#but i was too focused on other things to continue

[uzurakis]

brainrotting so hard rn thinking of megumi who absolutely refuses to admit his feelings for his best friend but okay so hear me out shikigamis are often reflections of their owner, right?

his shikigami – his demon dogs, nue, escape rabbit etc etc are ALL attached to reader, constantly begging for their attention and being so protective towards reader whenever he brings them out. and reader can't help but feel loved and safe whenever they're around.

because the affection his shikigami has for you is a reflection of megumi's feelings for you <3

n. THIS IS SOOO GOOD and i just HAD to make a drabble out of it. i also feel megs will sometimes be jealous but.. hey.. isn’t that just an extension of HIMSELF? thank you nonnie cause i had fun brainrotting this wit chu <3

under the dappled shade of a tree, you and your bestfriend sat nestled amidst nature's embrace. the gentle rustle of leaves provided a soothing soundtrack to the lazy hour after school as the cool breeze swayed in between. you leaned against the sturdy trunk, the rough bark a comforting support against your back, whilst fushiguro reclined nearby, never not a book on hand, his presence a familiar comfort in the tranquil surroundings. he looked too focused, way too focused right now.

“fushiguro,” you called out whilst biting back a smile, holding up your index finger in a playful gesture. “one favor.”

“no.” came his immediate response, closing off any opportunities as he remain engrossed in his book.

it was a usual thing for you to do, pester him for fun with many favors. you knew that despite his protests, he would always give in to your whims. it was one of the things you adore about him actually, the lengths he’d go to make you feel better.

undeterred, you continued, pouting slightly. "but fushiguroo..."

“no.” he repeated firmly. “your one favor usually turns into a two favor, and a three—“

“i promise it’s only a favor this time!”

a wind brushed his black locks as he peered up from his book, letting out a slight forced sigh as he finally locked his eyes with yours. “just one favor.” he conceded, unable to resist your asks.

the smile of yours finally burst out, and the favor rolled off of your tongue. it was simple this time; you didn't have to use your pleading looks or other tricks to get him agreeing.

“can you summon some of your shikigamis? just wanna play with them.”

fushiguro's expression softened, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips despite his initial resistance. he closed his book gently and set it aside, his attention fully on you now.

"alright," he relented, his tone warmer now. "i can do that, only for a short while."

you nodded eagerly, grateful for his concession. fushiguro had a way of understanding your needs even when you were being particularly bothersome. so you wasted no time in joining in the play, laughing and running around with his divine dogs. fushiguro watched with a fondness in his eyes, silently grateful for moments like these.

well, he too had other ideas. he certainly seems to have a knack for stirring up trouble and was definitely intentional. while you were distracted by the dogs swarming about you, he summoned an army of his rabbits—a large number of them—and they all jumped at you at once.

“do you want me to get killed from your rabbits?!” the shout was muffled as his rabbits covered quite every inch of your body. “did you tell them to come at me?!”

no, your bestfriend never ask his shikigamis to come at you the moment he summoned them. fushiguro megumi's shikigamis, his loyal companions, had a mind of their own. he never trained the dogs to nozzle around you, the rabbits to bounce over you, or nue to sit on your shoulder. for that they didn't heed the conventional rules of summoning or obedience; instead, they acted on their instincts, driven by an unspoken directive to protect and be close at all times—fushiguro megumi’s instincts to protect you and be close at all times.

“dunno,” picking up where he left off and submerging back to his pages. “maybe.”

“you’re such a prick!” the words burst forth as you try to get the rabbits off of you.

he watched you from a distance, his heart swelling with affection as you kept playing around with his shikigamis. but he still tried to held back his own smile, a silent observer in the background, content to bask in the warmth of your presence.

yet, as if on cue, a smile tugged at the corners of his lips, he could not hide it any longer.

@uzurakis — requests are open! <3

#SOBBING… #i love him too much :( #i’d throw one of his rabbits at him ngl (not sorry) #.writing #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #megumi fluff #jjk #jjk fushiguro #jjk megumi #megumi fushiguro x reader #fushiguro megumi #fushiguro x reader #megumi fushiguro #megumi x reader #jujutsu kaisen fushiguro #megumi x you #fushiguro megumi x reader #megumi x y/n #fushiguro x y/n #fushiguro x you

[erodasfishtacos]

Somethin’ Unholy (sexclubowner!hxengaged!yn)

prompt: YN and Arthur have to adjust their arrangement. The first scene leaves YN hopeless and wondering if she should even come back to the club.

word count: 9.7k+

warnings: emotional infidelity (kinda, it’s complicated), d/s dynamics, mean Harry

author’s note: next part is posted on patreon & continuing to be updated this week💕 this is the last part that will be posted on tumblr.

to get access to the rest of this trope as well as 350+ other exclusive writings - you can join for $3USD! -> HERE <-

PART ONEk

+•+•+•+•+•+•+•+•+•

YN isn’t above this.

Actually, this is exactly where she wants to be.

Her arms are akin to jello as she slowly starts to move across the floor, the hardwood was rough on her knees, and she had to complain.

YN sits back on her heels, eyes sparkling and challenging, she was going to make Harry prove himself as a good dominant.

Harry raises an eyebrow, questioning but unmoving from where he stands.

“Hurts my knees, sir,” YN tells him, the ‘sir’ was patronizing and not obedient in the way it was intended to be used when he demanded it from her.

“The funny thing is…” Harry tilts his head, eyes tracing over every inch of her, “I didn’t fucking ask if it hurt. Crawl to me now.”

YN huffs, putting her palms flat again and moving towards him.

“Slower. Move slower. I really want you to feel that ache you were bitching about in your knees,” Harry tells her, his voice was so calm and monotone that it was making her want to get him mad.

YN does as he says but to the extreme, going so entirely slow that she’s barely moving any bit forward.

Her face is towards the floor and suddenly, there is a pair of leather boots in her line of vision, standing in front of her.

A hand weaves into her hair, twirling the strands between slender fingers, and pulling upwards without mercy.

YN lets out a high-pitched squeak at the pain prickling on her scalp, forcing her neck to tilt upwards to look at Harry who’s now squatting in front of her.

“Is that too rough?” Arthur echos from behind her.

YN shouldn’t feel annoyance, this is a learning experience for both of them but she wants him to just sit there quietly.

The way Harry looks up towards Arthur was downright terrifying.

A sharp, mean smile spreads wide enough on Harry’s face that his dimples pop in both of his cheeks, and then he tugs her hair until her head is turned a an uncomfortable angle, looking towards her fiancé.

“S’it too rough for the lil’ angel?” Harry asks in a mocking tone, his grip hasn’t relented and YN had missed this type of pain so much she could cry.

“N-no, it’s good,” YN manages to get out between clenched teeth before focusing her eyes back on Harry.

She didn’t want to remember that Arthur was here.

“It’s good, sir,” Harry lets his blunt fingernails tease at her scalp, “You’re being so awful already. It’s making it hard for me to want to play with you.”

If YN wasn’t in a headspace like this, she could logically identify that he was saying this to get under her skin, making her insecure.

But because her rational thinking isn’t as present as it normally is, it makes her chest ache, and her voice sounds small when she says, “I’ll be good, sir.”

Harry’s laugh is loud enough that she jumps, his hand loosens and unweaves from her hair as she blinks up at him.

He was ethereal under the dim light, all of his sharp features were defined, like they were from renaissance times, and he’d be unreal but YN was witnessing him with her own eyes.

“Did that spark a nerve, pet?” He teases as he stands up, leaving her on hands and knees.

YN only folds her lips inward, refusing to give him an answer because she wanted to get the biggest reaction possibly out of him.

When he realizes that she’s not going to reply, he runs his tongue over his teeth, “Right now, I wish you were really my sub. This would end so fuckin’ poorly for such a defiant slut.”

“Whoa, I don’t know if you should call her that,” Arthur interrupts with an affronted tone, like he’s trying to stand up for YN.

YN feels the irritation of his interrupting itching at the back of her teeth, she wanted him to just sit there and stop.

YN doesn’t realize that she lets out a spoiled noise of impatience, of annoyance at her fiancé.

It causes Harry to take a step forward, lightly pressing the bottom sole of his shoe on her splayed fingers, warning.

“This is a learning experience,” Harry scolds her, pressing down just enough to add pressure on her knuckles, “ He’s allowed to ask questions and voice limits. If you have an issue with that, there is no purpose to this session. Understood?”

“Yes sir,” YN replies quietly because she did not want this session to end.

It had only just begun and she felt such a spark that had never been there before.

This was visceral, different than any experience that she had had with Klein before they broke up.

The atmosphere, the way that Harry held himself with such knowledge and confidence was unmatched.

“Good girl,” Harry murmurs lowly, almost as if he didn’t want Arthur to hear, and he moves his boot away from her fingers.

The praise felt fucking addictive.

She wanted more of it.

But at the same time, she wanted to create mayhem too.

“Is that a limit for you? Yellow?” Harry asks Arthur, checking in like a responsible dom would do during a lesson.

YN hated that it took his attention away from her.

“Er, not necessarily. I’m…this is all just new. I didn’t know whether she liked being called that or not is all,” Arthur trails off unsurely but he doesn’t sound like he’s distressed, he definitely is a mixture of curiosity and arousal.

He liked this.

“Arthur,” Harry replies in a conversational tone, he nudges his foot against YN to signal her to stand up, “You will learn that it doesn’t matter what YN likes because she likes to be disobedient and insubordinate. It only matters if she uses her colors. If she doesn’t like something enough to stop, she will either use ‘yellow’ or ‘red’.”

YN stands, feeling awkward in how overdressed she is as Harry provides education to her fiance, this was such a weird situation, and she wanted Arthur to stop bringing her out of her floaty headspace.

“Right, slut?” Harry smirks wickedly, he stands with his hands behind his back, and pointedly not trying to touch her in any way.

She could tell that in this weird dynamic, Harry was trying to be respectful that he was instructing and not taking ownership of her as her dominant, despite her body screaming at him that that is exactly what she wants from him.

“Yes,” YN agrees, purposely leaving out the ‘sir’.

The smile drops from his face, he had thought he’d broken her, and it wasn’t that easy by just some hair-pulling and name-calling, it would take so much more, and he would learn her threshold for pain tolerances is high.

Harry’s lips press into a firm line and he steps forward, grip firm on her wrist as he jerks her forward, making her stumble into his chest, and he whispers into her ear, “God, if you were mine you would be broken.”

It was only loud enough for YN to hear.

But he takes a step back, letting go of her wrist, and an odd emotion she can’t read crosses his face before he announces to them both, “This is an instructional session as I’ve stated before. That was an example of power play but now I will move onto the next portion of learning.”

And something has switched, YN doesn’t know how to put her finger on it but Harry had suddenly become more formal with her.

More of a teacher, less of a dominant like how he was acting in the beginning.

She wanted the latter to come back out, a hollowness started in her chest when he walked away from her to sit down on a tufted leather bench, and a completely uninterested expression on his face.

“Strip down to your bra and underwear,” Harry replies in almost a robotic tone, none of the teasing and lift was there anymore.

YN is shaky as she rids herself off her trousers, the structured corset bodysuit she had put on, and she was down to her strapless bra and seamless thong.

YN wasn’t self-conscious, she loved her body and was proud to show it off but there was something about Harry’s demeanor that made an inkling of self-doubt creep in as she stood in the middle of the room where he had left him.

When she subconsciously goes to wrap her arm around her chest, as if to give herself any type of modesty, Harry clicks his tongue at her and shakes her head.

Without having to speak, YN puts her arm back down at her side and takes a deep breath, shaky on the exhale.

“Ask to come lay on my lap,” Harry tells her calmly, his legs spread enough to be obscene, a hand resting suggestively on his inner thigh, much too close to his groin to be appropriate in any other setting.

“May I come sit on your lap, sir,” YN repeats as steadily as possible, she wanted to be good, and she wanted to earn his interest back.

Harry is surprised by her compliance, definitely not expecting her to follow his instructions without a fight.

“Come here, now,” His voice is tighter, lip between his teeth as he watches her carefully.

“Ho-how, sir?” YN swallows because she doesn’t want to get scolded again.

“How do you walk? That's a silly question, are you a dumb pup?” Harry asks as if she just asked the most outlandish question ever, “Walk with your two feet unless that’s too much brainpower for you, pet.”

“YN,” Arthur speaks from behind her, still sitting but YN’s back is turned to him.

She knows she should look, this is a lesson for them, to learn how to do this, to model the play, to communicate better.

She knows they’re here as a couple and Harry is simply an instructor.

But she doesn't want to turn to look at him.

YN keeps her eyes on Harry, in an almost pleading to have him help, to speak to Arthur for her because her fiance kept dragging her out of the fuzzy headspace she was desperately trying to sink into.

Harry doesn’t let anything show if he’s annoyed by Arthur.

He probably isn’t because this is a lesson for him, he isn’t really playing.

YN was and that was the issue.

“Yea-yeah?” YN manages to reply after blinking a few times, almost like snapping out of a trance, and she turns to make eye contact with her partner.

Arthur was visibly flushed, his hand was strategically placed over his lap to hide what YN is guessing is evidence that this situation is turning him on, even though he doesn’t need to hide that because that’s mostly the point of all this.

“Is…Um, color? I just didn’t know you liked being talked to that way or…ordered around like that…” Arthur still doesn’t sound upset or necessarily bothered by the revelation, just maybe a bit surprised.

“Green. I like it,” YN nods because she wants to snap at him, tell him that she’s been trying to communicate that she likes this for ages and he hasn’t caught on whatsoever, but she doesn’t want to ruin the scene so she simplifies it down to that.

“Ask him his color,” Harry reminds her from behind, “You need to check in with him too.”

I don’t want to check-in with him.

“What’s your color?” YN tries to keep interests in her tone but these interactions with Arthur are taking any semblance of an actual scene out of her mind which she knows that wasn’t the goal but she had made it her own at some point when this started.

“Green. You look amazing right now and I -,” Arthur smiles so sweetly at her, genuine and honest.

It makes her feel guilty.

YN was pretty sure in this moment that Arthur would never have the ability to be mean to her in the way she needs, in the way that Harry can provide, and that leaves her with a sinking feeling.

“Get your ass over here now,” Harry cuts Arthur off mid-sentence, irritation finally settling in on his features.

YN walks as gracefully as she can over to him, standing between his spread legs, and he reaches out to run his fingertips over the curve of her hip.

It’s surprisingly gentle until he pinches her, enough to sting, and says, “Kneel.”

YN obliges, her knees were already going to be bruised from the hardfloor beneath her but by this point, she was welcoming the aches that were going to last for days after, to remind her of Harry.

“Let’s keep simple today, shall we?” Harry asks her as he runs his open palm across her collarbone, getting closer to her chest.

Right now, she’s blatantly aware that they haven’t done anything inherently sexual which she be lying if she said that it’s not clawing at the pits of arousal in her stomach.

YN doesn’t know if she’s ever been as attracted to someone sexually as she was with Harry.

She knew these instructional sessions weren’t for his pleasure but fuck, she wishes that she got to see him in action - real, in scene action, not this only sliver of what he actually has to offer.

YN nods in response to him, trying to be on her best behavior because her disobedience really hadn’t made him more prone to play with her further than teaching.

“Open,” Harry commands as he withdraws his fingers, thumb now moving to tug on her bottom lip sharply as she complies. As soon as it was, he pressed down on her tongue, with enough pressure that she had to swallow harshly not to gag.

Harry laughs as he watches her, never taking his eyes off of her, “You can’t even handle my thumb but you want to have the attitude of a girl who can take me all the way down their throat.”

YN can’t speak, can’t tell him that she can and she can show him.

Instead, her brattiness that she’d been trying to tamper down flares right back up as she sinks her teeth into the skin of his hand in a clear way to convey she didn’t like what he had just said.

It takes Harry by surprise, his features twitching just the slightest before he’s steadying them again, and pushes down further on her tongue until she actually does gag. Before he’s pulling his spit-soaked thumb out and dragging it across her cheek, surely smearing the meticulously applied foundation and bronzer.

There’s a conflict, YN can tell Harry is debating on what his next course of action is and he seems to be arguing with himself internally before he’s gripping her jaw and making their eyes meet.

“Cut the brat shit. I’m not your dom, this is a lesson. Stop getting so far into it. Save it for your fiance,” Harry’s voice is cold, mean but not in a teasing way, almost a dismissive way and it doesn’t feel like they’re playing anymore.

It seems like he’s actually scolding her even though she sure he probably just thinks he’s giving her a reminder so that there’s no hard feelings between her and Arthur after this but it felt like a knife in her chest.

YN feels any of the feistiness leave her body, it would probably be a responsible time to use her colors, and let him know that she’s bordering on ‘yellow’ because she realizes she’s misinterpreting this whole scene.

He was never going to get into the full headspace with her.

Of course, he wasn’t.

This was fully for teaching.

And YN was trying to fall into her subspace that she would with her actual dom.

But the text messages, in particular, made her confused.

Why would he have goaded her over text like that?

“Let’s get this over with,” Harry presses his tongue to his cheek, looking frustrated as he signals for YN to stand right back up.

“Alright, I’m going to demonstrate how to properly spank. We’ll do five, alright?” Harry tells her as he reaches for her wrist, tugging her until he can position her over his lap, face-down.

But you said fifteen in the text.

Harry is now talking to Arthur directly as he lands the smacks, informing him on the proper amount of pressure, placement, repetition, and timing that all make a difference to how the scene goes.

YN can’t even focus on the words, her fingertips gripping at the leather bench in front of her, and the hits weren’t hard, they barely stung but she felt disappointment at this whole experience sink into her bones.

After the five, Harry pulls her into a sitting position next to him before standing up.

“No comment then? Want to be a brat the whole time but when you actually get a spanking, you’re dead silent?” Harry questions, hands on his hips, and he just overall seemed…unhappy.

“I wouldn’t call that a spanking,” YN scoffs in annoyance but it no longer had any playfulness in it, “Is this scene done? I’m ready to go.”

Arthur is oblivious to the intense tension between the two, standing up and straightening out his trousers, wiping the legs off, and smiling widely, “That was pretty awesome. I liked it more than I thought.”

YN embarrassingly enough feels like crying.

“Arthur,” Harry’s eyes haven’t left YN’s, “Can you leave YN and I for a second? To discuss before you head out.”

“Absolutely, I’ll be at the bar,” Arthur agrees easily, trusting as he excuses himself from the room with a kiss to YN’s cheek.

YN moves to pick up her clothes, bunching them in her arms, and refusing to acknowledge Harry’s existence as she lays them out of the bench to try to organize them in order to put them back on.

“Look at me.”

YN refuses, shaking her head, and clutching her shirt in her fist.

She felt embarrassed, let down, disappointed.

YN doesn’t hear Harry move but jumps when his hand snakes around her waist, physically turning her around to face him, and god, why the fuck are there tears streaming down her face right now?

“Why are you crying?” Harry asks bluntly, his hand leaves her hip and that makes the tears fall harder.

She’s crying over a fucking stranger who sent her a few flirty messages.

“It doesn’t matter,” YN tries to keep her gaze on her feet but the finger under her chin doesn’t allow it.

“It does matter,” Harry argues, exasperation through each word.

“I…It just wasn’t what I expected,” YN replies honestly because Harry can see straight through her lies anyways, “I’m just disappointed but that’s on me for my expectations, it’s not your nor Arthur’s fault.”

“What were your expectations?” Harry seems hesitant to ask like they both know that the honest answer isn’t appropriate for YN being in a relationship, engaged to be married type of commitment.

YN squeezes her eyes shut, the words are stuck in her throat until his hand comes back to her hip, very cautiously rubbing a circle on her hip, “I…I know you made it very clear that this was instructional. It’s not your fault for my expectations. I just….wanted….I just wanted a scene with you. A real scene.”

“You should want that with your fiance,” Harry sighs as watches her, voice low, “You should want to do a scene with him, not me.”

“I get that you don’t want that with me, that’s okay-”

“I didn’t fucking say that, did I?” Harry cuts her off, a defensiveness that she hadn’t heard before in his tone, his thumb pressing in a bit harder to her hip, pressing against the bone and purposefully.

“It seemed like there were a few moments in the scene where you were into it but then…you went back to…” YN trails off because she doesn’t know the best way to put it into words.

“I went back to teaching because I shouldn’t have let myself get like that in the first place,” Harry bites out, his lip twitching as it furls downward, “It was unprofessional. This was strictly educational.”

“Do you often get lost for a moment in the scene when you’re doing instruction?” YN asks timidly, unsure of whether she wants to know the answer and if she’s trying to make this more special than it was to him.

“Never has happened before,” Harry tells her, his gaze unfaltering, “I’ve never struggled not to fall into an instructional scene before tonight.”

“This isn’t in my head,” YN swallows, feeling a bit braver in what she believes, “There is…a compatibility between the two of this. In this setting.”

“Be that as it may, it doesn’t matter,” Harry’s words are tight, strained, “You are in a relationship, working on these issues between the two of you. So that Arthur can provide you with what you want.”

“Tell me honestly, sir,” YN lets the name roll off her tongue thickly, smiling to herself when his hand squeezes at her again, pressing and pressing into her skin, “Do you think that Arthur will be able to tame me? You can’t even do it.”

Finally, that familiar wicked smile spread over his tense features, his eyes twinkling under the dim light.

Because just like her, he loves a challenge.

“I could break you, over and over,” Harry steps further into her space, she was suddenly very aware of how undressed she was in comparison to him, “Make you into the sweetest little sub that I would never get sick of using.”

“That-that doesn’t answer my question,” YN’s breath was picking up, he could tell, and he moves to cup the side of her neck, thumb laying over her pulse point.

“The question of whether Arthur will be able to learn how to handle you? In the way you need?” Harry clarifies as his eyes dart down to watch the way his fingertips dimple the skin underneath them.

YN nods.

“You and I both know the answer to that,” Harry scoffs with a shake of his head, the smiling fading a bit, “No, I do not think your fiance will be able to give you what you need. He doesn’t seem like the type to suddenly be able to dom.”

YN wants to kiss him, drop her kneels in front of him, beg him for anything he’s willing to give her.

And yet, she’s engaged.

The ring had never felt good on her finger but right now, it felt like a fucking trapped life sentence.

Harry moves to take a step back which has YN reaching out to grip her wrist, “Please.”

He lets her hold him but sighs, “We probably shouldn’t do another lesson together. I don’t think that I can do another scene with you acting like such a fuckin’….a brat and try to keep it as a learning experience. I can set you two up with another instructor-”

“Why didn’t you set us up with a different instructor in the first place?” YN throws the question at him, “Raven said you didn’t play here anymore or teach. But you-”

“You know why,” Harry cuts her off, not willing to lay it out any clearer for her, “You know why and I can admit it was a bad idea. I should have thought it through and I shouldn’t have offered myself.”

“It’s because you want me,” YN lets a smile creep onto her face, arrogance filtering throug her veins and she takes his hand, bringing it to her hip once again, “You wanted to play with me. You wanted a chance-”

“And I shouldn’t have given into it,” Harry won’t let her finish a sentence, “I know from your paperwork that you aren’t in an open relationship. You need to go the fuck out there to your fiance and forget about this.”

YN doesn’t like that answer.

Of course she doesn’t.

But he’s absolutely right.

What she was doing was borderline cheating, by just engaging in their conversations that she wouldn’t have had if Arthur was in the room with them.

YN had never once thought about cheating on Arthur or any of her partner’s in the past.

She judged people who cheated on their signficant others.

And now all she can think about is how much she wants Harry.

She was royally fucked and she knows it.

“Fine,” YN bites back, her guard completely up and she turns her back to him.

She can sense his hesitation before he’s cursing under his breathe and slamming the door on his way out.

++

They don’t talk about the lesson.

Not on the way home, not before bed, not the next day.

Arthur doesn’t try to initiate any type of power play when they have sex that night when they get home from playing.

YN doesn’t see a world where they’re going to go back to The Body Factory because the lack of interest from Arthur about domming was blatantly obvious in his actions following their arrival home.

YN notices Arthur being much more distant after that night, just for the following few days as he was much more quiet, reserved than he normally was, and overall seemed lost in his thoughts.

She starts to worry that this all was just such a poor idea, for both of them.

“What is going on?” YN finally asks one night while they sit at the dinner table, across from each other in silence leading up to this, “You’ve barely spoken to me all week. If it’s about what happened on Saturday night, just say it.”

Arthur puts down his fork and knife, wiping his mouth with his napkine before sighing, “I’m sorry, sweetie pie. There’s just been…a lot on my mind and a lot to process after this weekend.”

“You could have just talked to me about it. I thought we were supposed to have positive communication about all of this while we figured it out,” YN lets her fork clatter loudly, showing her irritation but to be fair, she was much more on edge later than normal.

“You’re right,” Arthur agrees, his expression is soft and apologetic like it always was, never wanting to argue, “I…I needed to figure some things out for myself and kind of…process. I worry that I’m going to upset you with what I want to talk about and I guess I was just trying to find the right time.”

YN braces herself for what she knows is coming, they’re not going back to that club, she’ll never see Harry again.

“Just say it, Arthur,” YN sighs, rubbing a hand over her eyes and she knows her shoulders have slumped slightly.

There’s a pause.

“I dont think I can be what you need, in terms of dominant,” Arthur’s voice is cautious, “But I discovered that I, uh, I liked watching you with Harry. Like….I really enjoyed it and have been thinking about it a lot.”

YN’s eyebrows raise to the ceiling.

That was not how she expected this conversation to go.

++

Harry asks YN and Arthur to come into the club on a weekday night to discuss what they are asking from him.

They weren’t able to get a hold of them and the secretary was able to set up an appointment to talk about their membership.

YN and Arthur are sat in his office, dark with the green undertones accented throughout the room, matte and deep oak wood.

The door opens behind them, YN feels herself tense and Arthur must feel it too because he gives her a reassuring squeeze on the hand he’s holding of hers.

“If you’re here to cancel your membership, you’re still charge for the entirety of the year. You already signed a contractual agreement,” Harry’s voice is disinterested, dull as he rounds his desk and sits down in front of them.

“No, that’s not why we asked for a meeting,” Arthur is a bit flustered, eyes darting away like he can’t quite look directly at Harry.

“I’m not interested in doing instructional sessions. It wasn’t a good match and I offered you other educators we have here.”

YN feels like it’s purposeful that Harry hasn’t made eye contact with her once when he typical couldn’t take his gaze off of her.

Arthur’s hand is clammy on hers, making her want to pull away but she was in all honesty feeling the nerves of this meeting too.

She didn’t know how she would handle a rejection from Harry.

Even though she knew there was a much higher likelihood that he would reject the proposition than accept.

Raven had given Arthur a bit of information last weekend when YN and Harry were along in in play room still.

She had told Arthur that Harry hadn’t had a sub in the eight years that he hadn’t played at his own club.

Raven wouldn’t disclose what happened that made him stop partcipating and only faciliating, as it obvious didn’t take his interest out of this world or his ability to be a good dominate.

This was a shot in the dark.

”I am busy. Let’s speed this up,” Harry makes a point of glancing down at the very-expensive looking gold watch on his wrist as if he has a meeting with the queen after this.

”Of course, my apologizes,” Arthur instantly responds, submissive without even realizing it, something that makes YN’s skin crawl, “After the instructional session last week. My fiancée and I discussed our thoughts and where we wanted to go from there.”

Harry just blinks at him, heavily like he’s losing interest.

”And er, I definitely realized that I don’t have the capacity to be what YN needs in that aspect nor is it really my interest. However, seeing YN act like….”

”A spoiled brat?” Harry fills in, running his tongue over the front of his teeth.

He was so intimidating, just by the way he held himself, shoulders broad, head held high to show off the defineition of his jawline, and his faux calm demeanor like nothing in this world bothers him.

Artuhur chuckles, squeezing YN’s hand again, “I was going to say that she was acting so differently, free, and yes, bratty. It was unlike anything I’ve seen from her before and I do not want to be the one to dull that light for her. However, I still want to experience it with her…from more of a onlooker perspective like last week.”

Again, cue a twitch of guilt because Arthur was a good guy and he cared about YN very much but it didn’t stop her from the craving for something from Harry as it should.

”There are plenty of open doms here or doms that will have more than one sub at a time,” Harry’s teeth are gritted now, it was subtle but YN notices that way his fingers are gripping a pen in his hand.

”That’s not what YN is interested in,” Arthur’s has seemed to calm down a little bit, his voice more conversational, “We talked about it extensively and the reason we are here is because we would specifically like you to consider being YN’s dominant. It’s something we’ve both discussed and both feel comfortable with. If it is something that you would think about.”

Harry cannot hide the surprise, his eyebrow raises before he’s steeling his expression again, giving Arthur a bored blink, and he doesn’t respond right away.

YN just wants him to fucking look at her.

“You put clearly in your paperwork that you are not interested in other partners,” Harry settles on stating after leaning back in his chair, hand dragging through his curls.

”Well, I discovered uh…” Arthur starts to become flush.

”It’s fine, Art,” YN finally says, patting his knee, “Everyone has something there. This is literally the place for it. What you like isn’t unusual.”

“I like watching YN with someone else,” Arthur admits, looking down at his hands and trying not to become even more embarrassed, “And I feel comfortable with her being with you. I trust that you would take good care of her but also give her what I cannot.”

Harry narrows his eyes, “You realize what you saw this past weekend was nothing in comparison to what actual scenes look like, right? You’re agreeing that you're open to me doing whatever I please with her, break her, and it won’t be pretty much of the time. At least to the outside onlooker…”

”I know, I’ve done my research recently,” Arthur nods, he starts twisting his wrists between his other fingers as he always did in an anxious habit.

”I cannot give you an answer tonight. It’s something that I will have to think about,” Harry decides, sitting up straighter and tugging at his suit jacket to adjust it.

”Are you going to even acknowledge my existence tonight?” YN blurts out because she cannot take it anymore, he won’t even make eye contact with her, and she knows it's purposeful.

“Did the kitty need attention? Can’t go a minute without it, huh?” Harry chuckles as he slowly rolls his gaze over to her, eyes finally glancing up and down her body before meeting her stare once again.

YN bites her lip, refusing to give into his teasing if this isn’t going to have the end result she wants because the fire building in her belly is already back with a vengeance.

“I just think you’re being rude,” YN shrugs defiantly, crossing her leg over the other and bouncing it like she was impatient to leave, giving him a reminder that he does want to play with her - he’s said it himself.

That fucking smile spreads on his face.

The one when he’s challenged and he knows he’s going to win.

”I think you’re being a greedy slut but I wasn’t going to say anything,” Harry’s voice sounds curiously fond, enamored by her, and it makes her preen at the unspoken praise of his reaction.

YN scowls but when Arthur touches her bouncing leg, it drags her out of any floatiness that she was going to drift to, and it was probably for the best anyways in this moment.

“I’ll have an answer for you by tomorrow,” Harry tells them, standing up and motioning towards the door, and Arthur thanks him more than once before starting to trail out.

As Arthur starts to head down the hallway, a hand reaches out and wraps around her wrist, stopping her for a moment, and causing her to look back at the person who grabbed it.

Harry’s eyes are back to the intensed, lock-in almost predatory stare.

”Do you think this is a good idea?” Harry asks quietly, so even though her fiancé is oblivious, he doesn’t hear.

”I can’t think of a better one,” YN responds honestly, “If I’m being selfish, yes. This is a good idea.”

“And if you’re actually thinking about your fiancé?” Harry prompts, eyebrow raised and truly questioning her.

”He liked watching,” YN acts like she doesn’t know what the underlying question that he’s asking is, “I think this is a good idea for both of us. We’re adults who are consenting and both talked this through at lengths.”

Harry nods, lip tucked under his teeth, worrying it until it’s puffy.

YN feels a pit of despair at his reaction, it didn’t seem positive, and it doesn’t seem like this is something he will agree to which he has every right to do but the feelings must flash across YN’s face.

”Hey,” Harry’s voice is softer, his thumb comes up to tug at her bottom lip, “Everything will be fine, okay? I’ll reach out tomorrow.”

”Okay,” YN sighs, leaning into his touch more than she hold because it was definetly inappropriate, “Just…please think about it.”

Harry nods, letting her go, and starting to close the door.

YN can’t be one hundred percent certain but she’s nearly confident that she heard Harry mutter something under his breath as he closed the door that sure sounded a lot like…

”Don’t think I’ll ever be able to say no to you. M’fucked.”

++

YN checks her phone all day during work.

Nothing from Harry.

It makes her even more anxious when she gets a text from Arthur saying that Harry reached out to him and would like to meet privately that night.

YN patiently waits for her confirmation of whether he’s on board or not but the text doesn’t come in until after Arthur’s stopped at the club after work and they talked.

YN realizes that it was all very intentional when at right near midnight sends a simple text.

Harry [11:59PM]: After talking to your fiancé, I’ve decided that I will agree to be your dominant. However, that is contingent on how our meeting goes.

Harry [12:00 AM]: When your shift is done tonight, meet me at the club. We will need to have a meeting to establish further boundaries, limits, and expectations.

Harry [12:01 AM]: Understood?

YN is tired and insanely happy which makes her feel rather pliant and sweet.

YN [12:03 AM]: Yes sir.

Harry [12:08 AM]: Good girl for me already? Get some rest, kitty. I will see you tomorrow.

YN sleeps like a fucking baby.

++

The club is surprisingly busy for a Thursday night.

YN’s shift was in the evening and when she walked into the club, there were people playing in the free play area - very much already into their scenes.

YN knew she didn’t look her absolute best.

She had changed out of her scrubs, into a flowy dress that had been easy to throw on, and purposefully forgoing a bra.

YN had taken her hair out of her claw clip, smudged on some tinted lip balm, and swiped on a coat of mascara hurriedly in the hospital locker room before making her way here.

It had been all she could think about all day and now that she’s in the darken, moody atmosphere it was feeling very real.

YN doesn’t see Harry monitoring the free play from his usual spot, in fact, he’s not in the main room at all.

YN decides to go over to the bar, always in the mood for a Shirley temple, reminding her of her childhood a bit.

Raven was there, as always, looking radiant and unbothered as she greets her happily, “Hey! It’s so great to see you again. I wasn’t sure if I was after last week's session. I swear Harry had been in an awful mood after that and it only got better once you and Arthur came in for a meeting.”

That was…interesting.

“Did he say anything?” YN can’t help but ask.

“Uh,” Raven’s eyes dart to the side, shifty and avoidant.

“No, no worries,” YN soothes easily, not meaning to put her on the spot, “It was an experience. It wasn’t what I -“

“Hello there, beautiful,” A deep voice interrupts their conversation, a hand brazenly sliding onto her bare shoulder.

It wasn’t Harry.

The man was attractive, above average but held no light to Harry.

He was muscular, in a way that wasn’t YN’s type.

His muscles were bulging, like they didn’t have enough room until his skin, and he was making it obvious that he was flexing his biceps.

“I just saw you walk in alone. God, I couldn’t take my eyes off of you. Your tits are -“ The man begins to compliment.

Raven snaps her fingers, making a motion across her lips to the man to be quiet.

However, someone clears their throat, and all three turn their heads to Harry who was now standing behind them with a displeased frown.

“Hands off of her,” Harry murmurs, his voice is level, non-aggressive but still incredibly domineering that it wasn’t a recommendation.

It was an order.

The man removes his hand like he’d been burned, stepping back, and instantly apologizing the owner, “I-I didn’t know-“

Harry ignores him, glancing at Raven, “From here on out, please inform the guests that my submissive is off-fucking limits. Clear?”

“Yes,” Raven agrees with wide eyes.

The possessiveness as he puts his hand on her lower back was quite possibly the hottest thing that YN had experienced in her life.

The man disappears back into the group but is clearly passing on the message, whispered surprise as Harry guides her towards his office.

YN can hear bits and pieces of hushed conversation.

“What do you mean that’s his submissive?”

“He’s never once done that before. When he used to play, nearly a decade ago, he always shared his submissive.” “He must be down bad for her.”

“I tried to get him for ages to play with me. She’s been here once.”

“Well yeah but look at her.”

That’s all she can gather before they’re out of earshot.

“You’re off limits. They won’t bother you again,” Harry assures her as he guides her into his office, motioning to a seat before walking to his desk.

YN nodded, her heart was pounding, and she had definitely lost a bit of bravery.

Harry opens a folder, YN notices her handwriting, and realizes it’s all of the questionnaires and paperwork.

“This paperwork is fine for casual play but we need to establish more before I feel comfortable getting started,” Harry tells her as his eyes trace over the information.

“Your hard limits…” Harry trails off as he skims, “We have a few similar ones. Neither of us are into body fluid play other than come. As well as we both do not like temperature play, well hot wax in particular.”

“Allergic reaction made my bum cheek swell up like I got stung by fifty bees,” YN smiles shyly, it was so nerve-wracking, she was intimidated and he wasn’t even trying at that moment.

Harry lets out a laugh, a genuine one, a sound she hasn’t heard before and it was beautiful like the rest of him.

“I also had an allergic reaction. I thought my cock was going to be permanently damaged,” Harry’s smile is softer, the dimple still appearing.

“I still have a scar on my ass,” YN giggles, he’d find it soon enough but now he knows why she has it.

“Any other limits not mentioned?”

“No, I mean I haven’t tried everything but those things are definite no-gos,” YN tells him, her nails digging into her thighs unconsciously almost.

“And we will find out other things you don’t like along the way. Hopefully, we find more things that you enjoy,” Harry's voice is gentle, like he can sense her nervousness and is trying to ease it.

“Things you know you like,” Harry prompts, looking back down towards her papers.

“I like to be a…brat as you know. I really love the dynamic of pushing and pushing until I give in. I love making my dom frustrated and annoyed. However, if the aftercare isn’t sweet and extremely gentle than it ruins the experience for me.”

The smile had naturally faded off if his face, eyes intent on her, “You want me to wear you down? Until you’re crying for me to be nice to you but even then I’ll give you more. After we wrap up, you want praise, compliments, and affection.”

YN nods in agreement, “Exactly.”

“Was this what your previous dom gave you?”

“Sorta? We were younger and he was still really learning. He wasn’t as mean as I wanted but he struggled with that part. He was definitely a softer dom than what I wanted. He could only handle so much of me being a brat, it was a fine line because he would start to actually get angry with me and it was hard for me to tell. I never fully felt like I was able to push as much as I wanted.”

“You will be able to push as far as you want with me. If you think you can go hard, I promise you I will give it back a hundred times worse,” Harry's words are threatening but she knows he’ll make good on it.

“We’ll see,” YN pokes the side of her cheek with her tongue in an act of indifference

Harry glances at her from under his eyelashes, gaze darting down to her chest for a moment before her lips then her eyes again.

YN knows her nipples are outlined against the thin fabric, ready to be played with, and teasing right in front him.

“As for Arthur,” Harry’s voice gets serious again, “I already laid out to him all of his rules and expectations. I do not share in scene.”

“I heard other members saying you did share your submissives,” YN isn’t arguing, just curious.

Harry pauses, lip twitching before blinking slowly and very distinctly says, “I will not share you in a scene. Is that an issue?”

“No, I don’t want that either. I just didn’t know what made me different,” YN responds, picking at her thumb on her lap.

“A lot of things make you different,” Harry replies cryptically, he doesn’t elaborate nor does YN ask because he continues speaking.

“He will not participate. He will not speak. And he will leave the room when I’m providing aftercare,” Harry tells her firmly, fingers drumming against the dark cherry oak.

“And he was okay with that?”

“He was hesitant at first but aftercare is very important to provide. I should be the one taking care of you afterwards, at least immediately afterwards, and I take it very seriously.”

“That all sounds fine.”

YN has to bite back saying ‘can you ask Arthur not to be in the room at all?’

“We will meet every Saturday night. At the start of hours. You will not socialize with others nor will you participate in free play. You will be fully dressed at all times in front of other members.”

YN tilts her head, leaning forward just the slightest so she knows there’s a gap in her top, flashing him his first sight of her breasts.

“Yes sir.”

Harry’s fingers roll tightly into a fist, exactly how she would hope he would have responded.

“I cannot wait to make you cry like the little disobident brat you are, fuckin’ starving for anything I’ll give you,” Harry tells her, voice dropping noticeably lower.

“I’ve been good all night. I’ve said sir,” YN makes sure to sound as innocent as possible, fluttering her eyelashes at him.

It’s crossing a boundary, surely.

Arthur isn’t here.

YN cannot find it in her to care.

“Then I guess our scenes will be mild, boring,” Harry shrugs, his cadence going slower, deeper into his accent, “Shame.”

He stands up, taking his time to round the desk, and reaches out his hand, “I will walk you out.”

YN raises her eyebrow, “In a minute. My legs are sore from running around all day.”

She gets the perfect response.

Frustration.

Harry’s jaw shifts under his skin, teeth together, and nostrils flaring, “Get the fuck up.”

“Jesus, someone has an attitude,” YN mutters under her breath but obviously loud enough that Harry would be able to hear her clear as day.

She pushes herself out of the seat and turns towards the door, the opposite side of where Harry is standing to bypass him.

As she walks towards the exit, a hand reaches from behind her, his chest suddenly flush against her back, and a hand cupping the sides of her neck.

He pulls her back into him with enough force that it knocks the wind out of her for a moment and she squeals in surprise, airway suddenly restricted slightly.

“You’re cute when you’re brave, kitty,” Harry whispers in her ear, teeth grazing her lone, and he bites her - enough to sting, “I’ll show you a fucking attitude. One you’ve never seen.”

His fingers tighten for a moment and YN doesn’t think before she’s pressing her bum back into the cradle of his hips.

He was thick, unsurprisingly big from what she could feel, and she was craving that inside her as soon as possible.

YN reaches for the hand on her throat and surprisingly, Harry lets her move if, down over her collarbones, down over her sternum, and guides him right to her chest.

Over the fabric, Harry finds her hard nipple with ease, and gives her the hardest tweak she’d ever experienced, gasping as she grinds backwards.

“Enough.”

Harry suddenly takes his hand, his body away, and is standing at a distance.

He shakes his head, “We can’t be doing things like this. You know that.”

YN bites her bottom lip, she knows why, and she knows Harry is just trying to respect her fiancé even when she can’t.

“Yeah,” YN agrees, trying to stop the tightness because she’s in over her head, how can she only have him once a week.

Why was she so fucking in to him when she barely knows him?

When she’s fucking engaged, with a date, a ring, and her father’s blessing to be wed.

YN crosses her arms over her chest, embarrassed because she almost feels like she’s being scolded for her actions.

As she should be.

His hand comes to her neck, cupping it gently this time as he sighs, shaking his head solemnly before their eyes meet, “This isn’t a good idea.”

YN’s heart rate spikes.

“You’re going to destroy me, aren’t you?”

And the way he says it isn’t teasing but isn’t accusatory either.

It’s like it’s a fact.

“I’ll try not to,” YN peeps up, swallowing harshly.

Harry laughs wistfully, thumbing over the center of her throat before stepping back, “S’a bit too late now, kitty.” ++

Friday cannot come quick enough.

YN is excited enough that the buzzing in her veins feels electric.

YN had sent Harry a picture earlier in the day of a hot pink lingerie set and then simpler black one next to it.

YN [11:03AM]: which one, sir? [photo attachment]

Harry [12:34PM]: It doesn’t matter. You’re stripping the minute you’re in the room.

Harry [1:01PM]: I am very rarely spontaneous. I have had this night planned since I first sat you in the club that first night.

YN [1:02PM]: when you were playing candy crush on your phone?

Harry [1:03PM]: I wasn’t playing candy crush. I was reviewing your file virtually to see if you were available for open play.

YN[1:04PM]: i thought you didn’t play in your club anymore

Harry[1:04PM]: I haven’t in nearly a decade.

YN’s hands were shaking, excitement, confusion, and curiosity.

YN[1:06PM]: what would you have done if i had been available?

Harry[1:13PM]: I would have fucked you so well that you wouldn’t have wanted to even look in your fiancé’s direction ever again. That you would have chased after me like a puppy after that instead of it being obvious how much I wanted you.

Harry[1:13PM]: I wanted you to only be able to think of me every time you slept with your fiancé.

Harry[1:14PM]: I’ve never been a possessive man but something in you has sparked it for me. I typically share without a problem. The one time I actually have to share, it’s going to be a struggle. I’m willing to try.

YN felt that Harry was actually being vulnerable with her for the first time and she didn’t know what all of this meant. There is warning signs that YN is blatantly ignoring because he just fed her everything she’d wanted to hear.

YN[1:23PM]: thank you for trying

Harry [1:39PM]: I will see you tonight, sweet girl.

Sweet girl.

It felt different than the sweetie pie that Arthur went with, a nickname that she never had liked but didn’t have the heart to tell him.

YN may have reread their texts a few times as she got ready for the night.

She was going to have to meet Arthur there as he was coming from a work dinner.

++

Arthur meets her outside the club, giving her a firm kiss which takes her by surprise, he murmurs, “I cannot wait to see you tonight in there.”

YN rubs his shoulder, stiff when he kisses at her neck, and grips her hip.

“We should probably go in,” YN whispers back, stepping out of his hold to motion towards the door.

“Okay, sweetie,” Arthur smiles brightly, oblivious to any tension that YN’s holding in her body as he keeps his hand on her waist and follows her in.

YN had forgotten to tell Arthur about the rule that Harry did not want her interacting with other members before a scene.

And Harry clearly hadn’t communicated that with him because when they walk through the free play room doors, he guides them towards a group.

Arthur had made friends with a few people and they wave at them when they walk in, encouraging them to come chat.

YN feels herself start to panic slightly, this wasn’t good, off the bat she wasn’t following instructions and she needed to speak up.

“Hey guys!” Arthur greets as he pulls her with him into the circle of people.

“No, Art. I can’t -“ YN starts to frantically whisper into his ear as his brows twist downward in confusion.

Suddenly, everyone in the group goes wide-eyed, and YN has a sinking feeling that she knows exactly why.

A hand wraps around her throat, similar to the other day, and applies practiced pressure on the sides where her blood flows as he yanks her backwards into his chest.

His lips to her ear and it’s not necessarily what he says but it’s the tone.

It’s the dominance, the aggression, and something about it seems borderline primal, rasp and deep as he speaks carefully.

“If you think this is going to work in your favor, you’re very fucking wrong,” Harry warns with another squeeze, firmer this time.

Everyone around them is quiet.

They’re almost in shock.

And YN knows it has nothing to do with her and everything to do with Harry being openly dominant when he hasn’t in nearly a decade.

Harry must look towards the crowd, “My stupid lil’ kitty seemed to forget her rules already. You are not to interact with her prior or during play hours. Afterwards, it is fine. However, she is off-limits in every fucking sense. Understood?”

“Yes.”

All in unison.

Harry doesn’t acknowledge Arthur’s existence.

The hand on her neck was possession, ownership, and making sure everyone knew that YN was his to play with only.

“Sir, I-“ YN begins to try to speak when he lets up slightly.

Harry leans back toward her ear, his voice noticeably softer and quiet enough no one else can hear, “Hush. No play in front of others, remember? S’just for us. Now let’s go.”

YN closes her mouth and nods, eyes downward to avoid making eye contact with anyone who was watching.

Harry releases his grip, hand coming to intertwine their fingers which seems like such a stark contrast from where he’d been applying pressure to her airways.

It’s a quiet trek down the hallway, YN keeps her head down even when Arthur exchanges pleasantries with Raven.

Once they’re in the room, YN feels like she’s quivering in a mixture of fear of the unknown and anticipated excitement.

Arthur goes to the chair in the far corner without prompting, silent as he should be.

YN doesn’t plan to look at him at all.

Imagining it’s just her and her dom.

Harry is hers.

Atleast on Fridays.

“Do you have any questions before we begin?” Harry rasps lowly, stepping in front of her and studying her face.

YN shakes her head.

“Speak the fuck up,” Harry’s voice is substantially louder, meaner, and his whole expression has changed into something darker, malicious.

“No,” YN shakes her head again, biting back with a little attitude.

The same smile, deviant and enthralled with her response spreads on his face, dimples carving into his cheeks.

“Then let’s start,” Harry rumbles as he steps back even further, sitting on the bench, “Strip. Everything off.” + 👀 please let me know your thoughts! They make my day

#harry styles writing #harry styles #harry styles masterlist #harry styles smut #harry styles angst #harry styles fluff #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfic #harry styles au #harry styles one shot

[bellaxgiornata]

As Luck Would Have It [1/2]

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader Word Count: 3.5k [Part Two]

Warnings/tags: Humor, fluff, and a charming, teasing Matty

Summary: Stressed out while working on a dead-end case at Nelson, Murdock, and Page, Matt isn't too thrilled when Foggy interrupts and asks him for a favor. Despite his annoyance at another task being added to his list of things to do, Matt is shocked when the potential client Foggy asks him to call turns out to be a wrong number. What's even more surprising is how much Matt enjoys chatting with the woman on the other end of the line.

a/n: This is going to be a short, two part piece. It's light and fluffy so I hope y'all enjoy it! Feedback/reblogs are always appreciated!

Matt Murdock One Shot Tag List: @pazii @shouldbestudying41 @kmc1989 @ebathory997 @yeonalie @shiorimakibawrites @xxdrixx @wkndwllf @leikelle @pinkratts @lazyxsquirrel @1988-fiend @marvelcinematiquniverse @carstairswife @stilldreaming666 @kiwwia-wiwwia @willwork4dilfs @will-delete-this-later-probably @mattmurdocks6thscaleapartment @theetherealbloom @yarrystyleeza @dramaholic18 @ladywholikesreading @sleepysleepymom @tartbeanpuzzles @harleycao @sunflower-tia @gamingfeline @juskonutoh @kezibear @ninacotte @withyoutilltheendoftheline @justanerd1

Matt’s fingers slid across his braille reader, his brows furrowed together in deep concentration as he focused on reading the digital document displayed on his laptop. This entire case had been draining him lately, only managing to aggravate him as he continually hit legal wall after legal wall trying to figure out how to help their client. What made things worse was that he knew what was really happening behind the scenes in this case that he, Foggy, and Karen had been working on, but he also knew that Matt Murdock wasn't supposed to know about any of that.  

With a vexed grunt he raised a hand from off his braille reader, running it through his hair in agitation as he blew out a frustrated breath. Tired of reading the same thing over and over with no new way forward, Matt pushed his chair back from the desk in annoyance. The desk lurched a few inches across the floor at the force as Matt grit his teeth together. 

He wished he could use the information he'd uncovered last night as Daredevil. That would have solved all of his problems and easily saved their client. But of course, none of that evidence was remotely admissible in court. So while he knew where the truth lay in this entire case, he was still currently helpless to use the law in his fight for justice. Though he was certainly determined to keep picking through detail after detail in search of something he could use to his client’s benefit.

The sound of footsteps approaching his office door caught Matt’s attention and his head shifted to the side. Matt pushed all thoughts of his frustrating case out of his mind as he focused on the noise. Barely a second later the sound of Foggy’s unmistakable heartbeat registered in his ears just before two knocks sounded against his door.

“What do you need, Fog?” Matt called out.

He heard the door handle twist, the door to his office opening as Foggy stepped inside. Matt didn’t have to exert much effort studying him to notice how stressed Foggy currently was. His blood pressure was quite clearly elevated this morning along with his cortisol levels–he could practically smell the stress in the faint bit of sweat on Foggy’s forehead. So apparently Matt wasn't the only one having a shitty day at the firm today. At least he wasn't alone in that.

“Hey, Matt,” Foggy began hesitantly, stopping just inside his office before shifting his weight back and forth along his feet almost nervously. “I know you're busy running yourself into the ground for the Richmond case, and I know how frustrating it's been to keep hitting a deadend. But…” he trailed off for a moment, Matt catching the faint waver in his tone. “I was actually hoping to ask you for a favor this morning.”

Matt’s head tilted curiously to the side, his eyes narrowing behind his glasses at Foggy. Leaning back in his desk chair, he lowered his hands down onto his lap and attempted to keep the annoyed fidgeting of his fingers hidden from his friend. The last thing Matt wanted right now was another task added to his agenda for the day. All he wanted was to make headway on this case before it drove him insane.

“What kind of favor?” he asked, trying to keep the edge from his tone.

Matt heard Foggy take a few more steps forward into his office, stopping just in front of his desk. The sound of something like a small slip of paper faintly rustled between Foggy’s fingers as he stood there. 

“Elliott got a call a bit ago from someone by the name of Edgar Philips who was potentially interested in hiring us,” Foggy began to explain, setting the paper down onto Matt's desk before sliding it across the surface towards him. “And the case sounded… interesting to say the least. But the thing is, Karen is out today dealing with the Rodriguez building permit thing, and I'm about to head over to the courthouse. So I was…sort of hoping you could call them back and handle the consultation? Somehow fit them in today?”

Matt could hear the way the muscles in Foggy’s face had contracted, sounding like he'd almost grimaced when he had asked for the favor. His heart rate had accelerated just a bit, meaning Fog was clearly anxious that Matt would decline to help take on even more work today. Truthfully he wanted to decline calling this possible client because he was already swamped with the Richmond case, but maybe taking a few minutes to focus on something else would benefit him. Maybe stepping away for a bit before coming back to things with a fresh mind would help him see things a little differently. Clearly he wasn’t making any progress this morning doing what he had been doing. 

With an exasperated sigh, Matt slid his hand across his desk to where he’d heard Foggy set the slip of paper. His fingers felt around the wooden surface for a second before he found it.

“Yeah, I'll make the call,” Matt told him, pulling the paper towards himself. 

Foggy let out a relieved breath, the sound of his entire body relaxing impossible for Matt's ears to miss. At least he could make Fog's day a little better.

“Great, seriously! Thank you, buddy,” Foggy said in a rush. “You have no idea how helpful that is right now. I've already got so much to do today, I really didn't know how I was going to fit that call in. And you know how bad the reception can be at the courthouse.” Foggy laughed good-naturedly, his mood already lifting. “But hey, before I go, did you need me to read that phone number off for you? Or dial it even?”

Matt's fingers ran over the indentation of Elliott's pen marks on the paper. Despite how scatterbrained their new secretary often tended to be, he at least appreciated that the man had a heavy hand when he took notes from the calls he answered. It at least made things easier for Matt to read without too much extra assistance–something he loathed having to ask for if he didn’t need to.

“No,” he answered with a shake of his head. “I can make the numbers out just fine. Don't worry about me, Fog. Just go take care of what you need to. I'll deal with this Edgar Philips.”

Foggy’s hands clapped loudly together, Matt picking up on the sounds of his feet as he already began to back out of his office. 

“Thank you, Matt, you're a life saver!” he exclaimed. “You know, more than you usually are.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Matt said with a grin. “Can you just shut the door again on your way out, though?”

“Can do!” Foggy replied. 

Matt swore he heard the air shift as Foggy sent him a salute. Chuckling lightly at his best friend's ability to lighten the mood, he heard the sound of his office door closing before he heard the muffled sound of Foggy’s footsteps as he began making his exit from the office. 

For a minute Matt sat in his chair, listening as Foggy said a brief goodbye to Elliott before leaving. Then the usual ‘silence’ of their office returned. Though it was never truly quiet to Matt because he could still hear the hum of the lights in the building, the almost constant tapping of Elliott's fingers on his keyboard in the room over, and even the incessant buzzing of a fly that had been trapped in the office since yesterday afternoon. 

Foul mood slowly returning, Matt's fingers ran over the pen marks on the slip of paper still in his hands. Glancing down towards it, he wondered what the interesting case that Foggy had mentioned was actually supposed to be about. To Matt, interesting just translated to complicated, which was the last thing he needed right now. Though whatever it was, he figured getting the call out of the way would be the best course of action for now. Afterwards he’d be free to continue working on the Richmond case for the rest of the day, hopefully without any further interruptions or distractions.

Shifting in his chair, he slipped his cell phone from out of his dress pants pocket, the electronic hum of it louder now that it wasn’t muffled by fabric. He raised it to his mouth before speaking a few voice commands into it, then he took a second to recite the number he’d been given from off the paper. Sitting back in his chair, Matt listened to the familiar dial tone as he held the phone to his ear, but surprisingly it only managed to ring twice before someone had quickly answered.

“Seriously, Lindsey, I said I’d call afterwards,” a distinctly annoyed and hushed female voice came over the line. “There’s nothing of interest for me to report yet and now you’re just making me even more nervous. At this point my armpits are going to be as sweaty as my hands.”

Sitting forward in his chair, Matt rested his elbows along the top of his desk. A small grin slipped onto his mouth as he tossed the little slip of paper somewhere among the mess of papers before himself. He hadn’t expected that to be the response to his call, but now the person on the other end of the line had captured his undivided attention.

“Maybe you should try using more deodorant then,” Matt cheekily suggested.

A surprised gasp met his ear, the sound making his smile widen further. Clearly whoever he'd gotten ahold of had just now realized they were in fact not speaking with Lindsey. 

“Oh, shit,” came your clearly embarrassed and still hushed voice as the realization that you were speaking to someone else settled in. “I'm sorry, I totally thought you were my friend calling back. I didn't check the caller ID because I didn't want my ringtone to make any more of a nuisance than it already had been making because it's so loud. I swear I don't ever hear it if I don't have the volume up so high. But now I am incredibly regretting the decision to not just have taken the two seconds to look and check the number first.” 

There was a pause where you loudly cleared your throat over the line. Matt found himself still grinning at the word vomit that seemed to keep coming from you with no end in sight, his irritation at having to make this call quickly vanishing. His left hand began to absently fiddle with a pen from his desk as he listened to you ramble on further.

“Clearly you're not Lindsey and now I'm absolutely mortified,” you continued in a rush. “But for the record, I am wearing deodorant. A lot of it actually. I'm just nervous and it makes me extra sweaty, alright? I don't like job interviews. They terrify me.” Your voice dropped to an even quieter tone as you continued on, Matt not remotely interested in stopping you because you had easily become the most fascinating part of his day. “And I dislike when you have to sit and wait in those stiff plastic chairs while the secretary keeps shooting you random smiles from their desk like you're not about to vomit all over the floor from nerves. I swear they make you sit outside the office for at least ten minutes like it's some sort of extra secret test before the actual interview takes place. Are they supposed to be judging how I sit and do nothing? Or how I handle intentionally being asked to show up at a certain time but am purposely made to sit and wait? I swear, it’s done on purpose.”

“So what I'm gathering from all of that,” Matt finally began when you had paused to take a breath, still grinning as he spoke, “is that you are not the Edgar Philips I am looking for, nor were you the one who most likely tried contacting the law firm of Nelson, Murdock, and Page earlier this morning on his behalf. Am I correct in that assumption?”

There was a very long pause on your end of the line after he'd spoken. Matt waited patiently for you to respond though, his left hand still leisurely flipping the pen back and forth between his fingers.

“Did you say…law firm?” you hesitantly asked. 

“Yes, I did,” Matt replied. 

“So you're a…?”

“Lawyer, yes. One of the partners, actually,” he answered easily. “And one who must have somehow gotten the wrong number it appears, judging by your response.”

“Yeah, I uh–” you cleared your throat again, “–I definitely didn't call your office today. And I am certainly not Edgar Philips.”

“Ahh well, my apologies,” Matt said, setting his pen back down on his desk before sitting back in his chair. “I'm sorry to have interrupted your day, especially at such an inconvenient time as right before a job interview. I suppose I shouldn’t further distract you.”

There was a small part of Matt that almost felt reluctant to end the call already, dreading having to ask Elliott for help with the clearly incorrect phone number so he could get in touch with the actual Mr. Philips before going back to that irritating Richmond case. You'd been an amusing distraction this morning at least. 

“Actually you've somehow managed to calm my nerves,” you replied. “Apparently embarrassing myself with a stranger has now made me feel less like vomiting.”

“Any less sweaty?” Matt teased, unable to help himself.

You laughed lightly over the line, the sound a pleasant one that seemed to ease the tension from Matt’s own body. Something about your voice and your way of immediately speaking to him as if you'd known him for longer than two minutes had drawn him in.

“Maybe a fraction less, thank you for that,” you answered. “You uh, you have a calming voice, whichever part of Nelson, Murdock, and Page you are.”

Matt's brows quickly shot up onto his forehead in surprise. No one had told him that before.

“I do?” he asked.

“Mhmm,” you hummed back. “You know, if you ever need money, you'd be great at calling people and talking to them until they relax before they have to do something they're nervous about–like going to a job interview. Or maybe even attending events with them to keep them calm or something. You know what I’m saying?”

Matt couldn't resist the laugh that slipped out of his mouth, his head tilting to the side. “Is that an actual thing that exists? Because it almost sounds like you're just describing a male escort,” he pointed out.

“ No !” your harsh whisper came over the line, the embarrassment in it causing Matt to chuckle again. “Oh no, that's not–no I didn't mean it like that! I swear! Is that even legal in New York City? Though I suppose maybe you don't live here since this is a wrong number and all... But no! That’s not what I meant!”

Matt relaxed further back in his chair, finding that he'd been enjoying this unexpected conversation with you this morning far more than he could’ve thought. He truly didn't want to end the call even though he knew he would need to soon. Though he found himself wishing for an excuse to talk to you again already.

“I do live in New York City actually,” he answered. “And male escorts aren't supposed to be getting paid for their time in the way that you're currently thinking about, so yes, they are actually quite legal.”

“I imagine as a lawyer that owns your own law firm, though,” you began, “you don't exactly need a side hustle as a male escort. And that–that’s a joke, by the way,” you quickly clarified. “You know what? Just forget I said that, I'm just nervous for this interview. I'm rambling.”

“You are, but I'm enjoying it,” he told you. “But our law firm tends to take on lots of cases pro bono, so truthfully, I could probably use a side hustle. I'll keep your vote of confidence as a male escort in mind if I ever struggle to continue paying my bills.”

The bark of laughter followed by your soft curse under your breath had Matt’s cheeks hurting from how wide his smile had grown. 

“Despite how entertaining this call has been, I should really go,” you said. “I imagine they should be calling me back soon and I probably shouldn’t be sitting here looking like I’m having so much fun on the phone judging by the frown the secretary just gave me. I’ve never had one frown at me before and I’d really not like to mess up my chances here. I kind of really want this job so I can actually do something with my degree.”

“Well, I’m sure you’ll do just fine, but either way, I wish you luck,” Matt replied. “I should probably get back to work myself, but I’ll admit that you’ve been a pleasant distraction from a case I’ve been struggling with myself, so thank you.”

“Then I wish you luck as well, stranger,” you replied. “I hope you make some progress on your case.”

“I suppose if I don’t, there’s always other viable career options for me that I’ve recently had my eyes opened to,” Matt teased.

He enjoyed the sound of your laugh over the line one last time before you told him goodbye. Almost reluctantly Matt ended the call, lowering his phone down onto his desk. His smile faltered as he once more overheard the sound of Elliott’s fingers typing on his computer. With a defeated sigh he pushed his chair back, rising up to his feet and accepting the fact that he’d need to ask Elliott for help dialing Mr. Philips correctly.

“Matt, this is–” Foggy began but quickly stopped himself.

Matt sat back in his chair, a triumphant smile spread wide across his mouth as he continued to listen to both Karen and Foggy rifling through the documents he’d had printed out early this morning. The three of them were currently sitting in the conference room while Matt proudly sat back, enjoying the sound of the pair of them getting excited over what he’d discovered yesterday afternoon. Apparently taking a step away from the case for a little bit had been just the thing he needed to do to come back at it with a different angle.

“Dude, this is exactly what we needed for that Richmond case!” Foggy finally exclaimed, his head darting up towards Matt. “You’re brilliant!”

“Ahh, well,” Matt said with a smug smile and a shrug of his shoulders. “Just doing my job, Fog.”

“This must have taken a lot of creative thinking,” Karen muttered, still flipping through the papers. “Hell, Matt, I think you just saved this whole case.”

Matt had been about to respond, tempted to make another cocky comment, but the sound of his phone receiving a text cut him off. Brows furrowing together slightly, he slipped his hand into his pants pocket and pulled his phone out. Holding it up to his ear and muttering out a command, he slid back his chair from the conference table before rising up to his feet and walking a few steps away from Foggy and Karen. 

He frowned slightly at the number the automated voice began to read off in his ear almost immediately. It wasn’t one he had recognized. Why would a strange number be texting him? Though when he heard that same automated voice begin to read out the text message he’d received, a small smile easily slipped onto his face.

“Just wanted to let you know that I was offered the job already this morning,” the automated voice read into Matt’s ear. “Apparently you’re my good luck charm, stranger. So thanks for the chat. Hope you made some progress on your case, too.”

For a moment Matt just stood there in shock, holding the phone to his ear and grinning like a fool. He hadn’t expected to ever hear from you again, and he certainly hadn't anticipated the burst of pride at your news. And apparently you’d also been his good luck charm because after he'd dealt with the real Edgar Philips, he finally made a break on the case that had stumped him for weeks. 

Without a second thought, Matt turned around to face both Karen and Foggy, lowering his phone to his side. “Hey, I’ve got to respond to this message,” he told them. “Do you mind if I handle this back in my office now?”

“No, no,” Foggy answered distractedly, the air shifting as he clearly waved Matt off. “Go do your thing, buddy. We've got plenty to focus on at the moment.”

Trying to fight back the growing smile on his mouth as he maneuvered his way back over towards where he'd been sitting, Matt picked up his cane that had been resting against the table. As he navigated his way out of the conference room and back to the privacy of his office, he already began thinking up a response to your message. And he also wondered how strange it would be if he called instead of texted you back.

#matt murdock x reader #matt murdock fluff #matt murdock x you #matt murdock #daredevil

[john-cleven]

Under the Same Sky (You and I)

“Come on, Buck, keep pace with us,” John mutters as he watches the squadron flying behind them. He knows he has to stay calm, has to stay focused, but the farther they creep into Kraut territory, the more John’s thoughts veer helplessly towards Gale. 

It’s not long before they’re ambushed by fighter pilots - far too many to count. They swarm the air like viscous wasps, intentions coated with violence. John can practically taste their hunger to kill as they surround the American planes. The Germans slip in from all sides, tearing apart formations with their high velocity bullets like the flying fortresses are made of paper mache. 

Amidst the assault, John hears Gale’s name through the comms. Alert and anxious, he swivels around to peer out the window of the B-17, searching. John’s heart jolts into his throat. Gale’s fort has been hit. Agitation and concern electrify the ends of his nerves, lighting him up from the inside out. Gale’s fort has been hit. 

Without thinking, John scrambles towards the back of the plane, fingers itching with murder. Fear and fury rampage against each other within his veins, clouding his mind. He pushes Murph aside and grips the machine gun with trembling hands. Red spots swim in his vision as he targets the Luftwaffe, soul salivating for their demise. He mercilessly fires upon the enemy fighter pilots, outraged that they continue to target Gale. How fucking dare they. 

Carnage surrounds them as they fly through the flak. B-17s erupt in massive clouds of smoke and fire. Crews leap from their wounded planes, desperate to survive. Airmen swing from parachutes, vulnerable to the bullets whizzing through the air. Bodies explode and break apart in bursts of crimson as they slam against forts, unable to change their trajectory, unable to avoid such gruesome, gory deaths. 

Time slows to a crawl as John ceaselessly fires the machine gun. He’s hyper focused, consumed by a burning revenge, consumed by a primal urgency to protect Gale’s fort from the German fighters that circle them like starving sharks in blood-infested waters. 

Finally, the Luftwaffe retreat, fuel running too low to continue their deadly hunt. John pries his quivering hands from the smoking machine gun in front of him and collapses to the floor. He tries to blink away the red clouding his vision as his lungs heave for air. They manage to drop their bombs on the factory, a successful mission. Still, John cannot swallow down the dread that has infected his body. Cannot tear his distressed thoughts away from Gale.

 “Is Cleven’s fort still with us?” he asks, eyes glued to the blue sky around them, as if Gale’s plane might emerge from the clouds at any moment, safe and sound. 

“They’re beat to shit and trailing way behind, but they’re still with us.” Intense relief causes John to nearly go boneless. He closes his eyes briefly and repeats the words in his mind. Gale is okay. Gale is still with them. 

Miraculously, they land in Africa. As soon as John’s feet hit the ground, he turns to wait for his friend. He watches the distant sky with intense focus, feeling suspended in that singular moment. Dread and hope clash against each other, sending the electrical currents in John’s brain into overdrive. He feels himself nearly shaking apart, feels himself nearing the edge of a precipice – because it’s all or nothing. 

Finally, Gale’s plane glides into view. At last, John’s heart has returned to him. He rushes to a jeep, blood pounding through his veins. He has to see him, has to make sure he’s okay. When John pulls up, Gale is helping his injured crew from the torn apart fortress. He leaps out of the jeep, barking out orders to help the wounded, then watches Gale carefully from a few feet away. He’s banged up, but John doesn’t notice any severe wounds. He clenches his fists and keeps his distance as he drinks Gale in with hungry eyes, all too aware that they are not alone. 

“I don’t know how you flew that thing all the way to Africa, but you couldn’t make the runway,” John says, feeling like he might collapse when Gale finally makes eye contact with him. God, he is so beautiful. John can’t help the affectionate smile that blooms on his face as he forces himself to not reach out for the other man. “It’s right there.” 

Gale doesn’t reply and walks a few steps away, looking for the rest of his crew. John follows after him, like a moth to a flame, but his heart drops when he sees the body the other men are carrying. 

“Who is it?” He asks quietly, eyes glued to the mutilated corpse of the airman. 

“Norman Smith, radio operator,” Gale replies, voice husky with sorrow and regret. John swallows down the bile that rises in his throat. Even though he knows that Gale is still reeling from the loss, John can’t help but to imagine the roles reversed. What if that had been Gale, blown apart? What if John never saw him again? 

“I lost four forts,” Gale says, tearing him away from his spiraling thoughts. John watches as the blonde aimlessly wanders away from the plane, eyes empty. 

John turns after him, trailing behind, “I know.”

John can see that Gale is drowning in his grief, still shocked from the bloodshed he’d barely managed to escape. He glances back at the few men left that are still checking on the plane, irritated that they aren’t gone. His fingers itch with the need to touch Gale, to feel his heart beating beneath his palm. He wants to hold him and comfort him, wants to climb inside his skin and live there forever. But not yet. 

“We’re gonna get through this. Come on, don’t stop believing that,” John says, trying to pull Gale back to him, away from that battle where Gale can only re-experience the demise and suffering of his squadron, of his men, of his friends. 

“Sure, Bucky,” Gale says, but John can tell he doesn’t believe it. 

Gale turns towards the setting sun, blue eyes dimmed and distant. John glances backwards one more time and breathes a sigh of relief when he notices they're finally alone. He reaches out his hand and twines his fingers through Gale’s. The man beside him barely twitches, still staring out towards the mountains that have begun to shroud the sun. John tugs Gale around to face him and places a gentle hand on his injured cheek. Gale stares at him, eyes still glazed over with anguish. John slowly presses forward to lean his forehead against Gale’s and strokes his jaw with his thumb. 

“It’s you and me, Buck,” he whispers, his love for this man spilling out from every pore on his body. 

He hopes that Gale knows that John would do anything for him, go anywhere for him. Without Gale, there’s no life worth living. John has been completely and utterly bewitched by the man in front of him since the moment they met. For John, there can be no one else. He patiently waits for Gale to see him, to come back to him. Finally, Gale’s eyes focus and he squeezes John’s hand that’s still linked with his. 

“You and me,” he softly repeats, eyes fluttering closed as John tilts his head and presses his lips firmly against Gale’s. 

#hboww2rewatch #mota #masters of the air #clegan #john bucky egan #gale buck cleven #john egan #buck cleven #bucky x buck #masters of the air episode 3 #mota episode 3 #gale cleven #bucky egan #I like to imagine that they kissed in the beautiful lighting on the sunset #that they held each other and put their pieces back together #ugh these two own my heart and soul #livv writes

[natimiles]

Heartbeats (Roger x OC)

Summary: Mina and Roger get closer, and the furtive glances start after a little while. It continued for a week — that’s when Roger disregarded all pros and cons and acted on his desires.

Words: 1311

Tags: mentions of blood; pre-relationship; Roger being Roger (I guess).

Notes: I am actually late because I had a hard time writing this. I knew how I wanted the kiss to happen, but I couldn’t set up the whole scene together. But here I am! Written with my OC Mina.

For the weekly prompt from the ikevil server — prompt: first kiss

It had been a week since Mina arrived at Crown, and Victor had arranged a dinner for everyone to celebrate her time there. She sat between Ellis and Liam, chatting with them while eating, when a third party interrupted her attention on the current conversation and her forkful of food. Her hand hung midway to her mouth as her gaze traveled from Ellis to Roger, an unreadable expression plastered on her face.

“Will it be too dangerous?” she asked.

“No… Hopefully not.”

“Will it kill me?”

“No, I won’t lose a subject that easily,” he smirked.

“I see…” She tilted her head to the side, pondering for a moment, her golden eyes trying to peer into his soul. Then she shrugged. “Alright. Then I don’t mind helping you out.”

Roger’s smirk widened, and he raised an eyebrow, while some other members looked puzzled but remained silent — it was her choice to refuse or agree with the former doctor, after all.

When he first asked Mina to participate in his research, he was certain she would refuse, maybe even curse at him. He couldn’t read her very well, but judging by the expression on Harrison’s face, Roger assumed she wasn’t lying; she would truly help him.

From that day on, Mina went to the basement after breakfast and assisted Roger with various tasks: giving blood samples, sorting documents, doing check-ups to collect data, testing things between human and cursed, and even organizing the room. Whatever help was needed, she provided. He admitted he was almost becoming accustomed to her presence... Even when there was nothing to do, she stayed. She would sit in a corner, a book in hand, quietly reading while he worked.

And from that day on, tension slowly built between the two of them.

She thought he was handsome since they first met, but to be fair, she found all of them attractive; she even questioned if it was a perk of being cursed. However, as the days passed, she found herself increasingly drawn to him.

Mina would often be in her usual corner, her eyes instinctively shifting to the man in front of her without her even realizing it. She’d stare at his profile while he focused on his own tasks, forgetting about the book in her hands within seconds. Whether she was assisting him with something, having dinner, or on a mission, it didn’t matter where they were or what they were doing — her gaze would seek him out, and she would involuntarily observe him until he looked back.

At first, he just smirked and didn’t pay much attention. But as he noticed her heartbeats rising, or her breath hitching, Roger’s attention started to be drawn to her too. Meaningful glances exchanged here and there, him searching for her voice around the castle when she wasn’t in the basement, and instinctively keeping her behind him when they were on a mission... It was all happening too fast, and he felt the tension between them growing bigger and stronger.

Roger would be analyzing his records, focused on new data he had acquired, when he’d suddenly hear her heartbeats increasing, prompting his eyes to shift to her usual corner to observe her. Their eyes would meet, and they would gaze at each other for a few seconds before one of them decided to return to their tasks.

Neither of them talked about it, and both simply pretended nothing was happening. She didn’t want to label her feelings, afraid that acknowledging them could lead to something she wouldn’t be able to handle. And he didn’t bother trying to analyze or define it.

The furtive glances continued for a week — that’s when Roger disregarded all pros and cons and acted on his desires.

Mina was sitting at the table while he collected her blood — in a gentler manner than he did with the other members — and Roger was doing everything he could to touch her and hear her reactions.

Ba-dump, ba-dump… It was addictive to hear her heartbeat quicken and grow louder, knowing he was the cause.

When he finished and placed a bandage, she attempted to hop down from the table, but stopped when she noticed he didn’t move an inch. On the contrary, Roger placed his hands on both sides of her and leaned forward, locking his eyes with hers — amber and golden, gazing at each other as if engaged in a staring contest.

“What?” She frowned, doing everything she could to keep her voice firm.

Ba-dump, ba-dump, ba-dump… her heart beat louder, faster, and Roger let himself be guided by it.

His lips collided with hers, and his tongue asked to deepen the kiss within seconds. Bringing one of his hands to her neck, he cradled her face with a gentle touch that contrasted with the rough, relentless kiss. Slowly, he made his way to settle between her legs, pressing their bodies closer.

Ba-dump, ba-dump, ba-dump, ba-dump…

Mina didn’t know what to do at first; she let Roger take the lead without even processing what was happening. Then her hands grabbed him by the lapel of his vest, but she wasn’t even sure if she wanted to pull him closer or push him away and slap his handsome face. His hand was hot against her skin, his tongue was exploring her mouth with a fervor she had never experienced before, and her legs trembled against the sides of his body as she fought the desire to lock them around him.

When he pulled away, it was as if her mind could finally start thinking properly again, and she shoved him back. He easily took a few steps backward, giving her space.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” Her tone bordered on cold.

“Kissing you,” he shrugged, smirking. Studying her face, he expected her to complain or even cry, but she only stared back at him, her golden eyes darkening in a way he had never seen before — she was furious. “That’s one nasty expression you have there, lil’ lady.”

He wouldn’t lie; he was delighted by her angry face. It was as if she finally gave away some sort of clue about what she was feeling, and he didn’t have to rely only on her heartbeats or the way her breath caught in her throat. 

Mina didn’t say anything back. Seeing how he looked more amused with each passing second made her even more furious, and she didn’t trust she would be able to keep her anger under control anymore, so she thought it’d be wiser to just leave. She wanted to kick him, maybe kiss him again, and then slap his face. She was lost, confused, nervous, and angry, and Roger’s smirk wasn’t helping at all!

She hopped down from the table, giving him one last glance before making her way to the stairs and leaving the basement. Roger didn’t try to talk to her; he just let her be for now. He knew she needed her space, and he also knew her heart was still beating fast and loud when she left.

The woman walked to her bedroom, glad she didn’t encounter anyone on her way there, and locked the door. Flopping down onto her bed, she buried her face into her pillow to scream.

What were they doing? She wasn’t even sure about her own feelings, let alone his... They shouldn’t be kissing like this. Yes, they had been exchanging some furtive glances here and there for a week now, but he didn’t even ask if he could; he just kissed her.

But she... didn’t dislike it. If she really thought about it, she was expecting something to happen someday, but maybe not yet. Turning around, she stared at her ceiling and stayed there until dinner time, fighting every little part of her mind thinking it was the best kiss she’d ever had.

Masterlists

#ikemen villains #ikevil #ikevil roger #ikevil fanfics #ikevil writings #ikemen villains roger #ikevil x oc #ikevil oc: mina #ikevil oc #ikemen villains x oc #ikevil roger barel #ikevil roger x oc

[phantombanquet]

Main Story: Diasomnia Book Chapter 8 Episode 7-117: Preparation for Departure! (Translation)

Episode 7-117

⚠️ Major Diasomnia spoilers! Proceed with caution.

translation by: phantombanquet

Idia: MALLEUS-SHI, HUH~~~~! 

THIS GRUDGE… SHOULD I LEAVE IT UNSETTLED~~!! ¹

If that happens, that pretentious inexpressive² guy, who usually keeps up his strong chara moves up in his sleeves…..

I can't help but feel sorry for myself if I don't see his pathetic figure sobbing with a runny nose and begging for forgiveness!

Now, what should I do…… Heh… Ehehehehehe!

Ortho: W-What a malicious scheming face…

This… May have angered someone who shouldn't be angered~

Idia: Heheh…… I'll show you. The ultimate power of a lone wolf³ trained in the gloomy “underworld.”

Just you wait, Malleus Draconia……

I'LL GET REVENGE BY SEIZING YOUR SPECIAL WEAKNESS!!!

Ortho: ……That's all.

From the magical disaster caused by Malleus Draconia until the awakening of Idia Shroud. This concludes the progress report.

Grim: Oohh~~! While we were fightin’ over in Lilia's dream, that's what happened to you guys.

Silver: I see. So Idia-senpai and Ortho are outside of the magical realm. It means that there is support coming from the real world. 

Idia: Y-Yeah, t-that sort of thing…… Well, for now, we'll be playing a dummy video on the surveillance camera for a short while……

I can only do this much.

Sebek: So, even if you have woken up, Malleus-sama will fail to notice and the “darkness” will not attack you.

Ortho: Yes.. And like I said earlier, Malleus-san is currently……

Focused on putting Lilia Vanrouge-san to sleep. 

So, I expect that he has not traced down the whereabouts of Silver-san and the others.

Sebek: Hm. I honestly want to praise your skills, but it is quite complicated when you are outsmarting Malleus-sama……

Idia: Well, that other guy is a battleship-like⁴ cheater so… We're still far off from completely capturing him.

Silver: However… I had no idea that Malleus-sama continued to expand his magical realm beyond the island……

Sebek: Furthermore, if the area is forcibly destroyed from the  outside, there is a possibility that the trapped person's psyche could also become destroyed!?

Grim: Somehow it's a real mess for real.

[Choice 1] Yuu: Can we do something about this?

[Choice 2] Yuu: (If this continues on, Tsunotarou will become the enemy of mankind.) 

Ortho: Yes. That's why we need your power!

Silver: Our… Power?

Ortho: Currently, the S.T.Y.X. staff is working together to assign ID numbers to the dreams of those trapped in the magical realm. 

During that time, we captured your magical reaction as you “moved around on your own” in the dream.

Silver: Could it be that it was my “Meet in a Dream?”

It's my unique magic that allows me to cross between dreams……

Ortho: Yes! That one, that one!

When traces of someone moving from one human dream to another were discovered, the engineers at S.T.Y.X. were in a commotion.

So that was Silver-san's unique magic, after all. Magic is a really mysterious power, huh.

Silver: However, my magic is to reliably travel to the dream of the person I'm targeting after, like you guys. I can't call someone into my dream.

I don’t know what else to say; it's hard to explain… It's a very intuitive kind of magic……

That’s why I was really surprised when Ortho appeared in the Dream Corridor and led us here. 

Ortho: What are you saying?

S.T.Y.X. prides themselves on their super computers and experts in magical engineering and magical analysis. 

They tried their best to analyze magic and they finally found a way to travel from dream to dream. 

Moreover, it is difficult to say that the current method is 100% reproducible so they said: “it's still a beta version.”

The mere fact that you can do it intuitively is astonishing.

Sebek: Hm. So the “power” that you need is Silver's unique magic?

Ortho: That's a part of it, too, but…

Sebek Zigvolt-san, Grim-san, and Yuu-san, your cooperation is essential.

Grim: Hmph! You're just trying to make us do the messy work, aren't ya!

Ortho: Wow♡ Grim-san, you talk too fast. 

[Choice 1] Yuu: This pattern is similar to the headmage……

[Choice 2] Yuu: I don't see any other reason to  be called out……

Sebek: Hmph, I don't like this sluggishness. Get to the point!!

Idia: S-So, uhhh……. While you guys were chattering in Lilia-shi's dream..

I-I was trying to think of a way to escape from my dream world……

Or rather, I've been trying to come up with a strategy to deal with Malleus-shi.

[Choice 1] Yuu: Is your strategy to get him to cry and beg for forgiveness while his nose is runny?

[Choice 2] Yuu: Is it a strategy to take revenge by capturing their special weakness?

Idia: Y-Yeah. That… Hih, hihi.

Anyhow, I made a video to explain that strategy…… W-Would you like to watch it?

Grim, Silver, Sebek: Video?

Idia: Waah~♪ Only good things have been happening lately~ It's so fun every day~ It's just like a dream~♬ Well. It was, in fact, really just a dream. Welcome, all you carefree people who live in the world of empty dreams. I am Idia Shroud. So for today, a cheat trick to create a dream world using magic — — was used by The Most Evil☆Final Boss Mage. Let me explain the strategy used by Malleus-shi. The magical realm that Malleus-shi created is kinda like a server running a huge MMORPG. And each dream of someone sleeping is managed individually. Malleus-shi is using himself and his alter ego to keep an eye on this server. To give you an idea, Malleus-shi is a server admin. And his alter ego is cracking down on users to commit violations in the online game — like a gamemaster. Malleus-shi, with the authority to operate and manage over the entire server, is currently in the state of a demon king who has the world right under his thumb.

Under Malleus-shi's control, we have NO chance of succeeding…… BUT! Because of the super geek hacker group S.T.Y.X. and Ortho's attack, all of the server's source code (construction formulas of the magical realm) has been analyzed and is now completely visible!

So — I'm going to use that data from my dream to develop and build a cheat tool. And then get rid of that damned invulnerable status! It seems like a perfect strategy at first glance, but in fact, there’s actually a flaw in this cheat strategy……. If Malleus-shi (the server admin) discovers this during development— IT'S GAME OVER IN AN INSTANT. But hold your horses! Despite that his alter ego uses autonomous magic, with the total population of Sage Island, monitoring and managing the dreams of about 20,000 people is not an easy task — even for Malleus-shi. If a problem happens here and there in your dream, there's a high chance that you'll have to deal with it by yourself! Therefore — I’ll be developing a cheat tool. I want you guys to catch Malleus-shi's eye and gather party members so we can subdue the demon king.

When everyone wakes up, we'll hand out invite codes that will allow them to travel to my dream.

Then, when all the preparations are ready, Malleus-shi will be lured to my dream and that's when the cheat tool that I developed turns on!! As planned, Malleus-shi's invulnerability will be canceled. And by using the invite codes that were diligently handed out, everyone will gather in my dream! We're going to beat him up with our sheer numbers of forces!

If things go as expected, Malleus-shi will also lift the spell and free us—! How was it!? “A lone wolf magician engineering guy explains how to capture the demon king in three minutes video.” If you think this video was good, leave a like! And this was Idia Shroud.

Grim, Silver, Sebek: ............

Idia: Ummm, e-everyone… Thank you for your attention. ⁵

Th-that’s why……

I ask you guys to go on a journey to gather “the strongest party members who will take on the challenge of defeating the demon king!”

Grim, Silver, Sebek: EHHHHH~~~!?

TO BE CONTINUED...

translator notes:

¹ - 「この怨はらさでおくべきか」 is an old Kansai (Osaka) dialect phrase. This phrase, although it seems like one will forever hold a grudge, actually means something along the lines of: “Shall I leave this grudge unresolved? (No, I actually have to solve this),” due to how the phrase is structured (which would be too deep to delve into but it’s mainly because of the か and べき/べし in the phrase).

² - 「スカしま」 is a Japanese slang usually used as an insult

³ - 「陰キャ」 is yet another Japanese slang used to describe someone with a gloomy or reserved personality or introverts. I used a known English slang instead of translating literally to preserve the meaning of the word.

⁴ - 「弩級 (どきゅう)」 is the Japanese translation of “Dreadnought,” which is a type of battleship in the early 20th century. Idia was just being a nerd again by using game-like terms so I decided to stick with using “battleship” instead of the literal translation.

⁵ - I wanted to note that Idia addressed them as 「皆様」which is a polite way of addressing others due to the inclusion of 様 (sama). Also, the “thank you for your attention” line was written as 「ご清聴アリガトウゴザイマシタ」 in the text instead of the usual 「ご清聴ありがとうございました」 which I think it's just to note Idia's personality www.

personal notes: this wasn't jp proofread so there might be inaccuracies;;; additionally aniplex jp actually posted the "how to subjugate the demon king" video but it's only available in japan.. you can still access it by using a vpn though~

#twisted wonderland #twst #twst translation #diasomnia #diasomnia chapter 8 #silver twst #sebek zigvolt #idia shroud #ortho shroud #twst grim #twst yuu #diasomnia spoilers #twst spoilers #phantombanquet #phantombanquet twst

[fernlessbastard]

how do you think they'd react to the other getting hit on

Absolutely possessive, and they're both passive-aggresive about it. Like "ha ha yeah he is hot! I know, right? Ha ha ha and the best part is that he's all mine." type of thing

Ok so first and foremost: obviously if they get flirted with they'll immediately state they're not interested and are also in a relationship. That being said, when the other is around they let their counterpart handle the situation, cause that's just what makes it more fun

So, I'd imagine they both have a tendency to kinda like, use oversharing as a way to "gross" people out

They'll just start leaning against - or rather on - the one who's being flirted with more and more, and with just the most passive aggressive politeness they'll happily disclose some of their private life, making it clear that they are very much together

Wilbur likes to pull the "you know where his previous husband, before me, is right now? Six feet under. Or I guess at the very least that's where lies what remains of him..." with just the biggest smile ever. Quackity finds it too endearing to even bother clarifying that the guy died of a heart attack, that the 'what remains of him' refers to Quackity eating his heart, and that legally him and Wilbur aren't even married (yet). He just likes seeing Wilbur get that sparkle in his eyes, passive aggressively telling people how lucky he (Wil) is, and how unlucky they are cause he's the one dating Q and they're not

Ok tried to keep it pg13 so far cause it is a more general question, but I'll give a more nsfw elaboration in the context of like, at a club or something under the cut

While Wilbur's more so focused on making sure everyone around knows that Quackity is his and only his, Quackity more so loves to focus on reminding Wilbur about how he belongs to Q.

He'll pull Wilbur in by the waist, trace his hand over the man's lower back, play with his hair a little in a way where it curls around his fingers tightly so that all he'd need to do to pull Wilbur's hair would be to lazily gesture his hand slightly back, etc. And verbally he won't shy away from telling the person how good of a boy Wilbur is, and how obediently he listens, so on and so forth, sometimes even going a bit into detail. Basically he'll happily talk about Wilbur as though he's not there/as though he's a dog obediently sat waiting for his owner to finish talking. And Wilbur absolutely loves that. He loves Quackity being possessive, he loves the physical reminders that he belongs to him, he loves the praise, he loves that little sprinkle of dehumanisation, and everything is nicely tied with a bow of exhibitionism, humiliation of people finding out that he's "just Quackity's plaything", and also just being a general menace to people

Altogether I'd say that pretty much every time Quackity gets hit on Wilbur ends up in his lap (the second he's able to) which eventually turns into some very soft and loving sex with lots of reassurance and words of affirmation, meanwhile if it's Wilbur who gets hit on most of the time it'll be rather BDSM heavy (but still just as loving, obviously) and Wilbur's probably gonna be ending up as a happy, but extremely exhausted wreck, cuddled up to Quackity who's giving him countless little kisses and continues to tease him with little whispers

#ask #asks #ask fern #spicy #ferns spicy rants #fern rambles #fernless rants #tntduo #c!quackity #quackity #c!tnt duo #c!tntduo #c!wilbur #c!wilbur soot #c!quackbur #dsmp #dsmp quackity #dsmp wilbur #quackbur #tnt duo

[ms--lobotomy]

Almost done with finals. Almost. Pretty merman on the mind. Aah. [Previous]

Summary: You and Mortarion go for your first swim together.

Word Count: 1044

Content Warnings: dad rock, scars, saccharine sweet content this time around

Image Credit: @squishyowl

You slid the wood-and-glass door shut with a loud THUMP. You held your phone in one hand, encased in a plastic bag, and a small speaker in the other. You felt his eyes on you, careful not to linger too long on your exposed skin. You looked down at him, a light smile dusting your lips. His eyes widened as they trailed up to meet yours, and his mouth hung slightly agape.

"Mortarion?" you asked, feeling your heart skip a beat.

"It's nothing," he said gruffly. "What's in your hand?"

"Oh!" you exclaimed, holding up your phone. "This is a phone, it's... it's a lot of things, really, but the battery on it sucks. But if I open up the right music app and turn on the speaker..." you said, pressing a button to light up your speaker before focusing on your phone to open up your music app of choice. You scrolled to one of your more calm playlists, and pressed play.

Mortarion's eyes widened as he heard the strum of an acoustic guitar. You dipped your toes into the pool. D-major-7 chord, followed by a B-sus-2, dropping to G-sus-2 before moving back to that D-major-7.

"I can... play the first chord," you said. "I'm still learning this one." Meanwhile, Mortarion was laser-focused on the sound coming from the speaker.

"Hello... I've waited here for you..."

You were knee-deep now, getting acclimated to the water. Mortarion's tail swished from side to side, and he leaned on the side of the pool. You stepped lower as the voice in the speaker crooned its next word.

"Everlong."

You stepped off the stairs and winced as the water came up to your chest, cold against you. Mortarion turned around, his face expressionless as he edged his way towards you.

"You're cold."

You nodded as Dave Grohl continued the first verse of the song, shivering as if on cue. "I'm sorry," you mumbled, folding your hands over your stomach. "Sometimes I just need a minute to acclimate to this pool."

His expression was as rough and cold as ever, but he lay a light hand on your upper arm. It almost engulfed it. His fingers ended in sharp, ash-dark claws that rested against your skin. His pale skin was slightly iridescent, dotted in some places with light yellow-green scales. You shivered again as you looked back at him. His hand was warm on you.

"Do you..." he started before clearing his throat. "Do you wish to come closer?"

You froze, blinked, and then nodded. "I'd like that," you said sheepishly. Before you knew it, his other hand was cupped behind your back and he rested your head on his chest. His skin was rough, scarred. You felt not one, but two heartbeats in your ear. You would have said something, but his two hearts was far from the strangest thing about him. He leaned back, putting his back to the water.

"And I wonder... when I sing along with you..."

As the song hit the chorus, you looked up at him. His eyes were still trained on the speaker, even though he was swimming around in the pool with you. It was almost uncanny, but... cute? You couldn't deal with those thoughts. Not now. You looked back down, and right next to your eye was a stitched-up scar. You tensed up.

"Your scars," you said, a lump forming in your throat. The scar was already scabbing over, and the sutures stuck out of his skin like skinny little spikes. You opened your mouth to say something, but he spoke up first.

"They'll heal," he rumbled. "I've dealt with worse."

"But you haven't washed up on shore..." you trailed off, looking up at him. "Right?"

You felt him shudder underneath you. "Oh--" you interjected before you felt him tense up. "You don't have to talk about anything you're not comfortable with," you said. "I promise."

"You saw nothing," he hissed, before his expression softened. He closed his eyes and sighed. "Fine, I guess I have no other choice than to trust you," he huffed, a hand on your back. You felt the claws against your skin, but he refused to let them sink in. "I will not be talking about it. Not now."

"Go at your own pace," you mused, as the last chorus of the song began to come into full force.

"If everything could ever feel this real forever..."

You felt a hand at the back of your head, pressing you into his chest. You felt his heartbeats in full swing, beating wildly. You didn't resist, wrapping your arms around him as much as you could. He was skinny for his size, yet muscular. You couldn't wrap your arms all the way around if you tried. You stayed like that for a few moments. He closed his eyes.

"Are you feeling okay?" you asked as the song came to a close.

You felt his twin hearts flutter. "I am doing fine," he said calmly. "I can ask the same for you?"

"Yeah," you said, shifting on him. "Yeah."

An advertisement blared out of the speakers, and Mortarion cocked his head. "This is... far less pleasant," he said, turning upright in the pool.

"Oh, right," you said, holding onto him. You couldn't reach the bottom where both of you were, and he wrapped an arm around you. "Oh, uh.." you started. "Do you mind if I swim over to my phone? I need to close and reopen the app."

His grip on you relinquished. "If that's what it takes," he said as you doggy-paddled over towards your phone.

"I promise I'm a better swimmer than this," you smiled, looking over your shoulder once you reached the side of the pool.

Mortarion was staring at you. Not as coldly as you normally had seen him, even though he hadn't even been in the pool for 24 hours. You felt your heart seize in your chest. You didn't want to admit anything to yourself, no, you hadn't known him that long! You felt your heartbeat calm down. This was just fascination, not real love.

"The... phone, it was called?" he asked.

You felt a lump in your throat grow. "Yeah," you said. "Let me stop this ad real quick."

Taglist: @bispecsual @justeverythingnothingelse @bleedingichorhearts @nekotaetae @historitor-bookshelf

#someone shows him BASIC ASS KINDNESS and he MELTS istg #warhammer 40k x reader #primarch x reader #mermay #mermay 2024 #mortarion x reader #reader insert #mortarion

[ihearthhj]

if i could go back in time — hwang hyunjin

⇨ chapter one : a loop of fate

⇨ pairing - hyunjin x fem!reader

⇨ word count : 1.4k

a/n -- first chapter !! i swearrr i have longer and better chapters coming ( they will be unscheduled for now, so join the taglist if you want to be tagged for them ty ) 😭😭 this was sort of a crappy "first draft" that i was too lazy to edit.. anyway pls enjoy to the best of your ability

series masterlist | next

is there ever that one memory that your mind can't help but wander to occasionally?

mine constantly played like a broken record in my head, flickering like an undying candle in the crevices of my brain. an unwavering light in the blurry paraphernalia of memories.

i remember that day quite clearly. the day i lost one of the people i loved the most. the day my world came crashing down on me.

every day i throw myself into a whirlwind of grief, blood, and tears subconciously. i was locked in a cinema, forced to watch it over and over again in front of my eyes.

it physically hurt, but it was uncontrollable.

we were in the middle of the road.

drunk at a university party, the alcohol and endorphins in our system were going through the roof. we ended up stumbling outside the house for a breath of fresh air, and we were waltzing in the middle of an empty street.

what a stupid decision.

and i thought it was romantic.

it was, technically speaking — if you were drunk, that is. the dim street lights cast a warm glow over the street, showering our intertwined bodies moving in synchronized steps in a splash of illumination. if someone captured the scene with a camera, with the shadows of two figures dancing on the ground, you’d consider the view sentimental somehow. straight out of a cliché movie scene.

every once a while, through all the movement we'd step away from each other, and i would twirl under his arm with our hands still entwined. then smiles were exchanged when our gazes met, and his beautiful eyes would sparkle. i felt like i could continue on like this forever and not get tired at all.

but he suddenly stopped me and his hands rested on either sides of my waist, prompting me to face him. i stared up in his face, a smile resting on my own. a smile that was reserved for him, and only him.

then he kissed me.

it was slow and passionate. my eyes fluttered closed as he held me in his arms, time slowing down around us as there was no one except us.

and maybe it was the fact that we were drunk. maybe it was because we were so lost in the moment and so focused on love—

maybe it was both.

because we didn't hear the sound of a humming car motor until it was three feet away from us.

he heard it first.

i felt his body stiffen against mine, hands going rigid on my hips. my eyes opened, only to be looking up at a face filled with horror and shock, a strange light that i didn’t know from where it came brightening his side profile. confused, i opened my mouth to speak, but i was abruptly pushed away to the side of the road, my head hitting the cement before i could realize what was happening. my ears picked up on a crash, the deafening screech of brakes.

and a body falling to the cold, hard ground.

the last thing i saw was a familar silhouette through my half-closed eyes and a car just beside them.

then the world went black.

six years later

different people process breakups in different ways.

some people go on with their ordinary lives like it was just a speck of dust on the table. they pick it up, and throw it away.

other people, however, see it as a tablecloth, covering the entirety of the table. then they go get their best friend and cry to them about it. or if they’re unsociable, then they usually go to the club or the bar to cry with the accompaniment of alcohol.

that was you, frankly. unsociable and introverted.

were breakups always this depressing?

the atmosphere of the dimly lit bar was humid and damp. the air smelled of dried sweat and liquor. music sounded around the space, supposed to lift your spirits, but your face as wet with tears.

it was straightforward proof that unpleasant luck had landed upon yourself. your latest acquaintance, a guy named wooyoung you met at a club, was one another addition to the pile of failed relationships.

he was a perfect person, to be direct. he was sweet, bought you gifts, and cooked. a literal angel. not to mention, he was incredibly good in bed.

average boyfriend material, or so you thought.

it happened one night, when he was in the shower. he was over at your place, staying the night. you had hoped that tonight would be what you thought it’d look like.

then everything happened in a blur. a text tone, you getting curious, then accidentally finding out there was someone else.

another girl. it was almost funny how your suspicions were always right.

you confronted wooyoung about it, then he got mad and left after a very heated argument.

all the plans of an actual peaceful future were shattered in that one small moment.

you thought you had finally found someone who you loved, and loved you. someone who you thought could cover up all the pain that was buried deep in your heart, hidden by the bigger worries of your career and life.

thought, thought, thought.

all thoughts, never reality...

the hurt that your mind experienced when you thought of the cause of the pain could not be beared.

you couldn’t remember the last relationship that made you happy, truly happy. the only one that actually did ended devastatedly.

you also couldn’t remember the last time you got drunk like this.

usually you were nowhere near open to big amounts of alcohol.

the last time you’d downed more than five shots consecutively was back in university, at a party. but that was for a different reason than why you were drinking now. it was for fun, purely fun.

and that supposed fun had been cut off disastrously. it ended up in a pool of tears and blood.

but somehow every single thought in your brain always took a turn and led to thinking of it. the day that made your life become a turn of events.

it was a never-ending loop, and your thoughts constantly ran in circles, always leading to the same place. like a song on repeat on a broken cd player that couldn’t be turned off.

you took a swig of your shot glass, swallowing all the thoughts away.

you gestured to the bartender for more. your head felt light, and dizziness was seeping into your system by the second.

looking around the bar, you took in your surroundings. this bar was one of the popular ones in the city, the space larger than most others. the dance floor was bustled with people, but you never participated in the crowd activities, being too unsociable even under the influence of alcohol. you would’ve preferred to stay home and drink, but you forgot to purchase liquor after your last breakup.

the bartender placed another rack of tiny shot glasses on the table, promptly leaving to take another customer’s order. picking up the miniature cup, you stared at the brownish liquid before taking a big swig and finishing the whole thing in one go. your throat burned as you swallowed, but you didn’t care.

it felt good, strangely.

why was everything turning into something bad? something that you were scared of happening?

you felt like everything in life, supposed fate, was cornering you and forcing you to plunge in eternal darkness. the harder you tried to make things better, the worse they became.

fate was what ruined your life and was still ruining it. when would something good actually happen?

you picked up another glass from the rack as another customer sat down in the high seat next to you.

they were two guys, chatting and laughing loudly. you closed your eyes at the headache coming on at all the noise, adding on to the already bustling atmosphere of the club. you should leave soon and suffer your hangover.

“yeah, just back for some business,” one of them said with a laugh.

through the blur and ache in your mind, your eyes shot open. was it just your imagination? the glass of liquor stayed in your grasp as your gaze turned towards the guys.

you swore that you knew that voice, that laugh. it was one that you would never get tired of hearing.

but after what happened years ago, you thought you’d never hear it ever again.

the guy turned towards the bartender standing behind the counter to order his drink. your eyes scanned over his features, and you almost let out a cry.

it was the curve of his nose, the brightness of his eyes, and the pout of his lips that you knew so well. his hair, kept in the same length as it was six years ago, was now pitch black. you swallowed the bile that had risen up in your throat. it couldn’t be him.

hwang hyunjin.

taglist : @hildaortara @203sucks @iovecb97 -> join taglist here

#skz #stray kids #stray kids hyunjin #skz hyunjin #hyunjin stray kids #stray kids imagines #skz imagines #fanfic #stray kids fanfic #skz fanfic #skz x reader #skz x y/n #skz x you #hyunjin x you #hyunjin x y/n #hyunjin x reader #stray kids blog #stray kids x y/n #div cr to their respective creators !!

[snowflakeanimelover]

Relationship: Thomas Shelby x Mafia Boss!Female Reader

Fandom: Peaky Blinders

Warnings: cussing, death, major character death, secrets, lies, no Y/N mentioned, she is only given a last name, badass reader, lots of lore, slow burn, this chapter is a little rushed.

NOTE: this is basically just a Prologue, but if enough people like it then ill continue this :)

I believe this would be a perfect fit for readers theme song, for this story. Hence where the title comes from, as well.

══════⊹⊱≼≽⊰⊹══════ ══════⊹⊱≼≽⊰⊹══════

Prologue: The Greeting

══════⊹⊱≼≽⊰⊹══════ ══════⊹⊱≼≽⊰⊹══════

“Where is Tommy?”

That particular voice is very well recognized in this area. It has a stern and motherly tone with strict trauma behind it. The voice is so familiar that anyone who hears it from a distance of a mile away would know exactly who it belongs to. That voice belongs to none other than Polly Gray, the aunt of the Shelby brothers and sisters. Polly is known to be the intelligent one in the family, along with her nephew, Thomas Shelby.

Anyone who knows Polly knows to keep themselves a few feet back. She’s one woman no one wants to mess with—Thomas Shelby’s protection added to the threat.

“I don’t know,” John Shelby, second youngest brother, replied to his aunt with a simple shrug of his shoulders. “Fucker went off on his own a few days ago without saying a bloody word.”

A woman sat not too far from the Shelby and Gray. Her job is quite simple. Someone who counts the money in the Betting Shop, amongst other people. So far, she’s been working there for a few months now. Never has she spoken to the Shelby’s much, besides when she first met them to get the job.

But she wasn’t looking for talk. Her bright orbs often glanced over the shop, studying each and every person who belonged to the Peaky Blinders. And most importantly, she keeps her eyes on the important people, such as the Shelby family members and their allies.

Her back was facing John and Polly as they spoke, due to her desk being in a certain place, but she didn’t care. She doesn’t have to look at them to know what they’re talking about.

”What’s the trouble?” John finally asks after a beat of silence. Knowing her his whole life, he can't miss the unusual way she paced and looked a bit frantic. She’s worried about something, and if that's the case, then it ain’t good for the business or the family.

“Sullivan,” she answers him a bit harshly. “Tommy is supposed to meet him today, and he’s not fucking back.”

The woman listening in on the conversation raises her brows, pausing her writing and she tunes in. This was very important.

John nods absentmindedly, showing he’s listening. “Alright,” he stresses, rubbing his chin in thought. “Alright. Well, send Arthur.”

”Fucking Arthur?” Polly asks in disbelief. “You can’t be fucking serious. Tommy would have his shit if he knew Arthur took his place.”

”Well, what the fuck do you want me to do?”

The woman had already tuned out their voices as she brought herself into deep thought. She takes a moment to think properly; her plans, her ideas, her past business. And within a few minutes, a wicked smirk plays on her lips.

══════⊹⊱≼≽⊰⊹══════

Light chatter and curses echoed in the small, empty church. The cloudy day had refused to shine light into the holy building, only candles lit in the most important places.

”What the fuck is taking him so long?” A man curses, pacing back and forth in the candlelight. His few body guards stood around, guns in their hands for preparation.

His lips part once more to complain about the tardiness of his new ally, but the sound of the door to the church creaking open makes him pause. Sullivan tilts his head, focused on the new arrival. Although it was too hard for him to see, the darkness took over the corners. “Thomas Shelby?” He calls out, guessing who it could be. “I don’t got all fucking night, eh? I’ve got things to do. Business to take care of,” he boasts, annoyed that his ally was late.

”Well, that’s no good,” a feminine voice breaks the silence, one Sullivan knows well.

Sullivan flinches back in surprise, pointing a finger at the darkness. “No, no…” he mutters in disbelief. “H-How the fuck did you know I was here?!”

“Come on, Jordan,” she teases lightly, slowly stepping into the light. Sullivan takes another step back. It’s her, for sure. The clothes say it all. The only woman to wear such material, such style. Much like the Peaky Blinders. “You’ve done me dirty. You think I’d just let you go so easily?”

”I said,” he yells out, anger and fear taking over his form. “How the fuck did you know I was here?!”

She takes another step forward, a threat. And that was it for Sullivan. “Fucking shoot her!” He demands, his bodyguards doing exactly as they are told.

Guns fire and men fall. It ended within seconds, with Sullivan’s men down in a heartbeat.

Sullivan watches in fear as two women come out from the darkness, dressed the same as the woman he fears the most. Members from her gang. Guns held tightly and confidently in their hands, pointing directly at Sullivan. She didn’t even have to lift a finger.

Sullivan doesn't say a word as he turns and flees, running through the back door of the church and into the dirty streets. She merely laughs, trudging off her long trench coat and handing it to one of the women standing by her side. “A chase?” She chuckles, rolling her shoulders. “How fun.” With that, she starts the chase.

══════⊹⊱≼≽⊰⊹══════

The run didn’t last long, to her disappointment. The man was down with one simple trip on the uneven gravel, hitting the ground hard. She jumps over a crate that was in the way, and stops to study the scene.

A smile grows on her lips as she pulls out her gun from her holster, pointing it right at him.

Sullivan’s words are slurred together fearfully as he begs to leave her alone, to let him live. He stumbles to push himself back up and eventually gives up, staying on the ground with his hands up in surrender.

“Where’s the money, Jordan?” She hisses, cocking the gun back.

”P-Please—please let me go, I-I swear I’ll pay you back all that I stole, Miss Rose,” he begs, “I-I’ll give you even more than that!”

She takes a moment to observe his fearful state. The way his body shook. The way he cowards with the gun being pointed right at his head. She reveled in all of it.

She wastes no more time putting just a little bit of pressure on the trigger, the bullet flying. Sullivan jerks back as the bullet goes straight through his head, and his body falls back.

Relief didn’t come as much as she hoped. The hairs on the back of her neck stood on end—A feeling she was being watched. Her hand holding the gun lowers as her orbs turn, finding none other than Thomas Shelby, Arthur Shelby, and John Shelby standing there with their guns pointed right at her.

A sigh leaves her lips as she puts the gun back in its holster, pulling a smile at the boys. “Apologies,” she says, noticing the shocked expressions they hold, “I didn’t know I had an audience.”

#kates blabs #x reader #thomas shelby #thomas shelby x reader #thomas shelby x you #arthur shelby #john shelby #polly gray #mafia boss reader #female reader #mafia boss #mafia #peaky blinders #peaky blinders x reader #fan fiction #badass reader #Spotify

[littlecactiguy]

A short writing exercise on John Doe from Malevolent, roughly based on a short video from I want to say late last summer/fall where Harlan voiced over them doing a farming game (I think? It's been a while, but I'm fairly certain that was a thing. Anyway, it's been sitting as a draft that long).

Let me know what you think <3 I'm considering signing up for the big bang as a writer, but want to get a feel for this fandom space before I commit to anything.

.

Of the three horses in the pasture, only the one John himself has now learned to ride comes over at his approach to the fence. Arthur’s gelding’s ears rotate in his direction, but the creature doesn’t seem to consider John more important than his grazing. The big, old draft horse who came with the small farm, and is enjoying his retirement immensely, continues to enjoy both the sunlight and his nap.

John isn’t so self absorbed as to believe his mare has any specific allegiance to him. She’s a horse. She’s intelligent, but he’s not been convinced that she has the capacity to understand the finer points of reasoning on why she shouldn’t ally herself with a former horror from beyond human comprehension. She’s simply learned to associate him with certain things.

Slowly, John takes the apple he’d snatched from the kitchen table fruit bowl out of his pocket.

Like treats. Mostly treats.

John holds out his hand, the apple carefully balanced on his palm. His mare sniffs. Her whiskers tickle his hand. Then, she accepts the offering. The mare’s lips rub against John’s hand as she takes and crushes the apple between her powerful teeth.

It’s a strange sensation, but not an unpleasant one. John has found he rather likes it. Touching a fellow living creature, feeling its warmth and its life beneath his fingertips is…

It’s hard to describe. Despite his attempts to do so in a journal he has firmly told Arthur he’ll murder him for if he ever comes close to reading, John still doesn’t know how. His relationship to sensation while in Arthur’s body has become a hazy dream he can only half-remember, but the parts he does…

Those are…

They weren’t all bad, John often convinces himself. The cold and the chill, the empty, simply all haunt in a way warmth, true warmth, not the burning heat of freshly spilled blood, do not. It makes their memory sharper in his mind’s eye, easier to recall.

John’s mare steps closer, reaching her head over the fence to nuzzle at his pockets.

“I’m afraid that’s all I have today.” John strokes her mane. Focuses on the softness. Allows the thought of its comfort to wash the fragments of dark doubts back into the deep ocean from whence they came. “Arthur may have a point about too many treats, but we won’t tell him that, will we?”

This mare had never been afraid of John, or growled at him like various dogs he’d met, whose eyes told John they could see him in ways others could not. He’d attributed her lack of fear, at first, to her perhaps not being all that smart, but the mare has indicated otherwise (largely through pasture escape attempts, which John can’t truly fault her for, being able to go where you want when you want is quite nice).

He doesn’t believe she’d ally herself with him if she knew any better, but horses, even the dim ones, are also notoriously, instinctively, jumpy creatures.

John’s mare’s calm around him makes him feel something he refuses to put to words in fear it’ll be chased away.

Even if it’s only, obviously, most likely only due to the apples.

#john doe malevolent #malevolent podcast #malevolent #john malevolent #character study

[cosmics-beings]

being a starscream fan is always difficult because you have to navigate interacting with people who completely pacify him and excuse all his actions and paint him as a innocent person who can't be held accountable for the shit he does. and going as far as saying you excuse abuse if you try to hold him accountable for how he treats others. nevermind the fact that u yourself are an abuse victim and you wanna look at him multifaceted and you know, not excuse his abusive actions toward others.

but at the same time, you also have to navigate people who absolutely HATE him, and will act like they don't and claim they just see him critically, when most of their content is bashing him for his abuse, excusing it, saying he's an awful person and getting mad at people for seeing him as a victim or wanting him to have better. literally saying he deserves what happens to him. ike a lot of people will flat out slander him, while uplifting characters who are worse than him, will say that starscream doesn't deserve redemption, or saying that anyone who wants better for him is excusing him or worse, going out of their way just to be extremely unfair and critical to him.

it's difficult because i love starscream and i do see him critically. but it's hard being around people who will just pacify his actions, and then try to go to someone so you can have indepth convos about him only to realize that 'oh, this person actually hates starscream, they haven't said anything remotely positive about him'.

#esp like in tfp #then yeah i do get why people tend to be protective of the character #and i wa slike that at a point too #especially in prime and idw #but when i found myself excusing how starscream treated others -especially knockout #then i had to take a step back #and then in earthspark people got mad when you pointed out how poorly he treated others #and even in idw - he treats bumblebee and windblade like absolute shit and people just brush over it and also only care about bumblbee in #a sense where bumblebee only exists to take care of starscream and his problems and he can treat him anyway #the same thing happened with starscream and knockout #and when people just constantly excuse that and use the excuse that he has trauma #and that we can't hold him accountable then yeah that sucks #on the flip side you have people who only call out his flaws and are extremely hateful toward him and even blame him for his abuse #like yeah you have people who rightfully call out how shitty he treats others and are very keen to make sure that we know he isn't this inn #innocent person #but that is where it stops and they continue to hate on him #they get mad at him for his abuse and not u know mad at the person who is abusing him in fact many times they stan and defend that person #and all their content surrounded or focuses on starscream is extremely critcal and unfair #and only focuses on how bad he is and gives him absolutely no nuance or empathy #a lot of 'critical fans' of starscream really just care about shitting on him and slandering him and acting like he's the worst possible #person who deserves the abuse and the hate he got #and anyone trying to offer a nuance perspective and wanting him to be treated better is accused of 'woobifying him' when we're just saying #want him to be treated better #and it's like starscream is very complex and nuance and if you're going out of your way to slander him while uplifting other decepticons #if you are going out of your way to absolutely shit on him and give him no empathy or anything and shit on him and downplay what he went th #then you don't like the character and that's my issue #i haven't been able to find a really good balance #of fans akdjfl;afja #like it's either on one side or the other

[yooniesim]

Collective and final post should've just been an apology and a promise to do better. But I guess that's just too much to hope for.

#ceci speaks #nonsims #text #delete later #definitely shouldnt have had more lies and easily disproven claims in it tsk tsk #and continuing to insult the people triggered #shows absolutely 0 remorse not that i expected any better #you didnt say one damn thing you did wrong not one #you couldnt even admit or say sorry for ONE thing #i said sorry for my stupid ass meme reference joke which was dumb of me and was the only leg u had to stand on #which ur tryin to spin as me being anti asian with covid which is fucking stupid considering #i am asian too u stupid fuck and i had patients calling me corona and ch**nk and not wanting me to tend to them before they fucking died #i know about covid racism against us very fucking well #i dont need a statistic to tell me about it bc i was knee deep in ppe trying to get blood from ppl that blamed me for it existing #i watched people die from covid for three years straight i know it all fucking well #and yet i still apologized bc the joke was in poor taste and i feel bad it was misconstrued and hurt others #you cant even apologize to the people you hurt bc youre too focused on not being wrong about anything #you can delete the posts if u wanna theyre already there #in screenshots #i tried to get you to stop for over a week and you wouldnt leave me alone #i refused to mention your name for days and you kept insulting me and mentioning me over and over again #and you had the nerve to call other ppl stalkers just because they shared ur cc in a cc finds channel #now you're trying to talk nice #or nice enough that someone might feel sorry for you after you showed your entire ass for a week #i dont feel sorry for you one bit #not after all the bullshit you said that youre trying to delete now that ppl found it #too late #eat shit #negative #im done for the night goodnight and sorry everyone

[mymarifae]

a turnip for you all

#and a special note: #don't doomscroll today. this grave injustice today is horrifying on multiple levels yes. but here's the thing #things can always change. less focusing on the fact that this has happened and oh we're all doomed we can't do anything #and more focusing on the things you CAN do. because there is always always always something #even something as seemingly small as reblogging a few informational posts and providing others with important resources #that's not small at all. that's VITAL. #share resources. donate to abortion funds if you can (i've reblogged a few links to some already) #SAVE info about how to get misoprostol and shelf lives and whatnot. because i wouldn't be surprised if webpages start being taken down #don't just bookmark the links. SAVE the information. permanently. later i may download pdfs and host a folder on my drive or something #delete flo and request that all your information be wiped as well. tbh don't use any period tracker apps #if you have to keep track. do it on paper. something that can be shredded and disposed of by yourself #rather than let the information be permanently stored by some company. #deep breath. it's going to be okay. it's not over. the fight will continue and there are ways for YOU to directly contribute #yes YOU. you at home sitting on your bed or couch. #the problem with modern day activism is too many people believe there's nothing significant they can do #but even the tiniest contribution from a large number of people can do wonders. look at your options and decide what you can do and do it. #and take care of yourself. remember the golden rule: if you go to protests leave your phone at HOME #and don't talk to cops. ever. inform them you are invoking your right to remain silent and you are invoking your right to an attorney #chin up stay safe stay strong. it'll be okay #turnip

[vaugarde]

oh also we watched the mlp g5 movie yesterday and i really liked it tbh ^^ it was very cute and vibrant and all the character designs were pleasing (in fact i really prefer looking at these characters in cgi), and izzy was my favorite, tbh i kinda just love every character kimiko glenn voices

#racism metaphor was very clunky and i cant really say too much on it but like i didnt have much hope that it wouldnt be clunky #so i just focused on the characters and yeah i think theyre all really good ^^ #but like. we talked abt this a lot but man i REALLY wish this wasnt in the g4 continuity #not just bc it doesnt make sense but bc conceptually it feels like such an insecure decision #like this world wasnt good enough to warrant being its own thing. it had to be a continuation #even tho the lore and such is clearly different from g4. like i feel like they wanted to make it standalone like the other series #but they panicked and thought ppl wouldnt care if twilight wasnt there. but i feel like all it does is hinder both series #bc no one wanted this to be where g4 ended up and it keeps g5 from doing its own thing bc it has to connect to g4 #like im not opposed to the wind creatures (not saying their name) not showing up bc they suck in the first place #but writing wise its weird to not even mention them at all when it was important to the worldbuilding #did the ponies just love being racist that much that they killed the wind creatures?? #if it was me and i HAD to make it the same continuity id probably have put this in the past instead of the future #but then we couldnt have ponies on phones ig #or epic g4 references #im gonna try out the show but im like hmmmm bc lex said the show was a lot worse abt this #i swear the movie itself was good and i liked it! but i can see easily see the lost potential #and how g4 is going to keep holding it back and refusing to let it be its own thing #echoed voice

[thebraxiatelcollection]

I really hate starting things, get really passionate about them, then just...lose interest in projects/hobbies.

#text post #i used to look baking and cooking and i was doing really well with it during covid #but now #i just have no energy to cook #i baked something the other day and it was a disaster #meant to be sponge pudding but it turned out to be like a pancake? #never been that bad before so i gave up #i think the one constant thing that stayed with me is possibly writing fanfiction #i mean my longer wips have been hit and miss except dead and breakfast #but fanfiction is something i love even if nobody really reads my stuff #im doing it for myself #i think this has been ongoing since my teenage years due to mum #i would get into hobbies and things and then money reasons and mum just being in a real bad mental state at the time... #it makes it harder for me to continue hobbies on long term #like i would get super focused on it in the first few weeks when starting something #used to love colouring drawing even if i was bad at it #maybe i just put too much expectations on myself on how good i should be at these things