#I think it would’ve been a bridge too far

[witchywithwhiskey]

bucky + “cut it out” - “what do you mean? i’m not doing anything”

getting what you want on a rainy spring afternoon

pairing: best friend!bucky barnes x female reader

warnings: 18+ content (minors dni!!!), smut, dry humping/dry sex, fingering (f receiving), consent issues (but not really? idk), dirty talk, light degradation, kissing, teasing, banter, friends to lovers

word count: 2,500ish

a/n: thank you so much for sending in this prompt!! i had far too much fun writing these two, which is why it ended up being so long 😅 (compared to my other springtime fun ficlets anyway)!! hope y'all enjoy!! ♡♡

“Stop it.” The words were barely discernible with the way they were growled, the annoyed rumbling coming from your best friend, Bucky Barnes. Your best friend who had come over on that rainy spring afternoon to hang out and had promptly fallen asleep instead.

Though you would’ve expected yourself to be a little sleepy, given the long week you’d had, you found yourself feeling more restless than anything else. No matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t seem to settle down and cuddle up against Bucky’s arm like you’d done so many times before. 

So you were left to your own devices with your best friend, who’d fallen asleep sitting up, his arms crossed over his chest and his head tilted back against your couch. He looked completely at ease on your couch while you were bored. You wanted Bucky’s attention and, for some reason you couldn’t fathom, you’d decided the best way to get it was to annoy him until he woke up. 

You’d been trailing your fingers over his bare arms and face, tickling him until his expression twisted and he grumbled in his sleep. It was immature, but you were having too much fun to stop, suppressing your giggles every time he made an unhappy sound.

Finally, you got some actual words out of him and you had to cover your mouth to stifle your laughter. Bucky sounded so cute when he was tired and grumpy. Maybe it should’ve made you stop, but instead you waited for him to fall back asleep, his soft snores joining the gentle rhythm of the rain and the hum of the movie still playing on your TV. 

Reaching up, you trailed your fingertips ever so lightly down the bridge of Bucky’s nose, skipping them off the edge before they fell to his mouth. You were surprised by how soft Bucky’s lips felt beneath your fingers, so different to the scruffy roughness of his cheeks and jaw, which seemed to be permanently covered in stubble.

Bucky’s lips parted as you were tracing them, and you yanked your hand away, turning to face the TV so you could pretend you’d only been watching the movie if he woke up. But you watched Bucky out of the corner of your eye, and he seemed to be sleeping still. Then his tongue darted out to wet his lips and your face heated inexplicably. 

Suddenly, your thoughts were filled with ideas about what it would feel like to have Bucky’s mouth pressed to yours, his stubble dragging against your skin. You couldn’t stop yourself from picturing your best friend kissing along your jaw and down your neck—his lips exploring even more intimate parts of your body…

Squirming in your seat and trying to ignore the heat curling through your belly, you turned fully to Bucky, watching him closely to make sure he was asleep. When you were certain hew as, you reached out, tracing his lips again with your fingertips, feeling their softness and the dampness left behind by his tongue. 

Your body warmed, and you pressed your thighs together against a pulsing ache building in your core. You didn’t want to think about your body’s reaction to touching your best friend, but you also didn’t want to stop or pull your hand away. You wanted to stay in the moment as long as possible.

So enraptured by the sight of Bucky’s mouth, you didn’t notice when his lips parted further, his raspy grumble surprising you so much you had to bite back a gasp.

“Cut it out.”

“What do you mean? I’m not doing anything.” Your reply was quick, as you pulled your hand away and leaned against his side like you were simply cuddling into him. It was normal for you to cuddle with your best friend, though you weren’t normally thinking about kissing him, or about doing other things with him, when you did.  

Unfortunately—or fortunately—your new position of leaning against his arm put your face close to Bucky’s. His mouth was right there, looking oh so enticing, and an impulsive thought popped into your mind. What if you just…brushed your lips against his? Not even fully against his mouth, just the edge of it. Could it really count as a kiss if you just brushed your lips to the corner of his mouth? 

You decided it didn’t. 

Leaning forward, your eyes fluttered closed as your lips ghosted over the stubble next to Bucky’s mouth, then connected with the softness of his lips. Your breath caught in your throat. It felt so good—his warm breath caressing your cheek and his velvety lips against the edge of yours. You could even taste the coffee he had that morning, the flavor rich and mixing with something that was entirely Bucky.

It occurred to you far too late that you were dangerously close to kissing your best friend, and you shouldn’t be doing anything of the sort—especially while he was sleeping on your couch. You knew you should pull away and go back to watching the movie, pretend nothing ever happened. But what you really wanted was to press closer, to sink into Bucky’s chest and slip your tongue past his lips. 

Instead, you just hung suspended in the moment, too wrapped up in your thoughts about kissing your best friend to notice the way his breathing shifted, his body tensing like a predator’s would right before it pounced. 

Then, all at once, Bucky moved, flipping you down onto your back on the soft couch cushions and covered your body with his own, his narrow waist fitting perfectly between your thighs. His hard bulge pressed to your core, making you gasp as pleasure surged through your body, your legs wrapping around him instinctively to keep him close.

“Not doing anything, huh, doll?” Bucky rasped in a teasing voice, a wide grin on his face. “Certainly not kissing your best friend while he’s asleep, right?” Bucky’s blue eyes sparkled in the dim daylight of your living room. You squirmed guiltily beneath him, but that only succeeded in grinding your heated core against his dick, making it twitch in his sweatpants.

“Bucky,” you whined, gripping his t-shirt in your fists and shaking them, neither pushing him away nor pulling him closer. Now that he was awake, you were painfully aware that your friendship was hanging by a precarious thread, but the heat flooding your body urged you to throw all caution to the wind. Still, you knew you needed to apologize for what you’d done, and you whispered, “I’m sorry,” in a small, pitiful voice.

But Bucky only grinned, ducking down and pressing a smacking kiss to your cheek. “Don’t apologize, doll,” he said in a warm, happy tone. “I’ve been awake since you started touching my face,” he pressed a kiss to your other cheek, trailing his lips down and blowing a raspberry against your jaw, which made you shriek with laughter. 

You tried to squirm away from his teasing mouth, but Bucky grabbed your hands, pulling them from his shirt and pinning them above your head. His face hovered above yours, his eyes taking you in like he was seeing you for the first time.

“I was wondering how far you’d go,” he said, his voice low, almost a whisper. Then, a sly smirk curved his lips and his eyes darkened, your body lighting up at the expression. “Didn’t think you’d kiss me though.” His eyes dropped to your mouth and his voice went a little distant as he murmured, “Didn’t think our first kiss would be when you thought I was asleep.”

Your lips parted and it was on the tip of your tongue to apologize when his words sank in. Had Bucky just implied that he’d thought your first kiss together was inevitable? And did his words mean he’d thought about kissing you before? How long had he been thinking about kissing you?

You didn’t have time to fully form a question in response to Bucky’s words because your best friend slanted his lips to yours, capturing them in a kiss. Immediately, the entire world fell away and your mind went blissfully blank—your guilt and trepidation melting into simple pleasure as you reveled in your first proper kiss with Bucky. 

Kissing your best friend felt like coming home and sinking into the safety and comfort and bliss of knowing where you belonged. The way your lips slid against Bucky’s, you knew you belonged with him—in his arms—always. It was overwhelming and delicious at the same time, and you never wanted to stop.  

“Taste so good, doll,” he rumbled, pulling away for only a second before he was diving back into your mouth, his tongue slipping between your lips and twining with yours. 

You moaned into him, your hips working against the bulge in his sweatpants as you writhed beneath him. Bucky groaned, trailing his hands down your arms to your sides, freeing your hands to dive into his soft brown hair. You yanked on it lightly while his hands groped your breasts in your shirt, then smoothed down your waist to grip your hips and grind himself into you.

“Bucky!” you cried, wrenching your lips from his as you clung to your best friend and writhed with him. You could feel his hard cock perfectly through the soft cotton of his sweatpants and the thin fabric of your lounge shorts. He was grinding against your clit, his lips kissing and sucking on your neck and all you felt was bliss. “Don’t stop, Bucky, please don’t stop,” you begged in a breathy voice. 

Bucky chuckled into the crook of your neck, suckling on your pulse point and groaning when you humped harder against him. “As if I could ever deprive you, doll,” he murmured, his voice warm and sweet and filling your mind with all the dirty things you could beg Bucky to do to you.

Dragging his face back to yours, you made out with Bucky, your kisses turning messy as you both got closer to the edge of your releases. Your bodies writhed together on your couch, your legs hitching around the backs of Bucky’s thighs to keep your clothed core grinding against his thick bulge. 

“Oh god, Bucky, I’m gonna—” Your words cut off on a sharp cry as Bucky rolled his hips, fucking you into couch like he was pounding into your cunt. The friction against your needy clit was perfect, and you felt the pleasure in your body surge, coiling tighter and tighter. 

“Come on, doll,” Bucky growled, his teeth nipping at your bottom lip. “Come all over your best friend’s bulge like the needy little thing you are.” He rocked his hips into yours, grinding his cock against your clit through your clothes, hitting the aching nub in just the way you needed.

The pleasure in your core snapped suddenly, and you let out a shrill cry as you came, your body going tight and taut as you clung to your best friend. Your legs held him close, your hands fisted in his hair while you moaned in his ear, your body shuddering beneath his bigger form while you rode out your release by grinding languorously against his bulge.

Then you heard Bucky groan into your neck, his hips stuttering in their rhythm as he kept humping against you. You felt a warmth between your thighs and shivered, knowing what it was and it only turning you on more that you’d made Bucky come without either of you taking off your clothes. 

A smile curled your mouth as you humped against your best friend’s twitching cock while as he came in his pants. He was groaning into your neck and you were clinging to him, feeling every trembling shudder that wracked his broad body.

“Fuck, fuck,” he muttered, riding out his pleasure by rubbing against your soaked core and milking every drop of come from his cock. “Fuck,” he groaned, drawing out the word and finally settling to lay on top of you as he collapsed. You lay entwined together for a long moment, simply enjoying each other. 

Then, Bucky pushed up on his hands and glanced down your bodies, where he’d made a mess of both his sweatpants and your shorts.

You couldn’t help but giggle, only laughing harder when Bucky shot you an accusatory look. “This is entirely your fault, y’know?” he grumbled, beginning to move off you carefully so he didn’t make an even bigger mess. “If you hadn’t felt so good coming under me…” 

You’d been about to make some flippant comment about how it’d feel much better if was inside you, but then Bucky shoved his sweatpants down and stepped out of them, walking bare-assed over to the laundry in the hallway. He turned to you expectantly, but your eyes were too busy taking in the sight of your best friend’s cock, still half-hard and swinging between his thick thighs. 

“Are you going to help me clean up, or are you gonna make me strip you out of those filthy clothes?” Bucky asked gruffly, playfulness in his tone. 

That snapped you out of your thoughts and you pushed yourself up off the couch, sauntering over to Bucky, enjoying the way his eyes drifted down to watch the sway of your hips. Once you were standing right in front of him, you tugged your shirt off over your head and pulled your shorts off, leaving you naked in front of your best friend.

Bucky’s jaw went slack, his eyes darkening as they took you in. “Christ, doll,” he muttered distractedly, his gaze taking in every inch of your bare skin with a greedy glint in his eyes. “You’re constantly surprising me.” 

“Well someone’s gotta keep you on your toes,” you teased, pushing up onto your tiptoes and pressing a kiss to Bucky’s lips before you darted around him and ran into the bathroom. You shut the door behind you and turned on the hot water, intent on taking a shower to clean up.

Before you could step beneath the warming spray, Bucky’s arms wrapped around your waist and he hauled you against his body. His thickening cock wedged between your ass cheeks and his breath ghosting over your cheek as he murmured into your ear.

“You’re gonna pay for that,” Bucky rumbled, his hand slipping between your thighs, two fingers dipping into your soaking wet slit. “You’re mine now—and I’m going to have so much fun making my girlfriend come all over my cock.” He pressed a kiss to your cheek, thrusting his fingers into your needy cunt, making your knees shake as you struggled to stay upright. 

All you could do was whimper and moan, clinging to Bucky’s arms and melting back against his chest. A smile played on your lips, though, as you realized you’d gotten exactly what you wanted—your best friend’s attention. And you knew you were going to enjoy every minute of that rainy spring afternoon with your boyfriend because Bucky, and his attention, was finally all yours.

[say-al0e]

Cling

Rating: M | This is smut! Minors, DNI! No one under 18!

Summary: For as long as you could remember, you and Steve have been close. What others see as clingy, Steve sees as comforting, right? Or, you fell in love with your best friend and suddenly, everything is too much. Warnings: Unprotected PinV, oral (f!receiving), blink and you'll miss it angst. Pairing: Steve x fem!Reader Words: 5.5k

Though the sun had long disappeared, dipped below the horizon in a blaze of oranges and reds hours ago, the scent of artificial coconut and chlorine lingered as you lounged beside the Harrington pool.

The kids disappeared with Eddie the moment the sky tinted pink, off to finish a campaign they spent much of the day discussing, and Robin followed soon after with a weak excuse designed to hide her true destination of Vicky’s house - despite the fact that you all knew.

That left you and Steve, always the last two standing.

Steve stretched out on a lounge chair to your left - sunglasses resting atop his head, t-shirt forgotten somewhere in the backyard, garishly patterned swim trunks resting low on his hips. His eyes were closed, chest rising and falling evenly, though you knew he was far from sleep.

Regardless, you took the chance to study him in the rare moment of silence.

The apples of his cheeks and the bridge of his nose were tinted pink, not burned enough to cause concern but clearly effected by his time in the sun. His hair was wild and beginning to curl, free of gel and still a little damp from his last dip in the pool. The weeks of swimming, back in the pool where he spent so much time growing up, had toned his arms - his shoulders, his stomach, his thighs - and you could see the result of his resumed habits so clearly.

A swath of hair covered his chest, tapered into a faint line that disappeared into the band of his trunks, and you were struck by just how many times you’d been here - sitting to his right, smelling of chlorine and coconut. Over a decade of friendship, more than half your life, and you’d witnessed Steve go from a lanky boy to a confident twenty-something. 

Moments like this reminded you of why your best friend was one of the most sought-after bachelors in Hawkins and why, somewhere along the line, you joined the long list of those desperate for him to give you the time of day.

Only, you were lucky enough to be one of the few that had Steve’s full attention. There was little question that he knew everything - nearly everything, not this, never this - there was to know about you. Even less of a question that you would be sharing his bed later on, though not in the way you’d secretly started to want.

“Quit starin’ at me, creep.” Steve’s voice came then, before you could begin to spiral and question whether you could handle another night of sleeping beside him - wrapped in his embrace, his sheets, his scent - and you hummed.

“Just seeing if I need to get the aloe,” you teased, hoping it sounded as light as you meant it. “Should’ve listened to me, when I told you to put on sunscreen.”

Steve laughed. “You mean I should’ve sat still while you attacked me with it. I would’ve, if you’d given me some warning. Not nice to just start mauling a guy.”

“I know you dream about me mauling you.” The deflection was easy, reflexive, and accompanied by a laugh that rang a touch hollow in your own ears but Steve huffed, good-natured, anyway.

“Hm. Think that’s the other way around.” He cracked open an eye, then, and turned his head to glance at you while you reached for his half-empty beer in an effort to avoid meeting his eyes.

“Please,” you scoffed, though it was weaker than you intended. “I can’t get you to stop touching me.”

Despite his upbringing - or, really, because of it - Steve sought physical affection in those closest to him. It was true that he hadn’t stopped touching you over the course of your friendship, hugs and holding hands and cuddling on the couch. There was never any hesitation, never any awkward shuffling or adjusting. It was as natural as breathing, comfortable, and lately, you savored every brush of his skin against yours.

Still, Steve waved a dismissive hand and reached for the pack of cigarettes he discarded on the table after the kids left. “Sure.” He lit one, fixed you with a teasing grin as he took a drag. “Easy for you to say when you’re the clingiest person I know.”

The observation was not unkind. If anything, it was soft - fond. It was a joke he’d made before, once or twice, but the label ‘clingy’ struck a nerve that he likely had no idea even existed. One that hadn’t existed until recently.

There was a conversation that you weren’t supposed to hear. It was Eddie, asking the kids if he had a chance - whether you and Steve were, you know, a thing - and their varying responses. He only asked because of how close you were, he explained, how often Steve had an arm around you or you clasped his hand in yours.

Someone, you didn’t catch who because the words rang harsh in your ears, dismissed his concerns with the dreaded refusal, “Just friends.” Though another followed it with, “I’d be annoyed if I were Steve. She’s always all over him and they’re not even dating. So clingy.”

Eddie laughed, as did the others, and you waited just beyond the door for a few moments to pretend that you hadn’t heard.

After, you tried to distance yourself, if only a little, without arousing Steve’s suspicions. Despite being called clueless, unobservant or even stupid, despite his difficulty connecting the dots, there was little about you that escaped his notice. It was difficult to create space when none had existed since you were children and, clearly, you hadn’t done a very good job, anyway.

“Yeah, well, I’ll unstick myself from your side.” You intended the quip to be teasing, a joke that earned you a laugh or a soft swat as you passed him by, but it came out wrong. The words were acidic, tasted bitter in the back of your throat as they rolled off your tongue, and you could see him wince from the sting of them as you stood from your chair. “I’m gonna go shower,” you deflected, unable to look at him. “Chlorine’s burning my eyes.”

Steve sat upright as you gathered your towel and discarded clothes, your empty soda can and the tube of tropical sunscreen. He stubbed out his cigarette and reached out, hand searching for yours and coming up empty for the first time in a long time.

“Wait,” he urged, rising to his feet as you busied yourself with removing any trace of your presence from the immediate vicinity. “Did I… what did I say? Whatever it was, I didn’t -“ His brows furrowed as he lifted the hand you avoided and carded it through his hair, sighing when you winced at the sound of his sunglasses clattering to the ground.

“You didn’t - it’s nothing.” Steve tipped his head, an attempt to catch your eye as you blinked back the stinging sensation - chlorine, really, and overwhelmed, traitorous tears. “Just tired.”

From the corner of your eye, you caught sight of his face. He wore a concerned frown, warm eyes raking over your form as he recounted the last few moments, before he winced. “Oh. Shit. Hey, you know I’m joking,” he insisted, taking a half-step closer. And when you took a full step back, he frozen, uncertain - unused to the distance. “I didn’t mean it like that. You know I love it when you’re close to me. It’s nice. I’m not - that was a shitty thing to say.”

“It’s okay.” You waved him off, a dismissive hand held aloft for a moment before dropping to hold your towel close to your chest, and hoped he believed the crack in your voice was from the yelling you’d done earlier in the day. “It’s true, ’s’what everyone thinks, anyway.”

“What?” He looked confused, frown deepening as he tried again. He took a cautious step to close some of the distance and lifted a hand to reach out for you before thinking better of it. His hand fell to his side and you clutched the material in your arms tight to your chest to keep from reaching out yourself. “No one thinks that.”

“They do,” you confessed, finally lifting your head to meet his gaze as you forced a laugh. “They think it’s weird and sad and annoying that I’m, like, all over you. They think I’m, like, obsessed or something.” The admission was uttered casually, as easily as you could manage when your heart felt as if it might beat out of your chest, and Steve took another tentative step forward.

“Who said that?”

Though it was phrased as a question, it came out a demand. His expression shifted, flickered from soft concern to annoyance - not at you, very rarely at you - as he waited.

“I overheard the kids joking about it,” you told him with a sigh. “And back when you were dating Nancy, Tommy and Carol said something. So did Billy. It didn’t bother me then ‘cause Tommy and Carol and Billy were morons, but now, well… Maybe they were right. I - I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be so… attached.”

Steve stepped closer then, insistent despite your feeble attempt to keep the distance, and reached out for you. One warm, large hand fell to your waist, fingers finding bare skin still warm from the sun while the other cupped your cheek. He was patient, soft, as he encouraged you to meet his eyes once more.

“They were total morons. I’m honestly surprised they paid enough attention to someone else to notice,” he huffed, rolling his eyes at the memory of your former friends. “And the kids, they’re just kids. They don’t - don’t listen to them, alright. I don’t think you’re clingy or annoying or sad or anything else. I think you’re my best friend and I like being close to you.”

Though it brought you comfort to hear how adamantly he denied thinking you were clingy - how adamantly he denied finding your constant presence annoying - the reminder that he only saw you as a friend did little to ease the roiling in the pit of your stomach. 

A fresh wave of traitorous tears stung at the backs of your eyes and you did your best to blink them away as you nodded. “Yeah,” you nodded, acknowledging him with a watery half-smile. “Okay.”

“Hey, I’m serious,” he asserted, dipping his head to search your face for the answer to a question he had yet to ask. “I want you close to me, like, all the time. Robin laughs at me but I don’t really know what to do when you’re not there. I like it when you hold my hand or sit on my lap. It… it makes me feel like you want me with you as much as I want to be with you.”

Though the lump in your throat persisted, though the tears still threatened to fall, you immediately reassured him. “Of course I want you to be with me. I love spending time with you.” You sighed, allowing yourself to melt into Steve’s touch. “It’s always been us.”

“Always has been, always will be,” he confirmed, smile soft but still a touch concerned. He hesitated for a moment, seeming to weigh his words for the first time in a long time, before he settled on asking, “What’s up, babe? Why’d it bother you so much?”

“It’s stupid.”

Immediately, Steve shook his head. He refused to allow you to wave it off, to dismiss the tease that clearly hurt your feelings, as his thumb stroked your cheek. “It’s not, not if it’s bothering you.”

“I just…” You inhaled sharply, eyes closing as you attempted to gather your thoughts. Though Steve’s closeness would’ve brought you comfort under ordinary circumstances, it made it difficult for you to concentrate as your heart began to beat a touch too fast. “Just been thinking,” you finally began, choosing your words carefully. “It was fine when we were kids but, I mean, we’re adults now. What happens when one of your dates pays off and you find someone to fall in love with? Don’t think she’ll be too happy with, you know, this. It’s not like we can cuddle on the couch or have sleepovers for the rest of our lives.”

Steve remained quiet for a long moment - a silence that stretched on forever, thick and suffocating - and you swallowed the emotion clumping in the back of your throat before opening your eyes. You were met with his warm gaze, soft brown eyes flickering with an emotion you couldn’t quite read as he took a half-step closer.

“What if… I mean, we could.” Two words, and you felt frozen in uncertainty. Everything around you, everything outside of Steve, ceased to exist. You could feel your heart thudding heavily in your chest, your breath caught in your throat as you waited for him to elaborate. “The dates,” he began, now looking as nervous as you felt, “none of them have felt right. They don’t feel like this, like us. They don’t make me feel like you do.”

For months, you’d dreamt that Steve felt the same way. You imagined that somewhere, beneath the fond smiles and teasing jabs lingered the same nerves, the same butterflies, the same all-encompassing love. You imagined that his head was full of the same ‘what-if’s’ as you shared his bed, the same hope that you’d share the same bed for the rest of your life. You dreamt that he would one day confess his love and end your hopeless attempt at getting over him.

But now that it seemed within your grasp, so close you could practically feel his heart beating just as erratically as your own, it felt too good to be true.

“What does that mean?”

The question came as a whisper, afraid that if you spoke too loud you might break whatever spell had been cast over the backyard, but Steve heard it clearly. He met it with a half-smile as the hand on your hip began to trace nonsensical patterns across your skin - a nervous habit that made you feel as if your skin was on fire.

“Means that I want to keep holding your hand and having sleepovers,” he elaborated, voice soft in the still of the night. “Means that I… I don’t want to keep going on dates with anyone but you. Every time I think about the future, it changes - what I’m doing, where I live. But you’re always there and that’s all I want. I’ve been trying to pretend like I’m not in love with you but I don’t want to pretend anymore.”

Steve’s confession rang in your ears, crashed over you like a tidal wave, and left you unable to speak - unable to breathe. He waited, patient, understanding, as your racing thoughts scrambled in search of something coherent. But when you failed to gather anything resembling a complete sentence, you decided to allow your actions to speak for you.

In the way that you’d started to imagine as you drifted off to sleep, you dropped the items in your arms and lifted your hands to tangle in his hair to pull him in close. He smelled of summer - cigarettes, cheap beer, artificial coconut and chlorine - and something so unerringly Steve that you suddenly couldn’t imagine being this close to anyone else.

The hand on your cheek was encouraging, soft and warm as he tipped your chin, and you gave in to the urge you’d been fighting. With one step, you pressed yourself close - your chest meeting his, the warmth of his bare skin setting your nerve endings alight - and pressed your mouth to his.

Despite your expectations, there were no fireworks, no sparks or heavenly choirs, but there was an instant sense of comfort. Kissing Steve felt like coming home, warm and easy, as if you’d done it a thousand times before. 

There was no awkward shuffling, no tentative brushes of uncertain lips. Instead, you moved together seamlessly. His body slotted against yours perfectly, fit exactly as if you belonged there - together, intertwined. His lips were soft, as plush as you’d imagined, and his skin was so warm that you wondered if you would be branded with his touch before the night was over.

Though your fantasies varied - desperate kisses, eager to make up for lost time; filthy ones, a mess of lips and tongues and teeth, as you swapped spit and stumbled down a dark hallway toward his bedroom; soft kisses, designed to convey years of unspoken feelings - this kiss destroyed them all.

It was soft, slow and eager as you sought to become acquainted with the taste of one another, and laced with the underlying promise of a beautiful future.

Steve’s touch was eager, unrestrained and achingly familiar, as he held you close and swallowed the soft noises you made. Every breathless gasp and quiet sigh of pleasure, was met with a hum of his own as he slipped the hand on your cheek to the back of your neck.

Neither of you wanted the kiss to end, content to breathe in one another until your lungs collapsed, but the lack of oxygen and the reality of the situation had you feeling dizzy enough to break away. But as close as you’d always been, Steve kept you pressed tight to his body and rested his forehead against yours.

“Taking that to mean you’re in love with me, too,” he teased, breathless as he searched your face for any sign of regret, of hesitance. When he found none, he smiled - bright, happy, easy. “Totally not cool of me to admit, but I’ve wanted to do that forever.”

“You’ve never been cool, Stevie,” you returned, giggling as he pinched your side.

“Was gonna be nice,” he huffed, pretending to be put out though his grin never faltered as he shifted his head, brushed his nose against yours. “Tell you how pretty I think you are, how I want to spend the rest of my life with you; all that mushy stuff. But since you wanna be mean…”

Before you could blink, giggle out a teasing apology for your perceived slight, Steve’s arms fell to your waist. He held you close, lifted easily, and carried you the few steps to the edge of the pool. The moment you realized his intentions, the moment you opened your mouth to squeal out a plea for him to stop, Steve stepped over the edge and plunged you both into the water.

Even as you fell, sinking into the deep end, Steve kept you close. He hauled you both back up above the water, laughing as you huffed - thankfully used to this, almost expecting it as he attempted it every year.

“Steve!”

“What?” He grinned, dark hair dripping into his eyes as he guided you both into a more manageable depth and encouraged you to wrap your legs around his waist. “All this could’ve been avoided if you’d just been nice to me,” he reasoned.

“I’m always nice to you, Stevie.” You weren’t - your friendship was an equal mixture of soft encouragement, soft words and even softer touches, and teasing jabs - but Steve hummed, just the same. “But I can be even nicer.”

“Know what would be really nice?” When you hummed, Steve returned a hand to cup your cheek - tipping your head to meet your eyes, only a hint of insecurity swirling amongst the warm, soft brown. “Telling me I’m not getting all this wrong. I… I know I don’t always get it,” he acknowledged, swallowing thickly, “but I… I get this, right?”

“Oh, Steve. The reason I got so freaked out about the clingy thing,” you began, lifting your hands to brush the damp hair from his forehead, “was because I was afraid you’d see it, how in love I am. I… I’ve been in love with you for a while. You’re it for me, Harrington.”

Steve grinned, then, relieved - elated, clearly brimming with joy at the revelation - and leaned forward to close the gap. The press of his mouth to yours was eager, firm, and relieved some of the ache in your chest, the fear that this was something you’d dreamt up, too good to be true. He crowded you against the wall, body caging you in as his tongue traced the seam of your lips, and you sighed as you tangled your fingers in his hair.

Though the pool water was cool, the press of Steve’s body against yours had you melting. He always ran warm, left you blistering in the wake of his hands exploring your skin, and you felt your heart hammering in your chest as his fingers mapped the slivers of skin he’d only held through fabric.

“Babe,” he breathed, mouth barely parted from yours as you shifted your hips, “don’t wanna do this in the pool. Not the first time. Let me take you inside.”

The urgency in his tone drew a soft moan from you, eager to feel his touch and touch him in return. “Please. Waited so long, don’t wanna wait anymore.”

Desperation, eager and hurried, that had lingered beneath the surface of the entire encounter - a desire to give in, finally, after waiting for so long - showed clearly as you both rushed out of the pool. Steve remained close to you, one hand on your hip even as you both roughly toweled off, and ushered you into the house.

The Harrington house was as familiar to you as your own. It was a space you could navigate with your eyes closed, under the worst circumstances, and you were grateful for the knowledge as you and Steve rushed up the stairs to his bedroom without pause.

As many times as you’d stepped foot in Steve’s room, as many nights as you’d spent wrapped in his sheets, there was an understandable difference in this moment. The tension was palpable and, despite how eager you both were, you both faltered for a moment as the door clicked shut behind you.

“This… we don’t have to do anything,” he began, stepping close, his palm warm against your waist. “We can just shower, maybe watch a movie or something before bed.”

Again, rather than fumbling for a coherent sentence - attempting to make sense of the thoughts that remained scrambled in your brain - you reached out for him. Steve sighed as your fingers tangled in his hair and tugged, eyes blazing with a heat that made your head spin, and you almost hated to lose the sight of his parted lips and lust blown eyes as your mouth pressed to his.

Steve’s hands began to wander, fingers mapping your skin in a desperate bid to commit it all to memory, as he walked you backwards. The plush of his bed hit the back of your knees, duvet soft, and he followed you down easily. With a knee pressed into the mattress beside your hip, a hand beside your head, Steve hovered above you, mouth never leaving yours.

While his fingers traced the skin of your stomach, your hips, your shoulders, your thighs, you brought your own to his chest. You raked your nails over his exposed skin, committing the warmth of him to memory, as he broke the kiss to lavish your neck with attention.

As he nosed at your jaw, lips pressing fleeting kisses to your skin, his hand fell to your breast, eagerly cupping the soft flesh over the damp material of your swimsuit.

“So fuckin’ pretty,” he breathed, reverence lacing his tone as his hand flexed. “So warm, so soft. Smell nice.”

“It’s the sunscreen,” you gasped, words pitching higher as his lips latched onto the spot just beneath your ear. “You should try it.”

“Mm. You can put some on me tomorrow,” he offered, tongue darting out to soothe spot he’d nipped.

The promise was laced with an eager desire that had your hands wandering, nails raking over the trail of hair dipping into the band of his trunks, and you could feel the contraction of his stomach as he inhaled sharply. You knew that you tasted of chlorine and chemicals, of summer, but Steve didn’t seem to mind as he continued pressing open-mouthed kisses to your skin.

Eagerly, he began to dip lower, his lips exploring your heated skin and leaving a trail of fire in his wake. Every touch was electric, sent a shockwave through your system and left your chest aching with a warmth that you hoped would never cool. You could feel the arousal pooling in the pit of your stomach, gathering slick between your thighs, as Steve nipped at the skin of your chest.

Skilled hands made quick work of the fabric covering your chest, easily ridding you of the damp suit without lifting his head from your skin, and you felt your breath catch in your throat as Steve began to make his way down. He nipped at the delicate skin of your chest, stubble scraping your skin in the most delicious way as he shifted to free his hands.

As Steve’s hands shifted, cupped your breasts and hummed, your own hand dipped beneath the band of his trunks. Your fingers brushed the warm skin, reveling in the stuttering breath Steve released, even as his own hands began to trail downward.

“Always pretty,” he complimented, voice rough as he began to follow the path blazed by his hands, pressing kisses down your chest and stomach.  “But this,” he hummed, grinning when you whined as he moved out of reach, “too fuckin’ pretty. Not fair.”

“You’re one to talk.” It was breathless, a gasp that escaped as his lips latched onto a patch of skin near your hip, and Steve grinned. “You’re so beautiful, Stevie. ’S’distracting.”

Steve continued to sink lower, mouth blazing a devastating path across your skin, as his hands fell to the plush of your thighs. He spread them easily, settled between them, and glanced up at you from near the foot of his bed with a devilish smirk that reminded you of the days of King Steve - handsome, flirty, charming.

“How’ve we never done this before?” His hands drifted closer to your aching cunt, so close to where you desperately wanted him yet so far away as his mouth pressed to your inner thigh. “Wanna spend the rest of my life here.”

“Haven’t even got my bathing suit off,” you teased, though it was weak - wrecked, already so entirely destroyed for him. But Steve took it as a challenge.

Almost immediately, Steve’s hands slipped beneath the band of your bottoms and tugged, easily working the damp fabric down your thighs. The moment they were gone, tossed across the room to be found later, he settled back between them and grinned.

Before you could tease, make a joke about him being eager, Steve’s hands shifted exactly where you wanted them. Warm fingers swiped at your slick folds, gathered the evidence of your arousal easily, before they lifted to his waiting mouth. Your lungs constricted and breathing felt impossible as you watched him lap at the slick, an exaggerated moan leaving his lips as he pulled them free with a wink.

“Knew you’d taste amazing,” he complimented, dipping his head to nip at your inner thigh.

Steve nosed at the juncture of your thigh as his fingers returned to your folds and you could feel his triumphant grin when you gasped as his thumb found your clit. But he didn’t allow you time to speak as he dipped his head and licked a stripe along your slit.

Large hands found your thighs, fingers digging into the plush skin to keep you spread open as he lapped at you. There was no tentative tasting, no hesitant swipe of his tongue; Steve ate you like a man starved.

Those plush lips wrapped around your clit, eagerly tasting all you had to give, as his fingers returned to your puffy folds. He swiped them through your slick, gathered it on his fingers, before pressing them into you and working to open you up. 

“You’re,” a gasp interrupted you, stole your breathe as Steve glanced up at you from between your thighs - his shoulders keeping you spread open, hair caught between your fingers. “Fuck, Stevie, you’re good at that.”

Steve preened under the praise, lashes fluttering at that and the combination of your fingers yanking at his hair, as his fingers - longer, thicker than yours; easily pressing into the spaces you could never quite reach - sank deeper into you. 

As desperate as you were to feel him, to have him push you over the edge, this wasn’t the way you wanted to go. You wanted to feel him, to feel his weight pressing you into the mattress as his lips met yours, and you told him as much as you tugged at his hair.

“Wanna feel you, Stevie, please,” you begged, stomach tight and chest aching as you desperately sought to catch your breath. 

“Fuck.” Steve’s forehead pressed to your thigh, warm breath fanning over your sticky skin. “Wanted to hear you say that forever,” he admitted, eagerly clambering up to shove his trunks down his hips.

As Steve shoved his swim trunks down, you tipped your head - eager to see if the rumors were true. And just as you’d heard, Steve was larger than you ever could’ve imagined. He was bigger than anyone you’d been with, bigger than anything you’d seen, and you couldn’t help yourself as you reached out to touch him.

The tip was an angry red, dripping precum, and Steve swore as your thumb brushed at the pearly bead. “Fuck, you’re so big,” you whined, wondering how he would fit - eagerly anticipating the stretch of him.

“Can’t say shit like that,” he huffed, laughing - pink cheeks blazing, embarrassed and secretly pleased at the attention - as he settled above you. “Ego’s already too big,” he teased.

“Not the only thing,” you returned, grinning when he laughed, fingers dipping between your thighs. “Fuck me, Stevie, please.”

“Anything you want,” he promised, hand wrapping around the base of his cock and guiding it to your puffy folds. He dragged the head through the slick, both of you moaning at the contact, before he notched the head at your entrance and pressed forward.

The stretch of him was delicious, too much and not enough all at once, and you swore you could feel him in the back of your throat as he sank into you. He went slow, careful, eager not to hurt you, but with every inch he sank forward, you were desperate to feel him fully.

Finally, after what felt like forever, Steve was pressed fully into you. It was overwhelming, being so impossibly close to him - completely intertwined, bodies as one - and all you could do was pull him into a searing kiss.

The kiss was a mess, a clash of tongue and teeth, uncoordinated but so satisfying as his hand gripped your hip. You could feel him surrounding you, all-encompassing, and you never wanted the moment to end.

Even as his hips began to snap, his rhythm steady, deep, you struggled to catch your breath - to care about anything other than the warmth of his skin against yours, the scent of him, the weight of him over you. The only thing you could say was his name, repeated like a prayer as his thumb found your clit and his lips remained just inches from your own.

Steve was all that existed, all that had ever existed, and suddenly the future was bright. There was hope, an eager desire to spend the rest of your life here - in this moment, with Steve pressed close - and you couldn’t help but whimper out a desperate, “I love you,” as you felt yourself barreling toward the edge.

The words were returned in a reverent chant, equally desperate, as you felt his hips begin to stutter. You were both nearly there, just a few presses of his hips - another swipe of his thumb, another press of his mouth to your heated skin - and you were careening over the edge with Steve following shortly after.

Warmth flooded your veins, his spend filling you so completely, and his lips sought yours despite your shared inability to regain your breath. It didn’t matter, not when all that existed was this moment, and you didn’t care that Steve’s weight had fallen to press you deeper into the mattress.

For a few long moments, you both lay there - gasping, fighting to catch your breath and return to the moment at hand - before Steve pulled away just enough to settle at your side. There was no distance left between you, slick skin pressed together, and you would’ve been content to lie there forever.

Steve, it seemed, felt the same as he settled into the pillow and leaned in to press a kiss to your forehead.

Though the afternoon began with a fear that Steve would see you as clingy, that he would never love you in the way you loved him, you were ending the night in the only place you wanted to be; clinging to your boyfriend, sated and happy and looking forward to the future for the first time in a long time.

______________________________________________________

Author's Note: This was inspired by a sunscreen, believe it or not. Don't know how we got here but it was a fun journey.

Taglist: @x-avantgarde-x, @thisisparadisemylove, @eddiesprincess, @slvdsjjk, @munsonlover, @tasmbestspdrman, @urofficial-cyberslut, @jxngwhore, @hopelesslylosttheway, @meaganjm, @lazuli-leenabride, @deiondraaa, @piscesmesss, @glowyskiess, @kiszkathecook, @missryerye, @solarrexplosion, @ofherscarlettwitchways, @lovedandleft-haunted, @trappedinlimbo15, @sweetiekitten, @bookfrog242, @gwendolynmary, @sage-bun, @zealouslibrariesparadiselight, @castiels-lilass, @tojis-little-brat, @emmah787, @theworldsendxx, @asuperconfusedgirl, @flores-and-sunshine, @passi0np1t, @laurathefahrradsattel, @hellf1reclub, @slut4yourmom, @niko-04, @hannirose-loves-you, @mrs-eddie-munson, @screambabe, @vllowe, @ryswritingrecord, @cheriebondy, @ryswritingrecord, @thewitchofthewilds140, @bootlegmothman420, @maruushkka, @honeymoonpython, @keenesbeans, @jess-bonn, @sammysinger04, @khaoticken21, @denkis-slut, @spiderman-berries, @lotus-es, @amortiff, @stardust-galaxies, @ure-a-sunflower, @1-800-ch3rry, @ladybeewritethings, @ynbutbetter, @hunnybunimdun, @breathinfive, @s-u-t, @s4ntacarlal0stk1d, @rae-iin, @pennamesgame, @stefans-wife, @voldieshorts, @frankie-mercury, @bbymochi1, @serendiipty, @saturnsworld01, @eddiemunson1sstuff​, @valthevalkyrie-main​, @crying-caro​, @inglourious-imagines​

[ladyelissarose]

———————— ☠️

“Sergeant, you’ve been sitting there for the past 30 mins. Do you seriously think you have that much time to waste?”

Your Lieutenant Simon Riley’s voice was dead yet firm in its tone, being evident that he wasn’t very pleased at the moment.

Placing yourself in his shoes, you’d be upset too, there was a mission coming up and much preparation was still needed, from ‘everyone’ in the team.

Trying to swallow the heavy rock in your throat, you tried to put down the pain of your humiliation from earlier, and replied lowly,

“No sir, but I’m waiting for someone-“

“For 30 minutes? Don’t you think that after 5-10 minutes of waiting it’d be very clear that they’re not coming back for you.”

‘Oh.. but why would they do that? Their supposed to help me-‘

“Sergeant? I asked a question-“

“Yes sir, you’re right. I apologize for wasting time and being delusional.”

With a confident tone you had replied, which was the total opposite of what you were feeling. And though you apologized, you stayed glued to that damned seat, clenching your thighs and the gut wrecking pain that seared from your stomach to your legs- who would’ve thought that period pains would make you feel like you’ve been shot and stabbed?

You bit your lip nervously at the scolding that was to come in a few seconds as you hadn’t moved, and neither had your Lieutenant Ghost, meaning he was waiting for you to move your ass up from the metal chair.

And the longer the seconds passed, you grew more sick and worried, for Ghost wasn’t the most nicest to the newest ones in the team, he was actually very strict and took no excuses from anyone- including you.

Although you haven’t been on that side of him, but you’ve seen it and wouldn’t dare cross that bridge. So far you’ve been one of the best alongside Johnny Soap MacTavish, listening attentively and being the best shot on the job. But now you’re letting a natural cause hold you back, and in shame you couldn’t move or budge.

Not after you were mocked and belittled for it- and it wasn’t even your fault, but of course they all made you feel like it was.

A low gruff was heard above you, and Ghost’s large boots shifted on the ground before he practically barked,

“Well then move Sergeant!? What’d ya eat this morning that was to heavy for you to even get up eh?!”

And to put the cherry on top, when you’re in this abdominal pain, along with your daily sores from the job and stresses, you’re gonna get emotional and teary.

Especially when you knew it could’ve been solved a while ago when you had asked a teammate to help you out, but they had left you out to dry obviously, telling you to stay in that seat while they ran to your barracks to get new pants.

So now you kept your gaze on the ground, refusing to move a bit, not knowing how to explain or hold it all in, until you felt a strong grip on your arm as he lifted you up and spoke in a harsh tone,

“I’ll move you then-“

In panic you grabbed the collar of his vest and held onto the hand that grabbed you as you pleaded with desperate eyes,

“Lieutenant Riley please! Just- please.”

Your bottom lip now quivered a bit, and your eyes frantically searched his, hoping to find mercy in them so he could let you go, but he didn’t. He only locked his cold brown eyes on you, as he tried to read the situation.

That was Simon’s best tactic, he could read people like a book when he wanted to and wasn’t in a bad mood. And once he gave himself the chance to do so, he could clearly tell you were devastated and anguished, as your brows furrowed tightly and your eyes were growing glassy.

In regret at his actions, as he saw your state, Ghost immediately let you go and remembered Soap’s words,

‘Be more understanding of everyone’s situations, you may not always know why they are a certain way.’

He took a deep breath and pat your arm from where he had grasped you, not ignoring the fact how you flinched a bit and a fat tear was wiped away from your cheek by your shoulder. Simon was quick to mumble feeling guilty,

“I’m sorry Sergeant. Didn’t mean to be so harsh-“

“I bled through my pants pretty badly Lieutenant.”

“What?!”

He was ready to check you thinking it was probably an injury, but you instantly grabbed his jaw so he wouldn’t look, and quickly explained,

“It’s not an injury.”

You could see the way his eyes spoke confusion, as he questioned,

“Then what is it Sargeant?”

Your grip on his jaw loosened as you grew shy, realizing how close he was to you, and you grew more conscious of your state. As calmly as you could, you did your best to say the least but enough to understand.

“Please don’t let me say it... I’ve been humiliated enough.”

The gears in his poor head twisted and turned, as he tried to read in between in the lines of your words. He repeated your words in his head, and saw your state-

‘Oh.. OH.’

Ghost sucked in a deep breath and replied his thoughts,

“Oh. Sergeant- ok.. here.”

He quickly shrugged off his jacket, and like a carrying mother, he tied the sleeves around your waist, making sure it covered you were needed. He tapped your waist when he finished and ordered,

“Walk in front of me, let’s take you to your room.”

In a quiet voice you tried to reason, hoping he’d let you go on your own, as you were still a bit embarrassed.

“It’s a long walk Lieutenant- literally across the whole base-“

“Then we’ll go to my office, I have an extra pair of cargo’s.. they adjust to any size-“

He then held your cheek with his gloved palm as he assured you,

“I’m not letting you go on your own, I’ll help you.”

Nodding dumbly because of his sweet gesture, you agreed. And well, that settled it for you, he wasn’t letting you go on your own, so off you went.

Like a guardian angel his broad built covered your smaller form fully, and with a reassuring hand on your shoulder he guided you away to his office.

You felt small in front of his full build, but never insignificant as he treated you like a person, maybe he started off the wrong foot at times, but that’s who Simon Riley was.. he wasn’t used to being all nice and kind. But when he’d find out his mistake he’s pluck it out and make it right ten times more.

In the comfort of his little room, clearly showing he lived there as it smelled like his musky and citrus scent, and the decorations were to a bare minimum (it was actually just the little lamp and a few large bullet casings laid around in different places, like they were posing.

Oh and all the little gum wrapper things you made for him were all resting on his tiny window seal- anyways.. you were safe in his room.

He left you to change in peace after he made you stand in the pants for five more minutes- until you spilled the names of the soldiers that had humiliated you. You really didn’t want to cause them problems, especially with the Lieutenant himself who was stern and harsh.. but he made you understand that it was well deserved anyways.

Now you’re buckling up your fresh pants when you heard the door open and Ghost walk in, his head lowered as he began,

“You good Sergeant?”

Nodding to yourself you replied to him verbally,

“Yes Lieutenant.. thanks. They fit well.”

He took that as your signal of, ‘I’m decent you can look’ so he did, seeing his pants on you. Maybe they did look pretty big on you, but they fit, and were stainless.

Satisfaction with a hint of care in his eyes, he nodded with a soft grunt,

“Alright kid.. Oh and take these… they help with the.. the cramps?”

Smiling a bit at his shy voice coming out and at his attentiveness to what your body was going through, you replied,

“Yes.. the cramps.. thank you.”

“Hmm hmm.. now, be at the shooting range. I’ll be there in 5.”

Worry then crashed, wanting to hit you as you thought about the chance of seeing those soldiers again, but Ghost once again reassured you,

“Don’t worry Sergeant… I got your back. Go on to the range.”

Releasing a breath of relief you sent him a small smile then went, happy and confident to know you had your Lieutenant’s protection. Simon watched you walk away and he felt warmth in his chest, as he was able to provide help and be good to and for you.

Ghost hardly ever practiced shots or trained with you, afraid he’d hurt you or be too stern. But now he was afraid to leave you on your own, and be hurt by someone else. So he figured, you’d be safe and learn well from him, while he’d learn to keep his temper and tolerance in check, as he’d have you in sight.. a win is a win.

[thehistoriccemetery]

Heya 👋 I enjoy reading your headcanons, and I love your prompts… could you write the ladies for #5 Tav fainting from a hidden injury?

Tav Faints Due to Hidden Injury

Hey! I always enjoy reading yours as well! Feel free to use any of those prompts as I’d love to see your take on them.

I probably won’t do anything more injury prompts for a while; there’s only so many ways I can hurt poor Tav.

Here’s prompt #5 for Shadowheart, Lae’zel, Karlach, and Minthara.

On the way into Baldur’s Gate, while all of your companions watch the lands free themselves of the shadow curse, you manage to walk carelessly into a broken cart handle. You’re no healer, but you know Shadowheart is going to have a thing or two to say if you ask her to patch it up. You decide it doesn’t look that bad, and patch it up yourself. It’s an exciting day, finally arriving in the city. Why bring down the mood with a fresh gash in the side?

Shadowheart

The two of you are taking a short walk to familiarize yourselves with the new camp at Wrym’s Lookout.

You had been trying to keep your cool, but as you climbed up ladders and dodged rumble, you felt the ache in your side start to grow.

You stop and lean against a beam for support, clutching your side and breathing heavily.

“Are you alright, love?” Shadowheart asks tenderly, approaching you slowly before you quickly collapse on the ground.

She rushes over, trying and failing to catch you. She rolls you over on your back, lifting your shirt.

She sees the makeshift bandages you’ve wrapped yourself in and carefully slices away at them with her dagger.

She flinches, seeing the deep gash in your skin. Luckily, you just happen to be in love with one of the best clerics around. A cure wounds spell patches you right up.

You wake up almost immediately to a very unhappy looking Shadowheart.

“Care to explain the massive laceration I just found under your shirt?” She quips. “Or, are we just withholding such information with one another these days.”

“You’re one to talk about withholding information,” you attempt to joke.

She does not laugh. “So I suppose you’ve just forgotten how you acquired such a wound?”

You sighed. “It was on the bridge on the way over. I-I impaled myself with a piece of wood.”

She hits the back of your head with the back of her hand. “Ow!” You shout.

“It would’ve taken me two seconds to heal that wound up fresh. Now you’ve probably got a variety of different diseases swimming around from how poorly you packed it.”

She reaches out a hand to help you to your feet. “Let’s go,” she says. “I’m going to teach you how to properly wrap a wound.”

Lae’zel

You and Lae’zel walk alongside the city walls, just outside the city. Looking for clear signs of damage from the Netherbrain.

She comments a few times on how you are moving slower than usual. “We cannot afford to be so sluggish in the days to come,” she tells you.

It isn’t until you fade paler than Vlaakith herself that she notices something is seriously wrong. You fall to the ground before she can think to catch you.

She notices blood beginning to speckle your undershirt. “Tsk’va!” She curses, cutting away the fabric entirely.

You’re too far from camp and losing too much blood for her to get you back in time. She’s going to have to deal with this herself.

But she couldn’t tell you the first thing about closing a wound.

Hair. She remembers a ghustil sewing her up with a strand of her own hair. She plucks a hair from your head and gets to work.

You wake up halfway through the delicate operation, half crying from the pain of the repeated rough stabbing of your already tender wound.

“Silence!” She shouts, lazer focused on the task at hand. It doesn’t take a psionic tadpole connection to tell that she is angry.

When she’s finally finished, the wound looks… unpleasant to put it mildly. But it should be enough to get you back to camp.

“I didn’t think I needed to explain to you the stupidity of hiding grave afflictions,” she spits.

You open your mouth to apologize, but she cuts you off. “I will not hear apologies, only promises that it will not happen again.”

Karlach

Growing up on the outskirts of Baldur’s Gate, Karlach is all too excited to revisit some of her favorite places with you.

Her excitement makes for an easy distraction. She is so focused on her surroundings she doesn’t notice the way you grind your teeth together in pain.

“Hey Soldier, check this out,” she shouts excitedly, walking back towards you with some cool plants she found.

You try to smile, but whiteness clouds your vision as you fall to the ground. She drops the plant and runs to hold you up.

“Soldier? You know you’re not supposed to go and pass out on me. I don’t know how to…”

Panic starts to rise in her chest and she lays you gently on the ground. “Alright Karlach, you got this,” she assures herself.

She lifts the base of your shirt, starting to panic again when she sees the blood soaked bandages.

She gingerly removes them revealing the nasty gash underneath. “Oh boy, you really did a number on yourself,” she says.

She looks around, trying to find absolutely anything that could close the wound. She didn’t know any spells, nor did she know anything about sutures.

She sighed. She had an idea, but she didn’t like it. “Okay soldier, I’m just gonna need you to stay asleep for a little while longer. Can you do that for me?”

Dammon had fixed up her engine so she didn’t burn so hot anymore, but she was pretty sure she could just get hot enough….

She pinched the wound together, then, with clenched teeth, she placed her other hand on top of it. She channeled all of her anger until she smelt the burning of flesh.

You jolted awake with a scream and she pulled away. The wound was now replaced with a cauterized burn.

“It worked! You’re okay!” She exclaimed, rather impressed with herself. “You are never allowed to do that to me again.”

You groan, sitting up. Your head is still spinning from pain and blood loss. You sway ever so slightly.

“Woah, slow down there soldier,” Karlach says, gently pushing you back to lie down. “Again does include right now, you know. Come on. Let’s get you back to camp.”

Minthara

You and Minthara take a stroll around the outer city, allowing her to take in a surface city for the first time.

Not far into your walk though, you begin to feel lightheaded. “Minthara I think I need to sit-“ you are cut off abruptly by your own collapse.

You fall limp onto the cobblestone on the city streets.

She is quickly down beside, cooling your face with her cool hands. It’s only then she notices the bloody bandages under your shirt.

Confused, she cuts away with them away, revealing your injury.

Her face immediately pales. The wound is mild, nothing she is incapable of handling with a simple laying of hand. But you kept this from her.

She patches the wound with a gentle touch. But her mind continues to race. Why would you not tell her? Do you not trust her? Should she trust you?

You stir awake with a whine. The pain in your side is dulled, and you’re able to sit up with relative ease.

Minthara stares harshly back at you, silently awaiting an explanation. When you don’t offer one she asks, “why have you kept this from me?” She tries to hide her hurt behind anger.

“I’m sorry,” you apologize. “It’s just- I knew you were excited to see the city- and it was a stupid injury anyway I just- I didn’t want to be a bother.“

She looks dissatisfied with your answer. “We do not keep such grave secrets from one another. My trust is a fragile thing.”

You sigh, defeated. “I know. I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.”

[solarmorrigan]

So this started out as some scribbly thoughts on FTM Steve and devolved a little bit into smutty Steddie rambling. As happens. So anyway, explicit text below the cut, click through at your own discretion, et cetera

Warnings(?) for some clumsy language and hints of period-typical transphobia; some discussion of Steve and Nancy together, but only for Steddie purposes. This is mostly just silly

-

“So, wait, you slept with how many girls in high school, and still managed to keep this a secret?” Eddie asks, brows climbing his forehead.

“Not as many as rumor would’ve had you think.” Steve shrugs. “Like maybe four? The rest, I just… didn’t discourage when they exaggerated. Helped my image.”

Eddie can’t help but snort. He’s glad Steve outgrew that image. “Still, four is a lot to keep a lid on. All of them agreed not to tell and then just – didn’t?”

“Actually, most of them never found out. It was only–” Steve pauses, eyeing Eddie cautiously, as if talking about his past female sexual conquests with his current boyfriend is fine, but what he’s going to say next will be a bridge too far. “It was only Nancy who ever knew.”

Ah.

Ah, yes. Nancy. Nancy Wheeler. Steve’s one true love.

Until now, Eddie fiercely reminds himself. He eyes the t-shirt that is very much his that Steve is very much wearing and slides over the jealousy to address his more pressing question.

“Okay, how did you have sex with at least three other people without them finding out you don’t have a–” Eddie stops short, fumbles for a moment, “a, uh, conventional dick?”

Steve snickers. “Nice save. And, uh – I never actually took off my pants. My talents are in other areas, and I always provided enough of a distraction that they didn’t seem to notice when I just… took care of myself.” He wiggles his eyebrows at Eddie, who can’t help but give him the laugh he’s looking for. “It didn’t say flattering things about my stamina, but multiple orgasms are a pretty good bribe. I got good reviews.”

“Huh.” Somehow, Eddie can’t help but feel impressed; he doesn’t quite understand why Steve had felt the need to do it at all��still doesn’t really understand Steve’s drive for popularity when he’d been in high school—but he can admit the skill in the subterfuge. “But you told Wheeler?”

He’s not sure why he’s asking. A part of him, he thinks, wants to make sure Steve had been able to tell her on his own terms, rather than having his hand forced.

Steve shifts, shrugs. He doesn’t look sad, but he’s maybe a little melancholy.

“Nance wasn’t… temporary, for me. She wasn’t a fling, and I didn’t want to hide from her. And it’s the same with you.” Steve’s gaze falls heavy on Eddie. “You are the… third? person I’ve ever told. I want you to know just– all of me.”

Eddie reaches out, grabbing for Steve’s hand; he’s pretty sure he’d be physically incapable of stopping himself from somehow touching Steve after an admission like that.

A thought is beginning to form, however, leading back to what had started this conversation in the first place. Eddie would bet anything that if Wheeler was the first person Steve told, then Buckley was the second.

And that meant only one person Steve had slept with had ever known all of him – but just how much of all of him had Wheeler been interested in?

“How’d she take it? Wheeler, I mean,” Eddie asks, as casually as possible while his thumb is still stroking Steve’s knuckles.

“Uh… pretty good, actually. She was kinda surprised, and she wanted a little bit of time to come around to the idea, but I think she was mostly just bothered that she didn’t figure it out before I told her.” Steve smiles, distantly fond. “But after that, she was cool. We didn’t talk about it much, but I knew that I could talk to her if I wanted to. I’d never had that before. It was… nice.”

It does sound nice. It had probably been the first time anyone had ever been close to accepting every part of who Steve is, and Eddie feels almost bad about turning the memory to sex.

Almost, but not quite.

“So… she was cool with…” Eddie’s eyes flash down below the belt, obvious and significant, “getting involved?”

A sly grin spreads over Steve’s face as he catches Eddie’s eyes. “Are you trying to ask what Nancy and I did in bed?”

Eddie throws his hands up in defense, forgetting for a moment that he’s holding one of Steve’s hands and pulling it up with him. “I’m just trying to figure out what I’m working with here,” he insists, smiling a little too hard to be innocent. “Now, you insinuated you have talents in the oral and digital departments—which I am very interested in, by the way—but what I want to know is what’s been done for you.”

Steve eyes Eddie like he’s considering whether or not to answer, but the way he’s licking his lips says he’s already decided, even if he doesn’t quite realize that himself.

“She… definitely didn’t mind being involved,” he says finally; there’s a slight stain of pink gathering at the tops of his cheeks that Eddie sort of wants to bite. “She would finger me. Sometimes she’d go down on me, but I think we both enjoyed it more the other way around. I think she liked seeing me get myself off while I did it, and I– definitely liked that, too.”

Eddie makes the mistake of imagining it: Steve on his knees, fingers buried in his cunt, wet and dripping, his hips jerking down onto his own hand, maybe kneeling between Eddie’s legs while he does it, maybe looking up through his lashes while he sucks Eddie’s cock.

A little noise escapes Eddie.

“How about… toys?” he manages after a moment. He’s leaning closer now, raptly watching the way the flush on Steve’s face darkens. “You ever try those?”

“I have a… a couple,” Steve says, voice gone low and rough, his eyes fastened now to Eddie’s mouth. “We didn’t use them together, though, they’re just mine.”

Oh, they’re going to revisit that. They are absolutely going to revisit that, but right now Eddie is on a mission. He won’t let himself be distracted.

He slides closer, practically on top of Steve now, one hand on his hip and the other spread warmly over his ribs.

“Never thought about a strap?” he asks.

Steve shrugs, not nearly as nonchalant as he’s pretending. “Thought about it, never quite got there.”

“Which way were you thinking? Would you have worn it? Or…” Eddie is going out on a limb here; just because Steve has a pussy doesn’t mean he likes the idea of penetration, but Eddie has a hunch. “Or would it have been the other way around?”

A sharp breath escapes Steve’s chest. “Do you want that?” he asks, soft, almost hopeful.

Eddie strokes a thumb across his ribs. “Want what?”

“To fuck me.”

This time it’s Eddie who goes breathless. “Is that even a fucking question?” he demands, and then, in case he wasn’t clear, adds, “I would want very much to do that, yeah. If you want me to.”

“I wasn’t sure if you would,” Steve says. “I mean, I know you’re strictly into guys, and I don’t exactly have… a conventional dick.”

“You’re not gonna let that one go, are you?” Eddie asks, eyeing Steve’s smirk.

“We’ll see,” Steve says, which likely means no.

“Fine. But Steve,” Eddie reaches up, cupping Steve’s face in his hands, “I am one hundred fucking percent into you. You are a guy. You are an incredibly hot guy whose pants I have been wanting to get into forever, no matter what you’ve got in there.”

Steve smiles, and Eddie caresses the corners of it with his thumbs.

“Well, you do seem to prefer the weirder shit, anyway,” Steve murmurs.

“Not weird. Different,” Eddie says, and Steve makes a face at him but readily allows him the kiss he presses in for after that.

“So have you…” Steve starts, once they’ve broken apart, “ever been with a guy with my, uh– sort of equipment?”

Eddie would make fun of how awkwardly the words had tumbled out if he hadn’t suddenly been feeling a bit awkward himself.

“Not, uh, exactly.” Steve raises an eyebrow at him and Eddie amends snappishly, “okay, fine, not at all, no.”

“But you’re open to it?” Steve checks, as if the way Eddie has pressed against him like a needy cat has left any room for doubt.

“More than open,” Eddie says. “I might just, y’know– need some direction? To start with?”

“Directions, huh?” Steve smirks. “I can work with that.”

Eddie has no doubt that he can – and that Eddie will enjoy every second of it.

[jiarkives]

can I please request some cassian (acotar) x reader fluff? maybe he's been away on a long mission and he's finally home with his mate and he can't keep his hands off of her because he missed her so much ... (it can get smutty if you want) thank you!! xx

clingy

⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 .𖥔˚ summary — your mate gets even clingier after being apart from you.

⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 .𖥔˚ character — cassian (a court of thorns and roses)

⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 .𖥔˚ content — fluff ; written with fem!reader in mind

⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 .𖥔˚ notes — thank you for the request! i hope i did your idea justice hehehe also the ending is kinda wack jdhdhdhdhd my hand was on autopilot basically

~

Mor, Amren, and Nesta all looked annoyed, Feyre and Elain looked... uncomfortable, at most, while you could only smile awkwardly as you sipped your tea soundly, smacking your lips for effect as you put the cup down. “Lovely weather today, am I right?”

“Oh, cut it out!” Nesta grumbled, crossing her arms on her chest as she glared at you. Well, not at you, but rather at the male beside you.

“Aren’t we going to address the elephant in the room?” Mor spoke up as her eyes fell on your mate whose arms were wrapped around your waist and his face burrowed into the crook of your neck, his eyes closed. One would think he was asleep, but if they would looked closer, they would’ve seen the shit eating grin plastered on his face.

(The sisters were definitely rubbing off of the inner circle, especially with their figures of speech which were definitely confusing at first for the immortals.)

“Is that what you’re calling me now? An elephant?” Cassian picked his head up briefly from your neck to address the females in the garden with you. “I bet I could beat those creatures in a split second. Am I right?” He turned to the sisters with a cocky smirk, his eyebrows wiggling.

All of them ignored him, only looking at you with exasperated expressions. Feyre sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose, Amren shook her head, Elain tried to look busy, while Nesta and Mor were practically fuming.

“You do understand the concept of a girls’ day, don’t you?” Mor addressed you, her eyebrows pinched together.

“Yes, of course–”

“Then tell this big, dumb pile of muscle to let go off you and fuck off.” Nesta glared at Cassian who grumbled and tightened his hold on you.

“I’m sorry, I really am.” You sighed. “He had just come back from Windhaven with Az earlier at dawn and hadn’t let me out of sight since, but we’ve already had this day set even before their mission and I didn’t want to cancel last minute...” Your words slowed at the last part as you smiled sheepishly. “But maybe I should’ve just cancelled...?”

“I’m sure he wouldn’t be a bother,” Feyre, ever the mediator, immediately stepped in before Mor and Nesta could blow up even more. “So let’s just continue as planned, but with Cassian here, who I’m sure will behave.” She looked over to Cassian, her gaze stern and receiving a mock salute in return from the male. “See? No need for rescheduling.”

Cassian turned to Nesta, sticking his tongue out at her like a toddler, but immediately stopped and hid his face back in your neck when Feyre uttered his name in warning, causing Nesta to smirk at him smugly.

You could only sigh heavily as your mate’s arms wrapped impossibly tighter around you.

Cauldron, this was going to be a long day.

~

It was, in fact, a long day for the lot of you.

Cassian, despite Feyre’s words of warning, decided to be the most annoying little shit (affectionate for you, derogatory for the rest) during your time together.

He was a busybody, of course he was more invested in the gossip than all of you were. But not only was he gossiping harder than a teenage girl, he was acting like a lovesick teenage boy too.

He wouldn’t keep his hands off of you, even going as far as teasing you with his hands trailing where they shouldn’t. You weren’t able to focus properly on your girls, having to swat at his hand every time.

Then, the girls’ love lives were brought up. Mor was talking about the female she recently met in the city when Cassian interrupted her, “A female? What’s her name? Where does she live? Do I know her? Does Rhys know about her—”

“Mother above, Cassian!” Mor groaned out. “You’re impossibly annoying, leave me alone. Gods.”

You had quickly apologized to the girls with a promise of making up to them another time as you stood, pulling your mate up with you and winnowing into the house Rhysand had gifted you two in your mating ceremony.

As soon as you were standing in the comfort of your own home, Cassian’s smug, cocky smirk softened into one you were used to seeing on him when you were alone.

“Finally.” He groaned in relief, his hands finding their way to your hips to pull you flush to his chest. “I’ve been waiting all godsdamned day, sweetheart.”

Then, his smirk returned as he lifted you in his arms.

“Now, let me show you how much I’ve missed you.” He pushed your bedroom door open. “Properly this time.”

[sheriffgrimes-archerdixon]

The hat

Summary: reader goes missing and only leaves one sign of life: the sheriff’s hat Carl had given to her.

Tw: angst, gore, walkers (both characters are 18!!)

Rick grimes’ sheriff’s hat had been passed down many times. And Carl took it upon himself to give it to you, as a sign of protection of some kind. Carl when he was little always stated that when his dad would wear the hat then he would be protected from all the violence in the world, and in some ways he was correct… but all of that hope and belief turned into some sort of horror as soon as Carl stumbled upon the sheriff’s hat left discarded on the floor.

“Y/n!!” Carl yelled as he ran around desperately searching for you, running upstairs of the home and downstairs, the gated community of Alexandria was safe.. always.. but you’d never leave without telling him. The hat was held in his hand before he eventually put it down on top of his head as he sprinted back downstairs palm skimming lightly against the banister before he stumbled outside seeing Rick talking to michonne. “Dad!!” Carl practically screamed, making the former sheriff’s head snap in his direction seeing the sheer fright on his sons face “woah… what’s wrong?” His hand came to rest against carls shoulder to try and calm him down “y/n’s missing!”

“Missing?” Rick spoke confused, Carl nodding breathing heavily “I found the hat discarded… I looked all around but I can’t find her. I asked Eugene and Rosita but they said they didn’t see her go out.” Rick’s face twisted with concern, his hand coming up to rub against his forehead, pinching against the bridge of his nose “she doesn’t just leave she would’ve told me!” Carl spoke with wide worried eyes, Rick nodding, hand quickly tentatively grabbing onto the boys shoulder “I know. I know… it’s unlike her. I’ll get a few people to go out and look for her. She couldn’t of gone far.” And as Carl’s lips parted Rick only shook his head already knowing what he was going to say. “No. You stay here… I know how much you love that girl. I don’t want you getting hurt by jumping into action..” he spoke simply, Carl disliked that, but knew damn well his dad was right. And so he would just have to sit and wait around for good news.

—

Hours had passed by and although multiple search groups had been sent out, they had returned empty handed and now it was dark. The sheriffs hat was still planted firmly upon Carl’s head. He couldn’t sit still. He couldn’t calm down either. You and Carl were best friends, you had been best friends for a long long time even before the apocalypse and now with you missing he was beyond terrified for you.

Carl had dinner with his dad and michonne, not being able to eat much- too nervous. “Do you think she’s dead?” He questioned, Rick giving him an almost warning look to not give up before silently shaking his head. No one else spoke a word, as often times if you speak of something you fear then it will happen. Even as dinner was finished and everyone went to bed, Carl remained wide awake, now sat upon his bed packing a bag. He wasn’t going to give up. He was going to find you. As he zipped up his bag he threw it over his shoulder, opening the bedroom window and carefully climbing out, carefully so, until he felt his feet hit the floor before he immediately but quickly fled towards the gates that were left unattended, he silently slipped out of the gate shutting it behind himself before he began the long hike to try and find you.

-

Carl walked for ages and now it was pitch black, he continued searching around for you, but it was practically impossible to find you. He was growing worried and more sure about the fact that you had been killed until he heard an abrupt scream- his head snapping in the direction of the sound before he began sprinting wasting no time to come to this persons rescue hoping it was you. He saw and heard walkers all around but he didn’t stop, until he blindly slammed into something or rather someone. He feared it was a Walker but as he pulled back and saw your familiar face, dirty and mucky his eyes widened “y/n!” He exclaimed his eyes remaining wide, watching as your eyes teared up “Jesus Christ where were you?!” His hands came to caress against your face the groaning of incoming walkers getting closer and closer but Carl was in too much shock.

“I wanted to impress Daryl. By hunting a deer… he has been teaching me all these techniques and tricks to follow the markings on the ground but.. I— I guess I’m not ready.” Carls brows furrowed, but he knew how you always critiqued yourself way too often and constantly wanted to impress “fuck y/n.” He murmured shaking his head before he stood up grabbing onto your hands and pulling you up, instantly noticing the limp you had but he didn’t question it, instead wrapping your arm around his shoulder as he began helping lead you away from the herd of walkers. Your breathing was heavy as you gripped onto him “I- I just wanted to try and be an adult.” You spoke to him quietly “well you’re not. And if you keep pulling dangerous shit like this you’ll get yourself killed!” His words were harsher than they intended to be, and he immediately felt guilty for the way he spoke to you, murmuring an apology to you as he helped guide you somewhere safe.

-

Eventually the two of you found an old abandoned house, in the middle of no where. He helped you sit down before he sat down keeping his eyes on you worried and upset before he shook his head “you could’ve been killed.” He murmured and you nodded slightly embarrassed before looking down. He exhaled softly before he pulled the hat from his head and slowly popped it back onto your head leaning in to press a kiss to your cheek “next time you do that… wear your hat.” He spoke with a small smile, hand caressing against your cheek.

“Okay… deal..” you said with a small smile, you knew Rick and michonne were going to kill you and murder Carl for being this stupid. “You missed by the way.” You spoke with a playful grin and Carl raised his brows before you puckered your lips making Carl laugh “god you’re unbelievable sometimes.” He muttered before nonetheless leaning in and kissing you on the lips gently. “My dads gonna kill me.” He murmured against your lips and you smiled “oh no.” You spoke sarcastically a playful offended look appearing on carls face before he rolled his eyes “unbelievable.” He chuckled shaking his head.

(Part two on reuniting Rick and michonne+ their reaction?? Maybe? Lmk!!)

This took me forever to get out. Im sorry!!!

[dadsbongos]

PLEASE MORE AIRHEAD W GOJO SHOKO GETOU 🙏🙏PLEASE

5.1 K words

warnings - i borderline refused to proofread this, suguru wears a skirt and it awakens something in you, also suguru's anti-non sorcerers agenda, dumb timeline doesn't make sense (get over it), filler arc fic

summary - crack that i decided to take seriously, you and the gang go on a beach mission! and some things don't turn out as expected...

“Woah, ‘Toru, check out this yellow!” you jab a finger into the cold, hard plexiglass caging the many frozen flavors from onlooking civilians, “It’s, like, traffic sign yellow!”

“Who would eat that?” he grumbles, glaring at the engraving below the tub - advertising that specific hideous color as a special new taste, “For 4,000 yen?”

“Get me coffee, kay?” Shoko shoots you a glance from over her phone, thumb dancing across her cramped keypad, “And keep it down, you’ll piss off the vendor.”

“Yeah,” Suguru slips up beside you, nose wrinkled and chin tucked close to his chest to avoid the obnoxious scent of sweaty, huffing people, “You’re both making a scene,” his brows furrow over at your accomplice, “Didn’t you just get scolded by Yaga yesterday, Satoru?”

Suguru knows he did, actually, because who else would’ve been the one that held a bag of frozen peas to the hot red lump in Satoru’s forehead for thirty whole minutes?

“Hey,” but you’ve paid neither any mind, pointing at the other end of the display bay to a red-and-white swirled tub. The edges have browned together and its melting points have re-frozen in an unattractive slime, “Gross!” taking Satoru by the hand, you drag him over to the far corner, “Let’s check it out!”

“Hm, we’re way too early,” Shoko pokes her head through the turquoise and cream-striped tent flaps as you order.

“And one coffee scoop,” Suguru calls to you and Satoru when the clan heir beside you finishes demanding two cups of the red velvet cheesecake, pointedly ignoring the baggy-eyed, slouching teenager behind the steel counter.

“On it,” the boy grumbles, scooping up each order in hurried, jerky swings.

Satoru swings a lanky arm through one of yours, head leaning onto yours as he pathetically whines, “My blood sugar is crashing… Won’t make it much longer…”

Two plastic cups in illustrated covers of the stall’s logo slide to another awaiting couple as Satoru sets his card down in preparation to pay. You turn back to Suguru and gesture to the tubs of ice cream, frowning when he merely shakes his head. Shoko inches between you and Satoru, breaking your chain, and you take that as an opportunity to huddle into your broodier friend.

“Are you sure you don’t want anything?”

Satoru turns back at the sound of your voice, abandoning his credit card on the counter, and Shoko watches silently.

“No, you enjoy it,” Suguru insists, smiling despite your puppy-eyed pout.

“But I don’t want you to miss out!”

“I’m happy enough that the four of us can go on a mission again.”

“How sweet,” Satoru wrangles an arm over Suguru’s shoulders, sighing with all the dramatics of a tantrum throwing toddler, “It has been too long since our last mission altogether.”

Shoko nods, moving next to you with one hand jammed into the pocket of her skirt, “It doesn’t help that you two,” she points at the boys, “decided to pick up a couple problem children.”

“Aw, c’mon,” you chirp, “That’s not fair to the girls, and Megumi’s really nice when you know him!”

“Ehh,” she waves her hand loosely, rolling her eyes, “I’ll cross those bridges when they get to high school; I’m no good with kids.”

Shrugging, you think of how well-behaved and kind both Tsumiki and Megumi are (well, Megumi has his moments), “Neither is Satoru and the Fushiguro’s seem fine.”

“Hey,” Satoru is quickly shrugged off his friend’s shoulder when he wails into Suguru’s ear with abandon, “Not fair! I’ve really improved over the months!”

“You still make him stir fry with bell peppers!”

“It’s delicious!”

You glower at his defense, “Doesn’t matter how tasty it is - Megumi’s not gonna eat it!”

Suguru can’t help but ignore the shouting in his ears in favor of appreciating the sight before him. You and Satoru and Shoko. Knowing Nanako and Mimiko are safe and happy at home. With your perfume and even Shoko’s natural nicotine cling working overtime to mask the scent of every monkey crowding this beach. Ignoring the monkeys got easier over time, keeping the real reasons he’s decided to carry on fighting in mind instead. Satoru and Shoko and Nanako and Mimiko and Haibara and Nanami and Yaga and, of course, you.

Two hands slam into his back, the rest of you just barely peeking out from around Suguru’s broad shoulders to glare at Satoru, who’s slung his tea shade sunglasses to the pad of his nose in a vague, blue-eyed threat.

Suguru claps a hand harshly against his friend’s shoulder, jostling the boy’s body, “Put them away, Satoru.”

Shoko bounds out of the small parlor with both hands in her pockets, murmuring something about needing a smoke break.

Satoru pulls his glasses entirely from his face, grinning at Suguru, “Aw, trying to be the big, brave knight?”

“Satoru,” Suguru calls lowly, impatience only thinly veiled.

Effectively cutting off the altercation, a hand cuffs the backs of yours and Satoru’s uniform collars and drags you both towards the open tent flap. Suguru curls his hands into fists at the sight but staves off a retort, even as both you and Satoru are thrown into the sand. A taller man with thicker arms, but the same sunken eyes and tight frown as the teen behind the counter squints down at the both of you, “And stay out!”

“Aw, we didn’t even get our ice cream…”

Shoko tosses her head back, melodic laugher ringing sweetly into your ears before she snaps forward, pinching at your cheek, “Sorry your boytoys couldn’t complete their mission.”

Quirking a brow at her, you don’t even bother to swipe away her fingers on your cheek, “Boytoys…?”

Satoru gasps, ‘tsk’ing at Shoko while covering your ears, “Hey, keep her innocent!”

Shoko removes her hand from you just to knock Satoru’s off the sides of your head. She looks over her shoulder, lips pursing as she surveys the cramped line of tented and umbrella’d stalls, “We should split up. You two are just causing trouble,” she grins at Satoru’s offended look, “As usual.”

Suguru hums, testy and wholly argumentative, “I think we should lay low for the next couple of hours and come back. The curse is more likely to come out at night.”

You frown at the thought of being stuffed into a yellow-walled, vaguely blood-stained, two bed hotel room.

And Suguru backtracks, “Nevermind.”

Snagging you by the arm, Shoko jerks you into her side and jabs a thumb over her shoulder, “We’ll be investigating some swimsuit tents, get a sense of any residuals or smaller curses,” then she points at the duo before you, “You two should find your own thing.”

You’ve given no say before being dragged off to a snowy white tent, sand kicked up and sticking to the flowy drapes. Even small shops for clothing can carry lingering, bothersome curses with anxiety over fat that naturally rolls and jiggles or peeking scars and colored splotches. And despite only having about two years of official sorcery under your belt, you’ve noticed that lingerie, typical underwear, and swimsuits were especially troublesome for gathering curses.

That’s especially noticeable when flyheads and low grade spirits crawl along the tarp, crinkling, unpleasant floor and clawing into the legs and necks of unassuming women. But Shoko has taken no interest in any of them.

Instead, she shoves another wood hanger into your face, “What about this one?”

“Mmm,” clicking your tongue, the sight of a neon orange with lemon yellow lining inspires no particular sparkles or electricity under your skin, “nah.”

Shoko nods and clinks the hanger back onto the rod, “Agreed.”

“Hey, Shoko?” you tilt your head at her, holding out the two swimsuit sets already dangling off your fingers, “How’re we paying for these?”

“Ah!” she snickers, fingers dipping into a skirt pocket before proudly displaying a black, plastic card in her palm, “The Strongest left his card out, so I’m teaching him a lesson,” tucking her hand back into hiding, she grins at you, “So rack up as many as you want.”

“Hmm…”

“He’ll hardly even know the money’s gone.”

“Isn’t that stealing?”

She shrugs, “No.”

Your lashes narrow at that response, brows furrowing, before beaming at Shoko with an enthusiastic nod, “Okay :D”

“That’s the spirit!” she claps you on the back, like a father after his son’s first little league championship.

And like a bushy-tailed young child unburdened by popularity contests and pinching pennies and needing to press the best words into the best order to feel adequate, you gaze out at the seven, stunted racks with wonder. Golden wheat fields that sway in long waves under the wind that whistles through pokey tree branches. A land all yours.

And like every conqueror before, you’re eager to feed on the dancing wheat you don’t yet own, “I wonder which one I’ll wear first.”

“I wonder if they’d want something…” Suguru mutters, only for his own ears.

Satoru blows a raspberry from behind his friend, chin settling onto Suguru’s shoulder and staring down at the wiry, iron shelf with painted, glazed shells and tiny red-lipsticked ladies with thick black curls and wooden curves on plastic, circle podiums and chunky plastic beaded necklaces.

“You’re so obsessed.”

Suguru grunts, slamming an elbow into Satoru’s gut and making no contact, “You were thinking it, too.”

“Not like you,” Satoru waves off, patting himself down for the thin outline of his credit card. When the first search comes up entirely empty, he looks over at Suguru, “Uh,” then returns to his pockets, hands dipping into the gaps, “Huh.”

“What?”

“I don’t have my card,” Satoru taps his foot once, then twice, then shrugs, “Oops.”

“‘Oops,’” Suguru snickers, “Are you gonna cut it off?”

“It’ll turn up somewhere,” stretching his hands above his head, Satoru yawns, “Sorry we can’t get your girlfriend anything.”

“And Shoko. And she’s not my girlfriend… We really should’ve just gone to a hotel, all the smaller curses will be attracted to the dock.”

Satoru can’t even be bothered to deny Suguru his natural right to feeling smug, just turning and waltzing out from the cheap, tacky souvenir stand under a peachy umbrella. Sweat beads miserably down his back and forehead from under his black uniform, shoes sinking into the sand with every step towards the coast.

It was something that nagged at the both of them, honestly. The surface-level pointlessness of this mission, especially the early nature of your group’s settlement. And especially especially because it was so immediately easy to feel where the strongest cursed energy was coming from. Like this buzzing, tender freeze that washed over the both of them - pulling towards one spot on the cluttered beach.

A lone dock by the crashing shore. Splintering, crooked pillars with a deflated, banana yellow ducky floatie dangling between two planks. Likely yet another test of courage spot, popular among vacationing families with young siblings and cousins; eight children of varying ages missing.

“It is weird,” Satoru lowers his glasses along the bridge of his nose, “that all four of us were sent out. Nanami probably could’ve taken this out by himself if it’s just another grade two.”

Suguru shrugs from behind his friend, “Must be a good reason we were all sent out. Maybe the eight brats.”

“Jeez,” Satoru bats a hand backwards in an attempt to smack his friend, he misses completely, “At least sound sympathetic!”

Just before Suguru can reply, your voice is singing out their names. The two turn and Suguru is a little ashamed in the way his body stiffens at the sight of you in a cherry-print bikini. Shoko lingers at your back, texting who you all silently agree to be Utahime. You bounce into the spot before your friends, hands behind your back and a blinding grin curling into your cheeks.

“You look nice,” Suguru’s own voice is lost on him, heart beating so loud in his ears that he can’t quite hear himself. He hopes he sounded suave. He hopes it makes you forget every time he’s embarrassed himself in front of you, and all you see is the charming Suguru that your mom would just love.

“Aww, thanks!” you giggle, holding your bundled uniform tighter to your chest. And he’s even more humiliated over the hope that you’re trying to hide the pounding of your own heart.

Satoru nudges Suguru with an elbow and the favor is returned with a foot jamming down on Satoru’s shoe.

“Shoko and I both agreed,” you unknowingly interrupt their spat, “that before we all totally die, we should have fun on the beach!”

“You shouldn’t say it like that…” Suguru sighs, but the smile is still plain on his face. That question from earlier rises in him - why were you all sent here?

“I think that’s a great idea!” Satoru extends an arm towards you and gladly allows you to tug him towards the water, only releasing hold to let him reactivate his infinity.

Shoko watches from the shoreline with Suguru. She looks up at the man, flipping her phone shut, “You never complimented me, you know?”

“Huh?” Suguru looks first at Shoko’s twisted simper, her raised brow, her low hanging eyelids that let her lashes flutter against her cheeks. Then he notices - a black bikini hugging her own body. He flushes, not over the sight - but because he was caught, “Sorry.”

“You’re such a sucker,” she snickers.

He was caught with that familiar lump in his throat and lethally beating in his chest that only you could cause.

“Hey!” and, of course, it’s you again who calls to him, “C’mon, we wanna play chicken!”

And he’s caught again, red-faced; stripping off his shirt and shoes and socks while Shoko laughs at him. She holds out her phone and watches as he carefully wraps it in his uniform overshirt before trudging down the sands towards you and Satoru. Shoko wades through the crashing water towards Satoru, her hands find his shoulders when they all notice he hasn’t yet joined.

You’re pouting at him and Satoru is groaning, “Just get in! They’re pants - they’ll dry!”

“Easy for you to say,” Suguru huffs, squirming at the feeling of water sticking his pants to his shins as he slowly creeps into the chilled ocean, “Just use infinity for everything…”

“What was that?!” Satoru cups a hand over his ear, neck craning outwards as Suguru approaches, “Didn’t catch that last bit.”

“You’re annoying,” Suguru declares, latching to your side and crouching down just enough for you to scramble up onto his shoulders yet still keep his boxers dry. He feels your arms wrap around his neck, then your thighs bracket shakily around his waist. Suguru palms your thighs and helps lift you to sit up on the broad expanse of his shoulders.

Meanwhile, Satoru yawns, hands on his hips, as Shoko tries yanking herself up onto his back.

“Hey!” she snaps, pounding a fist into his back knowing full well he wouldn’t feel it, “Bend down, would you?!”

“Huh?” Satoru turns to stare down Shoko over his shoulder, sticking his tongue out at her, “Oh! Oops, sometimes I forget how short you are!”

“Hey!”

Suguru tilts his head back to look up at you, both arms secure around your legs, “You okay up there?”

You nod slowly, fingers gently brushing the stray hairs of his bangs from his face, “Uh-huh.”

“See,” Satoru gestures out to you and Suguru, “even our favorite bubble-brain got it done. You’re just not trying hard enough.”

And once again, Shoko digs a fist into his back (and then another when he mockingly hisses and whines).

…

“Don’t be long,” Shoko exhales, noxious smoke rising from her lips with a cigarette perched between two fingers and, in that same hand, texting Utahime once again.

“It’d be quicker if you weren’t slacking off,” Satoru ‘tsk’s, already heading down to the creaky dock with his hands stuffed in his pockets. His cheeks are flaring red from hours prior in the sun, even after the four of you had crawled into a hotspot restaurant to change and cool down.

“Thanks again,” Suguru still clings to your side and you let him, even leaning into it.

“Don’t worry ‘bout it, Sugu,” you grin.

You hadn’t been concerned with how civilians would perceive Suguru in your uniform skirt when he changed out of his soaked pants - not that he’d really care how non-sorcerers think of him anyway. But some bizarre part of you can’t stop looking at his legs in your skirt.

He insisted that you keep your leggings, so his skin is bare to the moonlight past his mid-thigh.

It’s bizarre, most definitely, the part of you that keeps staring at the flex of his thighs beneath your skirt as you both soldier through the sand dunes. Your hand finds Suguru’s and you cradle his arm against your chest, Satoru nowhere in sight. The both of you shuffling under the dock, eyes narrowing in search of your little white-haired friend. You shift closer to Suguru the longer your search goes, hand winding tighter within his.

Wind blows under Suguru’s stolen skirt and chills against your skin, the waves lapping at mushy sand. Your blood beats in your ears, Suguru already peering up at the midnight sky through the gaps in the dock.

Hot air puffs against the side of your face, pale skin bouncing moonlight into your peripherals in a flash, “Boo!”

“Ah!” you squeal, jumping somehow closer into Suguru, glaring at the cackling man through narrowed lashes, “Gojo!”

“Aw,” Satoru pretends to wipe a tear from his eye, flicking the nonexistent tear at you, “So formal! Aren’t we friends?”

“Not after that!”

“Satoru,” Suguru’s resilience is quieter than yours, the hand not entwined with yours is firm on his hip, “You really scared her,” you nod with a ‘hmph!’, “She was already on edge, looking for you no less.”

Satoru drapes himself over you like a frail Victorian woman in shock, “I’m sorry,” he wraps both arms around your neck and squeezes you into his chest, “Will you ever forgive me?”

“Hmm…”

A creak shutters just ahead. The deflated, wrinkly duck floatie shivers. All three heads turn into the abyss.

You tuck your chin close to your chest, wringing your arms around one of Suguru’s as you call, “Hey, Shoko?!”

“What?!” but her call is undeniably still in the direction where you three left her.

“Here it is,” Satoru murmurs, turning to grin at you, nudging his head towards the darkness just ahead, “Let’s go!”

Begrudgingly, you allow Suguru to guide you into the creaking, inky space under this dock.

“You’re making the curse stronger, you know?” Satoru turns to face you, walking backwards with both hands in his pockets.

You groan and go to argue back, but a blobby, brown, mucky curse plops in front of your group. The three of you pause and the little thing blinks up at your group.

It throbs.

“Ew!” you stomp down onto the curse, sand poofs up around your boot and the muddy body pops, splattering around your group’s feet.

“Didn’t even need a technique,” Suguru looks up from the scene of your crime, glaring back down into the darkness, “We weren’t sent here for that.”

The wind brushes past you again, your shoulders bunching up in a vain attempt to keep you warm with too-thin leggings. Suguru’s stolen skirt lifts and he pulls you tighter to his side. Satoru stares down the dock with a tight wound face, glasses slipping down his nose and eyebrows scrunched together with a scowl. You hadn’t seen him like this in a long while. Since Fushiguro, Toji had cut you down. Since that single, echoing shot in the dimly lit tomb’s main chamber.

“Ah…” Satoru switches the weight on his feet, snagging you and Suguru by the fronts of your uniforms and drags you both far to the right. Sand sloshes up in big, cloudy puffs; opaque, turquoise tentacles crash into the spot where your trio once stood, “This could actually be troublesome.”

“Stop being mysterious!” you pop your palm against the side of his head despite knowing his infinity is raised, “What’re you talking about?”

“This curse,” he rolls his eyes with all the annoying arrogance possibly mustered when you and Suguru tilt your heads at his pause, “This curse definitely has one of Sukuna’s fingers.”

“That would explain the loose ofuda,” Suguru notes.

You shiver at the mere idea of the King of Curses aiding your opponent, “How would that even happen?”

“Dunno,” Satoru shrugs and releases the both of you, flexing his fingers of the remaining tension, “We definitely need to take it back though.”

“Definitely,” you nod curtly.

A bulbous head sinks into the moonlight, shiny and smooth and thin, wiry purple webs spread across the surface. The gelatinous skin ripples, entire head jiggling before the turquoise splits and gives way to an eyeball - it bulges wide and the pitch black pupils darts around the surrounding area before settling, shakily onto you, Suguru, and Satoru.

Two big, clawed hands latch onto the back of your uniform top, retching you back. A look up confirms it to be one of Suguru’s more beastly stored curses. Your friend himself stares up at you, “Try and get the eye. Satoru and I will distract the tentacles.”

You nod eagerly, showing off a thumbs up before jamming your arms straight to your sides, “You got it!”

And like the most impressive cartoon clown, you explode out towards the curse. Thrown from Suguru's strong arms ( :D ).

You rip your hands away from your sides and throw them out in front of you, fingers stretching wide as you hurdle towards the fleshy eyeball. Your fingertips are mere inches from grazing the eye, when the pupil turns onto you. A loud crash through sand rings out behind you, two calls of your name, and your heart shoots into your throat.

And the eyeball sinks back with another round of grotesque, rippling skin. You slam into the round head and bounce back off with a freshly punched-out gush of air.

“I got you!” Satoru calls from below, arms out wide to catch you before you could plummet into sand.

“That was such a dirty trick,” you huff, steadying back onto your feet and glaring at the curse. The eyeball peeps out, bumping from the top of its head.

With a teasing hum, Satoru finally tucks his glasses into his pants’ pocket, “It’d be a lot easier if you could just hurry up and learn Domain Expansion.”

“You can’t do it either, Satoru!” Suguru comes to both of your sides.

One of the forefront tentacles flicks up violently, crashing through the unstable, weak wood of the dock. Slats and splinters rain down as the tentacle flies towards your spot on the shore. Satoru and Suguru split from your sides while you remain firm in the sand.

Your arms fly out wide, grinning as you cheer, “Come in for a big hug!” wrapping your arms around the heavy limb, you squeeze and squish your hands down into the fleshy tentacle. The cursed energy of your mother and your mother’s mother and her mother and so on, courses through you in a raging fire. Your nails dig into the curse as you shout once more, “Snip!”

And the tentacle goes limp.

Sliding out from under the weight, you spot Satoru wringing a hand back - some invisible, evolving mass heaving in his palm and drawing the large octopus head forward.

Satoru calls out, “If you wanna swallow this one, you better hurry up and do something, Suguru!”

Rolling his eyes, Suguru watches his Rainbow Dragon untangle, sand flapping out with its tail and tearing up a lonely palm tree. He sweeps you up and seats you in front of him while flying forward on the creature’s back.

“Try and keep it busy for now,” he sets you back down on relatively even sand, “Satoru, make it puke out the finger! I’ll get it from behind!”

“Phrasing!”

You eye the two special grades with a groan, “I’m not a diversion, ya know?!”

But Suguru is already behind and beneath the curse’s line of sight, drawing his own ball of mass into his palm.

And, unfortunately, this pseudo-plan is one you’re already familiar with.

You attack the limbs and divert attention with Satoru as back-up while Suguru condenses and consumes.

But, also unfortunately, this pseudo-plan isn’t usually employed against special grade curses post-swallowing Sukuna’s finger. A special grade (post-swallowing Sukuna’s finger) with the intelligence to avoid your Cursed Technique.

“This isn’t working!” you shout at Satoru after having yet another tentacle shot out of grabbing-range.

He lets one of the remaining tentacles bash close against his infinity, using the force to get to your side.

“Then how ‘bout a change of plans?” Satoru takes no feedback before shooting you up and towards the creature's head, snagging and yanking tentacles to twitch the head upwards.

A gaping, drooly maw is exposed; gnashing, gummy walls in place of teeth. And beneath layers of squishy pink, is a lashing gray tongue. And where there’s a tongue, there must be a stomach.

“Woohoo!” you flail out your arms, squishing between the gums to dig your nails into the creature’s tongue (“The radula!” Shoko would tease, if she were watching). A shaky, ugly groan comes from the creature and it hangs its mouth open, trying to slip you off its organ - the sand is far below. You squeeze tighter when a gush of saliva drips down the tongue - fire rushes through your veins, scorching at your fingertips as you chant, “Snip!”

From above, a loud retch, and the deep purple roof gapes with a single, fleshy finger falling out.

You reach out hurriedly, hands clapping around the cursed object before the sudden effect of gravity takes precedent. The sand begins rushing upward, wind whipping rudely at your hair as the curse above you is sucked into an ugly mauve ball in Suguru’s palm. Not seconds after absorbing the curse, he sends his Rainbow Dragon down after you.

One arm swings around you, pulling you over in front of him, while the other holds the grotesque orb. He holds it less gingerly than you hold Sukuna’s finger, cradling the item to your chest.

“Yay! Thanks, Sugu’,” you lean into his chest, hands still tucked to your chest as you both come back down onto the uneven, pitted sand with scattered, rooted palm trees laying around carelessly.

“Are you hurt?” Suguru scans the skin he can see, “It’s saliva wasn’t venomous, right?”

“Hmm, I don’t think so,” you shrug, “I’ll be okay!”

“And you, Satoru?”

“Don’t worry about me, I just got to be your pretty distraction.”

Suguru nods, turning away all the same to swallow his newest curse.

Satoru comes in front of you, white button up on display with his uniform jacket held out, he nods in the direction of your hands, “Here, we can wrap it in this until we get back.”

Dumping the finger into the center of his jacket, your attention is quickly stolen away by the way Suguru gags around the cursed orb. Satoru cradles the freshly wrapped finger to his chest, settling a hand against his friend’s quivering shoulder. You pat Suguru’s back, leaning your head against his arm as he shudders down the taste, watching his face stretch into a grimace.

But he quickly overcomes it when he notices how you and Satoru are preening over him, clearing his throat and shaking out his tense shoulders.

Another throat clears, further up the shore. A lithe, dainty hand waves, Shoko’s lips grinning around an unlit cigarette - her wave turns into a single finger, pointing up at the clear sky, “None of you put up a veil!”

“Oops…” you pout under the stars, they flicker as if winking just to tease you.

Satoru groans, flinging out his arms in exasperation, already wandering towards Shoko, “It’s nighttime, what does a veil even matter?!”

Suddenly, you perk up, nodding, “Yeah! Exactly!”

Suguru sighs, “Someone’s getting punished for this.”

You take his hand, dragging him through the sand, “Who do you think Yaga will choose?”

…

“It was her!”

Both Satoru and Suguru point over at you, brows furrowed in determination. Your hands squeeze tighter around your skirt (which you freshly got back from a re-pants Suguru), fists pushing into your thighs as the three of you kneel before Yaga.

Stubbornly, you shake your head, “No way, that’s really not fair! It was on all three of us!” when Yaga maintains his stern, crossed arms, you continue, “Shoko could’ve done it! I didn’t even really notice- “

Yaga unfolds his arms, waving you up into a stand, “You don’t have to give credit to save your friends when you’re who found Sukuna’s finger.”

Once again, you try to refuse, but Suguru beats you to the punch, “She was vital in obtaining the cursed object, we couldn’t have retrieved it without her.”

Satoru nods twice to his friend’s point.

“You can join Ieiri,” Yaga’s brows somehow wrinkle even more, a finger pointing in your face, “You’re free because you found the finger. Don’t forget a veil again.”

“Yes, sir!” you chirp, the back of your uniform collar being tugged upward by Shoko. She’s already dragging you out of your teacher’s (now principal’s) office, but you spare the time to turn and wave to your friends, “Good luck, ‘Toru and Sugu’ - I’ll get nice flowers to send your moms!”

Satoru squirms from where he’s kneeling, hand shooting up as soon as you’re out of the room. He can see it perfectly now, a big red welt on the back of his head and a matching one for Suguru, “Actually, she couldn’t have gotten the finger without us, so maybe this punishment isn’t necessary!”

Suguru glares at his friend, “You can’t undo a good deed like that, it’s embarrassing.”

“I could let you off,” Yaga hums, “But you forget, Gojo, this isn’t your first time refusing to put up a veil.”

“It’s not refusing!” he honestly just forgets sometimes! He swears!

Suguru would hit Satoru himself if he weren’t trying so hard to stay still, “You’re making it worse!”

…

“I hope they’ll be okay…” you murmur, hugging Shoko’s arm to your chest as the both of you head down the long steps from Jujutsu Tech, “Yaga didn’t seem too mad, right?”

Shoko watches your step down the stairs for you (your stare now focused on a gaggle of birds singing overhead), “We’ll see if white mums are on sale - take that as our omen.”

And when you both see that banana yellow sign in your favorite old lady’s flower shop advertising bundles of white chrysanthemums for only 1,000 yen a piece - you send a prayer to Satoru and Suguru’s souls.

[sunshineandspencer]

Idiot (Iridescent, Part 7)

Let me stress, this is not Maeve from the show, but my own Maeve just named the same to send Spencer into hell whenever he thinks about it.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!BAU!OC.

Summary: Spencer Reid, in the face of his own emotions, crashes and burns.

Word Count: 888

Warnings: swearing, spencer is an ass™

Parts: Pt1, Pt2, Pt3, Pt4, Pt5, Pt6, Pt8

Spencer is back in Penelope’s office not even a week later.

In the middle of the breakroom, he’d snapped, loud and harsh, at Ava. Then let her storm off and clock out of work to go home early.

Since realising his emotions, he did the only realistic thing and distanced himself from Ava immediately. Of course she had noticed, but didn’t take it too personally, just giving him the extra time to get back to whatever he deemed as normal.

But by Friday, she’d had enough and had gently started prodding him for answers in the morning. His irritation, and fear of being caught out, caused him to finally lash out.

Once Penelope found out what he’d done, considering how quickly word spread, she had dragged him back to the cave. For a much worse conversation than the one they’d had the week before.

He doesn’t even get a plush this time, just shoved into a chair as she stood over him, hands on her hips.

“What did you say to her?”

She watched, gleefully, as he squirmed in his seat. Wanting to break through that thick, somehow genius brain of his. God, he just wanted to talk about Ava, but not like this - emotions are hard.

“That.. she’s a brown-nosed suck up who needs to stop fishing for things to do, because nothing she agrees to do will get people to like her.”

In his defence, it was supposed to come from a good place, but his meaning got lost in the translation and irritation from the morning. Along with the original reason he’d blown up in the first place.

Ava is a pushover, they both know that, most people do, which is why she gets used so often by people who don’t want to do their own work. She’s far too sweet for her own good, and whenever anyone asks her to do their work, she does. When someone came up in the breakroom to get her to finish off some reports, he finally exploded.

It was for her own good, wanting her to take care of herself and focus on her own work rather than other people’s. He’s right, he just.. chose the wrong words.

“I just.. Penelope, she already has too much on her plate, but she keeps accepting work from people. She should learn to say no to people, even if I didn’t say it in the.. best way.”

From the way Penelope’s hand twitched, he’s suddenly very glad that Penelope doesn’t like violence, or would have definitely been slapped by now. Shifting slightly as she pinches the bridge of her nose.

But, in her defence, it was finally hitting him just how bad he’d fucked up.

In his head, he had been sorting out his thoughts, and knew he would’ve eventually had a perfect way to bring up his concerns with Ava. But he’d been overly stimulated and lashed out.

He was going to address Ava’s issues, and he did, in a roundabout way. At the time, unable to think properly, it seemed like the best way to deal with it, directly telling her what he found wrong with what she did. Not liking that she spread herself so thin for people who cared so little.

It felt like the wrong words for the right situation.

Until he was met with a glaring Penelope and zero way out.

“Are you telling me that you’d finally come to terms with liking her, and the first thing you did was insult her.. to her face?!”

“Would you have preferred it if I said it behind her back?”

“I would prefer for you to start using at least one of your 187 IQ points!”

Okay, he definitely deserved that, and he was trying to resist the urge to sulk and pout, because he knew it definitely wouldn’t help his case. But he really felt like he was being scolded by his mother.

It is working, however.

All he could think about was the way Ava’s eyes had immediately widened. Letting him see in heartwrenching detail, the way each and every golden speck around her pupil dull with shock and embarrassment.

Her lips pursing as she shoved the files to his chest with a terse “you fucking do it then, since clearly it won’t make them like me”, before she stormed off to Emily’s office.

Penelope had watched the realisation dawn on his face, quickly flooding that emotion over with shame and guilt. Intervening right before he slipped from apologetic to wallowing.

She has a solution.

Ushering him up and out of her office, not paying attention to his spluttering as she practically shoved him out. Twittering happily as she felt her plans falling into place.

“Flowers - lilacs - and a card, oh, and you best get some wine. Rosé is her favourite. I’ll put through your paperwork for a day off and let Emily know, do not mess up with the first woman you’ve liked in years.”

For a few moments, they just stood facing each other, Spencer taking it all in and Penelope grinning at him. But then his smile ticked up until it matched her own, leaning in to quickly smush a kiss to her cheek and then turn to half-sprint down the corridor. Calling out over his shoulder.

“Thanks Pen! I owe you one!”

Want more?! Good!

[squirrellypoo]

Ep8 "What Can The Damned Really Say To The Damned" rewatch thoughts (Part 2)

Here's my second set of things I noticed on my third rewatch! Part 1 is here if you missed it...

11. On Claudia's first visit to the forest, we can briefly see a red mark on one of the trees. When brightened up, it's clearly a handprint, in fresh blood. Edit: ah, it’s not blood but paint from the kids painting their hands and slapping trees to show how far they could go into the forest!

12. I totally missed that the BBC radio bulletin talks about looted art being loaded onto trucks to be taken back to Paris! So that’s how they knew to jump in a truck and be taken all the way there rather than just random hitch-hiking.

13. Morgan mentions that Louis's photo of Grace was printed onto albumen, by a glass-plate camera, and I was intrigued by this and wanted to learn more. If you're also interested, have a read of this Wikipedia article.

14. I thought I must've been missing some sort of reference in Daniel's “Maybe you’re just frosting the pie?” line (about Louis remembering Claudia dreaming), but Google has no evidence this is a saying? So it looks like this was just a Daniel-ism? How odd.

15. Ohhhhh it's a factory they're all camping in! That makes sense, with the thick walls and boiler room, but I couldn't quite work out whether it was a church or meeting hall or what.

16. Claudia is singing the Anna Anna nursery rhyme that the children just taught her in order to lure the pissing soldier into the woods. Nice touch!

17. Both soldiers from the woods are in Daciana's castle. First we see one in the room that Louis and Claudia pass through before the one on the table by the fire that she calls “a burnt tray of bread”. Guess this first guy just dies after a while? Or maybe Louis and Claudia finish him off?

18. In the Dubai bedroom, there’s nothing on Armand’s bedside table (nothing!) but on Louis’s side there are so many well-thumbed books, cascading from the nightstand onto the floor…

19. The TdV programme is for “Des Cris Dans Les Ténèbres!” (Shrieks in the Darkness). I love that the actual item is in French, but the posters up all around Paris are in English, because Louis would’ve translated them into English and that’s how he remembered them! The details! 🤌

20. In the truck scene, Louis is still healing from Daciana’s attack. It made me wonder how long it would take to drive (pre-motorways!) from Romania to Paris. So I looked it up, and using modern roads, but avoiding motorways, it'd take 31hrs straight. But they’d have to break to sleep somewhere safe in the day, and many of the roads and bridges would likely have been bombed and required detours, so I think we can assume it'd take several days to get there. So if Louis still isn't healed by the time we see them outside Paris, he is one seriously malnourished vampire. 😔 The blood really was bad there!

And that's my list of weird things I noticed in the first episode! Part 1 is here if you missed it, and do let me know in the notes if there's any of these you missed, too!

[youvebeenlivingfictional]

Ok but what would it be like for bruce and shopgirl when valentine's day arrived?¿

Previous Part | Masterlist | Next Part

Pairing: Bruce Wayne x Reader

Length: 2.9K

Warnings: Mostly fluff; light angst; implied sexytimes; Alexa, play Pillowtalk

It's the first Valentine date you’ve ever gotten on a plane for. 

Bruce had been guarded about telling you, but his plans for the two of you just happened to intersect with something that he needed to handle outside of Gotham’s jurisdiction. You try not to think too hard about it. Whatever Bruce was getting up to, he got up to before you even got to Gran Canaria. Since you’ve arrived, the two of you have spent every moment together in a lux, rented villa. Your nerves from the past couple of weeks are steadily dropping away, and Bruce has been pretty well-rested. He’s more relaxed, more open than you’ve seen him before. 

You can’t help but wonder if he would’ve been as relaxed if you hadn’t found out about what he gets up to at night. You glance over at him now, lips pulling up with a smile when you find him completely asleep on the pool chair beside yours. His mouth is parted in his sleep; his sunglasses are a touch askew. You glance back, then lower the book you were reading to your seat. You stand and take hold of a patio umbrella, tugging it closer to the chairs, shading Bruce’s body. Then you settle back down, taking up your book. You hesitate before you glance up. The shade is covering the both of you, and you still want to get some sun. 

You swing your legs off of the chair, tip-toeing over to the pool and sitting down on the edge, sliding your legs into the cool water. You smile, wiggling your toes and taking your book up again. 

You’re not going to lie—taking nearly a week off from the store had been sort of risky. To be honest, you’re not completely certain your job will be there when you get back. Your manager had made you aware of the fact that she’d be bringing someone in to temp in your place, and if it went well, their performance would be weighed and measured against yours. Well, she's been looking for a way to get rid of you since you disappeared in the middle of the day to grab lunch with Bruce. You wouldn’t be surprised if you had to job hunt when you get home.

You sigh softly as your mind buzzes with the possibility, setting your book aside and peering out over the infinity pool, swinging your legs beneath the water. You glance back, doing a double take as you see Bruce rousing, adjusting his sunglasses on the bridge of his nose. You smile as he pushes himself to stand, walking over to you. 

“Did you have a nice nap?” You ask. 

Bruce yawns, then grunts. He carefully nudges your book back from the edge of the pool before sitting down beside you. 

“Water’s cold,” He mumbles sleepily. 

“That’s sort of the point, babe.” 

“Shade was cold, too. I don’t remember that umbrella being there.” 

“I moved it. I wasn’t sure how long you’d be asleep and I didn’t want you to wake up looking like a lobster.” 

“How kind of you.” 

“Though the sunburn-pink hue would’ve been festively appropriate.” 

Bruce smiles, leaning in and pressing a kiss to your bare shoulder. You tip your head against his, closing your eyes for a moment. 

“You get any rest?” He murmurs. 

“Just read for a while.”

“You should’ve napped. You won’t been getting much sleep for a couple of days,” He teases before nipping your shoulder. You smile, wriggling and slapping his thigh. Bruce chuckles, curling his arm around your middle and drawing you closer to his side. 

“You want something to drink?” He asks. You consider for a moment before you shrug.

“Sure.” 

“Champagne?” 

“Mhm.” 

“Alright.” 

You watch, brows raising, as Bruce pushes himself back, standing. You figured he’d just call out to Alfred, who hasn’t been too far from the two of you since you arrived, but Bruce is heading for the villa.

You sigh again, leaning back on your hands. Things between you and Bruce have been a little…Stilted since you learned the truth about his nightly activities. Some things have been a little easier. You don’t question every move that Bruce makes, any off-handed comment or sudden splotch of bruising on his body. But where you used to spend most nights wondering what he was up to, you now spend most nights wondering if he’s even going to make it home. You keep your eyes peeled for any mentions of Batman in the news and in newspapers; you’re tracking 'Batman', 'Caped Crusader', and 'Bruce Wayne Batman' on several social media sites. 

You do wonder if Bruce had planned to take you on a trip before you found out, or if it’s something that he wound up doing because he feels he owes something to you for his secrecy, his split attentions. You wonder if, during this vacation, his mind is really with you, or if it’s with the people of Gotham, the people that he may be neglecting by being here. Your stomach squirms with discomfort, the idea that Bruce may regret taking the time to be with you. You wiggle your toes beneath the water, trying to dispel the feeling with subtle movement. You’re so distracted that you don’t notice the shadow falling over you, or the glass being held out to you. 

“Here.” 

The lean of the word tells you that Bruce said it at least twice before he caught your attention. Your head snaps up, a smile slapped on your face as you take the champagne flute. 

“Thanks,” You reach up, taking it from him and raising it for a sip as Bruce sits back down beside you. 

“You okay?” He asks. 

“Yeah! Yeah, I zoned. Sorry.”

Bruce nods, gaze sweeping your face curiously. You lower your head a touch, trailing your finger over the glass. 

“So,” You clear your throat, “Any plans for the rest of the day?” 

“I thought we could go do some shopping, maybe stay in for dinner.” 

“Sounds good,” You nod. “You making Alfred cook?” 

“No,” Bruce chuckles. “He’s got the night off.” 

“Mm…Catered?” 

“I’ve got it all planned, don’t you worry about that.” 

--  

“He cooks,” You gasp, resting your hand over your heart in shock. 

“Yeah, yeah,” Bruce mutters, but you can see the smile creeping on his lips. 

“Do you want my help?” 

“No.” 

“Can I help?” 

“Nope.” 

“Why not?” 

“Would you just relax?” Bruce chuckles, glancing away from the stove to meet your eye. “Have a drink, turn on some music, something.” 

You pout, reaching out and snagging your champagne flute. You consider him for a moment before you walk over to him, cuddling against his back as he often down cook. You smile as he lowers his hand to rest over yours, giving it a gentle squeeze before letting go. 

“It smells good,” You murmur. 

“Tastes even better.” 

--  

“You were right.” 

“Oh?” 

“Mm. It was delicious,” You practically purr, curling your arm around Bruce’s middle. He smiles, turning his head and nuzzling against your forehead before pressing a kiss there. The two of you have curled up on the large, plush couch after dinner and dessert. Ella Fitzgerald croons sweetly over the speaker system. You’re full, and comfortable, and happy. You feel like the center of Bruce’s world. His arm is curled around you, keeping you close as his fingers skate along the fabric of the dress that you’d bought for the occasion. 

“Thank you for this,” You add softly, tipping your chin up. 

“Thank you for the book,” He counters, looking down at you. You nod, glancing toward where it sits on the table. It was one that he’d mentioned to you about a month ago (on extradition—you’ve tried not to think about why he might want it). 

“Glad you like it.”

Bruce reaches down, stroking his knuckles along your jaw. You smile, tipping your cheek into the touch and letting your eyes fall closed. 

“C’mon,” Bruce urges. You frown as he draws away, pushing himself off of the couch. 

“What?” 

“Come here,” He holds his hand out to you. You hesitate before you take hold of it, giggling as he tugs you close, wrapping his arm around your waist. He begins to sway the two of you gently to the music, his gaze sweeping your face before his eyes hold steadily on yours. You rest your hand on his shoulder and look at him in kind, unable to help the smile that grows on your lips. Just a little while ago, looking at someone and being looked at like this would intimidate you. Now, you just feel seen and cared for, and special. 

You lift your hand from Bruce’s shoulder, cupping his cheek gently. Bruce pushes his cheek into the touch before he turns his head, brushing his lips across your palm. His hand smooths down your back, drawing you impossibly closer as he rests his forehead against yours. You let your eyes slip closed, allowing yourself to just sway, and feel the warmth of Bruce’s body. You smile at the brush of Bruce’s nose brushing against yours, followed by the sweet press of his lips. You tip your chin up into the kiss, chasing his affection. Your hand slides along his cheek, slipping up into his hair and winding around the strands. The sound of his groan buzzes against your lips. You part them, shivering as Bruce’s tongue skates tenderly along yours. 

The two of you still in your swaying, falling out of time with the music and into sync with one another. Bruce’s hand smooths up your back, coming to rest on your nape as he turns your head as he likes. You let him guide, yielding to his squeezes and shifts. You shiver as he takes a few steps back toward the bedroom, his fingers lowering to tap on the zipper of your dress questioningly. 

--  

You can imagine the trail of clothing that Alfred will spot when he returns to the villa. You can only hope that he doesn’t trip over your bra, wherever that landed. You smile as Bruce’s sated body shifts against yours, as he presses a sweet kiss to your neck. You slide your feet up to brace on the bed, cradling his hips with your knees and curling your arms around his shoulders. You shiver as he brushes against your still slick, aching core. 

“I’m gonna need a few minutes before I’m ready to go again,” He warns.

“Just a few?” You tease.

“Are you callin’ me old?” 

“Making sure I don’t wear you out, Wayne. You’ve got work to do when you get back to Gotham.” 

You mean it jokingly, but it makes Bruce go still. You sigh softly, tipping your head back against the pillow. 

“I’m sorry,” You mumble. “I didn’t mean it like that.” 

“It’d be alright if you did.” 

“Would it?” 

Bruce rests his chin on your shoulder. You can feel him watching you closely. 

“Yes,” He insists. The two of you lay in contentious quiet for a few moments. He slides his hand over thigh gently. “Do you wish I hadn’t told you?” 

“I don’t know,” You admit. “Sometimes. Mostly when we’re back in Gotham, when I can’t sleep.” 

“Why can’t you sleep?” 

You purse your lips into a thin line. 

“I worry about you.” 

“That happen a lot?” 

“Every day.” 

Bruce presses his face into your neck, grip tightening on your thigh. 

“You think I don’t worry about you? Especially after that incident at the store.” 

“Yeah, well, you may not have to worry about it anymore.” 

It falls out of your mouth with bitter tiredness, and you wince as Bruce tips his chin up to get a better look at you. 

“Why’s that?” He asks. 

“Nothing,” You sigh, “Never mind.” 

“Oh no,” He pushes himself to sit up, leaning against the headboard. “I’ve learned that when you say nothing, there is in fact something.” 

“Is it those strong deductive skills that make you so unstoppable as a vigilante?” You ask dryly. You’re surprised to see Bruce smile as he nods. 

“That’s part of it.” 

“What’s the other part? The inability to answer a straight question or the backlogged billions of dollars?” 

“Actually it’s my ability to see through diversion tactics. So, what happened at work?” 

Damnit. 

You sigh softly, shaking your head. “I’ve been thinking of finding a new job,” You excuse. It’s not a complete lie, but it’s not the whole truth. Bruce doesn’t seem to buy it, but he doesn’t lean any more heavily into it, either. 

“Doing the same thing?” 

“I guess,” You shrug. “I’ve been working in retail for a while. Not sure what else I’d do.” 

“...We don’t have any retail, but I’m sure we could find you something.” 

“We?” You repeat, brows raising. 

“Sure. Wayne Enterprises is always hiring.” 

“Oh—Bruce, I don’t know.” 

“Could just give the listings a browse, see if there’s anything you like. I can put in a good word.” 

“I don’t want you to do that.” 

“Why not?” 

“Because you’re Bruce Wayne, there’s like, no doubt that I’d get it.” 

“I know, that’s why I’m offering.” 

You scoff a laugh, reaching up and pushing Bruce’s shoulder as he grins. 

“C’mon, you know I don’t play that card unless it’s for a good reason,” He adds. 

“On our first date, you rented out an entire restaurant and then took me to get fast food.” 

“Because you didn’t think I would do it.” 

“My point is you played the Bruce Wayne card to rent out the restaurant.” 

“Yes. And everyone there got paid for a full night with the Bruce Wayne credit card.” 

“Well that’s true,” You agree, tipping your head from side to side. Bruce watches you for a moment. 

“Tell you what,” He finally says. “Just…Take a look, see if there’s anything you like the look of. I’ll do some snooping, find out what they liked and didn’t like about the last few people in that position.” 

“Legal snooping or illegal snooping?” 

“Legal snooping.”

“You promise?” 

“Cross my heart. Alright?” 

You smile, nodding. 

“Alright.” 

Bruce leans down, giving you a gentle kiss. You smile, lowering your hand and rubbing his thigh gently. Bruce hums into the kiss, leaning back for just a moment before he shifts down and draws you atop him. You groan softly, sucking on his lip, giggling as he rolls his hips up against yours.

“You fully recovered, Wayne?” You mumble.

“You wanna see how recovered I am?” 

"I can feel it just fine.” 

--  

“I think that’s the last of it,” You sigh, passing your bag over to Alfred. “Thank you.” 

“Of course, miss.” 

“Where’s Bruce?” You ask, nodding to the empty backseat of the car. “I thought the jet was supposed to take off in, like…An hour.” 

“The advantage of taking a private jet is that it doesn’t take off until you’d like for it to,” Alfred smiles. “He said that he would be along shortly.” 

“Huh,” You nod, glancing back toward the villa, “Lemme just…” You pat down your pockets, freezing when you realize that you left your phone in the villa. “Ah…Shit, be right back.” 

“Do hurry, wheels up in half an hour,” Alfred calls after you. 

“That’s not funny!” You call back before jogging into the villa. You glance around the surfaces, spotting your phone where you left it on the kitchen counter. 

“Oh, thank fuck,” You mutter, hurrying over to it. 

“I was gonna bring that out,” You hear behind you. You glance back, smiling when you see him coming closer. 

“No need. You got everything?” 

“Yeah, forgot my passport was in the bedroom. I think it fell out of my jacket when we got in here.” 

“Oh. Where was it?” 

“Under the nightstand.” 

“Jeez. Did you have to toss the room to find it?” 

“No, the corner was peaking out.” 

“That’s lucky.” 

“Mhm. C’mon, we’ll be late for the flight.” 

“It’s your jet.” 

“I know,” Bruce chuckles, taking hold of your hand. “I just wanted to see you get a little twitchy.” 

“You’re an asshole, Wayne,” You pout, following him out of the villa. The sky is growing darker and darker. You can only hope that you’re able to sleep on the jet. If you can’t, you’ll need a straight-up coffee injection for work when you get back…Provided you still have a job when you get there… 

“...You’re doing it again,” Bruce says, breaking your concentration, and you look forward to find him holding the door open for you expectantly. 

“Hm?” 

“What are you thinking?” 

“Nothing.” 

You nearly wince as Bruce’s brows jump in disbelief. 

“Just—Just thinking that I’m gonna miss this place,” You excuse, waving back toward the house. “It’s nice, you know.” 

“Well,” Bruce looks back toward it. “We can come back some time.” 

“I’ll keep that in mind.” 

“Good. Stop pouting,” Bruce reaches up, gripping your chin and leaning in for a kiss. You smile swaying up into him and hooking your fingers in his collar. 

“Get in the car,” He murmurs, leaning back, “We’ll be late.” 

“We’ll be late,” You repeat childishly before sliding into the back of the car. You look up as you settle in, frowning when you see him still standing outside, looking around. 

“...Bruce?” You press. “What is it?” 

He doesn’t move for a moment before he gets into the car with you. 

“Thought I saw something,” He mutters before shooting you a reassuring smile. “Don’t worry about it. All set, Alfred,” He adds, turning to look to the front seat. 

“Just in the nick of time, sir. I may have to speed if you want to make it through security if you want to make your flight on time.” 

They chuckle as you huff, folding your arms across your chest and sliding down in your seat. 

“You guys are mean.”

Next Part

[minimomoe]

Lipstick Fist

Pairing: Nanami x Black Reader (Mafia AU!)

Rating: 19+ MDNI

Word ct: 7k

tags: violence (not towards reader), nanami just wants to be with his wife, pet names (darling, sweetheart, etc), blood kink, fingering, blow job, vaginal sex, mating press... hmm I think that's it

Preview: You looked up at his face once again and Nanami also noticed the stain, bringing his hand up to wipe the bloody rivulet off from under his nose but you stopped him from doing that by leaning down for a kiss. You quickly moved your lips against his, taking his top lip in between yours and the metallic taste of iron filled your mouth....

Song inspo: you've seen the butcher- deftones

~~~

There’s only a few things that Kento Nanami truly hated. Traffic, soggy bread, and idiots to name some. Traffic and soggy bread are usually the products of stupidity and carelessness, so idiots are actually on the top of his shitlist. So many things could’ve been avoided if somebody, anybody, would’ve just taken the time to think. But that would be asking for too much. He never wanted to be the voice of reason in most situations. He’d rather not talk at all.

Except when it came to you. The light of his life, the apple of his eye, his slice of heaven with soft serve ice cream on top. He could be completely honest to you, almost childishly complaining about the idiots in the world and you are the one true person on his side, even if he’s being a little dramatic. If only he could hole away with you forever and leave all of his troubles behind. Just the thought of doing that made his shoulders lighter, but there was always more work to be done. 

And today there seems to be a never ending flow of work for him. He checked his watch and pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration. He was supposed to already be on his way home to you by now. 

And you knew that. You had spent the day running errands, but when you called Nanami earlier he still told you that he was still caught up and that you might have to eat dinner without him. You could hear the fatigue in his voice and frowned at the thought. You had finished your own errands for the day and opted to try out a new bakery along with some last minute grocery items. It didn’t feel right heading straight home while you knew that Nanami was only twenty minutes away from your location, and Gojo, the closest person your husband has to a best friend, was texting you like he wasn’t busy at all. 

Against your better judgment you rerouted the driver to the bar where you were going to patiently wait for your husband to finish his duties and come to meet you until you saw a familiar head of white hair sauntering into a building. 

“Stop the car, please. I’ll be good from here,” you told the driver and their face paled. 

“Ma’am we should really—“

“I’ll be just fine. You know Gojo, right? Don’t let me tell him that you’re doubting his abilities,” you said, already out of the car and deciding to take the box from the bakery with you. “Just stand on by. If anything happens, scoop me up.” You gave one last smile to the driver and shut the far, the dark tinted windows blocking out their face. You whipped around in search of Gojo and were surprised to see him so close behind you already. You could’ve sworn he was already inside the building. 

“What are you doing on this side of town?”

“I wanted to see Kento. Surprise him with some food,” you said fondly and held up the box.

“He’s not here,” Gojo said coolly. His rounded sunglasses did little to block out the intensity of his eyes that peeled through. They glowed almost neon in the sunlight. 

“Gojo, don’t play with me.” Your smile dropped immediately and you walked past him to enter the building. 

“No need to get all spikey. I was obviously joking. Are any of those for me?” He was referring to the takeout box in your hand and you gave him a dry “no.”

“You’re just like Nanamin. No wonder you’re married to him.”

The sentence made you warm inside, a smirk growing on your face. Your footsteps echoed in the warehouse, walking through the garage entrance still in search of your lover. You stuck to the walls and shadows, not wanting to disturb anybody.

“Where is he?” You called out behind you to Gojo. 

“Why should I tell you? It’s not like you’re ever nice to me.” Gojo crossed his arms over his chest and you rolled your eyes. The fact that he wore black jeans and t-shirt made him illuminate even more outside of the sun. His glasses pushed his hair up and out of his face now, a faux pout decorating it while you scanned the area. 

From outside you could hear a car engine rumble and pull-up to the garage opening and Gojo was by your side immediately, like he teleported next to you. 

“Who’s that?” You whispered when he pulled you away deeper into the shadows. You knew it was for your sake rather than his own, as Gojo wouldn’t hide from anyone. 

“Probably somebody I pissed off. Maybe. I can’t keep track anymore.”

Three men clambered out of the car. The two younger ones in the back statues behind the taller, more imposing man in the front. His frame filled his clothing, his blue jeans and leather jacket nearly bursting at the seams. From the far corner of the room you saw your husband emerge from a door, his eyebrows pinched together in annoyance when he saw the visitor. 

“Gojo aren’t you going to help him?” 

It’s not that you didn’t think Nanami couldn’t handle whatever this was about to be. You never doubted your husband’s abilities, but the other man had death flaming behind his eyes and it was hard to watch Nanami on the other side of that gaze. He took heavy steps towards Nanami, each footfall flooding your heart with dread. You wanted to call out to him but decided against it when you felt Gojo’s touch.

“He doesn’t need help. I think he’d beat my ass if I stepped in,” Gojo chuckled, holding your shoulders and gently pulling you back. You clutched the desert that you had brought with you and sighed. Gojo was right, there was nothing you could do to help him. You would only get in his way and that is not something that you wanted to do. It was already enough that you arrived unannounced. 

“I was told that there’s a blond with four eyes working here. You’re the one who sent my men away?” 

Nanami sighs and takes a glance to the left of him, then the right of him and then looks back at the burly man. He’s not that much different in height, just a few inches taller the closer he walked up to Nanami and had his hair slicked back in a greasy curtain. 

“Do you see any other blond four eyes?” 

Nanami could see the anger building up in the other man, his jaw getting tighter and his fingers twitching at his sides. “You can’t just fuck me over like that. We had a deal ,” he seethed through clenched teeth. 

“Yes. We had a deal, and now we don’t. Last time I checked, you brought the shipment an hour late. Do you know how long an hour is? What I could've done with that time?” Nanami was especially pissed because it had kept him from getting back home to you sooner. He absolutely despised when his time with you got cut short. It took everything in him to not say “fuck it” and be as reckless and uncaring as everybody else is but he has standards he holds himself to. 

“You still got it. I’m sure you found them useful.”

Nanami gave a dull stare to the other side of the warehouse clearing where whatever shipment of something you were in the dark about sat. The other man sputtered up, his face growing redder by the second and he began to shout. Nanami took off his glasses and produced a lens wipe from his back pocket. Gojo was giggling beside you, shaking his head at the encounter but you could only watch them intently. The only time you drew your eyes away from them was when you felt movement in your hands, only to find out that Gojo was trying to open the box from the bakery you had brought for your husband. You swatted his hand away from poking at it. 

“Oh come on! You always bring him something and never me!”

“We’re not married, Satoru.”

“So what, you have to be married to be nice now? I’ve always made sure that Kento is safe and sound when you’re not around,” he pouted. 

“Oh really? And what's going on over there?”

“That,” he pointed, snagging a muffin out of the box you finally opened for him. He read the cover of it, mentally filing away the name “Love Bites” for later. “Is a person making the biggest mistake of their life. I’m surprised Nanami’s even entertaining them,” he said with a full mouth. You jumped and closed the box when you saw the other man start to get rowdy and suddenly had a pointed gun at Nanami. 

You gasped, your heart paralyzed but Nanami stayed as calm and collected as ever. The henchmen that the other man brought with him started to laugh amongst themselves, and Gojo, who still remained by your side, took another bite of his muffin. 

“What to do Nanamin, what to do,” he muttered. 

Nanami looked past the barrel and straight ahead. “If you kill me now what happens? We still won’t need you, and you start a war. How does that help you at all?” 

“I’ll start with your ass, then the bitch standing over there like a lost puppy and the white haired freak next to her. I can worry about the rest later.” 

Nanami paused for only a second. He didn’t know that you were here, but knowing that Gojo was with you made him a little less worried. Nanami still had no idea why you decided to come, and the fact that this man had the audacity to bring you into it made him snap, whether he actually knew who you were or not. 

“It looks like I touched a nerve,” he smirked when Nanami was still unmoving, shifting his gun and body from Nanami to where you were standing with Gojo but was no longer there. Gojo had hurried you up the stairs to the upper level of the warehouse as soon as he had finished his muffin because he had the suspicion that you would become an interest to the newcomer. The man’s smile faltered when he no longer saw you, and now that you were out of harm's way, Nanami removed his tie. You had an overhead view of Nanami from the balcony. You watched him wrap his yellow and brown spotted tie around his knuckles, slowly and deliberately, and walked surely towards the other man. 

“Where the fuck did she–”

But he never got to finish the question because Nanami’s fist collided with his jaw. It was a sickening sound, like a wrecking ball smacking a brick wall. It was a hard enough impact that you winced and touched your own face. Satoru let out a huff of laughter, his eyes bright like he was watching a movie. The man staggered back, stunned by the hit so powerful the gun he held fell out of his hand and skidded on the floor. Before he could find his footing Nanami striked again, aiming for the center in his stomach and the other man was wheezing, walking away to stretch the space between him and Nanami, but there was no going back now. Nanami had one goal in mind that could not be stopped until it was achieved, and that was to have this man regret ever questioning him in the first place.

“Five minutes,” Gojo said, leaning close to your ear but his eyes were still glued to the fight. 

“What?”

“I bet Nanami’s gonna lay slickback’s ass out in five minutes. Probably even less.” 

Your gaze trailed back to Nanami and he had the other man's shirt crumpled in his hand and his voice was gravely deep. 

“Tell me the real reason why you’re here. There has to be a better reason than this.” 

“You all think you’re such hot shit but you guys need me. Nobody else will even—“

“I don’t need you,” Nanami growled. 

The dark haired man sneered, spitting in Nanami’s face and his mouth was full of blood as he spoke. “She means something to you, doesn’t she? I should’ve used her to make something shake a long time ago.”

He took Nanami by surprise and smashed his head into his face. You took a step closer but Gojo held you back, his hand heavy on your shoulder. You didn’t even notice that you were so close to the balcony already. Nanami’s teeth bared themselves when his knee came up to crush the man’s stomach, then when he was hunched over Nanami delivered a sharp hook to the side of his face. The other man dropped to his knees and waved his arms around, his senses lagging behind and he couldn’t tell when or where Nanami was going to hit him next. 

You watched Nanami’s powerful arms strike the man with dangerous precision, aiming for weak spots and the sound of awful thumping echoing in the warehouse. The henchmen that had accompanied him stood in horror as they watched their boss turn into a human punching bag. The man on the floor was still fighting, trying to get a grip on Nanami and failing miserably because his arms were never quick nor strong enough to stop the next blow coming down on his body. Blood splattered on Nanami’s face and clothes yet he didn’t stop until the man below him was motionless. 

Gojo finally clapped his hands together, walked towards the edge of the balcony, then cupped his hands around his mouth to call Nanami. 

“Look at the mess you're making, Nanamin. I’m the one who usually overdoes it,” he teased. Nanami slowly looked up to Gojo, his breathing finally slowing down. The anger that allowed him to beat someone to a pulp was still etched in his face, wrinkles pronounced and with his lips set in a hard line, and it shot electricity down your spine. He caught a glance of you, looking down at him like an angel of sorts and his gaze softened. You wore a shale pink wrap dress, your hair piled high on top of your head and eyes as wide as an owl’s. He really wished you hadn’t been there but it was comforting to know that you didn’t run for the hills at his outburst. You were still there, shock evident in your face and an undercurrent of something else he couldn’t quite place, but concern was clearly the heavier emotion. Above all you were worried about him . 

Nanami felt something brush his ankle and peered down at his feet. A weak hand clawed at him, making Nanami raise a brow. “You can still move? Let’s fix that.” 

“Boss?” One of the henchmen called out, terrified for their leader yet hope was laced in their voice, like he could possibly turn this around. Nanami didn’t like the sound of that at all. He shoved the other man in his side with his feet until he flipped over on his stomach facing the two guests. 

More blood sputtered out of his lips when he tried to crawl away as Nanami watched him impassively. When he failed for the third time Nanami pressed one foot in the middle of his shoulder blades, forcing him back down and he protested against it. 

“Since neither of you tried to intervene, I’m assuming he told you not to. Or maybe he was going to use this as a learning lesson,” he said, reaching down to pull at his arms. “And I do hope that you learn something from this.” Nanami eased his foot off of his body so that his chest was suspended off the floor by his arms only. The warehouse was deathly quiet before Gojo spoke. 

“He’s really taking a page out of my book,” Gojo gasped. His hands pressed over your ears and you couldn’t tear your eyes away from the scene. His hands did nothing to muffle the howling that ensued, the acoustic building amplifying the pleas for mercy and screams, making your teeth ache. Your husband was pushing his foot back down, pulling the arms in and up until his shoulders no longer held them in place and they were rendered useless. 

“You can always be replaced in this business,” he said to them when the wails subsided. 

“Except for you, Nanamin! I love you too much to let you go,” Gojo shouted, then dropped his hands from your ears.

Nanami rolled his eyes then watched the two younger men retreat back to their car, the tires screeching as they ran away. 

“I know you’re rolling your eyes but I mean it!” 

The man beneath Nanami made a gurgling noise and Nanami squatted down next to him and grabbed the strands of hair on his head into a ponytail, lifting up his face. It’s swollen, bloodied and unrecognizable from the hothead who came in early. More blood and drool dripped down onto the floor and Nanami gave his head a harsh tug for him to listen. 

“I want you to remember this. In your very last moments, the men who you thought swore their loyalties to you, the ones who you’ve been working with for decades upon decades, all ran away like rats and left you here to rot. You will die forgotten, and I think that’s quite fitting since I just can’t bother to remember your name.” 

He released his hair and his face fell back into the concrete once again. 

“Aren’t you afraid they might come back?” You asked Gojo as you rushed down the stairs to meet Nanami. 

“Pfft, no,” Gojo snorted. “We’re at the top. Like Ken said, let this be a lesson to all of them.” 

It’s a very different sentiment from the Nanami you knew intimately. He never ran out of patience with you; he had endless pools of it. When you reached ground level you practically threw yourself in his arms. He caught you with ease, cupping the back of your head into his chest. Under the heavy smell of blood his familiar scent filled your nose and you took deep breaths of it to calm down. You didn’t realize how fast your heart was thumping until you felt it against Nanami’s ribs. 

“Me next!” Gojo opened his arms and hugged the both of you, making you giggle. “You really do pay attention to everything I do, Ken. Is that why I dreamed of you last night?”

“What are you dreaming about with my husband?”

“Absolutely nothi–” 

“I don’t want to make you jealous,” Gojo interrupted, nuzzling his chin into the top of your head and Nanami swatted him away. “I’ll have somebody clean up the mess.” 

“Good,” Nanami muttered. When Gojo released the two of you, you fretted over Nanami’s hands. His knuckles that were covered with the tie were less raw than the one without, but they were both an angry shade of red. 

“God, Ken, I just came so that we can enjoy this new bakery I found on the way back home and then this happens,” you frowned. 

Nanami gave a small smile and kissed the top of your head. “I’m fine.” 

“That’s what you always say! That’s why I have to worry for the both of us.”

Gojo tutted in agreement. “Go to the bar and check to see if Shoko’s there. It’s technically after hours but she might be lingering around. And you look like you need a drink anyways.” 

Nanami nodded and his hand wrapped around your waist before you could move, walking with you to the car that was prepared for the short drive. You winked at the driver once you sat down inside, then tucked yourself right next to Nanami. 

When you arrived at the bar, Choso notified you that you had just missed Shoko and you sighed. He saw the weariness in your eyes led you to a room down a hallway in the back. 

“I’ll come back with a drink for Nanami. I’m assuming you’d want something strong, right?”

“Yes, thank you,” Nanami sighed, putting his jacket down on the chair near the bed. It was a sparse room with a queen sized bed, two nightstands, and a small clothed chair. A closed door in the corner that you assumed was the closet next to an open door that led to a bathroom and no windows could be found. When Choso started speaking again you turned to face him. 

“Anything for you?” Choso asked you and you shook your head. 

“No, no drinks for me.” 

“I’ll be back soon,” he nodded and you rubbed his shoulder appreciatively. He closed the door behind him and you locked it when he let go of the handle. 

You rested your back against the door and looked at Nanami who was sitting at the edge of the bed. 

“Come here,” he mumbled , and you pushed yourself off to walk into his open arms. They wrapped around you tightly and you combed his hair back. You didn’t say anything to him. You didn’t need to. Nanami did this all the time, silently recharging himself through physical touch and you were happy to help. You gently massaged his scalp with your fingernails until you heard soft rapping on the door again. Nanami grumbled something that you didn’t catch fully but you couldn’t help laughing. 

“You did ask for a drink,” you reminded, and sure enough when you opened the door Choso had an amber drink in a crystal glass ready for you on a platter. He also brought a whole bottle for Nanami. 

“Thanks Choso,” you smiled, and he gave you a small nod.

“Stay as long as you need,” he told you, then waved at Nanami who returned the gesture after he removed his dress shirt.

You locked the door for the last time, putting the drinks on the side table and going to the bathroom to get a washcloth for cleaning. When you stood in front of him again, his legs bracketing around yours, you started to wipe away the hand that he wasn’t using to down his drink. His knuckles weren’t as bad as you had initially thought as you cleaned them. The dried blood proved to be the other man's, the clearer Nanami’s skin became. There was only slight redness from irritation. You kissed the knuckles you cleaned individually.

The fight from earlier replayed in your head, making you slow down. His show of precision, his power, his steadiness were all insanely attractive and you felt yourself suddenly getting shy. Nanami felt the change too and asked what was wrong. 

“I think there’s something wrong with me,” you let out a breathy chuckle heavy with arousal and patted his shoulders. His hand rested on your waist, gently trying to calm you down and he looked up at you adoringly. 

“What makes you say that?”

You stared at his open collarbone, the pale skin underneath rising and falling with each breath he took, trying to keep your breath steady but failed when you looked into his eyes. If you had to choose a favorite feature of Nanami’s face, you would always choose his eyes. They were the warmest shade of brown that you have ever known, just deep pools of unyielding love for you and everything you have ever done. Right now they were slightly pained, not because of the fight that happened but because he wanted to know what’s on your mind and you were stalling. He was afraid that he might’ve scared you earlier. He hated to lose his temper in front of the only person he swore to never raise his voice at. Even though his anger wasn’t directed towards you at all it still bothered him. 

You, on the other hand, had a completely different concern, one that was caused from the heat pooling lower in your nether regions. You trailed your gaze down further, inspecting his nose that you remembered got bashed. Nanami was complacent, moving like putty in your hands and craned his neck in any position you needed. There was no swelling or bruising forming, which you were grateful for. You got to admire him quietly in the process and a ghost of a smile danced on your lips. Your husband was so damn beautiful.

“I don’t think it’s broken,” he muttered. 

“No,” you agreed. “It probably isn’t. We’ll have Shoko look at it later though. Just in case.”

“He truly took me by surprise.” 

“I know, baby, I know. I’m just glad he can no longer hurt you” you crooned. You must have had his head leaning down for too long, or pressed him too hard, as a drop of blood dripped from his nose to the undershirt. The scarlet stain looked neon against the white fabric and it was the only blood mark on his clothes that was his. The rest of the splatter was from the bastard who found the wrong person to annoy on the right day. You looked up at his face once again and Nanami also noticed the stain, bringing his hand up to wipe the rivulet off from under his nose but you stopped him from doing that by leaning down for a kiss. You quickly moved your lips against his, taking his top lip in between yours and the metallic taste of iron filled your mouth. Nanami moaned quietly, taken by surprise by your action but tightened his hold on your hip to steady you, his other hand propping himself up behind him as you leaned in further, getting more of your fill and pushing him into the bed. 

You straddle your legs around his waist, clutching his collar and running your tongue in his mouth. Your head was getting lightheaded from the lack of oxygen. When you finally came up to breathe you pulled back, groaning at the sight of Nanami even more disheveled and his blood smeared over his top lip. You finally remembered yourself, then grabbed the towel that had fallen into the sheet and finally wiped it off of his face. 

“I’m sorry. I just… like I said, I think there’s something wrong with me. I was worried about you the whole time, of course I was, but more than anything else I wanted to drag you into bed. You should be resting,” you rushed out, shame creeping up your neck. You began to crawl off of Nanami, one leg already on the floor but he stopped your departure and your eyebrows shot up in surprise. 

“You got me right where you wanted me and now you’re leaving? You’re always such a tease,” he muttered inside your wrist and you were sure that he could taste your heartbeat pounding beneath the skin. 

Your voice stuck to your throat when you tried to speak out. “Ken…”

“Mmm, don’t “Ken” me,” he smiled. His fingertips danced up your thigh, slipping underneath your dress and hiking it farther up. He brushed your dampening crotch and your breath hitched. 

“You’re the one who likes to see me bloody and breathing heavy, right?”

“It’s not a bad look,” you squeaked. His hand pushed past your waistband and circled your clit until you grasped the back of his hair. Nanami’s hands were going to drive you out of your own mind and he knew it.

“And what else did you like?” He gathered the wetness from your entrance, rubbing your clit more intently. You were soaking and only getting wetter. He didn’t tease you so much that you could not answer but it would not be without stuttering. You looked down at him, his face smushed to your chest with those pretty brown eyes of his blinking at you, waiting for your response. 

“You know I’ve always been a fan of your ha -hands.”

Such strong yet gentle hands. Big enough to cover large portions of your body but always delicate towards you. His hands were perfect. 

He smirked at you, now using two fingers to fuck you. They stroked and curled in the spongey spot deep inside and you started to grind your hips into his hand, unable to help yourself.  “Yes, I think I’m aware.” 

“And your voice, baby. You only yelled at him once but I heard you the entire time,” you panted.

“But you know that I would never do that to you? I would never act like that to you.” His eyebrows were scrunched up at you, begging for you to understand and his face was your undoing. His fingers never stopped moving, curling inside to stroke you just right. 

“I know, Kento. It’s just the fact that you can do that. N-not to me but– fuck, faster please. Just a little more.” You raised his chin up to mesh your lips on his, whimpering into the kiss as he gave you exactly what you wanted. His fingers quickly drew out an orgasm from you, one that released only some of the tension that had been building up in you for the past hour. Your pussy drenched his fingers with your release and you hid your face in Nanami’s shoulder. Kento eased more tremors out of your body and your teeth sunk into his shoulder. He wished you didn’t always try to hide your face when you came. He knew that now it was because you two weren’t in the comfort of your own home and wanted to be quiet, but Nanami loved to see your mouth pop open and a watch a silent scream fall out, or his personal favorite, when you murmured his name over and over again like it was the only word in the world, pleading and thanking him all at once, but that meant that he would have to keep going until he got the reaction that he wanted. 

Nanami removed his hand and sucked them clean while you caught your breath. You watched him from the corner of your eyes as you rested on his shoulder and gave a breathless giggle. 

“You made me come and I didn’t even take off my clothes.” 

You lifted your head off and peered at your husband. 

“I can still make you come without your clothes. I actually plan on doing that multiple times.” 

You stood up and walked slowly away from him, pulling at the knot on your dress and hummed. “Kento, I want to do you first. I've wanted to jump your bones since we got in the car.” Your dress unraveled and Nanami’s cock strained in his pants. A sheer balconette bra welcomed him, along with matching sheer panties that matched the color of your dress. The swell of your breasts and nipples were apparent through the bra, poking through the fabric and his jaw twitched. He didn’t know if he wanted to tear clothes off of your body or fuck you in the set. You obviously took the time to get dressed for him, your eyes searching for response as you did a slow turn. You let the dress hang off your arms when your back was faced to him, then reveal the curves of your body when you dropped it on the floor. 

Nanami took a dry swallow.

A sly smile formed on your lips when you walked back to him. While placing your hands on his thighs, you locked eyes with your husband and slowly sank to your knees, your gaze unwavering when you started to undo his belt. 

You could see how hard he was through his pants and it made your sex pulse. Once you finally freed him from his constraints, you palmed him slowly and placed a sultry kiss on the head of his cock. Nanami widened his legs for you to nestle in between, then placed his hand on your face, stroking the apple of your cheek softly. 

“You’re gonna be the death of me,” he groaned. “Are you sure your knees aren’t hurting?” He asked but he already fixed a pillow for you to stand on. Once you repositioned yourself, you decorated his cock with more kisses on the way to the base, then flattened your tongue heavy with saliva, taking a slow, long stripe up to the head and swallowed as much as you could. It was no easy feat. If you were to ask Nanami he would tell you that he is an average size, nothing special, but your jaw ached from taking him in. 

Nanami thrusted his hips shallowly into your mouth, the warmth of your tongue making it hard for him to restrain himself, and you matched his rhythm. The rest of him that couldn’t fit in your mouth was covered by your fingers, wrapping around the shaft and twisting it with your spit. When he reached the back of your throat you moaned around him, the vibrations making him throw his head back. His chest heaved rapidly when he looked back down at you, his eyes full of lust and desire. 

“You let me do anything to this pretty mouth of yours,” he rasped. Your mouth made a crisp pop when you took your lips off of him, and his thumb immediately went to outline your lips, glossy with his precum and your saliva. You teased the slit of his cock with your own thumb, clenching your legs together at the sharp hissing sounds he made. 

“You never do anything I’d say no to,” you said, putting him back in your mouth and he cursed under his breath. Even with the orgasm you had a few minutes ago the heat was building up inside of you again. Your panties were soaked, you could feel your arousal dripping down your thighs. Like everything else on your body, your mouth was sensitive, and the noises Nanami was making only spurred you on. 

“I’m going to come,” Nanami said as a warning. His jaw was tight, rolling over when you batted your lashes up at him and continued to take him further down your throat. The heat of your mouth and your tongue moving against him brought him closer to the peak. It was clear that you had no intentions of letting him go early, so when he felt like he was finally nearing the end he begged you to look at him. 

“Gorgeous,” he murmured. “You take me so well.”

To avoid letting him see the blood rushing to your face, you attempted to brush your nose to his happy trail, taking him as far as you could. He came with soft moans escaping his mouth and his thighs jerked up slightly. You rubbed them down, looking back up at him to see his eyes washed with pleasure. With a stare dunk in lust, he dragged you up and on top of him again, slowly maneuvering into the center of the bed while his lips overtook yours. It was a sloppy kiss, and he could taste himself on your tongue but there was still the taste of you so he wanted more. You reached down below, rubbing his cock head on your clit after moving your panties to the side. Neither of you could be bothered to take them off properly and he bit your bottom lip in response. 

“I think I want to hear you beg,” you murmured along his jaw. “You’ve been awfully calm this whole time and it’s not fair.” 

Nanami let out a strained noise. “We have very different understandings of what ‘calm’ is.”

He thought that he was barely holding it together. His hands feverishly ran over your body, starting with your breasts, then the back of your thighs before gripping your ass. You continued to tease him, only allowing the tip to enter before taking it out repeatedly. Labored breaths made his chest heave and he looked up at you with those beautiful eyes again. 

“Please, honey. You said you wanted to have me since getting in the car right?”

Your hand cupped the base of his neck, squeezing slightly and you nodded. 

“Yes, that’s right.” 

“There’s no need to wait anymore.” 

He planted a kiss right in the middle of your chest. His hands were now on your waist, warming up your sides. 

“I want to feel you. I’m all yours now so fuck me.” 

The end of his sentence had curled into a growl. It was more of a demand than a plea. His hands were back on your hips, not so subtly trying to get you to sit down. The edge of his teeth wrapped around your nipple and you settled down on the base of his shaft. You both moaned when he bottomed out. 

Nanami tugged on your nipple before lapping it with his tongue. He was deep seated in your warmth but trying to be mindful before taking over. You were adjusting to him, grinding softly on him to stretch yourself out. 

“You were made for me, Kento,” you groaned. You opened your eyes that were previously squeezed shut and rolled your hips into his. Nanami unlatched his mouth from his nipple and looked up at you in awe. Yes he was made for you. He was yours to use and wasn’t afraid to let you know that. Your eyes screwed shut again when you slowly lifted up to come back down on him, his length scraping your insides.

“All for you. I need you to look at me,” he begged. You came down on him harder, the sounds of your coupling filling the room, and the bed began to groan wearily underneath. You picked up the speed and opened your eyes per his request. His were wide and unwavering, watching you closely to match your rhythm, and his skin was warm with blush. His fingernails dug into and bit the plush of your hips. You leaned in to touch your forehead on his, gazing deep at your husband, sharing his breaths. With the hand that wasn’t on his neck you combed it up the back of his nape and tugged his hair down, tipping his face up and ghosted your lips over his mouth. 

“Fuck me harder,” you dragged out. “Make me cum.” 

The burn in your thighs were proof of your hard work but you needed more of him. Pressing chest to chest and lips to lips was not enough. Nanami’s thumb reached the slippery mess where you were joined to him to circle your clit and he swallowed the moans that ensued. He pistoned up into your pussy, responding to your order. His teeth grazed on any open skin to him. Nanami felt the sex drunkenness seep into his veins. It filled his head with only you, the best way to get you to curl and stretch with pleasure. You only urged him along, nipping the lobes of his ear to mutter more obscenities that made his body crave you. 

“Just like that Kento. I’m almost right there, can you feel it? I want you to fuck me good, Kenny. I want you dripping out of me. Can you do that for me, baby? Harder , Kento, I need— fuck. ”

You knew the reaction you were looking for with your words. It did not surprise you when your back was on the bedding and you were pressed into the mattress. Everything was white hot. You clawed him closer, but being ever the gentleman, Nanami slipped out of you and with a desperate whimper you felt the cool air slip between your bodies. Grabbing another pillow he adjusted some below you in a quick manner and his hands returned to your waist. 

His gaze on you kept your body sizzling, his cock head parting the seam of your sex and a shudder ran through you. Your pussy clenched around nothing, aching. 

“ Please ,” you whined. You raised your hips up to usher him inside and he did, welcoming your warmth and sighing into it. Tilting your head up for a kiss, your tongue ran in his mouth and you tried to clasp your legs around him. You were unable to as he started to pick up speed, fucking you deep until he reached the end of you, his pelvis brushing your clit and causing moans to tumble into his mouth. 

“So soft,” he murmured, lacing his fingers through your hands and bringing it to the top of your head on the pillow. “You remind me how to be soft.” 

“Kento,” you moaned. With your hands pinned above your head you felt more exposed, even though his body covered yours entirely. You could feel every muscle of his ripple above you. He never sacrificed speed over power, driving you out of your mind. 

The noises you were making in his ear, your tongue tasting his skin, the way that you dragged him in deeper, begging for him to stay inside and fill you up made his need for you from a scorching flames threatening to engulf you both. 

In a strangled moan he fucked you harder. The bed creaked dangerously, the headboard banging on the wall and all previous cautions of keeping quiet were forgotten. Nanami released your hands, instead cupping his palms to the back of your knees and flattened you into the bed. With every thrust he lost a little bit of himself in you, giving himself to you just like you asked, kissing you so hard your lips bruised and your head spun. It was like he was trying to apologize for his nature and you couldn’t get it through to him that you didn’t care. There was nothing that Nanami could do that would ever push you away from him, so you tried to show him the depths of your love in any way you could.

“I want us to come together,” he said, his own voice betraying him by cracking at the end. You opened your tear stained eyes, holding your husband’s gaze. 

Your eyebrows pinched together and you tried to follow his request but it was hard when he was so deep inside of you, causing all your muscles to pull taut like a wire. 

“Kento,” you murmured, your vision getting wavy around your peripheral but his eyes remained as clear as ever. You didn’t need to say anything more than that. He understood that you were reaching your limit and he could barely hold on himself. 

“Kento,” you said again, and a faint smile danced on his lips. It was happening, the favorite part of sex with you. Your eyes gazed down to where you two were joined, watching him disappear inside of you and another strangled approximation of his name left your mouth again. The spring in your stomach coiled tighter and tighter, getting ready to burst as Kento changed to languid strokes that unraveled you perfectly. Time slowed down and every touch and sound the both of you were making was magnified tenfold. 

You didn’t even realize when you had shattered once again. It happened so quickly, like lightning striking down on you but the aftershocks lingered. Your face was wet with tears and his lips were quick to catch them as he came down his own high. 

You heard a voice, a tired and hoarse one you quickly realized that was your own, still repeating the syllables that made up his name. Kento held himself over you, trying to catch his breath. He gently unfolded your body, taking note of any sounds you made that might indicate pain. 

“Don’t go,” you grumbled. You could feel the mess you both made in the sheets. The slight movements Kento made still inside of you only pushed out his come. 

“I need to clean you up. We need to do something about the bed too.”

“God, don’t remind me.”

Nanami stamped a kiss on your forehead, then two, then three. 

“I’m positive that we made enough noise for Choso to hear.” 

“You’re the worst. Just horrid.”

You could hear him grinning while you covered your face in your hands. Nanami carefully pried your hands apart. Another kiss between your eyebrows was placed. 

“I was made just for you so that makes two of us,” he laughed. The embarrassment still burned your face yet you couldn’t help but to laugh with him. 

“I love that sound,” he said fondly. Nanami’s nose rubbed against yours and your laughter fizzled into nervous giggles. “I love you.”

You cupped his face, his ears slotting between your fingers and traced his bottom lip with your top lip. 

“I love you,” you breathed.

Nanami never left between your legs, partly because you told him not to, partly because he didn’t want to just yet. Whatever the reason was, you could feel him hardening again inside, immediately reciprocating your mounting arousal. 

You took his mouth, deepening it as soon as he welcomed your tongue. With the strength you had left in your body you pulled him down on top of your, welcoming the heavy pressure. You drifted further into the bed, showing your love to each other over and over again.

[detectivestucks]

The Anbu Captain XIII

18+ content, Minors do NOT interact

Pairing: Kakashi x F!Reader

Summery: Akio reevaluates his situation with you causing you and Kakashi to have an argument. Lord Hiruzen summons him giving him unexpected news.

Warnings: NSFW, biting, nipple play, anal play, butt plug, collar kink, unprotected penetration.

Word Count: 6.2k

Art Credit: @akirasukuna

Part 12 New here? Check out Part 1

“Lord Third, I beg you! Kakashi is not suited for the Anbu anymore.” Gai bows before Hiruzen honoring him while he pleads for his best friend.

“Is that so?” The wise Hokage tips his head to the side while the end of his pipe rests between his lips.

“Please, he was so close to being pulled from the darkness.”

“Whatever do you mean, Gai?”

“Lord Hiruzen, surely you know. There is a young woman, he loves her but because of the darkness the Anbu must live in, he let her go. He needs her, Lord Third.” in dramatic fashion, Gai’s eyes leak tears over your lost relationship. When he heard, he was heartbroken.

“When exactly did this happen?”

“Five weeks ago, Sir”

Lord Hiruzen presses his lips together in a firm line. It was as he thought. “Thank you for your concern Gai.”

“But Lord Third!-”

Gai’s objection was cut off by a stern look from the old man before he faced defeat and turned to leave, fearing he had not done justice by his best friend and rival.

****************************************************

You sit in your office Monday morning, excited for the day and to see Akio after your magical date over the weekend. You felt at peace after all that misery. Finally, you could breathe and feel a semblance of normality. Only, Akio doesn’t make his morning trip to your office. It’s no matter. A bit strange but you don’t feel fazed. You decide to take an early lunch and run to the cafe down the street, buying two coffees. You hurry back to headquarters and this time knock on Akio’s open office door. 

“Hey babe!” 

The words felt strange on your lips but what else did you expect from a new relationship? Akio keeps his eyes trained down on his desk. You would’ve thought he was ignoring you except the rest of him froze when he heard your voice.

“Akio?”

You walk towards his desk, setting the coffees down and grabbing his jaw, tilting his head up to face you. An audible gasp leaves your lips as you look upon his face. A swirling vortex of purple, yellow, and blue bruising covers his eyelids and the bridge of his nose, a tell tale sign it had been broken.

“Wh-what happened?!”

“What do you think happened?” He grumbled with spite in his voice. You were hurt and thrown off guard. The current mood between you was a far cry from where you left off this weekend.

“What do you mean?”

“When were you going to tell me that your ex boyfriend is Cold Blooded Kakashi?”

Your eyes widen in horror. No.

“Don’t call him that.” you whisper, still shell shocked by Kakashi’s actions but feeling the need to defend him nonetheless. So many emotions were flowing through you at this moment. Anger towards Kakashi for interfering with your happiness, excitement that he still cares, reassurance that the breakup was hard on him too, despair at the thought of him ruining your budding relationship. Then the sound of Akio’s voice pulls you out of your fog. 

“Answer me Y/N. When were you going to warn me that your ex is the most dangerous man in the village?”

You were surprised by the harshness of his voice. “I… I assumed you already knew” you admit sheepishly. 

“And you didn’t think that it was important to verify that I knew what I was getting into?!”

“What does that mean?!”

“It means a little warning would’ve been nice before I got jumped leaving your house!”

“How was I supposed to know he’d go and do this?! He broke up with me!” your voice starts to rise as you throw a small tantrum. “And forgive me for assuming you knew but I accidentally became a minor celebrity because of my relationship with him! I couldn’t step out of the house without being quizzed about being the Copy Ninja’s girlfriend! Seeing as we are colleagues and friends I assumed you were aware of the idle gossip surrounding my dating life. I mean come on! You only asked me out again because you heard from someone that I was single!”

You were mad. But truthfully, not at him. Though it sure felt like it at that moment. You huff frustrated at him. After a few heavy breaths fill the silence between you two, you lower your chin and ask him in a small whisper,

“So where does this leave us?”

Akio turns his head to the side, unable to look you in the eye. “I like you, a lot… but no relationship is worth compromising my safety. I’m sorry but I don’t want to continue seeing you.”

You feel the tears well in your lash line. You don’t even say a word before turning on your heel and leaving. 

The coffees are left forgotten on his desk as you rush back to the comfort of your office. Your face once more buried in the scrolls as tears drip off the tip of your nose in a vain attempt to distract yourself. Akio’s rejection stinging you, tearing open the fresh wound of your failed relationship with Kakashi. Alone once more…

****************************************************

You are at home cooking when you feel it. Eyes are watching you. You put down your knife and go write on a piece of paper. You pick it up and silently tape it to your window 

I know you’re watching me. If you have something to say come inside and talk

You go back to chopping when you see Kakashi skillfully crawl through the window.

“What do you want, Kakashi?” You try to say it coldly but it doesn’t quite come out right. The hurt in your voice is still very apparent. 

“You were disloyal.”

“Dis-disloyal?! Are you kidding me?! We’re not dating!” you feel the anger rip through you. Your well of emotions overflowing from the mix of disappointment, abandonment, anger, and hurt. “You left me! You broke up with me! There is no relationship to have loyalty towards!”

“You are forbidden from seeing any men.” 

He states it so matter of factly, it knocks you off your feet.

“I’m what?!” You ask incredulously. “If you care so much about me dating anyone else then why don’t you just admit that you want to be together?!” You feel the tears gather on your waterline for a second time today.

“I don’t want to get back together.” 

Liar. Why else would you care?

“So let me get this straight!” Your voice starts to escalate and you begin to shout at him, “You refuse to be with me but I’m not allowed to attempt to move on and be with anyone else?!”

Kakashi, stern with his answer, responds “Yes”

“So no matter what I do, I end up alone.” You huff, folding your arms and looking at the ceiling in one last vain attempt to try and hold back your tears. You lick your teeth, trying to gain your composure. “You went ahead and decided that I have to be alone. For the rest of my life, alone.” You can’t hold it back anymore, tears freely pour down your cheeks, your hands becoming animated as you speak. “You know what, Kakashi, I never asked for this. Any of it. All I did was trip in front of you! You’re the one who pursued me. You’re the one who followed me. You’re the one who spied on me!” 

His face was severe. Your eyes desperately searched it but you couldn’t see an ounce of remorse for his actions. He was colder than the day you met him. The man you loved nowhere in sight. He turned around and left you there, a weeping mess, even more broken than last time.

All traces of his presence were gone. Even his scent had vanished. It felt as fresh as the day he left you. You dropped the knife in your hand as you fell to the floor, pulling your knees into your chest as you drop your forehead down on them, crying into your lap. Tears spill from your cheeks onto your legs, soaking your sweatpants. Your shoulders bobbing up and down as you cried. Your arms self-soothingly hug around your legs.

“Are you okay Y/N?” You hear Pakkun’s deep voice suddenly by your ankle.

“No” you sniffle. “It’s like he never cared. Why did he make me think he ever cared?” Your voice broke at the end. More tears streaming down your face.

“Cause he does care. He’s lost everyone he’s ever loved. It’s easier to push people away than to risk losing one more person.”

You sniffle looking up at Pakkun.

He walks over, bunting his head against your side. You stretch out your hand to scratch behind his ear. His tail involuntarily wags. 

“You know, for a fearsome ninja hound, you sure seem to enjoy being domesticated.” you say in a broken voice.

“Lets keep that between you and me.” He says.

You let out a small giggle. Pakkun sits down next to you, sticking by your side. You felt a small amount of comfort having him next to you again. You really missed him.

Eventually you feel your puffy eyes grow tired and decide to get ready for bed. You put on shorts and a baggy shirt.

“You changed your pajamas.”

“It was too hard to sleep in my old pajamas after…you know.”

A whine left Pakkun before he jumped up on the bed. You slip between the sheets and turn on your side, curling up into a ball. Pakkun makes himself at home on your pillow up by your head. He curls up against your hair, his heat and rhythmic breathing lulling you to sleep. You loved him for checking in on you. You wished he had done it sooner but his timing couldn’t have been better.

****************************************************

Day breaks and you are off to work, letting Pakkun out of your home after breakfast just like old times. You bend down before parting ways and scratch his ears. 

“Thank you Pakkun, thank you for being there for me. Please don’t be a stranger.”

He gives you a smile, “I could never view you as a stranger, miss. I’ll see you around.”

Your heart feels empty as he disappears in a cloud of smoke. Was he summoned or did he just go back to the pack? You would never know.

However Pakkun appears in front of Kakashi as the symbols on the ground fade away where he had pressed his palm into the dirt. Immediately Kakashi catches a whiff of your scent.

“It seems your loyalty has changed”

“Kakashi, I know you still care for her. Drop the tough guy act.”

Kakashi glared daggers into Pakkun.

“She’s a nice girl, certainly my favorite human, and an excellent cook.” He says as he tauntingly saunters past Kakashi, “I lived with her for 6 months, under your instructions, and from everything I’ve seen, she loves you, even now.”

“Yet the minute I call it quits she goes back to Akio”

“Cause she’s heartbroken.”

“Cause she can’t be trusted.”

“Don’t be like that Kakashi. Don’t go back to how you were. You deserve to be happy. She makes you happy. Why fight your feelings?”

“Because-”

“Umm, excuse me Mr. Hatake,” a young genin appears before the man and his hound, bowing and red from interrupting the argument, “Lord Hokage has requested your presence, Sir.”

Kakashi purses his lips, “Thank you” he nods at the boy before turning his attention back on Pakkun, “We’ll finish this later.” 

He said it with venom, furious that his trusted friend and ally would choose you over him. But for now he had his duty to attend to. He dons his mask and launches over the rooftops, hastily making his way towards headquarters. 

“Lord Third, you wanted to see me Sir?” He says with a slight bow, sinking down to his knee.

“Yes, Kakashi. I’ve been doing some thinking.” Kakashi’s interest was piqued. Usually those words were followed by acts of war or an extremely dangerous mission. He would love the distraction of a deadly mission right now. Anything to keep his mind off of the memory of your crying face.

“How many years have you served in the Anbu so far?”

“About ten years.”

“Please remove your mask.” Kakashi obliges, his sharp eyes peering up at Lord Hiruzen as he continues. “Ten years you say? Perhaps I have asked too much of you.”

“Sir?”

“You are to become a Jonin Leader.”

“What?”

“Go exchange your uniform. You are dismissed.”

Kakashi finds himself at the quartermaster handing over his well worn but equally well kept uniform. The one he was issued as a child and slowly traded in as he grew into a man. The steely gray of his armor swapped out for a dark green vest. The same kind of vest worn by his classmates. 

He ran his fingers over the stitching, the feeling foreign to him. Slowly he started to realize the S rank missions would be replaced with D and C rank missions. He would be spending most of his days in the village, training kids, instead of visiting other lands. He had years before he would be away from the village on long missions with his team. He threaded his arms through the vest and allowed it to rest on his shoulders. He zipped up the front and lifted his face to stare at himself in the mirror. As his reflection gazed back at him, his mind began to clear. His thoughts snapped into place.

****************************************************

That evening you peel yourself off of the couch to head to the kitchen and make some tea when you hear a knock at your front door. You pivot towards it, reaching for the nob and twisting it open to reveal Kakashi filling the doorframe. He stares down at you, noting your red and puffy eyes. He felt his stomach twist seeing the evidence of how much he hurt you. Your jaw falls open while you stumble over your thoughts. You whisper to him,

“Wh-what are you wearing?” 

You scan up and down his body. He was dressed as a regular jonin, trading in his signature gray armor for a forest green vest. 

“May I come inside?”

You silently nod, stepping aside for him to move past you, eyes following him before turning to latch the door. 

“I’m making tea, you want some?”

He nods, “yes please.” 

You wait for the kettle to sing while standing in complete silence. Your mind runs wild. Once the kettle’s tune is heard, you pour the water into two clay mugs and turn towards the table to let the leaves steep while you take your seat. When you look up however you see a brown mole under Kakashi’s lip. Both cups clatter on the floor, their structure shattering, fractals dispersed throughout the kitchen. 

“Your…face.”

Kakashi jumped up to clean up your mess. “Y/N, I’m so sorry I scared you! Are you hurt?”

Luckily the boiling water missed you. You stoop down to clean up the mess but you are unable to tear your eyes away from his lips and chin. He is showing you his face…

He sees how robotic your movements are and stills his efforts. 

“Maybe we can finish picking this up later. “

You nod and walk over to the couch together, your eyes locked on him. You both take a seat on the couch together, bodies angled towards each other. 

“I’m sorry, Y/N.”

You silently stare at him but he can see the wheels turning in your head. 

“I’m so sorry, I should’ve never- I couldn’t-“ he stops and takes a soothing breath, “Lord Hiruzen summoned me and-“

Your face breaks. Tears leak out of your eyes followed by you crumbling in his arms, spiraling into a full on sob, cutting off the rest of his sentence. Your fists clutch his black sleeves. 

“Captain…” you choke between cries.

You already know what he’s about to say, he doesn’t need to finish. He pulls you into his lap, stroking your hair. He lifts your chin towards his face, pressing a firm kiss against your lips, saying everything that he can’t put into words with a purse of his soft mouth. He pulled you closer before he gently coos in your ear, 

“I won’t make you be alone anymore. I’m where I belong.” He kisses your cheek before leaning his forehead against yours, looking at you through his lashes, “I’m here Y/N…to stay.”

You look up at him with watery doe eyes, unsure of what to say. 

He scoops you up and carries you bridal style to your bed. He sets you down delicately, crawling on the bed to press feather light kisses on your neck. He takes his time, slowly and carefully placing each mark on your sensitive skin. Your eyes close and your breathing becomes shallow. He traces his fingers down your arm before intertwining his hand in yours. His other hand cradles the back of your head pulling you up into him. 

He kisses you meaningfully, there is so much said as he lightly sucks on your bottom lip. The love that he felt for you had never been more clear. You were his home. As he slipped his tongue to dance with your own, you let it be known that he is your home too. It was as if the world stopped spinning on its axis, everything went still around you. Time itself ceased in that moment as you reacquainted yourself with him. You pull your head back slightly, allowing the string of spit to stretch between your lips as you panted his favorite sentence. 

“I love you, Kakashi”

“I love you, Y/N. Now and always”

You pressed your foreheads together before smiling, allowing your breathing to sync. You brought your free hand up to the base of his head, fingers lightly playing with the short strands of hair on the back of his head while your thumb strokes Kakashi’s knuckle in your other hand. You take a moment, focusing on each other, feeling your rhythms align, soaking in the warmth of each other’s bodies before kakashi moves his hands, gliding them from your shoulders, down your ribs and curled his fingers under your shirt, gently tugging up the fabric, lifting your shirt over your head. 

You unzip and pull off his Jonin vest before sliding his black undershirt off his torso. He slowly and purposefully litters your chest and stomach with marks down to your waist band before he drags down both your underwear and sweatpants past your knees and off your ankles. His fingers push into the soles of your feet, gently massaging them before his mouth works its way back up the inside of your leg, kissing your inner thighs, tantalizingly sucking the skin just outside your heat.

He slowly makes his way over to your center, licking a stripe up your sex before focusing on your bundle of nerves. His tongue gently presses into your slit, hooking up towards the skin just below your clit. A soft moan spills from your lips, as you allow your eyes to flutter shut. He worships you, he adores you, his affection is expressed through his tongue. He takes his fingers and uses them to spread apart your lips, while his tongue dives in pushing deeper before hooking upwards again to suck at the skin at the front of your entrance. 

You feel your sensitivity increase and your legs slightly twitch. Your hands move to grab your breasts, kneading the fat with your fingers. His nose gently nudged your little nub as he pushed his tongue inside of you. The fingers he had wrapped around you sank in and groped you. Though his mouth was gentle, his passions started to show as his knuckles turned white from gripping you so tight. He licked up from between your folds and swirled his tongue around your clitoris, running it in a circle before closing his lips around it, and sucking gently. You arched your back and let out a light cry, feeling him stimulate you, seeing stars, as you tilt your head back into the pillow. The fingers that spread you open closed together and slip inside of you while his lips lock over your bundle of nerves. His two fingers drag in and out of you slowly. Pulling little moans out of your mouth while also pulling slick from your needy hole. His fingers worked inside of you, feeling how your squishy walls closed around him, attempting to push his digits deeper inside your cavern. 

Hand working in tandem with his mouth, Kakashi’s tongue flicked over your swollen bean. Your core tightened. You battled to keep your hips tilted up. Then your hands found their way into Kakashi’s hair, pushing him down as he feasted on your sweet spread. 

“Thank you Captain” you whisper, barely able to string the words together through the fog of your mind. He groans into your sex as you praise him, his hand bearing down on your flesh even harder. One of your hands leaves his mop to clutch at the pillow. You can feel your cream drip out of your slit from the magical motions of his fingers and pink muscle. Short breathy hah’s echo from your chest as you climaxed. 

Kakashi slid his fingers out of you and instead of feeding them to you, he stuck the digits in his mouth. His lips closed over the knuckle, eyes falling shut. He missed your taste. He believed he would never experience it again and now that he had you back, he cleared his mind to memorize it. Lapping up every note while he cleaned your mess off of his hand.

Your hands stretch up to his face, your fingers politely grabbing him to pull him down so you can kiss him and taste yourself on his lips. Kakashi acquiesces and leans down, he unties his pants as he lowers his shoulders. You push your chest up against his, needing to be close to him. Needing to share the same space as him. 

You feel his tip prod at your entrance. Your grip on him tightening when you do. Moans escape your mouth while you pull back from the kiss to breathe. Kakashi captures your lips right when he sinks into your slit. Your cream already forming a ring around his shaft as he buries himself inside of you. He stays still, feeling how your walls hug him as your kiss becomes sloppy, more needy, and heated. Kakashi pulls back and thrusts up with purposeful strokes. High pitched moans travel from your mouth into his with each movement of his hips. 

Remembering where you like it, he ran his tip into your spongy spot, the one that could only be reached by him deep inside of you. Your legs instinctually wrap around him, demanding him to do it again. His teeth catch your lip, tugging on it as he continues massaging just where you want him. Each stroke making you melt into the sheets. He pulls his head back, your lip slowly slipping from his bite, leaving it red and swollen. It was truly beautiful to look upon. 

“Does my good girl like that?”

“Yes, Captain” you breathe “Yes”

You rub the bottom of your foot along the back of his leg. Showing him affection and appreciation for how he pleasures you. Your eyes wander down to where your bodies connect, pupils dilating as you watch his v-line rock back and forth at your entrance. Your eyes pan up his body, watching the muscles adorning his stomach flex with each movement. Each rut inside of you, lightly pushing you up into the headboard of your bed. Though his pace was slow, it did the trick. 

This body worshiping session was far from his usual way with you but you knew what it was. It was his apology for pushing you away. It was him remembering how much he loved you. It was him reconnecting with you and asking you to let him stay. He is the love of your life and the flame lit inside your chest burns only for him. 

That thought makes you grip him tighter between your thighs. He feels the added pressure and it spurs him on just slightly. His pace quickening to a gentle gallop, watching your plush tits sway beneath his chest. Kakashi lowers his face to nip at your neck and lick a stripe up your jaw. 

An involuntary groan falls out of you and that’s when he punctuates each time he fully penetrates you up to the hilt. He pushes the bottom of your cervix up to your diaphragm with a sharp roll of his hips, knocking the wind out of you even at his slowed pace. 

Your eyes have a pleading look to them. You wanted him to help you finish. He kisses your forehead, assuring you that he would. His eyes intensely bore into yours, drinking up your pleasured expression as he pounded into you. Pausing slightly after each thrust to feel you constrict around him.

His dick twitched inside of you. The power of the emotions he felt for you in this moment pull him to the brink of orgasm. He sped up his pace ever so slightly to finish the job, your high hits at the exact same moment. His was extra intense as your spasming walls clamped down around his sensitive leaking tip. He almost pulled out of you because it was too much but he willed himself to stay inside. He needed to deposit his load into you. He needed you to be full of him, marked by him, claimed as his. 

“Keep it in” he whispers to you before you could finish sitting up. So instead you pull him back down. You roll to your side, staring up at him before tucking your head into his chest and tangling your legs with his. He holds you close, arms encircling  your body. “I will never let go of you again. I promise.”

Epilogue 

“On your hands and knees Mrs. Hatake.”

You turn around, facing your hickey-strewn neck away from your new husband. He had intentionally left his favorite canvas blank the weeks leading up to the ceremony so he could absolutely ruin you on your wedding night. 

He licks his lips, sucking the iron from them. Proud of his artwork. The wait was worth it. You looked so beautiful in your wedding attire but now, now you looked perfect.

Fingers trail down pinching the snowy fabric. He lifts the hem of your white kimono above your hips. Kakashi’s heart pounds when it is revealed that you wore his favorite gem during your vows. The blush colored jewel peaks out from between your cheeks, welcoming him to his new normal. A breathy' I love you' leaves his lips as he kneels on the bed behind you, hands running light circles over the soft skin of your ass. 

You feel him rub his hardened length against your dripping folds as you lower your torso to the bed, stretching your arms above your head, resting your ear on the mattress, ready for him to enter. 

It was only fitting for the pack’s alpha to take you from behind as your first marital act. He slips into you with no preparation necessary. You had been waiting for this moment, wondering how he was going to be with you on such a momentous occasion. The anticipation kept you up the night before. 

You were anxious and excited. All the planning and coordination kept you stressed for months even though it was a small event, per Kakashi’s wishes. However you’d go through all that stress again if it meant reliving this day. It was perfect. Everything about it was perfect. 

Pakkun made the most adorable little ring bearer, trotting up the aisle with a pillow tied around his neck. Normally he would never carry himself in such an undignified way but he could never say no to you. At the reception Gai stood up and gave the most hilarious and emotional speech, pulling both tears of joy and laughter from your eyes. You had to stop him when the sake got him all worked up over their rivalry and he swore he would find a woman more beautiful than you if he could not beat Kakahsi in a foot race then and there. At the end of your vows Kakashi’s hounds howled towards the evening sky, welcoming you into the pack. And now this…

He slowly glides in and out of you, rolling his hips as he fully lubricates his shaft. He pauses each time he is fully buried in you, savoring how you squeeze around him, butterflies erupting in your core each time. Kakashi pulls a breath between his teeth,

“Fuuuuck Y/N, I can’t wait to fuck this pussy everyday for the rest of our lives.”

Kakashi lulls his head back in bliss, closing his eyes, indulging in the languid pace of his strokes. Your soft mewls ring in his ears. He loves the sound. Your perfect voice tickling his ear drums. 

He allows his fingers to grip you more harshly, stabilizing you as he builds up speed. Your favorite titillation is when the anal plug rubs against Kakashi’s thrusting length stimulating your sensitive spot so well. Ever since your first date, it was your favorite way to be with him. The fullness of the feeling, like you were stuffed to the brim. It was a filthy sensation. You were a depraved woman, fiending for the touch that only Kakashi could give you.

You rock your hips back against him with your arms outstretched. The flesh of your behind jiggled with each collision of your hips. A satisfying visual for a man who just vowed to spend the rest of his life with you. 

The pace of his hips picked up into a rapid series of strokes. He was humping you like a rabid dog, completely consumed by lust. It was as if he was seeing red. The only thing real to him was the sensation of your walls wrapped around his shaft. Closing down on him even tighter with the helpful pressure of your plug. 

“F-fuck Captain. You t-treat me so good.”

“That’s a good girl. Keep taking me. Take everything I give you.”

“Ye-es, sir-ir-ir”

He was pounding so hard you could hardly speak. The weight on his balls slammed into your puffy clit, stimulating it and probing you towards orgasm. It was coming quicker than usual. The evening’s attire somewhat exhorts you. You were fully aware of your disheveled shiromuku and Kakashi’s black robe barely hanging on his shoulders. His glistening abdominals exposed to the night air, beads of sweat beginning to form and roll down towards where you connect. His tip pushed against your uterus threatening to breed you. 

“F-fuck!” you cry into the bed. 

With a particularly punctuated series of strokes you snap, toppling over into your first orgasm of the night.

You sit back on your heels, pulling your forearms under you for support as you twitch and heave through your orgasm. Kakashi stills and rubs soothing circles on your back. He kisses your neck, drawing attention to the skin behind your ear. Placing his gentle lips where it was most sensitive. He slowly traces his hand down your spine, gliding his fingertips over your rumpled up hem and grasps around the rim of your gem. He playfully tugs at the jewel as you protest. 

“H-hey!”

“Sorry dear but to make this marriage legitimate I’ll need to consummate all of your holes”

You laugh. How could you say no? His words spoken in his husky voice are intoxicating. Your eyes roll back as you let yourself relax, body prepared for him to remove your plug. You feel the painfully good stretch as he removes the bulb, leaving behind your gaping hole, ready for insertion. 

Your vision clouded as he sunk his head between your cheeks, his manhood stuffing you full and stretching you out. You felt him push up into a secret special spot that turned your vision white. 

“H-haaah!”

“That’s it my love, cry out for me.”

“Oh my gods! Fu-fuuuuck!”

Kakashi lifted you by your shoulders so that he was stroking into your ass while you were standing on your knees. He undid the front of your kimono, letting it fall open and exposing your chest. His fingers eager to pinch your nipples. 

You reach your hands back, trying to push him off a little just so he wouldn’t go as deep but instead he overpowered you. Hands grabbing onto your mounds and pulling you into his chest. Forcing you to bounce off of his hips, with harsh, deep thrusts tunneling into your warm cavern. The more forceful his strokes, the harder his fingers bit down on your perky nubs, only rolling them when he switched up his pace to give you a moment of reprieve. Then he’d go back to pounding away, working you hard to break you in.

With one last greedy bruising grip of your tits, he pushes you back down onto all fours. He planted one foot while supporting the rest of his weight on his knee, anchoring himself, ready to hammer into you. You already knew what was about to come. You begin to chew on your lower lip as your eyebrows knit together in want. You feel your mouth water, drool threatening to spill out when he finally starts. 

You shriek. He was holding nothing back. He pounded away into your tight sphincter with reckless abandon. You grasp at the bedsheets looking for anything to support you as he throws his entire body weight behind his pelvis as it rails into your hole. You swear he is trying to break the bed. Your throat goes hoarse from your screams. Kakashi anchors you by your shoulders as your entire body shifts back and forth violently swaying from his pace. Soon only choked moans can spill out and you wouldn’t have it any other way. His heavy balls once again slapping into your swollen bean, intensifying the thrusts even more till you wail that you're gonna pee.

“Cum f’me, my love” he coos in your ear.

“Yes Captain!”

You unleash a spray all over the bed and between your thighs. Kakashi fucked you through it, animalistically driving into you. Sweat rolled down your temple from your hairline, the labors of the night wearing you down. 

Kakashi flipped you on your back, pulling out of your ass and pummeling back into your cunt. He quickly pumped into you, watching your eyes glaze over with lust as you stared up at him. His pupils blown wide, looking down on you, his adoring wife. The love of his life lay beneath him. Officially his...forever. 

He could not be happier. 

He watched as your tits rocked up and down with each stroke of his manhood, your nipples pink from his toying with them. He bent down to suckle at them while he crunched his abdominals, still stroking into you. You threw your hands into his hair, clutching at it till he raised his head. They then fell to his biceps. Your fucked out face painted with exhaustion.

You feel him twitching inside of you…finally, he was close. A mean smirk tugs on one side of his mouth and you know he’s coming for the grande finale. He brushes your bottom lip with this thumb before lowering his hand to grip around your neck. His other hand traced down your stomach to your clit where this thumb traced quick circles that matched the pace of his steadily racing hips. His toned abs twitched and flexed, his stokes losing their rhythm till at last he heavily groans, falling onto his hands, slowly milking himself with your walls. 

You quiver under him, holding onto him tightly. You feel his load seep out, fat globs of cum trickling down your taint and glossing over your puckered rear until you collapse, sprawled out on the bed, panting through your high. 

Kakashi gives you a deep kiss before stepping away. Your head cranes over to look at him rummage through your dresser drawer. He turns back to you clutching a familiar object.

You lift your head slightly so Kakashi can slip the leather around your neck, closing the fasten tight against it, while his fingers admire the heart shaped tag. 

Emotionally you had belonged to him for quite some time, but now, you belonged to him legally. He finds this thought erotic as he slips his finger through the small silver loop of your collar and he pulls your face up to his. The leather bites into the skin of your neck. He husks into the shell of your ear words that spike your veins with passion and make your eyes flutter closed with desire. 

“Ready my love? Cause I’m gonna fuck my wife till the sun comes up no matter how many times you beg me to stop.”

“Yes”

~Fin~

Masterlist

Author's Note: We made it! Thank you for joining me in this series. I hope the ending is everything your hearts desire :)

@decayedbong @aq520 @purplerose08 @kittyoverlordxx @narutoverse-write @aquatufana

[honeybeefae]

A Court of Wings & Fire: Chapter Four

Summary// Eris had control of everything in his life. The war was over, he was planning to take the Autumn throne, and nothing was left to surprise him…until he met you. A mating bond with an Illyrian was like a spit in his face and neither of you could understand why fate had put you together. You both swore off relations to each other, refusing to even be in the same court, but you should have known that fate is not to be tested.

(It's been a long time coming but chapter four is here! I think the bingos really helped my creativity blossom and spark this story back to life! I am so sorry for the long wait but I hope you all enjoy it!)

WARNINGS: This chapter does contain a slight illusion to SA towards the very end. It doesn't explicitly mention it but a reader could infer so just be cautious!

Chapter One / Chapter Two / Chapter Three / Chapter Five

The ceiling above your bed was starting to get all too familiar as you stared at it for the hundredth time this week. Sleep seemed to be evading you no matter what you did and so you had been left alone with you, your thoughts, and the ceiling above. All you could do was replay the deal you had made with Eris over and over in your head, wondering if you had made a mistake.

You knew he did not care what happened to you but with the revelation that severing this bond could unmask it, he seemed to be keen on making sure it all stayed a secret. Eris, for one of the first times in his life, had to rely on someone else and you knew it was killing him.

He had been staying true to his word since your conversation, not even so much as grazing the thread of fate so that it felt like it wasn’t there. Rhysand had found Eris minutes after he had finished up with you and you knew that if they didn’t need him, Rhys would’ve ended his life right there.

They all interrogated him ruthlessly. Cassian and Azriel flanked Rhys’s sides as they worked through his reasoning, his motives, and if he was telling the truth. He repeated the same story he had given you and despite all of his past mistakes, you believed him. 

Rhys did too.

Everyone had made sure that you were okay with the arrangement, pulling you out of the room so you could speak freely. Of course, you weren’t truly happy with having to keep this connection, this bridge, between his world and your own, but you could deal with it. As long as you both stayed as far away as possible, it was doable. 

A sharp knock on your door had your head turning, raising a questioning brow as Rhysand opened it and walked inside. He was in normal clothes for once, though he was still handsome, but you could tell something was wrong.

“What do you need so early in the morning?” You asked suspiciously, glancing out your window. “The sun is barely up.”

“There is something amiss in the Autumn Court. The wooded area around the Forest House. I don’t know exactly what but Elain had a vision and…” He trailed off, scratching the back of his head.

“And what? You want me to go?” You frowned, sitting up as your blankets pooled around your ankles. “You know I can’t go, we just had this conversation weeks ago. Why not Az or Cassian? Or Amren? Or literally anyone else?”

“Azriel is already getting ready but I need another pair of eyes on the situation. Cassian is a bigger liability than you are for this mission, he doesn’t know the meaning of being quiet.” Rhys smirked, giving you a sympathetic look. “I know everything is…tense right now but I promise you will be in and out.”

“What exactly are we looking for?” The floor was cool against the soles of your feet as you reluctantly got up, heading for your wardrobe. “And does Eris know?”

He ran a hand over his face and for maybe the third or fourth time since you’ve known him, he actually looked tensed. Rhys never liked to show his true feelings, even his anxiety, but you could tell by just the way he shifted his feet it wasn’t something good.

“We think Briallyn might have one of the troves. Or she’s trying to get it. I need you and Azriel to see where she’s sending her men and why.” He explained, looking at the door as you went behind your privacy screen and got dressed. “If she gets her hands on one of them-”

“It’ll be very, very bad.” You finish for him, adjusting your leathers and gingerly styling your hair the best way you could. “Is Azriel ready?”

“Always,” Azriel replied from the doorway, Truthteller tucked carefully in its sheath as he gave you a wink. You snorted. “In and out, okay, Y/N? This shouldn’t take more than an hour.”

You nodded and gave him and Rhys a two-finger salute, opening your balcony doors and walking onto the banister. Azriel followed behind you, opening his wings just as you dove head first off the balcony and let your wings spread wide. The free-falling feeling was something you loved every time you took flight, your stomach dropping as the wind caught beneath your wings and rose you back up to glide. 

Azriel quickly fell in line beside you, his wingspan much bigger than yours as the two of you weaved and ducked around the high tops of trees and clouds. You held your hand out as you passed over a small cloud, a small bubble of happiness breaking through the dark depression you had been in for weeks now.

“How have you been?” Azriel asked, turning his head to look at you as you glanced up at him. You pulled your hand back to your side and shrugged, leisurely flapping your wings to propel you forward. 

“As good as someone could be in my situation I guess?” You sigh, glancing down at the trees. They were starting to change colors from green to reds and oranges. “I just wish I had never gone to that meeting.”

“I think we all agree with that.” He chuckled softly. “I can’t imagine a fate worse than that…with Eris. I’ve noticed you’ve been holed up inside your room, missing training. Cassian kept wanting to bother you but I told him to give you some space.”

A clearing appeared and you paused the conversation to dive down, Azriel following right behind as your wings extended to ease your landing. Your shoes dug into the soft earth and crunchy leaves as you came to a stop. 

The forest was quiet as you took a quick assessment, not seeing anything unusual. You couldn’t stop yourself from admiring the beauty as the rising sun caught the multi-colored leaves, the wind blowing just enough to give them a rippling water effect. As much as the Autumn Court had its problems it truly was one of the most beautiful courts you had seen.

“I appreciate the space, Az. I really do.” You turned to look at him, patting his shoulder. “I know I haven’t been the best in attendance but I’ll try to do better. I think I just enjoy wallowing too much.”

“If I were in your shoes, I would too.” He smirked, adjusting his stance as his shadows curled up to his ear to whisper something only he could understand. You watched, not daring to bring up his own personal problems with a certain Archeron sister. 

You knew he was just trying to be personable, if not a little nosy, but he was the closest thing you had to a brother and he was only looking out for you. The last thing you wanted to do was talk about Eris with anyone, partly because you were scared of the bond strengthening and partly because you didn’t want to be seen as some damaged person.

It seemed like all anyone thought of you as right now was Eris’s mate. You couldn’t escape it even in your own house. 

“Hey,” Azriel whispered, lifting up a small log and resting it against a tree. “This is our meeting spot. One hour. Head north. Eyes open.”

“Got it. Be safe.” You whispered back, nodding as you started your search. The air was now still as you noticed how no animals could be heard scurrying around, an eerie quietness that didn’t sit right in such a large forest.

However, you couldn’t see anything that looked suspicious. There were no footprints, no strange markings on trees, nothing that would tip you off that someone was here. You raised your chin and sniffed, searching for any unfamiliar scents, but all you got was earth.

As you searched you remembered Eris talking about Beron’s curiosity about Briallyn, how he was looking for an alliance with her. None of you could figure out a good reason as to why he would be looking for that unless he was planning on taking over other courts, which wasn’t too far-fetched for the vile man.

If that were his true intentions he must be stupider than you thought. He would be standing alone with Briallyn against everyone in Pyrthian. Why would he risk something like that unless he was sure he would win?

You paused midstep as you remembered Rhys’s suspicion of the wicked woman having one of the dead troves. If that were true that she had unearthed one of those terrible creations, it very well could beat you all. And Beron wouldn’t put his court on the line unless he was sure of something…

Lost in thought, a small glimmer caught your eye right as you stepped into a hidden snare. You were blessed by the Cauldron that you hadn’t set it off, immediately taking several steps back as you examined the trap. The first thing you noticed was that it was not made for any animal. 

It was made for a fae.

Alarm bells went off in your head as you unsheathed your dagger and held it close to you. Why would there be a trap for a fae in a forest where they often walked? Who was this trap for? 

A crunch behind you made you turn around and lunge without a second thought, a snarl curled up on your lips as you went to strike at the intruder. However, you found yourself being wrapped in bonds of fire around your wrists, waist, and wings. It was very warm but not enough to burn you as you squirmed against the restraints, your eyes widening when you saw who was standing before you. 

Eris was glaring at you, his hair slightly disheveled and hanging freely as if he had just woken up, while only dawned in a light shirt and long pants. You flinched as

the bond within you sang at the sight of him, the smell of him, and watched as he responded the same.

“Let me go.” You hissed, fighting against his magic once more only to wince when he tightened the bonds. 

“What the fuck are you doing here, Y/N?” He snarled, coming up to you in two long strides. 

“How did you even know I was here? Did you set this trap?” You retorted, falling to the ground as he released you before quickly scurrying up to go toe to toe with him. 

“I felt you through the bond, it woke me out of my sleep.” Eris curled his fists tightly by his side. “You reckless, stupid woman. Do you know what could have happened if one of my brothers had been the one to find you? Or my father? If this is some trick to strengthen our bond or-”

“Oh don’t flatter yourself, Vanserra.” You snorted, jabbing a finger into his chest. “The last thing I want is anything to do with you or this bond. I’m here because-”

A tree branch snapped behind the both of you, your eyes meeting with his as you stilled your breathing. Everything was quiet, not a whisper of wind, and you

shivered as you felt a dark presence behind you. 

The back of your neck tingled in warning but before the two of you could even react something or someone appeared behind you and hit the back of your head, knocking you out cold. The last thing you heard was Eris yelling your name as everything went to black. 

Later

When you woke back up you had a massive headache, immediately clutching the back of your head and whimpering as you felt the large knot that was protruding outwards. As you moved you heard the rattle of chains and felt a sense of dread wash over you like a bucket of ice water.

You looked around blearily, blinking multiple times to try and clear your eyes to take in your surroundings. The first thing you noticed, or in this case smelled, was must and iron. It was an awful combination with blood and piss mixed in that made you want to hurl.

As you tried to stand you realized those chains you had heard were attached to you. They were around your neck, your wrists, and your ankles and when you tried to stretch your wings you saw that they were also locked away. 

Not my wings. Not my wings. Not my wings.

Your heart started to race as fear and claustrophobia set in, using all your strength to try and break free only to realize that you felt weaker than you had ever had in your life. It felt like you were a caged animal and as you tried one more time to yank the chains out of the wall, you heard a voice from the corner.

“It’s faebane.” The voice said, dry and tired. “It weakens us. It’s no use.”

Eris’s eyes caught yours as you looked at him in surprise, taking in the dirt across his body as well as the bruises and cut lip. He looked awful but you were sure you probably looked worse. 

“What happened?” You croaked, looking around your cell. There was a small window at the top and to the side you noticed rows upon rows of other holdings. Some were empty, some had other faes, and some had dead bodies. “Where are we?”

“Briallyn’s dungeon. Her soldiers ambushed up when you were snooping around.” He recalled, watching as you glared at him with a frown.

“I wasn’t snooping, I was sent there by Rhys. He hadn’t heard from you but he had heard a rumor about your-” You tried to explain only to huff when he cut you off once more.

“I don’t want to hear your excuses. If it weren’t for you, we wouldn’t be stuck here right now.” Eris snapped, his temper growing with every second. You didn’t know how long he had been awake but it was long enough that he had been stewing in his own anger. 

“You’re the one who started shouting at me. If anything, you drew them to us.” You argued, flinching when he suddenly drew closer to you with rage in his eyes.

“Stupid Illyrian woman. I should’ve known you couldn’t follow basic instructions. All you were raised for is breeding and raising children.” Eris sneered, venom dripping off of each word. “That’s all you will ever be good for. You should’ve stayed in your place.”

You hated the way you winced, hated letting him see how his words got to you. He was cruel, you knew, but you didn’t realize how vile he could truly be. His words cut you deep and reminded you of all the things you had been told in your life from others, especially your own kind.

“I hate you.” You whispered, blinking away the tears as you turned away to look out the cell. Those words had been said to him by you plenty of times but this time, this time you meant it with every fiber of your being.

Eris watched you, looking at how they had caged your wings like an animal, and he felt the anger leave his body. He knew he had gone too far. His anger had gotten the best of him. Again.

He watched as you brought your knees to your chest and rested your head on them, not wanting him to see the tears even though he could see the slight shake in your

shoulders. The bond inside of him twisted painfully like a knife, as if punishing him for making you upset. 

Your ears perked up as you heard footsteps walking down the hall but you tuned them out as Eris’s words replayed in your mind. He had been so mean ever since he had met you. It still baffled you that the Mother thought the two of you were meant for each other, that you would be able to feel anything towards him other than resentment.

“Lay down.” Eris suddenly hissed behind you, his tone sharp. “Now.”

You turned to give him a death glare, not in the mood to take any orders from him before you heard the footsteps once more as they stopped directly in front of you. 

“Well, well, well, look who’s awake.” A male fae sneered above you, the one beside him grinning. “I was hoping you would wake up soon.”

“Let us go now.” You ordered, trying your best to be intimidating. “Or you will deeply suffer the consequences. I promise you.”

“I like em’ feisty. Makes you more fun to break.” The original one chuckled, whistling as two more men appeared with a set of keys. “Help me grab her.”

As soon as the doors opened you used what little strength you had to leap up and strike, landing a kick to the closet one and sending him to his knees. The attack was short lived as you fell to your side in pain, struggling as someone tried to grab your feet. 

The one who fell appeared in front of you and you spit in his face, trying to bite whatever you could before you felt a large hand grab a fistful of your hair and yank as hard as he could. It had you crying out sharply in pain, feeling as if your scalp was about to be ripped off as the others grabbed your legs and arms.

They unchained you from the wall and started dragging you down the hall, the hand still gripping your hair tightly as your eyes connected with Eris. He looked like a scared child, his eyes wide and face white as a ghost. 

And despite everything that had happened between the two of you, the hatred that had grown from the bond, you found yourself calling out for him to save you.

“Eris! Eris!” You screamed, struggling against the men as the cell became smaller and smaller. “Eris, please! Help me!”

But there was no response. 

Taglist: @elizarikaallen @kristeristerin @a-frog-with-a-laptop @littlebbb @introvertsuntes68-blog @clairebear08 @feyretopia @jangmi-latte 

[bridgyrose]

Rosebird Week day 3: Vampire and Hunter

Raven wiped away sweat from her brow, eyes locked on the vampire in front of her. Silver eyes reflected the light of the moon almost inhumanly, unwaveringly even with a huntress standing before her. No hint of fear or worry, just a soft smile as she looked down on her. She reached for the cross she held in her pocket, only to stop when she felt the cold hand of the vampire on her wrist. 

“No need for that,” the vampire said quietly. “This was supposed to be just between us, wasnt it? You and your wit against me and my speed. Or was all of that just talk like all the others who have come after me?” 

Raven felt her heart pound in her chest as she stared directly into the vampire’s silver eyes, not quite sure when she appeared so suddenly in front of her. The only sign that she had moved were a few rose petals that seemed to flow in the wind. And yet, not a hair seemed to have moved out of place from the vampire. “I-I know… I know when I’m beat.” 

The vampire let go of Raven and pouted. “That’s no fun. I was just starting to warm up too. Guess that means my night is ruined. Maybe another night.” 

“You’re… not going to kill me?” 

“If I killed every vampire hunter that came after me, my life would be boring. Killing one or two gets me a reputation, killing all of them and no one would ever know me. Though, I do have to admit, you’re the first one to make it this far. So its only fair that I leave you with your life.” 

Raven watched the vampire, not quite sure how she felt about being allowed to leave alive. It almost felt cheap, just being allowed to go without anything more than the guilt of letting down what was supposed to be her prey. 

“I-I dont understand,” Raven finally said quietly. “I tracked you down, I lured you out and tried to kill you-” 

“And you did a very good job at it. We should make a date of it. How does tomorrow sound?” 

“I’m not making a date with a vampire.” 

“My name is Summer,” Summer said as she rolled her eyes. “And we dont have to call it a date, it can be an appointment instead.” 

“An appointment.”

“You’re the one who’s opposed to the word date.” 

A date… to fight? Raven pinched the bridge of her nose and let out a heavy sigh as she thought it all over. This wasnt something that could just be scheduled out. Tracking down Summer had taken weeks to pin her down, and now she just wanted to schedule out another fight? 

“This is a bit… unorthodox.” Raven took another breath to calm herself. “We’re here now, why cant we just fight like we’re supposed to?” 

“Because you gave up and now I’m bored of it. So, we can try it again tomorrow.” 

“And how do I know you’ll keep your word?” 

“A vampire always keeps their word,” Summer said with a smile. “Though, I do have to admit, you did go through a lot to find me. One would almost say you were… obsessed with me, dont you think?” 

A blush crossed Raven’s cheek as she felt Summer drag her finger across her cheek, her heart nearly stopping for a moment from the sudden thought. Summer practically had her wrapped around her finger and she knew it. 

Summer smirked and pulled away. “Let me make a deal with you. Come back tomorrow, put in the same effort into our fight like you did today, and I’ll make it worth your while.” 

“A-and what…” Raven cleared her throat as her voice broke. “...what did you… have in mind?” 

“That is a secret. One that I’m sure you’ll enjoy. Come back here tomorrow and I promise you wont be disappointed.” 

Rose petals scattered in the wind as Raven watched Summer disappear just before the sun started to rise. She had been played by Summer and she didnt quite regret it like she thought she would’ve. Instead, she picked up her sword from the ground and started to make her way back to the village. 

“Lets just hope you keep your word.” 

[lisbeth-kk]

December moments

Prompt used in this chapter: Boxing Day

It’s time to go home, but the train doesn’t meet Sherlock’s demands when it comes to speed. For quite some time he wishes he lived in Japan and could rely on the Shinkansen to get him home and into bed with John in minutes instead of hours.

December 26

There had been some blurry eyes at breakfast on Christmas Day when John told the other Holmes’s about the engagement. Mycroft just lifted an eyebrow and gave them both a knowing look that suggested they hadn’t been that silent in the shower after all. John was too euphoric to care and didn’t even blush. Sherlock on the other hand got a tinge of pink on his cheekbones, which John ached to kiss, but he stayed decent, just squeezing Sherlock’s hand and interlacing their fingers. 

John had urged Sherlock to tell his family about the upcoming trip to the north, to get the attention away from innuendos about their passionate encounter. 

Sherlock’s parents eagerly told them about their honeymoon to the Norwegian city of Tromsø, where Mrs. Holmes also was to give a few lectures at the university. 

“Of course, she was,” Sherlock muttered under his breath. 

“We married on New Years Eve and left for the north two days later. It was -25 degrees for the entire week, and we saw the northern lights every day,” Mr. Holmes said dreamily. 

“Did you know this?” John asked Sherlock when they’d eaten. 

“I did not,” Sherlock admits, still awed and puzzled by this new insight about his parents. 

After a late breakfast on Boxing Day, Sherlock and John packed their bags to return home to London. The former was taught as a violin string, eager to experience what awaited him once they got inside 221B. Just thinking back to John’s promise on Christmas Eve, of what he would do to his fiancé, made Sherlock’s brain buzz and his body sing. 

***

“Do you regret leaving your family home?” John asks after they’ve found their seats on the train. 

Sherlock looks at John like he’d asked him if he wants Anderson to be his best man, and it must show on his face, if John’s chuckle is any indicator. 

“You just seem anxious and a bit agitated,” John explains. 

Sherlock huffs and rolls his eyes. 

“This train stops at every station, John! It will take us ages to get home.”

“I see,” John purrs and lets his eyes roam over Sherlock’s body, lingering on his groin. 

Sherlock growls in frustration and squirms in his seat. His trousers are getting uncomfortably tight around aforementioned area. He can’t decide if he’s pleased or irritated that the train is so crowded, but in the end sets on the former. It would’ve been far too tempting to crowd in on John if there were more space around them. 

For the remainder of the train ride, John has an amused look on his face. He has obviously observed Sherlock’s discomfort, and Sherlock’s unable to tell if John’s in a similar state. John’s so good at hiding his expressions and bodily impulses when they’re in public. 

John leans forward, placing his hand on Sherlock’s knee and murmurs something under his breath. At first, Sherlock’s not able to decipher the words, because his senses are distracted by the warm and tingling sensation John’s hand on his knee has on him. John repeats himself, and squeezes his knee for emphasis, which gets Sherlock’s brain working again. 

“Deep breaths, love.”

Sherlock inhales and exhales like his doctor ordered and feels some of the tension subsides. He lets his hand rest atop of John’s for a few seconds before he leans back in his seat and gazes out of the window, realising that London Bridge is the next stop. 

***

Sherlock tosses their bags haphazardly to the floor and shrugs out of his coat in seconds, before turning to face John who stands at parade’s rest looking expectantly at him. Sherlock’s mouth is dry, and he feels tension building in every limb and nerve ending. 

“What do you want, love?” John asks so softly it contradicts his stance.

Sherlock closes his eyes relieved that John lets him choose. 

“Just you, John,” he whispers, anxiously searching John’s face for any displeasure. 

“Come here, fiancé.”

John opens his arms and Sherlock stumbles toward him, burying his face in John’s neck, inhaling the scent there, which always grounds him. 

“I was hoping you’d say that,” John tells him. “Captain Watson can wait. Tonight, I just want us to be Sherlock and John.”

“How did I get this lucky, John?” Sherlock mumbles into John’s skin, placing warm kisses wherever he can reach without moving away. 

John pets his hair and Sherlock relaxes completely with just a hint of arousal tingling in the outskirts of his consciousness. 

“Let me take you to bed, Sherlock,” John whispers in Sherlock’s ear. 

“Yes, fiancé,” Sherlock retorts, and follows John down the hallway with blushing cheeks. 

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