#a few days after I found these gems

[rosicheeks]

hmmmm… 7/25/22? 👀

-🌸

[tobbesdiscordkitten]

Thomas Daun (left) and Tobias Forge (right) in 2020.

Photo taken by Jimmy Johansson

[fushitoru]

chapter 7: the rebound a bridgerton au

pairing ⸺ duke!satoru gojo x fem!reader

summary ⸺ dearest gentle reader, a new season is upon us as the ton gets ready for a season filled with drama, heartbreak, and passion. after being crowned diamond of the season, duke gojo⸺only looking to marry just to secure his inheritance⸺has his sights set on you, the easiest (and most obvious) option. later, when you catch his saying unsavory things about you on a terrace when he least suspected it, you swear to never marry gojo. as london's fashionable set goes through yet another wedding season, will there be hope for scandalous gossip, hate, and thinly veiled insults, or will we witness blooming love and passion?

warnings ⸺ nsfw, enemies to lovers, bridgerton au, angst, fluff, SUGGESTIVE, eventual smut, jealousy, misogyny, description of injury, concussion, blood, regency era au, gojo being infuriating, reader also being infuriating, both of them are clueless honestly

chapter summary ⸺ after the arrival of your dearest brother, you pursue a new angle to the season, one to prove that you, the diamond, will not be scorned. new opportunities with duke nanami arise and with it jealousy and bitterness fester in the ballroom. (6.8k)

prev. the house party | next. the lake

general masterlist | series masterlist

Once again, dear Reader, this humble Author finds herself vindicated. Country house parties, as ever, remain the fertile soil from which the most delicious scandals bloom. And today’s revelation is no exception.

Yes, indeed, you read it here first: the dashing and ever-elusive Lord Satoru Gojo will not be marrying Miss Itadori, this season’s most celebrated diamond. The murmurs have already begun spreading like wildfire, bringing sighs of relief from hopeful ladies and knowing smirks from their watchful chaperones. The eligible Duke-to-be’s sudden return to certified bachelorhood is, no doubt, a development many find most agreeable.

But what, pray, has caused this sudden turn of events? The dissolution of an arrangement so seemingly perfect? Alas, even this Author—a tireless seeker of truths—has found the particulars elusive. Was it a clash of personalities? A misstep at the ball? Or perhaps, a secret grievance unearthed during those long, candlelit evenings at the country estate?

What this Author can confirm is that the ballroom whispers point to Lord Gojo’s own doing, based upon the countenances and actions of the pair at the ball. Did the ever-charming lord tire of his diamond’s sparkle, or has he found a more alluring treasure elsewhere? The possibilities are endless, and so, it seems, is the intrigue surrounding the pair.

One thing remains certain: while Miss Itadori may have stumbled in this engagement, she remains a diamond among gems—brilliant, resilient, and admired. What paths now await her are anyone’s guess, but if this Author knows anything, it is that diamonds shine brightest under pressure.

As for Lord Gojo, the question lingers: will his rakish reputation survive this latest scandal unscathed? Or has he, at last, met a match too dazzling even for him to outshine? Rest assured, dear Reader, this Author will remain ever-vigilant, pen poised and ready to uncover the truth.

⸻ LADY WHISTLEDOWN’S SOCIETY PAPERS

You could have had a bit more tact when informing Sukuna of the events of the past few days, for the reaction you gained made you realize that you may have made a misstep.

“What?!” Sukuna roared, looking at the three of you with fury. Yuji jumped, while you and Choso grimaced.  “He did what?!”

“Now, now, brother,” Choso stood up nervously to pat his younger brother on the shoulder. “It is all good and well, for I have arranged for a better match for our dear sister—”

“A duel!” Sukuna bellowed, standing up from his seat on the couch to stomp his way to the door. “I will challenge that Gojo fellow to a duel—” It was only until Yuji ran and tackled him to the ground that he was waylaid to God knows what he was going to do to Lord Gojo. You and Choso could only watch the scene, too perforce to the strength of bulls that your brothers had to be able to interrupt. 

A few scratches and awfully purple looking bruises later, Sukuna and Yuji were seated on the couch once again, thanks to Choso’s plead for nonviolence. It was then that Choso started explaining what had occurred in the season so far. “Mother insisted,” he sighed, shaking his head. “She seemed to have struck a mutual…entente with the Duchess of Gojo. It was only a matter of time before Mother forced her ways. Now that it has not redound in her favor, I have even more rationale to have my…way with Sister’s matches. For God’s sake, Sukuna stop glaring at me Mother left me behind on the first ball—”

Sukuna did not stop glaring; in fact, he chose that moment to take a long slurp of his tea while staring fiercely at him while Choso shifted nervously. After a long bout of silence, he finally offered, “I understand Mother can be very pushy, and that you, Choso, are not fierce enough to withstand her.” Choso did not even protest, just offered a deadpan. “But I, however, will not be a feather to a simple blow of the wind that Mother is. It is time our dear sister lived up to her reputation, what she has prepared so hard for.” He looks upon you with a soft gaze—that is, a soft gaze for Sukuna. “No matter how tactless Gojo’s estrangement was, Sister will recover, so long as her morale has not lessened.  Sukuna’s head turned sharply to you, “It has not weakened, right Sister? He has not left you heartbroken?”

You could hear your heart as you looked at your brother, dumbfounded. His perceptive gaze disarmed you, but you blurted out a “Of course not” and turned to hastily grab a pastry from the table next to the loveseat you were seated at.. When you looked back at your brother, you jumped as his gaze lingered on you then nonetheless turned to glare at your brother when Yuji opened his mouth, undoubtedly ready to irritatedly remark on his denseness.

No matter, you think to yourself. Whatever you feel about Gojo is of no matter. The visit at the manor was only a delay and a small obstacle for your season. It was time to attend to the matter at hand: finding a husband. 

The dewy grass kissed the hem of your nightgown as you wandered to the old swing set on the far edge of the manor grounds—a relic of your childhood, weathered but enduring. The creak of the chains was a sound that had long since embedded itself in your memory, a reminder of simpler days when duty had yet to tighten its grip.

You had not been able to sleep.

The house was still, the hush of midnight settling over its grand halls and sprawling grounds. Yet sleep evaded you, your thoughts as restless as the autumn breeze that stirred the curtains of your chamber. In the quiet, the weight of your obligations pressed heavily upon you, a familiar but unwelcome companion. Deciding that solitude under the stars might grant clarity where the confines of your room could not, you slipped on a shawl and had ventured outside.

“Couldn’t sleep either?” Sukuna’s voice cut through the quiet, low and teasing. He was seated on a swing with his big frame illustrating a comical sight on the small seat. His silhouette was faintly illuminated by the dim glow of his cigarillo, and the faint ember cast fleeting shadows across his sharp features, making his smirk all the more pronounced.

The unexpected sight of him startled you for a moment, though you quickly masked your surprise. You drew your shawl tighter around your shoulders, the chill of the night settling into your skin, and stepped closer. “And here I thought I was the only one who sought refuge in our old playground at such an hour,” you replied lightly, though your voice carried the faint weight of sleeplessness. “What brings you here?”

He took a long, deliberate drag from the cigarillo before discarding it into the damp grass, the embers hissing softly as they extinguished. Straightening, he gestured to the empty swing beside him. “Thinking,” he said simply. “And you? Or do I even need to ask?”

You hesitated for only a moment before lowering yourself onto the swing, your fingers grazing the cold chains as you pushed back slightly. The seat creaked beneath your weight, swaying gently with your movements. The motion stirred a familiar ache of nostalgia—a reminder of days when life felt less complicated. “What else could it be but the endless circus of expectations Mother has so kindly bestowed upon me?”

The bitterness in your tone was impossible to conceal, and Sukuna chuckled darkly. He reached up to push a hand through his disheveled hair, his movements purposeful, almost theatrical. “Ah, yes,” he said mockingly. “The marriage parade. The grand auctioning of one’s life for the sake of the family name. What a fine role you’ve been cast in, dear sister. I don’t envy you.”

You gave a dry laugh, your voice quiet yet tinged with resolve. “Unfortunately, dear brother,” you began, staring into the star-dappled sky, “it is my duty to be wed.”

Sukuna turned to you sharply, his brow furrowing. “It is not your duty, least of all when it robs you of your freedom.”

A protest began to form on his lips, but you held up a hand, your expression soft yet resolute. “Let me finish,” you said, your tone firm but affectionate. Taking a deep breath, you continued, “If I were to grow old into a spinster, there would be no one to take care of me. You and Yuji would inherit our lands and manors, and Choso is the viscount; there would be no space for me except with some of our aunts.”

At the mention of your aunts, both of you shuddered involuntarily. The thought of their overbearing presence, their sharp tongues and endless criticisms, was enough to unite even the most quarrelsome of siblings.

“You cannot take care of me forever,” you said softly, your gaze dropping to the ground. The swing swayed faintly as you spoke, the motion as restless as your thoughts. “One day, you—or any of our brothers—might choose to start a family with someone you love. It would be intrusive of me to remain dependent on you all.”

Sukuna scoffed, his voice rising slightly with indignation. “You know better than anyone that I aim to travel the world. I cannot be chained to a family or a manor—not now, not ever.”

You turned to him, your eyes softening as you regarded his familiar fire, the same defiance that had always set him apart from the others. “Sukuna,” you said gently, your voice tinged with fondness, “you may do as you please, and I would never wish to impede you. But I cannot rely on you indefinitely. You deserve to live freely, to make your own choices without the burden of my future weighing on your conscience.”

Once again, silence enveloped you both, broken only by the faint creak of the swings and the rustle of the wind through the trees. Then, Sukuna eventually broke the quiet with a heavy sigh. “Then we must make sure to do well and find you a husband on your terms.”

You turned to him, brow arched in curiosity. “Whatever do you mean?”

“I mean,” he said, his lips curling into a mischievous smirk, “that you must stop playing the part Mother has assigned you. Demure and meek may be what she wants, but it’s hardly the truth of you. Besides,” he added, leaning closer as if to share a conspiracy, “do you think the kind of husband you’d want would fall for such a facade?”

His words caught you off guard, and you frowned slightly. “Are you implying I’m to frighten potential suitors away?”

“Not frighten,” Sukuna corrected, his tone amused. “But consider this: if a man is drawn to meekness, might that not suggest he wishes to dominate or control? Would you truly wish to tether yourself to such a person? Or would you rather find someone who can appreciate your independence, who will meet you as an equal?”

His reasoning gave you pause. The image of a husband who might respect your will, who might value the sharpness of your mind and the strength of your character, was tempting—if not entirely what you needed. “And how, pray tell, do you suggest I go about finding such a man?”

Sukuna’s grin widened. “Start by being yourself, unapologetically. Let them see the wit, the fire, the resolve that I know so well. Let them see you, and if they can’t handle it, then they aren’t worth your time.”

You smiled faintly, your heart lighter from his words. After all, this scheming was due on your part; you were only grateful this shift occurred with Sukuna as your humble advisor. “It’s a daring plan, brother. Let us hope it does not lead to my complete social ruin.”

Sukuna laughed, the sound rich and unrestrained. “If it does, then you shall travel the world with me. Who needs societal approval when there’s an entire world to explore?”

For a moment, the weight of your burdens felt a little easier to bear. Under the vast, starlit sky, you allowed yourself to hope that perhaps, just perhaps, there was a future where duty and happiness could coexist.

Despite the peace conversing with Sukuna had granted you, sleep evaded you still, leaving you to roll onto your side, the cool fabric of the pillow offering no solace. Your thoughts had been louder than ever these past weeks, and one name in particular echoed through your mind like a stubborn refrain: Gojo.

His face came unbidden, as vivid as if he were standing at the foot of your bed. That insufferable smirk, the casual way he tilted his head as if always in on some grand secret. He saw through you—that much was undeniable, no matter how much you abhorred it. It wasn’t just the way his piercing gaze seemed to cut through your defenses, stripping away the layers of pleasantries and propriety until you were left exposed. It was his words, too—sharp, direct, and unyielding. Unlike everyone else, he wasn’t content to let you be the demure and dutiful daughter your mother had so painstakingly sculpted.

You turned onto your back, staring up at the shadowed canopy above, the weight of his judgment pressing against your chest. “He wouldn’t want to marry me either,” you thought bitterly, biting your lip to suppress a laugh that was more self-deprecating than amused. Why would he? I am only but a pathological people-pleaser—a woman who smiles and nods and folds herself into whatever shape is required of her. It was a role you had perfected, a mask you wore so often that you sometimes forgot it wasn’t your face. And yet, he saw through it.

That was the part that unsettled you most—not his arrogance, not his sharp tongue, but his ability to cut through your defenses as though they were paper. He saw you, in all your contradictions and uncertainties, and somehow, you suspected that he pitied you for them. Or worse, respected you less for it.

Your stomach twisted at the thought, and you turned onto your other side, burying your face into the pillow. No wonder I’m still unmarried. The thought came unbidden, sharp and cruel. What man would want a wife who couldn’t even decide who she wanted to be?

But that wasn’t fair—not entirely. You had a plan, didn’t you? A bold, liberating plan that would take you far from the shadow of your mother’s expectations. You could already picture her face when you told her—calm, composed, and quietly furious, as though your refusal to obey were a personal affront. The thought brought the faintest flicker of satisfaction, but it was fleeting.

The plan wasn’t perfect, nor was it foolproof. It hinged on one pivotal point: finding a husband who could be an equal partner rather than a master. A man who could grant you the freedom to forge your own path in peace, without the constant weight of disapproval bearing down on you.

Your thoughts wandered to Duke Nanami. Equal in power to Gojo, fair-minded, and kind—a man with no appetite for games or artifice. If you manage to secure a match with him, the ton would not view your…blunder with Gojo with such amusement. Insofar your interactions this season, he had always treated you with quiet respect, never pressing you into conversations you didn’t wish to have or cornering you with expectations. He would be a good man to marry, you thought. A safe choice.

And yet, even as you considered him, Gojo’s face intruded once more, unwelcome and unavoidable. Duke Nanami was everything Gojo wasn’t—measured, steady, predictable. But it was Gojo who set your mind alight, who made you question things you had long accepted as unchangeable truths. He irritated you, challenged you, unnerved you in a way no one else did.

You sighed, turning again, the sheets tangling around your legs like restraints. The very fact that Gojo occupied your thoughts at all was infuriating. He had no place there, no right to linger in the quiet moments when you were supposed to find peace. And yet, here he was, as persistent in your mind as he was in person.

The plan. You needed to focus on the plan. Liberating yourself from your mother’s expectations wasn’t about Gojo or Duke Nanami or anyone else. It was about reclaiming yourself, about becoming a woman who didn’t need to twist herself into shapes for anyone—not your mother, not a potential husband, and certainly not Gojo.

And it would start at your wardrobe.

You give the most polite smile you can muster, but you do not need the mirror in front of you to know that your countenance is strained, the edges of your smile not reaching your eyes. “Lower it even further.”

A beat passes in the room as the modiste, your mother, and Sukuna stare at you in incredulity.  The bustline to your dress is low. Of course, it is not yet teetering on the edge of what is socially acceptable, and that is the position you want it to be. Hence, you gesture to Sukuna, prompting him to regain his senses and snap his head towards Momo. “Please attend to my sister’s request.”

You could smell what you mother was about to say, even if she had not yet done so. “My dear,” she began, “I hardly think that’s appro–” Sukuna’s glares reorients itself now to focus on your mother, and she purses her lips with what appears to be arduous effort, knowing a quarrel with Sukuna would escalate quite quickly, both immediate and unwise.  

Madame Momo, for the better, offers no protest as she lowers the deep, wine red fabric she was upholding against your body. If you were not wearing your regular clothes, you would know that quite a bit of the swell of your breasts would be framed by the dress. However, it wasn’t enough. “A bit lower.”

The modiste lets out a small sigh, her needle poised mid-air as she hesitates. “My lady, to lower it further would risk—” she pauses delicately, “—compromising the structural integrity of the gown.”

“I appreciate your insight, Madame, and know that you are quite skilled at your craft,” you flash her a semi-apologetic smile. After all, she is the one that has to attend to your…rebranding crisis and revamp a majority of your wardrobe. “However, I am afraid that I’d like to do something new this season. Something eye-catching.”

A faint chuckle escapes her lips, no doubt spurred on by the flattery. With a practiced hand, she adjusts the fabric once more, lowering it to the precise balance of scandalous and sophisticated. She steps back, her critical eye assessing her own handiwork. “Well, it will definitely be eye-catching.”

“Precisely.” You nod in approval, smoothing the line of the fabric with your fingers. “I believe Lady Whistledown,” you add, your voice tinged with knowing confidence, “will ensure that the modiste responsible for the diamond’s striking attire becomes the talk of the season.”

Momo’s lips twitch into a smile, and she dips her head in acknowledgment, already returning to her work with renewed purpose. Sukuna, standing to the side, folds his arms and smirks at the scene, clearly entertained by your audacity.

Your mother, meanwhile, remains silent, though her pursed lips betray her disapproval. Let her simmer, you think, satisfaction curling in your chest. This season is yours to command, and you will not be overlooked.

I cannot do this. I cannot I cannot I cannot I cann—

“Sister!” Sukuna called out. You regained your senses, snapping your head at once to look at him, who was holding out his hand. Swallowing, you grabbed it so he could assist you out of the carriage. What had you in a tizzy was the sheer amount of people. Yet again, you were attending your first party after the events in the countryside but this time without your mother and Yuuji. Not only had the people you were accompanied with changed, but also different attire. A red silk dress fell over your curves gracefully, the draping across your chest a bit lower than usual. It is the dress of your dreams—one that you would have worn if not for your mother and her beliefs regarding your image. Now, your clothing was still socially acceptable but nevertheless daring—exactly the image you wanted to present. 

However, it was safe to say that after the events of the house party, venturing out in another—with so much of your chest exposed—had you nervous. Oh God, perhaps this wasn’t the brightest of my ideas— (a/n she’s just a girl :( )

“Presenting Miss Itadori, Mister Itadori, and the Right Honorable The Viscount Itadori!” As you were announced to the room, with your brothers linking arms on either side of you, you smiled—trying not to let the nerves show. At the sound of your name, the buzz of conversation faltered, dozens of heads turning toward you. You felt the weight of their gazes—sharp, judgmental, curious. You were certain half of them were eager to witness the fallout of Whistledown’s latest scandal, while the other half seemed transfixed by the boldness of your attire.

Your eyes flitted over the sea of faces as you moved through the room. There were gasps, poorly veiled whispers, and even a few widened eyes aimed at Sukuna, but what truly set your nerves alight was the attention fixed squarely on you. You resisted the urge to fidget, to adjust the neckline of your gown, to shrink under their scrutiny.

Then, amid the crowd, your gaze locked onto a familiar figure with a piercing stare—Suguru Geto.

He was lounging by the far wall, a glass of wine in hand, his dark eyes gleaming with mirth. An amused smirk tugged at the corner of his lips as he shook his head, clearly entertained. Your heart stuttered, the heat rushing to your cheeks making your nerves spike further. Am I being mocked?

Before the thought could consume you, he raised his glass in a mock salute, a gesture of acknowledgment—perhaps even respect. He then nudged the man standing next to him, none other than Duke Nanami.

Your pulse quickened at the sight of the Duke, his composed demeanor a stark contrast to Geto’s casual amusement. The weight of Nanami’s steady, discerning gaze was one you weren’t prepared to meet—not tonight. In the periphery, you caught Geto slipping toward the courtyard, his laughter soft but audible as he disappeared into the night.

You tore your gaze away just in time, focusing straight ahead as you approached the Queen. Your shoulders stiffened, the intricate beading of your gown catching in the light. The murmurs grew fainter, the towering figure of Her Majesty now looming just ahead. With each step, your pulse thundered louder in your ears, but you kept your chin high, determined not to falter.

When you and your brothers reached the foot of the throne, you slipped your arms free from theirs and sank into the deepest curtsy you could manage. "Your Majesty," you murmured, lowering your head to avoid the weight of her gaze. The richness of the room—gold-trimmed drapes, towering portraits, and the hum of whispered conversations—did little to steady your nerves.

"Rise," the Queen commanded, her tone clipped and dismissive, the single word laced with impatience. You obeyed, your movements deliberate and slow, feeling the weight of every eye in the chamber on your shoulders. When you met her gaze, she was already appraising you, her sharp eyes scanning you from head to toe. Her scrutiny was clinical, and when she sighed audibly, it was clear her judgment was far from favorable.

“I have not been…pleased by the recent affairs, diamond,” the Queen began, her voice cold and detached, like a blade gliding through silk. A sniff punctuated her words, and the lump in your throat grew harder to swallow. “I fear this is a failure to the crown.”

The room seemed to tilt, your heartbeat quickening in your chest. The Queen’s disappointment carried a weight that could crush reputations, and yours was teetering precariously on the edge of her approval.

“However,” her tone shifted ever so slightly, and you found yourself snapping to attention, clinging to that single word like a lifeline. “Your recent change in…style is fitting.”

You blinked, unsure if you had heard her correctly. The Queen’s gaze lingered on the daring neckline of your gown, the rich red fabric catching the light in just the right way to emphasize its boldness. “You are not a simple and bland gem, Miss Itadori.” Her words were deliberate, measured, and the faintest hint of approval gleamed in her sharp eyes. “You are a diamond, and you must start to shine like it.”

For a moment, you were too stunned to respond. The Queen’s words were praise, yes, but they also carried an implicit warning: a diamond that failed to sparkle was of no use to anyone, least of all the crown.

“Thank you, Your Majesty,” you said, your voice steady but quiet, and you curtsied again, the fabric of your gown whispering against the marble floor. The Queen’s gaze swept over you once more before she turned her attention elsewhere, her dismissal unspoken but clear. As you rose again, Choso placed a reassuring hand on your elbow, a subtle anchor in the sea of your swirling thoughts.

A light, “You all are dismissed.”

The cool night air wrapped around Suguru Geto as he strolled into the courtyard, his boots crunching softly against the gravel path. The faint strains of the ballroom's orchestra followed him, muffled now by the grand walls of the manor. A slow, self-satisfied smile crept across his lips as he glanced up at the stars. The night felt ripe with possibility, though it was the scene he had just left that truly amused him.

He exhaled, letting the crisp air settle over him, before taking another measured step toward the fountain at the courtyard’s center. His fingers grazed the cool stone edge, the chill a welcome change from the warmth of the crowded ballroom. He savored the silence, only for it to be broken by the familiar sound of approaching footsteps.

“Geto,” a voice called out, casual but clipped.

Suguru turned slowly, almost lazily, as though he hadn’t already recognized the speaker. Gojo Satoru emerged from the shadows of the colonnade, his silver hair glowing faintly in the moonlight. He moved with his usual languid ease, though his sharp blue gaze belied his carefree demeanor.

“Well, well,” Suguru greeted, his tone light but edged with something sharp. “You’re out here. Don’t tell me you’ve finally tired of the fawning crowds?”

Gojo came to a stop a few paces away, crossing his arms as he leaned against one of the marble columns. “Needed some air. The room’s packed with too many people pretending to like each other.” His gaze flicked to Suguru, scrutinizing. “And you? Slipping out to avoid trouble, or cause it?”

Suguru chuckled, swirling the wine in his glass before taking a slow sip. “Oh, you wound me, Satoru. Can’t a man enjoy a moment of peace without being accused of scheming?”

“You?” Gojo raised a skeptical eyebrow. “Not a chance. So, what’s your angle this time?”

Suguru let the question hang, savoring the quiet tension between them. He set his glass down on the fountain’s edge, turning to fully face Gojo. His smirk widened as he finally spoke. “No angle. Just admiring the company tonight. Speaking of which…” He paused for dramatic effect, brushing an imaginary speck of dust from his sleeve. “Miss Itadori made quite the entrance.”

Gojo’s expression didn’t change immediately, but Suguru saw the faint flicker of something—irritation, maybe, or something more carefully hidden. Gojo’s mouth twitched into a scoff, though the sound was faint, almost perfunctory.

“What about her?” Gojo asked, his tone deliberately disinterested, but Suguru noted how his fingers flexed briefly before he shoved his hands into his pockets.

Suguru hummed thoughtfully, his gaze drifting toward the sky as if considering his next words carefully. “She looked… radiant tonight. Stunning, really. I can’t imagine half the room wasn’t staring. Though, I must say, some seemed more surprised than others.” His eyes darted back to Gojo, watching for a reaction.

Gojo rolled his eyes, though there was a tightness in his jaw that Suguru didn’t miss. “She’s just another debutante. Why would I care what she’s wearing?”

“Why indeed?” Suguru replied, his voice deceptively mild. He stepped closer, leaning against the fountain with an easy grace. “But it does make one wonder—what kind of man would care? Surely someone with a sharp eye for detail. Someone with… let’s say, a bustful interest.”

Gojo stiffened slightly, a flicker of irritation crossing his face. “You’re imagining things.”

“Am I?” Suguru tilted his head, studying Gojo with an intensity that bordered on playful. “Because I could swear you seemed a little distracted back there. And not by the Queen, mind you. Why did you leave as soon as the Itadoris were announced?”

“Drop it, Geto.” Gojo’s voice was sharper now, but there was an edge of unease beneath the command.

Suguru’s smirk deepened as he tried to fight the urge to snicker at his friend, but he let the moment linger, letting Gojo stew in his discomfort. He picked up his wine glass again, swirling the liquid idly before taking another slow sip. Finally, he straightened, his tone turning lighter, though no less pointed.

“Well, whatever it is—or isn’t—you’d better sort it out soon.” He started to walk past Gojo, his footsteps deliberately slow. Just as he passed, he paused, his voice dropping to a low murmur. “Because if I didn’t know any better, I’d say you’re in danger of losing your famously cool head.”

Gojo didn’t respond immediately, but Suguru didn’t need him to. The slight narrowing of his eyes, the subtle clench of his jaw—those were all the confirmation he needed for his plan.

Suguru chuckled softly, a sound more amused than mocking, and continued on his way, his voice drifting back over his shoulder. “Enjoy the rest of the night, Satoru. Something tells me it’s going to be… illuminating.”

Left alone, Gojo exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair as he glared at the retreating figure. “Bastard,” he muttered under his breath, though his voice lacked fervor. Still, Suguru’s words lingered, circling his mind like an itch he couldn’t quite scratch. He turned his gaze back toward the ballroom, his thoughts uncomfortably crowded with images of a certain young lady and the maddening smirk of a man who always seemed to know too much.

It appears that you and Duke Nanami have much in common, for you are able to hold a most pleasant conversation with him.

The din of the ballroom fades to a dull murmur as you stand near the refreshment table, your gaze politely fixed on the Duke. His presence is commanding yet unassuming—a rare quality that draws you in. Dressed in a deep navy coat that matches the intensity of his solemn eyes, he inclines his head slightly as he speaks, the weight of his words tempered by the gentleness in his tone.

The arrangement is perfect. You have successfully caught your target, much to the chagrin of ladies. After all, it was not all days that Duke Nanami took interest in a lady. You would have to credit Choso; he had researched that HIs Grace did not like overbearing mamas accompanying their girls—a most rational opinion. Posing fiery opinions without the presence of anyone except yourself, it seemed that you had hit the mark.

“I find, Miss Itadori,” he says, his voice smooth yet deliberate, “that many in our circles underestimate the joy of simple pursuits. They mistake extravagance for fulfillment.” He takes a measured sip from his glass, his gloved fingers resting lightly on its stem.

You nod, a genuine smile forming on your lips. “I could not agree more, Your Grace. There is a certain comfort in the unadorned pleasures of life. A good book, a quiet morning—these seem to me the most worthwhile indulgences.”

The corner of his mouth quirks up in what might pass as a rare smile. “Indeed. Though I daresay, quiet mornings are hard to come by when the season is in full swing.”

You let out a soft laugh, the sound almost swallowed by the music that swells across the room. “Quite so. I suppose we are all too busy chasing the next waltz or whispering about the latest Whistledown missive.”

At the mention of Whistledown, the Duke raises a brow, his expression a mixture of amusement and intrigue. “Ah, yes. Our ever-watchful chronicler. One wonders if she, too, finds time for quiet mornings.”

“I imagine she must,” you reply. “After all, how else would she craft such keen observations? A mind as sharp as hers surely requires moments of reflection.”

“Reflection, yes,” he murmurs, his gaze drifting briefly to the chandelier above, as if lost in thought. Then, returning his attention to you, he asks, “And what of you, Miss Itadori? Amidst the bustle, do you find moments to reflect?”

The question catches you off guard—not because it is intrusive, but because it is sincere. Few have ever asked you such things. You hesitate, then answer truthfully. “I try, Your Grace. Though I must admit, the season has left little room for it. It seems my every step is watched, my every word weighed. I sometimes wonder if I have forgotten how to simply be.��

His expression softens, and for a moment, you feel as though he truly sees you—not as the diamond of the season, not as the subject of idle gossip, but as a person. “That is a heavy burden to bear,” he says quietly. “Perhaps it is time you allowed yourself a reprieve. Even diamonds require care, lest they lose their brilliance.”

The words settle over you like a balm, and you find yourself holding his gaze longer than propriety might dictate. There is no judgment in his eyes, only understanding. It is both comforting and disarming. Before you can respond, a burst of laughter from a nearby group breaks the spell. You glance away, suddenly aware of your surroundings once more. “You are kind to say so, Your Grace,” you murmur, your voice steadier than you feel.

“I merely speak the truth, Miss Itadori,” he replies, bowing his head slightly.

A pause lingers between you, not uncomfortable but weighty with unspoken thoughts. Finally, he clears his throat, his tone lighter as he says, “Would you care to take a turn about the room? I find the air here grows rather stifling.”

You smile, grateful for the excuse to move. “I would like that very much.”

As he offers his arm, you place your hand lightly upon it, allowing him to guide you into the throng. The music swells once more, and though the room is as noisy and crowded as ever, the world feels a little quieter with Duke Nanami by your side. You can see it—early mornings with Nanami, enjoying gentle banter as he returned your thoughts without any ire, without snark or judgment. Quiet respect and gentle affection filling your days. A life free of chaos, where your worries dissipate into the steady calm of his demeanor. Perhaps this could be happiness. A steady, uncomplicated happiness.

But then you see him.

You abhor your traitorous heart for lurching ever so slightly at the sight of Gojo. He is standing near the edge of the ballroom, the golden light catching on his shock of silver hair as though it had been crafted to draw attention. His smile—always so bright, so effortless—makes the lady beside him laugh. She looks at him with a sultry, yet detached and amused expression, her fan flicking lazily as if to dismiss her own growing interest.

Your chest tightens. You know this scene well. It is one you have observed too many times, and yet you have never been able to steel yourself against the sting it brings. The way he leans ever so slightly toward the lady, as though she were the only person in the room. The way his laughter echoes, a sound full of mirth and mischief, as if he had no weight upon his shoulders.

You tell yourself it doesn’t matter. You tell yourself he doesn’t matter.

But then, as though he feels the weight of your gaze, Gojo turns his head. Your pulse quickens as his eyes widen, the usual lazy charm momentarily replaced by something sharper, something you can’t quite place.

First, his gaze lands on your face, his eyes sweeping over it with a quickness that feels like a jolt to your chest. Then, they drop lower, and you feel the heat of his scrutiny settle uncomfortably on your chest. A flicker of something crosses his expression—shock, perhaps, or something else entirely—but before you can decipher it, his gaze moves again, lower still, to where your hand rests upon the Duke’s arm.

It is subtle, the way his jaw tightens. The way his smile falters, only to return a moment later, forced and brittle. He shifts his weight, turning back toward the lady at his side, but not before you catch the way his fingers twitch at his side.

You force yourself to look away, to focus instead on Duke Nanami’s steady presence beside you. He has not noticed the exchange—or if he has, he is far too polite to show it.

And yet, the moment lingers. Gojo’s image burns in your mind like the fading glow of a candle, stubbornly refusing to extinguish. You loathe the way your heart betrays you, its treacherous rhythm quickened not by the Duke’s calm assurance, but by the mere sight of a man who has always been more trouble than he’s worth.

Nanami’s voice cuts through your tumultuous thoughts, soft and grounding. “You seem distracted, Miss Itadori,” he remarks, his gaze kind but curious.

You manage a small smile, tightening your grip on his arm as though it might anchor you. “Not at all, Your Grace. Perhaps just…overwhelmed by the crowd.”

He nods, accepting your answer without pressing further. “Understandable. These gatherings can be rather tiresome.”

“Yes,” you murmur, casting one last glance in Gojo’s direction before forcing your focus back to the Duke. “Tiresome indeed.”

But even as you walk beside Nanami, his presence a welcome reprieve from the chaos of the evening, you cannot help but feel the weight of Gojo’s lingering gaze, the memory of his startled expression etched into your thoughts like a brand. You cannot help but observe the situation. Tonight, you would be ending the night on Duke Nanami’s arm, and Gojo with another woman.

Is this not what you both wanted?

Today, it seems that the usual trio at White’s is only a duo. The blonde and raven head swirl their alcohol in their shimmering glasses while sharing a comfortable silence. That is, until one interrupts.

“How do we know we’re not simply toying with her?” The blonde man’s voice is steady but tinged with unease, his lips pressed into a thin line as he glances toward his companion. “It would not be honorable of me to pursue Miss Itadori under the pretense of riling Gojo, as you seem intent on doing—”

“Kento!” The raven-haired man—Lord Geto—throws his head back in laughter, the sound rich and unapologetically amused. He leans forward slightly, propping his elbow on the armrest, as his grin widens. “So confident in your lady-pleasing and romancing abilities, aren’t you?” Nanami’s frown deepens, but Geto merely waves him off, his laughter subsiding to a mischievous chuckle. “No, no—don’t worry. You misunderstand me. This isn’t about Miss Itadori falling for you, though,” he smirks, “I’m sure you’d manage well enough.” His tone is teasing, but his words lack any true malice.

“Then what is it about?” Nanami’s voice carries a note of exasperation, though he remains as composed as ever, swirling his drink in quiet contemplation.

Geto straightens, a glint of something sharper flashing in his dark eyes. “It’s about them. They’re idiots, Kento—idiots in love, the both of them. And it is our duty, as Satoru’s friends,” he pauses, meeting Nanami’s gaze with deliberate emphasis, “to help him realize what he truly desires.”

Nanami snorts, setting his glass down with a muted clink. “You just want to toy with them, to orchestrate the ton and its leading source of gossip.”

The corner of Geto’s mouth quirks upward in a sly smile, one that practically oozes self-satisfaction. “That, my dear friend,” he says, his voice low and conspiratorial, “I cannot deny.”

They lapse into silence once more, the kind that only years of friendship can create, as the firelight flickers and dances on the walls around them. Nanami tips his glass back, savoring the warmth of the whiskey as he contemplates Geto’s words—and the inevitable chaos that would follow in their wake.

prev. the house party | next. the lake

general masterlist | series masterlist

a/n HEYYY POOKIES IT'S HERE IT'S HERE WHAT DID WE THINK. also here is the bridgerton!gojo playlist if anyone is interested!!! i apologize it is 99% taylor swift but i will be adding more diverse songs

despite the miss itadori hate in recent times our girl is BOUNCING BACKK #mogged i cant wait for her to become even more of a diva in the next few chapterssss!!!! (not rn shes going through her sad girl era or wtvr)

suguru (left) and nanami (right) at this whole drama

also i hope none of you WHORESSSS simped for geto when we made eye contact with him (im looking at zaynesbathrobe anon and all those anons that are obsessed with bridgerton!geto). stay FOCUSED girls gays and theys

thank you for readinggggg. a hot new bombshell will be entering the villa in the next few chapters can we guess who he is??? hint he has huge tits and smelly balls

comment and reblog to let me know ur thots ;3

TAGLIST:

@ncitygreen @backstagepaige @serinatly100986 @nappingmoon @coochellati

@extremelyexh4usted @yoshisaurmuchakoopas @nixiepixee @generalstephkenobi @vernasce-blogs

@byhuenii @geniejunn @a-girl-with-thoughts @dazedin2d @chuuqxs

@megumiivs @anthastudios @arranacosmist @arishaxml @jingyuun

@undercooked-chaos-noodle @jaegersity @camzzn @bluelai @1sweetheart1

@hyori2 @babyblue0t7 @iwanttoberich420 @rosso-seta @ladytamayolover

@kalulakunundrum @r0ckst4rjk @mo0sin @angelina7890 @jaeminaur

@yamiyas @cherry-blossoms-in-red @r3inae @lagataprrr @sasfransisco

@fortunatelyfurrygiver @aurora-tiny @gojonegs @luna-v-roiya @xxemmarldxx

@soobssedwithyourex @manyno @samkysnks @stefnarda @bbqsauceonmytitties2

[lale-txt]

❦ IDLE HANDS (Kuroo x f!reader)

Shameless, you think. Unsure if you mean him or yourself when you narrow the distance between you two.

a/n: little something for @husbandograveyard ♡ writing this made me a Kuroo girlie. i get it now. i really, REALLY do. also when i started writing this i was aiming for 1k or so idk what possessed me but here we are. maybe listening to bouncy while writing this wasn't the best idea (lie)

tags: f!reader, mild enemies to lovers, fluff, mutual pining, shameless flirting, food mention, bit of a slow burn, they're so in love your honor

wc: 3.7k

Kuroo Tetsuro is a heartthrob.

With his stupid messy hair and his stupid rolled up sleeves, showing off his stupid toned arms while he’s mumbling stupid sweet things to your favorite cat that’s currently coiling underneath his stupid big hand, getting the best belly rubs of her life from the looks of it. 

It’s not like you’re jealous or something, no; it’s just that you’ve been coming to this cat café for a year now and you thought you and the calico shared a special bond. Maru, who is just as her name implies, very round and very soft, has been sitting and purring by your side while you spend hours typing page after page of your next book. She’d also stretch out all over your laptop and remind you to take a break when you’ve been going at it for hours. Yes, it took you some bribery to win her heart but over the past months she really warmed up to you. Wow, she usually isn’t this friendly with people, you remember the café owner say once. 

What a blatant lie. 

Your peace has been disturbed. A slight shift in the universe when he showed up for the first time merely a week ago. It was easy to remember him, because he was sitting in your spot with your favorite cat purring in his lap, looking like he didn’t have a single worry in the world except maybe that untamed hair of his (and even this was kind of charming, you had to admit begrudgingly).

Sharing usually wasn’t a big deal for you–until it was. You come to this cat café almost every day, feeling much more inspired to write here than in the shoebox you call your apartment at the other end of town. Your landlady doesn’t allow pets, so this place has been a lifeline in the tiring times of deadlines and rejected book deals. At the end of the day there was always a cat rubbing against your legs, reminding you that not everything was bad and that no matter how severe things got, there was always a kitty waiting to be picked up.

You hold this place very dear to your heart, a secret gem you felt a need to protect. It is hidden away in a side street, far from the hectic buzz of the city. The interior is cozy, it isn’t too big and the owner, an elderly lady with candy cotton hair and knuckle tattoos, lives upstairs and treats the place like her second living room with all six of her cats. There’s never too many other guests around and in the corner seat by the window you can unravel your thoughts quietly. It feels homey, something you haven’t felt in a long time.

But now there is an intruder in a business suit and you didn’t really know how to deal with that new found irritation.

“That’s my spot.”

Balancing your laptop, notebook, a slice of carrot cake and a hot drink in one hand, all manners aside, you point at the stranger with your other. In your right mind you know it is rude to point at people, but to be fair he kinda started it by sitting where you rightfully belong. His eyes, a certain gleam in them, follow your movement down to the cat curled up on top of his thighs. With the amount of cat hair sticking to his suit pants you could only pray for him that he had a lint roller somewhere at his desk. 

He cocks his head to the side, giving you a boyish smirk that maybe would make your heart skip a beat if it wasn’t for his audacity. 

“Usually I ask someone’s name first and take them on a few dates before I let them sit in my lap, but I guess I can make an exception,” he replies and you never in your life before wanted to strangle someone so badly. If that wasn’t already worse enough, the tuxedo cat lifts its small head and slowly blinks at you before jumping down from his lap, as if it was trying to make space for you. My bad, didn’t know this seat was taken. Here, girl, you have it.

For once in your life you’re too stunned to speak. You watch the stranger check his watch and let out an almost inaudible sigh before he grabs his backpack (one that looks like he has had it since high school) and stands up to full height. He’s in your space now and you have to crank your neck slightly to meet his eyes. Mentally you’re adding stupidly tall to your list of things you hate about him. 

“Gotta get back to work. I’ll see you tomorrow.” 

True to his words he is there the next day, too. This time around you managed to secure your spot by the window, three cats idly sleeping next to you on. You’ve been stuck on a paragraph for almost an hour now when the doorbell chimes and his figure appears at the counter. The cats look up with interest but you force yourself not to pay any attention to him, which is hard when his order is literally “I’ll have whatever she is having”, followed by a nod in your direction and this cheeky smile again. 

This damn smile.

“You didn’t strike me as a dirty chai drinker,” you deadpan when he takes a seat at the table next to yours. The café is almost empty around this time of the day, which is no surprise since most of the workers in this district are having a hearty meal for lunch and not whatever sweet delicacies this place is offering. 

He peels himself out of his suit jacket and rolls up the sleeves of his shirt. The same cat as yesterday jumps into his lap immediately after he sits down, giving you a look of “if you don’t want him, I’ll take him” and you almost roll your eyes. Kuroo (you learn his name from the ID he is wearing around his neck) seems to notice and he grins at you. 

“Then what did I strike you as?” he asks, his chin resting in one hand while his other finds the soft fur of the kitty, stroking it gently. 

You look him up and down, now taking your time while stretching out the silence between you two. Only the purring of the cats and the soft music in the background could be heard. At first glance he seems like your typical office worker in the three piece suit who spends his time filling out spreadsheets and drinking cheap vending-machine coffee from the conbini next door. Everything a little rumpled, himself included, someone so used to tristesse he doesn’t even notice it anymore. 

Only at second glance do you notice the small wrinkles around his eyes, not from age but from laughter. The dimples when he smiles down at the tuxedo cat in his lap, now showing off its belly. His calloused hands, atypical for an office worker, more like you’d see them at craftsmen or athletes. Something in his eyes that radiates warmth and an air of calm confidence. None of it is unpleasant.

“If I had to guess, maybe three espresso with a pump of caramel and honey,” you say, more to yourself than to him. Kuroo looks at you in surprise before barking out a laugh. You hate how you like the sound of it.

It’s the beginning of spring and you award Kuroo Tetsuro the title of the greatest nuisance you’ve ever met.

In the midst of summer, you pity him. 

“I’m just saying that maybe you radiate a natural fragrance of catnip,” you say as you stir your iced oat milk latte. Kuroo got you that one when he popped in during his lunch break and saw that your glass must have been empty for a while. By that time you were hunched over your laptop, trying to decipher your notes from last night. You had saved him a seat at your table, but if he asked you, you’d say you just happened to put all your belongings on one chair and nothing more.

The man is swarmed by the cats of the café. They didn’t even bother to hide who their favorite is, rubbing around his legs, sitting pressed to his side or just straight up climbing his shoulders. It would’ve been enviable if he wasn’t already sweating from wearing a suit in the humid heat of the summer month alone. 

“Can you get at least one or two off me?” he asks and his tone is close to pleading. It makes you laugh as you stretch out in your light sundress, giving him a look as if you’re contemplating his question. 

“I could, but it’s really much funnier seeing you struggle like that. Serves you well,” you chime and pull out your phone, snapping a photo of this moment. You hold it up for him to see, a kitty phone charm dangling from it (they just happened to come in a pack of two and you gifted him one out of generosity, nothing more). He snatches it from your hands and makes a face.

“So you like seeing me suffer, is that how it is?” he snarls at you, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. His slender fingers fly over the screen of your phone and you let out a small gasp.

“Don’t you dare delete it,” you huff and grab the orange tabby mercifully off his shoulders so you can lean over him better. 

“Relax. I’m only saving my contact info since you never bothered asking me for it despite being my constant for the past three months.”  

There was this cheeky smile again. You blame the flutter of your heart on the caffeine and not the way his pupils are dilating when he gazes at you. 

He loosens his tie and unbuttons his shirt slightly, just enough to reveal a sliver of skin. Suddenly you’re very aware of how close you’re leaning over at him. Kuroo gives you a little glance from the corner of his eyes and taps the now revealed side of his neck. 

“What do you say? Do I really smell like catnip?” 

Shameless, you think. Unsure if you mean him or yourself when you narrow the distance between you two. You can feel the heat radiating off him and for a brief moment you wonder what it would feel like to press open mouth kisses on his skin. Your eyes flutter shut as you engrave this moment into your heart. 

“Definitely irresistible,” you murmur once you pull back–reluctantly, as if a hidden part of you ached to be in his proximity, in the inside of his soul.  

By autumn you miss him on the days when he was gone. 

He traveled quite a lot. You didn’t know one would need to be on the road so much for something as simple as volleyball (you can imagine the look he’d give you over this). But he was passionate about it and that’s also something you liked about him. The way he talks about the sport holds so much love and you wonder what it would feel like to be loved by a man like Kuroo Tetsuro.

Gentle, you think. Honest. Treasured.

A tap against the window pulls you out of your thoughts and when you look up, you're met with a pair of honey glazed eyes. Whatever he sees when he looks at you, it’s making him grin from ear to ear before he hurries towards the entry door, eager to meet you again.

Kuroo is holding up a bag, some brand of sweets from Hokkaido he’s been texting you about, but you didn’t think he’d actually go so far and bring you some. He sounds breathless when he speaks, as if he rushed all the way to get here and when he keeps on rambling, you order him and yourself a hot matcha boba and a chocolate mousse to share. 

The cats are happy to see him back too, and you laugh when you help him take his scarf off before some kitty claws can tangle up in it. It was a precious gift after all, one you knitted for him, under the feeble excuse of “keeping my hands busy helps me come up with ideas for my writing process”. It makes you happy to see him wearing it, and the color makes you feel as if you took the red string of fate connecting you two and turned it into something to help him stay warm.

You think a lot about kissing him now. Sometimes your hands would brush against each other on the table, neither of you pulling away. He spends his lunch breaks with you and comes to pick you up from the café in the evening, walking you to your station. The two of you still bicker at each other, but underneath lies a certain kind of softness, one that feels too fickle to put it into words just yet but also too bright to ignore. The leaves of the trees are falling and so are you. 

With winter comes snow and the quiet realization that maybe, just maybe, it’s unadulterated love. 

You spend a lot of time huddled together in the corner by the window now. He looks over your shoulder when you type on your laptop, one arm resting idly on the back of your chair, fingertips brushing against your spine sometimes. You don’t think he even notices when he lets them run up and down there. Often you forget which cups on the table belong to who but it doesn’t matter since you order the same things anyway and because this could count as an indirect kiss, right? 

On some days he’d just close his eyes and laze next to you, with his head resting on his folded arms on the table and your fingers idly weaving through his hair, before he had to hurry back to work. On others he would tell you excitedly about a special match he was organizing and you can hear the pure joy in his voice. It’s contagious.You get them now, the cats. How drawn they are to him, like chasing sunbeams. 

He spells L-O-V-E on your back with his fingertips and something inside of you softens. 

Then there’s snow, more snow than you’ve ever seen in your entire life, and Kuroo comes to pick you up early, the tip of his ears bright red and his cold hands seeking yours to warm them up. 

“I’m really sorry but I’m closing the shop early today,” the café owner apologizes and puts a box of cinnamon rolls for you on your table. “You two kittens better hurry and get home, too. On the radio they said they’re gonna shut everything down soon.”

It can’t be that bad, you think. But when Kuroo and you stand in front of the closed station, it dawns on you that maybe you’ve underestimated the amount of snow a teeny tiny bit. You huddle a little closer to him for warmth and to shield yourself against the snow as you pull out your phone. 

“If there’s no more trains running, I better start looking for a place to stay. With some luck there’s still a few vacant rooms in the hotels nearby…”

Kuroo puts a hand over your screen and gives you a stern look when you open our mouth to protest. 

“You can crash at my place for the night. I live close by," he mutters and it doesn’t really leave room to decline his offer. Maybe it’s not really an offer to begin with; more of a silent pleading to stay. Not just for the duration of the snowstorm, but forever maybe. 

His place is just like you imagined it would be like. Not overly spacious but it feels like a home in every corner. There’s photos on the wall, back from when he was a kid to his high school and college years, and pinned with a magnet to the fridge is also a polaroid he took of you back in summer. In it you’re laughing about something silly he said and you’re holding up two cats at once, one strap of your sundress almost slipping down your shoulder. You still remember how he fixed it for you because you didn’t have a hand free and how his fingers lingered for longer than necessary. 

You hope one day he won’t pull his hand away anymore.

The apartment is certainly not messy but you can see he lives in this place, with some papers scattered across the coffee table and the unmade bed and the slightly concerning stock of buldak noodles in the kitchen shelves (in which you peeked out of curiosity into while he was in the shower). You imagine yourself living here, too. Maybe you’d get a cat on your own and plants for the balcony once this winter was over. 

The laundry machine rumbles quietly in the background after you step out of the bathroom, too. It wasn’t just the steamy shower that had your cheeks feel hot, it was also his clothes that he put out for you, with his scent lingering on them and engulfing you softly. Kuroo appears with two cups from the kitchen and pauses when he sees you, his mouth opening and closing again as his eyes flicker over your form. He doesn’t want to stare but also he does want to stare, wants to drink you in and memorize every detail of this moment. 

You can see his Adam's apple bop slightly when he swallows and nods over to the couch, and it’s at this moment that you know you’re not leaving this apartment again before every inch of your skin has been plastered in kisses. 

“It’s not as good as the one’s at the café but I tried my best for my special guest,” he laughs quietly when he hands you your cup, his fingers brushing against yours. The hot chocolate looks impossibly sweet, with whipped cream and sprinkles on top (they’re not ordinary sprinkles, you realize, but tiny cat shaped ones), and the first sip would’ve been enough to send you in some higher spheres if you weren’t in a state of bliss due to his proximity already. You put the cups to cool down on the coffee table and sink into the couch. 

Outside the snow is falling relentlessly, muffling the sounds of the outside world and opening up a new one, right here in these four walls.

In his arms. 

Without realizing you both settled down in your now familiar positions, only closer this time. Huddled next to each other, with one of his arms around your shoulder drawing you nearer to him. It feels natural, the way your head comes to rest against his shoulder and your legs thrown over his lap, the two of you sharing a blanket. 

He’s warm. Kuroo is so warm. 

And when he presses a fleeting kiss on top of your head it’s like everything is falling in place; the months of pining and yearning and unspoken desire. In the midst of a snowstorm both of your hearts are set ablaze, with a tenderness you haven’t experienced in this lifetime before. You sure hope he will find you in the next and the one after that as well because you never want to miss his embrace ever again. 

“That’s my spot,” you murmur and Kuroo laughs, the kind with his head tilted back and his chest rumbling. His grip around you tightens and he pulls you impossibly closer, till you’re really in his lap now, your head tucked under his chin. 

“Damn right it is.” 

You can feel his heart drum, or maybe it’s your own that’s doing somersaults–either way, it’s the same rhythm, a steady thrumming and rattling, begging to be felt. Time seems to freeze at this moment and you’re both quiet. Cat’s got your tongue. Kuroo has both arms around you now, and one of his hands settles on your waist, at the part where your sweatshirt is bunched up a little. His thumb draws small patterns against your bare skin, his touch featherlight and gentle.

You lift your head, only enough so you can catch his gaze. For the first time in your life you understand what it means to have your heart in your throat, because he takes your breath away with a simple glance. His other hand comes to rest against your cheek, cupping your face softly while his grip around your waist tightens a fraction.

“Stop looking at me like that,” he mutters and you can see his sharp teeth flash in the corner of your eyes when he laughs. 

“Like what?” “You know what.” “I think I’ll need to have it spelled out for me.”

He laughs again and this time he leans in closer till his breath is fanning over your skin and everything is happening all at once. Honey and caramel eyes asking you to drown in them. The heat of his body mingling with yours. Your fingers playing with the shaved part of hair in the back of his neck, sending small shivers down his spine.

“Oh, I’ll spell it out for you alright.”

Kuroo kisses you with all the gentleness of the world. It feels as natural as if he had done this countless times before, as if he had kissed you in every life prior to that. He hums into the kiss and smiles when your lips part for him so willingly, and then he deepens the kiss in a way that makes you forget your name for a heartbeat or two. 

Sweet, you think. Soft and saccharine. And warm. So warm. The same what loving Kuroo feels like.

[lndsismaeverything]

Asking lnds men help to pick a nail design

A/n : was going to get my nails done next week so...(ㅅ˙³˙)♡ though of what would the lnds men choose?

Xavier :

Both of you where on the couch you where looking for some nails insp but couldn't find any . So you turned to your boyfriend and ask him for some help

" you want me to pick a nail design for you?"

He gladly wants to help but is afraid if it doesn't match your style or you don't like it

Since he doesn't know these kind of stuff , but it can't be hard right? It's just going to be looking at pictures and finding the best one out of all of them for you

He spends about a whole hour looking for a design on Pinterest until he found the perfect one

Something that's really suits you and is cute too

" I choose this one " he showed you , you end up loving it and got them done the next day

You snowed them to him

" these look better on you in person "

Zayne :

Even though zayne is really busy, when you are about to ask him but stop mid way because you don't want to bother him with something this so stupid . He has way more important things to then picking out your nails

You decided you'll just pick something it's not that big of the deal right?

" give it to me " zayne said asking for the tablet your holding. He noticed you been scrolling on that app for the past hour. And noticed how your about to asking him but stop mid way

" I don't mind I can take a small break for these files and documents "

After a few minutes he gives you the tablet back , you looked at the picture he choose for you

" it's simple but still elegant... It would look every good on you "

Rafayel :

Rafayel would love helping you pick out some nails design for you

But he would like enjoying designing one for you better

" you want me to pick a nail design for you?"

" yes"

" I have a way better idea. How about I despite one for you? One that stands out from the rest of them. "

He quickly grabs his sketch book and some colored pencils and design your nails

He ended up finishing within a day... Yea a day because he was going all out

After he showed you the sketch, he insisted on you bring him with you to the nail salon. Because he wants to make sure they get the colors correctly

It took the nail artist a full 5 hours on doing your nails because of your boyfriend nagging about how it's the wrong color and how the shape isn't right

" no that's the wrong shade"

" hold on , it isn't straight "

You apologize sincerely to the nail artist and swear you wouldn't bring him again. Or you let him do your nails at home

But you ended up loving them since they have personal touches that reminds you of him

Sylus :

When you first ask sylus to help you out , he didn't really get them, but decided to help you pick a design

" sure sweetie, I don't get why you get them thought. I guess kitten like to get her claws well maintained "

Sylus took in the task every seriously, asking you question if you like pastels, charms, gems etc

You said anything is fine " as long as you pick them "

It doesn't take long for him to pick a design for you

" here kitten, this one would look nice "

After you get them done and showed your nails to sylus. He ended up getting why you get your nails done.

It's because it's pretty and it really suit you . Or he just liked it because he picked it out for you .

Now he's going to pick every nails design for you when you want to get your nails done

[cyberrose2001]

HUMAN PET AU <3

Ratchet finally comes home from working all day at the med bay, the poor medic is tired as hell and just wants to relax in the comfort of his own berth. Fortunately enough, ratchet owns an exotic pet. A human he has grown fond of. They are fully trained and even have their own collar (with the message “Please return to Ratchet if lost” written on it), they have also learned how to help Ratchet de-stress by letting him use their hole as his personal flesh light <3 His happy little human loves becoming his cum dump to help him get his frustrations out, such a helpful little pet <33

any continuity of ratchet is fine (pick ur fav!), afab but gender neutral reader please and thank you moni 🙏❤️‍🩹

A Sight For Sore Optics - Human Pet AU

IDW/MTMTE Ratchet x human! afab! gn!Reader

Hi Gem! Thank you so much for your request, I was literally foaming at the mouth ready to write this. To make this more anatomically possible, Ratchet's spike transforms to a more "safer" size. So I hope this is good please be good (I haven't finished reading mtmte yet so forgive me). Also if I have missed any tags please let me know!

Warnings: Xenophilia, Size Kink, Collaring, Oral (both receiving and giving), Masturbation, Praise Kink, Cum Dumping, Mild Dubious Consent (?)

Word Count: 2.3k

18+ ONLY MINORS DNI

Another day, another few thousand miles of endless space, another few sickly bots. Additionally, a few unkempt humans requiring attention due to poor conditions from their previous owners. With the new organic additions to the Lost Light at the captain's approval, Ratchet had found himself biting off more than he could chew, looking after bots and humans. Oh, how he wished he took up an organic health course or something other than primarily relying on Brainstorm's fervent research on the tiny creatures. Between juggling it all, Ratchet was unsure how much more his threadbare servos could take. Still, there was one thing the old medic was unmistakable about. He was tired.

One good thing, he must admit, is that he gets to return to you. His own human pet, a personal 'Thank you' gift on behalf of the entire crew for his selflessness and hard work, provided with you a basket with fundamental necessities. But the basket had long since been used up, and he had transformed it into a makeshift cot for you. It'll do for now, he had thought.

He was initially still trying to figure out what to think of you. Apart from very rudimentary health checkups and nutritional foods, there wasn't much that Ratchet could provide for you. There's not many enriching activities for such a tiny human like yourself. Until that is, he discovered something quite unusual that had been exhibited in almost every human adopted by the crew so far.

You have an insatiable libido.

Ratchet was unsure, if not downright nervous if other owners were to discover how incredibly beneficial humans could be. Whether or not they had already learned was an entirely different story. It wouldn't surprise Ratchet if that was the very reason why human pets were approved, though it seems shocking. It all seemed so innocent enough, adopting humans for the cuteness factor for the mechs on board. But as with most things, there's always more than just the surface level of what the optic sees. And Ratchet was already way too far below the surface.

Punching in the code for his hab suite, Ratchet waits eagerly for the door to open with twitching digits. He steps inside, tossing whatever work essentials he has on hand on the first bench he sees. He'll worry about reorganising later. Right now, he needs some pet therapy and a well-overdue overload. The dull ache behind his panels only gets stronger as his pedes carry him to his berthroom to you, curled up on his berth. It looked as if you neglected your rudimentary cot, choosing to sleep on his berth instead. The medic can't help the softened expression as he melts at the sight. Of all the things he didn't think he deserved, he never once expected it to be such an adorable little thing like you.

He lets his pedes wander over to you, like countless times before, careful and delicate. He always told himself that this 'fling' he had with you was only temporary and that it was purely for his curiosity, but he tends to find himself aching for you repeatedly. He can't help how his racing neurocircuits seem to fizzle out and calm down when he lies with you.

A roughened servo brushes over your hair to slowly stir you. It looked like you had been napping for some time now, which he believes is a good thing. Brainstorm did say that humans tend to sleep better in environments they consider comfortable. The gentle brushing causes you to stir and lift your head to greet him, though in a language yet to be deciphered. It's a pleasant greeting, and Ratchet can tell they're happy to see him. Something along the lines of 'I missed you,' he'd like to think.

"Hey, squishy. I missed you too," Ratchet smiles warmly. He brushes the hair away from your neck to reveal a collar, "You haven't ripped it off yet. Seems like you like it, hm?"

A slight, sleepy nod in confirmation, you've grasped at what he said. Ratchets' digits trail down to the collar, a small silver plate that reads 'Please Return to Ratchet If Lost - HabSuite ###" engraved in Cybertronian. Not that you tend to wander off, but more or less a just in case. Plus, he gets a thrill seeing his name attached to you. He thumbs it gently, admiring his handy work.

"I'm glad you do. It took me quite some time to make," Ratchet tugs at it softly, beckoning you to come closer. He watches you climb onto his lap, "Such tiny adornments are complex to create, 'specially with hands like mine." A servo cups your back, his thumb moving to play with your soft chest. He shivers when he hears a tiny whimper from you, and you seem eager to play with him already.

"I've had a busy day," A mechanical noise of shifting gears as his spike slides out of its housing, "I think you know what I need." It's well and truly bigger than you, much bigger than your tiny body could ever take. But the way your eyes light up in excitement assures Ratchet that you are more than pleased, already desperately taking off your quirky frame coverings. He eyes off your cute organic valve, notices how dripping wet it is, and staves off a moan.

"C'mere for a second," Ratchet scoops you into his servo to bring you closer to his face. He gets a whiff of your arousal, so earthy and addicting. The more you spread your thighs for him, the more he can smell. He brings you to his intake and licks one hearty stripe up your folds.

Oh yes, he thinks. Better than energon. Better than any high grade to ever pass his dermas, like a warm drink that soothes and revitalises his senses. It thickens on his glossa, groaning at the taste as he swirls it around your little node. He watches intently as you squeal in delight, your thighs trembling around his cheeks and how your little face contorts into one of pleasure. Well, he had always presumed it was in pleasure; you've never exactly shied away from his glossa. He hums when you feel him grinding, desperate little ruts chasing the vibrations.

Ratchet licks one last time at your slick, pulling away to observe. Oral lubricants coat your valve thickly, the sensitive area reddened from his torment. His optics wander up; your soft skin is already flushed and glistening with sweat. He wonders how close you were to overloading; it wouldn't have taken much longer if he had kept going. But his spike grows restless, throbbing against his abdominal plating, begging to be touched by much softer palms than his own.

"Do you want my spike? Hm?" Ratchet teases, "My big spike?" He knows you can't fully understand him, but he can't help but vocalise his salacious fantasy. Holding onto you carefully, he lounges back onto the berth. He bites his bottom derma and lowers you to his lap, showing you his engorged spike, "Go on then, have at it. I'll frag your little brains out soon."

With an encouraging nudge from Ratchet, you straddle the shaft. To anyone else, it looks ridiculous. A tiny human desperately attempting to wrap their arms around a spike that's two times taller than they are. But to any depraved fleshy fragger, it's a sight to behold. Ratchet once thought of snapping a picture to potentially maybe sell it to the highest bidder for those who crave the feeling of such a soft body grinding on them, for he is sure there's a market out there somewhere, probably more than half of the crew onboard. Still, the shame of it all prevents him. There's an image to uphold being the resident medic.

Besides, he'd much prefer to keep you and that curious tongue all for himself.

He feels your little licks along him, a tiny tongue wiggling through the grooves and smooth surface, reaching crevices with hidden nodes that cause his pedes to curl. Soft ruts of your hips press your soaked valve right up against him. He knows what you want. The medic brings a servo to grip around his spike with you squished between, only tight enough to keep you in place as he begins self-servicing himself. He hears you letting out a surprised gasp, then a muffled moan, feeling your grip tighten around him.

"Yeah? You like that, squishy?" Ratchet moans, moving his servo slightly faster, "I bet you-nghh do. You look so cute like that. So tiny pressed against my spike."

Only a taste of your warmth is given through your body, like the little tease you are. Ratchet feels the perspiration dripping off you, likely due to the rise of his internal temperature and the energon being solely diverted to his array. It makes for a mediocre yet acceptable lubrication. He could spike you with it alone, but Ratchet prefers to use alternate practices in the interest of your health. Primus knows how careless other Cybertronians can be with their pets.

The medic is becoming increasingly aware of his overload and yours by the looks of things, your little optics squeezed shut, and your limbs clamped tight around his girth. He consciously decides to stop before you reach it. The idea of you squirming on his spike played on his processor a bit too well. He hears your soft whine at the loss of friction, which Ratchet can't help but chuckle at.

"I know, I know. I'm so mean, aren't I? Hold on, squishy." Ratchet lets you rest against his palm while his weeping spike whirs and clunks inwards to a much more manageable size for a human. His spike may be smaller, but there's not much difference in sensation. Thank Primus for the minicon-compatability modes, "You alright?"

A small squeak from you, yes. The medic watches intently as you waste no time climbing on, guided by his careful servo. You press your little valve against the tip, hissing as it barely slips through. Ratchet digs his pedes into the berth at the intense sensation, gritting his dentae as you bottom out. The feeling is incomparable to anything else; it's uniquely organic, warm, and so, so much softer than mesh.

He then wraps his entire servo around you, effectively turning you into one perfect spike sleeve only for him. Perfectly snug inside you, his grip clenches and unclenches around your torso before gently unsheathing himself from you again.

Ratchet is always careful when he uses you in this manner, ensuring his grip isn't too tight. He pushes you back down again, and he feels you melt into his servo. He hears your little whimpers and cries for him, to go faster, he believes. He learned a long ago that he doesn't need to understand your verbal mumbles when your fleshy hips try to hastefully force yourself down onto him, only halted by his own hand. His grip ever so tightens and gives in to your desperation, or more or less his own.

"You're so good for me, squishy. Hah- Lettin' me use your little valve like a toy." Ratchet mewls, his helm lolling off to the side as his optics flick between your face and the way his spike disappears inside you, "Such a helpful little pet you are."

He feels your velvet walls clamp down on him with each and every praise he gives, your little arms draped over the top of his thumb, clinging on for dear life. Every now and then, he massages your breasts pressed up against it, eliciting more dirty moans from you. Such softness that he can't help but take advantage of.

"So- ngh- tight," Ratchet vents heavily, "Primus, you've ruined me for my own race."

He felt a twinge of shame hearing himself; it was as if he had entirely let himself go. But he knows he can no longer turn back, not when you're the best little creature to ever stumble into his life. Despite him having you wrapped around his digits, it is indeed him wrapped around yours. The relief you bring to him after every gruelling shift, after every stressful day upon this damned ship, had him truly addicted.

And with an internal affirmation of decadence and with your soft little valve clenching and pulsing around his spike, he's sent right over the edge.

"Frag yes, sweetspark!-" He glitches out, pressing you down on his thick shaft as far as your soft little body can tolerate. His energon pulses deeply and shocks his entire body with an overload, shooting gush after gush of transfluids into you. His frame lurches forward, his hips driving into the berth as he milks his throbbing spike, his servo driving it deeper into you in a lust-filled daze. Your whines and cries only spur him on more, and he doesn't stop until you're shaking like a leaf in his hold.

It takes only a few more moments for a spent Ratchet to collapse back with you still in his grip, albeit slumped against his thumb. You're panting hard, and he can only just feel your tiny heart pounding against him. You must have had your own overload by the looks of it if the bliss-filled smile on your soft lips is anything to go by. His optics linger down to your soft, distended stomach and the dripping mess that splatters across your thighs and onto his pelvic plating. Now that truly is a sight for sore optics, he thinks to himself.

Ratchet huffs, bringing his other servo to pat the top of your head, "Now there's my happy little human, huh?" He smiles warmly when he feels you leaning into his touch, "How 'bout I fill you up some more?"

If this was what it took for the old medic to de-stress and relax, then so be it. If he were to be exposed to the rest of the crew, then may he join the rest of them. In secret, for now, he will proudly declare himself a lover of organic flesh.

[annewithaneofthegreengable]

Prinzessin

My masterlist

You lay back on the deck, closing your eyes as the warm sunlight bathed your skin. The gentle rocking of the boat coupled with the sound of the waves was incredibly soothing, and you felt a sense of tranquility wash over you. You took a deep breath, inhaling the salty air and feeling the tension in your body gradually dissolve. Despite the initial annoyance of waking up before Toto, you found a strange sense of peace in being alone with your thoughts, the vast expanse of the ocean acting as a natural salve for your irritation. As you continued to recline on the deck, basking in the sun, you couldn't help but marvel at the stunning beauty of your surroundings. The clear blue sky was dotted with wispy clouds, and the ocean gleamed like a sparkling gem in the sunlight. The boat rocked ever so gently, creating a gentle lulling motion that was both calming and invigorating.

The last few days spent with Toto were nothing less than perfection. When he first brought up the idea of taking you away to celebrate your recent graduate school graduation, you were completely taken back. Toto’s lifestyle and the way he chose to spoil you was something you were still acclimating to. A romantic dinner and a movie? Sure - but to be whisked away on a yacht to the middle of nowhere was something else completely. However, you couldn’t deny that it was nice to finally have some alone time together.

Between the stress of the last few weeks of classes and the Mercedes’ team finally winning two races out of the three during the triple-header, the two of you had barely been able to see each other. After some convincing, you finally agreed to a getaway with Toto for the weekend and you didn’t regret it for a second. Wining and dining you, he had spent the last few days making sure you felt like a princess. Watching the sunset together, eating 5 star meals, taking a swim in the ocean - everything felt like it was straight out of a dream. That’s not including the white hot, passionate sex that filled every other moment of your trip. Toto knew how you treat you but he knew how to treat your body even better.

Suddenly, the sound of footsteps approaching made your eyes flutter open, and you turned your head to see Toto's tall figure making his way towards you. You couldn’t help but giggle at his scrunched up face and wild bed head but as your eyes trailed down his torso you took your bottom lip between your teeth. He wore a turquoise pair of swim trunks and a white button up shirt that was open in the front, exposing his chiseled torso to you.

Toto's face broke into a small smile as he spotted you lying on the deck, a relaxed expression on your features. He made his way over, settling down next to you.

"You're up early," he commented, his voice laced with a hint of surprise. "Normally, I'm the morning person in the relationship." Toto’s voice was low, gravely, and made you clench your thighs together.

“You looked peaceful. I didn’t wanna bother you.” You sat up completely, pushing your sunglasses up to sit on top of your head.

You gave him a playful smirk, still feeling a bit cheeky from your previous annoyance. "Well, even early birds need their beauty sleep, Toto," you retorted, stretching lazily like a cat in the sun.

Toto chuckled, running a hand through his tousled hair. "True," he agreed, his eyes studying you for a moment. "Although, I have to admit, I was enjoying having the bed to myself for once."

You let out a small laugh, amused by his comment. "Oh, don't pretend you don't enjoy my nocturnal disturbances," you teased, giving him a nudge with your shoulder.

Toto feigned a look of mock offense. “Disturbances, huh?” he said, raising an eyebrow. “Is that what we’re calling your relentless bed stealing habits now?”

You let out a mock sniff of disdain. "You're just jealous that my sleeping habits are way more efficient. While you're stuck in one position, I'm maximizing the available bed space," you teased, enjoying the banter.

Toto shook his head in amusement. "Maximizing bed space, huh? More like making it impossible for anyone to get a decent night's sleep."

“You didn’t complain much last night when I kept you up for some rather adult activities” you smirked and said. 

Toto's cheeks flushed slightly at your comment, the memory of the previous night's activities clearly not far from his mind. He cleared his throat, but a small smile tugged at the corners of his mouth.

"Well, I suppose there are some benefits to your... 'bed-stealing habits,'" he conceded, his tone slightly gravelly. 

As Toto looked over to you, the sun glinted off your neck at just the right time, exposing to him that you were wearing the diamond necklace he had gotten you. A devilish grin spread across his face as he squatted down next to you and cupped your neck in his large hand, thumb tracing over the chain of the necklace.

“Here I thought you didn’t like this necklace.” Toto stated, eyes watching as his thumb moved back and forth over the crease of your neck, sending a shiver down your spine that made him grin even more.

“I never said I didn’t like it.” Your voice was soft, barely above a whisper. The smell of his cologne clogging up your senses, making it feel as though your head was in a cloud. “Jus’ said it was too much.”

Toto's smile grew wider as he continued to toy with the necklace around your neck, noticing the effect it was having on you. He leaned in closer, his breath ghosting over your skin.

"Ah, so you do like it, hmmm?" he teased, enjoying how his touch was making you shiver. "You're just too stubborn to admit it, Prinzessin."

You let out a breathless laugh, trying to maintain your composure despite the warmth of his touch and the intoxicating scent of his cologne. "Maybe I just don't want to stroke your ego even more," you countered, giving him a mock glare.

“You can always stroke something else of mine.” He said while looking directly into your eyes, those hazel brown eyes slowly lured you into the wood or somewhere so magically. The way Toto looked at you had always made your heart skip a beat. You didn’t know it was possible for someone to have so much love and adoration in their eyes when they looked at someone. Toto always told you that you were his greatest gift in life and he made it his mission to ensure you felt that way. Although the attention, the love, the gifts, proved to be too much at times, there wasn’t anything you wouldn’t do to get that look from him for the rest of your life.

“And you’re wearing my favorite…” A single finger ran down the strap of your swimsuit top, the coldness of the finger was a stark contrast from how warm your body felt from the sun.

“Not like I had a choice. You ripped the other one yesterday.” You teased.

Toto grinned at the memory of yesterday’s escapade. The man was lucky he was rich because he had a bad habit of ripping your clothes when they didn’t come off quickly enough for his liking.

“I’ll buy you another one.” Toto quipped.

Before you had a chance to respond, he pressed his lips to yours. Almost immediately, his tongue pressed against your lips, begging for access. You could taste mint toothpaste as he swirled his tongue around yours. You sighed into the kiss, feeling your joints buckle as they typically did whenever Toto kissed you. Every kiss you shared was filled with intensity, passion, desire, and made you feel as though you were floating on air. Instead of relying on your arms to keep you upright, you wrapped your arms around his neck and tangled your hands in his messy hair. Toto grinned, going down on one knee to make sure neither of you toppled to the ground. You felt your bottom lip become trapped between his teeth as he pulled away lightly, letting it go at the end.

“I want you to lay back. Can you do that for me, Liebe?” Toto cooed.

This time it was your turn to bite your bottom lip as you nodded, obediently laying back against the deck while you kept your eyes locked to his. As soon as you settled into position, Toto’s body was over yours and you couldn’t help but run your hands along his torso.

“I love seeing you underneath me.” Toto whispered, peppering kisses along your jaw line and tracing them down the column of your throat.

As Toto's lips continue their journey down your throat, sending shivers down your spine, you can't help but arch your back in anticipation. His hands are exploring your body, making your heart race with every touch. His fingers deftly unbutton your shorts, slipping inside to caress the warm skin beneath. He kisses a trail down your sternum, his hot breath making you gasp. Reaching the waistband, he pulls your shorts and panties down in one swift motion, revealing your glistening folds.

With a low growl of desire, Toto buries his face between your thighs, his tongue lapping at your swollen clit. He devours you with a hunger that borders on feral, his fingers spreading your lips wide to grant himself deeper access.

Your back bows off the deck as his tongue plunges into your aching heat, lapping at your walls with a skill that drives you wild. He sucks your clit between his lips, rolling the sensitive bud with his tongue while his fingers curl inside you, stroking that sweet spot that makes your vision blur. With a delicate flick of his tongue, Toto teases your entrance, encouraging you to arch your hips and beg for more. He plunges deep into your wetness with a gusto that has you gripping the edge of the deck

His lips form a tight seal around your throbbing clit as he suckles greedily, his tongue darting and swirling to drive you to the brink. You're a whimpering, mewling mess beneath him, your fingers tangling in his hair as you try to pull him closer.

Toto's tongue is relentless, stroking and circling your sensitive nub with an expertise that borders on cruel. You're a quivering, sobbing mess, your thighs clenching around his head as he feasts on your arousal.

A sigh left your lips once more as you threaded your fingers back into his chestnut hair. It felt as though every hair on your body stood up straight as Toto flickering his eyes up to meet yours, Toto leaned forward and slow up the pace. Your head fell back with a whine as your hips involuntarily jutted toward his mouth.

"Please, Toto, more.." you gasp, your hips bucking against his mouth as he ramp up the intensity. His purring vibrates against your clit, it served you so well right now.

“Oh god.” You groaned, arching your back and pushing your cunt further into his face.

Toto's tongue flickers over your clit, sending sparks of pleasure coursing through your body. Your toes are curling and your legs start to shake uncontrollably as he pushes you over the edge. He pulled back slightly and gathered your folds between his fingers and squeezed them together.

“Such a pretty pussy, Prinzessin. Love seeing the way it’s dripping for me.”

Immediately he was diving back in, letting go of your folds to hold your legs back in place. The obscene slurping noises coming from between your legs had you moaning in pleasure. The feeling of his tongue prodding at your entrance made your hands fly to his hair and your legs lock over his back.

“Go on, Liebe. Use me. Fuck yourself on my tongue.” Toto mumbled, sticking his tongue out and allowing you to rock your core over it.

“Shit, shit, shit. Oh fuck, Toto, I’m-I’m gonna cum.” You squealed, increasing the speed at which you ground yourself against him.

Just like that, you felt the white hot pleasure of your orgasm rip through you, legs shaking slightly as you clenched your thighs around his head. Instead of pulling away, Toto doubled down and dug his fingers into your hips as he pushed his face further into your core. He lapped up your orgasm like he was put on this earth to do so.

The sensitivity from your last orgasm made you jerk away from him, but Toto had no intentions of letting you go.

“Come on, Schatzi. Give me one more, I know you got one more for me.”

Toto pulled back and quickly replaced his tongue with his middle and ring finger, curling them upwards as he thrusted them. At the same time he snaked his hand over the front of your swimsuit top and yanked your breasts free, making sure to pinch and tug on your nipples as he continued his rough pace.

There was no holding back the scream that erupted from your chest as you came for the second time. The orgasm that ripped through you was one that was so intense you could swear your eyes rolled all the way back into your head. Toto placed light kisses over your mound as you came down from your high.

“Good job, Schatzi. You did so good for me.”

Your eyes fluttered open slowly as Toto crawled back over you, grinning at your fucked out state. His nose traced the curve of your jaw as he waited for you to come back to. Licking your lips you pushed on his chest, signaling for him to let you up. As he sat up you followed him, only to push him down to the floor. Toto grinned at you proudly.

“Schatzi you know you don’t have to—“ Toto’s sentence was cut short with a low groan as you ran your hand over the length of him through his shorts.

Quickly ridding him of his swim trunks you took the length of him into your hand and pumped up and down a few times. You’d become wholly familiar with his anatomy in the time you’d been dating, but each time you saw his cock always felt like the first. Toto groaned, lips slightly parted as he looked down at you. Maintaining that eye contact, you leaned in and swirled your tongue around the head.

“Fffuck.” Toto breathed, gathering your hair at the top of your head so he wouldn’t miss a single view of you wrapped around his cock.

Moving down toward the bottom, you licked a stripe up the underside of his cock before taking as much of him in your mouth as you were able. Toto grunted loudly, doing his best to keep his hips from bucking up into your mouth.

“Jesus Christ. You feel so good, Liebe.” Toto praised.

You looked up at him from under your lashes as you continued to suck his cock. The blissed out look on his face made your core throb. There was something about the way you made him feel so good that you absolutely adored. You took your time, taking as much of him as you could as slowly as you could. Other men you were with liked their head messy and fast, but Toto always commented on how much he loved the way you took your time with him.

Pulling away, you continued to stroke him with your hand as you moved down to take his balls into your mouth and suck on them gently. As you began to do so, you felt his cock jump in your hand and a grin spread across your face.

“Fuck, Liebe, stop, stop.” Toto grabbed you and pulled you up.

Crashing his lips to yours, the kiss was needy and messy. Toto held your face tightly in his hands as you scrambled onto his lap. You pushed the shirt off his shoulders and Toto shrugged it off, pulling away to look at you.

“God, you’re gonna be the death of me one day, Schatzi. You make me feel so fuckin’ good.”

Positioning yourself over him, you sank down slowly on to his cock. The stretch was something you still hadn’t gotten used to, but god did it feel incredible. Each and every time you wondered how it was possible to feel so full. Toto grabbed your face and pulled you into another kiss as you allowed yourself to get used to him. Your arms wrapped around his neck and you pulled away from the kiss.

“Please move, Toto.” You panted.

Toto’s hands found their way to your hips as he slowly started to help you move back and forth. A long groan came from you as you leaned your head back. Toto took the opportunity to nibble gently on your pulse point. The rock of your hips back and forth had his pelvis hitting your clit each time, causing a surge of pleasure to shoot through your body.

“More, I need more.” You moaned out.

Toto wrapped his arm around your waist as he flipped you onto your back. The moment your back hit the floor, his pace increased tremendously. The lewd sound of slapping skin filled the area and you were grateful you were out in the middle of nowhere.

“You were fuckin’ made for me weren’t you, Schatzi? Goddamnit, you fit me like a fucking glove.” Toto growled, pushing your leg back even further so he could drill into you at a different angle.

You wrapped your hands around his forearm as he held on to your hip. The drag of his cock against your velvety walls had your eyes rolling into the back of your head once more. The hand that rested on your hip moved to rest on your lower abdomen right above your pelvis as he continued to piston in and out of you.

The movement only made the pressure in your abdomen increase tenfold and you could feel yourself starting to clench around him involuntarily.

“P-please, I-“

“You need to cum, hmm? My pretty girl gonna cum?”

“Please!” You yelled out as he snapped his hips particularly rough into you.

Toto placed both hands on your hips as he lifted you slightly off the ground, pounding into you with all he had. As he did so you reached your hand down your front and rubbed your clit in fast circles.

“Oh fuck, yeah. Rub your clit Liebe. Cmon, cum for me.”

After a few more snaps of his hips you felt yourself tensing up, toes curling as your third orgasm washed over you. This time your legs were shaking visibly and you groaned loudly.

“So fuckin pretty when you cum, Schatzi. Fuck.”

It was obvious that Toto was close. You could feel him twitch inside of you as well as the way his hips were beginning to falter.

“Want you to cum in me, Liebe. Wanna feel you cum in me.” You whimpered up at him.

“Fucking Christ!” Toto fell forward, hands on either side of you as he shoved his hips forward, painting your walls with his spend.

Toto remained leaning over you, pressing his forehead to yours as you moaned in tandem. Breathing in each other’s breath, you reached up and cupped his cheek. Toto wrapped his fingers around your wrist and turned his head to press a kiss to your palm, biting down on the flesh of your hand slightly. You giggled, watching him grin at your noise.

Toto pulled away from you, using the towel you had been sunbathing with to help clean you up. Toto laid down against the deck and you curled up against him, pressing a kiss to his chest as you tangled your leg with his. He stroked your hair with his hand as he pressed a kiss to your crown.

“Yeah,” he started, twirling your hair around his finger, “I’d say you deserve the moon.”

You laughed, hitting his chest for his dumb joke. Toto chuckled, taking your hand in his and lifting it up to his lips for a kiss.

“I love you, Schatzi. And I’m so proud of you.”

You could feel your heart swell at his words. Whenever you were with Toto, all you felt was love.

“I love you too, Toto. Thank you, for everything.”

The two of you remained tangled in one another while you regained your strength. The boat was quiet, the soft crashing of the waves once again soothing your senses as you let your eyes closed.

“So…” Toto’s voice brings you back to reality, “how about a round two?”

[yanderestarangel]

♡ — 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐍𝐒 𝐑𝐄 | 𝐃𝐀𝐃𝐃𝐘'𝐒 𝐅𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐃!𝐀𝐋𝐁𝐄𝐑𝐓 𝐖𝐄𝐒𝐊𝐄𝐑

— TW: smut, praise, dark themes, age gap, light yandere, age gap, friend of your farher!albert wesker, v!sex, manipulation, nsfw, distorted mind, oral, afab anatomy, blackmail, recorded sex, daddykink, no pronouns used besides 'you'.

♡—Wesker was a sick man, he knew that, but Albert's darkest desires could not be ignored for long. He was your dad's co-worker, and to tell the truth, he hated the man, however, there was something about your father that interested him... You.

♡— Wesker, unfortunately for you, laid eyes on you, it was just small glances behind the dark lenses of his glasses, but soon after, you were already in the scientist's darkest thoughts. He thought you were a precious thing, a little pearl that needed to be protected by him, so he decided to get even closer to your dad, it was so easy to manipulate the man and infiltrate your family that Albert found it pathetic, but he needed you... Being close to you, you were eating away at his mind with every bitter second that passed in the older man's abjacent solitude.

♡— Wesker could just get rid of anyone in the worst way possible and lock you up in a place isolated from everything and everyone, make you his untouched little doll, lock you in a glass dome and watch you all day — he could force you to loving him, worshiping him like a god, he wanted to make you walk on the ground he walks on and see your tongue lick every drop of his seed, things escalated very quickly for him, but he didn't care, in the blonde's head, he was a superior being, and could do anything he wanted.

♡— Wesker researched every strong and weak point of your personality, in a few days he had a folder and raw files of hours and hours of recordings of you, either with the wiretap he secretly placed on your cell phone, or with the cameras hidden behind home — which he put it when he went to your house, to drink some wine and hand over some papers from the umbrella to your dad — or for the hours he spent stalking every post of yours on the internet. He knew everything about you... Absolutely everything, you were his obsession, you were his property and his alone... It didn't take long for you to realize that.

♡— Wesker began with calm touches, as if he were watering a flower, wetting your petals of desire with the nectar of hot, forbidden touches. He would pay you so much attention, wearing the best smile behind his serious and cold face, his lips would always have an expression of comfort for you — He would always shower you with sweet nicknames, telling you how proud he is of you always giving your best to you. college grades, or how good you were. He would divert your father's attention just to visit you in your room, giving you expensive gifts that you had wanted for a long time. "— I just remembered you baby, it suits your eyes, don't worry about the value sweetheart." Albert would speak in a hoarse tone, placing the emerald necklace around your neck, brushing his fingers for too long on your skin and leaving soon after, leaving you with a confused feeling in your chest and a heat in your core.

♡— Wesker has been mentally writing down the best nicknames he can think of. "— My Prince/Princess, My doll, My baby boy/baby girl, My little gem, My good boy/girl, honey, darling, dear, sweet little thing." And all of them are accompanied by mischievous phrases and smiles. " — Good job prince/princess, you did well... Keep it up." " — you really are a cute little thing, aren't you? Making Daddy happy." The scientist would purr in your ear, away from your father's eyes... Not that he cares much, but he loves the feeling of adrenaline, seeing your face blush, you would be a mess for a simple compliment or word of affirmation... It was so cute to him, like a stalking prey, a deer lost and beautiful in the snow.

♡— Wesker knew that resisting his charm was never an option, and it wouldn't be. He is a man who knows how to play his cards right, and it wouldn't take long for him to trap you in his web of manipulation and possession, he would make you his body, mind and soul, break you to the breaking point.

♡— Wesker would have luxurious dinners at his penthouse, calling his family, an excuse to see you again. He would get your dad drunk enough to pull you to some corner of the house and pull down your clothes, slapping your ass hard as he knelt kissing your clit, forcing you to lean against the cold wall while he fucked you out. "— Fuck imagine if your father comes in here and sees his sweet son/daughter like that? Fucking his friend?" Albert smiled mischievously, as he inserted two thick fingers into your hole, stretching you to the sides, leaving you well prepared for him. He would hold you with his strong arms, taking you to the table where your father slept drunk, fucking you in front of the man's sleepy body. " — Fucking h-hell Mmm- imagine if he wakes up? Seeing you like this? Seeing that you're nothing but a fucking slut." He babbled, pushing the base of his dick into your cunt, while you covered your moans with your hand, feeling your eyes roll back into your head with pleasure.

♡— Wesker will fuck you in your own house, making an excuse for your father who needs to recommend some colleges to you, while he aggressively beats you on the mattress, tying your ankles with his tie, while overstimulating your pussy, inserting his shaft repeatedly into your uterus, he'll just take out even the tip and put it all in at once with a sadistic smile on his thin lips. "—I could fuck you like this all day."

♡— Wesker would say such dirty and sweet things to you while turning you into a dumb mess. " — Your sweet little pussy is made for my cock, isn't it?" His free hand reaches down to caress your breasts, pinching and pinching your sensitive nipples, eliciting more moans from your lips. He continues to tease and torment you, pushing you closer to the edge of orgasm before pulling back, prolonging your agony - and his, you could beg and whimper, as he takes a cell phone out of his pocket, focusing on your wet, abused hole. " — Oh, you little slut," he grows. " —I love the way you look when my cock stretches you out like this Ah- Fuck sweetheart-" And just as you're about to fall, he slows down once again, prolonging your ecstasy, the buildup almost unbearable. "—Not yet, my dear," he whispers in your ear, his voice filled with wicked delight. "—You will come when I say so. Only when I give you permission."

♡— Wesker will take several photos of your body covered in semen, in compromising positions and with his dick in your mouth, videos, gifs or any digital media available, he will manipulate and chat you so that you are always his, always stay on his side.

" — You will never run away from me, my little pet... Or else... Your father and all your family, friends... They will know what a whore you are, so just be good and keep your mouth shut, pretty boys/girls don't think."

©𝙔𝘼𝙉𝘿𝙀𝙍𝙀𝙎𝙏𝘼𝙍𝘼𝙉𝙂𝙀𝙇 2023

[thecharacterchronicler]

Please (Part 2) || Ominis Gaunt x Reader || Smut

Outline: After your arranged marriage and wedding night with Ominis, you found yourselves alone in the Gaunt house for a few days.

Word count: 2’840

Warnings: Explicit smut, pregnancy (mentions).

(May contain a few mistakes as English isn’t my first language.)

(( Part 1 - Bloodline )) - (( Part 3 - Heirloom )) - (( Masterlist ))

Ominis’ didn’t have much time after your engagement was announced to come up with a plan but he knew that the most important thing would be to keep you as far away as possible from his family after the wedding. He had thought about asking to settle with you in the Gaunts’ apartment in London or maybe in his family’s cottage by the beach but, as it turned out, it was his family that had decided to take their distances, probably because they wanted to facilitate the procreation of a heir.

His parents had left the manor for London only one day after your wedding, leaving you very little time to take the full measure of the Gaunt’s cruelty and darkness. As for Marvolo, he stayed elusive about where he was going to spend the next few days but what was important was that he was gone, far away from you.

With only you in the manor that he used to dread, Ominis slowly started thinking that it wasn’t so bad after all. The heavy atmosphere that usually weighted on his shoulders seemed a lot lighter now that you were around. Even his perpetual darkness had became somewhat lighter since you had been there with him, filling the house with piano melodies and laughters.

As per usual, he found you in the music room, your fingers practicing a tune that he knew by heart by now. He stood on the threshold for a moment, enjoying the melody and your presence. Even if he couldn’t see, the way the room radiated with warmth and light because you were in it made his heart swell.

For once in his life, Ominis was happy. Truly happy. Because you were there, shining a new light on everything he used to hate. Starting with that piano that his mother always forced him to play until his fingers hurt… Now everything he wanted was to sit next to you and play a duet along with you.

“Oh, I didn’t see you there.” Your voice said, as you stopped playing.

“Don’t mind me, I was just enjoying the music.”

He heard the air that left your lips every time you smiled so he smiled back at you, waiting for you to resume your tune but you didn’t, nervously fidgeting with your music sheet instead.

Ominis felt a pinch in his chest. He felt it a lot lately. It usually happened whenever he wondered if you were happy too. Because he was, and his only wish was that you felt it too. If you weren’t, then it meant you were feeling as trapped in this marriage than what you would have been if Marvolo had been your husband instead. Of course, Ominis would treat you better. He was your friend after all, your best friend. But he still couldn’t help but wonder sometimes who you would have chose to marry if you had had the freedom to decide for yourself. Sebastian ? Garreth ? Amit ? Even if the idea of you with another man made him sick with jealousy, he wouldn’t blame you if that was what you wanted. He sincerely wished you could have avoided a lifetime trapped with a Gaunt, even if it was him.

“I have a present for you.” He said, since you didn’t seem to want to play the piano anymore. He walked in your direction, stopping precisely close to the bench you were sitting on. His hand disappeared in the pocket of his vest, retrieving a small black box from it.

“You shouldn’t have.” You started, but your breath caught in your throat when he opened the box to reveal a beautiful gold ring, with a stone as black as a starless night on it. You traced a finger on the symbols engraved on the gem, feeling a powerful energy buzzing from it.

“It’s a family heirloom.” Ominis explained, as you were about to ask. “With a pretty ancient coat of arms engraved on it. I’ve been told my ancestor got it made for the woman he loved… It always gave me hope that maybe, some Gaunts are capable of love after all.”

“It’s truly beautiful.”

“It’s yours.” He took the ring out of the box, outstretching a hand in your direction. You placed your hand in his and he slowly slided the jewel on your ring finger. It fitted you perfectly, as if it had been made for you.

“I’m honored, thank you.” He heard you stand up from your seat, feeling you suddenly very close to him. Then, your soft lips pressed a kiss on his cheek, sending a wave of adrenaline through his body. “We haven’t really talked since our wedding night… Maybe we should.”

“What would you like to talk about ?”

“Our… marital duties ?” You said, a blush creeping up to your cheeks.

“Ah. That.” Ominis breathed, equally turning crimson.

“Your mother told me that I must birth an heir by the end of the year… But I wanted to know what you want.” You explained, your tone nervous.

“I want this bloodline to die with me.” He said, with no hesitation. Then, he realized that maybe, it wasn’t what you wanted to hear. “I apologize if you were hoping to have children but I do not wish to bring another Gaunt into the world.”

“I understand…” You said, softly, but he could tell something was bothering you. “I suppose I’m better off having no children than being forced by my husband to birth more babies than what my body could endure.”

Ominis took a deep breath. In other circumstances, maybe he would have wanted this. Especially with you. But he swore to himself a long time ago that he would never provide another child for his family to torture until they could turn him or her into a monster like them.

“If you wish to see Sebastian, or another man, I won’t stop you but I need you to be careful to not accidentally get pregnant.” He said it as stoically as he could, wanting to seem impassible so that you wouldn’t know how it consumed him with jealousy to imagine you with someone else. But he would survive it if it might make you happy.

“What ? You think I want to be with Sebastian ?” You asked him, incredulous. “Do you want to be with someone else ?”

“I don’t think so.” He replied. “I don’t really care for such things…”

“Oh. I see.” You said, and maybe he should have been clearer to avoid hearing such disappointment in your tone. He didn’t really care for such things because all he cared about was you. Since 5th year, the only person he ever imagined being intimate with was you. And if he couldn’t have you, then he wouldn’t have anyone else. “I’m sorry if last time was terrible, it was my first time. Maybe with some practice I could get better at it.”

“You… Want to practice ?” He repeated, unsure of what you meant.

“Yes ? Maybe you could tell me exactly what to do to please you.” You suggested, causing very inappropriate ideas to flash in his mind. You couldn’t be serious. “I’m eager to learn if you are willing to teach me.”

In the few days you had spent alone in the manor, after your wedding, you had talked to him as you always did, like a friend. Not once did it sound like you regretted what you had done on your wedding night but you also didn’t seem to plan on doing it again. You were back at being friends and, with his family away from the manor, Ominis had decided to respect this by sleeping in the living room instead of sharing a bed with you.

So hearing that you were, in fact, not opposed to consume your wedding again left him slightly dumbstruck for a moment. Were you doing this because his mother had instructed you to ? Because his parents - or yours - had threatened to hurt you if you didn’t produce an heir quickly ? Or could it be possible that you just wanted him ?

“Please, Ominis.” You begged, quietly. You stepped closer and planted a wet kiss in the crook of his neck, causing him to take a sharp inhale of air.

There you were, asking him again so nicely and politely for something that he was dying to give you. He knew by now that he didn’t have the willpower to ever refuse you anything at all, whatever you wanted, he would give you. No questioning, no hesitation, all you had to do was say please in that agonizingly desirable tone of yours and he would grant you everything you asked for.

His arms closed around your waist, pulling you against him into a feverish kiss. You left out a breath of relief against his lips, making him kiss you even harder in return. For the past few nights, he had laid awake on the couch, thinking about the curves and dips of your body, the way he had traced them and memorized them, forming the most detailed idea of what your body looked like in his mind, after all these years during which he barely dared touch you.

He put so much strength into his kisses that the pressure of his body against yours forced you to take a few steps back. He followed each one, until you could no longer retreat, your back pressed against the imposing piano behind you.

“Sit down.” He instructed you, but he left you no time to do it, lifting you up and sitting you on the keyboard, unpleasant notes played all together resounding in the room under your weight.

He fell to his knees in front of you, his hands reaching to your legs and slowly moving upwards, scrunching up the fabric of your skirt in the process until it was all the way up to your hips. He tugged on your underwear and you moved to help him remove them, once again causing a few notes of music to fill the air between you.

“What should I do ?” You asked him, the uncertainty in your voice making him grin.

“Nothing at all.” He replied, leaning forward to bury his face between your thighs. You gasped as soon as you felt his tongue between your folds, tasting you in a way you didn’t think possible.

“But…” You started, but interrupted yourself to catch your breath, your head swimming from the pleasure his tongue swirling around your sensitive clit provoked inside your body. “I want to learn how to please you.”

“This is pleasing me.” He assured you, because it really did. He had always wondered what you tasted like, and what sounds would come out of your mouth if he licked you down there. He was indulging into one of his wildest fantasies about you and nothing could have pleased him more at that very moment.

“Ominis…” You breathed, wanting to argue but moaning instead. With his hands gripping each of your thighs to ensure they were as far apart as they could be to grant him access and his tongue unrelenting in the way it explored the walls of your pussy, you couldn’t help but give in, closing your eyes and pressing your back against the piano, biting your lip to silence another moan.

When he pushed his tongue passed your entrance, your hand fell by your side, pressing a few keys in the process which made you jump but didn’t seem to phase him the least, maybe because your thighs were muffling every sound in his ears, apart from your delicious cries of pleasure. You put your hand on his head, fingers messing up his neat hairstyle to pull him even closer, wanting him deeper. So much deeper.

“I need you.” You managed to tell him, even though your body was trembling in bliss. “Please.”

He groaned against your folds, eyes closed. He needed you too, his cock was swollen in his pants, wanting nothing more than to be freed and shoved inside you for relief.

Maybe if he was very careful…

His mouth left your core and he wiped his lips with the back of his hand as you kept panting, perched on the piano. He knew it must be a lovely sight to see, you flushed from the pleasure he had given you and your legs spread open for him, your folds coated in his saliva and your own deliciously sweet arousal.

He stood up, opening his pants to free the erection so desperate to be inside you again. He heard how you quietly gasped as he pulled his hard length out, shuddering with excitement. He leaned down to kiss you, wondering if you could taste yourself on his lips and, as you attempted to catch your breath, he flipped you over, bringing your feet back to the ground and your hands slamming the piano keys in a abrupt melody once again.

He had to pull your skirt up to your hips again, exposing your round ass to him. He traced the contour of that part of you he had yet to discover, his fingers digging in the tender flesh a few times as if wanting to take the full measure of what it looked like. And, once his curiosity satisfied and the feeling stored in his memory, he aligned his cock with your entrance and pushed it in, slowly.

He had expected to find a resistance there, as he had last time, but his cock gently slided all the way inside you without you making a single sound of pain or discomfort. He left out a breath, loving how warm and tight you felt around him. He enjoyed it all the more knowing that he was welcome there, your wetness making it easy for him to bury himself inside you all the way until his hips were squeezed against your ass.

You felt incredible.

So good in fact that he struggled to control himself, wanting to thrust in and out of you so hard until he could be satisfied but he was determined to be a gentleman. Instead of the rough shoves he craved, he rocked himself back and forth painfully slowly, earning some lovely sounding moans and whimpers out of you as a reward for behaving.

It felt as if you were getting tighter the more you were crying out in pleasure and he knew he wouldn’t be able to take it much longer. He had came inside you last time, because it was your first time and he wanted to do things the traditional way. He took your virginity which you were willing to give him now that he was your husband. And he gave you his too, even though it felt a lot more insignificant in comparison. He had spilled his release inside you, to mark you as his, to forever be the first one to ever do it. But he wouldn’t do it again, the risk was too great to take.

He had to be cautious.

He pushed himself forward with more strength than what he had meant to use, making the piano sound again under your shifting weight. You bounced back against him, making him hit so deep inside that you loudly moaned, body tensing as violently as your pussy tightened around his cock, momentarily trapping him inside you and violently pulsating all around him, trying to get him to fill you up as he naturally should. And he almost did. It felt so good, way too good to resist…

He managed to pull out just in time for his release to splash out of him, warm drops landing on your ass and thighs. He breathed loudly, cock twitching in his hand as he emptied all of his pant up desire for you that he had fought against in the past few days. The quantity only rivaling the intensity of the pleasure he felt.

He didn’t notice you move, too busy enjoying his climax so he jumped slightly when he felt your lips around the tip of his still hard cock, your tongue licking the pink flesh with delight.

“Wh-What are you doing ?” He asked, breathing ragged. He had to lean forward and rest his hands on the piano to keep his balance, the sensitivity of his cock heightened after the strong orgasm he had.

“I wanted a taste too.” You admitted, licking each side of his shaft with care. He closed his eyes, a groan escaping from his lips as your tongue collected the salty wetness that coated his length.

He cursed and another load of his release filled your mouth, his body trembling and his head swimming in bliss. You sucked every drop out of him and swallowed it all, as he sat down on the piano chair with a dizzy expression on his face, struggling to catch his breath.

You allowed him a few minutes before you rose up from your knees to kiss him, gently pressing your hand against his racing heart. He kissed you back, tenderly, as his fingers caressed yours, contouring the new ring on your finger.

♡ - (( Tip Jar )) - ♡

Previously in this series;

Next in this series;

[hopepetal]

This story is set in @applestruda's boatem knights au! I've wanted to write something with Gem for a while, so here it is!

Masterlist

Read on AO3!

It’s been so long since her last bounty, and Gem is itching for a fight. 

This much, she tells Cleo while watching the armorer work on their newest project. Gem’s frequent visits had allowed the two to grow close over the course of her bounty hunting career, to the point where it wasn’t always business that brought her there. Sometimes, it was just for casual conversation, or just because Gem was bored or passing through the area. 

Cleo raises an eyebrow, not looking up from her work. “Tell you what,” she begins, turning the chest plate slightly so that it could catch the light, “it’s all well and good that you want a fight until you get yourself caught up in one you can’t win.” 

Gem scoffs at that as she leans against the counter. “Oh, I never lose. You don't need to worry about me, Cleo.”

“That’s what Etho kept saying, before you chopped his damn head off.” 

Rolling her eyes, Gem flicks her braid behind her shoulder. “That was Etho. And, as you clearly haven’t forgotten, I was the one who did the chopping there. So thanks, but I think I’m good.”

Cleo chuckles. “Yeah, yeah. Just return here in one piece, alright? I can’t be losing my best customer.”

Gem sets her elbows on the counter, leaning forward with a cheery grin. “Best customer and best friend?” 

“Get out.”

And so Gem finds herself wandering back to the kingdom of Dogwarts, in search of work and a fight. Maybe both. For her, it usually was. It’s why she chose this path of employment, of course– one didn’t just stumble into becoming a bounty hunter. Unless they were particularly skilled at said stumbling, of course. 

It’s been a while since Gem’s been in the bustling kingdom, and the stark difference between the outer lands and the kingdom always amazes her. She knew that the kingdom boasted the most prestigious redstone academy in the continent, but it’s another thing entirely to see that in action. 

Compared to the sparse population of the outer lands, the kingdom is a bustling city full of people. They continue to add on new developments each year, the construction drawing even more people to the kingdom for work on top of the people already moving in. It was certainly a far cry from the occasional village Gem stumbled upon in the outer lands.

The other difference that really stood out to her was the difference in how prevalent magic was. In the outer lands, magic is everywhere– from daily tasks to impressive feats, it was impossible to go one day without seeing some sort of spell. In the kingdom, it’s a lot more common to see redstone inventions being used in place of magic, though magic is still used. It was much more noticeable to Gem, who travels back and forth frequently between the two extremes. 

It wasn’t long before Gem ends up making her way into the local tavern, the place where she found most of the jobs she took. It’s rowdy as ever, and she finds herself missing the quiet of her friend’s tavern. Nevertheless, she quickly finds her usual seat and orders her usual drink, greeting the bartender with a tired smile. 

“Anything new?” she asks after a few minutes, when the bartender wasn’t so swamped with orders. 

The bartender shrugs. “Not really? But there was something that caught my eye.” They set down their glass for a moment and duck below the bar, grabbing a paper and placing it in front of Gem. “An older one, but it’s resurfaced recently with everyone cleaning out all the more urgent ones.” With that, the bartender gives her a pointed look, to which she responds with a laugh. “Anyway. A runaway who destroyed a very important lab of the king and escaped on foot with precious redstone and technology. He’s assumed to be armed and very dangerous.”

Gem pulls the paper to her, looking it over closely. It seemed to be an average bounty– especially for who had put it out. The man’s face is inked in an artistic depiction of him beneath his ‘WANTED’ notice and list of crimes. What most stands out to her is his incredibly sharp mustache and scruffy beard. “Mm… I see. And this was put out by the king’s advisor himself? I’m surprised it’s gone unclaimed for so long.”

The bartender shrugs, continuing to go about their job as they converse with Gem. “I think most people were daunted by the task. That, and those who tried to find this man simply couldn’t. He’s a slippery fellow, so I’ve been told.”

Gem laughs, her eyes not leaving the man’s inked face. “Well, I’ve been told I have quite the talent for catching those who hide in the shadows.” Quite literally, if she thought back to her last big job. Which, while it had technically ended in success, isn’t really something she wants to go through again. 

Gem had not signed up for magical creatures that revived when you cut off their heads. A simple redstone thief with a penchant for explosions? Yeah, she had this one in the bag. 

“I’ll take it,” she tells the bartender, folding up the paper and sticking it into her bag. “Sounds like a fun little job.” 

The bartender chuckles, shaking their head. “How long do you think this one’s going to take you?” they ask, already knowing Gem’s answer. 

“A month, tops.” She says this with the same confident smile that she always wears when going out on jobs. “Any more than that, and I owe you a drink.”

The bartender throws a towel over their shoulder, laughing. “Well, can’t wait for that to never happen. I’m sure you’ll be back even sooner than we expect as usual, with a story to tell.”

Finishing her drink, Gem stands back up. “I never disappoint,” she promises, sliding the payment for her drink over the table. “I’ll see you then! And thanks for the tip!” she calls, making her way out of the tavern.

It was time to go hunt down a redstoner. 

It actually isn't as hard as she thought. 

The man– Mumbo, his name is– has made a name for himself in the outer lands to the North. Gem can't help but be a little surprised. She's never had a bounty with such mixed public opinion; some people absolutely love him, while others want his head to roll. 

“That man?” Someone had scoffed when she asked, shaking their head. “Void below, I can't stand him. He's a genius, sure, but the noise he makes!” They had clicked their tongue disapprovingly. “And when I complained about it and asked him to be a little more quiet, he threw bricks through my window!”

Another person– a young woman– had a dreamy expression when Gem asked her about Mumbo. “He's such a cute knight! One time, he helped me get my cat down from a tree…” 

Her friend had raised an eyebrow. “Clara, he climbed up into the tree and fell off of it. Your cat got down all on her own.”

Clara hadn't responded, lost in her daydreaming.

The more she asks around, the more mixed answers she receives. 

Gem couldn't help but laugh at that. This bounty would be interesting, if nothing else. 

She finds the camp easily enough. All she has to do is ask where the knights are, and she's pointed in the right direction. It's almost a full day on foot– she leaves her horse at the nearest village to be more stealthy. 

It’s getting colder out. The leaves are beginning to shift from green to yellow and orange, sparks of red standing out amongst the others. Gem’s feet crunch against the ground as she travels down the path, hands stuck in her pockets to keep them warm. 

She’s been wandering around the area for about a week now, gathering intel on the group. From what she can tell, they’re a close group of four friends: Impulse, Grian, Scar, and her target, Mumbo. She doesn’t get close enough to really hear them talking. She’d heard of avians’ enhanced hearing and doesn’t want to take her chances with getting too close. If the stories she’d heard were true, she didn’t want to get caught by these guys. Especially given what she was here to do.

At one point, she got a little closer to the camp to listen in on a conversation. She had an extra invisibility potion, and she figured she could put it to use for this job. Though she knew enough about the so-called “knights”, more information couldn’t hurt. 

The one with brown hair and a very stabbable chest– his name is Scar, she recalls– leans against Grian, the avian of the group. “So, the plan is to head out tomorrow?”

Impulse nods. “Yep. You’re good to stay behind to keep Pearl company, Mumbo?”

Mumbo leans forward, his hands folded in front of him on the table. He looks so polite when he speaks that Gem can hardly believe he’s a hardened criminal. “Of course! I’ll make sure she doesn’t get too lonely.”

Gem frowns at that, but quickly shakes away the uncertainty. If there was another person here, she would’ve seen them by now. Pearl is probably the dog that was prowling around the camp.

Grian sighs and pushes Scar off him, standing up. “Well, I’m absolutely shattered, so I’m going to bed. We gotta get up early if we’re gonna be traveling tomorrow.” He looks up, gaze sweeping over the knights and then around the camp. 

At the same time, the wind shifts, and Scar stiffens. His eyes meet Gem’s. Gem sucks in a breath, and has to check to make sure her invisibility potion is still working. 

It is, but it doesn’t stop her from shivering as Scar’s gaze lingers, then pulls away.

After a moment, Scar stands, putting on a fake pouty face. “Aww, okay. Goodnight, G! Night, Impulse. Night, Mumbo!” 

A chorus of goodnights echoes from the group, and Gem slips away unnoticed. 

The forest is anything but quiet at night. Gem is safe up in the trees, and sleep comes easy to her after years of travel, but she remembers her first year of adventuring and the hellish noises that kept her up for hours.

A skeleton rattles below. Further away, a zombie groans. Gem leans against the tree and closes her eyes.

Gem rises with the sun and to the rhythmic sound of horse hooves against well-packed dirt. She exhales, breath turning to fog, before stretching. She turns her head to the side, tracking the sound of hooves. Only when it fades off into the distance does she untie herself from the branch and jump down, finally able to stretch fully.

She takes an hour or two to wake up and gather all her things. It’s almost midday by the time she sheathes her sword after warming up and begins her trek to the camp. It likely won’t come down to a fight, from what she knows about Mumbo, but one can never be too careful. She knows not to underestimate an enemy.

It is somewhat pathetic that she’s able to walk up right behind him without him even noticing, but Gem chalks that up to her being very good at her job.

“Hey there, Mumbo!” she greets, and can’t help but laugh as he shrieks and falls over backwards. “Oop, careful! Don’t hurt yourself.”

Mumbo scrambles back and to his feet, looking up at Gem with wide eyes. “What– what on earth– who are you?! How do you know my name?”

Gem tilts her head to the side, keeping the smile on her face. “I’m Gem. Nice to meet you.” She takes a step forward. “King Ren placed a bounty on your head, and I’m here to collect! Do you want to come with me willingly, or…?” She places a hand on the hilt of her sword.

Mumbo pales. “Well, look, okay, there’s been a misunderstanding!” He holds his hands up as he steps back, eyes darting around wildly. “There’s no need for violence! I’m a very peace loving guy! Peace, love, and plants, y’know!”

Gem raises an eyebrow. “By force, then! That’s cool!” She draws her sword.

Mumbo does what any average person would do– scream, then run away.

Gem, of course, chases. It’s easy enough to catch up to Mumbo and trip him, sending the taller man falling to the ground with another shriek. She quickly puts her sword to Mumbo’s throat, and he freezes.

“...please don’t kill me?” he asks after a moment, chest heaving as he stares up at her. “I don’t, I won’t lie to you, I don’t particularly want to die?” 

Gem laughs, shaking her head. “I’m not going to kill you. I just need to bring you back to the king so I can collect your bounty!” She pulls her sword away, twirling it in her hand. “Whatever happens to you after is on him, not me.” She tilts her head. “Also, didn't you have a beard?”

Mumbo blinks. “What? No, I– hold on, a beard?! I know they always get my mustache wrong, but a beard? And what do you mean, a bounty?”

Gem puts her sword back at Mumbo’s throat. “I think they have to hire a new portrait artist. Anyway! I need to take you to the King, so I can get paid, and you can be brought to justice, et cetera.”

“But we can talk about this!” Mumbo pleads. “Surely I could pay you or something, I have quite a lot of things, I–!”

The only warning Gem is given is Mumbo’s gaze darting to the side. Someone slams into her, sending her stumbling away.

Gem turns and sweeps her sword out in time to block the blade of a scythe. The impact jars both her and her attacker, giving Gem enough time to reorient herself.

The woman straightens up, and her fever-clouded eyes focus on Gem. Her wings are flared out, displaying eyespots that stare down at Gem. “Why are ya messin’ with my knights?” 

From where he’s fallen, Mumbo yelps, “Pearl!”

Ah. So this is the Pearl they had been talking about. Gem curses herself for making assumptions, then tightens her grip on her sword and grins. “You wanna fight? Fantastic!” 

Pearl lets out a sharp breath, and Gem doesn’t fail to notice how her hands tremble slightly holding her scythe. “Not very fair of you to attack Mumbo while he’s all alone, don't ya think?”

Gem laughs as she shifts into a fighting stance. “I’d say it’s more fair than a 2v1!”

“I’m staying out of this!” Mumbo interjects, continuing to back away. “Good luck, Pearl!”

Pearl tilts her head. “That fair enough for you?” She doesn’t wait for Gem to answer, folding her wings tight against her back and lunging for her. 

It’s been a while since Gem’s had a good fight. Since Etho, she thinks, though the fight with him had been made interesting by his strange abilities with shadows and ice. Pearl isn't using any magic– it's pure skill that Gem is fighting against, and it's been a while since she's fought anyone like this. 

As the fight goes on, though, it becomes more clear to Gem just how unfocused Pearl is. By the looks of it, she'd just rolled out of bed when Mumbo screamed. Gem shakes away any doubts about fighting someone who is clearly ill as she blocks a strike that would've taken her arm off. 

“Wow!” she exclaims, ducking and stepping to the side as Pearl's scythe sweeps over her, “you're really going all out, huh?” 

Pearl laughs in response to that, as if they were two friends sparring for fun. “You were attacking my Mumbo! ‘course I'm goin’ all out!”

Gem swings out with her sword again, catching Pearl's leg with her blade. “Your Mumbo is a wanted criminal!”

Pearl yelps and stumbles back. She holds out her scythe in a defensive position.

Gem takes a moment to catch her breath, staring at Pearl. “It'd be best if you just hand Mumbo over! I promise I won't hurt him!”

Pearl shakes her head. “Absolutely not, mate! Mumbo is family!” 

Gem shrugs. “Your grave, then!” 

She lunges. 

The fight has a sort of rhythm to it. Gem lunges, Pearl blocks. Pearl slices with her scythe, Gem dodges. The rhythm is only broken by Pearl occasionally stumbling– which Gem takes advantage of to strike out and nick Pearl. She's never able to make too deep a cut, and Pearl gets her back plenty of times, but she lands enough hits to start feeling much better about her chances of winning. 

...and then she's on the ground, dew soaking into her clothes as she lies there. Her sword is gone, fallen out of her hand in the struggle. 

She looks up at Pearl, who stands above her. Her cheeks are reddened by exertion and fever, her hair is cascading over her shoulders in messy waves, and most infuriatingly there is a smile on her lips even as she holds her scythe to Gem's throat. 

Gem doesn't move. She waits, with bated breath, for Pearl to kill her.

Instead, Pearl sheathes her scythe and bends down, holding out a hand. “There ya go, mate, let's get you back on your feet.”

Gem blinks. “What?”

Pearl tilts her head in confusion. “I'm helping you up. Did you hit your head?”

Gem frowns. “No, I just– why aren't you killing me?” She takes Pearl’s hand anyway.

Pearl raises an eyebrow, pulling Gem to her feet. “Would you have killed me if I lost?” She grins when Gem shakes her head. “Thought so.”

Mumbo peeks out from the tree he hid behind, giving Pearl a little wave. “You don't want to kidnap me anymore?”

Gem groans, grabbing her bloodied sword and wiping it on the grass before sheathing it. “I miscalculated. Thought you were alone and Pearl was the big dog I saw wandering around camp. Turns out, I was wrong.”

Pearl laughs. “Tilly! No, no, she's my lovely puppy.”

“Wolf,” Mumbo corrects quietly, “she's a wolf, Pearl.” 

Pearl shrugs, then looks over at Gem. “Well, if you’re gonna stick around, we have some soup I can heat up? You can tell us all about why you’re here, and maybe I’ll be able to give ya somethin’ for your time.”

Gem lets out a disbelieving laugh. “Yeah. Sure. Sure, why not. This day couldn’t get any more crazy, I think.”

Mumbo, who had slowly been inching closer to the two while they were talking, is quick to grab Pearl when she tries to walk and stumbles. “Pearl! Wait, hold on, I’ll help you over, but you have got to sit down after that. I’ll heat up the soup and get you some bandages.” 

“Alright, alright…” Pearl slings an arm over Mumbo’s shoulders, and gestures for Gem to follow them. “Oof, that took a lot out of me, actually.” She glances back at Gem. “You’re good. Where’d you learn to fight like that?”

Gem snorts, following them across the camp. “I could ask you the same question. You’re insane.” 

Mumbo helps Pearl sit down on the bench. Gem hesitates, then takes the seat across from Pearl, watching as Mumbo grabs a large covered container of soup. “Honestly,” he says, “Pearl’s one of the strongest people I know. Everyone here is, but Pearl and Impulse–” he laughs, putting the container on what looks to be a type of redstone warming gadget– “they’re incredible.” 

Pearl giggles. “Aww, Mumbo! You’re too kind, mate.” She closes her eyes and lets out a breath. “You mind gettin’ those bandages? I’m startin’ to feel a little hurt here.”

Gem grimaces. “My bad! You got me good in a few places too, though.”

Pearl nods, giving Gem a bright smile. “Dang right I did! Mumbo, can you get some extra bandages for our new friend here?”

Mumbo nods, bending down to open a different wooden container and pulling out some bandages and a dry towel. “Her name’s Gem, by the way. Introduced herself to me before chasing me down.” 

“That’s nice,” Pearl quips, “good to let your victims know who they have the pleasure of bein’ killed by, at the very least.”

Gem blushes. “I wasn’t going to kill him! Honestly! I was just going to bring him back to King Ren, and even then he was probably just gonna be put in jail or something!”

Mumbo sits next to Pearl and begins to dab at the cuts with the towel. “I don’t really want to go to jail?” He hands a roll of bandages and a towel to Gem, who begins to take care of her own wounds.

“We’d break you out,” Pearl assures him, then turns to look at Gem. “Right. This bounty, tell me about it? You said King Ren put it out?”

Gem glances at Mumbo. “Honestly, I think it’d be better hearing it from his side, first. I wasn’t there for the whole reason the bounty was placed.”

Mumbo looks up from where he was wrapping Pearl’s wounds. “Oh! Well, uh, you see. So, I guess, I accidentally blew up one of his labs? I was making something, can’t really remember what it was, and well. Kaboom! Blew it all to smithereens, unfortunately. And because I wasn’t really supposed to be there, they didn’t really have a lot of sympathy for me.” He grabs Pearl’s hand and pulls her other arm up so he can tend to the wounds on it. “So! I ran!”

“Are our things at risk of blowing up, then?” Pearl asks, looking pointedly at the redstone machine that was warming up the soup. Her wings flutter slightly. 

Mumbo shrugs. “Probably not. I mean, I’m much more careful now. I don’t use things until I’m like… 99% sure they won’t blow up.”

Gem raises an eyebrow. “That’s a whole 1% of uncertainty.”

Pearl laughs, pulling her arm back once Mumbo finishes bandaging up her cuts. “Better than 2%! I’ll take it.” 

Mumbo hands Pearl the roll of bandages and stands up to check on the soup. It must be done, because he carefully takes the container off the heating gadget and grabs some bowls and spoons from yet another wooden container. After rifling through the container for another minute, he pulls out a ladle with a triumphant sound and stands back up. “Soup’s ready!”

Once the soup is ladled into every bowl and placed on the table, Mumbo sits back down. “You alright, Pearl?” he murmurs, to which Pearl nods. 

“Just a lil dizzy,” she responds, “but that’s– probably fine. I should get back to bed soon, probably.”

“Eat your soup first, at least.” Mumbo looks up at Gem. “And, well, I guess we should hear your side of this whole thing, huh?”

Gem sighs, taking a sip of her soup before leaning back. “Well, I was looking for another job and yours came up. I figured it’d be pretty easy to grab you and bring you back to the King, and then I’d be set for the next couple months with the reward.” She laughs softly. “To be honest, I didn’t even think I was going to have to fight.”

Mumbo makes a sad noise. “I would’ve fought back!” he protests, “you just startled me!”

“Oh, I’m sure you would’ve!” Gem agrees. “You just would’ve lost.”

Pearl chuckles. “Be nice to Mumbo! He’s a very skilled tactician.” She has some more soup before leaning forward, resting her elbows on the table. “What are your plans now?”

Gem shrugs. “I wasn’t hired for this job, so it doesn’t really matter if I complete it or not. The money would’ve been nice, but my reputation won’t take a blow because of this.” She thinks for a moment, humming softly in contemplation. “Honestly, I might just spend a while up around here to see if any of the nearby villages have jobs for me, if anything. Or I might head to the city to look for more bounties.” She eats some more soup. It’s very good, made with potatoes and bacon and cheese, and it’s slightly spicy nature has her feeling warm despite the cold autumn weather.

 “Oh! Speaking of, you’re going to want to keep an eye on this guy–” She gestures at Mumbo– “for a bit, or speak to King Ren about his bounty. Otherwise, some other hunter who isn’t as nice as me might pick up his bounty.” 

Mumbo’s eyes widen. “Well. I don’t really want that to happen!”

Pearl nods. “Yeah, that makes sense… I’ll speak with the others when they get back and we’ll see about making a trip there. If that’s okay with you?” She directs the question to Mumbo, who holds up his hands and shakes his head.

“I dunno! Do whatever you think is best, mate. It would be nice to get the bounty off my head so we don’t have to worry about people coming to camp.” Mumbo looks a little downtrodden as he speaks, crossing his arms and looking away. “I mean, look at what happened. You’re hurt, and Grian’s probably going to rip my arm off for it!”

Gem inhales sharply. “I might want to head out then, if you have a friend who’s gonna react like that…”

Pearl laughs. “No, Mumbo’s joking– Grian can’t and won’t do that, not to Mumbo. And even if he wanted to do that to someone, I still don’t think he could.” She finishes her soup and leans against Mumbo. “It might be good for you to skedaddle before everyone gets back, though. We can introduce you at another time, when you haven’t just injured me while I’m ill and supposed to be resting.”

Mumbo chuckles nervously, letting Pearl lean against him. “Yeahhh… I can’t imagine that’ll go down too well with the others. Even if you are friendly now.”

Gem takes the last bite of her soup, and sets her spoon in the bowl. “I can’t imagine it would, I really can’t. Thank you for the soup and bandages, but–”

Before she’s able to finish speaking, Pearl jumps up from the table. “Wait! Hold on, I have something for you.” She takes a few steps away, then turns back and grabs Mumbo’s hand. “Sorry, taking this guy with me– still don’t really trust you. Stay right there!”

Gem waves her hand, slightly confused. “That’s fair! I’ll be here.” 

They return after a few minutes, with Pearl holding a few things in her arms. “Right! Here’s a pouch of some gold and iron coins, to cover at least a little of the bounty. And this–” She sets down a piece of parchment on the table– “this is moth mail. It’s a special thing I made a while back. Just write a letter, tap the little sigil drawn on the top corner, and it’ll get to me! You can use that to contact me if you need, or if you’re in the area.”

Gem blinks. “Wow! Oh, gosh, thank you? I gotta know, though, how come you’re being so nice to me? I was going to turn Mumbo over to the King.”

Pearl shrugs. “I mean, you’ve been chill after that, so why hold grudges? Gotta make friends where ya can.” She straightens back up. “Really! Feel free to come back any time, as long as you let me know first. If you don’t, I might assume you’ve come to collect some other bounty we don’t know about and fight you again.”

Gem laughs as she stands up, taking the pouch of coins and parchment paper. “Wouldn’t want that to happen, for sure!” She takes a step back. “Well, thank you both for the kindness… and entertainment, I suppose. This morning was certainly an interesting one.”

Mumbo smiles nervously. “Yeah, I agree. It was nice, uh, meeting you? And not getting kidnapped by you? And not being put in jail. Yeah.”

Gem only laughs louder at that. “Yeah, I’m glad I could contribute to things you’re grateful for.” She takes a breath, looking between Mumbo and Pearl. “Well. I’ll be heading out, then. Thanks for the coin and the paper.”

Pearl leans against Mumbo, who is doing his best to steady her. “No worries, mate! Have fun with… whatever you’re going to do!”

As Gem starts walking back toward the forest, she just barely hears Pearl mumble, “I need to pass out right now,” to Mumbo. 

Gem pays the stable manager for taking care of her horse with some of the money Pearl gave her. Honestly, she’s still a little shocked over how the whole ordeal went down, but hey; at least she still got paid. 

“And I got some new friends out of it, too,” she tells her horse as she rides off into the forest. “So that’s a plus!” 

She isn’t quite sure what she’s going to tell the bartender when she inevitably returns, but she’ll figure something out. For now, she’s good to look for her next bounty– wherever it might be.

[primalsouls]

your eyes

'malipo' kinich x m!reader

I don't care how long it takes As long as I'm with you I've got a smile on my face

theme: general, fluff

warning: none, i think, maybe a bit ooc?

summary: (name) has been crushing on a certain saurian hunter for a while already and wayna was getting tired of just watching him stare at the hunter with loving eyes with no plans of making a confession. just how long until kinich notices?

notes: got some inspiration lol i finally got kinich a couple of nights ago xD I was so happy, so I started writing this fic for him lol hope you like it! reblog & comments, any feedback is appreciated!

(colored) eyes stared at the back of a certain saurian hunter. he was talking to one of the tribe’s elders. (name) sighed. a longing gaze watching the dendro user walk away with a small bag of mora in his hands, his annoying companion yapping away beside him about any little trait he could use to berate the other. with kinich out of sight, (name) returned to sorting through a box full of gems but another figure blocked his way, startling the young seller.

“you keep staring at him like that, he’ll feel holes burning in the back of his head.” joked the tribe's chief Wayna, a playful smirk displayed on his features. (name)’s cheeks burned, a pinkish hue decorating across them. “c’mon, when are you going to tell him? you’ve been pinning him since the day you came from Inazuma.” wayna added with a tilt of his head and his arms crossed firmly over his chest. (name) glared at him lightly, smacking the chief’s arm while gesturing to shush. 

“shut up! you can’t say that aloud.” (name) huffed, walking over to the chief to return to his latest shipment. part of him regretted telling wayna about his secret crush on the dendro hunter. well, more like the older man found out within the first few weeks after (name) arrived in huitztlan and got rescued by kinich and the self-centered dragonlord k'uhul ajaw in a near-death attack by some of the wild saurians. Wayna, of course, teased the inazuman merchant for a while about his little secret crush on the hunter after promising not to spill it out to anyone else, especially on kinich, or worse, ajaw. but wayna was getting a little tired of the electro user just staring at the guy whenever he was around. it had been almost half a year since (name) came to natlan. he was surprised kinich didn’t sense those yearning glances… yet. maybe he already noticed but doesn’t bother looking into it. maybe he didn’t. wayna was curious now. 

wayna sighed, shaking his head. “young people these days.” he said, looking over the seller roamed through his shipment. “you two aren’t staying any younger. you should confess, (name).”

“and for what? to get rejected? get made fun of and berated by the oh-so-great dragonlord k’uhul ajaw?” (name) said through gritted teeth, annoyance sipping into his tone. “i’ve rather died in the night kingdom than confess my feelings to kinich.” wayna winced at the last part of (name)’s statement. not wanting to get electrocuted, wayna simply patted (name)’s head and walked away to attend to other matters in the tribe. the merchant clicked his tongue before moving around his little shop to display the new various gems he received from kirara. as he pulled out another small box with more gems stored inside it, (name) noticed a pretty gem that had a familiar color of a familiar pair of eyes. oh, great. now kinich was beginning to affect his line of work. maybe he should confess… but how? no, maybe he shouldn’t. his feelings are only going to get hurt and he would have no choice but to move back to inazuma. archons, his mind tends to be exaggerating. 

(name) shook his head. maybe next time. when he has enough courage to confess his pining feelings. 

the gem matching kinich’s eyes was too pretty. (name) had no choice but to make it into a bracelet. it looked beautiful. just like kinich. ugh. he just can’t get rid of him. The saurian hunter kept plaguing his mind every day and night. his heart raced at just the mention of his name. (name) frowned. he put the bracelet away in his pockets as he walked down the dirt path leading to the scions of the canopy. he was still a long way from home. (name) had a delivery he needed to do personally, to make the gems the customer asked for delivered safely and he did so by delivering them himself. he should have just hired kirara. it was a long walk. too long. 

“you pathetic, lizard-brain worm! you dared tried to defy the almighty dragonlord k’uhul ajaw!? you truly dared to invite the wrath of the almighty dragonlord k’uhul ajaw, a sovereign of the nation of flames!”

(name) paused. he recognized that voice. that aggravating voice. even from this distance, he could feel it getting under his skin. but if ajaw was nearby… does that mean he was too?

biting his lower lip back, (name) debated eavesdropping into their conversation. he shouldn’t but… archons, he sounded like a creep thinking this, he wanted to see kinich. it had been almost a week since he last saw him. it was just a little glance. that’s all. 

quietly walking over behind a tree, (name) peeked over the trunk. ah, there he was. standing tall with his arms crossed over his chest, eyes closed as he let ajaw talk his ears off. but it wasn’t just him there. the legendary traveler and their companion paimon were there, too. (name) honestly didn’t pay attention to the other three. His longing gaze was set on the dark-haired dendro user. 

wow. how can a human being like him be so pretty and strong-willed?

(name) sighed with a heavy heart and blinked. but when he looked over to where kinich stood, said hunter was gone. oh, no. the other three were still arguing with one another, so where had kinich gone to?

“i’ve seen the way you look at me when you think i don’t notice.” a voice spoke lowly behind him. (name) let out a small, frightened shout at the sudden presence of kinich behind him. his eyes widened. his face flushed brightly. his words quickly registered into his mind before shaking his hands in defend. 

“wha-wha-what are you ta-talking about?” (name) cursed mentally for his nervous stutter, his (colored) eyes looked anywhere but at the saurian hunter. 

“that longing look in your eyes… noticed it for a while now.” kinich answered, uncrossing his arms as he took a step closer to (name), who instead took a step behind. and they continued for a bit until his back met the tree, kinich never breaking eye contact. 

(name)’s brows furrowed, his anxious gaze staring down at the ground beside him. a hand went into his pocket where the bracelet was, trying to see comfort from it. 

getting no response back, kinich tilted his head as he leaned his face closer to (name). he was a few inches taller than him, finding the little height difference endearing. “started noticing it after the first month you stayed in the canopy. the way you have this yearning look in your eyes. they’re always set on me. you wouldn’t even flinch whenever i caught your stare.” oh, no. (name) inwardly groaned. he must have zoned out as he stared openly at the claymore wielder. the merchant wanted to dig a hole and died in it out of embarrassment. so kinich knew for half a year. how humiliating. 

“i-i didn’t mean to… i’m sorry. i just, um.. I…” (name) was at a loss for words. he was sure his face was as red as those dendrobiums that appeared around the shipwrecks in nazuichi beach. his heart beat so fast, he was afraid it was going to burst out of his chest. part of him hoped so to avoid this worst-case scenario. 

kinich shook his head at the unfinished apology. “there’s no need to say that.” he started, his own gaze now looking at the tree behind (name)’s back. “i’ve…been having the same longing look, too… towards you. for a while now.” kinich said, pulling himself together to look into (name)’s eyes, after said seller found the courage to do so too. he stared down at the other with a small intense look in his eyes before shifting his gaze back towards the trio he left behind. “i’m not busy right now. ajaw is busy with a couple of behavioral teachers right now, so… would you like to take a walk back to the canopy?” kinich offered his arm towards (name). The electro user stared at him in shock before smiling timidly, taking his arm in his own. 

“that will be lovely.” (name) had a feeling wayna would be too surprised the moment they arrived at the tribe. his smile grew a bit, already feeling the teasing miles away. at the very least, things turned out in a good light, unlike what his overthinking mind had clouded inside his head. (name) was happy with this outcome.

[blackynsupremacy]

LOST IN YOU

pairing: nicholas chavez x black!reader x cooper koch

summary: as their new co-star on an upcoming project, nicholas and cooper are swiftly captivated by you.

inspo: how them dudes from tvd act around kat graham. also, when actors work with niecy nash.

contains: mostly fluff, cuteness, a bit of suggestiveness, mention of filming an intimate scene, the boys being simps, the boys are lowkey smitten, the boys are clingy, mild swearing, reader is an actress, this can be perceived as platonic or romantic, it’s up to the reader.

taglist: @supaprettyg @austeenbootler @greengoblinswifey @hoffmansgirl @oscarisaackissmykitty @hnch33rios @titsout4nicholas @niteskysx @miguelspvssy @thabiddie23 @venic-bxtch @sheydnni @sabrinasopposite @hopefully-saturn @jkr820 @simply-lovley44

• you were an upcoming actress with a few small roles and obscure movies under your belt, but now it was time for your big break!

• you were casted as the female lead of a psychological romance drama. you know those scenarios of when there’s a little devil and angel on each shoulder? it was based on that concept, but your character is a woman entangled in a sensual, conflicted relationship with the assigned angel and demon that serve as her conscience and her morals are deeply affected.

• you were so pumped when you got the call confirming your role.

• on the first day of the table read, you finally got to meet your opposite co-stars, nicholas chavez and cooper koch.

• nicholas was casted as the demon, while cooper, the angel.

• as a true crime fan, you were geeked as you’ve seen their recent project on netflix.

• and maybe a couple of edits on tiktok, but that’s besides the point.

• you had to contain yourself because they were both so tall and even more handsome in person.

• when you walked in, cooper found you to be absolutely adorable.

• nicholas was a little bashful because he didn’t know you were gonna be a stunna’!

• it was more than just your beauty, your overall vibe was amazing.

• they were so friendly towards you and welcomed you with open arms before the reading starting.

• you studied your character with such precision and once you read the first couple of lines, everyone tuned in as if the scene was rolling in real time.

• you went in.

• you had everyone at the table sold.

• the chemistry was off the chain as you read your lines with nick and cooper, there was an unspoken passion between all three of you.

• after the reading was done, it was time to go home to prepare for another day on set, but the boys caught up with you real quick.

• they obviously complimented you on your work.

• you all got to chatting and it wasn’t too long before they asked for your number and socials.

• when they saw on the gram, they’d put expected nothing less.

• you had some gems!

• of course, they hit like on some photos.

• “dude, is she even real? fuck!” nicholas commented to cooper while gesturing to your vacation photos that you took on the beach.

• they each took a selfie to put as their contact photo and typed their names in your phone.

• from that day forward, they stuck to you like glue everyday on set.

• as soon as you’d clock in, they’re trailing behind you, already asking about your well-being or if you need anything.

• “hey, how’d you sleep?”

• “have you had breakfast? i can get you something if you need.”

• “that bag looks heavy, here let me carry it.”

• or compliments.

• “you look so pretty, y/n.”

• “that outfit looks amazing on you.”

• “i love the way you did your hair.”

• “wow, you’re glowing!”

• girl, your face would be heated, but you always reciprocate the kindness which drives them crazy.

• they crave for when you give them hugs or they offer to hold your hand to guide you to a location on set.

• they find it adorable when you stand on your tip toes to peck them on the cheek or they’d lean down for you to do so.

• if you’re just standing casually next to one of them, he brings his arm around your shoulder to bring you in closer.

• they smell immaculate, so you don’t mind.

• total gentleman they are!

• every door you desire to walk through, they’re already there to open it.

• if it’s cold, a hoodie or blazer is already at your fingertips.

• when you film romantic scenes with them, you can feel that vibe with each of them, whether the cameras are rolling or not.

• you love cooper’s striking hazel eyes. they were soft and sincere.

• nicholas’ gaze was a warm brown, but it could darken or intensify if needed depending on the scene.

• nicholas is a pro at the triangle method. (look it up!)

• you play your role so well, you even get them flustered.

• prolonged eye contact or lingering touches with you during takes results in the most funniest of bloopers, but they eventually compose themselves and get back to work.

• and the kiss scenes…

• oh my god.

• the guys live for those, but they couldn’t be so obvious. cooper did his job and simply complimented your work.

• nicholas could get really into character.

• his kisses were passionate and hungry, it was only supposed to be brief between you, but you laughed a bit because the man couldn’t keep his mouth off of you even after the director said to cut.

• in playful jealousy, cooper teases, “nick, you gotta let her breathe, man!”

• feeling embarrassed, nicholas apologized to which you laughed it off.

• “i guess we were both enjoying it too much!”

• they were both so sincere and gentle during explicit scenes.

• kings of consent.

• “is it okay with you if i do this?”

• “if i’m hurting you, just let me know.”

• “i want us both to feel comfortable.”

• “it’s okay if you’re nervous, do you want a break, so we could start over?”

• they always maintained eye contact, despite your exposed breathtaking figure.

• after the scene was cut, they’d help put your robe on for you.

• the boys wanted to be in every corner of your life.

• your trailer was the chill spot for them!

• they just felt at ease in there.

• they could hang out and talk to you for hours if they could.

• when you sit on the couch with candy or a snack, one of them would lay his head on your lap. you found it so funny and adorable.

• “you smell nice.”

• “feed me?”

• he’s lucky he’s cute enough to eat some.

• they’re vibing to whatever playlist you have on. sza, meg, bey, kendrick, michael, whitney, prince, stevie, or usher. no matter what, they are vibing with it.

• especially old 90s and 2000s r&b.

• they enjoy watching you do your own hair or makeup. they’re impressed by your skill and how you take time to get the right look.

• it smelled like your perfume and hair products, so they were in heaven.

• they are never in their trailer except for when they were called for costumes, hair, and makeup.

• if you were taking a photo of yourself and one of them were walking by, they’re definitely jumping in.

• they like to either wrap an arm around you or like the giants they are, put their chin on your head or shoulder.

• or if you want to do a mini-shoot of yourself to post on social media, trust them to secure those photographer credits in your caption.

• you three have fun on set when you talk them into doing tiktok dances when you have a break.

• you taught them the simple dance challenge to jordan adetunji’s “kehlani”.

• you giggle and point as they spin to the beat as best as they could.

• you were getting so into it that you don’t notice their stares when it’s your turn, their eyes raking your figure.

• after you post it to your tiktok, your followers joke about how lucky you were to work with them and vice versa.

• they even joke about that the boys look so in love with you while you’re dancing in the comments.

• when you put your phone down, they’d take it and leave pictures of themselves on it.

• cute little momentos.

• speaking of pictures, the shoot for the promo was so much fun for you, cooper, and nicholas.

• to finally see your characters come to fruition made this all seem like a dream for you.

• you each did solo photos. then it was you with just nicholas, you with just cooper, and finally with both.

• no matter what pose you did, their eyes lingered. the camera loves you!

• when you each posted it on social media, you all received mostly love from the fans, but of course you’re gonna have a couple of trolls in the comments. you don’t even give them the attention.

• filming had wrapped up and the night of the premiere came. you were dressed to the nine’s in your designer dress. your makeup and hair was so on point that night!

• you, nicholas, and cooper all rode together and they could not stop showering you with compliments!

• they’re such gentlemen. when you get out the car and onto the red carpet, cooper travels in front you and nicholas, behind you for safety reasons.

• when you all pose the cameras, cooper and nicholas widely grin as they each take your hand.

• there’s even a picture circulating with you giggling in between them as they lay a kiss on each side of your cheek.

• when asked about what it’s like to work with you during solo red carpet interviews, they instantly light up at the mention of your name before they sing their praises about your talent, personality, and beauty.

• if you happen to walk by or send them a wave while they’re talking to a reporter, they get distracted and trail off.

• “ah, sorry! what was i saying?”

• the press conferences is where they really show out.

• you always sit in between them, so there’s no conflict over who gets to sit with you.

• nicholas would absentmindedly put his hand on your knee while cooper would put his arm around your chair.

• if it’s your turn to speak, they’re attentively looking and listening. by this point, you’re sort of getting used to their eyes on you.

• their attention to detail is nothing to be played with.

• if a piece of your hair was in the way or you were close to a wardrobe malfunction, they’d fix it instantly.

• or they’d just love to play with your hair or touch you in general.

• cooper was being his usual bubbly self, even more so when you give him a compliment during the conference.

• “stop! you’re literally the sweetest.”

• nicholas usually had a serious, focused expression on his face, but it switches so fast when you place your hand on top of his, give him a compliment, or make him laugh.

• “there goes that smile!” you say, chuckling.

• nicholas opens up about your work relationship.

• “i know that people joke about coop and i being in love with y/n, but can i just tell you that if you had the chance to work with her and get to know her on a personal level—you can’t help, but to fall in love a little bit! i mean, look at her.” nicholas enthusiastically claimed in the microphone gesturing towards you as you bashfully grin, the audience is hooping and hollering at his statement.

• “i can’t say that i disagree, she’s just a product of loveliness. the way she talks, walks, and carries herself says it all.” cooper chimed, turning his beaming face towards yours.

• nicholas speaks again, “it’s crazy because we all hang out all the time on set and even when she has to go off somewhere else, i sorta get sad and i’m just like ‘damnit, i wish i could talk to her for a little bit longer.’ that’s just how cool she is.” the crowd erupts into a chorus of “aw’s”.

• “oh, my goodness. thank you both! it’s always such a pleasure.” you reply with a humbling smile, but on the inside, you were tweaking as they both took your hands.

• butterflies are in your stomach.

• both cooper and nicholas were just adorable in the way they would hype you up.

• they stood right by your side when you were presented with your first emmy and when you gave your speech. you were about to burst into tears.

• cooper had a handkerchief ready and nicholas reassuringly touched your shoulder.

• you were grateful to work with people like them.

[musickgeek]

Happy (SDV Sebastian x Farmer!Reader)

945 words, unedited

Warnings: None

The first time you'd met Sebastian was the first Friday after your arrival in Pelican Town. You saw him bent over the pool table, lining up his shot. Your face got hot, and butterflies flew in your stomach. He looked so at peace, in his element. The small smile on his lips, and comfortable stance he took up. You were wondering how to introduce yourself, but Sam, who you'd met earlier in the day, waved you over. Nervous, you tried to walk over as casually as possible, brushing dirt and dust off your clothes. "Hey (Y/n), these are my friends Abigail, and Sebastian." Sebastian makes a shot, knocking a few of his balls into the pockets. Sam frowns, but quickly refocuses on introductions. He bumps Sebastian's shoulder with his own, almost teasing. "Sebastian, this is the new farmer girl." 

The dark haired boy looked at you, curiosity in his eyes. "Oh. You just moved in, right?" You nodded. "Cool." He pauses for a moment, as if thinking about it. "Out of all the places you could live, you chose Pelican Town?” You couldn't help the small laugh that came out. "I know it seems small and confining, but for me, some of the best memories of my life were made here with my grandfather." He nodded thoughtfully, accepting the answer. You found him to be so pretty, it almost embarrassed you. You'd just met the man for Yoba's sake! Oh well, you'd already decided you wanted to get to know him better.

~~~~~

You tried to speak to him every day, trying to figure out the things he liked. What do boys like him like? You came to an easy conclusion while in the mines. When you found a little piece of clear crystal. "You may think it's not much, but when in the right light," you moved it into the sun to show off how it glimmered, "it shows it's true worth." Just like him, you decided. And so your ventures into the mines became more frequent, finding colorful gems and crystals that Sebastian might like. 

You would walk in the house, scuffed up and dirty, but smiling widely. Robin would look at you strangely. You'd greet her cheerfully like you weren't bleeding and bruised before disappearing down the stairs to her sons room. She was confused for weeks until Sebastian asked her to build a shelf for him to display the fruits of your labor. 

~~~~~

"You know, I'm starting to think you're obsessed with me." He teased one Friday, you guys walking to the saloon together. "In your dreams!" It wasn't you fault, you thought. He was the one who plagued your mind with a late night motorcycle ride a few nights before. You found him working on his bike, and he suggested brining you along on time. You said you were scared, to which he promised to keep you safe. That moment played in your mind over and over like a broken record. You'd become a little clingier, and the fact that he'd noticed startled you. His phone chimed, luckily changing the subject. He frowned, and you asked what had happened.

"Sam isn't coming by tonight. He hurt himself on his skateboard earlier, and is stuck with Harvey tonight." Little did either of you know, it was a crafted lie designed by Sam and Abby to get you guys to hang out. "Do you know how to play pool?" 

"I get the idea, but I've never actually played. I don't know how to execute it, really." He gave his little smile that you adored. "Tonight is going to be interesting." He sped up, almost giddy at the idea of sharing his skills with you, leaving you to chase after him, laughing.

~~~~~

Your skin was on fire. His body had never been so close to yours. You could feel your face burning. You could feel his breath on your neck. His hand covered yours, his chest was pressed against your back. You could smell the woodsy scent of his room on him. To the other patrons, the act was innocent. He was just showing you how to line up a shot for pool. But to you, everything about this felt like carnal sin. You felt like you could pass out. The sound of the lively talk and music faded away, all you senses focused on him. Could he feel it too? You when for the shot, but were too distracted to make a hit. 

"You're even worse than Sam." He said, pulling away. "I'll just have to practice more." You insisted. "Oh, by the way, I found this for you." You pull the blue, teardrop shaped crystal out of your pocket. The shock on his face pleased you. He took it carefully, afraid of breaking it. "I really love this." 

"It's no big deal." You shrug. But he shakes his head, frowning deeply. "But it is, I know the lengths you have to go to for something like this, for any of the crystals you give me. You go down there all the time, risking your life just to give me some silly trinkets. I don't even understand why." Now you frown, feeling hurt. "I thought you liked them..." He realizes his mistake, and gets panicky. "No, I do, I really do! But...I like you more. Sometimes I wait at the rivers edge for you to come back. Just to know you're safe." 

You felt your heart pounding in your chest. What was he saying? "I...I can handle myself, Seb. I promise. I do it because it makes you happy." He looks down, and smiles. You so badly wanted to kiss him. "(Y/n), you make me happy." 

[ngayawneluoer]

playing with their hair

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ neteyam, lo’ak

you do their hair. that's it. just sweet fluffy domestic moments before I drop the angstiest fic known to man in a few days

word count: 1310

✧ Neteyam:

As you chilled on a peaceful afternoon, you noticed your lover looked very overwhelmed as he walked up and down around the Omatikayan stronghold with no particular direction. He probably seemed very busy to others, but you had learned to recognise his stressed pacing after seeing it so often.

"Neteyam!" You called for him, grabbing his attention. He looked over, a gentle yet tense smile blooming on his face. You waved him over to where you were lounging on the ground, back resting on a mossy rock.

He sat beside you reluctantly, though his leg shook with nerves to replace his nervous pacing.

"What's wrong, Ma Neteyam?" You asked, a hand rising to stroke his hair.

He sighed, leaning into your touch, "Just worried. I heard my father talking about a situation with the sky people, and I just feel a little useless."

"It is not all your responsibility, Nete. Everything will be alright; trust your father." You comforted, hoping your voice didn't let on how uneasy his statement had made you. This was about making Neteyam feel better; you didn't need to add to his worries.

You sat up on your knees to take a closer look at his hair. As you sifted through the braids, he looked up at you, a little self-conscious, "What?"

"Your braids are really grown out, love. When was the last time you did them?"

He blew a raspberry in thought, "Not sure… a while."

"Yes, I can tell," You said with a smile, "Wait here."

You kissed his forehead gently before getting up and scampering away in the direction of your tent, and Neteyam patiently awaited your return. He barely had time to think before you returned with a few small satchels and a wooden comb, and he chuckled lightly, knowing what he was in for.

You kneeled beside him, fingers fumbling to unbraid his hair.

You twisted gems and wooden beads you had made for yourself into his hair, and as you progressed, you felt his muscles relax, a low purr vibrating in his chest. As you finished off a few braids near the front of his head, he held them up to his face to examine the beads.

"Are these the crystals you found when you fell into the river?" He laughed, looking at the little purple gems you had made into beads and incorporated into his braids.

You rolled your eyes, "Yes. And here I am, lovingly using them on you even if you won't ever stop teasing me for it."

As you eventually finished the last braid, he shook his head experimentally, his braids swaying around. You moved to sit in his lap, smiling at his playfulness before grabbing his face and kissing his nose, "You look great, Ma Neteyam."

"You are so humble, aren't you?" He spoke, accompanied by a small laugh.

"Even without my expert braiding," You giggled, grabbing his hand, "You are the most beautiful."

"Not as beautiful as you, my love." He grinned like a fool, planting a soft kiss on your knuckles, "Now turn around. I want to do yours."

"Oh no," You said sarcastically but obeyed and twisted to sit in his lap.

In response to your quip he teasingly pulled on a strand of your hair, not hard enough to truly hurt you. You yelped and smacked his thigh lightly, but relaxed into his touch and allowed him to play with your hair.

His gentle fingers raked through your locks, soft strands slipping through his fingers as you sighed at the comfort. He was never the best at braids, but after you had done his hair so sublimely, he only felt it was fair for him to return the favour. He opted for something simple: two large braids adorned with beads and feathers. They were slightly wonky and not as pretty as the ones you had done on him, but you still beamed when you turned to cuddle into his chest and thank him.

"Thank you, Nete." You whispered, revelling in the intimate moment, "And next time you're stressed, come to me instead of pacing around like a lost puppy."

He chortled softly, head resting on top of yours, "Yes, ma'am."

✧ Lo’ak:

It was midday on a long day of exploring the forest with Lo'ak, and the two of you finally took a break from the fatiguing hiking. Your backs rested against a tree in an enchanting clearing, finally at peace for the first time since Lo'ak had dragged you away from the Omatikayan village that morning. To your distaste, it wasn't long before Lo'ak became restless.

"Alright, let's go," Lo'ak ushered, beginning to rise to his feet.

You grabbed his arm and pulled him back down, and he landed back on the ground next to you with a thud, "Honestly, Lo'ak, we just got here. Give me a moment."

He groaned but complied, head coming to rest on your shoulder. You lovingly nudged your head to his before pulling him down to rest his head on your lap. Your hands began playing with a few of his braids, and with your soothing touches, he finally seemed to unwind and shut his eyes.

As your hands ran along his scalp, you felt the fuzz of growing hair and noticed the sides of his head where he had previously shaved were noticeably overgrown.

"Lo'ak," you muttered quietly.

"Hm?"

"Your sides are growing out, love."

He hummed in response, eyes still closed, "I'll do them when we get home," he drawled.

"I can do them for you." You stated, but he only hummed, barely processing your words. For someone so previously eager to get going, he sure seemed very drowsy.

You pulled out your hunting knife, the only blade you had on you right now. Your finger touched its edge experimentally, and you determined it was definitely razor-sharp.

At that moment, Lo'ak opened his eyes to see you sitting above him with the sharp knife. He quickly sat up, startled.

"Nah! I know you are not about to shave my head with that knife." He exclaimed, voice sounding almost panicked. He was always very precious about his hair.

You let out a half-suppressed laugh, "It's sharp enough! And I promise I won't cut you."

"No."

"Please?"

He sighed, giving in to your pleading eyes, "If you scalp me, I will literally kill you," He said, though his threat didn't carry much weight as he laid back on your lap, facing away from you to give you access to the left side of his head.

It was going well, but when you put too much pressure, Lo'ak panicked, flinching away with a hiss. He slapped your knee, "What the hell are you doing?"

You scoffed, throwing your knife down to the grass to slap the back of his head, "What are you doing, you skxawng? I was doing fine."

He slowly felt around his scalp, golden eyes sharpened in a glare. When he came to the conclusion that he had indeed overreacted, he admitted defeat with a huff and returned to your lap.

"Just hurry up."

"You should be nicer…." You spoke, focusing on the task at hand, "to the person holding a knife to your head."

He snuffed and turned his head slightly to bite your thigh.

You yapped, pulling away from him to avoid slashing him, "Lo'ak! It's like you want me to carve a hole into your head!"

He slightly laughed, though he masked it to avoid annoying you further, "Alright, alright. I'll behave."

When you were finally finished, he sat back up next to you and felt his head. He smiled softly, "I guess it's not too bad."

You rolled your eyes amusedly, shoving his arm, "You're impossible."

He wrapped an arm around you, planting a peck on your cheek, "Okay, okay. Thank you."

[shemybitchhh]

𝕀 𝔾𝕠𝕥 𝕐𝕠𝕦☆

HEADCANONS of you taking care of injured Ellie.

<<Ellie Williams x Fem!Reader>>

☆Ellie, who the first time you two would talk, she would have a rather serious wound on her side. You, being the daughter of one of Jackson's doctors, were always interested in medicine and learned quickly from your father. "What happened?" You asked her, worried as you saw her clutching the side of her muscle shirt that had a huge red stain on it. "Nothing, mind your business." She told you coldly but you stopped her by grabbing her shoulder. "Aren't you going to go to the infirmary?" You asked and Ellie turned her head to look at you angrily. "You don't care what I do." You bit your lip, still worried. "If you don't let some nurse take care of you, at least let me do it."

☆Ellie, who from that day on would notice your presence in every place she went, and when she didn't see you she would look for you until she found you, without knowing why she needed to keep you in her sights.

☆Ellie, who would find you one day treating the wound of a little boy who was crying because of a scrape on his knee. "Shhh, easy little one. Everything's okay." You assured him as you gently disinfected the wound with a cotton ball. "That's it. You're very brave." You told him, making the boy smile a little. Ellie felt her heart warm when she saw that scene.

☆Ellie, who wouldn't know how to start a conversation with you so she would pretend to get hurt just to have an excuse.

☆Ellie, who would start asking you anything no matter how stupid it was just to hear your voice. "So, do you swab the wound with alcohol before bandaging it?" "What's worse, a knife or gun wound?" "Can I drink booze after antibiotics?"

☆Ellie, who would look for supplies during her patrols to surprise you. "Where did you get these?" You asked, looking in surprise at the empty blood bags and clean gauze she had gotten. "They were inside an ambulance a short distance from our checkpoint. Nothing out of the ordinary." She said downplaying it, when in reality she had entered an abandoned hospital full of clickers and runners completly alone, just to get them for you.

☆Ellie, who would invite you over to her room for the first time and you would end up reading her comics together.

☆Ellie, who would ask you what your favorite band is and a few days later a CD of it would appear on your doorstep. She would never take credit for it, although it wouldn't be too difficult to guess.

☆Ellie, who would invite you to have lunch with her in the dining room, after seeing that you were too shy to sit next to anyone besides your dad.

☆Ellie, who would stare into your eyes while you told her the plot of your favorite book. She wasn't listening to a single word that came out of your mouth. Her mind was lost in the vibrant and full of life color of your gems.

☆Ellie, who would tell you her stupid jokes just to hear your laugh.

☆Ellie, who would ask you to teach her first aid so she could take care of herself. Although she would never apply the theory since she preferred to go with you and have you take care of her.

☆Ellie, who would arrive from a patrol almost fainting from the number of infected she had to kill, and you would run up to her so that she could lean against you. "Shhh, easy, I got you." You whispered to her before she passed out.

☆Ellie, who would wake up exalted on the stretcher in the infirmary and the first person she would look for would be you. She would see that it was your father standing next to her, taking her pulse, and she would instantly be embarrassed. "I'll tell her you're awake and to come see you." Your father said with a kind smile, without Ellie having to say anything.

☆Ellie, who would accept your hug without second's hesitation after you ran in to check on her.

☆Ellie, who would start spending some nights at your house, listening to music, talking about irrelevant topics to pass the time, and sometimes even cooking with you.

☆Ellie, who would stare at your lips while you chewed the chocolate she had brought you as a gift. "Want some?" You asked, extending your hand with a generous piece.

☆Ellie, who would act without thinking and would pull you towards her by your outstretched wrist and kiss you, tasting your chocolate-flavored lips.

☆Ellie, who couldn't stop telling you how beautiful you are, loving how you looked away with an involuntary blush.

☆Ellie, who would promise to take care of you from everything, just like you took care of her when she got hurt on her patrols.

☆Ellie, who would hug you from behind with her folded hands after you disinfected her knuckles for the thousandth time, and would fall asleep smelling your scent and pressing you against her.

☆Ellie, who would let you know how important you are to her. "I got you, love."

[mirohlayo]

MOONSTRUCK | LN4

moonstruck (adjective)

unable to think or act normally, especially because of being in love.

( you just made lando loose all his senses )

warning : none, fluff

word count : 886

note : looks like an etablished relationship but no, just lando crushing on you lol. wrote something short for this one bc i think it suits much better. also kind of related with wonderwall post.

!! english not my first language !!

a great race.

it was such a perfect day. time seemed to stop for a while, like people had to enjoy every single minutes of this unreal moment. ends of races were often filled with happiness and a sense of pride always won over fans and racing teams. it was the amazing sport of formula one.

the drivers always celebrated their podium. with friends, race team, engineers, family and any others close people. it was an overload of joy mixed with lot of positive emotions, and these were such precious moments that must be cherished at all costs. but not everyone has this chance. this chance to say you did a great job, to say you drove well. when you feel like you're just not good enough. your being hurts you so much as if you were stabbed everywhere. no one wants to feel like that. and luckily, that wasn't the case for lando.

he did an amazing race. a fantastic job. as soon as he jumped out of his car, his race team congratulated him and praised him for his podium. p2, that's just incredible for the mclaren team. and of course, oscar was proud of his teammate. just like you. you were so proud of lando. you never stopped believing in him, you were always the one to cheer him up. that's why today he hugged you a bit longer than usual, his arms wrapped you tightly against his warm body. in that moment, everything seemed perfectly perfect. the rays of the sun dazzled only you two, in each other's arms, like a reunion of two souls who had been separated for far too long. it felt just like him and you against the whole world.

and with heavy hearts, the pilots had to separate from their favorite person to return to the one final task : post race interview. so as did lando. he gave you a soft smile filled with an amount load of love and let you out of his embrace. he took place in front of the interviewer, and kept his concentration for the race questions. the spot was that the mclaren team was still in front of him a few meters further, so he could still see the people he loved celebrate the efforts of both mclaren drivers. he saw lots of wide smiles, sparkles in all eyes. everyone was still cheering and lando's heart felt full of happiness and love.

his mouth was speaking words, answering bunch of questions about how was the race and stuff like that. a noisy background, filled with laughters and cries accompanied deep lando's voice as he was still talking to the interviewer. his eyes scanned everywhere, sort of a habit he have every times it was post race interview time. he looked from the mclaren engineers to his tired but proud teammate, from the fans of the paddock club to the others drivers. and then he saw you. your person.

his gaze immediately softened, as if he had found reassurance in you. his eyes laid on you so effortlessly because every time a weird but pleasant sensation seized him, as if he was hypnotized by a stunning thing. you were shyly laughing with his manager, charlotte. a crystal clear sound escaped from your mouth which turned into a beautiful smile. the way your eyes slowly squinted, shiny sparkles in them, your cheeks' lines came out and embellished even more your face. your perfect side profile that lando's couldn't help to look at. the sun rays colored your skin in an orange-pink shadow. now it seemed like the world stopped. he captured an unreal moment of you. wow. you just looked like a goddess. a pure gem he wanted to chase after and keep it for himself. and just with this glimpse of you, he started to loose all his senses.

now he was stuttering. he acted clumsy, saying dumb and incoherent things. he stammered on his words, let little "huhh" "hmm" out of his mouth while he was thinking about what he have to say. but he couldn't think because now all his attention was on you. nothing came into his mind but only this picture of you. he even started blushing and a shy smile took place on his lips. god why he was so fucking lost every times it comes to you ? it's just unfair how much effect you did to him. but soon the interviewer finally saw his awkward position and finished quickly the interview.

then he ran to join his team, especially you. you turned to face him, and without any hesitation you hugged him tightly. because it is never enough hugs. oh how his heart craved for your touch. your body pressed against him, your breath on his neck. he was for sure so in love with you. and whenever you would ask him why he acted so clumsy around you, he always had the same answer. "you just stress me that's all" he would shrugged. but actually, the most correct answer would be "i just don't know anymore how to act normal because of you, your person and your presence. because after all i think i'm just a bit too much in love with you".

yeah, it was the perfect answer. and that without any doubts.