for early high school graduation. The young Fenton boy was a genius just like his parents, but he lacked proper motivation. Bruce suspected it was due to his school not challenging him enough much like Tim.

When Daniel got his diploma Bruce offered a few rid to Gotham University with the condition he would be a employee at WE. Daniel agreed under the condition it was as a proper employee and not a unpaid intern. A little daring for a kid getting already a amazing deal but Bruce liked his moxy and agreed.

Daniel Fenton was to be a worker in the RD department for WE tech in one week.

He couldn't wait to introduce him to Tim. Two young geniuses would get along swimmingly with their shared brain prowess!

______________________________________

Tim hated the new guy.

They were the same age, but everyone acted like he was amazing for finishing high school and starting university while also being a top WE reseacher and Devloper at such a young age.

Oh Tim was CEO, but as many people have whispered, he didn't graduated Highschool or have a GED so the only reason he got to be CEO was because of nepotism. Danny on the other hand got his position through hard work.

Which was ironic, seeing as the company has never done so well since Tim came on board. Their sales, PR, and production numbers all tripled because of him. Danny, on the other hand, was a sloth with little to no ambition. He didn't even work well with others! He mostly did solo projects and everyone seemed fine with that since genius "need their own space"

Tim has been networking since he was three years old, and failure to do so had always reflected badly on him and his company. He spent his entire life careful choosing his words and his actions. Even his appearance, what he wore, his hairstyle even the hand gesture when he talked, were planned before hand.

Then comes Fenton, who avoids crowds, dressed in the worst formal wear Tim has ever seen . Black jeans were not formal!- and acted like this important office was just a after school hang out spot. Now Tim was much more laid back than his board co-workers, who were all in their fifties or older, and even more relax then the mangers or superiors of lower stations but even he could not understand Fenton blaring music, bags of chips lingering everywhere and his ordination skills were none existing!

Not to mention the fact Daniel didn't believe in using computers unless he had to. His office was covered in towers of paper that he scribbled and work on! It was such a waste!

And yet, despite all of that, Daniel was rapidly becoming an asset to WE. His ASL translator app wasn't finished, but it had everyone buzzing with excitement and would be well received when it was released with Wayne Phones as a built in app.

Tim tried to avoid him as best he could least he get offended by his lack of work proper behavior

Daniel Fenton did not understand what it meant to put your all into something that you lost yourself along the way. Best to ignore him.

________________________________________

Danny couldn't stand his company CEO. Timothy Drake reminded him a little too much of the A-listers but without the bulling bit. Somehow, that made it worse.

Timothy was popular because he was well liked. He didn't need to relay on his good looks or aggression to make other yeild to him like Paulina or Dash. Even if he was ridiculously good looking to the point, Danny confused him for a siren when he met him.

He had the ability to walk into any room and take command if it. Timothy didn't even need to speak, his very presence commanded attention and awe. Not to mention how great he was at his job.

WE had always been a popular corporation but under Timothy's command they rose to one of the most important corporations in the world. Bruce Wayne was raised to run a company, Timothy Drake was born to run it. There was a large enough difference between the two that anyone could see Timothy was superior at running things.

Danny was nothing like that. He couldn't talk to people, couldn't make them like him, and often he was overlooked for his sister or his wacky but loveable parents.

He was the other Febton. The one that was there and nothing else. A few months ago he was even considered the dumb Fenton, who somehow was skipped over for intelligence.

Then he wrote a little story and everything changed.

Danny turned out to be a proper Fenton, after all, having gotten the attention of Bruce Wayne for his mind. His parents haven't been so proud of him in a long time, and he found himself accepting the job position after graduating high school early before he knew it.

Along with the job came a move to Gotham city. He went after debating it a great deal with his family and friends, but the deal was too sweet to turn down. Now he was in Gothem and he knew absolutely no one.

Danny didn't know how to make new friends here. Tucker and Sam had been the ones to approach him at the beginning of their friendships. He also was scared of getting close to his co-worker less they suspect his Phantom powers.

He knew that Metas was not welcome, and he thought Batman wouldn't care that he was technically dead and not with a meta gene.

So he focused on his work, avoiding large crowds and keeping his head down. He would turn on music to help pass the loneliness and would gater papers to write down his thoughts less they made him mad by running around his head all day.

This anxious insecurity was something Timothy Drake would never understand. He just shone like a fallen star, dazzling the masses with his neat press suits, easy charisma, and intelligent bedroom eyes. Best to ignore him.

________________________________________

Dick never really ventured to WE now that he moved out. He made a habit of trying to visit Tim every two weeks for lunch to fix this. He also really wanted to spend more one on one time with his little brother now that they reconsidled from Bruce's timeline fiasco.

He was still well known by the employees, even new ones, so when Dick arrived to the lobby he was waved in by security. The receptionists were all huddled together muttering to eachother and missed his entrance since security didn't call out to him.

Dick could tell the gossip they were talking about was juicy based on the way Lola was wiggling her eyebrows and Stacy and Isaiah's reaction.

He creeps closer to the front desk, hoping to hear something good.

"Isn't that against the rules?" Isaiah asks.

"WE doesn't have anything like that. Not since Thomas Wayne married his old PA and had Bruce. I think it's cute that Mr.Drake is following in his adoptive Grandfather's footsteps."

Dick paused, shocked. Tim liked someone at WE!?

"They aren't even dating yet, Lola"

"Yeah but you can cut the sexual tension with a- Mr. Grayson! I'm so sorry, I didn't see you. How can I help you?"

Dick blinks. "Oh I'm here to see Tim for lunch. But what was that about Tim you were saying?"

The woman pales as the other two quickly become busy with some email or another.

"Oh, um, I'm so sorry, sir. I shouldn't have -"

"It's fine I don't mind a little chat between co-workers. I'm just curious"

Lola stares before nervously blurting "Rumor has it that um, Mr.Drake has a thing for Daniel Fenton"

"The new boy genius?" Dick thinks about it considering what he knows of Tim's type and his past preferences in partners before nodding "That tracks actually"

He says his thanks and hurries away to Tim's office unaware he may have confirmed a relationship between Tim and Danny.

The gossip circles in WE exploded with the news everyone careful not to let the two subjects hear a whisper.

[anadiasmount]

as time gets close - jude bellingham x reader.

quick sum: almost close to your due date, what is wrong with a late-night grocery trip with your very excited and anxiously waiting fiance?

wc: 1.8k | masterlist | jude's masterlist

psa 🗣️: a little dad! jude blurb bc we haven’t seen much of this on the timeline!! like always hope you enjoy 🤍

"why are you bending down? you know that is bad for you," you rolled your eyes at your fiance's scolding, grabbing the keys from the floor. "i dropped the keys by accident," you say as you pick the correct key that belonged to the lock. jude rubbed your belly, ensuring you were okay before helping you out to the car, the reusable bags tucked underneath his arm.

"did you bring the list?" you ask him seeing as he nods and pulls it out from the pockets of his hoodie. "i did. i also brought you some snacks because you didn't eat much after getting some nausea," you pouted your lips leaning up to peck his cheek thanking him. "what would i do without you?" you tease, a playful scoff falling from his lips.

"what makes you think you'd be without me? i'm attached to you for life remember?" he grabs your left hand kissing over your ring finger as he gives you a knowing look. you feel as he brings your intertwined hands to your belly, "and you're carrying my baby in there."

"really i couldn't tell," you say sarcastically.

"let's make it quick because my feet already hurt and i want to sleep," you advised letting out a tired yawn. despite being close to your due date, you still had some work to do before maternity leave. making calls to set meetings, attending them over zoom, filing paperwork, in charge of making sure the firm doesn't backfire, and planning some stuff out for your wedding.

jude had told you multiple times to take it easy, but placing that aside, he always helped you unconditionally. in the shower, when cooking, taking care of chores, before bed, and attending all your doctor's appointments. he was your personal midwife and wanted to take care of you the most he could.

you remembered to look on his face when you told him you were expecting, the tears on his face as he spoke to your barely bump all night and traced his hands on your belly. singing and humming lullabies and stories about his day. since then he wanted to protect you the best he could.

going to the grocery store at this time was nothing new, in fact, it became so prevalent now that you were pregnant because you craved everything. making jude do a late run to pick up your cravings or groceries for the upcoming weeks. the same store, at the same time.

you placed your purse on the cart, snuggling into your jacket as the cold air inside the store blew you away. you followed jude who picked out veggies and greens for his meal prepping, helping him tie the bags and weigh them on the digital scale that produced labels. you watched in awe as your boyfriend picked out three pairs of different flowers. "what are these for?" you asked, smelling the flowery scent.

"for the house. we need to replace the old ones that dried out," jude says with a shy grin. "you were the one who said plants and flowers bring a sense of home into our house, " jude recalled your words, kissing your temple, pushing the cart since it became a bit heavier. "i did say that didn't i? well i wasn't wrong," you shrug, wrapping a hand around his bicep as he trailed along isles to pick up the different items on the list.

he did all the heavy lifting as you reached and picked stuff up from your level, like spices and eggs. you turn your back for a few seconds to retrieve some milk and coffee beans for the morning, to see the cart filled with pop tarts and other salty snacks. "no no no," you shake your head, as jude whines out protests. "y/n we need them! they're even on sale!"

“jude, i don’t care! we just got some three days ago!,” you say laughing, putting back the box of pop tarts. “y/n i’m telling you right now, in a couple of hours or days you’re gonna have me running back here for them,” jude states following behind you.

“am not!” you quickly defend, bringing a hand to your aching back. “are too! last night you had me running out for cheetos. what’s it going to be today? kettled popcorn? or wingstop?” jude teased making you rolls your eyes and focusing back on to what needed to get done. “don’t forget we need to pick some of that acid reflex stuff for you, to get rid of the heartburn,” jude reminds you, taking the cart and walking out of the pop tarts isle, sneaking a box in for you.

“what’s left on the list?” you ask him, taking out a small snack you had in your purse and offering some to jude. “we need bananas, strawberries, orange juice, and meats for upcoming dinners…” jude reads the list one by one, using his index finger as he goes along.

you pass by an isle grabbing some cereal and granola for your yogurts and bowls. jude insisting he grabs his favorite too since you refuse to share from your part. as you wait by the deli section jude come behind you, grabbing your belly and relieving some of the pressure.

you immediately lay your head back on his shoulder sighing in relief, hearing jude chuckle and place a kiss on your head. “almost there darling,” he whispered running one of his hands along your tummy. “i know what you’re doing jude… and if this baby starts kicking right now i’ll leave you here,” you warn.

“i’m just trying to help you love. doesn’t it feel good?” he reprimanded as you nodded. “yes but not when she starts kicking, i swear she does it on purpose and it’s your fault. like she knows it you,” you said feeling your lower back less tense and heavy. "i kid you not, last night she almost made me pee from this hard kick!"

"sounds to me like we have a mini footballer coming into our lives," said jude continuing to hold your belly since you were tired and your baby was heavy. he had read the method online with other tips and tricks. jude got more into reading when he found out you were pregnant, wanting to know every effect and secret to ensure a healthy and safe pregnancy.

"let's hope not, i don't think i could handle cleaning up broken stuff around the house every day," you sigh, releasing yourself from his hold because you began to get hot. you didn’t understand how your body was so quick to adjust and then de-adjust from hot and cold, but it was so easy and it drove you mad sometimes.

“you okay?” jude softened his eyes as you let out a breath of despair, holding your hand and feeling a sit squeezed tightly against his. “yeah just got a mini cramp,” you held your back and practiced breathing methods you learned, “i’m good, i promise,” you kiss his hand before retrieving the meats from the butcher. "we'll get home soon, and i promise you a warm tea and massage okay?"

"did you want chocolate or strawberry milk?" jude held up the pint containers, "strawberry, we still have chocolate milk at home," you said, jude nodding as he quickly picked the orange juice and your favorite yogurts. "i was never a fan of sweet or flavored milk but these are soooo good," you exaggerated, jude smiling hard down at you.

"never a fan? these were my childhood as a kid! my mum used to buy these or the powder to make it ourselves," jude says recalling a old memory thinking of his babygirl. "you reckon she'll like them too?" jude spoke softly as he saw you give him a fast nod. if there was one thing loved it was discussing his babygirl. he was so anxious and wanted to meet her. the itch in his teeth getting bigger as every day passes.

to hold her while she slept, hug her to keep her warm, coddle her to sleep, feed her. he was ready for it all. he loved to shop and spoil her already. her carrier, crib, different books, toys, and stuffed animals like he had as a kid. she didn't know it yet, but she would be jude's second best friend. firstly you. always you.

they saw if one ever finds love at first sight, and jude definitely did with you. a smile so bright, eyes gleaming with happiness, a stranger who he fell madly with almost immediately after hearing her say hello. through ups and downs, you found your way to each other and since then, it's a love story for the movies. jude had his career blowing, a beautiful fiancee, and now a baby on the way. what more could he want?

as jude helped bag the groceries into the recycled bags you had, you paid and thanked the cashier whom you got close with on nights like these. asking how her day was, about her kids, anything special, always something to distract her. "you two have a safe night!" she yelled as you turned and thanked, wishing her a good night as well.

after you insisted on helping, you carried four light bags as jude carried most bags since he hated double trips. you guys quickly unpacked everything, longing and wishing to get into bed. you ensure the stove and other appliances are off, grabbing your tea and heading upstairs with jude.

"lay here for me," jude instructed, grabbing some cream and begging to smooth and massage out the muscles on your legs and shoulders. "after we have her, i promise i'll return every single thing you did for me while i was pregnant," you say struggled and full pleasure as the tension went away at jude's fingertips. "oh i'm fully expecting the injured boyfriend method again," jude teased as he finished up.

he grabbed a new book, laying on your side as you brushed and played with a few curls on his head, twirling them around your finger as he breathed softly. he looked so gentle and full of excitement like this, reading to your babygirl, who sensed her daddy's voice as she kicked. she knew, she always knew.

he applied your belly oil to prevent any stretch marks and kissed the small ones that formed along the way. jude cherished your body for carrying his baby in there, for being able to give and bring a new life into his and yours. you laid on your side, jude's chest connecting and fitting the crevasse on your back, holding your tummy as in a way to keep it safe.

you placed and locked hands with his, as jude wishing you a goodnight, peering kissed on your shoulders then finally lips, moaning in delight, a tiny groan leaving his lips. "i love you so much darling," he whispered, kissing your temple and snuggling into you more. "iloveyoutoojude," you said fast, with a playful smile on your lips as you felt a familiar sensation of a certain craving. "okay now i do want some pop tarts..."

"are you serious right now?"

[raitonsfw]

𝟸𝟻𝟶 𝟶𝟶𝟶 𝚢𝚎𝚗 𝚕𝚊𝚌𝚎 | 𝚐𝚘𝚓𝚘 𝚜𝚊𝚝𝚘𝚛𝚞 ꨄ

𝓈𝓎𝓃𝑜𝓅𝓈𝒾𝓈: Gojo was a big fucking spender, whether you liked it or not. Almost every clothing item he owned ranged well over the price of 150 000 yen, even his shoes; sometimes those were more expensive. Coming home one day from work, there’s a pink gift bag (complete with a lil bow and all) sitting pretty on the ottoman for you. As you opened it, black expensive lace peeked back at you and so did the price, zeros going on for miles on the tiny tag.

warnings: 18+ mdni, smut, fem!reader, boyfriend!gojo, rich!gojo, dirty talk, lingerie (and the tearing of it), grinding (if you squint), fingering, cunnilingus, slight breeding kink, p in v intercourse, creampie, insecurity (about how much gojo spends), corny pick up lines, sayings, & jokes, pet names (sweetheart, baby, angel, pretty, princess, good girl), lovedrunk, feral, & pussywhipped gojo (man loves you, would hang the moon for you fr), a surprise near the end (i said he loves you goddammit)

a/n: happy february 1st (finally can say it without the queue messing up my schedule) anyway, here's my second valentine for you loves! i hope you enjoy, until next week! 💌 wc: 3.4k. v-day m.list | m.list

a/n pt 2: p.s. i'm such a sucker for writing gojo kinda cringey. alsoo its not my best work but i did what i could!

divider credit: @hitobaby & @firefly-graphics

Coming home was the biggest mistake you had made in your entire life, because what the fuck was this? Your fingers held up a piece of lace material, black in color and you puzzled at it as you noticed that the lingerie piece barely looked as though it’d cover anything; thanks to your million dollar boyfriend.

“It’s gorgeous, huh?” You heard his promiscuous voice ring out through the living room at just the right time, when your voice cursed him to the high heavens. You nearly jumped out of your skin, the lingerie falling near your feet and you turned quickly to face him, his hip popped against the doorframe.

“Satoru!” Your face was bright red, the blush spreading down your neck and you hid your face underneath your sweatshirt sleeve with a scowl. Gojo was in his usual sorcerer uniform, complete with the black blindfold covering the vivid blue and you still tried to shy away from him even though you knew you couldn’t. Not when his eyes saw all, saw the way yours glistened at the thoughtful gift.

“Hey sweetheart. Like the gift?” 

“I told you not to buy me any more lingerie…” You huffed, glancing at the tag as you went to put the set back in the bag. There was an infinite amount of zeroes littering the price tag and you almost dropped the lingerie piece again– in utter shock that the fucking price was over 250,000 yen. “Oh my God…”

“Oh, please. I know you, you don’t wear lingerie sets more than twice. And last time I checked, I tore the last one.” He smirked, walking towards you with a tiny skip in his step and your hands trembled as you smoothed the lace over with your delicate fingers. “Besides, your favorite store was having a Valentine’s Day sale and I just had to have you in that.” 

Right, it was Valentine’s Day soon. 

“A sale?! This doesn’t look like a price tag for a sale. More like someone’s monthly rent, -toru.” You frowned, feeling Gojo’s strong arms fold underneath your waist and he took the fabric in his hands. Unfurling it from its tangled confines, he draped it over you with a gentle hum of a tune evading your surroundings.

“Hold it like that for me.” Gojo murmured as he stepped around you, standing in front of you while checking behind him as he backed up slightly. He focused on you, his fingers coming up to ‘snap a picture’ and you blushed profusely when you saw the dopey smile that mustered up on his face. Your blush turned into another scowl though as you remembered the price of it, how could he just spend money so fruitlessly?

Gojo lifted his blindfold for a few seconds to glance at your figure; you could see the gears turning in his head and you wouldn’t be very surprised if he sprouted an erection right then and there. But he also noticed your glowering eyes and his lighthearted demeanor faded away, a worried look washing over his face.

“What’re mad for, baby? I wasn’t going to pass up the chance to spoil you.” 

“You spend so much on me, I’m not worth that much.” You muttered, starting to fold the lingerie set to put it back in the bag; away and out of sight from you.

You usually liked Gojo’s sweet gestures, gifts piled at your doorstep like it was Christmas every month normally but this time it just seemed a bit out of place– you knew him to flaunt his wealth alot but this? He’s never gotten you something so expensive. You couldn’t accept such a generous gift that would be soiled within minutes of wearing it.

“Excuse me? Where’d you learn that crazy talk from?” Gojo said with an exasperated gasp, coming to embrace you and you didn’t answer him as he pulled you close. His hands feathered through your hair and honestly you couldn’t breath through the fabric of his jacket, the turtleneck part of it threatening to strangle you as he squeezed himself around you in a tight hug.

“Don’t ever think that! I would buy the world for you if I could manage to fit it inside a gift box.” 

You couldn’t help but laugh into his chest, his words souring after they sat for a minute. “That was so cringey, Satoru.” 

“You still love me though, perks of being me… I think?” Gojo let go of you, holding you by your shoulders now and you reached up to slip his blindfold fully off. He blinked through the dimness of the apartment, his eyes fixating on you once more. 

There was something that just made you feel so in love with him, everytime you managed to zero in on those hypnotic eyes of his– almost every bad thought melted away and yeah, you were definitely overreacting. 

Let the man spoil you, if he so wishes.

“Yes, I still love you.” You fonded, planting a luscious kiss against his lips and he had no qualms, his mouth instantly moving against you eagerly. Gojo softly moaned into the kiss, one of his hands snaking down your back towards your ass and you squeaked out as he gave you a tiny swat against the plushness of it.

“Great, now go try on the lingerie.” Thrusting the bag back into your hands, he grinned at you and there was no way in hell you could deny him– not with the way he looked, so ecstatic to see you in the precious lace garments he bought you.

Putting it on wasn’t much of a struggle, it fit you nicely in all the right places. The full length mirror did you just enough justice, staring back at a body that had devious curves and everything in between the skimpy lace that barely covered your intimates. You weren't all that self conscious, though you weren’t sure what you’d do once you were in front of Gojo. Where would he look first? 

Would his eyes lay against your breasts that bobbed in the lace, perched up prettily or would they drag to your soft thighs, cuffed in the garter belt holding up the thigh highs that accented the set? Would they focus on your mound and in the middle, your drenched pussy staining the thin fabric or would he drool over everything all at once? 

“Baby… Are you done yet? I’m getting lonely.” You heard him mewl outside the door, a soft tap from his knuckle echoing through the bathroom and you nodded to yourself, adjusting little bits and pieces of the thread to make sure it sat perfectly for him. 

You paused with your hand on the doorknob. Why were you so goddamn nervous? 

“You have it on? C’mon, let me see already.” 

As you opened the door, Gojo wasn’t in front of it anymore. Instead, he was seated on the lavish sofa that met in the center of the room, his head lying lazily against the back of it with his arms extended. His thighs were spread apart on the cushions, his legs folding outwards and you could already see a lush bulge in his trousers, peaked with interest as he waited impatiently for you. You wanted to skip the shame of twirling for him and just sit yourself right against it, sit yourself down on it and just–

Gojo’s head snapped up– he must’ve sensed you– and his bright eyes zeroed in on your face first. Then they trailed down towards your body, drinking in the adorned curves of the lingerie on you and his mouth fell open in a quiet sigh. “Y/N…” 

You walked towards him, a small sway to your step and his hands pressed down against the sofa as you neared him. They nearly white knuckled it, his mouth still open and his eyes flickering over every crevice of the threads decorating you– his knees had quickly pressed together and you’ve never seen him so flustered in your entire life. Sure, you’ve modeled for him here and there with other gorgeous sets; but this was different. 

Was this your Satoru? The ego induced maniac who could and would knock you off your feet with a single flirtatious remark? It was refreshing to see him like this– reduced to nothing but boyish clouded lust.

“You going to say something other than my name, baby?” You asked, pureness reining your voice and you purred inwardly when he was still speechless. You eyed at the seam of his trousers, noticing the way it tented up considerably just from a few seconds of gazing you over. “Satoru?” 

“Hi, yes sorry. Come here.” Gojo’s hand faltered slightly as he reached for you and you happily obliged, straddling his lap. A low hum escaped him as you sat flush with his clothed cock against your heat, his legs spreading apart again to let you sink down onto him comfortably. “Holy hell, is this heaven ‘cause you look like–” 

“So help me if you finish that sentence, I’ll take this off.” You interrupted, getting ready to move off of him but his hands grasped your hips greedily. 

“That’s what I’m hoping for, angel.” A naughty grin crept up on his face as he pulled you into a warm kiss. Yeah, it’s definitely your Satoru.

His tongue slid past your lips easily and his eyes slipped shut, drawing you closer to him– faintly aware of the slickness that roughed up his trousers. You bit his lip seductively and a startled moan spilled into your mouth heavily, his hips subtly rocking up into you. It was needy and desperate and everything you ever wanted to hear and feel from him, because of course he was already riled up– just look at you.

His fingers looped inside the lace of your panties, rubbing his fingertips against the seams of it and you hummed as they curved towards the where you needed it most. His other hand fondled your breast, the flesh of it spilling out over the cups and all he wanted to do was press a tender kiss to your nipple, sucking it in between his teeth to nip and tug til it reddened with overstimulation. 

“Are you going to touch me or…” You shook him from his daze, earning a sarcastic snort from him.

You moaned quietly as his hand immediately slipped underneath the fabric, toying with your nipple until it hardened and a gentle finger swiped through the slick that collected inside your panties. He tsked, “Already ruining the lace, so filthy…” 

You let out a tiny huff, intending to apologize when two of his fingers sunk through your arousal and you leaned into him with a whimper. Gojo didn't hesitate to mark up your neck as soon as you moved forward, his teeth grazing alongside the nasty bruises and your hips jutted out as he expertly curled his digits into you. You whined into his ear– a glorious symphony if he must say so himself– and his thumb pressed into the swell of your clit. Sucking a languid hickey against the near front of your neck, he noticed you had started to move against him– fucking your perfect cunt down onto his pliant fingers.

Every roll of your hips, his cock got some action as well; as your clit rubbed against the tip of his cock that threatened to burst out of his trousers now. Holy fuck, he was straining too– he knew you could feel it as you sat right against it. He was losing his train of thought more and more by the second as you panted out, he needed more– so much more, his dick was nearly crying as it leaked out tiny droplets of precum in his boxers. If you weren’t so lost in pleasure at the moment, you would’ve noticed the small wet spot forming in the fabric– his jujutsu uniform’s probably going to need to be dry cleaned.

He would finish his pick up line if he could speak, his voice not quite there anymore– you looked like a heaven sent angel veiled in the lingerie of a hell spawned devil. 

From his angle, Gojo could see the swell of your ass lightly jiggling, the lace barely covering it and the flesh of your thighs sat beautifully against his own and honestly he couldn’t take it anymore. He needed you, his vision blackening with lust as you worked yourself fully open on his fingers now. His cock ached so fucking badly and he vaguely noted to get you crotchless lingerie next time so he could just slide right in without needing to fumble with the weird straps. 

When your breath hitched in your throat as your clit spasming directly against the frenulum of his cock, his tip desperately trying to dip into the lace through his thick fucking clothing– he lost it.

“Fuck it…” You heard him growl against your laced breast as he popped it out of its cup, the entire bralette tearing on impact. You gasped at the ripping sound, but you were too delirious to scold him as his fingers started fucking faster into you to keep you quiet about the torn lingerie. Gojo snagged your nipple in his mouth with a frantic moan, his fingers coated with slick as he pulled them out quickly to tear off your panties. They shedded easily and you were left with remnants of lace pristine against your body, another gasp coming from you as you realized what he did.

“-toru, what are you–?!” 

Before you could finish your sentence, your entire figure was thrown against the cushions of the sofa and his shirt and trousers were stripped from his body. His eyes were trained on your ripped lingerie and you couldn’t quite figure out what was going on in his head until he yanked the rest of it off, excluding your thigh highs. And now you were exposed in front of him and he was out 250,000 yen; because he just couldn’t keep his composure.

“I’ll buy you another set, I swear– though I can’t guarantee it’ll survive…” Gojo said under his breath, planting kisses down the span of your chest. He trailed them towards your tummy, innate circles rubbing into your hips and he shuddered at how the garter belt sat snug against your waist– and how easy it was to tear off, his teeth latching on it with fervor. You gasped as you felt the band snap, your thigh highs falling  down slightly where they sat as they were no longer held up by the precious lace. 

He grabbed the extra lace from his mouth and threw it somewhere across the room, his tongue immediately delving into your tight heat. A broken whine was coaxed from your throat as he fucked it in and out needily, quiet pants breathing over your cunt. Gojo’s hands grabbed at your thighs, pressing his nose straight into your clit as he lapped at everything he could reach and you couldn’t help the wanton moans that leaked from your mouth, your hands grasping at his snowy hair.

He was downright animalistic at this point. You carved his shoulder blades with your nails, desperate for him to drive you over the edge; your impending orgasm making your legs tremble. “Satoru, shit– c-close…”

“C’mon, cum for me, pretty.” He murmured into your cunt, slightly muffled and you keened up into his mouth– ultimately fucking yourself on his tongue. And God, did he groan at that; his hums of utter satisfaction basically sent you spasming through your climax. Your hands flew to the edge of the sofa, clutching tightly as you rolled your hips into the insane pleasure– into his mouth that lapped up every drool of arousal that leaked out from your convulsions. He was vain with it too, looping out his fucking name against your folds to claim you as you whimpered his name.

“T-Take me with you to shop next time.” You managed out as you sat up on your elbows, looking down at him while you came down from your high. “I’ll decide what you can and can’t rip.” 

Gojo tutted out a laugh, coming up to hover over you– his chin glinted with your juices and you reddened at the sight of how goddamn needy you were. “Fine, baby– now arch your back f’ me.”

His cock prodded your entrance, slender fingers wrapped around the base of it as he guided it into you greedily and you threw your head back against the arm of the sofa with a whine. You did exactly as he said; you arched your back into the intoxicating pleasure, his cock stretching you out and filling every bit of space you could give him. He fit perfectly within you everytime, which made you dizzy with lust as you hooked one hand around the back of his neck.

“Always take me so well, princess.” Gojo purred, not bothering to let you adjust as he started to snap his hips into you. “Fits like a glove, huh?” 

You were so sore already– from the last orgasm wreaking havoc– but you couldn’t get enough of his long cock drilling into you, every thrust kissing your cervix and making your walls clench around him with whimpers drowning out the riveting squelches. You managed to look up at him, his fingertips nudging into the plush of your thighs, against the sleek material of your thigh highs and you knew he wasn’t going to last very long. 

His eyes were already rolling back into his head at every fill of his cock dragging against your walls, his jaw slack and you were surprised at how pussy whipped he was– normally he’d watch you religiously writhe underneath him. His hair was disheveled as he ran his hand through it before frantically gripping your thigh again, panting out curses and you inadvertently squeezed hard around him at the action with a high pitched moan. 

“Oh– fuck, holy shit..! Keep squeezing me like that, we’re g-gonna have to go shopping–” Gojo groaned out, his cock pounding into you harder now, pleasure coursing through your entire body as he hit your sweet spot dead on. 

“F-For more lingerie?” 

“No, for a fucking crib.”

“Fuck, Satoru– faster.” You whined out, completely obsessed with the thought and you felt your second climax tremble through your thighs, straight towards the throbbing of your cunt. ‘Cum in me, -toru…please.”

Gojo didn’t answer you, too wrapped up in your pretty pussy with hefty moans pouring out of him and his fingers slipped down towards your clit. He rubbed circles against it, interchanging his angle to fuck you deeper, faster– and you could feel how close you were.

“Got another surprise for you on Valentine’s Day, baby…” He started babbling, his chest rising and falling as he rutted into you. His eyes slipped from his cock, creamy and wet from your arousal, to your eyes now. “Involves a little jewelry piece, think you’ll love it… Think you’ll love me even more.” 

You didn’t hear him though, too caught up in your release caving in every sense you had and replacing them with pure euphoria. You couldn’t fucking see, hear, even think as it overtook your body. You came so hard around his cock, clenching and unclenching which brought Gojo to his own release rather quickly. He stilled in you with a harsh whine and his eyes squeezed shut as he came in you, white ropes leaking out rather abruptly. 

He repeated soft praises like ‘good girl, take it all…’ and ‘gonna make sure none drools outta you, so good for me’ a few times in a needy tone, collapsing against your chest afterwards. Gojo buried his face into your neck, smoothing his hands over the thigh highs you had on. 

“I’m so sorry about the lingerie, Y/N…” He apologized, his eyes glancing up towards yours as he moved over to litter kisses on your cheek. “We’ll go shopping tomorrow, I promise. You’ll pick out your Valentine’s Day lingerie set and I’ll watch you model it for me–”

You interrupt him with a soft kiss, humming against his lips. “It wasn’t my money, it was yours, you idiot.”

Gojo blinked at you, then a mischievous look crossed his face. “How about a nice pink set this time? Frilly, rose hearts covering your perky nipples and–” 

“Satoru.”

a/n: wanna get tagged in future writing posts? join my taglist!

[lamentationsofalonelypotato]

It’s Not A Big Deal

Pairing: Soldier Boy x f!reader, Reader POV

Summary: Dean's in for a rude awakening when he finds out exactly what you did when you got stranded in another universe.

Tropes: Fluff, Frenemies (Dean and the Reader), Awkward Situation, Multiverse Problems.

Word Count: 3.1K (I promise I didn't mean for it to happen)

Warnings: I'm gonna label this 18+ just to be sure. There is some swearing (only a few times), Heated Kiss, Sexual Innuendo, References to Sex/Past Sex (it happens quite a bit). Soldier Boy being Soldier Boy (Everyone knows he’s a warning).

Note: This is told from Reader's perspective. Any references to the reader is made using you or your. There is minimal use of y/n. I tried my best to proofread, but nobody's perfect. If you don’t like, don’t read, but if you do like, you’re my favorite!

Internal monologue is in italics and is in first person

Main Masterlist

A/N: Okay I know that I should be working on my other fics, but I had this idea after reading an INCREDIBLE fic by @justagirlinafandomworld called "Stranded" for @jacklesversebingo and I couldn't help myself.

Sam squeals the car into the parking lot of the motel so loud that Dean and you can hear the high pitched scream of rubber on asphalt from your room on the second level.

"If he ruins those tires he's going to pay for them." Dean grumbles under his breath from where he sits at the small wooden table under the window, wiping down his gun with a clean rag. The sunlight that came streaming through dramatized the sharp angles of his jaw and the soft sleepy strands of his hair that still stuck up from when he woke up an hour ago.

"I don't know what his hurry is." You don’t look up from the worn paperback perched in your lap, gently turning the page. "If he's that eager to get back here to tell us something he should have just called."

“Maybe there was a sample sale on hair gel.” Dean laughs at his own joke and you can sense him look up from the gun to try and catch your eye, but you don't raise your gaze from the text.

“That’s pretty brave coming from someone who owns 90% of the products in that bathroom.”

“What? I do not-“

“Really? If I walk in there right now there won’t be seven different half-used deodorant sticks?”

“They’re different smells." Dean says defensively. "And shut up. I don’t comment on how many books you bring with you. Don’t know why you need to shove a million in your bag and then just buy one while you’re here.”

“Because I might not feel like reading the ones I bring. I might want to try something new. And this book,” You wave the book in your hand for emphasis. “Is very good and I don’t have it back at the bunker, and it was only two bucks!"

“But the others ones might be good too. You don’t know.” Dean sighs, looking at you like you're insane. "You just let them sit and rot in your suitcase."

Today was the last day that you would be staying in Louis, Illinois. The current case that the three of you had been working on together had been solved, which meant that the townsfolk were no longer dealing with a zombie outbreak and you were at peace to settle down on your pull out bed with a good book, taking a few moments for yourself.

You desperately needed at least five, but you also wished that you were already back in your room at the bunker.

The bed there didn't have as many springs that stuck into your back at odd angles and didn't squeak whenever you moved an inch. Your inability to find a comfortable position meant that the mattress squeaked all night long and Dean had thrown his pillow at you to make it stop. He hadn’t been pleased when you returned it back to him. Then again, you had hit him in the face with it as hard as you could when you did.

And like hell you were going to give Dean Winchester the satisfaction of sleeping in bed with him. You’d had to do that one time on a hunt where there were no extra rooms and Dean refused to let you sleep on the floor or in his car. He said that you might make it spontaneously combust.  So you'd shared the bed and learned that he was the biggest blanket hog you’d ever met, not to mention when you woke up he was spooning you and you couldn’t be certain, but you thought he had tried to cop a feel at least once.

If anything you’d maybe sleep in Sam’s bed, but the guy was so much bigger than you he took up most of the space, so you were stuck with the pull out couch.

You couldn't wait to be home. You liked going out on cases, but you liked that you had a home now, a space that was only yours, and someplace where you could shut yourself away from the world. And most importantly, away from Dean Winchester, who had been the bane of your existence since the night you met him for the first time.

Of course this wasn't too bad either. Taking a few moments of quiet for yourself while Dean cleaned his guns and sorted some of his tools in his duffle. The two of you were getting more comfortable around one another. When you’d first met there had been a lot of screaming and several "she's not going to be there is she?" and "what the hell is she doing here?" questions that Dean moaned to Sam over and over the more the three of you teamed up.

You weren't used to working with other people, well, now you were,  but before it had just been you and the endless road. But as it began to happen more and more you tried to fit comfortably into the swing of things. Dean and you would occasionally bump heads, but it happened less now than it did before. After five years you'd hoped that the two of you could be more civilized, for Sam's sake at least.

Sam and you got along much better. You didn't understand what Dean's problem was with you, or why he hated you so much. He was always correcting you, insulting you, and snatching things away from you as if you hadn't been hunting your entire life. Occasionally it wasn't that bad, like right now, but it had been much worse a few years ago.

When you'd met Dean you'd hated him, thought he was a dick, but the more the two of you spent time together on cases the more you saw that he did those things to hide what he was feeling and the more you saw how big his heart was.

You believed that your relationship now with him had progressed to a sort of symbiotic relationship, but honestly it was more like passive aggressive roommates who fight over whose turn it is to clean the dishes.

Dean still tended to get high and mighty sometimes and annoyed you without end, but you stuck around and in Sam's words "bickered like an old couple."

Sam had gone to grab some snacks and fill the tank at the gas station down the street twenty minutes ago, leaving with a joyful "Don't kill each other."

So far there were no casualties, but apart of you itched to beam Dean in the back of the head with the paperback just for a little bit of excitement.

Sam bursts into the room out of breath. "Okay I-"

"Where's the fire Sammy?" Dean sighs looking up from his gun.

"I ran into someone when I was at the gas station." Sam says it all together, as if it's one sentence.

"And?" You move your hand in a come on gesture hoping that Sam will get to the point.

"Well he's- he's-"

The man that pushes into the room past Sam is not Dean, he looks like him, but that's not why he's so familiar. He's muscular with dark brown hair that hangs a little longer than Dean's, over the top of his ears, while a few strands fall forward on his forehead. He's allowed a dark beard to cover his cheeks, but his eyes are the same piercing green that they were the last time you saw him. And if that wasn't enough for you to recognize him, the dark green superhero suit would be a dead giveaway.

Oh shit.

"Ben?" You drop your book onto the thick carpeted floor in surprise.

Two months ago you had been unwillingly transported to another reality, a reality where superheroes were real, people had powers, and where you met a version of Dean that you actually got along with better than the Dean in your reality.

You hadn't told Sam or Dean what happened between Ben and you. You weren't about to admit out loud that you actually got along with another version of Dean or admit that you found the other version of Dean aka Ben, attractive. So attractive in fact that you had spent a good amount of the time in the other universe in bed with him before you came back to your reality.

Ben doesn't respond, instead he crosses the room in several powerful strides, and hauls you up off the pull out couch.

"What are you-"

One of his hands tangles in the back of your hair, pulling your mouth against his in a furious kiss that steals your breath away and silences whatever you were going to say next. A part of you registers that Dean and Sam are still in the room, but it's quickly swept away by how it feels to kiss Ben. You hadn't forgotten him, anything but that. Sometimes you actually kind of missed him, when you were lonely or when the Dean from your universe annoyed you too much. Because Ben annoyed you too, but at least at the end of it there was a way to relieve the tension. With Dean the only place you put all your frustration was into the hunt and there were only so many times you could bash a Djinn’s head in.

Ben's tongue brushes against your bottom lip, begging for entrance, and you let him in, bringing your hands up to the back of his neck to thread into the long strands of his hair. The strands fall between your fingertips, feathering out from your grip. You moan softly into his mouth as he deepens the kiss, feeling the familiar scratch of his beard against your cheeks, and feel his hand begin to slip down your back to rest on the curve of your ass.

Well, he certainly hasn't changed.

"Fuck I missed you sweetheart." Ben murmurs against your mouth squeezing your butt to emphasize the point. "You and this sexy fucking body."

"Ben." You roll your eyes with a snort.

"What? You didn't miss me?" He raises an eyebrow, forcing his mouth into an attractive pout. "Because you certainly seemed happy to see me a second ago." His free hand gently traces your plump lower lip with the pad of your thumb.

"I did and I am happy to see you, but what are you doing here?"

"Thought so." Ben leans his head back down towards yours, ignoring your question as he tries to kiss you again, but before he can Dean interrupts.

"What the fuck is going on?" Dean shouts, standing from the table under the window, and points his gun at Ben's unprotected back. "Who the fuck are you?"

Ben half turns over his shoulder eyes flicking from the gun to Dean with a sigh. "Look the only thing that's gonna do is piss me off. And you don't want that kid."

Dean makes a face. "Who the hell are you calling kid?"

"Now why don't you two fuck off for a few hours, let me give her a proper hello." Ben turns his dark eyes back on you, cupping your chin in his large hand.

"Y/n? You want to tell us what's happening? Or who this guy is?" Sam asks, but you can't look away from Ben.

You really had missed him. Ben was even more attractive than you remembered. The day that you'd left his universe, Ben had asked you to stay, well, had asked you in his own way. He'd said that he wasn't done with you and if you had stayed he would have made it worth your while. But you had to come back. You weren’t sure how Dean and Sam would survive without you and also because the universe that Ben inhabited was more terrifying than yours, and that was saying something, given that you dealt with demons on a daily basis.

"Guys this is Ben." You clear your throat. "Ben this is Dean and Sam."

"Ben as in Soldier Boy? From the fucked up reality with the people with superpowers Ben?" Dean sputters. He lowered the gun slightly, but he's still looking from Ben to you like he's just walked in on his parents making out.

"Yes." You say it slowly, trying to find a way out, but there really isn't any way to hide this.

It's not that big a deal, is it?

Ben releases you and turns to look at Dean, eyes skating over his body. "So that's Dean?" He tilts his head to the side. "Kinda scrawny. The way you described him made me think he'd look a little more like a man and less like a fucking pussy."

"What the fuck did you just say to me?" Dean takes a step towards Ben, holding his gun steady out from his chest. You noticed that Dean did try to puff it out more after Ben's insult.

"You heard me." Ben smirks, welcoming the challenge.

"Whoa!" You step between them. "Calm down ladies there's enough Prada to go around at this sample sale."

Ben's eyes narrow in confusion at your comment, but he doesn't back down from Dean.

"I'd say that you left a few details out of your trip!" Dean shouts looking from Ben to you in disgust. "Did you sleep with me?"

"What?" You look at him like he’s crazy.

What does he mean?

"You, and him." Dean gestures wildly with the gun. "Did you sleep with me?"

"What are you talking about? No I didn't sleep with you, I slept with him and it was only once!" You shout back.

Ben clears his throat.

"Fine. A few times.” You correct with a sigh.

“But- you- him-“ Dean’s head turns from Ben to you. “Him- you-.”

“Yeah. Me and her fucked.” Ben says it slowly like Dean is a child.

Honestly he was acting a little bit like a child.

Sam is holding back his laughter behind a hand while Dean’s eye begins to twitch aggressively.

This is exactly why I didn’t tell him. They aren’t the same person! Dean is Dean and Ben is Ben. Someone who shares the same face. And probably the same other things that I’m not going to think about right now because that seems crazy.

"How many times is a few?” Dean demands.

"Why does that matter?”

"HOW MANY?" He shouts so loud that you think the people in the next room over were probably having a wonderful time listening to this soap opera.

Because it kinda did sound like one right? The main character never gets along with someone and then gets transported to another reality through a colorful portal and immediately clicks with another version of him. And-

Maybe I need to rethink my life.

"Well..." Your face scrunched up trying to count exactly how many times that you and Ben had sex. It was difficult. Not that it was hard to remember, you knew that you weren’t going to forget it anytime soon, but just the amount of times the two of you were together was more than you could count on your fingers.

"Well what? You were there for five days!"

"I mean..." You shrug.

“Why?” Dean groans pinching the bridge of his nose as if trying to scrub the images from his brain.

Honestly, if he’d told you that he had sex with another version of you, you probably would have had the same reaction, but you were not about to admit that to Dean Winchester of all people.

He’s not gonna win this argument. Especially not when he's waving his gun around like a psychopath.

“Because he's-“ You  glance over at Ben who winks at you. “I don’t know. He’s just kinda-.”

“Everything you’re not.” Ben raises his eyebrow at Dean.

“Sammy you gonna weigh in on this?” You look at Sam expectantly hoping that he can jolt Dean out of the never ending loop he seemed to be stuck in.

“Nope. I’m staying out of it.” Sam holds his hands up in surrender.

“I cannot believe you slept with me!” Dean shouts again.

“Stop saying that! I didn’t sleep with you! I slept with him. Can we please move on-“ You groan.

"Same thing!"

"What? How is it the same thing?” You plant your hands on your hips glaring at Dean.

"He's me from another universe!" Dean is gesturing wildly with his gun now. “How would you feel if I slept with an alternate version of you?”

“It’s completely different!”

“How?”

“They aren’t us!”

“He sure as hell looks like me!" Dean snaps back. "What did you close your eyes the whole time or something?"

Your cheeks flare bright red with Dean's question. "No I didn't!"

“And I don’t look like you.” Ben grunts crossing his arms over his chest and giving Dean a once over again.

“He also doesn’t act like you.” You add.

It was true, Ben didn’t. And for some reason you got along with him more. You didn’t understand what Dean’s problem was, but for the better part of five years he’d been treating you like you hadn’t been hunting your whole life. Not to mention the first three years were spent with Dean barely saying two words to you without some kind of insult attached.

“That’s beside the point!”

“How is that beside the point?” You demand.

“I can’t believe you did this!”

"I didn't kill anyone Dean. I didn't torture any babies or kill any puppies. We are consenting adults! We had sex-"

“No no no!” Dean puts his fingers in his ears. “Lalalalala.” He sings to himself to avoid the image.

"And we're gonna have it again. So the two of you should clear out, unless you're in to that kind of thing Deanie.” Ben wraps his arm around your shoulders to pull you into him, but you don’t take your eyes off of Dean.

“Fuck I’m gonna need so much therapy after this” Dean groans putting the gun down on the table. Which was a good sign because now you weren’t worried that he would accidentally shoot Sam in the foot.

“Really? After everything you’ve gone through that’s what pushes you over the edge?” You ask him in shock.

“Yes. Are you happy? You’ve driven me to the point of insanity!” Dean snaps.

"You're acting like a child."

"I am not! I am having a completely normal reaction to finding out you slept with Wannabe Captain America!” Dean gestures to all of Ben who looks at Dean like he can’t tell if it’s an insult or not. 

You take in a deep breath to calm your racing heart. “Why are you so upset that I slept with him Dean? I don’t understand how this is so earth shattering to you that two people had sex! You have sex with people all the time-“

“Not with you!”He snaps back, but then clears his throat when he realized what he just said.

“He is not YOU!” You shout rolling your eyes for the millionth time. At the rate he was going, you were sure they were going to roll out of your head. 

“As important as this conversation is… can we maybe put a pin in it and go back to why he’s here?” Sam asks diplomatically.

“No-“ Dean says at the same time you say.

“Yes! Ben why are you here?”

“Don’t really know.” He shrugs taking a long hit from a joint that seemed to materialize out of thin air, while tightening his arm over your shoulders. “All I know was that I was fighting Homelander and someone hit me from behind. Then I ended up here.” Ben’s eyes trace your body. “But I’m not complaining, especially not because I got to see you again doll.” He winks.

“Homelander?” Dean repeats. “That is the stupidest hero name I’ve ever heard in my entire life.”

“He’s anything but a hero.” You fight the shudder from the last time you ran in to him. “Think about Superman if Superman was a narcissistic sadist with a massive inferiority complex, no weakness, and an obsession with perfect hair.”

Dean looks Ben up and down with a heavy sigh. “I’m disappointed that I couldn’t have at least been a bit more like Batman.”

“Trust me. You don’t want to meet knockoff Batman from his reality either.” You respond.

"I guess I'll start doing some research." Sam says slowly, looking from Ben to you while hiding a smile.

He’s enjoying this way too much.

"Good." Dean frowns at Ben, before he claps him hard on the shoulder. You saw Dean fight the wince when he felt how solid Ben was. "Let's get you home buddy." His eyes dart from Ben to you. "Before you do anything else that'll scar me for life."

Thank you so much for reading! Likes, Comments, and Reblogs are not required, but are always appreciated! 😊

Taglist: @roseblue373 @mrsjenniferwinchester

[next2newgolfuk]

Good Second Hand Golf Clubs Sale Ormskirk In UK

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[ceilidho]

prompt: price/reader bear shifter fic. PART 1.

-

“—are priced wrong. You need to fix that.”

“Hmm? Sorry?” you ask, mind snapping out of whatever fog it’d descended into upon seeing John Price’s truck pull up out front of the grocer. You blink a couple times before focusing on the older lady lined up at your till, her face pinched with displeasure. It deepens when she realizes that you haven’t been paying a lick of attention to whatever she’d just spent the better half of a minute complaining about. 

“The beefsteak tomatoes are priced wrong. They’re supposed to be two dollars a pound—it’s in the catalogue.”

Before you can so much assure her that you’ll certainly honour the advertised price and save yourself the headache, she’s already opening up her purse to pull out the crinkled grocery catalogue, unfolding it across your conveyor belt; it goes out in the local paper once a week with all the sales and rippable coupons, and this isn’t the first time you’ve had someone try to lecture you about discrepant prices (Kate, your manager, is a sweet, gungho lady, that often sends off discount confirmations to the editorial staff of the local paper without informing anyone that actually works in the shop day-to-day). 

From the corner of your eye, you see John slam the door shut on his truck and make his way towards the shop, hands shoved into his pockets. Even from a ways away, the sight of him makes your cheeks redden; his beard’s gotten fuller in the week since you last saw him, clad in even more layers of flannel and tweed now with the fast approach of winter. He looks properly ready for the winter months, with just an air of heaviness present in the lines on his forehead and the tilt of his head. 

You feel your lips slip down into a frown. Helpless, you can only watch in defeat as John lumbers into the grocery store, brushing his hand over his hat to shake off the snowflakes onto the mat by the automatic doors. He picks up one of the baskets by the front door before heading down one of the aisles. His eyes don’t flicker to meet yours so much as once. 

Your shoulders slump when he ducks out of sight before you focus your attention back on the woman in front of you. She’s pointing out the tomato print with the little two dollar sign in the advertisement with a stiff finger, eyebrow cocked like she’s pulled one over on you. You really can’t imagine there being anything less important to you than the price of beefsteak tomatoes, never mind having to refund someone a whole dollar because you inadvertently overcharged them and you happened to get stuck with the one customer that would spend a full thirty seconds reviewing their bill before leaving the shop. 

“See?” she says, the word coming out sibilant and stressed. You blink.

Turning back to the till, you click a couple buttons before the register pops back out again and you pluck up a dollar to hand back to your customer. On the receipt that’s printed out, you hastily scrawl the reason for the refund and shove the seller's copy back into the till. The woman stares at the dollar now sitting on the belt in front of her.

“Of course, ma’am,” you say, a robotic smile stretching across your face. “Apologies for the inconvenience. I’ll get someone to reprice the tomatoes so this doesn’t happen again.”

She doesn’t say anything when she snatches up the dollar along with her groceries and hobbles out the front door, the automatic doors swooshing behind her. With her finally gone, you close your eyes for a second, a private moment just to yourself.

Someone clears their throat from just off to the side. Your heart bursts into a frantic pitter-patter when you open your eyes to find John waiting patiently at the end of your till, his basket filled up with bottles of mustard, gherkins, and other preserves. 

“A paper bag, please,” he says in a gruff voice, like he tousled with sleep just a few minutes ago. It makes your head spin. 

You nod, hardly able to even respond.

Up close, he smells like firewood and smoke, the ever-present cigar usually hanging off his lip nowhere to be seen but still clinging to his jacket and flannel beneath it. The mutton chops of his beard have grown out more than the rest, but his jaw is covered in a layer of fur in comparison to the week previous. John doesn’t really make eye contact as you scan his groceries, almost too tired to raise them from the conveyor belt. Not for lack of respect—it comes off as pure exhaustion. 

You know John as the gruff, taciturn park ranger that comes in once a week to load up on steaks, cold cuts and fresh produce, but in the months you’ve lived in this town, he’s always fresh off work, a little rough around the edges and not quite fit for human interaction just yet. He just grunts and nods when you tell him his total, towers over you and never really makes much eye contact. 

It’s always non-perishables with him these days. At least for the past several weeks, as far as you know. Cans and jars and freezer-ready meals. He doesn’t strike you as much of a prepper, but his order speaks for itself. It’s one of the things you like most about your job—getting to peek into the small crack of life laid bare before you. 

“Getting ready for the winter?” you ask. 

John grunts, eyes meeting yours just briefly before dropping down again. Dark brown. Sometimes you swear you catch the faintest glimmer of gold in them, like a honey glaze, but it’s likely just a trick of the lights. 

“Gonna be a rough one.” 

You try not to shiver at the sound of his voice. It’s not often that you get to hear it; even though you moved into the house next to his almost six months ago, he spends most of his days in the mountains, working up there as a ranger. He comes home after dark nearly every day—not so hard now that the sun sets early on in the day, but even back in the summer you’d spy him coming back from his shift well after dark. 

He’s gotten more heavyset in the last couple of weeks, a comfortable weight to his midsection and arms. Beefier, more solid. When John is in front of you, it’s like no one else in the world exists at that moment; he removes them all from sight and mind. It soothes some of the worry that his constant late coming has stirred up in you, knowing that he’s fed. Not all of it though.

“You know the, uh—” you start, clearing your throat midway through, almost losing your nerve under his sudden attention at the sound of your voice, “—the butter’s twenty percent off this week. I, um…I wasn’t sure if you’d noticed.” You catch his little frown and clarify. “You usually get butter.”

“Thank you, but not this time,” he says gruffly. “Got enough of it in the freezer.”

“Oh…well…” you trail off like you’re going to say something else but you let the conversation fall flat instead. 

He’s quiet the rest of the time as you bag his groceries. John always is. There’s a hurt side of you, silently begging for more, but you’ve watched him enough around town to know that this is just what he’s like. Gruff with the other rangers on the mountain, taciturn after a long day’s work, and sweet as apple pie with the older townsfolk. You’ve seen him help people at crosswalks and more than once he’s footed someone’s grocery bill when they’ve come short. 

Maybe you’re not interesting enough to merit conversation or that same goodwill he extends to others. Not that John has ever been anything less than polite with you, but—your thoughts scatter like birds when you recite his total without thinking and watch him wordlessly as he pays. 

“Thanks, honey,” John says, eyes meeting yours again. “See you next week.” He finally manages a smile, his eyes crinkling under the weight of it. 

You could get lost in his smile if you let yourself. It comes freely but seldomly these days, kept at bay by rough days out in the woods helping lost hikers, ticketing hunters for going over their allotment, and managing the wildlife. But when he smiles, you feel the blood go hot under your cheeks and fight every vision you have of him suddenly leaning across the counter and tipping your chin up for a kiss.

Tongue-tied, you nod. You can’t even force a smile on your face, wide eyes still set on him in wonderment. He doesn’t wait around for you to find your words.

But—you think again wistfully as he turns to leave—it might be nice once in a while. For him to look at you like you’re more than a stranger. 

You mourn your chance to talk to him once he’s out the door, wishing you could call him back. It’s not his fault that just the mere sight of him leaves you tongue-tied. It folds up like a cherry stem in your mouth when he speaks to you and you haven’t yet managed to untangle it in his presence. Maybe someday. 

That’s just life though. 

He’s always made you feel nervous, like a schoolgirl with her first crush, but it’s a safe kind of crush. The kind that feels fun to indulge in because there’s no possibility of reciprocation, like you can just ogle him and pine over him without having to worry about what you’d do if he felt the same way. You mourn the loss of him when he leaves, but like a tender bruise on your knee that you sometimes press just to shy away from. 

The rest of your shift pales in comparison to the eight minutes spent in his presence. Rinse and repeat. Someone else complains about the tomatoes and you write a note for your manager to read the next day. It’ll be her fault if someone finally emails in to complain or takes it to the news; there’s always an op-ed in the papers that’s little more than a thinly veiled bad Yelp review. 

John’s car is outside his house when you make it home at the end of the day, the lights still on inside. You sit in your car and stare at the light hidden behind the curtains. 

It would be nice, you think, resting your head back against the seat, to go up and knock at his door. If only you were braver. You’d march right up, knock on his door, and offer him something to eat. You could do it too. In the six months you’ve lived here, it’s not as though you’ve ever treated him particularly neighbourly. 

You squeak when you see John pull the curtain back and peer out the window, sliding down in the front seat so he doesn’t notice you there.

Maybe some other day then.

[musicfeedsmysoul12]

Our second DCXDP au has Danny hiding in Gotham with the cores of Dani, Dan and two other clones who survived. They need DNA to be able to reform but it's in a ‘it doesn't have to be now’ kind of way. Not just Danny’s DNA but another to to balance out their genes.

They'll become babies and be raised up. Dani was melting but forced Danny to promise he wouldn't find someone right away he'd take his time to fall in love first. Dan did the same and the twin clones did to.

Danny decides it's a good idea but keeps the cores safe. He ran to Gotham in the DC universe because the GIW were to close to killing him. His parents, Jazz, Sam, Grandma Ida and the Foleys all followed. Grandma Ida is running some gang down in crime alley having a blast with Sam, constantly trying to hook Sam up with Jason who Ida is in a turf war with. Tucker is happily running a tech company that will soon outstrip it's competitors., his parents helping Jazz is terrifying in Arkham as she tears our corruption.

Maddie abd Jack found out about the Leauge of Assassins and went: study time. Danny, knowing its corrupted ecto and also not wanting to deal with assassins lets then have fun. So Ra’s is dealing with liminal mad scientists who keep stealing the Pits and also have uncovered two Damian clones they kidnapped. Their kids now.

But we’re focusing on Danny who is in college and living a peaceful life which is what he wants most of all. The cores of his kids are always on him just in case and he's casually dating. It's great. He can just be Danny the guy who is super into space and plans on being a mechanic for the watch tower.

Then one day Two-Face attacks the cafe he's at (because of a sale it was having where it was two for one on some sort of new treat). Danny has to run for his life. He gets hit and the bag he has the cores in is harmed. One falls out and he freaks, diving for it. He grabs it just as Black Bat swoops in to save him. She flies him up to a roof.

They land and then she moves to grab one of the cores that fell out. Danny gets antsy but it requires skin contact so it should be okay, she's wearing gloves after all. It'll be fine!

On her part, Cass is wondering why her hand feels tingly but there isn't anything malicious in the mans face so she thinks it might just be the orb she caught being weird. She swings off, noting that she has a hole in her glove.

Danny goes home and doesn't think about it until he realizes that the core the hero touched is growing. And it's getting sick without the touch of its other parent.

Cass on the other hand feels strange. Like she's pulled somewhere. She instantly thinks of the guy and alerts the others to him. They hunt him down to find him on a rooftop. He's surprised to see them, holding an Orb that’s glowing.

“I thought it would take longer…” the man says. He shakes his head. “Umm… rip the band-aids off- I'm nottotslly human.”

The Batfam kinda pauses cause he's giving this info up for free. Cass is eyeing him closely. It's just her, Batman and Robin in front of the man. Everyone else is listening in or in the shadows.

“I ran away from my home dimension cause they were hunting me down to kill me because they believed I was non-sentient. You know sad trench- I mean, John Constantine? I think he put in the word we’re friendly,” the man babbles. The orb shines. “Okay, okay. I need to… Black Bat did your glove have a hole in it when you touched this?”

Cass hums but nods. Barbara has Constantine on the line (and no one wants to know the blckmail she has to make him answer) and he's confirming it's a friendly.

“Okay, okay… this is a Core and it's the heart, soul, brain, everything of an ecto-entity like me. And it… it’s my child. But it needed a second set of DNA. It's fine dormant, it doesn't hurt the baby. But it…” the man swallows. “Skin touch.”

Cass knows in a second what he's leading up to. She touched the orb. It needed DNA.

That's her baby in his hands.

Que the chaos.

[fict1onallyobsessed]

Sevika as your work wife🤭

ohhhh yesss

With the amount of time you spend together you might as well have gotten married

Say you work for Silco too, you'd be hired as another second hand when shimmer sales were booming just to maximize profit

You and her didn't even get a proper introduction, you just...started working together

She didn't mind you, you kept to yourself and didn't need babying (unlike a certain blue-head lol) so you were mostly partnered up with her

She worked better with you than Jinx so why not?

Even at the beginning, you wouldn't speak to each other, maybe a

"Pass me the vials?"

"Here."

But for what seemed like ages, she seemed to only be interested in getting the job done

That was fine, because all you cared about was the pay check waiting for you afterwards

That was up until she started nodding at you when she passed you, so subtle that you'd miss it if you blinked

Then she started saying a quiet "hey."

During jobs you'd chit chat about the smallest of things...until that turned into deep conversations about life beyond zaun

"You regret doing this, Sevika?"

"I regret a lot of things."

She'd actually sit next to you when Silco called you into meetings to the point he'd even gone as far as call you her friend

You kept getting closer

and closer

and even closer

Granted, it took almost a year but you were happy to not have a shitty and stuck up co-worker like everyone warned you about

It got to a point where she'd let you sit in when she was doing paperwork in her office

Especially after a tough job, where going back to your apartment sounded like the loneliest hell on earth

You found out her favourite pastime at the last drop, gambling and smoking cigars and she asked if you wanted to come with one day

one day turned into two

then you went with her almost everyday

She found it odd to admit she trusted you, with your uncharacteristically calm demeanour for someone who lived in the undercity, she found herself subconsciously doing things for you when you worked.

"Where's all of barrels Silco wanted me to move?"

"Already done, sweetness."

Sevika found out about this specific drink you liked that the last drop stopped serving when you were talking to her one day in the office, her head down, focused on the paperwork.

You didn't even think she was listening

But she walked into Silco's office with a bag, walked towards where you were sitting, handed it to you silently then sat next to you as Silco started explaining the next job he had for both of you.

"What is this for-"

"Don't mention it."

Mutual trust was a massive thing in this little endeavour you guys had

There were things Sevika would tell you and vice versa, that were never to be mentioned to anyone and somehow that always stuck

She felt almost good working with you.

Someone at the last drop made a bold joke about her being your work wife, since you were always together and seemed so close yet so far at the same time

"You their work wife or something?"

She looked from above her cards onto the man, blowing out her cigar smoke out her nose and scoffing.

"Guess so."

[violetarks]

fooled around and fell in love!

anime: ouran high school host club

characters: fujioka haruhi, suoh tamaki, ootori kyoya

summary: you have enough charm to make even a host fall for you! why haven't you joined the club yet?

a/n: g/n! reader, they/them pronouns used, second person pov, reader isn't necessarily in love with them, they're just unintentionally getting the others to fall for them, but it can be read however you would like

↣ fujioka haruhi:

being the little plaything for the host club was not fun at all for haruhi. she would literally rather do anything else than this.

carrying four bags of food for the hosts, haruhi groans in frustration, "stupid rich people... why do they have to drink so many different brands of coffee?" she reaches into one bag, pulling out an order for hikaru. "he doesn't even like the ingredients in this. he just wanted me to say that long order for no reason..."

people watched the student struggle down the hall towards the host club room. haruhi felt a bit annoyed; didn't rich people have maids or something to do these things? a turn around the corner makes her stop on her tracks, nearly dropping the bags onto the floor.

a hand is held out to catch her elbow, steadying her feet. "sorry, i didn't see you." she apologises, holding the bags even tighter.

"it's okay." you retort, sliding your book bag onto your shoulder. you blink at her, noticing who she was. "oh, haruhi. good morning. you seem pretty busy already."

"good morning, y/n." she replies, nodding her head at you, "yeah, the host club needed a refill on a couple things."

"do you... need help?" you ask, tilting your head at her.

"oh no, it's okay." she spoke, shaking her head with a nervous smile, "i'm nearly there, and club activities are going to start soon."

you shrugged your shoulders, taking some of the bags from her hold. "it's okay, my meeting's been cancelled. i can help." you explain, giving haruhi a smile, "i don't mind spending a little more time getting to know you."

she held her breath for a moment as you led her to the music room that the host club occupied. you were well-known around the school yourself, not as much as the infamous tamaki but still. you shared world history class together and sat in front of her. she knew the sound of your voice by the end of the first month here at ouran academy, and it was no wonder why many of your classmates would seek your help for work. haruhi was good at reading people, so she could tell that you yourself didn't have any bad intentions.

you two became friends quite easily, and you had visited her a few times at the host club. you acted as a cool escape from the strange world of the rich that haruhi had to get used to. you spoke to her as if she was always a friend of yours, sweet and kind. she thought that, if you had tried to, you could knock even tamaki off of his pedestal.

"i heard from hikaru that your theme for this week is the opposite of a 'maid cafe'." your voice cuts through her thoughts, and she drags her eyes to meet with yours. heat rushes to her cheeks at the idea that kyoya had brought up to make a rise in sales. you chuckle at her reaction. "well, i'll have to make sure to stop by to see you."

haruhi rolls her eyes, looking out the window to her left. "please spare me the humiliation, y/n." she huffed out, frown tugging on her lips.

you only grin wider. "c'mon, haruhi, you know that’s the only reason i show up." you say, leaning forward to get a look at her face. she was burning even brighter, and it didn't help that when she glanced back at you, you were staring at her with that welcoming and heart-warming grin you always had for her. "should i switch to always visiting the twins, then?"

haruhi gives you a deadpan look, which makes you laugh. she knows you wouldn't, you literally only asked for her. but she couldn't help the feeling she experienced when you would say her name or look at her like that.

at the host club, you help drop off the bags as kyoya checks everything on his clipboard. at the bell, haruhi escorts you to the door.

"thank you again, y/n, for your help. i'll repay you." she says, knowing full well that all her payments were going to the host club for her initial incident.

you ruffle her hair a little with a smile. "no problem, haruhi. i'll always be here to lend a hand." you say, walking down the hall with your 'goodbye'.

haruhi spares you a wave, closing the door after seeing you turn the corner. when she looks back to her clubroom, she notices kyoya standing a few feet away, back against the wall. "oh, kyoya-senpai. i forgot you—”

“taking a liking to l/n, have we?” he taunts, clipboard under his arm. his glasses gleam with mischief and haruhi gulps. picking it up from the table, he hands her the costume for the day. “is that why they’ve become a regular now?”

she rolls her eyes and grabs it from him. “believe what you want, i’m not doing this out of pleasure.” she admits, hurrying to the change rooms. she passes the other hosts, all standing in the doorway and watching the two interact. haruhi stops on her tracks yet again, furrowing her brows. “what now?”

“what’s this? have haruhi and y/n finally begun dating?” the twins chime, wrapping their arms around haruhi as she begins to heat up, “the love story of the century, two pining young students unable to keep their affections a secret.”

kaoru glances to tamaki, who is fixing up his tie. “what do you say, boss? should we invite y/n to join the host club?” he suggests.

honey jumps up, holding his toy up in the air. “they would be so cute together, right taka-chan?” mori simply nods his head, looking indifferent.

“hmm. perhaps a new addition would spark some rivalry between haruhi and y/n.” tamaki concludes, “many of our guests would love to see the lovers battle to be the best! yes, that is a splendid idea! haruhi—”

turning around, he sees haruhi exit the change rooms in her butler outfit. she huffs back, shaking her head, “i am not inviting y/n to join the host club, you idiots.”

she walks passed them, ignoring the banter they were spouting and the arguments they had for you joining the club. in the end, it was a definite no.

she didn’t know what it was. maybe she just really wanted you to herself.

↣ suoh tamaki:

tamaki, like always, was surrounded by the girls of ouran academy.

if there were any sign that today was just going to be another day, it would be that. the sounds of screams and dreamy sighs, the voice of tamaki swooning them all, and the trail of hearts left behind. another day here at school for you.

but, like always, the club members would make fun of him for his eccentric ideas and whatnot. as they leave to go to class, tamaki stands in the music room with a disappointed look on his face. whenever he would put a frown on his face, the customers would come rushing in! hold his face, cling to his side! why must his friends be so disheartening?

when the door opens to the music room, he expects it to be kyoya to drag him back, and he throws on his frown again. "oh, kyoya! i'm so sad!"

"why is that, tamaki?" you ask, closing the door with your sheet music under your arm and your violin in hand. he blinks at you, obviously not expecting anyone other than the club members. "my apologies, i walked into the wrong room. why are you here by yourself?"

to play it off (although he has never seen you attend any club activities, only ever seeing you in his literature class) he stands up, cheeks burning with embarrassment. he chuckles out, arms thrown to his sides, "o-oh! don't mind me, i'm just a bit down. i didn't expect such a kind student to make themselves known at such a time! how are you on this fine day, mx l/n?"

when you tilt your head, walking closer to his spot at the couch. "a sweet boy like you should never be left alone to sulk." you state, sitting down across from him. he widens his eyes, gulping. "where are your friends?"

"uh... they are in, um, class!" he says as the end-of-the-day bell rings. you only smile. tamaki sighs, dropping his whole get-up and looking to his hands, leaning back against the softness of the couch, "i suppose they left me here while they went home."

"you don't want to go home yet?" you question. he shakes his head. you only exhale, placing your sheet music on the table and your violin next to you. "well, if that is the case, then i'd be happy to keep you company, my lovely."

he widens his eyes as he looks to you. a faint blush paints his cheeks. "you... would?" you nod your head twice. he then smiles. "truthfully, i have no business being here right now. kyoya had called off our club meeting because of exams coming up and the twins failing some classes. and if they fail, they can't be in the club."

"is that so?" you say, making conversation, "well, i suppose you can spend your time with me."

"do you not have a lesson to get to?" tamaki asks, concerned as he glances to your sheet music, "i wouldn't want to keep you—"

"would you like to come to my practice, then?" you offer, smiling softly that it makes him hold his breath for a moment. you were so charming, in such a different way than he was. it was enticing. "i'm sure you wouldn't distract me. not on purpose, that is."

your little joke at the end makes him nervously laugh. "oh, i... i wouldn't want to bother."

"you're not bothering me, tamaki." you honestly say. he unconsciously leans towards you, eager to get closer. you stay where you are, smiling at his actions. "and it seems you just can't resist me."

he catches himself falling. he almost can't believe it, but he then fixes himself and his posture, standing up straight. "r—right, well, i... you...!"

you chuckle, standing up and taking his arm linked in yours, "alright, prince, let's go."

he gasps as you guide him to your practice room, so confident through the halls. he's scared someone will see him in such a flustered state and his cool prince facade will fade. but luckily enough, you navigate your way easily and shut the door behind you.

except, it doesn't take you to the music room. no, in fact, you and tamaki end up on one of the balconies that overlook the quieter side of school — opposite side from the host club.

"i practice here during our breaks and study sessions." you admit, placing a music stand and clipping your sheet music to it. unlatching you violin, you glance to tamaki. "away from all your fangirls, that is."

he raises a brow, catching himself finding his confidence again, "jealous, perhaps?"

"what do you think?" you say, tuning your instrument.

tamaki blinks, staring at the ground as he sits at the bench in front of you. he states, "there is no possible way you could've gotten the wrong room, you know."

you raise your brows, looking back at him. a slow smile creeps onto your lips. "your club passed me in the hallway before i saw you." you admit, waxing your bow, "i just wanted to make sure ouran's pride and joy was okay."

his heart swells at your words. he doesn't know why, but all of a sudden birds sings for you, flowers bloom in your presence the breeze smells sweeter.

"thank you..." he hums, smiling at you sweetly, "may i hear something?"

you lift your bow, nodding your head, "yes, your highness."

his heart explodes at the first note.

↣ ootori kyoya:

if there was one thing kyoya was good at, it was analysing people's strengths and weaknesses. the smart one, glasses-wearing, everything. he was it.

but one thing he couldn't understand was why you were so popular.

you were a part of the school student committee, and as a part of your duties, you hd to do monthly check-ups on clubs to see if they were still eligible to continue. while the host club never failed, you would still drop by without a doubt.

today was one of those days.

kyoya could tell you were near by the increase in whispers and gasps around the hallway. once heard, he excused himself and walked off to grab the folder that held the statistics for their monthly report.

as if on cue, you enter, herd of admirers behind you.

"ah, good evening, mx l/n." he says, offering a bow, "to what do i owe the pleasure?"

"it's good to see you too, ootori." you chime, bowing yourself, "is your report ready for this month? it is the 31st after all."

kyoya can almost hear the agonising tone in your voice, hidden by your politeness. but he doesn't waver, holding out the folder. "indeed. like always, we are right on time." he tells you.

you take it from him, opening it up and falting. kyoya raises a brow. "is something the matter, l/n?" he questions.

you look up at him with the faintest smile. "perhaps you're pulling my leg here, ootori. this appears to be last month's report." you chime, pinpointing his mistakes at its core.

he takes the folder from you and reviews the dates. you were correct, this was last month's report. he scans the room until he locks eyes with the twins, who shrug their shoulders innocently and walk off.

"i... apologise. it seems the twins have taken it into their own hands to file the report for this month." he sighs, fixing his glasses, "if you'll follow me, i will find it for you."

you agree, smiling as those you pass before you enter the side room with kyoya in front of you.

as the doors shut, you click your tongue, "oh kyoya, those two run circles around you, don't they?"

the host rolls his eyes, taking out the box of reports from the cabinet and setting them on the desk. he does miss how his name sounds on your lips. so soft.

"they are a pain, but we make do." he huffs, "must your enterage always follow you when you come see us?"

"oh it's not just when i come here." you state, hand on your hip, "it's everywhere."

you were so smug it made him scowl. he opens the box and notices that they are all out of order. he groans, "we have to look through every individual file, i'm afraid."

"luckily this is my last club for tonight." you sigh, taking out a couple folders, "i can help you organise these."

"but wouldn't your fanclub miss you too much, y/n?" kyoya speaks, doing the same thing and looking through them.

"you're one to talk." you chuckle.

"i truly don't understand how you manage to gather so many followers. you're merely treasurer." he complains, shrugging his shoulders, "do you like being followed around like that?"

you roll your eyes at his dramatic personality. you and kyoya had been friends for ages now, and it seems the popularity you acquire puts a strain on your relationship.

"i don't mind being followed, but i do like all of my friends." you state, flipping through pages, "i speak to all of them regularly."

"so they talk to you and you enjoy it?" he questions, raising a brow at you. the thought irked him. why did you speak to so many people? he could call bullshit. but you shrug your shoulders.

"everybody wants to be liked by the person they have a crush on." you say, knowing tone. every one of your "friends" have or have had a crush on you, which is why they speak to you in the first place. "it just so happens that i like making friends."

"that's preposterous." he huffs back, "i don't understand the severity. i don't feel the need to be liked by you."

"that's because i already like you, kyoya. we were friends since forever, after all." you state, putting one report into the correct folder as you glance at him working, "do you not feel the same?"

"frankly, it doesn't matter to me." kyoya says, ignoring how his chest felt at what you said. it was reassuring to know you still liked him.

"what, are you saying that you don't like me, kyoya?" you say, overdramatic voice on. you move closer to kyoya, tilting your head and jutting our your lip. he swallows his nerves "even after everything we've been through? i'm hurt."

"quiet." he grunts, pushing you away as you laugh. his face grows warmer. "just... find that report and get out of here. it's almost time for club activities to end."

you stare at him for a moment, watching red grow on his cheeks in frustration. your friend has always been this way, even though he acts more familiar with you in private, his embarrassed look never changes. you just see it more than anyone else. that's just how you were.

"okay, kyo." you chuckle, moving to the other side of the table and continuing your work.

kyoya sighs to himself, fixing his glasses and calming himself down. how could you be so... charming? and effortlessly so? is this why everyone fawned over you in a similar way to how they fawn over tamaki?

a few more minutes pass before you've found the file and managed to organise the rest of them. kyoya breathes in relief, putting the box away and silently cursing the twins out.

"thank you, kyoya." you hum out, tucking the folder under your arm, "i'll let you know what we come to."

he puts his hand on the door and before he opens it, he turns to you. "you're welcome. please do. it's the only time we ever... see you." he admits, seeing your raised brows.

your smile drops for a second before you sigh, patting his back, "i'll be sure to come and visit more often then. just for you."

when he opens the door, tamaki is trying to swoon your crowd to leave. he cheers and waves his hands, but to no avail. when they see you, they follow after.

"i apologise for extending my stay, suoh." you say, nodding at him as you stand in the exit, your crowd behind you, "i'll see you all soon."

with a wave of your hand, you leave, smiling at kyoya one last time. the twins turn to him immediately.

"so, how was your date with y/n?" they chime, leaning on his shoulders.

"it wasn't a date, you morons. you do realise how much trouble you caused." he says, a sly smile on his face, "seems like a punishment is in order."

the twins dash out of the room before he can say another word, the other members talking quietly amongst themselves about you.

but kyoya only looks down at his clipboard, once again counting the days til you come again for your monthly report.

[multifandomgirl08]

Time to Move? [Mini Verstappen Series]

Dad!Max Verstappen x Fiancée!Reader (Established Relationship)

Summary: When Max had brought up moving, it was because the lease on his apartment was going to be up at the end of the year. Maybe it was time to find a new place for all of you.

Warning(s): Implied Sexual Content in the first half

Words: 2.6k

Previous Part → Next Part Mini Verstappen Masterlist

Nico was already in bed for the night after refusing to go to sleep without Max reading him a story. He had protested until you offered to read Nico two stories if he let Papa finish his race. Nico perked up and then dragged his feet to bed. He made it through the first story, and by the time you were getting through the second one, he was falling asleep.

You joined Max in the living room after Nico had fallen asleep, where he was sitting on his racing sim talking to someone before he logged off for the night. Max and the guys from Team Redline had been streaming tonight.

“Yeah, I’ll be back on tomorrow.” He said before clicking something on the steering wheel.

“Sure, bye guys.” Max turned the sim off before pulling off his headphones and stepped out of his seat.

Your laptop was open looking at houses. You and Max had been talking about moving from his apartment to a house. You had been looking at houses online for the last few days and you couldn’t find anything in Monaco that looked like it was a good house for Nico to grow up in. You wanted things like a few bedrooms for you and Max to have your own spaces in the house, a pool, and a yard for Nico.

“How’s looking at houses?” He asked taking the empty can of Red Bull before throwing it in the recycling bin in the kitchen.

“It’s like there is nothing for sale. Maybe we should hire someone to find something for us.” You shut your laptop and put it on the coffee table.

“We don’t have to stay in Monaco, we can move further out.”

“We could, maybe moving out a little further would help.”

“I’m sure we’ll find something, there’s no rush.”

He was right there wasn’t, there was just so much going on for all of you right now. You were sitting down with the wedding planner while working, and you had recently just started to figure out how Nico’s karting schedule would end up working with Max’s schedule for the rest of the season. You didn’t even want to think about what was going on at work right now.

“I know.”

When Max had brought up moving, it was because the lease on his apartment was going to be up at the end of the year, so you suggested looking at buying a house instead of renting. You would be able to have your own office, instead of just having your desk set up in the living room, Max could have his racing sim in one of the guest rooms, and Nico would have more room for his toys since he was slowly growing out of his bedroom. Max’s two-bedroom apartment made sense when you had moved in but now there wasn’t as much room for the three of you to grow into. It just made sense for you to find somewhere with more space.

Max had pulled you from the couch guiding you towards the master bedroom to take your mind off of the events of the day. Max leaned down, your lips meeting, feeling his eyelashes flutter closed against your cheekbones.

Your hands went to his back, letting your fingernails slightly dig into the fabric of his shirt. You slid your hands under the hem feeling his warm soft skin under your fingers. He pulled back only to start to pull at the tight fabric of his shirt, letting it fall to the floor hitting your bare feet.

It had taken another month looking at houses before you and Max even bothered talking to a real estate agent. Eventually, on a Sunday, both you and Max woke up early, dropping Nico off at Daniel’s for the day before going to meet the realtor. The Aussie had taken Nico from your arms, almost shooing both you and Max out of his apartment, wanting to spend every moment that he could with his godson.

“Uncle Daniel has it all handled,” He said, taking the bag out of Max’s hands. Nico was already situated on the couch asking Daniel if he had any fun games that they could play.

After that you and Max walked down to the garage to get into his car. He pulled open your door for you before you slid into the seat.

Max had gotten in and then started the car, you were making a small list of all of the things the house would need, “Pool, gym, 4 or 5 bedrooms.”

“And a big garage, I’m going to need a workspace to keep working on Nico’s kart.” Max’s focus was on the road but it seemed like the list for what you wanted was never ending.

You were meeting the realtor just outside of Monaco in a gated community. At least you wouldn’t have to worry about privacy. Max had pulled the car up to the house, and it could only be described as a big, modern, white box.

“I bet the moment we step into the house, we’ll be able to smell that the paint isn’t all the way dry.” You gave a small nod agreeing with Max. The house was new, too new for your liking.

You met the agent inside, he spoke with a thick French accent and told you the basic information of the house. It was on almost a full acre of land, had a pool, 4 bedrooms, a kitchen, a 2-car garage, and it was under 14 million euros. However, as you looked around the house there was no grass for Nico to run around on, and the closets in the house were small with the master bedroom sharing a single small closet.

This wasn’t the house for you and Max.

The next house you and Max drove to wasn’t on the market yet, it would be going up in about a week, and it didn’t even have an estimated price from the seller. It was close to Monaco, but a little higher up in the hills. You were concerned that since it was just outside of the city, it may not be considered as a part of Monaco, but rather in the next part over.

As Max pulled up to the gate, the guard had let you through. It looked like a cream one-story house, and you could see that there was a small water feature that led to the front door. The agent had walked in front of you with the key that had been in the lockbox before opening the door leading to a long entryway. It looked like going left would lead to the living room, and going right would lead to the dining room and the kitchen. But your eyes went front and center, looking out on the big backyard and pool, you felt like asking if all of the outdoor furniture came with the house.

You could feel Max’s hand on your hip, leading you down the hall to the kitchen. You could tell from the kitchen that it was a little dated but not too bad. It had a free-standing coffee maker instead of one that was built in, and an induction top stove, instead of a gas top like at the apartment. If you and Max got the house it was something that would need to be re-done before you moved in.

You and Max walked around the house for a while longer, the house turned out to be two stories, not one. It had two bedrooms upstairs both with en-suite bathrooms. When you had taken the stairs from the kitchen, it led down a long hallway that was photoless aside from the doorways that led to other rooms.

Max had stopped in front of a set of double doors, before pushing one open to reveal what could only be the master bedroom. There were doors that seemed to lead outside, the bed was up against the wall on the opposite side of the room, and it seemed like two doorways were hugging each side behind the bed. You and Max walked through one each, you ended up in a closet with white built-in shelves and a center island before seeing what was another doorway. You walked through it, and ended up meeting Max in the middle of the bathroom, which was settled between the two large closets; his and hers.

You gave the bathroom a quick look over, a big walk in shower with a bench, freestanding tub, makeup counter, and two sinks. From there you walked the rest of the second floor, there were another three bedrooms, a gym, and a wine cellar tucked away in the corner. The house had more than enough room for you, Max, Nico, and the cats.

From there you made your way back upstairs, finally walking outside to see the pool. The upstairs terrace had stairs leading down to the pool.

Max took your hand and led you down the stairs before you both stopped in front of the pool to see the birdseye view of Monaco and the Mediterranean sea from the backyard, even this far up in the mountains the sea still gave off a bright blue shine almost as if it was mirroring the sky.

You could hear Max’s shoes against the grass as he moved to lie down in one of the lounge chairs, his head already laid back closing his eyes. You pulled your heels off, moving to sit next to him on the lounge before he pulled you flush against his chest to lay down next to him.

“You like it?” He muttered into your hair.

“Yes.” You answered simply.

“I’ll ask him when it’s going to be put on the market.” Max didn’t even move from his spot, he just wrapped his arm around your waist, forcing your legs apart so that you were straddling one of his thighs.

“We don’t even know how much it is,” You started. “And the kitchen needs to be re-done.”

Max ran his hands over your arms, silently telling you to calm down, “We’ll figure it out. Besides, the last house is all the way on the other side of Monaco.”

You laid your head against Max’s chest, nuzzling your nose into his white t-shirt.

“Now you're just being lazy.” Max let out a loud laugh at your words.

“You wore me out with your late night activities.” His hand moved down to grip the inside of your thigh.

“You weren’t complaining then.” You gave him a small pout. Max gave you a crooked smile and then reached for your hand, kissing the band of your engagement ring.

You and Max laid there for a few more moments before making your way back up the stairs and into the living room to see the agent on the phone.

He looked up at the sound of your heels clicking on the white stone outside of the pocket doors.

“So, what do you think?” He asked.

“It’s nice,” Max started.

“That’s good. A little more what you were expecting… And it’s still within the Monaco postal code, so you don’t have to worry about not being considered a resident while you’re living here, even though you're technically in Saint-Jean Cap Ferret.” As the agent talked, you knew that it meant that the price would go down a bit since you weren’t actually in Monaco still.

“What’s the price?” The agent widened his eyes. He wasn’t expecting Max to just outright ask about the price.

“Well… Umm… I think the owner was looking at 17.5 million euros.”

“17.5,” You stated, the agent nodded. “What about 16.5? Given that I want to re-due the kitchen, and I would want to negotiate for the furniture to come with the house.”

“The kitchen is brand new,” The agent stated, but you knew he was lying. “And all of the furniture is from a staging company.”

“No, the kitchen isn’t, it has a free standing coffee maker, and the fronts of the cabinets need to be replaced. I’m sure the seller can pay out the staging company. Let’s also talk about the fact that it also isn’t on the market yet. I bet that the seller will want to list it at 17.5 and it’ll sit because the price is too high.”

You didn’t work in real estate but after all of your years in banking, private asset management was something you were knowledgeable in. Homes like this one were important assets in a portfolio. Since the house wasn’t new construction, and the seller wasn’t the original builder, they couldn’t price it at 17.5 million given the other homes in the area.

“He won’t go for that.”

“Why don’t you ask him?” You weren’t really suggesting it. But the agent was making it hard for you, you had clients at work who were more decisive in their choices then this guy.

It took a few seconds, but it was almost like the agent had scurried off to the other side of the house with his hand tightly gripping his phone.

“So this is what I’m missing while you’re working all day.” Max said softly, as he laid one of his hands on your hip.

“Max,” You said. He had pulled you into his chest and quickly dropped a kiss to your bare shoulder.

“I’m sitting in on one of your meetings next time.” You couldn’t tell if Max was joking or not. You knew that he was only trying to make you relax a bit.

“And what are you going to do while I’m busy?”

“I’ll find something to entertain myself with.” You saw Max’s eyes drop to your neck, before they quicked moved up again to meet your eyes.

“Want to play my assistant for the day?” You asked him. You could see the excitement fill Max’s eyes, and knew that if Max was going to watch you “work” you weren’t going to get anything done that day. He gave you a wordless nod before you heard footsteps again.

“16.5 million, all cash, outdoor furniture included.” The Agent was quick to say with his phone pressed into his white shirt.

Max just looked at you, and you read it as he was letting you take care of this. You gave the agent a half nod, “With a 14 day inspection contingency.”

The agent just stared at you, and you could hear sound coming from his phone. He gave you a curt nod, and placed his phone back up to his ear reiterating your additional stipulation.

It took a few moments before the agent got off the phone. “The seller is willing to take the additional stipulation.”

“Great.” You said.

“I’ll start the paperwork and we should have everything ready in the next few days.” The agent placed his hand out towards you. You shook his hand, and then he shook Max’s. “Congratulations on your new home.”

The agent left both of you in the house, instructing you to place the key back in the lock box. Technically you weren’t allowed to have the keys until the paperwork went through and everything was signed and notarized.

“Welcome home.” Max said with his hand on your hip.

“Tell me that again when we get the keys and the kitchen is re-done.”

Max laughed, “I’ll make sure, mijn leeuwin.”

You leaned into Max and up to kiss him. It would take a little bit but you couldn’t wait to make this house into yours and Max’s home.

Mini Verstappen taglist: @karmabyfernando, @barcagirly, @sachaa-ff, @iamahallucinationnn, @musingsbyshreya, @glow-ish, @nonsensical-nonsence, @fanboyluvr, @champomiel, @gothicwidowsworld, @lighttsoutlewis, @itsalwaysgay, @minkyungseokie, @mynameisangeloflife, @ursforever129, @aundercover, @bborra, @mindless-rock, @cixrosie, @barcelonaloverf1life, @taylorslovesswifties13, @konsti081, @mellowarcadefun, @smnthnclj, @brekkers-whore, @lpab, @thedecalcomania-blog, @xoscar03, @em-gvf01, @haikyuen, @shelbyteller , @geniusalpaca

[dcxdpdabbles]

Danny's Grill Part 2

Special thanks to @mkarchin713 for letting me use their idea.

Tim's night had been hectic.

Not only have things at WE taken a turn for the worst due to some random influencer that decided Wayne Enterprises was the cause of global warming and convinced all his fans of the same- despite the fact they were the nation's leading company in green energy- sales have been down.

The board was breathing down his neck to fix the stocks while being no help at all to get the youth back on their side. He's already pulled twelve hours of overtime this week and it was only Wednesday.

He's been dealing with the PR nightmare while trying to get to the bottom of data theft across multiple big-name technology companies. Reports of scams and total funds lost were reported all through Gotham and only his city.

Tim suspects someone had been planting screen recording devices in one of Gotham's shipping factories before they left the buildings, stealing all the information from new buyers.

Since his theory is so hard to trace, he's been having difficulty pinpointing the base of operations, never mind having enough proof for his thesis. After Bruce's lost-in-time fiasco, Tim learns to have evidence before going to the family with anything.

So that means he's been trying to fight his way on his own, which usually isn't too much to handle, but stress and lack of sleep have really been slowing him down.

Thankfully, a specific food truck appears in his line of sight, and his mood improves drastically. He finds a safe roof to quickly change into his civilians, already fantasizing about what delicious food he would eat.

Dressed in his typical Alvin Draper disguise- black, almost second-skin tights and an oversized sweater- he all but skips to Danny's Grill.

"Night, Danny," He says, smiling at the back of the chef. He leans on the little extended table outside the truck's small window. He takes a sniff of the air, mouth watering at the scent.

Looks like tonight is cheeseburgers, as Danny carefully flips some patties. Danny whirls around with a smile of his own, only to drop the spatula in horror.

"Alvin! What happened!?" Danny shouts, nearly flinging himself through the tiny opening. The vigilante blinks in confusion before catching his reflection in the napkin dispenser.

In his haste to have some of Danny's food, he forgot to cover up a black eye, swollen right cheekbone, and busted lip from his last faulty lead. A goon had gotten him by surprise and had nearly rearranged his face before he was able to get his wits about him.

"Nothing, really; it comes with the job, you know?" Tim tries to play off, laughing nervously when Danny's expression crumbles into pure rage. "Look, it's no big deal-"

"How can it not be a big deal!? Half your face is swollen!"

That happens when someone hits you with a metal pipe in the face. He thinks hysterically. "I've had worse."

"That's not comforting!" Danny screams, throwing off his apron. "Let me close down, and I'll take you to a doctor-"

"No hospitals. They'll ask where I got this, and I can't answer that." Tim cuts in, voice hard. There is a tense moment where he thinks Danny will force him to go anyway, but after a moment the other man growls slamming his hands on the counter.

"Fine. Fine. No hospitals. At least let me ice it." It takes everything in Tim not to shrink back from the hateful tone. He barely has the mind to nod as Danny quickly unlocks the little door that leads into his truck, ushering the Bat inside with barely controlled rage.

He knows it's not aimed at him, but being around someone so upset makes his skin crawl. Tim has problems with offending people; his parents had been masters in drilling into him from a young age.

That's why Tim always sought the approval of everyone around him, even if he couldn't stand the person.

He has been working on it, but old habits died hard.

"Sorry." He mumbles as Danny quickly gets a zippy bag full of ice.

"Don't. Apologize." Danny bites before taking a large breath, clearly trying to calm down. He gently places the ice against Tim's cheek, staring at him with such tender worry Tim can't help but feel butterflies. "You don't have to apologize for getting roughed up. Never. Okay?"

Tim nods, shyly looking away as his stomach is rapidly overrun by even more butterflies. "Okay."

"Come home with me." Danny suddenly blurts as if the words were forced out of him. He looked just as surprised by them as Tim was.

"What?"

"Just for tonight. Just so I know you're safe." Danny all but pleas, and Tim- well, Tim has never been known to be strong enough to resist his impulses. Sure, the family might worry, but he can send them a message claiming to be undercover, and frankly- it's been so long since Tim's had a break.

He's always wanted to know more about Danny outside his food truck. He hadn't been able to find much on him. Tim is a detective by heart. He wants to know everything there is to know about Danny Fenton.

"I can leave when I want." He says, as Danny carefully places a warm hand on his other cheek. "And I sleep in my own space. No bed sharing. I also want to take a shower but I don't have anything to sleep in."

"You can borrow something of mine/ Whatever you need." The words are practically a warm hug, and Tim feels relaxed. Already the shitty week feels less terrible, and he finds himself growing bold enough to take an obvious sniff of the air.

"Can I have a burger?"

There is a hint of an amused smile, but it does not cover up the worry. "Of course you can."

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

The shower is running in Danny's house.

It's a bit out of the way, about a forty-minute drive outside of Gotham limits, but it's spacious and private, just the way Danny liked it.

Ever since he inherited his title, he's found this house on the list of properties, and that was why he chose to take Gotham by storm in his little truck.

Danny isn't really sure what the story of the property was- the suspects the place was built around the same time Gotham got its curse; seeing as it was overseeing the city and had enough natural ectoplasm in the air, he would suspect the curse affecting the town lead to here. He never cared to check.

No, rather Danny had some ghosts remodel the old building to include wiring and functioning plumbing but asked that the general overall of the mansion stay the same.

He sort of like pretending to be a Lord of the Oldden days. If anyone asked if he walked around acting out old romances of the Victorian era, that was not else business but his own.

Alvin was undoubtedly impressed when they pulled up to his house. Maybe it shouldn't have felt so prideful to have the handsome man be impressed with his mansion given the circumstances.

He seemed to accept the excuse of having been willed the house by his late grandfather. He just hoped Alvin didn't think him the same as his wealthy clients.

Speaking of, he better make the call before Alvin finished.

Stepping to his balcony, he pulled out his burner phone and pressed the speed dial five. There are four rings before the call connects.

He gets no greeting, but he's not expecting one. Danny looks over his shoulder to ensure the bathroom door is connected to the master room- his bedroom, where Alvin will be staying, seeing as it has a bigger fireplace. He needs to have them install a heating system. Danny never bothered, what with his ice core and all- before he spoke.

"Hey, Red Hood, it's Danny. I'm calling in that favor."

There is a long pause before the other man grunts. "What is it?"

"My friend is a pro whose pimp or johns have been abusing lately. Can you help me....take care of the issue? I don't want to overstep in his life, but I'm pretty sure they broke his check bone tonight, and he claimed to have had worse before." Danny sighs, his stomach overturning at what that could mean. He hasn't gone out as Ghost King to show those assholes a thing or two because this isn't his haunt.

It's Red Hood's.

Danny had met the other man when a rouge attack had busted up all the main highways he usually worked in and had no choice but to try to sell in Crime Alley. He was right off the territory's edge, freaking out about entering without the main ghost's permission, until Red Hood confronted him.

Danny's frantic fretting had been suspicious enough that the main honcho had gone to find out why he was so nervous.

They worked a deal where Danny would sell his ware in peace, and as long as he let kids eat for free, Red Hood had no quarrels with him. He even got a favor from the crime lord after Danny provided free meals to some of his men's families struggling to get food a few months back.

He also allowed Hood to use his house as a safe house to hide a few people who needed to be out of the city. Is he part of Red Hood's gang? No.

Is he an alley? Yes.

Danny had been saving the favor for such an occasion.

There is silence on Hood's side, so Danny goes in for the kill. "My friend is seventeen; in a few months, he'll be eighteen, but he said he has been doing this since he was younger."

The silence is now laced with malice. If there was one thing they both agreed on it was that kids were never meant to be hurt by the scum of the city. "Give me his name and the area he usually works in."

"Alvin Draper. He changes per night, but I've often seen him on the east side of Crime Alley."

"I'll look into it. Is Alvin safe?"

"Yeah, he's going to be staying with me tonight. Don't come by until I convince him to extend his stay." Danny knows Hood will understand. This is one of many pros to see the Zone- his mansion's name- as a sanctuary.

"That's fine. Can you get me a picture of Alvin?"

"No, he's too skimmish."

Hood grunts again, his voice coming out tired despite the voice monitor. "Kids always are. I'll have my boys find Alvin's primp and johns. Ensure there aren't any other younglings before they make them swim with the fish."

Danny almost falls over in relief. "Thank you. Alvin...Alvin means a lot to me."

" Don't mention it. Stay well, Victorian."

Victorian is the code name Hood has given him to ensure Danny isn't tired of his gang. Yes, it's because his house is a Victorian mansion, but Danny also likes to think it's cause the other man appreciates the aesthetics of his house a little too much.

He once caught Hood admiring his Pride and Prejudice hardcover book displayed in his green sitting room.

"You too Hood. And thank you."

How would he convince Alvin that his house was a better place to call home than the orphanage and street corners without coming off as a wannabe savior or hopelessly in love creep?

Danny pauses at his own train of thought.

Hopelessly in love? He thinks in shock as the bathroom door swings open, and out comes Alvin, dressed in Danny's extra pajama set. He offers Danny a shy smile; even with the injuries, it is the loveliest sight he's ever seen, and- oh no, Danny is in love with him.

"You up for a late-night snack?" He asks, trying to not show the world-shattering realization on his face, and Alvin's smile grows wider.

"You're going to make me fat." The other laughs. Danny's heart skips a beat.

Danny Fenton loves Alvin Draper and will do everything he can to protect him. Even if Alvin will hate him for it.

[gh0stsp1d3r]

𝒮𝓉𝓇ℯ𝓈𝓈 𝓇ℯ𝓁𝒾ℯ𝒻

Masterlist

warnings- oral (m receiving) MDNI, 18+ dealer!rafe my love, reader is kinda a coquette girlie

‿︵‿︵‿ ‿︵‿︵‿୨ ୧‿︵‿︵‿‿︵‿︵

‿︵‿︵‿ ‿︵‿︵‿୨ ୧‿︵‿︵‿‿︵‿︵‿

Race Cameron, the rich kid of outer banks, the man some feared, one of the biggest dealers on the island, had the most adorable, yet spoiled girlfriend. It was comical to see the two walking down the streets.

You in your pink sundress and pink heels, beaming at him while he had a stoic face and towered over you, holding multiple bags in his hands for you.

It was rare to see him smile with others,yet when he was with you, he had one on his face most of the time. He adored you as much as you adored him, if not more.

You were his girl, his baby.

“It’s only gonna take 5 seconds. Swear. We’ll be in and out.”

“Okay… you promise?”

“Promise.” He said, getting out the car. You got out as well and walked towards the house.

He knocked on the door. You’ve been through these things so many times with him, he didn’t want to leave you in the car alone, and you were safer with him anyways.

“Yo, it’s Rafe!” He shouted, knocking louder when they didn’t answer. Finally, a man opened the door.

“You got it?” He asked, but while he talked to Rafe his eyes drifted to you.

Rafe dug through his pockets, pulling out the bag and holding it in front of him, blocking his view.

The man looked through his own pockets, pulling out a wad of cash.

“She for sale too?” He joked, Rafes eyes darkened and his jaw tightened. He took the money and handed him the bag.

“Just take the shit and shut up.” He mumbled, counting it and walking away without another word, making sure to cover your body.

“Sorry.” Rafe mumbled when you both got into the car. He seemed more mad about it than you did.

“It’s fine, those assholes are always ugly, could never compete with you.” You said back, a small smile on your face, putting your hand on his bicep and leaning over to kiss his cheek.

He was still tense though, he always got bothered when someone commented on you.

He began to drive, and it was silent for a while until you interrupted the silence.

“You want me to help you?”

He quirked an eyebrow. “What?”

You wordlessly moved your hands to his belt, sliding it off him and unbuckling it. He seemed relaxed, not so tense the second you put your hand on his cock, you felt it getting hard under your touch.

He let out a groan, fighting the urge to throw his head back. He focused on the road, one hand on the steering wheel and the other on your head as he drove. Your mouth felt heavenly, he wanted to be buried like this.

He glanced at you every so often, when you swirled your tongue around him and he slightly bucked his hips, or when you tried to take him deeper.

He took a deep breath and restrained himself from cumming in your mouth while driving. But the second that car pulled up to the driveway, all attention was on you.

His hands pulled your hair into a makeshift ponytail, he moaned and threw his head back, savoring in the way you batted your eyes at him.

“Shit, baby, ‘m gonna cum.” He mumbled, he groaned and shot warm ropes down your throat, you swallowed every bit, releasing his cock with a ‘pop’ and a string of saliva following.

“Thank you, Angel.” He mumbled, you smiled and gave him another kiss on the cheek.

[crishayle]

Pluto in the houses

Disclaimer. This article touches on unpleasant topics for conversation. Please don't be sad when reading it. Thank you:)

Pluto is responsible in astrology for transformations, death, destruction, power, sex, crises. This planet is one of the most difficult to interpret the natal chart, because it shows skeletons in the closet.

Pluto in 1st house:

1.This is an indicator of mental endurance. Such people have experienced many terrible and difficult situations. For example, the death of loved ones,fire,drugs,alcoholism,depression,suicide attempts. Their life is filled with stages to which they try not to return. What's gone is gone.

2.I noticed that such people always have some unusual scar or birthmark, a mole on their face

3.Such people can really be a leader in a group or is in authority. The paradox is that they are most often not very talkative and energetic and don't like attention, but the people around them respect their opinion and often ask them for advice.

4.They love sarcasm and self-irony, as well as making fun of friends.

5.They have a high sense of empathy for people, so they feel lies or hypocrisy of the interlocutor well. This is a great placement for psychologists, tarologists or astrologers.

6.Most likely, such people have heard more than once that they have a heavy or tired look.

7.Pluto in the 1st house in the aspects with Mars, Mercury or the Sun can indicate manipulativeness, imperiousness and aggressiveness. Before doing this, please also analyse the other placements of the natal chart.

Pluto in the 2nd house:

1.An indicator of a great love for material things. Of course, everyone loves money, but not like people with Pluto in the 2nd house.Many of these people have deposits, are thinking about buying real estate or investing. Don't forget, Pluto is a planet of other people's money, so people with this placement are good in business and sales.

2.With tense aspects with other planets, this placement can mean greed, wastefulness, unwillingness to earn money on their own. Such people like to dream and do nothing.

3.Such people love antiques. I noticed that they can keep memorabilia, postcards and gifts from friends in a box for many years.

4.They always know how to save money. If you want to know where you can buy something at a discount, then ask them. Perhaps such people like second-hand shops.

5.I noticed that such people have faced fraud or theft.

6.Their thoughts often become material. I'm not talking about global dreams, for example, about buying a car. Such people may think about a new bag and get a bonus or an opportunity to earn extra money the next day.

7.Pluto loves change, so it's not surprising if people with this placement can move to another city to earn money. Such people could face difficult choices or risks to succeed.

Pluto in the 3rd house:

1.Good analytical skills. This is a good placement for people working in IT, engineering, economics and psychology.

2.With tense aspects with other planets, it may indicate poor memory, short temper and rebelliousness, problems with focusing attention.

3.My personal observation. This is an indicator that in childhood a person could be bullied, change schools, study martial arts. In general, such people are more likely than others to encounter toxic people.

4.This is a very good placement for speakers. Firstly, they know how to convey their message to the audience. Secondly, they have a pleasant voice (but you also need to look at other placements).Thirdly, such people don't like to be silent. For the same reason, I would advise them to keep a diary or write their thoughts and ideas in notes.

5.This is an indicator of an honest person. He will not lie out of courtesy or for selfish purposes. Ask him anything and you will hear his true thoughts.

6.This is a lover of heart-to-heart talk :)

7.Of course, you need to look at the other placements of the natal chart, but most often such people's brains work better in the afternoon or at night.

Pluto in the 4th house:

1.The 4th house in astrology represents family, childhood and mother. For an accurate interpretation, look at the sun and moon in your natal chart. This is an indicator of parents' divorce, constant moving, strained relations in the family. Such a person could receive insufficient love and attention from his parents. Often this is an indication of strict upbringing.

2.Good intuition. Perhaps someone on the maternal side had esoteric abilities.

3.He likes to do the interior of the house. The house for this person is the personification of his personality. The very type of people who start cleaning if they have a lot of stress or anxiety.

4.It is very important for this person to make friends with his inner child in order not to succumb to his desires. For example, you need to determine what is home and a sense of security for you, what is love and attention of loved ones for you, etc. Until you answer these questions, you will unknowingly create problems in your life.

5.This is a possible indicator of an inheritance or a precious family heirloom (but you also need to look at the 8th house in the natal chart)

6.If the other placements in the natal chart don't indicate a bad relationship with parents, then Pluto in the 4th house may indicate that a person had a strong mother. The child could admire her stress resistance, diligence, integrity.She is a complex, but very interesting person.

7.Such people have matured early. In childhood, they were wise children, with whom adults were surprised.

Pluto in the 5th house:

1.'Sorry,I'm anti-romantic".With tense aspects with other planets (especially Venus) this is an indicator of complete aversion to love. A person is afraid of relationships because of possible betrayal or low self-esteem (you need to look at the rest of the placements of the natal chart).

2.A great placement for actors. People like to watch their emotions and listen to them. Emotionality and a high level of empathy is expressed in artistry, which is noticeable even in ordinary conversation.It is not surprising that this placement is really found in many famous actors (Milla Jovovich, Robert Pattinson, Jon Voight, Lady Gaga)

3.Such a person can really select and create a new personality and image for a particular person, which causes problems in his personal life.For some, he is a cheerful extrovert, for others a homebody, for others an ambitious workaholic.

4.Most often, such people are jealous and demand passion and emotions in a relationship (but you need to look at Venus and the Moon in the natal chart)They want to literally get under their partner's skin and breathe the same air. Their love is constant, but very demanding.

5.Pluto is a planet of change, and the 5th house embodies creativity, so such people can be music lovers, often change their style of clothing and their appearance.

6.I notice that the language of love for such people is a physical touch.

7.A man who loves competitions. Firstly, they know how to win.Secondly, they have good endurance.Thirdly, they do not see obstacles.The only disadvantage is that a person can go against the rules and cheat.It's better not to argue with them.

Pluto in the 6th house:

1.Good immunity.A person rarely gets sick and he is physically hardy.(but you need to look at the rest of the placements)

2.The very kind of employee who wants to improve working conditions. He will not be silent if he is not allowed to go on vacation or on sick leave, not to agree to work overtime without additional pay. Responsible, but very demanding employee. Treats colleagues with respect, but tries not to start a friendship at work.

3.With tense aspects with other planets, this is an indicator of workaholism to your detriment. A person can harm his health due to lack of rest and sleep.

4.An indicator that a person may think too much about their health and body. Often Pluto in the 6th house is found in hypochondriacs, people with an eating disorder.

5.Often such people experience impostor syndrome, as they cannot fully accept their achievements.

6.This is a great placement for leadership positions.Such people know how to manage and motivate people.The only downside is that they can go too far and be too overbearing and demanding of their employees.

7.Their emotional state is stronger than that of other people, affects their health.The stomach and skin are especially vulnerable.

Pluto in the 7th house:

1.This placement is most often found in the natal charts of people who have experienced an unpleasant experience in love (divorce, toxic relationships, infidelity, death of a partner)

2.Many of them have a person who can unsuccessfully seek their hearts for several years.

3.With tense aspects with other planets, this is an indicator that a person can be sacrificial in a relationship. Sometimes I find this placement in the natal charts of people who have been subjected to domestic violence.

4.This is one of the indicators of late marriage.

5.The 7th house represents not only a partner, but also enemies. Such people could survive betrayal from the closest people, after which they began to experience trust problems.

6.A person who gives good relationship advice, but doesn't follow it himself.

7.Such people tend to fall under the influence of a partner. (but you also need to look at the other placements in the natal chart).It is important for them to learn to appreciate their hobbies, their character and their dreams, and not to change them because of a partner.

Pluto in the 8th house:

1.Fatalist. This man has been convinced more than once in his life that everything that is not being done is for the best.

2.An indicator of high libido (but you also need to look at Mars and the Sun).They are active and good at sex.

3.I noticed that these people always had a case when they almost died. Many of them had an accident.

4.They understood what karma is from birth. All the bad things always come back to them, as well as the best. Their enemies always get what they deserve.

5.Strong energy (somewhat similar to Pluto in the 1st house). During a conversation with them, you can be filled with energy for the rest of your life.They seem to be out of this world.

6.Possible mental problems.As well as psychological diseases (depression, ocd, adhd, etc.), and diseases of the central nervous system.Many of them suffer from insomnia, seizures or panic attacks (but for this you need to study the natal chart in detail)

7.Such a person is prone to hyperfixation on something. It is important for him to develop comprehensively so that his thoughts are not limited to one idea.

Pluto in the 9th house:

1.A person who likes to study other cultures.Perhaps he listens to a lot of foreign music, learns languages and watches travel shows.

2.There are two extremes here (you need to look at the natal chart).Or a person completely denies higher education and believes that it is not necessary in the modern world.Or on the contrary, he considers it the most important and seeks to get several.

3.A person who thinking on your feet.His mind is very active, but long-term memory can often be confused.

4.This is a person who is able to get information out of the ground.A good placement for detectives.

5.I often meet this placement in the natal charts of lawyers, police officers, people from social services.They try to change the world for the better because of a high sense of justice.Often there are philanthropists among them.

6.With tense aspects with other planets, such a person could be forced to move to another country or city because of poor living conditions.

7.A very inquisitive person. He's easy to learn on his own, so don't be surprised if he acquired most of his skills from the internet.

Pluto in the 10th house:

1.This placement is most often found in the natal charts of people whose profession literally saves someone's life (doctor, military, firefighter, etc.)

2.They are very purposeful and stubborn people. If they argue, they argue to the end. If they work, they definitely go for a promotion.The type of person who doesn't listen to someone's advice.

3.Such people tend to postpone some savings until old age.For example, to purchase additional real estate or find a source of passive income.In matters of finance, they think very big.

4.They respect reputable people, but they are not afraid of them.They don't care about your position, job and income, you will always be an ordinary person.

5.I noticed that these people are often stalked on social networks.People admire and envy them a little.

6.Their thinking is very practical.(but you need to look at the natal chart) Their logic gets the better of their emotions.They are not cold-blooded, but rather realists.

7.Such people are more likely than others to face rivalry at work or when applying to university.

Pluto in the 11th house:

1.Such people stopped communicating with people more often than others because of changes in their lives.

2.With tense aspects with other planets, such a person may fall under the influence of bad company or toxic friends.

3.This person believes in lifelong friendship and is looking for someone with whom he will be himself, but instead he is even more horrified with other people.

4.This placement is often found in the natal charts of volunteers, school/university activists. Such people like to work in a team and are often led by them.

5.Such people don't really like to express their opinions in a group (but you need to look at Mercury and the Sun).They would rather choose a compromise than defend their choice.

6.A good placement for influencers. Such people have more chances to gain popularity.

7.Also, with tense aspects with other planets, this is an indicator of a social phobe.A person does not trust and is afraid of people.He is comfortable in his loneliness because of trust issues.

Pluto in the 12th house:

1.A person who is used to asking for advice from others.It is easier for him to ask the opinion of several people, think about everything and only then make a decision.

2.This is a good placement for psychologists and psychiatrists. These people are interested in the human soul from a scientific point of view.Perhaps they are fond of philosophy and have read the works of famous psychiatrists and philosophers.

3.The people who keep secrets the best.And their own too:)

4.Such people need to periodically restore their energy while alone and turn off the phone. So don't be surprised if this person disappears for a week, he's just resting.

5.In such people, intuition works most strongly through dreams and signs. Pay attention to information from the outside.

6.Life seems to deliberately confront these people with their fears. Although these people do not seem at first glance brave and courageous, in fact they are very strong.

7.I noticed that such people prefer to work alone.

[gucciwins]

harry brings his girlfriend home to meet his family but it does not go as planned

word count: 5896

a/n: enjoy this story inspired by a lovely anon. happy reading, my sweet friends 💜

+

Y/N was nervous. 

She squeezed Harry’s hand, trying to ground herself, but it seemed to transport her to the first time they met at the diner down the street from her apartment. 

Going to university in Los Angeles wasn’t glamorous, not when she had endless bills to pay to keep a roof over her head. She had gone to Martha’s Cakes, a small diner ten minutes from her apartment that served the best hot chocolate. The food was good too but the hot chocolate is what she ordered each visit without fail. It’s a place she’d eat when Y/N had a bit of extra to spend on herself. Instead of buying herself new shoes, or another jelly cat bag charm (Otto, the sausage dog, went everywhere with her) she decided on eating a good meal that didn’t consist of ramen or buttered noodles. She came here when she needed a pick me up or simply wanted to have a nice conversation. It was a late Tuesday in the Spring. Where the sun took longer to come down, allowing her extra time at the bar to do assignments and chat with Antonio about the best produce sales. Y/N had her head down working on an essay due two weeks from now. It was based on one of Los Angeles buildings; it could be based on the oldest church to the Dodger Stadium. Y/N decided on the Avila Adobe residence. Known as the oldest standing residence in the City of Los Angeles. Olvera St. was a famous street and was filled with history. It was one of her favorite places to walk through. 

As she was looking through photos, taking notes of significant dates, a patron sat next to her. Y/N didn’t bother seeing who it was, simply scooting her scattered papers closer to her, tucking a few under her laptop. 

“It’s not bothering me.” A man spoke. 

It startled Y/N only because he had a deep British voice. It felt odd to be hearing in such an unknown area. 

“Darla would throw coffee on it if she saw I was bothering a customer.” 

“I said it’s okay.” 

Y/N laughs. “She would say it wasn’t.” 

It seems the man lets it drop as he has nothing to reply. Y/N keeps up with updating her notes as she hears the man order a stack of the lemon poppy pancakes. Those were her favorite, Y/N would get them when she was having a bad day because it would without a fail make her smile. Y/N worked in silence over the next half hour when she felt the need to step to the restroom. Y/N did not want to pack up. Usually she asks a staff member to watch her items, but the diner seemed to be a bit busier. She looked around and her eyes landed on the pancake guy who had his headphones on. She hated bothering people, but he looked kind enough. 

Y/N tapped next to his plate to get his attention. It worked because in seconds he slipped off his headphones and had turned his whole body to look at her. It gave her the chance to look at him fully for the first time. He had a buzz cut, and it looked really good. He had slight stubble, but what captured her attention were his bright jade eyes. It felt like he was staring deep into her soul.

“Do–uh–Would you please watch my stuff? I have to use the ladies’ room.”

“Course. Guard it with my life.” 

Y/N thanked him and hurried away. When she came back, the man had slightly shifted over, his eyes staring intently at the dark screen of her laptop. 

“Thank you,” she shot him a smile. Waking up her screen and getting back to her assignment, except she couldn’t get the man out of her head. 

The dimples were something she focused on when he smiled, telling her it was no problem. Then his green eyes were so beautiful she felt she had seen them before. Though she could swear she had never met him before. She did have a weird feeling she had seen him before. Once it hit eight o’clock, Y/N knew it was time to call it. Y/N had her rough draft ready and could continue tomorrow. For now, she’d walk home and take a bath to wash away today’s day. 

Y/N was packing up and could see the green-eyed gentleman was too. She would hate herself if she didn’t ask him where she knew him from, if she knew him. Y/N had her bag strapped on her shoulder and turned to him for the last time. 

“Excuse me, sir?”

He turned, as if he was waiting to hear from her. “Yes?” 

“How do I know you?” 

The man’s smile dropped. He looked confused, so she didn’t know him. 

“Don’t think we’ve met, until today, Y/N.”

Y/N’s frown deepens. “I didn’t tell you my name.”

He pointed to her bag. She looks down at the red stitching displaying her name. Well, now she looked dumb. Of course, he could read. “You look familiar to me. Sorry if that’s weird.”

The guy clears his throat, shaking his head. “I get that a lot.” 

That’s odd, Y/N thought. 

“I feel like I know you,” she tried one last time. 

“Promise we don’t know each other. I would remember someone as beautiful as you.” 

Y/N’s jaw dropped (not literally), but her face felt warm. Fuck, she was not expecting this turn of event. “Ha, uh. I want to say me too, but uh, there’s something familiar about you.” 

Harry chuckles as if he knows something she doesn’t. 

“Can I walk you out?” He asks. 

She nods. He leaves a large tip and follows her to the exit. Y/N ways to Sonia, who shoots her thumbs up, but Y/N has no idea why. Y/N and the man linger outside the door, waiting to see who makes the first move. 

“Well, uh, can I have your Instagram?” Y/N asks, not knowing if asking for his number was too forward. At least this way she could stalk him for a bit. 

“Oh, I don’t use that. I can give you my number,” he counters. 

Y/N perks up. “That works.” She hands him her phone where she watches his hands type in his phone number into her contacts. He hands her back her phone, and she looks at the newly added contact. 

Harry S. 

It seemed that’s all she needed for her to connect the dots. She lifts her head up and Harry has a flushed face. He didn’t look away from her, almost waiting to see what she’d say. 

Y/N not sure how to break the silence. “Harry Sanchez?” 

Harry laughs, and it’s all the confirmation Y/N needs. “More like Styles.” 

“Oh.” 

Did she fuck up her chances? She feels like she didn’t. She got his number. 

“What can I use your number for?” She asks, wanting to double check. He still wants her to have it.

“Hopefully for us to plan a date.” 

“Even after this,” she points between them as if to explain what they know just happened. 

“I’d like to see where it could go.” 

“Shit, uh. Well–I’m free Thursday.” Harry smirks, making her want to crawl in a hole because now she feels desperate. “I’m going to leave.”

Harry stops her by grabbing her hand. “I think Thursday is perfect. Are you up for a sunset dinner by the beach?” 

“Sounds perfect,” she promised him. 

“Good. Thursday it is.”

Now she is standing in front of his childhood home, about to meet his mother and older sister. Y/N had spoken to his mother, Anne, on the phone a few times, but his sister was always busy when Harry tried to pass her the phone. Harry promised her it would go well, but she feared the worst. Their story was genuine but to others could sound fabricated but come on, no one knows Martha’s cakes, it’s not even on Yelp. It’s a place once stumbled upon and then shares the magic with people in their life. 

Harry said he felt like coffee and walked for a while until he saw people walk out. The smell of coffee is what drew him in, but the pretty girl he sat next to had him stay for hours. It’s something he shared months down the line. Y/N and Harry had now been together for nine months. Because of her Master’s Y/N had no time to travel. Harry visited home often, but Y/N couldn’t drop everything she was doing to go with him. He understood, but she felt his family wouldn’t. Harry met her dad and twin brothers six months into dating because they lived down in San Diego, only a two-hour drive from them. While Harry’s family lived an ocean away and she refused for him to pay for her flight to London. On top of that, she had classes and exams to worry about that did not allow her to hop on a flight for a week. Thankfully, she made it through the winter semester and had a few weeks off from her internship before going back for her last semester. Y/N knew graduation was just around the corner, and thankfully, had little debt to pay off.

Harry held her tight as he led her up the steps. Y/N was walking slower, trying to prolong the introduction. In her mind, she hoped she was simply psyching herself out and that things actually went well with Harry’s family. That they accepted her because they could see how much she loved him. 

“You ready, Lovie?” Harry flashed her a dimpled grin.

Truthfully, she wanted to say no, but Y/N couldn’t do that to him. Not when he was bouncing with excitement. “Ready.” She confirmed. 

Harry gave two loud knocks and then opened the front door. Y/N stood behind him as he rushed to embrace his mother. Anne was a sweet woman, much shorter than Harry, but by the tight embrace she held Harry, Y/N could tell she was strong. 

Anne gave Harry two big kisses, one on each cheek, before turning her attention to Y/N. 

“Y/N!” Anne cheered. She said it with so much delight, it surprised Y/N. 

In a matter of seconds, someone tightly wrapped Y/N in a hug, which she quickly reciprocated. “It’s lovely to meet you, Mrs. Twist.” 

Anne waved her off. “Call me Anne, my dear.” 

“Anne,” Y/N repeated.

“Now come in and tell me all about the trip. Did he trick you into going to that fancy lounge where you get free food?” Y/N giggled because Harry indeed took her to a fancy lounge when he said he was taking her to get a smoothie. 

Y/N spared a smile at Harry, but it was quick to fall when Y/N met another pair of eyes in the kitchen, looking at her with an intense stare. It dropped quickly because her attention shifted to Harry. Y/N focused back on Anne, trying to brush off the moment as something she imagined. 

Y/N tried her best to ignore the pit forming in her stomach. There was no need to worry. Harry talked about wonderful things about his family. She was in safe hands. At least that’s what she kept reminding herself.

+

Y/N didn’t feel welcome. Anne was a gem, but Gemma was cold and looked bored whenever Y/N said a word. Y/N wondered if Harry picked up on it. He hadn’t said a word. Harry was home and had no time to deal with Y/N’s insecurities. She had to be reading into Gemma, not liking her. Harry spoke the world of his older sister. He said she was his best friend, someone whose opinion he valued. Fear struck her. If Gemma didn’t like her after this visit, she knew that as soon as she got on that plane to go home, Harry would be breaking up with her. At least she’d had several hours to cry about on the plane pathetically.  

“There’s no way she didn’t know who you were,” Gemma scoffed, unbelieving of their story. 

Harry brushed off her comment as if she said nothing. “Gem, I was bald.” 

“Your face didn’t change.”

Harry sighs, “no, but you did a double take when I showed up to your doorstep to show you.” 

Gemma frowns, knowing he was right. “Whatever, you were all over twitter.” 

Harry is beginning to pick up on his sister’s defense and knows to drop it but will be picking it up with her later. “Anyway. Sitting next to each other, she asked me to watch her stuff when she had to use the restroom.”

“To look you up,” Gemma coughs.

Y/N fidgets in her chair, wanting to be anywhere but here. Harry continues with his story. “She thanked me and went back to her work. Before she left, Y/N asked if we knew each other, but I told her we didn’t. I wouldn’t forget someone as beautiful as her.” 

“Charming,” Anne gloats. “My charming boy.” 

Harry finished the story, stating it was meant to be. He had loved spending the time in Los Angeles getting to see the city through Y/N’s eyes. It’s a city she’s been living in for a couple of years. There was a lot for her to share with him. Harry had taken a liking to her favorite coffee shop. It had a design resembling a greenhouse and filled with plants, mainly featuring dried lavender. Truthfully, he spent a lot of time there because it was Y/N’s preferred place to study because it never got busy. Y/N called it her hidden gem. 

“I’ve never been happier,” Harry shares. Y/N beams at his words but can’t help glancing at Gemma, who can’t help but look sick to her stomach at hearing this news.

Dinner passed dreadfully slowly. Y/N comments when she needs to but honestly hopes to disappear for the night soon, no longer wanting to burden Gemma with her presence. While Anne showed Y/N where she could freshen up, Harry stayed downstairs to share a nightcap with his sister. 

Anne comes back to join them, but Gemma bites her tongue until their mother bids them goodnight. Harry gives his mother a tight embrace, commenting on how much he missed her. Gemma was happy her younger brother was home. 

“Are you happy, Harry?” Gemma breaks the silence that had fallen between them.

Harry sighs, “never been happier.” 

Gemma frowns, because she believes him. “I-I-nevermind.” 

Harry frowns because Gemma is never someone to stop herself from saying what’s on her mind. “Hey,” he places his hand on top of hers. “It’s me. Your annoying younger brother, you can tell me anything.” 

She removes her hand from under his and places them on her lap. “I don’t think she’s right for you.”

Harry sits back, surprised. “Sorry?”

“It’s clear she’s after something.” 

He’s having a hard time believing his sister. “Like what?”

“Your money.” 

“Is that all I’m good for?” He asks, baffled. 

“No. That’s why I’m telling you. She’s after one thing.” 

“How would you know?”

“Come on,” Gemma scoffs. “She goes to a prestigious school with a cost that no one could afford. It’s clear she wants you to pay for it.” 

“Gemma, I met her during her last year.”

“Debt doesn’t go away overnight,” she fights back. “She’ll get you to pay off her loans and leave you.”

Harry’s anger is overwhelming him. 

“You don’t even know her. Yet you say bad things about her.” It shuts Gemma up, and he uses that to his advantage and walks away.

“We saw the donation you made,” Gemma comments before he can make it up the stairs. 

He turns back, trying his best to swallow down his anger. “If you would have asked me, you would know it’s for the music program. I did that for several universities if you would have taken the time to do a bit more research. It grants them a scholarship, plus pays for room and board.” 

Gemma has no response. Harry is now standing in front of her and Gemma is nervous. She had never seen her brother this upset. 

“What I do with my money is my problem. If she wanted me to send her money for a new car, I would. If she wanted me to buy her a piece of land, I would do it in a blink of an eye. If Y/N asked me to give her every last dime in my account, I would do it without a second thought because I love her. I love her and she loves me. You know, five minutes is not enough to judge her. I do not have to tell you of her financial issues, but I will so you can go home tonight and sleep knowing how upset I am with you. Y/N received the presidential scholarship covering her tuition for the three years she was there. Y/N has applied to hundreds of scholarships to cover her book fees, and has to take on an unpaid internship while working 40 hours a week to cover her rent. Y/N has not accepted a single dime from me for her school because she has gotten this far without me. Y/N only lets me pay for her seven dollar coffee every other day. Y/N would rather give every last dollar to me if I needed it instead of keeping it for herself. Y/N still sends money to her twin brothers for new shoes, or new backpacks, because she loves her family.” 

Harry is near tears but keeps going. “I love Y/N. You might not, maybe you never will, but that girl has been the best thing to happen to me. I’ve never been more cared for and loved since she entered my life. So please, don’t bother coming back tomorrow or the rest of the week unless you have an apology for her.”

Y/N is grateful Harry’s room connects to the bathroom because, while she finished getting ready, she thought she would ask Harry for a cup of water and instead stumbled upon a conversation she shouldn’t have. Y/N tries her best to swallow her tears, but it’s no use. They’re more powerful than her. They stream down and Y/N decides to lie in bed, hoping by the time Harry comes in, she’s fast asleep. Y/N isn’t sure how much time has passed, but her tears have dried up and she’s as still as a rock when she hears Harry come in. She wants to tell him that she’s not worth defending if it means he’s messing up his relationship with his sister.

She hears him get ready for bed. Y/N knows he’s folding his clothes and placing them on the chair. He’s meticulous about his night-time routine. He crawls into bed next to her. Y/N tries her best to steal her breathing to make it seem like she’s sleeping, but Harry knows her too well. He scoots right behind her, his hand sliding over her hips and settling on her stomach, right by the scar she got on her eight birthday when she fell off her bike. Harry rubs the lifted skin, where she got four stitches. 

Y/N lets out a deep breath, working up the courage to say something, but her throat is closed. She relaxes against him. All her tears dried up. She is beginning to feel better now that she’s with him. A kiss to her temple has her heart slowing down. This is what it is to be protected. 

“I’m sorry,” Y/N croaks out when she feels like enough time has passed. 

Harry pulls her tight against him. It fills her with ease. “How much did you hear?”

Y/N shakes her head. “I don’t want you to argue with your family.” 

“It’s only my sister,” he defends.

“She’s an important person in your life. You’ve always specified that.” 

Harry sighs. He leaves a kiss behind Y/N’s ear. “You are important to me, too.”

“You don’t need to be fighting. It’s not necessary.” 

“It is when she needs a wack to her head.” 

“Harry,” Y/N drags out. “I don’t want you burning bridges.”

Harry understood where she was coming from, but Y/N was not seeing how it affected him as well. “We’ll be fine. She’s my sister. We’ll talk in a few days. All this will be in the past.”

Y/N freezes, feeling as if someone dropped a cold bucket of water on her. If Harry believes everything will be alright with his sister, that means he sees himself forgiving her for what she said but also means he would be getting rid of the problem. Her. 

Harry was going to be breaking up with her. This started her tears to fall again, only this time she couldn’t keep quiet. They were pouring out of her at a quick rate. He was quick to sit up bringing Y/N with him.

“Hey, hey,” Harry cooed. “What happened? What did I do?”

“Y-y-you,” she stuttered. Nothing was coming out. 

He would not rush her. Instead, he shifted her to straddle his lap. Y/N tucked her head into his neck. Hary felt his neck dampen with tears. He pressed soft kisses to her hair, whispering “I love you,” hoping it would be enough to calm her. He snaked a hand under her night shirt softly running his nails up and down her back. Y/N curled in closer at the action. His sweet girl was feeling overwhelmed, and he felt awful because he wasn’t being helpful. 

Y/N pulled away. Her eyes were puffy and tears streaming down her cheeks. Harry still thought she was the most beautiful girl he had ever seen. Her hands moved from her side up to his neck, she settled them on his cheek. She caressed his face, calming him down. He hadn’t realized how overwhelmed he was, but it’s clear Y/N could see what he needed even in her moments of sadness. 

“I don’t want to lose you,” Y/N voiced. “I love you. I love you so much.”

Harry frowned. No one had said anything about him leaving. He would never dream of walking away from her. “I’m not going anywhere.” 

“But Gemma–”

He cuts her off. “Gemma doesn’t know you like I do. She is looking out for me and I know she meant no harm, but she went about all this wrong. She decided to judge us, judge you before getting to know you.”

Y/N did no wrong. She was nothing Gemma accused her of. Y/N knew that, of course she did, but Y/N hoped to impress his family, not make them upset. 

“I know you, Lovie. My mum knows you. Mostly, you know yourself. Your character speaks for you and it has never been anything but kind and loving.”

Harry’s words slowly begin to mend her heart.

“I love you, Harry.” 

He connects his lips with hers in a loving kiss. “I love you so much.” 

Y/N falls asleep to Harry’s voice as he sings her to sleep. It’s a lullaby he says his mum would sing when he had a nightmare. While Y/N didn’t know how tomorrow would go, she was happy to have Harry at her side.

+

The morning passed slowly between the three of them. They shared stories with Anne, Harry, catching her up on his upcoming plans. Y/N talked about her looming graduation and told Anne about her thesis project. Anne promised to make the trip for her graduation, something Harry couldn’t stop gloating about how she was top of her class on her way to graduate summa cum laude. Y/N had stepped outside wanting to enjoy all the open land Anne had. The cats happily roamed around Y/N as she settled in the grass. Y/N thought of her dad at home and what he’d have to say about the situation. He’d probably tell her to run while she could, but Y/N knew Harry was her person. Y/N laid down, closed her eyes and took in all the surrounding noise. She heard birds chirping, a purring in the distance and the rush of the wind hitting the wind chimes. It was perfect. 

There was a loud band that had Y/N sitting up in a hurry. She looked back and realized it was the back door. Anne had stepped out, Y/N could see Harry in the kitchen, hands moving rapidly, and she knew he wasn’t alone. Anne sat not to Y/N, neither of them saying a word. 

“My daughter owes you an apology.” 

“Anne–” 

She stops Y/N. “No, I raised her better than that. I’m not sure when she got so protective, but it’s clearly not for the best. Harry is nearing 30 he doesn’t need his sister looking out for him. While I’m glad they have each other, this was unnecessary. It caused a lot of hurt that should have never existed.” 

“Thank you.”

“You don’t have to talk to her if you’re not comfortable.”

Y/N didn’t know how to feel. She dreaded talking to Gemma, but Y/N knew she’d feel worse if she went home and never talked this out with her. “I’m willing. I-I might need time to forgive her.” 

Anne squeezed Y/N’s hand. “That’s perfectly alright. Now tell me about these brothers of yours.” 

Y/N spent the rest of the evening with Anne, forgetting about her problems. It isn’t until Harry called them both in for dinner that they realized they spent hours outside. 

Harry greeted her with a kiss.

Dinner went off without a hitch, the three of them sharing all kinds of stories. Mostly Harry interrupting Anne to tell her a new story about Y/N he remembered. Harry that night promised he was alright with Gemma. He was feeling hurt. Assured her he loved her, but needed time to move past it. 

Y/N woke up early the next morning and decided to go on a walk along the river. Harry told her it felt never ending. They had walked it once every day, but today she went alone, letting Harry sleep in but also have that extra time with Anne. As Y/N walked, she thought of her brothers and how they would love to be throwing rocks in the river. Y/N was sure one of them would even fall in on accident. The weather would pique her dad’s interest. He was a sunshine man. She was sure the gloomy weather would be too much for him to handle. 

Two hours later, Y/N came back and was taken aback by Gemma’s presence on the front steps of the house, holding a thermal mug. 

“Hi,” Y/N greeted. 

“Morning, nice walk?” Gemma asked. 

Small talk. It was safe. “Mhm, Harry showed me the trail he liked to walk on.” 

“Mmm…coffee?” Gemma offered.

“Uh, I’m okay,” Y/N rejected.

Gemma looked dejected, but continued on. “Do-Is it okay if we talk?”

Y/N nodded. “Sure.” 

Y/N approached Gemma sitting on the opposite end of the same step. She wouldn’t be the first to talk, but it looked like Gemma was figuring out her words. 

“I’m sorry” are Gemma’s first words. “I’m sorry talking about you behind your back, even more sorry that you overheard.” Gemma looks sincere, and Y/N nods for her to continue. “I love Harry. He’s the best brother, and a person in general. He cares so much that I fear he’s gotten screwed over so much in life because he trusts with his heart and not his head.”

Y/N frowns, because that’s one of the things she loves most about Harry. How welcoming he is with his kind nature and how much love he spreads every day whether it’s through his music or holding the door open for a stranger. It all adds up to show that he’s a person full of love.

“Those are his mistakes to make. His own hurt to go through. Life isn’t all sunshine.” Y/N tells her. 

Gemma sighs heavily. “I know. Sometimes I feel like he’s still the same kid who cried when I would go out without him.”

“That hasn’t been him for a long time.” 

“I know.”

It’s clear Gemma has something deeper than she has to figure out and talk with Harry about, but it seems that’s a bridge she’ll cross when she is ready. 

“I love Harry. I think we have a wonderful relationship.” Y/N knows Gemma might not want to hear this, but it is important he does. “Harry loves communication. I swear we’ve never had an argument that didn’t end in us making up. He gives me my space but makes sure to be near. I’m reminded of his love every second of every day, whether he’s with me or not. I’m not sure if I make him feel loved every minute, but I do my best to remind him in my actions and words. I’m big on writing notes. He’s received a few love letters. I’m sure he’d show you if you asked.” Gemma tries her best to hide her surprise, but it’s written all over her face. “I’ve only heard wonderful stories about you, Gemma. I’m sure they’re all true, but I know Harry thought we might become friends.” Y/N pauses. “Even if that doesn’t happen, I do want you to know I respect you. For however long I’m around, I know that I respect you, even if it might take some time for me to trust you.” 

Gemma has tears running down her face. “I’m sorry. I never provided you with an opportunity. I’m not sure why I didn’t. I am really sorry. Meeting the family is always hard, and I fucking ruined it.” 

“It’s not okay, but we’ll give it time. Time heals.” 

“Thank you for hearing me out.” Gemma tells her gratefully. 

Y/N smiles. “Are you joining us for breakfast? Harry promised to make lemon ricotta pancakes.” 

“I’d like that. I’ll head in soon. I want to finish my coffee.” 

Y/N heads inside, where she finds Harry at the stove wearing an apron. She wraps her arms around his waist, resting her head between his shoulder blades. 

“Morning, pretty girl.” 

Gemma looked dejected, but continued on. “Do-Is it okay if we talk?”

Y/N nodded. “Sure.” 

Y/N approached Gemma sitting on the opposite end of the same step. She wouldn’t be the first to talk, but it looked like Gemma was figuring out her words. 

“I’m sorry” are Gemma’s first words. “I’m sorry talking about you behind your back, even more sorry that you overheard.” Gemma looks sincere, and Y/N nods for her to continue. “I love Harry. He’s the best brother, and a person in general. He cares so much that I fear he’s gotten screwed over so much in life because he trusts with his heart and not his head.”

Y/N frowns, because that’s one of the things she loves most about Harry. How welcoming he is with his kind nature and how much love he spreads every day whether it’s through his music or holding the door open for a stranger. It all adds up to show that he’s a person full of love.

“Those are his mistakes to make. His own hurt to go through. Life isn’t all sunshine.” Y/N tells her. 

Gemma sighs heavily. “I know. Sometimes I feel like he’s still the same kid who cried when I would go out without him.”

“That hasn’t been him for a long time.” 

“I know.”

It’s clear Gemma has something deeper than she has to figure out and talk with Harry about, but it seems that’s a bridge she’ll cross when she is ready. 

“I love Harry. I think we have a wonderful relationship.” Y/N knows Gemma might not want to hear this, but it is important he does. “Harry loves communication. I swear we’ve never had an argument that didn’t end in us making up. He gives me my space but makes sure to be near. I’m reminded of his love every second of every day, whether he’s with me or not. I’m not sure if I make him feel loved every minute, but I do my best to remind him in my actions and words. I’m big on writing notes. He’s received a few love letters. I’m sure he’d show you if you asked.” Gemma tries her best to hide her surprise, but it’s written all over her face. “I’ve only heard wonderful stories about you, Gemma. I’m sure they’re all true, but I know Harry thought we might become friends.” Y/N pauses. “Even if that doesn’t happen, I do want you to know I respect you. For however long I’m around, I know that I respect you, even if it might take some time for me to trust you.” 

Gemma has tears running down her face. “I’m sorry. I never provided you with an opportunity. I’m not sure why I didn’t. I am really sorry. Meeting the family is always hard, and I fucking ruined it.” 

“It’s not okay, but we’ll give it time. Time heals.” 

“Thank you for hearing me out.” Gemma tells her gratefully. 

Y/N smiles. “Are you joining us for breakfast? Harry promised to make lemon ricotta pancakes.” 

“I’d like that. I’ll head in soon. I want to finish my coffee.” 

Y/N heads inside, where she finds Harry at the stove wearing an apron. She wraps her arms around his waist, resting her head between his shoulder blades. 

“Morning, pretty girl.” 

“Hi, Harry. I love you.” 

Y/N knows he’s grinning. “I love you too. Even if you left me alone this morning.” 

“I couldn’t sleep,” she defends. “You always told me a morning walk here cleared your head.” 

“And did it?” 

“Mmm…like magic.” 

“Are you okay, Lovie?” Harry turns off the stove. He turns around, setting his hands on Y/N’s waist. His hair makes her laugh as she sees it sticking in different directions. 

“We talked. She apologized. Promise I’m okay. It still hurts, but I’ll try my best to forgive her for you.” 

Harry tuts his tongue. “No, honey.” Y/N tilts her head, confused. “You don’t have to do this for me.” 

“But she’s your–”

“She’s my sister, but that doesn’t mean you have to change how you feel about me. I promise I am with you. She made a mistake, and I’ll forgive her but at my own time. You take your time as well.”

Y/N feels overwhelmed all over again because she really did get lucky with Harry. “I love you so much.”

“I love you more, my love. So much more.” 

Harry gives her a kiss. A promise that everything will be alright.

+

thank you for reading my beautiful friends! let me know your favorite parts