#(while keeping the door slightly ajar lol)

[kit-just-kit]

an announcement!

*After many weeks of consideration, I've decided that this blog will no longer be actively posting threads or my replies to them. I've come to this decision for many reasons - the pressures of my new job, the needs of my family members that take up my time when not working, the regular and nonsensical changes inflicted upon us, the 'glitches' we have to constantly work around and unfortunately, the often toxic atmosphere around some elements of rp'ing.

I'm not archiving or leaving this blog altogether - I'll still pop by every so often, probably a lot less often than I've been managing to do lately, I'll send some asks from time to time, post pics, maybe even a couple of memes that seem interesting and any asks that I get as a result but, as for threads, these won't be replied to any further.

That being said, if we have a thread or multiple ones and you have discord, I'm happy to move writing together to there. For me, discord provides the 'fuss free, spontaneous and no way obligatory' environment that was present on tumblr when I began rp'ing here. I appreciate that it doesn't for everyone, but that's just how it is for me.

So, if you'd like to discuss moving our thread to discord, please feel free to IM and we can get that sorted?

For those who don't use discord, please know that I will miss writing with you very much and this is no way any kind of commentary on either your talent, muse or approach to rp'ing.......this is just something I have to do for myself, at this stage of my life.

I'll also give myself the option of changing my mind in the future on this, hence why I'm not archiving or deleting the blog.

It's been a fun nearly-ten years here (between the old and this present blog) and who knows, giving myself this freedom might make me feel less obligated and therefore, more free to commit to be here more but, I have to be honest, that doesn't seem likely to me at this point.

Anyways, I wish you all well and hope that on the rare occassions here in the future, you'll still interact by posting whatever I might send you and send me stuff in return.

Ta-ta for now,

Sarah (and Kit) xxxxxxx

p.s. on logging in today I discovered that the number of blogs I follow had gone down quite a bit - don't know if this is yet another glitch or something I've done but, if I'm no longer following and you'd like to discuss transferring our currnet thread or starting a new one on discord, feel free to IM/send an ask to me?*

[ilyrafe]

𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒍𝒚 𝒎𝒐𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈 ✧ 𝒓. 𝒄.

pairing: rafe cameron x f!reader

warnings: brief sexual innuendo, rafe being a softie!!!!

word count: 2.6k (i *might* have gotten carried away i'm so sorry lol)

a/n: this is a sequel to late night and also based on this, so thanks @keziahcore ! your mind is literally everything!

it’s almost like a sixth sense.

rafe feels your absence from the bed, and immediately becomes agitated. he turns on the lamp next to his bed and looks for any sign that you’re still there, and finds your small handbag on the armchair, which makes him just slightly relieved. 

when he looks at the clock, he sees that it is almost two in the morning. the bathroom door is ajar and the lights are off, which means you’re not there. before he can leave his room looking for you, you return, holding a glass of water, wearing only his shirt to cover yourself up.

“where were you? why did you leave me here?”

he can’t control this agony, this anguish that always catches him off guard when he finds himself alone. he can’t help feeling like a time bomb, ready to explode at any moment. the smallest things you do seem to trigger him massively, and he hates that. he hates that he ends up being rude and harsh to you, because you’re always so understanding and sweet.

even he knows he doesn’t deserve you.

“i was thirsty and went downstairs to drink some water.” your tone is sweet and calm, which makes him feel like shit.

his face changes, as he seems to calm down. you didn’t leave him, you just went to get some water. you’re there, your stuff is there, you’re not going anywhere.

“next time, leave a glass here. i don’t like it when you do that.” he says in a much softer tone, but he’s still upset that his sleep got interrupted.

“do what? get hydrated?” you joke, trying to lighten up his mood.

he rolls his eyes and huffs. don’t make him tell the truth.

“go back to bed. i’m tired, alright? i had a long day.”

“actually, i was going to read a book. i’m not sleepy and i don’t want to lie down right now.”

is it so hard to understand that he wants you to be close to him so that he feels safe enough to get a decent night’s sleep?

“you can read on the bed.”

“you won’t mind the lamp on?”

“no, just get the damn book and come back to bed.”

you laugh and nod, picking up the book from his desk and following him to his bed. rafe gets to his spot and as you sit down, he places one hand on your bare thigh and falls back to sleep almost immediately.

while he dives deep into his necessary rest, you start reading. it’s that book, in cold blood by truman capote. you don’t know if rafe is a reader, he never really talks about books with you.

every once in a while, you look down at your thighs to see his hand, firmly holding you, to make sure you won’t leave. this small gesture makes you feel stupid. stupid to believe he might feel something other than lust for you. rafe makes you question your beliefs and that itself makes you feel overwhelmed.

sometimes you want to leave, but you can’t bring yourself to do it. and you have tried countless times. he’s good for you in the same intensity he’s bad. to say you’re scared to ask him what you are would be an understatement, but you just would like some clarification, because you don’t beg the people you’re casually fucking to stay the night almost every night and throw a tantrum when they leave to get some water.

deep down, you know you’re more scared to hear you’re just an easy fuck. at this point, this would tear you apart.

being with rafe is a challenge. it’s like running a marathon you know you will not get to the finish line, and yet, you keep running.

when it’s almost four in the morning, you close the book and turn the lamp off. finally, sleep comes to you, and you settle into his bed, still holding rafe’s hand, which never left your thigh. with the touch, rafe wakes up, and this time he is no longer agitated.

“sorry, didn’t mean to wake you.” you say, as you snuggle into the mattress.

“you- what time is it?” he asks, adorably confused and sleepy.

“it’s almost four.”

“and you’re going to sleep now?”

“yeah. go back to sleep, it’s early.” you say softly, placing a hand on his cheek, and he complies, pulling you close.

(...)

rafe’s alarm clock rings promptly at seven in the morning. he turns it off and goes back to his previous position: hugging you.

your hair smells like coconut and your skin is always soft. he never wants to not be touching you. it’s like your body was made to be next to his. for some reason, just your presence is enough to make him feel calm and at peace.

he places the softest kiss on your shoulder, enjoying the quietness that only early mornings can give him. the sweet sound of birds chirping outside makes him forget about everything else. rafe only has you in his mind (and in his arms).

you wake up and soon turn to face him. rafe has the most adorable sleepy face, and you might never stop melting over him. seeing him up close will never not be amazing. he’s the most handsome man you’ve ever seen. he probably has the most beautiful shade of blue in his eyes.

“go back to sleep.” he whispers.

“‘m not sleepy anymore.” you mumble as you rub your eyes, which rafe finds captivating. “hi.”

“hi,” he smiles. “you only slept for three hours, sleep some more.” he insists, and you feel a tone of concern in his voice, but maybe it’s just your sleep giving you that impression.

“i’m okay, rafey.”

rafey. he hates that stupid nickname, but when it comes out of your mouth, he wants to legally change his name to it.

“you’re gonna be tired.”

“no, i’m not. i don’t normally sleep a lot.”

rafe frowns not because he’s confused - he obviously isn’t. he’s just not liking what you’re saying. he doesn’t like the idea of you struggling with whatever that may be. rafe knows damn well how bad it is to be sleep deprived, he doesn’t want you going through that.

“you have insomnia?”

“i guess i do,” you shrug. “i don’t really know. i just don’t sleep a lot. i wish i did, though. i get so jealous when i see you sleeping for hours on end.” you smile sweetly at him. “you’re so relaxed. must be nice…”

you let go of rafe after leaving a timid kiss on his lips, and stretch before getting up and going to his bathroom to start your morning routine.

after a quiet breakfast, rafe gives you a ride home, and he can’t hide his concern about what you said.

“i’ll see you around, yeah?” you tell him, with the sweetest smile you always have.

“of course. uh, about that sleep thing… if you need help with that… i’m here.”

“rafe, i think you might be a sex addict.” you joke, really not understanding what he meant. he isn’t talking about sex. the one time he isn’t talking about sex, you don’t get it.

“well, i’m just one call away.”

you chuckle and intend to kiss his cheek, but rafe is quick enough to turn his face and make you kiss his lips. you laugh at his antics.

silly rafe is your favorite. if only other people got to see this side of him.

he watches you leave his car and get inside your home. the strange feeling of loneliness comes back almost immediately, but it gets him thinking. it has to be some sort of irony that the person that quite literally helps him sleep isn’t sleeping.

(...)

only two days have passed and rafe already needs you to spend the night at his house again. he is so tired and exhausted. he takes out his phone and quickly types a message.

rafe: are u busy right now? can i pick u up?

you don’t tend to take long to respond to his texts, but this time, an hour goes by and nothing, so rafe starts to feel that unbearable anguish again, and starts to think that you left him and that you found someone better to spend you time with.

impulsively, rafe facetimes you, and you answer. from your face alone, he can see the tiredness in your eyes. or rather, in your dark circles. you’re in your bedroom, which makes him feel calmer.

“hi, rafey. sorry, i just got my phone.”

“what are you doing?”

“i’m studying for my exams.”

“i just wanted to know if i could pick you up.”

“i’d love to,” you smile. “but it’s not a good idea, i need to study and i have a mountain of books to read until tomorrow if i want a good grade, which i do.”

“you’re tired, you should rest.” he advises, visibly worried.

“nothing a can of red bull can’t fix.” you say showing him the can.

“y/n, please go to sleep.”

something about his request makes you angry. maybe it’s the stress, or the fact that this time rafe is right.

“rafe, you’re not my boss. i need to hang up, i got shit to do.”

before he can protest, you hang up the call, and surprisingly, rafe doesn’t get angry. this is what it’s like when he’s sleep deprived.

as always, rafe wants to take control of the situation, so he puts on a hoodie, grabs his car keys and leaves his house to go to yours. it’s late at night, and rafe knows your parents are probably asleep.

the path is short, and soon he arrives in front of your house and the light is on in your bedroom, which tells him that you are still up. carefully, rafe gets out of his car and walks to the back of your residence, and climbs the wall, always making sure he doesn’t get caught by anyone. finally, rafe gets on the small balcony of your room and sees you surrounded by papers, books and notebooks. it’s a mess.

he knocks on the glass door, which startles you, but you soon calm down when you see it’s him. you almost run to open the door, but your face isn’t the happiest.

“what are you doing here, rafe?”

“nice to see you, too.” he ironizes as he steps inside your bedroom. “i have a proposition for you.”

“i’m so not in the mood, rafe…”

“listen to me.” he says. “i’ll… i’ll help you out with this stuff, as long as you let me help you sleep.”

“i don’t wanna have sex.”

“i’m not talking about sex.”

oh.

“you mean… sleep? like, really sleep?”

“yeah. i don’t like that you sleep so little. you’re becoming cranky.”

you chuckle at the last bit. you can’t stay mad at him, can you?

“that’s a nice offer, rafe, but what do you know about biology?”

“i’ll have you know i was a good student.” he pouts and you laugh. “even if i don’t know what you’re studying, i’ll help you out.”

it takes you a few seconds, but it’s decided. your body is about to give out, you really need to rest. you can’t absorb any more information. a good sleep might even help you learn whatever you need.

“okay.”

rafe smiles and it might be the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen.

you begin to organize all your notes and books on your desk and rafe begins to undress down to his underwear, and gets comfortable on your bed. he realizes this is his first time sleeping on your bed, and he already likes the faint smell of rosemary that your bedroom exudes.

you have such a pretty bedroom. the walls are painted in the softest shade of blue, and you have books everywhere. no wonder you’re so smart, you read a lot.

the wooden furniture gives an earthy feel to your room, contrasting with the delicacy of the light blue walls. in the photos of the small mural on the wall, rafe realizes that he wanted to be there, present in the photos, and maybe, in a photo with you. you are always smiling and being hugged by someone, or hugging them. you are like that, you are magnetic.

you finish organizing your things and quickly change into a shirt of rafe’s that you hope he doesn’t recognize. it’s big and comfortable, and it makes you feel close to him when he’s far away.

the lamp next to your bed is on, so you turn off the main light in your room and go to your bed, meeting rafe, and he has the smallest smile on his lips. it’s ironic how having sex and being naked doesn’t feel as intimate as simply sleeping together does.

“are your parents home?” he asks.

“no, why?”

“so i could have come through the door, huh.”

“yeah.” you laugh.

a brief moment of silence sits between you two, as you’re staring at each other’s eyes. rafe is mesmerized and terrified at the same time. this - whatever this is - feels so nice and so foreign. he knows damn well he isn’t one to want to just sleep with someone, let alone climb up a wall to just sleep with someone.

rafe cameron is in love, and he is utterly terrified.

“what are you thinking?” you ask in a whisper.

your blinks are getting slower and slower. rafe begins to run his hand through your hair, combing them back, and touching the skin of your neck and shoulders ever so softly.

thinking about how much i want to be with you and how fucking scared i am.

“nothin’. close your eyes.”

you do, not because he told you to, but because you couldn’t keep them open any longer. 

why do you feel the safest with someone as dangerous as rafe cameron? someone who deals with the shadiest people around, that has anger issues and violent behavior.

that tried to drown his own sister.

why none of that matters when you’re in his arms? are you actually insane?

probably.

(...)

as soon as you wake up, you see your bed empty, and rafe’s clothes are no longer on the floor, where he had left them last night. it was to be expected, but you still feel disappointed. he was so sweet last night.

when you look at the clock, it’s already past nine in the morning, which means you’ve slept, surprisingly, eight hours straight. damn, you really were sleep deprived.

the sound of your stomach begging for food makes you get out of bed.

when you leave your bedroom, you hear the sound of the tv on and get scared. slowly, without making any noise, you go down the stairs, trying to find out if your house has been invaded, but it would be strange, as it is daytime. soon you see rafe walking around your house.

he didn’t leave?

it’s like you’re not even there. you get to watch rafe make himself comfortable in your kitchen, looking for stuff to put on the table. there are two delivery bags on the counter, which means he bought food, but the gesture warms your heart, which was merely shattered.

“the cutlery is in the second drawer next to the sink.” you say, startling him a bit.

“jesus. can you, i don’t know, announce you’re in the room? i almost dropped your coffee.”

you laugh.

“sorry, rafey. what are you doing, i thought you had left.”

“uh, i bought breakfast for y- us.” he says. you look inside the bags and you can tell he ordered possibly everything you have eaten from that place. “c’mon, i ordered that vegan shit you like, your coffee and even a pretzel.”

you follow him to the table and you both begin helping yourselves. this isn’t your first time having breakfast with him, but it does feel like it’s a first.

for the first time, you don’t want to leave him.

i love feedback! let me know your thoughts! <3

[winterrrnight]

reader x bsf!rafe when they have a small argument but make up with lots of cuddles :((

oh saying I’m in love is an understatement. I could NOT come up with any idea on what the argument can be about so I’m so sorry if this feels so vague 😭😭 imagine whatever you want LOL

bsf!rafe who just cannot see you mad… <3 listen to dreams, fairytales, fantasies by a$ap ferg, brent faiyaz & salaam remi, I heard it on repeat while writing this hehe <3 cw: suggestive content (no actual smut!), lots and lots of tension between them (when is it not there?!) <3 for: @viawritesstuff (I love you to the moon and back ml 🤍) <3 pictures are only for reference!

part of this little universe <3

“Oh come on I said I was sorry!” Rafe sighs as he follows your footsteps, as you’re rushing up the stairs of Tanneyhill. You don’t say anything, just quietly rush up the stairs with your back to him as he keeps on following you, him right at your heels.

“Come on, you know I’m sorry,” he sighs as he sees you enter his room. You’re about to close the door right at his face, but he jams his foot in at the right moment, causing the door to be just slightly ajar. You shut your eyes close and intake a deep breath, your back still facing him as you realise the door didn’t close properly.

You’re standing in the middle of the room, your body tensed and Rafe just simply watches you as he leans against the doorframe. The warm rays of the sunset outside glow inside his room through the flimsy, white curtains. He takes a deep breath and enters inside silently, letting the door close with a soft click. With hushed steps he makes his way to you, standing right behind you. You can feel him breath down on your neck, the warm air causing the hair behind your neck to stand up.

“Hey…” he whispers softly, one of his hands coming up to gently graze across your side. “Listen to me, yeah?” He breathes into the side of your ear, his lips subtly skimming across the shell of your ear. He can’t exactly see your expression, but god, if he can, he’ll see just how your breath is caught in your throat, your eyes fluttering momentarily.

“You know I didn’t mean any of it that way yeah?” He whispers, both of his hands now gently grazing your sides, his touch now becoming more firm, more… present. “I could never say anything like that to you and you know that…”

His arms now wrap firmly around your waist, and you can feel him gently pull you closer to him, your back now pressing firmly against his chest. He moves his head to the side of your face, resting his chin on your shoulder, his cheek pressing against your hair. He takes a deep inhale, letting his eyes close for a moment as he lets the scent of your shampoo and your perfume fill his senses and devour his mind completely.

You ever so subtly lean your head in the other direction, letting him rest his head comfortably on your shoulder. Your hands land on top of his; which are resting right on top of your stomach.

“Can never upset my favorite girl hm?” He whispers, pressing a soft kiss on the side of your head. “Can never see her sad… can never let her ever be upset with me…” he continues to softly coo in your ear. He slowly trails his lips down from your temple to the side of your neck, hovering over the soft skin for a moment.

“The…” kiss “sweetest…” kiss “girl…” kiss “ever...” kiss

His voice is reduced to dulcet tones, his kisses velvety against your skin. A soft gasp leaves your lips as the repetitive kisses are layered across your skin, your body automatically leaning back into him. Rafe brings his hands to the sides of your waist and gently turns you around so you are facing him.

Your eyes sink into his soft, blue ones, your mind starting to feel just a bit dizzy from the slightly amorous bubble you’re both fitted into.

Rafe only softly smiles at you as he lets his fingers slip into yours, your hands intertwining tightly as he leads you to his bed. He helps you sit down, and starts to take off your jacket, pulling down the zipper. You move your hand to remove it yourself, but he gently pushes your hand aside, saying something about how he’s making up to you right now. He takes the jacket off you, draping it on the back of his desk chair. He gets down on his knees and carefully takes your shoes off, gently placing them at the side of the bed. With a gentle push on your shoulders, he lets you lay down in his bed, covering you with the duvet.

He himself takes his own jacket and shoes off, and slips under the duvet next to you. He’s quick to let his arms wrap around your waist again, pulling your head onto his chest.

“You forgive me yeah?” He whispers softly, your own arm draping across his torso as you get comfortable against him.

“Yeah…” you mumble, nodding against his chest as you nuzzle your face into his chest. He smiles softly, pressing a kiss to your forehead. His fingers gently thread to your hair, causing your eyelids to get heavier with each moment.

“My sweet girl…” is the last thing you hear him whisper to you before you’re pulled into a deep slumber.

— —

send me any of your thoughts for this specific universe if you have any! <3

[yourlocaljonghoe]

Dear Officer. || Bang Chan.

Summary: who would've thought that the man upholding justice himself secretly likes being handcuffed just like the criminals he catches everyday...

Pairing: police officer!bang chan x secretary!reader

Genre: smut (mdni)

Wordcount: 3.7k

Warnings: porn with very little plot, dom!reader x sub!chan, handcuffed chan, piv, unprotected sex (don't do that fellas), teasing, soft ending

A/N: is this my skz debut?! yes, yes it is. idk if ill ever post more of them tbh, i do have a few more ideas but am still a bit hesitant, but i wrote this impulsively at 4am after fantasizing about police officer chan for weeks so here it is lol. enjoy and maybe we'll see each other again in the future stays🤭 biggest thank you to @ja3hwa for beta reading this, ily🥺 & as always divider credits to @firefly-graphics!

Taglist: @ghstzzn, @kyukyustar, @hwapetals, @foxinnie8, @preciouswoozi, @aussiekpopginger, @kitten4sannie, @hanjisungs-bigtittyg0thgf

Available here on Ao3.

You loved working as a secretary at your town's police department. While you, of course, weren't directly involved in keeping the peace and catching criminals, it still felt like your work was a good deed to society. 

And, maybe, there was another reason as well.

Maybe.

You glanced up, scanning the bustling room, and there he was - Officer Bang. His uniform hugged his broad shoulders perfectly, and as he chatted with a colleague, that dimpled smile you couldn’t get enough of, made your heart skip a beat. You forced your gaze back to the screen, but your thoughts lingered on him.

What can you say? You were a simple woman, and this man may be another reason why you enjoyed your job here.

Every day, you caught yourself stealing glances, admiring the way he carried himself with such effortless confidence. He was kind to everyone, always lending a hand or offering a comforting word, but it was more than that. There was something about him - maybe it was the way his smile reached his eyes, or how his laugh sounded like a soothing melody - that made him this irresistible.

It had become routine, this quiet longing. You’d never dared to make a move, content with these innocent crushes that never seemed to go anywhere. 

A man like him, deeply respected by his colleagues and desired by many, would never be interested in you… right?

The day had dragged on, seemingly without ever wanting to end, but now the usual rhythm of the police department was slowing down as night fell. Most of the officers and other secretaries had already left, the station growing quieter with each passing hour. Unfortunately for you, you had to finish up some last-minute paperwork, and so, at almost midnight, you were the only one still in the building.

Or so you thought.

You stretched in your chair, glancing at the clock. It was late, and you considered calling it a night when a soft noise caught your attention. The sound came from down the hall, in the direction of Officer Bang's office. Curiosity tugged at you. He… hadn’t left yet?

You stood up, slowly moving towards the source of the sound. The closer you got, the louder and clearer it became - what you were hearing was a man's voice, letting out a low, throaty groan. You paused outside his door, your hand hovering over the handle, unsure of what to do next. The door was slightly ajar, and through the small crack, you could see him.

It was probably the prettiest thing you'd ever seen.

Chan was sitting at his desk, the room dimly lit by the small lamp on his desk. He was still in his uniform, but something was… different. 

His hands were cuffed together in front of him. 

The sight alone made your breath hitch, but what really took you by surprise was the state he was in. His head was thrown back, eyes closed, and his chest heaved with ragged breaths. You followed his gaze downward, your eyes widening as you noticed the strain in his pants, the hard outline of his erection clearly visible.

What the hell was going on, and why were you not running away from it?

You were completely frozen, every instinct telling you to turn around, to leave before you were caught, but your feet remained rooted to the spot. Your pulse quickened, heart thudding in your chest as you took in the scene. There was something raw and intoxicating about seeing him like this - so vulnerable, so unlike the composed and confident officer you and everyone else were used to.

He shifted slightly, another groan escaping his lips, and you felt a surge of heat rush through you. You shouldn't be watching this. Yet, you also couldn't look away. There was something about seeing him in those handcuffs - the very thing he used to capture countless criminals with - that sent a shiver down your spine. And then, almost as if sensing your presence, his eyes fluttered open, meeting yours through the crack in the door.

Time seemed to stop as your gazes locked. His eyes widened in surprise, but he didn't move, didn't say a single word. The room was completely silent, the air was thick with unspoken tension. You knew you should leave, but the way he was looking at you - with a mix of shock and something else, something darker - made it impossible to move.

Finally, he spoke, his voice low and rough, “What are you doing here?”

You swallowed hard, your mind scrambling for an answer, but all you could think about was the fact that you'd been caught - and how much you liked what you saw.

“I-I’m so, so sorry… I-I didn’t mean to-” Your voice faltered, catching in your throat as your eyes betrayed you, still lingering on the prominent bulge in his pants. You knew you shouldn’t be looking, but you couldn’t help it. 

The sight of him like this was overwhelming, and you gasped as you laid eyes on his crotch again. You couldn't even see him in his full glory, but holy fucking shit, what you saw made you clench your thighs, wetness pooling in between them.

Officer Christopher Bang had a long, thick cock, and it drove you insane.

Chan’s breath hitched, his gaze never leaving yours while you shamelessly ogled at him, and you saw something flicker in his eyes - desire. He shifted in his chair again, the movement making the handcuffs jingle softly, reminding you of the restraints that still bound his wrists. You swallowed hard, torn between your instincts to flee and the undeniable desire  to stay.

Your thoughts were full of him, and something else; your newfound need to dominate this man who was so helpless in front of you.

“You’re… not supposed to be here,” he said.

But instead of pulling away, you found yourself taking a tentative step closer. “I… I couldn’t help it,” you whispered, the words escaping before you could think them through. Your eyes flitted back up to his face, searching for any sign of discomfort, but all you saw was the same need and lust mirrored in his expression. The tension in the room crackled like electricity, drawing you closer until you were standing right in front of him.

His eyes darkened as they roamed over you, and you could feel the intensity of his gaze like a physical touch. “You shouldn’t be looking at me like that,” he murmured, but there was no conviction in his voice. His words hung in the air between you, a weak attempt to maintain control, but the way his breath quickened told you otherwise.

You were the one in control, and the man looking up at you knew that. And didn't seem to mind at all.

You hesitated for a second. But as your eyes dipped down to his lap, where his erection strained against the fabric of his pants, you lost your inner battle with your conscience. All you could think about was how badly you wanted to see him fully, to run your fingers along his length, to feel the weight of him in your hand…

To dominate the man who usually dominates everyone else.

“I-” you started hesitantly, but before you could finish, his handcuffed hands reached out, fingers curling gently around your wrist. The cool metal of the cuffs brushed against your skin, sending a shiver up your spine.

“If you stay,” Chan said, his voice low and husky, “there’s no going back. You have the chance to do everything you want to me now, or you can turn around and we pretend nothing ever happened.” 

His grip on your wrist tightened just enough to make your pulse race, his eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that made it hard for you to breathe.

You knew what he was saying, and the weight of the decision hung heavy in the air. But the heat between you, the need that had been building ever since you first laid eyes on him, was too strong to ignore.

And as you slowly nodded, stepping even closer, you knew you were already lost.

Chan’s breath hitched, and you could see the way his pupils dilated, his dark eyes full of want and need. 

The sudden shift in power, the way your shy demeanour got more and more confident with each step you took, had him completely under your spell, and you revelled in the effect you were having on him.

“Such a big man with such a big cock, and yet he likes being dominated…” you mused, your voice dripping with teasing confidence. The smirk on your lips deepened as you ran a finger slowly down the length of his chest, feeling the rapid beat of his heart beneath your touch. “I’m learning something new about you every day, Officer. And I definitely like it.”

He let out a low, shaky breath, his muscles tensing as you continued to toy with him. His hands, still bound by the cuffs, flexed helplessly in his lap, a reminder of just how vulnerable he was in this very moment. You could see how much he was enjoying it, with his eyes rolling back and his mouth agape.

“Do you like it?” you asked, your voice dropping to a whisper as you leaned in closer, your lips hovering just above his. “Do you like the idea of being dominated by someone who knows exactly what you want? Someone who can take control and make you beg for more?”

He swallowed hard, his breath coming in shallow pants now, and you could feel the tension radiating off him in waves. “Y-yes…” he finally murmured, “I like it. L-like it so much.”

His admission made you feel o’ so powerful, your smirk steadily growing as you brushed your lips against his, teasing him with a taste of what he wanted so badly. “Good,” you purred, your voice laced with satisfaction. “Because I’m just getting started.”

A quiet, pathetic whimper left his plump, delicious lips. 

“You want to touch me, Officer?” You taunted, your voice dripping with mocking sweetness. “Too bad. You can’t.” Your laughter echoed softly in the quiet room, a sound that sent a shiver down his spine. The power dynamic between you was intoxicating, something entirely new to you. 

And you absolutely loved it. 

Your control over this man was absolute.

His erection visibly strained against his pants, and you could feel it twitch as you shifted in his lap, rubbing yourself against him with deliberate thrusts. His breath came in ragged gasps, the sensation clearly overwhelming him. You watched him, his eyes glazed with lust, and you could see the frustration building in him, the desperation to touch you, to take control, to do anything but sit there, helpless.

You just laughed at his fruitless attempts.

“But I can,” you continued, your tone darkening as you leaned in closer, your lips brushing against the shell of his ear, biting down harshly. “And I won’t be kind.”

Before he could respond, you shifted your weight and, with a swift, calculated movement, drove your knee straight into his crotch. The impact was hard, sudden, and precise. A strangled gasp left his lips, his body jerking beneath you as pain and pleasure collided in his expression. His hips bucked involuntarily, the shock of the blow mixing with the overwhelming arousal that had been building between the two of you.

Chan’s head fell back against the chair, a low groan escaping his lips as he tried to regain control of his breathing. His eyes were half-lidded, a mix of pain and raw desire flickering in them. The way he looked at you, even through the discomfort, was almost worshipful - completely at your mercy and loving every second of it, just like you.

“You like that, don’t you?” You whispered, your voice tinged with satisfaction as you watched him struggle to process the sensations. “Being completely helpless, unable to do anything but take what I give you… I bet you’ve never been treated like this before, have you, Officer?”

Chan shook his head, his breath coming in shallow, ragged gasps. “N-no,” he managed to rasp, his voice hoarse but laced with a dark, eager hunger. The way he looked at you, eyes filled with nothing but sheer, desperate desire, only fueled the fire within you.

“Good,” you said, leaning in to press a searing kiss to his lips, feeling his body tremble beneath you. “Because this is only the beginning.”

Your kiss deepened, and you relished in the sensation of his soft lips against yours, his low moans vibrating through you. As your hands trailed down his body, finding their way under his uniform, you could feel the heat radiating off his skin and his muscles tensing beneath your touch. The power you had over him was driving you wild, and you yearned for him to finally be inside you.

As you continued to tease him, your fingers eventually found the buckle of his belt. With deliberate and slow movements, you finally undid it, enjoying the way his breath hitched in anticipation. His eyes were fully locked onto yours, his pupils blown wide with desire, his lips slightly parted as he watched you with an intensity that made your pulse race and your pussy clench.

You unzipped his pants, feeling the heat of his erection through the fabric of his boxers. Your hand slipped inside, brushing against him, and he let out a strangled moan, his hips jerking involuntarily toward your touch.

“Please,” he whispered, all whiny and desperate. For you.

His voice sent a shiver down your spine. 

You did this to him. You made this strong, gorgeous man who could overpower you anytime he wanted if he weren't handcuffed right now this hard, this needy. 

What an incredible fucking feeling that was.

You gave him a teasing squeeze, eliciting another whimper from him, before finally pulling him free of his pants.

You couldn't help but admire him for a moment, your hand wrapped around his thick length, feeling the weight of him. He was everything you had imagined and more. And the way he looked at you, like you held the world in your hands, only made you want him more.

Without another word, you pulled your skirt up and your underwear to the side so that he had a direct view of your wetness, and then, slowly, you lowered yourself onto him, taking him inch by agonising inch. The sensation of his big cock filling you was overwhelming; your breath catching in your throat as you had to adjust to him for a moment. And then you began to move. 

His heavy balls were slapping against your ass as you bounced up and down, again and again, while Chan was completely helpless beneath you, his hands still cuffed, his body straining with the effort to stay still. His eyes never left yours, watching every movement, every little expression on your face, as you rode him like your life depended on it. 

For the first time in your entire sex life, you were the one setting the pace, slow and teasing at first, moaning as his pelvis teased your clit with each thrust. But as the pleasure built within you, your movements became more frantic, driven by a need that matched his own.

The tension that had been building between you both reached its peak, and with one final, shuddering thrust, you both came undone. White, sticky cum filled you, mixing with your own juices, and you moaned at the sensation. The world seemed to stand still entirely, leaving only the two of you tangled together in the aftermath of your release.

You collapsed against him, both of you breathing heavily, your heart still racing from the intensity of it all. Chan's hands were still cuffed, but he managed to brush his lips against your forehead in a gentle, tender gesture that made your heart swell with something warm and unfamiliar.

As the haze of passion began to fade, reality started to sink in, and you suddenly felt a rush of embarrassment.

What the hell had just possessed you?!

You slowly untangled yourself from him, avoiding his gaze as you reached for the key to his cuffs that were lying on the desk. Your hands trembled slightly as you unlocked them, the click of the metal echoing in the now-quiet room.

When Chan's hands were free, you fully expected him to do something, anything, to take back the control he'd lost. But instead, he remained still, his eyes soft and full of something you couldn't quite place. He reached out, gently cupping your cheek, his thumb brushing over your skin in a soothing motion.

“Are you okay?” he asked, his voice tender and filled with concern.

The question caught you off guard, and you felt your cheeks flush. "I… I'm so embarrassed," you said, hiding your face behind your hands.

Chan smiled, that dimpled smile you loved so, so much, but there was something different about it now. It was warm, reassuring, and entirely genuine. “You were amazing. There's no need to feel shy now,” he murmured, leaning in to press a soft kiss to your lips. “You have no idea how much I enjoyed that.”

His words made your heart skip a beat, and you felt a wave of relief wash over you. But still, you hid your face in his neck, in the hope he wouldn't look at you again. “I just… I’ve never done anything like that before. I didn't.. I didn't even know I could do that, or would want to do that,” you confessed.

He wrapped his arms around you, holding you close against his chest. “You don’t have to be embarrassed,” he whispered into your hair, his voice laced with affection. “I loved every second of it. You have nothing to be self-conscious about.”

Once again, you buried your face in his shoulder, feeling the warmth of his embrace soothe your nerves. His arms around you were comforting, his touch gentle, and for a moment, you allowed yourself to simply enjoy the feeling of being close to him.

Until he shifted slightly underneath you, and you hissed as his pants moved roughly against your centre.

“Shit, are you okay? Are you hurt?” He immediately asked, his doe eyes looking down at you, full of worry.

“Y-yeah, I'm fine. Just… a bit sore. I didn't really… prep myself for you,” you mumbled shyly.

Chan's features softened into a warm smile as he brushed a strand of hair away from your face, his hands gently caressing your back as he pressed a soft kiss to the top of your head. “I’m sorry, I should’ve been more careful,” he said, his voice full of genuine remorse. “You didn’t have to push yourself so hard.”

You shook your head, lifting your gaze to meet his. “No, no… I wanted to. Every bit of it. You were perfect. I just… didn’t expect you to be so… big.” You flushed again, feeling heat creep up your neck.

He chuckled softly, the sound reverberating through his chest, but his expression was still tender. “We could’ve taken it slower. I’m not going anywhere, you know. There’s no rush.”

The sincerity in his voice made your heart swell, and you found yourself relaxing in his arms. The initial embarrassment began to melt away, replaced by a comforting warmth. “I guess I got a little carried away,” you admitted with a small smile.

Chan’s eyes sparkled with affection as he leaned in, brushing his lips against yours in a gentle, lingering kiss. “I’m glad you did,” he whispered against your lips, his breath warm and sweet. 

“You… you've always been the one thing I couldn’t get out of my head, you know? I’ve been trying so hard to be professional, to keep my feelings in check, but you... you make it so difficult.”

The idea that he’d been harbouring feelings for you all this time, just like you had for him, was so surreal to you, but it made your heart flutter nonetheless. “You’re really saying you’ve been interested in me too?” you asked, your voice tinged with disbelief.

Chan chuckled softly, shaking his head in amusement. “Interested is an understatement. I’ve been crazy about you since the day you walked into this department.” His thumb brushed gently against your cheek, his eyes filled with a gentleness that made you squirm in his lap. “But I didn’t want to cross any boundaries or make you uncomfortable.”

“I had no idea,” you whispered, your heart swelling with warmth. “I’ve felt the same way, but I never thought you’d be… interested in someone like me.”

Chan’s eyes widened in surprise. “How could I not be? You’re amazing. You’re smart, kind, and... absolutely beautiful. I've wanted you for a long, long time, Y/N. Just… promise me one thing, okay?”

“What is it?”

“Next time, we’ll take our time. I'll take care of you and make sure you're fully ready to take me, okay? I want to savour every moment with you. I don't want you to be in any pain afterwards.”

The mention of a “next time” made your heart flutter, and you couldn’t help but smile from ear to ear. “I’d like that,” you whispered back, your voice soft and sincere. “I'd like that a lot.”

You felt his strong arms tighten around you, pulling you even closer, as he rested his chin on top of your head. The steady rhythm of his heartbeat was soothing, and you allowed yourself to fully relax in his embrace, closing your eyes and listening to his breathing. 

After a long, comforting silence, you were the one breaking the silence this time. 

“Hey… uhm. Can I ask a favour from you, Chan?”

He hummed. “Whatever you want.”

“Can you… take care of me, like… right now?”

He laughed, a loud and deep sound shaking his entire body, and you hit him playfully as your whole face lit up in embarrassment. 

“God, you're irresistible,” he said, a smirk adorning his handsome face as he kissed you softly. 

“And horny,” you added.

“And horny,” he repeated, swooping you up in his arms and gently spinning you around, “But don't worry. Officer Bang is here to take care of you.”

“You truly are the people's friend and helper,” you chuckled. He shook his head, still smiling at you with nothing but fondness. 

“Nah. Fuck the people. M’ just here to take care of you right now.” 

[devildom-moss]

LOVE your works !!!!!! i adore how everytime u write, it just kind of turns into a very subtle character study (at least that's what i'm getting) it's vvv nice and the kind of writing im into <33

it's gmt for me so idk if i'm way past the cut off and this might be an odd request btw but a reader refusing lucifer and belphie's offer of a pact after yk... everything lol. it's up to u if the reader eventually accepts but i want it to hurt 🤌🏻

Thank you so much, that's so sweet. I hope you will see your request since I'm taking so long, and I hope you like it. I hope its got enough angst and hurt. I think they have two different types of hurt in it. Lucifer's has more of his pain and Belphie's has more of the reader's pain.

Rejecting their pact offers

(Lucifer x gn!MC) (Belphegor x gn!MC)

(Slightly suggestive for Belphegor) (angst) (hurt; pain; implied physical and emotion harm to reader; slight yandere!Belphegor; Belphie is really creepy in this with some non-consent elements regarding touching/kissing)

Word Count: +2,000

Lucifer

You dreaded spending time alone with Lucifer, so you were displeased to receive a message from him – and even more unhappy that it had arrived, coincidentally, just as you had finished your assignment, when you were looking forward to being able to unwind. Your hopeful plans were crushed by an arrogant invite:

Lucifer: Meet me in my study once you’re free. Alone. Don’t keep me waiting.

Your first instinct was to pretend that you were busy all night and didn’t have time for whatever he wanted, but you knew you wouldn’t enjoy your night if you were constantly on guard and worried about your leisure being interrupted. You could pretend you didn’t read it – after all, you turned your read receipts off specifically because of Lucifer. You could wash up and head straight to bed, sacrificing your free time for the sake of avoiding Lucifer. But avoiding him would only result in his nagging the following morning, and he had already ruined your night, so you might as well safeguard your morning peace by appeasing him. Hopefully whatever he wanted would be quick and painless. With a sigh, you reluctantly dragged yourself in the direction of his study.

You knocked at the door despite it being open ajar.

“MC, please enter,” Lucifer spoke up. He knew it was you; his brothers never knocked. You heard the shuffling of paper and the creaking of his desk chair as you opened the door fully. “You’re slightly earlier than I expected. I’m glad to know that your studies are not giving you any trouble – or at least, I suspect that’s why you’re here so soon.”

“Yeah,” you answered him shortly. He seemed flustered by your presence – which would be entertaining outside of the current situation. You stood in the doorway, watching Lucifer collect his papers and tidy his workspace before walking over. His looming figure inched closer, but you stood your ground. “Did you need something from me, Lucifer?”

“Right. Please take a seat. Can I pour you a glass of Demonus? I’ve acquired a new bottle from Diavolo, and I’ve been looking forward to trying it. I’d like to open it with you.” Lucifer walked over to his bar; pulled a bottle from the very back of the top shelf, hidden behind a taxidermy raven; and grabbed two clean glasses.

“No thank you. I’m fine.”

“Oh.” The sound left him so quietly, you weren’t certain he had intended for you to hear it. He put one of the glasses back, hoping you wouldn’t notice, and poured himself a drink. “Suit yourself.”

“Was that all?” Your eyes wandered the room. You hadn’t been in here for a while, and the last time was not particularly ideal.

“Of course not!” Lucifer looked away indignantly. “I wouldn’t call you to my study just for a drink. I have something important to discuss.”

“Alright.”

Lucifer took a sip of his drink before speaking again; his subtle delays – the slow draining of your time and patience – annoyed you. “You’ve impressed me over the last few months, and you’ve managed to make pacts with each of my brothers. I believe you’ve proven yourself worthy of a pact with me. That is, so long as we make one thing clear: if we form a pact, I own you. I don’t care who else you’re entangled with, you’ll be mine.”

“No. I’m good.” You shook your head to accentuate your response.

“What?” Every muscle in Lucifer’s body tightened, and the glass in his hand formed a superficial crack. His eyes widened. Shock and anger fed off each other as Lucifer sat there speechless.

“I don’t trust you,” you admitted. Somehow, you were thrilled to finally have the opportunity to tell Lucifer how you truly felt.

“After everything we’ve been through together?” Lucifer scoffed. He thought he had proven himself to you. He’d come so far since the last time he had tried to hurt you. He thought you were both past this – that you meant more to each other by now.

“No, Lucifer, after everything you did to me.” You sat up from the chair, rage rising with you. You had done nothing but try to help him and his family, and he had done nothing but hurt you. Even when he had saved you, it was usually for his own selfish reasons. By the time he had developed this strange infatuation with you, you had no trust left to give him. You had no foreseeable interest in furthering a relationship with him – especially not after the pompous way he asked you.

“MC, please, be reasonable. You know very well why I reacted the way I did at the time. You’re a part of my family now,” Lucifer pleaded with you desperately, trying to show you his version of reason. He grabbed your wrist and clung to you tightly, afraid to let you leave. “I won’t hurt you like that again. I promise. I adore you much too much.”

“Lucifer,” you half-sighed, half-winced, “let go. You’re hurting me right now.”

“I’m sorry,” Lucifer apologized. He quickly let go of you and brought his hand back to his chest, wide-eyed and terrified. “Please. . . I’ve never offered this to a human before.”

You could hear the heartbreak in his voice, it trembled on his vocal cords and shook his breath. It was his last resort to persuade you: to show you that he had never been this vulnerable, and he didn’t know how to handle your rejection. You knew he needed you to accept his offer – or at least consider it. Anything except rejection would be survivable.

“Please?” Lucifer begged softly; his cheeks flushed with shame.

“Just because I’m your first and you might have changed, it doesn’t mean I have to accept your offer.”

Belphegor

You could have sworn that you had locked your door before heading to bed last night – and no one could blame you for still feeling a bit cautious after the events that occurred a few weeks ago. Yet, you were disturbed by the creaking of your bedroom door – if it hadn’t been unlocked before, it certainly was now. The soft shuffle of exhausted demon feet creeped towards your bed. You gulped and inched closer to the wall, hoping your eyes would adjust, and you would see Mammon. Maybe he had a nightmare. Or maybe it was Asmo, and he was lonely. Maybe Beel got lost on his way back from the kitchen – and hopefully not on his way towards the kitchen.

“Sleepy,” a soft voice muttered, and your hope plummeted. Fear spiked, prickling up your spine as you felt Belphegor crawl into bed next to you. His hands pat the bed gently, searching for your body, feeling for your warmth. He whined, “MC, hold me.”

“Sleep in your own bed, please.” You tried to sound firm, but your voice trembled at the last word. Maybe it was fear, but maybe your own lips could hardly stomach the thought of begging a demon like Belphegor to let you sleep in peace. After everything he did, why did he think he had the right to break into your room in the middle of the night and crawl into your bed?

“Too far now, and I want to sleep with you.”

Against your will, Belphie wrapped his arms around you and pulled you close, resting his head on your shoulder. He nuzzled into you, taking in your scent with a deep, calm inhale. A gentle hum left him.

It was infuriating, the way he relaxed against you while your body tensed with an overflow of negative emotions: anger, annoyance, anxiety. It wasn’t fair that he could drift peacefully to sleep, clinging to you, after everything he did. You wished he would stop – that he would let you go and return to his room, shutting the door on his way out. You’d make sure it was locked this time; you’d double check it and put a curse on it if you had to.

“I was thinking,” Belphegor hummed mindlessly without even opening his eyes. He practically sounded happy. “We should make a pact.”

Your blood boiled, and you stared at his restful form in the dark. “No, Belphegor. I don’t want a pact with you.”

“Why not?” he started, eyes shooting open to stare at you in disbelief for a brief moment before he remembered. He lowered his eyes and attempted to bury his face against your arm. “Don’t answer that.”

“You know why.” There was spite in your words – so bitter that Belphegor couldn’t ignore it even if he wanted to.

Suddenly he felt he had to do something, and before you could understand what was happening, Belphie had tackled you, pinning your hands down at your sides and straddling your lap. The dim glow of his amethyst eyes soaked up all the light in the room when he stared down at you. His grip on your hands wasn’t tight, but a familiar fear clawed at your throat, cutting back your desire to protest.

“Hush. Relax. I’m not a threat anymore. I love you. I want you. For fuck’s sake, if I was going to hurt you again, I would have done it already, so please, please don’t be scared. I need you. Come on, accept a pact with me, please?” The light from his eyes disappeared from your sight as he dipped down. You felt him kiss up your neck lazily, his warm breath tickling your skin. From anyone else, this might have felt loving and affectionate, but from Belphegor, it seemed cruel – as if he was kissing where his hands might have bruised like some panacea that came too late. “Please? Don’t make me keep begging.”

“Get off!” Your voice came back to you in a frightened yelp, still hushed in the dark of night. You struggled and writhed beneath him. The panic was setting in.

“You’re scared?” Belphie questioned, almost surprised by his effect on you. He pulled back to meet your eyes, but you had them shut tight. “Hey, look at me. I told you I loved you. Don’t be scared.”

“Let me go, Belphegor.” You lifted your arms slightly, only for him to force them back down.

“Form a pact with me,” he insisted. He kissed just above your collarbone, allowing his lips to linger on your skin. “If we had a pact, you could control me. I can feel your pulse pounding; I know you’re scared, but if we make a pact, you’ll never have to be afraid of me again.”

“I’ll scream, Belphegor. I swear,” you warned.

“Shh,” Belphegor let go of one of your hands to cover your mouth. He held your gaze with a delusional sweetness. You felt tears prick the corners of your eyes, praying for someone to barge into your room and end this. Belphegor cooed, “I promise I won’t ever hurt you again. I know that will take time to prove, but I need you now. I need that connection to you. I crave it, and I can’t let my brothers be the only ones to stake their claim on you. And until you want me and trust me, a pact will give you reassurance. You’ll never have to worry about being alone with me. If I act out, I’ll be under your spell – in more ways than one. I just want to keep you safe. Can’t you understand that? Make me yours.”

You knew he had a point about control, but it didn’t make you want him. Still, when he removed his hand from your mouth, the fear and anxiety that remained spoke for you. “. . . Fine.”

“Yay.” Belphie giggled and kissed you sleepily, caressing along your cheek and neck. He hummed and stared down at you, trapped beneath him. With your eyes finally more accustomed to the darkness, you noticed a faint blush on his cheeks as he bit his lower lip. “You know, I’m not so tired anymore. Let’s stay up all night and make the pact more official. I’ll even let you mark me.”

[pinkwright]

if u rlly wanna kiss me | shuri udaku.

ƸӜƷ

pairing — bestfriend!shuri x bar singer!y/n

trope — best friends 2 lovers

inspo — ride the dragon by fka twigs

warnings — shuri’s touchy, dom!shuri, fingering (r!receiving), light choking but also not rlly choking, reader is easily embarrassed (a lil projecting yk), they’re best friends, shuri is a lil mean n condescending, verbal kink (?), humiliation kink (again projection my apologies), slight love kink lol, dirty talk but its sweet imo, n i think that’s it.

a/n — completely forgot about taglists but u can send me an ask to be on it ! for now i'm just tagging the inspos n some of my fav accs <3

⟢˚ @rxcently @saintwrld @shurismainbxtch @playgurlxoxo @verachii @dejaonline @mbakuetshurisprincess @ppawmpkin

ஜ

if you really wanna kiss me, kiss me quickly (do it quickly, do it, do it, do it quickly, do it, do it)

“thank you everyone”, you laugh. your voice rings through the area as the claps ring out, cheers echoing through your favourite bar to perform at. a cheeky smile is spreading across your cheeks and your heart is pumping with adrenaline.

your heart races as you make your way down the stairs, looking into the dark eyes of your best friend as she holds her hand out for you to grasp. “brilliant,” she firmly pulls you close. “as always, s’thandwa.” murmuring the words against the shell of your ear.

the blood rushes to your face, shielded by the depths of the tones of your skin as you flash her a quick shy smile and clear your throat, muttering her thanks under your breath. you let her walk you to your dressing room, exchanging greetings with both familiar and unfamiliar faces, as you take to trying to ignore shuri’s warm firm press on the skin of your lower back.

the soft neo-soul track dampens with the soft click of your dressing room door, and you go to gather your belongings, you stop to reapply your lip gloss and lock eyes with shuri in the mirror. she’s leaning against the door frame, arms crossed across her torso, and you find she’s watching you like a cat does her prey.

“you’re so devastatingly gifted, you know that?” she sings in that low alluring voice of hers. the beating of your heart rings in your ears as her words settle into a tight ball in the depths of your stomach. you can hear yourself giggle nervously as you avert your eyes, muttering out a weak, “stop”, as you put your lip gloss and the last of your stuff in your bag.

shuri laughs softly with a smirk on her pretty lips, pushing off the door as you approach her, “you never could take a compliment.” the roll of your eyes prompts her to laugh louder as she opens the door for you to make your way to her car. the ignition rumbles into a start then she's reversing into the route to your apartment.

she hums softly, embarrassingly, to your own track and you take the opportunity to admire her. shuri’s and your relationship was hard to describe; while traditionally you were best friends – the pet names, the touches, and the way she spoke to you, not to mention the constant tension, all said something completely different. the logical part of you defined it as shuri’s interest in you but the sensing side of yourself denied that idea vehemently – there was just no way the queen of wakanda, the black panther, and quite frankly, the light of your life was in love with you.

“y/n, baby, you good?”

you snap out of your thoughts and find that you’re parked outside of your building. shuri’s dark eyes are intense as they roam over your seated figure and you smile softly, definitely not into you, “yeah, are you coming up tonight?” you blink at the insinuation in your words. opening the door to jump out and keeping it slightly ajar to hear her hum of agreement.

before you can get pulled into your thoughts, your loft apartment door is closing and you're throwing yourself on your couch with a deep sigh. shuri places herself right next to you, her hand sliding over your thigh as she guides your leg over hers. your foot falls between her man-spread legs and she essentially draws you right against her, inadvertently spreading your legs as your head lulls to rest in the dip of her neck. she sighs as she mindlessly traces patterns on your heated skin, and you try, desperately, to tame the fire growing under your skin.

the silence is filled with a tension you can feel with every expanse of your lungs, every beat of your heart, and every pump of blood through your veins but also carries that familiar comfort and calm that comes with being around shuri. her hand switches from brushing along your inner calf to the muscles of your inner thigh, and your breath hitches as you subconsciously drop your legs open that much more – just enough for her to notice, surely. her hand pauses and you freeze at the chuckle that leaves her lips, moving into her form, as if you could disappear into her if you pressed close enough.

“something you want to say to me, y/n?”

your head draws further into her neck as you stammer out her name, your ribs feeling like cages to the heat overflowing within you, “i think you know.” your voice shakes as you hear her let out a click of disapproval.

“i can’t give you anything if you don’t tell me what i want to hear.” her voice has the condescending lure of a siren disparaging her victim. you whimper, she's being so mean. slowly, you bring yourself to straddle her and drop your gaze to her lips to avoid that look in her eyes, “you’re acting dumb on purpose.” you whine out in utter humiliation.

her hands grip your waist to still your gyrating hips, pressing you into her lap, “i need to hear you say it, angel. can you do that for me?” her lips are brushing your cheekbone, and she's squeezing your skin.

your lips part, wanting to hear more, and feel more, “shuri, please… please i need you.” you're breathless. the words spill out as desperate gasps of air and you're embarassed by how wet that makes you. you felt like you couldn't breathe, the heated atmosphere deliciously suffocating.

you feel her smirk spread as her hands slip down your thighs and play with the hem of your skirt, she hums as one hand makes its way to exactly where you need her. the other wrapping around your neck to bring your gaze to hers, she hates when your eyes aren’t on hers. you exhale a stuttered breath as you look into the intensity of them, she looks like she wants to ruin you. your pussy clenches as your hips buck, every breath shared between the both of you fuelling the pool between your legs.

those slender fingers slip into your panties and immediately slide over your clit, and you're moaning out. shuri's bringing your lips right against her own, not kissing you, just holding you there — breathing air into and stealing the air from your lungs, simultaneously giving you life, and taking it away from you.

“that’s it, my pretty fucking baby, let me feel you.”

her voice is coaxing you towards the ocean of your release and guiding you to rock your hips in time with her fingers. you’re whimpering, pleading with her to give you more, and more – you want everything she has to give. she chuckles, that condescending lilt humiliating you but simultaneously adding to the tightening in your core, she slips a finger into your entrance and you’re crying out into the swell of her lips, “please, please, please… shuri”.

“tell me you love me, s'thandwa, and i'll take you there.”

she starts to circle the swell of your clit with the pad of her thumb, your eyes momentarily shut, and all you can see, hear, and breathe is her. the exchange of breath, the coo of her voice, and suddenly you're insatiable — you need her. if you were more coherent you would have heard the mirrored desperation laced in her tone, like she needed to hear that to continue living, needed you to fuel her existence.

the warmth from the humiliation of feeling so exposed pushes you further, as she gives you a second finger and presses right against your spot. your hips are stuttering as you wetly gasp out her name. “i know, i know angel, that’s my spot, isn’t it? right there hm? that’s where you need me?”

your form twitches at her words, your pussy clenching around her fingers, drawing her deeper into you, wanting her home, “i love you; i love you so much, please shuri, please.” you’re crying out. your hand is gripping the arm working your dripping pussy, your hips canting to the pretty melody of her thrusts, and her eyes are boring into yours as you beg her to bring you over. her grip around your throat tightens slightly, her thumb brushing up and down the tendon, as she curls her fingers to brush your spot, her spot, and you’re stilling.

“ndiphilele s'thandwa sam' (come for me, my love).”

then you’re sobbing out your orgasm, your body is shaking violently, feeling shuri’s sharp intake of breath against your lips as she works and talks you through it. you’re panting into her mouth, tears collecting on the lashes of your shut eyes as you try to breathe through the aftershocks. you feel shuri’s praises rather than hear them, her hands caressing the bare expanse of your ribs, “there you go. breathe for me, nkosazana, come back to me.”

when you come to, shuri’s gazing at you so deeply that you’re forced to slightly pull back and look down at her lips again, “you haven’t kissed me”, you whisper. you roll your lips in embarrassment when she just tilts her head and smirks. “stop," you drag the syllable out, "i literally told you i love you while i was coming on your fingers, nigga. and you still haven’t kissed me.” you whine as you slightly push her shoulder.

“i love you, y/n. ungumoya endiphefumelayo, ungulukhanyo lwam' (you are the air that I breathe, you are [the giver of] my sight). the sole bearer of my soul," she pauses. her hand rises to gently grip yours, and bring it to rest on the beating of her heart, "and look at me. i need you to know that above all of that, uluvuko wam', sthandwa (you are [the cause of] my resurrection, love).”

she looks at you seriously, unrelentingly, wanting her words to sink into the crevices of your skin to carve themselves within your psyche, and your eyes instantly fill with tears as you whisper her name with a tremble.

a squeeze of your waist and she’s leaning in as you shakily exhale and, in a moment, her lips are on yours, moving in synchronicity, melting over yours like the sun into the horizon. shuri’s kissing you like she wants to breathe you in, trapping you in place so you have no choice but to take and take everything she’s giving you.

she loves you.

do it quickly ‘fore the end of the song, waiting a minute for your love.

ஜ

[koolades-world]

Hello is hug deprived anon again (this might be becoming my name oh no) and I’ve had an idea

I’m sure we can all agree that mammon deserves all the love, especially because his brothers are too mean to him, they pretend they don’t love him too constantly

So, what if Mammon is away for a week, doing photoshoots or dealing with witches or something, and MC is moping because they miss him,, like, they keep turning to their side to whisper to him and then like deflating when they see no Mammon,, and like, reaching out on that side to hold his hand and then being confused when there’s nothing there, and then they realize :( maybe they stole his blanket from his room because it smells like him, so it’s the best substitute for Mammon hugs while he’s away

Maybe Beel (idk if any of the other bros would be nice enough to tell him) is texting him like “your human is too sad come back soon” and sending him pictures of MC doing this stuff

When Mammon returns MC jumps on him for hugs like “you’re home!!!!!”

Idk I think he’d cry

I think he would feel very loved and probably also cry abt it

What you think? What do you think he’d do?

(If you choose not to write anything about this no worries obviously) (but I eventually might lol I think it’d be very cute and make him very happy to have someone who really misses him when he’s away)

HI!! haha if you want and plan to request more, feel free to pick an anon name! or I could just call you something like hug LOL

wayyy back when I first got into obey me in like 2021, there was this one specific fic I read kind of similar to his idea where mammon was upset at be mistreated and mc stood up for him and it was this cute bonding moment, and this request kinda reminded me of that!! gonna try to channel it a little bit

this idea is literally so cute and I'd be happy to write it! it makes my brain like a cat who has the zoomies hehe enjoy :D

How Ironic

You watched agonizingly as the clock ticked by even slower than usual. You'd been trying to do some sort of work, or anything other than stare at the damned clock forever now, but you just couldn't focus.

It had been exactly four days, six hours, and fifteen minutes and counting since Mammon had left for a week long promotional photoshoot in another ring of hell. You had your sad, but sweet send off and you promise yourself that time apart might be good for you. After all, it always felt like you could never get anything done with Mammon around. Yet, here you were, staring blankly at a clock with a blank piece of paper and pen in front of you.

Finally deciding to throw in the towel for now, you got up from your desk in your room. A walk to a local convivence store was in order. Snacks and fresh air wasn't a combo you could pass up. On your way out, you passed the door to his room which was slightly ajar. You briefly had the thought to poke your head in and ask him if he wanted to come, before remembering that he wouldn't be in there. You continued your walk to the front door, where you put on your shoes and grabbed a bag that had a few necessities in it for the short journey.

Thankfully, you hadn't passed any of his brothers on the way there, meaning you didn't have to explain yourself or have them ask to tag along. While you enjoyed their company, they weren't Mammon. If you needed help, you could always summon one of them thanks to the pacts, but you needed this short walk to clear your head.

The air was unfortunately stifling and overly humid outside, making you glad you were dressed light. It was basically just your pajamas but when you went out with Mammon, the two of you did this every time. As you autopiloted to your favorite corner store, your thoughts wandered back to Mammon again. You wondered how he was doing and if he missed being at home. You couldn't blame him if he didn't and hoped he was enjoying his time away from home as much as you wished he was by your side.

Once you got to the store, you wandered around for a bit, debating what to get. After grabbing a small basket, you began to pile in various things that sounded good. Once the basket was full, you came to the realization that all the snacks were Mammon's favorites; hell sauce flavored instant noodles, Chaos Devil Cider and ginger ale to mix, Devilbee honey popcorn, and a variety pack of Devildom gummies. This is what he introduced you to the first time you did a snack run together. You decided, in light of this discovery, to buy extras for him for when he got back. You figured he would enjoy it and it was the least you could do to thank him for introducing you to so many tasty things you would've not tried otherwise. Once you checked out, you returned back to the House of Lamentation with a new skip in your step.

You made your way back up to your room, and passed the ajar door of Mammon's room again. Memories of the two of you together flooded back again, and you couldn't help but step in. Just being in his room was like he was really right next to you again. You couldn't help but sit on his sofa and think about how much you missed him even though it hadn't even been a full week. His absence made you realize how much you missed his presence. After a moment, you decide to leave the snacks you bought for him on his bedside table so his brothers were less likely to wander in and find them before him.

As you were setting down everything you'd gotten for him, you something caught your eye just about to fall off the end of his bed. After you picked it off the edge of his bed, you realized it was the hoodie he always wore around the house. It was faded from lots of usage and the strings were fraying. You knew it smelt like his cologne and his shampoo from all of the tight embraces he'd given you while wearing it. You for sure thought he would've taken it with him, but it looked as if he had thrown it off last minute and thrown it on his bed without looking back.

Looking around as if someone might be watching (which could very well be the case since Lucifer was notoriously quiet), you pulled it to your chest and deeply inhaled. Of course, there was the chance that it was dirty, but you couldn't care less. It wasn't anything you hadn't seen of him before. Since there really wasn't anything stopping you, you took it back to your room with you. You weren't even really that cold, in all honesty. It was more of the idea that he was right next to you since it smelt just like him.

You continued your night like you had before you left, just with his hoodie on. You were magically much more productive wearing it and you managed to get several things done. Usually, you would be chatting with Mammon on the phone at about this time to talk about how your days were, but he was unfortunately busy with something work related. Instead, you decided to send him a sweet goodnight text and send a picture of your set up with the food and the show you've been watching one episode at a time. Not expecting a response before you called it a night, you turn your phone off and focused on eating and watching tv.

Beel wasn't sure what woke him up first: his stomach or Mammon blowing up his phone. Sitting up in his bed, he peered at his screen, squinting at it. He had at least twenty texts from his brother asking him to check on Mc for him after they hadn't responded to his texts. He wasn't sure if Mammon knew they were probably asleep or if he was just worrying for no reason. Either way, he decided to check on them for him anways. After his kitchen run, of course.

After letting Mammon know, he got out of bed and left his room. On his way to the kitchen, however, he ended up following the smell of cup noodles to Mc's room. There, he was able to complete both of his missions. He snapped a picture of Mc fast asleep with a couple half finished snacks, then took the snacks. Mission complete.

Mammon was only halfway through the only kind of dumb business dinner when he spammed Beel about Mc. He was more worried than he would admit to himself about them. He knew it was probably nothing and that they had fallen asleep, but Beel was usually awake at this time eating anyways. The food was nice and he was the star of the show, but the dinner was much too stifling for his taste. Most importantly, it was cutting into his precious time with Mc, something he looked forward to at the end of every day. He loved getting to hear their voice after being away from them for so long. He missed getting to see them in person, but getting to hear them was next best.

As he was poking at his food, he finally got the response he was waiting hand and foot on. Beel had responded with just an image at first, so he scrambled to open it. He breathed a sigh of relief. It was a picture of his beloved Mc fast asleep in their bed. You looked so peaceful but your face was barely visible because of the hood pulled up over your eyes. After squinting, he realized the hoodie you were wearing looked oddly familiar. He realized that that was his hoodie, the one he'd left on his bed when he was late the morning he left.

He could barely contain his excitement and it must had been evident on his face since those around him glanced at him, and then between each other a few times. He saved the photo to his phone, and texted Beel back a thanks. As everyone talked around him, he debating asking to leave the shoot early right then and there. If he left right now, he would be able to make it home before you woke up. While he entertained this thought for a while, eventually he decided to stick it out since there were only a few days left. As soon as he was allowed to leave, however, he would buy you something with the paycheck he'd be given. Something nice, maybe a gold bracelet that would remind you of him when you see it. He spent the rest of the night thinking, then dreaming about you. He could only hope you were doing the same. (you were <3)

After those final two and a half agonizing days and many texts later, it was finally time for Mammon to return home. For now, he decided to leave his car parked just outside the house, since he may or may not have been planning to take you out to dinner later that day. As soon as he walked in the door, one of his suitcases in tow, something, or rather someone, attacked him with a flying hug. At first, he was processing the situation as Mc began to squeal and squeeze him as tight as they could into a hug. He wasn't really sure where they had come from, but he knew who it was as soon as their arms were around him.

"MAMMON!" Mc swung the both of them around, buzzing with excitement. "Diavolo, I missed you so much. I don't want to let go of you. If you don't take me with you next time, I might die of sadness and loneliness!" Their arms were around his neck, and their face in his chest. He finally let go of his suitcase and hugged them back. He held them close, shutting his eyes for a moment to take it all in.

"I missed ya too. 's good to be back." He, again, couldn't stop the smile from growing on his face. His brothers never expressed themselves the way Mc was to him in that moment, so he wasn't quite sure how to feel. They never seemed excited to see him, so it was so refreshing to see Mc visibly excited and made him feel truly loved. All their time apart was worth moments like these.

As MC was squealing, a few of his brothers began to gather around the foyer around them. Perhaps they heard them, or maybe they knew he'd be back today at around this time. Either way, he waved at them, still keeping an arm around Mc.

"Guys! Mammon is back." Mc nuzzled his neck, still holding onto him.

"We can see that." Belphie remarked, sounding unamused. Mammon's smile faded a little. So, they didn't care that he was back, did they? He should've expected that from them. Actually, they probably wished he'd been gone for longer with the way they treated him sometimes.

"I talked to you guys about this. I don't expect you to do what I'm doing, but you need to show him you're happy he's back. You can't lie, he's irreplaceable! I don't know what I'd do without him, and I missed him so much." Just like that, Mc's words lifted him back up. Suddenly, he was no longer upset that his brothers didn't care. He had the attention and care from the person he thought about the entire time he was gone. "Shame on you all. Don't expect me to talk to you for the next few days. Let's get your things from the car, and go upstairs. We have so much to catch up on!" Mc only let go of his neck to grab his hand instead. They dragged him back out of the house, shutting the door with their foot behind the two of them.

"Mc, ya didn't have to do all that fer me..." Mammon glanced back at the shut door. His brothers didn't open it, or try to follow them.

"But I did! You're my first man, after all. I really can't express how much I missed you and just saying it doesn't feel like enough." They reached into the trunk of his car to begin taking out his suitcases. Mammon moved them aside gently, not wanting them to do even more for him that he felt as if he didn't deserve.

Mammon was silent for a moment, then decided to go digging through his backpack for the bracelet he'd bought for you. He hoped it would make it easier to tell you how he felt. "Here, this is fer you." He presented the small, black box to them. Looking caught off guard, they accepted it and opened it carefully. Your mouth dropped open as you saw the golden piece of jewelry he bought for you on the drive back.

"Mammon! This is beautiful. Thank you so much! But, I don't understand why. What's the occasion?" You removed it from the box and held it up to the light to study it. Several small charms hung off of it.

"That's the thing. There isn't one." He took a deep breath and looked down at his feet before continuing. "I just... yer so good to me. Ya texted me daily, called me daily, thought about me while I was gone, and even waited fer me like that so ya could surprise me when I got back. Ya care, and I know I'm not the best with showin' I care and it makes me feel shitty. Thank you, fer everythin'. I really missed ya." He couldn't see how Mc reacted, but was essentially tackled into another hug again by them.

"Mams, you show me you care in little ways. Just because you don't say it, doesn't mean that you don't. You just being back here with me is more than enough." He immediately thought about how ironic the entire situation was. He never actually told them how he felt and treated them like garbage sometimes, and he thought it might've been pushing the person he cared for most away, but really, he never had to worry about that. he'd never considered that they could see past his inability to admit his feelings. He hugged them back, savoring the moment since this time they were alone.

"Thank you Mc." He held back happy tears.

"No, thank you! Thank you for always being by my side. Now, instead of actually unpacking, let's just lock the car and sneak back inside. Maybe they'll eventually feel sorry and come looking for us, but we'll actually be hiding right under their noses. It'll be like a spy mission." Mc giggled leaning back to see his face. Mammon let them look him in the eyes, glistening tears and all.

"Yeah, let's do that. We can watch that movie ya wanted to watch and just share headphones." He found himself joining in with the quiet laughing along to something he wasn't sure either of them really understood. Something he did understand however, was that he knew he was loved back by the one he loved the most, and couldn't ask for more.

[nanamikentoseyebags]

I know i'm home

for everyone the scars on his body showed that for all his immense power, he was still human. for him they were an agonizing reminder that he would never let it happen again.

pairing: satoru gojo x gn!reader

content: just his little inner satoru finally finds peace, warmth and home, hurt/comfort, fluff

a/n: i've been thinking a whole lot about little satoru lately, here's the result of my reflections lol, hope you enjoy <3

The quiet, velvety night slowly descended to the earth, spreading out an endless blanket of dark sky, sprinkled with a myriad of shimmering stars, inviting the full pale moon to slumber upon it until daybreak. A light summer breeze penetrated into your shared bedroom through the slightly open window, filling every corner of it with a pleasant freshness while gently, as if by the hand of a lover, brushing the loose strands away from your face. The barely audible murmur of the leaves, intertwined with the lulling buzzing of night insects and the occasional trill of birds, produced melodies that any composer would have envied. You stood there barefoot, in his oversized T-shirt that reached your knees, leaning your arms on the windowsill and curiously observing the nature, engulfed in a captivity of a tranquil slumber. It was miraculous how, in this hectic and violent world, there were still such peaceful nights, reserved for the two of you.

You pulled away from the window, gently adjusting the thin floral curtain he'd hung so eagerly, almost on the verge of falling, a few days ago. Listening to the tinkling sound of running water, you tiptoed toward the bathroom, the door of which was slightly ajar. The moments of simple domestic intimacy were so rare yet so precious that his five-minute absence felt like hours of unbearable torture, while the desire to peek through that little gap and catch a glimpse of the dearest silhouette grew with each passing second. You reached the door gingerly, and, squinting slightly in hopes that you wouldn't make a loud noise, you pulled it toward you, widening the viewing angle and quietly peeking in.

Your face met the pleasant warm humidity. The lamps glimmered brightly, illuminating the white tiled walls, little pearl-like droplets still dripping down as if chasing one another in an unspoken game. Satoru was standing with his back turned to you, exposing his broad shoulders and strong back with his birthmarks scattered all across it as if he was a canvas and they were the drops of paint, placed there by the hand of a great master. His snow-white hair, sparkling in the light, shimmered in an array of colors, creating a subtle glow all around him. The misted surface of the mirror revealed the imprints of his large palm, which had rid of the unwanted shroud a few minutes ago, giving him a glimpse of his reflection. His left hand rested on the edge of the basin while the other firmly gripped the razor, moving expertly across his porcelain, now covered in a layer of shaving foam, skin.

Satoru remained concentrated, turning his head deftly and delicately wielding his razor blade. His celestial blue eyes were fixed on his own reflection, while his thoughts were elsewhere. Surrounded by an unusual silence, punctuated only by the gentle whisper of flowing water, he still heard far more than any human ear could. For Satoru, the quietest night, so silent and soundless to everyone, turned into a cacophony of noisy daytime sounds.

He diligently tried to keep the annoying thoughts and noises away from him, striving to mentally return to the pleasant moments of complete tranquility with you. He put all the unnecessary shaving items into the cabinet and bent down, rinsing off the rest of the foam and sending it down the drain along with his dark thoughts. Then he straightened, taking a quick glance at his face reflected in the smooth surface of the mirror and reached for the towel, as his gaze, surprisingly even for him, lingered a little longer on the scar, hidden behind the damp snowy strands that fell on his forehead, and then slowly moved to his neck, eyes flickering worryingly under the blinding light of the bright lamps. He cautiously, as if he were afraid of himself, brought his hand to his neck, tracing the damaged skin with his fingertips and swallowing heavily. He reluctantly lowered his gaze to his chest, staring with revulsion at the vertical scar that so distinctly marked his pale skin.

He shook his head a few times, as if driving away the ghosts of his past, and nestled his head into the soft cloth of the terry towel, gently removing the residue of water from his face. Finally, he lifted his head and flinched slightly, meeting your gaze in the reflection.

"Spying on me?" he immediately turned around, in a moment replacing his startled grimace with his usual wide grin.

"Me? Never," you smiled sheepishly, not expecting to be caught red-handed, and opened the door wider, taking a couple of timid steps in his direction.

"I thought you were already in bed, you little liar," Satoru smirked boyishly, holding out his arms and inviting you into his warm embrace.

"I couldn't sleep without you, so I thought I'd see what you were doing here without me," you teased, wrapping your arms around his strong body and gently stroking his back.

"Don't worry, sweetheart, nothing to make you feel neglected," he joked, sounding as confident as possible, but his eyes brimmed with all the colors of unrestrained sadness.

You slapped his back playfully, bursting into hearty laughter and burying your nose into his naked chest. His strong arms encircled your waist, pulling you even tighter against him as his lips left a light kiss on your head. Your palm slowly caressed his silky skin, tracing intricate patterns with your fingertips, feeling the hundreds of goosebumps running all over his body. You smiled, your index finger now drawing a small heart just where his heart was beating beneath it. Satoru shook his head, laughing softly and rolling his eyes, "You're so cheesy," but you could still feel his slender, long fingers leaving little hearts on every millimeter of your skin for several minutes now. You smiled blissfully, allowing yourself to melt into his tender embrace, forgetting time and plans, feeling only the comfort of his warmth enveloping you from head to toe and his heart beating right under your cheek.

You gently touched his deep scar, like a scorched mark resting on his flawless, soft-white skin. Satoru's breath hitched as he shuddered at the sudden sensation.

"Does it hurt?" a soft whisper, coming from your lips and fanning his chest with your hot breath, reached his ears.

"Of course not, silly, it has long since healed," he looked at you perplexedly, his eyebrows drawn into a thin line.

"No, does it hurt?" you stressed the last word, lifting your head and gazing into his wide-open hypnotic orbits, hoping that he would understand what you implied in that question.

His lips quivered, and his eyes flickered frantically over your face, trying to figure out if he should voice what had been languishing inside for so long. Small but obvious wrinkles appeared on his forehead, giving his face an even more baffled expression.

"Yeah...' he forcefully uttered the answer that was stuck in his throat, 'sometimes I feel his knife going through me all over again…,' his hand slowly covered yours, stroking your knuckles.

"Right...," you whispered, intertwining your fingers with his and squeezing his hand lightly, in hopes of showing that you could understand him.

"Sometimes I feel like I'm a kid again and I relive all this stuff over and over again, isn't that silly?" he chuckled sadly, hiding his eyes, in which you could notice snippets of the suffering he had seen throughout his life. It seemed as if, as he uttered these words, he indeed turned into a little boy, only the mischievous smile that everyone around him was so used to seeing had now faded, and his eyes no longer burned with such a vibrant light.

"It's not stupid at all," you lovingly brushed his hair away from his forehead, gently stroking his cheekbone, "I wish I was there to protect you from everything," you admitted sincerely.

"You know I would have done anything to prevent that," Satoru gently took your hand, leaving an appreciative kiss on your palm.

You nodded, knowing it was useless to argue with him, just hugged him a little tighter, while gently caressing his tense back muscles. You knew how hard he was trying not to reveal his true emotions to you, to keep cool, but it was his hands that were nervously rubbing the fabric of yours, or rather his T-shirt, and the ragged breathing that caused his chest heave so anxiously that made it all abundantly clear.

"I often wonder what that little boy I once used to be would have said to me after knowing how much pain and death those eyes had seen, what he would have thought when he saw that with every step I took there were bloody footprints on the ground, stretching endlessly behind me, how he would have felt when he noticed those scars, evidence that I had let it happen to him" he continued after a pause, burying his nose in your hair.

"He would have been proud of you," you uttered quietly, "after finding out what you had learned and what else those magic eyes could do, he would have admired seeing what your body, now adorned with a pair of battle marks, was capable of, he would have thanked you when he realized how many people you had saved. And he thanks you now for the way you protect him, because he still lives in you."

Satoru fell silent, holding his breath, heeding every single word that he felt was healing his wounds, kissing all the pain away. He closed his eyes, trying to hold back the tears that welled up in his eyes, and exhaled softly.

You caressed his side reassuringly, leaving a kiss on his shoulder, "I just know little Satoru feels safe now."

"Yeah, with you, little Satoru feels at home.”

***

The silent, dark night was replaced by a bright morning, filled with the peals of the birds, causing the sleeping moon to give way to the brilliant sun, illuminating the soft features of Satoru, who had fell asleep on your chest, with its gentle golden rays. The warm blanket he had so carefully wrapped you in before you went to sleep almost slid to the floor, his arm lazily wrapped around your waist while your legs were entwined, preventing you from moving. You smiled earnestly, fingertips stroking his soft skin and once again covering his body with little hearts, while your lips were leaving little kisses here and there. Your heart was full, realizing with its every beat that your whole world was encased in this one person. You lay there quietly, staring at his slightly fluttering white lashes and hoping that in one of the parallel universes you had somehow met sooner, and both little Satoru and little you knew no worries, faithfully carrying your love through life, holding tightly to each other with your intertwined pinkies.

thank you for reading, reblogs and comments are very much appreciated! &lt;3

art and dividers are not mine &lt;3

tags: @shamelessperfectionhideout @afortoru @keiskyutie @vagabond-umlaut @4sat0ruu @softsatoru @mitsuyeaah @playgrl0 @moonsinfonia @a-nuisance-called-sam @gojoshooter

[hopeluna-archived]

Baking! ft. Mammon & Luke

Characters: Mammon, Luke, MC is mentioned but does not appear and Simeon appears briefly

CW: romantic implications for Mammon, absolutely platonic for my son Luke and also not proofread lol

A/N: just a little something I thought was cute af

"OY!! I was asking ye' something"

Luke jumped up, startled at the sudden voice from behind him. Face pale, like he had been caught stealing, he turned around slowly only for his features to relax and then quickly be overcome with a scowl at the person who barged in.

"Mammon! You made me almost drop my batter...."

Just as Luke carefully put down his poor, almost died, bowl of batter, Mammon curiously peeked over to find an assortment of cupcakes, candies and other sweet treats on one side of the huge table; a mess of flour and dough on the other.

"What are you doing? You gotta bake sale coming or something?"

"No, I- "

"You making any money out of it?"

"What? No, I- "

"You're doing this for free?? That's a bad investment kid, the idea is to work less, get more mon- "

"ITS FOR MC!!"

That seemed to snap Mammon's attention away from the table that he has been inspecting back to a red faced, pouting Luke.

"......for MC?"

Turning his face away from the demon, huffing a "it's none of your concern", Luke went back to mixing the whipped cream cheese mixture in the bowl, occasionally swiping some with his fingers from the side of the bowl to taste it, humming in thought and then proceeding to add ingredients to make it better.

Sensing the uncharacteristic quietness of Mammon, Luke sneaked a glance to see him intently looking at all the sweets on the table, seemingly deep in thought.

"Don't even think about trying to sell these, Mammon."

Mammon looked back at the angel with narrowed eyes, not replying to his statement, "you really making this MC?"

"Uh....yes?"

"Why?"

"I don't know.....I just want to" shrugging, when Mammon didn't seem to be wanting to say anything else, Luke went back to his work.

A few minutes passed in silence before Luke couldn't take it any longer and exclaimed in a shrill, annoyed voice

"Are you just going to keep standing there??"

*.·:·.✧ ✦✧.·:·.*

"Luke?"

Simeon had been looking and calling for Luke for about some time now and his search till now seemed fruitless.

"We should add sprinkles on he- " "that's boring, add these piece- " "wait! Don't put it there!!" "Its not gonnal fall, damn it- "

Turning towards the kitchen from where he suspected the muffled screaming was coming from, Simeon recognized the voices but could not piece together on why they were possibly at one place since the recipients of these voices don't really go well together.

Inching towards the slightly ajar door quietly, there was Mammon and Luke hovering over a few cupcakes. The former trying to put a misshapen piece of chocolate on the them while the latter was busy taking them off just as it was put.

"I'm telling you, this is gonna look good!"

"Its looks ugly!"

A smile grew on Simeon's face as he observed the two bakers. It doesn't take a genius to figure out that the desserts were for a certain human as they were probably the only thing that could actually bring the demon and the angel to work together on something.

Quickly taking his D.D.D out from his pocket, it takes Simeon a second to find the camera app on there, a silent exclaim of success leaving his mouth when he finds it. Clicking the picture proves to be tedious task when Simeon manages to take a selfie of himself everytime rather than the duo.

Slightly glaring at the device, he puts it back in his pocket with a sigh. Looking a last glance back at the pair still arguing in the kitchen, Simeon walks away.

He really needs to get his tech skills up.

© hopeluna. Do not copy, translate, modify or repost any of my work in this or any other site. Do not steal or modify my ideas/concepts either.

[spacebobastories]

Something Real

Chapter 2 - The Omega

Summary: When John got the mission assigned to him to retrieve an important item, he didn’t think nothing of it. With hardly any information presented to them, they were in the dark. But, what they found shocked them. Why didn’t they know about this facility? Maybe they didn’t want to know.

Parings: Poly 141 x OC (Louis Belmont)

Warnings: Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics, Alternate Universe, I’m not an expert on military so there will be inaccuracies, panicking from Louis.

Author’s note: You guys have no idea how bad I want to do daily updates lol. But I have to force myself to do weekly updates so I won’t become burnt out. I have so many ideas for this story it’s not even funny. I want to just write little head cannons but don’t want to really spoil anything.

Previous Chapter —> Next Chapter

“So we have no idea what we’re supposed to retrieve?” It was quiet in the office as John Price sat at his desk. Laswell was on the other line, a small exhausted sigh came from her. It seemed like the higher ups were running her ragged as well.

“Not really. All they told us was that the item could either be extremely dangerous or not. Look Price, I don’t even know if the ‘item’ they’re talking about is even real. But if the higher ups want it, then it must be extremely important.”

John leaned back in his chair, it creaked softly under his weight, and let out a sigh of his own. He reached up to pinch the bridge of his nose, feeling a headache start to form behind his eyes. He’s been up for three days straight now dealing with paper work and the higher ups. He hasn’t even had the time to even take a quick nap.

“Right. This is exactly what I wanted. To go blind in a mission.”

It was eerily quiet as Ghost and Soap moved through the building, checking their corners and staying close together. When they touched down in Old Washington, there wasn’t any surprise to how old and rundown the city was. It was abandoned since the Omega War 33 years ago. No one but the desperate stayed here. So, when they finally managed to find the building they were looking for, surprise washed over them.

It was a hospital but the deeper they went underground, the more the hospital…didn’t look like a hospital. “What the hell is this place?” Soap muttered softly, his voice echoing lightly.

“No idea. But keep talking to a minimum. Dont know what’s here.” Ghost’s baritone voice doesn’t echo as much because of his mask but it didn’t make it less eerie. The walls were cracked and some had fallen in, the building creaked and groaned. They had to make this quick, but there was no way of knowing what the hell they were looking for.

But whatever this place was, it didn’t look like a basement to store things. As they passed by a few rooms, shining their lights in, they saw skeletons on the floor wearing lab coats. There looked like some medical equipment but looked more sinister than normal equipment. Soap felt a shiver move down his spine at the thought of what they did here. *Why are there so many skeletons? How many people died here?* he thought as a bead of sweat rolled down his temple.

It took them longer than they thought to make it to the last door. The door was different than the others. As the regular doors were made of wood and were small, this door was massive and metal. But, it was slightly ajar. The sign above it read ‘Cryo Chambers’

“Didn’t they say the item could be dangerous?” Soap spoke as Ghost glanced over at him and let his gun fall to his side. “Yeah, be ready for anything.” He muttered as he grabbed the edge of the door and with a grunt, began pulling it open. It was heavy even with Ghost being strong, it was still hard to open. But he managed to get it open enough to the point they could slip in. He grabbed his gun once more and stepped in.

Inside the large room it should have been dark, but it was dimly lit by the cryo pods that lined the walls. Some of them were off while others were on. But it looked like a lot of the people inside were dead. Soap and Ghost slowly moved down the middle, shock moving through their bodies. *What the hell were they doing down here?* was the thoughts that went through their minds.

Soap swallowed thickly as he saw that the people in the pods looked…odd. They were bigger than most but some had horns while others looked like they had wings. *Experiments? They were experimenting on people?* Soap felt anger move through his body but glanced over as he felt Ghost bump his side. The Alpha also looked angry, he could see it in his eyes. But there was nothing they could do.

At the end of the room was a larger cryo pod that was brightly lit. The small screen on the pod had the vitals of the person inside. The heart monitor was still moving and there was a green light on the screen. That had to be a good thing right? Ghost reached up and wiped some of the condensation off the glass. Inside of the pod lay a man with deep red dreadlocks that almost looked like blood in the light of the pod. His locs were loose, lying down over his shoulders and seemed to stop below his chest. His skin which looked to be umber had a dark-yellow tone to it which paired nicely with his hair. What caught Ghost’s attention the most was the black and silver gas mask that sat on his face. It didn’t cover his entire face just the bottom half of his face.

The life monitor also had the name of this person. Ghost looked at the monitor, reading the name: Louis Belmont. Then shock washed over him as he stared at the status below the name. Omega.

*An Omega? An honest to God Omega? Here?* he thought and looked over at Soap who was looking at the pod in anger and shock. “A fucking Omega? What the hell is this place?” The brunette breathed out and Ghost stepped back.

“I guess we’ll find out from him.” He looked around the pod for a handle or something to open it. It took a few tries but they finally managed to get it open and they quickly stepped back at the pod began to open.

Ghost watched as the omega’s eyes fluttered open, he was once again shocked and surprised as the whites of his eyes were black and his eyes were an extremely beautiful gold. The color looked like molten gold and was actually…glowing.

“Holy shit, L.T, you see what I’m seein’? ” Soap breathed out as the Omega’s body leaned forward and they were ready to catch it but they froze as his body turned into smoke, falling to the ground only to turn right back into a solid body. Soap breathed in sharply, both tensing up and not knowing what to do. Until the redhead took off his gas mask and took a deep breath only to start coughing. It was the type of cough that shook his whole body, making him hunch over in pain.

Soap moved first, moving over to the omega and placed his hand on the man’s back. He rubbed his hand slowly, trying to calm the man’s coughing down and once he finally stopped, he placed the mask back on.

Louis seemed to be processing what was going on as he slowly lifted his head and looked at Ghost. “Can you stand?” Ghost asked, silently cursing. Of course he can’t stand, he looked like he barely knew where he was.

“What…year is it?”

The man’s voice was scratchy, like he hadn’t used it for a long time. The labored breathing of the gas mask didn’t help either.

“3055.” Soap spoke up, still beside Louis and the omega’s eyes went wide from shock and disbelief.

“33 years? I’ve been in there for…33 years?” It sounded like all the air had left his lungs as he stared at Ghost in shock then down at the floor.

Ghost felt the urge to console him, make him feel better but he refrained from doing so.

“Soap, pick him up. We need to go.” Ghost watched as the beta nodded his head and fixed his gun before reaching down and picked up the man. The redhead had on black pants and a black muscle shirt that showed off his muscles.

“We have the target, Captain.” Ghost reported to Price, not wanting to say more until they got back to a safe place. Gaz nor Price will believe him until they bring the Omega in.

Pain. Pain. Pain. painpainpain. It hurts! It hurts! It hurts! Golden eyes shot open, Louis breathed in sharply as the pain seemed to intensify as he was now fully awake. His eyes frantically darted around at the figures above him, darkened out by the blindingly bright light above him. His heart was beating so hard he thought it would burst out of his chest. *No! Not again! Not this again!* Panic gripped his brain tightly and his breathing picked up speed, but his eyes locked onto the figure who was speaking.

"How is Louis behaving?" The voce was feminine as she was handed something, a clipboard.

Louis could hear the light fluttering of paper as she lifted the page to look at something. That's right, he was here again. The tests, the pain. It never seemed to end. It was like a loop of pain that got worse and worse over time. The Omega swallowed thickly, painfully. His mouth felt like it was stuffed with cotton, he couldn't swallow and it was hard to speak. "W-where...am I?" He managed to get out, his mind foggy. He had a vague recollection on where he was, but couldn't put anything together.

The pain was excruciating as he laid on that table, pain shooting through his body. He could feel IV's were in his arm, but he didn't know how many there were or what they were pumping into him. Louis's body twitched as jolts of pain shot through him and he gasped sharply, suddenly arching his back. Tears pooled in his eyes then rolled down his cheeks, he could hear himself sobbing, begging for the pain to stop.

He wished he could see the people above him, see their faces to memorize them. Louis wanted them to pay for making him hurt. Pain...pain...it hurts so much.

"He's doing surprisingly well with the chemicals in his body. It hasn't killed him yet." The voice sounded excited. It made him sick. "B-bastards." He croaked out and through his blurry vision, he could see their heads tilt down towards him.

"I'm surprised he can even speak. The pain must be excruciating. Fascinating." One of the figures reached out to wipe the tears from his sweaty face, he flinched at the touch, trying to focus on the person. But it was too hard to focus on anything, his head throbbed and it felt like he had ran a 10 mile marathon with no break.

"Hush now, child. This is for a good cause." Someone moved beside him and he let out a weak cry of protest as something sharp pricked his skin. A needle.

Louis felt his head become heavy and he let it roll to the side and looked at the person beside him. A woman, by the way she smelled. It was still hard to see and with his vision becoming more blurry by the second, he didn't try and focus anymore. "Go to sleep, Louis. The pain will subside." The voice was unnervingly calm, it made him shudder with discomfort. But his eyes started to grow heavy and the sounds around him grew slow and mixed together. He fought to keep his eyes open, but soon the blackness took him and he fell into a deep sleep.

Louis's eyes suddenly shot open and he quickly sat up, not hearing the surprised gasp from the nurse in the room. He was shaking from terror, trying to not have a panic attack. But it was hard, he was out of the cryo pod, was he back under testing? The Omega's eyes quickly locked onto a nurse who was standing a little away's from the bed. She looked like she was giving him space but his terror filled brain was telling him the opposite.

A scream of surprise was heard from his room as he slammed his shoulder into the door, slamming it open. He stumbled forward, falling into the wall. His eyes darted around the few hospital staff that roamed the halls. They were now frozen in shock and he narrowed his eyes at the military uniforms that some of them had on. His breathing became labored as he now realized he didn't have his gas mask, but when one of the staff moved forward, he growled loudly and stepped back. "Woah, calm down. No one here is going to- Wait!!"

Louis didn't give him a chance to continue as he turned and began running the opposite way. The alarms started going off as he ran down the hall, roughly pushing people out of the way. He dodged those who were trying to catch him. All the while he felt like his lungs were on fire, he felt and tasted blood on his lips, knowing his body was healing and decaying at a rapid rate. But he didn't care. If he was here, then they were going to do experiments on him again. He couldn't go through that again. Never again.

"There he is!" Louis panted hard as he skidded around the corner, slamming into the wall before running again. He could feel his body shifting into his shadow form, quickly shadow stepping further away from everyone. But his body couldn't keep up with him, not with him still recovering. So, his own body forced him back in his solid state and he let out a surprised yelp as he stumbled and fell to the ground. He rolled to a stop, his back hitting the wall and he struggled to get up, feeling his arms shaking as he slowly crawled to a corner.

"There you are." A masculine voice came from behind Louis and with the last of his energy, he quickly turned around, moving into a crouched position and growled loudly, snarling at the man in front of him. Or should he say men. There were now four men in front of him, although, the one who spoke looked and sounded familiar. *A mohawk?* Louis thought, growling again as the mohawk man stepped closer.

"Stay back!" Louis yelled but suddenly began coughing hard. He wanted to keep his eyes on the man but couldn't, covering his mouth as blood seeped through his fingers. "Shit..." A baritone voice caught his attention but he couldn't really look as he was literally coughing up a piece of his lung.

Louis noticed it went quiet, the alarms weren't blaring and no one was speaking.

"Y-you're...not taking me back." His breathing was labored as he finished coughing, flicking the chunk of lung off of his hand. He felt his lungs regenerating and he watched the men, faintly picking up their scents. But it was mostly drowned out by the strong scent of his blood.

"We're not taking you back, wee yin. Promise. We're just here to help" The one with the mohawk spoke again and Louis now recognized the man. He was the one who carried him out. And...Louis quickly looked over and locked eyes with the large one in the ghost mask.

"Names." Louis didn't relax but he at least remembered the two men who were there. The other two, a very pretty man with chocolate brown eyes and a equally handsome man with beautiful blue eyes and a mustache, he did not recognize.

"Soap. The one with the skull mask is Ghost. Kyle is the pretty one. And the one with the mustache is Price." Soap quickly listed their names and Louis locked eyes with all of them before looking back at Soap.

"What now?" He breathed out as he could feel his body slowly shutting down, wanting to sleep again. But he fought the feeling.

"We get you back in bed so you can rest." Price spoke but kept his distance and Louis looked at him with suspicion.

"That's it?"

"That's it."

Louis kept eye contact with him, making sure he wasn't lying and when he felt satisfied, he went to stand but his legs gave out under him and he saw the ground getting closer. He closed his eyes, waiting for the pain, but it never came. Instead, he landed against a warm chest and into strong arms. His face landed against Soap's shoulder and Louis couldn't help but to breath in his scent. The almondy scent of a beta invaded his nose, making him calm down, becoming like putty in Soap's arms. But then his natural scent came through, he smelled like watered down aftershave and coffee. Warm...so warm.

Louis let out a deep sigh as he was picked up bridal style, held close to that warm chest. "You're safe now, bonny. Rest." Louis let his his body relax and he felt himself grow heavy before once again slipping off into a deep sleep.

This was one long chapter. Phew!! I hope you guys enjoyed that! If you have any questions feel free to ask away!

[moonferry]

im running out of witty things to title these lol but here's fsioy chapter 11

okay this ones a bit different, but its very important to what happens next. this is sort of a segue ? if that makes sense. but i basically wanted to write lee's reaction & how that ties into what's happening next so hear u go.

warnings: mentions of death, arguing, swearing, blaming, (basically the boys argue)

word count: 4284

summary: lee finally returns from his "secret scout mission" and realizes his own feelings. on his search for danny, he runs into kent and receives some terrible news.

ao3 link: here

other chapters: chapter masterlist

July 19XX, Army Camp – Middle of the War | Danny’s Funeral

Willy did exactly as he said he would: while Kent was washing away the events that took place earlier in the day, Willy had rounded up several generals and corporals and begun setting up the standard funeral procedures. He had handed the cold lump of flesh that - only hours ago - was Danny to what would pass as a mortician (not like they had much time to properly embalm the body, with the influx of war casualties, but it didn’t sit right with Willy to leave the boy to the elements, so he insisted on a proper burial.) Plus, Willy had a soft spot for Kent’s little trio. 

He began walking around, alerting the cadets that there would be a slight change in their schedules to honor a fallen member of Cabin Five. As he approached Cabin Five itself, he noticed the sound of muffled sobs behind a nearby door. He moved towards the door and gave a faint knock. 

“Are ye alright, Lad?” He called out. Willy wasn’t entirely sure who was behind that door, but he could make a good guess. Given what transpired earlier, it was likely none other than Kent. 

“Go away,” The voice called back, sniffling. 

“Look, son, I know this is tough,” Willy started, a small sigh escaping his lips. He leaned his shoulder against the door, fidgeting with his hands as he tried to find some comforting words. Eventually, he spoke once again, “Things like this happen every day. It doesn’t get any easier, trust me. But ya have to keep goin’, despite everythin’ life throws at ye or the things it takes away.” 

Kent didn’t respond. Though, through the silence, Willy could tell he was thinking about his words. 

“Kent, open the door, lad,” Willy spoke calmly, trying to keep his voice even. He wasn’t angry at Kent by any means - in fact, he would’ve been surprised if Kent hadn’t reacted this way - but he was beginning to get frustrated. 

More silence, though there was the slightest shuffling - as if Kent was considering opening the door. 

“I just want to talk t’ ye,” The older man explained as another sigh left his lips. When the door still remained shut, Willy started to walk away. However, a soft “click” of a lock and the faint groaning of hinges stopped him. He turned back around and noticed the door was now slightly ajar. It wasn’t much, but it was progress. Willy waited a bit longer and watched as the door slowly crept open more and more. Eventually, it revealed Kent, who was currently sitting in the corner of the room and clutching the soiled uniform to his chest. 

Willy’s lips formed a thin line and he nodded. He’d seen this happen far too many times - and even experienced it himself in his younger days. Now, with the war constantly waging on and the casualties seeming to rise every day, Willy had grown a bit numb. It wasn’t intentional, more of a side effect - really -, but Willy had seen so much death, so much destruction, that it was to be expected at this point. He didn’t expect Kent to understand this, obviously. He approached Kent before crouching down to his eye level. 

“I know it’s terrible, lad,” Willy started. He glanced down at the garment in Kent’s hands and remembered his own share of losses. He took a deep breath and began to sympathize with Kent, “I’ve lost many good people in this war - and others like it -, lad. War’s an awful thing. But that’s all it is. Awful. Absolutely nothin’ good comes from all this bloodshed and carnage - it’s really just to create a big stink.”

“What do you mean?” Kent asked, confusion momentarily clouding his sadness. He looked up at Willy and tried to determine what the man was saying. 

“My point bein’: I understand what yer feeling, son, but your friend wouldn’t want you to be mopin’ around - not when there’s things to be done,” Willy explained, placing a firm hand on Kent’s shoulder. 

Kent thought about this for a moment. He looked back at the garment in his hands, starting deeply into the crimson markings - the ones that transferred when he held Danny close to him - and exhaled a deep breath. Willy’s words did have some substance, but Kent wasn’t sure he could “move on” - just like that, as if Danny shouldn’t be next to him and not a cold lump on some metal slab. Kent thought back to Danny’s final request - where he told Kent to live on, for Jodi. Kent knew it wouldn’t be easy - and that he’d probably struggle along the way - but he also knew how true those words were. As much as he hated to admit it, he now had something to lose and he couldn’t let that happen. 

He looked back up at Willy and nodded. Kent hesitated a moment, thinking to himself once again. He hoped this is what Danny would want, but there was no way of knowing. Kent promised himself he’d keep trying - to keep going, to keep living - all like Danny had said. He pushed himself into a standing position before handing Willy the soiled uniform. 

“Ah, yeah,” Willy started, as if he remembered what he was originally doing in this cabin, he looked at Kent - his gaze softening slightly - and spoke once again, “We’re havin’ a small ceremony for your friend. It’s this afternoon. Attend if you can, but I won’t blame ya if you can’t.” 

Kent listened to his words, his face falling as he did so. He knew this was coming. Yet, learning they were having a funeral made everything seem much more… real. It caused Kent to feel like, once the ceremony was over, he’d have nothing left to remember his friend - nothing but his own memories, and those would fade, eventually. He remained quiet as he thought. 

Willy noticed his silence and looked at his glum expression. He glanced around - making sure no one was sneakily eavesdropping - before moving closer to Kent and whispering. 

“Don’t tell anyone, but I managed to snag a copy of yer friend’s I.D. tag,” Willy admitted, pulling a small, metal object from his many coat pockets. Once it was placed in Kent’s palm, he cleared his throat and continued, “The original will be sent t’ the boy’s family, fer obvious reasons.. But, I managed t’ pull ah… a few strings and got ya a copy. Let’s just say… someone in the management office owed me a favor.” He gave Kent a secretive wink before patting him on the back. 

“Well, I best be on me way back. I’ve still got other cadets to notify,” Willy spoke as he exited the small room. 

Kent watched him leave before inspecting the small object in his hands. It was similar to his own tag - just stating the basics (name/rank/I.D. number/etc) - but it felt different, somehow. The fact that it belonged to someone else - to someone he was close to - made it feel…special, in a bad way. Kent took a deep breath, looking at the tag once again, before gently slipping it into his uniform pocket. He’d have to put it in a safe place to avoid losing it. He was grateful to Willy - for getting it for him - but Kent couldn’t help but feel bittersweet. He shouldn’t have this, it should be with Danny’s belongings. With Danny. 

Kent walked back to the soldier’s quarters, silent and deep in thought. When he entered, however, he marched toward Danny’s bunk instead of his own. It was much neater than the rest - perfectly made sheets, neatly tucked beneath the mattress. That was the thing about Danny– he was always neat and tidy (and often scolded Kent and Lee for their chronic messiness or lateness, affectionately, of course). Kent sat down on the edge of the mattress - silently apologizing to Danny for ruining his neat bed - and took the tag out of his pocket once again. He turned the cool metal in his hands, absentmindedly tracing his thumb over the engraving. Kent was too deep in his thought and didn’t seem to notice the sound of approaching footsteps, nor the whine of the door’s hinges as he was pushed open. 

“Hey, I’m back,” The person spoke as they opened the door, glancing around at the mostly empty room with a confused look. It was Lee, who had just returned from his “secret scouting mission”. His eyes landed on Kent and his confusion grew even more. 

Kent glanced up, his expression unreadable. He looked at his friend, scanning him up and down, and noticed a small bundle of assorted flowers in his left hand and a wide smile plastered across his face. It made Kent sick that Lee seemed so happy at a time like this. And then it dawned on him, Lee didn’t know what happened. 

“Kent? Where’s Danny?” Lee asked, his smile dropping as he looked around the room. “I told him to wait here - that I’d be back after a short walk,” Lee added. 

Kent’s lips formed a small line, though his eyes shone with sadness. He patted the spot next to him and waited for Lee to approach. 

“Where the hell have you been?” Kent spoke, slight anger seeping into his voice. 

“Well, like I told Danny, I went on a little… mission. I just needed time to think,” Lee explained, taken aback by the anger in Kent’s voice. Was he missing something? 

When Kent didn’t respond, Lee gave an awkward chuckle before rubbing the back of his neck. He continued, “While I was out there, I was replaying Danny’s words in my mind.. I couldn’t seem to wrap my head around the idea that he liked me, y’know?” 

“And then, I thought even more, and I realized, hey! I actually really enjoy Danny’s company, but like, in a different way than I enjoy yours,” Lee rambled, a faint blush covering his cheeks. He continued, “So, I realized I must like him, too! And I had the bright idea to collect him some flowers - just to tell him how much he meant to me, you know? My grandma taught me the meaning behind some flowers and I wanted to look for those specifically.” 

Lee sheepishly took the assortment of flowers from behind his back and held them up for Kent to see. It was a collection of mismatched flowers, hastily thrown together and tied with a small string so they were easier to hold. However, the most prominent of the flowers was a giant sunflower (which represents adoration, happiness, loyalty, and longevity). 

“Unfortunately, they were harder to find than I anticipated.. I had to walk three blocks! And, when I started back, I got… a little lost. I ended up being gone longer than I thought, and now.. I can’t seem to find Danny anywhere.” 

“Lee,” Kent started, looking at his friend with a saddened expression, “There’s something.. Something you need to know.” 

“Why do you look so sad, Kent?” Lee asked, his brows furrowing in concern. He tried to lighten the mood with a small joke, “It’s not like someone died. I was only gone for a few hours!”

Lee looked at Kent’s face, noticing he wasn’t laughing. He gulped a bit, his eyes widened. “It’s not like someone died…, right..?” Lee asked warily. 

Kent took a small inhale before reaching over and gently grabbing Lee’s hand. He looked into his eyes, giving the hand a gentle squeeze, before softly speaking, “Danny’s dead, Lee.” 

“What?” Lee exclaimed, his face paling at the news. 

“He’s dead. Happened this morning,” Kent clarified, his own expression becoming grim. 

“What.. W-what happened?” Lee asked. The bouquet of flowers tumbling out of his hand in shock. It hit the pillowy mattress beneath it hard enough to jostle the flowers - causing some petals to fall off. 

“He was shot near the west gate,” Kent explained, a small, defeated sigh leaving his lips. 

“Why was he near the west gate?” Lee asked, a mixture of confusion and sadness coating his words. 

“He was looking for you, Lee,” Kent replied, a small bout of accusation seeping into his voice. He gripped the metal tag in his hand so harshly that his knuckles turned white. “I had to watch Danny die, all because of you!” Kent spat out, his previous anger returning as he thought about their friend. In truth, he knew it wasn’t fair to blame Lee for what happened - if anything, Kent was just as guilty - but he couldn’t seem to control his emotions. 

“That’s not fair, man,” Lee argued. He held up his arms in defense before adding, “I didn’t know he’d follow me. I told him not to.” 

“Yeah, but he did,” Kent spoke, his anger being replaced with more sadness as he realized he just lashed out at his friend. 

He let out a small sigh, “I’m sorry, Lee. It’s not your fault, I know that..” 

“S’alright, man,” Lee said, though a flash of hurt crossed his face. Kent felt guilty once again. Leave it to him to make things worse, he thought. That’s all that seemed to happen lately. Everything would’ve been fine if he hadn’t opened his mouth. 

Kent reached over and wrapped Lee into a hug, patting his back as Lee leaned into him. Kent held Lee as his friend’s emotions seemed to overflow, a gentle stream of tears soaking Kent’s shoulder. 

“He really liked you, you know,” Kent offered, trying to cheer up his friend. He rubbed small, soothing circles on Lee’s lower back before adding, “You should’ve seen how he looked at you when you weren’t looking.” 

Lee sniffled as he pulled away. He glanced down at his bouquet, which was scattered across the bed sheet. He let out a small, humorless chuckle as he looked at the mess the two of them had made. He reached a hand up and brushed away a stray tear before speaking, “Danny would’ve killed us for sitting on his bed. And this mess…I think he would’ve ignored us for a week.” 

Kent sniffled as well, nodding his head, “Yeah.. Yeah he would’ve.” 

Kent reached down, picking up a few of the fallen petals and handing them to Lee. He let out a small sigh and remembered what Willy told him earlier. It was almost time for the ceremony. 

“C’mon, Lee,” He urged, pushing himself into a standing position. He reached a hand out and pulled Lee up as well before continuing, “It’s time to go say goodbye.” 

…

The two walked into the clearing - the same clearing where Kent and the other recruits had their orientation on the first day. Instead of the usual set up of bare stage and a sparse amount of folding chairs, it was decorated in muted colors, all chairs had been removed, and a line of rifle-bearing soldiers stood to Kent’s left. In front of the stage - instead of the usual microphone and sound system - stood a small platform, which held a steel box draped with the flag of the Ferngill Republic. Kent stuck his hand in his pocket and wrapped his fingers around the smooth metal of the I.D. tag. Lee took his place next to Kent, still clutching his now ruined bouquet, and looked absolutely heart broken. 

A man neither of the two had seen before took his place at the podium and began giving a long, rambling speech. 

“This soldier.. While I didn’t know him personally, I know he would’ve done anything for the Corps. His belief in our troops should be enough to keep us all going. This man died today. He died bravely - on a stakeout mission where he was trapped by several of our enemies.” 

As Kent listened to this, his blood began to boil. This was nothing like what happened, and this person was nothing like the Danny he knew. 

“This isn’t right,” Kent whispered to Lee, who also seemed to be getting increasingly angry at the mischaracterization of Danny. Lee clenched his fist at his side, gritting his teeth as the man continued spouting nonsense. 

“I’m gonna say something,” Lee said, rage fueled determination filling his voice.

“Lee, I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Kent warned, attempting to calm his friend down. Unfortunately, it seemed like Lee didn’t want to be reasoned with. He had vanished from Kent’s side and Kent looked around for him frantically. Eventually, his eyes landed on Lee climbing the steps to the stage, approaching the microphone. 

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” Lee interrupted the speaker, attempting to get the microphone from the stranger’s hands. 

“Young man, please, this is a memorial ceremony,” The man scolded, keeping the microphone out of Lee’s grasp. 

“You don’t know a single thing about him!” Lee spat. He managed to grab the microphone and turned to accuse the crowd on the stage, “You don’t even know his name!”

“I’m sure we do.. He’s.. Dennis something.” 

“His name was Daniel Sawyer. Everyone knew him as Danny,” Lee spoke, anger filling his voice at the disrespect his friend was receiving. His fist tightened by his side and Lee continued speaking, “Danny was the most amazing person I know. He wasn’t brave, sure, but he made up for it in other ways. He was super neat and always thought about other people. He only went out there that day because he was worried about me, of all people. And… and none of you people appreciated him. No one even liked him - except for his two friends! Stop lying to everyone and stop acting like you care.” 

“Vincent, that is enough,” The man scolded once again, a sneer forming on his lips.

“My name isn’t Vincent!” Lee spat, tears welling up in his eyes, “It’s Lee. Danny is the one who started that nickname, but I wouldn’t expect you guys to understand. I wouldn’t even expect you to care.” 

Kent watched the scene unfold and felt touched. He climbed the stairs and took the place on Lee’s left side. The two took turns screaming into the microphone - saying everything memorable about Danny, and, when they ran out, they started saying the “less memorable” things. 

“Disruptive! The both of you!” The man yelled, frustration building in his voice. “You two will be thoroughly punished for this.” He attempted to get closer to the boys, but was stopped by a firm hand against his shoulder. It was Willy, who had been watching this from the sidelines. 

“I don’t think that’s goin’ t’ happen, Corporal,” Willy spoke, giving the man a disappointed head shake. 

“Ah.. Colonel Dodgens… What I meant was.. I mean.. Um.. You know, hyperbole,” The corporal squeaked, visibly shrinking as Willy looked at him. 

“These boys are to respond to me orders, from now on. Orders from th’ big boss, Corporal..” Willy explained, crossing his arms over his chest. A disappointed look flashed over his face as he looked at the man once again, “An’ I don’t take too kindly to other officers threatenin’ me soldiers.” 

“Right.. Um,” The man gulped, his eyes bulging, “I’ll be leaving now.” 

“Oh, and Corporal?” Willy called out as the other man had turned to leave. 

He turned back around, “Yes, Colonel?” 

“Learn your soldiers better next time, eh?” Willy scolded, shaking his head in disbelief before adding, ”Don’t go shoutin’ that generic bullshit every time one of ‘em dies.”

The corporal then turned and scampered off - looking like an animal with their tail between their legs. Willy approached the two boys. He watched them, shouting into the microphone until their voices turned hoarse. He placed a hand on each of their shoulders and turned them to look at him. 

“Well, that was certainly a ceremony, eh, lads?” He spoke, a small hearty chuckle leaving his lips. “Certainly the most excitin’ one I’ve ever witness, let me tell ya.”  

“Willy!” Kent exclaimed, happy to see the old ship captain. He then grimaced, realizing that they had just created a big ruckus. “Are.. are you mad?” He asked, glancing down at his boots. 

“Nah, I’m not mad,” Willy spoke, shaking his head, “It takes a lot more to ruffle me feathers. Nah.. that corporal was just a.. You know.” He chuckled once again, sending the two a wink instead of finishing his sentence. 

He glanced down and noticed an incredibly crumpled bouquet. Willy scooped it up and handed it to Lee. 

“I believe these are yours, son.” Willy spoke as Lee took the flowers from his hand. 

“How did you-?” Lee asked, confusion washing over his face. He couldn’t remember telling anyone but Kent about his flowers. 

“I have me ways, lad,” Willy answered. He then gave Lee a gentle shove towards the coffin before adding, “I think he’s waitin’ for ya. So, go ahead. Tell him.” 

Lee gulped and slowly approached the coffin. It was ajar, surprisingly, and Lee glanced in to see Danny’s still face - void of all emotion and icy cold. Lee gripped the edge of the steel box, feeling his breathing hitch in his throat. 

“Hey, Dan,” Lee started, his eyes beginning to water. “I can’t help but feel like this is all my fault, you know? Kent told me the only reason you died was because you were trying to find me..” 

“I’m sorry. I’m not something to chase after, so I really don’t know why you did that.. I’m immature, and… and dumb, and I’ve made my fair share of bad decisions, but you still saw something in me. I don’t know what you saw. I don’t think I’ll ever know.” 

“You know, you always did things I didn’t understand, Danny. You always put up with me even though I was always late. You stood up for everyone - even when you had no one to stand up for you. I remember my first day.. How Ray did his usual idiocy and began picking on me. How you stepped in to stop him. How you told me about your own first day - and mentioned how rough you had it. How you trusted me enough to let me know your deepest secret - something the other guys would almost certainly judge you for - the fact that you liked guys. How I never judged you and always encouraged you to be who you are - were..”

“You were always so brave, in your own way. You inspired me, Danny. I always looked up to you. It was only when you finally told me how you felt that I realized that I, too, felt that way. I.. know you probably can’t hear me, but I love you, Dan. I’ve always loved you - and I only realized it too late. I know I can’t bring you back, despite how desperately I want to, but if I could, I would wrap my arms around you and tell the whole world how I felt about you - regardless of who heard. I’d scream it from every rooftop, I’d yell until I lost my voice, and I’d wake the whole city just to tell them how much I love you. And that still wouldn’t be enough. You mean so much to me, Danny, so you better be waiting for me. Wherever you are.” 

Once Lee finished his speech, he sniffled, wiping away a few stray tears that had begun to crawl down his face. He took a deep breath before placing the bouquet in Danny’s cold hand, his hand lingering against Danny’s for the briefest moment before he pulled it back. There was something bittersweet about the action: of using a bouquet - intending for the sharing of love, joy, and other shared positive feelings - as a final parting gift. Lee felt his chest tighten as he thought about it, about how happy he had originally been at the thought of giving it to Danny, about how sad he was when he actually gave it to him. He never imagined it would be under these circumstances. Lee had longed for happier times and silently scolded himself for his indecision. Why did he leave that morning? And, if he hadn’t, would things have ended differently? Lee wasn’t sure. All he knew was that it felt like a part of his soul had been ripped away, leaving a gaping hole that ached and groaned with the slightest touch. The rawness of his soul would never heal - or, if it did, it would happen very slowly - but how else are you supposed to cope when losing something so integral - so important - to who you are. Lee would not be “Lee” without Danny. 

Lee slowly returned to Kent’s side and was immediately pulled into a side hug. Lee rested his head against Kent’s shoulder and let out a breath he was unaware he was holding. 

“I’m gonna miss him, man,” Lee said, closing his eyes.

“Me too, man,” Kent added with a small nod, “Me too.” 

The two stayed there for a moment - taking in all they had left, which was each other. Their friendship wouldn’t be the same without Danny, they both knew this, but they also knew that they had to stay strong (and stay together) for Danny’s sake. He would’ve wanted them to keep going. 

Willy approached the two and gave a small sigh, “I hate to interrupt this moment, lads,” He started, moving between the two and causing them to look at him before continuing, “But tomorrow, your lives change.” 

“What do you mean, Willy?” Kent asked, glancing up at the older man.

“Tomorrow,” Willy started, exhaling as if the next news was going to be painful before stating, “You boys move to active combat.”

[taurussuitjake]

safety net

hi guys, this is my first fic! i haven’t written fic in soooooo long so please bear with me here lol, here’s a cute little friends-to-lovers with Danny that will have a part 2 with a little more steam to follow! ENJOY 🌝 2.6k words (i think)

warnings: depression, lack of self care, platonic intimacy, fluffy as FUCK, best friend! Danny.

it’s been 6 days since you left your bedroom.

october brings about an emptiness that swallows you whole. you can’t seem to put your finger on why, exactly… but nonetheless, that’s about the time your seasonal depression sets in.

while your brain will tell you that everyone around you is burdened by the rain cloud that hangs over you these days, they definitely put up a hell of a fight. Jake and Josh have both texted you every morning and every night to see how you’re feeling and ask if you need help with anything. Sam calls you at least once a day just to try and make you laugh (and it usually works, even if it’s just a little bit.)

but Danny is texting you consistently throughout the days that pass, calling you around the same time everyday, bringing you food, staying over on the weekends just so you don’t have too much alone time. Danny is your very best friend, and he literally will not let you forget it, now more than ever.

your house is still. it’s quiet. you can only imagine that if the void had a sound… it sounds like this. it’s 6PM in the middle of october, so not only is it still, but it’s cold and dark. your ear picks up the sound of a key in your deadbolt, the turning of the lock and the click of your front door. there’s only two people who have a key to your house… and your mom always calls before she comes over.

Danny. thank God, it’s Danny.

while you were still in your silence and comfortable in your solitude, you’d be lying if you said that Danny’s presence didn’t make you feel better. even though the sun has set, it’s like you have all the sunshine you need in your doorway at this very moment.

he doesn’t call for you, he just slips off his shoes and pads his way to your bedroom door, which is left slightly ajar to keep air flow circulating throughout the house. the slit of dim light from the hallway gets wider as he lightly pushes your door open.

“how is Y/N today?” he asks, walking around to your side of the bed and taking a seat beside you. you turn to face him with tears brimming your eyelids, threatening to loosen the floodgates, but he notices immediately.

“hey-hey, sit up. c’mere.” he demanded ever so gently. you oblige, wiping your tears away with the sleeve of your shirt.

“what’s got you upset?” he whispers as he pushes the stray hair out of your face with his calloused hands, “what can i do?” he asks.

you hesitate to speak for a moment, embarrassed of what you’re about to admit.

“Danny, i haven’t showered in 6 days. i feel so gross but i don’t wanna leave my bed. i feel so exhausted.” you choke out, tears streaming at this point. “i almost don’t want you this close to me because it’s probably very obvious.” you admit.

“Y/N,” he pauses, a merciful smile splayed across his face. it brings you a small sense of comfort. “it doesn’t matter whether it’s obvious or not, it’s hard to take care of yourself when you don’t have the energy to do so. i understand how it feels. don’t be embarrassed or anything.” he reassures you.

it lifts a small weight off your shoulders, visibly. his eyes gleam a little at the sight of you sitting up a little straighter. it makes you crack a smile for the first time since Sam called you this morning.

you both sit there, letting the silence fill the room. the only audible thing you have to hold onto is the sound of Danny’s steady breathing. by this time, he’s grabbed both of your hands into his and starts rubbing the back of your hands with the pad of his thumb. it’s like he just knows. he knows how to make it all better. the silence brings about an idea- a strange one- but an idea nonetheless.

“this is a strange request, but it’s something you could do.” you speak lowly into the space around the both of you.

“whatever you need, Y/N.” he assures you.

you pause, looking up and your ceiling, debating on whether or not you should speak the thought into existence. “would you mind sitting in the bathroom with me while i shower?” you say, finally.

it takes him a moment to grasp what exactly you’re asking of him, so you feel the need to damage control and elaborate on what exactly you want him to do.

“i don’t mean anything risqué, i just think it might help me if you sit on the counter or something while i shower. kind of like body doubling.” you pause for a moment. “it holds me accountable to complete the task.”

he analyzes your face for a moment, he can tell that you’re starting to get a little nervous, as he hasn’t actually answered your question.

“yeah- yeah, i think i can do that.” he nods his head subtly, a small smile breaks across his face. you’re not sure if it’s because he’s happy that you’re wanting to get out of bed and do something for the first time in almost a week, or if he’s happy that you asked him a favor of that nature.

he gets up from the bed and warns you as he reaches up to pull the ceiling fan chain to turn the light on. you grab your respective necessities: a fresh pair of underwear, set of pj’s, a towel and an old t-shirt to dry your body and hair with. meanwhile, Danny waltzes to your bathroom to start running your shower, making sure it’s comfortably warm for you when you eventually get into it.

you make your way into the bathroom, and he steps out for a moment, grabbing the door handle before closing it, “just to give you some privacy. just call for me when you want me to come back in, okay?” he requests. you nod as he closes the door quietly.

you remove your clothes and throw them in your hamper, almost relieved at the feeling of the fabric no longer touching your skin. you avoid looking at yourself in the mirror, in fear that it’ll talk you out of doing anything in favor of showing yourself some love. you push back the shower curtain just enough to shimmy behind it and finally let the warm water rush over you. you take a deep breath in to fill your lungs with the hot steam. you exhale. so far, so good.

“you can come in now.” you call for Danny. you hear the handle turn and the door click open and close. he shuffles across the bathroom floor and sits atop the closed toilet seat.

“how ya feelin’?” he asks as soon as he sits down.

you snicker tiredly, “first impressions? i’m just glad i can feel something other than my clothes.”

he chuckles, it almost resembles a sigh of relief. you’re trying. and he’s so happy to see you trying.

you make small conversation as you conduct your normal shower routine. he tells you about his week this far and it almost makes you wanna join the real world again. you took a temporary leave of absence from work for two weeks to try and get yourself together after about three days of being on autopilot while slowly sinking into whatever hole you’ve been in for the past week.

“Danny?” you say meekly.

“yeah?” he answered you almost immediately. it made your heart jump a little.

“thank you for being here.” you reply.

he doesn’t say anything for a few seconds, then you hear his lowly tone say “i just want you to be okay, i’ll be here however and whenever you need me.” as the words passed through his lips, the love that dripped from his voice evaporated into the shower steam you slowly breathed in. for the first time in a while, you felt something other than nothing.

“i think i’m ready to get out now, will you hand me my towel, please?” you changed the subject before you started overthinking the moment. you see the towel peel through the slit of the shower curtain and take it from Danny’s hand. you wrap yourself up in your towel, tucking one of the corners back into the towel to hold it in place at your chest. you began to feel exhaustion creep up on you again, and your hair was still sopping wet.

“do you need me to step out for a minute?”

for a reason you’re going to assume was simply feeling too drained, you begin to cry again. you sniffled and he must’ve heard you and known what was happening behind the shower curtain.

“Y/N, what’s wrong? what happened?” he sounded a little panicked, you felt guilty for making him worry.

“i feel like i sound so stupid for this.” you say, nearly sobbing.

“for what?” he asks, concerned. like he was on the edge of his seat.

“i need to dry my hair but i still feel too drained to do the work. i feel so fucking useless! i’m so tired of feeling so useless!” what started as a gentle cry, ended as a temper tantrum.

“Y/N, you’re not useless.” he assured you calmly. “are you covered?” he asked.

“yeah, why?” you asked, not prepared for him to draw back the shower curtain slowly.

“c’mere. let me dry your hair.” he already had the t-shirt in his hands and a soft smile on his face. he grabs both of your hands, “watch your step.” he offers as he looks down to make sure you had the right footing to step out of the tub and onto the bath mat. you both look back up at each other simultaneously, and his hands reach up to your face to push all of the stray strands stuck to your face from the water. he offers a warm smile.

“there you are.” he says, relief woven in his phrase.

in that moment, you could diagnose a present emotion. you could diagnose happiness for the first time in (what felt like) forever. you held back tears, for it was no longer time to cry.

he gently places his hands atop your shoulders and motions you to turn around.

“i’m gonna dry your hair a little, okay?” he says. you nod your head and tip it back just a little so that he can get the under layer of your hair.

his hands tousle through your now damp strands, working diligently to get as much moisture out of your hair as possible. you feel his body heat vanish for a moment and you slump your shoulders at the loss of him being close to you. he returns not half a second later and he begins brushing the ends of your hair gently.

“you don’t have t-“ he cut you off.

“respectfully, if i don’t do it… i’m not sure you will.” he chuckled a little. he was right, you couldn’t even deny it. you chuckled along with him for a brief moment, as the bristles crept up closer and closer to your scalp. when he was done brushing through the tangled, he even parted your hair for you, just as you part it all the time and tamed both sides afterwards.

you turn to face him, unsure of what to do or say. a ‘thank you’ would suffice, but your body moved faster than your brain did, and you pulled him into a hug. he wrapped around you so graciously. he physically made you feel whole. like he glued all of your pieces back together. he planted a gentle kiss on the top of your head and squeezed you just a little tighter before he let go and pulled away just enough to take in your features. he scanned your face for any sign of discomfort, and to his delight, there was none.

“i’m gonna let you change into your clothes and then i’ll come back in if you need me to.” he nodded while slowly peeling himself away from you. he didn’t want to let go, but he didn’t want you to lose your winning streak. you nodded back in agreement and turned toward the counter and quickly dressed yourself after you heard the door close. after your clothes were on, you took the opportunity to brush your teeth. you were pretty good about doing that at least once a day since you fell into your bout, but maybe this would set you back on your normal nightly routine.

after you were done, you opened the door to see Danny stopping mid-pace in front of the door and offering a wide smile. “how do you feel?”

you smile at the sight of him. also, in the name of hopefulness.

“i feel better. very much so.” you exhale slowly, still gleaming a little.

“i’m so glad, you look so… yourself.” he said.

you take in your surroundings for a moment, trying so hard to chain yourself to this present moment. you can feel the way he’s watching you attentively. you got confirmation of that as soon as your eyes landed back on him, because he was already looking at you.

“i love you.” you said, just above a whisper. and not the ‘i love you’ that you give him when you guys part ways or hang up the phone. this felt different as it left your lips.

and he knew exactly what you meant. it’s almost like he was waiting for you to admit it. out of all the close friends you could’ve asked… you asked him. he’s the first person you run to with anything; exciting news, a bad mood, sadness… Danny was your safety net. your truest love. your very best friend. and he knew. and he waited for as long as he had to. for this moment.

he smiles gently, stepping closer to you with caution; he’s reading your expressions like a book. he sees no sign of discomfort, as he inches closer to you to close the gap in between you two, almost completely. he lifts his hand to push the hair in your face back behind your ear once more, traces his fingertips along your jawbone and rests his index finger and thumb on the tip of your chin. he flicks his eyes up and down, from your eyes and back down to your lips. you allow fate to take hold of this moment and stand motionless, your breathing hitching slightly as he inches closer to your face. his eyes flutter closed, yours following close behind. you feel the peaks of his pillow-soft lips ghost over yours. within seconds, his lips are fully attached to yours. if this was the kiss of life, you were revived with great success. you felt the heat in your cheeks radiate and your heart thrum in your chest. it was beautiful; it was missed so dearly.

he pulled away slowly. his eyes fluttered open, bliss warping his vision only for a moment. the caution that lingered previously had returned; he read you for any signs of discomfort before he spoke.

“i love you too. so much. you’ll never understand how much.” he gushed, smiling blissfully.

“i’m so glad you’re here.” you returned the smile.

“right back at you.” he said, pulling you into his chest. you were lost in his heartbeat and the rise and fall motions of his chest.

[cambria-writes]

meant to post this a goodly while ago but it's been sitting in my drafts. i've been getting antsy not being able to post anything finished yet, so here's a backup plan i forgot about lol

wrote this a few years ago, but i do still genuinely love this. it's got the vibes i honestly always look for. despite being out of season, i hope you can like it too!

pairing: none, vaguely edward elric x oc rating: G warnings: spoilers for conqueror of shamballa, mostly angst tbh, mistaken identity, this is the isekai version of fma, a bit of fluff, this is mostly kind of wintery cute, not much else tbh

There's no good reason for Edward to be keeping the windows open when it's below freezing outside. When I get to their apartment, the door is unlocked. I don't bother knocking and simply let myself in. I quietly take off my boots after closing the door behind me, but keep my coat on. Even the heating's turned off. Is it something that reminds him of home? Doesn't Alphonse have anything to say about it?

I busy myself going around closing all the windows and brushing the snow off the sills. Pull the curtains open as far as they go. The living room first, then the dining room, Alphonse's room, the guest room. I falter in front of Edward's door, still slightly ajar. I can't hear him snoring. Is he asleep?

Even though my knock is gentle, the door slowly opens. Edward is sat up, propped against the headboard of his bed, a book open on his lap and several notebooks and loose sheets of paper strewn around him. The winter breeze makes his open curtains flutter. I pull my gloves off and stow them in my coat pockets and move to the window to close it.

"Don't close it all the way," a mutter comes from behind me. I oblige; I leave the window cracked a little less than an inch. Crank up the heating on the radiator. I can't see my breath, but it must be a just thing. I turn around and ball my fists at my hips.

"I know, I know," Edward dismisses with a wave. His eyes are still closed and his head is still leaned back. The book in his lap is closed, and he carefully puts it aside. "Is Al home yet?"

"Not yet no," I reply, feeling the frustration slowly leak away from me. It's hard to stay angry at him, like this. I let my arms fall by my sides and look to his bedroom door. "Have you eaten anything today?"

Edward throws an arm over his eyes and groans. Guess not.

"I hope you're okay with potato stew," I say over my shoulder, striding out of the bedroom, past the dining room and into the kitchen. I let my coat slide down my arms and toss it haphazardly at a chair. Don't really care when it falls off. Throw my scarf in the same general direction.

While I busy myself peeling and chopping potatoes and a few other vegetables, I can hear Edward shuffling around in his room. Probably gathering all his books and loose papers into... some kind of disorganized and precarious tower I'm bound to topple over later.

"So about tomorrow," I call out, over the sound of the boiling pot of water. The door to his room slowly clicks shut behind him. His hair's an absolute mess.

"What about it?" He asks, stopping in front of the coat on the floor before picking it up and letting himself sink into a chair at the dining table.

"Gracia invited all of us to dinner. Did you already forget?" When I turn around after carefully sliding the cut vegetables into the boiling pot, it's to see Edward wrapping my scarf around his neck. He pauses for a second, long enough to look lie someone with his hand stuck in the cookie jar, but eventually shrugs his shoulders.

"I still don't see why we have to go if Officer Asshole is gonna be there," Edward grumbles, pushing the wrapped scarf further up his face and looking away. "We're not... Al and I aren't even religious."

The correction stings. But I let it slide. It can't be helped if I look like her.

"It doesn't have to be about religion," I point out, adding salt into the pot and stirring absently. "It's just an excuse to get together and have good food. It can be, uh..." Frown and stare at the table before looking back up at Edward. "The word for 'décontracté'? Relaxed?"

"Casual," he replies easily, frowning in turn. "I guess. Can we leave early?"

"Not before gin and coffee."

Edward groans in time with the squeaking of the door's hinges. Alphonse shakes the snow from his hair and coat before realizing I'm at the stove.

"Anne! I didn't know you were coming over!" Alphonse rushes over, drops a kiss of each cheek, and peers over the simmering pot. I slap a hand with the ladle.

"Get those wet boots off this floor you brute! It's bad enough you dragged in the tempête with you." Alphonse has the decency to look sheepish before scuttering back to the front door and removing his boots. Wipes down the floor with his feet with a dishtowel I throw at him.

"How long til that's done? I'm starving," Ed laments from his chair, leaning back onto its hind two legs.

"Maybe you wouldn't be starving if you'd actually eaten today, Alchimiste."

Edward bristles at the name. "I told you to stop calling me that."

"J'arrêterai quand ça sera faux."

And the conversation ends there, until Alphonse sweeps back in at the table to speak to his brother. They both are too absorbed to pay attention to me, and that's perfectly fine.

I had just been moved to Germany when I first met Edward.

I had been hired by a prominent physicist for both my knowledge and ease with a typewriter. With the glowing commendations of one professor in particular, I had managed to find work in Germany. As a woman, having studied in medical sciences as much as was allowed, this was more than I could have hoped for. My employer treated me well enough; made no sexual advances and never alluded to wanting anything more than what my brain could provide.

And the pay was decent enough. Worth the glares and snide remarks from some of my peers, at the very least.

It hadn't been a week before I was accosted. I had been returning from a local shop after dropping off one of the several typewriters that had been left in disrepair. Someone kept shouting, "Anna!" I didn't believe someone was calling out for me until a hand, too solid and uncomfortable, landed on my shoulder.

I turned and moved to slap the arm away, but it barely moved. My knuckles were sore from it. Cradling my hand, I took a second to look at the man who'd grabbed me.

"That is you, right? Anna?" Golden eyes were wide in hope and disbelief. Whoever this man was had seen in me someone he'd clearly been missing.

Nevermind that I had never in my years seen eyes as pure a gold as that.

"Désolée, mais..." First, he frowned. And then it was like a stone wall passed in front of his face. "I'm sorry, you must be confusing me with someone else, sir. My name is Annelise."

The man's arm, until then still hover at my shoulder, slowly fell as he took a step back. As he opened his mouth to, no doubt, apologize, his wince didn't escape me.

"Attendez, votre—your arm. It is—ah, merde. C'est quoi..? Artificial?" I tried, gesturing vaguely at his right arm.

Again, the man frowned, but looked more like he'd been punched in the gut. Grabbed at his right shoulder with his left hand and dug his thumb in.

"Yeah, it... Sorry, I didn't mean to bother you." He turned and took a step to leave. I don't know what possessed me to grab onto his good—real—arm to stop him.

"J'ai dit d'attendre, goodness. If the joint is sore, I can help you," I breathed out, taking a step forward. "I studied medical sciences in Grenoble. I may not be who you hope for, and I may not be a doctor, but I can help." I hesitantly let go of the man's arm. He looked down at the sidewalk for a moment, then out across the street, then off into the distance.

A change seemed to come over him when he turned around. Eyes gleaming and grin sharp, he extended his right hand out to me.

"I'm Edward Elric. Sorry if I scared you. It's nice to meet you, Annelise."

I sighed in relief, and shook his hand. Didn't flinch at the pressure he undoubtedly intended to be painful, and gave him a firm shake.

"You worked with Monsieur Heiderich, yes? On the rocket demonstration last year?"

Edward's eyes widened almost comically. "You—yeah, yeah that was us. I'm surprised you know about that."

"My employer takes great interest in the advance of technology." I let go of his hand and turned back to the direction I had been going in. Probably... Doctor Moore wouldn't mind if I brought in a stray. Especially one with a brain. "Also, I'm... sorry for your loss."

Edward followed next to me, hands in his pockets, as I lead him to the office. His expression felt bittersweet. "Thanks, but it's not like we were that close. Where are you taking me, anyways?"

"The office I work in. Doctor Moore has a few tools that—"

"Wait," Edward stopped, again, in the middle of the sidewalk. Turned me around again with another hand on my shoulder. The movement of his right arm seemed even more unnatural, now, and he didn't even try to mask the hiss of pain. "Doctor Moore? Physics and its Relation to the Unseen and Occult? That Moore?"

It was my turn to be wide-eyed and caught by surprise.

"Y-yes, that—you've heard of him?"

There was a darkness that passed in Edward's eyes, just for a moment. Something I couldn't understand. It was gone before I could think to ask about it.

We spent the next fifteen minutes walking and talking about Doctor Moore's theories, comparing personal interpretations of his work, and discussing Edward's prosthetic arm. Somewhere along the line, I learned that his left leg had also been lost. He didn't explain how, and I didn't ask why. The rise and violence of the nationalist regime alone had wreaked so much havoc. It wasn't my place to ask.

Once at the office, Doctor Moore didn't even ask why I had brought a stranger—and a man, no less—along with me. He simply offered Edward coffee and a seat by his desk. I didn't even need to do anything. I was promptly shooed away to continue working with the only functional typewriter as the Doctor worked on Edward's arm. He may have chosen physicist as a working title, but Doctor Moore was, at his core, a doctor. He was more than happy to help Edward with his arm.

As well as his damaged nerves. And sprained muscles, and torn ligament, and—

Needless to say, Edward ended up coming by the office every few weeks, after that. When I asked, before he left one day, he simply shrugged and stated that it was easier this way than constantly being judged by someone in the public practice. I would stay at my desk after that, quiet, serve coffee when asked. There was no doubt in my mind that Edward was there to dig into Doctor Moore's mind just as the doctor was happy to do the same in kind.

"At least make an effort to look happy, you sans-coeur," I whisper harshly, elbowing Edward in the ribs, careful not to drop the package in my hands.

"What are you talking about. I'm absolutely ecstatic."

"Pince-sans-rire."

The door opens to Gracia's glowing smile, the smell of mulled wine and the chatter of a small crowd. The roar of the fire I know is burning is buried under laughter.

"Boys! Annelise, I'm glad you could make it. Come in!" The opens the door wider. "Maes is by the fire with a few friends from the college. Noah should still be in the kitchen." The brother go through first; Edward practically makes a beeline to the kitchen, barely taking the time to toe off his shoes. Alphonse heads for the sitting room. As Gracia closes the door behind me, I stay by the landlady and offer her the blue, ribbon-tied box.

"Félicitations, Madame Hughes. I hope the pregnancy is going well," I say, handing over the box. The mother-to-be looks surprised, for a moment, before her face crumbles into grateful happiness.

"Thank you, Annelise," Gracia whispers, a hand on her swollen belly as she cradles the box to her chest. "For the gift, but for taking care of Edward and Alphonse. I know they're a handful."

I take care of putting my own coat and boots away, wrap my shawl tighter around my shoulders and follow Gracia to the kitchen. Alphonse is chuckling at something and Edward seems like he's violently trying not to smile. The darker-skinned woman, whom I assume is Noah, cuts herself off mid-sentence when she sees me. Gracia throws me a knowing look before puttering off somewhere else in the house to deposit the gift-box. Noah rushes over to me and clasps my hands in hers.

It takes a few uncomfortable second before she looks up at me. Tension seems to ease from her shoulders.

"It truly is good to finally meet you," she says quietly, slowly letting go of my hands. Her voice sounds like honey and silk. She returns to the counter where she was preparing what seems like dough for a pie. I can't help but stay riveted in place, looking up at the brothers.

Edward shrugs and Alphonse looks something akin to apologetic.

The Rroma are like that, I suppose.

The rest of the evening goes on mostly without any other strange incidents. I help Gracia and Noah in the kitchen after they manage to chase Alphonse and Edward out. Noah and I revel in the mulled wine and laugh together at the stories Gracia tells of the boys while they were still her tenants. When the turkey is ready and pulled out of the oven, you can feel the conversation dying in the rest of the home as everyone remembers that this is meant to be a Christmas dinner.

The table in the dining room is in fact two tables shoved together, and even then it's a tight fit for the twenty three people present. Maes offers a toast, in general at first, but then goes into specifics about a "return home to those who are lost" that seems to personally affect Edward and Noah more than anyone else.

The food is delicious. And I have never tasted a pie so sweet.

Once stomachs are full and eyes are glossy with satisfaction, coffee and tea are brought out. Edward and Maes ask for a Brandy nearly at the same time. I ask for another glass of wine. A man named Jean—presumably a friend of Maes—excuses himself to go smoke outside, but not before he's served a glass of Brandy of his own.

Most everyone retreats to the sitting and drawing rooms. Gracia and Noah make quick work of clearing the two tables in the dining room. Edward and I are the only ones who remain seated. I feel the pocket sewn into my shawl even more acutely at the moment.

"I know you don't celebrate Christmas, usually, but..." I start slowly, looking down into the deep maroon of my glass. I put it down on the table in front of me, and pull the small envelope from my shawl. "I have—someone.... merde que c'est dur à expliquer."

"It'd be easier if you didn't say it in French," Edward says, and though the tone his joking, his face seems uncertain.

"Not like you can't understand it," I mutter in reply. Take a deep breath, and slide the envelope across the table to him. "For a while, now, I've been having dreams I can't understand. Everyone looks the same, but everything is different."

Edward's hands slam on the table as he stands up. Excuses himself and sits back down when Gracia rushes over to see if everything's alright. She leaves, but only reluctantly, and only after I assure her it's fine.

"She had a message for you—the one I share a face with. I don't know if she knew I could see through her eyes, but I wrote it down as soon as I woke up." I wring my hands in my laps. I'm not sure how he'll take it. "Joyeux Noël, I suppose."

So many emotions cross through Edward's face when he tears open the envelope and unfolds the several pages inside. The complex circle the Other Me had drawn was hard to replicate and took several days—and dreams—to remember correctly. The notes were even harder to copy down, originally written in a code I couldn't begin to understand on my own. Without reading much of the letter proper, Edward lets his hands fall onto the table quietly and looks up at me.

"This... you know what this is, right?"

I hesitate before nodding. "I wasn't sure if your stories were ever true. I'm sorry—I know you and Alphonse always insist they are, but it's hard to believe. But doubt is a part of the scientific method, right? But think I understand, now. As much as I can. And if a little sacrifice means helping you and your brother go back home..."

Edward stands abruptly—again—and begins walking away. I stand up to go after him before realizing he's making his way around the table, pages still held tightly in his left hand.

I did not expect the tight embrace he wraps me in.

"Thank you," he whispers into my hair. My heart stutters. It takes a moment to decide to rest my hands on his sides.

"De rien," I whisper back, doing my best to ignore Gracia in the doorway and Maes sipping his drink somewhere behind me.

Edward seems to regain some sense of self and quickly holds me at arm's length away. His eyes are gleaming and he looks a second away from crying. I can't help but left out a breath of laughter.

"Sorry, I—it's just—"

"It's after coffee. Shall I go find your brother?"

Edward breaks into a smile, drops his arms by his side and tips his head back.

"Yeah. He'll want to head back when he sees this."

Gathering my shawl back over my shoulders, I quickly down the rest of my glass of wine, and venture out into the sitting room to find the younger brother. Jean has found a spot leaning against the fire place, warming his hands, and nods in my direction. Alphonse sits on one of the couches and talks animatedly with a dark-haired man, who greets me when I approach them. Introduces himself as simply Roy, and explains, as a matter of pure coincidence, that he will also be starting work under Doctor Moore after the holidays.

Eventually, once we manage to collectively pry ourselves away—from the other guests and Maes' incessant rambling about his wife—I let Edward and Alphonse walk ahead to talk among themselves. Edward won't be able to keep quiet until they get home, and Alphonse had firmly announced that they would walk me home no matter what.

As thick snowflakes lazily make their way down, onto the street and into my gloved hands, I begin to think that maybe this isn't too terrible. Maybe being a conduit to something bigger than myself is alright, if it means returning two lost boys home.

Put my hands into my coat pockets and amble behind the brothers.

This is fine.

French Translations :

Décontracté = relaxed, casual Tempête = storm, in this case, a snow storm Alchimiste = probably obvious, but alchemist J'arrêterai quand ça sera faux = I'll stop when it'll be false (lit.), I'll stop when it stops being true Désolée, mais... = Sorry, but... Attendez, votre-/ah merde. C'est quoi... = Wait, your-/ah shit. What is it... J'ai dit d'attendre = I said to wait Sans-coeur = no-heart (lit), heartless Pince-sans-rire = an expression used to describe someone with a very dry sense of humour Félicitations = congratulations Merde que c'est dur à expliquer = Shit is it hard to explain Joyeux Noël = Merry Christmas De rien = it's nothing

[barneswinterraven]

a small fluff piece about bucky based on a text my husband sent me (if you have the time!) : "i dont have the capacity to love anyone but you" it can have some angst, because the situation in which it was sent to me involved some, but it was a happy ending for us lol <3

Only You

Pairing — Avenger!Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Reader Summary — bucky loves someone, but maybe it's not her A/N — my first request!!! i apologize for only getting to this now, my academics have been making me tired all day :') thank you @kingfleury for this prompt. it may have become longer than i intended to

It has been several days since Y/N had any kind of interaction at all with Bucky Barnes. Actually, it's been 5 days and 4 hours.

It wouldn't bother Y/N much if they weren't practically joined at the hip before he started ignoring her. She keeps thinking back to their last interaction and if she had said or done anything wrong to deserve this silent treatment.

"Hey Buckybear, are we still on for movie night later" Bucky only frowns at her question and sighs. "Maybe we could take a rain check on that? I'm still pretty beat from our last mission and maybe you should take a rest first, considering that you were almost shot to death." Y/N gives him a smile and nods as they both walked back to their own rooms.

Nothing. From that last memory, Y/N can think of nothing that may have offended him. It was normal for them to have a movie night and it was normal for Bucky to take a sabbatical from everyone after a hell-bent mission.

But ever since that day, Bucky would take extra measures to not be in the same room as her, to not even at the slightest bit acknowledge her presence. If anyone has noticed this weird interaction between the two, nobody said anything.

The first few days, Y/N thought nothing of it. She thought that maybe Bucky was having some personal days considering everything that he has been through. So she left him alone to give him the space she thought he was silently asking for.

But now, Y/N was frustrated, stressed, anxious, and even annoyed. All these emotions bottled up made her walk up to Bucky's room and demand he explain what the fuck is wrong.

Taking a deep breath, she put up her fist to knock on his door when she noticed that it was left slightly ajar. "Hey, Bu-"

"Look, I love you. Ever since that day I met you, my heart was already beating for you. And that moment on the train, I felt like my heart was literally gonna stop at thought of losing you. I can't even bear to think of another day without you in my life."

Y/N heard every single word come out of Bucky's mouth and shifted her eyes. Steve. He's sitting right beside Bucky on his bed.

With a slow intake of breath, Y/N now understands. How could she have not noticed. Best friends since birth, of course someone was bound to fall in love.

But this discovery and realization only shattered her heart in pieces. Because she has already fallen in love with James Buchanan Barnes, her best friend.

Not wanting to ruin the moment inside the room, Y/N decided to leave. And just when it cannot get worse, her hip accidentally knocks on the door, further opening it.

Both men looked in her direction, her face going red. "Y/N, what are you doing here?" Bucky utters out.

Y/N can only gape her mouth open like a fish, no word falling out of her mouth.

"I'll leave you guys to talk" Steve stands and immediately leaves the room while giving Y/N a slight smile and a friendly wink.

"Look Buck, I heard your confession to Steve. And don't worry about it, I won't tell anyone. I'm just happy that you guys can now be open about your relationship." Y/N meekly tells Bucky, shifting her eyes to not look at him.

"What the hell are you talking about?" Realization sets on Bucky's face after thinking back to the words he said before he saw Y/N at his door.

"Doll, honey, you got it all wrong. Yes, I do love Steve but definitely not like that" Bucky can only laugh at how ridiculous this situation is.

"Bucky, it's 2022. You don't need to hide your sexuality. There's no need to be asha–"

"I'm gonna stop you right there. Look, I didn't want you to find out this way but, everything I said that you heard, all of that was meant to be for you. I know I have been a jerk these past few days, ignoring you and shit. But my head has just been a mess ever since our mission on the train. Back there, you almost died. And all I could think was that I was gonna lose you when I haven't even had you."

Tears were welling up on Y/N's face at Bucky's sudden confession. "But why were telling Steve all that stuff?"

Bucky shyly chuckles, his hand rubbing the nape of his neck. "He was trying to help me out what and how I was gonna confess to you. And now I may have ruined everything."

"You're lucky that I love your dorkiness and that I do also love you." Y/N steps closer to him smiling so wide, her cheeks started to hurt but she does not care. No pain can undermine this happiness and love that is blooming from her chest.

"So you love me? Not Steve? Well, at least not in that way?" she jokingly asks.

"Doll, I don't have the capacity to love anyone but you and only you." Bucky whispers as he gently cups her cheeks and leans his forehead against hers.

[moonyswritinq]

what i am — stephen strange x gn reader oneshot

❝ WHAT I AM ❞

SYNOPSIS ➢ Stephen had always been there for you ever since you arrived at the doorstep of Kamar-Taj a broken person, but when you keep lying and keeping things from him he's having a hard time trusting you.

PAIRING ➢ stephen strange x gender neutral reader

CONTENT WARNING ➢ friends to lovers, cursing, angst, fluff-ending ish?, canon-typical violence, graphic descriptions of violence, untrusting Stephen, angry love confession, trust issues, tension

WORD COUNT ➢ 4.0 k

AUTHORS NOTE ➢ references the reader as you, y/n and y/l/n! i was looking through my drafts and found this little piece. i wrote it several months ago and i think i intended it to be a series, but i do not remember where i was going with it, lol. so i continued writing on it and turned it into a oneshot instead! hope u enjoy &lt;3

MASTERLIST

“Strange!”

Your voice echoed through the halls of the temple of Kamar-Taj, your tone filled with annoyance. You rushed out of the room, a book clasped in your hand and a stern expression planted on your face. Your footsteps sounded against the wooden floor as you walked through the long hallway of the dormitory. Several doors were open, revealing the sorcerers inside the rooms, either resting or meditating.

As the hallway took a turn you came to a halt, right outside Doctor Stephen Strange’s room. His door stood slightly ajar, revealing his form sitting cross-legged on the floor, a book laid open in front of him, his deep red cloak levitating in the air. You pushed the door, letting your figure silently slip into the room.

On one end of the room, the wall opposite from the door, stood a bed, not bothered to have been made, and a small table next to it, adorned with a lamp and a few books. At the end of the bed stood a desk, books cluttering it and pages thrown on the surface. A small window broke the wooden wall, casting light and warmth into the room. On the wall furthest to the left stood a door, leading into a separate room that served as a bathroom.

Strange had his eyes closed and his hands in front of him, bathing in the silence and deeply focused. You took this moment to appreciate his appearance, something that was very rare, considering he was always on the move. His face expressed peacefulness, as his torso lifted and sank with each breath, stretching the deep blue robes he was wearing. Strange’s hair laid perfectly over his head, the sides displaying a faint silver, but it only made him look more handsome. His high cheekbones bathed in the light from the window, and his lips were pursed together in concentration.

A small wrinkle appeared on his forehead at your entrance. “You know it is rude to stare."

You pulled yourself from your thoughts and cleared your throat. “What is this?” you asked in a sharp tone, lifting your arm. Stephen glanced at the object in your hand, examining the black runes on the cover of your book, then closing his eyes again.

“If I am not mistaken, it is a book of sorcery,” he promptly declared. You sighed exasperatedly, throwing your arms out in annoyance.

“You would think that, wouldn’t you?” you asked defiantly, opening the book, only to reveal pages with big, painted pictures and short sentences. “The small bunny hopped out of the green bush, scaring the young girl, only to begin munching on his orange carrot,” you read.

Strange bit his lip, holding back his laughter, before answering in a serious tone. “God, y/n. One would think that a sorcerer as great as you wouldn’t sink to the reading level of a kindergartener.”

You shot him a sharp look. “Where is my book, Stephen?” Strange’s eyes widened, his expression turning innocent.

“Whatever do you mean? Isn’t that your book?”

You huffed in annoyance, throwing the book into his lap, making him jump, and walked over to the desk to search among the masses of parchments and pages. Your hands roamed through the books and flipped through the pages, all the while as your eyes jumped back and forth in the mess.

“You really should clean more often,” you said, to which Strange only rolled his eyes. “Aha!” you exclaimed, your fingers wrapping around a thick book with the same cover as the one in Strange’s lap, only that the pages were filled with intricate symbols and words. You turned to Strange with a victory grin before throwing yourself down on his bed, the book laying beside you.

Strange had always been like this; stubborn, defiant, and arrogant. Ever since you had walked through the temple’s doors, two years ago, shortly before the fall of the Ancient One, Strange and you had formed a strong relationship.

You hesitantly took your steps through the streets of Kamar-Taj, Nepal. Your black leather clothes clung to your body while a hood hid your face from prying eyes. You had been lost, and broken, looking for a new future, something that could save your.

And that was when you had bumped into Doctor Stephen Strange, sitting against the wall of the temple, peacefully reading a book in the golden light during sunset. He glanced up at the sight of you, giving you a questioning look.

“Who are you?” His deep voice asked, lowering the book in his hands.

Your gloved knuckles knocked on the wooden door, turning to the figure beside your. “Who is asking?”

Strange glanced down at his brown robes, spreading his arms exaggeratedly. “Um, me?” You rolled your eyes at the man, turning to the door and knocking a second time.

Without taking his eyes from his book, Strange opened his mouth. “They won’t answer.”

You tried to hide your annoyance and once again turned to look at the man. “And why is that?”

“You need to be invited, something I assume, you are not.” Strange turned a page, seeming completely uninterested by the person beside him.

“And how would you know?” you asked, your tone sharp.

He finally looked up to meet your gaze. “Because, I just happen to be one of the temple’s residents.” You crossed your arms, shifting your weight to one foot, cocking an eyebrow. Strange closed his book, tucking it under one arm, before standing up, towering over your frame. “I’m Doctor Stephen Strange.”

You raised an eyebrow, and reached out for his hand to shake. “y/n y/l/n.” Strange chuckled and took your hand. “Something funny?”

“Quite a peculiar name, don’t you think?”

“You’re one to talk, Strange,” you mocked, smirking at him slightly. He nodded towards the door, before unlocking it and holding it open for you. The dark hall was inviting against the hot, late afternoon sun outside the temple, letting you cool down in the shade. However nice your leather outfit looked, it wasn’t exactly practical in that particular environment.

Strange led you into a large open room, tall pillars spread out along the walls, with a table on the far right and a smaller one in the middle. A large man sat at the table at the right, sipping a beverage from a small cup while gazing on the couple over the tip of it.

Strange stopped, letting you walk into the middle, while a woman in yellow robes walked forward, pouring tea into a cup for you. Strange smirked knowingly, waiting for your next move.

You gratefully took the cup out of the woman’s hand, but didn’t turn away from her. “I believe you are the one I am looking for.”

Strange cleared his throat at your response, but remained still where he stood. The woman narrowed her eyes, taking her own sip of tea.“Depends on who you are looking for.”

“The Ancient One,” you said, putting down the cup gently on the low table beside you. The woman smiled warmly, nodding at you.

“Then you have come to the right place. Please, sit.” She nodded to the cushions on the floor, beside the table. You sat down together with the Ancient One, crossing your legs and letting your hands rest in your lap.“Why do you seek me?”

Your eyes filled with insecureness, fiddling with your fingers in your lap.“I am here because of the Mind Stone.”

The Ancient One visibly stiffened in her seat, before waving to the people in the room. “Leave us, please.”

Strange shot the woman a questioning look, but left as he was told.

You slipped out of your thoughts, throwing yourself up to a sitting position on Strange’s bed. “Why’d you even take it for?” you asked, shooting him a glance. “You know that book isn’t for you.”

Strange shrugged. “I was bored.”

“You were bored?”

“Yes, I was bored.” Strange crossed his arms, steadily meeting your gaze with his grey eyes. “Besides, I was curious as to what kind of information you were withholding from me.”

You leaned forward with your elbows on your knees, a small smirk playing on your lips. “Oh, Master Strange, please do enlighten me with your findings.”

He chuckled lightly, pushing himself off the floor and lifting your book from the bed, into his hands. He absentmindedly began to flip through the pages. “Rituals. Instructions. It’s filled with all this information on dark matter, energy merging, manipulation of all sorts.” He glanced up from the book, meeting your gaze. “Why do you have this? Why didn’t the Ancient One let me read it?”

You lowered your gaze, making sure to select your next words carefully. “It’s… complicated.”

Strange sighed, rolling his eyes irritably and threw the book down on the bed again. “Oh come on, give me a break, y/n.” You avoided his gaze, fiddling with your fingers in your lap. A nervous habit, Strange had noticed. “We’ve known each other for almost two years. We’re friends, aren’t we?”

You threw your arms out, giving him an exasperated look. “We are, Stephen. But this isn’t about us, it’s about me. About my past.”

Even though you had known each other for such a long time, you hadn’t once told him about your past. You had only mentioned briefly of how broken you were when you arrived at Kamar-Taj, or of how you were seeking a better future. But you never went into detail.

“I’m sorry, Stephen. I need to go.” You stood up, grabbing the book by your side, and walked past Strange. You took a few steps across the room before a red cloak appeared before you, blocking your path. You glanced back at Strange, receiving a guilty and dark look from him, before sighing and trying to push the cloth out of the way. It wouldn’t budge.

You took a deep breath and fished your sling-ring out of your pocket, opening a portal big enough for you to get through, leading into your own room. With one last disappointed look at Strange, one to which he avoided, you stepped through and closed it behind you.

You placed the book in your own personal bookcase, one the Ancient One had provided for you before her passing, and you made sure there were no prying eyes around. You never knew who could be watching.

With one swift movement of your arms, you flicked your hand in a dismissive motion, letting the window and doors close by themselves, shutting out all of the light. You held your hand out in front of you, before one of the floorboards began to loosen itself and revealed a small box of intricate carvings and patterns.

You moved forward, picking up the box and opening it. Inside, laid two daggers, enveloped by darkness and releasing a faint dark mist from them, a small notebook, together with a black quill, a pair of black gloves, and a small pouch.

You retrieved the gloves, putting them on your hands, and putting the box back, underneath the floorboard. The gloves fit perfectly to your hands as you stretched your fingers. They were a token from a past you weren’t yet ready to let go off.

As you made your way out of the temple halls, your feet hesitated outside of Stephen’s closed door. You couldn’t hear anything behind it, but you knew he was there. It hurt — lying to him like this. You didn’t want to do it. He was your friend. But you didn’t have a choice. You knew when you entered these walls that you could never reveal the truth about yourself. The Ancient One had known that if you did you would be seen as an abomination — something to eradicate — something dangerous.

You doubted Stephen would hurt you, but with his strong moral compass you couldn’t be completely sure. Fuck, it hurt to think like this. That Stephen really would—

No. No, he wouldn’t. You wouldn’t let yourself think like that.

The setting sun glared as you opened the doors, making your way through the streets of Kamar-Taj. There was a slight chill to the autumn afternoon, but it was a welcome interruption to the usually boiling summer days. Your feet led you through the streets, walking an all too familiar path.

After the Ancient One’s passing you and Stephen had been very busy. Trying to rebuild the other Sanctuaries and establishing new leaders turned out to be very exhausting tasks. Between all of that you hadn’t really had time for your own personal mission.

When you were younger you had been exposed to the Mind Stone by some sick experiments. It was Hydra, you knew that much, but then your memories went fuzzy. All you were left with was a weird feeling in your hands and hypersensitivity to every touch and movement. It had been a difficult adjustment at first, but now, with the help of the Ancient One, it felt like an extension of yourself.

You also knew that you hadn’t been alone in the experiments. There were other kids, too. And you didn’t want to abandon them as others had you.

You stopped short at the middle of an alleyway, your back turning to lean against the stone wall. Your breaths came out in short puffs as you waited — as the seconds came and went.

One minute. Three minutes. Eleven minutes.

He was late. Something was wrong — he was never late.

You pushed yourself off the wall and began making your way deeper down the alley with rushed steps. If something had gone wrong with him, there was a big possibility that something was going to go wrong with you as well. Your neck craned as you continued to throw uncertain glances over your shoulder every few steps.

A cry split the air, so tortured and antagonising that it would etch itself into your brain for years to come. You broke out into a run, following the sound. All your mind could scream was not him, not now, not yet. It cannot be over yet.

A rounded corner and you stood face to face with what your mind could only describe as horrible. There were four figures, all of them standing over a body on the ground. You could see a sickening dark red seeping from it but forced yourself to focus on the figures. They had heard you running and were walking towards you. The man closest to you broke out into a sprint and grabbed a club from nearby, swinging it at your head. You ducked — barely, and kicked his feet under from him. You had but a moment before the next person was on you, a knife in hand.

You swerved, pulling their hand with you. Your hand found their elbow and with a sickening crunch you felt it crack underneath your fingers. The person cried out in pain as you jabbed their nose with your fist, filling the dark evening with anguish. Your eyes found the body on the ground again, not a muscle moved.

C’mon, you thought, willing the body to move with your mind.

The punch came out of nowhere, knocking the air out of your chest. You coughed, feeling your ribs straining. The three remaining figures made their way towards you, their weapons ready at hand. You pushed your body up on your elbows, trying to clear your mind.

You felt a warm feeling in your chest, the familiar tingling flowing to your fingers. Another kick. You coughed and you felt your mind begin to fog. Fuck. You blinked. Once. Twice. Thrice. Your vision was a tinted red and you had to squint. This was not good.

You could feel the movement before you felt the impact of the punch. The problem was, there was no impact — at least not to you. In front of you were a golden shimmer, separating yourself from the other men. With a grunt you pushed yourself to your feet, your forcefield forcing them further back. With one hand you sent them to the wall, trapping them against it. You furtively cast a few glances around you before running to the body on the ground.

Your hand shot out, halting before it reached the body. Your fingers curled, hesitating. Thinking better of it, your hands grabbed the body and turned it over, revealing his face. It was beaten to a pulp almost beyond recognition. But there was no doubt it was him. Blood seeped from several open wounds. You lowered your ear to his mouth, trying to determine if he was breathing. There. The slightest rise in his chest. You closed your eyes. Thank god, he’s alive.

First, there was the movement. Then came the sound. But the impact never came. The knife that had been thrown in your direction had stopped mid-air, suspended by orange, glowing threads. Your eyes followed their path, landing on a tall man further down the alley, clad in a dark red cloak. Fuck, you knew that cloak. You sighed, stood up and reluctantly faced the man.

Strange stepped forward, letting the knife clatter to the floor. You glanced at the man that had thrown it, but he had passed out, his injury still apparent. Reluctantly, you met Strange’s gaze. It was nothing like you remembered. Warm, witty and welcoming. Now, it was cold, pinning you to your spot, penetrating your soul and making every second feel excruciating. When he finally spoke, you let yourself release a breath of air.

“What are you doing here?” he asked, gesturing towards the rest of the figures still pinned against the wall. “What is this?”

“I—” you began, but couldn’t bring yourself to utter yet another lie, more pretty words to hide from him, to dig your grave even deeper. “I can explain this.”

His hard gaze set on you. “I expect you will.” Another glance at the men, at the energy holding them steadfast. “Who even are you?”

The words felt like a punch in the gut, forcing you a step back. After all of this, you thought he wouldn’t think of you differently. See you differently. By the alienating look he gave you, you were ultimately wrong. Fuck, this was exactly what you didn’t want to happen — what you’ve been dreading all this time. Every time you considered just telling Strange the image of him looking at you with a gaze full of disgust and hatred forced itself into your brain — the exact same image that was now in front of you.

You waved a hand, dismissing the forcefield against the figures. You bent down beside the body again, glancing up at Strange. He saw the pleading look you gave him and let his cloak envelope the body and float it beside the two of you.

Your footsteps echoed into the now quiet night, not daring to breathe too deeply in fear of disturbing whatever peace now lay upon the two of you. You didn’t need to look at him to know his face was set in a deep frown, his brows furrowed, lips pressed into a thin line, eyes set. You could practically hear his brain humming with energy, but decided not to say anything.

When you reached Kamar-Taj Strange sent for a healer, letting the cloak lead the body to the healer’s room. His eyes found yours and steadied, turning around to walk further down the hall. You inhaled a breath, forcing your thoughts to calm down and body relax. You followed him, realising he was leading you towards your own room. Once inside, you shut the door and leaned against it, seeing his slumped figure against your mattress. This was it, you realised. You were prepared for a fight, an argument, a confrontation.

“What is going on, y/n?” His voice sounded desperate, more than you were prepared for. It took you by surprise. When you finally composed yourself you realised you’d been quiet for too long.

“I don’t know where to even start.”

He met your gaze, hardening once again. “How about you start with tonight? Who were those men?”

“Easy. I have no idea.”

He narrowed his eyes. “Alright, who is the dying man?”

You lowered your head. “An old friend of mine.”

Strange let out a dry laugh. “Not vague at all.”

“He’s helping me— with something.”

“What?”

You hesitated. “I— can’t say.”

Strange stood up, rolling his eyes in exasperation. “Oh, give me a break. I just saved your pitiful life and you can’t even tell me the truth?”

You glowered at him. What right did he have to say that? He didn’t know what was at stake, what had happened to you or what you had gone through. But whose fault was it really that he didn’t know those things? Mine, you reluctantly admitted.

“I’m— different than you are.”

“Oh, really? Wouldn’t have thought that from the way you looked like a fucking sun earlier.”

You threw him a pointed look, to which he lowered his head at. Always had to be so snarky.

“I have the power of the mind stone inside of me, and it makes me able to— do things I couldn’t before.” You rushed the words out of you, as if you would never get them out otherwise. Maybe you wouldn’t. His eyes narrowed, looking you up and down. “What I am is something dangerous, Stephen.” There was the calculating gaze once again, trying to determine how much of a threat you were. You rolled your eyes. “I’m not going to kill you, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

He gave you a helpless look. “Well, what the hell am I supposed to think? You’ve been keeping things from me — this huge part of yourself that you didn’t trust me with. You go around fighting people on the streets, almost killing yourself! What am I supposed to do with that? Trust you?” A humourless laugh.

You halted. He was right, what was he supposed to do? You had been giving him nothing. For every growing second you felt yourself becoming smaller, giving more way for helplessness.

“Look, I’m sorry I couldn’t trust you. I wasn’t sure how you would react, I was afraid—“

“Afraid of what? That’d I’d see you as a rabid monster that would need to be put down?” His voice had raised and he looked expectantly at you. You lowered your head. When no response all he could do was stare, his hands shaking uncontrollably by his sides. “You actually thought that? How could you believe that I would be so cruel to you?”

You stepped forward, your shame being replaced by a newfound anger. “Well, how would I know? Your moral compass is so all over the place I don’t know what you’re thinking half of the time. I have no idea what you would’ve done!”

He sighed, running a hand over his face. When he spoke, it was almost a whisper. “I never would have done that.” He met your gaze. “Not to you.”

You felt your breath hitch in your throat. Those words were all you’ve ever needed to hear — but they weren’t enough, not now. “Why would you care?” you asked.

He threw you an annoyed look. “You’re really going to have me say it?”

“Yes.”

He sighed, taking a deep breath before looking out the window, avoiding your gaze. He mumbled something and you had to strain to be able to hear it.

“What was that?” You couldn’t keep the amusement from creeping into your voice. You both knew it — felt it hanging heavy in the air. Strange hadn’t done this before, the whole “feelings ordeal”, and it made him feel incredibly vulnerable. He clenched his jaw, stepping closer to you so you were almost chest to chest. You could feel his chest rise in deep breaths. He lowered his head to beside your ear, his hot breath fanning over it. You felt shivers traveling down your spine and had to close your eyes to fight against the urge to fall into him.

“I don’t know,” he said, “what was that?” You could hear the annoying know-it-all tone creeping into his voice, and you rolled your eyes.

“You’re impossible,” you bit out.

“You love it.”

“I love you,” you whispered. He smiled and leaned even closer to you, if it was even possible.

“I love you too,” Strange whispered back.

[thewritingginger]

This is another one that I feel could be more refined but I think I feel that way about most things that I wrote up in a day lol

Excuse any mistakes plz & thank you

Fandom: My Hero Academia  Pairing: Shinso Hitoshi x Fem! Reader Word count: 2.8k+ words Warnings: 18+, Established relationship, Hero Shinso, Slight Pet play, Slight master kink, Sex toys (Collar, Butt plug), Pet names (Kitten, Sweetheart), Brat taming, Taunting, Semi public sex, Degrading, 1 Pussy slap, Vaginal fingering, Oral sex (Fem! & M! receiving), Face fucking, Unprotected sex, Praise, Creampie

Enjoy ~

“Okay, I’m ready!” You hauler from your room upstairs.

You and Shinso are heading to a Costume party a coworker of his was throwing. Your boyfriend was waiting down in the living room as you were finishing up. Turning off the tv he waits at the base of the stairs for you.

Phone in hand he looked up when he heard you coming down. He raises a pleased brow at your get up.

You are before him in a little black dress, paired with some matching heels, thigh high stockings connected to a garter and of course cat ears and a collar in his signature purple  to top it off. Shinso on the other hand was just in his hero costume, mouth slightly ajar as he drinks in your appearance with a crooked smile.

“Wow, looking good, Baby. Or should I say, Kitten.” He says pulling you in by your waist. He leans in for a kiss but you cut him off.

“We should go if we don’t want to be late.” Dragging your hand across his chest as you walk past him, throwing him a playful smirk, swaying your hips just a bit more as you head for the door.

The night has barely started and you were already playing the tease.

A few hours into the party you were at the bar getting another drink. Being a few drinks into the night a light buzz is working its way through your body. At this point you’ve mingled and danced with strangers and pro heroes you’ve met before enough, it was time to find your boyfriend.

Walking through the crowd you spot Shonso’s messy indigo locks near the corner. He is standing in a small circle of Pros, drinks in hand, laughing about who knows what. Sauntering over the group of men you slide your arm around your distracted boyfriend’s waist.

“Good Evening, Gentleman.” You greet them with a sweet smile. “I hope I’m not interrupting anything too important.”

“Not at all. We were just reminiscing about some crazy times at UA.” One of the men said.

“Well if you boys don’t mind I will be stealing away this guy for a while.” The men in the group laughed, one even gave a little whistle which made Shinso shake his head.

Walking away from the group hand in hand Shinso puts his arm around your waist.

“Are you okay?” You smile at his sweetness.

“Yes, perfectly. Just wanted to spend some time with my man tonight.” Turning you to the side he holds your hips with a toothy grin.

“I couldn’t agree more.”

Dancing together in the crowd of drunk people you spin to face your back to him. Your ass grinding on his crotch. His strong hands tighten on your hips.

“You keep rubbing against me like that Kitten you’re gonna have a problem.”

“Maybe I want one.” You smirk back to him. You feel the low vibration of his groan on your back.

You danced like that for about fifteen minutes, rubbing against him and turning around to  touch his chest and it was when you grabbed his ass that your boyfriend had enough.

“I’m taking you home.”

“What? Why? Are you not having fun?” You whine falsely, forcing back a sly smirk.

“The problem is, you’re having too much fun.”

Throwing his arm over your shoulders casually you both make your way towards the doors but are stopped by an intoxicated Kirishima.

“Wow, Shinso, Y/n, where are you two off to? The night has just begun.” You can tell by the subtle tightening of Hitoshi’s arm that he is annoyed so you do the talking.

“Sorry Eijiro, we would stay but I have work in the morning so we have to call it a night. You have fun though.” You say with a wave as you two walk past.

Holding you close he leans into your ear, to the outside world it looked like Shinso was loving on you but really he was whispering all the things he’s going to do to you when you get home. Turning the corner from the people gathered outside the door leading into the party you grab him into a single stall bathroom.

“Y/n what are we-.” You cut him off with a kiss. Your hands run down his chest, working on removing his shirt and unraveling the scarf around his neck. One of his hands curls in your hair pulling your head back.

“Now Kitten, are you really so impatient to have me punish you that you dragged me into this bathroom?”

“Maybe I am. What are you gonna do about it?”

“You’re playing a very dangerous game, Sweetheart. I’m not-” You cut him off again.

“Not what? Gonna fuck me in the bathroom where anyone could hear?” He sees what you’re trying to do and he smiles amused.

“Y/n, you do not want to do this.” He says threateningly but you persist. Taking a step closer, looking up into his violet eyes.

“Are you sure it’s not you who doesn’t want to. Is the Pro Hero Hitoshi Shinso too much of a coward to do it?”

That got to him.

You gasp as he swiftly turns you around, grabbing the sink for support as you look at him through the mirror in front of you before he pulls your hair back.

“You really don’t listen, do you, Kitten? You just have to push and push till something breaks, huh?” His threat laced words send a shiver down to your core. Whispering through gritted teeth as his other hand scratches up your thigh lifting the hem of your dress. The sharp feel of his nails lights you on fire.

Releasing your hair, sliding his hand down your back to mirror his other hand on your furthering exposed ass, he lets out a dark chuckle.

“Not even wearing panties under this slutty little dress. It’s as if you’ve planned this night out.” Looking over your shoulder you flash him a smile with a slight wiggling your hips.

“Perhaps I did. I can never resist playing with you, Master.” The title melts off your lips like sweet sugar, feeding the beast inside the man behind you.

With the skirt of your dress bunched around your waist, your ass completely exposed, Shinsou’s rough hands grab and massage the plump flesh. Spreading your cheeks he smiles because peeking between the globs of your ass is a purple gemstone - the one he had gifted you months prior. He tsks at the sight.

“What a naughtly little Kitten. Wearing the pretty plug I got you to a party.” You moan as he begins to push and move around the plug. “To think this whole time you had this shoved in your little asshole in front of everybody like a slut.”

You can feel the heat pooling in your belly. You’ve been turned on all night allowing it to slowly build to this point.

“Look at you. Already dripping for me.” You sigh as his fingers slide over your dampening folds, gathering your slick, playing with your entrance.

“Was thinking about me finding your little secret so exciting that you’ve nearly dripped down your thighs. Always making messes that I have to clean up.” His hand comes down on your ass.

Kneeling down he spreads your pussy lips to see your soaked core clearly. You gasp when you feel his hot tongue draw a line up your sex. He begins to lap up your juices that accumulated throughout the evening, moaning into your taste. The feeling of his tongue is immaculate. Your head hangs down as you cover your mouth to suppress your moans.

Standing up he pushes your feet apart with his own, pulling your head back up by your hair to look at him in the mirror.

“Kitten you brought me in here, don’t start playing coy with me.” You yelp when he punctuates his statement with a brisk slap to your wet cunt, then aggressively inserts two fingers causing your knees to buckle and a breathy moan escapes your lips.

“When I’m tasting you, I want to hear you. When I’m stretching you out, I want to hear you. And when I fuck you I better hear all of those pretty moans you try to hide from me. Is that understood, Kitten?”

His other hand is holding your head back as he growls his demands in your ear. Your mouth is wide open letting heavy breaths and high pitched mewls out. Looking over your eyes lock and your lips curve in an open mouth grin you even let out a little giggle at his reaction.

“Are we laughing now?” Letting go of your hair to pinch your smiling cheeks, forcing your gaze straight in the mirror, his cheek pressed to yours.

“Yeah.” You bravely say. When Hitoshi is like this, talking back is the last thing you should do, but you don’t care. You’re enjoying yourself too much. Watching the way his face twists, lips curling into a sinister smirk.

“Really, why?” His eyes are daring you to continue and you take him up on it.

“Because it’s funny how you’re trying to punish me.”

“If you think this is funny, what I'm about to do will be hilarious, Sweetheart. Just wait.” He chuckles. “But first-.” Releasing both of his hands he spins you around and pushes you to your knees, looking down at you.

“I’m gonna make good use of this pretty mouth since you can’t seem to keep it shut.” You look up at him as he runs the pad of his thumb across your pouty lips, smearing your lipstick at the corner.

Your knees are starting to get sore staying on the hard tiles in a bent position. With Shinso’s cock thrusting into your mouth making you gag every time he snakes down your throat it’s hard to tell how long you’ve been like this. His legs spread, knees bent and holding your head in place with both hands, one tangled in your hair and the other gripping your jaw. Your hands grab his bare thighs, nails digging in making crescent shapes into his hot skin. Everytime you try to pull away he pulls you in harder. Sheathing himself fully in your mouth, your nose buried in his purple curls, he lets out a low drawn out moan of satisfaction feeling your throat pulsate around his cock. He finally releases you when you begin to smack his thigh.

Falling to your hands, heaving, trying to catch your breath. Directing your chin up to look at him, Shinso takes in your new appearance. Mascara and liner running down your cheeks from tears shed. Face flushed from lack of oxygen and drool pooled at the corner of your smudged lipstick stained lips.

“Where did all that laughing go? I thought this was funny. Are you not having fun anymore, Kitten? Did your master wear you out?” He asks with raised eyebrows. Thumbs wiping away the tears on your cheeks.

Breathing in to speak, you choke on your breath. Shinso chuckles at your failed attempt.

“Aw, did I fuck your voice out? That’s okay, you’ve needed a lesson of silence.”

Standing up he takes your hands pulling you to your feet before placing your ass on the table. Your legs spread open, you grab onto his shoulder and the wall behind you to avoid falling into the sink. With one hand on your hip and the other holding his cock Shinso slaps his throbbing member against your clit, rubbing his tip through your wet folds, teasing your needy hole making you mewl.

“Oh did you think we were done, Kitten? As you can see I haven’t came yet and we aren’t finished till I’ve filled this pussy up and have you dripping down your thighs. Would you like that? To be stretched around my cock, having my cum coat your insides?” He asks, rubbing his tip, allowing it to enter slightly, into your cunt.

“Uh huh.” Is all you could muster. Your hand gripping the back of his neck now, combed through his messy locks. Scooting forward you wrap your legs around his waist impatiently.

“Now now, Kitten. Don’t get too excited, I’m gonna give you what you need, just be a good girl for me.” He says with a smirk as he slowly inserts himself.

You sigh at the feeling of you stretching around his girth. Once fully sheathed, pelvis to pelvis, Shinso draws you in by the back of your neck for a deep kiss and after you’ve parted he keeps your noses touching. Having a close up view of your face as he moves his hips painfully slow, allowing you to feel every ridge of his cock in detail as it slides along your spongy walls.  

Your eyes droop and your jaw slacks as his pumps are slow and deep. He is really taking his time with your body. Hands roaming over your thighs, squeezing your ass, peppering a few wet kisses down your throat. The fluid motions of his hips rock you into bliss and you crash against the metaphorical rocks with every hard thrust back in hitting your cervix.

His movements pick up the pace creating more moans from your chest. His breath is becoming ragged with every passing minute of stimulation. With both hands wrapped around the back of his neck you rest your head on the mirror behind you, eyes closed in pleasure. But you instantly shot up and covered your mouth when you heard the door nod jiggle, Shinso’s movements haven’t halted.

“Hitoshi, sto-ah” You try to whisper but you were cut off by your own gasp that you quickly tried to muffle.

“It’s okay, Kitten. Just keep those pretty lips shut and no one will know.” He whispers back into your ear. As much as you don’t want every Pro Hero at this party to find out you are fucking in the bathroom all you can think about is him inside you. His hot breath on your neck and his deep voice reverberating through you.

Wrapping your arms and legs tighter around him you bury your face in his neck. Teeth grazing his flushed skin to hide away your cries of ecstasy as his pumps become faster. The sounds of your mixed sighs and moans along with the subtle slapping his sack against your ass fills the air of the echoey bathroom.

“God, Kitten. You feel amazing, I’m gonna cum- fuck.” His own words come out muffled and stuttered in your neck but both of you are too gone to care. All that matters in this moment is your collective climaxes.

Straightening up, his head resting against yours, he looks down and watches his thumb rub circles over your sensitive bud. The added stimulation makes you dizzier. The humidity in the air between you makes it hard to breathe and the only word you’re able to form on your lips was his name. Like a montra you repeated it over and over till the wash of your orgasm silenced your throat.

Shinso groans as your core convulses around him. His thumb continues to rub you through your high. Once over you hug him close as he chases his own release. His lips connect to your neck, lightly sucking and creating small red marks that will later bloom into purple proof of his ownership of you.

“Shit, you are squeezing me so tight, Kitten. Just like that - ah.” You can tell by his sporadic thrust and his shaky words that he is close. Taking his lips with yours, your tongues swirl together as you swallow each other's moans.

“Oh my god, cum inside me. Please, Master.” You plead resting your forehead against his, looking at him through lidded eyes. Your words were enough to push him over the edge. After a few more deep pumps you feel his hot seed coating your walls. His hips slow as he milks all himself into you.

You both stay there, connected and breathless, with your heads together trying to catch your respective breaths. Finally pulling away Shinso slowly extracts himself allowing you to adjust to the emptiness. Your arms are still draped over his shoulders, your head now resting on his right one.

“You think you can stand on your own?” He asks, cupping your cheek to look into your tired eyes. You nod your head. Helping you down to the ground as you pull your black dress, that is now stained with a mixture of both yours and your boyfriend’s arousal, back down. With his hands on your hips he waits for the okey to let you go.

When he does, he wets a paper towel in the sink and starts to clean up your face. Wiping away the misplaced lipstick and mascara on your cheeks. You giggle at his concentration.

“Don’t start with me, again.” He says jokingly. Once you’re all cleaned up he takes off his jacket and wraps it around you.

“Let’s get you home before anyone realizes we never left.”

There you have it some steamy bathroom sexy times lol

Did you like it? Let me know.  Feedback is always appreciated.

💛 ~

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