#such a shame. i like the old man glasses on him honestly

[tazmiilly]

a snippet of conversation

[dearsnow]

12:29 AM

- your normally sober husband comes home drunk out of his mind after a party, and you can’t say that he’s any less sweet. (robert “bob” floyd x wife!reader, fluff, honestly one of the cutest things i’ve ever written, ⚠️ obviously heavy themes of alcohol and being drunk, sexual innuendos but nothing graphic)

word count: 1,502

a/n - i haven’t written a fic with a timestamp as the title in… (checks old blog) over three years?!? in any case, i hope you guys like drunk!bobby as much as i do <3 he’s definitely an emotional/clingy drunk imo.

It’s not often that your husband stays out late, and it’s not often that he doesn’t text you while he’s out, but you trust him. He’s not the type to get blackout drunk or come home stumbling through the doorframe. Robert Floyd is a clearheaded and strong man.

Well, he looks neither right now, as he’s supported by Jake and Javy’s arms, glasses slipping off the bridge of his nose and a dopey smile brightening his face. Jake looks at you apologetically— as apologetic as he can get for a situation that’s likely his fault. “Sorry, hun.” He huffs, shifting around Bob’s weight. “There were a few too many fruity drinks ordered, and I guess he didn’t realize they were full of alcohol.”

“You guess?” You ask, rubbing the space between your eyebrows with your fingers. The two more sober men lead Bob into your bedroom, half-dragging him. They lay him down on your shared bed with a softened thump that has him groaning on top of the sheets. “I can’t believe you guys.”

Bob went out with the rest of the squad for some coworker’s promotion celebration, and he promised to come home perfectly sober, as always. He doesn’t even need to promise, if you’re being honest, because that’s just how he is; the most levelheaded person in the room. He would stay until it was socially acceptable for an acquaintance to leave, then he would head home and help you cook dinner to your favorite old school tunes. You never expected to see him shitfaced at 12:29 AM.

Javy shakes his head as he steps around you, taking Jake for a clean escape. “We tried to warn him. I hope he feels better in the morning, but until then, we’re gonna have to leave him with you.”

You sigh, eyebrows just as pinched as they were before. For the first time ever, you’re scared that Bob is going to die in his sleep, and the thought frustrates you to no end. “Thanks. It’s so great that he’s drunk out of his mind, but I have to give you credit for getting him here in one piece.” Your tone is sarcastic enough to get the two men cringing in shame, but you also know that without them, he might still be at that party.

Jake pats you on the shoulder. “Good luck, soldier. You’ll need it.”

With that, Javy and Jake walk out of your bedroom, past your living room, and out of your house like they couldn’t wait to leave. As you hear them close the door, you look down at your husband.

He’s still conscious, thankfully. His eyes are slightly unfocused, he’s blushing like a madman, and he’s groaning lightly, but he’s not completely gone yet. You brush the damp hair away from his forehead and he whines just a bit.

“Wife.”

You quirk your eyebrow in confusion. “Yes?”

“I… have a wife. Y’ can’t touch me like that.” He mumbles. It feels like he’s looking past you. Despite everything, you feel like laughing.

You adjust his glasses on his face and lean over him a little more, fully in his field of vision. “I am your wife.”

His eyes widen like he’s seeing you for the first time, and he smiles crookedly. He tries to sit up, but only manages to prop himself up on one arm as he takes in the sight of your face. “S’ pretty. You’re really my wife? My girl?” In combination with the slurred words of someone down in the cups, the slight southern accent he took so much time to push away is coming back as he speaks to you.

“Yes.” You confirm, kissing him on the cheek. He somehow smiles even wider and reaches out to touch the apples of your cheeks.

“Love you. I missed you.” He mumbles. “Spent that whole party wonderin’ when I could see you again.” He flops back down onto the springy mattress, throwing his arms up. He moves with the precision of a toddler, his limbs seemingly coated in lead. He almost smacks the glasses off his face as he motions to you with grabby hands.

“I missed you too, honey. Can we get you into your pajamas? I’m sure you don’t want to sleep in jeans and a polo.” As you ask that question, his fingers are already attempting to pull the shirt off of his body. It doesn’t work very well, considering he’s still laying down, but you appreciate the effort. “Sit up, my love.”

He sits up, winking at you heavily. It’s more like a slow blink with how long it takes him to do it. “Can’t wait to get me naked?”

A laugh escapes your mouth, and you smother the rest of your giggles with the heel of your palm as you gaze at his slightly crestfallen face. He’s funny when drunk, apparently, even when he isn’t trying to be. It’s like seeing him completely unhinged with none of his usual, careful filters. “Sure. You need to be in some state of undress to get your pajamas on, anyways.”

His face falls into a slight pout as you help him unbutton the top of his polo and slide it up his chest. He seems to notice how your hands hesitate when meeting the warm, taut skin of his abs, and the pout fades instantly. “Like it?”

“I always do.” You hum. He does have a great body, one that you’ve found to be extraordinarily hot. Strong arms, tight muscles, and yet a gentleness in the way his hands hold yours. Right now, though, it’s a bit of a problem as you’re attempting to get his jeans off. He’s still sitting, and you think you could lift weights for ten years and not be able to pull them out from under him. “Can you stand, Bobby?”

“Gladly.” He sings. You help him stand, supporting a bit of his weight. He seems to find a little bit of his footing as his other arm presses into the wall, allowing the both of you to shimmy his pants down his legs and kick them to some unknown corner of the room.

You gather his neatly folded pajamas, a soft shirt and some plaid flannel pants, and help him put them on. Luckily for you, he’s been revitalized by your touch and is a little more helpful now. He’s still moving awkwardly and shifting around like he’s constantly trying to get his balance straightened out, but it’s better than nothing. It would be hell to get him to do anything other than dress, though, so you settle for just getting him in bed. His dental hygiene routine will have to wait.

You lay him back down after he’s dressed and pull the blankets up to his chin, kissing his forehead gently and tucking his glasses in your dresser drawer. You’re already ready for the night (the perks of thinking he would come home three hours ago), so you slip in bed next to him. He immediately pulls you into his arms, his body comfortingly warm. He’s always run just a little hot, which is amazing on cooler nights like this.

He sighs contentedly before moving to stare directly into your eyes. “Y’know,” he starts, “I can’t sleep without your arms ‘round me, and your legs ‘round me, and you breathing all sweet on my neck. ‘M up all night when I’m deployed, at first anyways. My carrier roommates hate it.”

You shift just enough as to where your body is clutching on to him as tight as possible, and he hums in relief. It’s like the little tension that he was holding dissipated entirely. “I’m sorry, baby. That must be hard.” You soothe.

“Payback gave me his pillow once so I could wrap it in my arms, but it didn’t help. He threatened to ‘come up there n’ cuddle me himself’ if I didn’t stop moving.” He scrunches his eyes closed at the memory. You do your best to suppress another bout of laughter, but he makes it even harder when he shivers like he isn’t covered in three layers of blankets and you.

“Did he ever follow through?” You ask, pressing your lips together to stop from smiling. Bob shakes his head.

“Thank god he didn’t.” He utters. You turn to shove your face into your pillow to muffle your expressions. He just keeps his eyes closed, completely unaware of the fact that you’re losing it next to him.

When you finally come up for air, he is drifting in and out of sleep. “Love ya. G’night.” He whispers. It’s so soft that you almost start laughing again.

“Good night, Bobby. Love you too.” You say, kissing his cheek. You click off the lamp on your bedside table and snuggle deeper into his grasp.

He’s going to have one hell of a hangover in the morning. At least he’ll have his wife, breakfast in bed, and an aspirin to take care of him.

Taglist: @seitmai

[seresinhangmanjake]

From Two to Four

Single Dad!Jake Seresin x Single Mom!reader

Summary: a trip to the movie theater with your son becomes more eventful when you meet a man and manage to save his daughter's birthday from being ruined.

notes: this is going to be a mini series from @rosiahills22 request :)

warnings: none.

Words: 841

----

PART 1:

Your arm is being yanked on but that isn't unusual. With the way your son is, you're surprised you've not had a trip to the hospital to have your shoulder shoved back into its socket. He's strong for his age, and with the handful he is already, you just know you're in for more surprises as he ages; ones you can only hope you'll know how to tackle on your own.

Jamie pulls you through small crowd after small crowd in his effort to make it to the treats. Only when you're in line does he drop your hand so he can press his nose against the glass shelf displaying every variety of candy he could possibly want. A sugar-high child was not in your plans for the day, but you refuse to dull his excitement.

"Mommy, can we get rainbow gummies?"

His voice blends with a sudden cry, and you turn your head to find a small girl leaning against one of the theater's decorative pillars. Her blue tutu is scrunched in her little hands, and the bedazzled tiara on her head is beginning to slip sideways. Softly brushing away her tears is a man crouched in front of her. He tries to right her crown as her finger shoots directly toward the large movie poster behind the man's head.

"Daddy!"

"I know, baby, I know. But it’s sold out," he sighs. "We'll come back tomorrow, OK? I'm sorry."

He stands straight and takes her hand, a look of utter heartbreak marring his handsome features when he begins to lead her past you toward the door. 

"Excuse me,” comes out of your mouth without a thought. 

When he pauses, the little girl nearly bumps into the back of his calf. His eyes meet yours, and the tenseness tightening his brow and the line of his lips soothes. 

“I don’t mean to bother you, but I have two extra tickets to the same movie if you want them."

A dark blond brow raises. “You’re going to see The Dragon Princess of Amethyst Mountain 2?”

“Well, the first one had such a gripping storyline." You chuckle at the amused expression on his face. “My son is with me,” you say and look behind you at the boy all but licking the glass case in anticipation. “Jaime, come here, sweetheart.”

Candy magically forgotten, Jamie bounds over to you with the widest of grins, stopping right beside you to stare up at the man.

“Hi!” he says loudly and clearly, with a certain confident authority only a four-year-old could possess. “I’m Jameson “Jamie”.

The man laughs. “Hi Jameson “Jamie”, I’m Jake, and this is Olive.”

Jamie’s eyes immediately go to the girl. His head tilts. “Like the snack?”

“Jamie, honey, don’t say–”

“Yea,” the girl pipes up, her tiny fist rubbing at the dried tears below her eye. 

Your boy's eyes light up, and you know what he's about to say before it exits his mouth. “I love olives!”

"Really?"

"Yep yep!"

Jake chuckles, releases his daughter's hand, and moves to stand beside you so he may join you in watching your children form an instant bond. 

"Just so you know," he says, leaning closer, "I didn't name my child after a food, intentionally."

You don't care what and why he named his child as you watch Jamie take an immediate liking to her. He needs a friend, and you've never seen him invested quite so quickly. 

"Hey, I don't judge," you reply, making the man laugh again. You're starting to like it. It's deep and husky and has an intoxicating element that wants to lure you into your own fit of giggles. 

"I'm Jake," he formally introduces, sticking out his hand for you to shake. You do so as you offer your name in return. "So how did you end up with extra tickets to the best movie in town?"

"I've got a sister who's a flake and a brother-in-law with a missing backbone," you say before clicking your tongue. "Which is a shame, honestly, because I think he really wanted to see it."

"Well, I hate to say I'm thankful for that, but you've just saved my daughter's birthday, so…"

"Daddy," Olive calls, her entire mood having taken a complete shift, "can we get rainbow gummies?"

"Sure, baby."

Jamie and Olive jump up and down, their hands tightly clasped together. Then your son hurriedly leads the girl back over to the candy case to show her everything she's about to enjoy.

"How old?" you ask.

"Four."

"So is Jamie."

As if on cue, Jamie looks back at you. "Mommy, and cookie dough bites?"

"Your boy's got a good appetite," Jake says, crossing his arms and nodding his head Jamie's way. 

"Oh, just you wait. He'll want–"

"And popcorn, Mommy?"

You snort. "See?"

Jake's eyes travel over your face, pulling forth a light blush that you can already feel heating your cheeks. His wide open lips display pearly whites, and there is a glint in his gaze when he says, "Well we better get them their snacks then."

---

A/N: More to come for this little series! I hope you liked it :)

tags: @wkndwlff @sagittarius-flowerchild @dempy @kmc1989 @oliviah-25 @xoxabs88xox @matisse556 @hardballoonlove @ssa-sadboi @lynnevanss @pono-pura-vida @tgmreader @amgluvsbooks @ravenhood2792

[haveihitanerve]

Hey gamer, had a funny idea like 2 hours ago and just remembered it again

I need someone to write an outsider's POV (like foreigner of Gotham) of someone visiting Gotham to see family, and no matter where they are, they hear about Bruce Wayne.

They hear about all the good things he's done, how ditzy yet kind he is, but also how fucking pretty and or hot he is.

Of course, being an outsider who's never HEARD about Bruce, this person doesn't care. But one day, they search him up, and go into sheer shock because Omg this man is built like a Greek Adonis, why have I never heard of him

They ask a few Gothamites, and it's revealed Gotham gatekeeps Bruce Wayne to HELLL. No one is allowed to see how pretty their Prince is.

It's gotten to the point that Bruce Wayne's wiki page image is edited so his face is blurred because seeing his face would give you a heart attack

yesssss, this is just like my headcanon that Bruce literally doesn't smile at the League not because he doesn't want to or doesn't like them or smth, its just because if Barry went "hey sunshine!" To him like he does every morning, and Bruce turned around with his real, genuine, blinding smile that can put Dick's smile to shame, about four people would have a heartattack- because seeing Bruce in a full Batman suit? They can't handle it. Anyway-

Tramer (tf is this name??? anyway) hated Gotham. It was loud, and smelly, and had the weirdest way of controlling crime. Not that he was complaining about that last one, quite honestly, because it like, worked, somewhat, but it was still weird.

He hated visiting Gotham anyway, for any reason, even if his company was paying him big money to go. No one else, strangely enough, wanted to go to Gotham to review their public service.

Tramer glided around outside for a bit, examining park benches, stairs and ramps, elevators, and streetlights. Everything, extremely surprisingly, was up to date, worked well, and accessible to all sorts of people.

"Excuse me," he asked, tapping a young woman on the shoulder as she passed. "Do you know who funds the public services?" She glanced at him, smacking some chewing gum.

"Uhhh yeah. Bruce." Then she continued on, like she had just provided him the best answer in the world.

"oh yeah, Bruce." Tramer mocked, sighing as he made his way to the closest restaurant. He was starving, and the brochure he had picked up had highlighted this one as a safe place to eat and good for tourists.

The waiter smiled at him at the door and led him to a table, placing a menu in his lap and then exiting to help someone else.

"Oh by the way did you hear what Bruce did the other day?" The man in the booth behind him was saying.

"Adopt another kid?" His friend joked, sipping his water.

"Oh I know, the new green energy train right?" the third one added.

"Shut down that power plant that was dumping waste in the Harbor?"

"Clean up the sidewalk?"

"Help an old lady across the street?"

"Cure cancer?"

"Free up all Gothamites loans?"

"Make more clothes with pockets?"

They fired the suggestions back and forth, and the first friend snapped his fingers. "Oooh, actually I wish, his brand is really good, but no, he made some new housing. Like a shelter type thing. So, y'know, Crime Alley kids and homeless can sleep somewhere else besides their abusive parents and whatnot."

The two guys hummed in agreement. "Bruce fucking rocks." The third muttered, and the two others clinked their glassed together. "hear hear."

Tramer shook his head, finishing up his burger and fries. Whoever their friend Bruce was, was certainly a good person.

He dropped a few bills on the table and left, digging the brochure from his back pocket to see where else to go. He had some time to kill, and his meal had been pretty good.

"Wayne Museum; Learn Our History." The brochure suggested as a good place to visit. Tramer shrugged, sticking it back in his pocket as he made his way to said museum.

The train, the one the three dudes in the restaurant had been talking about, arrived right on time, and was free, so Tramer took it, taking a seat in one of the very nice train cars.

"Hey, watch it." One lady snapped at her son as he caused ruckus. "You do that again and I'll dump you at the next station." She warned, an empty threat, but the kid stuck out his tongue at her.

"Yeah?" he challenged. "then I'll get picked up by Bruce and he'll give me a home that actually cares about me!" The woman, rather than be offended, laughed, snuggling her son into her arms.

"Don't you threaten me with that man." She scolded, peppering kisses onto the giggling boys face.

"Yeah," Another man agreed, also having overheard the conversation. "Last I heard, his sons have all complained about how many vegetables he makes them eat. Makes them big strong."

The boy wrinkled his nose at that and the woman glanced at the man with a grateful smile, who winked back, returning to his seat.

"Bruce is a popular name I guess?" Tramer grumbled to himself as he made his way off the train and overheard at least four other people talking about how wonderful "Bruce" was.

He rounded the corner and came face to face with a billboard.

Gotham Protects Her Own

The billboard was an advertisement for safe housing, and at the bottom, in small letters, it said "Bruce Wayne funded."

The letters confused Tramer, because usually when someone did something good, they wanted to plaster their face everywhere, make it obviously and obnoxiously known that they were a "good person"

Still, Bruce Wayne? A lead, possibly, to who the fuck the Bruce is that everyone kept yammering on about.

"Hes so fucking fine." A nearby woman gushed, biting her lip just at seeing his name. "For real." A guy agreed, whistling through his teeth. "Prince for sure." The last member of their group laughed, and they continued on, swooning as they went.

"Attractive too?" Tramer grumbled. "Who is this goddamned guy?"

The museum was, angrily enough, also very good, and he heard at least twenty more people gushing about "Bruce" especially his physique.

Tramer finally had enough. "Sorry, but who is this guy?" He snapped, asking the front desk lady.

She smirked, waving a dismissive hand. "The guy who runs this whole place. Our Prince of Gotham."

Tramer gritted his teeth. He had heard the "Prince" line far too often. "Ok ok sure fine, but whats he look like. What does he do?"

At that the lady became a little cagey, sneering. "What does it matter? Huh tourist? Just take your fucking souvenir and get out!" She snarled, and suddenly two very burly security guards were there.

"okay okay, geez, I'm going!" Tramer stumbled out the door in confusion, heading to the next door bar. If no one would tell him, then he'd just have to google it.

He settled down in a booth and tugged out his company laptop, typing in Bruce Wayne.

... absolutely nothing came up. It was as if the man had been wiped from the database.

"excuse me," Tramer called, cautious, after the woman at the desk. The waitress came over, smiling pleasantly. "Yes?"

Tramer swallowed. "I just... wanted to know, what Bruce Wayne... who, what he looks like?" He asked, very softly. The girl snorted, covering her mouth. She glanced around, checking that no one was around, and scribbled something down onto the notebook in front of her, ripping out the page.

"Here. Use this WiFi instead." She advised quietly, before exiting as though she'd never even spoken.

Tramer typed in the new WiFi and password, and... lo and behold there he was. Beaming at Tramer from the screen was possibly the most attractive man he had ever seen. He began searching, googling, reading through articles and everything he could about the man...

and came up empty. There was no dirt on him. Not one person had something bad to say about Bruce Wayne, except for the fact that was he lightly airheaded on ocassion. That was it. Coupled with his Adonis features... it was almost unfair.

"Nah I'm out." Tramer slammed his laptop and left, heading back to Metropolis. His company could send someone else, he didn't care about the money. Let Gotham have their unfairly attractive, far too nice Rich boy. He was fine with just having Superman. Completely fine.

He turned the corner and ran face first into a brick wall. Except then the brick wall had arms, and was holding him, mumbling apologies.

"I'm so sorry sir, I wasn't watching where I was going," The man apologized, releasing him slowly. "Are you alright?"

Tramer looked up into the smiling face of Bruce Wayne. And promptly fainted.

[ghoulette-knell]

A Little Bit Tipsy:

Aether x Fem!Reader

You and Aether have some unspoken tension due to being so close to him throughout the Prequelle tour. A little bit of alcohol proves to loosen your tongue.

🔞MDNI🔞

TW: Drunk/High Sex; Friends to Lovers; Soft!Dom Aether; Hair-Pulling; Marking; Animalistic Sex (honestly from all of the sexual tension); Oral (male receiving); Dirty Talk; Fingering (female receiving); No Protection; Biting.

Word Count: 5,566

You and Aether, your best friend, were a little bit tipsy. Yeah, a little bit more than tispy...

The tour that Ghost had spent months travelling around the globe had just concluded for the week, so the two of you decided to drink and celebrate the fantastic performances. There had been some unspoken tensions between you and him for a while now, and you were feeling bold tonight. The two of you have been drinking for a few hours now, and although Ghouls had a higher tolerance for most things than humans, the two of you were beginning to feel the affects of the alcohol.

Aether took a small drink of his beer, which was his favourite beverage. His soft, amber eyes glanced at you through his silver mask as a short stream of foam floated down his glass, "I hope the Cardinal doesn't mind us hanging out. It's so deep in the tour at this point. I know the old man hates when we get distracted or take time off practicing.”

“Screw him,” you mumbled tiredly while leaning back against the couch, taking a shot of whiskey while staring off towards the wall, “I’m getting sick of his schedule for us Ghouls. He likes to believe that we don’t have social lives and we are just mindless drones, here to simply perform in his band.”

You had always been a little bit too outspoken when it came to Copia. Even though you were right in what you said, Aether didn't want to say it out loud and risk getting into trouble.

"I don’t think Cardinal Copia is necessarily in the wrong. He just doesn't care about our social lives. The band is all that matters to him."

Aether let out a small laugh, “And I think it's true. We're all replaceable after all."

You couldn't help but wince at Aether's last sentence. You were all replaceable... all of you.

You had been a member of the band when Ifrit was still the lead guitarist before young Sodo had come along. You and Aether both had been around before Copia had even come around, and Terzo had been the frontman, as well as the anti-pope of the ministry. Yet, so many of your friends had been replaced... Ifrit, Pebble, Omega. The list goes on and on.

None of you even knew why they had been replaced. It was simply done at random, which was what made moments like this scary. Would the Cardinal just replace everyone if they pissed him off?

"I don't like to think about that, Aether," you mumbled while leaning forward and grabbing your freshly-rolled joint off the table.

"I know," Aether responded softly, "But that’s why we can't become too careless and get attached. We'll get hurt that way. It's a damn shame that I'm already pretty attached to you. It'll really suck… if anything happens to either of us.”

He took another sip of his beer before speaking again, "Copia loves to remind us that we can be easily replaced. I get it, he likes having an air of authority over us. He likes to manipulate us into feeling grateful that we're in his band.”

"I want to get attached though," you mumbled, almost inaudible as you flicked your lighter to get your blunt lit, "I want to have lifelong friends in this band. I know I have you, but we have to keep our deep friendship a secret. I don't want to get sent back to Hell if I mess up one too many times. I don't want to get separated from you, Aether. That would be a fate worse than death."

His eyebrows raised at your last sentence. "Worst than death?"

You peered into his eyes and nodded. You meant what you said. You wouldn't get sent back to Hell without Aether. It just simply wasn't something that you would let happen. Not even Lucifer could pull you away from the rhythm guitarist.

Aether's mind was suddenly abuzz with countless thoughts. Was she just saying this because she was inebriated? Or was she genuinely implying something else?

He looked away for a moment, a bit embarrassed by his reddened cheeks, before he looked back to you, "Are you drunk?"

You scoffed and rolled your eyes. You hadn't expected this conversation to go in this direction, and honestly, the alcohol was to blame. You rarely let your stressors come afloat, especially around any of the other Ghouls. It was a sign of weakness, and you weren't weak by a longshot. However, you trusted Aether, and the alcohol definitely helped loosen that tongue of yours.

You flicked your tail slightly and took a drag from your blunt, coughing slightly as the smoke hit your lungs, "A little bit, but that doesn't change how I feel about any of this."

Aether seemed surprised by your answer, but you could see in his face that his eyebrow was not raised in judgment at all. Instead, he was taking a good long look at you, as if he was sizing you up. His cheeks were still red, which was a little strange for him.

He laughed softly, not making eye contact with you, "Does that mean you're genuinely afraid of losing me?"

You offered him a hit off of your blunt, unsure about whether or not he would take it. The alcohol was indeed making your tongue a bit looser than normal, but Aether did know how much he meant to you. He had to know how you felt about him.

"Yes. I don't want to ever lose you," you replied without hesitation, "If you got replaced and I was forced to stay in this band without you... I don't know what I would do. Whoever your replacement would be, I would hate them just because they replaced you. You are my best friend."

Aether took the offered joint, still not holding eye contact. This was a new side of you that he had never really seen before. Normally, you would try to hide the fact that you cared about him. You were very stoic whenever it came to things like this.

But tonight, you were telling him. No hiding it. In fact, there was something else there too...

Aether finally met your gaze, taking a long drag from the marijuana before speaking, "You know, you talk about me as if you’re in love with me."

You were completely speechless.

You didn't know how to respond.

Were you in love with Aether? You had always assumed it was some kind of puppy love phase that you were going through, or maybe a way to escape the harsh reality regarding the Satanic ministry that you lived to serve. It was a very stressful atmosphere, after all. Aether always offered a bit of relief, and often grounded you during moments like this.

"You act as if that's a surprise," you whispered after a few seconds, expelling smoke from your mouth and taking a few sips from your alcoholic beverage that sat on the coffee table.

You brain was beginning to buzz, which made your eyes slowly relax and sag.

Aether sat in silence for a couple of seconds. When he finally did speak, it was only to ask a single question. One that he had never asked before. One that had remained unspoken for so, so long.

"Do you love me?"

You licked your lips nervously and adverted your gaze down to the carpeted floor below. Suddenly, you were feeling shy and bashful.

Some thoughts you'd had about this exact moment began to eat at your stomach; scratching at it like a wild, caged animal. What if he wouldn't like you back?

You could handle the rejection. If that was the scenario, that would be manageable. Just swallow your sadness and pride, and keep going on with life as if it never happened. What you couldn't handle was a confession leading to awkwardness, and inevitably the end of your precious friendship with Aether.

This confession was beyond what you ever believed you could say to the other Ghoul.

“I suppose I do, yeah. I do love you, Aether.”

You took another sip of your drink, trying to advert your attention away from that risky confession. The alcohol was beginning to cause a vague cloud of haze to envelop your brain as you sat and waited for his response.

It was an agonizing wait. It was only a few seconds, but it felt like hours.

Aether finally closed his eyes, his cheeks a bright shade of red. His lips curled up into a tiny smile; his little fangs poking from his lips. He couldn't help but feel his heart swell in his chest, even though you weren't exactly looking at him right now.

His breath grew a little bit shaky when he finally spoke up again, but he was still a bit shy to make eye contact for now, "And you're sure this isn't just the drinking talking?"

You slowly brought your eyes back up to meet Aether’s, and shook your head, “You’ve known me for almost a year now, Aether. You have to know how I’ve felt about you all this time.”

Aether hadn’t said he loved you back though. Was he procrastinating? Did he not want to hurt your feelings? Why hadn’t he said it back yet?

His cheeks had grown even redder now. You'd certainly never seen him blush this much before. He laughed a little bit, his eyes now locked with yours, "I guess I thought this might have been a drunk confession... But I should have had a little more faith in you. My apologies."

Finally, he took a deep breath. He couldn't help the feeling of his heart beating so fast in his chest. He finally managed to say it.

"I love you too."

The instant relief that hit your body was unreal. The mix between the adrenaline rush over admitting your love to Aether, as well as the alcohol was slowly sinking away as those three perfect words left the Ghoul’s lips.

“Now it’s my turn to ask… that’s not just the booze talking, right?” you whispered, your cheeks flushing red to perfectly match the shade of red that was on Aether’s cheeks.

Aether couldn't do anything except chuckle. If anything, he was a little bit surprised that you would ask if this was just the alcohol speaking.

"Oh no, this is totally the booze talking," he said jokingly, only to be interrupted by a soft laugh. The colour had drained for your face, as you hadn’t realized off the bat that this was a joke.

The ghoul then quickly closed the distance between you two, making eye contact with you before leaning forward and placing a kiss on your forehead.

"No, I'm definitely not drunk… well, I'm a little drunk, but I feel this way sober too. I do love you, and I'm so glad you feel the same about me."

You leaned into his touch immediately. Your heart was hammering in your chest, and you were almost certain that Aether could hear it.

You couldn’t help it, though. Aether made you flustered no matter what he was doing.

Your cheeks flushed brighter as his lips grazed your forehead; your face turning upwards.

Your lips were only inches away from each other. You could feel Aether’s breath on your face; smell the beer on his breath. You could physically see the drunken desire beginning to cloud over his eyes.

“Are you sober enough to consent to me kissing you?” you asked huskily; your hand cupping his cheek in a loving, yet desirable manner.

Aether was certainly not used to the way you were acting right now. The way that you were leaning into him. Your hand cupping his cheek. The way that your lips were just inches away from his. This was different than usual.

"Am I sober enough?" he smirked, his own hands tracing up to your waist, one wrapping around it and pulling you closer, "I'm not sure. You should probably kiss me just to check. Just to make sure."

You exhaled and leaned forward, the multiple shots of whisky guiding your every move. You felt as if you could start crying from sheer happiness over this moment! This was beyond anything you ever believed could happen. Your lips sheepishly brushed against his; your heart leaping into you throat. Your claws slowly crept around and gripped at Aether's neck as you finally pressed your lips fully onto his. No brushing. No teasing. Right to the point.

Your kisses were certainly a lot more passionate than Aether was used to. It was almost as if you had lost yourself in some kind of trance. Your hands were holding him very tightly, your lips pressed firmly against his. Your lips were very soft and your breath was sweet; a hint of whisky combining with the scent of toothpaste.

The ghoul was surprised at the way that you took the initiative, but you could almost see a glint in his eyes as he kissed you back.

While moaning, you nibbled hungrily on his lips as your kisses quickly morphed into something more hungry… more passionate. Tongues dancing together, you slowly began to climb into Aether's lap, pushing him deeper into the couch. Your breath was coming out in ragged, lustful gasps as you would occasionally abandon the Ghoul's lips for a breath of air. That was rare though. Aether's lips were like the fountain of youth that you had been searching for your entire life. You didn't want to leave it ever again.

"You taste so good," you groaned while sucking on his bottom lip; a mischievous look in your eyes.

Your kisses were certainly making Aether feel things that he had never felt before in his entire life. Never mind the fact that all of this was coming from you—little, shy (Y/N). To see you taking such a brazen initiative was exciting.

As you abandoned his lips again for a breath of air, he chuckled softly, "I love how hungry you are for me right now."

Before you could speak again, Aether grabbed a fistful of your hair.

Before you could speak again, Aether grabbed a fistful of your hair.

Your eyes snapped shut as a small moan left your lips. A chuckle left his lips as Aether pulled roughly on my hair, eating up your reaction. You could see that the beer was making the usually docile and harmless Ghoul turn into something more. The lust in his eyes was unreal, and it excited you more than you ever knew you were capable of.

"A-Aeth!" you groaned, using the nickname you had given him when the two of us originally met all that time ago.

The Ghoul pulled your hair slightly, angling it to the side so your neck would cock with it. His swollen lips (swollen, from how aggressively you were making out with him only moments ago) immediately began to attack your sensitive flesh, leaving little purple and blue bruises on your pale skin.

Aether's eyes were now completely closed as his mouth worked its way up your neck, forcing the sweetest noises to leave your lips. He wanted to mark you. He wanted you to be his and only his. No one should be allowed the joy of having access to your soft, delicate skin.

"That's a good girl," Aether breathed out softly, moving one of his hands to massage your chest. He squeezed softly at your breasts, causing a breath to hitch in your throat. "You love when I mark your flesh, am I right?"

You leaned back, your eyes rolling into the back of your head while adjusting the weight on the rhythm guitarist's lap.

"Y-Yes. I want all the others to know I belong to you," you whispered, your words slightly slurring together thanks to your drunken state, as well as the lust that was pooling in your abdomen, "I l-love when you mark me!"

As he slowly continued caressing your chest, he leaned forward and moved his mouth back to your neck.

"I'm glad you want to belong to me," he murmured, "Now… show me how much you love me."

Your stomach clenched in excitement.

You knew exactly what Aether wanted.

He wanted your mouth.

You slowly kissed his lips one more time; savouring his taste. Then, you slipped off of his lap and got onto your knees on the floor; staring up at the Ghoul in desire. You rested your face on his thigh while squeezing it softly with your hand, "Tell me what you want, then."

Aether had a smug look on his face now. He sat there comfortably, leaning back on the couch, not expecting you to fall to your knees and do as he asked. It was such a sharp contrast from the timid, shy girl you were at first. Now, he could really tell that his words had had an effect on your behaviour. You were certainly behaving as someone completely different right now.

He smirked down at you, his voice laced with excitement, as he responded, "I want to be worshipped."

You purred and allowed your hands to drift upwards towards his belt, "Oh, I can worship you, that's for sure."

You quickly unclasped his belt and unzipped his pants. You could immediately see his white boxers which were holding your prize. You carefully pawed at them to lightly tease the Ghoul, earning a few grunts from his lips. You could already see the blood beginning to pool in his cock, which was only separated from you by that thin fabric.

Aether let out a sharp gasp suddenly as your cold hand dove into his boxers; grasping his cock lightly. As soon as you did, he could feel a rush of heat pool through his body. Your touch was making him feel very hot and tingly. Every inch of his body was pulsing with excitement from your touch.

He let out another soft moan as he watched you completely pull his boxers away, forcing them down to his knees. “You're definitely making me feel like a God right now…"

You giggled innocently while batting your eyelashes up at him as you got a good look at what he was concealing. Your mouth watered slightly; your eyes never leaving his dick.

"I'll worship you more than I worship Lucifer himself, my sweet Aether," you whispered while placing your hands delicately upon his thighs, "I don't care what punishments await me for saying that. You are all I live for, and all I die for."

Aether felt his breath grow hot and heavy.

You leaned on him while carefully grasping his dick in your palm; teasingly stroking it. Your vision was hazy and dark, yet even though you were as drunk as physically possible right now, you knew you wanted this. Aether wanted it too. This was written in the stars. The two of you were handpicked by Lucifer to be a part of the Emeritus ministry, and you were handpicked to be life partners. This was all beyond your understanding, and neither of you were against this.

Aether's eyes were clouded with unbridled lust as he watched you begin to pleasure him,

"Open up, sweetheart," he purred while stroking the side of your face with gentle fingers, "I want to see what else your mouth can do besides sing pretty notes."

Like the obedient Ghoul you were, you complied without hesitation. You firmly grasped Aether's shaft, and slowly licked up the length; from his balls to his tip.

Aether closed his eyes at the sensation, his entire being humming with arousal. He let out a soft moan, his fingers twitching slightly.

Your tongue then began to swirl around Aether’s sensitive flesh, “Mmm,” you mumbled while puckering your lips and lightly peppering kisses across the head of his dick; sucking lightly, “You look like you’re enjoying this.”

Aether shivered at the light suction combined with your tongue swirling around his cock; the shaft beginning to twitch impatiently. He gasped, unable to speak, his hips beginning to move involuntarily.

“Yeah... I am."

As his hips began to move, you knew that you had Aether wrapped around your finger. The Ghoul was so sensative to touch right now, thanks to the alcohol that the two of you had drank, and your lips felt like the most enticing experience in the world. So, you kept going.

You giggled lightly, finally taking Aether completely into your mouth; the tip grazing across your uvula. You gagged slightly, but didn’t let up.

You secretly hoped that Aether wouldn’t face fuck you right now with all the whiskey slushing around in your stomach… it would be a huge turn off to puke all over his dick.

Aether's eyes rolled back in his head as he moaned loudly. He couldn't believe how good this felt. His hands tangled into your hair, holding you close while his hips bucked against the other Ghoul's face.

You sputtered and placed your hands on Aether’s thighs, coming up for a breath. As you gasped for air, a stream of drool trickled down your lips, causing his dick to twitch at the mere sight of you.

“Fuckkkk, you’re so hot,” Aether groaned, his eyes lighting up as he watched you drool, “The way you take my dick is divine.”

A blush flushed over your cheeks at Aether’s words. Some pre-cum was beginning to bead at the tip of the quintessential Ghoul’s tip, and without hesitation, you lightly licked the surface; collecting the salty liquid on your tongue.

A groan left Aether’s mouth at the sight.

“I love making you feel good,” you whispered while taking him back in your mouth again; sloppily bobbing your head up and down on his length.

Aether cried out in pleasure, his back arching as you fully took him into your mouth. His fingers intertwined with your hair, tugging lightly to assist in deepening his thrusts.

"Fuck, sweetheart," he growled while letting out a low groan, "You feel so good wrapped around my cock... oh, fuck!"

It pleased you greatly... those little noises leaving your lover's mouth due to how good you were making him feel. This is all you've wanted for the past year of knowing the rhythm guitarist. You'd wanted to make him feel good, and hear these little words of encouragement flow from his lips. You were in heaven right now.

"Good boy," you whispered while gasping for air; saliva and pre-cum mix beginning to dribble down your swollen lips, "I love when you moan for me. Do I make you feel good?"

Another groan left Aether's lips at your dirty words; his cock twitching irritably, "You do… You make me feel so good, sweetheart. No mouth can compare to yours."

That was true. You were good with your mouth, sure, but there were also other factors that made this feel good for the Ghoul. The bond you two shared.

This wasn't just some drunken one-night stand. This was the combination of two twin flames… two soul mates. This was fate being decided, and that made everything you did feel so much better than even Aether was anticipating.

You lightly kissed the tip of Aether's cock before dipping your head back onto it.

You moaned reflexively on his length, the vibrations causing immense pleasure to assault the older Ghoul's cock. Aether cried out once more, his hips jerking forward as he felt your throat tighten around him.

You could tell the quintessential Ghoul was beginning to get close. The way Aether was beginning to thrust his dick into your throat, as if he was getting ready to hit his peak was a telltale sign.

You continued to sloppily pleasure your friend's cock, certain to help Aether reach his orgasm. Your mouth watered in anticipation as you felt Aether's fingers tangle through your hair.

"F-Fuck, (Y/N)!" the Ghoul wheezed, his whole body growing stiff and rigid as he came. You reflexively gagged around the length getting shoved down your throat, as well as the steaming-hot liquid rushing towards your gut.

Aether slumped backwards on the couch, his chest aggressively rising and falling as your mouth slowly slipped from his dick.

You coughed lightly, some of Aether's cum streaming from your lips and onto the carpet below.

You fell from your knees and onto your ass, wiping the cum from your face with the back of your wrist; the cloudy liquid sticking to your flesh.

"You're not tired yet, right?" you asked, your voice hoarse from the intense blowjob that you had just given Aether.

Aether chuckled, his eyes soft as he stared down at you. He ran a hand through your hair and stroked your cheek with his thumb, "If you're still okay with continuing, then I am, sweetheart."

A groan left your throat, which sounded slightly like a purr, "Yeah, I want to keep going."

That was all Aether needed to hear. He shakily got to his feet and picked you up carefully from underneath your arms, hoisting you onto the couch.

Aether softly cupped your cheek with his hand, slowly capturing your lips in his. He could taste himself on your lips which had his dick springing back to life once again. He pushed you lightly against the back of the couch and began to feverishly remove your shirt. His arousal was peaking again, which made you grow increasingly excited.

You allowed the Ghoul to remove your shirt, exposing your cute, black bra. Aether was practically drooling at the sight of your supple, pale flesh.

Aether effortlessly unclasped your bra; his lips never leaving yours. You shivered slightly, your top half now fully exposed to the Ghoul, as well as to the chilling temperature of the room. Goosebumps appeared on your flesh, causing a low chuckle to leave Aether's throat.

"Goddamn, you're absolutely gorgeous," he whispered while carefully squeezing your breast into the palm of his hand, "I... am obsessed with you."

A blush ferociously flooded your cheeks, a moan threatening to leave your lips as Aether kneaded into your breasts lovingly, "You're just drunk. That's the alcohol talking," you murmured, grabbing the shaft of his cock with your hand, pumping it slowly.

A small groan left Aether's lips as you began to pump him, his left hand trailing down to begin unzipping your pants, "Trust me, this isn't the alcohol talking, honey. I have been obsessed with you, your personality... everything, ever since I met you. If this is the alcohol, then I'm chronically drunk."

You couldn't stop the small smirk from taking over your lips. You pushed your lips to his one more time, inhaling his scent as he pushed your pants and underwear off your legs, "You should go to alcohol's anonymous."

Aether rolled his eyes in amusement, twisting your nipple roughly in between his thumb and forefinger, eliciting a little gasp of pleasure from your lips, "Shush. Not funny."

"It's a little funny," you argued while leaning back on the couch, your legs opening for the Ghoul.

Your mind was still foggy from pleasure as the Ghoul positioned himself in between your legs. You gasped, Aether's middle finger slowly stroking up your wet folds; your body shuddering from the sudden pleasure.

"You like that?" he murmured lowly while slowly stretching your leaking hole with two of his digits, moans spilling from your lips, "Does that feel good?"

"Y-Yes," you moaned slightly as Aether began to stroke your clit with his thumb. Slow and antagonizing movements... waves of pleasure.

Aether continued this teasing for a little bit longer, absolutely eating up the little noises coming from your lips. His fingers were almost pruned by the time he was rubbing his tip against your clenching hole.

"Tell me what you want me to do," he whispered while teasingly pushing the tip of his dick into your cunt, "What do you want me to do to you?"

You were suddenly bashful; your cheeks flushed with emotions. Swallowing a mouthful of saliva, you nodded up at him; locking eyes with him, "I... want you to fuck me, Aeth."

There was a hint of an impatient tone in your voice. It made sense though with all of Aether's teasing, and for how long the two of you have had all this built-up tension. The two of you have wanted this for a very long time.

Without hesitation, Aether leaned forward, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. You shook with anticipation as he lined his cock up with your hole before slowly pushing inside.

You hissed in mild discomfort from the stretch. Although you were plenty aroused and stretched due to Aether's fingering, it still wasn't painless.

Aether hesitated after sensing discomfort from you, "You okay?" he whispered, holding back the urge to buck his hips forward.

"Y-Yeah, I'm fine," you whispered while carefully grappling at the couch below, trying to hold on and ground yourself, "You can move. I'm fine."

Aether hesitated a moment more, but then slowly began to thrust in and out. Very slowly.

It was probably a good thing that the Ghoul had waited and moved like he did. Although you were confident you were okay, he made 100% sure that was true, and it was worth it.

Little moans began to escape your lips as the quintessential Ghoul began to pick up speed. He moaned, leaning into your chest as he moved in and out of your tight heat, his eyes slammed shut in pleasure.

"(Y/N)! F-Fuck! You feel so good!" Aether growled animalistically while abruptly pulling out and slamming back in, groaning into your ear.

You screamed in pleasure as Aether began to slam into your pussy; the pleasure was unlike anything you had ever experienced before. Your sharp claws scratched and tore at Aether's back as he had his way with your cunt.

"A-Aeth! Faster! Harder!" you begged, drool dribbling down your lips from the sheer pleasure that your precious friend was giving to you, "I need you, n-now! Oh, fuck!"

As you begged Aether to ravage you, his movements began to speed up. Hips slapping against hips, he positioned his arm underneath your leg and propped it up on his shoulder, giving him more range to fuck you senseless.

"You like that, huh?" Aether asked breathlessly as he watched himself disappear in your heat, his heart hammering in his chest, "You like how I feel inside of you?"

Your fangs dug into his shoulder; his flesh absorbing the lewd sounds reverberating from your throat as he cut through me like a hot butter to a knife.

It sounded like you screamed 'yes' to the quintessential Ghoul's question, but he wasn't for sure.

A sudden scream erupted from your throat as Aether's dick slammed into your G-spot; the friction causing him to shudder from pleasure, "Oh, Lucifer!" he wheezed, digging his own fangs into your shoulder as he continued to pile drive your cunt.

"Fuck! Holy shit!" you howled into Aether's ear; your knees growing weak from the pleasure. It was a good thing you were lying on the couch, otherwise, you may have fallen from how weak your knees were at this point.

If it was even possible, Aether's thrusts began to grow wilder and wilder as more screams and moans left your mouth. Your pussy was making a wet, squelching sound, which proved to Aether that you weren't faking it.

Your moans were sharp and high-pitched; your toes curled as wave after wave of pleasure began to cause your abdomen to heat up. The sensation was almost too much for you to bear.

"A-Aeth, I think... I'm gonna cum!" you wheezed breathlessly, tears streaming from your eyes from the pleasure.

Aether shuddered as your walls began to clench around his cock, threatening to milk him dry. He was determined to take you over the edge, "T-Take my cum! Take it all!"

Without hesitation, he pushed all the way to the hilt. Your head rolled backwards, a string of incoherent words streaming from your lips as you felt Aether's cum coat your pussy. You came at the same time, a fiery pleasure coating your abdomen as you squeezed the cum from Aether's length.

"Fuck! FUCK!" you howled, latching onto Aether's shoulder with your fangs once more.

The two of you laid like that for a little while, just trying to catch your breath as you both came down from the pleasure high. You could taste blood. Looking down, you realized you had penetrated Aether's skin with your fangs drawing blood.

"Oh, shit. Are you okay?" you whispered while grabbing your discarded shirt; dabbing the blood away with the material, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to hurt you."

His lips met yours, a small chuckle leaving his lips, "Honey, I don't care. I don't even feel it. You made me feel the best that I ever have before. You could hit me with a car and I wouldn't bat an eye."

You giggled at how silly Aether was; savouring your kiss for as long as you could before slowly pushing the rhythm guitarist's cock from your gaping hole, "You're so dramatic."

"Maybe it's the alcohol?" Aether joked while covering yours and his naked bodies with a large blanket.

"Shut up," you mumbled while snuggling into his side; embracing your sweet companion like your life depended on it, "It's definitely the alcohol..."

[bonny-kookoo]

bonnie~! (Or question for finish line mc) In a bunch of race car movies I’ve seen the drivers are ripped… so’s Jk buff too? Mc’s answer to the interviewers question made me cackle, so… what is mc’s reaction to maybe first time seeing him work out or just meeting buff Kook for the first time?

yeah JK is kinda beefy not gonna lie...

You remember the first time you noticed a change in Jungkook after he'd been 'discovered'- now put under a more demanding workout routine, an actual team now taking care of him to make sure he's in top-condition for training and every single race.

It was late summer. A simple barbecue, to celebrate one of the driving instructors' birthday- Jungkook already there with friends, since you had to work that day, only able to meet up later.

Maybe it was the hectic schedule he's had, the lack of sex you both had (and if you did have something slow and sloppy before going to sleep it would be in the dark), or maybe it just happened over night and you never knew- but when did he became so.. big?

"I uh- brought beer?" You announce yourself as Jungkook turns around from where he stands near the barbecue grill, nothing covering his upper body but a white sleeveless top, a bit of sweat in the back making the fabric slightly darker. He's always wearing that chain around his neck with the promise ring you both exchanged when you first started dating- Jungkook still a little shy, nerdy, glasses on his nose and voice a bit quiet.

You barely recognize that Jungkook from back then now.

"There's my baby." He beams at you happily, hugging you before he takes the plastic bag and carton of beer from you. "You could've texted me to help you carry everything." He says, helping you set everything down on a camping table close by.

You're familiar with this dirt-road by now. It's a little like a second home, that dusty racetrack he basically spends almost every weekend at.

"I brought you something for the mosquitos later?" You say, and he nods.

"Ah, look at him- he's got a keeper!" His instructor laughs, greeting you. "You make sure he keeps that head on his shoulders, eh?" He says, and you grin, nodding.

That old man is proud. Of course he is- he's pretty much adopted Jungkook as somewhat of his grandson by now.

A little on the side now, me runs his fingers over your bare arms, before he moves them to sit around his neck. "When did you become so.. beefy?" You ask him, eyes squinted in suspicion as he laughs.

"I think it's the new workout." He shrugs. "Is it too much?" He worries, but you shake your head.

"Honestly? Makes me wanna ride your thighs again. Feels like I don't know your body at all anymore." You simply say without shame. "Also makes me feel all fuzzy in my heart- so have such a strong, pretty boyfriend- like a knight in shining armor!" You sing-song, and he laughs, head tilted back for a second.

"I'll even carry you around like the princess you are." He purrs down at you, pecking your lips.

Twice, because once is never enough.

"...pretty sure you could just fuck me while holding me too, no?" You whisper up at him, and he bites his lip, playing with his lip ring.

"Guess we'll have to find out?" He responds, and you giggle.

"But right now I'm hungry, so too bad, beefy-boy!" You laugh, hitting his chest before you run towards the barbecue again to grab a beer for yourself.

Leaving Jungkook a little frustrated between his legs-

but he'll get his revenge.

[mydisenchantedeulogy]

Lost in Paradise || Buddha

A/n: this is my first time writing for this character, so I hope he's not too OOC. I started watching ROR when the first season came out, so of course I was going to watch the second season. Then Buddha came on screen and immediately I was hooked. So, this OS is the product of that.

On another note, while I was writing this a story idea came to mind. I sort of want to toy more with the red cord aspect and have the reader come to the realm of the Gods and live with their significant other. It's a basic idea, but I like it.

Please pay attention to the warning tags and please enjoy it.

Warning(s): red cord/soulmate (via Yue-Lao), mentions/implications of death, fear of the unknown, make-outs, intense sex, fainting (via overstimulation), oral (m), female reader, 4,444 words.

No Minors Allowed!!

How did it come to this? Mankind's last stand against the Gods. The moment you heard about Ragnarok, a tournament pitting the Humans against the Gods, you knew mankind didn't stand a chance. For a soul, this also meant that you too would perish; it honestly is a shame.

Sitting in the stands in the area, you stare in dismay at a large screen that displays the matches. So far, no human can best the Gods. Two rounds in, things are looking grim for mankind. Things could honestly not get any worse in your opinion.

"Oh wow! You have a soulmate cord!" A voice beside you exclaims.

You raise a curious brow.

"Pardon me?"

What does he mean by cord? The man points down and upon looking, you notice a silken cord around your finger. When did this get there? Following it with your eyes, you see that it fades in and out through the crowd, heading up to the terrace at the top of the stadium.

"This is the first time I've ever seen it," you mention in confusion.

The man beside you hums.

"How strange. You aren't meant to see the cord. I was a scholar in my former life and I have to wonder if Yue-Lao put this on you."

Yue-Lao? Is this the name of a God?

"Who is Yue-Lao?" You ask.

"He's a God of marriage and love in Chinese mythology. He often appears as an old man under the moon and unites with a silken cord all predestined couples, after which nothing can prevent their union," the scholar answers.

There's no way.

"I don't understand. I never saw this until today and when my soul came here, I'm sure I didn't have it," you mention.

"Could it be that you are destined to be with a God," the man utters, almost as though he's speaking more to himself.

What sense did this make?

"The Gods want to end humanity. Why would I be a match for a God?" You ask.

The man beside you hums.

"It's probable but I have no idea why. Have you heard the story of Eros and Psyche?"

You have. But this is a different story. Something is strange about it. You shouldn't be able to see the cord. Perhaps it is a God you are tethered to. But now isn't the time to care.

There is no way you can focus on the round, however. Curiosity is eating you alive. You take a deep breath and stand, walking toward the stairs. It's a terrible idea but you want to know who you are connected to and why. You pass humans and gods alike on your way down the terrace. The cord leads you to a gorgeous garden room with glass panels; one with an enormous fountain. You stare at it in awe for a moment until the cord tightens with a snap. A moment later the soft sound of footsteps echoes around the room.

Unsure of what to do, you dart behind a marble column as the footsteps grow louder, soon coming to a stop. Your heart pounds in your chest as an air of nervousness surrounds you. Slowly you peek around the marble column and see a muscular man standing near the fountain. His back is to you but you can see that he is wearing a tank top with robes tied around his waist, wrapping back to his hands. Who is this man? The cord seems to connect to him as it does you, so you know he is bonded to you, but he doesn't look familiar at all. The clothes he is wearing are akin to the ones seen in South Asia, but that is all you can tell.

For a moment you stare at him, until to your horror, he peeks over his shoulder in your direction. You dart behind the column and stand there, hoping that he didn't see you. Once a minute passes, you peek back around to see that he is gone. A sigh of relief pours from your mouth, but strangely the cord is still tight; it seems to wrap around the column to the other side. You raise a curious brow, turning to notice that the god in question is leaning his arm against the column staring at you with curious blue eyes hidden behind rectangle-shaped glasses. His hair, which you had thought before was blond is light green; the sides are black.

"Hmm. I thought someone was staring at me," he utters as he removes a light blue lollipop from his mouth.

Your face heats up in embarrassment and you avert your eyes to the cute bunny with the eyepatch printed on his tank top.

"I'm sorry. I just... was looking for someone."

To emphasize your point, not sure what sort of god he is, you raise your hand showing him the red cord. It takes him a moment to understand but once he does he snorts and raises his hand.

"Look at that." He pauses to toy with the cord. "The old man has a sense of humor."

Who is he referring to? Yue-Lao? You've never met the Chinese Love God; you have no idea what he's like or why he'd tether you to someone let alone another God.

If this was his idea of a joke, it wasn't funny.

"Do you know how to remove these? Or where Yue-Lao is? Perhaps he can remove them."

"You want to have them removed?" The God asks.

You narrow your eyes suspiciously and nod in agreement to his question.

"Do you not?"

"Hmm. I mean... We don't know one another. And unless the old man did this as a joke, we're tethered for a reason," he replies.

He wants to know you. Is he serious?

"I'm a human," you state in an obvious tone.

"I hadn't noticed," the god retorts with a grin.

He has a sense of humor. At least he isn't like some gods you have read about. You hum in thought, staring at the cord.

"I reckon we should find Yue-Lao and see about these before Ragnarok is over."

The God tossed up his hands in defense.

"Yes, boss."

Fearing that you might have insulted him, you frown.

"I'm sorry. I just... Don't know what else to do. I never asked for your name and that's rude of me."

The man in question knits his brows.

"You don't know me? I'm Buddha."

Your eyes widen.

"T-there's no way."

"Pretty sure I am," Buddha utters with a hum.

You shake your head.

"That's not it."

This has to be a joke. You've always compared the gods to celebrities; there are A-listers and B-listers; the major gods and the minors.

"You're an A-lister," you utter.

Why are you tethered to an A-lister? Let alone a God. You're not even someone important. Or at least you don't feel like you are.

A hand on your shoulder brings you into reality, sending a pleasant warmth throughout your body. You've never felt such an intense sensation. Is it because of Buddha? Or the bond you have with me? Your tense shoulders relax and you turn your attention to him.

"You have a name, don't you?" The God asks.

You nod and utter it.

Buddha grins in response; his sharp canines make your heart thump faster for some reason.

"Now, while I agree we should look for the old man, the 3rd round of Ragnarok began a moment ago, so--" He pauses to slide his arm around your shoulders. "Why not take the time to get to know one another? I'll even share a lollipop with you."

"Um... Okay," you retort.

So long as this doesn't get awkward.

He leads you over to the fountain and motions for you to sit, resting on the basin beside you. For a moment neither of you speaks; you watch the silken cord around his finger bob as he messes with it. The brief touch he had allowed you lingers on your skin; you hate to admit it, but you miss it.

"Any idea how we came to be tethered, my Lord?" You ask.

Buddha snorts and then laughs.

"My Lord?"

"How should I address you then?" You ask, narrowing your eyes in annoyance. It's not like you've ever spoken to a God; you don't know how to address one. "Because honestly, calling you Buddha is a bit uncomfortable."

The said man raises a brow.

"Is it? I suppose for a human it might be. Hmm. I've been known for a lot of things. Gautama, Gotama, Buddha Shakyamuni. You can call me whatever you like."

Does he honestly not mind?

"Is Shaka OK?" You ask.

He glances at you and grins.

"So, you do know me."

"A little here and there," you admit. "Your name is widely known throughout mankind. But to be honest, you aren't what I expected."

As soon as this leaves your lips, you immediately regret it.

"I'm sorry. I­­––"

"What were you expecting?" Buddha asks. He doesn't seem annoyed or angry, just curious.

Your face heats up in embarrassment. There's no point in lying to him, you reckon.

"I've always heard that the Buddha looked like a typical shaved man and in your old age, you are described as having a stooped body."

"Are you upset?"

You shake your head no and avert your eyes.

"I think you're extremely handsome, hot even."

It's silent for a moment, then the lollipop he had been sucking on appears in your line of sight. You widen your eyes in shock, peering over at the blue-eyed god.

"Want a lick?"

Your face heats up.

"You... had that in your mouth."

Buddha grunts.

"I don't have anything, and besides... we're tethered, remember?"

"No offense, but that doesn't mean I want to swap spit with you. It was a generous offer though," you state.

He hums and slides the lollipop back into his mouth; the sound of it clicking against his canines makes you snort. It almost seems like he's pouting for some reason.

"I'll try one you haven't licked on," you mention.

"No way. Not after you insulted me," Buddha states.

The grin on his face indicates that he's not serious however; you are relieved. For a God, he isn't bad. You are thankful that if it had to be a God, it is him.

An echo of cheers erupts from the stadium and you hear Heimdall announce the victor of the 3rd round. Is it over already? Your eyes widen in shock.

"He did it... He won."

Kojiro Sasaki beat a God. Perhaps there is some hope for humanity.

The loud crunch of a lollipop draws your attention to Buddha. He spits the stick onto the ground and stands having a serious look on his face. You frown. Is there something wrong? Perhaps it is because a God had died.

"Zeus isn't gonna take this lightly," he utters.

You imagine not. Poseidon is his brother. And now he is dead. It's a double whammy of a situation.

"Well... It's about time we got you back to the stadium." Buddha pauses to fake a yawn. "I'll search for Yue-Lao."

This is a shame; you want to know what reason he had to tether you to Buddha. You agree with a nod despite the frown on your face. A hand appears in your line of sight and you raise a brow, turning your eyes to Buddha; an easy-going grin appears on his face.

"I'll walk you back."

"I appreciate it," you mention with a smile, taking his hand.

For some reason, this feels right.

You hardly know what to think about the 4th match or who to root for. The representative for the Humans is a well-known murderer, Jack the Ripper, whilst the Gods have Hercules on their side. It strikes you as odd that a man known for killing humans is representing them, but if his win gives the Humans a chance then there isn't much you can argue about.

It's a strange match is all.

Feeling the cord around your finger jerk, you glance down at it, curious as to what Buddha is doing. Perhaps he's looking for Yue-Lao himself. He had parted ways with you at the top of the stadium, haven took you to your section unbeknownst to the Humans around you.

The 4th match started soon after.

You sigh and lean back in your chair, watching the screen in front of you. So much is happening at once but your thoughts are on the attractive God that you are tethered to. You never got to ask him what he plans to do with you should Yue-Lao choose to leave the silken cord around your finger. It's a lot to consider, honestly; a lot you're not sure you are ready for.

A motion from the corner of your eye draws your attention to the scholar beside you, his name you are still unsure of. He looks shocked almost, pointing his finger toward something or someone past you. Raising a brow, you peek over your shoulder and notice a familiar God standing at the end of the aisle watching the screen.

You stand and quickly saunter over to him.

"Shaka?" His eyes turn to you as you call his name. "What are you doing here?"

Buddha grins.

"I came to get you. Are you ready?"

Did he find Yue-Lao?

"Of course."

Leading you away from the stadium, you silently walk beside him to a nearby hill outside the arena. The scenery is stunning, the most captivating thing you have ever seen. But where is Yue-Lao?

"Are we meeting him here?" You ask in confusion.

Buddha sits at the base of a large Bodhi tree and hums.

"Meeting who?"

Did he already forget?

"Yue-Lao," you answer with a sigh.

"I haven't looked for him," Buddha mentions with a yawn.

Is he serious? Your jaw tightens.

"Are you not even a little curious?"

"Hmm. No. Even as a joke we're bound for a reason. Besides... I'm not bothered by it," Buddha answers.

Your eyes widen in shock. How can he not be bothered? You are a human. He may have been at one time too, but the era of mankind is at an end. With an uneasy sigh, you sit beside him, looking out at the arena in the distance. The warm gentle breeze sways your hair and little by little you relax.

"I'm sorry about Poseidon. Hearing that a God was struck down by a human can't be easy," you utter.

Or lifting for that matter. It must have struck--

A boisterous laugh rings out from the God beside you as he tosses his head back.

"You're hilarious."

"I was being sincere," you argue.

Buddha hums and tilts his head toward you.

"There's no reason to apologize. He knew what he was signing up for... And honestly, he underestimated the Humans."

Reaching between the robes tied at his waist, he pulled out a lollipop.

"The same may happen to me when it's my turn," he continues, popping the sweet candy in his mouth. "Though I doubt it."

He's battling in the tournament too? Your jaw tightens in uncertainty. This isn't a good sign for the humans or you for that matter. Why is he telling you this? You narrow your eyes.

"If we lose... What do you plan to do with me?"

Buddha snorts and presses the lollipop between his cheek and teeth.

"You can come back to Nirvana with me if you chose to."

Your face heats up. Perhaps it's the cord, but his proposal sounds lovely. Forever with an easygoing and attractive God like him is tempting.

"May I have my lollipop now?"

With a grin, Buddha takes the one from his mouth and offers it to you. Maybe he didn't expect you to take it, because the moment you do, sliding the treat into your mouth, his blue eyes widen. The taste of blue raspberry coats your tongue as you eagerly lick it, feeling the small indentations from his canines.

"I thought you didn't want to swap spit with me," he reminds you.

"We're tethered, remember." You retort.

Shifting the lollipop between your teeth, you press down until the shell cracks. The wide-eyed expression on the God beside you makes you snort."

"Hold on! That's the last one," Buddha mentions with a whine, reaching for the stick.

You lean back out of his reach.

"You said you'd give me one."

"I said we'd share," he clarifies.

Perhaps he did, however, he ate the last one without sharing. You grin teasingly at him.

"I'll take my share then.

As your teeth crunch down on the candy, the God lunges at you, knocking you onto your back; you don't mean to, but the sudden movement causes your mouth to snap closed, crushing the lollipop to pieces. Buddha stares down at you, mouth slightly agape as he removes the barren stick from your lips. Oops. He shouldn't have lunged at you. The fact he is nestled between your thighs forces an embarrassed heat to your face. It also doesn't help that he looks stunning in this position; with wisps of light green hair dangling around his face.

You reach up and curl a lock around your finger, admiring the way it springs back into place.

"I'm sorry about––"

Pressure on your thighs makes you shiver as the God leans down, capturing your lips in a soft kiss. For a moment, your head begins to spin; a pleasant warmth erupts in your stomach and your eyes tear up. Is this a product of the tether? A simple kiss shouldn't be this intense. It's too tempting not to want more. You return the kiss, groaning softly as Buddha adds more pressure. Why is he kissing you? It's not like you are arguing, but there has to be a reason.

No way! Is he wanting the candy? You part from him, ignoring the light tug of your bottom lip between his, and narrow your eyes.

"That's a mean trick."

"I'm just taking my share," Buddha utters. A grin spreads across his face. "Or maybe I just want an excuse to taste you."

Goosebumps rise across your skin in response.

"It's unfair how insanely attractive you are," you mention. Sliding your legs around his waist, you shoot him a glare. "Take your share if you want it."

Pressing his thumb against your bottom lip as he leans down, Buddha gently ushers you to slightly open your mouth, giving you a brief kiss before his tongue meets yours. A low moan tickles your throat, relishing in the sensation of the God intimately sucking on your tongue. The sweet and fruity taste of blue raspberry nearly drives you mad; the aroma is everywhere.

Parting from you, a thin lead of blue-tented saliva connects his tongue to yours until he breaks it, chewing on the candy he swiped from your mouth. Honestly, you feel like a complete mess. You are aware that your face is heated, and that your pussy is humming in arousal. Staring pleadingly into your eyes, you notice the unusual lily pattern in his own. Were those always there?

"Your eyes are gorgeous."

With a grin, Buddha lifts you from the ground and into his lap; your legs remain securely around his waist. He quickly turns his attention to your ear, running his warm tongue along the shell before he drops to your neck, tasting your skin. This is unreal; the sensation is almost too much to bear. He's slowly driving you mad with want.

Guiding his hand down, you grin as Buddha catches on, sinking his fingers into the waistband of your pants, yanking them down a bit. You sit up on your knees to help him remove them. With them gone, he slides his hand between your thighs and sinks a finger into your warm pussy. As he spreads your walls, preparing you for what is to come, you lean in and kiss his candy-coated lips. It takes everything you can not to break the kiss and moan; another finger slides in, pumping into you. For someone rumored to be so peaceful, he is brutal on your pussy. But what will his cock feel like inside you?

Sucking on his tongue, you yank on his robes urging him to remove them or pull them up; the latter he soon does, pulling them over his knees. It doesn't surprise you to feel that he isn't wearing anything beneath them; his hard cock rests against your thigh. You groan as his fingers retreat, leaving you feeling empty. And no sooner a tight pressure feels you as he eases you down onto him to the base. You break the kiss with a sigh; you've honestly never felt so full in your life.

"Shaka," you utter almost anxiously.

Buddha grins and buries his short nails into your hips.

"Hold on to me."

You do as told, not able to contain the gleeful smile on your face as the God begins to rock you on his cock. It hurts a bit, but honestly, you don't care; the pain combined feels divine with the pleasure Buddha is giving you. A soft moan escapes his mouth, sending warm breath against your neck; it's the hottest thing you have ever heard. Your walls tighten in response.

There isn't much you can do but try to match his quick and rough pace, arching your back. You honestly feel like you are just along for the ride at this point. It feels so damn good. There's no way you can last like this; your entire body is already tensing up. It doesn't help that the God wrecking you is giving you the most sinful and possessive look; lily patterns decorate his gorgeous blue eyes.

A warm pressure in your stomach quickly consumes you, pushing you over the edge and into an intense orgasm. It's too much; you've never felt this satisfied before almost like you can't breathe. For a minute you forget to, clutching onto the God as you ride out your high. A cold sweat washes over you and strangely a low static-like noise permeates your ears. What is this? The world around you suddenly goes dark.

A moment later, you snap to, leaning up. The God beneath you is still but remains inside you.

"Welcome back. Are you OK?" Buddha asks.

"I... What just happened?"

Your head is light and your body feels completely worn out.

"You fainted, he answers.

What? There's no way. Your face heats up in embarrassment as you avert your attention from him. Is this even possible? Did your orgasm make you faint? You've never fainted from overstimulation before, but you've also never fucked a God before either.

"I'm sorry I––"

Buddha snorts, interrupting you.

"You fainted because you stopped breathing... though I'm flattered you thought it was because of me."

Is this what caused it? You are unsure of whether you should feel relieved or not. Regardless, it's a bit embarrassing. The feeling of his cock stretching your walls reminds you that he didn't finish. You'd feel terrible if you left him like this.

"Let me take care of you."

Buddha raises a brow.

You ease off him, humming as this action leaves your walls empty and sore. Resting your knees on the ground, you reach down, wrapping your hand around him. His shaft is slick with your arousal so at least you won't have a hard time going down on him. Licking your eager lips, you lean down and press a kiss against him. This almost feels wrong, sucking off a God, but at the moment, you don't care. Sliding open your mouth, you sink onto him, taking as much in as you can; oddly enough, you don't taste half bad.

Slowly at first, you bob your head. Your tongue presses tight against the underside of his shaft, not able to move much due to limited space, but you do your best to make this good for him. It's a shame you can't see his expression; a soft grunt is the only indication you have to go on. The idea that you can make a God come surrounds you with pride and you tilt your head a bit, taking him from another angle.

A hand in your hair urges you to take a quick look at Buddha. He is staring in the distance, mouth slightly open. As expected of a God, he's gorgeous like this. You hum, bobbing your head a bit fast; the grip on your hair tightens in response. At this pace, it isn't long before you hear him groan softly. His cock twitches as warm ropes of cum coats your tongue. You continue to slowly bob your head until he is done, then you lean up, resting on your legs with a pleased yet worn-out expression on your heated face.

Swallowing the mess in your mouth, you hum.

"Even as a soul, I feel exhausted."

Buddha grins.

"We'll rest after we find Yue-Lao." He pauses to raise his finger; the one with the cord attached to it. "You wanted to ask how to remove this, didn't you?"

You do. But maybe this arrangement isn't so bad. Buddha straightens himself out and makes a move to stand, but you quickly stop him, gripping his robes.

"Can we maybe wait? I just... want to see how this pans out."

"Having second thoughts?" Buddha asks.

Is it that obvious? You nod to clarify.

"You're not that bad, I suppose, for a God."

Buddha laughs and sits back down, leaning onto his side with his hand propping him up; the other pats the ground beside him. You accept his offer, laying on your side facing him; you honestly don't care that you're bare from the waist down. The light breeze and warm sun dancing across your skin are delightful.

"Shaka," you call, resting your eyes. "If the Humans win, may I still go with you to Nirvana?"

"It's your decision... with me changing sides, the chance of the Humans losing is slim," Buddha answers.

Is he serious? You open your eyes briefly to glance at him. He's not doing this for you, is he?

"Are you––"

Interrupting you with a yawn, he shuts his eyes.

"Rest. It won't be long before I go on."

There isn't a way to convince him otherwise once his mind is made up, it seems. No matter. A God on the side of the Humans is a big leap. Either way, whichever wins, you can't wait to see what this soulmate business is all about.

[lightlycareless]

I saw your post about Naohime and Naobito! I completely fell in love with their little relationship and I was wondering what other things they get up to that stress out Naoya

Hello!!! afjajgkhag I'm so happy you like their relationship 🥺❤️❤️❤️!!!!! For Naobito to finally get along with Naoya's family, or part of, is... very satisfying 🥺 I'd like to think things work out in the end lol.

Now, onto your question...

warnings: naohime is your youngest daughter. naoya is a good dad. naobito gets along quite well with her granddaughter. implications of underage drinking BUT ITS MINISCULE AND INNOCENT I SWEAR.

Happy reading!!

Honestly, just about anything.

HOWEVER

The one thing Naoya hates the most about Naobito’s relationship is his apparent blindness to the danger he puts Naohime through?

Like, the old man will find it hilarious that Naohime is pestering other clan members, but to Naoya that just pure horror. He’s seen how resentful they can be, and the last thing he wants is his daughter being caught in the middle of it! More so if they have never been welcoming of most of his children (obviously they only care for the sons 🙄🙄). It’s honestly a ticking bomb when it comes to Naobito’s carelessness.

Yet, the #1 thing he would despise of Naobito is the one time he saw him giving Naohime a “sip” of sake, just for the laughs of it or something, but of course Naoya wasn’t going to wait around to find out!

“You really have no shame, do you, father?” Naoya seethes, swiftly taking the bottle from his hands and throwing it away onto the garden—the loud sound of the glass crashing against the floor makes Naohime flinch, tears soon begin to form at the unusual sight of his father’s rising anger. “What is wrong with you, giving alcohol to a child?!”

“Ahh, it was just a little bit! She wanted to see what it tasted like, so, I obliged.” Naobito excused himself, as he always did, much to Naoya’s frustration.

“Ah, I should’ve known! It’s so obvious, isn’t it?! Whatever Naohime wants, she gets, right? How careless could you be, father?” Naoya breathes. “No—don’t even answer that. I know how much; I’ve experienced first-hand, after all!”

“Cut me some slack—I’m no different from you when it comes to spoiling her.”

“Don’t ever you compare yourself to me.” Naoya threatens, and with no time to waste, he takes hold of Naohime’s arm and pulls her away from the irresponsible grandfather she had the misfortune of having.

He expected her to put up resistance, as she usually does whenever plucked from her dear grandpa’s company; but not this time, for it appeared she understood the gravity of the situation, or more like was frightened into doing so, never having seen her papa so angry before.

It soon became clear that this situation is one you’d have to mediate between the two, and not because you wanted Naobito to continue being part of Naohime’s life—if it were up to you, you’d keep them apart forever!

Rather, because the air had grown unbearable tense between Naoya and his father yet again, the estate began to be affected one way or the other.

Sure, they could never get along, it was like trying to mix water and oil, but at least they’d become amicable enough to not step on each other’s toes. Naoya was his successor, after all, they should be able to talk at least for the sake of the clan!

Well, all would eventually be solved when surprisingly Naobito was the one to close the gap between the two, offering his version of an apology for having been careless with Naohime and somewhat promising to do better…

Unfortunately, not enough for Naoya.

“And? That’s all? Do you think with that I’ll just forget what you did?” Naoya frowns, you press your lips together, seems this situation isn’t to die so easily.

“Naoya…” you murmur, gently squeezing his hand. His anger, no matter where directed, is one that always upsets you.

“No, Y/N. I’m not done yet. My father is never one to understand the consequences of his actions.”

“What do you want me to do, then? Leave the estate?!”

“That’d be a good way to start.” He smiles.

“How about I take on your responsibilities for a whole month so you can do whatever you want, hm? Is that good enough for you??”

“Barely!”

“Dear, please.” You quietly beg, wanting this situation to be over with. Considering Naobito, this was probably as best of a deal they’d be able to get out of him. And Naoya soon remembered that through the worried look on your face.

“Make it two months—and I’d also like you to keep away from my side of the estate.” Naoya eventually agrees. “I don’t want a single servant that isn’t part of my entourage near—and of course, I don’t want you close Naohime either, or any of my kids for that matter.”

“Fine, whatever makes you happy.”

Naoya’s eye twitches, Naobito really can’t accept defeat and move on, can he?

Thankfully, you’d be there to ease the situation before it got any worse, telling Naoya and Naobito that such solution would be enough to mend for his transgression before subsequently leaving the room; to ease an infuriated husband as well as tend to an upset daughter who has felt nothing but guilty for actions that were not of her responsibility.

“I’m sorry papa…” Naohime quietly murmurs upon seeing you and Naoya return, gently holding onto her father’s leg as tears began to slide down her cheeks. “Please don’t be angry at me!”

A plead that has all rage vanishing from Naoya’s mind, rushing to comfort her instead.

“It’s not your fault, peanut. He should’ve known better.” Naoya responds, wiping Naohime’s tears with his sleeve before carefully picking her up.

She then wraps her arms around his neck, resting her head against it and continuing to sob.

“I just wanted to try it! Grandpa said no at first because he said I wouldn’t like it and that I shouldn’t have it because I’m too young, but he always drinks it so I wanted to have it too!”

“He should’ve been more considerate of you, peanut, you are child after—wait, what?” Naoya blinks, quickly looking over to your direction as if to check if you’ve heard the same thing as him—you had.

“What do you mean he said no, sweetie?” You ask, believing up to that point that Naobito was the one instigating Naohime to take a sip of his drink… only to be proven otherwise.

And not only that, but to find out he actually set boundaries to her request?? Or at least tried… better than nothing…?

“He said it wasn’t good for me… and it wasn’t, it’s yucky!” Naohime scowls.

“Well, that… it is.” You sigh, patting her head as she snuggles closer to her papa.

“I’m sorry papa, mama… don’t be angry with me or grandpa!”

“That’s a bit too late for that.” Naoya whispers to you, you sigh.

“We’re not angry at you, sweetie. Just worried, as always for your well-being” You explain. “But just remember that if you’re ever curious about something come tell mama or papa and we’ll do our best to explain, ok? Sometimes grandpa does things that aren’t completely right, and might end up hurting you too—and we don’t want that, do we?”

Naohime shakes her head.

“I promise to behave, mama!”

“I know you will.” You smile.

“Now, don’t cry—pretty princesses don’t do that.” Naoya coos, cleaning the rest of her tears before kissing the top of her head. “Instead, they like to play with their siblings or help mama around the house.”

“How about play with mama and papa? Can we do that instead??” Naohime wonders.

“Well, I don’t have much to do anymore after that…” Naoya muses, you laugh.

“Then papa better hurry to hide if he doesn’t want us to find him…” you tease, with Naoya giving you a smirk before gently Naohime down and scurrying out the room, leaving behind a giggling daughter who couldn’t wait to start counting and begin searching for him—not that it would be possible for her, since Naoya was quite… sneaky when it came to it. There’s a reason why the rest of his kids had given up playing hide and seek with him.

However, Naoya wouldn’t be able to focus much on the game, for he’d still have to come to terms with the fact that Naobito indeed has a soft spot for Naohime, one much bigger than what you and Naoya anticipated, seemingly out of genuine affection and not because he wanted to get back at his son one way or the other.

…

…

…

He didn’t know what to do with this conclusion, yet a part of him couldn’t deny he felt elated to know that after all these years, his father finally found it in himself to be nice to someone—specifically, his daughter.

A notion that partially healed a wound he did not know he had, lifting some of the weight his unhappy past burdened him with…

And all thanks to the prospect of his children escaping the same fate.

I hope it wasn't too sad for your liking ahhaha :') It's just something that I wanted to explore, since you know, Naobito tends to be very fond of alcohol.

It was kind of expected that he'd give a sip to Naohime at one point; mainly because she's curious, but outside of that, I like to think that Naobito truly became protective of her and abuses the fact that he's like the leader to let her do whatever she wants lol.

Also... I'd like to think that as much as Naoya acts like he doesn't care, a part of him still wishes his father got along with his family, liked them and such, you know 🥹 the child inside him wants his approval, after all!! (I wonder what kind of relationship Tomoko would've had with her grandchildren 🥹 oh, she would've loved them all!!)

Anyways, I hope this was to your liking! Thank you so much for sending in this ask, I'm very happy Naohime's relationship with Naobito is enjoyed heheheheh I love it!!!

Take care, and hope to see you soon!!

[peach-teea]

ʀᴇQᴜᴇꜱᴛ: ᴄᴀɴ ʏᴏᴜ ᴍᴀᴋᴇ ᴏɴᴇ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ɢᴏ ᴛᴏ ᴀ ʙᴀʟʟ ᴀɴᴅ ᴛʜᴇ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ʙᴇɢɪɴꜱ ᴛᴏ ʟᴏᴏᴋɪɴɢ ꜰᴏʀ ꜱᴇᴀɴ ʙᴜᴛ ɢᴇᴛꜱ ꜱᴛᴏᴘ ꜰʀᴏᴍ ᴀ ᴅʀᴜɴᴋ ᴅᴜᴋᴇ ᴡʜᴏ ᴀꜱᴋɪɴɢ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ᴛᴏ ᴅᴀɴᴄᴇ ᴡɪᴛʜ ʜɪᴍ ᴀɴᴅ ᴛʜᴇ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ɪꜱ ɢᴇᴛᴛɪɴɢ ᴜɴᴄᴏᴍꜰᴏʀᴛᴀʙʟᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ᴛʀɪᴇꜱ ᴛᴏ ʟᴇᴀᴠᴇ ʙᴜᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ᴅᴜᴋᴇ ᴡᴏᴜʟᴅɴ'ᴛ ʟᴇᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ʟᴇᴀᴠᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ʜᴇ ʜᴀʀᴀꜱꜱɪɴɢ ᴛʜᴇᴍ ᴀɴᴅ ꜱᴇᴀɴ ꜱᴘᴏᴛꜱ ᴛʜᴇ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ʟᴏᴏᴋɪɴɢ ꜰᴏʀ ʜɪᴍ

i hope the story is to your liking! @adalia-world

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: ᴜꜱᴇ ᴏꜰ ʏ/ɴ?, ɴᴏᴛ ꜱᴜʀᴇ ᴏꜰ ᴀɴʏᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴇʟꜱᴇ!

The coming of age ball. Some girls were looking forward to it. Some were dreading it. Mostly because it was expected to find a husband. Which you weren't exactly... comfortable with. You felt happy the way you were. You don't need a man. You can hear your mothers sigh at that.

The preparations for the ball were... quite exhausting to say. The dress you've chosen was beautiful, your favorite color too. However the tailor was quite snappy so the fittings were hellish. The ballroom looked amazing. Decorated with flowers and other decorum, however your mothers snapping at every servant was... also quite exhausting.

As your mother says, this is one of the most important nights of your life. Your job is to look pretty and find a husband, nothing else. The thought brought nausea to your stomach though. You're not able to imagine a life with someone just because of money. Especially with the way those wealthy men treat their wives. It's still better than being on the streets but, if you can you'll marry out of love. You already have your eyes on your childhood best friend. But there's no way he reciprocates your feelings...

Your neck adorned with precious gems, dress made out of the finest fabrics, shoes from the best shoemaker and hair decorated with pins. Your beauty made even the more.... uninterested suitors as to say, interested.

They all came here for you, problem is, all they saw until now was a picture. That was from when you were 13 so you weren't blaming them for their shock as you entered the ballroom.

Your target was clear though. Sean. You have to find your best friend. Looking around didn't bring any fruit though. You've decided to walk to the table with drinks. Maybe you'll find him there. And taking a sip of something wouldn't hurt either, would it now.

You stood by the table still as you were sipping on your wine. As you lower the glass your eyes finally catch Sean. But just as you have your eyes set on him your view gets blocked. What in the-

"My lady" an older looking man says, as he bents down and grabs your hand slowly kissing it. He looked and smelled as if he already had more than his share of the wine...

"My lord, what do I owe the pleasure?"

He smiles, his touch now feeling slimey "My lady, I was blown away by your beauty, would be shame if you didnt dance with me,... maybe even take me to your rooms after" his hand was sliding up your arm, this was highly innapropriate, looking for your mother was useless though as she was probably just talking with some wealthy folks

The way his eyes were slipping to your cleavage every few moments was very uncomfortable. And also. He was old. At first you thought he could be your father but honestly up close more like your grandfather. Beard and hair with white streaks with crows feet near his eyes and wrinkles on his forehead... You didn't know what to do. Denying a dance was impolite, especially when you were looking for a husband. But honestly you couldn't even imagine this man as your husband. Your thoughts spiralling into the worst scenarios. When a familiar voice interrupted your conundrum.

"I'm very sorry, but Lady y/n already promised me the first dance. Isn't that right?" Sean, always coming to your rescue was looking at you with his usual smile.

"Yes, yes I did. I'm sorry but Ill have to decline your request." The dukes mouth opened again as if he wanted to say something but you couldn't catch any words as Sean took your hand and led you away.

"Are you alright?" Sean asked as he was taking you to the dance floor as you assumed the positions to dance.

"Yes, I mean I wasn't, but I am now."

"I'm glad. You looked like a spooked doe back there with him. Had to go save you." You couldn't read his face, it was his usual smirk but... with a hint of softness. Something that's quite rare on his face.

"I could've dealt with him. I just needed a little bit more time-"

"I know you could little doe. Maybe i just wanted to save you to feel like the prince charming. Saving his princess. Just like in the fairytales."

"You're quite cheesy today." You retort, suspicious of his sweet words.

"Maybe i just don't want you to get married to these dense lords. They wouldn't... they wouldn't see you the way I do." You wanted him to say more. To explain himself. What did he mean. How does he see you? Does he reciprocate your feelings? But the dance ended. And you had to dance with other men too.

Your mother was pushing you to dance with more estabilished and wealthy men. After dancing the night away though you had enough. The conversation you had with Sean laying heavy on your mind.

The ball hadn't ended yet, but you excused yourself and went to get some air in the gardens. Walking around the rose bushes was your favorite. They looked radiant red under the moonlight. You could feel warmth on your shoulder. You'd swear you almost had a heartattack when you looked and saw it was actually Sean touching it.

"Are you still alright? My lady," asking once again, this time you didn't know what to answer

"Of course" lie. You could see on his face that he knows. His eyebrows furrowed and then raised questionably.

You sigh, "alright alright, I'm not doing the best but I'm ok alright?"

"Is something bothering you, little doe?" He finally tooks his hand off your shoulder, damn you actually miss it now, hoping he'd maybe offer his arm to hold

"I just, I don't know. My mother hoped to find me a wealthy, succesful husband. But none of the men i danced with today seem like good choices for me. For my mother yes, but not for me." He frowned at that.

"Not even me?" You could feel your heart almost stopping. He's really going to give you a heartattack this way.

"I mean- you. We..." ... "did you just- offer yourself to be my husband? Did you just propose?"

"Why did you think I came here for, y/n?"

"I don't know, moral support?" At least you made him smile

"My little doe, you know everything about me. Ive told you my deepest secrets. My hopes and dreams. My plans. And yet you're blind to see how I feel towards you. How could I take any other woman for a wife other than you?" Seans voice slowly went out into the night. Stepping closer towards you as he places his hand on your cheek and lays his forehead on yours.

"Y/n, can I kiss you?" the request was quiet, almost as if he was afraid of the rejection

"Yes" whispering into his lips as you connect yours with them. The kiss was soft. Your first. It felt calming. He was here. And not going anywhere. He was yours, and you were his.

A/N- Im gonna be honest- i havent written anything in AGES. Was struggling with school and after all the studying felt very burnt out. Then went through some family crisis and was contemplating dropping out 🫠BUT. Im going to try to do all the requests now.

Hope you enjoyed!

[shreddeddescent]

Okay the thing about the fucked up au is that I have so many questions and I'm 100% sure that all of the answers will make me nauseous but I'm so fucking curious like how exactly did it happen was it when they were kids or what and was it an injection or did the Shredder threaten Leo with something and UGH I HATE THIS

YEAH YEAH NO I GET YOU. honestly im actually so glad to be asked? cuz a lot of this feels... ugh. like shameful? like everyone hates me for saying this? but the catharsis man... idk. its obviously fucked up, but its like. healing fucked up. so if anyone actually wants to know that feels good honestly, makes me feel less bad.

if youre okay with hearing about me be vague about the dark shit then here you go. still like. i really dont think i could post this as a real fic honestly it would be rated explicit for the bad reasons and its not good enough to warrant that. and its embarrassing. but ill post a snippet in here too of like howwwww everybodies doin in the middle of it

so warnings for. every fucking thing you can think of honestly. csa forced incest violence drugging etc. its bad.

no it was not injection im sorry to say. it was an intense drugging situation. the kids are fucking traumatized big time, hence the need for therapy. like the unavoidable need this time (ala... if april offered that before and splinter was like 'he can be okay enough to not warrant that for his own safety' this time there was no question they need help)

this isnt when they were kids, this is like current. 17 yr old raph andddd do the math backwards. shredder managed to kidnap raph and his brothers failed at a rescue mission to save him. woke up all in glass cages in stockman's lab in foot tower. stockman is there making them do it. hes got a special drug thing. hes monologuing about what hes gonna do with the offspring shredder lets him have. its dark. leo's basically keeping everybody sane by compartmentalizing the next steps of escape the whole time, but its... its daily. it makes a lot of raph's already somewhat obvious DID symptoms worse, as the first day he goes fucking comatose and wont speak or move while they do it, which donnie in particular feels like SHIT about, because raph is like... fucking asleep. so stays present the next day because of how shitty donnie said he felt. unfortunately shredder's there too and suddenly raph's behaving too obedient and like. the door is open and he doesnt try and leave. one of his brothers bites him hard enough he needs medical attention, but he's awake enough that he gets his hand on a screwdriver in stockman's pocket. but its in his cage, so you know.

actually feels like an important snippet here for how its going in there.

--

Raph lets out a breath and sits up straight.

“Is he gone for real?” He asks without looking up.

Leo eyes him carefully.

“What did you grab?”

Donnie and Mikey look over and Raph unfurls his fist.

It’s a screwdriver.

Leo grins.

“Perfect!”

Raph sighs and slumps back against the wall. “No good for me.” He fiddles with it in his hands. It’s pretty small. Unless he wanted to use it as a weapon, which was a bad idea. It was useless.

“Yeah, but good for Donnie. Right?”

He looked over at Donnie who was leaning towards him trying to get a look.

“It… could help me see if I can find the panel where the nanobots come out. Too big to directly try and mess with them.”

“It could also be used to jam in the tracks to let the doors open mid movement.” Leo added, pointing at the tracks on the ceiling.

“It would also look really good jammed into Stockman’s eye socket.” Mikey said darkly.

They all nodded at that.

Raph huffed and rested the back of his head against the wall.

Mikey whined. “But to get it to Donnie that’s… another day of this…”

They all were silent for a moment.

Leo lightly tapped the glass to get everyone's attention.

“Hey. It’s one more day, or forever. I’ll take one more instead.”

Raph idly touched the bandage on his neck, he saw Mikey recoil.

“I-I’m sorry Raph…”

He sighed and held his knees, squeezing the screwdriver in his fist.

“It’s fine… it’s not a big deal…”

“Raph… thanks for… saving me earlier…” Donnie mumbled.

He looked up at him.

“I didn’t do anything. Don’t worry about it.”

Donnie’s eyes were wet.

“I-I told you to stay awake… a-and then Shredder… I-I know you’re scared of him and I’m s-so sorry…”

Raph shot him a sad smirk.

“Hey, I got you back. I bit you. Call it even.”

Donnie touched his own neck where Raph had nipped him in the end. He’d been terrified of how anguished Donnie was about biting him in the first place, so felt he needed to ease his mind.

He would never tell him that though.

“Raph… I’m sorry I didn’t listen to you.” Leo was frowning at him.

“Psh, what are you talking about?”

“You… you told me not to egg dad on, I really didn’t think he’d…” he took a breath. “I’m sorry.”

Raph shrugged.

“I really thought you might leave, and I wouldn’t blame you. You should have just left while he was distracted and gotten Stockman. That was probably the smarter move.”

Leo’s brows furrowed and he slumped down against the glass, holding his hand against the glass in Raph's direction.

“I.. I thought about it, but I couldn’t let dad…”

“Rape me again.” He finished. “Yeah, I get it, you’re nice but it would have been better if he had.”

“You don’t mean that.”

Raph growled and shot up shakily, slamming his arms against the glass and glared wildly at him.

“Look at me Leo!” He shouted. They all went quiet and stared. “I’m not a person right now! I don’t have any needs or feelings! I’m the incubator! There’s no fucking point worrying about me!”

“Raph…” Mikey tried.

“No!” He shot Mikey a glare too. “Enough! Stop fucking looking at me the way you all are! It doesn’t matter in the short term okay?! You guys can’t keep worrying more about my feelings than getting out of here!”

Donnie whined and curled in tighter.

He turned to glare at him next.

“If you want me awake I’ll stay awake! If you need me to lead I’ll do it! I don’t care anymore! I don’t have any body autonomy! Don’t fucking think of me as a person I’m your JOB! The fucking bullshit day to day that doesn’t matter! What matters is getting out!”

“Raph…?” Leo says softly.

He shoots his glare back at Leo.

“I don’t care if the Shredder rapes me for hours, if you have a way to get out you take it and leave me to come back later! I DON'T CARE!!!!” He booms, slamming his fists on the glass. He slides down the wall, pressing his forehead against it and tapping it gently. “I-I don’t… I don’t care anymore…” he feels tears falling down his cheeks, he wasn’t aware he was crying.

They all just watched him sob against the door.

“Y-you… should eat, Raph…” Leo tried. “I.. I need you to be strong and ready for tomorrow, okay…?”

Raph put on a steely gaze and nodded, moving to the corner of the room where his paste had landed and opened it.

They all just watched him sadly. He could feel it.

“I’m not your brother right now. I’m your sister who’s dead. She doesn’t care what you do. When we get out you can apologize to me all you want, but right now? I’m dead and it doesn’t matter.”

“Okay Raph…” Mikey said.

“You… you can be asleep tomorrow Raph.” Donnie tried. “I-I’m sorry I made you not be…”

“No.” He said sharply. “No, I need to be present. I gotta bring you this.” He held up the screwdriver without looking behind him.

He tucked it back into his fist and squirted the paste into his mouth.

“Let’s all just hope I'm not pregnant so we have to go again. Or else we’re well and truly fucked. Or well… I guess I’m getting fucked either way. Whatever. You get what I mean.”

--

“He’s not okay…” Mikey said softly as he could so only Leo could hear him.

Leo stared at his backside as he ate and drank water, he was done talking to them for the day. It was fair.

Leo looked at Mikey, he looked utterly depressed as he stared at Raph.

“He compartmentalizes, you know that…” Leo softly says back. “He’s doing that to survive first, worry later.

“This is going to break his brain forever if we don’t get out soon…”

Leo scoffed a little and lay down, scooping up his own container of paste and squirting some in his mouth.

“Raphs brain has always been broken, don’t worry.”

He saw Mikey glare at him.

He gulped back the tasteless slop hard and smiled apologetically.

“What I mean is he’s used to this kind of shit. It’s not gonna break him as bad as you think. He is the way he is cuz he knew about this before.”

“That really doesn’t make me feel better…”

“Just eat Mikey. We’ll be out of here tomorrow, I promise.”

“You can’t promise that…” he mumbled as he picked up his own food and idly nibbled at it.

Leo turned to look at Donnie, who was laying on the floor inspecting the nanobot grate, trying to see between the grooves.

He shuffled over to speak to him.

“Any ideas?”

“I think they’re a control hatch back there. The screwdriver will work, I’m sure. Then it’s just a matter of trying to program them.”

“You think you can do it?”

“I have to.” He said seriously.

Leo nodded solemnly, leaning into the corner. “You’re worried about Raph.”

“Obviously. I think it’s my fault.”

“If he was asleep he wouldn’t have the key. He’s right, we have to ignore our feelings to get out.”

Donnie huffed and sat up, taking a chug of the water provided.

“That’s what I’m trying to do.”

“Do… we think the misgendering is gonna get to his psyche?”

Donnie shrugged. “What else could go wrong with his psyche at this point? He’s so fucking used to this now. And not just from this, from before.”

Leo sighed and watched him across the room. He was chugging back his water.

“I didn’t know he was THAT fucked up.”

“You never asked. You guys fought all the time, for obvious reasons.”

“Obvious?” He turned to look at Donnie who stared at him like he was stupid.

“I mean. You literally took everything he had just cuz he was born wrong, in his eyes. And when we were younger you’d mock him for it. It made sense, cuz he was so mean to you and you didn’t know why, but… he fucking hates himself, he has ever since he hit puberty.”

Leo frowned and rubbed his arm.

“I… I didn’t know that… how did you know that..?”

“Cuz I pay attention. No one was ever looking at me, so I just tried to figure out what was going on.”

“So… this whole… being female thing is literally like… the thing he hates most?”

“Duh.”

“Jesus we need to get him out of here.”

“Again, duh.” Donnie was now swallowing back his paste.

Leo pressed his fists to his forehead.

“God I need to apologize to him…”

“Yeah, but not till we’re out. You heard him. He’s not Raph right now, don’t pull him back into this. Just do what he wants until we get out.”

Leo took a deep breath and sat up.

“Yeah. Yeah okay.”

--

the last day hes slash (before we or they know who slash is) and when leo gets in that cage with him that day it all gets worse, cuz slash knows every fucking thing about raph's traumas and he knows leo has fucked up somehow, and hes taking it out on him. and leo finally has to apologize for everything to calm him down. its kind of nuts.

but it was only a few days, and they do escape. and they uh are VERY blood thirsty afterwards, lot of fucking dead foot ninja. lot of laughing as they do it. they run into shredder during and raph finally fucking lets all that rage loose on the person who deserves it. we are talking about brains smashed in rage. we are talking THROWS his corpse in a fire and watches it burn. CATHARSIS.

they couldnt like. touch each other outside of... you know. hence the need to feel like overly affectionate with each other afterwards, hence raph spiralling about that, hence the blow up with splinter. he genuinely feels like a slut about it. and its hard. but like this is why the therapy big mama is giving them is good. thats why its so fucked up.

but obviously! they paid for her services somehow.

so. if you uhhhhh hated hearing all of that im sorry. again its not something i really wanna post in full, but jesus its my ownnnn fun fucked up little world where the characters are not okay but theyre gonna be.

[darklydeliciousdesires]

London Will Burn - Chapter Twelve.

Look at me go! I updated on time for once, haha! Happy Friday, besties. Hope you all have a wonderful weekend <3

Previous chapters - One Two Three Four Five Six Seven Eight Nine Ten Eleven

Tag list - In the comments, please DM to be added/removed

Words - 4,180

Warnings - 18+ content throughout. Minors DNI.

“Sorry mate! Christ, the traffic was absolute murder! They’ve completely closed off the bloody main road outside my offices and... Oh, hot waiters. Hello!” 

In times of tension, Rin knew she could always trust in her old friend Carly for a little light relief, literally veering off mid-sentence to appreciate the appearance of the wait staff there at San Carlo, where they were meeting for a long overdue catchup dinner.  

With their beloved Rashida now living over in Chicago, it was just the two of them, their friendship fully re-bonded since Rin’s return from Africa. Not that geographical distance had diminished the love or closeness between the two lifelong friends whatsoever.  

“Oh, don’t worry. It’s fucking mayhem out there! Come here, give me a smooch,” Rin assured her, kissing her cheek as they embraced. “I only got here on time because I was in Chelsea for a meeting this afternoon.” Carly took her seat, thanking Rin when she dutifully poured her a glass of wine. “Anyway, why are you eyeing up waiters? Not loved up with twat waffles, still?” 

No, it was fair to say that Rin had never really liked Carly’s long-term boyfriend, Mathias. Not after their visit to Kenya, when he’s gotten absolutely smashed, resulting in him thinking he could square up to Sokoro, a decision that had landed him in a world of regret. Being dangled by his ankles over the top of the stairs within the lodge by the pissed off Kenyan until he’d apologised had sobered him up nicely, though. 

“You will be pleased to hear that the man known only as twat waffles to you is no longer in my life. Yeeted him about four weeks ago. I’ll say it, you were right.”  

Rin beamed. “I always am.” Well, not always. The events of the previous week were still burning in her gut, being shamed in the way she had been by Sean and his superior powers of deduction. “No but honestly, honey. I’m glad because you can do so much better than him!” 

“In this instance, you are correct. I can and I will, with that waiter over there with the blonde hair if I have my way.” She paused, raising her glass in his direction. He was at the table in seconds. 

“Good evening, ladies. Are we ready to order?” 

Oh, he was so sweet, absolutely none the wiser to the fact there was a bona fide man eater about to chomp down upon him. “Not yet, love. I was just appreciating the fact that you happen to be the most gorgeous man within the restaurant, so cheers to you.” 

He pinked at the cheeks, nodding while attempting to bite back his grin. “Well, when you need me, feel free to appreciate me again.”  

Rin chuckled, shaking her head. “We'll take some focaccia and olives to nibble while we decide, please.” 

He made a quick note on his iPad, smiling widely. “Certainly.” Scampering away, Rin fixed her friend with a look of pure mirth. 

“You’re terrible, Muriel.” 

Her assessment had Carly in hysterics, reciting their favourite line from the nineteen nineties cult classic film, Muriel’s wedding. They’d always said it to one another when there was mischief afoot. “I am, this much is true. So, how’s everything? How’s work, and my beautiful goddaughter?” 

“Tiger is perfect, as usual. As for work... hm.”  

Inclining her head, she took a sip of wine and thanking the waiter when he brought over the required pre-dinner nibbles. She winked again and of course, he blushed furiously. “Oh? I sense a story there. Does it have anything to do with her dad? How’s all of that going, by the way?” Of course, Carly had been made privy to it all. She’d known right from the start, after all.  

She ground her teeth before forcing a somewhat terse smile to her face. “I gave him a black eye last week.”  

Some things truly never changed, Carly making a motion with her hand that she should elaborate. “The tea requires spilling, Miss C.” 

And so, Rin did. She spared certain details over her work (although of course, Carly well knew she was a hardened criminal, Rin never gave away enough that could implicate her at any point in the future, just in case) but managed to sum it all up in a way that gave the story without all of the nuanced ins and outs of it.  

“Right, so he potentially saved you from making a big mistake with the Per...” she began, eyes scanning around before leaning in close to whisper, “the PM, shall we say, and you gave him hell for it?”  

“He embarrassed me in front of my associates, and took great pleasure in doing so,” she spoke, picking up another small cube of focaccia and dunking it into the balsamic vinegar bowl. “I don’t take kindly to that.” 

A taste of one’s own medicine was always the bitterest, Carly couldn’t help but note. “Yet you do exactly the same with him at any given opportunity.”  

Rin frowned. “I’m sorry, who’s side are you on here, exactly?” 

“Yours, always yours, love,” she was quick to interject, “but sweet, from what you’ve told me about him, if you bite at him, he’ll do exactly the same back. You two, you’re much too similar for your own good. Something I believe you once said about you both, didn’t you?” 

The focaccia was chewed upon with mild fury. “He doesn’t deserve to ever have one over on me. Not after what he did. I want him to suffer. His punishment will be prolonged, mark my words.” 

God, she was so hardheaded, especially when it came to Sean. Carly looked a little pensive, picking up her wine. “Do you want to know what I think about that? The complete, unfiltered truth?” 

Her lips thinned, eventually nodding. “I suppose an outside perspective couldn’t hurt.”  

“Okay.” She took a breath and another sip of Sauvignon Blanc for courage, placing her glass back down again softly.  

“You’ve already punished him enough, Rin. You deprived him of a relationship with his daughter for six years, and you came back and took an empire he was planning to preside over out from under him, and then made him effectively run his own company for you, on your terms. Trust me, from what you’ve told me about Sean, you’ve hit him twice where it hurts with big strikes. Family and business are what means everything to him, and you hold all the power over both. Prolonging that, well, as far as I can see, mate, all that does is cause problems for you.” 

“How?” 

“Your business deals should be running smoothly, and if you continue to hold him in contempt, they simply won’t. Risky really, when taken into consideration just what you do. Then of course, for Tiger. In fact, mostly for Tiger. Trying to repeatedly cut her father down for a mistake he made seven years ago will only hurt you and her in the end. Has he ever offered you an apology for his actions?” 

She lifted her chin, remembering it, when he told her of his lament. “He has. I have to give him that.” 

Carly reached for her arm, squeezing softly. “Well, then. There you go. You have to stop figuratively yeeting him right in the gonads for it at point or another, or behaving like this is only lowering you to his level, or former level, I don’t know. I can’t speak for him, but I can speak for your character. You’re better than this.” 

If anyone was going to give her the truth, it was Carly. It was a truth she did need to hear, too, before the battleground that was her relationship – or lack thereof – with the father of her child became even bloodier than it already was. “Why are you bloody laughing? I’m trying to talk seriously for once in my flippin’ life! You could at least appreciate my attempt to be sage!” 

“I am,” Rin chuckled, covering her hand with hers where it still rested upon her arm. “It’s just you still can’t help but be funny through it. Yeeting him in the gonads, oh god.” She descended there, laughing richly, even wiping a few tears from her eyes, it had entertained her so much.  

“And at the fucking risk of getting my head bitten off, well, maybe it’s because you still lust after what’s hanging directly above the gonads that you’re getting yourself so bent out of shape over him.” 

Immediately, she sat a little more upright, her laughter stalled. “Order me the burrata salad to start and then the salmon penne. I’m going for a cigarette.” 

“Avoidance tactics,” Carly chimed as Rin rose from her seat, discreetly offering her middle finger in salute.  

“Bugger off.” 

“Filthy habit,” she further teased, Rin mouthing that she was a knob, her clearly entertained friend giggling as she picked up her wine. “This could all be so much simpler for you if you weren’t so much like your dad.” she muttered, sipping the buttery smooth Sauvignon while looking down at the menu to make her choice.  

They had a lovely night together, parting ways at just gone 10pm, Carly heading home and Rin calling a car to do the same. After stopping at a Tesco Express to purchase a bottle of Johnnie Walker Black, though, home was not where she ended up.  

Sean was coming to the end of a five-mile treadmill run when the buzzer sounded through his penthouse, slowing the machine to walk before climbing off, his bare chest glistening with sweat. 

“Yes?” he spoke into the intercom, seeing the woman upon the screen turn to reveal her face to the front entrance camera.  

“Can we talk?” 

She had a nerve, turning up out of the blue at 10:35pm. “That depends on whether I’m going to get lambasted all over again for trying to do the fucking right thing, Catherine.” 

“You aren’t. Promise.” She knew she needed to give a little, Carly’s words hitting home with her a little. He buzzed her in, Rin moving to the lift, hitting the button for the penthouse. As it glided in ascent, she spoke sternly to herself, her internal monologue advising that she needed to keep calm and talk things through with him, apologise for her pride getting in the way the week before, that she was doing this for the greater good of business continuing to run smoothy, and for her daughter to have a father in her life. One who truly did want to be there.  

All of her steely composure flew straight out the window when he opened the door to her, though, when her eyes nearly fell out of her head for seeing him there, shirtless and gleaming with sweat, his navy joggers so low slung she could almost see his... 

“Well, don’t you look resplendent in Dolce and Gabbana,” he spoke, raising an eyebrow.  

She cocked her head, swallowing hard. “How did you know this is D&G?” 

He took a moment, his eyes roaming her slender curves. “I have an eye for quality.” The scent of her perfume wafted under his nose, spellbinding, those orchid notes reminding him how it felt to have his senses flooded by it, his eyes meeting hers.  

Her body moved, yet her feet planted, her mouth agape as her chest and cheeks flushed, overcome by the sight of him like that, her throat drying. No. Not now. She willed her brain to take the reins away from the jockey that was her desire, steer her right, but she failed. It was too strong, charging away down a path she swore never to encroach upon again, moving in a second to press her mouth to his, his arms immediately locking around her as he kissed her back with all the heat of a thousand suns.  

Now they were in trouble.  

Flattened against the door, he pinned her there as they gave in to the torrent, his hands smoothing over her body, reaching to ruck her dress up around her waist, both panting furiously as their tongues rolled in an erotic dance, Sean grasping her thong and tearing it from her in one swift yank. It sent a flood to where she ached for him, her legs wrapping around him as he lifted her, pulling his joggers down just enough to free his cock and plunge it into her fully. 

Lord, how she’d missed the feel of being split wide around him, kissing him in utter frenzy. It was mindless, feral sex, their need for one another rampant and unhinged, her body banging against the thick, black door as he fucked out every single wave of desire, longing and, if he was honest, utter contempt he held for her, his fingers dug in hard beneath her thighs.  

It sizzled through her, each sparking pulse, tiny fireworks set to burn within her blood, crying out as he filled her again and again, his teeth at her neck scintillating, hanging onto him for dear life. It felt like he was attempting to fuck her right through the door, the pace barbaric, smouldering, everything she needed and had craved in the years they’d been parted.  

It shimmered through them both, the crest of an almighty wave they rode until it crashed, washing over them entirely, Rin feeling completely mindless as she swam to the surface of her pleasure, desire glimmering down her spine. That was the moment her brain engaged, her breathless body pinned by his, their tightened muscles slackening as the divinity ebbed away. 

Oh, god. Damn him. Damn him for being so fucking irresistible.  

He was the first to speak, finally sobering from his orgasm enough to form words. “Please don’t tell me we’ve just possibly given Tiger a sibling.” 

“We haven’t,” she panted, “IUD.” 

“Oh, thank Christ.” He finally looked at her, withdrawing and placing her down, his mouth twitching a little. “So, you wanted to talk?” 

“I did,” she confirmed, rearranging her dress, looking away. Easily, she could have throttled herself for her actions, hiding her face in her hands for a moment, dying a little. “For fucks sake! We’re such a mess.”  

He raised an eyebrow, pulling his joggers and boxers back up again. “That we are, Catherine.” He paused, watching her run her hands over her hair, still looking desperately uncomfortable. “We could become less messy, though. Perhaps if we ceased the urge to needle at one another quite so much as we do.”  

“Are you truly admitting to the fact that you do?” she asked, Sean feeling his blood flicker in annoyance. 

“I am, yes. Because somebody who continues to fucking punish me for the mistakes of my past bloody deserves it. Know that for my part, it is only in retaliation,” he told her, walking over to his kitchen, Butch there in his bed, absolutely none the wiser to her arrival and subsequent pounding against the front door.  

She pulled the bottle from her bag, nodding towards him. “It’s because you enjoy the fight, Sean. Don’t pretend that isn’t how it is.”  

God. The Woman was insufferable. He turned to her, his nostrils flaring. “Stop it. If I can put my ego aside here and admit my transgressions, then so can you. You know full well you hold your power over me like a fucking sword of Damocles, in both business and with Tiger whenever the opportunity arises. Now, admit that, or get the fuck out. I’m going for a shower; I suggest you take the time I’m gone to consider that. Glasses are above the sink cupboard.” 

She knew she had to, he was right, but god, it wasn’t easy. They were both just too similar, too – to use an analogy she herself had many times before – cut from the exact same cloth. Except this time, deep down Rin knew that Sean was right, and she loathed him for it all the more.  

Life would be made exponentially easier for her if she simply ceased her desire to punish him, to realise that Carly was right. She had struck back against him more than evenly. The playing field was entirely equal once more.  

Just last week she’d heard Ed Dumani offer peace towards Sean, and regardless of the fact he hadn’t been ready to accept, she knew that a clean slate was exactly what had to happen between her and the father of her child, so that ultimately that precious little girl didn’t suffer because of her parent’s rampant toxicity.  

“I almost expected you to have done a runner.” His words pulled her from her thoughts, a freshly showered Sean entering the kitchen again, going to the cupboard himself to retrieve the glasses she’d been preoccupied from fetching. “I perhaps couldn’t blame you if you had.”  

He poured two large measures, Rin thanking him as he slid hers across the black marble worktop, knocking it back in one. He followed suit. “Come on, it’s fucking cold in here and the lounge is warm.” They walked back out again, Butch still sleeping on with a series of deep snores, taking a seat upon the long, L shaped grey sofa, Sean refilling their glasses. “So, what did you come here with the intention of saying?” 

Taking a breath, she closed her eyes for a second, seeing Tiger there in her mind’s eye. It forced her to take a lasso to her pride and give it several tethering yanks. “I want to apologise for my part in us continuing to have friction. It isn’t conducive to us healthily co-parenting Tiger, no matter how much I dislike you at times. I need to be better for my daughter.”  

He snorted softly, sipping his drink. “At times? Catherine, you despise me near enough constantly.”  

“Do you truly blame me for that?”  

“Yes, I fucking do when you’ve had seven bloody years to get over it!” he spoke tersely. “I apologised to you, and it was sincere. I regret what I did to you, every fucking day I regret it, but god above, woman! You have to take your fucking boot off my bloody neck at some point.” She looked accepting of his words, albeit that acceptance bitter, Sean continuing in her silence. “I lost everything, went through hell after my father died, attempted to claw it back only to have you take it all again and only give it on your terms. Terms I have complied with.” 

“But Sean...” 

“No, for fucks sake, there isn’t a fucking but here! Stop fucking punishing me. If you want me to cease resenting you, then you have to stop making me sorry for something I already regret! I am doing everything in my power to prove worthiness, to prove most importantly that I can and will be a fit father for Tiger, but as soon as you perceive me to have any kind of upper hand, you fucking use her against me, like you did with the Persians!” 

Her ire ramped in an instant. “You fucking enjoyed that, making me look small!” 

“I didn’t want Bahram Forouhandeh to fucking kill you! I was looking out for you, you ignorant, insufferable woman!” His eyes were wide, exasperated as he scoffed, sinking his whiskey. “And yes, maybe I did derive a little joy from cutting you down, but bloody hell, Rin! Like you don’t do exactly the same to me at every fucking opportunity!” 

“I just apologised, and you’re throwing it at me all over again!” 

“Because you need to have it thrown at you all over a-bloody-gain to recognise what you’re doing to me!” He took a moment, his heart jackrabbiting in his chest, trying to calm down from the anger that had all too sharply risen. “Your father was exactly the same. On his terms or not at all. You? You’re better than that, and I am one of the very few people in your life who not only sees that, but isn’t too afraid of you to tell you either.” 

Neither was Carly, and it wasn’t lost on her, how his statements more or less matched those of her oldest friend. She’d always taken pride in the fact people likened her to her father, but truly never dawned in her until right then that perhaps it wasn’t always a complimentary likeness.  

Bolting back her drink, she took a deep breath. “I’m sorry, Sean.” They were words that did not come easily, feeling bitter, like ashes in her mouth.  

Standing, he picked up the bottle, moving to seat himself at her side, topping up her empty glass. “Finally. Now I only have to await a little sincerity in your actions going forward, and maybe my fucking blood pressure might lower a tad.” 

Lifting the glass to her lips, she took a sip, nodding. “What would like first, then, for me to show this sincerity?” 

“A blowjob wouldn’t go amiss.” He expected the light slap he received to the chest. “Well, you did ask.” 

“And you just shagged the shit out of me against the front door not ten minutes ago!” 

He smirked, his eyebrows twitching. “I never claimed not to he insatiable.” 

Rolling her eyes, she rested her head back against the comfy sofa, biting her lip. He certainly never had, as a mere few minutes against the door had reminded her, should she have forgotten. “No, you definitely didn’t. I’m still not putting your cock in my mouth, though.” 

“Spoil sport.” The conversation moved away from their dalliance into the verboten, talking instead about of work and life, and then of Tiger when they were over half a bottle into the whiskey.  

“I know I say how perfect she is, the bias of being her mum, and she’s always so well-mannered when we meet up with you,” Rin began, her words peppered by giggles. 

“Apart from when we took her on the Harry Potter tour and she had a meltdown mid-way round,” he interrupted with, remembering the squealing well.  

“Yes, apart from that.” She paused again, looking pained. “You fucking have a habit of doing this to me, interrupting and making me forget what I was about to say!” 

He snickered, flicking the side of her glass. “No, darling. That’s called alcohol.”  

“Anyway, as I was saying…” 

“As you were saying.” 

God, how he knew how to wind her up, even when he was being playful rather than deliberately devious. “Be quiet, or I’ll black your other eye.” 

“You bloody won’t,” he warned, “look at it, still purple.” It was, too, just a smidgen marking the skin violet around the socket.  

“As I was saying, she isn’t the perfect, Tiger. She’s going through a phase of saying things she definitely shouldn’t at the moment. She called the window cleaner a dickhead the other day because he appeared suddenly and startled her.” 

Predictably, Sean cracked up hard. “The profanity apple has not fallen far from the tree, I see.” 

She laughed, cringing a little. “No, it certainly hasn’t. That child had bionic hearing, and stealth mode. I never know when she’s going to sneak up on me and overhear my vulgar mouth. Bastard shoes was another recent one, when she couldn’t get her little Timberland boots on because she hadn’t loosened the laces. Sokoro nearly pissed himself laughing at her.”  

“When do you plan on telling her who I am?” he then asked, Rin feeling a little pit inside for the question, no matter how gently delivered.  

“Soon, I think. Before our next meeting. She needs to know.”  

He smiled. “Good plan.”  

What was also a good plan to them that night was working their way through the rest of the Johnnie Walker, Rin feeling the effects strongly, not having much memory of the night. Upon waking the following morning, she certainly had no remembrance over how she’d ended up in Sean’s bed, her sober, slightly hungover self feeling a little flicker of panic. 

They hadn’t... nope. Her underwear was still on, she felt after checking, her shuffling around stirring the body at her side.  

“Morning,” he yawned, propping himself up. “I hope you don’t mind, but if you’d slept on the sofa you’d have only awoken to Butch trying to sit on your head, so I brought you in here.”  

“You have more than one bedroom though, no?”  

He might have been half asleep, but he heard the tease in her tones clearly. “I do, but the beds aren’t made up and I was too pissed to wrestle with a fucking duvet cover, so yes. Here you are.” 

The warmth of him, the bright of his blue eyes, the scent of his skin. No. Not again. 

“Here I am.” She looked down for a second, feeling a hand reach beneath her chin, Sean shifting closer, his heart quickening as she looked up from beneath her long, full eyelashes at him.  

That time, he was the instigator of the kiss they fell into, his body moving to cover hers. 

Now they were in trouble. 

[onyondump]

Sly Fox 

Part 2 of Infatuated

Arthur Shelby x M!Reader x Linda Shelby

WARNING! : Slight NSFW🚨 , Slight Angst, Harsh Language, None of the characters here are good people  

Synopsis : Arthur came home to a silent wife and a smiling fox

Note : Thank you for liking “Infatuated” and wanting a part 2 of it. Honestly I don’t even plan on continuing it, I just had a funny one liner I thought would be good to write a fic around it.

Infatuated | Masterlist

English is my second language, my grammar and writing is not good. Please don’t eat me

It was dinner time when Arthur finally arrived home from the Arrow House only drinking one glass of whiskey which came as a surprise to Tommy and John. It’s a huge progress from finishing two bottles of auburn liquid in a single day, all thanks to the day he met you. 

When he first met you he had broken your nose out of suspicion. A smile he can only attribute to that of a cunning fox was plastered across your face and your eyes that follow his every move he makes irks him into thinking  that you were some opportunistic hooligan mistakenly taking the high in adrenaline Arthur Shelby as his enemy. Much to his surprise you would come back to his club the next day with a bandaged nose with the same shit eating grin asking if he’d like a drink. He laughed of course at the thought of this stranger buying him a drink. At his own fookin bar? Nonetheless he accepted, curious of what he presumed to be a stupid stranger buying booze for his own assaulter.

You were full of surprise for him, enchanting him with your stories, jokes and wit that he couldn’t get enough talking to you, not realizing that the club was now empty and the warm morning sun greets their tired eyes. You would come to his club every night after your unspecified job just to talk with him over everything and nothing at the same time, building up your friendship and maybe something more. The last day of his supposed ‘three month work’ (his excuse to get away from Linda for a while) he finally confessed his feelings for you. He explained how you made him feel like his old self again, how the sound of screaming and booming of war became a far away echo since he met you, and also how his stomach and heart aches for something. In his honesty, he told you how much shame he feels loving another man but also that he might explode if he never told you how he feels. You took it slow, processing the information he had just given you, this was Arthur in his most bare. Admittedly you had only wanted to quell your curiosity for the gangster, maybe even enticing him to be your new customer. You hadn’t really expected to develop feelings for the man much less him reciprocating it. That same night you hold his hands gently as you kissed his thinly chapped lips in the dimly lit private room of his club. Arthur wanted to be a good man for you so he thought bringing you to his house would be a such good idea, it’s not but you could figure something out. 

‘I’m home luv” Arthur open the door to the house to his wife and his lover preparing dinner, instantly relieving him of the stressful environment of the Arrow House 

“Welcome home, Art. Billy’s with Polly so its only us adults in the house” Linda flinched at your response, not even replying to her husband which Arthur found odd. Usually she would scold him for being late but any chance Arthur gets for peace he’ll take it. 

Dinner was awkward. Arthur tried to sprung up a conversation only to be returned with his lover replying dryly and his wife avoiding even looking at him. He couldn’t help but be worried at what happened when he was gone. 

He retired himself to his shared bedroom excusing his tired old bones expecting Linda to follow suit in a couple of minutes so he could ask her in private, not wanting to subject you to any of the fighting. Tiredness from the long drive got the better of him and he fell asleep waiting for Linda to enter their room. 

The sound of shattering glass woke him up, half asleep Arthur grabbed his gun he keeps in his side drawer. Even when life has gone soft on him he still needs to protect the ones he loves. As he ran to the living room expecting an intruder as he pointed the gun at the sounds of gasps and moaning. Wait! Moaning? Fully awake he realized that he’s pointing the gun to his lovers head

“How was your nap Arthy?” the ever distinct foxlike grin on your face “Care to join us?” Only then did Arthur realize what he’s witnessing. His wife was on your lap with her skirt hiked up revealing her bare wet cunt rubbing on your thighs and you naked with a face covered in his wife's favorite color of lipstick, Coral. 

“What The Fook IS GOING ON HERE!” his horse screamed echo’s through the vast and lonely land he purchased for Linda. Betrayal was the first thing he felt, forcefully separating both of them from each other. He was a good man! He doesn't deserve this!

“He told me he fucked you! He told me that your three months of ‘work’ is spent fucking around at your satanic club” she barked back with an equal amount of emotion. She felt empty, the man that she sacrificed her perfect life to redeem went back to his old ways

“I gave you everything Linda! This fuckin house, this big ass land, the fuckin chickens. I cut off Tommy to be with you, I became a good man FOR YOU. I deserve to have some time away from your screaming” 

“You were a sack of sad shit when I met you. YOU were a child begging for his dead mommy to come and tell him he’s a good boy after snorting a whole bottle of satan’s seeds and now your bent. I deserve a better man than you!” 

A laugh escaped your mouth like you were watching some kind of circus act unfolding in front of you. What a conundrum to catch your partner cheating with the same man you were with, while both of you try to spin the story like they’re the good one in this situation. 

Of course it didn't go unnoticed by pot and kettle as their furious face snaps at you like dears realizing the fox has tricked them. 

“What the hell are you laughing at?” his voice softens when asking you, its almost unfair.

“Well for one, you're hard” you eyed his growing tent in his trousers which he tries to hide with his hands which really didn’t do much as both yours and Linda’s eyes had already preoccupied itself on the shape. 

Without warning you push both of them down into the sofa, “Second its funny that you two decided to cheat on the same person, me” you let off a small laugh 

“He cheated on me first” Linda’s pride in her righteousness is something to behold honestly. How she convinced herself that se had redeem the gangster is beyond ludicrous. 

“Now you're just being a kid Linda. You didn’t know that before you confessed to me earlier this morning. Talking about running away to the States like I’m some kind of prince charming here to save you from you big bad gangster husband” 

“YOU WHAT?!!” 

“Look! The truth will set you free eh? You're both lonely people that grew apart as the spark of your marriage dims down. So why not accept me as your new addition to your relationship? Besides you two can’t get enough of me anyway” sly as a fox everybody tells you

“That's immoral” “Your cocky ain't ya?” 

“Yea well what do you expect? you’ve both sinned so why not just dive into the deep end and enjoy the ride since your both still in this living room and haven’t beaten me out of your house yet” both of your legs moved between each of their thighs, dangerously close to their leaking arousals. 

“What do you say Lovers?”

[rancidpancakebatter]

tasm!peter parker

like honestly i’m not sure how to exactly set this up, but like a mini series of like a friends to lovers but the reader already has been in a relationship for like three years or something and she finally realizes that her partner isn’t really fulfilling the role of her partner in the relationship and seeks out help from peter and gwen ? idk i just thought this quote from my favorite movie would fit that, like she should try to make her relationship work or just end it ? idk you know i love you so we’ll see what happens next, i’ll love any direction you’d want to approach it with ! 😊💗🫶🏼🫶🏼

🎥: before we go

brooke dalton:
it’s possible, isn't it? it’s possible that you could meet somebody who's perfect for you even though you're committed to somebody else.

nick vaughan:
no, no, see, i think if you're committed to somebody, you don't allow yourself to find perfection in someone else.

Another Way to Fly-[P.P.] | Chapter One

Pairing: TASM!college!Peter Parker x female!college!reader

 Summary: You've been dating Harry Osborne for three years. You love him...but maybe not as much as you once did. Maybe not enough.

AU Where Norman isn’t as sick- he’s just an asshole- and Gwen doesn’t go to Oxford. Harry is functioning as an apprentice at Oscorp (He graduated with a master's in two years because of his studying abroad). You, Peter, and Gwen are all seniors at ESU. Because Norman isn’t dying the whole “Goblin” thing is scratched from the record so Peter and Harry are besties.

Word Count: 3.8k

Content Warnings: Swearing, Drinking (Of age), Skeezy men, Blatant objectification of reader, Norman Osborne (I dunno if that's really a warning but like he's gross and a terrible father so I'm listing it)

Previous | | Next

A/N: So sorry this took so long @scorpiolystoned! I got caught up in a lot of stuff and it took a second but the first chapter is FINALLY HERE! I'm having fun with this one :))

You were at yet another fundraiser in yet another gown that cost more than your monthly rent, talking to yet another stuffy old man who felt the need to make his opinion known. You smiled politely as he continued to tell you how your generation's greatest issue was a lack of work ethic, which was rich coming from a man who inherited his ten-million-dollar mansion upstate. You were on your third glass of champagne and considering getting a brandy instead. Anything that might make this conversation less painful. 

Normally you would have no issue telling him off- rattling off about the lies sold to the working class by the privileged elite- but alas, you were here with your boyfriend, and you couldn’t taint his reputation. Harry would be inheriting Oscorp one day and would need these men to like him to keep it running. So you bit your tongue and plastered on a fake smile. 

You said nothing about how insane they all sounded. You said nothing about the racist comments they made about their housekeepers. You said nothing about the skeezy comments they would make about you. You said nothing, because here: women are trophies, not people. 

You hated going to these events but you loved Harry. You knew he didn’t like them much either, constantly having to defend his capability and intelligence to men who claim he’s just an idiot boy with a well-respected father.

He asked you to come to keep him sane. However, he was nowhere to be seen. There was no one to save you from this creepy man asking if college was really the right move because it would be better to settle down, “it would be a shame to waste all that beauty.” 

You politely excused yourself and made your way to the bar. One benefit of snobby, elitist parties: open bars. You ordered something top-shelf and strong while you fished your phone from your clutch. You sent out a text to Harry letting him know where you were and asking him to come back to your side. You sat there for an hour, nursing your second drink, until he came back. 

“Hey babe, sorry about that. My dad reintroduced me to some shareholders and I couldn’t get away.” He gave you a peck on the lips and he sat down next to you. 

You rested your head on his shoulder and his arm draped over the back of your shoulders.

“I’m sorry, I’m sure you’re more than ready to leave.” You told him you were and he nodded. 

As he looked at his watch he sucked his teeth. “If we leave now it’ll be too soon. Can you hang in another hour?” 

You pouted at him and he leaned into you, “I promise I’ll make it up to you.”

You shivered as he kissed just below your ear. He placed his hands in yours as his kisses started trailing lower. 

“Okay, okay. You win.” A smile stretched across his face and you swatched his chest. “But you better not abandon me again. I mean it, Osborn.”

He playfully winces as he stands from his chair, “Ooh, last name. She’s serious.”

He gave you another peck on the lips, “I promise.” 

And with that, you let him lead you back into the horde. 

You made small talk and you played the role of a doting, hype man. To be fair, you didn’t really have to fake that. You loved Harry. It wasn’t hard to gush about his accomplishments, you were immensely proud of him. However you had to format your adoration differently for this crowd, and you hated that. 

An hour turned into two, which turned into three. Eventually, you pulled him aside and told him you were ready to go. You felt gross and emotionally exhausted. Harry said he still couldn’t leave but looking at your face he knew you were done.

He called you a cab and told you he would see you later. You hated leaving without him but understood. After a shower, you got ready for bed. You tried to stay up for him but the drinks you had made your eyes heavy and soon you were drifting off to sleep. 

You woke up the next morning in an empty bed. You checked your phone to see Harry had texted you. 

“I went home with my father last night. Have a good day of classes.” You pushed away the sadness you felt and sent him a text saying you would, asking if you would see him today. 

You got up and ready and made your way to a cafe just off campus. Every Monday, you went to Cafè Luna and met up with your friends before class. It was a lovely tradition that began about a year ago when you all discussed how abhorrent you found Mondays. This was a good way to make sure everyone started off on a good note. 

You pulled at the glass door and were greeted by the smell of cocoa, butter, sugar, bread, and coffee. A mix that always made you happy. You got in line, pondering what kind of breakfast you wanted today. You could go for the classic breakfast sandwich, or possibly a sweet treat would brighten your mood more. You decided on both, knowing Gwen would split whatever confectionary you got. 

As you got to the counter, you gave the cashier your order and handed her Harry’s card. You grabbed a table while you waited for your order to be called out. Just then, two of your three favourite people walked in. You smiled as Gwen waved, rushing towards you to wrap you in a hug. She kissed you on the cheek before separating. Peter beamed at you as well and enveloped you in a firm hug.

You would never tell anyone, but he was the best hugger in the group by far. He always hugged with just enough strength to make you feel warm and safe but not enough to hurt or feel trapped. 

Once in your unofficial seating chart, Peter looks around the shop. “Where’s Harry?” 

You force a smile, trying not to let your own disappointment show. “He’s at his dad’s. I’m not sure he’s gonna make it today.”

Peter huffed, letting his lips flap together at the end. “Bummer, I was hoping to see ole Harr-Harr.”

You nodded in understanding, wishing for the same. You couldn’t get too lost in your thoughts as you heard your name called from across the cafe. 

You stood from your chair, “Sorry guys, I already ordered. I was pretty hungry.”

They both reassured you that it was fine. Peter stood from the table as well. “I’ll go get in line.” 

He kissed Gwen on the forehead before walking across the store with you. You grabbed your food and headed back to the table. You placed your cinnamon roll between you and Gwen and passed her a fork.

She feigned innocence, claiming she couldn’t possibly take your food, but eventually gave in when you pointed out how big it was. This was a local shop, and they made all their baked goods in huge sizes. The cinnamon roll between you was almost as big as your hand. 

Peter soon returned with his and Gwen’s orders. Gwen thanked him with a kiss on the cheek as Peter casually draped his arm around her. You smiled at the couple and the domesticity they displayed. It was sweet. 

“So,” Gwen asked pulling you from your thoughts, “How was your weekend?” 

You told her about how you spent most of it preparing for Oscorp's last fundraiser. Norman did a fundraiser once a month, cycling through different organizations and causes.

Last night was for Cerebral Palsy. There was a giant check for a cool million dollars on display in the Osborn name. You hated that charity was thrown around in this way, as a power grab, but you guess there are worst things they could do with their money. 

Because of Harry’s absence this morning your friends could sympathise with you openly. 

“Yikes, I don’t miss those.”

“How many guys commented on your dress?”

You chuckled, “Yeah Pete, you’re real lucky and only two men commented on my dress. However, three commented on my hips, and six on how beautiful I was.”

Gwen grimaced while Peter looked between the two of you, confused. “I don’t understand. Being called beautiful is bad?” He looked directly at Gwen, “Should I not call you that anymore?”

She chuckles and places a hand over his heart. You watch Peter physically calm at the act. “No, but there’s a certain way in which some men say that doesn’t really mean ‘you’re beautiful.’”

“It means, ‘I see you as a sex object and I am imagining having sex with you right now as we are talking.’” You helpfully supplied. 

Gwen raised a finger and pointed it at you with a look of “she’s right.” Peter scrunched up his face in disgust. 

“Ew, men are pigs.” You both hummed in agreeance as you tore into your breakfast sandwich. 

They told you of their weekend: Dinner at Mays and a nice night in. You tried not to be jealous. You wished that you could do that sort of stuff with Harry. He always wanted to go out, spend money, be seen. You wished that your attention was enough. 

You almost got lost in your conversation about work when you caught a glimpse of your phone on the table. You usually kept it in your purse, but you were hoping to get a message from Harry. 

“Oh shit! Sorry, I gotta run or I’ll be late for class.” You gathered your stuff and hugged your friends goodbye. 

This was a nice tradition, you thought. Your Monday definitely felt a lot better. 

You walked out of your last class and sent another text to Harry. He still hadn’t replied to your earlier one from this morning. 

“Hey! Missed you at Luna’s today. I’m on my way home.”

You didn’t officially live with Harry, but you might as well. For the past four months, you spent almost every night there. He had made space for you and your things. You had your products in the bathroom and your snacks in the cupboard. Really you only went home for more clothes or if he was busy with work. You knew he appreciated his space when he was working. 

As you sat on the subway, you tapped your foot to the beat of the music pumping in your headphones while considering what you would make for dinner tonight, what Harry would want to eat. You scrolled through Pinterest to form ideas. 

When you got to the lobby, the doorman greeted you as always. You had given Harry a key to your place ages ago, and in return, he added you to his “list”.

Harr lived in a very expensive Manhatten penthouse, and with its security and staff, you couldn’t enter without him. He didn’t really use a key because he had a private elevator. So instead, he registered you with the building so you could come and go as you please. 

When you exited the elevator you called out for him, but it seemed he wasn’t home. You dropped off your stuff and took shower. You loved his shower. The water pressure was amazing and the water never got cold.

As you stepped out you wrapped yourself in his robe and reapplied your makeup in the mirror. Your hair was still wrapped in product, being shaped just right, when you started getting dressed.

Harry still hadn’t texted you back but that wasn’t unheard of. He often got caught up in his work. You knew it could be stressful for him though and you wanted him to come back home to no worries. You put on his favourite lingerie set and one of his dress shirts. You twirled and posed in the mirror, feeling quite good about yourself. 

He would be home in about three hours which gave you time to make something for dessert too. You rummage around the fridge and decide on homemade gnocchi, served with a white cheese sauce, asparagus, and buttered scallops. For dessert, you think, a simple fruit tart.

You get to work juggling various doughs and many burners. When you had a minute, you set the table and picked out a red wine that you thought would pair well with the dish. You wanted to arrange flowers for the table, but unfortunately, you didn’t have any, and you didn’t want to risk losing time getting dressed and running down the block. 

The penthouse smelled fantastic, and you were proud of your work. You had been dancing around a playlist comprised of “American Standards”. Your hips swayed to the likes of Etta James, Nat King Cole, Bobby Darin, and Doris Day as you made sure everything looked perfect. You missed Harry today and hoped this would put him in a good mood. 

You heard your name being called into the space and your feet carried you to the source. Your smile was grand as you jumped onto your toes to throw your arms around his neck. You buried your face into him, conscious of your makeup. 

“Hey, Harr-Bear! I missed you!” His arms slowly wrapped around you, but the hold felt foreign. 

“Uh, yeah, me too.” He stepped away from you, and his brow furrowed as he looked you over.

“What are you wearing?” Your fingers fiddled with the hem of the shirt, suddenly feeling small. 

“I…I know you like it when I wear your clothes, and I- I just thought that maybe you had a hard day, so I wanted to- to surprise you.” Harry looked more than stressed, he looked scared. 

He opened his mouth a few times, but nothing came out. His hand came up to his hair as he looked around. 

“(Y/n), I need you to-”

The elevator door opened, and it was too late. The warning he tried to give you was futile as you saw an all too familiar face walk into the room. 

Oh shit.

His dad. 

He wore a smile you hesitate to call forced. To force a smile, you must put effort into it, but in Norman’s endless quest to evade age- death, really- he had gotten a lot of work done. This resulted in a permanent crooked smile, and brows that looked just a little too high. You had no issue with people getting cosmetic surgery; whatever makes you feel more comfortable, ya know?

But you did have a problem with Norman Osborn. And you had a huge issue with him seeing you in your current state. Panic. Full blown panic. All you can think is “hide!” So you do.

“The scallops!” You ran back to the kitchen as the smell of them roasting wafted through the air. 

As you hastily flip them, you look down at your “outfit”. The shirt you picked was thin, almost sheer, making the black set you wore underneath entirely obvious. You might as well be running around naked.

The only way to get to Harry’s room is to cross the living room and run up the stairs, but that means you would have to pass Norman, who is no doubt, doing his surveillance of Harry’s space- being sure to throw in as many passive aggressive comments about his son’s life and design choices. 

“Smells delicious in here. Did you cook, Harold?” You hate when he calls him that, and so does Harry. It’s just another reminder that he will never be his own achievements, only his name. 

You look across the stove. There isn’t enough there for three. You wished Harry had mentioned bringing his father back with him. You would have prepared better.

You considered, for a moment, ducking into the pantry and just waiting for him to leave. He would never need to know you were here. But he probably heard your exclamation and saw you run. Hiding wasn’t much of an option. 

“Oh, well hello (L/n).” You felt your blood run cold. 

Slowly you turned to see Norman just in the threshold of the kitchen. His forced smile is now a smirk that makes you nauseous as his eyes trail over your body. 

“Dr Osborn.” You try to sound respectful, but it comes out curter than you intended. 

Harry is standing behind him, always in his shadow. His eyes were wide, full of shock and horror. 

“Is that what you’re planning to wear for dinner?” He still had yet to make eye contact, and it took all of your strength not to curl up in a ball and hide from his gaze. 

“I-No, I uh. I’m sorry I wasn’t expecting you. I was just about to change, but I didn’t want anything to burn.” You try to smile as you start pulling things off the burners. 

“Harrold, man the stove so your girlfriend can change into something that doesn’t look like it was made for a costume in an adult film.”

Only then does Harry jump into action to save you. He awkwardly enters behind his father, who doesn’t move to let him by, and grabs the tongs from your hand.

Your feet carry you quickly across the polished hardwood, and once on the stairs, you can feel Norman’s eyes on you. You pull the shirt down, a feeble attempt to cover your ass, but it doesn’t do much. When you finally close the door behind you, you feel like crying. This was so humiliating. 

You hate Norman. He’s so gross and has no problem ogling you (in anything you wear) while talking down to you. He was never much of a fan of yours.

You didn’t come from money, going up poor in Brooklyn. You weren’t a super genius. You weren’t even interested in science. When you first met Harry, you didn’t even know who he was, but obviously, you only liked him for his money. Norman had more than once commented on the idea of a prenup. 

The first time Harry introduced you to his father, it felt more like an interrogation. He grilled you on your studies and your prospects, and your past. Any answer you gave left him with his scowl well in place. Harry didn’t offer much comfort, but you quickly realised that Norman also made Harry upset, just in a very different way.

He held a lot of contempt for his father. He told you about how he shipped him off for school and never reached out. He didn’t like him, that was for sure, but he ran the chequebook. He ran the business Harry thought was his birthright, but Norman is a calloused narcissist, and Harry knows if he pisses him off too much, he’ll give the company to someone else, just out of spite. 

You put on an agreeable dress Harry had bought for occasions such as these. Dating Harry came with its own culture, in a way. Most of it revolves around a walk-in closet. This was a casual dinner, but in respect for the calibre of the guest you have to dress up a bit. But not too much. Additionally, it's an evening affair, so a certain colour pallet is in order.

This was a black sundress from some Italian import you couldn’t pronounce. Dainty straps rested on your shoulders, and the hem fell just above your knees. It had a modest V cut, and Harry had instructed you to always wear it with jewellery lest you look bare. You selected a thin gold chain with a small heart pendant, a gift for your first anniversary, and subtle hoops to match. You threw half of your hair up in a clip, and slipped on some black heels to go with it, the stark red on the tread peeking out with every step you took. 

As you made your way back downstairs, they were deep in conversation. You nervously joined Harry’s side, and he wrapped an arm around your waist. Norman commented on how you “clean up nice,” and you had to swallow the bile creeping up your throat to thank him. 

Norman made a comment in regards to what a terrible host you were, “I’ve been here nearly thirty minutes, and no one’s offered me a drink.”

While he said “no one”, which could be either you or Harry, you knew he meant you. You hadn’t served him yet. Harry tenses at the comment, and you quickly try to correct the mistake. You step away to the bar cart to fix Norman a whiskey with one large ice cube and make the same for Harr. Only Harry thanks you as you bring them back.

You all move to the seating area as they continue to talk business. You learned very quickly that you were not allowed to chime in on these discussions. You nodded attentively and sat by Harry. After a bit, you suggested they sit at the table for dinner.

You nervously plate the gnocchi and scallops, deciding you will take significantly less than Norman and Harry. You can’t always make something later. You just have to survive this. 

You set the plates in front of them and grabbed the wine, knowing you were served last. As you poured Norman’s glass, he cleared his throat. You looked up, and he pointed at his plate with an unmistakably fake smile. 

“Is this pasta?” You slowly nodded your head.

“I have celiac. This will wreak havoc on my body.” Harry immediately started apologising, throwing you under the bus, as Norman “kindly” explained that he couldn’t have gluten. 

You gripped the wine bottle dangerously in your hands. “I can have a steak ready for you in ten minutes.”

That seemed to placate the man as you filled Harry’s glass and took his plate back to the kitchen. You turned on the oven and put in your serving of asparagus before pulling a steak out of the fridge.

You practised the breathing exercises your therapist had taught you while the steak seared. Honestly, it could be worse. At least being in the kitchen gave you time away. 

You nuked the plate you had taken from Norman and plated the steak, throwing on the asparagus and putting the sauce in a little bowl on the side.

You replaced Harry’s plate with the warm one and presented Norman with his. Then pour yourself a hearty glass of wine, ignoring Norman’s stare, before sitting down with your cold plate of gnocchi. 

They talked about their days, occasionally asking for comments from you. You tried your best to answer and pay attention, but all you could think about was how your homemade pasta was cold. About how this was supposed to be a pleasant night with Harry, and now, you were dealing with this.

Taglist: @andrews-lovr, @barbecuetiddy, @cherriescherriesred25, @heejinw0rld, @ilovemoonknight, @negasonic-teenage-asshole, @preciousbabypeter, @princesskittycatofmeowland, @purple-amaranthe, @raajali3

[izvmimi]

Matchlit - Chapter 5

cw: alcohol mention.

Masterlist

“Have you been able to reach June at all?” You ask, eyes fixed to the television screen as you try desperately to come up with a movie to watch that the three of you can actually agree upon. Lili is in the kitchen of your apartment and says something slightly unintelligible over the crackling of homemade popcorn and you shake your head.

“Never mind,” you whisper under your breath. Your stomach growls; you check the estimated time of arrival of your pizzas, and let out a frustrated sigh. Then, just as quickly, you chastise yourself, feeling shame at the irritability you’ve suddenly been letting set into your bones these past few days. You know all of it is for one silly reason, and you are deeply embarrassed that like a schoolgirl, you are stuck on one thing, a boy.

Lili arrives with three large bowls of popcorn balanced in her arms and sets them down on the coffee table, bending down to pick up the few stray kernels that roll off the mounds. You reach for a handful out of any one of the three, knowing that you’ll all end up serving yourselves from each other anyway. 

“Yeah, I don’t know why June isn’t responding but I’m going to assume she’s fine. It’s not like she’s been on patrol recently.”

“Yeah.”

Lili plops down on the seat next to you, folding her legs into a cross-legged position.

“Honestly, she’s probably asleep and forgot we were meeting this Friday.”

“I guess,” you sing, adjusting yourself a bit. You lean back into the sofa as well, and Lili tosses you the other end of the throw blanket. Like this you feel like you’re in high school again, even though you’re grown adults, having a sleepover while your heart secretly pines for the same boy since your days at UA. Perhaps you should say something to Lili, you think, but you can’t tell if she’ll admonish you or be just a little too supportive, especially given that you’re being actively avoided.

Don’t kiss and tell is the old adage anyway. At least not when everything is up in the air. 

Pizza arrives and between warm slices, you end up talking over the movie. Lili tells you about the patients she’s seen this week, including a little boy with a terrifying Quirk who was absolutely adorable once just a teensy bit sedated, and you tell her about your growing portfolio.

“Have you considered actually setting up an exhibition for once? Your stuff is too pretty not to share,” Lili encourages and again you come up with one or two reasons why it’s too much work, but part of you considers that it’s a welcome distraction from silly, inconsequential things like kissing and unrequited love.

“Maybe this time.”

Lili fake rolls her eyes but doesn’t press upon it. Soon another message pops up from June that shows the outside of a restaurant, and as both of you squint over the magnified photo on Lili’s phone, it’s clear that it’s one of the most expensive places in town.

“Todoroki,” the two of you say to each other in unison. 

Bring me a doggie bag, you type back to her. 

She sends a cheeky emoji and you shake your head. Lili sets down her third slice of pizza and sighs.

“Man, I feel so poor all of a sudden,” she says, forlornly. You laugh, and she laughs too, and it keeps the feeling that one of your longest, most confusing friendships might have finally come to a murky, nondescript end at bay. 

---

Katsuki hates being late, much more so when he knows his tardiness can be held against him, but Kasumi is poised and unaffected when he finally arrives and pulls out a gilded, high-backed chair, to sit across from her. She barely looks up at first, still looking at the waiter who is pouring out her favorite red wine, then acknowledges him politely with a glance through long, dark lashes. 

“Thank you for making it on such short notice,” she says evenly. Katsuki realizes he hates her voice, even though many would call her soft manner of speech elegant.

He doesn’t respond, instead pouring himself a glass of sparkling water from the bottle placed in the center of the table and throwing it back. She watches him as he swallows so intently, he wonders if she’s intrigued by the way his Adam’s apple bobs. 

“What did you call me here for?” he asks, now uncomfortable. This particular dining establishment is new to him and even the part of town is, and some of the table settings are overly elaborate to the point of being tacky.

In his humble opinion, at least.

Kasumi snorts in response to his gruff remark but somehow even that seems well-mannered. “To continue our conversation from last week.”

Katsuki glances at the menu, stomach growling, then looks back at her. 

“I’m not ready to announce our engagement.”

“Would you rather it be to your PR team before your friends?” Kasumi asks, before taking a sip of her wine. He feels a rock forming at the pit of his stomach as he thinks of how you’d feel hearing about his engagement on television before he got the chance to speak to you about it… or even face you again.

The waiter now addresses him and he’s thankful for the interruption, ordering the first entree that catches his interest. He responds with something in French which also manages to irritate Katsuki although he holds it in. His bad mood has nothing to do with the clientele.

“Give me until next week.”

Kasumi laughs, a musical sound that rivals the live violinist’s piece. Katsuki feels a headache coming on. 

“Why are you acting like this is a death sentence?” she says, leaning in.

Because it might as well be, he thinks, but doesn’t say. He’d rather die than tell you this news to your sweet, unsuspecting face.

“How close are all of you in the hero field?” Kasumi asks, only partially changing the subject as she reaches with finely manicured nails into the bowl of bread. Buttering a piece with a knife, painting it really, she again looks up at him waiting for his response and he can feel his neck turning warm. He wonders if that’s how she flirts, looking through those extra-dark lashes, keeping her voice soft, the movements of her graceful wrists appearing idle, but he is sure that she doesn’t like him, not one bit. She resembles a snake in the way she narrows her eyes at times, venomous in comparison to your earnest, honest nature.

“Turns out when you nearly get killed with all your classmates regularly you get pretty close,” Katsuki answers, matter-of-factly. He doesn’t reach for the bread basket, anticipating she’d try to ‘accidentally’ brush her soft hands against his.

“Who is your closest friend?” she asks.

“What’s with the direct questions?” Katsuki replies, immediately defensive. “We just met.”

Kasumi sighs.

“Is civil conversation so hard for you?”

Katsuki grumbles.The truth is he doesn’t have a good answer to that question. Kirishima probably, but also he acknowledges a strange bond with Izuku despite the fact that he annoys him, and then there’s you…

“Sir, your coq au vin?” your always just-in-time waiter responds. Bakugou’s ears redden as he hears the correct pronunciation. Turns out Cock-Oh-Vine is not exactly accurate, but if the waiter is making fun of him, Katsuki would not know from his professional, appropriately neutral expression. Kasumi on the other hand seems to read the sheepish look on Katsuki’s face, and it’s the first time he hears her real, genuine laugh.

---

By the time Kasumi makes it back to her penthouse hotel after her awkward, yet not catastrophic meeting with her husband-to-be, Hiriko is already sitting in her living room, in a bathrobe and Kasumi’s very own slippers, her eyes glued to a soap opera played at a volume louder than is acceptable for normal human ears. Kasumi can feel her blood pressure rise, but she holds a breath in, and greets her mother politely. 

Hiriko does not look up, unable to hear her daughter whose temporary home she’s invading, over the noise. Kasumi moves closer then taps Hiriko on the shoulder who jumps up nearly ten feet in the air before clutching her pearl necklace and calming herself down.

“Ah, it’s just you, darling!”

Kasumi considers reminding her that she lives there, not the other way around, but instead takes a seat next to her. 

“How was the dinner? I understand that he’s a tough nut to crack, however-”

“It was alright.”

Hiriko frowns, expecting more detail.

“That’s it?”

Kasumi cracks a half-smile. “Did you expect me to fall in love instantly, mother?” 

Hiriko scoffs. “At least try to love your husband.” Kasumi’s chest hurts at the very thought, but smiles sweetly. Hiriko takes a sip of now-cooled tea set on the glass table before her, then turns to her daughter again.

“Any useful information at least, then?” Hiriko asks.

“Yes,” Kasumi offers. She pulls her hair to the side and starts to braid the long tresses for sleep. “I think he’s in love with someone.”

Hiriko nearly spits down her drink.

“Ridiculous.”

Kasumi finishes the end of her braid before continuing while Hiriko waits for her patiently to keep speaking. Kasumi secretly loves when she’s quiet, holding her silence for just a few moments longer but then finally shares her observations.

“He has to be. I can tell.” 

Hiriko scoffs.

“Ridiculous. Mitsuki told me he had zero prospects.”

Kasumi rolls her eyes. “It seemed like Mitsuki would tell you anything you wanted to hear.”

Hiriko seems pleased by this statement although Kasumi does not mean it as praise. “That is true,” she replies haughtily. “However, you don’t have any proof.”

“The proof is the conversation I had with him. Why else would he be wanting to buy time?” If there is anything Kasumi has grown up knowing, it is that she is prime marriage material, even from a young age, whether she wanted this to be true or not. Money, brilliance, beauty so undeniable it could be a Quirk, you name it. She wouldn’t want to be so gauche as to call her station in life a curse, it had its advantages. Sometimes.

“Because men don’t like to be married,” Hiriko answers as if it is the wisest thing ever said. Kasumi says nothing but rises to her feet.

“Either way, it’s something to consider.”

Hiriko sets down her teacup just a touch too loudly and Kasumi winces.

“No, it truly isn’t. Whether he’s interested in someone or not, this arrangement has already been made.”

Kasumi can feel her pulse quicken again but she breathes in and breathes out and she’s normal again. Perfect.

“Sure. Anything you say, mother.”

---

With the three Heroes settled back into their normal routines in Tokyo, it turns out that not only is Katsuki tossing and turning in his sleep trying to figure out his life’s predicament, Izuku is too, overburdened by too much information and too many lines connected. Unfortunately for him, Lili can catch this immediately and sighs as she turns in bed, then looks directly at him.

“Tell me.”

If Izuku could freeze any more still, he’d turn into a block of ice.

“W-What do you mean?”

Lili tilts her head as though the question itself is somewhat silly, then moves closer to him, pressing her hand on his chest.. “What’s on your mind?”

Izuku shakes his head. “Nothing.”

“You’ve been sighing loudly since you came home, and you keep hitting me with the “oh, it’s nothing” and it’s been days .”

Izuku pauses, then smiles, gaze shifting to teasing. “I’m surprised you could notice anything else after how good I just-”

Lili narrows her eyes, and his smile fades. He twists his mouth to the side then looks to the wall. 

“I overheard something.” He finally admits. Lili shifts again, bending somewhat shaky knees to move closer to him and leans in as though he is about to whisper in her ear. And he does, even though no one else could possibly be in their bedroom.

Lili’s eyes grow wide as Izuku shares his information.

“No way,” she starts first, shaking her head. “There is no way that guy is hiding someone after all this time… first of all, who would even…” her voice trails off, and she deviates. “___ is gonna be crushed.”

Izuku’s eyebrows furrow. “Obviously, don’t tell her!”

Lili frowns, and opens her mouth to protest, but realizes she has very little information to go on. Instead she takes to biting her thumbnail, and Izuku mirrors her as though it isn’t a habit she picked up from him, and the two of them lay together in silence.

“Fine. I’ll keep it a secret.”

It doesn’t mean she won’t go on an investigation of her own.

[jbankai89]

Dream Daddy Sneak Peek #5

The last time Finn had been in the Silver Hills area, he'd been about thirteen years old.

Admittedly, he couldn't remember why they'd been there—some function or another at one of the big fancy houses, where Finn slipped off with his friends to swipe glasses of champagne and raise merry hell until they were caught and marched back to the party by some very angry adults.

In the daytime, with a gorgeous older man at his side and no pressure to 'act straight', it compounded into a freeing sort of experience. Nomad bounded ahead of them on his leash while he enthusiastically sniffed everything he could reach. Whenever someone passed by them, all Vance had to do was let out one high whistle and Nomad slowed down until he was walking right at Vance's side in the most perfect heel position that Finn had ever seen.

It was honestly amazing how well-behaved the big dog was, and Finn felt like a dog that well-behaved was restricted to the realm of TV, but clearly he'd been wrong about that.

“Is it normally you who walks your dog?” Finn asked curiously after a few moments of silence, and Vance blinked, seemingly startled by the question.

“Uh, yeah,” Vance replied, and he laughed awkwardly at the question. “Who else would do it?”

“I dunno, a dog walker?” Finn asked, then smirked wryly at the older man. “What, can't afford one?”

In another scenario, Finn never would have dared to speak in such a way to his employer—he'd be too petrified of being fired to say something like that.

However, with Vance Finn felt safe. Like he could tell him to go fuck a goat and Vance wouldn't get mad about it.

True to form, Vance laughed warmly at Finn's remark, his delicious upper body jerking sideways a little in a manner that made Finn think that Vance wanted to touch him, but stopped himself at the last minute. It was a real shame, as Finn loved the idea of folding himself into the man's warm embrace, but after their talk at dinner, where Finn had been gifted with the most ridiculous suit and the most delectable food, and Vance had promised not to do anything that would make Finn uncomfortable, it seemed like that wasn't likely to happen any time soon.

Admittedly, Finn kind of wished that Vance was a bit looser with his morals. Finn knew that he wouldn't protest if Vance broke one, or two—or, hell, all of the rules in that employment contract, and just fucked him into those beautiful thousand-million-however-many-thread-count sheets in his bedroom.

Check me out on Patreon to find out what happens next!

[sherwoodknights]

SP 1999 EPISODE 2 LIVEBLOG

Who is the man throwing confetti out of the window at percy lmao what a mood

Girl what is this dancing it is so unhinged

Emilia fox what are you doing here and how has your hair changed so drastically

She's gaslighting gatekeepers and girbossing all over the place and love that

TONY YOU SWEET BOY YOU GO GET THAT BATH ACTION

Marguerite in Paris what sins will she commit

That didn't work very well did it

Chavelin you are being very suspicious what do you know

You tell him babygirl

I know it's something of a cover but that coat is pretty fabulous

THE WHOLE WORLD CAN NOW SEE THAT TOMY DEWHURST GOT BITCHES

ROBESPIERRE AND HIS GUILLOTINE COAT BUTTONS AKSNEKEKSNDJKDD

EMILIA FOX WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE AND WHY DOES IT LOOK LIKE YOU'RE FLIRTING WITH CHAUVELIN

Andrew and Tony being Sneaky Boys™️ is amazing

"SHUFFLE-ON" AKSNDKWNDKD

THE CHAIR THROUGH THE WINDOW TO ESCAPE WAS SO DRAMATIC

TONY NO HOW COULD THEY

DONT KICK HIM YOU BASTARD YOUVE JUST SHOT HIM HASNT HE SUFFERED ENOUGH

Percy riding past on Chavvys horse

WHAT THE FUCKKKKKKKK

HE JUST SHOT TONY IN THE FUCKING HEAD IN THE MIDDLE OF THE STREET :((((((

MARTIN SHAW AS CHAUVELIN YOU WILL NEVER BE FORGIVEN FOR THIS

YEAH HE KNEW THE RISKS PERCY BUT DOESNT MEAN HIM GETTING FUCKING SHOT IN THE HEAD IS OKAY

Chauvelin you have kicked enough people while they're down today you do not have to be mean to Marguerite

Chauvvy you slimy fuck go away leave my beloved St Justs alone

Secret escape tunnels for the win

Percy leaving sassy notes is amazing

EMILIA FOX WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE AND WHY ARE YOU IN BED WITH CHAUVELIN

Tbh I wouldn't be able to look away from Emilia Fox either

This poor prison governer can't catch a break

The league are hot when they're threatening people with guns

ARMANDDDDDD :DDDDD HES SAFE :DDDDD

Oh no percy may be a little bit fucked

PERCY AND MARGUERITE REUNION <333333

SWEET BABEYS

Bro you aren't even gonna untie his hands when you want him to write you a list? Fuckin dumbasses

Percy just casually having 5 different secret compartments in a single shoe

DID HE JUST SNAP A MAN'S NECK?

Uh oh that is a rather large mob of angry French people

Well this didn't happen in the books

The body count on this series must be insane

Marguerite on trial what sins did she commit?

EMILIA FOX WHY MUST YOU BE EVIL AND DENOUNCE MARGUERITE AND LOOK HOT WHILE YOU DO IT

Chauvelin stop slut shaming your mistress that's not very progressive of you

Robespierre balancing his glasses on top of his wig ajdbdjdjdjekwkw

Marguerite kinda slaying the short hair honestly

THAT GIRL LOOKS 12 YEARS OLD DONT YOU DARE PUT HER NEAR A GUILLOTINE

Richard E Grant looks hot being shoved against a wall during the sword fight honestly

NOOOOOO HE KILLED EMILIA FOX

LETS GO BOAT SEX

And that's the opening 2 parter of the series finished!!! So far I'm having a lot of fun with the series, distraught about some of the characters we've lost so soon but hoping that we'll get some fun new ones in the next few episodes