#I can be more specific but my last few appeals have gotten fuck all so perhaps I shall cast a wide net.

[boombox-fuckboy]

Looking for media recs. Any format. Any genre that isn't romance or erotica.

[just2bubbly]

I have got my inbox littered with angst request and I'm on a fluff high for sometime now- so here's fluff!!

Masterlist

It's All Kismet

Ship: Kaider

Words: 2.2k

Genre: Fluff

Kai's Perspective:

Kai sat at the side table that separated the living space from the kitchen, writing the speech for the Commemorative Ceremony of Kese Peace, consumedly lamenting his career choice.

Working as a publicist for a Senator was wild already. Still, when your employer had a knack for causing a famous racket every other week it was troublesome enough. However, the paycheck was way more appealing than the work and that's one reason Kai has been loyal to his job for years. 

While he worked with his diplomatic skills to say 'It ain't necessarily so fucked up' to make a clearance for another of Truss's events, his girlfriend rummaged through the kitchen attempting to make a meal. 

Thud, came a loud noise of utensils crashing, causing Kai to stir from his work.

"Are you okay, Cin?", he asked, eyes skimming above his laptop screen.

"Oh-- don't worry, just being clumsy," she replied hurriedly. 

"Be careful also let's not have an adventure tonight," he joked, before suggesting, "We could order in if you want," general concern for his meal heightened.

"Stuff it, Kai. I can cook decent!" She exclaimed, slamming one of the cabinet doors to add to the theatrics.

"Tell that to the last time you almost burnt the kitchen down," he sass-ed.

"Fuck you," she yelled back, making him laugh as he continued to scrutinize his draft, the conversation forgotten. There wasn't much noise from the kitchen later. Up until there was a clamorous sound of glass shattering.

Kai was out of his seat, stepping into the kitchen, "Cinder I said no adventure," he said, trying to take in any harm that might have occurred.

Shards of glass lay all around but Cinder paid little heed to it as she was enraptured by something inside the cupboard. He bent down to her level taking in her pale face, and asked, "Why do you look like you saw a ghost?"

No sooner had he spoken those words, than he saw the object that had made his lover so dumbstruck. 

"Oh," he says, his mind trying to work up on how much he has fucked it up. His faint outburst, seemed to have snapped her out of her state as she bellowed, "Just oh, Kai?"

"What else should I say?" He countered, eyes boring holes into the dark blue box.

She spun around frowning at him, brows furrowing like they always do when she tried to keep her words in check, "Maybe doing a decent job of hiding the engagement ring?"

"You never know if it's an engagement ring," he reacted, trying to find a way out of the mishap he orchestrated. 

"Then why hide it in the corner of a kitchen cupboard?"

Kai looks down, realising how hiding the ring in the flour cabinet was a poorly coordinated decision. He had always been clueless about keeping things hidden from his loved ones. Yet, he didn't want the ring to end up in the socks drawer, that was too cliche for his liking. When he had the idea, he was quite convinced that Cinder wouldn't voluntarily go looking for stuff in the kitchen; if she ever did he was always around to ensure that she didn't look into that specific area of cabinets. 'Look where that got me, well planned Kai,' he thought. 

Coming out of his daze he chooses to take some sense of control as he says, "Did you open it?"

"Do you think my intrusive thoughts would stop me from opening a velvet box?", she rebutted, lost in her thoughts. 

Silently Kai wondered how she had imagined the proposal to be, he knew this wasn't what he would have planned if he had gotten something less abrupt. He had bought it a few weeks ago when he had noticed how she had lingered on a particular ring at Cress's ring selection. It was a thoughtless decision, but he wanted Cinder to have what she wanted, so he got the ring and didn't worry about proposing immediately.

"Well, can you forget that you saw it?", he asked meekly. Truth be told, there wasn't any escape unless Cinder agreed to play pretend alongside him. 

Cinder glanced at him and seemed to take in his defeated demeanour as she realised she was being too blunt with him. She moved closer to him, enveloping her hands around him, "Kai," she softly whispered, lips brushing lightly over his knuckles, "Look at me- It's not your fault, just a silly mistake."

He buried his face along the sleeve of her sweater as he hummed along in disappointment, "I wanted it to be memorable."

"I believe it's quite memorable," she teased, kissing the top of his head.

"You know what I mean," he mumbled, looking down as his fingers tried to pick at her sweater.

"Well, you can still ask me out," she pointed, Kai could feel her heartbeats smoothening out now that she was past the earlier adrenaline.

"Now you would be pressurised to say yes", he jokes causing Cinder to snort unceremoniously. As the laughter dies in her throat, she starts to draw circles on his arm.

"I didn't see the ring properly," she admits after a stretch of silence.

"You are going to be the one wearing it. I'm sure you will get plenty of chances to take it in."

"Ask me out!", she orders, removing the hand that was supporting him, causing him to lose his balance.

"You mean now?", He asks incredulously. He doesn't get a verbal answer as she slightly nods her head.

"Don't you want it to be a surprise?"

"It was always coming. Why not do it right now?" She counters.

With that said, Kai was on his knees, looking into her eyes, the words he was to say died on his lips as he caught the twinkle in Cinder's eyes.

He picks himself up as he chants something that resembles a yes. A plan forming in his mind, he might not be able to make it an ideal surprise but he would make sure to make it lovely. 

"Let's do it. We will make dinner and the proposal might happen somewhere along the way- I would like some element of surprise," he announces, hands moving mindlessly as he looks for his phone.

Finding it on the coffee table, he orders Cinder's favourite flowers from a shop two lanes down. Spends a couple more bucks on a strawberry sago since he won't have enough time to make desserts.

As he enters the kitchen, Cinder has already cleaned the scattered pieces of glassware-

"What do you want to eat?"

"Do you want to order in or cook something?"

"Maybe cook tteokbokki, it's quick to make and we could have it with some leftover side dishes," Cinder offers as she rummages through the refrigerator.

"Aren't you being too eager love?" He teases and Cinder never the one to back down from a challenge winks back, "I'm looking forward to the after."

He chuckles, capturing her slightly chapped lips as he whispers, "I wanted it to be something iconic."

Brushing her nose against his, she tugs him closer and says, "You make 'iconic' tteokbokki. If Truss ever lets you go, you will give all cooks a run for their money."

He smiles, "If Truss riles me up again this month. I promise I'd change professions."

Cinder chuckles and shakes her head mumbling Truss would never let Kai walk out of his job.

His lips are smiling on their own accord, as he boils the pot with his ingredients and meanwhile cleans the living room for a better atmosphere- the papers that had been flying all around before had been neatly arranged and stuffed in some corner of the cupboard for later use. The interior shifted so that it could make a temporary dinner table lookalike.

"Do you want me to change?" Cinder asks, standing in the hallway- her tall frame visible as she continues to cook.

Taking in her mismatched outfit of a faded maroon sweater- that she had stolen from Iko some years ago-hanging over her shoulders that came down to mid-thigh, paired with worn-out khaki pants, she had never looked prettier to Kai, "Only if you want to."

"Are you going to change?" she asked instead, taking in his attire that was no better than hers.

He was wearing denims, with a pale blue Oxford shirt that had been wrinkled in all places. Being so caught up in his work, he had chosen not to change after he had returned from work.

"Only if you want to," he repeated.

"You can be so indecisive, Kai," she groaned as she walked back into the kitchen, "Let's not change," she decides for the two.

Kai nodded, true, he could have used a shower but changing into pretty clothes wasn't his agenda. Clearing mess, lighting one of his favourite scented candles, checking Cinder used the right amount of sauce and later searching for a vase to keep flowers, were priorities on his list.

The bell rang as he was almost done making their living room fancier and if the whiff of garlic was any sign, Cinder was probably done with her creation too.

"I'll take the door and shoo inside now, I will call you once everything is set," he said.

He hurriedly set everything as Cinder cribbed every other minute about how long he was taking and how she couldn't take it anymore.  

"Kai, what's taking you so--" the creak of the door prevented her from asking the same question.

"My impatient lover, the home is ready for you!" he declared, trying to imitate a royal bow. Cinder following his action, shook her head affectionately and gave her hand away in greeting which he kissed in courtesy, his eyes never losing focus, causing Cinder to flush herself red.

"Lead the way, my to-be betrothed," she announced, looping her hands with his as they walked silently.

He could feel Cinder inhale sharply as they came before the makeshift dinner table, lined with pale pink chiffon and bow-tied candles, and their favourite music playing in the background.

As he sat before her, she whispered, "This is so beautiful." Her voice was laced with emotions that Kai didn't want her to express yet, they couldn't become a sobbing mess before the dinner even began.

"You have to cry when I go down on my knees, crying now would be a sign of poor cooking," he tells her, squeezing her hand to ground her.

"Aiiy, don't make fun of my cooking," she quipped, smiling at him as he served.

Their voices took over as they talked about everything, from Truss's shitshow to Cinder's boringly genius colleagues, the neighbour's house party they attended last week, and the newly opened restaurant they wanted to try, they gossiped like two fools for so long that it was well past midnight now.

"Hypothetically speaking, let's say I tell you that the spoonful of sago you just ate included the ring, how would you react?" He asks, sounding all serious. This joke doesn't sit right with Cinder as she chokes on her bite and ends up wheezing.

"You really can't take a joke!" He exclaims when she has stopped coughing and earns himself a slap," Who jokes like that?!"  

"Oh c'mon, you looked so ready for a ring to pop up for the last 30 minutes. I had to make a joke, how could you not feel a ring being chewed," He reasoned.

"If it wasn't for you proposing, I would think you wanted to kill me," she jested, and adamantly continued, "Also, ask me before my nerves force me to ask you!" She joked, a tad too seriously.  

"Cinder," he says, a long pause following before he finally asks, "Do you have a ring?"

That question seems to have startled her, as she stares at him stunned- "For fucks sake, Kai. I love you." She exclaims and goes bashing into the adjacent bedroom, leaving Kai behind to make sense of her words.

"I wanted you to have this moment," she says, coming closer with every word, a velvet box in hand. Her long fingers weave together with his own, "I bought it last year- when you went on that business trip to Turkey. Kept it with Iko until yesterday, I knew you would find it at home, just like I found yours. I was going to ask you this coming Saturday," she explained.

It was Kai's turn to be speechless, the long silence broken with his laughter, "Aren't we so stupidly in love?" He says, Cinder agreeing as they fall onto the couch. Cinder on top of him, her torso nestled in his arms, legs a tangled mess.

He isn't sure who leans in first, but their lips meet halfway, and Kai can hear his heart pounding in his ears. Her fingers grazed through his hair, trying to pull out knots from deep within it. He thrummed his fingers along her cheek, as she sunk her teeth, eliciting a moan.

As they tore apart, their lungs begging for oxygen, Kai couldn't wait any longer as he whispered, lips barely hanging above hers, "Marry Me, Cinder", and she closed the remaining distance, a yes said very much inside his mouth.

__

A/N: Honestly speaking, this is largely influenced by this fic from fanfiction.net, wanted to write a proposal fic and perhaps it's my first time writing a modern AU- onto writing for a while now! Leave your love <3

tagging: @gingerale2017 @salt-warrior @slmkaider @cinderswrench @cindersassasin @kaider-is-my-otp @fangirlforever0704 @therealkaidertrash21

[sehyix]

November 21, 2022

I'm the quality control auditor for a higher-education institution that trains professionals in specialized careers - like becoming idols or managing high-risk portfolios at financial banks and corporations. I'm walking through a warehouse to find one of the trainees that recently debuted over the last few weeks and coach him for his behavior. He debuted rather quickly and was wildly successful, but the institution felt that he was acting too cheeky and flirty, too fast. He's unloading boxes from a delivery and stacking them in a different area - it's something all trainees are required to continue working while they finish school. The girl he's flirting with books it when she sees me walk up with my clipboard.

I tell him that he's being warned about how he was acting overly flirty and goofy during the last broadcast his group had recently had, and that he needs to remember he's still new. He's intimidated by me but still a little aloof about it, and upon seeing the look on my face stops chuckling. "Noonim," he starts with a little bow, "I apologize for upsetting you all with my behavior. The thing is that I was looking up to You-hyung and emulating him because he's really popular with the fans that way. I assumed I could do it (flirt with the girls) because, You-hyung senior does it quite often and he's been goofy since he debuted." He brings you up directly because it's somewhat known that we are a couple, and possibly appealing to my jealousy? But I'm not deterred nor entirely sure if he knew that we were dating.

"You can't compare yourself to the peers that came before you. I'm aware that You is very popular for being a goofball and making that his charm but you are not him. You're also brand new and haven't built up the reputation to back up your behavior. So make sure you're acting right for the future. You'll know when it's alright for you to let loose. Now clean up this mess and get back to work." I point around to the mess of boxes that he should have had cleaned up but was busy flirting on the clock over. He bows in apology and gets to work. I make my way over across campus to meet up with the Dean and walk into his office. I tell him what the trainee has told me about emulating you and the Dean's look is grim. "Well then, You also needs to be spoken to," he tells me, glancing at me above his spectacles. Again, undeterred because this is my fucking job and I'm a professional, I nod. "I absolutely agree with that," I tell him wholeheartedly. He's staring me down with a "that's your man but I need you to do what I hired you for" look. He nods in acceptance and I bow my head to take my leave. You're more trouble than you realize, I think to myself.

Outside the building, I walk down the steps to shoo some students that were dawdling from getting to their class. They panic and run off at the sight of me as I notate the time off the clock tower in the distance. Your chuckling reaches my ears first from behind me before you try to wrap your arms around me and I stop you with a look. "Oooh, that looked so cute and powerful how people fear and listen to you," you compliment me and flash me a lopsided smile. "And you too, I've gotten complaints about you and taking your goofing off too far. Don't think you're getting off the hook just because I'm dating you. I have a career and reputation to uphold. Us isn't going to affect that," I scold you and you pout. "Okay babe," you whine, "how can I help?" I tell you to come with me to audit my next assignment so you can see how I work, and specifically learn what I'm looking for and how I guide and discipline the company's students and graduates. You happily agree to hang out with me this way and dress up in your finest business suit. We make our way over to a bank just off-campus that services the university and high-risk clients. Before we enter, you crack a joke about how you probably couldn't convince them that you were a business suit & tie professional and I give you a death glare, stopping you in your tracks. "Follow my lead, stay quiet, and don't make any jokes," I tell you before we enter.

The alarm goes off as I'm chatting with one of our graduates, that so happens to be a witch and was telling me about the real inner corruption and workings of the bank. You were standing behind her wide-eyed that no one there questioned your authenticity or credentials as she dropped bomb after bomb about the bank's secrets.

Hours later, my friend that met Dae in real life while I was dreaming this with you, tells me he asked her if she was in Mexico. Neither of us understand where that comes from, but seeing as I'm Latina my alarms are flashing off. Maybe it was a mistake? Maybe it was a coincidence? At this point, I don't even know anymore.

[myherowritings]

order’s up!

— Osamu gets a big order of some rather strange rice ball combinations an hour before closing. He doesn’t expect that he’d find the customer who ordered to be so damn cute.

pairing: miya osamu x reader word count: 2,387 genre: fluff, post manga timeskip

a/n: first haikyuu fic and aHH it was so fun to write ,, i didn’t expect osamu to be my first but here we are and tbh i am not mad~ ;) FJSDHKJ hope u enjoy!!

“One unagi onigiri to go-- Your order’s ready!”

A middle-aged man stood up from his seat at the waiting area and headed over to the counter, thanking Osamu for the fresh onigiri and making brief small talk. As the man left, Osamu looked at the customer next in line, thankful there was only one person in here so close to closing time.

“I’ll be with you in a moment,” he stated when your gaze met his, lips quirking up to give his best customer service smile.

You nodded with a warm smile of your own before looking down at the phone in your hands, murmuring what he thought sounded like “salmon, plum, beef, extra green onions, heavy on the seasoning.” Now, he liked to think there were no rules to onigiri, but part of him did hope you wouldn’t ask for all those ingredients in one gigantic, imbalanced rice ball. Maybe you were reciting a large number of individual orders.

He shrugged. Money was money, and all onigiri was good onigiri when made with his special Miya love. Miya love that was specific to Osamu in particular, of course. Atsumu could never recreate it even if he tried-- Not that he ever tried. The day he tried in something other than volleyball would be the day Osamu said he was the worst onigiri chef in Japan.

In other words, never.

Osamu hustled over to the cash register and you took that as your cue to step forward, hands fidgeting with your wallet and cellphone.

He smirked to himself in silent amusement. A shy one, were you? By now he had lost count of all the nervous and fidgety costumers he had gotten at his shop, but to allow them to stay that way simply wouldn’t do. If his patrons weren’t 100% comfortable in his care--well, as comfortable they could be in an onigiri shop--it meant he was doing his job wrong.

As the owner of Onigiri Miya he wanted to make sure every customer would leave with a smile and a desire to come again soon. That was how he built rapport and got so many regulars after all.

“I can take your order whenever you’re ready,” said Osamu in a slow pace, encouraging you to slow your rhythm as you tapped your fingertip restlessly against your protective phone case. Were you in a hurry? You seemed rather antsy, but he went on. “There’s no rush here.”

There was less than an hour until closing and he figured you would be the last customer of the day-- Meaning there was no reason not to slow down. As much as Osamu appreciated how lively his hometown could be, he also enjoyed quieter moments like these.

Not everything had to be so loud. Not everything had to be moving so fucking fast all the time. And he learned that in some instances, he could just control the pace himself.

Your worried chatter brought him out of his musing. “Are you sure? Because I know you close soon and I really didn’t want to come in so late but the guys are still down over a loss and said this was their favorite comfort food,” you said, eyebrows furrowed in a tell of concern. “It’s kind of a big order, so if you need to start cleaning up for closing I can just go to another store-- Sorry for imposing!”

He blinked. He thought he just said there was no rush to imply he wasn’t worried and you shouldn’t be either, but you didn’t seem to pick up on that.

“Hey, you’re not imposing,” Osamu soothed, somewhat alarmed at your apprehension. “You said someone was down over a loss? You on a sports team?”

Losing sucked. Osamu knew this firsthand.

Sure, in hindsight it wasn’t the worst thing in the world, but while it could sure feel that way sometimes. If it was bad enough, it could take a few days to really get over and grow from it. So hearing that Onigiri Miya was someone’s comfort food that could help cheer them up on days like those… That certainly gave him reason to puff his chest up a little more.

“Yeah! Well, kind of.” You moved your head side-to-side as if unsure of your answer. “I help assist the volleyball team at my university. It’s my last year in school and I’m sure all of the other fourth years are bummed too.” Catching the small frown on your face, you stopped yourself before it spread, clearing your throat. “But it’s okay! At least we all had fun. And now they’ll be getting some of their favorite food to cheer them up-- If you’re still taking orders, that is…?”

He nodded. “‘Course I am.” Osamu flashed you a grin intended to make your worries disappear. “What kinda store owner would I be if I couldn’t make your team their pick-me-up food?”

The two of you shared a look before you tore your gaze away, biting your lower lip to hide your smile.

“Thank you, then,” you murmured, unlocking your phone to what appeared to be a notes app.

Osamu picked up his pen with a short hum. “Ready to take your order when you are.”

“Right.” You stared at your screen in concentration before listing off what you had written. “Can I have three salmon onigiris with green onions, two umeboshi and mentaiko with light seasoning and ginger, one tempura and unagi with green onions and sesame seeds and heavy seasoning, two…”

As he noted your orders, some arguably stranger than others--not that he should be one to judge, what with his own peculiar preferences--he made a mental note of how cute your voice sounded and tucked it away in the depth of his mind. Was cute the word for it? He wasn’t exactly sure, but he guessed that sounded okay enough. There was something about hearing you talk that made Osamu want to hear more, even if it was just a list of onigiri ingredients.

He huffed. Weird.

When you finished he repeated back your order, affirming it was all correct.

“Great, so I’ll be with you in about 15 to 20 minutes with your order ready,” he informed as he held the paper with the dishes he had to make. “You can have a seat at one of the tables ‘til I return.”

You nodded at his words but hesitantly opened your mouth. “Erm-- Wait!”

He looked back at you, mere steps away from the cooking area.

“Is it just you working at this hour?” you asked, standing with your hands folded behind your back as you craned your neck.

“Yeah, we don’t get many late customers on a Tuesday night so I’m the only one closin’ today.” Osamu gave you a curious once-over. Bright eyes, nervous yet playful smile, cute outfit-- Damn, he sure was using the word cute a lot today. All in relation to you nonetheless. “Why?”

“Are you sure the order isn’t too big for you in this hour?” Once again, you were fretting. He reckoned he ought to teach you some relaxation techniques and tips of how to be less...selfless. “Do you need some, uh, help?”

The corner of Osamu’s lip twitched upwards. Help? What were you planning on doing if he said yes? Learn the basics of food safety and onigiri-making in less than 20 minutes so you could assist him in making your order?

Something told him that was, in fact, what you were ready to do.

Cute.

“Stop stressin’, sweetheart,” he said with a tsk, not bothering to hide his amused grin. “I’ve handled bigger orders than this. You just rest your pretty little head and I’ll be finished before you know it.”

Though you still looked concerned, you nodded and sat down, probably figuring you would be more of a hindrance in his onigiri-making flow than anything else.

“Don’t miss me too much-- And don’t even think of saying sorry or anythin’ like that!” His tone was teasing but he meant what he said. You were a customer at Onigiri Miya and he wanted no patron of his to be worrying this much if he could do anything to help it. “The store’s still open and I’ve no issue taking your order. ‘Kay?”

You blinked. “Okay. I… Thank you, uh, Miya-san.”

“Just Miya’s fine.”

“Right. Miya. Thank you.”

He sauntered off into the kitchen to get started with your order and as he went through making your onigiri, he hoped you wouldn’t still be feeling bad about a big order that wasn’t even that big compared to others he got. Besides, you had already paid for the order. There was no point worrying after the transaction went through.

Osamu soon made his way down the list of rice balls and, just like he promised, popped his head out of the kitchen along with three, full takeout containers in record time.

“For the cutest customer here tonight-- Order’s up!”

You perked up at the mouthwatering smell of his onigiri, pressing a hand to your stomach as you hummed. “I’m the only customer here tonight, but since your food smells so yummy I will choose to let that comment slide.”

Holding the bag of takeout in front of his, Osamu smirked at your surprisingly steadfast composure. You didn’t get flustered at his unabashed compliment like he thought you would, and for some reason that made you seem even more appealing.

As you accepted the order, he quipped, “Only customer here or not, you’re still the cutest.”

You wrapped your fingers around the handle of the takeout bag, the edge of your pinky brushing against his thumb. “Hmm, then-- I guess you’re definitely the cutest worker here tonight, even though it is by default.”

Osamu laughed, both in amusement and in happiness after finally getting you to feel comfortable in his shop.

“A compliment’s a compliment and I’m not above being the cutest by default,” he said with a lazy drawl, watching as you set the onigiri bag on the counter in front of you while easing into a conversation with him.

“As if you would ever have to win by default. You seem much too handsome and talented for that.”

It sounded like you were flirting. Were you flirting? He noted the mischievous glint in your eyes and the way you lingered in the store instead of leaving once you received your order.

Yeah. You were so flirting.

“Cute.”

“Huh?”

“Oh, nothing.” He smiled secretively but wouldn’t expand on what he said despite your questioning look.

You narrowed your eyes. “Sure, okay then.” Your fingers wrapped and unwrapped themselves from the handle of the to-go bag, like you didn’t want to leave just yet but didn’t know what was left to say. “Well-- Um, thank you for the order! I’m sure this’ll cheer the team right up.”

“And you as well, I hope.”

“Of course. I haven’t even tasted it but it already has.”

Just being here already has, is what you seemed to say. Osamu rather liked that implication.

“But… I still feel kind of bad for ordering all this so close to your closing hours,” you said sheepishly, rubbing the side of your neck like it had a knot. “I’m sorry.”

Osamu waved his hand at your words. “Please, what do you have to apologize for? Making me do my job?” he asked cheekily, his sideways grin showing teeth. “You shouldn’t feel bad.” He noticed the way you brought your lower lip into your mouth with uncertainty and he continued, “But if you still do...there is a way you could repay me and soothe those worries.”

You looked up, eyes widened. “How? I’d do anything.”

Dangerous words coming from such pretty little lips.

He adjusted the cuffs of his sleeves, unintentionally bringing your attention to his forearms. “Let me treat you out this weekend, yeah?”

Your gaze followed his hands as you nodded. “Yea--” You blinked to snap out of your daze and he stifled a laugh. “Wait, wait! Shouldn’t I be the one to treat you?”

“What kinda gentleman would I be if I were to ask you out on a date and tell you to pay?”

Maybe Atsumu would’ve made his date pay for their meal and activities of the day, but Osamu wasn’t him. Osamu had class.

“A date?” you parroted. “As in one with me? And you? Together?”

There wasn’t anyone else in the store he could be asking. Nope, just you and your awkwardly cute self.

Osamu nodded in affirmation. A date is just what he was asking you out on. “Well, only if you want, of course.”

You bit the inside of your cheek to contain the wide smile that threatened to spread across your face. “I wouldn’t mind a date with the cutest worker here tonight,” you teased, looking around the store before meeting landing on his face. “I still want to be the one to treat you, though. It’s the least I could do.”

As happy as he was that you didn’t reject him, he didn’t give. “Don’t worry about treating me-- Your company’s a better treat than money could buy.” You snorted at his pickup line and Osamu silently cursed his brother for saying that line would always work. And then cursed himself for believing it. “Look, I’ll pay. I insist.”

“I insist too.”

You held each other’s gaze, neither one wavering. He seemed to realize you weren’t going to give in, but he wasn’t planning on it either. He huffed, shaking his head, entertained. “Okay, then. How ‘bout we rock-paper-scissors it when the day comes?”

“Fine by me,” you laughed, hiding the bottom half of your face with your hand. He wanted to hold it in his so he could see the full smile you were covering, but Osamu decided he could save that for another time. “But don’t think you’ll have an easy win! I’ll have you know I play a mean game of rock-paper-scissors.”

“‘Course you do, sweetheart.”

And he didn’t doubt that at all.

As strange as the orders were and as nervous as you may have been at the start, Osamu found himself rather fond of you. Was working overtime worth it just for a date with a cute costumer?

Yeah, he decided. It was.

a/n: y/n’s vball team waiting for their comfort food after a bad loss while y/n and osamu are just there flirting after hours: 👁💧👄💧👁

[riverisnotsafe]

Mine.

PAIRING: F!Servant!Reader x Naoya Zenin

WARNINGS: NAOYA ZENIN. Naoya smut. NSFW, Minors DNI. | If you're into any of these: possessive Naoya, breeding kink (?), mentions of overstimulation, jealous Naoya.

A/N: You can call me Noct or River. I’m still fairly new to how tumblr works and how writers and bloggers (?) write their imagines/fics so I do apologize in advance if my writing is not to your liking. I will also post on AO3 under sunflowerpsycho. I'm still trying to improve^^ This was self-indulgent and not edited so pretty all over the place and might be unclear in some parts, sorry bout that.

The reader lowkey a pick me but depends on how you view her, either she's a pick me or she just acts the way she acts to accustom and stroke the lil bitches ego.

“A-ah! Naoya-sama!” you moan his name as he shoots his load deep in you. A few moments of bliss and you were ready to clean yourself. Naoya never liked staying in bed long after sex. He finds it disgusting. All the fluids of sweat, semen and love juices mixed together made his skin crawl. “Oi woman, where are you going?” You haven’t even gotten up but Naoya had you strongly wrapped in his embrace. His cock still deep within you, as if acting as a plug. “I’m gonna wash myself..? You don’t like being dirty like this...usually?” the last bit came out as a question when Naoya buried his head deep into the crevice of your neck. “Ah, I’ll let it pass today. Just stay here. My cum is gonna leak out if you move.” he tried to shove himself deeper, earning an unexpected moan from you. “L-leak out???” Does Naoya have a breeding kink? Is he trying to keep his cum in you???? “N-naoya-sama...are you trying to breed me?” at the mention of breed, you could feel his dick twitch in your core. “Shut up woman.” Ah...so he is and he’s embarrassed to admit. “I feel honoured if that’s what you’re trying to do...” another twitch.

Under that tough misogynistic act, this man is just a boy who thrives on praise, he probably was deprived of any in his childhood, hence the superiority complex. But with you, he’s quite honest. The body doesn’t lie. You were just another servant. He probably paid and slept with many so you never thought of it as anything special. Besides, after all of this dirty work, both of you end up going your separate ways. A servant and the young master. That’s all it is. That is until one of the maids tried stealing from the family, unfortunately from Naoya and he didn’t take it too lightly. A woman and a thief, absolutely the worst. Ever since that, he appointed you as his personal maid, to ensure that only one person will serve him. Only one will enter and exit his quarters. Only one will serve his meals. Only one will tend to him. Only one will follow him around the house. Only one will keep him company when needed. Why did he choose you? Honestly you had no idea. Out of all the servants, clearly you were the least appealing, especially for a man of Naoya’s caliber.

You could never rival the looks of any of the other girls. You were chubby. Your thighs a bit too thick. Your cheeks were puffy. You had no thigh gap. Curves? Well, they weren’t hour-glass curves so you were bedrock bottom ranked. And when it came to family, you were a nobody. All the other servants have been serving the Zenin clan for generations. You were just a nobody who was pulled into the servant life to pay off your parent’s debt. What luck. It took him time though, to make you tend to him sexually. He might have a big ego and any woman would sleep with him but deep down he knew it was only for money and his looks, which he prided on. The sex was always bland. He could care less about the women’s pleasures, he would ejaculate outside, toss them money and demand them to immediately leave. He found them disgusting. Weren’t you just the same?

He had a great face, an even better body and all the riches you could’ve dreamt of, so why has he not tossed you out yet. He for sure can suspect that you’re just the same as all those women, plus, you were even lower, a nobody. Yet, here he is, deep inside you. This has been..about the sixth time you and Naoya have had intercourse. The first three times was when you were just a normal servant. Coincidentally he always found you and forced you to pleasure him. The pay was good so you never complained. After becoming his personal maid, it took a few months to make you fulfil his sexual needs, which is rather strange. A man like knows nothing of consent. He’s a tyrant. What he wants, he can get and he will. So why did he take months to make you fuck him when it was so easy before becoming his personal servant. Who knows? Maybe it was his underlying insecurities asking him to be sure.

“Naoya-sama...may I turn to look at you?” he grunts. “I’ll be sure to avoid any leakage” he nods. You slowly turn your body, still impaled on him. It was a different kind of pleasure but you withheld your moans. Your face are so close. This moment is intimate, for you and him. Almost unreal. He’s gorgeous. That red tint of blush and sex afterglow just added more to his beauty. “Naoya-sama. May I speak more than usual?” “Only because you asked for permission. Proceed.” he avoided looking into your eyes. A shy one. “I appreciate my master’s kindness. Thank you for allowing me to speak. Naoya-sama...please be honest with me. Are you trying to impregnate me? Why? I’m just a lowly servant. I could never be perfect to bear your children, or be a concubine. I have no value. You are too kind. We should stop. I will remove myself now. Thank you for your time master.” You slowly push yourself off him. He grabs your arm harshly, definitely bruising it.

“You said no leakage. And how dare you speak to your master so insolently? How dare you question what holds value to me or not. You are a lowly servant. You’re a filthy no-name bitch. You live to lick my shoes and pick up money I throw on the ground. You are not going anywhere. You are staying on this bed with me in you. You have to be reminded who your master is.” Oooh, you definitely pissed him off. You winced at his words. They were normal, he always told you where your place is so it wasn’t a surprise. “You stupid woman. Now it’s out. You moved and now it’s out.” he sounds disappointed. He was whining like a child. “Naoya-sama!” he plunged into you hard. “Yes, scream my name you stupid bitch.” He went faster and faster. “Don’t cum inside...I’m not worthy master” “Shut your mouth. Worthy? No woman is worthy of me. Selfish. All they care about are themselves. Such an inferior gender thinking what they know is worthy? I decide. I decide your worth.” He changed positions. He pressed both your legs close to your chest. A mating press. He was so deep. The squelching of his previous load acting as lubricant was erotic.

“You. Your lewd body. You were always trying to seduce me. Those luscious thighs. These fat breasts. You were made for child-bearing. The look you make when I fuck you. So in awe, eyes rolling back. Ah. Ah. Sometimes you even forgot payment because you rushed to clean yourself. You were the only memorable one. The sounds you make. You’re erotic. No one else can see or hear you except me. Mine. Mine. Mine.” Naoya drilled you senseless. So desperate to hear you. Desperate to look at your expressions. Desperate to conquer you. “N-naoya-sama! Ah! Ah! Naoya-sama!” You had practically lost any sense and all you could feel was his dick fucking you mercilessly. The veins. The length. The girth. He fit like a glove. He had shaped you to be accustomed to him. “When that no-name clan came yesterday for a meeting. I saw your look. You enjoyed how they all looked at you didn’t you? You slut. You’d want them to fuck you like this right? Only I can though. You smiled and served them. Desperate bitch.” The meeting yesterday?

Your mind wandered. Oh yes, a small clan that are partners with the Zenin in business. The heirs were quite good-looking and well-mannered, how could a lady not feel flattered. You can’t remember if you specifically smiled or enjoyed their small talk. Was being polite not a simple necessity a servant should have towards guests? To ensure their master was not seen as tardy. You can’t remember their names or faces. All you remember was Naoya slipping his hand under your garments and fingering you. “You enjoyed people watching right? Especially since they were good-looking. I WAS RIGHT THERE WITH YOU. Disgusting piece of shit.” He got even rougher. You don’t know how many times you’ve orgasmed and how many times Naoya had ejaculated in you but he was still at it. He’s jealous huh.. how strange. A man that could have anything and anyone in the world was strangely possessive of a worthless woman like you. “You can’t show them those expressions. Mine. Your kindness mine. Your sounds. Mine. You’re my servant.” he sounds sad.

Despite being in subspace, you unintentionally reach out to your master and cub his face. “Naoya-sama. I love you.” Those unintentional words made the malicious man slow down his pace. “What did you say?” Is he angry? Oof, all the best dealing with another tantrum. You couldn’t feel anything. Legs sore. Your mind had wandered. The pleasure had made you dumb yet the little consciousness you have for your master remained. “I love you, Naoya.” His cock twitched. “Again” “I love you.” “Again” “I love you, Naoya-sama”. All that repeating made you come to your senses. “I don’t remember the men from yesterday. All I remember were your thick fingers in me. My expressions and mewls were for you. If this body is what you want then I will offer it all to you, my master. Ask, you are my master after all. All of me is yours.” You get up a bit, and stagger, he fucked the life outta ya. “Master, allow me to speak.” a small dumbfounded nod. You slip a hand onto his cheek and kiss him. Both of you never shared a kiss.

It was too intimate for a servant to kiss their master. Only their betrothed would be worthy but you couldn’t help it, you needed to assure this man-child, you were no one else’s. “Master, I-“ “Naoya. When we’re alone call me Naoya.” a small smile crept onto your lips. “Naoya, breed me.” His face was flushed. That’s exactly what he wanted. Through the night, he fucked you in every inch of the room. Both of your fluids and smell, absolutely drenched his quarters. He never once ejaculated outside. Every drip of his semen was in your womb, he wouldn’t even pull out, in fear it would leak. Shower? He fucked you while showering too. His animalistic senses stopped when a knock on the door came.

“Lay down with your back arched. It can’t leak.” He put on a robe and answered. A woman’s voice. “Naoya-sama. Naobito-sama is calling for you.” “Tch. Annoying old man” he slams the door shut. “Oi. Arch even more.” He came back to you. “I’m going to put this in you so you don’t spill.” He was holding, A DILDO? This man has a dildo? “N-naoya-sama, t-thats...” “Some servant I had my way with some time ago left it to fuck with me. I kept it not knowing what it was but now the shape looks like it’d plug you up good.” A servant he had his ways with huh. You were just another one right. He seemed to have noticed your train of thought. “Stupid woman. That servant is long gone. And now. You’re mine. No other stupid bitch except you. Stop thinking nonsense. Maybe I’ll remind you a bit more. That old man can wait.” He unrobed and pounced you. You definitely can’t walk for a few days.

“I’ll plug you up and we’ll go see the old man” he sounds, quite joyful. “If you move and leak, I won’t hesitate to fill you up again.” Ah. He’s definitely Naoya Zenin. “Naoya-sama” you smile. “What? You should be grateful that I’ve allowed you to speak so many times since last night.” You can’t help but giggle. A slight blush forms on Naoya’s face. “How dare you laugh at m-“ you pull him in for a kiss. He reluctantly kissed back. “Naoya-sama, I love you.” you smiled. He thrusted into you without warning. “The old man can definitely wait. You filled with my child is more important.” God knows how many times he’d come in your womb without pulling out, there’s no way you’re not pregnant. “Naoya-sama...let’s stop here...I can’t walk properly if we continue, then a different servant will have to serve you.” He was about to argue but held his tongue. “Fine.” He pulled out and slowly shoved the dildo in. Looks like he’d rather have wobbly-legged you than another servant. You can't help but smile. “Go shower and meet me back here. And clean the room after meeting with the old man. The smell...erotic but dreadful. Wash everything.” “Yes my master.” You hurriedly got clothed and rushed to the servant quarters to clean up. You were happy. What a weirdo.

[dialovers-translations]

DIABOLIK LOVERS MORE BLOOD Vol.2: Mukami Kou [Track 7+8]

Original title: 堕落した証 & いらいらする

Source: Diabolik Lovers More, Blood Vol. 2: Mukami Kou [CD not owned by me]

Audio: Here

Seiyuu: Kimura Ryouhei

Translator’s note: Oh boy oh boy. I should have kept my mouth shut during the last few tracks because these two tracks had me wriggle around in my seat as my stomach turned upside down. > < Those of you who have been around since last year might recall how I struggled with Shuu’s D-S Kyuuketsu CD because of the ‘bodily gore’ noises when he cuts the MC with a knife and then stirs his fingers around in the open wounds. KOU DOES THE EXACT SAME THING GDI. I had to pause several times because I got nauseous. :’’) Please no more of this Rejet. 

Track 1+2 ll Track 3+4 ll Track 5+6 ll Track 7+8 ll Track 9+10

→  LIKE MY TRANSLATIONS? SUPPORT ME ON KO-FI!

Track 7: Proof of Corruption

“Well then, where should I bite you next...~? Both your neck and arm are already dyed a bright crimson from your blood. Fufu~ While I’m at it, I guess I should make you even more red...Perhaps that’ll improve your looks a little.”

*Rustle*

[00:25] “Hmー Such slender wrists...Fufu, I could probably twist them with ease. If I were to plunge my fangs in, they might just pierce right through, don’t you think? Come on, show me your hand.”

*Rustle*

“Hm...These marks are still fresh. Hmー They weren’t left behind by me, which means they belong to one of those guys? Heeeh...Now what a lovely decoration you have here. You really are a maso-kitty, aren’t you? I sort of get now that you’re not doing all of this on purpose. Which means...is someone controlling you behind the scenes?”

*Rustle rustle*

[01:18] “Take flowers, for example. They don’t particularly wish to bloom beautifully, do they? However, some larger force in nature is ordering them to do so to lure in birds and insects. So perhaps you were put together by someone with the specific goal to seduce us Vampires? If not, a plain girl such as yourself couldn’t even dream of having someone like me suck you, not even out of pity. Fufufu...~”

*Rustle rustle*

He digs his finger inside your skin.

[01:59] “Ah-aaah...Since the wound hadn’t fully healed yet, my finger sank in the moment I pressed down. Does it hurt? Fufu~ I’m digging my nail into the open wound after all~ I bet it hurts...Then suffer more...Scream...! Nobody will hear you here. This place has been equipped to ensure that they won’t find you.”

*Rustle*

“But...Well...If they did know you were here, I wonder if they would come and get you? These guys who seem to be oh-so obsessed with you, I mean~”

Kou continues to stir up the wound with his nails.

“Are you writhing in pain? Ah-aaah...Your ugly face only became even more hideous. Should I say it has a certain charm to it? I’m incapable of loving you while you look like that though. However...”

*Rustle*

[02:57] “In regards to these wounds, I feel a strange sense of attachment. I wonder why? Perhaps it’s just fun to compete with other Vampires over a prey such as yourself? Hahaha...But in that case, I have to leave behind my own marks as well or it’s no fun, right? ...I’ll leave my mark on top of these wounds, as if to overwrite them. It’ll be perfect proof of how thoroughly corrupted you’ve become.”

*Rustle*

Kou bites you.

*Gulp*

“Mmh...*

*Gulp gulp*

“ーーHah!”

*Gulp*

[03:50] “Mmh...Haah...I can smell them from here...It pisses me off...Hahn...”

*Gulp gulp*

“Hah, haah...It makes me want to just rip up your whole arm with my fangs...”

*Gulp*

“Fufu...This must be the taste of hatred...~ Exactly...I can’t forgive them...Never! That’s whyーー”

*Gulp gulp*

“Haah...Haah...”

*Rustle*

[04:38] “I won’t return you to them. You’re basically mine now. Offer both your body and soul to me...And go mad. Fufu...Damn~ What’s wrong with me? Am I being spurred on by you? Uwaah...This is a first for me. Fufu~ I truly got my hands on a nifty toy. I was just going to have a little taste before handing you over to Ruki...but I might not want to let you go again.”

*Rustle*

[05:22] “Haah...Let me suck more...Your blood is messing with my head...as I find myself wishing you would offer more of that delicious blood pumping through your veins to me and me only.”

*Rustle*

“Oi. I bet you have other marks left behind by them as well, don’t you? Tell me. I’ll make you go through those painful memories again. Come on, hurry up and fess up.”

*Rustle*

[06:00] “Hey? Are you listening? If you space out like that, I’ll do something much, much more painful and rough?”

You muster a response.

“Hm? Your belly? Eeeh~? Now where could they be...~?”

*Rustle rustle*

“Ah, you must be talking about these. Marks spotted~ They really don’t hold back when devouring you, do they?”

He licks the marks.

“Oh, this one smells different. So, tell me. Did you have them bite you from head to toe? Hah! What a slut you are.”

You protest.

[06:46] “Hm? You didn’t wish for any of this to happen? ...Che. Why are you giving me that defiant look? Do I have to repeat myself a million times before your idiotic brain gets it? I was reminded once more the moment I sucked your blood. You’ve been tampered with in some way to lure in Vampires. I wonder who could be behind it...~? Fufu...Somehow that piques my interest...”

*Rustle*

“But for now, I’ll cover you with my marks. So I’ll thrust my fangs inside these wounds as well...”

Kou digs his nails into your skin once more as you flinch.

[07:31] “Aren’t you happy? I’m the one saying these things after all. ..Aaah-aah, such filthy marks. I’ll erase them right away.”

He bites you again.

“Hahn...”

*Gulp gulp*

“Hah...”

*Gulp gulp*

“Haah...Haah...”

*Sluuuuurp*

“Haah...This stench is persistent...It won’t disappear...Ugh, it pisses me off. If I can’t get rid of it with my fangs...It just makes me want to mess you up as a whole...”

*Rustle*

“Haah...Guess I’ll just have to sink them in deeper and deeper...Like thisーー!”

*Gulp gulp*

“Hah...Nnh...”

You cry out.

[08:41] “Ah...It hurts? Look at you gushing blood all over the place. You really have no shame, do you? But you shouldn’t be able to feel the pain, you know? My fangs have already made it so you perceive everything as pleasure. Fufufu...”

*Rustle*

“I can tell you want me, so try and voice it out loud? Beg for me with a cute tone. Come on, hurry...Ask me to make you feel ever better~”

You whimper.

[09:24] “Hmm~~? I can’t hear you...~ You’re going to have to speak a little louder. Also, don’t forget to sound cute, okay?”

You repeat it.

“Fufu...~ Exactly, like that. Just be honest with yourself...Perhaps then I’ll be able to feel a little affection for someone as ugly as yourself.”

You beg again. 

“Mm~ Good. You managed to beg for it cutely, so I’ll love on you in return. ...With these fangs of mine, that is.”

Kou bites you again.

*Gulp gulp gulp*

“Hahn...Mmh...”

*Sluuuuurp*

[10:14] “...Hah...! ...Hm? ...’More’? ...You can crave it more. I kind of like it when people yearn for me. ...I’ll plunge them inside even deeper than before...”

*Gulp gulp*

“Haah, haah...Ugh...Haah...I guess the smell is starting to fade a little?”

You moan.

“Fufu...Seems like you’re feeling rather good as well. Your body has completely given in to the pleasure, it feels as if your blood has become sweeter as well.”

Track 8: Irritation

Kou inspects your body.

*Rustle*

“Where else have they bitten you...? ー Ah, don’t tell me. I’ll try finding it myself this time...~ After the stomach, it has to be...The legs, right~?”

*Rustle*

[00:18] “Yes, I got it right! ...They sure love going for the risqué spots, don’t they? Hah! Right near your crotch (1) ...How lewd. On top of that, you can tell they’ve sucked from here repeatedly...Very dirty! I wonder what kind of expression you made as they sucked from here? Perhaps you didn’t realize it yourself, but they pretty much got a full view of aaaall your embarrassing places.”

You squeak.

“How embarrassing, gosh! ...But I’m sure you love that sorta stuff, don’t you? After all, I can see a glint of anticipation in your eyes. Or am I just imagining things? Is it because I’m the one doing this to you? ...Well, I guess I’ll figure out the answer to my own question once I bite you. Well then...”

*Rustle*

“Where should I leave my mark? ...Right here. I’ve settled on this spot.”

He bites you again.

*Gulp*

[01:28] “Mmh...Hah...Haha! What a lovely view...Fufu...”

*Gulp gulp*

“Seems like it’s making you weak as well...Look at you twist and turn your body like that...What a dirty girl you are.”

*Gulp gulp gulp*

“ ーーHah! We’re still nowhere near done...Let me suck more and more...Hahn...”

*Gulp gulp*

“Hah...Hah...”

*Gulp*

[02:11] “Haah...Fuck...Could this be a trap of some sorts...? Fufu...I feel as if your blood is leading me straight to my own demise...Well, I guess that’s fine. As long as it feels good...whether it’s a trap or whatever, I’m not scared. Perhaps the person who set you up this way predicted this all along? ...Say.”

*Rustle*

[02:44] “I bet they knew that we would try and snatch you away like that. Guess we’re being mocked, huh? That pisses me off. ...You seem to be feigning ignorance but you’re part of the whole scheme, aren’t you? ...If you think this will all pass as long as you just obediently spread your legs, you’re gravely mistaken. I’ll give you something much, much, much more painful, you’d find yourself wishing you’d be dead instead...!”

*Thud*

Your eyes widen in horror.

“Hehe...”

*Gulp gulp*

[03:26] “...Heh. Does it feel good? Lucky you! I think you might be the first human who has gotten the honor to receive this much pleasure from me. Well, under normal circumstances, one bite is plenty to make any human ascend to Heaven, but in your case, the more I have, the more delicious your blood becomes and on top of that...You dare oppose me. It pisses me off. ...Mmh...”

*Gulp*

“...Hm? There’s marks on your thighs as well!”

*Rustle rustle*

[04:06] “I have to engrave my own mark here as well. ...Geez, I wonder what they find so appealing about these stick legs? I can’t relate, but I don’t like the idea of there being marks from someone other than me. ...Mmh..”

*Gulp*

“Nnh...”

*Gulp gulp*

[04:37] “...Hah...Ah...Haah...~ I feel sluggish for some reason...Have I been numbed? In that case, your blood is to blame. ...This is bad...Fufufu~ I just don’t understand how I want to keep an ugly girl such as yourself all to myself...Makes no sense, does it? I feel irritated by it myself but...I also just can’t help it. This strong desire for you keeps on welling up inside of me...What is happening to me? Geez...Honestly, it pisses me off! I’ve never felt this strongly attached to anything or anyone before!?”

*Rustle*

“Hahn...”

*Gulp gulp gulp*

“...ー Hah!”

*Gulp gulp gulp*

“Mmh...Haah, haah...I can’t get enough...Do you want me more? ...So do I.”

*Gulp gulp*

[05:57] “Hah...Yearn for me more and more...You just need to keep your eyes on me. ...You belong to me now. Happy? Of course you are. If you continue to writhe around like that, I’ll give you never-ending pleasure.”

*Rustle*

“Mmh...Haahn...”

*Gulp gulp*

“Mmh...Nnh...”

*Gulp*

“Haah, haah...!”

*Gulp*

[06:37] “Haah...! I can’t...I still haven’t had enough...Hm. I still refuse to give you up. I’ll make you forget about those other guys in no time. I’m obsessing over you, so it only makes sense. ...Unlike those guys, I won’t call you prey either. You’re mine after all. ...Doesn’t that make you happy? I’m a gentleman after all~ I know how to make a girl happy. I’m sure you didn’t like being degraded by having them call you ‘prey’ either, right? Fufu...~”

ーー TO BE CONTINUED ーー 

Translation notes

(1) 足の付け根 or ‘ashi no tsukene’ is the root/base of the leg where it connects to the hips. 

[olivia-anderson-fanfic]

soulmate au?????

Soulmate Au where things that people love/hate appear tattooed on their soulmate’s body. If they love it it’ll be on their front, and if they hate it it’ll appear on their back. The more important it is the closer it is to the heart. They can also move around/disappear over time.

Tim Drake is two years old when he receives his first soulmarks. There are two: the names Sabine Cheng and Tom Dupain are found in elegant script over his heart.

He was alone when he’d found it, attempting to learn how to button up his shirt, and they’d sprung from his skin. He didn’t bother crying. He’d long since lost hope that someone would come for him if he did.

Instead, he’d waited for a maid to come into the room on her rounds and called her over.

The woman had smiled kindly as she explained soulmarks. How they were actually a good thing. How they meant that he was going to fall in love one day and one day he could get married! Like his mommy and daddy!

He’d seen how his mom and dad were sometimes. He wasn’t all that impressed.

Tim decided that the whole ‘soulmate’ thing could wait. He had a shirt to learn how to button.

~

On the other side of the world, however, Marinette Dupain Cheng is born without any tattoos on her body. Her parents don’t think much of it. She was just older than her soulmate, then. Or maybe she didn’t have one. That was fine.

But then, three years later, a computer appeared over her heart.

Marinette didn’t even notice until she was pulling off her shirt for a bath.

She hadn’t been shocked or scared like Tim had been, instead she’d beamed and waddled over to her mother with the widest grin on her face.

“Maman! Maman! Look! I have a soulmark!”

Sabine had smiled and turned to look but, much to Marinette’s confusion, it quickly morphed into an anxious expression.

Then her mother brought the smile back and she figured it must have been her imagination. The woman had reached out to ruffle her hair.

Marinette had finished getting ready and gotten in the bath, and her mother looked her over for a soulmark as she cleaned her. But there wasn’t one. There wasn’t one on her back and, outside of the one that had just formed, there wasn’t one on her front.

Then what was going on? Even abused kids tended to have their parent’s names somewhere on their bodies. But there was nothing.

The next guess was that her soulmate’s parents were dead. Usually, orphans had their housemates’ names on them, so the kid would have to be on the streets. Could a street kid really get enough access to a computer that it appears over their heart?

Sabine finished toweling off her daughter and pressed a kiss to her head after pulling her shirt on.

“Want to watch Pere bake some?”

The little girl’s eyes lit up and she nodded.

~

Whoever Tim’s soulmate was, they were really good at making friends. His chest was littered with names by the end of their first year of school.

And then there was one name on his back, right over his heart: Chloe Bourgeois. He frowned when he saw it.

For the first time since his first soulmark had appeared, he found himself curious about what was going on.

He pulled out his computer and looked up the name, not expecting to find much.

But, it turned out he did. After running an article through google translate (which didn’t work great) he managed to gather that she was the daughter of the mayor of Paris.

So... his soulmate was French.

(Unless they just had a vendetta against a random 3-year-old. Unlikely, though.)

He pulled up a new tab. It never hurt to learn a new language.

~

Their likes and dislikes slowly cropped up on their bodies as time went on.

Tim had smiled despite himself when he saw the pictures cropping up. A whisk was found on his shoulder, and then a video game console popped up on his stomach, and then a sewing needle and buttons could be seen under their parent’s names. On his back, he could find what appeared to be homework and broccoli. Whoever his soulmate was, their life seemed quaint and pleasant.

Marinette had been happy to see all the little things popping up over herself as well. A circus tent on the sole of her foot, a skateboard on her neck, a camera by the computer. On her back, she could see what looked like playing cards. She thought all their hobbies sounded cute (if a bit random). She was just concerned about the distinct lack of names on her body; she hoped that they were at least getting enough social interaction.

~

When she was twelve, it finally happened: a name appeared!

She stared at the script that had displaced the computer and her eyebrows knit together.

Batman.

Maybe a pet’s name? Human names tended to give a first and last name, so...

She typed it into her phone to try and translate it to French and her eyes widened when it actually gave information on someone in this place called Gotham.

A vigilante?

She laid back in her bed and frowned to herself.

In order for a person to show up as a name, there had to be a personal connection. If there wasn’t, like a celebrity crush, it would show up as a picture. But this was text, so…

Well, she hoped that her soulmate was safe.

Over time, more names appeared. They were all just as odd.

Nightwing?

Batgirl?

A simple google search showed they were vigilantes, too. She frowned slightly.

As long as they were okay, she supposed she should just be happy that they were talking to good people.

Besides, being friends with vigilantes seemed kind of cool. She could understand the appeal. She wished that Paris had something like that.

~

When he was fifteen a polka-dotted yoyo appeared over his heart, displacing their family’s names slightly. He stared at the yoyo for a minute in the mirror and then snickered to himself.

“Damn. They must really like yoyos.”

He laughed to himself and glanced at his back to see if anything changed, and was surprised to find that Chloe’s name had been moved away to make room for…

Was that a butterfly?

“And hate butterflies, apparently.”

~

She stared at the tiny bird over her heart.

Computers, skateboards, circuses, photography, and… birdwatching?

Whoever her soulmate was, their hobbies had range.

~

Tim had been changing out of his Robin costume when the names started disappearing.

Panic filled him. He’d heard before that, when your soulmate dies, your tattoos start to disappear.

But a few stayed, as did their hobbies.

He looked over the remaining names.

Their parents were still there, right next to the yoyo. Their family life was okay…

He stared at the other name and his eyebrows knit together.

Who names their kid Chat Noir?

He shook his head slightly. Maybe his soulmate had a black cat and wasn’t good at naming things.

Tim checked his back, mostly out of habit more than anything, and frowned to himself.

The butterfly had disappeared, and in its place were two names:

Lila Rossi and Hawkmoth.

~

She grinned as she twirled around in the dress she’d made. She was rather proud of it, it had a nice red and black color scheme.

She started taking it off, only to realize something.

Everything was gone.

She looked over her skin, running her fingers over where all the tiny tattoos had once been and felt tears form in her eyes.

Her soulmate was…

And then, slowly but surely, something appeared on her chest.

She wiped her eyes and looked at it, only to frown.

A gag gun that said ‘BANG’.

Nerves rattled around inside her. Something was definitely wrong, she could tell. But how could she fix it?

Maybe she could convince Master Fu to give her the horse miraculous? She could drop into Gotham as Ladybug for a little while and check up on them? Sure, she had no idea who her soulmate was, but she knew who they hung out with. She should at least make sure they’re okay.

A few hours later she was dumped unceremoniously onto a Gotham rooftop.

She looked up at the portal Master Fu had dropped her through and made a rude hand gesture, then pushed herself to her feet. She walked to the edge of the roof, dusting herself off as she went, and looked over the side.

Wow, this place definitely looked like the most dangerous city in the world. She could see a guy holding a gun while walking an old lady across the street it was so bad.

She pulled out her phone and looked up a picture of the vigilantes that she’d seen on her chest. Nightwing… Batgirl…  Batman…

Man, did they have to wear such dark colors? It was night! How dare they do the smart thing and make it hard to see them!

Fine. Time to wonder around and pray, she supposed.

She had been considering detransforming and seeing if she could buy a coffee when she heard a click behind her head.

Ah. Fuck.

~~~

Part 1/21, 34k words in all

Next

The version on AO3 was edited by me to make it better (in my opinion) but this is the original version if you'd prefer that

You didn’t really give me any specifics so I’m sorry if this didn’t turn out like you wanted. You were probably expecting fluff but uhhhhhh,,, don’t know why you were asking ME for that --

[doubleshotofsomething]

To Hell & Back

Part Two: “Lucky for me, your kind of heaven’s been to hell & back”

Summary: You still hate Bucky. But you need him to keep you from going to jail... So, what’s the harm in inviting him over to dinner?

Prompt: “I don’t want to live on this planet anymore.”

Warnings: Angst?? (i think). Probably typos( which will be fixed). Implied violence. 

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x Reader

--

Part one [In case you missed it]

----

It's Saturday.

Your day off. Well, what used to be your day off until it was turned into a family therapy session.

Well... Not an actual therapy session. It is literally just dinner with your family, including your sister's husband - a man you refuse to identify as your brother in law for reasons that will end in you being called the j-word. The husband, because he's the only son-in-law your parents have, has been dubbed the "referee" of the Saturday Sessions.

Each session, since you've been discharged, has made committing murder seem more and more appealing.

So appealing, that you're standing in front of your neighbour's door with a basket of muffins and a please-keep-me-from-committing-felonies smile.

Bucky, because he just spent the afternoon searching for a new bar, is standing on the other side of the door. Both confused and frightened to see you at his door voluntarily.

"Is there a bomb in that basket?" He asks, eyes roaming over you suspiciously. "Believe me, it's not gonna work."

You blink at him, then at the basket. Then back at him. "Why would I put a bomb in a muffin basket and then hold it?"

He raises a sceptical eyebrow at you.

You huff. "Fine, they're poisoned. I accidentally added laxatives while making them-"

"Accidentally?"

"Yes, accidentally-" you glare at him. "-they're not for you. They're from us."

He blinks at you, confused. You haven't spoken to him, actually spoken to him, for a few months. You avoid him like he has a disease and when your paths do cross, you just glare at him like he threw your cat into on coming traffic.

It's been a few days since the coffee machine incident. He has a brand new one - better than the last one - sitting on his kitchen counter, waiting for him to develop the courage to give it to you. It should be easy. He has mastered the art of making amends.

But... He can't, for some reason, bring it to you.

"Wait-" he frowns, your words finally registering in his head, "-did you just say from us?"

You set the basket down. "So, remember when you broke my one shot at happiness?"

"Oh god." He forgot how dramatic you are, as well.

"Yeah, you can fix that little error by being a doll and-" you pause, then frown, struggling to find the right words.

"Muffin poisoned your tongue?"

"I'm trying to ask you to be my plus one for tonight's dinner-" you grit your teeth, your blood beginning to boil. "-at my parents house."

You didn't look him in the eye when you said that. And by the sounds of it, he doubts this is something he should be going to. Or something you should be going to. Not if it brings out this side of you.

"Who are the muffins for?"

They were for your sister. You broke her nose last week, which was never your intention, and the guilt has been eating you up alive since. The punch was meant for her asshole husband.

"You coming or not?"

"Let me grab a wine and the keys."

"We have muffins. No need to waste your good wine on mediocre tastes."

"I'm bringing the wine."

"If you make us stop to pick out flowers, I will watch porn with the volume on full blast every night for a week."

"Why are you always so violent?"

--

"So, how bad is it?" Bucky asks.

You've been in the car for a half an hour, because you chose the busiest route and the most congested during rush hour, and that's the first thing either of you have uttered since you politely dragged him out of his apartment.

You shrug. "Three roads lead to this one, so we'll be here another half hour."

"I mean the situation-" he drums his fingers against the wheel. "-you literally chose to be in a car with me, for the longest time possible. Either you want to get there late or you don't want to get there at all."

"Maybe I just like spending time with you."

Bucky scoffs, but doesn't question you further.

The car is silent, aside from the traffic outside, and you could almost relax. For just a moment, you could close your eyes and imagine you're somewhere else.

But you can't. Because you're not. You're on your way to a dinner that shouldn't be happening and is only happening because you're part of your neighbour's redemption list.

Because he just had to have a conscious.

"I punched my sister last week," you mumble.

Bucky wants to laugh. He wants to laugh so badly. He has met your sister, a handful of times - at the hospital, outside your room and outside your apartment door.

Every time she'd come over, she would knock hard enough to make him think she's part of SWAT team. And each time, he would could hear you scramble to switch off all devices that could alert her of your presence inside.

One time, you'd both arrived a few minutes after each other. His door was closer and already open, so you shoved your grocery in his hand and dived into his apartment to hide from your sister. He had to pretend he hasn't seen you since you left for work , and that the packet of sanitary pads that fell out were for his girlfriend.

He didn't have one.

He wants to laugh, because he doesn't like her at all. But he doesn't, because she's your sister. "What did she do?"

"She married an asshole-" you scoff. "-and decided to get in the way and I tried to punch said asshole."

At this, he grins. "And you need me there because?"

"I need you to keep me from trying to kill him," you begrudgingly admit. "I'm too high maintenance for prison."

"How bad is this guy that you need me to help you not kill him?"

"Bad enough that I'm gonna need you to park a few blocks away from the house," you turn to look at him, his confused eyes meeting yours for a quick second. "I told them we're taking the bus."

"Wow."

"Which means we only get to spend less than two hours there, if you drive a little slow-" you pause when he drives passed a McDonald's. "-hey, can we stop and get milkshake?"

He deadpans. "We have dinner plans with your parents."

"I get that you and them might have gotten along since you decided to be a hero," you glare at him. "But they're not as cool as the hospital visits made them seem."

Your parents have invited him over to dinner a handful of times, and each time he had to decline. You and him weren't on the best of terms, and he didn't want to make things worse by showing up for dinner without your knowledge.

He knows, first hand, that a few interactions aren't enough to give the full depth of a person. But he saw how devastated they were, how heartbroken they were, at the sight of tubes and needles sticking out of you.

He doesn't believe, he can't believe, for a second that they're as bad as you say they are.

But he won't argue with you. Not about this. "We'll get milkshake after."

"Hey, remember that coffee machine you br-"

"Oh, fuck you!"

***

You're not a fan of wine. At least, not the wine Bucky brought to the dinner.

An hour into the dinner and you've already had enough glasses to have Bucky worried. The wine is halfway to empty by the time dessert rolls in, and when your sister's husband clears his throat, you abandon the glass and drink straight from the bottle.

The second hour into the dinner is where things got interested. Interesting enough for Bucky to take the bottle from you before you could throw it at someone's head. Mainly because he wanted to throw it at someone's head. Your sister's husband's head to be specific.

Just as your mother gets up to start making tea for the muffins you brought, Bucky is the first on his feet and the first to use the 'we have to get going before we miss the bus' excuse.

You grin at him, vision slightly hazy from the wine you drank on an empty stomach.

"Mhmm," you hum as you cling into him to get to your feet, "the bus. We gotta- the bus. Bah-yeee."

"I'll make sure she gets home safe," he promises to your parents and they believe him.

Hell, you believe him. If there's one thing you can trust your neighbour to do, it's to save your life. But not your coffee machine.

He guides back to the car, which is parked exactly where you told him to, and he's never been happier to have listened to you. You sing all the way back, some ridiculous song about when you're fat and old, and you're the most content he's ever seen you.

Drunk off wine, eyes glassy and smile wide, as you try to mimic his steps. You sigh when you get into your seat, even though you fight him on opening your own door, and fumble lazily with your seat belt until he helps you clip it in.

Your struggle to find a comfortable position, but forget all about that when he parks the car outside your favourite coffee shop. You're out before he can even unclip his seatbelt and you're inside before he makes it to the door.

"Hi," you whisper-yell as you lean against the counter. "Pssst. Hi. Hello."

The barista blinks at you. Bucky cuts in before he can get a word out. "We'll take coffee. Filter. And anything that's bread-"

"-don't listen to him, he breaks hearts for a living. Sometimes he rips them out." I jab your pointer finger against the countertop. "I will take the strongest coffee you've got. I'm in the mood for bad decisions and-"

"We'll be at the booth, in the back." Bucky gently pries you from the counter. "One coffee and two bottles of water-"

You try to smack his hands away. "Why must you be so- Barnes, I swear to god, I will take your parking space."

He shoves you into the booth, then takes a seat opposite you. You attempt to make a break for the counter, but the glare he fixes you with is enough to keep you in your place.

It should scare you. The look he gives you. You know what he is capable of, without mad scientists to control him, you know the damage he's done. It takes a special kind of strength to face people like the flag smashers, and a special kind of crazy to go after them.

Bucky is both. And yet, his glare doesn't scare you. So much so, that you return it.

"I hate your brother-in-law-"

"Sister's husband," you cut in to correct him. "I refuse to recognise him as my anything."

He nods. "Right. So, let me get this straight-"

Bucky pauses as the barista sets down the coffee, the water, two croissants, some breadsticks and a garlic roll. When he's satisfied that there's nothing else, he leaves you alone with Bucky and the breads.

"You got work tomorrow-" he puts sugar into your coffee and stirs, before handing it to you. "-so you're gonna need to eat as much, so that it absorbs all that wine."

You glare at him but still do as he says. He's right and you'd rather sulk than admit it.

"So," he clears his throat to get your attention. "Your sister is an asshole, that married an asshole. And your parents are enablers of all that bullshit?"

You nod, practically shoving the garlic bread into your mouth. You didn't touch the food your mother cooked and, other than that milkshake Bucky bought you, you haven't had anything to eat all day.

"Instead of just sending you to therapy-" he scrunches his face in disgust at the thought. "-I can't fucking believe I'm advocating for that, but instead of paying for therapy. They do that? Host a dinner, sit a circle and kumbaya the problems away?"

Taking a sip from your coffee, you continue to nod. "Is it helping?"

He frowns, meeting your eyes. "What?"

"The mandated sessions-"you swallow. "-I heard you and Wings talking about it."

Thin walls. Shared balconies. Despite not being in each other's life, both of you know more than enough because of your apartments.

Your balcony and his are separated by a small barrier, but you can still hear his conversations - and visa versa- if you leave your glass door open enough when he's out there.

The wall that separates your apartment is thin enough for him to pick up on your habits. You don't think you're a creature of habit, but he would disagree.

He can tell, just from your foot steps, what you're going to watch or do in the living room. From the little sounds you make, he can tell which series you're binge watching for the umpteenth time and which one is on just for background noise.

If you weren't a creature of habit, he wouldn't have found you in time. You wouldn't be sitting in front of him, asking about his wellbeing, instead of dealing with yours.

"Wings is Captain now," he corrects, and you accept the deflection.

You would never overstep, or push. Not with him. Never with him.

"If Captain, why Wings?"

Narrowing his eyes, he pushes the bread sticks closer to you. "Fine, Captain Wings."

Again, you obey the silent instruction.

"Where were we-"

"We were plotting an asshole's abduction," you tell him, "and then dropping him off at the bottom of the Atlantic ocean. If that's not available, then maybe near Dyer Island."

He raises an eyebrow at you. “Why would we drop your sister’s husband on an Island?”

"It's a place, with a shitload of great white sharks."

"And you know this because?"

"I like to always be prepared."

"For what?" His brows furrow. "Do you just know random places to dump people that–"

You cut in. "–will lead to an inevitable death by natural causes? Yes."

He stares at you. Actually stares. Openly, at you. He can't remember the last time he did that, looked at you, for no other reason than to just look.

You didn't always hate him. When he first moved into your apartment building, and the landlord introduced you too, you were indifferent. He didn't think you knew who he was, most people don't at first glance, so he was relieved. Indifference was definitely better than everything else.

That was until you walked passed him and Sam in the lobby of the building, a week after he moved in.

"Sarge–" you nodded at him, as you checked your mail. Then nodded at Sam as you made your way out of the building. "–Wings."

You knew, you always knew who he was, and just didn't care. That was refreshing, to say the least.

The hate only came that night, or the following morning, he wasn't sure. All Bucky knows is, he meddled, and now you hate him for it. For saving you.

He's tried to talk to you about it. Countless of times, he's tried, and each time you hate him a little bit more. Or so it seems.

He wants to talk about it now. It's obvious in the way he's looking at you, like he can't believe you're here, in front of him. You can't either, but you won't ever admit that to him.

Hell would sooner freeze over before you actually admitted that maybe, just maybe, he should have meddled sooner.

You won't. So, instead, you put down the bread stick and sit back. "I know a really cool coffee place... If you still need a new place to hang."

It's an olive branch. You don't ever say what you really mean, he knows that, and he smiles at that little fact. That he knows that, he knows you.

"Is the barista as dramatic as I hear?"

"Only to strangers that break down her doors," you shrug. "Oh, and guys who break her coffee machine–"

"You're never gonna let that go, are you?"

You grin. Because you're just as petty as he is.

---

Tags: @sunflowerxbarnes , @ginger-swag-rapunzel​ , @arctic-duchess​

[vera-dauriac]

Tell me about Joe Abercrombie? (I was going to PM you this but I figured if you're like me you'll have a really long answer to this question and might be better suited to it being a proper ask!) - I'm curious and need a decent new (to me) fantasy author with some right long series to get into. What's he like? Where would be a good place to start? Sell me him! (if you don't mind of course, no hurry and if you would!)

Eek! I am both ridiculously excited, and sweating, because I want people to read Abercrombie because he’s amazing and omg I love him so much.

*deep breath*

(Telling people about books and why they might appeal to them is literally my job I can do this. Right? Right.)

OK. So. What you should actually know about Abercrombie. First off, he has embraced the moniker Lord Grimdark, and while he thinks it’s hilarious, it’s also entirely accurate. Which means…

He’s not for the queasy. The books are violent and graphic, with plenty of blood and torture and whatnot. If you don’t have a strong constitution, he’s not for you. Also, there’s not a lot of sex, but almost none of it is sexy. The word “squelch” gets used a lot.

The overall outlook can be bleak. “Truly, life is the misery we endure between disappointments.” One of the characters says this, and I feel it could be a mission statement for the entire world of The First Law.

And yet…

The humor. Abercrombie is one of the funniest writers I’ve ever read. The humor is dark, I mean, pitch black, but truly hilarious.

The characters. If there is fantasy out there being written with better characters, I haven’t read it. It’s not just his ability to make otherwise unsympathetic characters interesting and likable, but that they feel so distinct and lived in.

So what are his book actually about?

Let’s get this out of the way. He wrote a YA trilogy that opens with Half a King. I really like that book, but the rest of the series didn’t click with me. Others feel different.

I’m just here to talk about his adult books, which are all set in the same universe, often referred to as The First Law world. The books are the original First Law trilogy: The Blade Itself, Before They Are Hanged, and The Last Argument of Kings. This series was followed by three standalone books: Best Served Cold, The Heroes, and Red Country. After that came the new The Age of Madness Trilogy: A Little Hatred, The Trouble with Peace, and The Wisdom of Crowds (coming in September!). This is also the internal chronology of the ‘verse. (There’s also a short story collection, Sharp Ends.) It covers several decades, and there are still characters from the original trilogy who survived the standalones and are kicking around the latest trilogy, but the focus is now on their adult children.

Anyhow, The First Law world is secondary world fantasy with really good, but not watch-me-showoff, overwhelming worldbuilding. (In other worlds, the kind of worldbuilding that really appeals to me. I feel immersed, but I don’t feel like the world is the point. The characters are always the point in Abercrombie.) It’s swords and chainmail to start with. Lots of battles and fights, light on magic. But there is a Magus many of thousands of years old who is clearly fucking with everything and has his own agenda, and there are a few other magical types floating around. Slowly, canon begin to emerge in the world, and The Age of Madness is full on Industrial Revolution.

The original trilogy is good and where I started, but the books have gotten stronger. My favorite book is probably the first standalone, Best Served Cold, which I think makes a solid entry point. One of the most remarkable women in fantasy, and someone who occasionally eats my brain, Monzcarro Murcatto, is the general of the best mercenary army company in her corner of the world, and she gets fucked over and builds a team of killers to go get her revenge. She is also part of my very favorite ships in the 'verse. (Aside—Abercrombie is not necessarily an intentionally shippy author, especially early on, but you can definitely set sail.) In a world of great characters, I think BSC has my favorite cast, including the world’s funniest alcoholic general, an incel poisoner, and the start of a character arc that’s still happening in the latest books that owns my soul.

For what it’s worth, if I had to speak on behalf of the fandom, I’d say The Heroes is probably the favorite book. It’s a three-day battle, and fairly self-contained, and probably not a bad place to start. I think of it as fantasy The Killer Angels. It’s really very good.

On top of this, all of the books have really fantastic prose. The man knows how to turn a phrase and find just the right words. (Seriously, when I’m drafting new stuff, I have a hard time reading Abercrombie because I feel so inadequate compared to his use of language.) Just, every word choice sinks you a little deeper into the characters and the world. It’s a genuine feat.

I could go on. Talk more about specific characters and plots. But I wouldn’t know when to stop, and I want to leave you something to discover on your own. 😉

[tatertotthethot]

The Doms Next Door 2.0

THIS IS A TEMPORARY REUPLOAD FOR THIS CHAPTER CUZ TUMBLR IS RAN BY A BUNCH OF BOTS. 2.1 HERE

Warnings/AN: frequent, casually cursing; comical, gay Jimin; insecure reader; steamy flirting; tattoo/sexualized Tae 🙃. Enjoy~ (TAEKOOK EDIT ABOVE IS ARTKOOK DONE BY NONCONMAN ON INSTAGRAM)

copyright © 2018 all rights reserved

_________________________________

Your tires came to a stop outside of the tattoo shop you've seen online— a brick building, covered in spray paint and street-style art. A sign buzzed over the awning of the entrance doors, with the built-in UV lights and graffiti-styled font displaying the name of the place in neon-red letters. Kink For Ink! The name alone was what first caught your attention last week, when you Googled "Tattoo shops near me" and it pulled up a list, with "Kink For Ink" being the first option. It just seemed so uncanny and fitting at the time, considering the previous run-in you just had with the sex-crazed neighbors a couple nights before. You couldn't help but to click the link to their Instagram.

A profile came up with 53.4k followers, which immediately blew your mind... but you quickly saw why. Every tattoo and piercing, no matter the body-placement, skin-type, or quirky design, was vividly appealing— certainly done by the articulate hands of certified experts. Even in the comments of the piercings that were posted, people were praising them for the "minimal" amount of pain they experienced, despite the fact that some of piercings were done in places you couldn't even fathom the thought of having a needle jammed through.

It said in the bio that the shop is owned by the two artists that work there— Kim Taehyung and Jeon Jungkook. You couldn't find out much about them, all their pictures showed was their work. You even went back to search for a personal account of their own, but nothing came up. You then went back to the bio and clicked a link to the official website, hoping to find out something, but you were met with a disclaimer rule at the top that automatically deemed your chances of even getting your piece done by them, slim-to-none.

• No walk-ins allowed.

• Every request/idea must be sent in through the DMs of our Instagram page. You will only be accepted only if it spikes our personal interests.

Yikes; You were instantly discouraged by this. The piece you wanted was something so common and cliché, that you actually got the image out of a child's coloring book.... It was the cartoon layout of the glass vase and enchanted rose, from the Beauty and the Beast movie. Cheesy, yes. But it was something of personal, nostalgic value. You remember when you were little— roughly around 3 or 4 years of age— when your parents started fighting and would spend all day screaming and throwing things at each other, putting you in a constant state of anxiety. But then you'd go to bed at night and pop the VHS tape, and the movie never failed to put you in a peaceful state of mind— a hopeful one. It's remained as your all-time favorite love story throughout the years. Which, is ironic, considering that the relationship itself was different, but almost as dysfunctional as your parent's. However, the fact that even the Beast was capable of change, and everything wound up so perfect and happy in the end, makes your heart happy. And even now, at age 19, it still puts you in your feelings. The previous remake of a movie is what actually inspired you to get the enchanted rose as a tattoo, after seeing it in 3D not too long ago. But you're only willing to shell out up to $200 for it, at most. You've just started college, and even though Jimin's parents own the house and let the two of you live there, rent free, you're still responsible for half the utility bills from month to month. Blowing every bit of money you have saved up, right at the start of the semester, would just be irresponsible. But $200 was manageable, and you're looking for anything that'll give you a little extra "oomph" to break you out of this introverted shell you've always known. Pushing it off would just delay it, and you were ready for change. The nose piercing you want is just a small little thing that'll hopefully add a bit of flare to the features of your face. These two guys could probably do the piercing/tattoo with a blindfold on and a hand tied behind their back. So, if it meant that you'd be able to get these things done in confidence, without having to worry about the outcome, you figured it wouldn't hurt for you to at least ask, even if they straight-up ignore you. So, after spending an unnecessary amount of time overthinking the wording of your text, you finally constructed a message in your notes and DM'd it to business page, after sending them a small, simple outline of the cartoony rose, and pressed send.

• You: Hello! I've been wanting to get this tattoo done for a very while now, and was hoping one of you will be willing to do it for me... along with piercing my nose? I know it's a very mediocre and cliché piece, and a nose piercing can be done anywhere. But I'm new to the area and I've never gotten a tattoo/piercing done before and I haven't really checked out any other places either because I found this page first. And from what I can see, you guys are pretty efficient and CRAZY talented. So, I trust it'll get done right.... only if you want to! I'm willing to pay $200 for this, but if it costs that much for just the outline I've sent then that's fine as well. But I understand if neither of you want to do it cuz that is really cheap compared to the ones I've seen lol. But either way, thx for ur time 😁

A few minutes went by and you had just unlocked your phone to check the message again, when the word "seen" popped below the message. You held your breath for a second— but seconds turned to minutes, and time went by with no reply, what-so-ever. You figured maybe you sounded a little too immature to take seriously; kind of like a prepubescent 12-year-old asking someone out for a dance... and you blew it. Which was disappointing, but predictable. So fuck it. Maybe it's a sign; you shouldn't get it after all.

11pm rolled around, many hours later. You were now hiding beneath your covers, beginning your "amateur threesome" exploration on PornHub. You were ready to see what this whole "2 guys, 1 girl" thing was all about. But just when you were about to type it into the search bar, you were interrupted by an Instagram notification dropping down from the top of your screen.

"KinkForInk sent you a message."

You audibly gasped, eyes turning to saucers as you clicked on the notif and switched over to the Instagram app.

• KinkForInk: Hi (Y/N). This is Tae, one of the artists of the shop. The tattoo you sent in is worth roughly $100... but I want to run an offer by you in hopes that you'll be interested.

— Your brows scrunched in oddity, stomach fluttering. An offer? For you?

• You: Okay, sure. What's that?

• KinkForInk: I've been looking for someone willing to showcase the custom design I've come up with, specifically for a much more... exclusive version of the Beauty and the Beast tattoo you sent. And if you'd be down for letting me and my partner put it on you, it'll be free. No charge. BUT you'll also have to sign a contract saying that you'll do a little bit of modeling for us once it's done. You think you'd be in to doing something like that, even if you get it?

— Your head spun for a second, reading the message over and over again until you could fully wrap your mind around what he was saying.

• You: Hold on... YOU wanna put a tattoo on ME so that I model for you? And it's FREE? Are you sure about this? I'm not even model material lol.

• KinkForInk: Yes, yes, and yes, you are. You'd be perfect for this.

• You: How do know that? Is it a face tattoo? Cuz I only have 6 selfies on here and you can't see anything past my shoulders.

—"Seen" came up as soon as you hit send, but a couple of minutes rolled by with no reply to the message, nor was he even typing. Maybe you came off a little rude. But it was already sketchy and it was a logical question.

— An image suddenly popped up: a screenshot of your Facebook profile. Then another— and much to your horror, it was the photo Jimin tagged you in last week, when the two of you were swimming at a local community pool. You were wearing a simple two piece, sitting at the foot of the lawn chair Jimin was also sitting in, as his legs were visible on either side of you and his lap was practically framing your ass. The photo was at an upward angle and looked so scandalous— but really, you had just asked Jimin to put sun screen on your back and he didn't want to stand up because the pavement was too hot against his bare feet. But you actually liked the picture at the time; it was just a silly joke and your ass actually looked quite nice from that angle. Plus, everyone knows nothing sexual actually goes on between the two of you, for obvious reasons. But Taehyung doesn't, so you couldn't help but dreadfully cringe when you saw the caption of the screen shot.

"Babymama 💦🍆"

• KinkForInk: Is this you??

• You: Yes, that's me. The caption is a joke tho... pay no mind to that. But this is like, really happening? You really think it'd look good on me?

— Why that picture though? You couldn't help but wonder.

• KinkForInk: Yes. Like I said, you're perfect for this piece. Are you down to at least see what the tattoo will look like? We don't expect you to be experienced with modeling or anything, but if you listen to us and cooperate, you'll do just fine.

• You: Yes I wanna see, and I'll do the best I can if I decide to get it... I'm just a bit shy, is all.

• KinkForInk: You'll be in good hands. I promise.

• You: Okay... are you going to show me??

• KinkForInk: Can't send it over a message, I don't want it plagiarized or the concept stolen. But the piece itself isn't necessarily crazy or anything, just more creative. I'd be more than happy to show you at my shop some day this week, if you'd be willing to swing by.

• You: Yeah, I can do that. When should I come?

• KinkForInk: Are you available after 5 tomorrow?

• You: I am, I get off at 4:30.

• KinkForInk: Great. Be here by 5:30, and make sure you've eaten in case you like the piece and wanna get started. It's pretty big for a first timer and gonna take a lot of time and patience. It'll have to be done in sessions but I hope you have a fair enough pain tolerance to at least get the outline of it done first.

— It can't be any worse than a bikini wax, you thought, shivering at the memory. That a story for another time. You decided on an alternative scenario.

• You: I give blood from time to time... but that's easy and doesn't really hurt that much. I think I can handle it though... maybe. I honestly don't know lol, I'm sorry 😣. But I can try my best. Can I ask where it's supposed to go?

• KinkForInk: That's okay, I'll work with you. It's supposed to go down the middle of your back. Starts between the center of your shoulder blades, and trails down the length of your spine to your lower lumbar. You'll see how it looks once we transfer a template on your back. But if you don't like it, there will be no hard feelings from my end. I can still do the tattoo you want if that's the case, free of charge just for your time.

• You: Oh no, you don't have to do that! I'd still pay!

• KinkForInk: Not if I don't accept your money. Trust me, I'm not worried about it. The nose piercing is gonna be $30 regardless, though. JK isn't so lenient.

• You: Of course. Will I have to take my shirt and bra off for the tattoo?

• KinkForInk: Yes, and for the pictures once it's done.

— Your mind blanked at that; thumbs froze over the keypad. He was typing again.

• KinkForInk: Don't let that discourage you. Again, you're in good hands. You can bring something to cover your chest. And the pics will be if your back as well.

• You: Okay, I can handle that. So 5:30 tomorrow?

• KinkForInk: Yes, please don't flake on us!

• You: Lol, I won't. I'll be there.

"They're gonna knock us the fuck out and sell our organs to the black market," Jimin declared. He had parked next to you outside of the shop, and was now sitting in the driver seat of his car with his door locked and windows all the way up, refusing to get out. You were standing right outside his door, still having to talk on the phone. "And is this Tae-guy an AllState representative or something?"

Jimin is petty. You wanted him here for moral support— which he's usually reliable for— but this time, he's just plain salty right and doing everything he can to remind you of that. Reason is, he's been begging you to get a matching tattoo with him ever since your 18th birthday, and you've always refused because of what he wanted to get.

Cupcakes. Jimin wanted to get matching cupcake tattoos... in honor of Cupcakke the legend. Sorry, but H E L L no.

You rolled your eyes, growing frustrated. He only has enough time to pop in and confirm that these two aren't gonna kill you, and then he's gotta head home to get ready for work. You were already supposed to be in there. It was 5:33pm, 3 minutes past the time.

"Jimin, you're the one that insisted on coming along! And now you're making me late!" you ranted. "I'm going in without you."

"Hold your horses, hoe! I'm finishing my blueberry slushie," He retorted, sassily bringing the straw to his mouth and loudly slurping it into the phone. He then abruptly flinched away from the straw with a disgusted expression, nostrils flared, body locking up; lips drawing into an air-tight knot that was so extreme and unnatural, it caused an ugly snort to break out of your nose.

He smacked his lips in exaggeration to the taste, face falling back into stone as an eyebrow arched over the top of his aviators; unamused and saltier than before... Like you were at fault for that, too.

"Or... Blueberry-ass, I should say."

That forced another giggle out of you as Jimin stiffly rolled his window down, phone still pressed to his ear and eyes still scowling at you behind the inspector shades. He bit down on the straw and withdrew it with his teeth before dumping the dark-blue contents of the drink out of the window, making it a point to shake the styrofoam cup empty of every drop before tossing it over his shoulder and into back seat. He then spat the straw out of his mouth with an audible "PLUUUUH!" of a French accent, and waited until the window rolled all the way up again, just so he could hang up the phone. You scoffed at this as you shoved your phone back into your pocket, scornfully watching Jimin exit the car and slam the door behind him. He snatched his glasses off his face as his cotton-candy hair swayed in the breeze, revealing his scornful eyes right back at you as he gestured for you to lead the way in exasperated manner— as if you were the one wasting his time now.

"Go on, lead us to the grave," He shooed, a snippy little shit. You sauntered away, walking up the side of the shop, then paused just before reaching the glass entrance door, when you remembered how much of a coward you are. You've never even stepped into a parlor before, and supposedly, this was a famous one. Which makes it more and more surreal when you think about it.

"Are we doing the mannequin challenge now? Is that what we're doing?" Jimin sardonically inquired.

"You go first, I'm nervous!" You whisper-hissed.

"You don't want me to go in there first— I'll show out," he reasoned, simply stating a fact.

"Please don't," you whined.

"Then, again, I'll show out?" He reiterated, as if to say duh. "How else am I supposed to break the ice? I look like Timmy Turner's Fairy-Gay- Parent."

You gave him a wary look... he's right. You sighed, slightly kicking your foot in distracted defeat. Fuck, you hated making an entrance to new places—

"Hold up— is that Drake?" Jimin suddenly blurted, holding his hand up to silence you. You honed in on the muffled track playing from behind the glass door, and Jimin's face soon light up like a Christmas tree before he spun around you, unstoppable.

"Jimin, NO—!"

"KIKI, DO YOU LOVE ME—?!"

It was already too late. The door was flying back behind him as he Milly-Rocked his way into the shop, leaving you no choice but the chase in behind him.

"—ARE YOU RIDING? SAY YOU'LL NEVA-EVA LEAVE FROM BESIDE ME— hello there."

You were panting, coming to a stop right behind Jimin, where you instantly latched on to the back of his shirt as you met the face of the man behind the studio counter. And, as corny as this is gonna sound: the world actually stilled for a solid beat... or maybe you were in the verge of cardiac arrest.

A pair of glossy-Black eyes looked up at the two of you; A series of silver-studded earrings trailed along the outer cartilages, peaking out beneath a head of soft, layer-swept hair. It was a Carmel-tinted blonde in color— thick and shaggy, and neatly spilling in waves around a headband that proudly sported a high-dollar brand-name you've never seen anyone wear in person before. G U C C I, it read— Meaning that the headband alone was probably worth more than some of your college text books, put together. It sat just a few inches above a pair of dark brows, that oddly brought out the shape of his cat-like eyes— irises like polished marbles. His ample lips had a sharp, well-defined Cupid's-bow, and a natural shade of pink that fit the porcelain appearance of his melanin-kissed complexion, to the finest degree.

And here you are, looking like an actual bum. You had just enough time to clock out of work and head straight over here to make it in time. You didn't even have any makeup on, and the only thing hiding your raggedy hair from those captivating eyes is your old baseball cap from high school. It took a second for him to take the bold presence that was Park Jimin— who was also frozen to the spot as he openly checked the guy out. He was hunched over the counter, a v-neck hoodie covering the rest of him with a thin, loose-fitting material. It was Black and allowed a full visual of his tan neck, and prominent collar bones. And it certainly didn't hide the fact that he had a pair of wide-set shoulders, either. A pencil sat in his hand— one that was laced with masculine veins, and lot of decorative ink. There was a silver ring on his thumb.. and a very heavy-looking Rolex watch.

The man cracked a grin at Jimin— a boxy one that dimpled in at the corners.

"Love the hair," he humorously began, twisting a quirky eyebrow at Jimin. You subconsciously snagged the bill of your hat as your eyes went a little wide at how mature the man's voice was.

"Love the watch," Jimin retorted, then reached around and gripped you by the wrist before pulling you into full view beside him. "You wouldn't happen to be Taehyung...?"

"Mhm," the man hummed, absentmindedly moving his wrist at the mention of his watch. His eyes cut over to you, and you swore you could see a minuscule reflection of yourself in his eyes, before they flashed back at Jimin and blinked. "You must be the babydaddy?"

Blood rushes to your ears. It's really him... a guy who looks like a high-dollar model himself, asking you to be his canvas model. Your own conscious didn't even know what to say right now. So you stayed quiet and still as Jimin took charge... which was a mistake.

"She wishes, but no. I'm the best-friend— and a gay one, at that," Jimin replied, and you knew he did that for his benefit. Thot. "I'm just here to make sure you're not gonna sacrifice her to Satan, or anything of that nature. I need her around in case I ever forget the Netflix password."

Taehyung chuckled at that, mouth opening to reveal a row of teeth shinier than Chip Skylark's. But then, you caught something behind his teeth that caused your gut to leap. A silver ball... a tongue ring. Your thoughts clouded over for a second.

"Well, I can assure you, she's safe with me," he said, looking over at you again. You blinked, nothing more. His brow arched at your lack of response, but this time, it was done more handsomely as he was still smirking at you. "Still, you don't look too thrilled to be here... You sure you wanna do this?"

"She's just nervous because you're really fucking hot," Jimin announced, unyielding. "You should feel how sweaty her hand is."

"Don't listen to him— I'm gay too," You lied in panic, trying to defend yourself from the absolute truth Jimin spoke just then. You snatched your hand away from him and jutted a finger at the door, eyes beading and lid twitching as your nerves ran amuck. "Goodbye, Jimin."

"She's a lonesome hetero," Jimin told Taehyung, assuring him with a face that showed no bluff. "One look at her camera roll, and you'd see for yourself—" You were yanking him away by the arm now, in a tug-of-war game that Jimin obviously could've won if he really wanted to. But he figured you suffered enough and eventually let you drag him out of the shop, waving bye to Taehyung before turning to look at you with beading eyes.

"I think he wants to fuck you— text me as soon as you can," Jimin uttered with unmoving lips as before he walked to his car. You stopped for a second, noticing he was actually being serious. How could he possibly think that he wants to fuck you, just from that small encounter? And what is the odd sensation currently coiling in your stomach? Things grew awkward again when you re-entered the shop, coming to a stand at the same spot... only alone now. He was still amused, it seemed. And so calm and cool despite this odd, intense look in his eyes. It gave him a Casanova effect, where all he had to do was give you that look and it'd instantly make you blush.

"He seems like a fun person to be around," he noted, somewhat honestly, but more so making fun of the red-hot appearance of your face.

"He's a pain in the ass," you muttered, trying to conjure up a smirk but hardly even able to speak properly from how dry your mouth was. It felt like there was a white-hot iron expanding in your throat. "I'm really sorry about him."

"Don't be. I'm just glad you're here— thought you'd chicken out." You nervously wiped your clammy palms over the back pockets of your jeans as Taehyung got up from the barstool behind the counter and approached you on the other side of it, a whole head-and-a-half taller than you. He was wearing black cardigan jeans and matching combat boots.. his headband and jewelry the only thing not black on him. And oddly enough, he made it look fucking fantastic.

"Mh-mm," You hummed, not trusting your voice. You've never needed a sip of water so bad in your life— he even smelled expensive.

"Well, It's very nice to meet you," he formerly began, and you mustered up the normality of placing your (dried) hand into his much larger one, as he held his out to you in greeting. And boy, was he close. So close that the heels of your spine itches to lean back from the proximity.

"It's nice to meet you, too. I'm really sorry if I'm acting weird. I'm just nervous." — Your mind struggled to stay focused on your words, arm tensing at the skin-to-skin contact. You were extra-effected by the firmness in his grip. You really wanted to look down at all the bold ink you saw dashing across the veiny surface of his tanned hand, or see if those were images or scripted letters on the knuckles of lengthy fingers... But you were held captive by those God-blessed eyes... And that fucking tongue ring. It was infecting your head in ways that weren't necessarily healthy for your current state of mind, as you saw it peering in and out at certain words.

"And physically shaking," Taehyung pointed out, brows twitching down at your trembling hand in his as if he was concerned for it. But his smirk gave off an odd sense of fascination to the involuntary symptom, like it was cute or something? Hm. He glanced back up at you, causing your dehydrated throat to bob as his other hand came to clasp over the rest of yours, swallowing it completely from the wrist down. "Intimidated?"

"V-Very," you spluttered, a small slither of saliva copulating down your throat as you looked back up at him. He absentmindedly rolled his tongue ring over the button row of his teeth as he watched you with tainted eyes— undoubtably getting cocky with that damn grin of his and proudly teasing you about your reaction to him. It gratified the effortless sex-appeal he had. You were even beginning to imagine that tongue ring elsewhere, and you literally just met him. Then, as you felt the band of a ring move along with the pad of his thumb as gently ran it across your trembly knuckles, chills shot up all the way to your shoulder. Oh... oh wow. You glanced down at his knuckles on reflex this time, and saw a four-letter word scripted in black ink across the bottom row of his knuckles, and another word scripted on the middle section of his fingers. A silver band on his naked thumb. STAY TRUE, it said.

"And why's that?"

"I.. feel like you're a celebrity," you sheepishly admitted, your other hand wedging into your back pocket as you had to stop yourself from reaching for the bill of your hat again. Is he flirting? The words seem too innocent for the way he was making you feel. It was getting so hot in the oven of his massive palms, and he wasn't even squeezing you hard enough to cut off any circulation, but yet your fingers were beginning to tingle.

"Mm, no. Just a little popular, really," he granted, teetering his head a little as he pondered the thought. You could see his vocal chords contract in his sleek neck as they project his smooth, pungent voice. "You still trust me?"

"Mhm," was all you could muster. He'd gotten even closer, to where his hand had gone into a prayer stance around yours. You were aware of how wide your eyes had gone from the awe you... you knew this was just the beginning. He was going to be very handsy throughout this whole process. But in a very twisted way, you were more than okay with that. Even if it meant you were at risk of fainting from actual dehydration. Maybe you were in over your head. But you couldn't will yourself away from this now. And then, just as a wide, heart-stopping smile edged out on that mind-numbingly handsome face, the door at that back of the room swung open, and heavy-metal rock blasted through the quiet vibe of the scenery and caused you to jump a little at the disturbance. Taehyung shot a wicked smile over his shoulder, and his next words nearly knocked you out right then and there as you beheld yet another, breathtaking sight.

"Oh, there you are," Tae eagerly acknowledged, one hand still holding yours as he walked around to grab your with the other, presenting you to the.. hulking presence in the room. "This is (Y/N), our next little experiment."

[robinrunsfiction]

More smutty vampire Mikey w/fem-reader. pls and thank you

Vampire-tine’s Day 2021 - Day 3

Pairing: Vampire!Mikey Way x Female Reader Rating: Mature (Smut) Requested By: Anon Word Count: ~1,550 Author’s Note: My depression gave me a slight reprieve, so you finally get this story! Although it is a couple days late and not at all proof read so 🤷🏻‍♀️

You’d gone past the place a dozen times, slowing down each time, trying to catch a glimpse of something, someone that would confirm your suspicions. After weeks of hesitancy, you couldn’t ignore the desire burning within you any longer, and decided tonight was the night.

The taxi driver kept glancing back at you in the rearview mirror as he drove you to the bar in the sketchy neighborhood, as if he was trying to pinpoint exactly what your intentions were. You tried to ignore the looks and keep your excitement and nerves in check. Maybe you should have asked a friend to come along for safety, but did you really want any of your friends to know you were going to, for lack of a better term, a rumored vampire sex bar?

Soon you found yourself standing awkwardly outside the bar, working up the nerve to go inside. The bass of the music playing inside was thumping through the walls, matching the heavy beating of your heart. The music suddenly got louder when the door opened and someone walked out and before it could close all the way, you darted inside.

A few heads turned to look at you as you made your way to the bar to order a drink. You tried not to stare as vampires bit and licked at the fresh wounds and running blood of the human patrons. After ordering your drink from the human bartender, you imagined how it would feel to have fangs sinking into your neck, how lightheaded you’d get from the loss of blood. A chill of excitement went down your spine.

“Can I buy you a drink?” A voice asked. You turned to see a very handsome dark haired man with a jawline that could cut glass standing over you.

“You’re a little late, I already ordered one,” you smirked as the bartender returned with your drink.

“Put it on my tab, Kev,” he said to the bartender who nodded. “I don’t think I’ve seen you in here before. I’d remember someone so beautiful.”

“This is my first time,” you replied, maintaining your composure despite the compliment.

He nodded, his eyes taking you in and you felt a chill. Just then the music turned up and he leaned in so you could hear him speak. “And you know where you are, right?”

“I do, and I know what I came for,” you replied, looking straight in his eyes to let him know you were not intimidated.

A coy smile tugged at his lips. “I’m Mikey.”

“(YN),” you replied before taking another drink. “So you come here often enough to have a tab and recognize when someone is new.”

Mikey laughed lightly and shrugged. “There aren’t many other places for my kind in town. People think we’re dangerous predators.”

“But you’re not?”

He smirked and leaned in even closer so his lips grazed against the shell of your ear. “I can be however dangerous you want me to be.”

When he pulled back, his eyes were darker, filled with lust that you were certain that matched your own. He reached up, cupped your cheek, and you leaned into the touch reflexively. He leaned back in and kissed you without hesitation and you immediately kissed him back. His hand trailed down so it was resting on the side of your neck and your heart flipped with excitement. As he deepened the kiss, one of his sharp fangs caught your lip, piercing the soft skin. You gasped lightly as you pulled back. Mikey brought his finger to your lip, wiping away the bead of crimson blood before licking it off his finger.

“Of course you taste incredible,” he murmured.

“There’s more where that came from,” you replied.

He leaned in and kissed you hard again. “Do you wanna go someplace more private?” He asked against your lips after pulling back just millimeters.

“Yea,” you breathed.

“Back room, or my place? It’s close.”

“Your place,” you nodded. The idea of hooking up with a vampire for the first time in the back room of a bar with dozens of other vampires within earshot wasn’t appealing. Maybe one day, but not tonight. Yes it was a risk going someplace else with someone you just met, but you trusted your instinct, and your instinct trusted Mikey.

He took your hand, leading you through the crowd and out into the night. The air was cool on your skin, and you realized you hadn’t noticed how warm it had gotten in the bar. After walking a few blocks, you arrived at his apartment building. He led you to the elevator, and when the doors shut behind you, he turned to you, backing you against the wall. Your heart pounded as he leaned in, kissing you passionately, his hands on your waist pulling your body against his as you wrapped your arms around him. The elevator dinged, and the doors opened, bringing you back to reality and causing you to break the kiss.

Once inside his apartment, Mikey’s lips were back on yours as you kicked off your shoes and dropped your bag by the door. You pushed Mikey’s jacket off his shoulders as he backed you against the wall, hands sliding under your shirt, cool on your skin, as his lips moved to your neck, leaving the first of what you assumed would be many marks. A moan escaped your lips.

“Fuck, I love that sound,” Mikey mumbled against your neck.

“God I want you so bad,” you moaned as you ran your hand through his dark hair.

Taking that as his cue, Mikey scooped you up and in a flash crossed his apartment to the bedroom. Dropping you onto the bed and you pulled off your shirt and tossed it away. He followed suit before he crawled up the bed toward you. In that moment you felt like he was the predator, you were the prey, and you may cum at the thought alone.

“You’re gorgeous,” he murmured as he started trailing kisses up your exposed stomach, then over your chest, up to your neck, his hands roaming over your body, raising goosebumps along the way. “Like a dream come true.”

“Have you seen yourself?” You laughed before you realized what you’d said. “Shit, maybe not, sorry.”

“Don’t worry, I’m not offended,” Mikey laughed before leaning in to kiss you again. His tongue moved against yours, only his was cool, just like his touch. You realized his hips were pinning yours down and you felt yourself flushing with desire. You rolled your hips up in an attempt to get him to do something more.

"Mikey, please," you moaned. 

“So desperate,” he smirked.

“I told you I know what I want,” you retorted.

“I don’t think you were specific though,” he teased as he started kissing his way back down your body.

“I want you to fuck me, and then bite me,” you answered confidently.

Mikey looked up, surprised, before a wicked smile formed on his face. “I like a girl that isn’t afraid to ask for what she wants.”

It wasn’t much longer before both of you were totally unclothed and Mikey was attempting to hold your hips steady as he went down on you. His cool lips on your clit made shivers run down your spine as his long fingers moved inside you and you were writhing in pleasure, moans escaping your lips.

“Fuuuck, Mikey,” you moaned. “I’m gonna cum!”

“I love how you say my name,” he murmured against you. Moments later, you came around his fingers, panting for air.

“Oh my god,” you sighed.

“I’m not through with you yet,” he smirked as he sat back. “I haven’t even given you what you want yet.”

“Fuck,” you muttered as he started kissing his way back up your body. As he started kissing your neck, he pressed into you, eliciting another moan. You were already feeling overstimulated, but he was not about to relent.

“You gotta tell me when you’re close,” he said. “Can you do that (YN)?”

You nodded, but you were quickly turning into putty in his hands but you nodded as you bit your lip, willing yourself not to come too quickly.

“You feel so good,” he gasped into your ear. “I could do this forever.”

“Well I’m not gonna last,” you giggled, which turned into a sigh as he shifted the angle of his hips. “I’m really close, like really close I’m gonna-”

Your words were cut off when his fangs sank into your neck, and you came harder than you ever had in your life, moaning wantonly as he finished at the same time, drinking your blood as you rode out your high.

“Fuck,” you gasped, feeling completely wiped out, but more pleasure than you had ever felt in your life.

“That was amazing,” Mikey complimented from where he lay beside you.

“Better than I imagined,” you replied.

“Would you be interested in doing this again?” He asked.

“Tonight?” You asked, a little panic in your voice. “I don’t think I could handle that!” You laughed.

Mikey laughed. “No, I mean, another night. Maybe a date before?”

“Sounds like a plan,” you agreed, glancing over at him. He took advantage of the moment and leaned in, kissing you tenderly before you both slipped to sleep.

[wri0thesley]

replying to some anons under the cut so i dont spam ur dashes with like 10 asks in a row!

Anonymous said: How can you be so in love I’m jealous (But in all seriousness Its so nice that you’ve found someone that makes you truly happy)

being in love with haz is very easy because she is perfect 

Anonymous said: In my head Tiziano and Squalo have a private mentality about their job so their s/o doest know their team (but, unfortunately, their team knows their s/o) and for that i think it would be funny their reaction if by mere coincidence their s/o meet someone of their team, like imagine that they are coming back from a mission and s/o calls telling them "hi loves, i found one of your friends, he told me he knew you both and looked kind of lost so i brought him back to the apartment" and to their surprise they see s/o feeding cookies to Secco who is very comfy in their couch with s/o. Worst if s/o it's like "he told me to call someone, who it was? cio, oh, Ciocolata, but he lost his phone, do you have his number? also we need more sugar, i kind of use it all in his cookies". The bad part it's that now, Secco likes their s/o in a friendly way, so he keeps coming back for cookies and friendly pets, the good part it's that if Cioccolata gets weird Secco kind of distract him or get defensive of his "new friend".

honestly if your team includes cioccolata and secco would YOU introduce your lovely s/o to your team? i wouldnt either. secco is definitely taking advantage of their s/o’s lovely nature and their skills at baking cookies but at least it’s JUST secco and not cioccolata. YET. 

Anonymous said: Hi i just wanted to tell you that i think you are amazing, very kind and that i love your writting. Also you and Haz are a very cute couple 💕

thank you so much anon!!! ;_; i hope you are having a nice day! <3

Anonymous said: I’m obsessed with the faerie prince gojo au you proposed the other day would love to see more about that

i just fucking LOVE faeries. i think they are so cool and their mythology is so interesting. when i was thinking about that au i was getting back up to date with one of my favourite ongoing internet series, how to survive camping on nosleep on reddit, and they had a plot going with a faerie knight that stirred up my brain (i 100% recommend how to survive camping if you like cool worldbuilding and horror btw it’s SO GOOD). i may very well write a full-length piece for faerie prince gojo or maybe even some other faerie series pieces, but rn i wanna work on my requests and finishing a well-rounded education! after that . . . who knows >:3

Anonymous said: Omg you are a godsend nat, you’ve made me fall so much more in love with tiz and squalo AND sorlato 🥺please don’t ever stop I love your content but also don’t ever feel pressured to write anything you don’t want to (embrace the self-indulgence! :3) ❤️

ahh thank u so much anon! i am always here to spread the word of Sorlato Nonsense. i appreciate it when u guys tell me to be self-indulgent fdbghvnfgn

Anonymous said: Hello! I just wanted to know if you got my ask about Gojo and reader who is usually sweet but decides to "punish" or act out cuz shes annoyed with Gojo?? Alot of my asks have gotten eaten by Tumblr and I just wanted to make sure you got it!! >.< Thank you!

i did anon! <3 honestly tumblr is a barely functioning website but on this occasion we have been blessed by the tumbeasts

Anonymous said: Rehead Formaggio and blue-grey Formaggio feel like two different sides of the same coin but ultimately gove off two completely different vibes and idk how to feel about it (in a good way)

i guess it’s all of the extra red in his colour scheme but redhead formaggio just seems like Slightly More Of A Pal. also more of a thot, i cant believe that david pro said ‘no we will give him a full shirt’ instead of letting him have his weird little cut-out hole grid thing. idk something about manga formaggio just is more appealing to me Visually fgnjkbjngf

Anonymous said: I saw someone asked for your requests of Choso, but what do you have in your inbox for Nanami? 👀

NANAMI REQUESTS: - nanami with a clumsy s/o - jealousy sex n aftercare with a chubby reader - comfort scenario with nanami and a transmasc reader - nsfw scenario that turns into fluff - nanami teasing and edging a fem s/o - gojo and the students arrange a surprise date for mutually pining nanami n reader - poly gojo/nanami relationship hcs - nanami receiving a lapdance from his s/o (but i have reqs for lapdance headcanons in general for jjk men so i might combine them!) - also hc requests that include nanami: confident and headstrong reader who turns out to be shy in bed, gojo and nanami helping crush through a breakup, how they react to s/o getting injured whilst fighting beside them. 

Anonymous said: Ahh Nat thank you for allowing me to scream into your inbox abou jjk! And this is not /really/ a theory but a confusion/rant! You know, since Jogo, Hamani and Dagon (I hope I wrote their names right) got introduced I was confused as to why they aren't older. I thought each of them represent nature/natural disasters and humanity has feared them since the dawn of mankind! Also why did Mahito only recently gain self-awareness if humans have always been horrible to each other? Shouldn't he be v old?

honestly i kind of got the impression that especially hanami was pretty old! afaik mahito’s the only one who’s described as being specifically ‘new’, maybe they’ve just been hanging around waiting for someone like getwo to appear who they think can actually make a difference/combine them!! i think maybe it’s also to do with the ‘rise in power’ that we’ve been hearing lots of talk about in the last few chapters, that there’s just A LOT of cursed energy flying around and it’s making everything happen all at once? humans have always been horrible to each other i think but i wonder if it’s also to do with how much more the earth is populated now and how much easier it is to be horrible and hear about horrible things other humans have done to one another? 

[avengerscompound]

The Ritual

The Ritual: A Captain America Fanfic

Buy me a ☕ Character Pairing:  Steve Rogers x F!Reader

Word Count:  2026

Rating:  E

Square filled: @star-spangled-bingo​ - Shaving Kink

Warnings:  Smut (MF vaginal sex, shaving kink I guess)

Synopsis: When Steve gets home from a mission, he has a ritual to help him feel more like himself.  The two of you get a little more out of it than just him getting clean.

The Ritual

The sound of the door opening startled you.  You hadn’t expected Steve home so soon and as he came through the door you jumped up and ran to him, throwing yourself into his arms.  He let out a soft huff as you crashed into him and laughed softly as he closed his arms around you.

“You know,” he said as he lifted you off your feet and carried you inside.  “If you make coming home so good, I’ll just end up going away a lot more regularly.”

“No, that’s not how it’s supposed to work,” you said, nuzzling at his neck.

He was a little worse for wear.  Not beaten up exactly.  He’d come home in pretty bad shape on occasion.  Bruised or broken ribs were a pretty common injury.  As were gashes that required a few stitches.  Often on his head.  More than once you’d been called into the medbay because he’d been knocked unconscious.  So for Steve, it wasn’t so bad.  Mostly he was dirty and he looked exhausted.  You assumed he probably hadn’t slept or showered much or even at all since he left.  He had at least a week's worth of beard grow in.  Not really enough to say it was a beard, but it was more than just a shadow of facial hair.

He set you back down on your feet and leaned in and kissed you deeply.  His scruff scratched your skin making your lips tingle and feel a little numb.  He had that pungent caustic smell of sweat and dirt and you pulled back and wrinkled your nose.

“Honey…” you hummed, running your hands down his sweat-stained compression shirt.

He knew what you wanted right away.  Not that it was going to be an unreasonable request.  This little almost-ritual you’d developed had started because it was always the first thing he wanted to do when he got home and you had just injected yourself into it.

He chuckled and turned you around.  “Yes, you can.  I’ll shower first though,” he said.  “You go get the towel and chair while I’m in there.”

You clapped your hands and skipped off to the kitchen to boil some water.  By the time you’d steamed a towel, dragged a chair into the bathroom and set up everything, Steve was stepping out of the shower.

The room was full of steam because Steve always showered hot, and he dripped water on the floor as he grabbed his towel and wrapped it around his waist.  It sat low on his narrow hips so that the defined lines of his Adonis’ belt drew your eyes down, leaving only your memory of what was under the white cotton.

He drew you close to him as he still dripped with water and left a wet handprint in the middle of your back to balance the entirety of the front of your clothes as he pressed you against his unyielding form.

“You smell good,” you hummed as you breathed him in.  It was soap and sandalwood and salt.  He kissed your neck just under your ear and grazed his teeth over your skin.

“You taste good,” he mumbled against your skin.

“Steve,” you moaned his name like it was the lyric of a song and pushed him back towards the chair.  “Not yet.”

Steve sat and looked up at you and you grabbed the hot towel and wrapped it around his face.  He hummed and leaned his head back, his muscles visibly relaxing.

You pulled your straight razor and began stropping it along the leather strap you’d attached to the chair.

Steve liked a clean shave.  He always had and despite how much you might like the feel of his facial hair against the soft skin on the insides of your thighs, he hated growing it in.  When you met him he always shaved with the shitty disposable razors you could buy at gas stations and dollar stores - ten to a pack.  You would sit on the vanity and watch as it methodically removed any trace of hair from his face trying to reason with him that he could maybe let it grow in a little.

There was something about watching the razor slide over his skin though.  The deadly sharp blade dragging over such exposed areas, again and again, was sexual in its own way.  One day you'd asked if he'd let you do it and he'd agreed.  And despite the fact, you'd nicked him in four different spots and you'd run the razor in the wrong direction he seemed to quite enjoy it.

You'd really enjoyed it.  The intimacy of it.  The trust involved.  The sound of the blades cutting the hair.  Even the smell of the shaving cream.  It had this strange level of eroticism you had not expected and after you'd wiped the last of the cream from his face, you'd ended up fucking him right there on the bathroom counter.

After that, you'd gotten really into shaving.  You'd looked up tutorials and bought books about it.  You'd invested in equipment.  And if using one of the cheap plastic razors had turned you on it was nothing compared to how it felt to use a straight razor.

You put the blade back in its holster and unwrapped the towel on Steve’s face.  He looked up at you with a sleepy content expression and you grabbed your cup of shaving cream and the brush and began applying the cream to his face.  It had a strong astringent scent, but there was an undertone of lemon and cedar to it too.

When there was a thick lather on his face you took out the razor and began to shave.  You started with the tricky little spots.  Under his nose and near his ear.  You then began to shave his cheeks.  The blade slid smoothly over Steve’s skin making a soft scratching sound as it sliced through the coarse facial hair.  There was such an odd and specific mixture of things at work that blended together to be such a turn-on for you.  The blade itself and the way it was used was incredibly sexy.  From the thick leather stop that you used to realign the edge.  To the shape of the razor, the shine of the blade.  No one would argue that the aesthetics weren’t appealing.

The cut of the razor was incredibly sexy too.  There was a reason why a straight razor was used as a murder weapon in so many films.  It was deadly sharp as well as aesthetically pleasing.  When you ran the blade down his skin it cut the hair so close there wasn’t even the shadow of it showing.

The main thing that got to you - the thing that went right to your core - was how he trusted you.  You tilted his head back and ran the blade down his throat.  His Adam’s apple bobbed up and down as he swallowed and his towel tented at his waist.  He trusted you.  He trusted you to not intentionally hurt him, which was good in itself.  Steve had a lot of reasons not to trust people.  If you were some kind of sleeper agent you were in the perfect position right now to take out Captain America.  It wasn’t just that though.  He also trusted in your skill.  He knew you weren’t going to accidentally hurt him either.  That you handled that razor like an expert.  That… that’s what really did it for you.  This was something that Steve thought was important and he knew you were the best person to do it.  Not only that, but your competence turned him on.

By the time you were running the blade down the last patch of skin, Steve was rock hard and you were dripping for him.  You cleaned up the stray areas you might have missed and wiped the little spots of shaving cream from his face.  He opened his eyes and looked up at you as you grabbed the aftershave balm.  The usual light blue of his eyes was blown out completely.  You began to massage the thick, honey-scented balm onto his skin, soothing it.  He hummed contentedly and reached up, cradling your jaw as he looked up at you.  You smiled down at him and grazed your teeth over your bottom lip.  “Feel like you again?”  You asked.

“Mmm… nearly,” he said and guided you down to kiss him.

It was tender and loving but there was a heat to it.  His tongue teased your lips apart and you flicked yours out to meet it, dancing them together.  You moved around him without really breaking the kiss, just repositioning your lips in small increments until you were in front of him, straddling his lap and bracing your hands on his shoulders.

He pulled you down into his lap and ground his erection up into you.  You rolled your hips against it.  Your panties soaked through with your arousal as the two of you kissed and moved against each other.

Steve pulled back slowly, dragging his teeth over your bottom lip and he looked up into your eyes.  “I missed you,” he said in a breathy growl.  He picked up the straight razor and flicked it open again.

Your tongue flicked out, brushing over your bottom lip.  “I missed you too,” you breathed as he collected the fabric of your dress in his hand.  He pulled it out away from your body and then used the razor to cut the fabric right down the middle.

You gasped and your cunt clenched as a shiver ran through you.  “Steve,” you said, the sound somewhere between a moan and scolding.  “You’ve ruined my dress and my razor.”

He chuckled and carefully put the razor away again.  You nuzzled at his neck and ran your hands over the hills and valleys of his muscular form.  When the razor was safely in its holster he ran his hands down your back and over your ass.  You hummed and kissed him, letting your lips graze over his.  He tilted his head and deepened it.  It became frantic and hungry and you rutted your hips in his lap wanting nothing more than his cock inside you.

Without any warning, he lifted you and slammed you into the wall.  You braced your feet against the cold tiles as his hips rutted into you.

“Please, Steve,” you mewled, your fingers digging into the thick muscles in his shoulders.  “Give it to me.”

He reached a hand between you and tore the crotch out of your underwear and with a snap of his hips he was inside of you, his cock stretching you and filling you completely.  You adjusted to him quickly.  Your bodies used to each other, fitting together like puzzle pieces.  He felt like home.

He began to thrust his hips, rolling them with every forward movement, pushing you into the wall and swirling his cock inside you.  You kissed hungrily, your head feeling light from the lack of oxygen, and your lips going numb and tingling against his.  Your body responded to his.  Ached for it.  You fell apart with each movement he made.

He broke the kiss and bowed his head.  You thrust your chest out and he pulled a nipple into his mouth as he slipped a hand between the two of you and began to rub your clit.

It was too much.  A hot current tore straight through your core and all your muscles clenched at once, your fingers clawing at his back.  With a loud cry, you threw your head back and came hard.  Your body seizing up and clenching around Steve’s cock.

He grunted and picked up his pace, fucking your through your orgasm, dragging it out so that it was all you were.  You buried your face in his neck and whimpered as you cunt fluttered and squeezed his shaft, milking him.

He grunted and released inside you, moaning and pushing you hard against the wall.  “Fuck,” you gasped, tugging on his hair.

He hummed and pressed his lips against your neck, slowly slipping from within you and setting you back on your feet.  You kissed your way down his neck and over his collarbone.  “Feel like you now?”

Steve smiled and wrapped his arms around you, holding you closely against him.  “Yes.  Now I feel like me.”

[rjhpandapaws]

Secure the Stage

Chapter 5: Smoke Alarm

//Tw: Withdrawal, and referenced transphobia

When Allen had offered to be Silas’s smoke distraction the last thing he had expected was his phone to ring in the evening during his classes. He looked down at his watch to find Silas’s contact name aglow on his wrist. He grabbed his bag as he patted himself down for his phone and stepped out of the lecture hall. He answered his phone as soon as he found it, “Hey Silas.” “Hey, uh,” He sounded distant and distressed, “I know its a week night and you’re busy, but I’ve already had two and I’m debating the third.” He sighed harshly into the mic, “Could you maybe meet me at the theater?” Allen looked back to the door of the lecture hall, “I have classes tonight Silas, I can’t just leave. Could you come to the university? I can have you as my guest if you would like.” He heard the familiar click and stutter of the lighter a few times before Silas answered, “It won’t be bad for you that I’m there right? I just can’t be alone right now.” “I promise Silas,” He reassured, “I’ll meet you at the student resource building alright? Let me know when you’re heading out.” “I’m waiting on a cab right now.” Silas responded flatly still clicking the lighter, “So it will be about twenty minutes. Sorry for disrupting your classes.”

Allen rolled his eyes, “I’ll meet you at the quad then, I’ll bring food and coffee and you can tell me what’s up.” He got a hum of affirmation from Silas and hung up. He went back to class and found himself distracted for the rest of the lecture. He was checking his phone pretty regularly as he waited on the text message from Silas. It was near the end of class when the message finally came.

Theater Bitch <3: I’m here and looking for the building. Allen: Alright. I’m on my way.

He stepped out of the lecture hall again and made his way to the student resource building. He swung by the bookstore and grabbed two canned coffees and a couple of premade sandwiches. It wasn’t the greatest, but it was the best he could offer since all the campus cafes were closed. Silas was easy to find once he got to the quad. He was back away from everyone else and was rolling his lighter over his fingers with practiced ease. There was a cigarette tucked behind his ear and he straightened up when he saw Allen. His was face was red and it looked like he had been crying recently. He was in a sweatshirt and pajama pants, he hadn’t bothered to put himself together. Whatever was bothering him had to be pretty bad for him not to have bothered with appearances.

“Distraction or advice?” He asked when he got to Silas. He held out on of the cans, “I know its not as good as the hot stuff, but its the best I can offer for now.” “Distraction please.” Silas responded lowly as he put the lighter away and took the offered can, “I don’t want to think about anything and my usual distractions aren’t holding their appeal.” That sentence alone left Allen with more questions than answers, but he didn’t press, “Would college classes be enough of a distraction or do you need something else?” Silas opened the can and gave a nod, “I can try classes. I haven’t taken any gen ed classes since high school.” “My next class is calculus so we should probably head for the math and science building if we don’t want to be late.” Allen said as he turned to lead the way. Silas groaned from behind him, “I am fucking horrible at math so this should definitely do the trick.” Allen was glad for that at the very least. He didn’t know what it was that was eating at Silas and even though his curiosity was killing him he wasn’t about to ask. He was just he could help. Even if it was something as simple as dragging him along to his calculus class. His professor was kind enough that she probably wouldn’t mind the guest, or so he hoped as much at least.

Ms. Ray only raised an eyebrow at the sight of his guest but didn’t say anything about it which he appreciated. It could also have been due to how clear Silas’s discomfort was, he didn’t know and he wasn’t about to ask. He took his usual seat at the back of the class and Silas settled beside him after moving the desk so they could both look at his book. It seemed like Silas would at least be attempting to participate in the class. As promised Silas was absolutely horrendous at math, but Ms. Ray didn’t seem to mind stopping to explain things to him. While he didn’t seem to understand it anymore clearly he still tried his best. It was interesting at least to see Silas’s thought process. Allen’s other two classes went similarly. Silas seemed to distract himself by burying himself in work. Which looking back shouldn’t have been as surprising as it was. In all of the time he had spent with Silas he had always been doing something. He hadn’t known Silas to ever be idle. They had eaten the sandwiches between his calculus class and his psychology class. Silas still looked occupied by whatever was on his mind. He was fidgeting with his cigarette lighter more often than before. Allen wanted to ask, but Silas had specifically asked for a distraction. He just didn’t know what to do. For as much time he had spent with Silas, he didn’t actually know him all that well.

They were walking back toward Allen’s truck and he was nearly startled by the suddenness of Silas’s voice, “I would kill for some really shitty black coffee.” The randomness of it caught him off guard, “We could go to like Denny’s or something I guess.” “That works.” Silas said with the first smile Allen had seen all night. It was far from genuine but it was better than nothing, “You can drop me off if you have other plans.” Allen shrugged as he unlocked his truck, “I was honestly just going to play games until I fell asleep so you aren’t interrupting anything. Don’t worry.” “Thank you.” Silas said as he got into the truck. He rolled his lighters over his fingers on the ride to Denny’s, pulled back into whatever thoughts had been haunting him tonight. Allen wasn’t sure what to do to get him back or to wait and see if he was ready to talk. “Would you like to play music?” Allen asked unsure of what else to do. Silas almost always had music playing, there must be a reason for that. Silas seemed to come back to himself for a moment, “Uh sure. You don’t mind if its slower stuff do you? I’m not in the mood for loud for a change.” He gave a laugh but it was humorless and unpleasantly fake. Allen hated it.

The in-dash screen gave away the artist which was one that Allen hadn’t heard of, but the playlist was titled was I Want to Feel Better. It broke Allen’s heart a little to see. The music was quiet compared to what Silas normally played, but the sound was calm and comforting. Silas was either singing or humming under his breath. Allen couldn’t tell because he couldn’t catch any of the words. Silas was back in his own head so Allen didn’t try and make conversation. He listened to the music and tried to be something steady in Silas’s moment of vulnerability. He didn’t know what to do for comfort because he didn’t know what was wrong or what Silas needed if he wanted his comfort at all. Some people simply wanted company as they worked through their thoughts. Silas didn’t really seem the type, but as it was Allen apparently didn’t know him all that well. He turned into the parking lot and Silas grabbed his phone to pause the music. It was pretty late so the parking lot was almost empty. Allen parked close to the doors and they got out. Silas hesitated for a long moment at the smoking area and Allen waited for him. He went so far as to reach for the cigarette behind his ear before he came back to himself and moved to catch up with Allen.

When they got inside Silas headed for one of the booths in the back corner of the near empty restaurant. He was playing with his lighter again, a force of habit if Allen had to guess. He at the very least tucked it away when the waitress came with their menus. The silence was starting to get to Allen and his curiosity was eating at his patience. He wanted to be a comforting presence, but he also wanted to know what he was comforting from. “Just ask Silas said after a long moment and the suddenness of it did startle Allen this time, “I can feel you staring at me.” Allen looked down at the table feeling guilty for not having a better hold on himself, “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to; but I was wondering why you called me. You sounded like you were really upset earlier and it looked like you had been crying.” Silas tapped his lighter against the table rapidly and sighed, “Have you ever experienced withdrawal Allen? Its painful and it messes with everything else. Those bad thoughts you have are louder, angrier, and much more persistent. The bad feelings are that much worse and the only thing that can chase them away is nicotine.”

Allen winced suddenly feeling like an asshole, “No, I can’t say I’ve ever been through that, but it sounds horrible.” Silas gave another humorless laugh, “Horrible is a word for it.” His voice rough, not quite harsh, but close, “I felt weak, I know it comes with trying to quit, it happens every time I try to quit. I think I am stronger every time as fools are known to do. Then withdrawal comes as a reminder that am not nearly half the man I am known to be without nicotine running through my veins.” He clicked his lighter open and watched the flame dance for a moment before he closed it, “In the eyes of some I’m not even a real man, just pretending.” Silas’s being transgender was not the thing that should have stuck out to him, but that was the thing Allen found himself caught on. He hadn’t known and he doubted he would have found out if Silas hadn’t gotten so lost to his emotions. “Thank you for trusting me with all of this. I know Denny’s isn’t exactly the best place to have this conversation.” “Buy me coffee and dinner and all will be forgiven.” Silas said somewhat sarcastically. “But honestly thank you for humoring me tonight. It helped a lot.”

Allen smiled even though the feeling of guilt was still lingering, “I’m glad I could help. Also knock yourself out, I can give you food in exchange for prying into your head. It seems fair enough.” Silas chuckled and for the first time that night it seemed genuine. Allen smiled as the waitress came with their coffee. Silas ordered his breakfast and Allen ordered an omelet with sour dough toast. He hadn’t been smart enough to order decaf so he privately kissed his sleep schedule goodbye. “I think not being able to actually go to classes is part of my issue.” Silas said as he set his mug down, “Having all this extra time to spend at the theater is nice don’t get me wrong, but I smoke to think and that might be messing with me.” He drummed the fingers of one hand against his mug and reached for the lighter with the other, “I need something to do to keep me occupied. Coffee almost works, but I have seen what caffeine dependency has done to my brothers. Its better than this probably, but it seems annoying.” Allen almost pointed out that they were currently drinking coffee at one in the morning, but kept that to himself. “I mean it could be a transitional thing I suppose. Have coffee every time you feel like smoking. Would that work?”

Silas gave another more genuine laugh, “I don’t think you realize how much you realize how much coffee I would drink in a day. Though I suppose it would be worth a shot, I could probably afford it with the money I don’t spend on cigarettes.” Silas looked like he was at least giving it some thought, “Other than drinking a concerning amount of coffee, this might actually help. Thank you Allen.” Allen lifted his mug in a cheers motion and Silas clinked his mug against it, “I’m glad I could help.” “Sorry for going off on you like that.” Silas said as their food arrived, “You were only trying to help.” Allen shook his head, “I pushed you to tell me and you weren’t ready to. Thank you for apologizing though. I appreciate it.” Their conversation fell away as they ate and they made small talk on the way back to Silas’s apartment. Allen felt like he had finally learned something about Silas for a change. It was better than those usual half answers he would get from him. It was nice. As he drove home he thought tonight was good even though he probably wouldn’t be able to sleep. He sent a message to check on Silas when he got home and received a coffee emoji as a reply. It was one of those nights he supposed.

[komahinasecretexchange]

Fools

Author: @izurusfattiddies/fxckthisfxckthat

For: @hadrian-pendragons

Pairings/Characters: Komaeda/Hinata, Nagito Komaeda, Hajime Hinata, and a splash of Izuru Kamukura and a few mentions

Rating/Warnings: Self Doubt, Hurt and Comfort

Prompt:  Hurt/comfort Hinata and Kamakura and trying to figure out Komaeda.

Author’s notes: This is actually my first ever Danganronpa fic! If the characters seem a bit off I apologize.  I had a lot of fun writing this however and I hope you like reading it!

Komaeda was certainly a man of… puzzling standing. While a seemingly normal person, the moment he opened his mouth made anyone jerk to a halt. He was needlessly self deprecating, and his mindset was far too complicated for most people to decipher. Even Kamukura had difficulty understanding him, though he wasn’t sure he wanted to. Then Komaeda would likely become boring. But Hinata wanted that. So they’d work together to figure him out. It couldn’t be that hard, right?

“I’m surprised you wanted to spend time with me.” Komaeda spoke as Hinata held out a trip ticket for him. Hinata sighs. “Of course I want to. You are one of my classmates.”

   “I’m not sure I’m worth wasting the-”

   “Where do you want to go?”

Komaeda paused then. Hinata could see the gears turning in his head, as if trying to figure out where Hinata wanted to go. A hand under his chin as he debated their options. “I suppose we could go to the beach…” And then they went off, changing into their bathing suits in their rooms. Though for a while, Hinata just stared into the mirror.

You know this won’t help, right?

“I just want to know him better, that’s all.”

You get attached too easily. It would be easier if I did this.

“You’re too cold. He’ll notice. He’s not an idiot.”

The little trip went well, though for the most part Komaeda stayed out of the water. They made a sand castle together, but a coconut fell on top of it as soon as they finished to Komaeda’s displeasure. He apologized for his luck ruining the event with the sweetest smile that almost made Hinata’s heart jump out his throat. Why was that smile so appealing? Hinata couldn’t tell you why but he just returned one of his own and reassured the other that it was fine.

But that smile kept him up that night. He couldn't wrap his head around why he felt the way he did. Hinata seemed to just be missing a piece of the puzzle. Izuru had other ideas however.

You l-

"No, I don't. I'm just curious about him."

...If you insist.

"I do insist."

Izuru seemed to have had their Hinata's feelings in order, much to Hinata's disappointment. The mystery of his own feelings had been solved by someone who couldn't feel in the first place. It was frustrating, to say the least.

The rest of the night is spent trying to figure out his own feelings and Komaeda. Trying to find out how he ticks. It didn't seem to click with him. All of those gentle smiles with such harsh words about himself. Holding everyone on such a pedestal due to their talent. His near obsession with hope. It was all just confusing.

The next day something suprising happened.

"Would you like to spend time with me? I know I'm not worthy of your time, but-"

"Sure, I don't mind." Hinata is quick to nip the self deprocation quickly. He has to admit, he's never liked when Komaeda goes on one of those tangents. "Any place in mind?"

Again, Komaeda seems to put just as much thought into his suggestion like the time before. "How about the library?" The curly haired male spoke up after putting far too much tought into his answer.

It didn't take long for them to arrive at the building due to the nature of the island's set up. Pushing open the large door, the two enter. Komaeda seems to be on auto pilot then, maneuvering over to a certain section, Hinata just seems to mirror his pattern, following behind. "Know what your looking for?"

Komaeda nods with a small hum, crouching in front of the shelve, running his finger along the spines of the books. He seemed so focused, to the point where Hinata didn't want to break his trance. Soon enough, he plucks a book from the shelf, standing and reading the back for a moment before nodding to himself. "I've been looking for this for a while," Komaeda spoke up then. "It just always seemes to disappear when I came to get it. Just my luck really." He let's out a small laugh and that leaping feeling came back, a faint blush threatening to creep up on Hinata.

Komaeda's laugh seemed to have this way of lighting up the room. He wanted to know why.

"Is there anything you want to read?" Green eyes blink curiously at him. To be honest, he wasn't very big on reading. He mainly came just to spend more time with him.

"Not really, but what's your book about?"

Those same green eyes widen slightly, blinking a few times. Was... Was he not expecting to be asked that?

"Ah, I'm not very good at describing things, however-" He hands over the book, attempting to give a rough summary. The book was supposed to be a romance novel, and it seemed intresting enough even though he had no clue of what was happening, since he was jumping into the middle of the series. "If you want to, we could read it together...?" Komaeda offered.  

Well a little reading wouldn't kill him.

Apparently Komaeda read much faster than him, having to wait for Hinata to catch up before turning the page. Though it didn't help that instead of reading he couldn't help but to let his eyes wander over to Komaeda, focused on reading with his head propped up on his hand.

Like the little frown on his face when Komaeda was focused on something. Or his little reactions as he read something, from having his eyes widen a bit to that frown deepening, to a ghost of a smile.

At some point during Hinata's reading. He feels something hit his shoulder. He's quick to glance over and what he saw caught him off guard. Komaeda had fallen asleep and fell against his arm.

Had his eyelashes always been white? Hinata never noticed before now. And he swore he saw faint freckles across his face. A part of him wanted to wake him up but it felt like doing that was a crime. For now, he just draped an arm over him so he wouldn't fall.

You should tell him.

Kamukura spoke up, as Hinata lie awake in bed once again.

"Tell him what?"

That you like him.

"Of course I do. He's my friend." He laid an arm over his head, staring up at the ceiling. At this point he had the pattern memories. He wondered if the other rooms had the same pattern.

Don't lie to yourself. I see how you look at him. You're infatuated with him.

"Whatever."

Days turned to weeks, the two kept spending more and more time together much to their classmates' dismay. Stolen glances had been frequent among each other. It had been a wonder how neither had been caught, though Hinata swore he'd seen a blush creep up on Komaeda more than once.

But now it was the night before the end of their trip. Everyone had been celebrating how close they'd gotten, and they were enjoying their last night together in this strange predicament regardless of the storm outside.

Hinata didn't mind sticking to the wall, occasionally chatting with his fellow classmates. However there was something missing. Well, someone to be more specific.

He hadn't seen Komaeda in the past couple of hours which was strange. Komaeda might not have always spoken up much in the group, but he always lingered near by. Hell even Nanami had been chatting, playing video games with some of the others.

He decided to go find him and drag him back if need be. The rain had picked up significantly since the party had started, Hinata being drenched with minutes of being outside. He looked around the hotel, even going to check Nagito's room and having no luck finding the male. He keeps looking however and it pays off, finding Komaeda sitting on the beach.

He's soaked to the bone, curls clung to his face as he stares out into the ocean. He looked like a wet dog, to put it nicely. Hinata makes his way over, standing next to the other.

"You're going to get sick out here, you know that right?"

Komaeda flinched hearing a voice he hadn't expected, though he looked up with a smile. "I'd get sick regardless Hinata. You of all people should know that."

He sits down next to the other then. "Gonna tell me what's got you out here?"

The response he gets is a shrug as he returns to staring out at sea. "I know I should be happy, that we all get to leave but... I'm not."

"Want to tell me why?"

"It's pointless."

"I'm not so sure about that."

A few moments pass in silence, though it never feels uncomfortable, like when a conversation falls between two close friends, enjoying the silence and each other's company.

"Do you think we'll keep talking?" Komaeda finally spoke, breaking their mutal silence.

"What do you mean? Of course we will. I mean, we did spent time together as a class-"

"That's not what I mean."

"Then what do you mean?"

"My luck gets people taken from me, Hinata. People die, or abandon me, or worse. I'm a hazard. Being around me is dangerous." Komaeda seems to curl in on himself then, pulling his knees closer.

"Maybe I like danger-"

"Don't say that!" Komaeda snapped, taking Hinata aback. He's not sure he's ever heard him yell before. "This isn't a joke! People have died because of my luck! I don't want to lose more peopl because of it! Not when I care so much for you!"

"Komaeda..."

"I've lost so much because of my luck!I can't lose you too! I've been trying so hard to hold you and every one here at arms length! Yet you just came back over and over!" It was hard to tell, but he knew some of the water on Komaeda's face wasn't just rain.

"Because I care about you Komaeda. I wanted to understand you, fuck I still don't fully.  You're an amazing person,  I just wish you'd see that." He tries to keep his voice calm, reassuring even. Though Komaeda's distraught look made that hard.

"You don't understand! My luck hurts everyone I love! I can't let you get hurt too because I love you too much!" The words blurt out before Komaeda can stop them. He's quick to try and get up and flee before Hinata grabbed his wrist.

"Komaeda I know the risks involved. I know you think you're dangerous but I know better. I know you have barely there freckles. I know your eyebrows furrow when you read. I know you have a soft spot for animals. And I know how I feel about you."

Slowly, Komaeda turns to face Hinata again. "You do?"

For once, Hinata reacted on impulse, pressing his lips against Komaeda's.   He felt him tense at the contact before melting into the kiss. Saying it felt like two puzzle pieces clicking together felt like something from that cheesy romance novel, but it felt right.

Slowly, they pull away staring at each other. "Hinata-"

Suddenly a loud cheering is heard and Hinata's face burns a bright read as he recongized the sound.

"They finally did it!" Mioda cheered loudly. It seemed at some point the class had gone after the two as well. He also sees Souda forking over some money to Kuzuryu. He looks back to Nagito, who had a big smile worn like a medal.

Yeah, he was okay with this.

[writingfromkitchenator]

The Demon, The Hunter, and The Halfblood

Masterlist

Crowley x Original Female Character

Chapters: One | Two | Three | Four | Five

Series Warnings: A/B/O series, some Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics, Alpha x Omega, obligatory smut warning here (as usual, no under 18′s please, specifics will be within chapter warnings as needed), violence, blood, fluff, angst, major character death, possession, swearing

Chapter warnings: Smut warning, slight non con, omega in heat, rough sex

Chapter 6

Words: 2,563

An odd silence sat in the room for a moment as Bobby, Sam and Dean let that sink in, Crowley barely holding back a smirk as it registered what this obviously led to.

“I need a drink.” Dean growled, getting up and quickly disappearing into the kitchen.

Sam cleared his throat.  “Okay…that was…”

“We all know what it was Sam,” Bobby said, shooting a glare at Crowley, who shrugged.  “If he hadn’t been a dick in the first place, Madelyn wouldn’t have been there.”

“It was hardly only my fault,” Crowley said lightly.  “Or do I need to remind you of a certain angel being involved in that as well?”

“It was still your suggestion Crowley,” Sam said, frowning at him. “And the fact that you even let it go that far…”  He shakes his head and stands.  “I’m with Dean, I need a drink.”

“You boys wanted to know the story,” Crowley chuckled as Bobby follows too.  “I can’t help it if you don’t like the truth, or where your minds wander for that matter. We have a child together, it had to actually happen at some point.”

He was greeted by silence, making him smile for a moment and then sigh.  They were right, not that he would tell them that, that he did let it go that far, but the truth was, at the time, he’d been more than a little curious at just how far she would push herself.  The longer it went on, the more he convinced himself that this could ultimately turn into something he could use.

Hindsight was a fickle thing, and he knew that that had been the turning point for both of them, not that either of them knew that at the time.

Crowley had been right in his assumption that she didn’t have many tablets left, after only a couple of days, he could see the beginning effects of heat on her.

“You could let me go so I can get you some more,” He said casually, ignoring her pacing, rocking a little on the dining chair.  “I’m sure that would be far more comfortable than what you’re currently going through.”

“Shut up,” Madelyn growled, her skin feeling clammy.  “Why do you always have to talk?  What’s wrong with silence?”

“I could do that if you wished,” He said.  “But then you’d have nothing to distract yourself from all those wonderful thoughts running through your head.”

Madelyn glared at him. “And like talking fucking helps. Just keep your mouth shut Crowley, and we won’t have a problem.”

Crowley smirked, but remained silent.  He could’ve made it worse for her, could’ve said all sorts of things to get her riled up, especially when cramps began to take hold, as much as she tried to hide it, but it was far more entertaining watching her do it to herself.

A few more hours passed and sweat began beading on her brow, the cramps growing worse.  She kept eyeing the door, no matter how much she knew that it was pointless, and the knife kept finding its way into her hand. Crowley didn’t know what she intended to use it for, but something kept going around in her mind.

His eyes never left her, knowing it was only a matter of time before she snapped, and he couldn’t help but starting to tap his fingers on the table.

A low growl left Madelyn. “Don’t.”

“We’ll, it’s hardly been a few entertaining days,” He said lightly.  “I was bound to get bored eventually.”

“Just…don’t.”  She said again, quickly tearing her gaze away. “I know for a fact that this is amusing you.”

“Resisting your base urges?”  He asked innocently.  “Now, why would that be amusing to me?  I haven’t had to be in Alpha mode for a long time darling, I almost don’t remember what-”

“Don’t!”  Madelyn snapped, a slight shake in her hands. “Just fucking stop.  I can control myself.  Especially in front of you.”

“The growing intensity of your cramps is telling me otherwise.”  He stretches his legs out in front of him, his arms resting back behind his head, very aware that she was watching his every movement, as much as she didn’t want to.  “Among other things.  If I were you, Omega, I would make a decision very quickly.”

It got exactly the reaction he was looking for, her body tensing, the hair raising on the back of her neck.  Subconsciously, her tongue wet her lips, but she glared at him as coldly as she could currently manage.

“Don’t flatter yourself, Alpha,” She growled.  “You are not that appealing.”

“You wound me,” Crowley chuckled.  “But we both know that’s not true, Madelyn.  You wouldn’t be so on edge if it were.”

“Fuck,” She muttered under breath, tearing her gaze away from him again.  “If you had just been fucking reasonable, I wouldn’t be here.”

“And if you hadn’t tried to get out, neither would I.”  He said.  “Yet here we both are.”

Madelyn’s breathing was starting to get worse, almost forcing air into her lungs.  It had been far too long since she’d had any sort of relief, and the doctors had indeed warned her after Crowley had gotten her to a hospital last time.  She’d go wild if she wasn’t careful, or wither away, which at the moment seemed like the preferable option to leaping onto the Alpha sitting there in front of her, a cocky smirk on his lips.

A growl rolled through Madelyn’s chest and she couldn’t help but bare her teeth.  “Fuck.”

Crowley just raised an eyebrow, watching her.

She couldn’t believe that she’d let herself get into this situation.  It was bad enough being saved by him the first time, but this, this was something else.  There was a line here that was about to be crossed if she didn’t keep herself together.

Growling, she stalked to the bathroom and Crowley listened as she turned on the shower, no doubt cold, to try and ease the ache.  Now that she was temporarily out of sight, he took a chance to adjust himself in his pants. It might have been some time since he’d last had to be in a position of Alpha, demons able to control the urges as they see fit, but it didn’t mean he wasn’t feeling it.

Madelyn was an infuriating temptation.  One he knew full well he shouldn’t actually give in to.

The whimper from the bathroom caught him off guard, his gaze moving to the door.  A lengthy silence followed, one that had him slowly stand, worry growing in his chest, the air in the room suddenly changing.  It wasn’t in his nature to care, but he knew that if anything bad happened to her, it would make his life worse than hell down the road.

Another whimper was cut off by vomiting and Crowley knew full well that Madelyn had pushed herself too far.

“Bloody stubborn…” He muttered under his breath, quickly looking around, seeing if there was anything that could break this infuriating devils trap he was in.  “Madelyn, get me out of this thing!”

“No.” Her voice was far too weak behind the door.  “I…I’m fine.”

“Stop being ridiculous,” Crowley growled.  “You are going to die if you push yourself much further, and that was not my intent of keeping you here.”

There was another whimper followed by a long silence again.

“Omega,” He growled low this time, throwing all caution to the wind.  “Get yourself out here.  Now.”

There was bang on the door, and it took a moment for it to open, Madelyn soaked through to the bone, her eyes boring into his, her arm clenched to her, the small blade sticking out of one, a steady drip of blood falling from the wound.

“Fuck…off…” She growled. “I…am…in…control…”

“Bullshit,” Crowley snarled, everything except her pushed to the back of his mind.  “Come.  Here.”

Madelyn’s knees buckled under her and she collapsed to the floor, breathing hard, a groan leaving her. She knew that she was out of time, but facing the reality of what that meant was not in her repertoire of what she could do about it.

“Fuck,” Crowley snapped. “Stubborn woman!  I cannot do anything in here!”

It was infuriating, they were only several feet apart, but neither of them could move.

Her clothes were unbearably tight and heavy on her skin, her heart rate pounding in her ears, the pain in her arm almost non-existent against the pain in lower stomach, her sense of smell completely flooded with the Alpha in the room.  Her hand clenched tightly into the carpet, a broken sob leaving her, fighting off the urge to throw up again.

“Omega…”

Crowley wasn’t sure what made him do it, a soft note in his voice, but he couldn’t just stand there and let her be like this.  This went beyond what he thought the situation ever would, and it was going to end right now.

He drew in a deep breath, crouching down so he could be as eye level as possible.  “Let me help.”

Madelyn can barely focus on his hand as it’s offered, tears in her eyes, a buzz in her mind, but she knew enough that this was her only way out.  Consequences could come later, the pain, the burning in her blood, it needed relief.

She was never sure how she made it to him, but as soon as their hands touched, Crowley pulled her to him, and she practically melted into his grip, her lips blindly finding his, a whimper lost in her throat as he took control.  The knife was pulled from her arm, something wrapped around the bleeding wound, but it all meant nothing to her as he picked her up and moved her to the table.

A moan left her as the wet clothes were pulled free, her skin exposed to his touch, his lips barely leaving hers.  It was almost painful, her body aching so much for any sort of contact, and she could practically feel herself trembling with anticipation, the need so intense.

His clothes were next, hands fumbling in the rush to get to her, to sate the need that had consumed her and was slowly consuming him, a low growl in his throat as she arched her body against him.  He pinned her down with his body, making her purr, leaving just enough room to be able to free himself from his pants.

Madelyn’s head threw back with a shuddering gasp as his cock brushed against her entrance, her core absolutely soaked and ready, Crowley placing open mouth kisses down her throat and chest, a low, needy growl rumbling through his chest.  Her legs opened up more, a desperate whine leaving her, before he sunk into her, her body arching as much as she could into him, mouth open in a silent scream as her body almost came undone in relief.

Crowley’s lips found hers again, a moan on his lips as he slowly brought her back to focus, not moving until she fully responds, her hands burying into his hair, legs wrapping around his waist.

All that mattered then, was relief.

Kisses became tongue and teeth, a hard rhythm building the two of them, fingers digging into skin. Madelyn’s body trembled with every thrust, unable to move beneath him, whimpers leaving her that were begging for release.

The desperation lead to an almost painful orgasm, a scream leaving her, tears springing up in the corner of her eyes, holding him tight as the waves of pleasure washed through her.  Crowley followed almost immediately after, a deep groan rumbling through his chest, his head resting on her chest.

They stayed like that for a long moment, bodies locked together, letting themselves come down, both breathing hard, skin kissed with sweat.  It had been so quick and desperate, that they had to let themselves catch up.

Crowley moved first, placing a few soft kisses along her skin before looking at her.  Madelyn’s eyes were closed, tears still running down her cheeks, but there was almost a sense of peace to her, one he honestly hadn’t expected to see.

He hummed and kissed the tears away, earning her gaze.  “I hope you know, you are a lot of trouble.”

Madelyn huffs in what he can only presume is a laugh, her eyes fluttering shut, seemingly content for the moment.  Crowley gives a small smile and shakes his head, carefully picking her up from the table, more than surprised when her arms wrap around his neck, her head burying against him.

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you had a change of heart about all this.”  He said quietly, heading over the bed.

“Shut up Crowley,” She mumbled against him.  “After my heat is over, this never happened.”

He chuckled, settling them both down as carefully as he can.  “That’s more like it.”

Madelyn stirred and frowned at him.  “How did you get out of the devils trap?”

“Wet clothes and blood isn’t exactly a winning combination,” Crowley grinned at her. “Aren’t you lucky that I’m feeling generous?”

She rolled her eyes. “If you were that generous, you would’ve gotten me off first before fucking me into the table.  That is definitely not the most comfortable sex I’ve ever had.”

He snorted in amusement. “You were hardly in a place to be even thinking of anything like that, and you certainly haven’t complained since I knotted you.  If I’m not mistaken, I don’t think you’re body would’ve handled anything else at the time.”

“And the table?” She asked, although there was amusement in her voice.

“Darling, the less I come into contact with a damned devils trap, the better.”  He said.  “Now, is this really going to be how this goes?”

Madelyn took a moment before she laughed softly, shaking her head and curling back up into him. “No.  It seems I’m going to owe you again after all.  I might as well just accept it.”

“We can discuss that later,” Crowley said, amused.  “Let’s just get through this uncomfortableness first.”

She doesn’t respond to this, the two of them resting.  The next time, Crowley waited until she initiated it, her lips pressing softly to his, and throughout the next week, it was like the rest of the world suddenly didn’t matter, something neither of them had ever experienced before.

“Crowley?”

Snapped out of his thoughts, he blinked, Madelyn standing there with a soft smile, Casey curled up in her arms.  “Love, what are you doing up?”

“She wanted to see you,” She said, still looking very tired. “She had a nightmare.”

Casey holds out a hand for Crowley, who smiled softly and got up, taking her off Madelyn, Casey quickly curling up in his arms.

“I’ve got her, you should go get some more rest.”  He said softly, making Madelyn give a grateful sigh. “Are you alright?”

Madelyn nods, kissing his cheek.  “Yeah, just tired.  Are you?”

“Nothing I can’t handle.” He smiled reassuringly.  “I drove your brothers to drinking.”

She chuckled, starting back up the stairs.  “Well, if you were telling them about what you were thinking about, it’s no surprise.”

Crowley gave a soft laugh, waiting till the door closed before he looked at Casey in his arms.  “Come on pumpkin, let’s find something to cheer you up.”