#I wanting to finish this before work tomorrow

[coldfanbou]

Kinkcember Day 20: Massage

Today, you get to give your boss a nice massage. I hope you enjoy it, she will.

Length 1.9K

Solar X Mreader

You come home, sighing after another day of work; as soon as you’re through the door, you head to your bed and collapse. Your body aches; you’ve spent the day running around trying to support your boss, Solar. You drift off to sleep. There were a million things you wanted to do, but sleep took over, and you awakened the following day. You shower and get dressed before heading off to work. When you get to your desk, you see a note from Solar; you groan, imagining what she could possibly want at this time. You pick the note up and read it, “Hey, I’ve seen you working pretty hard these past few weeks. As thanks for all your work I’m sending you to a resort. Enjoy your paid time off. The stuff for your trip is in the top left drawer.” You crack a smile, happy that it wasn’t more work. You open the drawer, and much like she said, it’s there, along with all the other information you need. You notice the flight is tomorrow. You work hard and finish the day before packing at home. In the early morning of the next day, you're on a flight, and by one p.m., you’re at the resort. 

It’s not until you’re making your way to your room that you notice that you haven’t seen a man there at all. Every worker and guest you saw was a woman; they were beautiful women. Stepping into your room, you find a note in the middle of your bed. You lay down and grab it, “Out by the pool is a special reward for you.” The message had lipstick on it; you begin to consider why Solar would do that when you realize this trip might just be work. You sigh and change into a pair of swim trunks before heading to the pool, where you spot her. Solar was lounging by the pool, wearing a tight blue bikini. Despite wearing a wide-brim straw hat and sunglasses, you could immediately tell it was Solar. She seems to be aware of your presence, too, as she lifts her head and turns toward you. She waves you over. You sigh before walking over to your boss. 

She smiles at you, “Hey there, welcome to my resort. What do you think?” You stay silent and stare at Solar; she could be insufferable sometimes.  

You look her over quickly as you speak, “Was it really necessary to make me think this was a vacation?” You ask, noting the way her bikini clung to her, hugging her modest chest and the high waist bottoms, making her beautiful legs look longer. 

“Don’t sound so disappointed. You’re here with me.” That wasn’t something that excited you, even if Solar was wearing a bikini. You just knew she would want you to take care of things while you were here. Seeing her in a bikini was a change of pace, though. The only time you had seen more skin from her was when you walked in on her changing; while it was something that you couldn’t get out of your head, it was also something that didn’t make up for the work she had you do. Solar smiles and takes off her straw hat, placing it on the lounge chair beside her. She adjusts her hair, making an effort to show off the sides of her tits. 

Solar pulls on your arm, having you come closer to her. “Oh wow, you’ve gotten so strong. You could use these hands for something nice, and I know just the thing.” Solar holds onto your arm, reaching to the small table beside her and grabbing a bottle of oil. “You wouldn’t mind helping me with this, would you?” You already know she’s just asking to sound polite. She wouldn’t let you refuse. 

She places the bottle in your hand and turns onto her stomach. You glance at her full ass, getting hard as you see the piece of flesh shake as she adjusts herself. You try to focus on the task at hand and cover your hands in the oil, pouring some on her back as well. “Oh wait, let me get this off.” Solar blurts out just as you’re about to begin. She unhooks her bikini top and places her hands back at her side. You see her breasts bulge outward as she lays flat. You begin at the top, massaging the oil into her skin; your rough grip and the pressure you apply make Solar squeak out soft moans.

Listening to her moan keeps your cock hard; your boss was moaning because of you. You move down Solar's back, kneading it and making her moans continue. Your cock twitched each time she moaned, and the longer you stared at her body, the more you wanted her. Solar glances at you, noticing the hungry look in your eyes. “Why don’t you get my legs too?” You stop, looking at her legs before nodding. Starting at the bottom, you slowly make your way up her calves and to her thighs; you listen to Solar hum in approval as she feels your hands squeeze her thighs. “Oh, that feels so good. Keep going.” Solar moves her legs apart slightly, her breathing getting heavy as she gives you another order. “Make sure to get every part.” You take a deep breath as you move to her inner thigh, your fingers rubbing against her clothed slit. Solar moans, refusing to hide her voice as she feels your hand rub against her. You move up, kneading her ass and making her moan as you massage her. Solar’s flesh jiggles once you let go, settling slowly. You’re getting harder, beginning to imagine fucking your boss.

Solar continues to glance at you before finally deciding to make another move. She takes off her sunglasses and moves onto her side, denying you a look at her breast by using her arm to cover herself. Solar stares at your hard-on and smirks, “Is that for me? Are you going to give me another kind of massage?” She says in a teasing voice. As you try to explain away your bulge, Solar moves onto her back. “Get my back, will you?” She moves her hand away from your chest, revealing her small tits to you. You watch as your boss moves her hands to her bikini bottom, taking them off and throwing them away. She wasn’t bothered being naked in front of you at all. “Well? Get started.” You pour the tanning oil onto Solar’s stomach, kneading it into her skin, moving from the center outward. She coos as she feels your hands move upward to ward her breasts. You try to avoid them, but she grabs your hands and moves them up. “Don’t be afraid; I need you to help me.” You knead her breast, listening to her moans yet again. You’re at full mast as you're touching your boss’s breasts. Solar can feel herself getting wet, enjoying your touch. Once you’re done, you begin to move down her body, covering the front of her powerful thighs.

The young woman reaches for your hands again, “I think you’re forgetting a spot.” She says, moving your hands to her inner thigh, right by her cunt. YOu nod and begin to massage Solar’s legs again, glancing at her perfectly shaven cunt. Your hand grazed her slit, making her coo, “Oh, that’s it. Right there.” You rub your hands against her slit, making Solar moan. You wanted to fuck her; it was the only thought in your head as you she moaned your name.

Solar smiles and reaches for your shorts as your hand runs across her slit; she moans your name louder as she feels you push a finger into her slit. Returning the favor as quickly as she can, Solar pulls your shorts down and runs her hand along your hard cock. You both moan, attracting the attention of the other guests. “Don’t think about them; this is normal here.” Solar tells you as she rubs her palm against the tip of your cock. She grinds against your hand, wanting you to go deeper, and her moans get louder. You mouse your other hand to grope her breasts, kneading them. Solar arches her back, reveling in the pleasure. 

She could feel the precum staining her hand and stopped stroking your cock to taste it; she hummed happily, licking her lips before pulling you in closer and swallowing your cock. The pleasure becomes too much for you to focus on fingering Solar, and you pull your fingers out, grabbing her head instead and pushing her against your pelvis. Your boss takes you easily, your cock ramming the back of her throat as she bobs her head. Her tongue runs from side to side as she bobs her head. Solar was not going to let you go; she moved her hands to your thighs, grabbing them as she sucked your cock. Your cock began to throb because of her, you were reaching your climax, and she didn’t care. Just as you were about to warn her, you cum, filling her mouth with your semen. She gags as her mouth fills up but quickly recovers, taking every drop from you. Solar pulls away slowly, opening her mouth with a smile as she shows you your cum. She swallows your cum, showing you a now empty mouth before dragging you onto the lounge chair.

Solar straddles you, grinding herself against your cock. “Mmm, fuck.” She groans. Solar places her hands on your chest, rubbing it as she feels your cock throb against her slit. “Let’s get down to business.” Solar raises herself, grabbing your cock and pressing it against her entrance. She coos, lowering herself onto your cock. “Oh, that’s it.” She moans, continuing to lower herself onto your cock. You grab Solar’s waist and drag her down, completely engrossed by the pleasure you’re getting from her tight cunt. You lean in and kiss her neck, leaving marks on her as she begins bouncing on your cock. Solar holds you against her as she moves along your shaft. You squeeze her ass, kneading the soft flesh and making Solar’s moans grow even louder. You lift and drop Solar onto your cock, reveling in the feeling of her cunt tightening around your cock. “Oh, fuck,” Solar groans, feeling your cock impale her. 

Your grip tightens, and Solar’s moans grow louder as she feels your nails dig into her flesh. You begin slamming your boss down on your cock, her pink walls clamping down around your cock as you begin to reach your climax. Solar holds you tightly, whining as she feels herself about to cum. “Solar, I’m cumming,” You groan as your cock begins to throb inside her. 

“Cum inside me! Do it!” You slam Solar down onto your cock, filling your boss with your cum. Something you never even thought about. Solar’s nails scratch your back as her body shudders from the pleasure; her climax hits her hard, making her run out of breath. “Oh shit,” she groans, feeling her pussy become full. “I think I’m going to need some more from you,” she smirks. “Let’s go back to your room.” You hold onto Solar’s ass as you lift her, carrying her to your room, every step causing your cock to move inside the young woman. Solar groans, holding onto you with a smile as you pass guests along your way to your room.

[steveseddie]

apply directly to the forehead

written for @steddieholidaydrabbles | prompt: alone | rating: t | wc: 997 | tags: hurt comfort, steve has migraines, eddie takes care of him, hand holding, forehead kisses read on ao3

No one notices when Steve slips out the front door. No one but Eddie, who tells Jonathan he’s going out for a smoke and follows him.

There are only woods around the Hopper-Byers cabin, and the only light comes from the Christmas lights hanging from the roof so it takes a moment for Eddie’s eyes to adjust to the near darkness. He sees Steve sitting on the steps with his head between his knees and taking slow, deep breaths. 

“Steve?” Eddie speaks softly, trying not to startle him but Steve still flinches. “You okay?” 

“I’m fine,” Steve mumbles, keeping his head down. 

Eddie sits next to him. “Wanna try again? That wasn’t very convincing.”

Steve groans but it’s not his ‘Eddie is being annoying’ groan, it’s a pained groan. 

“‘S just a headache, ‘m fine,” Steve insists but his voice sounds weak. 

“Look at me.” Eddie squeezes his knee. “Stevie, please, look at me.” 

Steve sighs but lifts his head. Eddie can’t help but wince at how he looks. His face is twisted into a grimace, his skin is paper-white and there are tears in his eyes. 

“Oh, Steve. It’s a migraine, isn’t it? A bad one?” He gently brushes some hair off Steve’s face. Steve gives a tiny nod. “When did it start?” 

“A few hours ago,” Steve says with a shuddery breath. “While shopping with Robin, all the lights, the music and the crowds–”

“Why didn’t you say something?” 

Steve shrugs, then winces. “Didn’t want to worry anyone.” 

“Of course not.” That’s why Steve still showed up to the Hopper-Byers Christmas party, knowing there would be loud music and even louder kids, and then forced himself to smile through his pain. Eddie sighs. “C’mon, I’m taking you home.” 

“No, Eds–” Steve protests weakly. “I can drive myself-”

Eddie huffs. “Steve, you can’t even keep your eyes open right now.”

“But the party–”

“–will carry on without us,” Eddie finishes, rolling his eyes. “Wait here, okay?” 

Steve sighs and nods, and Eddie squeezes his knee again before heading back inside. 

He finds Robin and tells her that Steve isn’t feeling well and he’s taking him home. 

“Do you want me to come?” She asks, worried.

“Nah, I got him,” Eddie says. Steve wouldn’t want someone else to leave the party early because of him. “Just tell Hopper I’ll pick up the van tomorrow, okay?” 

“Okay, thanks, Eddie,” she says with a quick hug. 

Outside, Eddie finds Steve leaning against the railing, looking like he’s about to keel over. 

“Alright, big boy. Let’s get you home,” he says, leading them to the Beemer.

“No van?” 

“Nope. You complain about how fucking loud my van is on a good day. Figured you wouldn’t appreciate it today of all days.”

Steve chuckles weakly. “Admit it, you just want an excuse to drive a cool car for once.” 

Eddie scoffs indignantly. “My van is plenty cool, Harrington.” 

“Uh huh.” 

He sticks his tongue out at Steve and starts the car. The drive to his house is quiet. Eddie turns the radio all the way off, Steve keeps his head against the window and his eyes closed, and Eddie tries his best not to jostle the car too much. 

He has to gently shake Steve’s shoulder once they arrive and then he follows him inside. 

He goes straight to his bedroom and collapses on the bed, taking his shoes off but leaving his jeans and his ugly Christmas sweater on. 

Eddie finds some sleeping clothes and tosses them his way. “Take those jeans off, Harrington.”

Steve huffs. “At least buy me dinner first, Munson,” he says, his hands working on his belt buckle. 

Eddie’s cheeks turn pink but with just the moonlight illuminating the room through the curtains, he doubts Steve can see it. “So that’s what it takes to get into Steve Harrington’s pants?”

“Usually,” Steve says, shoving his jeans off before sliding on sweatpants, keeping his movements slow to not make his headache worse. “But for a guy as hot as you, I can make an exception.”

Eddie chokes on his spit. Leave it to Steve to flirt while his head is waging a war against the rest of him.  

After changing out of his Christmas sweater, Steve falls back into bed, burrowing his face into his pillow with a groan. The mattress dips when Eddie sits next to him, his back against the headboard. Steve blinks one eye open. “You don’t have to stay, I’m–”

“-in no condition to be alone right now,” Eddie finishes, rolling his eyes.

“You should go back to the party. I didn’t mean to ruin your night–”

“Steve Harrington called me hot. Nothing could ruin my night after that,” he jokes even if there’s some truth to it. 

Steve groans– this time it is his ‘Eddie is being annoying’ groan. “I’m gonna regret saying that.” 

“Because you didn’t mean it or–”

“Oh, I meant it,” Steve says, rolling to his side and looking up at Eddie through half-lidded eyes that might not have anything to do with his migraine. “But now you can hold it against me.”

“It would be kind of hypocritical of me since I also find you hot,” Eddie says, playing with a rip in his jeans. 

Steve’s fingers find his, intertwining them. “If my head wasn’t about to explode I would suggest we do something about that.”

Eddie’s widen. “Something like–”

“Like kissing. Though I could be persuaded to do other things.”

“Jesus,” Eddie says laughing shakily. “Now my head feels like it might explode.”

“We can talk in the morning,” Steve says, shifting until he finds a comfortable position. 

“Thought you didn’t want me to stay,” Eddie teases.

“Said you didn’t have to stay, Eds. I always want you here.” 

Eddie’s stomach flutters. “Okay,” he says, sliding down until he’s lying next to Steve, their fingers still intertwined. 

“Thanks for taking care of me,” Steve whispers, half asleep already. 

“Anytime, sweetheart,” Eddie says softly, kissing Steve’s forehead. “Anytime.”

[deusfoundry]

18+ only mdni pls thank u!

also big BIIG thanks to ree @tbaluver for helping me w this ILY MWAAH!

zayne would never be opposed to letting you have your way with him.

one half-lidded gaze from you, one graze of your manicured nails at his clothed length, one drag of your wet tongue against the shell of his ear as you tell him how badly you want him inside you, and he's a goner. already, he's letting you drag him to the bedroom. sometimes neither of you even have the patience to go there, and zayne ends up pinning you against the wall just outside his office, his palms desperately clinging to the back of your thigh in a way that burns. sometimes he settles on having you bent over his desk, his chest pressed against your back, the same nails clawing at the heavy mahogany, papers hastily pushed to the side.

but this report is important. it's due first thing in the morning, and as much as he wants to be in bed with you, right now he has to finish this.

when you first approached him tonight with the pure and genuine intention of getting him to sleep early, he dismisses you apologetically. he places a hand on your cheek, swiping his thumb right below your eyes as if he's wiping your tears and tells you he's sorry. he'll be there soon, and you should go to sleep if you're feeling tired (which he knows you are, if the yawn you struggle to push down is anything to go by).

he watches your figure retreat from his office, shoulders hunched and footsteps unnervingly silent. the guilt starts to simmer within him, slowly, steadily eating at him until he's filled with thoughts of abandoning his work to put that smile he adores back on your face. he wills his focus back on the screen in front of him instead, dead set on making it up to you after his shift tomorrow. perhaps he can even afford to clock out a little earlier, just in time to pick up two boxes of the strawberry macarons you two love so much from a cafe at the other side of town right before they close.

except, you come back to his office a half hour later, and this time, zayne knows you're up to no good.

it's in the little things. you're sauntering towards him with a sway to your hips. the first two buttons of his shirt you're wearing is undone, one side of the collar pulled to the edge of your shoulder, exposing to him a dangerous amount of smooth skin. the cherry on top is the noticeable absence of the shorts you were wearing earlier.

zayne wonders if you'd forgo wearing your underwear as well.

"zayne..." it's there, too. in the way you say his name, drawled out and a little breathless. if he listens closely, he can hear the undertone of a whine.

he feels the all familiar strain in his pants.

zayne watches, a mix of amusement and intrigue, as you rub a palm up and down the length of his arm before nudging it away and sliding yourself onto his lap. you encase his neck between your arms, using it to anchor yourself closer until you're right on top of his increasingly aching cock.

you make no comment about the bulge in his pants poking your thighs, but he knows you're aware of the effect you have on him. a smug grin makes it way to your lips. just a flicker, a brief moment where you acknowledge what you're doing to him, and it's gone the next second.

"i'm not feeling too well, doctor. i think i need a check-up."

you begin feigning distress, making a show out of curling into yourself and leaning against his chest. the movement you make causes the fabric on your shoulder to slip off. slowly, like each added inch of skin baring itself to him is taunting him. it stops, resting right in the middle of your arm, low enough that he can see the better part of your left breast.

his face runs hot, but he decides to humor you. just for the few seconds he could afford to spare if he wanted to finish this report before midnight.

the back of zayne's hand finds your neck. he moves it around a little, shifting from one side to another as if he's checking for your temperature.

"there's nothing particularly off about your temperature." he hums, sliding you further down his lap, intent on pouring all his attention to his work. he'll just have to deal with his ... problem later.

zayne almost misses the way your face falls in disappointment once you realize what he's doing. there's that guilt again.

he plants a kiss on your temple, his lips lingering on the side of your head much longer than it should've had. he's hoping it's enough to convey his words unsaid.

"perhaps you're just missing a few hours of sleep. shall i accompany the patient back to her bedroom?"

you stay quiet, lips pursed in deep thought. the silence stretches on until zayne gathers it's time for him to speak.

only, you beat him to it, moving to straddle his thighs so quickly that zayne can only react by wrapping an arm around your waist to make sure you don't fall. you land right back over his cock with enough force that it pulls an involuntary groan out of his lips and a whimper from yours.

"i think-" you breathe in, a sharp inhale through your nose before you breathe out through your mouth. the searing heat of your breath on zayne's ear makes him shiver beneath you, low vibrations sending a jolt to your clit through the damp fabric of your panties.

"i think this requires a more..." you take his hand in yours, shakily drawing it closer to hover over your breast. "hands-on approach, doctor."

zayne's head is spinning. your cunt over his painfully hard cock. the odd warmth radiating from your chest, the faint shadow of your pert nipples through his shirt. this look you're giving him, eyes hazy and half-closed like you're already lost in the pleasure when you've barely gotten enough. it's too much.

it's all too much.

"dear-"

he's cut off by the drag of your hips, pressing down on him with enough pressure that his head is thrown back from the friction of the inner fabric of his pants rubbing against his length, but just shy of the speed you both need to chase your high.

zayne finally puts his foot down when your pace starts to get more frantic. he pries his hand off of yours, using the combined strength of his arm around your waist and his hand on your hips to steady you.

he hears a quiet whine slipping past your lips at the loss of pleasure.

"stop. t- that's enough." he means to add more conviction to his words, but he finds that his voice comes out as less polite pleading and more pathetic begging. "i'll make it up to you later, just- just let me finish this."

a mix of whimpers and whines fall off your lips. you try to move despite his restraints, rolling your hips with as much fervor as you can muster. and it works. zayne moans, his arms going limp over that momentary burst of pleasure. you take advantage of his weakened state to full on ride his clothed cock.

zayne begins to lose himself. the thought of his report sits there, idly in the back of his mind, but it's almost completely replaced by you. you, and the delicious roll of your hips into his, filling his vision with the sight of stars and the whole universe. you, and the blissed out look on your face as you use his body to chase your pleasure. you, your eyes shut in concentration, your messed up hair, your nails clawing at his shoulders.

you.

you.

you.

you've almost consumed him whole.

almost.

zayne regains his bearings just in time to stop you from going over the edge. your eyes are pried open, jaw slacking as his hand finds your waist once more. you're about to complain, beg him to allow you to keep going. but his fingers dig into your flesh. his grip, firm yet delicate, sends an odd blend of pain and pleasure through your senses.

"i said that's enough."

zayne says—no, commands with a certain finality in his voice that makes you think he wants to stop altogether. but you find his actions contradicting his words when he pushes his chair back, providing him enough space to turn you around with ease.

your mind is having trouble keeping up with him. you can make out the sound of his zipper being pulled, the rustling of his pants as he yanks it down just enough for his length to spring free, the light slapping of skin on skin when his cock makes brief contact with your back. but you only come face to face with what's happening when zayne hoists you up by the waist, dragging your panties to the side. your juices from earlier acts as a lubricant for him to sheathe his cock into you with little resistance.

you're so full so suddenly, gummy walls gripping him like a vice. the tip brushes against that spot inside you that zayne knows sends your eyes rolling to the back of your head.

"zayne-!"

"shh, be quiet." he slides the chair back towards the desk, his arm unmoving around your waist. every slight twitch of his cock has you clenching down on him, but zayne makes no move to react. your only indication of how riled up he truly is are his hand latching on to your skin and the minute quiver of his voice, breath hot and shaky over your ear.

you're reminded of how it was him in this position a moment ago. how it was seemingly your victory.

"now, why don't you be a good girl and stay still."

something tells you you're in for a long night.

a/n: smut is surprisingly fun to write lmfao HKASHFD

dividers by @cafekitsune

[msschemmenti]

fun police - 5

The next week came, but as soon as Emily arrived, someone in her office was waiting to meet with her. Then that meeting ran into another meeting somewhere else in the building. And another meeting turned into another– so many meetings that she hadn’t even been in her office for more than 10 minutes. So when Y/n found the sticky note pressed against her office door asking to reschedule for later that evening she was pleasantly surprised. It seemed their last session may have had a more positive influence than she had anticipated. Not only was the older woman taking the initiative to reschedule but she was also willing to meet outside of the typical office job hours. Now if Emily was finally coming around, this was going to make her job a lot easier.

So when evening struck Y/n found herself knocking at Emily’s open doorway with a smile. “Boy, you’re one hard woman to catch.” she teased as she came to a stop in front of Emily’s desk. The older woman ran a hand through her hair and leveled Y/n with an unamused glare. “Oof, tough crowd.” Y/n winced as she watched the older woman carefully.

Emily rolled her eyes and moved to shut down her computer with a sigh, “Thank you for agreeing to meet later, I know it’s not the most convenient but I appreciate it.”

“Of course, I’m just glad you still wanted to meet today. I figured you’d take the opportunity to skip and run with it.” Y/n shrugged. “But either way with the way I imagine your day going, it might be good to have someone help you unwind before heading home for the night.”

Emily scoffs and looks at the case files piled in her inbox, “That’s if I make it home,” she mumbled before looking back to the younger woman wistfully. “But, yes. Yes, that would be very helpful.”

Y/n tsked almost instantly at Emily’s words and circled the desk. “Well that just won’t do.” Emily watched as the woman confidently reached around her body to sift through the files on her desk. “All of these can definitely wait till tomorrow. It’s not like the budget for the next five years is going to implode if you don’t finish it tonight.”

Emily swatted at the younger woman’s hands as she tried to pull the file closer to herself, “That’s confidential.” The older woman pushed the files further up her desk and turned her chair to face Y/n directly. The proximity of their bodies dawned on Emily a little too late. And as quickly as she registered it, it’s all she could think about. Still sitting in her desk chair, her eyes were level with the wellness counselor’s hips and she fought hard to move her eyes to a more appropriate place. But the further her eyes rose, the more distracted she became. Her mouth dried and the heat seemed to kick in and her hands subconsciously pulled her collar away from her neck. Y/n’s hands came down in Emily’s peripheral and settled on her hips. And if Emily was looking at her face, she’s positive she could see the attitude working it’s way across her forehead. After three sessions, observing the younger woman around the office, and all she’d heard from the team– she knew a witty quip was coming her way. With that in mind, she finally settled her eyes on Y/n’s face. Furrowed eyebrows and quirked lips. She kissed her teeth and rolled her eyes and gazed down at Emily.

“Bold of you to assume that would have any effect on me. So what if I see a bunch of nonsensical numbers, what would I even do with that?”

“Well it should,” Emily grumbled. “This is the FBI after all.”

“It’s not like you’d turn me in.” Y/n challenged bending at the waist to bring her eyes level with Emily’s. “You won’t admit it, but you like me far too much to do that.”

“Well that’s absurd. And bold of you to believe.”

“Well, yes. Bold and correct.”

Emily glared and moved to respond but her desk phone ringing had her clamping her mouth shut. She held a finger up and answered the call and she could see Y/n heading to sit on the couch with her arms crossed. As soon as the receiver was back on the hook Y/n was reprimanding.

“See this is your problem— why are you answering your phone after hours? Who could possibly want something from you right now?”

Emily’s cheeks blazed under the scrutiny but she rolled her shoulders back and tried to speak confidently, “That was Gary from the lobby. I figured the least I could do after holding you hostage tonight would be to buy you dinner.”

“Huh,” Y/n sounded, resting on her knees thoughtfully.“How kind of you Agent Prentiss.” The younger woman replied fighting down the urge to giggle nervously as her cheeks reddened.

-

“Well thank you for dinner, that was very sweet of you.” Y/n smiled at Emily as they walked through the parking garage. Emily nodded and rubbed at the nape of her neck self-consciously. This session had definitely been different from her others and as they came to a halt in front of a car Emily couldn’t ignore how romantic the night was feeling.

“Of course, it’s the least I could do after keeping you here well past your typical hours.”

“Well I appreciate it,” Y/n said, sweeping her eyes over the older woman to assess her. “And despite the bickering in the beginning, I feel like this session was a successful one for us.”

Emily scoffed, “And how’d you get that?”

“Well I got you out of the door for the night, didn’t I? Keep this up and you might even get to move to bi-weekly meetings or maybe even monthly!” y/n smirked triumphantly.

“Yeah yeah yeah, you got lucky.” Emily rebuffed with a roll of her eyes. She fought the frown that started to take form at the mention of less sessions. Had she really changed enough that Y/n thought she didn’t need the weekly session?

“Well maybe I should go buy a lottery ticket then,” Y/n teased Emily, frowning all the same. She leaned closer, placing her hand on the outside of Emily’s arm. She squeezed at her bicep softly and let her hand trail her arm before stepping toward her car. “Alright, I’ll leave you be. Thank you again and Goodnight.”

“Goodnight.” Emily watched as the younger woman disappeared behind the wheel of her car and then turned to climb into her own vehicle. Her arm was tingling beneath her coat and her eyes were trained on the car across the lot. And as the car left she still sat. And suddenly the urge to be bad at wellness seemed oddly appealing.

[joongieology]

Muse | Jung Wooyoung

Pairing: Artist!Boyfriend!WooyoungxReader

Genre: Fluff

Word Count: 1.2k

Warning: mention of naked body

Sypnosis: Your boyfriend has been busy with his gallery, leaving you missing him. One thing you didn't know though, he had a surprise waiting for you.

Note: This is the first ever fanfic I've written. English is not my first language so please bear with me. If you have any feedback, please let me know! I swear I tried ಥ⁠‿⁠ಥ

You've been dating Wooyoung for a few years now. Everything is well, better than you could ask for, but you wish you could move on to the next stage. You've always dreamt of getting married in a church since you were a little girl. Striving hard so you can save up for a grand wedding, wanting you and your future husband's day to be extra special. And now, you finally found the man you want to marry.

You met Wooyoung through your college friend, San. You went to get coffee at your usual hangout place—a café near the university—when you saw San with someone. You proceeded to where they were sitting and San invited you to sit with them.

That was the day you met Wooyoung, and that was also the day you started liking him. He was very chatty and he always made you laugh that you started to have a little crush on him. The three of you began to hang out more often, and then one day, he asked you out. You said yes, of course (who wouldn't), and you've been dating since then.

He had always been fond of art. Painting, photography, and even sculpting. He wanted to have his own gallery one day, to show off his works, and it is about to come true.

Wooyoung found a decent place where he could set up the gallery and renovate it to his liking. He was the one who worked on everything, claiming he wanted everything to be perfect. That meant, you don't see each other often because he got busy with his gallery. He never told anyone the location, not even you, which you found a little odd, but never questioned him.

You just finished eating when he showed you something on his phone. It's a map with a picture of what looks like the outside of a gallery.

"It's done. The grand opening will be tomorrow." He started, gauging for your reaction.

"Already?! Does anyone else know about this? What if I'm the only one who shows up?" You flooded him with questions, more nervous than he is.

"Don't worry, I already sent out invitations to friends and family." He said with a chuckle while piching your cheeks, clearly amused.

You sighed, relieved that you wouldn't be the only one to witness this. You want the world to see how talented your boyfriend is, and he worked hard for everything to get to this point. Even though he said this was just a small achievement, you were still so proud of him. He can finally show off his love for art.

"You're here." Wooyoung said as he leaned in to kiss you on the cheek. You came a bit earlier than the time of the opening so you could be by his side.

"Finally, you got your own gallery. I'm so proud of you, Woo." You gave him a peck on the lips, earning you a small genuine smile from him.

You straightened the collar of his button-up and fixed his hair a bit to make him look more presentable. He smiled at you but you noticed that he looked a bit nervous. You held his hand and squeezed it, comforting him. He intertwined your fingers and guided you to the entrance.

After a while, people started to arrive one by one, family and friends, and even some random people who had taken an interest in what was happening in this new place.

Everyone was in awe at the simple yet elegant interior. The walls were off-white and the art pieces were placed perfectly. Everything is in the right place, the way they were arranged was pleasing to the eyes.

You looked around and noticed that the art pieces consisted of pictures and paintings of places very familiar to you—they were places you've been together before. There are also pictures and paintings of events that have transpired in your life. The memories came flooding in as you looked at each art piece. You looked around once more, you noticed a black screen in the middle of the gallery. It's off, what is it for? You asked yourself but brushed it off. One thing stood out though, it was a pink door leading to a room. It had its own spotlight, it also had a name on top, just like every piece here.

"Y/N." You read out loud. Why did it have your name on it? Also, why is it pink, your favorite color? And why does it have the word 'Private' beside the door?

Wooyoung was greeting everyone and thanking them for congratulating him when he noticed you looking at the pink door. He walked over to you and put his hand on your lower back.

"Wanna see what's inside?"

"Yes." You responded, curious as to what could be inside.

He took out what seemed like a remote from his pocket and pressed something on it while guiding you inside.

There were at least five of what you assumed were art pieces covered in red velvet blankets.

He removed the cover of the one on the left, revealing a painting of you grinning from ear to ear, holding a pack of your favorite gummy bear, with the name beside it, 'The most beautiful v(you).' This must've been the time he brought you your favorite snacks, that made you all excited.

Then, he removed the cover on all of them except the one in the middle. There was a picture of you sleeping, a painting of you gazing at the stars, and a sculpture of you, as in you, in your wholeness, naked body.

"Oh my god, Woo." You said, your voice small, overwhelmed with joy, and love, and—everything.

"Do you like it?" He asked, nervousness obvious in his tone.

"I love it!" You exclaimed as you hugged him.

"There's one more." He ushered you to get closer to it. When he finally removed the cover, you covered your mouth in shock.

It was a sculpture of him, on one bended knee, holding a small black velvet box. Woo took the box and copied the stance of the sculpture.

"Y/N, will you make me the luckiest man and marry me?"

It's finally happening. The man you love is proposing to you.

"You've given me all I could ever ask for. Yes, baby, I will marry you." You utter with tears in your eyes.

He carefully puts the ring on your ring finger, and yes, he bought your dream ring, he still remembers it even when you mentioned it only once, he remembered, like he always did.

He hugged you so tight you thought you would burst, and whispered, "I love you so much, my love. Thank you for everything."

"I love you more, Woo."

You went out of the room and everyone's congratulating you both.

Huh?

When your eyes caught the now turned-on screen in the middle. So that was what the remote was for.

"Woo!" You hit his arms slightly. Terrified of the thought that they must have seen the pieces inside.

"It only showed us, don't worry, I won't ever show those pieces to anyone, especially that one." He chuckled while jokingly shielding himself from your playful hit.

"Finally, Woo, you prepared so long for this. Congratulations." San said with a big smile, holding a glass of wine.

"You knew?" You asked San with one eyebrow raised.

"Yup, everyone knew, except you." He uttered with slight amusement in his tone.

Wooyoung sure knew how to throw surprises because you didn't expect this one bit. But you're happy he did, cause this became one of the best days in your life. The thought of marrying this man made you giddy.

Your mom hugged you and gave you a kiss on the cheek.

"I'm quite curious to know what's inside that." Your mom said, pointing at the pink door.

You and your fiancé looked at each other with knowing eyes and a huge grin.

[tkpuke]

jayvik with 16/lee!vik?

Jayce + Viktor - 16. “Put the book down and pay attention to me!”

The sound of chalk harshly hitting against a blackboard kept repeating, Viktor drawing a equation that took half the space in a hurried manner as if the ideas flowing in his head would vanish any second before he could write the rest down. Viktor was deep in thought, having spent around three hours already in the lab alone. No distractions so far, which he was thankful for.

Until the door swung open.

Jayce comes in, immediately taking a seat while dramatically running his hands through his hair; an anxious habit. “I need to rant real quick.” He starts, but Viktor only glances once and keeps writing away. “It’s this upcoming speech,” he fetches something nearby to fiddle with. “I’m so nervous I can’t even think straight. I don’t even have a speech prepared!”

“Mmm.” Is all Viktor responds with, now taking a little step back to view his work so far. Something’s missing. He grabs a book that was on standby the entire time, flipping through the pages to see what went wrong with his equation.

“I don’t know how much Insight I should give the people about Hextech and its potential. Will it scare them? Will it bring hope?”

“uh huh.” Viktor says again, but he wasn’t truly listening. He has been too caught up on what he’s currently doing, it’s impossible for him to drop it all suddenly and put full attention on anything else. Don’t get him wrong, Viktor deeply appreciates that Jayce comes to him for advice or just to be a shoulder he can lean on, but right now wasn’t a good time. Jayce seems to be a little slow on picking that up, though.

The man sighs, resting his cheek on his palm. “I really wish you could be up there with me, Viktor. I know you already declined but it would’ve put me a lot at ease, y’know?” Silence was all he was met with. He could hear the wall clock ticking, pages being flipped and a occasional chalk meeting the blackboard, but no reply from Viktor. The only sound he was looking forward to hearing.

Jayce finally looks over, seeing Viktor’s nose buried deep in a book. This entire time was he just being ignored? Annoyance starts to fuel Jayce’s entire body, making him stand up to creep over to Viktor quietly. He doesn’t even hear him, of course, his mind somewhere else.

Viktor’s racing thoughts suddenly ripped away from him by a hand placing tiny squeezes on his side. The book was dropped, Viktor grabbing onto Jayce’s wrist tightly but not doing much to push it away.

“Put the book down and pay attention to me!” Jayce nearly pouts as a joke, still squeezing away on Viktor’s side while his other hand supports his back so he won’t fall from all the helpless squirming. “Wahait! Stohohop, I wahahas!” He shakes his head in the midst of all the squirming, loose hair strands starting to almost cover his eyes. Jayce stops abruptly but with the hand still there, almost like a warning.

“Then what was I talking about?” Jayce clearly sees Viktor trying to mentally recall, his silence speaking volumes. “uhm….err…” Viktor hesitantly looks up at him, who stared back unamused. Then, the tickling started back up again.

“It’s not looking good for you, Viktor. Maybe this will jog up your memory? Worth a shot, right?” The squeezes started to intentionally get lower, Jayce evilly seeking out for that bad spot: the hips.

And Viktor knows this. Hence why hitting weakly at Jayce’s chest, trying to signal a tap out. “noHO!—JAHAYCE!” He pretty much squeaks, cheeks slightly flushing from embarrassment. Viktor absolutely hates the sounds he makes whenever he gets tickled silly, but if you ask Jayce?

He adores them.

“That is my name.” Jayce answers innocently, honing in on just that spot. At this point, he doesn’t even care if Viktor had actually listened to him or not. At first, this was for the sole purpose of a bit of fun revenge. Although it always finishes out to be Jayce wanting to just hear his partner laugh like there’s no tomorrow, his reactions so priceless. How can someone not enjoy tickling a person that scrunches up their nose when you target there, or squeaks like a mouse when you tickle here?

It would’ve gone on for a few more minutes if Viktor didn’t bump against the blackboard in the midst of all his squirming, accidentally erasing some of the equation he had written. They both halt; Vitkor staring at the half erased problem in disbelief and Jayce staring because he’s about to get scolded by him any second, which is not a pretty sight.

But Viktor didn’t scold. He instead slowly turned, faces so close they can feel each other’s breath hit their skin. What Jayce failed to see from the corner of his eye was Viktor starting to flex his fingers.

“You’re going to pay for that.”

[bonbonly]

bon's thoughts (18+) a/n: anonsss i see your messages in my ask box, i might take a break from answering them cuz i got other... interesting thoughts LMFAO college!au daniel ricciardo who's partnered up with you for group project. only problem is that he's not doing any of his work. all he ever does is say something cheeky, wink at you and walk away to hang out with his friends. you hate him. you hate the way he sits next to you in class even though he knows you hate him, but he does it on purpose because he likes to see your reaction. you hate that he's always glancing at your answers when you're taking a test, and then boasting about how smart he is outside of the lecture hall. he never turns in his work, never texts you if he's done his part of a powerpoint and certainly doesn't respond when you're calling him at 3 in the morning, crying about how you need him to finish his slide or else you're going to get a bad grade because of him.

he always chooses you because he knows no matter what, you'll end up finishing his slides. and he merely is trying to finish inside you. he watches you cross your arms, bite your lips and frown when he's presenting to the other students. you're always unhappy with what he's doing, and he wants to see you with a smile on your face.

"a smile wouldn't hurt you know" he leans close to you to whisper into your ear. the both of you are at the library, sitting in the small cafe as you're editing your slide. you frown at him,

"you finish your slides and then i'll smile. we have to rehearse this before tomorrow. you wanna meet up somewhere this evening?" you ask.

"i'm busy this evening. what about at night? 1 am at the basketball court?" daniel asks and you scowl,

"that's across campus for me! and i know you're just gonna play basketball and not let me practice. why are you always my partner, i just don't get it, you're useless!" but you still agree, because it's either the basketball court, or no rehearsal at all.

you press record on your phone, because you like to record all your practice sessions, and you take a step back. your laptop's on the bleachers, and daniel walks over. he's sweating, having played basketball until you showed up, and he smiles at you. you don't reciprocate and roll your eyes, telling him to get started.

"remember, it's a presentation about pain vs pleasure. you need to be careful with what you say. i included extra examples on your slide, like cutting your finger on accident, and getting a good grade on your test. cuz you know serotonin is-" your words are tuned out of his mind, he's focusing on the part where you said pain vs. pleasure and he has a wicked idea in his head. he nods, contorting his face to look like he's deep in thought and listening to you intently. he takes off his cap and tosses it to the side before winking at you,

"i got this don't worry." and he turns to face the camera. surprisingly, he's doing well. very well, and that doesn't sit right with you. he never is this prepared, and the entire time you're staring at him with a look of shock. he turns to you with clasped hands, "may i perform a demonstration?"

and you're nodding your head, "of course, of course!" because you think he's being very serious and composed, you'll do anything as long as he's finally listening to you for once. he nods his head, standing behind you, and almost immediately he yanks your top up just enough for your tits to spill out and he watches them jiggle in front of the camera. the cold air of the night makes your nipples harden and as you're gasping in shock at what he's doing, he roughly takes your nipples in his hands and twists them, causing you to cry out.

"that's pain," he glances at the camera, before kneeling in front of you. he takes your areola in his mouth and begins to suck, rubbing your other nipple with his thumb. you let out a really quiet moan, a hand coming to grab the curls in his hair and he tears his mouth away from you juicy tit with a pop! "and that's pleasure!"

he crawls over to where your phone is and stops the recording, and glances back at you, leaning on his elbow with smile, "should we do some more rehearsals?"

and you're nodding your head like crazy.

[purplephantomwolf]

Savoring the Finish Line

Chapter Six

Synopsis: You are a bakery owner. One day Max Verstappen comes into your bakery.

Note: This is not an accurate portrayal of how the real people in this act. I do not know them personally, so I will not be portraying them accurately.

Warnings: Panic attack mention

Previous Chapter: Chapter Five

Masterlist

March 20, 2022

     “Y/n, what are you still doing here?” Christian appears in front of you. 

     “Waiting for Max. He wanted to drive me home after the race,” you yawn, stretching. 

     “We just finished our debrief meeting, so he should be up soon,” Christian claps you on the shoulder. 

     “Thank you, Christian. Have a good night,” you nod, as he leaves the hospitality. 

     You only have to wait a couple of minutes before Max appears. “Bonjour, Max,” you say, as he approaches you. 

     “Hi, Y/n,” he says, dejected. You frown at his response. 

     “What’s wrong?” You stand up, grabbing your bag. You start walking to his car. 

     “I’m sorry about the race; I wanted to give you a good one to watch,” he sighs. 

     “Max,” you start, giving him a stern look. “You did give me a good race. You did amazing today,” you tell him. 

     “But I got a dnf,” he protests. You grab his arm to stop and turn him towards you. 

    “Max, you were in podium position until your car had issues. It is not your fault you got a dnf,” you firmly say. He gives you a sad look, and you shake your head. “I still had so much fun this weekend. I don’t care that you had a dnf. I am still thankful you invited me,” you tell him as you arrive at his car. He looks surprised when you say you don’t care that he has a dnf. 

     “Thank you, Y/n,” he says, opening the door for you. 

     You slide in, replying with a “I didn’t do anything to be thanked for.” Max climbs into his side of the car and you drive in silence for a couple minutes. 

     “I’m thinking of hiring another baker so that I can take time off and not have to close the bakery. This is my first time taking time off since I opened it,” you think aloud, trying to fill the silence. 

     Max glances at me, “Oh? I think that would be an excellent idea. You must be exhausted from working every day.”

     You sigh, nodding. You rest my head against the window of his car, the vibration of the car lulling you to sleep. 

************************************************************************

     “Y/n,” you hear your name and feel your body gently shake. 

    “Huh?” You hum, slowly waking up. You rub your eyes, looking around. 

     “We’re at your hotel,” Max smiles at you. 

     “Oh, thank you,” you yawn. You grab my bag and turn to Max. “Thank you for everything this weekend. I won’t ever forget a moment of it,” you thank him. 

     “Of course, thank you for helping me through my panic attack. I don’t know how I would’ve calmed down otherwise,” Max smiles gently. 

     “Of course, I’ll help you anytime you need it. Have a good night, Max,” you say, going to climb out of his car. 

     “You leave tomorrow, right?” He rushes his question out. You turn to him, nodding. “Okay, then I guess the next time I see you will be back in Monaco. Good night, Y/n,” he smiles.

     “Good night, Max,” you climb out of his car, waving to him. You head into the hotel and up to your room. 

      You fall onto your bed, letting out a happy sigh. You pull out your phone to call Louis and Estelle. The phone rings a couple of times before someone picks up. 

     “Bonjour, Y/n!” Louis greets you. 

     “Bonjour, Louis!” you reply. 

     “Tell me about the race! How was Max afterwards?” Louis inquires. 

     “Oh, the race was amazing. Watching the cars fly past was so cool. We’re definitely going to have to go to Monaco this year. Max was hard on himself, he wanted to give me a good race to watch, and getting a dnf is not what he wanted,” You sigh, recalling how Max was acting, “I told him that he did give me a good race to watch and it’s not his fault he got a dnf.”

     “Good, hopefully he won’t be too hard on himself now,” Louis hums. 

     “I hope not, but he probably will be,” you say. Louis makes a sound of agreement. You let out a yawn. “I should go to bed. It’s late here, and I have a flight to catch tomorrow,” you tell Louis. 

     “Bon nuit, Y/n. We’ll see you tomorrow,” Louis responds. You wish him a good night and hang up the phone. You go through your nightly routine and climb into bed, quickly falling asleep. 

************************************************************************

March 21, 2022

     You deboard the plane, heading for baggage claim. Gathering your things from the carousel, you look for Louis and Estelle. You spot them quickly and head towards them. 

     “Welcome home, cherie. How was the flight?” Louis asks, taking your baggage from you. 

     “How were Lacey and Elise?” You ask, heading for the parking lot. 

     “They were angels. They’re super excited to see you,” Estelle informs you. You let out a little laugh, nodding. 

     “I’m sure, this is the longest I’ve been away from them. Probably missing their mama a whole bunch,” you say. You approach Louis’ car and climb in. “Thank you for picking me up.” 

      “Of course, dear,” Estelle says. You guys head for your apartment and bakery. 

     Pulling into your bakery parking lot, you can spot your dogs staring out from the upstairs window. You laugh and climb out. “Thank you again for the ride. I’ll see you guys tomorrow morning,” you say, giving both of them kisses on the cheek. 

     “Of course, amour. We’ll see you tomorrow,” Louis says. You wave goodbye as they pull away from the bakery. 

     Once they’re out of sight, you head into the bakery. Scaling the stairs, you can hear your puppies scratching at the door. “I’m here, I’m here,” you coo, opening the door. “Hello, my loves. Did you miss your mama?” You talk to them like they can actually answer you. After greeting them and petting them for five minutes, you head to your bedroom to put up your luggage. 

     As you’re putting the last of your things away, your phone rings. Max’s name flashes across the screen, bringing a grin to your face. “Hello, Max,” you answer the phone. 

     “Hello, Y/n. Did you make it home without any trouble?” Max asks you. 

     “I did. I’m home and I just finished putting everything away. Did you make it to Saudi Arabia alright?” You ask him, falling into bed. 

     You hear shuffling on the other end of the phone and a door close. “I did, I just got back to my hotel after dinner with the team,” Max responds. 

     “Oh, sounds fun. Are you expecting a good weekend from the car?” You inquire. 

      “It’s looking better than last weekend. We replaced some parts and it’s looking better,” Max answers you. 

      “Oh good, I’m glad. I’m excited to see you win. I’ll be cheering from home,” you tell him. 

     “I’ll win this race for you,” Max informs you. You let out a little giggle. 

     “Okay, sounds good,” you blush and kick your feet excitedly. You suddenly get hit with a wave of tiredness. “I think I’m going to sleep, Max. I’ll text you when I wake up tomorrow, if you’d like?” You shyly ask him. 

      “I’d love that,” he answers.

      “Okay, I’ll do that then.” You wish him a good night and hang up. You crawl under the covers and your pups join you in bed. The flight wore you out, so you’re asleep in seconds. 

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

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[spdrvyn]

YOU'RE HERE, THAT'S THE THING — [ wc: 1.7k. college au. fluff-ish? ] nothing cute about uni life. nothing to romanticize about pulling off all-nighters. unless... ?

now that i think about this is the first miguel fic i've written that's not adjacent with spiderverse canon world-building wise 🤔 also kinda silly of me to write a college fic when i'm not even in college so be warned i'll sound probably like a dumbass but hope you guys enjoy anyway!

7:23PM in the evening. Twenty hours until your essay was due.

The blonded hues of the setting sun reflected onto your laptop’s screen, currently open with a completely blank Google Document and nary a draft or outline in sight. As the ice in your half-empty coffee had almost thoroughly melted, you realized that you were completely fucked.

Originally, there was a study group that you were intended on joining somewhere at the start of the week. Hell, you guys shared Notion calendars and made an entire group chat. Only when you courageously sent a message last night asking for a rain check on the plans, you were left on read and down one-hundred dignity points.

That’s how you ended up here, waiting for the adrenaline from the impending deadline to set in. The condensation from your drink wets your palm uncomfortably as you take a sad, bitter sip. Someone could be writing a story about your defeat, writing a ten-page analysis about it, and submitting it at least three days before the deadline like a normal person with a sense of urgency.

When you shut your laptop and concede to the pressure, Miguel walks in to your shared dorm. With thick textbooks and an open backpack slung over one of his shoulders, he pauses at the sight of you. “I thought you’d be out.”

The reminder that your group abandoned you sours your mood even more, you tersely reply: “They ghosted me.”

“Oh,” Miguel tries to sound sympathetic, but it’s obvious that he’s also struggling with a final of some kind with how he ushers all of his belongings to the table you’re currently occupying. He’s told you before that he rarely ever joins study groups, which makes sense. You’ve noticed he’s self-reliant and efficient to an almost terrifying degree when it comes to his academics, awake at ungodly hours of the night to pinch the highest grade that there is. If anything, it’s more likely that he’ll offer to tutor other people.

“What’s on your roster for tonight? I’ve got an essay,” You swiftly put on your document tab again, motivated by how he’s already flipping through his books and copying down notes on his tablet. God, you wished you could just start studying like that.

“Final tomorrow, haven’t started reviewing yet. I basically spent the last two days at the lab for my other final.” He’s writing at a speed that should be considered superhuman, all while he’s answering your pesky questions.

You don’t want to move to another spot, because it would seem rude. Not like his presence is unwelcome, his studiousness just makes you really, really envious. Also the fact that both of you are majoring in completely different subjects.

Majoring in Arts in Literature, while he majors in Genetic Engineering can cause difficulty whenever explaining plans to each other. Miguel puts in the effort to not confuse you with the STEM jargon while you try not to ramble about your current readings and explaining your interpretations of them to someone else instead of writing them down on paper to, you know, submit.

Either way, it hasn’t caused any big miscommunications with being so different and all. You hope he doesn’t mind you beginning to working with him too, as you shyly type a thesis statement into your assignment. Another sip of your coffee, sounds of Miguel scrawling, and you think you may be ready to take this assignment head-on.

~

12:40AM into the night. Fifteen hours until your essay is due.

Shockingly enough, you were able to finish three pages out of five. The grammar so far is probably going to drag you down by fifteen points and you usually send it to your friends to proofread, but it clearly isn’t an option given what time of the day it is right now. It’s still a lot better than the end you saw for yourself when you were left dangling on the edge of failure by your study group.

The caffeine had completely worn off by now, and your coffee had been drained somewhere around an hour ago. When that happens, you usually start to get antsy and it’s even harder to keep the momentum going and when that happens, you take a break and go for a walk or something.

Which is what you’re about to do, as you stand up, but you realize that Miguel is sitting still as a statue in front of one of his books and his eyes scan the words on the page, over and over again. You can’t tell if he’s also losing focus or if he’s knee-deep in focus.

“Miguel,” He sighs when you call his name and the noise makes you wince, fearing that you’ve upset him. “Uhm, I’m going to take a walk. Do you wanna come with?”

It’s an offer that you thought for sure he wasn’t going to take.

What you don’t expect however is for him to slam his reading shut, adjusting the glasses on the bridge of his nose before getting up from his seat. With a huff of, “Sure.”

“Oh- we can go for a coffee run if that’s what you want. I don’t think I can sleep tonight.”

“Ok. Me neither.”

“Great, that’s- that’s great.”

~

Both of you stew in the (semi) comfortable silence as you make the trek from your dorm room and out to the expanse of the campus.

You realize how brisk a walk can become with Miguel considering how abnormally tall he is. Granted, you recognize his subtle effort to slow down for you when he notices how winded you got after only five minutes on the way to the gas station.

It’s a new height that you’ve reached with him, not like you never wanted to grow closer with him or anything. He is your roommate after all, so it only makes sense. Although despite your love for reading that has fender-bendered into a Literature degree in the making, you were never too great at reading people. Miguel is one of the hardest people to read considering his outward stoicism, and both of you being naturally introverted didn’t help at all.

Still, this was the perfect time in your life to make new friends and life-lasting connections. Besides you would also consider yourself pretty pathetic if you wouldn’t be able to make a new one out of your roommate, A.K.A someone who is confined to a room with you for a whole school year. Literally no other choice but to do so.

You wonder if he feels the same way too, but asking each other of your first impressions is a conversation that is really only befitting for people that have been together for years. A status that you have no idea that you’ll ever achieve with him someday.

Though you are quickly broken out of your kind of depressing spiral when Miguel opens the door to the store for you, with a muttered ‘thank you’ you behold the fluorescent lights and hint of smoke. The walk to the coffee machine is instinctive, and you pluck a bag of spicy chips from the shelf on the way. Miguel follows suit, only he picks a bag of pretzels and a pack of gum.

The dispenser chokes out a splatter of coffee into your plastic cup and you flinch at the noise, Miguel spares you a glance but goes back to fidgeting with the pointed edges of his pretzel bag.

“So, what’s your final about?” It’s a stupid question being completely transparent, but fuck it. You’re bored, and the silence only gets more uncomfortable the longer both of you keep quiet.

“Genetic inheritance, the traits passed down from a parent onto a child. That kind of thing,” He muses. “And you?”

“Oh, Les Miserables essay. Five pages total.”

“Long book, and long film.”

Your cup is nearly on the tip of overflowing so you quickly slide it out and put one under for Miguel. “Yeah, I had to do a re-read because it’s been a while. I only finished around two days ago and I started it again at the beginning of the month.”

He gives you an honest chuckle, you take it and you think you’ll remember the sound forever. “One of my, uh, friends sat me down to watch the movie. Fell asleep halfway through, but I do remember it being decent in the parts that I was awake.”

“Well if I can find a totally legal recording of the stage play, maybe that would pique your interest more.”

When you look up at him, he smiles and it might be the happiest you’ve seen him ever since becoming acquainted with each other. It’s not a lot, but you feel over the moon over a small talk about your stupid essay.

…Your stupid essay!

You cut the moment short by haphazardly closing the lids on both of your coffees, you hand it to Miguel who starts to emanate your hurried energy and the walk back to your dorm is very swift.

~

Morning. Some time before your essay is due.

That is what you can assume anyway, the sun is back and its rays peek at you from the gaps in the blinds. Your hair is a frazzled mess as you lift your head off of the pillow which is perched up against the armrest on the sofa, the blanket on top of you shifts, and this was also… definitely not where you fell asleep last night.

You were expecting neck and back pain, along with a mild headache once you woke up. As you came to the sloppy completion of your work, you called it a night, slammed your laptop shut, and decided to just sleep right then and there. Doing your night routine and getting into bed would simply be too much time and work when you probably wouldn’t even be getting that much rest anyway.

There’s a fresh glass of water on the coffee table and a sticky note from Miguel, who you could only assume was the one who put you here.

‘Had to head out early for my exam. Good luck with your essay, there’s food on the counter.’

You slump back into your makeshift bed and pull out your phone from your back pocket, there’s still seven hours until your essay is due and you only need around two for revisions.

Maybe you could sleep in just a little longer, dream about conversations that will never happen, cafe dates that never come to be. But after last night, rather earlier this morning, those odds shift in your favor.

[justmeinadaze]

Kai (Part of the I'm In Control Universe)(Steddie X You)

A/N: I told you I was working on this :). This is literally pure fluff. Just Steddie being dads. This is a mix of some conversations followers and I have had about these two in this universe mixed with some asks.

Please Enjoy <3

Warning: Part of this universe

No smut, very light angst, mentions of readers uber religious parents and wishing they accepted her and her family. Their son gets sick so mentions of a simple surgery, baby boy has a nightmare and Steve soothe <3. Like I said...Just straight pure unadulterated fluff.

Word Count: 2957

Donate to me <3

“Hey, little man. Oh my goodness, that’s a big yawn.”, Steve coos as he finishes carefully putting on his newborn son’s diaper while you and Eddie were passed out on the living room couch. “Alright, buddy, there we go. Oh, oh, oh, I know.”

As the little boy grunts in what Steve perceives as annoyance, he places him against his bare chest and softly bounces him a bit as he heads towards the patio doors to look out at the morning sun just barely peaking over the water across the beach. 

“It’s a beautiful view, huh? Your mommy loves the beach. When your daddy and I were looking for a nice, big house, we knew we wanted something near the water. Your name means water…or sea rather…in Hawaiian. Kai. We took mama there for our sudo-honeymoon and she had so much fun swimming. The tour guide told us that and she thought it was a gorgeous name. We did to, buddy. Yeah we did.”, he grins. “Kai Matthew Munson-Harrington.”

Placing his palm on the back of the boy’s head, Steve tilted down to kiss his forehead and inhale is baby smell that you pointed out all the time.

“I love you so much.”

The man’s smile grew when Kai shifted, nuzzling a bit more into his neck. 

His father took that as a silent “I love you to, dad.”

***

“Whenever we dream, that's when we fly So here is a dream for just you and I.”

Eddie sings softly as he holds the bottle to the baby’s lips as his son looks up at him with wide eyes as if hanging on his every word. 

“Oh, here we see the wizard staring through the glass And he's pointing right at you Now you can see tomorrow, the answer and the lie And the things you've got to do, yeah.

Okay, dude. You all done? Yeah?”

After placing the bottle beside him on the table, the metalhead tosses the rag over his shoulder and carefully positions Kai over it before firmly patting his back the way the doctors showed them. With a couple more pats, a strong but subtle burp escaped the baby’s lips making Eddie laugh like a little kid. 

“Good job, buddy. That was a burp that can only be rivaled by your mother.”, he teased as he brought the boy back down so he could look at his little face and wipe his mouth. “Don’t tell her I said that.”

Kai’s big eyes continued to run over his father’s face while Eddie continued to talk absently. 

“I can play that song you know. ‘Sacred Heart’. Wanna hear daddy play it?” The metalhead beamed as the baby cooed and he careful rose to his feet to place him in his little lean back rocking chair. 

Grabbing his guitar and sitting in front of him, Eddie began slowly strumming the tune, smirking when Kai flinched in surprise at the noise before waiting for his father to do it again. He granted his wish and began to fully play while keeping his own eyes on his son as his fingers played what he knew by heart. 

“Oh, sometimes you never fall And, ah, you're the lucky one But, oh, sometimes you want it all You've got to reach for the sun.”

The boy kicked his feet excitedly as Eddie continued, beaming with pride that his son enjoyed hearing him play. 

***

Steve snapped a picture from behind your brother’s shoulder as he jumped up from behind the sofa causing a four-month-old Kai to laugh uncontrollably while you held him up with his feet balancing on your knees. 

“Where’s Matthew? Where did Matthew go, baby?” 

Your son looked around including at his dad to find his answer but jumped in your grasp when his uncle seemingly popped up out of nowhere before cackling.

“Boo!”

“Oh my goodness!” 

Kai collapsed into your chest as he continued to giggle while Matthew sighed happily, coming around to sit beside you both. 

The front door opened as Eddie came through and placed his things by the door. 

“Hey, baby. How was recording?”

“It went pretty good. We just have a few more songs to run through. Hey, Matt—”

“Hello, darling.”, your brother cut him off. 

The metalhead playfully glared his way before coming around to kiss you and the baby in your arms. 

“Little miss and little dude.”

Kai smiled and pointed towards Eddie who got the message as he took his son from your grasp. Seeing Steve outside, he opened the backdoor and you smirked as you watched the three boys you loved interact.

“I can’t tell.”

“Can’t tell what?”, you ask.

“I can’t tell whose genes he has. Can you?” When you shake your head, he gently swats at your thigh. “Liar.”

“I’m not lying. I just…I have a feeling but I don’t know for sure and honestly it doesn’t matter. They are both Kai’s father.”

Matthew grins as he playfully wraps his arm around you and pulls you closer so he can kiss the top of your head. 

“I, um, I did what you asked… Sent mom and dad a picture of Kai.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Dad’s reply was the calmest of course.”

“What did he say?”, you whisper already prepared for the answer.

“He said…your son is beautiful and has a cute smile. That…he can’t wait to meet him one day and that you are going to be a wonderful mother.”

Curling further into his side, you beam up at him with tears glistening in your eyes. 

“Liar.”

***

“Dada.”

Steve grins at the sound of his eighteen-month-old while continuing to flip through his camera’s settings without looking up. 

“Hey Kai. Did you and mommy have fun visiting TJ?”

“Ma…Mama…”

“Oh my God, Y/N, look how big he’s gotten!”, Avery squeals from his spot the other man had placed him in within his studio under the lights. 

“I know! My baby.”, you whine as you hug him closer before placing him on his feet and holding his little palm to guide him towards your friend. “How are you two doing? Get some good shots for the article?”

Your former client grins wide as he opens his arms and you let your son go to waddle his way. With a big hug, he lifts him into the air as the man you love snaps a quick picture. 

“Oh yeah. ‘Diamond Studio’s most successful owner.’ My mom was incredibly proud.”, he beams.

Steve glances your way just in time to see your eyes fall before you softly smile and praise your friend. 

“Alright Av, I think I got everything here. I’ll send them to the editor of the magazine and they’ll choose from there.”

“Thank you so much, Steve. I really appreciate you doing this.”

“Thank YOU for recommending me.”, he chuckles as he watches him hand Kai back to you.

“You should go visit TJ and ask him how he enjoyed his visit with his grandson.”, you tease as you playfully widen your eyes. “Oh yeah. He called him grandpa and I about died.”

As soon as the boy left, Steve came over to kiss your forehead before guiding you on to his set.

“Dada.”

“Yes, my love. That’s dada.”, you encourage as the man brushes some of his son’s hair from his face. 

Backing away slowly, Steve knelt down and balanced his elbow on his knee as he took a photo.

“What’s running through your mind, pretty girl?”

When you heavily sigh, Kai’s big eyes scan over your face as you smile down at him and his father takes another picture. 

“I know it’s silly but…Avery’s parents understood when he came out and explained to them what he did for a living. I just wish…”

“…your parents understood to.”, Steve finished for you and you nod. “That’s not silly, babe. For you both, you and Kai, I wish they weren’t so stubborn but that’s not your fault. They are missing out on so many amazing experiences including getting to know their grandson.”

Your eyes closed as your trembling lips kissed the baby’s forehead and Steve’s camera clicked. 

While messing with the settings, he came over to where you were and showed you the last picture he took. 

“This right here is one of the many things Eddie and I love about you, honey. In this one photo, I see a beautiful woman and mother who would do anything for her son because she loves him with all her heart. A heart that isn’t closed off and closed minded. A heart that loved two stubborn assholes and helped us grow into who we are now. We wouldn’t be where we are today without you, baby. Neither would half the people you employ and watch over like Avery. If they can’t see that, Y/N, then fuck em.”

Steve pulls you to his chest as you begin to cry but little hands pushing at you both elicit a small laugh. As you lean back, his tiny palms touch your cheeks as Kai pouts out his lips and lightly headbutts you as he tries to kiss your forehead.

***

Eddie holds his two-year-old son to his chest as you three wait for the doctor to come back with the results. Kai fusses in his sleep causing the metalhead to make sure he was alright as he continued to pet his head. 

“You don’t think they gave him too much medication, do you?”

“Eddie—"

“He’s just really little, Y/N, and that was a big shot of liquid. What if they gave him too much—”

“Baby, it’s ok. He’s ok.”, you comfort as you rise to your feet to sit beside him. “They said it would bring down his fever and help with the pain. At least he’s finally sleeping.”

“Alright, family, thank you for waiting. It looks like little Kai does have another ear infection so Miss Y/L/N, we’ll move forward with what we talked about with putting tubes in his ears. It’s a short surgery—”

“Surgery? It’s that bad that he needs surgery?”, Eddie interrupted. 

“It’ll be extremely fast, at most thirty minutes, and once we’re done you can take him home. We put him under and insert the tubes to drain the fluid—”

“Put him under? I thought you said it was short but you have to put him under? Isn’t he too little for that?”

“Eddie, baby, he’ll be ok. This will help him in the long run so he won’t be in pain.”, you try to soothe as you rest your head on his shoulder. 

“Can we be in there with him?”, Steve asks.

“Of course, but, um, we only allow, um, two…”

“Ok, let us know when everything is ready.”

After the doctor leaves, the pretty boy places himself in front of you with a big smile. 

“You two stay with him and I’ll wait here for him to come back. Maybe I can see if they’ll let me start signing paperwork so we can leave as soon as possible.”

“Steve—”

“I think it would be good for them both for you to be in there, baby.”, he whispers making you smile as well as you two glance the metalhead’s way as he hugs Kai tighter. 

“I just hate him being in pain. If I could take it all away and feel it for him I would.”

Gently running your fingers through his hair, you tilt up to kiss his cheek. 

“That’s one of the many reasons why you are an amazing father.”

***

A three-year-old Kai taps Steve’s arm rousing the man from a sound sleep. 

“Hm…wha…hey, hey, buddy. What’s going on? Are you ok?”

“I had a bad dream.”

“You had a bad dream? Ok.”, the man groans as he pulls back the covers and allows the boy to climb in beside him who giggles lightly when he wraps his strong arm around him to flip him over to face you and Eddie. “Do you want to tell me about your nightmare?”

Your son takes in the sight in front of him, you asleep with the metalhead’s own limps circled tightly around you. 

“I-I can’t find mommy.”

“She’s right there, honey.”, Steve answer groggily as he lazily points towards you. 

“No…in my dream…mommy gone.”

The man’s eyes fully open as he glances down to take in Kai’s nervous features as he reaches for your hand that on impulse you hold. 

“Mommy would never leave you, bud. She loves you so much.” He nods but Steve still sees the slight hesitancy as his dream plays through his expressive little eyes. “Did you know daddy and I lost mommy once? Not because she left or disappeared but because we were stupid.”

Kai’s head turned to look at his father, fully enthralled as he waited for him to continue. 

“Yeah, we thought we were protecting her so daddy and I left.”

“How can you keep mommy safe if you weren’t there?”

Steve chuckles lightly and through the darkness he notices Eddie smirk as well. 

“That’s a good question, little man. Like I said, we were stupid. But…we realized our mistake and did everything we could to get mommy back. We realized that she loved us dorks for who we are and just wanted to be there for us. We were terrified to let her in but when we finally did it was the best thing we ever did.”

“Why?”

“Because we love her and…”, he pauses as he kisses the boy’s forehead. “…we love you. You two are the best things to ever happen to daddy and me. We’d never let anyone hurt you or mommy. No one is going to take her away and no matter what the three of us will be here for you, Kai.”

The boy’s head turns as you sigh in your sleep before jostling you slightly as he crawls between you and Eddie’s arms to curl up against your chest. 

“Everything ok, baby?”, you mumble when you feel his hair brush against your chin. 

“I love you, mommy.”

“I love you to, honey.”

Steve watches with a smile as you kiss the back of your son’s head and you both drift off to sleep. 

***

“Hey, Y/N? Can we talk, baby?”

“Uh oh.”, you joke as your eyes meet your four-year-olds across the lunch table and he giggles your way. 

“Get out of here, butthead, so we can talk to mommy.”, Eddie jests before helping the boy to his feet and you three watch as he scurries to the tv in the living room.

“Is everything ok?”

“Yeah, yeah, little miss, of course.”, Steve begins as they both sit on either side of you. “We wanted to talk to you about our careers when it comes to porn. We, um, we were thinking about retiring.”

Your eyes widen in slight surprise as your gaze shifts to the other boy who nods at his friend’s statement. 

“Ok, may I ask why?”

“Kai.”, Eddie answers as he leans forward to take your hand in his. “We’ve been doing this for a little over ten years? I think. Because of porn, we were able to find you and have the best life we could ever dream of, sweetheart. Now we want to focus on him and something he can be a part of. I love bringing him to the studio with me and seeing him light up when I play or sing.”

“I like bringing him to our shoots. He talks to everyone and sometimes during sessions they’ll ask if I can take a couple with him. He’ll strike a pose and it’s so cute. I love being able to do that with him.”

You smile softly as you glance towards your son who laughs at something he sees on the television as he jumps up and down, clapping his hands. 

“I understand. I’m not sure what you have to do or if I have to do anything. I’ve never had a client retire. I’ll call TJ later and ask him.”

“Are you alright, baby?”

“Yeah, no, I’m fine. It’s just kind of weird, you know? You were my first clients and technically my last ones. It’s like…a part of my career is fully retiring to.”

“But look at where you are, sweetheart. You own your own agency and manage agents who take care of so many clients the same way you did. Avery owns a whole fucking studio and was in a magazine praising how amazing he is. Steve is a rockstar in the photography field and always booked up. We’re about to release an album that people already seem excited for which is so surreal to me.”, Eddie laughs and your grin his way. 

“None of that would have been possible without you.”

“Mommy?”, Kai calls as he runs up to your side and rubs your arm as you try to quickly wipe your tears. “Why you make mommy cry!?”

Both boys laugh lightly as you lift him off the floor and sit him in front of you on the table. 

“It’s happy tears, baby, I swear. Daddy and dada were just…being too sweet to me…”

“Don’t…don’t they always?”

“Yeah, they do.”, you grin as you kiss his forehead.

“Hey, can I get one of those?”, Steve jests as he stands, leaning towards you as he tries to kiss your lips but Kai’s little palm stops him as he tries to push him away.

“MY mommy! You don’t get kisses, dada.”

“Pfft like you can stop us.”, Eddie jokes, suddenly beside you as he hastily kisses your cheek before running towards the living room. 

“HEY!”, he shouts, climbing off you to chase after him.

You and Steve smile as he kisses your other cheek and follows both boys out the back door towards the beach. 

##############

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[bekolxeram]

I was reading a lot of fics about Tommy discovering Buck's new found stress baking habit post reunion, then this cringy idea popped into my mind. Now you get to suffer with me.

NSFW-ish

Lukewarm water, 360 grams. Honey, 10 grams. Dry yeast, 7 grams. Mix. Flour, 5… wait, no, wrong flour. Where’s my god damn bread flour? When was the last time I made bread? Oh yes, last month, right before Tommy and I got back together, it should be around… Ah, there, found it! No...

No!

Don’t get sentimental now, there’s no place for melancholy tonight.

“Sexy thoughts. Sexy thoughts.” Buck mutters to himself, desperately trying to stop his wandering mind from ruining his mood.

Think of Tommy. Hot, sexy, pilot.

The cyclic looks so small in his big yet surgically precise hand. It almost seems like he’s telepathically flying the chopper with his mind, not with his strong, steady arm. His fingers are long enough to engulf the control stick completely and more, sometimes he has to twist his wrist around just to flick the top… uh… the button on top.

He can feel the fabric of his sweatpants straining against his hip. The tight cotton shirt he picked out especially for the night feels extra tight around his rapidly warming skin. Good, it seems like his tactic is working.

And his pecs… that time when he wore nothing but his flight suit, umm... They’re so fun to play with, squeeze them, bite them, lick them, sleep on them, make them bounce. I don’t need to “explore” to be sure how much I love them. It’s not even about gender, I know a good pair when I see one.

Stop. No. He’s apologized. I’ve apologized. We’re all good.

It feels like all we do these days is to apologize, then have make up sex. Not saying it’s not good sex, but I want that light, fun sex we used to have, before we…

Don’t, don’t go there.

Anyway, oh, his beautiful face. The one stubborn strand of hair on his forehead that always refuses to comply with any hair product. The constellation of freckles scattered across his perfectly shaped nose. The sensual curve of his lips. The creases around his eyes and his cheeks when his whole face is lit up by that classic scrunchy smile. I swear they look even more prominent now… Oh! How could I forget, that delicious cleft on his chin. If there’s one saving grace coming out of the breakup, it’s his decision to double, no, triple his effort at the gym. His facial features look that much more striking on his now leaner body. Who gets over a heartbreak by becoming a Greek statue anyway? Pick up baking like a normal person, please.

Wait, I’m thinking about the breakup, aren’t I? Don’t. Don’t! Ugh… too late.

Buck lightly bangs his head against the counter in frustration. Deciding to focus on the task at hand instead, he promptly weighs out his flour, sprinkles in a pinch of salt, then pours the bubbly yeast mixture into the dry ingredients.

Just as he’s about to put his hands to work, he’s interrupted by a familiar rhythm at the door. Quickly wiping his hands on his apron, then pushing the waistband of his pants down by half an inch for Tommy’s viewing pleasure, he goes on to greet the man he’s been waiting for.

“Sorry, I’m late,” Tommy apologizes as he’s entering the loft. “I believe the infamous LA traffic still hasn’t recovered from the emergency freeway landing last year.”

“No, no, it’s alright,” Buck shoots him a reassuring smile, clearly delighted by having his beloved in his space again. “Make yourself at home, I’ll be right with you. I need to finish this dough first.”

“But I thought you said you wanted to relax tonight? Aren’t we just gonna order takeout?” Tommy’s visibly confused by Buck’s ongoing culinary endeavor.

“Oh, this? This is not for tonight. It has to proof until at least tomorrow morning,” Buck replies absentmindedly, his hands continue kneading the dough without pause.

“You don’t have to, Evan. I’m okay with no breakfast at all,” Tommy walks around the kitchen counter to give the hardworking baker a kiss on the temple. “As long as I’m with you.”

“Um… no, I’m making these because my parents are coming to town.”

“Tomorrow morning?!”

“In a month. They’re coming to see Maddie in a month. I’m just stress baking because they…” Buck lets out a sarcastic laugh, “they stress me out.”

“Ahhh… is that so? Well, I’m happy to have learned this about you. I never knew you could bake.”

“I couldn’t. I picked it up recently, after you…” Those dreaded words have already slipped out of his mouth before Buck realizes. He’s been trying his damnedest to steer the night away from this particular direction, but as it turns out, he’s utterly powerless against the freight train of emotions he’s been keeping deep inside. He briefly considers changing the subject, but Tommy’s heard him already. He perks up his eyebrows, signaling Buck to finish his sentence.

It’s better to rip off the band aid now, than to let it snowball into something unstoppable.

“...after you dumped me,” Buck comes clean reluctantly.

Tommy drops his eyes and sighs in understanding, before gently wrapping his arms around Buck from behind. “I’m sorry, baby,” he presses his lips onto the golden curls in front of him.

“Chimney told me, you have a tendency to run away if you’re being pushed too hard. I should wait for you to reach out instead of… the other way around.” Buck keeps working on his dough, intentionally averting his gaze from the man behind him.

“Mmhmm.”

“It was… agonizing. I saw you everywhere. I saw you at home, I saw you at the fire house. I saw you at the coffee shop. I saw you when a helicopter passed by in the sky. You were like… a ghost, haunting me, every waking moment of my life. You know what? Not even just waking, you were haunting my dreams, too. The only thing that managed to stop me from texting you was baking. I had all the supplies at home because I was planning to surprise you with a cake for your birthday but…”

Tommy abruptly lets go and backs off. While Buck fully expects the night to be ruined after his long winded ramble, he mourns the sudden loss of contact nonetheless.

Still not looking up from the increasingly elastic mass on the counter, Buck continues, “I just have to knead it for… um… 5 more minutes, then I’m all yours. Let’s start over, yeah? I’m over it, I’m okay now. Let’s forget about it and just… chill. There’s this movie I…” He’s cut off by Tommy’s return, arms secured around his waist once again, chest pressed firmly against his back, the only difference being that Buck can feel Tommy’s body heat radiating this time.

“Ghost, you said?” Tommy whispers, lips barely grazing the hair standing on Buck’s nape.

“Yeah…” Buck shivers. He turns his head slightly to take a peek at the man behind him.

Yes, Tommy’s shirtless.

“Mmm, keep going,” Tommy demands, hands sliding under the hem of Buck’s shirt to roam around his midsection, lips softly connected to the side of his neck.

So Buck keeps going. Press. Rotate. Press. Rotate. Press. Rotate. Press. Rotate.

He feels two big hands caressing his shoulders, along his arms, then all the way down to his own busy hands.

“What are you making?”

“Ba — Bagels.”

“Umm… I love bagels,” Tommy lazily drags his mouth from Buck’s neck to his shoulder, leaving a trail of delicate kisses behind, “do you know how I like to take it?”

“How…?”

Tommy props his head back up, chin resting on the younger man’s shoulder. “Plain, with cream cheese,” he breathes straight into Buck’s ear. “So much cream cheese that it… oozes out everywhere. Leaking from the side, through the middle…” his tongue darts out to give that spot right underneath the earlobe an inquisitive lick. “I love it when it gets all over my face, painting my mouth white.”

Buck’s previously regular cadence starts faltering. He doesn’t know when to press or when to rotate the dough anymore.

“Hey, let me help you with that,” Tommy grabs a hand full of the dough, and squeezes, hard. Yet, the dough barely budges. “Oh, am I doing it wrong?”

Buck can’t help but giggle. “You have to knead with your palms, not your fingers. Here, let me show you,” he covers Tommy’s right hand with his own, and pushes the heel of his palm into Tommy’s wrist. “You want to fold the dough onto itself, then roll your palm out while pressing down. A bagel dough is supposed to be pretty stiff, so feel free to put your whole body weight into it.”

“Like this?” Tommy mimics exactly what Buck just showed him.

“I’ll give you an A,” Buck turns his head around, meeting Tommy’s gaze. Their faces are so close together, they can feel each other breathing. “You’re a fast learner.”

“I have the best teacher,” Tommy murmurs.

They naturally gravitate towards each other, like two stars on a collision course, until their lips clash together into a sloppy, filthy open-mouthed kiss.

Pulling back slightly to gasp for air, Buck’s pupils are completely blown out, leaving merely a thin icy ring around his dark pool of arousal. “You can use both hands if you want…”

“Let me try that,” Tommy surrounds Buck in his arms, pinning him against the kitchen surface. Then, he starts working on the dough, using his entire body, making sure to time every pressing motion with a thrust from the hip, rocking the younger man into the edge of the counter.

“Mmm — Ah…” the friction generated by Tommy’s movement alone is enough to make Buck moan. He never thought baking could be this erotic. “That — That works…”

He allows himself to enjoy Tommy’s sweet show of strength for a few moments before firmly gripping Tommy’s wrists, stilling him. “It’s — It’s done. Now we put it back into the mixing bowl,” he hastily drops the dough into the metal container, causing a loud thud, “and leave it in the fridge overnight.”

Tommy gives him one more kiss on the cheek, and a pat on his lower back, “go,” then steps aside.

Buck nearly trips over his own feet walking towards the fridge. He hears water running in the background, probably over Tommy’s talented hands. Wrapping up the stainless steel bowl with more than enough plastic wrap, then shoving the whole thing into an empty corner of his fridge, Buck is all too eager to return to Tommy’s touch.

Slamming the fridge door close, Buck whips his head around in a millisecond to catch an eye full of Tommy in his shirtless glory for the first time in the night. He’s drying his hands with a kitchen towel, finger by finger, his biceps flex every time he rubs a digit clean.

Buck walks straight up to the object of his desire, waiting no time to close their distance. Hooking an elbow around Tommy’s neck, he pulls him into a deep, urgent kiss, while his free hand travels down from Tommy’s clavicle towards his nipple.

“Wait,” Tommy stops the exploring hand on its track, “wash your hands first.”

Buck groans in frustration. He unties the knot in his back, takes off his apron, then swiftly treks towards the kitchen sink to prepare himself for the ensuing nighttime activities.

Tommy follows him, settling snugly behind Buck while he’s cleaning his hands. Tommy slowly dips his mischievous fingers into Buck’s waistband, pleasantly surprised to find bare skin underneath.

“Oh, no underwear? Someone’s eager tonight,” Tommy says in a seductive tone.

Roughly drying his hands on his own shirt, Buck spins around to face Tommy, “I’ve been waiting for you to notice…” Feeling Tommy’s fingers tapping the hem of his top, Buck peels it off right away, letting those enormous hands roam free across his body.

“Bed?” Tommy asks in between kisses.

“Couch.” Buck pants.

Just when Buck’s calculating in his head the logistics of moving to the couch without breaking contact with his man, Tommy withdraws his hand from Buck’s bare skin.

“Hold on tight,” Tommy suddenly grabs onto the back of Buck’s thighs and lifts him clear off the ground, carrying him towards the underside of the loft.

[riveroftales]

✧✧✧✧✧✧✧ᴄᴏᴍᴘʟᴇᴍᴇɴᴛ✧✧✧✧✧✧✧

sᴀɴᴇᴍɪ x ɢɴ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

𝖢𝖢'𝗌 𝖭𝗈𝗍𝖾: Pretend that people don’t die after 25 when they get the demon slayer mark please🙏🙏

The bones in Sanemi’s once strong body grew weaker, his arms shaking slightly as he stood up and stretched. With time and less stress, the world around him seemed to thrive more.

He never had to save anyone else again after the defeat of Muzan, and he smiled to himself knowing his family was watching over him, protecting him in his decreasing lifespan.

“Thinking about something?” You smiled, going up to him with a tray of ohagi.

Sanemi turned as his gaze softened.

“No, no. Nothing.” He reached over to grab one of the ohagis. “You should rest, you know. I don’t think it’s good for you to work so much at our age..”

The softest laugh blessed his ears. “It’s okay, keeps me young anyways.” Your gaze fell to his clothes. “Oh? Did you buy a new haori?”

“I did, in fact.” Sanemi proudly said, snaking an arm around you. “Does it look familiar to you?”

“Looks exactly like the one I wear.”

“Exactly.” He leaned in to press a soft kiss to your cheek. “We match.”

You laughed again, playfully pulling away. “You’re gonna make me drop the ohagi!” You playfully scolded, setting the tray down and sat on the porch, next to your husband.

Sanemi sat back down and finished the ohagi in his hand, a sigh leaving his lips.

Peaceful silence embraced you two before you gently placed the tray on your husband’s lap, shuffling closer before placing your head on his shoulder.

Despite your age, both of you kept each other young. The effort you put in your relationship never strained any of you.

The sun set over the horizon as butterflies took it as a cue to land on the flowers your husband planted in the garden, resting for only a few mere seconds before flying away again.

He looked at you, taking in your features. Your once smooth skin had a few light wrinkles all over it with visible smile lines, and your dark hair you used to love so much had grown a few white chunks. He reached over and gently stroked your head.

“I heard they came out with a new type of hair colour… do you want me to go buy it tomorrow for you?”

“No..” You responded softly. “I like my hair. I want to keep its health and don’t want to risk any damage. And on top of that..” Looking up at him, you flashed him one of your sweetest smiles. “We match.”

A small scoff left Sanemi before he also broke out into a smile. “You know I was born this way, right? Yours is a sign you’re getting old.”

“Then you’ve been old since you’re a kid. Also I genuinely like my hair if I don’t love it.”

“But you used to hate having a single grey streak…?”

“I did.” You leaned in. “But that was when I was younger. Stress from family and friends. You though, Darling, never gave me any.. I like them now because to me, they represent time, you know?” A small chuckle left you. “God, I sound so sappy..”

His hand cupped your cheek. “No. Never. Please continue.”

Sanemi was still dangerously good looking despite his age. He still made your poor, weak heart throb hard.

“It’s like time.. time I’ve spent with you.. a lifetime I stayed by your side.. I love it because even if I have dementia or alzheimers, anything which could affect my memory, I know I have my hair to remind me that I’ve spent a life with you…”

“Would you really like that?”

“I do love it so much. It feels like home with you. I wouldn’t mind spending eternity with you.”

“I think we’d still age. Ya wanna stay with me even if we’re all wrinkly, our skin’s thin, and we’re on death’s doorstep?”

“Would you hold me?”

“Of course.”

“Then yeah, that’s perfect.”

[ikkyfics]

Rings

James Potter x fem!reader

Summary: "Well, now that we have the rings... what else is on the list? Invitations? Music? Or can we just run away and get married tomorrow? You know I’d be up for it, right?"

Warnings: none

Part 2 of Marry Me

Masterlist

The wizarding jewelry store was a charming place, almost like a solid dream. Floating chandeliers glowed softly, casting colorful beams of light that danced across the display windows. Each piece on display seemed unique, as if it told its own story, shining in delicate shades of gold, silver, and platinum, with gemstones that pulsed lightly, as if they had a life of their own. You were holding hands with James, his fingers intertwined with yours, as he looked around with an almost childlike excitement.

"Well," he began, gently squeezing your hand as his vibrant blue eyes scanned the shop, "I think we need to find something that’s... perfect. Something that will make everyone know, without a doubt, that you’re mine."

You laughed, but felt the warmth rise to your cheeks. "James, I’m already yours. The ring is just... a detail."

He stopped in his tracks, gently spinning you so you were face to face. "Oh, love, it’s so much more than a detail. It’s the symbol of all this," he said, gesturing between the two of you. "Of me and you. Of all the times you made me laugh, of all the nights I knew I was exactly where I was meant to be, just because you were there. I want it to be the most beautiful ring you’ve ever seen."

Before you could respond, a shop attendant appeared, an elderly wizard with a kind demeanor and a silver beard that looked like strands of light. "Ah, young lovers," he said with a warm smile. "Welcome to our shop. I’m sure we’ll find something as unique as your story."

James immediately got excited, beginning to describe what he had in mind. "Something simple, but... special. Maybe with our initials or some detail that has meaning. Oh, and that matches her hands," he said, holding up your hand and lifting it for the attendant to examine.

"Of course," the man replied, picking up a fine wand and gesturing to a nearby display. Small rings began to float, each with a unique glow. Some had stones that changed color slightly depending on the angle, others had small enchantments that made engravings appear and disappear with a touch.

"Look at this one," James said, pointing to a delicate gold band with a small stone that seemed to shine with the light of a tiny star. "It looks like your eyes," he added, smiling at you.

"James," you said, trying not to laugh. "I don’t need something that extravagant."

"Extravagant? This is just the beginning," he teased, pulling out another ring with small carvings that seemed to form a map when illuminated. "Maybe something that reminds us of that trip to Hogsmeade, when you finally said you liked me."

"I said I liked you because you were impossible to ignore," you replied, crossing your arms with an amused smile.

"And it still works today," he shot back, leaning in to steal a quick kiss.

In the end, the attendant suggested a personalized idea: a fine ring, with your initials engraved on the inside, accompanied by a simple spell that would make the initials glow lightly every time you were near each other. When he explained that the rings could also pulse gently, as a constant reminder of each other’s presence, you saw James' eyes light up.

"This is it," he said, without hesitation.

"Are you sure?" you asked, glancing at him sideways.

"Absolutely," he replied, holding your hand and intertwining his fingers with yours once more. "Because that’s exactly what you are to me, love. My constant presence. My reminder that, no matter where I am, it's with you I want to be."

The fitting process was almost magical. As soon as the rings were enchanted and dipped into the finishing solution, the final glow was revealed. James carefully held it, sliding the ring onto your finger just to "test" it.

"See? Perfect," he said with a side smile, his eyes locked on yours.

James held your hand firmly, even more excited after the ring’s approval. He couldn’t seem to hide the smile that lit up his face. "Well, now that we have the rings... what else is on the list? Invitations? Music? Or can we just run away and get married tomorrow? You know I’d be up for it, right?"

You laughed, shaking your head, but the warmth in your chest grew with his comment. "James, you know I want the full wedding. No running away. And besides, you promised you'd pick the music with Sirius, remember?"

He made an exaggerated grimace, letting out a dramatic sigh. "Oh, right. Because everyone trusts Sirius Black's taste in music. You know he’ll suggest something completely inappropriate, right? I bet he’ll want to play some Queen anthem for the entrance."

You raised an eyebrow. "And you wouldn't think that’s amazing?"

James tried to hide it, but the corner of his mouth betrayed a contained smile. "Maybe. But only because I’ll be too busy looking at you to hear anything."

The comment made your cheeks flush, and you turned your gaze away, pretending to study the shop windows around you. James didn’t miss the opportunity and leaned in a little, trying to catch your face again. "Hey, no point in hiding. I’ve said it before and I’ll repeat it until you believe me: there’s nothing in this world that makes me happier than seeing you like this. Than knowing that you’re mine."

You looked at him, a shy smile escaping before teasing him, "You always know what to say, don't you?"

"No," he replied sincerely, a mischievous gleam in his eyes. "Actually, I get kind of goofy around you. A walking disaster. But somehow, it always works."

He stopped abruptly, gently pulling you to a quieter corner of the street. "Seriously, love... you know how grateful I am for you, don’t you? For every second, every laugh, every moment. You make everything worth it. And these rings are just the beginning of everything I want to give you."

You felt your eyes begin to well up, but before you could respond, he leaned in, his fingers gently gliding to hold your face. The kiss he gave you was delicate, as if trying to convey every word he couldn’t say. When he pulled away, his smile was softer, but his eyes still shone brightly.

"Now," he began, resuming the intertwining of your fingers, "I think it’s time to find an excuse to celebrate this. How about lunch? Or maybe we stop by my parents' house to show them our choice? My mum’s going to want to know every detail, you know that."

You nodded, your heart full. "Yes, but only if you promise you’ll defend the choice if Sirius starts teasing."

James threw his head back, laughing, and kissed your temple quickly. "I promise. But who knows, maybe he’ll give in to the charm of these magical rings."

The two of you walked hand in hand through the busy streets of Hogsmeade, mentally planning the next steps and the visits you still needed to make. Every little detail seemed to bring more excitement and certainty that the future you were building together would be everything you had always dreamed of—and so much more.

[sylusdarling]

Relaxation

Sub!Zayne x reader

✧Your boyfriend is exhausted and needs you to take control

Content: Sub!Zayne, overworked Zayne, afab reader, Pussy eating, coming in pants, Dom/Sub

A/N: To be completely honest Zayne is a bit out of character but I just want to take care of him so bad. Sweet boy ☹️ also it’s almost 2am so i’ll proof read tomorrow

Zaynes job was extremely stressful. Having to constantly stay on his toes while dealing with intense situations. Medical emergencies, surgeries, even death. Due to his status he was often placed on a pedestal, anything and everything was expected from Doctor Zayne. It was both mentally and physically draining.

It was just past midnight. His eyes were tired and his head slightly pounded as he finished the last of his paperwork. A soft knock on his office door tore away his focus.

“Doctor Zayne,” The secretary poked her head in, “I just wanted to let you know your girlfriend is here.”

He glanced at his phone that had no new notifications. “She didn’t say anything.”

“She didn’t want to bother you as you finished up your work she said. She’s been waiting for around 20 minutes, I thought I’d pop in and say something.” The secretary had a kind smile on her face.

Zayne nodded, “Thank you, I appreciate it.”

“Of course. Goodnight Doctor Zayne!”

“Goodnight.” He bid the secretary farewell as he began packing everything up into his briefcase. He hung up his white coat before he closed the office door behind him.

You were sat in the waiting area as you waited for Zayne. You were playing on your phone when he walked up to you.

“All done for today, doctor?” You asked as you stood up and planted a kiss on his cheek.

“I have a bit of paperwork to finish but nothing that can’t wait until tomorrow.”

“Great, let’s head home.” Grabbing his hand, you intertwined your fingers together as you left through the hospital doors.

Once you both got home, you settled into the couch as Zayne went straight to the bedroom. Emerging from the shared bedroom Zayne came out in a comfortable pair of sweats. He padded over to, staring for a moment once he stood before you.

“What’s wrong honey?” You asked as you looked up at him.

Wordlessly, Zayne dropped to his knees in front of you. He laid his head turned to the side on your lap as he looked up at you.

You could already see where this was going. He’s been so overwhelmed by work that he needs you to take the reins, he was falling into a submissive headspace.

You pet your boyfriend’s midnight hair as you spoke in a low voice, “Are you feeling alright, honey?”

Zayne nodded, “Yes, I’m fine.”

You scratched his scalp with your lengthy nails, “Alright. Do you want to give up control, let me do everything?” Is that what you want love?”

He once again nodded.

You cooed, “My baby’s so tired isn’t he?” He made a small ‘Mm’ into your leg. “My sweet boy, so strong. You’re doing so well.”

“Thank you, Miss.” He flicks his eyes up to you as he speaks. With his cheek, he spread apart your leg thighs a small bit, “May I?” He asked in a soft voice.

“Is that what you want baby?” You asked. Zayne nodded. “Go ahead then.” Spreading your legs apart you granted Zayne full access. Lifting up your hips, you shimmied your pants down your legs leaving you in your panties and t-shirt.

With his finger, Zayne moved aside your panties leaving your cunt exposed. Leaning in he licked one long, slow stripe up your folds which caused you to shiver. His tongue darted out towards your clit. The muscle circled the sensitive bud which caused you to let out a soft moan.

Zayne looked up to gauge your reaction, once he saw you were enjoying yourself he started to suckle on the pink bud. “Ah…so good for me sweetheart.” You said breathily.

“Do you feel good Miss?” Zayne asked. Placing your fingers in Zaynes dark locks, you gave them a small tug “Mm so good.”

After the praise, Zayne began to eat you out with vigor. His skillful mouth licked and kissed your cunt. He was lost between your legs, his only purpose was pleasuring you at the moment. His brain was hazy, all he wanted to do was be a good boy. He drank up your nectar like a thirsty man as you shook and moaned on his tongue.

“Zayne sweetheart, i-i’m close.” You panted as your eyes were lined with tears due to the pleasure.

“Come on my tongue, please Miss?” And who were you to deny him. He sank his tongue back into your pussy. The lewd sounds that came from your slick heat filled up the room as Zayne tried to get you to your climax. His face was covered with your essence as he moved his tongue. Your cunt was one of his favourite places. “Zay a-ah! I’m c-coming!” You whined as you finally let go on his tongue. Your vision went dark for a moment as the knot in your core finally snapped.

“You taste so good Miss. Thank you for letting me taste you.” Zayne made sure to clean up the mess you made with his tongue, he was savouring it.

Your chest rose and fell with heavy breaths as you attempted to steady your breathing again. “That was amazing Zayne.” Leaning down, you planted a kiss to his forehead as a thank you. “Now, why don’t I make you feel good now?” You suggested.

Instead of a response he looked away bashfully with a red tint on his cheeks. Looking down you saw the growing wet spot that was on his pants.

“Sweetheart. Did…did you come just from eating me out?” You asked stunned.

“I suppose so.” He breathed out.

“Oh sweetheart. How about we go take a shower together and get you all cleaned up?” You asked as you outstretched your hand in order to help Zayne off his knees.

Grabbing your hand, Zayne lifted himself off the ground. He returned the kiss you placed on him, on your forehead. “That’s amazing. Thank you my love.”

“Anything for my boy.”

[agrlsname]

Thank you @therealsaintscully for the tag! I'm soon about to post what might be my very last fic, so it's quite fitting to look back on my journey now.

How many works do you have on ao3?

38 – all Johnlock, except for one GO fic. On New Year's Eve I will post number 39!

What’s your total word count?

371,360 (will soon top it off with another 221 words ;))

What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

What Friends Do (by FAR), Who I Really Am (personal fave), The General Idea, Coldness/Heat, Tomorrow's Song

Do you respond to comments? Why/why not?

At first I responded to every single one! And I still try to respond to every single person. But now, I sometimes only respond to the last one if it's a reader who's commented on every chapter and I get all the comments at once. I like staying connected to the readers, that's one of the most fun parts about fandom!

What's the fic you've written with the angstiest ending?

It has to be This Is Your Song. I mean, there's another one within a series that end in an angsty cliffhanger, but MCD surely has to take the prize?

What's the fic you've written with the happiest ending?

Oh my, nearly all of them have happy endings – so what would count as happier than happy..? Maybe it's actually the one that isn't posted yet – stay tuned for the resolution of the New Year's Kiss series!

Do you write crossovers?

Nope. I've written a fusion though (Johnlock and Moulin Rouge!).

Have you ever received hate on a fic?

Yup. Some people get really angry at John in What Friends Do and they take it out on me. It's interesting because many MANY others adore the story with all their hearts! I even wrote a sequel from John's POV just to try to get people to understand, but the haters didn't understand anyway.

Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

Even though at the beginning I said I'd never, half of my works are now rated E or M. What kind? Um, is "emotional, gay sex" a genre?

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

I hope not!

Have you ever had a fic translated?

Many of them, into five different languages! Coolest thing ever.

Have you ever co-written a fic before?

No, I think I'm too pedantic for that. I've loved working with my beta on some poem translations, though, that The Sky is Full of Fiddles is based on.

What's your all-time favourite ship?

38 fics – you all know it's Johnlock, right? There are others that I love, but nothing can ever compare.

What's a WIP that you want to finish but don't think you ever will?

I don't have WIPs! I'm too much of a control freak and perfectionist when it comes to writing – I want to be able to change the beginning when I'm writing the ending. I don't even have unpublished WIPs – I hate the idea of leaving works unfinished. If I was still in those first years of writing frenzy, when I was single and didn't have a child, I'd have expanded on This Time – but as it is, I knew that I wouldn't have the time to do it justice. So I purposely ended on a cliffhanger that would still allow it to stand on its own the way it is.

What are your writing strengths?

Emotions, according to my beta! If you ask me, I'd say describing things – often emotions, I suppose – in new, poetic ways that play on different senses and therefore make them immediate. It's something I love reading myself, anyway, so it's something I've been practicing for... well, decades now. I'd like to think I've gotten at least somewhat good at it.

What are your writing weaknesses?

I'm weirdly bad at coming up with the small details that aren't important, but needed. A recent example is I needed a character to text another with an invented problem to try to get him to come over. It wasn't at all important what the problem was, but it also couldn't be just anything; it had to be in line with his character. I could not for the life of me come up with this problem myself – eventually my husband did it for me. So those kinds of details in my stories are rarely from my own brain!

What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

Hmm, well, I've tried not to do that. As a reader I find it annoying to have to look things up, or scroll down to the notes. I have three fics in which characters aren't English; in This Is Your Song I added a couple of "Bonjour"s for flavour, which is about as far as my own French knowledge reaches... In the Fiddles series they're Swedes and speak my mother tongue, but I've written everything in English except for the words that English doesn't have (like for example "polska", a kind of dance), and at the very end, some song lyrics that are then translated into English in the end notes that come immediately after. I did want to add that song for flavour, but I didn't want it to be annoying.

What was the first fandom you wrote for?

Johnlock! I started in the aftermath of season 4 back in January 2017 and then couldn't stop.

What's a fandom/ship you haven't written for yet but want to?

I'm wondering whether I will come back to fic writing at a later point, but for another fandom. I've long wanted to write more for GO, although I already have written one fic. It would probably be a lot of fun to write for OFMD too. Doctor Who maybe? I don't know, it intimidates me to write for a new fandom where I don't yet know the characters as well as I know Sherlock and John.

What's your favourite fic you've written?

This question is too cruel! There are so many of them that I love. Maybe I have to say The Sky is Full of Fiddles, after all – it holds such a special place in my heart for many reasons that go beyond the story itself (although that's true for several fics). Other faves are Your Daughter, The Zebra Sheets and of course Who I Really Am, which I'm liking enough to turn it into a novel I'm now trying to get published. See, I couldn't pick one!!

I'm on Tumblr way too sporadically to have any idea of who's already done this and who hasn't, so I don't dare tag anyone... Feel free to take it and tag me if you feel like it!

[reallypleasanttree]

Part 3:

On the train ride, Okita took out his phone and clicked on the newest text message. 

Unknown number: Blue skies in summer, 

one star fell another rose, 

now skies shimmer gold

A haiku? Okita reread it and thumbs hovered over the phone’s keyboard. How did a person respond to a message like this? It seemed to be about renewal, change, or transformation. He frowned, uncertain of what to make of her words. Maybe she was referring to their chance meeting? 

Genji Okita: Did you write that yourself? 

The speakers on the train announced his stop and he moved towards the doors. There weren't many people on the train right now. It was nearly 2 A.M. on a Thursday night. He put his phone in his jacket pocket and exited as it came to stop. The air was crisp in the fall. With the light of the city, the stars were impossible to see. 

“One star fell, another rose,” Okita whispered. The haiku clearly didn’t refer to this city. Was she raised in the countryside where the stars were visible? He shook his head. There was no need to ruminate this deeply on the poem. The persistent need to check his messages nagged on his mind as he walked. When was the last time he liked a girl this much? He could not remember. 

Turning left, a familiar row of apartments came into view. His grandmother’s light was still on. After all this time, she still couldn’t sleep if he was not home. 

He exhaled, watching his breath disappear in the cold. His grandmother raised him since he was in primary school. His mother died during childbirth while his father died from an aneurysm when he was walking home from work. Okita tapped lightly on his grandmother’s front door. It took her a few seconds, but she opened it. 

Despite her advanced age, her dark blue-green eyes were clear. She said they were a common trait amongst their ancestors. There had even been a record of a man who had Okita’s dual colored eyes. It was supposedly his great-great grandmother’s cousin or brother. The official records of their family were long lost between the wars and time. Who knew what was true? 

“I made you dinner and some tea.” She passed him a thermos of green tea and a glass container of tonkatsu and rice. “I hope you had a good night,” she said. 

“Thank you.” Okita took the drink and food. He didn’t want to keep her up by telling her about Mitsuri. Maybe if the date went well tomorrow night, he would. “You should go to bed,” he said. She had bags under her eyes from the wait. She nodded without protest and kissed his cheek before slipping away. 

He opened his front door and turned on the light. His place was a small studio apartment he shared with his pet snake. The ivory snake in question rested under the heat lamp by the window. He set the tea, food, and cell phone on the kitchen counter before peeling off his jacket to hang in the closet. 

Okita opened the container and inhaled the scent of fried pork and tempura before taking a bite. His phone screen lit up. 

Unknown number: Yes! Did you make it home safely?!?

Genji Okita: Just got back and I'm currently eating tonkatsu. 

Unknown number: Tonkatsu’s my favorite! 

Genji Okita: Mine too. 

The three small dots appeared and then disappeared twice. He waited a minute to see if she would say anything else and entered her name as a new contact. Five minutes passed and there was still nothing. 

Genji Okita: I won’t keep you up since you have work tomorrow. Have a good night

He did not want to come off as desperate. There was a tug on his insides that insisted he send another message. 

Genji Okita: I look forward to seeing you. 

He flipped his phone over, not wishing to stare at it as he hoped for a quick response.  Minutes later he finished his meal and set the dirty container into the sink to soak. Okita went through his nightly routine of switching out clothes, brushing his teeth, and checking his snake’s water bowl. When he checked his phone again another message awaited him. 

Kanroji Mitsuri: I’ll be waiting eagerly until tomorrow night. ☺️

The completed section I have for the Demon Mitsuri and Reincarnated Human Obanai fic where Muzan won and turned Mitsuri into a demon.

“If we survive the battle against Muzan, will you marry me?” Mitsuri asked. They laid, staring at each other. She ran her hand over his cheek, caressing his scars. They ran from his mouth to his ears, deliberately made for him to look like a snake. He never cared how they looked, only if she would be bothered by them. However, she adored them. The raised lines brought her comfort in the familiarity. He entrusted his secret and his face to her alone. He sought solace in her and she in him. 

“Yes,” her lover agreed. 

Nothing could describe how she felt. Warmth blooming beneath her breast. With that single promise, he tied himself to her forever. Scars and all. Except it was not to be. He died fighting one of the Upper Moons. She nearly died before Muzan turned her into a demon. When she first became a demon she had no memory of her former life. It came back in pieces. 

Muzan explained how eating humans would make her stronger. Hunger clawed inside her stomach. Instinct drove her to kill and devour her prey. It didn’t matter who it was. She needed to fill the void in her stomach when in actuality the emptiness originated in her heart. 

—-

“Mitsuri,” the man said. She blinked and tried to focus her eyes on his face. They were inside a large fortress with rotating columns, platforms, and bridges. Nothing stayed in place. “If things get bad, promise you’ll run.” 

“I’d never leave you,” she said automatically. His long black hair shielded her from reading his expression. A white snake coiled tighter around his neck. 

“Please,” he breathed and raised his head. His teal and amber eyes were glossy. Scars graced his cheeks along with a downtrodden expression. She held a hand to her chest. “You’re important and deserve more than this.” He gestured to the demons crawling around the Infinity Castle. “You have to live, so please,” he said, tightening the grip on his sword. “If we fail, run,” he said. She nodded. 

They wouldn’t fail. They had a life to live after this. 

—-

The next night Mitsuri woke feeling full for the first time in ages. Just as she was important, he had been important. She couldn’t remember his name or all of his features. The scars across his cheeks though. She remembered those. 

Her fingers traced an outline of where his scars had been on his face. Jagged, harsh lines meant to frighten, yet… they brought forth joy and fulfillment beneath her breast. For the first time in years, she felt her heart. There was a steady thump, she heard reverberate over her body. She grasped the light blue bed sheets. 

Mitsuri. A smooth voice echoed in her mind. It wasn’t like the times Muzan called upon her. No, this was different. It was like a soft caress  as someone pushed back one of her thick braids and whispered in her ear. 

I will always love you. Chills ran down her spine. It was what she craved. Someone to love her. 

Over the next night, the joy Mitsuri felt vanished. That feeling disappeared in the fog like the scarred man who held her heart. They had been lovers, yet she remained. 

———————

They called it a Glasgow smile. When someone’s face was cut from the corners of their mouth and upwards. A permanent scar to make someone look like they’re always smiling. And who wouldn’t smile when they were with her? 

When she looked in the mirror to see a demon with smooth, pale skin. Pink and green hair with emerald eyes. Her face was sweet enough to look at and a body comparable to a goddess of love. It drew in her prey like a Venus flytrap. An offering of sweetness only to be entangled in her vice grip and torn apart.  

She felt nothing as she recalled the vivid, brutal details of her kills. Muscles and ligaments snapped as she tore them from the bone. Blood, the metallic taste sat on her tongue. With each bite, she hoped to fill the void. 

Before the main event, she would charm them, luring them in with a soft chuckle and a touch on the shoulder. With a single touch and a drop of her blood, anyone would fall in love with her. Their eyes would dilate, heart would quicken, and skin would sweat. All signs that her blood demon art worked. Now she was in an alleyway with a stranger. 

“I love you, baby,” her prey whispered. She felt nothing, but the sickening hunger as her stomach growled. Love was no longer part of her vocabulary. At least not in the waking world. Her dreams were another matter. 

The woman dug her nails into the back of his shirt as he kissed her jawline. He was completely intoxicated and reeked of alcohol. She pulled back her lips, her teeth elongating as she prepared to strike.

Her saliva contained a natural sedative. As soon as she bit his neck it would take less than three minutes for him to lose any feeling except for his overwhelming love and affection for the pink haired woman he picked up at the bar. She pulled her head back and before she could read his face, she bit his neck, just hard enough to draw blood. An appetizer before the feast. 

He groaned. She sucked on his neck, drinking his blood. Alternating between sucking and biting, she could feel his body becoming slack. His hold around her loosened and his knees started to buckle. She paused to hold his body up against the wall. 

She flexed her hand to make her nails grow. With her long nails, she carved a permanent smile onto the man’s face. Blood dripped down the man’s cheeks. Her blood demon art was stronger than the pain and fear he should have felt. 

“I love you,” he murmured past the bloody smile. 

“You don’t,” she said. His eyes closed, the blood loss too great to ignore. 

Looking at her work, she could see the man she longed for. He had black hair, sweet almond shaped eyes, and the Glasgow smile. How she missed running her hands over the ridges of the scar. In the next second her former lover was gone. She gritted her teeth before she bit into the stranger’s neck again. The blood quelled her rage, but it would never fill the emptiness inside. Seeing him, though? That was the only time she felt full. It would only last a short time before she’d hunt again. 

Anytime she carved a smile into her prey’s face, she saw her lover and remembered how it felt to be in love instead of the fallacy of being loved. The feelings ushered forth. The coolness of his hands in hers, his arms encircling her in an embrace, the look in his different colored eyes as he watched her race towards him, reunited after a mission. Carving into her victims was the only way to keep his memory alive and her emotions. 

Otherwise, she was a shell of the woman she had been. She could act like the happy go lucky girl, but it never reached her heart. Her smiles were disingenuous along with her promises to care for the men she devoured. No, it was only his confession that quickened her heart. 

————

“Iguro-San, if I became a demon what would you do?” Mitsuri asked. The question was prompted by the last hashira meeting where they met the Kamado siblings. Iguro-San had been unnecessarily harsh with the brother while the Wind Hashira tormented the demon girl. It made her wonder how the Serpent Hashira would react in the boy’s place. Would he be so willing to demand her execution? 

He sat beside her on a bench. There was a plate of dango between them. Iguro-San took one out of twenty, leaving nineteen for her. His grip on the stick tightened and he stared directly ahead of them. 

“Don’t speak like that,” he said loudly. Mitsuri blinked. He never raised his voice around her and spoke kindly. The stick broke between his fingers. She raised her hands up to catch one of the fallen pieces. Instead he caught her wrist and faced her. Her cheeks warmed at the contact and his heated gaze. 

“I’d never allow you to become a demon, not while I’m alive,” Iguro practically growled. 

“I-I’m only joking,” Mitsuri stuttered. 

“Your life is not a joke,” he said. “You’re the most important person to me.” He moved his hand from her wrist to hold her hand. Her heart stuttered this time. Did she really mean that much to him? Surely he was only being kind. Mitsuri tried to pull her hand away, but he held tighter. 

“Kanroji-San, don’t you get it?” He asked, leaning towards her. Her ears buzzed until all she could see was his face. His earnest gaze hypnotized her, leaving her frozen on the bench. 

“I love you,” Iguro admitted. He reached up and pulled the bandages down. She didn’t even care to look at his unmasked face before their lips met. Soft and gentle despite the fire raging inside her. When she finally pulled back she took in the sight of his smile, the one that extended past the corners of his mouth. 

“I love you too,” Mitsuri said, lifting her hand to caress the scars for the first time. 

—

Mitsuri woke up still feeling his warm hand clasped over hers. The memory etched into her heart. The heat in his gold and teal eyes as he confessed and the kiss afterward. Why couldn’t she stay inside the dream for a bit longer? She traced the outline of her lips. 

Her lover kept his promise. He died before she became a demon. He never had to see her like this. A shell of her former self. Listless, selfish, gluttonous. She rolled to her side. Her stomach growled. Another night in the endless days where she sought a cure to this hunger. 

There was no cure. She pinched her stomach. There was no cure for the emptiness, eating away at her insides. The only relief were the memories of Iguro and his all encompassing love. 

I wish you were here. She looked at the empty side of her hotel bed. What would it have been like if he was turned into a demon? He would have been beside her now. She ran her hand over the sheets, recalling how she would search for his sleeping form in the middle of the night as humans. The longing was still there. Mitsuri rolled out of the bed, her white silk robe trailing on the floor. Tonight she had to hunt. 

—-

Mitsuri never stayed in one place for too long. It would be noticeable if multiple men disappeared from the same club or city. Now, she was standing beside the bar trying to decide who would be her next victim. She smiled at the man across the crowd. He was tall with bleached short hair. He met her gaze and she winked. He made his way down the steps to her. 

“What’s a pretty girl like you doing here?” He greeted. 

“Waiting for you,” Mitsuri said, the lie slipping out easily. He grinned widely. 

“I’m Kenji,” he introduced himself. 

“Haru,” she said using a pseudonym, batting her eyes at him. It was over the top, but men couldn’t resist a girl throwing herself at them. “I’m in town for business.”

“What are you drinking?” Kenji asked and pulled her to the bar’s service counter. His hand rested on her upper arm. “I’ll buy you whatever you want.” 

“Such a gentleman,” she praised. 

The bartender was preparing drinks. The lights were dimmed, but she could see his features clearly. The man from her dreams. Her flirtatious nature vanished seeing him. Black hair pulled back into a ponytail and his two toned gaze honed in on Kenji and her as he looked over his shoulder. She licked her lips as he glanced her way. The only thing missing was his scars. His cheeks were smooth, she wanted to run her hands over them. 

“Okita, my girl wants a whiskey on the rocks,” Kenji yelled over the cacophony of sounds. She barely registered the man she decided would be her meal tonight. 

“Is that right?” The bartender asked. Mitsuri nodded, unable to speak. He was so close, the man she craved more than anyone. Her usual calm demeanor lost as her hand shook. Okita turned around to prepare her drink. He was well built, his hands tactful as he pulled out a chilled glass and one of the bottles of whiskey. He didn’t even bother looking for it. He memorized the selection. 

Obanai. 

Thud, thud, thud. 

It was the first time she felt her heart race in decades. Her past lover stood in front of her. All she had to do was reach across the counter and run her hands over his face. His scarless face. 

I love you. He told her nearly a hundred years ago and it still rang true. At least for her. This man was a mirror copy of her lover. 

“Here,” the man said, holding the amber drink and meeting her gaze. She took the drink and tried to ignore the way their fingers grazed and the spark of electricity under her skin. Did he feel it? Her lips tingled. When was the last time they had kissed? It must have been the night they fell into the Infinity Castle. “Are you alright? It looks like you saw a ghost,” he questioned with concern. Mitsuri stood straighter.

“No, I just-“ she said, losing her cultivated calm. 

Before Mitsuri could find the words, Kenji pulled her into the crowd. Her goal tonight was to find her next meal. She could not get distracted by the man who looked like her past lover. She sipped on her drink as Kenji continued to flirt. Mitsuri kept the conversation going, easily enough. Kenji talked about himself, not bothering to ask her any more questions. He was less of a gentleman than she thought. 

As much as she tried to focus on Kenji, her eyes kept drifting back to the bar every few minutes. Okita was methodical as he went from person to person. He took orders and made drinks and small talk. 

He smiled at the customers, yet it never reached his eyes. He was pretending, just like she was. The thought was sobering. They were actors tonight. He was cast in the role of a working man while she was a woman looking for a casual hookup. Obanai told her once he loved her because of her authenticity. The memory made her sick. What would Obanai think of her now? 

“It looks like you need a refill,” Kenji said, breaking her concentration. Mitsuri looked down at the empty drink in her hand. “I’ll grab you a new one.”

“No, I’ll get it,” Mitsuri said and turned before she could stop herself. It wouldn’t hurt to talk to Okita. She slipped away and through the crowd. When she stepped up to the bar she was faced with a white haired woman serving behind the counter. 

“What can I grab for you?” The new bartender asked lazily. Mitsuri scanned the entire bar, but he was gone. When had he disappeared? 

“Where did Okita go?” Mitsuri asked despite her best judgement. He wasn’t the same man as Obanai. They may have looked alike, but they were not the same. 

“His shift ended. You can probably catch him outside,” she said, pointing towards the exit. Mitsuri set her drink on the counter and ran out the door, forgetting about her mission. 

The cold air hit her lungs as she opened the heavy door. Mitsuri looked to the right and only saw a dumpster with a rat running across the top. 

“Ghost girl,” someone said on the other side of her. Mitsuri turned towards the sound, already knowing it was Okita. Even his voice was like Obanai’s. He held a cigarette in his left hand as he leaned against the brick wall. He flicked the ash on the ground. “Are you running away from Kenji?” He asked. “I don’t blame you. He’s an asshole.” 

“Sort of,” Mitsuri answered and shut the door behind her. It was only the two of them-and the rat looking for food in the dumpster. “If you knew he was an asshole, why didn’t you intervene?” 

“It’s not my place and, besides, you look like you can handle yourself. If you’re here, then it seems like I was right.” There was a glint in his eye. He smirked as he brought the cigarette to his mouth. He breathed in and out, blowing the smoke straight up.

Mitsuri swallowed as she stepped in front of him. She had not felt nervous in ages. It was foreign as other past feelings emerged with this man’s appearance. What was she doing right now? 

“The other bartender said your shift was over,” Mitsuri said. 

“Was it that good of a drink?” Okita asked, tilting his head. “Izumi could have made you the same thing.” Mitsuri shook her head. 

“No, I wanted to see you,” she confessed. She wanted to do more than simply see him. She wished to touch his scarless face, run her hands through his silky hair, and kiss him. Objectively, Mitsuri knew this man wasn’t the same as Obanai, but they’re similarities were uncanny. He ignited a spark and now a small ember burned inside her chest.