#it's for a line no one is even going to notice but dammit i need to get it right

[multiheadcanons]

A POST FOR BRUNCH. TO GIVE A MANN AN EGGS BENEDICT.

medic and pyro peek the corner of the building, mute in motion. and there it stood.

their payload.

a beautifully cared for charcoal grill. with wheels. lit. heating up for one of the team’s weekly meals.

today, they were the enemy.

sniper sat at the furthest picnic table, huntsman in hand. hat straightened. eyes keenly watching the grill through his aviators. even as he looked away, it was never long enough for a real opening. there was no distracting him. not when he’s on grill guard. on the table sat a bullhorn. their only warning.

medic took cover once again as he stared at his comrade, ensuring his medigun, primed with an ubercharge, was out of the sight lines. he double checked he had his saw. he wasn’t sure if he was shaking from nerves, but he knew he wasn’t excited for this. but he needed it. they both did.

“pyro. today is the day. now is the time. we will die. probably many times.” pyro flinched slightly at the horror in the doctor’s voice. “but the only goal— pyro. look at me. the only goal is to not die at the same time. and to get that grill. and when we get our hands on it… we win. we win, right?”

pyro looked at their flamethrower. and felt the weight of the axe on their back. they looked back at medic, giving a shrug and a slow shake of their head. those men are their friends. none of this seemed like a good idea.

“i don’t feel good about it either. but i need this. and i need your help. it isn’t fair that we are banned. we did not entirely mean to start that fire. and dammit… i need an eggs benedict. i need it made correctly. and i’ll make you one. and you will understand. pyro.” the doctor put his gloved hand on pyro’s shoulder. “i am very scared. but we can do this. we grab it. we make our way to the infirmary. once we get our hands on it… we run.” he looked back over his shoulder. the chatter from the men only seemed to build. medic took a deep breath. pyro did the same. they steeled themselves. there was no apologizing their way out of this. “i’ll heal you. get in, get out. you get one warning shot. he won’t land the second. i promise.”

pyro nodded, and as they felt the warm beam of the medigun, they had a comforting thought.

the warmth of the grill is better.

pyro stepped out from around the corner, noticed only by the grill guard, who now gave his full attention. sniper didn’t move until pyro made very pointed steps towards the grill, in which he readied his bow and quickly let an arrow off, whizzing past the mask. the rest of the team ducked at the sudden attack, exclaiming. they had now been alerted. he lowered his weapon, and grabbed the bullhorn.

“pyro. you’re too close, mate. back up.” pyro froze. and the team watched. waited for pyro to back up. they do this sometimes. they never pushed it though. it wasn’t until they heard a familiar “MOVE! SCHNELL!” and saw pyro begin to glow that they understood what was going on, everyone making a mad scramble for the grill. pyro couldn’t bring themselves to set their friends on fire. but that’s what airblast is for. they, in a panic, pushed them back.

and grabbed the grill.

this was a game sniper had been ready to play since they asked him to be on watch during mealtimes. and he sprang into action.

medic joined pyro quickly, medigun at the ready. “keep the flame hot! we have to keep it hot!” that pyro can do, as they made their mad dash for the infirmary. “teleporter in the workshop, go for left entrance!”

and they veered around a corner as the team gave chase. they’d never seen sniper move so fast. he heard left entrance, and followed. as he rounded the corner, he let off another arrow. and sprinted after the sound of a hit medic. he wouldn’t have much time to catch up with the doctor.

luckily he got the man in the leg. but pyro was gone. and so was the grill.

medic grit his teeth in pain. he hissed as he tried to break the arrow to get it out of his leg, and as he turned, he saw the aussie. the doctor glared at him, but sniper’s face was characteristically relaxed. kukri in hand.

“y’know doc. i always knew you were crazy. i didn’t think you were stupid. weird though, looking down at you like this.”

“kill me and you’ll regret it.”

“no i won’t. i’ve thought about this for a long time. see you in hell.”

pyro fled. never taking their eyes off the flame of the grill. they ran to the left entrance, throwing it open to scout. bat in hand. no. no. they were so close. they steeled themselves and hit the ignition.

and frankly that was enough. the hiss of the gas got the bostonian to back up. he did not want to make that trip at all. he knew if the doctor was in there he’s officially a hostage. and pyro continued to run. up and down the maze like halls. they were always directionally challenged. it wasn’t until they heard a irritated aussie call out that they started to panic again, trying to remember which hall led to the infirmary.

“pyro. mate. we don’t have to do this. just leave the grill and we can— ack!” pyro froze again, waiting to hear where sniper was. these were precious seconds they were wasting. but they didn’t want to die for this. they knew sniper was not forgiving on the job.

“pyro!” a german accent called out. “three rights and a left! move! i’ll follow!” with that response, they took off again. one right. two rights. three rights. the german found them on the third right and pulled them into the infirmary hall, hands stained with blood. pyro felt a little better to hear the aussie yell out their destination.

but they got to the infirmary before anyone else could. the tools laid on the operating table. a pot of water. a pan. some vinegar. eggs. butter. english muffins. ham.

“block the door! don’t let them in!” medic yelled. pyro glanced at him, and saw a familiar smile. a gleam of success in his eyes. somewhere along the way, the doctor started having fun with this. that made pyro feel a little better. they nodded, placing their axe between the handles of the infirmary doors, and stood ready as medic began his frantic process of cooking.

he began, eyes split between watching his tools and watching pyro watch the door. pot on the grill. pan on the grill. it needs more heat. “pyro! fuel!” they quickly switch places. he heard the roar of the flame rise higher, and took his place again at the grill. sweltering. much better. he watched the pot begin to bubble. not hot enough. it’ll get there. the doctor tossed in a splash of vinegar, then the still open bottle was slammed down.

he moved to begin the hollandaise as the team rounded the corner to the hall. and pyro removed the axe to face their team.

with their flamethrower prepared, none of them looked happy. if pyro had to guess, they looked tired. and concerned. and pyro stood tall.

“pyro… pyro, we don’t have to do this.” engineer started slowly. “we don’t have to do this. you can step aside, and we’ll just kill the doctor. he knows he’s not allowed near the grill.”

and pyro shook their head.

“now, come on, you were there when he agreed to it, don’t act like this is cruel. he knows the rules. stay out of the kitchen, stay away from the grill.”

pyro cocked their head, exasperated. and did not lower their flamethrower.

“pyro. if you let me through, i can speak to him. perhaps this doesn’t have to end violently.” misha began to make the attempt to approach. a slow step in front of the other. and pyro stood tall, even as his figure grew more imposing. “just let me through.”

pyro stood.

“let me through.”

as misha approached, the team closed distance.

and as pyro stood tall, a distinct voice yelled.

“let them through!”

and as they turned, peering through the small windows on the doors, the first things they saw were plates. and something on them.

that’s when they stopped to take a breath. deep inhale.

god damn…

something smelled good. no, something smelled great!

pyro peeked their head through first.

spread amongst the infirmary table, wheeled in front of the now closed grill was nine plates of eggs benedict. hollandaise sauce spread generously. silverware placed with care.

and the medic stood, smug. hand on hip, leaned against the table with the other. a look of victory.

and he only had to die for it.

“come eat.”

[archives-of-a-hidden-writer]

Gaze of A Being of Afar

Multiple Characters X Reader

(Secretive Plotter, Nanook)

��� [Entry No.029 - Gaze of A Being of Afar]|

》 Location of Entry: Archivial's |

》 Tip: Feel free to support the Archiver |

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》 Summary: In which, while traversing through your adventures, you and your friends couldn’t help but feel a certain being always hovering by the team. Specifically, hovering over you.|

》 Warnings: OOC, not proofread(writer is often too lazy to proofread any of their entries), does this count as stalking? Mmmmmmm space gods.|

》 Archive Entry Loaded ◇

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Sighing to yourself, you lounge with your friends, bored out of your minds with nothing to do. Well, that is until everyone felt a presence with them.

■■■

Secretive Plotter

You attempted to sink further down into the couch as everyone else attempted to find something to do.

It was then a certain man approached you, “Hey, doing something?” Dokja asked you, sitting on the couch as well as he opened his phone, probably scrolling through the novel he read again.

You only sneered in return, obviously bored out of your mind. Noticing your boredom, Dokja gave you a little notice, “Have you noticed, one of the constellations?” he started. You turned towards him in return, “Which one? We know a few of them, remember?” you replied in which Dokja pointed towards the sky through the window close by, a star shining a bit brighter than the others, not incredibly, but it was there.

Still not getting him, your eyebrows furrowed thinking, “That could be anyone, like Uriel…?”

“That’s not her, I would know as her incarnation,” Heewon said, crossing her arms as she approached me and Dokja, “If I were any better I’d say it could be that plotter guy…” she added, followed by Uriel’s message.

[The Constellation ‘Demon-Like Judge of Fire’ lightly held a laugh towards something.]

[The Constellation ‘Demon-Like Judge of Fire’ asks if you have noticed anything.]

“Notice anything about what? Every one of you is confusing me…” you grumbled, looking around as everyone looked at you with slight shock, even Uriel was a bit shocked.

“You really haven’t noticed everything?” Heewon asked just as Jihye joined beside Heewon, asking what was going on before Heewon explained to her the premise.

Jihye, the ever so cheerful yet something of a woman, spoke without a thought, “Oh, you mean you haven’t noticed that one constellation hovering over you like he’s your sponsor?” Jihye asked, causing everyone to freeze while you looked at her in shock.

[The Constellation ‘Demon-Like Judge of Fire’ lets out a squeak before lightly asking to be careful.]

You didn’t even need to ask about what Uriel meant by ‘be careful’ when you felt the atmosphere around everyone suddenly thickens, the star Dokja pointed to earlier slightly flickered.

You couldn’t even fathom what you just heard, Secretive Plotter? That mysterious constellation? Hovering over me when he wasn’t even my sponsor? But now that you think about it, the constellation has been talking to you through the pings, but you always thought he was just like that to everyone, apparently not.

“Dammit…” you cursed, connecting everything.

“You finally realized, huh?” Heewon said, hearing you curse. You nodded in reply before speaking, “I thought he was just like that to anybody else…” you reasoned, but then you got a reply.

[The Constellation ‘Secretive Plotter’ scoffed at your line of thoughts.]

[The Constellation ‘Secretive Plotter’ calls you oblivious.]

[The Constellation ‘Demon-Like Judge of Fire’ chuckled at the Constellation ‘Secretive Plotter’ for getting worked up over this.]

Worked up over what? You thought to yourself before Heewon patted your shoulder, “It’s up to you on this one now,” she said before she walked away, followed by Jihye, who seemed to give a peace sign before following Heewon.

You looked over towards Dokja for any help on what the constellations are talking about, who only shrugged his shoulders and left, leaving you with your thoughts and the constellation everyone is saying to be interested in you.

“What even is going on…?” you grumbled, slumping into the couch further again.

[The Constellation ‘Secretive Plotter’ scoffed at you.]

You scoffed in return, this constellation is giving you mixed signals, it is confusing.

“Alright, what do you want? I don’t… I don’t get this entire thing, heck, you’re not even my sponsor!” you grumbled, raising your hands up.

[The Constellation ‘Secretive Plotter’ retorts that you haven’t chosen any constellation to be your sponsor.]

You stared at the message in confusion, is this what it’s all about?

As if reading your thoughts, Secretive Plotter sent another ping.

[The Constellation ‘Secretive Plotter’ tells you that it won’t be long until you need one.]

Wow, rude. You thought to yourself as Uriel -who is seemingly still here instead of with her sponsor- replied to you for him.

[The Constellation ‘Demon-Like Judge of Fire’ translated Constellation ‘Secretive Plotter’s words.]

[The Constellation ‘Secretive Plotter’ wishes for you to be the Constellation’s Incarnation by the Constellation ‘Demon-like Judge of Fire’.]

You stared dumbfoundedly at what Secretive Plotter meant by his words from Uriel’s, were you that interested towards him?

“Is that… Really what this is?” you asked towards Secretive Plotter, who took a few moments to answer, seemingly deciphering what to say before swallowing down the constellation’s stubbornness.

[The Constellation ‘Secretive Plotter’ confirmed the Constellation ‘Demon-Like Judge of Fire’s words.]

[The Constellation ‘Secretive Plotter’ yields that he found you interesting from the rest of the incarnations.]

You huffed, smiling at the message. So, all that ‘hovering’, he found you interesting. The mysterious constellation found you interesting.

Still in thought, you were brought out when the constellation sent another message.

[The Constellation ‘Secretive Plotter’ threatens you to not tell this to anyone.]

Chuckling in reply, you shrugged, seemingly making the atmosphere thicken once more, “I don’t know, I could keep a secret, but I don’t know about Uriel,” you answered.

[The Constellation ‘Secretive Plotter’ grumbled in agreement.]

You could only chuckle again at his reply.

■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■

Nanook : Honkai Starrail

The train of the Astral Express had been quieter than before, Welt and Himeko lightly conversing on the other side of the lounging area, Pom-Pom somewhere else in the train, Dan Heng inside the data bank once more, and March, Caelus, and Stelle were talking around the pictures March had taken.

Meanwhile, you quietly napped on the slightly curved couch of the lounge, arms crossed, napping away. March even managed to snap a few photos while Himeko chuckled from where she was with Welt.

It was all of a sudden you snapped awake, flinching back at you awoke, immediately looking down on the palm of your hand as it was now seemingly containing particles of what seemed to be golden sand.

March and the two knuckleheads approached you in concern, noticing you jerk awake.

“Hey, are you okay? You woke up pretty hard,” March asked, the two however, stayed quiet as they noticed the particles in your hands before looking back at each other. They knew.

“Sorry, not really a good dream happened,” you apologized, rubbing the back of your neck, trying to seemingly act alright.

Then Stelle called your name and pointed towards the golden sand in the palm of your hand, “Are you aware of this?” She asked, Caelus looking at you with a similar question in mind. It didn't take another minute for Himeko and Welt to approach you guys.

“What is it?” Welt asked before noticing the sand as well.

“It was from Nanook, wasn't it?” Caelus asked, already knowing the answer as you nod.

“But, hey, I'm fine. It's alright, THEY didn't do anything to me, just had me there in the palm of THEIR hand…” you reasoned with them as if your words were the most normal thing combined.

The team looked at you in shock as they took in your word. The Aeon of Destruction? Nanook himself? Let a mortal -a nameless and a trailer of the path of trailblazing- chill by THEM? While THEY were possibly creating destruction and havoc on another far side of the universe?

You seemed concerned and worried for their reactions -and yourself- and decided to speak, “Was it bad?” You asked, voice slightly wavering.

“Sweetie, you told us an aeon, Nanook at that, allows you to be at the palm of THEIR hand while they possibly cause destruction with THEIR other hand…” Himeko slowly explained, followed by Welt and Caelus nodding.

“How long has this been happening?” Stelle asked, shaking hands pointing at you. There's no way the first aeon who gave THEIR gaze at Stelle and Caelus was now chilling with a human.

“... Ever since I joined the astral express…?” You slowly answered, earning another wave of dumbfounded looks from them.

“Daily?!” March asked, you nodded, “I never thought about it… Should I-”

“Yes, you should,” Welt said rather concerningly, now dumbfounded at your obliviousness at the situation.

It was then they felt the train rumble, lights flickering as everyone stopped hogging you to look around until March exclaimed pointing at the window behind me.

“G-guys, is it me… O-or the stars are aligning to look like…” March trailed off, Caelus and Stelle noticed it as well, then Himeko and Welt.

It was then when you turned, your eyes widened in surprise.

The stars, they did align themselves to create an outline of something, or someone. Soon, a figure was formed by the stars.

“No shot…” Stelle muttered, recognizing the figure outlined by the stars.

Nanook.

THEY were there. THEIR eyes narrowing down, seemingly towards you.

“Well, I'll be damned,” you uttered to yourself as golden sand seemed to float along the insides of the train, followed by a panicked Pom-pom who had also noticed the aeon's gaze on the express.

As Pom-pom found themselves behind Welt, they seemed to have their guard up the moment the golden sand started to appear more and float throughout the express.

Seeing everyone's guarded expression, you turned back towards the aeon who seemed to have moved THEIR hand and pointed towards you.

Confused, you were about to speak until the sand within the express started to clump together, forming into something and dropping it above your head and down onto your hand.

“Ow…” you muttered before noticing what had just appeared on you.

A necklace, simple yet gave off the strongest of power, glowing ever so brightly by the gem adorning the middle, a bright yellow color, akin to the eyes of the Aeon of Destruction or the large scar adorning THEIR chest.

“What…” you asked confusingly as you turned back towards the outline of the aeon, whose eyes seemed to narrow further before disappearing, the stars dragging themselves back to their original places.

Still confused -and now dumbfounded by what Nanook, the entire aeon, gave you- Dan Heng entered the lounge with a surprise look on his face.

“I saw the sand before it all disappeared, what happened? Did anyone get hurt?” Dan Heng asked, inspecting everyone with his eyes.

Himeko shook her head, smiling, “Everyone is alright, we just…” Himeko trailed off, turning towards you who's attention was still on the necklace given to you by the aeon.

“We just witnessed that our dear nameless over here received a courting gift from the Aeon of Destruction.”

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》 Archiver's Notes: Random fic because I miss these two(As if one of them isn't literally the main reason of the curent story in lore)

[reignpage]

“Y’r a real clumsy pain in the ass, ya know that?” Toji’s making tsk sounds every time he finds a new scrape to clean up. It’s funny to see him look so concentrated – his brows are furrowed, he’s gripping your limbs firmly but gently, careful of his finger placements, and prodding here and there, determining if you need to go to the hospital. “Why’dya even think it was a good idea to go skateboarding? Fuck do you know about that?”

Ah, man. He’s really pissed. He rarely ever gets worked up like this. Sure, he gets annoyed or irritated – the man has the patience of a child, after all – but there’s a frantic quality to his movements, a hesitation before he applies the alcohol on your wounds, and a telltale dart of his eyes at your face after, searching for a wince or a flinch. 

Your thumb flies up, smoothing that wrinkle between his eyebrows. “If you get any more tense, you’ll blow a fuse, Toji.”

He grabs your wrist tight, scoffs, and then lays a frustrated kiss on the inside. 

“Whose goddamn fault is that? Fucking losing my mind here ‘cause you can’t be trusted to act like an adult. Turn my back for one shitty second and then y'r all crumpled up on the concrete, crying like a baby. Was worried you’d lose all your blood.”

The kitchen counter is cold beneath your legs and he must notice because a heavy hand of his rubs some warmth on one of your thighs, squeezing for comfort. 

Sheepish, you mumble an apology. 

“Sorry?” He’s flabbergasted in a way you've never seen him be. You almost want to laugh. “Don’t make that face. None of this is funny, ya damn brat.”

"It looked easy online! Everyone's doing it."

He makes an unamused sound. "If they tell you to jump, would ya?"

"Yeah, probably."

Not finding that funny in the slightest, he shoots you a glare. "Y'r a comedian now, are ya? And what? Y’r body's the punch line, that it? You just gonna throw it around everywhere without a single care in the world?"

Still feeling defensive, you pout. "Yeah, if I want. It's my body."

"No." His fist slams on the counter. The vibrations rattle your bones. "It's my body. It's the body of the woman I love. The body I feed, I hold at night, the body I need with me. My woman, my body. So, dammit, take care of it, will ya?"

Your eyes are rolling before you can help yourself. "You're being dramatic."

“Look at me.” He pinches your chin. There’s a silencing sincerity in his eyes. It’s serious, frenzied, pleading. It steals your breath, forcing you to the present and washing away that veil of courage you blanketed yourself under. The sting of all your wounds come to you like a wave, sweeping you under. Your injuries must have been worse than you first realised. “You can make light of this all you want, but you didn’t see what I saw. Didn’t hear what I heard – fuck, baby. You were crying. I ain’t never hear you sound like that before. And I don’t want to again. It broke my fucking heart.”

Jaw clenching, he eyes you all over, shaking his head. He still can’t believe this happened — scrapes like these aren’t meant for women, especially not his brilliant girl, who smiles too often and loves too much. His precious girl.

Every day, he worries over how hard he squeezes you in a hug, how much weight he’s putting on you when you cuddle, and how fast he moves when you’re around. This is the body he worships day in and day out and just like that, he’s reminded once again of how easily he could lose it all. How easily he could lose you.

Toji’s head falls onto your lap. His arms wrap around your hips. From your view, he looks somewhat like a child. He kisses your thigh, inhales deeply, and burrows his face tighter against you as if reminding himself you’re here and you’re okay and he’s not letting this happen again. 

“I’m sorry, Toji. Really.”

He scoffs again. God, he needs to stop doing that. “Yeah, you will be. ‘Cause I’m tying y’r uncoordinated ass to me. So if you wanna go down, y’r taking me with ya.”

“Deal.”

[vodka-and-tvshows]

When I'm writing fic I usually have a bunch of tabs open of wiki from that fandom because I like to have my details right. But now I can't, for the life of me, find something so I'm just... Whipping out the source material and hoping i marked a page

[witchywcmans]

NEEDY. | AKI HAYAKAWA

synopsis ━━ you were in need of a roommate, and aki hayakawa needed a place that wouldn't ask any questions. you went to work during the day, while aki worked late nights. you basically had the apartment to yourself. it was honestly a match made in heaven. but then, you just had to come home one day and catch your roommate in a precarious situation. (aki x f!reader.)

content warnings ━━ voyeurism (just a wee bit), sex-deprived aki 🫶, but also possessive + jealous aki, masturbation, dirty thoughts + wet dreams, fingering, praise, multiple orgasms, classic missionary, unprotected sex, creampie, mutual pining/confession, kinda au (we're not mentioning the gun devil arc), aki has lived to see 26 + reader being a similar age, some religious imagery. nsfw (minors + ageless blogs dni).

word count ━━ 5.1k

song inspiration ━━ dealer, lana del rey / friends, chase atlantic / double fantasy, the weeknd

author's note ━━ hi.....hello.........so this idea has been in my head for a little bit, and I realize roommate aus like this are simply not that original, but god dammit I just needed to get this out of my head. anyway, I lurrrrrv sex deprived aki. shout out to my friend hollis for screaming about this with me hehe 💓

The most words you had ever said to your roommate were on the day you interviewed him before he moved in. You immediately noticed that he was strange, but also shy and seemingly harmless. When you had asked why he needed to move in so quickly, he had said something along the lines of a “toxic environment” with his previous roommates: “Denji and Power are just too noisy and reckless. They’re four years younger than me. I need a place less chaotic.” You had been interested in getting to know more – you were curious, after all, about your potential roomie – but once he mentioned that you’d probably never see him because he worked nights, you were sold.

Aki Hayakawa was your new roommate.

He had never been more excited to finally get away from Denji and Power and the tumultuous mess they had turned his apartment into. He was older now; he needed something for himself, even if it was with a roommate. Being a Public Safety Devil Hunter, he needed a place that didn’t think twice about him, a roommate who didn’t ask questions. That’s what he liked about you: your place was on the right side of the city, and you looked at him like he was normal. The Fox Devil said you weren’t going to be good for him, but Aki tended to ignore them anyway.

You had helped him move into your second bedroom just a week later and he hardly said a word, except to ask you who had formerly occupied this space. You were hesitant to talk about it at first, but you cracked soon enough: “My old best friend lived in here. We had rented this place together, but we … aren’t exactly speaking anymore,” you admitted, setting a box down at his feet. “I came home from work one evening and found my boyfriend cheating on me with her. It had been going on for months, right under my nose.” You looked away when you felt your eyes start to sting with tears, sniffling them away. “Friends come and go, I guess. But I’m thankful you, at least, worked out to rent this space.”

“Well,” he sighed, opening up the box as you turned back to him. He smirked. “I promise I won’t sleep with your boyfriend.”

You had laughed, and what a pretty sound it was. After move-in day, Aki was true to his word that you almost never saw him. You worked a normal 9 to 5, while Aki … well, you had no idea what Aki did. You assumed he was a security guard or something with the hours he worked and how he was always wearing a suit and tie. He was working all the time, even weekends. Sometimes, you would catch him coming home as you were leaving for work, or on Sunday morning as you ate breakfast in the kitchen. He would be too tired to talk, simply waving at you before retiring to his room.

It was almost like living alone … except for notes he’d sometimes leave you on the stove or the bathroom. Or the weekend mornings, when he’d get you a coffee and leave it out for you before going to his room. Or the once-in-a-blue-moon nights when you’d stumble in the early hours of the morning after drinking in the city with some friends, standing out on the deck with Aki as he smoked a cigarette. Nights like those, you could’ve sworn Fate was trying to get you two to see each other, because you would be arriving home at just the right hour and Aki would be getting off work early. And you would find him on the deck in his suit and tie, cigarette hanging from his lips, hair pulled up in his classic topknot. He would find you leaning against the railing in nothing but a short dress, the glitter on your lids making your eyes sparkle even more, and – god, you were just so pretty.

After that night, he started dreaming about you. He dreamed about how your lips would feel against his, what it would be like to have you sleep next to him and rest your head on his chest. He was consumed by thoughts of you under him, how you tasted, the way you’d tremble if he kissed that sensitive part of your neck you told him about one late night on the deck. His need for you was insatiable. In his line of work, there wasn’t much time for dating, let alone sex. He hadn’t been thinking about it that much, especially when he’d been housing Denji and Power, but now … he couldn’t stop thinking about you. Naked. Underneath him. On top. God dammit, he’d have you any way you wanted.

It made him wish he had acted on his instincts that night on the deck: pushing you against the sliding door, his lips crashing onto yours, hiking your skirt up that just barely covered your thighs and using his non-dominant hand (the one that didn’t shake) to feel how wet you were. But alas, Aki Hayakawa was a gentleman. 

You two had been living together for a year. He hardly knew you, but also knew you like nobody else did. He knew how you took your coffee – black with two sugars. He knew the brand of toilet paper you liked. He knew that you liked to hang your coats in the closet on the right side. He knew you drooled in your sleep, and what TV shows made you laugh, and how much your water bill was each month.

He was acting out in ways that were unlike him. If he came home from work and saw you had a guy over, he made his presence known. When you were at the office, sometimes he would go to your room just to smell your perfume, and other times he would steal your panties. (He always gave them back, feeling too shameful. But he did keep one underneath his pillow.) Some nights, he would pretend to leave for work early and you would retire to your room for the night, and then he would hear the familiar sound of your vibrator and – fuck, he had to go to work hard. Again. 

You were taking up too much space in his head. He was becoming distracted at work, thinking about what you were doing during these late hours. Maybe the Fox Devil was right: you weren’t good for him.

But he wasn’t moving out any time soon.

It was a Thursday after work and you were completely exhausted. After attending endless meetings and having to argue with coworkers all day, you left work early and were grateful to have a night alone with some leftovers from the night before. You had completely forgotten Aki telling you earlier in the week that he had this Thursday and Friday off, your mind preoccupied with work responsibilities. Sighing as soon as you walked through the door, you set your bag down and shuffled out of your shoes. You shut the door softly, at peace with the silence. You didn’t even have the energy to get out of your work clothes; you simply padded your feet to the fridge, plucking your leftovers out. It was only when you reached up to the microwave that you noticed the apartment wasn’t as silent as you assumed.

Sounds emanated from another room.

You got on your tip-toes, not wanting to make much noise if there was an intruder, and felt for the pocket knife you always kept on your person. Passing by your bedroom first, you popped your head inside. Empty. Hadn’t been touched since you left this morning. The bathroom was next, and you held your breath as the sounds got even more noticeable. You peeked into the bathroom and … clear. Linen closet: clear. Coat closet: clear. But the sounds only became more clear as you got closer to the end of the hall, Aki’s room, and –

You stopped in front of Aki’s bedroom, the door cracked just enough that you didn’t need to pop your head in to see what was happening. Aki was home, for once, and you … you were watching him through the crack in the door. But how could you not? You knew where the sounds were coming from now, because Aki was the one making them.

His dark hair swept in front of his eyes as he sat back against his pillows. He wore a white t-shirt, while his boxers bagged around his ankles. Grunts slipped from his mouth – that pretty, pretty mouth you'd seen wrapped around a cigarette. And his hand … his hand wrapped around his cock, pumping furiously – desperately – with a pair of your panties enveloping the head. The same red lace panties you thought you’d lost months ago. 

You almost considered walking away, making noise in the kitchen so he would know you were home, but then –

Then, your name left his mouth in a whimper.

He was stroking himself even faster, muttering your name into the silent room with your panties wrapped so nicely around his cock. He was thinking about you, wanting so desperately cum in your panties, wondering if you thought about him when you used your vibrator. You were frozen in place, completely fixated on him as he leaned back against his headboard, his face finally exposed so you could see the way his jaw went slack, the way he moaned out your name. And – oh my god, you should leave –

But you couldn’t. And deep down, you knew there was a dirty part of you that always wanted to see this. Ever since that night on the deck, when you were wearing your favorite dress and all that glitter, and you noticed that he was looking at you in a way a platonic roommate definitely shouldn’t. You had started to think about him late nights when you were alone with your toy. You brought home dates, wanting him to see, giggling when you recognized his jealous expression. You tried to wake up earlier, just to see him when he stumbled through the door. Once, you even did his laundry to smell the nicotine on his jacket. 

The two of you simply couldn’t help yourselves.

And when you watched him finally reach his peak, spilling into your forgotten red lace panties, you realized just how wet the ones you were wearing had become. You watched him grunt as he came, breathing heavily and wiping the sweat off his brow. And when he muttered under his breath a soft, “Fuck,” you couldn’t help the short gasp that left your lips.

Aki stalled. Oh, shit. You hadn’t been quiet enough. He sat up more in his bed, pulling his boxers up, and you whipped your back against the wall. You cupped your hand over your mouth, praying he wouldn’t come out and see. But he was whispering, “Who’s there?” And you only had enough time to move ten feet down the hall before you heard the creak of his soles on the old floorboards.

“Fuck,” he muttered, louder this time.

Your back went straight, and after what felt like an eternity, you slowly turned to face him. “Aki,” you put your hands up in surrender, “I didn’t see anything –”

“Oh, what the fuck,” he shook his head at himself, quickly walking back into his bedroom. You were stunned, not knowing what to do, as he continued talking to himself in the room: “Stupid fucking idiot not closing the fucking door. What the fuck? What the fuck? My worst fucking nightmare. Fuck, why do these pants always get caught around my ankles? I need to get out of here. Stay at Denji’s for the night. Fuck, fuck, fuck –”

He emerged from his bedroom, now wearing jeans, his favorite Converse, and a leather jacket. He tried to pass you without looking, whispering obscenities under his breath, but then you were tugging on his jacket, lips pressed together.

Aki paused, cheeks red with both embarrassment and anger at himself, but you didn’t let go of his sleeve. He noticed the redness of your face as well, the black of your pupils almost covering your entire eye, and were you … were you aroused?

Swallowing hard, your voice was but a mere whisper when you asked, “How long have you had those?”

He knew what you were referring to. It didn’t take an idiot. Your stares were locked, and despite his shame, he wouldn’t turn away. “A while,” he mumbled.

“How long is ‘a while?’”

“Months, okay?” His eyes narrowed and his voice took on a new tone. “Now, can you let go of my jacket so I can leave and save us both the embarrassment –”

“Months,” you repeated, licking the corners of your lips. His eyes were made of blue fire as he stared down at you, and even with your office attire on, you felt utterly naked beneath his gaze. “I’ve … I’ve been thinking about you for months too.”

Aki took a moment to process your words, and your grip hesitantly released on his sleeve. But he wasn’t – he couldn’t – let you get away so easily. His breath was shaky as he placed both of his hands on the wall behind you, pinning you to it. So many times had you two passed each other in this hallway, so many words left unsaid. And now, he was pressing you against it.

“You’ve been thinking about me … for months,” he thought out loud, leaning in a little and nosing your hair. Your scent was intoxicating. That perfume … he could cum in his pants just from smelling it. “For months, you’ve been bringing guys to the apartment to … to what? Make me jealous?” He chuckled under his breath. It took him so long to put it together. “For months, you’ve been touching yourself right before I leave so I go to work fucking hard.” His nose traveled down to your neck, grazing that spot you told him about, and you shuddered. “You’ve been putting me through the wringer and I didn’t even have a clue.”

“You’re … you’re not so innocent.” You tried to keep yourself together, but it was difficult with him pinning you to the wall and – oh, he was already hard in his pants, pressing into you.  “You’ve been stealing my panties so you can masturbate with them.”

Aki hummed quietly, pressing his lips so delicately to your neck, as if his cock wasn’t completely strained in his jeans. “I supposed I have,” he whispered against your skin, “for months.”

“Since that night on the deck,” you croaked out, hands balling into fists as he licked a stripe up your neck. If he didn’t stop, you’d surely moan. “But I didn’t say anything – didn’t think about saying anything – because … because we’re roommates.”

“We are roommates,” he said, lifting his head from your neck, his lips hovering so close to yours. “And if we’re just stating facts here, I’ve needed to kiss you since that night.”

You didn’t wait for him. Immediately leaning in, your lips pressed onto his in a hungry kiss. His mouth molded to yours, and he tasted exactly like you thought: like black coffee, cigarettes, those raspberry pastries he always kept in the kitchen. His tongue, slipping into your mouth, tangled with yours in a way that you had only dreamed about. Your hands released from their fists, instead reaching up to twist in his t-shirt, bringing him even closer to you. He’d hardly touched you and you were completely, utterly soaked. 

As if hearing your thoughts, his lips broke from yours for just a moment to beg, “I need to touch you.”

“Please,” you whispered back, and his mouth was back on yours.

He dragged one hand down from the wall (his shaky hand, believe it or not), still pressing you against it, and worked on unzipping your trousers. You nuzzled your nose against his as he kissed you deeply, slipping his hand in your pants, past the waistband of your panties and – you were exactly as he dreamed you’d be. Absolutely wet. Just as needy for him as he was for you. “Fuck,” he muttered into the kiss, spreading your soaked folds with two long fingers. 

Your lips tore away from his, a trail of spit following, because you simply had to release the moan you’d been holding in for so long. Despite loving the way your mouth fitted against his, he was glad for it, wanting to see your face when he started rubbing your sensitive clit. And fuck, was it the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. Your fists on his t-shirt went loose as your body felt like it was made of liquid, angling into his. Your lips pursed, soft whimpers filtering out as he rubbed you in those tight circles.

“So fucking wet f’me,” he mumbled, grazing his lips over yours. “Dreamed about this for months. Fuck, I’ve gotten hard just thinking about this pussy.”

He finally dipped a single finger inside you, and your hips immediately jerked against his hand. Aki let out a shuddering breath when he felt how much you were squeezing just one finger, pumping it in and out of you slowly. “Please,” you whispered, despite his thoughts, “I can take more. I promise.”

You didn’t need to ask him twice. He shoved two fingers inside you, curling them against that spot that had your hips instantly bucking. “Fuck, Aki,” you whined as he plunged those fingers in and out of you, using his thumb to rub your clit. 

“Yeah?” He breathed. 

“Kiss me.”

Aki moaned from your words alone, kissing you hard while fucking you with his long fingers. He was practically drunk on you: your scent wrapped around him, you tasted like citrus, and the way bucked into his hand … god, he needed to fuck you. So bad. And if you didn’t want that, then he needed to jerk himself off immediately or else he was going to explode in his pants. The last thing he needed was another embarrassing moment tonight.

It only took seconds to have you sighing into the kiss, squeezing his fingers like a vice as you came. His thumb on your clit was relentless, taking you over that lovely peak, as you mewled and cried into his mouth. It was almost religious, the way you moaned, and Aki had never felt closer to God than in this moment.

When the adrenaline subsided, he slowly removed his fingers from you and broke the kiss. You watched him intensely as he brought the fingers covered in your slick to his mouth, tasting you. Your lips fell open slightly, eyes going wide while his own closed, savoring the taste. What the actual fuck, you thought to yourself. How the fuck have we been living under the same roof and it took this long for me to see that?

Without missing a beat, you pushed yourself off the wall, winding your arms around his neck and latching your legs to his waist. He lifted you as if you were made of air, kissing you so that you could taste yourself. Before you could even perceive how much time had passed, you were on his bed, blouse disheveled and trousers undone. Even your hair hadn’t left the updo you put it in every weekday. Your eyes flickered to the right and you giggled to yourself. He had finally shut the door.

His eyes remained on you as he shrugged off his jacket, and then his pants. He was back in the same outfit you saw him in earlier, when your panties had been wrapped around his cock like a birthday present. He hesitated before finally pulling off his shirt, and you saw the scars lining parts of his chest. Definitely not a security guard, you thought to yourself but decided not to ask about it now. You reached up as he stood between your legs, brushing your fingers over the scars, and then dragged them down his abdomen. His frame was thin, but he was more built than you believed, always hiding himself under those oversized button-ups.

He wrapped his hand around your wrist as you touched him so gracefully. “Do you want to …?” His voice was so soft, the question hanging off the edge of his tongue.

And then, you smiled up at him, looking like an angel. “Yes, Aki,” you whispered.

He felt like a kid in a candy store. The only thing – the one person – he’d been dreaming about and looked at him as if he weren’t a machine, or a gun with the trigger pulled, was lying before him and liked him. For months, they’d both said. His dominant hand was shaking as he started unbuttoning your blouse, and when you noticed (though you had observed this the day he moved in), you grabbed his hand and placed it on your cheek. With his left hand and your right, you worked together to undo the buttons until your chest was exposed for him. 

Moonlight streamed through his bedroom, the only light source in a seemingly dark area.  City lights reflected on you as you pulled your hair free from the updo, those pretty strands fanning on his sheets. His sheets. Because you were in his bed. The blinking lights from corporate buildings outside your little apartment created a halo around your head and – fuck, you really were something religious. For so long, Aki thought only hell existed. I mean, all the Devils were here, contracted to them. But seeing you splayed out so heavenly for him on his bed, he knew then that Angels had to exist too. 

He took his time taking your pants off, watching the way you bit your lip when the cold air of his room hit your soaked panties. Your eyes glanced up to his boxers, seeing the indent of his long, thick cock, and your mouth went dry. His fingers hooked on the waistband of your panties, slowly dragging down and throwing them off to the side, hoping you’d forget about them so he could pocket another pair. With you exposed and bare on his bed, he really took a moment to admire you: the way your cheeks flushed, how the halo around your head flickered, the way your arousal seeped out of your pretty pussy and your nipples peaked. He just had to touch you; it would kill him if he didn’t. Leaning down, he began peppering kisses on your neck, your collarbone, before finally latching his lips around one of those sensitive nipples. Your breath stuttered at the sensation, and he used his left hand to palm your other breast, twisting the nipple between two fingers. You writhed under him, and he couldn’t help but grind his clothed cock against you, groaning and swirling his tongue around your nipple in tandem. Locking your legs around his waist, you held him to you so he was forced to keep grinding against you. It felt too good, and he wasn’t even inside you yet.

He tugged on your nipple and released it, breathing heavily as his eyes met yours. “If you don’t let me go, I’m definitely going to cum before I’m even inside you.”

“Poor Aki,” you giggled, letting your legs fall back on the bed. “Would that really be so bad?”

His eyes were burning into yours, serious as a heart attack. “I’ve been fucking my hand to the thought of you for what feels like forever,” he whispered, pressing a light kiss to the valley between your breasts. “I don’t want to ruin this moment.”

Aki moved up so that his lips were hovering over yours again, and he could really see the sparkle of your irises in the moonlight. You reached in between your bodies and gingerly massaged his bulge, feeling how much he’d already soaked his boxers with precum. “You couldn’t ruin anything even if you tried,” you replied, your voice light and airy. “I’m on the pill. I’m ready when you are.”

“Shit,” he groaned at your mention of being on the pill, trembling as you massaged him. This had to be another one of his dreams. Just the thought of being inside you without the barrier of a condom … he was so close to completely exploding. He didn’t deserve this, didn’t deserve you, after all the hell he’d witnessed and brought forth into this world. But he couldn’t help himself. He needed to have you, roommates be damned.

He stood up, needing to get away from your gentle hand. You sat up a little to help him tug down his boxers, careful of that shaky hand of his, and his cock sprang free, dripping precum on the floor. Aki, ever the gentleman, laid you back down on his bed with ease, holding your stare as he spread your legs wide for him. He breathed, praying to whatever god placed you in front of him that he wouldn’t cum prematurely. He couldn't remember the last time he had sex, but he was so desperate for you that all he cared about was not tainting this moment, this dream. 

Aki grasped his cock, giving it a few hard pumps and grunting, before positioning himself at your entrance. You both seemed to hold your breath as he finally slid in, just an inch at first, and the two of you seemed to release that shaky, nervous breath. “Oh, fuck,” he groaned, burying himself further in your tight warmth, bracing his elbows beside your head. 

“Keep going,” you begged. “It’ll fit, Aki. Promise.”

You were going to kill him, he was sure of it. Aki had felt the way you squeezed his fingers, but it was nothing compared to pleasure of being inside you, feeling how tight you really were. So much better than his hand. Once he was fully seated inside you, he opened his eyes just to look into yours. Your lips pursed, legs wrapping around his waist once again, and you slowly nodded for him to continue. His cock twitched.

“You’re going to be the death of me,” he muttered, sliding out of you before slamming back in. You cried out, carding your fingers in his hair, and he molded his face in the crook of your neck to muffle his own whimpers. You just felt so, so good – so good that he could cry. To think that his bed had once been so cold, so lonely, but now you were occupying the space, trembling underneath him as his cock slipped in and out of you. 

Your moans were like gospel. For so long, Aki had been used to loud noise: to Denji’s complaints, to Power’s shouting, to the Devils’ in his ear. But now, it was just you two on the altar of your apartment, silent except for your heavy breaths mingling and the sound of car horns outside. You were wet and slick like holy water, taking him so nicely despite his size, and god – it was like you were made for him and he was made for you. 

You tugged on his hair, needing him so badly even though he was already yours to begin with. He really would have you any way you wanted. All you had to do was ask.

Aki was already so close to release, but he needed you to cum with him. As he fucked into you harder, deeper, his cock curving against that spot that made your eyes roll back, he reached in between you two and found that swollen bundle of nerves in the apex of your thighs. “Aki,” you whined, tears pricking at your eyes as he rubbed your clit. He could die happily now that he heard your voice like that in his ear, knowing it was him that made it happen.

“Yes?” He said, breathless, placing sloppy kisses on your jaw. You clung to him, melting into him like ice cream on a hot summer’s day. “I’m so close. Are you close, angel?”

You whimpered at the nickname. “Almost.”

“Almost?” He fingers went a little faster. “Let’s get you there.”

As his two fingers rubbed tight, small circles on your clit, he angled his cock inside of you so that he could brush your G-spot with every thrust. You were now clutching onto him with all the strength you had left, entwining your body with his and feeling his muscles flex against your stomach. He was so deep now and you were so close and oh my god, Aki Hayakawa had you like putty in his hands.

And it was like he knew it without you even saying it. Because as your walls started to clench around him, he whispered into your ear. “Cum for me, angel. Please, please, need to cum with you.”

Your body convulsed, going tight around his cock as you came. Tears streamed down your cheeks and you called out his name, spurring him to fuck into you faster, reaching his own peak in the middle of yours. He groaned deep into your neck, hips stuttering as he spilled himself inside of you. You kept your legs around his waist, not wanting to miss a drop, and arched yourself against him, coming down from the high of your intense orgasm. Aki was still rubbing your clit slowly, whispering praises into your skin like, “Did so good me … So pretty … Could listen to you cum for hours.”

You two laid like that for a while, feeling his cock soften inside you, panting heavily against each other. Once he finally pulled out of you, your combined releases dripping down your thighs, you laid beside each other on his bed and stared at the ceiling. The silence was comforting, until he whispered, “Please, tell me that wasn’t all a dream.”

Turning your head, you smiled at him. “Do you feel this?” You pinched his arm.

Aki flinched. “Ow.”

“Definitely not a dream,” you chuckled.

[sincerelyneo]

hiiii will you repost your old haechan frat boy fic 🫣

i'm not sure if this is the one you were talking about, but it's the only google doc i had of haechan in a college au.

all bark no bite | l.hc

❯ summary: Lee Haechan is the most annoying man you’ve ever encountered. But that doesn’t mean you don’t find him hot; and maybe that’s why he has you flat on his mattress one night at a random frat party.

❯ pairings: haechan x fem!reader

❯ genre: college!au, rivals, smut.

❯ words: 2.5k

❯ tags: 18+ minors dni!, smut, angst, hate sex, oral sex (female receiving), unprotected sex (wrap it up !), pet names, excessive use of the name ‘baby’ and ‘princess’, begging, dirty talk, reader uses she/her pronouns, haechan is very cocky, haechan 1000% has a crush on the reader.

Lee Haechan is an asshole. A condescending, irritating asshole who knows exactly how to get on your fucking nerves and—

“God — fucking — dammit—!”

— is currently the asshole pressing you against his mattress.

Truth be told, you don’t even know how you got here. You remember being shoved in a closet with him for Seven Minutes in Heaven at some random frat party his friends were throwing, but you for sure as hell remember absolutely refusing to kiss him.

“Why not?” He’d sneered, folding his arms. “You scared you’re gonna like it, Princess? Promise I’ll take real good care of you–"

"Oh, please,” you’d scoffed right back. “Let’s not pretend you know your way around a girl’s body, Hyuck. I doubt you could even find my clit–"

"I would obliterate your pussy if you’d let me, and you know it,” there was a glint in his eye as he looked you up and down, “And we both know you’d like it.”

You were so fired up that you hadn’t even noticed how close you’d gotten to each other; you could feel his breath on your lips, his chest against yours. So irritated by his cockiness, you hardly even registered what you said next until it was too late:

“You’re all bark no bite, Lee Haechan.”

For the last three years you’ve been at college, you and Haechan had both been walking on eggshells around each other. There’d always been tangible tension ever since you had shut down one of his rants in class and essentially destroyed him — and from there it’d been a competition to one-up one another. You hated him, he hated you… but doesn’t the line between hate and lust wear oh so thin when it’s someone as hot as him?

The answer is yes, evidently.

After the seven minutes we’re up, Haechan wastes no time dragging you out of the closet and to his bedroom, earning him a matter of gasps and ‘ooohhhs’ from the rest of the players.

Next thing you know, you’re lying on your stomach, hands pinned at the small of your back as he thrusts into you so deeply you swear you can feel him in your stomach. His sheets rub against your clit with every body-wrecking slap of his hips against you, your throat hoarse from screaming. And for a moment you’re really, really, really fucking sorry for even doubting his abilities so much — because God can he fuck.

But you’d never tell him that, you don’t need to. His ego is already massive, he’ll live without validation from you — or so you think.

A hand crowds underneath you, before seizing your neck and pulling you up. The shortness of breath makes you pant, pulsing around him instinctively and you hear him laugh in your ear.

Fucking asshole.

And as if he hears you, his fingers find your mouth — and you gag, because his fingers are fucking thick and he’s shoving them down your throat. And the worst part is you love it, your mouth swallowing them the minute they push past your lips like it was just instinct.

"Oh, baby,” he laughs breathlessly, “Next time you do that, make sure it’s on my dick."

"You fucking wish—” you grunt, because he’s laying into you real deep now, slow, languid thrusts that have you refraining from shuddering all over– “as if there’s going to be a next time, you dick."

"Oh?” his hips still.

Then, almost thoughtfully, they begin again. Slow and teasing and not nearly enough to have you writhing in pleasure. His pace is tortuous, and if he didn’t have your arms pinned behind you, you’d claw at his back to make him speed up.

“Really? You think one night of the best sex you’ll ever have is enough?"

"Please, your dick game isn’t that impressive,” you say flatly. “Just make me cum and get this over with.”

You feel the heat of his breath as he dips his head again, placing kisses on your jaw so gently that for a moment you’re taken aback. “Don’t get impatient now, baby. I told you I’d take care of you didn’t I? Just…” His hips still again– “I think I’d like you to ask for it.”

“Ask?” You scoff, incredulous.

He nibbles down on your ear, before brushing past it with his lips low enough to whisper, “You're right. I meant beg.”

“What, you get off on girls begging for your permission–?"

There’s a rough snap of his hips into you and you have to bite hard down on your lip to stop yourself from whimpering.

"Not just any girls,” he mutters, so quiet that you almost don’t hear. “Only you.”

You’re going to pretend that your heart doesn’t flip when he says that, partially because of how sick it is that that gets you off, and instead focus on what the fuck is going on.

Did Lee Haechan just admit he wants you to beg for him? The same man who’d made it his college mission to torment and tease you at every given opportunity wants you.

If you weren’t lying on your stomach and taking every thick inch of him you’d be running in shock horror. But you find the idea isn’t quite as horrifying as you’d imagined.

“… Maybe we can fit more than one round in tonight, but that’s all I can offer you,” you say after a moment. You can feel him freeze up behind you. “I’m a busy girl with exams, Hyuck, I don’t have time to be running around with strange men–”

“Strange men?” His laugh is really nice. Sweet and dorky — the opposite of the usual mischievous chuckling he did when he knew he had gotten under your skin — and you only manage a huff of your own laughter yourself before you’re caught off guard by his steadily increasing grinds. “And after those exams? Got any time for a strange man like me?"

“…I’d have to check my calendar.”

He hums, and you swear to God if he stops again you’ll take back everything. "But for now… What’s your calendar open to, baby? Three? Four rounds?”

“Bold of you to assume you’ll get me to cum more than once,” you mumble, but you’re beginning to lose your breath as he picks up the pace once again. “I’ll warn you, though – I get loud after two.”

You don’t have to look back to know he’s sporting a smug as fuck grin. “You better muffle yourself with a pillow then, because I’m not stopping.”

“You’re so fucking sexy when you do that.”

Okay, so maybe the whole ‘waiting until after exams’ bit is getting to Haechan. He wouldn’t wait until your calendar cleared up, he couldn’t, his testosterone wouldn’t let him.

It’s been a whole three days since he got to fuck you; and God was it driving him insane.

You glance up at him now, unimpressed. You knew studying with him was a bad idea, but he’d been so insistent; and you had to admit, knowing he had made you cum four times made his presence all the more tolerable to hang out with.

“When I what? Do science homework?"

"No, no – I mean, yes. When you concentrate you get this small… crease between your brows…” He reaches forward – concentrating himself – tugging the plush of his bottom lip between his teeth as he reaches out to poke between your brows. “You look fucking sexy.”

“Alright, Casanova, hands to ourselves” you snort before you return to your reading.

The silence doesn’t last long, and the second he opens his mouth you swear you’re two moments away from taping his lips together.

“Lemme eat you out.”

“Wh– no!” Horrified, you peek around to see if anyone had heard him. But the library is virtually empty – it always is after 11 PM on a Friday.

And also, you’re both tucked away in a table at the back behind the History books that no-one ever takes out.

“You should be studying.”

“Don’t worry about me, I got this exam in the bag.”

You glare. “You’re awfully confident.”

“Yeah.” He shrugs, slumping in his seat again. “You’re my only competition, and, well…”

“Well, what?” You demand, setting your book down.

This was the usual dynamic you were familiar with when it came to Lee Haechan.

“You saying I’m not good enough competition, for you Hyuck? If my memory serves me correctly – and it definitely does – I beat you by 10% on our last exam.”

His own eyes narrow.

Oh, you just hit a nerve.

“Just for that,” he begins slowly, pushing his chair out, “I’m gonna suck your clit ‘til you go dizzy.”

“What part of no don’t you understand?”

But the promise is enticing and you part your legs anyway as he shimmies underneath the table.

“You’re such a fuckboy, I swear–”

“I am not!” He objects incredulously from beneath you. “I just like how you taste, baby.”

A fuckboy, you swear. But he’s got a way with words (and a way with his fingers, and a way with his tongue, and a way with his di—).

You feel your skirt being rucked up and your panties being pulled to the side – seconds later, his face ducks up from the table, grinning wolfishly.

“You’re kinda wet down here, baby. Are you sure you’re okay?” He teases.

“Shut up before I scream,” you grunt, folding your arms.

“Wouldn’t that be a dream?” He sighs. He retreats not two milliseconds after, though, and you hear him whistle lowly to himself. And then, so quiet you almost don’t catch it: “Fucking hell, baby.”

You make a promise that if he calls you baby once more you’re going to kick him because it makes your stomach flutter and your palms sweat — but then he licks a rough line up your pussy and you decide that maybe you’ll allow him to call you whatever he pleases.

Your head falls back as he does it again, and again, and again, as if he’s trying to clean up whatever mess you’d made in your panties. And normally you’d be irritated — wanting him to just move onto your clit already — but he genuinely sounds like he’s enjoying himself.

Quiet groans in his throat and passionate movements of his jaw, and his hands grasp your thighs so tightly you know there’ll be bruises. He smacks his lips wetly and you jolt, peeking out from behind the bookshelf to see if anyone had seen.

“Calm down,” He says, words muffled against you. “Nobody comes behind here on a Friday night. We’re safe.”

And as if to punctuate his point: a finger pulls back the hood of your clit, and true to his word, he sucks. Quickly, you shove your fist into your mouth and begin to gnaw on your knuckles, squeezing your eyes shut so hard that you see stars.

“H-Hyuck,” you whimper, “Unless you want me to get us caught–"

"I know, I know,” he says, sighing. His face comes out from underneath the table again. “I’ll be good if you pull your top down.”

“W-what?” To be fair, you’re still delirious off pleasure because his thumb hasn’t stopped grinding against your clit. “Why?"

"So I can play with your tits,” he says easily, shrugging. “C'mon, Princess. Show me your boobs.”

You stare at him for a moment, disbelief written on your face. “You’re such a man.”

“And you’ve still got the limp to prove it, haven’t you, baby? Don’t think I haven’t noticed the way you can’t walk straight.”

“Whatever.” You pull your top down, tug your breasts out of their cups – only to appease him and get him to shut up. Immediately he takes one in his grabby hands, all warm and rough as he tugs and pulls at one nipple.

So, okay, maybe he does know what he’s doing. Sometimes. Who are you kidding? All the time.

“Hm, you like that, don’t you?"

"Shut up,” you hiss, “if you get us banned from this library because of your dirty talk I’m never fucking you again—shit."

“We both know that’s not true.”

A steady stream of suckling on your sensitive bundle of nerves calls your attention elsewhere; at the same time, your nipple is rolled between his index and thumb. You feel like you’re buzzing all over, and it’s not because you’ve had five cups of coffee in the last three hours.

You don’t realise that you’re panting – fucking close – until Haechan releases your clit with a pop. He ducks underneath the table to peek up at you again. "Are you trying to get us caught?"

"I’ll be quiet,” you promise through gritted teeth, shoving your top into your mouth. You restrain the urge to curse him out because you could feel the beginning flutters of your orgasm on the tip of your tongue, and you know he’ll draw it out as much as possible if given the chance. “Just keep going."

He’s wearing a victorious, shit-eating grin when he gets back to it, energy increasing rapidly. He eats pussy like he’s competing for a trophy, and truth be told, you don’t mind being his prize if he makes you cum as hard as you did a few days ago. His tongue moves eagerly, tracing letters and numbers and fucking his name on your sensitive skin before sucking again.

No noise. You try to coach your brain into silence.

You never usually have a problem keeping quiet for the first orgasm. But as much as you hate to admit it, the act of being eaten out in a public library is a different kind of turn on.

And it really doesn't help that Haechan knows exactly what he’s doing.

Maybe that’s why when you cum, you have no problem with clinging to any part of him you can get your hands on — his hand on your chest, his hair between your legs. A weak whimper follows as you contract around nothing, hips bucking gently into his mouth, and he takes it all in.

Fuck.

He slides back from under the table and resurfaces a metre away, grinning widely. You know the image of you looking so ruined because of him is doing wonders for his ego — so as quickly as possible you pull your top down and readjust your skirt, panties irritatingly rough against your skin.

"Good, huh?"

You don’t want to give him anymore satisfaction, but you know with the orgasm he had just given you so publicly, there was no use in lying. In fact, you’re certain lying to him would only make his cocky ego flame even more.

“Whatever, Hyuck. You give good head, I’ll give you that.”

He hums, leaning backwards. “Thanks, baby. Now, bend over."

”Excuse me?“ You say.

“C’mon, you can’t just let me eat your pretty pussy and not expect me to get hard. You’re blue balling me here, Princess.”

You’re so genuinely shaken by his unfaltering confidence that you just stare.

“And don’t pretend you don’t love my cock.”

“Hyuck—”

“Bend over, I’m not kidding.”

You’re in a library. Letting him eat you out was already a reach — but you can’t deny that you do love the feeling of him inside you. And he did take good care of you last time. And —

You sigh in defeat, standing. “Remember what I told you last time?"

"You get loud after two. I’ll keep that in mind, baby.”

[sleepy-fiction]

Fists In The Backline.

iron fist x fem!reader SMUT

Lin Lie fucking the shit out of the enemy healer. "You're not going back to the mission area. Ever."

tgs: exhibitionism, voyeurism, watersports, minor breeding kink, ironfist physically overpowers reader, dubcon, wrestling, bdsm, unbalanced power dynamics, prey/hunter, compassionate hard dom lin, fem reader, bunny nickname, no romance pure fucking but a lot of sweetness from them

an: i loved writing this, I'm even considering a pt 2 w them as undercover fckbuddies. Also, time works diff here than playing a marvels match. BARELY proofread

4.9K WORDS

"Fuuhh fuh-Uck! Lin... Lin, we gotta goo back," you can't even manage a full sentence underneath the barrage of thrusts. Lin Lie has you bent over a broken pillar in the Royal Palace, his thick cock berating your hole as you grunt and dig your nails into the ridges.

You were 20 meters away from the mission area, your radar pinging your teammates' dangerously low health. With the leader board showing 68% to 43% of mission area captured, the latter being your team's.

It was quick how Iron Fist noticed how your heals carried your team hard. You were all in the lead for the first half of the battle, dogging them with an amazing 30% to 1%, and for hellish minutes, not a single member of his team could land a step on the mission area.

That was until he devised his plan, rounding up all his team to attack you, and you only with him hounding them to trust him. It was an even bloodier battle, but he eventually got you, but he got crushed by your team's Panther right as he did so.

This wasn't the last you'd see him. As right as you spawned, you saw the terrifying sight of an enemy IronFist, standing directly in the backlines, ogling you in spawn. At first, you were prepared for another battle, but a passionate zeal fell upon IronFist, his powers spilling out a green mist, and he incapacitated you within seconds.

His strong punch flung you into the cracked pillar behind you, the grand marble caving in under your weight. You spat out, "Augh," as gravity carried you to the floor, your ribcage and arm slung over the broken piece.

Dammit.

He was going to kill you and send you back to spawn after you tried your best escape.

You heard the familiar crunch of heavy shoes on shattered marble, and in a last ditch effort, you threw out your final weak attack. It did nothing. In fact, Iron Fist simply side stepped it. Wild feral anger crossed your eyes as you flipped to face him, legs too weak to stand.

You growled with a boom, "You back-lining asshole! You think this is a fair fucking fight? Huh? Think this is righteous?" You stated up at him, as his large muscular body casted a shadow over you.

He was tall and intimidating, his broad shoulders steered the sun away, and his proud biceps flexed in his crossed arms. The way his mask hugged at his eyes mysteriously, the way he stood strong with confidence- wisdom; something you haven't quite cracked yet. You were a new hero on the scene. You weren't accepted by all yet.

You had too much to prove and too much to lose in this fight. Not him, though. He was one of the many glorious Iron Fists. If it were any other circumstance, you would have given up, talked nice, and at least admire such an inspiring hero. But not here, not now.

Not when he was playing so fucking dirty, and ripping your precious moment from your claws.

Your eyes gleamed with spite.

Skkrt!

Your radio buzzed. Starlord's voice interrupted your stare down, "Where the hell are you, kid? We need those heals now!"

Your heart sunk to your core.

You shouted, "Well?" Grabbing up chunks of broken marble rocks and throwing it meekly at Iron Fist. They seemed to ricochet off his stature, but finally, finally, he moved.

Iron Fist sunk down a bit, grabbed your shoulder and kept you in place on the ground. "Hey, what the fuck," you spat. You thrashed around, but he sunk on one knee between your legs and raised his other mighty hand on your shoulder, clamping you down in place. You cried, but his face shot close to you.

You gasped in the closeness, you could see the beads of sweat that plagued his face and neck, how his shiney spikey hair absorbed the sunlight and reflected dark colors of husky brown. How his strong jawline complimented the structure of his masked eyes. How the tip of his nose was just as pink as his plump lips. You gulped.

He finally spoke.

"You're not going to back Mission Area. Ever," he hushed. The command sent shivers down you.

"W-Why not," you still growled at him.

"You're too good. You're the only thing keeping your uncoordinated team alive. The only one reminding those guys to stay on checkpoint. And I wanna win... So," he grins, it's devilish the way it makes you stir in fear. He's so confident, so precise, it steals your breath from under you.

An established hero recognized you.

Sskt-- "I need backup dammit! Where are my god damn heals," Winter Soldier booms.

"Hey hey! Take your time! Or don't. But listen could'ya uh... At least make it quick! No worries though," Spiderman buzzes in.

You glanced down at your Radar, the enemy team has completely caught up. They managed to tie in the 12 minutes you've been away from the battlefield.

You whimper, "Fuuck- Oh no." Despair strikes your face, but it's drowned out by the humored laugh Lin Lie releases.

You whip at him, "You can't keep me here forever! I'll notify Black Panther on my Rad--"

Within seconds, your radar is snatched, "Hey--", and crushed in-between thick hands. Your coms buzzes before blinking off. Lin, all the while, is smiling dangerously hard.

"Hehe! No can do!"

You launch forward in a rage, "You stupid fucking asshole," grabbing chunks of his uniform and sending him to the floor. You straddle his body, desperately trying to rip and claw at his face. His laugh turns into chuckles as he blocks you, eventually grabbing your wrists, stuffing a leg under your chest, and flipping you over him and onto the floor.

You crash land on your back hard, but before you could even gather out a groan, he's onto of you. Ironfist drops his weight on your hips, catching your arms above your head in a quick biff.

"You've got such fire! Such passion--"

"Die! Die, you backlining freak!"

"--You're truly one of a kind. You'll be a great hero when you're ready. No. You already are," he smiled too fondly.

You gasped, your chest heaving as your anger suddenly dies down.

"We can do this the easy way, or we can make this hard," He leans down, his free hand against the floor beside your head. He took up all your view. Despite it all, your eyes flickered from his lips to his masked face.

You whimpered. Awe as terror mixing a dangerous concoction on your face.

This was too intimate.

Even Lin hesitated, simply staring at your face.

There was no doubt in his mind that the newest hero on the scene was gorgeous. Especially to him. You were a true strategist with an empathic heart and a pretty face. Cute eyes with tulips for lips. You trained hard, deep into the early morning when he began his training, and he always caught you staying longer than you should just to admire the way he fought.

Most heros become recognized and lose their precision. Not you, you were sharpening the arrowhead until the oil burned.

He admired you so damn much he even switched his usual spot in the after-match lunch room just so he could have a clear view of you over through Rocket's short head. Even the way you ate was cute. You were always so starry-eyed and excited when conversing with your mates, Storm and Squirrel Girl.

He'd be a liar to say he wasn't taking advantage of it all right now.

"Pretty thing," he mutters. It's loud enough for you to hear. It's sadistic, the way he chuckles a little before continuing, "Got no where to run." He wants to see those glossy eyes brim with anger, just one more time.

Where's your zealous spirit?

You can feel your face warm. You know you shouldn't, but somewhere you got lost in his presence, lost gazing between that mysterious mask and those deliciously soft lips. Those plump, full lips of his. Just as pink as the tip of his nose. You whimper ever too submissively, "What're you 'gonna do to me..." You can't even mask your desire, your tone pleading and desperate. The sort of pleading, desperate tone that drowns in sensuality, as your voice is reduced to a breathy, stammery mess.

He disrespected you but...

You didn't get angry. Hell, that's far from anger.

You're panting a little too heavy, you're staring dead at his lips, you're drowning in his presence, melting like butter, yet as alert as a rabbit in the snares of a fox.

He's losing his fucking mind.

You are totally into him. You like him.

He's overwhelmed by the sheer intensity, the shockwave of seduction that blows in from those rabbit breaths.

He should do the right thing.

But god, he wants to take advantage of this.

What other time would he ever get you this turned on, and be in position to be the lucky one who gets to please you?

But should he do it here? Out in the open, where prying eyes could disrespect you? Holding you hostage, overpowering you physically?

Why did all these factors make it impossibly hotter?

Was it worth risking it all for a once-in-a-lifetime erotic escapade?

And with those sweet eyes shifting from pupil to pupil, you really did look like a tied up rabbit.

Fuck it.

Let's fuck like rabbits.

He raises back, his hand testing the waters, releasing your wrists, and clamping a strong hand on your neck. You call out and whimper, yet never look away, eagerly awaiting, your heart drumming in your chest. His grip is tight but not suffocating. His hands are so damn large, and your neck almost feels like nothing to him. And fuck you're so turned on. You shut your eyes, limp your head back, and ease tense shoulders, flashing him the underside of your chin.

He feels himself harden in his pants, his eyes widening in disbelief and jaw falling slack.

You moaned so sexily and fell limply in his arms like a fainting princess.

Yeah no.

That's one gigantic green light. He pulled you off the ground by your neck, raising your body up to meet his, you gasp out, meekly throwing your hands on his forearms, your grip almost nonexistent.

"I'm going to realign your guts," he smiles wistfully, a hearty and amused laugh leaving him.

There you found yourself, your pants bunched around your knees, your elbows on the broken pillar, and your drippingly wet ass perked up in doggy. The rest of your clothes are disheveled and barely put on right, as Lin's egerously largest hands were, just minutes prior, groping you everywhere on your soft body. It didn't take long for either of you to get deathly aroused. In fact, half the foreplay was skipped, per your request, just so you could feel him.

"Hurry-hurry-hurry," you ramble out, shaking your ass with a delicious whine. He catches it immediately with his bandaged hand, his fingers itching with the addiction of feeling your skin. "I can't take it anymore Iron Fist," you say.

He winces hard. You're so shameless, so bold. It's driving him insane. He shakes, desperate to keep control of himself, as he slowly slides his giant cockhead against your lips. You moan, arching viciously. His thickness peck and slip through your folds, collecting your slick before finally dipping in.

His head is fat, his whole cock itself was 8 inches long. Bulky and burly over skinny. It's fatter towards the center, perfectly straight and just as pink as his lips. Your hole chokes up on his head alone, stretching to meet his plump demands.

Bzztk-- "Iron Fist. Keep it up! Whatever it is, it's working," Hela's voice breaks through the slience. You moan at the lewdity of it all, your toes curling.

Bzzt-- IronFist holds his radar, buzzing it on, "Mmf- Thanks! The fight hasn't been easy! We've been battling it out nonestop," he suddenly plunges in, his cock now halfway in.

You abruptly groan out, "G-Gaa--"

"--Oh no! You're not getting away! Get over here," but he covers it up smoothly.

Bzzt-- "Good work, Lin. Keep it up," Cloak's voice slithers out.

Lin snickers, "You know I will," and the radio shuts off.

You finally moan out all that you couldn't before. "It's soo b-big Iron Fist," you mewl, dropping your chin to rest against the pillar.

"M'hehe," he pushes in more, "Just call me Lin, okay?" His voice is gentle and sweet, both of his strong hands securely gripping your hips. You can feel his blazing warmth not only from his piping dick but from his palms. Combined, it all brings aroused tingles to your brain. "It's Lin Lie, hero."

"My name is--" He slams into you, bottoming out.

You groan out, but he shuts you up quick by leaning forward, reaching, and stuffing your mouth with two of his fingers. His hand cups the side of your face, his thumb resting by the corner of your eye. "Hey, you're still new okay? You gotta protect your identity. Don't give it up for sex," he scolds.

"You'thh thdid itt," you manage out.

"Yeah, well, I've been doing this for a while," he says. He rubs circles with his palm on your juicy ass, admiring every part of how his cock feels in your velvety walls. How you pulse around him and invite him in so nicely. He's thrusting slow into you by now, only taking himself out an inch before sinking back in. He looks from your ass to your face as he does so. "Is that good," he asks, eyes lidding behind the mask.

He sighs out deeply the way a man would after cigarettes when he's finally able to start doing some sort of moving. His grip tight, his restraint dwindling. It's not his fault your tight walls suck him back as he pulls out, not his fault your cervix likes to kiss his tip so nicely. Fuck, all he wants to do now is fuck you like a dog and play with your clit while doing it. All he wants is to make you lose yourself again and get the pleasure you were begging for.

You cry, "Mmyes, morr' Lin. I canh'take morr' than this." Your voice vibrates around his fingers. His hands have you leaned up, your fingertips being the only thing keeping you connected with the pillar. And you find how befitting the blue sky is with an ass full of cock.

"Ffu-- Good," he moans. Lin starts to let loose, starting paced. His dick bangs into your stomach, the fulling sensation of him smothering your hot insides, releasing sloppy, loud squelches into the air.

Your senses are immediately overidden, as you bite down onto his fingers, and move back against his cock. "Ooh'ff! Ooh," you moan blissfully. His lips clench in concentration, as you feel him dig and dig, until finally- your hand slams against the pillar with a loud, "Ff-Yeessh'!"

He laughs sweetly, "Oooh yeah? That's your sweet-spot? Huh, beauty?" He groans breathlessly, precusely digging and fucking his tip into that spot.

His large dick is fucking against your bladder, your toes squeeze ice tight, your moans echoing across the palace walls. Your eyes roll back into your head, your back drowing in sweat already, annoyed by your superclothing that restrain you. "Gotth'a pee," you mutter against his fingers, his thick digits familiarizing itself with your drool.

"Go'n'head 'n release. Ffuck... nobody's gonna see you anymore today," he groans. Your walls spasmed in fear and anticipation at his devilish sugarcoated words. Lin's hand finally slips from your mouth, and you fall back onto your elbows. His other hand, join him in holding your hips. He lifts your hips up more, your knees now hovering an inch off the ground. Your weight meant absolutely nothing to him.

"Keep an eye on the score, would you," he says as he tosses his radar infront of you. You sloppily turn it over, shock filling your soul.

You first cry out in despair, "Fuck it's at sixty-sev-- Oooh! Yess," but the sound quickly morphs into pure bliss. Your head drops down dumbly as Lin's pace turns into madness. No longer did the sweet, consideriate, paced thrusts exist, as now he fucked you expeditiously. His stout cock was rapid and precise, its unrelenting speed just as inescapable as his zealous fists.

Your hand reach out into the air around you, gripping at absolutely nothing to anchor you to this world and not the galaxy of stars behind your eyelids. His grunts and groans got louder, the stuttering sounds ever so deep and blissful. He fucked you so hard you could feel your elbows slip forward on the pillar, until you were no longer holding onto it, but your stomach rested on it, and your hands planted into the dirt.

Your toes curled, as your greedy pussy clenched down on him. The sloppy wet sounds combined with the intense clapping of skin to skin competed against your wailing cries. Your bladder gave out within seconds of it all, squinting hard as your bladder was pressed by both sides. On the inside, it was battered by Lin's passionate head, but on the outside, it was smothered by the broken pillar. Your legs twitched and jerked, hands deep in the dirt.

You cried, "L-Lin! Oooh fuck! Mmff' let's go baack." The only thing else to look at was the scoreboard, watching helplessly as the enemy team reached a terrifying 78 percent, ten more gained in the three minutes from last time you checked. They were kicking your team's ass, hard.

"Nno can do bunny-- Haa... I've 'gotta- wwin-uh," he moans out. He suddenly stops, forcedly adjusting himself, as he lays a foot down on the pillar, his body leaning down towards you, as he forces your face into the dirt; large hand pressing the back of your head down. In this new position, your knees slipped up to catch yourself, now finding themselves on the pillar, your pants now barely held on by your feet, and Lin stood in the calamity, a perfectly smooth transition, as his left hand stayed put on your hips.

He asks, "You 'kay?" But barely waits as he instantly begins to pound you into the dirt. By now, all of his thrusts are sloppy, his grunts loud into the air, curses flying off his lips like a mantra, "Ffuck-fuck-fuck-- mm."

He's gonna cum, he's gonna cum!

He's still going full steam ahead inside of you. You were overstimulated beyond compare, your poor sweet clit was swollen and enlarged, pulsating hard for friction. The slightest touch of it would send you flying to heaven and back. No way we're you gonna be left high and wet without a mind-fucking orgasm.

"Mmm- My Clit," you screeched like a parrot, your moans filled with more light headed gasps than sounds.

Lin released your head, leaning all the way up, and using his hand how to reach between you and spin your clit. The muscle was pre-drenched in the downpour of your lust. And in your wake, "I'm cumming!--", you ripped chunks from the earth, squirting out one final time.

"Aaa-haah, me too," Lin could barely laugh, as he was overtaken by mindless groans as he slammed rough into you for the final time, shooting his first ribbon deep inside you. He pulled out, shooting his second, before roughly slamming balls-deep in for the third. His moans were feral and mindless, only caring about dumping his hot load into your cervix.

Shit. That totally wasn't good but you'd take care of--

Bbzzt-- "Another Amazing Victory!"

Your eyes popped open to the radar.

The scoreboard: 100% to 49%

Your knees slipped back onto the dirt as he pulled out, your stomach back resting on the pillar as you stared at the results with angered eyes.

"See, what'd I tell ya, bunny," his cock rudely finds its way back inside, he continues, "You carried your team." He leans down on you, his chest on your back as he hooks an arm under yours. It slots between your breasts and grabs your neck, pulling you completely off the ground as he stands up with you, his hard dick still inside. Your legs twitch, and a sultry mewl leaves you, your piss drenched pants slipping to the ground.

You can hear Lin groan deep into your ear, "Sorry, bunny, just one more round. I promise it'll be just one more... I need this, please. Trust me," and it sends delicious tingles down your spine.

It's only then, from this sight of him holding you, that you can see your surroundings and really focus in on the fact that you were on royal grounds, fucking where any unlucky bastard could see.

And oddly, your eyes kept glancing to a crow perched up on a pillar in the distance.

Fuck.

Eeh.

Well.

"Okaayy," you mewl braindead-ly. "Mmh, make it rough Lin pleasee," you whine, clenching tight around him in anticipation.

"Your wish is my command, bunny," he whispers fiendishly so.

read part 2?

[starvales]

wdym i have a head dent?!

narumi gen / gn!spouse!reader

synopsis : "narumi gen is highly respected in his own division, with every officer following him with determination and every platoon leader dyeing their hair like him as a sign of respect."

content : only crack, fluff, gender neutral reader, reader works in jakdf, a few flashbacks, a little bit more on the lore side, the word beautiful is used to describe the reader, shinonome's age is just a guess, mostly shinonome pov, narumi should have his own warning fr, vice captain and platoon leaders are tired.

words : 1.7k

a/n : you can’t convince me that this man hasn’t went out on a mission with a head dent at least once-

part two of 'a cheers to our youth'

She remembers years ago, newly turned twenty, and nervously standing in front of your desk, arms crossed behind her back, posture rigid.

This would be the first time she will be meeting you in person, rather than listening to your demands through a communicator.

Now is the time to make the best lasting first impression. To prove that she is capable of handling things much bigger than an ordinary officer.

"Thank you very much for deeming me worthy of a rank review! I will not let you down!"

"Don't thank me for something as trivial as just a chance of a promotion. I know you'll do well in the future, Shinonome. The person you really need to impress is the First Captain."

You do not look up from your paperwork, and though many will see this as quite cold and rude, she's heard from numerous people that you simply do not have the time to entertain anything or anyone else within working hours.

The fact that you even spared a one-on-one meeting with her was an honour, and Shinonome will forever respect your dedication. Unfortunately, her lips move to articulate her thoughts before she could stop herself.

"I aspire to contribute to the Defence Force as much as you and Captain Narumi, Head! Please wait for me!" She slaps a hand over her mouth.

Stopping your editing to the paper before you, you look up at her in surprise at her outburst. Shinonome is swift in attempting to correct her statement.

"Uhm...! I did not mean it in that way, Head. A-Apologies for speaking out of line. I'll commence however many push ups-"

"Hahaha!" You made no move to hide your mirth and Shinonome does not know whether to be concerned or relieved at your reaction.

She curses at herself. Dammit, well done, Rin. You definitely made a lasting first impression alright. Great, now Head is gonna see you as a clown vying for their hand.

"No need for the push ups. I appreciate your passion, Shinonome. However, I am already married, so I will have to decline." It seems that you will not let her forget this. How cruel...

Wiping a forming tear at the edge of your eye, you sigh lightheartedly. "It's a good thing that you didn't say that to your Captain or else his head would blow up bigger than it already is!"

By now, the officer is bright red at her blunder before your words catch up to her. Wait, married...? Weren't you only a year or two older than her? Is she already falling behind her peers in yet another department?!

And though she does not say her thoughts aloud this time, you seem to be able to read her befuddled face too well. You hold up your hand and lift two fingers up like a peace sign, a soft smile adorning your own face.

At that moment, Shinonome realises that you are much friendlier in person compared to when you are communicating with Captain Narumi.

During missions, it was like listening to dogs fighting.

"I am two or three years older than you, I think, If I remember reading your files correctly. I just got married really young so don't worry too much about finding love or whatnot for now. Live in the present and all that." You wave off casually.

"If I may be so bold to ask..." Shinonome only now notices the metal band that you adorn around your fourth finger and shyly looks at her own twiddling bare fingers.

"Hm? Go ahead." Your focus is still on her.

"What age did you get married?"

"Eighteen."

"?!"

You burst back into laughter when Shinonome's composed and seemingly nonchalant persona crumbles and she is left there dumbfounded.

A feint 'don't mind' playfully slips out as you excuse yourself to deliver your now finished papers and pat her shoulder on your way to the door.

Shinonome finds that you will truly not let her live down her moment in your office.

Even months later, after she was proven competent and promoted to Platoon Leader. Be it during a mission, passing each other in the corridor, or in a meeting.

("Platoon Leader Shinonome, please wait for me in my office after this." / "Shinonome, please wait for the arrival of new equipment sent over by...." / "Ah, Rin. Thanks for waiting for me, traffic was atrocious today!" All of those interactions being followed by a knowing smirk.)

Despite this, the two of you have grown closer, more casual. Dare she say that the two of you were even friends.

She learnt that you are married to the Narumi Gen and that you have known him since you were children (she had always assumed those endearments he torments you with during missions were a joke).

Learns you prefer drinking iced coffee rather than hot.

You only wear shoes you can very easily slip on.

You like to make edits to documents using a purple pen rather than the standard red.

You personalise your lab coats by stitching your initials and operator number to the cuffs (swearing her to secrecy, you tell her that you also stitch Captain Narumi's initials, but instead at the cuffs, it's hidden inside the pocket over where your heart is).

In spite of your seemingly intimidating work front, you are still very much human.

(Years down the line, Shinonome has well learnt that you were never scary, or aloof, or anything of the sort. She guesses your role in the Defence Force just forces you to seem like it, given your importance.)

Shinonome also learns that you and Narumi dye each other's hair.

"Oh, this?" You motion to the groupings of fresh silver highlights in your hair. The Platoon Leader had to deliver some documents and noticed the change and decided to compliment you on it, it fits you. She asks if you had it done professionally.

It looks really nice... maybe she would suit something similar?

"No, I didn't go to a salon. You think I have the money for that sort of thing?" Yes, yes you do, Head.

"I've been dyeing Captain Loser's hair since we were teenagers, and he decided while we were touching up his roots that it's been a while since we were matching and wouldn't leave me alone otherwise. I didn't get to sleep until two last night!"

You say it with such disdain that if she were a new recruit, she would think that you meant it.

But Shinonome knew you better than that, because you could never hide the adoration that shone through your irises, or the fondness in your smile.

Perhaps, one day, she will meet someone that would elicit the same reaction when talking about her...

"He wanted to do my hair without my help so now there's a chunk of under layer hair that's all silver instead of just highlights. If you look even closer, you might see just bleached bits that he forgot to colour! He botched it!"

She would be lying if she were to say she wasn’t jealous.

You are beautiful and intelligent and considerate and sincere. And though you are not physically strong, you show your strength in a plethora of other ways, your contributions named on newspapers displayed along your office walls are evident of that. Your strategies and tactics have led many to victory and the Eastern Defence Force is as strong as ever.

Truly, you and Narumi Gen are forces to be reckoned with and Shinonome could not be more thankful to be so in reach.

She does not realise she was staring at you for so long until you speak up.

"Ah! Would you like me to do your hair sometime?"

"Oi, Dumbass. Stop trying to act cool in front of the newbies."

Narumi, dramatically posing solemnly atop a fresh kaiju corpse, tilts his head back to face the flying drone's camera and shows off a smirk at the sound of your voice.

"Well, if it isn't my darling dearest, everything okay at Comms?" He waves lazily, but this seems to irk you more.

"You were playing Underwatch, when I told you not to, weren't you." You frame it as a statement, rather than a question.

Everyone in Operations and Officers around Narumi watches as their Captain's jaw drops to the floor, eyes bulging out of his skull.

He is quick to grab at the drone and shakes it wildly, as if it was a person he was trying to gouge information out of. The propellers are swift to turn off, you knew this kind of reaction was coming from miles away.

"Who snitched?!" His face is all up on the camera.

At this point, Narumi knew that it was of his best interest to admit the truth rather than make up excuses on the spot, especially if you used that tone.

But how could you have possibly found out? He even made sure to download a special VPN so you couldn't track his gameplay! Was it Hasegawa? It had to have been Hasegawa. Damn you, Hasegawa-

"Your galactic-sized head dent gave it away. Do you not have enough sense to at least fix it before you leave for duty?" You sigh on the other end of the mic, disappointment evident in your admonishment.

"Huh?"

The drone starts up again and Narumi is forced to let go as it turns to face ninety degrees away from him and projects a hologram of himself, but from his side.

Lo and behold, all of the Captain's hair is sticking straight up, as per usual when he is in combat, except for the areas at the centre of his skull, a clear band of hair matted down with a sheen of presumably sweat.

"Pfft, I hope the news articles capture this very flattering side of you! 'What a loser,' they'll all say." You do your best to cover up a snicker. The drone is now happily emoting like an actual person, tilting side to side as if it were someone's head, taunting him.

"NO!!" Narumi is on his knees, frantically trying to fix his hair while maniacal laughter resonates from the floating device.

From a distance, a certain Platoon Leader watches on, irked. Out of all of the people to admire for the power they bring to the Defence Force, out of all the people to strive to be like, why did it have to be these two?

[mixingandmelting]

Street Food

Summary: he gets frustrated after standing in line in dead winter for street food with you. then you decide to do the most scandalous thing to do prior to even dating: hold hands with him

It’s dark. It’s cold. It’s snowing. And it’s cold.

It’s the middle of winter and all five of you, you and team Sabbath, are in line for the next open table in the street food-selling tent. Why he or any one on the team, for that matter, thought it was a good idea to listen to you, he has no idea. But he’s definitely regretting it, gritting his teeth and shivering in the cold. 

“We just should’ve gone to the BBQ place.” Vinny pulls the zipper up his jacket as the other two males grunts. It’s not just them but also the rest of the line that’s suffering. Parkas reaching their calves, thick scarves, gloves, and boots. Some groups are even going as far as to press against each other to build up more body heat. 

“Come on, don’t be like that.” You roll your eyes only to scrunch your nose and pull your scarf up to block the breeze that blows into your face. “The food’s good and cheap. I promise, it’ll be worth it.” 

Wooin can feel another vein about to pop from his neck, his pent up frustration close to exploding to its max. Do you even realize that’s what you’ve been saying the past thirty minutes? Look where that got them now! 

“It better be.” Wooin hisses. He keeps his arms wrapped around his torso, squeezing them in hopes that’d warm him up. It’s so cold and he’s only in a sweater dammit.  “We could’ve been already eating, not freezing our ass off. But no, instead all of us decided to be dumb, listen to you, and actually stay in line. If this place isn’t good you’re paying the next three-“ He stops as he catches Hyuk and Joker shuffling closer towards you. 

Those little- he’s pretty sure he made it clear he’s the only one allowed to be physically chummy with you. Did they really think he wouldn’t notice? His scowl deepens when Hyuk merely raises an eyebrow at him. That prick. 

“Oh, for goodness sake-just shut up!” You huff, at your wit end with all the complaining coming from all directions. “It’s your own fault for refusing to even wear gloves when I literally told you to wear thicker clothes!” 

Suddenly, he freezes as it registers: you, of all people, the person who absolutely abhors his physical touches, just grabbed his hands and stuffed them in your pocket. Initiate hand holding and keep holding his with zero hesitation. Warmth traveling from your palm to his, hell your and his fingers are locked-! 

You don’t pay attention, seemingly too fed up to care. But the rest of the team notices, especially with how he simply stays quiet rather than rampaging like he normally does. One look by each of them and Vinny tilts his head down with a hand covering his mouth. Joker has to turn away, both him and the red head’s shoulders shaking nonstop. 

It’s at the sound of the shutter going off, he snaps out of it. Keeping a note in the back of his mind to get at Hyuk afterwards, his lips stretch widely across his face; his grin resembling Cheshire. 

“Babe, if you wanted to hold hands you could’ve just asked.”

He’s quick to tighten his grip as you try to pull his hands out and shove them away. But no matter how hard you shake, he doesn’t let go. Up and down his arms goes only for him to cackle as he starts swinging yours and his around, asking if this was what you actually wanted. The rest of the time gets spent like this, where he continues to irritate you with full intentions to not let go. It almost makes this whole thing worth it considering this is a first from you and of course, him being the awful person he is, he wants to relish it as long as he can. On the side, Joker and Hyuk start making bets on who will be successful in getting things to go their way. Poor Vinny adds this event as another reason as to why he shouldn’t have not joined the team in the first place. 

Wooin does get sulky when you let go, the excuse of you needing your hands to eat (yes, he was ready to feed you just so he could at least keep A hand). However, he has to admit. The place seriously sells good street food. Even better when a discount was applied because you were friends with the grandma running it. 

“Come on, it’s just a hand.”

“Like I’ll let you when you’re going get all weird about it again!”

Just like that, the second you all leave the tent, he goes at it harder to tease you as you dodge at every attempt. 

“He totally has a crush.” Hyuk sighs in exasperation, seeing Wooin’s tendency instantly worsen. 

“...Yeah. He does.”

All three flinch when their eyes happen to meet Wooin’s glaring ones. 

“...I heard that.”

[nana-luvy]

. Well I have eyes, I'm gonna use them

Installment of the Mine series

warnings: fluff, playboy!Luke, fem!reader, daughter of Athena!reader, swearing

Because he can't help but gravitate around you, for some reason he can't quite start to comprehend.

˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗

Maybe he couldn’t fully admit yet whatever he though deep inside himself, but what Luke could admit was that he wouldn’t let a single failure deter him in his attempt to… whatever his attempt was supposed to be driven by.

And if the boy knew one thing, it was that he had this effortless charm. He didn’t think about it in a very narcissistic way —or maybe he did, sometimes—, more as a fact, clearly noticing the heads turning as he passed by and the whispers emerging when he came near, and more than once using it to his own advantage. He didn’t even think it, he just did it.

Maybe sometimes did he overdo it ? Just a little, he thought, though his clear reputation as a player among campers was, well.. well-earned. And it did put him in sticky situations, like the current one with you, or the one that lead to it… Nothing he wanted to think about, really.

Luke shook his head suddenly, trying to get out of his thoughts with his curls bouncing softly from the movement, with a coolness to make his fan-club sway for. But as he opened his eyes back, they immediately locked on your figure like on a target, walking around the stables as you helped Silena with her chores. Oh yeah, that nice soul you were… Made him feel some kind of way he wouldn’t dare to describe, each time.

It wasn’t before he snapped out of his sight-seeing session that he realized his legs had lead him right to you, now only a few feet away, gaze still trained to you as he watched you laugh with your friend, giving her some kind of bucket before retrieving your hand to lightly brush your hair away from your face. Did his legs feel wobbly ?

But as you came closer and closer into view, his mind was one-tracked like a stuttering, broken record, playing ‘take me back- take me back- take me back” on loop, and the only way it suddenly could express it was through his biggest quality and worse weakness: his effortless, cocky and confident charm.

“If I promise to be the second-smartest person in the room from now on, will you at least pretend to miss me?”

You turned to the voice as you heard it, not that you needed a face to understand who it was when it was one you knew all too well, eyes crossing his unreadable ones. You forced yourself to turn your attention back to the box stall you were in, realizing Selina had slipped away to go get a new brush. Dammit.

“You’d actually be third at best, Castellan: the winged lady beats you to second place,” you replied flatly, gently patting the pegasis on her side. “What are you doing here ?”

“Hmmm, I don’t know…” he dragged, taking a couple steps to lean his shoulder on a wooden pillar. Why did he always have to look this effortlessly hot ? “I just passed by and saw you, and then I was just here… A pretty girl always has a whimsical kinda way to drag me to her. You should really wear your hair like that more often, it's pretty.”

And that flirty lilt rolling off his tongue with practiced ease had a way to make you both melt on the spot and want to splatter that bucket of dirt, hay and unspeakable filth right on his head. But you carried on doing your task, or rather Silena’s —though she’d now definitely left you alone to it—, trying your best to ignore his crowding presence. “Save your flattery for someone who’s actually interested, Castellan.”

“I mean, I have eyes.” Luke slowly walked the few steps separating him from the stall divider, his gaze like a warmth you could feel on you without even looking his way. The boy leaned forward in your direction, resting his forearms on the wood, his chin lazily put on the back of his hands for support. “And you really make me wanna use them solely to see you…”

“On how many people did you use that line, exactly ?” you answered, trying your best to sound unbothered. But oh, oh, did he look like everything you dreamed off.

You’d heard stories, of how Aphrodite could change her appearance to look the most attractive to whomever had the privilege of speaking with her. And now you were certain, if you ever had the chance of meeting her, she would look exactly like Luke in this moment: tamed curls falling in faux-mess over his forehead, the orange hues of the late afternoon painting his face with a halo of light like none ever seen, lazy smile dancing on his smile like in a daze. And your heart faltered, there, for a second. For a second, you thought of giving in to whatever trick he was playing again, because being a toy to such a being would never be as bad as having to stay away from his divine aura.

There had been a beat before you’d replied and, to your dismay, Luke wouldn’t have missed it for anything, obviously using it to his advantage.

Your eyes were still absentmindedly drifting over the lines of his face when his tongue darted out to wet his lips, snapping you out of it immediately. “You know, for someone who seems so confident in their newfound hatred, you sure hesitate a lot when you try to push me away, bunny.”

You didn’t know if the blush dusting your cheeks was from nervousness or annoyance, but you knew the smirk tugging at the corner of his lips was sure to make your blood boil. You shook the thoughts away, the ones that spoke good of that thorn in your side that was Luke, trying to get your wits back under his heavy gaze. So you turned away from him, trying to carry on whatever chore you were doing that you’d almost completely forgotten about the moment your eyes met his.

“You know,” you eventually started, reluctantly going back in the guy’s direction to pick up a stack of hay. “For someone who values themselves so much, you-”

“I value you more, though.”

“Ugh !” And you’re surprised his cheeky smile didn’t make you implode from irritation on the spot. You took a deep breath, closing your eyes to dismiss the turmoil in your mind, and closing your fingers harshly against the string of the haystack to try and release your growing frustration. “Why can’t he take a fucking hint…” you muttered under your breath, standing back up with the item in your hands and turning around towards the back of the stall.

But a hand immediately shot out to tug at the hem of your orange camp shirt, pulling you back towards its owner in a sharp movement. “What ? Running away from me already ?”

You obviously snapped. “Stop it ! I might be wise, and only half as reckless as you, but that’s actually way more recklessness than I need to punch your teeth out of your mouth. Got it ?”

Luke winced in discomfort as your hand gripped his tightly, nails digging in his skin the same way your wild gaze did in his soul, and he let go. “Geez, you don’t have to overreact like that, bunny. I didn’t mean to upset you.”

“Yeah well, you clearly did. Now get out of my way before I move you myself,” you threatened, throwing the stack on the pile from a few feet away before stoming off, Luke having barely enough time to get out of the way before you barged out of the stall with heavy steps.

Uuuuh yeah gonna try and post once a week yeahhh (part 3 us currently one lonely paragraph.)

Also, people in the tag list ? I smooch smooch you so hard it's so weirdly incredible????

Hope you like it <33

- Nana

taglist. @cas-planet @spider-ghoul @smileysunshinesworld @mlbmarichat13 @makinbananapancakes @imafuckinstar @alucardsdaddyissues

[torturedtypewritersdept]

blue eyes + bruises - part one

✯ pairing:

doctor!rafe cameron x fem!reader

✯ summary:

a tragic car accident looks like it'll be the end for you, but dr. cameron is here to make sure that doesn't happen.

✯ warnings:

mature themes, mentions of anxiety, nostalgia, and fear, car accident, death of a spouse (not rafe or y/n), major surgery, injuries, hurt/comfort, angst, fluff, etc.

✯ a/n:

nothing!! please don't engage if you have a hard time with any of these topics <3 this was origianlly posted on my old blog @/illicitfixations, @/lovelornanonymity back in 2021/2022 and i have rewritten + reshared it here :)

m.list

—

Sarah doesn't have lunch often with her brother, but she does today, placing the responsibility of taking care of him on herself, as she always does. Her latest manifestation of this fact is you – her best friend since her college days. He doesn’t know it, but she’s coming to him with a proposition; your sweetness and his intelligence – she knows they’d meld together like a puzzle and that’s precisely why she’s set up a date between the two of you for this evening. She enters the hospital cafeteria slowly, spotting him from across the gigantic space. His shoulders are slumped and she clocks a limp in his step, instantly sure he’s been on his feet for far too long. She smiles softly as they lock eyes and notices his are far more sunken in than she’d like them to be; in fact, they almost resemble the dark black holes of a skull missing its skin and as he makes his way feverishly through the cafeteria line, she wonders if he’s okay. 

“Rafe – you look like you haven’t eaten in six days.” 

She scolded as the older Cameron made his way to the table and sat his tray down across from her. 

“I eat.” 

He grunted in response, rolling his blue orbs into the back of his head at her incessant need to pick him apart in the form of worry. This was why he didn’t return to North Carolina after college, after all. Though he couldn’t in part blame it all on his baby sister, the discontent of his father and the enthralling energy of the city had wooed him and his bride. 

“Yeah, okay, hot shot.” 

She replied, laughing, throwing a french fry in his direction.  

“You’re gonna be mad but I've promised your hand to someone for the evening.” 

She said, giggling. 

“Dammit, Sarah!” 

He replied, the huff that escaped like that of an agitated dog.  

“Come on, big brother! Please – she’s my sweet friend from college and she’s nice and shy and she –” 

“I don’t care. I’m not going.” 

Rafe interjected aggressively. 

“Well, too fucking bad. I already told her you agreed and I’d really hate it if you stood her up. It was like pulling teeth to get her to agree to even give you a chance.” 

“Too. Fucking. Bad.” 

He gritted out. 

“No – don’t play with me, I know you. Rafe Cameron is a lot of things, but he isn’t cruel and it took a lot of convincing for her to come out anyways, so please.” 

Squinting her eyes in annoyance and shaking her head, she waged her war with him blatantly, tired of his bullshit only five minutes into the conversation in only a way that he could ignite.

“Tell that to Molly. She thinks I am.” 

He whispered. 

“No she didn’t – doesn’t.” 

She caught herself, two years later still not used to talking about her sister-in-law in past tense. 

“Just go – please. Get out of this hospital and those fucking ugly scrubs.” 

She pleaded, her soft blue eyes always something he had to give into. 

“Fine, Sarah, I’ll fucking go.” 

He growled, jerking his plate closer to him as he began munching on the chicken tenders that sat in front of him.

— 

Rafe was dreading this date, he didn’t know you or what you were even like and let’s be honest, he hasn’t dated in literal years, hasn’t even given it a thought. After Molly departed from him, he ate, slept, and breathed life in the hospital, too afraid to be in his home alone – too afraid the silence and lack of love would swallow him home; death by a thousand cuts. He felt like that was probably normal for the situation he had found himself in; divorce in the form of death. He stared at himself in the mirror of the locker room, being sure he was ready as his hand tousled through his unruly hair. 

“Sarah’s right – I do look like shit.” 

He muttered, suddenly wondering what this unknown woman would think of him.

 He made his way down the linoleum lined hallway and out of the hospital door a few moments later, the familiar red shine of ambulance lights just out of his peripheral and the screech of the alarm coming from the rig coming to a stop. He watched carefully as they pulled a young woman from the back, her limbs splinted and blood covering her. He wasn't sure what it was; fate or an uneasy stomach, these days he hardly had the capacity to tell the difference. But, whatever the force behind it, she pulled him toward her and as he got close, the date he had planned for suddenly slipped his mind. 

— 

Everything hurt – that was the first thing your brain registered as you pulled your eyes open, the sound of a siren and the beat of your heart blaring simultaneously in your ears. The siren was close, you could tell, but you seemed so distant from it at the same time, so far away and fleeting. You closed your eyes, the darkness overcoming you. It only felt like they had been closed for five seconds, but you were sure it had been longer as you heard the sound of a man’s voice and felt wind around you, signaling your brain that you were moving by the sound of rickety wheels beneath you. The man sounded handsome and kind, his voice deep as it bellowed in the air around you. 

“What do we got?” 

He asked with urgency, looking pointedly at the paramedics, a team of doctors surrounding him. 

“25 year old female, car accident. She went through the windshield – crush injuries, concussion, internal bleeding – she’s barely hanging on.” 

He gingerly nodded at the words of the paramedic and brought a pen light from his pocket, pulling your eyelids back and shining it into them. A groan escaped your lips at the intrusion. 

“Sweetheart, can you hear me?” 

His voice penetrated your ears and for some reason unbeknownst to you, your brain pulled your eyes open, fighting to get to whoever the voice belonged. As you took in the blue eyes that stood over you, you registered who the voice belonged to – sounds and words you could barely register coming from his mouth again. 

“I’m Dr. Rafe Cameron, I’m gonna take care of you, okay?” 

He spoke, sliding his hand in yours, giving you a kind smile. 

“Can you squeeze my hand, for me?” 

Your senses weren’t intact, numbness infiltrated your being but you could feel his calloused hand as it slipped into yours and with all the energy that remained in your body, you squeezed his hand weakly. He smiled – bright and breathtakingly beautiful, teeth so perfectly in line that you were sure he had orthodontic work at some point. You noticed the crinkles by his eyes as his lips parted and his lips turned up. You suddenly regretted not shaving your legs this morning, taking in his handsomely sculpted jaw as he turned his head sideways, stretching his hands across you. You were unsure what was happening until you felt him unhooking the straps that you now realized were draped across your body, securing you to the bed you laid on.

“Move her on three – one, two, three.” 

He chanted out, voice bellowing as his words controlled the move of every person in the room. You weren’t sure what kind of doctor Rafe was, but you knew he was important, that he was a leader, as every nurse and bystander operated under his sole instruction. You closed your eyes as the hands of the people around you lifted you from one bed to another, the jostling of your body breaking through the heavy cloud of numbness and what started as a whimper but quickly turned into a full-fledged bloody murder scream escaped your lips. 

“Easy, sweetheart. I know it hurts.” 

His hands made their way to your hair, pushing the blood-stained strands away from your forehead. His touch was gentle and calming, you had never been touched by a doctor like this, you thought to yourself. 

“R-Rafe?” 

You croaked out, eyes pleading. 

“Hmm?”

He questioned with all his attention on you. His blue eyes raked over your form, studying your face, taking in the distress and the pain that laced it. 

“Gonna die?” 

You questioned, mumbling, incoherently and before he could even respond your eyes rolled into the back of your head, your back arching off the bed as you your body shook into a fit of convulsions. 

“She’s crashing!” 

One of the nurses yelled out.  

“We’ve got to get her to the OR now, get me a neuro consult and page Dr. Richardson, I have no doubt in my mind she’s hemorrhaging.” 

As soon as he muttered out the words, Rafe was straddling you on the gurney, legs on either side of your hips as his palms laid flat against your chest, fingers interlocking with each other as he violently, urgently pressed up and down in an attempt to restart your heart. 

“Not today, sweet girl. Not today.” 

He whispered, continuing chest compressions as the nurses and doctors wheeled the gurney the two of you were on into the operating room. 

—

masterlist:

as always, if you'd like to be added to or removed from the taglist, please shoot me an ask or comment on this post so i can keep track <3

@maybankslover @inthelibrarybtw @luvrcndy @silkylovey @yagirlwrites @obxbabygirl @rafeecameronsbitch @klutzy-kay24 @roseczbalt @akobx @allsmilesreally7

[strangersteddierthings]

Platonic Stobin bodyswap AU idea I'll never write. This has been in my drafts for over a year (since July 2023 per the timestamp)

Post season 3; During the season 3 bathroom confession scene Robin came out to Steve, and Steve came out to her. She knows he's bi, and she's the only one who knows. Swap starts off slowly for Steve and Robin. Little moments of vertigo where the world doesn't look right for a few seconds, that progresses to black out periods of time spanning 5-15 minutes. It's them switching bodies but it's so traumatizing (they are FREAKING out) that they don't remember it. So, it's like they're just losing moments in time, which still freaks them out.

Then one day they wake up and they're... each other. And they just don't go back.

And Steve can't really pass as Robin to her parents but thankfully they just blame it on 'moody teenage angst' and "you can talk to us about anything babygirl we love you so much and we're here when you need us." Which. Yeah, Steve cries about. But it also comes with the side of GOD FUCKING DAMMIT I HAVE TO FINISH HIGH SCHOOL AGAIN??? I CAN'T PLAY THE TRUMPET ROBIN YOU HAVE TO DROP OUT OF BAND

And Robin also cannot pass as Steve at first, but she gets to see how that matters exactly 0% because the Harrington's don't even notice. They also aren't around near as much as Steve makes them out to be. But she does get to enjoy the freedom of a legal drivers license and no job currently. HOWEVER she has walked Steve's pretty face into several doors/poles/walls because cute girls keep looking at her with hunger in their eyes and she doesn't know how to handle this.

(It makes more girls interested in a suddenly shy, stumbling, nervous Steve because those girls think they're the reason Confident Sex God Steve turns into a mess but really it's just Robin not knowing how to exist in a world where woman want her and fish fear her (sorry bad joke))

Anyway, queue shenanigannary for a bit. Steve encourages Robin to go on dates because why not get some practice in while they wait to swap back again? (he's holding out hope)

Do they have the awkward discussion of 'what are the limits to what I'm allowed to do in your body????? I dunno yet.

Anyway, Robin goes on dates. ((Does she end up going on a date with Vickie? Canonically Vickie's got no problem dating older boys? How to solve this plot line for when(if?) they switch back bodies? IDK dudes, that's Future Jess's issue.))

At some point, the gang finds out. Probably Dustin realizing Steve isn't as Steve-like as usual. He'd sniff out something was wrong with his brother for sure.

But then season 4 starts. Robin taught Steve how to play the trumpet back in August/Sept and it's then they realize that they kind of share their knowledge? Like... Steve picks up how to play the trumpet EASY. At first they think it's just Robin's body using muscle memory but then Robin realizes she knows things only Steve should.

Anyway, Steve is in band with Vickie the night of the Championshipgame, chatting easily while also trying to hint that 'Hey, I think Steve Harrington is checking you out???" while trying to tell Robin with telepathy (that they don't have... yet? Decide if they end up with telepathy later) to try and subtly check out Vickie. But neither girl is subtle so they both just whip around to stare at each other and Steve is facepalming.

NO WAIT. DO I MAKE CHANGES TO THE NARRATIVE BECAUSE IF STEVE IS IN HIGH SCHOOL AGAIN, THERE IS NO WAY HE'D LET DUSTIN AND MIKE SKIP OUT ON THE CHAMPIONSHIP GAME. Maybe??? Will decide on this point later. Until then, above points stay.

Anyway, Chrissy still dies (sorry) and Eddie's still on the run, but like this time in the boathouse, Robin invites Eddie to stay at 'his' big empty house 'cause the parents are gone and Robin has no hangups about Eddie like Steve did in canon (he is the first person we hear call Eddie The Freak).

The end point here is that Robin, Steve, and Eddie spend A LOT of time together at Steve's house and then the angst falls in because Steve starts to fall in love with Eddie.

So, he has a breakdown in a bathroom with Robin about it, all sad and crying like "I really fuckin' like him Robs, but I can't- there- we can't-"

"I need you to take a breath and tell me what the issue is," Robin says.

"I like him Robs, but this is your body. I can't take things from you. Like your first kiss. And I certainly can't- I won't put your body through... you know. I can't do that to you."

And it takes Robin a moment to process what he means. Romantic entanglements that Steve might want to have would have to happen with her body. And maybe Robin isn't sure what to say/do because the thought of a guy and his dick anywhere near her body immediately freaks her out but... she's not in her body. She's in Steves, and has been doing things with girls in it. It never occurred to her that Steve might want to get hot and heavy with a guy in her body and maybe she's got something to unpack there???

Anyway, no time to worry about that. Vecna's gonna kill Max so they gotta go. Also, Eddie does NOT know about the body swap.

She does tell Steve to kiss Eddie, though, in the end. When they're not sure they'll live. So, Eddie calls out to Steve. "Make him pay." So, to Eddie, it looks like Steve gives him a nod and it's Robin who marches up, grabs his face, and plants one on him. Robin(Steve) doesn't stick around long enough for Eddie to kiss back (Steve wants him to because he wants a proper kiss from Eddie, but he also doesn't want him to because Eddie thinks he's kissing Robin and if he kisses back it means he likes Robin, not Steve, so Steve doesn't lock lips long enough find out).

Something something they all survive and then Eddie, hopped up on pain meds in the hospital, demands to speak to Robin. So, Steve slinks in, afraid of what's going to happen, and Eddie's like 'Robin. I appreciate that you like me but you are unfortunately a girl and I am not into that.' And Steve is like!!! my time!! It's come!!! I HAVE to get back to my body.

And then at some point they switch back. Maybe El doing some mind fuckery? Idk.

And for fun, here's the beginning of the fic that idea written out:

"Whoa," Steve blinks rapidly as the world tilts and shifts. It's very sudden, and over just as quickly as it started, but it still leaves Steve unanchored for a moment. It was probably brought on by the concussion he's been nursing these last two days, since the whole Starcourt shit. He leans sideways to try and use the wall as an anchor until everything feel right again.

He should, probably, be more concerned about this because this has been like, the fourth time this has happened and when he told Robin about it, she confessed it was happening to her, too. That Owens guy had told them there could be unknown side effects to whatever the fuck they'd been injected with and this might just be part of that. It'll fade, Steve's sure, as the days go on. Never mind that it has been happening more lately. It's going to fade. It has to.

Except, it doesn't. The sensation of be unanchored gets worse, and now it comes accompanied with loss of time. Steve will feel the tilt and shift while standing in the doorway to his room and the next thing he knows he's got a hand on his front door, keys in his hand, and doesn't know where he was trying to go.

Ring Ring

Steve shakes his head, shakes away the feeling of wrongness and goes to answer the phone. "Harrington residence, Steve speaking."

"Steve! Steve, it's getting worse!" Robin's voice sobs at him from the other end of the phone. "I-I was in the kitchen and then I was, like, huddled in the bathroom and I don't remember going there."

"Fuck, me too. I just came to standing at my front door, about to leave but I don't remember getting there, or where I was planning to go," Steve confesses back. It's strange, how easily Robin has become a part of his life. He was expecting her to not want to be withing five miles of him ever again, after what he got her dragged into, but it seems Robin isn't scared away. Perhaps it's just that he's the only other person she knows who went through Russian torture. Even if that is the case, Steve'll take it. He likes Robin a lot.

"Should we... call Dr. Owens?" Robin sounds so small when she asks.

"I don't want to," Steve confesses but doesn't elaborate. Calling Dr. Owens means admitting that something is wrong wrong. Steve doesn't want anything to be that wrong. He wants to get back to his life. He's got to get back to job searching, too, and Dr. Owens might deny him that.

[a-b-riddle]

A Simple (Mis) Understanding Chapter Two: Numbness & Pain

Daisy

I always used to think it was an exaggeration of how pregnancy is a constant state of exhaustion. But it was a lot of work growing a tiny human. Add in the fact that I'm still working 40 + hours a week and, of course, something is always causing some sort of discomfort or pain.

Swollen feet, back pain, nausea; I can't even find any solace in sleep. The 32 week mark felt so close, yet still so far. Another eight or so weeks of this seems like a drop in the bucket compared to how far along I am, but still. That still another two months. So far away when you want to be done, but still too short compared to everything I still have yet to do.

Another two months to set up a crib and wash her new clothes. Another two months to figure out a name and make decisions that I always envisioned making with a partner. Another two months of struggling to do things like picking up shit off the floor or staying on my feet long enough to make a decent meal.

But right now, I wasn't worried about the two months ahead of me and all the things I still have to do. Right now, I was looking forward to a three day undisturbed weekend. The pain in my feet and sciatica was becoming so bad, I had taken Friday off to see a doctor and spend the rest of the weekend doing nothing, but sitting in my modest little house and watching mind rotting television. I might even indulge in some spicy reading. Heaven knows its been too long.

Or at least, it hasn't been since them. That day in the office, but... that really didn't count. I often wrestled with myself about it. That one time erased any feelings I had for any of them. But I felt a bit pathetic how it now tainted every good memory I had with them. Kyle bringing me something to snack on when he realized I hadn't gone to the mess hall. Price always having a cup of earl grey tea cooling for me first thing in the morning. Two packs of zero calorie sweetner and a bit of honey.

Sweet like you.

I couldn't stand the smell of it now. I blamed it on the hormones. A lot of things made me queasy, but something about the smell of the bergamot, made me sick in a completely different way. A feeling not of nausea, but of... fear. Like the same way a pentagram could summon demons, earl grey could summon mine. As if John Price was somehow there any time the scent lingered in the air.

But he wasn't. None of them were. Fuck. Why did my thoughts always go back to them at some point? No. This was going to be a relaxing weekend god dammit. Fuck them.

Almost angrily, I hit the garage key fob, shutting the door and engulfing me into darkness; a thin line of light leaking through the bottom of the garage door. When I had opened my door, I could at least see a path to my mudroom. I grabbed my purse, ready to go in, when I felt it.

Hundreds of needles. Stabbing and digging into my feet. Not just the soles, but the entire fucking foot the moment I bared any weight on them. I pulled off my flats and it was then I noticed how angry they looked. Red and swollen and all but screaming at me to sit my fat ass back down. I wiggled my toes, trying to get some blood flow. Fuck. Why didn't they hurt while I was driving?

I manage to get onto my feet, using the car door as support. Steading myself until I was ready to take the first step. By the time I had managed to all but crawl inside, ten minutes had passed since my initial arrival time. I got off at 5:00, but usually didn't log off until almost 6:00. Granted, I work from home, but I had run out of a few essentials. Essentials now that were in the boot of my car.

Fuck.

10 minutes won't hurt. Not like there is any thing frozen. Speaking of which, I forgot my ice cream... dammit. I really need to start keeping a list on the fridge. It's hard to remember when pregnancy brain (or stomach) takes over and I slam a container in a single sitting.

Grabbing a pillow from the couch, I went to the kitchen. Which considering the town house, or terraced housing I suppose now, was perfect for a single and expecting Omega it was cozy. Not like the base where going from the common area to the chow hall was about a three minute stroll.

I get down and lay on my back. Carefully maneuvering so my ass rests against the cabinets before I hook the back of my heels unto the counter top so I could rest my feet a bit. Not the most sanitary, but it wasn't like I had guests. It was just me. For now.

It took a few moments to adjust. My back ached against the hardwood, but I could already feel the relief from my feet and legs. It wasn't all that shocking that I was having a hard time with them. I had gained a considerable amount of weight during my pregnancy. When I had brought it up to the OBGYN about possibly cutting back on food, her suggestion was to simply not weigh myself at home. Now when I went in for a visit they made me turn around before taking my weight.

It was hard. I've always had a problem with how I looked and now adding pregnancy then taking away the option to diet and exercise didn't exactly help.

I pulled out my phone and was preparing to open my kindle app when I saw a tiny red bar in the top right corner of my phone. Of course. I get nice and settled and my phone is on 2 fucking percent. Whatever. I tell Alexa to set an a timer for fifteen minutes and take a little nap. Maybe meditate.

A knock on the door quickly brings any possibility of relaxation to a pause. Margaret next door was dropping off Winnie off early to go to her book club. Margaret was a widow and a recent empty nester. She had spent her life as a mother and a homemaker. When I got custody of Winnie two months ago, she had quickly stepped up in helping me with everything from child rearing to managing my pregnancy.

"Hello, Maggie!" I greeted from the floor. "Hello, Winnie Darling." Winnie had the same sand colored hair as me and bright green eyes. Her face was a shade of red and I could smell her from the entryway. Someone would need a bath today. Fantastic.

"Oh, Dear!" Maggie fussed, setting Winnie down on her feet before coming over to me. "Are you alright?" Winnie didn't bother stopping to hug me like she normally would before making a beeline toward the potty. She usually was a creature of habit, but nature calls I suppose.

"Feet are a bit swollen." I waved off. "Just resting them a bit."

"I don't have to go tonight." She set her bag down. A deep green corduroy shoulder bag that always had just what you needed in it. A wet wipe, hand sanitizer, a spare tissue and even a stain pen when a spill happened at the most inconvenient time. "I'll stay and-"

"Maggie." I said, trying my best to sound at firm, but it was hard with her. No one told Maggie 'no'. "It's alright. Just a bit of water retention. Nothing to fret over." And it wasn't. I could already feel the pain from earlier subside.

"Really, it's no bother." She argued, bending over to unstrap one of her shoes. "It's a bloody stupid book anyway. I just go for the gossip really."

"Maggie." I tried again. "Really."  "It's getting close to the due date and I don't want to burn out on me just yet." It was a lie. Even with her greying hair, a deepened laugh line, Maggie didn't burn out. She was one of the few Omegas I had met in my life and she could run circles around any of them, myself included.

The sound of flushing sounded from the bathroom followed by the faucet. She huffed before slipping her shoe back on. "If you insist."

"I do." I encouraged. As much as I loved having Maggie's help, I hated feeling like a burden. She had raised her children. It was time for her to do things for herself. "Besides, we'll see you tomorrow after my appointment tomorrow." The bathroom door clicked open, revealing my little Win with the front of her smock covered in water. Fantastic.

"Hi, Mommy." Winnie finally greeted. Her freshly washed hands dripping water droplets onto the hardwood. "What are you doing?"

"My feet hurt so I'm just letting them rest." I explained, looking up at her. Winnie was rambunctious as most four-year-olds without a sense of self preservation are, but when I explained to her how careful she had to be now that I had her sister in my belly, her nature had become more gentle.

It worried me as much as it warmed my heart. 

"Why don't you sit on the couch?" She asked. Her head tilting to the side, face etched as if she were trying to figure out my reasoning.

"Because it helps when you lift your feet up high in the sky, Winnie Pooh." Maggie explained before looking back at me. "Well if you're sure-"

"I am. Go." I urged. "We'll see you tomorrow. Lunch around noon?" Spending time with Maggie didn't make me feel like such a parasite when I knew she enjoyed the company. Her children had all moved away, only one staying in the UK. She wasn't so alone, but neither was I.

"Wouldn't miss it." She gave a soft smile. The laugh lines around her face deepening. "See you tomorrow, Dearies." She said, retreating back outside. The soft sound of the door clicking behind her.

Winnie had laid down beside me. Yep. Definitely going to need a bath tonight. "How was school today?" Winnie went to a pre-school that was luckily covered under my insurance. Perks of being an Omega. I'll take it where and when I can.

She talked about going to the playground and painting. All the usual bits. Who she played with and new things she learned. Then came the question. A question she had asked before in passing. A subject I changed with ease before. 'Have you brushed your teeth? How about another episode of Bluey? Put on your trainers (because we can't just say tennis shoes anymore) and we'll go for a walk to the park. I had skirted around the question with ease. 

"Why don't you have a mate if you have a baby?" Winnie was too young to get the answers to a lot of life's difficult questions. Why did Tiffany not like us? Why didn't she get to see her daddy anymore? Why did that man look at you weird on the train, mommy?  I wish she would just stay this little. That she never needed or want to know the harsh truths about me, us.

"I..." I wracked my brain for an answer and just came up short. I couldn't think of a way to sugarcoat it. We almost had a mate. Mates. We almost had a pack that would have walked you to school on the mornings my feet were too sore or I was already running late. They would have loved you. "It... it's complicated, Darling." Is what I chose instead. The other worrisome fact is that Winnie was too young to understand the concept about mates. I had never broached the subject which only means she probably heard it from some little shithead at school. 

Wonderful.

"I'll explain it when you're older." I promise, closing my eyes and letting her snuggle into the crook of my arm. "Do you wanna rest your eyes with me?"

"Like when I'm five?" She asks putting one of her hands underneath my shirt onto my belly. It had become a thing she had started since I told her about the baby.

"Maybe six." I said, looking down at her. She gave a yawn before closing her eyes.

"I think five is better."

"Okay, Win." I said. "When you're five we'll talk about it." It was a promise I hoped she would forget. But I didn't want to negotiate with a four-year-old about something future me could deal with. I wanted just 15 minutes of this. I order Alexa to set a timer to make sure we haven't dozed too far off. Winnie still needed to shower and eat. I still needed to get the groceries out of the car. But I could spare another 15 minutes.

[onepiecepetalfanfics089]

I’m loving all your fics so much, could I ask for a platonic Yandere strawhat crew with trainee CP9 reader, who knows how bad they are but can’t leave? (Maybe slight Yandere CP9 as well)

Mission~

Warning:Cursing/Possessive behavior/Vulgar Language!~

“Dammit, Dammit, Dammit!”

You cursed, clutching the ringing transponder snail in your hands, holding it down to your best ability to not let any of the sound get out.

How in hell did you even find yourself in this situation?!

This was your first solo mission and somehow, some way, you ended up onboard the Strawhats ship. Literally the enemy of the government? And your whole group! You already knew for a fact that Rob Lucci would be on your ass for one, not picking up immediately and two, being so reckless that you ended up being a ‘guest’ on the agency your training for worst enemy!

Dread soon washed over you as you heard a knock on the door..

You were in the storage room, luckily making them buy an excuse that you lost something in there..

This was the first time in weeks those god forsaken pirates have let you out of their sight so you were trying to savor you time as much as you could.

A more persistent knock on the wooden door of the storage room on the ship caught you to zone back into this situation. Biting your lip, goosebumps slowly arose on your arms from that deep, masculine voice with a undertone of something you couldn’t comprehend that spoke from outside the room.

“Hey Y/N?..you’ve been in their for a while. What are You getting anyway? Do you need my help to come find it..?” The door knob slightly jiggled, causing you stiffen and stuff the still dinging transponder snail under whatever you could find.

“..Why the hell is the door locked Y/N? Open it!.. and what’s that ringing noise in there..?..!”

Zoro Said, his voice now laced with utter annoyance. You took a deep breath, glancing around the room for a second to figure out how you could calm this green haired swordsman down.

Putting on the sweetest voice you could manage, you now locked your eyes on the wooden door before you.

“Oh no zoro im fine I swear! It’s just the thing I lost is uh..personal, yeah!”

You said, nodding right yourself in hopes he would take your lousy excuse for an excuse and go back to the crew. There was a pause, a pause that made you swear you could just feel his eyes boring into that wooden door, right where you were currently.

“Okay..just hurry up alright? Sanji Said dinner is almost ready..”

His voice sounded more calmer but a little like a grumble. You sighed in relief and nodded, even though you knew he couldn’t see you.

“Right..I’ll be there in a few.”

And with that, his footsteps slowly echoed away through the deck. Letting out a soft sigh in relief, you paused for a moment yourself. Taking notice of your surroundings. The chest nut wooden doors and walls..the random items and tools in piles of boxes..

How did you get into this again?..

Oh right..you wanted to be part of CP9 so you took any mission you could get and somehow ended up here..

Ring-Ring

Ring-Ring

Ring-Ring

Ring-Ring

Ring-Ring

Oh fuck..

With trembling hands, you slowly picked up the line on the transponder snail to be met with a chilling cold, calm and almost venomous voice. Shivers ran down your spine as you could already tell you had awoken the strangely possessive and scary side of the CP9 crew you knew.

“Y/N...where the hell are you? I’ve been calling you for only god knows how long.”

You could already tell he was dissatisfied and maybe even scowling..

“Is that Y/N?? She’s okay?”

Kalifa’s worried voice made Rob Lucci sigh loudly.

“Yes. They’re on the call right now but they haven’t spoken yet..”

“Y/N! Where have you been?! We’ve been so worried! You’re not even an official member and you just-”

“Kalifa, calm down. I’m sure they have a good explanation to all of this nonsense..right?”

A gruff voice then came from the snail and couldn’t help but groan. That was Jabra and knowing him, he was probably pissed as well but didn’t want to say it.

“Uh well, I’ve been um..”

How were you going to tell them you’ve been hanging out with their worst enemies?! The ones that got in the way of their job and took them and the world government on?!

“It’s just I may have gotten stranded. On a island but now I’m staying with some nice..people who offered to take me home! Where are you guys currently so I can tell them exactly..?”

You said, trying to change the topic. You wished you had the balls to tell the crew the location to drop you off..

“Didn’t we already tell you? You really have a bad memory Y/N, you know that?”

Kaku’s voice echoed on the transponder snail and your heart did a flip. Were they all there just to lecture you?!

But to set stuff aside, they told you the location and gave a very vicious warning to hurry back soon and to not let it happen again. Most of the conversation you nodded and gave an occasional ‘mhm!’ to not risk any more anger.

After you hung up, or rather after they hung up on you, you let out a breath you didn’t even know you were holding.

Looking around for a thing that would be the object you quote on quote ‘lost’ you found a random notepad. Taking a deep breath, you opened the storage room door, letting the afternoon breeze hit you.

Feeling at peace for a moment you closed your eyes and shut the door, only to be met by feminine and soft like hands springing from the ground and trapping you in a tight, tight embrace.

.

.

.

.

.

Your body tingled as the sensation of hands sprouting from the ground, one could only mean one thing, it was Robin doing it and two, you had been caught in the clutches of one of the smartest straw hats on board and you had to tell her what you were doing in there and why.

Letting out a nervous chuckle, you turned to the black hair woman only a few feet from you.

“O-Oh hey Robin! You caught me off guard there heh..”

She chuckled softly, her voice smooth and almost calming. Just by the look in her eye, you could tell she was calculating in her mind. Studying and observing you..just like she always did.

“Well I’m sorry..I didn’t mean to scare you there..I just got a little carried away since you were in that storage room…looking for something was it?..did you find it?..”

Her voice now laced with suspicion, she locked her deep blue eyes into yours, an almost challenging stare.

“Oh yeah..! It was an notepad..I just love keep track of things you know..?”

She let out a relaxed hum as an understanding and you held back the urge to sigh heavily in relief. She would probably take a hint on just that..

Since Robin was so clever and observant..she had no problem with finding out your true intentions..and telling the others your true intentions..

You knew that by dealing with the consequences.

Dinner and the rest of the day went on as usual ever since you got here, everyone in the crew keeping a sharp eye on you and everything you did. Luffy butting in on almost every conversation to tell or show you something stupid. Sanji insisting you have more food and giving you seconds even though you didn’t want any and not letting you take even a step out of the mess hall until you cleared your plate. Franky and Usopp taking every chance they got to try and make you laugh or show you their newest inventions. And of course, Zoro repeatedly pouring you more sake when your cup was only half full.

Of course from all that time spending and sake, you felt tired and most importantly, buzzed from all that sake Zoro had been giving to you. Feeling like you needed to let things out for once you took out that notepad from the storage room you found.

Soon, you began to scribble away everything. How you felt about the strawhats, that you were a trainee in CP9 and how you wish everyone would calm down. Soon, you had multiple pages filled with your feelings and you had to admit, it felt good to let everything out!

Setting the notepad down on your bed the cabin you yawned with a stretch. Why on earth do you feel so sleepy all of a sudden?..you definitely have been drinking too much sake with Zoro..

Laying down, you slowly pulled your cover up and stared at the ceiling..fluttering your eyes closed to sleep at last..

When you woke up, the sound of chains jangling filled your ears. Wait a minute..

Chains..?

Looking around it seemed like you were in captains quarters..aka luffy’s cabin, but why..?

Dread and fear now consumed your mind and body as you tried to at least sit up but failed. These chains were tight around your wrists and legs, causing almost no hope for escape.

What the hell did you even do this time?!

Rattling your brain for answers you finally came to a conclusion…

The notepad…

Someone must’ve read it and told everyone..you started to look around the dark lit room with only the moon shining through the window. Cold sweat dripped from your forehead as you then felt the presence of at least two people..

A gentle hand pushed you down on the bed you were laying in as a familiar voice filled the room.

“So, you were working for CP9 huh?”

You gulped..

“Don’t worry! We’re not mad hah!..why would we? You’re never going back there anyways!”

Before you could even respond to that you felt a straw hat being placed on your face..

A voice then smooth as chocolate and almost calming then whispered to you, very, very close to your ear like it was trapping you.

“We’ve always had our suspicions all along about your little Mission anyway, but now you’ve made it so easy..but dont worry your little head off..we’ll take good care of you as long as your nice from now on..”

A/N:

Hiiii my lovely petals!!honestly I’m just going to stop announcing when I’m posting because I always have things to do them or I fall asleep 😭😭 so I’m probably not going to to announce it anymore lol! But I hope y’all enjoyed this because I did! I tried to make this long enough and keep it interesting 😗😉 so sorry that this too so long to the person who requested this ❤️😭 if you ever want me to do another by you just say you requested this and I’ll probably drop everything and do yours first to pay back time 😭 but man I did miss writing! I’m so sorry I’m posting so late btw but I was determined and there was NO WAY I was about to miss another day and keep y’all waiting..but anyways, a new story or two next week and I hope y’all had an amazing thanksgiving and week/day!! I’ll see you soon my pretty petals and I hope you loved this and I wish you well! Also sorry if there is spelling mistakes I’ll fix them if I notice them!!❤️🌸💖❤️🌸

[cinnamonest]

Anon at literally any given moment my brain is consumed with thoughts of Goro, I have so many Goro concepts that gnaw at my mind at all times

One specific one though is a PhantomThief!Darling.

One of his classmates, perhaps, even though you don’t see him that much given his frequent absences, or someone he met through his ventures in the entertainment industry. Someone he managed to get close to, was able to talk to him enough that he opened up to you, and as much as it frustrates him to acknowledge even just to himself, he has an emotional attachment.

Regardless, his beloved darling, the one person that brings him some semblance of joy and comfort in his life, the one person he allows himself to feel genuine affection for, who doesn't get pushed back to arm's length like everyone else. And thereby, someone he's vulnerable to, someone he trusts, someone he holds dear, even if he hasn't been honest with you about the full extent of those feelings.

That’s why it makes him so angry, when he finds out.

The first time, it catches him so off-guard, the whole composed presentation he usually carefully maintains, completely slips off for a second, leaving him stunned and slack-jawed.

He was going to meet you, you know, to catch up, and you gladly accepted that. You said something about how you felt guilty for taking up his time — it’s admittedly quite comforting, being able to read between the lines, knowing you see yourself as below him in status and likely feel grateful that someone like him would give you time and attention.

So to round the corner and see you smiling and laughing and talking to someone, the way his eyes casually travel over to see exactly who you’re facing, who you’re talking with so happily — he freezes mid-step, shoulders tensing up, smile dropping in an instant, the second he lays eyes on that godforsaken pair of big glasses and frizzy hair.

He recovers before you actually spot him, but you still notice tension in his voice and posture nonetheless — you can dismiss it as simply a rough day, maybe.

I wasn’t aware the two of you even knew each other. Small world, isn’t it?

You say you just happened to run into the guy while waiting. What a coincidence.

And Joker doesn’t linger either, he seems to recognize the awkward atmosphere, makes a quick exit with a nod and a farewell of assurance that he’ll see you both later, a statement that makes Goro bite his tongue.

It takes every ounce of self-control he has not to delve into endless questions on the exact circumstances and details of your relationship with him. He tries to tell himself he’s better off not knowing the details — anything you tell him will only keep him up all night, playing out visuals in his head. Even as it is, he knows that the image of you smiling like that will linger in his head for weeks on end, every second of remembrance filling his gut with a pit of bitter irritation.

It feels pathetic. It is pathetic, and he knows it. That only makes it that much worse, the sense of shame and embarrassment weighing down like an anchor in his chest, a burning, discomforting sensation.

But he refrains. Keeps the evening as normal as possible, tries to pretend as if he saw nothing, as if the interaction didn’t happen, he fights the urge and fights the urge and in the end, it comes spilling out anyway, so awkwardly and ill-timed that he has to resist the urge to slam his head into the wall right there out of self-directed frustration.

By the way, how exactly do you two know each other…?

It was a question he was better off not asking. You first need clarification of who he’s referring to — dammit, it’s been so long it wasn’t clear, and does that make it obvious that it’s been bothering him all evening…? — and even then, your answer is dodgy, avoidant, vague.

He doesn’t like the implications of that.

Why do you not want him to know? What specifically are you avoiding telling him? There’s only really two possibilities — either you’re fucking the guy and the truth would make that fact obvious, or you know, and the real story would explain exactly how.

And if you know, that might just mean you’re involved.

He’s not sure which possibility makes his stomach churn worse.

He has enough self-control to not make his suspicions too obvious, to let the matter go and not press further. It’s not until another conversation, another day, that he brings up the matter more directly, finding a convenient avenue to bring up the matter via a trail of conversation about his work.

By the way, I’ve been meaning to ask you… what are your feelings on the Phantom Thieves?

You give an answer that’s overall disapproving. Just complex enough to lend you a sense of intellectualism, but overall well-aligned with his own public statements.

A little too well, actually.

Like you’re just telling him what you think he wants to hear.

He grinds his teeth and beneath the table his fingers curl and dig into his thigh, but his pleasant smile doesn’t falter.

The suspicion that you’re not being fully transparent with him eats away at him. It keeps him awake all night, that night.

He doesn’t tell you about the second time he sees you together. That time, it’s by coincidence that you manage to cross paths, and he manages to go unnoticed — watching as you converse with the whole group of them together. You seem awfully comfortable with them. Like you’re used to being a part of this group. Like you've interacted with the lot of them many times before.

It makes his skin crawl. It makes his mind race with questions. It makes his thoughts drift to unpleasant things.

But he’s only finally vindicated within the metaverse itself. Once he actually, finally sees it with his own eyes, stalking behind the band of thieves, and lo and behold, there you are.

It feels so damn satisfying to be right, to have that vindication, that sort of I-knew-it rush of euphoria — and at the same time, the absolute rage is practically blinding, all-consuming. He’s left standing still, watching, blood running cold through his veins.

Look at you. Jumping all around, fighting shadows, complete with a fitting little outfit and all. It’s endearing, adorable even.

It makes him feel sick.

He’s known you longer. He’s done a lot for you in the past. And the thanks he gets from you is total betrayal. Allying yourself with the people working against him, knowingly, knowing how he feels about it, knowing it’s working against him directly — and you still have the audacity to see him regularly, to lie to him, to pretend like you’re on his side of things. You're actively deceiving him, and fully content with doing so.

The bitterness and spite that wells up in his chest is petulant, and he knows that. That makes the myriad of emotions that much more frustrating — to feel such unadulterated rage, yet that anger itself is embarrassing, makes him feel humiliated just to acknowledge his own feelings — and that intensifies the rage itself because it's your fault he feels that way, a self-perpetuating cycle of negativity.

And moreover, as childish as the thought feels, he can't help but succumb to the bitterness of the notion that you essentially have chosen them over him.

Is it merely ideological? Is that it? You just truly believe in their cause? Do you just like them more? Did he do something to lose favor with you? Did you never care for him that much at all? Is it circumstantial, they helped you and now you're helping them? And if that's it, why did it have to be the Phantom Thieves that helped you? Why didn't you go to him?

Why?

But all that restraint and self-control he exercises so perfectly externally takes a lot of effort. Internally, he gives in quite easily to letting his mind wander.

It’s so easy to cave to the fury, let himself be consumed by hateful thoughts and fantasies of vengeance, even the darkest and most petulant ones.

He’s always planned on killing them. He could make you watch. He knows he couldn't bring himself to kill you, but maybe he could make you think he's going to. Or he could threaten to turn you in, make you face the possibility of prison time. It would be satisfying, to see the fear etched onto your face. To see you grovel at his feet.

And if he gave you the choice — would you choose him, or to die with them? Would you betray them for him, if it meant being spared? Would you help him achieve his own goals, if it came down to it?

Maybe you'd say you’re sorry. Maybe you'd cry. He thinks he'd like that.

In fact, the more he thinks it through, the more it comes together, the more plausible it seems.

It will be easy. Just give him some time, and he'll ensure the circumstances work out perfectly to give him the opportunity to execute his fantasies down to the exact details.

And maybe if you beg for it, he can even forgive you, too.

[samazing0831]

A Letter Never Sent - Dean Winchester x Reader

Dean finds a letter you never meant for him to read - not yet, maybe not ever. But once your secret is out, there's no putting it back. Years of longing, fear, and love unravel in the quiet of a motel room, where emotions boil over and the truth refuses to stay buried. You thought you'd protected yourself by staying silent. Dean thought he protected you by doing the same. Turns out, all you were doing was hurting each other.

Dean Winchester x Reader

1.2k words

The battered envelope sat in Dean’s calloused hands, edges worn from months of being shoved into a duffel bag, tucked away in a journal, and hidden under motel pillows. It had survived hunts, close calls, and long, sleepless nights. But it had never been read. Not until now.

Dean swallowed hard, his thumb tracing over your handwriting on the front. He found it by accident - your bag knocked over in the rush of packing, spilling out loose papers and shotgun shells. He hadn’t meant to snoop. But the way his name was scrawled across the front? He couldn’t ignore it.

He wasn’t even sure if you meant for him to find it.

With a deep breath, he unfolded the letter, his heart pounding as his eyes scanned the words.

Dean,

If you’re reading this, either I’ve left, or I’m dead. I’m sorry that this never got to you while I was still here, but I don’t think I could have stayed after giving this to you…

I’ve been in love with you for years, Dean. And I can’t tell you exactly when or how I knew, but it’s been this way for a long, long time. I can’t tell you how many times I watched you bring some girl back to your hotel room, wishing it was me. Or how many times I watched you flirt with some girl at the bars, wishing I got a taste of what you wanted to give them.

I’m sorry I didn’t tell you before, but you have to know that I was doing what I thought was best. You wouldn’t have felt the same way, and Sammy would have tried to get in the middle, and it would have been a trainwreck. So, I sat in silence, torturing myself for years, just wanting you to notice me.

Please, move on from me. Whether it’s my absence or my death, I don’t want you hung up on me, or how I felt…

I love you.

Dean’s breath hitched as he read the last line. His fingers clenched around the paper, knuckles going white as the words sank in.

You loved him.

For years.

And you never said a damn thing.

A broken laugh escaped him, bitter and hollow. Of course, you thought he wouldn’t feel the same. Of course, you convinced yourself that leaving was the best choice. Because that’s what hunters did, right? They pushed away the people who mattered most before they had the chance to get hurt.

But you didn’t get it. You were already everything to him. You had been for years.

“Dammit,” he whispered, his voice raw.

A noise in the doorway snapped him out of his thoughts.

You stood there, holding a greasy burger bag and a six-pack of beer. You froze mid-step when you saw the letter in his hand.

“How did you get that?” you asked, a hint of panic in your voice.

Dean’s head snapped up, eyes wide with something he couldn’t quite name - anger, maybe heartbreak, certainly confusion.

“You left it,” he said, his voice rough. He held up the letter between two fingers, the paper now crinkled with tension. “Tucked in your duffel, like you wanted me to find it, but not soon enough to stop you.”

Your stomach dropped as you froze in place.

“I -” You didn’t know what to say. Your chest tightened as you saw the way his jaw clenched, the way his grip on the paper tightened like it was the only thing keeping him from falling apart.

“You were just gonna leave, huh?” he asked, his voice low but steady, though there was an edge to it. “Or worse - this was some kind of goodbye before I even knew I lost you?”

“I wasn’t planning on leaving,” you admitted, guilt flooding you. “I just… had a feeling that one of our next hunts was going to go bad. I needed to get it off my chest. But we don’t have to talk about it.”

Dean let out a bitter laugh, shaking his head, but his eyes didn’t leave yours. “Yeah, well, kinda too late for that now, don’t you think?”

He crossed his arms, clearly trying to hold it together, though the tension was palpable.

“You really thought I wouldn’t have noticed?” he asked. “That I wouldn’t have seen the way you looked at me? The way you pulled away every time I got too close? Hell, Sam probably knew before I did.”

Your breath caught in your throat.

“Sammy knew?” you whispered.

He exhaled sharply, rubbing a hand over his jaw. “So what now? You tell me to forget it? Like this - like you - don’t mean a damn thing to me?”

Your throat went dry. “I get it, Dean,” you said, voice trembling. “I’m sorry. I thought I was doing the right thing. I thought it was better for the both of us.”

Dean’s eyes darkened, his expression hardening. “You really think you were protecting me by running away? By keeping me in the dark?”

“I thought I was protecting myself too,” you whispered. “I’m not the girl you deserve, Dean. I’m not the pretty one, the feminine one. You deserve someone better than me.”

Dean’s eyes flared with frustration, and he stood up from the chair. “You really think I give a damn about pretty?” he said, voice rough. “I’ve been through hell and back, and you’re the one person who’s been right by my side, through everything.”

He closed the distance between you two, his voice softening as he stood close enough for you to feel the heat radiating from him. “You think I don’t feel the same way?” His voice cracked. “I didn’t tell you because I was afraid. I didn’t think I’d get to have this. But here you are, and you’re telling me it’s too late. You’re telling me you want to walk away.”

Your heart ached. “Dean, please don’t do this. I’m not enough for you.” Dean stepped in front of you, blocking your way. “No,” he said, voice low and dangerous. “You’re not going anywhere, (Y/N). Not if I have anything to say about it.”

You stood there, torn. The words were on the tip of your tongue, but the fight had drained out of you. “I can’t do this,” you whispered, eyes brimming with tears.

Dean looked at you, his hands running through his hair in frustration. “You really think I’m pretending? After everything we’ve been through? You think I don’t want this, want you?”

His hands gripped your arms gently, but it was enough to make you stop.

“Don’t walk away from me, (Y/N),” he whispered. “Don’t make me lose you.”

You met his gaze, taking in the desperation in his eyes. He wasn’t going to let you walk away again. He wanted this - wanted you.

“Dean, I didn’t leave,” you whispered, your voice cracking. “I just needed to get it out… but I didn’t want to lose you. Not like this.”

Dean sighed, relief washing over his face as he took a step toward you. He reached for your hand, pulling you close. “So what do we do now?”

You bit your lip, but the answer was clear.

You took his hand, trusting him completely. “Just us.”

Dean’s face softened as he held you close, his arms wrapping around you, and for the first time in what felt like forever, there were no more walls between you.

No more regrets.

Just you and him.

And whatever came next.