#main reason this request took me so much longer than I had hoped

[lemonflavoreddishsoap]

Hello there!! Idk if I have already sent something in, but if I haven’t, I would love to request! May I please have the LS members’ (separate) reactions to a new member with “soulless” or “dead” eyes (basically like the anime eyes that have no shine in them), who always seems rather closed off, but at some point the members do something nice to them, and the reader blushes and their eyes just light up like the brightest stars? Sorry if this request is a lot! If it is you can ignore! But thank you so much! (I loved the housewife s/o HCs you wrote btw, they were lovely!) ❤️❤️

Ghiaccio pfp twinsies...woag- also i like this idea a lot!! this reader sounds absolutely wonderful <33 fair warning I wrote most of these while incredibly sleepy so if they're ooc that's probably why im so sorry-

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La Squadra with a reader who has soulless eyes (that light up when they're happy/flustered)

Formaggio

When he first saw you, he wasn't sure exactly how alive you were.

I mean, those empty eyes and the way you barely talked to anyone definitely had him raising an eyebrow at first.

But he quickly got used to it. Nothing was wrong with responding to a joke with a tiny smile instead of a hearty laugh.

In fact, with enough time, he grows rather comfortable around that blank stare of yours. He gives you your space, but whenever you do talk to him, he's more than happy to get the chance to hear your voice and chat.

One day, before you went out for a mission, Formaggio noticed you nearly forgot to bring something vital. He managed to catch up to you and give you the item before you left, but before he could say anything, he noticed your expression.

The color spread across your cheeks, and your eyes -Oh god, your EYES. It was like someone finally flipped on a light switch in them. They were full of life for once, and the sight had him speechless.

But- shit, right, you had to leave. With an absent-minded nod and pat on the shoulder, he began to walk away.

"No need to thank me," he shouted to you before he was out of sight - and it was true. The look on your face had been thanks enough.

Illuso

Definitely made fun of your empty eyes often. Like Formaggio he probably compares you to a zombie, but he is willing to say it out loud.

He tries to guess what your thinking and feeling all the time if you tend to not show emotion. Like he'd say things like "I bet you're pissed about that too, you just don't wanna show it."

But like. In an annoying way if that makes sense.

I'll be honest I can't think of what kind of nice thing he would do for you. This dude's section has haunted me for days, y'all.

But in the event of him doing nice for you, he notices your expression right away. boy is he surprised by it. and boy is he LOUD about it.

"Holy SHIT! You're actually alive! I managed to break that moody façade of yours?"

You might wanna walk away or hide your face before he calls the rest of the gang over to look.

Afterwards he's weirdly a bit nicer to you? He obviously wants to see your adorable expression again, but his exact intentions are unknown...

Prosciutto

Doesn't care in much of a usual way. If anything I think he would comment on how your hard to read expressions and closed off nature makes you good for the job.

So he never really bothers to think you may be any other way.

The two of you were set to go on a mission together, and he insisted you work on a concrete plan beforehand. It turns out his idea for the plan relies VERY heavily on your abilities/stand.

When you ask about it, he begins to talk about how strong your abilities are, and how perfect you would be for the job, how he has faith that you can pull it all off.

Your heart flutters at his words and with every compliment you feel heat rush to your face.

When he stops talking and notices how your eyes lit up, he's....genuinely unsure what to think.

It was all true, you were strong and the right person for the job, but we all know how he gets when he's working with someone he feels is a bit too vulnerable cough cough pesci

He doesn't worry about it for the time being - it's a one time thing after all - but he keeps an eye out for if it happens again.

Pesci

I think he is used to people thinking he looks strange/creepy, so even it might creep him out a bit, he tries to be nice about your soulless face.

Gives you your space, but this boy is sweet, it won't take long for him to do something that makes the darkness in your eyes fade away.

idk why my first thought for the moment is him baking something new and asking you to try it. You have a taste and quickly nod in approval, it's delicious.

Relieved, Pesci proceeds to let you know he made it because he remembered you mentioning [insert flavor here] was your favorite flavor. Yep, that'll do it.

He's incredibly caught off guard, seeing your eyes twinkle with appreciation - for a second he thinks you're about to cry! He stands there, unsure what to do, until either the interaction ends or you say something to him.

Is so overwhelmed afterwards no matter what happens - was that really the real you? That sweet face was really yours?

Melone

It literally doesn't matter to him - he can see right through your dead look. It's uncanny.

You could be completely stone-faced and he would find some way to be able to tell exactly how you feel about something. He'll tell you his predictions too to see if their right.

I imagine it's one of these moments that actually leads to him seeing that cute expression of yours.

It started with "you found that hilarious, didn't you?"

He was playing his guessing game again, and like every time before, he was right. You didn't even have to answer.

"You know, you're so interesting to read. You have all these little tells for every small thought, and I think you subconsciously change them a bit every time I take notice of them!" He suddenly began explaining to you.

But it didn't stop there, he began to tell you all about how he picked apart your body language, how he noticed changes in your emotions over the entire time he's known you. "You're.... fascinating to watch."

It's not until he finishes talking that you both realize you've been staring at him with a completely uncharacteristically bright look of wonder. Then it's his turn for his face to light up, pointing at the blush on your cheeks.

"So you do like how I watch you! I knew it."

Ghiaccio

"The hell are you giving me that look for!?"

Of COURSE he takes it personally a lot - especially if you're supposed to be listening to his rambling. He isn't exactly thinking straight, so he just thinks your blank stare is some kind of insult.

But beyond that, it's rare he'll get on your ass about it.

Over time, I think he might even find you a reliable person to spew all his ranting at, if you don't complain at him or cause a fuss.

Maybe even at some point, perhaps if you've been getting picked on especially hard by Illuso, he'll ask if you have any ranting to do.

"What!? That prick has got to be getting on your nerves, doesn't that make you- WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU GIVING ME THAT FACE FOR!?"

You're gonna have to end up explaining yourself or else he won't stop asking you. When you do, he'll scoff, saying he barely did anything. At least you won't have him blabbing about it to the others, you both know it would get real annoying real quick.

If you specifically ask him to keep it secret, he'll nod, and you swear you see him smile at you.

Risotto

This man also looks pretty damn unapproachable (love him tho <3). He has the least amount of problems with how you are.

Like Prosciutto, he thinks your closed off nature is good for the job. But he never brings up that sometimes he wishes you were a little more open.

One day you return from a mission. It went smoothly. Enough. Okay, you had managed to get the deed done, but you had gotten injured in the process. In order to not endure lecturing from any of your teammates, you quickly dismissed everyone's questions about the mission and looked for things to treat your wound with, hiding it from everyone else.

In the middle of hastily wrapping up the bloody injury, you felt a hand on your shoulder, and soon after you head Risotto's voice. He warned you that you weren't treating the wound carefully enough.

He didn't scold you- a scolding wasn't going to help the sting and the crimson staining your skin. No, he asked if he could take care of the wound for you.

You felt your face heat up as he helped you, but although you were sure he noticed the look on your face, he made no mention of it. Just tended to your wound, and told you to tell him about any issues with a mission next time.

Afterwards you two agreed you would give him specifics later. You thanked him and that was that.

Walking away from you, Risotto replayed your expression in his mind....how cute.

[rea-grimm]

Hi, I hope you are well. Once again, one of your faithful followers (Luffy Dragon fan 💖) comes with a new request (if you can, obviously).

the last chapter of op made me realize that Sanji ignores and is less gentlemanly towards women who show signs of liking him. I wonder if we can get something where the reader is obviously in love with Sanji (corpse of the boyfriend) and he is completely indifferent or clueless about it, while following his behavior in love with other girls and being a great "dude, look what you have in front of you" "

xo ♥️ congratulations on the 2500 likes

Hi, I had quite tought week, but I’m better now. Hope you are well too. I’m happy to hear from you. You have really good request. ❤️

Hope you enjoy this.

Dude, look what you have in front of you- Corpse Sanji

You were head over heels in love with Sanji. Everyone on board knew it, but the only cook was completely blind to you. Yes, he treated you almost the same way he treated Nami or Robin. Although sometimes you had the impression that he took you more for granted. As a sidekick and nakama.

How you wished he felt for you the way you felt for him. To try to woo you like he tried to woo other girls who rejected him when they found out the truth.

You were sorry to see him melt over the other girls. How he got down on one knee and kept asking for their hand in marriage. You knew that was one of the main reasons he was among the living. His biggest regret.

When you saw him with other girls, it always made your heart skip a beat and you had to do everything you could to not let it show on yourself.

The new island was a new opportunity for the chef to find a new girl. You were out shopping and you passed a small square with a small group of beautiful girls among the people. 

As soon as Sanji saw the beauties, he dropped his shopping bags and headed towards them. He showered them with compliments before getting down on one knee and asking for their hand in marriage. The girls were just giggling.

You picked up your bags and walked to the side with them when the wind picked up out of nowhere. This wind was a bad omen for Sanji as it blew his bangs to the side, exposing his eye. Or rather an empty socket where the eye should have been.

The girls he had been focusing on until now ran away screaming and left him kneeling on the ground alone, with a completely broken expression.

The cook walked over to you brokenly, lit a cigarette and took your bags, saying he would take them on the ship. He hated these reactions. It reminded him so much that he was no longer alive. Just a corpse waiting for a miracle.

You wanted to somehow improve his mood, so you used this opportunity and went to the shop you passed on the way. To a shop that sold prosthetics. From limbs, dentures, and eyes. You knew what eye colour to choose for him. No one else you knew had eyes as blue as his.

On the boat you gave him your little gift, like a little thing, a souvenir you would call it. The others were there too and they all saw how happy Sanji was. Heart in his eyes, he hugged you on his knees.

You and everyone else had already started to think that this would make the cook notice you and see how you felt about him. Nothing could be further from the truth as nothing has changed at all. As soon as another girl flashed past him, or Nami and Robin, his head was in the clouds.

Despite all this, you had the impression that it would end like this and sighed in disappointment. You felt like you were chasing an even more impossible dream than your captain was chasing.

You saw that things with Sanji were difficult and apparently impossible and you slowly gave up. You didn't even know how, but you found your solace in the swordsman and the doctor. 

Both of them supported you and Zoro even offered to knock some sense into the cook. It sounded tempting, but you talked him out of it.

This small change didn't go unnoticed by Sanji and he got the impression that you had started something with the swordsman. He didn't understand at all what you saw in that mosshead. That's why he also went to see him, what was his problem, that you spent so much time with him.

Zoro didn't understand at all. It was the chef's bad luck, he had his chance with you. And even though you tried to act like you got over it, Zoro knew full well that you would do anything for a cook.

“Dude, look what you have in front of you,” he said instead, pointing over his shoulder at you. You stood with your back to them, playing the new board game he got in town with Chopper.

Sanji looked at you and he had no idea what mosshead was talking about. Robin, who heard everything, joined in. The two of them then explained it to him.

When Sanji finally saw through it, he made you a dinner with everything you liked as an apology and asked you out on a date. You could see in him that he was serious and so you decided to give him one more chance.

Sanji Masterlist

[pimosworld]

would you be able to write something about santi and frankie making a tree house for the reader's kids?

her kids have always wanted one and there's a perfect tree for it right in the center of the back yard, but she's never had the time to make it herself or get a professional to make it.

one day, at a neighborhood barbecue, pope is talking to reader's kids (trying desperately to be their favorite uncle) when they inform him of their plan of how to get their mom to make their tree house.

he tells them to draw him up a plan of their dream tree house and tells them he'll see what he can do. with the help of fish, they draw up a real plan of action from the drawing and set out finding materials. reclaimed wood, an old slide that really just needs a fresh paint job, a carpet to go inside, and some old moroccan style tiles for the roof.

they show up, truck bed full of supplies, unannounced and get to work unloading and constructing the thing. how can the reader be so mad when her kids look so happy helping them build it and playing in it once it's built?!

(new anon, sorry that this was so long.)

Pairing-Triple frontier boys x f!reader

Summary-Your kids find a way to get what they want both for you and for them.

CW-SFW, Fluff, angst, mentions of parent loss, mentions of spouse loss, tf boys being protective, tf boys being great uncles, mentions of insecurities, kids being menaces, dating, cursing, inaccurate descriptions of tree house build time because this is my world and we can build tree houses quickly, so much fluff. The boys being good with their hands.

WC-2.7k

A/N- I’m sorry this took me so long anon. Writers block sucks but it’s only fitting that the anniversary of my first ever fic COMPANY that came up a few weeks ago featuring the tf boys is kicked off with your request for some Frankie and Santi being amazing. I made some adjustments but I hope this is everything you wanted and more.

[Triple Frontier Masterlist][Main Masterlist]

If you build it

“I can tell they’re up to something.” Santi shoots you a look as he flips the burgers on the grill. 

  “They’re kids of course they’re up to something. The question is what.” Santi closes the grill as he looks across the wide expanse of yard at his niece and nephew playing in the sandbox. 

�� It looks like the childlike version of an ops mission happening. To someone else it may just look like a little girl playing with a stick in the sand but Santi knows better than that. 

  ****

  It’s such an odd feeling, you should still be grieving right? You most certainly shouldn’t be looking at Santi and his chiseled jaw as he watches your kids play. Or watching the way his muscles flex in his tight tee shirt as he crosses his arms. You’re so distracted you don’t even realize he’s speaking to you. 

  “Can you watch the grill for a second?” He raises an eyebrow at you and you feel flushed for all the wrong reasons. The sweltering heat does nothing to hide your embarrassment. 

  “Ya of course but don’t be gone too long. I’ve been known to burn anything on the grill.” 

  “I’ll make it quick then.” He winks at you as he walks across your lush green yard. Swiftly dodging a football that Benny throws deliberately at his head as he flips him off in return. 

  “You’re gonna burn a hole in his pants if you keep staring.” You jump at the sound of Frankie’s voice and he has the decency to look apologetic at your reaction. 

  You hadn’t really noticed how much they’ve all aged in the last few months. His hair is a little longer as it curls around his cap. His worry lines are just a bit deeper than you last remember them being. Yet he still smiles at you all the same as he pulls you into a deep hug, kissing the top of your head. 

  “I didn’t mean to scare you cariño, I was only joking.” 

  You shove him off playfully as you open the grill again. “I wasn’t staring.” 

  He bumps you out of the way as he grabs the spatula from your hand. “Sure…whatever you say. Your secrets are safe with me.” You watch him as he effortlessly dispatches all the burgers to a plate and sets them aside. 

  You bite your lip as you wait for him to say something but you know he’s giving you time to think. Something he’s always done for you, knowing that your mind is going a mile a minute and if anyone interrupts that train of thought it might be gone forever. 

  He’s just standing beside you like a steady weight as he glances around the yard at some people he barely knows and others he knows like the back of his hand. Now it’s mostly close friends and one or two neighbors, compared to several months ago when he couldn’t pick out a familiar face among the crowd. People tend to forget that your grieving continues even long after you’ve decided not to show up. 

  He shouldn’t feel bad for you because you’re a strong woman. More resilient than any of them could ever be. 

  “Frankie, can I ask you something?” You say with a nervous smile. 

  “You’re allowed to move on.” 

  You glance up at him and it’s intense the way he meets your eyes. “I didn’t ask the question.” 

  “You didn’t have to…my answer is still the same.” 

  ****

  As Santi approaches the sandbox he can see some kind of intricate drawing. Lexi is using a stick practically the size of her to draw it out while her brother Liam watches from the corner. She looks so much like you, especially with her focused face on as she draws another detailed set of lines that he still can’t quite make out. 

  Liam glances up at him and gestures with his fingers to stay quiet. Santi takes a seat at the corner of the box near him as they patiently wait for her to finish. He looks so much like him that Santi has a hard time not getting choked up, he’s grateful that they both have your personality. 

  “Okay.” Lexi throws the stick to the side and dusts her hands off on her white skirt. “I think it’s done.” She looks up and flashes a toothy smile at Santi and he can’t help the way his heart melts. 

  “Can I ask what exactly this is?” 

  The little girl lets out a deep sigh as she looks over at her twin brother and he just holds his hands out in silent communication that she needs to take the lead. 

  “Well…this is a tree house.” She pauses briefly and Santi thinks that’s cool that she can draw but then she starts. In great detail for several minutes animatedly explaining the process of her vision coming to life. 

  Santi has to get up and stand from her perspective to really get a grasp of what she’s talking about. He tries to follow along as she explains the duel ladder system, one on the trunk and another hanging down from the middle entrance of the house. Two doors, one for entry and the other for the slide,that lets out perfectly into the softest patch of grass in the yard. Her and her brother evidently couldn’t decide on carpet or tile so they opted to split it down the middle. Her half would be tile and his half would be carpet. They would obviously need enough room for arts and crafts, the kitchen and naps. 

  He’s never been so impressed with an eight year old in his entire life. 

  He’s so enthralled with the design that he doesn’t notice the little girl standing there staring up at him expectantly. 

  “So what do you think?” She’s wringing her little hands together as she glances over at her brother with an equally curious look on his face. As if a lightbulb goes off in his head Santi is suddenly aware of what exactly they were up to. 

  “Mija…are you asking if I can help?” 

  She nods her head as she rocks back and forth in the sand. 

  “We both have allowances if that helps.” Liam chimes in from the corner of the sandbox and Santi has to try to disguise his smile behind his hand. 

  “Foods ready!” You yell from across the yard and Santi meets your eyes. A look of what are you up to written all across your face. 

  He crouches down waving Liam over and the little boy carefully avoids the blueprints in the sand to join them. ��Okay…here is what I want you to do.” 

  ****

  Your kids are being uncharacteristically good. They finished all their food, they haven’t bothered you in over an hour and even offered to help clean up the table after everyone ate. 

  Most everyone has cleared out from the barbecue besides for the boys who seem to be enthralled with something over by the sandbox. Frankie keeps glancing over his shoulder at you and Will has shot you a thumbs up twice. If they thought subtlety was their strong suit they are sadly mistaken. You often wonder how they managed to be special ops and keep things a secret when it’s so obvious they’ve all got something up their sleeve. 

  ****

  The something they had planned despite your initial worry was in fact a much needed day for yourself. Benny was going to take the kids to the zoo and despite wanting all the credit Will assured you he would be accompanying them so that an adult would be present. 

  Over the last several months various repairs around the house had gone undone in the chaos of being a newly single mom. Frankie and Santi volunteered to spend the day getting your house in order while you had a full day planned with Will’s wife Jenna. Brunch, pedicures, shopping…you couldn’t remember the last time you treated yourself to a day that wasn’t centered around your kids. As much as you loved them you knew that at times it felt like the person you used to be was long buried underneath a world of stress and hurt. 

  Dating was completely off the table at the moment…especially since your current situation was all but off limits. Taking care of yourself for once could be a great start in the right direction. 

  ****

  “I told you to get half inch screws Pope.” 

  “Those are half inch!” Santi says as he hears Frankie grumbling under his breath. 

  “These are definitely a quarter inch and that explains another problem.” Frankie chides as Santi flips him off. 

  They’ve been at this for a few hours having completed the tasks in your house in a matter of no time. All this a ruse to get the tree house completed before you and the kids are back from your day out. 

  It’s been awhile since they’ve done something like this. Not just the physical labor but the reward at the end being something that they know is going to brighten a lot of days. They may bicker and fight like brothers but at the end of the day Santi knows how much they both needed this. To have their minds occupied with an intricate task. 

  Intricate doesn’t even begin to describe what’s unfolded before them. With their niece's original design in mind and a few additions when they got to the store this is turning out to be better than some places they’ve slept while in the service. 

  Frankie is putting the finishing touches on the bug screen that he decided would be a good addition to the entryway for the balmy summer nights. Santi’s never felt so large while he sits on the wooden bench that doubles as a reading nook. The wood matching the same structure that he knows could withstand any storm or hurricane. The sun is setting, casting a shadow along the bright yellow carpet they found on clearance at the back of the home decor store. 

  The leftover Talavera tiles Santi had from his home remodel fit perfectly on the half that would be the makeshift kitchen. 

  There are three exits and two entries. The trap door with a knotted rope, the wooden plank stair steps and the slide that leads to the softest patch of grass in the yard. 

  Santiago’s thoughts are interrupted by the sound of car doors slamming and children’s laughter. 

  “We should head down.” Frankie grunts as he shuffles over to the slide, reaching for his standard heating oil cap placed on the bench nook. 

  Santi raises his eyebrows at the man taking in the scene about to unfold. 

  “What? How else are we supposed to get down?” 

  “Oh I don’t know the stairs or the rope maybe?” He says sarcastically. “We don’t need you breaking the slide before they even get a chance.” 

  “Fuck you, this slide was built to withstand a hurricane.” 

  His nieces squeal from across the yard interrupts their fifth squabble of the day. 

  Frankie flashes him a wide grin. “Last man down has to ask their mom on a date.” 

  “What?!” 

  “Byeeee.” Frankie slides away, throwing him the middle finger on the way down. 

  Santi had already talked to him about this ad nauseam. It always felt like the wrong place at the wrong time. 

  He opened the latch to the trap door, opting to climb down to spare him the embarrassment of using a children’s slide in front of you. 

  ****

  You pulled up to the house at the exact same time as Will and Ben. You don’t remember the last time you’d felt this refreshed. Your hair and nails done, way too many bags piled in the backseat of Jenna’s car with a new wardrobe. It was exactly what you needed and a much needed conversation with another woman to reassure you that you were perfectly capable of making your own decisions about your love life. You shouldn’t feel guilty about moving on and doing what’s best for you and your children. 

  You half expected your kids to be happy to see you but they both gave you light hearted waves as they raced each other around the side of the house, leaving you in the driveway with Will and Ben with amused looks on their faces. 

  “What’s gotten into them?” You say as the boys shoot each other a look and Jenna takes your hand on hers to lead you around the house. 

  “It’s better to ask for forgiveness than for permission right?” Ben says from behind you and now you’re really starting to worry. Your daughter's screech has you pulling away as you run into the backyard. 

  The sight you’re met with is one that completely knocks you off your feet. Your children are jumping up and down in front of a beaming Frankie and the largest tree house structure you’ve ever seen. This is something out of an outdoor life magazine. 

  You don’t realize you're frozen in place as the rest of the gang join him on the lawn. Santiago perhaps on purpose opted to make your life that much harder by effortlessly climbing down the rope ladder. In all the years he’s been out of the service the man still has an impeccable physique. You will your feet to move as you take in the thing that your kids have been asking you for since they could talk. The thing your husband didn’t make time for and the daunting task seemed impossible for you on your own. Paying someone was out of the question and you were too prideful to ask the boys to help you out anymore than they already did. 

  You don’t even realize you’re crying until Santiago approaches with the most worried look you’ve ever seen on his face. 

  “Look, I’m really sorry if we overstepped. I know we should’ve asked and it wasn’t our place…but the kids-“ 

  His ramblings are cut short when you throw yourself into him. He instinctively hugs you tight as he feels the wetness from your eyes soak into his shirt. 

  It’s embarrassing to admit how long it’s been since a man has held you and right now you can feel your resolve breaking as he soothingly rubs his hands down your back to calm your tears. 

  “I don’t know how to thank you Santi.” You mumble into his chest as you try to calm your beating heart. 

  It’s a moment before you break apart and he really gets a good look at you. Even with fresh tears in your eyes you look stunning. The most relaxed he’s seen you look in ages and just as beautiful as the day Tom introduced you to the boys. 

  With the group and the kids thoroughly distracted he figures now is as good a time as any. He’s far enough away that if you reject him he can slink out of the backyard and disappear to another country for three to six months while the shame dies down. 

  “Listen, I have to say something before I lose the courage to say it.” He nervously rubs the back of his neck as he focuses on some inanimate object behind you. “I understand if you’re not ready or you think this is highly inappropriate and in that case I’ll pretend this never happened.” 

  You can feel the hairs stand up on your arms and you dig your nails into your palm to keep from passing out at this very moment.

  “I know it’s wrong to say but I’ve always thought you and the kids deserved better. You know I loved him but it killed me to see the way he treated you and in another life perhaps I met you first and things would look a little different. I just can’t help but think maybe this can be a second chance and if you’re willing, I’d like to take you out sometime.” 

  The silence is deafening as you try to form words and Santi looks as though he wants to spontaneously combust at your lack of response. In all honesty you were never really good at flirting and now you’re spiraling because what do you say besides. 

  “Yes.” 

  He lets out a huge sigh of relief as he looks up at the sky thanking whoever is watching that he didn’t just make a complete fool of himself. 

  You both turn around to see Benny helping your son climb the rope and Frankie sliding down with your daughter in his lap as she claps her hands. Will and his wife made it inside at some point and they wave to you both from the large open window. 

  “It looks like I may be able to take you up on that offer tonight.” 

[sunnysidewrites]

Demon prince!Seungcheol

Inspired by this prompt: “I’m a demon, not a hot water bottle. Stop cuddling me.” “But you’re so warm.” “Like hell. Fire, brimstone, eternal burning.” It had absolutely no effect whatsoever, and the demon sighed, wrapping one arm around the other. This is my re-debut (although not sure if this counts as a re-debut or if it's just a one-time thing) after nearly a 6-year hiatus and needless to say I am extremely nervous and excited!!! (talking in idol terms luv that) I am hoping that also means my writing quality has matured as well (I think??? or not but guess we will find out)! This is for everyone who knew me back then and is still around to see this play out! sorry if it's not the best i am EXTREMELY rusty but hope you enjoy lovelies <3333

wow omg it’s great to dive into writing after so long im getting emotional

you know the drill folks let’s get to it!!

Humans and demons have lived in co-existence for centuries and it’s more or less a chaotic neutral environment given the unique circumstances of these 2 different… races?

It can be difficult to distinguish the demons with the humans since they try to blend in seamlessly for their own sense of peace and security

Despite a big chunk of demons integrating with humans, there are still parts around the world, albeit small, where they have their own territory to control

They usually operate in more traditional political systems, such as still maintaining kings and queens

Humans can live there as well, but it is predominantly demons who are seen as the norm and the former as commoners/lower class

You happen to be one of the lowly commoners who have been working as a maid in the castle since you were young

you and Seungcheol, the Crown Prince, were actually kinda close as kids!!

you could tell all he wanted to do was let loose and have fun but was forced to follow the rules and take everything seriously 24/7

even as a 5 y/o you could see how much he yearned to be a regular kid but duty calls :”((

there were many times you hung out together in secrecy since you as a lowly maid could not be caught DEAD associating yourself with someone of such a high status

and add being human on top of that!! <3

But Seungcheol didn’t care you were literally his first and only friend at the time

Any time a guard looked for him, he and you would duck somewhere to hide together, stifling your smol little giggles im dead

As he grew up and more burdens were placed on his shoulders, you could no longer keep the same innocent, playful friendship between the two of you

Your interactions with him went from running around in the garden to stealing quick looks at each other when you passed by him in the hallways

He went from a happy lil child to a very assertive, stoic man who always picked his kingdom over anything

Despite his new persona, he would occasionally still show you very rare displays of fondness??

You would sometimes randomly find gifts on your bed with a note and well it doesn’t take a genius to know who it’s from

“I swiped the last cookie for you before Penny stole it and I know you would become a demon yourself if someone took your sweets”

“I noticed your uniform was ragged and a little ripped so here’s a new set. be more careful or our next encounter won’t be as pleasant”

“Here’s an extra blanket loser don’t freeze to death on me”

Your heart feels warm knowing that he still shows you his softer side to you while he’s practically a statue to everyone else

Now you were both in your mid-twenties and he’s been busier than ever with political meetings and social gatherings

You were his main maid since out of all of the staff, you were the only one who could really put up with his absurd requests and got along with him in a manner no other maid could, even the older ladies

There were times he summoned you to his headquarters for the sole reason of wanting some company

He would bring up some dumb question and you would be like no offense but this is kinda useless

But little did you know he would do that intentionally to see you crack a little smile, maybe even a laugh in there since he’s been seeing you look more despondent lately

“Even though we can’t run around the palace like how we did as kids, I’m still here. I’m the same Seungcheol – well, actually not really but I still look out for your wellbeing”

“Thanks, not-the-same-Seungcheol”

It’s rumored that the Crown Prince is coming of age to take over the throne soon, but before doing so he needs to find a bride yes it’s one of those tropes ok deal with it

You’re cleaning the hallways one day with some other maids and you can’t help but overhear their gossip

“Did you hear Prince Seungcheol is now engaged??? I think it was just last week”

Your ears perk up and your scrubbing slows down slightly so you can focus on their conversation

“Yeah, I heard the woman is a princess from some neighboring kingdom… It’s really hitting soon that he’ll be the new king”

“I don’t know how long she is going to last… he’s so cold and doesn’t seem to care about anyone. but what can you expect from a demon?” 

They both giggle and move to another room to continue cleaning and you can’t help but feel fired up from the way they were talking about him as if they knew anything about him

Sure, he was not really the friendliest and was very brutally honest with his curt words but it didn’t make him a bad person

Your heart aches after hearing the news and you recall a past talk you had with Seungcheol when you were younger

“Do you believe in love?” you asked him, the both of you lying down on the grass while looking up at the vibrantly blue sky

“Pshh, not really. Father always said marriage is for the people, not for love”

“But shouldn’t you love someone in order to marry them? you will be spending the rest of your life with them”

“I don’t think that is what he wants from me. I would be letting him down”

“Is that what you really want, though? to be stuck with someone you have no feelings for?”

he sighs deeply and looks down. “Well, I guess not… I do care a lot for someone”

your heart dropped. guess he already has his eyes set on someone else. “o-oh, well that wouldn’t be fair to you or to them right?”

he shakes his head, quickly glancing at you before looking away. “but it wouldn’t work out anyway. I wouldn’t want to drag them into the mess of my world. I want them to be free of what I go through. I just hope they know I’ll always care for them from afar.”

You shake your head out of a daze, painfully reminded of how raw that moment still feels

I wonder if he still cares for that person he mentioned, you think to yourself as you continue scrubbing the tiles. But what does it matter now that his future is sealed with someone else?

Shortly after that day, it was formally announced to the kingdom that the Crown Prince and the soon-to-be Crown Princess will be holding a wedding ceremony in just a short few weeks

On the outside, you smile politely and clap your hands but it takes every fiber of your being to not want to fling the door to your cramped bedroom and collapse on your bed and spill the tears you were desperately attempting to hold in 

As you stared at him and his fiancee out the balcony waving to everyone, you swear you thought you saw him give you a forlorn look that lasted for a millisecond before he returned to his usual expressionless state

From that moment on, you barely saw Seungcheol at all

This man was constantly getting pulled in all different directions, especially with the royal wedding around the corner

The night before his big day, he summons you to his room again and your mind is buzzing with loads of thoughts of what he could possibly want to talk to you about

You cautiously enter and close the door slowly before turning back towards him

He looks more disheveled than usual, his hair tousled, his usual prince attire crinkled and slightly unbuttoned

“You look stressed, what's wrong??”

He closes his eyes and sighs for a moment before slowly opening them again and says while still not making eye contact with you, “I… I feel like I’ll have so many regrets once tomorrow comes”

You’re like why is that??

“Do you remember me mentioning I cared a lot about someone back then?”

Your heart drops to your stomach. “Yes… why?” thanks for the reminder

“I keep thinking about them… and all of these what-ifs. I know I can’t do anything about it, but–”

“Of course you can do something about it! I know you’re a stickler for the rules, but if the cost is your happiness, is it really well worth it?”

He shakes his head, looking even more troubled than before. “I can’t risk putting them in that position. Yet I… I want to,” he articulates slowly, as if it’s only dawning on him now that he’s finally learned what he truly feels

You feel as if the waves of heartache and anguish are drowning you but you try to be strong for him and present a smile if not for him, then for yourself

“I think you know what you need to do, Seungcheol”

And with those words, you quietly bow out and make your way to your room

The next morning, you wake up with puffy eyes from crying all night and begrudgingly get out of bed to get ready for the busy day ahead

After a hectic morning and afternoon, the ceremony finally begins

The moment we’re all waiting for is “Speak now or forever hold your peace”

And the most baffling thing happens because it’s not you who speaks up, not some secret lover, not some random citizen in the audience

but it’s Seungcheol himself

“Wait – I don’t think I can go through with this”

SCANDALOUSSSS

That’s right, he causes a whole uproar and everyone is like what tf is he talking about?!?!?

You are unfazed to a certain degree due to the conversation you had with him last night but you’re still confused on where this is going to go

Never in a million years would you have imagined for him to say his next words

“I’m in love with someone else: Y/N”

And all the maids around you gasp like WHAT. IS. HE. TALKING. ABOUT.

You aren’t sure whether to feel mortified or happy but whatever it is, all eyes are now on you

The current King is like MISTER?? WITH A H U M A N????

“I know it’s never been done before, having a demon and a human marry each other. but I’m tired of always having to do the right thing and for once, I want to do something that is right but for myself”

You’re looking at him in complete bewilderment and disbelief like you were talking about me this whole time??!!

“If we can prove that humans and demons can come together, it’ll be a huge stepping stone politically for everyone involved. I can’t change how I feel about her but I can change our worlds with her by my side”

He makes his way towards you and grabs your hand and this time he does not break eye contact even once

“I want to be with y/n, and no one else”

You’re melting like putty in his arms it’s honestly really sweet!!!

The King eventually caves in although he’s obviously not happy with all of their efforts wasted but he’s cool enough to welcome in this new change

Everyone’s reactions are pretty mixed understandably but they don’t seem like they hate it which is probably the best reaction you’re gonna get

“You’re not asking for my hand in marriage are you?? bc that’s a little too quick on a first date”

He shrugs and nonchalantly says, “Not until you’re ready” JESUSLFSJDS

The rest of the day is a whirlwind of crazy events that you get caught up in as the Crown Prince’s new lover now 

By the time it’s time for bed, he summons you for the last time as you being a maid and not as a Girlfriend

Well turns out he’s actually a big baby and the whole time he tried to conceal his feelings for you all he wanted was for you to be by his side pshh lame amiright

“You sure move fast with wanting me to be in your bed already and we haven’t even gone on an actual date yet”

“Shut up and just lay beside me”

After you turn off the lights and get under the covers, you can’t help but notice he’s extremely hot (literally and physically) and considering it’s 20 degrees you’re taking all of that warmth

Of course, Seungcheol tries to make it a big deal and get you off of him even tho he secretly enjoys it

“I’m a demon, not a hot water bottle. Stop cuddling me.”

“But you’re so warm.”

“Like hell. Fire, brimstone, eternal burning” 

Like that was gonna stop you who does he think he is for putting you through all of this and at the very least not giving you some cuddles???

He sighs and wraps one arm around the other after he notices your breathing slowing down

“I don’t have to care about you from afar anymore,” he murmurs, brushing your hair out of your face before also slowly losing consciousness

[ithinkabouttzu]

If you feel like it, could you write this: Joe Toye x reader with glasses. Imagine meeting Joe Toye for the first time at a park. You've lost your glasses, and he helps you find them. After you get them back, he asks you out.

A Walk in the park || Joe Toye

a/n: thank you so much for this cute request! I’m sorry it took so long to put together but I hope you enjoy! 🤍

Word count: 1k

genre: romance

Description: When you lose your glasses while reading your book, a nice stranger helps you find them.. in exchange for a date.

taglist: @executethyself35 @linhkhanhcps @1waveshortofashipwreck @grumpy-liebgott @barbeygirl @samwinchesterslostshoe @ronsenthal @sweetxvanixlla @mstiemountainhop @imaginethatneathuh @goodluckbabeheffron @resting-distressed-face @bossboudicca (If you want to be on this list, let me know!! :))

BoB masterlist

You could feel the sun hitting your back as the light afternoon quickly went by. The leaves in town had started to turn various shades of red, yellow, and brown due to the drop and temperature and sunlight. You could smell a variety of coffee drinks that most likely were flavored with Pumpkin, Apple, or Caramel as certain groups walked past you, cup in hand.

It was finally Autumn. The weather felt perfect, nothing felt better than reading one of your favorite books outside at the park to enjoy the nice change of climate. It seemed a lot of others also enjoyed the change. Friends walked along the walking trail, talking about whatever new gossip had arisen within their group, couples had cute picnics in the grass, enjoying each other, and families played games with their loved ones with the occasional addition of a family dog.

It all seemed to work so in-sync. Then there was you, reading your book, and glancing at the other people enjoying their time every so often. The book of yours had just gotten good, the main character had just revealed their big secret to the other supporting characters. The more you read, you could feel your eyes start to blur the small words all together. No matter how hard you squeezed your eyes together, you couldn’t see a thing. You figured you had finally needed your glasses.

It was a bad habit of yours, forgetting to wear them while you read. Only remembering once your eyes started to give out. You checked in your purse first. It wasn't there, so you looked around the bench you were sitting on. Not there either. Searching high and low, they were nowhere to be found, it was as if they ran off somewhere without you knowing.

“Lookin’ for something?” You heard a male voice in front of you. You didn’t think he was talking to you until he repeated the question.

“Oh sorry, I just lost my glasses.” You explained to the man. As you told him what happened, you took a second to take a look at him. His features were dark and masculine. He looked tough, physically and mentally. His eyes were dark and cold at first and warmed up once you answered him.

“What’d they look like? I can help you if ya want.” He gave you a sheepish smile while he asked. “Please” you replied back almost immediately, needing the help. “You from here?” “Sure thing, born and raised.” You replied back while standing up to look for your glasses, seeing if maybe they were under you.

“No kiddin’. I just moved here for work. Originally from Pennsylvania.” He replied back to you quickly. Both of you sat down. Your glasses weren’t here. No reason in continuing to look for something that practically disappeared.

“Pennsylvania huh? I bet it’s pretty there this time of year.” You could only imagine the bright arrangement of leaves that surrounded the state. “Yeah, it's nice, but it sure is pretty here too.” he shrugged his shoulders slightly while making himself comfortable beside you. “I’ll have to go up and visit in the future, see the leaves for myself.” He chuckled at your response, his gaze lingered a little longer than usual. You felt your heart beat faster at his glance.

“So what kinda work brought you here?” You asked, curious to know more about this mysterious man. “I heard the construction business was good over here, decided i’d give it a try. Names Joe by the way.” He finished off his sentence with an introduction that was long overdue. You laughed at the randomness of it. You exchanged your name with him before he spoke up.

“ So born and raised here?” I take it you've got some favorite spots around town then?” Joe gave you a friendly smile while he asked his question. “Definitely. There's this one cafe down the block from here that has hands down the best pastries and coffee. It's like a little corner of heaven.” You laughed at yourself, realizing how silly that came out, but your love of the special coffee couldn’t go unnoticed. “Really? I’ve really been looking for somewhere to get my caffeine fix. When I make my own, it just doesn’t taste the same.” You smiled at his response.

It felt good to make friends with another coffee lover like yourself. “What's the name of this special cafe?” He gave you a look as if he wanted to know more. “Moody Brews, it's one of the best.” You answered his question with full seriousness. “Mood Brews? Sounds fancy, I think I'll have to try out this place sometime.” As he said that, a strong breeze passed through the park, giving you a chill.

In reaction to the cold wind, you put your hands in the pocket of your jacket. “No way.” you heard his voice chime in disbelief. “What?” you replied, thinking something bad had happened. After asking the question, his hand bent down to pick up your glasses from an arrangement of leaves that had been by your foot. The glasses must have blended in with the leaves. You put your hand to your face in shock. He laughed when he saw your reaction. “They were there the whole time?” You asked him before joining his laugh. He palmed his face jokingly before sitting up. l”Here ya go glasses, try to keep them closer to ya next time, will you?” He said jokingly, handing the glasses to you. You assumed it was the beginning of his departure. “Thank you for helping me look for these.” You said to Joe, raising up your glasses to him. “No problem. And about that cafe, would you wanna go sometime together? We can see which flavor is really the best.” He said in a laugh but you could hear the nervousness in his voice. You felt your heart rush again with excitement. “Sure, Saturday morning sound good?” “Sounds good to me. See you then, Glasses. Saturday morning.” He reminded you before continuing his departure. Maybe finding a relationship could be a walk in the park.

[risingoftime]

𝖈𝖔𝖒𝖊 𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝖘𝖊𝖊 𝖒𝖊 | 𝖘𝖍𝖚𝖗𝖎 𝖔 𝖋𝖊𝖒!𝖗𝖊𝖆𝖉𝖊𝖗

a/n: thank you anon for the request! I appreciate ya'll for being patient with me cause I am inconsistent with this shit. I hope I made it worth your while babes xo! Click the title for a song rec.

synopsis: Shuri is frustrated from being unable to keep her mind off of you, and you don't make it any easier. Amidst being long-distance and the bickering, you're unsure how to fix things between you. Then, a surprise visit forces Shuri to choose between the lab and love.

word count: 2.6k

warnings: alternate universe, university student!shuri, model!reader, SMUT, smut with no plot, oral, finger sucking, tribbing/scissoring, masturbation, fingering, light dom!shuri, edging, sex toy (vibrator), overstimulation, makeup sex.

18+ | minors do not interact

➴ feel free to send me more thots

I adjusted my camera tripod so that it faced me. The natural sunlight lit up my hotel room as I fumbled with the toy vibrating in my hand. Laying back on the freshly cleaned white sheets, I placed them between my legs, already slick from my arousal. I couldn’t stop my wandering mind from imagining it was Shuri’s fingers stroking me instead. Foreheads pressed against each other, watching her move her hand to push two fingers in and out of my pussy. I let out a breathy moan as I felt my walls tighten around her. I didn’t want to let her go. I could practically feel her presence against me. The vibrator increased its speed, circling my clit. I envisioned Shuri watching me as I got close to cumming. Observing how my back arches, I angle my body to get better access to the pulsating device. I deeply yearned for her touch, feeling sensitive and in need. I’ve never been this wet before, and It’s been so long since Shuri and I were able to be intimate.

“Shuri,” I moaned. 

It became more difficult to hold back. Finally, I gave myself over to the overwhelming pleasure that had grown inside my abdomen and no longer silenced the sounds that escaped my mouth. I threw my head back and rolled my hips forward, urging and pleading for Shuri to touch me instead. A heavy wave of lust passed through me as I rode to orgasm. My limbs began to relax, and I felt like I could melt into the hotel bed. Except she wasn’t there with me, and I was alone. Unhinging the iPhone from the tripod, I scrolled through our messages and hit send. 

Come and see me. @ Sonder 907 Main room 303.

As soon as I saw the video delivered, I felt my anxiety rise, waiting for her response. Shuri would spend hours and hours away from her phone when she was in the lab. It’s one of the main reasons why we’ve been fighting. At times I felt like my attention wasn’t enough for her. Something was constantly popping up at her internship, and I’ve tried to be understanding, but I’m rarely a priority. Shuri has always been a big dreamer, convinced she would cure cancer and otherworldly diseases, and I believe her. She’s almost completed her joint major in computer science and molecular biology, but I don't know if we’d last to see her cross the stage with her degree.

I can't resist the desire during the hours I’m alone without her. Booking a hotel near Shuri's campus may have been impulsive, but long-distance has never done me well. Especially with the break between modelling jobs after New York fashion week, this is the only time I’d have to spend with Shuri. I set down my phone and cleaned myself up in the shower. Once I finished, I wasn’t sure how much time had passed as I got ready for her arrival, whenever that would be. Slipping on my black robe, I checked my phone to see numerous missed calls from Shuri. It had only been less than an hour, and she should’ve been in the laboratory now. I would've sent a video sooner if I knew it was this easy to get her attention. I jumped from the knock on my door and peeked through the peephole to see Shuri. I took a deep breath and opened the door. 

“What are you doing here? I told you that I needed space.” Shuri’s face was set in stone and unmoving, not giving away the dormant emotions. A coping mechanism. But her eyes softened when she saw the short silk robe that barely hid the lacy lingerie underneath. 

“And I came so we could work it out like we always do.” Her straight facial expression slipped away, and she laughed at my double innuendo before stepping closer in my direction and closed the hotel door behind her. “No, you came to frustrate and finish me off.”

“Hi to you too, by the way. It looks like the video did its job; I finally got you out of the lab.” I rolled my eyes and moved away from Shuri. Her footsteps followed me to the main bedroom until her chest was against my back. I could feel her heavy breathing as if she was trying to calm herself. “Be honest. You’re not mad at me for dropping out of MIT. You’re upset I left. But I saw an opportunity and took it! Just like you did with your internship. The difference is that I make time for you,” I struggled to get the words out without raising my voice. I tried not to sound accusatory, but each sentence had more conviction than the last. I was wrong if I thought that Shuri would react to my anger. Instead, she wrapped her arms around my waist, pulling me closer until nothing else mattered. 

“I never left, baby. You are the first and last person I speak to every day, I may not respond right away, and I’m sorry okay? I’m sorry.” Shuri’s lips hovered over my ear as her hands slowly unravelled the tie around my robe. I felt her long fingers trace over the hem of my lace panties, and my breath hitched at the possibility of her dipping further. 

“You think it’s just that easy? So that’ll forgive you just like that?” I sighed. She always left me in a trance just by her touch, and now, with her sucking on my neck, I felt my knees begin to give out. I’ve been craving this for so long, longing for us. But I wasn’t going to give in. My hand hovered over Shuri’s before I removed it and turned to face her. I had to go on my tippy toes to be face to face. It took all of my self-restraint not to act upon my lust. 

“What can I do to make it right? I’ll get on my knees for you. When you moaned my name on that tape, I practically fell to the ground.” Shuri’s voice had a certain raspiness when she got turned on. The way she looked at me, it was clear that her control was slowly slipping. 

“Tell me how bad you need me.”

“I need you like the air I breathe.”

Shuri responded without missing a beat, and the silence between us afterwards stretched out as we stood still, staring into each other's eyes and anticipating the other’s next act. It only took one move, and it was Shuri that took action. Her hands caressed and groped my ass before lowering her head to bring her lips to mine. The kiss was feverish and all-consuming. I hadn’t noticed that we reached the bed until the back of my legs hit the edge of the mattress, causing me to fall on top of the duvet. 

“I’m going to fuck you until you can’t walk properly,” Shuri purrs. Her hands rubbed down along my waist, unabashedly greedy, until she reached the delicate fabric that hardly covered my pussy. Wasting no time, she practically ripped the lace discarding it to the side of the room. This is a side of her that I had not experienced. There was something feral about how she looked at me, like I was her prey for the taking. Shuri’s fingers stroked me, teasing my entrance without entering further. Simultaneously leaving love marks across my neck and breasts, without care about who might see them the next day. 

“Stop playing with me,” I begged. 

“Always so needy. You interrupted my work, and now I’m taking my time with you.” 

I let out a shallow whimper while pushing myself desperately against Shuri’s hands, searching for an inch she hadn’t put inside me. Instead, she spent another few minutes slowly worshipping my body, making my bare skin undeniably hot and sensitive. 

“Fuck Shuri”  I already felt pent-up from how long it’s been since we’ve had sex. I couldn’t stop thinking how much I wanted Shuri. 

“Shut up” Not an ounce of patience in her voice. She swore under her breath as she inserted her two fingers inside of me harder than anticipated. “Shit, you’re so tight,” she sighed into the crook of my neck. Shuri moved in a steady, punishing rhythm. I gasped and trembled against her body. My nails dug into her skin underneath her t-shirt, clinging to her as she mercilessly drilled inside me. With each thrust, she got deeper and deeper until the pads of her fingers brushed against my G-spot. 

"Oh, God, yes, I’m gonna cum” I cried. 

“Shh… just a little more.” 

I was unsure how much further I could hold back the bliss threatening to spill onto the sheets. Shuri was now acutely aware of my throbbing center and quivering thighs, my skin on display below, consumed by pulsating pleasure. Her mouth was slightly agape between sloppy kisses, pausing when our lips barely touched and breathing each other's air. Her eyes shut as her eyebrow furrowed in concentration as if trying to envision what she felt, the sensations she caused to run through my body. All that could be heard in the room was our deep breathing and the bed rocking. 

“Shuri, please, don’t stop. I’m so close.” 

Suddenly, Shuri forcefully pinned my wrists above my head with one hand and watched as I struggled to keep my composure while her thumb massaged my slit. “You sound so good, begging for it.” I don’t know if I was easy to decipher or if Shuri knew my body well. Yet, as my begging got louder and staggered, her pace became faster and harder until my climax came over me with a rush that caused my eyes to roll back. “Shit, you have such a tight hold on me,” Shuri whispered. I felt the wet spot beneath form in response. The tension that had a hold on my muscles relaxed against her. Finally, she removed herself from inside of me agonizingly slow to suck on her fingers before putting her mouth over mine. I could taste myself on her while she swirled her tongue around mine. It was all-consuming and hard to decipher what was to come next. Shuri was everywhere. 

Shuri parted from me to remove her shirt and reveal her toned dark skin, alluding to the late-night gym sessions she snuck in when she had time away from work and school. Her arms flexed when she groped my thighs to slide my body down to get closer to her. She left wet kisses on my chest, licking my sternum to my abdomen. Shuri paused there momentarily, leaving me in anticipation for her to move lower. Instead, she made eye contact with me while her tongue parted my folds, gliding up the wetness dripping. My hands played with the tips of her curls, tugging slightly when the tip got close to my overly sensitive clit. I couldn’t resist pushing my waist upwards, urging her to lick harder and take all of me in her mouth. Her eyes never left mine, not for a second. The noise I let out would’ve made me ashamed if I had heard it back, but Shuri encapsulated me.

“You like messing with my head, don’t you?” I asked. She’s been edging me with each lick and stroke, and- “fuck I’m all yours.” I would be hers, Shuri’s one and only. All my brain could think about was inching myself near. My hands were tangled in her hair, keeping her head still while I rubbed my pussy against Shuri’s face. Her nose bumped against my clit as her tongue delved deeper inside. “you drive me insane, and you don’t even know.” She mumbled against my clit in between licks. With each second, the waves of sensation became impossible to stay in one place. Just when I thought it could get any worse, Shuri began sucking on my clit with sensuous desperation. I could hear myself panting, my pussy throbbing as she began ramping up the intensity. “Yes, give it to me, all of it.” As if on her command, my muscles began spasming and just when I had felt like I was on the verge of exploding, I had let it all out, soaking Shuri’s lips and chin. 

“I- I never knew I could do that,” I whispered. I never knew that my body could release that much all at once. 

“Shit, I didn’t either.” Shuri laughed to herself as she wiped her chin and bottom lip with the palm of her hand. She pushed herself off the bed to unzip her pants and discard the rest of her clothes. I analyzed her body as she stripped before pulling herself over me, aligning her core with mine until she settled on me. The feeling of her warm wetness gliding against mine made me moan. 

“Tell me how I feel.” 

“Feels so good.” Shuri mumbled, looking blissed-out and high as fuck, with her eyes barely open. 

I couldn’t get enough of the way Shuri rocked back down against me, making hot, needy noises as she felt her body’s movement sync with mine. She tried to take her time and move slowly, but she ran out of patience. Shuri groaned, “Don’t stop,” a raspy noise compared to mine. I lifted my hips slightly as Shuri thrust, making the bed creak and hit the wall. Our cries got louder and louder.

“Tell me you want more.” 

“Baby, you got me addicted- I don’t want to stop.” Her breasts bounced while she moaned and cursed under her breath. She held my thigh to get the right angle to increase the hot friction between our legs. Another hand slightly pressed down on my abdomen as she chanted “yes” repeatedly like a prayer. Shuri’s breath hitched, needy and fragile, but still ready for more. “Yeah,” she says, her voice hoarse. “I want to see you cum for me. Cum in me.” 

“Oh God, Shuri”

“Ride it,” Shuri demanded. It was all the consent needed to grip Shuri’s hips as she heavily descended on me. It felt like I’d been split open and filled full of her, and Shuri didn’t stop until she was fully seated on me without an escape option. “You look so beautiful underneath me like this.” I knew that my hair which was perfectly pressed was now dishevelled against the sheets. Yet, she didn’t stop. Her hands kept roaming my breast and torso. Shuri wanted to feel me lose it and come apart under her command while I rolled my hips roughly into her. “A-aah, I’m coming,” Shuri gasped when she felt the warm spill of her orgasm drip on my skin. I trembled in euphoric pleasure till I lost all rhythm and felt Shuri collapse onto me in exhaustion. Our chests heaved up and down while we tried to catch our breath. I felt slightly lightheaded as I searched for the words to speak after it all.

“I think the only way to get you out of my head is to have you like this instead.” The way that Shuri muttered the words seemed as if she was saying it more to herself than to me. 

“Then why don’t you do it more often?” I smiled when she brushed my hair to the side with her hands to get a better view of my face. Her gaze was trained on me with a look in her eye that I couldn’t quite decipher. 

“Because if I do, I’ll never want to leave.”

[wayward-dreamer]

*taps mic* *clears throat* Is this thing on?

Hey tumblr fam!! It’s been a while, huh?

I really am sorry it’s taken me so long to give an any kind of update, and I know some people will say that I don’t need to apologize, but that’s just in my nature lol. So I’m going to tell you what’s been going on and hopefully what’s coming soon enough to the blog.

The main reason for the delay in posting has been that I was away on holiday for pretty much all of March and first week of April. My family (my parents and sister) and I took a trip to UK/Europe for 4 weeks, and while we had an amazing time it was certainly very tiring as well haha. I feel like we need a holiday from the holiday, but that said a lot of lifelong, incredible memories were made and I’m forever grateful for this opportunity we got that we’ve never really gotten before.

So because of the constant moving around from city to city, I really didn’t have time to write much. Even on planes and trains, I was pretty much always sitting next to my sister or one of my parents so that’s not exactly the right time to be writing smut, you know? Lol

That said, I did get a couple of non-smut sections of one shots or series chapters done, so I guess that’s something.

Another reason for my lack of posting is that I’ve really been concentrating on my other forms of writing. I’ve been trying to edit a fanfic series into a book for self-publishing (all will be revealed soon as to which one!!) and that’s been taking a lot longer than I thought, but hopefully it should be done in time for a summer release. I’ve also been working on scripts to send out to different development programs and even a contest or two, which I wasn’t planning on but a friend convinced me to do it. I really don’t know what’s going to happen, but I’ve left it up to the universe to decide and just hope for the best!

So let’s move onto what’s coming to the blog soon (hopefully!!):

- I’ve been writing another Soldier Boy x F!Reader one shot since before we left for the holiday, and it’s not even close to being finished yet, so I’m hoping to work on it this week and let’s see if I can finish it!

- I’ve been working on The Hardest Lessons slowly but surely, and I think within a month or two, it should start posting again. Again, hopefully!

- I’ve also been trying to outline a new series which I’m so fucking excited about. It’s been in my WIPs for I don’t even know how long as just small sentences/paragraphs and ideas, so I really hope I can start writing it soon.

- Other than that, I have plenty of bingo squares to turn into fics, so let’s see what happens. Also, if anyone has any requests, have a read of what I write for and let me know what you’d like, because I’d love to hear from you!

- I also just want to mention that for the time being, I’ve deactivated my Patreon. If I get back into the regular routine I was in, then I might start it again, so watch this space if anything changes.

I’m actually so excited to get back to working on all these things, and I really hope that you guys will be excited for what’s coming. Again, I’m sorry for the unplanned hiatus, but hopefully that won’t be the case again. Thanks for all the support and love, I really do appreciate it so much.

Much love,

Rosh <3

[snekdood]

ok, well, i've given everyone on here with any issues with me a chance to share their issues for years now at this point, and so far i've seen maybe 2 or 3 people and they usually block me before i can even send a response bc they're utter cowards. i am often left like this

waiting for the "Valid Criticisms" to pour in, and theres never any, ever. they hide and cower and talk shit behind my back bc they know if they ever said any of their Very Real Concerns to my face that i'd actually counter them with the reality of my thoughts/feelings/actions/etc. and they dont want that. better to spread rumors than to confront the person you're spreading rumors about and get embarrassed bc you were wrong and built up all this energy around hating me for literally no fucking reason.

so now, the time is up, i've given you your chance. ive given you the chance to tell me why i need to change and how i need to change etc. but none of you actually like coming up with solutions to problems, you just like labeling things bad or good and then call it a day at the factory. as if thats your only obligation to humanity. lmao.

so im no longer taking requests, im no longer taking criticisms from random people on here seriously, because its all just highschool bullshit of spreading rumors for shits and giggles and not actually bc any of you have any real convictions nor do any of you actually give a deep fuck about any of "your" politics at all.

so if after this point, you try and say some shit to me? i'm going to ignore you. you had your chance. you never took advantage of it. not even to tell me how lame i am or whatever either- thats how much of cowardly ass bitches all of you are. i hope you take your political purism and shove it up your ass.

im no longer playing this game where i pretend i dont know anything and need to be taught by yall bc thats the role you want to fulfill so so badly in spite of being shit-horrible at it. im no longer letting other people tell me im this or that when i know who tf i am and wtf im about. im no longer humoring you and letting you think you're the smartest person in the room bc i feign being a dumbass to test if you can even actually teach anyone or not, and clearly as we've learned, you can't. you just guilt trip people to believing what you do and threaten them when they dont- yeah i dont think you'd be a teacher that sticks around very long if this were a school. you dont know shit, all of your politics are based on what you think is intuitively correct and not based on fact, its all based on vibes, and im tired of humoring larping-ass, wannabe, shut in, leftists. i dont need you to teach me anything, i've been knew for a long as time and istg every time someone thinks they're actually teaching me some shit its shit i've learned years ago and understand better than them anyways.

so with all that said, go fuck yourselves, grow a pair, and stop being a blood thirsty tankie larping pos, for humanities sake. you're not the main character, you're not the superhero of reality. otherwise you woulda said something to me if you actually had an issue. hope you get well soon bitches xoxoxo <3

[katsu28]

can you please write a drunk love confession (kinda like the Rachel/ross one from friends?) but super angsty (with a happy ending ofc) thank ya!! xx

i just reread your request after writing this and i think this was kinda what you were asking for, but i haven’t seen Friends in years so…i could be wrong. i hope you enjoy this even if i got it completely wrong <3 thank you for requesting, i had too much fun writing this!!

the one with the drunk love confession

pairing: JJ Maybank x reader 

summary: see request! 

warnings: swearing, kinda angsty, also way longer than i originally planned but oh well 

a/n: there wasn't a character specified for this, so i just picked my boy jj bc i missed writing for him! hope that's okay :)

masterlist + taglist

(gif from @jensensfanfic!)

You knew that calling JJ wasn’t the best idea. But you were slightly past tipsy (okay maybe a bit more than just slightly) and higher than a fucking kite, so that little voice in the back of your head telling you to put down your goddamn phone wasn’t a main priority at the moment. 

As the dial tone rang, you took another swig of beer, sighing in satisfaction at the cool bitterness of it sliding down your throat. Beer wasn’t usually your drink of choice, but it was all you had in the fridge right now—courtesy of the blond boy you were currently calling. 

“Yo, it’s JJ! I’m probably out doing some shit I’m not supposed to, but leave a message and maybe I’ll hit you back. Or maybe I won’t, I dunno. Peace!” God, that stupid voicemail always used to annoy the shit out of you, but right now, in your drunken haze, it kinda made your heart ache a little bit more. 

“Pick up your damn phone, J, I need to tell you something.” You mumbled, words slurred by one too many cans of beer. After a few seconds of waiting for him to answer before you remembered this was his voicemail, you chuckled drunkenly to yourself. “Hey. It’s me, your best friend. I just wanted to tell you that everything—everything is fine. Everything is totally fine. I’m happy for you. Happy that you—you found someone who makes you happy.” 

You hiccuped, letting out another airy laugh. “Anyways, the reason why I called was to let you know that I am over you. I’m over you, and—shit, I need to pee. Fuck. Uh, I’m—I’m not in love with you anymore. I’m totally over you. Yeah. That’s it. ‘Mkay, I’m gonna go. Love you, bye.” 

With that, you hung up, tossing your phone aside in favor of downing the rest of the remaining beer in the can before heaving yourself up from the couch and stumbling towards the bathroom. After you were done, you returned to your previous position, now fighting the sleep threatening to overtake you and very quickly losing. The last thing you remembered was thinking about the message you’d left JJ, and how you were proud of yourself for finally getting some closure regarding the feelings you had for him. 

-------

You were woken up in the morning by a pillow being thrown at your face, blinking awake slowly to see none other than JJ Maybank hovering over you, squinting at you curiously. JJ tended to show up at your place randomly, and after the time you almost smacked him upside the head with a baseball bat as he crawled through an open window instead of knocking, now used the key you’d given him to come and go as he pleased. 

“You look like shit.” He snickered, deftly dodging the palm you shoved up towards him. “What did you even do last night?” 

“Drank the beer you left in the fridge.” 

JJ’s eyebrows flew sky high. “All of it? Y/N, that was like, a whole pack.” 

“Mmhm. Smoked those joints I snagged from your stash too.” You mumbled, rubbing your eye furiously. 

“Damn.” JJ let out an impressed whistle. “Who pissed you off?” 

“I don’t even remember, man,” You pulled yourself off the couch, picking up all the empty beer cans littering the coffee table and tossing them into the trash on your way to the bathroom to find some painkillers. Vague memories of last night bounced through your mind in flashes, some more clear, but most of them just a blur. You remembered hearing JJ’s voice over the phone, but not really anything after that. “J, did you call me last night?” 

“Call you? Nah, I stayed over at Brianna’s last night. Haven’t even touched my phone since yesterday morning.” 

Right. Brianna, JJ’s perfect new girlfriend. Of course he was with her last night. Lately, that was where he’d been spending most of his time when he wasn’t working. But you weren’t bitter. Not even a little bit. 

“Huh, that’s weird. I swear I remember talking to you, but I was super wasted last night, so,” You sighed from the bathroom, dry swallowing two painkillers, then padding back out to the kitchen. “I probably dreamt it, or something.” 

“Sounds like you had a blast.” He chuckled, flopping onto the couch with a satisfied huff. You flipped him off behind your back, busying yourself with rifling through the fridge for something to eat and heaving out a sigh when you saw that the shelves were pretty much barren. You made a mental note to swing by the store after your shift at The Wreck tonight. “Yo, you called me last night. There’s a message right here.” 

“Really? It’s probably nothing, you can just—” 

Shit. 

Shit, shit, shit. 

Everything came flooding back in one go—calling JJ late last night, spilling your guts about being both in love and over him, leaving him that fucking voicemail. 

“Dude, you sound absolutely zooted. How much kush was in those joints?” JJ snorted. 

You slammed the fridge shut, all but sprinting towards him, even vaulting over the coffee table like some sort of freaking ninja. “Gimme the phone! Give me your fucking phone, JJ, I swear to god—” 

He sprung up from the couch with a surprised cry, sidestepping your attempts at grabbing his phone. “The fuck is your problem, Y/N? Stop it!” 

You took a chance, throwing yourself onto his back to try and snatch it out of his hand before he had a chance to hear the whole voicemail. But when he froze in place, you knew you were too late. He’d heard the whole thing. 

“Oh my god. Oh my god, this isn’t happening,” You whispered, squeezing your eyes shut as you slid off his back and faceplanted back onto the couch. He didn’t say anything for the longest time, and you were glad for it. Maybe he’d suddenly gone deaf and didn’t actually hear the message. Maybe he’d sprouted a sudden bout of amnesia and forgot everything that happened in the last ten minutes. Maybe—

“You’re over me?” He asked softly. You felt the couch dip down opposite from where you were buried in it. “You’re over me. When were you—when were you…under me?” 

“Oh my god,” You repeated, voice muffled by the couch cushion. 

JJ poked your leg once, twice, then a third time. “Hey. Y/N, look at me. What’s happening? Why are you—what are you doing?” 

“I can’t,” You groaned, finally sitting up. You still refused to look at him though, so he did the only thing he could think of. He kept poking you until you met his gaze, which only took about thirty seconds. “Fine. Lately, I’ve kinda, sorta, maybe…had feelings for you.” 

“Oh. That’s—oh.” His brow creased in thought. “You have feelings for me.” 

“Yeah, well, you had them first.” You didn’t know why you were suddenly so defensive, but you couldn’t take it back now. 

“Whoa, whoa, how did you know that? Who told you? Was it Kie? John B? I can’t tell anyone anything anymore, jesus fuck!” 

“It was Pope. You know how bad he is at keeping secrets.” 

JJ nodded. “That makes more sense. Uh, when?” 

“The night you went on your first date with Brianna.” 

“Brianna. Oh fuck. Bri—I need to go.” JJ spluttered, stumbling to his feet. His hands lodged into his hair as he made his way to the front door, then turned around to face you again. “No, I’ll stay. I don’t know.” 

You started to approach him, then decided against it, keeping both arms wrapped around yourself like you’d be able to shield yourself from the clusterfuck of awkwardness you’d unleashed into the atmosphere. “I’m sorry, J, I didn’t mean to make things weird. I was really drunk last night, and I—” 

“You…you were in love with me. But you’re over me now.” He interrupted, letting his hands slap against his sides. “You are over me now, right? We can just forget this ever happened?” 

You wanted to tell him you were really over him, but you were honestly tired of keeping this huge secret for so long. And as daunting as it seemed, it was time to own up to your feelings and lay it all out there in the open. 

“No.” 

“No…as in, you’re not over me?” 

“I’m still in love with you, JJ.” You mumbled, lifting your gaze from your socked feet to meet his very conflicted one. 

“I can’t do this right now, Y/N, I should—I should leave. Yeah. I’m gonna,” He retreated towards the front door yet again, fumbling for the doorknob blindly, “I’m gonna go. I’m sorry.” With that, he left, the roaring of his bike engine fading into the distance being the only thing that jerked you back to reality. The reality where you might’ve just lost your best friend because of a stupid, drunken voicemail. 

Fuck. 

-------

You were wiping down the rest of the tables at The Wreck after closing when you heard the door open behind you. Plastering a polite smile on your face, you turned around to tell whoever had just come in that you were closed. 

“Sorry, we’re closed, but we open for breakfast at 9 tomorrow morning if you wanna—” You stopped short when you saw it was JJ standing there, eyes widening. “JJ. Hi. What are you doing here?” 

“I need to talk to you.” 

“Look, if it’s about what happened this morning, I already feel awful, and I’m sorry, but I couldn’t lie to you anymore.” You sighed, spraying down another table to wipe. 

“You had no right to tell me you’re in love with me, Y/N. I’m with Brianna now, okay? And I like her, and I think she’s good for me!” JJ’s outburst cleaved through the terse silence like the sharpest of knives, cutting deep into your already guilty conscience like butter. He dragged his hands through his already messy hair, brows furrowing heavily. “Everything’s been going great with her until I found out about you.” 

“I was doing great before I found out about you too, asshole! You think I wanted this to happen? You think I wanted to be the one to mess up your relationship? I know you’re happy, JJ, and I’m happy for you.” You weren’t kidding about the last part. Seeing JJ happy was all you’d ever wanted. But seeing him happy with someone that wasn’t you, that was what hurt. “But this is—you think this is easy for me? Seeing you with her all the time? Because I’m telling you right now, it’s not.” 

“Well then, you should’ve said something before I met her instead of leaving that bullshit voicemail last night!” 

“I didn’t know then, and I was fucking drunk yesterday! I didn’t do it on purpose!” You exclaimed, throwing the towel down on the table rather forcefully. “And how come you didn’t say anything either, huh? If you were in love with me too, why didn’t you just tell me?” 

“I couldn’t! You’re one of my best friends, and me telling you I was in love with you would’ve fucked everything up!” 

“Fucked what up?” 

“The friend group, our friendship—fucking everything!!!” His hands were linked behind his neck now as he paced back and forth between the tables, head tilted up towards the wooden beamed ceiling to avoid looking at you. “You guys are all I have, okay? I can’t lose you. Any of you. And you and me…it would’ve driven a wedge between everyone. No Pogue on Pogue macking, remember?” 

“You’re gonna let a stupid rule we made when we were kids get in the way of things?” You scoffed, crossing your arms. “God, I thought you were braver than that, JJ.” 

A muscle in his jaw flexed as he turned his glare on you. “Guess I’m just a coward for thinking of the group then.” 

“Don’t fucking do that, don’t hide behind our friends. I know you, and I know that you’d never let a stupid rule stop you from doing something you wanted to do, so stop blaming this on it. This is on you.” 

“This is on me? What about you?” 

“Me?” 

“Yeah, you! How come you didn’t say anything?” JJ shot back, jabbing a finger in your direction. “You go around flirting with everyone, hooking up with Tourons, and then you say you’ve been in love with me the whole time? The hell am I supposed to think about that?” 

You knew JJ was just lashing out because he was angry, but there was something in his accusation that struck a nerve. Even he could tell that he’d hit it by the way you shrunk back the slightest bit. 

“Fuck you, JJ. Stop making it seem like I’m throwing myself around at every single fucking guy who comes around!” You snarled, eyes flashing dangerously. 

He faltered, squeezing his eyes shut momentarily, and when he opened them again, they were that soft blue that always made your heart skip a beat. “No, I didn’t—I didn’t mean it like that. It’s just…you have really shitty timing, you know that? Bri and I are just getting good, and I can’t do this with you right now, Y/N!” 

“Then don’t! Just ignore me like you’ve ignored your feelings for god knows how long!” 

“I can’t.” JJ muttered, shaking his head. “It was one thing when I thought I was crazy for being in love with someone I could never have, but now that I know how you feel…it’s different.” 

“Do you still feel the same way about me?” 

“I don’t know.” 

“Yes, you do. Gut answer. Go.” 

“Yes. Fuck, I’m still in love with you, Y/N.” JJ groaned, digging the heels of his palms against his eyes furiously. 

“Then what are you gonna do about it?” 

“Probably something I shouldn’t.” He breathed, not even taking a second to think before he was crossing the restaurant floor and pulling you into his arms to kiss you fiercely. Although taken completely by surprise, you managed to steady yourself and kiss him back. 

Kissing JJ was better than you could’ve ever imagined, but you couldn’t stop the little voice in the back of your head from screaming ‘he has a girlfriend, for fuck’s sake’, and that was had you pulling away from him. 

“We can’t—we can’t do this.” You spluttered, pushing him away a few steps. JJ’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “Dude, you have a girlfriend. You can’t be kissing me like…like that! We shouldn’t even be kissing at all!”

“Crap. Yeah, I know. I know, I’ll break up with her tomorrow.” JJ ran his hand through his hair frustratedly, nodding furiously when you shot him a pointed look. “Look, I’ll be nice about it, and I won’t bring you up. I’ll just say that…I don’t feel the same way about her anymore.”

“I feel horrible.” 

“Whoa, kissing me was that bad?” 

“No, because I’m basically a homewrecker!” 

JJ was quick to approach you again, sliding his fingers under your chin and tilting your head up to meet his stern gaze. “Y/N, you’re not a homewrecker. I love you. I want to be with you. I don’t care what anyone else thinks.” 

“But you said you and Bri were just getting good. That she was good for you.” You frowned, to which JJ smiled guiltily with a shake of his head. 

“I was lying. Kinda just wanted to make you feel bad for springing this on me.” He snickered. “Did I go too far?” 

“You’re an asshole, Maybank.” You shoved him away from you with a huff, but he came right back, trapping your wrists in one hand while the other came to cup your cheek as he pressed a sweet kiss to your lips. “Stop kissing me.” 

“Oh, please, you don’t really want me to stop kissing you, do you?” He snorted. “I mean, you are in love with me, after all.” 

All you could do was glare at him playfully, but you couldn’t deny that what he was saying wasn’t true. 

“C’mon, I’ll help you finish cleaning so you can close up and we can get the fuck out of here.” He chuckled, giving your hip one last squeeze before you grabbed the wet towel off the table and flung it at him. “You little shit! Get over here!” 

Safe to say, it took you a lot longer than usual to close up when JJ was with you, but you didn’t really care. 

All you cared about was that you were in love with JJ Maybank and he was in love with you, and it only took one pack of beer, two joints, and a drunk voicemail for you to admit it to each other. 

taglist!

@scenesofobx @milkiane @purple-flamingo @tenaciousperfectionunknown @strawberryforks @vesperluvsbillie @fearthewalkingbitch @like-gabriel-and-castiel @eichenhouseproperty @dpaccione @directioner5lifw @liltimmyst @lilygreennn @sunkissedsteve

[uncouth-the-fifth]

imagine damian and the reader at the wayne gala. he gets jealous when he sees her flirting with someone else. he ends up pulling her into a bathroom and fucking her in front of a mirror while saying that other person can’t treat her like he does

and that’s how the reader finds out damian has feelings for her. all this time he acted like he hates her because he’s in denial

Title: More Than They Ever Said

Paring: Robin!Damian (18+) / Canary!Reader

Tags/Warnings: semi-public sex, oral (f receiving), vaginal sex, bathroom sex, slight underage drinking (reader is like 20 lol), mentions of golf.

Word Count: 7150

Notes: sooooo.... this def evolved beyond a drabble lol. the way gala sex kills me every time 😭 I was a little mushy w Dami here bc I miss his sweet side. This also sounded a lot like goldenspecs12's request from Wattpad, so I hope you don't mind that I meshed the two together 😚 I leaned toward Damian liking the reader more than being in denial, but that’s the only thing I sacrificed between the two requests. This one is my fluffiest and most romantic yet 💖

"can I request Damian w a Queen reader, like she's Oliver and Dinah's child? say the reader is a hero but not very active, like she comes in when her parents can't. so when she and Damian meet, they hit it off. The main request is that they sneak away at a gala held by Oliver and the reader and Damian have sex."

Ask to be added to my taglist for future posts!

The party was more fun than you thought it would be.

Benefits were usually chalk-full of old, wealthy people that thought they made good conversationalists. The board members of Queen Industries were tired of Oliver trying to escape their claws, so you’d been recruited in his place. While your dad got to play minigolf in the penthouse’s massive party floor, you were confined to the lounge, playing up what an intelligent, capable business partner you’d be when you were CEO. Fellow businessmen gruffed about their plans with you while their wives cooed and drank, pinching your cheeks.

You thought that you’d hate it, but the attention and the praise was nice. It made you feel like you were helping your dad and your family’s company, which was constantly criticized and judged for it’s choice in CEO. Everyone called your father a lazy silver-spooned idiot, but he was one of the only men in Star City who actually cared. By the time you had Q.I’s biggest donors laughing out of their seats, Dinah’s hands slipped over your shoulders and you were kissed on the side of the face. Thank you, she mouthed, and your position as family support-beam was covered.

Since most of the benefit-goers were at least forty years your senior, you gravitated to your dad. From the penthouse’s upper balcony, you could see his friends circling around the tiny green mats they were using as a makeshift golf course. Usually, Ollie made sure his public persona’s aim was as garbage as his taste in drink was. But tonight, he played as Green Arrow, who never missed. Not once. Especially when it came to Bruce Wayne, who’s golf game was abysmal at best.

But like Oliver, Bruce was a new man tonight. It looked like he was ready to break out the batarangs any minute now. The two men were barely civil about the viciousness of their competition, and if the view of the game from the balcony was interesting, then from below it must’ve been the greatest show of fragile masculinity ever displayed. You had to make fun of them.

The only opening in the circle of men, who all had their hands on their chins as Bruce lined up his next shot, was by the floor-to-ceiling windows to one side of the game. Just one man stood there, hands in his pockets. You slid next to him, unbothered, and squinted at the game.

Everyone in the crowd was dead silent. Bruce was lining up his golf ball so it would roll into a mug a couple of feet away, so you helpfully provided, “A little to the left, Mr. Wayne.”

Your words overlapped with someone else’s. Where you had said Mr. Wayne, they had said Father. Then the man next to you was his son, but...

You would have never guessed it would be him.

Reasonably, you knew that Robin was Damian Wayne. Oliver could be a little loose-lipped at times, and by his judgment you’d been a teenager just a year ago - what could a twenty year old do to Batman’s secret identity? Not much.

Until you saw Robin without his mask.

Damian was achingly beautiful. He was your age, but he stood and talked like he was much older. There was an angle to his shoulder that made him seem astute and sexy. His eyes fixed on you when you spoke at the same time, and they were a surprising mossy color that jumped out against his tan skin, like plants flourishing out of rich soil. There was just enough blue in them to make him seem haunting. Any moment, you felt like he was going to corner you and whisper your future throatily in your ear.

Looking into them, those piercing eyes, for longer than a second made you want to blurt, “You’re much prettier without your mask.”

But that would expose his secret to every golf-loving idiot in earshot, so Oliver had been wrong. A twenty-year-old like you could do fatal damage to Batman’s secret identity, but for Damian, the short-tempered, snappish leader of the Teen Titans, you would risk anything.

Damian stared, and you stared. He squinted, wet his lips, then turned back to the game. This was your only acknowledgment that he recognised you. His voice was deeper, smoother, than you remember it. “Queen.”

You shifted in your shoes, almost laughing in shock. “...Wayne.”

The game grew boring and Damian didn’t say anything else, so you said nothing too, sneaking glances at him. The last time you’d spoken to Robin had been in costume, when he’d thanked you for assisting with a mission. He’d really been thanking you for standing up for him. You didn’t team up often with the Titans, but when you did, you found that they were unusually snappy and mean with their leader. Not necessary on purpose, but you could tell that Damian couldn’t take as many bites as he pretended to. Standing up for him had been a simple thing. The good thing to do. Now, with that look in his eyes, it almost felt like he still thought about it.

He must have, because the kiss you shared at the end of that mission had glowed with heat. To be fair, you both may have believed you were going to die (before the team pulled through and saved you), so it could’ve been a heat-of-the-moment thing. But this was Robin - if he didn't want to kiss you, he wouldn't. And yet he did.

You’d kissed. And the energy of that kiss lingered between you now, drawing you closer together, putting tiny smiles on your faces. He was cute. Cuter without that mask on.

You stood in the stupid golf silence, feeling foolish. Flirting with boys was much easier in fishnets. It didn’t help how fine Damian���s profile was. He had soft, feathery lashes that occasionally touched down on beauty marked cheeks. His lips were even fuller from the side, forever drawn in a curious line. And those eyes, when they caught yours and danced away again, were much too nice to hide behind a mask. You couldn’t get that thought out of your mind.

When Bruce finally made his move, you leaned in to whisper something to each other at the same time, accidentally knocking shoulders.

“I - apologies,” Damian flushed.

“Oh, um, my bad,” you rubbed awkwardly at the spot where you’d collided. “...You were going to say something?”

Damian’s eyes flicked to your fathers, then to you, unimpressed. He lowered his voice so only you could hear. “They’re awfully hypocritical, don’t you think? Father snaps at me everytime I use my skills in public, and yet he’s putting with perfect aim like it’s not the very same.”

Chuckling, you rolled your eyes and scooted closer, ducking your voice into the bubble between your bodies. “My dad’s the same way. Don’t aim in the house, he says, unless it’s him trying to beat Bruce Wayne.”

Your company’s shoulders turned sideways, leaning into you. His breath ghosted the hair on your neck, standing it on end, and again that silky voice sent tingles down your spine. Damian must change his voice as Robin, because he never spoke like this then. So huskily, so low.

He shook his head. “Unbelievable.”

You watched him. He watched you. You ran your tongue over your teeth, and Damian subtly adjusted his slacks from his pockets.

At the same time, you asked each other, “Would you like to get a drink?”

_

Your hiding place was a loveseat in the lounge, between more businessmen and their ditzy heirs. The bartender was your family’s, so he smiled and turned down your request for a drink, courtesy of your dad’s strictness. Luckily, he didn’t recognise Damian. You watched him order it at the bar, his rings catching the light, the muscle in his arms peeking out from under his blazer.

“I think he suspected I wasn’t of age, so he only gave me one.” He took the place next to you, propping his ankle on one knee and lounging out like a panther. Damian offered the cocktail to you, once he’d decided the coast was clear. It was a cute gesture. “Is that acceptable?”

You fished a five dollar bill out of your purse. “Only if you take this for paying. Don’t think I didn’t see you try and sneakily get that past me.”

Damian scrutinized the bill, then you, somehow managing to be a smartass without opening his mouth. Instead of thinking about how nice it would feel to kiss the slight crease between his brows, you traded hands with him so the bill was in his and the drink was in yours. The gentle brush of you palm to his knuckles put way too many butterflies in your belly.

You talked about everything and anything. About home, family life, your cities. The best of it was when Damian dipped his head so only you could hear him, keeping your secrets close and your bodies closer. This was the only way he talked about Robin, so you circled back to any vigilante subject you could think of just so Damian would keep purring into your ear like that. Better yet, he was smart. Talking to him was engaging, and within minutes he'd entranced you, so you sat there talking for more than an hour. Around you, the party rotated and went on.

At one point, you took a drink of the cocktail and passed it to him to share. Damian placed his lips right where yours had been, licking up the cocktail salt and gulping it down slow, adam’s apple bobbing, like it wasn’t the taste of the vodka he was savoring.

Eventually, your bliss was broken. Damian was called over to his father, again, to discuss business, and he left you with your remaining cocktail and the memory of that mission. You couldn’t find a reason to move from your seat. When you’d realized that you and Robin had been led into a trap on that mission, it’d been too late, and your efforts to escape became more and more futile. All you could do was pray the Titans got to you on time. Robin had offered you his glove as the walls closed in, and you’d watched up-close as he assumed you were both about to die. The fear in his eyes was strange - like it was familiar to him. At the same time, you cupped his neck and he held your upper back, and you’d kissed fervently, sweetly.

Damian had put his forehead to yours, and promised even as the trap shrunk around you, “You were excellent. More excellent than they ever said.”

In the big picture, it was a strange last remark to make, and afterwards you’d been too happy about surviving to think about it. But in the moment, you understood. You were understood. Somehow, Damian had reached into your soul and gouged out the words you’d been dying to hear, from your parents, from anyone, and uttered them to you with burning conviction. Maybe it was the adrenaline, or maybe he meant it. Damian found you excellent. Someone, somewhere, didn’t think you were a failure.

Odd, how you’d never seen the face of the man you thought you’d die with (until now), and yet he saw you so easily. You watched him follow his father into the party crowd now, wondering. The Titans had saved you before you could ask what he’d meant. More importantly, before you could tell him the same. He was excellent.

_

Once you’d finished off your drink, you left it at the bar and grinned evilly at your family bartender. He rolled his eyes and slyly delivered you another, which, on your superhero schedule, would not have you drunk yet. Another heir to some big company was seated at your right, ignored by his father enough to look for some small talk with you.

He was one of the cute, nerdy types that were usually in awe of you. Girls, available girls, were typically rare at these kinds of parties, so he took you not having a boyfriend as permission to flirt with you. Unfortunately for him, your seat gave a perfect angle on Damian across the party floor. He was impressing the wives of Wayne business partners, who flocked around him like they’d flocked around you, pinching his cheeks. You could almost read their lips enough to guess what they were saying. What a handsome young man you are! Oh, Bruce must be so proud.

“...and then my father flipped over his kayak! Would you believe it? Two thousand dollars, thrown right in our family’s lake.” Your company snickered, howling at his own story.

You circled the rim of your glass, watching how Damian tried to teach some of the women phrases in Arabic. Unknown to them, they were some pretty funny swear words. It threw you into a bout of giggles, and the man next to you kept talking, spurred on by the noise.

The flock of hens around Damian receded, and his shoulders slouched in relief. That was cute, too. It wasn’t often that people understood how draining these parties were, but for people like you and Damian, it was a racetrack of endless, boring circles. Everything was a formality. Few things were genuine. Damian turned, and you caught his eye to let him know you were going to meet him. He nodded toward a side hall, his mouth a curious line again. If you looked at it long enough, it felt like a smile when he mouthed, escape?

Your company was still talking. He stopped when you grabbed his tie and planted a pity-kiss on his cheek, waving to him as you bounced away. “Sorry, kid. Not my type.”

_

You planned to bring Damian to the secluded balcony on the second floor to unwind, but instead, you were taken by the wrist and maneuvered into an empty powder room. It was colder than the steaming party air and smelled like champagne, with couches to sit on and mirrors to powder at. For a bathroom, the lights were warm and low. The noise of the party went quiet the instant the door was shut, like you and Damian had entered your own little world. No more circles. No more back and forth.

“Here,” Damian said, noting the mirrors. He tilted his head as he asked, like he was nervous, “Is this acceptable?”

“It is the ladies powder room, but I’ll give you a pass, since you’re cute.” You joked. Damian didn’t make a move to relax on one of the couches yet, hanging in front of you like there was more he wanted to say. There was more you wanted to say, too, but no good words came to mind.

But the silence wasn’t awkward. Again, Damian stared, and you stared. The glass he brought with him was set down. He put one fist on the counter beside the door, and like honey had been poured on your nerves, you realized how easy it would be for him to push you up against it. Kiss you senseless. Heat drooled off of him this close, and you wondered if he’d still lean in to whisper to you even if you were alone.

The lack of words drew to a point where something had to be said, anything, but his eyes felt so good on your skin and it was interesting to see him nervous. Something strange told you that Damian liked the silence, too.

You wet your lips with your tongue. Damian cleared his throat, and took a sip from his glass. “Was I interrupting something?”

“Between me and that guy?” You smiled gently, like you were reassuring him, and laughed to yourself. “Oh, man, you should’ve seen it, Damian. Poor kid really thought I was flirting with him. He’d totally convinced himself, it was hilarious.”

His profile was tense in the mirror, which you stole glances at to watch how the amber light played on his handsome skin. When Damian swallowed his drink, his throat rolled in the sexiest way, and immediately your mind fed you with visions of suckling, kissing, tonguing his neck.

“Why’d you ask?” Your eyes sparkled. Damian drew a step closer, and you used the opportunity to swipe a drop of alcohol from the corner of his lip with your thumb. “You jealous?”

It was the touch or the suggestion that made Damian pause. He didn’t stutter, but lagged over what to say, eyes vast and wanting as they raked over your face. “I don’t get jealous,” he clarified, “but… I do intend to be the only man to kiss you tonight.”

Damian’s hand took your chin. Your belly exploded with instant arousal, hitting you like a bullet of liquid lust. “You’re the only man who’s kissed me like that,” you whispered, taking his tie in hand. “I hope that’s always true.”

His voice had gone throaty. “May I kiss you again?”

Again, he reminded you.The two of you had kissed before, and it had been spectacular, terrifying, and excellent.

“Please,” you said, and Damian rushed to your aid.

Not a moment more was wasted. Curling his tie into your fist, you drew him in, slow and deep and wonderfully. Damian’s cologne hit you before his lips did, and both made your core throb for friction. Two broad hands slammed your hips into the door. His fingertips smoothed up the fabric of your dress, pressing you back and squeezing you in until you could feel his belt buckle against your belly. Damian was a sweet, magnetic kisser, chasing your lips like he was on a crusade to save them. Each time they met, he swam deeper. The point of his nose bumped against your cheek. You hummed your laugh against his lips, and Damian groaned as he pulled away, readjusting, twisting, testing the limits of the kiss. And you followed him at every step or more, revelling in his taste.

You didn’t want him to think you wanted the kiss to end, so you drew the hands braced under his blazer around his neck. Soon, that didn’t feel close enough, so you cupped each side of his face and pecked Damian until you were breathless. He brought you in until your arms were flat to his chest, the kiss almost vertical in its intensity.

He groaned when you parted, gasping and blinking just inches from your face. Your mouths were still connected by a thick string of drool, which hung until it split and clung to Damian’s chin and fell, marking a wet strip down into his collar. You panted, watching it go.

Damian left your waist to hold your wrists, keeping your hands around his face. He settled warmly into your touch, basking in it, and the pure enjoyment on his face made you smile. You wondered if anyone else had cared for him like this. If Damian had ever felt someone hold his face and treasure it. The thought gave you a strange urge, so you followed it.

You brought Damian’s brow level with your mouth and sweetly kissed his forehead. Then his nose bridge, then his temples. His face was so quickly warm that you giggled. In the most unsubtle way possible, Damian drew back his hips so you couldn’t feel the heat there, and closed his eyes, begging you to continue.

“I want you,” you whispered against his jaw.

Damian shivered. “You have me.”

You shifted one hand to his shoulder, giving yourself more room to nuzzle and kiss his neck. The line of drool was still there, so you cupped his skin and tilted his jaw up, and in one stroke, licked all the way to his earlobe. Damian’s moan poured from his mouth like a growing flood. You even felt his thighs press together between you, and pleasure tingled in your throat when he choked at the glide of your tongue.

He released your wrists, reached beside you, and locked the door with an audible click.

Then, Damian devoured you. Both hands hooked around your back, arching your chest into his, and finally, bringing his bulge between your hips. You clung to him for dear life, helpless as his teeth pressed into your neck like a vampire. Damian fed like one, too, suckling the skin there like he was starved. Your panties were so wet that you were desperate to get out of them, grinding your core against his.

Damian retreated, gasping. He licked the spit off of his lips and glared into your eyes. Bluntly, he said, “I want to eat you out.”

Once more, you kissed him, delirious with excitement. Your lungs burned for air, but your core burned harder for him. “Take off that suit and you can do whatever you want to me.”

His eyes gleamed. “I plan to.”

Quickly, you shoved your hands into his sleeves and pushed them off his shoulders, giving you a crisp glimpse at his carved shoulders. Damian's fingers blurred from button to button, but he saved the last for you on purpose. You worked in tandem and with little thought. If he could, Damian would steal a kiss, and you would bite his lip and chase him into more. When that last button was popped, his white button-down parted for a gorgeous plane of hard-earned muscle. His abs, ribs and pecs were pockmarked with scars, shrapnel marks and in some places, bullet holes. You stopped.

At your staring, Damian pressed his lips together.

“It's.. not appealing, I know,” he monotoned.

“No,” you disagreed, palming his stomach, “it’s impressive. All these do is show how strong you are, how long you've survived. You're so… built...” you didn't hide your thorough examination of him, “...I mean, we have to be to do what we do, but still… It suits you. It's sexy.”

You worried you'd ruined the moment with your babbling, but he glimmered under your praise. Damian brightened in the way only Damian could, smirking devilishly and towering over you like a supervillain.

“Sexy?” He pressed his naked chest into yours, whispering hotly in your ear. You could feel his silk tie pinned between you. “Does that mean I'm your type?”

You rolled your eyes. “Eavesdropper.”

“Temptress,” Damian replied, just as easily.

To claim your title, you found Damian's belt and pulled on it until the clasp gave. It made a satisfying whipping noise as you ripped it off of him, shouldered into his space to grab his waist in one hand, and cupped his throbbing boxers in the other. Damian's sigh came hoarsely and wanton from his mouth.

“Fuck me,” you demanded, grinning with delight.

Instead of wasting time on a response, Damian fell to his knees, a faithful worshipper. He did the gentlemanly thing and helped you kick off your heels. The tile was icy on your bare feet, but it only mattered until Damian ran his hands up your thighs. Sliding his fingers underneath the fabric, he bunched it up your middle, peering up at you smugly through his lashes. You could feel the debauchery of it - Damian, on his knees, tie hanging still from his neck, pinning you to the door. You, your legs spread and wanting.

Damian sucked in a breath. Your panties had an obvious wet patch, put there by him. He thumbed it carefully, watching your brows tense and your eyes close, basking in your initial whine. All of it enchanted him. You were soaking because of him, trembling because of him, marked because of him. There was not one place he would rather be than here.

Damian collected your sweetness and sampled the taste on his thumb, trapping it behind his smug smile. He ran his tongue over his teeth, spreading the flavor around his mouth, savoring it. As Damian rolled your underwear down your legs, his cock twitched in his open fly. You were beautiful. Oh, he was going to enjoy this.

“Put your leg over my shoulder,” Damian ordered, smirking, “I want to taste you.”

Warmth exploded in your cheeks. “G-go ahead.”

Gradually, you situated your leg across his back, pussy tensing at the touch of the cooler air. This didn't matter for long. Damian's warm lips nuzzled and kissed the thigh closest to him, painting messy reflective circles on your skin with his kiss. Even that made your legs tense wildly, so Damian shoving his wet, blazing tongue into the folds of you cunt pumped moan after moan from your mouth.

“Damian!” You yelped.

Oh, he definitely liked that. Damian pinched your ass and used his mouth so passionately that his head shook back and forth. He darted right for your clit, sucking it until his cheeks were hollow and humming smugly between your legs with every squeal. Parting your folds with one hand, Damian kissed your core just as dirtily as he'd kissed you. The dangerous glint in his eye never faded. He plunges his tongue inside you in earnest, slurping obscenely, purposefully. There's no need for Damian to shoot you cute looks or put on a show - his skill was the performance, because that skill was unbeatable. Your pussy was already tender, fucked nerveless by Damian's filthy mouth. He vibrated your cunt with a deep groan before he drew away, face dripping with slick like a pornstar’s.

“You're suitably wet,” he said, matter-of-factly, “would you like me to use my fingers?”

All the strength you had went into a weak, pleading nod.

Damian was polite enough to grant you your bearings first, letting you grip his hair and squeeze the counter before he resumes. You give him the sweetest, most precious whine when Damian licks you open again. He wisely starts with one finger and builds from there, earning you with pumps and curls of his digits. Damian's talents quickly become a currency, one that you exchange with mewls and pants of praise.

“So good,” you whine, “oh, fuck - fuck, just like that…”

Damian smirks between your legs, jamming his fingers faster into your sore pussy. Lust sizzles low in your gut, ramped up again and again by his thrusting. It’s so powerful that you roll and buck off the door, your hips in his face. You want him - want him more than you want anything.

“You're ravaging,” Damian hums between licks. His eyes are closed, but that only gives the way he touches you more meaning.

It’s so surprising from his mouth that your hold on his hair slips, setting Damian free. He pants, catching his breath, and it’s easily the sexiest thing you’ve ever seen in your life. The effort has slouched him from his knees to his calves, further spreading his legs and opening up the fly of his pants. A solid bulge has formed and spilled out there, straining to escape his briefs like an arm in a sling that’s too small, way too small, for someone of his size. Three of Damian’s fingers are still twisting inside of you.

Slowly, Damian tipped back his head and hung down, arranging himself beneath your cunt. “So beautiful.” His free hand splayed where your leg met your hip. “May I touch you?”

“I-I get it’s the gentleman thing to do, to - to keep asking, but fuck, Damian,” you cursed, “you can do whatever you want to me.”

Damian’s intense jade eyes were so dilated that you could barely make out the color. He dragged his cheek against your thigh, fingers still circling inside you, and grinned like a shark. It was probably a bad idea to give the heir to the Demon’s Head that much power over you.

His other hand squeezed your skin, slow to passionate, from your belly to your breasts beneath your dress. It’s clear by the way Damian looks at you that he loves what he sees. The texture of his veiny, calloused hands feels good on your waist and ass, dragging you closer to him. He chuckles when your back arches, when your nails press into his hands, his back muscles, throwing himself into his task. Damian’s nose prods your folds as he licks you clean, tongue dipping and sliding against your sore clit. It’s like he’s done this for you before, in this exact way. Though he utilizes his tongue the most, his lips too are brutal, matched perfectly to fit your pussy lips.

But that tongue - how Damian’s jaw isn’t tired, you don’t know. He parts your folds and latches onto your clit, flicking his tongue at superspeed until drool and cum bubbles from your sensitive core. Your back winds tighter at every vibrating lick, paralyzing the muscles in your legs with glorious pleasure. It’s so exquisite you start to melt to the floor like warm clay, only to be bolstered back up by Damian, both hands viciously squeezing your ass. He keeps going not for you, but himself, sucking down every last drop of your juices.

Shattered, you twist hopelessly into his mouth, chasing the strained feeling like it’s the last you’ll ever glimpse. “Fuck, fuck - D-Damian, ah…”

“Did it feel good when I made you cum?” He teases, “It certainly tastes good. All those filthy little noises you make for me…” Damian shakes his head at himself, like it’s too fantastic to indulge again. He leaves your clit with a satisfied kiss. “Beautiful.”

Once more, the words are surprising to hear from him. You always considered Damian the prude type, but here he is, on his knees for you, mouth and chin glittering with your juices while he teases you in low, sexy tones. At your surprised look, Damian has the gall to blush.

With his ring finger in his mouth, he ponders, “If a man has never said that to you before...” pop, “consider me surprised.”

“Never while finger-fucking me, at least,” you admited, legs still trembelling. “It was sweet. You… you meant that?”

It was hard to imagine Damian Wayne finding anything beautiful. Even you, who was pretty enamored with him, figured he would judge by quality or skill, not beauty. The words tasted new on his tongue.

Slowly, Damian stood and stretched, his shoulders tight after staying in the strange position for so long. Lifting his arms coincidentally let his waistband sit lower on his hips, flashing his green boxers your way while showing off the huge, carved muscles of his arms. Truly, Damian’s subtlety was unmatched. You didn’t mind his miniature bragging fest - not when he had so much to brag about. Eating you out had put an excited shimmer in his skin, so the gold-toned lights of the room reflected sexily off his sweat, already accenting his kissable tan.

“I did,” he told you, moving on to his sucking middle finger. His other hand played on your thigh, stroking it. “I’ve always been… drawn to you. Every mission we’ve had together. I have a profound feeling that we are very similar.”

You laughed. Not at what he said, but the timing of it. “Would you believe me if I said I felt the same way?”

Damian made a face like his heart was doing jumping jacks. “A few hours ago? No. But now…” he barricaded you against the door, first with his hands and then his hips, closed in so tightly that you had to look past your nose to meet his eyes. “Your crush is adorably obvious. I’m annoyed that I didn’t see it before.”

Your rounded your hands against Damian’s shoulders, then his tie. It twisted nicely around your fingers, silky and cold in comparison to your flushed skin. You were tempted to fix your dress, but nothing, not even the world ending, could make you leave this room.

“My crush is obvious? Damian, all you’ve done for the last two hours is sneak me drinks and imply how much easier it is to be around me.” You grinned, “What’d you say earlier? There you are, Queen. Finally, someone intelligent enough to speak to me.”

Damian shrugged. “It’s true. Your knowledge of bioluminescent ocean life is fascinating.”

“I can’t believe you said that after giving me head for ten minutes.”

“It’s actually been closer to twelve,” Damian smirked.

Playfully, you pinched Damian’s cheek, then pulled him by the tie into a starved, energetic kiss. He must’ve been praying for your permission to continue, because the plan he’d been forming is quickly put into action. You’re hugged, arms scooped under your back as you kiss him. Damian surrenders his mouth to a bit of revenge tonguing while undoing your dress. No amount of kissing will pull him from his task, but your hand is a special case - it smooths down the front of his boxers and Damian melts.

“Y/N,” he groans.

Damian petulantly resists the temptation to close his eyes, but your touch is soft and sweet, demanding him to yield. Your lips suckle on his neck and Damian’s knees buckle. If getting his mouth between your legs didn’t turn him on, then this will finish him for sure.

“I missed you. Kissing you.” You purr into his throat. “One could never be enough for me.”

Is this what it’s like to be wanted? Damian asked himself. The only possible answer thrilled him, and he found himself pouring even more passion into the kiss, into you, wanting to share that rush of affection. You respond to his every touch with vigor. Damian’s heart stalls each time your thumb strokes his face, each time the other strokes him through his slacks.

“Me either,” he rasped, and helped you out of your dress. His tone was shy, but his words held too much depth to be meaningless. I want a wealth of them. I always want to kiss you, was what he wanted to say, but Damian was too embarrassed to raise the words. This moment was too special to ruin with his hopeless romanticism. He kissed you again and again, and to his amazement, you kissed him right back.

“Fuck me,” you begged him between breaths. “Right here. I don’t care if we’re caught.”

I don’t care if we’re seen together. I want to be seen with you, I’m not ashamed of you.

Damian cupped your face and almost knocked you both over with the strength of his kiss. Nose-to-nose, eyes closed, he commanded, “Bend over the fucking counter.”

In a blink, Damian turned and there you were, open and waiting for him. The sink was hip-level, so the bend was nothing but perfect - Damian could fuck you from behind and watch your lust-blown reflection without issue. Your perfect pussy drooled leftover cum down your legs, making your sex shine in the light.

In the mirror, you watched Damian’s eyes darken in delight. His pupils followed the line of your ass to your back, appreciating it like an artist would, like he intended to paint you later and needed to memorize the greatest shapes of your figure. The marble was icy against your hard nipples, which Damian had exposed when he’d impatiently shoved down your bra. Now, he cupped one of your breasts as he bent over you, kissing and suckling his way down your back.

“Perfect,” Damian hissed.

Shyly pressing your butt back against him, you buried your face in your arms and bit your lip, waiting for him to open you up. Damian’s shadow came to hover over you, and in the mirror his eyes were vicious, pools of circling sharks. “Are you ready?”

“Mhm,” you nodded. “Take your time.”

Though you weren’t being sarcastic, Damian took it that way and pinched one cheek of your ass. “With you? I will.” Then, with the same smoothness, Damian asked, “Condom?”

“Pill,” you replied, and Damian nodded his approval.

His pants rustled as they fell down his legs. Where you couldn’t see, Damian committed the sight to memory - his cock in hand, your pussy spread open, all for him. You squeaked when his hot tip touched your cooling clit, and squeaked again when it glided down your pussy and tested your opening. He knew he’d found the way when you winced.

In an unsurprising moment of compassion (for those who truly knew him), Damian kissed the top of your head and offered you his hand. “Would you like to hold it while I…?”

You took his hand and squeezed it to your chest, squeezing him closer in the process, too. “Thank you. Go slow, for this part…”

Damian complied. His sweat-sticky chest hovered warmly over your back. Even if Damian was big, you were wetter than you’d ever been in your entire life - any pain would quickly slide into pleasure. He braced himself with a deep inhale, and a hot, sharp sensation told you that he’d entered you. Where you choked in a needy gasp, Damian poured out his version of a whimper. You both held it. Then, breath by breath, you were struck with the realization that you’d been dying to feel this for weeks, for months, and only now was that heat being satisfied. Damian’s tongue and fingers had come close, but this is what would cure that aching emptiness - his big, girthy cock.

The deathgrip you had on Damian’s hand loosened. “You look perfect,” he murmured into your hair, instantly making your core flutter. “Oh,” he chuckled filthily, “you like that? Funny, how badly that idiot at the bar wanted to be in my place right now…but it’s me who gets to pound into—”

“Damian,” you warned.

He smiled smugly against your neck. “Nothing.”

Dutifully, Damian withdrew his hips, taking all of the heat with him. When he rolled back in, a hot, tingling sensation roared over all of your senses, and you let the moan at the top of that tsunami loose. It was clear that he couldn’t fuck you like he wanted to with one hand fished down at your side, so he glued both to the base of your back and started to thrust in earnest.

“So full...” You mewled, and Damian became a human pile-driver.

Your head seemed to roll off your shoulders with every crazed, rhythmic slam, so you grabbed the faucet and held on for dear life. Every slap was so loud, so powerful, that you prayed this one random bathroom in the penthouse was soundproofed. Anyone walking past would know you were getting railed out of your mind. You tried to compensate by moaning and squeaking quietly, but with force came volume. It didn’t matter how silent you were, Damian’s hips, your ass, the squelch of him inside you - each noise filled the bathroom, echoing off the tile.

The only way you could think to describe him was filling. First, there was the hot, cinching tension of his hands fused to your waist. Then there was his cock, which begged to be squeezed more and more with every pass. You responded to each throb with a mighty clench, which bent Damian over you like an animal, gasping for breath. His balls were painted with your slick. The closer you came to orgasm together, the closer Damian came to you. His hands migrated to higher on your sides, then up by your shoulders, then around you, where Damian kissed your back and rubbed your belly while he made love to you. He talked more than he moaned. Your ear was filled with sweet nothings, with vicious promises of what he would do with a whole night alone with you.

Damian’s reflection was wild with lust. He met your eyes as he fucked you, whispering how beautiful you are, how good you take his dick. His deep green eyes were so dark you couldn’t make out the brown in them anymore. The long muscles on his arms drew taut with each thrust, making his biceps bulge and pin your hips to the sink. Soon enough, a bruise would form from the pressure. One of many treasures from tonight - you would be thinking about Damian in his crisp suit for months to come, and the mess he’d become with you now even longer. Your pleasure built and built and built, like a nail struck further into the ground with a hammer. A very, very big hammer.

“M’ cumming,” Damian husked, slowing his plowing to a sloppy glide. Even his endurance was spent, and you were glad he’d spent it all on you. “Where d’ you…?”

You braced your hands on the counter, then on one of Damian’s. Together, you smoothed his digits down your stomach and between your soft, abused folds. “Inside me, please, please please—” you begged him, “fuck, a-as deep as you can go.”

As a test of your flexibility, Damian turned in and kissed you. Just as he parted your lips with his tongue, he parted your folds with his fingertips, overriding your clit as his cock throbbed inside you to the hilt. He took the invitation as a command. Damian pressed in until you could feel his abs mold to your ass, then stuttered his hips in quick, agonized dips to get himself there. With his fingers and his cock putting stars in your eyes, you finished first.

The white marble counter fizzed in your vision, until all you could see was that powerful, endless white, humming in your mind’s eye. Still, Damian wasn’t finished yet. You bumped your temple against his chin and hummed, “Cum for me, baby… fuck, a-ah!”

Your pussy’s throb raced and raced until it spilled over, pulling Damian right under the current. One clench and he was done for, so the velvety, periodic squeeze of your cunt emptied his store. You hung there, spasming in unison, until that overwhelming heat spurted in a ring around Damian’s cock and flooded out of you. Only then did his fingers stop on your clit, and you settled warmly in each other's arms and tried to remember your names and who you were.

Damian pulled out, then snuggled back in. He would’ve been nervous any other time, but he’d just put his dick inside you, so a little instinctive cuddling could be forgiven. On shaky legs, you turned around and sunk into him. You could tell by how he was eyeing the sink that he was desperate to get clean again, so with one kiss (on the cheek), you set Damian loose.

In companionable silence, Damian cleaned up and you collected the clothes abandoned on the floor. Staring at the corner where you’d just had the best sex of your life put an embarassingly pleasant warmth in your chest. Interesting, how one terrifying moment could become something as special as this. Fascinating, how you’d felt like you’d known him all your life.

“You know… I think you’re excellent, too.” You told him, finishing off the knot for his tie.

Damian dipped his head to hide his smile, but something so bright was impossible to hide.

[barnesafterglow]

let it happen

summary: when you run into your adorable lab partner at a frat party, the night doesn't end like you could ever expect

pairing: frat!steve x f!reader

word count: 3k

warnings: explicit language, mild smut (MINORS DNI), drinking, drunk sex, charming af steve, a smidge of angst, cheesy confessions, wanda ia a good bro, and so is sam

a/n: this took me a lot longer than i thought but i think it ended up okay! thank you @sweetascanbee for requesting this, i hope it was everything you wanted &lt;3

main masterlist ─ i no longer have a taglist, but you can follow @theafterglowlibrary and turn on post notifications to get fic updates!

C’mon, it won’t be that bad, she had said. Of course it wasn’t that bad for her, she had Vision’s tongue down her throat practically the second she walked through the door. Wanda better be glad you loved her so much.

You had gotten lucky with your randomized roommate freshman year. Moving to a city where you knew no one was not the best move as far as your social life was concerned, but you and Wanda had clicked instantly and you had been pretty much attached at the hip ever since. Except, now she had started dating someone and more and more of her time was spent at his frat house.

The very frat house where you now stood with your back to the wall, watching Wanda and Vis dance while you sipped on your third drink of the night. You were starting to feel the effects of the alcohol, but without anything else to do, idly drinking was your best option.

You wanted to be annoyed - Wanda has spent all week convincing you to come to this frat party because you had been cramped up in your room stressing over finals - but she looked so happy you couldn’t fault her for wanting to get out of your apartment for a night. Plus, you really did need a break, the stress was starting to get to you.

Stepping into the kitchen, you nearly spilled the rest of your cup when you saw who was standing in front of the fridge.

Steve Rogers - your chemistry lab partner who you had been pining over all semester. He was a gentleman through and through, which endeared you to him immediately and caused your small crush to snowball into a full blown panic to Wanda for a week straight when he saved you from scorching yourself on a Bunsen burner. The feeling of his massive hand wrapped around your wrist was ingrained in your brain forever.

He was sweet and charming and definitely not the type of guy you pictured ever being in a frat. You were about to high tail it out of the kitchen when he closed the refrigerator door and his eyes immediately landed on you.

“Y/N! Hey!” His smile was so wide, you could tell he was genuinely happy to see you. It made your heart constrict and you didn’t know if you hated it or not. “I didn’t know you would be here.”

“I didn’t either,” you laughed nervously. For some reason you could not gain your composure around this man. It was easier in the lab where you had one thing to talk about. Even when your conversations diverged to more personal topics, it could always be brought back to chemistry when you felt like you were about to make a fool of yourself. But there was no chemistry now, at least not in the practical sense. The explosion in your stomach when his large frame wrapped you in a hug had to be some kind of chemical reaction, you were sure.

“My roommate convinced me,” you continued. “I didn’t even know you were in a frat.”

“Oh yeah, my best friends kind of roped me into it our first year, and I guess I liked it enough to stick around.” That same moment, a tall man with bright eyes and a gapped smile came up on his right side, throwing an arm over his shoulder. “Speaking of, Y/N, this is Sam. The running partner I told you about.”

You laughed at that, while Sam playfully glared. “Hey, it’s not my fault you’re built like a superhuman or some shit. I can keep up with anyone else.”

“Anyways,” Sam said, obviously getting to the reason he came to find Steve in the first place. “We were about to play a drinking game, if you want to join.”

“Sure.” Steve turned to follow Sam who had begun to make his way out of the kitchen, and looked back at you expectantly. “You coming?”

You nodded, maybe a little too eagerly, and quickly filled up your cup from the punch bowl on the counter before shuffling through the throng of people in the living room to where Steve and Sam had disappeared up a flight of stairs.

When you stepped off the landing, you were met with a much smaller group of people than were downstairs, including Wanda who was perched on Vis’s lap. She jumped up at the sight of you, practically throwing herself at you, and you could smell the alcohol on her breath.

“Y/N! I’ve missed you!” Her eyes were a bit glassy, and you laughed as she smacked a kiss right on your lips before making her way back to Vision. “Come sit over here.”

She waved you over, but her and Vision were crammed on a loveseat with Steve, and there was no space for you to sit. Surveying the room, you realized there wasn’t anywhere else for you on any of the other couches either, and your best bet was a spot in the floor.

Steve, however, was not having any of that, and let you have his spot. He settled onto the floor with his back pressed against your legs and you had to take a moment to calm the erratic beating of your heart. You were thankful for the drinks coursing through your system, otherwise you may have bolted for the door. Instead, you boldly ran a hand through his hair like you wanted to so many times. When your sober brain finally caught up to your drunk actions, you nearly snatched your hand back, but you realized he was leaning into you more, so you stayed where you were.

“Sammy, what are we playing?” someone asked, and Sam stood up, dramatically turning to make sure everyone was looking at him.

“This is why he’s the president,” Steve muttered low enough for just you to hear it. “Always has to be the center of attention.”

You giggled at that, while Sam announced that you would be playing Never Have I Ever and explained the rules - whoever’s turn it was would say something they had never done before and whoever had done that thing would take a drink. 

“I’ll start,” Steve piped up. “Never have I ever tried to make wings out of cardboard and broken my leg falling off a roof.”

Everyone else laughed while Sam booed at that, but took a drink anyway. The game went in a circle with varying degrees of crudeness - anything from never have I ever kissed my best friend to never have I ever hooked up with a professor which you gasped at when Wanda slyly took a sip. 

“What?” she said, feigning innocence. “Professor Levinson is fine and you know it.”

Finally, Sam’s turn came around and you could tell by the shit eating grin on his face that he was gearing up to get back at Steve for singling him out.

“Never have I ever had a massive crush on my lab partner.”

You nearly choked, and with a glance down at Steve you could see every inch of visible skin spread with a fiery blush. Then, to your complete and utter surprise, he finished the last of his drink and threw the cup at Sam before getting up from the floor and quickly walking out of the room.

Wanda smacked your arm as you watched him leave, and basically shoved you to follow after him.

He was pacing the long hallway outside of the room you had previously been in, his hair pointed in a hundred different directions because he had obviously been running hands through it. 

When he turned and saw you, you didn’t even get a moment to speak before he was crowding you against the wall, his hands a bruising grip on your waist.

His warm breath fanned over your face and your heart was pounding so loud that you could barely hear yourself whisper, “What are you doing?”

“Same thing you are, I hope.”

At a loss for words, you simply nodded your head and suddenly his lips were encompassing yours, his hands roaming your body. You melted into him, right there in the middle of the hallway where anyone could see you.

You started to protest when he pulled away, but he laced his fingers with yours and tugged you down another hall, pushing you into what you assumed was his bedroom. 

His lips were back on yours the second the lock clicked, and before you knew it, clothes were shed and his body rested, warm and heavy, on top of you. He kissed a line down your jaw, across your collarbones, stopping to graze his teeth over one of your nipples, which caused your hips to buck up against his.

It was then you could feel just how big he was, and you audibly gasped.

His usual sweet demeanor was replaced with something different - confident and a little cocky - as he hovered over you.

“Y’okay, baby?” You couldn’t answer, a moan catching in your throat as his fingers glided through your folds, spreading the mess you had already made.

“Want you, Steve. Please.” Your vision went white as his fingers were replaced by the thick head of his cock, nudging you open inch by inch. When he was fully seated inside you, you arched your bed off the back only for him to press a hand to your chest, keeping you flat on the bed.

Between the fuzziness of the alcohol and the euphoria he was making you feel, time passed by in a blur of pleasure, until his erratic thrusts became still against you. You vaguely registered him pulling away, hearing a whine that had to come from you as the heat of his body left you. 

The last thing you remembered was a cool cloth between your legs and you were asleep before you could feel the pair of strong arms encircle your waist.

-

​​

The next morning brought a hangover and an unfamiliar bed.

The initial panic you felt was dispelled when you saw Steve’s sleeping face, only for it to come back full force when you realized it was Steve laying beside you. You wracked your brain, trying to piece together what had happened the night before.

You remembered a drinking game, Steve getting upset about something and you following him from the room, and then suddenly you were naked in his bed. There was a lot of disconnect, nothing quite making sense in the middle, and you quickly scrambled from his bed, trying to get out and figure out what happened before he woke up.

Unfortunately, your legs were tangled in his sheets and you ended up crashing to the floor, your shoulder throbbing to match your headache.

The sound of your body smacking the hardwood must have woken Steve up, because when you finally stood, all your clothes in your line of sight grasped in your hands, he was sitting up in bed looking at you.

You felt suddenly, embarrassingly naked, even with the memories from last night flashing in your mind. You just wished you could remember how it happened, but the only solid memories were those of his hands roaming your body, and unfortunately those weren’t answering any of your questions. 

After you had turned away from him and put your clothes back on - sans underwear, which you were sure he would find in the depths of his room at some point - you finally forced yourself towards the door.

As much as you wanted a recount of what happened, your pride won out, and you couldn’t stand another moment in this room, knowing you were likely just another notch on his frat boy belt.

Your mind screamed at you to stop and think for just a minute. This was Steve you were talking about - sweet, careful Steve, who followed you around the lab like a lost puppy and brought you coffee after particularly rough lectures, even when it made him late. This was Steve and yet your panicking brain couldn’t decipher the look on his face. You were so sure that it would lead to inevitable heartbreak that at the moment he opened his mouth, you bolted from the room without a glance back.

You heard him yell after you, then a thud that was probably him getting caught in his own sheets and crashing to the floor much like you had. You could also feel the eyes of the handful of frat members that watched you dart through the living room and out the front door.

Thankfully, yours and Wanda’s apartment was only a couple of blocks from the neighborhood where the row of fraternity houses were, so within ten minutes you were trudging up the steps and to your own front door.

Where you promptly realized you didn’t have your keys. Or your phone.

After banging on the door for a constant minute, Wanda finally swung it open, wearing nothing but a t-shirt that was not her own and looking very annoyed. Though her expression softened when she took in your puffy eyes, and you realized that you had been crying.

She wrapped an arm around you, guiding you towards your couch and tucking a throw blanket around you before she disappeared into her room. You heard low murmuring and a moment later, Vision emerged, giving you a quick wave before leaving.

You wiped at the fresh tears threatening to well over your lash line, and your best friend finally came back with a steaming mug of coffee, just how you liked it.

“What happened?” she asked, petting over your hair like she knew you loved. Wanda was so good at taking care of you; she had a natural instinct for knowing exactly what you needed, almost like she could read your mind.

You spilled the entire story to her, setting your cup on the table and curling up with your head in her lap. She listened to you recount the bits you remembered, then let you cry it out when you were done.

“Oh honey,” she whispered. “You don’t even remember the most important part?”

“What’s the most important part?”

She told you about the stretch of time you previously had no recollection of, though it was starting to all come together as she spoke. Sam’s obvious jab at Steve, the way he had drained his drink at the indirect mention of you, the longing glances all night you had failed to see, but Wanda caught every one.

“I’m such an idiot,” you wailed, burying your face in your hands as you sat up. You were mortified - here you had been convincing yourself that Steve had simply taken you to bed out of convenience, when you had it all wrong. And you had just left him without any explanation yourself.

“Only a little,” she teased, and you wanted a whole to open up and swallow you right then. You were going to have to drop out of your chemistry lab, and retake it next semester. Then you would have to reroute your walk to campus to ensure you never passed frat row. This was the end of your life as you knew it.

You were just about to tell Wanda all of this when a knock sounded at the door.

Almost like you knew who was on the other side, you stayed hunkered on the couch while Wanda got up to answer it, and not even a minute late Steve fucking Rogers stood in front of you, with your phone and keys clutched in his hand, fidgeting as if he didn’t know what to do with himself.

“You can sit. If you want,” you said, and he nodded before setting your stuff down and settling down next to you. He was close enough that your thighs could brush together if you moved even a hair, and it awakened some hope that you thought died when you left his bedroom that morning.

Wanda had wisely abandoned you, and the silence stretched until you both broke it with apologies tumbling over each other. 

“What are you sorry for?” you asked, clearly confused since you were the one that was a total moron.

“I just,” he stopped, running his hand down his face - in either exasperation or embarrassment - before he continued. “You were drunk, and I took advantage of that. I feel like an asshole and I know I don’t even deserve your forgiveness after that.”

A laugh escaped you; you couldn’t believe what a ridiculous pair you two made.

“Well I felt like an asshole for disappearing on you. And for assuming you just hooked up with me because I was there and not because you liked me.”

His cheeks flamed at your words and he started something along the lines of I would never before you cut him off.

“I know. Now, at least. Wanda filled in the things I couldn’t quite remember, and I feel awful.” You took a deep breath, contemplating your next words. “Speaking of, if you had stuck around long enough, you may have seen me take a drink, too. Though not one quite as dramatic as yours.”

Though his eyes widened in shock, a grin to match split across his face.

“Really?”

You nodded, moving on the couch so you were facing him, your knees brushing against his when he moved too.

“Can we agree that we’re both a little stupid? And forget last night?”

“Well,” he responded, cupping your face in his hands and running his thumbs along your cheekbones. “There are some things from last night that I will never be able to forget. But I do think a redo is in order.”

Your cheeks heated at the implication, but you leaned forward, breathing him in. When your nose bumped against his, your breath hitched. And the moment your lips met, it felt like the first time all over again.

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[fiction-box]

So I just noticed your most recent request (the Felix/Sylvain learning magic one). I was wondering if I could see the reverse? But like not taking place in the same story, if that makes sense. Like the reader (I'd prefer a male one) wanting to learn how to wield physical weapons to protect himself better so he asks Felix and/or Sylvain for help, maybe Ashe for bows as well cause he's a cinnamon roll

As stated in my rules, I only do two characters per request. From the way your ask is written, I prioritized Felix and Sylvain. If you like it, though, then please feel free to send in a separate ask for Ashe! I do this for time reasons and to spice things up (writing 3 fics back-to-back with the same concept without a break is a little draining.).

But aside from that, I'm glad you liked the other one! I have fallen in love with your concept just as much, but my goodness! This took me far longer to complete than I am happy to admit. I am aware that my main issue was synthesizing your request to a male reader, as I find them a little difficult to write for.

Regardless, I want you to love what I came up with! Requests are open, everyone, so don't be shy!

The stories will be continued under the cut.

Felix:

As you pushed open the doors to the training grounds, you weren’t surprised to find the expansive room was almost empty. The afternoon had turned to night, and most of your classmates were either wrapping up in the dining hall or preparing to rest.

Most of them.

"Training again, Felix?"

The blue-haired noble didn’t break his routine, cutting through the training dummies with the precision of a master. It wasn’t hard to admit that his skills were impressive for his age. Truly, the metal seemed to be a natural extension of his own arm.

"What?” he called, “Have you come to drag me elsewhere?"

"Actually, I was hoping I could spar with you."

At this, Felix dropped his sword arm to his side. He turned to you, raising a brow.

“Aren’t you usually preparing for bed at this time? You know that a quick skirmish isn’t going to chase me out of here any sooner, and I’m not about to waste my time with someone who isn’t at the top of their game.”

You let out a laugh, “Trust me, sleep is the last thing on my mind.”

It wasn’t quite true, you were definitely a little tired. Sleep wasn’t an option right now, though. You knew you needed to be here, but as soon as you entered the room, you forgot what you came for. That seemed to be happening a lot lately.

It has something to do with Felix, was all you remembered. Useful, as it meant you could keep him here until your memory returned. You hoped it would soon, lest you spend half the night with your feet on the ground.

“What are you waiting on, a map?” He began to move the practice dummy he had previously created a considerable dent in, “Go grab a weapon, unless you intend to fight with your fists.”

Migrating to the rack by the wall, you picked up an axe that looked as though it were in better condition than those around it.

Wrong. It has something to do with this. The axe is wrong.

Great. This was like trying to solve a puzzle whose final picture was blank. The answer was literally right in front of you, you could swear it! But then what were you meant to fight him with? A lance? You didn’t know how to use too many of the weapons within your line of sigh-

“You’ve been staring at that axe for about a minute now. Are you sure you’re not tired?”

Walking back towards him, your focus was entirely on the hatchet in your hand, “I swear, I’m not. I just…nevermind. Let’s do this.”

“Good, just don’t let it get in the way of our training,” the swordsman approached you, already pulling out a coin from his pocket.

“Oh don’t worry, you’re still getting your ass kicked. I call heads, by the way.”

The question in Felix’s eyes left him at your last remark. The coin was flipped, and sure enough, it landed on heads. You would be the first to attack, leaving Felix to begin in a defensive stance.

Both of you moved a few paces away from one another. The axe was familiar in your hands, but it felt wrong tonight as you placed your grip on the wooden base. This was an easy problem to overcome, you knew, as a simple feeling couldn’t detriment your performance too much. Still…

“Ready.” you nodded.

Felix echoed your confirmation once he had taken a more athletic pose, and the first bout began.

You charged forward, a plan in your head as you swung your axe over your head and down onto Felix. He leapt back, then changed his momentum towards you. The blade of his sword slashed once, then twice as you dodged backwards both times. The blade of your own weapon was still on the ground where it had landed earlier, your grip on the pole keeping it exactly where you wanted it to be.

Once more you rushed at him, only this time, you spun the blade 180 degrees on the floor and brought it up and forward. With your momentum charging the upsweep of the wooden blade, Felix didn’t have the time to dodge out of the way. It clipped him in the arm, where his shoulder was attached to it.

“Point,” he called.

Wordlessly, you walked past each other to switch positions. It was your turn to defend from his assault.

“Ready.”

“Ready.”

You didn’t have time to get a full breath in before Felix came forward. He copied your first movement, cutting downward as you chose to defend with the pole of your axe. Successfully blocking his attack, you pushed him back by thrusting the pole that had halted his sword outward.

Unfortunately, he caught his balance before you did. His fast impulse let him drive his sword forward into your chest. Your inability to lower your axe and reset into an athletic stance left you off your center.

His sword struck true, though you could sense he had let up enough of his momentum so as not to knock you over at its poke.

“Point,” you stated.

By the goddess, point you idiot!

Finally, you remembered! Bringing your hatchet with you back to the weapon rack, you exchanged it for a wooden sword hanging on the metal stand.

This did not go unnoticed by Felix.

“...”

“...something wro-?”

“Are you mocking me?” he questioned. The face of the future Duke had contorted into one of disgust.

“No, not at all! This is what was nagging me since I entered. I’m meant to take the certification exam for the Hero class in a few days, though I’m nowhere near ready. I know my way with an axe, but my skills with the sword could use some work. I’ve attended a couple of seminars, so I came here tonight in hopes of actually practicing,” you assured him.

“A smart idea. You can only learn so much without practical application,” he agreed. “You’re not going to get anywhere holding it like that, though.”

Swiftly, Felix closed the distance between you, “Hold your sword out.”

You did so, paying close attention as he adjusted your grip. It felt more natural already.

“Since your main weapon will be the axe, I doubt they’ll care too much about how you attack with it. Just as long as you can block, defend, and dodge effectively, you’ll pass. It takes a certain level of skill to do even that, though.”

“Right.”

He took a few steps back, and you immediately recognized his offensive pose, “I’ll take it easy on you these first few times; it’s more important that you work on applying your fundamentals, which you should have picked up from those seminars, than for you to adapt to countering my style. Ready when you are.”

“Alright. Ready.”

Most of the time, when he attacked, it was all about reading the angle of his sword and countering it appropriately. You were strong from your hatchet training, so sustaining the blocks was child's play. Switching the advantage came harder to you, though. To push back and then add a strike of your own was incredibly difficult while enforcing defenses.

It took a few rounds and a lot of bruises, but you eventually fell into better defensive habits with the sword. You were nowhere near Felix's level (even though you knew he was taking it easy on you, it felt like he was toying with you the whole time), but you found yourself much more assured in your base skillset.

"That's enough for tonight. It won’t do either of us any good if we keep sparring when we ought to sleep,” Felix commented, crossing the room and putting his wooden sword into a sheath that had been discarded on the ground.

A single, stark laugh left you, “Never thought I’d hear you of all people saying- Wait, that’s yours?”

“Is there a problem?”

“I just…didn’t think you’d have brought a wooden sword of all things.”

The swordsman raised a brow, then approached you, “Give me the one you’re holding.”

You did, easily. Then, when Felix took his own wooden blade from its casing, he held it out to you.

Taking it, a small wave of surprise washed over you once you realized it was weighted.

So this must be how he remained so agile when he used a real blade.

“What did I expect?” you traded weapons again. Then, you made your way to the rack on the wall to return your borrowed, glorified stick.

Sheathing it for the final time that night, Felix headed to the door while you were still messing around with fitting the sword back into its place.

Before he could leave, you made sure to call out to him. 

“Felix?” you watched his attention snap back to you. “Thanks. You know, for helping me figure this out.”

“Tch, we’ll need to work longer than just one night to fix all that.”

“Ouch. Feel free to lay it on gently, next time.”

“Then save your thanks for after you pass the exam. Besides, who said I was doing it just for you?” he turned to go once more, “Prepare yourself. When I’m done with you, you’ll be one hell of a training partner.”

The doors to the training grounds shut with a resounding echo. You sighed, finally fitting your sword onto the rack. Then, you walked the path back to your dorm.

But as your head made it to your pillow, sleep was hesitant to claim your racing thoughts. Felix’s last words to you were the promise of a trial by fire.

You hoped passing the exam would be worth the price of all the burns.

Sylvain:

“Hey, Sylvain. Mind if I borrow you for a sec?”

You dragged him away from his conversation, the two women he was talking to clearly having begun to turn hostile. You didn’t know what the philanderer had said to them, but you knew it wasn’t good if they were looking at him like that.

“Yeah, we might wanna go a little faster,” Sylvain recommended under his breath.

After some casual speed-walking, you both wound up outside the stables. Much to your chagrin, he actually seemed proud of himself. Some people just didn’t learn, you supposed.

“Thanks for getting me out of there. So, was there something you needed?”

“Yes, actually,” you chose to ignore that he believed you would pull him out of his own mess just to be nice, “I’m working on becoming a dark knight. I’ve got the magic part down, and I’m good enough at the equestrian portion to know I’ll pass. It’s the lance I really need help with.”

“So you came to me?” he laughed. “What, wouldn’t you rather have Dimitri or Ingrid training you? I’m no good-”

“Don’t even try it; you’re not worming your way out of this one. You’re far from last place in your lance skills and you know it. Besides, you owe me a favor.”

He raised a brow, “That still doesn’t explain why you chose me over Dimitri.”

“If it really matters that much to you, I can’t choose Dimitri. His crest supplies most of his strength, so I didn’t think he’d be the best fit for a teacher. Ingrid and Ashe would be okay, but they’re both out on a mission, right now.”

“So in other words, I'm your last pick.”

“Hey, I could’ve waited for them to return if I wanted. I’m in no rush to take the exam until I’m certain I’ll pass,” you countered.

“Then…I’m your first pick?”

You lowered your brows, “Get over yourself and help me.”

The two of you made your way down to the training grounds. On the way, Sylvain kept looking around as though he expected those two women to jump out at any moment.

“Relax. I doubt they’d go train of all things after that encounter. Your reputation might take a small hit, though.”

“You mean to suggest it’ll get worse than it already is?”

You conceded at that point. To tell the truth, you had no idea how Sylvain was still able to pick up women, what with the gossip and rumors attached to him.

Once the doors were shut behind you, Sylvain relaxed a bit more. He instructed you to grab a practice dummy and set it up in the middle of the area. However, once the job was done, the red-headed noble was nowhere to be seen.

I swear to the Goddess, if he ditched m-

A shout of surprise left your throat as you turned around to the sound of a loud thud behind you.

Sylvain laughed, “Woah, didn’t mean to scare you! Everything’s ready now.”

Looking to the ground, you identified a large wooden object in front of your training partner. It wasn’t there before, so it was probably what made the noise.

“Okay…?” you questioned, “What do we do with the battering ram?”

“Oh. That’s your new lance.”

That’s a funny joke. How the hell am I supposed to lift that thing?

You gave him a strange look, “You’re kidding, right?”

He stretched his arms out, resting them behind his neck, “Nope. That’s how my father made me train. He even got in contact with Rhea to make sure at least one of these would be here for me.”

“Seriously?”

You were beginning to have second thoughts about this whole thing, but you were the one that asked him for help. If he was willing to give it to you, you were taking it.

“Alright, then. What do I need to do?”

The Gautier heir picked up the ram with ease, walking over to the training dummy to demonstrate.

With him talking you through it, you pieced together that the plan was for you to stab with the ram, then swipe horizontally both ways before finally swiping vertically both ways. Each portion of the exercise was to be repeated twenty times.

“Go ahead, give it a try.”

Thudding on the ground once more when he set it down, the battering ram lied in wait as you approached it.

But even picking it up was a challenge. Both of your hands were on the same handle as you yanked upwards to no avail.

“Sylvain, there’s no way I can lift this.”

A huff of air left his nose in a chuckle, “Probably should’ve guessed that. No offense.”

“Don’t sweat it. That’s why I'm here, after all. Any other ideas?” you asked.

“No, no, this could work. Here, you take the back handle and I’ll hang onto the front.”

Together, you managed to lift it, though you were surprised at how much of the work you felt yourself doing.

Sylvain guided the direction of your swing while you did the actual movement. It was a pretty effective system, if you were in any position to say, and you could really feel it in your arms. Nonetheless, you refused to let up. The two of you went through the motions until all of the reps were finished. After your first set, however, a short break was in order.

“Of course, this won’t just be a one day thing. It’ll take a couple weekends to really get results. Feel free to let me know when you need help, and I’ll find time to make it down here to work with you,” he offered.

So it was. Over the next week, you both made it a habit to train with each other after lunch. Eventually, you were able to get through the routine without him. He would still be sure to make an appearance, but at this point, you weren’t exactly sure why.

Once you felt closer to ready, the two of you met up about three days before you were scheduled to take the exam. This time, Sylvain handed you one of the practice lances and instructed you to do the same exercise.

Immediately, you noticed an improvement. The motions were so much faster, and your hits had become so much stronger than before.

It seemed your “teacher” noticed it, too.

“Great, now let’s put it to some real use.”

Sylvain picked up a wooden lance of his own while you moved away from the training dummy.

“Go easy on me, yeah?” you laughed. “I’m not exactly used to this new strength, yet.”

“Don’t worry, my crest won’t activate during something like regular sparring.”

You noticed his defensive stance. He was prepared for you to attack.

Best not to keep him waiting.

Adjusting your grip, you made your way over to him. You moved your arm to act out a horizontal swiping motion, but you didn’t actually go through with it. Reading his backwards dodge easily, you didn’t let up on your charge until after he had caught his jump. Then, you used your momentum to poke forward.

“Agh-! Yup, that one’s definitely yours,” he grunted in suppressed pain, “My fault for anticipating, though.”

“You good to go again, or…?”

Sylvain plastered on a grin, “Nah, I’ll be fine. I can handle a little bruise.”

If he didn’t want to do anything about it, you certainly weren’t going to force him anywhere. Round two it was.

This time, you both went back and forth for a bit until the poles of your lances were locked in a stalemate. You were so focused that you didn’t notice Sylvain stick his leg out until he had swept your feet from beneath you.

Thinking fast (as mages always did to avoid getting hit), you used the energy of falling to create the momentum that allowed you to roll away from him. Getting up fast was going to be the key to winning this bout.

Not a second too soon, you were on your feet and swinging your lace around your body until it halted just before hitting Sylvain’s side, who was still running toward you. He noticed immediately and stopped his advance.

“That’s your point, too. A bit unconventional, and I have no idea how you’ll recreate that on a test…”

“Well there’s no way I can control what happens on the test, right? If it’s just sparring, then sparring practice is the best I can do.”

“Can’t argue with that,” Sylvain said matter-of-factly. “One more, or should we call it a day?”

You recalled how you jabbed at him square in the chest during your first bout, and then how you just barely managed to avoid hitting him in the second.

“I’m good,” you nodded. “I’m a bit tired today. Besides, there’s always tomorrow.”

“Sure. Well then, see you here again tomorrow.”

He left you behind to clean everything up, but you didn’t blame him. He probably would have given away how bad his injury was if he tried to bend over anyway. Classic Sylvain, who could never manage to fool anyone but himself.

Placing the lances back where they were meant to be stored, your thoughts turned to the future. The exam that had once felt like a huge barrier now looked merely like a step on a staircase. You knew you had Sylvain to thank for that.

Maybe you’d get to it eventually, but for now, you’d stick to showing your thanks in other ways. Whether he noticed it or not.

[captains-simp]

Can I get a request where Yelena's dating R and has been for a while because things are going great but Natasha (being the protective big sister she is) realllllyyyy doesn't like R and R keeps making things worse because Nat intimidates her and all bdaksnakwk😭 and she finally accepts R when she gets caught up in a mission somehow and almost dies for Yelena🥺

Nat simps: Nat doesn't like the relationship because she's jealous

Me: n-no

Nat simps: she actually loves R😃

Me: guys no-

Nat simps: but-

Me: N O

(You guys are getting a big Natasha fic after this, calm your tits🙄)

3.6k words

Warnings: graphic injury description, implied torture and murder

[ masterlist ]

Buy me a coffee ☕

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

"My sister does not hate you." Yelena chuckled as she opened the car door and stepped out. You stayed put for a second, staring up at the Avenger's tower as you chewed your lower lip.

"She definitely does." You mumbled as you stepped out of the car yourself. Yelena held her hand out for you to take, marginally helping your nerves when she gave it a reassuring squeeze. She noticed your silence and tried again.

"Okay maybe she's not your biggest fan right now but she'll warm up to you. I did." The blonde winked. You bit back a smile and rolled your eyes. "The others sure as hell love you." You hummed in response, you couldn't argue with that. You got on with the other heroes like a house on fire. "And I love you." Yelena said earnestly as you stopped outside the main door for your girlfriend to plant a soft, quick, kiss on your lips.

"I love you too." You said with a smile.

"There she is." She grinned back as she stroked your cheek with her index finger. "Now come on, I'm starving."

"You ate that bag of M&Ms in the car." You laughed as Yelena led you through the building. The blonde scoffed.

"They only half fill them, y/n." She complained. "So it was half a bag." It was hard to argue with that logic. 

You made your way through to the top floor of the building, all while holding onto the expensive wine bottle you bought. Your hands were sweating so much so you held onto the bottle with both hands, not trusting your grip. The last thing you needed was to smash it on any of Tony's expensive carpets. You were met with a round of laughter when the elevator doors opened, presenting the Avengers all sat around the living area. Their eyes turned to you and Yelena with wide smiles and they all shouted hellos across the room. Wanda gave you a warm hug as Yelena high fived Bucky and you felt your nerves soften. 

"She's just finishing up." Wanda said knowingly. You wondered for a brief second if she had taken a peek into your mind but when you looked at the redhead she was smiling reassuringly at you and you realized it must have been obvious that you were anxious to see her again. Unlike Yelena, everyone else could tell you were Natasha's least favourite person. "For what it's worth she seems to be in a pretty good mood tonight." Wanda assured.

"Whose in a pretty good mood tonight?" Came the voice you had been dreading to hear. Natasha strolled into the living room with a content smile on her face but halted in her tracks once she saw you. You locked eyes for longer than you were comfortable with but you were determined not to look away. Sometimes you thought that if you asserted yourself more then maybe Natasha would at least respect you. Today wasn't the day for that because you looked away quicker than you would have hoped to. In your defence, it was really hard to maintain eye contact with the Black Widow. 

"What's she doing here?" Natasha spat. Oh. You winced as you rubbed the back of your neck, clearly the Russian wasn't aware that you were attending the dinner too. 

"I told you she was coming." Yelena said as she strolled towards her sister and gave her a bear hug. Natasha continued to glare at you from over her sister's shoulder. 

"I thought you were meant to be on a mission."

"Luckily it was over by lunch." You smiled weakly. "Meant there was still brownie left in the cafeteria." You laughed awkwardly but Natasha didn't respond. 

"If you want, I could give you the recipe for my brownies." Wanda said in an attempt to ease the overwhelming tension in the room. The Sokovian was always the best at that and you were sure it was entirely down to her calm demeanour.

"Really?" You asked hopefully as you all made your way to the dinner table. You avoided Natasha's eyes the whole time but consequently ended up taking a seat opposite her. You froze when you sat down, already under her heated gaze once again. You gulped thickly and turned to Yelena while you tried to ignore the pair of emerald eyes burning holes into the side of your head.

The rest of the dinner wasn't altogether awkward but it wasn't the most comfortable you'd ever been. Natasha didn't acknowledge you, though it was rare that she did, and you both engaged in separate conversations with the rest of the team. You had never known if there was a particular reason the redhead didn't like you. You guessed it was down to her being protective of her little sister, something you could understand given all they had been through. But you would never hurt your girlfriend, in fact you would do anything to avoid that. So it bothered you that there was nothing you could do to sway Natasha's opinion of you, because you had literally tried everything. You had been dating her sister for six months. Surely if she was going to accept you it would have happened already. 

When dinner was finished Natasha excused herself as Yelena picked up some plates and took them to the kitchen. You were hooked on a story Sam was telling when they left, both your elbows on the table as your face rested in your hands, eagerly waiting for Sam to reveal how he was able to escape a whole squadron of planes with a malfunctioning suit. As a S.H.I.E.L.D agent, you didn’t get to experience half the things the Avengers did. Sure, you had had some crazy missions and your fair share of close calls, but their stories always won. 

Once Sam dramatically finished his story with some over the top sound effects, you noticed Yelena had missed a few plates and still wasn’t back. With the dishes in your hands, you made your way to the kitchen, soon hearing the strong accent of your girlfriend. “You're being unfair.” She scolded with a hushed aggression. 

“I’m trying to protect you, Lena.” Natasha’s voice fired back. Your ears pricked up at the verb and you were unsure of whether or not to leave the plates on a near table and go or stay to hear about the apparent threat your girlfriend was facing. “She’s going to get herself killed.”

“Oh and you’ve never done something reckless?” Reckless. That was a word you had seen in your S.H.I.E.L.D assessment reports enough times to get a vague idea of who the pair were talking about. Natasha being on the opposing side proved the point more. “When will you drop this?”

“You couldn’t have just dated a normal civilian? Or at least an agent that manages to not get themselves in harm's way on the way to the paper copier.” Well that was hardly accurate. S.H.I.E.L.D didn’t use paper copiers. 

“You know maybe if you spent less time being a bitch to her and more time actually getting to know her you would understand why I love her.” Yelena said in a more disappointed tone, most of the frustration drained away from exhaustion. You wondered how long they had been talking about this. Or if they had before. Yelena always acted like there wasn’t any tension between you and her sister. Maybe she thought if she ignored it things would sort themselves out. 

There was a heavy silence over the room so with a pang of guilt, you stepped out from behind the wall with the plates still in your hands, fauxing mild surprise when you saw them both, like you didn’t even know they were still there. If they saw through your act, they didn’t say anything. “Thanks, just put them there.” The blonde smiled and pointed at the counter near her. Natasha stayed silent as she watched you from the other side of the room. It always felt like she was studying you for any sign of a weakness when she looked at you, waiting to spot something she could use to strike. 

“You need a hand?” You asked as you spied the excessive bubbles in the sink that coaxed your girlfriend’s forearms. “Before you break something.” You joked and watched as Yelena’s cheeks tinted pink as she remembered the shattered glass in the bin at home. 

“She’s capable.” Natasha interrupted with stone cold glare. 

“That’s okay, detka (babe).” Yelena mumbled and kissed your cheek. “I’m just finishing up.” She said before looking briefly at her sister. “Then we’re going.”

*

To no surprise of your own, Natasha didn’t get any friendly towards you after what you could only assume wasn’t the first discussion the sister’s had had about you. In fact it got considerably worse; not straight away though, that came a few weeks after when the pair came rushing into the cafeteria. Yelena marched in the room with her eyes set on you as the redhead followed by her side, exclaiming something wildly with her hands. 

“This is insane. Yelena!” Unfortunately for Natasha, her sister’s stubbornness fiercely rivaled her own. 

“Hey, detka.” Yelena smiled as she sat down on the seat in front of you. You gave a small wave as you finished chewing your sandwich, eyeing the pair cautiously. Natasha continued to stand with her arms crossed, mumbling under her breath in Russian. “You busy now?” 

“Not really.” You shrugged and brushed the crumbs off your hands.

“Yelena, no.”

“Zamolchi (shut up)!” The blonde fired back. “That’s great,I could really use a hand on a mission.”

“I will go with you.” Natasha insisted but Yelena shooed her away distractedly. “They know who you are, it won’t work.” She hissed.

“That’s why disguises exist!” Natasha yelled, gaining the attention of every other S.H.I.E.L.D agent in the room. 

“It won’t work.” Your girlfriend said firmly, her choice was already made and set in stone. 

“Okay.” You shrugged and immediately fell under Natasha’s most heated glare. 

“Don’t you dare.” She gritted. “There are thousands of agents in this base alone and you’re picking the single most reckless one who will get you killed.” The redhead continued but Yelena, unlike you, wasn’t fazed. 

“Great, go pack your stuff.” Yelena cheered.

“Right now?”

“Yeah.”

“Don’t fucking move.” Your body betrayed you, keeping you glued to your seat in fear of what method, of the hundreds the widow knew, she would choose to kill you if you stood up. 

“I don’t trust anyone else to do this.” Yelena said earnestly to her sister. Natasha considered her sister carefully but still looked unconvinced when her younger sister gave a frustrated huff and took you by the hand to drag you to your feet and past her sister who surprisingly didn’t follow after you both. 

As your girlfriend led you down the halls she explained the basis of the mission, telling you how you were to set up a last minute buy with a high profile weapons smuggler. Annoyingly, that was how he worked, telling buyers the location and time of a deal at the last minute. Beneficially, he was a smug prick who only believed in carrying out deals on his own. While he would be armed, there would be no one else with him, making yours and Yelena’s job easier. Yelena was the sniper, shooting to kill. S.H.I.E.L.D had tried apprehending the guy alive but it always ended in casualties and they were finally done with going easy. 

You considered it all when you were changing into the outfit Yelena had given you, planning what exactly you could say to the dealer to get him to the specific part of the warehouse that Yelena could shoot at. You were buttoning up your white blouse when the door swung open and Natasha stepped through. “You sure you can handle this?” She asked right off the bat. 

“I’ve been through my training just like everyone else here, Natasha. I know you don’t think I’m capable but I’ve been on my fair share of missions and I know protocol and-”

“Just keep her safe.” The Russian said. You blinked and opened your mouth to speak but couldn’t find the words.

“I don’t care if Baros comes out of there in a body bag or in a limo.” You blinked again and continued with your shirt as you decided to just listen to Natasha. “But if one hair on Yelena’s head is harmed I will make you live to regret it for the remainder of your long and very painful days.” She said darkly and you could only nod dumbly. Natasha studied you for a long moment before turning around to head out of the room far less dramatically as she had entered. 

“She trusts me for a reason.” You couldn’t help but call out as the redhead opened the door. She glanced at you for a second and left as she called over her shoulder to you. 

“I don’t.”

*

“Do you want to get take out tonight? I was thinking that new Chinese place around the corner.” Yelena spoke clearly but she might as well have been thinking aloud because you couldn’t respond. She knew that of course. She knew that you speaking would ruin your cover if Baros had cameras set up around you. “So that’s a yes on the Chinese?” She continued. Okay she was definitely doing it because she knew you couldn’t respond. “Detka there’s no need for you to insist on paying. I owe you one right now.” You bit back a smile until the warehouse doors opened and Baros stepped through, watching you eagerly. 

“So nice of you to join me.” You deadpanned. You couldn’t help it. The guy literally chose the time and he was still half an hour late.

“Yes, my apologies.” Baros said in a very unapologetic tone. “Something came up.” He muttered as he placed a large box on the table and unlocked it with an 8 digit code although you were sure there was a lot more to it than that. Not that you cared about his weapons right now. “Now I hear I have something you’re interested in.” 

With that, the sale began. At first you thought you were in luck. Baros made a habit of strolling around the room as he explained various weapons that you pretended to be interested in, but he never went to the spot Yelena could shoot. It became irritating very quickly. You walked around too in an attempt to lead him to wear you needed him but he always backed off at the last second. You heard Yelena groan into the earpiece a few times too. 

“Is there anything here that’s of interest to you? Or are you more concerned with listening to whoever’s on the other end of that earpiece?” Your eyes snapped to Baros as he watched you curiously. “Where is she?” He asked coldly. Your earpiece wasn’t meant to be visible and the thought that Baros had found a way to get around S.H.I.E.L.D’s technology concerned you greatly. 

“I don’t know who you’re talking about, I’m here alone.” You swallowed thickly. Baros gave a throaty laugh in response, some primal hunting impulse starting up. 

“I’ve killed every S.H.I.E.L.D agent that has come after me, you and your friend will be no different. Now where is she?”

You wanted to charge at Baros. To knock him to the ground and wrap your hands tightly around his throat and squeeze long and tight enough to make him regret ever threatening your girlfriend. Except you couldn’t move. It wasn’t a fear induced freeze up like you had gotten from Natasha’s glares a few times. There was a much larger and more dangerous obstacle that stopped you moving. Something toxic. Baros gave another manic laugh as he watched that realisation dawn on you. But really, what was panicking you most was that Yelena had been silent for a long time. 

“You see, Agent l/n, while you were trying your hardest to get me to play your game, I was beating you at my own. I’ve grown immune to the toxin that’s been circulating the room since your arrival.” You trembled as you dropped to your knees and fell onto your side, only able to watch and listen. “And what your friend sees is a mere projection of us continuing business, audio included of course, so she won’t be coming to get you anytime soon.” You exhaled as heavily as you could in relief at the knowledge that Yelena was safe.

“Now where were we?” Baros asked as he knelt down besides you and lifted your head up, placing the flat of a blade against your cheek. “Oh yes, you were just about to tell me about the other one.”

“Go...to...hell.” You grimace, every word spoken feeling like one of the hardest things you had ever done. 

“I’m sure you’ll feel as though you’re there very shortly.” He muttered as the knife very slowly started to dig into your skin.

*

You had no idea how long you were with Baros, how long since he had first started slicing your skin, how long your bones had been broken or even how long since you had first started to cough up blood, most of it staying in your mouth because of your weak diaphragm. You had exceeded your limit long ago, only using your energy to make the occasional snarky comment that made the next attack harsher. You couldn’t seem to stop yourself. It made you feel like you had some control, as did the fact that you never said a word about Yelena.

A gargled scream was ripped from you when Baros pressed the burning hot knife against your latest stab wound, cauterising it to stop you bleeding out and keep you alive for as long as he needed you. A sickening smile crept onto his lips as he watched your eyes fill with tears once again and leant back once he was done. Much to your long awaited relief, that smile was wiped from his face when a spray of red erupted in front of you, shortly followed by Baros dropping to the ground next to you, dead on the spot he had accidentally stood in. 

You didn’t trust your relief, you didn’t trust yourself not to be hallucinated after the endless hours of torture, even when a heavily armed S.H.I.E.L.D team flooded into the room. A few gathered around you, asking questions you couldn’t quite understand as bright white lights filled your vision. Then you were being lifted into the air, not aware of the fabric of the stretcher beneath you until the back of your hand dropped onto it. You managed a small trace of a smile before you passed out. 

*

There was an arm draped across your stomach when you woke up. It was the first thing you felt, a fact that you were extremely grateful for. You blinked frantically a few times before you turned to look at your girlfriend sleeping by your side on the hospital bed. You smiled at the sight of her peaceful form and tucked some stray hairs behind her ear softly, careful not to wake her. You were glad you cherished that moment of peace and relief, because it wasn’t long before you had more company.

You took your hand away from Yelena’s face when Natasha walked in, settling to keep it by your side, although there was nothing you could do about the arm that was squished between yours and your girlfriend’s body. “I tried my best-” you started but Natasha shook her head. 

“You...you did great, y/n.” You smiled sheepishly, sure there were some drugs in your system. “No one could have done any better.” She said as her eyes flickered to the cuts on your face. “So thank you.”

“It was no trouble at all.” You shrugged. Natasha rolled her eyes but smiled faintly, something you never thought you would see directed at you. “I’d never let anything happen to her.” You said honestly. The redhead nodded as she looked at her sister.

“I know that now. I was just scared, I can’t loose her again and you have to admit you’re not the most reliable person on the planet.” You blushed and looked away. “But I trust you now and I’m sorry I doubted you.” She apologised sincerely.

“No harm, no foul.” You joked again, truly not knowing how you were meant to act around the Russian now that you were finally in her good books.

“Don’t make me regret this.” Natasha warned with a smirk. You chuckled lightly and watched as she made to leave. “You should get some rest.” She advised and you nodded but frowned when she was nearly out the door.

“How’d she know?” You asked, making Natasha turn back to you with a quirk of her brow. “That something wasn’t right.” The redhead smiled and shook her head.

“You hadn’t made a smart ass comment in ten minutes.”

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

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[helliontherapscallion]

pspspsp can I just request an immortal reader who's life is just dull/sad as hell since they've seen their loved ones leave or die in front of them so many times

but when they meet SBI or anyone, their life just suddenly brightens up? (Platonic and it can be any type of fic!)

(A/N): I got waaaayy too carried away with this. Star god reader my beloved (also, I’d imagine that your cloak looks like this guy’s but on the inside with the outsides being any color of your choice (credit goes to original artist))

If you want more god!reader content with the dream smp, @wooloo-inc has a really good series about a male!nature god!reader (aka, the god of dilf collection)

In the beginning when DreamXD created you (which if you think about it, that makes him your father, but I digress) from stardust and meteorite shards, you were a ball of fun loving sunshine (well, starshine?)

You loved watching over all of humankind, admiring their determination and bonds with other humans (both romantic and platonic)

Your older brother, the god of the moon, told you about how they viewed you and you were amazed

“Oberon?” You ran up to your older brother and tugged on his cloak making him hum in question, not looking up from his parchment scroll. “What- what do the humans think of me?”

He scoffed and glanced at you with his lily white irises, “why are you on about them again? They are lowly creatures compared to us, filled with greed and misfortune.”

“They worship us and that’s how you speak of them?”

“(Y/n) believe me, you have not seen the brutality they are capable of. War, famine, greed, plague, genocide, it’s all something you have not witnessed before. You have only seen the good in those things.” 

“But Oberon, I wanna-” he lightly smacked the side of your head, “use proper English. We are gods and you will behave as such.”

You huffed, “I want to know about how they view us! I do not care about the bad things they have done! Plleeeaaassseeeeeee Beri?” You willed the stars that constantly gleamed in your eyes to shine brighter as you fluttered your eyelashes at him. He may seem like he hated everyone and everything (especially his siblings), but he had a soft spot for his youngest sibling. He just stared at you for a bit before he sighed and shifted in the massive throne so that you could hop up onto his lap. With a wave of a slender pale hand, he conjured up various images of humans with stardust gazing at the stars and the moon with carefree swipes of his hand. 

“They view us as… poetic of sorts. They compare us to romance,” an image of two human males kissing then gazing into the stars laying down on a cliff came into view, “fortune tellers,” an image of the Aquarius and the Capricorn constellations popped up making you squeal in happiness. He chucked and changed the picture to a mother and son standing over a grave looking up in amazement at a shooting star, “and most importantly, as a sign of hope. 

“They see us as complementary, the moon and the stars cannot be as beautiful without the other. We hold the power of the night and everything it touches, (y/n). This is our kingdom, do not forget that,” the image changed to the moon surrounded by stars and swirling blues and purples of nebulas.

You looked at the images with awe, absorbing every word that fell from his mouth. “Beri?” He once again hummed, his deep baritone voice sending vibrations along your back. “Will we be together forever?”

His lanky arms wrapped around your much smaller frame, “for all of eternity. The moon is nothing without the night sky and all of the stars it holds.”

Centuries passed and your fascination with humans only grew from there

When you eventually asked if you could meet a human Oberon reacted angrily and forbade you from speaking of humans again in your shared palace, worried for your safety

When he caught you attempting to sneak out, he locked you in your room for months on end

Humans wondered why the stars hardly appeared in the night sky anymore, forming the theory that they had somehow angered you

They prayed to you more and more, begging and groveling for forgiveness

They left more offerings at shrines

You heard their every word, feeling your heartbreak with sorrow and guilt for your lovely humans

You snuck out of the palace that night determined to make it up to the humans

You quietly snuck past the main room where you and Oberon used to sit on your thrones together and control the night. The large doors were cracked open showing your older brother watching the night with boredom. As you passed, his voice startled you, “I just cannot stop you can I?”

He appeared in the doorframe looking at you emotionlessly, his eyes glinting with hidden pain. “Do you realize how cruel of a place that world is? How cruel humans are?”

“I do not care, brother! They are in anguish because they think I am angry with them! Because you locked me in here!”

“I have told you time and time again, they are ruthless creatures. Humans are constantly clashing with their own kind for the slightest bit of power, they’re greedy creatures! Have you forgotten what happened to Arachnia?”

A shiver went down your spine at the mention of your fellow deity. She wanted to be with humans but they stripped her of her grace and virtuosity, torturing her when the moon would rise. That is the reason spiders attack humans in the night when the moon and stars show themselves and are dormant in the daytime. However, that did not deter you. 

“I have not forgotten what happened to Arachnia, her tale fills me with grief. But not all humans are like that! They are compassionate, loving, and sweet creatures deep down, each and every single one of them!”

“They were not showing compassion or love when they tore Arachnia limb from limb! When they languish in riches while millions die around them! What part of that is compassionate?”

“Sure they do bad things sometimes, but have you forgotten the love they hold for each other? The determination and hope shining from within them when they pray to us? Have you forgotten that?”

“THEIR ACTIONS ARE NOT JUSTIFIED IN ANY WAY!”

“AND OURS ARE? YOU ARE BLIND, OBERON. HAVE YOU FORGOTTEN THE CRUELTY THE GODS HAVE SUBJECTED HUMANS TO? WHEN OUR FATHER TOOK YEARS AWAY FROM THEIR LIFESPANS SOLELY BECAUSE THEY STOPPED WORSHIPPING HIM AS OFTEN AS THEY USED TO? WHAT PART OF THAT IS JUSTIFIED?” 

He just stared at you with angry irises and his chest heaving before he ran a hand through his long ivory hair and turned around, the flowing white cape flowing wildly behind him with unseen air. He walked back into the observation room and back to his throne. Without a second glance to you, he worked on the transition of power between the sun and moon. You could imagine your sister Aelia grinning brightly as she rose the sun for the day.

“You are to never return here if you step foot out that door. You will still have control of your duties of the night. However you will never return. Do not come back groveling for forgiveness when I have given you constant warnings of their cruelty. If I see your face show up here, I will make sure father smites you down. Now get out of my sight.”

You huffed and whipped around to the front entrance, the stars that constantly twinkled and the nebulas that constantly swirled in the inside of your cloak illuminating the white floors below you as you ran. You left the palace without a second thought, leaving your old life behind in favor of spending it with the humans.

When you came crashing to the Earth in a shooting star, you were amazed by the beauty of it up close and in person

It was everything you expected and then some

You heard the humans cheering and thanking you in their prayers when the stars returned brighter than usual

You being completely enamoured by all of the humans, even if they recognized you or not you loved them all unconditionally

You set up a little cottage in the tundra where you could see the night sky clearly with the occasional aurora borealis 

From the roof, you controlled the stars

The tales of you defecting from the heavens was a popular one, and you became somewhat of a symbol of the hope that humanity should hold for themselves and compassion

Occasionally sending shooting stars over humans you knew were stargazing

You have met many lovers, friends, and even your own adopted kids over the next millenia, all of them accepting your immortality and everlasting duties

But it’s all the same in the end: they come, they leave, and they die

With each death of your loved ones, you could feel your will to keep going dissipate

The stars grew dimmer gradually in the night sky

The humans gradually stopped worshipping you as you disappeared from the night skies

You became a distant memory for elders to tell children 

Disappearing from the face of the Earth for a few centuries when you could not take the constant deaths any longer

Nobody knew where your cabin laid so you were undisturbed for centuries on end, left to your grief

That was until a knock sounded at your door

The knock startled you out of the comfort of your bed. Reluctantly, you left the warmth of the multitude of blankets and donned your cloak to hide your unkempt appearance. When you passed the mirror hanging in the hallway, you could see that your face was shrouded by darkness with the exception of a single glint where your eyes were caused by the lone star that was a constant reminder of your position. Before you fell into a deep depression, the stars would illuminate your entire face if you put your hood up. 

You opened the front door without a care in the world. If the beings on the other side were humans that would take you away and torture you, you didn’t care. You’re long past the point of caring for your own well being.

On the other side was a man of average height and long shaggy blond hair pulled into a slick ponytail. He was dressed entirely in green with a green and white striped bucket hat placed on his head. Past you would’ve been cooing at the object, but now you dully looked at the man in front of you. You glanced behind him and your eyes widened at the huge black wings sprouting from his back. You know who he was the second your eye caught the black feathers; he was the Angel of Death.

“Hello, Angel of Death.”

He tried to peer into your shrouded features, only seeing two pinpricks of light where your eyes should be. He gave you a friendly smile, brushing off the snow that gathered on his shoulders. “(Y/n), the God of the Stars and the Night Sky. Giver of compassion to the human race, it’s an honor to meet you.”

“Why are you here? Last time I checked, my last lover died centuries ago.”

“Yes, my condolences. They were lovely when I guided their soul to the afterlife.”

“You still have not answered my question, Angel of Death. Why are you here?” You grit out the last sentence through a clenched jaw. He has no right to talk about them when he assisted in taking them away from you. Him and your cousin, the Goddess of Death Kristin. They took everybody you loved away from you. You knew that their deaths were unavoidable since they were human and you were immortal, but you still couldn’t help but resent them.

“The Goddess of Death sent me. The God of the Moon and the Goddess of the Sun sent her a request to send me to check on you.”

You stared at him for a few moments before you saw him shivering slightly and sighed. You always had a soft spot for humans, even if the being in front of you was not a human in the slightest. He reminded you of an old friend. You stepped aside and gestured lazily inside the house, “come in.”

He started to visit more and more over the next century

He eventually befriended you about half a century into the visits

It was extremely difficult to do because of how guarded you were, but he managed to break you out of your shell

You realizing how kind he was and how much he cared for you

You quickly came to the realization that he was immortal as well after reading up on the Angel of Death

After another fifty years, he became your best friend

You both opened up and comforted each other about everybody you both lost over the years

When he adopted Technoblade and then Wilbur not long after Techno, you were extremely hesitant to get close to them

Even going as far as telling Philza that you thought that it was an extremely bad idea

Mortals always end up leaving in the end anyways, it’s best to avoid the endless cycle of hurt that came with having mortals around

You told him about your own adopted children that have died over the years

You refuse to meet them, cutting off all communication with Philza for a year or two

Eventually meeting his three adopted kids when you reluctantly accept a dinner invitation one day

You attempted to appear cold and uncaring, but your love for humans (especially baby humans) shone through when an infant Tommy started to play with your cape

It seemed that the stars and the moving nebulas within the fabric entranced him

From then on whenever you visited Philza, you always held Tommy until he was too old for you to do so

Becoming very attached to the blond with your strong innate parental instincts

You introduce Techno to mythology, sharing stories of your personal interactions with certain gods and entities throughout the years

You teach Techno how to cope with the voices as you constantly hear multiple prayers to you from humans at the same time

You arrange a meeting for Wilbur with the Goddess of Music when he asks you about her

Arranging for her to start giving him lessons in exchange of a favor that will be cashed at a later date

You help raise all three of them, often taking them off Philza’s hands for a night or two 

Their favorite activity with you is watching you raise the stars and turn the sky dark

They always loved to watch you move the stars and summon shooting stars for them

The stars gradually returned to your eyes and a constant ecstatic smile slowly became synonymous with your face again

Humans started to worship you again when the stars in the sky became brighter

You became your old self again after centuries of feeling lost 

To repay them for everything they’ve done for you, you decided to rearrange the stars for one night 

One night of having a different star pattern couldn’t hurt 

Sure, it’d make a few theories pop up among the humans, but those are fun to overhear sometimes

The young boys and Philza behind you watched in awe as your eyes started to glow brightly and you slowly moved your hands gracefully raising the stars with the moon, your cloak starting to flow with nonexistent winds. They’ve seen you raise the stars thousands of times, but it never ceases to amaze them. It was just so… entrancing. 

You broke into a slight sweat and started to move the stars from their original positions in the sky. Shaking slightly, you pushed back against the strain and slight pain that it brought you. You’ve never done this before, so you really didn’t know what you were expecting. You felt someone put a hand on your shoulder.

“What’re you doin, mate?”

“Uh Dad?”

“Not now Techno. Mate, are you alright?”

“Dad, look up. They’re rearranging the stars,” Wilbur breathed out.

You could hear Philza gasp slightly as he watched star after star move until they locked into place. There in the twinkling night sky was each of their names gleaming brightly in small lettering. When you were done, you fell into a kneel onto the ground and rubbed at your aching head panting lightly. 

You could hear the boys around you panic slightly as you regained your breath. As you heard them approach you you looked up at them and smiled, the stars gleaming brightly in your irises. “Do you like it?”

“Y-yes but gods, (y/n) are you alright?”

“I am fine, but stars, I have never done that before. Are you four ready for stargazing?”

“That was so pog, (y/n)! How’d you do that?”

“I hold the power of the stars and the night sky in my hands. My brother once told me that the night is our kingdom.” You laid down onto the grass and took off your cloak to cover up a shivering Tommy and Wilbur next to you. You sighed as you thought about your siblings; you wondered how they were doing. 

“I will gladly move the stars themselves for you four. You are my family.” There was a stretched out moment of comfortable silence as you five watched shooting stars blaze by. Eventually, you saw an aurora borealis materialize above you. Furrowing your brow, you looked at it in question. They don’t appear this time of year, so why-

“Aelia,” you breathed out as you watched the greens flow above you. She must’ve sent a gust of solar wind your way. 

“Isn’t Aelia the Goddess of the Sun?” Wilbur asked you.

“Yes, she is my oldest sister. She must have redirected the solar winds over here.” 

“Damn, what’s with the gods changing everything tonight? You guys need to fuckin chill.”

“Tommy!” Philza scolded and was about to continue before he heard you start to laugh. They’ve only heard you genuinely laugh only a couple of times, so the sound that left your mouth immediately brightened the mood. 

“Yes Tommy, I suppose we do need to ‘fucking chill’.”

“You swore! Fuckin pog,” Tommy cheered to himself as the others looked at you in slight shock at your words. If you’re being completely honest in all of the years you spent alive (which is since basically the beginning of time), you’ve never sworn once. You were raised differently than that. When you realized that the others were staring at you, you smirked at them. The stars twinkling and giving your eyes even more of a mischievous glint, “what? Have you never heard a god swear before?”

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[slasherhaven]

hi!!

can I request hcs about a reader who is on a trip with her s/o and her best friend, and ends up defending Thomas from a group of other travelers, and ends up probably getting like punched in the face for him.

they have car trouble, and are allowed to stay at the Hewitt household for the night, (solely because reader took a punch head on, and still continued to defend Thomas) only for reader to discover that her s/o is railing her best friend, and u know that that means— death for them, and now Thomas gets to keep reader.

Thomas Hewitt X Reader

Warnings: cheating, mentions of blood

Disruptive:

This road trip had been being planned for the last couple of months, the three of you planning on travelling the states, hitting the more rural areas and not just the main tourist destinations. It was supposed to be a an opportunity to get away from everything just for a while.

The plan was in the works for a couple of months, so how hadn't any of you thought to plan ahead if the car broke down?

Ian, your boyfriend, had his head under the hood of the car while you and Cecilia, your best friend since childhood, stood by the edge of the road. Ready to wave down a car if one drove by, but none came. You hadn't seen another car for at least two hours now. You must have hit a very isolated part of Texas.

"Well, I think a professional need to take a look at this" Ian sighed as he closed the hood. "I think there's a gas station a little further down the road, maybe they know somebody who could help" he informed you.

Not wanting to leave your car full of your belongings on the side of the road, you all grabbed your own bag and locked up the car before beginning the walk.

It wasn't a long walk, but the heat made it feel much longer, before you arrived at the gas station. It almost seemed abandoned, looking pretty run down, but their was a truck parked outside by one of the gas pumps.

You walked behind your two friends as you approached the front door, pausing when you heard somebody shouting. With a frown, you stepped back as Ian and Cecelia stepped inside the station. Neither of them noticing that you were no longer following behind.

You considered ignoring the shouting but just couldn't, glancing back at the front door before walking around the gas station. As you walked around to the back of the small building, you saw three men.

One was significantly taller and broader than the other two. It looked like he was just trying to work, hoisting up a crate with an impressive amount of ease, while the two men just berated him.

The larger man just continued to ignore them. You wondered why he didn't respond, surely he could scare them off pretty easy. Maybe he was just trying not to cause any trouble while he worked?

"Hey" you finally spoke up, making the two men look at you. The larger man glanced at you, and that was when you noticed the leather mask. It was curious but you tried not to stare. "Is there a problem?" you asked.

"No problem. Just came for gas, didn't think we'd be treated to a free freak show as well" one of the shorter men jeered.

"Sounds like he's just trying to work and you're just being jerks" you folded your arms over your chest. The larger actually seemed to be reacting to the conversation now, placing the crate down and looking over at you. "Looks like you're just bothering him" you added.

"Just get outta here, we're only messing around" one of the men rolled his eyes.

"Dumb bastard probably doesn't even understand" the other man scoffed.

"He's the dumb one? You're the ones picking on some stranger to make yourselves feel better" you huffed, walking further towards the three men before smirking slightly.

"You know, from my experience if men feel the need constantly put others down and act like the 'alpha', they're usually overcompensating for something" you knew men like this and you knew the best way to get to them was to bruise their ego.

One of the men glared at you, stepping closer, trying to intimidate you. You glanced down at his crotch with a look of disappointment and disapproval. "Looks like the math checks out" you smirked as you met his gaze again, not backing down.

"You little bitch" he growled.

Maybe you had underestimated him...you had thought they were just a couple of jerks, finding some fun in pushing a stranger around, but you had underestimated them. You never even saw it coming but the bastard had punched you. You hadn't expected him to actually violently act out like that. You thought you would bother them enough for them to just storm off, you had been very wrong.

The shout that left you was out of your control, hands coming up to clutch your face after the impact.

You stumbled backwards, knowing you had to get away from these men, but there was suddenly something in front of you. The large man with the mask had moved between you and the two men as soon as they lashed out, squaring his stance and glaring them down, fists clenching at his sides.

Thankfully, the two men came to their senses and realised that they couldn't take the larger man even if there was two of them. They tried not to show fear on their faces but failed as they muttered to themselves, hurrying back round to the front of the gas station.

"Ah shit" you cursed, clutching your bleeding nose.

The large man turned to you with wide eyes. What was he meant to do?

You pinched the soft part of your nose and tilted your head back like you heard you were supposed to do. The man quickly shook his head, stepping closer and cautiously touching your head, making you look down instead.

"Thank you" you thanked him for correcting you. "I've never been punched before" you confessed with a slightly bitter laugh. He didn't know what to do, so he just stood there, his feet shifting slightly in the dirt.

Once you had managed to dry your eyes that had started to water, you lifted your head slightly too look at the man. "Are you alright?" you asked, glancing down at your bloody hands once you stopped holding your nose.

The man just nodded, digging around in his pocket before pulling out some clean cloth, holding it out you.

You thanked him again as you accepted it, brining it up to your nose to soak up the blood.

"Is it broken?" you asked. Surely, you would know if it was broken? But he seemed more knowledgeable about this sort of thing that you were, you didn't even know that you shouldn't tilt your head back when your nose was bleeding.

The man hesitated before carefully lowering your hand, letting him examine your nose. Thankfully, he shook his head and you let out a sigh of relief.

You were about to ask his name but got interrupted by a call of your name. You recognised the voice, it was Ian.

"Back here!" you called back to them.

Ian and Cecilia came running around the corner, looking between you and the masked man, their eyes widening them they noticed the blood on your face and the cloth.

"What the hell did you do?" Cecilia snapped at the large man standing beside you, looking like she was ready to set Ian on him, not like he stood a chance if she did.

"Hey, leave him alone, he didn't do anything" you were quick to defend the man again. "Just some assholes" you told them.

"Christ, why are you always doing this sort of shit?" Ian rolled his eyes, seeming more irritated than concerned.

"I didn't know he was going to punch me. I was just trying to help" you muttered, feeling like you were being told off for doing something wrong when you just wanted to help.

"Well, the car is pretty much fucked and-" Ian began to change the subject, giving you an update on the car but he was interrupted by the back door of the gas station swinging open.

"Thomas, what is all this noise?" a older woman asked as she stepped outside. "What happened?" she asked, looking between the two of you, glancing over at your friends.

The man, Thomas as she called him, didn't answer, so you spoke up. "I'm really sorry, ma'am. There were some men causing trouble, I was trying to help but...guess I made things worse" you explained, pulling the cloth away from your nose, noting that the bleeding had slowed.

The woman looked between you and Thomas again, seeming to add things up in her mind. "You took a punch for my boy?" she asked, her expression softening slightly.

"Uh...I guess, just asked them to leave him alone. Guess I pushed it too far" you nodded.

"You with those two?" she asked, gesturing towards your friends, "with the busted car?"

You just nodded and she hummed to herself. Feeling a little uncomfortable, Ian and Cecilia moved closer, coming to stand just behind you.

"Alright well...for your trouble, how about you come stay at the house for the night, we can get someone to look at your car tomorrow morning" the woman offered, surprising you.

"Oh we couldn't intrude" you shook your head, hating to be a burden.

"I insist. It's the least we can do" she didn't look like she would take no for an answer.

"Only if you're certain" you looked back at your friends, who just shrugged, alright with the arrangement. "Thank you, this is very kind" you look back at her with a smile.

"I'm Luda May, this is my son Tommy" she introduced herself and the man that was awkwardly standing to the side now.

"I'm Y/n. This is my boyfriend, Ian, and my friend, Cecilia" you introduced your small group.

Tommy frowned under his mask. Boyfriend. Of course. It's not like he even dreamed of getting his hopes up, thinking your kindness was anything more than pity. Still, for some reason, it stung a little. He just couldn't explain why.

"Come on, dear, let me lock up and get you back to the house, get you cleaned up" Luda May offered, placing a hand on your arm comfortingly.

After Luda May locked up the gas station, you all walked back to their home. It was a large but somewhat run down house. Luda May guided you all inside and introduced you to Hoyt and Monty, two rather rude older men, but she had told you not to pay them any mind.

"Thomas, will you help Y/n clean up while I show them to their room?" Luda May asked as you all stepped out of the living room, leaving the two older men behind. Thomas seemed surprised by her request but nodded.

Ian and Cecilia were ushered up the stairs, taking your bag with them as well as their own, while you followed Thomas into the kitchen.

Thomas gestured for you to sit down on a chair and you did, while he grabbed a bowl of water and a clean cloth. He seemed nervous but determined to help, cautiously taking your hands in his to clean them.

You watched your hands, almost in amazement. They looked so small in his hands, he must have been able to break your arm just by holding on too hard.

"Can I call you Tommy?" you asked, breaking the silence. He paused for a moment, looking up from your hands to meet your gaze. He had nice eyes. He nodded. "Well, thank you, Tommy. I'm sorry about those men, I hate people like that. You'd think they'd grow out of it when they left school, but they don't" you sighed.

Thomas only nodded again, obviously not a talker but you didn't mind. He still seemed nice enough.

Once your hands were clean, Thomas moved to clean the blood from your face but you noticed how he paused, seeming nervous again. He didn't want to make you uncomfortable and you thought that was sweet. "It's alright" you assured him.

Gently placing his hand under your chin, Thomas angled your head up slightly, holding it in place as he wiped away the drying blood from your face. Making sure to be extra careful around your nose.

You stayed still, letting him work. He was a large man with strong arms and large hands, and yet he was being so gentle. Like he was afraid of hurting you. It made you smile a little.

Just as he finished cleaning you up, pulling his hands away from your face, Ian walked into the kitchen. "How's your nose?" he asked, walking over to you, glancing at Thomas suspiciously.

"Good, it's stopped bleeding" you told him with a smile. "Thomas said it's not broken, but it still hurts" you chuckled. It was sore but there was no real harm done.

"Just don't get what you were thinking" Ian huffed, shaking his head.

"Was just trying to help" you rolled your eyes, not in the mood for an argument.

"C'mon, he's like twice my size, I don't think he needs you defending him. I'm sure he could've took a couple of men" Ian scoffed, making Thomas tense again. He had been so relaxed around you, now he wanted to leave the room, feeling like he had done something wrong.

"Ian, stop being rude, you're being an ass" you told him, sounding tired.

"Fucking freak" he muttered under his breath, glancing at Thomas.

"Ian!" you snapped, eyes wide in shock and disgust. "What is wrong with you? Just get outta here" you stood, pointing towards the door. You didn't even want to look at him right now.

Ian just rolled his eyes before leaving the room, not seemed to care about your anger towards him.

"God, Thomas, I'm so sorry" you turned towards the masked man, looking genuinely apologetic and horrified by your boyfriend's behaviour. "I don't know what's been wrong with him lately...never used to be like this" you made a weak attempt at an explanation, sighing as you returned to your seat.

Thomas just shook his head, telling you not to worry about it, but you knew it had bothered him.

"Hey, I'll kick his ass for you as well, if you want" you offered with a playful smile, hoping to lighten the mood a little.

It worked, at least a little. Thomas smiled a little under his mask, you were cute and kind. He liked you and, if he didn't know any better, he would think that you liked him.

Luda May had provided the three of you with one room, the only spare room they had, but that was kind enough in your eyes. She had even invited you for supper with the family. All of you sitting around the table, you sitting between Thomas and Ian, as Luda May dished out the food.

It was a little awkward, eating with complete strangers, so you all mostly ate in silence. "So, where are you lot heading?" Luda May finally asked, breaking the silence and trying to start a pleasant conversation.

"Nowhere in particular" Cecilia shrugged, still being polite.

"Just taking a little road trip. Get away from things for a while, you know?" you added.

Ian and Cecilia had been glancing at Thomas whenever they were in the same room. From behind the gas station to right now at the dining table. You thought it was rude but as long as they didn't say anything stupid, you wouldn't comment on it.

Unfortunately, there was a lull in conversation and Ian thought he would speak up. "Alright. What's with the mask, anyway?" he asked, looking past you to Thomas.

"Ian" you warned through gritted teeth, in complete disbelief with him and frowning at Cecilia when she giggled to herself.

The Hewitt family was looking at Ian, glaring. Thomas had tensed beside you. Shit, how do you save this one?

"Did you make it yourself?" you asked, turning your full attention to Thomas. He just nodded, staring down at his plate, assuming you were going to beginning mocking him. "That's pretty impressive, it looks good. You must be pretty handy" you complimented with a smile. Thomas looked at you with surprise in his eyes but smiled, as did Luda May.

Ian muttered something under his breath that you couldn't understand. You just ignored him, not wanting to risk him causing more trouble.

The rest of the supper was uneventful and you had thanked the family once again before everyone started to turn in for the night.

You had taken a shower before bed. When you returned to the bedroom, you frowned when you saw that both Ian and Cecilia were gone. With a sigh, you left the room and began to search for them.

You couldn't find them anywhere in the house so you stepped outside, onto the front porch. Once you were outside, you heard movement and followed it. Hopping down the steps of the porch and wandering around the side of the house. Maybe they had stepped out for a smoke? You thought Ian had quit, maybe he hadn't...

You followed noise until you heard what sounded like a moan. You frowned and turned the corner, freezing at the sight that greeted you.

Ian was pinning Cecilia up against the side of the house, her bare leg hooked over his hip, his pants bunched down under his ass. They clearly hadn't noticed you.

"What the hell!" you shouted, getting their attention.

They both jumped apart, Ian pulling up his pants and Cecilia fixing her skirt, looking horrified. "Shit" Ian cursed.

"Yeah. Shit" you scoffed. "Are you seriously fucking my best friend?" you asked rhetorically, wondering how he was going to try to talk his way out of this one. He didn't speak. "And you're fucking my boyfriend?" you looked to Cecilia, who looked down at her feet. "Will somebody answer me!" you were tired of being ignored.

"Yes!" Ian snapped, making you flinch. "Obviously that's what we were doing" he rolled his eyes, knowing he couldn't lie his way out of this one.

"...how long as this been going on?" you asked.

"About a month" Ian shrugged.

"I can't believe you!" you shouted at him, tears stinging your eyes. You were furious, more from the betrayal than anything. Ian had become a jerk over the last few months but now you were losing your boyfriend and your best friend.

"Look, we can talk this out, alright?" Ian approached you, going to place his hand on your shoulder.

"Don't touch me" you snarled, stepping back. How could he even think that you would be willing to 'talk this out'.

"What the fuck is all the shouting?" Hoyt's angry voice boomed as he rounded the corner.

"God, you are a fucking asshole" you ignored Hoyt, glaring at Ian. "I hope you're real happy together, you deserve each other" you spat before turning around, walking past Hoyt, who watched you leave with an irritated expression.

By the time you had made it back inside the house, tears were rolling down your cheeks. Thomas had been coming to find the cause of all the shouting, nearly running straight into you.

"Oh, uh, sorry Thomas" you apologised as you nearly collided with his chest. You kept your head down, hoping he hadn't seen the tears. But he did, and he worried that you had been hurt, had Hoyt hurt you? He swore he heard Hoyt shouting.

Without thinking, Thomas gently took hold of your shoulders and examined you. You were confused by his actions at first but when you realised what he was doing, you smiled a little.

"I'm not hurt, Tommy" you chuckled, sniffing slightly. He looked so concerned for you, it was sweet. You couldn't remember the last time Ian had looked at you like that when you cried. "So, uh...Ian really is an ass" you laughed bitterly, wiping away some tears. "...he's been cheating on me with Cecilia" you told him, explaining the cause of your tears.

Thomas could kill him. You were so kind and sweet, putting yourself in harms way for a complete stranger. How could he do something like this to you? How could he or your friend betray you like that.

Both of you could hear shouting coming from outside again, it sounded like Hoyt and Ian were arguing.

"Oh god" you groaned, embarrassed by everything that had happened. "I'm so sorry, we shouldn't be bothering you all with this" you were crying again, and getting frustrated with yourself.

Thomas wasn't sure what to do, people didn't normally like being around him but you didn't seem to mind, so maybe you wouldn't mind him comforting you as well. His movements were slow and careful, guiding you closer to him and wrapping his arms around you.

As soon as you realised he was offering you a comforting hug, you accepted it. You wrapped your arms around his waist, just needing somebody to hold you, as you cried into his chest. Feeling more confident, Thomas wrapped his arms around you more securely. His arms were large and strong, making you feel safe. His body practically engulfed yours, making you fell like the world couldn't touch you. It was a nice feeling.

"Thomas?" Luda May asked, also coming to investigate the commotion. "What is all that shouting about...are you alright, dear?" her attention turned to you when she saw that you were crying.

"I, uh..." you sniffled as you pulled away from Thomas, wiping your wet cheeks. You looked up at him and he nodded, reassuring you that you weren't being a burden. "I think Hoyt and Ian are arguing about something outside" you told her.

"Is that why you're crying?" she frowned. Has Hoyt decided to pick a fight even when she had warned him not too?

You shook your head. "...I caught Ian cheating on me with Cecilia" you sniffled again.

"Oh...I'm so sorry" Luda May's expression softened once again. Something flashed behind her yes but it was too quick to name.

"Thomas, will you go and help Hoyt?" Luda May asked calmly, looking up at her son. Thomas squinted at her and she nodded.

Thomas gave you a soft look before leaving through the front door. You didn't like the idea of other people dealing with your problems, but you couldn't argue because Luda May already had your attention again.

"Come on, dear" she took your hand, leading you to the living room and sitting down with you on the couch.

"I'm so, so sorry. You've all been so generous and my friends have been rude and now we're being so disruptive. I'm so sorry" you apologised. This family had tried to be so kind to you all and now you were being completely disrespectful.

"Hush now, it's not your fault" Luda May cooed, gently guiding your head to lay against her shoulder, beginning to stroke your hair. "Tommy and Hoyt will take care of them" she promised.

You just nodded, trying to stop the tears. You were too worked up to dwell on what Luda May meant exactly, just letting her hum and soothe you.

Luda May smiled as she stroked your hair, humming the same tune she would hum to shush Thomas when he was a child. You seemed pleasant, polite and kind. You would make a good addition to the family and you were so good to Tommy. Of course, she had seen how her son looked at you, amazed by your sincere kindness, already falling for you, the poor boy. Your so called friends did not deserve any kindness, but you deserved mercy.

Oh, she hoped you could forgive Tommy, she hoped you would continue to see him as the sweet boy he is.

[sukirichi]

earned it [01]

Gojo Satoru is a firm believer that if you work hard for it then you shall earn it.  But on the other side, he’s not unfamiliar with his own sins. He also believes that there is punishment due for his sins as he’s earned it.

request. (mafia au, sugar daddy au) + (dumbification, praising kink)

cw. smut, overstimulation, slight dumbification, praising kink, slight degradation, spanking, belt whipping, explicit murder, rough sex, shower sex, oral (f receiving), multiple sex scenes, riding, slight angst, veryyy unedited, sex when standing up, sex in pretzel position, dom! gojo, manhandling

notes. 🦋 anon, thanks so much for the request! i hope you love this one, i absolutely poured my heart and soul into this! minus the effort to edit, i’ll just edit this when i’m no longer sick lol

series masterlist

There he was again.

Working in a high-class restaurant located in the heart of the city meant you were no stranger to seeing people of power and titles, but he never failed to make everyone stop in their tasks every time he came around.

You don’t know his name, much less his usual orders since his usual table – middle 98 – wasn’t in your rotation. But you’re held captive in his presence, attention drawn to his broad shoulders clad in what seemed like a hand-stitched three piece suit, his striking white hair falling down in smooth tendrils. There’s something about the way he walks – confident doesn’t begin to describe it – that makes everyone surrounding him feel like they’re merely spectators to the enigma that was him, and he carries this observation proudly in his shoulders, that mischievous smile never absent from his face.

Your co-worker tugs at your sleeve, nearly knocking the empty wine glasses away from your tray. Barely catching them as you falter, you bow down to them in apology. No matter how intriguing the mysterious midnight comer was, you were still working. You needed to keep your head focused and in the game.

Hours pass by of shifting from one table to another, your hands beyond cramped from scribbling down such intricate orders. It’s a miracle you were hired in a place as luxurious as this in the first place when you couldn’t pronounce, much less spell the main dishes, but you proved through determination and hard work that the miracle was also accompanied by your grit. It didn’t matter that you were the youngest part-timer with little to no experience – unexpected things always happened when you’re backed in a corner, leaving you with no choice but to follow through.

This corner was nothing less than the struggle to make ends meet. While you’re lucky to have gotten accepted in one of the top state universities, there still came the issue of tuition fees, plus dorm occupations.

You don’t have the privilege to complain or whine that your experiences are probably not on par with what they expect of you, so you have to do your best; you have to keep pushing no matter how hard it gets and you’re barely awake for class the next day.

Clocking out, you bid goodbye to your co-workers and thank them for their hard work, about to leave through the back door when you hear his voice.

Your gaze lands on him from outside the kitchen, body twisted in the direction of where he sat, long legs crossed one another. He’s thanking the waiter for the wine, and you wince, because it isn’t just any wine. That’s one of the drinks locked in the special cellar because of its hefty price, yet there he was, swirling the red liquid around in his glass as if the amount of zeroes never bothered him. He’s reading something from his tablet, head tilted to the side as he drinks, and that’s when you see it.

It’s so miniscule you would’ve believed it’s just your eyes playing tricks on you, but you’ve seen in this class during one of your laboratory practices, the burn marks on your wrist a painful reminder of your carelessness.

Your boss’ shouts of warning fall onto deaf ears as you push past the double doors, feet moving on its own. The edge of the glass makes contact with his lips, gray lashes flattering across his cheeks, while time and sound becomes nothing but background noise to you. Your cry is inaudible when your hand pushes the glass away from his grip, the sounds of it shattering into pieces like a wake-up call to both of you.

For the first time since you’ve met him, the faintest look of surprise crosses over his face. His hands remain into a reflexive hold of the now missing glass, azure eyes cutting through yours.

You bow down to apologize – you can’t believe you’ve just done that and how his suit was stained and his pants soaked – but the words that left his lips stun you beyond disbelief, effectively freezing you in your state. His voice holds the same iciness as the blue of his pupils, but to you – just for you – there’s a tinge of awe behind them.

“Odd,” he says, “To think my life would be saved by you.”

You wake up with a gasp, hands clutched on the blanket covering your bare frame. There’s sweat forming on your hairline as you look around, wincing at the sliver of light passing through the curtains. Silver, ceiling length draperies obscure the view of the city skies outside, a huge reminder of where you are now – somewhere between the past and the future that’s about to come – and the king-sized bed you lay on almost feels like a dream.

Right. It’s been two years since you’ve met Satoru, the once mysterious customer turned into lover, an arrangement between financial aid and companionship solidifying your relationship with him now.

Your face burns at the sight of your clothes scattered all over your shared room. Your lace panties somehow end up on the chandeliers, the expensive material of your silk dress about to slide off the humongous TV and your bra hanging off the doorknob.

The light ache between your legs does nothing to appease your embarrassment. Even after two years of being with Satoru, it’s still difficult to believe he’s chosen you of all people.

He could’ve had anyone he wants. Not only is he beautiful, young, successful, and smart, he’s also an absolutely god in the sheets, your throbbing core attesting to his never ending array of his skills. Truly, Gojo Satoru was perfect, so much so that you pale in comparison to him no matter how much he’s assured you you’re the only he has eyes on.

It doesn’t make sense to you, but does it have to?

Love never required a logical reason for it to blossom, and you left it at that, fearful that it may just ruin whatever happened between the two of you. Besides, if Satoru wants you, then who were you to question that?

You swing your legs off the side of the bed to make him breakfast, but your legs shake upon contact to the floor, still very much sore after last night’s events.

Satoru’s been away for work for three days, and even though it wasn’t that much of a distance, he still acted like it’s been forever. He sure took his time with you, making you cum three times just with his tongue and fingers alone. He’s a cheeky and mischievous man; there’s no telling whether his words are just sweet lies or plain facts, but if there’s one thing you’re sure of, it’s that Satoru keeps his promises to heart. If he says he’s going to fuck you until you can’t walk the next day, he means it, and now you’re left groaning back onto the bed.

You’re thankful that it’s a weekend. Had it been a school day, it’s going to be an absolute pain in the ass. No matter how much he’s covered your school fees, you still won’t risk missing a day.

The door swings open, revealing your boyfriend clothed in nothing but his boxers, the smile on his face huge at seeing you glare at him. “Aw, baby,” he coos, sliding himself next to you, carrying a tray of pancakes topped with blueberries with him. Satoru wraps an arm around your shoulder and laughs into your air when you grumble at the soreness, which he tries to kiss away. “Sorry not sorry for last night. It’s not my fault I’m so addicted to you.”

“Whatever,” you mutter, fighting back that stupid fluttering feeling in your chest. Your attention is diverted to the luscious, fluffy pancakes, and your brows furrow at the sight. “Did you make this for me?”

“Yes, ma’am!”

You roll your eyes at him; his energy was always off the charts even after fucking you into oblivion. Thanking him under your breath, you reach for the breakfast, eternally grateful that it’s breakfast in bed because you can’t walk anywhere right now. However, Satoru pries your hands away from the fork, making you lean back instead as he spoon feeds you.

It’s a little humiliating – and he’s basking in this judging from the smirk he wears – but you give in anyway. Unlike him, your stamina isn’t monstrous. You’re still a human and you’re utterly tired, the glare endless through mouthfuls of the pancake. “I’m not a child, you know.”

“Yeah, but you’re my baby,” he retorts, smacking a kiss right at your lips.

You complain harder, ever so annoyed that you could never seem to throw him off guard and have the upper hand for once. Satoru eases the frown on your face by kissing you harder, his hand cradling your neck. He’s a fucking tease; his tongue languid and sensual as he tastes the honey coating your lips, sucking your bottom lip inside his mouth before nipping at it.

At the back of your mind, you’re wondering how each moment with him results into touching. Not that you really mind, of course, your stomach only flares up with heat at the thought he wants you just as much as you crave him.

Breakfast is soon forgotten right after seven bites as Satoru leans back against the headboard, thumb soothing circles at your hipbone to guide you on top of him.

He pulls away to breathe, a thin thread of saliva and honey between your lips present, and it’s so erotic that his eyes darken with lust, hands gripping a little tighter. You’re still bare on top of him, hardened breasts on display, but he holds himself back with heavy breaths, not wanting to ruin you further than he already has.

Satoru’s lips lands on your shoulder instead, thumb grazing under the weight of your breasts. He’s kissing you everywhere, almost as if he expects the flutter of his lips to heal you. You gladly let him taste you as he pleases, neck tilted to the side while you catch your breath.

The transition of him from an absolute freak in bed to the caring, compassionate boyfriend he is never fails to give you whiplash.

“How’s your studies?” he murmurs into your skin, his touch feather-like in caressing your back. You feel the hairs stand up at where he grazes them, shivering at the sensuality and tenderness he holds you with. “Doing good? My sweetheart still top of her class?”

“Hmm,” you hum back, planting yourself firm in his lap. He’s already hard under you, his cock twitching when your bare cunt presses on top of his tip, but he controls himself, focusing on your state instead. “My grades are tip-top, all thanks to your support,” Satoru smiles when you’re the one placing kisses all over his face this time, his giggles almost child-like.

Time flies by as you lay there in his arms. You’re lulled back into sleep at the sound of his heart beat, and just as you’re dozing off, Satoru pats your ass. “Baby,” he calls out, “Let me wash you first, then we’ll cuddle afterwards. What do you think about that?”

“That’d be great, I feel sticky.”

Satoru laughs, pulling panicked squeals from you when he suddenly hoisted you in his arms, carrying you bridal style. He kicks the door open before turning the heater on in the Jacuzzi, placing you under the shower first.

You close your eyes under the sprinkle of water, hands splayed all over his chest. Your legs are still wobbling, no thanks to him railing you as if there was no tomorrow, but he holds you upright, kneading his hands into your hair then washing every crevice of your body. When you open your eyes, you see him kneeling down to rub the loofah all over your legs, a slight pinch in his brows from sheer focus.

Your heart beats loudly on your chest, unable to process that the Gojo Satoru is on his knees, his touch nothing less of worshipping as if you were a divine being in his eyes.

It makes you breathe sharply as his face comes up before your core, his tongue darting out for a moment before he looks away, focusing on cleaning you up afterwards. His control and care for your well-being leaves you speechless, leaves you breathless, leaves you wanting him more and more and more that you’re kissing him again the moment he brings you both to his Jacuzzi.

He’s taken his boxers off to enjoy the feeling of skin brushing against skin, the fuzz of bubbles foaming up at your breasts only enticing him to kiss you with equal fervent passion.

You’re grinding down on his dick, his length encased between your lips that are extremely warm in comparison to the cool water. Finally, Satoru is stuttering beneath you, little whines leaving his breath as he kneads your ass, resisting the urge to slap the smooth flesh.

“Satoru,” you moan, “N-need you now, please.”

Fuck, his name on your lips mixed with your moans are enough to make him want to lose his restraint and just fuck you hard and deep there. He growls at how unaware you are of your effect on him, and he’s nothing short of starving in his kisses, never getting tired of tasting you over and over again. He wants to keep kissing you until your scent and taste is imprinted on his skin, to carry you around with him even when you’re not there, because he loves you, and he’s never loved anyone this much before. Especially for people like him, love was nothing but a myth.

Everything is a fantasy with you, a dream he doesn’t want to wake up from. If you were to ask him to give up everything for you this instant, he’d do it in a heartbeat.

His heart is enslaved by your existence, and he nods, helping you lift your hips up to align his cock to your entrance. He takes note of your soreness as you slowly sink down on his cock, swallowing your whimpers through open-mouthed kiss. You’re shaking inside his arms, tiny scratches mixed with mewls making its way on his chest, further adding to the litter of scars already painted on his body.

Your head lands on his shoulder the second he bottoms out. Satoru groans at the feeling of your walls fluttering down on him, so warm and so tight that he has to lean his head back on the headrest just to catch his breath.

“You ride me, baby,” he manages through pants. “I’ll let you set the pace – do what’s comfortable with you.”

Your jaw clenches at the same time you clamp down on him one more time, eliciting another sinful moan from your lover. A lazy smirk graces your face as you ride him slowly, the image of the almighty Gojo Satoru falling apart at your ministrations burned at the back of your mind. You’ll replay this memory every time he leaves for work again, and the dreadful thought of having to watch him leave one more time fuels you to bounce on him harder, nails dug into his shoulder.

Satoru winces at the slight sting but doesn’t stop you anyway; he’s no stranger to pain. In fact, he’s a master of that and many more in more ways than one, though you didn’t know that – and he’ll never let you know that.

His eyes snap open at the sounds of skin slapping against skin, the water sloshing out the Jacuzzi. He’s met with the sight of you clutching the edges of the tub, bottom lip caught between your teeth as you fuck yourself harder on his cock. Your breasts bounce right in front of his eyes, tempting him to latch a mouth around it, which he does, the sudden flicking of his warm tongue on your nipples driving you to the edge.

Your soreness becomes a hazy memory of the past with each slide down his dick, thighs burning from the exertion. Satoru is lapping up your breasts and palming the other expertly, his breath hot on your skin.

Something familiar coils into your lower abdomen with each hard thrust, and you throw your head back, moaning his name as if it’s the only thing you’ve ever known. You’re growing tired; he can tell from the way you’re barely lifting your hips, but you’re so close, so near, that Satoru takes it upon himself to push you both right where you wanted to be.

Your moan comes out breathless the moment Satoru grips at your hips, snapping his hips upwards at the same time he guides your body to crush down on him. He’s the one controlling your body, but you’re falling on top of him with no reserve, your weight slamming down to his groin in full force that he’s faltering. Satoru is entranced by the motion of your hips gyrating around the head of his cock, the wavering grin on your face a telltale you’re enjoying the act of destroying him, but he lets you – it’s only fair after the countless times he’s done the same with you. But oh, he’ll have you again and again, and he proves his endless desire for you by forcing himself deep to your most sensitive spots, the glimpse of your mouth hanging open as you come making his cock twitch.

Satoru squeezes your hips as he situates you flat on his cock, groaning as he came in thick spurts. You mewl, scratching at his chest as he rides his high out with a few more sloppy thrusts.

“I know, baby, I know,” he whispers at the top of your hair, well-aware that your oversensitivity is clouding your mind. But he can’t help it, not when you feel so good around him like this. “Just a little more, I’ll be – fuck – right there, oh yeahhh,” he drawls out breathlessly, his cock twitching with the last strings of cum until he grows boneless inside you.

Satoru pulls his cock out, chest heaving up and down from that earth-shattering orgasm. In all honesty, he’s confident he could give you an even better one, but your lids are already fluttering close that he chuckles, pressing a kiss on your temple as a silent you did well.

Somewhere through your half-awake state, you manage to card your fingers through his hair, voice small and weak as you ask, “Don’t you have to go to work?”

Satoru’s eyes lour with something unreadable, and he’s thankful you don’t get to see the sudden glooming of his face. He gently pushes your head to rest on his shoulder, his eyes narrowed at his rippling reflection in the water. In his eyes, he sees the truth – he sees a monster holding an innocent angel he lives to protect – the truth he wants to conceal. He can’t even fathom the possibility of you finding out about who he really is, much less what he does that enables him to provide you with everything you need.

He’s the demon himself, caressing someone as pure as you in his arms, his eyes and true self sinister except for the gentle kisses he leaves at the shell of your ear.

If it keeps you safe, he doesn’t mind becoming even more of a monster if it means keeping you safe.

So he keeps you right where you can’t witness the slight moments of vulnerability in which his horns reveal itself, hugging you tight and possessively in the fear he’ll lose the only thing that matters most to him.

“I have a meeting tonight,” is all he says, is what he always says.

He’s mysterious and aloof, too vague every time you inquire him about what he does for a living. Usually, you’d feel worried or even wary that maybe he doesn’t trust you as much as you originally thought, but you’re too tired to question him further, and he takes advantage of your weakness wholeheartedly. All to keep you safe.

Satoru closes his eyes as he takes a deep breath, no longer bothered by the fact each step he took is getting him closer and closer to a point of no redemption.

He’s not worried about that anymore, not when his salvation is right in his arms, wrapping him with your love and false sense of safety that it becomes the lie he feeds himself every night just to keep going on.

“I just want to be with you a little longer.”

This time around, Satoru tells the truth.

The rust of blood dripping off the concrete walls is as normal to Satoru as breathing is for everyone else. He doesn’t falter in his movements, doesn’t scrunch his nose at the stench, and he doesn’t waver from swinging his arm back, the heavy weight of the wrench already wielded in his hand.

Someone dared come up to their base to face him head-on.

He has to admit, he was impressed with their guts, but now he feels empty save for a slight sliver of irritation at the man’s bloodied face. He’s panting after coughing up blood so much, his face unrecognizable after the beating Satoru gave him, teeth splattered on the floor. Satoru’s right hand man, Geto, stands at the side, silently inspecting his nails.

They’d been going at this for hours now, yet they seemed to be right where they were at the beginning. Torture was usually an effective method of gathering information, but this hostage seemed to be on the same par of monstrous as Satoru from his unyielding nature, even had the audacity to laugh.

Satoru stops in his tracks, a brow raised at what seemed to be so funny.

“Everyone spoke highly of you,” he spat his blood out, his busted eye twitching under Satoru’s stone cold gaze. “They told me you were barbaric, ruthless, the most feared mafia boss out here, but you’re pathetic now, aren’t you? You’re not the same Six Eyes who sees all they claimed you to be,” Satoru watched warily when his hostage smirked, the same one he always wore just moments from bashing the skull out of someone. It’s because he’s so familiar with it that Satoru immediately puts up his walls, Geto stepping beside him with his gun gleaming under his coat. As expected, the man does not falter, his laughter merely increasing in volume. “You’ve grown soft, Gojo. Your little lover is your weakness, it’s written all over your face. Tell me, what’s stopping you from ending my life already? Afraid that if she finds out, she might push you away?” When Gojo doesn’t answer, the man clicks his tongue. “I fucking knew it.”

Geto moves quicker than his boss. He draws his gun and aims it right between his eyes, only to be stopped by Satoru’s indifferent tone. “Stop.”

“But boss-”

“Why did you come here?” he stabs the man in the thigh with a knife, his screams of pain alleviating enough to distract the painful clenching of his chest. “I don’t believe you came here just to prove the rumors true. Now you tell me, why have you come here?” Satoru slams his fist down on the knife, the blade pushing past through muscles and hitting deep to the bone. “Answer me.”

“Th-there’s a drive in my pocket. Open it and you’ll see.”

The man doesn’t stop squirming as Geto rummages through his jacket, nodding to his boss once they got hold of the slick black device. Geto immediately plugs it to the monitor, several photographs popping up in a few seconds, and those few seconds were all it took to bring the infamous mafia boss down.

Because they weren’t just photos, they were photos of you.

Of you laughing with your friends, of you hugging Satoru’s arm in one of your dates, of you kissing him under the streetlight and even an intimate photo of you going down on him while he’s driving. It must be taken from a street cam judging from the blurry quality, but it’s crystal clear to him anyway, and Satoru’s mind muddles with thoughts darker than he once believed he’s capable of. He feels his anger bloom like fire licking up at his skin, his nerves bursting through, and he’s so obvious, so predictable that his hostage guffaws.

“I was right, I was right-!”

“You mean her?” his voice drips down with so much indifference, it shocks even he himself. His hostage shuts up at the sudden change of Satoru’s aura, that dark, fearsome aura that had people begging him to kill them as an act of mercy coming back to life. The man clamps his mouth shut, chills running down his spine because it’s no longer the same Satoru he mocked pulling the knife out from his thigh.

No, this is the Gojo Satoru, the devil incarnate himself, and he’s made the huge mistake of believing he would be affected by a mere woman. Satoru reads the fear on his face too easily, not bothering to hide his sigh as he twirls the bloodied blade between his fingers.

“She’s nothing to me. She’s just another bitch, another paid pussy. Favorite of the month, you could say, but nothing of worth to me,” he announces, ignoring Geto who’s stiffened up at the corner. “Did you really come all the way here just to see if you could find my weakness? If so, then your organization is a lot dumber than I thought, and I hate people who waste my time.”

“No, no, please, I was just jok-” his eyes widen when Satoru snaps his fingers, and Geto rushes to his boss with his gun. “Please, no, I didn’t think she was just a bitch-”

The man never got to finish his words.

A loud ‘bang’ echoes around the room, followed by a slight snap when his head falls backwards. Blood drips from the hole sitting in between his head, the aim perfect and flawless even with Satoru not looking back. He’s still Gojo Satoru, leader of the Gojo Mafia Clan, and he’s not the most feared leader in history for no reason. He’s always been blessed with a physical prowess and fighting abilities that allowed him to take on other clans by himself, but he’s changing. There’s now a chink in his armour, and people are starting to notice.

If he doesn’t do anything about it soon…

“Sir,” Geto begins, following the rushed footsteps of Satoru outside the hall, where his security is lined up with guns poised and ready to risk their lives for him. This was his power, this was his legacy – and this is who he was.

A killer. A monster. A demon – he’s everything you wouldn’t love.

“I know, Geto, I know,” Satoru says through gritted teeth, his bloody hands clenched into fists. He already knows what he’s supposed to do; he doesn’t need another reminder of it. “You don’t have to tell me anything I know of already. Now send that body back as a warning. I’m going home for tonight.”

Geto is stunned, and he’s got every right to be. After all, in his boss’ 28 years of existence, not once has he called anywhere or anyone home.

He’s always claimed himself to be irredeemable, to be unworthy of love and forgiveness, but slowly yet surely, he was beginning to look at life differently after meeting you, after loving you. The word ‘home’ was never in his vocabulary, and yet, every time your face comes up in his mind, it’s the only word he can think of.

He came home a lot earlier than you expected him to. You’re hunched over the table, legs swinging back and forth as you finish your school packets when the door chimes with the familiar beep. It’s only midnight and he’s already here, the excitement manifesting in you as you jump off the stools, running to greet your beloved.

Satoru ends up as a blur of frantic hands tugging his tie off, his scowl seething with anger and regret pouring off of him in waves.

Before you could say anything, he has you pinned on the wall, one knee inside your legs to keep you upright. Satoru is kissing you, hard, one hand raised to keep both your wrists planted above your head. You’re moaning at his aggressiveness, the sounds encouraged by his erection poking at you from your silk robe.

It’s not rare for him to come home in need of a fuck to clear his head, but…something feels different this time around. He feels different, almost like an entirely new person.

Satoru pulls away to press his forehead to yours, his eyes hooded with lust and lips bruised from the kiss. You’re confuzzled; your lover is the exact same person standing before you, the same person grazing at your breasts until your nipples harden at his touch, so then why does it feel like the person who left and came back are entirely two different people.

“Can I fuck you, angel? Please?”

Your words die down your throat.

Satoru’s never said please before, much less look this devastated as he asks to have you. He always says it with exuberant confidence, his present frown usually a smile. There’s no trace of happiness or even playfulness in his eyes this time around. Instead, they’re filled with fear – desperation, even.

You say yes before you realize it, but it’s enough for Satoru. It feels like he’s only been waiting for that word before he goes on a rampage, for his lips are on yours again, patting your thighs as a silent command to jump. You follow his orders and kiss him feverishly until it becomes a battle for dominance, tongue and teeth clashing against the other. Your hands are tugging at his hair from how rough he’s grabbing at your hips, spanking the sensitive flesh that draws a whimper at you.

You don’t know how Satoru manages to find his way to the leather couch even with his eyes closed, but he takes you there, no longer gentle as he throws your weight down. You’re falling, falling, falling as your knees hit the material, cheeks pressed against the headrest. You turn back to kiss him one more time, but Satoru keeps you down there, the sound of his belt unbuckling reaching your ears.

Satoru wraps the leather around his palm, kissing you flat on the lips just as he slaps the material to your ass. He’s pushed your robe to bunch up at your waist, groaning into your mouth upon the realization you’ve been walking around the house butt-naked.

“You’re so fucking perfect,” he nips at your lips, feeding off of the pained moans coating his senses at each whip of his belt. “No underwear while I’m gone – you’re begging to be fucked, angel. You’re so filthy,” he swings his arm back to extend the length of the belt, squeezing your ass before he whips it harder against your flesh. You scream at the contact, nails ripping the leather couch and a slight puddle of drool on your lips.

“S-Satoru!”

“What?” he snaps, gripping your jaw, his eyes replaced with something animalistic as he stares at you. The love is gone in his eyes, your lover almost unrecognizable from the way he whips you again. You jut forwards, arousal pooling and dripping down his sofa. His eyes trail down your gushing pussy, nostrils flared before throwing his belt to the other side of the room. The buckle hits one of his expensive vases until it comes crashing down, the sound of it nostalgic to the first time you met him. “Can’t talk, huh, baby? What do you want? Tell me what you want.”

“Fuck me,” you blurt out, wiggling your hips sensationally at his already throbbing dick. “Please fuck me.”

You suppose you should’ve been more careful with your words, because Satoru lives to please, and if you tell him to do something, you can expect he’ll give his everything.

He knocks the wind out of your lungs by squeezing your waist, sliding himself into you one, full thrust. You’re wet enough that he slides in easily, but it’s too fast, too early, that the sudden stretch is painfully pleasurable. Satoru delivers one more smack to your flesh that makes it bounce, his growls loud and ragged as he pounds into you.

You’re clutching at the backrest, eyes shut tight as all your attention diverts to the heat in your core. You wish you could see his face, hold his hand or see the way he admires you while he fucks you, but you can’t see anything. Tonight, you could only feel.

Each thrust sends the couch a little ways forward, his balls slapping against your ass. He’s cursing left and right, more focused on getting his anger out his system than pleasuring you. It’s a drastic change to your lover’s behavior in bed, yet you can’t find any muscle in your body that denies this. Satoru can be rough, but he never really goes all out. One way or another, he manages to hold back for your sake, but his mind’s a mess, the voices in his head screaming louder that it drowns out the need to make you cum first.

He’s relentless, grip bruising the harder he fucks into you. You know you’re gone in the instance Satoru plants one foot beside you, the angle causing him to hit deeper.

Satoru ends up fucking into your cervix with each hard thrust, fisting his hand under your robe while he slams forward. It’s so intense that your vision blurs, a faltered grip on the couch. You’re falling limp under his ministrations, his dick successfully hitting that spot that has you seeing white. You’re screaming, babbling nonsense while Satoru uses you as his own fuck toy, pushing past your tight walls and relishing in the way you hug his cock snugly.

He came first, his thrusts growing sloppy and stuttering for a moment. Satoru pulls out so quickly from you that you’re left gasping for air at the sudden emptiness, and that’s when you feel his cum landing on your lower back.

You’re too slow, too weak – or perhaps he’s too strong, too fast – to react properly to his movements.

Satoru doesn’t let you catch your breath as he throws you over his shoulder, your face nearly smacking his ass. You feel dizzy at this position, and the voice in your head tells you that you should be scared he’s manhandling you like this, but seeing him this way – so reveled, so angry, so out of control – has you rubbing your legs, core dripping at the thought of how he’s going to use you tonight.

Your eyes widen when he doesn’t head for the bedroom. You were so sure he’d take you there, but Satoru lays you flat on the marble countertops of the kitchen, the cold biting into your skin.

Satoru doesn’t waste another second before he spreads your legs open and dives into your cunt. You squeal, legs instinctively closing around his head when you feel his tongue lick a flat stripe at your pussy, but he only pushes them apart, encircling your ankles hard to keep you open.

You know he’s strong, but you’re still surprised that he’s capable of rendering you motionless, powerless like this. Your mind wanders off to a dangerous path in wonders of how else he’s hurt someone like this – whether intentionally or unintentionally – but he immediately pulls you back to reality when he sucks your clit, his eyes direct with yours.

His hands trail upwards to squeeze at your breasts, the immediacy of it all firing up that tight knot in your stomach that he failed to snap a while ago.

Satoru’s nose rubs at your skin the harder he sucks at your clit, tugging it upwards until you’re whining around him. It’s always so erotic to see his pretty face buried in your cunt like this; you’ll never get used to him eating you like you’re his last meal. He laps up your juices like a starved man, his tongue prodding between your lips and slurping everything you offer him, one of his arms retracting to slide two fingers inside your sopping hole.

You moan at the sudden intrusion. The sounds of your moans mixing in with the lewd squelching of your dripping pussy is extremely embarrassing, even more so because you’re actually gushing down his palm.

Your juices spread all over his face, and Satoru is greedy, thirsty for more. He pumps harder into you, curling them against the ridges of your walls, and finally, finally you’re there. Your orgasm washes down on you violently that Satoru has to keep a palm flat down on your stomach, his tongue not ceasing from lapping up your juices. You’re convulsing from his hold, stuttered moans rewarding to his ears.

He doesn’t stop coaxing your wetness out of your cunt, his fingers working you out and easing the previous pain of when he entered you without warning. Satoru leans up to help you sit up, his lips colliding with yours for a much gentler kiss this time around.

You cup his cheeks, feeling him slide your body across the counters. Your arousal that he’s failed to clean up remains there until it spreads all over the back of your thighs, the feeling sticky and uncomfortable, but you’re more focused in his tongue dancing with yours. He tastes sweet – like mint and sugar – but his moans are sweeter, the sound dulcet and making you weak on your knees as you taste yourself on him.

Satoru tugs you forward, panic flooding you when you feel nothing under you. You feel like you’re falling again and you immediately encircle your arms around his neck, but he chuckles through the kiss, quick reflexes put into work as he carries you.

The kiss is sloppy yet heated, both of you unable to focus properly when he’s growing hard again. You expect him to take you to the bedroom to finish things for once and for all, but he’s impatient – this much you know the moment he walked in, but somehow keep forgetting – wrapping your legs to his waist instead before slipping inside you.

You mewl into his mouth, eyes snapping open to look at him nervously. His legs are slightly bent as he bounces you on his cock like you weighed nothing.

In this position, he’s hitting deep each time you slide down his cock. Unable to help it, you graze your foreheads with his to stare him deep in the eyes, the usual passion in them slowly returning with each thrust. The work is placed on his shoulders as he holds you close to him, the mind numbing sensation of your erect nipples grazing his sensitive skin enticing him to rut harder into you, all to enjoy the way you fall apart above him.

You’ve been rendered speechless, mouth fallen open to release breathy gasps. Hell, you’re unable to moan, not when his cock is sliding in and out of you so lusciously that you feel every vein protruding from the base of his length. How he manages to walk while fucking you is beyond your comprehension by now, but he seems to be having the time of his life based on his grunting, continuously fucking deep into your pussy so much that he refuses to let you go. Satoru kicks the door to your room open and places you gently on the bed this time, trapping you in his arms but with enough space to let you crawl back up on the bed. You stop as your head hits the pillows, and the mood immediately changes.

Satoru stays still inside you, his large hand cupping your face while you both catch your breath. There’s something unreadable about him. He feels young yet old at the same time, giving you the impression that perhaps he’s still just a child trapped in an old man’s body.

There’s so much fear swirling through the blueness of his eyes that you frown, marveling about what happened to him.

In the intimacy of the moment, you swipe the stray tear that had fallen down his cheek, smiling up at him in hopes he’d realize you’re always there for him. “Satoru,” you whisper, breath hitching as he starts to move. “Baby, what’s wrong?”

Satoru props you sideways, your leg flat on the bed while he hooks the other one over his thigh that is spread beside your body. You have to tilt all the way to the side just to see his face, your hand now bent in an awkward position. Although he doesn’t answer vocally, his gentle thrusts are enough to tell you he doesn’t want to talk about it – he never does, and he never will – so you shut your mouth, focusing on the pleasure of him hitting deep.

Your heart aches for him. You wish he could tell you everything, to share you his worries, and you can’t enjoy him fucking you too much because you’re crying, chest clenching that he’s growing distant no matter how close he is.

You don’t want to lose him.

“Hey,” he easily reads you, leaning down to flutter his eyes at you. “Nothing’s wrong. I’m just tired, okay, angel? But you’re making me feel good, you always do, so let me do the same for you,” Satoru kisses your tears away, the saltiness of it making him fuck harder into you, all to ignore the screaming inside his head.

He wants to hold you, he wants to kiss you, he wants to keep loving you like this, he wants to be with you, he wants to touch you – but it’s not that easy.

It’ll only keep getting harder in the future, but the future isn’t now. Today is the present, and it’s even more precious because you’re there with him. Right now, you’re untouchable by anyone but him, and it’s only him that gets to fuck you like this, only him who gets to see you whimper under him, only him who gets to kiss you hard while he fucks you deep.

He wants to fuck you hard enough that you never forget the feeling of him inside you.

Maybe he’s selfish, maybe he really is demonic, because he wishes that after this you won’t be satisfied with anyone else. He wants to fuck you hard enough you’ll keep wishing it was him, that it’s him who’s hitting your sweet spots and making you see stars, that it’s only him who can make you feel this good.

Satoru interlaces his hand with yours as he feels you tighten around him, the clamping down of your walls a telltale you’re near. You’re moaning, eyes dropping to where your bodies are connected. His cock is slicked with your arousal and he’s still thrusting to passionately, his hands touching you everywhere with the same ardor and impatience one would have when they know time is limited. And Satoru knows better than everyone that no amount of money can buy enough time in this world, because if such was a case, then he’d have done so long ago.

He silences his demons with the only way he knows how to; by kissing you and burying himself deep inside you, snapping his hips angrily as if they would counterattack his fears. Your hold on him is slipping from the sweat dripping down your bodies, but he doesn’t stop, his cock further stretching you out because he’s growing impossibly bigger.

Satoru’s cock twitches inside you, the motion pulling a gasp from you. He bites down on your shoulder, one hand gripping your other leg open as he grunts into your skin, his thrusts focused more on power than speed. He hits deep each time, the sensation of him sliding out slowly only to push back in vigorously to make your pussy throb too intense for you to even form proper sentences. He’s getting nearer, his thrusts growing more fervent and impatient. Satoru thumbs at your clit to coax you into following him, and with his thumb rubbing your clit and flicking it side to side, you end up finishing before him, your moan high-pitched and broken. He eagerly swallows the sound by releasing after you, refusing to pull out even as he feels both your cum trickle afterwards.

The sensitivity is too much for you that you have to push him away, and he complies, falling at your side but not before wrapping an arm around you first. His heartbeat is pumping under you, your hands tracing circles at his chest while he holds you impossibly close, littering kisses at the crown of your head.

It’s clear that something is wrong, but he won’t tell you no matter how much you ask. You know firsthand how annoying it is when someone can’t respect your space, so you close your eyes and let sleep overtake you instead, basking in the after sex glow and relieved only by his touch.

Hopefully, you think to yourself, he can tell you another time.

“Satoru,” you murmur seconds before falling asleep.

“Yeah?”

“If there’s something wrong…you’ll let me know, yeah?”

“Yeah,” he lies through gritted chest, pushing your head deeper into his sweaty chest. He has a habit of doing this; of pushing you close so you don’t see his face, so you don’t see the tears streaming down his face that are soon lost in your hair. You think that maybe he’s just breathing hard after work and fucking you, but he’s torn inside, feeling too broken that not even you could help fix his heart.

But you’re still there, and that’s enough for him. So he keeps his lips planted on your forehead all the way until the first sliver of light extends its fingertips over the horizon, the orange glow bathing you in an ethereal light while his body remained in the darkness.

It serves as a painful reminder that he’ll never be worthy of your love, that he’ll never earn the blessing that is your heart, that you’ll never truly love him the way he’s always wanted to be loved. Maybe now you think you do, but it will change once the darkness reveals his true nature, and the thought of you pushing him away hurts a lot more than having never been loved in the first place. To him, it’s a thousand times worse when you get a taste of something, only to have it pulled away from you.

And the longer he stays there next to you, he can’t help but picture your smile soon turned into a look of fear, your body bruised with marks and blood instead of his love bites.

They call him the notorious mafia leader who bows and yields to no one, but it’s not true. Gojo Satoru most definitely has his weakness, one that came into a form of his lover, and he can’t handle that you’d get hurt because of him someday that he believes it’s just better to let things be this way.

He’s silent from when he leaves the bed, refusing to look at you one last time as a final resolve of whatever is left in his strength. He quickly dresses himself and picks up your discarded robe on the ground, folding it and leaving it on the counter before shutting the door, the sound of his footsteps mute compared to the frantic beating of his heart.

Geto is already there at the lobby, his face empty yet eyes filled with sympathy. He opens the door for Satoru who slides in wordlessly, his lips pulled into a thin line while he punches in zeroes upon zeroes.

The words transaction complete flashes before him, and for a split second, he gets the urge to run back inside to hold you. But Geto clears his throat from the passenger’s seat, nodding at his phone that Satoru visibly deflates. His hands are numb the whole time he deletes your photos, your videos, and erases your contact, but it only hits hard that its over once he chucked the phone out the window, watching through his sunglasses as the device is crushed under another speeding car.

Its over, its over, its over – it keeps chanting at his head, and he wants to punch himself, wants to never see another daylight again every time he imagines you waking up alone and unable to find him. He wants to be sad, and he is, but there’s that relief blossoming inside him anyway that whispers its over, you’re safe that he can’t help but think…its okay, its over.

With that, Satoru rolls up the windows and nods at the driver who’s been waiting for him the whole time. He makes eye contact with a proud Geto from the rearview mirror, concealing his heartbreak with a laugh as he crosses his leg over the other.

“It’s over,” he says more to himself, “Let’s go.”

Gojo Satoru is a firm believer that if you work hard for it then you shall earn it. That’s the reason he got this far in life in the first place, he’s got his tenacity and dedication to thank for. But on the other side, he’s not unfamiliar with his own sins as well, and he also believes that there is punishment due for his sins as he’s earned it.

And the punishment of loving you – only to have you slip from his arms – is a punishment he’ll wholeheartedly accept.