#which is still a while ago but oddly recent

[shedelulululu]

Inspired by this video which has haunted me for years (it's a very disturbing story told very jovially) I suggest you watch it but the tldr here is athletes trust their team doctors and don't ask questions about medications they're given!

So new team doctor! Mel King and NHL player! Frank Langdon cw: intentional drugging, sabotage via medications (below the cut)

Mel King does not get into sports medicine because she has a crush on the players. It's bothered her from the time she took to the ice herself at 3 years old that her interest was always centered around men. She plays into college, she's good enough to get a scholarship to an okay school, she's not good enough to go pro, she made peace with that long ago -- it's not until recent that there was any money in women's hockey and it's still not that good. She didn't think she had it in her to coach, she wanted something stable, she liked helping people, she's one of the few athletes to take advantage of the fact that her classes were paid for, and so majors in biochem and kinesiology, and kisses a lot of ass in order to get a residency in orthopeadic surgery, a fellowship in sports medicine, and abuses every connection she's made since the time she was born to earn herself a position affiliated with a team.

Mel King does not work for the Pittsburgh Penguins because she has a crush Frank Langdon. Really, she tried to get a job with the PWHL, she had friends in the league, but there's only a handful of US teams and none of them were hiring and while she has no doubts about being able to get a visa to work in Canada, the paperwork it would require for Becca too would be too much. She applied to work with every NHL team with an open position, she poked around her networks for anywhere they could squeeze her in, she even applied to a couple teams in other sports (that she restricted to staying in California). When she got the call from the practice associated with the Penguins offering her a job, she didn't think twice, she said yes.

She had one crush on one hockey player her whole life, she usually preferred the swimmers and tennis players, she ran into him once at party while she was doing her fellowship at UCLA (a couple of the Kings players took a liking to her and invited her out sometimes), they flirted a bit, well she certainly was flirting, but eventually he got pulled away, as is to happen when you're the second line centre and attractive in a way that makes you wonder why he'd pick a sport that could so easily ruin his face. It's not like anything could happen now anyways, he has a girlfriend, Abby, typical hockey WAG profile (blonde, long hair, perfect body, modest instagram following but not too large -- that was saved for athletes in sports people actually cared about like Basketball and Football) and she was nice to all the staff, even made sure to bring people cupcakes on their birthday. She had posted some vaguely antivaxx posts, Mel tried not to think about it too much, there was something in the water with women with a certain level of wealth.

He doesn't remember her, which is fine. He calls her Dr. Barbie, which initially she hates (does he really not respect her just because she's a woman?) he eventually catches wind of this and clears up that he has the utmost respect for Barbie (he saw the movie three times in theatres!), and she catches on that he has other oddly Mattel themed nicknames for the other doctors she works with (Dr. Hot Wheels -- he did have a red sports car, Dr. Bob the Builder -- ortho joke?). Sometimes he'll try a reckless trick shot in practice and point to her saying "this one's for you!" Which she can only assume to mean she's the one tasked with ensuring he didn't tear his ACL or rupture his patella in the process.

At first she's horrified to learn how much he trusts her -- or maybe she's horrified by her own reaction. She gives the players ambien as they disembark their flight in Seattle, in case they need help sleeping that night. The next day is an earlier game, 3 PM on a Sunday, there's a very early morning skate which she hangs around for, but mostly she's going over her game day checklist on the bench. Suddenly she hears the sharp sound of skates stopping in front of her, blue eyes wild and peering down at her "The pill you gave us yesterday is for sleep right?" She tilts her head to the side, "Yes" he grins back "Perfect you're the best". She doesn't think anything of it, until 10 minutes until the first period, she notices Frank's not skating right. His edges less precise, his body unresistant to hits. She then notices the players talking between the benches, clearly gesturing to Langdon. She should tell the coach to pull him from the game immediately, but she's not sure he'd listen, she doesn't think he trusts her judgement yet (he thinks she's overly cautious). In between periods she pulls him away from the locker room into the away exam room, and does a quick cognitive assessment, but she's already put the pieces together. "Langdon, did you take the pill today?" "Yeah, I always struggled to take naps when we play the west" "Langdon, the medication you took was an Ambien" he's slurring his words, "Yeah sure okay and?" She realizes then, after pulling him from the game and babysitting him that he trusts her unconditionally, and he might be a little stupid.

It's not Mel's fault she overhears a lot of 'locker room talk'. Honestly she tries to tune most of it out lest she develop animosity towards the players she's paid to treat because they talked about this 'rocket' that 'took both of them' and how the others should 'take her for a spin'. The guys with girlfriends and wives are no more respectful she's learned, some of them -- a lot of them -- cheat, others treat it all like a game, showing off what they have, one upping each other. Frank Langdon, while more tolerable than the others, is no exception. "Cap, what do you mean you just go home and pass out after every win? I'm so keyed up after, not even going out tires me out, I go multiple rounds with Abby after it's the only thing that wear me out. I'm pretty sure she only allows me to fuck her in her sleep now because she's too tired to keep up with me". So if after the next win she corners him before he leaves the arena with 'something to help his recovery' that totally kills his libido, she's just a doctor treating symptoms that her patient expressed concern with, nothing more. So when she's seated next to the WAGs at the next team dinner (which is a sexism thing because the other doctor travelling with her is next to the coaching staff) and overhears Abby complain that Frank never seems to want to touch her anymore, she doesn't smile (too hard).

Langdon doesn't make the All Star team, he honestly doesn't want to, it's extra work for a little bit of meaningless glory (it's not the fuck stanley cup or an olympic medal, why would he care?), and he'd rather take the vacation time. When he tells Mel his plans, she's surprised to hear that instead of jetting off to the Bahamas or Mexico like some of his teammates, he's visiting Abby's family in Louisiana. He tells her that she comes from a Big Oil family, they look down on him which he thinks is ridiculous because unlike their daughter at least he has a job and it pays fucking well thank you. She gives him two unmarked bottles of pills, tells him to take one of each in the morning during his trip. She doesn't bother giving him an excuse for why he has to take them, he never seemed to care anyways. The pills themselves will be mostly harmless for him, together they might interact to make him more irritable, on edge, prone to aggression, but it's not like he's ever minded side effects before. They don't come back from All Star break broken up, but he does ask her if it's possible to return a custom ring. She's happy to help.

Abby is absent from their next travel game. Frank Langdon is decidedly not morally above his teammates. She was invited out to the bar after this win, one of the rookie's girlfriend's (Cecilia Eze) had taken a shining to her and begged her to come out (she was a college sweetheart, she had a remote job and was studying for law school on the side, she didn't dislike the other WAGs but she felt she had way more in common with Mel than them). She watches as Frank disappears into the bathroom, followed by a woman with shocking red hair. Cecilia, who never got sick while drinking (oh to be 23 again), but did easily lose her filter, giggled when she looked between the bathroom and Mel "the guys look at you sometimes yknow? Have you ever noticed there's a line up of minor issues on days you're working?" Mel furrowed her brow, she was surprised when her coworkers notes were much shorter than hers but she never thought much of it, Cecilia barrels on, "There's this stupid bet, I berated them for it btw but I think they just took a note to be more discreet around me, about who is going to get you first." Mel raised a brow, shocked, she was pretty sure, but it's not like she really tired around them, she asked "Who is in the lead?" Cecilia barks a laugh "Well for a while it was Barzy because they never see him with girls over, they're too stupid to figure out he's gay, in second was Shensy because he had the most obvious crush on you even though you can barely even stand to talk to him for longer than a minute. But now that things have gotten rocky with Abby and Langdon..." she clasps a hand over her mouth "Oh I really shouldn't be saying this, Abby's been nothing but super nice and welcoming to me. But I mean..." her eyes dart back to the single stall bathroom door "Anyways, it's not a big deal, I don't think any of them think you'd actually agree, it is funny when they take home girls that could be your carbon copy though"

Mel doesn't think she's a calculated person, she recognizes the opportunities in front of her and takes action. After a particularly grueling bag skate, Langdon approaches Mel about optimal recovery and training workouts. Naturally she suggests pilates. Frank contemplates her suggestion "I'm not like against pilates, I know it's not just like a girl thing or whatever, I've been to a couple classes with Abby" he winces at her name "they're hard, but every instructor has this annoying fucking attitude I can't stand." Mel taught pilates in undergrad, it was good extra money, fit well with her classes, and she was able to score a position at the campus gym so they were really accommodating. So she offered to workout with him, they could start with just stuff on the mat and if he liked it they could talk to the team about getting a reformer set up. She goes back and forth between pharmacology texts, research articles, and online anecdotes, when deciding whether to give him a microdose of shrooms or opiates before every session. She just wants to make sure he feels good when they're together.

It's nice this routine they start to develop, pill, pilates, and drinking smoothies while they walk his dog in the park when they're done. "My bosses are really getting on my ass for all the extra hours I spend with the team. I'm super behind on the surgeries I'm supposed to scrub in on outside of working with the team." She reveals to him one afternoon. The next day she's informed that she's been relieved from her regular duties and she will now serve as Frank Langdon's personal physician in addition to being one of the team doctors. "You didn't have to do that for me" Frank laughs "Good. Because I didn't. C'mon you have to know you're my favourite. I did this for me."

They both dress really slutty (for work out wear) and get overly handsy during these pilates classes okay! What is she supposed to do? Not slot her body between his legs and help deepen his stretch? Not bring her hands around his hips to fix his position? Avoid tilting his chin forward so he doesn't injure his neck?

Cecilia let's it slip that Abby is frustrated that Langdon is never around anymore. She's worried he's fucking his new workout partner. Mel nods along, afraid if she speaks up it will become apparent that she's the partner.

They're out in Los Angeles, it feels full circle to be at a house party hosted by her favourite Kings player with her new team. She was talking to Frank, figuring she should finally let it slip, "You probably don't remember this, but we actually met here for the first time" "Oh I could never forget that night--" she was unceremoniously dragged into playing beer pong with the host, annoyed it interrupted their conversation but as the game went on it was freeing to hang out with someone friendly and so unencumbered by the dynamics of her job. Her partner had his arm around her, going for a shot and missing, she can feel it when Langdon enters the room, eyes boring into the side of her skull. Her partner finishing chugging his beer, takes notice of him "Hey! I hear you're the guy who stole King from the Kings" she groaned, they were always saying cheesy stuff like that when she worked with them, Mel coughed on her own beer, "Uh, I don't think you guys really get a say in that." Their opponents laughed at her, "Oh Mel, when it came to you we made our voices heard. I guess some pockets were deeper than others." He gave a pointed look towards Langdon, who didn't even have the decency to look sheepish. In a haze she finishes out the game, winning despite her partner, and drags Frank towards an empty hallway. She hands him a water bottle, "drink this, it'll help your hangover". That wasn't exactly true, but she finally had him where she wanted him and she needed to stick the landing here and now, lest the moment be lost. MDMA is perfectly safe when drinking alcohol. Now she just needed to get him alone so there was no one else to touch when the effects kicked in.

He was all over her that night, but he struggled to get it up long enough to fuck her. When they were back at home she stared longingly at a bottle in her medicine cabinet she swore was her boundary, a line she'd never cross, but a girl had needs and she was tired of playing the long game. Really, it would be recreational use to give it to him unknowingly, its not like he cared about all the drugs before, never interrogated her the next day, never avoided her. Gamma-hydroxybutryic acid was just a scary name for a little guaranteed fun.

When the league drug testers come around by surprise she swaps his sample with her own.

[haroldherald]

[spxllcxstxr]

While You Were Sleeping • J&V

(Gif not mine)

Request: recently discovering your arcane works has seriously made my week, your writing is amazing! if you're still taking reqs, can I pls request a jayvik x they/them reader fic? while viktor and jayce are sleeping soundly at night for once, reader surprises them by coming home unexpectedly. they're also a scientist but travels a lot for work, which leads them to be deeply missed by the two. reader gently nuzzles and kisses them until they realize that they're back! just a very sleepy and loving reunion with these three. I need some healing after the jayvik finale in S2 ;_; thank youu :) — anon

Summary: Coming back late at night from your trip, you didn’t expect to find Jayce and Viktor asleep in your shared bed

Warnings: gn!reader, implied scientist reader, it's just fluff guys lol, no dialogue until the last like third lmao

Word Count: 1.5k

A.N: title is a laufey song 🥴, I hope you enjoy!!!

•

You sigh, heaving your heavy travel bags behind you as you climb up the stairs in front of you. Muttering to yourself, you curse at the amount of things you packed for your trip outside of Piltover. You hadn't gone too far for your research this time, and yet past you decided to pack your entire wardrobe and then some.

The keys to the apartment you shared with your lovers dangle precariously from your pants pocket. At first you thought about heading straight to the lab, considering that was where you would no doubt find Jayce and Viktor, but after days of travel, all you wanted was to be home. The two of them would eventually get home anyway, whether it be just passed midnight or just after dawn, so you determined that there was no harm in settling back in your apartment first.

The lights are off when you enter your apartment, the tick-tocking of the old grandfather clock the only sound echoing in the room as the pendulum swings back and forth. Papers filled with equations and scientific illustrations are strewn across every surface. You huff, rolling your eyes. Your apartment looked exactly as you left it weeks ago. Eyes finally adjusting to the familiar darkness, you also spot a few empty coffee mugs scattered all over and jackets draped across every chair. This was certainly home.

With your bags still in your hands, you continue through your decently sized apartment. You had this place memorized at this point, so walking through it in the dark was simple. You knew exactly where the couch Jayce picked out before even moving in was and where Viktor's oddly shaped bookcase was. The comforting familiarity of your home makes warmth spread through your chest; this was something you, Jayce, and Viktor created together from scratch--it meant more to you than any other place in Runeterra, even the ones vital to your research.

You head straight to your bedroom, the desire to fall into your own bed and drift off to sleep overwhelming at this point.

The room is dark when you enter except for the few white rays of moonlight filtering in through the window. Viktor's cane rests against the nightstand on his side of the bed, metal gleaming in the light.

You furrow your brows in confusion, Viktor being home shocking to you. The lab was practically a second home to Jayce and Viktor. Before dating them, they would spend almost every hour of every day there, tinkering with their inventions. Since starting the relationship, Jayce and Viktor tried really hard to break their habit of spending so much time in their lab, which they were largely successful at. With you away for weeks, however, you knew that they tended to take advantage of it and revert back into their previous mindset.

With the cat away, the mice will play, after all, as they say.

Still at the threshold with you bags at your sides, your eyes land on your two lovers laying in bed.

Viktor is curled up beside Jayce, who softly snores against your partner's hairline. You stop at the end of the bed, the tension in your shoulders easing up at the scene before you. Though two blankets cover them, the tips of Viktor's long fingers peek out from the top, showing that his hand is splayed lightly against Jayce's chest, right over his heart.

In the pale moonlight, your lovers look ethereal. The light drapes them in a silvery hue, the luminosity a stark contrast from the rest of the dark room. Jayce and Viktor, with their skin bathed in radiance, are oblivious to your tender gaze.

Smiling softly you feel your heart melt in your chest. This was what you especially missed on your travels. The beds you always wound up in were empty and cold. No amount of blankets piled atop your figure could mimic the warmth Jayce radiated, nor could any pillow replace the comfort of his chest against your cheek. Viktor wasn’t there to hold your hand in his sleep either. There were no golden or amber eyes brightened by the early sunlight gazing at you when you woke up either. You had grown accustomed to the comforting presence of your lovers over the years that you always forget how lonesome travelling could be.

It was a privilege to be able to travel across Runeterra for your research, you knew that; but the absence of your lovers late at night always made you dreadfully homesick.

Quietly, you move around the room in order to change into something better suited for bed. As you change, bags still abandoned near the door, waiting to be unpacked, your partners continue to sleep.

Changed into more comfortable clothes, you ease into bed, slipping underneath the blankets. Viktor continues to mumble incoherently while Jayce shifts, his snoring easing up like he senses your presence. You drape an arm across his chest, fingertips brushing against Viktor's. With your body pressed close to Jayce's, you place kisses along his jawline, the smell of his aftershave lingering on his skin.

Again, he shifts against you, head turning slowly to face you.

"Wha's goin' on?" Jayce sleepily mumbles, eyes slowly opening. The moonlight must be harsh on his bleary eyes because it takes a moment or two for him to fully grasp his surroundings.

His gaze locks onto your own, eyes widening as a grin slowly appears across his face. That small but noticeable gap between his two front teeth has you mirroring his smile tenfold. His brown hair is messy from moving around in his sleep, loose strands dangle in front of his face as he raises his head from the pillow.

"You're home early!" You can tell that he's just barely containing his excitement--he's hardly whispering and already shifting under Viktor's grasp in order to get closer to you.

Before you’re able to respond, Jayce’s lips are on yours, kissing you like his life depends on it. An arm wraps around your midsection, hand resting against the small of your back, and pushes you impossibly closer to himself. You can feel his heart beat beneath his white shirt.

“Gods, I missed you…” He says after pulling away. His eyes shine as he scans over your face as if he’s forgotten what you looked like in only a few weeks.

“I missed you too, Jay…” A hand rises to gently stroke his cheek, something he leans into.

A disgruntled noise erupts from behind your partner and you both turn to check up on Viktor.

Disrupted from his sleep, Viktor playfully glares at the two of you. To anyone else it would appear as though Viktor was absolutely livid with the rude awakening, but you and Jayce knew him better than anyone else; he was happy you were home safe, happy that he could feel complete once again.

"You two truly are incapable of whispering, hm?" His voice is deeper, accent thick with each syllable.

Viktor just looks tired, his pale skin is accompanied by dark bruises under each eye. It certainly looks as if he's spent every hour at the lab recently.

"Hello to you too, Vik. I missed you very much." You tease, leaning over Jayce to capture Viktor's lips.

"I missed you very much, sweetling..." He huffs, moving closer to Jayce in order to meet your lips half way.

Jayce settles on the bed between you, back pressed against the mattress and opens both of his arms for you and Viktor to cuddle into.

"You'll have to tell us all about your adventures---" Jayce starts, fingertips dancing lazily against your back.

"It wasn't like it was a vacation, Jay, I still had work to do." You cuddle closer to Jayce, the warmth radiating from his body making you yawn tiredly. Viktor, though dressed in a comfortable long sleeved shirt with two blankets on top of him, does the same, hoping to take all his partner's body heat for himself.

"Sure, but you were not stuck in the Academy's dungeon staring at the hex gem for hours upon hours upon hours..." Viktor sleepily trails off, his face already buried in the crook of Jayce's neck.

You pull the blankets up to your neck and place a hand on top of Viktor's, which rests on Jayce's chest. His fingertips are cold as ice, as they usually were. You feel your eyelids start to droop, each blink getting longer.

"Why don't we go to sleep, darling? You can tell us all about it in the morning. Maybe me and Vik could spend the day outside of the lab and get some fresh air." Jayce whispers, sensing your exhaustion.

You hum as he kisses the top of your head. He murmurs something along the lines of "goodnight" and "I love you," but it all becomes a blur as you drift off to sleep; finally in your own bed in your own home surrounded by your partners.

•

[sillyswriting]

: ̗̀➛ zombie apocalypse simon 'ghost' riley - 01

𝖼𝗐 : 𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗍𝗌 𝗈𝖿 𝗆𝖾𝗇 𝖺𝖻𝗎𝗌𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗈𝖿 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗂𝗋 𝗉𝗈𝗐𝖾𝗋, 𝗌𝖾𝗑𝗎𝖺𝗅 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗆𝖾

ㅤㅤ     ㅤ  ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤcollection - prev ⋆ next

your life was a disaster. you never imagined you'd find yourself on a treasure hunt to track down some guy from a task force, with a man you barely knew, while people were coming back from the dead. but, in a way, you were one of the lucky ones.

this mess had started about ten months ago. if it wasn't for the masked brute you'd been traveling with, you'd be long dead by now. it was weird how fast things had changed. you'd gone from one of the best nights of your life with the stranger you took home from the bar to the worst days of your life. you must have been an angel in a past life because, in the horror that was the end of the world, you'd ended up with simon riley.

the reason you were in manchester that night was still unknown to you. you'd felt the need to go there. living about 30 minutes away from the city, you'd just wanted to go out. none of your friends had joined you-it was the middle of the week-but you'd recently lost your job, so nothing was stopping you. he was the first man you noticed, and the only one, because he was so intriguing. you had no shame and went straight to him, two beers in your hands. oddly enough, the masked stranger had accepted the drink and even agreed to talk to you. one thing led to another, and you ended the night in his bed. he made you stay the night-you had no say in the decision. turned out, he saved your life.

the next morning, the dead were walking and killing. and just like a stray cat from the street, simon decided to keep you. one glance at you, and anyone could tell you couldn't defend yourself in a life-or-death situation. simon was military-he'd told you it was his job to protect assets. so here you were, months later, walking to god knows where to find a "soap", a "gaz", and "the captain". apparently, they all lived close by, except for simon who, ever the black sheep, lived kilometers away from his team. again, you had no say.

the most surprising thing about this mess you were in was that you had yet to see simon's face. you'd asked why the mask, and the only answer you got was, "enemies everywhere"

well, you were pretty certain his enemies were most likely dead by now, or at the very least, they had other things to worry about than hunting him down. you didn't really push it, but you did point out how silly his reasoning sounded. that earned you three days of cold shoulder from the lieutenant.

during your time together, you had learned to rely on one another, and you learned to trust. it wasn't an easy thing, though-simon had a tendency to either treat you like a soldier or like a child.

to simon, you reminded him of johnny. you were always cheerful, always joking, and, damn, always talking. had you been scottish, he would've asked if you didn't have a brother in the army. he never would've thought the cute girl from the bar would become someone important in his life, but here he was. even though he didn't show it, he'd go to hell and back for you. in reality, simon was like a mean dog. at first, he was hard to come around, grunting a lot and showing his teeth at any major inconvenience. but with time, if he took a liking to you, you were done for. good luck trying to get rid of him. they didn't call him ghost for nothing-he'd follow you everywhere, and you wouldn't even know he was there.

and simon liked you. so he was dead set on keeping anything from ever happening to you-which was difficult in a world where the dead were trying to eat you, and the remaining living folks were even more dangerous. he had training; he knew what stressful situations like these could do to people, but what had happened in the first few weeks was unlike anything he'd ever seen.

people had turned on each other, killing over nothing. men took advantage of their power to force women to go with them, to do unspeakable things in the name of protection. it made simon sick. back in the middle east, and throughout his life, he had seen what men were capable of. but he was confident in his abilities and his training-no one would get to you as long as he was alive.

the other task at hand was to find his team. the first few days, he had been able to contact them, but their emergency radio had been dead silent ever since. he knew the chances of finding them were getting slimmer every day, but moving was better for surviving. and since simon was the one scouting the places, he made sure the houses you stayed in only had one bed. and it wasn't as if you were complaining.

the night you spent with simon back in manchester had been the best night of your life. he was so dedicated to pleasuring you, and he liked having control. every time you made your way into a safe house, you were excited to see only one bed. meaning your big man would be lying next to you, his warmth radiating off him like a bloody furnace. it always ended up the same way: you scratching his back, shoulders, torso-anything you could reach, really-and him grunting in your ears.

another great thing about the end of the world was that you didn't have to put labels on confusing relationships. sometimes, you and simon acted like an old married couple, bickering over trivial things, laughing at each other, and other times, it felt like you two were the worst enemies in the world. you knew you weren't the easiest person to get along with: you talked too much, were too sarcastic, too sensitive and emotional, but simon wasn't a ray of sunshine either. he was quick to anger, snapped a lot, and was very bad at communicating. every time something bothered him, he shut you out, not talking to you for hours.

he really was a mean dog. he bit, but wasn't always sure why. and you? you were like the annoying little kitten he had found in the gutter, stuck with him. and yet, both of you wouldn't have it any other way.

[crescenthistory]

while we're both here; part five

Synopsis: Being loved may be difficult, but loving one another isn't, and you find that maybe, just maybe, it's worth the work. After reconnecting, Remus goes to find you outside the infirmary for once.

Words: 2.1k

Tags: fem!reader, undisclosed chronic illness that causes you pain and fatigue (writer has EDS and POTS), remus pov, fluff, some hurt/comfort, physical affection, remus' lycanthropy and related theatrics, disabled!remus, remus is slowly healing, establishing the relationship, happy and hopeful ending

previous part | series masterlist

Note: this is the final official part:,) however, if you liked their story and want to see drabble-form snippets of various points in their relationship, shoot me a request!

There is a disturbing amount of emotions swirling around in the cavity of Remus’ chest. 

Hope, shame, affection, insecurity, assuredness, mixing down the drain. To drown out the chaos, he tries to let your voice in his head guide him to focus on the ones that are worthwhile.

His cane is a heavy and comforting weight in his hand as he hobbled probably a little too fast on his way to his destination; he has not the patience for his hips and knees to keep up with him, for he is a man on a mission.

Tucked away beneath his pillow in the dorm he just left behind – his mates’ chuffed sniggers following him down the hall – is a magical map that he had hunted you down on, his finger tracing the ink that spelled out your name in a faraway corner of the library. With the end of year etching closer, it made sense that you would be holed up there with your final essays.

Before summer comes in to affect your dynamic, Remus had an overwhelming desire to spend time with you outside the infirmary. He doubted a change of scenery would affect his feelings for you, it was more so the growing incessant need to be close to you. This is the most real thing he had ever had the terrifying pleasure of having, and even so, he felt a need to further cement whatever you had to ensure it stays that way.

The cold stones surrounding him as he walked the final stretch to the library were familiar, the confines of a home he has had for years on end. He was still overwhelmed by the thought that he would get to leave with a found family of best mates, something he never expected. To think that he might have found love, too, was more than he could handle.

Might. Remus chuckled at himself. Not many nights have passed since you were cleared by Madam Pomfrey to go back to your real dorm, but even during that short period of time, Remus knew better than to question it.

He was in love. 

Perhaps that was stupid of him, perhaps his father would even tell him as much if he dared have you over, if he dared make plans for the future that included you. Nevertheless, it was Remus’ reality.

The most tangible evidence of his love was now just a few metres away – he memorised exactly which spot you sat in – as he entered the Hogwarts Library, gait somewhat crooked. His cane was a deep maroon, given to him as a gift from James and his parents a few Christmases ago. You had recently helped Remus decorate it by wrapping a string of tiny crocheted silver stars around it, spelling it to stay put and sparkle. 

He felt oddly confident walking through the library with this cane as an amalgamation of the people he loved most; a far cry from the embarrassed 12 year old who once roamed the halls with a plastic crutch.

You had chosen a secluded corner of the library, hidden away by yourself in an alcove carved into the stone wall, lined with flickering candles on the walls and padded with purple cushions. A shy smile spread over Remus’ face as he saw you, taking in the way you sat crisscrossed on the bench, absentmindedly massaging your calves while you read the massive book laid down in front of you, dust dancing out from it in the sunlight. The same sunlight caressed your skin beautifully, drawing forth your inner shine that always captivated Remus so.

You hadn’t noticed him yet. Remus slowly closed in on you, too distracted by your familiar beauty to take a closer look at what book you’re reading.

As if you picked up on the distinct sound of Remus’ steps, you looked up. Surprise flashed in your eyes for but a second before they were filled with a warmth that made his fingertips tingle, a barely subdued grin taking over your expression.

“Hi there, stranger,” you said quietly as he got closer, leaning forward on the table. “Fancy seeing you here.”

“You mean outside the infirmary?” Remus stopped in front of your table, leaning his good hip against it and crossing his arms. The polite almost-flirting tone he extended you when you first met felt much more genuine now, abated by slight nerves. He added softly, “Hey, dove.”

Remus let himself believe you relaxed at the sound of his voice, pushing down the sensation of how dangerously far gone he was becoming.

“I thought you boys were banned from the library,” you teased, smile prevalent. You lifted a challenging brow at him.

“Ah, no, that's just James and Sirius. Wormtail and I are still in Madam Pince’s good books, and are trying to use our repertoire with her to get them unbanned.” Remus’ eyes filled with even more mirth at the snort you let out at his friend’s nickname.

“Well, I’m glad to see you. What’re you here for?”

At that, Remus reached up to scratch the back of his head, chuckling nervously. Normally he might have tried to play it off, but after your conversation about openness and honesty, he couldn’t even bring himself to want to do that.  “I came looking for you, actually. Figured you might fancy some company?”

Might fancy spending time with me, specifically, he hoped silently.

Your eyes crinkled as you let out a soft laugh. “I– yeah, of course. Settle down.”

Remus did, resting his cane against the table carefully before he slid in on the opposite side of the alcove, all the way around so he almost sat arm in arm with you. Close enough that your knee brushed his thigh in its curled up position. 

Only then did the illustration on the book in front of you catch his eye – a sketch of the different moon phases.

His breath caught in his throat as he froze, properly focussing on the book now. It was massive and clearly ancient, the ink meandering across the space, one repeated word seemingly screaming out at him: “The Wolf”, always capitalised.

He didn’t know how to process what he saw, so he just looked up at you, lips quivering as if uncertain whether to smile and frown. His silent question floated between you.

You acted nonplussed, but it was clearly a put-on front, shyness and fondness simmering beneath the surface. “This one’s quite outdated,” you began to explain, “but I figured it’s helpful to read how academics used to discuss the matter to better understand how lycanthropy was received over the years. I finished reading Scamander’s take on it earlier, which was much more empathetic and refined.” Beside you was a small notebook that Remus could now see was nearly full, your quill resting on top of it, still wet .

Remus’ lips remained slightly parted, his voice hoarse as he spoke. “You… you’re doing research? For… me?”

You shrugged, as if this didn’t turn his world upside down, as if it didn’t mean everything to him and more. “I mean, you did it for me. With everything. And I know it’s much harder to find muggle medical textbooks in a place like this than it is to find information about lycanthropes.”

The laugh that escaped him was wet and breathy, his mind still not having quite caught up. “It wasn’t that difficult, Madam Pince is rather helpful. And this… this is something else entirely, dove.��

“I just don’t want a lack of knowledge to be a barrier between us,” you said quietly, seemingly trying to downplay the care in your gesture. “I want you to be able to speak freely with me about lycanthropy, without me having to ask about everything.” Remus opened his mouth to answer, but you hurriedly added, “Though, of course, if you want to explain something yourself, please do. Lived experience always trumps dusty books.”

He stared at you with nothing short of awe, uncertain what to say and whether you would ever understand how much this meant to him. There were no words, so all he could offer was, “You, uh, can just call us werewolves. Lycanthropy is a mouthful.”

Your smile suggested his expression was easy to read. “Alright, I will,” you whispered, voice soft.

“Thank you, love. Really.” He let out a longer breath, relaxing into his seat and looking sideways at you with a quivering smile. “You’re really doing this for me?”

“Of course. I want to be there for you.” You held his gaze up until that point before swallowing, looking down to your book. “Friends, right?”

Remus knew, in his heart of hearts, that it was now or never.

“Right. And… and if I wanted to be more than friends? If I wanted to spend time with you, not just while we’re both here, but when we’re anywhere, together?”

Your previously shy smile became borderline unabashed now, lighting up both his life and your eyes as you met his again. “Then, I guess I would ask you why you haven’t invited me to Hogsmeade yet?”

Remus’ heart thundered in his chest as he placed his hands on the table, slowly circling his pinky around yours. This felt like a dream. “Well, I’ve seen how you always flare up afterwards. I didn’t want that to happen because of me.”

Which was true. It was also because he was a coward, but he figured you didn’t need to hear that; he was certain you already knew. He was a lucky bastard, though, because you didn’t seem to mind.

You laughed good-naturedly, shaking your head. “I have a flare-up every two to three business days, Lupin. If I have one because I get to spend time with you, it would have been a worthy sacrifice, at least in my books.”

“Yeah?” Remus breathed out, feeling like he was floating on air. Like the unbelievable had happened – because it had. He was walking with someone, and that someone was you.

“Yeah.” You nodded emphatically, emotion swirling in your gorgeous eyes.

Remus used his pinky around yours to properly intertwine your hands. Passerbys would see you holding hands and sitting close in a library alcove, and probably assume you were together. The thought exhilarated him even more when he realised they wouldn’t be far off. 

“This Friday good for you?” he asked.

“Yeah, I think so. Hope so.” You looked somewhat nervous, but he could tell it was because of you and not because of him or the prospect of going out. He squeezed your hand.

“If it winds up being a bad day, we can always just spend the night in the infirmary, dove. I would like to be anywhere with you, familiar or new,” he murmured reassuringly.

Your eyes softened as you held his gaze, whatever slight tension that had been building in your shoulders melting away. Remus dared think you looked like you felt safe. “Thank you,” you mumbled. “The sentiment is shared.”

You leaned sideways to rest your head on his shoulder, shuffling closer so that you could lean your crisscrossed knee on top of his thigh. Each place where your bodies touched served as a grounding point for Remus, anchoring himself to you and the world. He was beginning to understand what peace feels like.

Abruptly, your head shot up and you furrowed your brows at him, as if struck with a thought. “Wait– how did you know I would be here?” you wondered, voice not accusatory but certainly intrigued.

Remus let out a breathy laugh, not having expected to have to explain himself. Though, for once, he found himself not opposed to doing so. “Oh, that, uh– that is one of the many secrets of mine that I’ll be peeling open for you, love. Though, preferably somewhere less crowded.”

You made a show of looking around at the sparse students sitting scattered at tables around you, as if you were undercover detectives on high alert. “You and your secrets, Remus Lupin.”

“They’re all yours, if you want them.” His voice was more suave than he was feeling.

Your smile widened just for him. “I want them.”

Remus’ heart chose to interpret that as I want you. “I’ll spill it all in private, dovey, just you wait.”

You leaned further against him, smile taking on a more deviant undertone. “Are you saying you want to whisk me away to somewhere more intimate, then?”

The tops of Remus’ ears felt warm in a way that warned him they were surely turning red. He swallowed heavily, but it didn’t diminish his wide smile.

“I would love nothing more, dove.”

And that, he did.

[demonic0angel]

Blackbat, Red hood, and Red Robin are investigating the Cult of the Ghost King, which has recently moved into Gotham. They get caught up in a ritual and sent to the dp universe, right on top of team Phantom.

"The circle's activating! Hood, do something!" Red Robin screamed.

Red Hood was only able to pull out his sword for only a moment before the ritual activated and then they were transported. Red Hood grabbed both Black Bat and Red Robin, using his armor to cushion them both after being tossed out of the circle. Breathlessly, they were thrown onto hard ground.

... and something soft?

The three jumped to their feet and looked at their surroundings.

What they had landed on was a very unfortunate plant.

"Crap! Sam's Lilith Vines!" One person said and they looked in that direction, seeing a group of four people stare back at them, one of them looking very contrite. “She’s going to kill me if she sees that they’re crushed!”

Another looked at the four with an extremely worried expression on her face. “Uh. This wasn’t supposed to happen, was it?”

The tallest one, who had a black veil over her head, said, “Oh dear. D— Your Majesty, I think this is related to the summoning circles that were copied from the palace libraries.”

Said Majesty, who had been looking at them with irritation, crumpled to his knees with a wail. “Dammit! Not again! Why?! I hate the damn cults!”

The last person said with a hum and a smirk on his green skin, “It didn’t work though. It transported people to us instead of the opposite. Hah! Humans are so incompetent.”

Red Hood stood up first, brandishing his All-Blades. He could definitely feel some sort of evil presence amongst the four and neither he nor his siblings could recognize their surroundings, only seeing a green world with floating doors and islands. “Who the hell are you?! You better answer, or I’ll cut you down!”

The tall one gasped. “Oh! The All-Blades! That’s amazing, I can’t believe that there’s someone in the mortal realm who’s been able to learn—”

“Jazz, please do not fangirl right now.”

Red Robin stepped up, inspecting the group of four as he interrupted their yammering. “Can you tell us what’s going on? We don’t want a fight. We need to get back home.”

Black Bat’s posture was relaxed, which was a good sign. However, Red Hood and Red Robin still stood side-by-side in preparation for a fight from the four beings that were clearly not fully human, evident by their glowing hair and eyes and hidden appearance.

The four all shared a look.

The tall one approached Red Hood and gently lowered the blade of his swords. Red Hood stiffened but allowed it, as the touch of the All-Blades did not affect her. Underneath her veil, was a small smile and both Red Robin and Black Bat shared an exasperated look as Red Hood visibly grew flustered, straightening his back and rolling back his shoulders.

“We’d be happy to help you get back home. I’m afraid that this is… a byproduct of a problem we had a while ago.” There was a cough from behind her that she ignored. Black Bat tilted her head and looked behind Red Hood’s back to stare at the other three as they stifled their laughter and pointed coughs. “We’ll help you in any way we can.”

Red Hood could still sense the evil presence, but the woman in front of him was warm and reassuring. His blades didn’t give any sign of trickery, so he finally tucked them away with a stiff nod.

“Yes please. Lead the way, princess.” His face felt oddly warm as the tall woman gave him another sweet smile, partially covered by her veil.

One of the beings, small and male, nodded his head and said, “Alright, follow me. I’m the Ghost King. We’ll bring you three home safe and sound, on my honor. Promise.”

[bellaxgiornata]

You Are My Sunshine [1]

Pairing: Jax Teller x Fem!Reader Word count: 5.3k [Series Masterlist] [Jax Teller Masterlist]

Summary: Recently released from a stint in Stockton Prison with a few of the Sons, Jax is still struggling with Tara returning to Chicago over a year after he killed Agent Kohn for her. When he returned to Charming, Jax noticed a coffee shop had sprung up across the street from Teller-Morrow Automotive and the clubhouse, oddly finding himself watching the strangely cheerful owner through the windows. One night he feels drawn to step inside, but he's left even more confused when the owner feels like the embodiment of sunshine itself. Jax quickly realizes that the more he visits her shop, the more at peace he finds himself.

Warnings/tags: 18+; sunshine!Reader/grumpy!Jax (somewhat), fluff, angst, friends to lovers, eventual smut, canon divergent, canon typical violence (more tags to possibly come)

a/n: Not everything will be true to canon in this little series, and this first part starts out in Jax's POV. I just couldn't resist the idea of Jax with someone so bright and bubbly bringing some happiness his way. As a note since I'm newer in the SoA fanfic scene, I always do my best to refrain from adding physical descriptions to Readers, but they are still some form of a character personality-wise. Feedback and reblogs are always appreciated!

Placing the cigarette between his lips, Jax flipped open his lighter and held the flame up to the tip of it. He was itching for something right now–a smoke, a drink, a fuck, a fight. He couldn’t quite tell the difference anymore. Everything felt the same–a neverending blur. The days had all begun to bleed together ever since he and the guys had been released from Stockton the other month. 

And everything felt the goddamn same as it did before he'd gone in.

Taking a drag on the cigarette, he pocketed the lighter and leant back against the brick of the clubhouse behind him. Laughter and blaring music was pouring out of the building, the noise always far too loud to be contained by the structure. The Sons were partying again tonight, celebrating a successful closure of a deal from earlier in the day. But for some reason Jax hadn’t felt like partying. The air in the clubhouse felt suffocating, which was why he’d stepped outside into the balmy summer night for a cigarette instead.

As a trail of smoke curled its way upwards from between his lips, Jax stared vacantly across the otherwise empty lot, his eyes landing on the line of motorcycles across from him. His mind inevitably wandered back to Tara while he smoked, something it often did ever since she’d reappeared in his life over a year ago just to disappear all over again. Running away. That's what she had always done best.

He hated that he couldn’t get her out of his head even after all this time. But what he hated even more was that part of him still felt like it was holding onto the ridiculous hope that she’d come back to him. That she might wake up one day and return to Charming and somehow just accept him for who he was, who he'd always been. But that was a fucking bullshit hope and he knew it.

Jax’s jaw clenched in irritation, his fingers tightening around his cigarette as he drew it back up to his lips for another sharp inhale. It was impossible not to think that Tara had used him just to get rid of Kohn knowing that he’d be sympathetic to her situation. Knowing damn well that Jax would never have just walked away when she came to him for help. And it pissed him off that she’d played him like that–that he had let her play him like that. Especially when he’d been so fucking vulnerable after Abel had been born with all of his health complications weighing on his mind. 

He had needed her in return, but Tara hadn’t cared about what Jax was going through. She hadn’t cared about the fact that until that moment, Jax had never killed like he'd killed that night  for her. Every time before had always been for the club���for self-defense, retaliation. But that night? That night it had been out of love. It had been because he'd been protecting someone he cared about. And Tara had thrown him away a second time right afterwards, not even bothering to think about how any of it had affected Jax.

Movement across the street caught Jax’s attention, breaking through his spiraling, agitated thoughts. His head turned as he stood in the dimly lit parking lot, pulling the cigarette away from his lips and blowing out a plume of smoke as his eyes landed on you across the street through the large glass windows of your coffee shop. 

Honest Coffee. You’d opened it at some point when he and a few of the Sons had been doing a few months in Stockton, but ever since he’d gotten out, he’d found his gaze drawn across the street to that building more times than he’d ever willingly care to admit. And he wasn’t entirely sure why, either. Jax was not the kind of guy you’d find sitting inside of a coffee shop sipping on some fancy ass, overly sweetened and overpriced bullshit cup of coffee. That wasn’t his thing. So of course he’d never actually ventured inside the shop that had opened up across the street from the clubhouse and Teller-Morrow Automotive.

But for some goddamn reason he couldn’t help but look.

The entire place stood out amongst the old, worn brick buildings beside it. You’d painted the exterior brick white and hung up some bold, black sign with the shop’s name on it above the entrance. There were even a few little tables and chairs on the sidewalk out front along with writing on one of the large glass windows that read ‘Support your local caffeine dealer.’ Which, for some goddamn reason, amused Jax to no end considering your shop was located across the street from actual arms dealers. 

And there were plants. Goddamn, the amount of plants. A few large potted ones sat outside by the front doors, and there were a handful hanging over all of the large open windows. And, from what Jax had been able to see when he’d ridden past the place multiple times, you had plants on the tables inside, too. So many fucking plants it was like you were making coffee in a damn jungle. He didn’t understand why you had so many or how the hell they always looked like they were thriving. He’d often heard Gemma even compliment the goddamn plants the few times she’d stopped over to get herself coffee.

But it wasn’t entirely the plants or what you’d done to the building to make it appear so warm and inviting in downtown Charming that had him constantly staring across the street. It was you, if he was being honest with himself. You were always working there. He’d already come to assume that you were more than just a barista and that you actually owned the coffee shop with how frequently you were there. And you were attractive, that wasn’t even remotely a question. But you were nothing like the women at the clubhouse, or Redwoody, or Diosa. Where most of the women he’d encountered in his life were all rough and hard edges, you always seemed so soft and sweet. Like a warmth just radiated off of you everytime you smiled. 

And you were always fucking smiling over there. Whenever Jax watched you through the windows, whether he was outside having a smoke with the guys or by himself, you were guaranteed to be standing somewhere in that shop talking to someone with a smile on your face. Despite the fact that he didn't understand how one damn person could smile so damn much in a day, he’d sometimes found himself wondering what it would be like to see that smile up close, to have it directed at himself. There was just something about it, even from this distance across the street, that made it look different from any other smile he felt like he’d been given in his life. Like it was real and not covering a hidden agenda. 

Jax took a final drag on his cigarette before tossing it to the ground beside his feet, crushing it out beneath his shoe. His eyes were still on you through those large glass windows as he did. It looked like you were closing up the shop for the day. You were alone inside, the entire place empty as you swept the floor with a broom. But it almost looked like you were dancing as you cleaned, your hips swaying as your lips moved. The corner of Jax’s lips twisted upwards faintly at the sight. Who the hell were you? You were cleaning in an empty shop in downtown Charming, all alone just after sunset, across the street from the disliked and notorious motorcycle club, and you were dancing as you swept?

Who the fuck looked so happy to be cleaning?

Without even thinking, Jax pushed off the wall of the clubhouse and let his feet carry him away from the party raging behind him. An incredulous look was etched across his usually hard features as he began to cross the empty street and make his way towards your coffee shop. Eventually he came to a stop just outside of the front door, his hands tucked into the pockets of his jeans as he watched the back of you for a minute through the windows. Unquestionably you were inside dancing and sweeping as you listened to–what Jax assumed as he stood just outside–stupid coffee shop music. An amused huff came out of him as he shook his head at the sight.

Not even bothering to check if your shop was closed on the hours listed on the door, Jax slipped a hand out of his pocket and pulled it open. No bell chimed to alert you of his presence, meaning you continued your cleaning and soft singing to yourself with your back facing him, completely unaware you had a customer. A smug smirk tugged at his lips as he sauntered further inside the shop, making his way over to the counter near the register before resting an arm against the white countertop. He leaned his weight against it, crossing his ankles as his head cocked to the side, his blue eyes fixed on you. 

Christ, you looked adorable. Not a thought he often had about women. Usually he went for the ones at the clubhouse barely dressed in much of anything who were always very eager to spend the night with him. Even a few of the girls at Diosa and the pornstars at Redwoody that had sometimes caught his eye would never have been called anything close to ‘adorable’ by Jax. But you just looked so goddamn sweet and you hadn’t even noticed him standing behind you staring.

Clearing his throat, Jax figured he should probably alert you to his presence. He didn’t want to scare you, which he had a feeling might happen if you turned around and spotted someone that looked like him just quietly watching you.

“Don’t think I’ve ever seen someone look so damn happy sweeping a floor before,” Jax called out.

The way you startled at his voice, spinning around abruptly with a soft, surprised gasp while throwing a hand over your heart, had a pleased grin growing on Jax’s face. You looked so surprised with your wide eyes and parted lips. He almost wanted to laugh, but instead he bit his bottom lip and held the sound back. 

“Relax, darlin’. I’m not here to rob your coffee shop,” he teased.

Almost immediately your expression shifted, the look of surprise disappearing and being replaced with a friendly smile that lit up your entire face. The sight of it did something to Jax, taking him by surprise. Because it was nighttime, you were alone in your shop, and here Jax had stood unannounced behind you, and yet your reaction was to just smile at him like he was some old friend you’d been expecting to see?

A soft laugh fell from your lips as Jax watched you turn around towards him, leaning some of your weight against the broom handle in your hands while your eyes took in the sight of him. He noticed the way you'd briefly scanned his kutte, but that kind smile remained stretched across your pretty mouth when your gaze once more met his.

“I wasn't thinking you were going to, you just startled me,” you answered. “You're extremely quiet on your feet, you know.”

Jax chuckled at the comment, his grin growing a little more amused. If only you knew the half of it.

“I may have been told that a time or two,” he replied, his eyes still taking you in without a hint of subtlety.

“Well,” you began, a playful lilt to your tone, completely unbothered by his gaze, “you know what they say about strange men showing up unannounced after closing, don’t you?”

Completely thrown by the unexpected teasing question coming from someone who looked as sweet as you, Jax couldn’t fight back the small chuckle that managed to fall out of him. “No, darlin’, I don’t. What do they say?” he asked.

Your perceptive eyes, which were still lit from the warmth of your smile, watched the way Jax continued to lean so casually against the countertop. You didn't appear even remotely fazed by his presence here and he found that so incredibly odd. 

“That they want a coffee,” you answered matter-of-factly.

Jax raised a brow curiously at your response, your smile somehow widening even further on your lips. You were not what he'd expected–and he'd already expected you to be something sweet and nice. But it was almost like you were more than even just that. It felt like the goddamn sun was shining on him when you smiled at him, and he didn't know what to make of it. No one in Charming that was an outsider to the club was this kind and friendly to its members. Most of the town had a healthy fear and a good amount of disdain at this point for the Sons.

But not you, apparently.

“Thought you were closing?” Jax asked, shaking the thoughts from his mind as he eyed you curiously. 

You laughed lightly yet again, turning and resting the broom against the shop’s counter now. “Didn't stop you from sneaking in, friend.” You glanced over your shoulder at him, completely genuine in your question as you asked, “So, would you like a coffee?”

An amused noise of disbelief rumbled out of Jax. You spoke to him as if he was any other goddamn customer coming into your shop. He'd never been treated so normal before. 

“Guess if you're offering, sweetheart, then yes,” he finally answered. Jax moved over, lowering himself into one of the chairs at the small counter as he watched you make your way around it. “Though I can't say I'd normally be caught dead ordering anything from a coffee shop.”

Coming to a stop in front of him just on the other side of the counter, your head tilted curiously to the side as you studied him closely. Jax stiffened under the weight of your gaze. It almost felt like you were seeing right through him with the way your eyes ran over his face so carefully. As if you were really taking him in. He wondered what you saw when you looked at him, but then that damn sweet smile was plastered across your lips again before you were speaking.

“Then I'm honored to be the first. And,” you continued, the sound of your voice somehow temporarily soothing that constant burning rage inside of Jax, “I'll even make it on the house. Free of charge this time.”

Jax blinked back at you, stunned into silence for a moment. But then he shook his head, waving a hand at you. “Not gonna let you do that, darlin’. I can pay for a coffee.”

“Didn't say you couldn't, I'm just trying to spread some kindness. Looks you've had a rough day,” you replied, a softness in your voice that wasn't there a moment ago. But then the bright, playfulness was back as you pointed a finger at him. “You look like a regular coffee kind of guy. No creamer, bit of sugar. Am I right?” 

“I…yeah,” Jax answered, a little taken aback at how quickly you'd read him and how easily you spoke to him. “Yeah, I am.”

“There's sweetener on that counter behind you,” you said, gesturing at something behind Jax before you turned around.

He glanced briefly over his shoulder at what you’d pointed out before he focused back on you. Watching in silence, his eyes remained on the back of you as you started on his cup of coffee, but his brows soon furrowed as he watched you work. He'd never seen someone make coffee the way you were doing now. What in the hell were you doing?

“Don't you just...have a machine, sweetheart?” Jax asked slowly.

A soft laugh came from you as you worked, your back to him as you answered. “Pour over is better than drip. I promise.” Glancing over your shoulder, you smiled at him once more. “Just trust me.”

Still baffled and confused as to what in the hell you were doing, he couldn't help but to keep watching you in silence, completely confused as to how in the hell you were making him what should be just a simple cup of coffee. He really never had stepped foot into a coffee shop before–a big chain one or a locally owned place. He didn’t even know why he’d crossed the street and come over here in the first place, especially with the party going on at the clubhouse where he was supposed to be. 

Lost in his thoughts, Jax’s eyes inevitably dropped down to your ass, taking in the shape of it in your jeans. His head tilted appreciatively to the side as his attention focused on that instead of trying to understand the strange pull he'd felt to step inside your shop once and for all tonight. His tongue slipped out, running along the length of his bottom lip as he took in the unobstructed view before him. You filled your jeans out damn good.

“So you got a name, friend?” you asked, your voice breaking through his thoughts. “Or am I just supposed to keep calling you ‘friend’?”

Jax found himself mentally chastising himself at your interruption, his eyes moving back to yours as you turned around, leaning your back against the counter behind you. There was a sincere expression on your face, like you actually cared to know who he was, and that had him feeling guilty for the way he'd just been looking at you. You weren't like the girls he surrounded himself with, you were actually good. He shouldn't be eyeing you like that. There was no way in hell you'd ever be interested in a man like him, and you definitely didn't look like the one-and-done kind of girl.

“It's Jax,” he answered. “Jax Teller. You got a name, darlin’?”

A small smile curled the corners of his lips upwards when you gave him your name so easily. He had a feeling this was one of the rare times he wouldn't just immediately forget a woman's name after she'd given it to him. 

“You always this cheerful, darlin’?” he asked next, unable to resist the question that had been gradually growing in his mind the longer he sat here. “Or is this some professional, friendly barista persona that you throw on when you're here at work?”

Jax watched as you turned around to the back counter against the tiled wall again, picking up the strange glass container you'd just made the coffee in before pouring it into a to-go cup for him. You were quiet as you worked before turning around and crossing the space over to where Jax was sitting. Reaching a hand out, Jax accepted the coffee from yours, but when his rough fingers brushed against your soft ones, he felt the corners of his lips twitch.

“Owner,” you said softly, your hands resting on the countertop. “Not a barista. And it's not a persona I throw on for work, this is just me.”

Jax’s brows drew together at that as he got off his chair and made his way over to the counter by the entrance to add in some sweetener to the coffee. How the hell was anyone just that friendly and cheerful naturally? Without it being a front? But as he stirred his coffee, wandering back over to the counter and taking his seat again, he noticed that you looked sincere.

“How the hell are you this friendly to everyone?” he asked, sitting back down in the chair at the counter, his coffee momentarily forgotten.

“Because I like being nice,” you simply replied.

Jax made a face at that answer. Who the fuck liked being nice all of the time? That had to be bullshit. There had to be people you didn't like, people that you weren't quite so kind towards. People like him who definitely didn't deserve an ounce of kindness.

“Bullshit,” Jax argued, eyes narrowing at you in suspicion. “There's gotta be rude customers you aren't such a ray of sunshine towards, right? Bad people you don't want in here?”

He watched as your fingers lightly drummed against the countertop, your smile smaller but not gone from your lips. Almost like it was just a permanent fixture on your face.

“I believe everyone deserves some kindness,” you answered genuinely after a moment, holding Jax’s gaze. “Because you never know the weight of what someone is carrying on their shoulders. And sometimes, all someone needs is a kind word or a smile in their day.”

Jax just sat there in silence for a moment, staring at you like you'd just said the most absolutely ridiculous thing. And honestly, he felt like you had. You looked so naive and innocent standing there behind your counter full of those goddamn plants you appeared to love so much.

“You realize who I am, right?” 

The question had slipped out of Jax without much forethought, but he was curious now. Were you somehow that oblivious as to who your shop was across the street from? Was that why you were being so friendly to him?

“Yeah,” you answered with a nod, your eyes focusing behind Jax at the clubhouse through the window for a second before returning to him. “I've seen a lot of you with those…vests? Over there across the street.”

Jax couldn’t stop the chuckle that rumbled out of him. Vests. That was cute. Jesus, you really weren't part of his world at all, were you? You probably had no damn idea about the pistol in his “vest.”

“Kuttes, darlin’. They're called kuttes,” he told you as he drew his cup towards his mouth while he spoke. “They're a bit different and more important than just some vest.”

Jax took a sip of the hot coffee, entirely planning to continue his explanation about how wrong you were about the kuttes, but he was taken off guard by the drink. He hadn't expected it to taste as good as it did. He'd drank coffee before–a shitload of it most days because Jax was no stranger to sleepless nights even before Abel came into the picture–but this didn't taste like the acidic, burnt trash that he'd grown used to masking with sugar.

The sound of your delighted laugh drew his gaze back up to your face. A bright, amused smile was shining back at him. The sight momentarily had Jax forgetting about everything–the coffee, the kuttes, his anger at Tara, the clubhouse party he should be getting back to. All he could do was stare at you, taking in the sight of your smile and the way it felt like it had somehow warmed him more than that hot coffee ever could.

“Is it good?” you asked, gesturing your head towards the cup in his hand. “The coffee?”

Blinking a couple of times, Jax looked back down at the paper cup warming his hand, attempting to return to his senses. “Yeah,” he answered. Roughly clearing his throat, he snapped out of whatever it was that your smile had just done to him. “How the hell do you get your coffee to taste so damn good?”

A pleased smile spread its way across your face when Jax looked back at you. He liked the way a glimmer of something–pride, maybe–reflected back at him in your eyes.

“All about the roast and the extraction, Jax,” you replied. “Fresh, good quality beans that have just been ground make a world of difference. But I'm glad you like it. I've always said a great cup of coffee can help make a bad day better.”

Jax chuckled again, shaking off that weird sensation from a moment ago and drawing the cup up to his lips for another drink of the hot liquid. Goddamn, is this why people paid more instead of just making it their damn selves? Did it actually taste that much better from a coffee shop? 

“Maybe for some people,” Jax mused as he lowered the cup, his eyes fixed on you behind the counter. “But I don't think a cup of coffee is gonna do a damn thing to fix my problems, darlin’.”

Unfazed by his attitude, you simply shrugged a shoulder in response. “You never know, maybe you just haven't had the right cup of coffee yet.”

A smirk tugged at the corner of Jax's mouth. You were adorable. Naive, but adorable.

“I don't think coffee is the solution to anything other than how damn tired I am,” he disagreed.

Loud shouting from across the street caught both of your attention from the shop, the noise interrupting the conversation. Jax noticed the way your eyes darted to the window almost instantly before he sighed and looked over his shoulder behind him. A handful of the guys were outside drunk and having a smoke in the clubhouse lot, a few of the hangarounds clinging to them in their short shorts and crop tops. The sight of them out there was sobering. He knew he should get back to the clubhouse, especially now with how he was beginning to feel a little guilty that he'd interrupted you trying to close your shop.

Turning around in his chair, Jax entirely expected to see some sort of judgmental look on your face at the Sons and the croweaters across the street. It was how everyone outside of the club looked at them. But there was only a hint of genuine curiosity before your gaze shifted back to him in front of you. His brows furrowed faintly together at that, but he quickly pushed the growing questions away. It didn't matter. 

“I should get back over there,” Jax told you. “Make sure those shitheads don't cause too much trouble. And I should let you finish closing up.”

He rose from the chair at the counter, his lips straightening along his face as he got to his feet with his coffee in hand. For some reason, he found he didn't really want to go back over to the clubhouse, though. Whatever frustration he'd been feeling before he had walked over here tonight had somehow just vanished within the short time he'd spent sitting here talking to you. Something no amount of drinking, fucking, or riding his bike had even managed.

“You're right, it's well past close for me now,” you admitted, glancing at the clock on the wall behind yourself.

Another pang of guilt flooded Jax at your words. It was completely his fault that you were here so late now because he had stupidly walked in here for…he didn't even know what. Except that smile returned to your face again almost immediately, as if you weren't even upset that he had interrupted your night. 

“I'm curious about something, sweetheart,” Jax found himself saying, his eyes narrowing at you as he spoke. “Would you have kicked me out at some point tonight, or are you too nice for that, too?”

Another small, casual shrug came in response to the question. “Eventually, yes,” you answered. “I do need to eventually go home and sleep before coming back here tomorrow morning.” You paused, that look on your face like you were seeing straight through him briefly returning before you continued. “But you looked like you needed…something. Figured a coffee wouldn't hurt, at least.”

Jax stood there staring at you, just taking in what you had said and that warm, friendly smile. It didn't make sense–you didn't make sense. And he wasn't sure how he felt about the way you seemed to actually see him. It was unsettling.

“You're an odd one, sunshine,” he murmured. 

Almost instantly, a delighted laugh met Jax’s ears as he took another sip of his coffee. As he swallowed the drink down, his own lips couldn't keep from drawing themselves upwards at the sound. 

“Sunshine?” you asked, both of your brows raising back at him.

Bottom lip rolling between his teeth, Jax bit back the grin threatening to spread across his face as he nodded slowly. “Yeah. Sunshine,” he repeated. “Suits you. You're so goddamn friendly and nice.”

“Well that's a new one for me,” you told him.

There was something different about the smile on your face now, but Jax couldn't quite place what it was. He'd never had a woman smile at him like that before. Not even Tara.

The thought of Tara was like a kick to the chest, a jolt of pain shooting through Jax. His expression abruptly fell, aware that all the usual thoughts he'd had about her after she had left him a second time were going to come back and hit him hard the second he walked out of your shop. 

“Right. I should let you close,” he replied tersely. 

Giving you a nod in goodbye, Jax's mouth felt dry as he turned around towards the exit. A confusing mix of thoughts were swirling in his mind now.

“Goodnight, Jax,” you called out behind him.

The sweet, soft tone gave him pause as he rested one hand on the door handle. His blonde brows drew together, jaw clenching tight as that familiar rage and darkness inside of him felt like it was clawing its way up his chest, threatening to spill out of him in the form of some rude comment that would knock that friendly smile off your face. He didn't deserve you treating him like this. He was a terrible person. He knew he could prove it to you with just a few simple words, but before he could open his mouth, you spoke again.

“Feel free to stop in again sometime,” you told him. “You're welcome here anytime just like anyone else, Sons’ President or not.” A soft noise almost like a little laugh came next before you added on, “Preferably when I'm open, though.”

His body went rigid at that pleasant, melodic little laugh of yours. Slowly, Jax turned to look over his shoulder at you still standing behind the counter. You were indeed over there smiling, but the urge to be an asshole just to show you what kind of man he really was–that he shouldn't be treated like everyone else–disappeared almost immediately at the sight of it. How the hell did you keep doing that? Keep disarming him so easily with just a goddamn smile?

“I'll keep that in mind,” he muttered.

Without giving you a chance to say more, confused as to the weird effect you seemed to have on him, he pushed the door open and stepped back out into the summer evening. The noise from the clubhouse across the street carried its way to Jax’s ears as he began to make his way back over to where the Sons were smoking in the parking lot. He took another drink of his coffee as he went, his thoughts briefly straying to you and that entire strange encounter he'd just had.

There was just something about you that was so damn unfamiliar to Jax. You were all light and warmth, like the embodiment of sunshine itself. Nothing like anyone he'd ever met before in his life and it intrigued him as much as it bothered him. For weeks he had been watching you through your shop window wondering what it would be like to have you smile at him like he'd often seen you smile at all of your other customers, and now he knew. It felt like the summer sun finally rising to start the day after a long, dark night. And Jax found himself oddly craving more of your warmth, suddenly not giving a shit if he got burned in the process.

[theloveinc]

jason todd x reader - really just wanted to say he's the type to start feeding you stuff when you're taking too long to finish. it turned into this. 1.5k+ ish.

(warnings: eating dessert (being spoon fed), pet names, gn!reader, lots of teasing, + sex mentioned! edited but will double check in a bit!)

It’s not that Jason Todd is jealous. It’s not.

He’s been jealous before (plenty, he has to admit). He’ll be jealous again (could be as soon as next week, if not as early as tomorrow, if Dick so much as texts you to ask for Jason’s location). He knows this as well as he knows anything—as well as he knows that he’ll keep kissing you before you drift off to sleep every single night he’s lucky enough to go to bed with you. That Roy will keep being, or doing…whatever it is that makes him so specifically Roy. That B will keep disappointing him, even despite the slow and half-ineffective effort he makes by managing to locate whatever burner number Jason is currently using and leaving unnecessary updates on whatever mission Jason has most recently declined being part of.

It’s something else that itches at him. Something that burns with that same fire, creases his brow low over his eyes, and pulls his mouth into a pout you’ll tease him for later. It’s impatience. It’s the fact that it’s forty-five minutes past three PM (pee em), the latest you said you’d be home by, which means you’re a whole hour and fifteen behind schedule… still sat at the same outdoor café table you ordered lunch at with your best friend…four hours ago.

(Jason hadn’t meant to come. Hadn’t actually been invited. But the thought of French toast, egg scrambles with peppers, and looking at you in your cute date clothes was too much for him not to at least ask.

It's not a real excuse, he knows that. But what can he say, really, when he normally works the graveyard shift at Vigilante Incorporated, full time. Which he’s sure is what you were also thinking when you said yes.)

He likes your best friend. Not because he’s inclined to in any specific way (they’re nice in the way most people are nice, pleasant, if not a little boring and unworthy by his refined standards), but because he likes what you like, and especially things that make you happy.

But Jason also likes being home (on floor in front of the couch, shoulders between your legs while you absentmindedly pick at his hair and he cleans his gun, the both of you pretending not to be invested in whatever adult cartoon Roy most recently recommended. In fact, when you’d promised you’d be home by three, it was so that you could have dinner made by six, a shower together (and maybe just a tiny bit of sex) by eight, so he could head out for his scheduled patrol by nine.

(And be home by five am, so he could kiss you at least one more time before you had to leave for work.)

He could go on.

Not to mention, Jason burns; turns red as rust and Manhattan clam chowder when left in the sun too long (a phenomenon that remains unnamed yet oddly frequent among Gotham natives), which is simply just to say, in this little suburb an hour outside the city (when you aren’t going 90 in the carpool lane on a motorcycle), it’s all finally catching up to him. He can feel the pink on his cheeks.

In front of him, your dessert sweats. Fresh mascarpone cream seeping from between the now leaning, three-tier stack of biscuits, layered with the start of summer’s blackberries and drizzled with syrup. Still, you chatter away, the afternoon sun glinting off the spoon near your plate, as if to call attention to the fact that you haven’t even noticed.

“Eat with me!” it calls, and then as if to mock Jason’s poor sense of humor, “this whole thing is mildly irritating and definitely a waste of your time!”

He can’t take it anymore (you’d responded to the text he’d sent from the men’s room an hour ago, promising you’d pack it up as soon as you finished the food, but he knows now was silly of him to assume you’d be able to get anything in your mouth when you were that wrapped up in talking) and his body moves on its own: he picks up the spoon, leans across the table, and cuts through the top layer of your cakes without any care for decorum…or chivalry. The cream oozes, some of the syrup dripping down the side, and still, you don’t react.

“Honey,” he says, flat and low and grumpy, the only warning you get before he’s holding the bite up, inches from your lips. “Don’t let it melt.”

You blink. Your conversation stutters, falters, then dies completely as your eyes find his, and then the spoon.

“Oh,” you say, a little surprised, a little soft. Then, you smile, and Jason curses himself for ever being annoyed in the first place. “Thanks, baby.”

You take the bite graciously, tugging the spoon from his hands gently to finish off the bite. You wipe the corners of your lips, then lean in to give him the briefest of pecks, one that leaves his mouth sticky and warm with melting sugar. It’s almost enough to distract him from the fact he’s trying to lure you home… but you’re pulling away before he even has the time to fully close his eyes and enjoy it (as much as he’s eager to) and the spoon is set down in it’s original spot.

“Sorry,” you giggle to your friend, though your embarrassment is only half genuine, much to his relief.

He has to resist the urge to groan. And to make a sour face. And to express his frustration by scooping up a wad of whip cream and swiping it across your cheek (which is what he’d do if you were in private, not that he even needs the excuse to lick sweetness right off your face).

He gives it two minutes before he’s pressing another bite your way. Again, there’s no warning, no teasing, no words before there’s a heaping spoon of blackberries and cream mere centimeters from your mouth and his deep, blue eyes are narrowed in that particular, Jason Todd way, telling you: either you eat this, or… you eat this.

He thinks, at the very least, you’re finally picking up on the hint, as when you accept the bite, you roll your eyes and give him a playful glare. Jason doesn’t let you escape with the spoon however, this time pulling it from your mouth to let it rest between his forefingers as a clear reminder: you are going to finish this dessert, say goodbye, and go home… even if he has to be by his hand that it happens.

If you were a much more cruel partner than the one that you are, you’d offer back something biting, tease Jason, make a show of savoring the treat, and maybe even share a taste by exchanging tongue with him (as you sometimes do when you’re alone and eating something sweet)… instead, however, you offer him your hand under the table, fingers brushing the topside of his knuckles in a quiet, deliberate, and (most importantly) sweet way he will never admit makes him tender immediately.

Interlinked, your thumb starts to smooth over the scars that wrap around his skin, soothing any raw scabs in a wordless apology and a promise all at once. You don’t need to say anything, even though you still can’t, not really, not unless you want risk offending your friend. He knows you’ll apologize to him later, the way you always save the more intimate and vulnerable parts of your relationship, the parts you’re both still learning how to navigate, for when you’re alone together.

Jason exhales, something caught between relief and satisfied resignation. He’s happy to wait now that he knows he won’t really have to, so long as you let him keep this up.

You finish dessert slowly but obediently, taking the bites when he offers them, unabashedly disregarding the awkwardness that begins to fester without even needing to end your conversation. Though polite enough not to comment (as you’ve probably already mentioned to them Jason’s tendencies as a partner on the days he’s not desperate enough to tag along), your friend seems to pick up on the shift too, wrapping up the conversation with a glance at their phone and money for their portion and a tip passed your way. They excuse themselves with a hug and a cheerful goodbye that Jason barely manages to acknowledge in kind (though he does, again, for your sake).

Once they’re gone, the sudden silence is filled by the scraping of the fork against the soggy crumbs of your plate. Jason feeds you the spoon of syrup and mush one last time, and you can help but to giggle, a hand over your mouth as you chew, finally acknowledging the impatience that led to this whole scheme.

“Somewhere you trying to go, handsome?”

He scoffs lightly, trying but failing to seem unbothered when he begins roughly stacking your plates, “we have plans, might I remind you?”

“Oh?” you peer at him, failing to hide the sarcasm in your voice, “I had no idea. Really.”

“You said we’d be home,” he emphasizes with his dark eyebrows raised, “by three. Guess what? It’s four.”

(Jason is more of a homebody than he likes to admit, or at least, a stickler for getting his own way, which right now, includes taking both of your bodies home.)

You smile at him for real this time—genuinely, warmly, in a way that reaches something sore and soft behind his ribs.

“Yeah,” you peer at him, “But snuggling doesn’t exactly prompt rushing, does it?”

He gives you his flattest look, unamused, and even you have to admit, justified.

“My poor baby,” you laugh, standing and brushing crumbs from your clothes before reaching to gently brush Jason’s bangs out of his eyes. “I’m teasing. Let’s go snuggle.”

He ignores the sappy jab (really, the truth) and stands, too. He throws down a fat wad on cash on the check and reaches for your bag before you can, slinging it over his shoulder. You pull on the strap (see: attempt to make him relinquish the needless favor), but he’s already stomping back to his bike before you can even start another silly spat.

It’s not that Jason is jealous. It’s not.

He just wants you home—even if it means he has to feed you cake to get you there.

[arminsumi]

I want to kiss you / キスしたい

G. Satoru

NOTE: i recently started learning to write in japanese for not much reason other than to occupy my mind with something new. this little daydream came to me and i can't stop thinking about it, i think falling in love despite a language barrier is one of the purest and sweetest ways to fall in love.

WARNINGS — it might be fem reader idk, kissing 👍, ur married w him at the end, not proofread lol i'm snuggled up in bed ok

Satoru cant speak english and you cant speak japanese; Suguru is the translator friend. You met him online years ago, who knows how. But you hit it off, and four years of friendship rolled by.

Satoru heard all about Y/n and saw you many times when Suguru facetimed or called you. You and him had many cute, playful interactions, ranging from making hearthands at each other to flipping each other off and laughing about it. Sometimes Satoru would be sat off-camera, overloading Suguru with things to translate, because he had a lot to say to you. One time, Suguru left for a few minutes to get a pizza delivery, and then Satoru got very quiet and the two of you blinked at your screens.

"Hi."

"Hi."

And then you two for some reason started laughing with your whole chests, Suguru walked in with a confused smirk. He joked, "Sooo... what did you and Satoru talk about while I was gone?" He asked, gentle accent coming through in soft waves. "The mysteries of the universe." You replied. Satoru was already diving into the pizza box, but he still listened to you speak; he wondered what you had said, maybe you used some fancy words to say that you liked him? He'd be lying if he said he didn't memorize variations of "i like you" after that. He was paranoid that he could miss you saying that you liked him.

You managed a slow, meticulously-pronounced nice to meet you in Japanese when you finally visited Tokyo. It was at the airport. You and Suguru had shared many hugs — good grief, you'd seen height comparisons many times but none painted a real idea of just how big these boys were. But Satoru? He was loudmouthed on a screen and surprisingly shy in person. Eventually he hugged you and didn't let go. He even got so comfy as to hang and cling to your body like you saw him doing with Suguru in countless photos and videos.

Though you could barely pronounce the little Japanese that you picked up, Satoru felt giddy to hear your pretty voice in his language. He listened to you like you were reciting love poetry to him, fists under his chin and eyes starry. But you were just saying basic phrases, boring things — nothing that articulated your thoughts properly.

He was far too embarrassed to try and speak any English when he first met you, even though after developing a crush on you he did start learning some English on the side. He knew quite a bit, but listening was so impossibly difficult it frustrated him like nothing else. He was also self-conscious of his English accent, though Suguru tried to assure him that he sounded very cute and almost oddly British.

So often instead of attempting to speak tiny phrases to you, Satoru threw a lot of hand motions and signals your way which got the two of you and Suguru laughing — poor Sugie, he was always translating even the smallest things you said even if you muttered them under your breath, because Satoru was eager to know every little thought and expression you had, even if you were simply commenting on the weather.

Once you commented that it was so hot, you were visiting during a heatwave-filled summer. Satoru raised his brows at Suguru expectantly, and you heard a familiar translation;

暑い。

It's hot.

There was such a frustrating language barrier between the two of you, it became more evident when you had finally flown over the sea to meet them.

Yet you and satoru fell in love silently and beautifully, your love flowing like a river in the most unexpected directions. You felt his affection emanating from his irises. You and him joked around, and talked — though you had no idea what the other meant most of the time. Sometimes the two of you gave up and you talked in English, he responded with Japanese, and it went on like that very comedically until Suguru came back to bridge the gap.

Lots of time was spent putting your heads together over your phone, reading translations of what you wanted to say to each other.

One day, when Suguru left the two of you alone in his apartment kitchen so that he could hop to the convenience store, Satoru typed something into the translator and let you read it. Your face warmed up.

キスしたい。

I want to kiss you.

He looks at you expectantly.

You type back to him.

Then kiss me.

それからキスして。

He blushed and hesistated, the two of you making electric eye contact for a while before he boyishly pecked your lips to test if you liked his kiss, but oh that's all the two of you needed to realize just how much you liked each other. You melted into each other like your bodies were made for nothing else but to embrace and be one. He shook a little, tentatively gliding his lips over yours. His hands nervously cupped your cheeks. With the way he handled you so carefully, you'd think you were made of porcelain.

Your reciprocation meant everything to him. His confidence flourished. The soft smacking, wet sounds got louder when he kissed you more passionately. Those gentle hands found their way to the back of your neck, and he softly pressed you closer to him as if he was scared you would pull away. What if you changed your mind mid-kiss? He was overthinking and you wouldn't have even guessed it, because you thought he was in the same blissed out dream state as you were. So high on kissing that the world fell away.

The two of you started smiling embarrassedly, grinning so hard that you couldn't continue kissing. Then the two of you just giggled against each other's faces — a subconscious realization swept him; laughter and kissing are their own languages.

Yes as years passed and you visited time and time again, your Japanese improved and his English improved. When you moved to Japan, eventually you adopted a messy mix of Japanese and English with Satoru. He liked showing off how perfectly he could pronounce things, and you liked showing off that you could write very neat kana.

Years and years and years passed and when you and him were married in your own little apartment, starting a life together, a very fluent Satoru reminisced about how the two of you fell in love despite barely speaking to each other.

"It was your eyes for me." You said.

"Oh really? It was your voice for me. I didn't know what you were saying, but it sounded nice." He said.

"Mmm I liked your voice, too." You said, snuggling your head on his shoulder. He basked in the attention, though it was common, it always felt special for him. The smallest hand touches and wrist kisses made his heart lurch.

"Remember when I always nagged Suguru to translate every little thing you said?"

"Yeah, you worked him to the bone." You chuckled.

"I just wanted to know what you were saying. I had such a crush on you, looking back now it was even ridiculous how much I liked you considering the barrier and all."

"Ooh, did you?"

"How is this surprising? We're married??"

"Oh yeah."

[just-call-me-by-yn]

TORNADO WARNINGS - spencer reid

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader Content warning: angst, first person pov (most of the fic), swearing, y/n used twice, micro mention of typical CM violence Word count: 2.4k Summary: years pass, but the love you have for Spencer doesn’t disappear. Even though he left you a long time ago and you haven't talked since… until now. a/n: my first truly angsty fic so please be gentle with me. I was playing with this concept for a while and finally got the courage to sit down and finish it recently. hope you like it!! 🤍

I’ve been thinking a lot lately, and I came to the conclusion that love is like a flower, it dies over time. But what if the hypothetical flower would be fake? What if it was made out of plastic or some other durable material? That would be true love. One that’s everlasting.

“When the last flower dies, I’ll stop loving you” he said with a shy smile passing me a fake flower bouquet. “I– JJ said it would be more romantic to give you fake flowers and say that phrase instead of giving you roses or some other fresh flowers, so I just-”

“They’re perfect, but just so you know, I will have to throw them away if they’ll die.” I replied, my tone was playful in hopes that it would calm his thoughts, which I simply knew were running at sonic speed.

The flowers made out of plastic lose color with time, the vibrance of the petals washes away and the pigment of the leaves turns into a gray-ish tone of green. But the reminder of what used to be great and strong, colored and saturated is still there.

My hand reached for the blend of fake flowers, a grimace appeared on my face. It’s been years since I’ve even talked to him. The thought came to my mind of how I shouldn’t feel this hurt after over half a decade from the break-up. I am well aware that I shouldn’t keep the flowers, not even when they bring me comfort on lonely nights, smiles on awful days, just to make me uncontrollably sob later. I know it isn’t healthy. They were the sign of empty promises. Lovely words from a liar's mouth. But I still couldn’t push myself to take them off the shelf. Throwing them away would also mean that my part of the promise would be broken as well, and I just needed that safety net to keep up the peaceful state of mind. They didn’t die yet. Sure, maybe a couple of leaves have broken off and the petals started to tear, but the fake plant was still mostly intact.

My heart didn’t feel like it was going to be mending any time soon. I wasn’t obsessing over Spencer, but when I had a rough day at work, I used to put earbuds in and play any old voicemail recordings he had left for me. The most beloved one was of him telling me how proud he was of me. It was recorded after I announced that I got promoted.

“It’s not going to work out” he muttered under his breath as he pinched the bridge of his nose. “I am not interested in seeing you anymore.”

My whole body froze. Did I hear him properly? Was this a nightmare or maybe a cruel joke?

“Excuse me?” the question came out of my mouth faster than I could process it.

“I am sorry, it’s not because of you, it’s me. I just can’t continue this relationship.” he looked everywhere but not at me, which felt like opening a wound that hasn't had any time to heal.

All I could do was choke out a weak, surprised laughter as I blinked away the tears.

“It’s so cliché. You can hear it in most romantic movies.” my voice sounded like it didn’t belong to me, oddly strange.

“Actually according to Merriam-Webster the phrase was originated by Zachary Spence in a newspaper as a sporting reference, though it morphed into a break-up line in 1991, but it was widely popularized in 1993 by– what?” he answered finally giving me his attention, confused as why I couldn’t stop looking at him, but I was taking every second to let his image sink into my memory.

“It’s just that- I’m going to miss your constant rambling, the oversharing” The corners of my mouth twitched as I tried my very best to smile, even if it hurt like hell.

And I do, still, after six years, going strong with a hollow chest. The moment I took off the ring of my finger felt like a punch in the gut, though a little piece of me knew that he wouldn’t leave me without a strong, fundamental reasoning.

Now, every time I read an article about god knows what I keep asking myself: does Spencer already know that? What I tell myself, is that he is a walking encyclopedia, of course he would know. But I shouldn't care, right?

My friends repeat “life goes on” like a mantra, and my parents say “it’ll get better”. But it’s not that simple.

Not when we were planning our future together and all of a sudden it gets thrown, like pawns off the checker of a chessboard. Game over. Start again. Good luck next time… with someone else.

Of course our relationship wasn’t perfect. Though constant worrying probably has reduced my life expectancy by a long run, I would gladly rather live less with him by my side than spend eternity without him.

Then a sudden knock at the door shredded all the thoughts that occupied my head, just to replace them with a question of who could it be? It was already getting dark out early and chilly rain was hitting the windows, quickly running down the glass panes, making a calming sound.

I took one… two… three careful steps out of the bedroom, another five to the front door. My fingers touched the cover of the peephole that I was instructed to set up by Reid when I was living in my former apartment. His story about a 'murderous peeping Tom' case (which was my name for it) got stuck in my mind, so this item was the last thing I took from my old place and the first thing I installed in the new home.

A quick stare through the viewer made me stumble backwards, turn around from the door just to cover my mouth with a shaky hand and place the other arm around my stomach. Suddenly I felt the heat run through my body, that couldn’t contrast more with the weather outside. I felt sick. I closed my eyes, took a deep breath and before I could regret the decision I was about to make I unlocked and opened the door.

And there he stood in all his glory though his face was drained of emotions, he had dark circles under the eyes and a shadow of stubble, quite honestly he just looked like he had seen better days. But it was still Spencer.

“How did you–”

“Garcia.” I nodded at his response. “May I come in?”

As a silent invitation I just moved away from the door frame letting him pass me in the threshold. I could feel my hands begin to tremble, my nostrils started flaring and then there was a bitter taste caused by his presence, that somehow felt like venom in my mouth. All I was thinking of at that moment was that I couldn't hold it in any longer, and that the best outlet I could think of was the door, which I slammed as hard as my strength would have let me. A loud thud filled the apartment making Spencer flinch and his hand to fly to his chest almost instantly.

“How fucking dare you, huh?” I blew up.

It was weird how quickly my emotions could change. I didn’t know that I could be this sour, until the time I heard him speak, telling me that his friend from BAU basically stalked me down, for him to walk right into my safe haven, and make all the ghosts of memories disappear and for him to stand there, flesh and blood.

“You have to hear me out. Please." He was very hurt, I could even hear it in his voice as he pleaded, but it didn’t make sense to me. At least not at first, not until he explained it to me later.

“Spencer, you broke up with me, and that was years ago. What? Did you come by to get a cookie for breaking my heart? Like goddamn it.” I was clenching and unclenching my hands, open hand to fist, again and again.

“Let me explain,” he pinched the bridge of his nose, as if the words he was about to speak were slowly causing him a headache “It wanted to protect you, and I am sincerely sorry for hurting you. You have to understand that it was all for your safety. It wasn't my intention to cause you pain.”

“What are you even talking about?” my anger was slowly washing away to let the confusion take its turn.

“I had too. There was this one unsub, when we started getting in his way he decided to target the people who were close to us . I got worried when he-” he paced around the room and he looked like he was struggling with what words to use to make it all make sense.

“When he what?” I demanded an answer.

“We found his letter addressed to us and you were on the list. It was a hit list. Breaking it off with you was the only idea I had besides trying to have someone watch over you when I couldn’t. If I told you, you would have been trying to find another way to make it work. I know you, y/n. You would try to fight and risk your life. I couldn’t let you be so reckless”

“And what took you so long to tell me about it? It’s been years” I grabbed my shirt right around the collar and crinkled it in my first. My heart was burning in an unknown sensation, that was something I couldn’t describe. I wouldn't be able to do it even now.

“He was on a run for all those years. Just leaving breadcrumbs. We finally got him a few weeks ago,” His eyes were looking everywhere but mine and it felt like agony, though it didn’t cut deeper than betrayal. “y/n you have to know I did it all because I care about you, and it hurt me as well.”

“You know, I never… never truly found anyone, I couldn’t move on and it’s all because of you. It’s because you wrecked me Spencer. Ruin me for everyone else. Because a piece of me still loves you. A piece of me waited, but-” He reached with his hand to touch on my arm “don’t you dare touch me! You have no right to just walk back in and expect me to act, as if I wasn’t lonely and feeling unwanted for over half a decade”

I couldn’t hold back tears any longer, saying those words made me finally acknowledge the feelings I felt for so many years. And it made me ache, like someone ripped my soul out, stomped on it solely to put it back into my body again.

“We were engaged for God’s sake!” I tried to stay calm. I really did. However, yelling out my feelings made me think clearer. “And I tried to be a bigger person, tried to give you space. Forget about it, but it’s hard, when you told me it wouldn’t work out, out of the blue.”

“I tried to keep you alive y/n! And I am genuinely sorry. I am not begging you to forgive me because I know it feels like it was ages ago when we were together. I just want you to consider us and try to make it through this.”

“You sound like a crazy person right now,” I shook my head in disbelief, my mouth flew agape “lying to me, hiding the truth when omitting the fact that someone was planning to take my life, one way or another… I fear this is not something I can get over Spencer.”

From the perspective of time this wasn’t the greatest fear of mine. The thing I was frightened by the most, was that I would give in too easily. I knew I was able to forgive him, deep down I was sure I would bend if he asked me again.

“Okay,” he nodded, almost like he suddenly dissociated himself completely from being present. It felt like he mentally disappeared though his body still stood tall in front of me. He was no longer confident in what he believed in after my words, like all his will to fight for the relationship that we used to have, exited his being with a single lonely tear escaping his eye. He wiped it off immediately with the back of his hand. “I better get going then.”

"I think it would be better for the both of us, if you did." The emotions started to settle in my gut. I couldn't make him stay.

"Alright. goodnight." he said those words, probably hoping this wouldn't be our last goodbye. "Just think about it, okay?"

I nodded as I opened the door before him. When he left the tears started to flow down my cheeks again. This time they were like waterfalls of my broken heart and they were running wild. I just dropped to the floor. The loud sobs were echoing through my apartment as I curled myself into a fetal position.

"So…" you started not knowing what else to say "what do you think?"

The woman on the chair next to you carefully removed her glasses and set them on the table, along with a notepad.

"I think this story you just told me is a very unique and tragic love story," she said confidently "and a very unfortunate one at that"

You shifted uncomfortably on the couch you were sitting on for the past thirty minutes. You were nervously playing with your hands and chewing on your already puffy lips. Dumping the trauma was tiring you even more than your lack of sleep, due to the situation you were still digesting.

"Then, what should I do?" you ask looking up at the therapist, expecting a clear direction.

"I am not here to tell you what you should or shouldn't do…" she said in a calm voice and took a sip of whatever was in her white mug. "My only input here is supposed to be helping you understand your emotions, however, I can tell you to trust yourself and what you decide to do, the instincts usually don't lie"

my masterlist ♥

[radioactiverats]

Mentor Starscream x seeker!reader (12/?)

Sorry for the wait!! I’ve just been tired recently and words are still not wording :,) On my day off I was agonising over how to write a snapshot and ended up writing something entirely different, so I guess it worked out in the end…?? I will take things into my own grubby little hands and kick that plot muscle into gear… Thank you all for your kind comments in the meantime <3

Direct continuation of part (9/?). Bit more of fixing Starscream up after his failed attempt to assassinate Megatron.

———

“Megatron thinks I’m dead,” Starscream says bluntly. On seeing your wince, he quickly adds, “Which I’m not.”

He’s still weak; it’s the first time he’s come online in days, after all - days which you’d spent elbow deep in energon, coolant blurring your vision as you fought for his spark. You can’t be blamed for being worried. There’s light in his optics and colour in his plates, but the welds and dried energon don’t do much by way of helping you forget just how close he was to dying. The uncharacteristically limp way he’s slumped against a rock doesn’t really help your nerves, either.

Your fingers curl into fists as you fight to hide the tremor in your servos. He doesn’t need this right now, not when he needs to prioritise his recovery - both for his sake and yours. Attempting to calm yourself, you glance around the cave - enough energon to keep you going for a while without having to ration it. Thank Primus you’d decided to spend idle time digging it out. Even in its raw form, Cybertronians could consume it safely - they just didn’t prefer to. Processed energon went down way smoother, and didn’t have that strange, unfiltered taste that came from the impurities in its solid form. That was one thing you’d discovered about Starscream - he absolutely hated the taste.

To the extent that, just a joor ago, you’d started to grow sick of cajoling him into ingesting more to aid his sluggish systems - but it was only when panic began to colour your frustration that you decided enough was enough. You hadn’t just spent three sleepless cycles putting him back together only for him to reject the fuel he needed because it “tasted horrendous”. Which was how you found yourself on his lap in an effort to pin him down, batting his servos away - even injured, you hadn’t expected him to put up such a fight. The cave quickly filled with his screeching over your shouts that it would be good for him, as you tried to shove a chunk of energon into his intake.

It was probably down to the weakness of his recovering frame that he’d finally accepted the chunk of energon with a sound of disgust - even more disgusting due to its lukewarm temperature, by virtue of being clasped in your servo for too long (entirely his fault). That, and the pleading look in your optics. Ordinarily, he’d have long overpowered you. But even if he won over you in size and strength, you’d still have your ultimate weapon - what did the Terrans call it again? Thundercracker had excitedly informed you of the term after a solar cycle of bingeing his Terran movies - puppy dog optics? Whatever it was, it worked without fail on Starscream. You grimly foresee yourself using this tactic a lot in order to keep him properly fuelled.

In any case, the slight tremor of your frame doesn’t escape his notice. He wordlessly reaches a servo out to you, and you gratefully clasp it in your smaller ones. Big. Warm. Alive. Grounding you enough to turn your processor back to the matter at hand - Megatron’s presumption that Starscream was out of the picture.

Honestly, this felt to you like a once-in-a-lifetime chance. You’d rather take your chances as a neutral than go crawling back to the Decepticons, but you’re not sure if Starscream feels the same. Ambition was what gave him purpose. No matter his position, always thinking about how to improve, how to gain more. You watch his faceplate carefully, grip tightening inadvertently on his servo. Oddly enough, he doesn’t seem as angry as you’d thought he’d be.

“The only regrettable thing is that we’d lose access to quite a few valuable resources,” Starscream mutters, more to himself than to you. He can make things work, though. He’s no stranger to fighting for survival, scouting for resources, hiding away, going days without energon. You, though, require further consideration. You won’t offline, not if he has anything to say about it. It doesn’t please him to put you in such a position, though - it’s no life for a young seeker. Still, war is war. He reluctantly concedes that its better than putting you squarely back into Megatron’s line of fire. Starscream scowls. Strategy didn’t necessitate manoeuvring around his own feelings before; his own emotions would only hold him back.

…But with you in the picture, he can’t find it in himself to mind.

He glances at you then, only to see that you’re looking timidly at him with a question clear in your optics.

“We’re… not going back?” You ask, hesitantly. Had you read him wrongly?

His optics narrow for a second, caught off guard by your question.

“…Do you want to go back?”

“No,” You say quickly.

“I thought so,” He snorts, groaning as he tries to shift himself upright, a jut of rock digging uncomfortably into his wing. You rush to help him and even now, it’s a surprise that he lets you. “Why would you ask that, then?”

“I just thought you might have… unfinished business? Like… being leader of the Decepticons, or something…?”

He’d mentioned it often, during his rants in the privacy of your shared habsuite. “If I were leader,” he’d growl, “I would…”

As leader, he’d proceed to talk your audial off about what policy he’d implement instead of Megatron’s existing one. You’d listened halfheartedly, not as invested in power as he was - but his ideas did make sense.

He’s still staring at you, as if just realising that your interpretation of events had been wholly different from his.

“You…”

He groans again. You’re too young for politics. Was it a good thing that he’d managed to keep you out of it? The brutal struggle for power, all the underhanded scheming, living with a target on your back? Or should he have told you earlier about the power dynamics at play in the Decepticon high command?

Well, either way, it’s too late for that now. What gets him, though, is that you clearly hadn’t understood the rationale behind his obsessive grab for power.

“The more power I have,” Starscream says tiredly, “the safer you are. I hope you at least know the position I held within the Decepticon ranks?”

“I know that,” You mutter sullenly. So maybe you’d misread the situation, but it wasn’t like you knew nothing about him. Did he really think you cared so little? “You’re Second-in-Command.”

Starscream sniffs, momentarily placated. “Ex-second-in-command now, I suppose,” He mutters to himself, turning his optics to the ceiling. “Oh, how the mighty have fallen.”

You roll your optics at that. He does have a flair for the dramatic. Sure, you couldn’t hope to understand going from leader of the Cybertronian High Guard to Second-in-Command of a civil war faction to… whatever this was, now. In your eyes, though, he’d always been your commander, and he always would be. Perhaps that was why you didn’t feel as shaken as you thought you’d be. You suppose that not everybody could be lucky enough to have a constant to rely on.

“So,” Your esteemed commander presses on, “Who is the only bot who ranks above me?”

Surely not a trick question. “Megatron.”

“Exactly. And who just beat you to a pulp a few solar cycles ago?”

You stare sulkily at the cave floor. “…Megatron.”

“Who, then,” Starscream pushes on, despite the uncharacteristic patience in his voice, - “would I have to outrank to ensure that nobody beats you up?”

“Mega… Oh.”

Starscream tips his helm back, studying the energon crystals that twinkle on the roof of the cave as you have your mini existential crisis beside him.

“Megatron has gone too far,” He says tiredly. “Of course I want more power. So much more can be accomplished with power. But… I’m not sure I agree with what Megatron’s doing anymore.” Not after seeing what he did to you, is what goes unsaid. “Does leadership matter if it’s over a cause I no longer believe in?”

He blinks, shifts distractedly in place as if he suddenly has an idea. “Or maybe, I could start my own faction… then, I’d naturally be leader of it, and…”

And I can keep you safe, is the second thing that goes unsaid.

“…You need to rest,” You eventually say. Anything to intervene before he gets too lost in his processor. Your own processor spins with the weight of his confession, but you can’t have him burning out now because he’s thinking too hard in his current state.

You also don’t want to think about the implications of him nearly dying just for your sake.

He does seem quite woozy, anyway. “Recharge,” You murmur. “No one’s looking for us, right? And even if they are, I’ll be keeping watch.”

His optics slide to yours. Not entirely sharp as they normally would be, but he’s there. You know he’s heard you.

After a nanoklik, he nods, and you help him into a more comfortable position.

Unfortunately, it’s another few days before he surfaces again. His frame is wracked with fever as the nanites do their work. Primus must hate you, because you spend another few nights without recharge to ensure that he doesn’t overheat and fry his own circuits in the process. As if his condition wasn’t spark-wrenching enough, he has a habit of babbling incoherently at random times - “Who is Genvo?” You whisper to him, as you manually try to cool his frame down - but all that comes in response is a soft, agonized moan. Your designation comes up a lot, too. “I’m here,” You say desperately. “Sir, can you hear me?” Cupping his heated faceplate with shaky servos as you try to get through to him, but your voice falls on deaf audials.

You’re finally granted a glimpse of hope when on the third day, exhaustion compounds your panic and twists it into a holler of his designation right into his faceplate.

“Starscream!” You shout, trying to keep your voice steady. No such luck with your servos, though, which tremble as you cup his helm. “You can’t leave me, not like this, in the middle of some stupid cave on a planet ten thousand hics from Cybertron!”

Miraculously, his optics snap open. Glassy, but staring straight at you. His intake moves, but no sound comes out. You know you don’t have much time to make your appeal, but you know exactly what you want from him.

“Come back,” You plead. He stares at you for a klik more, those glassy optics boring into yours like he's staring straight into your spark. Even though his optics shutter straight after, you somehow feel like he had received your message - and sure enough, after another exhausting night of watching over him, he blinks online the following morning as if nothing had ever happened.

Even though you’d shared a habsuite for so long, you feel like you’ve never actually watched him wake up. He was usually long gone no matter how early you blinked online, so it’s a novel sight for your bleary optics as his systems come online - minuscule twitches of his faceplate, steam hissing from his vents.

His optics cycle open, focusing on the ceiling for a klik before darting over to you, as if he’d known where you were even before coming online.

"Cadet?" Starscream says, his vocalizer rough.

He makes an attempt to get up, but it’s sabotaged by the weight of your frame as you throw yourself at him, your relief surpassed only by exhaustion.

“Finally,” You mutter. You’re incredibly deprived of recharge, and tiredness has completely nerfed your inhibitions. Your small servos roam frantically over his frame, as if making sure he’s whole, making sure he’s really here. Starscream quietly allows you to confirm that he’s alright, optics tracking every shred of emotion that crosses your faceplate. His plates are a normal temperature, welds holding shut, wings responsive. Optics bright and alert, colour back to his plates. You allow yourself to ex-vent with relief. At last, satisfied by the fact that he’s actually, fully healed, a hysterical laugh escapes your vocaliser, a sharp sound layered in static as you finally collapse onto his chassis. “No one’s looking for us,” You inform him cheerfully, before he can say anything. “I’m going to recharge before my processor explodes and fragging kills us both.”

Before he can reprimand you for unseemly language, you’re out like a light.

Starscream blinks, taking in the sight of you sprawled half on top of him, optics shuttered and a klik away from drooling on his chassis.

Your plates are dulled with dried energon - his, most likely. At least, he hoped it was - better his than yours.

Starscream takes stock of his systems, finding that he was more or less functioning at optimum capacity.

He shakes his helm in disbelief, a raspy chuckle escaping his vocaliser.

You deserved this recharge. That, and so much more.

Perhaps he needn’t be so worried about your capacity for survival, after all. But for now, Starscream carefully gathers you close, watching tenderly as you ex-vent and nestle closer, making yourself comfortable in the crook of his arm, against his frame.

Nothing’s going to disturb your well-earned recharge if he has anything to say about it. Everything that comes after can wait - because for once, time is on your side.

Previous / Next

Rock form (rock candy lol) energon to me basically has that “tonic water” negative taste. Lol

[sarahscribbles]

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩𝐩𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐲 𝐚 𝐆𝐨𝐝

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐢𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐫𝐞 𝐠𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐞𝐧𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐋𝐨𝐤𝐢. 𝐇𝐞 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐰𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐞𝐱𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐦𝐮𝐜𝐡 𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐋𝐨𝐤𝐢 𝐱 𝐟!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: 𝐒𝐦𝐮𝐭, 𝐅𝐥𝐮𝐟𝐟

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 𝟏.𝟏𝐤

𝐋𝐨𝐤𝐢 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

You don’t expect the soft green silk that he wraps around your wrists to tie them gently to the headboard.

The confusion is clearly evident on your face because Loki smiles softly at you and kisses the tip of your nose. “Tonight is about you,” he says by way of explanation and sits back on the bed. 

A few experimental tugs tell you that he hasn’t tied them as tightly as usual. The silk is secure around your wrists, yes, but you’re certain you could wriggle free from the restraints if you really wanted to. You’re not sure what he means by tonight being all about you, but you still stay put atop the bed. 

Loki does very little without reason. 

Your god is still sitting next to you on the bed, gazing at you silently while the tips of his fingers stroke your bare thigh. There’s no menace or warning creeping through his touch - if anything, it feels gentle and almost painfully loving - which only makes your mind whirl with what he could possibly have in store for you. 

“Repeat what you said to me five minutes ago,” he says. His voice is firm, but somehow still soft enough that you can hear that familiar undercurrent of love flowing beneath. 

It’s a love that he’s yet to make you doubt. 

You swallow and quickly lick your lips, feeling your heart begin to race under Loki’s intense gaze. “I…you…sometimes I don’t think I’m good enough for you,” you babble out in one breath as a blistering heat blossoms beneath your cheeks. It sounds absurd.

Loki’s face is unreadable, it’s a blank mask that makes you fear that you’ve actually angered him, but slowly, a soft smile curls across his handsome face. “I fear you may have suffered a recent blow to the head, dove,” he teases and climbs easily onto the bed. 

On instinct, your thighs part for him and he settles into his place between them. His hands fall to either side of your shoulders, caging you in, though tonight, the gesture feels oddly protective. 

“Are you truly questioning how utterly magnificent I find you?” he asks, capturing your lips in a chaste kiss. “Because if so, then I can only apologise for being lax on my adoration.” 

“Loki, no, I only meant -,” he cuts you off with another kiss, this one so slow and deep that it makes your toes curl into the sheets. 

“Shhh, let me worship you, dove,” he murmurs quietly, bumping his nose against yours. You nod your head silently in permission, and he gives you a wink. “Good girl.” 

Warm lips then press to your jaw before dipping beneath to suck and nip at the sensitive skin of your neck. You suck in a breath and moan, already lost to the intoxicating feel of this man. 

“Do you know how proud I am to call you mine?” he says before sucking another bruise into your throat. “You are everything I ever dreamed of, my sweet girl. I want everyone - and I mean everyone - to see my marks on you and know that the most beautiful creature in the cosmos is mine.”

“Yours,” you breathe out because it’s an absolute truth. 

Loki’s head snaps up from where it’s been buried in your neck, and you see that the open love and adoration dancing in them is now mixing with possessiveness. “Good girl. Say that again for me, dove.” 

You laugh quietly at the lopsided grin he’s wearing, but easily grant him his request. “I’m yours.” 

“Again.”

“I’m yours.” 

“Beautiful thing,” he whispers and presses another lingering kiss to your waiting lips. 

His hand then curls perfectly around your side while he presses, slow, deliberate kisses along your collarbone and over your breasts. Soft strands of errant black curls tickle your skin, making you giggle and squirm beneath him, but he only looks up at you with an adoring smile. 

“That laugh is my favourite melody,” he says, pressing another kiss just below your ribcage. “And you are a work of art that I will never grow tired of admiring,” he continues, taking one erect nipple into his mouth.

His tongue swirls around it skillfully while a finger and thumb pinch its twin. That familiar lavender haze begins to steadily creep over you with every flick of his tongue and twist of his fingers, and it suddenly dawns on you why he’s tied your hands. 

“Tonight is all about you.”

You could weep with the love you have for this man. 

When his lips and fingers leave your breasts, you audibly whine, but Loki presses the tip of his index finger against your lips, an amused smirk curled across his face. 

“None of that, dove. Have I ever left you unsatisfied?” he questions with a quirked brow. 

“No.” 

His smirk widens. “Exactly.” 

He continues his descent along your body, covering your stomach in reverential kisses until next to all of you has been worshipped by his mouth. 

You, a mortal, being worshipped by a god. 

You feel two cool hands on the inside of your thighs, his thumbs tracing absentminded circles against your skin while he gazes at you. It’s a gaze that’s so full of love that you can’t help but smile at him, at this god you are so lucky to call yours. 

“I love you,” Loki says softly. “Say that back to me, dove.”

“You love me,” you echo, feeling your lip begin to tremble with how much truth is in those three words.

“Again.”

“You love me.”

“One more time.”

“You love me.”

“I do,” Loki assures you. “Don’t ever doubt that I love you more than anything on this earth, dove. You are the one thing that I did right.” 

Before you can answer, before you can do anything, his warm mouth is on your cunt. That skilled tongue laps and licks and worships until the beginnings of your orgasm begin to crest over you. 

With every flick and swirl, “you are the one thing that I did right” plays on loop in your head. This god adores you above all else, would burn down the world if you asked him to, and it’s the knowledge of a love that deep that sends you freefalling into bliss. It’s a pleasure that never seems to end, much like your cries of your lovers name. 

Panting, you come down off your high to see Loki rising from between your thighs. The silk restraints are gone with a flick of his wrist and you greedily tangle your hand in his hair to claim his lips with your own. 

“More. Please,” you beg, not caring how wanton you sound. 

Loki kisses you again, slow and lingering, and his eyes are glittering when his lips leave yours. “My sweet girl, that was only a warm up.”

[kamospeach]

plot: tattooartist!geto wants his favorite canvas to show off his work.

content warning: oral f!receiving, choking, piv sex, fingering, praising, doggy, breeding, a lot of dirty talk

peachy's yap: placed in Tokyo, but i didn't use conversions, and i specified that when speaking about money. i wrote this before i started writing on tumblr so it might be a lil bad.

"mmm, sugu..." you moaned, trying to stop the force of his thrust with your hand.

"be a good girl and take it all for me, okay?" he groaned out, intertwining your fingers behind your back and holding your hand in place.

now, you're probably wondering how you got here. hours before the incident you and your friends sat around on your bed. you all were scrolling through pinterest, trying to help your youngest friend build the courage to get a tattoo. you had friends of all different ages, races, and types since you transferred to a school in tokyo. your college in the us had an exchange program, which you were eager to sign up for. in all honesty, you were excited to meet the famous tiktok star satoru gojo.

living in tokyo was still new to you, and you had been going to school there for a year and a half. you made a lot of friends who were from the same program as you. you were the oldest and most obvious mom of the group. you treated the others like they were fragile babies, even though some of them were only a few months younger than you. one of your friends had just recently turned 19 and had never gotten a tattoo.

"come on, tattoos aren't that bad." you stressed to your friend. you were littered with tattoos, 25 in total, so of course, it seemed like nothing to you.

"that's not fair you have so many this will be my first one." he complained, and you laughed at his nervousness.

"what about your artist that did the majority of yours? can he do it?" another one of your friends asked, and you nodded at her statement.

"yeah, he's very gentle, so it won't be bad. i'll facetime him." you said and called suguru. 

the whole time you had been in tokyo, suguru had been doing your tattoos. out of 25, he did 20 of them, which made you get closer. sometimes, he did your tattoos when you just popped up or even after hours when he was fully booked. most times, you would call him and talk while he sketched a large tattoo for you. you guys had become friends and even got some tattoos for free, small ones, of course. it was also oddly convenient since you're a major fangirl for his best friend, satoru.

"you must need something." he blurted, answering on the third ring. you giggled at his assumption, looking at the way his phone was sitting.

"you're doing a tattoo?" you asked, slightly dodging his statement.

"yes, my only appointment for the day, you need to come by?" he asked, he never passed up a chance to take your money for something he loved doing. especially getting to see your pretty face sit in his chair and the look of satisfaction on that face when he finished the tattoo. 

"my friend wants a tattoo, and i recommended you because you're not too heavy-handed." you said, throwing in a smile, and he chuckled. he looked good to you, maybe better than usual. he had on a white shirt, which was different since he usually wore dark blue or black. you couldn't see his lower half, but you suspected he had jeans or sweats on. his long hair was in the usual bun at the top and hair down in the back.

"why do i feel like you're trying to sweet talk your way into my chair, kid." he joked, and you grumbled at the 'kid' nickname. 

"i'm doing it for my friend." you reminded him.

"oh yeah? so you're not doing it for the tattoo i sent you a couple of days ago." he raised a brow, and you laughed. he had sent you a very large sketch of a dragon that he said would look good on you. he offered to do it for 300 us dollars instead of 700 as long as you modeled it for him. you swore you would promote him on all platforms since you were pretty popular.

"if you want to do it today, we can." you offered, throwing the ball in his court.

"you guys can come i should be done in 30." he laughed, and you smiled, standing as all your friends began grabbing their belongings to leave. you walked away from them, noticing he had his airpods in his ear.

"i missed you, you know." you said lowly, not trying to draw attention to yourself. he glanced at you, and his eyes showed everything he couldn't say aloud.

"i missed you too; you'll hurry and get here, yeah?" he said, making your stomach churn from the naturally seductive tone he carried.

"we're 15 minutes away, but it might be some traffic." you informed him, and he nodded understanding.

𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐨𝐨 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐩

"woah, it's nice in here." your friend said loudly, making everyone else agree. 

"sugu!" you yelled, seeing him grabbing the cash from the client. when the client left, you went to suguru, immediately hugging him tightly. 

"you act as if we haven't seen each other in months." he joked still returning the hug as enthusiastically as you.

"2 weeks is a long time." you huff, sitting in a chair next to him. all your friends followed behind you, standing at the end of the chair. your friend getting the tattoo sat in the chair and explained the idea to geto. he began to sketch as you scrolled through your instagram messages, responding to brands that wanted to work with you. before you knew it, you heard the buzz of the needle, and he began to work. "oh! sugu, i need to tell you about what happened last week."

"i'm listening." he said, yet you could tell in his voice that he was interested. he was focused, and that was when he looked the best. the right side of his lip was tucked between his teeth, and his eyes were low. the veins in his arm protruded due to his grip on the needle, and the vein in his neck that never went away was more prominent. you rested your chin on your palm as you talked to him and watched him work on your friend's arm.

"he's really good." a friend of yours complimented him, and you nodded.

"thank you." he mumbled out, still focusing on his work. after another 30 minutes, he was finished with the tattoo. it was a song lyric, so it didn't take long to finish it and wrap it up. 

"you guys don't have to wait for me; this tattoo is pretty big." you assure your friends.

"you sure? will you need a ride home? i can always come back and get you."

"i'll take her home," suguru interjected, and you smiled, nodding at my friends.

"okay then, bye, see you later!" they all said in unison, waving at you as you walked back to suguru's chair. suguru followed behind your friends to turn off the open sign and lock the door. he closed the curtains and turned off the main lights to ensure no one would assume they were open. he walked to his station and turned on the extra lights he had to brighten up the specific area.

"nobody's here today?" you asked a little late, but your mind was distracted by the white shirt he had on.

"choso only had one client, so he went to pick up yuji. yuki never came, and the other guys left early, too." he explained.

"so, where did you want to put this one?" you smile, looking down at him as he sits in his usual chair.

"your back." he said printing out parts of the pre-sketched tattoo.

"cool! i've been wanting a back tattoo it's so empty." you admit, look at his back muscles flexing as he cleaned his station. "why a white shirt today?"

"is it a crime to wear white?"

"i mean, it is when all you usually wear is dark colors." you smile, and he nods.

"laundry day." he admitted, and you chuckled.

"maybe next time i can get you to wear pink." you smirk.

"maybe not." he said blandly. suguru was an avid pink hater, and light purple came a close second. you always teased him about pink and light purple and even bought him a pink and light purple gift for his birthday (along with tons of black and dark purple gifts). 

"i'm nervous now," you said, taking off your shirt and holding your chest. you had become comfortable with being in minimal clothing around him. he was even there when you got your nipples pierced, which would make sense since he owns the place (you invited him back because you were scared).

"what happened to that kiss you promised me?" he asked, ignoring your statement as your face got hot. 2 weeks ago, geto and you had kissed for the first time. he asked for another, and you told him you would the next time you saw each other.

"you would ask that now that i'm shirtless." you roll your eyes, and he just chuckles. you walk to where he stands, and his tall frame leans down. his hands gripped your waist, bringing you closer, and he whispered in your ear.

"nothing i've never seen before." he kissed your neck under your ear, causing a shiver to run up your spine. goosebumps formed on your body as if you were cold, but his body kept you warm. the way he spoke about seeing your chest made it almost feel inappropriate, yet it was because of the body piercing.

"so lewd." you sighed as he grabbed your face, bringing it close to his.

"yeah?" he questioned.

"y-" as you began to answer, he cut you off, connecting your lips. your mouth open from speaking, let him insert his tongue in your mouth. forgetting you didn't have on a shirt, your hands went to his hair, slowly massaging his scalp. 

he moaned in the kiss from the feeling of your fingers, loving how it felt. his hands traveled from around your waist to under your breast. your tongues fought for dominance, and he inevitably won as he explored your mouth. without thinking, his thumbs began to lightly caress your nipples, which were sensitive from the piercings you had gotten not even a month ago. he pulled away, looking down at your breast that rested perfectly in his large hands.

"i'm sorry," he apologized breathlessly. he quickly moved his hands, and you tried to catch your breath.

"it's okay." you said honestly, sitting in his seat. your chest pressed against the cold leather. most of your sessions with suguru weren't sensual or sexual. to be honest, this was different for the two of you; you just couldn't deny your attraction to suguru.

"you comfortable because once i get started, you need to stay very still." he said, and you scoffed.

"i know suguru." you said as you heard him laugh. for a second, he paused, letting the soft r&b play through the speaker. you internally chuckled at him playing the shared playlist that was full of music you told him to listen to. he began to place the stencils on your back and draw with the pen to fill in the empty places. as he did these little movements, your eyes closed as partynextdoor 'no chill' played. per usual, your thoughts drifted to suguru. 

now, it hit you like a bullet train going close to a million miles an hour. those times he called while sketching and said he'd want to see you with a back tattoo. or those times he said tattoos would look good around your neck. you always frowned at the idea as he smirked, saying 'went right over your head,' and you cluelessly shrugged. his hand around your neck? he wanted to see you with an arch in your back that emphasized those tattoos? sneaky.

suguru's signature smirk as you talked about tattoos. it wasn't the only thing you had in common, but it was where he could throw in dirty jokes, and you not even notice. before you knew it, your breathing was steadied, and you had lightly dozed off. suguru noticed your breathing and removed the needle.

"hey, love, you need to wake up just in case you twitch." he said, lightly rubbing your hip near where he was working.

"mhm." you mumbled, waking up and looking at the tv that was muted but played a program that you'd never seen. two hours had passed, and you were trying not to nod off. "sugu, i'm sleepy." you told him, and he nodded. 

"we can finish it tomorrow you probably have an hour and a half left." he said, and you shook your head. 

"i have work tomorrow i can't come." you pouted look back at suguru, who nodded.

"okay, if you twitch, i'll stop, and we just gotta plan a different day." he warned you, and you tried extra hard to stay awake. "what has you so tired anyways?"

"had three classes today from 7 to 2." you explained, and he nodded. 

"and how are you doing in those?"

"i'm doing good, i promise, just stressed. this is making it better." you tell him, knowing he acts like your father when it comes to your grades. he chuckles, and he works diligently on the tattoo. although you did nod off a few times, you were still enough for him to finish the tattoo all in one day. 

"maschocist?" he asked, joking, and you laughed.

"a little." you played along.

"you did good, love." he said, and the butterflies erupted in your stomach.

"t-thank you." you stuttered, immediately embarrassing yourself.

"thank you because i did your tattoo or because i praised you?" he questioned, reaching a hand out for you to stand as your legs felt weak from sitting for such a long time (and definitely not because his voice was hot). he kept his hand in yours, and you both walked to the mirror to see what he had done.

"maybe both." you shrugged, turning around and looking at your back in the mirror. "sugu..." you gasped, looking at the tattoo that was beyond the word beautiful. 

"do you like it?" he looked up at you, and your jaw dropped.

"like it? i love it." you say as he laughs.

"you always make me feel good about my work, " he says, wrapping his arms around your waist as you look up at him. you look at his face, caught in its beauty, as he waits for your response. his teeth play with the hoop of his side labret piercing on his plump lip.

"people must tell you all the time how good your work is." you say and he smirks at your assumption.

"sure they do, but your opinion matters the most." he says as you begin to realize he's leaning into you. you summon all the positive self-talk you can to reassure yourself that you can handle this without embarrassing yourself. like you figured his lips crashed onto yours and the two of you began to kiss vigorously. your teeth touched here and there and his tongue was exploring your mouth all in a matter of seconds.

"sugu..." you hum as his lips leave your mouth and attack your neck. he began to lightly bite and suck at your neck as you let out a light moan from the feeling of his lips.

"yes, y/n?" he says, and you sigh at the feeling of his lips. "show me how much you love my work, baby. show it off to me, hm?" he says, and your heart begins to flutter at his words. his voice was smooth like silk and his words were sensual.

"okay." you say lowly letting go of your chest and putting your hands in his hair. it was your favorite place to put your hands, to busy yourself, and hearing his groans was music to your ears.

"this is what you want right?" he asks leaning back to look you in your eyes.

"yes, i want you, suguru." without a second word, he picked you up and placed you on the chair you had previously sat on. your hands quickly went to his belt to open it.

"slow down, let me please you." he whispered in your ear as he removed your hands from his belt. his hands slowly grazed your sides his fingers leaving goosebumps in their wake. he slipped his hand slipped into your shorts pressing your covered clit. your breathing became ragged, and you whimpered in his ear. he slowly rubbed your clit barely putting any pressure just enough for you to know his fingers were there and moving.

"sugu please." you begged looking him in his eyes and he smirked at your begging state.

"please, what?" he asked as your head began to spin. you didn't even know what you wanted from him at this point. you just knew that you wanted him.

"i... i" you started still lost in your words.

"you what, baby? you want me to touch that needy pussy for real?" he hummed, and just from the words, your hip bucked at his hands needing to feel him.

"yes, please touch me, suguru." you asked, and he smiled at you, finally being able to ask for what you wanted. he finally put his hands inside your thin undergarments, pressing his cold fingers directly on your warm cunt. you're insanely wet and would be dripping if your juices weren't restrained. his middle finger grazed over your core seemingly testing to see how aroused you were for him.

"you're so wet for me." he breathes out as he slips his middle finger in you without warning. you moan at the simple girth of his thick and long digits. he skillfully maneuvers his fingers as your cunt squelches. the only sounds in the tattoo studio are you and suguru's heavy breathing combined with the sloshing sounds of your juices. 

"fuck..." you moan throwing your head back and enjoying the pleasure that suguru was giving. although you imagined having him all for yourself taking his big dick up your tight virgin-like cunt. you never imagined it would feel this good just from one of his fingers.

"you can take another finger for me, right?" he asked, not awaiting an answer he added another finger searching for that rough and spongy spot in you. once he found that spot, he continued to simulate, rub, and push on that spot as you clenched around his fingers. he removed his fingers once he could feel you even getting slightly close to finishing. 

"hah... hey," you huff as a pout immediately finds its way to your face. without saying a word he put his fingers to his lips. he licked your essence off his fingers while maintaining that almost unbearable eye contact with you. "suguru..." you tried to warn him but it mainly came out in a whisper.

"i want you to cum on my dick not my fingers." he whispers as he leans down to suck on your right breast. you moaned loudly at the feeling since your nipple was still sensitive from the piercing. he rolled your left nipple between his fingers and massaged your tits. he let off with a 'pop!' switching to the left before repeating the process of giving your other nipple attention. once he felt he was done, he began to unbutton your pants.  seeing that as a green light, you rush to remove his shirt. "you can't be in that big of a rush." he teases.

"i been waiting a long time for this." you admit to crashing your lips to his so he can feel your urgency. he eventually gave up trying the slow approach and hastily helped you strip down. after you had finally got him to just his boxers you lightly pulled at the band and he smiled. "i can do it?" you asked shyly and he laughed.

"go ahead." with his permission, you pulled down his boxers, watching as his girthy dick slaps his stomach. he was unbelievably hard; his tip was bright red and dripping precum. you couldn't take your eyes off of it as you shamelessly stare at his throbbing dick in fear. "you ready?"

"yes." you squeaked, and he smirked, grabbing your legs and lifting them to your chest. unexpectedly, he leaned down, sending one singular lick to your soaking wet lips. your legs begin to tremble at the feeling while suguru sends kitty licks, purposely ignoring your clit. "suguruuu..." you whine, and he stands up, smiling as his lips glisten from the juices. 

"i got you." he says, putting his hands up to your mouth. "spit." knowing you were getting closer to the goal, you immediately spit in his hand. he begins to jerk himself with your spit eyes rolling to the back of his head from the feeling. 

he had to snap himself out of it, remembering that this was real he wasn't dreaming of you. he could really fuck you and feel the way your warm cunt feels around him. you both being too intoxicated by each other's scent threw caution to the wind and didn't even think of using a condom. he lines his dick up with your entrance slapping his tip on your clit a few times before slowly pushing his way in.

"oh my..." you both gasp in unison at the feeling, his head is pressed against yours as he continues to push his way into you. he had you in a mating press as he tried not to put his full weight on you. he filled you up perfectly you felt full and stuffed just from half of him. he continued to push himself into you until he completely bottomed out. you both took a second he was allowing you to adjust while he tried to not nut already. your breathing was matched and you both looked each other in the eye.

in. out.

in. out.

in. out.

in. 

and suguru slammed into you as you took a deep breath, knocking all the wind out of you. he smirked as you gasped for air, and he continued with his bullied thrust. he pulled almost all the way out and slammed back in not even letting you catch your breath again.

"you hear that? you hear how wet you are for me." he whispered in your ear as you babbled out 'yes, yes, yes, yes' in response. your moans were loud and echoed around the tattoo shop. he leans up and begins to speed up his pace both hands on the back of your knees pressing them closer and closer to your chest as his thrust begins to get more and more ruthless. 

"s...s...s..." you tried to speak but you were so cock drunk you couldn't even get the words out. you were embarrassed and you couldn't even look at suguru who gripped your jaw roughly turning you to face him again. 

"spit it out." he says in a mocking tone, and you roll your eyes at him. "you want to roll your eyes?" he asked as you ignored him, gripping his forearm tightly at the pleasure. "answer me." he spat, and you whined shaking your head.

"no!" you moan out as he hit that perfect spot in you that had you almost ready to come undone. he rapidly pounded into you so hard that you felt the pressure in your chest. it almost felt as if his cockhead was poking at your heart begging you to love him and his dick. 

"can i leave marks?" he asked, remembering all those times you complained to him about men leaving hickeys on you without permission.  your eyes rolled into the back of your head as your moans became more and more guttural. 

"mhm," you hummed out, and he immediately began to work on your neck, leaving hickeys. once he felt he was done with what he called his 'masterpiece,' he looked at you. fucked out with his marks on your neck, collarbone, and chest. he laughed at you as he grabbed both of your legs and crossed your ankles. he placed your crossed legs over his right shoulder as he continued to watch your fucked out face. 

"maybe you should get my name on you." he says as he kisses your ankle making your eyes widen in shock. he couldn't mean what you thought he meant. "maybe a necklace?" he says as he gives you a forceful thrust that has you screaming out his name. "yeah, you like that?" he says as he wraps one of his hands around your neck squeezing lightly.

"yes, sugu i love it." you say not even realizing you admitted to loving the idea of having a necklace with his name on it.

"you love it? you didn't even... hah... hear my other ideas... fuck." he says as his statement is broken up with his moans and groans. he's in bliss loving the feeling of your warm gooey walls wrapped tightly around his cock as you clench and hold on to him with every thrust. "fuck baby, you feel so good. you're taking my dick so good. such a good girl for me." now it was suguru's turn to babble about how good you feel. his thrusts are getting sloppy as he feels you clench even tight.

"sugu 'm cumming." you whine out as he makes his thrust more pointed at the spot he knows drives you crazy.

"cum on your cock, make a mess on me." he coaxes you to your end as you moan your loudest moan of the night. "look at the mess you made." he instructs you as he keeps fucking you through you high. you looked down at the ring of cream that wrapped around his base. he slides out of you and quickly flips you over. "now that you're warmed up, you can show off that new tattoo, hm?"

"wait, i'm sensitive." you whine, and he doesn't say anything, just rubs his tip up against your entrance. he gave you maybe half a second if you were lucky and pushed into you again. "shit.." you mumble as he pushes himself fully in, your back naturally arched at the feeling. without letting you adjust to him, he begins to snap his hips into you quickly.

"you look so good taking me, sweetheart." he says as he watches the way your ass ripples each time it hits his pelvis. one hand was on your hip, and the other sent a hard slap to your ass cheek. his thrusts were relentless and your moans were getting louder and louder each time.

you grabbed his wrist as your face was squished into the chair. suguru didn't say much his jaw was slack hypnotized by your ass and the way you gripped him. he couldn't take his eyes off of you the way you looked under him was better than anything he could've ever imagined.

"mmm, sugu..." you moaned, trying to stop the force of his thrust with your hand. you were getting closer by the second and still sensitive from your previous orgasm. it was starting to become too much as tears spilled from your eyes due to the pleasure.

"be a good girl and take it all for me, okay?" he groaned out, intertwining your fingers behind your back and holding your hand in place. using your hand as leverage he gives you slower and longer strokes. slowly out and roughly back in, hitting that spot that made you mewl out. "are you close?" he asked as your body began to twitch from the feeling.

"so close, baby, so so close." you say and he grunts loving the way you sounded moaning out his name.

"where do you want it, sweetheart?" he asked and you being a fucked out mess yelped out without even thinking.

"inside me, please cum in me, fill me up, sugu." you begged, and how could he deny his beautiful muse what she desired? as both of your climaxes built up, he grabbed the front of your neck, choking you lightly as he pulled you up so that his chest was against your back. his free hand reached down to rub circles on your clit as he continued fucking you. "i'm cumming, shit."

"me too, cum with me." he whispers deeply in your ear as the both of you cum together. your body jerked as you violently came, and he continued to send sloppy thrusts, filling you up. he grabs your jaw, turning your face to kiss you sloppily. your tongues explored each other's mouths until you both decided to catch your breath.

"that was... amazing." you panted as he slowly slid out of you. the emptiness makes you whine and the sensitivity makes him shiver. 

"you were so good." he says, rubbing your cheek as you look away from him shyly. he walks away to get a wet paper towel. "this is as good as it's gonna get." you laugh as he cleans you both off and throws away the paper towel. he grabs your thong and helps you get dressed, sitting you back down on the chair. your legs were already getting sore, and you could only imagine how bad it would be tomorrow morning. 

after suguru got dressed, he double-checked the shop, making sure everything was good for him to leave. you just sat watching as he walked around, in shock that you actually got to fuck him. maybe the next time you should do it in the mirror, you thought to yourself as he handed you your purse. 

"ready to go?" he asked and you nodded walking alongside him. "now i'm going to have to take you on a date to ask the real question." he said raising his brow and looking at you.

"what question?" you asked, acting dumb, wanting to hear it now, but suguru wasn't falling for it. he opened the door, letting you out first as he hit a light switch.

"guess you'll have to find out during the date. how does friday sound?" he asked and without even thinking you obliged.

"friday is fine!" you say, concluding if you did have anything planned it would just have to be canceled.

"sounds good." he smirks, taking one final look around and turning off the final light switch. suguru locked the doors and thought to himself: i'll never quit. he wouldn't dare forget the memory of your fucked out face every time he'd do a tattoo on that same exact chair.

[meabh-mcinness]

Nesting (Balam Shichirou x femhuman!reader)

Main Masterlist

Summary: When your demon lover, Shichirou, begins acting oddly—more protective, more possessive, and increasingly distant—you are left bewildered and heartbroken. Once inseparable, his constant rejection of your affection stings deeply, leading to emotional confrontations and a growing sense of insecurity.

As tensions rise, a startling revelation changes everything. 

You blinked in surprise at the demon before you, confusion written obviously on your face from your scrunched together eyebrows and slightly opened mouth.

It was true that Shichirou had been acting odd lately, but this wasn’t why you had thought so. He was far more touchy than usual, which you hadn’t thought possible and were now being proven wrong. A hand almost always laid upon your shoulder or held around your waist — clawed fingers curled around your stomach — no matter that he had to practically bend in half to be able to do it. His body was guaranteed to be wrapped around you during down times and almost certainly snuggled around you when you went to bed. Large, feathered wings carefully covering your body and hiding you away from the world as you lay wrapped securely in his arms.

Your normally sweet teddy bear of a lover had also gained an attitude lately towards other demons lately. While he was still kind and touchy feely with the students and younger family members that occasionally visited their siblings, he had gotten territorial in regards to your co-workers and even downright hostile to other unknown demons that crossed your path when you went out shopping together with Iruma or to just explore other places in the Netherworld. Exploring that he recently has been denying you, stating that it was too dangerous which had culminated in a fair few fights at this point. You hadn’t appreciated being treated like a wayward child who couldn’t protect themselves and his sudden aggression and overprotection was getting on your nerves.

After an almost two full months of this treatment—you seriously praised your patience with him that was a testament to how much you loved the white gargoyle despite his current attitude. When the latest fight correlated to the words — “I can’t help how my biology reacts, I don’t understand how you can be so blasé about this!”  — your brain suddenly caught on to what, it thought, was happening, and it left you feeling horrible.

The attitude, the territorial-ness, and overprotection combined with his increased skinship were all startingly similar to how he had been acting in his pre-rut a few months ago. A wince hit your face as you berated yourself, after all how could you have forgotten so soon? While you were certain that the book you had read said gargoyle demons hit their ruts once every few years, it made a certain amount of sense that a newly mated one would perhaps have it more often, in an attempt to get their new mate pregnant and carry on their lineage sooner.

You softened suddenly in front of him, all fight leaving you as you grabbed one of his large hands with your smaller ones and lifted it so that it would cradle the side of your face. Nuzzling into the scaled flesh you apologized for not understanding sooner. After all being a slave to one’s biology was nothing new to you, no matter how often humans often tried to fight it, and you could only imagine how much it would distress you if humans still had heats and ruts like their ancestors did. Briefly your minded drifted to the omegaverse that had been such a popular trope in the fanfics you had liked to read. The absolute chaos of it that usually happened in those stories would probably have driven you insane.

You couldn’t imagine how it must be to actually experience it rather than have it regulated to fictional characters that didn’t exist. It must have been awful dealing with all of those rampaging hormones and to lose control of your own body like that. With this thought in mind, you made a decision. If he wouldn’t initiate this rut for fear of hurting you, then you would.

The day after this decision you woke bright and early, a happy thrumming going through your veins and a shiver down your spine at what you imagined the next few days were going to bring you.

You bit your lip as the thoughts started to overwhelm you before shaking your head it clear it. You had a job to do and only the day to do it. You quickly wrote out a very long grocery list, including lots of fruits and high protein jerkies that could be eaten quickly in the low periods so that energies could be kept high. You thought about it for a minute before throwing a couple of different candies on the list that left you salivating, before giving it to Shichirou with a smile and a kiss before shooing him off. Your efforts received a raised eyebrow in response, but you simply claimed a craving before wandering away again.

Now came the hardest part of your plan.

You stood just inside the door of your shared bedroom, surveying where everything stood with a critical eye. Tilting you eye this way and that you vaguely tried to remember the way Shichirou had set it up. You wanted something similar since it had been so secured and comfortable, but you weren’t certain how to achieve it.

Shichirou’s normally made nest was an amalgamation of twigs, vines, branches, and even strands of both your hair woven into a giant circle, much like a bird’s nest would be. When you started sleeping over in your courtship phase, he added a custom-made circular mattress to fit inside along with several blankets, quilts, pillows – anything soft and comfortable that he thought could add to your pleasure. 

When he was in a pre-rut, he truly decked it out with the softest furs, silk, and anything he could find that suggested both wealth and comfort to try and impress you. Since the end of the rut though you had insisted, they go in a closet, to preserve them for a later use, that had apparently come sooner than you thought it would. 

With a reaffirming nod you stalked into the room and started pulling the nest apart. The structure itself was fine, but the placement of everything inside of it rankled you for some odd reason and you were determined to make it right. Once the mattress had been striped of every blanket and pillow on it, divided into piles of each type of item, you proceeded to take out the items that were truly luxurious and oh so perfect in your mind, before also separating them into the already made piles. You were determined to somehow incorporate every single piece, to make the perfect nest for you two to use later on that night.

Even without an image in mind you started you reconstruction carefully, laying each piece just so, moving them repeatedly until you found their perfect place. When Shichirou later returned, groceries bought and put away, it was to the sight of you muttering to yourself about why the nest didn’t feel perfect yet. You couldn’t figure out what was missing and by this point it was like you possessed by the need of a perfect nest.

When he entered the room further, initially intending to help you, he hadn’t made it one step before a low guttural growl left your throat unconsciously, followed by your head turning and jaws snapping at his presence neared your unfinished product. His eyes widened at the territorial display you were posing, taking a slight step back before kneeling before you. Instinct causing his back to bow and wings spread wide before you to show he wasn’t a threat.

Tilting your head as you observed the display, your eyes immediately caught the glinting of the light off the feathers running across his beautiful black wings in contrast to pale skin and the stark whiteness of his hair. Entranced you walked forward, hand lightly brushing through the feathers, feeling the softness before your eyes dropped to the boa wrapped around the collar of his neck.

This. This is what you had been missing from the nest. Pieces of him. A constant reminder of him surrounding you from both above and below. You kneeled before him, the back of your hands brushing against his cheek before going further back to seemingly wrap around his neck as you kissed his mask. The metal stark cold against your warm lips as your fingers worked a bit to unclip the fur before lifting above his head. With a giggle at the confusion on his face, you quickly stole the fur from around his hips as well before telling him to stay there, running the fur pieces back to the nest, laying and stretching them out on the side that you typically slept on before rushing back breathlessly and making your big ask.

He stared down into your eyes with knowing amusement at your actions, seeming to understand what exactly was happening without being told. In a rush of words, you requested some of his feathers, specifically the soft downy ones that grew closer to his back and lacked any rachis or barbules that made up the stiffer ones that covered the majority of his wings.

He didn’t even hesitate to move his wings to the ground before the vines growing up the wall shot out and wrapped around the base of the feathers. Your senses and mind came back to you at the sight, “Wait, what are you—”

You never got finish your sentence as a majority of the down feathers were ripped out without even a flinch, despite the beads of blood that were starting to well up in their place. Your hand flew to your mouth at the sight, tears welling up as the vines carefully deposited the feathers into his hands so that he could offer them up to you. You ignored them however as you quickly whipped off your top and moved to lean over him to put pressure on the spot.

“I meant the loose ones, not to mutilate yourself,” you hissed at him. He shoulders moved slightly at your words, accompanied by another hiss from you, “Do not shrug at me about this! You could have done serious damage to yourself, Balam Shichirou!”

“How could I not give to my beloved mate one of the few things she desires? A few feathers that grow back quickly are an easier sacrifice to make you happy than you think.” His voice rumbled out, not the least bit apologetic about his actions as he gently pushed you away while standing up, slowly directing you back to the nest. “Now,” he said as he once more offered up the soft feathers, “where do you want these?”

The notion would have been sweet if you weren’t going to strangle him with his own vines.

The urge to strangle him rose higher later that night.

After dinner you had grabbed some of the jerky and fruits ranging from bloodberries — aptly named strawberry looking fruit that were as red as fresh blood — to a bowl of what looked like a deep truly purple version of grapes. Grabbing a bag of what looked like skittles but tasted more like chocolate truffles on your way back out, arranging them nicely along the edges of the frame of the nest.

When Shichirou joined you after a few moments, you proudly displayed your finished nest before him, even managing to lure him in for a snuggle that slowly developed into kisses and light touches before he drew away as your hand brushed along his hardening crotch, citing that he didn’t want to go further tonight. You pouted but eased up, if he wasn’t ready to start his rut then he wasn’t ready, and you could respect that.

Your irritation and turmoil however had soon reached its peak. Every attempt at discussing Shichirou's behaviour or attempting to lure him into bed to relieve him sexually seemed to end in frustration and more confusion on your end. The nights he consistently rejected your advances, he still held you close, his breath hot against your neck, you felt his tension in every muscle he had. His body, once a source of warmth and comfort with his arms and wings wrapped securely around you, was now constricting and suffocating.

You had never felt the urge to cry so much in his presence before.

One evening, after another round of Shichirou’s insistence that he couldn’t dare lay with you in such a way now due to his fear of hurting you, you finally decided you had enough. You moved from your nest and planted yourself firmly in front of him, hands on your hips, refusing to budge until you had answers. "Shichirou," you began, voice steady despite the chaos of emotions and thoughts whirling inside you, "we really need to talk."

His eyes, a mesmerizing mix of greys and whites that surrounded a pitch-black pupil, that once had enchanted you, met yours with a look of apprehension, body curling in on itself as if to make him smaller. Lately those words were often followed by a fight, something you both tried to avoid by nature and yet seemed unable to in these past weeks. "What is it?" he asked, his voice a low rumble, anxiety making itself known, mentally preparing himself for another verbal sparring match.

"What's going on with you? You've been acting so strange, and it's driving me crazy," you said, the words tumbling out in a rush. "I thought that you were entering another rut, but this is the fifth time you rejected me when usually you can’t wait to get your hands on me since the first one. I can't keep living like this! I feel like I’m walking on eggshells, not knowing what's happening." You took a shuttering breath, tears gathering in your eyes that you violently wiped away, Shichirou’s chirps of alarm as your displeasure made itself known in the form of angry crying. “Am I not good enough for you now? Do you know how terrible it makes me feel every time you deny the touch of my body where before you couldn’t seem to get enough? Do...do you not want me anymore?”

Speaking those words seemed to break the dam as you fell to your knees and broke into guttural sobs of at the thought, that despite his seemingly over-territorial actions he had made every day, there was every possibility that he was starting to no longer have a romantic interest in you. Where there once was a loving relationship may have turned into him simply protecting one of the few humans in the Netherworld, a source of one of his obsessions that he couldn’t give up even if he was no longer truly interested in you personally.

A startled squawk left him, and you felt him kneel before you, thighs hitting the ground with a heavy thunk. Could feel the air move as his hands reached around you, wrapping around your back and pulling you into his lap. One hand gently wrapped itself in your hair, sharp claws being careful not to cut any strands as they forced your head onto his chest, the other one rubbed and down your back.  

With your ear resting perfectly above his heart, a vibration started rumbling out of his chest that you could barely hear over your crying but could feel, as your whole body started to move in tune with it. His arms lifted you slightly as he readjusted himself so that he was sitting with criss-crossed legs before letting you down into his lap. A sudden whoosh sound was accompanied by a lack of light vaguely entered your senses, his wings had come out and encircled the both of you, hiding the view of your shuttering body from the rest of the world.

A clanking of metal hitting the ground was heard before his head lowered to bury his face in the hair on top of your head, a purring sound now accompanying the vibrations that came from his chest over the sounds of your sobbing.

Slowly, your crying stifled to sniffles and your breathing started to come under control to match his more relaxed one. As his nose continued nuzzling into your hair and large clawed hands went on with the calming ministrations, your hands came up to wipe the last of your tears away as your harsh breathing finally evened out again. 

You felt exhausted with a headache forming and small shivers wracking your body on occasion as a result on your sob fest. It embarrassed you had lost your cool like that, but you were just so tired while at the same time being consumed by so many emotions that it only exhausted you further. It had only been a matter of time before you broke.

With a soft sigh you asked the last dreaded question you had, “At this point it feels like you don’t even want me, don’t love me, anymore. Like you just see me as some human to protect from the Netherworld rather than your lover. Did I do something wrong?”

His eyes widened, jaw slacking at your words before quickly scrambling to reassure you. "No, it's not that, it won’t ever be that. I could never not want you," he admitted, his voice insistent yet softer now, “You’re my mate. My heart and soul, the better half as you humans say. I love you with every fibre of my being and would gladly die before ever having to live in a world without you in it.” His head shook, silver hair flashing about with the movement, his body shivering at the very thought of it. "No, it wasn’t because of anything even close you doing something wrong. If anything, it's because I love you so much with the gifts you have given me. Most recently especially, as you're carrying my youngling."

Your eyebrows narrowed in confusion, as your brain tried to process the information he was passing on. You knew that younglings were, as implied, young demons, the oldest of which were in what was the Netherworld’s version of their first couple years of elementary school. The youngest of that group were infants and…embryos.  The world seemed to tilt on its axis as his words sunk in. Pregnant? You?

The pieces of the puzzle fell into place—his protective behaviour, his constant need to touch you, his refusal to let you out of his sight. It all made sense now. "How... how do you know?" you asked, your hand unconsciously moving to your stomach, finally noticing the small bump protruding from it.

You hadn’t even truly noticed the swelling of your stomach, chalking up your pants slowly not fitting due to the almost sedentary lifestyle Shichirou had forced you into over the course of the past few months. You had never even noticed the swelling of your breasts accompanying it, or how you hadn’t experienced your monthly.  Far too focused on Shichirou’s newly found actions.

"Your pheromones," he replied with a small chuckle, pulling you even closer to him. "I can smell the change in your scent. What is normally a woodsy musk became sweetened like milk and pastries a couple of weeks after the rut. I didn’t realize what it meant until I met with a student’s mother who was carrying their own youngling, though much further along, that had the same cloying scent stuck to them. I didn’t tell you because I assumed you knew. Demonesses and their partners can often tell a few weeks in – by the end of the first month at the latest. I’ve known for a while now and it never occurred to me that humans might not have the same skill."

Tears welled up in your eyes again as you processed the revelation. Shichirou pulled you further into his arms, holding you tightly. "I'm sorry for making you worry," he murmured against your hair. "I just wanted to protect you and our youngling."

You hugged him back, feeling a mix of relief and excitement wash over you, a disbelieving laugh that bordered hysterical left you. "I wish you had told me sooner," you said, your voice muffled against his chest. "But I understand your actions now, and I’m sorry I wasn’t more understanding earlier."

He shook his again, musing up your hair in the process, “No, I should have thought of the fact that humans faced gestation periods differently than demon-kind and approached you about it. You act so much like a demon sometimes that it’s easy to forget you weren’t born one of us.”

“Let’s just agree we were both wrong and move on,” you mumbled.

You settled back in against his chest, snuggling against the warm flesh under his shirt and enjoying the feeling of his arms circled around you before a sudden thought crossed your brain.

“Oh, by the way,” you called to him as you booped the tip of his nose for attention. A light hum and wrinkling of the appendage was your answer. “While I understand your fears, you’re going to have to get over it. Preferably soon.”

He blinked, eyebrows narrowing in confusion at your words before widening again, “I understand. I was a little zealous in protecting you and I’ll try to do better in letting you do your own thing. Though I can’t guarantee I’ll be able to ignore all of my instincts especially with how dangerous—”

“While I appreciate that,” you interrupted him, already knowing he was going to go on a long spiel about the dangers of the Netherworld again, which at this point you could mouth along to word for word. “I actually wasn’t referring to it.” His head tilted like a bird, eyebrows stitching together once more as he tried to think of what you had actually meant.

“Sex, darling.” You declared casually as could be while he visibly startled at your words, a fierce flush spreading across his cheeks to the tip of his ears. “It is a well-known fact among my kind that human females often get extremely horny throughout and especially towards the beginning of their pregnancy.” You shifted in his lap so that you were kneeling in-between his legs, arms looping around his neck to bring his blushing face closer to your own.

“And I propose that we start right now. After all you have a lot of making up to do on that front.” With the plush of his lips pressing against your own, you couldn’t help but sigh up into his mouth at the familiar feeling of his hands lightly gripping your hips, before digging in slightly as you nipped what remained of his bottom lip.

Yes, there was a lot of making up to do indeed. And you were going to enjoy every minute of it.

[cheswirls]

short asl thing based on @where-does-the-heart-lie's modern au :) i started this over a year ago but the beginning is all dialogue and felt more like a script to me i suppose??? which deflated my desire to work on it. anyway i checked it over recently and it's completely fine lmfao, self-confidence restored here we go !

-

"Yo. Aren't you usually in the middle of your shift by now?"

"I've been banned from the hospital."

"Like, for life?"

"No. For the next, uh.. Twenty-two hours."

"That's oddly specific."

"It was twenty-four, but I fell asleep after leaving the building."

"That wouldn't have to do with why they kicked you out, at all?"

"Hmmm. I'm too sleep-deprived, apparently."

"Ah. And, um, you called me because...?"

"I pressed a random number in my call log after waking up. Lucky you, I guess."

"Yeah. Right. Lucky me. And your car keys are...?"

"Confiscated."

"Ah, right, of course."

A beat of silence. Two. Three, then "Look, if you're busy, then–"

"No, no.  You called me, so I'll be there. Give me twenty minutes."

"Alright. Thank–"

"Thank someone else. Also, if you fall asleep in my car, I'm taking it as express permission to drive you around wherever I want."

"Ugh, go die. I don't even know why I bothered."

"LUCKY YOU, I guess," sounds off way too loudly in his ear. "No take backs. See you in ten."

"I thought you said–" Sabo breaks off as the call ends, leaving him staring blankly at his phone's too-dim screen. He squints, turns the brightness all the way up, and still squints as the sunlight proves too strong for the display.

Ace shows up in more than ten but decidedly less than twenty minutes. Sabo doesn't waste much brain power on it, only climbing into the passenger seat and yawning into his palm while his other hand fixes the seatbelt into the buckle. Not a second too soon, too, as Ace roars the engine to life and peels away from the curb at record speed.

Ace fiddles with the radio. He turns the music up, then dial it back down to inaudible. They hit the expressway and he leans over the steering wheel, frowning with his eyes fixed on the road far ahead. Sabo yawns again and this appears to be the limit to his patience. 

"Hey, so, I had a thought after you hung up on me."

Sabo grimaces. "You mean you–"

"Today's Wednesday."

He doesn't elaborate. Sabo is too tired to process. "Yes," he follows, after a second. He glances at the sky out the front window. "What time is it?"

"Oh, uh." Ace fumbles with hand placement so he can lift his watch to his face. "Nine forty."

Sabo takes a couple beats to try and process this, moves his eyes away from the skyline, and sighs as he pulls his phone out. 2:47 is what the display reads, which sounds much more believable.

"How did the minute hand get off?" he mutters to himself, chancing a look at Ace's busted wristwatch. Ace raises a brow, taking his gaze off the road to scrutinize Sabo. "No, it doesn't matter," he mutters to himself once more, sliding his phone away back on his person and out of his hands.

"My point is," Ace continues, like he hasn't just been interrupted by a whole thing. "Your timeout will be done midday Thursday. Did they switch your days off?"

"No." Sabo sighs. "They technically gave me the next thirty-six hours. Technically closer to forty. Something like that. I go back in on Friday. Sometime.” He tries to smile and it turns out very lopsided, from that he can make out in the rearview mirror. “Can you tell I’m tired?”

“I don’t think ‘tired’ is an accurate description,” Ace quips. “When did you eat a proper meal last?”

“Uh, yesterday. Maybe.”

“Maybe??”

“A ‘proper meal’ means different things to the two of us,” Sabo huffs. “On my account it was yesterday. I’ve had food since then, of course.”

“Alright, so here’s the plan,” Ace announces before absolutely whipping it around a curve. Sabo is his passenger in the passenger seat and had fully prepared to be so when he got in the vehicle, but he’d been vastly underprepared for this sudden course of action, which is how he ends up halfway out of his seat with his cheek slammed into the cold window. Ace doesn’t quite notice his brother’s terminal velocity until the car is once again on the straight and narrow, and only then it’s because of the audible thunk Sabo’s face makes when it collides with the glass.

“Aw shit. You good bro?”

“Ow,” Sabo mutters. “If I have broken bones I’m suing your ass.”

“Well, if you’re good enough to make jokes, I think you’re better than you’re letting on.” Ace keeps the wheel steady with one knee while he takes both hands away to crack his fingers. When he glances over at Sabo again, he looks even more pathetic – like he’s becoming one with the glass. “Anyway, as I was saying.

“I’m taking your ass home. You’re going straight to sleep and while you crash, I’ll make you something decent to eat and stick it in the fridge for you to heat up later. I’ll even make you two servings to eat two different times, since you clearly can’t be trusted to take care of yourself correctly.”

“Ouch.”

“I want you to conk out for as long as your body allows. We can reset your sleep schedule tomorrow, alright? Put your phone on silent; do not answer any calls. In fact, you know what, just give it to me.

Sabo glances over to see Ace’s hand held out to him, palm up. Fingers wiggling expectantly. His lips pull up into a grimace. “I’m not doing that.”

“Fine.” Ace takes his hand back. “But you will comply with everything else.”

“Wow! It’s so funny, I didn’t realize you turned into my mother overnight! Really tapped into your mom potential, huh? Anything exciting happen in your life that would cause that? I guess I wouldn’t know, since I’ve been a zombie for the past two days.”

“There’s nothing wrong with acting like your older brother, you dipshit, especially if you keep putting yourself through the wringer like this. You go home. You sleep. You wake up and eat. You go back to sleep. Then we do laundry. Does that sound agreeable?”

“That’s negotiable, at the least,” Sabo mumbles. “I will accept good food as a form of bribery.”

“Oh, nice, because I’m flat broke at the moment.”

Sabo makes a mental note of that, and then they’re pulling into the driveway. Ace lets him exit the vehicle by himself and then promptly manhandles him all the way onto the couch where it will be easier to force his body to relax than in a real bed. Ace knows this, so he calls him weird before chucking a loose blanket at his head. Sabo is almost too tired to function at this point, so he lets Ace have the last laugh in favor of finally closing his eyes.

Coming to is a surreal experience, especially since the sun is still out. He must make a noise because Ace is suddenly within view. His limbs are tangled in the blanket and still so heavy that he doesn’t bother moving. “Thought you would be gone,” he half-groans, eyes slipping shut again for a moment.

“I did leave,” Ace confirms. “I had to go pilfer some stuff to make stew with. It’s almost done, so I’ll hang here until then.”

Pilfer. That could mean any number of things. Sabo chooses to believe in the option where Ace is an upstanding citizen, and then remembers Ace saying earlier that he had no money. He frowns and squirms on the cushions enough to where it looks like he’s checking his pockets. “Where’s my wallet, Ace?” he bluffs.

“Somewhere around here,” Ace pipes up. “Your stomach will thank you for your contributions to the Portgas Household’s pantry!”

“Ugh, I got robbed,” he complains. “This sucks. ‘m going back to sleep.” He rolls over so his back is to Ace.

“Yeah, you do you, bro. Stew will still be here later. I’ll see you when you’re back in the world of the living.”

—

Luffy comes in late that night and slams the front door shut as loud as humanly possible. When he appears in the main room, he doesn’t seem to be upset, so Ace writes it off as a Luffyism. Sabo hasn’t stirred at the noise, so it’s all good.

Realizing this, Luffy pads closer to Ace’s side and looks at Sabo’s unmoving body warily. “Why is Sabo passed out like a corpse? Is he sick?”

“No, he’s not sick, he just can’t take care of himself. Which is why we are going to let him sleep for as long as possible.”

Luffy just nods to this, but it’s the uncomprehending Luffy-nod that means he’s just going to end up doing whatever he wants to regardless. Ace sighs, then jerks his head towards the kitchen. “He ate a little earlier, but I want him to eat again when he wakes up. There’s stew in the fridge if you want it – just leave him a little. Got it, Monkey D. Luffy?”

Luffy throws him a salute and then runs off in his socks. “Yippee! Ace made stew!”

“Think of your brother, Luffy, and make good choices!” Ace calls after him. “He’s a pathetic man who needs food to feel better or he’ll end up sleeping through Laundry Day!”

—

Sabo does not sleep through laundry day, but he does sleep for sixteen whole hours, so it’s just around noon when he forces himself up off the couch and into a warm shower.

Ace is around, which is mildly unexpected. But he’s still half-asleep, so everything is at least a little unexpected. He glances up from playing video games with Luffy to see Sabo leaving the steam-filled bathroom with his hair hanging around his shoulders. “You look like a wet cat,” he calls.

“Sabo’s awake!” Luffy cheers. “Ace thought you died at one point.”

Ace elbows Luffy in the gut, making him hunch over. “I did not!”

“He totally checked to see if your heart was still beating!”

“I’m undead, actually,” Sabo says completely seriously.

“Does that mean you don’t need to eat anymore?” Luffy questions. “Because I ate all the stew last night.”

“I saw that coming and made extra.” Ace finger-guns in Sabo’s general direction. “That’s why I bought two sets of ingredients. With your money!”

“With my money,” Sabo echoes, because it’s such a wild statement to have to deal with this early in the day. Well, early for him. “Fuck you.”

“I mean, I can tell Luffy where I hid–”

“Thank you, Ace, for agreeing to share your quarters with both of your brothers so we can all do laundry today on your dime!” Sabo raises his pitch so his voice is mockingly squeaky when he says this. He starts moving down the hall before Ace can start to argue, letting his and Luffy’s voices bleed into the background.

When he comes back out, now dressed, it smells significantly better than before. “I reheated the stew,” Ace announces, gesturing for Sabo to take a seat at the kitchen counter. “Let’s all have lunch before we head out.”

“You have to drink this too,” Luffy tells Sabo, sliding a Gatorade across the counter so it sets in front of him when he finally does take a seat. “Ace’s orders.”

“Gotta get those nutrients back somehow.”

“Aren’t we so considerate, Sabo?”

“Do you even know what ‘considerate’ means?” Sabo asks, lips quirking up into a half-smile. At Luffy’s shrug, it turns into a real smile. “Well, thanks anyway. Both of you.”

“No sweat. And look!” Ace brandishes a five dollar bill for both to see. “I found this baby for us to use on coins! It’s all on me today–”

“Where’s my wallet, Ace?!”

[dixonswingz]

Poolside

Summary: Alexandria era. You and Rick Grimes share a home in Alexandria. You and Rick have been oddly close since the quarry, there has always been tension between you two. The house you two share happens to have a pool in the backyard. One day while Rick is out on a run, you decide to go skinny dipping since you are alone and nobody is watching. Until Rick comes home earlier than expected.

Warnings: smut, p in v, unprotected (don’t do this.), semi-public???, age gap (reader 18+), masturbation, fingering, biting

A/N: this is my first time writing smut.. and first time writing fanfic in general for the first time in years, so my apologies if this is the worst thing you have ever read. id appreciate some requests so i can continue my fanfic journey :)

About a few hours ago, Rick left to go on a run with a small group. It has been a few months since everyone finally started trusting Alexandria. You were glad everyone decided to stay. You were finally able to take showers again and sleep in an actual bed. Although there has been tension between you and Rick, that you both are well aware about, you guys stay in separate rooms. Although you wish you could fall asleep in his arms every night.

Today was your day off from doing work sunrise to sunset. You decided you needed some time to yourself to relax in peace and silence. What’s better than skinny dipping on a nice warm day? You grabbed a towel, sunglasses, a book, and prepared yourself a cold glass of lemonade.

You slid open the back door and stepped outside into the warm air. You sighed in relief, finally having time to yourself to do whatever you wanted. You laid out the towel on the edge of the pool, placing your book and lemonade on the towel. As you slid into the pool, you hissed slightly at the coldness of the water touching every crevice in your body. You weren’t really worried about anybody seeing you, as every house had fences for privacy. Even in such a small compound, everyone still had privacy which was amazing.

As you read your book, a spicy scene came upon the next pages. Recently, or really ever since you laid your eyes on Rick, he has been on your mind every single hour. Whenever you read scenes like these, you imagined it was the both of you rather than the characters in the book. Sometimes you even touched yourself while reading and having these dirty thoughts.

The more you read, the more aroused you got. You held the book with one hand holding open both of the pages. Turning around, your back rested against the wall of the pool, facing the back door. If anybody walked through right now, you wouldn’t be able to see them. You left the door open, so you’d only know if somebody was coming by the sound of footsteps.

You slid your free hand slowly down your abdomen, to your thighs, to in between your legs. Your breathing hitched as your fingers slid over your clit. You slowly started to rub circles, whimpering silently. Every time you touched yourself, all you could think about was Rick. All you needed was Rick. You’ve had your eyes on him for years.

Two fingers slid inside of your throbbing cunt, letting out a quiet moan as you threw your head back. Rick walked in through the front door, seeing the back door open. You were too focused in your arousal to hear anything around you. You started to thrust your fingers in and out faster, Rick walking to the back door as you were touching yourself. He heard your moaning and whining as he saw you with your head thrown back, sunglasses on.

Rick looked at your body, realizing you were completely naked. His bulge grew larger. As you were approaching your climax, making it obvious by your body jerking, Rick cleared his throat to make himself known. You stopped and turned around, covering your breasts when you saw Rick. “I-i thought… Sorry-“ He groaned and had a small grin on his face. “Don’t apologize.. I was enjoying the scene.” Your face felt hot as your cheeks turned a rosy pink.

You looked up, making eye contact as Rick walked closer to the edge of the pool. You wanted him so bad. “Rick..” He tilted his head as if he was asking, ‘what?’. “J-join me…?” You gulped nervously, scared he would think you’re disgusting. He smirked and quickly undressed down to his boxers. “Was hopin you’d ask me that” His voice was gravely as he slid into the cool water right next to you.

Both of you looked into each other’s eyes. He gently grabbed your hips, looking closely at your face looking for approval. He knew he didn’t need to ask when you moved closer to him, leaning into his touch. Your face felt like it was on fire. As you put your hands on the waistband of his boxers, you had a look of desperation in your eyes. It felt unfair that you were completely bare, and he still had these pathetic boxers on. “Take them off…” Rick smirked at your plea. “I ain’t gonna take them off without you askin’ nicely” You whined. You just wanted him to touch you and please you like you’ve been dreaming.

“Rick… please take them off..” You lowered your voice. He couldn’t resist how desperate you sounded. As he pulled down his boxers, your eyes immediately went to his cock once it was free. You bit your lip. You’ve had your fair share of experience, but his size was intimidating you. A knot started to form in your stomach the more you imagined him fucking you.

Rick lifted your face with his hand by your chin, making eye contact. “You want it, don’t ya?” You were too nervous to speak, you felt like you couldn’t form any sentence. You nodded. This was all Rick needed to move forward. He grabbed your hips as his lips pressed against yours. God, his lips were so soft just like you imagined.

Rick hummed against your lips, opening your mouth with his tongue. As your tongues wrestled, he slid a hand down to your clit. You broke the kiss by gasping. It has been years since you’ve been touched by anything but your own hands. Rick started rubbing your clit, teasing your hole at the same time. You whimpered, frustrated at the teasing. “R-rick please…” You pushed yourself into his hand. Rick grunted. “I’ve been waitin for this moment forever… ‘m gonna take my time with ya.” He kissed down your neck, biting lightly, leaving marks here and there. You moaned quietly, throwing your head back and closing your eyes.

He slid two fingers in you, immediately thrusting them in and out at a fast pace. “O-oh my god..” You moaned louder, Rick smacked his lips against yours to muffle your moans. “You gotta be quiet.. people can still hear ya outside” He smirked as he left kisses on your jawline.

Your body started jerking as your pussy clenched tightly around his fingers. Rick curled his fingers, causing you to open your mouth ready to let out a loud moan before Rick slapped his hand over your mouth. He thrusted his fingers in and out faster than you could imagine. You grabbed onto his shoulders, nails digging deep into his skin as you released yourself on his thick fingers.

He slid his fingers out as he turned you around, your breasts pressing against the cool wall of the pool. Rick grabbed your ass, you letting out a whine. “Tell me how bad ya want it..” He breathed into your ear, making you more aroused if that was possible at all. “S-so bad…” You whimpered. “Please… I’ve been wanting this for years… since the quarry..” This turned Rick on more. “I-I touch myself… imagining it’s you..” You confessed.

Rick kissed your neck, biting harshly. You moaned in pain and pleasure, that for sure would leave a mark. You felt Rick line up his hard, throbbing cock up against your entrance. You tensed up at this feeling. You were desperate. Rick slowly slid into you, you gripping onto the edge of the pool letting out a moan. “F-fuck!” Rick shushed you. His hands grabbed your hips, holding them so tightly but you didn’t care anymore.

“Mphm.. so fuckin tight for me..” He whispered in your ear as he picked up the pace. You threw your head back, resting it on his shoulder as he continued kissing your neck. He moved one hand from your hips to your breasts, pinching your hard nipple. You whimpered at all these sensations.

Rick left kisses down your shoulders, pinching your nipple harder. You yelped out, causing Rick to groan. “Would ya shut up darlin… Don’t need everybody knowin all the pleasure im givin ya” You whimpered in protest, you wanted to make so many noises. It just felt too good. “Harder… p-please Rick.. harder and faster..” You begged him, and he answered your begs. Rick started grunting and letting out deep moans.

You started to shake under him, getting so close to your orgasm. Rick knew. He plastered kisses all over your neck and back, as he pushed you into the edge of the pool. Your breasts pushed into the wall. “I’m gonna.. ugh.. cum!” You whined out.

He bit your ear, groaning. “Cum for me. Cum all over my cock like ya been wantin to for years..” That was all you needed to release all over him, your walls clenching against his cock. This made his hips stutter, as he was also about to release. “Cum in me.. Please rick..” You whimpered as he fucked you through your orgasm.

Rick gripped onto you roughly, groaning loudly as he released his warm seed inside of your cunt. You moaned, breathing heavily. Rick pressed his chest against his back, putting his hands overtop yours as he tried to catch his breath. “Holy fuck…” You whispered, resulting in Rick letting out a quiet chuckle.

He placed gentle kisses on your cheek over and over, as you started blushing. “Let’s get ya cleaned up sweetheart” Rick picked you up and got out the pool, wrapping the towel around both of you. You wrapped your arms and legs around him, nuzzling your face into his neck. Rick carried you upstairs to the bathroom, setting you on the counter. “Bath or shower?” He took the towel off of you, waiting for a response. “Bath please.. and join me too ?” He nodded and smiled. He turned on the bath. Not too hot, not too cold.

Once it was full, he picked you up again and sat down with you in the tub. You cuddled up against his chest as he held you close to him. This was all you’ve ever wanted. You looked up at Rick, making eye contact because he was already looking at you, admiring your beauty. “I love you, Rick” Your face turned red, feeling nervous on what his response would be. Rick smiled slightly, taken aback by your words. He wasn’t mad though. “I love you too darlin” He placed a kiss on your forehead and rubbed your back. Both of you knew this wouldn’t just to be a one time thing. You’ve finally gotten everything you wanted in this fucked up world.

this is my first time writing smut i hope its not the worst thing ever 😭 id appreciate feedback and some ideas for future fics!!! any requests for rick, daryl, and negan whether its smut, fluff, angst, etc. ill appreciate anything