#i wonder if my take was obvious to everyone else but i've had this in my mind for while after watching the movie

[itstheval]

Memory of Dreary Days / Siffrin Gets An Earring

A @livesworthlivingau Side Story

It was a lovely autumn day, and Siffrin was miserable.

This wasn't anything new, they'd come to realize. The events of Dormont had changed - and possibly Changed - them, but that was months ago, a little over a year now. No, this frustration was newer, possibly the last few months, but they'd managed to identify it over time.

They watched Mirabelle and Isabeau, in front of them, chatting about what Changes they might want to make in the future. Isabeau had a whole list of ideas, but Mirabelle was being more cautious, as usual. Odile was watching and writing, and Bonbon, they were sitting on Nille's shoulders as both of them added their two coins when they had an idea. Leaving you, Siffrin the Traveler, as an outsider. Again.

It wasn't their fault, you knew it. You were empty inside, and this entire adventure you were on was to fill you. That was something the doctor had mentioned, that you seemed to agree with…You didn't have a past, so they were making you one, because they wanted you to. So why were you being talked over, and around? Why were they treating you like a pet, not someone with their own ideas?

The only thing worse than knowing it was it being known, unfortunately. It seemed like they came to a pause in conversation, and Isabeau looked back as though remembering you existed after so long ignoring you.

"What about you, Sif? Got any ideas for big Changes?"

You could laugh. You could sob. You remembered being as large as the sky, and just as filled with stars. You pictured yourself, star-headed and lightless-skinned.

"I don't think so! That's a Vaugardian thing, isn't it?"

The words were more bitter than you imagined them to be, and the second they left your lips you knew that they were wrong. A second after, you told yourself otherwise. "Words can't be wrong", the doctor had said, "If you mean them. You're trying to express yourself, not win a game." Well, from the way everyone else's faces fell, that was good, because you'd have just lost hard.

"That doesn't mean you can't Change! There's Houses everywhere that will take you in and help you, too."

"Yes," Odile continued. "I've thought of using them myself, during my time here, but I never had time to stay in one place, what with…everything."

"Really, madame? You're so pretty! What would you even change?"

And the conversation was off again…Odile explaining her heritage yet again, too-thick hair and too-wide eyes for ka bue, too-thin eyes and too-thin hair for Vaugarde. You wondered, sometimes, if Ka Buans had thought she was as pretty as Vaugardians do. You wonder, in the moment, if they'd bother talking to you again.

They hadn't.

You'd caught Isabeau looking over at you, with something more thoughtful than pity, but you could see the pity in it. Whatever he had in his mind, it wasn't enough to make him ask about anywhere else, or change the subject. Quietly, you thought about how much nicer it would've been if you'd just gone for a comfortable lie instead.

▬▬▬

It was a rainy, autumnal day, and Siffrin was bored.

It wasn't anyone's fault, everyone knew that was just what happened in Autumn. You found somewhere to stay until the rains ended, or you trudged through the worst mud that you could imagine. Bored or miserable, and to the family the choice was obvious. Siffrin had been…letting themself think of them that way for a while, even without telling them. Their little secret. Maybe not their family, but they were the family, and nobody could blame him for that, right? Watching Mira read to Bonbon, watching Isa and Nille talking about, of all things, carpentry, and Madame writing in those inscrutable books of hers.

You hated it. You hated listening to it, you hated being part of it, and you hated being trapped in it. It was nothing like the loops, you knew, but it was almost worse in its way. Watching everyone else with a role, with something to do, and you off to the side like some pet. You'd already napped yourself dry, and nobody had begrudged you sleeping through breakfast, even if it meant you were likely to stay up well after the candles were out at night. But the rest of your day…

You sighed. Sitting there wasn't going to make you any happier, and you'd already looked at all of the books Mira had brought with her. You'd read through the horror stories until they started showing up in your dreams, when Mirabelle had banned you from reading any more of them because of how you'd been whimpering in your sleep. Isa had tried to defend your right to read, but the looks Odile had given him had made him blush in a peculiar way and stop trying, and that had been the end of it. The less said about the romances, the better. You understood that Vaugarde was an open place, but the things they dreamt up to keep two people from each other felt so cliched, so unreal, so impossible that you couldn't get into them.

So, you laid there, in a bed, in a wooden room, staring at the ceiling until the morning came.

How familiar.

That thought sent a shudder down your spine that you knew everyone noticed, but you got out of bed before any of them could comment on it. No, you were dealing with this. You weren't being dealt with, not this time. You hopped up, and walked over to Odile, who closed her book as you approached.

"What could you be writing down now?" you found it in you to ask. "Vaugardian rainy-day games? I thought you were a master at those." The joking tone managed to reach your voice, you thought, and you were glad for it.

"Oh, I wasn't writing at all. Believe it or not, I'm designing something."

"Designing?" The surprise in your voice was clear.

"Well yes. You have your woodcarving…Or had it, when we were near forested areas enough to find scrapwood. Mirabelle has her writing. I thought I should perhaps try my hands at something creative."

"Oh, can I see?" This was WAY more interesting than laying in bed!

"If you can guess what it is, then yes. It wasn't fair that I didn't get to see your face when my research was revealed, after all." Her smile was coy and knowing, but she did, ultimately, have a point.

"Oh, is it…" You looked around, trying to think of what could be in the room that she could draw inspiration from.

"Clothesmaking? Like Isa plans to?"

"Nice try, young one. But that's your one try for the day." Odile's eyes turned up as she thought about the idea. "Besides, do you think I'd compete with Isabeau? In something he's planned for that long?"

You had to concede the point.

▬▬▬

"Carpentry?"

"Can you imagine me swinging a hammer, Siffrin? I know my limits, and they stop well before there."

▬▬▬

"Bookbinding!" You thought for sure you had her on that one. Something to do with her precious books, and something she could study from Mira's colleciton and her own?

"Sadly, no. But, now that you mention it, maybe I should."

▬▬▬

So the days had passed, until things were clear again. The world was colder now, and you could feel it around your cloak, but everyone was well prepared for it. You'd all gotten your own instructions on what to purchase, and been sent off to pick up supplies, which had taken the whole day between bartering and transporting. Thakfully, without Mira there you managed to get a Savior of Vaugarde Discount, and used the extra coin to pick up a pain au chocolat. Some things, it seemed, were eternal, and this one you didn't mind.

So it was that you returned to the inn, one hand with a canvas bag full of smaller bags, spices and flour and other things for Bonbon, the other letting you munch away happily, but you found yourself pausing outside the door. Something was wrong, you could feel it. You finished your treat quickly, and opened the door with a hand on your dagger. A pre-feeling, something that you couldn't put words to, told you that there was something going on beyond the door

You were right.

But not how you thought.

Instead, the family had been standing around in a half-circle, seemingly waiting for you to get back! You barely had time to rescue the groceries as a Bonbon-shaped missile impacted your legs and held you, Mira following after on the other side and Nille even stepping in to ruffle your hair, as Odile looked on fondly, and Isa…Hid something.

As lovely as the feeling was, your suspicions were raised far too high.

You managed a laugh, and to pull yourself free of the hug after enough time that it had started to loosen, before staring down Isa. Watching his cheeks darken was almost worth he price of admission, even as the others spoke around you. Again.

"I told you he'd notice!"

"You hardly had a better idea, Mirabelle."

"Uh-uh! We shoulda done it at dinner! Make sure he's comf-ta-bul."

"Comfortable, Boniface."

"That's what I said!"

It all flowed around you, as you stepped closer to Isa, and sighed. "I know what bonding earrings are, Isa." You allowed, holding out a hand, making him stutter even worse - and sending a roil of laughter around the room from everyone else.

That wasn't it? Then what was he hiding?"

"You're half right, I'm afraid. This is actually something we'd all been thinking about for a while…The past week just proved how important it was. It's not bonding earrings, but…"

As Odile spoke, Isabeau brought a black jewelry box around, holding it out to you. His words were trembling and small, in the way he always seemed to do only for you. You wished he wouldn't…his big booming voice was always so nice.

"We noticed you don't have any earrings yourself, Sif! And…I mean, you're as Vaugardian as any of us, if you want to be. Not that you should feel like you have to give anything up for us! But! I thought this might…make it easier to remember?"

What…were they saying?

Isabeau opened the box, and instead of one of his black i-earrings like you'd expected, a pair of star-shaped earrings rested inside. They were a light shade, just dark enough to notice around your hair, and obviously handcrafted. The edges were imprecise, the designs weren't symmetrical, and you could feel the love in every angle.

You stared. You didn't know what else to do.

Isa was saying more things, and it sounded like other people were responding, but you lifted up a hand to the box. A shaking hand, you realized when it was halfway there. Trembling, uncertain, but you didn't dare stop now. Not when they'd put so much effort in.

"-know what I was working on, the past few days. It's something of a rush job and it shows, but it's even more Vaugardian to have it made by your family, isn't it?" Odile was speaking.

Made…by your family.

Made by them.

You cried. You wrapped your arms around the giant body of Isabeau and you cried and you sobbed and you bawled and for once in your life, you weren't ashamed of a single sound you made. There wasn't any room for it in your heart. Not with everything else you were feeling.

Everyone else was holding you in moments. You turned, as best you could in the group hug, to include all of them. You knew you were getting tears and snot all over them and you didn't care. They were there. They were your family. They…You were one of them.

In that moment, of all moments, you were loved.

[best-enemies]

I have watched Red, White and Royal Blue twice now and i'm past that scene on the book so nothing can convince me that Henry didn't invite Alex to the polo match just so he could show off his riding abilities if you know what I'm talking about

[aziraphale-is-a-cat]

DPxDC Warlock Batfamily

They're not warlocks in the traditional sense, no fancy spell work or obvious theming. In fact, most anyone less magically attune than John would just assume they were metas like anyone else on the team, but they weren't.

It took a while to notice, just passing off the magical fluctuations around them as the ebb and flow of the natural world, or maybe some residual curse vibes from Gotham (ew). But it was too consistent. When Batman slipped into the shadows it pulsed, and when Oracle seized control of nearby computers it surged. When Nightwing took his inhuman leaps into the air simply trusting that he would reach his lading point it soared and when that nightmare of a Robin brought a room to darkness it rested like a heavy weight on his shoulders.

They weren't individual users, their eclectically cohesive group structure was too uniform for that; but they weren't some family of sorcerers either, being quite obviously unrelated by blood save for a few. The most likely answer was that they were all warlocks in service to some common diety, taking on aspects of its power to enforce it's will upon the mortal world- and John really hoped it was a helpful entity, because they were in deep shit.

Peeling the partially liquefied tentacle off from across his chest, Constantine sat up and brought his hand up to cup his bruised face. He prayed to whatever was least likely to hold a grudge that their little hail Mary there had bought them enough time to perform a summoning.

"Hey Bat, get your patron on the phone, this is getting fucking Eldritch."

"What the hell are you talking about," Hal Jordan pushed himself out of the rubble with a massive green fist construct. "Bats isn't a magic user."

"Hm." Batman grunted as he picked bone shards out of his gauntlets. "I'll need to get something for the ritual."

Everyone present sat up to look at him like he'd grown another head, except Superman and Wonder Woman who seemed a little excited.

"I'm sorry, you're a magician?" The Flash pipes up from behind the ruins of an old altar, only to receive a level glare from his black clad coworker.

"Warlock."

"Oh."

Constantine grabbed onto some chains hanging from the precariously damaged ceiling, rising to his feet. "We don't have much time; that thing's off licking its wounds in space or something, but it'll be back. You go off and collect whatever artefact you have from wherever you hid it and I'll start drawing the circle, where are we pulling your Patron from?"

Batman nodded in agreement. "The Infinite Realms."

"Fucking Hell."

-

The Watch Tower was crowded when Batman returned flanked by two other members for his little hero coven, carrying a small case decorated with constellations and nebulae.

Wonder Woman stepped up to look at the container, obviously curious, but not touching it.

"It will be wonderful to see him again, Batman. After this is dealt with I hope to hear the tales of my sisters from beyond."

"He'll definitely be happy to chat after we're done," Nightwing commented. "I hear he's been training with Pandora."

Red Robin nodded to that, an exasperated look on his face as he likely anticipated a long and drawn out conversation about different kinds of swords. Amazons liked their blades.

John gave that idea some concideration, Amazonian ghosts probably get up to some killer fights without having to worry about, ya know, death. He called out to the Dark Knight, "I've got the circle done, now we just need your call."

The three of them walk over to the summoning circle unceremoniously carved into the watch tower floor, Batman narrowing his eyes at the damaged paneling but saying nothing otherwise. The Dark Knight opens the case in his hands and pulls out what appears to be a small model space station.

The Coven spread themselves evenly around the circumference of the circle and Batman begins the ritual. "Salve patrōnem, egō stellam vocō." He throws the model space station into the circle where it appeared to float as the symbols in the ground lit up.

Slowly, a figure formed in the center, first as hands holding the model and spreading out over its arms and to its body in the shape of a young boy. He seemed to be wearing a black rubber hazmat suit with white accents and green lichtenberg figures crawling up his left arm. White hair appeared and with it piercing green eyes that seemed to be fixed on the toy in his hands. A cape flowed out behind him less like fabric and more like the endless void of space littered with stars and a cold weight settled on the room.

"Damn B, y'all really fucked up the floor this time."

Red Robin snorted, "Nice to see you too, Danny."

[grandline-fics]

I love love loooooove your work! If I may, I'd love to request a little friends to lovers scenario with Ace ❤️‍🔥 perhaps with a bit of meddling from the crew, perhaps with a hint of a drinking game/drunken flirting? No matter what, I'm sure I'll love whatever you write as much as I've loved everything else so far 🥰 Hope you have a wonderful day!

DESCRIPTION: Tired of you being 'just friends' some of the crew decide to interfere to get you both together

WARNINGS: Nothing, just the fluff that comes with the friends-to-lovers prompt

CHARACTERS: Ace

WORDS: 1,590

A/N: I honestly don't know where I was going with this half the time but I really hope it's to your liking and fits what you were looking for. Thank you for the request!

*REQUESTS ARE OPEN*

DIRECTORY | PROMPT LIST

———————

From the day you and Ace met on the deck of the Moby Dick, your friendship was instantaneous and unshakable. After a week the crew had made bets on when you two would finally get together. Sadly for all of them, they were all unable to cash in on their guesses because still after all this time the two of you had yet to see the obvious. As far as you and Ace were considered the two of you were best friends and absolutely failed to see how utterly perfect you both were for the other. It was infuriating for the crew to see both you and Ace hook up with people on evenings the ship docked at an island. It annoyed them even more so to see that neither you or Ace would become in anyway jealous of those evenings. It wasn’t long before a new bet began to circulate around the crew about how long it would take for you and Ace to finally see what everyone else saw. Some were beginning to believe it was a lost cause for you both. Others however weren’t going to let that happen.

One evening you were sat on the railing of the ship, your back against Ace’s side with your head relaxed against his shoulder as you stared out at the ocean. This was your usual spot with Ace, one neither of you questioning how intimate it seemed as to the both of you it was just comfortable. Besides Ace was a naturally affectionate person so it wasn’t out of the ordinary for him to do this with anyone in the crew, it was just coincidence that you were the one he sought out most of all because you two were practically joined at the hip. Keeping your eyes on the calm waves you wordlessly took the slice of apple as it was being held out to you on the tip of Ace’s knife. As you finished chewing, the ship hit a rogue swell of the wave and lurched forward. Because you weren’t expecting it you tumbled forward, almost being knocked overboard. Thankfully you were saved by Ace’s arm bracing around your waist and pulling you back to safety.

“My hero.” You grinned up at Ace playfully, swooning fully into his arms as his laughs joined yours.   Your moment together was interrupted when Marco called for Ace. You yelped when he adjusted his hold on you and hauled you up onto his shoulder as he stood on the railing before jumping down onto the deck. Ace approached Marco who stared at you both with a practiced neutral expression. He was one of the members of the crew who was waiting for you and Ace to get together. This arrangement wasn’t anything new for Marco so he brought Ace into a conversation about the individual Division tasks needed to be done when they docked at the next island. Through it all you merely continued to be draped on Ace’s shoulder, enjoying being carried about the place. Just as you were getting comfortable in the position Izou called your name. With a sigh you expertly disentangled yourself from Ace’s hold while Ace also helped you back onto your feet, maintaining eye contact and his conversation with Marco through it all, his actions practically as natural as breathing. The sickening display of synchronicity only furthered Marco’s resolve that enough was enough. 

“Um, excuse me?” Izou and Marco turned to see a woman approach them not long after they all settled into the tavern. “I don’t want to make a fool of myself but that man over there. Is he single  or is he-” She moved to love over her shoulder at Ace but stopped when she saw you were now at his table, pulled onto his lap due to a lack of seats. “Oh…never mind. They’re a cute couple.” Together Marco and Izou shared a look and grinned. 

“This next round is on the house in honour of the newlyweds!” A voice shouted out from the bar. You and Ace cheered out with the entire bar at the prospect of free drinks, looking up in happiness in hopes of seeing who the married couple were but you couldn’t see them. It was a large building and already filled with groups. When Marco and Izou appeared with the drinks you sat forward in Ace’s lap to reach for your mug only to be stopped when Marco leant in to you both. “Thanks for the free drink you two-yoi.” He grinned before taking his seat. 

“Wait…what?” You laughed out slightly, glancing over your shoulder to see the bar owner smiling at you and Ace. Quickly you forced yourself to smile back and quickly turn your head back to Marco while Ace looked just as bewildered. “What made him think we were married?”

“That’d be my doing.” Izou answered smoothly, hiding his disbelief that even with you literally in Ace’s lap with his arm around your waist that either of you would find someone believing you two to be a couple to be confusing. “Marco bet me that I couldn’t wrangle free drinks from the barman and well, who can resist a couple of newlyweds?” 

The lie came from the Division Commander so cleanly and with such ease that you and Ace couldn’t even find anything in his demeanour to make you doubt his words. Together you and Ace shared a look, momentarily tense as you now really noticed your seating arrangement. Unable to help himself, Izou added more fuel to the fire. “I hope you two can convince him you’re actually a couple otherwise we could find ourselves in trouble. Remember we promised Pops we’d be on our best behaviour tonight.”

“Please,” you scoffed leaning back to settled against Ace’s chest and reached back to lightly cup Ace’s jaw while Ace tightened his hold around you, leaning into your touch. The both of your met Izou’s stare with mirrored confident smirks, never backing down from a dare. “There’s no way he’ll doubt us. Right sweetheart?”

“You got that right babe.” He chuckled before quickly pecking a kiss against your cheek making you laugh. Grinning, Ace placed another kiss against your cheek to draw another laugh out of you, finding this game to be enjoyable. He paused however when someone started to chant ‘Kiss’ at you both, drawing more and more voices into the chant until it was all you two could hear. 

Clearing your throat you turned in Ace’s hold until you were properly facing him, your hand remaining against his jaw while your other hand settled on his shoulder. You both met each other’s stare evenly and filled with trust and playfulness. To you both this was just a skilful ruse to avoid the owner of the bar from getting suspicious that you were both merely friends. Leaning in you let your breath ghost over his lips for just another brief enticing moment before the distance was closed and your lips met to the sound of whooping and whistles of the excited patrons. Not that either you or Ace were paying attention to the outside noise. 

All you two could focus on was the magnetic pull of each other, the kiss too dizzying and intoxicating to just stop right away but slowly and reluctantly you both parted. Sheepishly you both smiled at the other, eyes flickering down to the lips you couldn’t help but want to taste again. Both you and Ace didn’t truly know what to make of what had just happened but you knew something certainly had happened. Something that while it had been started because of a silly game, was something very real. Smiling softly, you turned in his hold to grab your drink and pass Ace his too, settling against him once more. Regardless of the kiss you felt no different in his arms, it still felt like security and home. A small smile played on your lips as you felt Ace’s hand remain on your hip and let his cheek rest against your head, showing he too didn’t feel uncomfortable with what just happened. 

When the crew began to scatter about the bar you felt Ace’s nose lightly nudge your cheek to get your attention and you turned your head slightly to meet his stare. Even with the alcohol in his system he still held a bright sharpness in his gaze. “I don’t know about you but that was one of the best kisses of my life…”

“Well it’s because of my kisses that you proposed, surely?” You teased before settling your hand on his arm that kept you anchored against him. “But seriously…yeah. One hell of a kiss.”

“I feel like if I ask for another it definitely wouldn’t be because we need to convince someone we’re together. It’ll be because I want us to be together.”

“So we’d have gotten married first, had our first kiss second, and now start dating third? A pretty weird order to do things.” You laughed, sitting up to wrap your arms around Ace’s neck and let your lips inch closer to his. “But you know what? It doesn’t feel weird at all.”

Ace nodded in agreement before eagerly closing the space against you once more to kiss you insistently and more heated than the previous kiss. 

Against the bar, Marco slid the large bundle of money over to the bar owner to cover the round of drinks that had been claimed as ‘free.’ “Worth every penny-yoi.”

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TAG LIST (If I've missed anyone or if you want to be added just let me know) @3v37773, @tsaaps , @i-am-all-love-puns-and-lazy , @sanemisnonexistenteyebrow , @fiery-captain-spider-santa @kabloswrld , @atanukileaf

[certaimromance]

𝜗𝜚 Holding Us.

Spencer Reid x Fem!reader

Summary: You finally had a perfect date with the guy you like, you even kissed and everything seemed perfect. But suddenly he starts acting weird and you think you know this behavior.

Words: 2,5k.

TW: mentions of trauma, death, injuries. drugs and addictions!!! especially spencer's history with them. angst and also comfort???. spoilers for season 2. english is not my first language (sorry for my mistakes, be kind please).

Note: Next time I'm probably going to write something that might be all fluff, but drama and angst are calling to me.

♡ Enjoy! ♡

The taste of green tea, accompanied by ginger, entered your throat again and you couldn't help but let out a sigh. Your reading glasses fogged up and you mentally cursed yourself for not remembering to take them off sooner. Your mind was elsewhere and the bandage on your right hand made it impossible for you to go about your business normally.

You settled into the jet seat and tried to ignore the pain you felt in your arms to continue reading normally and turn the page, but it was still impossible and not even your favorite hot drink worked as medicine. All the recent events were replaying in your mind like a movie, and being attacked by a serial killer on your first case after a long flu break was worthy of a dramatic script.

Fortunately, Spencer was your partner at the time and helped you just before the unsub could use his knife on you badly and end your life in the blink of an eye. You had cut your hand deeply in the middle of the struggle and Reid appeared to save you when you were lost, even with his few physical skills, he fought the man as best he could and shot him without even hesitating.

You didn't even get a chance to thank him because it all happened so fast and he'd been acting weird since you came back to work after your break. In the ambulance, he barely looked at you when the paramedic finished patching you up, asked if you were okay, and then went back to acting like you were a pest to be avoided at all costs. You kept wondering if you'd done something wrong, because just four weeks ago the two of you had the best date of your lives, even kissed, and now you weren't even acting like friends.

You began to wonder how much could have changed in a week. Everything was fine until you officially went back to work and tried to act normal. You got sick after the date, Spencer was a gentleman and brought you soup and flowers for days, even though he knew you wouldn't let him see you. And then, overnight, you found out that he'd been kidnapped in a case while you were away, and assumed that was why his constant messages and calls had stopped. You came back thinking that you could be a support to him after such a traumatic experience, but instead he avoided you.

“Is everything okay?” Hotch's voice startled you, almost causing you to drop your cup on the floor. He was sitting in front of you and you thought he was asleep like everyone else.

“Oh, you scared me.” You put your hand over your heart and put the teacup down on the table to look at him.

“You haven't answered my question.” He insisted, settling back in his seat and giving you a look that compelled you to tell him everything. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, I was just thinking about what happened and how I didn't get a chance to thank Reid.” You admitted somewhat awkwardly, not wanting to make it obvious that your feelings went beyond friendship, although deep down you knew it was clear. “I've seen him acting strangely, I think he's avoiding me.”

“You should try to talk to him and ask him what's wrong. He saved your life today, that's not something you do by avoiding someone.” Your boss said in a reassuring tone, noticing your great nervousness about the subject. “I don't think he'll have a problem talking to you, and now he seems as thoughtful as you are.” He finished, pointing with his head.

You took the moment to look at Spencer and noticed that Hotchner was right. He looked as pensive and confused as you had been during the minutes you had all been traveling. He was frowning slightly, fiddling with his fingers and looking out the window, even though it was night and there wasn't much to see because of the darkness. You couldn't help but wonder if he was thinking about you.

“I hope you're right.” You murmured, taking another sip of your tea and looking at the papers the man was going through. “Strauss will send me home after this, right?”

“You can't do much with your injured use hand, you need a few days.”

“I'm fine and my other hand is fine, I have not even had to take painkillers. I've got it under control.” You replied tiredly, trying to ignore the pain you felt by making a gesture. “Please don't send me home. I can't anymore, I have to work or I will go crazy.” You added, practically begging him.

“Don't get used to it.” He warned you in a serious tone before continuing. “But I'll talk to her and you stay out of it. You'll just profile and theorize until your hand is right. Nothing more than that and where my eyes see you.”

“You're the best boss in the world, really, I'll buy you a mug that says that.” You said, getting up from your seat and holding back the urge to hug him, knowing it was too much.

“Agent.” He called out to you in a serious tone before you could do anything. “Be careful and tell me if you are in pain...just don't tell anyone I intervened for you or I'll fire you.”

“Understood, sir.” You replied in the same formal tone before heading for the bathroom.

Something inside you knew it wasn't normal for the stitches in your hand to hurt so much, so you slipped into the plane's bathroom as quickly as you could, thankful that most of the team was asleep enough to notice your groans as you moved forward and closed the door behind you. You carefully removed the bandage, seeing that a few stitches had opened up, and pulled the painkillers you'd been given to ease the pain out of the bag, but before you could take any, a couple of knocks on the door made you jump and pray it wasn't your boss.

“Who is it?” You asked in confusion.

“It's me, Spencer.”

You didn't even have to think before you unlocked the door and yanked it open with your good hand.

“Do you want to come in? I was just leaving...” You started to babble as soon as your eyes met his and all the nervousness of a teenager in love appeared.

“I wanted to know if you were okay, I saw you come in complaining of pain.” He explained calmly, lowering his gaze to your hand and watching it with concern.

“Oh, don't worry. I'm fine.”

“May I check?” He asked cautiously, and you nodded a little nervously.

You went further into the bathroom so he could do the same, and he did, taking the back of your injured hand after washing his hands to make sure everything was okay. He touched you so gently that you almost forgot the pain you were in without even taking the painkillers.

“One of the stitches opened up, that's why it hurts. But it's not infected, so they should just sew it up and you'll be fine.” Spencer reassured you while you looked at him carefully.

Incredibly, this was the first time since your return that he had said more than one sentence to you, and he was less than a meter away from you. It made you feel like a fool to be mildly excited about it.

“And how are you? You were the hero who took the worst of it and saved my life.” You pointed as you watched him carefully apply a new bandage to your hand.

As soon as you asked, he pulled away and unconsciously put his hand to his stomach, where the unsub had elbowed him pretty hard in the middle of the struggle. “I'm fine. Nothing I can't handle.”

“Sure?”

He nodded and ran his fingers gently over his stomach, wincing as he tried to hide the pain. You always thought he wasn't very good at hiding things. As soon as he looked into your eyes and saw your worried face, he repeated that he was fine. You raised a skeptical eyebrow, not believing him for a second about his supposed well-being. You had spent enough time with him to know when he was hiding something, just by looking into his eyes.

“You're a terrible liar.” You said, looking at him with narrowed eyes while he repeatedly shook his head. “Then let me see.”

Spencer's eyes widened at your request, but the blush that appeared on his cheeks betrayed that there was more than embarrassment in his expression. He hesitated for a moment, but finally agreed, knowing he wasn't going to get out of this one. He slowly lifted his shirt, wincing as he did so, revealing the large red bruise on his stomach, just above his hip.

Your gaze fell on the large red bruise on his stomach and you gasped, covering your mouth in shock. It was much larger than you had expected and the color much more intense. You reached out tentatively and gently touched the bruised skin, causing him to flinch involuntarily.

“Are you in much pain?” You asked in a worried voice, trying to decipher his expression.

“It hurts a lot.” He nodded slowly, wincing as you touched the sensitive area, sending a shiver down his back. “But I'll be fine, really.”

“Okay.” You whispered, not knowing if it was time to move away from him or not. Not knowing what to do, you spoke again and didn't move. “I wanted to thank you for what you did, I haven't been able to before.”

He seemed surprised by your appreciation, and even more so when you stopped touching him and took a step back.

“I would never let anyone hurt you.” He said seriously, as if it were an oath.

You looked at him for a few seconds to make sure he meant it, and then you looked down at the ground. Something inside of you was screaming at you that this was the time to talk to him and put all your doubts on the table for him to resolve. You needed answers or you would go crazy, and maybe this was the time.

“Spencer.” You called out to him and waited for him to look at you to start talking. “I wanted to ask you what's wrong, if I did something or I don't know, apologize if it was like that, because it's terrible to see you avoiding me.” You began to speak quickly because you were nervous. “And if it's about the other night...our date and all that. I'm really sorry if I made you uncomfortable and pushed you into something.”

“No, you didn't do anything.” He stopped you immediately and tried to touch your face to make you look into his eyes, but he couldn't because of a sudden pain in his stomach and he had to lean against the sink. “The date went well, very well. It was actually wonderful.”

“What's wrong with you, why are you acting like this all of a sudden?” You asked him. You asked him, taking a few steps toward him and noticing that his eyes were on the painkillers you had left on the sink. Then you noticed how dilated his pupils were. “Are you in a lot of pain? Do you need these?”

“I'm fine, I'm not acting out in any way.” He replied, completely ignoring your last question, but still with his eyes on the meds.

“Come on, I know you. I know there's something wrong with you, and you don't have to hide it.” You persisted, trying to understand what was happening to him. You could tell by his body language that he was tense and defensive.

“I said I'm fine.” He cut you off.

“No, you're not, I realized something is wrong.” You tried to approach him because of his erratic behavior. His hands had begun to shake and his fingers were inches from the box of painkillers. “You can trust me, I know you and I'm here for you.”

“You think you know me that well already?” His tone made you feel uncomfortable and invasive. You could tell he was bothered by your implications. “One date doesn't get you that far.”

Ouch, that was a low blow.

“I didn't say that, Spencer.” You said, trying not to sound defensive. You didn't want to start a fight when you were just worried about him. “I just want to help you.”

“I don't need your help.”

You were silent for several seconds, your eyes following his to the painkillers. “But you need these, don't you?”

The trembling of his hands intensified with your question, you could see his pupils seem to dilate even more at the sight of the drugs in your hands, and his breathing became irregular. He nodded several times after your question, desperate to get his hands on them.

“Since when?”

“What?” He asked confusedly as you took the painkillers from his hands.

“You know what I'm talking about.” You looked him straight in the eye with seriousness and much more concern than before. “I know an addict when I see one.”

Your words had hit him like a big bucket of cold water, freezing him in place. He barely blinked a few times before he spoke.

“I don't know what you're talking about.”

“We both know.” You took a few steps toward him and took his hands, stopping the trembling in them. “And that means you're not alone in this anymore.”

He could hardly believe what you said. His mind had convinced him that if you found out, you would yell at him, turn your back on him, or report him, and instead...you were comforting him?

Spencer felt unable to look at you, the guilt washed over him. He tried to pull away.

“You...I'm a drug addict, and you're not even mad?”

“I'm not one to judge you, but I am one to help you.”

His eyes widened slightly at your words. I couldn't believe what I was hearing. He desperately wanted to protest, to tell you that he was hopeless and completely lost...but how could he? You seemed so determined to stand by his side and support him, even after learning such a painful and shameful truth.

“You won't...leave me?”

“I would never leave.” You gave him a small smile and felt him drop his head on your shoulder and relax. “It's going to be okay.”

Finally, he closed his eyes and let out a choked sob without pulling away. Your words had hit him at a low point, and the reality of the situation had come crashing down on him after he had tried to ignore it for so long. He slowly embraced you, feeling that he would collapse without your support.

“Everything will be fine.”

And you were so sure of it that you saw yourself in the mirror every day.

[six-eyed-samurai]

I've seen a lot of people who write Muichiro as someone who sort of forgets he's not dating you in the crush stage, but my take is that Muichiro actually forgets he's dating you and thinks he's in his crush era.

🌸He'll approach you suddenly, a couple times a month, with a serious expression and red cheeks, to confess his not-so-secret crush on you from since the day you both met, having forgotten he had already done so and you both were already together

🌸You usually just go along with it until he gets to the "I hope you feel the same but I'll understand if you don't" part; then you break it to him with a shy laugh that he had already confessed and you both were going out

🌸It's not tiring at all to keep repeating the same scenario, not at all! Muichiro is so cute when he does it, unconsciously pulling an innocent puppy expression and staring at you hopefully. And when he remembers you both are a couple he'll immediately light up ever so excitedly, attack you in a hug, press his forehead against you and apologize in a flurry of "Sorry" and compliments

("How did I manage to pull someone like you?" He wonders out loud. You laugh - he's too cute for his own good.)

🌸Not only that it's honestly become a guessing game with you to see what method Muichiro would confess to you again this time. You both have approximately cycled through confession by love letter, gifts (he might've stolen it forgetting it belonged to someone else, but it's the thought that counts, right?), cloud-gazing date, outright declaration, jealous blurt...yeah, you've gone through every single trope there was possible

🌸Your favorite one was when he threw an airplane across the room to you and when you unfolded it he wrote a little sweet confession. You still have it, along with the rest he started throwing to you to 1. get your attention 2. annoy you 3. ask you to join him for training or cloud-gazing

🌸 You've told him multiple times it's okay if he wants to stare at you anytime he likes after catching him doing it one day, like he did when he was in his crush phase, but he forgot and acts like he just got caught performing the most atrocious crime on earth: looks away immediately and vehemently denies it

🌸Everyone around you guys thinks it's super funny and adorable how Muichiro would start talking about you and abruptly end it with something like "Is this what people mean by having a crush?" or "I would really like to be her boyfriend someday if I manage to confess and she accepts." As said above he gets really puppy-dog excited when he's told "Aren't you guys dating already?"

("We are?" Muichiro frowned. "I don't remember..." His eyes widen. "So that's who left me that daikon today..." Then he runs off forgetting he's in the middle of conversation to go find you.)

🌸Sometimes it's a little awkward when it comes to dates though. Say there's a festival happening in a nearby town or White Day and you've been planning to spend the day having fun with him - Muichiro's going to forget you're both together and be too shy to ask you out despite that's all he's thinking about. Then you have to remind him, or someone else triggers it.

("I'm so sorry I didn't ask you!" Muichiro pushed a small box of chocolates towards you. "I got you this as an apology if it makes up for it? We'll do anything you want for tonight if you want?)

🌸It's always funny when Muichiro gets sulky or starts moping around when he hears about your boyfriend and how you're gushing over him because he forgot it was him. You like to tease him about it by listing out all the qualities you like about him and the usual praise until Muichiro asks who it is, his jealousy quite obvious.

("You, dummy!"

Muichiro blinked, then groaned, grabbing onto your side and looking up at you pathetically. "Don't play with me like that!")

🌸Of course it's not all fun and games. If this is before he met Tanjiro and regained his memories he can be pretty cold to you when he doesn't remember about your relationship, leading to a lot of things you both have to talk through after a fight.

🌸Worse case scenario is that he still remembers you as a crush, but decides that instead of confessing like before he ought to push you away before you became a weakness, a distraction...someone he'd lose.

🌸After he gets back his memories and becomes more like his old self however, he doesn't forget your relationship anymore, meaning to make up for all the times he did. In fact he flexes it, wanting to tell everyone about the both of you all the time to the point your default face is now "extremely flustered".

🌸Especially when he's jealous, actually.

("I heard that (y/n) has a crush though, do you really think you still stand a chance?"

Muichiro whipped his head around at the sound of the two slayers gossiping in the corner during a break from his training. A slight crease forms between his eyebrows and he decides to go a little harder on them later.

"Nah, it's fine! I'm a hundred per cent confident she'll say yes as long as she isn't dating anyone!"

"But I heard she is," a third slayer joined in, leaning closer conspiratorially. "A Hashira, actually."

The guy in question bursts out laughing. Scumbag. "As if! Don't be so stupid. She's already lucky she could get MY attention."

"Who would want a stupid mizunoto like you?" Muichiro smacked the slayer with the flat of his blade expressionlessly. The other two yelped and scrambled back. "For your information (y/n) got my attention - and now you have mine: go run ten laps around the Estate and if I hear you defile her name again I'll make it a hundred."

He blew a raspberry at the poor wretch as he ran past.)

[bangchansdirty-slut]

Can you please do the office meeting fucking "hyunjin x m'reader" please?? I'm begging you! :D

Boss's Request

•───⋅⋆⁺‧₊☽⛦☾₊‧⁺⋆⋅───•

Paring: Top!Boss!Hyunjin x Bttm!Assisant!Male Reader

Genre: Smut

Summary: Hyunjin decides to spice up the meeting after being pent up and teased by you all day.

More: Masterlist

A/n: Requests are open

•───⋅⋆⁺‧₊☽⛦☾₊‧⁺⋆⋅───•

The fashion world was abuzz with anticipation as the new Hwang Hyunjin line was about to be unveiled. M/n, the boss's "personal" assistant, was running around like a chicken with its head cut off, making sure every last detail was perfect. Hyunjin himself was pacing the floor, his usually immaculate suit rumpled and his hair mussed. Something was clearly bothering him, but no one could quite put their finger on it. Everyone else was too focused on the new designs and the potential impact they could have on the industry.

Meanwhile, M/n caught a glimpse of Hyunjin stealing glances in his direction every now and then. It was almost as if the boss was… admiring him. M/n couldn't help but feel a blush creep up his neck. He'd been with Hyunjin for long enough to know that look, and it usually meant trouble.

As the final touches were being put on the collection, Hyunjin called M/n over to his office. Once the door was closed and they were alone, Hyunjin leaned against his desk, his eyes raking over M/n's body. "You've been busy lately," he purred. "I've barely seen you. I've missed…" He trailed off, biting his bottom lip. "I've missed my stress reliever."

M/n felt his heart skip a beat. He knew exactly what Hyunjin meant. Their relationship had been secret for months, but it was no secret that whenever M/n was around, Hyunjin seemed to forget about everything else. He was always so focused on M/n, and it drove him wild.

As the two went to the meeting and sat down, M/n could feel Hyunjin's eyes on him, even when he was speaking with the other designers. It was a mix of desire and possessiveness that made M/n's blood race. He tried to ignore it, but he couldn't help but feel turned on by the attention.

The meeting went on, with M/n doing his best to keep his mind on the task at hand. But every time Hyunjin shifted in his seat or let out a soft groan, M/n's focus would slip. It was obvious that Hyunjin was struggling to contain himself, and M/n couldn't help but wonder what would happen if he gave in to those urges.

Finally, midway through the presentation, M/n felt Hyunjin's hand snake its way up his inner thigh. He glanced over in surprise, only to find Hyunjin's dark eyes locked on him. The boss's expression was a mix of desire and possession that made M/n's heart race. Without another word, Hyunjin leaned over and whispered in his ear, "I can't take it anymore. Bend over the table."

Embarrassment washed over M/n as he complied, lowering his body and resting his elbows on the smooth surface. He felt Hyunjin's fingers trace the line of his boxers and pants before they were roughly yanked down, exposing him. The cool air from the air conditioner hit his sensitive skin, making him shiver.

But any hint of modesty was quickly forgotten as Hyunjin's hard length pressed against his entrance. There was no gentleness in the thrust, only a primal need that took control of the boss. M/n let out a gasp as Hyunjin pushed deeper, filling him completely.

Their moans filled the conference room full with employees, drowning out the sounds of the other designers as they presented their work. M/n could feel Hyunjin's hips slapping against his ass, driving himself deeper inside him with each thrust. He arched his back, unable to contain his own pleasure as his boss took control of him.

The other employees shifted uncomfortably in their seats, trying to pretend like they weren't watching the intimate scene unfolding before them. But Hyunjin didn't seem to care; he continued to fuck M/n, his gaze never leaving the other people in the room. He let out a husky laugh as he pulled out, only to thrust back in harder. "See, M/n? They're all looking away. They're afraid of what I'll do to them if they say anything about this. And you? You're mine. You have no reason to be embarrassed."

M/n gasped as Hyunjin's words sent a shiver down his spine. He couldn't deny the thrill he felt, knowing that they were putting on a show for everyone. It was a power play, and Hyunjin was in control. He arched his back, meeting Hyunjin's thrusts with equal fervor. The boss's cock felt impossibly big inside him, stretching him in ways he hadn't thought possible.

"That's it, baby," he whispered in M/n's ear. "Make them jealous. Make them wish it was them up there, taking my cock." With each thrust, Hyunjin's hips slapped against M/n's ass, driving him deeper inside. The boss's hands gripped M/n's hips tightly, holding him in place as he took him roughly.

M/n could feel his orgasm building, the pleasure overwhelming him as he felt so completely owned by his boss. He moaned Hyunjin's name, the sound filling the room as he lost control. His muscles tensed, and he arched his back, meeting Hyunjin's thrusts with a ferocity that left them both gasping for breath.

As he came, M/n felt Hyunjin's own release, felt the hot liquid spill over his entrance as the boss found his own release inside him. Their bodies moved together in perfect sync, the rhythm of their movements mirroring the power struggle that had brought them to this moment.

When at last they came down from their shared high, Hyunjin pulled out and tucked himself back into his pants. He straightened his tie, adjusting his suit jacket before turning back to face the others in the room. His expression was cool and confident, as if nothing out of the ordinary had just transpired.

M/n, on the other hand, felt a mixture of emotions as he tried to regain his composure. His heart raced, his body still trembling from the intense release. He looked around, feeling the weight of the other designers' gazes on him, knowing that they had all witnessed what had just happened. But he also felt a newfound sense of power, of being a part of something bigger than himself.

Hyunjin leaned back against the table, his chest heaving as he caught his breath. His eyes met M/n's, and there was a smug satisfaction in them that M/n couldn't quite place. "Well," he said, his voice still husky from their exertions, "I think that's enough for today. You all have your assignments. Get back to your desks and make me proud."

As the other designers began to file out of the room, murmuring amongst themselves, M/n lingered behind, still feeling the aftershocks of their encounter. Hyunjin placed a hand on his shoulder, guiding him towards the door. "Come on, M/n," he whispered in his ear, "let's go back to my office and discuss your performance today."

[thezombieprostitute]

What's Mine

Summary: Bucky pushes you too far and decides to explain how your situation works. Or doesn't.

Word Count: ~2.3 k

Warnings: Dark Fic, Implied dub/non con, Power imbalance. Please let me know if I missed any.

Previous Part

It's been a few months since Bucky "claimed" you. He followed up on his promises of taking care of you. You frequently woke up to some surprise gift or another. One day it was a fully stocked kitchen. Another day it was the leak in the bathroom sink getting fixed. More than a few times it's been jewelry with his initials on it.

And all it cost was letting him use you. You swear a piece of your soul dies every time he makes you cum. Every time he coats you in his semen. Every time you match his fervor. It might not be so bad if he didn't gloat every time. That damn smirk haunted your dreams. Or was it nightmares? What was the difference anymore?

It had definitely affected your standing in the community. People were scared to interact with you. Fewer parents brought their kids to the library when you were there. Ruth and her friends had no problems calling you all sorts of degrading things under their breath. You definitely caught them giving you the evil eye more than a few times.

Part of you suspected that if you'd quit trying to fight him he'd lose interest. He liked when you were in a fiery mood. If you could just give in, give up, he'd likely stop using you. But you couldn't help yourself. You hated him. You hated yourself for enjoying the pleasure he gave. That hate needed an outlet.

You pull into your driveway, no longer surprised to see Bucky's bike there as well. You sigh, wondering if you can talk him into to leaving. You're exhausted. Walking into the house you don't even have a chance to take your jacket off before Bucky is on you.

"Bucky, please no. I'm just too tired."

He chuckles, "don't worry. I'm just really happy to see you. We're going out tonight."

You sigh, "I'd rather stay in."

"Then that means you have the energy for me all night."

"Ugh, fine. Where are we going?"

"I've got you an appointment at the tattoo parlor."

"WHAT?! I hate tattoos! I can't get any!"

He smiles as he growls at you, "you're going to get a tattoo just for me. No one else is going to be able to see it, but we'll know it's there."

"Isn't the jewelry enough of your 'ownership'? You even got me a brooch for my cardigans with your initials!"

Bucky licks his lips, "it was just the beginning, Doll. So far everything I've done to mark you are things that can wash away or heal up. This is the next step."

"I refuse," you declare, crossing your arms.

"Fuck, Doll, you're getting me riled up." He puts his arms on each side of your head, boxing you in against the wall. "And you're getting that damn tattoo. We can either go now, while you're still cleaned up, or after I've fucked your brains out and you're a cum covered mess."

"Fine," you drop your head. "Let's go to the tattoo parlor."

"Not yet." He grabs you chin and makes your look at him. "You need to thank me, first, Doll."

Bile rises at the back of your throat. "Thank you for letting me preserve my dignity."

He laughs. "Give me another," he taunts, using the same voice as when he's telling you to give him another orgasm. You hate yourself for the involuntarily clench your pussy does.

"Thank you, Bucky, for...for introducing me to Bunny. It is nice to have a friend." A friend who understands how fucked you both are, you think.

That gets a more sincere smile on his face. "It is important to me that you know my best friend and his girl. I'm glad you're good to them. Bunny is gonna need you when she's pregnant."

"What are friends for," you dryly reply.

"That's my good girl, Doll."

The tattoo is pretty much what you expected. His initials, right over your heart. If you wore anything low cut, it would be obvious. You were sure that was the point: can't even show a hint of skin without reminding everyone who it actually belongs to. At least it wouldn't be a problem at work, given you always dress conservatively.

By the time you're home Bucky is practically salivating at the memory of the tattoo on your chest. He might be eager to see this permanent mark of his claim on you but at least he's willing to follow instructions for proper care so it doesn't scar or make you sick. You made sure to thank him for that, knowing he likes to hear it, and he reiterates, "I take care of what's mine."

"Any chance I can just get some sleep tonight? I wasn't lying when I said I was tired."

"I'm all worked up, Doll."

"I thought you take care of what's yours," you snap back. "How is keeping me awake, not letting get good sleep, taking care of me?"

He grips your chin and gives you a thoughtful look. "I suppose you're right," he admits. "Even a vibrator's batteries gotta recharge every so often, right?" You roll your eyes and he grins. "But I'm going to hold you all night and when you wake up, it's on. I know you don't work tomorrow."

"Is that why you helped with my budget? So I'd have more free time to be your personal toy?" You can't fight the fire in your voice. You're tired, yes. Tired of being so angry all the time.

"Aww, you admit you're mine," he teases.

Unable to hold back any longer you smack his face. "I have never been so angry or tired as I have been since you showed up. You want to take care of me? You want me to be yours? Treat me like a fucking person!" Tears are pouring out of your eyes, the stress and frustration of the months finally finding a kind of release.

Bucky glowers at you and grabs your throat with his metal arm. "You shouldn't have done that, Doll."

"I don't care anymore," you croak.

That seems to catch him off guard as his hand loosens and his face softens.

"Oh, Doll," he shakes his head. "You really should've said something sooner." You squeeze your eyes shut as more tears start falling. He removes his hand from your throat and brings you in for a hug, causing you to cry even more. He pats your hair and coos, "there, there," until you can't cry any more.

"Let's get you to bed," he says quietly.

"I...I don't...I don't understand."

He gently lifts your chin, "you know, before Bunny ran, I tried to warn Steve he was being too controlling. That she was going to bolt. He didn't listen and, sure enough, she escaped. Wouldn't surprise me if she continued to try because he hasn't learned to loosen his grip. I don't plan on repeating his mistakes. Yes, you're mine and you'll never be rid of me. But that doesn't mean I can't be benevolent."

You sniffle as your brain tries to comprehend the sudden change in his demeanor.

"Now lets make sure that tattoo is properly cared for," he says with a soft kiss to your forehead.

"I...I hit you," you stammer.

"You're over-stressed and tired," he shrugs. "If I thought you were doing it just because you wanted to hurt me, yes, there would be repercussions. But I've apparently been overworking my poor Doll, so I'll forgive that one smack." His tone at that last part implies any more attempts to lash out at him will be punished.

"Thank you, Bucky," you murmur as you hang your head.

"Mmmm. That's more like it. Now let's get you to bed and tomorrow we'll work on your communication skills."

You wake up feeling like you're hungover without having had any alcohol. The delicious smells of breakfast lure you out of the bed, even though you dread meeting the cook.

Bucky's shirtless and smiling as he works. If you were in anything close to a healthy relationship you'd smile at how happy he is. Instead you keep your head down, trying not to think about that metal hand wrapped around your neck. About how those muscles feel pressed against your back, or on top of you.

He sees you and gestures for you to sit at the table. He brings you a plate of breakfast, a mug of coffee and kisses the top of your head before sitting across from you. You don't eat right away like he does, lost in your confusion about this change in behavior.

"Eat, Doll," he orders. "I didn't stock your kitchen and cook this up just for you to let it go cold."

"What is going on?" your voice is barely above a whisper.

"I'm taking care of my girl," he answers, nonchalantly. You look at him like you've never seen him before and he sighs. "Eat, or I will force it down your throat."

You grab a slice of the toast and start chewing. "Thank you, Bucky," you grumble and he nods in his approval.

"One of the differences between me and Cap is that I know I'm a monster," he tells you between bites. "He likes to think we've done all of this to keep his girl safe and give her the life she always wanted. I know better. But we've been best friends since we were kids. Ride or die, you know? So I'm always going to have his back. I've just made peace with the fact that it means ruining lives."

"You never tried to talk him out of it? Out of taking over an entire town?"

He shakes his head. "Steve's the kind of guy who can never be talked or distracted from his goal. One of the things I find endearing about him."

"So, he gets you all to take over everything here and you, what? Enjoy the spoils?" Feeling the bile rise at the back of your throat, you go for another slice of toast to try to settle your stomach while keeping Bucky happy.

"It's a balance," he grins. "We take over and just start doing whatever the hell we want, a lot of people are going to die trying to get rid of us. So we set up some rules for our men. People will remain upset, of course, but they're less likely to 'rise up' so long as we have a level of restraint. It's, honestly, the biggest part of my job as Cap's second."

You think on this for a minute, mindlessly eating. "I get why the town, but why me?"

He shrugs, "I needed the stress relief. It ain't easy keeping a crew in line and I was initially just hoping for a quiet spot to read to calm down. Then I started watching you. Saw you expertly handle all kinds of difficulties. When you snapped at me, I figured, like me, you could use some stress relief."

"Stress relief?!" He gives you a look that has you clamming up.

"And fuck you were so good," he muses. "That first photo is still the background on my phone." Heat rushes to your face. "I decided to go ahead and keep you as mine. You're not only a good fuck, but you were quick to befriend Bunny. Everyone else who sees her with Cap has decided to avoid her. Something I know you've been experiencing, even though you haven't told me." You look down, unable to say anything. "I honestly thought you liked the rough treatment and was happy to give it, but I'm guessing we hit a limit for you."

"You branded me," you snarl.

"No, I got you a tattoo. Branding is something else and would've hurt you a lot more." His tone is stern and you return your attention to your food. "You've played a critical role in helping me keep things under control. Plus, since you're my girl, you get some privileges and protections. You think Steve would've beaten up Walker for some random librarian? No. But for his best friend's girl? That's another story."

"So, you're just going to keep using me?"

"Yes," he nods. "And now that I know more about your limits, I'm less likely to get stabbed in my sleep."

You look at him, aghast, "that's why you never stayed the night before?"

Bucky chuckles, "so smart. I love it. And now that you have more information, hopefully you're smart enough to put the rest of the pieces together."

"If I hurt you, Steve drops everything to find and kill me. Probably painfully." He nods. "If I make you angry, you're likely to take it out on someone who doesn't deserve it or you lose control of your men for long enough that they hurt someone who doesn't deserve it." He nods again, smiling at you. "And if I stop playing along like everything is okay, it's another sign to the townsfolk that might set them over the edge and have them shooting, getting hurt, or worse."

Bucky finishes his breakfast, nodding at your conclusions. "God, I love that you're so smart. Makes a lot of this so much easier." You start sniffling and he reaches across the table to gently grip your chin. "I get that this is a lot to take in, Doll. But I know you'll make the right decision. If you really didn't care about this town, you'd have left when you only had a skeleton budget. You're willing to work yourself to the bone to take care of these people, you're willing to be mine to keep them safe."

"I can't say 'no'," you whimper.

"But it doesn't have to be all bad. Remember, I take care of what's mine."

Previous Part

Tagging: @alicedopey; @delicatebarness; @icefrozendeadlyqueen; @lokislady82; @ronearoundblindly

[lost-and-ephemeral]

Series: In Her Shadow, pt.2 (ft. main trio)

Part 1 | Part 2

Slowly but surely she replaced you in his heart.

Pairing: Xavier x reader, Zayne x reader, Rafayel x reader (seperate)

Tags: angst, hurt no comfort, reader is not MC, breakup

A/N: I recieved a lot of comments and request asking me to continue, so here we are! I've tried my best. Ty everyone, I appreciate every message, even if it would be hard to mention every single one of them in this post. Also, if you want to be tagged in future fics, let me know!

-`♡´- MASTERLIST -`♡´- 

Rafayel

You began to notice that Rafayel was spending less and less time with you, choosing his bodyguard over you.

It wasn't obvious at first, yeah, but as time went on, everything became so noticeable that you couldn't ignore it anymore. Especially when he forgot about your plans with him and didn't even consider apologizing for it.

The smell of someone else's perfume in his studio, the way Rafayel would leave you at home and take her to all the important events because "you probably don't like spending time among journalists and annoying guests." It seems that he didn't even notice the moment when you were completely estranged from each other.

And all your attempts to talk to him about it ended with nothing.

"She's my bodyguard," he'd say. "No wonder I take her everywhere I go. Is there anything wrong with that?"

Yes, a lot of things were wrong.

But he was completely unwilling to notice it, and you were tired of collecting the shards of your broken heart from the floor day after day. Those warm feelings that brought a sense of lightness and happiness in your heart suddenly turned into pure torture.

You had to end it all, even if it'll hurt so much.

When you arrived at his studio this morning, you came face to face with "Ms. Bodyguard" herself. She was just about to leave, and didn't even hesitate to embrace your beloved. Right in front of you.

Maybe you would've exploded from all these negative emotions, if you had any strength left to be mad or to cry. But there was only emptiness in your heart.

You became strangers to each other.

"I'm breaking up with you," you said without any regret and pushed him away as he tried to hug you. "I don't want to be a second choice after your precious bodyguard."

"W-wait, why? What... But I didn't do anything!" he replied confused, apparently not realizing how much he's been hurting you all this time.

"Maybe that's the point. That you'd do anything for her, but not for me."

He looked at you with the same confusion in his eyes, trying to figure out if it was a joke, but you continued before leaving this place forever.

"You were everything to me, Rafayel. But for you, I was just a small episode of your life. I'm tired. You've been spending all your free time with her, like I didn't exist. It'll be better this way. Goodbye."

No matter how long he was calling your name, asking you to stop, to come back and talk with him, you didn't.

Zayne

Loving a cardiac surgeon with his busy schedule is hard.

But it's even harder when he no longer cares about your existence and spends a significant amount of time with his childhood friend.

After Zayne forgot about your reservation at the restaurant, making you feel like you were the last fool in this world, some more time has passed.

Yeah, he apologized. No, he didn't start spending less time with his "friend".

It's hard to count how many evenings you spent alone when he stayed late at work for her or was invited to a "friendly" dinner with her. But it happened often enough so finally your love turned into suffering.

At first you tried to convince yourself that you're too jealous and he's just happy to finally reunite with someone close to him from his youth. You care about your friends too, don't you?

But it only got worse.

All your plans were constantly adjusted to his friend's wishes. She wants to take him to a cafe at the same time you were planning to go to the cinema? "Sorry, love, let's reschedule our date for another day". You've made him his favorite dinner? Too bad, his friend already brought him dinner at work and he's not hungry.

Eventually you started feeling like he stopped enjoying your time together and just continued to exist in the same apartment with you out of habit.

Talking didn't get you anywhere, because Zayne didn't notice how much he was hurting you (or he simply didn't want to notice it) with his actions and only distanced himself from you even more.

At some point you felt like he put an ice wall around himself again.

He stayed late again this evening, completely forgetting his promise to spend time with you. You packed your things with tears in your eyes, ready to say goodbye to life with Zayne once and for all.

And he showed up at the doorstep of his apartment just as you were ready to leave.

"What's going on?" his voice didn't betray a shred of emotion. "Where are you going?"

"I'm going to leave you and your lovely friend together so I don't have to be an unwanted addition to your life."

Zayne was taken aback at this statement and was about to say something, but you interrupted him.

"You were the one who brought happiness and comfort into my life. You were the one who made me feel loved and wanted. But now I realize that I wasn't good enough for you. Goodbye."

You walked away and closed the door behind you, leaving him all alone.

Xavier

Before, you without a doubt would've said that your relationship with Xavier was the ultimate dream.

But now it wasn't actually true.

Yes, your beloved still showed care and attention every spare minute he had. Just not to you. It seemed as if his colleague started to occupy his every thought.

During dinner, on a walk, after missions. He was always talking about her, how strong she is, and how lucky he is that she chose him as her partner. His eyes were shining with delight you had never seen before.

You were happy for him, but only until it crossed the line. Only until you started to feel like he was in love with her, not with you.

One day you found yourself completely miserable. Xavier texted you that he would be late because they had "decided to celebrate another successful mission". Except that you were usually the one he shared his joy with. But things have changed.

Even though you were the brightest star in his world, you were inevitably lost behind the glow of the Moon.

You were trying to be better, to be more interesting. Trying to reach an unattainable ideal. But you couldn't. After all, maybe you were never meant to be together if it turned out like this. Maybe you weren't enough for him.

You couldn't remember the last day you didn't cry. Sometimes alone, sometimes locking yourself in the bathroom after another conversation about this "super-strong collegue". But Xavier didn't seem to notice it at all.

"I thought maybe you'd be interested to know what happens during missions," he said when you brought up this painful topic.

And, yes, you were interested. But all you heard was, "She took down that Wanderer so easily, I couldn't take my eyes off her." Or, "she's so good with her weapon, it's amazing."

He distanced himself from you so much that you hardly spent any time together.

He wasn't even home the day you left.

Xavier sent you a message saying he'd be late again. As usual, with her. Even though he promised to have a movie night and you had already prepared everything you needed for it.

Maybe it's even better if you don't see the look in his eyes the moment you tell him you're breaking up with him. You packed your things and left a note on the table, next to the snacks you bought.

"Maybe in another universe I would be worthy of you so you could look at me with the same adoration. I can see that you enjoy spending time with her much more. And we should break up so you don't torment my heart anymore. Goodbye."

You glanced around his apartment one last time before leaving it forever.

♡ tags: @skyowlz @prettytemis @aishasreality @randompersonwhoexist @kreishin @reni502 @moonyzstarz @chin-chii

[slasherscream]

I don't normally like make requests from people if it's obvious I'm sorry for my awkwardness.

Anyway you were saying how you were really into Jordan li recently so am I and I've read every single fanfiction or every rant there is about them and I crave more. I have been in a angst/fluff mood and I haven't seen anyone do this idea either. I was thinking thinking maybe Jordan and reader gets into an argument (not really picky about what) and the argument gets really heated (you know how jordan shifts into their male form to Intimidate or get their point across) Jordan shifts into their male form which scares reader (I'm thinking reader doesn't have a good past with angry men) and reader backs away from them in fear Jordan notices and tries to comfort them but reader flinched when Jordan touches them. Reader then asks them to leave so they do but Jordan spends like a week trying to make the situation better.

(I would also like to put reader isn't scared of Jordan more so the action of the blatant Intimidation tactic they tried to use against reader. Reader is angry that jordan would try to scare them even if it wasn't on purpose it still hurt)

Jordan sorta just spends a week following reader around Like a lost puppy trying to treat reader like a absolute queen even if reader won't really acknowledge them until Jordan has an breakdown while drunk coming to readers dorm begging for forgiveness.

Again if its obvious I don't know how to make requests I'm sorry this has just been on my mind for so long.

A/N: this request is absolutely perfect, and exactly to my tastes. thank you for sending it, doll!

WORD COUNT: 4k+ under cut | hurt/comfort and angst/fluff

It’s hard sometimes, knowing when to push and when to just let Jordan be. Not at all a skill you learned over night. You’d gotten good at the push and pull of bringing them out of their shell back when the two of you had just been friends. Better at it than anyone else, at least. It was a slow process, but every second was worth it.

Now on the good days you don’t have to push at all. A hand on their arm. A coaxing smile or two. Any act of connection, no matter how small, enough to make them tell you what’s on their mind. Even if they scowl the entire time they let it out. It’s the letting it out at all that counts. Progress!

Today you miscalculated. It’s been a bad week. Jordan hadn’t dropped in the rankings, but their points took a small dip. They hadn’t been very active on their socials, busy doing work as Brink’s TA. But the point gap between where Jordan sits at #2 in the rankings, and where Andre sits at #3 is still a wide open chasm. 

It’d take something truly disastrous to knock Jordan from the spot they’ve held for three years now. But the rankings are more important than anything to Jordan. No matter how gently you try to bring logic into the situation, Jordan gets irritated quickly, accusing you of not taking it seriously. You often wonder how that could be, considering you’re in the top eight yourself, but you bite your tongue and don’t bring it up.

The group had tried to go out for lunch. It was okay at first, everyone making an effort to ignore the storm cloud Jordan cast over the table as they picked at their food. Then Andre had made some type of stupid joke. Not even about the rankings, but enough to make Jordan snap at him. The situation escalated so quickly that Cate had threatened to take off her glove and make everyone shut up. You paid your portion of the bill and dragged Jordan out before anyone could start up again. 

And now you’re here, somehow also on the shit list for not being supportive enough. As if being supportive isn't everything you do. Day in and day out.

“I can’t believe you’re taking his side. You don’t honestly think it was an innocent comment, do you?” Jordan snaps, standing up from your couch to pace the length of your dorm room. 

“You know how Andre is. He gets sarcastic when he’s hungover, and he was packing a double whammy. He did coke and got drunk last night. He was just a little off. He wasn’t making a real dig at you.” You defend your friend, knowing Jordan will regret what she said at lunch once she’s calmed down. 

“Oh, so we’re all just supposed to tiptoe around his highness? If he was gonna be a dick during the entire thing he should have just skipped coming out with us.” Jordan’s eyes narrow in on your expression, the sudden pursing to your lips and looking away. “What?” She snaps.

You take a deep breath at the tone, “Well, Jordie, if you want me to be honest Andre wasn’t the only one who wasn’t on their best behavior today.” 

A beat of silence.

You look up and there goes Jordan rolling her shoulders back, eyebrows practically in her hairline and you sigh. You definitely should have brought up her attitude later. 

“You really are taking his side!” She scoffs in disbelief. 

“Nope. No, I am not, there are no sides. We’re all friends. Friends fight. I’m just trying to remind you that you actually are friends. You can’t just…” You trail off, uncertain. 

“I can’t just what?” She throws up her hands, volume raising. 

“You can’t act like this every time the rankings do something that isn’t spectacular for you. I know they mean a lot to you but you can’t take the numbers out on the people who care about you.”

“You just don’t get it-”

“But I do get it! We talk about it all the time. Your feelings are completely valid, the way you react to them isn’t. You’ve been giving Andre looks that could kill all week and he didn’t even do anything. If he was a little snappy at lunch, maybe he’s upset that his friend has been treating him like shit over something he barely cares about.” 

“Well if I’m so-” Jordan shifts, pitch of his voice deepening, on the verge of yelling, “-fucking awful why don’t you go run to Andre and cry about it together?” 

He only takes two steps towards the couch before you use your powers. It’s instinct, the way the forcefield bubbles up around you. 

Whatever Jordan was going to say next shrivels up and dies on his tongue. The only sounds in the room are the quiet hum your powers make when you use them, and the scared, panicked gasp you make from inside the forcefield you put up to protect yourself from him.

There’s a second where the two of you just stare at each other. Both in shock. 

“Baby-” Jordan tries taking another step forward, a small, barely there shuffle of his foot. His face falls when the forcefield gets a little louder, glows a little brighter. 

Jordan looks close to tears. It’s that expression that pulls you out of the animal state of fear you’d fallen into. You look away from them. Take a few heaving breaths. Do your best to not mix up faces of the past with your present and future.

Your forcefield flickers out slowly. A concentrated effort. 

“Fuck, Y/N, I’m… I’m sorry I didn’t mean to- I would never ever-'' Jordan shifts again. She rushes too fast into your space to kneel on the ground in front of you, her hands reaching for yours, desperate and clumsy.

When you flinch away, moving so you’re perched on the armrest of the couch, still trying to calm yourself down, she’s left with her hands grasping at air. “Baby, look at me. Please? Look at me, I’m sorry I yelled. I’m sorry that I… I’m sorry. I would never hurt you. I fucking swear I wasn’t-”

“I know, Jordan.” You shake your head, trying to stay calm. “Could you please….leave? I… I can’t calm down right now. I’m trying. I know you didn’t mean to… to scare me, but I need you to go.” 

“Baby, wait, fuck. Fuck, wait! I’m sorry. Let’s just talk. I can’t leave you alone like this. I’m sorry.” She’s panicking now, throat feeling like it’s closing up. 

She doesn’t try to reach for you again, but her hands feel like they’re burning from the effort it takes to keep them away from you. It’s instinct to hold you, to make it better, to pull you closer. She’s always been the place you run to when you’re scared, the shield you step behind when you need to feel safe. She doesn’t know what to do when you don’t even want to be near her.

“We’ll talk later. I’ll… I’ll have Cate come over so I’m not alone. Just.. leave.” Your voice breaks on a sob, and you’re begging her to leave, and that’s what makes Jordan head to the door, legs shaking. She’s never made you cry before. 

She’s glued to her phone the rest of the day, waiting for you to call. You don’t. 

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You’ve been best friends since you were freshman. You haven’t gone longer than two days without talking in all that time since. No matter how busy you are. No matter how shitty either of you feels. Jordan doesn’t know what to do with the hours of the day that you usually fill. 

She breaks on the second day when you show up to class and move to sit by Luke on the other side of the room instead of with her. You don’t even look at her as you walk by. 

Class doesn’t start for another five minutes. The teacher isn’t even here yet, and she’s always late. Jordan moves to get up, already feeling like she’s choking on all the words she needs to say to you to fix this, but is stopped by a firm grip around her wrist. She’s about to snap when she realizes it’s Cate, taking up your usual spot in the seat that isn’t up for grabs because it’s Your Seat. 

“Don’t make the situation worse. She just wants to go to class. Don’t hound her, Jordan.”

“Hound her?” Jordan’s voice raises, incredulous. “She’s my girlfriend. I need to talk to her.” 

“You need to apologize.” Cate bites. “Dick.” 

“That’s what I was trying to do before you stopped me.” Jordan speaks through gritted teeth.

“How about you try apologizing after she’s done all her classes? That way, when you inevitably upset her, she doesn’t hole herself up in her room all day crying. And feel bad about missing class on top of it. You know… the way she spent all of yesterday?” 

“She cried all day?” Jordan’s shoulders sag, voice getting smaller. 

Cate softens, patting Jordan’s hand.  “It’s not just about you, and you know that. Triggers like this really fuck with people. And she’s also pissed that she’s triggered in the first place. Let her cool off.”

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He makes it a few hours before he’s trailing after you. 

He can tell by the tension in the line of your spine that you know he’s there. But you don’t outright tell him to get lost, so Jordan can’t stop himself from following you around. Even if you don’t want him there. 

He sits across from you as you study in the library. Makes puppy dog eyes at you the entire time. He can’t be bothered to unpack his bag. It’d be useless to pretend he’ll do anything besides watching you.  

Two hours in, he gets up and leaves, hating the way your shoulders relax as he turns to go. 

He comes back twenty minutes later with your favorite foods and drink from the best local coffee shop. You don’t reach for any of it. He’s always loved how stubborn you are, how you stick to your ideas. Your principles. How steadfastly you make up your mind. Right now he’s just a little terrified of that same stubbornness. Remembers when you’d only been friends, that first year of peeling one another open, feeling each other out. 

(“I’ll never do it, Jordan.” You’d whispered vehemently, drunk and mad and beautiful. 

“Do what?” 

“Be with anyone who tries to fucking cow me into submission. It’s fucked. I won’t do it. I’ve had enough of it.” 

You’d passed the bottle you’d just had pressed to your lips and Jordan had tried not to think too hard about it, even when he tasted the remnants of your sticky, sweet lip gloss beneath the vodka.) 

He doesn’t get up to leave again until you do. 

Jordan walks you to your dorm, but trails a few steps behind you. He tried walking directly beside you at first, but your hands brushed together and the look you gave him was cold enough to freeze blood. 

So-

-behind it is. 

Jordan doesn’t get the chance to say goodnight before you slam the door in his face as loudly as possible.

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Jordan doesn’t push her luck by trying to walk you to your classes the next morning. She does wake up extra early to buy you the biggest bouquet of your favorite flowers she could find. She leaves them outside your door and goes to class, hoping you’ll at least acknowledge her, the next time you see her.

During your first shared class of the day you walk in holding the bouquet of flowers. Jordan perks up in her seat, holding her breath. You do finally look at her. You make direct eye contact as you throw the flowers into the trash can at the teacher’s desk.

Jordan does not break her pen in half when Andre whispers “yikes” under his breath.

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Two more days and Jordan feels like he’s going insane. He knows you feel worse. One glance at the carefully nonchalant expression you’ve worn all week tells him that. Putting on a mask is nothing for you. That look is the first thing you learned how to do in the top ten. 

You’d never hidden the way you felt around him before. Not like this. His skin keeps buzzing with the urge to corner you. Jordan needs the two of you to talk about what happened. But he’s already walking the world’s thinnest line. 

And he knows he can’t force you, if you’re not ready. 

Another thing he knows: when you’re this upset you don’t clean. Simultaneously, when your room gets messy your depression gets worse. He skips one of your mutual classes of the day and lets himself into your dorm with the key you gave him during first year. 

Jordan looks around, wincing at the chaos. You never let it get this bad. Not even during your most soul crushing finals. He starts by throwing away the trash. The tissues you wiped your tears with. The takeout containers. Pages of your notebooks you ripped out, carelessly thrown around the room. You take awful notes in class when you’re distracted. He hates that he’s distracting you.

He wipes down every surface with your favorite scented cleaner. Dusts your books. Sweeps and mops. Changes your sheets and grabs the brightest, happiest color comforter you have stashed in your closet to put on the bed. As he adjusts the pillows he thinks about how often you spend the night at each other’s dorms. Jordan wonders if you’ve been struggling to sleep like he has. 

He hesitates, but goes to his room down the hall to grab his cologne. He spritzes it lightly over the bed and hopes you still find the way he smells comforting. 

Next is your laundry. He starts up a few loads, irons and puts away the clothes that were sitting in a wrinkled heap on your couch. You’ve always hated doing your laundry. 

He’s heading back to your room, a full laundry basket of clean clothes under each arm when you run into each other.

“Are those my clothes?” You ask, forgetting that you aren’t exactly speaking to him in your moment of confusion. 

“Yeah… I’m… I was cleaning my room. Doing some stuff. Figured I’d do a few of your loads too, while I’m already at it.” He shoots for casualness, knows he fails miserably.

“You didn’t have to do that.” You say, words stiff and uncomfortable. 

“I know I just…” Jordan shrugs, relieved to be standing within a few feet of you after days of silence, and feeling pathetic over how happy something so small makes him. “Why don’t you go get something to eat with Cate while I finish up here?” 

“Finish up what?” You ask.

“I still gotta put these away.” 

You sigh, wanting the conversation to end, “You don’t have to put my clothes away, Jordan. Or wash them. I’m quite capable of doing it myself.”

Jordan takes a step back when you make a reach for one of the baskets under his arms. “I know that! Just let me do it. Doing your laundry always pisses you off. I’ve got it.” 

A battle of wills ignited. You, staring him down. Jordan, trying not to squirm. He wants to try apologizing again but doesn’t know if he’ll only make it worse.

“Please, baby? Go somewhere nice with Cate. My treat.” He puts down a laundry basket (behind him, so you can’t take it) to grab his phone from his pocket, and does something you can’t see. 

When you hear the particular chime your banking app makes when you get a Zelle deposit you roll your eyes. You don’t bother checking your phone and seeing how much he sent. You know it’s too much. But if you say anything he’ll just say you and Cate have expensive tastes (which…true.)

“Maybe you can catch a movie too? I still gotta finish up with your bathroom.” 

“Jordan.” 

“Just,” Jordan shifts, putting down the other laundry basket and slowly reaching out to grab your hand with hers. She could almost cry when you let her touch you. “I know you’re fucking pissed at me. And I know you’re still too upset to talk about it. But…. fuck, please just let me take care of you. Please. I have to do something. I can’t just sit around, after I made you feel like this. It’s driving me nuts. I’m supposed to-” 

You stop her, putting a hand on her cheek and sighing, “Okay, Jordan. I’ll go hang out with Cate while you finish.” 

“Don’t ‘hang out’, go get dinner. You haven’t eaten all day.”

“You don’t know that.”

“I know you.” She says, sullen and staring up at you, playing with your fingers while you’re still letting her touch you, the first time in days. 

“I’ll head to Cate’s.” 

“Nah, head to Luke’s. They’re studying together right now.” Jordan takes a risk, stepping into your space slowly, giving you the time to move away. She leans in and kisses your cheek, gentle. When you don’t move away she can’t help herself, kisses the edge of your lips too. 

You don’t kiss her back, but you give her hand a squeeze as you pull away. You stop halfway down the hall before you turn back to look at Jordan. “Call Cate and tell her she better not be fucking Luke by the time I get to his dorm.” 

Jordan laughs. Your face is a little more relaxed as you turn away this time.

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On Friday the group goes out to the club. They chose one of your favorite haunts, hoping it would entice you enough to join. You still declined the invitation. Everyone knew you would. They still wanted to try. 

You claimed you had a lot of work to catch up on. 

“She hates me. She fucking hates me.” Jordan groans into his hands, already three drinks and two shots in. 

“Well, let’s not panic.” Luke says. 

“Or be dramatic.” Andre snorts, taking a shot of his own. “You two are obsessed with each other. Relax.” 

“Relax?!” Jordan tenses, “My girl won’t fucking talk to me. How am I supposed to relax?” 

“She talked to you yesterday.” Andre drawls. 

“That wasn’t anything. We usually-”

“-Spend every free second of the day together? We know.” Luke teases. When Jordan doesn’t even smile he winces and slides him another shot. 

“She’s not even that mad. She’s more upset than anything.” Cate says, cuddling into Luke’s side. 

Jordan’s eyes follow the movement and he swallows at the distinct lack of your own weight leaning into him. You always get touchy when you’re tipsy. Climbing on top of him, clinging to him like glue. It’s his favorite part of nights out together. That and the playful booing you guys get from the group. 

Andre cuts back in, “I’m serious, dude. Relax! You guys have been together for how long now-”

“Three years.”

“-yeah, exactly. Since the fucking building of the pyramids. You two will be fine. She knows you didn’t mean anything by it. One fight won’t kill you.” 

“This wasn’t a fight, though. I fucked up! You didn’t see the look on her face. When she used her powers… I mean, fuck! You know? She was scared of me.”

“You know that’s not true, Jordan.” Luke protests. 

Jordan runs his hands through his hair, ruining the carefully slicked back style.

“Let’s just get you another drink. Come on, dude.” Andre wraps an arm around Jordan, hauling him to his feet and pulling him towards the bar. 

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You get woken up by the sound of knocking on your door. Loud knocking. You keep your eyes closed, hoping whoever it is will go away. You don’t even want to be awake. Let alone socializing. 

The knocking gets louder. Exhausted, you drag yourself out of bed. You glance at your phone on the bedside table as you get up. It’s three in the morning. Now you’re exhausted and pissed. 

You stomp over to the door, wrenching it open, prepared to cuss someone out. You deflate when you see who it is. “Oh, hey.”

Jordan is leaning heavily on the door frame, staring at you with watery, red eyes. She looks like the walking dead. “Baby. Fuck, did I wake you up? I thought you’d still be awake. You said you were pulling an all-nighter.”

“I was tired. Just wanted to sleep.” You shrug. “Where’s everyone else?”

“Still at the club, took an uber back. Too fucked up for anything else.” She mutters.

“That’s good, Jordan.” You say. 

“You haven’t called me Jordan since freshman year. What happened to Jordie?” She sighs. 

Your face softens. “Baby…”

“No, wait, just let me…” Jordan leans her forehead against the door-frame, closing her eyes tight. “I’m sorry. I fucked up big time. I’m sorry that when I get pissed I take it out on everyone around me. I’m sorry that I don’t fucking listen when you’re just trying to make me feel better. I’m sorry I yelled… I’m sorry I shift-”

“Whoa, hey.” You cut her off, shocked. “You shifting isn’t the problem, Jordan. Fuck, come inside, honey.” You say, taking her hand and pulling her inside. 

You sit the two of you on the couch, clicking on the light so you can see each other. You move so you’re facing each other, pulling her hands into your lap. “First off let’s set one thing straight. You shifting is never the problem, okay?” 

“You got so fucking scared.” Jordan looks away, hair falling into her face.

“Not of you.. Just the fucking… optics of it! I don’t ever want you to be something you’re not. And you’ve got the incredible gift of being able to be whatever you feel like being any time you want to.” You reach out and touch her cheek, guiding her to look at you, “I don’t want you to not do that. I wouldn’t ever want you not to do that, okay?”

“Okay.” She says. There’s a moment of silence, then Jordan shifts. He looks for any sign of fear or hesitation, holding his breath. When he doesn’t see any he relaxes. “But I scared you so bad you used your powers.” 

“Yeah, that did happen.” You nod, caressing his cheek with your thumb, “Maybe it’s just a little scary when someone bigger and stronger than me starts yelling like that. Also, invulnerable. Let’s not forget that. Food for thought.” 

He closes his eyes, “I’m an idiot.” 

“For yelling at me? Yeah, just a little. Don’t yell at me like that no matter what form you’re in. That's always scary. Couples talk. They don’t yell. Most of the time. We can’t be the couple that does that.”

“I’ll never yell like that again. Either form. I promise.” Jordan says, “Can I hold you? It’s been a fucking week. I’m losing my mind.” 

You laugh, climbing into his lap and Jordan sighs, wrapping his arms around you as tightly as he can. He tucks your head into his neck. “I missed you like fucking crazy.” 

“Missed you too.” You sigh, “Stay the night?” 

“You’re not leaving my sight for the next two months.” He laughs, pulling you closer.

“Only two months? That’s fucked up, I thought you missed me.” You tease. 

“Shut up.” He scoffs, kissing the side of your head. 

You snuggle closer, letting the tension of the week drift away.

“You yell at me like that again and your only hope is being invulnerable, actually. I’ll put you through a wall.” You kiss his shoulder cheerfully. 

“I’d do it before you got the chance.”

You burst into laughter and he pulls your head away from his shoulder so he can see you the way you’re supposed to look around him. Happy. Content. He can’t stop himself from kissing you. You can’t stop yourself from kissing back. 

[jetii]

Mutually Beneficial Arrangement

Part One | Part Two

Pairing: Thorn x Senator!Reader / Thorn x fem!Reader

Words: 13,570 / 34,682

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only! enemies to lovers kinda, forced proximity, bodyguard!Thorn, protective!Thorn, smut, unprotected sex, fingering, oral (f receiving), manhandling, spanking, marking, dirty talk, kind of a lot of dirty talk and most of it is so unserious, size kink?, Thorn is a cocky bastard but it's earned, he's actually very nice despite the tags, there's an epilogue

Summary: You're the most infuriating charge Commander Thorn has ever had the misfortune to babysit, and yet, you're also the one he finds himself falling for.

A/N: I have nothing to say but 🤭

Previous Work | Next Work | Masterlist

"Well, Senator, it's been a pleasure," the Governor says.

Thorn forces himself not to roll his eyes. It's the last day of the week, and the final event you have to attend before returning to Coruscant. It's an evening dinner, and the guest list is filled with politicians and government officials and people Thorn has heard more than enough of over the last several days. Thankfully there have been no surprises, and the night has passed without incident. Now, everyone is exchanging pleasantries and saying their goodbyes.

You smile, the perfect image of politeness, and Thorn wants nothing more than to get the two of you out of here. You're clearly tired, and he can tell that the constant stream of socialization is wearing on you. He's surprised that you're able to maintain such a positive, energetic disposition. He would have lost his mind days ago.

"Thank you, Governor," you say, dipping your head. "It's been a wonderful visit, and I'm glad to have had the opportunity to work with you and your staff."

Thorn stifles a sigh. He's heard this same speech several times already, and he's had to listen to the others respond in turn. It's an endless cycle, one big charade, and Thorn is grateful that it's finally ending. He's ready to go home.

The Governor beams, a wide, genuine smile on his face. He claps you on the shoulder, a gesture that seems far too familiar, and Thorn has to resist the urge to push him away.

"Of course, Senator," the Governor says. "We've been honored to host you. I only hope that our hospitality has been satisfactory."

"It's been wonderful," you assure him, and Thorn nearly chokes.

You're lying through your teeth, and it's obvious. Two of his staff tried to assassinate you, and there's a very real threat against your life, and yet you're telling the man that it's been a great visit. He doesn't know whether to laugh or shake his head in disbelief.

"I've had a lovely time,” you say.

"Come back any time, my friend. It's always a pleasure having you here," the Governor replies, and you laugh, the sound low and melodic.

"Don’t say that, you’ll never get me to leave," you tease.

This time, Thorn does roll his eyes, grateful that his helmet is hiding his expression. The Governor lets out a loud laugh, clapping you on the back once again.

You take a step back, and Thorn takes a step forward, placing himself between the two of you. It's a subtle movement, one that the Governor doesn't seem to notice, but you glance at Thorn, a look of amusement and gratitude on your face.

"I wouldn't complain," the Governor laughs. He turns to Thorn, his gaze sweeping over him. "Take care of our Senator, Commander."

"With my life, sir," Thorn says, a note of steel in his voice.

"Good man," the Governor nods and turns back to you. "Safe travels, Senator. Let us know if there's anything else we can do."

"Thank you, Governor," you say. "Have a good night."

The Governor bids you farewell, and the two of you part ways, with Thorn trailing after you as you make your way through the crowd.

You stop, pausing to speak with a few more guests, and he takes the opportunity to look around the room, searching for any signs of danger. Things have been quiet since the attempt on your life, and he’d personally interrogated the would-be assassins to ensure there would be no more surprises, but that doesn't mean he's not going to remain vigilant.

There's a momentary break in the crowd, and you catch his eye, a tired, grateful smile on your face. It's the first time all night that the two of you have been able to lock eyes, and Thorn's stomach flutters. He's never been more thankful for a helmet, because he's pretty sure that his face is as red as his armor.

You nod, a subtle movement, and Thorn responds in kind before he turns his gaze back out at the crowd.

He doesn't have a name for what's happening between the two of you, and he's not sure what to call it. All he knows is that it's something. Something significant.

You're still pushing his buttons, still teasing him and testing his patience, but there's an undercurrent of something deeper. A respect, and an understanding, and a desire that makes his heart race. He doesn't want this to end, and the idea of returning to his old life, without you, is unbearable.

As the room starts to empty, and the staff begins cleaning up, Thorn notices that you're nowhere to be seen. His heart drops, his blood running cold, and he frantically scans the room, searching for any sign of you.

He spots you a moment later heading out into the gardens, and his shoulders sag with relief. He moves to follow you, and then hesitates, not sure if he should intrude. He doesn't want to bother you, and he doesn't want to ruin the moment. But the idea of leaving you alone is too much for him to handle, and he's out the door in an instant.

The gardens are empty, and the moonlight filters down through the trees, casting a soft glow on the stone path. The air is warm, and the sounds of the city are muted, and Thorn takes a deep breath as he tugs off his helmet, relishing in the peacefulness.

He can see your figure in the distance, and he picks up his pace, not wanting to lose sight of you. You're walking slowly, your back turned toward him, and he pauses, watching as the breeze catches your hair and the moonlight shines on your skin.

You look beautiful, and he’s struck by the sudden realization that this is the last time he's ever going to see you like this.

In a matter of hours, you'll be back on the cruiser, and Thorn will return to his regular duties, and this chapter of his life will come to an end. And, even though he knew it was coming, the thought of it makes him feel hollow inside.

He doesn't want this to be the end, and yet, he doesn't know how to stop it.

Thorn takes a deep breath and starts down the path, making his way towards you. The sound of his boots crunching on the gravel causes you to turn, and you look up at him, a fallen flower twirling in your fingertips. 

He catches a glimpse of a strange expression crossing your face, your eyes shining, and he frowns.

"What is it?"

You smile, shaking your head, and his frown deepens. You're looking at him with a sadness he’s never seen before, and he's not sure what to make of it. You're not wearing your usual mask, and he's not used to seeing such open emotion on your face.

"Nothing," you reply with a shrug. The look is gone as soon as it appears, and you turn your attention back to the flower, rolling it between your fingers. 

"Tell me," he orders. His voice comes out harsher than he intended, and he winces. 

You glance at him, raising a brow. "What's with the tone, Commander?"

"Just tell me," he says, softer this time.

You sigh and look away, your gaze sweeping over the garden. It's a warm day, and the scent of flowers drifts through the air. The two of you are standing in the middle of the courtyard, the sky a deep blue above you. It's easier to see the stars here than it is on Coruscant, and Thorn is reminded once again that he's far from home.

"This is it," you murmur.

"This is...what?"

"This is the last night," you say, and he swallows. "After tomorrow, we’ll be heading back on Coruscant, and then your assignment will be over."

He knows this. He's known it since the beginning. But hearing you say it is still like a punch in the gut.

“It is,” he says, his voice thick, and he looks down at his boots.

You're both quiet, and the tension between the two of you seems to grow. Thorn doesn't know what to say. He’s not sure if there's anything that can be said. He's not good at this sort of thing, and the last thing he wants to do is make a fool of himself.

"So we have one more night," you say, breaking the silence. Your voice is soft, and Thorn can hear the sadness in it. It makes his chest ache, and his throat tightens. "One more night before everything goes back to the way it was."

"Yes," he says, his voice barely above a whisper.

You take a deep breath, your chest rising and falling, and Thorn can't tear his eyes away. He's memorized the curve of your lips, the line of your jaw, the softness of your skin, and he's not sure if he'll ever get another chance to see it again. Not like this, at least.

You meet his gaze, and he sucks in a sharp breath, the air catching in his lungs.

"I just wanted to say that I had a lot of fun, Commander," you tell him, a smile tugging at the corner of your lips. “I'm glad the Chancellor saw fit to send you to protect me."

He feels the same, and more, and yet he can't bring himself to say the words. The fear, and the shame, is holding him back, and he hates himself for it.

"It's been my pleasure," he finally manages, the words feeling hollow. It's not enough, and yet, it's all he can give. He wants to say so much more, but the words are stuck in his throat, and he's not sure how to make them come out.

You tilt your head, looking at him with an amused smile, and you shake your head and laugh. "No, it hasn't."

Thorn stiffens, and he's not sure whether to be offended or embarrassed. It's true, he's hated this assignment from the very beginning, but that was before he got to know you. Before he saw the real you, and fell for you, and wanted nothing more than to be with you.

"Senator," he warns, and you chuckle.

"Commander, please. You can be honest with me, you know," you say lightly. "I won't mind. I can't imagine being forced to be the sole guard of an uppity senator was a very high priority for you. Especially when said senator has a habit of disappearing."

"You're not uppity," he tells you, and you snort, rolling your eyes. "You're not."

"You really are an awful liar, Commander."

"I'm not lying," he insists, and you give him a knowing look.

"So, why are you so keen to get out of here?" you ask, tilting your head. "You must be eager to get back to your usual duties. I'm sure it'll be a relief not to have to worry about me anymore."

"I'm not keen," he says, and you raise a brow. "It's just..."

He trails off, his words failing him. He's not sure how to explain what he's feeling, and the more he tries, the more frustrated he gets.

"What is it?" you prompt, and Thorn sighs, scrubbing a hand down his face.

When his hand drops, his mouth presses into a thin line, his eyes searching yours. "You want me to be honest?"

You nod.

"Fine.”

He takes a deep breath and squares his shoulders, trying to ignore the way his heart is hammering in his chest. He has no idea where the sudden surge of bravery has come from, but he's determined to ride it out, no matter what happens.

“I hated this assignment. From the very beginning. It's been a pain in my ass, and a major distraction from my duties. I've had to deal with more bullshit in the last month than I have in my entire career, and I'm more than ready for it to be over," he admits, and your lips quirk up in amusement. "And it's been even worse because of you."

Your eyebrows shoot up. "Me? What did I do?"

"Yes. You've made my life a living hell, Senator.” Thorn swallows hard, the words spilling out before he can stop them. "Because, every time I was near you, I couldn't concentrate. I couldn't stop thinking about you, and wondering if you were okay, and wishing that things were different. You drive me crazy. You've always driven me crazy."

You stare at him, your mouth agape. Thorn is breathing heavily, his heart pounding in his chest, and his ears are ringing. He can't believe he's just confessed all that, and he can't believe he actually meant it. It's like a weight has been lifted off his chest, and he feels better than he has in weeks. But, now, the fear is setting in, and his stomach is tying itself in knots.

He's said too much, and he knows it. But, it's too late to take it back now.

You're still staring at him, and Thorn can't read the expression on your face. There’s a long silence, and he wonders if you're going to say anything, or if he's just screwed everything up. The suspense is killing him, and he's tempted to put his helmet back on just to escape the awkwardness.

After a moment, you close your mouth, and you look down, your eyelashes fluttering. Thorn watches as a smile spreads across your face and your cheeks turn pink.

A warm rush of relief washes over him, one that leaves him feeling lighter than air. He doesn't know what's going through your head, but he's pretty sure it's a good thing.

"You really are full of surprises, aren't you, Commander?"

Thorn shrugs, the corners of his lips quirking up. "Only when you're involved, Senator."

Your eyes crinkle, and a soft laugh leaves your lips. You shake your head, looking up at him with a fondness that makes his heart ache. He can’t fight the urge to reach out and touch you anymore, and so he does. He cups your face, his thumb caressing your cheek, and you lean into his touch, the smile on your face growing.

"So, why are you so eager to leave? Is it because you can't stand being around me?" you tease, and Thorn laughs, the sound low and husky.

"No, I don't think that's it," he murmurs. "The problem is that I don't think I can stay away from you."

You tilt your head, the amusement on your face turning into something else, and Thorn can't tear his gaze away. You're looking at him, really looking at him, and he feels the world around him fade away.

"Then don't," you breathe, your voice barely above a whisper.

Your words hang between the two of you, and Thorn finds himself leaning in, his heart racing. You're close, and his hand is still on your cheek, and all he can think about is how much he wants to kiss you.

And, for once, he lets himself do it.

His lips brush against yours, and you gasp, your body stiffening. Thorn’s stomach clenches, a rush of panic washing over him, but before he can pull away, your hands reach up, cupping his face. 

He melts into the kiss, his free hand finding your hip, and he pulls you flush against him. You let out a soft moan as his tongue darts out to taste you, and he groans, his grip tightening as your hands grip his chest plate.

The two of you move together, the kiss turning from sweet and gentle, to heated and passionate. You taste sweet, like the dessert you'd eaten earlier, and he finds himself quickly getting lost in the way your lips move, in the feeling of your body pressed against his, in the sound of your soft gasps.

He's never felt this way before, and he never wants it to end.

You're the most incredible thing he's ever experienced, and he doesn't want to let you go.

You pull away, and Thorn can't help but chase your lips, a low whine escaping him. You laugh softly, pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth, and then you take a step back, putting some distance between the two of you. He doesn’t let you go far, his hands still gripping your waist, and he searches your face, his heart hammering.

"That was..." you trail off, a dazed look in your eyes. Your cheeks are flushed, and your lips are swollen, and you're looking at him like you're seeing him for the first time. It makes his heart race, and a smug satisfaction settles over him. He did that.

He can't stop the laughter that bubbles up from his chest. "Incredible? Amazing?" 

You roll your eyes, shoving his shoulder playfully, and his grin widens.

"Shut up."

"Yes, ma'am," he replies, his voice soft and teasing.

You give him a stern look, but there's a smile tugging at your lips, and Thorn can't resist leaning down to capture your lips with his. You hum, leaning into him, and his arms wrap around you, pulling you close.

You break the kiss, and Thorn leans his forehead against yours, his breath coming in ragged gasps.

"I think we should save the rest for later, Commander," you murmur, and Thorn's heart skips a beat. He's not sure if he heard you correctly, but the way your fingers trace the edge of his jaw is all the confirmation he needs.

"Okay," he agrees quickly, his voice hoarse, and you give him a satisfied smirk.

"Good," you hum. Your thumb moves across his mouth, wiping the lipstick from his lips, and Thorn has to resist the urge to capture your finger between his teeth.

You press one last, lingering kiss against his mouth, and then pull away, stepping out of his arms. "Now, I should get back to my quarters. We can finish this there."

Thorn blinks, his eyes wide, and his jaw drops. He's not sure what to say, and he can only stare at you in shock. You've completely caught him off guard, and the confidence and boldness you're showing is enough to make him weak in the knees.

"We can?" he stammers, and you laugh.

"I think we both know that we've been dancing around each other for weeks now," you reply. "Don't act so surprised."

He can't deny it, and he doesn't try.

"Are you sure about this, Senator?"

You give him a wicked grin, and Thorn swallows hard, his stomach tightening.

"Of course," you say lightly. "You don't think I'd let you kiss me like that and then walk away, do you? No, Commander, I want the full experience."

He blinks, and then lets out a short, surprised laugh. You're shameless, and it's one of the things he likes most about you. He doesn't know how he got so lucky, or how this is even happening, but he's not about to back down from the challenge. Not when you're looking at him like that.

"And you think you can handle that?" he murmurs, his voice dropping lower. His hand trails down your side, brushing against the curve of your waist, and you shiver, a soft sigh leaving your lips.

"Oh, Commander," you breathe. "I know I can. Can you?"

Thorn's hand cups your chin, and he leans in, his breath ghosting over your ear. "Oh, I'm sure I can handle whatever you've got, Senator."

You let out a shuddering breath, and he smiles triumphantly, feeling a thrill run down his spine.

"Well then," you purr, a mischievous gleam in your eyes. "We’d better head back. We have some...negotiations to discuss."

Thorn laughs, the sound low and rumbling, and he offers you his arm. "Do we, now?"

"We do," you confirm as you loop your arm through his. "We’ll have to see if we can't reach a mutually beneficial arrangement."

"It could take a while, Senator," he teases. "You're a very stubborn woman. We could be here all night."

You let out a laugh, and the sound fills him with happiness. He can't remember the last time he felt like this, and he's not sure if he ever has.

"Oh, I'm counting on it, Commander."

The moment the door to your apartment closes behind the two of you, Thorn finds himself pushed up against it, his back slamming against the wood, and a gasp escapes him as your lips crash against his. His helmet clatters to the floor, forgotten, and his hands come to rest on your waist, his fingers digging into the soft fabric of your robes.

It's the middle of the night, and Thorn can barely see you in the darkness, the moonlight shining through the window casting the room in a dim, silvery light. The only other source of light is the soft glow of the city outside, and he feels like he's in another world, somewhere far away from reality.

It's a nice feeling, knowing that the two of you are alone, that there's nothing keeping you apart, and Thorn doesn't waste a second.

He tears off his gloves, and his hands slide under the hem of your robes, pushing them up. Your skin is soft and warm beneath his touch, and he can feel the heat of your body as his palms skim over the bare skin of your thighs. He squeezes your hips, drawing you closer to him, and a low moan slips from your lips.

You're both desperate, the need to feel each other's skin overwhelming. Your hands are everywhere, exploring every inch of him, and Thorn's skin feels hot, like he's burning up from the inside.

"Senator," he mutters, his mouth trailing along the line of your jaw. You hum, tilting your head back, giving him access to the column of your neck, and he doesn't hesitate, his lips skimming over your skin.

"Commander," you breathe, a breathless laugh escaping you when he bites down on the spot where your neck meets your shoulder. Your fingers curl in his hair, tugging sharply, and Thorn grunts, his hips bucking forward and grinding against you.

"You know, Senator, there are a lot of things that I've been thinking about," he tells you. His mouth presses against the curve of your shoulder, his hands slipping higher to brush over the curve of your ass. "A lot of things I've wanted to do with you."

You chuckle, a breathless sound that makes his blood heat. "Oh?”

Thorn noses aside the neckline of your dress, exposing the smooth skin of your shoulder, and his mouth immediately finds your collarbone, his tongue sweeping across it. "Mhm. I have a very active imagination, you know."

Your hips roll against his, and Thorn hisses, his grip tightening. Your lips brush against his ear, your breath hot against his skin.

"Do tell, Commander," you whisper. "I want to hear all about it."

"All of it?" he asks, and you hum, nipping at his earlobe. His skin prickles, and he feels the shiver run down his spine.

"Every single thing."

"Well, first, I've thought a lot about what you'd feel like," he starts. His hand moves to your front, pushing the fabric aside until his fingers brush against the bare skin of your abdomen, and you inhale sharply, the muscles flexing under his touch. "What you'd sound like, when I touched you."

He moves his hand lower, his fingertips trailing along the edge of your panties. You bite your lip, and he pauses, searching your face. You're flushed, and your eyes are hooded, and Thorn swallows, his blood heating.

"Is that all?" you ask, and he chuckles, shaking his head.

"I’m glad you asked, Senator," he says, his fingers sliding over the fabric of your underwear. You gasp, your hips bucking forward, grinding into his hand. He can feel how wet you are, and he bites back a groan. "Because I've had quite a few ideas lately."

"Oh, really?" you ask, your voice low. "Tell me, Commander, what else have you been thinking about?"

Thorn grins, and then, without warning, his hand slips into your underwear, his fingers sliding between your folds. You cry out, your body going tense, and Thorn's other hand wraps around your waist, holding you steady. He works his fingers slowly, his touch gentle and teasing, and your head falls back, your eyes fluttering shut.

"I've thought a lot about how you'd look, sitting on my face, with my tongue buried inside you," he whispers, his mouth moving along the curve of your jaw. Your breath hitches, and he bites back a smirk, his fingers continuing their slow exploration. “Or how you'd look on your knees, looking up at me with those pretty eyes of yours, begging for more."

You let out a low whine, and he can feel your thighs quivering, your hips rolling into his hand.

"I've thought about bending you over my desk, or pressing you against the window. Maybe even spreading you out on my bed, keeping you there until I'm satisfied."

You whimper, your hands coming up to grip his shoulders. His fingers rub tight circles around your clit, and you grind against him, a soft moan escaping you. You're soaking wet, dripping onto his hand, and the feel of it makes his cock throb.

"You have a filthy mind, Commander," you tease, and he grins, his nose nuzzling the spot behind your ear.

"I told you, I'm very creative," he says lightly. "And there's nothing I can't accomplish, if I put my mind to it."

"You are very dedicated, I'll give you that," you mumble, a soft moan escaping you when he finally pushes a finger inside of you. You're so wet that he has no trouble slipping another in, and your hips rock, a shuddering gasp escaping you. "Fuck."

He searches for that spot deep inside of you, his fingers curling, his eyes fixed on your face. He's watching you carefully, gauging your reactions, and when you let out a sharp cry, he knows he's found it. Thorn grins, his thumb pressing down on your clit, and your whole body stiffens, a breathless moan falling from your lips.

His free hand moves up to cup your chin, his thumb brushing against the seam of your lips. You open for him, and his thumb slips into your mouth, stroking the velvety heat of your tongue. A groan rumbles through his chest as you suck on his finger, your eyes locking with his.

"Do you like this, Senator?" he murmurs, his breath fanning across the skin of your neck, and you nod, a muffled whimper escaping you.

"Mhm," you groan, the word turning into a sharp gasp when he crooks his fingers again, his pace quickening.

He presses a kiss to the underside of your jaw, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear.

"I'm going to fuck you so good," he growls. "Gonna make you feel so fucking good."

You whimper, and Thorn bites back a smirk, his hand gripping your chin, forcing your head up. Your eyes meet his, and he can see the desire burning in them, the way your pupils are blown wide with lust. His other hand speeds up, his thumb circling your clit, and your hips start to rock, matching his movements.

"You've been driving me crazy for months. But you knew that, didn't you?"

"I have," you admit, a breathless laugh escaping you. The sound turns into a soft moan as he thrusts his fingers deeper, and Thorn's hand tightens, his eyes never leaving yours.

"It was very cruel of you, Senator. Do you know how hard it was to stay focused when you kept making me blush? And all those little comments," he mutters, and your eyes flash with mischief, a grin tugging at the corners of your lips. "You knew what you were doing, didn't you?"

You bite down on his thumb, and his eyes widen, a low groan leaving him. "I had a feeling."

He lets out a low, rumbling laugh. "So you've been trying to drive me crazy on purpose?"

"Yes, and it worked, didn't it?" you ask, and he grins, cupping the back of your head, his fingers tangling in your hair. You gasp, a shudder running through you, and he tugs on it, pulling your head back until his lips can brush against the shell of your ear.

"You have no idea," he breathes. "You have no fucking idea."

He pushes you backwards, and your back hits the wall with a soft thud. Thorn drops to his knees, his fingers still pumping into you, and he shoves your skirts aside so he can get a better look. He's rewarded with the sight of your slick-covered thighs, your soaked underwear stretched over his knuckles and he lets out a low groan.

"You're so fucking beautiful," he breathes. His fingers slip out of you and slide over the damp fabric of your panties, and his thumb strokes over the swollen bundle of nerves, teasing you. "And so fucking wet. Look at how wet you are for me."

You let out a soft whimper and nod, your hands gripping the hem of your skirts. Thorn's eyes flicker to yours, and then he leans in, pressing his mouth against the fabric, his tongue swiping over it. You cry out, your knees buckling, and Thorn's hands grip your thighs, keeping you upright.

He sucks at the fabric, and the taste of you explodes on his tongue. You're sweet and tart and perfect, and he can't get enough. He can feel your clit throbbing beneath the fabric, and he moans, his tongue licking a hot, wet trail over it.

"So good," he whispers. "So fucking good."

He pulls back to tear your underwear down your legs, and then he quickly shoves his fingers back inside of you. His free hand grabs hold of your leg, lifting it up and draping it over his shoulder. You're spread open in front of him, and Thorn licks his lips, his eyes hungrily taking in the sight of you.

You're a vision. Your skin is flushed, your hair mussed, and your eyes are glazed over, half-lidded with pleasure. Your breasts heave, and the soft sounds of pleasure spilling from your lips fill his ears, the only other sound in the room the wet slap of his hand as it works inside you. 

"I'm not gonna stop until you come on my face," he murmurs, and you moan, your hands tangling in his hair, tugging on it sharply.

"Then what are you waiting for, Commander?" you taunt breathlessly. 

His lips quirk, his eyes darkening.

"I guess I'm just waiting for you to beg."

"Don't hold your breath," you shoot back. Thorn chuckles and shakes his head.

"That's alright," he says. "We've got all night."

You glare down at him, and he meets your gaze, his lips curling into a smirk. He leans in, his nose nuzzling the crease of your thigh, and then his mouth closes over your clit, his tongue flicking over the sensitive bud. Your body stiffens, and a loud cry escapes you, your foot digging into his back as your hands fist in his hair.

He's not gentle. There's nothing tender about the way his tongue is licking at the seam of your pussy, or the way his fingers are pistoning into you, or the way his teeth are scraping over the sensitive flesh.

He doesn't want to be gentle.

He wants to make sure that the next time you see him, every single time you look at him, you're reminded of how good it felt to have his mouth on you. You're going to remember the way he made you fall apart, and the feeling of his hands on you.

You're going to be ruined, and Thorn is going to make sure that no one else is ever going to be able to measure up.

"Fuck," you choke out, your voice raw, your chest heaving. He can't help but grin, his teeth nipping at the soft flesh, and you let out a sharp gasp. "Don't stop, don't you dare fucking stop."

"Come on, Senator," he growls, his fingers speeding up. He feels your cunt clench around him, and he groans, his eyes fluttering shut. “Come on my face. Show me how good I'm making you feel."

Your breath comes out in harsh pants, and he can tell that you're getting close. Your muscles are tensing, and your hips are jerking, and Thorn doubles his efforts, his mouth sucking hard on your clit.

"Ah, Commander!"

Your hips buck against his face, and your hands grip his hair, holding him in place. Your entire body tenses, your thighs quivering, and then, with a sharp cry, you come undone. 

Thorn lets out a strangled laugh as you writhe and shudder above him. Your walls flutter around his fingers, and he can feel your release dripping down his wrist, coating his knuckles. He laps it up, his tongue dipping between your folds, and he can't help the way his hips grind into the floor, desperate for some friction.

He doesn't stop, even as you whimper and your body starts to tremble. He keeps going, his tongue working against your clit furiously. He can't get enough of the way you taste, and he doesn't want to stop. He could do this forever, he thinks. Just bury his face between your thighs and eat you out for hours, making you come over and over again.

You let out a sob, your body going taut as he pushes a third finger into you, stretching you open. He thrusts into you, his mouth working relentlessly, his teeth scraping over your clit. Your hips rock into him, grinding against his face, and Thorn grunts, his eyes locked on yours.

"Oh, oh, oh," you gasp, your voice strained. "Fucking hell, Thorn!

The sound of his name falling from your lips is enough to make him groan. He pulls his fingers out, and then immediately thrusts them back in, his mouth latching onto your clit. Your entire body shudders, and then you're coming again, a hoarse scream tearing from your throat.

He hums at the sound, a smug smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. He didn’t expect you to be so vocal, and he can’t help but wonder if anyone can hear you. If the guards on duty can hear the way you're crying out for him, the way you're screaming his name.

He hopes they can. He hopes the entire damn city can.

"That's it, Senator," Thorn coos, his tongue gently lapping at the mess between your legs. You whimper, your hands pushing his face away, and he lets out a rumbling laugh, his nose skimming the inside of your thigh.

He presses one last kiss to the apex of your thighs before he sits back, admiring his work. Your skirts are rumpled and pushed up to your hips, exposing the smooth expanse of your trembling thighs, and you're gasping for air, your chest heaving. You look absolutely debauched, and the sight makes his blood heat.

Thorn grins, licking his lips, and he watches as your eyes lock onto the movement. “Did that live up to expectations, Senator?"

"Not bad, Commander," you pant. "I'm impressed."

"I told you, I always get the job done."

You laugh, the sound turning into a low moan when he removes his fingers from you, a thin line of slick connecting them to your cunt.

"I guess you did.”

He smirks, bringing his fingers to his lips and sucking them clean. His tongue slides between the digits, and he sees your eyes darken, a breathless laugh escaping you.

"Are you satisfied, Senator?" he asks, his voice dropping, and your eyes glint, a smirk tugging at the corners of your lips.

"For now," you murmur.

He lets out a rumbling laugh, leaning in and pressing a kiss to the inside of your thigh.

"Good. Now it's my turn,” he says, his nose skimming the line of your leg. He sees the way your cunt clenches, the way the muscles of your abdomen flex, and his smile widens. He wants to bury his face between your thighs again, but he has other plans.

"What did you have in mind, Commander?" you ask, your voice heavy with desire, and he gives  noncommittal shrug, his hands sliding down the length of your legs, cupping the back of your knees.

“I’ll show you.”

 Without waiting for a response, Thorn wraps his arms around your thighs, picking you up and throwing you over his shoulder. You yelp, your hands gripping the edge of his breastplate, and he laughs. His hand slides under the hem of your skirt, his fingertips brushing against the curve of your ass, and he hums, giving it a firm squeeze.

"Commander!" you cry out as he slaps your ass, the sound echoing through the room. You let out a surprised squeak, and Thorn smirks, his palm smoothing over the stinging flesh.

"Senator, I can assure you that this is in the best interests of everyone," he says lightly, and you snort, slapping him gently upside the head. He chuckles, giving you another quick swat. He doesn’t miss the way your hips buck, the soft whine that falls from your lips.

"In the best interest of who?"

"You, for one. And me. And any poor souls that have the misfortune of having to deal with us," he tells you as he walks. “We're going to spend the rest of the night working things out, Senator. The sooner we reach a conclusion, the sooner everyone will be happy."

"Well, when you put it like that, how can I refuse?"

"I knew you'd see it my way," he replies, his hands skimming over the curve of your ass, and then, without warning, his fingers dig into the backs of your thighs, and he lifts you, swinging you around.

You shriek, laughing and swatting at his armor, and he can't stop the smile that spreads across his face as he adjusts you, wrapping your legs around his waist. You're warm and pliant in his arms, and the feeling of your arms looping around his neck sends a shiver down his spine.

You look up at him, and his breath catches at the sight of the warmth in your eyes. He's never seen you like this, and he's definitely not used to seeing you this vulnerable. He can't help but be amazed at the trust you've put in him. It's a powerful feeling, knowing that someone like you, someone who could have anyone they wanted, is willing to let their guard down with him.

It's not a feeling he's particularly familiar with, but it's one he wants to get used to. He's tired of pretending, and he's tired of being afraid. He wants to know what it's like to be close to someone, and to be wanted, and he's never been more certain that you're the person he wants to experience that with.

He's spent months chasing you, and now, finally, he's caught you.

He can't imagine a better feeling.

Thorn carries you through the darkened apartment, his hands gripping your thighs, and you press kisses along his neck and jaw. Your lips are soft and warm, and he lets out a contented sigh, his eyes fluttering shut.

He’s memorized the layout of the apartment, and he doesn’t need the lights to know where he's going. He can find his way to your bedroom in his sleep, and he's not surprised when his foot nudges open the door.

The curtains are open, and the moonlight spills through the window, bathing the room in a soft, silvery glow. He’s sure the view of the gardens would be beautiful, if he bothered to look. Right now, though, all he can focus on is the woman in his arms.

His gaze falls on the bed, and he feels a thrill of anticipation run through him. It's huge, bigger than any bed he's ever slept in, and covered in plush pillows and thick blankets. Thorn lets out a rumbling laugh, and then, without a word, he tosses you onto the mattress.

You bounce slightly, a soft squeak escaping you, and he takes a moment to admire the way your hair fans out beneath you, your robes slipping off your shoulder. You're gorgeous, and the sight of you lying in the middle of the bed, spread out for him, is almost too much for him.

You prop yourself up on your elbows, your eyes locking with his. "So what did you have in mind, Commander?"

"Strip," he orders, his hands coming to rest on the fastenings of his belt. "I want to see all of you."

You don't move, and he raises a brow, tilting his head.

"Unless you'd rather I tear those pretty robes off of you," he says, and something flashes across your face, your eyes darkening. "Which, honestly, I'm perfectly fine with. It's been a long day, and I'm not feeling very patient."

"You're awfully demanding, Commander," you murmur, and his lips quirk, his gaze fixed on yours. He drops his belt to the floor, his kama coming along with it, and his chestplate follows, his pauldrons and vambraces soon joining the pile.

"And you're not listening," he replies lightly, his voice dangerously low, and he watches as your eyes widen, your cheeks flushing. "Maybe I should show you just how serious I am, Senator."

"As much as I love the idea of you tearing my clothes off," you say softly, pushing yourself up and sitting on the edge of the bed, "I do quite like this dress. It's new."

"I like it too," he admits, his gaze following the curve of your neck, the dip of your collarbone.

You chuckle, rising to your feet. "Good."

His eyes lock with yours, and Thorn swallows thickly, his throat suddenly feeling tight. He watches as you step forward, your hands moving to the fastenings of your dress, and his breath catches in his throat, his heart hammering in his chest. His fingers slip over his codpiece, his eyes following the movement of your hands. By the time he’s managed to unfasten the plates, he sees the top of your dress sliding off your shoulders, the fabric pooling at your feet.

"Oh, fuck," he breathes. He can't help but stare, his eyes roaming over every inch of exposed skin, and you let out a soft laugh, stepping out of the fabric, leaving you completely bare.

"What?" you ask, and Thorn doesn't respond, his mouth suddenly too dry.

"Maker," he mutters, and your smile widens.

"Like what you see, Commander?"

"You have no idea," he growls, his hands suddenly moving as fast as lightning, his armor dropping to the floor.

He's desperate, his body aching with need, and it doesn't take him long to shed his armor. The plates drop to the floor with a series of loud clanks, and Thorn doesn't bother looking down, his eyes locked on yours.

By the time he's pulled off his briefs, you've unhooked your bra and tossed it aside, and Thorn has to stop himself from lunging at you. His cock is throbbing, painfully hard, and the sight of your bare chest makes him feel lightheaded.

He moves quickly, his hands finding your waist, and he lifts you, your legs automatically wrapping around him, your hands cupping his face. You feel incredible, the soft skin of your body pressed against him, and for the first time, there's no armor, no titles, nothing separating the two of you.

And when your lips brush against his, the kiss is softer than anything he's experienced before. He sighs into the kiss, his arms tightening around you, and he feels your legs squeezing around his waist, a soft whimper falling from your lips.

"Senator," he breathes as you part, his nose brushing against yours, and you lean in, your forehead resting against his.

"I don't think we need those titles anymore," you whisper, and he nods, a small laugh escaping him.

"Yeah. Okay."

You lean in, and his lips meet yours once more. This time, the kiss is more urgent, and his hand slides to the nape of your neck, holding you in place as he kisses you, his tongue slipping between your lips. You taste like mint and spice, and the feeling of your mouth against his sends a shock of pleasure down his spine.

Your hands slide down his neck, his shoulders, his chest, and Thorn groans, his muscles tensing under your touch. You hum, nipping at his bottom lip, and then your hand slides lower, wrapping around his length, and Thorn's head drops back, a shuddering moan falling from his lips.

"Fuck, sweetheart," he chokes out, and you grin, your thumb rubbing against the head of his cock. "That's—"

You squeeze, and his hips buck, a sharp cry falling from his lips. His knees threaten to give out, and Thorn grunts, his body shaking.

"So big," you murmur, and a strangled laugh spills from his mouth, his eyes rolling back.

"Don't worry, sweetheart," he manages to croak. "I'll go easy on you."

You scoff, rolling your eyes, and Thorn grins.

"I'm kidding," he murmurs, and then, without warning, he pushes forward, pressing you into the mattress. Your back hits the soft covers, and Thorn climbs over you, his weight resting on his elbows. 

Your hair fans out beneath you, the moonlight bathing the sheets, and he takes a moment to admire you again before he leans down, his lips trailing over your neck.

"Fuck, I could get used to this," he mumbles against your skin. Your hands tangle in his hair, and you arch beneath him, a soft moan escaping you.

"Yeah?"

"Mmhm," he hums, kissing along the curve of your shoulder, his hand coming up to cup your breast, his thumb flicking over your nipple. 

Your gasp turns into a whimper as he sucks a mark into the skin, and he can't help the swell of pride he feels, his gaze drifting to the mark. It’s a deep purple, stark against your skin, and Thorn finds himself smirking. You’ll have no trouble hiding it underneath your robes, but every time you move, every time you touch it, or when you catch a glimpse of it in the mirror, you're going to remember the way his mouth felt on you.

"You look good like this," he says, his voice thick with arousal, his hand drifting lower, and your eyes flutter shut, a soft moan escaping you.

"On the bed, or marked by you?"

"Both," he says with a chuckle. Thorn feels his heart skip a beat, his cock twitching. The image of you, splayed out on the bed, covered in his marks, is a very appealing one. “I could do this for days. Cover every inch of your body."

"Maybe next time," you tell him, and he raises a brow, his lips trailing over the valley of your breasts.

"Next time?"

"Unless you're opposed to it, Commander."

"I am not," he growls, his fingers brushing over the seam of your cunt. "Definitely not opposed to that."

You shiver, your thighs parting, and Thorn lets out soft breath, his gaze drifting to the apex of your thighs. He can't believe he's actually here, that you're letting him touch you. It's been months since the first time he saw you, and while he's imagined this moment more times than he'd care to admit, none of his fantasies can compare to the real thing.

"I'm glad we're on the same page, then," you say lightly, and Thorn can't help but chuckle, his fingers dipping between your folds.

"Senator, I'm not sure if I've made myself clear," he starts, his fingertips sliding through the slick dripping down your pussy. You let out a strangled moan as he spreads it along the swollen lips, his thumb teasing the throbbing bud of nerves. 

"But I am very interested in there being a next time. And the time after that. And the time after that. As many times as you want. In fact, I'm willing to work on a very generous schedule, and I'm open to negotiation. But only with you. So please, Senator," he says, his thumb pressing against your clit. Your back arches off the bed, a strangled moan falling from your lips, and he grins. "Be reasonable."

Your eyes flash, a breathless laugh spilling from your lips. "I'll have to take it under advisement. You've made a very compelling case, Commander."

"Oh, that was just the opening argument. Now," he continues, his fingers circling your clit, his other hand reaching between the two of you and grabbing his cock. His eyes lock with yours as he rubs the head against your dripping slit, and a whimper spills from your lips.

"Let's see how the rest of the debate goes."

Your response is a gasp, a sharp moan escaping you when the head of his cock dips into your entrance. Your hips rock forward, taking more of him in, and Thorn bites back a groan, his fingers tightening on his cock.

He wants to take his time, wants to tease you, wants to push you right to the edge and make you beg for it.

But he can't. Not tonight.

The thought of being inside you, the heat of your body surrounding him, is too much. He needs to know what it feels like, needs to feel you around him.

And judging from the look on your face, the way your eyes are fixed on the space where the two of you are connected, you need it just as much as he does.

Thorn doesn't waste any more time.

With a slow, steady push, he slides inside of you, his head dropping forward, a choked groan escaping him. You're so fucking warm and wet and perfect, and it takes everything in him not to slam his hips into yours. He wants to, he really fucking does, but he's also trying to be careful.

He hears you whimper, and his gaze moves to your face, his brow furrowing when he sees the wince.

"Oh," he says softly, and his hand moves to the curve of your hip, his thumb stroking the soft skin. "You're so fucking tight, sweetheart. Is this okay?"

"Yeah," you mumble, a breathless laugh escaping you. You're flushed, a sheen of sweat covering your skin, and Thorn doesn't move, doesn't push in further. He waits, his hand caressing your hip, his eyes searching your face. "I'm just not used to..."

"Big?" he supplies with a smirk, and you roll your eyes, a huff escaping you.

"No. Well, yes. But it's been a while."

“Ah," he hums, and then he leans in, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear. "Do you want me to be gentle?"

"No," you say, shaking your head.

His brow furrows, his head tilting to the side. "No?"

"I want you to fuck me, Thorn," you murmur, and his throat bobs. He feels the way your cunt clenches around him, the way your body tenses, and a strangled groan leaves him. "Please."

It's the please that does it.

It's the way the word falls from your lips so softly, so desperately, that has him snapping his hips forward. A choked moan spills from his lips as he pushes deeper, and he can't stop himself, his entire body trembling with the effort of holding himself back.

You're so warm and tight, and it's all he can do to keep still, his breath coming in short, ragged gasps. He can feel your body adjusting to his size, can feel your muscles clenching around him, and he grits his teeth, his nails digging into the soft skin of your thigh as he hitches it around his waist.

"Fucking hell," he breathes, and he feels you squeeze around him, your back arching.

"Maker, you're big," you mumble, and Thorn's lips curl into a smirk, his hand moving to cup the back of your knee. 

"Told you.”

You roll your eyes, and he chuckles, kissing along the line of your jaw as he pushes your leg up higher.

"Just relax," he whispers against the column of your throat. "You can take it."

He hears a muffled noise come from your throat, and then suddenly he's buried inside of you.

You both groan, the sound filling the room, and Thorn's hand tightens, his hips grinding against yours. He keeps the pace slow and steady, not wanting to overwhelm you, but soon, you're pushing back against him, a soft whimper falling from your lips.

The noise sends a shiver down his spine, and he can't stop himself. He starts to move faster, pulling out farther, his mouth hot on your throat.

"Look at you, taking me so well," he purrs, and he sees the way your body reacts, the way your legs wrap around his waist, urging him deeper. "Like you were made for me."

Your hand grips the nape of his neck, and a sharp hiss escapes him as your nails bite into his skin. His hips snap forward, the head of his cock rubbing against the spot deep inside of you, and you let out a low cry, a strangled sob escaping you.

He watches, enraptured, as the last of the tension melts away, and then you're wrapping yourself around him, your nails digging into his shoulders, your legs tightening around his waist, and he loses himself.

You're so tight, so warm, so perfect, and Thorn can't believe it's taken him this long to get his hands on you. The feeling of you squeezing around him, the sounds spilling from your lips, are more than enough to drive him crazy, but there's something about the way you're looking at him that makes him ache. There's so much warmth and trust in your eyes and he can't help but think that it's for him. Just him.

"Fuck," he breathes, and his hips start to rock faster, harder, his lips crashing into yours. "You feel so fucking good, sweetheart."

He's always prided himself on his self control, on his ability to stay calm and rational, but you're turning everything upside down. All he can think about is you, all he wants is you. He doesn't want to stop, doesn't want to slow down, doesn't want to be anywhere else.

"Fuck, Thorn, yes, yes, yes, yes," you chant with each thrust. His hips speed up, the sound of skin slapping against skin filling the room, and his fingers dig into your hips, the mattress squeaking beneath the two of you. Your eyes are closed, your head thrown back, and Thorn can't stop staring at you.

He's close. So close.

"Say my name again," he growls, his tongue tracing a path along the line of your throat.

"Thorn," you moan, and he feels his heart clench, his lips curling.

He's never heard anything sweeter.

Your arms wrap around his shoulders, your hands gripping his hair, and he buries his face in the crook of your neck, his mouth latching onto the soft skin.

"Are you gonna come for me, sweetheart?" he breathes, and your legs tighten around his waist, a loud cry escaping you. "I want to hear you scream my name. Come for me, let me hear how good I'm making you feel."

A sharp cry falls from your lips, and Thorn's pace falters. He's so close, so fucking close, and he's desperate to hear you say his name. It's all he can think about, all he wants to hear.

"You're not going to let me hear the end of this, are you?" you mumble with a breathless laugh. Your lips curl into a smirk, and Thorn laughs too.

"Not a chance."

He kisses you again, and then his hands slide down the length of your thighs, gripping your knees and pushing them apart. His hips snap forward, his cock bottoming out inside of you. You let out a surprised squeak, and then he's pulling out almost all the way before slamming back into you.

“Oh, fuck, Thorn!" you scream, and his lips curl into a smug grin, his chest puffing up with pride.

He's never been one to gloat, but right now, he can't help it. He's not just satisfied.

He's fucking elated.

"That's what I wanted to hear," he growls, his voice thick with lust, and then he's pushing in deep once more. His hand drops between the two of you, his fingers finding your clit. Your back arches under his touch, and your hands moving to grip his biceps, your nails digging into the taut muscle. He lets out a low groan, his hips speeding up, and his gaze travels down your body, his eyes fixing on the spot where the two of you are connected.

He's not sure what it is about it, but the sight of his cock buried inside you, the way the head of his cock is sliding in and out of your body, is pushing him closer and closer to the edge. He doesn't want to come first, but seeing you stretched open, seeing how deep he's able to go, is making it hard to hold back.

He wants to feel it. Wants to see your body tightening around him, wants to see you come undone.

And when he rubs his thumb against your clit, his other hand moving to your breast and his mouth latching onto the column of your throat, you give him exactly what he wants.

"Fuck, Thorn!"

The words spill from your lips as you come, and Thorn groans, forcing himself to keep his eyes open. Your cunt is squeezing around him, and it's too much. He can’t move, can barely breathe, can barely think.

He manages to hold out for a few seconds, his eyes flickering between the place where the two of you are connected, your release spilling around his cock, and your face, your eyes wide, your lips parted.

Then, with a sharp cry, he falls over the edge, and everything goes white as he spills inside you. He hears you gasp, feels your arms wrap around him, and his own arms come up to wrap around your waist. His head drops down, his forehead pressing against the skin of your neck, and he moans, his hips jerking forward as the last of his release spurts from his cock.

It's intense.

His mind is spinning, his head swimming. His whole body is tingling, and his breath is coming in short, ragged pants.

He doesn't know how long he stays there, buried inside you, his breathing slowly returning to normal, but eventually, he manages to push himself up onto his elbows, his eyes locking with yours.

"Hi," you say, and Thorn smiles, leaning down and pressing a quick kiss to the tip of your nose.

"Hi," he mumbles, and then his gaze drifts to the mess he's made, and his cheeks burn. "Sorry about that. I should have asked. Or pulled out. I wasn't thinking."

"Don't apologize," you tell him, your hand cupping his cheek. "I wasn't either. And I didn't expect you to. It's fine."

"Okay," he says, and then he smiles, his gaze drifting over your face, the flush on your cheeks, the way your hair is fanned out beneath you. "Are you okay? Are you sore?"

"Not too bad," you say with a soft smile. Thorn can't help but grin wider, leaning down and pressing a kiss to the curve of your neck.

"Good," he hums, and then he pulls out of you, his cock falling limply against his thigh. He's still half hard, and he can feel his pulse pounding, his skin heating up, the urge to sink into you again already starting to rise. His hips rock forward, his cock dragging through the mess he's made, and he bites back a groan.

"Do you need anything?" Thorn asks as his thumb strokes the smooth skin of your stomach, his gaze fixed on yours. "A glass of water? A bath? Food? Anything?"

"I'm fine, Thorn," you assure him, and he smiles, leaning down and kissing you again.

"Are you sure?"

"I'm sure," you say, laughing softly. “How about you?"

"I'm perfect," he replies. It’s true. He can't remember the last time he's felt this good. His body is loose and relaxed, his mind blissfully empty. He doesn't think he's ever been this happy.

"Perfect?" you echo with a laugh. "You seem awfully sure of yourself."

"Well, I just fucked the hottest, most brilliant, and definitely the sexiest senator in the entire galaxy," he says, his hands skimming up your sides, his fingers tracing patterns over the swell of your breasts. "So yeah. I'm pretty sure I'm perfect."

"Smooth," you tell him. "That was smooth. How did I not notice that before?"

"I guess you've just never paid attention," he says lightly, and you chuckle, shaking your head.

"Oh, I was paying attention," you murmur, and Thorn grins, his gaze locked on yours. The words send a shiver down his spine, and he leans down, pressing a soft kiss to your lips. He feels the way you melt against him, and his cock twitches, the muscles of his abdomen flexing.

He can't believe how easy this is. He's never imagined it would be like this, not with you. He's spent months thinking about it, dreaming about what it would be like, wondering what you'd say, what you'd do. He's thought about everything. But he's never imagined that it would be this effortless. That the two of you would click this quickly. That it would feel this natural.

But then again, the two of you have been dancing around each other for a long time, and maybe it shouldn't be surprising. Maybe this is how it's supposed to be.

Thorn dips his head, his lips trailing down your jaw, his tongue darting out and tracing a path down the line of your throat. He hears you sigh, and his lips curl into a smirk, his teeth scraping against the smooth skin.

“Are you tired?” he asks as he presses a soft kiss to the hollow of your throat.

"No," you reply with a soft chuckle. “You?”

“Not even a little bit," he murmurs. Your hand reaches out, stroking the side of his face, and he turns his head, pressing a kiss to your palm.

You grin, and Thorn feels his heart flutter.

"Good," you say, and then he's being rolled over. You straddle his lap, a mischievous look on your face as your eyes lock with his. Thorn's breath catches in his throat. "Now, Commander, I believe you mentioned having an open schedule? I was hoping we could discuss the terms of my proposal."

His lips curl into a grin. "I'm listening."

Thorn isn’t really a fan of parties.

They tend to be loud, and crowded, and full of people who have nothing better to do than get drunk and gossip.

He's not much of a drinker, and his social life consists mostly of spending time with the other Commanders. And while he has no problem talking to strangers, he finds the political aspect of these kinds of gatherings tedious, and the constant stream of politicians makes him a bit uncomfortable. He’s wearing his dress uniform, which is tight and stuffy, and his boots are polished to a mirror finish, and the idea of having to spend the rest of the night standing around, making small talk with people he doesn't really care about is the last thing he wants to do.

But, for you, he's willing to make an exception.

"Senator," he greets you with a nod, his hands clasped behind his back. You come to a stop in front of him and offer him a warm smile, inclining your head.

"Commander."

"You look lovely," he murmurs, and he doesn't miss the way your cheeks turn pink.

"Thank you," you say, your lips curling into a smirk. "So do you."

He chuckles, his eyes still roaming over your body.

The dress you're wearing is beautiful. It's a deep red, the fabric shimmering in the light, and he knows that the color matches his armor perfectly. It hugs your figure in all the right places, the neckline dipping down to reveal the smooth skin of your chest, and he can't help but imagine how good the fabric will look pooled on the floor.

He's not even trying to be subtle anymore.

He's not ashamed.

The two of you have spent the past three months getting to know each other. You've gone out for drinks, spent hours in your office and his, and nights holed up in your apartment. You've gone to dinner, taken walks through the gardens, and watched countless holofilms.

He's met your friends, introduced you to the other Commanders, and he's had more sex in the past three months than he's had in the entirety of his life.

He's happier than he's ever been, and he doesn't care who knows it.

"I hope you've been enjoying yourself," you say, and Thorn smirks, unable to tear his eyes away from the exposed skin.

"Well, Senator, I've been having a wonderful time," he murmurs, and he sees your eyes darken as his gaze flicks back up, a shiver running through you. "And it just keeps getting better and better."

"Commander," you say softly, a smile curling at the corner of your mouth. "This is a public event. We're supposed to be acting like professionals. And here you are, being so inappropriate."

"Ah, Senator," he says with a grin, leaning down and pressing a kiss to the back of your hand. "There's nothing professional about the way I want to bend you over the nearest flat surface and fuck you senseless."

Your cheeks flush as you freeze, your lips parting, and Thorn’s smirk widens against your hand.

He's come to realize that, as much as you enjoy the flirting and teasing, the part that gets you going the most is when he's bold. When he's not afraid to tell you what he wants, not afraid to take what he wants. When he tells you how badly he needs to taste you, when he shows you just how much he craves you, the effect it has on you is immediate, and it's something he's grown very fond of.

You're usually so collected, so poised. The idea that he can make you melt like this, can break through the polished exterior and see the woman underneath, the woman that only he gets to see, is a heady feeling.

And Thorn can't get enough.

"Careful, Commander," you chide him, but there's no heat behind it. 

You both know the rules. As much as the two of you may enjoy pushing the limits, neither of you are willing to compromise your professionalism, and neither of you are willing to put the other at risk. You have a reputation to uphold, and while it's not exactly illegal for the two of you to be together, it would be frowned upon, and it would be easy for the press to twist the story and create a scandal.

So the rules are simple.

When it's business, it's business. You're Senator, he's Commander, and you keep the lines drawn. You don't touch, don't flirt, don't do anything that would raise eyebrows or make people suspicious. The only people who know about the two of you are your friends and the other Commanders, and Thorn is confident that they can keep their mouths shut. Even if Fox had nearly passed out from shock when he'd found out.

As soon as the work is done, though, all bets are off. As soon as the two of you are alone, he doesn't hold back. And neither do you.

And, after three months, the lines have become blurred. The distinction between personal and professional is starting to fade. It's becoming more and more difficult to keep things strictly business. But the two of you manage.

For now.

"Senator," he says with a smirk. "I'm always careful."

Your gaze travels over him, a small smile curling at the corners of your lips, and Thorn feels a thrill run through him. There's a spark in your eyes, a heat that's simmering beneath the surface. He knows what you're thinking, and he can't blame you.

The two of you are alone. Well, as alone as you can be, considering there are hundreds of people milling around. But no one is paying attention, and Thorn can't resist the urge.

His hand turns to lace his fingers with yours, his grip firm. He doesn't move, doesn't take his eyes off you. He sees your cheeks flush, and your eyes widen.

"Senator," he says softly. You glance around, your gaze shifting from side to side. There's no one close enough to notice, and your lips curl into a smile, your fingers squeezing his.

"Commander," you reply. He squeezes your hand back, his eyes roaming over your face.

"Have I told you how beautiful you look tonight?"

Your blush deepens, your eyes darting down, and you laugh. "You have, actually." 

He hums, a low sound that rumbles in the back of his throat. His thumb strokes over the back of your hand, his gaze moving over the room. No one's looking, no one's paying attention. He doesn't have to worry about the others finding out.

"And have I mentioned how much I love the way you look in red?"

"Only a few times," you say with a grin. His lips twitch into a smile, and he steps forward, tightening his grip.

"Well, I do."

You laugh, and he feels a rush of affection surge through him. He's always loved the way you laugh, the way your whole face lights up. You have a great sense of humor, and Thorn finds himself laughing more and more, a result of your wit, and his growing fondness for you.

It's not just the sex.

Although the sex is definitely a huge part of it.

He loves talking to you, loves spending time with you. Loves seeing the way your face lights up when he walks in, the way you look at him when he kisses you, the way your eyes narrow when you're working. He loves the way you tease him, the way you push his buttons. The way you challenge him. The way you make him laugh.

He doesn't know how he's managed to find someone who makes him feel like this. But he's not about to complain. There isn’t a day that goes by where he isn’t grateful for the chance that brought the two of you together, and for the fact that he got his head out of his ass long enough to pursue it.

He doesn't think he's ever been this happy. And he can't imagine that feeling fading anytime soon.

"Thorn," you say softly, and his eyes lock with yours. "It's been three months. How are you still making me feel like this?"

He chuckles, a wry smile curling at the corner of his mouth. "I could ask the same thing about you."

"Yeah?" you ask.

"Yeah," he says with a nod. He glances around the room once more before he leans in and presses a soft kiss to the top of your head. He sees you freeze, your eyes going wide, and his lips curl into a smile. 

"You know," he whispers, his breath brushing against the shell of your ear, "there are quite a few empty rooms in this building."

You shiver, your teeth catching your bottom lip, and he chuckles. "And what are you proposing, Commander?"

His grip tightens on your hand, and he feels your fingers dig into his palm. His lips brush against the skin behind your ear, and a soft whimper leaves your mouth.

"A very thorough and detailed demonstration of just how much I appreciate that color on you," he murmurs. He takes a moment to admire the blush coloring your cheeks. "If you're interested."

"Oh, I am," you say, your voice trembling slightly. Your eyes flick down to his mouth, and then back up to meet his. "Are you sure you're willing to risk it?"

"Sweetheart," he murmurs, a smile curving his lips, and then he lets go of your hand, his palm brushing down the length of your arm. "I'm always willing to risk it for you."

Your eyes narrow, a wicked smirk twisting at the corner of your mouth, and you turn and look over your shoulder. Thorn raises an eyebrow.

"Then you won’t mind dancing with me first," you say lightly.

Thorn freezes. His heart stutters. His eyes snap open.

"What?"

"Dancing," you say simply. "It's a pretty basic concept. Two people move in sync to music. Have you heard of it?"

“I’m familiar with the concept," he replies dryly. “I'm just not sure why you want to do it. Especially here."

"We're at a party, Thorn," you say with a grin. "It's what people do."

"But it's not what we do," he points out. He's not a dancer. In fact, he's never danced before. He has no idea what to do, no idea where to put his hands, or how to move. And the idea of doing it in front of all these people when there’s so much at stake is making him uncomfortable. "Why can't we just go somewhere private?"

"Because I'm having fun," you say with a shrug. Your expression is neutral, and there's a glint in your eye, and Thorn realizes that you're trying to mess with him. That you're pushing his buttons.

He narrows his eyes, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Oh, I see. You're playing games."

“Me? Play games? Never."

He huffs out a laugh, shaking his head. He should have seen this coming. He should have known that you would push the envelope. He's spent the past three months testing the boundaries, and he can't fault you for returning the favor.

Besides, there's something about the way you're smirking up at him, the challenge shining in your eyes, that makes him want to prove himself. Makes him want to show you just how bold he can be.

“You’re serious?” he asks. You nod, a smile curving your lips.

"Absolutely."

Thorn sighs. His heart pounds, his pulse racing, and he runs a hand through his hair, his eyes flicking to the crowd. He can't believe he's actually considering it. Can't believe that he's seriously contemplating doing something so reckless, something so stupid. Something so completely insane. He can’t believe you’re asking him to dance in the middle of a crowded ballroom as if there aren’t hundreds of eyes watching, as if people aren't constantly talking and judging.

He can't believe he's even thinking about it.

But then again, maybe he should.

Maybe this is what the two of you need. Maybe this is the best way to finally make the lines between personal and professional disappear. Maybe it's the best way to prove that he's serious. That he's in this. That you're more important to him than any of it.

It's a risk. A big risk.

“You know, Commander," you say, leaning in and pressing a kiss to his cheek, and his heart flutters, "you don’t have to do it if you don't want to."

He swallows, his throat tightening, and his eyes meet yours.

Your gaze is warm, and soft, and full of affection. And for a moment, Thorn is overwhelmed.

This is it.

This is the moment.

He can see the emotion written across your face, can feel the intensity of your gaze, and he can't help the wave of love that surges through him. He can't hold back. Not anymore. Not now. Not after everything.

His heart beats faster, his stomach knotting. He knows he should think about this, should take his time, should consider his next move.

But he can't.

It's now or never.

Thorn’s lips curl into a smile, and he leans down, pressing a soft kiss to the corner of your mouth. It's short, and sweet, and chaste, but it's the first time the two of you have kissed in public. The first time the two of you have let anyone see just how close the two of you are.

His lips brush against yours, and then he pulls away, his eyes searching your face.

"No," he says slowly. "I want to. I really, really want to."

He takes a deep breath, his gaze sweeping over the room. He sees the people milling about, the senators, the delegates, the dignitaries, and he can't help but smirk. It's like a challenge, and he can't resist.

"Just promise me you'll tell me if I step on your feet," he says lightly. You grin, a spark of mischief flashing in your eyes, and then his hand is taking yours, pulling you towards the dance floor

He feels the eyes of the crowd following him as he leads you through the room. He knows that they're wondering what's going on. Why one of the clone Commanders is escorting a senator onto the dance floor. Why he's smiling. Why you're laughing. He knows they're wondering why the two of you are standing so close.

But he doesn't care.

All he cares about is the way you're looking at him.

"Thorn," you murmur, and his grip tightens on your waist, his free hand grasping yours. He checks to make sure he’s got it right, and then his eyes meet yours, his heart hammering against his chest. "You don't have to do this. You can change your mind."

"I know," he says, a smile curling at the corner of his mouth. "I don't want to."

"Okay," you whisper, a soft smile gracing your lips.

"Hey," he says softly, and you look up at him, your gaze locking with his. "I love you."

Your eyes widen, your breath catching in your throat, and for a moment, Thorn panics. Maybe he's gone too far. Maybe he's moved too fast. Maybe you weren't ready to hear it.

But then your smile widens, a light chuckle leaving your mouth, and you lean up, pressing a soft kiss to the side of his jaw. "I love you too."

His chest tightens, and he laughs, his forehead dropping down to press against yours. He closes his eyes, taking a deep breath, and then the two of you begin to move.

You're graceful as always, and he's pleased to discover that, while he may not be a dancer, he's not terrible. And while the music is loud, and the room is full, it's almost like the two of you are the only ones there.

The world falls away. The lights dim. The crowd disappears. It's just the two of you, holding each other, swaying in time to the music.

Thorn looks down at you, a soft smile on his lips, and he leans in, his mouth brushing against yours. Your lips part under his touch, and his tongue darts out, teasing, tasting, and then he pulls away.

"We should do this more often," you murmur. He smiles, his nose brushing against yours.

"You have a habit of making me do things I wouldn't normally do.”

You chuckle. "It's a gift."

"I think it's more than that," he says, and you grin.

"What do you mean?"

"I think," he says, his thumb stroking along your waist, "that you're just so irresistible that I can't help myself."

Your gaze drifts to his mouth, your tongue darting out and running over your bottom lip, and Thorn smirks.

"I think that might be the case for both of us," you say with a smirk. Thorn laughs, shaking his head.

"Senator, are you saying that you can't help yourself around me?"

"That's exactly what I'm saying."

"Well then," he murmurs, his hand squeezing yours, and then he leans down, his lips brushing against your ear, "we should probably find one of those empty rooms and make good on my proposal."

You laugh, a low, sultry sound, and Thorn feels his blood heating, his skin tingling. His fingers tighten on your waist, and his hips press against yours.

"I think that's an excellent idea, Commander."

His lips brush against the skin just below your ear, and then he pulls back, a smile curling at the corners of his mouth. "Let's go, Senator."

The two of you move off the dance floor, heading towards the back of the room, and Thorn glances over his shoulder.

There are eyes watching, whispers spreading, and he knows that, come morning, the two of you are going to be the talk of the city. He's going to be fielding calls from his fellow Commanders and the Chancellor, and there's going to be a mountain of paperwork and questions and interviews. There's going to be a media circus, and he knows that the next few weeks are going to be a nightmare.

But for once, he doesn't care.

Because he loves you, and you love him, and that's all that matters.

Taglist: @baddest-batchers @covert1ntrovert @stellarbit @bruh-myguy-what @qvnthesia

@spicy-clones @kindalonleystars @cw80831 @totallyunidentified @heidnspeak

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@ghostymarni @gottalovehistory @burningnerdchild @yoitsjay @callsign-denmark

@julli-bee @sonicrainbooms @captn-trex @feral-ferrule @webslinger-holland

@marchingviolist @deerspringdreams @chaicilatte @somewhere-on-kamino @silly-starfish

@floofyroro @veralii @chubbyhedgehog @meshlajetii

[penkura]

knowing [4/8]

Summary: Sanji knew you were the one the moment he met you.

Pairing: Sanji x Reader

Warnings: None really. Normal One Piece stuff I guess.

Note: Timeskip time! I do really gloss over Fishman Island yes, I just had to lol. Slightly shorter too, but longer chapters are coming up!

[Ch. 1] ● [Ch. 2] ● [Ch. 3]

Arriving back in Sabaody caused you to take a deep breath while you watched the various people from the shoreline. Finally, you were going to see your crew again, and though you had been so welcomed by the kunoichi village and were grateful to them, you couldn't wait to see your found family again.

You couldn't wait to see Sanji again.

Promising to keep in touch with your temporary home, you left the kunoichi who had brought you back to Sabaody and started making your way towards Shakky's bar, watching the vivre card in your hand to keep you from getting lost.

Every now and then though, you'd catch sight of blond hair and have to do a double take, making sure you weren't completely passing by Sanji, only to be fully disappointed when you saw it wasn't him. You'd even see people with orange and blue hair, wondering if it was Nami or Franky, once again disappointed to see it wasn't either of them.

You were, however, beyond excited once you finally saw one of your crewmates, shouting to them and running to hug them.

“Robin!!”

You threw your arms around her while Robin laughed and greeted you. You were the first person she'd seen as well, having the same problem where she saw people that looked like your other crewmates but weren't them.

“I wonder who else might be here.” You thought aloud while walking with Robin to Shakky's bar, anxious to see the rest of your crew.

“Well, Brook is definitely here. He's hosting a concert.”

“Oooh yeah! I've got one of his TDs, it's not bad,” you grinned a bit at the thought, “think he'd sign it for me?”

“I'm sure he'd be delighted to.”

You both laughed a bit, before you saw another head of blond hair, stopping and turning quickly to see if it was him. When you saw it wasn't, your shoulders slumped and Robin gave you a smile.

“Looking for someone?”

You were quite obvious about it, even you knew that.

So you turned back around, smiled, and linked your arm with Robin's before continuing onward.

“Just the love of my life.”

You and Robin laughed, despite you're being serious, talking about your two years apart on your way to Shakky's. You'd see Sanji soon, whether once you got back to Sunny or while you were on Sabaody.

You'd see him soon.

+!+

"What, the moss head was the first one here?!"

Shakky laughed and nodded at Sanji's surprise. "Franky arrived ten days ago, but left to go check your ship."

Duval bragged about how he and his crew protected Sunny, while Rayleigh reassured Sanji his coating job was perfect, the Sunny was fine, and you'd all be able to leave for Fishman Island as soon as you were ready. Ignoring Duval, Sanji was more than glad to hear Nami had made it to Sabaody and had gone shopping a few days ago, then Usopp arrived three days prior, and Chopper did so as well, while Brook had a concert that day. The only ones left had been himself, Luffy, Robin, and of course, you.

Hearing you hadn't arrived yet slightly concerned Sanji, he'd expected you to arrive much sooner, maybe even before Zoro, but definitely before you all were mentally scheduled to meet up. He knew you'd be fine, he trusted you and knew how strong you were, but still Sanji was worried your ride to Sabaody may have been late. Luffy would never leave without everyone there, but it sure would be easier if you had a way to communicate that you were near.

"Have you…heard from [Y/N]...maybe?"

Smiling slightly, Shakky shook her head no and watched as Sanji slumped down a bit hearing that. "Sadly no, I haven't heard from your girlfriend."

"W-What. How–"

"You aren't exactly subtle with that lovesick look on your face, young man."

She laughed a bit at him, watching as Sanji stood up from the bar and excused himself, saying he was going to search for ingredients to stock up the Sunny's fridge for when you all left. The whole time his face was bright red and Shakky knew she had guessed right. You and Sanji were practically hanging off each other the whole time you were in Sabaody two years ago, she just knew you were together from the little bit of time you'd been around.

"What a lovestruck cutie."

+!+

"Was that…Sanji?"

"Where?!"

Smiling at your antics, Robin let you hide behind her and look around for your lover, although she wasn't entirely sure why you were hiding. She knew the two of you were together and in love, maybe you were just nervous about not seeing him in two years. You had ended up cutting your hair while you were training, deciding it would be better for fighting. You had changed your outfit to a well fitted tank top and loose, knee length shorts with your basic ninja sandals (like from Naruto ok). You were sure Sanji would love your new look, but it made you nervous to think about seeing him again.

Hopefully the two years apart hadn't made him rethink your relationship or anything.

"Rayleigh, Shakky!"

"Aah, Robin and [Y/N], you're both here!"

Robin nodded while you stepped out from behind her and waved.

"You both just missed Sanji."

"Oh, how unfortunate." Looking over at you, Robin gave you a knowing smile and you did the same, your nerves calming down just a bit. You may have missed out on seeing him just then, but maybe it was for the better. You two would see each other again soon enough, more than likely unable to stay away from each other or keep your hands to yourselves (not in a sexual way you pervs) for a while once you did see each other.

You and Robin stayed for a bit to catch up with Rayleigh and Shakky, thanking Duval and his crew for their help in protecting Sunny as well as they could, before the two of you decided to separate for a bit. Robin would head right for Sunny, but you wanted to do some shopping for some clothes and to maybe find Sanji. When you were in Sabaody last, you'd barely had a chance go look at the vendor stalls before the events with Camie and the Celestial Dragons, and then being sent off like the rest of your crew of course, you didn't have much of a chance to shop around and find anything you wanted.

You ended up buying a mini transponder snail and a few clothing items, deciding you should start heading towards Sunny when you saw a vendor selling kunai and shuriken, and you were instantly drawn in. You were running low on funds, but desperately wanted some new knives to use for any upcoming fights. You were so engrossed in looking and working out the math in your head on how many you could afford, that you nearly jumped three feet when someone wrapped an arm around you and told the vendor to let you get whatever you wanted.

If you hadn't recognized the voice, though slightly deeper than you remembered, and the smell of tobacco mixed with a familiar cologne, you would have whipped around and punched the guy in the face before placing a knife at his neck. Instead you turned around so quickly, coming face to face with the one person you'd been so anxious yet excited to see again.

"Sanji."

"Hey there, beautiful." Sanji gave you a smile and brushed a bit of your hair out of your face, noticing you were tearing up. "I've been looking for you!"

"Sanji!!" You threw your arms around his neck, letting him lift you up and spin you around while you cried out of happiness.  "I-It's you! You're r-really here!!"

"Of course I am! Couldn't leave you with that moss head to get lost or anything!"

Once he set you back down, you got to take a good look at Sanji and see how he'd changed over the last two years as well. He'd swapped his bangs from the left to the right, he'd grown out his goatee more, and even had a mustache now. Even if he still looked exactly the same as two years ago, you'd still think he was handsome and be in love with him.

Of course, Sanji still thought you were beautiful, he'd even say drop dead gorgeous now. He didn't have the chance to tell you so before you kissed him and hugged him again.

"I missed you so much."

"I missed you too, love," Sanji hugged you close, thankful that his two years of hell and running on the Kamabakka Queendom were finally over, and that he was back with you in his arms, "you have no idea how much."

+!+

After all of you were finally together again, you and Nami had spent so much time hugging and giggling over the boys being themselves, once you began your course down to Fishman Island, all you really wanted was to stay near Sanji. Knowing you were going to the land of mermaids, it worried you a little that Sanji might start rethinking your relationship, considering you were apart for two years.

You couldn’t have imagined that your crew would be separated once again, so quickly due to the volatile nature of the ocean depths. Waking up in Camie’s place a short while later, you were glad to see Luffy, Usopp, Chopper, and Sanji were all with you, being escorted elsewhere by your friend, until you met more mermaids who were close with Camie.

Sanji tried, he really did, to not let it get to him, especially with you around, to not fall over himself around the mermaids, unfortunately, despite it all, he still ended up nearly bleeding out from all the other pretty girls around. You chose to stay with him and Chopper after he’d been given a blood transfusion to keep him from dying, and once he woke up, Sanji was almost on the floor in front of you apologizing.

“I’m so sorry, my love! I’m such a fool of a man!”

“Uh, Sanji—”

“Please forgive me!! I love you more than anything!!”

Before he’s able to say much else, you take his face in your hands and shut him up with a kiss, allowing you both to get your thoughts straight before you say anything in response to his groveling. Honestly though, he should know you better by now.

“I’m not happy about the situation—”

“I’m so sor—”

“But, I’m not going to be mad at you anymore. You’ve apologized enough and I believe you’re really sorry,” you give Sanji a smile, before rubbing your nose against his and making his face turn bright red at the affection, “I’m sure you went through a lot while we were apart, so I’ll give you a pass this time.”

“Mon amour, you’re the only one I love that much.”

“Yeah, I know, so if you do that again, I’ll have to clean my kunai.”

“…oh.”

You laughed a bit at Sanji’s reaction, which made him relax and smile in return, before he kissed you again.

“I swear, you’re the only one for me.”

“And the same for me, cutie.”

+!+

After you’ve all helped to put a stop to Hordy Jones and Luffy prevented the ship Noah from destroying Fishman Island, you’re glad for a reprieve that turns into a party with food and drinks. Every member of your crew, all the Fishmen that can fit in the palace, had a blast and the party continued on for so long that you and Sanji had to step away for a few minutes alone.

Somehow, luckily, you found an empty closet that you could sneak into, finally getting some time alone after everything that happened. You started out just talking and holding each other, before Sanji started kissing you all over your face and making you giggle, every now and then quieting yourself if you heard footsteps. You were still trying to keep your relationship a secret, so Sanji understood you silencing your giggles for a moment wasn’t because of him, it was to keep someone from opening the door.

“Hey,” Sanji kissed your cheek again, smiling at your giggle while you gave him a questioning look, “What if…what if we told everyone?”

“Hm?”

“About us. I mean, its been a while and part of the crew knows already.”

“Sanj—”

“Only if you want to!” He kissed you again to make sure you knew he wasn’t going to force you to tell everyone if you weren’t ready. “We can wait until you want to, I just—”

“Sanji,” you have to take his face in your hands to make him stop before he rambles too much, forcing him to look at you as you smile at him, “I think it’s fine if we tell everyone. We’re both in this for the long haul, I don’t think they have to worry about us making things weird by breaking up or anything.”

“You’re sure?”

“Mm-hm!” You nod and give him another kiss, causing Sanji to hug you tightly. He really was a little worried you’d reject the idea, but if you tell everyone, it’ll make it easier. You won’t have to sneak around and keep everything to yourselves.

“I love you so much!”

“I love you too, Sanji!” You giggle when he starts to kiss you face again. Sanji really is the sweetest man you’ve ever met, you feel so lucky to have him as your boyfriend, maybe future husband and father to your children one day, if he wants that with you too.

Unfortunately you’re interrupted when someone opens the closet door, and the sigh is familiar enough that you feel your face heating up.

“Can you two stop being gross for one day?”

“Zoro!” You shouted while Sanji pulled away from you to give a glare to your swordsman. “What are you doing?!”

“I was looking for the bathroom!”

“This obviously isn’t it!!”

[sukuna-dees-nuts]

rizzless sukuna pt 3

FINALLY!! i've finished it. it's much longer than i planned but what're you gonna do?? lmao happy late late valentines day everyone! have a sukufushi date

@nessieartss you wanted me to tag you so here i am tagging you!

part 1 | part 2

---

Sukuna hasn't been able to stop thinking about his date. 

Yes, it's only been about two hours since he and Megumi have set up their date, but that doesn't mean that Sukuna can't be excited. He's never had a date before (if that wasn’t obvious by the way he totally fucked up his pickup line). It’s a mystery why Megumi had even agreed.

After the initial excitement had worn off, Sukuna found himself wondering if Megumi only said yes out of pity, even if he had been amused by Sukuna's fuck-up. 

But as soon as the thoughts came, he pushed them away because since when does Sukuna think about the consequences of his actions? He should be thinking about what the hell they're gonna do for this date. 

Sukuna had half the mind to ask Maki what they should do, whether she had any suggestions about what Megumi might like, but then he remembered the “advice” she'd given him earlier and a scowl came to his face. Even if it had worked, he refused to send her a text. 

“Hey, Sukuna!” 

The older boy looks up at the sound of his name, seeing Yuuji making his way over with a grin on his face. He doesn't allow Sukuna to speak before he nudges his brother with an elbow. “We should go to that new Boba place! Gojo told me that the Mango flavor is amazing—”

“No—”

“What do you mean ‘no’?” Yuuji pulls away, looking affronted. “You don't wanna spend time with your favorite brother?” He gives Sukuna his best puppy eyes, sticking out his bottom lip for added effect. 

Sukuna rolls his eyes and pushes Yuuji's face away from him. “Well if you'd let me finish my damn sentence,” he grunts. “Not today, I have plans.”

Yuuji snorts. “Plans? Doing what? Throwing rocks at police cars?” 

“None of your business,” the older boy replies with a sniff, keeping his face impassive. Yuuji opens his mouth but Sukuna already knows what he's going to ask. “And no you cannot come with.”

“What? Why not?” He pouts once again. 

“Because.” That's all Sukuna says. He pulls out his phone and checks his messages. His heart does a stupid little flip when he sees Megumi's name on a notification, letting Sukuna know that he's reached the spot where they're supposed to meet up. Sukuna responds to let him know that he's on his way. 

Putting his phone back into his pocket, he reaches out and ruffles Yuuji's hair, earning an annoyed grunt from his brother. “See ya later.”

Sukuna turns on his heel and heads in the direction of where Megumi is waiting, missing the intrigued look on his brother's face. 

The closer he gets, the faster his heart starts to beat and Sukuna runs a hand through his hair. Briefly, he stops himself before he rounds the corner just dust himself off and shake out his hands as if it might get rid of the anxiety that he’s feeling. Once again, he pushes his hair back and takes a deep breath. 

Rounding the corner, the corner of his mouth lifts up when he sees Megumi waiting patiently, scrolling through his phone. He looks up at the sound of footsteps and he immediately pockets his phone when he sees that it’s Sukuna. A small smile comes to his face.

“Hey,” Sukuna greets.

Megumi replies with a “hey” of his own. 

Silence stretches out between them and if it were anyone else, Sukuna would be inclined to laugh at just how fucking awkward it is. He really didn’t think this through.

Megumi doesn’t seem to mind however and asks, “So, where are we going?”

“How about that new Boba place?” Sukuna suggests. 

“Sure. Better to go with you than be dragged along by Gojo. He was late to class this morning because he was getting a drink there.” Megumi shakes his head and Sukuna huffs. 

The two of them turn to begin walking in the direction of the Boba shop which Sukuna realizes that he has no idea where it is. Hopefully Megumi knows where they’re going. The older boy would hate to make himself look like an even bigger fool by getting them lost. 

As they walk, the two of them make small talk and Sukuna finds it easier to keep up a conversation with Megumi than anyone that isn’t Yuuji; he feels his anxiety melting away by the minute. There’s still something nagging at him in the back of his mind that Megumi is only humoring him, but Sukuna ignores it, as he does with most of his internal turmoils. 

When they arrive at the shop, Megumi and Sukuna reach for the door handle simultaneously, their fingers brushing. Both pull away instantly, eyes wide as they meet each other's gaze. There's a pink blush dusting over Megumi’s cheekbones and Sukuna's brain short circuits at how cute he looks. The thought alone makes Sukuna's ears burn and he clears his throat, forcing himself to look away. 

They both hesitate only to reach for the door at the same time, again, both retracting their hands before they can touch again. This time, Sukuna does chuckle at how ridiculous they're being, trying his best to ignore how fucking adorable Megumi is with his cheeks red (and ignore how his fingers are still tingling after he and Megumi barely touched). He grabs the door handle to yank it open much harder than necessary. 

He gestures for Megumi to enter first and Megumi nods, stepping around Sukuna quickly to enter the shop. Sukuna shakes his head at himself, pressing his hand to his chest, willing his heart to slow the fuck down. He's on a date, not running a fucking marathon! 

Stepping up next to Megumi, Sukuna looks over the menu, briefly considers asking Yuuji to recommend a flavor, but immediately brushes that thought aside. He would not hear the end of it considering he just turned his brother down to come here. Now Sukuna is on a date with his little brother's best friend at the shop that Yuuji wanted to come to.

Megumi and Sukuna step up to the counter, and as Megumi gives the person at the register his drink order, Sukuna is already pulling out his wallet and card before the other boy can even think about paying. The second the barista gives the total, Sukuna is tapping his card on the terminal screen. When he glances over, Megumi looks unimpressed. 

“Hey, I asked you out first,” Sukuna points out as they find a table to wait at. “It's common courtesy that I pay.”

“Then I suppose I'll have to pay for next time,” Megumi hums, a smirk playing on his lips. 

Sukuna feels his heart flutter in his chest and he internally scowls at himself for such a stupid reaction; what is he? Some little school girl? 

Grow up, Sukuna, he scoffs at himself mentally. 

He hates that the idea of a second date gets him so excited. 

“Bold of you to assume you'd wanna go out with me again,” Sukuna responds with a quirk of his lips. 

Megumi arches an eyebrow, leaning forward. He rests his arms on the table. “Why wouldn't I?” 

Sukuna drums his fingers on the table, holding Megumi’s gaze. “Well for starters, I'm an asshole.”

“Yeah,” Megumi nods. 

“I'm also Yuuji's older brother.”

Again, Megumi nods. “Correct.”

“Gojo doesn't like me. Or rather, I don't like him.”

Megumi snorts. “Gojo enjoys having you at the school. He just thinks you're fun to tease.”

Sukuna pauses momentarily. “He's a terrible influence on Yuuji,” he grumbles. 

This time, Megumi laughs, tucking his face into the collar of his school uniform. The sound makes Sukuna's chest grow warm and he wants to hear that sound again. Who knew such a pretty sounding laugh could come from Megumi Fushiguro?

“That is very true,” Megumi sighs once he's finished laughing. 

Sukuna gets to his feet when their names are called for their drinks, and he’s thankful for the out to give himself a moment to take in a deep breath, to regulate himself before going back to the table. He slides Megumi’s drink across the table and watches as the younger boy easily stabs his straw through the top of his drink and takes a sip. For a second, Sukuna is so transfixed on watching Megumi’s Adam’s apple bob that he doesn’t register the fact that he’s being spoken to. 

“Huh?”

Megumi huffs in amusement. “I was asking why you asked me on a date.”

“Oh,” Sukuna breathes. He blinks and rubs the back of his neck. With his free hand, he takes his straw and stabs it into his own drink so that he can take a sip, stalling for more time to try and give an answer that wouldn’t sound stupid. “I don’t know.”

Perfect. Great answer you fucking loser, Sukuna  tells himself. 

“I, uh, well—” He stutters over his words, making himself look like an even bigger fool. The biggest fool in the Goddamn world. He’s reminding himself of Yuuji at this exact moment. “I’ve been thinking about it and, uh, ah fuck.” Finally he gives up and leans back in his chair, rubbing his hands over his face. 

“I just wanted to and Maki told me to just do it,” Sukuna says, his words muffled by his palms. By now, the tips of his ears are red and he’s sure that his face is the same. Dropping his hands, he continues staring at the ceiling before looking back at his date. 

An amused smirk spreads over Megumi’s mouth and he snorts. “You asked Maki for advice?”

Sukuna takes a sip from his drink as his other hand runs through his hair (he needs to break this habit sooner than later). He scowls, more at himself than at Megumi as he says, “Listen, it’s not my proudest moment, but I’ve never done this before—”

“What?” Megumi gasps dramatically (or as dramatically as Megumi can be), interrupting Sukuna. “Date Man has never had a date before?”

“No,” Sukuna grunts, “and why do you keep calling me Date Man?”

Megumi simply shrugs in response. 

“If I'm Date man, that means you’re Raisin Boy,” the older boy decides with a firm nod. This earns an amused snort from Megumi who doesn't disagree. 

They go back to sitting in silence again, sipping their drinks. Thankfully, the other boy speaks up first.

“Are you as big of a movie buff as your brother?” Megumi asks.

Sukuna looks up. “Only by association,” he replies. “If he's not watching with his Junpei friend then he's forcing me to watch them.” A pause to take a sip of his drink. “Though, I do love a good horror movie; it's my favorite genre.” 

Perking up in his seat, Megumi leans forward a little. “What's your favorite horror movie?”

“'The Exorcist'. A classic.” Sukuna kisses his fingers. When his eyes land on Megumi again, the other boy has a look on his face that says he doesn't agree. Arching an eyebrow, Sukuna asks, “What?” 

Megumi gives a lame, one-shouldered shrug. “It's alright.”

Sukuna gapes at him, jaw dropping slightly and he blinks, shaking his head. “Alright? What do you mean ‘it's alright’?” 

“It's alright,” Megumi repeats while he mixes his drink. “I'll agree with you that it's a classic.”

There's a pause and Sukuna waits for him to continue, but he doesn't. Sukuna gestures for Megumi to continue. 

“I just think 'The Conjuring' is better.”

A loud laugh escapes from Sukuna's mouth and he claps a hand over his mouth. He clears his throat, glancing around to see if anyone noticed. Turning back to his date, he folds his arms and rests them on the table.

“You're just saying that,” Sukuna decides, eyeing Megumi over. “There's no way you think 'The Conjuring' is better.”

Megumi almost looks offended. “It is better. I prefer the first movie out of all of them, but I'm not too picky. Not to mention they're based on true stories and I'm a fan of nonfiction.”

“'The Exorcist' is based off of a true story,” Sukuna points out.

“Very loosely,” Megumi retorts. “Don't get me wrong, the actress who played the little girl—”

“Linda Blair—”

“—did a fantastic job, as did the actress who played her mother—”

“Ellen Burstyn,” Sukuna supplies helpfully.

Megumi smirks at him. “Not a big movie buff, huh?” he teases.

All Sukuna can do is shrug. “It's my favorite horror movie. I've done my research, alright?” 

Shaking his head, the other continues, “but with that being said, I think the plot of 'The Conjuring' is better. It's more suspenseful. Keeps you on your toes. Nothing terribly exciting happens in 'The Exorcist' until the last 20 minutes of the movie or so.” Seeing unimpressed look on Sukuna's face, Megumi asks, “When is the last time you saw 'The Conjuring'?”

Sukuna thinks for a moment. 

When is the last time he's seen that movie? Yuuji isn't much of a horror fan, and recently, Sukuna has been busy dealing with his stupid feelings and training that he had really watched any movies. 

“It's been a minute,” he finally says. 

The corner of Megumi’s mouth twitches up. “Maybe we should get together again and watch them back to back, you know, to see which one truly is better.”

The suggestion throws Sukuna through a loop and his brain stops thinking for a second. His heart skips a beat in his chest, his stomach twisting into knots and he wants to punch the table for getting so giddy. He can't stop the smile that comes to his face. 

“It's a date… Raisin Boy.”

[lucy90712]

Hiii, I was wondering if you could write some Marc guiu, him at his family party and always telling the reader he loves her and giving her kisses making her shy and hide under his hoodie. x

I’m not sure if that makes sense 😂 but .. yeh

A/n: this is awful I’m sorry 

I have spent countless hours with Marc's family, after he introduced me to them for the first time and we got on well he has taken me to his house when they are around all the time. My family don't live in Barcelona and I don't get on very well with them as I had a tough childhood so being around Marc's family is really nice. Every time I see them they are always so sweet and make me feel so welcome which makes me feel like I belong in Barcelona a bit more. 

Recently Marc has been really busy with lots of matches and training so we haven't got to spend as much time together as we would like. We weren't supposed to see each other until the middle of next week as Marc had a match yesterday and then his family were holding a get together for some extended family which he was going to. I wasn't supposed to go to this reunion of sorts as it's supposed to be for family only but after his match last night Marc texted me asking me if I was able to go as his parents wanted to invite me. I made sure that I was actually invited as I don't want to intrude on a family gathering but he assured me that his parents wanted me there as I'm family to them. I could've cried hearing that they think of me as family but those emotions were overtaken by nerves at the thought of meeting Marc's extended family for the first time. 

Marc told me to dress up a little bit and I took that seriously so I sent him about a million pictures of different options for him to pick between and he picked a blue dress which matched what he was going to wear. He loves for us to be matching so we can take cute pictures and so that it makes it more obvious we are together when we are out. Being the gentleman that he is he offered to pick me up even though this party is being held at his parents home where he lives and of course I wasn't going to say no as I'm desperate to see him as I missed him. 

He came and picked me up from my apartment about an hour before the party was supposed to start as he needed to be there before everyone else arrived but he wasn't going to miss the chance to pick me up. He arrived at my door with flowers for no reason just because he wanted to get me flowers which he does quite a lot because he's just the sweetest boyfriend. We spent a few minutes just stood in my apartment catching up on things that have happened since we last saw each other even though we've texted every single day we still love to talk about things again in person. The time came that we had to leave so Marc grabbed my hand and we walked down to his car where he opened the door for me like he always does before getting in the drivers side and settling his hand on my thigh which has become a habit of his when driving. 

Once we arrived Marc's sister quickly stole me from Marc so I could help her with her hair which is something I often do for her when I'm around. The two of us get along really well she often asks for advice from me as I've been through school and know what it's like to deal with all the drama and sometimes we gossip about Marc especially when he's around as we both know he hates it. Today she was telling me how glad she was that I was able to come as Marc hasn't shut up about how much he's missed me and how much he's been sulking about the fact that we haven't seen each other all week which I thought was cute but naturally his sister thought was cringe. 

After a while there was a knock on the door and Marc came in and wrapped his arms around my waist and shoved his face into the crook of my neck. There are times that he can be very clingy but that's usually only when we are alone as when his friends around he's busy laughing with them and when his family are there we always refrain from too much pda. I'm not a huge fan of pda in general but especially around Marc's family as I don't want them to feel uncomfortable plus I hate people knowing the way we interact in the privacy of our own places. As much as I hate it on a normal day it felt nice to have Marc close to me tonight as I've really missed him this week. 

"Can I have my girlfriend back?" Marc asked 

"If it means you stop holding onto her like she'll disappear if you let go then go ahead" his sister laughed 

That was all Marc needed to pick me up over his shoulder and carry me back downstairs while I protested. I was so worried that my dress was too short and that I'd flash his family despite me having shorts on underneath but luckily none of them were in the living room when he reached the bottom of the stairs and put me down. Just as we got downstairs the doorbell rang and people started to arrive Marc's parents welcomed people in and then Marc introduced me to everyone as they came to greet him. Meeting this many new people makes me nervous usually but after meeting the first few people I relaxed quite a lot as they were all so nice. 

Everyone sat outside talking and eating the food that had been ordered I sat on my own out the way watching as Marc talked to some of his aunts and cousins. I assumed he was talking about football and his recent matches as that seems to be what everyone knows about. He smiled at me mid conversation and then he beckoned me over so I got up and joined him. Within seconds he had his arms around my waist as he got me to stand in front of him so I could join the conversation. As I talked with his aunts about my plans for the future and university Marc pressed the odd kiss to the top of my head or my temple which made me blush every time but I tried to keep the conversation going. 

Over time more people joined the conversation and somehow I ended up sat talking with all of Marc's female relatives. Marc stayed by my side the entire time he didn't really say anything but he kept and arm around me and pressed kisses to any part of my face he could reach whenever I wasn't talking. He also whispered lots of compliments in my ear and told me how much he loved me over and over again. I know he was doing it because he's missed me and he's feeling clingy but it feels like he's just trying to make me blush in front of his family. 

"You two are such a sweet couple" one of Marc's aunts said 

"You remind me of when I first met your grandfather although he stopped once we were together it's nice to see young love" his grandma said 

"You better not let her go Marc girls like this don't come around often" his cousin said 

"I don't think we have to worry about that he always wants to see her and he's always talking about her" his sister complained 

"They are very sweet together I'm glad Marc found someone like y/n she's such a lovely girl and they make such a lovely couple" his mum said 

All of these compliments made me feel really shy. Compliments in general make me feel shy but hearing so many people say nice things about me and my relationship made me want to crawl in a hole and never come back out. I could feel that my face was on fire so I know I looked like a tomato. I hid my face a little in Marc's chest as I didn't want his family to see how much just a simple compliment makes me blush. Marc just smiled at me as he always says he thinks it's cute how shy I get but right now I wanted to wipe the smile right off his face but I can't. 

The rest of the night was a lot more chill as I spent most of it just with Marc until everyone left and he gathered some things so he could stay at mine. I was exhausted after spending all evening talking to people so we both got changed and got straight into bed. Marc got in bed after me but as soon as he was under the covers he was already pulling me close to him so I was resting on his chest as that's his he likes us to sleep. 

"Thank you for coming today I think it's pretty obvious but my whole family loves you so you are more than welcome at family events from now on" he said 

"I'm glad they all like me I always worry about what people will think of our relationship" I said 

"Well you don't need to worry about it everyone important in our lives thinks we make a good couple so if anyone else thinks any different they don't matter" Marc said 

"You need to stop saying things that you know will make me blush" I laughed 

"But you look so cute when you blush I love when you get all shy because then you hide your face in my chest and that might just be my favourite thing that you do" he said 

I didn't know what to say to that so I just kissed him and settled down to go to sleep while thinking about how nice it is to have a second family who love me more than my own family and a boyfriend who treats me so well.

[greeniegirl23]

Isn't It.. Lovely? (Chapter 3#)

One month.

You had one month to make the biggest decision you'd ever make in your life. Part of you wondered why you didn't tell Alastor to have a field day with your Father's corpse, until you remembered that the other part of you still loved and cared for him.

He was still your Dad and once upon a time he was a very good Dad. Your parents were practically a power couple when your Mom was alive, after her death, depression fell on him like a bag of bricks. Leading him to find feeling again in glasses of wine and bottles of hard liquor.

Everyday you pondered on this, wondering if something would finally push you over the edge. If you'd snap and take revenge for yourself.

You didn't like having those thoughts. Yes, the idea of liberty made you feel elated but at the cost of the last family member you had? It was conflicting to say the least.

All that worrying came to a halt once Alastor began to solidify his place in your life.

Every night at 9pm sharp, when you were dressed for bed and your despicable abuser was asleep. Alastor used his powers to turn your radio into your own personal hotline. He was ever so happy to hear from you, happiest when he saw nor heard any traces of harm inflicted on you that day.

He soon found out that you were a curious one and a terrible over-sharer. It was obvious you never really had friends before and if you did, they left you behind long ago. You were as innocent and pure as the driven snow. Always asking questions about him, about Hell, and what it was like back when he was on Earth.

You loved when he told you more about his life. It was like he was reading you your own personal bedtime stories. Tales of speakeasies and the depression, parties that lasted from dusk to dawn, and of course, all of the completely justified crimes he committed before his demise.

As payment for his stories, you told him about your own and caught him up on modern day issues. He seemed especially interested in World War I, disappointed that he died a few years shy of when it started. You told him about your health science classes, your school, and he even became a good study buddy to help you out with your tests.

“Alright darling, last question.” He stated, a drum roll playing in the background. “If your patient performs a forward lunge, which plane of the body are they moving in?”

You chewed on the end of your pencil. “..Coronal?”

A bell dinging made you smile. “Correct! Well done darling, but I'd like for you to work on your confidence when you answer. No one wants a doctor that's unsure of what they're doing.”

“Yeah..I just get so unsure sometimes. I think I'm more scared of being wrong than being right.”

He chuckled. “Do not fret my dear! I've been doing these little pop quizzes with you long enough to know you have a sharp mind. Confidence is a tool that will solidify your place in the career you plan to pursue, so don't be afraid to utilize it more.” His voice was so kind and mentoirish. It felt like he was giving you life lessons almost every time he talked.

On one hand that made you embarrassed. Like these were things you should have already known but you didn't, but you decided to give yourself some grace. Life was different for you than everyone else, so obviously there would be some things you didn't experience to gain knowledge from.

You placed your pencil down and sat cross legged in your chair. Not being the type of person who could sit still, nor do things normally. “Is that how you become a radio host? Because you were super confident?”

There was a pause. “Well, it was something that helped. Being a professional at what I do required more than just believing in myself. Most people think it's easy, but it has its challenges. For example, I used to rehearse my script in the mirror to stop myself from unconsciously going ‘umm’ every 10-30 seconds. It also aided in preventing myself from fumbling my words.”

“That sounds like solid advice.” You smiled. “I should start keeping a journal when you're around and call it ‘Life Lessons As Taught By The Radio Demon.’”

A loud cackling broke out over the radio. “Ah, so the girl does have a sense of humor. A good one at that!” He said proudly. “And here I thought you were all doom and gloom.”

“Hey! I'll have you know staying positive at all times can be very exhausting.” You huffed, placing your hands on your hips in a pouty attitude. “It's really hard to smile when it feels like the world is against you...”

There was a stagnant silence in the air as you turned your head to gaze out the window, watching the rain drizzle from the grey sky. It was your favorite weather, even more so because of the friend it allowed you to find.

Alastor pondered over your words before he took a deep breath. “That leads to a question that I've been meaning to ask you for some time now. It's a rather sensitive one so if you'd prefer not to answer, I would understand.”

Giving the plushie your attention, Alastor's tone turned concerned as he asked. “I can’t help but wonder, Darling, where is your mother..?”

Without missing a beat, you replied. “Oh, my Dad murdered her.”

A sharp microphone screech omitted from the radio. It was safe to say he most definitely was not expecting that..

Not because he can't see your degenerate of a guardian doing something of the sort, he was actually more curious as to how someone as sloppy as your Dad could get away with something like that. No. What got him was even though you were saying words that no child should ever say until they're well into adulthood, you smiled. A soft one, filled with unspeakable pain and a lust for something you could not yet gain.

You could feel him hesitating to ask you some more questions on the topic, so you decided that you could quickly give him your life story. “Whenever anyone asks about it, I always tell them that she passed from cancer but, that's not true..”

Alastor’s signal chirped in curiosity, but he made sure to sound sympathetic. “What happened?..”

You chuckled a bitter melody.

“She was born a diabetic and I was around twelve.. Everyday my Mom took her medicine, the diabetes is actually what led her to becoming a doctor in the first place. Every morning my Dad would make her coffee, as a way of telling her he loved her. I snuck a few sips before only to find out she made it black, when she caught me she told me “Mommy can't have sugar…”

When I turned fourteen, they started arguing. A lot. I can remember hearing them sometimes. Mom threatened to leave him because he was starting to grow a gambling issue and she was tired of taking the brunt of most of the bills. He promised to change and that's when everything started to go downhill.. Weeks went by, she just started getting sicker and sicker seemingly out of nowhere. Still had her morning coffee though. I'd make it for her sometimes and she reminded me “Mommy can't have sugar.” Hardly able to do anything for herself, much less take her medicine. Of course he said he'd do it, he promised me he did when he took me to school..He still made her coffee, before he went to work and after she had been made bed bound..I thought it was a lie, that it wasn't true until I realized that she died that morning with a cup of coffee in her hand..”

A sour laugh left your lips, as you recalled that day you came home from school and found her lying there with blood on the pillow, blood that she had been coughing up for almost a month.

“That bastard was poisoning her with fucking sugar… Everyday he was putting a little bit in her morning coffee and not giving her the insulin she needed. She was a Type 1 diabetic and he did all of it for some fuckin insurance money..” You sighed, running a hand through your hair. Before yanking it in frustration and punching your fist through the nearest wall, your face was blank and unmoving for a second not even flinching as you removed your bruised fist from the drywall. “Mama couldn't have sugar..”

Alastor listened as you explained your mother's demise. His distaste for your father grew more and more as he recalled memories of his own childhood. He'd never tell you to your face, but he could see parts of himself in you from his younger years, if lead in the proper manner, you could become quite the promising killer.

He shook his head. Not the best thoughts to be having right now, not while you're on the edge of a mental breakdown.

“I..Would be lying to you if I said I knew what to tell you about such an awful situation..” He stated hesitantly. “But I can say that I am sorry, that you had to deal with something like this so early in life.”

“Don't be sorry, there's nothing to be done about it…She's gone now and I have to get away from him.” You declared, looking at your now bruised hand. “Now you understand why I made that wish. On any day, at any time, for any reason, that man could decide to kill me. To kill his own daughter in cold blood..”

Alastor hummed. “If you know this, then let me help you." He demanded. "I cannot sit idly by forever my dear, these links to your world are only good for short times to prevent other demons from causing other problems. No one understands the severity of this situation more than you. I would love to help you exact revenge on that putrid sack of skin but you must choose before it is too late and I am no longer around..

You sat in silence as Alastor did his best to help you come to a decision. As much as you hated being rushed, you couldn't deny that he was correct. But the decision was hard, harder than you thought it would be considering the fact that you still loved your father and the man he used to be…

All these thoughts ran through your head on a daily basis, everytime they made you wanna curl up and cry. Snatching up the plush doll, you gave it a good squeeze and hid your face in your knees, wishing that your Mom was still around.

The Radio Demon pursed his lips in thought, he wasn't good with others emotions unless he could feed off of the entertainment from it, much less comforting them. There was nothing entertaining about this, about you being sad. He didn't like it for a reason he couldn't explain, perhaps because you were so bubbly in the beginning?

You weren't trying to do anything miraculous, you just wanted to live your life in peace and possibly get justice for your mother. That was something he could understand. He wouldn't mind completely decimating your Dad, truly he wouldn't! It'd be on the house for you, truly you're the most pitiful soul he's come across in a long while.

He supposed he could pull a few quick strings to make you feel better in the moment. To bring back that smile of yours, full of wonder and a desire for life.

As you continued to seek shelter in your knees, you felt a gentle touch caress the top of your head, sharp claws softly scraping your scalp in an attempt to comfort you.

Wait..

WHAT?!

Quickly yet carefully, you snapped your head up to see none other than The Radio Demon crouched down right in front of you. His hand still rested on the crown of the head as you both stared at each other for a moment.

“I'm sorry.. am I dreaming?” You blurted out.

Alastor smiled, laughing in a low tone at your completely gobsmacked expression. “Fortunately for you, the answer is no my dear. As a gentleman, it'd be rude of me not to at least attempt to help a lady in emotional distress.”

You were still dazed and confused about him being here, much less t o u c h i n g you!! “Ida..I-- I didn't know you could-”

“Travel through the radio? It is quite possible but I only do so on rare occasions since it requires a fair bit of my power that cannot be overexerted in one day.”

Standing up to his full height, you realized how tall he was and thanked God that the ceiling was high enough for his antlers not to scrape. Crawling out of your chair, you immediately felt like an ant compared to him, the top of your head barely came to his collarbone.

“Holy crap you're tall." You blurted again. "I mean, I knew that you were tall but, you're really, really tall..”

Smirking with pride, he twirled his cane expertly like the show off you knew and loved. “7”0 exactly my dear, a foot taller than I was when I was a mortal! Though I suppose that was the universes funny way of punishing me for my crimes, I've bumped my forehead on door frames a good 50 times in both life and death!”

As you examined his real life appearance, you couldn't help but laugh. “Yeah well, the heels don't help.” You pointed to his shoes.

He huffed in feigned offense. “They are not heels, darling they are tap dancing shoes and it was quite common for them to have a bit of height back in my day.”

“Okay, Fred Astare.” You snorted as he settled himself on the side of your bed as you marveled at the fact that he was still taller than you even while sitting down. “And here I was preparing to offer you a dance in hopes of lifting your spirits, only for you to insult my tastes in fashion.” He hmphed, crossing his arms and legs while sticking up his pointy nose towards you.

In a daring moment, you sat right next to him crissed crossed, careful not to to touch him while he continued to play offended. “C’mon Al, don't be so huffy. I didn't mean anything by it.”

“ ‘Al’ huh?” He hummed. “Sounds like someone is getting rather familiar.”

“Hey, you call me 'Darling' and 'Dear' so often I think that it's only fair that I call you 'Al' on occasions.”

“I suppose you have a point. Nevertheless, I came here to try and boost your spirits, you seem to be doing better so if you wish to be bratty I can just go back home..” He teased with an evil grin.

“Wait!” You said just a bit too loudly. “Would you like to play a game with me? Ya know, before you go..”

Alastor raised an eyebrow in curiosity as he parted his lips to deny your offer, until you pulled out the big guns and gave him your best puppy girl eyes. A chill went down his spine from your usage of such cheap tactics, remembering his years as a lad and doing the exact same thing when he wanted something desperately from his dear mother.

“Okay! Okay!” He said, placing his hands up in surrender. “I shall subject myself to whatever game this is for one round, as long as you stop making that revolting expression..”

He watched as you smiled with pure enthusiasm. Such a beautiful smile you had, it made him irritated that you didn't do it more, yet proud that he typically was the source of it sprouting in the first place. Crimson eyes followed your movements as you shuffled off the bed to grab a small deck of cards off of your shelf. A part of him hoped you heard the chuckle that left his lips while you struggled to stand on your toes to retrieve this game.

“It's called ‘Uno’ “ You explained, walking back to him with a red box in hand. “It's a pretty simple game and the rules are easy.” Dumping the cards out of the box, the two of you sat parallel with one another.

”However, this simple game has been known to end more friendships than Monopoly and Mario Kart put together. It shall truly test our bond as companions, only the strongest survive it's trials..” You spoke in a dramatic tone while shuffling the cards and placing the proper numbers out for the both of you. Once you were finished, you placed the extra cards in the middle and looked the Radio Demon square in the eye. “Are you ready?”

“Yes yes,” He replied aloofly. “There isn't any possible way this silly game could cause such a staggering amount of broken relationships. I refuse to believe it's that bad.’

You chuckled bitterly. “You beautiful unsuspecting fool.”

---------------------- ( 2 Hours Later) ---------------------

“That's against the rules!” Alastor hissed underneath his breath as you threw out a fat stack of +2 cards.

“No it's not Alastor, you said you wanted to play stacks and this is how it's played.” You muttered.

The first round between you two consisted of showing Alastor the ropes. The confident man he was, he assured you that the game was easy enough for an infant to play and win effortlessly, especially since he won the first round. You then decide to spice things up by teaching him how to play stacks. He claimed that was easy as well and you allowed him to believe this as the next round consisted of him losing, and so did the next round, and the round after that, and the round after that…

Before you knew it, two hours had gone by and Alastor was determined to beat you at least once. It had gotten so intense that he resorted to taking his tail coat off and even putting his hair up, leaving him in his tight red office shirt and hair that framed his face like the scrumdiddlyumptious being that he was. The sight of his bare arms totally didn't have you blushing up a storm behind your cards.

While he was stewing over his next move, you got to confirm a few fan theories and ogled at his appearance.

Respectfully, of course.

But, the game wasn't over yet. Alastor sat across from you, irritated and with at least eleven cards in his hand, while you had three. The air was tense as he scratched his head and finally decided to throw out a small handful of 8’s, bringing his card count down to five.

Your poker face remained unmoving as you calmly threw out a wild card. “Blue.”

A warble of interference omitted from Alastor's person as his eyes scanned his cards carefully. You were actually surprised at how the tables had turned personality wise. In the beginning, it was Alastor who was calm and collected, but every loss slowly chipped away at the pride that fueled his unwavering persona. His usual smile was now looking more forced, making his disdain obvious.

Throwing out a blue card, you threw out two on top, leaving you with one card as you stated that dreadful word. “Uno.”

With a growl, Alastor tossed out a draw +4. “Red.” He stated blandly. A quick glance at the clock let him know he was late for a meeting with Charlie, but formalities be damned because he was going to win this game.

You took your cards quickly and deemed your hand an amazing one. He replied by tossing out a 2 and leaving three cards left. Victory was close and he swore that once he won he would ‘kindly’ rub it in your face.

But, just as you had been doing for these past five rounds, you had an ace up your sleeve. You tossed out the red ‘Skip’ card, costing Alastor a vital turn that could have turned the tables, only to metaphorically slap him in the face by cheering “Uno!” and dropping your final cards in the middle of the messy deck.

He suppressed a scream of irritation as you did your little victory dance, glaring at you both with gaiety and pure spite. He stood up and snapped his coat back on and his hair back down, he pinched your cheek just a little too hard. “That's enough cutting a rug darling, especially for someone that has two left feet such as yourself.”

“Stop trying to cease my dancing, I must wiggle out my joy.”

With a roll of his eyes, he tuned the radio on to his station to prepare to go back home. “Well you can dance until your heart's content, unfortunately I have to return back home to handle some business.”

Immediately your uncoordinated movements stopped, as you frowned. “Oh, right..”

Part of him felt bad. Not that he would tell you outright, but he didn't exactly want to leave you behind either. The thoughts of what your father could do unannounced made him concerned for your safety, but there wasn't anything he could do. Instead, he smiled genuinely and lifted your gaze up with his finger.

“Chin up, dearest. I shall check on you tomorrow as always and don't forget, you still need to make up your mind about what you want from the options presented to you.”

You didn't reply verbally, but you did nod your head sadly which would have to be enough for now. As he prepared to walk off, he was suddenly stopped by a tight embrace from behind. Anyone else who would have ever dared to think of such a thing would have been a splatter on the wall and he was just about to give you a kind yet serious talk about personal space until he felt something wet soaking through his clothes.

“..Thank you.” You mumbled through the fabric. Inhaling his scent as you sniffled and tried to calm down, honestly you were surprised he didn't push you off.

As mentioned before, emotions were not Alastor's think nor was physical affection. However in this moment, with you crying lightly and hugging him as if he were your only hope of survival, he decided that maybe, just this once, he would let it slide.

For his comfort, you didn't allow the hug to last longer than a minute. Once you pulled away you were embarrassed to say the least and prepared for him to possibly scold or never talk to you again. But, to your surprise, he simply pat your head and whispered, “Sleep tight, cher.”and was gone with a blink of your eyes.

To say you were sad was an understatement, but you knew that he'd be back tomorrow like he was everyday. The idea of talking to him tomorrow. To hear his voice in real time, talking to you and to offer comfort because he actually cared made your heart pound in your chest. As much as you didn't want to think this way, you couldn't help it. He seemed so concerned about you, in a way that no one else has until now.

You did your best to still your beating heart as you began to clean up your fun from earlier, only to find your cards were missing. You looked everywhere and still couldn't find them, ultimately you claimed into bed and decided that maybe Alastor snapped them somewhere you'd never find so that he wouldn't have to loose, I mean, play anymore.

Meanwhile…

“Alastor you're late!” Vaggie snapped as he came waltzing down the stairs, following her to where the rest of the group sat waiting.

“I am aware Vagatha, I was busy doing something else.” He replied calmly, only to make the fallen angel more irritated. “Whatever, I hope you brought something because it's your turn for a group activity today..”

“But of course! How could I forget?” He smiled impishly, before pulling out a red box with a familiar word on it. Once with the rest of the residents, Alastor clapped his hands together and pulled out a chalkboard seemingly out of nowhere.

“For today's activity being hosted by yours truly, we shall all be playing a game suited for bonding and the strengthening of relationships,” He beamed, writing out the title of the game in big letters for everyone to see.

“The name of the game is...UNO!"

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

(Thank you for coming back for Chapter 3# of this story! I hope you stick around for the next one because I plan to make it the last. I've been so busy with life and stuff, it's kinda hard to find time or motivation to write, but I do want this to come to a close while still making room for a bit of fun between Al and the Reader.

For those who asked me to make a tag list, I'm not entirely sure how to 😅. Though I will try to figure it out for the next time I write a short story. Don't forget to leave your opinions behind in the comments and thank you for all the love you guys give me, it means a lot 💜

Stay Tuned! :D

Taglist: @twistedvanillacoffee @diffidentphantom @boldlyenchantingfox22

[alicewritez]

Everything Will Be Alright - Aaron Hotchner

word count: 1012

summary: it’s obvious to hotch how down you’ve been feeling lately, he takes it upon himself to make sure you feel better

Aaron Hotchner x Reader

authors note: a little sad in places but ends happily. fluff. i’m only just getting back into writing so my apologies if there are any mistakes at all. also, maybe drop some ideas of what sort of plot/storyline you’d like to see next! 💕

"Wheels up in thirty."

Within thirty minutes the team were on the jet. Everyone else was sat together, but you were sat off to the side, at the back of the jet alone. You'd been having trouble sleeping recently; you were plagued by nightmares of a past case and, luckily, no one had picked up on them.. yet.

"Are you alright?" Hotch asked, walking over to you, sitting down as he eyed you carefully.

You pull your gaze away from the jet's window and turn to face him, offering him your best forced smile. "Hmm?.. oh yeah.. I'm fine." Hotch stared at your face. You looked so pale, eyes heavy and your smile was clearly forced. It was stupid to try and hide anything from Hotch - he knew everything. "You're not alright." He moved from where he was sat opposite you to directly next to you, looking down at you, his eyes softening further.

"You don't need to worry, I'm fine." You shrug. Hotch stared at you for a little while, he had a look of curiosity in his eyes with a touch of concern, wondering is he should continue with his questioning to get you to open up to him, or if he should change the subject entirely and leave it alone. "You haven't been sleeping well, have you?" He finally decides to speak up after a moment of internal conflict.

"I've not had a great sleep pattern but it could be worse." You answer quietly with a small shrug.

Hotch moved his body slightly closer to yours, wanting you to know that he was there for you if you needed him. "What is keeping you up at night?" He asked, the concern becoming more prominent as he spoke, his eyes locked onto yours.

"I guess I just-" you sigh, "I guess I just don't feel good enough.. I never have done really." Hotch stayed silent for a second, taking a moment to consider what you had said. He could tell you had been carrying this burden; this feeling; for quite some time.

He put his his hand softly on your knee, squeezing it gently as a form of comfort. "Hey.." he stared into your eyes again, with a hint of sadness but comfort in them. He didn't want a world where you didn't think you were good enough. You were more than good enough. "Look at me- really look at me."

Your eyes flicked up to lock with his revealing your unshed tears as you took note of the concern written on his features. Hotch noticed that your eyes had teared up, and he moved his hand up to your face, slowly wiping the tears from your eyes with his thumb. "It's okay.."

He looked at you, he had the same soft, comforting look on his face just like before. "You're good enough to me." He moved his hand to underneath your chin, keeping your gaze locked on his. Your lip trembled a little as the conviction of his words hit you - you were good enough in his eyes, that's all you needed to hear. "Thank you.." your voice failed you as you thanked him, your words coming out in an almost whisper. He saw your bottom lip trembled slightly, and he decided to ease the comfort into his words, and gently pulled you close to him. He held you close, resting his cheek on the top of your head. He then whispered again, so you could barely hear, but you heard clearly all the same. "You're more than good enough in my eyes." He kissed the top of your head, squeezing your hand, before letting go. He looked at you one more time, but then he sighed. "You should try and sleep on the jet."

"What if I don't want to?" You challenge, mumbling into his chest.

Hotch laughed slightly and sighed. He was trying to hide the blush that rose to his cheeks, trying to bite back a wide smile. All he really wanted to do was hold you close to him, which he decided to do anyway, without hesitation. He moved his arm around your shoulders, pulling you slightly closer to him and holding you close. "Sleep on my chest then?" He asks, smirking as he said it.

You smile and decide to tease him. "How could I resist?" He chuckles as you tease him back, wrapping his arms fully around you. He squeezed you gently, but not too hard. He pulled you close so your body was fully leaning against him, your head firmly resting on his chest. He sighed, tilting his head down so he could see your face and so you would meet his gaze. When your eyes locked onto each others, he decided to whisper once more. "Sleep."

You scrunch your nose, you weren't making this easy for him. "But what if I want to stay up and talk with you?"

"I want you to sleep..." he sighed, but was finding it difficult to hide his smile. You were really making his heart beat quicker. "Please.." he looked at you, still with the same soft, comforting look in his eyes, as he asked.

You sigh. "Fine.." you shift until you're firmly resting against him, being overcome by the warmth his body was emanating.. "I love you.." you mumbled sleepily, not realising what you were saying as you fell asleep on his chest.

Hotch froze for a moment, he was surprised at what you'd just confessed, but he was happy at what you had said. He had to hold back his laugh at how cute you looked. When he realised you were asleep, his features softened further. He moved your hair out of your eyes and shifted a little so your face was resting against his chest comfortably as he gently stroked your cheek.

"I love you too.." He whispered, mostly to himself, still stroking your cheek, but you didn't notice, as you were already fast asleep laying against him.

But one thing was for certain, everything would be okay.. because you had Hotch.