#yeah it only took three decades to realize that they were boyfriends

[truly-sincerely]

Vibrating into a neighboring plane of existence because I figured out how to make my boys work in BDS, like, my original boys, and I've figured out more about West in the last couple of days putting him in relevant Scenarios™ than in the last almost 30 years probably

[queers-gambit]

I Solemnly Swear That I Am Up To No Good

prompt: ( requested ) basking in the sunshine, breathing fresh air, bare skin tickled by tall grass, and Felix, who can't focus on the Half Blood Prince when his girl's got his full blooded attention.

pairing: Felix Catton x female!reader

fandom masterlist: Saltburn

word count: 2.3k+

note: i wrote this in an hour 'cause, you know, brainrot.

warnings: slight request variation (you'll see), there's probably cursing. anyways, suggestive language, no real spoilers, slight Ollie slander, college kids doing drugs, and no HP spoilers for those who haven't read.

All you could smell was his expensive cologne, barely breaking a sweat under the summer sun as he remained wrapped around you like a child did their mother on the first day of school. You were never one for suffocating affection nor clingy behavior, something leftover from childhood, but with your boyfriend, you craved it; and he knew it. He took advantage of it.

"Are you even listening or are you too busy trying to identify the smell of my shampoo?"

"Hmm? Yeah, yeah, 'M listenin', love, uh, you know, something about... Harry doing something stupid, yeah?"

You snorted lightly, head tilting back to look up at your boyfriend's amused expression. "A lucky guess - 'cause Harry's always doing some dumb shit."

"Yeah, you know, there's a reason he wasn't considered for Ravenclaw."

"Don't be mean, we all have our strengths and weaknesses," you gently reprimanded. "So he's not the smartest guy ever, but he's brave as hell, isn't he?"

"Has to be, being a Gryffindor and all."

"I doubt we would've done half this shit at 16."

"Totally right, we had other worries - like our first pregnancy scare."

"Felix!"

"What, doll face? Huh? C'mon, what's the quote? I solemnly swear that I am up to no good!"

"Oh, you absolute cheesy fuck!"

His laugh could've echoed across the field, the two of you laid out on an oversized blanket; crushing the long grass surrounding his home, Saltburn. 'Home' always felt so mundane when describing the freaking castle his family inhabited; after all, his father, Sir James, was literally knighted - making the Cattons feel larger than life. You'd known the family for over a decade now, meeting Venetia on your first day of school when a rude boy smacked your lunch tray right out of your hands, being inducted to their family almost straight away.

As it turned out, your mother and father were friendly with Sir James and his wife, Elspeth Catton, and after only a month in your new town, you were invited to Saltburn for a family meal.

It became a monthly occurrence.

And when you started dating Felix when you were both 15, it was like life was simply alining with the stars. Destiny being fulfilled. Fate smiling on you both.

Your parents tried to play off the relationship, but after you turned 16, they realized how serious you two seemed about each other. And when you both decided to attend Oxford together (rejecting your father's alma mater, the University of Edinburgh), your mother made constant jibes about your wedding. At first, it was just a few, little, sometimes funny, but mostly harmless comments here and there, and then it escalated to full-on conversations between your mothers.

Like they had flowers and color scheme picked out, deciding on hosting at Saltburn, even debating wedding dress ideas! Your mother wanted something lacy, Elspeth wanted something form fitting and "sexy" - being where their opinions clashed and the conversation elevated to near arguments.

Anyways, laying on the blanket in the field, alone, became a regular occurrence for you and Felix once you realized the absolute HOLD the Harry Potter series had on you both. Where the brother and sister had matching HP star tattoos on their hands, that had convinced you to get a set of three stars - your only tattoo, nestled behind your left ear. Venetia technically got you into the series, letting you borrow the first book, and then gifting you each book once published; but it was more like a "tradition" to read them with Felix.

See, when you were younger, you had a stutter that made you wildly insecure, but reading out loud helped you work through it. Was it a perfect system? Of course not, but your boyfriend was adamant that it'd help - and eventually, it did. So much so, you received top marks in each of your public speaking or debate classes, something the Catton's still praised you over.

Felix liked listening, and the times you got a little tongue-tied and frustrated, he would take over to let you a small reprieve. Today was no different, laid in the field, the grass tickling your bare feet and calves as the sun soaked into your bare skin. Either of you only wore a pair of sunglasses, Felix sat up on his elbow to support your body laid against his; his fingers dancing light patterns over whatever body part he could reach. Currently, it was your hip.

He laid quick kisses where he could, whispered sweet nothings in your ear, used his teeth to nibble your flesh. Anything to make you trip over your words, like the little shit he was.

You felt your breathing shift when Felix's lips and tongue ghosted up your neck, sweeping stray strands of hair from your shoulder before his fingertips were ghosting over your collarbone and down your chest to tweak your nipple. The cold of his bracelets and watch on your sticky skin felt like a drastic contrast to the warmth of the day.

"You're infuriating, I'm trying to read," you scolded, swatting his hand away; but smirking in amusement that assured him you weren't truly annoyed.

"Roll over, sweetheart, I needa rest my arm," he muttered in your ear, licking the shell - making you squirm with a small giggle.

"Can you behave? For once?"

"How can I? When you look like this? I mean, Goddamn, I really got the prettiest girl, don't I?" He smirked, watching you lift off his chest to roll onto your stomach; perched on your elbows. "Now, that's a sight, might be my favorite," he grinned, bringing his hand down to smack one of your arse cheeks - palming the flesh tightly, giving a jiggle for his amusement.

"Felix!" You squealed, fully anticipating this treatment; trying to hide your full-teeth grin.

"C'mon, love, let's get a bit naughty," he teased. "Oliver doesn't get here for another two days, we're not gonna be alone much longer."

You scoffed lightly, "You're the one who had to befriend The Clinger."

"Oi, c'mon now, tellin' me t'be nice about Harry? Don't call him that, love, he's just a lonely chap. Needs a friend."

You hummed, readjusting the book under you. "He's a bit creepy, Fi," you admit. "I mean, he stares - like a lot. And remember I told you, I saw him looking through your dorm window that one night?"

He sighed, "He was just drunk, love, we've been over this."

"You're so quick to excuse him," you noted, offering him a bewildered look as he readjusted to lean over your back. His head nuzzled between your shoulder blades, letting a hand pet down the slope of your spine; forcing a small tremor through your muscles.

"He's got no one else."

"Doesn't mean he needs you, my sweet boy. Honestly, you stretch yourself too thin. Maybe if you focused less on these so-called friends and more on your studies...?"

"I appreciate the worry, babygirl," he mused, laying three kisses to your shoulders, "but it's all right, got you quizzing me nightly. Swear, you know my coursework better than I do. And besides, you're the one who says there's no such thing as too many friends."

"Hm," you let your eyes roll slightly, "I was obviously high when I said that and probably didn't mean bloody Oliver."

"Speaking of," he grinned, reaching for the rucksack he brought with you; now hosting your clothes, but also carrying the Altoid tin he used to store pre-rolled joints.

"Are you even listening to the story anymore, baby?"

"Of course I am, toots, I can multi-task." You hummed in response, waiting for him to finish lighting up before continuing onto a new paragraph; feeling him shift on your back. But you faltered when smoke blew against your cheek, Felix's lips descending a moment later to noisily smooch your skin. "You're so fucking pretty," he mumbled.

"I think you have ADHD."

"We knew that."

"Maybe you need something for that."

"Because I'm not listening to Harry Potter?"

"I knew it!" You laughed, shivering again when his free hand drew up your spine to nestle in your hair; handing you the joint with the other. "Fi, you're still distracting me," you moaned slightly, leaning your head back into his touch - contradicting your own words.

"You're doin' great, love," he grinned, licking the skin behind your ear, at your tattoo. "Keep goin', c'mon, I wanna hear what happens next."

"You're gonna reread this chapter when I go to bed, aren't you?"

Felix paused, "Maybe."

You grunted, dropping your head to the book before lifting it again and taking an inhale from the joint. Felix grinned at you in mischief, rolling over onto his back; hand behind his head as he stared up at you. You shook your head at him, handing the joint over before shuffling so you were laid on his chest with the book spread open in one hand.

"Love?" He mumbled.

"Hmm?" You glanced at him.

"Maybe... Uh, yeah, maybe start the chapter over? I'm a bit lost," he snickered, coughing when you tisked at him and offered a slightly annoyed look. "C'mon, baby, you can't tell me you were totally focused, either! You love me touching you, I can see it on your face."

To prove his point, the arm he had wrapped around you drifted to, once more, take a handful of your ample bottom - causing you to gasp slightly.

But you pouted, "I kinda want to finish this chapter, baby."

"And I'm distracting you?"

"Obviously."

Felix laughed, "Spot on Professor Snape, baby."

"If I read like Snape the rest of the chapter, will you pay attention to me?"

"You know what? I don't know, that voice is kinda a turn on... Everything you do is a turn on, doll."

"You'd think the consistent fucking we do would rein in your hormones."

"Nah," he tutted, squeezing his hand, "not when I got a girl like you, gettin' me all riled up. I mean, Half-Blood Prince, who? Got me full blooded, right here." You chuckled when he glanced at his cock, folding the book closed and deflating onto his chest and accepting the joint again. "Oh, c'mon, don't stop, 's just gettin' good!"

"You were calling Harry stupid literally 5 minutes ago."

"Come off it, when isn't he?"

"When he's fighting Voldemort?"

"Hm," he considered, tucking his hand into your hair to massage your scalp; gently pulling through your hair. "You might have a point."

"And now Dumbledore's - "

"Hey, hey, no spoilers!"

"It's not a spoiler if you were listening to me!"

"I'm always listening," he whined, you blowing smoke across his abdomen; watching his abs contract from the slight tickle; his cock bobbing from the movement and making you flush with heat not from the sun. "You're just so much more interesting, hmm?" He mumbled.

"Hey, hey. Flattery gets you everywhere with me," you teased, loving the easiness of his smile. "C'mon, pretty boy, your turn."

He took the joint from you, watching you try to pull back - but tightening his arm. "Stay here, love havin' you close," he mumbled, placing the joint to his mouth and reaching for the book again. Not wanting his arm to retract from your form, you reached up to take the joint from him; listening as he went back to the beginning of the chapter while your leg hiked up his hips.

Every other puff, you fed Felix the joint until there was nothing left; wee small roach being stubbed out in the dirt, leaving you two relaxed, high, and laid over one another as he continued to lazily read. But his hand still traced invisible patterns over your skin, the warmth of the sun making you sweat, but the way your boyfriend touched you made you shiver.

He knew you loved it, yet didn't so much as stutter on a single word when his smirk would grow feeling your reactions to his touches.

At the end of the chapter, he glanced down at you and let his lips follow; tightening his arm to bring you in closer, leaving repeated kisses on your forehead. You squirmed closer, giggling and bringing your hand up to hook around the back of his neck, directing him to your lips as he rolled over so you were on your back and he was hovering over you. "You're distracting me, now, li'l minx," he teased.

"Oh, how unfair, what ever shall you do?"

He chuckled, pecking your lips twice more, then asking, "Another chapter or...?"

"Yes, one more chapter," you laughed, "but then we're gonna have to head back up, your mum wanted my help with something."

"Oh, she's got you some new dresses she wants you to try," he relaid.

"I thought she stopped doin' that?"

"She loves spoiling you," Felix eased. "And Venetia stopped letting Mum dress her, so, you know... Here, you read this one."

You agreed, letting him readjust so he was sat up again, keeping you between his spread legs so he could peer down at the book from over your shoulder. Was it distracting, feeling his fully blooded cock at your back? Absolutely. Was it mildly erotic for you to ignore it and continue reading - as if his warmth wasn't making you wet? Also, yes.

"Fi," you whispered when his lips danced across your shoulder. "Distracting me, again," you half-scolded.

"You're doin' great, love," he chuckled.

But he didn't stop, it was like he was turning himself on (more) by his soft, gentle touches; and being spurred onward when he noted the way your chest heaved when your breath changed.

"Keep goin'," he whispered in your ear, dragging his hands up to cup either bare breast and swipe his thumbs around your nipples to stiffen them into peaks.

"Felix - "

"Don't stop," he encouraged, "'s real endearing the way you're tryna fight this."

"You try to get between me and Potter one more time, we're going on a sex strike."

There was a pause as you looked up at him, both sharing growing grins before bursting into echoing laughter that Venetia heard from one of the loungers close to the house. She grinned to herself, turning the page of her own Half-Blood Prince book.

requesting rules and masterlist

Saltburn masterlist

[themotherofblood]

Want A Drink?

Vampire!Daemon x Reader x Vampire!Rhaenyra

masterlist | Bloody Baby Series | Vampire AU

synopsis: Rhaenyra finds a doe eyed thing for her and Daemon to drink from, however she has a bad habit of playing with food.

warnings: dub-con? Kinda non-con? Feeding, blood drinking. threesome, oral (F), riding, compulsion.

a/n: I will take requests for this series :)

A masterful event, truly. The rooms of this old castle filled with enough free booze, loosened inhibitions and stumbling younglings draped in what they would consider cool clothing. This was a rather fun way to hunt, the days of random strangers in the forests had long dwindled decades before, this, this was chique - a classic way of finding a pretty someone to feed on and a hell of an excuse for party.

Rhaenyra, leaned against one of the many high tables, her senses working to find the one, if there was one. She shook her head, watching Daemon stumble and dance along with one the many girls that were fawning over him. Even with the wedding band glinting on his ring finger, these young broads didn’t care. Hands in the air as he moved to the beats - if only they knew what he was.

You tore through the thick crowd, all smiles and huffs as you came to rest your head on the table Rhaenyra stood by. The air so thick within, you needed to pull away for a minute. The smell even beyond the sweat and the booze, she could smell you. Even more so hear the running blood under your skin, lavender? No jasmine, that’s what you smelled of. You took deep breaths, trying to find air within the thick ambience of this room. You couldn’t - tequila, it had to be the tequila making you feel this way.

“You doing alright, love?” Rhaenyra’s voice boomed over the music in front of you.

You looked up, confused and a little dazed. Gosh, she’s so pretty you thought dumbfounded “I- yeah, it’s hot in here,” you replied, you looked up once more trying to breathe through your mouth this time as you lift your hair in your palm to ease away the heat.

“Come with me,” this time you hadn’t realized that she came to stand next to you, her frame towering over your as you came to stand straight. You looked back to where your friend was dancing with her boyfriend, just go, you nodded, taking her hand as she led you outside the grand room.

You mindlessly followed her, such naivety - crawling along with her to the monster’s den. She led you to a balcony, the crisp air of the night prickling goosebumps against your skin as you took yet another deep breath before your lungs fully let your chest to clear. You leaned against the balcony columns. Below in the courtyard, people stumbled over to trimmed shrubs, chatters and giggles echoed with the muffled thud of the music with every door opening and closing.

You giggled, shaking your head as it turned to chuckle. You had forgotten about the pretty woman still standing against the other column. She looked at you quizzically, what sweet sounds the corners of her lips up turned, wondering what intoxicated thought had you musing so. “What’s so funny?”

“This palace,” you coughed to halt your giggles “whatever fat lord had this made, I doubt he envisioned rowdy peasants fornicating in its bushes.” you laughed one more, pressing a hand to your belly.

“I’m sure he had many debauched plans, sweetheart.” Rhaenyra smiled, this time approaching you. Her little words of endearment didn’t go amiss as your cheeks flushed.

“He had three wives,” you blurted, the only thing you could do under the intimidating gaze of her purple contacts.

Rhaenyra’s brows waggled, she looked curious, a little knowing. “history student, are you?” She tucked a piece of your loose hair behind you ear.

“Hobby really,” you shook your head, feeling sandwiched between the marble column and this - this angelic lady dressed in maroon.

“What else do you know,” she whispered, her thumb still grazing over your cheek.

“There lived a Queen here, once, with her husband and his three wives,” your breath hitched as she grew closer “he died for her and she died in grief.”

“How terrible,” Rhaenyra murmured, you’re so pretty your mind began to scream so loudly that your actually said it. She pulled back looking amused, her thank you?

She finally closed the space between the two of you, one hand snaking around the small of your waist as the other held you cheek. The smell of vanilla and wood was hit against your nose as her lips moulded against yours. You squeaked into the kiss, frozen for a moment until you gave in. Letting her lips melt your to putty in her hands as she explored your mouth. Breathe, breathe - so overwhelming as you gasped breaths of air within the short pause.

“Enjoying without me, my love?” A man’s voice tore you away from the daze Rhaenyra was lulling you into.

A man with silver hair stood leaning against the glass paned balcony door, his cream shirt unbutton to his sternum, “Isn’t she just a beauty, Daemon,” Rhaenyra chides, before pecking your lips once more.

You looked between both of them confused, were you a home wrecker now? “I’m sorry- I- I didn’t know you were married,” you said eyeing the ring on the woman’s finger.

“Shh- sh It’s alright, Daemon doesn’t mind. Do you honey?” She began nipping at the expanse of your neck.

“My…you really are pretty,” Daemon said approaching you. Your mind seemed to have been in a trance, the way they looked at you, smelled, the hold of their fingers in each wrist.

“You are going to be a good girl for us, aren’t you?” Daemon asked, his thumb grazing your lip. it felt like a demand, your on consciousness slipping. You nodded, letting his thumb push in as your suckled around it.

You were in and out after that, but mostly you were warm. So very warm, perhaps it was the giant fireplace in their bedroom, the only warm yellow light of the room. There were spurts your remembered.

“Such a good girl,” Rhaenyra moaned as you kneeled between her legs, lapping away at her cunt with your nose pressed up against her clit as she rolled her hips against your tongue “just like that.” Daemon’s grip on your hair was tight as he kept your face against his wife’s pussy, admiring the scrunched look on her face you licked away at her needy bundle of nerves.

The mere moments of lucidity passed once more as your mind dwindled to the warmth, the next you were straddled and Daemon’s hip. His cock deep within you as you rolled your hip and bounced on his cock, “can we keep her? I want to keep her?” Daemon groaned, feeling the vice grip of your cunt milking him.

“Hmm, she would make a fine pet. Look at her.” Rhaenyra whispered from behind you, she hands pinching and rolling your nipples in between her finger as you pleasures her husband.

You felt her pressing kisses onto your neck as you weight fell back against her, exhausted and wanting as Daemon yet agains began rubbing your clit, hood pulled back as he flicked against the reddened bud. You felt a sharp graze, maybe the woman’s fingernails. You whimpered, dazed as your felt the warmth in your belly stir, you were close and all three of you knew it. Daemon thrusted his hips upwards, his fingers unrelenting as you played with your bundle of nerves “that’s it darling, come for him.”

Rhaenyra sounded desperate, her eyes blown as she watched Daemon face scrunch up. She was hungry, she wanted to taste you against the blood rush. You squealed once more, a moan stuck at the back of your throat and Rhaenyra gave in. Sinking her fangs into your jugular and moaning when the thick crimson liquid hit her tongue. Blood dripped from the opened wound down your torso as you thrashed against their tight holding. The initial scream still ringing in your ears as you felt Daemon’s tongue flatten on your sternum and lick up the dripping blood. The fear has blown your eyes wide, tears polling around them.

Your heart thudding as you tried to fight against them, barely making any headway “Shh- you’re alright,” Daemon wiped at your tears, his eyes dilated and then calm, your heart was no longer thudding “you are safe.”

“I am safe,” you mumbled as Daemon lifted your wrist to his mouth before he too sunk his teeth in deep.

When you woke up next morning, messed hair and aching in a soft (too soft) bed, one unlikely to be yours. You groaned pulling yourself up, a gentle sting running down your body as you took in the silk pink nightgown your body was dressed in. Your mind wavered for moment until it focused in on their faces, the silver woman and her husband Da- Daemon. Your friends would surely freak out when they find out you fucked two people in one night. Your fingers grazed at your lip and then it all came crashing back.

Teeth, your neck. The bandaging on your wrists, heart thudding against your heart, praying that perhaps it had been a bad dream. You stopped at the giant body length mirror, multiple bite marks down your thighs and legs. One on each side of your neck, what the fuck, you winced ripping the bandage from your wrists. Yellowing bruise and two distinct wounds sunken into you skin, still bleeding. You had to get out of here, you had no idea where your phone or your clothes were but all you did was run.

Rhaenyra and Daemon sat in their dinning room, the cleaners already having returned their palace to its pristine nature. They looked rather pleased with themselves and the events that took place last night. “We should have dried her out,” Daemon groaned, eyes fixated on his glass of scotch.

“We should have,” Rhaenyra agreed, “we could just keep her.” she repeated Daemon’s words from the night before. It had been nearly a century since they shared a companion together. The end wasn’t so pretty for the last one but perhaps this time it would be different, Rhaenyra had become far more capable at curbing her blood thirst.

Daemon dryly chuckled “What? Should we just ask her to be our human blood bag?” A stale joke since they had much other plans to be within your company. You were far too warm, to sweet to let go. “Looks like Ms Blood bag is awake.” Daemon notes the distinct sound of footsteps hurrying along the grand staircase. He downed his cup of scotch before signing.

You were running, unsure which way to go at first but the hallways were organized enough to lead your straight to the enterance. Barefoot and naked another this flimsy night gown, you didn’t care you just ran. Just as you were about to reach the main door and push past it. You crashed into a hard body, stood looking unimpressed at your little attempt at escape. You screamed as he held onto you.

“No! No no- please let me go.” You yelled “Let me go!”

Daemon just stood there, hoping your outburst would heel on it’s on, unwanting to compel you once more. He needed the fear to subside on its on. Rhaenyra walked along calmly from the dinning room to the enterance, watching your frame thrash as your screams echoed through the palace. Daemon sunk to the floor, trying to shush you but looking extremely irk. Rhaenyra bent to your level as she pushed your hair away from your face. She too didn’t want to compel this away.

“Please, please don’t kill me,” you begged “I’ve barely lived.” Tears fell past your eyes that she wiped away.

“We don’t want to kill you, darling.” She hummed.

“No?” You whimpered, confused at her soft demeanour.

“We want you to be ours.”

I’m thinking of making this a Dark! AU, like eventual Stockholm Syndrome kicks in vibes and maybe she is actually happy. I will take requests for this AU right now. So if you have any ideas with Ms Blood Bag and Daemyra don’t me afraid to send a request ;)

Comments and reblogs are highly appreciated :)

[acowardinmordor]

Contractual Obligation

The plan went perfectly, is the thing. TMZ got the scoop, Tiktok had hundreds of reaction videos in the first few hours. They were trending on Twitter. Which was good. Steve would get his pay day, Eddie would get past the rumors and back to the good press, back to the path towards platinum records. According to the plan, Eddie would even have new ideas and inspiration for his next album.

It was only five months. Long enough for the gossips to pick it up, long enough to be a big deal, not long enough that anyone would expect Eddie to be too broken up about it.

Steve torched all his social media accounts a few hours after TMZ posted the story. He had to. The handful of messages and notifications he saw while deleting it all made his stomach flip. Once it calmed down a bit, he might make anonymous accounts again, if only so he could follow the kids and see the weird pictures of Robin's travels. Not with his own face though. Part of the agreement. Steve Harrington wasn't going to exist online as himself for a minimum of three years. That would keep anyone noticing that he got paid. It would also keep Steve from being torn apart by Eddie's fans.

It wasn't like he had to worry about money for a while. That was why he signed the contract with the PR firm. They needed to erase the memory of his slut era - capped off with photos of Eddie in a decadent orgy - show that Eddie Munson was capable of a committed relationship, and then get him single again. His sales were better when he was single, and being seen on celebrity dates was great for PR. They needed someone to play a part to make the change.

Steve's dad hadn't cut him off or thrown him out for being queer, or for how he got GNC when the mood struck. No, Richard Harrington was a proud liberal supporter, and didn't give a damn about any of that. But Steve flunked out of his degree in business at Richard's alma mater, and that was unforgivable.

So he was working days at an amazon warehouse, and overnight at a 24 hour diner in Chicago, because he needed money to keep his crappy studio. The PR team found him at the diner. Steve accepted the job and the contract without knowing who the hell Eddie Munson was. It was that much money. Steve really should have thought through the final phase of the contract before he signed. But it was almost a quarter million dollars for just under five months of work. "Work". Five months of dating a guy who permanently altered Steve's brain chemistry with his first smile.

Steve knew this was his fault. How he felt was his own fault. He wanted the money so he took the job, and he agreed to the terms. He went in with open eyes. Eddie didn't know Steve wasn't a genuine relationship. A real moment of serendipity that put them in the same place. Didn't know there was an end date inked and signed before they ever met. Steve agreed to this stupid fucking job because his parents cut him off and he wasn't used to having to budget for food and use coupons and hunt for deals to get phone service.

He may have flunked out in his junior year, but he was a business major. Steve read the contract and knew there was no getting around the financial penalty if he broke the terms. Seven fold repayment. How biblical of them.

He wasn't stupid. Eddie had the cash to cover the contract breach. And the inevitable court case over it. But Steve was stupid, and when he signed, he'd thought it wouldn't matter to either of them. Then Steve realized it mattered to him, but thought Eddie would be fine. He was a rockstar. Surrounded by friends. Endlessly laughing and happy. Eddie would get over Steve quick. It was just a couple months with some broke college drop out.

Then he saw Eddie's face three days ago when the rockstar found his boyfriend in bed with two models.

So yeah, Eddie had the cash, and maybe if Steve had told him from the start, he would have spent it, but now? Eddie didn't have a poker face. He walked into the scene set up by the PR team - Steve in bed with two peppy blonde models after standing Eddie up on a date - and Steve knew there was no way Eddie would cover anything. The truth could have helped early. Now that it was done? Telling Eddie the truth would only hurt him more.

All the stories were on Eddie's side. The firm made sure of that. Photos were already being 'found' by the gossip sites. Steve had been 'cheating' for weeks. Really had fucked both women that night to satisfy contractual obligation and to make sure Steve knew there was no fixing it. Steve had his fifteen minutes of fame, and the thing he'd be known for forever, was the guy who cheated on Eddie Munson.

His phone pinged with a message from one of the only two numbers saved to it. The way his chest soared and sank in the moment before his brain caught up was awful. Hope and fear, neither of which made sense.

Steve had deleted all of his socials. The PR firm had taken his old phone and disconnected the number. Now he had a brand new samsung, with one contact for the PR agent, and one for Robin. One was a threat, the other was a lifeline.

Robin's message was a calendar with her locations for the next month, and a link to AirFrance. It was a good idea. She was absolutely furious with him, and had been since he told her about the contract a month ago. She was still his best friend. Eddie was famous, but mostly an American celebrity. Steve could be a no one easier in Europe.

His phone, the one he handed over, had hundreds of contacts and thousands of messages and conversations across apps. Hundreds of photos of him and Eddie. Messages and voicemails and stupid jokes and memes.

This one had the default background, the default apps, and a single conversation in the messages. Robin was going to scream at him when she saw him, but she'd give him a hug first.

That was a better choice than sitting in the dark in his new apartment, which was too big, and too nice for crappy stuff they'd moved from his studio. He tapped the link she sent, and started looking for the first available flight.

[parkeryangs]

in my heart matt woe.begone has such a weird relationship to identity/gender;

yeah, he's gay, he's been gay and everybody else knew it before he even knew what the word meant. that was fine—it meant there were no "surprises" when he came out in middle school, and his family, despite being religious, loved him the same as they always had.

he was the only queer kid in his backwater town but that was fine, too, he wasn't all that set on dating as it was. then he went to college and met mike and anne and the reat of their friends and his worldview was shattered; for the better, undeniably, but it left him reevaluating everything he'd taken as truth for the last decade.

anne was trans and so was mike's shitty boyfriend he'd had since high school, and matt sat next to someone in his history lecture that used they/them pronouns and it was all new and a bit terrifying, but he did his best to be respectful and learn whatever he could, turning to the internet for things he didn't want to bother his friends with.

it was scary because it felt familiar; the disconnect anne casually mentioned or the flash of something like jealousy following her thrill at passing in public when they took a trip to the mall—and, in leaps and bounds, matt realized he wanted that too. it wasn't an easy realization; he was fine with his identity the way it was, the way it had been, and any change felt like it might tear the world apart if he didn't tread carefully.

after class one day, he caught his history classmate by the shoulder and spoke in a rush. their name was felix and they studied biomedical science and they said hi to matt three times a week and they listened now as he spilled his guts and then some. i don't know who i am anymore and i'm scared, felix, what am i supposed to do. please tell me there's a right answer. it was a lot to unpack standing in the rundown history department, so, after a gentle suggestion from felix, they went to the coffee shop on campus and talked at a too-small table over half-cold coffee. it became a weekly ritual for them, every wednesday afternoon, like clockwork. felix jokingly called it gender therapy, once, which was closer to the truth than anything else.

the first time, matt says he doesn't feel like a boy and he doesn't know what that even means, really, but nothing else feels right either and feeling unsafe in your own body is a terrifying feeling. felix says they've been there, and together they drink coffee and sift through whatever resources they can dig up from the first page of a google search.

(the second time, matt says he doesn't feel quite like a girl, either, knows he's not totally a girl, though the thought of letting his hair grow out a bit and maybe, in the safety of his dorm room, trying on a skirt or two, still holds some level of curiosity to be explored.)

matt doesn't remember how many weeks at the coffee shop it took until he tells felix that nonbinary feels right, but eventually he does, adding that he still likes he/him or she/her pronouns better than anything else. whenever he tells mike, his friend says he's proud of matt and then returns a few days later with a button with the nonbinary flag from the pride center to put on his backpack, and they graduated years ago now but matt still has it even though he's pretty sure mike doesn't even remember giving it to him.

[from-a-reckless-writer]

RE: the tags about being tempted to post a half finished fic and guess the ending, well you are a reckless writer for a reason

this is long overdue, so here have a fic.

It has come to the point that nothing fazes her anymore.

A kidnapping? Been there, done that. It means calling Sam Arias to intimidate the board of members into temporary submission.

An explosion at the office? Just a typical Tuesday. It means relocating to the 23rd floor and sharing the desk with two other interns for 2 months tops.

An assassination attempt? It means bracing herself for at least 3 deliveries of donuts and coffee for the two following weeks that Kara Danvers would be protectively hovering over L-Corp, until her boss snaps and shoos her away back to CatCo.

She’s seen it all, endured it all and she sure as hell is prepared for it all. She’s got three different ironclad statements ready to publish for whatever PR disaster will most likely turn up that week. She’s got contacts from the FBI, DEO, CatCo, Daily Planet, Gotham Gazette-- hell she even has Lillian’s personal cell (just in case the Luthor matriarch ever tries anything y’know? ) and yes, even the number of that 'Mexican place at 5th and Spring, you know the one Kara likes, Jess?'

She’s got two pairs of heels, a raincoat and four sets of outfits neatly folded in a duffel bag, at the back of the office, reserved for any emergency that requires a change of clothes.

The point is, she is an independent Asian-American woman who has worked her ass off for the better part of the decade and has long learned to take no shit from anybody.

Not even stupid superpowered Kryptonians.

See, it takes a lot to be her. It takes unlimited patience to put up with a woman like Lena Luthor, not because she’s a terrible person. Oh no, no, the complete opposite, actually. She is so overwhelmingly kind to a fault, and she doesn’t want nor let anybody see it. It’s infuriating to see sometimes. Okay, fine, she sides with the Krytonian on that one matter. But oh, ho, ho, not today. Today, she’s mad.

She’s livid, actually and it’s all Supergirl’s fault. (and Lena Luthor's too.)

Jess has had her fair share of ‘I-Should-Not-Have-Been-Here’ moments, like that one time she forgot to knock and stumbled unto Lex mid-yell with Lena whose eyes were shimmering but was still keeping a rigid posture.

Or that one time when she thought her boss had long left the office, only to be greeted with quiet sobs and an empty bottle of scotch rolling on the floor. Or that time she happened upon Lena, skirt and sleeves on fire with fumes rising from a green solution.

Apparently, her staff from the lab refused to let her in after three days of their CEO holding herself in isolation with the experiment. Lena had gotten the great idea of smuggling the chemicals to her office instead. Luthors are nothing but determined. Jess still remembers the adrenaline rush of holding a fire extinguisher—as if she were the chosen 5th grader for a school fire drill—and shoving her boss out of the way.

Like she said, nothing fazes her anymore she’s seen it all, except maybe, this one. Yep, definitely this one. This one just made a hot ball of fury unfurl at her very core. This one might just take the cake.

Jess was just going about her day, returned from a hearty lunch and feeling reinvigorated from that dose of sunlight and fresh air. It was a quiet day today, she noticed, which should’ve been a foretelling.

Nothing really is ever quiet. Well, when it comes to L-Corp, at least.

She’s been sitting on her desk for about a good fifteen minutes and finished with screening a few papers from their new contractors, when it occurs to her that the latest blueprints from R&D are still on her desk instead of already being reviewed by her boss.

She grabs the drawing tube and quickly makes for her boss’s private office. They’ve spent enough time with each other that Jess could just come and go as she pleases, instead of having to knock each time. Saves both of their time, that way.

Although, usually, she buzzes through the intercom first to double check, but it was 1:20 P.M and she knows Lena doesn’t have anything scheduled after lunch. So, she pushes the door, confidently strolls in and promptly stops in her tracks.

Jess stops breathing for a moment, blinks once, twice, stares at the scene before her.

Lena Luthor sat atop her work desk; blouse open, eyes closed, cheeks flushed, neck currently being ravaged by Supergirl with legs wrapped around the waist.

She probably should’ve just turned and left while they haven’t seen her yet. That would’ve been the smart decision, right? Yes. Yes, it was so very clearly The Right Decision.

Of course, she doubts she could look Lena in the eye for the next few weeks after that, but at least she wouldn’t know that Jess walked in on them during an er- make-out session? Office tryst? Oh God, she shudders internally. It sounds even worse.

Incident? Yep. Yeah. She’s sticking with incident. Indecent incident sounds more apt really.

She should’ve left. Would have left, if her eyes didn’t just land on the desk—well, more like Miss Luthor’s as- backside—and felt the stirrings of rage make itself known. Because there, underneath Lena’s ass (Backside!! Jess, that’s your boss!) is the squished—probably crumpled—pages of a contract.

A contract they’ve spent 5 months securing!!

Jess decides to do what everyone else would have done in a situation such as this; she clears her throat. Loudly.

Classic move.

Supergirl’s head immediately shoots up and Lena’s eyes snap open.

“Jess!” Supergirl squeaks and she sees the exact moment the realization hits Lena. Her eyes widening at her girlfriend’s exclamation, whips her head to the side, spots Jess, hands scrambling to a panic to close all the buttons of her blouse.

She hears Lena hiss, “Fuck, shit. Oh my God. Shit. How did she even- You have superhearing!!!” as she pushes Supergirl—who lets herself be pushed, stunned by the intrusion, face redder than a tomato.

Lena gets off the desk, fixes herself all the while to futile results. Her hair is tugged down from her usual ponytail, her neck and chest is marked, her lips swollen.

Supergirl's hands twitch at the sides and Jess sees her gulp as blue eyes frantically dart to Lena and her, and then Lena, and then back to her.

Lena finally turns around after those few awkward beats.

"Jess," she begins, clearly trying hard to put on her business bitch persona, but come on, there's a hickey under her jaw for fuck's sake.

"It's not what you-"

Jess doesn’t let her finish, she stomps her way across the office and forcefully puts the drawing tube on the desk. It makes a hollow thump.

“Jess I-”

“Supergirl, do you know how long it takes to finalize a business proposal, pitch it to the board, persuade the board and finally have a contract drawn?”

Supergirl gulps again. Lena’s eyes are wild next to her, she doesn’t like not knowing what the next best move is, Jess knows this all too well.

“Uhhh- no?”

Jesus Christ, you’d think after years of shadowing Cat Grant, she'd had at least learned a thing or two. Then again, if somebody is full on glaring at her after getting caught red-handed, Jess doubts she could answer coherently too.

“That’s right,” Jess says, “You don’t.”

“Jess,” Lena repeats pointedly. She knows that tone. It’s a warning.

“Ms. Luthor.”

A period not a question mark. It’s a challenge.

"I've spent all my evenings working late on that, do you know how many dates I've had to cancel? Just so I can secure a meeting with Qatar and simultaneously sync it with Beijing's time? My boyfriend hasn't seen me in two weeks!” Jess bursts out.

“Two weeks, Supergirl!” She gets close enough to jab a finger to the Girl of Steel’s chest. A feat she will gladly tell all her coworkers later when she’s calmed down enough.

“Not to mention, the 10 other people who worked their ass off trying to make sure that Miss Luthor's presentation is airtight, bulletproof and waterproof!” Lena has the decency to look a little guilty at this point, nothing big though, just a slight tug at her lips, but it was enough for Jess.

“IT TOOK ME 3 FUCKING MINUTES TO PRINT THAT GODDAMN CONTRACT WHICH MIGHT NOT SOUND LONG—” Jess raises a finger in emphasis, “BUT BELIEVE ME WORKING IN L-CORP? A 3 MINUTE DIFFERENCE CAN MEAN AN ASSASSINATION ATTEMPT OR PSYCHOPATH PRESS!”

Supegirl of all people should already know this! For fuck’s sake!

Jess’s chest is heaving. She takes a deep breath, kneads her knuckles to her eyelids, “So, please if you're gonna have sex in the office, please, pleaseeeee clear the desk first. And at least, lock the door.”

She stares them both down, till Lena gives her a solemn nod; cheeks and ears still red. Supergirl squeaks out an, “U-understood, Ma’am.”

“Good. Glad we’ve come to an agreement.” Jess gives them one final nod before finally fulfilling what she came in here to do, “Miss Luthor,” She turns to Lena, “here are the R&D blueprints. Good day, to you Supergirl. I'll be going now. "

When she finally goes home, tells her boyfriend, and wonders aloud if she’ll still have a job the next morning, he tells her she’s such a badass.

And well, Jess can’t disagree with that.

*****

"Did I just- Did I just get yelled at by your secretary?? D-did she just chew us out?"

"She did, and she deserves a raise."

[holypapaya]

Peaches (Konro Sagamiya x Reader NSFW 18+)

Fem! Reader

Konro and his girlfriend run home to escape the rain. When they decide to eat sweet peaches as a snack.

Warnings: age gap, denial, rough sex, oral play, begging 

Skip to ** for sexy time. 2,000+ words. 

________

God, how is she so beautiful? And, how in the hell didn't I notice her before? 

These were the two questions Konro would ask himself repeatedly whenever he took Y/N out on their weekly dates. Unfortunately, the morning was a sweltering and humid day that overwhelmed the Great Tokyo Empire. Konro suggested that they have their date later in the evening to avoid the rain and the burning hot sun. Y/N's clothes hugged her glamorous curves as her skin glistened from a thin veil of sweat. The lantern lights that hugged the walls to local businesses created a soft glow.

Staring at her in awe was not a part of the plan. Well, none of this was a part of any plan, actually. Not even his life plan. They've been dating for a little over a month since Konro first met Y/N. His typical routine trip was to see Seamstress Granny to fix any rips in his uniform. That day he tore his pants while rebuilding Asakusa after the most recent Infernal attack. With his uniform in hand, he walked through the door, the bell ringing as it slid open. Just as he was about to call the elderly woman, he noticed the most beautiful, enchanting woman he’d ever laid eyes on. Konro was so stunned by her beauty that he didn't hear her greet him or ask what he needed to be done. Since then, he’s gotten to know Y/N well over time.

Before running her Granny's store full time, Y/N would visit Asakusa three times a week to help around. That’s why Konro found it unbelievable that he never noticed her before. Honestly, it was probably because of the increase of Infernal activity, but that was no excuse in his mind. Y/N stood slightly taller than most women in the empire and was curvier than other women too. Her full breasts always pulling at her shirt and plump ass tight, giving a slight jiggle as she walked. Despite all of this, Konro still towered over her. Don't misunderstand this, though; he is dating her not for her body but because he earnestly enjoys Y/N's company. Y/N made him feel things he hadn't felt in years or even within his lifetime.

Y/N's thumb gently rubbed the back of his bandaged hand as they held hands while walking down the street. Y/N was smiling greatly as she continued to talk. Konro wasn’t exactly the talkative type, so hearing Y/N talk brought him immense joy. The self-proclaimed hermit has found a friendly, outgoing puppy to love day in and out. Being with Y/N even made Konro feel young again. He's heard that having a significantly younger girlfriend can change a man's energy levels, but Konro didn't expect to feel this young. Especially his sex drive.

Being overwhelmed with work duties almost made him forget what a sex life was. Work. Eat. Sleep. Repeat. This was his routine for many years. However, when he was younger, Konro always managed to find time to "express his sexual desires" is a polite way of saying it. In other words, straight-up fucking. But as the years flew by and seeing Benimaru become captain of the 7th, Konro had more distractions, to say the least. With Y/N, it was different, though. She sparked something deep inside of him. In his many years of life, Konro never had the animalistic urge to make a woman cry, scream and mess them up during sex as much as Y/N.  He almost had the chance too. Almost.

Last week, Y/N and Konro decided to go back to base for some privacy. During that time of day, mostly, everyone would be out making rounds or going out to eat, so it seemed like the perfect time. Right in front of him, Y/N laid bare. Her head bobbing up and down his shaft, her right hand moving in sync with her head, her left hand gently caressing his hip. Konro's deep blue eyes stared at Y/N, hypnotized by her beauty. Carefully, he placed his hand on the back of her head, adding a slight pressure, silently asking her to deep throat him. Which she happily obliged. That's when he heard it -the Infernal alarm. Y/N's eyes grew wide as she met Konro's. She released his now soft dick from her mouth as she watched Konro get up and hurriedly dressed himself.

It's only been a week since they've last had time for each other. Yes, they would greet each other outside or maybe have a small lunch if they had the time. But, they were never truly alone, just two people immersed in a chaotic world. Konro couldn't help but think  about if he would ever get a chance to redeem himself. He could kill a man at this point to see Y/N's lush body naked in front of him again.

Y/N let out a sound of confusion, "Konro, I think it's going to start raining," she looked up at the sky after feeling something damp hit her face.

"Hmmm," he mused, still lost in his train of thought.

That's when he felt it. A sudden shower washed over the both of them. Y/N pulled Konro by his arm, leading him down a side street. 'Let's go back to my place,' she called back behind her. Konro followed her, watching droplets run down her soft skin.

'Please, one more chance,' Konro chanted in his head all the way to her apartment. As they entered the one-bedroom, Y/N handed Konro a fresh towel. Then, she walked over to the refrigerator, asking her boyfriend if he liked peaches.

** "Yeah," he said, watching her pull out the fruit and a knife to cut it. Y/N cut the delicate fruit in half, pitting it, and proceeded to slice it. With every movement, her hair stuck to her neck and shoulders. Konro walked over to Y/N, pushing her damp hair to her shoulder, exposing her neck and collar bone. His calloused fingers massaged between her shoulder and neck. He saw goosebumps wash over her skin and grinned to himself. Leaning forward, Konro kissed Y/N's jaw and noticed a slight coat of pink on her cheeks. Y/N pushed a peach slice towards his lips. As Konro was just about to take a bite, Y/N took it back and put half of it in her mouth. She looked up at the older man with what he thought was a look of innocence and lustful hunger.  Y/N offered the other half of the peach that was sticking out of her mouth. With his large hand, Konro tilted her jaw up and took in the fruit.

On Y/N's bed, Konro propped himself up on his forearms to make sure not to put his total weight on Y/N. She laid beneath him in nothing but her bra and underwear. Konro was already halfway undressed with only his pants remaining. They kissed each other for a long time. While feeling his tongue slowly go in and out of Y/N's mouth, Konro imagined his cock doing the same thing inside of her. Konro continued to grind his hard cock into Y/N’s clad pussy.

Y/N let a long feminine sigh followed by a moan, feeling pressure onto her wet lips. She gently ran her nails down his abdomen, feeling his chiseled abs, before finally reaching his belt. She pulled at the material, hoping to touch his dick directly. Just the thought about touching it again caused her pussy to throb with excitement. Konro released her mouth from his and grunted in her ear,

"Not yet, baby," Konro nibbled on her earlobe, "Just wait a little longer. I'll treat you just as good as you treated me last time".

Konro moved Y/N's bra strap down her shoulder to have access to her collarbone. Then he nibbled and sucked until he left a light mark on her skin. Konro snaked his arm behind her back, unclasping her bra. Removing the material, he threw it onto the floor. Konro grabbed one of Y/N's full tits in his hand, gently but firmly. He flicked her nipple with his tongue, causing Y/N to inhale sharply. Frustratingly slow, Konro then started to suck her nipple, flicking it now and then. Y/N whined in frustration how Konro was still dressed.

He released her nipple, and while undoing his pants with one hand, he still massaged her tit with his other. Konro smiled down at Y/N almost wickedly as he watched her flushed face looked directly at his crotch. He kicked off his pants with one swift movement and found his way to Y/N's underwear, taking it off. Konro pulled down the thin material, excitement further boiling in him, realizing how wet Y/N was. She wasn't just wet but soaked. While kneeling, Konro grabbed her slender ankles, bringing her legs over his shoulder. Y/N's glistening lips in direct view of his face, and of course, his mouth. With a big lap of his tongue, Konro tasted Y/N's pussy greedily. He wasn't just licking her but also sucking on her drenched lips and swollen cit. Slurping and sloshing filled the room.

Y/N stared at Konro hazily, pleasure surging through her distracting her from any thought. She gripped her sheets tightly as her moans echoed. Seeing her boyfriend liked this not only made her feel wanted but happy. Konro has always been a very giving man. He gave up everything for Asakusa and Benimaru. So when the demon Infernal came, Konro didn't have to fight it alone. Instead, he chose to, for a simple but heroic cause. To protect the people he cared for. So seeing him eating her out hungrily and groping her body greedily made Y/N realize that Konro could express what he truly desired. He could tell her what he wanted and how he wanted it openly. Of course, in Konro's mind, he was primarily doing this to pleasure Y/N, but Y/N enjoyed seeing a different side of him.

Taking one last swipe at her clit, Konro lowered her legs, peering at his lover. A deep shudder swept across his body as he saw Y/N's face. Her cheeks flushed pink, lips slightly parted as her eyes stared at him dreamily—her chest lifting with every breath she took. Y/N looked absolutely decadent. However, she wasn't ready yet. Only eating her out wasn't going to be enough to stretch her for the pounding of her lifetime. Again, he grasped her lips with his own, tongue snaking into her mouth. Y/N let out a feminine sigh as her eyes fluttered shut as she was engulfed with pleasure. Her arms found their way around his neck, holding his closer. Carefully, he lowered his weight onto Y/N, causing her to open her legs further.

One hand trailed down her abdomen, finding its way to Y/N's sweet drenched hole. He flicked her inner lips teasingly before sticking one digit in. Next, he curled his finger upward, finding her g-spot. Y/N ended to kiss to arch her back in pleasure. Konro chuckled at her reaction, slowly rubbing the inside of her pussy.

"Just a little longer, baby. I need to open you up cause you're so tight."

He inserted another finger. He spread the two as far as they could, expanding her walls. Then he would bring them back together rubbing the top of her velvety walls. This went on in a pattern, almost like he was massaging the inside of her pussy. His rough fingers thick fingers felt so right inside of her. But there was something else that she needed with urgency. Something else belonged inside of her. Y/N grabbed his thick biceps, her head turning to the side. She bit her lip, begging Konro.

"Kon, please, please-"

He ignored her pleas, "Are you gonna coat my dick with your cum like you're doing with my fingers," he felt her walls tighten around him.

"Yes, I wanna cover your dick with my cum. Please", Y/N cried.

"Say my name, the way I like it."

God, he's so cute, Y/N thought to herself.

Looking at Konro softly, she said, "Kon-Kon."

Konro smiled with satisfaction removing his fingers.

He wrapped Y/N's thighs around his waist as he watched her quiver. Cock in hand, he rubbed the tip along her slit. Y/N's juices slicking his thick tip as pre-cum drooled out of Konro. Then he gently pushed his cock into her slowly as her walls stretched around him. Konro tilted his head back, moaning, feeling Y/N's velvety warmth grip around his pulsating member. Then, as Y/N let out a cry of pleasure, Konro stayed still just for a moment, letting Y/N get used to his length.

 Gently, he caressed Y/N's face with his large hand, cupping her cheek. Konro rubbed her lower lip with his thumb. 

"See, baby," he practically purred, "You're so wet you took me in one thrust." 

Konro shallowly thrusted into Y/N's tight pussy wanting to see her reaction. Y/N rubbed her cheek into his palm, letting out a soft moan. To Konro's surprise, Y/N opened her mouth slightly, inviting his thumb inside. Then, she gently sucked. Konro took in a sharp breath, feeling his cock twitch with excitement. His Y/N was always full of fun surprises.                  

 Y/N released his thumb, eyes glazed with sexual desire, "Kon-Kon, I'm ready."

Say no more.

Konro pulled his cock out before slamming back into her. Y/N dug her nails into his back as her eyes widen with surprise. She felt a knot in her stomach as her pussy clench down on his thick cock. She couldn’t hold back her voice anymore. A load cry escaped her lips. Konro looked his lover with a sensual but firm gaze. He was in complete control. He was the dominant one. Each thrust reached further and further back to her cervix. 

Y/N’s loud moans matched the rhythm of each thrust, echoing in the small apartment. Her pussy aching in the most pleasurable ways. She moved her head to side as Y/N felt her body heat up further. Konro gently cupped her cheek again, turning her gaze over to his. 

“Look at me, baby.” 

Oh no. That was a fatal mistake. 

Y/N felt her pussy clench as Konro’s deep blue eyes met hers. The slight curve of his dick ran over her G-spot mercilessly. His body warm, skin soft, muscles tensed. How did Konro go untouched for so long? There had to of been someone in the whole empire that tried to sleep with him. It’s unbelievable that no one had tried.

Y/N gently wrapped her arms of Konro’s thick neck, bringing him closer.

“Kon-Kon. Hold. Me. More. Go. Deeper. Please”, Y/N moaned between each thrust.

Konro smiled, kissing Y/N’s forehead. How could he say no to such a cutie. She even said ‘please’. Konro wrapped one arm around Y/N’s mid back, clutching her body to his. As his thrusts became deeper and wilder, Konro cooed soft nothings into Y/N’s ear as her pussy tightened and her moans grew louder and louder. Then her body grew tense, a small gasp leaving her lips. Y/N’s urgent moans came to a stop. Konro felt the wet walls that cloak his cock spasm as his girlfriend’s body arched up. Y/N dug her face into Konro’s shoulder, orgasm ripping through her body. 

Swiftly Konro removed his dick to coat Y/N’s soft abdomen with his cum. He placed soft kisses all over Y/N’s flushed face, asking her if she was okay. Konro knew he wasn’t a small man, both in height and cock-wise. He cared about the well-being of his little puppy. Y/N ran her fingers through his jostled hair as she kissed his neck. 

“You can go rougher, you know.”

Konro smiled. Noted: can go rougher next time.    

[imagines-hoarder]

House Warming - Bucky Barnes

Summary: Hopping through some standout moments in making Bucky's apartment a place worth coming home to. (This definitely could have been a headcanon but I refuse to do headcanons at this time.)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

Word count: 2.6 k

Warnings: fluff with a lil angst

A/N: I have finished all the assignments left for my degree and decided to sit down and write today. This is probably trash but idc because it has been written and therefore I may as well release it. It's been a while since I've written and years since I've truly tried dipping my foot into a different fandom, but I figured I'd give it ago. Please don't forget to leave comments, I love interacting with y'all. Thank you @bwbatta​ for the dividers! xoxox

Masterlist

It all started with a damn candle. A ‘sandalwood & vanilla orchid’ candle tucked away in a reused cyan jar.

“I found it at the art market down the street last weekend,” you said as you placed it in the corner of the living room window. “You know we have to support local business.”

“And I shouldn’t assume this is your way of telling me my place smells, right?” Bucky quipped from the kitchen island, a cup of coffee in his hand and a lazy smile on his face. He’d just gotten back from a 12-day mission with Sam, and the last thing he had on his to-do list was to buy candles.

The smile grew firmer as you put yourself into his arms. “Complete opposite, actually. I bought it cause I thought it smelled just like you.” You hid your face within his chest, and he thanked the stars that you couldn’t see the warmth rising in his cheeks. His barren apartment felt a little bigger with a candle in the windowsill.

From there it became decorative pillows… and a couch to hold them. The small living room had quickly become a mess by the time you both had brought it up to his fourth-floor apartment, furniture wrap and packing peanuts strewn everywhere.

“I still don’t know why you needed to buy a sofa this big,” Bucky grumbled as he leaned over the back of the beige three-seater, looking down at your splayed out across its cushions.

“Don’t get me wrong, babe. I love the transient bachelor look you’ve got going on here, but you need more furniture than an armchair,” you mumbled between heavy breaths as you tried to regain control from maneuvering the couch into the apartment.

“And the pillows?” A laugh fell from your lips as you watched him look at the indigo cushions with a remarkable amount of disdain. Who buys pillows made just to look nice on a couch?

“They add character.”

“I didn’t think character was an area we were lacking in. Transient bachelor, remember?” He walked around the couch and shifted you over so he could lay beside you. You instinctively curled into him as you both closed your eyes. For a second the place felt like home. “I also don't know how you plan for us both to fit on this couch every day along with the pillows.”

“Don’t worry about it,” You looked up from his chest with a mischievous glint that made his heart skip. “It’s a pullout bed too. I’m sure it’ll be firm enough even for you.”

The home improvements didn’t stop there, but Bucky refused to admit how much he enjoyed them.

He liked having a place and person to come home to. After you had bought neutral bedding for his room, you’d spent an evening putting together ‘his and hers’ trestle bookcases for either side of the bed. He’d try to keep up his crabbish demeanor as you argued that ‘you needed a place to set your books for when you slept over,’ and a side table could no longer contain the small collection you had spilling over. Even still, he couldn’t find it in himself to banter much about the minor changes you made to make the place feel lived in.

And God, did he love living with you around. Between missions, his continued therapy, and trying to find his place in a world that had tripled in opportunity since his youth, he knew that he never had to question who he was and where he fit in when he walked through that door. You still occasionally slept at your own apartment when he was away, but he could always count on you being asleep in his bed by the time he came home.

One toothbrush in a glass became two, and from there, hand creams, face masks, and cotton pads cluttered the bathroom counter, packed away in their clear containers. You had made sure to keep lavender bath salts on hand for the late-night baths you took together when he woke up in a panic, unable to close his eyes again for fear of falling back into a nightmare.

It took time and working through plenty of hesitation before Bucky could progress from sleeping on the pull-out sofa to the bed, but ever since, you found your nights attended by restlessness whenever you weren’t wrapped in his arms.

Once your lease was up and you had a lengthy conversation about your inability to rest without him, you quickly filled the apartment with brown boxes. Bucky had been no less than astounded by how much you fit into them. From then on, no nook or cranny was without a vase or shelf.

“How many mugs does one house need,” Bucky asked skeptically while he continued to carefully pull them from their paper wrappings.

“Oh, come on! They’re fun!” You exclaimed, wrapping an arm around his waist as you took the Charlie Brown mug from his metal palm. “Plus, we go through enough coffee around here to justify some extra mugs.”

After you put the mug into the lowest shelf of the cabinet, you busied yourself with filing away the spices one cabinet over. No matter how much he tried, Bucky couldn’t pull his eyes away from you, lost in your own world as you chipped away at unpacking your belongings, making yours his, and vice versa. The domesticity in the little things you did was something he could get used to, and he wanted to return the feeling of normalcy as much as he could. He was far from the average boyfriend, but you remind him that could be a good thing. You never wanted to be average, but in these small moments, as you both did what normal couples do, he felt that he could create a new normal with you.

“So your Christmas gift came in already, and it’s too big to hide.” Your awkward tone carried over the phone as he exited a station ten minutes away from the apartment. Even though his neck ached and the cold nipped at the top of his ears, he couldn’t stop himself from releasing a breathy laugh.

“I thought you said you were good at this gift-giving thing, doll,” he teased you as he maneuvered his way to your shared apartment.

“Oh, don’t you fret, baby. I am the best gift-giver in all of New York City. I just slightly miscalculated how big this thing was and have realized it won’t fit into our closet.”

He tsked with a smirk on his face. “If you say so.”

“Hey, you gave me my Christmas gift a week ago.”

“Yeah, that’s because I didn’t know if I’d be back before Christmas.”

“Well, you will be, and I’m glad you are,” your voice softened lovingly as he pulled out his keys to the front of the building.

Bucky had gotten used to your love, but he’d vow to never take it for granted. All the pain he’d endured had somehow led him to you, the person who didn’t see his broken pieces as a burden or a project but as a potential to be whatever he desired.

When he hung up the call and unlocked the apartment, his brows furrowed into one; the apartment was pitch black. It was only when he heard your soft footstep walking towards the entrance that his face relaxed.

Before he could even kiss you, you had your palms firmly placed over his eyes. “No peeking; your gift is in the living room.”

The uncertainty in what you could have got him made his stomach clench. “Is it an animal?”

You slowly dragged him through the front hallway, making sure to avoid crashing into the entryway storage table. “I’m sorry to say it’s not alive.”

“Is it a nice welcome-home spread with candles, fruit, and the pullout bed all set up?”

He could feel your eyes roll to completion. “Easy there, sergeant. That’s for later.” You pulled him down to sit on the couch, and he kept his eyes closed as you pulled your palms away, moving to turn on a lamp. “Okay, Buck. open up.”

When he opened his eyes, it took him a moment to understand what he was seeing nestled against the wall; when he did recognize it, he could only form two words “Holy shit.”

“Holy shit indeed.”

He was quick to stand up and cross the room, eager to get a good look at the walnut centerpiece. “Does it work?”

You scoffed as you moved to kiss his cheek. “What kind of girlfriend would get her ancient boyfriend a broken phonograph console?”

He didn’t even attempt to answer as he bent down to wrap his arms around you, his lips eager to find yours. “A fucking Magnavox radio and phonograph,” he mumbled against your lips.

“A working Magnavox radio and phonograph, you mean.” When you pulled away and saw that his face held a glow reserved only for special occasions, you knew you had made the right choice. “I’ve got some records wrapped up if you want to open those now too.”

You yelped in surprise as he picked you up and made his way towards your bedroom. “I’ve got something else I’d like to unwrap first.”

Bucky Barnes had grown up in a period when the average family could seldom afford nice things or much of anything at all. The Great Depression has resulted in the slogan ‘Make it do or Do without,” being ingrained into what memories he still had, and 'doing without' had become commonplace for the Barnes household.

That’s why every gadget and gizmo you added to your household left him in awe. For much of his life, including the decades he spent as a weapon for Hydra, he hadn’t been allowed to call anything his own; he was still getting used to living so plentifully, both in love and in life. But now, he could barely move and he thought it had all been taken away from him.

The attack was supposed to have been contained, at least three miles away from the apartment. Anything less, and he would have made you visit your family upstate instead of just suggesting it. By the time Sam had told him that there’d been some confirmed damage within a block of the apartment, Bucky was already on his way home. He couldn’t think of anything but the worse: you trapped in a collapsing apartment building or pulling up to find no building there at all.

He felt his lungs fill with air again as he pulled up to your building, completely intact regardless of the severe damage less than a five-minute walk away. It felt like both seconds and hours between when he parked his outside and unlocked the front door.

“He doesn’t have his phone on him, mom. How am I supposed to…” you trailed off from your call as he walked into the living room, turning your head away from the Breaking News report you’d been glued to for the last hour. “Wait, I’ll call you back. Yeah, I’m fine. I’ll call you back.” Your eyes never left his as he walked over to you, hanging up the phone with worry in your eyes. “Buck, are you oka-”

You couldn’t even finish your sentence before he pulled you off of the couch and into his arms. His grip was less reserved than he usually kept, but he made sure not to hurt you, eager to keep you in his arms, where he knew you were safe. A single tear fell from the corner of his eyes as he realized the real possibility that he could have lost you if you lived even 5 minutes closer to the attack. You stayed like that for a while, gathered tightly in his arms as you both settled onto the floor You didn’t push him to verbalize his fear; you already understood it. And it took this occurrence for him to realize he never wanted to experience this feeling again.

Bucky was quiet for the rest of the evening, and while it worried you, his fear had been evident enough not to require questioning. The city-wide cleanup had lasted all hours of the night; for the first time in all the years you had lived in the city, the sounds of the whirring of vehicles clearing debris off the street had been too close to ignore. The sun was rising before a single word was said between you and Bucky, tangled together on the sofa as the first ray of light made itself known.

“You’ve spent so much time piecing this place together, doll.” His voice was raspy. You know he hates when you see him cry, but his pain was always evident in his voice. “And it could have been all wiped away in seconds.” You let a heavy silence settle between you as you traced a pattern into his shoulder. He couldn’t bear to say it, but you knew what he meant: You could have been gone within seconds. “I just… I don’t ever want to feel like this again.”

You’d both gone through so much to make your relationship work. Nearly normal was as close as you would ever attain to being an average couple. The distance, the days without contact, and the ever-present fear that anything could pull you away from one another was something that had taken time to work through.

You looked around the living room and saw the place you had built together. There were photos and books scattered on any flat surface, a leftover mug half-filled with cold tea, and a record left out on the phonograph. The apartment looked like what love felt like; a messy combination of everything you and Bucky. But this apartment could not contain everything that ‘home’ was; only Bucky could do that.

The words fell from your mouth before you could restrain them. “Maybe we should move.”

Your eyes found each other, and you both sat in silence, though it felt lighter, invigorated with the new proposition.

Before he even responded, you could see tension dissolve from his shoulders. “Where do you want to move?”

You hadn’t thought that far ahead, only being able to provide him with a shrug. “I don’t know… maybe upstate, maybe somewhere else.”

“Your mom would like you being Upstate.”

“My mom would love us living next door too, but I don’t see that in the cards anytime soon.” You got a ghost of a smile for that.

“We could probably afford a house if we moved out there,” he said as he moved his lips to meet your forehead.

“Buck, I’d move anywhere with you. As long as we have each other, then we have all we need to rebuild this place.”

He pressed soft kisses to the crown of your head, and you swore you felt his chest flutter. “Tomorrow, I’m gonna look for some places, bigger ones too.” He tilted your head up to find your eyes, and you were sure that all of the love you carried for each other was incredibly visible at that moment. “You have made this apartment something worth coming home to. Now let me give you a house to make a home.” Your skin tingled with adoration as you pulled him as close as possible, burying your face into his neck.

You didn’t want to let go. You wanted to lay in this room, in this bed, and in this moment until the end of time, but you knew that something bigger and better was on the horizon for you and Bucky.

“All I heard is that you’re buying me a house.” His laugh was music to your ears.

[yinses]

B R A N D E D

| he would make sure that everyone knew who you belonged to |

tattoo artist! sukuna ryomen

rating: t

a/n: this is going to be a three part series. it got too long because i couldn’t shut up. thank you to @teoran for beta reading !! 

you should have never informed yuuji that you were thinking about getting a tattoo, because of course his first response would be hey, sukuna owns a shop. why don’t you stop there. as if you didn’t already known that. your other friend, unfortunately had not known how to be subtle about it.

its when you go to hand off your card that they gasp audibly, drawing the attention of both yourself and the woman behind the counter.

“you’re not going to ask for a discount? i mean you know the owner, right?”

she jumps back quick enough to dodge the errant elbow you throw her way.

you knew you would regret telling her.

the woman is undeterred as she take your card, looking bored with the news. “so you know sukuna, huh?” the way she said it implied that it wasn’t the first time it had been made known to her.

you had known the man long enough to know where her thoughts were going with that assumption. sukuna wasn’t only popular for his art. a shudder rolled through your body at the idea of being categorized as one of his flings.

it wasn’t as though you were intentionally shaming the women. but it was sukuna. the same guy who locked you and his younger brother out on the patio whenever he was meant to keep an eye on you. and then blamed you for hiding from him when the responsible adults got home.

in hindsight, maybe you should have chosen another location. but now your card has been charged.

you scribbled your signature on the receipt, “uh yeah, awhile now. im not requesting him or anything.”

“his appointment book is full anyway. he doesn’t take walk ins.” its not said snidely, just matter of fact. as if she was seasoned with dealing with these kind of customers.

the man of topic strides in then, carrying a few bags of take-out that he drops carelessly onto the counter. he doesn’t m look unlike any other day, a loose white sleeveless shirt with a low hanging v-neck that just invited attention to his skin. the swirls of black ink made permanent by his hand only. though that was the advantage of this field and owning your own business on top of it.

sukuna was prepared to ignore the clientele planted at front desk, until he did a double take. those vermilion eyes took you in, morphing from speculation, to shock, a pinch of awe, then back to postulation.

“what are you doing here?”

a small frown mars you face. you didn’t actually consider that perhaps sukuna wouldn’t want you here. it was one thing to know the guy, but whether you wanted to accept it or not, you weren’t just another customer. so you unsurely respond with, “getting a tattoo?”

the snort he gives isn't one of annoyance. in fact its almost comforting to see the minuscule curl of his lips until they start to part, “yeah, missing something aren’t you?”

you realize with a frown that he’s referring to his brother.

“i have other friends.”

that slow smile wides as he gives your friend a brief look of appreciation. suddenly all those years of witnessing him cart his flings around rise to the forefront of your mind.  really nothing rarely changed. “ i can see that.”

his gaze cuts back to you, “what are you getting? your boyfriends name?”

you cant tell if he’s teasing, fishing or a combination of them both.

he turns to lean over the counter, arms flexing at the action and pinches the fresh design still hot from the printer. you resist the urge to shuffle in place as he inspects the image with more interest than there were lines. it was hardly all that complex, just as you intended.

sukuna finally voices his opinion, to no surprise of your own. “yeah? kind of small isn’t it?”

“its my first sukuna,” you drawl.

you realize too late that the wording isnt best around him.

“no kidding.”

he tugs a styrofoam box free from the plastic bag before gesturing to you with a tilt of his head.

“alright, lets knock it out.”

you look to the woman expecting her to complain about his pending appointments but she only returns it with a pointed look. when it came down to it, what the boss wanted goes.

right then.

turning, you address your friend who seemed more invested in watching sukuna’s departure. “are you coming?”

her gaze snaps to you and she doesn’t even bother to pretend. she shrugs, “you may not be squeamish about needles but i am.” her hand waves vaguely towards the lounge area near the coffee station and stack of assorted snacks. “i’ll come running if you scream though,” she teases as you turn down the hall.

sukuna’s voice carries from the right in guidance where you find him setting his food off to the side. the room is neat. though you don’t know what you were expecting given the health expectations lining his work. then again, you’d spent the better part of the decade watching him cart week old pizza boxes out of his room so it was hardly a baseless assumption.

aside from the desk of tools and variety of inks the only other defining feature was the wall at the back. there was no rhyme or direction to the madness. the once white wall was littered with varying penmanships and messages. almost like an autograph book. some derogatory, others genuinely thankful for his work - you think you see a few numbers too.

the cushion of the seat protests under his weight as he rolls to the center of the room. he has the stencil of your chosen art held up in expectation.

“where is this pretty little thing going?”

“oh my rib- here on the right.” you think nothing of bringing up the hem of your shirt to expose the skin just under the curve of your breast.

he almost looks impressed, though there is some doubt. he wheels closer and gives no warning as his hand palpates the area. “over the bone? that’s daring for your first tattoo, princess.”

the name was nothing new, an accompaniment to yuuji’s ‘brat’.

part of you actually grateful that its sukuna. the entire shop had good reviews but it was best known for his talent. besides, the charge was already sitting on your card.

“i can handle it.”

he’s still squinting at your side, fingers tickling at your skin.

“yeah?” he answers absently. nimble digits you didn't think had any taste for delicacy carefully peel the plastic from the stencil. he doesn’t second guess himself in the slightest before pressing it to your skin.

when he pulls away, the chair follows him as he collects a hand mirror from his desk to reflect the design back to you.

“double sure?” he’s still rallying your resolve, but there is a hint of warning to his voice as professionalism seeps in.

with a firm nod you seal the deal,” yeah.”

“aright, pin up your shirt out of the way. tuck it into your bra if you want.”

you were expecting this already, given the location you’d decided on. with sukuna that action comes effortlessly without thought. it was no different than the times he’d seen you in your bathing suit, your brain reasoned. at least you still had your pants this time.

sukuna rests back into a lean against his small desk. absently you note that his eyes haven't left you once since you’d entered the room.

“eager little thing aren't you?”

but its sukuna.

you shrug.“ i guess. kind of been saving up for this one.”

the noise he makes is non-committal as he nods to the angled chair.

without your shirt there was no barrier between yourself and the leather. you expected the cold chill but the lack of stickiness kind of surprised you. once again you were reminded of the indisputable list of reviews at your fingertips.

sukuna goes about collecting the materials to disinfect your skin, angling the bottle and cotton over the trash can to catch the excess drops. satisfied with the saturation, he slides back.

you try to absorb the brief shock you feel when he applies the alcohol to your skin. it was hardly a substitute for actual bracing to come but it was good practice. when you look up, you catch his gaze again.

he’d been more observant in these last few minutes than you could ever recall sukuna caring before. maybe it was the job. though the thought of him excelling at customer service has you fighting a snort.

“cold,” you supply and he gives another grunt.

he chucks the cotton ball into the trash with all the efficiency of a man who has made a sport out of it and probably keeps score.

deciding on a solid color eliminated the need for him to break away to change shades, eliminating any surplus time keeping you in this chair.

a gloved hand braces your side, pinching the skin, while the other holding the gun rests against your sternum. when the motor starts you take a careful breath in. sukuna’s eyes raise at the sound.

“not nervous?”

you blink, expecting him to just get to it.

“uh, not really? i’ve never really been afraid of needles.”

he pauses. just when you part your lips to ask what wrong the buzzing starts.

its impossible not to tense at the first bite of the needle. but you fight the urge to jerk. it stings. the vibration of the motor is uncomfortable against your ribcage but it's not unbearable. you certainly wouldn't cry.

sukuna seems to notice it as well.

“not going to lie thought you’d be more of a cry baby? weren't you the one sobbing after you stubbed your toe.”

you latch onto the idle chatter even if it's a jibe.

“i was eleven and i sprained that toe.”

he gives you a quick glance. “sure, princess. completely called for the waterworks.”

you snort. “yeah well it made me stronger. im barely affected today.”

your words are followed by a shift of his hand as it turns to follow a line, the movement pressing firmly against the underside of your breast. you're too attentive to the needle pinching at your skin to take notice.

but sukuna does, eyes narrowing without your awareness.

“yeah, i can see that.”

rather than closing your eyes to block out the pain, you find a more comforting distraction in tracing the lines of his tattoos with your gaze. you can hardly make out the first tattoo he’d gotten at the age of seventeen after forging his parents signature. 

the abstract design had now branched out, interlocking with new styles to map out the formation of a sleeve. it was almost like his own branded language. a dialect of bold shapes and bands. you’d never thought to actually ask what his tattoos meant. nor did you expect an honest answer.  

sukuna works rather quickly and efficiently while your mind wandered. even if he hadn’t squeezed you in during his lunch break this felt like the usual pace for him. he looked so in the zone as he followed the pre-made lines to perfection.

you weren’t the model customer, still having your brief moments of weakness but he rolled with the interruptions better than you expected. sukuna was brash growing up and didn’t tolerate nonsensical people. you’d had your fair share of opportunities to be chewed out by him.

and earned a reasonable amount of them, though your returning attitude said otherwise.

but this sukuna was softer, if you could put it like that. he knew the right time to give you breaks but didn’t let your nerves settle too much. when he wasn’t adding a layer to permanency to your skin, an errant finger would smooth over the swelling flesh.

more than once you heard him throw out a quiet good girl. that you knew was meant to be encouraging but it came with additional implications that tickled your skin.

he tells you that you should be grateful that the artwork doesn’t need any shading. that it was never a good fit for beginners.

your chest expands the furthest it had in the last half hour when he finally rolls back.

“alright, princess, go ahead and take a look.”

you take the offered mirror again and angle it to take in the fresh piece. the reflection you get back is- amazing. you’d been so concentrated?? on micromanaging the pain that you failed to take in the little details he’d added along with the original design.

as if reading your thoughts, he snorts. “it's not my art if i don't leave my mark. you can tell me it looks good you know.”

if you didn't know any better, you’d say he was authentic in his attempt to bait your approval.

and you had no reason not to provide.

your legs are a little shaky but you manage to balance yourself before brining the eldest itadori into a hug. sukuna goes stiff for a moment before returning the embrace and doesn’t resist when you press your face into his shoulder. there’s an awkward pat before they release each other from the hold.

sukuna .. before he’s shrugging you off.

“god, what a noob. at least let me cover it up. you’re going to irritate the skin.”

when he turns back to rummage through his desk you note the hint of a flush creeping up his nape. you know better than to mention it, instead just smiling at his back.

there is a scowl on his face as he applies the cotton square to your skin and tapes it in place.

“please do not itch this shit. i don’t care if you feel like your skin is going to fall off.”

he presses a small tube of antibiotic into your hand.

“and apply this daily. you don't need it drying out. “

you’re grateful for the little slip of printed instructions that follow. you were able to remember the sensible directions but it couldn't hurt to have additional guidance when you started to question the progress.

“oh and no sex.”

that was definitely not on the list.

sukuna raises a brow in all seriousness. “what? if you get your blood pumping too much.”

you call him on his bullshit,” this small? hardly. “

he raises his hands in mock surrender. “alright, try it yourself if you want. i charge for touch ups though.”

the two of you size each other up. just like old times.

with a sigh you relent, “fine, no sex.”

“good, see me in two weeks.”

his words stop you short. it wasn’t as if you needed anything added and he wasn’t a physician checking on your progress. if anything, you would only revisit your artist if there was a problem.

“what for?”

the dawning grin would follow you for the next fourteen days.

“to make sure you didn’t have sex.”

[superhero--imagines]

Part 1 Here! / Part 2 Here! / Part 3 Here! / Part 4 Here! / Part 5 Here! / Part 6 Here! / Part 7 Here! / Part 8 Here! / Part 9 Here! / Part 10 Here! / Part 11 Here! / Part 12 Here! / Part 13 Here! / Part 14 Here!

Donate to Higher Ground HERE!

* “Everyone in school thought you were dead.”

* Jessica says bluntly as you walk down the pink streamer filled hallway

* you offer her a fake yawn and a smile.

* “My dad came by for a surprise visit.” She looks confused before her expression smooths

* “Oh your real dad, not Carlisle”

* Carlisle contacted his counterpart, Eleazer to tell him you were running away with a man 300 years your senior

* So of course Eleazer came running -after he probably had a spat with Carmen about who would handle this situation better- to Forks on the first flight he found

* Only to burst through the door to see you and Emmett playing kingdom hearts in the living room

* “Oh, I see the rumors have been vastly exaggerated.”

* Cue -figuratively- sweating Carlisle who takes a sip from his mug

* Since he was already here you figured you would take a few days off from school and show him around

* “Is there anything in particular you might want to see?”

* Edward and Carlisle are looking pretty smug thinking that they’ve already shown you everything of note in the area.

* “I’ve always wanted to see the space needle in Seattle.”

* They both falter when they hear that. All the things they’ve shown you are things humans wouldn’t be able to see, hidden meadows, waterfalls, underwater caverns

* They never thought to show you human landmarks. Eleazer nods a growing smile on his face

* “Seattle has a lot of museums that I’ve wanted to visit as well”

* Carlisle let’s out a sigh of relief, none of his kids would be caught dead at a museum outside of a field trip

* To their dismay and Eleazer’s delight your eyes sparkle

* “Can we go to the pop culture museum and the arboretum too?”

* You don’t even pack, Eleazer tells you you can just buy whatever you need when you get there. You do take a duffel bag full of blood bags though

* And then you’re gone, you leave care instructions for your animals with Edward and you and Eleazer drive off towards Seattle in the rented Mercedes he got at the airport

* “Is it just me... or do they look happier with Eleazer than they are with us.” Edward’s only talking to himself, but Carlisle hears and the oncoming doting parent verbal and mental sputter makes him regret saying anything at all

* “it’s okay Carlisle, I’m sure they’re happy here with us too.”

* You guys stay at a pretty upscale hotel downtown, in the penthouse

* “Are you here on a trip with your boyfriend?” The receptionist asks, and Eleazar straight up starts laughing

* “This is my dad.” You say with a straight face and you can tell the receptionist wants to die

* “I-I’m so sorry, we usually get couples this time of year.” Right, it’s almost Valentine’s Day. Makes sense.

* Still there’s something super gross about people thinking you’re romantically linked to Eleazer

* The penthouse is very nice. There’s an infinity pool on your balcony, and three different bedrooms.

* The trip is really fun, you have a -pretend- meal at the revolving restraint at the needle, and spend the rest of the week museum hopping

* “She feels so familiar....” you mumble to yourself as you gaze at a portrait of a woman with long dark hair

* “That’s Carmen” Eleazer tells you

* “What?!?”

* “She was popular with artists even before she turned, it’s always been a hobby of hers to model” You’re just glad it’s not a nude portrait

* You take super cheesy pictures at the natural history museum, and even better pics at the pop culture museum

* On one of your last nights in the city Eleazer took you to a laundromat

* “I know we’ve been running out of clothes, but I’m sure the hotel has a laundry service”

* Eleazer just grins, talking to the attendant, who takes him to a hidden door.

* Well this isn’t sketchy at all

* Eleazer takes your hand in his as he leads you down a long narrow hallway. When you teach the end there’s a pretty nice bar and what appears to be a jazz club

* “It’s a speakeasy, I thought it might be a little fun for our last day”

* Being beautiful has its perks because the waiter doesn’t even card you, just brings you your dink

* “So...Garrett huh?” You groan, and Eleazer smiles

* You knew this was coming

* “Don’t worry, I’m not like Carlisle, if you like someone I like them too.”

* Well at least he isn’t acting like a total freak about the whole thing

* “I am surprised someone like Garrett is more your flavor though” you raise an eyebrow.

* “In comparison to who?” Eleazer gives you a funny look

* “Edward of course”

* You almost spit out your drink

* “Oh, is this one of those situations where the three of you are a couple together?”

* You start coughing and the waiter brings you a glass of water

* “We’re not together!”

* “Well of course you and Garrett aren’t together yet-“

* “Edward and I aren’t dating.”

* Eleazer just looks at you like you told him you’re pregnant

* “That can’t be right” he mumbles and you sigh

* “Why would you think we were dating?” The jazz singer belts out a high note and Eleazer patiently waits for her to be done so he can talk again

* “Well you went with them to Forks, and when you came to visit last year with him we all just figured it had happened naturally”

* Besides, Eleazer see’s the way he looks at you.

* Like you’re the epitome of your gender, like there’s never been anyone like you and there never will be again

* “We all? The entire coven thinks that?” Your fingers thread through your hair.

* What does Tanya think about that? She must be feeling pretty smug what with that talk she gave you all those years ago about how you would eventually date Edward

* Edward probably knows and just doesn’t even care, the criminal probably thinks it’s funny

* Eleazar watches you have a breakdown, taking a small sip of his brandy. It looks like you haven’t realized the way you look at Edward yet

* You look at him like you don’t have a single doubt. You trust him unconditionally, you know exactly who he is and where he will be.

* You look at him like he’s home

* “This is so embarrassing” you mumble and Eleazer smiles

* He guesses it’s not time yet for you to realize your feelings. Maybe it’s for the best, he’s not as bad as Carlisle, but the thought of giving you away at your wedding makes his heart ache.

* “The best cure for embarrassment is alcohol, drink up.” He grins when you clink your glass against his before gulping down the contents of your drink.

* Who knows, maybe in a few years someone completely different will show up and sweep you off your feet.

* You do talk about something really important with Eleazer though

* “Eleazer when do you think Aro will send for me?”

* Eleazer stops mid motion, his glass halted halfway between the table and his mouth

* “If I’m being honest, I don’t think he will for many years” Eleazer has an awkward expression on his face. “I think he’s afraid of you”

* You sputter

* The great and powerful Aro?! Alive for 1000’s of years. AFRAID OF YOU?!?

* “Oh don’t look at me like that, try and think about it from his perspective.”

* Your power is on par with Janes, but unlike her over the decade you’ve been a vampire your power has only gotten stronger. Your body’s natural despair and your desire to be human feed off of each other, compounding on each other to make your power that much more potent

* The only difference is that now you’ve learned to hide it, keeping your emotions in check so others aren’t hurt

* There isn’t a person alive that stands a chance against you at your full potential. You’re the strongest known vampire

* “Chelsea can’t bind you to coven with her loyalty like she does the others,” Eleazer takes a sip of his drink. “his only choice is to let you come back on your own volition, otherwise he risks a war.”

* A war he wouldn’t win, on your own it was dicey, all of them against just you could go either way

* But you weren’t alone anymore, now you have Tanya, Kate, Irina, Carmen, Eleazer

* And Edward. You know without a second thought Edward would follow you into hell if you asked.

* “Saving any discovery of remarkable talent”

* A discovery like Bella

* You’re not 100% certain, but you’re pretty sure your powers don’t work on Bella, the same way Edward, Jane and Alec’s powers won’t work on her

* And if she can really spread her shield to others-

* You’re f*cked

* “but the chances of that are slim to none.” Eleazer reassures you

* You give him a reassuring smile

* “Salud” you raise you glass and he smiles

* “Salud” he grins as your glass clinks

* You weren’t expecting the week to go by so fast, or to be having as much fun as you did.

* You were pretty sad when the end of the week rolled around and Eleazer dropped you off home

* “He’ll be back before you know it” Edward says, his arm over your shoulders, giving your arm a comforting squeeze

* “Yeah I know, it still feels bad though”

* Edward doesn’t say anything, he just holds you a little closer

* You’re thankful to the Cullen’s for taking you in and giving you an opportunity you might not have had otherwise

* But they’re not your coven, they’re not really your family

* And so now you’re here, walking in a bright pink and red construction paper covered hallway next to Jessica who’s talking about Valentine’s Day

* Ah right, today’s Valentine’s Day

* “Do you think maybe...Mike bought me a carnation?” She asks twirling a strand of hair around her finger

* “I’m sure he did”

* You’re actually sure he bought one for Bella, but you’re hoping the courtesy extends to the whole friend group

* You bought all your friends valentines, and that includes the Cullen’s and everyone on the cheer team

* The money wasn’t the worst part, they were only a dollar each, the worst part was having to write notes for all of them, it wouldn’t have been so bad if the girl at the table wasn’t giving you a dirty look as you pretended to struggle through writing 30 cards

* “How much do you want to bet Bella gets the most flowers out of all of us?”

* You would bet the entire contents of your bank account, but you’re pretty sure Jess can’t match your bet

* “Well, she’s something new to look at, and boys are dumb”

* Jessica blows a strand of hair out of her face. You know she’s probably a bit bitter since she’s started to notice Mike is interested in Bella and not her

* But you kind of get it

* Bella’s cute, but she’s no Cindy Crawford. And to add...she’s really shy, not exactly someone with a charismatic personality.

* The attention she’s garnered will fade in due time, Edward had told you as much

* “It’s the same thing as when we moved to town, most of these kids have gone to school together since childhood, so when someone new gets here it’s all they can think about. They don’t really like her, they just like the idea of her. The illusion of a choice”

* It made you a little sad to be honest, even worse was that Bella didn’t seem to enjoy the attention. She seemed uncomfortable every time a boy flirted with her

* “I almost feel bad for her, I get the feeling she’s not really into any of these guys that are chasing her” Jessica says, so you’re not the only one that’s noticed

* You’re a little surprised that when the student comes by with carnations you get two entire bouquets worth

* And then they come back the next period and give you another bouquet

* “Oooo someone’s popular!” Angela teases and you shrug. Most of these are from Alice and Rosalie, they each bought you three each

* You got a whopping 12 from Conner which feels a bit surprising

* You knew he was going after it, but you didn’t think he would bother to actually put any effort into his attraction outside of flirting with you

* You’ve got one from everyone in your friend group, a handful from others on the cheer team, Emmett and Jasper both bought you one

* The only person who didn’t get you one was Edward

* You wonder if he got Bella one? The thought seems unlikely since they were basically at each others throat the last time they were together

* So imagine your surprise when you walk into the hall to see Bella and Edward talking

* You’re gone for a week and it’s like they’re suddenly insta-friends

* In fact, Bella’s actually blushing, a carnation twirling between her fingers

* A light red carnation

* So he did buy carnations after all, just not for you

* And Edward...his eyes are sparkling as he looks down at her. A lopsided grin curling onto his face

* Oh, there’s that smile

* He says something to her and she pouts, slapping him lightly with the carnation

* They’re getting along just fine without your matchmaking efforts

* So you were the problem

* You should be happy, relieved even-

* But all you can feel is the sharp twist in the bottom of your stomach

* “Hey (Y/N/N), I see you got my flowers”

* You turn around to see Conner who’s looking at your half zipped bag, 3 bouquets of flowers popping out of the top

* “Oh, yeah thanks they’re beautiful.”

* “I’m glad you got them, I noticed you weren’t at school and for a second I was worried you wouldn’t be here today too.”

* He really is cute. He’s got chocolate brown hair and clear blue eyes, a splatter of freckles across the bridge of his nose. He plays tennis or baseball or some other irrelevant sport.

* He’s popular with the girls too, he dated Lauren a few times, and Jessica admitted she had a crush on him freshman year.

* “Are you feeling better now?” He asks, he looks genuinely concerned and it takes you back a bit

* “Yeah, my dad came for a surprise visit so we went to Seattle”

* “Oh that’s cool, what did you guys do?”

* You’re a little surprised that Conner O’Malley, f*ckboy extraordinaire, is Trying to engage you in an honest conversation

* “We just did all the tourist stuff, space needle, museums, food, the usual.”

* Conner smiles at you, hands fidgeting together

* “That’s cool, did you um-did you read the note with the bouquet?

* You didn’t notice there was a note, you swing you backpack around, picking out his bright red bouquet with ease.

* You hadn’t paid attention to the note attached than reading the name on the front to see who they were from.

* “Will you be my valentine” you read the note out loud, feeling confused. What does that mean

* He fidgets in front of you, from here you can see his ears are bright red

* “So would you want to go out sometime?”

* He’s asking you out? On a proper date????

* “We could go watch a movie, or um I know you like to ride those bikes in Port A-“ you do like to ride those bikes in port a

* You watch the his human boy fumble over himself. There’s no future with this boy, one day he’ll grow old and want things you won’t be able to give him.

* “I have a ton of homework to catch up on-“

* “Oh, yeah no, I get that”

* But maybe... maybe it’s okay just to pretend and let yourself be entertained by the experience

* “Would you want to come with me to the library? I’m totally lost on Trig”

* You know it’s not the most romantic place, but that’s part of the reason you suggested it. You want to give him an out

* He looks a little surprised but recovers quickly.

* “I’ll meet you after school then, we can drive to the library together”

* You don’t bother telling Edward, you just look to the spot where he’s with Bella, he must have heard

* His eyes meet yours, his mouth pinches into a slight smile and he gives you a nod before turning back to Bella

* What so just because he’s got a new friend you’re invisible now?

* Stupid Edward. Not like you care, you just wanted him to know he’d have to ride home with the others

* Maybe his new best friend Bella can give him a ride home

* “So you’re going out with Conner tonight huh?” Mike asks when you take your seat in biology

* Edward doesn’t so much as spare you a glance

* “He’s just helping me catch up on school work.” You shrug, pulling out your biology homework

* “I bet he’ll help you catch up on-“

* “You’re going out with Conner?” Bella interrupts, you’re grateful for it but at the same time: those doe eyes and innocent face irritate you

* “He’s just helping me catch up on homework I missed”

* “Couldn’t Edward hell you do that?”

* You try to not look at Edward

* But what the f*ck?!?

* Last week the two of them couldn’t even sit in a car together for a short ten minute drive, and now all of a sudden she’s asking why you’re NOT spending time with Edward?

* It’s so... irritating

* You feel a tap on your arm, and turn to look at Edward

* “Control yourself”

* Oh great so the one time he decides to acknowledge your presence is to tell you to control your powers because he’s worried about his little human girlfriend getting the whiplash?!?

* Seriously, f*ck off Edward

* “Mr. Barnes I have to go to the nurse.”

* You don’t even wait to hear his answer, you just grab your bag and walk out

* You keep walking, practically fuming until you get to the parking lot

* Well you can’t leave, you already told Conner you’re going with him to the library after school

* Not to add it’s going to look real weird if you don’t go the nurses office eventually after storming off like that

* But you don’t want to go there yet

* Queue you discretely crouching under a window, lightly tapping the glass

* “Rosalie, Rosalie can you hear me?” You whisper

* Rosalie head turns to the window, her eyebrows threaded together, you poke your head just slightly above the ledge and give her a small smile and a wave

* Well at least it’s always interesting with you around

* “What are you doing?” Rosalie asks when she meets you under the school staircase

* You give her a nervous smile before collapsing onto the floor

* She gives you a knowing look before sitting beside you

* “So what did king Brood do now?”

* Queue the Edward rant

* “I leave for one week and all of a sudden he’s besties with some human, when just last week he told me not to get to close to her”

* “That’s Edward for you, king of the brood and hypocrisy.” Rosalie leans her head back against the wall

* “You know he didn’t even get me a carnation?”

* Rosalie rolls her eyes

* “That sounds like him, if it helps he didn’t buy me a carnation either, he just doesn’t think things like this are important”

* “He bought Bella one.”

* Rosalie sputters at that, so you retell her all about the flirting you had to watch

* “What color was the carnation?” Rosalie asks, and your eyebrows thread together

* Why is that important right now?

* “Um I don’t know, not quite pink, not quite red, something in between.”

* Rosalie’s expression smooths

* So that’s his game

* “Don’t worry about it too much as long as it’s not a deep red it doesn’t mean love”

* Now it’s your turn to sputter

* “W-what why would I be worried? Edward can do whatever he wants, even if it is with some human”

* Rosalie gives you a knowing look, and you avert your eyes

* If Rosalie were cruel she might ask why you’re sitting out here with her instead of in class, if you don’t care about what Edward does

* But Rosalie isn’t cruel, at least not to you

* She pats your shoulder, and you sigh

* “Come on let’s go to the nurse so you can pretend you have cramps or something” you nod

* “Besides don’t you have a date with the hottest human boy at our school?” You groan and a teasing smile curls onto her lips

* “Not you too.”

* The date is over hyped for sure, it’s mostly you and Conner sitting at the end of a small table asking each other questions about the trig homework

* “So...are you supposed to use the radical formula for this one?”

* “I think so..do you remember the formula?” Conner scratches his head

* “Um I remember there was a story about a mixed up guy going to a party that’s supposed to help”

* Basically it’s more like you’re helping Conner with home work than him helping you Totally underwhelming

* “Sorry, I bet there are better ways to spend your Valentine’s Day” Conner scoffs

* “Are you kidding? I’m spending it with the hottest person at Forks HS, as far as I’m concerned this is a win” he grins and you smile back

* Well, it wasn’t completely a waste

* You roll around back home around 11:30, everyone’s gone, on with their own Valentine’s Day plans.

* You’re not surprised to see Edward’s not in his room either He’s probably out watching Bella or doing god knows what

* You know this is the way it supposed to be, it’s the best thing for you too, you know even with Bella in the mix Edward would never betray you

* Once she’s on your side you don’t have to worry about the Volturi. But still, there a twist in your stomach You don’t like this new Edward, even if it is who he really is.

* You want your Edward back

* You sigh as you walk down the hall and into your room Stopping in the doorway when you flick on the lights

* There on your desk is a bouquet of roses

* You have half a mind to think they’re from Eleazer or Garrett or something

* So imagine when you pull off the card to see Edward’s name attached

* “Glad to have you home, happy Valentine’s Day” - Edward

* You toy with the card, a small smile curling onto your lips

* Maybe he’s still your Edward

* Your Edward just more anti-social

Tags:  @moonlights27 @thebluetint @the100thtwilight @awesomebooklover17 @oneofthepotterheads @smileygirl08 @imdoingathingmom @iconicgguk @yrawn @alyciaswhore @little-horror-show @wicked-watering-can @lazydreamers @ xxxmuxxx @ideas-for-you-to-adopt​​ @poisoinedhope @maryleigh8796​ @moose-squirrel-asstiel​ @hotmessgoodness @jaimewho @corabmarie @what-am-i-doing10​

[shakey-hands]

please please can we get fukuzawa awkwardly having to tell ranpo he’s dating reader and the two of them start fighting and reader is subjected to it??? 😍😍

haha yeah. first ask that imma answer, let me know if you guys want more. my asks are open for any (except mineta gross) mha, ouran, or bungo characters :)

{this one is gonna be done with she/her pronouns but if you ask for gender neutral or he/him or any other pronouns, i can do it}

---

The clock struck two when Y/N looked at her phone, leg bouncing up and down in a way that always annoyed the people around her. Great. It was thirty minutes past their meeting time and her boyfriend still had not shown up with what she understood was his adopted son.

It had been a good plan. Meet on neutral territory, gas up (what Y/N assumed was) a teenage boy with a sweets addiction, and then break the news. Y/N was not sure why they needed to go through such lengthy troubles to inform her boyfriend’s son that they were dating. He was at least old enough to understand what dating was. And from what she had heard from Kunikida, Fukuzawa’s son had a very prominent dating life of his own. But Y/N trusted her boyfriend, no matter how many times he looked off into the distance with quiet wisdom that felt vague.

Y/N sipped her tea, realizing that caffeine would only worsen her anxiety. It didn’t matter how many times Fukuzawa and Kunikida tried to tell her that the meeting wouldn’t be a big deal and that the son would love her, she wasn’t so sure. He was working at the Armed Detective Agency and was good at what he did. At least those were Kunikida’s words as Y/N and him were quietly reading in the same room as they did on Saturday nights. While Y/N appreciated Kunikida for his straight forward/driven personality, he did not fare well in comforting her.

Which brought her to her boyfriend. His solid, piercing eyes would always soften as she talked about her day over their dinner dates and he would brush the back of his hand on her cheek in the moments they were alone with one another. While Y/N rarely noticed because she herself was too infatuated with him, Fukuzawa cared deeply for her after seven months of dating. Their last hurdle was introducing Y/N to Ranpo. Fukuzawa was not at all worried since Y/N had a knack for making sweets and made people feel as if they were special when she smiled at them. There was never a shortage of praise around her.

Y/N checked her phone again, hoping that an apology text would come through and she would not be left in the dark. That however was proving difficult. Fukuzawa was driving with Ranpo eating cotton candy in the passenger seat. He had to be bribed away from the sweets table Dazai had set up for some ungodly known reason to mess with Atsushi. It was embarrassing how long it took for Kunikida to pry Ranpo’s little grubby hands away from the snacks and then another amount of time for Fukuzawa to get Ranpo to put on his seatbelt.

It made Fukuzawa nervous that he was so late. He knew Y/N would be understanding, it was part of the reason he enjoyed her company so much. Knowing her, she would probably be bouncing her knee and staring down at the table, overthinking things. He, of course, was right.

As Fukuzawa was pulling into the parking lot, he spotted his girlfriend’s car. It was pristine, as always, and had a small cat paw sticker on the back left bumper. He smiled inwardly, realizing that he had been waiting for this. There was a future with Y/N and Fukuzawa couldn’t wait.

Ranpo still had yet to get out of the car, his glasses dangling from his shirt pocket and a light dusting of sugar crystals on his lips. He was pouting, of course. Kunikida did not pack enough snacks for the car ride, meaning Ranpo did not have the mental energy to get out of the car and go into whatever flop coffee shop the president insisted they go into. People were so stupid and Ranpo already just finished a case that was so obvious. The local police really needed to be more useful.

“Get out of the car,” Fukuzawa said, getting more and more agitated.

“No,” Ranpo said.

“Let’s go. I promise there will be sweets inside the shop.”

“So? There were sweets at the agency.”

Fukuzawa rolled his eyes, knowing Ranpo would sit in the car out of stubbornness. “Ranpo-”

“Yukichi?” A soft voice called out from the entrance of the cafe.

Fukuzawa turned to see Y/N standing right outside. She had a to-go cup of something hot in her hands, jacket sleeves pulled over her hands to stop the warmth from burning her skin. Even though it was overcast and windy, Y/N still seemed to have a certain glow about her that always took Fukuzawa’s breath away. She waved timidly, not knowing why he was awkwardly standing behind his parked car with a weird defensive stance. He nodded over to her, giving her a genuine smile before turning his head back to the car and glaring.

“Is everything okay?”

Y/N began to approach her boyfriend. The only other time she had seen her boyfriend have this stance was when she had bumped into some eyebrowless pale emo kid in an accident at the mall. Fukuzawa seemed to pick the weird fights, but she just smiled through it. His eyes held a certain annoyance the Y/N had not seen before. Her eyebrows furrowed as she took a step off the curb. Fukuzawa held out his hand, motioning her to not get closer. Y/N paused, unsure about his demeanor.

“Ranpo, don’t make me ask again.” Fukuzawa’s voice held a bass to it that Y/N had never heard before. She could only assume it was his dad voice that he has never had to use with her.

The window rolled down on the old car for just a crack. “I don’t remember a question being asked.”

The voice was whiny and slightly muffled, as if the speaker had sweets in his mouth. Fukuzawa rolled his eyes and put his hand on the glass. Y/N was slightly shocked by her boyfriend, but decided to let him do his thing. She was not a parent and the closest time she had ever been was when she had a babysitting gig decades ago when she was a teen. While she was interested in a family, she had neither the time nor mental capacity to follow through. So she stepped back onto the curb and took a sip of her tea, relishing in the warmth it provided.

“Ranpo, if you don’t get out of the damned car, there will be no sweets at the agency for a year.”

A clear threat had been made.

The door slammed into the car next to it, causing a dent that Fukuzawa watched form. Out from the passenger seat, a short man with a slight pout crawled out of the car. Definitely not the young teenager Y/N had been expecting. He was only slightly taller than Y/N and wore a cape. In fact, he looked like a full grown adult, maybe only ten years younger than Y/N. Her face said it all, though neither men were looking at her. They just stared one another down before Fukuzawa remembered his loving girlfriend stood awkwardly behind him. He motioned for her to come over.

Ranpo did not look impressed as he looked her up and down. Y/N looked too ordinary to know Fukuzawa in her jeans and plain jacket combo. Her shoes were dirty from all the yard work she had done throughout the years. As she got closer, Ranpo watched closely as Fukuzawa gently touched the small of her back before wrapping his arm around her waist. While Ranpo had never seen the President act like this, he did not care.

“Ranpo, I would like you to meet-”

Ranpo yawned loudly. “She’s way too old for me. Almost to hag status.”

Y/N’s eyes widened. She began to stumble over her words, not knowing how to respond. Fukuzawa’s cheeks burned with embarrassment. He couldn’t believe that Ranpo would even think he was trying to set them up. Ranpo made a disgusted face.

“No offense lady, but you don’t even look fun. Like all you do is sit in the dark and contemplate the excitement of frostingless yellow cake.”

How do you respond to that?

Y/N looked down, not sure if she wanted to laugh or cry. She was suddenly thankful for the sudden gust of wind that burned her cheeks, a sign that snow was rolling in. Who insults like that? The little sniffle that Y/N let out set Fukuzawa back into the present instead of the daydream he had slipped into where Ranpo got his ass beat.

“You can’t talk to her like that,” Fukuzawa said sternly. “And she’s not here for you.”

“Obviously. She could never handle the Greatest Detective.”

“No!” Fukuzawa said, tightening his grip on her waist. “I wanted you two to meet because we’ve been dating for a while and I thought it was finally time for you two to meet.”

Ranpo suddenly scoffed dramatically. Once. Twice. Three times. “And here I thought we agreed never to keep secrets! And all this time you’ve been giving your praise to someone else!”

Fukuzawa looked at the small man incredulously. “I’m allowed to date, Ranpo.”

“Not really!” Ranpo exclaimed, throwing his hands up into the air. Those who were passing by continuously glanced, wondering why they were arguing so loudly in a public space. “How gross is that! You’re like centuries old!”

“Look, I just thought you’d want to be in the know. If I had known you’d throw a tantrum, I would have just waited until after we were married.”

In that moment, Ranpo and Y/N spoke simultaneously:

“Tantrum?!”

“Married!?”

“Oh I’ll show you a tantrum!”

Ranpo pushed the old car to make it move back and forth in its parked place before beginning to punch the glass. There was no real power behind his throws, so there were soft thumps being emitted. Next he started to kick the tires, also without power behind his movements. He truly had transformed into a toddler, making the people walking by walk a little faster. He came off as some random crazy person on the street rather than an acclaimed detective.

Fukuzawa didn’t know where to look until a warm soft hand held his cheek, guiding his eyes towards Y/N’s. She smiled softly, ignoring Ranpo as he began to get physical. Her smile caused a chain reaction in Fukuzawa’s heart, making him resist the urge to get down on one knee at that very instance. He did have the ring adding weight to his pocket. She kissed his forehead, making him awkwardly bend down as she chuckled against his skin.

“You want to marry me?”

Fukuzawa blushed slightly. “In due time, of course.”

She chuckled again and nodded. “Of course.”

“I’m not calling her mom!”

[livexdolan]

40 & 70 with gray? :)

40. "Thought I told you to stay by my side, eh?"  & 70. “You know what? Never-mind, you’ll know I’m lying to you anyway.” 

Masterlist

Whenever people found out who your best friend was- you knew they were trying to keep from laughing in your face. If he weren’t standing right next to you when you told people, sometimes they would think you were lying.

You’ve been friends with Grayson Dolan for more than a decade, knowing each other since elementary school. By high school, you drifted apart socially but you still hung out at each other’s houses, played video games, helped him with projects, even decided to go to the same college.

You handled Grayson’s popularity in high school well and he handled your lack of popularity well. All you prayed was college would be different.

It wasn’t.

Grayson decided to join Theta Xi, known to be the biggest pothead frat but also the best partiers. You told Grayson that maybe your friendship wasn’t going to work out, this was the sign. Grayson argued with you and spent weeks proving the frat would never change him.

Three years and a presidency later, he had changed. Yet for some reason, she stayed.

Well, she knew the reason, she’s been in love with him since the first time they kissed. It was on a rock in the forest behind his house, they were 16 and 17 and he had just learned no one had ever kissed her before.

After that, she knew she had to stay in his life even though she wasn’t his type at all and he had never given her any reason to believe he was interested in her as more than a friend.

Now, she’s cursing at the way she always get blindsided when it comes to Grayson. He talks her into the stupidest shit because he asks her in ways that she doesn’t realize what she’s getting into but by the time she finally realizes, it’s too late to back out.

Like right now, leaning against the counter in one of the kitchens. The frat house was split into four quads downstairs and two quads upstairs. Each quad has two bedrooms, a kitchen, and a small living space, which all lead out into the main, large room of the house where the main part of the party is happening.

She could still hear the music thumping beneath her feet, she was upstairs in the ‘off-limits’ quad. It was Grayson, Ethan, Ryan, and Mando’s rooms up here.

Grayson’s the president, E’s vp, Ryan’s in charge of everything grayson doesn’t want to deal with but his official title is treasurer, and Mando’s in charge of all things social media for the frat.

I’m in Ethan and Grayson’s kitchen, the cleanliness not surprising seeing as Ethans girlfriend pretty much lives with them at this point. I always try to clean up Grayson’s room and bathroom when I’m over, the OCD type A freak in me hates seeing his books everywhere, trash cans full of bottles, laundry piled in the corner.

It’s not like that most of the time though, that only happens on his bad weeks. Those are the weeks when he falls into this funk and only talks to me and Ethan. We all give him space because we know why it’s happening, they started right after their dad died.

Mr. Dolan dying was so hard on everyone. My family included. My dad wasn’t a very stand-up guy, and Mr. Dolan always made me feel welcome and was the kind of dad I always imagined my dad to be.

“Thought I told you to stay by my side, eh?" I jump at the deep voice, turning to see Grayson standing in the doorway, looking like an angel committing a sin by looking so hot.

He has on a pair of slacks and a loose, silk shirt, the pattern almost matching Ethans. The theme for the night was Coachella. Even if we were many states away and most of the people here couldn’t afford to even look at Coachella tickets.

I let him talk me into coming, wearing a knit triangle bralette top and off-white shorts Grayson picked out, I just realized my shorts match his pants perfectly.

I quirk my eyebrow at him and cross my arms, “I’m sorry, did I leave you to play beer pong?”

He smiles at me and I want to slap it off his face- or kiss it off- either is fine with me, “I’m sorry, angel. Just come back down and enjoy the rest of the party with me, I won’t ditch you again, I promise.”

Grayson’s always done his hardest to keep ever promise he’s told me, so I push off the counter, my entire hard-ass demeanor falling away and my normal, shy and reserved self takes it’s place. He grabs my hand and I try to ignore the pleasure I get from feeling his warmth on mine.

He pulls me towards the stairs and then we walk down together, me slightly behind him. He abruptly stops and I bump into him, cursing at him but he squeezes my hand, silently telling me to shut up.

I look over in time to see Dylan here, with McKenna. Dylan was my first boyfriend, though we’re only kissed and cuddled, I thought we were serious. Until I found out he had been sleeping with my dorm mate the entire time. That was freshman year, I should be over it. I am over it, but the look Grayson gives me tells me I don’t look as though I’m over it.

“C’mon.” Grayson pushes us through the crowd, keeping us out of the line of sight of my ex.

We duck into one of the quads and I realize too late- it’s the pot quad. The rooms filled with a thick haze, the slight soundproofing making the vibes much more calm and relaxing. There’s only a dozen or so people but I feel much better in here than out there. Even if I don’t smoke.

Someone passes Grayson a blunt and he takes a quick hit, “I feel like I should stay sober to make sure that asshole doesn’t even look at you,” I smile at Grayson’s protectiveness.

“I’m fine. It was a while ago, Gray. I’m over it,” I shrug. Maybe it would’ve hurt more if my heart didn’t belong to someone else.

I make a quick decision and go to take the blunt. Grayson pulls back, the weed out in the air where I can’t reach it, “What do you think you’re doing?”

He raises his brow and I scoff, rolling my eyes, “Give it to me, Grayson. I just want one hit.” He pulls back again when I try to reach out.

He just shakes his head and it feels like his patronizing a child, “this shits strong, angel. You can’t handle it.”

Something about the way he said it sends me back to a memory I forgot ever happened. After Dylan took me out for our five month, we went back to his place and we started making out. I tried to reach for his belt but he pulled away, telling me I wasn’t ready. Couldn’t handle it. That I was too immature and if I wanted it to be great, I should lose a little weight, because skinny girls have the best sex.

I snatch the blunt from Grayson, taking a hit before he can stop me. Fuck men. Fuck all men who think they know what I can and can’t handle. I think I inhaled to much because when I exhale I feel a heavy burn and a dry cough comes up my throat.

Grayson pats my back, “Angel-“

“Don’t.” I push his hand off me. Taking a deep breath, I see Grayson watching me closely. “I’m fine.”

“You don’t look it. What is wrong with you tonight?” He asks me and I roll my eyes.

“You know what?” He looks at me expectantly and I sigh, “Never-mind, you’ll know I’m lying to you anyway.”

He grabs my hand and takes me out of the small room, moving us through the crowd to the back porch- a large, glassed in room. There’s only a few people out here.

He grabs my arms, “what’s wrong, y/n? Is it Dylan? I’ll kick him out if you want. ”

I look up into his eyes, the sincerity there surprising me. Grayson’s always been so honest with me. It’s time I’m honest with him. I don’t know if weed works this fast or if it’s the beer I downed earlier but I decide to be honest with him, “No, it’s not Dylan. I wasn’t even that hurt when we broke up. That’s because- I uh- I like you, Gray. I’ve had a crush on you since eleventh grade. I want to be with you. I mean- with you with you. I want to wake up next to you and hold hands and kiss and hug and- I want you to love me as much as I love you.” I rant.

His hands fall off my arms and my eyes well up, knowing the thing I’ve always feared is about to happen. He’s rejecting me. “Y/n I- I care about you. So much. But I- this isn’t a good idea.”

His words break my heart and I keep my gaze on the ground, “Um- okay. Well, I’m gonna- I have to go.” I say, looking up at him and biting my lip to hold back tears.

I turn on my heel and practically run back into the main room, trying to get out of this house as quickly as possible, “Y/n! Come back! Wait!” I hear Grayson’s voice and the tears start to fall, I push through the crowd faster, when someone grabs my arm, stopping me.

“Y/n?” I look up at Dylan, standing with McKenna. His eyebrows furrow when he sees me crying.

“Let me go,” I state, trying to get my arm out of his tight grip.

“What’s wrong? Who-“ he stops when he sees someone behind me, “Of course it was you. You’re such an asshole. What did you do to her?” He demands and I finally get my arm away from him.

Turning to see Grayson with rage in his eyes. He never got over Dylan cheating on me, “I didn’t do anything to her. You’re the piece of shit who cheated on y/n. How dare you come into my house and accuse me of hurting my best friend?” Grayson spits and I grab his arm out of instinct as he lurches forward.

“Gray, stop.” I say, he looks away from Dylan’s smirk to make eye contact with me for only a second before shrugging my hand off him.

“Yeah, Gray. Listen to your girlfriend. Don’t wanna embarrass you in your house, right?” Dylan mocks and I roll my eyes, knowing he’s just trying to rile Grayson up.

“She’s not my girlfriend,” the words are out of his mouth so quick, I don’t even realize what he said at first. I scoff and roll my eyes.

Because this is the time to correct him. You know what, “Fuck you.” I spit at Grayson and push my way out of the small circle forming around us. I make it to the front door when I hear a loud crack, looking back to see Dylan on the ground holding his nose and Grayson looking for me in the crowd.

We make eye contact and I shake my head, knowing this is the end of us. I open the door and slip out, running down the road, passing all the other fraternity houses. I can feel my heart pounding in my ears but I keep pushing myself until I get to my apartment, knowing it’s only a mile or so.

Once I get inside I slide down the door, leaning against it as I realize that happy ever afters are fake. The person you love isn’t always going to love you back. Fuck fairytales.

It’s not like I can hate Grayson- he didn’t know. I can hate him for not chasing me. He probably realized I’m not worth it. Best friends don’t run after each other, right? If he loved me, he wouldn’t have let Dylan get to him. He would’ve grabbed me and made me stay.

Tears fall down my face unrestrained as my heart clenches at the thought of never being friends with Grayson again. We’ve gone through death, high school, years of people trying to pull us apart, and I was able to ruin our friendship with three words.

If it was meant to be, he would’ve fought for me. Figuratively, not physically, seeing as he already punched someone tonight. I drag myself to my room and fell into the blankets, closing my eyes. I pray I will forget this night ever happened.

Next Part...

A/n: For all my people who didn’t get their fairy tale ending ❤️

[gaitwae]

Wildest Dreams [|] Loki x Reader

Sequel to Mr. Perfectly Fine

Warnings: 

Summary: Loki remembers what he’s done to you. You work through the hurt, deciding not to rush whatever’s really going on.

Tags: @make-me-imagine @thorfanficwriter @bwemph @myraiswack @rorybutnotgilmore @loki-snape-our-hero @wolfish-trickster @lucywrites02 @mostly-marvel-musings @winterfrostsarmy @superheroesandstardust @castiels-majestic-wings @geekns @natandersonnla @cozy-the-overlord @megthemewlingquim @frostedgiant @whatafuckingdumbass @thebookbakery @delightfulheartdream @twhiddlestonsstuff @lokistan @the-emo-asgardian @amwolowicz @itscomplicatedx @sophlubbwriting​ @darkacademicfrom2021 @lilyofthesword 

It was absolutely safe to say that when your eyes opened, you were scared out of your mind. Loki was sleeping on your couch, his fingers laced with yours. Vaguely, all too quickly, you realized that accepting his dashing-yet-blunt proposal wasn’t a fantasy.

Hurt bubbled up in your chest. Your eyes stung dully as you removed your hand from his. You checked his temperature: it was low. He was drunk. He was sitting on your couch with your smudged lip color on his. He did think you were engaged now, despite the fact that you were quickly realizing how bad that was.

Loki hurt you.

Loki hurt you real bad.

You couldn’t marry this man, no matter how much you might have wanted to those years ago. You never would have said yes! Loki just... he seemed so sad. He had never cried in front of you, not if you didn’t count Frigga’s funeral, and even then, that wasn’t anything like... well... that display. His tears were like salt in the wound, laughing right at you. You put some distance between the two of you. You cleaned his mouth off with your sleeve, wondering how on Earth you were going to explain this to Bucky.

Oh, no.

Bucky.

Bucky was going to have to hear Loki’s hungover insistance that you were now his fiancée. He was also going to have to hear about how you kissed Loki back. You had to be honest. You had to call your boyfriend. There was no skipping over the truth when you were dating a lawyer, no matter how much you wanted to avoid it.

It was better that he heard it from you rather than the ex boyfriend laying on your couch.

You dialed Bucky’s number. He picked up quickly. “Baby, are you okay?”

“Bucky, Loki came over,” you said quickly, “and he was drunk... he, uh, kissed me, and he proposed to me because apparently you were planning on asking me to marry you?” You swallowed, trying to think of how to redeem yourself. “I got so swept up with emotion from the past, I said yes, I didn’t mean to, but Loki was already crying and I needed him to calm down — he’s — he’s asleep, but if he starts getting protective by the time you come home, I’m so sorry—!”

“Wait,” Bucky said, cutting you off. “Baby, explain this again. Calmly, okay?” He didn’t sound too worried. Then again, this might be the quiet before the storm.

“Loki came by our house, drunk. He was crying, and I got nervous. He kissed me, proposed, and then asked me to marry him. I didn’t know what to do, so I said yes. I’m so, so sorry....”

“Well, you’re not going to marry him, are you?” he asked, sad humor slipping in. Your heart sank.

“I don’t know,” you mumbled. You didn’t mean to say it out loud, but hey? What could you do? You held the phone to your ear gingerly, keeping an eye on Loki’s sleeping form. “I-I mean, no. No.”

The anger slowly started to build. You understood it. You hoped he would be mad at you instead of Loki. “You don’t know? Or ‘no’? What is it?”

“James, it isn’t like that,” you protested. You bit your tongue and your cheek. If the world was perfect, you would have married Loki like you were set on. You would have had children with him, by now. As you spoke, you found you weren’t faced with the possibility of losing Bucky, but the possibility of throwing away your decade-old dreams. “I swear. I don’t want to marry anybody, right now. I don’t. I couldn’t.”

“Why couldn’t you? What if I did propose, Y/N?” Defensive. Protective. Angry. Hurt. Why? Had Loki been right? 

You hadn’t ever talked about marrying Bucky. You couldn’t imagine that life. “Bucky, can we save this for later?” you begged through the phone. “Please, I’m worried about Loki; he’s never drunk himself stupid before.” You scratched your neck. In your wildest dreams, you had never imagined falling back into Loki’s temptation.

You had finally woken up clean, and he had to try to bring you back down.

“Y/N?” he asked after a moment. Barnes sounded hollow. Hollow, but understanding. There was a shuffle over the phone and you couldn’t tell what it was. Was he leaving? Was he moving around? Would he forgive you?

“Yeah?” you managed. 

“You still love him. Don’t you?” 

Your tongue was glued to the roof of your mouth. Your tears welled up. No wonder you were able to be friends with Loki. No wonder you weren’t able to just forget about him. With an ocean of regret in your voice, you admitted, “I don’t want to.”

James sighed. “Okay. Well, we can talk things through at home... I know you didn’t mean for anything to happen, I know you’ve been as faithful as you can be. You wouldn’t be calling and crying otherwise.” He sniffed. “I shouldn’t have planned a proposal without clearing it with you. We haven’t talked about marriage.”

“Bucky, if I do ever marry, I don’t want you to worry if it’s you or Loki. I don’t even know if I want to marry anyone. Loki clearly has feelings for me, I can’t just pretend that I don’t have remaining feelings when he could very well keep coming by... Gosh.” You sat down in a chair. You looked at your left hand, which had no ring on it. It was bare. 

“I’ll head home,” Bucky said. “Sit tight. Bye.”

“Bye.” You hung up the phone. You held your head in your hands, silently cursing yourself for being the world’s biggest pushover. Your ex waltzed in, gave off a teary show, and then pleaded for your heart like he was on death row, and you listened. Were you an idiot? What kind of mistake were you making? Could you up and leave Bucky for some tool who could change his mind as quickly as he had four years ago?

You sat there for what seemed like hours; it was probably only one or two, considering how long Bucky’s firm was from your home. Your boyfriend eventually stepped through the door and pulled you into his arms, millions of apologies being swapped between the two of you. 

You sat at the table and talked for almost three hours. Every now and then, it was bordering an argument, but you both kept your cool. Bucky knew how hard you were trying to be there for him, to be his, but when it came down to it, you were always Loki’s. You had a raw wound. You knew how much Bucky wanted to be yours, but as it turned out, he was proposing because it seemed like what was expected of him. Through the conversation, you learned that maybe it was smarter to take a break, maybe stay roommates, and try to exist as friends again.

“If Loki makes you happy,” Bucky whispered, “then I think you should try again. He’s changed; he’s made changes for you. He’s been good to you. We’ve been barely getting by these past months.”

“I know,” you replied. “But I’m not going to turn around and just run after him. That’s not smart. You’re still in my life, Buck.”

“All I see is you,” he murmured.

“I know,” you said again.

Bucky stood up. “I’m going to stay at Steve’s tonight, doll. Um... make sure Loki has water when he wakes up. Give him a good tongue-thrashing for me.” He offered a weak smile.

You sniffled. “Take whatever you need. I’ll be up playing nurse — don’t worry about anything.”

Bucky nodded. “Got it.” He scratched his nose. “I’ll drop by in the morning and see if there’s anything I can help with.”

+-+--

When Loki woke up, the headache was the first thing he complained of. “Y/N?” he groaned. You were sitting next to him, hands tucked under your arms. You were gazing down at him, watching his face as his expression changed from pained to embarrassed. “Please tell me what happened was just a fever dream...”

You shook your head. “You proposed to me.”

“You said ‘yes’,” he breathed, slapping a hand to his forehead. “Oh, my Norns. I’m so sorry; you don’t have to marry me. I was an idiot. I shouldn’t have even come by — I walked from the bar, in the rain, with only the thought of taking you back...”

“I figured,” you chuckled lightly. You didn’t meet his eyes. You played with the hem of your shirt. “Bucky and I might break up, though. You told on him. His planned proposal, I mean.” 

“You aren’t breaking up because of me, are you?”

“No; not entirely. I’m still... You’re trouble, you know that? I’m going to get a reputation.”

“You need one,” Loki joked. “People will be less likely to take advantage of you, then. Odinson’s Wife — the Terrifying Maiden.”

“I’m no maiden,” you said, rolling your eyes. “I’m still upset from our breakup. That’s why Bucky and I are thinking about calling it quits. I wasn’t over you when I thought I was, so just shut up and drink some water.” You handed him a glass. “You can’t hold your liquor, you know.”

Loki took it gingerly. “Oh, I hate how well you know me,” he sighed, taking a long sip. “Do I get some aspirin?”

“No.” You crossed your arms. “You said you’ve been carrying Frigga’s ring in your pocket since she died?”

“I did?” He furrowed his brows. “That’s right, I did... I’ve been keeping it for you, I must admit.”

“You said.”

Loki sat up, taking your hand. “I have your picture in my wallet.”

“You what?” You blinked. “You didn’t say that.” You scooted a little closer. 

“Well, no, I didn’t; I didn’t need you to drop my glass heart, now, did I?” Loki smirked a little. “You know it always has been you, lover.”

“I’m not your lover,” you said exasperatedly. 

Loki kissed your cheek. Although you pushed him off once or twice, he managed to snake his arms around your waist and hang on you. “Not yet. I will marry you, whatever it takes.”

+-+--

Sidewalk chalk was an odd Christmas tradition with Thor’s kids. It was another three years after Loki’s drunken proposal, and you and Bucky eventually sorted it out and found you were both much, much happier. Bucky married Sarah Wilson, taking her two boys as his own stepchildren. You were still in the grey area with Loki, but you wouldn’t deny that you were about ready to scream if he didn’t at least try to pop the question.

“Y/N, darling, I brought you something!” Loki’s voice came from upstairs. Thor’s house was large, and the wife he had picked opted to be a stay-at-home mother while the toddlers were toddling. He poked his head out from the upstairs balcony and grinned at you like a madman. 

“What did you bring me?” you asked, arching your brow at your boyfriend-but-not-really. He stomped down the stairs, thrusting a little blue bag in your hands.

“I’ve brought glad tidings. I’ve come to free you~” he teased, poking your sides. “My undying affection. My most-ardent love for you—”

“—Can it, tell me what it is,” you said, cutting him off. Loki pulled you flush against his chest, peppering your cheek with kisses.

“I want you to imagine us... you, standing in a nice dress, me, staring at you staring at the sunset,” he whispered, lacing your fingers. “Happy Christmas, darling.”

“What is it?” you pressed, looking in the bag. It was a little picture of a house. “What?”

“That’s our home, sweetheart,” Loki said, resting his head on top of yours. “We’ll live there after the wedding, raise our children...”

“You’re still trying to get me to marry you?” you asked.

“We’ve been engaged for three years!” he scolded playfully. “Not even in your wildest dreams, I would not be trying to make you my wife.”

“What if I am your wife?”

“I’ll try to marry you again!” he laughed, kissing you sweetly. 

[earnestly-endlessly]

Hi! Please, I need help. I am desperate for Fanfiction with Erik and Charles arguing/fighting

Something a little angsty where maybe Erik exaggerates with his powers and risks to hurt Charles without meaning to

It could be also long, like over 70.000 words ... the longer the better ;)

I'd prefer it not to be an AU, but canonverse/fix it/canon divergent

Please help me🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻

Thank you @shonen-tiger for the ask. I'm terribly sorry how long this took me but I have really been thinking of fics that would fit your description best. It's a bit of a challenge when you have a request this specific, but there are a few I think you might enjoy with these elements.

Dark Flowers - Niphrehdil

Summary: When Charles is captured by a secret organization and used as a weapon for searching and destroying other mutants, Erik has to go after and save him. Erik keeps telling himself he does it only for the mutant kind. At least until he finds Charles.

Wake Up and Smell the Pancakes - Ayra Sei Ethari

Summary: In one universe, Wrik left Charles. In another, he stayed. So what happens when the two Eriks get switches? “At first, Erik thinks he’s dreaming. Then he realizes that this is Charles. Who is not paralyzed. And kissing him.

Count to Three – Harleydoll

Summary: Charles is psychologically damaged after experiencing Shaw's death in his own mind.

Seeing Sense – Ook

Summary: Emma didn't want to work with Erik, so Erik decided kidnapping his boyfriend Charles Xavier and holding him using a power suppressing collar would give hinm time to persaude Charles- gently, of course!- to Erik's school of thought re human-mutant relations. Because every group of mutants needs a telepath.

What he didn't know, and neither did anyone else, (apart from Charles) is that Charles' telepathy is intricately connected with his other senses; suppress his telepathy and he is deaf and blind...This is going to go so well, isn't it?

Unfinished Business – pocky_slash

Summary: It's March of 1963 and Charles Xavier's life seems to be falling into place. Sebastian Shaw is dead and he, Erik, Moira, and their team and young pupils are well on their way to opening their mutant school for fall enrollment.

Everything would be perfect if it wasn't for the childhood nightmares that Charles keeps accidentally projecting to the house, the odd dreams that leave him sleepwalking through corridors that haven't been used in decades, and the children's insistence that the house is haunted by a ghost that roams the halls at night. Erik thinks Charles is seeing things, Moira is afraid that the strange occurrences have something to do with the mysterious man trying to woo her, and Charles just wants proof that it's not all in his head.

The Succession of Events – alphera

Summary: Written for this prompt: "Bit of a spoiler, the movie makes it pretty obvious that Charles feels it as Erik kills Shaw. Even if they hadn't gone their separate ways, that's the sort of thing that would put a strain on the relationship. I want one of them breaking down in the other's arms, weeping. Obvious choice would be Charles, both from the shock of the pain itself, and from his overwhelming pity for the history that would drive a good man to do something like that. But I would be just as happy to see Erik slowly realize exactly what he's done to the man he loves, and have the horror absolutely wreck him.

What can we do without you? – swoopswoop

Summary: Charles and the boys were holding onto a secret more dear to them than their own lives when Charles disappears into the night; Erik is betrayed and finds himself returning to Westchester in the hopes that the government was just trying to trick him. All the while the boys are stuck in the middle, left guarding the secret from the man they are most afraid of finding out who is weaselling his way back into their lives alarmingly easily.

Lay down beside me (so still and so soft) – C_Gracewood

Summary: A different take on the events of the film.

Of Needles – Skull_Bearer

Summary: AU where everyone's born Dominant or Submissive

Once a Dominant and Submissive pair is born, they are linked to each other, no matter how far apart they are. This link doesn't actually tell the Dom or the Sub each other's thoughts, but it does allow them to know how the other's doing and serves as a reassurance that there's someone meant for them out there.

Another one of the reasons that Erik hates Shaw so badly is because Shaw managed to break Erik's link to his Sub. Now Erik doesn't even know if his Sub's alive because breaking a link like that can kill a Submissive.

Meanwhile, Charles hates himself for not yet having telepathy strong enough to contact and help his Dom, especially after feeling the pain his Dom was forced to go through. He truly believes that his Dominant is dead. Hopes it, some nights when he remembers how his Dom was forced to suffer. It's better than to think of his Dom still being forced to bear that pain.

And then Charles pulls Erik from the water

Rumor Has It – blueink3

Summary: "Did I hear the doorbell earlier?"

"Yeah, but I'd steer clear if I were you. It seemed a little tense. I don't know what's going on, but there's a kid out there who looks freakily like the prof."

Nearly six months after Cuba, Charles' life is turned upside down for the second time. Though he's slowly learning to adapt to the first, he's not sure he can handle the second. Luckily for him, there are a few people out there more than willing to help.

A Dangerous Game - pangea, ikeracity

Summary: When a familiar enemy of Erik's returns to the city for some old-fashioned revenge, Charles is sucked deeper into the world of the mob than ever before.

Note: I know you specifically stated that you didn’t want AUs but this fic does actually fit the bill quite nicely in many ways, so I decided to add this one as well.

[simpingforsoftboys]

Too Little Too Late

ft. IwaOi

G/N reader

TW: Neglect, manipulation, toxicity in general, swearing

Read this first

tysm for the request anon! It’s about time Y/n stood up for themselves don’t you think? That’s the thing about relationships like these. It’s so hard to get out of them once you’re in deep- even if you can see every single red flag clear as day.

Also I’ve decided that since these are lengthy- there will be separate parts for Kuroken, SakuAtsu, and OsaSuna in the future.

 This one is something I actually turned into a two shot: part one and part two. So same plot line, just goes more in depth on the “break up” part.

This was it, you were finally going to do it. After two decades of following your soon to be ex boyfriends around, it was time for you to step out of their shadow- into the limelight of independency. Still, you felt like a coward- leaving them while neither were even in the country. It was petty perhaps, but deep down within your heart- the vindictive, evil, and cruel part of you whispered that this was what they deserved. You were nearly finished packing- two suitcases stuffed to the max with your clothing and any small, expensive purchase you bought for yourself. Now all you needed to do was shove anything else that could fit into your duffel bag. 

This wasn’t a new idea. Leaving them that is. In fact, you’d been thinking about it for years already. Honestly, you doubted you’d have even begun noticing just how unbalanced your current dynamic with your two “lovers” was, until a stranger- turned friend had pointed it out. 

His name had been Miya Atsumu- he had gone to Tokyo University just like you and was the starting setter for their volleyball team. He was flirty at first, acting like a stereotypical frat boy. Despite telling him you had not one- but two partners- he hadn’t left you alone at that fateful party. 

“Wait... yer datin’ that newbie setter from Argentina? AND Iwaizumi... the one who’s boutta transfer over to that American university?” Atsumu questioned incredulously, nearly doing a spit take, he leans over your figure and places his red solo cup down on the counter behind you. 

“Yeah... I know it’s not a normal relationship-” You begin, already used to defending you and your lovers. 

“Nah, that’s not what I’m sayin’ darlin.” The blonde replies, his words make him seem as though he’s hitting on you but somehow there’s an undertone of genuine concern. “Neither of em have even spared ya a glance since ya got here! Seems like they’re the ones in love- not the three of ya.”

You had frowned at his words, shaking them off easily. The three of you were in love, besides, no stranger could have deduced that at first glance- if anything he was just trying to meddle in your happy relationship... so why did his words continue to plague you that night, and for many nights after that? 

Looking back on it now, you should have listened to Atsumu sooner. 

You had countless discussions with Hajime and Toru after the night of the party. They had seemed genuinely sorry and made an effort to be more inclusive. However, they slowly fell back into old habits- time and time again- as if they had forgotten the promises they had made. 

There would be no more discussions, no more nights staying up, waiting for them to come back home from their date. 

There would be no more of the three of you- just Hajime and Toru. 

That thought prevented you from picking up the framed photo on your bedside- the one of you three. It had been taken at a children’s festival that the three of you had taken Takeru too. It was probably the last photo where you had been so blinded by your love for them that you completely glossed over the fact that the only people they were looking at were each other. 

“Y/n... what are you doing?” A raspy voice called from the bedroom’s doorway, startling you from your memories. Body shaking, you turned around to face the owner of the voice. “We came home early to surprise you... only to find you packing your bags?” 

The same two people that you didn’t want to see stood before you. Both toted suitcases and smelt like the airport. You couldn’t find it within yourself to look them in the eyes, fearing that if you did you’d lose your strength, turn around, and begin unpacking.

“Y/n... prince(ss), what’s going on? Talk to us.” Toru whispered, speaking to you as if you were a cornered animal. That analogy wasn’t wrong per say but it did nothing to help you calm your nerves. 

You knew it shouldn’t have but for some reason his tone had made your heart skip a beat.

“Yeah babe, let’s put the bags down and take a seat... we can talk about this right after me and Toru shower.” Hajime agreed, his poor choice of words stirring anger within your soul- intense and smoldering like Zeus’s lightning bolts.

“No!” You cry, tears of pent up anger, hurt, and every other negative repressed emotion, begins to well up in your eyes. “I’m going to say this one last time- then I’m going to leave. We won’t talk. I’m not going to... to wait until you finish showering. I’m sick and tired of this- this absolute fucking BULLSHIT!” 

They stare at you wide eyed, not quite knowing how to respond. You don’t even give them the chance to think about how to do so- instead you opt to continue your rant. 

“I love you two so damn much. So, so much- to the point that it hurts me.” Your gaze flickered between the two of them. “Loving you... it breaks my heart. I can’t do it anymore Toru, Hajime. I wanted too- God knows I do. But I can’t keep doing this-”

Toru lets his carry on drop to the floor and races over, attempting to embrace you in a hug. Every bone, every fiber, literally every part of you is begging you to stay trapped in his arms. He’s warm and he’s here. It’s all you’ve ever wanted. 

Too little too late.

You shove him off, biting back sobs. Hajime hurries behind him, catching the taller male as he falls. 

“Y/n calm down what’s going on? What did we do?” Olive green eyes flit over to meet yours, they’re just as lovely as they have always been. But you notice that they’re also cold, like jade bracelets and old watered down matcha tea. 

“It’s what you didn’t do Haji.” You say and they can see the heart ache on your face. “I love you but you don’t love me- not as much as I love you at least.” Both of them look like they want to argue but you shake your head- effectively silencing them. The picture on the night stand stares back at you tauntingly- ignorance was indeed bliss it seems. Grasping it lightly you place it on the ground and kicked it gently, letting it slide over to where Toru and Hajime are still seated on the ground. The brunette takes it in his hands and examines it. 

“This was when we took Takeru to the children’s festival!” 

“Yeah... we were so happy then... where did that go wrong Y/n? When did you stop smiling like this?” Hajime whispers. 

“I stopped smiling like that when I realized the truth- about us.” They watch as you take a deep breath, composing yourself. “It took me a long while, but I’ve been coming to terms with it.” A choked gasp escapes your lips, leading you to quickly spill the rest of your well kept insecurities. “This... this thing we have going on- it’s a toxic, endless cycle. There’s no us- it’s just Hajime and Toru plus Y/n.”

Toru’s expression morphs from empathetic to down right murderous. He’s offended that you would dare imply something like that. Deep down, you’re sure he knows you’re actually right, and he’s just acting like that to save his pride. A pang of shame hits you- when had you begun thinking mean thoughts like that?

“How could you say that?” He spits, tone devoid of sweetness, now replaced with lethal venom. “Everything we do is for you. We give you money, this nice home, space, time- our love. And you have the fucking gall to say we’re ostracizing you from our relationship? What the hell are you thinking Y/n?” 

You’ve never seen him this angry- not in all the years you’ve known the setter. It sorta terrifies you. Hajime doesn’t bother to reprimand Toru for his tone like usual, instead he looks like he agrees with him. 

“He’s right Y/n, everything we do is for you. Are you mad because we didn’t take you to a wedding? Guess what- that’s just business. Stop being so damn jealous for no reason. You can’t be selfish in our sort of relationship. Didn’t you know that in the first place?” 

They don’t- won’t see things from your point of view. Honestly, what were you even expecting.

“When have I EVER been selfish? I cook, clean, and practically orbit around the two of you. I’m not mad just because of a FUCKING WEDDING! I’m upset- and hurt because you can’t ever see from my eyes. Don’t think I haven’t seen the differences between the looks you give me verses each other. The date nights you forget to include me in- the stolen kisses in the morning you give each other without even thinking about me. Even when I try to initiate something I’m ‘too clingy’ or you’re ‘too busy.’ FUCK THAT. I deserve better. So I think I deserve to be selfish just this once- because this is something I need to do for me. Not for you.” 

They’re stunned, unable to speak. So they say nothing at all, watching you zip up your duffel bag and single handedly take all your baggage out into the living room by yourself. Neither of them say anything when there’s a knock on the door and they can hear your best friend enter their home and help you take your stuff down to their car. 

There’s nothing they can do. So they go to bed without showering, thinking about the things you said and reflecting. You made it quite clear to them. It’s over- the three of you.

[anjuschiffer]

The Fabric Roll Of Fate

So this has been sitting in my WIPs since October of last year... Finally had the time to finish it up! More like I couldn’t sleep so I finally worked on it

Hope you enjoy it!

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Tag: @theatreandcomicfreak @damianette-is-life @toodaloo-kangaroo (welcome to the permanent taglist!)

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It was one of those random family outings, one of those moments that Damian was reluctantly dragged to

He just wanted to stay home and train for the upcoming fencing tournament in his school, one of the few things that Damian looked forward to in the school year

Yet here he was, being held captive and listening to Garyson talk for the umpteenth time about his daughter’s latest adventure

Finding an opening, Damian slips off, walking through alleyways to escape his family, eventually arriving to the fashion district of Gotham

He decides to enter the first store he sees, seeing as his hands were starting to get cold

He hated Gotham’s chilly and cold seasons. Spring was his favorite season.

As he ventures inside the store, he starts to look at the fabric inside, now wondering why fashion designers were so picky with their fabrics

It was when he saw two identical rolls of fabric that he decided to investigate for his answer

As he runs his hands across two white fabrics (linen and velvet), he notices the slight differences, not noticing that he was starting to mumble his observations

It was then that his hand bumps into someone else’s Damian turning to see a girl his age.

“Sorry! I didn’t mean to bother you!” She quickly apologizes. “You were probably in your zone and-”

“I was simply looking at them. You didn’t interrupt anything.”

Damian watches as the girl relaxes and smiles at him.

“I see. Well, if you need any help, I’d be happy to help! Is there a certain reason you’re-”

“I was thinking of hiring someone to make me a suit for an upcoming event-” Damian attempted to lie (although he technically didn’t as his family was looking for one...not like he was going to tell them about the one he just found), taken aback when the girl looked at him with twinkling eyes. What was going on

“A suit? So I’m guessing a tux, but if you want something to make you standout- but I think you don’t want that, huh?” She begins to look him up and down, quickly mumbling some numbers to herself. “Black or any dark color would suit you, but having emerald accents-no! Gold accents would suit you better.” Damian remains silent as she circles him, not once placing a hand on him. “Shawl collars, traditional or modern could work. Definitely single breast, maybe tail-oh god no. No tails.” Damian watched as her eyes filled with happiness. “A cumberbund would definitely suit you. That’s where I can place the gold!”

Damian kept listening as the girl kept listing ideas to herself, watching with awe as she kept the ideas coming, eventually snapping out of his trance when she presented him a card.

“If you don’t mind, I’d like to make that suit. Of course! The decision is yours if you’d allow me to make it.” He watches as the girl points to a phone number and email address in rose gold. “Give me a call, text or email if you decide to accept my offer. See ya!”

Damian is left dumbfounded as he watches her go and pick some fabric rolls, purchase them and then leave.

“What just happened?”

Damian looks at the all black card in his hand. On one side was the phone number and email. On the other, the letters M D C were on the card, a single line going through the three letters. Simple, yet elegant.

Damian ends up accepting the offer, setting to meet the girl that Friday afternoon after his classes.

When his family attempts to tag along, he tells them no, setting on going alone.

“Welcome to my humble home.” She greets him after picking him up (she insisted despite Damian saying he had his own mode of transport) at the rendezvous and then to her flat. He was faced with one of Gotham’s most expensive penthouses, Damian wondering who exactly was this girl who can afford one of his father’s expensive hotels.

“Do you...live by yourself?”

“Yup! Although my uncle- oh! How can I forget?” The girl says, closing the door behind her. “Sorry for the late introduction! My name’s Marinette. The one behind the upcoming brand MDC. I’m currently here for a commission. Although, by the looks of it, I might end up staying here in Gotham.”

He’s heard of her, the decade’s youngest designer in the fashion world, or so he’s heard.

“Now, let’s start with getting your measurements, shall we?”

One visit became two, to then various

And they were mainly never about his suit that she was making him.

He didn’t know why he found him attracted to her place...to her

But simply felt at home with her

He quickly learns everything about her. Her old school life, her friends, her ex, her parents, hobbies, and old commissions. 

At first he thought she graduated early from highschool because of her bully, but it turns out that it was because she already had all her requirements done and seeing that there was no other reason to stay, she left. Also, having more time is what she needed if she wanted to succeed in the fashion world. So when her uncle (who he learns is Jagged Stone) offered her a hand, she took it and came to Gotham.

But Damian didn’t just listen, he also talked about himself

About Titus, his family, his fencing tournament. His opinions on Selina. His mixed feelings about his mother.

His family kept trying to follow him, but they have yet to figure out where he would go every other afternoon and evening.

Months pass, the suit already done and ready to be worn, but it still wasn’t the day of the Gala yet. But even then, Damian still stopped by, often times letting Marinette use him as a mannequin and dress form

Sometimes they would continue to talk about their mundane lives or things from the past that still ate at them, anything for Damian to simply listen to her voice because while he didn’t fully accept it, he knew he had feelings for her.

A scene that happens:

“And the worst part was that Alya knew she was lying. Lila was definitely not there because Alya was there. She was the one who saw Ladybug capture the akuma not Lila. Lila wasn’t anywhere near Paris when it even happened!” Marinette huffed as she tippy toed to make sure she was measuring the correct portion of Damian’s back. 

Damian felt her presence ever so close to him, causing him to panic. Yes, he only allowed her to invade his personal space, but this was too much for his heart. 

The aroma of baked goods always radiated from her and being this close only made Damian want to become obsessed with the smell even more. 

“So even with that in mind, this Alya decided to take the other girl’s stance?” Marinette let out a sigh, walking in front of Damian and throwing the tape measure around his neck, causing him to tense up. 

“Yeah, and I guess that’s what really made me snap to reality when it came to Alya.” Mari frowned at that, tightening the tape closer to each other to get a collar measure. 

Lord, did she have no idea how much restraint Damian had to put himself under for just wanting to kiss her right now, but he knew better than than. 

He took her hands away from the tape, noticing her eyes lacking that shine they usually carry when she’s in the crafting zone. He looked at her hands, covered in calluses and a few sewing mishaps. Even when they were covered in painful memories, Marinette hands were still gentle. “What’s gentle?” 

Damian’s breath hitched, realizing that he said that last part out loud. 

“You are.” Damian said, bringing her hands to his lips to kiss. Damian couldn’t help but feel victorious at the sight of Marinette glowing pink. “You’re a gentle and kind person. She doesn’t deserve your kindness if she was willing to quickly push you aside like that.”

Marinette looked straight at Damian before throwing herself into his chest, almost causing him to tip back. “Thank you, Damian.”

A few days were left until the gala, and it just had to be that time when his stupid brothers found out about his meetings with Marinette (and him coning to terms that he absolutely loves her)

“A girl, huh?” Jason would tease while Dick tried to gathering more information about Damian’s “friend”

“She’s simply designing my suit for-”

“The gala. Sure Lil’ D.” Grayson would say before wanting to pry more information from him. 

“Why don’t you invite her to the gala?” Bruce proposes, Damian no thinking about it

“Maybe I will.” He regrets saying

And Marinette ends up saying yes, now panicking about what to wear

“What about that dress?” Damian points to her almost completed black dress.

A high collared black dress with long sleeves was what Damian was referring to. With an open back and skirt that fell to the ground, it’s golden accents by the collar that ran across the chest...it would match his own all black suit with golden accents at the shoulders and cumberbund. 

“That.. that could actually work.”

Time skip to the gala, where when the two arrive, they steal the spotlight because not only did Damian arrive with a date, but she was stunning. Despite being three inches taller than him, Marinette was perfect by his side

“So Damian, what’s her name and how’d you meet this girl?” Jason asked first, but to Dick’s annoyance.

“Her name’s Marinette Dupain-Cheng, the one behind both of our attires.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you Miss Dupain-Cheng.” Bruce manages to say despite being surprised by Damian’s new development.

“So how-” Tim attempted to ask, but marinette cut him off.

“We met at a fabric store. A fabric roll brought us together.”

The night goes on, with it ending by Marinette asking Damian to be her boyfriend. (Damian then also reveals that he was also going to ask her to be his girlfriend)

“Of course.” He says, having to stretch to kiss her, glad to have gone into that fabric store that day.

Sure, it was weird, but Damian was glad to day that a single fabric roll decided their fate of meeting each other.