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fleurhcss · 19 days

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Channie being a proper dom like really intimidating n stuff- when you first signed a contract w him you kind of just misjudged him as more of a sweet guy

That's sound so interesting so I'm taking this request very happily 🤍🤍 let's make this as a sort of fifty shades 🥰🎀

༉‧₊˚🕯️🖤❀༉‧₊˚. 𝐍𝐨𝐭 𝐒𝐨 𝐒𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭 - Chan x FEM Reader!

cw : something like 50 shades ??, contractual sex, co-workers/boss, possessive hard dom chan, naive reader, you though he was a sweet guy but he's an actual daddy

sw : hair pulling, choke kink, anal, blowjob, scratching, hard dom, little mention of blood, spanking, size kink, thigh humping, breast playng, biting, marks, fingering

wc : 6.6k

synopsis : You always did your work with dedication and diligence, your boss Bang Chan always complimented you for every job you completed on time. He was always very kind to you, always smiling and helpful when you needed help. You never expected that one night, when you were working overtime, he would approach you and ask you to come to his office to sign a new contract that would give you a promotion. Too bad, maybe not too bad, it was a completely different contract. This led to a new kind of passion that you never thought you'd get caught up in. And that Bang Chan was not as sweet as he showed you during the day.

a/n : hii, i'm back with another fic ! This was a request so I hope anon can enjoy this like all of u 🩷 it was so exciting to write and i hope u could like it - im obsessed with dom but apparently sweet Chan 🫣🫣 Enjoy 🫶🏻

[ HARD SMUT ]

It was another typical working day for you, you were sitting comfortably in your chair, going through the last of the papers your colleague had sent you for final checking. You had gotten a little hungry and had started to munch on some carrots, taking them out of your lunch box. You worked as a secretary for a big company, so you had to check all your colleagues' work and correct any mistakes before sending it to your boss: Bang Chan. A lot could be said about him as he was truly a man of gold. He was always kind and helpful to all his subordinates and to you, his secretary, he was no less, always greeting you with a smile and a pat on the back. You couldn't even deny how attractive he was, you were really lucky to have such a boss. Bang Chan was like the forbidden dream of every employee in the company, even the older ladies. He was a not so tall man, well built and very muscular. A distinct sense of style and elegance and a face like few others. Simply gorgeous, you thought.

Nothing had changed that day either, Chan had arrived smiling, his shirt slightly unbuttoned, no tie and his jacket in his hands. He had walked up to you and patted you on the back, smiling as if you were good friends. "Good work, Y/N, I want you in my office tonight to discuss a new contract." He said as he squeezed your shoulders and walked into his office. You were almost out of breath when he touched you. His hands were warm and you felt as if he wanted to hold you. But it was all in your head and he was your boss, certain things were not appropriate. You wondered what kind of contract he was talking about, since you had been promoted just two weeks ago - and with it a pay rise. Now you were very curious. It didn't take you long to ask your colleagues if Chan had been giving out raises lately. The man never ceases to surprise you.

You could see him making himself comfortable at his desk, taking off his jacket to give you a good view of his blue shirt, which clung well and perfectly to every single muscle. The man was truly amazing, a walking constant provocation, and of course you felt a little guilty having certain thoughts about him, which did nothing but show you sweetness and dedication to his work, as well as respect for you. You spent your morning working hours before your lunch break reviewing documents and glancing at your boss as he received corporate clients in his office with a beaming smile. Sometimes you wondered how he could smile so sweetly at everyone....

You could hear your colleague muttering things like "but what's he smiling about" or "why does he always have that happy expression on his face", well bless him? Chan had never shown his employees that he was tired or angry, except once when your company was fined for a cheating customer. You remember Chan's angry expression as he shouted in his office, the vein in his neck throbbing. And it was typical of your colleague to sulk about everything, wondering what he was doing there if he hated the job, when his boyfriend, Chan's childhood friend by the way, had suggested he go to work with him. But that was how Hyunjin was, you remembered when he described the pain in his bottom after sex with his friend Changbin in his dramatic way.

"You know what Chan is like, Hyune, he never gets tired of doing what he likes," you chuckled, catching a small, pouty smile from your friend. "Are you busy tonight?" he asked as he approached you with his chair. "Chan asked me to come to the office to review the contract, I have no idea what it's about," you threw your head back in frustration. "That sucks, I wanted to get something to eat, Changbin is busy with Jisung in a new group they are producing," you smiled at Hyunjin's adorable pout and tussled his hair, causing another pout.

Time seemed to fly from that morning, so much so that you found yourself sitting at the cafeteria table with your best friend Ryujin and Hyunjin, having lunch as usual and gossiping about your colleagues. Unfortunately, you weren't sure where the conversation was going when your best friend opened up about none other than Chan. "In my opinion he fucks hard, I mean look at him," she said, causing you to choke on a vegetable thread. You looked at her in a mixture of shock and bewilderment, then at the man himself, who had rolled up his shirt sleeves to show off his buff arms. "He gives me the impression of a vanilla with all those sweet smiles he gives out, although Bin says one of his exes left him because she couldn't sustain his sex life," at which point you also choked on water. But were these conversations to be sustained over lunch?

"Why exactly are we talking about how Chan fucks, in the cafeteria and with him just a few steps away from us?" you asked, quite confused by the situation. Your friends were out of their minds. "You haven't said a word, what do you think he's like?" Ryujin asked cheekily, leaving you speechless for the umpteenth time, and you let out a long sigh before answering. "In my opinion, he's sweet, I don't see him doing dirty things in bed or in general," Ryujin burst out laughing and you blushed at your own words. "But have you seen him? That minimum will destroy you!" she said, convinced of her words. You swallowed the last bites of your lunch before choking again. Sure, you had some thoughts, but certainly not in a place where the whole company you work for could hear you. You left each other laughing and went back to your desk, where you stayed until closing time, when your friends said goodbye to you.

You were reluctant to knock on your boss's office door, you could see through the glass walls that he was concentrating on printing out various papers and wondered why he had not asked you as his assistant, then he raised his head and smiled at you, signalling for you to enter his office, there anxiety pervaded you. You did as he asked and were greeted with a warm smile and a gallant invitation to sit down in front of his desk, which he leaned on. "So, I've called you in to discuss an exclusive contract as my personal assistant, let's say I've upgraded it a bit: I'd like you to move into my house from Tuesday to Friday and also to accompany me on my business trips, which will become more frequent as I've expanded our partnerships, and I'd like to discuss a much more... delicate side of the contract over dinner, perhaps over a nice glass of wine. I just wanted to let you know today. Come to dinner at my house on Saturday, you will have the correspondence, you can sign the contract extension and know the rest," he smiled.

But your brain had been given too much information to digest and process, you had stopped at the moving out in his house part... You didn't know how to react to the news, it had all been so unexpected that you still had to process it, and he understood that well from your expression, which was a mixture of confusion and disbelief. He laughed - and no, Chan, there was nothing to laugh about - "Well, I understand it's a lot of information, you don't have to answer me right away, we'll talk more about it on Saturday, like I said," he gave you another sweet smile and you nodded, trying to return it and getting up from your chair you saw that he had already started to turn everything off and had followed you to the exit. "Good night, Chan," you whispered with a small bow, which he returned with a smile and a pat on the head that made you blush. "Good night, Y/N."

Ryujin and Hyunjin would have liked that.

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖࣪

"He proposed to you WHAT?" Hyunjin almost shouted when you told him what Chan had told you in his office that evening. You were still in a state of disbelief; in short, living under the same roof as your boss was not exactly the best ... Especially when you felt guilty about fantasising about him after he had been so nice to you. "Yes, I'm still in shock and I have exactly three days to think about it, because he wants to have dinner with me at his house on Saturday," you whispered as if you were intimidated, and well, you definitely were a bit. So much so that the three days went by quickly and you were still standing in front of your boss's house. Hyunjin had been kind enough to be your stylist and you were sure that he had done his best to make you sexy, had even advised you to throw yourself into the experience, Chan certainly wasn't going to eat you up.

Or so you thought.

But Chan was a man of many surprises, and he was about to prove it. When he opened the door, you saw an Adonis, an ethereal Greek god smiling at you, opening the gates of Olympus. He was magnificent and uniquely beautiful, a man like few others, you thought. The tight white turtleneck accentuated every single muscle in that chest - from the pecs to the belly, you could count them one by one - and the dark denim trousers wrapped well-trained thighs, and you let your mind wander a little too much. You wore jeans that were a little tight from the thighs down to the ankles, a black lace top that allowed a glimpse of your bra - damn you, Hyunjin - and a simple jacket suit of the same colour. Your shoulders were crossed and you watched as Chan invited you in with a beaming smile. "Please, come in and give me your jacket, the dining room is that way, I'll be there in a few minutes."

It was certainly a nice apartment, modern, bright and very spacious for one person, so much so that you wondered if he might sometimes feel lonely in this environment. Then you remembered his suggestion and blushed. You made your way to the well-appointed dining room, where the food was well served and covered with special thermal lids to keep it from getting cold. "Here I am, Y/N, please have a seat, I went to get the paperwork for later. How about we start with a good glass of red wine? This is very good, a friend of mine sent it to me from Italy, imagine that," he chuckled and then moved your chair and made you sit down. He really was such a kind, decent, gentle man. So sweet. It suddenly occurred to you that it might be a good idea to share a roof with him. He sat across from you, sipping some wine and putting a piece of steak in his mouth. What lips, you thought. You looked like a maniac.

"I'm sure everything will be delicious, and besides, I love red wine," you reassured yourself, unaware that he knew the detail because he had asked Changbin to ask Hyunjin, who, being scatterbrained as he was, had not suspected anything. "Oh well, lucky shot. So, have you thought about my proposal these days, sweetheart?" for a moment you forgot how to speak in front of the nickname. "Um, yes, I'm very much inclined to accept your proposal," you told him as you drank some wine, you needed it, and a lot of it, otherwise you wouldn't have survived the evening. His eyes lit up and he smiled at you, he was really handsome, damn. "I'm very happy that you accepted, there's just one more... delicate additional clause that I'd like to talk to you about. You're not obliged to accept it, of course, and it won't affect the contract I mentioned before, it's a separate thing, let's say another contract", you were confused, what else could he want from you? With your glance you encouraged him to go on.

"That's it, I've been alone for a long time without a woman by my side and the physical needs are starting to kick in. My last serious relationship ended because she was, so to speak, unable to support me in bed. So I need a woman who I consider to be strong and stable as well as beautiful like you, and since we will be together most of the time, I thought we could take advantage of that. Of course I have inquired whether you have someone at your side or not, I would never allow myself to ask such things of a taken girl, much less are you obliged to accept. I also want to emphasise that I do not see you as an object to vent my sexual pleasures, I have great respect for you. Having said that, I look forward to hearing what you think."

Your face was indescribable at that moment, your fork hanging in the air, your mind urging you to accept such an absurd proposal. It was amazing, by the way, how he was such a sweet gentleman and so respectful to even ask you such a thing. It almost made you hate him. But the truth was that you were quite tempted, even though you shouldn't be. "Excuse me, I have to go to the toilet," he said, understanding your surprise and not being hurt by it, he took a sip and wiped his lips before showing you where to go. Where, by the way, it didn't take you long to make a group video call and tell your best friends what you had gotten yourself into.

"I'd love to accept, I mean have you seen him? He's definitely going to fuck like hell," said your best friend. "Accept, what have you got to lose? You're sexually frustrated and haven't had sex in ages, not to mention that your taste in men sucks. He's a gift from heaven right now," Hyunjin said, since when was he so wise? And he was right, after all, neither of them had anything to lose.

When you returned to where you were sitting, you drank the Goblet in one go: "I'm in, what do I need to sign?" you said. Chan's eyes lit up, a mixture of disbelief and satisfaction. "I've got all the contracts over there, calling me by my name, and you don't know how happy you've made me. Obviously we're not starting tonight, I'll help you get your things over here, and if either of us feels like it on Monday, maybe we can try something," he smiled broadly at you, and you really couldn't help but smile back.

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖࣪

When you arrived at work on Monday morning, your best friend gave you a sly look because you had texted him about the rest of the evening with your boss - now boss with benefits? - who, after dinner, had accompanied you to his office to sign the rest of the contract, not forgetting to caress your skin or wrap his arms around your waist. You had noticed that he was a man who sought physical contact and was very affectionate. Ever since he had promoted you to be his personal assistant, he had not missed an opportunity to pat and squeeze your back as a sign of encouragement.

He had offered you more wine and shown you around his apartment, which was very large indeed, he had a sort of library room, you were surprised to see how many books he had, and most of them he had read. He had taken you into his garden where he had a small vegetable garden and small flower beds and finally, after showing you what would be your room, he had taken you into another study where there were musical instruments and other tools whose names you did not know. He had just confessed to you his passion for music, which he practised on his days off, sometimes in the company of Changbin and his friend Jisung.

You were shocked that one man could have so many passions and still find time for everything. He looked like Clark Kent, but without the glasses and the weird superpowers.

By the time you had taken your seat, Hyunjin had given you another look, pointing out a beaming, smiling Chan in his office - which was not much different from the usual one, but he had a different aura than his usual working days. When he saw you, he gave you a smile and a wink that made you blush and even earned you an elbow from your friend to tease you, you had not yet settled into your new job, but already that morning some of Chan's employees had come to pick up your things, you would not be there for a whole week, so you did not have to bring everything exactly, but the essentials you would surely need, after all they had also brought suitcases and bags full of personal belongings, clothes and things like that.

He signalled you to follow him to his study, and as soon as you turned on your computer, you proceeded to him. The question, "Good morning, sweetheart, how are you?" was somewhat unexpected, although not because he could not ask you the question, but because you were expecting a different kind of question. However, we were discussing Chan, and he was still the sweetest guy you knew. This prompted you to consider whether there might be a side of him that he had yet to reveal in private. "Um well, you?" you rocked back on your heels. "I'm fine. So we're going home together tonight, my boys have finished bringing your things, you just need to get them set up in your room. I would like to request your assistance in my home office for a few additional hours. A significant contract must be negotiated with a German company. Additionally, I would like to spend some time with you." He whispered this last sentence, and, besides blushing, you experienced a physical sensation of goose bumps. His gaze was different, more penetrating, with a different light, and his voice had dropped an octave. You observed what you believed to be a change in his eyes, which appeared darker and more intense. This observation was accompanied by a sensation of trembling in your legs.

Your underwear was visibly moist; however, if he had observed your state, it was unclear how he would have react. He dismissed you by returning to your usual work room after you nodded off, and when Hyunjin saw you in such a state, he did nothing but tease you until lunch. That was when Ryujin joined in. Your expression was comically pathetic, and the two of them would not stop teasing you. At this sight, Chan , who was directly involved in the aforementioned incident, joined in. He approached you with a kind smile and patted your shoulder, which caused you to shiver. "Have a good lunch, Y/N, guys..." he said. It was evident that Hyunjin was attempting to restrain himself from laughing in Chan's face.

"Should I inform him that he caused your panties to become wet? It would undoubtedly make the entire situation more epic”, Ryujin jested, causing you to laugh slightly less due to the presence of Chan, who was behind you and had overheard every word. This resulted in Chan giggling. You were in a difficult position, both literally and figuratively. You were forced to thank your best friend... You observed Chan direct a gaze at you that you were unable to identify, yet you were certain that he licked his lips in anticipation of capturing them between his teeth. You were compelled to concede that you were entertaining the notion of engaging in the same act. Hyunjin's interjection served to disrupt your train of thought. You were, in fact, digging your own grave, having already initiated the process by falling into it. You were now merely attempting to cover yourself with dirt.

The day passed more rapidly than you had anticipated, and you found yourself in the evening having to bid farewell to your friends, who were still laughing at you. As you were tidying your belongings, two arms wrapped around your waist, and it was evident who it was. His warm breath brushed against your skin, and you were certain you would not be able to endure much longer. The man was the end of you. He commenced to bestow wet kisses upon your neck, and without intending to and realising it, a small moan escaped you. You were now definitively ruined. He chuckled against your skin and turned you towards him, smiling. It was incredible. "So, my dear, are you prepared to return home?" he whispered. It was as if, when the office emptied, he became another person. He was inches from your lips and they were too inviting and full to remain that way. Consequently, you set aside your shyness and initiated a kiss.

The kiss was markedly different from any previously experienced. It was passionate, as if the man had not kissed a woman in years. Chan was passionate and engaging in his every move, and it was as if melting in his arms was inevitable. He was just as physically attractive as his body suggested, and he was an impressive individual. His hands tightened on your waist, massaging your hips. You could feel his thumbs enter your skin as his full lips pulled yours into a kiss that seemed to last an eternity. In your stomach, you experienced a series of unusual sensations. His tongue penetrated your mouth, and gradually, his lips began to move along your jaw, down your neck, and to your shoulder, where he focused a little more. You were certain that he was going to drive you insane very soon.

He grasped your thighs and positioned you on your desk. The mere possibility that the janitor might have entered the room at any moment and discovered you aroused you considerably. "You have no idea what I would like to do to you right now, sweetheart," he whispered into the crook of your neck as his hands went up your thighs, squeezing them. Your lips emitted a series of gasps as your hands made space for themselves in his now disordered curls. You uttered a curse. This was undoubtedly the end of you. "Why don't you do it then?" you sneered, gaining some confidence. You observed him return that grin as he took tufted hair and tied it in a vice, pulling it backwards to reveal your callus, which was far too clean for his taste. In point of fact, I did not employ the use of molt to inflict marks and bites upon him. "I would suggest that it is time to return home, or do you wish to remain in these wet panties for an extended period? It has been several hours, has it not?" he laughed, recalling your conversation with your closest companions that afternoon at luncheon.

You blushed and placed your hand on his arm, indicating that you wished to compose yourself. He took you in his arms and you observed that he was also experiencing a similar problem, as evidenced by his obvious erection. He smiled at you and, after saying goodbye to the janitor who was about to enter the office, you proceeded together to Chan's house. The car ride was an ordeal, as his hand remained on your naked thigh and squeezed it. You had by now admitted to yourself, while lying down, that the only thing you wanted was for him to insert his fingers into your panties and then into you. What was the man doing to you?

Upon your arrival, he did not allow you the opportunity to remove your jacket; instead, he took care of it himself, with great eagerness. His lips followed yours as he whisked you to the door, taking your legs and tying them around his waist. You felt his erection pushing against your clothed pussy. You longed only for him to undress you. He swiftly removed his shirt, and you were captivated by the beauty and musculature of his physique. You felt as though you were experiencing a hallucination. Was there truly such a flawless man? Not to mention the extensive tattoo that extended down his right arm. You lingered for a considerable period of time, admiring it, before running your hands down his chest and arms, caressing his warm and velvety skin. You could perceive the degree of physical conditioning he had achieved merely through touching his arms. "Do you like it, my dear?" he inquired, his voice a mere whisper in your ear. It was a rhetorical question, of course, but one that could be answered in the affirmative by anyone.

"You have no idea how much," you replied frankly before initiating another kiss. You believed you had merely provided a sort of addiction to the latter. He giggled before leading you down the hallway to the kitchen table and setting you down on it. "Good because I'm really ridiculously hungry so allow me to satiate myself," he said, his tone indicating a change in subject. From that point on, you were no longer in earnest. Passion and lust had evidently overpowered you. You observed him disappear between your thighs, spreading you wide as his nose pressed against your still-clothed but completely soaked centre. He left it a kiss and then pulled the fabric with his teeth. You were convinced that you felt them sink into the flesh of your clitoris as well. By this point, you were no longer holding back, as there was no point in doing so. You were a moaning mess.

"You smell very pleasant; I imagine your taste is similarly agreeable." This was the most dirty image you had ever seen. He removed your underwear and began licking your labia minora, which caused you to close your eyes. Your left hand descended from your hair to your shoulder, where you dug your nails into her skin, certain that you had done so.

He emitted a moan, which surprised you, given that you had always considered him to be a sweet guy. However, given his reaction, you increased your grip and scratched deeper into his now reddened skin. Meanwhile, he was working his way between your walls with his tongue, sucking on portions of your skin before penetrating you with it and fucking you with his tongue himself. This caused you to lose your breath. It was evident that the state of your body would not withstand the prolonged stimulation. Your own sensitivity was already considerable, and the fact that you had not had a relationship for a considerable period of time, coupled with Chan's unexpected skill with every touch he gave you, was driving you to the brink of insanity.

Your prediction was correct as you freed yourself in no time on his skillful tongue, which totally cleaned you up, even licking your lips. The experience was so intense that you were overwhelmed. "It was exquisite, and I may never get enough," he said as he approached you, who were now panting and short of breath. However, you noticed that his problem remained unresolved. "Take off your pants," you intimated, pulling him by the belt. He was perplexed by this turn of events and clenched his fists on your thighs. "Are you attempting to issue commands, princess?" he inquired with a hint of amusement, then proceeded to remove his belt and tie your wrists behind your back. However, he was uncertain as to the purpose of this action.

"You are not able to touch me, as I am in control of the situation. Should you wish to cum again, you will do as I say. However, I will not have sex with you at this time. I wish to cause you suffering first" he sneered. This is contrary to the image of the sweet boy that he presented. He undressed you completely, admiring your body from a distance once you had nothing to cover yourself and then disappeared to get something. He returned with a bottle of wine in his hand and a full goblet from which he was drinking. "You know I love wine. I wonder what it tastes like if I pour it on you. What do you say? Shall we try it?" He bit his lip as he moved closer to you and kissed you with the same frenzy as before. The wine tasted like red wine, the same one he had offered you nights before. What remarkable coincidence was that ever? You felt a liquid, which was not particularly cold, run through your breasts and the rest of your body. The liquid had made its way up your stomach to your thighs, and Chan was gradually descending with his lips, as if he wanted to consume you.

His lips fixed themselves first on your collarbones, which had been previously treated with a little bit of wine. He proceeded to drink the liquid and begin to leave bites and kisses on your breasts. You were certain that he was consuming you and that you would find purple marks all along the way, particularly around your nipples. With one hand, he was holding one of your breasts and massaging it, while playing with the nipple that was stuck between his index and middle fingers. His mouth was on the other breast, licking, biting and sucking the nipple. It was clear that nothing could be more pleasurable than the experience at that moment. The head was thrown back in response to the intense pleasure. "What a delight you are, princess," he said, his remaining hand clutched at her throat. All she could produce were disjointed sounds devoid of meaningful words. He proceeded to descend with his tongue, licking the wine from your stomach to your thighs. He then proceeded to bite and leave hickeys all the way to your groin.

Upon raising his face, one observed a smug expression. Saliva was observed to be dripping from the sides of the lips, and the subject was perceived as a potential meal. In contrast, Chan had never known a woman like you, and your every move drove him crazy. Your scent and beauty had been the first thing he had noticed when he first became interested in you. The sensation of your vaginal walls constricting around his tongue was a profound experience, one that sent him to a state of rapture. He contemplated the sensations he would experience when he penetrated you with his penis. You observed him grin repeatedly, and you gasped when he was completely naked in front of you. Perhaps you understood why his former girlfriend had found sexual intercourse with him to be an unbearable experience. It was a complex array of sensations. He was of considerable girth and possessed a notable degree of vascularity. You observed him for a few moments, during which time he elicited a sarcastic chuckle.

"I can see you quite like what you see, sweetheart," he laughed, only to have you spread your legs and begin rubbing his length over your thigh, grazing your clitoris with the tip. This was a spot to which, by the way, he was the subject of the torture of his thumb moving quickly over it. He was fucking you until you were dumb. And not in the literary sense, unfortunately. "Chan...please..." you implored him, this being perhaps the third or fourth occasion on which you had reached orgasm that evening, with the intervals between the events being relatively brief.

"Be patient, my dear," he whispered in your ear. The speed with which he was rubbing his penis had increased significantly, and seeing him moaning like that, with those expressions contributed greatly to accelerating your orgasm, which occurred a few minutes before the one that Chan released on your thigh. With two fingers, he took some of the semen and brought it to your lips as he squeezed your neck, indicating that you should open your mouth. He engaged in oral stimulation of your tongue until his fingers were clean, then withdrew and proceeded to clean you. He then inquired as to your preferences for dinner. He proceeded to bite his lip and extend an invitation for you to take a bath with him.

The duration of the cohabitation would be long.

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖࣪

The last thing you ever imagined in your life was living under the same roof as your boss. Yet here you were, in the car with him, driving back to "your" home. It had been two weeks since you had signed that contract, Hyunjin and Ryujin were doing nothing but trying to extrapolate information and gossip to you about how Chan was fucking. But no, you didn't know either - you weren't always doing something, every day, there were days when you were really busy or days when Chan didn't go out except to go to work from his studio. But when he was in the right mood, he didn't hesitate to call you into his studio and drive you crazy with his touch. You experienced things you had never tried before, like wax play, and one night he even tied you up with a rope that was thicker than you thought. Not to mention the first time he had fucked you in the mouth. He had been so rough - not that you had minded - that you had trouble moving your jaw for the next two days. But Chan had been very kind to look after you.

Now he tightened his hand around your thigh, almost as if he were angry, and you wondered what was going on in the boy's head at that moment. When you got home, he gave you a look that you could not decipher and took you in his arms - at which you let out a cry of surprise - and took you to his room, where you had never been before.

"Get ready because you'll be up a lot tonight," he said as he tossed you into bed. From then on you understood that this was the moment after two weeks when he would not feel pity for you, and in the end you were not so sad. He laughed at the sight of your face, which was a little confused and shocked at his sudden disappearance, but you wondered why he looked so angry. "Did something happen?" you innocently asked the boy who was now towering over you. He laughed as if you had just said the funniest thing ever. "It really bothers me that the typist won't stop looking at you, trying miserably to get your attention. I have to do something to let others know you're mine," he whispered in your ear, making you shiver. You had no idea what he was talking about, but you were sure that seeing him so possessive of you had had an unexpected effect on you.

"Do it Chan," you said as you tugged at the collar of his shirt; you were going crazy for this man and seeing him like this only made you more vulnerable to his mercy.

You didn't even notice how he unzipped your clothes, how the room had suddenly become extremely hot, as if someone had lit a fire or a stove. Chan didn't need to move to show you what was hidden under his clothes, what a wonderful god he was under those now useless and discarded robes on the floor. You had seen him walk away and take something from the cupboard and were almost surprised to see handcuffs in his hands. You hated being touched when he was in charge, you had learnt many things about him in those weeks, one of which was that Chan loved to feel in charge, to be in control. And how he loved it. And you didn't mind seeing the smug look on his face when he knew he was having an effect on you. He grabbed your hands and brought them behind your back, stopping them with the metal object, his expression was something indescribable. He was so attractive, you could have come just by looking at him.

He positioned you with your head dangling from the foot of the bed and lowered himself to your level, stroking your red lips with his thumb as you gasped. All this was already having an effect. "Look how beautiful you look," he whispered as he moved his lips closer to yours, "so beneath me, at my will, ready to receive all I have to give you... you are a feast for the eyes. "If you only knew you..." she whispered through his lips, boosting his ego and pushing him even further to initiate a ravenous, almost violent kiss. He pulled his tongue out with his teeth and sucked on it. "Chan... please..." you said almost imperceptibly, which amused him greatly as he loved to see you like that.

He stood in front of you, his figure was imposing, statuesque. You could see his full length. He winked, made you open your lips with his thumb, played with your tongue. If only he had put a finger between your legs, you would have known immediately the effect he was having on you. "Be a good girl and take it all in your mouth, princess," he chuckled as he began to work his length down your entire throat, the fact that you were upside down on the bed making it even more exciting. But it wasn't like Chan to stand still while you gave him pleasure. And while he held your hair in a tight grip, he enjoyed using his other hand to caress your breast and play with your nipple. This drove you crazy as much as it drove him crazy that the moans he was making you make his cock quiver in your throat. This really drove him out of his mind.

His hand went all the way down your chest to your belly as he mercilessly fucked your throat. He squeezed your side and reached down to lick your navel with his tongue. His hand wanders to the naked centre of your intimacy: "Look how sensitive we are today. Two fingers begin to make small circles over your clitoral hood and this immediately makes you moan again along its length. He inserts one finger and then a second, fucking you with them first. You throw back your eyes as he reaches your sensitive spot and begins to curl his fingers. But he doesn't go for it, he doesn't want to come like that, he doesn't want you to come like that. "I'm going to fuck you mercilessly, princess. Don't scream too loudly, you don't want the neighbours to complain," he whispered in your ear after leaving your lips and towering over you.

He brought your knees up to his shoulders and paused to watch your hole shrink around the nothing. "It's going to be really wonderful to fuck you." And he entered you. "Ah!" you moaned, unable to stop yourself. You felt full. Good. Filled. "'Damn darling, you're so tight, even after my fingers... I'm going to start moving now, okay?" he groaned, then pulled out of you and suddenly thrust back in. You moan. "You like it, you want more baby," he chuckled then watched as you begged him pleadingly with gestures and disconnected words. And if he only knows how much you wanted it.

He begins to move without stopping, trapping you between his elbows as if to let you know that you are his alone. At first he pushes himself into you slowly, until you get used to it and start to want more, pushing your hips against his. He speeds up and you almost lose your breath, your moans now a poor diastro. You feel like you could come at any moment and he can tell by the way you tighten around him. "Come for me, Y/N," he says hoarsely into your ear, then takes you in his arms and kisses you roughly until your lips bleed. But he doesn't miss a drop and licks up to the end of your chin when, without warning, you come and he's inside you.

He slowly leans you back into the mattress and gets off on top of you. But you are not tired, you want more. "What is it, Princess?" he says, looking at you. You have noticed his gaze. "I want to do it again," you whisper breathlessly. He looks at you amused and chuckles, towering over you. "You really are insatiable," he says, turning you over and letting you rest on his lap, your hair quickly clenched in his fist and pulled towards him, making you moan immediately. "Now I'm going to fuck you from behind, baby," he whispers in your ear before he enters you. It was slow and almost excruciating but you loved the feeling of him rubbing inside you, maybe you loved the feeling of just having him inside you. "Inside you is like being in heaven," he whispers in a rough voice as he increases his thrusts, making them almost animalistic, everything moving with you, even the bed. You moan, loudly, and once again you clench around him. "Come for me, baby," and with just one word you scream his name and come on his hand, which had reached down to your clit to collect your fluids.

He makes you lie on your side and smiles, then caresses your cheek and leaves a bite on your shoulder before licking your fluids away.

"I could go on until dawn."

"Fuck me."

In the end he wasn't so sweet like you thought, not in bed.

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sidekick-hero · 9 days

Text

As Steve waited in an impersonal hotel room for his new client to arrive, things began to feel a little off.

In truth, the term "client" there was somewhat unconventional. Three guys had hired him to surprise their friend Eddie on his birthday.

Just moments ago, Steve had received a text message from the guys telling him that they were about to bring Eddie to this very room under the guise of getting his present. What Eddie didn't know was that Steve was going to be that present.

One of the trio, a younger man named Garrett or Gareth, had only half-jokingly suggested that Steve should greet Eddie wearing nothing but a bow around his dick. Thankfully, the others had vetoed the idea, calling it cheesy and lame and saying it would only scare Eddie off. Steve couldn't help but feel a little offended by that because the last time his dick had frightened someone away had been in high school. He had been her first and she had been too intimidated by his size. Other than that, he had never had any complaints, thank you very much.

He hadn't talked to them directly when they had asked for his services; that was Robin's domain. She handled the initial negotiations, background checks, and vetting of potential clients before Steve even learned of their existence. Trusting Robin's judgment, he assumed these men were legitimate. Yet, there was something off about the whole situation.

Their lack of experience with this kind of thing was evident, demonstrated by their inquiry about kissing etiquette like this was Pretty Woman ("you have to tell Eddie if kissing is not okay dude") and their less-than-tactful remarks. When Steve had entered the hotel room, one of them, whom they had referred to as Freak, had made a comment about Steve certainly not being Eddie’s type, prompting Garrett/Gareth to reply "Nah, he secretly likes those pretty frat boy types, he'd just never admit it".

But it had been the quiet, earnest demeanor of Jeff, the third man, that had given Steve pause. Jeff had pulled him aside with a solemn plea to be careful with Eddie.

"Hey, man, you seem like a nice guy, and your manager Robin assured us that you'd take good care of Eddie. Just. Be gentle with him. He acts tough sometimes, but he deserves someone to be sweet to him, okay?"

Steve had just nodded dumbly, thrown by the unusual request. Most of the time his clients booked him directly, and while some had asked him to fuck them soft and slow, Jeff's request had sounded different to him. As if there was something they weren’t telling him about this Eddie.

Perhaps the guy had been hurt before, scarred by a past relationship, and now he approached any kind of intimacy with trepidation. Steve had had a few women hire him to help them get over something like that, so it wasn’t totally unheard of. No men had, but then again, he had only been offering his services to men for a few months, so maybe Eddie was just the first of his male clients with these kind of issues.

If Eddie was indeed struggling with past hurts, then Steve was determined to make him feel cherished and desired once again.

Lost in his thoughts, he almost missed the sound of voices growing louder outside.

Fuck, Steve thought startled. Even though he had been waiting for them, it still came as a surprise that they were already there. One for which he felt completely unprepared, because it was only then that he began to think about how to position himself.

"I don't know why you couldn't just give it to me later or tomorrow, guys," someone said with amusement just outside the door. That must have been Eddie, he thought, and found that he liked his voice.

The next voice was Garrett/Gareth's. "Believe us, Eds, you want it now. Come on, hurry up."

"Okay, okay, fine. Since when are you more excited about me getting presents than I am?"

Steve opted for simplicity and decided to sit on the bed, leaning back with his hands behind him. It was casual and easy, but also showed off the long line of his body.

The sound of someone inserting their key card into the slot was followed by the handle being pushed down. Then the door to the room opened, revealing the lucky guy who would have him for the next two hours.

He’s pretty, was the first thing that came to Steve’s mind. Tall and slender, with a small waist and very nice arms decorated in black ink. Most stunning, however, was his face. The pale skin was a tantalizing contrast to his pink lips, dark hair framing high cheekbones and deep brown eyes that looked at him like a deer in the headlights.

Then, the door closed with a bang.

“Guys? There’s some dude sitting on my bed, you might wanna call security. I’ll hold down the door but you gotta hurry.” Eddie’s voice trembled slightly and Steve was torn between worry and amusement.

Faintly he heard the other men laughing and Eddie's indignant squeak. "What the hell are you laughing at? There`s a crazy stalker in my room! Probably armed and dangerous!"

"Oh yeah, I bet he has a big gun," Garrett/Gareth snorted, and Steve rolled his eyes at the very obvious, very bad joke. The guy probably thought he was really funny.

Eddie seemed to agree with Steve, even if unknowingly. "Har-bloody-har. Jeff, c'mon, tell me you at least take this seriously!"

This was one of those nights when Steve wished he had been smart enough, or at least ambitious enough to go to college, so he wouldn't have had to make money on the side dealing with shit like this. At least most of his clients were easier to deal with, if not as easy on the eyes as this Eddie.

"Eddie, trust me, you can open the door. He's harmless."

"How do you know?"

"Because he's your birthday present!" Freak interrupted, clearly losing patience. "Gareth's right, we should have just made him put a bow on his dick and be done with it. At least then we wouldn't be standing here arguing."

Steve wondered if they knew he could hear every word they were saying. Like everyone else in the surrounding rooms, because they weren’t exactly quiet. He just hoped nobody called the cops.

"He's... What the fuck? You can't just give someone a person, that's human trafficking!"

Obviously tired of making a scene outside a hotel room, Jeff just opened the door and pulled Eddie inside, trusting the others to follow. They did, closing the door behind them, and then they all looked at Steve, who was still sitting on the bed, regretting all his life choices that had led him there.

He gave a little wave with his fingers. "Surprise."

Eddie blinked at him, speechless, his mouth slightly ajar. Despite the situation, he remained unfairly attractive, his wide eyes stirring something in Steve that he hesitated to explore further. Steve's knowledge of Eddie was limited to his questionable choice of friends, yet he felt an inexplicable urge to shield him from the world, to keep him safe. The urge was unexpected in itself, but even more so in the intensity with which it hit him.

"This is Steve," Gareth introduced, stumbling over his words. "And, uh, well, he... yeah. Guys?" Gareth glanced around, hoping for support from the others, but they remained silent.

With the air of someone who didn’t expect any different, Steve rose from his spot on the bed and approached Eddie. As he stood before him, Steve was enveloped in a mixture of clean body spray, shampoo, and a faint whiff of cigarette smoke. Eddie's eyes, even larger up close, held a warm hue that was quite captivating.

Steve flashed a smile, aiming for a blend of reassurance and flirtation.

"I'm Steve, and for the next two hours, I can be whatever you need," he declared, though technically, twenty minutes had already elapsed. Nevertheless, for Eddie, Steve was willing to make an exception.

Eddie, inexplicably, horrifyingly, burst out laughing before slapping a hand over his own mouth, his eyes even wider than before as they looked at Steve in abject horror.

"Oh my God, I am so sorry. I wasn't laughing at you, it's just this whole situation is so... and then that sounded like... I feel like I stumbled into a porn plot."

Eddie looked embarrassed by his reaction, but Steve had to agree. It all felt a little ridiculous all of a sudden and he thought he could use that to his advantage, to make Eddie feel more comfortable.

"I guess you're not wrong," Steve laughed playfully, rubbing a hand across his neck. "That was a line that could have come out of a bad porno. Let me try again." He took Eddie's hand in his own and gave him a smile, a real one this time. "Hi, I'm Steve, and your friends hired me to be your birthday present. What that means is that I'm here to make sure you have a good time, a great one even. Just tell me what you'd like to do, as long as it's nothing crazy, I'm in. I don't do pain play, nothing that leaves bruises or cuts, no breath play, no hard kink of any kind and no barebacking."

"Oh my God, you are here as a sex gift," Eddie exclaimed way too loudly as Steve finished listing the things he wouldn't do, turning even paler. Steve was so focused on Eddie that he hadn’t even noticed the other men leaving the room, but upon seeing Eddie's shocked reaction, he realized they were already gone.

"I can't believe they hired a sex worker to deflower me. I told them to leave it the fuck alone. God, this is so fucking embarrassing," Eddie whined, burying his face in his hands with a long and anguished groan.

It tugged at Steve's heartstrings, the way Eddie pulled away from him, clearly embarrassed. His first instinct was to pull him into his arms and tell him it was okay, that Steve got him. But Eddie's words continued to ring in his ears as the puzzle pieces began to fall into place. Deflower me. As in, he was supposed to take Eddie's virginity. That's why the others had been so weird about it, and why Eddie had been so shocked and clueless when he found him in his room.

Jeff's words came back to him, "be gentle with him" and "he deserves someone to be sweet to him". It wasn't that Eddie was necessarily recovering from past hurts, but that there were no past experiences. Or maybe there had been, and that was why he had never gone all the way. Because looking at him, Steve had a hard time understanding how anyone could not want to sleep with Eddie.

"Eddie," Steve tried gently, "are you...have you ever had sex with anyone?"

Peering at Steve through his fingers, Eddie shook his head.

"Did you, I mean, have you done things like handjobs, blowjobs, anything like that?"

Another anguished groan as Eddie shook his head again.

"Making out? Kissing?" Steve had to know what he was working with here, because the last thing he wanted was to do something Eddie wasn't ready for.

This at least made Eddie lower his hands so that Steve could see the expression on his face. He looked even more embarrassed, his flushed cheeks red, but there was some indignation in his eyes. "I've kissed before. And made out with someone. Well, above the waist. And fully clothed. But it still counts!"

Eddie's voice sounded almost pleading and it left Steve aching for him. He had no idea why someone as gorgeous as Eddie hadn't had sex yet, but he knew he shouldn't act like there was something wrong with him because of it.

"Hey, man, it's okay. Really, I'm not judging you," Steve tried to reassure him. He was tempted to reach out and offer some physical comfort as well, but he wasn't sure how welcome that would be as Eddie laughed bitterly at his words.

"Oh, please. I'm judging me! I'm turning 30 today and no one's even touched my dick. I'm pathetic."

Steve did reach out to him then, placing a comforting hand on Eddie's shoulder. "Hey, come on now. There's nothing pathetic about it. Everyone's journey is different, and there's no rush."

Eddie sighed, his shoulders slumping under Steve's touch. "Easy for you to say. You've probably had more action than you can count."

Steve chuckled softly. "Maybe, but that doesn’t mean anything. Quality over quantity, right?"

Eddie gave him a weak smile, but the tension in his expression remained. "I just feel like I missed out on something, you know? I grew up in a small and even more small-minded town in Indiana where it was impossible to find another gay kid without risking getting beaten up or worse. They had it out for me anyway because...well, it doesn't matter. By the time I finally left and moved to Chicago, I was 21 and hadn't even kissed anyone except Lisa Green in eighth grade, which only confirmed what I already suspected. I made out with a few guys in clubs and bars here, but it always felt... wrong. I didn't need to be romanced or anything, but I just... I wanted to feel some kind of connection, y'know? But anyone who wanted to date me, I was too scared to tell them that I had no experience whatsoever, too in my head about it. And before I know it, I'm 30 years old and my friends are hiring an incredibly hot guy to pity-fuck me."

Steve nodded sympathetically. "It's not a pity fuck, Eddie. But I get it. Just, believe me, sex isn't everything. And it's definitely not a measure of your worth."

Eddie let out a bitter laugh. "Tell that to my libido."

Steve couldn't help but laugh along with him. "Fair point. But seriously, Eddie, there's nothing wrong with taking your time. When the right moment comes along, you'll know.”

With an expression of utter defeat, Eddie mumbled. “Figured not even someone getting paid for it would want to sleep with me.” Then, he turned around and walked over to the door. “I’m sorry I wasted your time, Steve. Thank you for being so nice.”

“Whoa, wait a second. I never said I don’t wanna sleep with you. I just assumed, y’know, that you’d want to wait for the right guy.”

Eddie looked like a kicked puppy. “It’s fine Steve, I understand. There’s nothing sexy about a 30 year old virgin, you don’t have to lie.” Then, hanging his head, he pulled his shoulders up to his ears and put his hands in his pockets, making himself as small as humanly possible while still standing.

Steve couldn't stand to see Eddie so down on himself any longer, so he decided to show him exactly how much he wanted to sleep with him by simply pulling his shirt over his head, leaving him naked from the waist up. Then he reached down, unzipped his pants and stepped out of them as well, so that he was standing in front of Eddie in nothing but his underwear. He hoped to make himself at least a quarter as vulnerable as Eddie must have felt at that moment.

"Eddie, please look at me." When Eddie did, his eyes roamed over Steve's body as if he couldn't help himself, and Steve felt their gaze like a physical touch. He was accustomed to people looking at him with hunger and desire, and while Eddie's face showed signs of both, there was something else in his expression—a hint of longing, if Steve were pressed to put a name to it.

As the seconds ticked by, Steve wondered if Eddie would ever grow tired of drinking him in, since he showed no signs of being done anytime soon. But Steve began to suspect that maybe Eddie wasn't doing anything else because he didn't know what or how, so Steve had to take the lead here.

Closing the distance between them, he took Eddie's hands again, but this time he didn't hold them; he placed them on his hips. "You can touch me, Eddie. I want you to. I want you. So if you want me too, all you have to do is tell me." When Eddie continued to look at him wide-eyed, Steve asked him in his softest, most encouraging voice, "What do you want, Eddie?"

"I don't know." Eddie's hands on his hips trembled slightly, but his grip tightened, thumbs running up and down Steve's flanks. "You. Whatever you want."

Well, that was easy. "I want to make you feel good. Can I?"

"Please."

No one had ever looked at Steve the way Eddie did at that moment. It was as if Steve was the last drop of water in the desert—not like he wanted Steve, but like he needed him.

Steve cupped his face in his hands and pulled him close, whispering in the infinitesimal space between them, "I got you, baby," before sealing their lips in a tender kiss.

True to his words, Eddie kissed him back as if he had kissed people before, even if not very often. His lips still moved a little awkwardly against Steve's, but what he lacked in experience he made up for in feeling. Not even his actual girlfriends had ever kissed him the way Eddie was kissing him right now - like he couldn't believe he was allowed to do it, wavering between greedy hunger and grateful adoration that made Steve's head spin.

As they kissed, Steve felt a rush of warmth flood through him, a sensation he hadn't experienced in a long time. It was more than just physical attraction; there were the first stirrings of an emotional connection forming between them, one that felt utterly inappropriate within the confines of their current situation.

On the other hand, Steve reasoned with himself, Eddie deserved someone who would be sweet to him, as Jeff had put it. Given how he was starting to feel about Eddie, that wasn't going to be a challenge at all.

Breaking the kiss reluctantly, Steve rested his forehead against Eddie's, their breaths mingling in the space between them. "You're amazing, Eddie," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper.

Eddie's cheeks flushed a deeper shade of pink and he smiled shyly. "Thank you. You're not so bad yourself."

Steve chuckled softly, a warmth spreading in his chest at Eddie's response. "What do you say we take this to the bed?"

Eddie nodded eagerly, his eyes shining with a mixture of excitement and nervousness. "Yeah, I'd like that."

"Good," Steve said, taking Eddie by the hips as well and beginning to slowly walk them backwards, their eyes never leaving each other's.

As they made their way to the bed, Steve's heart pounded with anticipation. He couldn't shake the feeling that this was a pivotal moment, one that could change everything for him.

Once they reached the bed, Steve gently guided Eddie to sit down, their knees touching as they faced each other. The air between them crackled with tension, charged with the promise of what was to come.

Steve took Eddie's hands in his own, his touch gentle yet firm. "Eddie, I want you to know that we don't have to do anything you're not comfortable with," he said softly, wanting to reassure him.

Eddie met his gaze with a mixture of gratitude and desire. "I trust you, Steve," he replied, his voice filled with sincerity. Steve had no idea how Eddie could trust him so easily after just meeting him, but he vowed to do right by him and not betray the trust placed in him.

With a gentle smile, Steve leaned in to kiss Eddie again, his lips meeting Eddie's with a tender urgency. This time Steve took the opportunity to deepen the kiss, sliding his tongue into the wet heat of Eddie's mouth, gently coaxing Eddie to join him in exploring each other.

The first tentative touch of Eddie's tongue to his own sent sparks of electricity through him and he would have been embarrassed by the moan that fell from his lips had it not been for the almost violent shudder that went through Eddie at the simple touch. When their lips parted, Steve glanced at the other man and found him looking tense, his hands clenched into fists on his thighs, and suddenly his reaction made sense.

"Baby, you can touch me. Don't hold back, I want you to show me how good I make you feel."

Closing his eyes with a pained expression, Eddie sighed deeply, defeated. "I feel like I don't know how. I don't want to mess it up. I mean, you must be used to incredible sex and then there's me, probably accidentally pinching you or something."

"Eddie," Steve said, wrapping his own hands around Eddie's clenched ones, "I'm sorry to break it to you, but you'll never learn if you don't try. It's like riding a bike. You can't learn it in theory, you have to get on it and ride it." And because Steve worried that might have been a little harsh, he added: "I'm your training wheels, and after tonight you can upgrade to a bike without them." Uncurling Eddie's hands and intertwining their fingers, Steve nudged their shoulders together. "Soooo. Wanna go for a ride?"

Eddie's lips twitched into a small smile at Steve's analogy, and some of the tension seemed to ease from his shoulders. "Okay, maybe I can give it a try," he said, his voice uncertain but determined.

Steve couldn't help but admire Eddie's bravery in the face of his own insecurities. He leaned in to press a gentle kiss against Eddie's forehead, offering silent encouragement.

With a deep breath, Eddie tentatively began to explore Steve's body, his touch hesitant yet eager. Steve guided him with soft murmurs of encouragement, reassuring him every step of the way.

At some point, Steve shifted back onto the bed and lay down on the sheets, offering more of himself to Eddie's curious hands. They were especially drawn to his chest, scratching the thick hair, and when Steve made an appreciative sound, Eddie let them wander to Steve's nipples.

"Start slow, run your thumb over them." Eddie did as Steve told him, and Steve noticed how every encouragement from him seemed to hit Eddie with another wave of arousal. His eyes darkened even more after Steve told him, "Just like that, baby. You're doing so good, learning so fast. Now try adding some spit so your thumb glides easier."

Eddie had been eagerly and obediently following his instructions the whole time, so Steve wasn't surprised when he immediately went to put Steve's latest order into action. What he didn't expect, however, was that Eddie would simply put his mouth on his nipple instead of wetting his thumb with it.

"Fuck," he moaned, his hands digging into Eddie's hair without his conscious decision, desperately trying to keep his mouth on his chest. "So good for me, such a good boy, just like that."

His words only spurred Eddie on, who moaned needily at his words, and as his confidence grew, so did his boldness. Steve felt the first tentative touch of teeth against his skin, setting his nerves on fire, and he encouraged Eddie to keep going by tugging at his curls. "Harder, baby."

Being the wonderful, beautiful, good boy that he was, Eddie went harder, his teeth making sure to leave marks on his chest. It was an intoxicating feeling to be laid out here, almost naked, while Eddie was still fully clothed, and yet it was Steve who was in control.

So far he had been able to ignore his cock, hard and heavy and leaking into his trunks. But it was getting harder and harder, pun intended, to keep his need for relief in check. It wasn't often that a client made him feel like he was about to lose his mind with lust, but Eddie was shaping up to be his exception in so many ways.

"Baby, you're incredible. I'm so hard for you, I need you to touch me or I'll lose my goddamn mind."

That finally gave Eddie pause. Pulling back from his mission to cover every inch of Steve's chest in bruises and bite marks, he lifted his head and looked down at where Steve's hard cock was obscenely tenting his trunks.

Watching Eddie wet his lips with his tongue, Steve decided to take a chance. "Can you take them off for me, darling? They're getting awfully uncomfortable."

That startled Eddie out of his silent reverie, his big brown eyes, which had captivated Steve from the start, turning to him. "You mean..."

"Only if you want to. We're not doing anything you're not ready for," Steve made sure to reassure him once again that while Steve was taking the lead here, Eddie was the one calling the shots. If he told him to stop, Steve would, no questions asked. "But if you're afraid of getting it wrong, I want you to know that nothing has ever felt as right as your hands and mouth on me. You couldn't get it wrong if you tried, baby."

It seemed to be just the right thing to say because Eddie leaned down to capture Steve's lips in another kiss, his weight balanced on his forearm next to Steve's head. His hand, still resting on Steve's chest, began to move again, fingertips dancing across his ribs and down his stomach until they reached their destination just above his waistband.

Eddie had moved to lie more comfortably next to Steve when he had let his hands and mouth map Steve's body, but now he positioned himself next to Steve's knees.

He looked up at Steve as his fingers curled around the waistband of his trunks, and tougher men than Steve would have had a hard time not falling in love with him right then and there. His lips, still slick with spit from their kiss, were slightly parted while his bottomless eyes looked at Steve with something akin to worship. Steve's fingers had done a great job of making his dark curls look even messier, and he was almost as proud of that as he was of the red flush that adorned Eddie's throat and cheeks.

"Do it," he order-pleaded, and Eddie listened as he had all night, pulling down Steve’s last piece of clothing and throwing it on the floor next to the bed.

The expression on his face was almost comical, breaking the thick tension in the room for a moment. Steve knew he wasn't exactly small. Not even average, but it had been a while since anyone had stared at his dick like it was a venomous snake.

"It won't bite you, I promise," he joked as the silence between them stretched on.

That at least got a snort out of Eddie, even if his eyes were still glued to his hard and leaking cock, which didn't seem to mind being stared at with a mixture of apprehension and wonder.

"I know that. It's just..." Eddie began before trailing off.

A thought occurred to Steve. "You've seen a dick before, right?"

In retrospect it might have been a bit insulting and a lot stupid to ask, but then again this wasn't exactly his area of expertise.

"Yes, Steve. Besides my own, I've seen dicks. Just not... y'know... a monster dick like that. I mean, fuck. Are you sure this thing will even fit?"

His first reaction was to laugh, because Eddie was funny and adorable in his incredulity, but the laughter died rather quickly as the rest of his words registered with Steve.

"Fit? As in - do you want me to fuck you?"

That finally made Eddie blink up at him, tilting his head like a confused puppy. "Um, yeah? I thought that was the plan all along."

It wasn't. Steve thought he'd show Eddie the ropes, how to handle another body, so he could experience his first time with someone he genuinely cared about. Not that Steve had that when he lost his virginity, but he thought Eddie deserved it.

But if Eddie was sure, Steve was more than happy to oblige. "Just checking in. And don't worry. It'll fit. It always has, it just takes a little patience and a lot of lube." When Eddie still looked a little doubtful, he added, "Do you trust me?"

"Yes." No hesitation, and that made the dangerous feeling in his chest glow brighter.

"Good, that makes it even easier. You need to be comfortable, relaxed. The more you can let go, the easier it will be."

Eddie nodded, his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed. "Okay, Steve. You're the expert. I trust you. Just. Remember, I have no idea what I'm doing, okay?"

Steve sat up and cupped Eddie's cheek in his hand. "I know, and I'll take good care of you, I promise," Steve promised, sealing it with a kiss.

After they parted, he tugged at Eddie's shirt. "You're awfully overdressed, sweetheart. Mind if I help you get out of these?"

With Eddie's consent, Steve undresses him, slowly, reverently. He removed each piece of clothing with the same care as he would handle a precious gem, his hands gentle, making sure to appreciate every inch of skin that was revealed to him. And after his hands have had their fill, his mouth follows, his lips branding his ownership in invisible writing all over Eddie's body.

He paid special attention to Eddie's tattoos, and when he found the nipple piercings, Steve's brain short-circuited. He only stopped playing with them when Eddie was writhing and whimpering from the stimulation, his arousal clear in the way sweat slicked his skin and the outline of his hard cock was visible through his skin-tight jeans.

"Steve, please," he begged, and Steve was pretty sure Eddie didn't even know for what.

"Shh, I got you, baby," Steve had cooed in reply before continuing his mission to get Eddie naked and under him.

Soon the positions were reversed and Eddie was spread out on the bed, naked and wanting, while Steve was kneeling beside him, his hand stroking Eddie's thigh soothingly as he drank him in.

"Fuck, Eddie, I wish you could see yourself right now. You're so fucking beautiful, the prettiest thing I've ever seen. I can't believe you let me have you."

Eddie squirmed, clearly turned on but still self-conscious. Steve vowed to make the latter go away and replace it with nothing but mindless pleasure, helping Eddie let go and float on all the good feelings Steve would make him feel.

He had gotten the lube and a condom out of his bag while Eddie had made himself comfortable, placing them both next to them on the bed. Now he spread some lube on his fingers and warmed it up as he moved to climb between Eddie's legs. His own cock had gone back to half hard, but showed some renewed interest when Eddie immediately spread his legs wider to make room for him.

"Such a good boy, you're just perfect, you know that?"

Then Steve rewarded his good boy with the first finger in his virgin whole. He didn't want it to matter, and it didn't, not in the way Eddie thought it would. But the thought that he was the first to see Eddie like that, to feel him clench around the foreign intrusion before slowly, gradually relaxing as Steve continued to stroke the inside of his thigh with his other hand? It all made more heat pool in his groin, his cock full and heavy again between his own legs.

"That's it," Steve encouraged him as his finger sank in to his knuckle, " taking it so well. How does it feel, baby?"

"Weird," Eddie said truthfully, before wriggling his hips. "Full. Not bad, just. Weird."

Steve took that as all the encouragement he needed to start pumping the finger in and out in imitation of what he planned to do to Eddie with his cock. It went easily and soon Eddie was matching his thrusts with his hips. "That's right, take what you need. You look so good fucking yourself on my finger, sweetheart. You'll look even better on my cock."

Judging that Eddie was ready for a second finger, he leaned forward and softly called for Eddie to look at him. When he did, lifting his head from where he had pressed it into the pillow, Steve caught his eyes and held them as he slowly closed his lips around Eddie's hard cock, taking it into his mouth inch by delicious inch.

It worked like a charm as Eddie was too busy throwing his head back with a broken moan to even notice Steve adding another finger. It was only when he started pumping both fingers in and out while still licking and sucking on Eddie's cock like his favorite ice cream that Eddie seemed to notice, tightening around him for a moment before relaxing again.

Steve rewarded him with a clever swirl of his tongue and a well-aimed crook of his fingers that made Eddie scream.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck, what the fuck was that," Eddie gasped as Steve pulled off of him with an obscenely wet sound.

With a third finger prodding at Eddie's slick hole, Steve grinned up at him. "Your prostate."

"I thought that was a myth."

"Nope, not a myth. Just hard to reach by yourself."

He took Eddie back into his mouth, his finger persistently nudging at his entrance until it finally slipped in alongside his other two fingers. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Eddie balling the sheets in his clenched fists, trying not to thrash around too much. The thought of feeling that around his cock was almost too much, as Eddie was incredibly responsive and Steve had to think of something unpleasant for a second to calm himself.

Steve continued to blow and finger Eddie until he could feel Eddie's cock hardening even more in his mouth, signaling his impending orgasm. His three fingers sank into him like a warm knife into butter, no resistance whatsoever, so Steve considered Eddie ready to try and take his 'monster dick' as he had so eloquently put it earlier.

Eddie's whimper as he pulled his fingers out of his body sounded desperate, and when Steve also pulled off his dick, Eddie was right back to begging.

"Please, Steve, I was so close, so fucking close, I need you, please," he babbled, exactly in that mindless place where only his own pleasure mattered instead of his own insecurities.

In a true display of multi-tasking, Steve managed to stroke Eddie's thigh soothingly while simultaneously ripping the condom wrapper open with his teeth. It was almost a shame that Eddie was so far gone that he didn't even notice.

Next time, Steve thought, immediately chastising himself for getting ahead of himself. There was no guarantee that Eddie would want to go out with the guy his friends had paid to deflower him.

"Shh, baby, almost there, just getting ready to make you feel really good. I can't wait to be inside you, Eddie, you have no idea."

Slicking his condom-covered cock, Steve took a pillow from the bed and placed it under Eddie's hips before wrapping Eddie's right leg around his waist as he positioned himself. Eddie looked up at him with dazed eyes, like he was still floating somewhere, not quite here. And even though Steve wanted him to remain there, he needed Eddie's attention right now.

"Sweetheart, I need you to listen to me, can you do that?" He could tell it was a struggle, but shaking his head like he was clearing cowebs, Eddie came back to him. "Thanks, baby, you're still so good for me, aren't you?" Eddie nodded eagerly and Steve continued. "I need you to be a good boy and do what I tell you. When I push in, I need you to press down on it as if you were trying to push me out. Can you try that?" Another nod, this one firm, determined. "And breathe, baby, deep breaths. I got you, we'll take it as slow as you need."

And with that, Steve began to push in, trusting Eddie to work with him. And he did, beautifully, doing exactly what Steve told him to do. Still, it was clear that it was a lot to take, his cock even thicker and longer than his three fingers. It was slow going, every inch fought for, and by the time Steve was halfway in they were both covered in sweat, so Steve decided to take a short break.

Eddie was having none of it, though, and looked up at him pleadingly. "Steve? Please don't stop. I want you inside."

"But I am already inside," Steve reminded him, as if Eddie had forgotten how he was being impaled on Steve's cock right now.

"More." Reaching out for Steve with his hand, Eddie replied with only one word, but it was enough to make Steve fall forward, inadvertently sinking a little further.

He didn't try to stop again.

Then, finally, blessedly, Steve sank all the way in, Eddie's muscles relaxing enough to let him in entirely. It wasn't his first time, far from it, but it could very well have been from the way it made him feel to be enveloped in Eddie's tight heat. Steve couldn't tell who was looking more starry-eyed, Eddie or him, as they stared at each other in wonder.

"You feel," Steve began, suddenly at a loss for words. "Like nothing I've ever felt before."

"Move," Eddie pleaded in reply, his eyes traitorously bright. "Please, Steve."

Steve could never deny him, not when he begged like that, so he simply kissed Eddie's cheek, his nose, and then his lips as his hips withdrew before sinking back in. Picking up a slow and easy rhythm, Steve began to move and soon Eddie was meeting him thrust for thrust.

They moved together in a slow, sensual dance, each touch and caress igniting a fire within them. Each thrust tore another sound from their throats, muffled by each other's lips, because try as he might, he couldn't stop kissing Eddie. And as they lost themselves in the heat of the moment, Steve knew he wouldn't come back from it unchanged. He already felt a sense of connection unlike anything he had ever experienced before. It was as if they were two pieces of a puzzle finally coming together, fitting perfectly.

He just hoped that Eddie felt the same, that it wasn't just the magic of firsts that made him gasp and beg and say things that made Steve's heart soar as much as his cock twitch.

"Steve, Steve, Steve," he cried, his voice cracking, "oh God, I never thought...fuck," another moan as Steve hit his prostate once more. "How do people do anything but this?" Eddie marveled as he tightened around Steve, desperately wanting him to press against that wonderful spot inside him. "I never want to leave this bed again, just let you fuck me all day long."

Oh, how much Steve would love that too. To stop himself from saying something crazy like 'yes, please move in with me so we can fuck as often as possible', he reached for Eddie's hand on his hip and intertwined their fingers next to Eddie's head, squeezing his hand instead of spilling all his messy feelings.

The new position had him sinking further down on Eddie, Eddie's hard cock trapped between their bellies and the added friction had him gasping and panting. "Fuck, Steve, I'm so close."

"Yeah, me too, baby. Can you be a good boy and hold on a little longer for me?"

Unable to form any more words, Eddie just nodded. Steve rewarded him with another deep kiss as his hips picked up speed, his thrusting becoming more powerful as he finally allowed himself to chase his own pleasure. He wanted, needed them to come together, and judging by the copious amount of pre-cum smeared against their bellies and the way Eddie's cock kept twitching, Eddie was really close.

As he felt the telltale signs of his own orgasm spreading through him, his balls tightening and the feeling of a coil in his groin being pulled tight enough to snap at any moment, he lowered his face to Eddie's ear, took the lobe between his teeth and tugged at it to get his attention. Then, putting every ounce of heat, lust and desire he felt right now into his voice, he rasped, "Come for me, baby."

Without a hand on him, Eddie came with a sound that burned itself into Steve's memory and would surely haunt his dreams for weeks and months to come.

Overwhelmed by Eddie's sounds as he lost himself in his own pleasure, his hips bucking and grinding, Steve couldn't help but follow him over the edge. When he finally came, it was almost painful in its intensity and he could barely keep himself upright.

It took him an embarrassingly long time to catch his breath, and even longer to pull himself away from Eddie long enough to get rid of the condom and fetch a washcloth from the bathroom to clean the cum from their bellies and chests.

Then he turned off the light, crawled back into bed with Eddie and pulled the covers over them before drawing Eddie into his arms, who went willingly, still suspiciously quiet. Steve would have been more concerned had it not been for the dazed smile on his face, so he decided to let him be for the moment, basking in the afterglow as he continued to stroke Eddie's back.

What felt like hours later, as they lay tangled in each other's arms, bathed in the soft glow of moonlight filtering through the window, Steve pressed a gentle kiss to Eddie's temple, feeling a surge of affection and contentment wash over him.

"I'm glad you decided to go for that ride," he whispered, warmth coloring his voice.

Eddie snuggled closer, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "Me too," he murmured, his voice filled with a mixture of happiness and wonder.

And as they drifted off to sleep, wrapped in each other's embrace, Steve knew he had found something truly special in Eddie. Tomorrow he would tell Robin to give the guys their money back because Eddie hadn't been a client from the start. It was way too soon to even think about it, but deep down he hoped that theirs would be the kind of love that was as beautiful and enduring as the stars in the night sky.

#steddie #steddie fanfic #steddie smut #sub eddie week #sub eddie munson #dom steve harrington #eddie x steve #stranger things fanfiction #my writing #nsft

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cocobirdi · 5 months

Text

𝐁𝐀𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐎𝐎𝐌 𝐁𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐊𝐒 | CLAY

request. @BlueSpicaStar on wattpad

word count. 1.5k.

warnings. like three curse words. (not proofread)

info. pre-trolls trilogy.

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"BroZone! BroZone! BroZone!"

You didn't even know why you were here, to be quite frank.

How, out of all the people your friend knew, did she decide you'd be the best pick to attend the silly concert with her? When, in your years of friendship, have you expressed even the slightest interest in BroZone? And why, out of all your options, did you agree to go?

You aren't a fan. You never were a fan; you could really care less about the band until she brought them up and then invited you to attend with her.

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"How do you not know BroZone? They are literally dominating the music industry as we breathe. There's merchandise and posters of them being sold everywhere—hello, even the grocery store sells merch! Way too expensive compared to other shops... and the material does not feel very great," she ranted, the energetic girl tapping at her cheek.

"But anyway, how do you not know them? Have you been living under a rock?"

Engrossed in the scrapbook under you, retelling the events of your day in the form of glitter and silly fuzzy drawings. You had barely paid any mind to her or her rambling, continuing to draw, cut, and paste away.

The truth is, you had actually heard of the band—hard not to when it's plastered everywhere—but due to your negligence in the conversation, you had been throwing mindless uh-huh's and uh-uh's without a second thought, giving misleading responses.

She called your name with a drawl, flicking your forehead.

"Ow," you mumbled, looking up at her with a pout at the attack. "What'd you do that for?"

This time your name was said in frustration, receiving a smack on your head instead, "I've been talking to you and you weren't listening. I am wasting precious vocals here that I could be instead saving for the concert!"

"What concert—ow!"

"BroZone." She deadpanned.

"Oh, I know BroZone." You looked back down at the scrapbook, glueing and pasting a little mini version of your friend. "Not a fan."

The biggest gasp ever came from the other girl, her hands dramatically coming up and covering her mouth in utter disbelief. With the way she was acting and the hurt on her face, anyone would've assumed that she'd been told someone was dead, and to her, you might as well be.

"Not a fan? How are you not a fan?"

Her eyes widened, and her hands came down to slam shut the book, keen on getting your undivided attention to focus on this very important issue.

"I don't know. Their music is kind of... bland. They're just like any other boyband out there."

"Bland? They are paving the way for music, unlike any band before." she grabbed your face, squishing your cheeks together. "Do you know what the family harmony is?"

"Duh. What, have they been able to achieve it? Because if so, then maybe they are as good as you're telling me."

"Not... yet." she hissed. "But soon!"

"For sure."

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Finally managing to escape the clutches of your friend, who held on to you for dear life, claiming that the concert was just about to start—which is exactly why you wanted to flee—using the excuse of having to use the bathroom. The screaming would no doubt burst your eardrums and the little sanity you had left.

You mindlessly wandered the mainly empty halls, unsure of where exactly the bathroom was.

The only trolls you found were some security and a few that rushed past you in a hurry, presumably late, compared to everyone else, to the show.

You were tempted to ask where the bathrooms were, but the intimidation of the dull and scary workers overcame that.

You glanced at the exit, a little voice inside your voice irking you to leave, escape it all. Would your friend really miss your absence that much? They'd probably be too enamored and lost in the band to notice.

A step was taken, but not for the exit, with your eyes catching the familiar sign of the restroom. Your lips curled up slightly at the sanctuary, rushing towards it.

It was a family restroom, and it probably wasn't going to be occupied by any families anytime soon; you took advantage of it's vacancy.

Or at least, you assumed it was vacant.

Your hand reached for the handle, gripping, only for it to be pulled without any force, the door almost hitting you right in the face if it weren't for fast reflexes.

"Oh sh*t, I'm so sorry. I didn't think anyone would be out here right now." The other troll spoke fast and anxiously, a hand cupping his face, like he was trying to hide from you.

You were spooked a bit by the sudden scare, unaware of the occupancy, but your racing heart slowly calmed down to its regular beat, offering a smile to calm the other's nerves.

"It's okay, me neither."

A turquoise troll with a yellow puffer jacket and hair, white shorts, and wristbands appeared, getting a good look at him. He didn't just sound nervous; he also looked nervous.

He glanced from the floor to you, "I mean, uh."

His entire person changed in a second; an attempt to look more confident than he actually is was made, a smug smile on his lips as he snapped his fingers, winking, "Just wanted to get away real quick."

Licking your lips, you raised a brow in confusion at the change of attitude and nodded slowly.

"That's nice..."

How do you kindly tell him to get the fuck out of your way so you can get into the bathroom?

His face dropped somewhat at your lack of reaction. A mixture of confusion, relief, and intrigue crossed his features.

"You don't know me?" He blurted, "You're strangely calm."

"No. I'm sorry, have we met before?"

He smirked, shaking his head softly, his tense shoulders dropping as he sighed, "No."

He leaned against the restroom doorframe, eyeing you with interest. "Most trolls would be losing their minds right about now. I'm Clay, by the way."

"Nice to meet you, Clay." You maintained a calm demeanor despite the strange encounter.

He paused, studying your face as if searching for something. "You're not here for the concert, are you? You seem a bit... out of place."

Your eyes shifted, avoiding a direct answer. "Let's just say I'm not the biggest BroZone fan."

His expression shifted, a playful look in his eyes. "Oh, not a fan of the greatest band in the world, are you?"

You chuckled and shook your head.

"I think that's an exaggeration."

Clay grinned, leaning in a bit closer. "They're not just a band; they're a family. They're all about family harmony. Once you get it, you'll understand."

He spoke as if he weren't part of the band himself, amusing both you and him.

Your eyebrow was raised in disbelief. "Family harmony? As in the unachievable? Sounds like a unique selling point."

He chuckled. "You'll see. Maybe you just need to experience it for yourself."

The crowd's cheering grew louder, catching both of you off-guard. His face dropped and he straightened up, putting distance between the two of you once more.

"That's my cue. See you later...?" He waved his hand, urging you for your name with a growing grin as he shimmied past you to the exit, allowing you entry into the bathroom.

"(Y/N)," you nodded. "And that's if I can even find you in that big ass crowd."

"Oh, you'll find me, alright."

And with a wink, he was gone, leaving you wanting for what he meant.

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Little did you know, you'd find out exactly what he meant the moment you made it back to your friend. She stood upset, scolding you for taking so long but also praising how you managed to make it back with perfect timing, the concert beginning the moment you arrived.

You groaned, smacking yourself in frustration.

As the concert echoed through the arena, you found yourself oddly drawn to the music, not because it was BroZone, but because there seemed to be a familiar dude on stage. The same one you had encountered in the bathroom just ten minutes ago.

Clay couldn't shake you from his mind.

Even with the crowd chanting his name, the band's name, their screeches deafening, he couldn't help but let his roaming eyes search for yours.

And then he found you.

You stared back up at him in disbelief, and your jaw dropped at seeing him on stage.

He was dancing and singing, and all the while, all his attention seemed to be on you and your reaction. He messed up the lyrics, a small laugh escaping, earning him an unnoticed glare from the leader of the group.

He winked again and smiled, the crowd going crazy for it, unbeknownst to its target.

At that moment, amidst the flashing lights and the cheers of the crowd, Clay fell in love. Not with the fame or the music, but with the unexpected connection he found with you.

He couldn't help but wonder how someone like you, who wasn't even a fan, could make him feel more alive than any crowd ever could.

▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃

cocobirdie's tweets!

there you go. first oneshot :3. not sure how to feel lolll definitely an overused idea but i wasnt sure how to go about it and i may or not have gone through tumblr searching for an idea on how to make this work. might write a continuation in the far future once i manage to get through all the requests and get motivation again idk!!!

clay's definitely ooc and i know this is a kids movie so they should be silly but i like to think hes more mature off-stage. that is what he wanted/wants anyway right? explains the unsilliness. all the characters are probably gonna be ooc sjjsjdsh anyway yes :3 BAIIII.

#trolls band together #trolls #trolls x reader #trolls band together x reader #brozone #brozone x reader #clay x reader #brozone clay x reader #trolls clay x reader #hes so man

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deadsetobsessions · 3 months

Text

He doesn’t know how they got here, but Jason’s thankful for it. It’s not often that he speaks to Cass, when Jason’s passions are words and righteous murder and Cass’s passions are distinctly not that, but when they do speak, they manage to get along. Somehow.

“So, why don’t you kill?” Jason leans back on the couch, his favorite mug filled with Alfred’s hot chocolate.

Cass is curled against the arm of the sofa. She looks at him, head tilted. Jason knows she’s reading him, but he’s not sure what she’s finding. It’s humbling, and intimidating, to know she sees more than what he allows to show.

“I can see,” she says. “That one time… I killed. I saw. Pain. Fear. Desp- des- not wanting to die.”

“Desperation?”

Cass nods. One of her fingers fiddle with the material of the couch. Jason knows she’s allowing him to see the motion. He knows it’s her silent way of showing him trust.

“There is more. To dying. Like… like they see their lives-They think- remembers. Loves. Their life- regret, love, everything. It goes through-” Cass taps her temple.

“Their lives are flashing through their heads?”

“Yes. Good. Bad. Everything. I see.” Quieter, Cass adds “I know. I know them, then. I killed a life that I know. They love. Everyone, have something they love. I kill, I kill that love.”

“That must suck.”

Cass leans back. She nods, neck releasing their tension and eyes less hunted, more accepting.

“Yes. I don’t want to- I don’t want to be the end.” Cass swivels her shoulders towards him, now. “Why… why do you?”

“Me?” Jason… hasn’t thought about it for a while, nor too deeply. But this is Cass. And her honesty deserves an honest reply. “I kill because some people shouldn’t be left alive to hurt and kill others”

“Not about… Bruce?”

Jason took a sip of his hot chocolate. Cass settled more into the couch, her eyes clear and watchful.

“It used to be,” he admitted. “About him, I mean. It used to be about vengeance. But then I came back to Crime Alley, and then I saw the kids getting hurt instead of being protected. They’re innocent. And then, it wasn’t about Bruce anymore. Killing is just the means to an end now, for me.”

“Do you- not regret?” She makes a gesture at his leg, where on a normal day, his holsters would be.

“I try to make sure I don’t kill people I’d regret, no. Like, you know how sometimes you guys arrest muggers?”

Cass nodded.

“Sometimes,” Jason said, remembering the days of digging through trash for food and the lingering hunger that rumbled through his younger self’s stomach. “They mug people because they’re desperate. I don’t kill those guys. But people deal to kids? Who hurt sex workers? Rapists? They’re doing irreparable harm, with full knowledge of their actions. For profit, mostly. If they’re willing to ruin lives, then they should be ready for their own to be ruined. It’s justice, for people like me.”

Cass studied him. “Justice…?”

“The only kind us Alley kids could ever appreciate. Arresting an abuser, a threat, and having that stick is for the privileged. Having that threat removed completely is relieving.”

“Can’t trust the world to be fair. But death, is fair.”

“Yeah. I think if I saw as much as you do, it’d be harder to do. But I think I’d still kill, because one person’s suffering after a life of being evil is worth the safety of so many others. To know… well, I guess I’m glad I don’t know what that’s like.”

“I see.”

“I know you do,” Jason grins at her. “But not killing is an act of courage too. Even if B makes it seem like it should come instinctually.”

“Yes. He does not connect, with Damian. Does not understand, fully, how hard. To unlearn.”

“Yeah.”

They sit in silence for a while after that, listening to the sounds of their family clambering around in other rooms.

“Hey, Cass?”

Cass turned back to him.

“I would kill David Cain for you.”

He would. It makes the Pit seethe when he thinks about how much David Cain and Lady Shiva hurt Cass for her to get this insanely good at reading people. He hopes she sees the pure honesty and sincerity he feels at that declaration

Cass puts a hand on his shoulder and squeezed once. Twice.

“Okay. Thank you.”

“No objections?”

“… would not feel too bad.”

Jason snorted.

“Yeah. You and me both.”

He doesn’t know how they got here, but he’s thankful for it anyways, because he understands his sister just that much more now.

#cassandra cain #black bat #Jason Todd #red hood #they have different philosophies #but theyre family your honor #cass would stop jay from murdering people if she sees him #he’d let her bc he’s not gonna win that fight #he’d also go back and kill whoever later #David Cain #being a horrible parent I hate this guy #dc #Cassandra Cain seeing someone’s emotions as they die #she doesn’t want to be a weapon #Batman

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velvetures · 6 months

Note

Heya I absolutely adore your writing and I would looove to request something like the “vulnerable” fic you wrote about ghost, but for könig instead. So much fluff and so many praises for our pretty boy, since I feel like he would show us his face but he’d be really anxious and self conscious about it. Feel free to decide if u wanna add nsfw content or not, I’m happy with whatever :))

Touch starved, intimacy craving cod boys will be the death of me 😔

Thank you in advance c:

Defenseless

a/n: so sorry I'm answering this so late, but i hope you enjoy nonetheless 🩶 this isn't the most in-depth... but I really tried to get the feels of it. summary: The Colonel has been stated as having something up his ass for nearly a week. no tw's that i know of...

The Colonel had been unusually insufferable for over a week at this point.

Barking demands, snarling at everyone in his path, making a total bloodbath out of the one mission assigned to him, and practically punishing all of his men during the two training sessions he’d deemed mandatory. He was on a tirade unlike anything you’d been witness to before, and there was hardly a place to escape from him. That only place being the garage which you had not-so-coincidentally been holed-up in after receiving a vehicle that was for less of better description… utterly fucked. But budget apparently didn’t allow for a replacement, so you’d been sent out to fix the helpless machine.

You didn’t necessarily consider yourself “co-workers” in the normal sense. You didn’t share office memos, or even work in office cubicles that shared a flimsy divider. The majority of your work with him came down to managing the transport to and from the base to their mission insertions. Be it helo or armor-truck, you were licensed and proficient. It gave you one of the most important jobs on base… Transporting the most dangerous men that KORTAC could throw at an enemy. And their massive, intimidating, hooded Colonel was included.

“I heard him chewing into a private’s ass for standing in front of his office door while he was sitting inside… with the door shut.” You overheard one of the mechanics chuckling from underneath of an LUV that had a leaking brake line.

A couple of the other guys joined in the conversation, ignoring your presence for all intensive purposes. You could only imagine that they were doing so simple because of how well attached you were to König in a more personal relationship. It had been nothing but professional and regulatory, but the sight of you lingering around the Colonel for more than absolutely necessary raised plenty of eyebrows around base. It just worked out that you had your entire top half of your body twisted in the engine bay of an MMPV that had taken enough IED damage to need a lot of maintenance and replacements. A pain in the ass you had been fussing over for hours just today; not even thinking about the fact that you’d been engrossed in the job for nearly a week.

“What’d you think Major?” One of the men calling out to you brought your attention away from a replacement coil-on-plug system sitting in a box, not touched yet on the wheel well to your right.

“About what?” You feign interest, not wanting to be caught listening in on conversation.

“The Colonel,” He clarified. “You seen whatever it is that has a stick up his ass sideways?”

You roll your eyes. “I don’t make a habit of checking the Colonel’s asshole…” If it’s not clear in your tone that you’re quite finished with the conversation, he doesn’t take notice.

“You’re pretty close with him aren’t you? Can’t you put in a good word for everyone on base… he’s practically frothing at the mouth!”

“I’m not a damn veterinarian either, Johns.” You warn, losing a bit of your patience.

It was one thing for König to swing his weight around like they were suggesting… it was another for him to have been struggling with something far more stressful than normal. Hell, it wouldn’t be the first time a soldier took out frustration of the job on his fellow officers. Especially if he got a reality check that displayed just how fragile the system really was in times of actual strain. Not that you’d even had the chance to see him since this “tirade” began, but you could only imagine that something more than the obvious was going on behind that bleach-stained hood over his head.

Girly gossip from the small group of mechanics went on long into the evening. Theories stretching from a mission gone bad to some kind of personal insult from a superior. While the solutions to his “problem” oftentimes resulted in some kind of reference to his sex life being dry, or outright nonexistent. It all sounded ridiculous to you between cranks of your socket wrench or the occasional shrill of an impact drill.

Thankfully you could shut out the sounds for the most part, but by the time you’d found a decent stopping place, the sky outside the hangar had blackened for the night and the temperature dropped far enough that your breath misted in front of your face. It was plenty late enough to head back to your quarters and get enough sleep before being right back under the hood at first light without feeling totally miserable. You didn’t expect to run into the Colonel on your way back to your room.

From the way he walked alone, you could tell that he was exhausted. The toes of his boots skimming the ground a little more than normal, as well as the slight hunch is his typically unforgiving posture. König looked like he’d had his ass kicked before being asked to dig his own grave and crawl out of it. Hearing everyone complaining about his sour mood made even more sense than before, and you couldn’t blame him for sharing around the misery. Besides, he was one of the highest-ranking people on base… it was his reluctant responsibility to deal with people almost every second of the day.

He deserved a damn break…

“Hey! Colonel!” You called out just loud enough to make him stop. Begin careful enough to not just call him by his first time in the case that someone was listening in. His head snapped in your direction and he stiffened for a moment before recognizing you in the dark shadows of the night and parking lot lamps.

“Major…”

Chills rose on your skin hearing his roughened voice rolling your title off his tongue. He wasn’t the slightest aggressive, and you couldn’t quite decide if he was just sparing you his anger, or just worn himself down too much to care. You jog the distance between you, feeling some tension in your lower back from being bent over that damn truck all day. Hopefully it wouldn’t make König’s notice… he was always very particular about injuries or overuse with his direct-connection officers.

“Wie war dein Tag?” His eyes crinkle at the corners like he’s smiling under his hood.

At least that’s what you imagine he’s doing.

“It was alright,” You nod giving him a smile. “Working on your MMPV. It’s in a hell of a state, and I’m not sure I can fix her.” You mutter a bit quieter, mind drifting to the vehicle and the limited amount of actual repairs you could do without needing some additional parts or funding allotted for the repairs. König seemed to pick up on it for a moment, but he also ended up having half of his mind somewhere else for the time being.

“I understand…” You couldn’t be sure if he meant simple exhaustion or a shared feeling of being much in the same state as your armored car. “I’m certain with your attention, it will do more than survive the blow.”

You giggle softly, resting your hands on your hips and digging your thumbs into your lower back as nonchalantly as possible to hide the way your digits pressed and rubbed at the immense pressure building right above your hipbones. Your shared mental and physical abuse wasn’t the slightest bit new. It always felt like when you got to see König for any respectable amount of time something was wrong with one or both of you. Normally, it made for plenty of good jokes and light teasing. A good one didn’t come to mind, and the Colonel didn’t appear in the mood for banter either. Really, his voice didn’t even sound like it wanted to be present. Fading in and out of gravelly and growled tones between German-accented syllables.

“Are you retiring for the night?” His blonde eyebrow raised up above the ripped eyehole of his mask. You spared a glance at the roof which shielded your quarters from the elements. Damn near two-hundred yards away, as well. You hated thinking about the walk.

“Yeah, I figure I should head that way. It’ll take me fifteen minutes to get there if I don’t drag myself across the concrete like I want to.”

König chuckles lowly, bringing another smile to your face. You hoped it was a decent relief from what was bothering him so badly to make base feel like a war zone. The thought of being his first sign of something positive in days only intensified your joy of the thought. He takes his own glance in the direction of your rooms and then looks back to you with something of an appraising edge. Even scanning the immediate area for good measure before visibly losing some of the façade hiding his exhaustion.

“Drill in the morning?” He asks quieter, nodding his head for you to follow alongside him.

“No. Just working on that damn truck…” He chuckles again, giving you a softer look out of the corner of his eye.

“You can always stay with me,” He says quite a bit more offhanded than the offer really was.

There was no fucking way regulation would stand for it even if it was nothing more than a platonic pajama party. The mere thought of “the Major” and “the Colonel” being spotted leaving the same bedroom after a night alone would have them both court-martialed and discharged. Yet König handed out the offer easier than he could hand out candy to small children on Halloween. It spun you for a loop. Resulting in your feet welding themselves to the ground and your eyes widening as you turn to look up at him in question as to if you’d actually heard him correctly.

“Stay with you… stay… like, overnight?” The sentence alone felt so forbidden yet enticing in your mouth. König shrugs. A little more of his tension developing in his shoulders as you visibly see himself second-guessing such an intimate thing quite randomly.

“It was just an offer, Major.” He clarifies. “My quarters are much closer to your garage… and I’ve got everything you might need for one night away from your own bed.” He added with a soothing kind of tone.

But it left you just as anticipatory. He wasn’t this forward. At least, not in such a personal way. He didn’t phrase things this… domestic, directly and he sure as hell hadn’t ever thought to try it on you above all others. There was something more to this, and it wasn’t just due to the distance to your own quarters compared to his. A benefit for him lingered somewhere just below the surface of truth he’d been willing to speak about. Naturally, you weren’t about to take the first step in pushing him. So instead, you took the choice of playing the long game and allowing him to take the lead.

He is your superior officer, after all.

“You know… I might just take you up on those amenities, Colonel.”

His eyes crinkle again, giving you a second opportunity to wonder what his pretty mouth must look like when he smiles.

“If you stay, my rank stays outside. I don’t prefer answering to a title in my own home.” His low voice rumbles with an affectionate tone. One that makes you nod your head automatically, like he’d whispered some spell over you.

“Of course, sir.”

His quarters weren’t what you expected.

Instead of the typical grey walls and standard furniture, he’d went about the process of either collecting some more personal things or brought them from wherever he’d lived before now. The bed was actually massive, swallowing your position that a king size bed was more than large enough. The four posts around it had been stained a dark, ash kind of color over heavily grained wood. A desk sat over against the wall underneath of the one window in the room and while it was stained the same color, carved designs on the drawers and feet were different from the bed frame style. The walls were void of any pictures or art, bit there was enough personal touches scattered around that it pieced together a bit more of the mystery behind the Colonel’s personal life.

“It’s really nice,” Your compliment falls into the room softly, almost like you’re attempting to keep the atmosphere untouched by your presence. “Where’d you get all of your things from?” It wasn’t until after asking that you realized it might be too personal of a question considering his attitude.

He looked around and shrugged. “Antique stores,” He ran a gloved hand over the top of a nightstand next to him. “I liked the idea of fixing things… and I had the knowledge of how to do it.” Your insides twisted in interest at the idea of König being well-versed in woodworking. Images of the massive man knelt down with sandpaper and reaching the smallest nooks in the carved wood. Meticulous. Unwilling to take a shortcut… it made more sense the longer you thought about it. He walked up behind you and rested his hands on your shoulders gently, letting out a deep breath.

“I didn’t… invite you here just for convenience.” He admitted a bit shyly, fingers twitching to squeeze your shoulders just a little harder.

Ah, there it is…

“What did you let me in for?” You reply, turning to look over your shoulder and up at him with a friendly little smile. “Because I know it wasn’t for chocolates on the pillows and breakfast in bed when I wake up.”

Those big, dark, eyes glittered a little. Framing just a small bit of humor in an otherwise dark, painted and highly guarded expression in a well-defended man. It was one of the things that had drawn you to him in the first place. Hs ability to find some softness in an otherwise harsh and cruel world of voluntary service to country. A damn shame he’d found this world instead of another one that would be more welcoming… less bloody… but then again. You’d also found this world too, even if it was your pathway to simple drive into warzones instead of running into them with a rifle and a desire to be the last man standing.

“I need some… help.” He could see the question and concern on your face, but instead of even uttering a single word, he just moves away from you and sits down on the edge of his bed. His eyes polarize away from you and down to the gloves that he began struggling to get off with slightly trembling hands.

You debated. Tossing around so many ideas in your head that you began dropping them. Juggling too many problems and possible solutions all at once. Hoping that he would speak up, or give you some sort of help. König wasn’t the best talker. Never had been really, but often he’d give away something that let you in on the issues in his mind. He was a stone wall tonight. Sitting like a marble statue with nothing more than softened eyes looking away from you with a palpable desire for help; yet no ability within himself to say how. The first thing you didn’t like was that he still had on all of that gear. Between the flak jacket with all of his spare mags, the helmet, steel-toed boots, multiple holsters and a slew of other things, there was far too much on him for you to get close enough to finding a crack in that armor.

“Can I?” Stepping closer, and pointing towards his helmet you ask gently, testing his comfort. He just nods, not even willing to look up at you to check what you were even wanting to do.

You unbuckle it carefully, not wanting to tug on his hood and sit it down next to him on the bed. But right as you sit it down, you see him reach up and tug the material off to drop it down inside the helmet. His blonde hair is a mess. A bit sweaty and matted down from a days work, it falls over his forehead and down to his nose. It softens the stark color of black face paint smeared over the whole top half of his face. The process of breaking down the soldier piece-by-piece takes less than five minutes, and that even included a small fight over whether or not you should be allowed to take off his boots due to how “demeaning” he felt it would look to have you kneel down in front of him like that. Thoughtful as you found the idea, you still pointed out he was your superior officer and it only made sense that you take care of the “unimportant” tasks for him. What you really didn’t know what that he watched you unlace his boots with every intention of letting you know that it felt even more intimate than letting you be one of the few people who could see his face in typical circumstances.

“That’s better… right?” You murmur, running your fingers through his hair to try and unstick the hair stuck together with sweat.

He nods. “Ja, viel besser.”

You smile at his German, sitting down next to him close enough that your thigh presses against his and your shoulder rests tightly next to him. “How about you take shower? I think washing off the day might help out a bit.”

König shakes his head no and quickly decides on a better idea. One that ends up with you laying flat on your back and a 6’10 man laying with his head on your stomach and his body nestled between your legs. His arms stay bent by his sides, resting weight on his elbows to resist laying his entire weight on you but his hands palm both sides of your ribs intentionally. His fingertips pressing between the dips of your ribs and the warm exhale of his breaths fanning against your stomach. It feels uncommonly desperate. Sensing the undeniable behavior of a man needing touch. Closeness from another human instead of the victory of a battle alone, or the knowledge that he’d lived another day without dying a horrible death. That thought alone has you wrapping your arms around his head and holding him tightly. Cradling him as well as you can to make him feel safe and protected even though his feet are hanging off the bed. Your heart pinches in regret that you’d not thought of coming to see him sooner. At least defending him in front of the others who’d been hellbent on making him out to be an asshole for having such a rough week.

Fuck.

He’d almost groveled like a puppy on its belly for you to touch him.

“You smell like cinnamon,” He mutters with his mouth slurred in the extra fabric of your shirt. “I like that… reminds me of my mother’s cinnamon rolls.” The memory is audible; softening his words and making that German accent thicker with exhaustion and comfort of being wrapped up in your arms.

You giggle very softly, pushing his hair off his face. “I’m surprised I don’t smell like grease.”

“Nein… du riechst wie zu hause.” His reply is gravelly and warm.

You close your eyes and settle back against the bed. “You know I don’t know German well enough to understand that…” He laughed softly, squeezing your sides with his massive hands.

“Do you think I’m not aware?” A laugh escaped you and as a retaliation you tapped the top of his head in a small, soft, shun. “I like saying things to you in German… it makes saying the truth easier sometimes.”

When his hands slid further under your body to fully encompass your waist, he buried his nose into your stomach and took a deep, relaxed breath. Nuzzling tighter into you and rubbing his face into your shirt like he was attempting to rub his scent and face paint off on your shirt. Neither option sounded the least bit bad. Wishing that he would fully immerse himself in you if it would make him feel better. Ease that misery festering in the back of his mind. Beginning to settle in, you started running your fingertips up and down his back. Smoothing out the wrinkles in his shirt as you went, and tracing out the defined lines on his shoulder blades and rippled lats stretching over his ribs. Each pass either smoothing the pads of your fingertips, or giving him a slight scratch with blunted nails. Earning some German mutters and contented grumbles vibrating against your stomach.

“Du kilngst… wie ein… bär.” Your German feels quite juvenile, but König’s short huff of amusement gives you enough satisfaction that the lighthearted jab had reached him. He nips at your hip with his teeth, making you jump in surprise and giggle nervously.

“Isn’t there a saying… ‘don’t poke the bear?’.”

“I thought you were a King, not a bear?”

He shakes his head, a little slow on a comeback. “Either way, I’ll prove my dominance.”

You chuckle softly. “Don’t bother, I’m more than content to stay just like this.” You hum, returning to the smooth up and down movement of your hands on his wide expanse of a back.

“I’m happy to stay like this as well,” He mutters, stretching out a bit more. “However, I don’t like where you are.” Suddenly a bit nervous that you’d not been playing this situation properly, you freeze for a moment.

“I can move if you’d like?”

Suddenly a bit nervous that you’d not been playing this situation properly. He shifts a bit, putting more weight back onto his knees with a small grunt before snatching you up far enough to roll you onto your side and settle himself behind you as if you weren’t any bigger than a teddy bear meant for pure comfort and warmth. A muscled and tattooed arm vicegrips your chest and the other arm slides under your head to prop up your head. Instantly turning the role of comfort you’d been happy to provide into a much different situation.

“Can’t do much laying like this.” You protest a bit, attempting to turn over to face him so you can at least return to touching him.

“No, you fit right… shaped to me.” He slurs; tightened his grip and shook his head, resting his nose right in the crook of your neck. One hand slides under your shirt and reaches up far enough to rest his forearm against your chest and make a half-collar around your neck with his hand. He feels hot to the touch, and while you would’ve shied away from any other man touching you in such a way, König doing it felt right. As if there was something connecting you to him other than a simple recognition of the desire for a human connection that wasn’t painful. A different kind of dominance, creating a safe place for himself, but also for you in the way the curve of his hand fit right at the base of your throat.

“Touching you like this… it makes me feel more powerful than any firefight I’ve won.” He states, further resting his upper body against your back. “Like all of the mistakes i’ve made were worth making; just so I could have a moment to feel invincible laying in my own bed.”

It’s deep. Touching. Reaching right down into the bottom of your soul and wrenching it with an iron-grip so warm that you feel a heat rise in your throat.

“That sounds like something you should tell a woman you love, not just me.” You whisper, sliding your own hand under your shirt to hold his hand.

As if he could, he attempts to pull you tighter against him.

“I just did.”

reblogs & comments are appreciated <3

#könig #könig x reader #kortac #konig mw2 #konig cod #anon ask #anon answered #anon <3 #velvetures #velvetures writes #anon request

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jnginlov · 9 months

Text

line a

when did you start to have feelings for the cute stranger on your morning commute and how are you going to be able to tell him?

⇀ pairing yunho x reader

⇀ genre fluff, angst, strangers 2 lovers

⇀ style one-shot

⇀ word count 4k

⇀ warnings food, yunho cries

⇀ reactions from the gc “Okay but why do I have tears in my eyes” “I feel all warm and toasty inside” “I had a lovely time”

note sorry if you hate brown sugar oatmilk lattes, cinnamon sugar bagels, pastries in general, or sushi

getting a new position in your company meant better pay, a new office, and different work hours. you were happy for the shift in your routine, feeling like you were starting to become a part of some machine, but you were honestly happier for the shift in your commute time.

your old hours always had you riding the train at the busiest times, shoved into a car with a collection of other desk workers like a bunch of sardines, and over the years you’d grown used to not being able to find a seat or even have any form of personal space. you’d always accepted it as a necessary evil that just accompanied getting to work at a prestigious corporation in the city but now, climbing into a train car that was next to empty, you were regretting ever settling for less.

you’d quickly grown into a routine with these new hours, grabbing an iced brown sugar oatmilk latte from the cafe on the corner of the station entrance before your train, spending the 30-ish minute ride sipping and reading a few pages from the book you’d purchased most recently, and then using the extra time before work started to grab a cinnamon sugar bagel from the bakery a block away from the company, unless the pastry of the day was particularly appealing in which case you’d grab two of those.

of the people who took the train at the same time as you, there were always a few regulars mixed in with the random passengers. the old lady, you’d lovingly nicknamed mrs. blue, was an every day passenger. she’d already be on the train when you would board, sat in the farthest corner of the car, with a collection of different knit items on her lap, some incomplete and often actively being worked on during the ride. she wore a different blue shirt every day, and although you were months into this new routine she hadn’t repeated any yet. she would get off exactly three stops before you, taking her time to gather her knits as the doors opened and although you worried that one day the doors would close before she made it onto the platform she hadn’t missed her stop yet.

probably the most recent regular you noticed was someone you’d called the flash to your roommate and the name just stuck. he would board one stop after yours, always arriving at the platform at the same time as the train. he’d take about a minute to look at all the free seats on the train but after what seemed like a heavy debate with himself, one where he would gesture subtly with his hands and mutter quietly under his breath, he would take the same seat he’d taken yesterday, and the day before, and every day as long as you’d been riding this line. he would get off a stop before your own and just as with his arrival, his form would disappear from the platform in tandem with the train’s departure.

of course the most interesting of all the passengers, and the first regular you’d noticed, was a man that both boarded and exited the train at the same stops as you. he was tall, you’d estimate around six feet, and although he’d seemed intimidating as you’d stood on the departure platform for the first time since your change in work hours, he sent you a smile that simply melted away all of your worries when he’d caught your eyes flickering toward him cautiously.

he was always waiting at the platform before you, no matter how early you were to the station, and he always wore one wireless earbud. if it was in the right ear he was obviously on a call, talking and laughing with someone he’d called mingi. if it was in the left ear he was silent and you assumed he was just listening to something, likely music or an audiobook. however, no matter which ear was occupied he would always greet you with a warm smile and a slight nod when you would saddle up next to him on the platform.

you’d tried to parse his reasons for taking the train so often and so regularly but it was next to impossible to be sure when he was always dressed so casually and never carried the same items. some days he’d be weighed down by a backpack that looked like it was holding several concrete bricks while other days he’d have nothing but his phone in his hand. every few days he’d have a different bag of takeout food, though the only repeat container was from a thai place you’d googled one day after noticing him carrying a bag with the same logo for the fourth time.

when you both would leave the train after arriving at your stop, you would cross paths, each of you having exited the door of the car opposite to the direction you would head to leave the platform. at first he would just give you another smile and nod but about a month into this routine he’d escalated to telling you to “have a good day” to which you’d return a quick “you too”.

the train on the way home from work held a different set of regulars, a slightly younger and more rowdy collection, but after a couple months into this new pattern you would find your mind wandering away from the words on the page in front of you to the man from your morning ride.

he was certainly attractive, a sharp jaw that complimented sculpted cheeks, a nose that perfectly defined his side profile, and eyes that would crinkle up whenever he would laugh or smile. speaking of his laugh, you’d noticed he had a habit of tilting his head back when he would find something particularly amusing, a tendency that had caused him to bump his head against the wall of the train car behind him several times. each time this accident had occurred, you would dip your own head, lips pressed together in an attempt to suppress the enamored giggles that would bubble into your throat. after you managed to calm yourself, you’d take a peek in the man’s direction to find a light blush dusted over the apples of his cheeks and along the tops of his ears, eyes flicking toward you before his ears would transition to an even darker shade of red and he would hide his own shy giggles behind his hand, his gaze shifting to the train floor.

your routine became familiar after a few months, comfortable even. it gave you a sense of security, knowing that he’ll always be there.

of course that means that the one day you arrive at the station and he’s not stood in his usual spot on the platform you can almost feel the universe poking a hole through your bubble. it lets in a little bit of something that anyone else might recognize as disappointment, but to you it feels heavier. it’s painted with a hint of worry, and you itch to check the time on your phone every few seconds just to triple and quadruple check that you’re not running behind. you try to ignore the way his absence has thrown you off but as you take a sip of your latte it almost feels like even your drink tastes different.

you board the train when it arrives as you would every other time but even mrs. blue seems to notice the lack of your usual companion, pausing a moment in the middle of a stitch with yarn tangled between her fingers, before she returns to her own routine. similarly, the flash takes twice as long to choose his usual seat, eyes lingering on where the man would usually have been sitting before he moves about his day as normal.

your book seems even less interesting today, the story dragging on as the author tries to build suspense that you just can’t seem to bring yourself to focus on. instead, you wonder if he’s okay, you hope he is, dwelling on all of the possible reasons he could have missed the train, because that’s what you assume he did. he must have missed it, his alarm this morning not waking him or construction making him change his usual path to the station. of all the possibilities for his absence, you in no way consider the reality that approaches as you hop off at your usual stop.

he makes his way through the door he would normally exit, boarding the car instead, with a woman following close on his heels. their hands are connected, fingers intertwined, as he pulls her toward his usual seat on the train and he wears the same light blush as when he’d hit his head on the wall. he looks happy and you want to breathe a sigh of relief that he’s okay, but your body refuses to relax at the sight, your stomach turning and heart clenching as you see her beam up at him.

neither of them take any notice of you, too enraptured in the little bubble surrounding them as you make your way toward the rest of your day. something in the back of your mind tells you that you’re not going to have a very good one.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

your day isn’t too extraordinary, the usual tasks and duties taking up your work time, but every so often your mind will drift, as it usually does, to your train companion. unfortunately, instead of the standard admirations of the way he’d worn his hair that day or the opinions on the conversation that you’d parsed from hearing just his half of the phone call, your thoughts seem to be stuck on the way her hand had been firmly captured in his own and the way his eyes had lit up when the woman on his arm had laughed.

as the weeks go on, and his appearances on the train become more infrequent and completely changed by the girl that seems to be his world, you start to consider that this may be your new normal. maybe a regular has shifted into the crowd.

you feel something inside yourself shift in response to this new situation and you try not to harp on it. however, how are you supposed to reconcile something that you weren’t even aware had been happening. when had the boy stood on the platform turned into a crush?

it felt childish to admit, falling for a relative stranger, but it felt even more foolish to realize that she must have been his reason for all those months. that girl was why he took the train, why he was always punctual and bright. maybe you’d purposely ignored the signs, the occasional bouquet and the mention of a jiyoung when on a call, or maybe you’d been too caught up in your own interest, in your own feelings, to realize that he was only a stranger. you didn’t even know his name.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

you’re not even sure how long it had been since you’d seen him on the platform as you approached, your latte in your hand and steps stuttering as you realized that he was there. he looked nice today, more dressed up than you think you'd ever seen him. black tie neat and blazer crisp as he shifted from foot to foot almost nervously. it was hard not to notice the bouquet in his arms, a collection of several different pink flowers wrapped neatly in brown paper, and the container of food from that thai place. you could reason to guess that it was likely her favorite, the portions he’d carried had always been suspiciously small for someone of his stature but you’d never seen a need to analyze that before.

aside from the new surprise that just is seeing him on this platform and taking this train, you’re shocked to find that you can’t see an earbud in his left ear but he also doesn’t appear to be in conversation with anyone. he’s not on the phone, he’s not even reaching into his pocket for his headphones, he’s staring straight ahead at the empty tracks, almost willing the train to arrive faster.

as you approach your usual spot on the platform his eyes flick over to you, sensing movement in his peripheral. you try not to make eye contact, pulling your phone out of your pocket to appear busy.

“hi.”

of all the greetings you’ve ever shared, verbal communication was new. you weren’t anticipating any sort of recognition, as you’d stood further away from him purposely, partly in an effort to avoid any sort of interaction with him.

you didn’t respond aloud, your gaze briefly locking with his as you nod slightly before looking back to the screen of your phone.

he doesn’t seem deterred by your lack of proper response, though, as he takes a step in your direction.

“do you think this is too cheesy?”

his voice is much higher than you’ve heard it previously, when he’s talking with mingi or sending you off to have a good day, and you can hear a nervous shake in the tone.

you venture to glance back up at him, the bouquet in his hands now turned out to you so that you can see the writing on the wrapping paper.

will you be my girlfriend?

the lump that forms in your throat is involuntary and you try to swallow it away as you blink at him.

“it’s cute,” you manage after a moment, trying to avoid further discussion as you quickly return to your phone. maybe you could fish out your own headphones from the depths of your bag.

“i got her favorite too,” he explains with a lift of the takeout container, completely oblivious to the hint that you aren’t in the mood to converse. “i never really liked thai but i don’t mind.”

you bite your tongue to keep from saying anything, urging your brain to ignore the curiosity of what he would prefer instead.

you’re sure that you’ve never been more thankful for the punctuality of the train as it comes quickly into view in the next moment, screeching to a stop in front of you both and cutting off the conversation.

you notice that he makes his way to his usual spot, mrs. blue peeking at him from the corner of her eye before she returns to her latest project.

instead of your usual place, one that wasn’t directly across from him but still too close for whatever your heart was doing right now, you decide to take a different spot, one where you can convincingly be enraptured in the pages of your book while your mind takes in none of the words, too focused on the latest development with your train companion.

you try to think about anything other than the boy with the bouquet but it feels like the length of the ride that you’ve taken for months has suddenly doubled. you’re not sure the doors have ever stayed open this long at each stop, yet each platform is more unusually barren than the last, leaving the car with just the usuals occupying their spots.

at your stop, only you and him are left and you realize that in sitting further away from him you’d managed to sit closer to the door that he would normally exit, both of you almost colliding as you try to fit through the doorway and step out onto the platform.

“have a good day,” he says, and it’s not only different because it’s the first time you’d heard the phrase from him in so long but because his voice is still high and still shaky.

you take a shallow breath, trying to calm the prickling sensation that washes over your skin, and you reply, “good luck.”

you don’t stay to see his reaction, dipping your head and feet leading you in your usual direction. you don’t even realize you were practically jogging until you make it to the bakery almost 10 minutes before you normally would.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

half of your day is spent wondering how it all went for him, your regular duties not nearly as interesting as the turmoil in your heart.

your brain tells you that she obviously said yes, simply based on the brief moments you’d seen of them together, and your heart reasons that you want her to say yes, the smile that she’d put on his face when they were together absolutely mesmerizing, but somewhere deep in the pit of your stomach you wish for her to say no. you try to suppress the thought, reasoning that it wouldn’t mean you suddenly had a chance, but the jealousy only continued to fester until you realize that you’d been typing out your internal argument instead of the report you were tasked to start.

you tussle with your feelings for the rest of the day, even as you pack up and make your way to the station in order to head back home for the night. you’re almost too caught up in your head to notice a familiar bouquet in the hands of an even more familiar stranger sat on the bench just off the platform.

you pause when you first notice him, his gaze set firmly on the slightly wilted flowers, eyebrows furrowed in what appears to be a mix of thought and anger, and you try to decide what to do. you could simply walk past and pretend that you hadn’t noticed him, but as you consider that a guilt starts to replace the jealous feeling that had started to manifest earlier in the day. a voice in the back of your mind tells you that you’re responsible, you’d secretly wished for his rejection hadn’t you, but you quiet that voice as you take a deep breath and approach him.

“hi,” you chirp once you’re at the end of the bench and you realize that you don’t know what else to say. you didn’t have any kind of plan.

he looks up at you, eyes wide and a little pathetic to complement the subtle downturn of his lips. you try not to react when he notices it’s you and his expression lifts slightly before dropping back down.

“hi,” he practically whispers, the word heavy and soft as it leaves his lips.

“this seat taken?” you resist the urge to drop your face into your palm as your mouth moves before you can stop it but if he finds the phrase at all awkward he doesn’t comment, only gesturing to the empty space with his hand as a sort of invitation.

you move onto the bench, angling your body to face him and you can’t tell if you imagine him shift to match you or if he’d always been sat on an angle as his gaze moves back to the flowers.

“she said no,” he supplies with a shake of the bouquet and a few petals fall out, one landing in his lap while the rest float to the ground.

you bite your lip as your hand reaches out reflexively but you quickly pull it back in before you can pick the petal from his thigh.

“did she say why?” you ignore the thought that you may be prying, telling yourself that he’d offered the information first.

he lets out a single humorless chuckle as his eyes close. when he opens them he looks up at you once more, gaze and voice noticeably watery as he replies, “she never wanted something serious. she thought it was just always going to be casual.”

a tear makes its way past his waterline and he’s quick to wipe it away with the back of his hand before he drops his gaze to his lap, noticing the petal there and brushing it off.

you try to think of anything else to do aside from just sitting here and watching him cry when you realize that he no longer has the bag of takeout and are reminded of the question you wanted to ask him earlier in the day.

“what’s your favorite?” you ask, cringing slightly for not being clear when he looks up at you with a confused expression.

“uh, food,” you elaborate and he tilts his head slightly as though he’s never heard the question before.

he takes a moment to think, eyes fluttering around the both of you, before he says, “i guess japanese.”

you nod slowly, pursing your lips as it’s now your turn to think.

“great,” you say after a moment, rising from the bench after you check the time, “because i love sushi.”

he quirks his head at you again, this time his face scrunches up in confusion, as he watches you stand and take the bouquet from his hands. he doesn’t bother to try getting it back as you walk toward the edge of the platform, the train coming into view only a moment later.

when you notice that he hasn’t followed you, you look back at him over your shoulder.

“you’re gonna miss your train,” you call to him and he hesitantly follows as you board.

the car is empty today and you breathe a gentle sigh of relief as you anticipate your plan.

only a few seconds after you’ve taken your seat, your train companion steps into the car, still observing you with confusion, although you see a hint of amusement start to take over his features as you gesture to his usual seat.

he says nothing as he sits down, eyes fixed on you to the point that he almost misses his chair, sliding down into the seat with a soft thump.

“if you keep staring at me you’re going to make this immensely harder for me,” you say loud enough for him to hear as you look down at the bouquet in your hands. you take the edge of the brown wrapping paper into your hand, the material considerably more wrinkled than when you’d seen it earlier that day, and start to tear. luckily the writing is on the outer layer and so you can tear it off without causing the arrangement to change.

you can’t see his face but you can imagine the tilt of his head as you work to remove the phrase from the flowers, crumbling up the paper and tossing it into your bag.

as the train comes to the first stop you peek onto the platform and silently thank the universe for urging those taking the train from this station to climb into the other cars, leaving only you and your stranger sat in the plastic seats of the familiar car.

before the train can start to move again you stand, clearing your throat, and you notice him shift slightly as though preparing to get up before you take a few steps and close the distance between you.

you let out a breath as you take the seat next to him, eyes intently connected with his own, before holding the bouquet in front of him.

“hi, i’m y/n and i’ve seen you on the train before,” you start, his eyes eager and round as though trying to convey that he’s listening. “i think you’re really cute and i’d appreciate the chance to take you to din-“ you cut yourself off as you pull out your phone to check the time and you swear the corners of his lips pull up in amusement. “midnight snack,” you conclude, putting your phone away as you turn back to him.

he doesn’t say anything for a moment, eyes just looking into yours as his lips slowly part to reveal a toothy smile.

“preferably japanese,” you add to break the silence, the words barely audible.

without breaking eye contact he takes the bouquet from your hand, his fingers brushing against your own and causing a heat to climb the back of your neck.

“hi,” he starts, placing the bouquet onto the seat on the other side of him, “i’m yunho and i’ve seen you on the train before. i think you’re very cute and i’d be happy to get a midnight snack with you.”

you try to keep the blush from spreading to your cheeks but you give up as you notice yunho’s own ears and face growing pink.

“i just have one condition,” he adds and you cock your head in confusion.

“the snack has to be japanese.”

↼ ateez masterlist

note idk why but i just apparently feel the need to romanticize public transit AGAIN

let me know what you thought?

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topmalereaderblog · 9 months

Text

You deserve better // Miguel O'Hara 🌸🚨⚠️

Theme(s): Fluff / Angst / Mature

Warning(s): Infidelity, abuse, realization, jealous Miguel, happy ending.

Summary: Miguel hates it when people have everything and are still ungrateful for what they have that person being his co-worker, your husband.

Parts: Part 2 / Part 3

Words: 1.6k

Miguel hated when people were ungrateful it got him upset, and today, he was upset at his co-worker, your husband. You and Miguel met at an Alchemax event. You were alone but held confidence, and when he got to know you, he was surprised, to say the least.

How did someone like your husband end up with some like yourself? You were both complete opposites. You looked well built, confident, a little intimidating, sure but kind no the less. As for your husband, well, he was a chum he was well built like yourself, but his attitude was distasteful, just like a lot of the other jerks that worked here, and as you both talked through the event he got to learn more about you.

(Flashback)

"Can I ask a question?" Miguel said hesitantly.

"Sure," you smiled at him.

"How did you and C/W/N meet? I mean, you don't have to tell me. I'm just curious."

"No, it's fine. we went to the same college together, and I know it might sound touché but we pledged the same frat house."

"Mm, sorry for asking. It's just that you're both so-."

"Different," you finished for him "Yeah he wasn't always like this. We have our good days and bad days like any other couple he's a good guy to me for the most part of it. I guess I just need to try harder," you said, turning to look at your husband he was chatting with a woman.

Miguel could only remember your face that day. You look a little sad, and the more he got to see the way your husband treated you, the more it made him mad for you. You were a catch, at least that's what Miguel thought you often brought your husband lunch, which he usually gave away or through it out in the garbage.

According to Miguel, he felt lucky to try your food after his co-worker offered him the lunch you made for him and fuck was it good.

"Miguel, do you want it? I was gonna through it out but might as well ask."

He started at the lunch box in front of him, "Sure."

"Cool, just give me the box afterward. My husband tends to over due it on lunches." He said, walking away.

When Miguel opened the box, he was impressed the food smelled good, and there was clearly a lot of dedication and love put into it. He picked up the note that was on top of one of the tupperware.

*Love you so much C/W/N I have a late shift today at the station, so I might take a while to get home ill see you later maybe if your up to it we can go to the gym when I return or watch something anyways love you have a good day at work - ❤️❤️❤️ *

Miguel placed the small note to the side, re-reading it periodically while he finished the lunch you prepared.

"Here it was amazing." Miguel said, handing the lunch box back.

"Oh, that's good."

"He also left you this," he said, grabbing the note from his pocket.

"Can you through it for me? I have somewhere to be right now," he said, walking away with the lunch box in hand.

He didn't through it he kept it in a small drawer even though it wasn't for him. The note was sweet he often day dreamed of you bringing him lunch instead of C/W/N. Wait, day dreamed what was he thinking you were a married man and taken he can't be think of you this way but he was as the day went by he often got to eat your prepared lunches keeping the notes you left inside.

The part that made him get annoyed with your husband was when he was bragging about you to his colleagues.

"So wait, he just does whatever you want?"

"Meh, sometimes if I ask for something like massages, he does it, but things like sex are rarer. He is not bad, both top and bottom, but doesn't mean I can't have some side action, " your husband said while the other laughed.

"He's such a stupid guy," one of the colleagues said while they continued to laugh.

Miguel only reacted when he felt the ink in his pen start to spread in his hand, cleaning himself up before it tried.

One day, Miguel bumped into you in the grocery story, and gosh, you looked amazing. You were wearing your cop uniform as you recognized him.

"Hey Miguel, right?" you said, extending your hand out to him.

"Yeah, nice to see you again. How are you?"

"I'm good for the most part. I just got out of a shift, so I'm free for today. I was gonna spend time with C/W/N, but he went out with a friend, but anyways, what about you."

"I've been here and there, nothing much really."

"Mm I- I was gonna get ice cream your welcome to join me if you want."

"Sure, but I'll probably have to leave. I've been really tired this past week." He said walk with you to the cash register bags in hand.

"That's fine. Everyone needs a break sometimes. You look tense. Maybe you should go to a chiropractor sometime it could help."

"Never thought about it."

"Come to my place. I'll give you a massage."

"I wouldn't want to intrude. You're probably gonna be busy later."

"No, I insist I'm basically free this weekend, and C/W/N is gone to. It'll be nice to have a friend around, " you said, smiling at him.

"Okay," he signed out. "At what time I don't mind going after we get ice cream, but I'll need to leave my bags at my house."

"That's fine, how about 6 pm."

"Sounds good," he said as you parted away to get to your cars.

After that day you and miguel became good friends often going to the gym togther since your partner didn't want to go but not only that, somewhere within Miguel, jealousy sprouted, he was jealous of what his co-worker had.

Your place was homey and comfy after the massage you made dinner, and it was amazing, but he also felt pain knowing he didn't have this someone who would treat him like this someone to look forward to. You were amazing, and you deserved better.

It took a couple of months, but one day, you invited Miguel over he was oblivious to what he was gonna walk into as he made his way over to your door and knocked. No answer.

He thought you forgot and started walking away till he heard something fall quickly going back to the door and opening it with force he walked in on you on the floor with blood on seeping from your head as your husband had a belt he landed a whip but before he could do it again Miguel stopped him.

"Calm down," he said, raistraining your husband.

"What the fuck are you doing in my house." He said struggling to get out. Miguel let him go and went to aid you. we have to get him to a hospital, and he'll need stitches.

"Do whatever you want." Your husband said, leaving.

Miguel visited often in the hospital his co-working was bo where to be seen for the past couple of days, and a police report was made for what he did to you.

"Hey," Miguel said, entering your room.

"Hi," you replied. "How has work been?" you asked.

"Good, nothing exciting," he said, taking a seat.

"I caught him," you said, looking forward while your head rested. "He was cheating on me. I started the divorce process. it's my fault." You said he could hear the quiver in your voice and the way your eyes filled with tears.

"It wasn't your fault" Miguel didn't know what to say he didn't know what to do either right now he just felt sympathy for you how a big strong and confident guy like you looks so valuable.

"Wasn't it if I wasn't a bad husband if I was good enough, maybe-"

"You aren't." You were cut off by Miguel. "M/N, I know we only know each other for about what half a year, and in that time, you were the most caring husband I've ever met hell alot of the other spouses don't do what you do." He said, placing his hand on your thigh.

"I know this is a bad moment, but if I'm being honest, I- I was jealous of C/W/N after the event I paid more attention to him, and you. He gave me your lunches. I was gonna tell you about it but I didn't know how. I would read the notes you left him they were cute and sweet." He said, looking down.

You stared at him, and you didn't know what to say.

He took a deep breath. "What I'm trying to say is you deserve better, and I want to be the one to prove to you that I know it too soon." He said getting up.

"All I ask is that when you're ready, give me a chance." He said, walking away with his head down.

"Stay," you said, stopping him from leaving. "It gets lonely here without someone."

"Are you sure I would want to intrude."

"It's nice to have a friend around," you said, scooting over a bit and patting the spot next to you in bed.

This is it. Miguel smiled at you as he walked over and got in bed . He tucked his head under your chin and rested.

"You know you were basically my personal Spiderman," you said, looking down at him.

"Maybe I am," he said, staring at you.

"Well, in that case, you need to wear the suit more often," you said, laughing to yourself.

"Miguel, I'll give you a chance, but I want to move slowly very slowly."

"I'll wait for along as it takes." And with that, you both feel asleep holding each other close, Miguel resting his head on your pecs.

#male reader #male reader insert #male reader fanfic #male reader smut #x male reader #x male reader smut #top male reader #dom male reader #miguel o'hara x male reader #miguel o'hara x top male reader #miguel o'hara x dom male reader #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara fluff #miguel o'hara fanfiction

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ivorryskies · 5 months

Note

hi hi! :3 idk if you take chuu requests but id really like if you could do like a relationship reveal where the ada find out that reader is dating chuuya?? :3 much love <3

ˏˋ��•*⁀➷summary: they weren't supposed to know! but now that they do how do you make it less awkward.

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷pairings: chuuya x fem!ada reader

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷warnings: none!

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷Felix's note: yes! ofcourse! i write about chuu! sorry i took too long! <3 have a great day/night! hope you like it! heart divider by: @cafekitsune <3

the taste of wine lingered on your tongue as the gravity manipulator was holding you on his lap. His tongue roaming your mouth, the kiss never seemed to stop. You were making out since a few minutes and you pulled away to breathe.

"missed ya" he said putting his head on your shoulder.

"I missed you too, but i have to go"

You were in his tinted car in the backseat with him .This wasn't the first time you two met like this. You two had kept this relationship a secret for a while now. You were out to buy some stuff for the agency when chuuyas car stopped by and he pulled you in. Thankfully no one thought you were getting kidnapped this road was always silent, no one really passed here at 8 in the morning.

You two talked for a bit before you opened the car door to leave, when all of a sudden you heard someone whisper. "gotcha"

You yelped in surprise to see your co-worker Dazai standing behind you. "DAZAI?!" you heard chuuya scream as he got out of the car ready to launch at him.

"i see the chuu chuu here has got himself a girl, took you long enough" he smirked.

Chuuya grabbed his collar and asked harshly "you've been stalking us haven't you sly bastard"

You didn't even bother hearing their little bickering because what really took over your thoughts was the sight of the whole agency standing before you disappointed. You suddenly asked "does...everyone know?"

the pair stopped arguing and Dazai said "Ranpo had already figured it out, after i had my suspicions he agreed, i haven't told anybody but ranpo probably has" he said in an oddly cheery tone. Chuuya pushed Dazai away and put his hands on your shoulder "it's-kay doll, don't worry, it'll be okay". You nodded and smiled.

⋇⊶⊰❣⊱⊷⋇

You and Dazai walked back to the agency. You were mostly the one talking asking questions and everything. As you came to the door of the agency you stopped in your tracks when you heard

"THEY'RE GOING TO REGRET THIS" as a fuming Kunnikida rushed out as if to tackle you. "DO YOU REALIZE THE SEVERITY OF YOUR ACTIONS?!" you let out an awkward chuckle and slid past him. Ranpo pointed at you "nothing can hide from the greatest detective!" as he shoved a lollipop in his mouth. You are so screwed. Kunnikida angrily wrote something as Dazai only fueled this anger making his pen snap.

Yosano on the other hand was not fazed. Like seriously at all. She came over to you and started asking questions about your relationship. "If he ever lets his anger get the best of him i wont hesitate to make him my next patient" she cracked her knuckles. "haHA! I can assure you um everything will be fine" you said awkwardly and held her hands down. Naomi and Tanizaki were doing..there own thing. Kenji was actually very happy and said "that mister was very nice! i would like to have lunch with him!" mind you they did. Atsushi on the other hand didn't know how to feel about it. He didn't have an opinion on it but also was a little intimidated by Chuuya, He congratulated you nonetheless.

Everything was going...well? no one really cared except for Kunnikida who keeps scolding you and literally has smoke coming out of his ears.

"i need to meet him" he says angrily.

"woah there old man, relax, slow down" you pat Kunnikidas back as he gently but passive aggressively smacked your hand away.

atleast it went well...you hope the agency does not have secret murder plans against Chuuya; as if they already didn't; but now Dazai seems more set on annoying Chuuya the next time they meet.

#bsd imagine #bsd #bsd scenarios #chuuya nakahara x reader #chuuya x reader #bsd chuuya #bungou stray dogs chuuya #chuuya nakahara #bsd imagines #bungo stray dogs

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overtaken-stream · 2 months

Text

Where On3 Will St4nd

King The Wildfire x F!Lunarian!Reader

100+ Followers Special!! I APPRECIATE YOU GUYS SO MUCH! I CAN'T BELIEVE IT! THANK YOU GUYS FOR THE SUPPORT!! <3 (This was posted so late oml) This bad boy has been cooking in my drafts for close to a year and a half it feels like, it is very much burnt to a crisp. Thank you anon who asked me about King meeting another of his race! This would not be here without you <3

Also, sorry for the grammar mistakes, English isn't my first language.

word count: 8.9k

Warnings: incorrect cultural description(?)/practices(?), Self-harm(Burns), Imprisonment, Timeline is a mess don't come at me.

( The Land of a Demon )

Onigashima is an intimidating island; the smell of ash penetrates every corner of the scene where a battlefield will unfold. There are no flowers to add color to the brown mud and grey rocks, no snowflakes to grace the island or land on the red mist. The only thriving presence is the skull, where the fire emanates—the lair of a wrongdoer rotting and resting in this sinful place.

The skull, or rather, the rock resembling a creature much like the one on Thriller Bark—Oars, to be exact—was its name. But even he, the Junior, paled in comparison to the Skull Dome. No human could have sculpted it; giants, maybe, but even then, there are doubts.

It was formidable for you to step into the den of a beast earlier than expected, where you would be alone and defenseless. The dreadful aura the place is emitting is fitting for an Emperor of the sea. The deeper you went, the lighter you felt, the fearsome and overwhelming feeling was replaced by the intimidating, and may I say, strict walls you can find in the Wano Kuni, or the Flower Capital to be more exact, the only thing Onigashima lacks is the malnourishment that comes with Shoguns' rule, the exhausted faces of workers, the food prices and the dirtied outskirts. The separation of morals between the Wano Kuni and Onigashima shows clearly in the environment, it's like stepping into a completely different world, detached by the innocent victims who got birthed in this tangle of knotted rope, a mess, a sculptor done masterfully by manipulators of different social hierarchies. It's an art piece that took lives. A work in progress.

Their happiness depends on us. The ones who took it in the first place. The pirates.

We are the only people who bleed flames and light up the shadowed space that is Wano.

Soon.

...Soon.

After the worrying incident of the crew splitting apart yet again to get Sanji back and despite your worries for the polite cook- you were among the majority who continued traveling toward Wano. The plan was for you to become a Geisha working alongside Robin to get selected by the Shogun, but at last, the paths split and here you were in the den of beasts.

There was little chance of concealing your true identity in Wano; the absence of hair dyes posed a challenge. However, with strategic tying, the Obi belt effectively concealed the main factors that could give you away. The uncomfortable sensation is so familiar that you've learned to master not showing the everlasting pain on your face. The lightened makeup applied by the elderly further masks your skin, with red lips complementing your Obi and velvety gloves. The black hue of your flower kimono, snug tightly to your legs, hinders your pace, restraining you from keeping up with other women who, despite being more nervous, are less experienced in the field of treachery. Tonight, it will be challenging to differentiate professionals from novices, and you vow to take advantage.

The occasionally beautiful scenery inside the castle fails to comfort you amidst the fast-beating hearts; it is unsettling. The empty halls, guided by one of Kaido's puppets, make everyone dizzy with the maze-like walls—plain, hard to remember its turns.

In what way did the he turn last time?

The candles dwindle in plain sight as the floor creaks, accommodating the heavy steps of someone on the other side of the hallway. The sound becomes more vivid as it picks up pace, running past your group from the other side of the wall, capturing the attention of a soldier who turns and continues guiding with an anxious face.

It's only when the others, approximately ten pairs of feet, follow suit that you realize the commotion beside the separation. Judging by the soldier's expression, it seems to be a normal occurrence. However, you do not halt your steps; you continue to motionlessly follow, much like a sheep. It turns out the other women have the same idea.

There's an Oni free of its cage.

Debris falls from the shaking ceiling onto your shoulders. You wipe the black fabric clean, huffing as you quicken your pace, gently pushing the ladies to make way. The man, with spiky brown hair, takes another turn to the right this time.

``Sir, how far are you going to make us walk? Do you want us to be gasping for breath when we entertain our customers?`` You ask in a monotone voice, the impatience underlines your words, while your facial expression is the same as the one you entered with.

The soldier angles his neck to look up at you before his expression turns sour.

Lazy sons of bitches are too tired to answer a simple question. Tsk.

Your eye twitches as you await his answer. Not minding the spooked expressions of the ladies.

``Just above this floor.``

You only take your eyes off of him when the dark wood stairs come into view. It's been twenty years since the Beast Pirates invaded Wano Kuni and the history of Onigashima, they left a mark that will be impossible to remove. The residue of red that has maintained its place on the stairs is proof of that, who knows how many more illicit and barbaric things this place... This Country has witnessed. Who knows how many more will be lost.

Yet, people ignore it for their safety, geisha act no differently, even if they feel the warmth of a body no longer on the bottom of their okobo, they don't look down. For their security. Though you seem to be unable to look up, whoever the unfortunate victim was, you wish them a peaceful afterlife.

You hold in what anger you have, clenching your fists onto the sides of your kimono. There will come a time for you to spill it.

Soon.

...Soon.

A dreadful feeling emanates within the group, snapping you out of your daydreams. You didn't mean to get lost in your head, but the moment you let the fabric loose, the double door opens, and the women hurry their way to spots alongside every wall, unhappiness settling in their guts. They put their knees onto the soft purple cushions. Your eyes travel over the shamisen lying beside the cushion you were supposed to rest on. The three-stringed instrument you pick up seems to be brand new—unused and unprepared. However, even as you fix the strings, you feel relieved. Kyo Mai is a slow dance with complicated steps, and your confined wings always disturb your enactment. You were supposed to play the instrument and stay hidden among the performers, even with your snow-white hair and height.

The door opens right after everybody picks up their fans, you hid away in the background with the shamisen now in the proper hold.

(Away from the intimidating aura the girls seem to be spooked of. They don't break under the pressure. They repeat what was practiced.)

Here they come.

The All-Stars.

( Eyes That Follow )

From the three goliaths that were sitting and having an exchange, you've decided that Queen was the worst out of all of them. His immense and twisted pride shows even during his interactions with the women currently swarming his sides, the sadism that chokes the air out of every woman doesn't reach the beasts.

He calls it... “Flirting” it's not obvious to the naked eye but the girls feel uncomfortable, even when they smile, you can tell. It's for survival they smile. It's for survival they nod their heads as Queen throws compliments at a woman who isn't here. Komurasaki.

You feel sorry for the girl, to have Queen captivated was horrifying. You hold hope that Komurasaki will never meet him in person, even as your eyes continue to wander over Queen, for he, even if the filthiest of the All-Stars, was the most social one. A star scientist. It's when Queen starts practicing his singing talent that one of them calls.

``Oi.``

You straighten up. From on top Jack, The Drought looks down at you.

``Could you start the music already?`` His unreacting eyes only leave your face when you answer with an apology. It was obvious he was trying to silence Queen.

As you pull the shamisen closer to your body, you can hear the blond's offended complaints soon be replaced by the excitement when he realizes the Geishas' standings.

``Well, aren't you a beauty with white hair of yours, musician? Though no one will beat my Komurasaki! That bastard Shogun! Such a shame.``

You aren't sure what he pulls out of his pocket—a paper of some kind? A picture. You thought maybe some information would leak out of their mouths, yet the only conversations you hear are Queen's complaints and praises towards the women. Lost in your own mind, studies continue to mix. Is Kaido awarding his men before the festival? It seems unlikely, but unfortunately, that might be the case.

As you begin the melody of "Crane Wedding," there isn't another noise except Queen's malicious giggles interrupting you. That is until the sounds of squeaking leather picks up in the trapped room. You fix your eyes on the instrument while somebody else's eyes drill into your face, past your cosmetics and the flawless kimono. They don't move from your face; in fact, you might even think they are staring past your soul. You can feel their eyes travel to your neck, covered by the geisha's makeup. They stare, and you don't dare to look up meet meet them.

The pleasant music of yours doesn't halt as a geisha brings in the food, throwing a quick and nervous glance your way, but soon she too turns towards one of the three men who called her, leaving you alone with that crushing stare. The time stretches along with the performance; the short melody now feels like a loop of endless tactics put together. Lovely notes turn into a disgusting mess of mud inside your mind, plugging your ears and forcing you to hear the way your heart speeds up, noticing his eyes cling onto the darker color not peeking from under the makeup. You're nervous, as are the dancing geisha, whose only audience is Queen at this point. It's soon when the second, heavy pair of eyes turn towards you, but this one is much quicker to leave you be.

That must have been Jack.

King. He's the one that continues to stare.

The corner of your lips twitches after the realization. You try to keep away from falling and dissecting below his gaze. It lasts even after the dance was finished, his red eyes hold you hostage for the most part, even when you get up and do what your teacher, a sweet old lady has taught you.

It's fear, not of him, but rather afraid of him finding out what no outsider should know.

It's doubt, he is doubting you. Suspecting you, yet he asks no question. He only stares you down like a predator when you finally meet his crimson eyes. Your (E/C) eyes reflect his fully leathered top half.

You aren't afraid of him, no you can't be, you've faced many opponents in your 25 years of living, and you've gone through the suffering even the strongest men cannot withstand.

You are a Straw hat.

You are part of a future Pirate Kings crew. You cannot be intimidated by a mere second in command. You hold your head up high.

It turns out to be the right action that causes him to back down slowly, surely you are let go from the muddy waters.

( Eye to Eye )

The sunrise began as Jack got up, and soon Queen followed him. After his callouts to King, who threw an audible shut-up in his way but did not move from the spot he was standing, Queen wasn't convinced until Jack bulldozed through the door opening and intentionally dragged Queen out of the way.

The poker face you've kept up so far slips when King calls every woman out of the room except you. You can feel Haki building its way through your veins, but you don't jump to conclusions, even as he gets closer to you with a towering height difference, his latex and bands stay unmelted when the fire on his back explodes, little sparks jumping towards you, who is by now trapped between the wall and the giant. You can feel the hot sparks on your clothing land and extinguish themselves, The conclusion is slow beneath his red eyes that are staring at you so angrily, any other emotion so hard to read beneath the mask that thoroughly covers every part of his body, the folded black wings are no exception.

Besides blocking your means of escape, he has yet to do anything physically, the temperature in the room rises with how fast the heat is produced on his back. The fire is so familiar you might even get lost in it, in the old times, when fewer shit stains were roaming the planet. It makes you sweat underneath all the tight clothes you're wearing, especially on your back where the wings have started to ruffle, trying to let some air into its layers to no avail.

You wish you had talent in observation haki to determine what he was going to do next.

You flinch when his right arm raises from where it slept beside his thighs, it slowly gets closer to your frozen form, even if you try to lean away, there is no point, you realize. You are tall, but as both of you stand beside each other, He towers over you, but his intention isn't to intimidate you. The instinct is your strong suit and your weakest point.

You can feel the leather wipe away at your excessive makeup, from your cheek to your platysma his hand travels with a heavy heart on its sleeve.

If King was anyone other than King, you would have slapped it away.

If only he didn't share traits you are so familiar with.

If only you didn't share traits he is so familiar with.

You can feel the cosmetics dragging and staining his gloves, wiping away half of your disguise easily, thanks to the heat, he keeps a note of your half-disguised face with calculating... Wide eyes. The other half of your face, one that stayed untouched, must be melting.

It's the shaky puffs of air released from his mask that gives him away, the sudden rise in temperature in an already hot room, it must almost be 40°C, yet he does not budge.

Is he relieved...? Enthusiastic much...?

Not a word is said when he takes his arm away, now covered in white. You can see the way the pupils shake, you are sure he can see yours too, the furrowed brows and slightly parted lips of yours must be a giveaway.

The wings.

The eternal inferno.

A laugh escapes in the room-turned-oven, a nervous laugh of a feminine voice. You must be in shock to have fallen so low. Not even trying are you?

In a world that ought to hunt your kind down, to exterminate the past, the world that succeeded in destroying your kind, you don't feel alone. Or... You will no longer.

In the fervor, the mask comes off, leaving his sweat-covered face uncovered for you to see.

(``What tells that you are the only survivor?`` King used to ask himself back in his younger years before he made it clear how erroneous that question was, not to mention unlikely. It a proof of his childish innocence and the improvement. If more of his kind existed, they would be in the hands of the Government, doing god knows what to them. It always made the locked space of memories in his subconscious bubble up and boil over in quiet rages and liquor-companied nights. As he looks at your somewhat clean face, he is comforted by the pitiless thought that, by some luck, someone else managed to survive the hell he also went through. He wishes he could feel at ease, but he has to be sure. He has to eliminate every doubt in his mind.)

It's not out of intimacy and lust that he asks an inappropriate question to your calmed self about stripping. The surprised look in your eyes indicates a misunderstanding of his intentions. It's only mutual trust that guides him to do what he does next. Slowly but surely, he tries to pull his mask off, letting the tight piece tug at his scalp as he sets his hair free. Only when the temperature doesn't change, even when his skin feels the air, does he let the fire return to its original size.

King The Wildfire, only looks down at your complicated emotions. Even if he does not remember the company of his people, he would truly be a fool not to recognize his own biology. Though he doesn't hold onto hope, suspicion still lingers in his red eyes. It differs from your beaming laugh full of shallow happiness, representing more of a nervous tick than anything. It's been so long since he has heard a laugh not accompanied by sadistic undertones—exploiter gifters who dared to approach him—and the liquor Kaido keeps so close during his episodes.

``... I apologize for the heat."

You smile with somewhat shocked eyes looking up at him. ``...You know, it's been a while since I've felt the excitement of my kind.`` a nervous sigh you let out lead the conversation.

`` you don't have to apologize.``

``Yes... I-`` He has forgotten many unique reflexes with time. For this instance, it doesn't pains him. Every day he forgets what distinguishes the instincts of Lunarians, for he feels less of his kind.

He counts it as a sin, a shameful part of adulting, a side effect of having to live among the likes of Kaido's men, therefore his choice.

You acknowledge his position with his back turned to the door, sitting down cross-legged as he mentions for you to do the same. You obey, his wings hovering over you and hiding your figure from the outside world.

He asks once more to turn your back to him. You try to find any joke to fit in the thick air of nervous glances, but you find none. The unconscious mutual loyalty the both of you have towards one another is born by the shared traits, of family. Of shared pain.

You take the Obi belt in your hands and off of your waist.

He has many questions he cannot get out of his mouth, but for now, he keeps quiet. He is sure you have no intention of reliving the hell on earth that is the past.

You turn your back to a beast with the pattern of a face on its back.

As you take the black fabric of your kimono off, layer by layer the cold bites at your wet body, and the salty smell lets out into the heated air, though none of you care for the odor. You drop the kimono just below your belly button and let the relief that comes with letting your wings flex and take hold.

With a fast-beating heart, King watches.

It's in a haze that he reaches out to your back, his fingers connecting to the shoulders where the wings come from, sending a shiver down your sweat-covered spine, they're smaller he thinks, more fragile than him, though there is no difference in the power of flame and healing when it comes to genders. She could make them bigger when required. They aren't fragile, they are as powerful as his, but the size difference makes it easy to tickle his instincts, long forgotten and left in the past, starving for attention. His hands run over your coracoid, trying to find the place where the feathers meet the skin, attempting to find the evidence that you are real.

He barely hears your name, caught in the view of the wings turning from black to dark blue at different angles. Though he doesn't answer, he has already shown you enough of himself, it is no longer essential. King will do just fine.

The wings are erogenous, however, even if you shiver under the sensitive touches, no lust taints the special moment between the survivors.

``(Y/N).`` you spell out your name.

By instinct, his fire becomes ablaze when his hand sneaks up your humerus, lingering touches ruffling your feathers as the fire licks at your ungroomed wing. It lights the reflective white strands of hair that escaped from Geiko Shimada. The warmth on your back is comforting to the point where you lean your wings into it. Finally, you light the eternal flame, his hand engulfed in your flames goes undamaged. It extracts and attracts the fire from his hand into the center of your spine, causing the fire to grow and spread onto your wing feathers.

Looking back you're met with what you would call, a confused face of King whose features have been caught in the yellow glow of a fire that you are able to control.

King only stares at your almost nude form with a wrinkle of thought between his eyebrows.

( Guard )

In the way King shelters you, with him beside you and you hidden in the massive wing as he walks into his chambers, you would be wrong if you said you aren't anxious. Happy but skeptical. You doubt he'll hurt you, but the mask locking away his facial structures works as an intimidation factor.

The click of a lock on his door is the only sound that disturbs the silence. Now you are in his territory, his nest.

``King?`` you turn around to look at him.

``Where did you come from.`` It's scary how quickly and unnoticeably he changes his mood. But it is probably because the enthusiasm has passed and questions have started to surface, what you thought to be a nice welcome, turns into icy bars locking you out of your getaway, just like earlier. His red eyes leave a permanent mark on your (E/C) ones.

Where did you come from. that's not a question. Questions don't make you feel as if the warmth has left your body and sent shivers down your spine. They don't drag you down the lone caves and lock up your respiratory system.

Questions aren't meant to stop time. But the way both of you aren't moving, they might as well.

You have to be careful with every word and syllable you mutter. ``I've come fro-``

``How are you alive.``

``I-``

You barely have time to finish your answers before he's asking another one, slowly he steps toward you. In the dark, his leather shines, but as you take another step back you cannot help but glance at his wings. How the moonlight seems to bend with each curve of his feathers, sinking into the crevices and lightening them up in a blue hue, similar to you, but unlike the yellow glow, King's replaced by the white. You can't help but be deprived.

There is only one sentence that is louder than the rumble coming from within him. The declaration you acknowledge within all the noise clogging your ears.

You don't feel the suffocation of this situation, nor do you hear King's voice anymore. The pressure (Despite the windows being open) comes from the claustrophobic chamber. Your wings stay close to your back. The masked face looks down on your kimono, his pupils have seemed to freeze on your form, and the angry aura that he emits is all but a facade of defense. His jaw is moving but all you can hear is a rumble that pours out deep from his chest, it's incredibly loud yet deaf to the ears of normal humans, the volume that should shake walls only quiver your brain.

The moonlight seems to cage you in, showing your footsteps to a starved predator, it's the devil's eye that replaces the moon, with red pupils that stare you down. He overshadows your form, sending warnings throughout your system-

The possessiveness only sends shivers down your spine.

(Fight or flight?)

From somewhere far away, a boy with a straw hat on his face lifts his head from where it's laying in a hammock, letting the yellow straws that are incapable of being split slowly drop onto his bandaged chest. The rough feel of the same material wraps around his forehead trapping a few black strands of hair with it.

He grumbles, the ache in his limbs starting to become much more obvious, with half-lidded eyes Luffy looks up from the opening of the hammock, letting his head peek over at the sleeping skeleton currently knocked out in the same way Luffy was supposed to be.

Something's happening.

He is sure of it, but with grogginess biting away his consciousness, he has no energy left to chase after that feeling, he turns his stiff body the other way, peeking from the left he comes face to face with the man who is a family member in all but blood, who he got back just a few hours ago.

He smiles and lies back down, from the position he is in, a window the size of his head stays open, it shows the moon and the stars twinkling their way into existence.

He wonders what others must be up to, are they watching the moon with him? Basking in its glow like a tiger?

He hates that he has to keep them waiting, but it was necessary.

Soon.

...Soon he'll be there.

Wait for him... A little more!-

( Domain )

There's something cataclysmic lurking in the walls of his chambers, causing your ears to bleed. The shackles rattle loudly next to your helix as you scratch at your ear, only making the headache worse. The heavy pull of sea stone brings down your mood. Rough exterior already leaving its mark on your hands

The mirror rests across the bed, compelling the disheveled mess of yourself to face the view. Hair strands fall on the sides of your face, greasy with gel, and your face—oh God, your face—appears smudged, as if the color is melting away. The swollen eyes that signal a newly awakened person squint to see your reflection.

The clothes are still on your body despite being passed out on the enormous bed of a murderer, a killer, and a tyrant's sidekick last night. Another ridiculous error to add to the imaginary board.

Back when King unleashed the color of the Supreme King on your cornered self you didn't dare fight back, and the shackles were here in the form of consequence to your conclusion.

The room was dark, with the only source of light being the window next to the mirror. The bars on the outside really make you feel at home. The decor set a scene suggesting no man had ever lived there. Occasional scratches marked the floor, and the specially modified bed, along with what you could only guess was a closet, were all tailored to fit his taste. Gothic undertones and a taste reminiscent of some old king's private quarters defined his preferences. You could barely discern the detailing on the bed and the strangely designed closet colored in black and gold. The dominating dark blue swallowed any light that entered the room, and there was a door to your left, likely leading to the bathroom.

The quiet morning was disturbed by the entrance of King, he stands in front of the same door you remember entering last night.

You feel quite disgusted.

``I didn't expect you to be awake.`` For a moment before you passed out, you didn't either.

The uneasy eyes meet kings' as time stills. Dragging out the undesirable connection. It only serves to tug your heart down to your gut. The happy moment, the relief and sorrow for the past nothing but a distant memory in the dark shadows of a realm not your own.

He moves closer to your bed, hands dropping what seems to be extra clothes near your feet. The man doesn't flinch as you push your legs closer to your torso and away from him. The rejection is disregarded.

``You should change.`` Carefully you nod your head.

``The bathroom is over there.``His stern voice shakes the weak walls of your mind as he turns his back on you before walking over to the entrance.

You can't help but let out a shaky breath as the door is locked and you're left alone with thoughts you can not connect no matter how hard you try, it only serves to make tremors run up your spine and into your fingertips, it's a dread invading a carefully maintained flesh you tried to protect with the hands of a child once. The deep noise your restraints produce was nothing but a ghost of your past just a couple of days ago. The weight on your wrists burns. The crackle is deafening and bone-shaking. There's no one else to hear you.

``... I need...`` Time to think, to process. Your lips shiver.

The soft white walls are nothing but an illusion. You wonder if the blue-colored room of a beast is a delusion.

The eyes and the goggles flash before you, white coats accompanied by bloodlust run over your thoughts.

Breathe.

You push your knees off of the bed, sweat traveling down your face, the cold is in no way a comfort.

The warm water is what tempts you to tread the wooden floor.

( Lone Wolf )

The water is hot against your skin as the shower head lets the boiling droplets escape freely from the metal, and steam coats the world in the lightest tints. King brings the ache you've long forgotten existed ever since the smile of a boy with the straw hat lit your life full of shadow. You wish you could be happy in the burning downpour, you deserve it, however, the inferno on your back heals the drawbacks, leaving no trace of your accomplishments which took more than a couple of burns to earn.

And you wonder what have you done to earn this.

The happiness of no longer carrying the guilt was relieving, even if it lasted for a couple of minutes.

As a little lady you would wish for a knight to come and take you away to the land of dreams, make the walls just a bit more colorful and alive in the world that burns dreams. The warm hands would he have, the soft look and the shine in his eyes, the wings on his back, and the fire that would put the sun to shame with its flames. The honey on his lips and the daisies in your hair.

The desires were harmless, they gave you hope, something a human would have.

(You can still taste the metal. You can feel the debris fall and you hear their landing making the ground of pure white shake.

Your instincts would only let you run. Would only make you avoid the black broken bricks covered in glitter. Shining green from the light and smoke.

You have no idea what exploded. You won't want to know.

That night, the girl left that place and its guards to be doomed into oblivion.

That night, a knight was left without his princess.)

The sizzling sound you feel is draining you of the energy you might need, it's a waste yet the fire on your back regenerates the lost skin again, again and again. Until you give in and stop the shower, only for the shackles to be felt around your hands. Your wings are open, fully on display.

Sensing the burns in your bones, you wonder what would have happened if you were more close to the explosion of the past, wonder if it would have been better as the water droplets fall from your wet face.

It's fairer than facing the reality that complicates the fragile string of truths once again.

Hands clenched into fists and fire growing ever hotter on your back, you wonder if you are patient enough for this, no longer does a little girl await for saving. She doesn't need to anymore. Someone else might.

It brings up a question. Can you be the light needed for one's darkest times?

You walk out of the shower with a hot back and bloody palms, the fire burns brightly above the feathers. You can only hope to fuel it forever. You keep the wings close, your captor closer.

No longer will you be truly alone.

( Purity )

If there's one thing you've learned as a child, it's that they aim for the stars, with no plan in mind and ambition in their belly, only a brave few truly make it into the sky and those who could not are left with clipped wings and broken dreams. Fragile to the point they crash onto the soil and shatter, never to be put together again.

It makes you proud that your captain never crashed down, that his wings were never clipped, you're sure that the thoughtlessness was enough to boost him to reach beyond the stars.

Before, you wondered if you were able to grab onto the lights that looked down on you during the night. Now you live to see it come true.

However, where you succeeded some failed.

And so King came crashing down with the one who put his wings back together, feather by feather, vigorous and more dreadful than ever.

He split the skies until it cried.

You refuse to allow him to recite Kaidou's doing to you. Day after day in the dark and cold chamber, your fire brightens the dark and continuously burns on your back, never once diminishing.

Nobody is allowed that pleasure.

( Prison )

Getting used to a closed environment comes naturally, as much as you hate to admit it. The dim walls are a new addition to your view, which is no longer full of white coats and a bright enclosure. The heavy shackles are much harder to familiarize with.

In a cold chamber time moves fast.

Your only interaction with the outside world is King, dark and broody, full of confidence and gentleness, he treats you as if you're fragility itself. You won't beg for a way out, you never did, humiliation over naught is an intense feeling to swallow. He's careful with his words, careful in the way he acts and reconnects with his instincts right by your side.

Day after day his visits keep a consistent schedule, with two plates of food and loneliness in his belly he strives to spend breakfast, lunch, and dinner together with you, speaking only a few words of insight. There's fire on your back yet, it does nothing to protect you from the coldness he brings. Wings stay close to your back, never truly opening in the cage. The words he says don't carry the weight of a man born for death.

One wants to lower your walls while shackling you with his, to the point that the invisible distance strains you, he is full of drought and he craves to end the famine.

Time passes and the longer you ignore the elephant in the room, the heavier its weight on your shoulders grows. You destruct yourself for a question you're not ready to hear the answer to. The pressure leads to an opening to form.

It's said in an outlandish way, heart swelling with numbness and hate tingling your fingers. Your eyes stare onward, beyond the figure meeting them.

``What are you achieving?`` Why have you caged me? Weren't you in my position once upon a time?

It stops him dead in the tracks. His eyes don't widen yet his mouth does in a way that seems robotic. The air stills, only the noise of crackling fire could be heard, heavy and rich with the enigma the man was created to be.

Why did you choose kaidou?

You want to ask.

``...Nothing. I achieve nothing.`` you ignore the strict undertone and drink the tea he brought not too long ago. It conceals the wary gulp.

``I would never have taken you for a liar.`` An intense sound is created as he slices the distance between you two with his flight, black wings ajar. a sharp feather rests near your throat. You have to be attentive. Careful to not snap the thick rope that holds his pieces together.

Blood seeps out of the cut.

``Why do you wish for death?``

``You could have murdered me the night we met.`` It's too late for your soul to perish. His reasoning for keeping you alive is clear to you.

His hand, clenching the root of a dangerously pointed feather shakes with the conflicted emotion.

Your back lights and the cut is healed.

He cannot do it, not to his kind. With a quiet grunt, King backs off to leave the chamber, his feather crumbled and abandoned on the cold wood.

Every night is spent alone on a bed made for your kind, it's just that this night feels full of plain dismay and sorrow.

The past does not visit tonight.

( The Other Side )

Your words penetrate him, though he doesn't indicate. The conversation is buried in the depths of ash, fire blooms inside of him, it rages and burns, and wherever he steps the smoke trails after him.

``Haven't you walked the same path?``

His subordinates are seated around a large table, smiles and crevices on their face.

``Do you not know darkness?``

He does. He is intimate with it.

``The hopelessness of being someones plaything?``

He can feel the heat of the past catching up to him, engulfing him in the ball of flame and strapping him on a table. He knows how it feels to be burned to oblivion, the only peace he has known. Words of madness leave his lips, everyone, including himself knows that it's empty threats, for he stands on the other side of the glass. Nothing but a guinea pig

``I know that you know it too. We walked the same path.``

He would have grabbed anyone's hand if only they reached out. It just so happened that he grabbed someone who could change the world, for the better or for worse.

He looks at the barren wasteland of Onigashima.

Was it truly a choice when your options were between freedom and its absence?

He finds that time flies swiftly when sailing. It halts when on the land.

(He has never belonged to either.)

``Why do you recite history?``

He comes to a conclusion, one of selfishness and fear. Clenched fist heats up, he does not pay attention to the rising temperature.

He craves his kind. The hopelessness is the reason he captured you.

His teeth grind against one another. He isn't on the level of humans, his superior biology won't let him stoop that low, but he finds that mentally, he and them are cut from the same cloth. Other's consequences directed him to repeat what he feared.

The thought has long since passed.

King finds it hard to care about them.

But you are entirely foreign. He can taste the smoke of Punk Hazard.

You try again and again. Lightly scratching at the metaphorical walls of him until your hands grab his heart softly, ripping the veins and staining your hands with his blood.

Your mouth only forages for the food King fetches. He wonders about you and the possibilities of it all until the voice he has gotten used to brings him back to earth, you do nothing to cushion his fall, only stalling his drop with words he feels entirely uncomfortable to understand. For the reason that he had no one to share it with.

``There's a saying about them`` You say, looking oblivious with the plate resting on your knees, mouth cooling down the food.

``A man is wolf to man.`` He gets it, King is sure he will hear your voice saying it whenever the existence of The Celestials get brought up.

``I'm glad you aren't one.``

For a moment King thinks about the blood he spilled, the curses his shoulders withstand and the beginning of it all, the things he has seen himself do, and replies.

``I could say the same.``

You can see his face, swatted with shadows even without the mask, crack, and the hidden comfort dawns on his face.

The soup in your hands is warm like the sunlight, the mask he gripped whenever entering the room rests on the bed, no longer present in his claws.

A path reveals itself to the two of you.

(There's a flower that blooms only in cold surroundings, It feeds from the ground and awaits the warmth of the sun, from the grey clouds and falling snow, the light peeks through.)

( No Regrets )

Through the window, you can smell the madness in the air, it's evident in the way King comes in while the walls around you shake with the rhythms of Queen's performance.

Your heart follows along with the melody without your consent. After all, there is not much to do with the man that you have come to accept. The walls are nothing against the booming voice of a man too loud and apathetic. But within the confines of the castle, the tense atmosphere can be felt with the help of King. Every step he takes and grunt that follows brings forth his thoughts and instincts, there's something in the air. Teetering on the edges of your mind.

The Lunarian gets closer to you, finally reaching down to your level. For minutes he stares at you, taking in your features as if you'd disappear. The leather flexes as his left-hand holds your wrist.

The red eyes don't move away. Neither do yours.

The metal spikes on his mask gleam. His eyes tell a story as his head drops down, gloved fingers sliding over the rough material of your cuffs.

Time is ticking, and you are waiting for him to succumb to temptation and finally make a move for both's sake.

King's face tilts up with a heavy sigh in tow to look at you, only for a soft smile to greet him. The cuffs are warm around your skin and cold to the room.

After all, the sun speaks of your captain's arrival.

It doesn't take many days for King to return with the key in between his fingers and no fire on his back. Your smile greets his eyes, and the knowing grin settles on your dark skin, yet the maliciousness is nowhere to be found between your lips.

Ever since his release, King has never felt at peace, perhaps he can only close the distance.

(A glimpse of sunlight was all the flower needed to rise from the frozen land.)

The heavy cuffs harshly meet the floor.

( Reunion )

The smoke is filling your lungs, the familiarity making your heart clench and bring forth a cough. The walls are stained with blood, but you don't dwell on it. Instead, you let the sounds of battle lead your wings; feeling the air make way for you is a sensation missed. The chunks of limbs and lifeless bodies are nothing but a blur in your vision. The battle has long begun, and your release from the King's chamber is far too late.

A cunning smile flashes in your mind, long black hair, and rosy cheeks decorate the memory.

``Better late than never.`` Her composed voice would say, accompanied by her icy and all-knowing stare.

Suddenly, a blue light shines through the castle wall ahead, accompanied by the noise of a gigantic object impacting from the other side. With a single flap of your wings, you pick up speed, aiming to breach the barrier. Your tough feathers shield your body as you slam into and shatter the wall's material. Unscathed, your eyes adjust to the bright figure standing on your left, emanating a stunning light that brings life to its surroundings, leaving your eyes wide. You notice a trail of smoke to your right.

You get a better look at him as the surroundings clear up.

``S-Sanji?!`` You feel quite happy to know that his issue has been resolved, judging from the way his face brightens and stands on the ground of Wano's borders. Although he always lights up near the opposite sex.

``(Y/N)-Chan?!`` His matted blond hair is a detail you only notice with the advanced eyesight your kind seems to possess. The bloody lip and his bruised forehead made him quite a sight. Although the swelling is nowhere to be seen.

You can try to make the words of delight resurface in your mouth, it's always nice to let others know of your feelings, though sometimes it sure gets hard to pull them out from the bottom of your heart.

``I'm glad to see you here!`` it lets the burden on your shoulders lighten.

Sanji responds the way you except him to.

``(Y/N)-Chwaaan!!~♡ It's been so long since I last saw you!`` No longer able to contain the love in his body, the hearts burst from his very soul. Happiness fuels his wiggly movements. ``Oh, how I missed you!~``

A large smile stretches your lips, dry as a desert. ``It's nice to have you back!-``

You could have said more, but the time has already run out.

There's water leaking from the floor above, a loud shriek is heard and your back is met with a cold, menacing look from who seems to be Sanji's opponent.

The reflexes kick in, sinking into your veins, moving you out of the threat of a mechanism falling on top of you.

You'r gaze falls on the Beast. His eyes meet yours.

There's a glimmer of familiarity in his eye.

``Out of the way!`` Sanji's yell warns before the foe swings his oversized arms once more.

The amount of force needed for your wings to fly backward is more than necessary, though the opponent's swings seem to be getting swift at every dodge, the heat produced on your back strengthens your arms and then fists, and you look for an opening to get one hit in, but for a second you can see the furious blue eyes tell you his whole story, the desperation of a man becoming more clear to recognize...

You decide that this is not your battle... The heat is diminished.

( A Change )

The short encounter with the cook was not for naught, his instructions led you directed to a stadium full of warriors ready to risk their lives for a nation that has only its history to live for.

Within enemies, there are familiar faces mixed in, who are also fighting alongside you. With Kaido fighting Luffy and Sanji taking on Queen, it's only logical to assume that the first mate would go for the top of the food chain.

There's so much to do, yet the responsibility does not intimidate your kind.

You're left to protect the survivors of a war already won.

The aftermath was nothing more than a reunion for your crew.

( Hello )

The victory comes and brings midnight with it, cheers and smiles bloom on the warriors' faces as you breathe heavily, and everyone starts to tend to their wounds, burns and deep slashes are nothing compared to what they've achieved. Pirate crews are no exception, they rest and gain the energy they'll need for the morning, until then it seems that you're the only one with stamina left.

The fire on your back grows small until it vanishes completely.

Of course, after Kiado's defeat, warriors took advantage of the weakened Beast Pirates and imprisoned those who could still stand, albeit their dreams were and still are drowning in pieces far too small to see or collect. It's evident that they hold no hope for the future.

But there's a link connecting you to one of them.

You walk near the exit door, watching as men talk among each other and discuss their next step, whatever that may be. Your semblance to that man does not get mentioned by anyone after all, they have not seen his face, but the single glance from Zoro as he stayed awake for 5 seconds is enough for you to tense up, you wonder when it will be brought up. Zoro might have fallen asleep but your heart stayed heavy next to him.

It's a dangerous idea you have, suspicious even, though they must understand, Luffy's intelligence, Nami's smile, Robins's knowledge, Usopp's understanding nature, Chopper's innocent outlook, Franky's family ties, Brook's dedication, Sanji's acceptance, and Zoro's strict attitude. If a word got out, you'd have to face your friends, have to rip a bandaid off of an old wound and hold in a cry. You just have to wonder when?

Yet you still head towards the Udon Prison, consequences last in your mind, the night sky looks down upon you, the stars begging you to go back, however the dark clouds hide them away.

The night air feels nice on your skin, even as you stand above the walls keeping in the Beasts. You can tell that no one is awake, exhaustion haunts the air as you leap down on the dry ground. Mad Scientist Queen is lying face down, covered in bandages that soil the dirt underneath him red, you're glad that his snores are loud enough to hide your wings' shuffling.

The sudden chill runs up your spine and alerts your senses, face tilting sideways, you look at a disheveled man standing over you from behind.

``Hello again, King.`` He thinks of your eyes and how beautiful they look under the moonlight. Your beauty would put Luna to shame.

Your greeting is dismissed.

``Why are you here?`` His dry mouth can barely open to question you.

``To see you of course.`` This time he keeps his mouth shut. Yet his eyes observe your appearance, the dirt, and blood that soaks your Kimono.

To see him after a loss, in a state such as this is a crime that would be punished by death. You're the only exception to the rule that didn't exist yesterday.

``Let's take a seat.`` He hasn't even noticed you move into the center of the prison, too busy trying to keep all the blood inside his body to not flat-line. The bandages are not doing much, and the fire he used in his battle has extinguished itself. All his strength was used up and you wish to see him in this state? There are no words left for him to speak, so he takes the seat next to you. His knee touches yours, the intimacy is foreign.

``This calls for a celebration, don't you think? I grabbed us some booze.``

The liquor bottle nudges him and he takes it with no complaints. The reasoning for others' celebration is obvious, dethroning an emperor is a big feat for anybody.

``After all, a God has awakened.`` King knows.

His eyelids are closed yet he can see the vague silhouette of JoyBoy, the godly form only brings bitterness to his tongue, so he tries to drown it with the smoky taste of beer, which accomplishes little.

``I was mistaken.`` with Kaidou. Regret fills him.

He isn't angry at his loss as much as he is irritated.

``You were.`` The moonlight shines down on both of you. The silence is deafening, nothing but your heartbeats are heard.

``I was saved by that man.`` His head looks up at you, and each of his limbs freezes at the implication. The misery and hopelessness engulf the surroundings. He thinks about nothing except the straw hat with a red ribbon.

``I see... So you're apart of his family?``

``I am.`` the soft look in your eyes makes him envy you.

``...Are you happy?`` He doesn't know what he will do if you respond negatively. King already imprisoned you, took your independence, and chained you to him, yet you didn't burn out, How will he treat you?

``I am, were you not?`` with Kaidou? He doesn't have a straight answer, so he only responds with silence. This was a question he thinks you know the answer to.

It isn't until your hand grabs his cheeks that he opens his eyes in surprise, also realizing he closed them.

``What is that look?`` The strict tone in your voice is nostalgic. He tries to direct the conversation elsewhere, however his mind is flooded with the feeling of your warm hand on his face.

``The marines will come.``

``They'll come for you too, you know.`` You respond with the warning, the Navy isn't known for mercy after all, they'll go after the cause too.

``I don't want that... I don't... I don't want to be alone.`` You add, sheepish of your request, is it too much to ask? You have friends who you consider as family, but King is... Different.

King also does not want to be the sole survivor of his race, he has carried that burden for long enough and now that he had a taste of his people, he wishes to not go back.

``You won't be.`` It's the only promise he'll keep, for your sake and his.

For this, he will have to leave the prison.

``Stay alive for me.`` You beg and he complies.

It all starts with your wing enveloping his form, the soft heat from your contact, and the gentle touch of your fingers over his cheek.

( See You Later )

It ends with a promise and an escape into the night.

With you in the company of your friends on the Thousand Sunny.

And with him on top of a waterfall, watching with curious and intrigued eyes as he holds the leftover newspaper, the ship descends down the mountain and leaps into the ocean next to the koi fish.

He finds your smile now meters away, he gazes with a newfound meaning to his life.

#one piece #anime #king one piece #king the wildfire #king the conflagration #king the wildfire x reader #one piece x reader #one piece spoilers #wano arc #wano spoilers #wano kuni #one piece wano #beast pirates #.my writing.

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wanderinginksplot · 9 months

Text

Kix + Competence

After a rocky meeting, you try to avoid Kix and the attraction of his competence. It doesn't work out.

Kix x gn!reader (no use of 'y/n' and no pronouns). Romantic.

Word Count: 3,200

Warnings: feelings of intimidation, mentions of trooper genetic manipulation, nervousness, some awkwardness.

---

"Alright, that finishes up the bulk of today's briefing," Captain Rex announced. "Any other business?"

"Yeah, why are we having a briefing when we're so deep in unoccupied space that a Seppie would be a welcome sight?" one of the nearby troopers asked rhetorically, his voice pitched low enough that only the trooper beside him - and you - could hear.

It wasn't a bad point. The briefing had mostly been made up of minor points about the ship's maintenance and small alterations to the mission… only the declassified pieces, of course. The captain was welcome to have as many meetings as he wanted, but you were curious why you had to attend.

You were a last-minute addition to the Resolute, pulled in to fill a position that had been vacated due to an unfortunate combination of injuries, deaths, and transfers. The job as a radar technician was one you excelled at, and your supervisor had immediately recommended you to fill the temporary vacancy. Your competitive streak had preened at the recognition of your skills, even if they sent you to a dangerous position far from home.

The fact that you had no family and few friends was probably part of the reason for your new assignment, but you were trying not to think about that.

In any case, silence reigned in the hangar bay after the captain had asked his question and you were ready for the meeting to end, but the captain nodded to one of the troopers.

As the man in question stepped forward, your heart gave a heaving thud and you did your best to look somewhere else.

Kix was the 501st's medic, the one assigned to keep the men safe and treat any injuries that may occur in the field. He was an efficient worker, an unflinching professional, and extremely competent in every respect.

That was the problem.

Your first interaction with the medic had been less than ideal. You had been brand new to the Resolute and interacting with some troopers for the first time when you had asked how they spent down time on the cruiser. They had mentioned a few things, but seemed especially excited about competitions in the blaster ranges. As always, the mention of a chance to excel had piqued your interest and you had excitedly mentioned that you were a good shot.

“Who knows?” you had joked. “I might even end up beating some of you!”

They had laughed, but Kix - standing nearby - hadn’t. “Doubtful. Troopers are bred from the genes up to be better than nat-borns at anything combat-related. Shooting, running, strategy, detonators…”

With the horrible sensation of prior interest that had now curdled in your stomach, you offered a curt nod and walked away.

Kix’s bluntness hadn’t been a surprise, especially since he was a medic, but it paired poorly with a shocking revelation you had about yourself: you liked him.

You hadn’t known how thrilling you found competence until you had joined the GAR… and even then, you encountered very few examples of it. But on the Resolute, Kix was the one who had drawn your attention. At first that was mostly due to irritation, but it had soon turned to reluctant admiration. He was attractive even beyond his bearing and you could see yourself in a relationship with him - hells, you had imagined it often enough - but your assignment was probably temporary and it seemed like a bad idea.

So, as the self-assured, competitive technician you considered yourself, you put all your energy toward avoiding Kix any time there was a chance of sharing a space.

It really didn’t work very well. You always found yourself in situations where Kix was present. Even worse, he always seemed to be doing something that showed how intensely good he was at being a medic or influencing his brothers or any number of things he had been trained to do. It was frustrating.

At the front of the room, Kix had only just started to speak. Despite your determination not to stare at- ahem, watch him, his voice commanded your attention and you found your gaze locked on him anyway.

“As most of the veteran troopers on this ship know, you are expected to meet basic safety standards to serve aboard a space-faring vessel, especially in times of war. Every being on this ship must hold certain certifications concerning those standards.” Kix glanced around the room. “I know we have a few newcomers on the Resolute, so consider this your briefing: you need to attend a class and an assessment. Dates and times for those are posted on the ship’s information boards and outside of the medbay.”

This wasn’t the first you had heard about safety standards and certifications. You had even known they were required for serving on ships. However, you had always assumed you were exempt since you were only a specialist brought on for a temporary assignment. Apparently, that wasn’t the case.

Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad, you reasoned. Kix probably wouldn’t be there. Why would a medic supervise safety regulatory compliance? …okay, you could guess why. But he had other work to do.

Your hopes were instantly dashed when Kix finished, “I’ll be personally supervising every training and assessment. If you don’t complete your full certification by the end of the week, you’ll be subject to disciplinary action.”

“What if we��re already certified but wanna come hang out with our favorite medic?” a voice called from the front of the group.

Kix rolled his eyes, but a grin flashed over his face as he said, “Jesse, you can go ahead and let your certification expire. I don’t think anyone is comfortable with the idea of you trying to save their life.”

A loud scoff and some raucous laughter was the only answer to that… at least until Captain Rex announced, “Dismissed.”

You were slow to join the crowd of troopers drifting toward the doors back into the main body of the Resolute. Even just that split-second smirk on the handsome medic’s face had been enough to throw your heart into a pounding rhythm.

How were you ever going to survive a full class with him and still learn enough to pass the assessment? You certainly didn’t want to be found lacking, even in a temporary assignment. And especially since you knew Kix had such a low opinion of nat-borns already.

Two days later, you hadn’t found an answer, but you were in the class. It wasn’t the last one offered, but it was the only one that worked with your schedule. Infuriatingly, Kix had been around even more often since the briefing. Any time you were somewhere for more than an hour or two, he would be there as well. The reasons were always different and valid: working on a project, checking on someone who had sustained an injury on the last mission, following up with people who had taken their assessments.

When you finally walked into the class, you were relieved to find that it seemed to be a module-based course. There were workstations set around the room, each with a datapad lying on the desk.

“Welcome,” a voice greeted warmly. You knew who the voice belonged to, and a polite - if mildly pained - smile was already stretched over your face by the time you turned. “Let me explain how the class is going to work.”

You nodded, glancing around the room as an excuse to avoid his eyes. You were worried what they would see in yours. “I would appreciate that. I’m a little lost.”

“Well, we’re going to start with a short holovid on the datapads,” Kix told you, gesturing to the waiting row of workstations. “It’ll walk you through some basic safety and first aid information. Then, when you’ve finished the video, you’ll come to the back area.”

You hadn’t seen the small, half-curtained area until Kix pointed it out, and then your nerves were thrumming with tension.

“To demonstrate the skills there, I assume?” you checked. When Kix nodded, you asked, “And is this a test situation or a collaborative effort?”

“More the former than the latter,” Kix told you. “That works better for you, since you’re the only one who signed up for this particular time slot.”

The signups had indicated that you would need one to two hours to complete the full course. Just your luck that time would be spent completely alone with the 501st’s handsome medic.

“I’m sure you have other things to do,” you said in a desperate attempt to get out of this for a little longer. “I can sign up for a different course with other people in it. Just let me know what day and time.”

This was the only course that worked with your schedule, but surely you could be excused from your job to be certified in order to continue performing said job? That sounded like something you could convince your supervisor to allow.

But Kix was already shaking his head. “You’re already here and I’ve had this time set aside since you signed up. Go ahead and grab a datapad. The holofilm is already queued up. Let me know when you’re done and we’ll move on to the second half of things.”

You weren’t sure what you had expected to see in the holofilm - maybe CPR or basic first aid - but you were met with a diagram of a Venator-class star destroyer.

An LY-77 droid began speaking about the build of the ship, what each floor held, and where the major mechanical components were housed. You held a top-secret security clearance as part of the requirements for your job, but this was still intensely well-guarded information. Honestly, you weren’t sure you were supposed to be seeing it at all, but it was interesting enough to hold your attention.

The droid talked you through emergency plans, evacuation routes, and the location of medical kits. Then the holovid delved deeper into the specifics of what you could find in the medkits and how each piece should be used. That was where things started to get more complex. The medkits were meant to help with anything from trips and falls to depressurization.

Just as you were starting to feel bitter at Kix for describing the holovid as ‘short’, it ended. That would have been good, but it left you with the realization that you had to go spend time one-on-one with the medic.

When you walked toward the curtained area, you found Kix sitting at his desk seemingly engrossed in filling out forms. You cleared your throat softly. “Kix? I’m done with the holovid.”

Kix immediately stowed his datapad in a drawer and stood. “Good. Any questions?”

You shook your head and he gestured you toward the curtained area. When you stepped through, you found a realistic mannequin lying on the bed with a medkit on the table beside it. It seemed to be a generically humanoid medical mannequin, though someone had drawn the outline of a chestplate across the torso, along with some lines that looked suspiciously like Hardcase’s tattoos.

“We’re going to run through some questions and test how well you remember the different topics covered in the holovid,” Kix told you.

Despite the nervousness screaming through your system, you passed the majority of the test without making a mistake. Luckily, the internal organization of a Venator-class star destroyer was fairly logical, which made it easier to follow. Questions about emergency situations had captured your attention, so you had retained more than you might have, otherwise.

“Okay, great job,” Kix congratulated. “Let’s move on to the practical portion. Go ahead and open the kit.”

That sounded simple enough - and it should have been - but the medkit had latches unlike anything you had ever seen before. Dimly, you remembered the holovid mentioning that the medkits were tamper-proof, with latches designed to be operated only by sentients. You weren’t sure whether the sentient-operated design was one you endorsed, especially since you couldn’t manage to pry them open, even as a sentient yourself.

“They’re sent-op latches,” Kix reminded you.

You gritted your teeth in an effort to hold back a biting retort. “I realize that. I’m just having trouble opening them.”

“The holovid showed you how to open them.”

The underlying meaning being that you should remember how to use the latches. Or that you hadn’t been paying attention. Both of those conclusions frustrated you because, despite paying attention, you didn’t remember how to operate the latches.

“I don’t have a perfect memory, not like you do,” you countered. Your irritation made the factual statement sound snappish. Kix frowned and you shook your head, regret spiking in your chest. Just because you thought he was condescending didn’t mean you could be rude. “I didn’t mean it like that…”

“Do you need something to eat?”

The sudden change in topic made you stare. “Wh-what?”

“Your hands are shaking,” Kix pointed out, already bustling to a nearby cabinet. Before you could get more than two words into your explanation, he was back and pressing a small packet of crackers into your hands… Which, you had to admit, were noticeably shaking.

“Are you feeling okay?” he continued. “Eat and I’ll get you something to drink. I think I’ve got some juice around here. I haven’t seen anything noteworthy in your medical records, but we can run some tests-”

“Kix, I’m fine,” you interrupted. “I’m nervous, not sick.”

He pulled up short, squinting at you. “Nervous? Why are you nervous?”

“Well, I’m not sure…” you drawled slowly, sarcasm dripping from every word. “Maybe it’s because I’m being tested on a half-learned set of procedures by a hyper-competent medical officer?”

“You shouldn’t be nervous,” Kix assured you.

You rolled your eyes. “Kix, put yourself in my position. You wouldn’t be nervous if you were me?”

“I’m already nervous.”

You would have taken it as a joke, a dry little comment meant to either put you down slightly or attempt to put you at ease (failure though it would be). However, the surprised and regretful look on Kix’s face told you that wasn’t the case.

“You’re nervous?” you asked, feeling stunned. “Why would you be nervous?”

“It’s not- That isn’t-” Kix cut himself off with a sharp sigh and an impatient turn, like he had other things he needed to do. But now that you knew what to look for, you saw past the cool, professional facade. He really was on-edge. “You aren’t an easy person to get to know.”

If the galaxy had given you a thousand guesses, that wouldn’t have been among them. “Get to know me? I don’t understand.”

Another sigh. “You know the men talk amongst themselves, right?”

“Yes, I know,” you told him with a shrug. You had seen the troopers gossip in the mess hall, on the bridge, in hallways… anywhere, really. “They aren’t exactly subtle.”

“Of course not,” Kix agreed, shaking his head in exasperation and mild amusement. “But you may not know that they have plenty to say about you.”

You winced. “Anything I need to explain?”

Kix frowned for a moment in confusion, then barked out a laugh. “No, nothing concerning. They say good things about you. Really good things, actually. Mostly that you’re hardworking and trustworthy and funny. And there’s the- Well, the… You know you’re good-looking, right?”

Now it was your turn to give a sharp laugh. “Pretty rich coming from the best-looking trooper in the GAR.”

Any embarrassment you may have felt at saying that directly to Kix’s face was negated by the fact that you had heard the comment parroted word-for-word at least two dozen times since you had first stepped aboard the Resolute.

And you made sure your tone showed that, too.

Kix grinned anyway, as cocky as you would have expected if the compliment had been given by you alone. “Flattery won’t make me forget the rest of the assessment, but you’re welcome to keep trying.”

“Don’t get too excited,” you warned him, watching his expression stay exactly the same despite it. “I also think you’re rude and condescending.”

Finally a reaction - Kix grimaced slightly. “Because of the genetic superiority comment?”

“Yes.” If the confirmation came out flat and a little dry, it was still better than anything else that may have escaped you.

“Yeah, Denal told me I karked that one up pretty badly,” he admitted, looking a little sheepish. “I’ve wanted to make it up to you, but I was trying to let you make the first move and you never acknowledge me.”

That made you frown in realization. “Wait, is that why you’re always hanging around? Trying to get me to talk to you?”

Now Kix was frowning, too. “Yes? Why else would I do it?”

“Honestly, I thought you were showing off,” you replied. “You always seemed to be doing something to prove how great a soldier you are or how skilled you are at being the 501st’s medic.”

Kix ducked his head, handsome face reddening slightly. “Well, if I was going to be around anyway, I thought it might help if you thought I was good at my job.”

“That’s never been in question,” you countered, feeling exasperated. “Anyone can see you’re good at your job, Kix. But all it made me feel was intimidation.”

And attraction, a traitorous little voice reminded, not incorrectly. You pushed it away, but not soon enough. Whatever Kix had read in your expression, it was enough to give him a look that was almost gleeful.

“What was that?”

“I didn’t say anything,” you denied.

“No, but you didn’t have to.” Kix took a step toward you, putting himself squarely in touching distance. You got the distinct feeling it was meant to be for your benefit. “Come on, tell me what that face was about.”

The resulting argument was short, but longer than was worth it. Eventually, you sighed. “Like I said, you’re a good-looking man. Can we move on?”

“On one condition.”

You frowned at the cryptic answer. “And that is?”

“Spend some time with me,” he requested. “Just dinner here on the ship. Any time you want before we get back to Coruscant. And then it’s up to you - if you want to keep seeing each other, say the word and I’ll plan a better date planetside. What do you think?”

The pause you took to think it over was about twice the time you actually needed, but it was soothing the remains of your irritation to see him start looking nervous. At last, you took pity on him. “I’d like that.”

“Good,” Kix said, gracing you with a small but sincere smile that spread over his handsome face. That smile turned into a grin the next moment as he nodded toward your hands. “I still need you to open that medkit, though.”

Your groan was loud and mostly theatrical, interrupted by Kix’s laugh and broken by your own.

---

Author's Note - I feel like I've written very few fics featuring Kix (other than Nobody Listens to Kix), so I wanted to write one. Thanks for reading. I hope you liked it!

You can find other works on my masterlist or sign up for my taglist here!

Taglist: @rexs-wife @sugarpuffsstuff @stargazingthenightaway @just-some-girl-92 @kimageddon @ladysongmaster @carodealmeida @adriiibell @boomtowngirl @bitchylittleredhead @blck-omen @lackofhonor @captxin-rex @literallydontlook @salaminus @lucyhelena @808tsuika @ladykatakuri @bikerlorian @torchbearerkyle @frietiemeloen @tsedeshgishnii @buddee @justanothersadperson93 @leotatombs @mavendeb @rain-on-kamino @itsagrimm @captain-splock-you @dancingwiththeplanets @hummellchen @theclonesdeservebetter @cyarinka @ladyemxo @maulslittlemeowmeow @rosmariner @staycalmandhugaclone @coruscanticoffee @crookedwiings @eyecandyeoz @fordo-kixed-rex @musigrusi @lucyysthings @dinsverdika @bombshe77 @cawyden

#star wars #star wars the clone wars #star wars fanfiction #kix #clone medic kix #clone trooper kix #kix x reader #gn!reader #kix x you #reader insert fic #reader insert #ink's fics #clone troopers deserve better

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astro-pioneer · 7 months

Note

Hello! Nice to meet you!

Could I request Kaveh, Ayato, and Zhongli's s/o telling them "You're not royalty, but you are the ruler of my heart!"?

king of my heart!

not being royalty doesn’t concern him when he’s a ruler in your eyes (and heart). 『kaveh, ayato, zhongli』

kaveh!

All Kaveh did after the Interdarshan Championship was mope, and it was starting to aggravate Alhaitham. In his eyes, it made no sense to be upset about something you did yourself, but he knew that sharing his thoughts to the blond would do nothing but cause him to start a petty argument that only he's involved in. He doesn't know how you deal with him most of the time, if he's honest.

Luckily you invited Kaveh over to your house. It was mostly to help Alhaitham more than your boyfriend. "You know," you started while at the stove, "the things you did were very noble." His head perked up from where he was setting a plate at the table. "Sure, you don't have that insane amount of wealth that was promised or were able to parade in the diadem, but who cares? You're great in my eyes, and you don't need the money or crown of a king to rule my heart."

Sniffles sounded from behind you before his arms were wrapped around you, his pretty face damp with tears. "Oh, you're so lovely! Where would I be without you?" You extinguished the fire in front of you before moving away from the hot metal on the burner. You didn't want to reply and stuck to comforting him, but he'd probably still be moping on the couch in Alhaitham's house until he got sick of it and locked the blond out.

ayato!

He was known to be the head of the Kamisato Clan, used to working more behind the scenes for the more draining issues regarding the nation. However, even though that was the role he preferred to play, it was not hard to see that the male wished to be recognized for his accomplishments.

Ayato allowed you to hear his thoughts late one night. He clarified that no, he does not regret any choices that got him in this position. That'd basically be saying that he regrets every moment he experienced while being in this position. That'd basically be saying he regrets ever meeting and falling in love with you. He also spoke about Ayaka being the main public affairs leader and that he doesn't wish to have her role either (he was also told by multiple people that he can be seen as a little intimidating with how he does things).

Ayato wishes for more recognition for the job he's had to bear and a horrifically young age. Despite how it seems, many Inazuma citizens appreciate what he does; it's just hard to express that appreciation with a figure of high authority that no one really sees. He poured out his insecurities that tender night, and you were right there to soak it all in and comfort him. "My dearest Ayato, though you have these doubts, please always remember that even though you don't think of yourself as royalty, you'll always be the ruler of my heart, no matter what."

zhongli!

Zhongli was lost when he stepped down from his spot as archon. While observing his people when he was getting accustomed to being a normal mortal, it did not allow himself to see the more emotionally intimate parts of humans. The parts of insecurities, times where unknown feelings introduced themselves.

They first appeared while you were enjoying a night out at the harbour. He mentioned it out of the blue, quiet enough for no other patrons to hear him. "Darling, do you see me as less than since I stepped down?" The look you gave him was enough for him to go back to the story being told, but not for you. You didn't want to allow him to feel even an ounce of worthlessness without you reassuring him that the thoughts are lies.

"Less than? Archon, adeptus, funeral parlor worker, whatever you wish to be, you'll always be Zhongli to me. Besides, even if you no longer rule over a nation with the title as 'god', you'll forever rule my heart." His gloved hand interlaced its fingers with yours, his thumb rubbing soothingly on the back of your hand. It was silent, the thank you, but it was there and that's all you needed.

#✎ expedition #✩ neptune #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #kaveh x reader #kamisato ayato x reader #ayato x reader #zhongli x reader

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carnivalcarriondiscarded · 2 months

Text

What’s up with the ties between Sally & Eddie?

There are quite a few - to the point where I’m starting to suspect that they may be foils, or at least inherently tied together in the story.

First let's bring things back to the clocks. The “day” side has an obvious resemblance to Sally, like how the “night” side resembles Eddie. There’s not really much I can say here since we don’t know much more yet, and who knows if this has changed behind the scenes. But just think about that, the rarity of the color purple, night vs day, and the “monster”. Keep it in your head, I think it may be important.

Also the fact that Eddie is the only one with a watch, but Sally’s face has an incredibly similar face on her door.

Obviously Sally has some sort of beef with Eddie, despite him being nothing but friendly and (to our knowledge) being undeserving of it. One thought I entertained was “maybe Sally is dismissive of him because he’s a worker,” but that holds zero water when you consider how perfectly friendly Sally was with Howdy (karen Sally debunked <3). The second thought I had was “maybe Sally senses the queer in Eddie and it intimidates her” - which would make sense if Sally is a lesbian like I suspect. Internalized homophobia, anyone? This holds up if Eddie is going to turn out to be - not open about himself, but comfortable in his skin in a way that, say, Frank isn’t. Which I have a feeling that will be the case, which would likely make Sally put on airs even more so than usual.

Anyone else seeing a continuous trend of (social) masks and performances unfolding in the Neighborhood? I sure am.

But let’s talk about why I think they might be foils. They balance each other out in an interesting way, despite their only solid similarity being that Both will work/perform no matter the weather. They have a lot of closely related differences:

Eddie has been mentioned (and implied within the story so far) to have a deeper well of knowledge than he lets on, but acts humble about it. Sally has been mentioned (and implied) to know less than she portrays, but acts like a bit of a know-it-all - she pretends to know things that she doesn’t.

Eddie’s role is about helping others at his own expense, while Sally’s is using others to reach fame.

Eddie strives to connect with his Neighbors and is all about accuracy/precision. Sally is in her own little world and has proved to be more than willing to improvise / not think things through before acting.

Eddie is slow to anger, and Sally is easily irritated.

Selfless vs Selfish.

Night vs Day.

And to put them in the Johari Window - i believe that Sally resides in the Blind Spot (known to others, not known to self), and Eddie resides in either the Facade (not known to others, known to self) OR the Unknown (not known to others, not known to self). Personally I’m starting to believe that Eddie may reside in both.

It’s far too early to draw any real conclusions, and theorizing on all of this is difficult. I feel as though - as usual - we have puzzle pieces but no frame of reference for the way they fit together, what picture they build. And who knows, tomorrow’s update may shred this to ribbons, but I doubt it.

One thought I had was that they’re in cahoots about something - it doesn’t have to be something malicious or some sort of secret plot, it could simply be something they both know and are trying to keep quiet about. Eddie is trying to connect with Sally since they have this in common, but Sally is actively putting distance between them to preserve their secret / plausible deniability. Do I actually believe this? Meh. I’m just throwing spaghetti at the wall to see what sticks.

So current base thoughts: Sally is dismissive of Eddie either because he intimidates/scares her on an internalized level, or she’s actively trying to put distance between them for a currently unknown reason. There’s probably a secret third option I haven’t even considered!

#she's just so fascinatingly dismissive of him in a way she isn't with anyone else #she exclusively calls him 'mailman' she brushes him off when he tries to talk about her halloween costume-#i bet if anyone else has so much as Mentioned the word 'pedrolino' sally would be on them abt it #much like how barnaby had to Escape a convo w/ her bc she was that passionate #so what is it with eddie... why does she feel so strongly about him in such a negative way...#ITS KEEPING ME UP AT NIGHT <3 #there is so much to unpack there i feel but i dont have the right scissors yet...#homebogging #welcome home speculation #wh speculation #man i feel so bad for eddie #he's trying to be friendly!!! he's trying to be her friend so hard!!! MAN.#i suspect that if eddie snaps in some way (he probably will) it will likely be in relation to sally #bc no one else treats him that way. like. even like... howdy keeps up an amicable pretense #but sally is straight up out here treating him like a pack mule named 'mailman' and brushing him off with obvious disinterest/frustration #LIKE DAMN. GIRL. WHAT DID HE DO TO DESERVE THIS #i love it. its fascinating. i cant wait to see how that unfolds

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i-loveoldermen · 1 year

Text

KEEGAN P. RUSS X YOUNG READER HEADCANONS

I love Keegan sm, but I'm so upset there's barely any fanfics about him😭 so I decided to write my own to cheer up my own sadness✊

WARNING: minor swearing

You were actually a really cheerful kid, extremely energetic which was really hard for the 141 since they could hardly handle Soap and Gaz.

So having an even younger sergeant just made them want to quit. It honestly felt like they were just babysitters at this point.

But even so, no one could bring themselves to kick you out. (But if Ghost could, he definitely would have)

You're definitely besties with Soap and share everything with him. His like a best friend where you have to tell him every single tea.

"OMG SOAP GUESS WHAT?" "WHAT!?"

Most of the soldiers ignore you guys, as they are already exhausted with their own things.

But there was a certain sergeant who couldn't keep his eyes off you.

Keegan is probably the most annoyed one and if he could beat his co workers, he would most definitely do. Especially Soap (which I believe is for a different reason😇)

But he couldn't bring himself to say anything to you. You were just way cheerful and he didn't want to burst that happy bubble of yours.

Sometimes he even let you off with your insults, which leaves the crew horrified as they're shocked you're still stable and not paralysed yet.

I mean, sometimes your insults just sounds like compliments to him.

"Damn Keegan, you look less dead then usual"

Some of the crew are even certain he has a soft spot for you, the way he's just calm around you and not telling you to shut up must be the whole evidence.

Soap is the one who teases you the most, about how he's sure that Keegan has a crush on you.

"Ohhh, he's staring, look"

As much as no one can read Keegan through his eyes, they definitely can through yours.

The way they kinda squint which shows you're smiling and happy, or how they're half lidded and casted down wards showing your sadness

Keegan might never admit it, but the first thing he had ever noticed about you, was your eyes.

They just shocked him, they looked like an angles eyes to him. He believes they are the prettiest eyes.

Keegan actually looks like the type who looks extremely vicious and dangerous, but is the absolute sweetest to the person the like.

He just looks like the kind who would obey to everything you say, even if it's not him.

"Hey Keegan, can you help me braid my hair?"

I feel like if you were ever whine about wanting to paint his nails, he would give in. (He would actually love the result and keep it painted till they start to fade themselves)

"What the actual fuck is on your nails Keegan?"

I feel like he is so touch-starved that he would use any chance he gets just to hold you.

He feels the most happiest when there's only a small couch in a room and you both have to just squeeze in with each other.

The dude loves sweets.

Once you had actually baked for the whole crew and as you give it out, you noticed how Keegan enjoyed it.

After that you would secretly give him all you bakings (The biggest reason is that if Soap found out, he would be CRUSHED)

Keegan feels threatened whenever he sees you with Soap, like you would just forget Keegan just to hang out with Soap.

But Soap had reassured the intimidating man atleast 100 times that he does not have a single feelings towards you and that you were just like a younger sister to him.

Keegan believed him, but it still didn't stop him from death glaring him.

Keegan will definitely take you out every time he sees you upset.

Most of the time it's a mall, since he knows how much you love looking at random stuff and he's grown fond of each time your grin widens and your eyes glint when you fall in love with a certain cloth, or a make up product.

Keegan is definitely the big spoon. He just loves to wrap himself around you. It makes him certain that you're safe, because your secured.

He loves to watch you sleep, it makes him feel so happy. The way you mouth partens each time you breath makes him feel happy because he knows you feel safe with him.

You looks so beautiful to him in your sleep that he can't help but place a soft kiss on you. But really softly, as he doesn't want to wake you up.

(He has also taken a few pictures of you when you slept, you looked way to gorgeous and it would definitely be a loss)

He obviously told you about the pictures so you don't feel uncomfortable. But you didn't really mind, you just felt slightly embarrassed because you believed you looked weird.

Which Keegan just strangly stared at you, because to him you looked like a goddess.

"What do you mean you look ugly? You look magnificent to me"

I seriously believe he's a guy who won't let you move a muscle on your days off.

Hungry? He'll order something. Wanna watch something? He'll start the projector. You're bored? He's here and has a bunch of games.

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rain-in-the-clouds · 10 months

Text

I think we're alone now.

Mirage x Human F!!Reader. Fluff, Angst, Sumt.

WARNINGS: Mentiones of sexual harassment, sexual harassment, graphic depictions of sexual acts. Minors DNI!!! 18+ only.

Word Count: 7,128

Y/n was busy at work, rushing back 'n forth between different groups of truckers. The dinner was packed when midnight rolled around at a snail's speed, Y/n was slammed with work and slow all at once. Even at the late hour the dinner was hectic, despite it and the truck stop now the only business open. Y/n rushed to get done, attempting to be polite to the last few of her tables, but it mostly came off as exhausted contempt. Her tips by the end of the night were abysmal. But finally she could leave, strolling through the truck stop first.

Y/n walked up and down the few isles, idly singing What's love got to do with it. At the counter Y/n left the cash for her goods and waved the only other worker off. However Y/n didn't notice the eyes watching her as she walked out into the small parking lot. The small area was only lit by two yellowing street lights, there were only a handful of cars in the lot; all old looking and dirty. Not very distinctive considering she didn't know what the other bots' alt modes are. Ultimately Y/n went to each car and tried to examine them, but the dim light did not help her.

Until she came to the end of the line where a mismatched Porsche 911 sat, Y/n peered around, having a sense of unease settled on her, but there was no one. So she scanned the smaller car for anything of significance. Feeling ridiculous she stopped at the hood, a small trickle of light was hitting the car, it was just enough to see the all too familiar Autobot emblem in the center on the hood. A wash of relief hit her.

“Oh thank god.” Y/n sighed with a breath of relief, nearly collapsing onto the hood. A soft hand gliding over the small emblem as she drifts in her thoughts, her thumb circling and running over the small symbol, converting every detail to memory. So lost in thought she didn't register the engine igniting beneath her touch, nor the two men standing behind her.

“Hey there lil'thang.” One of the burley men said while trying to grab Y/n's arm. Surprised, Y/n whipped around pulling her arm from the man's grip, nearly shrieking out. She ended up with her butt and lower back pressed against the hood. Before she could speak or move the second man took a step closer, “Is this your car sugar?” Both men were intimidating, Y/n recognized them from the dinner, they'd tried to grab at her then too.

Y/n's heart was pounding in her chest, but she held what little composer she had left. “Y-yeah it is.” Her tone was confident, but she still stuttered.

“Lookin a little beat up, you fixin it yourself?” The first man was closer now, leaning in more than appropriate. The fake polite conversation had Y/n's skin crawling.

“Yes, it's Nevada, hard to get parts,” Y/n spoke through her bile, each word coming with a bite to it. Y/n however took the opportunity to slide over the hood, her work skirt hiking up ever so slightly, revealing just enough of her legs; the two men moved forward again. “But I've got it handled.” In a rush Y/n slid over the hood and headlight, back stepping to the door, a clammy hand groping the handle; internally pleading they'd let her in.

The two men moved around the front of the car, attempting to close in on Y/n, when the door suddenly opened. Y/n wasted no time climbing into the driver seat, the door slammed shut, the engine roaring fully to life before speeding forward; intentionally almost hitting the two men as the Porsche sped off into the desert.

Not a few miles out and Y/n breathed a deep shaky sign, harshly rubbing her hands over her arms. “Thank you.” Y/n's voice was small, but full of gratitude.

Mirage was silent a bit, the whole experience leaving a bitter taste on his golassa. The fear, anger and relief Y/n went through in less then five minutes had the mech rapidly speeding in an unknown direction, the sand he was whipping up left large clouds in his wake. But hearing that same wash of emotions in Y/n's voice despite her being far from the situation had him slowing down to a near crawl.

“It’s alright.” Mirage's voice came out from his radio, gentle and soft despite the anger in his spark. “I'm sorry…” The mech trailed off, uncertain of what or how to say what he wanted. Y/n smiled warmly at his radio, that unique tenderness returning to her expression.

“It’s okay. Thank you though, it means more than I can say.” Y/n sighed again, but it was more like she was pushing the rest of those negative thoughts and emotions out. “But I don't want to dwell on it.” She said finally but her smile and the light hearted way she taped his dash hinted towards her now relaxed demeanor. Mirage still felt revved up, but listened to her nonetheless.

A beat of silence fell on them, Mirage internally stuck in his slowly dissipating frustration, as if Y/n could see into his helm, she pulled him from his thoughts. “Mirage,” She started, her voice was sweet but mischievous, but to Mirage, his name on her lips lit something in his spark he wasn't prepared for. “Would you like to go to the track tunnels?” Her tone mocked innocence.

Mirage recognized this knowing himself well, “Depending on what that exactly is?” He said mimicking Y/n's tone.

Y/n failed at stifling a giggle. “It's an abandoned half constructed highway. It's used as a racetrack by pretty much anyone in town under 30.” Y/n rolled her eyes at her one words. “It's a good place to blow off steam, but it's still early in the night so you probably can't transform.” She was hopeful the idea would interest the mech, vehemently not wanting to go home just yet.

Mirage paused for a minute, pretending to think it over, but when he made a sharp turn, causing Y/n to slide in the drive seat, joyfully shrinking out in a fit of laughter; they both knew where they were headed.

However Y/n was correct in the assumption that there would be people at the track, several teenagers with their souped-up cars racing around, other small clumps in the tunnels gathered together drinking and partying the night away. But quickly Y/n and Mirage found comfort and release in speeding through the tunnels and around the makeshift concrete track, even making a few rogue jumps here and there. But after a few hours their racing rampage was cut short by Sam and Chromia.

Mirage was rounding a turn, Y/n cheering him on from the driver seat, the two speeding into the longest tunnel for the hundredth time that night when Chromia pulled up behind them with Sam in her driver's seat.

Through the radio Sam called out, “What the hell are you two doing? You were supposed to be back hours ago.” In moments like this he sounded like Charlie.

Y/n's eyes widened for a split second at the radio before she twisted around to see Sam and Chromia a bit behind them, even with Mirage's alt mode being less than perfect, he was still faster. “I had a long day Sam, come on.” She whined at them, despite it being true.

“Yeah Sam, come on.” Mirage mimicked, dramatizing Y/n's tone, effectively teasing her, as her response was to playfully smack the dashboard.

“Not helping Mirage.” Chromia was sturn, “Let's get back.” But similar to Sam it disappeared quickly, finding enjoyment in the late night drive.

In the end Sam and Chromia decided not to tell by wager of a race back to the Bunker. Mirage and Y/n won. The Bunker was dead quiet when they arrived, Sam and Chromia parting ways soon after, leaving Mirage and Y/n in the main 'hanger'.

“That was great.” Y/n said breathlessly, her cheeks dusted red and a bright smile plastered to her lips.

Mirage felt warm all over, something about this night, about her, had him charged up and peaceful all at once. And seeing Y/n punch drunk on adrenaline wasn't helping. “Yeah that was. I haven't gotten to move like that in cycles!” However Mirage didn't feel like he was containing his energy.

Y/n stared up at him, taking a quick moment to really take the mech in, his sterling cerulean optics captivating her. “We should do it again, soon.” Y/n felt emboldened by the rush and pending crash of adrenaline, “But I gotta sleep before my legs give out,” Y/n had started walking backwards towards her room as she spoke, “Goodnight, Mirage.” Y/n spoke a little slower, emphasizing his name, but what made the mech's spark burn was the coy wink and the persing of her lips before she spun on her heel and disappeared into her room; leaving Mirage standing dumbfounded in the hanger.

“Forward for a human.” Mirage thought while he hummed to himself. He watched her bedroom door for a moment, replaying the night in his helm, he smiled to himself, “Goodnight, Y/n.” His voice was quiet, but somewhere he hoped she'd heard him.

— —

Several weeks had passed since that night, in that time Mirage came up with every excuse to spend time with Y/n, whether it be taking her to or from work, or sneaking off during patrols to the track, he couldn't get enough of her. And she was equally as smitten, but neither could find it in themselves, or the "right time" to say as much to each other. However they still had their awkward moments, where even from space their feelings for each other could be seen.

It came to ahead the night Mirage and Chromia were off from patrol, and Y/n and Sam were free from work. The four decided to see a movie at the drive in, deciding on what to see by vote; ending up on Alien. Much to Y/n's dismay, who found it a little odd to see a supposedly scary movie about aliens with aliens, but was also unprepared for horror.

The two bots parked as far back as possible, tuning into the drive-in's frequency, it was a crystal clear night, perfect for this occasion. Sam was in Chromia's drivers seat, happily watching the movie while munching on some snack he'd snuck through. Whereas Y/n, who was curled up in Mirage's seat, was gripping the soft leather of the seat tightly in her hands, her face tucked behind her knees; unfounded terror gripping her imagination with each scene. They'd gotten a little over half way through the movie when Y/n just couldn't watch anymore.

“No. Nope, no no.” She said repeatedly, grabbing for the door handle, but Mirage wouldn't let her out.

“We can leave.” He stated simply, completely understanding and willing to do whatever Y/n needed. He started to back out, switching his radio to speak to Chromia and Sam. “Hey, we're gonna split. See ya back at the Bunker.” Mirage didn't give any explanation nor the two a chance to question the mech before he was driving off.

Half way back to the Bunker Y/n let out an aggravated huff, “Ughhh. Why am I like this.” She spoke with a whine, but the gravel that came with annoyance was still present. Mirage just chuckled, the sound normally a comfort for Y/n just annoyed her more in the moment. “It's not funny Mirage.”

The mech held in another chuckle, “I know but it's okay. You're totally safe, ya know?” A pause happened in their conversation when they arrived at the Bunker, the place was empty save for Prowl who was somewhere in his lab, but the rest of the bots were out on patrol and Charlie working a night shift. The two ended up on the bot sized couch sitting somewhat close together.

“I mean, they're not even real Y/n.” Mirage was trying to comfort her, but the situation baffled him slightly.

“How can you say that when you're real. I'm real. So who's really to say.” Y/n retorted, despite not wanting to be scared by a movie, the goofy conversation was oddly enjoyable.

Mirage went to speak but stopped when he mulled the thought over a moment, he put on his most confident smile and leaned a little closer to Y/n, ��Fair, but I'm right here, I'll keep you safe.” Though it started as a silly teasing argument, Mirage was slipping little things about his feelings into what he said.

Y/n smiled, throwing a hand over her face to hide the stifled laugh. “Their blood is literally acid, if their not vaporized or somethin their blood'll eat right through you. What am I supposed to do then, huh?”

Mirage cocked a brow at her, that devilish smirk that made Y/n's stomach flip appeared on his lips, “So you'd worry about me?” The mech was leaning in closer, his arm was loosely hanging over the back of the couch so he could be covertly closer to Y/n, but now with how the two were sitting his helm was so close to her, he could feel the warmth that radiated from her.

Y/n was blushing madly, the red tinting all the way to her ears. “Mirage!” She playfully shoved at his chassis , knowing it wouldn't move him even if she did try. But all the gesture did was bring them closer together, as her hand landed on the smooth metal she slipped forward, her chest now pressed up against his chassis , faces inches apart. Y/n stopped, all thoughts left her head in that instant, lost in the desire to close the gap between them. Mirage was equally as stunned, unsure what to do, but so certain of what he wanted. He was so close to leaning in and connecting their lips, but at the last second they both pulled away. Y/n scooted away, but not far, mumbling “Sorry, bout that.” As she did.

“No worries.” Mirage smiled softly, the smallest hint of disappointment in his optics. But the moment was still awkward and leaving both of them tensed. Mirage went to move, not necessarily leave, but Y/n stopped him.

“Would you stay…out here?” She wasn't scared anymore, wasn't even thinking about the movie, but internally it was her excuse as to why she asked.

Mirage stopped the second she asked, slipping back into his spot without question. “Yeah. Of course.” He answered as if it was the silliest thing she could have said. The mech grabbed a small blanket just big enough of Y/n from the opposite couch and draped it over her. The two fell into a comfortable silence and soon after into a deep sleep.

— —

Two weeks after the movie and almost kiss, Mirage was on a night patrol while Y/n was at work. The night was moving slowly for both Mirage and Y/n, one passively driving around the town and grater area, and the other running from table to table as if her life depends on it. It was rounding 11pm when a group came in, one Y/n instantly recognized; her friend Kirby and his gang of weirdos.

They came in loud, moving through the whole dinner until they found a too small table for them, but they crammed into the booth nonetheless. The two other servers working avoided them like the plague. Y/n held off seeing them until she had no choice. The group was still in that same booth, Y/n smiled at Kirby, silently pleading for the night to be over.

“Hey Kirby. Guys. What can I do for ya tonight?” Y/n was exhausted, but she fought it. Kirby was all too happy to see Y/n.

“We're doin fabulous Sweets, gonna be heading to the track after this. It'd be cool if you'd come with us.” Kirby coolly slipped the invitation into the conversation. Y/n paused, knowing he and his group would ask, in that moment she was thankful for her job however. Y/n was about to decline, but like she was made out of smoke Jessie appeared next to Y/n.

“The track huh? Well Y/n I think it'd be good for you. Why not take the rest of the night for yourself huh?” Kirby and his gang lit up, now overly excited for such a mundane occurrence. Y/n wanted to retort, wanted to decline, but Jessie leaned in just enough so only Y/n could hear. “Just get them out of here. I don't care if you go, just get them gone and I'll give you a raise.” Jessie clapped her hands loud with a boisterous smile before leaving. This threw all plans Y/n had out the window. Normally when Y/n would get off work Mirage would be waiting for her, but it was hours early and he wasn’t done with patrol yet. Kirby knew before his group walked in that Y/n didn’t have her car today, she had very little to use to get out of the hang out.

Begrudgingly she agreed, first stopping to change out of her work uniform and into the clothes she’d already had in her bag; the outfit she was planning on wearing for Mirage. But she did not want to be at the track in a skirt with Kirby and his friends. In no time after the cluster of friends left, they were at the track tunnels outside of town; some were racing, but Y/n was adamant that she was not getting on the track. Truth be told she didn’t trust but two human’s behind the wheel and neither were there with her. Y/n and Kirby were leaning against his mustang that was parked in the gravel just off the track. Other cars were parked alongside them, some with people standing around and others rocking with intimate activities.

Y/n was standing a little always from Kirby, watching cars go by, mind wandering elsewhere. But Kirby was slowly moving closer, Y/n didn’t notice at first, used to his flirting; but something was off.

A little before midnight Mirage was back in town to do one last drive through before picking up Y/n. However when he got to Jessie’s he picked up no scans of Y/n. Thinking his sensors were bugged out he scanned again, but after three attempts and still no sign of Y/n he knew she wasn’t anywhere in the area and especially not the dinner. The mech pulled towards the building and parked as close as he could before giving it one last ditch try.

Back at the track, Y/n was deep in thought, totally unaware that Kirby was now right next to her, their arms would have been touching but Kirby slung his arm around Y/n's shoulder, pulling her flush against his chest. Both unaware of the Porsche that had quietly pulled in behind Kirby's Mustang.

Kirby was too close, his words fanned over Y/n's face. “So Y/n, I know I'm not the most subtle guy around, but Would you wanna go out sometime? You could always kick my ass in another race.” He was smiling like he'd just won a prize, his arm was loose over Y/n but his hold was firm.

“Oh.” Y/n knew what was coming, but the question and situation had her nerves on edge, “Kirby.” She started trying to take a step away. “As sweet as that is, I'm just-” She cut herself off, unsure of how to say it, how to explain that no human interested her; but she was struck with the unexplainable feeling of being watched by unseen eyes. “I'm not interested in anyone–man, right now. Okay?” Y/n hoped that she was direct enough, but the words felt wrong, like she was being too vague.

Kirby pulled his arm back, still smiling, both hands snakking into his pockets. But he was being too quiet. “It's all cool. Better to try and fail blah blah.” Y/n let out a breath she didn't know she was holding in, returning the smile, happy to be over this situation. However when Y/n looked at Kirby, he was closing the small distance, trying for a kiss. Y/n's eyes shot open wide, automatically she took a large step back, hands out to stop the unwanted advance. Kirby did stop, but not because Y/n was backing away, but because the Porsche's alarm started blaring the loudest it ever had. Both Y/n and Kirby stopped in place.

“Is that your car?” He asked, surprised and clearly annoyed. “Did Sam drop it off?” Kirby was having to yell over the alarm.

“I guess.” Y/n ran to the drivers side, irked that the 'door' wouldn't open. “Look I gotta go, get this figured out!” Y/n was screaming so much her throat hurt, all while struggling with the door. Yet the moment she said that the door violently flew open.

Y/n jumped into the car, having to pretend to mess with the ignition, “Mirage! What are you doing?” The mech didn't answer, instead slamming his door shut, stopping the alarm and revving his 'engine' as hard as he could before spinning out and speeding off and away.

Mirage was pissed. Though he knew he had no reason to be, had no real right to feel so jealous. But seeing that spindly human hug, flirt and try to kiss Y/n, even after she'd clearly rejected him, had his spark flaring red. Mirage was driving so fast that Y/n was pressed into the seat, forces silent by the speed. While Mirage was stuck replaying the less-than-five minutes incident in his helm. What snapped him out of his thoughts were two things; one being the Bunker closing in and Y/n.

“Mirage, what the fuck is going on with you!” She was near screaming again, feeling as if he wasn't listening to her.

The Bunker's door was open, the only ones inside were Sam and Chromia. Mirage slowed just enough to not skid out when he sped into the 'hanger', driving past the two and down the hall to his berth. Both Sam and Chromia shared the same expression of confusion and mild surprise.

Mirage didn't transform until they were out of sight, holding Y/n in one arm pressed against his chassis while he stormed into his berth. Y/n tired to question things again. “What's goin-”

“He tried to kiss you!” Mirage interrupted, for the first time in front of Y/n yelled. His voice filled with so much emotion. Y/n was stunned, never in all the moments that they've shared, had she send him so angry or upset. Y/n assumed it was pent-up anger from everytime Mirage witnessed her being hit on or gawked at. Despite being in his own room, Mirage was still holding Y/n.

“Mirage, I know. I was there. And I didn't want it.” Y/n spoke with a bite and harsher tone then intended. “But why are you freaking out?”

Mirage scoffed, causing Y/n to pull away, as much as she could in his hold. “Why aren't you? Why are you okay with them treating you like that?” Mirage was veering into unknown territory; yes the mech hates seeing random men flirt or try to touch her, that first night in Jessie's lot, he about transformed to bat those two men away. But this was something else. Y/n had captured his whole spark, he was her's, spark, body and soul.

However, Y/n wasn't in the mood to have this argument and bit back, “What's it to you huh? Why should you care?” Her words betrayed her feelings. Truthfully she wanted Mirage to care, to hold her in a loving and compassionate way. Instead there they were, in his berth, needlessly arguing.

Mirage let loose. “Why would I care?” The mech questioned first, his voice harsh. “Of course I care Y/n! I care about you! I care that you're safe a-and happy. Why wouldn't I care about the person I love!” Mirage let the words and feelings out before he could stop himself, but he screwed his mouth shut the instant the words left him, his optics looking anywhere but at the woman in his hold. But his hold on her didn't wane, in fact he held her a bit closer, despite anticipating rejection. All but knowing he was the one being in the universe she wouldn't.

“Mirage.” Y/n spoke so softly she wondered if he could even hear, but slowly he turned his gaze back to her. Y/n summoned all the confidence she had in her, and then some; with the one arm she had around Mirage's neck, pulled herself up, finally connecting her lips to his.

The kiss was soft and full of all the passion, even with the size difference Y/n's lips fit perfectly against Mirage's own. But the kiss was short, as fast as Y/n had done it, she was already pulling away; leaving Mirage wanting more.

The two stared at each other for a long moment, both fully processing what just happened. Neither got far. Mirage pressed their lips together again, his metallic lips slotting against Y/n's. When he pulled away he had the biggest, brightest smile; even the blue light of his spark shined brighter.

“I knew you had a thing for me.” The mech said while wearing a coy smirk. But Y/n knows how to play his game.

“Oh, so you don't want to kiss me again? You can just put me down then.” She spoke with a playful tone while lightly patting his chassis. Though Mirage took it half-seriously, holding her a little closer.

“No. T-That's not what I meant.” His words were rushed, “I'd very very much like to kiss you again.” Mirage, seeing Y/n's kiss swollen lips, had his confidence and cockieness back up; leaning his helm closer so his lips were to her ear, “I'd like to do a lot more than just that, Y/n.” The mech emphasized her name by grazing his lips over her ear and down her jaw. Y/n's whole body was hot, her eyes fluttering shut for a brief second before Mirage pulled away once again; now being the one to leave Y/n wanting more.

However, in that same instant, an intense wave of nervousness stuck her. Calming up, she pulled her arms against her chest. Almost instantly Mirage relaxed his hold, moving to his berth. The mech set Y/n down gingerly, sitting next to her in the same motion.

“I'm sorry Y/n. I-I didn't I…” Mirage's mind jumped to all the unwanted advances Y/n had gone through in the short time he'd known her, comparing himself to those men. Y/n silenced him before he could spiral further by wrapping her arms back around his neck and pulling him into a hug.

“Mirage it's not like that. I love you too.” Y/n spoke her feelings to his chassis, holding onto him tightly. The mech returned the embrace, gently wrapping an arm around her frame.

Y/n pulled back a bit, but didn't let go, “I'm just-” Her face began to heat up, embarrassment flooding her, but Mirage was listening earnestly. “I just..lack…experience…” Y/n was internally smacking herself, her words failing her at the worst of times. “Sexually.” She said finally, a bit too loud. “A-and it's not that I don't wanna, in fact I'd very much like to-” Y/n cut herself off abruptly, looking at Mirage, he held the same expression as the night of the movie. Y/n's stomach flipped before pooling into a deep heat in her core, her mouth suddenly gone dry; a sharp quiet inhale was all she could muster.

Mirage brought his servo up, ghosting over her head before two digits swiped Y/n's hat from her head, she let out a gasp that had Mirage bursting with laughter. Y/n pushed at him, “Not funny, Mirage.” But he refused to let her go.

“I's just teasin ya.” The mech spoke through his laughter, quickly stifling it all together. “Seriously,” Suddenly Mirage was very stern, holding Y/n's attention. “You don't have to do anything you don't want to, and I never want you to feel obligated to do anything.” He paused to pull Y/n a bit closer, lowering his helm to her forehead. “I'm happy if you're happy, everything else is a bonus.” Y/n's lips bloomed a smile so warm and soft, barely moving to quickly peck his face plate.

“Thank you, Mirage.”

— —

Y/n stared a second longer into his cerulean optics before planting another kiss on his lips. This one much longer, full of passion, desire and yearning. The only reason Y/n pulled away was to gasp for air. Mirage laughed at that too, it subsided at the sight of her flush face, sultry expression and swollen lips.

She leaned back in, pressing her face to his, “I do want to do more with you.” Y/n spoke clearly, confirming her consent and intent. “I'm just not sure how this'll work physically.” She said while gesturing between them.

Mirage simply smiled, a servo soothingly rubbing her back. “It'll work.” He said with his signature cocky grin. “Trust me. I've given it a lot of thought.” It took so much for him not to laugh at his own joke. It turned out to be easy, Y/n gasped in response, whether real or playful Mirage took the opportunity and captured her mouth with his. Still he asked for permission, by darting his glossa over her lower lip. Y/n gladly let him explore her mouth.

The mech was entranced by the feeling of her petal soft lips and the heavenly sweet taste of her. Y/n found the metallic taste and smooth texture of him intoxicating. Mirage moved a servo down her back till he was cupping her ass, gently squeezing and groping, a moan was caught in her throat. His other servo came up to her waist, dressing up and down, a stray digit drifting over her chest. Only separating so Y/n could breath, Mirage placed both servos on her hips, gently guiding her to lie down. But Y/n stopped, sat at the edge of his berth and kicked off her shoes. She went to pull her shirt off but was halted by Mirage's servo seizing her arm.

The mech's lips were to her ear again, “Let me do that.” His voice was low and heavy. Experimentally he nipped at her ear, kissing and licking his way down her neck, stopping at the crook to bite just hard enough to leave a mark but not enough to hurt. The action and sensation had another whiny, wanting moan slipping from Y/n. Mirage again guided her to the center of his berth, laying her down all the while showering her in kisses.

Mirage stopped to appreciate Y/n below him. Her hair falling around her head and face, skin soft, warm and flushed. He started with her shirt, gliding his servos over the soft mounds of her chest, teasingly squeezing before slipping down further. His digits sliding under the black fabric, pausing to trace along her pant line, feeling her soft skin; drinking in every little sensation and motion she made. Y/n wasn't wearing an undershirt of any kind, her chest bare for the mech hovering above her. Mirage's optics were a blaze with desire, his glossa darting out to swipe over his lips. He asked for permission one last time, his gaze locked on Y/n face. She nodded impatiently.

Without hesitation the mech cupped her breast in his servo, the cool metal perking the small bud of nerves. The mech tentatively licked his glossa over her nipple, soft whimpers and moans escaped Y/n as Mirage explored her chest and her sensitivities. When he finally made his way down to her pants it took everything in him not to tear them to threads off with his denta.

At an agonizingly slow pace, the mech peeled Y/n's pants down her legs, not wasting time, pulling her underwear off in the same motion. Y/n's first instinct was to snap her legs shut, but she was comfortable, warm and filled with a sense of security, so she stayed put, watching the stunning mech through half lidded eyes.

Mirage spread her legs, fully settling between them. He took a moment to kiss and stare at her center, causing a shudder to rock through her. Slowly Mirage kisses up her thigh, nipping the soft flesh, licking the small mark he'd made. With his optics welded to her wet core, he slid his glossa over her folds, her legs already beginning to shake. Lapping at her increasing wetness, optics drifted shut as he fell into the pure taste and pleasure of Y/n.

Mirage was fully between Y/n's legs, flat on his chassis with his legs out behind him. The mech had found a rhythm of his liking. His glossa pressed between her wet folds and licked up to the oversensitive bud of nerves, swirling the metal appenday around until she was near crying; each time he'd flick his glossa over her clit she had to suppress the volume of her moans, bucking her hips into the mech's mouth. But each time she'd buck or push against him, trying to chase her release, Mirage would pull back just enough to leave her whimpering; her eyes became pricked with tears of ecstasy. Deciding she was ready for more, Mirage spread her legs a little further apart until they were over his shoulders, her feet propped up on his wheels; with his servos gripping her ass and thighs, he used his thumbs to gently spread open Y/n's weeping hole, all the while he hadn't stopped. The mech's optics drifted from her pleasure contorted expression to her center, embarrassment floods Y/n again, her body shaking and pussy dripping with want.

Y/n was thrown further into the waves of ecstasy by Mirage's glossa sliding past her entrance and all the way into her tight hole. Y/n let out a long and loud moan, the sudden sensation had her quaking, turning her into a whimpering, moaning mess. Y/n lost all composer, forgoing holding her sounds back as Mirage relentlessly fucked her with his glossa; his face plate shinny with her slick. Y/n's whole body was sticky with sweat, her mind blank, eyes barely able to stay open, always falling back to Mirage's optics, who was watching her every move, expression and sound. Faster then she was expecting, her climax was fast approaching. Her entire body began to shake, her hands near frantically searching for something to grip onto, settling on two of Mirage's digits that were curled around either hip. Mirage soothingly ceressed and messaged her soft hips and thighs, coaching her through her orgasm. When the knot in her core finally snapped, the moan that erupted from Y/n had Mirage turning merciless; holding her hips and thighs firmly in place, forcing her still while his glossa darted in and out of her. Sliding from his intake all the way to the bottom of her core. Mirage didn't remove himself until he was satisfied she'd cum completely and fully. Y/n gasped at the sudden empty feeling, whining at the loss.

The mech licked her clean, joyously overstimulating her. Y/n was a puddle underneath Mirage, his large frame caging her in completely. Mirage gazed down at Y/n, totally and unabashedly adoring every part of her. Her mind was blank, fucked silent. Mirage's optics dragged up and down Y/n's body, watching the fast rise 'n fall of her chest, stopping again at her center. Mirage was sitting on his knees, tall above Y/n, he was thinking on all the things he wants to do, but stuck on what to do next. Staring at her weeping core, the mech's gaze shifted briefly to his servo before zeroing back in on her. Y/n was recovering, her body slowly returning to it's medien; her attention drawn to the mech between her legs, who was wearing a devilish look on his helm.

Mirage let his mischievous curiosity get the better of him; with one servo he again held Y/n's hip firmly in place, with his free servo he coated his middle digit in her slick. Circling her clit with his pad, gliding down till he was lined up and slowly pushing in. Y/n's eyes flew open, a deep groan roaring from her chest as Mirage pushed his digit all the way in, bottoming out till his palm was flat against her. Y/n was drunk on pleasure, rutting her hips into the mech's servo. Mirage watched her face, her eyes rolling back and closed, her mouth lulling open as moan after moan fell from her.

The mech lowed his helm to her, scraping his lips over her face, hot breath and smooth metel cool on her skin. “Ah-uh, that's my job Lil'Blu.” His voice was full of list, low just for Y/n as he pumped his digit into her. The new nickname combined with the thick digit buried inside her had her fluttering tightly around the smooth but ribbed digit. She cluthed onto his arm, her head thrown back, his name falling from her lips in a slurred half mumbled manor. Mirage wore a sultry smile that shorn down at her, kissing his way up and down her body, whispering sweet dirty things to her; “You're so good for me. Love the way you sound for me.” What pushed her over the edge was Mirage, “I'm gonna fuck you like this every night, Lil'Blu.” Before he bit her neck again. The moan that started deep erupted like a scream from Y/n, clamping down around his digit, but he didn't stop, his digit and servo covered in her slick juices. While he fingered her through another climax, the mech let his spike out, positioning himself so his spike was above his servo but sweetly rubbing against her oversensitive clit, with a few thrust of his hips his spike was also coated in her wetness, in one motion he removed his digit and lined up his spike.

When his optics came to her face he thought his spark would stop. Y/n was looking at him in a way no being ever had, her eyes were somehow as bright as his, her lips parted, but a welcoming smile was still presnt. Y/n threw her arms up hoping to wrap them around his neck, but she only reached his chassis, with a soft gaze he silently chuckled; but he lowed himself so she could be holding onto him, their lips connecting into a light passion filled kiss. Mirage was a cage for Y/n, his whole body near covering her, using the new closeness he slowly pushed his spike into her; Y/n braking the kids to gasp, wrapping her legs around his hips locking him in place, her face buried in his neck.

It was slow and deeply intamate, from how he was holding onto Y/n, to how carefully he entered her. With enough patients he was able to get their his flush together. Y/n was about lost in pleasure, holding onto Mirage like a lifeline to reality, but she reveled in the feeling of the mech, his body, so intracate and strong, she felt safe. Mirage had been holding back for so long, watching, teasing and wondering, finally connected to Y/n in the most intamate way, it wasn't long before he was pounding into her. “Feel so good Y/n~.” Mirage was whispering and whimpering to her, his words barely formed as he couldn't contain his own pleasure. “Wanted you for s' long.”

Mirage's thrust were becoming irratic, losing rhythm as his own overload began. His release was long, pushing Y/n over the edge of her final climax. Still holding her close, Mirage vented a gust of hot air, effectively warming Y/n's legs, before he collapsed beside her. The two lay together for sometime recovering. Y/n blinking away the few pleasure made tears, while Mirage hid his spike back behind his modesty plate. Recovering faster then Y/n, the mech sprung up from the berth and left his private room, leaving a still punch-drunk Y/n confused. Not five minutes and he returned, he had with him a towel, two pillows and a blanket for Y/n. He was very serious when he said he'd be there for her.

While they cuddled, Y/n laying on top of Mirage, a pillow tucked under her head and stomach. Like this she could fall asleep while staring at Mirage. The mech had switched off the light and pulled the blanket over Y/n, but before she started to sleep, a thought hit her.

“Mirage?”

“Hmm.”

“How did you find me? By the way.” Mirage chuckled softly.

“I asked Jessie.” His tone was tired but still teasingly matter-of-factly.

Y/n popped up on her elbows, “Seriously?” Her expression and tone skeptical.

“Seriously. I just used my holoform. Ya know a hologram-humany-me. Told 'er I was your friend, 'nd she told me where you went.” He never dropped the tone despite his speech being slurred by exhaustion.

“No way.” Y/n gawked at the mech. “I didn't know you could do that.” Y/n smiled to herself, imagining what a "human" Mirage would look like. “You'll have to show me sometime.” She spoke while curling up on his chassis, close to drifting into sleep.

“I will. Promise.” He adjusted slightly so he had a servo resting on her lower back.

“I love you Mirage.” Her voice was small and tired, but the smile seen only lit from the light of his spark had Mirage leaning down for one final peck.

“I love you too, Y/n. Get some sleep.” The two fell fast asleep, together in each other's arms.

#transformers #mirage #mirage x reader #mirage fanart #fanfic #fan art #digital art #one shot #transformers rotb #transformers rise of the beasts #transformers x reader #transformers x human #fluff #angst #this was so so much fun #I love writing for Mirage omg #rotb mirage x reader #Mirage x f!reader #my art

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