#Warm tone wall prints

[4homestylist]

Road to Sunset Canvas Wall Art | Panoramic Triptych Design

Take a journey through breathtaking scenery with this panoramic sunset road triptych wall art. Featuring vibrant hues of red, orange, and purple blending into a stunning sunset over a long open road, this artwork captures the beauty of nature and adventure. Perfect for living rooms, offices, or hallways, this multi-panel design brings depth, warmth, and inspiration to any space.

GIT IT BUY HERE

[esmartworld]

Vintage Floral Symphony

A giant central flower is surrounded by smaller floral motifs in this design, which features a symmetrical floral pattern. Warm, gentle tones predominate in the color scheme, which is mostly composed of pink, orange, and yellow hues. Its retro vibe and watercolor-like texture make it ideal for accessories, clothing, and home decor products. This design gives every good a hint of refinement and nostalgia.

Created By EsmArt!

[screampied]

whiny toji was something i did know i needed till now🧍🏼‍♀️

now what about whiny sukuna👀👀 in his domain👀👀

-👁️

riding sukuna until he whines ★

warnings. fem! reader, unprotected, whiney sukuna, brief choking, praise, dirty talk, premature ejaculation, mdni.

“oh, fine. do your worst, brat,” the curse would snicker with a sly grin stretching against the very curvature of his crimson pink lips. he’s not taking you serious.

then again, it’s rare for the sukuna ryomen to ever take you, his precious favorite human serious. you enlighten him so to speak, he cherishes the time he spends with you . . including the moments where you’re entrapped with him in his own domain. you’ve never had the patience though, as you’re straddling his lap— you’re hovering over his leaky tip and his fangs poke out into a mere, wicked smile. “givin’ up now? what’s with the hesitation, little one?” and a hand of his runs down the sides of your waist, a smirk pulling against his lips once he hums in amusement. “scared ‘m gonna stretch you out like last time?”

“no one’s scared,” you reply with an eye roll, pressing a chaste kiss against his mouth. sukuna hums, multiple eyes flickering at you, taking in your beauty. a broad hand of his slings around your waist before giving it a tight squeeze. “just shut up ‘n lie back, ‘kuna.”

“not likin’ that attitude,” he grumps—crossing the upper part of his two arms before parting his legs. he was very beefy, the size difference between the two of you was almost adorable. another broad hand of his brings you closer, a hiss snakes from his lips as he feels your folds gradually swallow his frenulum. “but like i said, do your worst. i’ll be nice ‘n try not to fall asleep, heh.”

you were always annoyed with the smug, complacent smile that’s forevermore printed onto the curses lips. as you’re taking him down, it feels warm. he groans at the way your gummy walls easily clamp down against him.

easy, two of his hands grab onto your waist before he leans back against his throne. “you’re too cocky for your own good sometimes, ‘kuna,” and his eyes flicker at you. the nerve, he’d let you get away with saying almost anything to him.

the only reason why—simply because you were known as his favorite,

“and you’re too bratty for your own good,” he replies back with wit, the roughness in his tone making you throb. sukuna was so close to your ear, you inch closer until you’re met with his chest. perfectly toned pecs—soft toned pecs rubbing against your own, you can feel how perky his nipples were, brushing against the fabric of his cottony made kimono. inside his domain— it was dark, a mere scary glimpse of his own perfect little world. and yet, here he was sharing it with you. he sucks his teeth, your cunt holds him tight, refusing to let go and his head goes back. “my, perhaps you’ve missed me a lot more than you let on.”

so cocky,

with an eye roll, you lean in for a kiss— the demon returns it, a free hand of his wrapping around your throat whilst you’re taking him fully.

your hips start to sway, picking up a decent rhythm before you moan in his mouth. he skims a thumb down the aisle of your throat, feeling the vibrations that’s continuously flees from your voice. so harmonic, the sweet sounds you always made for him was a song he’d constantly listen to if he could.

“ugh,” he grunts, pulling away—a glimmering mixture of his own saliva departs away from your lips as he stares at you blankly. he’s almost in disbelief. with your arched hips in mere constant rotation, a raw groan rips from his lips. he finds it cute. the small prints of your fingers wrap around his throat, never once leaving eye contact. “you’re a kinky little girl today, huh. got no right choking m-me.”

sukuna’s voice falters all of sudden, he lets off a sharp gasp. the plump tip of his dick abruptly thumping against a specific spot deep inside of your swollen cunt. it hits it again, and again, and again,

he’s getting a bit sensitive. sukuna’s caught off guard—especially with how not only you’re choking him gingerly, but resuming to grind your sweet hips against him. so warm, you ride his lap like it’s your own personal throne. the middle parts of his back slumps against his royal seat as he gnaws on his lip. his breaths become significantly heavy and he already sounds like he’s running out of breath.

languidly,

your hips stutter against him—the hefty size of his cock rummages all through your pussy before you conceal yet another moan.

sukuna groans, feeling you lean up close to pierce the crowns of your teeth into the depths of his skin. lolling out your damp tongue, you savor the curses taste. he tastes sweet, almost salty but of course candied. a hand of his reaches near the outer cusps of your ass before a long nail of his carved light against your skin. moaning yourself, you seep your tongue canines into his neck to leave a mark and he grunts— yet this time, instead of his usual gruff tone that booms throughout his infamous, blood-curdling domain, for the first time in centuries or ever, sukuna ryomen whimpers.

it slips out of him easily, and oh is he embarrassed once he sees the dumbfounded expression of yours turn into straight smugness.

the whine spews from his ancient lips and he’s not fond of this feeling at all— he’s so deep into the very pits of your lower abdomen, making you feel every staggering inch of his cock and he sucks his teeth in desperation. a finger of yours slips through his kimono, trailing against his sculpted abs before you lean up close to him to whisper.

“aw,” you giggle with a hum shortly following, the rupture his dick makes within you almost gives your legs a good enough excuse to give up. running a finger down his undercut, you’re met with the meanest glare. “all that sass and you’re a whiny baby, sukuna,” and you thrust your hips against him further. the massive weight of his balls slapping back against your skin and he tenses up. broad shoulders raise before he whines again, although this time— it’s from feeling you kiss near the neglected corner of his lips. “who knew the king of curses could be a cute whiner.”

“s-shut up, mortal,” he groans, the sensitivity of his cock repeatedly thrashes against your g-spot. sukuna’s too caught off guard that he doesn’t even realize he ends up finishing early.. too early,

thick stringy ropes end up shooting into you, it’s warm and sticky. you pause your hips—relishing in the hotness of his spurts of seed that trickles its way into you. sukuna’s spasming out underneath you, it’s so cute to see. his jaw hangs open, the most lewdest whimpers leaving out of his throat before the veins that run within his bulky arms pulse. he’s seeing everything but the vision; the vision of you straddling his lap, staring into his eyes with that cheeky grin.

submissive sukuna,

you lean in to kiss him whilst he’s still dumping an entire gluey load of cum into you. such satiny ropes, he sloppily returns the favor, breath heavy and sheets of sweat pouring down the sides of his face. “goodness,” and his voice— it’s not as confident as it was, you hear a slight tremor in it and it’s cute. he’s still heaving, clingy walls continue to grip around him before his fangs nip at your bottom lip. “a-ah, got me soundin’ like a worthless p—”

“shh, baby,” you purr, and he’s like puffy folding in your hands. once cruel and sadistic eyes—now all droopy and full of heart eyes at your very expense. he calms down from the strokes of your hand against his face and he shudders, trying to pull into another kiss but you stop him. he whines again. “oh, does the demon want another kiss?”

he nods, that same cute grump of a scowl returning to his lips before he sighs. “give me a kiss.”

“not when you ask like that, ‘kuna,” you tease and his eye twitches, again— the nerve..

he feels the way his cum starts to ooze out between your thighs and he glowers at you. such a baby, you lean in to kiss his pout away and his arms go back to being crossed. “say pretty please.”

“perish.”

“fine kiss yourself,” you roll your eyes with a sly smile, preparing to make your way off the demons lap until he holds you tight. two strong arms grabbing you,

so clingy . .

with a scoff, he looks away—a cute tint rising to his face before he mumbles. “give me a kiss, pretty please.”

“that’s a good demon,” you giggle, slinging your arms around him before pressing him a soft, wet kiss. he whines at your taste, wanting nothing more than to savor it. his tongue curls against yours before he feels your hips start to pick up again. he moans, his left thigh twitching before your bouncing accelerates. he was still so sensitive, and yet here he was, like dough mending underneath you.

a while after, you pull away and he pouts— hiding his face into the very crook of your neck. sukuna snarls, nibbling against your skin before whining out a low, raspy, “i- i need a minute,” and he hides more of his sweetened whimpers into your neck. “don’t move. we’re gonna stay like this, f-fuck.”

[ficmenrhot]

Minors DNI

Late night thoughts but…

Imagine Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley who was instantly enchanted by you the second you walked onto base wearing an innocent smile and a short skirt barely doing anything to hide your soft, plush thighs. You looked so out of place with your baby pink colours as you flounced amongst the tall, strong soldiers and pecked your dad, his Captain, on the cheek with a small grin that flashed your dimples. He groaned quietly, thankful for his balaclava to mask his slipped-up noise though the print of his hardened erection straining against the materials of his pants was undeniably prominent. What the fuck was wrong with him?

Later when his Captain, Price, called him over for a proper introduction, he played the facade of a restrained gentleman and even reached out his hand for you to shake (which he would’ve never offered to anyone else). Secretly, he just wanted to see the difference of your smaller palm swallowed beneath his larger, calloused hand, already mentally picturing the image of what your manicured nails would look wrapped around his cock.

“Princess, this is one of my best man. Meet Ghost,” introduced Price. Simon swore he saw your lashes flutter as you gazed up at him, tinted cheeks with pretty plump lips pulled into a small shy smile he couldn’t wait to corrupt.

“Call me Simon, luvie,” he drawled, his voice a deep yet velvety timbre which made an odd flutter erupt in your stomach.

Who could’ve blamed you when you ended up pinned against the wall in Simon’s room, your legs wrapped around his thick waist, his large hands cupping your bared ass as he rutted into you like a bitch in heat. He just seemed so nice….and if your dad had trusted him to bring you safely to your temporal stay after dinner, then why couldn’t you?

How convenient was it that his room was right besides yours? It wasn’t that he forced another soldier to swap with him for the night by abusing his authority.

A goodnight kiss grew heated when his gentle hold on your cheek turned into a grip around your neck, pulling your smaller frame against his toned muscles, letting you feel how much he’d been craving you the entire time since your arrival.

“You feel this, luvie? Can you feel how hard you make me, little tease?”

“Gonna be a good doll for me and help me feel better hm?”

His face buried in the crook of your neck, inhaling in your sweet scent and wishing he could engrave the sound of your soft whimpers, desperate moans and pleas into his mind as he stretched you out so good…pounding roughly into your tight heat with long, hard strokes that made your eyes roll to the back of your skull, digging faint crescents into his broad shoulders.

Sure, your cervix may have been bruised for the next few days, but the ache was worth it for the most life-changing marathon of blissed orgasm he gifted you. Lengthy fingers thrusting and curling against your sweet spot, his balaclava lifted high enough to attach his lips to your swollen clit, sucking and licking so expertly and tongue-fucking you into oblivion. Lapping at you to taste your sweet nectar after he brought waves of pleasure to wash over you again and again, then again.

“Little pussy so fucking warm and tight, mhm,” he groaned almost gutturally, “made to be fucked…made to be mine.”

“Know what this means, luvie? You’re tied to me now…forever mine to use and spoil and love…”

Simon delivered a small, firm squeeze to your neck when you responded with an incoherent mewl and not words.

“Say it.”

“…ah..nghm…” you were a whimpering mess, mind completely hazed with pleasure at this point, legs shaking, “…yours to use…and spoil and…love”

“That’s right, that’s my good luvie.”

With one final thrust of his hips and a low grunt, he released, filling you to the brim with warm, spurts of his cum and ensuring you were stuffed full with his sticky seed.

Now that Simon had a taste, he would be crazy to let you go. He was a man of many things but never a liar, and indeed, he’d intended to keep his promise of making you forever his.

Much to his satisfaction, the next time you returned to base after a few months, you were more than just a visitor for his Captain but his girl…

And when you ran up to kiss his cheek, he noticed, the slight curve of a bump forming beneath your soft pink sundress.

——————

A/N: Has it been a year? I don’t know, but I’m back and I’m in my COD era! Hope you enjoyed reading this. All likes, reblogs, and follows are appreciated, so are comments!

[hometoursandotherstuff]

I stumbled on this article about 29 Western Gothic Nursery Ideas and I'm so impressed. These ideas can be used for baby, but why not for inspiration for older children's room and adult decor? You gotta see these. This one is called "Mythical Creatures." According to the article, it introduces fantastic beasts like griffins and unicorns into a nursery. Deep jewel tones mixed with soft pastels create a magical yet calming space, perfect for stimulating imagination.

Moonlit Haven brings the peaceful charm of a moonlit meadow indoors. Soft blues and silvers mimic the glow of the moon, while plush moon-shaped pillows and serene meadow-themed wall art enhance the tranquil atmosphere.

Twilight Magic captures the whimsical charm of twilight. Deep purples and blues set a mystical tone, while twinkling fairy lights and mythical creature toys spark curiosity. 

Starry Enchantment brings celestial wonder, combining deep navy hues and silver accents. Star-patterned walls and a night sky ceiling inspire dreams of galactic adventures, while plush star-shaped cushions add comfort and charm.

Mystic Moonlight creates a dreamy nursery, using pale colors and silvery moonbeam motifs. Delicate, floating fabrics and lunar landscapes inspire a sense of wonder and calm.

Gothic Grove brings the charm of an ancient garden indoors. Rich greens and earth tones, paired with floral and vine patterns, create a lush, calming atmosphere. Dark wood furniture and soft lighting enhance the theme’s historic feel.

Eclipse Dreams features a theme inspired by the mystery of an eclipse. Dark colors contrasted with gold accents mimic the sun’s corona, while celestial patterns create a cozy, restful space.

Nightshade Nursery embraces deep purples and soft blacks, creating a secret garden vibe. Subtle botanical prints and shadowy decor inspire storytelling and imagination, while plush rugs ensure a cozy, magical space.

Willow Whispers brings the gentle grace of willow trees. Soft greens and earth tones create a serene atmosphere, while willow branch wall decals sway peacefully, making it the perfect setting for a soothing nursery.

Windy Whispers captures the gentle flow of the wind. Airy fabrics and soft, flowing designs bring a dynamic element to the room, while soft blues and grays create a serene space.

Celestial Dreams brings the night sky indoors. Starry patterns and glow-in-the-dark ceiling stars create a soothing, cosmic environment.

Fairytale Dungeon offers a playful twist, transforming the space into a whimsical medieval fantasy. Castle-like furniture, dragon toys, and soft, ambient lighting create a space full of adventure and charm.

Gargoyle’s Lair incorporates mythical Gothic elements with gargoyle figurines and rugged textures. Stone-gray tones and plush gargoyle toys create a unique space. 

Castle Dreams transforms a nursery into a storybook castle with royal murals, plush thrones, and regal fabrics. Purple and gold accents add a touch of nobility.

Midnight Meadows features calming nocturnal murals. Large wall art depicting moonlit scenes sets a peaceful tone, while indirect lighting enhances the magical nighttime atmosphere.

Gothic Spires draws on cathedral architecture, incorporating pointed arches and soft gray tones for a serene, collected space. Angelic motifs and stained glass details add to the calming environment.

Enchanted Sanctuary creates a magical nursery filled with mystical books and lantern-like lighting. Soft, muted colors and luxurious textures make the space feel warm and enchanting.

Ghostly Playroom introduces playful ghost motifs that create a fun, cozy atmosphere. Soft, pale colors and plush ghost-shaped pillows add whimsy without being spooky.

Lavender Maze brings intricate patterns and soft purples. Labyrinthine designs on wallpaper or rugs add a touch of charm, while simple furniture keeps the room calm and soothing.

Wraith’s Playground is a whimsical take using light, ethereal fabrics to create an airy, magical space. Pale colors and ghostly motifs make the room playful and calming.

Shaded Comfort focuses on muted grays and soft blacks, creating a subtle, shadowy atmosphere that’s perfect for quiet comfort. Soft, plush materials provide both coziness and sophistication.

Cheerful Spirits brings friendly, playful ghost motifs. Bright accents and ghost-shaped pillows add fun to the room, creating a stimulating yet cozy environment.

Twilight Cuddles captures the soft light of dusk. Dusky purples and shimmering fabrics evoke a peaceful, twilight sky, perfect for soothing before bed.

Storybook Charm brings classic fairy tale elements. Deep colors, ornate frames, and vintage toys create an enchanting, adventure-filled space.

Peaceful Tombs embraces the serenity of Gothic architecture. Arched doorways, soft lighting, and muted earth tones create a tranquil, retreat-like environment.

Mystical Reflections uses mirrors to create a sense of depth and magic. Reflective surfaces paired with enchanted forest-themed decor add an element of surprise and wonder.

Raven’s Haven brings the mysterious beauty of ravens into the room with dark, rich colors and plush raven toys. Artwork of ravens in moonlit trees adds a touch of Gothic elegance.

Sapphire Dreams creates a Gothic nursery with deep, calming sapphire hues and silver accents. Dark wood furniture with Gothic detailing completes the serene, magical space.

Gentle Guardians softens the traditional gargoyle motif into playful, friendly figures. Stone-gray tones and whimsical gargoyle toys create a balanced, inviting space.

https://learncalifornia.org/western-gothic-nursery/

[augustinewrites]

"i love hearing your voice first thing in the morning."

you roll your eyes, resting your phone between your cheek and shoulder. nevermind it's mid afternoon. "aventurine, listen—"

as expected, he does no such thing. "don't care why you're calling. just that you're calling."

you can practically hear that smug, handsome grin on his face. "about your assignment in penacony—"

"oh yeah, sorry i had to take a rain check on our date. i ran into a few bumps along the way."

"what date?"

"the one i'll be dropping by in ten minutes to finally take you on." you hear chatter in the background now. he must have just entered the building.

you quickly check your reflection in your office window. "with an explanation for your expense report i hope."

"so you do get my messages! did you see the picture i attached?"

you did see the shirtless hotel selfie he'd attached to the report. you'd done him a favour and removed it (and saved it) before sending it off to your colleagues. "you gave that trailblazer hundreds of thousands of credits for unapproved 'bribery costs,' as you've called them."

"yep," he confirms, popping the 'p.' there's a few beats of silence as he pulls the phone away from his ear. your phone vibrates with a notification.

e-transfer: AVENTURINE sent you credits!

500,000 credits, to be specific.

"seriously?" you ask, shaking your head.

"don't worry, it's not ipc funds," he assures you. "i won it fair and square. use it buy yourself something to wear on our date. something gold."

"i'll be using it to pay rent for the next few months," you inform him, opening your banking app to deposit the credits. "but maybe i'll blow a little on something fun first."

"oof. speaking of blowing—"

your office door is suddenly thrown open, aventurine strolling inside with his arms wide open.

you stand, rounding your desk. aventurine kicks the door closed, then leans in for a hug, only to be stopped by a printed copy of his expense report pressed into his chest. "we need to talk about this."

"nah."

"nah?"

he takes the report, ignoring your protests as he throws it over his shoulder. "hey—"

he quickly closes the distance between you, cupping the back of your neck to pull you into a kiss.

and you— well, you kissed him back, letting him crowd you up against the wall. annoying as he was, you couldn't help but want him a little too.

when he slides a hand under the hem of your pants, you grab his wrist, pulling back to look at him. bright eyes watch you curiously.

"oh no. you first, hot stuff."

"hot stuff, huh?" he grins, already pulling his shirt over his head. you try not to stare at his spectacularly toned torso for too long and inflate his ego anymore. "i like it."

he moves back in for another kiss but you lean back, gaze flicking to his pants.

he quickly undoes them, pushing them down to his ankles and leaving him in just his boxers.

only then did you let him kiss you. again and again and again.

"okay, that's enough," you tease, leaving him with one last kiss to the corner of his mouth. you're breathless, flustered, face warm in the aftermath of your office makeout.

"hey, hold on—" he's quick to groan, shuffling after you with his pants still around his ankles. "where could you possibly be going right now?!"

you turn to face him once you've pulled the door open, holding up your phone. "i'm going to buy something gold to wear for our date."

[chososcamgirl]

(SHE’S) JUST A PHASE CHAPTER SIX: she’s my collar

masterlist

i made a playlist for this specific chapter! check it out

cw - very suggestive, mentions of alcohol/club scene, mature themes !

“Fuck, it’s cold,” Nobara muttered as she emerged from the sleek black Mercedes, the sharp click of her heels echoing on the pavement. She instinctively wrapped her arms around herself, a futile attempt to fend off the biting chill that cut through the night air.

You pulled your faux cheetah-print coat tightly around herself, desperately seeking any warmth to stave off the biting cold. The regret of wearing a mini skirt settled heavily in your chest as the chill seeped through the fabric.

A biting breeze swept through the group as they piled out of the car, their breath visible in the crisp air. They made their way toward the building illuminated in vibrant LED lights, the name "Aphrodite" glowing in an elegant script above the entrance.

Your gaze fell on the line, a serpentine stretch of eager faces winding around the block and bending around a corner. “The line is so fucking long, bro,” you groaned, frustration lacing your voice.

“Don’t worry,” Panda replied absently, his eyes glued to the screen of his phone, fingers tapping away with a rapid rhythm.

Maki arched an eyebrow, her attention shifting to Panda. “Yuta is here too,” she said, a teasing note in her tone.

You opened your mouth, ready to ask if that meant anything significant, but your question was abruptly cut off by a loud, boisterous shout.

“BRO!” a familiar voice rang out, echoing through the night. A white-haired boy emerged from the shadows, his vibrant presence lighting up the crowd.

He approached Panda, effortlessly slipping into a familiar handshake that you had witnessed countless times before. Next, he turned to Maki and Nobara, greeting them with warm, polite hugs, each one filled with camaraderie.

Then, his gaze settled on you, his eyes assessing you from head to toe. He stepped closer, wrapping you in a longer embrace, leaning in to whisper, “You look good.” The words lingered in the air as he pulled away, a playful smirk dancing on his lips.

Turning back to the bouncer, he declared confidently, “They’re with me.” With a gentle tug, he took your hand, guiding you and the group inside, where the warmth and energy of the club settled, wavered to meet them.

As they stepped inside, a wave of warmth and pulsating music flooded over them, wrapping around you like a comforting embrace. Your gaze was immediately drawn to a figure dressed entirely in black, standing near the entrance, seemingly lost in concentration as he studied something written on a piece of paper.

You noticed two beauty spots nestled just above his eyebrows, creating an intriguing contrast against his sharp features. “Huh,” you thought to yourself, curiosity piqued.

Finally, he looked up, his eyes meeting theirs. A subtle smile curved his lips as he offered them a nod, granting approval for them to venture further into the vibrant atmosphere of the venue.

“Yuji’s been so excited to see you again, Yn,” Toge slurred, his words slightly fuzzy, hinting at the drinks he had already indulged in.

They navigated through the bustling crowd to the VIP booth, where three silhouettes lounged comfortably in deep, luxurious velvet seats, their relaxed postures radiating a carefree vibe.

“Yn!” the pink-haired figure shouted, bounding over with infectious energy. He enveloped you in a warm hug, the scent of his cologne mingling with the rich aroma of the venue. Behind you, the others dispersed, finding their place among the group with casual ease.

“God, it’s been so long! You look incredible!” he exclaimed, stepping back to admire her. You couldn’t help but smile brightly at the compliment. But as you turned to respond, your gaze inadvertently drifted over his shoulder. There, a familiar figure leaned casually against the wall, his eyes fixated on you. He drank you in, the intensity of his stare making her heart race, even as he casually swigged from his beer, a hint of mischief playing on his lips.

“Come on, we need to take our traditional six shots!” Yuji said with infectious enthusiasm, grasping your hand and leading you through the thrumming crowd toward the bar. He slid onto a barstool, gesturing for you to join him with an inviting smile.

As he chatted cheerfully with the bartender, his energy radiated around you. He ordered the customary six shots for both of you, but your thoughts drifted back to Megumi and the way he had been staring earlier. Was it just the atmosphere, or did he really look that good? Hold on—were you actually finding him attractive? The guy who seemed like he spent too much time watching stepcest?

“...up.” You snapped back to reality at Yuji’s voice. Looking up, you were met with his bright, doe-like light brown eyes, sparkling with excitement. In front of you stood an array of colorful shots—twelve, to be exact each one a different hue, glinting invitingly in the bar’s dim light.

“BOTTOMS UP!” he shouted, already downing his first shot. A playful smirk spread across your face; there was no way you were going to let him finish first. You swiftly tossed back the first shot, the bitter liquid searing the back of your throat, but it was a thrill that sent warmth coursing through you. This was light work.

With each shot, the world around you faded into a kaleidoscope of sounds and colors. You quickly moved through the shots, feeling the exhilarating buzz rise within you. Soon, you found yourself on your last one, placing the empty glass down and wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. You glanced at Yuji, who was just finishing his own final shot.

“Still can’t outdo you yet, huh?” he said, his gaze lingering on you with a mix of admiration and playful challenge.

Just as you opened your mouth to respond, a hand pressed firmly against your back, sending a jolt of surprise through you. The warmth of the touch felt intimate, and you turned slightly to find a figure looming behind you. A husky voice cut through the air, rich and smooth, as it said, “Can I borrow her for a second?” The tone was both commanding and playful, drawing your attention away from Yuji and into the mystery of the newcomer.

The air around you was instantly infused with the intoxicating scent of the mystery man’s cologne—a deep, sophisticated aroma that reminded you of Maison Margiela. You turned to get a better look, your heart racing as you were met with his piercing green eyes, which seemed to draw you in.

Meanwhile, Yuji sat there, momentarily confused as he processed the situation, glancing between you and the newcomer. But with a shrug and a grin, he waved goodbye, calling out, “Find me later!” before making his way to the dance floor, his energy lighting up the room.

As Yuji disappeared into the crowd, Megumi smoothly slid into the spot where he had just been sitting. You rested your chin on your hand, your gaze fixed on him with a mixture of curiosity and challenge.

“I hope you’re here to apologise,” you said playfully, flicking away an invisible speck from the counter. He met your gaze with a smirk that seemed to reveal a mix of amusement and confidence. Was that his go-to expression? Because right now, it was definitely starting to look punchable.

“Apologise for what? The truth?” he replied, his voice dripping with confidence as he raised his hand to catch the bartender’s attention, eager for a shot.

“Slut-shaming isn’t a good look for your reputation,” you countered, letting out a frustrated sigh. He was undeniably attractive, but the way he spoke was quickly drying up your pussy and killing your mood.

“Intrigue me, Yn,” he said, his sultry tone wrapping around you like a warm breeze. He leaned in closer, his lips brushing against your ear, sending a shiver down your spine.

“If I fuck you tonight, what number will that make me?”

Your breath catches in your throat, and you silently pray he doesn’t notice. Just then, the bartender sets the shot down between you, and you seize the opportunity to reclaim the upper hand.

You grip his jaw, guiding his face closer until your lips are mere centimeters apart. You glance between his lips and his eyes, feeling the tension crackle in the air.

“Oh, baby, don’t you know? I don’t fuck virgins,” you whisper, releasing your grip on his face as you down his shot and head toward the dance floor.

You weave your way toward the dance floor, each step a little unsteady as the pulsating music and vibrant lights overwhelm your senses. The crowd swells around you, a sea of bodies moving in sync, but the energy feels like too much to handle. Frustration and anger churn inside you. Fuck that was your seventh shot. You were no longer thinking with your head but with your vagina instead.

You weave through the pulsating crowd, your gaze searching for the perfect target. When did you become so needy? Finally, you spot the familiar salmon-haired boy from earlier, and a smile flickers across your lips. “At least it’s not a stranger this time,” you think, navigating through the bodies that sway and jostle around you.

As you approach, an unexpected wave of self-doubt washes over you. Was he always this tall? His shoulders seem broader, more defined, and the tattoos that snake down his arms catch your eye—when did he get those? You dismiss the thoughts, blaming the alcohol for your hazy perception.

Raising yourself onto your toes, you gently tap him on the shoulder, but the moment he turns around, a rush of regret floods in. His imposing figure towers over you, and a sense of horror grips your chest as you realise this is definitely not Yuji.

“Doll?” his deep voice resonates, cutting through the din of the club, leaving you momentarily speechless as you look up, caught off guard by the intensity of his gaze. You freeze. You can’t move. Why can’t you move?

The all-too-familiar pet name washes over you, and a torrent of memories floods your mind, each one more vivid than the last. Tears prick at the corners of your eyes, threatening to spill over. Suddenly, you feel hands grip your shoulders, pulling you away from the man, away from the chaotic atmosphere of the club, and guiding you outside into the cool night air.

As you slip into the car, the reality hits you: Nobara, Maki, and Panda are all there, their concerned faces surrounding you. In an instant, the dam breaks, and you begin to bawl, the emotions you’ve kept buried for so long surging to the surface like a tidal wave. You lean your head into Maki’s lap, feeling the comforting weight of her presence as she gently brushes your hair back from your face.

Nobara’s soothing touch caresses your skin, her fingers rubbing your back in gentle circles. “Shhh, let it out,” she murmurs softly. “You’re safe with us now.” Their unwavering support wrapping around you like a warm blanket, allowing you to release the pent-up feelings that had been longing for freedom. And then, just like that, darkness fills your vision.

extras!

• the aphrodite nightclub was a reeference dedicated to my beloved ree and her hq series ‘poker face’ you should definitely check it out here! @aozui thank u once again <3

• omi sneak in there if you squint

• i imagine aphrodite having the same vibe as the percy jackson casino scene highkey

• hm what does spotify have planned out with tridant i wonder…

• madagascar 3 is my shit guys i would watch it RELIGIOUSLY (maybe i am yn guys idk)

• why does the whole band want us idk we’re just hot like that

• it’s all platonic though guys trust LMFAO

• solstice is a reference to my upcoming spiderman kuroo au btw shhhh #shamlesspromoter

• i threw in the toge and panda texts just for fun LMFAO

• a lot of tridant’s gc texts were actually me and abi’s twitter texts LMFAO (ily abi)

• toge is never crowd surfing again after tonight.

• their set was a total of 1 hour and 49 minutes long (yn secretly enjoyed it and was lowkey fangirling)

• guys i had a field day with the written portion SPECIFICALLY THAT ONE QUOYE

• i hope u all listened to the playlist <3 (pls it’s important)

• yn’s ex is…. SUKUNA?

• to beepboplorpz’s ask that’s still in my inbox currently abt when sukuna would debut HERE HE IS😭

• sukuna’s backstory will be mentioned in the next following chapters..

• panda saw yn going to sukuna and INSTANTLY went to intervene #truefriendeventhohesfat

• yn blacked out in the car if it wasn’t obvious

• megumi was lowkey searching for her on the floor because he thought he was too harsh on her (he cared)

a/n: sorry the chapter is a bit behind schedule but it’s so worth it😭 this was fan service for the thirsty megumi asks so i hope you all eat this up because it took me so long to perfect !! anyways it’s still sunday so it does count… see yall next weekend!! <3 (apologies to my beta readers i was in a rush and wanted this one out but trust im returning back to schedule next week!!)

taglist: @shokosbunny @luvvmae @catobsessedlady @satoryaa @prozacprinc3ss @essjujutsu @therealsatorugojo @yeehawslap @gojodickbig @dawnisatotalqueen @j2upiters @nappingnai @lalalasillybilly3000 @totallytatum @3cst4syy @lysaray @saltypuffin1040 @noodles-icetea @makeshiftproject @kurtcobaingirlie @kokoiinuts @renbittt @dashingaurries @slvttycorpse @cuupidsss @mochroialainn @tenjikusstuff4 @oroborosttheiii @ichcocat @anqelfries @drugzforyou @sugurubabe @allthestarsarecloserrrrrrr @tyigerz @yomamablazeit @yoyo-yui @megoomies @yizmiu @jasminasblog22 @marst4rz @guitarstringed-scars @qtnfer @kalulakunundrum @lovefrominaya @beepbopzlorp @iheartlindz @itsdragonius @meguemii @chilichopsticks @7kn0wn @starantulas @1l-ynn @pastriepuppy @rcveriees @solaqes @starrysho

*if i can't tag you please change your tag settings otherwise i will remove you from the list!

[lostreverb]

copy room firsts

(luke cooper x reader)

content: just fluff, kissing, luke being a cutie

--

your fingers drum playfully on the photocopy machine as you wait for the stack of papers phyllis had asked you to pick up. the old machine chugs along at its usual snail’s pace, the loud hum almost deafening in the cramped room. ever since luke had tried to print the entire script of snatch fifty times, the thing had been slower than ever.

the light beneath the copier slides across the paper—up, then back—its repetitive motion the only visual stimulation available in the otherwise bland room. someone really should put up a bulletin board or something to look at. you try not to think too hard about the monotony of office life, focusing instead on waiting for the machine to finish when suddenly, the fine hairs on the back of your neck stand up. there’s no sound, no creak of the door, but you can feel it—someone’s behind you.

“whatcha doing?” luke breathes in your ear, his voice so close you flinch involuntarily.

you spin around, startled, but luke's already backed away, his trademark grin plastered on his face as if he's enjoying every second of your discomfort. he leans back in, his breath warm against your skin, sending an involuntary chill down your spine.

“i’m making copies for phyllis”

“making copies...” luke echoes, a playful cadence in his voice. he reaches down and grabs a stack of freshly printed papers. “let’s see here…”

“you’re not supposed to be in here" you remind him, although you didn't really care. luke was a bother to most of the office but you actually enjoyed his company.

“it’s fine,” he waves you off, unfazed. “you’re just... teaching me how to properly use this thing.”

“am i now?”

“uh huh. what’s the first button i press?” luke grins, reaching for the copier with that mischievous gleam in his eyes.

“don’t touch it,” you swat his hand away before he can cause more trouble.

“ouch?” he whines, though the smirk on his face suggests he’s far from wounded.

finally, the copier spits out the last of the papers. you turn your back on luke and start organizing them, hoping he’ll go back to his desk if you ignore him long enough. it's only a matter of time before someone realizes he's missing and you don't want to get in trouble. plus luke's already on everyone's nerves, you don't want your only friend to get fired.

“creed follows me on twitter,” luke suddenly announces with that nonchalant attitude of his, now leaning against the wall.

you glance up, eyebrows furrowed in disbelief before letting out a chuckle. “honestly, that makes sense. you two are equally…” your voice trails off as you lose yourself in the task at hand, stacking the papers with precision.

luke, of course, isn’t satisfied with that. “equally what?”

“hm?” you blink, snapping out of your concentration. “oh, it’s nothing. i don’t even remember what i was gonna say.”

“hm.. what are you doing now?” luke presses, stepping off the wall and moving closer, curiosity shining in his dark eyes.

“i’m organizing these papers for phyllis”

luke hovers close behind you, his presence unmistakable. he leans in, his head tilting just enough so that when you glance over your shoulder, you’re met with his gaze, his face only inches from yours.

"phyllis this, phyllis that.. you're like her little servant" he teases, his tone low.

you hold eye contact for a moment, tension hanging in the air between you like an unspoken challenge while you watch his pupils search your face. his eyes seem softer now in the artificial light, and something stirs inside you. before you can second-guess it, you close the space between you, melding your lips to his.

it's a bit of an awkward kiss, your noses bump and luke doesn't seem like he knows what to do with his mouth, but you don't mind. there’s something sweet about the clumsiness, especially considering luke's usual aloofness. you pull away after a few seconds, a satisfied warmth spreading through you

luke looks anywhere but at you, scratching the back of his neck nervously. “uh, cool. uh…” he’s flustered—an unusual sight for him.

"was that your...?"

"first?... yeah"

“sorry,” you say softly, guilt creeping in. you kinda wish you had known before you went in for it, a dingy photocopy room is probably not the place most people want to have their first kiss.

“no, it’s—don’t worry about it,” luke stammers, still looking slightly dazed. “i liked it.”

you both fall into an awkward silence, the only sound the steady hum of the overhead lights.

“i have to take these copies back to... phyllis...” you finally say, breaking the tension as you gather the papers in your arms.

“right, yeah,” luke mumbles, stepping aside as you move toward the door. “go do that.”

just before you leave, you pause and turn to him. “what are you doing after work?”

luke's eyes meet yours again, the hint of a smile on his face. “i don’t know… depends. what are you doing?”

--

tags (ask to be added or removed anytime!): @fear-is-truth @juliamaximoff @jazz-berry @violetsghosts @heartz4peter

[jsprnt]

your vacation with your best friend doesn’t go as expected

jude bellingham x childhood best friend! reader

A/N: tuesday became thursday, but it’s up now!! based on this request!

W/C: 2.534

"wait for me! why are you walking so fast?!"

you shout, hurrying up and fastening your pace to match your best friend's younger brother's, jobe.

the white sandals on your matching white-polished feet, click-clack against the ground in repeated noises.

to some it would sound absolutely horrendous, it attracted attention from your surroundings. the sudden attention would make some squirmy, making them walk slower or even freeze in their spot.

to you, it was the sound of heaven. clicking flip-flops or sandals against the ground meant: warm weather and, of course, being on vacation.

"not my fault you're so much shorter.." the younger boy complains, black sunglasses framing his face- accompanied by his attitude, it made him look even more sassy.

"do jude and you, like- practice the same sentences or retorts?" you question, panting when you’re finally walking side by side.

"mhm, we have a whole book.." he hums sarcastically, and you swear you can see him roll his eyes through the black shades.

"of course, expected from the brothers who brainstorm instagram captions together.." you giggle at the memory, recalling the wrinkles and frowns on their face from overthinking so much. only for the final caption to be a single word or emoji..

"you don't understand.." jobe mumbles, throwing you a glance.

"it has to be absolutely perfect, it gives .."

"aura."

"aura.." you say the same word in unison, giving him a grin.

"yes, that book probably exists.."

"whatever, just come in..."

"I'm right behind you.." you speak, playing with the plastic bag in your hand as you both stand in the elevator. going up to your hotel room floor.

the white, tacky printed plastic bag was evidence of your quick aloe vera run to the local spanish pharmacy.

you knew, no matter the melanin in a persons skin. sun protection and after sun care were essential for everyone's health and wellbeing.

of course, jobe was nice enough to accompany you. in case you'd get scammed into paying twice the normal amount as a foreigner- who definitely didn't speak a lick of spanish.

well, jobe wasn't a pro either. though, his google translate expertise is always very welcome.

"okay, be ready in 45.."

"only? who said that?" you question, mentally calculating how you'll shower, do your makeup, and fix your hair in that time frame.

"jude just texted me.."

"isn't he the one who takes like an hour to do anything?" you scoff, pulling your room key out of your handbag.

"I don't know, y/n. would you be so kind to hurry up.." jobe gives you a fake smile, pushing you into your room.

"I'm gonna kill him if he's any later than me!" you exclaim, shutting your door.

you take a quick breath, quickly moving around your hotel room. you had your outfit and shoes picked out already, so you could speed through your routine without worrying about that.

you use every single minute properly, swinging your door open right at the 45-minute mark.

you adjust your dress, looking out your door to see both jude and jobe, leaning against the wall. jobe face deep into his phone.

"so.." you say, eyeing them carefully. though, your eyes stay glued on your best friend, jude.

the beige, linen shirt, complementing his, vacation bronzed skin tone perfectly. with his sleeves rolled up, you can feel your face heat up more than the current marbella weather.

just like, when you'd received a fat kiss on the cheek from a nine-year-old jude, back in year four, when you'd finally passed your time tables after trying so hard.

"you guys look nice, stylist?" you inquire, looking them up and down.

"all us.." jude chimes, proud smile on his face. eyes crinkling as the corners of his mouth curl up.

"mhm, improved.." you mumble, stepping out of your room and shutting your door. quickly tucking your room card in your clutch.

"okay, but you've improved so much. remember you almost died for those led, light-up sneakers? and now you're wearing high heels to go out.."

jobe pretends to shed a few fake tears, making you roll your eyes.

"come on, if we start talking about a fashion terrorist. you're number one on the list, before you even had a stylist or all this.."

"can't lie about that, man.." jobe laughs, already following you to the elevator. you don't notice the lingering eyes on you, jude's eyes stuck on your back.

eventually, after quite a cute taxi ride, with the driver coincidentally being a madridista, you arrive at the beach club. sun beaming down on your moisturized skin.

you quickly become busy with everyone around you, tipping back drink after drink.

you'd never been much of a social person, at least not before jude started dragging you to different parties or vacations.

I mean, it was difficult for you two to be apart from each other for so long. despite the fact that you lived so far from each other lately.

when you'd met back in primary school, at age six. your parents knew you would be joined by the hip for the rest of your lives.

playing in the sandbox, and building sand castles went to taking up football together. only for you to fall out after picking up a different hobby. while jude grew a sudden affection for the sport, making it his life goal to succeed in the football industry, just like his idols.

his focus and passion for the sport definitely stretched you both apart for a while. only for you guys to grow a stronger bond when he told you about his move to germany, to sign with bvb.

you became a busy university student, trying for the life of you to understand the effects of a torn acl for your next anatomy exam.

an aspiring orthopedic surgeon and a successful football player, made an interesting duo of friends.

you swirl the cosmopolitan in your hand, watching the pink liquid move in the clear glass with sudden interest.

you slowly pull yourself from your half-drunk trance, looking to your left, when you hear your best friend's name being shouted by an unfamiliar, shrill voice.

you watch as a blonde, fully made up lady touches jude on his shoulder. the light, but intimate touch makes you squint. a sudden ache starting to settle in your chest when you watch her perfectly manicured nails scratch against the fabric of his shirt, sleeves tight around his veiny biceps.

you clench your eyes closed, a sigh leaving your mouth before you move your head away from the sudden, torturous sight.

when you look down, you immediately notice your plain, stress-bitten nails. the sight is unsettling, though familiar- with all your exams, and your parttime job, piling stress on your body.

you run your fingers down your thumb nail, wishing you could fully enjoy your early twenties like the girl who just jumped into the pool, wearing the prettiest mini dress, without a care in the world. Or, like the other girl, who's mingling around, sniffling out a potential kiss or cuddle for the night.

you flicker your gaze back to jude, his hand going over to stabilize the blonde bombshell in front of him. keeping her up with a hand on his back, and a handsome smile on his face.

you bite your lip unconsciously, drawing blood when the girl smiles back. the blood mixes with your glittery gloss, making you swipe your tongue down your bottom lip.

jealousy, or whatever this was- it made you sick, nauseous. you tip your drink, the rest of the liquid entering your veins with fire.

love wasn't a first come, first serve..

you get up from your little seat, being back at the bar in no time to get yourself another one to soothe the burn and ache in your chest.

"y/n?" you look to your left, making eye contact with a relaxed-looking jobe. a can nursed in his right hand.

"you shouldn't drink, you're a baby.." you mutter, drunkenly ordering yourself a water.

alcohol cleaned up wounds right?

yes.

but, not emotional ones..

seeing jobe, so calm and collected, brings you back from your mental breakdown.

you knew, even with your common sense hanging by a single thread. your current predicament would never, ever switch up suddenly- just because you're actively damaging your liver.

"I'm above eighteen, 'member?" jobe speaks, eyes on the way you're sipping on your room temperature water.

"still a baby.." you mutter, giving him a look from above the rim of your glass.

he shivers, even with the weather reaching record temperatures, your scolding look scares him a little.

"mood swings? you were so jumpy and happy in the car.."

you groan, discreetly moving your head so jobe can see the sight you are being tortured with.

"he's literally just talking.."

"he's touching her everywhere.." you groan, looking up at jobe.

the younger boy knew about the way you secretly admired his older brother. it was difficult to hide after he'd stumbled upon a random note in your notebook when you were seventeen, containing pros and cons about dating jude, written by you.

you were so gone, the cons list was emptier than a pigeon's nest.

"he's not touching anyone, like at all. actually he's walking towards us.."

you gasp, eyes going wide as ever as you raise your head. afraid to look behind you in case he's right there.

"if you're lying, I-"

"what's all this? talking shit without me?"

you do a silent prayer, closing your eyes for a second before twisting your bar stool around.

you gasp when your chair wobbles, sudden, muscular arms wrapping themselves around your waist to keep you sitting down.

"you okay? drunk already, darlin'?"

you almost whimper at the nickname, clearing your throat when you jump out of your initial shock.

"mhm, had some water just now.."

torture, torture, and torture..

you clench your teeth uncontrollably, resting face looking something like you're about to explode..

"you don't look okay.." he mutters, bringing his hand up to cup your face, checking your temperature with his palm. 

"I'm fine.."

You shove his hands off, looking away. you try to keep your emotions at bay, the strings of your patience on the verge of snapping violently.

"I need- to go to the restroom.." you finally squeak, getting up and brushing shoulders with an incredibly confused jude.

the interaction garners a couple looks, and jobe immediately nudges jude. realizing he could become the match maker of the century..

"follow her, come on.." he urges, pushing his older brother away.

"I mean, did I say something wrong? Or did I do something bad?"

"go.."

the single worded response by jobe, has him following you. hot on your heels.

you gasp when you feel a sharp tug on your arm, getting pulled into a small room, right next to the staff room.

you blink, opening your mouth to scream bloody murder, but stop when you hear jude's voice.

"it's me, you're okay.."

he mutters quietly, and you can hear him rummaging around. finally, his hand makes contact with the light switch. the very dim light, making it possible to see him.

"what was that back there?" he questions, and just like the other occasions you've witnessed him being confused or angry, his accent thickens.

brown eyes stare into yours, and you shiver before looking away.

"said I'm fine, jude.."

"you cannot fool me, y/n. we've shared too many years together for me to not notice when you're not acting right." his hand reaches for yours, and you let him. like a love sick fool, you allow him to cross boundaries and enter your portal of comfort.

"you must like her, go ahead and date her.." you finally speak after a long silence, making jude's hold on your hand tighten.

"who?" he breathes, knotting his brows together with a frown. his heart begins thumping harder in his chest.

"the woman you were talking with..

you can feel immense embarrassment brewing in your chest. your breath shaky as you look back into his beautiful brown eyes.

"the woman I was - how does that indicate I like her? I can't talk with a woman, just because?"

you close your eyes in humiliation, biting your lip.

"is that not what it was?"

"chatting with a random person does not mean I fancy them.."

you clear your throat, no turning back now.

"oh, how else do you start showing you fancy someone? standing there like a robot?"

"you're unbelievably stupid.."

"I'm stupid?!" you question, voice high as your eyes widen in surprise.

your breath hitches when you feel a hand on your cheek, again jude's hand is warm. soft but his hold is rough around the edges. making sure you're looking directly into his eyes.

"you're so stupid, in the fifteen years of us knowing each other. have you, ever thought of why I've never brought a single girl home? introduced a girl as my girlfriend to you? to my parents even?"

your jaw closes, not a single peep leaving your lips.

you can feel his thumb rubbing soothing circles on your cheek, it gives you goosebumps instantly. your eyes not leaving his for a millisecond.

"now you won't even speak.."

he sighs, moistening his plump lips with the tip of his tongue.

the sight lures you in fully, the look of longing in your eyes, mixed with an unknown feeling of euphoria.

jude notices the eyes, those eyes made him melt every time he saw you. since the age of fourteen, you'd been the sole person who'd occupy the romantic emotions in his very heart and soul..

it's his cue, he thinks. this is it.

you're incredibly jealous, or sad he thinks. the way you're looking at him, all allured and eager.

without even realizing it, your lips inch closer. soft, warm breaths hitting each other's, makes you almost whimper. his hold on your jaw tightens, and he presses his plump lips against yours in a fervent kiss.

your hand reaches up to his bicep, the muscles on display the entire evening- tensing up under your needy touch.

he groans into the kiss, both eyes fluttering shut in relief.

a hand travels down to your waist, pads of his fingers making contact with the exposed skin on your midriff. softly running his hands down your burning skin.

he pulls back for air, your foreheads touching intimately as you both pant. lingering smile on your face when you look up at him.

"I love you and your pretty mouth, but next time don't jump to conclusions with this smart brain of yours.."

you chuckle. initial shock gone, earlier anger and frustration washed away by the single touch of his lips onto yours.

"I know, I'm sorry. I- I love you too.."

the words feel foreign falling from your lips, especially with knowing who's on the receiving end of your receptieve answer.

"why don't you just help me get used to your taste?”

he tilts your head, pressing a soft kiss against your temple.

after years of crushing, right now, within a heartbeat, he's yours.

[msriri030]

Saving by a Hare:

Mobster! König x Doctor! Reader

tag: Stranger to lover, afab! female but trying most to gn idk

You walked back to your small clinic after making a house call to an elderly couple. The streets were serene, wrapped in a pristine blanket of fresh winter snow. A soft breeze carried the faint scent of pine and cinnamon from a nearby café, blending with the crisp chill of the air. Yet, your mind was miles away.

The couple’s gratitude lingered in your thoughts, their warm smiles and kind words a gentle reminder of why you had chosen this path. In a world where you often faced indifference—or worse, outright hostility—moments like those made it all feel worth it. Despite the challenges, there was purpose in what you did, and that was enough to keep you going.

As you walked, Your thoughts were interrupted by the sudden appearance of a small cat, sleek and gray, slipping out from the shadows of an alleyway. It meows softly before weaving between your legs, its tail flicking playfully. You crouched, extending a hand with a soft smile, but the cat darted away, disappearing into the dark alley.

“Hey, wait!” you called instinctively, curiosity tugging at you.

The alley was silent, the air colder here in the absence of light. Your breath puffed visibly in front of you as you trailed the cat’s paw prints in the snow. But something unusual caught your eye—a patch of crimson staining the pristine white.

You froze, your heart skipping a beat. Red snow. The metallic tang of iron wafted faintly in the air. Blood.

The doctor in you overrode every other instinct. You bolted toward the source, boots crunching against the snow as your mind raced. Someone was hurt. Someone needed help.

As you turned the corner, you saw it—a large male figure slumped against the wall, motionless. Blood pooled beneath them, painting the snow in a macabre contrast of red and white.

Your heart pounded, but your hands steadied as you dropped to your knees beside them. "Hey! Can you hear me?" you called, already reaching for their pulse.

As a doctor, you were bound by one unshakable rule: to save a life, no matter the circumstances. And right now, you were prepared to do just that.

The pulse was slow but steady—a small relief that eased the tight knot of anxiety in your chest. You let out a soft sigh, your breath visible in the icy air. Your hands moved with practiced precision as you assessed the situation.

The man’s face was partially obscured by a makeshift balaclava, one crudely fashioned from a torn shirt. It clung to his skin, damp with sweat and streaked with traces of blood. You instinctively reached to remove it, thinking it might help him breathe more easily.

But as your fingers brushed the fabric, a sudden movement stopped you in your tracks.

His hand, rough and trembling, shot up and grabbed your wrist with surprising strength for someone in his condition. His grip wasn’t crushing, but it was firm enough to communicate a clear message: don’t.

His head tilted slightly, icy blue eyes locking onto yours with a piercing intensity that sent a shiver racing down your spine. Despite his battered state, his voice emerged steady, edged with a cold sharpness that only deepened his aura of danger.  

“What do you think you’re doing, kleiner weißer Hase?” he asked, the German words slipping out in a tone as cutting as the accent behind them.  

You straightened under his scrutiny, meeting his gaze despite the unease clawing at your chest. “I–I mean no harm,” you replied calmly, refusing to waver. “I’m a doctor. I was trying to remove this to help you breathe. Do you know where you’re bleeding from?”  

For a moment, his eyes narrowed, and you thought he might ignore you altogether. His grip on your wrist tightened briefly, but then, slowly, it loosened. His gaze shifted, the icy edge softening, though his expression remained distant—haunted, almost lifeless.  

“Doctor…” he muttered, his voice low and strained, as if the word carried more weight than it should. “A little Hase like you should leave. You don’t want to get tangled up with someone like me. Men like me only have one ending. The kind reserved for mobsters. So go. Pretend you never saw me.”  

His words hung in the frosty air, heavy with bitterness and self-loathing. Your jaw tightened, the weight of his resignation settling over you, but you weren’t one to back down.  

“I will not,” you said firmly, your tone unwavering as you met his distant stare. “I am a doctor, and you are not a dead man yet. So I’ll ask you again—do you know where you’re bleeding from?”  

Something shifted in his expression. His eyes widened just slightly, caught off guard by your defiance. A bitter smirk tugged at the corner of his lips, fleeting but noticeable a glam of life in his eyes.  

“Stubborn little Hase, aren’t you?” he murmured, the faintest trace of amusement cutting through his somber tone before his features darkened again. “Fine. Lower left side. But don’t say I didn’t warn you.”  

You nodded briskly, already moving to assess the wound. His words lingered, though, like a shadow curling in the corners of your mind. Whatever weight he carried, it was more than just physical—burdens you couldn’t begin to imagine.  

Carefully, you lifted his shirt, exposing the bullet wound oozing dark, viscous blood. Without hesitation, you reached for the tools you’d gathered: a pair of tweezers, a needle, thread, and a bottle of alcohol. The chaos surrounding you melted into insignificance as you focused, your hands steady despite the urgency clawing at your nerves.  

“Okay, hold still—”  

“König,” he interrupted, his voice low and gravelly as he offered his name. His icy blue eyes never left yours, watching you intently, as if assessing whether you were friend or foe.  

“Okay, Hold still, König” you instructed, reaching into your bag for your tools.

He grunted, his lips quivering faintly. “I’ve been still this entire time.”

Suppressing a smile, you worked quickly, sterilizing your tweezers and cleaning the area around the wound. “This might sting,” you warned.

He didn’t flinch, his jaw tight as you began extracting the bullet. His muscles tensed under your touch, and a low groan escaped his throat, but he didn’t move an inch. His control was unnervingly precise, a testament to the kind of man he was.

You gripped the tweezers and leaned in, the edges of your vision narrowing as your focus honed in on the task. With painstaking care, you maneuvered the tweezers to locate the bullet. König’s muscles tensed under your touch, his jaw clenching, but he stayed perfectly still, his control unnervingly precise.  

As the metal object came into view, lodged deep within the torn flesh, you adjusted your grip and pulled. Blood welled around the wound, and König let out a low, guttural groan, though his body didn’t move an inch.  

“It’s almost out,” you murmured, more for your own reassurance than his. With one final tug, the bullet slipped free, clinking faintly as you dropped it onto the snowy ground beside you.  

You exhaled a breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding. Glancing up, you saw König watching you, his expression unreadable, though there was a flicker of something in his eyes—perhaps relief, perhaps trust.  

“Now the hard part’s done,” you said softly, your voice steadier than you felt. You grabbed the needle and thread, preparing to stitch the wound. “Just a little more, and you’ll be good as new. Well, almost.”  

König let out a dry chuckle, though it sounded more like a sigh. “Good as new, Hase? I think that ship sailed long ago.”

“I don’t,” you replied, a gentle but firm conviction in your tone. “I believe you’d be lovely company to have around.”

Your words caught him off guard, and his lips quirked into a faint, almost disbelieving smile. He let out a low chuckle, this one lighter, more genuine than before. You couldn’t help but smile back, though your focus quickly returned to the task at hand.

With careful precision, you finished stitching the wound, your hands steady as you tied off the last thread. Grabbing a clean cloth, you cleaned the area around the stitches and reached for the bandages.

As you wrapped them around his waist, your fingers brushed against his skin, warm and solid beneath your touch. Despite the lack of defined abs, his build was undeniably strong, and you couldn’t help the slight blush that crept up your cheeks.

König noticed immediately. His icy blue eyes studied you with quiet curiosity before he asked, his tone calm but with a hint of amusement, “Are you okay, Hase? Your face is red.”

Your head shot up, and you stammered, “I’m okay! I’m fine!” You quickly glanced away, fumbling for an excuse. “It’s just… the cold, that’s all.”

His gaze lingered on you for a moment longer, as if he didn’t entirely believe you, but he didn’t press the matter.

“We should call an ambulance,” you said, reaching for your phone. “You need proper medical care—”

Before you could dial, König’s hand shot out, gently but firmly grabbing your wrist. His grip was steady, his calloused palm warm against your skin.

“No, Hase,” he said softly, his voice carrying an edge of urgency. His icy blue eyes bore into yours, more serious than before. “But… Can I call someone? Just for a moment. With your phone.”

You hesitated for a moment, but the intensity in his gaze left no room for argument. Slowly, you nodded, handing him your phone.

As he dialed, you shifted awkwardly, your fingers fidgeting with the hem of your shirt. You tried not to listen, but his deep voice made it impossible to tune out. After a few rings, a man’s voice answered, sharp and suspicious.

“Hello? Who is this?”

König exhaled through his nose, the faintest edge of irritation in his voice as he responded, “ Horangi. It’s König.”

A brief pause followed, the silence thick with tension. Then Horangi’s voice returned, his tone a mix of disbelief and reprimand. “König, what the hell happened?”

“I got shot,” König admitted, his voice lower now, almost begrudging.

“You what? Damn it, König. Where are you?”

“I’ll send my location,” König muttered, groaning lightly as if he were already bracing for the lecture he knew was coming. He glanced at you briefly, his expression unreadable, before returning his attention to the call.

“Can you pick me up?”

Horangi sighed audibly on the other end, muttering something under his breath in Korean before replying, “Fine. But you owe me for this. Stay where you are. I will be there in a few minutes.”

König ended the call and handed your phone back to you. “Thank you, Hase,” he said quietly, his tone softer now.

You studied him for a moment, unsure what to say. He seemed more tired than before, the weight of whatever world he lived in pressing heavily on his broad shoulders.

“You have a friend coming?” you asked gently, trying to gauge his condition.

He gave a small nod. “Yes. He’ll be here soon.”

Silence stretched between you, broken only by the faint hum of distant traffic and the occasional gust of wind that rustled through the alley. Your eyes lingered on König, studying his face—the sharp edges softened by exhaustion, the weight of something unspoken behind his icy blue gaze. You couldn’t help but wonder what kind of life he led, what kind of dangers waited for him beyond the walls of this quiet alley.

When he finally spoke, his voice was low and gravelly, pulling your attention back to him. “It’s cold. You should go home, Hase.”

You straightened slightly, meeting his tired gaze with quiet determination. “No. I need to make sure you get picked up safely.”

A deep, amused chuckle rumbled in his chest, surprising you. It wasn’t bitter like before, but rich, almost warm. “You’re protecting me. That’s ironic,” he said, the faintest hint of a smirk tugging at his lips.

Heat rose to your cheeks, and you puffed them in mock frustration, gently swatting his uninjured arm. “It’s my job,” you retorted, voice firm despite the blush creeping up your neck. “Would you do the same if you were in my shoes?”

König’s smirk lingered, but his expression softened as his gaze rested on you. For a moment, he didn’t reply, his icy blue eyes searching yours, as though your question had struck deeper than you’d meant it to. Slowly, his hand lifted, calloused fingers brushing a stray strand of hair behind your ear with surprising gentleness.

The gesture left you momentarily breathless, and silence stretched between you once more, heavy but not uncomfortable. You both sat there, the world around you fading into the background, neither of you daring to break the quiet.

Then, suddenly, the sharp screech of car tires shattered the stillness, yanking you back to reality.

Before you could react, König’s instincts took over. His arms shot out, pulling you close against his chest in a swift, protective motion. His body tensed, shielding you from whatever unknown danger might be approaching.

“Stay down,” he murmured, his voice low and commanding.

The tension broke only when a familiar figure emerged from the shadows. Horangi appeared, sprinting toward you both with a practiced urgency, his sharp eyes narrowing as they darted between you and König.

Without missing a beat, Horangi waved over two more figures trailing close behind him. They moved with the same calculated precision, their presence commanding despite the chaos lingering in the air. One was a tall, broad-shouldered man with a sharp jawline and dark eyes—Oni, you guessed from the way he carried himself with silent authority. The other, slightly shorter but no less imposing, had a cocky smirk that seemed permanently etched on his face—Hutch.

“You’re reckless, König,” Horangi muttered, crouching beside him while sparing you a brief glance. “Is this what you call lying low, boss?” His voice carried an edge of exasperation, though there was an unmistakable undercurrent of concern.

König didn’t answer immediately. He shifted slightly, loosening his protective hold on you but not letting you go entirely, as though reluctant to leave you vulnerable. “I didn’t plan for this,” König grumbled, his voice gruff but steady.

Oni stepped forward, his piercing gaze briefly flicking over König’s wound before settling on you. His brow furrowed slightly, but he didn’t speak, his silence unnerving yet oddly respectful. Hutch, on the other hand, let out a low whistle, his eyes darting between you and König with an amused grin.

“Well, well,” Hutch drawled, his tone teasing. “Didn’t know you had a personal medic, König. Gotta say, she’s a bit of an upgrade from the usual lot we deal with.”

Your cheeks flushed at the comment, but König shot him a warning look that shut him up immediately.

“Enough,” Horangi snapped, his tone sharp as he straightened. “Let’s get him out of here before we draw more attention.”

After Hutch and Oni helped König into the car, he leaned back against the seat, exhaustion pulling at his features. You stood by the door, briefing Horangi on König’s condition—quickly summarizing the severity of the wound, the care you’d provided, and his current state. Your voice was steady, your professionalism cutting through the tension like a beacon of calm.

What you didn’t notice, however, was König watching you intently through the tinted window. His icy blue eyes had softened, their usual sharpness dulled by something almost foreign: quiet admiration. He listened to the cadence of your voice, his gaze lingering on your focused expression. For the first time in what felt like an eternity, he allowed himself a moment of calm. There was something about the way you carried yourself—gentle but unwavering—that disarmed him more thoroughly than any weapon ever had.

As you finished and dismissed yourself, König’s eyes followed you. The faint breeze caught your white lab coat as you walked briskly toward your clinic, the fabric fluttering like wings in the wind. The image was seared into his mind, reforging the thought he’d had before—kleiner weißer Hase.

When you disappeared into the crowd, König’s lips twitched into a rare, almost wistful smile. For a moment, his icy exterior melted, replaced by something warmer, something yearning. A quiet vow slipped past his lips, too low for anyone to catch but himself.

“The hunt is on, Hase.”

Oni and Hutch exchanged a glance from the front seat, their expressions a mixture of curiosity and silent amusement. Horangi, leaning against the car, raised an eyebrow at König but said nothing. The three of them, seasoned in the ways of König’s unpredictability, decided it was best to leave him to his thoughts—for now.

------------------

part 2

kleiner weißer Hase: litte white bunny

Hase: bunny

[chilling-seavey]

I thought of this and had to share it for TWIG. George is away at a race and you are home with the kids. The night before the race, George calls you for phone sex but you know you have to be quiet otherwise the kids will wake up

↳ A/N Thank you for this, anon! You only sent this last night but it really inspired me and I was feeling kind of down and really needed a simple, easy, lighthearted thing to write to get my mind off the craziness of life. This was perfect <3

↳ Pairings: George Russell x Fem!Reader (NO use of y/n)

↳ Word Count: 2.1k

↳ Warnings: 18+, smut, phone sex, male masturbation, dirty talk, unedited

“This triple header is brutal.”

George’s voice was tired through the phone. You could tell he was trying to hide it but you knew him well enough by then; the languidness of his syllables, drawing them out just a little more, the sparkle dulled in his tone. 

Sitting on your side of your shared bed with an ocean between you, you held your phone to your ear with a melancholy smile. Your husband’s voice always warmed your heart but when he was more downtrodden, it was hard to fully feel it. 

“I know.” you replied gently, your book laying open and forgotten on your lap, “They really work you and the team to the bone with those.”

“Not just that,” George sighed, “I miss you…the kids. I hate not being able to fly home between races.”

You rested your head back against the headboard with a fond smile at his sweet confession, “Aw, my love. We miss you too.”

“I really miss you.” he pressed. 

Your fingers absentmindedly traced the edge of your open novel spread across your thighs as his familiar voice caused your heart to flutter. Your gaze was focused on the wall across from your bed where the dresser sat, a few of his things dotted along the surface, some spaces empty with things he had brought with him for three weeks away. With a softly playful tone, you asked, “How much?”

There was a pause through the line and then George chuckled warmly, replying with a cheeky, “What are you wearing?”

“Oh—” you scrunched your eyes closed with a gentle laugh, “You’re terrible.”

“What?” George laughed in return through the phone, “I’m serious.”

You looked down at yourself in your t-shirt and faded pyjama shorts, “Nothing sexy, I’ll tell you that.”

“You’re always sexy.” George countered with ease like he had been telling you that all his life. He pressed a little harder, “Come on. Fess up.”

“I’m wearing one of your old Mercedes team shirts from 2024.” you told him, picking at the logo of one of the now-bankrupt sponsors that had started to flake off after years and years of wash. A piece of the print fluttered down onto your open book on your lap. You added, “And some ancient pyjama shorts.”

“Ooh, the blue and grey striped shorts?”

“Yeah, how’d you know?”

George hummed in approval, “Those are nice. Make your bum look extra good.”

“What is with you?” you laughed breathily, shaking your head a little at the obvious intention behind his responses.

“What?” he protested, his voice raising a half-octave in defence, “I miss my wife and I want to flirt with her.”

You closed your book with your free hand and set it aside on your nightstand to give him your full attention. Your knees pulled up a little, tenting the duvet you were sitting under, and you teased him knowingly, “Your hand isn’t doing it for you anymore?”

George inhaled sharply, “Now who’s being forward?”

“Am I wrong?”

There was a pause and then a defeated sigh, followed by a one-word answer in which you could hear his playful smirk, “No.”

“Besides, tomorrow’s Sunday and you always liked to have a pre-race orgasm.” you stated knowingly, “Knocks you out like a light. Guaranteed good night’s sleep.”

“Yeah, yeah, you know me better than anyone.” George retorted in a feigned mocking tone.

There was a pause again. You could faintly hear the sound of his breathing. You nibbled at your bottom lip as if to physically try and switch your mindset from your calm relaxing night-in to having phone sex with your husband. Through the phone, you could hear the rustling of sheets as he shifted. 

“I can’t go crazy with it,” you warned softly, “the kids are asleep and you know how thin these walls are.”

“That’s okay.” George’s voice was just as quiet, as if he had any reason to whisper on his side of the world, “I’ll take anything. Even just hearing your voice.”

“Okay then…want me to read you the grocery list?”

He let out a strained sigh, “Sweetheart.”

“Okay, okay.” you chuckled. 

You could picture his pleading pout in your mind, the scrunch of his eyes, the tilt of his head. Deep inside you, your stomach stirred. You wondered if he was naked in the hotel room bed at that moment. 

The pause wasn’t doing any favours for your poor husband who was impatiently waiting through the line. George pleaded with you in that sweet voice that somehow always wore you down, “Please, my love, I’m already so hard.”

Your eyebrows raised, “Already?” 

George’s shy chuckle melted into a soft groan of a confession, “I’ve been trying to have a bit of a wank for almost an hour now but my brain keeps thinking of strategies and tyre management and I keep going soft.”

You swallowed back a joke about soft versus hard tyre compounds for the sake of not making him suffer any longer. Instead, you got yourself comfortable in your strikingly empty shared bed and adjusted your grip on your phone against your ear. You comforted him lovingly, “My poor love. Where are you? In bed?”

“Yeah,” George’s breath was shallow. Through the phone you could faintly hear the pop of the lid of a plastic bottle opening. It didn’t take much sleuthing to figure it was lube. 

“And you’re hard…again.” you continued, “And missing me.”

“Yeah,” his voice was a little softer, the word drawn out a little longer than previous. 

“Missing what part of me?” you asked. 

George hummed lowly, “All of you, love, you know that.”

“My mouth?” you taunted, letting a moment for your two words to settle before adding, “My pussy?”

The tight inhale of breath through the line was answer enough. 

“Yeah? That’s what you want, don’t you?” you whispered to him, “Want to be buried nice and deep inside me…right where you belong. Isn’t that right?”

“Yeah…” George nearly purred. 

The sound of his voice alone was enough to make your insides burn and your thighs clenched together a little tighter. You could faintly hear the slick sound of his hand stroking his lubed up cock through the phone, keeping to a slow languid pace as you eased him into the wonderful pictures your words could paint. His every soft breath had you shivering, feeling his need through the phone and, almost, the heat of his familiar breath against your skin.

“Just want me squeezing around you so tight?” you continued. 

“Yeah…so warm.” George slurred out.

“So tight and warm and all yours. All yours to stretch out and fill up.”

“Baby.” George moaned, elongating the vowels. 

You knew not to stop, you knew just how much he loved your endless stream of consciousness, how your words didn’t hold back when you got in that right mindset. He loved your voice and every thought that spilled from it. 

“What I wouldn’t give to be in that hotel room with you right now…in that bed with you…just bouncing on your gorgeous dick.”

George’s breath caught a little. You could hear his hand speed up.

He let out a shaky, “Mm, please keep going.”

“And you can hold my hips and move me how you want…”

“Mhm…”

“And you could just feel how wet I am for you…leaking all over you…”

“Fuck—” George choked out, almost a sob, as if he were vividly picturing everything you were saying. In a barely there breath, he added, “Please—”

You shifted in bed a little as the sounds of him getting himself off through the phone went right between your legs. With your children sleeping just down the hall, you couldn’t stomach the idea of sharing in his pleasure just in case they heard you; it was always easier to be convinced when George was there in person. When it was just you, all alone in your bedroom, your nervousness out-powered your desire. That was okay; you were perfectly content just helping him out anyway. 

“You sound so good, baby.” you breathed, your ears perked to his every small moan or groan or gasp. “Keep moaning for me…you know I like it when you’re vocal.”

George swallowed thickly, his words strained and drunken, “Yeah…feels so good…”

“Would feel better with my hands all over you, wouldn’t it? Kissing your neck…pulling your hair…”

The shaky moan he replied with was erotic, sending your heart racing and your thighs clenching. 

“Yeah, I know, you love that.” your voice was low and languid, dragging on your words in a way that had him soaking in everything you were saying, “Letting me pull on the ends of your hair while I fuck myself on your lap…on your perfect fucking dick.”

George’s breathing was getting heavier through the phone, almost as if he was so in his head that he forgot you weren’t even there with him. The steady slick rhythm of his hand on himself was hypnotizing to you, drawing your bottom lip between your teeth, knowing exactly what he must have looked like alone in that empty hotel room half-way across the world. It was a sight you had seen more times than you could count but one that always had that unmistakable warmth pooling in the depths of your belly. 

George writhed, his voice strained and urgent, “Don’t stop. Please, keep talking. Please.”

“I can tell you're close…listen to those pretty sounds you’re making.” you purred, rambling anything that came to mind, “I’d be all over you if I was there…I’m sure you’d have already made me come twice over by now…making me come all over your cock just squeezing around it and soaking it.”

George’s breath caught. You heard his hand speed up a little more. 

“Yeah? That’s what you want?” you pressed on, “Wanna feel how hard you can make me come? Knowing you’re the only one who can do that to me? That I’m all yours? Absolutely wrecking me and still making me want more and more and more of you?”

“Yeah.” George moaned, “Fuck, I’m so close, baby, please—”

You always knew exactly what he wanted to hear, speaking to him with ease of your trust and familiarity, “You wanna come inside me? Wanna put a baby in me?”

George choked out your name in the handsomest groan. 

“Yeah? I know you’re so close; bet you’re just throbbing. You gonna give me what I want? Gonna give me all your cum as deep as you can?”

“Uh huh—”

“Uh huh? Yeah, you are. That’s it.” you encouraged, your free hand dropping beneath the bedsheets around your middle to rub over your clothed pussy. You could feel your wetness already seeping through your panties and your shorts, your cunt only throbbing more beneath your fingers at the sounds of his strained breaths and soft moans as he drew closer and closer. “Come on, gorgeous. Gimme it. Come for me.”

After years together, you didn’t have to be in the room with him to know exactly when he came. Your ears easily picked up on the hitch of his breath that was laced in with the prettiest whimper (something that he was always a little self-conscious about, but something you loved most) before letting it out a second later with a wavering moan and another and another, falling into those long-awaited waves of pleasure. 

“There you go,” you cooed softly, “That’s so good. Give me every last drop.”

“Yeah…” George panted, “Yeah, fuck, that’s…it.”

“Good?” you chuckled through the phone as his build up eased into silence of nothing but his breaths.

“Yeah. Perfect. You’re perfect.” he whispered dreamily, “Thank you.”

“Anything for you,” you reminded him sweetly, before following it up with a casual, “But you owe me when you get home.”

“You don’t have to ask me twice.” George chuckled, his tone clearly worn out, “I would have done so anyway, even without you asking.”

There was a peaceful pause between you, both of you lost in your thoughts. 

“It’s late here.” you finally stated, pulling your phone away to glance at the time before resting it back against your ear, “I should sleep. You know the little guy is going to have me up at the crack of dawn.”

George’s voice was soft and laced with a knowing smile, “Of course. I’ll let you sleep. I have to…clean up anyway.”

You laughed breathily and lolled your head back against the headboard with a dreamy smile at how flushed and gorgeous and messy he must look after all that. But, you knew the conversation needed to be wrapped up so you kept your thoughts to yourself and, instead, reminded him, “We’ll definitely be watching the race tomorrow…even if it means a bit late to bed for the tot. Give us a call after, okay?” 

“Always do.” George replied simply, “I love you.”

“I love you.” you echoed with ease.

Another pause as if you both just wanted to hear the sounds of the other breathing for a moment longer. 

Finally, George whispered a tender, “Good night, darling.”

“Night, my love.”

And the call disconnected.

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[4homestylist]

Golden Path Wall Art

"Step into the beauty of nature with this breathtaking wall art featuring a majestic tree standing tall in a lush field at sunset. A dirt path leads toward the silhouette, drawing the viewer into the scene. The warm glow of the golden hour radiates through the branches, creating a serene and timeless atmosphere. Perfect for those who appreciate the harmony of nature and the tranquil moments of the day."

GIT IT BUY HERE

[princessbrunette]

thinking about showers w s3 rafe 😵‍💫😵‍💫

-🐣

no because we all know the gif.

୨୧ . ﾟ ㅤ૮꒰ ⸝⸝ ◞ ˬ ◟ ꒱ა

thinking specifically about seeing his big strong figure under the stream of water after he’d had a particularly rough day— struggling to make sales, fighting with his dad, barry acting up. you were the only person in his life currently behaving, and you just wanted to prove your loyalty and make him feel better.

his head turns when he hears the bathroom door open because it snaps him out of his deep thoughts, and when you slide the shower door open — blinking up at him with the sweetest doe eyes completely naked — he has no choice but to silently make space for you.

it’s almost awkward how fast his cock naturally hardens when you appear beneath the shower stream, promptly standing on your toes to wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him into a slippery bone crushing hug. you feel him sigh against you, a warm release of air and his toned chest constricting against you as he wraps his thick arms around your back, squeezing you there for a moment. he honestly wasn’t planning on doing anything about his hard on. he was a guy, sometimes it just happens — it wasn’t nothing to two of you hadn’t seen before.

it’s why he doesn’t notice you slip behind him when you let him back under the stream, the water running down his back as he leans his forearm against the cool tile, resting his forehead in the crook of his arm for a moment as he feels you hug him from behind — your warm slick tits pressing against the muscles in his back. he lets out a quiet hum of acknowledgment, just because it feels nice — and suddenly his jaw is gaping, looking downwards at the way your hand wraps around his length, starting to twist your wrist up and down as you jerk him off.

“shit.” he whispers, one hand bracing the wall and the other resting atop where yours wraps around his stomach to embrace him. he feels your plush lips kissing at the skin of his back and he shudders, continuing to watch the way your smaller hand works him. “thats good, baby. yeah.” he moans quietly but it echoes, bouncing off the tiles which makes you smile softly against him before gently sinking your teeth into the hard planes of muscle in his back.

he lets this go on for quite a while, the steam obstructing everything in the room but the two of you — until he’s had enough and he’s pushing your hand away to back you against the cold shower door, undoubtedly leaving a print of your silhouette in the condensation.

“real good to me aren’t you, huh? shit i’m not ever lettin’ you leave. my fuckin’ girl for ever, hear me?” he breathes into your mouth between parted lip kisses, his hands sliding to grope your tits and cunt, sliding fingers through your sodden folds. “fuck this. fuck your shower, alright? want you in there on the bed, go — now.” he breathes hurriedly, spinning you around and sliding the door open for you, slapping your ass as you step out onto the shower mat with a giggle.

“kay.” you grin, clutching your tits because of the cold air hitting them before disappearing off into the bedroom leaving a trail of dripping water — neglecting the idea of a towel. he tsks at the way you didn’t dry yourself off as he switches off the water and steps out, soon to be following your footsteps.

୨୧ . ﾟ ㅤ૮꒰ ⸝⸝ ◞ ˬ ◟ ꒱ა

[yandere-daydreams]

Title: Obedience Training.

Pairing: Yandere!Illumi x Reader (HxH).

Commissioned by the very lovely @h2o2-and-baking-soda.

Word Count: 1.6k.

TW: Kidnapping, Prolonged Imprisonment, Physical/Psychological Abuse, Pet Play, Dehumanization, and Controlling Behavior.

The ring was beyond repair.

It was the ugly kind of damage, too – the gold chipped and dented, some parts entirely flattened while others had scratched and tarnished to the point of virtual unrecognizability. The jewel itself (a diamond the color of the sky just before sunrise and the size of the nail on your pointer finger) had been pried out of its casing and polished with the blunt side of the hammer you’d pilfered from collection of one of the more forgetful servants. Any fragments that might’ve been worth salvaging were then washed down the sink of your en suite, and the near-microscopic remnants glistened against the table’s dark mahogany – twinkling whenever they caught the ample sunlight.

It'd been his mother’s ring; albeit, one of countless. Breaking it in such an obviously deliberate way had been a stupid thing to do, and a part of you must’ve known that while you were doing it. A part of you must’ve basked in the idiotic rage of it all, must’ve been dying to see what Illumi would be like when he couldn’t hide behind those big, blank eyes and that unreadable expression. As hazy as it seemed, you could remember being excited to see how Illumi would react, what he thought he could do to you that he hadn’t already put you through.

Now, though, standing next to him as he evaluated the damage, watching as those dark, glossy eyes skirted from the splintered wood to the decimated ring to the sparkling residue…

You weren’t excited, anymore.

Several seconds passed in silent paralysis. Images of braided rope and rusted chains and broken legs flashed through your subconscious, but he managed to draw you out of your spiraling thoughts with a low hum, a startling click of his tongue. Finally, he turned toward you and raised a hand, and you braced yourself for the feeling his fist around your neck, two fingers piercing the fragile bone of your skull, his pointed nails clawing out your eyes and leaving you to ble—

His palm came to rest on top of your head, petting over your hair gently. “Sweetheart,” he muttered with a tone as warm and as affectionate as a corpse in a snowstorm. “Would you come with me?”

You opened your mouth, but closed it again just as quickly. You nodded, the gesture stilted and jerky, and Illumi offered an approving smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes, letting his hand fall to your wrist. He pressed a lingering kiss into the top of your head before tugging you gently towards the door.

Neither of you spoke as he guided you through the halls of his mansion. Usually, you could count on running into one of the sociopaths that made up his family or a member of their bloodthirsty staff whenever you left your room, but today, his sprawling home seemed to be vacant, lifeless, as empty as the killers who dwelled inside of it. Steadily, you moved downward, the marble walls turning to rough stone, the filtered sunlight soon traded out for the artificial glow of dim gas lamps. He didn’t drag his feet or try to prolong your walk to the gallows, but he didn’t rush, either, didn’t seem to be in any rush to carry out your inevitably punishment. Eventually, he came to a stop in front of a simple wooden door – unremarkable in every aspect save for the deep well of dread it managed to dredge up inside of you.

With little ceremony, the door was pushed open and you were ushered inside of ahead of him. Your attention quickly fell onto the object most immediately in front of you: a dog crate.

It was almost shockingly mundane; not overly massive, but big enough for a large pitbull or golden retriever, the bars thin but close together and the bottom cushioned by a small bed with pink and white paw prints splattered across it. A handful of miscellaneous items had been laid on top of it. Your attention caught on the collar, first, the cutesy type with a bell and fake (or, knowing Illumi, very real) gemstones studded into the leather and a matching leash, and then headband with what couldn’t be—

Illumi moved past you, approaching the crate and taking up the undeniably, indisputably dog-eared headband. He turned it over in his hands once, then twice, before speaking. “Strip.”

It sounded like gibberish; partially muffled by the static buzzing over your conscious mind and made even more difficult to process by your own unwillingness to do so. “What?”

“Strip,” he repeated. “Or I’ll break every bone in your right hand.”

It was the specificity of the threat (paired with the implication that your left wouldn’t be long to follow) that had your shaking hands reaching for the hem of your shirt and hauling it over your head. You looked towards him for approval after every shed article, but he only seemed to notice your obedience at all when you stood bare and vulnerable in front of him, completely unprotected from both his prying gaze and the chill of the damp dungeon air. You started to move towards him, but he stopped you with a quick shake of his head, a new softness to his expression. “Kneel.”

With a shallow breath, you complied, lowering yourself onto your knees. Now, now, he took his time, his terrible eyes raking over your trembling form as he came to stand in front of you. The collar was fastened around your neck deftly, the leash allowed to hang loose and pool in your lap. He was more careful with the headband – meticulously lining it up with your ears, your face before sliding it into place with a satisfied hum. In a very distant, very muted way, you found that you were surprised less that your hitman-turned-kidnapper would have a pet play lair hidden away in some dark corner of his basement, and more that the aforementioned kidnapper would use that pet play lair to dress you up as a dog, rather than a cat. Illumi was as cat-like as a man could be – silent and skulking, prone to digging his claws into what he loved most – but the more you thought about it, the more sense it made. Cats were smart and sly and perfectly capable of surviving on their own, whereas dogs were stupid and clumsy and almost painfully reliant on their owners. People get cats because they want something that can choose to love them back. People get dogs because they want something that doesn’t have another choice.

“I--Illumi,” you managed, his name still awkward and bitter on your tongue. “I… I’m really sorry, and I’ve learned my lesson, and—”

One second, you were staring at his feet, and the next, your head was snapped to the side, a searing pain stitched deeply into your cheek. His open palm slipped downward, cupping your chin and tilting your head back, forcing you to face him properly. “Good pets don’t talk.” His tone was shockingly sweet, coercive, as if he was trying to explain something very simple to a very stupid child. “Good pets only follow commands. Can you do that for me, puppy?”

Tears were starting to gather in the corners of your eyes, a tight knot lodging itself at the base of your throat, but you did your best to keep both at bay. You started to nod, then thought better of it, straightening your back and squaring your shoulders, trying to communicate the only thing you could seem to think – please don’t hurt me please don’t hurt me please don’t hurt me – without giving him a reason to land another blow. In the end, he rewarded you with the ghost of a smile, his free hand held in front of your mouth. “Good puppy. Now lick.”

You hesitated, but the steady ache pounding in your cheek was enough to make you swallow your pride. Your tongue darted out from between trembling lips, and with no small amount of trepidation, you lapped over the back of his closed fist. He let you begin to pull away before moving – before forcing two fingers into your open mouth and pressing the pads of his digits into the back of your throat. You gagged, your body instinctually recoiling, but he didn’t relent, his thumb digging into your jaw as he held you in place. Your hands shot to his thighs, the tears you’d forced back resurfacing and flooding down your cheeks, but he didn’t budge, didn’t pull away until you were gasping and breathless and utterly humiliated. Finally, he drew back, wiping his spit-soaked digits on your shoulder as his eyes moved from your open mouth to your hands, still balled around the fabric of his pants. “I have something upstairs for those,” he said, voice dripping with all the warmth and affection he usually denied you. “I’ll forgive you this time, puppy, but good pets shouldn’t be able to grab.”

He reached down, taking you by the leash. You were too detached to resist as he half-led, half-dragged you towards the crate. This time, you couldn’t stop yourself from shaking your head, from stammering out little ‘no, no, no’s as his fist curled around your collar and forced you past the metal gate and into the confined space, suddenly so much smaller than it’d seemed from the outside. You had just enough time to scramble for the door before Illumi slammed it shut, letting the clasp fall into place and leaving you withering inside the makeshift cage. You couldn’t stop yourself – hands curling around the bars as you looked toward him with your most pleading expression, but Illumi only shook his head. “You don’t have to sulk. Maybe, with some time, we’ll be able to move your bed somewhere warmer.”

He paused, his grin widening into the first real smile you’d ever earned from him.

“After you’ve proved you can be a good dog, of course.”

[thatesqcrush]

Reel Temptation

Rafael Barba x f!reader. P*rn star! Barba AU.

WC: 2.6K

Summary: It’s the Golden Age of P*rn, circa 1970s. Reader accompanies roommate to a casting call for an adult film. Little does she know that her life is about to change when she meets the male lead.

NSFW for language, talk about sex work and adult films, smoking (cigarettes and recreational drug use).

AN: s/o to @beccabarba for being my soundboard and never wavering encouragement.

AN2: sex work is work. Sex work will always exist - we need to make it safer for sex workers to do their jobs. Continued criminalization of sex work and sex workers is a form of violence by governments and contributes to the high level of stigma and discrimination.

AN3: this is a repost of part one as Tumblr decided it was too explicit & hid it from public view.

The apartment in California was a relic of the 1970s, steeped in the bold, eclectic charm of the era. Low-slung, avocado-green sofas sprawled across the shag-carpeted living room, beneath the warm glow of a globe-shaped chandelier. Wood-paneled walls held abstract prints, while hanging plants in macramé holders swayed gently by the sliding glass doors. In the kitchen, harvest gold appliances hummed quietly, surrounded by dark wood cabinets and a linoleum floor with a dizzying geometric pattern. The bedroom, with its velvet curtains and paisley bedspread, whispered of cozy nights in a space reflecting the free spirited culture of the time.

“Come on!”

A pillow landed on your head. You groaned as you rolled over, facing your roommate, Sadie who was in process of flicking her hair into wings. “I don’t want to go. Three’s Company’s on and this is the episode where there is some kind of understanding.”

“So you’ve already seen it then. Please,” Sadie begged. “You can read lines with me.”

You sat up further and sat with your legs crossed. “Since when do pornos have a plot line?” you sneered.

“It’s not porn - it’s really classy. It’s legit,” your roommate continued. She turned from the vanity to look at you. “Please.”

You let out an irritated sigh as you rolled your eyes. “Fine, fine, fine,” you grumbled. “Where’s this place anyway?”

“In the Valley.”

You stretched your arms as you stood, your shirt lifting exposing your midriff as you did so. “You’re paying for the gas. And any snacks.”

***

The casting office was small and seedy, reeking of smoke and something else. There was a line of women of all shapes and sizes waiting to be called. There’s a desk where an older, bald man is flipping through photos. It’s hot and sticky, the humidity suffocating despite a ceiling fan and standing fan going off on high.

There’s another room adjacent and in there, another man stands a few paces back, fiddling with the view-finder on a film camera. You sit on a peeling linoleum chair next to Sadie as you peruse the so-called script.

“Sadie, are you sure about this?”

Sadie chewed on her bottom lip, thinking. She nodded after a bit. “Yes, totally sure.” The tone in her voice however, led you to believe she was maybe trying to convince herself.

“Look, we can just go,” you whispered. “No one’s gonna give a shit. Or notice for that matter.”

You stood and faced her, outstretching your arm. “Come on, you don’t even have to pay me for the gas.”

A man’s voice filled the room and you heard the gaggle of ladies giggle and swoon. When you turned around, your breath hitched.

“That’s him - that’s my co-star…,” Sadie replied, a large grin on her face. “Hopefully!”

“That’s your … who is he?” you questioned, dropping your arm as you drank him in. Dark hair, thick sideburns, and a full, bushy - but well groomed- mustache. He wore a collared shirt with a bold pattern and fitted flare jeans. His shirt was slightly unbuttoned, revealing a dark chest hair.

His overall appearance exuded confidence and a laid-back charm, embodying the free-spirited, adventurous spirit of the time.

He’s painfully handsome, good-looking in a way that disarms you, making you feel giddy, like a child waiting to meet Santa. He’s so handsome it is almost burning, as if you cannot look at him full on.

“His name is Rafael Barba, but on screen he goes by ‘The Judge.’

You whipped your head to the other voice, this time female and not Sadie’s.

This woman was tall and drop dead gorgeous with high cheekbones and chestnut hair. “Names Olivia. I help book the girls.”

Her gaze fell on you and Sadie and you had a feeling that she was mentally adding you both up.

“First timer?”

Olivia’s sharp gaze landed on you and you shook your head. “Not me. Her.” You jutted your thumb at Sadie.

Olivia narrowed her eyes. “Maybe,” she murmured to herself, dropping her gaze. She looked up at you once more. “Let me go speak to The Judge.”

Sadie squealed. “Oh my God, it’s happening!” She bounced in place.

You rolled your eyes and watched Olivia go over to “The Judge,” who was flirting with the gaggles of women. She tapped his shoulder and then whispered something in his ear. He gave a curt nod, before following her. The Judge is even more handsome up close and his body is thick, in a functionally fit kind of way. The way you knew the weight of him would feel oh so fucking good on top of you, crushing you. A jolt of pleasure coursed through you and as you felt your cheeks heat, but you chalked it up to the heat.

The Judge stroked his chin as was now his turn to assess. He turned to Olivia and pointed to you, whispering in hushed tones. Olivia nodded in response, and you’re only able to make out an ‘I agree.’

The Judge stalked off and Olivia turned around to face the line of still-swooning women. “Casting is over. We’ve got our girl. Come back tomorrow.”

The group of women begin to groan and complain about wasted time and it not being fair as they dispersed. Olivia made her way back to you and Sadie.

“So here’s the deal,” she began and pointed at you. “I know you’re not here for this, but The Judge wants you.”

“Me?” you exclaimed at the same time Sadie replied incredulously, “Her?”

“No no, you made a mistake. I have no interest…” your voice dies off as Olivia narrowed her eyes once more on you.

“He wants you. And he’s willing to double the pay at his cost.”

You shake your head incredulously. “This cannot be happening.”

“Wait, what about me?” Sadie chimed in.

“I didn’t forget about you sweetheart. You’ll be our fluff girl.”

“Fluff girl?” You questioned, puzzled.

“Basically your girl will give a handy or blow to keep his cock up on set. After setting up the desired angle, the director usually requests the actors to hold position, which can be a bit… deflating. The fluff makes sure the actors are fully inflated for the shot.”

“And how much does that pay?” Sadie questioned, her tone disappointed. The pay is a quarter of the original pay. Sadie huffed. “What if I don’t want to?”

“Then the door is right there,” Olivia replied sharply. She turned to you. “What do you think? You in?”

Your brain is swirling and your cunt is throbbing at the idea of being fucked by The Judge. Before you can allow for rationality to seep in, you nod. “No way, no thank you.”

Olivia cocked her head. “Shame. He thought you had it in you.”

“Me?” You squeaked. “It’s just that I— I’ve never—”

“We get it all the time. The good girls who wouldn’t ever dare, the ones who clutch their pearls. It’s just fucking. It’s not that serious. You’re telling me you’ve never fucked before?”

You shook your head. “Of course I have.”

“Okay, so how is this any different? In fact, it’s better. You get paid.”

Olivia switched her gaze from you to Sadie. She gave her a once over again. “You know what, I could use you for another film. I’ve got this other guy, Sonny - real nice on the eyes. Think you’d be perfect. What do you think? I’ll pay you to fluff and for a movie?”

Sadie brightened. “Yeah, perfect.”

Olivia grinned. “I’ll put you up at the motor lodge nearby. Be here tomorrow at noon.” She turned to you again. “What about you sweetheart? Am I wasting my time? Are you telling me that I have to call all of those women back?”

You sucked in air between your teeth and thought about how fucking sexy The Judge was. And so you decided there and then with what was in between your legs, than what was in between your ears.

“I’m in.”

***

You arrived the next afternoon with Sadie. Another assistant - a blonde woman named Amanda - was having you sign off various consent forms.

“Do you have any limits? The Judge wants to know.”

“Limits?” You questioned. “What do you—“

“Jesus Christ,” Amanda replied exasperated. “Olivia told me that you had sex before. Was that a lie?”

“No!” You replied sharply. Amanda raised a brow and you lowered your voice. “Never had any complaints from my boyfriends.”

Amanda smirked. “Limits are shit that you don’t want to do. For instance, anal, golden showers - being pissed on,” she clarified when she saw the confused look on your face. “So if you don’t want to do something, then you let us know.

You cocked a brow. “Um, I guess anything involving piss. And shit, if that’s a thing too.”

Amanda laughed before she lit a cigarette. “Believe me, there are lots of fucked up people out there who like to do all sorts of fucked up stuff - shit included. So you’re good with butt stuff?”

You nodded. “I haven’t done it much, but yeah. I’m good for it.”

Amanda gave you a lascivious, devious grin. “Perfect.”

***

You were shown to your changing room and told to get in a robe. Some test shots were needed to make sure lighting was good. There was another handsome man, with dark hair and dark eyes. He was behind the camera, adjusting the viewfinder.

“Hey,” you reply quietly. The man lifted his gaze and looked over at you. A shit-eating grin spread on his face.

“Hey princess. I’m Nick, I’m the videographer.” He snapped the gum he was chewing. “When you’re ready, just stand in front of the screen and undo your robe, just the top.”

You swallowed nervously, your heart hammering in your chest. “Okay.” You did as he said, your nipples instantly hardening due to the air.

Nick let out a whistle and nodded. “Those are some real nice tits. Real pretty.”

You blushed, feeling your cheeks heat. “Thanks.”

Before long you were doing a full nude shot. Mid-one shot where you where on all fours, looking back at the camera, Olivia walked in. She nodded. “Looking good honey. Got your friend Sadie already in a scene with Sonny. And The Judge is mid-scene.”

You blinked. “Really? Could I watch? Just to get a better idea of what it’ll be like for me?”

Nick snapped his gum and let out a little grunt. Olivia narrowed her eyes. “Nick, you’ve got enough shots, I am sure. Give her a break, she’s a newbie.”

Nick rolled his eyes. You donned your robe back on. Nick walked over your way and jutted his head. “Come on, I’ll take you.”

You followed Nick down a few hallways and soon enough, your ears picked up the sounds of someone clearly getting fucked. The room was small and tight, the crew basically taking up the entirety of the space. You squeezed your way in, the air thick with the scent of sex, lube and sweat. You watched the scene before you completely transfixed and enraptured. There before you was The Judge fucking some woman on a couch. Her legs were in the air as he gripped them tightly, fucking her without abandon.

You felt yourself grow wet as The Judge railed this woman thoroughly, dragging his cock through her slick pussy, over and over.

“Such a good slut, taking my cock so well,” The Judge grunted.

The woman wailed as she came, her tits bouncing in tandem with the pace of being fucked.

“Gonna come,” The Judge grunted. He slid his cock out and your pussy clenched in response. His cock was big and thick, an angry shade of red- almost purple, covered in the woman’s slick ready to bust. ‘Jesus Christ,’ you thought. ‘How am I going to fit that in me?’

He stroked himself over her stomach and then came with a long, low, almost guttural groan. The white ropes of his release coat her stomach, catching the obnoxious overhead lighting.

“Cut!”

The director’s voice snapped you out of your reverie.

The woman sat up and stood, before grabbing a robe to slip on, leaving it hanging open. She leaned over to grab a towel to wipe herself. The Judge slipped on his pants, foregoing underwear. He looked up and met your gaze.

"You think you can keep up, sunshine?"

You read the surprise in his eyes as you replied. "I can take anything you dish out, bub."

The Judge smirked. “Rafael Barba.” He extended his hand and you shook it in response. You relayed your name and he repeated it slowly, as if savoring it. And the way he said it was just delicious.

“Liv told me you have never done this before.”

You furrowed your brows. “Sex or porn?”

Rafael laughed and he reached into his back pocket to pull out a pack of Marlboros. He offered you one and you took it. He slid a lighter from his front pocket and flicked it open and offered it out. You take a step closer, leaning forward to dip the tip of your cigarette into the flame. It ignited and you step back, smoke mingling in the air.

“Porn. If you had been a virgin, I would be fucking your friend and not you in about an hour.”

You nodded before taking a drag. “Nope, definitely not a virgin. You blew out smoke before you continued, “So what is our scene or whatever?”

“Liv didn’t tell you?” Rafael seemed amused. “We have a whole courtroom set up. You’re gonna be the lawyer who gets called into chambers.”

Your eyes widened a little. “Oh.”

“I figure we’ll start with some oral, both of us and the I’ll fuck you from behind over the desk. I’ll finish on your ass. That work?”

You ran through it in your mind. “What about if I lay on my back on the desk and you can finish on my tits?”

Rafael ran a finger through his mustache as he eyed you. His voice was low and dark as he replied. “Yeah, that’d work sunshine. I’ll take the lead.” He was still shirtless and you eyed him appreciatively.

Rafael lifted your chin with his finger and your eyes met his. “Seriously. Don’t worry. I’ll take care of you.” He winked and you flushed in response, already sensing the charge in the air.

Rafael eyed your robe, not completely undone but a little loose. He traced a finger over the trim by the opening. “Do you mind if I get a peek?”

Butterflies fluttered in your stomach, suddenly feeling vulnerable. Part of you was excited, thrilled by the risquéness of it all. The other part was that he was a stranger - the men who had seen you naked were boyfriends who awkwardly groped you in the backseat of cars or movie theaters.

You swallowed and nodded before undoing your robe, letting it fall to your lower back. You felt hot as Rafael immediately licked his lips. “Fuck, those are some pretty tits.”

You felt yourself blush in response.

“May I?” Rafael asked and it took you a second to realize that he meant if he could touch you. You nodded.

His hands were large, with long dexterous fingers, well manicured and patterned with veins. You watched his hand flex and you knew instantly, every movement intentional. Patterned with veins, well manicured, with unexpected strength. His skin was warm and soft. Rafael’s touch began rather innocently, along your arm up to along your shoulder. He then brought it down your clavicle to your sternum. He cupped one breast with his hand, feeling the weight of it against his palm. When his finger brushed your nipple, a bolt of pleasure shot down to your core. You couldn’t help but let out a soft moan.

“Mmmm, so responsive,” Rafael said, his voice dark and low. “We really are going to have a lot of fun,” Rafael replied once more as he took a drag of his smoke.

TBC.

AN4: Lmk if you want to be tagged when I post part two!

[k9wa]

𑣲 EVERYTHING. ft. BLADE

⠀ — it’s easier to nurse your wounds in silence with a furrowed brow.

⠀ OR

⠀ — you get your ass beat bad enough for blade to be affectionate.

⚠︎ mentions & descriptions of injuries, blood, comfort, gn reader, awkward blade save me, self indulgent && finally out of the drafts.

“what happened to you?”

blade inquired, tone teetering on teasing as you trudged into your shared bedroom, head hung low as you walked on heavy, unstable legs. it looked as if someone had slipped iron into the soles of your shoes.

blade barely heard the muttered response you slur out as a bloodied hand reached out to hold the wall for support. he was on his feet in front of you in seconds, hands lightly finding their way to your waist to help hold you up straight. blade had to restrain himself from lifting you up by your underarms and shaking an explanation out of you once he noticed the smeared red hand print you left behind.

“...hey.”

his voice was quieter the second time around, bending at the knees a small bit so he could finally meet your cloudy eyes. it grabs your attention well enough, you finally looked up enough for him to see the scratches on your face alongside the sharp, clean cut going from your brow bone to cheek bone. he felt his palms sweat.

blade wasted no time in scooping you up and placing you down on your bed. he would worry of the blood soiled sheets after you were taken care of.

he pushed your hair behind your ears, giving him a final clear glimpse of your wounded face. despite his indifferent expression, stoic and blank as always, he nearly hissed.

you whine weakly and groan in pain as blade lifts your shirt up over your head, checking your torso for any more wounds. there was another sharp slash across the left of your ribcage, but it was— thankfully— rather shallow. a perfect example of you getting out of the way of someone’s sharpened steel at the very last second.

ren retrieved a wet cloth, dampened with cold water that he didn’t possess the patience to allow to warm up before sticking the fabric under the faucet. he cleaned the dried blood off your skin, actions precise and unimaginably gentle as he watched it flake and smudge away with the water.

you’re silent, one eye stuck shut as a result of your injury and the other fluttering in an attempt to stay open as you tiredly gaze up at him through your lashes. once you were finally relieved of the dirt and sweat sticking to you, ren moved to start wrapping thick, taught bandages where they were needed.

he didn’t pry right away, you were hurting. blade was no stranger to pain and the way it left a blinding fog over your senses, stripping you of any capabilities and leaving you with nothing but dreadful awareness of how terrible your bones ache and your flesh burns.

but truly, with each circle of the roll of cloth around your torso, went more fuel onto the flame of violence and vengeance deep inside blade’s gut, the fiery anger quickly overwhelming his consideration.

“what happened to you?”

ren repeated as he taped off the covering on your ribs. his tone was less taunting the second time around. he gets up from his knees and sits on the bed beside you, tilting your head up by your chin to assess the wound to your eye.

“doesn’t matter, believe it or not i won.” you replied lazily, good eye slowly making its way over his hardened features. his high cheekbones, sharp brow bone, his chiselled jaw. blade has half a mind to scoff.

“that’s not what i asked.” he grew more stern, lightly tugging your eyelid open to check if your cornea had withstood any damage.

ren listened as you half-heartedly recalled the events to him. a group of mara struck had stumbled upon you on your way back from a meeting with elio and kafka. you made your way out, but the injuries sustained were from when you had forgotten you often have to knock the mara struck down twice before they actually stay down. a silly slip up on your part.

blade finished wrapping a bandage around your eye and placing a few smaller ones on your scratches by the time you finished your explanation. his speed and familiarity with a roll of gauze made you question just how often he had done this to himself.

he didn’t respond as he grabbed you a clean shirt, picking up any garbage and tossing it out silently as he threw the soiled cloth in an empty cleaning bucket. you were curled up on the bed and fighting sleep when he returned just a minute later.

ren didn’t know what to say, exactly. the mara that had attacked you were good and dead, so he didn’t have to go after them and dirty his own hands once more as a “precaution” (he would not allow any being that harmed you in such a way keep it’s life—) yet he was never one for comfort. even after all the years he’d spent with you.

re-learning the humanizing emotions that had been cast from his soul once it was ripped and forced back into his body was proving to take more time than one might expect.

blade, after standing with your back to him almost awkwardly for a few moments, took a seat beside you again and placed his chin down on your shoulder. his thumb mindlessly moves to rub circles on your hip.

it’d be a lie to say seeing you hurt didn’t scare him. scare? terrify? shake him up? the synonyms weren’t relevant. blade continued to try and convince himself there was truly a difference between them.

being immortal had led him to forget what the limits of the human body might exactly be. he was surprised his brow didn’t furrow at the thought of your lesions being fatal as he cleaned and wrapped them.

you are everything. you are the last thing blade is able to call his own. you are the only thing blade truly feels he belongs to, and vice versa. you are everything.

“be more careful next time.” ren said quietly, lips against the skin of your arm as he kissed your shoulder. “please.”

you rolled over slowly, careful not to lay on your freshly cut side and pulled his hand up to your mouth, placing a kiss to his knuckles.

“i will. thank you.” you’re too tired for a witty response. blade nodded. he didn’t believe you, years of being left behind and the amount of bloodshed he’d witnessed did not allow him.

“get some sleep.”

he stood, shoulders straight and nearly tense as he walked away and picked up his weapon leaned against the wall. running through some of the drills his late master taught him was ought to lift the stress— the reminder that despite your strength you were but a fragile human— from his back. he did that often when he was beginning to feel overwhelmed or over-frustrated. it was routine, it was the same, it made sense to him.

“i love you.” you mumbled against your pillow, eyes already closed as sleep quickly consumed you.

“as do i.” blade said quietly, slipping outside.

⠀ 𑣲 MASTERLIST / GOT A REQUEST ?