#nine till midnight

[traffic-duck]

Do I even want to know?

[thenightpost]

Halloween comes again, and so do the storytellers with their haunting tales...

Featuring new stories from the creators of Malevolent, WOE.BEGONE, Hello From The Hallowoods, The Night Post, and more.

Find previous installments here: https://linktr.ee/ninetomidnight

[skyfullofpods]

It's audio fiction Sunday and Y'ALL HAVE BEEN BUSY

[solarianvoidthearoace]

It’s May 11th, blazing sunshine, 19°C, I just went to buy sunscreen for this year

…and I’m binging “Nine to Midnight” (finally gonna listen to the final part of “Nine ‘till Midnight”)

Once again a huge fucking recommendation to everyone who isn’t in the know yet, it’s a collaborative project between several horror podcasts

[unstoppablc]

hi i'm awake and alive and have a lot of feelings about this redhead and just ... yeah .

gotta tackle some work stuff but i intend on being here most of the day <3

[s-ccaam-era-crepe]

Stayed up until 11 and didn’t even do my hw lol I’m going to bed now </3

[neil-gaiman]

Every christmas, my parents give me a book. When I was nine, they gave me Odd and the frost giants. I read and stayed up till midnight that night due to how entranced I was in that world. I still have that book, I read it every Christmas.

Thank you for providing my most wonderous read ever. And now for the actual ask..

What was it like writing it? How did the idea come to fruition?

I loved writing it. However the tragedy of Odd and the Frost Giants is that chapter 3 was finished on a plane in China handwritten in a notebook. And I went to sleep on the plane. When I woke up the notebook was not on my seat table any longer and was never seen again.

So I wrote a new chapter 3 but secretly believe that the original was better.

[admiringlove]

happy birthday, satoru. i'll miss you till the end of time <3

satoru hated birthdays.

it was the worst time of the year. the cold seeped into his bones, a biting chill that he couldn’t shake. the snow blanketed everything in white, a stark reminder of his own hair color, and somehow, that made it all worse. he despised it. there had never been a reason for him to celebrate the day—or himself. because, really, what did gojo satoru have to celebrate?

he had everything and nothing, all at once. the money to buy the world, but the loneliness that kept it out of reach. he could touch anything, yet he owned none of it. what was the point of a day like this? a cake he wouldn’t eat? a song no one meant?

so when the day inevitably arrived, he found himself sitting alone in his room at nine in the morning. his phone lay in his hand, his lips curling into a small, frustrated pout as he stared at the screen. he thought of you—your face flickering in his mind. you should’ve wished him, shouldn’t you? why hadn’t you? why did you act like it was just another day, like he was just another person? indifferent. casual. distant.

you treated him the same way you always did—sarcasm dripping from your remarks, soft laughter slipping out when geto cracked a joke, cigarettes shared with shoko in the courtyard after class. and then you left.

it seemed as though none of his friends had remembered. and that... hurt more than he thought it would.

all his life, he’d been gojo satoru. the greatest. the honored one. the six eyes and the limitless user. for centuries, no one like him had existed, and maybe no one ever would again. he’d grown up as an untouchable, a god among men. always alone. disconnected from the world, from people. he didn’t even know what it meant to have a home.

but then, he’d come here. to jujutsu tech. and for the first time, he’d found something close to it. he’d found you. he’d found geto. he’d found shoko.

he mutters curses under his breath the moment suguru offhandedly mentions that you’ve gone out shopping with shoko downtown. harajuku, shinjuku—somewhere that usually might have piqued his interest. but right now, he doesn’t give a shit. not one bit. there’s a bitter taste lingering on his tongue, acrid and sharp, and it fuels his growing disdain for the day. he hates it more than ever.

it stings, more than he’s willing to admit. he’d gone out of his way to make sure he remembered your birthday. marked it on his calendar, down to the exact time of your birth, noting your zodiac signs and all the little details that made the day special. he’d stayed up until midnight just to call you, to be the first to wish you. he didn’t want suguru or shoko to beat him to it. that was his thing, his privilege. and then there were the gifts—carefully picked, thoughtfully wrapped.

but you’d forgotten about him. suguru hadn’t even bothered to tease him in that usual, exasperated tone he used whenever gojo flaunted his privilege. not a single snide comment, no playful jabs to pull him down a peg. and ieiri, she hadn’t even called him a loser today.

the thought nags at him, digs deep, and refuses to leave. he sighs heavily, staring at his phone screen as if it holds the answers he’s searching for. it doesn’t. the clock reads four in the evening. the day’s more than halfway over, and no message, no call, no nothing.

the ache in his chest is unfamiliar. for someone who has everything, who could want for nothing, it’s maddening to feel this hollow. so he shoves his phone into his pocket and heads out. no grand plan, no particular destination in mind—just movement, something to distract him. eventually, he finds himself walking into a small convenience store.

he doesn’t linger inside for long, grabbing a tub of ice cream and a bag of chips. it’s not much, but it’s enough. stepping outside, he looks around before settling down on a bench. the city hums quietly around him, distant enough to blur into the background. he opens the ice cream, letting the cold sweetness melt on his tongue, and tips his head back to watch the sun begin its slow descent.

the sky burns with streaks of orange and pink, and the air carries the faintest chill. it’s beautiful, he thinks, in a detached sort of way. but it doesn’t fill the empty space inside him. not today.

he watches the children on the playground, their laughter carried by the wind like a cruel melody. the rhythmic creak of swing sets and the squeals of kids sliding down brightly colored plastic seem to taunt him, their joy a distant echo of something he’s never truly known. he wonders, not for the first time, if his life might have been better—different—if he had been born ordinary. if he hadn’t been crushed under the weight of the jujutsu world, its endless demands a noose around his neck, tightening with every passing year.

would he have laughed like that too? carefree, unburdened by the enormity of what it meant to be gojo satoru? would he have been one of those kids on the swings, arms pumping, head tilted back to touch the sky, surrounded by friends who giggled and cheered him on? would his nights have been spent poring over homework at a desk in a small, cluttered room instead of wandering through empty halls of power and responsibility? would birthdays have been spent in a warm kitchen, candles flickering on a homemade cake, his parents smiling as they sang to him? parents who actually loved him—not for what he could do, but for who he was.

his chest tightens at the thought, an ache that feels almost unbearable. the life he imagines is so vivid it feels like a memory, even though it isn’t. it’s a phantom of something he’ll never have, a cruel dream that slips further away every time he reaches for it.

the sky blushes a deep pink as the sun dips lower, casting a warm glow that he doesn’t feel. he lets out a quiet sigh, leaning back on the bench. he was always surrounded by people, wasn’t he? classmates, colleagues, admirers. even strangers whispered his name like a hymn. but it was never enough. because he wasn’t just anyone. he was the gojo satoru. the honored one. the six eyes. the strongest.

and yet, beneath the grandiosity of those titles, he was just a man. a man who’d learned too early that strength didn’t equate to connection, and power didn’t promise love. always lonely. always alone.

he starts to taste the wooden stick from the ice cream, its faint bitterness seeping onto his tongue. it tastes like birch. or what he imagines birch would taste like. sharp, dry, and entirely unpleasant. his face twists instinctively, and he sticks his tongue out slightly, as though that alone could rid him of the awful taste. the half-eaten bag of potato chips sits abandoned on the bench beside him, the grease staining the corners of the crinkled plastic. it stares back at him like an unspoken challenge, but he’s already lost interest. he doesn’t want it anymore.

he leans back, sighing heavily, the weight of the day pressing down on his shoulders. the orange hues of the sunset feel like a mockery now; too vibrant, too alive for the quiet void curling inside him. at this point, all he wants is to retreat, to drag himself back to the dorms and sink into the familiar folds of his bed. the thought of his extra-fluffy blanket cocooning him is a small comfort, the idea of the springy, overstuffed mattress beneath him almost tempting enough to lift him off the bench.

but more than anything, he craves escape—not just from the day, but from himself. he wants to close his eyes and shut out the world, to drift into a dream where things are different. where the ache in his chest doesn’t exist. where he’s surrounded by people who care, people who love him. not for his strength, not for his name, but for who he is. it’s a small, desperate wish, one that he almost laughs at for its absurdity. but still, he lets it linger, lets it flicker softly in the quiet of his heart as he stares at the last rays of the setting sun.

and then the sun slips away completely, leaving the world cloaked in muted shades of dusk. the chill in the air deepens, and satoru pushes himself up from the bench, his joints protesting slightly. the bitter, almost metallic aftertaste of the ice cream stick lingers on his tongue, unwelcome and unpleasant. he straightens his back with a sharp breath, shoving his hands into his pockets as he starts walking toward the bus stop.

he could call for a car—he always could. it would be easy, convenient, and expected. but something inside him whispers otherwise tonight, a quiet, stubborn voice that tells him to let it go. to adjust. to make do. wasn’t that his life now, anyway? constantly making do. growing used to the loneliness that clung to him like a second skin. learning to be fine with it because that’s what people expected of someone like him. unshakable. untouchable. always alone.

he boards the bus when it arrives, the engine humming low as the doors hiss shut behind him. the world outside becomes a blur of motion as he takes a seat by the window, his reflection faint against the backdrop of passing streetlights and shadowed figures. he watches the city move, people coming and going, lives intersecting in brief, fleeting moments. none of them look up at him. none of them notice him.

when his stop comes, he stands and steps off the bus, offering a quiet, almost reflexive thanks to the driver. the old man turns to him with a warm smile, lines creasing the corners of his eyes.

“take care, young man,” the driver says softly, and somehow, it catches gojo off guard. he walks away, the smile still lingering in his mind. it was small, insignificant in the grand scheme of things, but somehow, it mattered. a fleeting kindness from a stranger, given freely, without expectation. and as he makes his way back to the dorms, he thinks, maybe that made it all a little more bearable.

and as he walks through the gates of jujutsu tech, a strange stillness settles over him. the grounds are eerily quiet, too quiet. jujutsu tech is never this empty, not even on a sunday. normally, the halls would be alive with people returning from missions, chattering about their day or sharing meals. but now? nothing. his brows knit together as he moves toward the dorms, his footsteps echoing faintly in the silence.

no professors. no yaga pacing the halls, barking into his phone or reprimanding students for running. no clatter of footsteps, no laughter or voices bouncing off the walls. the absence is unsettling, and his instincts tell him something is off.

he was too drained to summon any of his techniques, but he let his eyes do the work anyway. as he approached the door to his dorm, his footsteps slow, his heartbeat quickening. there was energy inside—something different, something alive. it seeped through the walls, radiating warmth and anticipation, golden and electric. it wasn’t the cold, sterile energy he’d grown used to in battle; it was something softer, brighter. something he'd craved for as long as he could remember.

he stopped in his tracks, a sharp, shallow breath catching in his throat. his eyes widened, the familiar ache in his chest giving way to something foreign, something terrifyingly tender. he could see it—feel it. you. geto. shoko. nanamin. and more. the room was full, brimming with people whose energies pulsed with affection, with excitement, with care.

his chest tightened, and his heart raced faster than he could control. the pressure behind his eyes spilled over as a tear rolled down his cheek. it caught him off guard, the rawness of it. he hadn’t realized how much this meant—how much he’d needed this. his hands lifted to his face, swiping at the evidence of his weakness, his joy, his disbelief.

he opened the door.

the sound hit him first: a cacophony of cheers and laughter, the sharp crack of party poppers releasing confetti into the air. streamers dangled from the ceiling, colorful and haphazard, while the unmistakable scent of cheap pizza mingled with the sweetness of cake. balloons bobbed lazily in the corners, and a few cans of off-brand soda were scattered across the table. it was chaotic, vibrant, and so terribly them.

before he could process it all, your arms wrapped tightly around his neck. his body stiffened for a fraction of a second, startled by the suddenness of your embrace, before a soft yelp escaped him, unbidden and raw.

“surprise!” everyone shouted in unison, their voices crashing over him like a wave, breaking apart the isolation he’d been drowning in all day.

he froze, eyes scanning the room. the decorations were clumsy, the food was far from gourmet, and the whole setup was almost comically thrown together. but it was perfect. they’d remembered. every single one of you had remembered.

because for the first time in what feels like forever, gojo satoru isn’t just the honored one. he’s just satoru. surrounded by the people who love him.

© all works belong to admiringlove on tumblr. plagiarism is strictly prohibited.

[mandy-asimp]

A game for two

Pairing: emily Prentiss x fem! Reader (she/her pronouns)

Warnings: teasing, profanity, smut, fluff(?),

Summary: y/n is the youngest agent with a TikTok account. And after video goes viral, people notice a connection between her and emily.

"Come on Pen! It'll be a quick break. No longer than thirty minutes!" Y/n beamed as she dragged Penelope from her office.

It was a known scene for anyone to see. The youngest member of the BAU pulling someone or a few others with her to teach them a new trend. Posting on a page she ran and deemed the official BAU page, naming it bootylicious_BAUbaddies. Fitting.

"What even is the trend this time? You post like every single day, people are gonna think we don't do our jobs." The blonde grabbed the phone. It was a complex dance with a lot of camera work. "This is what you want to post onto the BAU page? You don't think it's a bit risqué?"

The word made Y/n laugh, "it's an unofficial page under my personal information. I can post whatever I want. Plus, you are the only one who understands camera work." That's when her eyes landed on Matt and JJ walking in. "Omg! Can you guys throw papers and be flashlights?!"

"Y/n...we just got home from a case. It's almost midnight." JJ sighed, putting her stuff down anyways to help out. "Is it another dance?"

"Another? You did one today?" Penelope frowned, had Y/n found someone else to film her?

"It was a rough draft of the dance. So I could critique it and work on it. I only learned it this morning. Spencer filmed...but he doesn't have your magic Penelope," she reassured. "Lights on the sides at all times, Penelope moves forward following me, and it'll be a one take if you do it right."

Emily watched the one take from her office. Amazed by how smoothly someone could move even after a long day of murder. But yet, there was Y/n. Stretching very lightly before getting in position. The faint music from the phone played as Y/n moved in ways that made Emily blush from her office.

"You had all this energy for that dance, but you didn't have enough when running?" JJ teased, putting her phone away as she collected her belongings. "Goodnight to you all, I hopefully won't see you till nine." She left quickly, needing to get home.

Everyone else was close behind as their day came to an end. Another case and dance completed.

What Y/n didn't know, was that dance would be the one to bring her page to light.

By the morning, when Y/n was on her way, she had checked. Laughing a little bit about is the video blew up, but she scrolled and found another little idea to do. It was something simple and sweet, giving a kiss on the cheek to everyone and seeing their reaction.

It truly was harmless since the team was used to her affectionate behavior. She made it known that she cares for everyone on levels they don't even realize. How she had made it a point to spend time with them all individually continuously.

By the time she got to the bureau she could spot almost nobody. Her eyes jumped to the round table room, frowning as they all waved her in.

She set her stuff down and trudged over, "one day serial killers will respect our schedule." She sat before looking at the screen. Her frown instantly becoming laughter as it was her video. "Thats what you all were in here for?"

"Well it's only been up for a few hours and it's already surpassed three million likes." Penelope dropped the tablet with the data pulled up. "You put the BAU as one of the top units now."

"Means we'll have a lot more attention on us, and as the unit chief I have to remind you, just because it's personal, doesn't mean it won't affect you. If something is posted that is not appropriate to share, there will be consequences. Use this freedom wisely Y/n." Emily bowed her head and walked out. Heading to her office, where she would watch the dance over a few times before getting back to work.

And that's how most the day was. Just another paper work day with Y/n going around and gauging reactions from everyone for her next video.

Penelope covered her face and kissed her all over, leaving bright pink lipstick marks and a blushing Y/n. They also recorded the cleaning up and retouching as a separate video.

Luke gave his classic smile, which only earned him an eye roll and a playful laugh as he spun her and dipped her.

JJ smiled and gave a wide smile. The two talked about how sometimes the trends Y/n did brought light to such a dark job. And JJ really appreciated that.

Spencer was taken aback and started spewing facts about germs as Y/n wiped off her lips gloss from his cheek.

Rossi thought the trend was stupid, but still let it happen. Never having a smile on his face, making the viewers think he wasn't a happy old man.

The only one left was Emily. And Y/n couldn't have been happier. She knocked lightly before waltzing in. Setting the phone down on the desk, already recording as Y/n pulled over a chair.

"And what is this trend?" Emily looked at the camera, more watching how Y/n fixed her appearance and reapplied lip gloss. She was so entranced by the young agent.

Her eyes then jumped back to herself, she had silver hair and a few wrinkles. She wasn't as young as she used to be anymore. "You are still beautiful for your age, Prentiss." Her voice broke in. Could she read minds? "No you forget I'm one of the best qualifying new agents in my generation. Of course I can read your mind when you space off."

"Right..." Emily whispered. "So the trend?"

Y/n beamed, "yes the trend! In short because I can't tell you too much, it's quick simple, and everyone else can tell you that if you need another backing source. Even Rossi took part."

Emily pondered over for a second, but overall agreed. "Ok. I'll bite."

And so the younger grabbed Emily's phone, having already pre sent her the audio before walking in. "You know, I'm surprised you even have TikTok on your phone. I figured you would've been apart of the group that thinks it's useless and a waste of time. But then when I got the little notification that you joined, I have to admit, I got a bit excited. I can teach you about it if you ever need. And teach you any trend you want to learn." Y/n rambled on. Not giving Emily a chance to say anything as the sound started.

Soft music began to play as the two sat there and Y/n just so suddenly turned and kissed Emily's cheek. Her lip gloss shining against her pale skin, that soon turned a light pink. Her world went silent as her heart hammered and she looked to Y/n with a stunned smile.

It was silent as the two just stared at each other. But it wasn't a friendly stare it seems, Emily was looking absolutely smitten and Y/n could see it. The thought that her boss could possibly like her making her grow a matching pink.

The sound ended and began to replay, but was lost upon deaf ears. Suddenly the room felt different. Did it suddenly get warm in here?

Y/n was forced to watch as Emily glanced down to her lips. Licking her own in the process. It made her blush even deeper. "Emily..." she barely got out.

The silver fox leaned in closer to her prey. Suddenly eager to get just a taste. Her hand reached up to cup Y/n's soft cheek, feeling truly how warm she was. Smiling down at the stunned agent.

She pulled Y/n closer. Just barely touching their lips. Emily enjoyed the small gasp that escaped as her eyes widen in shock.

However, the knock at the door ruined their moment. Emily grabbed her phone, turning it off to end the song playing on repeat. That's when she noticed the other phone still recording the whole moment. And she flashed a smile to the camera, her canine seeming to twinkle in the light.

"Come in," she recomposed herself. Hands folded on the table.

Y/n on the other hand, had composed herself on the outside. But internally she was a wreck. She never knew Emily would be so capable of making her a mess. Yeah, she's thought about it, but it wasn't anything like what just happened.

JJ poked her head in. "We just got a case....it's bad." The worry on her face being enough for both to snap into work mode.

~

The case was over in a week. A week of sleepless nights and too much coffee. Everyone was exhausted.

"I can not wait to be on that plane," Y/n groaned. "I swear I'm taking tomorrow off. I'm going to sleep all day long."

"Now that does not sound like a bad idea," Luke agreed, along with the others. "A nice little at home day. What do you say Chief?" He turned to Emily.

She took a good look at everyone's exhausted face, and her decision was clear but she took too long to observe and didn't notice Y/n walking over and hugging her.

"If you say no, I will make the world think you actually hate us." Y/n playfully threatened, smiling up to her boss and practically skipping back to her bags. "I mean it." She suddenly had a serious face on.

Emily knew it was just the sleep deprivation that was causing this much attitude. But a little part of her, felt that she really did mean it. "Fine, tomorrow you can all have the day off. It'll be Saturday anyways." She gave in.

They all cheered as they boarded the plane. Spencer spread out on the small couch, JJ across curled up into a chair, Luke and Rossi on the other side sitting horizontally from each other, Matt and Tara in the other seats across from each other. Then there was Emily.

Y/n figured she would've sat across her, keeping a small space, but she wasn't complaining when she sat next to her. "Switching it up on me?" She teased.

"Mm well, I figured last time we were this close we got even closer." She threw back, reminding the agent of their last encounter. "Did you ever post the video?"

Slightly stunned, she shook her head. Her ponytail brushing against the seat and reminding her of her headache. She went to reach for it, eager to pull it out.

"Here," Emily broke in quickly. "Let me," her hands were up by the black rubber band suddenly. Carefully pulling at it and the hair. Dropping the hair tie onto the table and taking it upon herself to scratch the others head. Her nails sending tingles all down Y/n's body.

And y/n couldn't deny it, Emily was good with her hands. She seem to suddenly know how to touch her in ways she didn't even know. She scratched in the right spot and she hummed a moan as her eyes were shut.

The team all looked over to the two of them. Questioning at first but then laughing. "So she finally gets the famous 'Prentiss scratch," Spencer cracks the joke.

"Have you all had one..." Y/n sharply inhaled when she got a new spot. "Ohmygod..." she whispered as her face contorted.

"Enjoy it while it last, you only experience it once. Mine was four years ago." Luke mentioned.

"Mine was for my birthday, I felt like my hair was thirty times lighter." JJ gave her experience. Soon everyone was talking about theirs.

And before she could process any words, Emily's hands were leaving from her head. "No, don't stop!" She protested, earning chuckles from around at the reaction. But her hands left anyways, and Y/n whipped to look at Emily. Her pupils blown wide.

It wasn't a reaction Emily thought she could get. Did her touch really work her agent up that much? A sly smirk crossed her lips as she shook her head and turned away.

"You can't just give us the knowledge of how good your head scratches are and then just rip it away! That's vicious!" She put up a fight. Hoping that it would get Emily to continue her actions. "I thought you liked us..." her eyes suddenly pleading.

"I'm with her on this one, come on Prentiss!" Luke played along. "It's a gift, those hands."

Y/n dropped her head to look at Emily's hands. They were stunning. How only a few rings decorated them, but they all matched perfectly. Matching the bracelet that wrapped her wrist. Then were her arms. Strong and yet so careful. Sculpted by the best.

"Those hands..." Y/n mouthed to herself. Her eyes snapping up to Emily's. Already finding hers staring back. With a huff and blushing cheeks, Y/n turned away.

~

Y/n woke up, but it was colder on the planes than usual. Everyone was asleep, and by best guess they still have four more hours. It was too cold to sleep though, she wanted her sweatshirt.

But she was on the inside, the window seat. It was either over and out or under or just climb over the sleeping woman.

"Do you need something?" Emily's eyes fluttered open. Her head rolling over to stare. Even waking up she was still beautiful.

"It's cold..." she mumbled. Hoping it wasn't to much to ask, "my sweatshirt is in my bag." But instead, Emily slipped out of hers and handed it over. Falling back asleep before any protest could begin.

She sat there with the sweatshirt in hand. Knowing there was nothing to do but put it on. And so she did, along with setting up her phone and grabbing the mic of her headphones.

The video began. "Hey vlog, or whatever...turns out, I read her ," the camera panned over to Emily. "Signs right! She gave me her sweatshirt and the video we made...guys listen I can't even add it in because of how intimate it is. Maybe I'm delusional though. Cause she's literally my boss ...I think I'm being crazy....nah, she definetly likes me. Emily Prentiss, I hope you're ready for what's next." And the video ended. Lasting a little over a minute.

But she didn't fall back asleep, she couldn't. Her mind raced with too much thoughts. For another two hours she had to weighs her pros and cons of going for it.

Eventually she rubbed her eyes and sighed. She leaned back and closed her eyes again. Counting sheep until she drifted off.

A few more hours had passed, leaving only an hour left until the landing. Emily had woken up know. Instantly feeling something on her shoulder. Slowly looking down, she saw Y/n peacefully asleep.

In her moment, she pulled out her phone and took a few pictures. Dropping it quickly as the other stirred awake. Lifting her head and peeling open her eyes.

"That was some good sleep, holy shit." She yawned. Her comment earning tired laughs from everyone else. She leaned over to Emily, "see how they all are followers? Waking up at the same time as me? Wannabes." She joked.

Emily shook her head. "I'm glad you got some sleep." She hummed. Checking her phone now, and when she opened it, the pictures were pulled up. She tried to swiped out of them, but Y/n had seen them.

Blushing madly when the woman met her eyes. It was a hard stare, causing feelings to arise when they shouldn't. Her legs squeezed slightly at the eye contact. "Was that...I'm sorry if I was leaning, I truly didn't mean to." The apology fell with a laugh following. It was genuine and still light. "You're a little weird though, Unit Cheif Prentiss. Taking pictures of your young sleeping agent."

Her comment was full of playfulness. Emily knew that easily. It made her smile slightly. "Can you blame me? When a cute agent as yourself is sleeping, it's no doubt I'd take pictures."

Y/n elbowed her arm and shook her head, looking down to her phone. "Be careful, if someone sees they'll think I'm your sugar baby." The joke fell without second thought.

It caught Emily off guard. How easy the joke was made. She didn't continue playing the game, silently pondering over the joke.

"Seems like someone can't handle being a sugar mommy," Tara teased from across the way. Having watched the entire interaction. "Should make it your lock screen, really sell it. It'll bring you in more sugar babies. Have one for everyday of the week."

Y/n scoffed with a smirk, "who says I wanna share my new found sugar mommy? I like the attention only on me."

The jet laughed. "You make enough to not even need a sugar mommy, plus, sharing is caring." Matt butted in now.

"Even if I don't need financial support, Prentiss is still attractive and also...I don't care." She gave a shrug, looping her arms with the woman next to her and leaning on her. "There's only room for one sugar baby in her life."

Emily couldn't believe the conversation she was hearing. The term they kept using. Sugar mommy. Would Y/n let her spoil her if she asked?

Then there was the physical contact. How she held onto her. Pushing her breast against her arm and holding on so possessively. Who says I wanna share....her words rang in Emily's head. She wouldn't want to have anyone else if she had her.

She took a quick glance down to the other, finding her completely unphased by the conversation. Instead she was scrolling through her phone, looking for a new trend to partake in.

~

It had been a few days now. Everyone was doing paperwork and trying to finish their day. That's when Penelope came rushing in towards Y/n.

"People are noticing!" She squealed as she put the phone onto the desk. There was an edit made between the young agent and her boss. Comments about how they look 'down bad' for each other. "You and Emily are becoming a very popular topic, fifth trending hashtag."

"That's hilarious. How much evidence is built against us now?" She scrolled through a few comments, them all making her smile. She took it upon herself to scroll further on the new hashtag. Over a thousand videos reacting to the edit and a few more edits.

"Just wait till they find out she's your sugar mommy," Tara came and took interest in the phone as well. "Looking at it now, you two do look like you're beating around the bush."

"Well that's cus it's only a one sided bush. Emily Prentiss does not want anything romantic to do with me." Y/n clicked off the phone, handing it back over. "She probably wants someone more wise and shit. I have a TikTok account with the term bootylicious in it."

Both woman looked down in disbelief. That when JJ came in. "I have know Emily for a while now, and I can tell you know, that woman let's you get away with more than she ever would've. There's definitely two sides of the bush."

The woman in question came out, looking over her team and being curious of what the women were all talking about. "What's the conversation?"

Y/n sighed, "we've become a trending hashtag. They're beginning to think we're more than just friends. Then Tara made the joke about when they find out you're my sugar mommy." She explained shortly. Leaving out the bush part.

"Oh? What are they saying?" Emily questioned, almost feeling desperate to hear more of this new information.

Penelope opened the phone and handed it over. The four letting their boss scroll a bit and read. A small smile cracking on her lips. "Yeah...wait till they find out you're my sugar baby." Emily joked as well.

Truly, she was hiding the sudden excitement. Was there a chance? Surely she had made enough moves for the other to figure it...right? She almost did kiss her the other week.

"I have a meeting though, if anything comes through just shoot me a text." She made her exit, the smile really growing as she couldn't stop thinking of the two together. The things that she would do.

But the thoughts got lost over the long day. Papers being filled out and turned in. By the end, everyone was just happy to be free.

Emily had walk out, her bag in hand. Confirming they were actually done.

"We so have to get drinks. We haven't had a day were we finished reasonably on time." Y/n groaned, stretching from her chair. "Plus I wanna do who we all think will be the drunkest."

"If it's a competition I'm so there," Luke agreed. "But you're so going down."

Tara scoffed, "you do not want to play any drinking game with that one. She reigns undefeated on girls nights."

"We don't know how she does it, she's held the title since the first night. We were all set up that night..." Penelope reminisced in the memory. How drunk they all were...

"But you're so welcomed to try, Alvez." She beamed in pride. "I say we all change and meet in an hour?"

They all agreed and began to walk out together. Emily noticed how Y/n walked over to Penelope's car. "I can drive you?" She offered. "I live closer than Pen does to you so she wouldn't have to go out her way."

She glanced to Penelope, her head now facing away from Emily. Giving the blonde a wink before turning back. "Sure, it makes more sense. Though, this is very sugar mommy esc of you, Emily." She joked as she walked over. Looking through her lashes with such an innocent look, "I bet you'll even put your hand on my thigh and help me pick what to wear, won't you?"

Emily stared down, her pupils dilating at the words. Her lips curled into a devious smile. Her mind running with possibilities.

She simply turned, leading back to her car. Opening the door for the other as she slowly rounded the car, the smirk never leaving her lips.

And for the entire drive her hand traced circled on the others thigh. Yet, Emily never got a reaction. Y/n played it cool and just scrolled through her phone.

Although, Y/n could hardly read anything on her screen. The burning sensation being the only thing she could truly think of. But she enjoyed the game, eager to see how much Emily could take before loosing it.

They parked and walked in silence next to each other. The teen in the main lobby giving a second glance at how the two looked. She had seen the edit and couldn't believe her eyes now. Quick to pull out her phone and film the two getting into the elevator. Capturing how Emily's right hand fell to Y/n's lower back and the two shared a look before moving. Disappearing into the silver box.

Y/n gave a small exhale once it was just the two of them. "Someone can't handle their own game?" Emily's words were quick. Her eyes already staring back and full of wonder.

"I don't know what you're getting at, Agent Prentiss" she tried to deny the grin but it was useless once she looked at Emily. The whole situation was just setting in to her.

It set in even faster when the silver fox had her against the elevator wall. Her right hand gripping at her jaw as the other held her close by the waist. "You don't seriously think you'll win, do you?" Her voice was vicious. "Y/n, you're so much smart than that." Her brown eyes scanned over ever feature, lasting the longest on the plush lips.

The elevator dinged, and in a blink Emily was off her. Standing as if nothing happened, but she was stunned when Y/n walked away...unbothered entirely.

Her hands fiddled with her keys before finding the one to unlock her apartment. Laughing lightly as Emily rested her hands on her hips. "You are handsy, I must say." She joked. As the door unlocked, her hips pushed back into the others, causing the hands to slip more forward. A playful gasp came, "maybe even too handsy!"

She broke from the grasp, entering the home and taking a deep breath. "It's nice to be home," she dropped her stuff by the door. Y/n disappeared around a corner, only giving the choice to follow.

When Emily obeyed, she was speechless. The view from the big window was insane. Being able to see over half the city and the bureau. "If you would like to pregame, I have a mean stash of dark."

"Trying to get me drunk already?" The older came closer, leaning against the cool marble counter. Once again, her answer was a mere laugh.

Y/n had this glimmer in her eyes. It's the same one she has every time she's about to say something unexpected. This time being no different.

She came close to her boss, leaning into her and pulling her down by the neck. "I don't need you to be drunk for you to sleep with me. I already have you and you didn't even notice, so much for a profiler." She backed off now, still housing that devious look. "It's a shame the teams waiting for us, would've loved to see where this went..." her voice trailed off as her eyes looked Emily up and down.

Y/n winked, leaving the guest in the living room as she went to her bedroom. At first not hearing foot steps behind her, then they were hot on her trail. Glancing over her shoulder, she couldn't help the rush of excitement at the frustrated Emily. Everything was going to plan.

Emily turned to shut the door, carefully and not slamming it. Spinning on her heal to really lay it down, but Y/n stood by the closet entrance fiddling with the hem of her shirt. Pulling it up slowly, but right when her bra shows, she turns. Entering the closet with a sexy sway in her hips.

She passed through her outfits, trying to find the new dress she ordered. As she was about to push the George Town sweater over, hands wrapped around her waist and a nose was burrowing into her hair.

She let it play out, continuing to search for the dress. Stepping over twice while the woman still held her. Her hand pushed the black formal dress over, finding just what she was looking for. She felt the felt of the hanger under her hand, but forgot everything by a new touch. Soft lips hovered over her neck, letting warm breaths fan over the skin. Skilled hands roaming up to her chest and cupping her boobs through the bra.

The moan was light, quiet. But the groan following from behind was deep, lustful. "Is that all it took? Touching you right?" Emily whispered against her ear.

Y/n wanted to cave in, she was ready to as well, but she knew just one more would win her everything. So, with a steady hand, she grabbed the dress and turned in Emily's arm. "And what would you know about touching me right? Do you fantasize about me? Is that how you know?" Her voice steadier than ever.

Emily let her tongue dart over her lips. "You have no idea..." she thought this was it. That drinks would be forgotten and she could finally have her.

But it's never easy with Y/n. "I can give you a sneak peak if you'd like..." she beamed up to Emily. Not giving her the chance to respond as the younger stood on her tip-toes to be next to her ear. Fake quiet moans falling from her plush lips, "oh...right there...yes Emily...yes.."

Her grip tightened on the other's waist as her breathing became erratic. "Baby, id make you scream." She leaned her lips closer. She was right there, lips practically on hers.

That's when the small laugh came, and Emily had no idea what was so funny. "I always win," was all she got out before breaking away and leaving Emily on the verge on loosing it.

She groaned again, this time in frustration. Her head was shaking as she tried to piece together what the next move could be. The dress, she figured.

Her eyes snapped up when she thought of the outfit. Hands covering her face as she tossed her head back. It hugged onto her so well, showing off enough legs to keep Emily busy for hours. The perfect amount of cleavage could be seen. And the flowy sleeves to give a little arm coverage. It fell right below her ass.

Emily swallowed thickly as she left towards the door. Trying to ignore the sound of laughter that followed her out. "Can't handle a little skin?" She teased as she brushed pass. Locking her door before looping her arm to Emily's and handing over her keys.

The action confused Emily. "Why didn't you bring a purse? I'm sure you had one?" They stood outside the elevator.

"I don't plan to come home tonight," Y/n hummed. She stepped a little closer to the woman, squeezing her arm just a little to bring her eyes down. "That is...if you give up first. Cause I can play this out all night. And personally, I don't think you can last all night."

"You have no idea what I'm capable of, bunny." She gave the new nickname. And it made Y/n's heart beat a little faster and her smile grow a little more. The blush dusting her cheeks as her pupils dilated a little more.

"Bunny? Is that because you're a silver fox?" Y/n joked, feeling excited at the new found name. The elevator opened and the two get on. Just them. Neither one stepping away or saying anything until they hit the eight floor.

The doors opened and in walked a man that seemed unfamiliar. He was fine as he was...until he gave a once over on Y/n, then one on Emily. The difference being the smirk he gave the first, then the disgusted he gave the second.

He seemed closer to Y/n's age, and that's what they assumed was the reason for his comment. "If you ever get tired of the old hag, I can support you." The words fell out and both agents seemed star struck.

"And what is it you do for a living?" Y/n asked, loving how the interacting had Emily pull her closer to her and wrapped her arm around to hold her hips.

"I'm a college professor. Youngest in my building." He flashed his smile. Enjoying the attention, but soon letting his mood fall when the woman shared a look. "And what does she do? Crochet and feed her cats?"

"She's the FBI's section chief....so I think she's got you beat..." Y/n shrugged with a mocking look. Getting a mean look as he got off on the fifth floor. Grumbling as he shook his head. The doors closed a few seconds after. "I told you people think you're my sugar mommy."

Emily scoffed and let the tiny smile spread on her lips. "Maybe you're the one who fantasizes...this whole sugar mommy talk. Would you like me to spoil you rotten? Is that what this whole game is?" Her hand sliding down from the hip to rest right on her lower back.

It was a quick motion suddenly. She pushed Y/n forward and let her arms wrap her up. Her left hand holding onto the left boob and her right hand gripping her right thigh.

Y/n's hips pushed back into Emily. "I don't kn-,"

"I don't know? But bunny, you do know. You know you want to give in and just let me have you." Her hand slid closer to her core. "We could have so much fun if you give in."

It was tempting, but she shook her head. They were at the second floor. Trying to ignore the hand slipping into her panties. How close she was.

The elevator dinged, and Emily was off in no time. Something she was so good at. Disappearing like a ghost. Leaving Y/n cold from her touch.

The doors opened and Y/n relooped their arms. Passing the teen in the lobby once again. Y/n flashing her a friendly smile as they left. Emily's car being right in the front.

~

It was about two in the morning, and the drinking battle was about to begin. With the entire bar watching, Luke and Y/n had ten shots of light, and three dark shots.

Matt stood behind him, cheering him on. Saying how the rumors were fake and she couldn't drink. And Y/n knew they were all drunk and just saying things cause they can.

Emily was behind her. Hands on her hips as she gave them a squeeze. "Put him in his place and make me proud, bunny." Her voice was seductive on all levels.

Y/n met Luke's eyes. Both having hands on the pool table by their first shot. "You're so fucked Alvez," she slurred. She leaned over to him slightly, "I'm gonna make her proud."

"Wait let's film this!" Penelope came up. Setting up one of their phones to capture both of them. Giving a drunk thumbs up as Tara stood on the other end.

She inhaled, "ok, I want it nice and clean. Ready.." the room went silent. "Set..." the two contestants glance at each other one last time. "Go!" Tara shouted.

It was a blur, truly. Shot after shot. They stayed close the entire time, but by the fifth, Luke began to slow by a millisecond. That was all Y/n need for a lead, and she jumped three shots ahead. Making it to the darks before he could get down his sixth. Cheering when she slammed down the last one.

Her arms in the air as the room cheered with her. "I told you Alvez! I make my woman proud!" She gloated around. Reaching and grabbing the two dark shots he never made it to and turned to hand one to Emily. Pleased when she understood and they shared the victory.

JJ laughed at the sight, "do you even have a limit?" She also grabbed an unfinished shot. Passing one to Tara and Penelope. Matt taking the last vodka shot and handing Rossi the dark.

Y/n shook her head with a wide smile. "I was the academies party animal. I had to be able to out drink everyone." She spilled her secrets.

"You're who threw the party that nearly caused a city power outage?" Tara furrowed her brows, enjoying the openness.

Y/n grinned, "that's me! I out drank Captain Johnson that night." She took pride in that achievement.

"Mmm as much as I would love to hear a drunk confession, we are closed. Your drinking battle was the last round I poured." The bartender came over and informed.

And everyone was out within half an hour. The team biding drunken goodbyes as they went their own ways. Everyone too drunk to notice Y/n and Emily leaving together.

Their drive back to the closer apartment being filled with humming and wind blowing through the car. They stopped at a stop sign, and Y/n stopped humming along.

A sudden realization that the night was almost over...and Emily had still yet to make the her move. "What's wrong?" Her voice rang through her head. "You seem upset now..." the worry laced her words, only to be countered with a cute pout.

"You're being stubborn." Y/n grumbled. The effects of how much she drank really getting her in the car. Which was new for Emily to be witnessing.

She figured that the passenger would be more submissive now, but that would be too easy. Y/n was the farthest thing from easy. Always throwing in a curve ball. This was her drunken curve ball.

While the light stayed red, she just acted. Grabbing Emily's jaw with her light pink nails digging just slightly into her soft flesh. She brought the older closer, tight to touching their lips.

"Why won't you give in?" She pouted. Eyes flickering down to her lips, then back up. "Do you not want me? Have you played me Emily?" Her voice was quiet and fragile.

A laugh nearly fell out of Emily's mouth, but she contained it. Grabbing the hand that held her face, "because I want to be able to do whatever I want with you." She pulled the hands away as the light turned green. Y/n huffed and crossed her arms. Looking away and out the window. "Pouting about it won't help your side, bunny. You could give in and we'd be over this game already."

"No," the response was instant. Her eyes wide and back on Emily. "I'll play this game forever until you give in. I know you want me in ways I can't even think of, so you'll be the one suffering. Especially since you can't do anything about it." She yapped. Her mind truly telling her that her plan was going to work.

Emily rolled her eyes as they pulled up to Y/n's apartment. Ignoring the questions of why they were here. She opened the passenger door, sighing at the agent who was acting childish.

"Y/n."

"No."

"Y/n, let's go."

"No."

They got into a staring match. And Emily was just not having it anymore. It was late and she was tired just as much as the other was. So instead, she reached in.

"Wait no, stop!" Y/n tried to protest but the hold Emily had was too strong. She was thrown over the shoulder as she kept trying to get free. "Out me down! My butts gonna show!"

That's when a hand was placed over it. Holding the dress down and making Y/n burn red. As soon as it was there, it was gone and she was set down. Facing the elevator.

"You're no fun." She grumbled. Meeting the brown eyes in the reflection. It earned her a small laugh as the doors opened and she got nudged in.

"And you're drunk. If that's even possible." Emily joked. Her hands found home on the others waist. Holding her swaying body up and from falling. "But you did take thirteen shots in a row. Which I must say, is pretty impressive."

Y/n suddenly switched moods. Turning with a bright smile. "Anything to make you proud." Her eyes being genuine with each word. "Luke never stood a chance anyways."

"That confident from the start, huh?" Her brow arched in question.

Y/n shrugged, "I had you on my side from the start. Well actually I planned it and you fell right into the trap. But shhh that's a secret." Her index finger rose to her lips.

"Your trap?" Emily was full of curiosity now. What plan did she come up with? "Tell me about it?" But she shook her head, spinning to face the silver doors. "Please? What did that pretty head plan?" Still nothing. "Bunny?"

The doors opened and the younger was gone. Swaying while fidgeting with her keys for the right one.

It wasn't until Emily came up and carefully grabbed the keys. Getting the door open in only a few seconds. The accomplishment getting a loud cheer from Y/n, who was being directed into the apartment.

This did not set well with Y/n. And making it easy wasn't gonna happen either.

Before Emily knew it, she was chasing Y/n down the hallway. Scooping her up bridal style. "We do not need to be running around like this. Someone will hear us and file a complaint."

Y/n gave a chuckle, "we're the only ones on the floor," she pointed Emily's chest. Stumbling into the apartment and kicking off her shoes. She found her way to infront the big windows.

Emily moved in the silence to get a glass of water. She figured Y/n would stay by the window...but then again she just chased her down the hall.

Arms wrapped around her and a head hit the back of her dark silk shirt. The action was cute, she'd admit that, but she was also set to get some water in with all the alcohol.

Without thinking much of her actions, she turned and gently gripped the jaw. Tilting her head back and bring the glass to her lips. "Drink." Emily simply commanded. Watching at how easily she complied, tapping twice on her wrist to say she was done. "No. All of it. If you can do thirteen shots you can finish a glass of water."

~

Waking up, Y/n felt like hot garbage. She had to have been drunk last night for the consequences she would face. Especially once her stomach begin to turn. In a blink she was in the bathroom. Letting the night free from herself.

There was a hand holding back her hair and another on her back. And if she wasn't regretting whatever happened, she would've been in defense mode instantly.

"I'll go get you some water," Emily's voice rang in her head. Oh dear god. What happened last night?

She sat back and tried to recall anything. Not getting past roughly ten. She came home with Emily, then went out for drinks, then had said drinks.

The possibilities of what could've happened continue to haunt her. "Here," the voice broke her thoughts. She looked up to Emily, who was giving such a kind look almost always while looking at her and holding out a glass of water.

It made her feel less nervous. "Emily Prentiss, did you sleep with your sugar baby while she was drunk?" She joked about what she thought happened, taking the glass. She wanted to know what happened in the missing hours.

The comment made her boss flush pink, "no! No you were far too out of it for anything of that sorts..." She shook her head, pausing ever so slightly. "I'd want you to remeber screaming my name."

It was Y/n's turn to flush. "Well played." She downed the water and got up. "Unfortunately I don't remember much after ten...and seeing that it is well into the day makes me assume it was a long night?" She prepared to brush her teeth and rid of the lingering taste in her mouth.

Emily laughed at the confession. "So you would say you finally got drunk?" She teased, coming up close to the other. Y/n rolled her eyes and was about to walk away from the bathroom. But Emily grabbed her wrist and spun her back. Holding her firmly at the waist. "You didn't answer my question."

"Wouldn't you enjoy that? Me obeying you so easily?" Y/n was so easy to quip back. Never in the mood to back down. "And even if I did confess that to you, nobody would believe you."

Emily was surprised at the remark. "You think the team wouldn't believe me? And why's that? You have something to counter it?"

"If you as much say a word of me being drunk, you'll never get what you want. And I will make it only hell for you." She got closer, the two being nothing but a whisper apart.

"And what is it I want?"

"Me."

"Confident much?"

Y/n answered with a smirk of many implications. Leaving the grasp to change into a different lounge outfit.

"Do you have any Saturday plans I should be aware of?" Emily sat on the edge of the bed. Watching as Y/n moved to collect a new outfit. Throwing each article onto the bed.

"Why yes, actually! I have a hot date coming over." She flashed a smile over her shoulder. "Wouldn't want to third wheel would you?"

Emily rolled her eyes and looked towards the window, facing away from Y/n. "Your date would be the one third wheeling." She was about to stand, but she was weighed down.

Y/n had made her way over into Emily's lap, straddling her and looking down to her. "You're right. Especially because you're my sugar mommy. If they touched you I think I would've lost it."

"So you admit it?" Emily had a hopefully grin. Hoping that maybe, just maybe, this was it.

"Admit to what exactly?"

"That you would let me spoil you. Be your sugar mommy?"

"Mm...no. I don't need your money. Plus, being a sugar mommy is an arrangement with no feelings involved. And if I wanted to put myself through a literal living hell than I would, but that's not on my bucket list. Not good for my mental state either." She answered truthfully without directly saying her truth.

Emily processed the words, slowly putting them together. Not realizing how Y/n began to form a smile and get up. Her head shaking while she thought in her own world.

"I don't have any Saturday plans. The most is finding some movie that I haven't seen before. Do you have any Saturday plans?" She began to get dress.

Emily was still in her own world with the words. And when she looked back to the now dressed woman, she was full of questions.

"So does that mean...?" Was all she let out, still not knowing if she meant was she meant.

Y/n laughed and came to stand in front of Emily. Hands on her shoulders, and Emily's pulled her closer by the back of her thighs. "You are the worst profiler in the entire unit," Y/n teased, a cocky smirk in her lips.

"But that whole little game you played? You're telling me you meant it?" Emily stared up, confused still by the idea of it.

Someone as young as Y/n having a crush on someone older. Old enough to be her mother almost.

"The idea is not that hard to grasp Emily Prentiss. I like you for you. I don't want you for some arrangement. I want you as my girlfriend." Y/n cupped her cheek, bringing her lips to be just a breath away. "But now that you mentioned my little game, just know I still plan to win."

The younger began to back up, making the mistake of turning her back on Emily. It was the second her back was turned, that Emily was moving. Spinning her around and pinning her between the dresser.

"I am not playing your game anymore. You're not going to tell me all that and then just walk away after a night of teasing." Emily's eyes were dark and swarming with emotions.

Y/n cupped her cheek once more, watching the woman lean into the touch. Turning her head to place a kiss to her palm. From her palm to her fingertips and back, the action caused Y/n to fail at comprehending anything. How delicate Emily's lips were against her skin. To be able to feel her lips pushing against her skin.

"Give in." Y/n whispered, knowing she was only a few seconds off from giving in herself.

"What is winning to you?" Emily kept placing kisses against her skin, trailing up her arm and to her neck.

They met eyes finally, a hair apart as they stared at each other. Y/n licked her lips, "everything." And that's when Emily closed the space. Kissing hungrily but softly. Tasting the fresh mint in a delightful way.

Y/n smiled in the kiss, putting just as much emotion into it as the other, if not more. How her heart was beating to a fast pace tune, her mind was silent with only thoughts of Emily.

The two stayed there for a little before the kiss began to get more heated. Emily dropped to scatter kisses all over the others neck. Taking Y/n by surprise with a bite to her pulse point, eliciting a gasp and a grip in the silver mane.

Y/n tried to push off the dresser, her back still digging into the edge, but it seemed Emily was lost in the moment and almost growled. The sound was deep and her voice came out gravelly. "I could practically eat you, you're so sweet. Letting me have you here."

Her hands slipped under the oversized shirt, feeling how soft and warm Y/n was in contrast to her cold hands. Her rings not helping as the metal touched the skin.

Y/n tried to push off again, growing eager to get to the bed. "Emily...the bed is right behind us." She managed out, eyes glossy as she scanned over the messy duvet. Her hand came up to her chest when she didn't get an answer, pushing her off slightly to break her trance.

Emily's breathing was erratic and her pupils blown wide. Her brows dropped as she was confused by the push. "You got a bit too lost there," Y/n blushed. "Is that really what I do to you?"

"Oh bunny you have no idea," Emily smirked. Throwing a look over her shoulder to the bed. "Are you sure about this?"

Y/n followed and glance over Emily's shoulder, looking at the bed. "Yes. But...I won Emily." She smirked up, watching the dread fill her eyes. "Oh trust me, you'll enjoy me being in charge. I'm full of surprises remember?"

The older groaned and took a step back. "What is it you want me to do?" She sounded almost defeated.

Y/n laughed and pushed her back to the end of the bed. Leaning over her slightly, "you make it seem like I'm going to torture you. You wait here for five minutes, I'll knock and you'll close your eyes and then I'll tell you to open them, m'kay?"

"That's it?"

"That's it."

"Fine." Emily agreed. Sitting for the two minutes on the edge of the bed, taking in every detail in the room. Hoping to see it again. The knock had came and Emily closed her eyes.

Y/n peeked her head in first, making sure they were closed. Before going in to set up her winning. She had changed into a cute lingerie set, one she knew Emily wouldn't be able to resist.

The outfit change taking five minutes. "Ok." She stood right in front of Emily. Entirely on display for her. "You can open your eyes."

And when Emily did, her mouth ran dry. Y/n looked absolutely stunning. "I don't.."

"Ruin me Emily Prentiss." Was all Y/n had to say before she was being pulled in and being covered in kisses.

Emily took her time covering every inch she could get with kisses. Leaving several hickies on her neck before scattering them all across her chest. To anyone else it would look like a whole different story.

Y/n's pants and moans spurred the boss on. She truly would start to believe Emily had fantasize about this for how she just knew where to touch. It made her squirm for more. "Mmm, Emily..."

"I'm going to take my time with you." She was nothing short of stating a fact. "You look so adorable in this set. Have you been saving it?" Her deep brown eyes bored down at Y/n. "Did you order it with that dress from last night? I never told you how good you looked." Her head dipped down and kissed over the hardened nipple. Sending a jolt of electricity through her body. "And then when you beat Alvez," a kiss to the other. "You truly are something special, Y/n."

Her hands slipped behind to unclasp the mesh bra. Freeing the boobs and watching them naturally be. Emily licked her lips once again, ducking to the right nipple first.

Her tongue swirling over it lightly at first, but then adding more pressure. Listening to the sinful sounds that rang in the room.

"Emily...please..." Y/n breathily begged. Not knowing if she was ready for what Emily was planning. But her answer was teeth grazing her chest. Earning a new sound from the woman above.

"Baby, best things come when you wait. I want to work you up so much that it's undeniable that you'll never want anyone else." Emily answered truthfully, continuing her ministrations.

Y/n was lost in the feeling, but it wasn't enough. And it was clear it wasn't going to be enough anytime soon.

And after minutes that felt like timeless hours, Emily began to move down further. Her hair tickling in her previous place. She was back to her loving kisses all across her thighs. Feeling the legs shake slightly.

"You're so easy to work up," Emily hummed against the inner thigh. Her eyes staring up at the beauty above her. Watching as her head shook side to side. "Really?"

"You're just better than what I imagined," Y/n confessed without thinking. Realizing her words too late to even take back, and she knew they fed Emily's ego like a three course meal.

She wanted more though. Emily pulled back and hovered over Y/n, a yearning look hidden behind all the lust. "You've imagine it? So you do admit it. You've thought about me in naughty ways, how perverted of you." A laugh followed out. Making Y/n suddenly feel small at the comment, and not in an enjoyable way.

There was no answer in return and that's when Emily could see through the clouds. She had crossed a line and potentially screwed everything up.

Without realizing, the silver fox backed off entirely. Moving to the end of the bed and rubbing her eyes a bit. "Y/n...I'm sorry if I've crossed a line."

The younger sat up, crawling over to the other. Grabbing her hands and holding them silently at first. Trying to gather the right words for this situation. "...it's ok, but just know you're dealing with a pillow princess in all honesty. I like to be treated highly, like when you call me bunny. I enjoy that very, very, much. Your stone cold demeanor is sexy at work, but I want the real Emily Prentiss. The one who knows what emotions are." She snuck her hand on Emily's cheek and leaned in. Kissing her softly and with unspoken words. "Now don't let this afternoon be ruined." Y/n whispered before slowly moving toward the middle of her bed.

Sitting on her knees with her back arched and pushing her bruised chest forward. Her eyes glistening for Emily to come finish what she's started.

And Emily was not going to miss her chance. She took a deep breath and her eyes were filled with lust again. Exciting Y/n on a new level. She made her way up, standing on her knees as her hands slipped around the smooth waist. Leaning in and claiming the plush lips as her own now, forcing Y/n to bend back as well. Emily sunk down with each kiss until she was eye level.

"Can I undress you?" Y/n fiddled with the shirt. Only now realizing that Emily was in her clothes. The shirt and sweats making her seem so at peace. But as her hardened nipples poked against the fabric, it was hard not to imagine the lack undergarments.

A small smile played on Emily's lips, "of course you can, bunny." The two stood and Y/n took her time. Trying to mentally prepare to see her wild thoughts with her own eyes now.

She played with the hem of the shirt, balling it up before pushing the fabric up. Showing of the freckles that adored her chest. Taking a moment to admire the skin details, eager to ingrain every spot into her brain.

Her eyes then jumped up to Emily, who was staring and focusing on every move. "You're absolutely stunning...." Y/n let the smile take over as she leaned in for a kiss. Their bare chests pressing against each other.

The warmth of Y/n clashing with the coldness of Emily. But together they balanced the other out. Cooling down the burning skin, and warming up the icy touches.

Pulling back only slightly, Y/n slid her hands down. Slipping her hands to push down the shorts. Revealing the simple black underwear.

"Those mine?" Y/n gave a playful laugh, figuring if everything else was.

Emily shook her head though, "no I went home while you were asleep. I had to change from last night's clothes."

Y/n furrowed her brows. "So then why wear my clothes?"

"So that even when you were asleep, I could still be surrounded by you." Emily answered so easily. Gaining blush from the younger.

Emily would've loved to stay in that moment, it was simple and the start of something new, but when Y/n stood there in nothing but lace panties, it was hard to stay there.

"I could be surrounded by you forever," Emily smirked before pushing the other back onto the bed. Not waiting to dive to where they both wanted her. She took a deep breath in, "you smell so sweet, do you taste this sweet?"

Y/n let out a giggle, "you could find out." She propped herself up a bit on her elbows. Finally seeing Emily between her legs, growing impossibly wetter at the sight.

Maybe it was the lighting, but the sparkle in Emily's brown eyes was enough to say she planned to. She littered a few more kisses, leading Y/n to believe that there was more teasing, but with the first swipe of her tongue, both knew how this was going to end.

It was like an instant addiction. One Emily would never get enough of and wouldn't want to try and quit. And maybe she got a little out of hand when she tore the panties right off. Causing a surprised gasp to echo in the room as she dived right back in.

The room being filled with Y/n cursing, panting, moaning, and lewd Emily's that slipped from her mouth. It had to be a crime how good she was.

"Mm..fuck Emily," her name came out broken on Y/n's tongue. Her head rolling into the comforter under her. Emily swirled around her clit, moving so smoothly.

The tightening in her stomach grew suddenly. But right as she thought she would find a release, Emily wasn't working her magic anymore. Instead, she watched as Y/n clenched around nothing before meeting her eyes. "I told you. And with how addicting you are bunny? God we're gonna have a fun time," she smirked. Her hands massaging at the pillowy thighs. "You're beautiful you know that? Anybody would be lucky to have you."

Her hands slid up to her waist. Squeezing it in her hands and humming. "You look amazing in everything as well. It would take an entire country to make you look bad. But even then, you'd still be the most beautiful." She kissed all over her stomach.

Kissing up between her boobs. Where she took notice of how ragged her breathing was. "To be able to share these moments with you, baby. I promise to never let you go. I'll make sure you're safe everyday."

Her lips pressed against her neck. Sinking into the already bruised skin and sucking. Listening to the moan. They drove her into a different dimension, she would swear on that.

Y/n choked on a gasp as two fingers slid into her, catching her once again by surprise. The burn of being stretched was tedious, but it melted into pure pleasure. "You..." she couldn't think as Emily moved her hand. Her mind drawing to a blank as her palm hit her clit as it went.

"Yes baby?"

"You...mmmph...do you mean it?"

"Every word."

Tears pricked in the corner of Y/n's eyes as the feeling drew her close again. She prayed her legs not to give her away, but they work on their own for Emily. It seems all of Y/n worked against her. They began to shake, trying to close around her hand and keep it there, but with Emily in between, it was useless.

"Please," Y/n huffed. Her back arching up off the cover. And when she was just one more thrust away, Emily was gone again. "You so suck." She panted while looking up at the white ceiling.

"Oh, is someone upset they didn't get their way?" Emily faked a pout. Leaning in close and placing a chaste kiss to her lips. "I've told you my plan."

"The working me up?! If that's the case I want to redo my reward." Y/n sat up quickly and crossed her arms.

"Oh yeah?" Emily laughed a bit, "and what is it you want now? Even if you change it all now, you're still all worked up and no release. Now who do you think is gonna give it to you?"

Y/n blinked a few times, really thinking it over. Emily was right. She was worked up twice and knew it wouldn't be the same now that she's had Emily. She pondered a little more before crossing her arms and looking away.

"Are you gonna keep pouting?" Emily tilted her head to the side. Not getting Y/n to look at her. She knew what the other was wanting, it was obvious. "You are one princess you know that?"

Y/n smirked over her shoulder. "I told you I was, remember? Right after you called me a pervert?"

"You gonna hold that over my head?"

"Till you're on your knees begging me, I will sit here and look away." Y/n looked away again. Letting the choice be up to Emily now.

And man did Emily enjoy this more than she thought. The brattiness wasn't over done and Y/n knew what she deserved. She still held more control than she let on. Emily could feel herself give in almost instantly too, but she held down for a few seconds.

Then, she pulled Y/n to the end of the bed and got down in front of her. Hands traveling up her legs and wrapping them around her own head. Emily now sat with her head between Y/n's legs and looking up to her.

She placed caring kisses to the thighs next to her. "Is this better?" Emily glanced through her lashes, meeting the others eyes.

"You're not begging." She had spoke down to her, a devious smirk pulling at her lip. "Why should I let you?"

"That's how you play?" A brief nod. A beat of silence. And a silent sigh of defeat. "Please bunny, I need to taste you again. You've denied me too long. Please, please, please, I need you." Her humorus tone disappears as as she spoke, turning into true desperation as she could smell the effect of her words.

Her hands held her thighs, her grip tightening. Y/n wasn't budging yet. She was holding out on her self just to watch Emily fall apart. "Y/n. Please. I can't wait long. Please."

Y/n gave a look, tilting her nose into the air a bit to look down. Opening her legs to give Emily access and wearing a winning smile. "That's so much better," her tone was cockier than ever. Even her moan as Emily took her first swipe again.

And even for the second time, Y/n still tasted just as addicting. She sounded even angelic with her sinful noises. Everything about her lured Emily further in. Almost loosing herself in the moment. Her mind could think of nothing other than the beauty on the bed.

"God, Y/n...." she hummed lowly. "You're just so delicious. So beautiful. So desirable." Her tongue picked up. Her thoughts of wanting to see the other fall apart becoming heavy. "Just like that baby."

Y/n gasped once more before her breath hitched in her throat. The knot in her stomach snapping without much warning. Her hand flew down to Emily's hair, nails scratching at her scalp as she rode out her high. Profanities running from her like no tomorrow.

Emily once again littered her kisses once more before coming up. Placing a kiss to Y/n's plush lips, but following as it turned into a soft make out.

"Fuck Emily." Y/n laughed. She couldn't help but to think of the moment that just happened. "You definitely had fantasies."

The silver fox shook her head with a smile, laying down and pulling the other into her. "You know how to lure someone in, it's hard not to think of you." She shrugged off her truth. "We still have the rest of the day....can I take you to dinner?"

"Aww, was I not fulfilling for you?" She joked one more time before kissing Emily. "I would very much like dinner with you. But....it looks like I was in a fight and lost..."

Emily sat up and looked down at the other. Scanning over the amount of love bruises that covered her. "That does seem like an issue, you don't have any makeup?" A shake of the head. "Well then I guess we're going on a run to get you makeup and something to cook for the night."

"We're gonna cook? Didn't you almost give someone food poising last time you cooked?" Y/n loved how the idea sounded, she was thrilled. "What'd you have in mind anyways?"

Emily let a nasty smirk take over again, and Y/n could hear the thoughts and laughed. "Something easy. Maybe pasta? Then after....who knows what'll be for desert."

The younger let out another laugh at the implied. "Fine, but I'll make it a deal. We make a video while cooking, and then I'm all yours again. But the video has to get at least 100 likes by the time we finish."

"And if it doesn't?"

Y/n let her smile grow even more, "then you get nothing."

"What?!"

A shrug was her answer, "I don't make the rules." She sighed, glancing to her bathroom. "I could go for a shower, couldn't you?"

Emily looked over to the bathroom as well, taking a second to process what was being implied. "I could, I really could!" The thought to see the woman in her arm dripping with water and soap worked her up all over again.

~

Monday had came again, and the team was back in the bullpen. Enjoying the paper work to the best they could.

Penelope however was walking at a dramatic pace to find Y/n. Eager to know about this weekend that was all over TikTok now. And she came in hot with her phone already being opened. "Y/n! Care to explain?" She shoved the phone in.

Y/n watched the cooking video, smiling at the time they had. "We spent our Saturday together. And maybe our Sunday too but that's all."

Tara laughed enough to let everyone know she was listening. "Cooking doesn't leave a mark on your neck though." She pointed out the hickey right below her ear.

The side eye she received was vicious, "I burnt myself curling my hair."

"Yeah ok," Emily walked in with a knowing smile.

Tara leaned over to JJ, "bet the curling iron was that Prentiss brand."

"All the way up to it seems," the blonde fed the joke. "And what did you cook?"

Y/n sighed, feigning hurt," you don't even follow my account? You've made like a gazillion appearances."

JJ shook her head, "I don't have TikTok. But let me guess, there was a deal within that video that only you two know about?"

Emily came back with her coffee in hand, and another for Y/n. "She didn't win."

Penelope had been standing there shock about how simple they made it seem. "So! What I'm getting is! You two?"

Emily and Y/n shared a secret conversation. Both letting an infectious smile appear, "yeah, us two." They said in union. Too busy getting lost within each other to listen to the blonde jump for joy.

[poppadom0912]

Unexpected

Warnings: Mentions of pregnancy and childbirth

Summary: For nine months, you'd prepared and expected a baby but something unexpected happens.

A/N: Hello! I was back at school this week and have been so drained from the work load so I'm here relaxing and writing away. I only know surface level stuff so I'm sorry for any medical inaccuracies. Exams are next week so I won't be writing anything then. This is unedited and I apologise but please do enjoy!!!!

Four years into your marriage with Kelly, two years with infertility issues, you had come to the point of acceptance and making the possible choice of fostering or adoption.

But then one day you got shot at work and when treating you, the doctor gave you the unexpected news.

You couldn't believe it. You were finally pregnant. After so much struggle, IVF and the unsuccessful tests, you were finally pregnant. You could finally have the family you dreamed of having as a little girl.

You weren't allowed back onto the field. Hank benching you to desk work till your baby welcomed itself. A choice that made you very angsty to get up and be on the move.

You didn't feel like much of a detective being sat at a desk all day while the rest of Intelligence went running around ragged looking and catching bad guys.

So during the moments of peace, you found yourself driving to the firehouse to bother your husband and the people he considered family.

The men and women of 51 loved you as much as they did Kelly, you were one of their own and you were doing the impossible by growing and delivering a mini Kelly Severide into the world.

Kelly rolled his eyes every time you brought up the gender. Call it mothers intuition but you had a gut feeling that you were having a boy, a concept which Kelly didn't mind but thought otherwise.

Refusing to find out the gender, you preferred to watch everyone wait impatiently, their bets pilling up as they put money on your baby's gender.

You scoffed seeing Kim and Hailey 'sneakily' pass money over to Cruz one night at Molly's.

The pregnancy flew by. Small milestones of your belly popping, the first kicks, the weird cravings and watching the growing blob develop on an ultrasound was so surreal but before anyone knew it, you were already hitting the nine month mark.

You left early. Today's case was running late and another murder got called it close to midnight, you were no longer needed and your husband sat at home. The thought of foot massage was ever so enticing.

Said man welcomed you home with the tea that soothed your nausea, your nightly snack at the go and he looked just delicious sitting in his pyjamas.

Pregnancy hormones man. Who would've thought.

And just like every night, the day ended with both of you in bed, his hands gently caressing your ballooning stomach, talking and debriefing with your unborn baby, smiling when a particular comment elicited a kick, showing the imprint on a foot against your skin.

Falling asleep wasn't easy though, especially with the new addition of Braxton hicks. You always found yourself tossing and turning, pushing Kelly to the other side of the bed so you could be left alone with the other love of your life: your pregnancy pillow. The triangular pillow a dream come true.

Eventually, you got up to refill your bottle and water, taking a quick pee because the pressure on your bladder was stupid.

Taking out some ice cubes from the ice tray, you slowly plonked them into your bottle, your eyes heavy with the sleep that refused to come from such a long day at work.

"Baby? Why are you awake?" Kelly's voice was hoarse as he appeared in the kitchen, his hair a mess as he rubbed the sleep away from his eyes.

"Your son is playing football in here. He's already obsessed." You whispered back, letting him recollect himself as he made his way towards you, watching through bleary eyes as you closed the freezer door.

"My son huh? Well I think our daughter is just really excited to meet her very impatient parents." Kelly smirked, his arms circling around your waist before he crouched down to be face level with your protruding stomach.

"Hey baby girl." He whispered, his eyes focused on your stomach and nowhere else. "Your mummy is very tired after working all day. She needs all the sleep before you come home. Do you think you could do me a favour?"

You smiled softly at the sight. Your husband was already smitten and the baby wasn't even here yet.

A few seconds passed and all of a sudden, the little football match came to an end.

You scoffed, looking down at your husband incredulously. "Wow."

Standing back up, Kelly now smiled down at you. "Obviously, I'm the favourite parent."

"Watch it lieutenant." You pouted, poking his chest. "I've got some detectives in my back pocket."

Smiling at each other, basking in the silence and warm lighting, you almost forgot about your sleep deprivation.

Breaking you out of your thoughts was the sound of water dripping, Kelly's face mirroring your thoughts.

"Did you leave the tap on?"

You frowned, you were sure you-

Your mind went blank the millisecond you registered your wet trousers.

Looking down at where your feet would've been had it not been for your stomach being in the way, you swore lightly under your breath.

"I think he interpreted your words differently." You said, looking back up at Kelly who stood astonished.

"Baby's coming today."

*****

You didn't go to the hospital straight away.

Instead, you wiped yourself down and changed clothes while Kelly cleaned up and brought out your already packed hospital bag all while timing the length and time between your contractions.

The sun was rising when you made your way to the hospital, your midwife already in the loop the moment your water broke.

Settling into your room, dressed in your gown, you sighed.

You were bored. What were you supposed to do while you waited for the birth to get into motion.

Your epidural had been confirmed and scheduled for later on when your contractions progressed further. The nurse had just come to measure you before leaving.

You sent a quick text to Hank, apologising for such short notice, saying your maternity leave would start earlier than planned. Kelly had just called Boden, his shift starting not too long ago.

"Boden's got Cruz covering for me." Kelly said, putting his phone in his pocket as he stood by your bedside.

"I'm all yours for the next few weeks."

"I would love you so much if you could just-" You sharply inhaled at the painful contraction, doing the breathing exercises you practised with your midwife. "Just get this baby out."

"How about we go on a walk? Might help speed things up."

All Kelly was met with were your grabby hands.

*****

Several hours later and you were in active labour.

You were surrounded by nurses and the doctor, Kelly glued to your side but at some point when you were pushing, he was ushered away by a nurse who you briefly heard mention the words 'umbilical cord'.

"It's a girl!"

You choked back a sob, your eyes watery as they placed your daughter on your chest for skin-to-skin. Your hands immediately flew to hold her. Your emotions so haywire that you couldn't care less about the cleanliness of her little body.

Inhaling shakily, you looked up through tears at Kelly who was back at your side. He kissed your forehead multiple times, his hand on top of yours so you could both hold your baby.

After a few minutes, she was carefully taken away to be weighed and clean, leaving you and Kelly to revel alone. Reality came crashing down: you had a daughter, your had a-

"Mrs Severide, what's wrong?"

Hearing the doctors question, Kelly looked away from your daughter and back down at you in alarm, his eyes wide in confusion at your own confused face.

"I- I feel..."

You weren't able to finish as you were overcome with the sudden need to push.

It seemed that even without you voicing your thoughts, they knew exactly what was happening.

"Okay Y/N, we go again." The OB said as you squeezed the blood out of Kelly's hand. "Push just like you did."

The next few moments felt like a blur. You weren't too sure what was reality and what was an illusion - everything was happening too fast for you to comprehend what was actually happening.

All of a sudden, a second cry broke out, as loud and high-pitched as the first.

"It's a girl!"

You blinked, your head clearing up.

"Congratulations! Two beautiful girls!"

Then the apparent second baby was placed on your chest, a routine that was just performed not even ten minutes ago.

The tears were flowing now with nothing to stop them. Your shaky hands went to hold her small body as the clouds dissipated and the sky finally cleared.

*****

The two baby beds were rolled towards your bed, Kelly standing up when the nurses entered the recovery room.

"Congratulations mum and dad!" One of the nurses started.

"You have two healthy identical twin girls."

You couldn't believe it, no one could.

There was never a point during the nine months of pregnancy that would even suggest you having twins and now all of a sudden, your leaving the hospital with two twin girls.

You were so lost in your thoughts that you didn't hear Kelly's conversation with the nurses.

"Kelly..." You looked at your husband who was just as shocked as you. "Kelly we have two babies."

"We have twin girls babe." Kelly emphasised, his stupid smile covering his entire face.

"We're not even prepared for one let alone two." You said, sitting up to pick one of them up. "Baby- oh my gosh, we have twins."

Before Kelly could reply, the room door opened and Matt poked his head in. "Knock Knock, can we-"

Matt stopped himself as he laid eyes on the baby on your chest and then the baby that was being picked up by Kelly.

"Matt, move out the way, let me see-" Sylvie barely stopped herself from squealing as she saw the two babies.

"Holy shit, twins?!" Matt half frowned, following Sylvie to your side. "When did this even happen?"

"Literally an hour ago man." Kelly said in greeting to his best friend. "No one had any idea."

"AH- two girls! Congratulations, oh my gosh I'm so happy for you guys." Sylvie gushed, cooing at the little bundles in your arms.

"Oh yeah, Jay and Hailey were somewhere behind us."

Another knock sounded just as the words came from Matt, the door creaking open for the blonde detective to make herself known.

"Y/N, hey-" Hailey gasped so loudly that Jay's swearing could be heard from inside the room.

"Woah." Jay's lack of words proved his surprise.

You and Kelly laughed.

"Well Kelly was right, they're girls."

Jay and Sylvie high-fived, their smirks making it evident they were on the winning side of the bet.

"This is definitely unexpected. I have no idea how we're going to manage." You said, handing one baby off to Hailey while Kelly lay the other into Matt's outstretched arms.

"That's what we're here for, along with the rest of 51 and Intelligence." Sylvie said, looking fondly at the baby in Matt's arms as she held your hand in both of hers comfortingly.

"You've got a very big family ready to help. We're first responders, it's our job."

You hugged the blonde, overcome with sudden emotion.

"Besides," Jay spoke up, gently taking the baby from Hailey's arms into his. "What godparents would we be?"

The room dissolved into laughter.

You had two adorable girls and an entire village at your beck and call. While unexpected, they were more than welcome with open arms and open hearts.

[stupidsexygrizzop]

can't believe dylan beat shrek

long solo night shift you know what that means!!!!! listening to all of nine til midnight in empty buildings 🕺

[the-froschamethyst4]

Lazy Fun

➤Day 6

𖤐Pairing: Husband! König x Wife! F! Reader

𖤐Pronouns: She/Her

𖤐Warnings: Smut. NSFW, married couple, smoking, language, boob grabbing, ass smacking, hand job, blowjob, Sixty-Nine, eating out, biting, teasing, spanking, P in V, badly translated German

𖤐Summary: König had woken up a little bit horny and needs some help from his girlfriend Y/n, who was asleep next to him, he wanted to fuck her while she was asleep and have his fun

——————

——————

6:30AM

König had woken up a little early then he'd like to. He laid on his back looking up at the ceiling, rubbing his tired eyes, and ran his fingers through his messy hair.

He let out another yawn before getting up from his shared bed. He opened his nightstand drawer and pulled out his cigarette box and pulled one out, he also grabbed his lighter and headed outside to the balcony and lit one.

He had the door open as he sat on one of the chairs and looked out at the sun raising.

He was still very tired. He turned his head and looked back at his wife asleep on her side of the bed. He looked down at his crotch, he looked back up and smirked at her still asleep and put his cigarette out.

He grabbed his lighter and headed back inside and he placed his lighter back into the open drawer. König removed his sweatpants till he was in his black boxers and got back under the covers.

Y/n, his wife felt his strong arms wrapped around her waist and shoulders. She signed into his touch and König kissed her temple.

"Liebling (sweetheart)," he mumbles.

"Hm?" She hums still half asleep.

"I need to release."

"What does that mean?" She mumbles into his forearm.

"You know?" He slowly pushes against her. Her eyes widened at what he means now.

"B-But I'm exhausted," she whines as she looked over her shoulder to look at him.

"I know...let me do all the work, liebe (love) you just need to relax," he coos.

"K-König," she stutters before he sat up and removed his boxers, Y/n rolled onto her stomach, her arms under her pillow, and she looked over her shoulder again.

She looked down at his crotch, his bulge just between her ass. She turned back and looked at the headboard of the bed. Her right hand gripped her pillow.

She felt him remove her shorts and panties just leaving her in the oversized t-shirt that was König's shirt.

He grabbed his boxers and removed them. He pushed himself inside of her and started to thrust deep inside of her, she gasped at the sudden feeling in her stomach.

He started to move fast as Y/n gripped the pillow even tighter, her knuckles turning white as he smirked behind her and leaned forward grabbing her boobs from under the shirt, she was wearing. She moaned at him squeezing them and pinching at her harden nipples.

She slammed her face into her pillow muffling her moans and she bit the fabric of her pillowcase.

König and Y/n haven't had sex in a while. König was busy going on deployment and they both didn't have time to do it. Y/n had work in the morning and in the afternoon/night would go out with her friends.

König only came home around midnight every day. This was the only time he had a day off and he's glad his day is starting off like this. Lazy sex with his wife.

König placed his hands on the bed beside her as he thrusted faster and sloppier. She positioned her butt to help him, and he just barely missed her g-spot.

She moaned his name as she gripped the pillowcase. Y/n looked over her shoulder at him and he just smirked giving her a peck on the lips before slamming into her harder and deeper earning a loud and sweet moan from her.

"K-König," she stutters.

"Just a couple more, liebe (love), I'm almost there anyways," he groans as he sat up, sitting on his knees, his right hand rested on her ass, he watched her eyes roll to the back of her head.

"Ahh~" she let out a soft moan as she felt a knot in her stomach. König's hand smacked her ass and gripped at her butt.

She buried her face back into the pillowcase and felt herself coming. He pulled out and his cum leaked from his tip onto her lower back. He watched the cum leak from her clit. He licked his lips before getting up to the bathroom and grabbing a rag to clean her up.

She sat up and looked down at her hands on the bedsheets. She heard König come back into the bedroom.

"Okay, mein liebling (my love)," he said as she looked up at his tall frame.

"King."

"Ja (yes)?"

"I wanna make you feel good, now."

"What? No, no, it's okay, liebe (love) I don't need to feel good, we just got done having sex, aren't you tired like you said you were?"

"I was...but now...I wanna treat you like you treated me; you don't have to put any effort in...I'll do all the work while you relax," she said as she crawled to the edge of the big King size bed.

König held the rag and looked a little confused at her, he let out a sign and caved in.

"Okay, okay, okay," he repeats.

He drops the rag and crawls on his side of the bed. He lays down on his back, arms behind his head as Y/n crawled over to him and bent down kissing his lips. His left hand went behind her head deepening the kiss. Her left hand traveled downward to his dick that was...soft.

She moved her hand up and down getting it hard again, he moans into the kiss. She moves her fingers to his tip and felt the precum leak from his tip.

She then pulled away from the kiss and looked down at his dick, she saw how harden he was now. She smirks and leans forward kissing his tip and smirked as she heard him groan.

"Schätzchen (honey)," König moans.

"Am I doing something wrong?" She asks, looking up at him.

"N-No, keep going," he says as he right hand went to her cheek. König knew how Y/n could be innocent with her words but her actions...König gets terrified, she's like a sadist with her actions.

She turned back and moved her hand back up and down, she watched as his hips jerked up and the pre-cum continued to leak from his tip.

She leaned back and took his dick into her mouth, he groaned and thrusted up into her moan, she moaned vibrating around his cock making him moan.

"O-Oh my g-god," he moans.

She then removed her mouth and then got on him. He looked at get on his stomach and her mouth went back around his cock, he then leaned forward licking between her folds. She moans around his dick, and he pushed his hips up making her gag on his dick.

She felt him smirk as he now started to nibble at her bud and licked her again. He shoved his tongue inside of her, she moans and started to bobbed her head up and down.

König groans as he started to push his tongue in and out of her. Her tongue swirled all around his dick, licking his shaft and then licking his tip, licking the pre-cum off.

She kept going till he bucked up again and came inside her mouth, she then came into his mouth, he removed his mouth from her clit and leaned back hitting his head against the soft pillow, mouth full of cum.

Y/n swallowed the cum that was in her mouth, König let out a sign of satisfaction and sat up looking at his wife who was still on his lower stomach.

"Should we clean up?" She asked, looking over her shoulder.

"Yeah," he smirks.

Y/n got off him and he sat up but picked Y/n up instead and took her to the bathroom turning on the hot shower.

---------

12:15PM

König sat on the couch on Y/n's soft thighs, he was watching his TV show as Y/n was on her phone looking at random TikTok's that popped up on her 'For You Page'.

König looked up at Y/n, she didn't look down at him, she just played with his hair. He turned back and grabbed her soft thigh and she bit into her thigh.

"AH! König!!" She shouts.

"What?" He chuckles.

"Don't what me. why did you do that?"

"Because your thighs were just BEGGINING to be bitten," he teases.

She grabs the thigh he bit and looked at it sees a perfect bitemark on her inner thigh. "Seriously?" She says.

"Yep," he licks his bottom lip and tried to bite her other thigh, but she quickly moved away from him and ran to the kitchen. König chased after her and they played around the little counter island in the middle of the kitchen. König jumped on the counter and ran across it chasing after Y/n again through the entire house till he caught her.

"THAT WAS SO UNFAIR!" She yells as she was being held by König and he plopped on the couch.

[hazz-a-bear]

FOODS FOR WORMS, wen junhui

♡⸝⸝ loving junhui comes to you as easy as breathing. so it's only right that you love him with everything you've got till you're nothing but foods for worms to eat.

.ᐟ fluff. comfort. junhui cries and he should never cry, especially on his birthday. very mild soonyoung slander because he's an alleged furry.

🎧 everywhere, everything - noah kahan, gracie abrams

A/N - This is a love letter to Wen Junhui and nothing less, nothing more. I hope he receives all the love he deserves not only on his birthday, but for the rest of his life <3

masterlist | taglist

The tenth of June was probably one of the most special days for you.

It was circled with a red marker on the calendar on top of your desk, there was a permanent countdown on your phone leading up to the day and it was also the sequence of numbers that acted as the password to all kinds of devices you owned.

Which, now that you think about it, is probably the most predictable thing and also the reason Soonyoung keeps getting access to your wifi from a five-mile radius of your apartment. But even after years and years of using it, you still haven't gotten the heart to change it. Not even when your internet provider, very concerningly, handed you a bill of your rising wifi charges and a list of browsing history you were honestly too scared to look at.

( You should probably ask him about the context of 'Help I accidentally started a cult' and 'Is it illegal to own a pet tiger?' but it's Soonyoung, so you're sort of glad you never did )

( It's still not as bad as 'Am I a furry if I pretend to be a tiger around people?' though, you have to agree )

The moral of the story is surprisingly not the fact that you should change your wifi password from 100696 so your boyfriend's best friend can't easily feed off of the service that you pay for with your money. ( For diabolical reasons that is, by the way )

The actual moral of the story, however: June 10th is a special day.

Junhui likes to call it his birthday. You like to call it his heritage day, his womb escape anniversary and the day that gave the world what would be the best gift of your entire life.

The fascinatingly beautiful being that is Wen Junhui was created nine months prior and was grazed upon this earth on the 10th of June.

Okay, that's a weird way to put it.

It's Junhui's birthday.

And you are anything but normal about it.

As always, the celebrations start on June 1st itself. You wake him up with a celebratory birth-month breakfast consisting of his favorites - pancakes with blueberries for eyes and a whipped cream smile for a mouth. Junhui gets up every year with a shy smile and a 'Sweetheart, you didn't have to do this' knowing damn well you're not going to be stopped from celebrating him at any point.

The two of you usually stay up the day before his actual birthday. Curling up on the couch with a show on the TV, it's tradition for the two of you to just rest and enjoy the silent night.

This time, Junhui saunters up to you just as you're finishing cleaning up the kitchen after dinner on the ninth of June. With a coy smile, he pulls you into the living room before sitting down next to you on the couch, quickly draping all over you and finding his comfort spot tucked into your side.

As some kind of show plays in the background, you pull him impossibly close to you. Between zoning out and focusing on the plot of the show, you press small fluttering kisses to the crown of his head. Junhui preens and leans into you like a cat, chasing the press of your lips with a tilt of his head. When you pull away at some point, he turns to you with the smallest pout on his lips.

The two of you spend the majority of the night like that, basking in each other's warmth and counting the minutes leading up to the second the clock strikes midnight.

And when it finally does and your phone chimes with a buzzing alarm to announce that yes, the day that you've been counting down is finally here, you turn to him.

Junhui knows the drill so he easily goes when you shift him to face you. There's a hint of a smile pulling at his lips because he knows what's coming.

The clock reads, ⩇⩇:⩇⩇

"It's your womb escape anniversary" Your voice is nothing above a whisper because the two of you are that close already.

"You're never going to stop calling it that, are you?" He sighs but he's clearly trying to hide a grin as he does.

"Never" You shake your head before you bring up a hand to gently cradle his face.

You let yourself stare shamelessly at the face of the man you've loved for what feels like an eternity.

"Happy Birthday, my love" You let the back of your fingers caress the soft skin of his cheeks. "Thank you for letting me share all your days"

Junhui smiles before he brings up a hand to wrap around your wrist. He tilts his head to press his lips to your palm before he holds it close and peers into you with his eyes that you fall in love with every day.

"Thank you"

When you lean in to kiss him, it's all slow and languid, much like the love the two of you share. There's nothing urgent about it, just a continuous press of fluttering lips like you're breathing each other into your lungs. You hold him by the back of his neck, fingers tangling in the fabric of his t-shirt as he presses his lips to yours in a final kiss.

"I love you"

"I love you more", comes out easier than breathing.

On the day of his birthday, usually, the two of you would get an off day to spend the day by yourselves doing whatever Junhui's heart desired.

The year before last, he wanted to go to the Ghibli Studio Museum. The trip, no matter how impromptu or unplanned it was, had been one of the best trips you've ever been. More than the shops, the rides or seeing all the characters from your favorite movies, what made you happy was the sight of Junhui running around the place with twinkling eyes, a beaming smile on his lips and a stuffed Totoro tucked under his arm.

Last year, he very cheekily asked if he could go to one of those build-a-bear showrooms and you were getting in the car as fast as you could, driving to the place at god's speed with Junhui beaming happily in the passenger seat. Totoro from Tokyo gained two new brothers that day - a rainbow bear Jun had named 'Sir Bear the II' and a brown bear you very confidently decided to call not Dirt but 'Durt'

This year, everything was usual from the birth-month breakfast in bed to the mandatory birthday shenanigans Junhui decided to be a part of. But when you'd asked him what kind of adventure he'd like to take on the day itself, Junhui had very carefully sat you down on the edge of the bed with his hands lacing yours.

"Will you believe me if I said I just want to spend the time with you?"

You swear your brain short-circuited for a moment before you managed to kick-start back into reality, asking him what he's trying to say. He had been so sweet as he explained how exhausted he was after all the work he'd been buried under recently. Moving back and forth through countries, doing an ungodly amount of work and on the edge of a teetering peak of his career, he cast his eyes down as he asked you,

"I want to stay home this time, spend the day with you. Just us two, is that okay?"

Not that you were going to, but how can you ever say no to a man ( a child in disguise ) with big brown eyes and a pout that can make you kill for him.

"Of course it's okay. It's your day angel, we're celebrating you. We can stay at home, of course." You had assured him "But there must be something fun that you want to do, no? You can't spend your birthday stuck at home with me all day. That'll get boring, Junnie"

"Never"

So that is what led you to this situation - slipping out of bed at six in the morning to quietly make your way into the living room.

In hopes of not disturbing Junhui who's still curled up on his side, soft hair falling to his face as he sleeps, you grab your clothes and make your way to the guest washroom to get ready for the day.

Once you're done with your shower, you pad into the kitchen to start breakfast. The pancake mix had been sitting in the fridge already so you turn on the stove before pulling out a batch of berries you'd picked up from the market yesterday. And as quietly and fast as you could, you get the signature pancakes with blueberry eyes and whipped cream smiles done before he wakes up.

It's almost seven when you're cleaning up the kitchen, the plate of breakfast sitting on the counter next to a large gift bag and a pink envelope addressed to my moon.

My moon,

Hi, my angel. By the time you find this, I'd probably be out of the house. If not I'm probably hiding behind the couch but don't look for me there. I know you don't like waking up to an empty house but I promise love, I'm just out to get you some flowers. That's an excuse for you know I can't stand the sight of you even slightly sad and that's why I ran.

But I'll be back with your flowers before you even realize I'm gone, okay? Don't worry too much pretty boy.

You know that I'm not good with words, Jun, that's why I'm writing a letter in the first place. If only I had the guts to say all this to your face. Because you deserve nothing else, baby, nothing else. But I'm a coward when it comes to voicing out my love to you so here I am in the kitchen at three in the morning, two glasses of wine deep because I'm scared I'll mess this up if I'm sober or if it's not dark outside.

So, it's your birthday today - and no matter how many times you ask me to be normal about it and not call it your womb escape anniversary and make a whole scene - you know I'm going to

When else am I going to celebrate you, my Jun?

You know that if I could, I would, everyday for the rest of my life. Because you deserve nothing less than that.

Sometimes you say that you don't deserve me, or that I'm too good for you. And it makes me so sad because, Jun, what you don't realize is how lucky I am to have you in my life. If anything, I'm not good enough for you.

When I met you years ago, you still in your bleached hair, I never thought for a moment that you'd be the person I'd want to spend the rest of my life with. Not because I never saw you as someone I'd want to share my life with, but rather because how? How in the world can I call you, the kindest, the prettiest and the most beautiful soul I've ever met, mine.

Every single day that I wake up to you lying next to me, I thank the moon for bringing you to me. I don't know what good I'd done in my past life to have this kind of love, have you in my life.

I hadn't realised something was missing from my life till you showed up in front of me, Jun. With your silly little smile and your pretty face and the bounce in your step, you slowly opened the door to a world I had never even known to exist before. I hadn't realised what it meant to love until you came along angel.

I thought I'd been in love, before, you know? I thought love was fancy dinners in restaurants I couldn't afford for a night. I thought love was kisses that you share for the whole world to see. I thought it was going our my way to make myself better for someone else.

But, no.

You're the one who showed me that love is the 'good morning' you mumble around a toothbrush, the leftovers you put in the microwave for me, the sticky notes on the fridge, sending pictures of the sky even if it looks ordinary, the hair tie you keep around your wrist. Love is the way you follow me around the house, the way I cling to you when I come home. Love is putting a blanket on me when I fall asleep on the couch. Love is raising little pixel babies and running a shop in cats & soup.

I think loving you is the easiest thing I have ever done, Junhui. It comes to me as natural as breathing. I didn't need a handler or a guidebook to learn how to love you - actually, I don't think I learned at all. Loving you was so easy that I didn't even realize I did. I didn't realize how much I loved you until I thought about losing you.

You asked me once what my biggest fear was and I said heights because I'm a coward like that. But in truth, a life without you is my biggest fear, I think. Now that I have you, now that I've gotten a taste of what being loved by you feels like, I don't think I'll ever want to let you go. I'm scared I'll never want to let you go. I hope you never want to let me go either, my love. I don't think I'll ever be okay with that.

People like you and me, we don't let ourselves have nice things, Jun. We think it's a burden to be loved, to love. We think it's too much to want to be held and cared for. We think we don't deserve to be loved. But we do. We can have that, my love. You, me, we all deserved to be loved gently. We all deserve the impromptu flowers and the good night message and the 'I love you's. It's hard to not listen to the tiny voice in the back of your head saying you don't deserve this, but you do, Junhui. You deserve to be loved for your soul if not much more.

As much as you don't believe me when I say you're the best thing that happened to me, deep down we both know that each other is what keeps us grounded, we both know. You keep me afloat, Junhui. When I feel like a ship wrecked in the middle of the ocean, you're the one who keeps me afloat and guides me to the shore. You might not know it or not believe it, but without you, I'd be falling apart.

Without me, I believe you would be okay. Manage. But ultimately, I wouldn't be okay without you.

So, as selfish as it sounds, I'm going to let myself have this one thing for the rest of my life. I'm going to keep you next to my heart and love you for as long as you let me have you.

Selfishly, I can only ask you to do the same. Love me as long as you can, keep me in your heart for as long as you can, my moon.

Happy Birthday, angel. I love you for an eternity.

From earth, to the moon, underwater, on shore, with every star in the galaxy, I will love you with everything I have till we're foods for the worms to eat.

Yours forever.

You knew it was going to make him cry, you knew. That's one of the main reasons you left the house with an excuse to get flowers. You could have gotten the goddamn flowers delivered to your doorstep. Hell, you could have even done it yesterday. But if there was anything you hated, it was seeing Junhui cry. So running away with a flimsy excuse seemed like the best thing to do at the time.

Junhui knew it too - how much it pained you to see him cry. He also knew that it had taken a lot out of you to write that letter. You've never been comfortable with professing your feelings into words and voicing them upright. You showed your love through random gifts thrown his way with a shy 'saw this and thought about you' or occasional 'did you eat?' messages throughout the day that translated into a quiet I love you.

Your love was quiet, but it was strong.

It seeps from you and circles around his whole being, holding him tight until he's grounded to the very earth he stands on. It kept him whole, kept him together.

So this, writing down everything on your mind, two drinks in or not, he knows it must have taken a lot out of you. And the mere thought of you sitting in the kitchen with your head in your hands, trying to turn your feelings into words, destroyed him.

He knows he should have stopped crying when he hears the familiar sound of the front door opening. You're back. You're back and god, he needs to get himself together.

"Jun?"

You call out and he can hear the hesitance in your voice. You know he's read the letter and it breaks him to realize that you're probably nervous to face him after such a vulnerable pour of emotions. He wishes he could stop crying but it's so so hard when the words on the paper made him feel like he got stabbed in the heart. And the way some words were blotched in a way only tears could do, twister the knife in the wound even more.

So, here he is now, bleeding on the kitchen counter because he feels loved more than he has ever felt in his entire life of twenty-eight years.

"Jun"

You stand in front of him, lingering in the kitchen door as your face falls at the sight of him. He guesses he doesn't look his best right now. He's bracing himself up against the counter, trying not to fall even more apart as his fingers grip the letter. Valid.

He can't even answer you, let alone acknowledge you. He's still trying to stop his crying and failing miserably right in front of you.

Junhui watches as you carefully approach him with the bouquet you had brought home for him. It's a mix of daisies and baby's breath wrapped in a see-through paper and Junhui thinks it's so pretty. If he wasn't so preoccupied with his sobbing, he would have bounced up to you and accepted it with a big smile and a kiss on your cheek.

"You're crying" Junhui almost laughs as you blindly state the obvious. Your eyes are wide as you reach him, the bouquet still in your clutch. "Why are you crying"

"You're the one who made me cry" He says through his tears, tone accusatory. "This letter- what you wrote, yn it's- It's so...I don't even know- god"

With the force he throws himself at you, he's surprised you manage to stay upright. Junhui curls around your body, arms winding around your frame as he pushes his face to your neck. You can feel the way your skin dampens with his tears.

Carefully putting down the bouquet on the counter, you circle your arms around his shoulders and pull him into your embrace a little tighter.

"I didn't want to cry on my birthday" Junhui whispers, lips fluttering against your skin.

I'm sorry. "I'm not sorry, Jun"

You feel him still in your hold for a fleeting moment before he pulls back to look at your face.

"I'd wanted to say all that for a long time, Jun" You say as you bring a hand up to cradle his face. As always, he leans into it like a preening cat. "I'm sorry for making you cry. But I'm not sorry for anything I said"

Junhui lurches forward to hide his face again, another one of those heartbreaking sobs on the tip of his tongue. You hold him tighter, if it's even possible, as he breaks down on you. One hand rubbing comforting circles on his back, moving the both of you back and forth in a rhythm, you hold him until he's calmed down enough to breathe through his nose. When he pulls away this time, his face is crumpled in a kind of embarrassment and shyness.

"Oh, my baby" You can't help but coo at the sight of his flushed nose and damp eyes. "You're a wreck"

"Your fault" Junhui grumbles before bringing up a hand to wipe at his eyes. You chuckle as you cradle his face and wipe away the tears clinging to his cheek.

"Happy Birthday" You almost whisper, holding his face in the palms of your hand. "You look beautiful"

Junhui averts his eyes from yours, the shyness slithering up his spine at a rapid speed. He doesn't voice out his thank you but it shows in the way the tips of his ears turn red under wisps of soft brown hair.

"Oh- the flowers" You quickly move to pick up the bouquet from the counter. With a coy smile of your own, you hand it to Junhui who takes it with a smile and a soft,

"Thank you. They're so pretty"

Junhui is taller than you, so to land the kiss perfectly square on his forehead, you have to reach up on your tiptoes. Junhui laughs and ducks down when he realizes what you're trying to do. Lifting to hold him by the neck, you press your lips against his forehead.

Junhui only pulls you back in after putting away the bouquet. He takes you by the waist before leaning down to catch your lips with his, pressing forward and dripping honey sweet pure love onto you with a sealed kiss. Your hands cradle the back of his neck as he leans forward, tipping you ever so slightly backwards as his love bleeds through every press of his lips against yours.

Even when he pulls away to breathe, he keeps his forehead pressed to yours, holding you as close as he possibly could.

"I love you so much" You whisper. "I think I made that clear in the letter"

Junhui laughs before pulling you into a hug again. A proper one this time with your face pressed to his shoulder and his lips pressing kisses to the crown of your head.

Your fingers unconsciously grip the back of his shirt tightly like you're scared he'll disappear into the day before you. It makes him think back to what you're written on the letter. About how your biggest fear is a life without him. How you won't be able to live if you didn't have him.

And it makes Junhui come to a realisation of his own. Ultimately, he wouldn't be okay without you either.

Thinking back to how you had claimed you're going to keep holding on to him as long as you can, as selfish as it may sound, Junhui realises that yeah, this is what love means to him. This is the sole reason he's been standing for so long.

Even though there's still a voice in the back of his head screaming that he doesn't deserve this kind of love, he decides that yes, he's going to let himself have this. The pure need to selfishly love you for the rest of your lives overpowers whatever voice screaming at him anyway.

From earth, to the moon, underwater, on shore, with every star in the galaxy, he's going to hold on to this for as long as he can bear. Because there's nothing more he wants than to love you with everything he's got. All until you're food for the worms to eat.

Junhui, true to your words, very selfishly hopes that you keep his hands in yours and your heart in his until your fingers decompose.

For you're his forever as well.

thank you.

[revasserium]

butterfly lovers opla zoro screaming crying throwing up

butterfly lovers

opla!zoro; 7,106 words; fluff, kind of childhood friends to lovers, slowburn af, nsfw, pron with TOO MUCH plot, opla!canon divergence, ships doctor!reader, fem!reader, riding, "good girl", emotional sex

summary: yours and zoro's story, from two different perspectives.

a/n: @halfvalid this is ur fault. take responsibility pls. also the smut is literally just one part of a larger story, but it does actually get explicit so. do with that info what u will u__u.

false start.

most good stories, scholars and storytellers would both agree, have a beginning, a middle, and an end. though, famously, not necessarily in that order. and this particular story — well, it has several places one might call the beginning. and one of them is here — in shimotsuki village, in a patch of rich green forest that always smelled of cedar and moss and earth.

it would be a lie to say that the story begins here, at a doujou where eight year old boys and nine year old girls swing wooden swords hundreds of thousands of times each day. where you’d seen zoro for the very first time.

the story could have started here, but alas, it did not.

because you see, you’d never been great, or even particularly good at swordsmanship. and zoro — zoro was one of the best. even from the beginning, his raw, unfettered talent was a force to be reckoned with. but the reckoning came in the form of the doujou sensei’s blue-haired daughter, and you were no more part of zoro’s story then than a drop of ink in a midnight ocean — lost to the tumultuous waves of childhood tedium, of sword practice and sparring, of warm up laps and cool down stretches.

but you’d known him then, watched him as he grew, as he got better and better and better. bigger, stronger, quicker, sharper. and beside him was kuina, steady as the shifting tides, relentless in her efficacy, tireless in her craft. he was good, but she was better.

until one day, when very suddenly, she wasn’t.

the story, as it is, does not start here, because you’d made the solemn walk to kuina’s funeral altar with the rest of the students at the doujou in complete silence, had knelt there in equal silence and watched as sensei had bestowed the wadou ichimonji upon zoro, watched as he had gripped the sword with both hands, his knuckles going white as the sword’s moon-washed sheath, and bowed his head in acceptance.

it does not start here because later, instead of following the same, silent procession of kids back to the doujou’s main compound, you’d slipped away, silent as a shadow, and sprinted through the wide, cedar forest to a secret, open patch of grass where the sun bled from a stretch of endless sky blue enough to sting, and tiny little white-petaled flowers had sprung from the still-damp earth, turning their faces towards the coming spring.

you’d run, screaming through the field till you’d run out of breath to scream with, and collapsed among the tiny white flowers, panting and staring up at the endless blue sky, feeling the helplessness pulse through your veins. because even though kuina hadn’t been your friend — you’d exchanged perhaps a handful of words in all the years you’d spent here — she’d been a constant presence in your life. and now, she was gone. and there was nothing you could do to stop it.

you laid there for longer than you can remember, and then, as the sun finally dipped beyond the far horizon and the darkness grew longer than the sea was wide, you got up and trudged towards the clearing’s edge. only to find a small creature huddled against the trunk of a thin sapling tree — it looked like nothing more than a bundle of white-spotted fur, and it took you a long moment to realize that it was a fawn, curled into a pile of gnarled roots, shivering, eye wet and wide and terrified.

you blinked, staring at it for a few seconds before you’d noticed the gash on it’s hind leg, jutting out at an uncomfortable angle. your heart had stuttered inside your chest, and you’d dropped down to your hands and knees, cooing softly as you slowly approached the creature, trying to look as unmenacing as possible.

“hey there… are you hurt?” you’d said, crawling towards it, trying very hard to make your movements as slow and smooth as possible.

the fawn shivered as it stares at you, apparently caught between sheer terror and curiosity. you tried to smile, before digging into your pockets and pulling out a handful of peanuts, offering them to the fawn on an open palm.

“c’mon, i’m not gonna hurt you… i just wanna take a look… at that leg of yours, can i do that?” you’d asked, inching in closer and closer until the fawn’s warm, wet nose dug into your palm, it’s smooth-edged teeth grazing your skin as it crunched through the peanuts. you took the chance to glance down at it’s injured leg — it wasn’t a deep wound, but judging by the angle, it was a bit dislocated and would need to be set back right if the fawn was ever going to walk again.

slowly, you reached out a free hand to gently stroke at the fawns haunches, feeling it’s muscles tense up beneath you, even as it continues to snuffle against your palm, eager for any remnants of the peanut shells. you ran your hand along it’s leg and quick as a flash, you pressed against the odd jutting of bone, even as it snapped back into place with a satisfying crack.

the fawn made a shrill, screeching noise, jerking to its feet, but a moment later, it seemed to realize that it’s leg was no longer hurting. you held up both your hands in what you hoped was a calming gesture before tugging out a few more peanuts holding it out as an offering.

the fawn blinks it’s dark, watery eyes at you a few times before limping forward to dig its nose once more into your palm. you allowed yourself a smile then, and a soft relieved laugh as the fawn limped forward a few more steps, testing the weight of it’s body on its newly repaired leg. it looked more confident now, seemingly realizing that the wound was somewhat fixed, and it gave you one last, lingering look before it bounded off back into the sunset forest, leaving you with nothing more than a handful of peanut shells and a tightness in your chest you can’t quite seem to put your finger on.

you’d snuck back into the doujou that evening, smelling of mud and moss and cedar, and you’d lain in your futon, staring up at the high slatted ceilings, streaked with moonlight, wondering where on earth you truly belonged.

the next morning, everyone woke to neatly a folded futon and a wooden training katana, the hilt carved with your name, laid across your pillow.

so you see, the story could have started here. but it didn’t. and perhaps we should be thankful for that.

the cost of ambition.

the story, as we know it, starts then at the baratie, on the morning after a meal was eaten and not properly paid for, after an ill-fated duel between a boy with a mouthful of ambitions and a man who’d forgotten what it felt like to be truly surprised. well, he was surprised that morning, watching the boy fall back with a gash the size of the world spurting blood across the docks.

“grow strong,” he’d said, “and come find me.”

and it starts, when a pirate in a straw hat comes crashing into the baratie’s kitchen, shouting about a dying friend.

“help! help! zoro�� zoro needs a doctor!”

“whoa, whoa, slow down, chore boy — i can’t understand a word you’re saying,” zeff holds up a hand to stem luffy’s panicked rambling.

“my friend is dying…”

“the nearest doctor’s on the conomi islands —”

“wait, no —” sanji frowns, cutting zeff off, “lemme look at the reservations from last night —” he hurries off to the front desk and returns with a thick leather bound volume, flipping it open to scan through the seating chart for the night before.

“i knew it!” he says, pointing at a name written in deep, ocean blue ink, “there — her! i’ve heard of her — she’s the best ship’s doctor in the east blue, and if i’m not much mistaken, her ride’s not due to leave till this afternoon.”

“great! c’mon — we haven’t got time to lose!” luffy says as he rushes out of the kitchens, leaving sanji and zeff to exchange an exasperated look before following after.

they find you on the loading docks, your nose buried in a notebook, your hand flying across the page, ink smudging your unrolling sleeve.

“please! we need a doctor! my friend — zoro — he’s dying!”

you jerk up from your notes, the name ringing in your ears like an alarm bell, rocking through your body like the base boom of a signal flare. zoro? here?

you look around even as luffy makes his way to you, pressing in too close, a hand on top of his head to keep his hat from flying away, the other curling around your upper arm.

“w-wait — what’s going on? did you say someone was dying?”

“yes! my friend! he got into a fight with this warlord guy and now he’s bleeding from everywhere —”

“show me,” you say, lurching to your feet and shouldering your leather knapsack, pursing your lips as your vision threatens to tunnel ahead of you. zoro. it’s been such a long time since you’d heard that name. sure, you’d heard of his exploits in the east blue. how could you not have?

demon, bounty, pirate hunter. hunter, hunter, hunter —

you take a deep breath as luffy leads you onto the deck of the going merry and ducks below, motioning for you to follow.

when you step into the room, you don’t notice the orange-haired girl or the long-nosed boy, instead, your eyes are drawn to the body on the kitchen table as a magnet would a compass rose. his shirt torn into barely more than ribbons, a large red gash oozing blood, bisecting his torso like some unbridgeable canyon in miniature, his skin paler than you’d ever remembered it being, sweat beading his flickering brow —

oh, zoro…

you resist the urge to press your hand to your mouth. so instead, you swallow back your heart and try to assess the damage. massive blood loss, possible head trauma, and who knows what else?

“you said a warlord with a giant sword did this?” you ask, hurrying to the table and frowning down at the gaping wound.

“y-yeah — he — he had a big hat with a white feather on it —” luffy starts.

“mihawk. his name was dracule mihawk,” the orange-haired girl cuts in, her voice sharp and a bit too forced to be steady, “he told zoro to get stronger, and that… it wasn’t his time to die yet.”

you grimace, chewing on your bottom lip as you dump your supplies unceremoniously onto the countertop next to him, digging out the necessities.

“well, he wasn’t lying — the cut’s clean and judging by the size… he could’ve cut much deeper. but he didn’t,” you sigh, absently rolling up your sleeves as you pull out a hooked suture needle and a length of thread.

they watch you work in silence, first cleaning the wound, and then slowly, painstakingly pinching and stitching him back together. by the end of it, you’re nearly dizzy with exhaustion, and the sky outside has already turned a deep, bruising purple.

you sigh, wiping down your hands.

“can someone go and ask the waiter for a fish? any fish’ll do, but the fresher, the better. oh, and a bottle of scotch.”

“got it!” the boy with the long nose bolts up and is gone in a flash.

you slump down into a nearby chair and let your head loll back. a moment later, you feel someone pressing a glass into your hand and open your eyes to find the orange-haired girl holding a glass of water.

“here… you looked like you could use it.”

“thanks,” you say, taking a grateful gulp.

“i’m nami, by the way… thanks for —” she waves at the shape of zoro still on the kitchen table, “and that one over there is luffy. the guy that just left is usopp and —” her breath catches as her eyes fall back onto zoro’s form.

“i know who he is,” you say, your voice quiet as you look down at the glass clutched in your hands.

“you know zoro?” luffy’s voice is loud, but not unpleasantly so.

you glance up and feel the truth pulsing against the back of your throat like a heartbeat. then, you shake your head with a soft smile.

“i mean, he’s got quite the reputation.”

luffy lets out a laugh, “yeah! he sure does — he’s a great fighter! probably one of the best i’ve ever seen!”

you nod, staring at the sloshing liquid in the bottom of your glass.

a few moments later, usopp returns with sanji in tow, holding a bottle of scotch in one hand and a dead fish in the other.

“you’d better have a good reason for this,” he says, his expression grim, “zeff’s not gonna be happy when he finds these gone.”

you force a smile, “well, i can promise that at least one of those things’ll be put to good use — can you just skin the fish for me, please?”

sanji frowns, “and the scotch?”

you glance around before shrugging, “i don’t know about you guys but… i think we could all use a drink.”

the cliche of the morning after.

when zoro wakes up the first time, it’s to a world-muffling quiet. he coughs, uncertain of where he is, his head throbbing, his chest feeling too light and too heavy all at once.

“oh! you’re awake — here… have some water. you’ll need it.”

he hears the voice, both familiar and foreign, and then, he feels the cool press of a glass against his lips.

he gulps down the water greedily before pain rockets through him and he lets out a loud groan.

“i… i had a dream…” he says, his head spinning, the words slurring from him, and for a second, he wonders if he’d just been fed alcohol instead of water, but the pain seizes him again and he can’t stop talking.

“yeah? what did you dream about?” the familiar, foreign voice asks, soothing, as a cold palm presses against his forehead.

“shimotsuki village… i — i made a promise. i told her — i’d be the greatest… swordsman…”

his voice is fading, and the world is fading with it.

“yeah… you did, huh? and i’m sure you’ll fulfill it, one day…”

zoro sighs, sinking gratefully into the warm, welcoming arms of darkness once more.

“but not today,” you say, reaching out to wipe the sweat from zoro’s brow, your voice so soft that you’re sure no one else can hear, “today… you just need to keep on living. and that’s the greatest promise you could ever make to me.”

smooth sailing.

when he wakes up proper, you aren’t there to greet him. but he doesn’t miss the shape of you as they all pile onto the merry to go looking for nami. he doesn’t miss sanji’s too-wide grin or the unpleasant, burning itch that shoots through his healing wound as he watches the cook ask you about your favorite foods.

he keeps quiet for the most part, but you find him still, and you ask him how he’s doing with a ship’s doctor’s professionalism and efficiency.

“how’re you healing?”

“fine.”

“any tenderness?” you ask, your brows knitting as he tugs open his shirt and lets you peel the bandages away.

“not really,” he lies, because the the tenderness is not skin deep. he feels it in the labyrinthine galleys of his soul and he can’t quite figure out why you, of all people, might make him feel this way.

you run a surgical hand along the stretch of puckered skin and he sucks in a long breath, feeling his cheeks flood with inexplicable heat.

you smell of cedar and moss and freshly turned earth and for the life of him, he can’t remember why it makes his entire body go soft with memory. it reminds him of… something.

something, something, something.

“i hear you, y’know,” you say, and he jerks back to the present, with you absently rolling up your shirtsleeves before tugging at a fresh piece of gauze to wrap him back up.

“don’t know what you mean.” he looks away, willing himself to stay still as you daub a pungent cream against his chest before applying the layers of bandage. he lifts his arm to give you more room even as you shoot him a disbelieving look.

“sword practice, in the middle of the night. i told you that you need to rest — you’ll only prolong your own healing if you keep on pushing yourself like this. rest is it’s own brand of practice.”

zoro narrows his eyes. because he’d heard that from someone, somewhere before.

“your bodies need time to repair,” his sensei used to say as they all gathered after dinner at the doujou for evening meditation, “and a disciplined mind leads to a disciplined body. don’t forget that rest is it’s own brand of practice.”

zoro had never been good at it, but over the years, he’d managed to endure.

“there. all done.”

you lean back to admire your handiwork, unaware of zoro’s eyes as they scan over the shape of you, taking in the length of your hair, the bright of your eyes, the limber, spider-quick thinness of your hands and fingers.

“thanks,” he says, slipping off the kitchen table, pausing as he notices how still you’ve gone, your eyes wide as you blink at the planes of his chest, inches from your nose. a second later, you stumble back, clearing your throat, a sweet dawning pink dusts the high of your cheeks as he cocks his head to watch you, fascinated by your reaction.

he almost grins, letting his stomach flex as he takes his time in doing up the buttons of his shirt, before grabbing his swords and slipping from the room, leaving you to clean up your medical supplies, your bottom lip caught between your teeth.

zoro wonders, just briefly, how it might feel to catch your lips between his own teeth instead.

ink, skin, and bullets.

it’s you who bandages nami’s self-inflicted wounds, you who spends four meticulous hours tattooing over the sawfish curl with a pinwheel spiral that curves into a tangerine’s plumpness. you, who soothes eucalyptus balm over nami’s arm before wrapping it up in a fresh roll of gauze, waving away her hiccupped thanks.

and it’s you, who gets a shotgun pressed into your palms by a stony-faced nojiko as you all prepare to march on arlong park.

“if i can’t go with you… then at least, i can give you the tools,” nojiko says as she wraps your fingers around the butt of the gun.

zoro narrows his eyes as he watches the way your fingers shake as you weigh the shotgun in your palms.

“i don’t like it,” he says.

“yeah, you shouldn’t come with us — we’ll need you to patch us up after,” sanji agrees with a wink, much to zoro’s displeasure.

but you shake your head, a steely light in your eyes as you clutch the shotgun to your chest, “no, i — i want to come. i mean — like luffy said… it’s our fight, after all.”

arlong park.

the flurry of battle is as it always has been. you use the shotgun more as a blunt instrument than as a projectile carrier, but it seems to work just as well. you’re small, and quick, and your knowledge of anatomy (yes, even fishman anatomy) allows you to maneuver the head of the shotgun into the softest, most venerable places on a fishman’s body as you all fight your way through arlong park.

but zoro is never far off, keeping close to you as he fends off the worst of the snarling fishmen, his sword flashing like fish scales in the midday sun.

there comes a moment when he slices an oncoming fishman right through the jugular that you let out a long breath, wincing as the fishman’s body hits the ground with a dull thud, and zoro sighs, turning towards you. but a second later, he freezes as you grab the hilt of his sword and shove it backwards.

he feels it resting against thick, bullet-proof flesh and he hears the loud panting of something next to his ear as he sees in the reflection of your eyes — a fishman standing behind him, frozen against the tip of his blade, the hilt clutched in your shaking, shivering hands.

“d-don’t — i’ll kill you —” you say, your voice a forceful, fractured thing.

zoro searches your eyes before clasping his hands over yours and slowly tugging the sword from your gasp.

“hey…” he says, deliberately drawing your gaze away from the fishman before he jerks his sword back and feels, with a satisfying shink, the weight of the blade sinking into unforgiving flesh. he feels your fingers trembling beneath his as he pulls the sword away, and the fishman behind him sinks to his knees before falling sideways with the dull thunk of a no longer animate body.

you try to tug away, but zoro holds you steady, running his thumb in soothing circles along the backs of your hands.

“s-sorry — i — i couldn’t —”

zoro shakes his head, pulling you up by your elbow.

“it’s okay — don’t apologize.” he whips his swords around and catches another fishman in the stomach, dropping him with a flicker of silver and a splash of red.

“you never have to apologize…” he says, as he reaches for your hands and curls them in the warmth of his own, callused palms.

finding neverland.

you kiss for the first time after a brutal battle. after the deck has been washed of blood and the railings have been hung with the remnants of the tattered sails.

repairs are much needed, but zoro had saved you yet again. you pull him to you in the darkness of the midnight deck, the crow’s nest empty because, well, he’s supposed to be up there, keeping watch. but you’d caught him instead, curling your fingers into the soft linen of his shirt, your mouth seeking out his in the relative dark.

“mnph —”

he grunts as his hands find purchase against your shoulders, pressing you back and back and back, till you’re pushed flush against the thick totem of the main mast, and your panting breaths are all he can taste against his desperate lips.

“s-sorry…” you let out a helpless laugh as he pushes forward, his teeth clacking against yours.

“quit that,” he says, his voice nothing more than a panting breath on the open sea air.

“hm?” you blink, lashes fluttering in the moonless night, your lips kiss-swollen and delectable even as zoro forces himself to pull back, studying you with an accusatory eye.

“you’re always saying sorry,” he says as he brushes a strand of hair from your cheek. above you, the main sail whoomps, catching an evening wind.

“i’m not… i don’t…” you look away, embarrassed to be caught. zoro reaches down to grab your chin, forcing your head back towards him.

“yeah, you do,” he says, his voice gentle, even as he cups your cheek.

“you don’t ever, ever, have to apologize for just... being you. got it?” and there’s a burning ember in the spark of his voice as he twists your face up towards him, his lips hot and hungry as he brands you with this promise, and you’re powerless to do else but accept it.

you find your fingers in the short hairs at the nape of his neck, his breath cascading over your lips even as you press in close, close, closer. a helpless whine twists its way up the back of your throat as zoro hoists you up, his fingers digging into the plush of your thighs.

“z-zoro… please,” there’s something broken in the tenor of your voice that breaks him more completely than he has the words to describe, so he settles for holding you tighter over his hips and carrying you to his room. it takes a bit of finagling to get you comfortably situated in his hanging bed, but once he does, he can’t help the soft sigh that escapes him as he looks over the length of your body.

from your pink-flushed cheeks to the loose, crumpled material of your button up shirt, all the way down to the hem of your skirt as it brushes up along the skin of your thighs. he leans own to press an indulgent kiss into the dip of your collarbone.

“'please' though… i like a little bit more,” he says, reaching down to pop the top button of your shirt, to revel in the way you hiccup as he teases a line down your chest, his lips following his fingers as he undoes your buttons one by one.

“i — ah —” your fingers curl into the soft moss of his hair and he groans, long and lush into the creamy expanse of skin above the waist of your miniskirt.

“again…” zoro says, whispering the word against you, tugging on the elastic of your skirt, pulling them down the length of your legs.

“z-zoro, please!”

your head tips back as you feel his tongue flick over the hot button of your clit, his fingers digging into your hips, the pads of his forefingers tracing gentle circles around your hip bones as he holds you to his mouth and moans.

there’s a fumbling of fingers and a clashing of teeth as he wrenches himself up from between your legs to mouth at your lips. you taste yourself on his tongue and shiver at the indecency. still, the coals of desire burn in the pit of your stomach as his fingers press into your spit-slicked folds and you feel your whole body arch up in response.

he has always been quiet, but none more so than when he’s working three digits into your fluttering core, his eyes dark and fixed as they watch his own fingers pull out of you and push back in, slick and shiny with the evidence of your arousal.

“fuck…” he whispers the word like a prayer, slipping passed his lips like some holy thing. you can hear the near reverence in his voice as he slowly removes his hand and presses them to his lips for a taste. the lewdness of it makes the hot coil in the pit of your stomach twist all the tighter. and this time, when he drags himself up the length of your body to kiss you, you whine against his mouth, tasting your own tang on the heat of his tongue.

“ngh — fuck —!” you echo, as he flips onto his back and tugs you over his hips in one, fluid moment, his palms helping you grind your sodden folds over the length of his cock, the friction all-consuming and dizzying. a thin string of arousal connecting the tip of his cock to the seam of your cunt and zoro is helpless to do much else but moan thickly at the sight.

“shit.”

you whimper softly as he teases at your entrance, your palms splayed against his chest for support, your thighs shaking on either side of his hips as he eases you down inch by slow, excruciating inch, ontohis thick, throbbing cock. you toss your head back as he pushes into you, the fit of him fiery-tight and stretching you in ways you’d never thought was possible.

you feel him pulsing against your walls, and you wish briefly that you could’ve tasted him as he’d tasted you, before he sheathed himself inside you. how would he taste, you wondered, and you feel your mouth water at the thought of his heavy, salty weight on your tongue.

“n-ngh!” your voice cracks as he rocks his hips experimentally against yours, the drag of him inside you driving you to near incoherence.

“good girl,” he whispers, the words falling from him like second nature. you keen beneath his praise, bracing yourself as he plants his feet on the bed and jack hammers up into you, his stomach tensing in deep breaths of tight, sinewy muscle, his arms flexing as he helps you rock down above him.

“pretty… fucking… girl…” he intersperses his heavy groans of pleasure with soft exclamations, fucking you now to the light, rhythmic rocking of the ship, even though there’s nothing light about the way his cock bullies it’s way into your cunt again and again, forcing you to clamp down around him on each and every thrust.

there’s nothing gentle about the way he digs his nails into the flushed skin of your hips, how he leans up to latch his greedy mouth onto one of your pert nipples, moaning as he savors in the way you arch against him, pushing your chest more fully into his mouth.

“r-right — right there —”

“yeah?” he asks, half-smirking as he looks up at you, his warm gaze betraying the hard, teasing edge behind his voice, “where do you want me?”

you keen, whining as you drag your hands down your own body to press against your stomach, grabbing his hand to push it against you as well, his palm hot and flat as it lays along your tummy.

“r-right here —”

“fuck — that’s right —” he jerks up into you, burying his face in your chest with a clipped moan as he quickens his pace, his one hand pressing against your stomach as you feel him pushing up farther into you than you’d ever imagined possible.

the pleasure is intense, an other-worldly feeling as he finally pushes you over the edge, his hips stuttering as he feels you clench around him, your arms winding around his torso, to act as both tether and tide as he holds you to him, grounding you to this feeling while simultaneously casting you against the rough edges of this most selfless and selfish pleasure.

“h-holy… fuck me…” you breathe out, clutching at zoro’s back, digging ruddy red grooves into his shoulder blades as he rolls over to fucks down into you, relentless in his chase of his own climax, groaning deep and throaty as he finally spills into you.

you hiss as you feel the heat of him pooling inside. and it’s not till a few minutes later that he picks his head up from where his face had been buried in your neck to shoot you a wide, lopsided grin.

“yeah, pretty sure that’s what i just did,” he says, rolling onto his side and letting out a deep, soul-steadying breath.

you roll your eyes before turning to look at him, only to find him watching you with a gentle, anchoring softness. and like this, it’s hard to see him as the battle-hardened warrior. like this, it’s hard to imagine that he’d ever made such a promise as to become the greatest swordsman in the whole, entire world.

like this, he just looks like a lovestruck boy, forced to grow up much too soon, searching for any remnants of pleasure he might have left to hold on to.

an irony of hands.

it’s never easy, the night after enemy raids, the deck pooling with bodies and blood, the sea the color of a scabbing wound, flotsam and jetsam like bloated body parts floating on the dark, inky waves.

you’re helping usopp push some of the dead bodies overboard, but then you find one man with three deep gashes on his torso and blood bubbling on his lips.

“… gonna… gonna report — never… escape…”

you nearly yell as you see the tiny den den mushi in his hands, his fingers quivering as he tries to dial the emergency line. you smack it from his hand and press your tiny, surgeon’s scalpel to his throat. it’s sweet, polished silver gleams wicked beneath the moonless night.

“don’t you fucking dare,” you say, even though your voice shakes, and there are perhaps a million other ways of taking care of him more easily. but you know that if you throw him overboard now, he’d bob, half-drowning and helpless, for a few hours, or maybe even days before he’d finally succumb to the terrible, patient drag of the ocean (and most likely, dehydration).

“no,” a voice says, steady and firm, as a long, rough-fingered hands enter your vision and carefully tug your hands way from the man’s throat.

you look up to find zoro, his hand still clutched around yours, an unspoken sweetness flickering behind his eyes.

“i — if we toss him over — he'll just —” you swallow thickly, tearing your gaze away from zoro’s face as his expression shifts into something of the unreadable and soft. you hate to let him see you like this, so hesitant, so incompetent.

“let me do it,” zoro says, giving your hands a light shove before, with one swift arc of his blade, he severs the man’s carotid, leaving him slumped and bleeding on the blood-stained deck.

“oh… oh god…” you press your shaking fingers to your lips, the silver scalpel falling with a loud clatter.

“c’mere,” zoro says, tugging you up and leading you down to the hallway below decks. he slows as the pair of you enter the darkest part of the hallway, and he turns to hold you at arms length, his fingers tight on your arms as you feel his eyes scanning you over, and over, and over.

“you’re not hurt?” he asks, voice quiet and clipped.

“no,” you shake your head.

“not even a little?”

you shake your head again, pursing your lips this time to keep the sob from pouring through.

still, he sees it, and he pulls you to him, cradling your head in his large, warm palm, the other arm wrapping around your middle.

“stupid girl,” he murmurs, light, into your cheek even as you let out a bitten off sob against his chest.

you hiccup, curling your fingers into the material of his shirt, "i — i couldn’t do it,” you say, squeezing your eyes as he holds you to him and lets you cry.

“i — i couldn’t kill him.”

zoro sighs, pulling back to smooth a hand over your hair, bringing it down to cup your now tear-stained cheek.

“yeah, i know. but that’s not what your hands are made for,” he says, letting his own hands trail down and down and down, till he’s got both of your palms cupped in his like a wishbone.

“don’t you get it?” he asks, staring down at your palms, upturned against his, “these hands were never made for taking lives…” he looks up, his eyes too bright in this borrowed darkness. and then, he smiles.

“they were made for saving lives instead.”

confessions, part i.

you stare at him for a full ten seconds before letting your body fall laxed into a soft, bubbling fit of champagne-colored laughter.

“i love you,” you say, the words tumbling from you, more truth than any story or poem or legend or myth either of you have ever heard.

“i love you, zoro,” you say again, tasting the words on your tongue like fireworks, like pop-rock candies, like the first, stinging breath of autumn after the hazy veil of summer has finally lifted. and slowly, in the clarity and truth of your declaration, you think you can see his lips as they lift up in an open-heart smile, as he too tastes the words you’ve just so recently mustered the courage to say.

confessions, part ii.

zoro stares back, and or a long moment, he doesn’t say anything. then, for too long. and you think you’d made a mistake, telling him how you feel. but then, he smiles — a true smile, a smile that lights up his face and erases all the grooves and lines that should’ve been worn there by the weathers and weights of hardship.

and still, listening to your words, he smiles — a smile that makes him nothing short of incandescent.

he nods, squeezing your hands in his.

“i love you too.”

false start (redux).

every story as a beginning, a middle, and an end. though not necessarily in that order. and, looking back, roronoa zoro knows that if he had to pick, his story probably begins here — at the ripe age of eight, in a doujou nestled next to a forest that always smelled of cedar and moss and freshly turned earth.

it probably starts with an endless parade of sword practice and sparring, of warm up laps and cool down stretches.

its true — it could be said that his story starts with kuina, the doujou sensei’s blue-haired daughter, who was better at swordcraft than zoro thought he ever might be. and to some, this is a good enough kind of beginning to latch on to.

but no, zoro knows, because he knows himself now, and he knows that stories, just like swordsmanship, is an art that requires a certain amount of tempering. a certain degree of trimming and tailoring. a certain kind of articulation.

so he’s certain that it starts here, when he’d seen you for the very first time. and it’s true, you’d seemed like nothing special then, just another quiet little girl who’d been forced into the doujou by some faceless set of rigid, expectant parents, and you’d worked just as hard as you could have, given your natural inclination for anything but sword play.

he’d known that you’d never be great shakes at swordsmanship, but still, he’d found himself drawn by and to you, as a magnet would a compass rose, as one might find their destiny, or their soulmate. he had found his eyes tracking you whenever you weren’t looking, found himself watching as you’d patter around after sparring practice to ask everyone how they were feeling, to dig your tiny fingers (strong and dexterous as they already were) into a knot here, an aching muscle there, a pinched nerve that might’ve been really bad if not found here, and left to fester in that vast, horrible elsewhere.

but he’d been a shy, quiet, kind of boy, absorbed by his sport. and kuina’s skill was more than enough for one growing, teenage boy to contend with without worrying about the strange attraction he had towards perhaps the least “swordsy” person in the entire class. and so, he’d never plucked up the courage to talk to you, never questioned when you’d kept away from his side of the classroom after sparring practice, when all the other girls would flutter around him like a flock of unwelcome pigeons, asking if he wanted to be their stretching partner.

then, the morning came when shimotsuki-sensei had informed him in not so many words that kuina was gone. and the funeral had slipped by in a hazy blur of bodies and incense, and the next thing he knew, he was holding the wadou ichimonji, and sensei was saying something about keeping kuina’s dream alive.

he’d seen you flit from the funeral march of black-clad children, shadow-dark and raven-quick, right off into the thicket of trees. and he’d followed you, because he couldn’t think of a place he’d like to be less than back in that suffocating practice room with all his fellow classmates, half of them casting him curious looks, the other half avoiding his gaze like the literal plague.

he’d followed you to the clearing, and watched as you’d sprinted, screaming around the field of tiny, white-petaled flowers until you slumped down, panting with your face upturned to a sea-breeze sky. he caught himself before he could burst out laughing (or crying, he wasn’t quite sure which he wanted to do more at that moment), and he’d forced himself to sit still behind the trunk of a large tree and watch as you pushed yourself up. the light of the dying sun washed your figure in a great, dream-like ream of orange and gold.

then, just as it seemed like you were going to head back, he spotted you spot the injured fawn, curled into the gnarled roots of a sapling cypress tree. and he’d watched still as you slowly approached the creature with a handful of peanuts before distracting it and crack — he’d heard it clear across the clearing — the sound of a bone being set back into place.

the fawn had screeched and bolted to it’s feet.

but you were just as fearless as you always were, holding out your palm with more peanuts, and zoro had watched, with a mounting fascination coiling in the base of his stomach, as the fawn dug its nose into the palm of your hand.

he’d seen the brilliance behind your eyes, heard the bell-toll sound of your soft, everlasting laughter.

and he vowed, then and there, to become the greatest swordsman he could be, the greatest swordsman in the world, if only to protect you from those who might hurt you. from those who might threaten to take away the light — the life — that thrummed, ever present, in the palms of your very own hands.

a/n: i know, i know, there was an authors note before. but i feel like i can explain this better now that you've read the fic -- to me, the story of "butterfly lovers" is and always has been as story of someone pretending to be someone they're not, right? so in that sense, you/reader was just trying to fit into a mold that wasn't quite made for her before discovering her true calling as a doctor. and the fluff and romance was that, unbeknownst to her, zoro's known that this entire fucking time. u__u anyways. i hope you enjoyed. bless up and simp zoro, fam.

opla!zoro requests are open!

[sink-me-in-your-ocean]

Equilibrium

Phantom Ghoul x fem!Reader Smut

Summary: (Kinda) Part of a "Choose your own adventure" series in progress, but it works well enough on its own so I thought I would post it now.

WC: 3620

A/N: This one has bewitched me, (feral) body and soul. Fellow Phantom simps, this one is for you, but mostly me.

Content warnings: no plot - only spice, fingering, P in V sex. 18+ only. Minors DNI.

NSFW below the cut.

Your hard fist hit the door three times. Impatience was one of your most prominent traits and you’d be damned if you didn’t hate waiting on somebody else. Especially when that somebody else was the one who had plagued your thoughts for weeks. And at night his name was the one uttered from your lips from your own self-pleasure.

You grabbed the door handle and twisted, discovering much to your chagrin that was unlocked and you had been standing out here all this time. You walk into the room, scanning the space, noting the chill that bit your limbs. Fucking hells it was freezing. Your sisters told you that the ghouls run hot, but it was like a blizzard had hit the room. The room was also, to your dismay, empty of occupants. Maybe he’s not here? 

Your ears perked up, hearing water running from an adjoined room. The joints of your fingers started to lock up as you lifted them to the wood of what you assumed was a bathroom door. You knocked, this time feeling a slight pain in your cold hands as you did so. 

“Phantom?” You call out just loud enough, dragging out the vowels.

“Hey! You weren’t supposed to come ‘till later!” His voice echoed from inside the closed room, and you heard the water shut off abruptly.

“I can come back if you want.” You offered, giving him an out.

“Hells no!” He opened the door wearing nothing but a white towel.

Your mouth went dry at the sight. It hung low. Dangerously low. But that wasn’t the only thing you noticed. His human glamor was nowhere to be found. 

Phantom’s true skin was grey, just the same as you had heard about the other ghouls, but his shoulders and chest had sparse midnight blue clusters of freckles. You marveled at the hard planes of his chest and stomach, at the way the water from the shower still clung to his arms and drenched his mostly-black hair. His signature white streak plastered itself to his forehead and the side of his face, while the rest stuck to his ears and neck. He had two near-black horns protruding from underneath his soggy hair. Finally, you settled your gaze on his face, his fangs slightly poked out through his parted lips. His beauty mark was also visible on his left cheek, several shades darker against the grey tones of his skin. 

A half-smile spread on your face as you noticed his beauty spot, and you fought the urge to reach up and touch his cheek. 

“Like what you see?” He cocked his head to the side, making you grin wider. It was truly no wonder why you were so drawn to him. In his human form he was cute… but as a ghoul? Strikingly handsome. Nine hells you wanted to kiss him.

“Maybe I do.” 

“Set in your choice?”

“Maybe I am.” You nibbled your bottom lip, tempted to rake your gaze over Phantom’s body again.

Instead, you walked past him and into the bathroom, leaning yourself over the vanity to feign checking yourself out. You mostly just needed a break from looking at him half-naked. “My darling ghoul,” you called absently, “you’re not wearing your glamor. Sister Imperator would not be pleased, I wouldn’t want to tell on you, but…”

He looked down at himself, “Oh shit, you’re right.” He shrugged, “I thought you were going to change your mind or something. Figured it wouldn’t matter too much either way if I just ‘let it all hang out’ so to speak.”

“No, no, I just wanted to tell you so you could change back.” You played with your hair, tucking back a few strands that had come loose from your braid.

“Well, I can if you want me to. Do you?”

You opened your mouth to answer but he cut you off.

“Wait, did you just call me ‘my darling’?” Your eyes flicked back to him through the mirror, heart temporarily quivering as he repeated your words back to you.

You regained your composure before his teasing look could disarm you further. “That’s what you heard out of me talking?”

He advanced on you suddenly, barely giving you enough time to turn around to face him. You backed up against the counter top, your spine arching as you shrunk back, and your fingernails digging into the underside of the cold marble. His arms came down on either side to trap you in place.

There was a mix of anticipation and cockiness in his expression, “You like me, don’t you?”

“Phantom, it’s a wonder why Sister Imperator doesn’t consult you for logistics.” He made a face, clearly missing your sarcasm, and you liked him even more for it. “Of course I like you. I wouldn’t be here if not.”

A shy smile ghosted across his lips, and you caught another glimpse of those fangs. You filled the silence by speaking again, “Well? Don’t just leave me hanging.”

“I like you too.” His admission was softer than a feather but weighed as much as concrete.

You stifled a knowing smile, “Yeah?”

“Yeah, I do.” 

“You’re a little trickster then.” You cocked your head, “you had me thinking I was the only one.”

His smile matched yours, “I’m surprised you didn’t figure it out sooner, for a while there I thought I’d burst into flames because you kept giving me those eyes.” You laughed at that, knowing full well what he meant, and he continued, “And just so you’re well aware, there’s nothing about me that’s little.”

“Oh, you nasty ghoul.”

“Yes?”

Your eyes narrowed, “You lured me in here on purpose, didn’t you?”

“Hard to say, really,” you watched, hypnotized as his tongue wet his bottom lip and then he leaned in close. “But that’s not the only thing that’s hard.” His breath coasted along your neck and goosebumps raised along the path, as if your skin was subconsciously reaching for him. You felt his lips barely hovering by the shell of your ear, causing a stirring sensation that shot through your entire body. 

You shoved at his chest playfully and he smirked at you, both of you knowing where this is going. You felt a fluttering in the pit of your stomach and finally allowed yourself to reach your hand up, brushing the white and black, slightly air-dried, hair away from his face. No more hesitation. Something inside you gave you the gumption to raise up on your tiptoes and kiss him. You planted a single smooch on his lips, closing your eyes as you did.

You drew back, studying his features. He was so still, his eyes scrunched closed in a combination of tension and serenity. 

“Phantom?”

He opened his eyes, his dark gaze devouring you. The air in the room changed and all ambient sound seemed to have been sucked into a void. You couldn’t look away from him. Afraid for a half of a second that maybe he didn’t like the kiss, you opened your mouth to allow the doubt to pour out. But you never got a single syllable out before his hands were on your face, tilting your head up to kiss you.

His mouth met yours in a breath-stealing kiss. Your hands immediately laced through his damp hair, touching the sides of his face, his neck, pulling him in closer. You parted your lips slightly on the next kiss and he used it to his advantage, his tongue swiping ever so lightly between your lips to taste you. You open your mouth more, allowing him full access. Feeling his tongue brush yours made you lightheaded. 

Phantom grabbed your waist, pulling you flush against him. He tilted his head slightly, deepening the kiss. The hunger shared between the two of you felt as though it had been building for years, your entire life even. A tickle on the back of your thigh made you jump, opening your eyes and breaking the kiss for a moment.

He huffed a laugh, “Sorry, my tail seems to have a mind of its own sometimes.”

“It’s okay,” you kissed him again, “I like it.” You brazenly reached around his waist to feel the base of his tail. He jerked involuntarily towards you and you felt his hard length pressing against your abdomen. How that towel was holding up you had no idea.

Touching, tasting, breathing him in, it wasn’t enough. You needed so much more. Your core ached in a way that silenced all thoughts of self-doubt and modesty. 

Your hands moved up his back, feeling his warm skin and the tight muscles underneath. He unzipped the back of your dress, and you felt it fall open, the air and his hands touching your bare skin underneath. 

“No bra?” He said, sliding your dress down while moving into a crouched position in front of you. 

“Hm.” You purse your lips, drawing it out, “That’s not all.”

He made a sound like you’d imagine a Victorian man seeing a woman’s ankles. Astonished but intrigued. “No underwear?” 

You shrugged, “Surprised? I thought I could just ‘let it all hang out’, or however you put it so eloquently.”

Phantom stared up at you, trying to hide a smile, and you could see a color creeping up over his cheeks. Could a ghoul even blush? He giggled lightly, shaking his head at you in what seemed like amazement. 

He helped you step out of the dress, his eyes sweeping over your naked frame, drinking all of you in. Phantom rose slowly and his long fingers trailed up the inside of your legs. The calluses of his fingertips tickled, making you twitch slightly as they neared where you wanted to feel him the most. His right hand moved around to your waist, the other hesitated between your legs, just an inch or so from your core. 

“Sit.” He commanded. You obeyed, your ass meeting the countertop, your legs parting on their own accord in silent invitation.

“Please, Phantom, touch me.” 

“As you wish.” 

You inhaled sharply as his middle finger swiped through your folds, dragging languidly in the wetness there. He let out a needy noise, leaning down to breathe you in, kissing and sucking your neck. You wanted him so badly, and now that he could feel that, the implication made you even more weak for him. 

His middle and ring fingers dragged again through your wetness, lingering for a moment before pressing inside you. 

You cried out at the intrusion, wincing slightly. It had been so long since you had a partner, and still your fingers never made you feel like this. Phantom knew all the right moves, drawing in and out at a steady pace. His fingers felt exquisite as they lazily fucked your slick cunt. And when his thumb pressed lightly against your clit, you whined his name. Suddenly you needed to see him exposed too, because if just his fingers made you feel so good then…

“You won’t be needing this.” You pulled his towel off his body, baring him before you. Your eyes widened at the size of him. Fuck. Your mouth salivated at the sight of his long, hard cock. You couldn’t stare too long, as his lips moved from their place on your neck and collarbone back to your lips.

Each kiss, every touch was hotter than the last, igniting the two of you. He was burning up. He felt perfect against your ice cold skin. Like a day of sun in the middle of a desolate winter.

You had half a mind to beg him to fuck you on the counter, and it’s like he knew were about to speak, because he interrupted your thought with an even more tantalizing suggestion.

“Can I fuck you in the shower?” 

You moaned, his fingers curling inside you deliciously, “What do we say when we want something, darling ghoul?”

He groaned, his hand moving from your waist to the nape of your neck. He gathered your braid and yanked sharply, exposing more of your neck for him to lavish. “Fuck,” he uttered between bites along your soft skin, “can I please take you in the shower?”

“Yes.” Your word was barely out of your mouth when he planted another fierce kiss to your lips. His fingers left you empty as he helped you off the counter. You would have followed him anywhere at that moment, anything to get him touching you again. 

He took you by one hand and walked towards the shower with you, kissing you every step of the way until your feet hit the slick stone of the shower floor. He gave your hands a squeeze to turn around and turn the water on. You smirked at seeing his cute butt, his tail protruding from just above. You were filled with the sudden urge to bite him when a large waterfall nozzle poured water out from above the two of you, bringing you back out of your thoughts.

Phantom turned to face you again, and all the sustenance in the world couldn’t quench the hunger in his eyes. Your adrenaline spiked then - or maybe it was the momentarily cold water splashing on your feet. Maybe it was the anticipation of knowing that you were finally living the fantasy you had wanted for so long. 

He pressed you against the tiled wall of the shower, the now warm water flowing down providing sweet relief for your chilled naked body. Your back was cold against the tile, so you wrapped your arms around the back of his neck to pull him closer. For warmth.

The two of you shared a series of messy kisses, your lungs suffocating from the intense lack of air as steam circled you. He closed the open space between your bodies quickly, his strong hand taking hold of your right leg and lifting it up to meet his waist. Once there, you were just one slight move from being as close together as you could possibly be. The head of his cock nudged at your opening, and you felt yourself instinctively clench with want. The water from the shower did a great job making your whole body wet, but you were dripping with need for him. 

“Are you sure you want to do this?”

Your gaze moved up to his. Phantom’s dark eyes were clouded with lust, but wavered in slight trepidation. He was serious, wanting your full consent before going any further. For a beat, your heart stuttered in your chest, knowing there would be no going back if you two did this. You couldn’t say no, though, there was something primal in you that screamed with demand. He was the only one you wanted, and you wanted him desperately.

Heart still pounding, you reached up to touch his cheek and pulled him down into a passionate kiss. You broke the kiss to give him your answer, “Yes, yes Phantom, I want you.”

He nodded, eyes flicking over your face to search for any hits of doubt. Satisfied with your sincerity, he nuzzled his face into your neck, breathing you in deeply as he pulled you in. His cock pressed inside you with ease, meeting no resistance. You bit back a moan, teeth sinking into your bottom lip so hard you tasted iron on your tongue. If kissing him for the first time was ecstasy, feeling him inside you for the first time was oblivion.

“Oh fuck.” Your foreheads pressed together and you exhaled heavily as he sheathed himself inside you.

It was like a switch had flipped, you two went from frantic grasping and fevered kisses to slow, intentional movements. His right hand cradled the back of your head as he thrust into you with a deep rhythm that made your stomach tighten. He raised your right leg up higher so you were on your tiptoes, trying to press further inside you. 

The water from the shower head cascaded down your skin in rivulets, adding a tickling sensation over your breasts and your stomach as it trickled over you. It felt like something out of a fucking romance novel. The heat, the chill, the need, the gratification; a perfect equilibrium.

His hand grabbed greedily at your left thigh, “I need you closer.”

A feather of a laugh lifted the corners of your lips, “I don’t think that’s possible.” You kissed him again, sucking his bottom lip into your mouth and biting it. He growled, fangs jutting out to try to bite you back. You moved your face away, seeing the playfulness in his pitch-dark eyes mixed with something mischievous.

“It is.” That was the only warning he gave before he lifted you up effortlessly off the floor. Your legs wrapped reflexively around his waist and you gasped at the sensation of weightlessness.

You felt a furious blush burn over your face and neck, flustered at the ease with which he picked you up. Flushed at the way his cock bottomed out inside you fully. Your walls tightened from the additional intrusion, and you moaned into his mouth. Your lips collided together in a series of heady open-mouthed kisses, becoming a mess of teeth, tongues, and fangs. 

Your hands tangled themselves perfectly in his drenched hair and you rested your head against the tile to get a good look at him.

His dark brows were drawn together, and he had the look of utmost concentration and pleasure on his face as he drove into your heat. There was a deepening of the color on his cheeks again, a soft blush. He adjusted his hands from your thighs to have one arm firmly around your back, the other hand holding the roundness of your ass. Phantom’s eyes were turned down, and you followed where he was looking.

You let your gaze drift down, admiring again his toned, hard body against your soft, squishy one. When you looked all the way down to where you two were joined, watching and feeling everywhere each and every thrust of his cock inside you, you felt like you would melt.

It was all so intimate, too intimate for your first time together. Seeing his true form, being held so tightly in his arms, fuck, he had you. He had you so well. And the way he felt inside of you was divine. Like you were made for each other. 

Your body burned, your muscles trembled, your jaw twitched. Phantom tightened his hands on your waist and back, his claws scratching at your supple skin while his teeth and tongue took turns with your neck. His tail snaked up and twisted around your ankle, locking you further in place as if you’d run away on your own. You couldn’t even think of being apart from him. You never wanted him to leave your body.

As if the passion in the moment wasn’t enough, he reached a hand between you two, finding your clit and rubbing slow circles. You keened, bucking your hips forward, trying to grind harder against him, but he was in full control, holding you steady while he increased his rhythm. You felt a tension building in your abdomen, and you closed your eyes tightly, trying to resist your impending orgasm. You didn’t want to come yet, you wanted to draw it out more, but the added pressure on your clit from his thumb was butchering your resolve. Your breathing increased, every exhale punctuated by a whine as you felt yourself getting closer, and closer.

He noticed your futile writhing in his arms, “Are you going to come for me, pretty girl?”

You mewled, “Yes - but I want you to -” you couldn’t finish the sentiment, incoherent babbling becoming all you could muster. You were so close.

“You want me to? Where do you want me to come?”

“Inside me -” Your legs tensed, your abdomen tensed, your whole body locking up as your pussy clenched around him. You could no longer breathe or think.

“Fall apart for me, only me.” He kissed your neck, sucking on the skin there before drawing back. “Look into my eyes, sweet girl.”

You did, his near-black irises melted you from the inside. That taught string that had been holding you snapped, sending you spiraling. Your mouth fell open and a moan tore its way from your throat. He planted his lips to yours as you shattered in his arms.

His hands both moved up to your shoulders, pulling you down hard onto his cock as he drove himself as deep within you as possible. You felt him twitching inside you, warmth spreading as he came for you. 

You stay there for a minute, your breathing returning slowly to a normal cadence as the water continues to run over the both of you. You were wholly grateful for his inhuman strength; Phantom held you like you weighed nothing. He put one hand under your rear and the other came up to your face, his thumb stroked your bottom lip. His fingers caressed your chin, tilting you up and into one final searing kiss to seal your shared passion. 

“Can you stand?” He withdrew himself from you and moved to gently place your legs back down on the stone floor. 

“I - I think so.” Your stubborn legs wanted to give out, all your body wanted to do was collapse in a heap. 

He offered you his hand, helping steady you. “Want to get cleaned up? I mean, we might as well since we’re already in the shower.” 

“Yes,” you answered, before playfully adding, “please.”

“What am I going to do with you?” He whispered, kissing your forehead as you both relaxed in the steady stream of water.

-

[klodwig]

"Because all of this is bullshit!" Hux said. "All I... believed in is... bullshit."  

He sat on the floor. Silly little Christmas elf. Ginger one. Pretty... cute in Kylo's opinion.

 "What is?" 

" Naughty. Children. Shouldn’t. Get. Gifts."  

"It's obvious," said Kylo carefully. 

"NO!" 

He never thought that in one little elf there can be so much anger and wrath.  

"No! Here is... not so little boy, who kil- murdered the cat of one poor old woman who lives nearby. Is he naughty?" 

 "Sure." 

"But "we cant leave him without gifts, 'cause his father is a merchant and it's gonna be strange if he'll got nothing!" Do you hear that?!"  

Hux smiled, wide and creepy.  

"But you know, who really will have nothing in this year? Grandson of this old woman. He must come home not later than at nine every day, but in that evening he reeled on the streets with lantern till midnight and called for that poor cat. And... voila. He is in naughty list, because he was late home. And I... was demoted for questions. So... if you want to eat me - well. Go ahead."  

He closed his eyes as if he really waited that Kylo will eat him right now, but Krampus only laughed.

"Pf. You think, I'll eat old and bony elf when I can have tasty little murderer? Isn't it stupid?" 

*** 

"I took those candies from beneath the Christmas tree. He won’t need them anymore." 

Kylo looked  full and satisfied. Hux was afraid that he will smell blood, but around Kylo there was nothing new - he could only smell coal and maybe a little bit ofsugar. 

"You can give it to another tasteless child, if you want".