#and for the two fanfic requests in my ask box

[florelia12]

[writa-anon]

"is that.. supposed to be me?"

francis mosses (the milkman) x artist!reader

a / n ~ boom! first fanfic :3 i was a little inspired by uh.. myself LOL when i started playing tnmn i realized i was horrible at memorizing faces so i started drawing the characters to help me remember and it works sooo much. but anyway, super cute oneshot where they first meet, hope u enjoy :D

content included ~ isaack mauss, francis mosses, reader is an artist and doorman, no pronouns mentioned for reader, use of (y/n), shy n wholesome first encounter

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ 4.10.24 | 1.6k words

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“Another slow day at work, huh?”

A enthusiatic-ridden voice boomed, instinctively making me look up to meet the gaze of a strong-jawlined man. I cleared my throat and placed my pencil on the scratchy sheet of paper, sitting up in my chair.

“Good afternoon, Mr. Gauss.” I greeted, grinning that customer-service smile.

“Good afternoon, (y/n). I assume work is treating you well?” He said before sliding both his ID and request form through the letter hole. “Only your third day and you’re occupying yourself with side hobbies!” He exclaimed, squinting a little to see my doodle through the glass screen. I chuckled a little as I examined his ID.

“Eh, yeah..” I sighed. “But this actually helps with my job, believe it or not!” I said proudly, pulling out the floor 2 folder to compare his ID number. “I’ve been drawing neighbors in order to remember their features better. It’s especially helpful because of my terrible memory.” I said, shaking my head. Isaack simply chuckled as I placed the folder to the side as I went through his request form.

“That’s pretty smart.” He commented. “Who have you drawn so far?” He asked, curiously tilting his head. As I went through the checklist as I idly thought to myself.

“Umm..” I hummed. “The Schmitts and the Mikaelys are definitely in here.” I finished up the last check before rolling back to my sketchbook, using my finger to thumb through the pages.

“Unfortunate. I haven’t been drawn yet.” He faked pouted. I rolled my eyes before flipping one or two pages before presenting the portrait to him.

“I’m not necessarily finish. Your face is pretty hard to encapture.” I sighed, looking at the smears of led blended together. Isaack was something of a character: a big prominent smile that is not hard to catch a glimpse of in a room full of people. His hair perfectly styled each morning that still manages to maintain its shape by the end of the day. His voice had depth to it, almost like he was born to be the daily news reporter for radios and TVs of all kind. He stared at the drawing in satisfied awe before leaning back.

“Wow, it surely is accurate!” He beamed. I smiled proudly before placing my sketchbook down.

“Thank you,” I politely nodded. I slid his ID back through the letter box. “Everything seems to be good to go. You’re allowed in, Mr. Gauss.” He nodded in his head in gratitude, but however, did not my window just yet. He took a minute to ponder, as if contemplating his next move, before beaming his teeth once again.

“Ah, before I go,” he quickly inputed. “is there by chance Francis Mosses is on today’s list? He’s the local milkman around here.”

I raised my eyebrow a little, not exactly sure as to why Isaack chose to bring up this person’s name. I shook my head gently before folding my arms in front of me. “I’m sorry, Mr. Gauss, but I’m afraid I cannot disclose that information for you.”

“—Ah, of course.” Isaack quickly fixed himself, putting his hands up a little in defense. “I understand. I was just curious is all. I’m sure you know him though, no?” Thinking for a minute, I’ve realized that this is a neighbor I have not encountered yet.

“No, actually..” I pondered out loud. “Huh, that’s interesting. I guess he works a morning or night shift because the name doesn’t really ring a bell.” I noted out loud.

“Interesting.” He muttered. “Well, keep the name in mind. He’s a rather interesting person, and I think you would find him just as interesting.” Before I could say anything else, he gestured a quick wink before walking through the unlocked door. I quickly snapped out my thoughts before locking the door back up again.

Isaack never really mentioned other names— it wasn’t necessarily out of character, but it felt a little outlandish. I looked down to see my pencil in hand again and blank surface of paper. My eyes trailed over to the paper taped on to the wall next to my window, realizing that Frances was in fact on today’s check-in list. Out of curiousity, I located his room number before surfing through the folders. After locating folder 3 and apartment 02, I was able to find more about him.

He was a slim, tall man with a crooked nose and ruffled brown hair. His eye bags were prominent from what I assume to be lack of sleep. As I stared at his picture, my hand moved by itself across my sketchbook, forming a circle to start defining out the headshape. I squinted slightly, trying to feel for each detail in his face. From the way his eyebrows were rotated a little outward, defining more of his tired expression, to the bump in his nose bridge, making it a bit more interesting to draw. It was mesmerizing, almost wishing I could sit here and draw his face in perso—

tap, tap!

I nearly jumped out of my seat. The pencil flung out of my hand, rolling off of the desk. My eyes flickered up—

and there he was.

My breath near caught in my throat as I stared up in shock. The man behind the glass was barely shocked to see my reaction. His white “milkman” hat rested perfectly on top of his brown hair with small curls slightly peaking out. I was swift to regain my composure in my head as I folded my hands in front of me with my legs crossed under the desk.

“Good afternoon, sir.” I smiled. “I haven’t seen you before. ID and entry request?”

He let out a small hum, barricaded by his pink lips, as he took out his paper and ID. He politely slid them through the letter slot before I took the items to examine.

“Mr. Francis Mosses.. Lives on floor 03.. Room 02.. Coming from work as a milkman.” I glanced up to look at him, comparing the photo ID to his face. His expression was exactly alike: tired eyes, slight frown on the lips, crooked nose, and a clean shaven face. I double checked with his file already on my desk, making sure that the ID numbers and the description aligned with his ID. “Everything looks good.” I confirmed as I slid his ID back to him.

“Mmm.. Thank you.” He hummed. I turned around to place his request form in a folder, but once I sat back up, I realized he was still standing at the window, curiously staring through the glass. I raised my eyebrow a little, confused as to why he was still lingering.

“I’m sorry, did I forget something?” I asked. Francis shook his head before pointing down at my desk.

“Is that.. Supposed to be me?” He asked. A tiny bit of emotion seeped into his voice, dripping in interest and curiousity.

“I— oh—” I looked down to see the rough drawing of Francis sitting at my desk, drawn with sketch lines still lightly defining his features, while the harder drawn areas sculpted his prominent details. “Yeah..” I mumbled. “I-I’m sorry if it makes you uncomfortable!” I exclaimed. “It’s just a way to help me remember faces and I was going through the files and I realized I haven’t met you before so I—”

“You make me look so pretty.” He mumbled, almost breathlessly. A faint pink color brushed his cheeks as he was unable to take his gaze away from the paper.

“W-Well.. I do aim for accuracy.” I chuckled, complimenting the man right back. My nerves had calmed down after noticing his calm demeanor. “You could keep it, if you’d like that is.” I offered. It would be awkward if I kept the drawing rather than give it to him— I mean— this is his first time ever seeing me and it was an awkward first interaction right off the bat. It was the least I could do for him. Francis nodded his head and in response, I tore the piece of paper out of the scrapbook before sliding it through the letter slot.

“There you go.” I smiled.

“Thank you..” He replied, graciously taking the piece of paper and admiring it once again. “Oh— um,” He quickly looked up to me. “What is your name? I’m sorry, I’m not really good with.. Introductions.” He trailed off, but something about his shyness and reluctant voice made me grin even harder.

“My name is (y/n). I’m the doorman in training for this building.” I greeted.

“Ah, of course. I’m Francis— Mmm..Though you already know that.” He said, shaking his head a little by the end of his sentence.

“Well, it was nice meeting you, Francis. I’ll be seeing you around, I assume?” I said, sitting at the edge of my chair as I looked up at him.

“More often than before.” He smiled. It was the widest he’d grin throughout our whole conversation. Something inside me told me that he doesn’t pass around smiles like that easily. It made me feel accomplished in some sort of way. But with that, he departed from my window. I made sure to unlock the door and listen for the door closing behind him before locking it again.

Francis Mosses.

I think I have someone to look forward to on tomorrow’s entry list.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

really hoped you enjoyed! replies, reblogs, and even likes are super appreciated! thank you so much for reading :]

[mikaela-the-slut-expert]

Heyyy

I have been binge reading your blog and all the tgcf fanfics are *chef kiss* amazing

I was wondering if I could request hualian x m!reader where the reader has bad hand writing (hua Cheng who) and practice in secret and the practice is writing love letters for both of them but he never gave it to them out of embarrassment

but they stumbled on it accidentally

How would they react? Ans what would reader do once he finds out?

Sorry if it’s incoherent English is not my first language

Or if it’s too difficult you can ignore it

Thank you and have a nice day!🫶

Secret Love Letters!

HuaLian x M!reader

🪷 It's no secret you've got bad handwriting. Xie Lian and Hua Cheng both know.

🦊 This often leaves you and Hua Cheng to Xie Lian's mercy during calligraphy lessons.

🪷 Said lessons never go through because of Hua Cheng's pouring, or you two were able to distract Xie Lian with.... Other things.

🦊 You really do want to get better hand writing though, so you've been practicing in secret.

🪷 You often practice your hand writing by writing love letters for them. You never give them the letters though. You're far too embarrassed.

🦊 This often leads you to hide them away, in a box, stuffed away into the wardrobe.

🪷No one has found it yet so, you think it'll be okay.

🦊 You're practice isn't for nothing, your hand writing has gotten better.

🪷 You and Hua Cheng always try writing with your right hands so after giving up on your own private time you used your left hand just for shits and giggles

🦊 And it worked!

🪷 So now your hand writing is actually readable! You're very excited but you want to tell your lovers in a special way

🦊 however Everytime you write and finish a letter you look at it for far too long and thinks your hand writing is bad again.

🪷 Xie Lian and Hua Cheng have noticed you sneaking out of bed late in the night recently.

🦊 More like Hua Cheng. He doesn't need to sleep so he brought it to Xie Lian's attention when he noticed it was a pattern almost every night.

🪷 Xie Lian assure him, "It's probably nothing" and goes about his day.

🦊 It's cleaning day however and no matter how much hua Cheng insists Xie Lian doesn't need to clean, Xie Lian prefers to clean y'all's room anyways.

🪷 So when he's hands deep in the closet wondering how all this junk got in here, he finds a box.

🦊How pretty, but it's locked. Xie Lian brings it out and sets it on the floor. Him and Hua Cheng sit around it wondering where it came from.

🪷 Hua Cheng shrug, saying it can't be anyone else's beside in of y'all's so he breaks the lock and opens it with no struggle.

🦊Upon opening the box they find a stack of letters. The more Xie Lian looks at them, he recognizes it at your scribble.

🪷 The more letters Xie Lian and Hua Cheng go through, they can actually read them.

🦊You can write eligibly?!

🪷Xie Lian and Hua Cheng read through every single letter. All of them are different with endless words of sweet love.

🦊How sweet! How come you never told them?

🪷They don't get a chance to ask you. Amidst going through the letters, you enter the bedroom.

🦊 A pregnant pause, and long stares until you break it by darting over and grabbing the letters from their hands.

🪷 A blush dusts your cheeks and you hastily shive the letters back in the box. "What are you guys doing?! It's rude to go through people's things!"

🦊 You're embarrassed, so humiliated. You're sure they couldn't even read the letters you had written.

🪷 Suddenly Xie Lian is dragging you closer though, and holding your hands in his.

🦊 "We didn't know it was yours, but you don't have to be embarrassed" Xie Lian smiles gently.

🪷 Hua Cheng runs his fingers through your hair, "Since when did your hand writing get so good? You're leaving me behind in the dust, Qin Ai De"

🦊 You blush harder, "You... You could read them?"

🪷"Yes, they were very sweet" and suddenly your lovers are covering your face in kisses.

🦊 They have you write many things now.

🪷Xie Lian wills have you write letters for him, or recipes.

🦊Hua Cheng wants you to write him a new tattoo on his arm.

🪷 sometimes they don't need anything written, they just want to see your hand writing.

🦊You spoil them by agreeing to all their whims. So really it's your own fault🖤

[cringe-but-proud]

Hey! Can I request a Willy Wonka x reader? I don’t know if you’ve ever read the Anne of green gables series but there’s a dialogue where Anne tells Gilbert “I don't want sunbursts or marble halls, I just want you.” and if you can, can you put that in with fem reader saying this to Wonka when he’s worried he won’t be able to make it big from just starting out and providing for them with all his setbacks and of course it’s all fluff and soft?

"Yes anon." The fanfic writers all say in unison.

Willy Wonka x gn!Reader (Wonka 2023)

A/n: Since Valentine's day is coming up, I sort of made this post themed around that. My requests are open 🤠

Willy had been very self conscious lately. Which was not something he was very used to feeling.

It all started one day when he'd overheard a couple men having a conversation on the street. They were talking about the lavish gifts they planned to give their wives for Valentine's day. Diamond rings, expensive dinners, personalized portraits, on and on.

Before then, he'd had no problem with his plan of giving you flowers, chocolate, and a card. But, now? That felt like nothing compared to what other guys were doing for their significant others.

His insecurity grew from there. His chocolate business had only just started out, but he felt like he wasn't making enough money. That's why he couldn't get you a fancy gift. And if he couldn't get you a fancy gift then how would he ever be able to even support you? You'd never want to marry him if he couldn't support you.

His insecurities snowballed until he was absolutely dreading February 14.

The day arrived and saying Willy was nervous to see you was an understatement.

The two of you had agreed to meet at your house. He knocked on the door, his heart racing and his hands feeling a bit sweaty. When you opened the door he swallowed nervously.

You smiled at him sweetly. "Hi, Willy!" You wrapped your arms around him in a hug and he relaxed a bit. "Happy Valentine's day!"

"Yeah, happy Valentine's day."

You pulled back from the hug and led him inside. "Can I give you your gift first?" You asked excitedly.

"Uh- Sure. Yeah." He sat at your kitchen table and watched as you left the room, seemingly to retrieve the gift.

"Close your eyes." You instructed. He did as you asked. After a moment he felt your presence behind him as you put your arms over his shoulders to hold something in front of him.

"Now open."

He opened his eyes.

In front of him was a framed picture. It was his favorite picture of the two of you. When it had been taken, Willy insisted that you kept it.

"I made the frame myself." You said with a proud smile. "Turn it around." He flipped the frame to see a heartfelt love poem on the back.

"This is amazing." He gushed, smiling as you sat next to him at the table. "Thank you." He pecked your cheek and you giggled.

The sweet moment was soured a bit when he realized he had to give you your gift now.

He handed you the bag your gift was in mumbling a quick "It's not much." as you eagerly looked inside.

First, you pulled out the chocolates. They were in a heart shaped box with a card attached.

You read the card before opening the box of chocolate.

"About half of them are your favorites, and the other half are ones I think you'd really enjoy." He says as you popped one into your mouth and let out a satisfied hum.

"I'm sure I'll love them all." You said as you reached into the bag and pulled out the bouquet he'd gotten you.

"I grew those for you."

"You grew these for me?" You repeated, astonished he'd put in that much work for you. "Willy, I love them!"

"You don't have to say that." He shakes his head.

You tilt your head, confused. You gently put the flowers on the table with your chocolates. "What do you mean?"

"You don't have to pretend you love the gift." He shrugged. "I know you've probably gotten flowers and chocolate dozens of times before, and I know it's not extravagant or-"

"Willy." You say his name softly. He gives his attention to you. "Why would I not love this gift? You made me my favorite chocolate! You grew me flowers! That's so romantic!"

"But..." He trailed off, looking away nervously.

"But, what?" You asked.

He paused. "It's not expensive, or fancy, or... Any of that stuff."

"Why would I care about that?"

"Because-" He felt tears begin to well up in his eyes. "Because if I can't even give you a nice gift how am I supposed to buy you a wedding ring, or a house, or pay rent? How am I supposed to take care of you?"

You blinked. You couldn't believe what you were hearing. You'd never heard him be this distressed over anything.

After a moment, you gently cup his cheek with your hand. He gazes at you with his big, brown eyes that are wet with tears and it breaks your heart a bit. "Willy... I don't want sunbursts," you say. "I don't want marble halls," you continue. "I don't want diamonds, or pearls, or any of that!" You pause. "I just want you."

Willy's speechless. He stares at you for a moment and then his lips crash into yours.

The two of you share a sweet kiss for a long moment until you break away. "I love you, okay?" You assure him softly.

He nods, a small smile on his lips. "Okay." He says. "I love you too."

[viaoverthemoon]

Can I request some relationship fluff with vendetta Leon. It's just been so long when I have read some good fluff with that man. For some reason people rarely wanna make fluff fanfic for him🥲. So I request you please🙏. It's all upto you what on what scenario you want. Also don't feel pressured to write this. I just really love all your stuff so🥰🥰❤❤❤

Aww this is so cute 💕Thank you for requesting, my love!

Vendetta!Leon Kennedy x GN!Reader

Summary: On a rare lazy rain day, you can't help but think of a few memories ; You and Leon relax on a lazy day and make another memory.

Content: Husband Leon, just a whole lotta fluff on a rainy day!

Enjoy!

Memories

❁´◡`❁❁´◡`❁❁´◡`❁❁´◡`❁❁´◡`❁❁´◡`❁❁´◡`❁

The moment you woke up this morning and the heavy sound of rain from outside the house had flooded your ears, you knew today would be a lazy day.

And turning to see your husband still in bed next to you only made you happier.

You were reluctant to get out of the bed, but your bladder had other plans. You look over your shoulder at Leon, curled around you with his arms around your waist and fast asleep.

You turn in his arms and move his brown bangs from his eyes, caressing his cheeks and admiring his beauty.

This man, who has been through so much life-threatening trauma physically and mentally, somehow manages to look like a child in his sleep. Well, aside from the light stubble along his jaw.

You think back to the first day you'd met.

He'd spotted you in a coffee shop and approached you with a flirtatious smile.

His pickup lines were so bad, and you honestly tried so hard not to laugh. Although those efforts went right out the window when he went to lean on a wall and knocked over a nearby coat rack. He'd scrambled to pick it up and apologized to the shop owner before turning back to you with flushed cheeks.

How could you reject him after that?

Oh, and then there's when he'd proposed!

He asked you to marry him at a park. But before he could pull the small velvet box out, a child appeared out of nowhere and ran over the back of his leg with a bike.

The mother was mortified and apologized profusely. Leon assured her it was alright (even though he limped for the rest of the day) before returning to you.

Only when he reached for the ring again, the box was gone!

The two of you along with Chris, Carlos, Claire, Jill, and Rebecca, spent all afternoon looking for the ring. But it wasn't there.

Leon was devastated. He looked on the verge of tears as he quietly apologized. But you'd told him it was fine, and a ring is only a ring. You don't need one to ask someone to marry you.

So, he pulled himself together, got down on one knee, and proposed to you without a ring.

Of course, you said yes.

Oh, and the box was on his motorcycle the whole time.

These memories are ones you hold closest to your heart. There's good, and there's bad. There're even moments of in-between.

But the moments of the two of you are forever.

So, you always make the most of what you get.

"Why're you staring at me?"

You blink away the memories and stare into his bright blue eyes.

"No reason..." You shrug and kiss his forehead. "I just love you."

His grip on your waist tightens and he smirks. "I love you too, (y/n)."

He goes to nuzzle into your neck, but you laugh and push him away. "Leon- I have to pee!"

"No."

"If I pee in this bed, you're cleaning it up."

This makes him pause before letting you go.

You laugh and slip from the bed to handle your business as he groans and flops around on the mattress.

❁

The smell of hot chocolate and vanilla candles wraps around you delicately, like a blanket.

You both sit, you curled against Leon and his arm around you, as the tv plays old cartoons.

"I like making memories with you."

Your words take him by surprise. "Yeah? Well, I like making memories with you too."

You hum and lay your head on his shoulder, fiddling with the rim of your mug.

"We'll keep making memories together, right?"

Leon kisses the crown of your head before laying his head there. "We'll keep making memories for as long as we live."

❁´◡`❁❁´◡`❁❁´◡`❁❁´◡`❁❁´◡`❁❁´◡`❁❁´◡`❁

This is kinda short, sorry!

I like the idea of Leon just being a silly old man when he's not working. He just needs a break :(

I hope you liked it! Lemme know what y'all think!

-Via 💕

[caribbean1989]

It's Better Together - A Baby Lasagna fanfiction

Who: Baby Lasagna / Marko Purisic Request: maybe the reader is representing another country (doesn't have to be a singer maybe in the team) and after the behaviour of isreali's team (as many people said they treated them bad) she isn't feeling well and marko helps her and supports her. Requested by: anonymous Word count: 916 Warnings: some implied swearing and rudeness.

A/N: Thank you so much for your request. I have changed it a little bit, so it's not specifically about the Israeli team being the rude one, but it can still be read as such.

If you want me to write more Baby Lasagna fics, you can always make a request through my Ask Box. For more information on my Baby Lasagna fanfics, see this masterpost

It had always been your dream to represent your country at the Eurovision Song Contest. This year, your dream came true true when you were selected as the contestant for your country.

After months of preparations, the moment was finally there. As soon as you'd arrived in Malmö it was everything you had hoped for and more. Your fellow contestants were really nice and supportive, the organization was flawless, and so far you were really enjoying yourself. You weren't the favorite with the bookmakers, but they still tipped you for a top 10 candidate.

The schedule was demanding, though. Each day was filled to the brim with rehearsals, interviews and other press-related obligations. Some of the interviews were fun, others were dull, but today you had had an interview with a journalist who was flat-out rude and even somewhat hostile. During the interview you were able to keep your cool, but it took every ounce of your self-control to do so.

Immediately after you were done, you stalked out of the room and made straight for the contestants' lounge. That area was only accessible to the performers, and strictly off-limits to any kind of media-personnel. Since it was late in the evening and most of the other contestants had already finished their duties for the day, you expected it to be empty. And some alone-time to cool off was just what you needed.

Without even checking if someone else was in the lounge when you stepped in, you angrily slammed the door closed behind you, and loudly released an entire string of curses in your native language.

A startled gasp from further down the room made you realize that you weren't alone after all. You let your eyes roam over the dozens of sofa's and armchairs crammed into the lounge, and indeed found one, halfway down the room, occupied. It was Marko who sat there. Your little outburst had clearly startled him, and he had jumped up from his seat. He now stood looking at you a little wide-eyed.

"I'm so sorry about that." You passed a hand over your face and took a few deep breaths to calm yourself down. "I survived," he chuckled, before a frown crossed over his face. "Are you alright?" "Yeah..." You sighed. It wasn't truthful, but you didn't want to burden him with your troubles.

But Marko wasn't so easily fooled. He cocked his head slightly to the side, and gave you an intense stare for about a second. "No, you're not." He stated quite confidently. You couldn't help but laugh. Of course you had met Marko in the previous days. You liked him, and you had had a few nice chats with him, but you two didn't really know much about each other. So the confidence in his statement surprised you.

"Please, don't take this the wrong way." Marko immediately second-guessed himself. "But I think you still look... upset." He wrung his hands together, clearly uncomfortable by his own words and wondering if you were going to get angry with him now.

"You're right," you finally confessed. You weren't nearly alright yet and still way too upset by how the journalist had treated you. Yet, you were strangely relieved that Marko was here and had seen that you were still distraught.

"Maybe you should sit down." Marko quickly recollected himself. You nodded quietly, before walking over to where Marko had been sitting and throwing yourself down in the armchair opposite him. "Here." Marko handed you a bottle of water and sat down as well. You gratefully accepted the water, taking a few sips of the much needed hydration.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Marko smiled shyly. "It's just... this journalist." You shook your head. "The interview I've just had was awful. So rude and disrespectful." "Ah..." Marko understood immediately. "I know exactly who you mean. If it's any consolation, he's rude to everyone. I had to do an interview with him yesterday, and... let's just say that I was glad when it was over."

Marko's words did make you feel a little better. If someone could be rude to a gentle soul like Marko, they were just mean and heartless.

Suddenly you remembered that tomorrow you had another, even longer interview scheduled with the same journalist. "Oh, no!" You buried your face in your hands. "I totally forgot I've got to do more press with that guy tomorrow." To your surprise, Marko chuckled softly. "You and me both. Quite literally actually." "What do you mean?" You looked up at him. Marko smiled crookedly at you, giving a one-shouldered shrug. "You and I are teamed up for press tomorrow."

You blinked stupidly at him for a few seconds. You needed a moment to remember that Marko was indeed right. In your fury and frustration that fact had completely slipped your mind. "So sorry," you mumbled, "I forgot about that." Marko smiled another shy smile. "It's fine."

For a few moments there was silence between the two of you. "I'm glad we're teamed up for tomorrow." You broke the silence. "You're a good guy, and I feel really at ease with you." Marko blushed slightly red. "Me, too. And if anyone is rude to us tomorrow, I'm sure we'll be able to get each other through." "Absolutely," you nodded happily, all the anger of just now quickly draining from you.

And suddenly, tomorrow's press day didn't seem so bad anymore, because you knew Marko would be there with you.

[justallihere]

Hi there! Welcome - I'm Alli (she/her). I like concerts, books, and science. My favorite color is pink and my favorite band is Fall Out Boy. At this time I'm writing fics for The Empyrean (Fourth Wing) series, but someday in the future I might expand that list. Thanks for joining the chaos!

Most of you probably know me from AO3 by the same username. Below you can find my entire masterlist of fics as well as some frequently asked questions. If there's something you'd like to know that isn't addressed below, my ask box is always open 🫶🏻

✨ masterlist:

storm in the quiet (E)

Xaden/Violet, arranged marriage AU, > 200k words, ongoing

It took only a few minutes for Violet to figure out what purpose she served. No one said it out loud—not yet, but they’d get there—but they kept throwing out words like formalizing alliances and uniting two groups, and she understood. Violet was a sacrificial lamb, and Xaden Riorson was the wolf, and her slaughter would be their marriage.

(find sitq deleted moments here, here, here, and here)

all resistance wearing thin (E)

Imogen/Garrick, one shot set in the sitq world, 7.3k words, complete

It was a dangerous thing to be alone with Imogen Cardulo.

simmer (E)

Xaden/Violet, one shot, 4.1k words, complete

The night that Tairn began channeling to Violet, she didn’t stumble upon Xaden in the snow. She found someone else to take care of her, and when Xaden realized, he was less than amused.

violence in my veins (E)

Xaden/Violet, one shot, 4.1k words, complete

The Riders’ Quadrant had something of an obsession with piercings. The only person Violet Sorrengail knew without any was, of course, Xaden Riorson. Or so she thought.

invisible in a violet sea (E)

Xaden/Violet, one shot, 2k words, complete

“It’s just me here, love. Tell me what you need so badly, Violence.” There was something about the way he said the private nickname in this context, with his voice low and husky, that made it feel entirely different from every other time he called her that. Like it was reverent and special and it, like her, belonged only to him. “You,” she said. “I need you, Xaden.”

void of all composure (E)

Liam/Violet/Cam, one shot, 2.8k words, complete

Liam Mairi figured it couldn’t be that hard to keep Violet Sorrengail out of trouble. Unfortunately, he didn’t account for the fact that her version of trouble was Cam Tauri, and Liam was certainly going to go down with her.

somehow i still love you more (G)

Xaden/Violet, kid fic, one shot, 800 words, complete

Xaden’s favorite time was the middle of the night, when his wife slept peacefully and he got to hold his daughter and watch the snow falling.

come together, come apart (E)

Liam/Violet/Xaden, one shot, 12.4k words, complete

Following the battle at Resson, Violet felt out of control in the wake of so many lies revealed. Xaden and Liam offered her a way to take some of it back.

✨FAQs:

Do you have an update schedule?

Nope. Fanfic is a hobby for me—I have other responsibilities and a full-time job. I write because it’s fun, and in order for it to stay that way I write and post as I’m able, and sometimes I step away for a week or two to maintain my own sanity. Unless I specifically say it, I promise my fics aren’t abandoned just because it’s been a few days or even weeks without a new chapter. Please don’t ask me about updates!

Do you take requests for fics?

I do not. I write things that I love or am inspired by. Trying to conform to specific requests kind of sucks the joy out of writing for me.

Can I write or draw something inspired by/based on/in the same universe as one of your fics?

Yes. Please just let me know once you post and link back to my work in some way!

Can I bind your fics?

Yes, for personal use only. You may not commission any third party that would make a profit off binding the fic to do the work for you. You may not sell bound copies of my fics. Everything I’ve written has been done for free, as my own personal love letter from me to fandom. Keep fanfiction safe and legal. And send me pictures—I’d love to see your finished projects.

Will you ever write your own book?

I'd love to one day! I have lots of ideas floating around at all times, even though I don't talk about them much. I promise if I ever publish any original works, you'll know.

How long will storm in the quiet be?

Right now I’m estimating about 55-60 chapters—that’s just a best guess, if it changes as we get closer to the end, I’ll update this answer.

Will storm in the quiet have a sequel?

Nope.

Are you going to kill Liam?

No. I promise. I know you’re all traumatized, but please read the tags on AO3. There’s one that says “Liam lives!” and it means he lives all the way to the end and it’s not a joke 😅

When will Xaden and Violet fuck?

Read and find out. I’m not going to give you the chapter number to skip ahead past all the good stuff. Be patient.

✨ other info:

Find some of my favorite book recs here

Some great Fourth Wing fic recs here (my own faves and a lot of other good ones that I missed in the comments)

If you’re interested in what I might be currently reading, click here

[daisystwistedgarden]

𝒇𝒊𝒄𝒔 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒈𝒂𝒛𝒂 - 𝒕𝒘𝒊𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒅 𝒘𝒐𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒆𝒅𝒊𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏

✿✿ 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐝𝐮𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 & 𝐫𝐮𝐥𝐞𝐬 ✿✿

hello! i'm joining other lovely fanfic writers with @ficsforgaza to help raise money for the folks in need in palestine! i wanted to show my support in the best way i can, and this to me is a wonderful effort to bring the community together to do some good.

to participate, make a donation to a vetted fundraiser found on @ficsforgaza's page (aka, don't send me any money!) and send me a screenshot (with your personal information removed, please!) along with what you'd like to request to my ask box. please do not "double dip" aka use the same donation for several writers-- this is a fundraiser, after all! here is what a request looks like:

hello! can i sponsor your mermay fic? i donated $5 to gaza, here is the screenshot! thank you! [insert screenshot]

my pricing will be as follows:

❀ sponsor-a-WIP: $1/100 words ❀ drabbles: $2-3/100 words (elaborated below) ❀ no money to contribute, but you want to support the cause? that's okay. sign a vetted petition from the @ficsforgaza page and send proof, and i'll add a sentence to a WIP of your choosing.

if you have any questions, feel free to take a look here on @ficsforgaza's page or reach out to me. be patient, i will work on these fics at a good pace for me. thank you so much for helping me raise money for a good cause :D

✿✿ 𝐖𝐈𝐏𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐩𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐨𝐫 ✿✿

❀ the high school years

before night raven college, each student had their own lives and experiences in high school. what did those years look like? how did they affect each student at the arcane academy now?

headcanon paragraphs for each student. college!au. estimated length = unknown. characters completed: none. wc: 0. current sponsors: none.

❀ mermay: azul, jade, & floyd

you're a researcher and rehabilitation expert at an injured merfolk sanctuary near the coast in a small city. one day upon arriving to work, you're greeted with news of a new arrival. he's a bit... odd, it seems, but you're determined to coax him from the depths of his tank and help him recover from the injuries that landed him here in the first place.

small fics for each character. x reader. nonhuman!au (aka no school, no transformation potions). estimated length = unknown. characters completed: none. wc: 449. current sponsors: two! sponsored word count: 449/1000.

❀ summer camp collab

a super secret collab with two other amazing writers! support this fic if you want to sponsor a fun project i'm keeping under wraps for now...

fics for each character (limited cast). college!au. estimated length = unknown. characters completed: none. wc: 0. current sponsors: none.

❀ escape room hcs

in a convoluted set of circumstances, the members of night raven college are paired up together in completely random groups for an escape room bonding exercise. how does this go? who thrives, and who flounders? which groups make it out alive?

character groups made up of main cast of 24 (22 main students + yuu and grim). six groups of four chosen at complete random by a spinner wheel. college!au. estimated length = unknown. groups completed: none. wc: 0. current sponsors: none.

❀ tattoo/piercer!au

you're looking to start your apprenticeship in tattooing and piercing at a small shop on sage island. there, you study under an employee at the shop meant to take you under his wing. who is he? does your apprenticeship land you your dream job (and relationship), or is it a disaster from the moment you lock eyes?

fic, x reader. limited characters. post-college!au, tattoo/piercer!au. estimated length = unknown. characters completed: none. wc: 0. current sponsors: none.

❀ yandere!fem!vil x reader

vil never expected you'd ever break up. the split was blinding, leaving her in a stupor as she stumbled through coveted on-screen roles and modeling gigs for the most prestigious publications in twisted wonderland. in her mind, you're still hers. it's only when she finds out that you've found another lover that her world-- and mind-- officially crumbles. it's time she takes matters into her own hands.

fic, x reader. trigger warnings: murder, stalking, general yandere behavior. post-nrc!au. estimated length = unknown. characters completed: none. wc: 0. current sponsors: none.

✿✿ 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐬 ✿✿

i'll be accepting drabble requests for the main cast. i write in a collge!au unless otherwise stated, elaborated further on my page here. drabbles are estimated to be ~500 words. they can be sfw/nsfw, tropes, fluff, etc. please specify what you'd like to see in this drabble, whether you only have a character in mind or a very specific scenario! (note: anon MUST be off for you to request nsfw, and you must be 18+).

since requests require a bit more work, i'll be pricing them at $2 per 100 words for sfw drabbles and $3 per 100 words for nsfw drabbles.

do you want to support gaza and request fics for obey me! or obey me! nightbringer? check out my other blog here

[talk-danmei-to-me]

♡ Welcome to the #Danmei Fanfic Nightclub! ♡

A place where rather than going to the club, we bring the club to us and write fanfic. Every Friday.

At the Danmei Fanfic Nightclub, writers are treated like DJs, you can go into their ask box, request a fic based upon their menu and get a drabble in return. In the spirit of a Friday free for all, you can drop an ask at any time.

Please be aware some writers may take longer to respond than others and that timezones may affect how quickly your prompt is filled. Some of us love a walk of shame fanfic 😉

Writer's menus below the cut. Happy reading!

@talk-danmei-to-me

Ships: Tgcf, Ranwan, Wangxian, Ximang

Fic Requests: Smut, AUs, Angst

Will not write: I'll write pretty much anything apart from female versions of characters and any kind of being domestic with babies within omegaverse. Omegaverse itself is fine though. I like the world building.

Ask me about: Kingmaker, Body in the Abyss, Heart in Paradise, The Space Between

@sunbunnyyy

Ships: wangxian, nieyao, nielan, 3zun, zhuiling

fic requests: anything really!

will not write: character bashing (?) classical mpreg. i don’t really have hard limits at this point that might change later.

@sleepyssnail

Ships: Scum Villain Self Saving System

Fic Requests: AUs, hurt/comfort, fluff, humor, canon divergence, inquire for more!

Will not write: - smut (may change in the future, but not right now), kinks, non con, or dehumanization

@isolapyrena

Ships: I'll have a go at any 2ha, Yuwu, SVSSS or TGCF but my favourite characters for having their own new stories are Mei Hanxue, Liu Qingge and Feng Xin and I have no problem in solving romantic lost causes with threesomes.

Fic Requests: anything within reason. I like fix its best.

Will not write: - Anything tasteless. Not intentionally anyway.

@yiling-laozu-is-loml

Fic Requests: Humour, banter, AUs, Angst, Major Character Death/last moments/mourning, fluff, parent-child relationship (not necessarily parent...like wwx and juniors type), idiots in love, canon compliant (no cql sorry, only novel/donghua canon)

Ships: I'll happily write: Wangxian, Mingxian, Xixian, Hanxian (wrh/wwx), Sangxian, Songxiao, Xisang (lxc/nhs)

Can write: platonic dynamics like junior trio/quartet, Wen siblings + Wei Wuxian, Nie Huaisang and Wei Wuxian, Jin Guangyao and Wei Wuxian, etc, feel free to ask and maybe I CAN write them. Other than that, any bottomxian m/m ships are those I am more inclined to write compared to others (romantic) including Chengxian

Won't write: f/m ships like romantic Wen Qing/Wei Wuxian, Mianmian/Wei Wuxian, etc, polyamorous couples, Wei Wuxian/cql original character

Will not write: smut (unless i feel confident enough and in that case, switchxian or topxian), infidelity, animal death, miscarriage/child death, polyamory, F/M...i think thats it. Oh and anything with cql elements or jiang clan/jiang cheng positive (unless its chengxian)

@etherealiity

Ships: Ranwan, Bingqiu, Bingjiu, Jiuyuan, Tianjiu, Moshang, Wangxian, xiyao, 3zun, xuexiao, xueyao, sangcheng, cezhou, TYK, wenzhou

Fic Requests: Canonverse, AUs, smut, angst, hurt/comfort, comedy, horror

Will not write: - anything like bathroom kinks (watersports, scat play, etc.) or mpreg

Ask me about: trembling before the machinery of other skeletons

@scholomancefan

Pairings: Scum Villain Self Saving System

Fic Requests: comedy, angst, smut

Will not write: fluff unless it's kidfic

@fiftysevenacademics

Ships: Wangxian

Tropes: Fluff, Angst, Crack

Will not write: Smut, High School AUs

@marloviandevil

Ships: HuaXuan, HeHuaLian, PeiFengQing, and any variation of the aforementioned ships involving either all of them or just two of them. No seriously.

Fic Requests: Smut, overall silliness, crack, fluff, fix-it, idiots in love, uncanny ghost kings, ABO. kinks (bondage, praise, worship, waxplay)

Will not write: Horror, whump, hurt without comfort, character death.

Ask me about: Feel free to ask me about the pool noodle ships, if you're brave enough.

[emptystove]

Sparrow - Ch 7

One Piece Fanfic (Drama/Romance/Suspense)

Pairings: E. Kid x Reader, Sabo x Reader, Lucci x Reader (one sided)

Rating: EXPLICIT, 18+ ONLY

Chapter Summary: You are kind of a mess trying to understand these familiar feelings. It's a good thing you have some new friends around to help you out~

CW: trauma, spicy situations

Links to AO3, Wattpad -- Fanfic Master List

Chapter 7: Sensory Memory

Cipher Pol Headquarters, NWC Central District

3 Years and 4 months ago

Lucci crossed one leg over the other as he scanned the room. 

Spandine had called the heads of each Cipher Pol unit to appear in person for a briefing. These types of gatherings were only held when he wanted all units to be aware of the information and when the information was highly sensitive, so much so that they didn't want to risk it being intercepted. 

"Suspect is female. From the state we found the bodies in, she is believed to be skilled in the use of firearms and edged weapons," the suit droned on as Lucci scanned the document detailing the next rising threat under discussion. The whole thing felt so beneath him. He was ready to delegate it to one of the other CP units when the next piece of information gave him pause. 

"There was a witness to the last incident. The bartender couldn't give us much, but he remembered someone fitting the suspect's description asking about some of the gangs who 'allegedly' participate in human trafficking. He apparently hid in a supply closet during the event. He did not see anything of use, but he claims to have heard her use the name Aisa."

Lucci quickly understood why this was a priority case. The person targeting these gangs started with street level thugs but was moving on to higher members of organized crime. They were following a trail of criminals that would inevitably lead to an elite yet elusive group of government officials and politicians who indulged in many illegal activities, one of which being the keeping of slaves. 

"I've seen a woman fitting this description, and I distinctly remember her mentioning that name."

The older man in a white lab coat standing beside Spandine looked up excited at Lucci's statement.

"I was hoping one of you might," his supervisor smirked. "Anyone else know of a potential lead on the suspect?"

The other agents stayed silent.

He nodded to the older man before addressing the room again. "In that case, the rest of you are dismissed."

Lucci remained seated as the remaining CP unit leaders left the room. Before the door closed, two more employees with the same white coats entered, rolling a cart filled with what looked like medical and mechanical equipment.

"Was it recent? Do you remember it well?" the older man had moved to take the seat next to him.

Lucci sent a questioning look to his superior and the man responded with stern indifference. "Lucci, this is Dr. Vegapunk. You are to answer his questions honestly and adhere to any procedures or testing he requests of you. Do you understand?"

"Yes, sir," Lucci replied coldly before turning to address the doctor. "It was fairly recent, within the last few months. I remember it well."

"Excellent! Excellent!" The doctor excitedly ushered over what were clearly his own subordinates and pulled several items from the cart.

He pulled out a black box, the size a bit bulkier and wider than that of a laptop, and flipped it open. Inside, he used a small keyboard to start inputting something Lucci didn't catch. The other two extended four wires from the small machine. They attached each wire to Lucci's head at various points using what they claimed were electrode pads. 

"Now, this won't hurt a bit, but you may feel foggy for a few minutes after. We'll be monitoring your vitals, so there's really nothing to worry about. It's definitely probably perfectly safe," Dr. Vegapunk instructed happily.

"I'm not worried. Just get whatever this is over with so I can continue my scheduled duties," Lucci's scowl was audible with every word.

"Right... Well, let's get into it then." He pressed a large button on the machine. A red light began blinking on the side, and a faint whirring sound could be heard. "We'll start with something simple. I want you to think about everything that happened from the beginning of the briefing to now."

Lucci didn't let his opinion of the annoyingly upbeat doctor deter him. No matter how pointless this exercise seemed, he would always follow orders.

As he began thinking back to the beginning of the briefing, he felt his eyelids getting heavy. 

The red light stopped blinking and remained on. 

Lucci's Private Residence, NWC East District 

Lucci woke up gasping for breath. 

He slowly sat up in bed, allowing the sheet to fall to his waist as he let out a long exhale. That was one he didn't dream of very often. 

His thoughts were muddled as he lazily stood. He was in nothing but a pair of silk boxers, but he didn't bother to even grab a shirt as he made his way out of his room. His next actions had become a standard morning routine, though it wasn't his intention. 

First, he checked his messages. There were no leads on your whereabouts from Cipher Pol, and there was nothing from Trafalgar. 

How disappointing. 

He then checked each room in the house. Your bedroom, the basement, the dining room, the kitchen, and lastly the den. He sighed softly as he confirmed what he already knew. He was awake. This was all real. And you were not there. 

Finally, he made his way to his home office, pressing a button under his desk to reveal a hidden safe in the wall. He input the code and opened the metal door. He brushed aside the other items and pulled out a black metal box labeled "EMR."

----------

Kid's Body Shop, NWC South District

You were restless.

It was a week after your visit with Law, and the adrenaline and excitement that came with your escape and prospects moving forward were starting to dull. 

Kid was kind enough to give you his room, but you were trapped there each day until the shop closed, unwilling to risk any clients or passersby recognizing you. At least he let you sleep in the bed. He insisted on taking the couch even though you pointed out he was starting to rub his stiff neck on a fairly consistent basis because of it. More than anything though, you appreciated that he seemed not to notice the times that you woke up in the middle of the night startled and wheezing. 

Still, you were grateful. His was twice the size of Killer's room with an en suite to match. You fell into a sort of routine, though you didn't intend to. Each morning, Killer would bring you something different for breakfast along with that day's newspaper. You would then get in a lengthy workout before showering and changing into the least baggy set of clothing they had offered you. The rest of the time you spent waiting for closing proved more difficult for you. You would have loved to keep yourself from overthinking everything, and you did your best to keep busy. Heat gifted you a notebook, which was something, and Wire promised to drop off some books by the end of the week. By now, you were struggling to find things to keep your mind busy. Hell, you even deep cleaned the bathroom. You were questioning whether Kid would be annoyed if you reorganized his closet when you felt something slip out of your pocket. 

You reached for the item and held it carefully between your fingers.

A heaviness filled your chest as your looked down at the picture Sabo gave you. You wanted to see him. You wanted to talk to him, ask him questions, learn things from him. You whined grumpily when the rational side of your brain reminded you that until you meet with Law's friend, it would be too risky. He was one of the more recognizable members of the RA, and anyone noticing a connection between them and Kid's group could put unnecessary attention on them.

You sighed dramatically and sat by the window in Kid's room, looking out at all of the carefree people walking through the streets. As long as Lucci was looking for you, you would never really be free. You wanted your memories back, but you also wanted your freedom. Freedom to live your life and freedom from the man who took it from you.

You wanted to ignore his obsession at the time or write it off as being overprotective after your amnesia, but you couldn't deny it. You knew how he looked at you when he thought you weren't paying attention or how his eyes would roam your body after he had a few drinks. Even looking back at it now, you wanted to believe his tight hold on you was only because he was deceiving you. But the things he said to you before he kissed you the night you ran and the way he begged you rather than killing you at the train station just confirmed what you didn't want to be true.

Even if CP9 stopped looking for you, Lucci wouldn't. And anyone who helped you stay away from him wasn't safe from his wrath. If you were honest with yourself, you weren't sure if you held onto that thought because it was true or because it was a justification for the one thing you wanted almost as much as getting your memories back. 

You wanted to kill him.

As you continued to gaze out the window, certain things started to take your attention. 

A digital billboard in the distance switched to an advertisement for athleticwear, and you found that you couldn't take your eyes off of it. The color was just so damn blue. Your head started to get a bit fuzzy, and you weren't sure what you were feeling. Shortly after, it faded into a different advertisement and your gaze fell back to the street below. You could faintly hear high pitched laughter as your eyes landed on the source. 

You saw a little girl with short brown hair. Instantly, your heart twisted as you were overtaken with fear and grief.

She was facing the other direction, but you could tell she wasn't laughing anymore. She had just been surrounded by a group of similar aged kids, but now she was alone. You felt your heart start beating faster and you parted your lips. 

Was she crying?

You couldn't pull your eyes away. She was looking around franticly for someone. You felt the urge to call out to her, but you also felt like you couldn't breathe. 

You were so lost in the feeling that you didn't notice someone behind you calling out to you until you heard the one word that cut through your trance. 

"Sparrow."

----------

When you finally turned to face him, the look on your face made him pause.

Kid assumed you were so enthralled with your view out the window because you caught a glimpse of what was about to arrive for you. When you finally took notice of him, you weren't excited or even uplifted in the least. No, you looked confused and scared. The way you looked down at yourself, your eyes traveling over your one hand on the glass of the window and the other on your heart, made it look like you didn't realize what you had been doing. Fuck, was that a tear rolling down your cheek?

He stormed toward you in an instant, yanking you away from the window and looking out at the street below. Nothing within view caught his eye. No criminals or police were anywhere in sight, no one suspicious, no one even loitering nearby. No out of place vehicles parked on the street, and by the look of the few pedestrians casually walking about, nothing of significance had happened. 

He swiftly shut the blinds with a yank of the cord before pulling out his phone. No missed calls, and flipping through his messages again confirmed everything was on schedule. 

"What happened? What were you looking at?" Kid asked as he turned back to you.

"Uh...," you faltered a reply. 

At least you seemed to know he was there this time. 

He was frustrated with your slow response, but he forced himself to wait for you to gather your words. You had moved away from the window, arbitrarily standing in the middle of the room. Your brows remained furrowed as your eyes flit between your hands and some random spot on the carpet. You shook your head briefly and swiped the wetness from your face. "It was just some little girl. I- I don't really know what I was looking at... just felt familiar I guess," your words trailed off at the end, and Kid felt his frown deepen.

He shot Killer a quick text to check the perimeter just in case. 

When he glanced back at you again, you were still looking away from him. You look smaller in a way, afraid and unsure of yourself. You probably needed someone to talk you through whatever emotional shit was knocking around in your fucked up brain. He ought to just text Killer to come up and set you straight while Kid did the sweep himself, but he pocketed his phone instead. 

Kid would normally be the last person to try to deal with this type of thing, but seeing you like that was pissing him off. 

He still had a bit before he showed up, and Kid didn't feel like waiting until after you were done to see you stare him down again. It couldn't be that hard to bring you back to your senses, right?

He walked up to you with appraising eyes. As he moved closer, you kept your gaze low, irritating him further. He opened his mouth to speak but found he had no idea what to say. He gaped at you in silence, his own sudden awkwardness in the situation angering him further until he did the only he knew to do and shoved your shoulder with what might have been more force than necessary. 

You stumbled a few steps back upon the impact, catching yourself before you fell into anything. Your eyes shot up to the redhead, widening in surprise before shifting to a more annoyed expression. 

"What the hell was that for?" You snapped. 

"Quick acting weird."

"I'm not," you denied. 

Kid blew a raspberry into the air at your obviously false claim. "Cryin' over seeing a random kid outside is normal for you?"

"Fuck you. I wasn't crying. My eyes were watering from being stuck in your musty room all day."

"You cleaned this room about every damn day since you got here, so if it's musty, it's your fault." Kid bit his cheek as he tried to suppress a smug grin. You were staring him down hard, no longer meek or afraid. 

That was easier than he thought it would be.

"Hey, I can clean up dust and grime, but there isn't much I can do about the mountain of hair products you spray into the air every morning," you replied coolly.

"Oi! That's not- Quit blaming me for your own shit, woman." Kid growled, suppressing a chuckle when he noticed you pursing your lips to hide your cheeky fucking grin. A cheeky fucking grin that seemed to spread after he stayed quiet too long without hitting you with a comeback. 

Exhaling loudly, Kid changed the subject, satisfied that he got what he wanted but not quite ready to leave you yet, "Anyway, you been asking about a way to help us out for letting you crash. Well, we got something coming up, and we're short a few guys." 

It was almost the truth. It was less about needing more guys and more about keeping a close eye on you. He doubted you'd be half as excited once you found out how little you would really be involved. 

"I can do that," you perked up significantly at the suggestion. "Yeah, you need guys. I can be your guy, -er whatever." You nodded and cracked your knuckles. Kid watched the little remaining unease melt off your features at the thought of anything potentially dangerous or exciting, the exact opposite of how any sane person should react. 

Damn, you were kinda cute when you were getting yourself all fired up. 

"Got something else I think you'll like even more than that. Not sure you deserve it after being an ungrateful brat," Kid teased.

"You literally tried to shove me on the ground," you dismissed quickly. "What is it?" 

"Your friend's coming by to see ya."

"Heat or Wire? It isn't even movie night," you mused happily.

"Heat and Wire are my friends," he corrected.

"Yeah, ok," you chuckled sarcastically. "Who is it then?"

"If you ain't figured it out yet, you're more brain damaged than I thought. You've got him for two hours. Don't make me regret it."

----------

You could have cried when Sabo handed you a suitcase filled with clothes and shoes in your own size. As thoughtful as that was, having this time alone with Sabo was a much better gift. You agreed to limit your contact with the RA until the heat died down a little. The only reason he was here now was because he already had a scheduled exchange with Kid. You didn't bother asking what they were buying from him or why. Frankly, you couldn't care less. 

Your plans were stalled on getting back your memories until Law's friend was ready to meet. Although you would have preferred remembering your past on your own, you were happy to hear his own memories of your past. 

"So you walked into the conference room wearing an exact replica of Inazuma's outfit - the custom coat, the sunglasses, everything. He just rolled his eyes and tried to keep everyone focused. When Koala walked in a few minutes later to drop off some documents to Dragon, wearing another exact copy of his outfit and acting like nothing was strange about it, he still somehow kept it together. But not one person in the room could keep a straight face when Hack and Karasu walked in, completely straight faced, wearing the same exact getup," Sabo laughed.

"Sounds like they all have an excellent sense of humor," you giggled with him. 

"Yeah, some of us more than others. Those two are definitely the opposite of pranksters. You never did tell me how you got them to agree to it," he sighed as the last of his chuckling died out. 

"Eh, it probably had more to do with them than me. Any attempts at fun at Cipher Pol were swiftly stamped out," you replied casually. 

"What was it like, working as an agent for them?" He asked almost hesitantly. 

You tilted your head, frowning slightly at a spot on the wall. "I don't know. It's weird to think about how I felt then when I know the truth now. Back then, I thought it was the life I chose, but even then I knew it sucked." You gave a half-hearted chuckle, "Most of the other agents wouldn't even give me the time of day outside of missions or training. I never understood why, though I guess at the time, I figured it was because of Lucci. Seems pretty obvious now that it was because I was really just a brainwashed enemy to them."

You ignored the guilty yet concerned look Sabo was giving you as you tried to turn the conversation a bit in another direction. 

"Oh, right. I almost forgot." You walked to the bed and opened the top drawer to the bedside table. You made your way back to Sabo and perched yourself on the armrest of the opposite end of the couch as you handed him a small notebook. "I thought this was the least I could do for you rescuing me or whatever."

Sabo's brows raised slightly as he thumbed through the pages upon pages of information. You tried to write down what you knew, but once you began, you realized that they withheld a lot from you. Still, there were some roughly hand-drawn maps of the levels within headquarters, notes on the types of missions you were privy to, and finally what you knew about the individual members of CP9. 

"Why would they ignore you because of Lucci?" He was trying his best to seem casual, but you could tell he was listening intently for your answer.

"I guess you could say he kept me on a pretty short leash," you began. Sabo watched you patiently, silently urging you to continue. There wasn't really a point in hiding the truth, but it still made you uncomfortable to talk about for some reason. "He was my sensei, in charge of my rehabilitation after I woke up. He kept me on a strict schedule, slept in the room next to mine, trained me everyday. At first, I would only see him once a day. By the end, leaving me alone in my room for a few hours was considered a gift. He would flip if I got banged up after training with another agent." You rolled your eyes and sighed. "He was always watching me. I woke up everyday with him standing in my room, and the way he looked at me when he would drink... The day you saw me on that train was the first time I had ever been outside headquarters without him with me. And that night, he tried to.. Well, he was drinking then too, and..." 

You were starting to get frustrated with yourself now. Why was it so difficult to say this out loud? It's not like you were the one who did anything wrong. It's not like you had anything to be embarrassed about. You didn't want to think about Lucci or about why something as seemingly small as an unwanted kiss was so upsetting to you. What you wanted to do was beat his face in until he had to eat through a straw. The thought gave you enough courage to steel your nerves and force out the words. 

"He trapped me against a wall, whispered bird facts to me, told me I belonged to him, and kissed me," the words left you all in the same breath. "That's when I ran," you added in a much softer voice.

When your eyes moved back to Sabo, his mouth was drawn out in a thin line. His head hung down slightly, allowing his bangs to cover his eyes. It was tough to read his expression, but you could tell that his jaw clenched as much as his fists by his sides. 

It probably should have made you happy, right? To have someone care enough about you to be upset by how you were treated, but you found it hard to keep your eyes on him. Mixed in with his anger was a clearly painful layer of guilt that you found difficult to bare witness to. 

You turned where you sat on the armrest of the couch so your back was to Sabo, then let yourself fall onto your back, bouncing lightly on the cushions. Your eyes wandered over the ceiling, letting him have whatever moment he needed to while your thoughts drifted elsewhere.

After a few minutes, you finally broke the silence. 

"What were... we... to each other?" You asked carefully as you peeked at him from behind a few strands of your hair. 

You didn't even notice just how tensed he was until his shoulders visibly loosened. He lifted his head and let out a deep breath. A small smile graced his face, and you had to push down the fluttering in your stomach when you noticed how handsome he was when he let himself relax. "It was... complicated," he began slowly. His gaze moved aimlessly around the floor until he finally glanced down to gage your reaction.

Ok, you were kind of hoping for more there. 

You wanted to push him, but you could tell he was just trying to find the right words, so despite your instincts, you kept your mouth shut and waited for him to continue.

"We were...," he swallowed hard. "The way I feel about you...," he trailed off again, furrowing his brows in quiet frustration. He finally shook his head and met you head on with a hard gaze. "Living the kind of life we did, we agreed it would be a bad idea to try to carry on with anything serious."

"Oh," was all you could manage to reply. So, there was something but you both stopped it before it could go too far. That made sense. 

"What made you ask that?" A warm hand lightly brushed a few stray hairs from your face as you resist the urge to lean into his touch.

"Uh," you feigned a nonchalant tone as you reply. "I guess I just get these familiar feelings when I look at you."

Sabo let out of breath and even without speaking you could hear his smile. His fingers moved through your hair again, then fell to trace lightly against your cheek, his touch prompting a nervous fluttering in your stomach. 

You tilted your head slightly to look up and him, and when your eyes connected, something shifted.

All of the sudden, you were starting to feel fuzzy. 

Your muscles relaxed, and you felt your hand glide against his as he caressed your face.

Yes, that felt right. That felt familiar.

You held his gaze as you started to sit up, all the while inching closer to where he was seated. You couldn't look away from him if you wanted to. Those blue orbs connected with yours and you could feel yourself being pulled further into him. Closer to him. A tiny voice in the back of your mind was telling you not to let go.

"Is this..." you asked, not fully understanding your own question but also desperate to hear the answer. 

"Ok? yeah," Sabo offered a breathy reply. 

That wasn't quite right. You had no idea what you expected to hear, but you knew he was supposed to say something different. 

This is your chance. The tiny voice grew a bit louder. 

And then your body was moving on it's own. You shifted toward him, never leaving his eyes as you slowly climbed into his lap. You heard a muffled sound. He was telling you something but you couldn't quite hear him. It almost sounded like he was underwater. He was right in front of you, but he felt so far away. Everything did.

His hands found your hips as you reached out to him. His eyes were shining that brilliant blue and it was all you could see.

You felt your hands move to cup his cheeks, and you heard that tiny voice again telling you that this was your chance, only this time with unsettling urgency. But it was difficult to read into what that might mean when the man between your thighs was so beautiful. 

You hummed as you noted the smooth, soft skin in your left hand while tracing the rougher, darkened skin around his scar under your right.

"Is this real... or is this just a..." you heard yourself whisper.

"This is real," a low voice replied, and Sabo smiled softly before giving your hips a reassuring squeeze.

You smiled. 

Yes, that felt right. That's what he was supposed to say.

You leaned forward slowly, only willing to close your eyes as your lips pressed softly into his. This is real, that little voice in your head emphasized, although you still weren't sure why that was so important to you right now. 

It should have surprised you, when you finally pulled back and opened your eyes. Somewhere deep down, you knew this. But your brain was so cloudy now. Your fingers grazed the sides of his face, smooth olive skin under each one of your fingertips. 

This is what you needed.

Your hands fell gently onto his shoulders as you took in the sight of him, the blue you so blindly gravitated towards fading into a greyish black. 

This is what he wanted.

You leaned back in more quickly this time, capturing his lips with renewed fervor and working hard not to smile against him as you heard him let out a small whine. 

This is real.

You kissed him mercilessly, ignoring the scruff of his facial hair that tickled your chin as you tugged at his wavy black hair. His hands started to roam over you as he pulled you flush against his chest. You let your hips shift against him as you felt him growing harder beneath you. 

You refused to let your mind wander to all of the vile, unforgivable things he did to you. That didn't matter right now. The only thing that mattered now was moving forward, getting out of the cycle you were trapped in. 

You moaned into his lips as you continued grinding. You were ashamed of how wet you were getting from pushing your clit against this monster's clothed cock. You began to undo his belt buckle, but he moved a hand to stop you.

You pouted and heard him chuckle softly into your ear. 

That wasn't what was supposed to happen. 

He leaned his head onto your neck while he tried to collect himself, and you shifted so his face was on your left side. You could hear someone speaking again, but everything still sounded so foggy. You ignored the far away voice, and took a few light nips under his ear. You allowed his hands tightening around you to still the movement of your hips, instead focusing on weaving your left hand through his hair and reaching out as far as you could to the side with your right.

Just a few seconds more and you were sure you could reach it...

The next thing you knew, you were on the floor, looking up at a baffled and disheveled Sabo. He was standing over you panting, belt half-way undone, with a look of confusion and worry on his face that only increased as you brought a hand up to candle your pounding head. 

…What the FUCK just happened!?

He opened his mouth to speak but was cut short by a swift knock and opening of the bedroom door.

----------

No one that knew him would characterize Killer as someone who was easily surprised. Yet somehow, you had been leaving him in such a state on a fairly regular basis since you arrived.  

The blond stopped dead in his tracks upon entering. His eyes darted from you to Sabo and back before shutting the door tightly behind him.

"It's not what it looks like," Sabo began.

Killer crossed his arms over his chest and gave you a long, penetrating look. He watched your expression morph from surprised and confused, to pained and confused, then finally to embarrassed and annoyed. 

"I'm fine. Thanks for dropping that stuff off, Sabo," you finally reassured both men as you hopped up from the floor, a newfound confident and aloof mask covering your features. "He's right. It isn't what it looked like. Just a little misunderstanding. Anyway, I'm gonna go take a shower for totally unrelated reasons."

Sabo called your name pleadingly as you moved toward the bathroom. "Are you sure you're ok?"

"I'm perfectly fine," you assured him again, subtly glancing toward Killer before facing Sabo again. "Can we talk about this later?"

Killer didn't like that. 

They promised to keep you hidden and keep you safe. Ever since Kid filled him in on what you found out from Law, he had been watching you closely. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary until this very moment. You were not fine, and it was painfully obvious. What bothered him more though is that you were trying to hide it from him.

Once you finally left the room, Killer cleared his throat to get Sabo's attention. 

"You gonna tell me what happened?" Killer asked.

"I think it's pretty obvious," Sabo sighed in frustration.

"It really isn't."

"We were... reconnecting I guess, but she was pushing too far. I asked her to stop, and then she..." Sabo swallowed looking down at the floor where she had been when Killer walked in, hesitating slightly before finishing his thought. "She kind of threw herself onto the floor."

It made sense. Well, the part about reconnecting did anyway. Anyone with eyes could tell by the way Sabo looked at you that there had been something between you two. You throwing yourself off of the couch seemingly without reason was less believable, though it was exactly how he had found you. 

Killer knew he was holding something back, but the way the gears seemed to be turning in Sabo's head made him fairly certain that it wasn't out of ill intent. It seemed like Sabo himself wasn't sure what to make of it all. 

"You know, you're lucky it was me coming to get you and not Kid. He probably would have killed you before you could explain what happened."

Sabo furrowed his brows. "I didn't hurt her. I would never hurt her."

"I know," Killer said honestly, moving a bit closer. "That's why I didn't kill you."

Sabo gave Killer a hard look, then tilted his head in amused intrigue.

"I'm the one who asked you to take her in, you've only known her a week, and already you would actually kill me if you thought I hurt her?" he mused.

Killer shrugged, "Yep."

Sabo hummed shortly. "The other two that know about her, Heat and Wire, would they do the same?"

"In a heartbeat."

Sabo seemed to think on Killer's words for a few moments before a genuine smile stretched across his cheeks. "I'm glad."

Killer wasn't sure why that would be surprising. You were under their protection, and they took that seriously. If anyone hurt you while you were with them, retaliation was inevitable. They would do that for anyone in your position. That should have been obvious. Sure, they hadn't actually harbored anyone outside of people they were already close with in the past. And sure, they also rearranged a few appointments to make sure all four of them could be at the next movie night with you. Maybe he even went out of his way to buy puff pastry to cook with after you mentioned it. But nothing about that was unusual, right? 

"I should get going," Sabo sighed. It was the agreed upon time he planned to leave, and waiting would only increase his chances of being spotted there. 

"Right, better fix that first though," Killer stated while motioned to the other man's open belt.

Sabo cursed under his breath as he quickly fumbled to make himself presentable.

"Is that what you were doing on the train?" Killer deadpanned.

"I didn't do anything on the train!" Sabo whisper-shouted, mumbling curses again as Killer led him out of the room. "And stop asking my subordinates about it. I don't even know how you got Koala's number, but quit texting her."

Killer's lips pulled up into a slight smile. He would figure it out eventually. 

----------

Author's Note:

Killer: *sharpens his blades grumpily in the corner.* Author: Killer, you can't be serious. You had your own POV section in this one! Killer: If I'm so important, why haven't you added me to the relationship tags yet? Author: *sinks lower behind computer screen* Sabo: He's not the only one upset, author. Author: Wha- You got your own spicy scene with her though! Sabo: *pulls out a metal pipe.* My own scene? Author: Uhh, well… Sabo: We waited months for this chapter, and you let that overgrown house cat take over half way through? Kid: *adjusts his metal arm menacingly* I'm burning that couch to ash. Author: Ok, wait wait wait. You guys just need to trust me. It's all part of the plan! Lucci: I think it's the best thing you've ever written. Killer/Sabo/Kid: Shut up!

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[1800-fight-me]

Expressed Devotion

Aemond Targaryen x Petite!Female!Reader

A Practice Makes Perfect Fic - This can be read as a stand alone fic or part of the series!

Rating: Mature- This is still not for minors!

Warnings: Allusions to sex but other than that it's just fluff!

Word Count: About 1.2k

Synopsis: On the year anniversary of your marriage to Aemond, you try to spoil and surprise him but he manages to beat you to the punch.

Author’s Note: Happy late valentine's day!! I hope this syrupy sweet romantic little ficlet makes up for me posting it late! This is a combination of three requests I've gotten, sorry it is not exactly the same as the requests but hopefully y'all like it! Unfortunately I'll be deleting the other valentine's requests as I won't be able to fulfill them.

Important announcement!! I am no longer using a taglist! Instead if you would like to be notified when I post new fics follow my side blog @jo-writes-fanfic and turn your post notifications on!

Aemond Masterlist

You were jittery with excitement. It was the anniversary of your marriage to Aemond and you felt you had acquired the perfect gift for him. Well, two gifts really. One for him and another for him to see you wear.

You were certain he would appreciate it. You were determined to impress upon him your utter love and devotion for him this evening, no matter what it took.

A bit of heat licked up your spine as you pictured yourself on your knees before him.

No, you would think about that later.

You needed to focus on the task at hand.

You made your way back to the Red Keep, then quickly to your shared chambers.

The gift was in a small box and you planned to wrap a ribbon around it to make it complete. The other you planned to wrap yourself in.

You burst through the doors of your room and stopped short.

Your eyes widened and you gasped softly.

Aemond smirked at you, a prideful and self satisfied smile he had clearly earned.

Your eyes darted about the room as hundreds of red and black roses, the color of his house, covered nearly every surface.

Vases nearly overflowed with the vibrant flowers and petals covered the bed.

“Oh, Aemond,” you said breathily as you tried to take in the scene before you.

Your handsome husband even held more flowers in his hands.

“It is the anniversary of the best day of my life, my sweet little wife, did you know that?” he asked you with so much love in his gaze you couldn’t help the tears that filled your eyes.

You shut the doors behind you, set the gifts down on the nearby table, and stepped closer to him.

“I did know that, dear husband, I had a plan to spoil you but it appears you have bested me in the element of surprise.”

He handed you the roses, and you crushed them between your body and his as you threw yourself against him and pulled him down enough that you could reach him and pressed your lips against his.

He chuckled into the kiss and you nipped at his bottom lip.

He pulled the flowers from you and dropped them on the side table as he tugged you backwards towards the bed.

He sat on the edge and situated you on top of his lap.

“I love you, little wife, my heart, as black and shriveled as it is, belongs to you completely,” he said as he kissed you heatedly.

His lips moved against yours and at the press of his tongue into your mouth your mind began to feel fuzzy.

“Hm,” he hummed happily as he tasted you, devoured you, attempted to make you his in the way he had just confessed you had secured his affections.

But not fuzzy enough to make you forget.

“Wait!” you said suddenly.

He pulled back and raised his eyebrow at you.

“I got you two gifts,” you said as you attempted to catch your breath.

“You are the only gift I need,” he murmured and pressed a kiss to your jaw before he trailed his lips down the side of your neck to the hollow of your throat.

“Aemond!” you protested weakly.

He huffed.

“Alright, little wife, if it cannot wait,” he helped you stand.

You grinned.

“Wait there,” you said as you strode to where you had placed the gifts, snatched them up, and strode into the adjoining sitting room and shut the door behind you.

You heard him sigh in exasperation as you did so.

You smirked. He would soon have no qualms about having to wait.

You slipped out of your dress and underclothes and then carefully slipped on the black lace lingerie that barely covered anything, but complimented your body beautifully and led the eye right to your most enticing curves.

You looked at yourself in the mirror and smiled in satisfaction.

At the sound of the door opening once again, Aemond sat up from where he had been laying on the bed and twiddling his thumbs in impatience.

“Good gods,” he breathed out as he saw you.

You grinned.

“I am far too wicked for the gods to have blessed me with such a perfect woman,” he said.

You walked closer to him and allowed him to place his large hands on your waist.

“Enough talk of the gods, perhaps you should instead focus on worshiping your wife,” you said seductively as you grazed your lips against his.

“Fuck, yes,” he agreed emphatically as he quickly stood and switched your positions so you were the one who now laid on the bed.

The other gift fell out of your hand and slid across the bed to be forgotten until your husband finished proving his devotion to you.

Lace was ripped and thrown to the side and sounds of pleasure echoed through your chambers until both you and Aemond had properly worshiped one another and experienced the type of ecstasy that only comes from true love.

You lay contented in his arms atop the rose petals that covered your bed.

“I am glad we were wed,” you said as you absentmindedly ran your fingers across his chest.

“As am I,” he said as he laced his fingers with yours and pressed a kiss to the top of your hand.

“Oh, damn it!” you exclaimed suddenly.

“What is it?” Aemond asked.

“I forgot to give you your other gift, we were far too distracted,” you said bashfully.

He released his hold on you and you clambered across the excessively large bed until you could reach the box.

You slid back to him and snuggled into his chest once again as you handed it to him.

He tugged on the ribbon and unwrapped it much more carefully than he had unwrapped his other present.

You watched as he opened the box and gasped softly in surprise.

“Oh, little love, what is this?” he asked in wonder.

You took the eyepatch out of the box and turned to face him.

“Well the one you wear seems to be rather old and worn, and though I always prefer to gaze upon your handsome face with nothing blocking my view, I figured if you were determined to wear an eyepatch the least I could do was get you a new one,” you said and pressed a soft kiss to his cheek.

He turned his face, nudged his nose against yours, and pressed a gentle kiss to your lips.

He pulled back from you and you smiled.

“Do you like it?” you asked.

“No one has ever given me such a thoughtful gift. Is that your house sigil imprinted upon the leather?” he asked and his voice was thick with emotion.

He took it from you and turned it this way and that to properly view it.

“Yes! And yours on the other end of the strap as well,” you said with a grin.

“Thank you,” he murmured as he pressed a kiss to your forehead.

You took it from his hand and placed it in the proper place around his head and across his sapphire eye.

He hummed in contentment.

“What is the verdict?” he asked.

“Handsome as ever, my love,” you said with a smirk.

He grinned and pulled you into another deep kiss.

[fandomfluffandfuck]

Bucky finds DomSub porn on Steve's search history and asks him about it.

At first Bucky thinks Steve is the one who wants to Dom. A very confusing discussion follows.

Bucky hasn't bottomed since before Steve and him have been together, atleast 80 odd years. But he'd be willing to try if that's what Steve's found he's into-

And a very bright red and sputtering Steve has to admit that, no.. he wants to be dominated. He wants to take it up the ass with restraints and praise.

Immediately Bucky is much more attached to the idea. Despite the fact that their roles in the bedroom have always been somewhat akin to these things Steve's been reading and watching, he never even considered.. oh god this is something he really wants too. Suddenly he's kind of drooling at the idea of this step up in dynamics.

Just picturing Steve tied up, whimpering and whining, bright red all over and blissfully out of his mind. Jesus.

They have a long road ahead of them lmao

For reference, my ask box is no longer open for requests, but this is from before I closed it, so I will be writing for this ask.

Yeah, yeah, yeah-!

There's a trope in your ask that I feel like appears pretty often in stucky fanfics, the whole we've-been-doing-this-since-before-there-was-a-name-for-it. Which, I'm unsure if it would be true because, well, I'm sure they would have called power dynamics something and the words have simply changed over time, but I haven't done enough research to know what. Or, it could've been completely true because they might have been cut off from any community that could have told them a name for that, so it would've been just something between the two of them, a way they played that they were unsure if anyone else did at all, and they didn't stop to put a name to it. Either way, it's definitely interesting.

Like, Bucky has been roughing Steve up since they were boys. He was the only one who respected Steve and didn't treat him like glass. Bullies were one thing, spitting on him and beating him, well-meaning adults were another thing, tiptoeing around him and worrying over his always ailing body, and Bucky something completely unique.

gif by the-girl-without-a-face

Bucky would wrestle him on the floor admist the shrieks and chanting and boney ankles of his younger sisters in the Barnes' home, Bucky wouldn't go easy on him in gym class but wasn't picking him out and wailing on him either, treating him as fair, worthy competition, and Bucky, as they got older, would kiss him like he wasn't afraid. He would pull Steve in for vicious kisses the moment they were alone that felt almost bruising against Steve's buzzing lips, their mouths meeting so fiercely. He would drag his teeth over Steve's bottom lip, unconcerned with the outside world and anything they may have to say about why Steve's lips are suddenly so swollen and wet after being locked in a bedroom with only one other person. Another young man.

Bucky didn't care about the suspicion of others over Steve's split lip, Steve's bruised flesh, or Steve's panting, soft moans that might overflow from their apartment. Partly because he just didn't fucking care, he cared about Steve too much to care about much anything else, and partly because he knew Steve could hold his own. Steve was not only strong enough to take it but stubborn enough to enjoy it.

And farther, Steve was strong enough to resist anything anyone said about him. That split lip? Nah, it wasn't from being pinned underneath Bucky, kissing until the fragile flesh of his mouth split and ran red. It was just from another fight, and you should see the other guy. He got it worse. Those bruises, just about the size of the tip of someone's finger? Huh. Must be from yet another confrontation or from smacking his boney body on corners and tables and doorframes. His balance isn't so good, and his skin is so thin and finicky, y'know? Anything makes him bruise. Anything that isn't, certainly, Bucky's strong, work-calloused hands digging into him as he fucks him without mercy, no, that'd be preposterous. Speaking of fucking, those little sounds, sweet and breathy, choked out from the Barnes-Rogers, Rogers-Barnes bare-bones bachelor pad? Those aren't anything to worry about. They come at night because that's when Steve's getting ready for bed and arranging his sheets and his dust allergy kicks up as well as when his asthma bothers him most, his lungs tired after a whole days worth of breathing. Those are the choked sounds of trying to get enough air. They absolutely are not the muffled sounds of pleasure from taking whatever Bucky dishes out and expects him to take, making his eyes go hazy and unfocused, rolling back into his head while his mouth drops open, leaving Bucky with no choice but to slap a hand over his stupid, pretty face to keep him quiet.

Yeah.

Bucky doesn't go easy on Steve. Why would he? Steve responds so fucking well to that roughness.

Oddly, nothing makes him more compliant than just a little roughing up. He'll fight back, sure, but he doesn't actually want to win their wrestling match or want Bucky to stop. He just wants to add to the anticipation. He wants to make Bucky earn it. He wants to egg Bucky on, get him to let go that last little bit, and really wail on him. That's what gets Steve limp and moaning all breathy, his eyelashes fluttering softly, his heart slowly circulating his blood, pushing it down, down, down between his legs.

And as much as they don't talk about it, not really, during that time before the war--or even during the war later, when Bucky and Steve let the violence of the war front bleed into their own games but in a much more tender, caring way that spoke of their bonds, not of their differences like the troop mentalities of us vs them--they don't talk about it worse when Bucky first comes back.

Steve doesn't talk because he doesn't know what Bucky remembers, and he doesn't want to push him away if he doesn't remember and it's too much for him. He won't pressure him. If Bucky doesn't want to be together, at all, anymore, then they won't be. If Bucky doesn't want to be with him, like that, anymore, then they won't be. Steve would never dream of pushing Bucky into that dynamic again if he doesn't want it.

Bucky doesn't talk because, yes, at first, those days have yet to resurface through the murky, silt-heavy waters of his subconscious, not settled out to a clear lake. But, eventually, memory in mind, back where it should be, Bucky doesn't talk because he doesn't know how to broach the topic. Steve always did that. Steve goaded him and encouraged it, directly or, most often, indirectly--not using his words but letting his shivers of pleasure, heavily-lidded eyes, and low, soft sounds of lust talk for him. Bucky isn't sure how to ask if they're real memories, just fantasies, or how to ask if Steve still wants it that way.

Steve really fucking wants it.

But, again, Steve's stubborn. Once they are together again, officially, and once they are being intimate again, it's enough. Wholeheartedly. Steve will take that and nothing more and not truly complain about a thing. Having an itch in the back of his mind is nothing compared to the gaping, festering wound he once harbored, thinking his lover was dead. He can deal with it. More than "deal," he will thrive with it. But...

As stubborn as Steve is, he's curious, too. He can't leave anything alone. He can't turn a blind eye. He can't pretend. So, when he can finally stomach thinking of intimacy again because Bucky is back and they're having it, cuddling and sex and everything between, Steve starts to get curious. He's thinking more and more about how they used to act.

Did anyone else do that before?

Does anyone else do that now?

Yes.

The answer to both is yes.

They did.

They do.

Steve goes looking, and he finds.

He finds a wealth of names for those kinds of practices--all kinds of people from all different backgrounds, genders, and sexualities mixing wanted, pleasurable meanness and violence and bite with loving affection. Kink. BDSM. (Which, BDSM, is a name that carries names it of itself, fascinatingly enough. Bondage and discipline. Domination and submission. Sadism and masochism.) Power dynamics. Power play. Roleplay. Total power exchange. Dom/sub. Authority kinks. Master/slave. Pain play. Daddy/boy. Competency kinks. Etc. Etc.

All those different words for it live in Steve's search history, and it lives in real people who really do this stuff and really enjoy themselves. They describe liking it, loving it, needing it. Just like Steve liked it, loved it, and needed it when Bucky gave him those things, although, ultimately, in a less organized way than in the way presented to him online, discussing limits, both hard and soft, having negotiations before most every "scene", and employing safewords. Those all sound smart. They were definitely uninformed back then but also just young and reckless.

Overall, though, it's enough to know it exists. Steve isn't really planning on doing anything about it. Not yet, at least. He wants to savor what he's just won back for a while longer before altering it in any way. But...

Bucky borrows his laptop when his own is charging up from dead, and Steve didn't think to delete his history because it's his laptop? He knows what he was looking at, and he doesn't care if he sees it again, in fact, he might want to. He may want or need to retrace his digital tracks. So--

"Steve?"

All of that old, roughing-up they used to do bubbles up to the surface again.

They'll have a conversation about it. They will. Eventually. But... the way Steve colors that perfect, sweet pink once Bucky turns the laptop around to show him a web page about the history and origins of erotic bondage, well, there's not much that can be done. Bucky is done in. That blush. That fucking blush heats Bucky up like a summer sunset, setting off humid, thick arousal but also awe.

His baby is pretty.

And he remembers, vividly--sprawled like a Renaissance painting across the back of his eyelids in his mind's eye--how pretty he was curled up into all kinds of twisted, pretzel shapes with the help of Bucky's soft neckties, elastic suspenders, or worn, butter-smooth belt. How pretty he was gasping for air while Bucky pumped deep inside him, fucking him and holding his bird-boned wrists above his head in one clenched fist to keep those trouble making fingers outta his way. How pretty he was with his big blue eyes wide and wet with tears, pleading through uneven hiccuping sobs to please, please, please finally be able to cum after a whole afternoon spent laid out on their thin, old mattress, told he couldn't move an inch, or they'd be done--struggling to obey instinctively, his body aching for pleasure, but wanting to obey regardless. How pretty he was being good. How pretty he was submitting.

Bucky's mouth is dry as a desert, just thinking about those dust-covered memories. He licks his lips, rifling through his own body to decide how he feels. Steve tracks the movement with a distinct, familiar kind of embarrassment in his blue eyes. Bucky feels very, very aroused.

"Yeah?" Steve finally replies, his voice hoarse. Rough and feral.

In response, Bucky's voice comes out dripping with his usually faded accent, "go get me a belt."

Steve's jaw drops. Although, before Bucky can reel himself back in, his words, no, his demand swallowed back down into his chest where it's more appropriate, more private, Steve is scurrying off as obedient as a lap dog.

A grin twists itself onto Bucky's lips.

Steve returns, panting, he zipped to the bedroom and back with everything he has. Eager little punk. But, he is holding a belt.

It's one of Bucky's, no surprise there. Old habits die hard, Bucky supposes.

They have plenty of belts to choose from these days, belts for different occasions from hanging around the house to fancy charity events, belts of different styles to fit every occasion and every kind of pant, belts on belts on belts, belts for the both of them. But, the belt Steve selected is Bucky's oldest. And it's the most familiar. The very thing he owned in the 30s before everything was war rationed. Thick, smooth, flexible leather that's been beat to shit, so much wear and love to it. The hole punched through it that Bucky uses a little looser than all the rest.

Bucky takes it from him, and Steve whimpers.

An answering chuckle finds its way out of Bucky, pulled up from the same depths as his arousal. Deep, thudding--throbbing. He hasn't even done anything yet, and here is his little dolly, all pink, slack-jawed, and making cute sounds for him.

"Wrists, behind your back, darlin'," Bucky murmurs.

Steve spins in a tight circle and crosses both hands over the small, small of his big, broad back, holding them together.

Bucky lovingly loops the leather of his belt around Steve's wrists once, twice, enjoying the goosebumps that lift over Steve's skin immensely. It pleases the animal inside him, wanting this more than he knows how to deal with.

Easy as breathing, once he's got Steve's wrists bound, he puts his boy on his knees between his knees. Steve's laptop pushed to the other end of the couch and forgotten, completely forgotten.

Nothing exists but Steve.

So fucking pretty.

Blonde hair that begs to be stroked and pulled. A blush spilled like expensive, sugary wine across his high cheekbones and the bridge of his nose, slowly running down to his square jaw and swallowing throat. Blue eyes getting darker with every tension-filled moment that passes between them, shaded by unreal lashes that Bucky knows get even more obscene when painted with cum. Dripping and heavy. Soaked. Lips plush and unreal. All of him. His crooked nose. Every bit of him.

Bucky strokes his smooth, smooth jaw and zeros in on the way his lips quiver, so close to begging already.

Maybe he can take it easy on him this one time, hm? It has been a long, long time...

"You want it?" Bucky husks out, tracing the tips of his fore- and middle fingers from the hinge of his killer jaw to the plush pillow of his fat bottom lip.

Steve nods urgently, but his lips dropping open is more than enough of an answer.

An answer and a request that Bucky fulfills eagerly, shoving two fingers into Steve's mouth and pressing down on his tongue, letting him have a taste of the weight, and feeling his hot mouth flood with saliva. Wet.

Desperate hunger.

Bucky pushes deeper, relishing in the way the smaller, more uniform taste buds at the center of his tongue give way to larger, vaguely rougher ones at the very back and how that turns into nothing but the slick, velvet-soft inside of his throat. His throat contracts and hugs his fingers even as he sputters around a gagged moan.

Good fucking god.

"Yeah," Bucky talks down to his blushing, restrained yet squirming boy, choking on his fingers, eyes full of glassy, pretty tears, "you want it."

Steve moans that much harder, straining his neck to get more, trying to have his fingers deeper, deeper until his teeth dig hard into Bucky's knuckles.

"Don't worry, baby," Bucky hears himself coo, a low, syrupy tune that goes well with the jingle of his belt, undoing it one handed to get his dick out. If Steve wants to be tied down and have his mouth filled up, then that's what he'll get. Bucky can spend as much time as Steve wants--as much as he needs pounding down into his tight throat, making him take it, wearing him down to rivers of tears of pleasure, and leaving him limp everywhere except where it counts, so drunk on being used that he doesn't have a lick of fight left in him. He's so easy and hard for being a nice, wet hole. Always was. Always will be.

[scarletta-ruan]

Sorry for the lipstick on your cheek [BSD men x fem!reader]

WARNING: OOC, soft!characters, mention of some nickname (Dove, Dorogaya), reader can play the violin in Fyodor's scenario

TYPE: Scenario, fluff

PAIRING: Osamu Dazai || Sakunosuke Oda || Atsushi Nakajima || Fyodor Dostoevsky || Nikolai Gogol x fem!reader (seperately)

WORDCOUNTS: 2k6+ words

NOTES: I had thought about this idea for a long time, how do they react if your lipstick stuck on their cheek so I decided to write one. If you are interested in my fanfic, you may send a request for me through an ask box. The rules is here.

1. Osamu Dazai

“Ah, I’m so bored.”

Dazai leaned back on his chair and whined to himself, he had to write the reports which were left for lots of weeks. He just wanted to have time to get out but it seemed like those reports made him here, staying in this place just to finish his own work. If you were here, he would make you do it for him while he cuddled you when you sat on his lap to write it.

Dazai made a plane from his own report and threw it to fly around the office, he hoped you would get back soon. The clicking sound from the door resounded and he looked at the door immediately, Dazai heard a female voice shout.

“Ouch! It hurts, who would throw the paper plane just to make it fly around like that?”

Dazai knew it right away, it was his time for him to cuddle with you, it meant you got back from your own mission. Dazai got out of his seat to approach the front door, he saw you were standing there with one hand rubbing your forehead just because of an accident which was caused by him. Your frowned face turned into a cheering one when you saw him, you smiled and said.

“Oh, Osamu, I’m back.”

“Welcome back, cutie pie.”

Dazai greeted you. You bowed down just to pick up the paper plane and said.

“Who would make this one fly around then hit on my forehead like that, they should know that it is prohibited in this office right, Osamu?”

When you stood up again just to walk toward Dazai standing there you said, he put his arms around you right away you approached him and said.

“Sorry, it was my fault to do that.”

He gently kissed on your forehead where the paper plane hit it. You chuckled when you heard him saying sorry, for many times Dazai did bad things to you, he would say it. But you slowly placed an index finger on his lips and said.

“Shh, don’t say sorry to me. I know that you don’t want to make it happen, right?”

Dazai nodded his head when his brown orbs paid attention to you, that made you smile when you decided to tip toes and gave him a kiss on his cheek then continued.

“There, return back to you, love.”

Dazai’s cheeks glowed red because of you, he looked away then covered half of his face with his hand. You chuckled, then you escaped from his arms and walked outside of the office again, it seemed like you had another mission to do so. Dazai was stunned for a moment when the door opened again and Kunikida stepped in, when he saw his colleague got it Dazai immediately became his normal self.

“Oh, hey, Kunikida, get back from work.”

“Yeah, I’m back.” Kunikida said, then he looked at Dazai’s face. He frowned then continued. “Dazai, you are getting out with a woman just after I leave, right?”

“No? What do you mean, Kunikida?”

Dazai narrowed his eyes then asked. Kunikida pointed at one of his cheeks and said.

“There was lipstick on your cheek, Dazai.”

Oh, and that when Dazai remembered that you always wore lipsticks and maybe you forgot to wipe it before kissing him. He chuckled to himself and murmured.

”Little kitty, I will kiss you if you return back.”

2. Sakunosuke Oda

“Oh, Odasaku.”

You smiled weakly when you caught him also getting into the children's place when you got out of their house. You two had been lovers for a long time, since Oda said that he had brought up some children. You always spent your time visiting them and giving them some sweets or teached them something they wanted to learn.

Oda sighed then he walked toward you, when you lifted your head up once again he was in front of you now. He slowly placed his big hand on your head then gently rubbed it, he said.

“I heard that you sent your money just to support me bringing up those children.”

You nodded your head to confirm it. You knew that he did not have enough money, he spent most of his salary for raising the children so you still understood that he would not have enough money to do something else. Oda smiled then he said.

“You don’t need to worry about me, I know you also don’t have much money either.”

“But… Odasaku, it’s alright. I do have enough for our living and I always want to help you to raise the children.”

You smiled and said, you looked into Oda’s dark brown orbs. When he got ready to say anything else you immediately said.

“Ah, don’t return back my money, Odasaku. I heard the owner tell me that you told him to return my money. Don’t worry about me, I do have enough.”

“But during this time you don’t have any books which were published. It means…” Oda stopped for a while and his forehead leaned on to you then he said. “...You don’t have any money now.”

You sighed, how many times did you have to comfort him that you had enough money for you two living and also have enough to raise the children. You raised a hand to put on Oda’s shoulder and patted it gently then said.

“I had told you for a long time, Odasaku. Since I met you I knew that I want to help you bring up those little cuties, they are just like the small me too. So… don’t say that, I will help you to bring them up.”

Oda nodded his head when he heard you say that, his arms put around your waist and gave you a light hug. You looked at the watch on your wrist and when you realized you were late for work you hurriedly kissed his cheeks and said.

“Goodbye, Odasaku. I have to go to work now, tell the child that next time I will bring them more books and sweets too.”

You said then rushed to the street, Oda stood there for a while, looked at you and disappeared in front of his eyes. That was when he got into the children’ place again, when he opened the door they rushed to him. But Oda noticed they were giggling when they looked at his face, and that was when a girl approached him with a small mirror in her hand, faced him and said.

“Odasaku, you have… something on your cheeks.”

When Oda looked at the mirror, he saw a lipstick which was settled nicely on his cheek. You might be too hurried to forget that you had to wipe it off before kissing him. He shook his head and sighed, that was when Oda was surrounded by lots of questions from the children here. 

3. Atsushi Nakajima

“Ah, wait, Atsushi. Wait for me.”

You rushed to the white-haired boy just before he got ready to get into the Armed Detective Agency office. Atsushi stopped when he heard your voice, his eyes widened when he saw you here.

“[Name]-san, why are you here?”

“Finally, I can catch up to you.”

You gasped when you finally caught him, then Atsushi saw you hurriedly open your lunch box bag just to find something. When you found it, you took it out and handed it to Atsushi and smiled happily then said.

“Here, Atsushi, you forgot it.”

Atsushi tilted his head when he could not understand the problem here. When he noticed the thing in your hand he immediately knew what was happening. A lovely lunch box was in your hands, he slowly took it with both of his hands. You always remembered to make lunch for him and checked if he forgot it or not. Atsushi awkwardly said while his cheeks were glowing red.

“Th-Thanks, [Name]-san. You take care of me so well.”

“You don’t have to say it, Atsushi.” You looked straight into his eyes when you replied to him. You patted on his shoulder then continued. “I will always take care of you because we are lovers after all, right. And… you weren't loved when you were a child so I want to make you happy by taking care of you, of course.”

Just when Atsushi heard those sayings from you again he nearly bursted into tears, just then you raised both of your hands to his cheeks and silently wiped the tears away, then said.

“You don’t need to cry, my lover.”

“But… you make me eager when you say those words.” Atsushi raised one of his hands to cover up half of his face and gulped down then continued. “[Name]-san, do you have to work today?”

“Oh, Oh my God!”

You screamed then your hands left his cheeks, you checked on the watch on your wrist and became panicked then said. 

“Oh, my train is going to leave for 15 minutes. I'm gonna be late for work.”

You hurriedly rushed to the stair of the building but then, you remembered there was one thing you forgot to do. You rushed to Atsushi's side again, while he was waiting for you to leave, he was startled when he saw you returned back, he quickly said.

“[Name]-san, if you don’t hurry, you will be late for wor-”

You cut Atsushi off when you kissed on his cheeks hurriedly and said.

“I forgot a goodbye kiss for you. Now then, goodbye Atsushi.”

You left after you kissed his check, which made Atsushi stunned for a while with a red face. He stood there for a moment to wait for himself to become normal again just to get ready to get into the office again. When Atsushi got to his seat, he greeted everyone in the office.

“Good morning, everyone.”

Atsushi noticed that the members in the office were looking at his face with chuckling, when he did not understand what was happening here, he heard a girl’s voice resound into his ears.

“You have lipstick on your cheek.”

Atsushi turned his head to Kyouka when he raised his cheek to touch his cheek, when he wiped it he saw a red lipstick was stuck on his hand. That made Atsushi’s face turn red then he embarrassedly rushed to the toilet to wash it.

4. Fyodor Dostoevsky

Fyodor was stunned at the scene before his eyes. He was now standing at the harbor, his purple eyes looking at the person who was holding a violin in her hand and playing like there was not anything around her. The notes from her song made his heart stop a beat, he knew this song, of course. Fyodor knew that he could realize this song immediately when he heard it.

You were still standing there under the sunset of the Yokohama and playing that song, your body moved when you played. Every movement of yours made Fyodor want to see more from you. Then you stopped playing the violin when the song was done, you gasped when you looked at the sea in front of your eyes.

Fyodor approached and hugged you in his arms right away. You were startled at first when you felt there was a person who hugged you, your voice resounded.

“Oh, w-what is happening- oh, Fedya.”

When you looked aside you saw a similar shirt that you always saw before. You could not mistake this person, he was Fyodor after all. When you were stunned with his hug, you heard his voice resound in your ears.

“The song was so good, my heart pounding fast when I heard it.”

“Th-Thanks, Fedya.”

You smiled gently, switched the bow on your other hand then placed your hand on his. You two always suddenly met each other like this, sometimes it was Fyodor who met you first and sometimes it was you who noticed him first. You said.

“You know what, Fedya. This place is one of my favorite places when I want to play violin.”

You closed your eyes, the sea wind slowly flew into your face. You loved the wind which was brought from the sea a lot, it always carried the salt in it, which made you feel nostalgic. You were born in this city and someday you would also die here, being buried by the one who you loved most. 

“It’s getting late now, we should go home.”

You turned to him then said, Fyodor nodded his head and raised his hand for you to hold him. You gently took his hand and kissed his cheek like you always did, but when you left his cheek you suddenly covered your mouth and said.

“O-Oh, I’m sorry Fedya, I forgot that I wore on lipstick today.”

You took a handkerchief in your pocket and wanted to wipe it off for him. But Fyodor grabbed your hand immediately and lightly kissed it, he said.

“Thanks, Dorogaya.”

“Y-You’re welcome.”

You turned away with red cheeks when you said that.

5. Nikolai Gogol

“I’m home.”

You tiredly opened the front door, and when you looked down at the doorstep you knew right away who was home before you. Your [color] orbs looked at the watch on your wrist and realized that it was too late now, maybe he was waiting for you so long. You took off your shoes then got inside the house. You just wanted to find Nikolai as if he was at home then you may make him dinner and let him cuddle you.

When you stepped in the living room, you finally saw him. Nikolai was wrapping himself with a thick blanket and he seemed very warm when he curled up his body in it. You silently walked in and looked at his face, you did not want to wake him up so you decided to be quiet. When you lifted your hand up just to touch at his cheek you felt a hand touch on your shoulder, then you screamed.

“Oh, my God! Is that a ghost?”

When you turned around just to check it out, you saw a hand was waving for you through the portal. You chuckled happily then turned your head to him and said.

“Kolya, are you awake, my sweet heart?”

“You don’t sharpen your realizing skill even though we have lived together for so long, right?”

Nikolai opened his mismatch looked at you miraculously then he sat up and looked at you. You rushed to his chest right away, leaned your head on his chest, and enjoyed the smell that you were used to being. Nikolai rubbed your head with his bare hand and hugged you back on your waist. He said.

“You are late today, did your work keep you at the office?”

“Yes, of course.” You sighed then answered his question, lifted your head up just to look at his eyes and continued. “I have to edit my report over and over until my boss said it was alright to use. I feel kinda tired right now, maybe I should take a rest.”

“You better be, Dove. How about I carry you to the bathroom?”

Nikolai suggested his idea to you, you smiled when you heard that and nodded your head with no doubt. When Nikolai stood up on his feet while carrying you in bridal style, you kissed on his cheek and when you realized you forgot to wipe the lipstick before kissing him, you yelped.

“S-Sorry, Kolya, I didn’t mean to.”

“It’s alright.” Nikolai replied to you then he placed his mouth beside your ears then said. “Will you wear your lipstick tonight, I think we can have another game to try out.”

[k-martins]

I'm late, but what matters is posting the results, so hello!

Let's move on to placing them:

BIGGEST ITFS SUPPORTERS ON CANON!!!!!

RYOMEN "You finally got a role" SUKUNA

Also known as the one who is intimately aware of our couple's desires, desires and fears (after all, he shared a body with both of them), Sukuna is the main plot device when it comes to bringing Itafushi even closer together. It's thanks to your existence that ITFS started, isn't it? LOL.

He's a threat, he's a calamity, he's a bored old man, but most importantly, he's responsible for the line "congratulations, you've won a role" where he not only recognizes Yuji's new power, but also that our pookie pink haired girl is ready to save her sea urchin. After all, it's quite propitious for Yuji to save his soulmate in the domain called "pure and mutual love" LMAO!!!!

Fortunately, Sukuna comes in last place because he gave several traumas to ITFS, including murder, body snatching, mental and emotional manipulation, violence and a lot of anguish. He's a bad bitch we love to hate!

((I couldn't get any art from them that wasn't a ship T-T ))

3TH PLACE:

NOBARA "Boys are disgusting" KUGISAKI

It was a close battle with second place, but I confess that not even Nobara could compete against him T-T. Our beautiful queen full of thorns is the most common third wheel in the canon, being present in moments that helped in the growth of ITFS, such as their conversation after the exchange event (where we see Yuji blush and smile after Megumi praised him hihi) and when our boys take each other's hands as a sign of trust after the fight with Kechizu and Eso. She's also the queen who helps these two idiots notice their feelings in fanfics, so what better than third place for her!!!!

It's a shame we can't see her reaction when she hears the phrase "so start saving me, Itadori", but I bet she would scream something like "get a room, you two, gay idiots!".

Anyway, Nobara, know that you will always be famous and our boys will make you proud as they finish off Sukuna and ride off into the sunset T-T

2TH PLACE

YUTA "THIS IS PURE LOVE" OKKOTSU

Who but the main advocate of love to come second? Yuta has shown himself to be a huge supporter of itfs since his return to the post-Shibuya manga, from helping Yuji deal with his inner demons to agreeing to save him because he was someone important to Megumi (shoot me in the head if Megumi didn't ask Yuta save Yuji when he learned that his senpai would be the executioner).

He also had to watch from a box seat the dramatic ITFS meeting after the horrors in Shibuya, so he knows how serious Megumi and Yuji are about protecting each other. Yuta is also doing everything he can to make these two stay together, not taking long to jump against Sukuna to save Megumi and opening his beautiful domain of PURE AND MUTUAL LOVE!!!! Yes girls, Yuta is the last romantic on earth and he will be the key to our ITAFUSHI coming back to us T-T.

This boy is just not in first place, because first place belongs to him alone.

1st PLACE

SATORU "Personal feelings?" GOJO

THE HONORABLE!!!! MEGUMI'S FATHER!!! THE MOST ROMANTIC EVER!!!! SATORU GOJO TAKES FIRST PLACE!!!! He was the first to notice ITFS in the SECOND EPISODE and makes a point of always bringing these two boys even closer with his discreet (and some extravagant) plans. An example of this is his readiness to accept saving Yuji because it was a request from his dear son, going against the ENTIRE JUJUTSU WORLD just because he knows what it's like to love someone who is condemned to death (stsg tears run down my eyes).

He also placed the boys next to each other, supported their relationship, blessed them, and was willing to save his son so that none of them would suffer (someone shoot me).

YOUR FIRST PLACE IS DESERVED!!!! I'M SURE ITFS WILL BE THE HAPPY VERSION OF STSG AND WILL BE ABLE TO MAKE ITS SENSEI PROUD!!!!

Official results!

This is the end, but we'll give some honorable mentions.

- Toji Fushiguro (his VA said that Toji would find Yuji a bit annoying at first, but would soon like him too, which is understandable, since Yuji is fantastic)

- Choso (Anyone who loves Yuji will be loved by Choso)

- Nanami Kento (no explanation, I just feel it)

- Tsumiki Fushiguro (I don't need to see this to know your opinions)

- Grandpa Wasuke Itadori (HE WOULD LOVE MEGUMI, FIGHT ME IF YOU DON'T AGREE)

- Aoi Todo (He would always support Yuji, no matter how annoying his crush is)

- Gege Akutami (come on kitty, we all know you secretly love itfs and stsg and are cooking a beautiful and wonderful wedding for them, no need to be shy about it ;) )

[cielie-voss]

hi, can I make a request for an eddie fic? Like enemies to lovers where the reader is in a classic school band which is always in a fight with corroded coffin? Thanks a lot :D

You know I hate you, right?

Eddie Munson x fem!Reader - Enemies to lovers

Warnings: swearing, Eddie and Reader being bitchy.

a/n: thank you so much, I loved this one, it's so sweet! I hope you like how it turned out!

If you want to be tagged in coming fanfics or if you want to request something, feel free to send me a dm or an ask. 🥰 Likes, comments and especially reblogs are always welcome. 🤗

Masterlist

“If I were your wife, I would poison your coffee!” Her screeching voice fills the cafeteria.

"Oh yeah?" Eddie stands up angrily and stomps a step towards her, "If I were your husband, I'd love to drink it!"

“She doesn’t mean it.” Shrugging, Gareth leans back in denial.

“Oh, she means it.” With a shake of his head, Jeff brings his friend out of his delusion. “And I couldn’t blame her.”

“Nonsense!” Gareth denies and continues to stick to his conviction.

“Jesus Christ, I’m counting the days until I don’t have to put up with this smug behavior from her anymore.” Grumbling, Eddie sits down at the table again, seething with anger at his eternal rival, who, also seething with anger, stomps away from the table.

"And her wannabe metal look... How I'd love to rip the studs off her vest."

“I bet he’d love to rip other things off her,” Dustin whispers to Gareth, unfortunately not as quietly as he intended to, and receives a bitterly angry look from the freak.

“Never in my life! And not in a thousand years and if we were the last two people in this universe!” he explains to his young friend with a disgusted grimace.

"And now? Where should we practice now?” After a few moments of deliberation, Jeff says what everyone at the table was silently wondering. After the water damage to Gareth's house, the garage was blocked. Unless the guys at Corroded Coffin would love to practice between Laundry baskets and boxes full of books. And at the gig in three months, according to rumors, people from the music industry will also be there to scout new talents. So nothing is more important than practice right now.

“So I guess we can forget about the music room,” Gareth sighs and leans back. “Thanks to our Prince Charming here.”

Eddie shoots up next to him indignantly. “Prince Charming?” His mouth opens and closes like a fish on land, trying to counter this sarcastic remark.

“What can I do about her being like that? A stupid, bitchy, snippy, unfriendly, unempathetic, arrogant wannabe alternative bitch?”

“You don't happen to have any more negative Attributes come to mind as these …”

“Seven, it was seven,” Dustin adds to Jeff’s remark about the line-up of unnecessary adjectives.

An uncomfortable, oppressive silence falls over them as everyone picks at their food thoughtfully.

“Maybe you’ll try again. Just… nicer?” Gareth suggests after what feels like an eternity, furrowing his eyebrows, ready for another angry tirade on Eddie's part.

“Yeah, maybe you should really try charm. You know, women are into that sort of thing. Flattery, nice words,” Jeff adds.

“Oh, and how do you know what women are into?” With a very exaggerated rolling of his eyes, Eddie turns to his friend. “Besides, I doubt there is even an ounce of femininity in this … bitch. And when it does, it's buried deep under a heap of arrogance. No, before I have to deal with her again, hell will freeze over. We'll find another rehearsal room."

XXX

The Hawkins High School music club has always been a tight-knit community, a sanctuary for those who revel in the soothing melodies of classical music. Y/N, with her cello in hand, was the epitome of this world. She thrives on the sweet symphonies that echo through the club's hallowed halls. As for Eddie Munson, lead guitarist of the local metal band and self-proclaimed "Metalhead," he was about to clash with this world in ways he couldn't have imagined.

One sunny afternoon, Eddie and his bandmates strolled into the music club's headquarters, hoping to secure a practice space for the coming months. Despite Eddies reluctance and constant complaints, they managed to talk to him, convince him that this is the only way to find some place to practice. Open confrontation is what they called it. And to keep everything nice and calm, they asked Dustin to help them negotiate.

Y/N, sitting amidst her fellow cellists, raises an eyebrow at the sight of these intruders. Their leather jackets and wild hair stood in stark contrast to the elegant formality she is used to. It is clear from the beginning that Eddie and his bandmates are unwanted guests.

"We need a place to practice," Eddie declares, his voice dripping with defiance.

Dustin added, "Yeah, and we're willing to pay."

“Pay?”, Gareth asks quietly with furrowed brows and leans to Jeff.

The music club's president, a stern guy named Brandon, stares them down. "This isn't a place for your noise," he sneeres.

Y/N's fingers tighten around her cello's neck, her disdain for the interlopers growing by the second. She has always despised their kind—the rebels, the rule-breakers. To her, music was a sacred refuge, and these delinquents threatened to disrupt it. Although she secretly began to find some peace - unlike the one she knew before - in listening to Metallica or even Iron Butterfly.

Eddie, undeterred by the icy glares and piercing remarks, leans in closer to Brandon. "We won't be here forever, just a few months. We won't interfere with your precious little concerts or rehearsals."

Brandon scoffed, his eyes flicking toward Y/N as if seeking her approval. "The answer is no."

Y/N, unable to contain her annoyance any longer, speaks up. “If you won’t take no for an answer, you have to discuss with the principal. And I’m pretty sure, since you’re definitely not his favorite student, he’s on our side. So I’m afraid you have to find another way to practice your … noise.” With her hands gesturing around their instruments, she puts on a smug grin.

Reluctant Dustin tugs at Eddie's vest. “Dude, come on. We’ll find another way.”

“Yeah, go on Freaks, find another way.”, she quips and shoos them out with waving hands.

Eddie raises an eyebrow, smirking as he shoots back, slowly walking towards her, nearer and nearer with every word until their noses nearly touch, "Oh we’ll find another way, little Beethoven. And it’ll bother you even more than sharing this room with us, just because I’d love to see the regret and defeat on your nasty, little face."

The room falls silent, the tension between them palpable. Their exchange has caught everyone off guard, a brief spark of some kind of chemistry amidst the hostility. But neither is willing to admit it.

XXX

In the following weeks, Eddie and his bandmates scoured Hawkins for any available practice spaces. Everywhere they went, doors slammed in their faces, and they were met with cold rejection. It seemed the music club's word had spread like wildfire, labeling them as outcasts.

“Shit. Fucking. Bullshit.” Gareth declares, as they leave another unsuccessful negotiation. “The gig is in two months. What are we going to do?”

“I don’t know if this is a stupid idea. But… what about the hellfire club room?” Shrugging, Dustin turns to Eddie with this last resort.

“The-” Eddie takes a deep breath and clenches his hand into a fist, bringing it dangerously close to his face waving around. “The Hellfire Room? Why didn’t we think of this before?!”

Now that a new rehearsal space was found, Corroded Coffin spent every free minute practicing. Of course, to the great dismay of the music club, which was only a few rooms away. Their unruly appearance and the thunderous echoes of their music didn't sit well with the club's traditionalists. A constant battle ensued as to who is louder; Corroded Coffin with their covers of Metallica, Van Halen and Co, or the Music Club with their cello and piano version of Mendelssohn's ‘Song without words’.

One evening, Y/N is practicing with her cello alone when she hears the distant sound of an electric guitar. Curiosity piqued, she follows the music, which stops and starts playing again every now and then, paired with a string of curse words until she stumbles upon an abandoned classroom. There, she finds Eddie, his fingers dancing across the guitar strings, lost in the raw passion of his music and the frustration in not hitting the right tones.

In that moment, Y/N is captivated by the power and emotion in Eddie's playing. It is a stark contrast to the elegance of her cello, but it resonated with her in a way she couldn't explain. She leans against the doorway, silently listening, her earlier animosity momentarily forgotten.

Eddie notices her presence but doesn't stop playing. He smirks and quips, "Enjoying the noise?"

Y/N bites her lip, feeling a strange sense of connection. "It's not noise," she admits, surprising even herself. “And you’re playing it wrong.”

Before Eddie even has the chance to say a word, she continues and takes a step towards him. “Your fingers are too slow. If you would move your index finger faster from here - “ She raises her hand and mimics his hand, still wrapped around his guitar, making it easier to understand for him, “ - to here, you would get the right tone. But either way your finger is too slow, or you just simply don’t know how to actually play guitar.”

Still with furrowed brows, Eddie cocks his head. She’s not wrong. She’s absolutely right. And that bugs him.

“But actually, in my opinion, the latter is the case. Well … “

“Woah, woah, woah! Stop, little Beethoven!” He carefully lays down his guitar, then turns to her, raising his hands indignant. “So you are trying to tell me, Edward Munson, lead guitarist of Corroded Coffin, that I can’t play guitar?” Laughing contemptuously he leans forward and grabs one of the little silly pompoms hanging down from her jacket. “You don’t even know what real music is and you have the audacity to tell me how to play my guitar?”

Rolling with her eyes, Y/N brushes off his hand and sighs. “Dickhead.”, she hisses under her breath, reaching out to his guitar. Before Eddies mind has the chance to comprehend what is happening, she wraps her hand around the neck of said instrument.

“See, you play it this way.” Her fingers glide smoothly over the strings, mimicking his previous playing.

With his eyes wide in shock, he follows her actions. She is good. Really good, actually. But of course Eddie is way too proud to admit it, so he rolls with his eyes and laughs.

“And this is how it’s really done.” She continues the song, but plays the right chords. And damn, she was right. That’s why it never sounded good when Eddie was playing.

“You know, you’re really getting on my nerves, little Beethoven.” Ripping his guitar out of her hands, and pushing her outside of the room again, he desperately tries to fight against the butterflies inside his stomach. But this? Damn, without him knowing, his mind decided that this was damn sexy. And he hates himself for feeling this way.

From that day on, Y/N finds herself drawn to the abandoned classroom. She begins to bring her cello along - pretending to feel safer when she isn’t all alone in the school at night practicing-, while Eddie shreds his incredible solos. Every now and then, he even lets her play with his guitar, acting dumb and like he needs some help from her. They still exchange barbs and insults, but there is a newfound camaraderie beneath it all.

One evening, after a particularly intense jam session, Eddie looks at Y/N, who has brought her own guitar this time, his eyes softened. "You know," he begins hesitantly, "you're not half bad on that guitar of yours."

Y/N raises an eyebrow, a hint of a smile tugging at her lips. "Coming from a Metalhead and lead guitarist, that's a compliment, I suppose."

Eddie grins and for the first time, it isn’t a taunting grin. It’s genuine, filled with a warmth Y/N had never seen before.

As the weeks pass, Eddie and Y/N's secret jam sessions continue. They are enemies turned to unlikely allies, and the more they play together, the more their mutual attraction grows. The music club's rejection has pushed them together, and in the process, they discovered a love for each other's worlds.

And the more he gets to know her, the more he realizes that she isn’t just some wannabe alternative bitch, but a real alternative bitch, listening to Metallica, Mötley Crüe and Slayer in secret. He hates to admit it, but he really starts to have a crush on her. Which, of course, his bandmates and friends start to notice.

One evening, after they played a haunting melody that blended their two musical styles, Y/N leans in, her lips brushing against Eddie's ear. "You know," she whispers and his hand automatically finds its place on her knee, "if I were your wife, I'd make you coffee every morning." What is happening? She never even dared to think about getting near to the freak, let alone imagining enjoying this intimacy she recently has with him. Her heart is beating so fast, he nearly could hear its pounding.

Eddie's heart skips a beat, and the tips of his ears start to turn into a burning red as he whispers back, "And if I were your husband, I'd drink it every day."

Carefully he lets his hand run through her soft hair only to stop at her cheek, cupping her face with his calloused hand. He feels the heat of her breath against his neck as she leans further into his touch. Their lips meet in a fiery kiss, sealing the unspoken bond that has formed between them. The enemies-turned-lovers have found their harmony, a fusion of metal and classical music that was as unique as their love story.

“You know I hate you, right?”, he whispers out of breath between kisses.

“Hell yeah,”, she answers, smiling against his lips. “As much as I hate you too.”

In Hawkins, where strange things always seem to happen, the most unexpected love has blossomed between a Metalhead and a Cello player, proving that even the fiercest enemies could become the sweetest of lovers.

xxx

Thank you for reading! 🫶 If you want to be tagged in coming fanfics or if you want to request something, feel free to send me a dm or an ask. 🥰 Likes, comments and especially reblogs are always welcome. 🤗

[hinata-chan-utaitelover]

Caretaker of Wings | A Chaggie FanFic

Request and Prompt by @bunnyinfoxclothing

After the battle with Heaven, Vaggie started to notice something off with her wings. She hadn't noticed it when she gained them back, only now, they were in such excruciating pain that she started her day off with a hunched over posture and groaning with each step she took. The angel finally made it to the lobby area where Charlie was busy planning her newest trust exercise for the unenthusiastic hotel residents.

Vaggie approached her busy girlfriend, not wanting to startle her, and lightly tapped her shoulder, "Hey babe?".

Charlie turned towards Vaggie, looking concerned as she quickly took notice of her girlfriend not looking like her usual self. "Are you alright, Vaggie? You don't look too good. " Worry filling her eyes.

Vaggie, not wanting to worry the princess too much, replied with a soft smile, "Yeah, I've just been having this really bad back pain all morning."

Charlie was on the verge of tears now knowing her song bird was in pain. "Hey honey, do you want me to give you a back massage?"

"Sure babe, maybe that'll help ease the pain." she smiled softly.

The two girls began making their way to their shared bedroom. Charlie helped the angel lie stomach down on their bed after slipping off said angels' shirt. Charlie sat straddled over the girl's thighs while taking a look at her back.

The skin in between Vaggie's wings was red and inflamed. Charlie hesitantly placed her hand on the raw skin to which Vaggie winced in pain.

"We'll have to take care of that before we start, be right back." Charlie left her girlfriend and headed to their bathroom, grabbing a jar of antibiotic cream and bandages.

Charlie made it back to her previous place on their bed and looked back down at the wound as she began scooping out cream, "Now, my song bird, this is going to hurt, but it'll be over quickly. Are you ready?"

Vaggie only nodded in response.

And with that, Charlie began applying the cream, earning a heartshattering shriek followed by a small whimper. "I know this hurts, but I'm almost done." Charlie reassured. She finished applying the cream and then placed the bandage on the wound.

"There! Now that your wound is taken care of, we can get back to the massage!" The princess exclaimed as she placed a kiss on the bandage.

Charlie began slowly rubbing and kneading Vaggie's lower back, earning giggles from said girl. "Chaharlie! Thahat tihihickles!!"

The princess didn't respond, only moving her hands up to the area where the wings attached, while minding the angel's wound, and continued the massage. This spot earned her even more laughter as it seemed to be more sensitive.

#Chaharliee!! Ihihit's shoho bahad!!" The gurl squealed, wriggling and squirming under her.

Charlie seized her hands to give the girl a breather before finishing the massage session with her upper back.

"There we are! Charlie's epic massage session is complete!" Charlie exclaimed, with her bouncy response earning a giggle from her girlfriend.

Charlie reached her hands out to help Vaggie sit up against the bedframe.

"Are you feeling better?" Charlie questioned, placing her arm around the angel.

Vaggie fell into her touch and rested her head on Charlie's chest, "Much better, thanks babe."

"Anything for you. I love you, my beautiful song bird." Charlie replied with a gentle smile, placing a kiss on her girlfriend's head, hugging her tighter.

"I love you too, forever and always."

Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed! Since it's been over a year since I've written a fic, I'll accept any criticism you have to offer.

If you have any requests, either dm me or send a request through my ask box.