#and by part he's sassing them and eating their food until he can figure out how to turn back

[the-witchhunter]

DP x DC: The Titans and the Phantom Cat

Danny doesn't do magic. He doesn't understand it or really know about it, and frankly he'd be more skeptical about it if it hadn't explicitly been used on him several times before. His parents are scientists and engineers, and they managed to accomplish what would typically fall under the realm of magic with nothing but recycled parts, wires and Fenton ingenuity.

So, when caught in a magic spell to bind him, he didn't know what would happen if he were to intentionally mess it up. Apparently, nothing good. Danny, free from the intended mind control, is now bound to the form of a cat with minimal use of his powers.

How could this get any worse?

Turns out, no one seems to understand what he's saying, they just hear meows. And without the use of his powers, he get's caught and finds himself in an animal shelter in Jump City.

When a group of young heroes comes through on a mission, and then proceed to mess things up, Danny can't help but throw out some snide commentary. Besides, it's not like they'll hear him

Welllllll... Turns out Raven and Beast Boy can tell what the hell he's saying. Of course the magic user and guy who can turn into animals can talk to him... Still it's nice to finally have someone to talk to, and also get him out of the cage while he's still trying to het a hold of what's left of his powers

Raven immediately clocks him as a powerful spirit bound to animal form. With a little persuasion, she ends up with a new familiar consultant and Danny the Cat gets to live in Titans Tower with them

or

Magic shenanigans happen, now Danny is basically Salem the Cat living with the Teen Titans and teaching them what he knows while mainly lounging around and sassing them. The actual usefulness of his advice may vary

#dpxdc #dp x dc #dp x dc crossover #Danny is a cat #Danny is now 'part' of the teen titans #and by part he's sassing them and eating their food until he can figure out how to turn back #kind of think that only raven knows his form isn't supposed to be a cat #like they communicated the fact he's a powerful spirit #but everyone assumes he was always a cat and it's just his powers that were affected #just him gradually getting his powers back and walking through walls and freaking the teen titans out by sneaking up on them #He's actually pretty useful when it comes to ghost stuff #and dealt with the ghost mice situation #which was oddly specific #he suspects clockwork was behind that

[ronearoundblindly]

The Book of Steve Rogers (2 of 2)

Steve Rogers x f!reader from Fools Rush In series (read Part 1 here)

Summary: You and Steve exchanged moving-in-together gifts by surprise. Now it's time to unpack what they mean and explore your new digs.

Warnings: smuuuuuutt, per usual very loving but explicit, MINORS DNI

[For @whiskeytangofoxtrot555--You still deserve all. the. fluff. but whoops there's smut, too.] Dividers by @firefly-graphics

Steve keeps sneaking little glances over to you while you eat. His smile is tight to his teeth like he’s holding back a grin. It’s cheeky and flirtatious and really distracting.

“What,” you finally chirp, fighting the urge to flick food at him for his sass.

For such a broad guy, Steve’s self-conscious shrug is delicate. His cheeks are stained pink as he bumbles around an explanation. “Nothing, it’s just…”

“Just what? Is it a good thing or are you about to make fun of me?” You’re not sure you can take it at this point. You poured too much of your heart and soul into capturing the Steve Rogers you know in text, and if he’s about to say it’s too silly, you’ll chuck that thing in the compactor right now.

“No, Keeps—“ then very seriously “—never.” Steve puts down his takeout. “I’ve…been telling the same stories for so long, and people have written some down before. People have analyzed them before, sure, but…I don’t know how to explain it, honey. You. You listened to me and then used your voice to…preserve me or something. Except it’s you. From what I did read, it’s you preserving the best of me. I sound funny and friendly in there, not like some superhero and national icon. You made me sound…just like some guy, and I hardly ever feel that way anymore.

“Except when I’m around you.”

You beam across the tiny table at him. “Well, when you put it like that,” you trail off. It’s sweet and inarticulate, but you know what he’s trying to say.

He wants to tell you that you don’t have to make him look good. He knows who he is in real life, but truthfully, Steve’s wrong. He only calculates in his grand gestures, his sweeping morals, and his century of consistency. You, however, have seen him adapt, learn, and pivot to a multitude of itty-bitty situations. He may not remember them, but you do. He does it because Steve values people—that’s his overarching mantra—but Steve also takes an outrageous amount of his time to make people feel valuable. He shows others what they have that he doesn’t.

It’s such a small, rare thing—his ability to see differences as an asset—but Steve Rogers is a rare bird.

“I don’t feel as pretty as I look in that painting—” you grab his hand and give it a squeeze “—but I guess I’ll just have to accept that’s how I look in your eyes.”

“Better,” he whispers, eyes locked on yours for a long moment, a tell-tale darkening to their rich blue shade as the seconds tick by.

Uh, god, you two have so many rooms to christen—

“Shit! I forgot to toss the sheets in the wash.” You bolt out of the chair and rush to the bed. You’d both figured that they should stay on until any moving dust could be laundered off, with the added bonus of fragrant, fresh bedding on your first night in your new home, your first home together, but then you got sidetracked by printing out the book while Steve hauled boxes. At this rate, it’ll all barely be dry before dinner.

Steve comes to help you gather sheets, blankets, and pillowcases, watching you fuss unnecessarily in what he has previously called ‘the adorable typhoon.’ He leans against the doorframe of your new personal laundry room as you animatedly stuff fabric down to the bottom of the washer.

“Ya know, beating stuff clean is more a my generation tactic,” he drawls.

“Hardy-har, big guy—“ you fling some hair out of your face “—but I’m just looking to ensure a nice place for us to, ya know, lay our heads later.”

Steve snorts at the wiggle of your eyebrows.

“Uh-huh, I see,” he says.“You know, I adjusted the painting because art isn’t necessarily idealized moments or actual snapshots. I think of it more like a representation of all you are over hundreds of little moments. We’re not perfect, but we’re striving—“ he steps forward to pull you against him “—we succeed and we fail.” Steve dramatically tosses his head back and forth. “Private. Public. United and individuals.

“I even thought about how you would want me to be perceived in it,” he grandstands, talking with his hands, “and that really added this depth and emotionality.

As deadpan as you can possibly manage, you huff, “quit being so pretentious, Steve. We both know you’ve never analyzed art that way in your life.”

His coy smile proves you right.

“I thought it was pretty good—“ he leans down to kiss your nose “—thinking of a domestic scene next.”

“Uh-huh.” You tip in the detergent while he shuts the lid and turns the dial.

“Could use a life model for that…”

The whir of rushing water starts.

“I suppose,” you bluster through a chuckle, “you’ll just place me where you want me then.” You weren’t expecting his immediate and intense answer.

“That’s the idea.”

The timbre of his voice sends a shiver through your chest and clenches your thighs. Oftentimes, Steve still doesn’t really know the effect he has on you. It’s almost criminal how easily he can weaken your every reserve, but that’s what makes him the master of relaxing you, too.

Today though, right now, he fucking knows his effect.

His hand at the small of your back flexes its fingers wide and gently presses you nearer and nearer. His other arm reaches behind him to shut the door of the laundry room. With a heavy click, you’re isolated. Even in the otherwise empty apartment, this still feels…showy. The space is new and spotless, and something in Steve’s stare screams ‘it’s about to get dirty.’

The water finishes filling the basin, and the spinning starts. The thud thud thud of the agitator is joined by the thud of your ass on the washer’s lid. Steve’s hands work to lift you fast and spread you slowly. His touch glides back and forth on your thighs, tantalizingly creeping up your sides (where, of course, he thumbs across the sides out your breasts, flicking at your well-covered nipples), and landing behind your neck to cradle your head.

“Welcome home,” Steve whispers before taking your lips with chaotic force.

This guy. This fucking guy. That’s not a domestic project. That’s a kink. So, hell yeah, you’re looking forward to ‘cleaning’ every inch of the place now. Do closets could as rooms? How big are the floors in there? Did you do your stretches today?

Then Steve’s hand drags back between your legs, firmly tracing up and down your clothed core to a slow version of the washer’s pounding rhythm. There’s just enough give in the material to tease you unbearably, and you whimper into his mouth.

Steve’s gotten better—infinitely better—at taking charge during sex that isn’t just plain ol’ vanilla missionary. He’s branched out slowly and added a few tricks to his repertoire, but mostly Steve dedicates himself to expertise in a few things. He’s a quality over quantity man. Always has been.

You’re pulled back to the feel of him when Steve nips at your bottom lip.

“Lean back for me, love.”

Aye, aye, Captain.

Dutifully nimble fingers make quick work of your bottoms, and he sucks on the sliver of exposed skin at your hip while you lift cheek-by-cheek to help him pull off the garment. Steve’s not playing around today; he’s taken your underwear, too, in one fell swoop.

Circled around the back of one thigh, his arm pulls at you, face lifted and leaning forward in anticipation of you scooting to the edge of the vibrating pedestal beneath you. Another kiss, this one deeper and a little sloppier because Steve’s getting ready. His tongue is just getting warmed up.

You break away with a gasp when his thumb crazes the inside of your thigh, inches away from where you just need one spark to set your whole body on fire. He takes his cue to drop down to his knees.

Steve likes a lingering, exploratory approach to eating you out. He lets his lips test the ticklishness at the crease of your hips, his teeth (very gently) rake over your labia, and the tip of his tongue traces the perimeter of your folds. He inventories every fleeting response. He’s a strategist through and through, and he loves details. Off to one side of your clit is more sensitive than the other. Naturally, one of your legs is more flexible to pushing wider (stretching daily is important and you gotta keep remembering that), so he knows which way he can angle himself the best.

No one’s ever written music like this with your body before. Steve’s the world leader in playing this particular instrument, and yet he loves to practice his craft.

You’re shaking too soon, pushed faster towards the edge of orgasm by the rumbling washer under you. The control panel digs at your shoulder blades, but you don’t care. Covered by the noise, you’re a mess of moans and whimpers, twitching uncontrollably until Steve abruptly stops and a cry rips out of your throat before you can coherently contain it.

The flat of his fingers replaces his mouth while he shoves down his pants. His shirt is, of course, tight enough to stay rolled higher up his rippling abs, so it’s only a few seconds before he presses himself to you, cock flush against your folds and wet fingers painting the top side of his length with your arousal.

He aligns the thick head with your entrance and pushes just enough to hold steady instead of bouncing back to his stomach. His thumb finds your clit this time, setting a pace that’s bound to rocket you to the moon at light speed, but Steve still doesn’t enter you. That beacon of self-control pulses against you, adding only a repeated fraction of pressure along all the nerves across your cunt. He’s less than an inch in at any time, but you feel it everywhere. The hot tension in your gut spreads throughout your body, numbing all thoughts except ‘fuuuck.’

It’s coming. You’re coming, and in those precious few moments before the high crests, Steve pumps inside farther and farther until he’s fully sheathed by your spasming walls. He rocks his pelvis against you while the electricity charging through you dissipates.

The harsh and wonderful tensing in your muscles pokes the planes of the machine into you, and the smooth surface sticks to your skin. Gravity pulls at parts of you suctioned onto the metal. You’re scrambling to adjust until Steve takes over again, lifting you by the arch of your back and behind your neck. Your legs instinctively wrap around his hips.

His eyes have that boyish glint as Steve practically collapses backward, his back against the wall, thrusting up into you without pattern.

You can’t help but steal his lips again. You’re a sucker for the disheveled hair and goofy grin. Steve looks happy and home, and this is his welcome gift, too.

“Sit,” you whisper between wet kisses, and he does as commanded.

You sink to the ground, beginning to ride him even before your knees hit the floor, and it’s Steve’s turn to whine into your hot mouth.

It took a long time for Steve to understand that he can be completely enveloped by you, all of his senses filled, when you ride him. He can reach out and taste you, watch you move and hear your every breath and heartbeat. He can take it all in while you take him in. Sometimes, he has no idea why he thought having control was better before. He also has a soft spot for hearing you scream profanities when you’re about to come.

He never says it out loud, but he’d die before correcting that behavior.

Today is a particularly shattered ‘fuck’ that will probably make a reappearance in a wet dream or two, and the clench of your sex drags him right over with you.

You’re a sweating mess, bra wedged beneath your breast while your shirt still covers you, wet patches where he laved at your nipples without releasing his grip on your ass. You’re panting and leaning back, trying to catch your breath before crashing to his chest.

“Be honest,” you rasp to Steve, “did you think this was gonna be the first room we, uh, broke in?”

His nose forges a path up your neck and behind your ear for his lips to follow. “Honey, if you hadn’t brought food, I’d have taken you on the table.”

“Like my present that much, did you?”

He nuzzles you in response, tugging you into a hug that shifts his cock loose. For once, he lets the spend drip down him and doesn’t care.

Your wiggling eyebrows are back. “You wanna, ya know, hang the painting? The living room needs some…decoration.”

He’s a toothy grinned doofus, melted at the edges while he stares and tucks your disheveled hair behind your ear. “We actually could,” Steve hums, “we can do this all day…if you want.”

It’s not really a difficult proposal to ponder, but you have one concern.

“Just to be clear though, none of this will be making it into my book.”

He laughs, hearty and deep. It shakes you against him, and you squeal in delight. They’re the perfect sounds of home. The place is official now.

A beep sounds behind you. The washing's done, and it's time to flip it over…

@im-a-slut-for-fluff @fangirl-swagg @georgeweaslysgirl @austynparksandpizza @bucky-fricking-barnes-reads @fallinallinmendes

#fools rush in #steve rogers #fanfic #steve x reader #steve rogers fic #steve rogers fanfiction #steve x you #series #fluff and feels #fluff and romance #steve rogers fluff #steve rogers smut #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x reader smut #steven grant rogers #steve rogers fanfic #captain america fanfiction #captain america x reader #captain america x you

[eternalsimp]

Cursed Fears (pt 3)

Genre: Hurt/comfort, smut

Word Count: 5117

Warnings: NSFW 18+, aged up Megumi, swearing, use of female pronouns and anatomy, very jealous Megumi, rough sex, praise kink, overstimulation, slight orgasm denial, some degradation, spanking if you squint, oral sex (m. receiving), marking. Minors DNI.

Author Note: This is the final (?) part of a JJK mini-series I did but it can be read as a stand-alone. Parts 1 & 2 are up on my blog (IDK how to make links)

You were pulled from sleep with the sound of your phone vibrating on the bedside table next to you. You crack your eyes open to take in your surroundings for a minute and try to ignore the insistent buzzing of your phone. Mid Morning sunlight is streaming through the open window, casting a blanket of warmth in the otherwise cold room. Megumi's divine dog has moved off the bed and is laying under the window where it can’t be disturbed by the light. Megumi has his face buried in your neck, arms still wrapped tightly around your torso, and you can feel his warm breath fan out against your skin.

Your phone starts to ring again and you carefully move to grab it, trying not to disturb your sleeping boyfriend. You turn it to see Nobara’s name and picture displayed across your screen and debate sending her to voicemail. You decide against it, knowing she would just call you again.

“Hello?” You stifle a yawn and hear Megumi grumble incoherently behind you.

“Y/n! I’ve been trying to get a hold of you all morning! Are you avoiding us?” You pull the phone away from your ear to try and escape her scolding. You turn your attention to the clock on the bedside table showing that it was a little after 10 am.

“I was sleeping, I’m not avoiding you, psycho. And who is us?”

“Oh yeah, Itadori and I are hanging out. We are actually pretty close to where you and Fushiguro live which is why I was calling. Wait, didn’t you have class this morning?”

“I’m kinda playing hooky, Megumi, and I didn’t go to bed until pretty late and I wanted to sleep in.” Out of annoyance, Megumi grabs your phone out of your hand and rolls onto his back before pressing it to his own ear.

“What do you want Kugisaki?” His voice is still heavy with sleep, and you would normally swoon from how deep it was, but you were too distracted by him interrupting your conversation. You roll over to lay your head on his chest and nudge the phone away from his face to click the ‘speaker’ button so you can hear what Nobara is saying.

“... and you’ve been hogging all of my best friends' time lately so what I’m thinking is you and Itadori can hang out so her and I can have a girls day.” You can hear Yuji in the background correcting that you were both of their friends and he wants to hang out too.

“Well seeing as how we are both still in bed, it’s probably gonna be a while,” Megumi says flatly, probably hoping she’ll drop it and be content with just Yuji’s company.

“Ooohh, am I interrupting something fun?” You can hear her words dripping in sarcasm, wanting to fluster you and Megumi. Your boyfriend however decides he has other plans.

He cocks an eyebrow down at you, “yeah actually you are,” and pinches your thigh to elicit a sharp gasp from you. You bolt into a sitting position and feel your face heat up with embarrassment. Nobara is sputtering on the other side of the line and you swat his hand away from you as he sits up too and tries to pull you back against him.

“Megumi Fushiguro! Give me that!” You snatch your phone back and shove him off the bed, his body landing with a hard thud on the floor. “Sorry, he woke up in a bratty mood apparently.”

“Fushiguro? Being playful? I never thought I’d see the day!” Nobara snickered over the phone. You leaned over the side of the bed to see Megumi pouting at you and you stick your tongue out at him childishly.

“It’s a blessing and a curse. Anyways, give me like an hour and we can all meet up for lunch or something.”

“Yay! Let me know when you leave and we can find somewhere to meet in the middle!”

You hang up the phone and Megumi lunges off the floor and tackles you onto the bed. He rolls the two of you so he is laying on top of you and you are effectively pinned under his body weight. He lays his head on your chest and wraps his arms around your waist as you struggle to push him off of you. “I just wanna spend like ten more minutes in bed with my beautiful girlfriend.” He turns his face up to give you a pleading look and you sigh in defeat.

He grins triumphantly and rests his head back on your chest. You run your fingers through his dark hair to smooth it out as much as you can where it had been ruffled from sleep. After you feel satisfied with the strands you can reach you start tracing over the contours of his face, appreciating how angelic the light from the window makes him look.

Feeling your movements still, he cracks an eye open to see you staring at him. He narrows his eyes accusingly at you, “why are you staring? Weirdo.”

“Cause you’re pretty,” you hum contently and kiss his forehead. He buries his face into your shoulder and groans.

“You make me sound like such a girl.”

“Boys can be pretty,” you pull his face between your hands and kiss his face. “You’ve got pretty eyes, and pretty lashes, and a pretty mouth, even if there's a lot of sass coming out of it.” He rolls his eyes, moves to lay higher up on your body, and stuffs his face into the pillow next to your head. You laugh at the way the tips of his ears turn pink with embarrassment and decide to let up on your teasing.

After a lot of pouting and complaining from your boyfriend, you finally pull him out of bed and convince him to get dressed to go to lunch. You tuck a loose burgundy sweater into a pair of black high-waisted leggings, smirking at the way you catch Megumi staring at how the pants hug your curves. He layers a dark blue windbreaker over a grey hoodie and a pair of jeans. Both of you opted for sneakers since you figured you’d probably be walking around a lot.

He pulls you into a hug and makes his last attempt at talking you into staying home and watching a movie instead. You notice he gags slightly at the smell of your perfume before quickly trying to cover it with a cough. You make a mental note to buy a new one while out with Nobara before denying his request to ditch your friends. He rolls his eyes, gives you a firm peck on the lips, and leads you out the door of your home.

The ramen house Nobara and Yuji decided they wanted to try is in a large shopping district walking distance from your apartment, so you and Megumi decided to enjoy the nice weather after the storm. You barely register the sound of Yuji's voice before you are being spun around by your overexcited friend. “Be careful before you break her!” You can't help but laugh at how Nobara scolds him before he plants you firmly back on the ground but still holds you in a bruising hug.

“Yuji, I just talked to you last night!”

“Okay, but I still haven’t seen you in what feels like forever cause you’re always at school.” Yuji pushes his lip out in a pout before finally releasing you so you can hug Nobara too.

“Well, I’m sorry I have to go to stupid, normal person university cause I’m not cool enough to be a cursed energy user.” You reach out and pinch Yuji's arm causing him to flinch back away from you and pout harder.

“Trust me, I’d kill to be at a normal school.” Nobara pipes in and lightly pushes your arm jokingly. You laugh her off and turn to notice Megumi is tense and lost in thought. You tug at his sleeve to regain his attention and motion to continue your walk. He laces your fingers together and pulls you closer to him.

On your way to the ramen house, you and Nobara stop in a few shops to look around and you pick up a few things here and there. The boys mostly stayed outside in the sun and talked amongst themselves. After ducking inside one of the stores you quietly warn Nobara not to tease the boys too much today. “Nightmares again?”

“Yeah, it’s the first one in a few months but it was a bad one, just keep that between us though.”

“Of course, it’s good that he’s getting better.”

“Yeah, I’m trying to help as much as I can, but I don’t know if it's actually effective. I know they’ll never fully go away but it just hurts to see him in pain like that, you know?” Nobara nods and links your arms together as you move through the little shop.

“It’ll keep getting better, don’t let the bad nights get you down.” You smile at your friend before paying for your items and heading back outside.

When you and Nobara rejoin the boys outside, you find them complaining about being hungry and decide to actually go get your lunch. You’re all seated at a booth, you and Nobara are sitting next to each other and since Yuji insisted that he wanted to sit next to the window, he is across from you, leaving Megumi to sit across from Nobara. You smile at him apologetically but he shrugs it off and texts you from under the table to say that it doesn’t bother him.

It felt good to laugh and catch up with your friends until an old classmate of theirs showed up halfway through your meal. Megumi's eyes widen at the figure that slides into the booth next to Nobara. “Zenin? What are you doing here?” You eye her suspiciously but say nothing and continue eating your food.

“I told you, call me Mai. You make me sound the same as Maki,” she pouted at your boyfriend. You roll your eyes and Nobara huffs next to you. Mai turns to glare and notices Yuji trying to engage you in a conversation again. “Well, this is cute. Did the half-cursed monster and the normie finally get together?” You whip your head to her to ask what she's talking about, but she's speaking again before you can open your mouth.

“I mean it would make sense, you did like her first. Why did you never say anything?”

The table goes deadly quiet. Megumi is staring at Mai in horror, Yuji is shifting uncomfortably in his seat. Mai smirks at the tension she created and you can’t help but look back and forth between the two boys.

“Did you feel bad and let poor little Fushiguro have her?” She shifts her attention back to the man in front of her and continues. “Must be scary knowing he could probably take her back with a snap of his fingers, not that she’d last very long. I’d give it a week until Sukuna kills her.” Megumi lowers his eyes to the table but stays silent.

“Food for thought kids, I gotta go.” She winks at you and Nobara before making her exit. You try to reach for Megumi's hand across the table but he pulls away from you quickly.

“Megumi, she’s wrong,” you tell him gently.

“It’s fine, I’m fine.” He’s shaking his head and trying to brush you off. “I’m okay, it’s nothing.”

The air around the table is awkward for the rest of lunch, but you try to continue your small talk. Things take a turn for the worse when the waitress brings two separate checks. One for Nobara and Megumi, one for you and Yuji. Nobara flags her down to tell her that a mistake has been made with the check and can you split it differently. She apologizes and says she mistook your group for two couples. You all pay for your food, Megumi quickly snatching your individual check and paying for your lunch, before you start sliding out of the table.

When you get to the edge of the booth, Megumi is yanking you to your feet by your elbow. “I don’t feel good, I wanna go home.” He says shortly before turning to walk out of the restaurant. Yuji is avoiding eye contact and hanging his head in either shame or embarrassment. You can’t quite tell. You mumble a quick apology to Yuji and Nobara before following your boyfriend outside. He grabs your wrist tightly to lead you back to your apartment.

You’d seen him get mildly jealous, but never quite this bad. The walk was fast-paced, you were having a hard time keeping up with his tall frame. You were certain that the grip he had on your wrist was going to leave bruises. You tried to catch his attention a few times and pull your hand out of his. “‘Gumi please, you're hurting me.”

That sentence finally catches his attention, but only a little. He lets go of your arm and mutters a quiet “sorry” before shoving his hands into his pockets. The rest of your walk is doused in an uncomfortable silence before you finally get back to your apartment. Megumi pulls the keys to your front door out of his pocket before stepping aside to let you in first, you can almost feel his anger rolling off of him in waves. You slip off your shoes and place your purse and shopping bag on a countertop before you are roughly grabbed and pinned against the door.

Megumi squeezes your jaw firmly, his mouth crashing against yours brutally. You tug at his wrist with one hand, he loosens his grip, but never removes his hand from your face. His other hand is fixed on your waist as he continues using his body weight to keep you pressed against the door. Your brain feels fuzzy from his sudden attack and you struggle to get your head to catch up with your body. Out of pure instinct you tilt your face up towards his to deepen the kiss and just as you think you’ve gained some ground he’s pulling away.

A weak sound of protest comes from your throat and you open your eyes to see his own morphed into a dark midnight blue. You feel him tighten his grip on your face as he leans in just enough that you can feel his breath on your lips. Your focus is pulled away by his other hand slowly snaking its way from your waist into the waistband of your leggings. You feel your breath catch at the feeling of his fingertips making their way further down to your core. You hear him chuckle darkly.

“Look at you, I hadn’t even touched you and you’re already soaking. Could Yuji make you this wet from just kissing you?” You could barely hold yourself up, let alone form a word, all you could do was shake your head. Normally he would find that endearing, but he obviously wasn’t in the mood for silence tonight. He nipped your bottom lip almost painfully. “I need words pretty girl.”

“No, just you.” You were tugging at the front of his shirt, desperately trying to ground yourself.

He smirks dangerously and bit down on your bottom lip again, earning a sharp gasp from you. “I didn’t think so.”

You try to close the gap between your lips but he pulls back and shoves your face to the side so he has access to your throat. He latches on to the weak spot behind your ear and sucks like his life depends on it. He proceeds to cover your neck with dark bruising marks before pushing your sweater down your shoulder so he can continue to mark his territory.

“‘Gumi,” you try to reach him but he’s in his own headspace. You barely have time to brace yourself as he suddenly breaks himself away from you body and yanks you up over his shoulder. You land roughly, clinging to the back of his shirt to keep from falling, and it feels like the air has been knocked from your lungs.

He doesn't give you time to catch your breath before he’s striding into your bedroom and throwing you down onto the bed. Your body bounces at the impact and he’s climbing over you before your body can settle. He grabs your hands and pins them above your head and stares you straight in the eyes.

All that can be heard in the apartment was the whipping wind outside the window and the deep breaths emitting from both of your parted lips. You take advantage of the moment to fully take in his face. Your normally gentle and loving boyfriend was nowhere to be found. In his place was a man riddled with jealousy and intent on taking his frustration out on you.

The moment is broken when he drops one of his hands from your wrists to pull up at your sweater. You do your best in this position to arch your back up so he can pull it off. He momentarily lets go of your hands so he can fling your sweater onto the floor before his hands resume their post.

You close your eyes at the feeling of his lips kissing their way down your chest. He takes one of your nipples between his teeth and bites down lightly. Your body rises from the bed in an attempt to bring him closer to you. One of his hands comes down to shove your waist back down into the mattress and once he’s done assaulting one of your nipples he moves to the other. He leaves bruising marks everywhere his lips go and you feel as they make their way further down your waist. Everything feels heightened with your eyes squeezed closed.

“Megumi please,” you breathe out. He leans back up so his face is level with yours.

“Please what? Tell me what you want.” You feel the hand on your waist move down to your thigh. You can barely make an audible sound as he rubs his thumb roughly into the skin of your inner thigh. All you can manage is a weak whine and he scoffs at your feeble attempt at speaking. “Are you suddenly mute, use your fucking words.”

He smacks your thigh sharply trying to get you to focus on him and get out of your head. You let out a small whimper and he rubs his hand soothingly over your warm skin. “You can do it love, tell me what you want.”

How quickly he can switch between how sweet and how mean his words are has your head spinning. You blink a few times before your head clears. “I want to taste you.”

“That's my girl.” He practically purrs.

He releases the hand that was holding yours in place and moves backward to let you climb off the bed. The second you stand up he is tangling his fingers into your hair and shoving you to your knees in front of him. You don’t hesitate to reach up and quickly pull his jeans and boxers down to his knees. You run your hands up his thighs to grab his half-hard dick, giving it a few lazy strokes before taking the tip in your mouth. His hand tightens in your hair and he groans out in pleasure.

You slowly move your head and start taking him deeper into your mouth. Earning a string of small moans from him. “Fuck baby, you’re being such a good girl for me.”

The tip of his cock brushes the back of your throat causing you to gag and push at his thighs. He pulls you off of him to let you take a breath, admiring all the pretty bruises he left across your skin. It takes all his self-control to not cum right then as he works himself back into your mouth. “Just relax baby, I know you can take it.”

The sweet praise that was so familiar to your bedroom activities sends a rush of arousal through you and has you squeezing your thighs together to create the tiniest bit of friction. He continues pushing into your mouth until your nose is flush with his pelvis. Your whine of protest is muffled by him as he holds you against him, not letting you move your head back. Your eyes water at the sensation as you struggle to swallow around him.

“Awe, does my baby keep forgetting to breathe through her nose?” He pouts mockingly at you. You look up at him with tears rimming your eyes and he smirks again. “You just look so pretty like this princess.”

He moves the hand that was gripping your hair to run his thumb against your temple gently before drawing his hips back. You force yourself to relax as much as you can as he starts thrusting into your mouth. You ball your fists tightly, digging your nails into your palms to distract from the achy feeling in your jaw. You flush in embarrassment and the obscene amount of spit collecting at the corner of your lips as he keeps fucking into you like his own personal toy.

Tears are streaming down your face and he cums with a loud groan. You swallow and stick your tongue out to show him. He hummed contently and you leaned back against the bed. You lay your head back and try to catch your breath. Megumi strips the rest of his clothes off and tugs you to stand up.

“Did you think we were done, princess?” He crashes his mouth against yours again and nudges you back onto the bed. “I’m not done until my name is the only thing you can say for weeks.”

Megumi reaches down to thrust two fingers into you, causing you to cry out. His mouth latches onto your skin and starts leaving dark marks everywhere he can reach again. His hand is pumping into you at a brutal pace and you’re trying your best to bite back your moans. He looks up at your face and scoffs.

“No holding back those beautiful sounds baby.” He reaches his free hand up to squeeze the sides of your throat. “I want you to use that pretty mouth to tell me just how good I’m fucking you,” he growls. You nod frantically and he nips at your jaw. Your moans and whines grow increasingly louder and Megumi starts rutting his cock against your thigh for friction.

“Gumi, I’m close,”

“Hold it,” he growls. You look up at him in panic and he grinds the heel of his hand into your clit. “I want to see if you can be good and follow a simple order. If you don’t behave, I will leave you here with nothing.”

You press your face into his shoulder and let out a small whimper. Just when you thought his challenge was hard enough, he slips a third finger into you and purposely crooks them to hit your sweet spot over and over.

“Please baby, I’m sorry. I’ll be good, please just let me cum.” Tears threaten to spill again and he laughs darkly, but says nothing else as he keeps thrusting his fingers into you. He turned his face so his breath could tickle your ear.

“I think my princess just needed a reminder of who she fucking belongs to, isn’t that right?” You nodded frantically against his shoulder. “If you really wanted to get fucked like a whore this bad then you could have just asked me nicely princess.”

Both of your hands were gripping his biceps so hard you thought that you might leave bruises on him. Your climax was so close you could almost taste it, but Megumi's threat loomed in the back of your mind. Not wanting to anger him more you keep behaving and pushing back your orgasm to the point where it’s almost painful. Seeing you struggle to follow his orders underneath him ignited something feral inside your boyfriend, as if he wasn’t dancing on the edge of it already.

“Okay princess, you can cum now.” Your climax ripped through you violently, and you couldn’t help the broken cries it pulled from your mouth.

Before you could ride out your high he is flipping you onto your stomach and yanking your hips up. You scramble to push yourself up onto your hands before he is shoving your face into the blankets.

“No baby, I want you bent over nice and pretty for me. This way I can fuck you exactly how I like.” He pushes himself all the way into you with one fluid motion and sets a hard and fast pace. You are gasping out for him and reaching back to squeeze his wrist. Overstimulation is wracking through your body and you can see black dotting your vision.

You whimper as you feel your next orgasm approaching quickly, and Megumi can sense it too. “Are you gonna be a good girl and cum again?” You nodded your head, and he slapped your thigh, eliciting a cry from you. “I asked you a question, and I want you to use your words like a big girl.”

“I’m close, please let me come again baby.” He smiles and angles his hips to start hitting your sweet spot till you’re seeing stars. Your second climax is less intense than the first, but it still has you feeling completely exhausted. Your head is hazy and you can feel your legs beginning to tremble underneath you. If not for Megumi's firm grip on your hips, you’re sure they would have given out by now.

He reaches around and pulls you up so one hand is wrapped around your throat and the other is wrapped around your waist. His hips never falter their rough pace and your back is pressed to his chest. You can hear and feel him panting in your ear with every one of his movements. Your head is too hazy to focus on anything except him and you let your head loll back onto his shoulder. He turns his head to look at you and smirks. “Look at that, my poor baby got fucked out too hard. I know you have one more in you princess.”

You whine at the promise of another orgasm while he once again latches his mouth on to your neck and shoulders. He lets the fingers on your waist trail down to where you are connected and circles your clit several times. You jolt at the stimulation and weakly try to push his hand away. He smirks and decides to take his taunting a step further. “I wonder what sweet Yuji would think if he saw you like this? Fucked dumb on my cock.”

You barely process his words, but you don’t have the energy to respond. He nips at your jaw as he pushes you closer to the edge. You can tell he’s close with how his pace begins to stutter. With a particularly hard thrust and a pinch of your clit you are coming undone for the final time that night. He cums right after you and gently lays you back down on the bed.

You’re sniffling from overstimulation and pushing his hips away from yours until he pulls out of you completely. You’re finally able to find your words as you curl further into the blankets. “Please baby no more, it hurts.”

You can’t see the guilt that washes over his face as he leans forward to kiss your temple lovingly. “It’s okay pretty girl, you did so well for me.”

He leaves you in bed to move to the bathroom and you think you can vaguely hear water running. After a few minutes he comes back and scoops you into his arms and carries you to the bathroom. He slowly eases you into the warm water of the bathtub before he's running back out.

You lean your head against the wall and let tears continue to stream down your face. A small portion of it is from the dull throb coming from your lower body, but mostly it’s from sadness clawing at your heart. You hate pushing him on his emotions and prying at things he doesn’t want to talk about, however something seemed to really push him over the edge tonight.

He quietly comes back into the bathroom and sets the book you're currently reading on the bench next to the tub, along with a hot tea in one of your favorite mugs. He had pulled on a pair of sweatpants, and was turning to leave again. You reach out and gently wrap your fingers around his wrist. “I know that I’ve asked you to share so much in the last 24 hours, but can we please talk about what happened tonight?”

A look of confusion crosses his face and you sink further into the water. “I just want us to be okay, and I can’t shake the feeling that you’re mad at me.” Your voice begins to falter and he curses at himself. He pulls his sweatpants off and slides into the water behind you and rubs your shoulders.

“I’m not mad at you baby, Mai just hit a deep seated insecurity, and the thing with the waitress just kinda pushed me past my limit. I shouldn’t have taken it out on you like that, I’m sorry.”

You turn to lean your head on his shoulder and let your fingertips trace the water droplets that gathered on his chest. “Why would you listen to anything Mai says? She loves to piss you and Maki off.”

He tucks his chin on top of your head and hugs your shoulders. “Because she wasn’t wrong about Yuji. He liked you first, I always felt like a charity case. And every time you guys hang out, it nags at me at how much better of a boyfriend he would be for you.”

You roll your eyes and flick his nose. “I knew that he liked me, he isn’t exactly the king of subtlety. But you need to remember, Yuji is your best friend, he’d never hurt you like that.”

“I know, I’m sorry.”

You shift to cup his face in your hands. “If I liked Yuji, I wouldn’t have dated you. You’re the one I wanted to be with, not him. I love you.”

He leans his face into your hand and lets you pull him in for a kiss. “I love you too princess.”

#fushiguro megumi #jujutsu kaisen #megumi x reader #jjk smut #megumi fic #megumi smut #megumi x y/n #anime #jujutsu kaisen smut #fanfic

[lord-explosion-baku]

Trident Tale part 2

Mermaid!Shinsou x reader x Kirishima x reader

Warnings: adult themes (minors DNI)

Author’s note: sorry to those of you who have asked me to put on the tag list! I don’t do tag lists! But if you don’t want to lose this story, you can always bookmark it on AO3.

Part 1 || Part 2 || Part 3

Original image by @maewoahoah

Moving to an island where everyone is big on the surf scene and other oceanic happenings might not have been the brightest idea for someone so afraid of anything that has to do with water, but you make do by spending your days looking after the Bed & Breakfast, trying not to burn the house down when you fry a few eggs, and obsessively scrolling through Eijirou Kirishima’s social media page. He’ll never notice you, and you think you’re fine with that, until a mysterious force washes into Ms. Shuzenji’s pool after a particularly nasty storm.

Hitoshi Shinsou is a pain in the ass from the get-go, but you put up with him, fins and all, when he promises he can help unite you with your soulmate. The catch? The fish is hellbent on taking back what was stolen from him, and he won’t lift a gracious finger until he gets what he came for.

You’re helpless to lend him a hand, so long as you stay dry. Unless, of course, he has other plans.

You know how the saying goes: you rub his fins, he’ll rub yours.

The thing about being hungry is that you can sometimes convince yourself that you’re full. You can sip water, swallow your breath, pop a few mints in—hell, you could even pretend to eat. However, even if you might trick your brain, your stomach will still be empty.

By the time you finally get some real goddamn food in your stomach, it will be aching from being teased.

It feels like this is exactly what Hitoshi Shinsou has done to you. Teased you. He’d mentioned being one of Ryūjin, which you can only assume is something religious or magic. You know he’s a fish, and that he makes people’s skin glow when he touches them, and apparently his lips or his saliva can heal wounds. But he’s not yet given you any real goddamn food.

The jerk has been swimming circles around the pool, commenting on how disgusting it is being stuck with all the trash, and complaining about your poor hospitality, but has not yet told you what the hell he’s doing here.

It’s not like you ever asked for some creature to crash into Ms. Shuzenji’s pool. Maybe some people would be ecstatic over finding an actual merperson, but life isn’t all about singing songs and talking to seagulls. He’s definitely not an Ariel, unless he is in fact looking for a prince. With all his sass, you think he’s much more of an Ursula than a Disney princess. If he is a sea-witch, he refuses to tell you.

It won’t matter much by the time Denki gets here anyways. You had been honest when you said you wouldn’t put it against him to call some news station when he sees Hitoshi. You figure that after some science lab’s helicopters carried your intruder away to run tests on him, the fish-man will be out of your hair and a thing of the past.

Despite the cynicism crawling through your head, the thought actually makes a guilty pit form in the bottom of your stomach. A life is a life, afterall.

“At least tell me why you tried to…to…” Your mouth flattens when you recall Hitoshi leaning into you, his lips a whisper away from yours.

“To?” Hitoshi asks while he observes the wayward bra that blew into the pool with notable repulsion.

“To kiss me!” You bark out, ears warm.

“Oh, that?” He purses his lips, spinning the bra around in the water. Then, he’s contemplative for a moment, as if he’s thinking of an excuse that won’t make you angry. Or will. He seems to get a kick out of frustrating you.

“I suppose I should’ve considered that it’s not a social norm for humans to greet other humans with their lips,” he says with a cocky, probably lying smirk. “My bad.”

“You expect me to believe that mermaids kiss each other to say hello?”

“Not a mermaid.” The fish is all teeth as he regards you. “I’m one of Ryūjin. And I’d like to think that you’d believe anything I tell you, since you seem to know nothing about my people.”

“Because you won’t tell me anything about your people,” you mutter right before the house bell rings. Your heart jumps with a spike of panic. You haven’t thought about what you’re going to say to Denki yet. You begin thinking about science labs again, and that knot in your stomach tightens.

“Okay,” you say in a warning tone, “I’m gonna let Denki in now…”

“Uh-huh.”

“He’s gonna see you…”

“That’s the plan.” Hitoshi lifts a brow. “You’re not worried for me, are you?”

“I just think you should be more worried about yourself,” you say. “Humans aren’t…” There’s a pensive pause when you try to search for the right word. “Humans aren’t good.”

“Would you say that you’re a good human?” He asks.

What a question. You’d like to believe that you are, but you can’t kid yourself. Never one to be very self-sacrificing, you utter your next words with confidence. “Nope.”

“And yet, you haven’t done anything malicious towards me. Nothing, besides that half-assed attempt to kick me away from you, anyways.”

Rolling your eyes to keep your couldn’t-care-less facade up, you left the smirking merman to wade around in the murky pool. There’s not another second to think about what you could possibly say to Denki about your surprise guest, because when you enter the house, you see his face peeking through the side window next to the front door. You could see a drink holder and a Tiki Burger bag in his hand. His smile is bright, while yours is grim.

He pouts, seeing through forced body language, and proceeds to make a funny face. You let out a half-sigh, half-laugh. You might not be a good person, but Denki is. He’s an idiot, but you don’t think he’d ever do anything to harm another creature, mythical or not. This could even be fun to him. Exciting. Something extraordinary happened, and you’d been too scared to react to it appropriately, but Denki would be different.

Your changing emotions grow palpable when you finally reach for the handle.

“Heard you had some thingies that needed twisting,” Denki says as you open the door. He’s wearing his company’s shirt, a brown thing with the PoolPros logo on it, though it’s cut raggedly short to show off his midriff. He’s been particularly confident ever since he’d gotten his navel pierced, and happily showed off the topaz stone that Kirishima had given him. It hangs right above his buckle. It forces onlookers to look at his abs…or maybe his groin. He says it’s lucky, and you haven’t argued with him about it. You would probably call something Kirishima gave you lucky too.

In a flash, you’re grabbing him by his shirt collar and guiding him in and against one of the hall mirrors.

“Something’s happened.” The words immediately spill out, even while you still do not know what you’re going to say. You hope that if the right things tumble out of your mouth, Denki will get the picture.

“Uh…” Denki’s cheeks are red hot, reacting to your close proximity. “Was it a spike in your libido?”

God.

“No, shut up!” You smack his chest and glance down the hall towards the back door. The pool isn’t in your line of vision, but just knowing what lurks there gets your blood pumping. “This is going to sound crazy, but I need you to keep an open mind.”

He bobs his brows. “For you? Always.”

After an exhale, you gather your composure, and tell Denki everything with as much eloquence as you can muster.

“There’s something living in the pool!” You bark out, erratic. “It’s big and it has zero impulse control and it’s rude! It talks! When it touches me, my skin glows. Then it tried to kiss me, Kaminari! And it’s rude!” You add that in again, because you cannot stress it enough. Hitoshi Shinsou is as unrefined as a piece of driftwood, and he had the audacity to make comments on behalf of your decorum. “It won’t tell me what it’s doing here, either. I offered to get it back into the ocean, but it said it wanted something else, but it won’t tell me what, and I don’t know what to do!”

Denki blinks rapidly, like his eyelashes are repelling every word you toss at him. There’s a beat, he swallows, then his lips tilt up into a knowing grin.

“Alright,” he says, “I see you.”

“You do?” Maybe you had to give Denki a little more credit. That hadn’t been your best description of a nightmare scenario.

“Sure do, little lady. This is some kinda belated birthday prank, huh? Thought you could slide one past me when I was least expecting it! I was thinking that maybe you just forgot about it, but now you’ve got something up your sleeve, don’t ya! Well cutie, I might be dumb, but I’m not stupid!”

Striding into the house, Denki places the shakes and burger bag onto Shuzenji’s kitchen counter. Shoulders deflating, you follow him while he fishes a few fries out of the bag. If he doesn’t get it now, he will soon enough.

“What could it be?” He ponders, tossing a fry into his mouth. He nods towards one of the cups and mumbles about a shake for you, then towards the back door. “Couldn’t be a party—it’s too early for a party. And you don’t talk to many people…”

Ignoring the slight burn, you front Denki, and extend your hand out to his. His eyes widen for a moment, he wipes his hand on his pants, and takes yours.

“I need your help, Denki. Seriously.”

“Yeah,” he says, a touch more reformative. “Okay.”  

What should’ve been some grand reveal, however, turned out to be anything but.

The pool being clean is the first thing you notice, as absurd as that is. It’s now half-filled, with only sprinkles of algae leftover by some miraculous clean-up. There’s no more silver fish swimming around, and all the trash that had previously taken sanctuary in the pool now lays on a mountainous pile with the bra sitting at its peak. Your guest is no longer in the pool—the very clean pool.

Denki chuckles and says, “well, this doesn’t look bad at all. By how hysterical you were on the phone, I was expecting something much worse. Oh! Hello!”

Your jaw drops as Denki waves at Hitoshi—a very comfortable-looking Hitoshi who lounges on one of the reclining pool chairs, head turned back like he’s sun bathing, one leg crossed over the goddamn other. Legs. Attached to feet—feet that definitely were not there when you’d met him.

Tricky, magic fish-man.

“Oh,” Hitoshi says, carefully considering Denki. “We have company?”

The ‘we’ in his statement doesn’t sit right with you anymore than his appearance does. He stands, and both you and Denki gasp when you see his new outfit in its entirety. It’s all royal blue, fine silks, and sheer fabric that only covers the places that would make Denki blush. Puffy, yet flowing sleeves connect to his now two golden cuffs. A heavy gold necklace hangs around him, and he’s got a light sash thrown around mostly his bare chest. A golden, v-shaped belt holds his deep blue harem pants up.

They are the gaudiest goddamn pajamas you’ve ever seen.

Hitoshi moves like water to face Denki, then firmly grasps him by the forearm, yanking the boy forward so that their lips are mere inches away from each other. Noting that there’s no glowing from their contact, you watch as Hitoshi’s indigo eyes slide from Denki’s lips, to you, and shows off a dubious glint.

“Whoops,” Hitoshi murmurs basically into Denki’s mouth. “I almost forgot that you don’t greet people like this here.” He takes a step away and smirks. “Forgive me. I’m Hitoshi Shinsou. You must be the pool guy.”

“Um, yeah. ‘M Denki Kaminari.” Denki laughs nervously. His cheeks burn red, and he keeps shifting his weight from one leg to the other. Grabbing onto your hand tightly, he starts back towards the house, towing you along, saying, “excuse us, we just have to—uh. Talk.”

In a tick, you’re whisked right back inside, in the land of private conversations.

“It didn’t look like that before, Denki. I swear to god.” You’re insisting as soon as the door is closed.

“It?!” Denki balks, his cheeks turning even more red. “Do you mean the pool or that hunk of a man hanging around your backyard?!”

“Both, I guess, but I wouldn’t call it a man! It had a giant purple tail before you showed up!!”

“That’s very rude, y’know.” Denki peers back at Hitoshi who’s lackadaisically cleaning his fingertips. “What are their pronouns?”

You imagine Hitoshi surrounded by others like him, all either screaming or clicking to communicate with each other in an inhuman language. “I don’t think pronouns matter wherever it’s from!”

“Hmm.” Denki slides the door open and pops his head out. “‘Scuse me, Hitoshi, what are your pronouns?”

Without missing a beat, Hitoshi answers him. “As in titles? You can call me Shinsou, but if you’re so inclined, I’ll allow you to call me lord.”

“Lord, of course.” More nervous laughter as Denki closes the door. “Lord. That’s a kink thing, right? It’s gotta be!”

“It’s not!” You bark, but Denki doesn’t hear you. Instead, he rushes towards one of the hall mirrors and begins fussing over his hair.

“I honestly can’t believe you did this. I mean, you, of all people. You’re braver than I gave you credit for. Coulda given me a heads up, though. I would’ve worn somethin’ nice. Or not come at all. I do feel like I’m intruding.” Denki’s eyes light up. “Unless this is for my birthday and you’re…you want me to join you?”

“You’ve lost me.” You're too busy trying to figure out what you can do to convince Denki that Hitoshi is a mermaid. You’ve considered pushing him back into the pool, but you don’t know if that would change him back to his sea-man state, or just make you look like a jackass.

“This is so weird. I haven’t seen that guy on the island before, and believe me, I know everybody. It must’ve cost a pretty penny to get him here. On top of everything else-“ He clears his throat- “how much is this costing you? Does Shuzenji know what you get up to while she’s away?”

It hits you like a freight train. “Oh, Kaminari…No…”

“The jig is up!” Denki stomps his foot defiantly and points towards the door. “You’re paying that man for sex!”

“God no!” The very idea that you’ve paid Hitoshi to be here, to touch you, flusters the hell out of you. If anything, you’d pay for him to leave. “You’d honestly think I’d hire a prostitute?!”

“Escort is the term they are using nowadays, and no, I wouldn’t think you’d hire an escort until now!” Denki scoffs, then moves his hand through his hair, exasperated. “The thing is, babe, you don’t need to. You’re cute and fun! If you got out every once in a while…”

“Fish!” You yell, cutting him off, because you’re not about to have another conversation about your hermit lifestyle. “He’s a fish, Denki! I didn’t fuck a fish! Nor am I planning to!”

Denki blinks at you. Not like before—not like he’s reflecting your words. This blink is more like a blink one would offer someone who’d been having an otherwise normal conversation, until they started talking about the earth being flat, or homosexuals burning in a lake of fire.

I’m not crazy, you think and will Denki to believe. I’ll prove it.

Before you can give Denki a play-by-play of what happened—properly this time, and not just your rambled recall—the door slides open, and Hitoshi steps in.

“May I enter?” The regal-looking man asks.

At the exact same moment you say, “no,” Denki says, “of course.”

“I was just hoping to find something to eat.” Hitoshi stops in the kitchen, arms crossed and expectant.

“You haven’t fed your hooker?” Denki whispers and it blows your mind that he can say hooker and you can’t say prostitute. “You can have half my burger!”

“Burger,” Hitoshi repeats the unfamiliar word, and looks around, probably wondering what it could be. Denki takes the hint and proceeds to fish his meal out of the bag. Overly familiar with Shuzenji’s kitchen, he finds a knife to cut the sandwich in two, then hands one half to Hitoshi.

Hitoshi frowns.

“I’m sorry, are you a vegetarian?” Denki asks, and you can tell he’s being overly hospitable in a house that is not his. When Hitoshi doesn’t answer him, but doesn’t stop frowning, Denki asks, “do you not eat meat?”

“This is meat?” Asks Hitoshi, shaking the burger in the air. Some mayonnaise-covered lettuce falls to the kitchen floor.

“I have to clean that!” You yip and wet a paper towel. When you’re on your knees, Hitoshi gives you a smirk of indifference.

“What, do you not have hamburgers where you’re from?” Denki asks, and when Hitoshi refuses to answer him again, he says, “the meat is the patty. It’s beef.”

“Beef.” Hitoshi begins dissecting the thing, throwing the bun halves, pickles, tomato, and lettuce all on the floor. You continue to curse at him while he sniffs at the patty. “What animal is this?”

“Beef is cow, dude.” Denki sounds more skeptical now, which you’d be grateful for if you weren’t already on your hands and knees, scrubbing ketchup out of the tile. “Man, throwing food on the floor is rude no matter where you’re from. Babe, you shouldn’t have to clean that up.”

“If I don’t, who will?” You ask, sardonic.

“There’s not really a floor where I’m from,” Hitoshi says once he swallows his first bite. He places the patty back onto the burger wrap, and steps away from his mess. “At least, there’s no floor when it’s meal time. We just let shells and bones float around until they go down to where they’ll eventually break down and decay.”

Denki asks, “where did you say you were from?”

“He’s a fish, Denki.”

“I didn’t.” Hitoshi gets down on his knees with a wetted paper towel of his own. He swipes at the places you’ve missed, then looks at you. “Tell me, would a not-good person clean up a mess that isn't their own?”

“It’s kind of my job,” you retort and stand so Hitoshi can finish cleaning. Instead, he stands with you.

“And what is his job?” Hitoshi nods towards Denki who looks more and more fretful by the second. “I assume he’s here to provide services. If you’re paying him, shouldn’t he be the one to clean for you? Prepare meals for you? Bend to your whims?”

Denki says, “I’ve got a couple jobs, but I’m not a housekeeper, no.”

“No?” Hitoshi gives out a terse laugh and hands the towel off to Denki. “Clean.”

Denki looks to you for an explanation. You’re about to chew Hitoshi out, when he again says, “clean,” but this time, there’s something attached to his voice. Something that is nothing, but also more. It sends goosebumps up your arms and compels Denki to fall to the floor and obey the command.

“Yes, my lord.” When Denki finishes cleaning and throws the rest of the mess in the bin, he looks at Hitoshi, eyes glossy, waiting.

“Fetch me some water,” says Hitoshi, and after another yes, my lord, Denki begins searching for a glass.

“Quit it!” You shout and very nearly grab on to Hitoshi’s arm, stopping only when you remember the glow and the prickles that accompany his touch. Decidedly, you hurry after Denki and grab the glass from his hands and snap your fingers in front of his face.

Denki blinks, and this time it’s not because he doesn’t hear you, and it’s not because you’re spouting crazy nonsense. He blinks, and it’s a revelation.

“Hypnosis!” Denki says the word like eureka! and you want to shake him, because he should be angrier than he seems.

“I’m surprised you understand or even remember that much,” Hitoshi drawls. “You’re more in-tune than you’d like people to believe.”

And I’m Mother Teresa, you think bitterly. The fish is contemptuous as hell, but he doesn’t read people well. To him, you’re good and apparently Denki’s a genius.

“How did you do that?” Denki asks with growing excitement. “When I was a kid, I was really into magic, but could never get any of the tricks right. You didn’t use any triggering noises or images or anything.”

“There is a bit of magic about you,” Hitoshi says like he’s thinking out loud. “Not enough to pull something like what I just did off unless you have the proper tide jewel. But you do have enough power to utilize a tide jewel.”

“Don’t do that again,” you warn, and pour water from the sink into the glass. There’s purified water in the fridge, but Hitoshi hasn’t earned it. “To Kaminari or to me. The difference between a house guest and a home-invader is who does and does not use hypnosis on other guests.”

“I wasn’t aware that hypnosis is a common occurrence in your residence.” Hitoshi reaches for the glass, but you hold it away from him. Casting out a withering look, he says, “I wouldn’t be able to hypnotize him again, even if I wanted to. Not for a while, anyways. Not without my tide jewel.”

“What’s a tide jewel?” Denki asks. “Is that, like, sea glass?”

Eyes flicking from the glass of water, to Denki, then to you, Hitoshi says, “he knows how to ask a question.”

The questions that you ask get ignored! But instead of saying that, you continue to withhold the water, and say, “then answer him.”

Mildly peeved, Hitoshi turns his attention back to Denki. “You say you have a couple of jobs. What would they be?”

“That’s not answering his question,” you mutter.

“I’ll decide whether I should answer him in a moment. Denki, if you will.”

“Oh, well…” The sheepish Denki brings his hand to the back of his neck, blushing slightly. “I’ve got the PoolPros gig, and sometimes I pick shifts up at The Salty Barrel. I sort of got an affinity for making drinks…and cooking…and fixing things, so they like to keep me around.”

Unamused, Hitoshi pries. “Anything else?”

“Sometimes I pick up odd jobs. Fishing and delivery. I guess I’m pretty dependable because of the boat.”

This catches Hitoshi’s attention. “You have a boat?”

“Sure, yeah. It’s nothin’ too special yet. I’ve been working on it, and it’s coming along, but it’s not ready for what it’s truly intended for.”

“Which would be?”

Denki looks at you and winks, making your ears warm. You know exactly why he got the boat.

“Romantic rendezvous.”

“I see,” Hitoshi says pensively. Then, his eyes go sharp when he notices you fiddling with the ties on your shorts. “Are you two mates?”

Denki lifts a conspiratorial brow towards you, before throwing his arm around your shoulders, pulling you against his body. “Sure, yeah—we’re mates!”

You push away from him, and bite, “not those kinds of mates.”

Although nobody disagrees with you, you sense Denki sulking.

“Ah,” Shinsou muses. “You haven’t yet fought for her hand?”

Before you can groan at the idea, Denki laughs quietly, but his laughter quickly grows uproariously as he considers the idea. Soon, he’s gripping his stomach to stop himself from doubling over. You glare at his feet.

“As if there’s another guy to fight for her,” Denki bellows, wiping a tear away from his eye. “Maybe if she ever went out, but for now, the only person I gotta fight for her hand, is her!”

“Oh, I understand,” Shinsou says, eyes on you. “A battle to assert domination.”

Denki hoots loudly at the idea. “Looks like I’m screwed!”

To your growing agitation and embarrassment, Denki continues to laugh. It’s as if you’re not constantly shooting him down. You’re not pitiful. Not helpless. And you think you’d have some game if you put your heart into it. You just have a type, and the pool guy just doesn’t fit the bill, whether he’s handy or not.

There’s no humor to be found in Hitoshi’s eyes, though. He’s glaring at you, like before, only now he’s looking at you more like you’re a piece of meat—like he’s some kind of predator and you’re his newfound prey. You inadvertently step closer to Denki, as if he could be used as some sort of defense shield, then elbow him in the ribs, pretending that you’re not at all intimidated by this fish-turned-man.

“Nobody’s fighting anybody,” you say, keeping eye-contact with Hitoshi. You’ve been told before that the fact that you’re never the first to look away is a little off-putting. Hoping to have the same uncomfortable effect on your guest, you don’t even blink when you say, “I just have my eyes on someone special.”

At the same time Denki stops his laughing, Hitoshi narrows his eyes—not out of malice, but what seems to be curiosity. That’s as far as you’ll go with revealing any more personal information. You might not be physically spoken for, yet, but at least you’re emotionally unavailable. You vaguely wonder if those kinds of ideals are acknowledged by sea people.

“Yeah, Kiri,” Denki says with a roll of his eyes. So much for keeping things personal. “He’s not interested in dating anyone, though. In fact, he’s pretty much married to the ocean.”

“At least there aren’t other girls,” you say, and with a quick glance at Denki, you add, “or boys.”

Denki exaggerates a woeful, hand-over-forehead pose and cries, “at least we have each other!” Then, he places his hand back around your shoulders. Again, you scoot away from him, and this time, you catch Hitoshi’s lips quirk up, just a bit.

“Alright,” Hitoshi says. “I’ve decided.”

“Decided what?” You ask.

“That the two of you are going to help me.”

The fish-man moves to flatten the burger wrap down on the counter like a map, and proceeds to decimate the other half of Denki’s burger. Denki says, “oh that’s fine…I wasn’t that hungry anyways.”

“Help you with what!” You bark, practically starving for details. Despite Hitoshi and all that he’s done, your interest is piqued, and you feel as though you’re finally going to get to the meat of his situation.

Lining a few fries on the paper wrap, Hitoshi finally says, “a few of my worldly possessions have been stolen from me. They’ve been missing for quite a long time now, and I now plan to take them back. Four of the six items happen to be tide jewels. I figure those will be the easiest to locate and extract.”

Denki snaps his finger. “Tide jewels! That’s what we were talking about! What are those?

Dabbing his pinky into some mustard, Hitoshi says, “artistry…” He dips his ring finger into the ketchup and says, “reign…” he tears a piece of lettuce in half and says, “tide…” and finally, he rips some of the patty and says, “soul.”

“Artistry, reign, tide, soul,” Denki repeats, peeking over Hitoshi’s shoulder. “You don’t happen to be a musician, do you? A magician musician!”

“I’m a connoisseur, but not a practitioner.” Hitoshi breathes. “And you’re too close to me.”

“Well, you’re certainly not an artist,” Denki huffs, taking a few steps back. You move in to see what Denki saw.

On the wrap, the French fries have been warped to look like some sort of three-pronged fork. On the left prong, there’s a dab of ketchup, in the center, mustard, and the right has a piece of lettuce sitting on it. Connecting the three prongs is the bit of hamburger meat Hitoshi had ripped.

“Is this supposed to be a fork or a trident?” You ask, then kick yourself, because it’s obviously a trident. Duh. Mermaids. “Is that one of the things that have been stolen? A trident?”

Hitoshi says, “yes. All four of the tide jewels connect to the trident. With them, the trident could very well be one of the most powerful blessed objects on this planet. If it falls into the wrong hands, the results could be catastrophic.”

“Now, hang on,” Denki begins, brows curved into a frown. “What?”

“So good at questions,” you murmur.

“Each tide jewel has its own magical property. The names speak for themselves, but since the two of you are a little slow on the uptake, I’ll explain.” Hitoshi points at each different spot on his fries-trident, explaining what each point represents.

“The yellow jewel is for artistry and skill. Whoever wields it, whether in its natural form or attached to another object, will learn trades quickly, can craft almost anything at a master’s level, and they’ll have a more creative way of thinking.”

“The red jewel is for reign and rule. Whoever wields this can command any audience. Wars have been fought, kingdoms taken, and women stolen by the power of this gem. It’s almost the most violent of the four, but it can also be used to keep peace.”

“The blue jewel is for the tide. They used to be two jewels, one for tide-ebbing, the other for tide-flowing, but they’ve been molded together after another theft mishap. With the power of this jewel, one would be able to control not only the water of the sea, but water itself. This gem can create storms you couldn’t dream of. This is possibly the most dangerous stone if placed into the wrong hands.”

“Sir, that’s a piece of lettuce,” Denki says.

“Your burger didn’t have anything blue,” Hitoshi growls, “nor did it have anything purple, which brings me to the last jewel. This would be the soul jewel. It aids people with wishes, can offer good dreams, and can allow the wielder to see people’s auras, or souls. This jewel has stopped many malevolent unions in the past.”

Finally, Hitoshi turns back to you and Denki. There’s nothing content about his expression now. If anything, he looks grave.

“The fact that the trident is not in my possession has already had a cataclysmic influence on the world you know now. I need it, and the jewels, or else there may be dire consequences.”

Throat dry, palms sweaty, you swallow thickly, and allow yourself a moment to process all that he’s saying. It may be idiotic, but you believe him. Maybe if you hadn’t seen him in the water earlier, things would be different. You’d be more skeptical. But since you’ve already seen one impossible thing today—two if you're counting the fact that Hitoshi grew legs and magically poofed himself an outfit—you don’t think he’s lying.

However, Denki did not see him in the water. Which is why he’s the first to speak.

“Right,” he says, looking down on you. “Sorry, babe, but the marvel universe did it first with Thanos and his gauntlet. If this is supposed to be a scavenger hunt of some kind, can we skip the game, hints and all, and get to the dinner? I expect there’ll be candles and such for nighttime, so maybe you and I can hang out at the beach, sans the mean magician?” Denki looks at Hitoshi. “No offense, buddy. You could join us if you cheer up a bit. I’d never say no to a threesome with two equally attractive people.”

The water in the glass you’re holding begins to shake. It shakes, and then it moves, and then it lifts up into the air, snaking around like a gelatinous worm, and slowly makes its away to Hitoshi’s mouth. Never before have you seen anyone swallow menacingly, and this has changed it.

“I am not your buddy,” Hitoshi hisses between his teeth, “and this is not a game.”

“He just…” Denki begins stuttering. This isn’t something he can chock up to something as mundane as a magic trick. This is pure magic, and you feel less like a giant dork for how you reacted to Hitoshi showing himself to you, with how distraught Denki seems to be.

“I told you,” you say under your breath, “he’s a fish!”

“I am Hitoshi Shinsou. I am one of Ryūjin, and you will not desecrate my name or my people by belittling me or my power.” It hadn’t occurred to you until now that he’s not only speaking to Denki, but to both of you. The thought makes you shift with unease as Hitoshi’s eyes slide from your friend to you. “Not without consequences. I’ve been burdened with this purpose, and the two of you can choose to help me and reap the rewards that follow, or you can return to your miserable lives, loligagging and ogling the things you know you want, but are too lazy to obtain.”

At this moment, Hitoshi Shinsou seems ancient to you. Trepidation crawls up your spine, chilling you to the bone. You regret most of what you’ve said to him, even the things you’d thought he deserved. You have an inkling that if Hitoshi really wanted to harm you, or Denki, he would. Easily.

“Okay, well-“ Denki, again speaks first, thank god. “You didn’t say there would be rewards.”

Maybe don’t thank god yet. But before you can apologize on Denki’s behalf, the air that you hadn’t realized had got heavier, thicker even, lifts, and Hitoshi eases up, lackadaisical smirk back on track.

“You both wish for something,” he says. “If you help me retrieve what’s rightfully mine, I will graciously return the favor by granting your wishes.”

“We do?” Denki asks. It’s wild to you how easily he could jump back into conversation like this, although, when you look closely at him, you can see that he’s trembling faintly. “What do I want?”

“You wish for a boat,” Hitoshi says, “so I will give you a boat.”

“I have a boat.”

“I’ll give you a better boat.” Hitoshi seems to be enjoying himself now, even going so far as to lean on the table, picturing exactly what he’s describing. “A captivating boat that both women and men find irresistible. It will sail smoother and faster than the other vessels out on sea. You will never want or need for an upgrade for it will never wear or tear.”

“A super boat,” Denki muses, beguiled by the idea. It’s your turn to be skeptical now, because you haven’t wished for anything. At least, not aloud for Hitoshi to hear.

“Then, what do I get?” You ask, arms crossed. You can admit that you’re interested in what he might have to say.

“Oh darlin’, that’s easy,” Hitoshi purrs, and moves from the counter over to you. Slowly, like he’s savoring your anticipation. Lifting a finger to your arm, he slides it across your skin, watching as both the glow and the tingles return. You have to hold your breath to yourself from sighing.

“You want to be loved,” he says, “adored even. And not just by anybody. You want to be with your soulmate, isn’t that right. That may be why you came to this island to begin with.”

There’s no way he could’ve known that you’re new to the island. Nobody said anything about it. But he’s not wrong. Though you can’t say he’s right either. You came to the island in hopes to find…yourself. And though you haven’t yet found yourself, you sure as hell found Kirishima. And soulmate has a nice right to it.

“So if we help you find these gems—“

“—tide jewels,” he intervenes.

“Tide jewels-“ you roll your eyes- “then you will give Denki a super boat, and you will unite me with a soulmate?”

“Exactly,” Hitoshi confirms. “Easy peesy, isn’t it?”

“How do we know you’ll uphold your end of the bargain?” Denki asks, finally out of his super boat daydreams.

“I said you were good with questions.” Hitoshi smirks. “You don’t know. You can’t know. But you can either do this with me, and probably get a super boat and a soulmate out of it, or you can not, and get nothing.”

Denki side-eyes you, and you him. You hold each other’s gazes for a brief moment, and you already know how this would play out if you refuse. Denki would convince you to do it. You don’t do anything, he says with his eyes. Might as well hang around and see how this plays out.

“Fine.” Even though your good conscience screams at you to do otherwise, you let up. “We’ll help you.”

“Excellent.” Hitoshi beams, or at least, he beams in a way only someone who was just threatening two other people can beam. “Then we should start our search today. We’ll probably need to go into town and see if there are any supernatural occurrences or old folktales to check out.”

Going out to town is the last thing you’d planned on doing today. Or maybe the second to last thing you planned on doing. You have to ask, because if you don’t, you’ll go batsy.

“We won’t be getting wet, will we?”

Hitoshi scoffs, which isn’t an answer. Maybe you really don’t ask the right questions because when Denki asks, “you said there were six things you need to retrieve. What’s the sixth thing?” Hitoshi winks at you, and grins. And when he grins, your stomach aches.

#bnha x reader #bnha reader insert #reader insert #mha x reader #hitoshi shinsou x reader #shinsou x reader #bnha imagines #mermaid!shinsou x reader #bnha mermaids #trident tale #tt

[a-small-batch-of-dragons]

Realignment

Prompt: I love when Remus is a lot smarter than he lets on, so I’d love a prompt where Logan is overworking himself and not taking care of himself and one tic of the clock away from either passing out or having a full on mental breakdown (not the type you can recover from in a day). Remus notices the little signs Logan shows, and hears the intrusive thoughts Logan has. Remus really becomes concerned when Logan’s intrusive thoughts start to involve taking breaks, going to eat properly rather than inhaling granola bars, and even sleeping. Remus storms in and is like “Logan tf????” Then gets hella soft once he realizes the state Logan is in

Thank you for the prompts, babe! I liked this one the best so I picked it. 

GUYS PLEASE VIEW THIS AS A C H E C K P O I N T if you've been scrolling for a while (and you probably have) pause here! drink water! get food! walk around the room for a little bit! stretch! do something please! you are very important to me and I care about you very deeply!

Read on Ao3

Warnings: discussions of self-harm, nothing explicit, some self-destructive tendencies and behaviors. 

Pairings: focus on intrulogical, background LAMP, DLAMP, DLAMPR, can be platonic or romantic i don’t care

Word Count: 2410

Realignment: to align again.

Realignment: to reorganize or make new groupings of.

* * *

Remus hears a lot of weird shit.

The problem arises when the shit he starts to hear isn't weird at all.

Remus hears a lot of weird shit.

 The more appropriate definition would be ‘fucked up like you wouldn’t fucking believe,’ but one of us has a problem with particularly strong language and shit doesn’t have to be censored in a lot of media anymore. Which is so convenient! For some of us!

 It’s fucking great.

Anyway. Point being. Fucked up shit.

 Intrusive thoughts literally fall under his purview. It’s the fun stuff! The stuff you don’t wanna think about that makes your skin crawl and your eyes pop open at the witching hour and stay awake until the sun rises. That’s Remus’s job.

 And it’s like the whole Mindscape is whack-a-mole that he gets to play with! Buttons here and there, squeeze this part and watch the eyes bug out of this part, bap this one on the head, see which one pokes up next. Who’s gonna have nightmares tonight? Who is having a nightmare tonight?

 It’s fun.

 Point. Right. Right.

 It’s normally pretty easy to tell whose intrusive thoughts are whose. They taste different. Patton’s taste like sugar so sweet it’ll fill your mouth with cavities. Virgil’s taste like spiders, crawling around his mouth. Janus’s taste like salt. So much fucking salt. Dry as hell.

 Roman’s taste like blood. Problem is, Remus’s mouth normally tastes like blood, so…

 Yeah, they gotta work that out.

 Logan’s taste like ink. Which is why it took him so long to figure out that Logan was having them. Not just because the nerdy wolverine was so convinced he couldn’t have them—rationalizing them as philosophy principles, come on—but because Remus isn’t exactly an expert on pens. Writing like normal people. Ugh.

 Normal people.

 What a lie, Janny probably gets a big kick out of those.

 No one is normal and normal is boring.

 Logan. Right.

 Okay, so here’s the thing.

 Logan’s thoughts aren’t really…standard? They are to some extent, you don’t really get a whole lot of variety from him—even when Remus has been so helpful in making his room safe for him to be in during bad days, there’s such a lack of imagination there that he wasn’t sure exactly how to feel—but it’s the recent ones that’ve been getting…weird.

 Remus chews thoughtfully on the kraken tentacle. He swings up to the chandelier and hangs by his ankles, letting the blood run to his head. Makes it easier to think sometimes.

 It hasn’t been very long since they found out…well, since they found out.

 Remus frowns. Why is he censoring himself? It’s not like he can’t fucking say self-harm, it’s not like he can’t describe what it was, it’s not like he can’t close his eyes and see it happening again.

 Then his mind jumps helpfully to the shocked, panicked look on Logan’s face and the soft, furious resignation on Roman’s, and his jaw snaps shut.

 Oh.

 Right.

 He cares. So he has to be gentle with them.

 He growls, swinging himself up to perch on the chandelier proper. He turns the kraken tentacle over and chews on the rubbery side.

 The others are delicate. Not that they’re more breakable than any other metaphysical humanoid, but their minds are fragile when it comes to Remus’s side of things. Could they handle the full spectrum of his side of thoughts and shit? Probably, they’re stronger than they give themselves credit for. Should they have to? Hell to the fuck no. But it means that Remus can’t just throw them in the deep end and see if the kraken spits them out whole or in chunks. Could they survive? Absolutely. Would they still be…them? Doubtful.

 Remus lets one of his legs go, hanging by one knee as he tips over.

 Plus they’re always a little more fragile when it comes to these thoughts anyway. Poking and prodding too much would hurt. Like, the bad kind of hurt.

 They’re not supposed to get hurt. Not like that.

 So. Gentle it is then.

 Right. The others. He has a point, he’s just gotta get there.

 Roman…fuck he’s missed his brother. They got—they got so much shit to still work out but they’re gonna do it together and fuck he loves his brother so goddamn much. Roman knows that, he knows that, and he’s always there to pull Remus out of his head when he needs it, hit him with a pillow, or tackle him onto something and hold him tight. He’s—his thoughts taste like blood and Remus hasn’t bitten anything since so that he’ll never miss it again.

 But with Logan...

 Logan is…odd. It hasn’t been long since they first found out—or rather, they confronted him about it, and Remus hasn’t tasted ink without it disappearing very quickly or knocking on someone’s door to please go get your fucking nerd, please. But the ink has only written the usual suspects, whispering the theorems in dark corners, muttering about the incompleteness of a set, the need for Logic, not Logan, and how to jump through the little loophole again.

 It’s not exactly hard for the others to tell.

 Lolo hasn’t been looking great. Sure, he’s all pressed and dressed, glasses perfectly in place, tie done up just so, walking around like everything’s just totally and completely fine, but it’s in his face. Object impermanence aside, normally when Remus bugs him, he reacts in some way.

 Sass is an emotional response and you won’t convince him otherwise.

 Whether it be a wry comment, effortlessly fixing whatever Remus has done to him this time, or even just a look, Lolo does something.

 Not anymore.

 Now he’ll just kind of…sigh and move on? He’ll fix whatever it is only if it’s directly interfering with what he’s trying to do, or when Patton or Virgil come round the corner and freak the fuck out because you’re bleeding! Then he’ll fix it.

 Remus wouldn’t say he’s bored, but he’s worried.

 Mainly because the intrusive thoughts…aren’t what he’d consider intrusive anymore.

 Take a shower.

 Eat something that isn’t just a granola bar.

 Go to sleep.

 Ask someone for help.

 See?

 If those are Lolo’s intrusive thoughts, then what the fuck is normally going on in his head?

 Remus waits. Waits. Keeps waiting.

 The instant his mouth tastes like ink again, with a question of whether or not Logan should take a break, he sinks straight into his shower. He washes his hair thoroughly, gets every single bit of grime off him he can, and puts on the softest pajamas he has—thank you, Roman—and drops himself outside of Logan’s door.

 He strains, mouth still full of ink, to hear anything other than the soft click, click, click of Logan’s keyboard.

 He can’t.

 Fuck.

 He knocks.

 “One moment, please.”

 Indeed, a few seconds later, the door opens to reveal Logan, looking as annoyingly pristine as he always does, surprised to see him.

 “Remus? Did you need something? Why…” he trails off as he takes in what Remus is wearing. “What’s wrong?”

 “Can I come in?”

 “Of—of course,” Logan stammers, moving aside to let him in, “are you alright?”

 “Should be asking you that, Lolo.”

 “Remus, you’ve just knocked, first of all, on my door and asked to come inside.” Logan adjusts his glasses as he sits at his desk. “This is extremely out of character for you.”

 “Uh-huh.” Remus flops onto the bed. “You know what else is out of character?”

 “Not wearing your costume?”

 “Not hearing intrusive thoughts.”

 Logan’s eyes widen. “Has—is there something wrong? Are you not hearing any? Do I need to get Roman?”

 Remus frowns. “Why’s it so easy for you to do that?”

 “Do what?”

 “Care. Try and take care of me.”

 Logan blinks. “Because you deserve to be taken care of, Remus. Your needs are important.”

 Remus idly toys with a loose thread on one sleeve. “Why?”

 “Why? Why are you important?” Remus nods. “Because you’re—you’re an important part of Thomas, you’re important to us, and we care about you.”

 “So it’s easy for you to care for me because…you do?”

 “As simple as that sounds,” Logan says with all the softness that should be directed at himself, “yes.”

 Remus nods. “I’m not having problems with hearing intrusive thoughts.”

 “You’re—you’re not?” Logan sighs, relaxing a little back into his chair. “Then why did you say you were?”

 “Because the thoughts that I am hearing aren’t really what I’d consider intrusive.”

 Logan frowns. “Like what?”

 Glad you fucking asked.

 “‘Take a shower,’” Remus says, his eyes fixed firmly on Logan’s face, “'eat something,’ ‘take a break,’ ‘go to sleep.’”

 He watches Logan’s face tense.

 “Sound familiar, Lolo?”

 “You—I—my apologies,” Logan manages after a moment, adjusting his tie, “I did not mean to be an inconvenience. You are correct, those are not intrusive thoughts, I’m not sure why you’re hearing them.”

 He turns to his desk and begins to fish around for a notebook.

 “That is quite intriguing, I wonder what the possibilities for hearing other types of thoughts are, considering—“

 “Lolo.”

 Logan pauses, turning back. “Yes?”

 Remus fixes him with a look, getting up and walking toward him. “They are intrusive thoughts, Logan. The issue is that your intrusive thoughts are about you taking care of yourself.”

 Logan freezes.

 “W-well, I’m sure that it’s nothing to be concerned about.”

 “So either you can admit that was a lie or Janny’s about to get summoned.”

 “Remus,” Logan sighs, “it’s fine. As you said, these aren’t what are traditionally considered intrusive thoughts, it’s nothing to be concerned about.”

 “No, Lolo, it is,” Remus argues, “because it means that the thought of you taking care of yourself is so foreign, so fucking out of the ordinary that not only does it happen to cross your mind—“ he takes Logan’s chair and spins it around— “but you try to force it out.”

 Gotcha.

 Logan looks anywhere other than Remus’s face and tries to stand. Only to wobble and crash back down.

 “Easy,” Remus says quietly, resting a hand on his shoulder, “you haven’t eaten in a while.”

 “But I have work.”

 “But you need food.”

 “Remus—“

 “Logan.”

 At Logan’s honest-to-fuck pout, he sighs, dragging the poor nerd up and out the chair and sitting him on the bed.

 “Why do you think you don’t deserve to be taken care of?”

 “I didn’t say that—hey!” Logan blinks up at him, scandalized and covering his stomach. “Why did you poke me?”

 “’S what I do when Janny won’t tell me the truth.”

 “I wasn’t—okay, okay!” Logan covers his stomach protectively as Remus readies another poke. “I just…I’ve already asked for help for this before. I shouldn’t have to again.”

 Remus sighs and lightly flicks the side of his head.

 “Hey!”

 “Virgil tries that too.” He stares hard at Logan. “Come on, Lolo, you can do better.”

 “It’s not your jobs to take care of me.”

 For fuck’s sake…

 Remus reaches out and tugs gently on Logan’s tie.

 “Remus, what—“

 “You taking more books outta Patton’s library now?” Remus tilts his head. “You don’t have to beat around the bush, Lolo, just be honest.”

 “I am being honest!”

 “You’re not lying, but you’re not being honest.” At the poor nerd’s confusion, he sighs and fixes his glasses on that cute nose. “Just talk to me, Lolo.”

 “I—“ Logan sighs and oh fuck why does he look so tired?

 Well, because he hasn’t been sleeping.

 Or eating.

 Or taking care of himself.

 Unbidden, part of his conversation with Roman flashes into his head.

 “Self-harm can be self-denial too.”

 “Lolo?”

 “It’s bad enough that I’ve made you all worry about me,” Logan says finally, “I would hate to be a burden.”

 Oh, Lolo. “You and Roman, huh?”

 Logan looks up warily. “What do you do with Roman?”

 “You know what I do.”

 Logan sighs. “May at least take my glasses off first?”

 “You might wanna change too, I’m not letting you up for a while.”

 Logan stretches to place his glasses on the nightstand and poofs himself into a t-shirt and boxers. He sighs and opens his arms.

 Remus takes two running steps and tackles the poor nerd onto his bed.

 “Ah!”

 “Am I hurting you?”

 “No, no, just—just a little startled.”

 “Mm.” Remus snuggles closer into Logan, his arms wrapped tightly around him. “So. Wanna try one more time?”

 Logan sighs, deflating them both to the bed. His head lolls to his left, eyes on his open computer screen. Remus follows it, barely suppressing a growl as he stretches his arm out to save whatever’s on screen and shut it.

 “I know what I’m supposed to be doing,” Logan whispers, “I understand the process, I am aware that healing is not a linear concept, I know it’s going to take time, I—I understand.”

 Remus looks down, giving him an encouraging squeeze. “But?”

 “It’s hard,” comes the soft confession.

 Oh, Lolo.

 “I know,” he murmurs, leaning down to hug him properly, “I know, Lolo, I know it’s hard. But you can’t try and do it all yourself, you’ve gotta remember that we’re here for you, we care about you.”

 “But why?”

 Remus smiles and cuddles him tighter. “You said it yourself, Lolo. We care because we do.”

 “O-oh.” He feels Logan’s throat work as he swallows. “Thank you, Remus.”

 “Of course, Lolo. I’m guessing that sinking us to the living room so everyone else can spoil you is a bad idea, right?”

 “Yes.” Finally, finally, he feels Logan shyly tighten his grip on him. “Can we just…stay like this?”

 “Do I have your permission to hold you hostage until you fall asleep?”

 “Yes.”

 “Then go to sleep, Lolo,” Remus murmurs, “I’m not going anywhere.”

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#dragonbabbles #fic #sanders sides #logan sanders #remus sanders #sympathetic remus #janus sanders #deceit sanders #sympathetic deceit #roman sanders #logan angst #virgil sanders #patton sanders #self harm #tw self harm #tw: self harm

[squishneedsahero]

A Swing and A Miss

Awesomest of Them All 2.0

Part 9 of 13

Word Count: 2001

Batman x Batmom!Reader

You know what the bat family needs? Someone to pull them together and give them all the love they deserve. Who better to do that than you? An author rising to stardom in Gotham who catches the eye of a billionaire with your standoffish attitude at a huge social gathering. You are yourself and never pretend to be more or less than that. Plus you're the most stubborn person in the world, refusing to let good things go without reason.

This is a rewrite of my story Awesomest of Them All, I wanted to see how much I've improved over 3 years.

You and Bruce had been sitting on the couch together when his phone went off, it was a phone call. Who it was from you didn't know, all you knew was that he got up and went to the other room to take it. He doesn't usually do that, but on the rare occasion he does leave the room to take a call you don't mind as it's usually for a good reason.

Bruce walks back into the room, pinching the bridge of his nose, looking done. "I need to go take care of something. I'll be back later."

"What is it?" You try to ask, and aren't surprised when Bruce doesn't answer. "Okay, I'll see you when you get back," you say going up and kissing him gently on the lips. He kisses you back then heads down to the cave.

You don't sit back down, instead going to find something to do, to occupy your mind while Bruce is gone. Something had him upset but until he was ready to talk about it you weren't going to get it out of him, so that meant you got to either worry or keep busy.

Keeping busy was obviously the better option, so, you went and found the kids to sit in the same room as them. There's your two sons, Dick and Tim, your one adopted daughter Cass, plus Stephanie and Barbara who were like daughters to you.

"Hey mom," Dick says, looking up from where he was on his phone next to Babs, "where's dad?"

You shrug slightly, "not sure, he said he needed to take care of something and took off towards the cave."

"Oh, you want me to go check on him?"

"Not yet," you smile at your oldest who was always trying to take care of you, "he just left. I'm pretty sure he just needs to figure it out on his own first then he'll let me know what's going on."

"Alright," Dick concludes the conversation, but you can feel the eyes of the other kids on you.

Cass catches your attention and signs, "you can come sit with us," from her spot on the couch. She then pats the empty seat next to her.

You thank her in ASL with a hand to your chin as you go take a seat next to her. Cassandra was quiet, having an easier time communicating through asl than out loud. It always made you smile on the rare occasion you got her hear her soft little voice, and to know she was comfortable enough to talk to you, but you had learned sign language specifically for her, wanting to make sure she was comfortable all the time.

You gently put an arm around her and kiss the side of her head, then you go to remove your arm, knowing she doesn't always like to be touched. But she stops you from letting go of the hug and leans against you, maybe she just knew that you needed it at the moment to help get your mind off Bruce but either way, she didn't let go so you didn't either.

Stephanie scoots closer to you, taking the other seat next to you and offers you a controller. "We're playing Mario Kart, you want to play a few rounds Mrs.Wayne?"

You laugh gently, "I'm afraid I'm a bit out of practice, all of you would easily kick my ass."

"Come on, pleeeaaaasssee mom," Tim joins in in begging you with his ex, turned best friend.

You laugh and take the controller, "fine I guess I'll try a few rounds."

"Yes!" Dick joins in, cheering you on as Babs gets things set up.

Tim had hotwired the two Wii's so all of you could play together without having to figure out how to do it online. So, the six of you were easily able to start a game and begin racing the many different tracks just having fun together as the kids knowingly distracted you from your worries.

It's a more than a few hours later when Bruce returns home. The kids had all gone down to the cave to get ready for patrol, and you had gone with them. They were about to head out when the roar of an engine cause everyone's attention and Bruce parked the bat mobile and got out, looking stressed and tired.

Dick goes over to him and tells him they're going to head out, and can cover things tonight.

Brice nods and doesn't argue, simply turning to look at you as the kids leave. He doesn't approach you until they've all left and you don't give him a choice but to hug you as you hug him.

"Do you want to change?" You ask, knowing he's obviously upset about something, but willing to be patient while he figures out what it is he needs to tell you.

"Sure, I'll change and we can go sit in our room," he says and kisses the top of your head before turning to get out of the batsuit.

It doesn't take him long to change, and the two of you head upstairs, hand in hand and take a seat on the couch in your bedroom. He just holds you for a while, obviously thinking through what he needs to tell you, and this only causes you more worry.

"Bruce, my love, you know you can tell me anything," you try and reassure him with a kiss on the cheek.

This reassurance works, as he finally speaks up, gently saying, "I have a son, he's 9."

This surprises you, and you don't exactly have a good response, you lean back away from him to look at his face as you quietly ask, "you have a biological son?"

"Yes, I didn't know until today, but he's 9... we've been together 11 years, my love-" this is when he begins to break his normally stoic demeanor.

This is also when you catch on to what he is saying. You had been with him at the time this child was conceived. That hurt. You turned to look away from him, not moving away but taking a moment to think.

There's a few minutes of silence before you speak, "how did it happen?"

You give him a chance to explain and he jumps on it, beginning to tell you what he knows. Starting with the fact that Thalia Al'Ghul was the mother, how she had apparently drugged him in order to have a child with him. His son had been raised by the League of Assassins, taught that he was the one to inherit the mantle of Batman.

It was... a lot. And it hurt to hear, especially due to the fact that you and Bruce had been unable to have a child of your own for many reasons. But, you turn to your husband, the man you were still head over heels for and say as gently as you can, "I'm not sure what I'm feeling right now but it isn't anger."

He looks at you and brushes your hair out of your face, "are you sure you're alright?" He's clearly still worried about his standing with you.

You gently lean to kiss him on the lips, "I'm not sure I'd call it alright, but we will be fine. My husband isn't a cheater, and that would be my biggest worry."

You can see more of the stress and worry leave his face as you speak and he pulls you into a tight hug. "I am so sorry my love. Thank you for giving me a chance to explain-"

You lean back from him once again, taking your hands to cup his cheeks. "Bruce, you didn't know. She drugged you and I trust you enough to know that's the truth. I'm going to need some time to get used to the idea, and figure out exactly how it is I am feeling. But promise me that we will be open and communicate about all of this as we get more information, deal?"

Bruce sighs in relief, "Deal," with that he wraps his arms around your waist and kisses you deeply.

It's at this point he informs you that Thalia had sent Damian, their son, to live with Bruce for a time. Damian would be coming the next morning and Bruce hadn't been able to have any say in it, barely able to convince them to wait long enough for him to talk to you first. It was yet another thing you could only describe as a lot but this was life, you had to roll with the punches or you'd never be able to move forward.

Two days later you still had yet to meet Damian. You were ninety-five percent sure it was because the boy was avoiding you. You sat eating breakfast and contemplating this when you hear someone behind you say, "Tt, you must be my father's harlot."

You raise your eyebrow and turn around to face the boy, "Harlot?"

"That is what my mother calls you," Damian says looking at you disgustedly.

You are so exhausted by this entire situation that the sass just slips out of you and you laugh. "I mean, that's one way to go about saying she's jealous of me because I have a ring and she doesn't."

Damian is clearly surprised by the fact that you just laughed off him calling you a harlot. He, "tt,"s again and just walks right back out of the kitchen, unwilling to admit you had surprised him.

You watch him leave, and he passes Bruce as he does. Once Damian is gone you shake your head and go back to your breakfast.

"I see you've met Damian," Bruce comments.

You offer him a slight smirk and a shake of your head, "yep, finally showed himself just to call me a harlot."

"A har-" Bruce starts, clearly outraged by the fact that anyone would dare call his beloved wife a harlot.

"Yeah," you laugh again, "he left just as fast because I laughed at the thought."

Bruce sighs, relaxing with how you had taken it, he takes a seat next to you and wraps you in a hug. "I'm glad that you didn't let him get to you."

"Yeah, though as far as introductions go, I think he's going to take some getting used too."

"Yeah, he's quite the character after being raised by the LoA."

You smile and lean against Bruce as you finish your food, "yeah, but eventually he'll have to figure out I'm just as stubborn as him for having put up with your shit for this long," you tease and he laughs.

It's a few hours later the next time you see Damian and he tries to insult you in yet another way, "you're weak, and would never be able to take anyone down. You aren't worthy of father."

This one is creative, you'll admit that but you shake your head. "I never claimed to be a fighter, if you'd stuck around earlier I could have told you that. Though, the first time I met your 'father," you say mocking his tone, "I kicked a green haired clown in the head so that has to count for something."

Damian once again just leaves, you weren't supposed to take these things so well, you were supposed to run off crying, not agree with him.

This goes on for a while, him trying to insult you and you just not having it. It goes on until he stops, knowing he'd have to find some other way to get under your skin. Meanwhile you try to get to the bottom of his behavior. Why does he feel like he needs to put you down in comparison to his mother and how can you show him he can trust you enough to not have to do that to keep a place in this family? It might take a while but you'd sure as hell figure it out.

#batfam #batfam x you #batfam x y/n #batfam x batmom #batfam x reader #batman x you #Batman #batmom #batmom reader #batman x batmom #batman x batmom!reader #bruce wayne #bruce wayne x batmom #bruce wayne x you #bruce wayne x reader #bruce wayne x y/n

[marchtomydrums]

In the beginning 18

Final

Alex Cabot X Casey Novak X Reader

Rated M

It's been 12 hours and we can finally take you home. Casey and I both are so eager to have you back. Your siblings decide to stay here for a couple of days in a hotel. Finally, we get you settled in. Casey has you sitting up in bed so we can talk to you and give you your medicine. I'm nervous about telling the two of you what happened. However, I don't want a repeat of the last few weeks.

“ I have to talk to you two about something.” I breathe out heavily. You and Casey both stop and look at me.

“Umm, Saturday night a few of us from the meetings went out to the bar. Emma went too, we all got pretty drunk. Emma helped me back to my room. We were both really drunk and she kissed me. Once my brain caught up with me I pushed her away. I told her I was in a relationship and that I was also her boss. She was upset but she left. I’m telling you both now because I don’t want to make the same mistake again. I was wrong and I should have listened to both of you. I’m asking you two now how do you want me to handle this?”

Casey has some tears in her eyes but she’s focused on you as am I. I hold my breath waiting for you to respond. The silence is almost deafening. Finally, you left your head “that’s all that happened?” You mumbled softly.

“Yes. I swear to you. Nothing else happened.”

“Okay. Thank you for telling us.” I give you a small smile.

“Casey?” I question looking at her.

“I’m okay. I mean I’m not happy she kissed you but I’m happy you handled it and that you told us.”

“What do you two want me to do? What makes you more comfortable? I can replace her or I can reassign her somewhere. I can tell Jack what happened. I’ll do whatever.”

I tell the two of you hoping you know I mean it. This is all my fault, none of this would have happened had I’d listen to you in the first place.

While this storm is brewing in my head I can’t help but look back and forth between the two of you.

“I’m not sure what to do Alex. “ you tell me looking to Casey for guidance.

“Why don’t we just settle in for tonight and we will play it by ear. Okay?” Casey asked looking between us. We both nod our heads at her.

“Good. Now let’s get y/n settled in. And I don’t know about you two but I could use some cuddles.” Casey says flashing a smile.

After we eat and get our medicine situated the three of us cuddle together in bed. Casey and I holding you extra tight tonight.

The next morning I had to wake up early to meet with Jack. He wasn’t very thrilled that I left Sunday morning. An hour later I’m back in the penthouse outside of our bedroom door listening to you and Casey.

“What do you think about what Alex told us?” Casey asked you as her fingers ran through your hair.

“ I’m not sure. Part of me is mad that Alex didn’t listen. The other part is mad at Emma for kissing her.”

“Yeah, I understand that. What do you think we should do?”

“I don’t know. I’d like it if Emma was far away from her but I also don’t want to jeopardize anything for Alex. I mean this could very well happen again. People like Alex they’re drawn to her. I can’t get mad about everything.”

“Right. But hopefully, if there is a next time she’s learned to come to talk to us. I think she has since she told us about Emma. “

“Yeah. Maybe.” You mumbled against Casey's chest. I watch you two for a minute before I head back to the office. I need to have another conversation with Jack.

Later that day I sit down with the two of you at dinner to discuss my conversation with Jack.

“She’ll be here for two more weeks until she can transfer and for me to find a replacement. “

“Why did you do that?” You ask me. I sigh pulling you into my lap gently.

“Because my love, this is my fault and I needed to take care of it. I don’t want either one of you feeling uncomfortable or feeling like you had to make me make a decision. I won’t put either of you in this position again love you..both of you.” Casey reaches across the table and grabs my hand giving it a gentle squeeze “I love you too” She says sweetly. I lean in to kiss her lips pulling back I kiss your head inhaling the scent of your shampoo.

“Say something, my love,” I whisper to you. You snuggle into me more turning your head slightly so our lips can meet.

“Thank you.” You whispered against my lips.

“You don’t have to thank me. I knew what I had to do. You two are more important than anything else. Don’t forget that.” You smile at me and the three of us head to bed.

Two weeks later….

You’re feeling better now but you still have one more week at home and it’s killing you. However, you decided that today you’d meet Casey and Alex for lunch. Walking into the office you head to Alex’s office knocking on the door. Waking in Alex smiles and greets you.

“Hi, my love. If you’ll give me 10 minutes I’ll be ready okay.”

“Okay. I’ll go see what Casey is doing.” You smile going to walk out.

“Wait.” You stop at Alex’s request. She smiles curling her finger telling me to come to her. You walk over to her chair and she pulls you down for a kiss. You smile against her lips and kiss her back. Once she’s done she pulls back from you and smiles.

“Okay, now you can go.” You laugh shaking your head as you walk out. Heading down the hall you go in search of Casey unfortunately you run into Emma.

“Oh hi, y/n.”

“Hi, Emma.”

“I thought you wouldn’t be back till next week?”

“Yeah I’m here for lunch being stuck inside is killing my soul. “

“Yeah. I get it.”

You give her a small smile trying to move past her so you can go to Casey “well I’ll see you around Emma.”

“Actually, you won’t. I’ve been transferred but you already knew that.” She says with some sass in her tone.

“I know that you are with them.”

“Excuse me?”

“I’ve known since the beginning. You don’t hide your jealousy very well. “ you snort looking at Emma with a what the fuck expression before walking off. She’s not worth it you tell yourself.

“Just so you know…you’ll never be good enough for them. Well, maybe Casey but not Alex. You don’t fit in her world and you never will. “

You give her a small smile walking off to Casey’s office “Goodbye Emma.” She huffs and goes on about her day. Walking to the office you wonder if she’s right. Are you holding them back? Are you good enough for Alex? For Casey? All thoughts leave your mind when Casey meets you at the door kissing you quickly. You laugh as she tugs your hand in hers.

“I’m starving. Let’s go get Alex.” You nod following close behind her. Alex is handing over some files to Emma when she sees you two.

“You guys ready to leave?” You both nod. She follows you both to the elevators you. As you’re walking you feel eyes on you Emma is watching the three of you leave. You smile towards her as you grab Alex’s hand tugging her into the elevator. As the doors close you lean your body closer to Alex she willing accepts pulling you closer and laying a kiss on your head. Casey is having a whole conversation with herself about food. You smile to yourself thinking about how lucky you’re to have them trying desperately to push the doubts away. The three of you walk a couple of blocks over to your favorite diner completely wrapped up in each other you missed the figure lurking behind you watching you closely.

#law and order svu #stephanie march #alex cabot x reader #lgbtq #wlw #fiction #law and order x reader #casey novak x reader #television #writing #diane neal #three women #threescompany #poly representation #smut and fluff #messy icons

[asthmark]

❝ stuck ❞ l.dh

request → “Hi~ I'm absolutely in love with your work. It makes me so soft uwu. I was wondering if you could write a Haechan one similar to the roommate Jeno one you wrote. About what it's like to just live with him” —@demiwizardstay​

pairing → demon!haechan, reader, guardianangel!mark

word count → 4.5k

a/n → whoops i made this into a demon!haechan au hahaha sorry i hope this is domestic enough for u tho :D

your eyes must be playing tricks on you.

there’s no other reasonable explanation. 

on the other hand, the shadow splayed out ever so comfortably on your couch seems to be very real. it must be just as aware of your presence as you are of its but to your surprise, it isn’t telling you to put your hands where it can see them or demanding to know where all your most valuable items are. it sits there, peacefully as if it owns the place. for a split second you consider the possibility that you walked into the wrong apartment but the key in your hand reminds you that the situation you are in is not your fault in any way. 

“so... are you gonna scream or just stand there?”

the figure’s voice is unmistakably masculine and drips with sass. you know you should feel scared. your heart should be pounding as your shaky fingers dial 911 and you hysterically report an intruder to the authorities and beg them to come fast. however, it seems that this stranger’s calm aura has rubbed off on you as you respond with an equally as unbothered tone.

“well, i would appreciate it if you invited me in.” you pause. “oh wait, it’s my apartment.”

with that, you step inside and go about your regular routine with a calmness you didn’t know you possessed; especially when there was an… unwelcome visitor lounging on your sofa. despite that, you kick off your shoes and toss your jacket somewhere on the floor like you normally would. you twirl your keys around your fingers as you go to turn to flick on the light switch. it rids you of the darkness that had settled upon your apartment and the stranger is completely revealed to you.

the first thing you notice about them is their sun kissed skin that’s littered in the freckles you would compare to the most captivating constellation. although, the stranger’s flawless complexion is the least of your worries considering the two horns that peek out from underneath their tufts of brunette hair. 

you physically restrain yourself from asking for his skin routine and instead opt for yet another sarcastic comment. “all ready for halloween, i see.” your eyes lock onto the appendages, choosing to ignore how realistic they were. “was party city having a sale?”

your comment seems to get your uninvited guest out of his daze as he scoffs. “are you kidding?”

“hey, this is my place, i ask the questions,” you scold.

he ignores you, instead going to tug on his horns. “these are all real, baby.”

you force yourself to maintain eye contact with him, waiting for him burst into laughter and tell you it was all a prank. instead, his unfaltering smug gaze pierces into you. you swear you stop breathing when his eyes flash bright red for a second.

“alright, you can tell the camera crew to come on out.” you glance around hoping this really was just some sort of hidden camera–practical joke type of thing. you half expect ashton kutcher jump out and tell you that you had gotten punk'd but you’re never granted that privilege. your eyes end up back on the boy lounging on your sofa and he returns the stare, eyes narrowed and mouth curved into a smirk.

it was almost… devilish. 

“oh my god.”

“not quite.” he finally stands, stretching his limbs out without a care in the world. “wanna try again?”

you stay silent, mouth slightly agape. there was only one other explanation. 

he’s satan. and he’s also in your living room. and the worst part was how undeniably hot he is.

you regret giving him the satisfaction of your stunned silence as it seems like that was the exact reaction he wanted. he laughs at your expression and it just sounds evil. 

“alright, alright. i’ll tell you what i am. but only because you mortals are always so cute when you’re scared.”

“i’m not scared, you idiot,” you interject without a second thought. “i just didn’t know i’d be selling my soul today. it’s a total bummer. i’m so young, i still have so much to do. i never even got around to trying yoga with ryujin!”

the boy’s eyebrows furrow in confusion. “your soul? did i say i wanted your soul?”

“well, you’re like, satan right? isn’t that what you do?”

he rolls his eyes. “i’m obviously a demon. satan is a loser who never leaves his fiery throne. which, by the way, isn’t as cool as it sounds. we’re not on the best terms at the moment.”

“so... you don’t want my soul?”

he shakes his head vigorously, looking disgusted at the mere idea of it. “what would i even do with it?”

“i don’t know. honestly i’m just going off of what i see in the movies.”

“that was your first mistake, baby.” he makes his way closer to you. “this isn’t the movies.”

“okay, back it up,” you say, attempting to put some distance between you and him.

he raises his hands in defeat as he obeys, retreating back to your couch. 

“why are you here of all places? shouldn’t you be sipping on a piña colada with satan right now?”

he crosses his legs nonchalantly. “like i said, we aren’t on speaking terms. in fact, i’m kind of… banned.”

“banned?” you echo. “from where?”

“hell? duh.” 

you scowl at his attitude. “it’s not my fault you’re on timeout.”

he pinches the bridge of his nose in frustration. “don’t call it that. it’s just a punishment.”

“same thing,” you say, making your way into the kitchen. you weren’t sure if leaving a demon unattended in your living room was the best idea but the initial shock had already worn off. besides, it seemed like he had been in your apartment for a while already. “what did you do anyway?”

“it’s not even that bad,” he grumbles.

“must have been if you got kicked out of hell.” you chuckle to yourself as you open up your pantry, looking for something to stuff your face with. “do you understand how bad you must be if even the devil himself can’t stand you?” 

“i’m not bad, per se,” he says, picking at his nails. “just a little annoying.”

“no kidding,” you grumble to yourself, rummaging through your pantry, in pursuit of your favorite snack. you were sure everything would make more sense once you got some food in your system. when all you find is an empty, crumpled bag where your chips had once been, you whine loudly. “did you eat all my hot cheetos?”

“they reminded me of home!”

“i can see why they kicked you out,” you retort. 

“listen, i get that this is an inconvenience—”

“that’s kind of an understatement.”

“but, this is the only place i can stay. turns out people freak out when you appear in their living rooms. you were the only one that didn’t.”

“yeah, people usually don’t take too kindly to that—hold on, did you say stay?”

he crosses his arms over his chest. “where else am i supposed to go?”

“anywhere but here.”

he gives you an unamused stare, his eyes glinting red once again. 

“i mean, don’t you have any demon friends you can stay with?”

“not here. we avoid earth at all costs. it’s trashy. that’s why this is a punishment.” 

not even you can argue with that. “understandable. well, how long are you gonna be here?” 

“don’t know.” 

you blink at him. “so… you’re planning to crash with me until satan decides to be your friend again?” 

he groans. “first of all, he’s never been my friend. second of all, yes, that was the plan i had in mind when i broke into your house.” 

“broke in?” 

“well, actually i used teleportation powered by the dark arts to get in but i don’t think your tiny human brain is ready for that conversation.” 

“and i don’t think it’d be in your best interest to insult the person you’re currently trying to move in with.” 

that seems to shut him up, as he purses his lips together and stares at you blankly. 

“listen, if we’re going to do this, there’s gotta be some ground rules, okay?” 

he stays silent so you decide to continue. 

“you have to pull your own weight around here. you might be some powerful being of the underworld but that doesn’t mean you get out of laundry day and doing dishes, got it?” 

he seems displeased, if the frustrated huff of air he lets out is anything to go by. 

“and you have to promise me that by staying here you aren’t putting me in any kind of danger.” 

“well, i can’t guarantee i won’t cause problems,” he says, raking his fingers through the hair in between his sharpened horns. “but i can protect you from whatever crap comes our way.” 

you contemplate it. you weren’t entirely sure what a demon like him was capable of but it seemed like it would be a list that was equally lengthy as it was impressive. yet, you still can’t bring yourself to agree to anything. 

as if he senses your apprehensive nature, he grabs your chin, forcing you to look into his hazelnut eyes. you only get to admire the warm tint for a split second before his eyes flash red yet again. they stay glowing longer than any of the previous times; long enough for you to notice how shiny and bright they are, reminding you of ripe cherries. 

“i promise.” 

the tone of his voice is surprisingly firm and definitely the most serious you’ve heard him the entire night. he retreats his hand from you and you find yourself leaning forward, almost craving his touch. his eyes go back to their original hue and you feel yourself regain your senses. 

“what did you just do?” you ask, leaning back from him. “what kind of dark magic was that?”

he tries to conceal his smile but ultimately fails, his pearly whites coming onto display. “that wasn’t magic, baby. i believe you just got lost in my eyes but don’t worry. i would too.” 

you let out a bitter laugh. “oh my god, you’re vain.” 

“do you mortals have to mention him every five seconds?” he chides, grimacing. 

it takes you a moment to realize who he’s referring to but when you do, you erupt in laughter. “really? that gets to you? you’re pretty sensitive for a big and bad demon.” 

“i have a name, baby.” 

“so do i.” 

his lips curve into a coy smile. “donghyuck.” 

you give him your name in response, not even bothering to think about it twice, much to your surprise. most would probably be more hesitant to introduce themself to a demon, much less invite them into their home. 

yet here you were, doing both. 

he offers you nothing more than a grin—it seemed more genuine than the last—before turning on his heel to make his way farther into your apartment. “so, where will i be sleeping? i was thinking your bed would be ideal.”

“well, i was thinking you could start with a thank you,” you suggest, trailing after him. 

he saunters down the hallway, twisting the knob of the door second to the left and peeking in. you can only imagine how much snooping around he had done before you had arrived, judging by the fact that he maneuvered your home so expertly. 

he hums as he scans the room as if it’s the first time (which you’re sure it’s not). “it looks comfortable enough for the two of us.” 

you can tell there’s no arguing with him, especially as he steps inside and sits himself on the edge of your bed, hands running over the soft fabric of your comforter. he bounces up and down a couple times, seeming satisfied enough with the mattress. 

in the blink of an eye, he’s underneath the heaps of blankets, tucked in snuggly. 

you exhale, trying to maintain patience. “i can tell this whole dark magic thing is going to be a problem for me.”

even though only his eyes peek out from beneath the polyester sheets, you’re positive he’s wearing an obnoxious smirk. his voice comes out slightly muffled when he answers, “think of it as a blessing, not a curse.”

“we’ll see.” you try to suppress a yawn but it manages to escape you, eyes squinting and your hand clamping over your mouth. “right now, i gotta sleep. hopefully i’ll wake up tomorrow and realize this was all a dream.”

“so, what you’re implying is that i’m a dream?”

“i meant to say nightmare.”

“that’s more accurate.”

as if the dazed tone of his voice didn’t give his sleepiness away, donghyuck’s drowsy eyes and horns sinking into the soft plush of your pillow certainly did. he looked the least threatening right then and there and you decide that this is the donghyuck you like best. you can’t help the sudden urge you feel to curl up in bed right next to him and doze off into blissful unconsciousness. 

“what are you waiting for? get in here.”

could demons read minds too? you can’t be bothered to think about it for another second before you take donghyuck’s very tempting offer and crawl into your bed. you don’t care that you’re not in your pajamas or that you smell like coffee beans, courtesy of the cafe you worked at.

all you can seem to focus on is the feeling of donghyuck’s soft breath against your neck and his oddly cute snores. it was ironic; a demon all cuddled up beside you, sleeping like a baby. you almost giggle at the striking comparison. 

needless to say, you fall asleep with a smile on your face.

+

“you know, it really pisses me off to come home and see you sitting in the exact same position you were in when i left.”

donghyuck rolls his eyes, an expression he’s mastered over time. “what else am i supposed to do? you made it pretty clear that you hate my demonic rituals and that’s kind of my speciality.”

you shrug as you kick your shoes off upon entering your shared apartment. “i don’t know. but binging the entire marvel movie saga can’t possibly be healthy.”

“we don’t have this in hell!” donghyuck exclaims, gesturing to the television his eyes remained glued on. 

“well, you should get used to life on earth considering you don’t know how long you’re gonna be stuck here.”

“i’m already on it. pop culture is actually really informative.”

“not what i meant. i was thinking more along the lines of a job.”

donghyuck finally tears his eyes away from the television to give you an unamused stare. “that’s really funny, y/n.”

“i’m serious! would it kill you to get off the sofa?”

“no. nothing would. i’m immortal, remember?”

you narrow your eyes. “oh yeah, almost forgot. you’re gonna be a bother to me forever and ever.”

“this isn’t the ideal situation for me either. but no need to torture me with low life mortal tasks.”

“bills gotta be paid, it’s a part of life,” you respond, taking a seat beside him. “or else we’ll both be breaking into people’s houses and begging them to move in.”

“i didn’t beg, alright? and i didn’t break in either! i simply...  appeared.”

“that’s even worse.”

“you didn’t seem to mind when you were all snuggled into me this morning.”

donghyuck’s words paired with his taunting tone cause you to feel slightly warm but you ignore it for the sake of a comeback. “you seemed comfortable yourself because when my alarm for work went off your arm was pretty tight around me.”

you swear you see him pout for a moment. “that’s not my fault! there aren’t many people open to cuddling in hell! i was just… seizing the opportunity.”

“since you’re all about opportunities, you should really look into that job. remember what we agreed on? no slacking off.”

“i’m not! just look in the kitchen!”

you know whatever it is, you’re not prepared for it. nevertheless, you tiptoe to said area, hoping your roommate had simply followed instructions and done the dishes and swept. but, of course, that itself is too much to ask as you watch the sink overflow with suds, plates and silverware scrubbing themselves clean and floating into their respective cupboards. a broom dances across the tiled floor, dust flying everywhere. you find that the mess in your kitchen resembles a train wreck; you want to look away but you just can’t. 

you call out to donghyuck, eyes still trained on the chaos before you, asking, “what did we say about rituals?”

“it’s a little more complicated than a ritual, baby!”

once you finally gather enough willpower to walk away from the kitchen and whatever is happening in it, you return to the living room, placing yourself in front of the television that donghyuck is so entranced in. 

“you’re coming with me to work tomorrow, got it?”

donghyuck groans for a second before rolling his eyes dramatically hard. “fine. now, can you move? the avengers are about to fight thanos.”

you comply, retreating to your bedroom but not before shouting back, “iron man dies!”

you shut your door, donghyuck’s frustrated screeching still coming through loud and clear.

+

your phone alerts you that it’s 6 am by playing an alarm so loud donghyuck falls out of bed. comically enough, it’s the loud thump! that comes when donghyuck makes contact with the floor that really gets your eyes to flutter open. you peek over the edge of the bed, every bit of grogginess leaving your body the second you see your roommate tangled in your sheets, limbs sprawled on the ground. 

“are you okay?” you ask, laughter lacing your words.

“doing just fine,” he mumbles in response. soon thereafter, his eyes shut once again.

“hey! no way are you going back to sleep, we have work!” 

you drag yourself out of bed over to where donghyuck lays, attempting to resume his peaceful slumber. you grab his arms, attempting to hoist him up. you’re almost positive he’s making it more difficult than it should be as he lets his body go completely limp in your grasp. when you finally get him standing upright, he smiles lazily at you, obviously still half asleep. 

“c’mon dork, you need to get ready. you’re gonna make some cash today!”

+

donghyuck makes it clear he understands nothing as the morning progresses.

he doesn’t get the importance of being on time or even working in the first place. he offers to just take out your landlord, which according to him will “solve all your problems”, more times than you count and you’re sure that if he mentions it one more time you’d actually consider it. he also claims he doesn’t understand the concept of a shower, asking you to help him out, yet the knowing smile on his face lets you know he’s more than well aware of what it entails. unfortunately, you realize this after spending more time than you’d care to admit explaining the concept of getting naked to him in a tight, confined space to him only for him to request a demonstration. 

upon leaving your apartment, more new things are revealed to donghyuck. you can’t help but admire the wonder and awe in his eyes. the adoration quickly wears off when he throws a temper tantrum at the subway station, refusing to board it and you have to physically force him on and promise that no, he won’t get trapped inside.

despite the slight bumps in the road, you arrive at your shift with time to spare. the clock tells you that you won’t have to be behind the counter for another five minutes so you grab your apron and provide donghyuck with one too. you give him quite possibly the quickest tour of the cafe ever and explain to him over five times what you were there to do (“so, we just take people’s orders? we serve them?” “and they pay for it.” “just when i thought it couldn’t possibly get dumber”). you end putting him on cleaning duty since you were well aware of his lack of social skills. he frowns when you tell him he has to do it himself, no magic allowed. the last thing you needed was someone getting nearly knocked over by a levitating broom and bringing it to your manager’s attention. speaking of—

“good morning, y/n,” greets doyoung. his hair is slicked back and his eyes shine, as always. “always a pleasure to see you on your shift.”

donghyuck watches you cautiously, observing the way you smile nervously and avoid meeting doyoung’s eyes. he assumes he has some kind of authority over you. 

“and hello there. who might you be?”

doyoung is now very aware of donghyuck’s presence, giving him a wide smile but a menacing stare. you don’t get a word out before donghyuck’s giving him a polite smile and nod of his head.

“i was just hired, y/n is showing me the ins and outs. i honestly could not be happier working under leaders like you, sir.”

doyoung hums, obviously enjoying donghyuck’s praise enough to let it blind him from the fact that you hadn’t even been hiring in the first place. “sir, huh? haven’t heard that one before.” 

donghyuck holds his breath, wondering if he had overdone it.

“i like it. you seem like a hard working fellow. glad to have you on the team.” your boss gives him a firm pat on the back before walking away, probably to go scare some other employees. 

donghyuck sticks his tongue out at him once his back is turned and you simply laugh, smile still present on your face when your first customer arrives.

+

“i’m here!”

you glance up from the cash register to catch your coworker rushing in, looking frazzled… as always.

“hey mark,” you greet, giving him a welcoming smile. “i’m so glad you’re here. there’s been this crazy demand for frappuccinos all day and you know i suck at those.”

mark chuckles as he ties on his apron. “no offense, but the only order you should be taking are the puppuccinos.”

you shoot him the most non-threatening glare possible which ends up with you bursting into a fit of laughter. “i’m not even gonna argue with that.”

“hypothetically, if i made doyoung’s coffee explode on him but made sure he didn’t know, would you be mad?”

you roll your eyes at donghyuck’s bold entrance yet you still giggle. “at this point, i say go for it. ooh, maybe we could even sneak out while he’s cleaning it up. what do you say, mark?”

where there would usually be a giddy laugh, there’s nothing but silence on your coworkers behalf. you put a pause on counting the money in the register to steal a glance at mark who’s eyes are dead set on donghyuck who also seems to be intensely focused on the blonde. 

“demon,” mark mutters.

you feel yourself freeze up; how could he possibly know? despite the panic that settles upon you, you’re sure donghyuck will find a way to handle the situation. you expect a lie, maybe even some magic if the situation called for it. when you see his lips curve upwards sinisterly, you know you’re in for an entirely different outcome.

“angel.” there’s a teasing lilt in donghyuck’s voice; it sends chills up your spine.

mark’s jaw is clenched and you know he’s equally as tense as you are. “we should go, y/n.”

“mark, he’s just—”

“now.”

the sudden desperation yet dominance in mark’s tone is even more alarming than donghyuck’s. 

“you know,” donghyuck begins, rounding the counter, dramatically. “i’ve never been a fan of the way guardian angels think they own their person.”

you swear your brain shuts down. there was no way you had come into contact with a demon and now an angel—your guardian angel. and there was definitely no way it was your closest coworker, right?

“it’s our responsibility—she is my responsibility.”

donghyuck folds his arms as he gives mark a once over. “you won’t mind if i take over, right?”

mark chuckles, begrudgingly. “you know i can’t let that happen.”

“i’m not hurting her, i’d never hurt her.” donghyuck takes his place next to you, wrapping an arm around you. he peers down at you, eyes glowing red for the first time since your first encounter. “my angel.”

you know the nickname is to piss mark off and you assume it works as you observe his hands clench into fists. although, you’re more focused on how the pet name effortlessly rolled off donghyuck’s tongue, like temptation itself. 

“don’t make this difficult for yourself,” donghyuck continues. “you know feelings are dangerous. that’s what they tell you when you first sign up. just don’t let that get you into trouble, got it?”

the tension is suffocating and you almost wish a customer would enter the currently empty cafe to save you from it. although, donghyuck makes sure that you don’t have to endure it any longer as a second later, you’re both gone, only a cloud of red smoke left behind. 

mark stands alone in the cafe.

he had gotten this job for you; to look after you. 

perhaps he had caught feelings, as well.

he assumes that was his first mistake. 

+

when donghyuck takes you back to your apartment, it seems the awkward atmosphere from the cafe has followed you home.  

“uh, can i ask what that was all about?”

“that guy, mark was it? yeah, he’s your guardian angel. i can’t stand it when those guys act like they’re in charge of the person they’re sent to look after,” he seethes. 

you watch donghyuck’s fit of frustration carefully, eyes wide. when he sees how confused you are he can’t help but sigh. 

“i’m sorry, i just… didn’t appreciate him acting like you were his. guess i don’t really like the thought of that.”

you would have to be oblivious beyond compare to not realize donghyuck was completely and utterly jealous. you prod him further, asking, “well, then who would you rather i belong to?”

he glances up at you. “whoever you want, baby.”

“you know what? i think i have somebody in mind.”

not even a second later, donghyuck takes you back in the security of your bed, under your piles of fluffy blankets. what feels most comfortable (and strangely familiar) is the feeling of donghyuck’s arm clinging to you, making you sure you’re pressed right into his chest like a puzzle piece. 

“the person you had in mind was me, right? ’cause if not, this might be awkward.”

your eyes roll back despite knowing he can’t see it. “no, it was mark.”

“not funny.”

your shoulders shake with laughter. “it’s a little funny.”

“whatever, keep laughing. just let me hold you, alright?”

“that would be heaven.” silence settles upon the both of you as you go into nearly hysterical laughter. “get it? because you’re a demon… from hell… and that’s like, the opposite—”

“yeah, i get it, baby.” he pauses. “how many more lame jokes surrounding me being a demon will i have to endure?”

“i definitely have more where that came from so my guess is...  more than you can count.”

he moans in displeasure. “you’re lucky you’re cute… for a mortal.”

#haechan #donghyuck #lee donghyuck #haechan x reader #donghyuck x reader #lee donghyuck x reader #haechan imagines #haechan imagine #haechan fluff #haechan angst #donghyuck fluff #donghyuck angst #nct dream scenarios #hyuck #nct x reader #nct magines #nct imagine #nct dream #nct dream imagine #donghyuck imagines #mark lee #jeno #jaemin #renjun #mark lee x reader #mark fluff #mark angst #mark lee angst #mark x reader #mark imagines

[1dclicheficfest]

The time has come, my dears! We’ve compiled, organized and sorted your submissions and we’re ready to share them! We’ve had so much fun reading your clichés and we hope it’ll give you a good laugh.

Important disclaimer because it has to be said: we do not endorse any of the clichés submitted and these are not meant to spark Discourse™ . This is all in good fun, to spark your imagination and perhaps inspire some prompts!

Before we get to the fun part, don’t forget that prompt submissions open on February 1st and will run until March 28th. The full schedule can be found here.

And now, without further ado, here are your brilliant clichés.

HARRY

Green eyes

Huge eyes

Dimples

Always smirking

“The flirt”

Jobs: Works in a flower shop/Used to be a baker/Frat boy/LA socialite/Mermaid

“Quirky”

Clumsy/balance issues

Health nut/Workout junkie/Eats a lot of avocado and kale/loves yoga/gross green health smoothies

Very slow speech

Paints his nails

Beautiful long luscious curly hair

Long legs/large hands

Tall/large/big

Nudity/loves walking around starkers

Obsessed with being pregnant/babies

Kind to everyone

Bites his lip a lot

Tells terrible jokes/loves puns

Naive and oblivious

Clothing: Pearl necklace, Chelsea boots/gold boots/boots in general/Gucci everything/Flared, high-waisted trousers/’red and black sheer floral shirt with black skinny jeans’

Always unbuttons his shirt to show off tattoos

Baby seal laugh

Bad at driving

Hipster/takes artsy photos

Acting out for attention/Petty jealousy for no reason or because of a misunderstanding or when anyone comes near Louis

Bad dancer that gives it his all/makes awkward shapes with his limbs when trying to dance

Cat mom/Wine aunt

Resting bitch face

Rides a motorcycle

LIAM

Little clueless

Insecure

Louis is constantly messing with him

Roommates with Louis

Puppy/a lost puppy/puppy in human form/puppy eyes/puppy who doesn’t know how hot and strong he is/loves puppies

Manly muscle man/buff af/loves working out/sweet himbo beefcake

Bullied in the past

Giant heart/incredibly kind/soft/super loyal

Worry-wart/mother hen of the band/gets nervous when things don’t go to plan

Voice of reason/the responsible one/Daddy Direction/level-headed/most serious of the five/keeps the others grounded

Doesn’t know how to let loose and have fun

Lacking in experience/innocent about sex things

Oblivious to his feelings/other people’s feelings for him

Jobs: Firefighter/boxer/athlete

Super soft for Zayn

Protective

“Wants to cry as soon as Louis opens his mouth and doesn’t know if it’s because he’s scared, because it’s too funny, or because he just can’t handle any of it.”

Fear of spoons

Timid/

“being very shy/awkward in the beginning and then getting more confident because of Louis”

Snake habitat turn around!

Can’t spell

His turtle losing a foot

“Smelly pasta house”

Loves batman

Being alpha in ABOs

Unruly curly hair then trimmed to a crisp buzz

LOUIS

Blue eyes: ocean blue/blue as the sky on a sunny winter day/twinkle eyes

Arse and/or tummy as a defining feature

Sassy/sass master/feisty/snarky/cheeky/witty/playful/funny/sarcastic/joker

Flamboyant

Heart of gold/”Louis IS the sun”

“Does not suffer fools gladly (that’s your job you fooking loosah)”/hot-headed to pick fights only in defense of those he loves

Protective/Mama bear/loyal/Daddy of the group

Small/Dainty stature emphasized

Runs fingers through his fringe/hair always styled

Jobs: Footie player, teacher, drama teacher, actor, plays in a band

Loves music and writes songs

Plays footie (even if it’s not his job)

LOUD

Can’t cook/chicken wrapped in parma/”Can’t cook to save his life and if he does the kitchen ends up in flames”

Soft with Harry

School: Studying drama, being the bad boy, pop!punk Louis

Bratty/petty/snappy

Smoking

Zayn’s partner in crime

Rooms with Liam

Calls everyone ‘love’/uses too many terms of endearment

Yorkshire accent emphasized/always talks about Doncaster

Clothing: Vans or Adidas shoes/Toms/trackies/braces/red jeans/dressing in comfortable clothes only/no socks/scarf

Very good with kids/loves kids/family-oriented/looking after siblings/having a huge family

Eats junk food only

“The gay who cannot drive”

NIALL

Drinks a lot/Drinks everyone under the table because he’s Irish/Guinness lover/fun drunk/Will sing Gaelic folk songs when drunk/big social drinker-always making friends via alcohol/will kiss anyone when drunk

Food: Eats all the food/doesn’t season his food/loves Nando’s/”100% will take the last slice of pizza and not feel bad about it”/can and will eat you out of house and home/actually eats and cooks healthy but everyone thinks the opposite

Irish/Irish and proud/Wey Hey lads!/leprechaun Niall

Carefree/nothing bothers him

Romantic: falls fast and hard

Captain Niall!/Captain of the ship(s)

Music: guitar always present/Goes into the zone when he has an instrument in his hands - nothing will distract or get through to him/The Eagles fanboy/Damien Rice fanboy

Funny/always laughing/joking around/head back cackle of a laugh

Single/hooks up with a ton of people but no serious relationships/sleeps around/Serial Ladies man/Friends with benefits with multiple people at once/

Turns up the charm 100% and never half-asses it/”Scrunches his hair in thought and knows he looks cute doing so (like girls that purposefully bite their lip)”

Friends with literally everyone/has a thousand surface-level friends that think they’re close to him but keeps all at arm’s length/the greatest friend but also pickiest about who he becomes friends with

Clothing: Constantly shirtless/shorts over trousers/flip-flops as house shoes/gold chain/coin necklace/hoop earring/”golf dad that tucks in his shirts and unironically wears polos”

Obsessed with golf and football/practices his putt in the hallway with an empty loo roll

A bro

Secretly insightful/Tactless but gives essential advice as a result

Secretive/keeps his shit quiet/Definitely the guy with the most secrets

The blond one

Hairy chest

Worst poker face

Finger guns/peace signs

Blushes when he’s excited

Adores Shawn and Lewis

Cares a lot about what others think

Says no judgment but really judges a lot/judges you based on music taste

Rings in at 0 on the gaydar but could surprise you/the only het one

Tries to avoid conflict by remaining ‘on the fence’ and not picking a side

Always the roommate

Face mask selfies

Emotions rotate between sad, sexy, and fun - combination vary

Never a villain

Close with Harry

“Violent masturbating in the next room”

Constant pet names for everyone/”Even has pet names for his devices (like his vacuum robot”

ZAYN

Super smart/nerd/wise/The Ravenclaw

Smokes a lot

Secretly very soft/gentle/biggest heart/”His confidence and aloofness hide a sensitive heart of gold”/Bad boy secretly soft

Heart-eyes at Liam/Soft with Liam/”Lee-yum”

Mysterious eyes

Best friends with Louis

Jobs: Artist, tattoo artist, English teacher who loves art, works in comic book store,

Shy/withdrawn/mysterious/brooding best friend/quiet/”Seems intimidating until you realize he’s just shy”/bad boy outside, soft boy inside/”not as cool as he seems but way sweeter”

The artistic one/tortured artist/art student/skater/also does graffiti/spray-paint

Marvel fan/comic book fan/superhero fan

Clothing: Wears his clothes like armor/leather jacket/”He’s the only one with good taste and he knows it”

Most ‘devil may care’ about his sexuality

Family-oriented/family man

Involved with his religion

Model figure/carved by gods/vain but not obnoxious about it

Catchprase is ‘sick’

Needs time alone to recharge

Changes his hair a lot/that one strand of hair that falls over his eyes

Thinks Malibu is called Malabami

“Eats candy underwear off of Harry’s crotch”

#1dclicheficfest #cliche results #resources #masterpost #character cliches

[santastic]

the big, bad wolf || hwang hyunjin oneshot

》》 pairing: hyunjin x female reader

》》 summary: every year, you and the boys celebrate halloween with a party at hyunjin's - who just so happens to be your mortal frenemy. every year, you all dress up. this year, however, you decide to make it a bit more interesting: everyone picks an outfit for their random secret santa partner. it seems like a bit of innocent fun, but felix has an idea...

》》 word count: 2.4k

》》 genre/tags: halloween au, not quite e2l but e2 like...sexy tension???, suggestive themes (mostly just implications), a little bit of crack lmao

》》 warnings: cliche cheesy dirty flirting (come on hyunjin you're better than this), thicc romantic and sexual tension, reader is a simp in denial, suggestive themes, implied smut at the end, talk of biting but no actual biting, reader has dom vibes, hyunjin is bold until someone else is bolder

》》 notes: my first oneshot on this blog! I already wrote a halloween drabble, but I felt like writing something bigger than that and my friend (I see u vi) inspired me by suggesting some spicy hyunjin content. n e ways, happy halloween everyone! and if u don’t celebrate halloween, I hope u have a lovely weekend <3

navigation || skz masterlist

Halloween is always fun with your friend group. I mean, it's fun anyway - lots of cheap candy, neighbourhood celebrations, an excuse to get way too drunk - it's just a lot more fun with eight other crackheads.

You guys have a sort of tradition going by now, even though each year is a bit different. Hyunjin throws the party, Minho brings the alcohol and hides it from Chan until it's too late to stop everyone from getting shitfaced, Jeongin and Felix bring ungodly amounts of candy, and Jisung is a skeleton (literally every single year - it started when you called Tate Langdon's skeleton makeup hot, and it never ended).

Everyone (except Jisung) keeps their costume a secret - unless they're Chan and Felix, in which case they do couple costumes and keep it a secret from everyone else. Sometimes you even decide on a theme, like the year before the last, where everyone was supposed to dress as their favourite Pokemon. This inevitably led to intense fighting roleplays to assert dominance as your respective type, and in order to spare your reputation in the neighbourhood, you decided the next theme would be a little less wild.

This year, the theme was 'secret Santa costumes', meaning you each picked a random name from a hat to decide who you would be buying a costume for and a few days before Halloween, you were given your own costume to wear to the party by whoever pulled your name from the hat of destiny.

Technically that's not how secret Santa works, but no one questions Chan when it comes to holiday business.

You just so happened to get Jisung, and while the temptation to keep the skeleton thing going just for the meme was definitely there, you ultimately decided he should be a classic bedsheet ghost - except with no eye or hand holes cut out. You know, to add a little sprinkle of chaos to his already very chaotic life.

The lovely boy who decided your spooky fate was Felix, who had coincidentally been in charge of buying Hyunjin’s costume too - when you asked why, he said it was because the number of people was uneven, so he had kindly volunteered to take on an extra. You had honestly expected him to pick something weird or wild for you, so you were quite surprised by the outfit he had settled on.

"Is this...little red riding hood?" you had asked, eyebrows furrowed in confusion as you stared at the dress and hood in your hands.

"Yep! I saw it the other day and I thought it would be nice to go for one of the classics, you know?" he had explained, smiling as if he was ever so proud about his decision. Something about the hint of mischief in his eyes made you suspicious, but you had let it slide. "You don't mind, right?"

No, you didn't mind. You had given Jisung a ghost costume, so you didn’t really have room to speak on the originality of Felix’s decision. Besides, the dress didn’t look too cheap, nor did it look especially short, and the hood-cape made you feel way too powerful for someone wearing a $20 Target costume.

So you really didn't mind at all, until it came to the day of the party. Now, as you stand in the doorway to Hyunjin’s apartment, you suddenly mind a lot more.

”Lee Felix, I’m going to decorate the lawn with your fucking intestines, oh my god!” you whisper-yell to the boy who conveniently manages to dart away with the excuse of needing to help Jeongin open all the candy bags. Your angry eyes follow his retreating blue form - Chan picked his outfit this year, and of course he decided Felix should be an Among Us character.

Everyone in the group knows about the slight tension (read: obvious beef) between you and Hyunjin. Technically speaking, you’re friends. He invites you to his parties, you hang out with him when he’s with the boys. It’s just that neither of you can stand each other, because you’re both very bold and even more stubborn.

Whenever the two of you are together, you bicker like children and it’s pretty much endless. You could probably throw insults (and the occasional murder threat) at each other all day if the other members didn’t interrupt, and on those days you’d be more than happy to teach Hyunjin a lesson with a nice, strong punch in the nose if the opportunity were ever to present itself.

So, with this in mind, it’s quite clear why you’re planning Felix’s murder when you see Hyunjin walking around as the big, bad wolf.

You’re genuinely considering sneaking out the front door before anyone else sees you and running back to your apartment (because Felix just so happens to be your ride home), but fate decides to mess with you and suddenly, Hyunjin locks eyes with you from across the living room.

The way a huge smile instantly graces his pretty face sends a rush of butterflies, followed by anger, through you as you stare back at him. His clip on wolf ears are admittedly quite cute, but the fake fangs he’s wearing send your thoughts in a very different direction. As he makes his way over, you suddenly wish you had followed Felix to the kitchen - at least they keep the alcohol in there. In his living room, you’ve got no choice but to deal with Hyunjin while sober.

”Well, would you look at that? Seems like I found my little red riding hood.” he teases with a wink, leaning against the wall beside the door.

When you scoff at him, he gives you another big grin and you can’t help but stare at the fangs again. The vibrant blue contact lenses he’s wearing make his gaze feel intense even when he’s smiling, and the way his long, blonde hair falls freely gives him a glow that’s both angelic and positively demonic. He looks so annoyingly handsome, as per usual; if only his personality wasn’t the personification of the words ‘cocky asshole’. You can’t help but think it’s a huge waste of beauty.

“Excuse me-” you begin, ready to start the first round of arguing, but he cuts you off like the annoying brat he is.

“You’re excused,” he says, thinking his comment was very smart, and if it wasn’t a night meant for fun and games, you might’ve killed him on the spot.

“Fine, excuse you. I’m not your little red riding hood. In fact, I’m not your anything, thank you very much,” you snap, brushing past his tall figure as you head to the table the boys have set up to the side. There’s an array of Halloween-themed food, prepared by Chan, and you settle for a red velvet cupcake decorated with black frosting and what you assume are meant to be cat ears poking out of it.

“Right, sure, but we’re still matching tonight. It’s kind of like-”

This time, you cut him off. “It’s not like Chan and Felix. It’s not. We’re not wearing couple costumes, so don’t say it.”

He shuts his mouth (finally) and you take it as your cue to leave before he says something else to piss you off. Unfortunately, he seems to have the desire to ruin your night further and chooses to follow you on your journey.

“So anyway, I guess this was Felix’s plan, right?” He gestures to your costumes. “Unless you had something to do with it, that is.”

You don’t bother to address the second part of what he said and instead just nod, scanning the room for the previously mentioned mastermind. As soon as you can get your hands on that boy, you swear you’ll slaughter him for subjecting you to Hyunjin’s torturous teasing all night.

“He was already on thin ice after trying to tell me Bulbasaur is a better starter than Charmander, but now he’s actually dead to me,” you growl out once you spot him sitting beside Minho, laughing happily with his classic red solo cup and a slice of chocolate cake. Jeongin sits beside them, tearing open bags of candy with no assistance from Felix, because of course he was lying about helping him earlier.

Hyunjin laughs softly and you curse your heart for skipping a beat at the sound. Sometimes it feels like your head hates Hyunjin while your body is stupid enough to like him, and it’s part of the reason why you hate talking to him so much. Every time you stop throwing insults and sass at him and instead sit back and listen to what he has to say, a part of you realises you don’t exactly have a proper reason for disliking him. He’s not all that bad, and sometimes you even find yourself laughing at his jokes and witty remarks.

But you’d really rather not go through the endless cycle of those thoughts right now, especially when the cause of your problems is standing beside you eating a chocolate bar.

“I have to say, though,” you comment as you turn to look him up and down, “the big, bad wolf concept suits you pretty well.”

Before he can accept the compliment, you continue. “You’re both big, hairy beasts who dress like grandmas.”

The obvious offence on his face is so satisfying you almost wanna snap a photo to reflect on this moment in the future, but you refrain from doing so. He would just pose anyway, and the photo would probably end up making your stupid heart flutter again.

“Well, at least you think I’m big. Besides, if dressing like a grandma gets me closer to eating you, then I suppose it’s a sacrifice I’ll have to make,” he whispers in a husky, seductive voice that kind of makes you want to choke-slam him, but you suspect he might enjoy that anyway.

It angers you when he makes flirty comments like that, because as annoying as they are and despite you knowing full well he only says it to get under your skin, it still makes your heart race every time. Maybe in another universe, Hyunjin is a sweet boy who innocently flirts with you and brings you roses instead of a big, bad bitch who’s just acting like a horny teenager. Annoyingly enough though, you think you’d fall for him either way.

You turn away with the intention of finally escaping to the kitchen to grab something to drink, hoping to settle the thoughts dancing around your head, but he reaches for your wrist. The feeling of his fingers pressing warmth into your skin just makes your head spin even more, and you’re so distracted you don’t pull away from him.

"Aw, don’t run away now. Are you scared of me, little red? There’s no need to be, I’m just joking. I won’t bite unless you beg me to."

You pull your arm back as soon as the words leave his mouth. Hyunjin has a lot of things (a severely irritating personality, a stupidly handsome face for such an asshole, a loud voice solely meant for pissing you off on a daily basis, the list goes on), but the thing he definitely has most is the fucking audacity.

However, the most annoying part by far is the way you feel your face heat up when you register the last thing he said. You’d rather die than let him make you flustered, so you shake your head slightly to clear those thoughts from your mind and look him in the eye again.

"Scared? Me?" you scoff, staring him down with a steady glare and if he was anyone else, he'd probably shiver in fear.

Unfortunately, he is not anyone else. He is Hwang Hyunjin, and Hwang Hyunjin does not shiver; he beams with a smug grin and makes your blood boil.

"Mhm. Look at you. You’re basically dressed as my prey tonight, babe." He purrs the pet name like the absolute fuckboy he is. "And sure, the real you is feisty, but you're all bark and no bite."

The overly confident, proud smirk on his face makes him look like a damn peacock flaunting its feathers, and you decide then and there that you'll do anything to get rid of it.

"All bark," you echo his words, walking towards him slowly, "and no bite, huh?"

You swear you see his eyes widen for a split second at your change in demeanor before the stupid smirk returns, and the little rush of victory you feel from catching him off guard is enough to keep you walking forward.

His gaze never leaves yours, especially when you're standing on the tips of your toes in front of him, noses just barely brushing against each other. Your hands grip his shoulder to balance you, and you run a finger over his collarbone up towards his cheek, where you gently cup his face. The small distance between the two of you means you can hear his slightly uneven breathing and see the curiosity swirling in his bright blue eyes as he waits for your next move.

You reach a hand up and thread your fingers through his long, bleach blonde hair, and his breath hitches when you gently tug at it. Even his wolf ears almost seem to droop submissively. He doesn't dare move, but his eyes keep flicking down to your lips and back up again.

"Now, that's just not true at all, is it?" you whisper, tilting your head as if waiting for an answer, but he can't find the words to form a witty response. It’s about time he learned some manners, really, even if he needed your guidance for that.

"I'm warning you now," you continue, "you might wanna watch your tone. I might look like your prey, but I promise I bite harder than you do, babe."

You make sure to emphasise the pet name, purring it in the same way he did minutes before. He bites down on his bottom lip, and the way his fangs press into them makes you lick your own lips nervously. It seems as though he can't take the tension anymore, because he goes to lean in and finally close the distance between the two of you as his hands find your hips.

Of course, you'd never let him have that control, especially after his bold attitude from earlier. Even though the temptation to lean in is certainly there, you step away from him and smile sweetly.

"Learned your lesson yet, puppy?"

He doesn’t respond for a moment, clearly still taking in what just happened. When he registers your question, he tilts his head to the side as if in thought - the way a dog might, funnily enough - before he hums quietly.

“I’m not sure. Maybe you should teach me once more, little red,” he suggests, voice low and slightly breathless, “but preferably a bit more in depth this time.”

- ᴇ ɴ ᴅ -

(A/N: AHHHHH I haven’t written a oneshot in SUCH a long time oh my god,,,,, it was a lot of fun tho even if I’m not super confident writing full things. this one was short anyway so I kinda feel like it doesn’t count, but I’m still v happy to finally post my first skz oneshot! I hope you enjoyed it and thank you for reading <3)

© santastic  —  all rights reserved. reposting, translating, copying and/or stealing is prohibited. ask permission if you wish to create anything inspired by my original ideas.

#hyunjin #hwang hyunjin #stray kids #stray kids hyunjin #skz #skz hyunjin #hyunjin fic #hyunjin fluff #hyunjin fanfic #hyunjin imagine #hyunjin scenario #skz fluff #skz fic #skz fanfic #stray kids scenario #stray kids imagine #stray kids fic #stray kids fanfic #hyunjin x reader #skz x reader #stray kids x reader #halloween fic #enemies to lovers #e2l #skz e2l #stray kids e2l #skz oneshot #stray kids oneshot #hyunjin oneshot #santastic oneshot

[baby-turtles]

omg i loved that!! please continue with their story!

I’m sorry if this is so crummy … was kinda stuck with where to go with the story. Feel free to send concepts of what you’d like.

Part 2

—————

Arriving home was the usual process of waiting around exiting the plane, collecting baggage heading through customs, I then prayed no media was around just family waiting.

I walked through the international exit I had a quickly scanning the area around thankfully no immediate crazy paparazzi or media waiting around, that I could see. My mum stood there with a big welcome home sign my brother by her side huge smiles on their faces.

As we left the airport I opened my messages to see numerous messages from Grayson and my friends demanding to know what was going on. I immediately called Grayson to let him know I had arrived safely and was on the way home. He apologised profusely for the paparazzi and article hoping it had not effected my arrival home and to be honest it hadn’t really in the sense everything was fine as far as I knew but I also knew I would have to respond to my friends and let them know what was going on. I’d decided once I got home and had a chance to shower, relax and catch a breath I would explain everything to my friends but it was too late as our car pulled up into the drive way I was bombarded with my two best friends waiting at my door. Unbeknown to me there was also a car across the street with a man and his wide lens camera, capturing my arrival home the chaos my best friends were unleashing and my mum snd brother struggling with my luggage, before heading home and promising to be back the following day.

“Welcome home bitch!! What the fuck!” “Yes!!! What clauds said. We’re you not going to say anything? You’re literally all over the explore page on instagram!!”

Yes that’s how you want to be greeted home after a 14 hour flight full of crippling anxiety. But these are my best friends Claudia and Olivia 18 years of friendship between us so I kinda expected it considering my big secret.

“I know, I’m sorry you both have questions and I promise you I have answers but not out here, I need to shower.” I pleaded pulling them into the house. Before noticing the silver Toyota driving off.

“Ok fine we’ll allow it, but you’re insane we hope you know that. Do you know what kind of gossip storm is already brewing on our socials! People we haven’t even spoken to in like 10 years are resharing the photos! Like EMILY!!”

“I figured, I’m sure there will be more too. Did either of you see the silver car across the road when you got here?”

“Mmm no, just your neighbours, why?”

“Nothing never mind. I’ll be back in 10 Im not washing my hair but I need to freshen up, make yourselves at home, as always”

With that I was off to the shower messaging Grayson to let him know I believed someone had already found my house and let him know my girl friends were with me so you weren’t alone. He sent a soppy message in response about how much he missed and loves you. Also that sledge hadn’t stopped whining since he’d come home from the airport, he also reminded not to worry as his people were dealing with it all and that probably laying low for the next couple day until he arrived would be for the best.

As I walked out of the bathroom to the laundry i could hear both girls in the kitchen scavenging for food and complaining at the lack of options you had to offer them in such a crisis.

“You both know I haven’t been here for months clearly I’m not going to have many options to eat” you laughed watching them check all your cupboards.

“Well that’s not good enough in this crisis, we’re ubering Chinese and wine so get talking” Claudia sassed

“Well what do you want to know?” I knew this was going to be a lot for them to take in and weren’t sure you were prepared for their reactions when you eventually revealed what was going on.

“You know me I’m going to keep it simple and Claudia is going to interrogate. Firstly before the interrogation is it serious?”

“I know and I’m ready, but I don’t know if you’re both ready so can we sit in the lounge so we can all be comfortable for my interrogation” I responded before collapsing onto the couch.

“Yes it’s very serious” saying it out aloud made the necklace feel even heavier around your neck.

“Okay so how did you meet him?”

“Tinder, and yes I know I said I would never but everyone was in relationships I was on my own as always and I knew you were both over me complaining so I bit the bullet signed up and found him. To be honest I did initially think he was a catfish but he wasn’t and I’m the happiest I’ve ever been”

“So this has been going on a while then?”

“Well yeah we started talking a year and 2 months ago. We’ve been official for at least 11 months.”

“When you went to America for 2 weeks that was what”

“It was us meeting for the first time and him convincing me I shouldn’t end what we had because we live long distance, he made it official then.” Trying to hide your smile remembering the two weeks of bliss shared was so hard.

“Has he been to Australia in that time?”

“No he’s coming this week so everyone can meet him, well mum and marcus have already met him ‘cos as you know they were in LA for a couple weeks with me”

“So the fams in on it too, I see… What are their thoughts…” this was it, I took my necklace off held the ring in my hand and continued.

“They both love him and his family, given their blessing. They all get along so well, I can’t wait for you both to meet him. Especially because we’re going to have to enact our maid of honour pact.” A pact we made as 16 year olds dreaming of our perfect weddings only to realise we could only have one maid of honour so we made a pact. I would be Claudia’s, Claudia would be Olivia’s and Olivia would be my maid of honour.

In the midst of their screams of horror, happiness, emotion and commotion the door bell saved me for a moment to catch my breath getting our food and wine before, re-entering the madness.

“You’re getting married!!” “Where’s the ring?” “Is it going to be here?” “Holy fuck. This isn’t real!” “Is it?” I just put out my hand ring heavy on my finger tears in my eyes. Thats it. It is actually real. I’m going to be marrying Grayson Dolan.

#grayson dolan #dolantwins #grayson bailey dolan #grayson dolan concept #my writing #graysonfanfic #grayson blurb

[heavymetalover]

Call Me Daddy (Michael Langdon x fem reader)

{i imagined scruffy sojourn michael w this one but i left the description kind of open so yall can imagine whichever teehee}

Summary: Michael is about to become your step dad and the two of you have an unusual relationship…

Warnings: DADDY KINK DUH, smut, dirty talk, fingering, vaginal sex, dom!michael, hickies, rough sex.

WC: 5.5k

A/N: ive done the unforgiven… omg.

this is a different format from my other stuff. i didnt see anyone doing this and yall know me and my daddy issues I HAD TO. PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE anon me, message me, whatever, if you want more parts cuz im down.

~~~~

 You had an average run-of-the-mill life with your mom. The two of you lived in a sizable suburban Los Angeles estate; your mom worked for most of her waking hours to keep you comfortable and you worked your ass off to stay in your top college. You had a few friends that would pop into your life when your mom left town, a few boyfriends here and there, even your mom dated around. Everything felt normal until Michael came into the picture.

Your mom has been dating Michael for a few months now, but every time he’s around he brings an eerie feeling along with him. Despite being nearly half her age, he has the soul of somebody from the eighteen hundreds. The way he composes himself, how he speaks with the utmost confidence and how his stares linger too long; his glacial blue eyes always watch you like he can see right through your clothes. 

You’ve been skeptical of him since the day you met him. When you shook his hand and accidentally removed one of his large rings, he nonchalantly told you to keep it. You decided to sell the huge diamond-encrusted Cartier ring and use the twenty thousand dollars to help pay for college.

Since then you’ve avoided the two of them in protest of their relationship. You knew it was juvenile to evade them, but the man turned you on more than you’d like to admit. His soft-waved blonde hair, fluffy lips, jawline for days, prominent cheekbones, and how can you forget the eyes… Everything about him looked planned, like he was designed to be flawless.

On a mundane weekend morning, your mom calls you from downstairs. “Y/n!” her voice echoes through the halls.

You stop reading your favourite book and take out an earbud. “Yeah?!” you yell back, looking up from the pages for a moment and waiting for her to say something else, but the house is silent. You pretend to ignore her call and go back to the story.

“Y/n!” your mom yells again.

You sigh and drop your book, rolling off of your bed and skipping down the stairs to see what fresh hell awaits. As you approach your mom, who’s opening her mouth to call you again, you smell something unusual. Something you haven’t smelt since your dad left. Cologne.

“Honey, he’s here,” your mom whispers to you, putting a hand on your shoulder. You try turning away to run back to your room, but your mom stops you. “Can you be nice for once, please?” she begs, squeezing your shoulder.

“Whatever, let’s get this over with,” you groan and shimmy her hand off of your shoulder.  

Michael works at the dining table, setting up three plates and utensils. You’re planted to the ground in awe, you’ve never had to eat dinner with the two of them before. It crosses your mind that they must be confronting you about bypassing them these past few months, your fight or flight response is already kicking in.

Michael looks up at you, finally acknowledging you and capturing you in his ocean blue eyes with a nanosecond of contact. Your mom moves in between the two of you and takes some food out of a paper bag. “Michael and I wanted all of us to eat dinner together,” she skips to stand beside him. You widen your eyes at her and cross your arms in objection. She widens her eyes back, you can practically hear her nagging you to be polite.

Michael puts his arm around your mom. “Your mother and I thought it best for us to… start acting like a family,” he says.

Your eyebrows shoot up and you can’t hold back your smile. “A family?” you laugh. You purse your lips and start walking backwards, aching to escape Michael’s spell. “Mmm, I think I’ll pass,” you turn around to start walking away.

“Y/n,” your mom snaps. You stop in the middle of a step and twist back towards them, taking small, reluctant steps to approach their little function. “We have something to tell you,” she says and immediately after, vaults her hand out to you.

You take it hesitantly and look at her, still trying to figure them out and failing. “What?” you ask.

“No, honey, look at it,” she rolls her eyes, “look at my hand.”

You gawk at her hand, her third finger is dressed in a huge diamond ring. It looks big enough to pay off your whole house. You unintentionally let out a dramatic gasp and drop her hand, she continues to hold it up for you. “It’s the bloodiest diamond he could find in the LA area,” she explains, “We’re in love.” She smiles and places her hand on Michael’s chest, looking up at him with hearts in her eyes. He gifts a small kiss on her lips.

You scoff and shake your head. Any tension that you felt from Michael has dissolved. He’s been dating your mom for five months, five fucking months. Who does he think he is? Are they both nuts? “You’re joking, right?” you ask, completely stunned by how brash the whole situation is. “Are you guys pranking me?”

Michael grins at you, it makes you melt and you hate yourself for it. “Call me daddy,” he sneers.

----

It’s a quaint Wednesday evening when you decide to take a break from studying and grab a snack. You’re scrolling through Tumblr when you walk out of your room and smash your face against a sturdy chest. “Jesus!” you gasp, looking up at Michael standing in front of your door; one of his hands is in a fist, ready to knock on your door, while the other is behind his back. “You scared the shit out of me!” You playfully push his chest away from you, trying to shake off the sudden rush of adrenaline.

He drops his fist as he stumbles back slightly. It’s the first time you’ve talked to him since they announced their engagement. Michael moved in about a month ago and it’s been hard to ignore him since he sits, day in day out, typing away on his laptop in your living room.

“Sorry,” he apologizes. “But I have to admit it’s nice to hear your voice again.”

You lean against your doorframe, trying to act casual as if he hadn’t just knocked the wind out of you completely. “Did my mom come home from work or something? She send you here?” you ask, declining his attempts to meet your eyes, instead you stare at his lapel.

“No, I got you something,” he explains, wiggling the surprise behind his back.

“Another Cartier ring?” you joke. “Oh, or is it a new girlfriend? Because that would be even better.” His eyes find the ceiling in annoyance and it feels rewarding, you were starting to think he couldn’t be cracked. “Did you get me an apartment, so I don’t have to live with another failed marriage?”

“No,” he snaps back, starting to sound impatient with your infantile attitude. You straighten up at his belligerent tone. He slides into your room, keeping the gift hidden behind his back. “It’s thoughtful, something I know you’d like, but… if you’re hellbent on loathing my existence, why should I be so kind?” he asks. He somehow manages to speak reserved, yet impossibly intimidating. Every word that leaves his lips demands to be heard, it sends chills down your spine. “Right?” he prompts.

You take in a breath. “Right,” you force yourself to agree, mostly because you’re curious to see what the present is. Another part of you is getting bored of acting like a hermit and going days without social interaction. “Obviously it feels weird; I barely know you and you’re becoming my dad and you moved in, everything just seems so fast,” you explain yourself. You saunter back into your room to meet him. “I’ve been a bitch. I’m sorry, Michael. Seriously.”

He takes a step closer to you, you’re only inches apart. You can feel the heat radiating from his body and fight the urge to wrap your arms around him. “We’ll work on ‘Michael’ later,” he replies. You’re about to question what he means by that when he takes the present out from behind his back. He holds a black bag in between the two of you and you immediately recognize the store. “I heard you on the phone with your friend about something red, lacey, with a bow. I think I found it…”

You take the Victoria’s Secret bag from him without saying a word. You have no words to say. You don’t know if you should thank him or refuse the gift or slap him for listening to your personal conversations. Your mind races wondering if you’d gossiped about his good looks on the phone with your friend.

You silently pry open the bag and paw through the lingerie, mountains of cute panties and bras, digging through things you were never able to afford but always wanted. And, of course, Michael bought the red, lacey one piece you were talking about with your friend. There’s a stillness in the room as you look through the bag. “You bought all of this for me?”

“Yeah, I can’t see how your mom would fit into any of those.”

All of the pieces are just your size, it’s the perfect gift… just not from your stepdad. “How did you even know my size?” you stop looking at the bag and make the mistake of falling into his eyes.

“I went through your clothes,” he carelessly shrugs.

You drop the present by your side. “You went through my clothes, like, my lingerie?”

He slowly nods his head, acting as if it isn’t strange for him to invade your privacy how he did. You huff and he begins looking agitated with you again. “Would you like if I returned all this stuff? I thought you’d like it.”

“I do,” you mutter and kick the bag away from him, you’re not jeopardizing this gift with your uncontrollable sass.

“Good,” he spits back.

“Just… don’t think you can just buy yourself into the family,” you mock. You catch yourself subconsciously crossing your arms over your chest to give yourself a breast lift, but you don’t stop.

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he smirks. He looks down at your cleavage and it feels like all the air is sucked out of the room. “You have quite the collection of lingerie you keep hidden at the bottom of your drawers,” he observes, “like a dirty guilty pleasure.” You peer up at him, again trying to read him, and again failing. He uses one of his fingers to hook onto the thin fabric of your shirt, your tits are practically pouring out and begging to be the center of attention. He tugs at the fabric, looking under your shirt and inspecting your boobs suffocated in one of your intimate Victoria’s Secret pickups. “Kitten’s all dressed up?” he whispers, his fingertips graze the embroidered details.

You bite your lip, anticipating the second he’ll rip the bra off your chest. “It’s all for you,” you tease, pushing your tits together even more, “I’m always dressed up for you, Michael.”

He breathes in, groaning under his breath. “I thought I told you,” his voice is low and intimidating, “call me daddy.”

You’re drinking in a breath of his cologne, shifting onto the tips of your toes to give his soft lips a rugged kiss, when the sound of keys rattling downstairs takes you out of it. Michael still stares at you, his fingers continue to linger over your clothed tits. “Michael!” your mom calls from downstairs.

You look up at him with fear in your puppy dog eyes and Michael grins. He shoots you one last, knowing, glance before leaving your room. He leaves you without saying two words. “Yeah, babe,” he answers your mom, closing your bedroom door behind him.

What the fuck just happened?

----

Holding back your gags, you grasp your friend’s hair as she projectile vomits peach schnapps into an expensive toilet bowl. Her phone rings in her pocket and you huff, digging through the pockets of the leather jacket you lent her and pulling out a vibrating iPhone. You pick up the phone with an ill “hello”, answering too late and looking down at the screen. She must’ve ordered an Uber a while ago, there’s a ton of notifications that the driver’s outside. “Oh shit,” you mutter under your breath. “Your ride is here!” you yell at her, trying to pull her onto her feet.

“What?!” she yells into the toilet bowl.

You roll your eyes and lean down beside her ear, “I said, your ride is here!” you yell over the thumping music.

Your friend stumbles around, trying to stand up in her six-inch heels. You pull her onto you and her head rests on your shoulder, she goes limp against you. “Stop, come on!” you shout over the music. “You have to g-”

You’re cut off by your friend puking onto an expensive mini dress you bought for tonight’s party. This shindig was supposed to be a fun little escape from your school life, your home life, Michael, all your stress. You expected to make new friends, meet hot guys, but instead you came an hour late and have been nursing your friend the whole night. You’re seriously going to kick her ass tomorrow.

“Sorry,” she mumbles, her breath reeking of throw up.

You toss her arm over your shoulder and start walking her out of the bathroom. “I’m going to kill you tomorrow, you know that?” you say in her ear and she lets out a small, apologetic whimper.

A cute guy who was talking you up earlier approaches the two of you. He holds two red cups in his hands and shrugs when he sees you. “What the fuck, y/n? You disappeared on me!” he talks to you over the bass-y music. “I got our drinks!” he shakes the cups in his hands and hands one over to you, as if completely ignoring your drunken friend hanging off of your side.

Your friend staggers, nearly bringing you down with her. The cute guy helps you pick her back up and you sigh, annoyed at how much of a disaster your night has turned into. He knits his eyebrows at your sour attitude, then finding the vomit on your dress, he looks back up at you. You see his doe eyes grow apologetic when he mouths a weak “sorry” to you, stepping out of your way. You shake your head as if telling him it’s fine; you just wish you had more time to get to know him.

You continue dragging your friend along your side and hear someone call out your name from behind you. You whip your head around; your hair irritatingly sticks to your lip-gloss. “Hope to see you again!” he calls after you. You nod in his direction and resume walking your friend, who is nearly passed out on your shoulder, to the front door. When you walk out of the house, you’re assaulted with the smell of salt water. Despite this night turning into one of the most frustrating nights of your life, at least you got to visit a Malibu beach house.

A big, black SUV is parked outside of the house and you rush her to the door. Opening the backseat and stuffing her inside the seats in the back. “The app says where you’re taking her, right?” you ask the Uber driver, your voice sounds muted from being struck by loud music all night.

He nods and reads out her address. “Y/n,” your friend slurs, gripping onto your arm with all her strength, “you’re a really nice… you’re a… you’re a really good friend, you know that? Like, seriously,” she pauses to hiccup, “thank you for taking care of me tonight.” Her words are so slurred that it’s nearly impossible to make out her compliment, but you just nod in hopes it’ll get her to let go. She drops your arm and hands you your pricey leather jacket, bunched up in a ball, before shutting the van door.

You throw on your jacket, protecting yourself from the ocean’s breeze, and watch the van drive away when you notice a familiar car parked across the street. The SUV blocked a four-seater Maserati parked on the other side of the road. Michael’s sedentary in the driver’s seat with a cigarette hanging from his lips. You balance yourself on your ridiculously tall heels and stomp over to his car. He doesn’t even see you coming, he’s leaned back in the driver’s seat reading a book.

You crouch down and knock on the glass of his window. His eyes meet yours for a second and he slowly rolls down the window. A mob of cigarette smoke escapes the car and he chucks the stick onto the pavement. You’re both quiet for a few moments, the crashing ocean waves fills up the silence.  “How did you know I was here?” you ask.

He finally puts down his book and looks at you. “Just trying to be a good dad,” he responds.

“Ugh, ew,” you groan. “You’re my step dad.”

He adjusts his seat to start driving, his eyes looking you up and down as he does. “Looks like your night went a little… rough,” he jokes and nods towards the puke on your dress. “You need a ride?”

You look back at the party. As much as you wanted to live up the night, you’re already in too much of a bad mood to go back in there. It doesn’t help that your new dress is covered in puke, too. You turn back around to Michael, he awaits your answer with a cocked brow. “You can’t tell mom,” you sigh, walking around the car to get into the passenger’s seat. The luxury car’s butterfly doors obnoxiously open up for your entry. “Not a word,” you assure him as you slide into the leather seat.

He starts up the car and one of his Led Zeppelin albums begins to play. “I picked you up at the library,” he quips.

He starts driving along the empty coast and you decide to skip the seatbelt, you don’t want to dirty his car with your friend’s retch. His eyes glance over to your seat for a moment, he notices you second guessing the seatbelt and puts a hand on your thigh. You look up at him and intuitively try to tempt him, biting your bottom lip and batting your lashes. “I’ll protect you if we crash,” he whispers, his fingers lightly caress your thighs.

You put your hand on his and slide him further up your leg. He keeps one hand on the wheel, eyes on the road, but when his eyes do meet yours, it makes all the nerves in your core feel like a wave pool. Your dress is short enough for him to reach your panties without any hassle. Your hand is on his when his fingers begin to rub your pussy, still dressed in a pair of panties he bought you. “Baby’s already wet for daddy,” he says under his breath, kneading your clit in small circles.

You feel your stomach erupt with butterflies, you’ve never felt a nervousness so intense before. A rush of thoughts suddenly violates your mind, you try to shut them up but they keep coming. This is wrong. You shouldn’t be doing this. You’re disgusting for enjoying this. His fingers have been in your mom before.

You dig your nails into his skin and pull his hand away from you; bending over in your seat and clutching onto your stomach. You only had one drink tonight, you shouldn’t be feeling this sick.

“I-I’m sorry,” he stutters, “are you okay?”

“I think I need air,” you grumble through the sudden sickness. “Can you pull over?”

Michael only takes a minute to find an empty parking lot on the beach and pull into it. You get out of the car without saying a word to him and take off your heels, throwing them into the backseat of his car. You’re already starting to feel your anxiety subside as you shuffle through the cool sand and pace towards the erratic waves crashing on shore. This is one of the reasons you loved LA, the tons of tiny, empty beaches. The ocean at night, and how it constantly smelt like salt water, how it relaxed you.

The breeze blew through your hair, a part of you felt like running into the crashing waves, but a voice took you out of it. “Y/n!” Michael called behind you, over the sound of the whistling wind. He trudges in the sand to get to you; you faintly snicker at his dedication. “Are you okay?” he asks once he’s closer to you.

When you see him, face glowing in the moon light, golden locks blowing in the ocean breeze, face twisted with concern, it all settles. Everything feels like it’s in the right place. Your stomach, although still turning with butterflies, no longer feels sick.

There’s a pause between the two of you; both of you deciding to admire each other instead of the beautiful ocean view beside you. Then, it feels like everything clicks. Like the two of you mentally communicate your longing for each other, your desire. Both shutting your eyes and diving in for a kiss at the same time.

His lips smash against yours, sucking your face, and his tongue quickly invades your mouth. He kisses you like he’s craved your lips for years, passionately cleaning up your mouth with his eager tongue.

Michael works your jacket off of your shoulders and you shimmy it to the ground. He unzips your dress, the zip running along your naked back sends a shiver crawling down your spine. He abandons your lips for a moment to pull down your dress, exposing your bare chest and expensive panties. You’re too lost in lust to even realize you’re half naked on a public beach.

You’re both panting and releasing all of the built-up sexual tension. He stands back up and kisses you again, his hands cup your ass and he gives an echoed smack; his fingers creep down your legs. He grabs onto the back of your thighs and hoists you up, you lightly yelp into his mouth and wrap your legs around him. His large hands hold you up and he leans down, resting you onto the jacket you’ve thrown onto the sand.

Once you’re laid down, he begins rubbing your pussy again. His cold rings adding a different sense of pleasure as he rubs you into entropy. He slides your feeble panties to the side and spits down on your cunt, shoving his finger inside you. You moan at the sudden intrusion, taking in a breath of the salt-scented air. “That’s it, baby girl,” he whispers, adding in another finger, “I want to hear you moan for daddy.”

You take in a breath and whimper as he curves his fingers inside of you, slowly pulsing against your g-spot. He touches you as if he already knows which parts make you crumble. “Ooh yeah, daddy,” you cry and grind on his fingers, pushing him deeper inside you, “right there.”

“You’re my dirty little slut, huh?” he asks, gliding in another finger. Your eyes roll back in pleasure. “Little girl likes to get fucked by her daddy?” He adds another finger, completely stretching you out. Your breath gets caught in your throat and you can’t reply. “I asked you a question.”

You meet his cold eyes for a second, before you throw your head back in pleasure. “Yes!” you breathe out, feeling the heat rise in your body. Your sensitive cunt throbs under his gluttonous fingers, persistently fucking you and begging for more. “Yes, oh, keep fucking me just like that, daddy!”

His fingers find a rhythm inside of you, constantly bringing you to the brink of climax and slowing down. “Such a dirty little girl,” he teases and spits on your soaking cunt. He pulls out his fingers and holds them to your lips. You grab his hand and suck on his long fingers, tasting the cool metal rings mixed with the sweet taste of your pussy.

You sit up and lock your lips with his again. Both, you and Michael, unbutton his shirt; you want to feel his flesh against yours as soon as possible. When you get to the bottom, you slide your hands up his body and square the shirt off of his shoulders. His perfect, porcelain skin shines in the moonlight. You want to appreciate it for a moment, but he’s already unbuckling his belt.

He’s propped on his knees, unzipping his black pants and bringing them down to pull his erection out of his briefs. It springs out when you start grabbing for it, he moves back and clicks his tongue. “My greedy little girl,” he mocks, “you don’t get a taste until daddy says you do.”

He pushes you down with one of his hands. His touch is so delicate, yet so commanding. Everything he does is done with conviction and a power that only you could dream of, he is inherently dominant over you. He strokes his long, girthy length over you, you’re practically drooling at the sight. He spits on himself and rubs it into the head. “Spit on it,” he orders.

You sit up and weakly spit on the tip of his cock; it’s too late when you notice your mouth is dry from nervousness. He shakes his head. “You’re so pathetic, you can’t even spit on me right,” he sneers, divorced from the nasty words leaving his lips. He presses his dick against your folds and your fingers curl into your jacket, awaiting the moment he plunges into you. “Say the word, baby girl, say you want me,” he’s lingering at your entrance.

“Please,” you whine, your pussy is beating against his hard cock, “please dad.”

He pushes his head inside you and you grab his arms for support, digging your nails into his skin. He’s so thick, you’ve never felt something so large obtruding your tight cunt. He moves in slowly, reading your stunned facial expressions to see if he should continue stuffing himself inside of you. You let out tiny weeps as he digs deeper into your hole, but you can’t manage much more.

Michael thrusts himself into you until he’s balls deep, even he can’t help but groan. “My little girl is so fucking tight,” he grunts under his breath. He starts to hammer himself into you, going so deep that you feel like pushing him back, but you can’t bring yourself to do it. His cock is so thick that it hits every nerve you could imagine; it’s hard to gather a single word.

He lets out a small chuckle at your reticence. “My innocent baby’s never felt a real cock before, huh?” he taunts, still pounding his length into you. You open your mouth to speak, but settle on shaking your head. One distinct tear runs down the side of your face while stifled cries pass your trembling lips with each time his balls smack into your ass. “You’re taking me like a good fucking girl,” he admires, “my good little slut.”

He lifts up your leg and rests your foot on his shoulder. You’re twisted onto your side, trying to look over your shoulder to see how vigorously he pounds into your cunt. Michael’s new positioning hits exactly in your g-spot, you feel your leg shaking under his grip. “H-holy shit,” your voice trembles, you let out a built-up breath. “Keep going, daddy! Right there, right there, I’m so close,” you’re begging, voice is flooded with desperation. You don’t care how childish you sound, you want nothing more than to come all over Michael’s big dick. “Don’t move, please, please,” you grab onto his arm again.

Tears overflow your eyes when you look into his. Just seeing his determined light blue eyes peering back at you makes you unravel even more. He has no remorse for how weak he’s making you, how vulnerable you’ve become, his unmistakable dominion turns you on.

He listens to your wails, finally granting you the satisfaction you’ve been begging for and plows into your g-spot. Your grip on him gets tighter as he thrusts harder, you’re almost certain he’s going to leave some swelling deep inside your cunt. “Your dick is so, fucking, good,” you breathe in between thrusts.

Michael doesn’t give up, keeping up the same pace and fucking you exactly how you want him to. You’re about to praise his long cock some more when you’re thrown into climax. You try looking back up at him, but you can’t say a word; your mouth hangs wide open with nothing but small chokes croaking out. He can see how dazed he’s made you and shoves your face into the ground, pushing your nose against the leather of your jacket. “You’re going to take daddy’s cock like a good little girl,” he seethes, suffocating your head into your jacket. “Don’t come,” he demands.

He continues punching your g-spot with his huge cock, you feel your pussy spasming under his rough thrusts. He holds both of your arms back, shifting you into doggy-style. His balls slap against your sore clit and you feel yourself starting to ejaculate. “Fuck!” you scream into the breeze of the empty beach. Your cunt twitches and gushes its balmy juices all over Michael’s hard cock.

He slows down his pace and pulls your arms up towards him, you feel his heaving chest against your back. “What did I just fucking say?” he fumes, tugging your arms even closer to him. “Answer me.”

“You told me not to come,” you answer in a syrupy, naïve voice.

He grabs both of your tits to push you flush against him, maintaining his rough thrusts into your cunt. “That’s right,” he whispers in your ear, “baby didn’t fucking listen.” He smacks your tits with both of his hands, striking you hard. You jump at how ruthless he hits you, it makes your stomach flutter again. His full lips lug along your neck. “Remember who you belong to,” he speaks into your neck, sending an iciness throughout your entire body.

Michael digs his teeth into your skin, sucking up your flesh while he continues massaging your breasts, pinching at the hard peaks your nipples have formed. He sucks so hard it stings, you wonder how that would feel on your pussy. His love bite begins to hurt and you shift your head away from him, he snickers. “Who do you belong to?” he whispers, lips chafing the shell of your ear.

He pinches your nipples even harder and you sob in pleasure. “Mmm, you,” you respond, looking over your shoulder to give his lips a frail kiss. “I belong to you, daddy.”

He takes in a deep breath as if shaking off your spell and regaining his confidence. He pushes you onto the ground again and goes back to fucking you like a ragdoll. “You better remember that,” he breathes, mercilessly pummeling himself into you again.

He holds both of your arms back once more, driving himself into you so hard that you’re concerned about cervix bruising. His pace slows down a bit and you look back at him, his mouth drapes open and he stares down at the back of your head. He pushes you away as he orgasms, savagely shoving your face back into the ground, as you feel his warm seed spilling inside your wet cunt. Michael groans from deep within his chest, letting out a long sigh when he’s done. “Oh, fuck,” he moans, “fuck, you sexy bitch.”

You let out a little giggle at this and he joins. He hauls himself out of you and you feel all of your muscles relax. You shift onto your back, looking up at Michael in disbelief. You’re too caught up in euphoria to comprehend what just happened. All you can think of in this moment is how fucking good he was. Even Michael has a dumbfounded look on his face.

He shakes his head and liberates a nervous laugh, “We’re so fucked up.”

You can say that again.

#going to hell for this one :) #michael langdon #ahs apocalypse #michael langdon x reader #american horror story #sojourn michael #ahs #michael langdon one shot #ahs imagine #fire and reign michael #outpost michael #apocalypse #smut #xavier plympton #michael langdon x fem reader #michael langdon smut #ahs fanfic #michael langdon imagine #imagine #cody fern

[yanderepuck]

Nicoleta and the Residents

@ikerevandotherthings​ demanded her interactions with all the residents, so I WILL BRING IT

I’m gonna start out with a funny one

She has one interaction with Jean and is like

She’s not dealing with his moping and suicidal bullshit

She heard Napoleons story about him coming back and being a demi-vampire, and she’s like “wtf are you confused about, one of your parents was a vampire, how is that hard to understand?” and Napoleons life flashes before his eyes.  Other than that she doesn’t interact with Napoleon, until she see’s him and Jean sword fighting together, then she wants to take on the two of them at once to see how good they are.

Nicoleta and Mozart basically have a sass battle, they just talk shit to each other until someone else gets in the middle to stop them before it becomes physical.

Leonardo is a tricky one with her.  She already knew him but since then he’s really changed.  She knows what he means when he says that being a vampire is a curse, because you’re immortal but everything else around you dies.  But she’s also like “wtf you mean you love humans??? They’re fucking horrible.” however, she’s all for him spiting his parents everyday.

She’s gonna throw Arthur off the roof if he doesn’t stop being an absolute slut.  She’s the first female pureblood he’s met and is probably very attracted to her.  Meanwhile she’s trying to make the next month hurry the fuck up.  For the most part she’s able to ignore him, until he touches her in anyway and she grabs his hand and whips him across the room.  Somehow he still didn’t get the hint and just simply found her more attractive with how strong she is.

She’s got nothing bad to say about Vincent.  He just looks at her and smiles and will ask her about herself.  She’s very confused by the amount of kindness this boi has.

She has a hard time reading Theo which makes her interested in him.  He’s very protective over his brother...who can clearly take care of himself.   Theo has probably tried to get her to eat cake or something and she’s just like “No.  I can’t eat food you idiot”

Isaac also intrigues her.  Mainly because he’s spending his semi-immortality studying, doing experiments , and continuing his research.  The constant blood lust also gets her thinking.  She can’t stand the taste of rouge, and wonders if fresh blood would be more filling for him.  She probably tries to talk him into trying it.  Having him bite someone isn’t going to turn them, so there is no harm in it.

The only time she has seen Dazai is when he’s outside or scaling the damn walls of the mansion.  He in general confuses her.  “Why are you a vampire if you killed yourself? “Ahh...the question we all wants an answer to” “....what the fuck does that mean” she can’t stand that he only talks in riddles.

She didn’t meet Will until half way through her stay.  He heard about her from the others before they ran into each other and he didn’t know what to think of her.  Nicoleta looked at him for a few moments and just knew he did a lot of shady shit.  She’s heard a bit about Will but seeing him confirmed a lot of things she thought.  She basically went “I like you” and walked away

Its easy to say that Sebastian is a little uneasy around her, but does his best not to show it.  She assured him she won’t bite him as long as he doesn’t get in her way.  Which he actively stays away from her.

Comte is worried about her being there.  He can’t predict what she’s going to do next and he has no control over her.  After the first day he realized he can’t tell her what to do.  She can’t stand how much he likes humans and how he basically tries to live life like a human.  Wouldn’t doubt that in the first few days he pissed her off so much by saying something that she punched a hole in the wall.

She somehow ends up at the castle.  She probably sensed Vlad and went to him bc she was curious about other vampires in the area.  Vlad quickly realized that his mind control doesn’t work on her and that she’s way stronger than she looks.  But Vlad being Vlad, he still wanted to test her, and ended up getting thrown through a wall.

Oddly enough, she likes Charles she’s like “Oh!  I remember you when you were alive.” and he’s just like “please don’t bring that up”.  He’s way too easy to manipulate and for the short amount of that she’s there, she probably tries to get him to go against Vlad.

Now with Faust, she can’t get a solid reading on him either.  She watches him in his lab to see what he is working on, whatever it is, it’s more interesting than Isaac’s research.  But once she found out that he’s trying to figure out how to possibly kill a pureblood she burns most of his notes and grabs him by the collar of his shirt and tell him that if he ever tries to kill a vampire that she will find him and kill him in the slowest most painful way that she can.

#ikevamp #ikemen vampire #ikevamp oc #kat oc #kats oc #nicoleta #vampire oc

[prettyinlimegreenboots]

The Perfect Morning

You have been asking for it loud and clearly so I decided to write the Sprace baby you’ve all been waiting for. This is part of the “Life in the ER'' Series but a rare moment that doesn’t take place in the hospital. There are curse words and mentions of a hospital/working in a hospital. As always, feedback would be wonderful and would make me very happy. And if you have anything you’d like to see happen in the series, just let me know - I’m always looking for new situations to put our favorite characters into!

April 17, 2021

The house was quiet when he woke. It hadn’t been that quiet in almost six months and his first thoughts were holy shit. The second was questioning the time. He rolled over and looked at the green numbers of the clock - 7:34.

Running a hand over his face, he sighed before letting the hand flop to the other side of the bed. Empty. Cold. Sitting up, he blinked a couple of times, allowing his eyes to scan the room.

“Spottie?” He called, pushing himself off the bed and heading towards the room across the hall.

Pushing open the door, he was surprised to see it was empty. The dark wooden crib they had spent hours debating about sat across from the door, a light blanket thrown over the side. A mint green onesie was haphazardly thrown near the hamper and a stuffed elephant was nearby but otherwise nothing was out of place.

Continuing on his journey, he headed towards the living room thinking his husband and young child could be there but he came up empty once more. The dog was even missing which caused him to pause in his hunt.

At that moment, he fell in love with his husband a bit more. Here it was a rare morning that Spot didn’t have an early morning shift at the hospital; yet he had gotten up, taken care of their child and puppy so he could sleep in a bit.

Their lives were flipped upside down with the adoption of their daughter. It had been a period of adjustment for all of them, especially for their puppy, Sassie. From the moment they brought their little girl home, life had completely changed for the good. The two of them had always been a great team; however, they didn’t know how good of a team they would be until the doctor handed them Mackenzie Jayne Higgins-Conlon and wished them congratulations.

Pouring himself a cup of coffee, Race grinned putting in creamer before heading out to their front porch. He shouldn’t be surprised Spot would do this - it’s just him and his little ways of showing love. Taking a seat, he took a sip of his coffee as he waited for the rest of his family to return from whatever adventure they had gone on.

Relaxing into the chair, he sighed, listening to the birds chirp in the trees as he held the warm mug in his hands. Just as he went to kick his feet up, Sassie came bounding up the stairs, with her leash dragging behind her. Putting his mug on the table, he bent over and rubbed his hands up and down her sides, wishing her a good morning.

“Where’s dad, Sass?” He asked, looking down the street for him. What he saw caught him off guard.

Spot was pushing the jogging stroller that Jack and Kat had gotten them as a shower gift, shirtless, hair pushed back by a headband and sunglasses over his eyes. Race took a moment to publically ogle his husband, appreciating the physique that Spot effortlessly maintained. Race was careful not to let his jaw drop at how utterly gorgeous his husband was. There were very few times he could unabashedly stare at his husband and he was going to take full advantage of it.

Unclipping Sassie’s leash, he opened the front door for her to go inside before he bounded down the stairs to where Kenzie and Spot were. Race couldn’t help but catcall and whistle as he came closer to the two. “Hey good lookin.”

Grinning, Spot looked up from where he was unclipping Mack. “Hey yourself.”

“Have I mentioned how utterly gorgeous you are lately?” Race saunted closer to his husband and daughter with a shit eating grin on his face.

Spot adjusted Mack in his arms before throwing his head back and laughing. “Right now I’m a sweaty mess but thanks for the compliment. I wanted to give you a chance to sleep in since you’ve been taking night duty.”

“Sweaty mess or not, you’re hot. Own that. And thanks, I appreciate it.” Race leaned over and kissed him. “Did little miss enjoy the run?”

Spot kissed him back before handing Mack over to him. He leaned down to grab something out of the bottom of the stroller before giving Race a bright smile. “She was fussy when we first started but seemed to settle down as I got into a rhythm. I did about a 45 minutes run. We ran through town, picked up breakfast before heading back.”

“You’re my hero.” Race said, walking back up the stairs to the front porch. “Do you want a cup of coffee or water?”

Spot waved him off. “I’m going to take a quick shower. Do you need anything before I do that?”

“Nah, we'll just hang out here. If she wants, send Sassie out here.” Race pressed a kiss to Kenzie’s forehead. “Come back out when you’re done.”

Spot dropped kisses to both Race and Mack’s foreheads before slipping into the house, only to open the door again to let Sassie out.

Settling Mack with her back against his chest, Race relaxed in the chair, listening to Mack babble to herself. “Did you have fun with daddy this morning, Kenzie?”

She tried to adjust herself to see Race. He picked her up so she was standing on his legs as she continued her babble. Race continued his conversation with her as she tried to put her fingers in his mouth. He playfully ate them as she dissolved into baby giggles. They continued that game until she caught sight of her puppy.

Soon she was leaning forward to try to pet Sassie. Putting her on the porch floor, she babbled to and crawled over Sassie as the dog watched her young sister protectively.

He heard the door open and close just as he took the last sip of his coffee. He smiled gratefully at Spot as he spied the cups of coffee in his hands. Spot handing him one with a smirk. “Thanks. Feeling better?”

“Much less grimly and sweaty.” Spot took a seat, watching Sassie and Kenzie with a proud smile. “What’s the plan for the day?”

Race shrugged. “As far as I know, there are no plans. Jack and Kat mentioned getting together but nothing was ever put into place.”

“If they don’t reach out, I’m all in favor of a lazy day. We haven’t had one of those in a while so that’s my vote.” Spot said, stretching his legs out in front of him as he reached out and laced his fingers with Race’s.

Race nodded, squeezing their hands. “If I haven’t mentioned it lately, I’m proud of the life we’ve built. Perfect husband, perfect daughter and dog. Jobs we both love and great friends and family.”

“Sap.” Spot was quick to tease him but squeezed his hand. “I love our life too. Love you Racer.”

“Love you too Spottie.” Race leaned over and kissed him. “What did you bring for breakfast?”

Spot chuckled, shaking his head. “It’s always food with you.”

“Not always.” Raising his eyebrows up and down suggestively, Race smirked. “But I’m hungry for food right now.”

Spot pushed himself off the chair before sauntering into the house and returning with the white bag from earlier. “I got a couple of different things - didn’t know what you would be in the mood for.”

“Thanks snookums.” Race opened the bag, pulling out a cinnamon twist donut before taking a bit. “When do you work next?”

“Monday, Tuesday, Thursday, Saturday this week.” Spot drug through the bag taking out a donut. “Plums is working Tuesday, Thursday, Saturday with me so it’ll be a good couple of shifts.”

“Kenzie in daycare Wednesday and Friday?” Race inquired trying to keep the schedule fight.

Spot nodded. “Yea. You’ve got what seven weeks left of the school year?”

“I think. Days are starting to blend together.” Race sighed. “I’m just ready for summer.”

“We’ll have to figure out what we’re going to do. I have a couple of weeks of vacation that need to be used up before September.” Spot gave him a look. “Maybe we can head to the mountains or a beach. She’ll love the water.”

Race nodded. “Maybe Kat, Jack, Al, and Finchie would want to do something, at least for a few days.”

“That’ll be fun. We know how much Kenz loves Addie.” Spot grinned, thinking about the trouble the two would eventually get up to, as the two were only 4 months apart.

Race groaned. “No talking about the two of them growing up. They’re 5 and 9 months old and that’s all my poor heart can take.”

“Calm down papa bear. She’s still our little girl and Addie is still our little niece.” Spot squeezed his hand. “But I do love your idea of making it a family affair. Maybe momma and Smalls would want in.”

Race relaxed in his chair, thinking about all the adventures they would have ahead of them. With Spot and Kenzie by his side, he was content and happy. A thought popped into his head as a sly grin crossed his lips. “So, uh, Spottie . . . wanna tell me how you’re such a ripped dad?”

Spot threw his head back laughing before reaching over and shoving Race’s shoulder. “I could but you wouldn’t be able to keep up with me.”

“Is that a challenge?” Race raised an eyebrow in a warning.

Spot snorted loudly. “Race you complain when you have to walk to the mailbox to get the mail - no way you’re running 45 minutes with me.”

“I can kick your ass boxing.” Race gave him a look as Spot sighed. “Want me to reserve the ring for next weekend?”

Picking up Kenzie, Spot gave him a look. “Sure and we can see who’s king of the ring. You’ll always reign supreme running circles around me but I might be able to take you in the ring.”

“Keep up with the trash talk . . . we’ll see who’s still standing and who will get the bragging rights.” Spot gave him a knowing look.

Race held out his hand as Spot interlocked his hand with Race’s with a grin. “You’re on.”

He watched Spot tickle their daughter’s belly as a shrill laugh escaped her mouth. She pushed at his hands as he looked down on her fondly. “Hey Spottie?”

“Yea Race?” Spot looked up from their daughter with a smile on his face.

“If I haven’t said it, you’re a really good dad. I love watching you two interact.” Race said as a fond smile crossed his face.

Spot leaned over and kissed Race. “You’re a really good papa with her. We make a pretty good team, huh?”

Race nodded, reaching over and tickling Kenzie’s stomach as the girl looked at her dads with a gummy smile. In Race’s book, there was no better place he’d rather be than on their front porch with his husband and daughter.

So what did you think? Feedback would be wonderful. If there's something specific you want to see in this verse, feel free to send me a message.

#Sprace #Spot Conlon #Racetrack Higgins #Baby Sprace #Life in the ER Newsies Series

[kessielrg]

[Kingdom Hearts] Occupational Hazard

Summary: By far, Ven’s got the most boring job at the flower shop; the cashier. Sitting day in and day out for someone to browse along the rows of flowers and gardening tools, then probably walk right out again. Sometimes an interesting thing would happen- but they were few and far between. [flower shop AU focused on UX kids][Part 6 in a series of oneshots][VenxOC][EphemerxOC/F!Player]

Rating: K

Word Count: 2,541

If you liked this story, please reblog!

---

Ven thought about having children exactly once before. It had been a really random thought too. What made him space out that day? Had he been preparing for a test, or was it just another slow day at the flower shop? He hated that he had daydreamed about it enough that he knew exactly what kind of kid he wanted. (A girl, by the way- with the rest depending on if he could convince his ideal lady of being with him.) Either way, seeing Ephemer’s 19 month old son brought about feelings of wanting to be a father one day, while also making him glad that he wasn’t.

Furthermore, he wasn’t used to Ephemer being dressed to the nines either. The teen couldn’t help but stare at his coworker as Ephemer handed off various baby supplies to Skuld. It was a weird juxtaposition seeing Ephemer in a well pressed suit, and passing a wrinkled and well worn duffle bag to Skuld.

“There should be more than enough diapers to cover any accidents he’ll have in the next few hours.” Ephemer told Skuld. “Anora insisted we keep him from eating the foods that make him super gassy, just in case. She’s a smart one, that Anora. There’s a reason why she’s my wife.”

“Don’t have to convince me.” Skuld snorted. “Don’t know why you’re so dressed up for a night to the movies. We all know you two are going to be making out in the back of the car by the end of the night.”

Ephemer’s face immediately went up in a deep scarlet. He let out a sheepish laugh as he scratched the back of his neck. Skuld just laughed at him.

“Luca will be safe with me,” she then told him. “We’ve got a supply truck coming around in another hour or so, Thursdays are usually kinda dead anyway, and Ven’ll be here manning the main front. The next four hours will go by quickly.”

“I knew he’d be safe.” Ephemer laughed, albeit somewhat forced. “It’s how often you’ll be actually looking after him. You’re the one babysitting, and you’re still at work.”

Skuld gave Ephemer a rather dry laugh of her own before telling him, “I can do both.”

At Ephemer’s skeptic raise of his eyebrow, Skuld went on to say, “I will. After the truck gets here, my attention will be on nothing else.”

“Right…” Ephemer mused. He gave a shake of his head before getting down to Luca’s height. His son had been politely standing next to him while the old friends talked. Luca seemed to have understanding of what was going on- Ven just couldn’t get over those large blue-grey eyes. They just… stared between Ephemer and Skuld with severe inquisition. It almost made Luca look a good three or so years older. So young and yet so serious looking…

(Oh no, now Ven wanted to ask Brain if there were any surviving photos of Sabrina as a baby. She would hate knowing that he saw them, but he had to know. Did she always look that serious at a young age too?)

Ephemer gave his son a bright smile- one that was almost returned.

“You be good for Auntie Skuld and Venny, alright Luca?”

The toddler looked at his father for a long time, the wheels turning in his younger mind to register what was said, before giving a little nod. Ephemer grinned as he ruffled his son’s hair. He grunted slightly as he got back up (which Skuld was quick to snicker at) before starting his way out the door.

“See you two in five hours.” Ephemer waved at them.

“You told me earlier it was going to be four.” Skuld refuted, putting a hand on her hip. Ephemer just shrugged.

“You know I have a hard time keeping my hands off my wife, Skuld. And without a kid around? We’re practically kids again ourselves.”

Skuld let out a small ‘tsk’ sound and smirk. “Yeah, yeah. Get outta here. Go conceive your next child away from the flower shop for once.”

Even with his face flushing again, Ephemer gave her a playful salute before closing the door behind him. Skuld just looked at the door for a moment or so just to shake her head at him.

“Come up, Luca.” she then told the toddler, bending down a bit and extending her arms to him. “We gotta look out for the delivery guy.”

Luca gave her a glare so mean, Ven had to cough to cover up his laugh. The toddler even went into a string of sounds that could have been interpreted as sass. But he went over to Skuld, regardless. He allowed himself to be picked up by the woman, and together they disappeared into the back room. With the boss out of earshot, Ven felt free to let out the snicker he had been holding in for the past three minutes. The last thing on his mind was how Skuld would inevitably take her work at the flower shop over watching Luca. He’d figure it out soon- he just wished that peace had lasted a bit longer.

. . .

A good hour or so later, and Ven decided to make himself useful by making sure everything had a price sticker on it. No ceramic pot could go unturned without a sticker declaring its probably high ball price. Better than just sitting at the register and drifting off into who knows where until Skuld caught him.

Ven happened to notice Luca out of the corner of his eye. The toddler casually walked (or as casually as you could at 19 months, since you didn’t quite have the best balance still) out of the backroom and into the main store front. Ven slowed his movements a bit to watch Luca look over the area, then go over to a certain large vase with some faux reeds in it. It was rather amusing watching Luca plonk his little bottom down in front of it.  Ven gave a quiet snort before properly returning to his work. He almost had to stop because something new happened.

Luca started babbling at the flowers.

At least, Ven thought it still counted as babbling. Every now and again he could pick out sounds that certainly sounded like real words; like ‘same’, and ‘daddy’, and ‘kiss-shun’, and ‘mommy.’ Or maybe Ven was imagining it. Putting price tags on everything was ridiculously boring.

“Ven!” Skuld suddenly shouted from the backroom, scaring both Ven and Luca alike. “Do you see Luca?”

“Yeah.” he lazily replied. “He’s out here talking to some reeds.”

Skuld immediately left the backroom just to glare at Ven. He flinched a little at her gaze.

“Get him away from those!” she demanded. “I’m still going over what’s come in.”

Ven blinked at her, then looked over at Luca. The kid was literally doing nothing but staring at the other flowers now. He probably even had an acute awareness he was being talked about, but not being talked to. Ven turned his attention back to Skuld with a face that was trying to feign innocence.

“Why? They're edible.”

“Not when you're still able to choke on fine cut food!” his boss immediately retorted. All it did was spark a moment of defiance.

“Skuld, there are full grown adults that still choke on normal cut food. Your point is getting more moot by the moment.”

“I can't believe you and Sabrina aren't dating yet.” Skuld mumbled under her breath. “You share the same amount of… Urg. Just get Luca away from those flowers!”

Perhaps a bit too amused at his superior's frustration, Ven let out a short chortle before setting the price stickers down. Skuld only grimaced as she went to the backroom again. Still grinning, Ven walked over to Luca, finding himself bemused by the kid still, and asked without meaning any harm; “Whatcha doing there, Luca?”

The toddler immediately jumped, then looked up at Ven with wide, curious eyes. Slowly, as if he were aware he could be in trouble, Luca's little face started to break. Poor Ven was in no way prepared for the kid's wailing. He immediately flinched and covered his ears at the sound.

“You're not in trouble! You're not in trouble!” Ven quickly said, awkwardly making his way down to the floor to be at Luca's eye level. “Just gotta be careful, alright?”

But this didn't stop Luca from crying. If it was any consideration, Ven was sure the toddler didn't even hear him. Cursing under his breath, Ven looked around the flower shop for anything that could distract Luca. There were some plush toys in a display close by. Maybe one of those would work? Ven wasn’t going to leave it up to guessing. He quickly went to the display, quickly located and snatched a dolphin plush, then went back over to Luca.

“Here there buddy,” he said, bringing the plush close to Luca’s eye range. “Do you wanna cuddle buddy?”

Luca stopped crying just long enough to give the plush a glance, shove it of his eyesight, and let out a rather clear, very angry, “No!”

Ven let out a long (and very tired) sigh of defeat. Wasn't Skuld the one that was supposed to be babysitting this tiny person? Why did it feel like he was doing all the work?

But first, he had to shut Luca up.

What else could Ven distract Luca with? Better question- what did Luca even like? Was there anything in this store that could calm this kid long enough so he wasn’t the loudest sound on the block? All this crying had to be stressful for him. Heck, it was stressful for Ven! An even better question right about now was ‘where on earth is Skuld?!’ because that was rather important too. Could she really not hear Luca wailing from the backroom? Maybe he should check on her…

Luca’s crying hit a note so high pitched the Ven flinched. He turned his attention back to the kid in defeat. Unsure of what else to do, he tried to rack his brain on what Ephemer and Anora did to calm Luca down. But that was just the thing, wasn’t it? Usually Luca wasn’t whining. Ven did get an idea though. Carefully, Ven put his hand on Luca’s head, trying to mimic the way Ephemer ruffled his son’s hair. To his surprise, it actually seemed to work. Luca started to settle down little by little until he gave nothing more than a few sniffles.

“There you go, buddy.” Ven cooed, sounding like he was more addressing an angry bear than a child. “Feel better now?”

Luca rubbed his eyes before turning to Ven. It was slow to make sure Ven didn’t stop gently kneading his fingers into Luca’s hair. The toddler gave Ven a few tired blinks. Apparently crying for five minutes straight was particularly draining.

“Tell me.” Luca said to Ven, pointing to an arrangement to his left. Ven blinked. He didn’t hallucinate that sentence, right?

“Tell you what? About the flowers?”

Luca gave him a determined nod.

“But I don’t know-” Ven tried to tell him, but Luca was a smart kid. He purposely started to make his face break again, and even started a little whimper before Ven caught on. “Wait, wait, wait!” Ven quickly stammered, removing his hand from Luca’s head to throw them up in defense. “I might know some stuff. And look, I could probably look some things up on my phone too. Wouldn’t that be cool?”

Still milking his leverage over Ven , Luca wiped his eyes as he gave another nod. Ven let out a relieved sigh. It should be that hard to fake what he knew about plants, right? As Luca gave a long yawn, Ven hoped that he could probably even be able to lull the kid into sleep. Honestly, he was practically doing Skuld’s job for her.

. . .

Ephemer and Anora returned to the flower shop thirty minutes earlier than expected. They seemed to be in good spirits, so the date must have gone on well enough. Skuld was quick to hand Luca and his baby paraphernalia back to his parents.

“He didn’t give you any trouble, did he?” Ephemer asked, taking the duffle bag as Anora got their son.

“Not at all.” Skuld affirmed. “I was a bit preoccupied with the shipment that came in, so Ven helped out a bit.”

Hearing this, Ephemer and Anora looked at Skuld like she had proposed murder. Ephemer was the one who let out a forced laugh before saying,  “Skuld…? Your shift ended before I dropped Luca off, that’s why we left him with you.”

“Knew it.” Ven mumbled under his breath. The parents looked at him before returning their attention to the rather unapologetic Skuld.

“I still watched him.” she insisted. “And now I still have some work to do before heading home for the night. Ven’s shift is ending for the night, and we all know he won’t do the inventory count tonight.”

“Because at this time of night, we do it in the morning.” Ephemer told her. Skuld didn’t seem to pick up on his annoyance. Instead, she went to the backroom before anyone could stop her.

Ephemer let out a long sigh of exhaustion. He should have known better, honestly. He looked at Anora and grinned. It was meant as a signal for them to head out, but Anora had other plans. She carefully nudged Ephemer, giving him a small look that he could read well. Ephemer nodded before digging into his wallet to find a twenty dollar bill.

“Here Ven, take this,” he offered. Ven just looked back at him with the most bewildered look. Ephemer saw it and just laughed. “We all know how Skuld gets when she doesn’t leave work. I’ll come in on my next shift with another twenty for you.”

“But I don’t-” Ven tried to argue, but it was Anora who stepped up to place a gentle hand on Ventus’s elbow. The teen froze right then and there. It was honestly the more polite thing to do- Anora didn’t really have much of a grip on him.

“Thank you for watching Luca tonight.” she carefully told him- for a moment it made him wonder if she thought she was to blame for some reason. “If Ephemer doesn’t pay you back, I will. And that’s a promise.”

“O-oh no, ma’am.” Ven quickly stuttered out. “It’s fine! Honest! It wasn’t even a big deal. Nah. Not really. Luca’s a pretty cool kid when you sit down and play with him. Pretty smart too. Nothing to sweat about. Hardly interrupted anything. Really.”

Anora offered a polite smile, although Ven felt guilty under it all the same.

“See you later, Ven!” Ephemer waved as the family left the shop. Ven waved back, still feeling guilty from Anora’s generosity. Luca watched Ven from other his mother’s shoulder- the expression was particularly hard to decipher. Ven just hoped it was one of respect. That little brat better not forget what Ven did for him today.

“Definitely having a girl.” Ven mumbled under his breath before clocking out for the day.

#kingdom hearts #ventus #kh ventus #kingdom hearts fanfiction #skuld #kh skuld #kh fanfiction #fanfiction #fanfic #fan fiction #kh fan fic #fan fic #flower shop au #flowershop au #kh fan kid #kingdom hearts fan kid #fan kid #writers on tumblr #kh ephemer #ephemer #ephemerxoc #ephemerxplayer

[vintervittrannerd]

True as Sarcasm

By @vintervittrannerd for @whotheheckitheheck

Rating: General

Relationships: Peter Parker & Tony Stark 

Characters: Peter Parker, Tony Stark, James “Rhodey” Rhodes

Summary: The first time he said it, it was pure sass. But over time, the word started to feel more and more true, until Peter realizes that’s what Tony has become to him. A dad. 

This is for @friendly-neighborhood-exchange, you can read it on Ao3 here :)

The first time he said it, it was pure sass.

He had been back as Spider-man for a few weeks, after the month-long grounding he had gotten after May found out about him swinging around Queens stopping crime after school.

The grounding had been a compromise. May had been absolutely furious with everyone when she first found out (Peter still winced at the memory of her shouting at Tony for what seemed like hours) and had forbidden Peter from going out as Spider-man ever again. Peter had been certain that that had been the end. Once May made up her mind, she very rarely changed it, and she had been angry enough that not even Peter’s otherwise quite successful puppy eyes had worked. But to his astonishment, Tony had, after letting May finishing her shouting, somehow convinced her to let Peter continue his vigilantism. 

  There had to be rules of course. Peter wasn’t entirely happy with all of them, but May and Tony had been in agreement and there was no way Peter could change their minds once they had teamed up against him. The rules included strict curfews for patrolling (10pm on school nights and midnight on weekends), school and homework had to come first, he had to make time for his friends and family, and his sleeping schedule had to still be appropriate for a teenager (though Peter suspected he had quite different views on appropriate bedtimes for a 15 year old than the adults had). He also had to get some actual training, which resulted in an agreement that he should spend every other weekend at the Avengers compound and train with any of the remaining Avengers (which meant either Tony or Rhodey, or occasionally Vision if he was there). He also had to continue his patrol reports, but now directly to Tony, and was under no circumstances allowed to tone down or hide an injury of any kind. Not that he could hide it anyway, because Karen kept a log and reported directly to FRIDAY, and if she deemed any injury severe it would alert Tony the minute it happened. Peter was not very happy about this particular rule, but found it best not to try and hack Karen again. At least not so soon. He figured he would give it a few months at least, and then he and Ned could see if they couldn’t change Karen’s coding without Friday (or Tony) noticing.

And then there was the grounding. Peter had hoped that the, in his opinion, absurd number of rules would be enough of a punishment, but May did not agree.  

“The rules are just to let you be Spider-man at all. The grounding is for lying to my face for months.”

Peter couldn’t really argue with that, and besides he did feel bad for lying to her, so he accepted his punishment with minimal complaint.

And when he was finally allowed back out as Spider-man, things had been so different from how they’d been before the Vulture incident that Peter didn’t quite know how he should behave. Mr. Stark had taken a much bigger part in his life, way beyond what he actually had to according to his deal with May. Not only did he listen to all of Peter’s patrol reports, but he seemed to take a genuine interest in Peter's life, chatting with him about school and friends and Legos. He’d also started to invite Peter to the compound more often, not just for his training sessions, but to work in the lab with him and one time just for a movie night (Tony had claimed that he just needed a third person so a majority could vote against Rhodey's movie suggestions, but after a few minutes of mock betrayal when Peter sided with Rhodey, he had just decided that voting was a bad idea anyway and they should just take turns choosing what to watch on movie nights). And Peter found that he grew more and more comfortable around Mr. Stark, his nervousness and insecurity slipping away and being replaced by a familiarity that he hadn’t expected but definitely welcomed.

Which was how, a few weeks after he’d been allowed out as Spider-man again, Peter found himself in the compound kitchen after a training session with Rhodey while Tony cut up bread rolls and fussed over Peter like a mother hen.

“Have you eaten yet? It’s important to eat after you’ve trained, especially with your metabolism. We don’t want you passing out on us now, do we? Also, water,” Tony tosses a water bottle at Peter and then continues to rummage around in the fridge, pulling out a package of roast beef “you need plenty of water after working out, so drink up.”

Peter can’t help himself, the situation of THE Tony Stark preparing a sandwich for him and pestering him about drinking water is so surreal that the sass just slips out.  

“Yes dad.”

Rhodey snorts behind him and Tony turns to glare at the both of them.

“Very funny. But I have a deal with your scary Aunt and she will have my head if I break it. And I happen to be rather fond of my head.”

“Your deal includes making sandwiches?”

“My deal includes keeping you alive” Tony says with a stern look at Peter, who has a very hard time keeping himself from laughing. “Now shut up and eat your food.”

Peter rolls his eyes but doesn’t protest. He is starving after all.

***

It becomes a thing after that.

In fairness, Peter only sarcastically calls him dad when Tony is really helicopter parenting. In other words, all the time.

And really, who can blame Peter? Tony is, after all, the worst case of helicopter parent that Peter’s ever seen. Seriously, Peter has had four parents during his fifteen years on this planet and none of them has been quite as overprotective as his mentor is.

Peter doesn’t really mind it though. It’s kinda nice to have someone else that looks out for him, besides May. It’s mostly just a fun thing to mock Tony with, especially since he insists that he’s not a helicopter parent and is just being a “responsible adult” (at that, Rhodey had laughed so hard that he nearly fell of the chair he was sitting on and Tony had thrown a half-made sandwich at him).

He doesn’t know when or how it happened. But somewhere during the months of lab days and movie nights and texting each other stupid jokes, the “dad” had stopped being sarcastic and started being…something more. Peter wasn’t really sure what it was, only that Tony fricking Stark, Iron-man, genius, billionaire, philanthropist and arguably the best Avenger, had stopped feeling like just a mentor and started to feel something that was much closer to a real dad. It terrified Peter, but at the same time it made him feel safe and calm. Like he had someone he could lean on. Someone who would never leave him to face the world alone.

And that was precisely the reason he was terrified. Because Peter knew all too well that father figures did leave, even if it was unwillingly. His first father, Richard Parker, had left, died in a plane crash when Peter was four and he still missed him terribly sometimes. His other father, Uncle Ben, had also left, bleeding to death in an alley while Peter held him. And the grief he had for Ben was something he couldn’t even put words on, because it was mixed with guilt. Guilt, because he was the reason Ben had been in that alley in the first place. Guilt, because even with his powers, Peter couldn’t save his life. And guilt, because even though Ben had been his father in every sense of the word and he had loved him so much, Peter had never told him. He’d never called Ben Dad, or told him that he saw him as a father. In his mind, Peter knew Ben must have known anyway, just as Peter knew Ben had seen him as a son even if he never said so. But in his heart, there’s still a stab of guilt. He should’ve told Ben. He should’ve told him how much he meant to Peter.

Peter Parker knows that father figures leave, unexpectedly and painfully, and he knows the guilt that can follow. He knows he can’t always prevent the leaving, but he can prevent the guilt of never telling. And so, he starts to make a plan.

***

Peter has never been this nervous in his entire life. He almost asks Happy to turn the car around and take him back to the apartment at least twelve times on his way to the compound, and when the elevator doors open up to reveal the corridor that leads to the lab, he almost asks FRIDAY to take him back up again.

But he doesn’t. He steps out of the elevator with the small gift bag clutched in one hand and takes a deep breath. He reminds himself that he’s a superhero and that he’s supposed to be brave and that really, this shouldn’t even be something to be afraid of in the first place. Really, it’s just a small present. It’s just Tony. It just happens to be Father’s Day.

Tony looks up from his workbench when Peter enters the lab and blinks several times at him. He looks disheveled and tired and Peter suspects that he has spent at least the past 24 hours in the lab.

“Peter? Is something wrong? Wait, shit, did I miss that this was a compound weekend?”

He looks stressed and guilty enough that Peter rushes to reassure him.

“Oh, no, everything’s fine! Just… Rhodey said you weren’t busy today” (actually Rhodey’s exact words had been “It’ll do him good to be dragged out of his lab for a while, he could use the break”) “and so I asked Happy to drive me here cause… uhm, I just… I wanted to… I-I mean I just thought…” Why can’t he form a full sentence? His brain refuses to be of any help at all, so Peter gives up on trying and just holds out the gift bag to Tony “Here.”

Tony accepts the bag with an odd look on his face. “What’s this?” When Peter just blushes and doesn’t answer, Tony carefully pulls the gift out of the bag.

It’s a mug, the kind of mug that you could get in any gift shop, red with the words “World’s Greatest Dad” written on it. Only Peter had made it a bit more personal and had drawn a small golden Ironman helmet to the side and added the word Iron, so the mug now says “World’s Greatest IronDad”. Tony’s eyes go wide when he sees it. He stares at it, blinks slowly and continues staring as if he can’t quite believe it’s real.

Peter wonders if it is too much. If it is too little. If Tony will just assume it is a joke gift. If, maybe, it would be better if he thinks it’s a joke gift.

Tony is still staring at the mug.

Peter thinks maybe he hates it. Maybe he’ll look at Peter and tell him to take his mug and all its implications and get out of his lab. Maybe he’ll distance himself from Peter again. Maybe…

Tony sniffs and turns away, blinking furiously and swiping a hand at his eyes.

Now it’s Peter’s turn to stare.

“Mr. Stark…are you…are you crying?”

“No” Tony sniffs again, and his voice sounds suspiciously shaky. “It’s just that the air in here is very dry and it makes my eyes water. It’s a perfectly normal thing.”

“The air humidity is at a very normal level,” FRIDAY comments. “It should not affect your eyes in any way, boss.”

Tony glares at the ceiling and mutters something that sounds like “snitch”. Peter can’t stop himself from snorting and Tony turns his glare at him instead. However, the glare quickly melts into a look so soft and full of love that not even Peter's overanxious brain can doubt it. And finally, he dares to say the words he came here to say, the simple yet terrifying words he’d turned over and over in his head, wondering if he had any right to say them. The look in Tony's eyes wipes away all of Peter’s worries. So, he says it, and he means every single word.

“Happy Father’s Day, dad.”

#vintervittran writes #friendly neighbourhood exchange #i have no idea what this is to be honest #its just 2k words of fluff #like so much fluff #(and a tiny bit of angst just cause i couldn't help myself) #but really its mostly fluff #tony acting as peters father figure #peter calls tony dad #and its sarcastic #until its not #fathers days gifts #tony is a helicopter parent #irondad #fanfiction #peter parker #tony stark