#MOUTH FULL OF WHITE LIES / reply.

[nanaslutt]

Rivalry

synopsis: Geto and Gojo learn to share (you)

cont: fem reader, they're all 'friends', masturbation, oral (they eat you out together), making out (satosugu), competitiveness, arguing, teasing, dirty talk, choking, hand jobs, so much sexual tension it hurts

MDNI

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ

Satoru jabs his shoulder into Suguru's not acknowledging it as he pulled your thigh over his shoulder harder, bringing your cunt more towards him. Geto felt the vein in his forehead pop out as he tsked loudly, repeating the same action Gojo had just done to him, his warm fingers digging into your other thigh as he tried and failed to pull you more towards him thanks to Satoru's iron grip. 

The duo continued giving each other painfully obvious side eyes and noises of disgust at the other. "Hey... hey- hey!!" You snapped, snapping the men out of their childish fight as their heads turned to face yours. You propped your arms behind you on the bed, looking down at them with a scowel. "Stop fucking fights, you assholes are stretching my legs too much I can feel my ligaments ripping." You said dramatically.

Your legs were spread so far apart to accommodate both obnoxiously wide and built men, you were already struggling enough, and now they were trying to pull you apart like some dog toy. "It seems like you two are more interested in yourselves than me. Maybe this wasn't a good idea." You said with a scowl, ready to end this before it even started. 

"No! no, no, we'll behave." Gojo said quickly, panic evident in his tone as he took your words seriously. "Won't we, Suguru?" The white-haired man looked over at the man next to him with a faux smile plastered on his face. Suguru's lip twitched as he forced his own smile, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "Right, sorry pretty." He replied, pursing his lips at his best friend before he directed his eyes at you once more, his expression immediately softening. 

"Yeah?" You asked, raising your eyebrows as you looked between the two of them. "You mean it? You really won't fight anymore?" You continued, a hint of malicious intent behind your tone. The boys must've picked up on it because neither of them dared to move, their faces void of emotion as they looked at you expectantly, knowing something else was coming.

"Then kiss." 

It was cartoonish the way their jaws dropped in tandem, they stayed silent as they waited for you to say 'just kidding', but it never came. "What? If you're so friendly now, what's a little kiss, hm?" You said, trying to hold back your laughter at their expressions, "Unless..." You continued, your voice tone changing to one laced with faux uncertainty, "...you guys lied? You're going to keep fighting huh? Might as well end this now in that case-" Your words got caught in your throat as Gojo turned his head toward Geto and grabbed his neck harshly, forcing their faces together as he kissed him harshly.

"Oh~" You cooed, your eyebrows raising at the unexpected action. Truthfully, you were only teasing them, but you guessed they were taking this more seriously than you thought, just how bad did they want you? "Mmm!" Geto moaned against his best friend's lips in surprise as he stilled, his lips not moving against Gojo's as he did all the work, slotting his lips against Geto's.

Suguru's hand gripped Gojo's wrist in a warning as the white-haired man's fingers dug into the sides of his neck dominatingly. There was no way Geto was going to let Satoru take charge like this. You felt yourself throb between your legs when Geto released Gojo's hand and took his slender neck in his the same way Gojo was doing to him. When he squeezed, a choked moan was released from Gojo's lips into the kiss.

He had expected Geto to fight back, but he didn't expect him to be so rough. Geto started moving his mouth against Gojo's, trying to gain control. The two of them were quite literally fighting with their lips. The kiss was full of teeth, tongue, and spit as the growled agaisnt the other's lips. Saliva was dripping down Gojo's chin from how harshly Geto was licking into his mouth as he fought Gojo's tongue for dominance.

But the stubborn blue-eyed man wasn't one to back down from a fight. He tried to ignore the throbbing he felt in his boxers as he choked Geto out while he tongued his mouth, trying to stick his tongue down the other's throat. Their eyes stayed open for the most part as they looked into the eyes of the other challengingly, only fluttering shut briefly when one squeezed the other's neck, they must both be sensitive there.

"Okay, okay. I think you guys have proved yourselves." You giggled, interrupting their kiss. They detached their lips from the other at the sound of your voice, almost like they were in a daze and your voice was the key that set them free. Both men breathed heavily with red faces and lidded eyes as they looked at the other. "That wasn't so bad, was it?" You asked, trying to ignore the intense throbbing you felt between your thighs so you could tease them a little more. 

Geto released his hand from Gojo's neck, making the other follow suit before he looked between your legs and noticed a drop of your slick was sliding down your inner thigh. Suguru smirked as he wiped up the trail of your arousal before he wiped his finger through your folds, making your body jolt in surprise as he smeared the wetness agaisnt your clit, "Yeah... guess you liked it too, huh?" He asked, smirking as he slowly rubbed your little bud with his pointer finger. 

Gojo couldn't ignore the throbbing he felt between his thighs any longer as he watched Geto rub your swollen clit. He started grinding his hips into the sheets for some relief as he gripped your thigh over his shoulder for support, taking in the sight in front of him greedily. 

"H-hey... I didn't say you could touch me yet." You spoke softly, trying to keep your voice steady as you spoke, the task proving incredibly difficult from Geto's light teasing touch. "No?" he replied, it was his turn to tease you now. "But you're begging for it down here, should I just ignore what she wants? That doesn't seem very nice." Geto spoke, referring to your cunt like it was a person. 

You stayed silent, trying to hold your moans and whines back from his ministrations. "Cmon Satoru, back me up." He said, surprising the man on his left. That kiss really had done wonders, just earlier they were fighting about who got to be closer to your cunt and now they were working together to touch you? In your heart, you knew this comradery wouldn't last long, but it was nice to see if only for a little bit. 

Satoru didn't even look Suguru's way, instead, his eyes stayed zeroed in on your pussy as he reached out and used his index and middle fingers to drag through your folds near the entrance of your pussy and scoop up some of your wetness there while Geto rubbed your clit. "Oh fuck... you're right, that kiss did more for you than it did for us, huh?" Gojo teased, rubbing circles around your tight entrance teasingly, making you think he might slip his fingers in at any moment. 

Satoru looked towards the man next to him when he laughed incredulously, clearly not a sound that was backing up his previous words, no, this laugh was directed at him. "Don't play coy, I saw how you were rutting your hips against the bed. Kissing me got your dick all stiff huh?" Geto teased, laughing at his best friend. Gojo tsked, his lips curling in a snarl. He was right though, although it wasn't all from the kiss, Gojo couldn't deny that the little interaction they shared had made him horny, maybe even made him leak in his boxers a little.

"Look who's acting all high and mighty when you're as hard as I am right now. Your lucky your laying on your stomach, I bet your boner is so fucking obvious through those thin-ass shorts." Gojo shot back, both the men's fingers on your pussy pausing as they started arguing once more. You sighed, you knew they wouldn't be able to get along for longer than five minutes.

"Do you want to kiss again?" You asked, your words immediately ceasing all arguing between the boys. Honestly, they both didn't mind the kiss, they could both agree internally the other was a good kisser and they were pretty easy on the eyes, but they would rather die than admit that out loud, hence why their big egos made them shut their mouth when you threatened them with a kiss. 

"Really? You hated it that much?" You giggled, shaking your head at their childishness. "So I guess you would really hate touching each other too, right?" Your words sent chills down their spine, but not in a negative way, in a pleasant way, which shocked them both. They had pecked on the lips as high schoolers teasingly and jerked off in the same room while watching porn together once or twice, but they had never dared to cross that line.

Their silence spoke volumes, you watched their eyes dart around the room as their faces scrunched in embarrassment. You decided to give them a break, not wanting to push them too hard, but you weren't going to give up on this so easily. "Relax, it was just a question." You said, easing the tension that had filled up the room. 

"It's not nice to tease people you know," Gojo replied, leaning in to press a kiss to your inner thigh, his hair tickling your skin. You gasped quietly in surprise, your body squirming against the sheets as he continued pressing kisses against you. "A-all you do is tease people Satoru." You replied before Geto could, effectively stopping yet another argument. Geto smirked when you took the words right out of his mouth.

"I'm older than you, you should treat your elders with respect. Picking on you builds character." He replied, making you snort. 'Elders', he wasn't even that much older than you. You were about to respond when you felt his lips kiss your pussy, right against your folds below your throbbing clit. "Did that feel good?" He asked, repeating the action, making your hands fall into his hair, carding through the strands.

Looking over to Geto you noticed his face looked more relaxed than he did seconds ago. His eyes were more lidded and his mouth was slightly open in a small o as he watched Gojo kiss your pussy, not yet using his tongue against you. It was only when you noticed his shoulder moving up and down that you realized why he looked so flushed, he was touching himself. He swallowed hard before biting his bottom lip between his teeth, his eyes briefly closing as he palmed himself over his shorts for some relief. 

"Suguru... I want you to touch me too." You replied. It was so obvious he wanted to join in but didn't really know where to fit in. He was practically salivating as he watched Gojo kiss where he wanted to put his own lips. He looked up at you and gave you a lazy smile, one that made your heart skip in your chest. "Yeah? Want me to lick your pussy?" He asked, starting to lean his head closer to where you needed him.

"Hey, there's no room for you down here, go somewhere else," Gojo responded, dragging his lips down your thighs on Geto's side to emphasize his words. "Make room then," Geto responded, knocking his head against Gojo's as he leaned down and pressed a kiss to your inner thigh where Gojo just did. In his head, he was erasing Gojo's kisses, such a childish thought. 

You abandoned one of your hands on Gojo's head to rest on Geto's, digging your fingers into his hair. "P-please... do something." You begged, your voice coming out needier than you were expecting. "Ohh? Were you just telling me how you didn't give me permission to touch you? Are you giving me permission now?" Gojo asked, trying to make your words all about him.

You dug your fingers deeper into his hair, you felt your annoyance much stronger with how aroused you were, you weren't in the mood to be teased by him anymore. "Yes, fuck, both of you. C'mon, hurry." You instructed, pushing both of their heads towards where you needed them the most. 

The two men were so absorbed in their own little world with you that they bumped heads when they both tried to lick your clit at the same time. "Fuck, Satoru moves your head, I wanna suck her clit." Geto growled, knocking his head against his once more, on purpose this time. "No, you move, that's what I was going to do." Gojo shot back, his face flushed with his arousal and need to touch you.

You sighed, staying quiet this time as you wanted to see where this fight took them. Maybe they were able to figure something out without your interference, but if they couldn't, you would have to step in and fix their attitudes. 

"You're so annoying, get your own ideas," Geto responded, shoving Gojo's head harshly against your thigh, successfully pushing him out of the way so he could latch onto your clit. You gasped when you felt the plushness of his lips around your neglected bud, your back arching at the stimulation. Gojo snarled as he watched Geto get the first real taste of you, but he couldn't deny the harsh twitch of his cock in his boxers when he caught a glimpse of Geto's soft tongue poking out between his lip as he caressed your clit with it.

Gojo decided he was going to do what he wanted to do anyway, and in the process, make Geto so uncomfortable that he let Gojo take his current place in sucking your clit. His next actions had your pussy clenching around nothing. Gojo leaned in and tilted his head at an angle before sticking his tongue out and forcing his tongue under Geto's to poke at your clit.

Geto had felt Gojo's soft hair tickle the side of his face when he leaned in, but he figured the man was going to suck you lower or tongue fuck you, not make out with him while trying to lick your clit. Surugu's eyes cracked open in disbelief but not once did he cease his tongue's movements agaisnt you. Gojo moaned against your pussy with a smile on his face as he rubbed your clit with his soft tongue.

"O-oh fuck" You moaned, your back arching and legs threatening to snap in on their heads as they ate you out together. Geto's first instinct was to fight Gojo with his tongue but he realized that might hurt you in the process, and this was about making you feel good, not about his own personal grievances. 

Sighing, he tilted his head at an angle like Gojo's and released his lips from around your clit, opting to just stick his tongue out and bat the little bud with his tongue. Gojo huffed out a laugh at Geto's compromise, feeling like he had one somehow, even though he was doing the same thing Geto was.

"K-keep doing that!" You praised, realizing the men had calmed down a bit and were now slowly starting to figure out that working together can be better than working alone. "F-feels so good when you g-guys do that." Your head tipped back against the sheets as you whined their names freely, your nails digging against both of their scalps.

The longer they ran their tongues over your folds and occasionally licked each other, the more the tension dissipated and turned into a more carnal sense of need for pleasure. Gojo started trying to intentionally follow where Geto's tongue was, not only to increase the pleasure you were feeling but because it felt good to touch his tongue to Geto's. It felt forbidden, which made his whole body feel hot. 

Geto quickly caught on. At first, they were licking at your clit together, then they fell into a sort of rhythm where one of them tongued near your entrance while the other licked your clit, alternating like that. But now, they were trying to be in the same place at once, and it was heightening Geto's sensitivity.

The way no one was saying anything about it either made them feel even hotter like they were pretending nothing weird was happening. "I'm so hard." Gojo mumbled needily into your pussy, getting a coo of his name from you followed by a "Touch yourself for me." And touch himself he did. 

Geto had paused on touching himself when he started licking you, focusing more on what his tongue was doing than his hand. Once he watched Gojo sneak his hand under his body to jerk himself off in the tight space of his crotch being pressed against the bed, he started rubbing himself too. He had pushed his own arousal to the side, but from the taste of your cunt, your noises, and the constant push and pull from Gojo, he could no longer contain himself once Gojo stopped holding back.

"Mmm... fuck... I- I wanna fuck you so bad." Gojo whined against you, his voice sending vibrations through your pussy. Geto's face heat up at Gojo's words. He slowly slipped his fingers past the waistband of his shorts and boxers when his arousal grew too much. Suguru always was a whore for dirty talk. "Y-your fingers, fuck me with your fingers-" You cried, humping your hips towards their faces.

When Gojo detached his lips from your pussy to get a good look at your tight little hole, Geto took the opportunity to suckle your clit back into his mouth now that he had it all to himself. "So sweet, so fucking sweet." He mumbled, squeezing his hand around his cock harder when he felt your little bud throb in his mouth. Gojo bit his lip and quickened his strokes on himself as he started humping his hand like a fleshlight, the slide eased by how wet he was from all the pre-cum he had been leaking. 

"Geto stop for a second, I can't see," Gojo said, his voice abandoned of any real malice and instead replaced with raw need. Geto obliged, pulling his lips away from you begrudgingly, he parted your folds with his fingers for Gojo while the white-haired man rubbed two thick fingers agaisnt your tight entrance, teasing you. "You're being so nice to me now." Gojo giggled, looking over at his best friend who was holding you open for him. 

"Shut up and finger her so I can go back to eating her out." Geto deflected, ignoring the fact that Gojo was right, he was becoming too pussydrunk to fight with Gojo like before. Gojo giggled as he started to press his fingers into you, breaching your tight hole. "Satoru!!" You cried, making him bite his lip as he penetrated you fully, his fingers sliding inside you to the hilt with ease thanks to your wetness. 

"You're so fucking tight baby... fuckkk I can only imagine how well this pretty pussy takes cock." He fantasized, making his own, and Geto's cock twitch at the mental image. With lidded eyes, Gojo started slowly thrusting his fingers in and out of you before he looked to Geto, "Go ahead, she's all yours." he said with a smirk.

Geto wasted no time in sucking your clit back into his mouth, shaking his head agaisnt you as he abused you little bud. Your head was going fuzzy, the way Gojo was curling his fingers into your gspot was making you cant your hips against Geto's mouth, forcing his tongue to rub you harder. "W-wait, wait, I think I'm gonna cum-" You cried, your arms shaking from the intensity of the building orgasm.

"Yeahhh? Gonna cum all over my fingers? Let Suguru lick up your cum?" He cooed, smirking at you. Gojo's cock throbbed against the sheets when he released his hand from his cock and placed it over yours atop Geto's head, shoving him harder into your cunt. Geto moaned in surprise but internally groaned as he knew Gojo was most definitely smearing his precum all over his pretty hair.

"C'monn, you're doing the heavy lifting here," Gojo spoke to Geto who was now furiously sucking your clit, alternating between the latter motion and flattening his tongue against you and rubbing back and forth. Each time his tongue accidentally touched the base of Gojo's fingers when he pulled them out of you, and he got a taste of your wetness from the inside, his eyes rolling back in his head. How was it possible for someone to taste so sweet?

"Shit- wait- fuck I'm r-really cumming-" You cried, feeling a ball of something more intense well up in your tummy. Your words made Geto groan loudly against you, the sound coming out muffled from how hard he was pressed agaisnt you. Geto was focusing more on his tip now as he tried to bring himself to the brink of orgasm with you, but the tight space in which he was pressed against the sheets was making it hard for him to get the proper stimulation.

"Let it out, we got you baby we got you." Gojo cooed, speaking for the both of them as you rode Geto's face and his fingers. Gojo's jaw dropped with your own as your body stilled and you came. Only this wasn't like one of your regular orgasms. A warm feeling spread throughout your whole body as you came, the tight bundle in your tummy had snapped and you squirted all over Geto's hungry tongue.

Gojo moaned loudly as he fingerfucked you through your orgasm, groaning through his teeth. Geto's eyes rolled back in his head as he opened his mouth and tried to drink up as much of your wetness as he could. You could barely hear Gojo's whistle as your orgasm clouded all of your senses. You shook and writhed agaisnt the sheets as the boys worked you through possibly one of the most intense orgasms you'd ever had. 

"O-oh-" Your stomach clenched and your body jerked in on yourself as your orgasm ended and you were thrown into overstimulation when Geto continued eating you out, too pussydrunk on you to realize you had already finished. "Easyyy~" Gojo said softly, gripping Geto's hair harshly as he yanked him up and away from you. The man was breathing heavily, his face flushed red and covered with your cum as he was pulled away.

The bed sheets and your thighs were stained wet with your cum. You had no time to be embarrassed though as the only thing on your mind was getting the boys to cum too. "C-come here." You said softly, releasing their head simultaneously and nodding at them to get closer. Gojo moved quicker than Geto, who seemed to still be in a daze as they rose from their place between your thighs, your legs falling against the bed limply.

Once they were both sitting on their heels by your chest, looking at you expectantly, you stuck out your hands in an O shape. It didn't take a rocket scientist to know what you were wanting from them. You gave both men a fucked out smile as they hastily worked on pulling their erect cocks out of their pants. Geto held his cock out over your chest, stroking it slowly as he looked at you with furrowed eyebrows and an open mouth, it clearly wasn't going to take much to get him to cum. 

Looking over at Gojo, he was already fitting his cock in your weak O-shaped hand, waiting for you to jerk him off. "C'mon... you wanna touch us right?" He asked, trying to mask his need with that teasing voice of his. You smiled softly before you took both of their cocks in your soft hands and began stroking them off together, keeping the same pace and speed for both of them.

"H-hahh..." Both of their moans were mingling and tangling together, you couldn't tell who's belonged to whom. Geto was staring at your hand in a trance as you jerked him off. His mouth fluttered open like a fish out of water, his breathing coming out stuttered and uneven, you knew he was close. Gojo on the other hand, was entranced with the slick that was dripping down Geto's chin.

He licked his lips before he made a split-second decision to taste it. They had already crossed so many unspoken boundaries today, what was one more? Leaning forward, Gojo placed his hand on the back of Geto's neck and pulled his unsuspecting face toward him. Suguru's breath caught in his lungs when he felt Gojo's tongue collect the cum from his neck and chin, the white-haired man making a path from the bottom of his face to his lips, before he connected them together like before, this time of their own volition.

"Fuck.." You cursed, your face heating up as you watched the men's tongues tangle with each other. "You guys are so fucking hot." Geto groaned at your words, both of his hands wrapping around the back of Gojo's neck as he kept him against his face, relishing in how good his best friend's tongue felt against his. "I'm so close baby, keep going- f-fuck." Gojo groaned against Geto's lips, his fingers caressing the other's neck harder as his orgasm approached.

The sounds coming from their lips were so vulgar, combined with their desperate moans it was making your cunt throb. "God... m-my tip, focus on my tip," Geto instructed, starting to thrust his hips into your hand, aiding you in pleasuring him. "Your tip is sensitive?" Gojo asked, pulling away from Geto's lips to whisper against them. "I remember that when we jerked off before, you didn't notice it but I was watching you. Watching how squirmy you got when you touched yourself there." Gojo teased, working Geto up with his words.

"Ohooo, this is interesting." You giggled, feeling the men drip steady streams of pre-cum over your hand, making the vulgar squelching noises echo louder in the room. "S-shut the fuck up, S-Satoru-" Gojo spit back, averting his eyes from his bestfriend. Gojo let Geto pull his head back, their hands dropping from each other as they became seconds from cumming.

"God... god your hand feels so good princess, I-I'm gonna cum-" Geto whined, his eyes finding yours as his face scrunched in pleasure. "Cum for me Suguru, wanna watch you when you cum." You replied, making him groan loudly as his cock throbbed in your hand. "Heyyy~ You're making me feel left out," Gojo whined childishly, his hands wrapped around your smaller one that held his cock before he started thrusting into it, squeezing your hand tighter around him.

You looked over at him and shook your head as if the two men didn't just make out on top of you while you jerked them off. Your gaze was swiftly corrected by Geto's hand that gripped your chin, making you look at him. "S-said you wanted to watch me cum." He moaned, his voice breathy and high-pitched. "W-watch- f-fuck fuck fuck-" Long hot ropes of cum spilled from his cock and all over your chest, which was covered by one of Gojo's old band tee's. Something told you after today though, he wouldn't mind his shirt covered in Geto's cum.

"Good boy, fuck. You're so pretty Suguru." You praised, keeping your eyes on his face as his eyes squeezed shut and his orgasm wracked through his body, his abs clenching and his body spasming with his high. The only warning you got from Gojo was an obnoxiously loud moan before he was cumming. He grit curses through his teeth as he used your hand to milk his cock.

His cum was thinner than Geto's, but there was more of it, and his cum shot further when most of Geto's just spilled over your fingers. Geto groaned in annoyance when a rope of Satoru's cum landed on his thigh as Suguru twitched in the aftershocks of his orgasm. "So tighttt~" Gojo moaned, smiling through his orgasm as he squeezed his hands tighter over yours, almost painfully so.

"Ugh... fucking gross, you got your cum all over me Satoru." Were the first words spilling from Geto's mouth when he fully came down. Gojo wrung out his cock using your fist as he pulled it out of the makeshift pussy, making sure he gave you all of his cum. "Oh shut up, just grab a tissue you big baby." Gojo spat back, leaving his softening cock hanging out as he laid down beside you, putting his arm behind you, against the pillow you were laying on.

"No, you get me a tissue." He spat back, laying on your other side as he leaned slightly over your body to curse at the man next to you, his arm siding under your shoulders as he squinted at Gojo. "Hah???? I'm not your maid, get it yourself." Gojo retorted, looking at the man incredulously. You gave up on looking between them or trying to stop them for that matter.

You just layed there comfortably, your smaller body being squished and smothered by two large men who fought for your touch while simultaneously screaming at each other over a cum rag. You heaved a dramatic sigh, which both of them failed to catch, of course. You thought a little intimate time would bring them closer together but clearly, you were wrong. 

———————————————————————

Bonus: At some point, Geto gave in and went to the bathroom to grab Gojo a tissue, leaving Gojo to take the opportunity to grab your body and pull you on top of him, wrapping his arms and legs around you like a koala. You shook your head, sighing as you knew this would only lead to another fight. When Geto stepped into the room once more, he was met by an annoyingly smug, Gojo face, making his vein pop out on his forehead. "Oh, you bitch." He growled, marching toward the bed.

You ended up falling asleep that night quite literally crushed between two large, muscly, hot, sweaty men. If you didn't die overnight from axphixiation, that would be a miracle. Honestly, though, you were just glad they had stopped fighting, so if that meant you had to die by suffocation? So be it.

[insidekatmind]

Mission- Bucky Barnes

Wearning: +18,smut

Request: yes!

The jet lands with a jolt on the deserted runway of a private island. Outside the window, palm trees sway in the breeze, and a pink sunset paints the horizon. There’s no time to appreciate it, though. You’re here for a mission, and it’s already off to a bad start.

“I can’t believe I have to do this with you,” scoffs Bucky Barnes, throwing you a look of pure disgust.

“The feeling is mutual,old man,” you reply through gritted teeth. Your name, Y/N, is printed on the fake passport you’re holding, but your real task is far more complicated than maintaining a false identity. The mission requires you and Bucky to pose as a happily married couple to infiltrate an exclusive gala hosted by an international arms dealer.

“Wasn’t there literally anyone else available?” he asks, shaking his head.

“We’re not here for sympathy, Barnes. You’re the only one with a shady enough past to avoid suspicion.”

He laughs, but without a shred of humor. “And you’re the only one who speaks enough languages to keep up with a crooked diplomat. Just don’t expect me to pretend I enjoy being here.”

“And don’t expect a hug from me,” you reply with an icy smile.

---

The villa assigned to the two of you is luxurious: white marble, designer furniture, and an ocean view that takes your breath away. Too bad the tension in the room is heavy enough to crush any promise of relaxation.

“There’s only one bed,” you say, pointing to the massive king-sized bed in the middle of the room.

“Perfect,” Bucky replies, dropping his bag on the armchair nearby. “I’ll take the couch.”

“Not a chance. I need proper sleep for tomorrow night’s gala.”

“Don’t worry, princess,” he says with a smirk. “I wouldn’t come near you even by accident.”

You finally decided to share a bed. You were wearing shorts and a tank top as you stared at the ceiling.

Bucky lies next to you, tense and unmoving. Even without looking at him, you can feel the distance between you both, like a chasm that can’t be crossed. Your eyes wander to the ceiling, tracing the pattern of shadows in the dim light. Finally, he breaks the silence.“Do you expect me to believe that you actually need sleep?” he mutters under his breath.

"What?" You ask, turning to him.Bucky doesn't turn to you, but his voice is still laced with sarcasm. "You heard me. I know you're used to pulling all-nighters for missions. You don't exactly act like the type to need a full eight hours to feel refreshed."

You look at him with a twinkle of sarcasm. "Well this time it's different, I'm on a mission with you and I have to put up with you, so I need sleep".

Bucky rolls over onto his side, finally facing you. “Oh, so I’m such a pain that I keep you awake now?” he says with a smirk. “Is this how you treat all the people you’ve ever worked with?”

"not just old men who think they are better than others" you reply looking at him.“Old man?” He repeats, sitting up on the bed. “You’re really calling me an old man? Aren’t you supposed to flatter your partner on these missions? Or is that just reserved for the men you actually like?” he jokes.

You roll your eyes ignoring him.Bucky doesn’t get ignored easily, though. He scoots his way towards you in the bed, his prosthetic arm brushing against your arm. “What, no smartass reply? I can’t believe I’ve finally managed to shut you up,” he teases, his voice low and quiet.

“Keep your hands or I'll turn your other arm into vibranium too,” you threaten.

Bucky holds up his hands in mock surrender. “Easy, sweetheart. I’m just trying to get a reaction out of you.” He scoots even closer, so that you can feel the heat of his body next to you. “And I think I’ve succeeded.”

“Very funny arm wrestling,” you say sarcastically.“You got plenty of jokes, huh?” Bucky replies, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. He leans in a little closer, the distance between you almost vanishing. “You know, I can think of a better way to occupy that smart mouth of yours, princess.”

You turn and find yourself a little too close to him. "Oh really?" you say sarcastically.Bucky takes advantage of your proximity, invading your personal space even further. His face is inches from yours now, his breath dancing across your skin. “You’d be surprised,” he murmurs, a hint of danger in his voice. “I’ve got some ideas….”

Bucky’s fingertips graze your jaw, sending a shiver down your spine. “I wonder if you’d be this sarcastic if I took away that smart mouth of yours.”He shifts his weight on the bed, pinning you against the sheets as he leans over you. He’s so close now that you can feel the heat of his breath on your face.

"What the hell are you doing?" You murmur, looking at him above you.Bucky smirks, relishing your surprise. “What does it look like I’m doing?” he asks, his voice a low growl. His head dips down, his lips brushing against your neck. “I’m testing a theory….”

Bucky's hands roam over your body, the metal one surprisingly gentle. “Tell me your theory,” you manage to gasp as his fingers tease the edge of your tank top.Bucky's lips find your ear, his breath hot against your skin. “My theory is that your smart-ass mouth isn’t as tough as you think it is,” he whispers, his teeth grazing your earlobe. “And I bet I could find a more entertaining use for it.”

“Your theory is wrong old men” you say.Bucky laughs at that, his chest rumbling against yours. “Oh, we’ll see about that,” he says, his hand sneaking under the hem of your shirt. “I’ve yet to see you speechless. I bet I could make you speechless. I bet I could make you forget every smartass comment you’ve ever thought and make you begging for more.”

“get your hands off me” you say looking at him.Bucky's hand stills, pressed flat against your stomach. “Is that what you really want?” he asks, his voice a low murmur. “Or are you just saying that because you’re too stubborn to admit you like my hands on you?”

"Why would I like it, hm?" You murmur, looking at him.Bucky grins above you, his eyes flicking down to your lips. “Oh, I think you do. I think you like me this close to you. I think you like the way my hand feels on your skin….”

His prosthetic hand travels up, pushing under your top until you can feel the cool metal against the skin of your stomach. “I think you’re just too stubborn to admit it,” he says, his voice a sultry whisper.

His fingers trace the edge of your bra through your shirt, a light touch that sends a shiver down your spine. “I think you’re struggling to keep hold of all those smartass comments, aren’t you?” he murmurs. “I think you’re about to lose your words completely.”

“fuck you” you blurt out looking at him.Bucky laughs, his voice a deep rumble. “Now that’s exactly the kind of dirty talk I like to hear,” he replies, enjoying your reaction. His hand slips down, his fingers hooking into the waistband of your shorts. “You know, you really should watch that mouth of yours, princess.”

You could feel his hardness touching you and you looked up at him. "You like this kinky game, yes?" you murmur.

Bucky’s smirk turns into a grin, his eyes darkening with want. “I like anything that gets a reaction out of you,” he replies, his hand roaming across your hip and up your thigh. “And you’ve been giving me quite the reaction.”

His hand slips under your top, his fingers splaying across your back. He pulls you closer to him, his hips grinding against yours. “But I have a feeling we could both have some more fun…”

You hold back a moan feeling his hardness more towards you.Bucky’s smirk only widens as he hears your stifled moan. “That’s more like it,” he says, his hand moving to the back of your neck. “I was wondering how long it would take for you to make a noise for me.”

"you won't get anything from me" he murmured not with the same certainty that characterizes you.Bucky laughs, his breath hot against your skin. “Oh, princess, I think you underestimate me,” he replies. “I’ll get you to make all sorts of pretty noises for me before the night is over.”

His lips find your neck, his teeth nipping at your skin. “And you can’t fool me,” he murmurs. “I can feel you shivering, I can hear your breathing getting rougher. You like this, don’t you? You like the way I’m touching you….”

His hand is roaming over your body, pushing your shirt higher over your stomach and your chest. “Go on,” he urges, his voice husky. “Say it. Tell me you like it when I touch you like this….”

“No, I don’t,” you say even as your sighs grow heavy.

Bucky laughs at your stubbornness, but there’s an edge to it. “Oh, princess, you’re a terrible liar,” he says, his hand moving to your waist. “I know you want this. I can feel it in the way you arch your back when I touch you. And I’m not going to stop until you stop pretending.”

His mouth is on your neck now, his teeth scraping against your skin. “Stop playing games, sweetheart,” he murmurs. “Tell me you want me. Tell me you need me.”

You moan at the contact. “no, I don’t” you say in a tense voice.

Bucky’s smirk widens, his hand sliding up your leg. “Your moans don’t seem to agree with your words,” he murmurs. “I know you can’t resist me. I know you’re just as much of a mess under my touch as I am under yours….”

His hand moves farther north, slipping under the hem of your shorts. “Give in, princess,” he whispers, his voice a low growl. “Just say the words and I’m all yours….”

You closed your eyes trying not to give in but you could feel Bucky's hand playing with your thong.Bucky lets out a low chuckle as he feels you react to his touch. “There you go,” he murmurs, his fingers playing with the lace of your lingerie. “I know you’re close to breaking, isn’t that right? I know you’re just moments away from giving in…”

His thumb brushes against your most sensitive spot through the thin fabric, drawing a gasp from your lips. “Come on, princess, I want to hear you say it,” he says, his voice dripping with want. “I want to hear you admit that you want this as badly as I do…”

You moan at the touch and arch. “I hate you so much” you murmur.Bucky laughs huskily, feeling your body respond to his touch. “No, you don’t,” he murmurs, his breath hot against your skin. “You don’t hate me at all. You hate how much you want me…. How much you need me….”

His fingers toy with the waistband of your shorts, his hand edging them down your hips. “Admit it, princess,” he whispers, his teeth nipping at your earlobe. “Admit that you want me as badly as I want you….” His hand moves to your inner thigh, his touch light and teasing. “Say the words,” he urges, his voice low and rough. “Say you want me, princess. Say you need me just as badly as I need you….”

You bit your lip to keep from giving in but it was very difficult, you were wavering and you just wanted him to give you pleasure.Bucky lets out a low curse as he feels you resist him. “You’re such a stubborn little thing,” he grumbles, his hand tightening on your thigh. “But I won’t let you keep up this act, princess. I’ll break you, it’s only a matter of time…. Just say the words, sweetheart….”

His fingers slide further up your thigh, edging up under your shorts. “Just a few words, princess,” he urges, his voice rough with want. “Just tell me you want me, and then I’ll give you what you need…”

You moan again but you don't want to give in. "No".Bucky curses again, his fingers tightening on your thigh. “You’re so damn stubborn, princess,” he mutters, his voice tight with want. “But you’re also lying to yourself….”

Bucky finally leans down and kisses you passionately and hungrily.The kiss is almost violent, a clash of need and desperation. Bucky’s lips are hot against yours, his tongue seeking yours as he presses you into the sheets. He bites at your bottom lip, then leans back, his eyes dark with desire. “Say it, princess,” he growls, his hand still on your thigh. “Just say you want me….”

You moan and kiss him. Bucky laughs huskily, his hand moving up your body. “There we go, princess,” he murmurs against your lips. “That’s what I’ve been waiting for…”His lips move down to your neck, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin there and causing you to gasp again. “Say it, princess,” he repeats, his hand finally moving up to cup your core. “Just tell me you want me….”

You moan at his words and surrender to him. "I want you".Bucky lets out a low growl of satisfaction as he hears your words. “That’s what I thought,” he mutters, his fingers trailing against your skin. “I knew you couldn’t resist me for long.”

He takes your wrists in his hand, pinning them above your head. His body presses against yours, his weight holding you in place. “Now that wasn’t so hard, was it, princess?” he whispers in your ear, his breath hot and heavy.His hand slides down your body, his touch sending shivers down your spine. “But now that you’ve given in, I’m going to have some fun with you…” he murmurs, his voice dark with promise. “I’m going to make you scream for me…”

He kissed you again and put two fingers inside your panties and into your core making you moan into the kiss.Bucky lets out a low chuckle as he feels you arch against him. “That’s it, princess,” he murmurs against your lips. “Let it out. Let me hear how good I make you feel…”He moves his fingers slowly, finding a rhythm that makes you moan again. “I knew you’d feel good,” he whispers, his eyes dark with want. “

His fingers move a little faster, the pressure inside of you increasing. “But I bet I could make you feel even better…” he murmurs, his mouth moving down to your neck. “I bet I could make you scream for me".

“Bucky” you moan and arch once more.Bucky’s smirk is almost feral as he hears you moan his name. “There it is,” he mutters, his fingers working faster as they press deeper into you. “I knew you’d sound like that when you finally let yourself go…”

He bites at your neck, his teeth sinking into your skin. “And I know I can make you moan louder, sweetheart… if you beg me right…”

His fingers move again, finding a place inside you that makes you gasp. “Beg me, princess,” he murmurs, his voice rough with lust. “Beg me to make you feel good. Beg me to give you what you need…”

You felt his fingers go faster and faster inside you and you could feel yourself getting close. “Please Bucky,” you murmur.Bucky grins at your words, his fingers moving even faster. “Please, what, princess?” he murmurs, his mouth moving to your ear. “Say it. Tell me what you want me to do…”

“let me come please” You murmur moving your hips on his fingers.

Bucky grins at your pleading tone, his fingers finally getting the reaction he wanted. “That’s it, sweetheart,” he murmurs, his voice low and rough. “You sound so pretty when you beg for me like that… so pretty when you ask for what you want…”

His fingers move a little faster, going deeper. “You’re so close, princess,” he whispers, his breath hot against your skin. “I can feel it. I can feel your body tensing up… begging for release…"

He moves his mouth back to your neck, his teeth nipping at your skin as he presses his forehead against yours. “But you have to ask me nicely if you want it…” he mutters, his voice raw with need. “You have to beg me for what you need, princess…”

You whimper at his words. “please Bucky, I’m so close” you murmur.Bucky’s grin widens at your words, his fingers finally giving you what you’ve been craving. “Yeah, you like that, don’t you?” he mutters, his touch rough yet still gentle with you. “You like it when I make you beg for it…”

“please” you murmur moaning feeling yourself getting closer and closer.Bucky’s fingers move a little faster at your words, his touch more insistent as he moves against you. “Almost there, princess, you’re so close,” he murmurs, his voice a low growl. “But I need you to say those magic words. I need you to beg me one more time…”

"Bucky please" you scream.Bucky grins at your scream, his fingers moving faster than ever inside you. “There it is, princess,” he mutters, breathing hard. “You sound so pretty when you scream my name… now let go for me, sweetheart."

You moan at his words and come on his fingers. “fuck” you murmur, closing your eyes in pleasure.Bucky let out a low growl as he feels you come on his fingers. “That’s it,” he mutters, his voice rough with satisfaction. “That’s my good girl…”

He withdraws his fingers and brings them to his mouth, licking them clean. “You taste so sweet,” he murmurs, his eyes dark with lust. “I knew you’d be sweet"

Bucky leans down, his body pressing against yours. “But I’m not done with you yet, princess,” he murmurs, his voice low and dangerous. “Not even close…”

You look at him knowing you were in for a long night.

[the-kr8tor]

HI POOKIE

may I have sum Ekko 😓 please 😓

like a lazy morning where you woke up too early for your likings but can't fall back asleep, so you're just laying with him and he then starts to talk in his dreams about work and stuff and you can't help but find it funny, talking to him and having him reply back like you're part of his dreams. then you giggle too loud and he wakes up, ready to pay back for laughing on his face with lots of kisses 😈 the dream is free to choice ✨️

EKKO I MISSED YOU!!!! Thank you for requesting bleaky!! ❤️❤️❤️

Pairing: Ekko x fem! Reader

Word count: 1.2k

Tags: no use of Y/N, no specific physical description of the reader, established relationship, no s2 spoilers, cw suggestive, fluff!

Navigation

Your tired eyes open and you're met with the dim cold blue of the room. Judging by the sky right outside the window, it's far too early to be awake. Ekko lies beside you, fingers twitching, groaning like he's about to wake up after sensing that you're awake too. But as he stirs in bed, with the simple action of you placing yourself in his arm and closer beside him until his warmth ebbs through you, he suddenly stills, like a blanket of comfort draped over him. Ekko hugs you and laces his leg around your own, refusing to let you go.

You tamp down a chuckle with a hand covering your mouth. Who knew that the fearless firelights leader likes to cuddle? He sighs in his sleep, palm resting on the small of your back while his face is tucked on the crook of your neck. Holding onto his bare bicep, the scratch left by the previous patrol still left on his precious skin, you gently run your thumb over it like your touch alone could heal him.

Ekko answers with a hum against your neck, nose brushing along the curve of your jaw. At first you thought he woke up, but from how limp his legs and arms are around you, and his soft snores fan over your skin, he's absolutely knocked out. He needs the rest, so you let him sleep, eyes closing to fall back into dreamland with him.

“Scar…”

Your eyes fly open when he suddenly speaks. Craning your head gently to look at him, you find that he's still fast asleep beside you. Lashes fluttering and white hair covering his closed eyes. His fingers twitch against your spine, fingertips pressing gently on your back before resting again— He's dreaming.

“Where…” sniffing, Ekko scrunches his nose. “...where the fuck is my board?”

You almost laugh if you didn't catch yourself before you could. Your muffled giggles escape through your fingers as he grimaces, still dreaming.

“I need…” His arm tightens around you. “... I need my board.”

You've heard of people talking in their sleep before, and a fellow firelight once told you that they could answer back coherently if you ask them while they're asleep. Some would even stand up and pace around like they're going about their daily routine. So you decide to test that knowledge.

“Why do you need your board for, Ekko?” You softly ask, hand gently resting on his hip right under the tangled blanket.

Clicking his tongue as if the answer to your question is obvious, Ekko stretches his legs before falling limp around your own. “To fight.”

“There's no one to fight right now, everyone's asleep.” You say with a growing smile.

“Crime never sleeps.”

Laughing silently, your head lolls back on the pillow before he unconsciously grabs the back of your head to pull you back against him.

“Sorry.” You giggle quietly, “well you need to sleep, Ekko. You have to rest.”

“No.” He huffs, almost a whine.

Your eyes gaze at him with endearment, resisting the urge to kiss the tip of his nose. “You could get sick or worse if you don't.”

“Who's going…” his voice wavers, and you almost think the sleepy chatter is ending until he squeezes you with his legs. “Who's going to protect my girl?”

Inhaling, heart full, you really want to kiss him right now. You decide to play with his dreams some more. “Who's your girl, Ekko? Is she nice?”

“Fucking hot.” At first you gasped out silently from his unabashed revelation, but as he kicks the blanket off of him, you understood what dreaming Ekko meant.

He wraps his arms around you fully, shifting on the bed to lay himself flat on his back, dragging you with him as he lays you on top of him like you're a pillow. You let out an oof, chin tucked above his clavicle as he holds onto you. This is where you live now.

Humming, Ekko goes quiet. You thought that was the end of it for a moment, but as he whispers your name with a wince, you gaze at him sleepily.

“What is it, Ekko?” You gently move his hair off his eye. “What're you dreaming about, firefly?” Maybe he's dreaming of something sweet with you, the first meeting perhaps? Or the very first time he kissed you?

“Slowly…” he mumbles against the top of your head. “...Don't rush.”

Or maybe it's you training with him on the hoverboard while the two of you are flying above the hideout with its makeshift obstacle course hanging around the branches and roofs. As his hand moves down to the back of your knee, he grabs your leg and lifts it up to his waist, thumb drawing soft circles around your skin.

“Hey, am I winning the race?” You smile, knuckles brushing along his jaw.

He leans against your touch, smiling softly in his sleep. “...Just like that.” With a breathless sigh from his lips, face full of bliss, you know it's not a hoverboard race he's dreaming about.

You can't quiet down your laughter anymore as you roll away despite his arms around you, effectively bringing him down with you.

Ekko wakes up, one eye open as he finds himself halfway on top of you while you hide your searing cheeks from him.

“Wha–what happened?” He asks throatily, “are you okay?” Taking your hand away from your face, his eyes narrow at your grinning face, nose scrunching and with a questioning expression.

“It's nothing, Ekko.” You say in between bouts of flustered giggles. “I just had a really good dream.”

“Yeah?” He sleepily says, laying his head on your chest as he rests.

“Yeah.” You run your hands all over his back. “Did you have a good dream?”

Ekko sniffs at the cold air like he's contemplating. “I don't remember it.”

“Oh really?”

Lifting himself up by his elbows, he gazes at you through half lidded eyes. “You know something, don't you?”

You shake your head innocently, fingers cupping his chin and watching as the rising sun bathes the side of his face. “Nope, nothing.”

“No, you know something. I know you do.” Ekko leans closer, nosing your own fondly. “Tell me, was I talking in my sleep.”

“You? No,” you mumble with a lilt. “You were very quiet.”

“Tell me.” His brown eyes narrow, lips curving into a playful smile. “C’mon, tell me.”

“No, because there's nothing to tell—!” You're met with a barrage of kisses, giggling with each kiss while his hands hold you down by your waist.

“Tell me!”

“Never!”

Ekko pauses, eyes softening as his hair falls over his face. “What if I say please?”

“Why would I tell you if you already know?” You raise a brow at him, palms on his bare chest as he inhales above you.

“Shit,” his face falls from embarrassment. “I was talking?” You nod, humming. Head falling down your neck, he lets out a groan.

“It's okay, firefly, it happens to the best of us.” Chuckling, you pat his back comfortingly, albeit teasingly too.

Ekko suddenly lifts his head up, a smile slowly appearing in the corner of his lips as you know what his shining eyes convey. “You wanna recreate the dream?”

[onlyrains]

[5:21pm]

genre: comfort, fluff wc: 1.1k ┊not proofread!

you are nothing near from being the greatest singer of the century, to begin with. you're not even a singer at all. but layla, a border collie of your best friend's–jake, might be your first fan ever.

whenever she sees you around in some comfortable circumstances, she's never hesitate to lay down beside you and sometimes even rest her jaw on your thigh. on top of that, one day when jake come to your place to check on you while you lay sick on your bed, she also lies and put her paw on your arm.

she keeps ignoring her nature as one of the most active and energetic breed and you have a soft spot for her also. so of course, you always gladly sing for her. you even made a playlist to sing for her, which full of coldplay's old songs that you found she loves the most.

as an owner, jake found this quite beneficial sometimes when he needs to done his things but very much confused at the same time. what's up with your voice? he's a good singer too. people even recognize him for that. but why's his dog, his best buddy, his love, never react the way she does for you?

"she's my child, jake." you always say.

"stop saying that. i literally clean, do the chores, and work for her?" and he always replies.

today, as he promised yesterday, he came to your place with layla. and no, you're not sick today, it's apparently the opposite. he arrived with a pissed, frustrated face and refuse to talk fifteen minutes ago. he's just walks around your living room with his disheveled white office shirt.

you continue to read your book while playing with layla's hair and humming to coldplay's song. you make sure to open your bedroom door widely to let him know that he can come in when he's ready. it's not the first time you've seen jake in this state and you know the best way to deal with it is just let him do anything he wants. he will talk about it when he's tired.

speaking of which, the tail of your eye catches his movement towards you. well, maybe it is a very serious matter since he has never got tired this quick.

"what's up?" you snap, closing your book on your stomach. layla got up at your sudden movement as she sees her owner walks in your direction. she jumps on the floor and her favorite song is now long gone.

"jake?" he sits on layla's spot earlier and lets out a deep sigh.

"it's work." his eyes looking at the white sheets beneath him and draw an imaginary circle with his index.

"i know. wanna talk about it?"

he drags his body to lay next to you, head burried in your pillow while his arms stretched out to his side and your neck, almost choking you.

"i don't know, girl. i'm just... tired."

"is it that bad?" you ask carefully.

he nods. "there's a problem with the project and this mf blame me for it," he groans. thank god your pillow muffled his voice.

"oh? what a prick."

"can you sing for me?" he raises his head.

you never turn your head so fast.

"what?" you blurt out a laugh.

he lies on his side, perfectly facing you. "oh, c'mon. you always make layla chill out with it."

"but you're not layla?"

"i'm her owner, you know. she's my daughter. like father like dau–"

"okay, stop. you started sound silly,"

"babe, c'mon. i just need to sleep. you know how much effort i put on this project? i barely had a proper sleep,"

as soon as that pet name came out of his mouth you know it's hard to win over him. he will starts pleading as soon as he can, so you let out a heavy sigh and stretch out your arm reluctantly.

"c'mere,"

the next thing you know, he already burried his head on your shoulder. well, actually, this is your first time being this close with him in this kind of position despite your nth years of friendship.

so when he’s seemingly already found his spot on the crook of your neck, you can't help but squirm a little, but jake is too quick to catch your waist to prevent you from moving anywhere.

"don't move." he says against your neck.

you bite your inner cheek to hold back a sharp gasp that almost come out of nowhere.

you take a deep breath before placing your hand on his head, brushing his hair lightly. you decide to continue to sing to spark, which was previously forcibly cut off.

"my heart is yours," you start to whisper.

"it's you that i hold on to,

that's what i do,

and i know i was wrong,

but i won't let you down,

mmm, yeah, i will, yeah, i will, yes, i will," your voice get slightly lower.

"i said, oh,

i cry, oh,

yeah, i saw sparks,

yeah, i saw sparks." you massage his scalp lightly.

"sing it out,

la la la la la la,"

you feel his breathing becomes steady while in fact he's just enjoying his action to inhaling your scent that mixed with a soft fragrant from your newly washed sweater. he has never been this relax in a long time.

you keep on with the lyrics in humming as your eyes glued to the plain ceiling of your room. you feel his arm is still lazily attached to your waist then what are you doing, really? is it normal to cuddle your friend from high school? is it okay to comfort your guy friend like this?

you haven't finished think about that but jake already raised his head.

his eyes slightly red from the drowsiness that suddenly hit him but the smile on his mouth is as wide as ever. "y'know, layla actually has a good taste."

a heat suddenly strikes your cheek, causing it to turn to a shade of red.

his head turns to his dog on the floor. "dang, my girl is talented, for real."

you roll your eyes at him. "okay, now move."

he's quick to back on his previous spot, even more suffocating right now as he pulls you impossibly close to his body.

he tilts his head upward to face you. his wet eyes stares at you so innocently, which quite opposite to his actions that practically hugging you so tight while trying to sleep.

"ey, c'mon, don't be so stingy," he snuggles to you, again.

you bite your lip this time. maybe you just as tired as him, but you swear, you saw the sparks.

[utterlyotterlyx]

White Flag

Cassian x Rhys!Sister Reader

Summary - There had never been a moment where you and Cassian had seen eye to eye, despite his attempts to make peace and make a friend of you, it wasn't something that you wanted.

Warnings - angst, swearing, teasing, back and forth banter, mentions of blood

The Day Court had become your home from the moment you had decided that you couldn't bear to be around Cassian any longer. Luckily, Helion was a good friend of yours even if he wasn't overly fond of your brother and his inner circle. and granted you sanctuary before you had even finished asking him the question.

A part of you didn't even know how it had all started, that outlandish flare of dramatic hatred that passed between you whenever you were too close. Maybe he was threatened by your athletic prowess and strength, maybe you despised how often a new female ended up in his bed

Things had come to an abrupt head when you had punched him square in the nose for making a comment about your mood, asking if your cycle was drawing near. Blood gushed from his nostrils and he stuttered back a few steps, cradling the now broken bone and groaning as blood dripped onto the floor.

"Why is he bleeding?" Rhys had enquired after entering the room, sensing the stench of blood through the closed door of his office.

Cassian stood by the sink, bloody rag clasped around the injured affect, "Because he's an idiot," you replied with astounding calmness, feet propped up on the arm of the chair and your fingers flipping idly through the pages of your book.

"I didn't know that idiocy caused people to just start spontaneously bleeding from the nose."

You had hummed, a smirk pulling at your lips when you noticed Cassian's hazel gaze ripping through you, "I think it's a new phenomenon."

Rhys had usually kept out of your spats, like the rest of the inner circle, they knew your sass was not something to play with, it was unfortunate how Cassian skipped over that fact.

Then there were the countless family dinners that were interrupted, and sometimes ruined, by your joint fire.

"You know, Cassian," his ears pricked upward but his eyes narrowed, he'd like to believe that maybe for once you'd say something nice to him, to stop this feud between you, "Remember that one time I said that you were cool?" He nodded, falling victim to another one of your games as the room held a collective breath, Rhys already pinching the bridge of his nose, "I lied."

Cassian growled, slamming his fork down on the table and standing from his seat, the chair skidding along the wood with his brute force, "I can't help imagining how much more awesome the world would be if your dad had just pulled out."

You were smirking, that shit-eating smirk you always wore when you managed to get him to bite, "Please, save your breath, Cassian," you cooed obnoxiously, popping a honey soaked carrot into your mouth, "You'll probably need it to blow up your next date."

Azriel had choked on his wine and you spared him a sidelong glance, convincing yourself that if Cassian's red face turned one shade darker then he'd surely erupt in flames.

Then there were the missions that Rhys had assigned you and Cassian to, he thought forcing you two to work together would put an end to the nonsense that was your tiff. Azriel was the unlucky one who had to accompany you both so that you didn't wind up killing one another.

An ash arrow hurtled past your face, grazing the tip of your pointed ear, you had dodged its full puncture successfully and heaved out a sigh as you took cover behind a nearby tree, "Oh my gosh, did you see that?! I almost just died!"

Cassian had sauntered past you, sword coated in the blood of your enemies, strands of brown hair falling from his bun, and dirt dusting the side of his face, he grinned at you, "Tragic that you didn't."

Azriel audibly groaned, sick of both of you, it had been three full days of trudging around the outskirts of the winter court, he was freezing, Cassian was making his head pound with his constant complaining, and you were certainly catching a cold.

The Shadowsinger had finally had enough when he had heard you and Cassian arguing at the edge of the clearing, the latter had gone to bathe, to wipe away the blood and dirt from his skin, only to turn around and find that his clothes had been plucked from the bank.

"I didn't do it," you told him through laughs as Azriel approached, Cassian was stood in the water up to his impeccable v line, fists clenched and seething through his teeth as his body shivered from the cold.

"Then why are you laughing?!"

You were leaned against the trunk of a tree, clad in your warm clothing that Rhys had insisted you wear, badass or not, you were still his little sister, "Because whoever did it is a freaking genius."

Rhys had had enough of it. Of all of it.

An ultimatum had been delivered to you both, after being pulled into Rhys' office by the scruffs of your necks by Azriel, you had been told that one of you had to move out of the House of Wind permanently. Though, Rhys' plans of keeping you apart had completely backfired when you had stood up and told him that you were leaving the Night Court altogether, the words shaking the room enough that even Cassian felt guilty that your feud had become so severe that you actually wanted to leave your home court.

"And go where?" Rhys had rose, that power pulsating around him like a heartbeat, a drowning effect that made you all feel dizzy as his eyes darkened and jaw clenched.

"The Day Court," you stated like it was already decided, "Helion has offered me a place within his court and I accepted. I leave tonight."

"Over my dead body!" Rhys rumbled, it was deadly enough for even Azriel's shadows to cower behind him whilst Cassian looked at you bewildered.

Ticking your tongue against the roof of your mouth, you quipped, "Well, go lay down and die then because I'm not going to be told what to do, especially not by you."

"You are my sister. You are a Princess of the Night Court."

"And I am allowed to make my own decisions regarding my life and future," you looked to Cassian and frowned, your eyes dipped with an emotion he'd never seen in you, "And, right now, my life is not here."

That was how you found yourself within Helion's court, doused in white and gold, with tanned skin from the bright never-ending sun, with your toes dipped in sand and the ocean breeze drifting through your hair.

It had been a year since you had left Velaris, and gods, you missed the City of Starlight so much. The Day Court was wonderful, beautiful in its own incredible way, but it wasn't Velaris, your home.

Helion had found you walking along the sandy shores when you should have been readying yourself for the ball starting in a few hours. Rhys and the entirety of your former family were visiting to celebrate the announcement of Feyre's pregnancy, stopping in every court bar Autumn and Spring to spread the joy, to signal a new age for Prythian after all of the torment they had been subjected to.

"I would have thought you'd be ready by now," Helion noted, watching your cream coloured dress float in the breeze, you held your shoes between your fingers and gazed outward to the ocean.

You hummed, "Part of me isn't looking forward to it," you admitted.

The time you had spent in the Day Court had made you softer, had given you a new perspective. There was much more to love in life than arguing and feuding, and you had spent a little over two weeks trying to figure out why you and Cassian could never seem to get along.

Helion draped an arm over your shoulder, his golden crown shimmering in the sunlight that was usually focused on you, focused on making your skin glitter and smile, "It's been a year since you left, I'm sure they're all looking forward to seeing you."

"Or telling me how much easier their lives have been without me," you laughed sadly, slumping into his side softly as he turned to lead you back up to the palace.

"You're a changed woman now, Y/N. I think that more than anything they'll just be happy to see you thriving."

Fuck.

You were so late. So late that it would be noted as disrespectful no matter how much longer you took. Helion was right, you should have been readying yourself much earlier rather than trailing your toes in the sand.

Helion had gone to great lengths to secure you the most spectacular dress anyone had ever seen. A rich gold garment that snaked tightly around your breasts and curved perfectly over your thighs and ass, no sleeves attached to it, but he had gifted you a set of matching arm cuffs and one for your thigh which was exposed by a high slit, as well as ear cuffs which gave a subtle nod to the Day Courts abilities to hone their gifts of invention.

You were practically running down the halls whilst putting your heels on and clasping your necklace around your neck, taking a sharp left which you knew would lead you to a more secluded entrance where you hoped you could slip in unnoticed.

Sliding through the small opening in the wall, you ducked your way along the length of the room, popping up and smoothing your dress out before reaching for the nearest passing tray of flutes, downing half of the liquid to make it seem like you had been there for longer than you had.

"Very smooth, Y/N," A familiar voice purred with amusement laced in his voice, you turned to find Azriel stood behind you, he looked surprised as he took you in, acknowledging the tanned hue and glow that had possessed your skin, your violet eyes seemed a shade or two lighter than Rhys'.

"Az," you breathed, placing your flute down on the table beside you and throwing yourself into his open arms, you both laughed, and he inhaled your scent, salted summer oceans and velvety rose petals.

Pulling back, you smiled up at him brightly, showing all of your teeth. It was like Day had thrown up on you, though, Azriel couldn't deny that gold most certainly agreed with you. Another force jolted into your side and you lifted your arm to find Mor bundled into your ribs, squeezing you tightly and refusing to let go to the point you had to physically unwind her from you.

"I've missed you so much," her bottom lip wobbled as tears gathered in her eyes, you reached for her, wiping the stray droplets with your thumb.

"You know I'm only like ten minutes away from you, right?"

"Not the point, Y/N," a deep voice drawled, it made you shiver, and before you could even properly move to find the owner, you were already gathered up in his arms, "Hello, little sister."

"Hi, Rhys," your eyes found Feyre stood a few feet away from you, a hand cradling her swelling bump, you moved to her, looking down at that bump, "Congratulations, I'm so happy for you."

Rhys couldn't deny that you seemed different, that you had changed since the night you had left Velaris after your argument, after the ultimatum he had wrongfully forced on you. Feyre had told him that you would be fine, that you deserved to see what life could be outside of Velaris, that you would one day come home to them a different woman than the one who had left.

They all watched as Feyre guided your hands to her stomach and you felt your nephew wriggling around and kicking, "Hey, stop kicking your mama," you had bent down to whisper, "She's been through enough," and the little thing within her halted, settling into a comfortable position and Feyre sighed with relief.

Straightening your posture, you took your flute and took another sip, feeling overwhelmed by all you had missed, "I'll be back in a minute," you told them, Rhys moved to follow after you but Feyre stopped him, she knew how much it must have been for you, she was always the understanding one.

Your usual haven was empty when you had reached it, a white stone balcony at the end of a secluded hallway that looked out onto the lapping waves colliding with the mountain upon which the Day Court Palace lay.

A single tear flowed down your face and you heaved in a breath, trying to control yourself by clutching onto the stone railing. Your hair whipped around your face, and the fire lanterns flickered in the breeze.

"I know that we aren't friends, but if you need me to punch somebody out, you know I can and will," the voice you used to grimace at called to you from a metre or so away.

Spinning on your heels, you saw Cassian before you, illuminated by the moonlight so that you could see his unbound hair and muscular chest that peeked out from his undone shirt, "Thanks, but I'm good," you sniffled softly, grabbing your flute and finishing off the sparkling liquid inside of it before placing it back onto the stone ledge.

Cassian frowned at you, his eyes roamed over your face and figure, smiling in approval at your bright eyes and tan skin, and the masterfully tailored dress and accessories you adorned. There was something soft about you.

"It's good to see you, Cassian. You look happy," the admission tugged sadly at that ball of bliss inside of you, the ball that had been enriched and glowed like starlight.

He approached you, stepping out into the night and understanding why you had blindly led yourself there, he had followed you, noticing how you weren't paying much attention to where you were going and simply allowing your feet to carry you there.

"I could be better," he expressed, taking another step closer to you and finding nothing untoward in your expression, no anger, no distaste, nothing but warmth, "It's weird seeing you not being mad with me."

A gentle laugh pushed through you, it crinkled at the corner of your eyes, "If it means anything, I don't think I was ever really mad at you."

"Yeah?" Cassian coaxed, wanting more of an answer from you.

The lanterns scattered light over the side of your body, the small speck of glitter in your jasmine body oil shimmering softly, "I think I was jealous of you if anything," you had turned away from him and propped your elbows up on the stone platform, staring up at the stars longingly, "You're a true Illyrian and I'm not, not since I lost them," your shoulders rolled, and Cassian saw the faint crescent moon scars ripple at the movement, "I think I saw you as reckless, you were making so many stupid moves that could end up with you being hurt or losing your own wings," you flinched at the thought, "I'm sorry."

"I get it," he told you, mirroring your stance and looking upward at the sky which held nothing on Velaris, "I think I'd be the same if I were in your shoes."

Cassian on some level had always known that you harboured some resentment toward them, for their privilege of not having to worry about having their wings clipped. It had broken them all when it had happened to you, that was the moment you'd turned cold toward him, causing more arguments than anything else.

"This court has changed me, I'm not that person anymore. I hope you know that."

Cassian grabbed your wrist as you moved to walk away, pulling you flush to his chest and tensing as his rough fingers ghosted over your cheek, "I never thought you were that person. I tried to fix it, you know, fix whatever I had done wrong. I was the one who made sure you always had enough strawberries in the house and made Feyre swear to take credit for it. I was the one who made sure your bathroom cabinet was always stocked full of bath oils and healing creams, not Mor. That gift three solstices ago you loved so much, the blanket made from the dresses of Selene and your mother, that was me too, not Az."

"But why? We hate each other?"

"I never hated you, the truth couldn't be more opposite," you could feel his heart beating through the silk of his shirt, through the satin on your dress, he grazed his fingers around the cuffs on your ears, "I love you actually, a lot, and I stupidly thought that if all the words I could get from you were teasing jabs then it would be enough, just to hear your voice."

"You love me?"

Cassian grinned, lowering himself and stopping only millimetres away from your lips, sparks of fire sparking between them, "Always have, Princess," when you didn't move away, he closed that gap between you and allowed the world to explode into a kaleidoscope of colour around your forms, you fisted into his shirts, pulling him closer, and his hands found the small of your back, leaning into you.

Panting, you pulled away, opening your eyes to find his hazel spheres pressing into you, his nose touching your own. You laughed, a laugh that send shivers of joy down his spine, "I can't believe we were in love all this time. I swore I would never become this trope."

Cassian chuckled, a rich a deep thing that made you yearn for him, he kissed you again, with more hunger than you had ever felt, "Who doesn't love a good cliché, my formiddable mate?"

Authors Note

I'm happy now x

[curseofaphrodite]

mutiny.

pirate!sylus x spy!reader

summary: dealing with secrets was your thing but with him, you weren't sure how long the lies would hold up.

Rumors of a royal spy being infiltrated in the pirate ship had always been floating around, but now someone might have actual evidence? In many ways, this day was long overdue, at least for you.

Spy or not, the work you put into the ship was real enough. Starting off the lowest rank with no intention of doing anything other than collecting information for puny royal coins, you quickly came to realize that pirate life had its own certain appeal. The sailors were mad, but they had each other's backs when it mattered. The food and music were an unexpected bonus.

The only downside you could think of was the ship's Second-In-Command.

You had called out on Sylus's shitfuckery from day one and he had grown a secret grudge against you from then. Alright, it might not have been that big of a secret because everyone knew about it. You thanked your lucky stars that he was not the Captain, because he'd have made you walk the plank way before this.

What if he's the one who has the evidence against me? you thought bleakly. No Y/N, they don't know who the spy is yet. They just have the evidence one exists. If I could just find the proof and destroy it before they link it to me...

"Lost in your thoughts, sweetheart?" Lelya, the ship's self-proclaimed sorceress, asked quietly. "Would you like an apple?"

"No, I'm full," you responded, trying to stay cool. Whatever happens will happen and you'll have to meet it when it does. There were many sailor sayings about it but none sounded comforting.

"We're working it off in our next heist then," Sylus barged into the scene with a triumphant smile. He was wearing his usual black long coat, which was a striking contrast to his plain white hair. There were stories that his hair used be colourful, that a mermaid stole its life when he broke her heart — and knowing Sylus, it was probably true.

"Ay, we just had our heist. Let us rest a while." One of the older pirates said, not even opening his eyes.

"Oh, I wish I could say something about that. This heist is involuntary."

"Involuntary?" you groaned. "Please tell me this isn't your way of letting us know that —THE SHIP IS UNDER ATTACK!"

You yelled the last part because the ship was, indeed, under attack. A giant vessel with royal blue banners was sending their canons loose, and the pirates in your ship had started to run amok. You knew most of them were just going to alert the captain, but the scene unnerved you just the same.

"We're going to need weapons," Sylus said, smirking a bit.

You shot him a sharp glance. "No, we only need weapons if they get in. All we need to do is get ourselves far away."

"This is the work of the spy." The Captain walked in, a faraway look in is face. "Sylus, you said you've found who it is?"

Shit.

"I said I'm close," Sylus replied, and if you weren't busy gasping as several things fell into place, you would have understood that he took one more step to you.

The spy is close.

Sylus is the one with the proof?! In a way, this cut down your work in half. You just need to sneak into his room and find it. But if he knew, it's not like he wouldn't have handed over the proof already.

Don't be stupid, Captain would have drowned me if he knew. You thought in exhaustion.

"Work faster," he snapped at Sylus. The latter didn't look offended, which meant he was smug. Which meant he really was just scaring you.

I don't know how the royal ships found us but it wasn't because of me. I'd never sell these people out. You wanted to say, to plead — but your ego kept your mouth closed. He walked away, whistling some tune.

You turned to the direction of the royal ship and sighed. You could think of your doom later. Right now, you need to fight.

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

The next hour went in a quick blur. There were commands being thrown around and there were casualties, but luckily, no deaths. It seemed as if destroying the ship was what the royals wanted, but so far, they held up well on their own. Past the smoke and the screams, it got to a point where the other side was silent.

With your heart beating against your chest, you slowly got up from the ground, where everyone else was kneeling to protect themselves. You could see the royal ship close enough, but there was nary a sound.

"Everyone alive?" Sylus asked from behind, and you let out a breath you didn't know you were holding in. You were almost sure you hadn't seen him through most of the fight, but that isn't to say he had hidden. There was a slit down his face, and he appeared beaten up.

"Wha—"

"One of the fuckers got in. I was dealing with him."

"Is he—?"

"A drowning corpse right this second? Yes." Sylus winced when you involuntarily put a hand over his shoulder. You were only trying to get a clearer view of his wounds, but you jumped just the same.

"Sylus, you can't—"

"DUCK!" Someone yelled, and you looked up to see darkness fill the sky. Or at least, a cannon heading straight towards where you and Sylus stood.

Adrenaline shot into your head and you pushed yourself against him, pulling both of you out of harm's way. While the cannon hit the place you stood moments ago, you realized you weren't completely out of danger's reach.

There was a ringing in your head and you were completely knocked out.

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

The cot you were resting on was deeply uncomfortable. You opened our eyes and tried to get up, but the pain pulled you right back into the sheets.

"Take it easy," Sylus's voice almost scared you as much as it bought you comfort. With a dizzy head, you sat up straight and saw him perched on the end of your bed, as if he might run away any second.

"How are you unharmed?"

"They never intend to harm me, Y/N." He looked at you earnestly. "You're smart enough to answer me this: why would this ship have a royal spy?"

Blood drained from your face. You glanced at his hair for a second — the silver that you knew wasn't because of depressed mermaids.

"Why?" he asked. "Why not other pirate ships? Why ours?"

"It's— well, it's almost as if what they're looking for is only on this ship." You answered, sighing. He frowned, so you quickly added, "Is anyone else hurt?"

"Oh no, that was the last cannon." Sylus smiled at you, something so rare that you were taken aback. "You saved my life."

The statement was simple. He didn't sound grateful, just a little surprised. You tilted your head as if to say, I'd do it again.

"Listen," you took a breath, not knowing how to convince him you weren't the bad person he probably thought you were. "I didn't know the attack was going to happen. I had no part in that."

He frowned again. "I know that."

"No seriously, all I do is give them your co-ordinates. They just want to protect you."

"Y/N?" He stood up, looking taller than usual. Or maybe you were just shrinking by his glare. "Tell me you're fucking joking right now."

"What?" your sound was so quiet you weren't sure if it actually came out.

"You're the spy? YOU?" He looked so... hurt. You stood up, not knowing what to say.

"You knew this already! Stop acting like you didn't!"

"I found a weapon with royal insignia from David's locker. I thought HE was the spy, not the girl who spends every waking moment arguing with me — not you!" He ran his fingers through his hair, turning away. His next words were almost timid. "How can it be you?'

It occurred to you that him asking about the spy was not because he suspected you but rather, he just wanted your information. That he actually cared about what you had to say. That thought only made you more depressed.

"Sylus I—"

But like a child after embarrassing himself, he walked away, leaving you alone. You didn't what he did after that. You didn't know if he told the Captain right away, or whether he waited till after dinner. You didn't know what he thought of you, but when two pirates came to you in the middle of the night with shackles, you were hardly surprised.

When they threw you in the cell of the ship, you didn't object much. You were too tired. You could sense Sylus standing outside the bars, blending in with the shadows. You could sense his broken trust, and you could feel him leaving.

Once the shock dissipated, you looked around the cell and saw it wasn't empty. There were piles of stolen goods and treasures, but the one that caught your eye was the royal crown. It was small — fit for a prince rather than a king. You knew that out of all of them, this was the only thing that actually belonged to Sylus.

Sylus hated you because you knew his biggest secret. And while you held his crown, the one he ditched and ran away from years ago, you wondered if you were just a reminder of the past that he was running away from.

The thought made you guilty, but for now, you needed an escape plan.

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

kofi | commissions

[basket-of-cats-and-witches]

Carry my heart (and hold it gently in your arms)

Another Emmrook piece! I just feel like this old man is too smooth, and needed early pre-relationship old man flustering. Ghil can be a poetic flirt, as a treat.

Feat. My Ingellvar Ghil'danan, and the bone daddy himself, Emmrich Volkarin.

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

Strong arms wrapped around him, sliding under his knees and around his shoulders. There was something about the scent that soothed him, kept him from startling even as he blinked awake.

Something floral, like the soap Ghil used.

Dazed, Emmrich looked up, his eyes adjusting to the weak light. White hair turned to pale gold in the candlelight, spilling over a broad chest and draping across Emmrich’s lap.

“Rook?” He asked sleepily, before the full reality of the situation hit him. “R-Rook!” He flailed uselessly, locked firmly in place by Ghil’s embrace.

“Shh. You fell asleep, professor.” The warrior’s low tone was melodic and even as he climbed the stairs.

“You could have just woken me up!” Emmrich protested.

Ghil snorted. “We tried. Dozing off at dinner…should I take you on less missions?”

Emmrich glared, smacking Ghil’s chest. His ears were hot with embarrassment. “I'm not an invalid!” He scolded sharply. “You requested an expert on the Fade, which requires me to-”

A rumbling chuckle cut him off, the vibrating sensation warm and deep against his side. “I know,” Ghil said, almost affectionately. “I'm just teasing.” He paused at the top of the stairs, glancing down at the professor. “Would you like me to set you down now?”

No.

“Yes,” Emmrich lied. How mortifying it was to feel the longing rise up in his chest, a sweet ache he could not deny. “I'm perfectly able to walk to my own quarters. Where is Manfred, anyway?”

Ghil gently set him on his feet, and again the professor was struck with how startingly tall the elf was. Nearly his own height.

“In your room,” Ghil replied. “I asked Manfred if he’d prep your bed for you, just in case you didn't wake.”

Emmrich truly blushed at that. “You would have taken me all the way to my bed?”

The warrior opened his mouth, snapping it shut as if closing off a sudden thought. He coughed shyly. “Of course.” Whatever had run through his mind had caused a bloom of pink across his skin, flustering Ghil nearly as much as Emmrich. “Wherever…” his voice lowered, grew softer and more intimate. “Wherever you need me to carry you, I'll always be more than happy to.”

Something about those words caught Emmrich's attention. The lingering insinuation, perhaps of something…?

No. It couldn't be. Rook couldn't be interested in…

Fidgeting, Emmrich straightened his clothes. “Well,” he said weakly. “I appreciate the offer. And…thank you for carrying me.”

Ghil's lids lowered, heavy and inviting. “Anytime, professor.”

“You know what I prefer to be called,” Emmrich croaked out. If only anyone else was here. If only the low lights didn't lend an intimate, private touch to their conversation, as if they were the only two people in the entirety of the Lighthouse.

If only he were younger, braver.

The warrior stepped closer, reaching out, making Emmrich’s breath catch.

He plucked a long white hair off the professor's shoulder, smiling softly.

“Sorry. It's the worst part about having long hair,” he commented, pulling away.

Emmrich nodded. “Of course. Thank you, dear Rook.”

“Professor. Say my name.” The command was soft, but everything in Emmrich’s mind leapt to obey.

“Ghil’danan,” he whispered hoarsely.

The look he was rewarded with practically turned his insides to jelly, filling him with heat. He was far too old for stomach butterflies, for the yearning of a new infatuation.

And yet.

Ghil took his hand, lifting it up and examining the rings there absentmindedly.

“If the sound of my name on your lips is the last thing I hear, I don't think I'd mind,” he commented casually.

By all that was good, this man was sent to kill him personally. Nevermind Lucanis, the true assassin was right here.

His cheeks flared with heat as Ghil leaned down to kiss his knuckles, that lilac gaze flicking up to pin the professor in place.

“Goodnight…Emmrich,” he murmured, before stepping away.

Emmrich found himself at a loss for words. Those lips had been so soft against his skin, the sensation lingering like veilfire long after Ghil had vanished from sight.

Letting out a shaky breath, Emmrich slumped against the wall.

A snicker caught his attention.

Taash leaned in the hallway to their room, just barely in sight.

“Get it, professor,” they said, smirking before slinking back into their quarters.

Emmrich just covered his face and wished he could sink into the floorboards.

[mrsackermanfeed]

ProfessorKentoNanami x CollegeStudentBlackReader (NSFW Link )

TEACHERS PET

Your cute little skirt in his lap , legs folded that you sat on , he slammed down that framed picture of his wife and him on there wedding day .

And slid his wedding band into his dresser , while tugging your panties aside , “ I get a A , you promise?” He sighed and slid his fingers into that tight wet cunt .

“Promise bunny “ he sung at the sound of your slick puckering on his fingers , she didn’t feel bad , not one inch , she heard the arguments when he left class when his wife called , but she knew she was a silly girl too him , too think he would leave his wife for her .

So she enjoyed what was offered , he knew she had daddy issues and that’s what kept him stuffing her full of lies , lies that he would love her and protect her from anything that tried too hurt her .

“Mr.Nana- “ he pulled his fingers from her sopping entrance , picking her up by her thighs before swiping away anything in the way on his desk keeping him from fucking her .

“Come on bunny class is over “ he slammed her down on the desk , and yanked her panties off her thighs , leaving her in the cute plaid skirt , “ I’m sorry daddy I forgot “ he sighed heavily that name making him almost cum in his pants .

“That’s it , good girl “ he replied leaning toward you taking his belt off and pushing your knees up , he grabbed the back of your head pushing it against his , and put one on your lower back so he could look right into your eyes .

Sinking into you , he sighed , still not breaking that contact but watching you fall apart , “ shit “ you cursed , at his stretch as his mouth hung , before pulling out he rammed back into you, leaning on your elbows his hands pulled on your cute white bra , tugging it off your chest as your nipples perked , and your breast jumped , you sighed softly.

Pouting up at him , he sighed , before flipping you fully so you would be laying down , he leveled his knee on the desk keeping it steady and he hovered over you while sinking himself deeper , words couldn’t explain why he loved doing this why he needed you but he did , you made it better for him in this stupid marriage he had .

He was angry , she cheated first in the marriage , you always asked him why he just now started too pay attention too your flirty comments that was because he didn’t wanna hurt his wife , but the night he came in tired , watching his friend of three years fuck up into his wife it hurt him .

“Dad- daddy it hurts “ you hicked, he didn’t realize his speed he was hurting you , tears welding in your eyes he grabbed your waist picking you up and hugging onto you , “ I’m sorry princess , I don’t mean it , I’m sorry ok?” You pouted while he still slammed you up and down on his cock .

You hummed, burying your cries in his neck , he smiled , and sat in his chair pulling you out of his shoulder , he smiled softly, “better ?” He slowly lifted your body fucking you , “ yes “ you hicked , and he pushed the big curls from your face and brushed them behind your ears .

“I love you “ she nodded and laid on his chest “ I love you too “ she lifted crying his neck “ I’m gonna cum daddy “ he smiled and rubbed your back , “ I’m here , you can “ he smiled softly.

He knew exactly what he wanted from you and why he kept this going , he needed you , you made him happy and that was the end of his marriage .

His condom broke and he felt all the warm liquid slip into you before he was picking you up and sitting you on the desk , “ I’m sorry “ he panted pulling the condom from your tight cunt .

You sighed and panic filled your body , but you kept calm knowing you had a plan .

“It’s ok I’ll grab a plan b from the store on the way home , thank you sir “ you got down from his desk picking up your panties and his books helping him clean his mess before fixing his tie and letting him clean up his mess on your legs and you made your way home .

You felt disgusting for once , thinking about what happened.

Part 2

[y4z1]

Black, Stained White. | MDNI

Pairing: Bang Chan x reader

Synopsis: You and Bang Chan get into a playful fight when he finds out he isn't your bias, but what unrolls after your fight with Chan is a very not-so-bestfriend like situation.

Warnings: making out, sex, choking-ish, reader is called babygirl (duh, it's chan), fingering, Daddy kink, choking kink, spanking, basically just MDNI

WC: 1.5k

Chan was sitting across you, on the bean bag in the corner of the room, while you were sitting on your bed. His cute dimples and crescent-shaped eyes were staring back at you—cute. You were sharing a hilarious memory of you and Felix's disastrous moment of baking, and how you had accidentally slipped over a banana peel on the floor. His giggles filling the entire room, it was like heaven to your ears. You loved nothing more than hearing Chan happy.

Out of all the people you'd met, you loved Chan the most. You appreciated that he loved you for who you are, unlike others. Throughout your relationship of several years, Chan had always been the one putting a smile on your face. And so, you did the same for him. You really can't recall a single memory where you guys aren't dying of laughter on the floor.

After recollecting yourself and taking a few deep breaths, you finally looked back at him—and bursted out laughing, again. "I'm so sorry, I'm actually so sorry I'll stop"

5 minutes pass and you finally stopped laughing. Chan got up and stretched his arms out, he was wearing a full black outfit. He slipped his beanie off and his orange curly hair poofed out which looked, not to mention, so damn attractive.

He'd dyed his hair plenty of times, but I guess since it's been a while you'd never realized how much you'd craved seeing orange-haired Chan.

His eyes perked up at your and his body facing you. His eyebrows furrowed and head tilted. "Hey, I've never asked you, who's your bias?"

You smiled and blushed at the thought of your bias—or seungmin, specifically. But you couldn't tell him that, what if he tells the other members and then they feel like they're not good enough or just not loved.

"I like all the members", you'd thought you'd gotten away with it but deep down you knew your lies were pretty obvious, and the guilt was plastered on your face.

"Stop lying, I know you have a bias". He was smiling at you again, inching closer by the second. His sexy, deep, Australian accent making your heart beat even faster as if it's not about to already jump out of your body.

You were scared, guilty, and flustered all at the same time. And he could clearly tell. "I won't tell anyone" he said with a warm smile to calm you down a little. And he kept his promises, he really did, he kept all of them in fact.

Without a second thought, you looked at him in the eyes. "It's seungmin...", you fidgeted with your hands. A shocked look on his face, "SEUNGMIN?! I THOUGHT YOU WERE LEE KNOW BIASED", now you were the one with the shocked face. "Lee know?! What makes you think that?!" You replied. He widened his eyes and his signature dimpled smile on his face, "your murderous personality"

You chuckled "wow. Okay but listen, by bias I just mean that seungmin is the one who catches my eye the most. I don't have a real bias because it just changes every 3 days. These days its been you in my mind all day" you covered your mouth and your eyes widened realizing what you'd just said.

He smirked at you, from what you could tell from the corner of your eye. He ruffled your hair, "awwwww that's cute, you love me that much". He was teasing you. In response you smacked his hand away. But, it just made the situation worse, he pushed you onto your back and hovered over you.

It turned into a fight of him trying to get his hands on your body as a way of teasing and you just yanking his hands away, though eventually it stopped when he stared at you with dark, lustful eyes.

His deep brown eyes stared back at you. Everything around you, erased. All you could see was him, and you. His veiny arms were around your head, pinning your body into the mattress.

Your eyes travelled down to his lips. It was as if his lips were pulling you in and you couldn't escape them. They were a soft shade of cherry red, and heart shaped. His bottom lip was tucked under his teeth.

Without even realizing how or when, you were centimeters close. His lips, still bringing you in, until both your lips finally touched and brought each other in for a slow, savory kiss.

He pulled back, getting confirmation that it was okay to go on further. You gave him an approval nod and smile, going in for another kiss. This time a more intimate and longing one.

Eventually, it turned into a full-on make out session. Your hands roaming eachothers body.

You both pulled away from lack of oxygen, and his left hand snaked around your thigh while he brought his lips closer to your inner thigh, gliding his soft lips up and down.

He left one or two hickeys along the process, making sure to mark his territory.

He inched closer and closer, until his face was less than a centimeter away from your heat. In a teasing motion, he lifted his long, slender fingers and traced your folds up and down through your soaked panties.

"so soaked for me, huh babygirl?" He said in a deep, raspy voice, making you even wetter than you already were. He knew the effect he had on you, and he used it to an advantage. He knew every single one of your kinks, every one of your turn-on's.

He eyes were on you the whole time, making sure you were okay with going further.

He teased you over and over again, you were starting to lose patience and he knew that. Nonetheless, you stared at him with doe eyes, knowing that'd drive him crazy.

Your panties to the side in seconds, while he slipped two fingers in, receiving a satisfied moan in return. Three thrusts and he pulled out, smirking at you. You whined and tried other devious tricks on him that you were sure would drive him insane. But damn did he have self control.

There was one trick you hadn't tried though. You'd always known he had a daddy kink, well who didn't—it's literally Chan we're talking about.

You put on a little pout and doe eyes for him, tilting your head. "Please, daddy?" You know that did it for him when he bit his lip and smirked even harder.

An unexpected slap to your ass caught you off guard. You gasped at the stinging pain. "Say it again, babygirl "

"p-please daddy?" A tear making its way down the side of your face.

Though he'd put up a cold persona, he'd made sure to not hurt you in anyway by slowly entering into your heat.

Your walls clenched around him and you wanted more. Patience long forgotten, all you wanted was his massive dick thrusting in and out of you at a godly pace.

And he fulfilled your desires, thrusting in and out of you, right as you adjusted to his length. His left hand wrapped around your neck tightly. You could barely breathe but he knew you so well, he knew it was one of your kinks.

You could feel the similar knot tie itself in your stomach, and within seconds that knot untied itself. You came together at the same time, staining the black sheets white.

He collapsed on top of you, while you ran your hand through his curls. You both laid in bed for a while until you regained your energy to go and shower.

Chan got up first, walking over to the bathtub and turning on the hot water. He made sure the water was the right temperature, and made his way towards you, carrying you bridal style. You giggled to yourself. "What's so funny" he asked with a small smile on his face. "Nothing, don't worry."

He laid you into the bathtub gently. He was walking back towards your bedroom, and damn did bro have a whole bakery back there (bet his back hurts from carrying the whole kpop industry and that humongous a-). Your eyes perked up at him and you asked "you're not getting in?". He stopped and looked back at you, "no, haha you can wash up first"

You got up and took one leg out of the bathtub, reaching for his hand. You pulled him down into the bathtub with you, water splashing everywhere.

He looked at you with wide eyes and an open mouth, "did you just try to drown me?". You giggled and responded, "hey I thought you could swim"

He put on a bland expression, trying to hide that smile that wanted to take over his face "yeah I'm gonna swim in like, half a foot of water"

Whether you were taking a bath, cuddling, or even at work, your bickering never stopped.

A/N: Wrote this at like 2 AM only cuz if I were to continue it later, it would be chilling in my drafts for years.

[little-diable]

Sunshine - Tommy Shelby (smut)

I don't know where this idea came from, but I'm in love with how this turned out, ngl. Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this, your comments keep us writers motivated! Enjoy my loves. xxx

Summary: The reader and Tommy cross paths at war, he's hurt, and she's right there to help him. An inextricable bond begins to form, forcing them to stick together even as the war ends.

Warnings: 18+, smut, unprotected piv, mentions wounds and blood, friends to lovers

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x fem!reader (about 3k words)

header by @deathofpeaceofmind

“You have to hold still, otherwise I won’t be able to clean your wound.” (Y/n) scolded him, bloody hands working on his side, carefully cleaning the bleeding wound. The soldier had his lips pressed into a thin line, eyes staring at the ceiling of the medical tent, trying to stop himself from moving around. 

Even though (y/n) tried her best to concentrate on his wound, she couldn’t help but look at him every now and then. He was awfully handsome, the blue eyes of his made him stand out amongst an endless seeming crowd of soldiers, unable to blend in with pupils that reflected so much and yet told so little, like waves rolling ashore, telling tales of people and places one would never stumble upon. She had seen him around every few days, though (y/n) had never dared to speak up, holding back from stealing any of his precious time, aware of the work he did in the dark. 

“Hold onto my arm.” (Y/n) whispered her words, forcing him to look at her with his eyebrows furrowed. “This will sting, I rather have you holding onto me than you flinching away from the needle.” 

“I’ll behave, promise.” Even though he kept his voice emotionless, the soldier couldn’t stop his lips from taking on a soft smile. For a few seconds they held eye contact, trying to figure out what else they could say, wondering who’d give in first. But before another reply could roll off (y/n)’s tongue, his hand began to move, calloused fingertips stroking her arm. Goosebumps began to cover her skin, rising on her arms like hail falling from the sky, covering the ground. 

“I’ll be quick, promise, soldier.” A soft chuckle left the man who wasn’t known as a gleeful soul amongst his fellow soldiers, and yet it seemed like she was the sunshine following a week full of rain and dark clouds, the one to pull him out of his misery.

……

“Cigarette?” She held it out for him, watching him reach for it, carefully, calculated almost. With his eyes fluttering close he deeply inhaled, allowing her to marvel at him as he freed the blue smoke from his nostrils. “How’s your side?”

“Better than ever, sunshine.” The nickname left her tensing, filled with a biting heat she wasn’t able to swallow. Ever since the day he had stumbled into the medical tent, begging her to take care of his bleeding wound, he had started calling her sunshine, the rays of heat that seemed to brighten his days whenever he crossed paths with (y/n). 

“Don’t lie to me, Tommy, you know I can see right through it.” It was true, he couldn’t tell how and why, but she seemed to be the only one who could see through the cold facade he had built around him, trying to keep to himself. He was plagued by nightmares, struggling to keep on breathing when the nights grew as dark as the underground tunnels he was moving through whenever he had to. And yet everything seemed to fade away whenever she appeared.

“No lies, it’s the truth. Tell me, what will you do once this nightmare is over? Return to your family, your husband, eh?” He took another drag before he stretched his hand out, allowing her to take the cigarette back. (Y/n) pondered over his words for a few seconds, unable to reply as her mouth grew dry and her jaw muscles started tensing. 

“No family, no husband, it’s just me.” Her eyes found her hands, watching her fingers fumble with the dress she had to wear, the dirty white fabric that desperately needed a good wash. Two of his fingers found her chin, tilting her head upwards once again, blue eyes finding hers like a bullet perfectly piercing through its target. 

“If we survive this, I’ll take you home with me, you won’t be alone again, I promise.”

……

It is true what they say, war changes people, those that once entered the fight with brave hearts and proud smiles, ready to fight for their country, returned with broken hearts and chapped lips, no longer ready to put the horror they’ve lived through into words. It hadn’t been any different for Tommy Shelby nor his family members, those that woke with muddy cheeks every single day, and those that waited at home, patiently watching the days turn into weeks. 

But even though the Tommy Shelby who returned back home could no longer wear the same smile he had once mastered perfectly, he hadn’t been able to allow darkness to consume every single fibre of his body, all thanks to her, his sunshine, his (y/n).

Ever since that day in the medical tent, (y/n) had found herself dreaming of his lips, of his hands, of the way he could touch her, mere dreams that never turned real. Tommy treated her like he’d treat his wife, and yet he never crossed that one last, invisible line keeping their friendship from turning into a romantic relationship. He kept his distance, a distance she oh so desperately wanted to minimise, and yet couldn’t. 

“(Y/n)?” Tommy’s voice echoed through his office, glasses perched on the bridge of his nose, piercing eyes focused on the letter he was holding in his hands. His ears listened to the sound of approaching steps, while his eyes didn’t meet hers once, too focused on the words he kept rereading.

“Tell me, what do you think of Winston Churchill?” Only as (y/n) came to a halt next to him, taking the letter from his hands did Tommy dare to look at her. He leaned back, watching her read the lines, carefully as if her and his life depended on it. She was too focused on the letter to notice the glint of his piercing eyes, the way he admired her like he was admiring the most expensive piece of an art gallery, an invaluable treasure.

“Deals with politicians, are you sure of it, Tommy? They don’t speak the same language we do.” A raspy chuckle left Tommy as he lit his cigarette, hand finding her wrist to pull her into his lap. (Y/n) couldn’t stop her gasp from rumbling through her, not used to being touched like this. Their eyes didn’t break contact, clinging to one another as if they were scared that they’d lose one another in an ever growing crowd. 

“The only thing I need from him is to understand the fucking words I’m speaking, should be plenty enough, don’t you think, sunshine?” It had been years since he had first used the nickname, but (y/n) was still not used to it, unable to stop her teeth from leaving marks on her lower lip as she averted her gaze, watching his fingers fumble with the cigarette he was smoking. 

“Promise you’ll shoot first if you get into any trouble, I can’t have you die on me any time soon.” She whispered her words, smiling as he pressed his forehead against her temple. For a few seconds Tommy allowed the two to relish in one another’s company, clinging to the calm silence that wrapped them in a warm embrace. 

“Be careful, one may think you actually enjoy having me around, sunshine.”

……

No sounds filled the night as (y/n) found herself staring at the ceiling of her room, clinging onto the blanket keeping her warm. It had been minutes since Polly had entered the house, guided towards Tommy’s office, finding shelter in the room (y/n) had been in numerous times before. 

For the past minutes she had wondered what Tommy and Polly were speaking about – deals, money, guns? Whatever it was, (y/n) couldn’t help but fear for Tommy’s life, the one that had taken her in, returning home with her clinging to his side. He had taught her everything he could share, every insight into the business he kept building, he shared it all with her, trusting her more than his family members. 

Her naked feet met the ground as she rose from her bed, arms wrapped around herself. She was careful not to make any noises, not wanting to gain Polly's or Tommy’s attention, too curious for her own good. Slowly (y/n) came to a halt in front of the office, holding her breath as she tried to listen to the conversation. 

“Be careful, before you ruin this for yourself, Tommy. You need a woman, a wife, not a shadow like her. I can see it in her eyes, the girl loves you, let her go before you drag her down with you.” Hurt filled (y/n)’s veins, heart clenching in her chest. She had always known that Tommy would eventually have to marry, and yet, deep down she had hoped that one day he’d choose her. 

“I rather live with her by my side, than not have her around at all. I won’t let her go.” A sharp breath was inhaled into (y/n)’s lungs, unable to bite down her smile. God, she’d walk to the end of this very world for Tommy, would dig graves six feet down with her own bare hands if he’d ask her to. He was her end and her beginning, the rising and setting of the ever moving moon. 

“My god, Thomas. If you love her this much, do something about it, for all our sakes.” The sound of shoes meeting the ground forced (y/n) away from the door, hurrying back to her room before they could notice her. Her heart was pounding, shooting heat through her veins, for the first time since crossing paths with Tommy, she had heard him putting the way he felt towards her into words, forcing a new wave of hope through her system. 

(Y/n) gave it a few minutes before she left the room again, making her way back down the hallway, eyes set on the now open door. 

“It's not good for you to stay up this late, one day you’ll work yourself to death.” Her tired voice filled his office, naked feet patting against the ground. With a tired sigh spilling from his lips, Tommy turned towards (y/n), drinking in the sight of her sleeping gown. Her warm hands found his glasses, carefully setting them down on his desk before she placed herself on his thighs, a bold movement that left the man smiling, hand finding the small of her back almost instinctively. (Y/n) found herself urged on by her newfound hope, by the confidence now swimming in her blood. 

“What are you doing awake this late?” Neither of them dared to move, enjoying their touches, the warmth that radiated off one another. Tommy’s thumb stroked the soft fabric of her gown, setting her skin on fire with every movement.

“I couldn’t sleep, I knew I’d find you still awake.” His chuckles left her heart skipping beats, urging her on to do what she had been dreaming of doing ever since she had met him in that tent. (Y/n) gave it a few more seconds, struggling to give herself the final push before she oh so slowly crossed the distance between them, lips ghosting over his. Tommy pulled her even closer, hands holding onto her waist, not daring to let her go as they deepened the kiss. 

His tongue moved along her lower lip, begging for entrance, not ready to break the kiss just yet. (Y/n) wrapped her arms around his neck, trembling on his thighs as an unfamiliar wave of heat flushed through her, shooting right down her spine. Soft moans left the two, wordlessly communicating what they wanted to do, what they wanted to feel, and how they needed to be touched. 

“Tell me, sunshine,” his raspy voice left her gasping, swollen lips aching to feel his again. “How much of the conversation with Polly did you hear?” 

(Y/n) didn’t dare ask him how he knew that she had been eavesdropping, burying her face in the crook of his neck as another laugh left Tommy, big hand moving up and down her spine. 

“Enough to tell you that I love you.” The second he picked up on her whispers, Tommy’s hand stopped moving, letting the words sink in. Silence engulfed the two for a few moments, a silence so loud, (y/n) found herself lifting her head, wondering if his words had another meaning, if he didn't feel the same kind of love. 

“That day in the tent, I was convinced that I’d die. I spoke to a god I no longer look up to, but then you appeared, like a godsent gift. You saved me in more ways than you could think. Ever since that day I knew that I loved you, a love so pure it felt too good to be true, my sunshine, my (y/n).” Once again did (y/n) close the distance between them, kissing him as a fire began to simmer deep inside of her, eyes falling shut. 

Without another warning, Tommy rose to his feet, with (y/n) clinging to him. She was placed down on his desk, allowing him to stand between her thighs, hands disappearing beneath the soft fabric of her gown. (Y/n) found herself trembling against him, allowing Tommy to push the fabric up to her hips, exposing her naked heat. 

“Will you let me? I want to feel you, want to touch you like I should have already touched you all these months ago.” She could only nod, mouth too dry to reply. Carefully he brushed his fingers through her slit, collecting drops of her arousal he used to circle her bundle of nerves, leaving her moaning. (Y/n) had to hold onto his holster, scared that she’d fall back, unable to stop her body from giving into the pull of lust taking over her system. 

Tommy’s piercing eyes kept flickering between her lust drunken features and her heat, hoping that he could etch the sight into his mind. She was beautiful, too pure for him, and yet he couldn’t stop himself from blemishing her, from leaving his claim on the woman he intended to keep around till he’d bid this life goodbye. 

“Tommy,” she choked on his name as he pushed two fingers into her tightness, curling them against her swollen spot as his thumb kept circling her pulsing clit. “I want your cock, please, fuck me. Been dreaming of this for too long.” 

“I will, and I promise I’ll fuck you properly in my bed later, but for now this will have to do.” Her hazy mind couldn't spare his words any attention, but the promise of being touched by him again and again left her panting, eyes threatening to fall close. She watched him undo his trousers, freeing his hardening cock with skilled movements. He pumped himself a few times before he aligned himself with her tightness. 

One of her hands found his, interlacing their fingers before he pushed into her. Both needed a few moments to adjust to the sensation, inhaling heavy breaths. He started with slow thrusts, enjoying the new sensation both had been dreaming of for months, restless days where they couldn’t help but cling to their need for one another. 

“God, Tommy, I love you, don’t ever let me go.” (Y/n)‘s whines urged him on to kiss her, soothing the uneasiness filling her veins. He was right there, couldn’t and wouldn’t let her go, even if he had to.

“I once promised to take care of you, I never break my promises, sunshine.” Tommy began to pick up the speed of his thrusts, letting go of her hand to find his way back to her pulsing bundle, pushing her closer and closer to the edge. Both couldn’t help but thank their lucky stars, fate was finally on their side, allowing them to form a bond that reached deeper than those of soulmates made for one another. They were more, so much more.

“Feels so good, Tommy, so so good.” A newfound sense of pride filled his veins, spurring him on to make her cum right there and then. Her moans guided him on, begging Tommy to never stop fucking her, to leave his marks on her body for curious eyes to see.

She was his, as much as he was hers. The sunlight to his ever growing darkness. The fleeting darkness to her ever growing sunshine. The light to defeat the dark. 

“Such a pretty sight for me, can feel you so close, let go for me.” His raspy voice rang in her ears like a siren going off, warning her of her inevitable fall. A fall that wouldn’t end with a harsh crash, caught by the loving arms she could call her home and shelter from now on.

Tommy watched her come undone, eyes squeezed shut, head rolling back. Her walls clenched his cock, begging him to follow her down the edge with moans rippling through her. Tommy needed a few more thrusts before he could give in, pulling out of her to release himself on her lower stomach.

“Never stop touching me, Tommy.” Her whispers left him chuckling, forehead pressed against hers as his hand found her neck, a possessive grip that left her walls clenching once again.

“I promise, sunshine, I promise.”

[writeoffside]

DOCUMENTS AND DESTINIES, part six

♯ battinson!bruce wayne x fem! reader - 6/?

PART ONE | PART TWO | PART THREE | PART FOUR | PART FIVE | PART SIX

summary: Continuation of Documents and Destinies — Ciphers, early mornings, meetings and new assistant. Bruce's days are turning upside down and everything is going another direction that he had planned. His assistant is here to save the day, though.

warnings: none

info: english isn't my first language, i apologize in advance for all the mistakes (if there are any!)

a/n: yes yes yes i know i'm taking my absolute best time publishing all chapters... i may have or may have not been writing another fanfic for another fandom, which is doing far pretty good! but ofc battinson is here, i love him <3 hope ur gonna like this

Bruce finally descends the steps down. Coming down, where Alfred is sitting at a table nearby. As he goes down, he is still shirtless. Fresh from the shower. He tugs his shirt on as he nears the man.

As he neared Alfred, he noticed the paper he had in front of him. He immediately recognized the picture on top of it. It was the cipher, which he had printed yesterday. Bruce eyed the page, coming from behind Alfred. He noticed that he had already wrote in new letters, filling in the empty gaps with newly discovered symbols and letters he hadn't seen or noticed before.

“Some fresh berries there…” Alfred said without looking up, motioning to the little old-fashioned bowl next to him, full of berries. Blueberries and raspberries peeking out

As he steps closer, Bruce squints as the sun hits his eyes. He looks up at the sun and shakes his head, pulling out a pair of black dark sunglasses onto his face.

"What are you doing?" he mutters, picking up the small bowl of berries. Popping a few into his mouth.

Alfred takes a deep breath, "just reminiscing about my days in the Circus. This is actually quite... elusive."

His finger grip the edges of the paper as he lifts it off the table, in front of him. Staring down at the decripthed parts, which newly added letters.

Bruce furrows his brows as he notices the additional letters, "where did you get those o's?"

Bruce then leans closer to the man and the paper in front of him. Pointing at the paper, where the letters are penciled in with a bright white colour.

Alfred kisses his teeth and leans back, his pen now pointing down at the other page he also has. It was a frozen screen-shot of Bruce's eyelenses, from where he stared down at the letter sent to him. Where the riddle laid and so did the answer. He lies still.

"He lies still is only a partial key. It only gives us H, E, L, I, S and T... So I'm looking for any double symbols to start, trying letters, see where it leads..." Alfred then points his pen at the letters he added onto the other page, in his hands.

"That's interesting," the younger man says, staring down at the page through his black sunglasses.

The sound of a heels clicking pulls both of them from the staring at the cipher.

They both turn towards the sound in an unison. An older woman, Dory, stood at the doorway.

"Mr. Pennyworth," she said.

"Yes, Dory?" he politely answered the woman.

"The accountants are here," she replied again, her voice firm and calm.

“See them in, please, Dory,” he said with a short nod. He started folding the cipher page neatly before tucking it under other papers. Alfred glanced down at the cipher and the frozen image from Bruce’s lenses for a brief moment and then turned back.

Dory nodded politely and her heels echoed again as she walked off, leaving the two men in the enormous towering room in a deep silence once more.

Alfred then stood up, taking the other papers with him. Bruce plopped few more berries into his mouth.

"Also, Bruce... Your assistant is there as well. I called her this morning," Alfred turned to the younger man, whose eyes widened beneath the dark glasses. You both had called together last night, he had asked you if you had made up your mind about the position, and true to Angus' words, you said yes. Alfred then asked you, the most polite way, if you could come to work the next early morning, as some accountants are coming in for a meeting. He very obviously knew Bruce wouldn't have the documents which were much needed for the meeting itself to go smooth. Or even to have the meeting happen.

"Alfred."

Alfred did not say anything back and just walked towards the doorway, where the older woman stood a few moments before. Bruce shakes his head and mutters something under his nose.

Alfred glanced over his shoulder, "also, you could’ve dressed formally.”

Bruce looked down at himself, at how he was dressed. He had a black shirt, loose black pants. Very comfortable to him.

“It’s my house,” he said simply, shaking his head. Moving just behind the older man. Alfred sighed at his words.

They turned through the doorway, into the room, where muted conversation and the quiet rustling of paper was heard through the slightly opened doors, from where the light was peeking through.

Alfred entered first, Bruce just behind him. There were two men, accountants, who were seated. One was an older man with brown, but greying hair, staring at the other man seated next to him. The other one was also an older man, a bald one with what looked like reading glasses perched on top of his nose. He had the urge to snap at the the men, as they sat. It wasn't like he allowed the two men to sit on his chairs. In his home. Then Bruce’s gaze moved past them.

He saw you.

And his breath hitched.

You stood with perfect posture. Standing next to the older woman, Dory. Speaking with her with a soft smile. Sleek black tights were tight around your legs, a very short skirt and a brown sweater-jacket that clung softly to your shape. Your heels were sharp and dark. You looked different from before.

Bruce didn't even give a spare glance to the men who were sitting and moved from behind Alfred. Straight towards you. The two men noticed Bruce and abruptly stood up. Both of them quickly straightening their suits. Ready to shake the man's hand. But he moved straight towards you, as if he had tunnel vision pointed straight at you.

"Mr. Wayne—"

Both of the men started to greet him. Scrambling to their feet from the chairs they were so comfortably sitting on at. Bruce then walked right past them, his glasses-hidden eyes pointed on you, as you were speaking with Dory. Then you turned just as he neared closer.

You tilted your head, a small greeting smile on your lips, "good morning, Mr. Wayne.”

He stopped right in front of you, his sunglasses reflected your image. His jaw worked once, and then again. Like he was about to say something, and then changed his mind.

"Morning."

His voice rumbled deep from his chest. Dory chuckled and turned away, leaving you and Bruce alone. The two accountants hovered behind Bruce, standing by the table, still with their hands outstretched. Confusion and awkwardness painting itself onto their faces. Both of them waiting for acknowledgment, now glancing at each other in confused silence.

Alfred came closer to the accountants. Outstretching his own hand to them, introducing himself to the two confused older men.

"First day duties?" Bruce asked you, voice low.

You smiled up at the man, "of course. Thank you so much for—"

"Don't thank me. You deserve it," Bruce cut you off.

Then you did something. You reached out and touched his arm. Just a gentle, guiding hand on just upper his elbow, your fingertips brushing the fabric of his shirt.

Your touch sent a spark through the skin beneath his clothes. His mind went completely empty, blank. Muscles tight beneath his shirt, he was all but frozen, caught off guard. It felt as if a wildfire started in deep of his chest.

With the same confidence as before, you turned gently, your fingers on his upper elbow, guiding him towards the two accountants. Then your fingers slipped away and he felt as if the entire world disappeared. He followed you without a word and with no doubt in his mind.

As you and Bruce reached the table, the two accountants quickly straightened again, clearing their throats awkwardly. Both of them reaching their hands forward towards the man in black.

“Mr. Wayne, it’s an absolute honor. We’ve recieved your response to the files that we've sent over and—” the bald man started enthusiastically speaking. His hand then clasped around Bruce's and in a firm grip, he shook it so quickly. His arm still felt tingly, from where you've touched him.

The bald man let go of Bruce's hand and then the other man reached for it. Shaking it with the same enthusiasm as the other one did, his finger digging into his hand. The man was treating him like he had met a king, a some kind of hero. Bruce felt an urge to roll his eyes at him. The man then launched himself into talking about a summary of the files, which, Bruce did not even read. Nor did he even see them. So, he just nodded along. Alfred was the one, who sent the response back. Who replied to them and who had hosted this meeting under Bruce's name. The bald man spoke about a sort of a long-term project, which Alfred quickly took a lead in and spoke instead of Bruce. Thankfully.

You all sat at the table, The two accountants on the right side of the table, while Alfred sat right opposite them. Bruce sat beside him and you were sat about two seats down from Bruce, keeping your distance, but listening every word.

Bruce was sat in the chair very comfortably, leaned back slightly, one arm rested along the edge of the table, the other on his knee. His sunglasses remained on, staring at the two men in front of him. But his attention was just partially on their speaking, his eyes glided few times towards you beneath the dark glasses.

"—some of it is routed through different layers and companies. Many were sent in under names we’ve never seen before. This has been going on for years," the bald man slid a file over to Alfred. Bruce wasn't listening, the words just flew over his head.

The accountants resumed their report again. They were growing more confident now that the focus had shifted to the two of them.

"—we have gone through the newer updates, which were recently added. There are few gaps in them, which indicates that they weren't—" the brown-greying man chimed into the conversation.

But even as the room moved on, Bruce’s thoughts didn’t. He could still feel where your fingers had touched his arm. Just a slight short touch.

The accountants had asked few more questions. Alfred had offered them answers and slid them over pages, documents and other informations printed on the white sheets.

"We’ll finalize the report and send a full breakdown by the end of the week,” the bald man said.

“And just... Just use a secure line,” Bruce said, already rising from his seat, which made both of the accountants quickly stand up as well.

“Yes, of course,” the bald nodded many times and quickly, "thank you for your time, Mr. Wayne.”

The men gathered their things and once again reached Bruce to shake his hand. He uninterestingly shook their hands, then they shook hands with Alfred. Both of the men did not even flicker their gaze over to you, not even interested in shaking a hand with you. Then both of the men exited the room, offering polite nods to Dory, who opened the door for them.

"You handled them well, Alfred," muttured Bruce as he watched the doors click close behind the two men.

“Well, you do not like meetings.”

Bruce's expression barely moved, but something flickered on his face. He sighed loudly, "I don’t like wasting time,” he said.

"Well, Mr. Wayne,” you said, tone even, teasing but not unprofessional, "so, what do you say? Am I a good assistant?"

Before Bruce could open his mouth and answer, a voice from behind him spoke, cutting him off.

"You were brilliant," Alfred spoke with the softest voice, "if you didn't get the files for me. I'd be lost there."

Bruce’s gaze flickered to Alfred, then back to you. A beat of silence passed before he spoke, "you did all of them?”

You nodded once, "yes. Last night. I pulled the latest archives we had. Half of their documents were out of date, actually. As well misfiled.”

"You are brilliant," Alfred repeated once again. A big smile adoring his older features.

Bruce stopped. He narrowed his eyes at you and then at Alfred, and then he spoke what nobody expected, "what if she worked out the cipher?”

There was a beat of silence. Then Alfred choked. Actually choked. Nearly falling over.

He coughed into his sleeve, eyebrows shooting upward as he turned to fully face Bruce, "What? What are you talking about? The cipher? The one—"

"Yes, Alfred."

“I said she was brilliant, yes, and she is,” Alfred shook his head, "but that doesn’t mean you hand her the murderer's bloody cipher like it’s a Crossword from the Gazette!”

You looked between the two men, eyes wide and confusion all over your face, "what are we talking about?”

"—she wouldn't say a thing," Bruce chirped in, his voice steady.

"How are you so sure?" Alfred narrowed his eyes and raised his voice a bit.

Your brows furrowed, still confused, "I really don’t know what’s going on..."

Alfred muttered under his breath, still baffled, “Bruce. Stop this nonsense…”

Bruce turned fully now, sunglasses catching the ceiling light. He raised his hand and his finger pointed straight you, "you are going to follow me. Now.”

You glanced at Alfred, whose lips were parted as if he still wanted to protest or say something against this whole situation. Then you looked back at Bruce, whose expression was unreadable underneath the glasses.

"Alright..." you muttured, your heels clicking as you moved towards Bruce, who was stalking through the opened doors.

You and Bruce walked to the room, where both the men were before. Where the printed papers laid on the table. Alfred was just behind you, as well stalking to the room, where the papers were.

Bruce took out the papers and put them in front of you. One where the cioher was and one where the answer to the riddle was. It was bright red, and there was scrawny writing on the paper.

“I trust you.” He finally looked at you, "and I need your eyes. You are clever."

You heard Alfred mutter something under his nose, but you stepped closer to the table, where the papers were laid out. You reached for it, your fingers brushing against the edge of the paper. Your eyes squinting down at the cipher.

"We have H, E, L, S and T. And this is the cipher," he pointed at the paper with his finger.

"Remove all other symbols,” you said certainly, your finger tracking the many symbols on the paper in front fo you.

Alfred made a small scoffing sound behind you, "what?”

You didn’t even look back at the man who spoke, "yeah. Just remove them. The ones we already have, H, E, L, S, T, they’re forming a word. The rest are just a noise around it. The message is in a plain sight.”

Alfred took a step forward, “but if we remove the rest—”

“We’ll see it,” you cut in, not letting the man speak his words, because you knew you were in fact right, "the answer is already here. He just wants you to be distracted by the rest of it, you know?"

Bruce's gaze was sharp on the paper in front of him.

"Wait here,” he said suddenly and then he turned on his heels and strode out of the room, leaving you with confused Alfred.

Alfred gave you one last, wide-eyed look and followed, hurrying after him with short, but pretty quick steps, leaning against his cane.

You stood in the middle of the room beside the table, where the cipher half-written with random letters laid. The known symbols spelling something that you couldn't figure out amongst all the other symbols. You looked down again. Furrowing your brows as you looked over it again.

You didn’t sit. You felt odd in this room, you didn't feel like sitting. You just waited, standing there, you looked around as well. There was an electric guitar on the floor near a huge speaker, that amused you. A bowl of berries was there as well. And a huge chandelier hanging above. The dining room itself was huge, the ceiling high above you. The decoration was aesthetically appealing to the whole tower.

Then, after you don't even know how long; you heard both of them walking back. Their footsteps echoing louder and louder until they reappeared in the doorway behind you.

And before you could even say a word to them, Alfred came straight to you. Or at you.

He grabbed you, his arms wrapping tightly around your shoulders, lifting you a little off balance, his voice breathless as he suddenly loudly exclaimed.

“You are... Bloody hell, you are fucking brilliant!” his arms wrapped around you so tightly.

You froze for second. Absolutely stunned. Alfred Pennyworth, the man who was so polite and professional, when you first met him when you had your meeting, was now hugging you and as well unprofessionally cussing.

Your arms came slowly up. You hugged him back awkwardly, patting his back. An awkward, a bit confused smile on your face. Unsure what to do in the moment.

"Um... Thank you?" you didn't sound so sure what to say.

"Alfred," Bruce's deep voice came from behind the two of you. Low and amused sounding.

Alfred finally let go of you, glancing back at Bruce. Alfred awkwardly coughed into his arm and turned away from you, pink colour rising to his ears quickly. There was a faint grin tugging at the edge of Bruce’s lips. He was amused of this whole situation. Then what took you by a surprise was the chuckle he let out.

Bruce Wayne actually chuckled.

"What does it say?" you asked the two men. They exchanged a glance, unsure if to tell you.

"Drive," Bruce muttured.

"Oh..." you trailed off, confused on what it means, "also what is... this? Why did you need to solve this cipher?"

Bruce stopped. His heart nearly skipped a bit. Alfred next to him casted him a glance. His eyes widened a bit more than before. Bruce turned his head to the direction of Alfred, facing him, his jaw shifting slightly. He then swallowed and turned his head towards you.

“A killer left this,” he finally said, those words made you drop your mouth, "at a crime scene yesterday.”

You blinked, realized what he meant, "at the mayor's place?”

He nodded once, his eyes not moving from you. You shook your head, mouth dropped slightly. Taking it all in. But something hung in your mind and you just had to ask the man.

"Why do you have that, though?"

At those words, nearly everything stilled. Quieten down. Everything froze, everyone froze.

Alfred turned slowly towards the younger man with his eyes wide. He didn’t speak, didn't utter a word. He stared at the younger man, as if he waited for an answer as well. Bruce didn’t flinch at your question. He didn't look away, didn't advert his gaze. His face was unreadable underneath the pair of glasses. But his silence was loud. You furrowed your brows at the two men, confusion rising even higher now. The older man then sighed, realizing that if he didn't intervene, the younger man wouldn't do as well. The younger man knew he wouldn't get the words out himself.

“She should know,” Alfred said under his breath, his eyes digging into the younger man's profile, "she already saw this," he pointed to the papers on the table.

"But—"

"And she is your assistant after all, Bruce," Alfred added, his eyes keeping themselves on the younger man. A small shift in his jaw as he stared ahead at you through the dark shades. Then, his mouth parted just slightly and then closed, as if he was calculating what he wanted to say. Preparing the right sentence, the right words. Then, his mouth opened and the words left it.

"The card, which the riddle was in, was addressed to me," Bruce finally spoke.

"To you?" you asked, tilting your head slightly.

"Yes. On the card was written who it was for," he replied again, his voice low.

"But... But in the news, they said that it was addressed to the Batman..." you trailed off at the last words, your mind working.

Then as if it clicked in the right place, your eyes widened. You didn't speak, you didn't ask anything else after that. Your eyes flickered from Alfred and then to Bruce. You were nearly at loss of words. You couldn't believe this absolute nonsense that he was telling you. He was not being serious. You didn't know if you should listen and believe or just defeat the sound of his voice and believe that it's all just made up. It didn't feel right. It didn't feel possible. It sounded like a dream, a more of a nightmare.

"Mr. Wayne—" you started but you were cut off by his voice.

"Bruce," he cut you off.

"Bruce. What— Whatare you trying to tell me?" you corrected the name and tried to ask the man with an awkward laugh. You feel like you knew what he was trying to tell you, but you just had to ask. To get the actual words from his mouth. To hear what you were curdently wrapping your mind and thoughts around.

"You do know what I'm trying to tell you," Bruce reached up and slid his dark glasses off, his eyes finally meeting yours. He folded them and gripped them in his hand.

"You're..." you trailed off again, his eyes boring into yours, now glasses-free ones.

"The Batman."

Your breath got caught in your throat. You stood still, staring at the dark-haired man in black in front of you with no expression in your face. You did not know what to show, what to say. You were lost in your own thoughts. You felt overwhelmed. The emotions were flooding in your chest, you felt like you just gained a new emotion. Yo tried to organize it all in your head, but nothing could move into the right position.

"You're joking," you let out a dry laugh, shaking your head. You step backwards and look around the room and then back at the man in front of you.

He simply stares back at you. His expression doesn't change.

"You're being serious..." you say after a few moments. The silence pressed tighter around you. Alfred was shaking his head, staring at the younger dark-haired man in black.

You think of what to say next. You have questions flooding your mind like a storm from every corner of your mind. You have hundreds of them. But one specific one escapes your lips.

"So... Are you killing me next because I know?" you said it too quickly, nearly stumbling over your own words.

“What—”

“No! Why would we—”

Both of the men spoke at once. Alfred’s voice sounded out with urgency. As if he was the scared one. Bruce’s voice sounded nearly as confused and nearly disgusted with the idea. They both looked confused. The confusion literally writing itself onto their faces. Both of their expressions in alarms.

"Don't be ridiculous—" Bruce breathed out, but Alfred cut him off.

"Absolutely not. That's not how this works. I am alive, am I not?" Alfred said, his voice a bit raised. As if he wanted you to believe him, to let you trust him on this.

"Okay," there was a beat of a silence.

"It's... Um? A lot of to take in. I really have no idea what to say," you finally admitted, you had questions. Many of them, but you didn't know if you wanted to hear the actual answers.

"I know," Bruce said, slightly nodding his head.

"What do I do now? Now that I know you're... Him?" you did not want to say the name out loud, it didn't felt right at this moment.

"You can help us. You're brilliant, as I've said," Alfred smiled at you, his fingers tapping against the wood on his cane.

"Okay," you replied after a few seconds.

"Okay?" Bruce rasped out.

"Yes. I'll help," you replied and nodded, staring at the dark-haired man. The older man, Alfred, smiled at you, his smile lines visible on his older face near his cheeks.

"I'll have to speak with Gordon. I've got an idea where this leads us next," Bruce spoke and glanced over his shoulder at a clock on the wall behind him. It was definitely a bit older one, dust collecting on top of it.

Then he turns back, staring at Alfred who is about to speak, "I have to speak with Dory about a thing or two that the accountants have mentioned. I'll leave you two."

Then he bid you a goodnight and a smile and waddles to the doorway and disappeared through them. The sounds of his footsteps disappearing as well, going deeper into the never ending house's hallways.

Then a two words broke the silence when the footsteps are no longer heard.

"Go home," the younger dark-haired man said quietly.

"What?" you blinked, raising your eyebrow upwards

"Go home," he repeated.

"I'm going to to Gordon in a few. We'll have a look on something. I have an idea what the cipher mean," his words ringed out in the room. His gaze lingering on your face.

"Alright, but if you—"

"Please," he whispered gently, softly. A small plea.

"Okay."

His gaze dropped for a fraction of a second, then returned to yours. He stepped forward, "stay safe… please.”

Those words slipped through you, down deep into your heart. Stitching themselves with a red string. Your eyes softened and you gave him a small smile.

"Goodbye, Bruce."

You gave him a short nod and walked just around him. The smell of your perfume hitting his nose as your figure just passed by his side. Your heels clicking against the floors, sound echoing through the whole room. He stayed frozen, staring ahead. He watched your shadow disappear with you through the doorway, leaving the same way Alfred did.

He knew where this could lead him, he is falling. Not into a dark hole. Not a cold one. It was is different. It is colourful. It is something soft, warm. Something he had not felt before. The scent of your perfume lingered under his nose, the sound of your voice lingered in his ears, the image of you lingered in his mind. He was slowly driving himself insane. He had a mirder to solve, to find who had so disgustingly and maniacally killed the mayor and he could not turn his mind away from a person he knew for such a small amount of time.

He wasn't really ready to hit the end of the hole he was falling into. He did not know how it would feel, what it would bring. It wasn't a crime fighting, it wasn't solving murders, it wasn't brooding in the dark night dressed as a known crime fighter of Gotham. It was something new to him. Unknown.

He wasn't ready to hit the bottom and become something, or someone, so different than he is now.

The thought terrified him.

thank you sooo much for reading! comments and feedback are always appreciated!

give it some love if u liked it thank u <3

[softmangoes]

one wish | joseph x reader

18+ only | for @lichilly (thank you for being so sweet!)

author's note: if you liked this, please check out my ongoing pre-canon SDJ fic!

_

there was a knock at the door.

"it's open," joseph called as he looked at himself in the mirror, making sure to rub off a stray patch of paint the makeup team managed to miss.

after a moment, you slipped in, closing the door behind you with a click. you had one hand behind your back - a sure sign that you had some kind of surprise in mind.

"don't tell me it's another script revision," he groaned. it had taken him hours to memorize the newest song for the next episode and his fingers were sore from all the strumming. "i don't think i can handle any more."

but you simply smiled in that easy way that always made him want to turn away. it was just so gentle, that smile. it was softer than anything he had ever deserved.

"you didn't tell me it was your birthday today," you said. "i had to find out through dan."

goddamn daniel. his castmate was a good guy, but he had a big mouth.

"i'm not into parties." they were too loud. crowded. he had never been one to want to be the center of attention.

"i didn't say there had to be a party," you replied, taking your hand from behind your back to reveal what you had been hiding.

in your palm was a large cupcake topped with a fluffy white frosting and a smattering of sprinkles. a red candle had been stuck in the middle of it.

you pulled out a lighter and with a few quick flicks of your thumb, lit the short wick.

"it can be just us," you said, eyes glowing as the flame flickered in your palm.

joseph had never had anyone celebrate him for any reason at all, let alone the day he came into existence, but he was aware of what he had to do. "you want me to make a wish?"

"anything you want," you beamed.

"anything i want," he repeated, inhaling to loosen the tightness in his chest.

in truth, there was only one wish he had. it was a wish he would tell himself as he lied awake at night staring at the ceiling of his motel room, it was a wish he'd hum as he learned each new song, it was a wish that he only ever confessed he had in the quiet of his solitude.

and here you were, now. with him. as if all those days and nights had built up to this very moment.

joseph took in a breath. you were so beautiful. ever since he had met you, he never had the courage to tell you that.

tentatively, he placed his hands over yours, craned his neck lower so that his mouth was near the bright flame, and blew.

"what was the wish?" you asked as the smoke curled into the air. after a moment, you set the cupcake onto his desk.

he hesitated. "it's bad luck if i tell you, isn't it?"

"not if it's a secret," you said, a smile curling at the corner of your mouth. "but i really would like to know."

joseph swallowed. what could he say to that?

"do you really want to know?" he asked, his heart threatening to burst out of his chest.

"tell me."

he paused. "close your eyes, then."

you obeyed, clasping your hands behind your back.

thoughts raced through his head, a buzz of static that threatened to overwhelm him. he could stop this. he could turn you away. he could deny himself this moment, as he did with all of the others.

he inhaled, cool air filling his lungs, before he took your face in his hands and kissed you.

it was a soft kiss. a gentle kiss. a kiss that asked if all of this was okay, if he could want you like this.

and it was okay, because you brought your own hands to his face, ran your fingers through his hair as you pulled him towards you.

your lips were so warm, so soft. if he could, he would wish for this moment to never end.

"there," he said, face burning as he pulled away. "i told you."

when you smiled this time, it was full of so much affection that it made his heart swell.

"tell me more," you said, pressing a kiss along his jaw and curling a finger at his collar. "please? it's your birthday, after all."

[the-most-humble-blog]

<!-- BEGIN TRANSMISSION --> <div style="white-space:pre-wrap"> <meta friendship-type="unshippable brotherhood"> <script>ARCHIVE_TAG="NO_SHIP_BROTHERS_001_DECLASSIFIED"</script>

🛡️ NO, THAT’S MY BROTHER-IN-ARMS.

We’re not gonna fuck. We’re not gonna kiss. We’re not gonna be shipped.

You can put down your AO3 login. Close the tab. This isn’t that kind of story.

This is a different kind of love. The kind that can’t be pornified — because it’s been through fire.

We’re brothers. In the truest, ugliest, most beautiful sense of the word.

Not born under the same roof. But forged under the same hell. The kind of bond you don’t choose. The kind that chooses you in the moment right before one of you dies.

There was a time you could write two male characters who would kill for each other and never once want to kiss.

They didn’t hug unless someone was bleeding. They didn’t say “I love you.” They just stood in front of the bullet.

Because that was love.

And somewhere along the line, people stopped understanding that.

Now?

Two men make eye contact in a tense scene, and half the internet drops into the replies like they’re at a sleepover with a bottle of Boone’s Farm and a Ouija board.

> “Just kiss already 😩” > “The tension is SO gay.” > “They’re totally boyfriends.”

No. They’re not.

They’re soldiers. Brothers. War-bound witnesses to each other’s survival.

That “tension” you’re so eager to sexualize? That’s the look you give someone who saved your life before you even knew what it was worth.

You think it’s cute. You think it’s playful.

But you’re erasing something sacred because you can’t process affection without inserting your own kink.

This isn’t repression. It’s reverence.

This isn’t homophobia. It’s honor.

I’ve had a brother like that. A man who pulled me off the floor when I couldn’t stand. Who didn’t say, “I love you” but stared down my demons and said, > “You’re not going out like this. Not on my watch.”

That’s not romance. That’s war-born loyalty. That’s what real men do when they’d rather die beside you than bury you.

He saw me at my lowest and didn’t flinch. He covered for me. Took hits for me. Lied for me. Told the truth for me when I was too far gone to hear it.

We’ve fought side by side, bled side by side, laughed like murderers and wept like saints.

I’d kill for him. I’d die for him. But fuck him? Never.

Because there are some things too deep for sex. Too violent. Too sacred. Too full of unspoken vows to be reduced to erotic fanservice.

You don’t see it anymore. Because media is scared.

Scared of showing men with devotion that doesn’t involve penetration. Scared of showing male vulnerability without a wink and a nod that says,

> “Don’t worry, they’re gay. That’s why it’s okay.”

No. It’s okay because it’s real.

Because two men can be each other’s salvation without being each other’s fantasy.

And yeah — some of y’all can’t stand that.

You see emotional connection and can’t help but project. You see two men being raw and call it “gay tension” because you don’t have the framework to recognize fraternal love without sex.

That’s your problem. Not ours.

We don’t owe you soft kisses and sunset confessionals. We owe each other blood and bone and backup.

He’s the one who stood up when everyone else sat down.

He’s the one who kept my name in his mouth when the world tried to forget me.

He’s the one who watched me break and didn’t leave. Didn’t judge. Didn’t run.

He passed the test without knowing there was one.

And you think that’s romance?

No. That’s not romance. That’s something you don’t get unless you’ve stood beside another man while the world burned and the only thing keeping you alive was his voice in your ear saying:

> “Stay with me. You’re not done yet.”

I’ve had that. And I will protect it from your fanfiction filters until the last breath leaves my body.

We’re not “soft.” We’re steel. We don’t hug. We cover each other’s exits. We don’t confess. We show up.

Every fucking time. No matter the hour. No matter the wreckage.

He’s my brother. Not my boyfriend.

He’s the one I’d walk into fire for, not the one I’d write love poems to.

And that’s what makes it so goddamn beautiful.

We’ve been in rooms where silence spoke louder than therapy. Where a single nod was more powerful than a love letter.

We’ve been in situations where emotions were bullets and we took them for each other without blinking.

He’s not repressed. He’s resolved.

We don’t fuck. We trust. And trust, in this world, is rarer than intimacy.

So no — you can keep your ships. You can keep your memes. You can keep your horny little edits and gay-coded clip montages set to sad indie songs.

We don’t need them. We’ve got history. We’ve got scars. We’ve got oaths written in blood and grit and memory.

He’s the kind of man who’d die for me without hesitation and laugh while doing it. And I’d return the favor without ever asking why.

That’s not tension. That’s loyalty. That’s a bond older than hashtags and deeper than your slashfic folder.

So stop asking if we’ll kiss. Stop asking if we’re secretly in love. We are. Just not the way you want.

> Because some men aren’t lovers. > They’re shields.

And if you’ve never had a brother like that— someone who’d carry your casket or kill the one who tried to build it— then I understand why you don’t get it.

But maybe one day you’ll have a man like that beside you. And when you do— you’ll stop trying to ship us.

And start building altars to him instead.

📜 Reblog if you believe in unshippable loyalty, unwritten vows, and brothers who bleed instead of break.

</div> <!-- END TRANSMISSION [AUTO-WIPE IN: 00:06:66] -->

[notsosubtlequeer]

Happy holidays! @cowboy-bec I hope you like it <3

This was such a fun prompt to work with so thank you so much for letting me write for you. I got a bit sappy with it.

This was made for @phandomgiftexchange their event!

Here's the A03 link. Under the cut is the full fic as well. Merry Christmas <3

Something Precious

(1639 words)

“Hey, skink, look at this.”

They're curled up on the cream sofa in their living room, the thing large and intentionally selected for their long limbs to fit comfortably on.

They're sat pressed against each other in the very corner in spite of all of this. Dan is practically in Phil's lap as they both look at their phones.

Dan is watching a documentary on a species of seabirds, the commentator's voice drifting through their living room.

Phil as he tends to be, is scrolling his socials and trying to catch up on what their fanbase has been saying.

Now, he's shoving his phone into Dan's face, almost knocking it into his nose with the force of it all.

Dan, eyes squinting at the offending light-mode twitter layout, sees a piece of fan art.

He almost brushes it off as another sister Daniel piece when he looks again.

It's Phil. Dressed up in a nun costume not unlike the one he had in a bag in the back of his closet. The thigh high stockings and garter belts sketched onto art-Phil are different though. And so is the choker around his neck.

It looks nice. It's a good piece of art and nothing they haven't seen before.

“That's a cool drawing bub,” he mutters, already slumping back down to get back into his previous position of Phil's chin jabbing his temple as he lies against his chest.

He is stopped by Phil pushing the phone into his face gently.

The tip of his nose touches the screen and the image zooms in on the exposed thigh of art-Phil.

“It… would look good on you?” he tries.

Things like this are a little bit of a guessing game with Phil sometimes. Not that he minds. Far from it even.

“You think so?” comes the soft reply, and Dan knows he's cracked the code.

-

Despite Dan’s insistence on them being the exact same size, they know Phil won't fit comfortably into the Sister Daniel costume.

So, Dan goes on a hunt.

Many online shops that only ship to America and dodgy websites full of things he's decidedly NOT looking for later, he ends up with a decent selection.

He shows Phil when they're sitting on the couch a few days later, pasta with white sauce on deep plates carefully balanced on their laps. On a side table next to him, Dan has got a glass of red wine, while Phil has a glass of ribena he pinky promised Dan he wouldn't spill.

“What do you think of this one bub?”

Phil's fork pauses halfway to his mouth and he makes wide eyes at the costume Dan is showing him.

The woman who's wearing it looks into the camera with a sultry expression and Phil feels the need to avoid her eyes.

“I have some accessories too. Like in the drawing. Only if you want of course.”

There's silence then as he patiently waits for Phil to get his thoughts together. He knows how confusing and scary the whole gender expression ordeal is, and he knows that whatever Phil wants to accomplish with this new little adventure of his, Dan wants to make sure they get it right.

“I think that one would look nice yeah,” comes the soft reply from Phil, barely above a whisper as he studies the costume.

“I like the layers on the skirt.”

“You'd look so pretty, bub.”

“Hmmm. You think so?”

They chat quietly for a while as Dan shows Phil the accessories, and the latter agrees with every single piece he’s presented with, his skin tinged a light pink when it comes to picking a collar from Dan’s preferred selection.

After the conversation, they continue with their evening, sitting so close their thighs press against each other lightly and Phil's arm jostles when Dan moves, almost spilling the Ribena.

They talk about it again right before Dan places the orders. But for now it still feels light. Like another thing they're trying just because they can. Just because when it's just them, none of it feels heavy or strange, because how could it?

-

It's two weeks later and Dan has been kicked out of their bedroom.

He waits patiently. Busying himself with putting away the dishes and wiping the counter and table free of the few crumbs gathered there since morning.

He's about to get the bag of coffee beans out to refill their machine when Phil calls out to him.

“Can you come in here?”

He sounds small. And when Dan walks up the stairs and into their bedroom he looks it, too.

The expression on his partner's face iwas something timid and frightened, vulnerable and raw.

He's stood in just his pants, arms wrapped around his naked waist and eyes searching for Dan's.

Dan wanted to gather him up in his arms and protect him. Pepper his face with kisses until his eyes lose the fear that's swirling around in them.

“Hey bub,” he says instead. He walks over to where Phil is standing next to the bed. All the items that had arrived today are laid out neatly on the sheets.

“What's happening?”

“It's stupid but. I'm scared? Clothes aren't scary but…”

“Not stupid,” Dan replies automatically, and reaches past Phil to pick up the nun costume of the bed.

It's slightly more frilly than Dan's and has a few layers to the skirt. There's a hole in the shape of a heart right on the chest of the dress and Dan can already imagine running his hands over the milky white skin that would be peeking out of it.

“Let me help you?”

He gets a nod in return from Phil and then he's kneeling, the costume held in such a way that Phil can step into it easily.

His hands brush Phil's legs gently as he moves the garment up his body, quietly instructing him to hold it in place while he gets up and moves around so he can do up the zipper on Phil's back.

The moment is quiet and there's warmth roaring through Dan's chest like an inferno. Urging him on to touch, to kiss, to keep safe.

So he does.

He noses into Phil's hair as he does up the zipper of the costume. Presses a warm kiss on the junction of his shoulder and neck as he fastens the clip to keep the zipper in place.

Sneaks his arms around Phil’s waist as soon as he's done just holding him close.

“Dan,” Phil hums, voice dripping with fondness and sweet like honey.

“You look so pretty, love.”

Phil's face, neck and ears are flushed a lovely pink when Dan moves away to grab the other items still laid out on the bed.

The gloves are next, he helps Phil slip them on, fingers trailing over soft skin and barely-there freckles as he adjusts the elastic fabric. It digs slightly into the skin of Phil's forearms and Dan zeros in on it for such a long time that Phil slaps his arm playfully and tells him to get on with it.

Phil puts on the stockings himself, tracing the black cross embroidered onto the material before reaching for the next item.

Once everything is done, he looks up at Dan, who had been hovering by the closet rummaging through the barely used makeup supplies he had laying around.

“I was thinking some eyeshadow might be nice,” Phil says. And there's still the nervous edge to his voice but there's something else now too. Something fond and familiar. And Dan feels the inferno in his chest roaring to new heights.

“Okay,” he says simply, and he takes out a makeup palette.

Hovering over Phil like this, his face so open and trusting as Dan gently puts a bit of black eyeshadow on his lids, makes the inferno in his chest blaze to never before seen heights.

It's the trust of it all, he thinks.

It's how Phil from 5 years ago would have shrunk away at the very thought of putting on a dress as a joke, let alone as something more.

And it is.

There's something else underneath all of this that isn't just nerves for a jokey Instagram post.

The something that makes Phil's fingers shake when he tugs at the hem of the skirt.

The something that made his laugh bubble out of him, bright and unfiltered, as he looks at the slightly messy smokey eye Dan had given him.

The something that now, as the costume is fully complete, makes him wrap his arms around Dan's neck and lean into him.

Dan's own arms circle Phil's waist as if it's second nature and they sway gently. Standing pressed close together in the silence of their bedroom.

“We made it. Didn't we?”

It's a nonsense phrase that should have Dan confused.

But then he thinks about the time Phil tried makeup and he'd come into their lounge crying because he couldn't make it look right.

Then he thinks about a 19 year old boy in Manchester looking at the women's section in a clothing store and feeling a pang of jealousy at the amount of options they had.

Then he thinks about messily painted nails and makeup palettes long abandoned because he was too scared to use them. About the skirts that got sent their way for a ‘viewers pick my outfit’ video.

About how, when he'd first put on the sister Daniel costume, he'd felt like a part of his brain that was constantly screaming had suddenly gone quiet.

He'd felt sexy for the first time in a long long time and had felt open enough to share it with the world.

And then he thinks about Phil, and the paths they walked together, and he gets it.

“Yeah. We made it bub.”

[shslbunnylover]

★★★𝙇𝙤𝙪𝙙𝙚𝙧 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙣 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙤𝙛𝙛𝙞𝙘𝙚 𝙫𝙚𝙣𝙩𝙨 (𝙆𝙞𝙣𝙠𝙩𝙤𝙗𝙚𝙧 𝙙𝙖𝙮 2: 𝙊𝙛𝙛𝙞𝙘𝙚 𝙨𝙚𝙭)★★★

Character: Larissa Weems

Tag list: @inlovewithgreta

Trigger warnings (DL, DNI): Semi-public sex, smut, orgasm denial, boss x employee dynamics, legal age gap

Genre: Smut

Word count: 2.1k

...

...

"So, Y/n, do you want to finally speak up and explain what was going on with you during the meeting today? Hm?" Larissa asked seductively as she rubbed her long red nails up and down her thigh, walking around her office as her voice perfectly harmonized with the sounds of her heels hitting the wooden floor.

Her voice was a pure melody in your ear, as tempting as the snake was to Eve. Unresistable, almost as if she had magic from the devil himself. If she said sit you would do so without hesitation. If she asked you to do the most lewd or the most wholesome things, you'd do it. Because she had you wrapped around her finger like a dog to leash.

You only responded with silence, lowering your head as you tried your hardest to not look at the beautiful woman that had already turned you into a blushing mess.

"Speak up sweetheart...I need to hear that pretty voice telling me what's going on with you?" The older woman said again, a stern tone slowly filling her voice as she bent over her desk, giving you a full shot of her perfect cleavage.

"M-Miss Weems...I-I apologize for my quiet behavior, I must have just been more fatigued than usual," You replied formally, swallowing your fear and crush on the older woman and looking up at her in the eyes.

The white-haired woman sat back down on her black leather office chair, crossing her legs as she raised a curious eyebrow. You knew such miniscule actions shouldn't result in your libido being driven off the roof like never before...but that's just what this woman did to you. A magnet pulling you towards her beautiful body this woman was, and you had no idea how to block the attraction.

"Ah...I see, and it...didn't have anything to do with me or any of your coworkers?" She asked, concerning taking place of the former stern tone that was once evident in her vocals.

"No ma'am..." You lied,

The meeting was normal, and there wasn't supposed to be anything special going on. The problem was when Larissa came in wearing a beautiful dress with a V-Cut that showed off her beautiful chest and gave you a glimpse of her breasts. It gave you such anxiety, you had always had a crush on the older woman thanks to how sweet and seductive she was, but this only made this worse. It's almost like the dress she had worn accentuated not just her body but everything that enchanted you about Larissa. The way her ruby lips formed into that iconic smirk, the way she let petnames slide off of her tongue as easily as she wanted them too, everything.

"Hm...You know I don't like liars...right sweetheart?" Larissa asked, leaning on her desk slightly as she traced her pointer finger across the slight ridges of the wood.

"Yes ma'am, I know you don't like liars," You muttered, biting your lip as your eyes darted away from the beautiful goddess-like woman across from you.

The full sentences and complete answers were odd, and Larissa recognized that. It wasn't only what added into her suspicion of you and your feelings, but it also feed into her own desires she had been having since she first saw you.

When she first saw the way your knees were highlighted by your skirt beautifully grazing over them as soft as a summer wind hitting a tree, she had already decided that she wanted those knees on the ground, amd your pretty little mouth begging for release.

"So try again, I want a full answer," She demanded, her fingers flexing sensually as they began to grip at the ridges tightly, gripping it as tightly as you would wanher to grip your neck.

You sighed as a reply, looking down once again at your lap, internally cursing yourself out for how soaked you were in your underwear.

"Your outfit," You managed to choke out despite your obvious flustered demeanor. "I don't want to seem rude...but it just distracted me so much. You looked so beautiful I just couldn't stop looking," You confessed, causing Larissa to blush with a smirk creeping up onto her lips.

"Oh my~" She chuckled, standing up and leaning over her desk once again before gripping your collar with one of her beautiful and slender hands. "So it was someone in the meeting room?" Larissa smirked, biting her lip before speaking up again.

"Do you like me sweetheart~?" She teased, a hint of sincerity in her voice still there.

Her blue eyes bore into your own, sending you into a trance as your legs trembled, you blushed furiously as if that was enough of an answer. You swallow in a nervous manner, looking at the woman holding your collar through hooded eyes as to not lose all of your composure, despite that line being crossed minutes ago.

"Yes Ma'am," You stuttered out, your beautiful (skin color) cheeks breaking out in a rose-colored blush.

And that's when in one swift motion, Larissa quickly walked over at bent you across the desk, your head resting on your now folded arms.

"So..." She said softly yet so seductively as her regal British accent left goose bumps across your whole body. "I think there's something you want from me, do you want me to give it to you?" Larissa asked, making sure to get your consent before continuing with her actions.

You nodded, a pleading whimper escaping your beautiful lips as a way of begging Larissa to touch you.

"I need words sweetheart, full sentences just like you had before," The older woman cooed, stroking your thighs as her middle finger slid through your underwear and slightly tugging on it before it snapped back onto your wet pussy, causing you to whimper.

"Yes Larissa! Please! I need you!" You begged, eyes shutting in anticipation as small and pleading whimpers escaped your throat, only making your more embarrassed that you had now finally revealed all your hidden feelings.

The older woman's left hand slid to your left ass cheek, gripping it hard enough to leave marks from where her red nails dug into your beautiful skin. Her right hand swiftly swiped away your panties and she stuck them in her blazers breast pocket, your body becoming laced with another layer of goose bumps as you felt the cool office air hit your aching and wet cunt.

It was only then you realized where you where, you were still in an office in your place of employ, and it scared you, but it also had ended up managing to turn you on twice as much as any amount of fear of being caught.

"L-Larissa~" You whimpered, only to be met with both of the older woman's hands gripping even harder at your sensitive thighs than they were with your ass.

"Try again sweetling~" The white-haired woman cooed, her tongue grazing the outskirts of your pussy, collecting a couple of large drops of your juices that had fallen from your hole.

"Sorry Ma'am..." You mewled, bucking your hips up just a little as to get some kind of relief.

At the feeling of your hips moving, the older woman couldn't take the anticipation anymore.

She quickly buried her face in your leaking cunt, tongue flicking at your clit as the feeling of pleasure shot through your body, making you moan loudly. The obscene slurping and licking sounds that emerged from your thighs echoing into your ears.

"Mmm...that's what I thought...you've always given me those lusty looks~" Larissa teased, continuing to eat you out as she gripped your thighs like she was using them as handlebars.

"M-Ma'am please~! I've been thinking about you buried in my legs for months, please just a-ah~!!!" You cried, your back arching up as your legs trembled from the pleasure the taller woman gave you using just her tongue.

God the way the woman played with your body, using you like a doll only to be used for, it was just so hot.

"Yes, that's true...but you did lie to me...didn't you sweetheart? So why should I, a respectable boss, reward a naughty employee...?" The taller woman sighed in fake sympathy, eyes filling with sadistic delight as she removed her mouth from your poor wet pussy.

"B-But! I only lied because I thought you'd hate me if I told you, you could've told me your feelings as well!" You protested, legs trembling more than they ever had when you had your own hand in your wet pussy all those lonely nights, dreaming of the taller woman fucking you into pure submission.

Larissa chuckled darkly into your ear as she bent over you, caressing with her hand as her other one fondled with your tits. Her sickenly sweet voice oozing with as much malic and dominance it did lust and care for you.

"Now, now, baby doll... That's not how we speak to our boss is it?" She asked, cutting you off with more dirty talk before you could even utter a syllable of your defense out. "I've given you plenty of hints, giving you my number, flirting with you, but yet I didn't say anything? How does that make any sense?" Larissa asked in a condescending tone, living little nibbles and lipstick marks across your neck as she unbuttoned your blazer, tossing it carelessly.

You internally curses yourself at the realization that Larissa was in fact right, she couldn't have been anymore obvious with her feelings towards you! Yet you knew you were too blinded by the illusion that the woman was such a goddess that she wouldn't know you existed, much less have romantic or sexual feelings towards you.

"It doesn't ma'am," You sigh with a shaky voice, biting your lip in anticipation for her to start teasing your or even spanking you.

Larissa only manages to leave three hickeys on your neck in response to your increasing submission for her, leaving you even more needy for her to speak, for her beautiful voice to fill your ears.

"Y'know...I would punish you for being such a naughty little teacher and being all riled up for your boss in her own office...but that body of yours is so damn hot," She purred, sliding herself back down to where you needed her most, licking long strides into your spongy yet soaking wet sex.

You buried your head into your crossed arms, moans choking out of your throat as your most sensitive spots of your body was pleasured by the woman you had loved for so long.

"Mmm...oh you're such a sweet thing, you're already so close?" Larissa asked, the vibrations from her seductive voice shooting more pleasure towards your clit.

You nod, not even needing Larissa to demand you to beg for your release.

"Please Miss! I won't be a liar and I'll be good! Please I've been waiting for you to be inside of me for months! Please! I'll do whatever you want!!" You screamed in ecstacy, eyes rolling back into your head as your hands gripped at the wooden edges of the desk you weren't currently being bent over and fucked mindlessly on.

The moment she heard you begging without her telling you to beg, Larissa knew she wanted you to cum as much as you did.

"C'mon sweetheart, cum for me, cum for your boss whom you lust over," She smirked devilishly, eyes narrowing as she sped up her tounges movement, only to be met with your eventual white and sticky release fluids.

You whimpered out your high, bucking your hips into Larissa's mouth as your body relaxes, trembling slightly.

The taller woman unexpectedly picks you up before sitting on her desk chair, her strong hands holding your body perfectly as you unintentionally relax into her warm figure.

"Thank you 'Rissa..." You mumbled, kissing the white-haired woman's cheeks softly as you caress her hand that wasn't soaked in your release.

"It's no problem sweetheart, now do me a favor and clean my fingers off, they got a little...dirty after you came everywhere," Larissa chuckled devilishly, to which you eagerly began to suck all the cum off of her beautiful fingers.

It was embarrassing licking your own cum off of your boss's fingers and you knew it, but at this moment in time, you felt safe to do such embarrassing things. The way she treated you after being so rough with you only locked in your love for the taller woman, you didn't care about any consequences and neither did Larissa, why would you two? Larissa would certianly loss her job for a person as beautiful as you, and she'd honestly prefer to do things like this in places where you guys could get caught, then everyone would see who you truly belonged to.

[the-wintry-mizzenmast]

笛花 Dihua/Feihua prompt fill for @dharjeeling Still on the topic of @lyselkatz's post-canon fanart of silver-haired Li Lianhua and bearded A-Fei.

[When Di Feisheng finally woke up, Li Lianhua's hair was so lily white. But he was standing, his cheeks flushed with life, and Di Feisheng would do it all over again.]

-----

When Di Feisheng finally wakes up, sunlight is already streaming through the windows of Lotus Tower. He pushes himself up to his elbows, and the motion catches Li Lianhua’s attention. The old fox hurries over to the side of the bed from where the congee has been simmering in the kitchen.

It smells like congee now, like something that an ordinary person might actually want to eat, instead of reeking of noxious fumes like a medicinal warehouse that’s been set on fire. It’s a sign that Li Lianhua’s senses are returning, that he can smell and taste again, that what the Bicha poison took from him is slowly being restored. 

The light captures Li Lianhua’s silver hair as he stands at Di Feisheng’s side, framing his benevolent features with the radiance of a bodhisattva. The next thing that comes out of his mouth, however,  shatters that illusion. 

“You went too hard last night, A-Fei. I don’t approve.” 

Di Feisheng wants to tell him there’s no such thing as going too hard, that the way Li Lianhua’s cheeks are flushed with life and vitality prove that more than anything, but it’s too early in the day for such melancholy sentiment. 

So he says instead, “I know my limits,” and before his husband can protest, he adds, “and I know yours too.”

Li Lianhua purses his lips. “I’ll get you some food. You know, you’re lucky I can walk today,” he mutters, as if that’s his chief concern, and not the fact that every time they dual cultivate, Di Feisheng uses up a little more of his internal energy to dissolve what remains of the Bicha. Li Lianhua doesn’t like it, but how Di Feisheng chooses to use his internal energy is not for him to say. 

It has taken almost two years for them to get here, for the majority of the poison to be cleansed, and it may take another two to five before it is driven out completely. Li Lianhua’s hair has turned completely white, and Di Feisheng already has a lock of white at his temple. Li Lianhua plays with it often, curling it around his finger, or paying it extra attention when he brushes his hair. Di Feisheng knows that he may also go completely silver before the last of the Bicha is gone, but he takes it as a sign that they will remain together well into the white hairs of old age, as the expression goes. The thought pleases him. 

They sit down at the table together, Di Feisheng’s bowl filled almost to the brim, Li Lianhua’s own only half full. 

“I’ve already eaten,” he explains. 

Di Feisheng stares at his own husband with a faint frown, but then picks up his spoon and digs in. He can tell when Li Lianhua is lying—the subtle shift in his voice and gaze, the flex in his fingers—the old fox isn’t lying right now. 

There’s a rule that Fang Duobing set when all this all started—when you eat at Lotus Tower, you eat together. It means that Li Lianhua has had to eat whenever they do, has to snack whenever they snack. It’s gradually put some meat back on those skinny fox bones, and Di Feisheng is thankful that Fang Duobing had the good sense to make up that rule and then enforce it.

Li Lianhua reaches forward, and Di Feisheng thinks there must be a fleck of rice stuck in his beard. Instead, Li Lianhua takes his chin and strokes a thumb through the short, rough hairs there. 

“You’re getting a bit of white in here too,” he says.

That’s news to him, but Di Feisheng finds he doesn't mind. “It matches the hair,” he replies and shoots Li Lianhua an easy, reassuring smile. For all that Li Lianhua is an old fox, sometimes he is afraid—of wanting too much, of Di Feisheng is sacrificing too much, of being undeserving of whatever he receives. The fear rears its head less and less as the Bicha recedes, when Li Lianhua can see that he is needed and he is loved, and that not all of the ills of the world were born from the hubris of his youth.

There is a long road yet ahead of them, and it is precisely because of that that if Di Feisheng were given the choice, he would do it all over again. He wants to walk this road with Li Lianhua, and Li Lianhua only. 

They finish their meal, and there is much to do before the day is done—dishes to wash, floors to sweep, a whole field of golden wangchuan flowers to tend to. They get up, and set about the chores, together.