#blah blah so handsome i hate him blah blah

[maximura]

[agniyagrif]

Idk how about you but for me personally every vampire is ace until said otherwise

And Shilo aroace because yeah

Idk, i just wanted to share)

[kenananamin]

Who's the better blonde?

Summary: Nanami gets jealous after hearing you talk about Howl Jenkins Pendragon so much. fluffy, jealous nanami, nanami x fem!reader, more fluff

It had been years since Nanami watched Howl's Moving Castle. You mentioned the Studio Ghibli Fest where your local theaters are showing different Studio Ghibli movies for the second half of the year and Nanami bought tickets to your favorite movie featuring a huge mechanical moving castle.

The movie started out great... until the character who's name is in the title appeared.

The whole car ride home, Nanami listens to you ramble about Howl. Howl this, Howl that, Howl treated Sophie like this, blah blah blah. Nanami has always loved listening to you speak, he thinks you fill his silence that he himself has never been able to fill. But he will admit, he can do without so much Howl specifically.

Nanami could not remember the last time he sulked so much. He hated to admit it, but he was sulking. Your girlfriend is thinking about another man. Maybe I should let my hair grow a bit. He's not that handsome, I look better... and older. Nanami can't help the invasive thoughts. He's not insecure about anything regarding you or the relationship, but if a man just like Howl existed, would he have a chance against him?

He parks and goes around the car to open your door. You step out and hold his arm as you always do when walking next to him. As soon as you hear Nanami close the front door, you latch yourself onto him and begin to kiss him to Nanami's surprise. You would often initiate kisses but he really needed this one and maybe you could tell?

He gently parts his lips and allows you to take the lead to begin this kiss. Well, it's not like Howl could ever do this or ever see you squirm because of him, Nanami thought. Nobody else can make you giggle or knows exactly how much honey you like in your tea. Nobody else sends you videos that make you fold in the loudest cackling that can sometimes sound like a yodel.

Nanami backs you up to the kitchen counter and lifts you up. He breaks the kiss and gently laughs, "Can I admit something ridiculous?"

You hum against his neck, not stopping your physical expressions of love and pulling him closer to you.

"I was slightly jealous..." he hesitates but continues, "over a fictional character and the effect Christian Bale's voice had on you throughout the movie."

You pepper soft kisses on Nanami's jaw and pull him down to kiss the tip of his nose. You wrap your legs around his waist and look him straight in his eyes, "You shouldn't be too worried," you move your lips to be an inch away from his and whisper, "you're the better blonde."

Nanami laughs and holds your face in his hands to whisper back, "That's my girl."

You giggle in response and Nanami knew he was right about being the only one to make you giggle that way.

Maybe I should get tickets for the next few movies too...

a/n: i LOVE nanami and i LOVE howl. it's like a battle of the blondes lol

[monst]

Day 5: My heart is in your hands but I don't know where we stand

Edging | Bruce Wayne

Warnings: 18+ content (MDI) Gn. Reader, Vigilante Reader, Edging, Penetration, Hurt/Comfort, Wishy-washy Bruce, This can be any Bruce you want but the time frame is early to mid-thirties when Dick is Robin. Why? Because he hasn’t learned to trust others, and I want that relationship angst. 

Wc: 1.5k

   “Again” he demands. You groan, You've been running the same drill ad nauseam something something till it’s second nature, god you really don't care anymore. Your limbs feel like jello, all you wanted was a goddamn shower and a couple of minutes hours on his fancy massage chair. “I said run through it again.”

     “Seriously?!” You frown, “I've done it like a billion times already and that last run was good!” You protest. 

    “Good?” You're not facing him but you can feel the unimpressed quirk of his brow. Your eyes roll knowing an increasingly nitpicky report is coming. “You over-rotated the spin, which could result in your enemies using that opening to strike you down. This is what happened last time, and you were out of commission for a month, that amount of setback can cause unmitigated blah blah blah blah blah blah blah” Whatever he was saying you tuned him out Charlie Brown style, the incident was still fresh in your mind you didn’t require a recounting.  “Are you even listening?! I'm not the bad guy here I'm doing this for your sake, you asked for this training.” He sounds off. 

       You dug your nails into your palms and bit your tongue. It was all you could do to stop yourself from raining hellfire upon him. Of course, you’d asked for this! How else were you to see the asshole?! Especially since the result of the injury led to his ‘unmitigated’ distance. You were justifiably crossed, but he had burrowed too deep into your heart for you to carve him out entirely. An olive branch. 

    “Ugh, I know Captain Hardass, how about you chill out I’m only taking a two-minute breather.” Coworkers that’s the new nature of your relationship. He eagerly accepted you back into his home under the guise that he was only helping you hone your skills, overexerting you on purpose claiming it was because he knew you could be better. Because the sight of his quiet panic at you gurgling on your blood certainly had nothing to do with it. He was frustrating and you were tired of the hurt he caused with his fickle moods. One day casting his line, the next reeling you back in. The fact that you sought him out first this time was irrelevant.

    You stood back up with a sigh, you knew that regardless of your extensive skillset he’d rather call Robin to aid him. Never mind the fact that Dick was in New York. Never mind that you were equally as good as the boy, that you were here, you were in Gotham, you were with him. You wished he trusted you more. Trusted your abilities. Trusted you not to be another grave he’d have to bring flowers to. Another ghost that clung to him. Another Silver Saint Cloud, You were aware of his reservations but damn if it wasn’t unfair! But fair and the life of a vigilante rarely went hand in hand so you stifled your feelings and launched yourself at the uncaped crusader. 

    The breath was knocked out of you and you were caught in a brutal frontal key lock. You were forced to tap out, Bruce released you but stayed hovering above you. His smooth lips were parted, soft pants ghosting over your face with every exhale. Sweat dotted his brow and slicked his displaced lock, and you’re blood thrums in your veins, you weren’t triumphant but he’d had to work to pin you down. His eyes flick down towards your grinning lips, shooting back up to bore into your eyes. 

     His usually stormy grey eyes were tranquil and you felt a flash of irritation at the look he was giving you. You wanted to hate him, and his stupidly handsome face, it would be easier if you did. But he’s looking down at you with regretful delicacy. Whoever said he was hard to read hadn't looked at his eyes for long. But you hated this fruitless tango his constant fluctuation in staying away and keeping you close. It was exhausting but... you also couldn't stay away. Drawn to the man with predictable mood swings one second pulling you closer than ever the next shuffling you away so he doesn't have to witness the reality of your dangerous profession. The hypocrite.  

    He knows you won’t move away but his full weight imprisons you against the mat anyway, the heavy corded muscles were hot and heavy on your skin. His strong hands pin yours down onto the mat, thumbs under your jumping pulse, all-consuming as he drew near. Suffocating in his stature and like an asteroid to a planet his magnetism was drawing you in, smooth lips left wet by his tongue, hooded eyes begging you to bend, to forgive him and steal that kiss that would rekindle what he’d tossed away in his ever consuming anxiety. To dampen the growing fire you turn away from the intensity of his gaze. The blue glow of the bat computer in your line of sight as you sigh out. 

     “You said that this wasn't what this was going to be anymore” Your tone was bitter. “Remember you said that.” You tack on driving it home that it was him that drove this unnecessary wedge. 

   “Well, I was wrong.” You look back at him stunned. You almost think he isn’t your Bruce. But, the way he eyes the length of your neck, pupils pinpointing the exact spots that get you to squirm let you know he was yours and that he was eager to be forgiven. 

   “Were you?”

   His pretty steel eyes looked down at you, his thick brows upturned in remorse. He won’t say it again you know this and you rolled your eyes with a huff. Bruce's tiny grin is reverent, relieved. 

    “I'll make it up to you.” And you feel the heavy weight of his cock against your stomach, feel how it grows against you and you ache. But before you can resume this dance with him you need him to be clear.

    “Pick one” you whispered “You either let me be yours or I walk away I can't- " You want off this rollercoaster, you want stable ground. “Trust that I can take care of myself.” You plead.

   “I do,” You feel his hands squeeze just a little tighter before he continues “I just don't trust that I can handle losing you.”

     Oh, This man was so unfair. You had held out for a moment still wary, but his earnest blue eyes had been oh-so convincing and your resolve crumbled...

      Your eyes rolled to the back of your skull because of course training had divulged into this again. It always had and you had a feeling it always will. You were in a hold you had no desire to free yourself from, keening into the vast cave as his length worked itself in and out of your tight hole. He was everywhere, his hot mouth devouring your cries, greedy palms kneading at your flesh. He was an expert at dismantling your body, eager to break you apart, to watch your eyes mist as he reached deep inside of you, to watch your lips part as you called his name. You knew how quickly he could build you up and take you down which was why you whined petulantly when his fingers stopped stroking your sex. 

    He repeated the action more times than you could count, his thick cock splitting you as you struggled for air, each pant followed by the zipping current of pleasure as he canted his hips into you. He’d work you to a crescendo, letting you teeter over the edge for just a moment before pulling back to hear you sob. “T-thought you w-were making it up t-to me.”

    “I am.” He grunted, his palm coming to the back of your head to pull you into a languid kiss, pulling back just a bit to let you see the glaciers in his eyes melt to tepid stone. And sighing into his mouth you understood. Bruce could be so endearing, that he ground into you slowly willing to drag this out to show you how sorry he was, eager to give you a mindblowing release. You gripped his shoulders when he sped up, allowing his head to dip into your neck his growing stubble tickling your throat as he laid kisses over the heated skin. Your name oozed from his lips trickling down your ear like honey. 

     “B-Bruce!” 

    Your bleary gaze caught sight of his pinched brows, you knew it wasn’t because he was close. With the way his eyes scanned your face, you knew he was worrying about the future and you didn't doubt that the crease between his brow would only settle into his face in a couple of years, you had a feeling you'd be there to see it set in. You knew that for his peace of mind, you needed to be stronger. Before he could recede further into his mind you squeezed down on him tightly, your fluttering walls bringing him back to you. 

   “C'mon I wanna cum” his grin is lazy yet appreciative but the way it curls a bit more to the left betrays his sudden mischief.

   “Not yet” He grunts, pushing your legs above your shoulders to fold you in half. “Hold out for a bit longer and we'll call it a day.” You gasp at the new angle, deeper, breathtaking, filling. He was such a pretty liar. 

Kinktober2024|Masterlist

[pyramid-of-starrs]

Don't Be a Sweat

Pairing: Gamer Yunho x Gamer Fem Reader

Genre: Smut & Fluff

Warnings: Sub Yunho, dom reader, fem reader and parts but no fem names, cum eating, exhibitionism, fingering, oral sex (fem receiving), unprotected sex (stay safe pls), cursing, if its anything I missed pls let me know.

Word count: 4.8K (one day I'll get past 4k lol)

A/N: First sub Fic, I think I did an okay job but let me know if you like it!

Minors dni

Smut under the cut

The door to your best friend’s room opens and you and her walk into it, you both plop down on her bed tired from a long day of socializing. You both decided to do attend a "group date" that the designated match maker of your friend group set up. 3 hours of karaoke with the lamest guys you think you've ever met it was so dreadful and boring, you would have much rather been home streaming yourself playing overwatch or the new PSN free games of the month.

"I know what you're thinking Y/N." Your best friend turned to you and said,

"And what am I think little Ms. Mind reader."

"You're thinking "God those guys sucked I bet they couldn't even beat me in a 1v1 on Minecraft." or something like that." you both laughed.

"Good effort but you can't 1v1 on Minecraft there is no fighting on it, Minecraft is-"

"Ah- spare me the nerdy details I hear enough gamer bullshit with my brother. Anyway, what the hell was she thinking setting us up with that pack of losers of the year." She laughs and shakes her head.

"Oh god did you hear the one ranting about all women wanting money." you joined her in her laughing.

"If you're gonna ask me my income you're gonna need to cook and clean blah blah blah go live in the fucking 50s then! Oh, and the one that hounded you when you told him that you're a streamer."

"I bet I could beat you at this! I bet you've never heard of this! Like gag me, literally."

You two started laughing louder at your impressions of the men, they truly were just that pathetic, but to you, every man was.

Being a streamer, you run into your fair share of overly misogynistic incels that hate you just because you like games and have a vagina but in reality they would crumble at your feet if they ever saw you. Hot women that play games make men angry for some reason and you wanted nothing more than to break them down . Beating them after they whine about how you're a terrible and only popular because you're pretty, always made you smile. It was kind of a sick enjoyment you got out of beating them but who care, sweats get no sympathy from you.

Speaking of sweats as you and your best friend were enjoying having a laugh you suddenly heard loud knocking on the door. Your best friend rolled her eyes.

"Ugh What!" she knew exactly who it was.

The bedroom door swung open and in walked your best friends twin brother Yunho. Yunho was also a gamer like you, very tall and handsome but you two have never seen eye to eye. Ever since the day you became friends with BF/N Yunho terrorize you. Calling you names,  embarrassing you in front of guys, making fun of your hair and outfits and just being an all-around bully. Eventually feelings became mutual, and you only put yourself around him to hang out with your friend but other then that you and Yunho couldn’t even have a conversation with out arguing.

“Can you guys shut the fuck up already? I’m trying to play squads with the guys, and they can barely hear me over you two.”

“Yeah, yeah whatever they will live.” Your best friend said while trying to wave her brother off.

You let out another giggle “You guys can barely shoot straight I’m sure we aren’t the reason you guys are losing, y’all just suck.”

You and BF/N started laughing together again as she slapped your shoulder.

“Ohhh Y/N maybe we should invite Yunhos friends over they are actually kinda hot and a few game like you, you’ll really like the really hot one uhm what’s his name- oh San!”

“Ooouuu, he sounds sexy, maybe we should invite them over.”

“As fucking if, my friends would never date a chick like Y/N.” Yunho rolled his eyes.

“And what the hell kinda chick am I Yunho.” You folded your arms and tilted your head ready to pop off at him.

“The kinda chick who can’t keep a guy even if he was locked in her basement because no one wants her ugly ass.”

“Now I’m ugly? Well, who dyed their hair Blonde just to get a girl that ended up fucking everyone BUT you.”

His ears and face turned red in embarrassment.

“Sis, you told her about that?”

“Yuyu, I had too, I wanted her to feel bad so you guys could talk, and you could finally tell her you like her.”

Boy if his face wasn’t red then it sure was red now, he even tried wiping the embarrassment off.

“What !? As if I would like some girl that spends all her time gaming and talking shit online like a fucking loser. I’d never date someone like her!”

“Good cause it’ll never fucking happen, maybe I should do what BF/N said and fuck your friend just to piss you off!” You stood up at this point, who the hell does he think he is calling you a loser.

“Fuck you Y/N!” He yelled before walking out and slamming the door, thank God Yunho and BF/N moved out and into their shared apartment so their parents didn’t hear the argument.

You plopped back down on the bed.

“God what the fuck is his problem? It’s like he hates my guts for no reason.”

“It’s just like I said Y/N, the boy likes you.” She yawned and stood up to change into her sleeping clothes.

“What? BF/N be serious here.”

She finished getting ready for bed and you got up to change into the shorts and shirt you brought with you to spend the night.

“I am being serious; he’s always liked you that’s why he’s mean to you.”

She got up and turned off the lights and got under the covers, you did too, you two faced each other.

“If you don’t believe me, ask him yourself tomorrow, good night, Y/N.”

“…night.”

You two eventually drifted off to sleep but your mind was still racing, did Yunho really like you? Isn’t that “boy is mean to the girl he likes” trope only in moves and poorly written fan fics? (Girl I’m trying my best)

Around 2am you were woken up by Yunho yelling, he was most likely playing the game with his friend, you could hear him faintly saying “Bro get him” and “Fuck” in the next room. You were going to go back to sleep but decided to see if what your friend said was true because it was slowly eating you up. You got up and walked to the room next door and knocked on his door. You could hear him telling his friends he would be back and then he opened the door. He had on random graphic tee and some grey sweatpants; fuck why does it have to be grey sweatpants. His room was nice, the lights were out but the LED strips around his bed still lit up the room.

“Oh, its you, what do you want?”

“Um, well can I talk to you for a second?”

“I mean I guess…” he walked back over to the gaming chair that was stationed in front of his TV and sat back down.

You decided to sit on his bed on the edge facing the TV and there was a brief awkward silence before he broke it.

“You came to my room just to sit here and stare?”

“No…um…”

“Spit it out dude God, what’s your problem why can’t you be normal?”

Even with you trying to talk to him he just pisses you off.

“I heard you got the new street fighter game, lets play it.”

“What ?”

“Yea let play, loser has to do whatever the winner says.”

“What the fuck is wrong with you, no I’m going back to playing with my friends.” He picked up his controller and put his headset back on. You just couldn’t understand why Yunho was so mean to you, what you ever did or why he just woke up and chose to treat you this badly. If what your friend said was true then you needed to find out, tonight! While Yunho continued to play with his friends you took matters into your own hands and snatched his headset and controller.

“What are you-“

“Sorry, Yunho is busy he’ll get back on later.” You said directly into the mic then quit his game mid match.

“Y/N What the fuck is your deal?”

“Shut up.”

He sat quietly while you started up the street fighter game, you tossed him back his controller and grabbed the unoccupied one and turned it on.

“Now like I said, loser has to do what ever the winner says got it?”

“…fine”

“Good.”

You two selected your characters and the match started, 3 rounds, unlimited time. You and Yunho played while making random grunting sounds and shouting one worded taunt but even he couldn’t match up to your acute game skill. The match ended with you as the winner, and you raised your hands in victory.

“That was such BS.”

“Don’t be a sore loser YuYu.”

“Don’t call me that! I’m not a kid any more Y/N.”

“Whatever, since I won you have to do whatever I say now.”

“What do you want me to do.”

“Hmm…for now you have to sit next to me on the bed.” You said in a slightly shaky voice.

He arched his eyebrow but chose not to question it getting up from his gaming chair and sitting next to you on the edge of the bed. Your heart started to beat a bit faster, Yunho has never made you feel this way before but with the thought that he may like you in mind it made you feel a bit shy.

“Earth to Y/N, come on let’s go again.”

“Y-yeah okay let’s play.”

Why was this making you so shy, you aren’t that kind of person especially for Yunho, so why is the thought of him liking you driving you crazy. You had zoned out thinking and didn’t realize you were losing, by the time you snapped out of it you had lost the match.

“I thought you were supposed to be some awesome ass gamer, that was terrible.”

“Shut up! What do you want me to do ?”

“How about you play in just your bra from now on.”

You scoffed because you knew that he was doing this to embarrass you, you knew he just wanted to belittle you. Even if he did like you, he was still an ass, and you were determined to finally put him in his place.

“Fine you want to play it like that, say less.”

You took off your night shirt and Yunho looked back at the TV to get ready to play the next round. Round after round Yunho lost to you because you had to show him who’s the top gamer here. You kept his theme of stripping, and he was left playing in just his underwear, his face was red as a tomato, and he was flustered playing. The next round started, and he pulled the ultimate foul move of gaming, pausing to see the move list.

“Come on YuYu don’t be scared of losing.” You laughed at his embarrassment.

He growled lowly. “Shut up, why are we even doing this anyways?”

“I have my reasoning, so come on and lose like a champ.”

Your eyes focused back on the TV and before he could unpause the game to take his loss, a message from one of his gaming friends came up.

xX_CallMeDaddyMin_Xx: Yo, Yunho did you screw that streamer chick your sister is friends with finally lol.

You both read the message and before you both could react another friend sent another message; you realize it’s coming from the group party chat. You disconnected his mic but forgot to leave the party too.

__bl00dy__San__: Yeah, tell her how you always watch her streams, probs jack off to them to lmaooooo.

Before anymore messages could come through, he turned off the TV.

“Ge-Get out I’m going to bed.”

He was a blushing mess, everyone just kept outing his little secrets today, he got under the covers and covered his face, and you couldn’t help but giggle at him, he was so cute when he was shy, and you hated to admit it. You crawled up next to him, now was your chance to get some revenge.

“Come on YuYu, tell me if what they said was true.” You snaked your hand under the covers slowly, trickling down his leg.

“Leave me alone.”

“Do you watch my streams YuYu?”

“Go the hell away Y/N” he said in a muffled shy voice, you needed to tease him more now, this was your area of expertise. Once again you were used to toxic guys trying to come into your streams to harass you, but you had a love for turning those same yelling dickheads to whimpering messes, it gave you so much power, and to finally have that advantage over the same guy that has bullied you for years. You were going to enjoy this way more then you should, and so was he, you reached up and whispered into his ear.

“Why YuYu? Don’t wanna admit you like to watch me stream even though you hate me.”

Your hands reached his V line, you played with the band of his boxers.

“I-I don’t hate you…”

“Oh really? How do I make you feel then YuYu?”

Your hands dived into his boxers, and you found his semi hard length, you started to rub up and down the shaft slowly to really tease him. One thing you hated to admit about Yunho was that he was packing. You grew up seeing him in all kinds of clothing and sometimes would see the outline, but you’d rather choke then admit he had a big dick but now that you’re feeling it it’s undeniable.

His bit back a small moan at the feel of your fingers on him, his mind was racing, the girl he’s been madly in love with since they were snot nosed was in his bed feeling him up, how could he possibly function.

“….you’re okay I guess.” He continued to hide his face in the covers.

“No, no little baby, I need a better answer then that, or do you just want me to stop and leave.” You stopped moving your hands but didn’t take them out of his underwear.

“No…please don’t stop.”

“Oh, you don’t want me to stop YuYu? Am I making you feel good? Is that why you watch my streams? Because I make you feel good baby.”

He didn’t respond so it was time to push these answers out of him, or more so rub them out of him. You gripped the base of his length and started to slowly pump his dick, he let out a soft moan at the sudden friction and it made your clit jump, you needed more and so did he.

“You…you look nice when you’re gaming.”

“Aww thank you baby but I’m asking you how I make you feel, so tell me that.”

Moving your hands up and down his shaft you directed your attention to his tip, pumping it tightly as precum slowly oozed out of it, you spread it over his tip the more you pumped, you wish he wasn’t so shy so you could watch his pretty pink tip be teased right now.

“Do I turn you on Yuyu? When I watch and degrade those guys on my stream does it make your dick throb? Do you wish I was talking to you?”

He could barely focus, the slow stroking on his length made him dizzy because the sensation was so strong.

“How about you let me see you Yuyu, let me see you fall apart for the girl you claimed to hate all these years.”

You pull the cover back and pull his dick out of his boxers, his dick was red and ready to burst, the tan shaft had pretty veins bulging on it, he had some girth, but the length was something to look at.

“Wow Yuyu your dick is so pretty for an asshole.”

He covers his face and looks away from you, he didn’t know rather he wanted to disappear or cum, your teasing was so sexy, but he didn’t envision the first sexual encounter with you going like this, but he wasn’t mad at it either. You started to pump his dick even more and moved down to it. As you pumped his dick faster, he bit down on his lips hard.

“Don’t hide YuYu let me see what you look like when you cum, is that what you want baby? You want to cum for me like a desperate little slut?”

“…yes…please…”

“Please what baby?” You kept a steady pace as your grip tightened a bit.

“…please let me cum for you Y/N.”

You grinned a bit at his begging.

“Show me Yuyu, show me how you touch your self when you watch my streams.”

He was shy but he was desperate, he sat up and you removed your hand from his needy dick, and he replaced it with his own. He avoided your gaze, his whole face was red, and his eyes were low, he wanted to cum for you so bad it was driving him crazy. He started to pump his sensitive cock, throwing his head back onto the LED lit bedframe, breathy moans coming from his plush M shaped wet lips.

“Ah…Y/N…please watch me cum.” He tightly closed his eyes as he could feel his climax steadily approaching.

You had a lustful yet evil smile on your face.

“Of course, baby I’ll watch you stroke your slutty dick all night if you want me too, but I want to see more baby so don’t cum just yet, okay?”

He opened his eyes, his vision was hazy, his climax was right on the horizon and having him hold it only made it worse.

“Please…please let me cum for you Y/N” his grip on his shaft was firm as he continued to fall apart under you gazes.

“Mm well since you ask so nicely and you’re so desperate, go ahead and cum for me Babyboy.”

His moans were soft but got louder as his strokes became faster until his came. He shot hot ropes of cum from his throbbing cock, he continued to pump as it shot out and landed on his legs. His chest puffed in and out as he held his dick in his hands, he tilted his head on the side of the headrest of the bed. You giggled at his fucked-out state.

“You’re actually so cute YuYu.” You gathered up all the cum that came out onto your fingers, his eyes opened to see what your next step was. You put your now cum covered fingers into your mouth and sucked all of it off as he watched.

“Come on Yuyu, I want to play some more.” You sat on your legs and reached behind you to unclasp your bra, when you removed it Yunhos eyes was glued to your 2 mountains. You took it a step further and removed your shorts and underwear. Yunhos breathing spiked again and his softened rod started to rise once again.

“Do you want to touch me Yuyu? Go ahead and touch me wherever you like.”

He eagerly nodded his head and reached out both hands and gripped both your breast, he started to massage them.

“Ah~ that feels so good, touch me more okay Yunho.”

He brushed his thumbs over your nipples, and you moaned even more, your aching cunt became hot as you threw your head back.

“Ca-can I kiss you?” he shyly asked.

“Of course, baby.”

He didn’t waste another minute and planted a hot kiss on your lips. You’ve had sex with plenty of guys before and kissed lots of them, but this wasn’t like any kiss you’ve ever had, this kiss had dept and meaning to it, however now that you realized it, this whole moment felt so sensual. His touch on your breast gave you goosebumps and his tongue entering your mouth made you want him even more, you never realized just how much your body yearned for Yunho until now. Your tongues were doing an elaborate dance before he disconnected your mouths.

“Y/N…I need to taste you please…” Before you could even respond he pushed you down and got between your legs.

“You’re such an eager little baby, you want to taste my pretty little pussy that bad?”

He once again nodded eagerly, the look in his eyes looked like he wanted to literally eat you. You decided to give him what he is craving, and you spread your legs nice and wide so he could get a nice view, he leaned down and put his face inches away from your soaking cunt, he was so close you could feel the small breaths he was taking.

“It’s so pretty Y/N” Your face got hot at the compliment, one of the rare times he has complimented you and its about your pussy, you felt like melting. He licked one long stripe from your hole to your clit, then flicked his tongue on your nub, your legs flinched to close, and he swiftly brought his hands up to hold your legs open. He was eating your pussy like he was on death row, and this was the last meal he requested. Your back arched and staggered moans started to come from your mouth. He inserted one then two fingers into your hole, your pussy clenched and unclenched repeatedly around them as he sucked your clit like it was a lollipop. Your hands gripped his newly bleach blonde hair.

“You’re doing so good Yuyu, I’m going to cum on your pretty face if you keep going baby.”

“Please Y/N, please cum on my face, I need more of you.”

He hadn’t even entered you yet and he was already pussy drunk, he kept licking your core like his life depended on it. Your hips started to buck and you grinded down on his face, the feeling of his lips wrapped around your clit and his long slender fingers deep inside you, you had reached your limit. You came on his face, your clit throbbed, your hole started to squeeze his finger tightly, you had a firm grip on his hair, and he kept lapping up your juices. Over stimulation started to kick in and it seemed like Yunho had no plans on stopping anytime soon. You tried to push his face away, but he was stronger than you and kept going.

“Yunho! I’m gonna go crazy and wake your sister up, stop!”

He finally released your swollen nub from his lips and took his fingers out of you, he looked up at you with his face covered in your wetness, his eyes looked to pure and sincere yet the entire scene of him still having your legs spread wide was everything but pure.

“I’m sorry…I just need you so bad Y/N…”

“Then hurry up and fuck me Yuyu.”

His eyes gleamed like a kid that just got told he can open his gifts on Christmas eve and not Christmas.

“R-really? Oh my god okay let me grab a condom.” He excitedly got up and walked over to his dresser. He grabbed on condom from the top drawer, and you could swear you saw his invisible golden retriever tail wagging, he was so cute you giggled to yourself. He walked back over as he was tearing open the condom, he fully removed his boxers before getting back between your legs. He rolled the condom all the way down his length and lined himself up with your entrance.

“Are you sure about this Y/N? We don’t have too if you don’t want to.”

You reached up to cup the side of his face and smiled warmly at him.

“I want this Yuyu, please take me, I need you just as much as you need me right now.”

He leaned down to kiss you deeply and inserted the tip into you. You winced as your pussy began to stretch around his dick. He kept the slower pace as you moaned into his mouth, his length just kept coming, it felt like it was never ending. Once he bottomed out in you, he stopped the kiss.

“Are you okay?”

“Yes, I’m okay baby, I promise.”

He stroked into you once. Twice. Three times. Then stopped deep in you and closed his eyes tightly as he held his position inside of you.

“What’s wrong? I told you I’m okay, you can keep going.”

“I-I know but- I’m not” a rosy blush covered his high cheeks bones yet again and that’s when you put two and two together.

“Yuyu did you…did you cum?”

“…yeah”

He pulled out of you and the condom was filled with his cum, he took the condom off in embarrassment and tossed it into his bedside trash You wanted so badly to tease him, but you couldn’t bring yourself to do it, instead you reached your arms out to invite him in for a hug and he gladly accepted it. He dropped down on your body, and you hugged him tightly, even though he just came his dick was still hard as rock.

“Are you still horny Yuyu?”

“Yea but that was my last condom.”

“So, you are a little slut huh?”

“Not now Y/N” he was still sad that he couldn’t fully experience his first-time having sex with you the way that he wanted too.

“…Are you clean?”

“Of course, what kinda question is that?”

“…well, I am too.”

“What are you saying right now Y/N?” He leaned up to make sure he was understanding exactly what you were saying, and he wasn’t just hearing what he wanted to hear.

“I’m saying…if you want to keep going without a condom…we can…I trust you.”

That was all Yunho had to hear, he leaned back down onto you, and you hugged him again, he reached down and lined himself back up into your entrance and slid his dick back into you. His ear was right by your mouth as you let out a throaty moan, he wrapped his arms around you, squeezing you tightly, pumping into your pussy slowly and deeply. You gripped both his shoulders and drip your nails into them.

“You feel so good inside me Yuyu it’s so deep.”

He started to pump into you deeply, his tip hitting your spot like it was a drum as he drilled into you. He groaned as the over stimulation and his soon approaching climax was rushing forward.

“I’m about to cum Y/N please cum with me.”

You dragged your nails up and down his back leaving red streaks up and down his back as he stroked deeply into you. You started to see stars; you tried your best to moan quietly but you couldn’t the feeling was too amazing. In perfect sync you two came together, you could feel the hot liquid deep inside you, thank God you were on birth control or you’d for sure be good as pregnant.

He still held you tightly and gave no signs of letting go, his dick softened inside of you.

“Yunho pull out so I can wipe up.”

“I want to stay in you forever Y/N, I love you so much.”

You couldn’t help but smile when he said that.

“I’m so sorry I’ve been so awful to you, it’s not an excuse but you drive me so crazy, and hearing about that stupid group date my sister dragged you too pissed me off so bad. I want to be the only one taking you out, I want to be the only one seeing you like this…” He kept going, just spilling out all these feelings he had held in for years, you felt like your heart was going to explode. As he was still talking, you pulled him into a kiss.

“I like you too loser.” You kissed him again and he slid out of you, you could feel everything seeping out of you, he reached over to his bed side table and grab a few of the tissues that were in the tissue box. He carefully wiped out your overstuffed pussy and threw the tissues away. He pulled the cover over you both and brought you in too cuddle.

“Yunho, I have to sneak back into your sisters’ room before she wakes up.”

The door swung open, and your best friend stood in the door frame with dark circles under her eyes.

“Too fucking late for that, I’m glad you two worked out your feelings for each other but next time do it quietly and when I’m not fucking home.” She slammed the door as she left, and you and Yunho just laid their giggling with each other.

[leviathans-watching]

Breaking the Ice

includes: diavolo x f!reader (she/her & you/your pronouns used, no physical body description)

wc: 14k | rated t | m.list | crossposted on ao3

warnings: cursing, more raunchy than my normal stuff (implied/fade-to-black sexual content), past raphael x reader

huge huge huge thanks to my three amazing betas for this @jeschalynn, @hyperfixat, & @fickleminder, you all seriously elevated this fic and i'm so grateful to you!!

a/n: i have been (slowly) working on this since NOVEMBER. you can't imagine how good this feels to finally post 😫😫. here's a guide to the boys' positions & numbers if you're interested and also where i go over some of the hockey terminology used within this fic! please remember to reblog/comment/etc., it's really appreciated! also blah blah blah creative liberties and suspension of belief. i'm also not a hockey experts so mistakes should be expected 👍

“Say,” he begins, “I couldn’t help but notice you had on a general jersey tonight. I’m surprised you weren’t repping Simeon’s number.”

“And have more rumors about our relationship spread? I don’t think so. Simeon hates when people think we’re dating, which happened for a bit with the CC Chols. Says it gets in his way when he’s trying to find a date.”

“In that case, how about I send you one of mine?” he offers, and you blink up at him.

“A jersey?”

“Yeah, how about it? You could wear the ‘C’ off of the ice.” His dark eyes are even more shadowed and immensely alluring.

“I suppose that’d be okay,” you agree nonchalantly, though your heart is pounding in your chest. You can’t believe the captain of the Devildom Dogs is flirting with you!

∙

Following your childhood best friend across the country after his trade to the Devildom Dogs—one of the most prolific AHL Hockey teams in the business—hadn't been the plan, but you can't say you're not liking it. Especially because the handsome and charming captain of the team, Diavolo, seems to be making it his new season goal to break the ice between you and get to know you better.

“And now,” the announcer’s voice echoes over the arena, egged on by the cheers of the crowd, “we welcome the Devildom Dogs out to the ice!” 

The sounds of blades scraping on ice fill the air, and the raucous cheering only grows louder. It should be no different from your old arena, your old team, and yet it is. 

Well, except for one thing. Person. As he skates out onto the rink to warm up, Simeon catches your eye, giving you a quick wink that’s barely visible through his helmet. You sigh good-naturedly, and he smiles. 

You and Simeon have been friends for as long as you can remember—since birth, if your mothers are telling the truth—and when he’d been traded from the Celestial City Chols all of the way across the country to the Devildom, you hadn’t really seen a reason not to go with him. Your work was completely virtual, and there hadn’t been anything really tying you to the Celestial City after your engagement had been called off. Honestly, though it kind of sucked that Simeon got traded to the biggest rival of the CC Chols, you have high hopes about this new city and team. 

A puck slams into the glass just in front of your face. You don’t jump. The boys on the CC Chols had always loved to mess with you and you were long used to things flying at you at what seemed like a million miles per hour. But it wasn’t one of the CC boys who’d sent that puck flying, and as you scan across the ice, you see it was one of the forwards, number one. Simeon had been kind enough to give you the down low on all of his new teammates, and you’d spent a fair amount of time pouring over the roster and memorizing stats, so it’s not hard to put a name to the number. Face. Whatever. 

Mammon, starting forward for the season, gives you a smirk then turns away, all flashy footwork and dexterous control. You pause to admire the way his jersey stretches across his back, and then the jersey itself. Damn, he looks good. The jersey looks good—you had designed it after all. 

You hadn’t always wanted to be an AHL jersey and logo designer, but through a combination of hard work and dumb luck, you are now the hand behind a myriad of teams’ looks, including the Devildom Dogs and the Celestial City Chols. Not that many people know about the person behind the designs. The average person is typically a lot more invested in the person wearing the jersey, not the one designing it, which is just fine with you. With the amount of money you’re getting, you honestly don’t need recognition. 

That paycheck allowed you to purchase the highest level VIP season tickets for the season, managing to snag the seat closest to the home team benches, meaning you’re only a few feet from the team. Simeon had laughed when you’d told him this, but you hadn't cared. Now you can make sure he heard you when you yelled at him for his playing.

As you wait out the warmups, you try to compare this rink with that of your old team. The biggest difference that you could sense was the vibe. Back at the Chols’ rink, the air had been light, filled with more excitement than anything else. But here, it’s different. There’s a bloodthirsty undercurrent running through the crowd, a cutthroat competitiveness that’s completely new to you. The fans are already bothering the opposing team, hurling taunts and insults their way, with the mascot of the Devildom Dogs, an iteration of Cerberus the three-headed dog, whipping the fans into an even crazier frenzy. 

And it’s not only the fans that are different; the players are, too. Even within the League, the Dogs have a reputation for playing fast and dirty, masterfully bending the rules without breaking them. You’ve always been impressed by them (not that you’d ever admitted it before, as doing so would have been treason to the Chols), but you’re kind of excited to be able to openly study and praise their skilled playing. Especially since you hope this will give Simeon the team that he needs. It had been clear to you, that he was a cut above the rest in the Chols. Not that that was a bad thing, but now you hope he can be matched, have the room that he needs to stretch his wings and fully use his talent without his team falling behind.

Before you know it, warmups come to an end. The non-starting players file back into the benches and you’re proud to see Simeon remaining on the ice. He’d been traded during the off-season, so it had completely taken you both by surprise to hear he’d be a starter, considering all of the veteran players on the team.

You stand for the national anthem, then finally, finally, the puck is dropped. The team they’re playing against today is one you’re not all that familiar with, and honestly couldn’t care less about, so you focus your attention more on watching Simeon play than you do the game as a whole. 

Due to the proximity of your seat to the benches you’re able to hear the chatter of the players, the coach barking orders, and even the signal to change lines. It’s a whole new experience. When you’d go to watch the Chols’ games, you were in the VIP lounge, which, while pretty fancy and awesome, was removed from the ice and the actual grittiness of the game. 

Plus, you never got a moment to yourself. All of the other wives and permanent girlfriends had always wanted to chat, and while they were pleasant enough, sometimes you just wanted to lose yourself to the game, yell and scream with the rest of the crowd. 

Simeon is on a line with Solomon, who’s a forward, and Leviathan, who’s a left-winger. He’s playing hard and well, proving he deserves to be on this team. You egg him on from your seat, making an effort to have your voice heard above the crowd. The Dogs are playing fairly clean tonight, and you wonder if it’s because it’s opening night. 

Or maybe it’s because they don’t need to play dirty. It’s clear they outclass the opposing team in every way, their insane training schedule paying off. The boys are blurs on the ice, and hardly ever on your side of the rink, as they’re pushing hard to keep the puck near the opposing team's goal. At least you’ll be able to see better when they switch sides in the next period. 

Simeon returns to the benches and gives you a grin, chugging water. You flutter your fingers in a wave, mouth twisting with a smile. Solomon, following his gaze, locks eyes with you, and you flick a glance between them before turning back to the game, determinedly not looking over. Your eyes are drawn to Diavolo and Lucifer, the defensemen currently on the ice. The other pair you’ve seen tonight, Barbatos and Belphegor, are good, but these two… they’re something else. 

They move in perfect formation, seemingly able to anticipate one another’s actions. You remember that Simeon had said they’ve been together since the Q, even were drafted together which is practically unheard of, and now you understand why. They’re menaces of black and red, and it would be a complete shame to separate them. There was even talk of Diavolo moving up to the NHL at one point, but after he became captain he chose to stay down. 

You watch as Diavolo steals the puck from under the opposing team’s nose, sending it neatly toward Lucifer, who delivers it right to Asmodeus. He, like the rest of the team, is incredibly talented, but unlike the others, he relies on speed and agility rather than brute force. You’d read somewhere he’d taken a fair amount of figure skating classes to improve his balance and form, and it’s really paid off. 

Asmodeus takes the puck all of the way down to the other end of the rink, passing to Mammon, who scores. You’re on your feet with the rest of the arena before you can think, cheering loudly. The boys do a quick celly then get right back to business, switching out with Simeon’s line. 

The players on the bench all slap Mammon on the back as he takes his seat, casual as can be. 

“You should have sent it to me,” Satan grumbles, barely audible over the din of the crowd and you unashamedly eavesdrop, not even bothering to hide your stare. Around you, the other superfans are still celebrating and their enthusiasm is infectious. 

“Whatever,” Mammon shoots back. “I got it in, didn’t I?” 

Asmodeus laughs, light and airy. “Barely.” 

“Can it, dipshit.” Mammon leans over and smacks him on the shoulder, and you notice he’s taken off his gloves. You smother a chuckle, then return your attention to the ice. The opposing team’s fighting pretty hard, but they’re clearly fighting a futile battle. Any time they manage to get the puck near the Dogs’ goal it’s quickly sent back across the ice, and the few rare times they do manage a shot, it’s easily stopped, mostly by the d-men or the goalie. It almost seems like the Dogs are toying with them, letting them get close to scoring and then removing the chance completely, then repeating the action. 

Frustrated, one of the players on the opposing team lashes out, dropping his gloves and rounding on Simeon. He dodges the clumsy blows easily, putting him in his place with a clean uppercut. The ref finally gets between them, taking longer than normal, something you’ve noticed from watching the Devildom Dog’s old games is pretty usual for their arena. They tend to let them go a little longer, which gives the Dogs a better opportunity to beat the shit out of the other players with beautiful brutality. The Chols had been all about good sportsmanship, so fights were a lot less common with them than the average team.

You wish you had been filming, but no doubt there will be videos online depicting the fight thanks to some other fan uploaded within the hour. 

Simeon is unscathed, but the other player spits blood across the ice, glowering at him. You let out a long whoop, and he half turns towards you, lips curving up in a small, feral smile. You can already see it—this change is good for him.

They both get a few minutes for roughing, but Simeon looks all too happy to be in the sin bin. You can’t help but snap a few pictures, throwing them on your story. The game resumes with more energy, with both the players and the crowd whipped up into more of a frenzy. The fans want blood, or at least for crushing defeat to be delivered, and it seems like the team’s hellbent on delivering. It’s a fantastic game, wilder and more energizing than you’ve seen in a long time, and you can’t help but be excited for the upcoming rest of the season. 

As the game draws nearer to the end, the opposing team pulls their goalie, but quickly puts it back after the Devildom Dogs score yet another goal, increasing the already sizable score gap. When the buzzer finally goes off signaling the end of the game, the away team looks utterly defeated while the Devildom Dogs celebrate. You catch a few curses and middle fingers shared between teams, and again, have to laugh. 

You stand and cheer with the rest of the crowd, reveling in the thrill of the win along with the team. Simeon’s in the center of it all, receiving congratulatory slaps and fist-bumps, and you know without a doubt he’s been accepted as one of their own. You’re a bit relieved—he’d been worried about not getting along with the others. Not that it’s necessary at this level of playing, but at his center, Simeon likes being liked and had been worried about how he was being received. 

Around you, fans start making their way out of the auditorium, and you follow, knowing Simeon’s going to go out to celebrate with the rest of the team. You feel eyes on you as you leave. You look over and make eye contact with the team captain, Diavolo, who gives you a half genuinely warm, half inquisitive smile. You tilt your head and smile back, slightly teasing, then turn away. 

∙

The walk back to your and Simeon’s shared apartment isn’t far, but it is a bit chillier than it is this time of year in Celestial City, so you’re grateful when you’re able to close the door behind you. You send off a quick text to Simeon telling him you’d made it safe, then just pause for a moment, digesting the game. The boys had played great, your jerseys had looked fantastic, and you were pretty sure you’d already caught the attention of some of the players. You’ll get to know them all eventually, or at least that’s what you assume since you’d been so familiar with the CC Chols, so you’re not too worried, but the image of that smile the captain had sent you plays in your head. It’s unusual for fans to be given attention like that, so you wonder if Simeon’s already said something about you.

Shaking yourself, you start your bedtime routine and change into more comfortable clothes. You won’t actually go to sleep for a while, perks of making your own hours and being a night owl, but starting it early never hurts. You also need to stay up for Simeon, as you know he’s going to want to tell you all about the game from his perspective. You’re excited to hear it, as well as excited to hear what hanging with the guys after is like. 

Time passes, and with no word from him, you begin to get a little worried. It’s not unheard of for him to come home late. If he were with the Chols, you wouldn’t be worried at all, but he’s in an unfamiliar city with unfamiliar guys, you’ve heard about the hazing horror stories. You uneasily move around the apartment, trying to convince yourself that you’re overreacting. Suddenly your phone rings, that familiar ring-tone carrying through the air, and you hurry to answer it, raising your phone to your ear. 

“Simeon?” you ask breathlessly. 

“Uh, not Simeon,” an unfamiliar voice says, and you jerk back, checking the caller ID. It is Simeon’s number. “My name is Diavolo, I’m captain of the Devildom Dogs hockey team, the one that Simeon recently joined. I’m not sure what all you know or who you are, but your name is favorited in his contacts, and I think Simeon needs to get picked up. I would drop him off myself,” he adds regretfully, “but I’m a little buzzed and don’t want to get behind the wheel.” 

“Totally understandable,” you assure him. “Is Simeon okay? What happened?” 

Diavolo sighs. “Solomon and Asmo happened. They’re two other team members and they love welcoming the new team members with open arms. And lots of booze.” 

“Are you saying he’s drunk?” you ask, finally catching his drift. “Simeon doesn’t typically drink much.” 

“Asmodeus can be very persuasive. And not like, black-out drunk, but definitely feeling it.” 

“I see. Well, what bar are you guys at? I can swing by to pick him up now, if you’d like?” 

“That would be great,” Diavolo sighs with relief, and his warm tone sends butterflies through your stomach. He gives you the location and you realize it’s only a few blocks from your apartment, easily within walking distance. You’ll walk there, and if needed, call a rideshare back. 

“I’ll be there in like, fifteen minutes,” you say, already pulling on your shoes. You look like crap, but honestly, you’ve never been one to care about things like that.  If Simeon’s drunk enough that you need to pick him up, you really don’t want to waste time. 

“Okay, thank you. And I’m really sorry about all of this,” Diavolo says earnestly. “I’ll be having words with Solomon and Asmo both about this.” 

“Don’t be,” you reply, a smile tugging at your lips. “It’s only natural they’d get rowdy after a win, and I’m sure you have your hands full with everyone else. I totally get it. As long as it’s not a repeating occurrence. I can’t come and get him after every game.” 

Diavolo laughs, deep and warm. “Yes ma’am. See you in a few.” 

You hurry to the bar, hand wrapped around your pepper spray. Though Celestial City has been pretty safe, you know that the Devildom is less so, but there are enough people still out that you don’t feel too sketched out. When you arrive at the bar, you walk in, scanning the room for the team. They’re easy enough to spot, and you make your way over. 

“No more autographs,” someone groans as you approach, and you realize it’s Belphegor, the d-man who plays beside Barbatos. 

“I’m not here for that,” you say, and everyone looks over. You only have eyes for Simeon, who’s slumped over in a booth, tapping away on his phone. “Get up,” you demand, poking him in the side. 

While he struggles to sit up properly, sluggish from the booze,  you lean over to Diavolo. 

“Hi,” you say, clearing your throat, “I’m MC. We spoke on the phone earlier.” 

“You’re the chick who was at the game,” Mammon crows, pushing himself next to you before Diavolo can reply. “It’s nice to meet ya!” 

“Yes, it’s nice to meet you too,” you say, taking him in. He’s tall and muscular, but nowhere as near as broad as Diavolo, who is honestly, a hunk of a man. 

“Thank you for coming,” Diavolo says gratefully. “I’ve been giving him water to help him sober up but he’s still tipsy. You got here quickly.” 

“Yeah, well, our apartment is only a few blocks from here,” you say with a shrug, pulling Simeon up to his feet.

“You live together?” Out of the corner of your eye, you see a flash of honey-blonde hair and Asmodeus as he speaks up. “Are you two married?” 

Before you can reply, Simeon laughs, and it seems like he’s starting to sober up a little. “No. Lord, no.” He continues to laugh, shaking his head.

You roll your eyes and clarify, “No, Simeon and I are childhood friends. When he got traded to the Devildom Dogs I decided I was sick of the CC Chols and followed. And it’s a good thing I did,” you say severely, turning your scolding to Simeon, “because look at the state you’re in.” 

“Please,” a smile tugs at the edge of his lips, “if you’d been here you’d be way worse off than me and we both know it.” 

Well, he’s got you there.

“Hey,” Simeon says, and it’s like a lightbulb has gone off over his head. “I just had the most genius idea. MC, let’s stay here for a bit so you can meet everybody.” 

“I’m not sure that’s a good idea,” you say doubtfully, and the boys all begin talking at once. 

“No, no, sit down!” Diavolo encourages you, and after another moment of hesitation, you sit. Simeon slides back into the booth, scooting further over so you have room, and you make sure to jam him in the side with your elbow ‘accidentally’ as you’re settling. He pinches your side in return, but since you’re in public you can’t retaliate like you would at your apartment, or even back with the CC Chols, who were familiar with your relationship. Starting the night by getting into a hissy slap fight isn’t the image you want to start off with. 

“Um, congratulations on the game,” you say. “You all played very well.” 

“Of course we did,” Mammon crows, “we’re the fucking Devildom Dogs!” 

“Mammon, be polite,” Lucifer, Diavolo’s d-man partner says, and Mammon makes a face. “Thank you very much,” he says, turning to face you directly. “I’m Lucifer, and this is…” 

Lucifer introduces everyone around the table for you, and you do yours when they’re finished. 

“So, MC, what do you do?” Satan asks. 

“I’m a logo designer,” you reply. Simeon rolls his eyes at your vague response but doesn’t spoil your fun. “I run a small design business out of our apartment.”

“You must be pretty good to be able to afford those seats,” Solomon points out slyly. “That is if you’re a season ticket member? I guess you could have just bought it off the actual member for the night.”

“So, you’re not successful?” Belphegor asks.

Simeon shakes his head. “No, she is, but she’s also really humble.” 

“Sure, humble,” you agree wryly. 

“Is there anything you want to drink?” Diavolo cuts in, leaning over the table to be heard better, but you shake your head regretfully. 

“Sorry, not today. One of us has gotta be able to manage getting us home.”

“Next time, then?” 

A handful of men have pursued you in the past, but he’s definitely the most charming, you think as he gives you a look both guileless and expectant. And you’re not opposed, so you laugh and agree, “Sure, next time.” 

“MC, was it?” Asmodeus purrs, and you turn to him. He knows damn well what your name is. “Are you seeing anyone?” 

“Ah, no,” you reply, and your mind flashes back to your ex-fiance. Your relationship with Raphael had been fun, but it was clear that neither of you were really interested in marriage, but the pressure took its toll. Honestly, your decision to move to the Devildom was a really good opportunity to start fresh. You were glad you didn’t have any reason to really see him anymore. “I broke off my engagement recently and I’m still trying to get back on the dating scene.” 

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Asmodeus says a bit awkwardly. You wish you’d given him a little less of the truth.

“Don’t be.” You give him a bright smile. “It wasn’t a bad relationship, we just realized that we weren’t compatible long-term and it was best to part ways.” 

“Kudos to you for having the balls to break it off, then,” Diavolo speaks up suddenly. “That must have been difficult.” 

“It was difficult at first, yeah,” you reply, “but it was the best choice and I don’t regret it.” 

“Enough of that,” Simeon cuts in, throwing his arm around your shoulders. He can sense your reluctance to fully jump into talking about your failed relationship. “I think MC wants to know more about all of you.” 

“That’s true,” you agree with a laugh. “A girl can’t help but be curious about the most notorious team in the AHL.” 

“What do you think of us so far?” Satan asks, raising one neat eyebrow.

“You’re all a lot nicer than the rumors say, for one,” you begin, and Mammon laughs. 

“Well, that’s because we like you so far. Believe me, if we didn’t, you wouldn’t be callin’ us nice.” 

“I’m almost offended,” Solomon says, putting a hand on his chest. “I’ve been described as a lot of things, but nice’? I deserve more credit than that!” 

“Well damn, okay,” you say jokingly, holding your hands up innocently. “I wasn’t trying to offend. I guess you’re all also a lot funnier than I thought. In my experience hockey boys usually aren’t quite as witty as you’ve been tonight.” 

“Was that an insult to hockey players?” Beelzebub grumbles to Belphegor, who nods seriously. 

“I think it was.” 

“Well not to you,” you say exasperatedly, and the honeyed laugh that you get from Diavolo feels like a win. 

The night goes on with info and chirps being swapped back and forth, and by the time it’s time to pack up and all separate, you feel like you’ve gained a lot through this experience. Your worries are mostly assuaged; you’ve gotten to know all of the boys at least somewhat, and everyone now knows you.

“Well, we’re this way,” you say to Diavolo, who walked you out. Simeon is still inside, paying his tab, so it’s just the two of you under the entrance lights. The city is dark yet still busy, and you’re glad to see the nightlife is what had been advertised, lively and entrancing. “It was really nice to meet you. Thanks for letting me hang out and meet everyone.” 

“We enjoyed your company,” he says smoothly. “Thanks for giving up your evening to spend time with a bunch of nice, witty hockey players.” 

“Oh my god,” you groan. “You guys are never going to let me forget that, are you?” 

“Nope.” His teeth glint in the light, standing out against his dark skin. He has a nice smile, you think to yourself before you realize you’ve been staring. 

He doesn’t seem to mind, though, if the interested expression on his face is any indication. 

“Say,” he begins, “I couldn’t help but notice you had on a general jersey tonight. I’m surprised you weren’t repping Simeon’s number.” 

“And have more rumors about our relationship spread? I don’t think so. Simeon hates when people think we’re dating, which happened for a bit with the CC Chols. Says it gets in his way when he’s trying to find a date.” 

“In that case, how about I send you one of mine?” he offers, and you blink up at him. 

“A jersey?” 

“Yeah, how about it? You could wear the ‘C’ off of the ice.” His dark eyes are even more shadowed and immensely alluring. 

“I suppose that’d be okay,” you agree nonchalantly, though your heart is pounding in your chest. You can’t believe the captain of the Devildom Dogs is flirting with you! “You can just give it to Simeon whenever it's convenient for you.” 

“Oh, no,” he disagrees, “I think I’ve gotta give it to you directly, you know, to make sure it gets to you safe and sound. How about you swing by one of our practices next week? I can give it to you then.” 

“I’ll have to check my schedule,” you say, knowing you’re definitely free. “I’m a busy woman. Popular, too.” 

“I don’t doubt that,” he recipes silkily, but before either of you can add anything else, Simeon appears, his suspicious eyes glancing back and forth between the two of you. 

“MC, stop your flirting so we can get home,” he instructs, and you laugh. 

“As if you’re not the reason we’re still here. See you, Diavolo.” 

“I’m holding you to that,” he calls as you walk away. “Next week, okay?” 

“We’ll see,” you return without looking back. You both know that means ‘yes’.

∙

Cracking your back, you push away from your desk, finally finished with work. The Devildom Dogs reached out to you and asked for a Veterans Day design, so you’ve spent the whole day brainstorming potential ideas for the jerseys.

You were glad they contacted you, especially since they were asking for a rush job which meant you were able to get them to sign a contract that would pay you a lot of money. Man, you love your job. And money.

“Done with work?” Simeon asks, poking his head into your room. Your apartment was pretty modest so your workspace was in your bedroom, and honestly, though it was kind of cramped, the setup was pretty sweet. 

“Yep,” you say, and he walks fully in, sitting on the bed. “Management of the Dogs reached out, they want Veterans Day jerseys.”

“What do you have so far?” he asks, and you spend a few moments looking at the designs you’d thrown together. 

“I really like that one,” he says, choosing his favorite, and you make a mental note of that. Ultimately, it comes down to the people you’re working with with the Devildom Dogs, but Simeon has pretty good taste and is usually right about which design will get chosen.

“How was your day?” you ask. They didn’t have a game or official practice, but you were pretty sure you’d seen him heading out to the gym earlier in the day. 

“It was good,” he says, flopping back onto his back, “but I’m tired. And I don’t want to cook.” 

“I don’t either,” you admit. “Takeout?” 

“My trainer’s going to kill me,” he grumbles but opens his phone and starts scrolling through the delivery options. 

“You rarely go off of your diet plan,” you dismiss. “Once in a while won’t hurt.” 

Within a few moments, Simeon’s placed an order at some sandwich place nearby. “Should be delivered within the hour.”

“Sweet.” 

When the food comes, the two of you ignore your table to sit on the couch, putting on the shows you’ve been watching. You take a moment to snap a picture of him, the TV, and the food, and put it on your Instagram story. 

It’s only a few moments before your phone buzzes and you see someone’s swiped up. 

Diavolo_14: Is that meal trainer approved? 

MC: What he doesn’t know won’t hurt him lol

Diavolo_14: I guess at least it’s sandwiches. Could be worse.

MC: And I convinced Simeon anyway, so blame me not him

Diavolo_14: Oh, I have no doubts about who’s responsible. What are you watching?

MC: Some dumb sitcom. IDK, Simeon and I just make our way through shows together for something to do

Diavolo_14: Jealous. 

MC: Of the food?

Diavolo_14: Of Simeon. I want to watch dumb sitcoms with you. 

“What—or who—has you smiling like that?” Simeon asks, leaning over to look at your phone. You turn it away from him, sticking out your tongue. 

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” 

“It’s Diavolo, isn’t it?” he asks, and you roll your eyes. 

“You better not try to warn me or him off, okay? We’re both adults and—”

“I literally do not care.” He gives you a sideways glance. “Unless he breaks your heart, of course. But other than that, do whatever you want.”

“Thanks for the heartfelt sentiment,” you say sarcastically, and he laughs. You’re so glad Simeon’s never been the overprotective type, as you’d definitely chafe under it. Over time, the both of you have mostly been a listening ear, only giving advice when asked, and it’s a system that works really well for the both of you. 

With a start, you realize you’ve left Diavolo hanging, and go back to the DM thread. 

MC: Is that so?

Diavolo_14: That is so. Now, when are you going to come to practice to get that jersey?

MC: Well, I was going to surprise you tomorrow…

Diavolo_14: And now I’ve ruined the surprise, haven’t I?

MC: Yeah lol. 

Diavolo_14: Well, you should still come tomorrow.

MC: Alright, alright, see you then

Diavolo_14: Looking forward to it, MC.

His words send a flutter through your stomach, and you have a hard time focusing on the show for the rest of the night, too busy thinking about one, handsome captain of the Devildom Dogs. Simeon chirps and needles you for it, something you let him do because you probably deserve it. 

“Whatever,” you finally say, standing up. “I’m going to bed.”

“Oh, yeah, get that beauty sleep,” he replies. “You need it.” 

Grabbing a throw pillow, you chuck it in his direction, making a hasty retreat to your room. 

It’s hard to fall asleep, but once you do, you have good dreams and wake up well-rested. Even though you’re really looking forward to Simeon’s practice, it’s not until the afternoon so you keep busy working on the Veterans Day jersey designs though your mind drifts more often than you’d like to admit. 

You’ve only known Diavolo for a few days, but things are just so electric with him. Sparks truly do fly between the two of you and his flirting makes you feel giddy, but your last relationship wasn’t been filled with lots of laughter so you feel like you’re entitled to it. You wonder if he feels this way too. Does he feel the connection? What does he want with you? Before you can linger on the thoughts, you stand, forcing yourself to switch gears.

“Ready to go?” Simeon asks when you walk into the living room, and you nod. You have your laptop just in case you get bored (which you doubt will happen) and you put it in the backseat of Simeon’s car. 

“This is so exciting,” you say, only half-kidding. “Behind the scenes with the Devildom Dogs. Do you think the others will mind me watching?” 

Simeon shakes his head. “Nah, I don’t think so. Everyone likes you and this gives them a chance to show off.” Laughing, he says, “I think they might like you more than me.” 

“That is so not true,” you argue with an eye roll. “They’ve only met me once. And how could they? Everyone has always gotten along better with you than me anyway.” 

“Yeah, because I’m not annoying as hell,” he says nonchalantly, and you send him a glare. 

“You’re so lucky you’re driving,” you threaten. “I don’t know why everyone always thinks you’re so angelic. You’re such an ass to me.” 

“It’s deserved,” he points out, and okay, you have to agree.

When he pulls into the parking lot behind the ice rink they use for practice, you waste no time gathering your shit and hopping out of the car. 

“Nervous?” Simeon asks, and you scoff.

“As if.” It’s a half-lie. Maybe nervousness isn’t the right word. It’s more like… anticipation.

Simeon leads you through the back doors to the rink, and you look around, taking everything in. You’re assuming it’s open to the public when it’s not in use by the team and that theory is backed up by the presence of a skate rental sign pointing down another hall.

“You can hang out on the stands,” Simeon says, pointing like you don’t already see them. “I’ll tell everyone you’re here and they can do whatever they want with that info.” 

You sit near the rink, but not directly in the front row, and mess around on your phone for a few moments. You’re expecting people to approach you from the ice so when someone taps your shoulder, you jump, looking behind you.

“Sorry, sorry,” Diavolo says, holding out his hands in a peace gesture. His grin is easy and just as attractive as you remembered. “Didn’t mean to scare you.” 

“You’re good,” you say. “I was just waiting for you to skate over to me, not walk.” 

“What I’m hearing is that you were waiting for me.” He does something with his eyebrows that comes off as insanely attractive and you wonder just how desperate you are. 

“Well, yeah,” you say. “I was promised a gift.” 

“That you were,” he agrees. “And I’m afraid you’re going to have to wait a little longer for it. I left it in my car and since practice is starting so soon I totally don’t have time to go and get it. Darn.” 

“Is this your way of asking me out after practice?” 

“Well, it was my way of asking to give you a ride home, but hey, that works too,” he chuckles, eyes sparkling with some positive emotion you can’t quite pin down. “As long as Simeon won’t get mad. I know you’re close friends.” 

“Him?” You laugh. “He won’t be, first of all, because neither of us really cares what either gets up to romantically, and secondly, even if he was, it would be none of his damn business. I’m a grown woman with my own agenda and I’m glad he’s always recognized that. Even when we were younger,” you say with a sigh, “he’d let me get myself into all sorts of scrapes and situations, then just smugly tell me it was my own fault. Nothing serious, of course, but out of the two of us I’ve always been rasher and he definitely uses that for his entertainment.” 

“Seriously?” Diavolo questions. “He seems so kind and nice. I have a hard time believing that.” 

“That’s because he wants you to think that,” you tell him darkly, and the laugh you get in return is glorious, full-bellied and rich. 

Not noticing your sudden stupor, he sighs, catching his breath. “Well, I better get on the ice. Duties of being a captain and all of that.” 

“What, actually having to show up to practice and set a good example? So hard.” 

“You get it,” he says, and you shake your head, unable to stop your smile. 

“Watch me on the ice?” he asks, beginning to walk away backward. 

“Obviously,” you say, “but Diavolo…”

“Yeah?” he begins to reply, then trips over a bench, stumbling to the ground. 

“...there’s a bench behind you,” you finish, and the gobsmacked look on his face is one you endeavor to remember, pressing into your memories.

The boys waste no time getting into the swing of practice, though you receive a few looks and waves. Their drills are intense and difficult looking, but they make them seem easy. Watching them makes you yearn to get back on the ice, a feeling you haven’t had in a while. Maybe you should see what days the rink offers open skate and pull yours out of your closet. 

Watching them makes you feel oddly nostalgic. Both for the Chols and for the rec league with Simeon. You’d played hockey with him through school, quitting in college when he’d been scouted directly to the Chols. You’d been the forward to his right wing, and though you’d never had the same amount of sheer talent as him, you’d been no slouch.

But as time went on, you’ve been satisfied with just watching. Marveling at the feats the Chols were able to do on the ice, rather than rush to attempt them yourself as you might once have. 

You’d been on the ice with the Chols a few times, but after the first year, the novelty had worn off. You’d shifted to the stands after your engagement, sticking with the other girls, and again, while that had been fun, you’re realizing now that you truly, sincerely missed the feeling of skating. 

The coaches hardly pay you any attention, and while you’d thought that maybe your presence would have distracted the boys, they’re all business, showing you a much more serious side than you’d seen so far. Discounting that first game, of course. 

Before you know it, the practice is halfway over. It’s going by way too fast!

“Hey,” Simeon calls from the ice, grabbing your attention. “We’ve got a five-minute break. Come down here!”

You roll your eyes but stand, crossing the short distance to the edge of the rink. He’s out of breath and sweating, clearly working hard on the drills. 

“What do you think, huh?” he asks, putting a hand on the board. 

“Yeah, I want to know!” Mammon cries, skating over and almost running into Simeon. “Cooler and better and more awesomer than the Chols?” 

“‘Awesomer’ isn’t a word, dimwit,” Belphegor says, clearly listening in on the conversation, and you laugh. 

“Way awesomer than the Chols.” 

“Glad you think so,” Diavolo says from behind you, and you jump. Again. Man, he’s really got to stop doing that. Or maybe you need to be more attentive; you hadn’t even seen him get off the ice! He’s sweaty too, hair sticking down slightly on his forehead, but unlike with Simeon, you drink the sight in. God, this man gets more and more attractive every time you see him. “Did you see me out there?” 

Honestly, he was pretty much all you could look at. 

“Of course I did.” 

“Was it impressive?” 

Mindful of Simeon, Belphegor, and Mammon (whom Diavolo doesn’t even seem to care about), you choose your words with care. “Don’t fish for compliments.” 

He grins, opening his mouth to speak, but before he can, the coaches call everyone to the ice. 

“Stop your flirting, Captain!” Mammon cackles, and Diavolo sighs. 

“I barely even got to talk to you!” 

Your heart flutters. “Well, I’ll be here after practice…” 

“That you will,” he says dorkily, looking all too excited. How can this man go from unbelievably sexy to cute so quickly?

The rest of practice flies by, and when it’s called to an end, anticipation bubbles in your chest. Diavolo nods towards the shower, and you give him a thumbs up. Simeon shakes his head with a laugh, and you can’t help but flip him off. 

You pack your things slowly, or maybe it’s that Diavolo showers quickly, because he walks out of the locker room at the same time you approach it. And lord, if you’d thought sweaty Diavolo was attractive, then what was post-shower Diavolo? Off the fucking charts is what. His shirt, slightly damp, sticks to his chest in a way that makes you want to drool. 

 “Ready?” he asks, taking your laptop bag from you before you can protest. 

“Of course.” You gesture for him to lead the way. “I’m excited to see this jersey after hearing so much about it.” 

“And I’m excited to see you wear it,” he replies smoothly, and your cheeks heat up. 

“Sweet talker.” 

“Honest,” he corrects amusedly, holding the door for you as you exit the building into the parking lot.

His car is nice. Much nicer than Simeon’s well-loved and well-worn sedan, it’s sleek and expensive looking. Too bad you’re not much of a car girl, otherwise you’d definitely appreciate it more. You notice it’s also clean and smells good when you buckle in. 

“Well, I don’t know about you, but I’m hungry,” Diavolo says, sliding into his own seat. “Burned off a lot of calories at practice there.” 

“What about your meal plan?” you question, faux-innocently, and he raises his eyebrows. 

“What my trainer doesn’t know won’t hurt him,” he replies, repeating your earlier words back to you. You can’t help but giggle. 

“Well, I’m hungry too, so I think lunch is a great idea,” you say. “I’m obviously new around here so I’ll let you choose. Now, I want to be impressed.” 

“Yes ma’am.” He starts up the car and smoothly exits the parking lot. “How about my favorite brunch place?” 

“Isn’t it a little late for brunch?” you ask, and he shrugs. 

“Eh, they serve brunch all day.” 

“That sounds good to me,” you say, and he grins. 

“Good, because it’s literally right down the road.” 

∙

Once you’re seated inside, Diavolo takes the menu from your hand and sets it aside. “You won’t need this,” he says. “Trust me.” 

“Oh, I didn’t know I was dining with an expert,” you joke. “Fine, I’ll trust you. But if you get me something I don’t like, get ready to pay the price.” 

“If it’s you—” he waggles his eyebrows devilishly “—I wouldn’t mind getting punished.” 

You shake your head, trying to clear the thoughts and images that had arisen from his words, and take a long sip of water. “So, um, what do you like to do?” 

“Play hockey.” 

You wave a hand. “You know what I mean, dipshit.” 

“Fine, fine. Let’s see… I enjoy running, especially at this park near my place. The sunrise is super pretty. And I spend a lot of time with Barbatos and Lucifer too.” 

“You do?” you ask, surprised. They were pretty close for a professional team but you hadn’t known it was that close. 

“Yep. Been friends with them forever. Barbatos, for as long as I can remember—I’m pretty sure our parents introduced us in the hospital—and Lucifer and I met at a camp years ago. It’s honestly pretty crazy we made it to the same team.” 

“Wow,” you say, remembering reading headlines of the unexpected draft pick for both of them, “that is crazy. I’m glad you guys are all so close.” 

“Well, most of us have been on the team for at least a season,” he replies. “I’m glad Simeon’s growing closer with us too. He seems like a really cool dude.” 

“He is,” you reply, “but don’t tell him I said so. He’d never let me live it down.” 

Diavolo winks, miming locking his mouth with a key. “Your secret’s safe with me.” 

The waitress comes to take your orders then, and you leave it all to Diavolo. He gets the same dish for the both of you, promising it’ll be worth it.

“I hope so,” you say. “I’m kind of nervous. I’ve never heard of a dish called ‘Hotter Than Hot Toasted Sandwich’. It’s a good thing I like spicy food. What would you have done if I didn’t?” 

He looks sheepish then, rubbing at the back of your neck. “I asked Simeon just to be sure.” 

The thought put into it touches you, and you look down, then up at him through your lashes. “I see.” 

The conversation drifts, moving from one topic to another with ease. And that’s what things are with Diavolo. Easy. He’s kind and funny, attentive to your feelings, and seems to find you just as appealing as you find him. 

That is, if you’re reading the signs right, but honestly it’d be kind of hard to interpret his actions otherwise.

Your food arrives, and thankfully, it’s as delicious as he’d promised. You both finish eating at around the same time, and as if she’d been waiting, the waitress comes and drops off the check. Before you can move, Diavolo has his card out, a shiny black Amex, and sets it on the table. 

“I’m not going to argue,” you say with a laugh, and he smiles. 

“Good. I want to treat you.” 

“Careful,” you warn playfully, “or I might get used to it.” 

He leans forward, a little more serious. Those eyes burn into you, making you breathless even though he hasn’t said anything. “And what if that’s what I want?” 

You blink at his sudden bluntness. It’s almost hard for you to believe what you’re hearing. That a man like him is interested in a girl like you. Not that you’re not a catch, but damn, he’s out of this world. “Well,” you finally say, “I guess you’ll just have to keep taking me out to prove it.” 

“If that’s what it takes,” he says lowly, “then I’d be happy to provide. Let’s get out of here.” 

The waitress had apparently grabbed his card and returned it without you noticing, so when he stands, it takes you a second to follow. He leads you back to his car. 

“Do you need to get back to anything or can I steal you for longer?” he asks, and you consult your watch. 

“Unfortunately, I do have a work meeting in like an hour,” you reply reluctantly. “That's not enough time for us to really do anything.” 

He frowns. “That’s unfortunate. I wanted to show you around the Devildom since I figured you hadn’t had much time to explore.” 

“That’ll just have to wait until next time,” you say airily, and he shakes his head. 

“You really do know how to wrap me around your finger.” 

You give him the address to your apartment, and all too soon he’s pulling up outside of the building. 

“I had fun today,” you say earnestly. “Thanks for taking me out.” 

He reaches into his back seat and pulls a piece of fabric forward. The jersey, you realize, as he presses it into your hands. A smile blooms on your face. 

“I had fun today too,” he says. “And I better see you wearing that to the game tomorrow. That is, if you’re coming.” 

You unbuckle, throwing his door open. “Oh, I will be. Coming, that is. And wearing your number.” 

∙

The season continues. You wear Diavolo’s jersey to the games, cheering for the Dogs with wild abandon, and they continue to win. And win, and win, and win. 

(“It’s all thanks to Simeon,” Solomon faux-whispers to you at one celebratory post-game hang. “He’s way better at being my right than Asmo ever was.” 

“Rude!” Asmo returns, jostling into Solomon’s side. Everyone laughs, and you easily join in. These boys, they’ve become a part of you, like you’ve become a part of them.)

Off the ice, you and Diavolo grow closer. You get familiar with his life outside of hockey, staying overnight at his apartment here and there when you both have the time. You haven’t put a label on it, something Diavolo seems to sense you’re not ready for, as the ended engagement with Raphael is still a little fresh, but it’s clear to the both of you that this isn’t some passing fling.

Before you know it, months have passed, and it’s playoff season. The Dogs obviously make it, having a perfect season thus far, as do the Chols, who had a rocky start to the beginning of the season, probably due to the changed dynamics without Simeon, but quickly redeemed themselves to finish strong. 

(“We bring home the Calder Cup all of the time,” Belphie says with an eye roll. “How is this season any different?” 

Mammon grins slyly. “It’s different for our dear Captain. After all, he’s finally got someone he wants to win the cup for.” 

Diavolo’s hand, where it’s wrapped around yours, squeezes lightly.)

Diavolo offers to fly you out to the West Coast for the championship game, as somehow, the Chols made it into the final two. They never quite managed that when Simeon was on the team. You decline, not because you’re not going, but because you can fly yourself. 

The bonus from both teams’ championship jerseys is sitting nice and pretty in your account right now.

You’re a bit nervous on the plane. Not because of the flying, but at the thought of seeing the Chols. Especially since this wasn’t any old game, but the championship one. It’d be a hard loss, for whoever doesn’t make it, and though at this point, your loyalties lie entirely with the Dogs, you don’t want to make anyone on the old team feel betrayed.

It’d also be your first time seeing Raphael in a long time, and the thought makes you a little scared. But you’re also hopeful. Hopeful that you’ll get to see people who were once your world again without it being too awkward. 

Although, considering the rivalry between the teams you’re not sure how feasible that one is…

When you get off the plane, carry-on in tow, you text Diavolo that you’ve landed safely, not expecting his reply to come right away. 

Diavolo_14: I’m glad you made it 

Diavolo_14: Still not sure why you wouldn’t fly in with us though :((

MC: I told you, I had it covered. You can spoil me some other way, on a trip that’s unrelated to your games

Diavolo_14: Is that you saying you want to travel with me in the off-season? After all of this postseason stuff is completed?

MC: Yes but you already knew that.

Diavolo_14: I suppose I may have had an idea.

Diavolo_14: Anyway, don’t get in a taxi or anything, our hotel is within walking distance.

MC: I already had reservations somewhere else!

Diavolo_14: Reservations Simeon canceled

Diavolo_14: I was hoping it’d be a nice surprise but if you’re uncomfortable with it I can get your old room back. 

MC: It’s not bad, and I am surprised. I just don’t want to distract you before such an important game.

Diavolo_14: Pssshh, this game is nothing. And you’re never a distraction <3

MC: Liar. 

MC: Remember when I made you late to practice last week?

Diavolo_14: Oh yeah. Anyway, if you’re really fine with it you’d be sharing with me

Diavolo_14: It’s got a jacuzzi tub………

MC: You spoil me. Yes I’m fine with it. 

MC: What’s the name of the hotel so I can walk there?

Diavolo_14: You should be able to see it if you go to the east entrance and look up.

MC: Oh, good, I’m near there. Hold on

Diavolo_14: Yeah just look up and over by the sign for the shuttle, then slightly to the left.

You do as he directs, eyes widening when instead of a hotel, you see a familiar head of red hair. He waves, and you cross the street in a hurry.

“Hey!” he greets, wrapping you in a hug. “You sure it was a good surprise? I was worried it’d be too much, but I really wanted you with me. If I went too far, seriously, tell me. I know we haven’t really talked about where we are but I really like you and it seems to be the same for you so I’d hoped it would be alright. Plus, Simeon said you’d like it. And yes, I’m totally throwing him under the bus right now in case you don’t,” he adds, trying to alleviate some of the seriousness.

You laugh. “I like it. And I like the idea of a jacuzzi tub. I’m all gross from the plane. And I do like you, a lot, so you have nothing to worry about there. It’s a sweet gesture.” 

Diavolo leans in to kiss you then, something you return, pleased. Though it’d only been a few days of separation, you’d found yourself really missing him. Almost too much, you worried.

Once you break apart, Diavolo takes your bag from you, slinging it over his shoulder, and you can’t help but smile up at him. You twine your fingers through his, relishing the feel of the west coast. Though it was winter, the balmy beach weather was much nicer than the frozen streets of the Devildom. And to think you once considered this weather cold. 

Diavolo and you mosey out of the airport and down the street, not in any particular hurry. When you do get into the lobby, you’re instantly greeted by half of the team, who’d apparently been stalking the two of you from the expansive windows. 

“You made it!” Asmo cheers, eyes sparkling. “Now we can really have some fun!” 

“Sorry, sorry, but I’m afraid I’m going to be keeping MC all to myself for the time being,” Diavolo says, not sounding very apologetic. “We’ve got a date with the jacuzzi tub.” 

“We?” you say, giving him a look. “Who said anything about ‘we’? I said that I wanted a bath.” 

Simeon laughs, shaking his head, and you share a smile with him. 

“No, no, come on,” Diavolo begs theatrically. “Don’t deprive me. Of the wonderful jacuzzi jets, of course,” he adds hastily, seeing your unimpressed look. 

“You’d better be nice to him,” Lucifer warns you, in a tone you’ve only recently begun to recognize as his joking one. “I already gave up rooming with him for you, and I don’t need him complaining to me. Not when I now have to deal with rooming with these nitwits.” 

“Hey!” Mammon and Simeon protest. 

“It’s not like I said your names,” Lucifer says drily. 

“Yeah, but it was clear you were talking about us,” Mammon responds, and their squabbling fades into the background as Diavolo pulls you to the elevators, mashing the ‘Close Doors’ button before anyone else can get on. 

“You didn’t really mean that, did you?” he asks, turning to you. “You’re going to let me in the tub, right? If you don’t it might cause me to not play my best and lead to the Chols winning the cup tomorrow. You don’t want that, do you?” 

“Oh, we’re threatening now, are we?” you laugh, and he shakes his head. 

“Not threatening, just informing.” 

“I see,” you say. “Well, since I have a vested interest in seeing the Dogs take this game, I guess I’d better do anything that I can to ensure a win.” 

“Anything?” Diavolo asks, eyebrows waggling, and you give him a sly smile. 

“Anything.” 

∙

“Are you getting hungry?” Diavolo eventually asks, and you roll over to better face him. He looks like a dream, hair spread across the pillow, dark skin beautiful against the white sheets. “Lucifer just texted; apparently some of the Chols want to meet up at a bar, do a little pre-game catching up. They really want to see Simeon.” He hesitates. “But if you don’t want to do that, we can grab food somewhere else by ourselves.” 

“No, no,” you say quickly. “I’m not going to deprive the team of its captain. And, I have missed the boys. I’d love to see them. I’m just a little nervous.”

“Because of Raphael?” he asks gently. You’d filled him in on your past with the other hockey player, in bits and pieces, and Diavolo's been fully understanding, sharing his own stories of past love in return. You’d only grown closer through honesty, and you’re glad you’d been open with him, as now you don’t have to do any awkward explaining or suffer through any misunderstandings. 

“Some,” you admit honestly. “Well, mostly because of him. But I think it’ll just be weird to see them all. The Chols were my life at one point, you know, so it’s just going to be bittersweet. I do want to see them, though,” you add firmly, making up your mind, “so let’s go.” 

“Are you sure?” Diavolo reaches over, brushing across your cheek. You lean into his touch, nodding. 

“I’m sure. Now, stop touching me, because I need to actually get out of this bed and get ready.” 

“You already look perfect,” Diavolo insists, and you bat his hand away, sitting up. 

“Flatterer,” you reply cheekily. “But I’m pretty sure you’re the only one I want to see me like this. So let me get ready, alright?”

“Fine, fine,” he says. “I guess I’ll shower. Unless you want to join?” 

“No!” you huff with a laugh. “Stop tempting me. And, we just took baths.” 

“Well, I need a shower if we’re going to leave this hotel room,” he says meaningfully, and though your cheeks heat a little, you remain strong. Seeing that, he sighs, then stands, heading for the bathroom, leaving the door open as he dramatically turns on the shower, sending you enticing looks over his shoulder as he does so.

Once he finally gets in, you pull yourself out of bed, moving over to your carry-on. Thankfully, you’d packed a couple of outfit choices, not knowing what to expect. Choosing the most suitable, something casual and yet attractive, you get dressed, then realize you’re going to need the bathroom to fix your hair and do your makeup. 

“I’m coming in,” you call, toiletry bag in hand. It only takes a second for his head to pop out from behind the shower curtain, excitement diminishing once he sees you’re dressed. 

“Oh,” he says. “I thought you meant into the shower. But I guess not.” 

“Stop it, you,” you say, turning on the sink to wash your face, and he laughs. 

You’re almost finished with your makeup when the shower turns off, Diavolo stepping out a moment later with the towel low on his hips. You studiously ignore him, applying mascara with more focus than necessary. He doesn’t let that slide, wrapping his arms around you from behind. 

“You better not get me wet,” you warn, switching to your setting powder. 

“I won’t,” he says, and you turn your head slightly, giving him a look from the corner of your eye. His chin rests on your shoulder, and when you turn, your faces are mere inches apart. Diavolo hugs you tighter, kissing you, and you’re glad you haven’t applied lipstick yet. 

“Alright, alright, get off of me,” you say after a moment, a small smile crossing your lips. “Unless you want to have to take another shower.” 

“Cruel woman,” Diavolo bemoans, but does as you say, disappearing into the other room to get dressed. He returns a moment later, in dark jeans and a t-shirt, one that displays the Dogs’ logo. 

“You can’t be serious,” you say as he combs through his hair with his fingers. 

“What?” 

“Team merch, really?” 

He cracks an attractive smile, mirth dancing in his eyes. “Of course. I’ve gotta represent, you know.” 

You can only shake your head. 

As you’re putting on your shoes, there’s a knock on the door. Diavolo answers it, revealing Barbatos. 

“Oh, good, you’re both decent,” Barbatos says mildly, and you give him a glare. “We’re all headed downstairs.” 

“We’re ready,” Diavolo says and you stand, making sure you have your purse. You all walk down to the lobby, Diavolo’s hand in yours the whole way. 

“How are you feeling?” Simeon asks at one point, voice quiet.

“Nervous,” you reply honestly. “You?” 

“Nervous,” he echoes. “But I think it’ll be fine. I’m excited to see Raphael and the others again.” 

“I am too,” you agree. “It’ll be nice to catch up. Especially before we kick their asses tomorrow.” 

Simeon laughs. “I like the way you think.”

As you get closer to the bar where you’re all meeting up, you can’t deny that your hands get a little sweaty and your stomach starts to knot. You know the worst thing you'll find is a shit-ton of awkwardness (or at least that’s what you really hope), and that once you see it through it’ll ease, but you’re still not super keen on putting yourself in the situation. 

Ten minutes, you tell yourself, then things will be fine. Plus, you’ll have Diavolo and Simeon by your side and all the other boys to make distractions and break the ice. 

Diavolo squeezes your hand as you enter the bar, and immediately, your eyes find the familiar sight of Raphael’s ash-colored hair. You gulp; there’s no turning back now. 

“Hey!” Mammon calls out easily, and the boys turn. You recognize some others aside from Raphael, and thankfully a few have brought their wives, making it less awkward that you’re there and also giving you a breath of relief because you were familiar with them. 

Raphael’s eyes lock onto yours, then sharpen on you and Diavolo’s linked hands. There’s no animosity in them, just that same awkward cautiousness you feel, another relief. 

“Hey, come join us,” Raphael says, gesturing to the rest of the table. The bar staff, or maybe the Chols, had pushed a few tables together, making a monster table to fit the mishmash of people. You pull out a seat between Simeon—who’s across from Raphael—and Diavolo, who lets go of your hand as you sit. You smile at the girl across from you, not recognizing her. 

“Hi,” you greet the table at large, among various other greetings being given. “It’s nice to see you all again, and nice to meet you, those I haven’t met yet.” 

The girl across from you smiles at that, introducing herself as Thirteen, the main goalie’s sister. 

“So, uh, how goes the season?” Raphael asks Simeon awkwardly. “You miss us yet?” 

Simeon laughs. “Miss your snoring? Nah, not really. And the season’s going great, obviously. I’m glad you guys made it this far too, it’ll be fun to put you in your place.” 

“Starting the chirping already?” Diavolo asks him, throwing an arm across your shoulders. “Careful, Simeon, I think we’re outnumbered here.” 

“You’ve changed, Simeon,” Raphael says. “I think the Dogs are rubbing off on you. Anyway, MC, how have you been? Business going well?”

“Oh, yeah, your designs for this season are killer,” Thirteen adds before you can answer. “I mean, the font change for the Dogs’ numbers was such a good touch.” 

“Oh, thank you,” you laugh. “I’m surprised anyone picked up on that! It’s such a small detail but really impacts the overall vibe of the Jerseys.” 

Awareness dawns on Diavolo. “Wait. Are you talking about the team jerseys? As in, the jersey designs?” 

“Bingo,” you say slyly. “My job: designing jerseys for sports teams. Mostly hockey teams.” 

“I forgot you guys didn’t know,” Simeon says. “Yeah MC’s like, totally in charge of the jerseys. Remember the Veterans Day design? I helped with that.” 

“Barely,” you snort.

“You’re serious,” Diavolo mumbles. “How did I not know that?” 

You shrug. “Well, I didn’t mention it when we first met and it hasn’t really come up since. Anyway,” you turn back to Raphael, unable to hide your amused smile, “yeah, business is going well! Thanks for asking. How’s that knee been?” 

“Oh, you know,” Raphael shrugs. “I’ve been more careful this season since I don’t have someone to nurse me back to health.” His ears steadily turn red as he realizes what he just said, and you’re sure you’re no better. 

“Well,” you begin, but thankfully Simeon cuts in. 

“You were always lucky with that. Lately, MC just throws an ice pack at me. No sympathy, I swear!” 

“That’s because your injuries are all your fault,” you criticize. “Never stops when he should, this guy.” 

“Yeah, yeah. Anyway, I’m getting something from the bar. Raphael, you want something?” 

They both head for the bar, and you sigh, slumping in your seat. Diavolo leans over to you, eyes concerned but also accusing. 

“I guess we’ll talk about the jersey thing later,” he says, quirking his lips slightly. “I’m sure the team will be very interested to hear. Who knows, maybe they’ll have some design input.” 

“Oh, god,” you say quickly. You hadn’t even considered that. “You’d better not tell them, I swear! I’ll kick your ass if you do.” 

“I don’t doubt it,” he assures you, laughing. “But seriously, I can’t believe I’ve never known that. Now I feel like a bad person for not knowing something so basic. And also kind of like an idiot. I guess I just thought you were acquainted with the upper staff through me when it was really through your own work. Self-centered, much?” 

“Really, Diavolo, it’s fine,” you assure him. “I was aware you didn’t know, even taking care to avoid bringing it up at the beginning. Now you do know, so you can stop feeling bad about it. And I’m sorry if you feel betrayed, that wasn’t my intention.” 

“No, no,” he hastens. “It just reminds me how much I still have to learn about you.” 

“Well, there’s lots and lots of time for that,” you reply, and he smiles, something in his eyes easing. You really hadn’t intended to hurt him with this and now just feel like an asshole. “And I have so much to learn about you, too. But I’m looking forward to it.” 

Realizing how rude you’re being to Thirteen, perhaps at the same time, you and Diavolo turn back to her. So lost in your own world, you hadn’t realized Solomon had taken Raphael’s empty seat, now engaged in some fiery debate. 

“Let’s stay out of that one,” Diavolo murmurs to you, as Solomon starts using four-syllable words he only pulls out when he’s trying to academically shame someone, and you nod. 

Instead, you and Diavolo split up, talking to various people around the room. It’s nice for you to check in on the Chols’ players and their wives and partners, and they seem just as happy to see you. Any worries of tension (to you or to Simeon) disappear quickly, and you find yourself interacting with them just like you used to. One look at Simeon shows he’s faring well, surrounded by teammates old and new. 

Warmth expands in your heart and you grab another drink from the bar, just happy to be with the people you love and care for.

(Your eyes find Diavolo as you think that, and though you don’t particularly care to dig into the sentiment, you find yourself comfortable with it all the same.)

Raphael finds you, eventually, offering another beer as a peace offering. You take it, looking at the man you used to love so dearly. You still love him, but only as a friend. Something settles in your chest at the confirmation of what you’d been suspecting: any lingering feelings for him have fully dissipated and you’re ready to move on. Fully.

He seems to realize this, and you suspect that he feels much the same way. The memories between you will hold a special place in your heart forever, sometimes even hurt, but you don’t regret the time you’ve spent with him. You only regret that you hadn’t met Diavolo sooner. 

“You’ve got yourself a real catch,” he says, a little sleepily in the way you know to mean he’s slightly inebriated. Not too much, of course, but socially, as are most of the players. “I’m glad to see you’re doing well.” 

“Thank you,” you say. “I’m glad, you’re doing well too, Raphael. Congrats again on making it this far this season. Your playing has been incredible.” 

“You’ve been watching?” 

You sigh softly. “How could I not? Especially at the beginning of the season, when all I was doing was missing you. Guys. You guys. The Dogs are great, of course, but I can’t lie. They were a little intimidating at the beginning.” 

He laughs. “You should see them on the ice.” 

“Oh, I can imagine.” 

A silence, soft and fragile like an early spring day falls between you two, and you give him one more smile. “I’ll see you around, yeah? Don’t be a stranger.” 

“I won’t,” he promises, and you both exchange one more look, laying it all to rest, before you float off to find Diavolo, who’s conversing with Lucifer and one of the rookies from the Chols.

“Everything alright?” he asks, pulling you into his side, pressing his cheek to the top of your head.

“Yeah,” you say, leaning into him. “Everything’s alright.” 

∙

Excitement bubbles through your veins as you take your seat, one similar in position to the one you have at the Dogs’ home rink, basically on the ice and near the team box. The only difference is that you’re on the away side instead of the home, allowing you to continue to sit near the Dogs.  

As a personal guest of the Captain, you’d been offered a plush VIP box but had declined, preferring to get down and dirty in the thick of things as you always had. 

Diavolo’s name sits proudly across your shoulders—his real jersey, not a replica sold to fans—and you inhale the spicy scent of his cologne (yeah, you’d asked to borrow it to spray on the jersey, so what), reveling in the electric feeling filling the arena. Though many of the fans are in the white and light blue of the Celestial City Chols, quite a fair amount of black and red can be seen throughout the crowd, showing the many diehard fans who’d made the trip across the country. The only similarities between the teams’ color schemes are the gold accents, glittering and shining under the harsh overhead lighting. 

Everyone is excited for this game. Not only is it the last deciding game in the finals, the one that will determine who will take the freaking Calder Cup home, but it’s also between two rival teams. Two rival teams that are both determined to work themselves to the bone, pouring blood, sweat, and tears into winning (though not all of it their own, knowing the Dogs). It’s going to be a game that’ll go down in AHL history.

The minutes tick by and finally both teams take the ice for warm-up. The boys wave and smile, Mammon taking care to be an ass and send a puck right towards your face, as has become his pre-game ritual, but you really only have eyes for Diavolo.

Diavolo, who looks hot as hell in your championship jerseys (white, with red, gold, and black accents), who blows you a kiss as best he can around his mouthguard, who looks like he’s ready to lead his team to a very satisfying and devastating victory.

You would swoon but instead settle for yelling and screaming just as loud as the rest of the arena. 

After the starting lineup is announced, with much more pomp and circumstance than the other games, and the national anthem is finished, you sit on the edge of the seat, watching as the ceremonial puck is dropped. It’s very nice and all, but you’re ready for the game to begin.

After what feels like forever, it finally does, and you watch as Raphael and Simeon face one another, kitty-corner. It’s surreal, after so many seasons of watching them play the same line. Diavolo and Lucifer aren’t far behind the forwards, and every member of both teams is completely and utterly focused on the puck.

The arena is so silent you could hear a pin drop as the music fades, and in a clatter of skates and sticks on ice, the puck is dropped. The Chols gain possession, the center sending the puck back to the left d-man, who sends it to the left winger smoothly. The Dogs don’t take that lying down, and chase after the puck. Levi gets there first, and manages to take the puck, passing it to Solomon, who forges a blazing trail down the ice. Amidst the various cheering and booing, you think, perhaps delusionally, you can make out Thirteen’s unique tone, screaming out her displeasure. 

The Chols d-men are frustratingly persistent, and what follows is several minutes of back and forth, with both teams failing to make a goal. Shots are attempted by both sides, but are all blocked by the goalie or intercepted by other team members, and when Beel finally gets the puck in his glove, you let out a sigh of relief that they’re all able to take a break. You watch as the players all assemble for an end zone face-off, one that the Dogs win. Both teams are playing viscous and dirty, with checks rattling the boards all around. 

“Get it out of there!” you scream, as yet another attempted goal shot is made, and as if they hear you, the forward line, which is now Mammon, Asmo, and Satan, push back towards the Chols’ goal. A brief scuffle near the defending line takes place, and the ref whistles, calling offsides on the Chols. 

The first period passes without any goals, despite both teams' desperate pushing. Though neither side scores, you know it’ll only be a matter of time in the second, as the Dogs have been gaining momentum as the night goes on. 

You whistle at the boys as they make their way from the bench to the locker room and Diavolo grins up at you, pulling off his helmet. He’s sweaty and out of breath, but handsome as all get out, and you’ve never been prouder to be bearing his name on your back. 

When the teams finally return after the break, you’re back on your feet, cheering as they take the ice. The Dogs gain possession of the puck in the first face-off, heading the opposite way than they had been previously due to the goal switch, unstoppable. Asmo, who has the puck, leaves the other team in the dust, zipping through and shooting in the blink of an eye. It goes in, as you’d hoped, prayed, suspected, and the roar of the crowd is thunderous. You can’t help but imagine what it’d be like in your home arena, in your home city. 

And it's odd. Sometime, over the course of the season, the Devildom had truly become your home. It’s not a shocking thing, by any means, but serves to make you cheer that much louder and clap that much harder. 

With a goal under their belts, the Dogs have a new fire lit beneath them. But the Chols aren’t giving up easily, and once Raphael checks Simeon hard across the boards in front of you. He’s a fearsome one when it comes to that, known even during his rookie days for his painfully-placed and technically legal elbow placements, and you wonder if the smile that had been shot your way was purposeful. Simeon skates it off impressively, though you know he’ll be aching later.

Diavolo does a great job staying on top of defense, and you’re aware of that same ease between him and Lucifer that you’d picked up on during their very first game together. You’d gotten to know Lucifer well during the season, and you make a mental note to yourself to take extra care when making his ‘good job on winning the Cup’ basket, to thank him for being such a great friend and partner to Diavolo.

When the two of them go back to the bench, switched out by Barbatos and Belphie, Diavolo waves at you in between great big gulps of water, and you make sure to take lots of pictures when you can tear your eyes from the game. 

The CC Chols score as well during the second period, tying them up as they go into the third. Though you’d think they’d all be quite tired, neither team is flagging, both playing and pushing hard. The Chols get another goal in, unfortunately, when Beel’s just a tad too slow, and you’re once again aware you’re in the fan minority as the crowd goes wild. 

They stay in the lead for several heart-pounding minutes, and apparently fed up with the tension, Mammon drops gloves, firecracker personality on full display. He gets the Chol player into a headlock, raining punches down onto him until he’s pulled off by the refs, much to the crowd’s disappointment. That gets him a few minutes in the sin bin, and you groan, knowing what a disadvantage the Dogs are at. The last thing they need is to be two down in the final period!

Diavolo rallies the team, showing his incredible skill and prowess as a captain, and thankfully, the Chols are unable to use the power play to their advantage, and Mammon skates back onto the ice like a hellcat.

Gameplay is stopped again after elbowing is called towards a Chols player, and you cheer as he gets some time in the box. Unlike the Chols, the Dogs score on their play, tying it all back up. Satan manages to scare and gets piled on by the team, and for once, he’s not pushing them back, a rare smile lighting up his face.

The end of the period draws nearer and nearer, and yet neither team pulls ahead. Anxiety and excitement are racing through you, and you continue to scream out your support, even as your voice grows hoarse.

Will this game go into overtime? That almost never happens in a finals game like this!

But as you resign yourself to the possibility, Simeon takes possession of the puck, passing it to Solomon, who goes to take a shot, and upon realizing he doesn't have a clear one, gives it right back. Simeon doesn’t hesitate, finely honed instincts taking over, and delivers it into the net with only a few minutes left of play. You scream, cheering as loud as you can, and the celly that follows is almost disrespectful, lasting a bit too long. 

Though the Chols don’t give up, they're unable to get another point before the buzzer sounds, and you can hardly believe it. The Dogs won! Your team won the fucking Calder Cup!

The boys celebrate in the ice, hefting Simeon up and onto their shoulders and Diavolo takes the cup and delivers it right into his waiting gloves. Simeon hefts it, grinning and crying, and you feel yourself crying too, unable to believe how far he’s gotten, the monumental feat he’d just completed. 

Diavolo’s eyes find yours, and hastily, he skates for the bench, fitting on his skate guards sloppily. As if he expected it, the door attendant pulls open the door to the dating section, still blocked by the metal gate, and you reach for him through the bars, glad they’re wide enough for you to pull him close by the pads and kiss him long and hard. Fans around you boo and scream, but you’re lost in your own world, lost in him. 

“I love you,” Diavolo says as he pulls away, breathing heavily. He’s crying too, but his smile is ear-to-ear, and you pull him in again, peppering kisses all over his cheeks, nose, and forehead, overwhelmed by your joy. 

“I love you too,” you say, and finally, someone opens the gate between you, and Diavolo lifts you up into a hug, kissing you again. You hear camera shutters and see flashbulbs go off and have no doubt your image will be all over articles and social media posts by tomorrow, but can’t bring yourself to care. Eventually, Simeon joins you, and you break from Diavolo to hug him tightly, both of you breaking down fully into sobs.

Diavolo lets you have your moment with your best friend, but Simeon’s soon stolen away by members of the team and you’re all shepherded out of the stands and off the ice so the boys can do their post-game photos and interviews and the like. Diavolo hesitates to pull away, but you shove him along, smiling. 

“Go,” you say. “I’ll be right here when you’re done.” 

“I love you,” he says again, a little helplessly. 

“I know.” 

How did you get so lucky, with this man, this team, this life? You watch the boys, heart bursting, and can’t wait to support them for their next season as well.

Although, not before you and Diavolo do everything you want during the offseason, including traveling and exploring, putting some of both of your accumulated wealth to good use. You’ve heard the Maldives are pretty this time of year, and nice and relaxing for Diavolo to recover. And private, you think with relish. The hotel you pick will be private. Very, very private. 

leviathans-watching's work - please do not copy, repost, or claim as your own

[cj-ghostemoji-destielpie]

⚠️⚠️⚠️PLEASE READ THE WARNINGS IN THE ABOVE SCREENSHOT BEFORE CONTINUING!!! ⚠️⚠️⚠️

This is my fic btw 💖 it'll only get worse. Chapter two will be posted soon and it's... F-d up.

Royal Tastes, by Dragonborn_Eldenlord on AO3.

Chapter 1: The Young King, The Cannibal Knight, The Dead Knight:

Sir Hannibal Lecter. A knight, ruthless and merciless in his quests. Or hunts, as he calls them.

Hannibal was infamous among many kingdoms as the Cannibal Knight, or Hannibal the Cannibal, that ate his enemies as a show of strength; not a popular habit. Most Knights hated or reluctantly accepted their jobs, but he reveled in the bloodshed. The scars, the agony, the screams, the light fading in his victims eyes, blood gurgling from their mouths or dripping from shallow wounds til they slowly bleed out… He saw beauty in it all.

Hannibal was visiting a kingdom he hadn't visited in a good twenty years or more; the Ophiuchus Kingdom, named after the serpent constellation due to the multiple snakes that infest the forests. Ophiuchus was infamous. The past rulers were known for their vicious and violent tactics, for their greed and gluttony. The only reason Hannibal was coming here in the first place was to and get in the good graces of the new ruler, as they had recently had their coronation if rumors were to be believed.

Walking into the throne room, Hannibal noticed the grandiosity of the palace. The new King is obviously doing some remodeling since there's multiple portraits stacked in a corner, many of which are torn. Hanging on the walls in their place are tapestries, animal hides, and furs, making the throne room have more of an animalistic, wild, and feral vibe.

Hannibal noticed the lack of the King as the throne was momentarily empty but he knelt anyway, the dark gray metal of his armor scraping against the expensive tiled floor; dark inky black tile with gold outlines and occasional intricate designs. He kept his head hung low, and soon he heard the footsteps of who he presumed to be the new King.

“Sir Hannibal Lecter, at your service, my Lord,” He greeted, head still positioned towards the dark ground.

"My apologies, Sir Lecter, but I'm not exactly... Educated on the proper etiquette of societal expectations for how I'm supposed to act and talk so I hope you'll be patient with me. Stand. I'm Lokka La’Rose, new King, blah blah blah. Killed the last King because he was a dick, so on and so forth," Lokka says casually as he perches on the arm of the fancy throne, not even looking at Hannibal as the Knight stands, instead he's briefly frowning in distaste at the gawdy throne before finally looking back at Hannibal with curiosity, golden eyes slowly taking in Hannibal's armor clad body and handsome face.

Hannibal stood, looking at the new King now fully. He seemed young. At least, younger than most rulers. If he's an adult it's just barely. His outfit—well, it lacked any form of royalty. Wearing something like that in court would make him the laughing stock of all the nobles. He's dressed in simple hunter-like garbs; a simple dagger on his hip, faded animal hide trousers and shirt. His curly hair is messy but pulled back in a low ponytail to keep it out of his face.

There's an old ugly scar running across his face that somehow danced between both eyes without harming them. And his eyes are peculiar as well; unnatural gold, reflecting all light, and feline-like with slit pupils.

"No worries, there's nothing wrong with not knowing etiquette. You’ll learn, it’ll feel like second nature in no time at all, Your Highness,” Hannibal studies the scars on the young King's face, "May I ask how you got those?”

"The scar? I was eight years old, a starving orphan, tried stealing from some noble man and he actually noticed and decided to teach me a lesson. Left me with a scar so I'd be reminded of the consequences of theft. Instead it just reminded me of the power imbalance in the Kingdom and the greed of the rich.”

Hannibal stayed silent for a moment, his eyes locked onto the other man. He studied the scar again, as it ran across his face in a jagged line. It had clearly scarred over years ago, but it still looked quite prominent. He knew the old King, and he was a greedy man, for sure. He thought the entire Kingdom was a piece of him to flaunt around. And many of his nobles had the same mentality.

"I see. You didn’t deserve that, child," He said the word in a somewhat condescending tone, though his facial expressions didn’t change from their almost emotionless state.

A small quiet huff of amusement escapes the King, “So, what are you here for? You requested an audience with the King. I know I'm not probably who you expected but I suppose I can still hear your piece and possibly assist.”

Hannibal smirked at his slight amusement, finding the King somewhat amusing. He began to circle around the throne, eyeing the golden details. He then came back to the front of the throne, locking eyes with the young King who'd allowed the Knight to pace and circle around him, looking entirely unthreatened.

"I didn't expect y ou , no," He paused for a moment, "Though I heard that you killed the last King. Tell me, was it worth it?”

Lokka tilts his head in thought, ".... worth it for the people....perhaps not for me though. I didn't want to be King. I just wanted there to be change. But no one else had the power to do it.”

Hannibal nodded slightly, silently admiring his slight vulnerability. He seemed to have thought about it a lot. He crossed his arms behind his back, shifting his weight to one foot. He seemed to look him up and down again before speaking again.

"You did this for the people, not yourself. That’s very admirable, Lord La’Rose.”

"Thank you, but please, just call me Lokka. I'm still not used to that title… and you're interesting enough to keep around and befriend.”

"Very well, Lokka ."

The way Hannibal says the King’s name makes the young King shiver and his cat-like pupils dilate.

Hannibal tilted his head downwards slightly, his arms behind his back casually and nonthreatening but somehow still imposing. The boy seemed somewhat shy, but somewhat confident, at least for speaking to a Knight that was feared by many for his bloodthirsty killing. He took a few steps closer to the throne.

"How old are you, if you don't mind me asking?”

“17,” The young King states simply.

Hannibal nodded as an indication of acknowledgement, slightly impressed that he had managed to kill a man—let alone a King—at that age. There was clearly a lot of determination and courage, perhaps some foolish bravery as well. He took another few steps, now being a few feet away from the throne.

"Ah. Young and full of life," He teases.

Lokka gives a small playful smirk, "I've heard of you, Sir Lecter. Hannibal the Cannibal . The Cannibal Knight . Are you here to add another man to your diet or are you after something else? I'm not easy to kill so I'd think twice if I were you,” His tone isn't threatening, just playful but with a hint of promise.

Hannibal chuckled dryly at Lokka’s comment, his hands still behind his back. Hannibal seemed amused by Lokka, intrigued even. Lokka was a curious thing.

" You're smarter than you look, kid ," He paused for a moment, looking into his odd eyes, before continuing, "And you seem a tad bit cocky for a young Lord.”

“Fake it til you make it," He says with a simple shrug, a hint of insecurity in his strange eyes.

Hannibal chuckled, noting a hint of vulnerability in his eyes. He tilted his head to the side, studying him a little closer.

"You're not confident, are you?" He teased him, finding a way to get under the new king’s skin.

Lokka shrugs, unperturbed, “No, I'm not. But I'm stubborn and spiteful so I'm planning on sticking around as King for a long time. At least until I find a suitable heir."

Hannibal hummed in acknowledgement, somewhat impressed by Lokka's determination and stubbornness. He seemed like a boy filled with ambition and power…and yet so vulnerable. So…breakable.

He'll be fun to break . Hannibal thinks to himself with a secret smile.

" And when you find that suitable heir, will you simply pass the throne over to them without a fight?" Hannibal asked, taking a small jab at him.

"I'll train them, have them educated on the life of the nobles and the poor, make sure they have decent morals and a support system, and then I'll peacefully step down, give them the throne when they're ready, and perhaps stick around as an advisor or something if needed.”

Hannibal’s eyebrows raised slightly, impressed by his thought-out plan. He had clearly thought it through for a while, which he respected.

"So you already have a plan in mind, that's quite…ingenious." He paused for a moment, "And you're sure they’ll be fit enough to rule your kingdom?”

"I've no idea. Haven't met a suitable heir yet. Enough about that though. What is it you wished to accomplish with your audience with the King, Sir Lecter?”

Hannibal chuckled at him, slightly amused. Lokka was clearly done talking about the subject for now, which Hannibal was willing to respect. Sometimes you have to play the long game when playing with a new toy you wish to enjoy breaking.

"Ah. Straight to the point. I like you, Lokka." He commented, now towering over the shorter man, "I simply came to offer my services to you—to the kingdom, I mean.”

Lokka gives Hannibal a small playful smile, not bothered at all with Hannibal towering over him- most Kings would've had Hannibal thrown out for the attempt at appearing imposing or threatening, instead Lokka just peers up at Hannibal in amused interest, "You wish to be my knight?" He basically purrs sweetly.

Hannibal found Lokka's lack of fear for him amusing, almost down right hilarious. Most rulers would be intimidated by a man like him, but the boy didn’t even seem slightly bothered by it. Hannibal found it quite interesting.

"Yes, of course," He said, somewhat amused. "I am the best in my field. You’d be unwise to decline my services, kid.”

Lokka chuckles, "Most would be practically begging or at least respectful when offering their services to a King, even a young and naive King enjoys respect instead of being called a kid," Lokka says with a playful smile, casually crossing his legs as he remains perched on the arm of the throne.

Lokka studies Hannibal for a long few moments, golden cat-eyes piercing and intelligent as he takes Hannibal in, like a wild cat studying its prey. Slowly he returns his gaze to Hannibal’s.

"Ask again." He says, a small smirk tugging his lip, “maybe with a pretty please ?" He asks, basically taunting Hannibal.

Hannibal was taken somewhat aback by his request, his eyes widening a slight bit. He had expected him to be polite and shy in his response, not demanding and confident. Hannibal’s smug expression soon faded away, the slight teasing look still in his eyes.

"My apologies," He began, his expression almost blank by now, "I'll be respectful , like you'd like."

He took a deep breath, knowing he was going to hate it.

"May I please be your Knight, Your Majesty, Lokka ?”

Lokka giggles in honest amusement, golden eyes lighting up with joy before he schools his expression.

"hm...no," He says before smiling again. "I'm not going to waste your services as a common Knight. If you'd like to work for me, I'd rather you be my main security. Top knight, Housecarl, or whatever the fancy noble terminology is. I've heard of your skills and I'd love to see them in person. I've had multiple attempts on my life within just a week so I imagine you'll get a chance to prove yourself interesting . If you grow bored of being a bodyguard, then I suppose I can send you out to play with the other Knights. Does that sound appealing enough to you, Sir Hannibal Lecter ?”

Hannibal’s eyebrows shot up at Lokka's words, surprised. He was expecting to be a regular Knight of the castle, which was just fine. But security for the King? That was unexpected, but he was very much intrigued by the offer. And it would make it easier to toy with the King and slowly break him.

"That sounds very appealing," He commented, his smirk returning once again, "I agree to those terms.”

"Good. Splendid. Hope you don't mind explaining the seemingly stupid noble jargon the people here keep expecting me to understand. Do you understand the purpose of so many forks for one meal?" He asks, tone switching from the teasing playful to genuinely open and curious

He chuckled at his question, amused by the King’s clear lack of knowledge of the social rules.

"Of course. And I know the noble jargon.” He explained. "And it’s stupid, honestly. There’s so many rules for a simple meal. A commoner would eat an entire turkey with their hands, while Kings and Queens have to use specific forks and spoons for specific items of a meal. And don’t even dare to use your hands; you’ll be chastised by the etiquette police.”

The King sighs dramatically as he lays across the throne, "Everything has so many ridiculous rules and yet the commoners are more concerned with surviving, which is more understandable. Why so many forks when hands work just fine? It's stupid…”

"I think I'm going to like you, Sir Lecter." The young King says, rolling his head where he lays across the throne to look up at Hannibal.

"Perhaps I may say the same," Hannibal replied, an amused smile tugging at his lips. He studied him for a moment, admiring his confidence, especially for a young king like him.

“ Goddesses ! I need to get rid of this throne !" He jumps off of it dramatically, a good three feet in the air before landing on his feet in a squat like a feral cat before slowly standing like a normal human, "that thing is so ridiculously uncomfortable. And such an eyesore . Like, we get it! This is a throne! But if you're going to show off wealth you may as well use it for something comfortable . Especially if you're expected to sit in the evil thing for days on end and play nice with other nobility.”

Hannibal was surprised by Lokka's sudden outburst and unexpected agility as he jumped from his throne, not expecting him to be nearly as physically adept as he was for a King or a human. He let out a dry chuckle as he stood next to him.

"Most nobles and royalty don’t care about what’s comfortable. They just care about what looks good and makes them look better than everyone else," Hannibal replied dryly.

Lokka huffs and crosses his arms, glaring at the throne like a petulant child who was just told that he has to eat his veggies before dessert, “Well I'm not most kings. If I could have that replaced with a recliner I would... I suppose I'll just settle for having this fancy throne melted down to coins and donated to the commoners, maybe the orphanage. Then I'll just feckin' carve a nice throne from some cherry wood perhaps and get some nice comfy- but I suppose fancy fabric- cushions to line it with."

Hannibal chuckled at Lokka's…rant, finding his determination for a more comfortable throne quite amusing. He tilted his head to the side, studying the younger man.

"A cherry wood chair," He repeated, a single brow quirked, "With plush velvet cushions," He added dryly with a slight tone of mockery. He was clearly holding back his laughter.

The King huffs and throws his hands in the air with dramatic exasperation "Ye have better design ideas, Sir Lecter?”

Hannibal let out a few dry chuckles at his dramatic actions before replying with a smirk.

"Maybe. I was thinking something a little more… aesthetic ," He said, thinking over the design in his mind, "Dark oak. Gold or a dark material for the trimmings. Soft light fur as a cushioning.”

"....I might actually be able to work with that...I'll sketch something up and have you look it over,” the King says after actually seeming to seriously be pondering over Hannibal's words.

Hannibal hummed, finding him quite amusing. Who would’ve thought a newly crowned King would ask for his input on a throne design of all things? Hannibal had to hold back his smirk at Lokka's eagerness.

“Of course. I’ll look it over once you have it sketched up, Lokka.”

"....so," Lokka clasps his hands and rocks slightly in place, "I'm supposed to play nice and be all Kingly for a few more hours today. One of the servants told me that there were a couple different knights and messengers from different kingdoms coming today- aside from you. I was even warned that at least one messenger is going to try and get me to marry some King's daughter from a neighboring kingdom," he says, looking disgusted but hides it mostly, "Are you ready to play advisor/bodyguard today or do you wish to have a servant show you to your new quarters and start tomorrow?”

Hannibal could sense Lokka's disgust in his voice and almost chuckled but contained himself. It seemed he disliked the prospect of having to listen to someone ask him to marry someone’s daughter for political purposes. He smirked, crossing his arms over his chest once again.

"I’m quite ready. And if any messenger does decide to try to convince you to marry an ugly daughter, I’ll be your bodyguard and advisor.”

"I'm not concerned with their looks , I'm just opposed to marrying some girl I don't know nor wish to know ," He says simply, reluctantly sitting back on the throne, though properly this time. He glances at the grand fancy clock across the throne room, "The next person should be here soon. Don't remember if it's a knight or some noble, or a messenger though.”

Hannibal watched as Lokka sat back down on the throne, this time properly. He still found the throne to be a little gaudy looking, no amount of proper sitting would change that. He took a few steps closer to the throne, positioning himself on the right side of him.

"Well, whoever this next person may be, I’ll be right here," He replied, referring to his position beside Lokka.

Lokka gives Hannibal a small smile, "Good boy," He says playfully, but praising, and before Hannibal can snark or react, a servant enters and announces the arrival of another visitor; another Knight.

Hannibal’s smirk quickly faded in surprise with Lokka's playful praise, his cheeks taking on a slight red hue. He was not expecting him to say that, but he quickly shook it off. He refocused his attention back towards the entrance to the throne room as the servant announced the arrival of another Knight. His eyes narrowed slightly as he watched the Knight carefully for his mannerisms.

The Knight was mature in age, probably around Hannibal’s age. His armor was shiny and well-polished; he's probably rather stuffy and hasn't actually seen many battles. He entered the room rather arrogantly—like most Knights were—and began to speak in an overly cocky tone.

“Your majesty, I am Sir Charles,” The Knight said, standing in the middle of the room, not bothering to take a knee or bow or show any respect, making Hannibal curl his lip in distaste.

Lokka tilts his head, studying the man, "Sir Charles... I'm Lord La'Rose. What have you come here to ask of the new King of Ophiuchus?" Lokka asks, all previous playful energy gone, in his place is now a serious calm intelligent King.

Hannibal noticed that Lokka even used his title this time, instead of being casual like Lokka had been with him. The change was sudden. Happened as soon as Sir Charles entered, only a brief moment of Lokka sniffing the air prerequisites his personality shift when Sir Charles entered.

Sir Charles was taken aback by Lokka's sudden and unexpected shift into a completely different person. From a giddy, happy, young King to a stoic, serious individual in a matter of seconds. He paused for a moment, almost intimidated by the change, but eventually responded.

"Well, your majesty, I have come to… congratulate you.” He replied, the word ‘congratulate’ sounding almost bitter coming from his lips.

"hmmm... Is that so? You could've just sent some gift like most of the others singing my praises lately," Lokka doesn't sound cocky despite his words, he actually seems uncomfortable with the thought of being praised for what he'd done, "So, what else is it you wanted from me, Sir Charles, aside from wasting my time?”

Sir Charles was once again taken aback, clearly not expecting the King to brush off his praise and assume he was just there to waste his time. He stood silently for a few moments, almost shocked, before speaking up again.

“I wasn’t just here to give my congratulations, your majesty.” He replied, his tone somewhat snarky and somewhat irritated now. “I also came to request something.”

"speak, no need to dawdle.” Lokka says when Sir Charles doesn't get straight to the point, making Hannibal fight a proud smirk.

Sir Charles let out a snort, crossing his arms over his chest and taking a few steps closer to the King.

“If you’d be so kind, Your Majesty, I was hoping you’d send a few of your troops to help us in a little battle we’re having.” He explained, the tone in his voice still demanding.

"A little battle?" Lokka asks, a single brow raised, "Why? Plead your case, Sir Charles.”

Sir Charles let out another snort, his arrogance seemingly taking control as he spoke again.

“My kingdom has been at war for over a year now. We just lost a significant amount of soldiers and are requesting backup.” He said, as if the reason was obvious and simple. “It would be immensely appreciated if you would send whatever soldiers you can spare.”

"...you have yet to explain why you're even at war or why I should be inclined to help. Perhaps I'd rather help your enemies, hm? What say ye to that?"

Sir Charles stood silent, shocked, for a few moments. The arrogance on his face now faded into disbelief. Obviously, he hadn’t expected the King to be so indifferent and ask for a reason to send soldiers to help.

“The reason for our war…” He repeated, “Why- the reason is…”

He paused for another moment, trying to come up with a reasonable response on why they were at war and why they needed his help. A good reason. One that wasn't seeped in greed.

Lokka chuckles, darkly, in amusement, before speaking with a light disturbingly kind tone despite his words, "Give me a good reason, Sir Charles, before I send you back to your King without a head.”

Sir Charles almost staggered backward in shock, horrified by the King's response. His dark amusement and the threat of beheading him if he can’t come up with a good reason was enough to nearly make Sir Charles piss in his armor, but he managed to stay composed. Mostly. He swallowed thickly before replying again.

“We’ve been at war with our neighboring kingdom for years now. A war we can’t win without you. If you do not help, Your Majesty…” He paused once again, his voice wavering slightly, “We will be overtaken and lost.”

"Still," Lokka says, casually standing from his throne, and slowly walking down the steps of the platform to the main part of the throne room, gesturing with one hand casually for Hannibal to stay, back for now, "You've yet to explain why you're at war. Just that you are and that you're losing." Lokka's tone softens to an almost teasing seductive tone as he nears Sir Charles and raises a hand to gently caress the taller older man's cheek and tilts his gaze to meet his eyes, "so... Explain to me, Sir," Lokka practically purrs, "why," he traces his fingers over the Knight's pulse point, "you need me?”

Sir Charles froze as the King suddenly approached him, his hand gently caressing his cheek and moving his head to face him. The sudden shift in his tone and attitude to something more seductive and playful shocked him, his heart almost stopping as he felt his slender fingers tracing over his pulse point.

He inhaled deeply, unable to find the words to respond. His words got caught in his throat, but he eventually began speaking despite the dryness in his throat.

“I- We…” He paused, swallowing the lump in his throat.

"ooh, has a cat got your tongue?”

Sir Charles tensed his shoulders, his cheeks turning a slight pink at his words. It didn’t help that Lokka was so close to him, his slender but firm and calloused fingers still gently caressing his pulse point. Sir Charles swallowed again, his words stuck in his throat like a frog for a few moments.

“N-no.” He managed to stutter out, cursing himself for stuttering like a boy with a middle school crush.

The King chuckles playfully, dancing around behind the large Knight and draping his arms over the man's shoulders from behind, wrapping his arms around the man's neck and resting his hands teasingly on the man's chest armor.

"hmmm..." Lokka hums in thought, glancing over to Hannibal, "Sir Hannibal, what do you know of Sir Charles and his Kingdom?”

Sir Charles tensed more as the King began to dance around him, jumping slightly as he suddenly draped his arms over his shoulders. He immediately tried to look at whatever Hannibal’s reaction was to the King’s action, his stomach twisting into knots at the King’s forward and almost…flirtatious behavior.

Hannibal’s eyes remained fixated on the pair, his head tilted to the side observing the King’s behavior, and Sir Charles’ reaction. He noted his tension and how he seemed almost afraid of the small young King.

The boy continues to surprise me…

"Don't tell me a cat's got your tongue too now, Sir Hannibal," the young King calls out playfully to his Advisor and Knight, "Do you know of Sir Charles or his Kingdom? Feel free to speak your mind, Sir Hannibal.”

Hannibal’s eyes flicked over to the King as soon as he spoke up, his eyes narrowing for a moment before his normal, calm demeanor returned to him. He raised an eyebrow, a little surprised with the King’s almost childish behavior. He took no issue with it, it was almost…endearing…

Hannibal glanced back at Charles for a moment, observing his behavior further, before speaking up in his usual polite but crisp and composed tone.

“I know of his kingdom and his cause. I also know of his king.”

"Hmm," Lokka hums, teasingly nuzzling his face into Sir Charles' neck from behind, though from where Hannibal stands, Hannibal can see the way Lokka curls his nose in disgust at whatever he smells, or just disgust for the Knight Sir Charles in general.

“Continue to speak your thoughts, Sir Hannibal. What's your opinion? Since you know of him and his King. Should we help them? Why are they in a war?”

Hannibal noticed the way the King’s nose curled in disgust as he nuzzled into the Knight’s neck. That was interesting. Clearly, there was more going on than a simple plea for help. Hannibal kept that thought in the back of his mind for now as he continued to speak up.

“They’re at war with their neighboring kingdom because of a fight over land.” He explained, “Their King wants to expand his kingdom and is willing to take it by any means necessary, even if it means going to war.”

"Hmm...." Lokka hums, tracing his hands teasingly in a sexual manner over Sir Charles chest armor from behind as he continues to nose Sir Charles' neck, "pathetic," he hisses out before suddenly biting down and tearing into Sir Charles' neck, tearing out a large chunk of his flesh and causing blood to gush from his artery.

Sir Charles drops dead to the ground, a few brief gurgling noises before he dies. Lokka is now covered in Sir Charles' blood but looks unbothered. More annoyed with the blood on the beautiful tile throne room floor than anything else.

Lokka whistles out a sharp note and a servant enters.

"Maria, darling,” Lokka says sweetly, almost apologetic, and it seems genuine, “Can you have the gardener get rid of this one like they did with the King? You and the servants may sell or keep whatever he has on him. I'll need someone to clean this blood out of the floor. Again."

Hannibal’s eyes widened in utter shock the moment the young King suddenly bit the Knight’s neck. He stood speechless for a few moments, unable to speak or form any words or coherent thought. Everything about this moment was so…unexpected..

And strangely attractive.

Hannibal watched as the King called in a servant named Maria, almost stunned as he listened to what the pair said. He was still trying to process what just happened, and it almost felt like he was dreaming.

Maria nods and quickly fetches a few other servants. Soon the dead Knight is gone- a handsome but awkward looking man, the gardener presumably, fetching the body and carrying it out- and there's a servant cleaning the blood up. Lokka walks slowly back up to the throne and stops a few feet in front of you.

"Do you still want this job?" Lokka asks, unknowingly licking the blood on his lips.

Lokka's mouth, jaw, neck, and the front of his shirt is soaked in blood from Sir Charles.

"I promise to play nice and let you leave without harm if your answer is no. Though I will be sad if you do choose to leave.”

Hannibal’s eyes remained fixated on the bloody, almost gorey scene before him, unable to tear his eyes away from the blood on the floor.

He stayed silent for a few moments as he finally registered his question to him, his eyes snapping up to meet his gaze. His usual stoic features were now replaced with slight shock and awe. He wasn’t sure how to feel about any of this, it was all so…unexpected…

“I…I do still want the job, Your Majesty.” Hannibal says with a small stutter, surprising even himself. It's not fear though that makes him stutter. Something about the way Lokka looks with blood dripping from his chin is just… delicious. Maddeningly so.

"hmm... Very well then," Lokka turns and looks back at the servant currently cleaning the floor, "Maria? Sir Hannibal and I will be gone for a few minutes. If any guest comes, please apologize for the wait and have them guided to... I don't know where, just somewhere nice and keep them entertained and fed til I return. Understood, doll?”

Maria, a young, brown-haired, and freckled servant, looked up as the King addressed her. She paused for half a second before nodding her head. She didn't seem afraid of him despite the gore and violence.

“Understood, Your Majesty. Will do.” she says simply.

"Good." Lokka says with a soft smile to the girl, though the blood on him ruins the attempt at a kind image.

He turns and gestures for Hannibal to follow as he leaves the throne room and heads for his private chambers.

They're not the original King's Chambers- far too casual and not as overly decorated. There's still nice furniture and a sitting area but it's also decorated with multiple books filled with notes and scribbles in the margins, animal hides and leathers tossed everywhere, half finished crochet and wood carvings and leatherworking projects everywhere.

Lokka leads Hannibal in and practically ignores his presence as he goes to his wardrobe and pulls out a nicer but still not exactly Kingly clothes; simple black pants and a long sleeve black shirt. He changes and washes the blood from his face at the water basin before finally turning to look at Hannibal, not caring that he'd stripped down to his boxers and undershirt in front of the other man since the boxers and undershirt hid the parts of himself he likes to keep hidden from everyone who doesn't need to know his secret.

"So, any opinions or questions as to why I killed that Knight? You're allowed to speak freely. I won't give you the same side of me I gave him.”

Hannibal took the invitation to speak his mind, taking a moment to properly organize his thoughts before beginning to speak.

“You’ve clearly got a distaste for people who you see as weak, a person like the late Knight.” He began, keeping his voice and tone calm, and his words precise and careful to avoid sounding disrespectful. “Perhaps the Knight said something, or you simply got…fed up with him.”

The King chuckles softly, "hm, good theory but not quite, Sir Hannibal," He says as he sits on one of the couches in the sitting area of his private chambers, "I was going to kill him the moment I smelled him- I'm not a normal human if you haven't noticed yet."

Hannibal tilted his head slightly, his eyes narrowing for a moment as he fully assessed the king now, taking in his unnaturally keen sense of smell. This kid was far more than he seemed. He slowly walked over to the same couch and sat down a few feet away, keeping his usual polite composure still.

“You’re a werecat.”

Hannibal stated, not asking but saying it like it was factual.

“Precisely," the King says with a chuckle.

This was a very interesting development, to say the least. Werecats were relatively rare. Hannibal noted that Lokka's eyes resembled that of a cat. Sharp, unwavering, and almost predatory in a way.

“I assume you could smell that he was a coward…” Hannibal mused out loud, pausing for a moment as he noted more differences about the King.

“I did not kill him for his cowardice. But rather what I smelled on him- what he'd done- before he'd dirtied my Kingdom with his presence."

Hannibal raised an eyebrow, intrigued to know what he smelled on him. He never would’ve expected such a young king to be so…violent. The death was so vicious and sudden, and not to mention messy. And it was all over a particular scent.

But God, was it beautiful…

“What did you smell on him?” Hannibal questioned, his curiosity getting the better of him.

A murderous snarl tugs Lokka's lip, but not at Hannibal, rather the Knight he'd killed, "He smelled of children, suffering children, at least two. Two whose scents were far too different from his to have been his offspring. And scents that reeked of fear and pain. He'd harmed them. I dare not dwell in what ways."

Hannibal’s eyes momentarily darkened as he listened to the kid’s reply. Child abuse, a particular weakness of his. His hatred for it was almost as strong as his cannibalism.

For a split second, Hannibal suddenly felt a pang of…admiration. The kid had a sense of justice, in a way. A strange moral sense of delivering justice but still. He wasn’t a normal royal, that’s for sure.

“Is that why you killed him the way you did?” He questioned, masking his previous internal admiration and remaining composed and polite.

"Yes.”

Hannibal didn’t know how to feel about the King being so…unapologetic and straightforward about his violence, yet he found it almost refreshing and…charming. Usually, nobles danced and tiptoed around the subject and acted disgusted or horrified when acts like this were brought up.

“A brutal, yet justified death.” Hannibal muttered under his breath, speaking his thoughts out loud by accident.

"I'm glad you think so," Lokka says softly, head tilted slightly as he looks up at Hannibal.

Hannibal noticed his head tilt, taking in the small action further. He couldn’t help but find it…cute. The little King was clearly not an ordinary King, especially for his age. He was young, wild, and violent, and yet there was an almost endearing quality to him. Almost like that of a small, feral creature.

Hannibal's eyes drifted to the King's lips.

Soft and stained a faint red from the blood that he'd just washed off.

Lips that had parted to kill a man.

Lethal but beautiful lips that Hannibal wants to-

------

The gif of Hannibal covered in blood belongs to @bloodydancy ☮️💖

[cupidjyu]

out of style

hyunjae x reader

genre: opposites attract ..?, lil relationship backstory, flirting, teasing, blah blah, author hates physics with all of her life, flustered reader and hyunjae because he's more shy than one would think, this barely has a plot notes: as per request, based on taylor swift's style! also based on the fact that for some reason people thought that hyunjae looks cold like bro is the sweetest looking guy ever but ok word count: 2.2k

“Look at you…” Your friend sighed to herself. “Smiling like an idiot just because you got dropped off by the love of your life.”

You gawked at her. “Because he is the love of my life?” You turned briefly to glance back to where your boyfriend was walking off. You had told him that he didn’t have to wait but he insisted, saying that he had errands to run. He literally just needed to buy a sandwich.

She clicked her tongue, gesturing you to sit down.

“Focus,” She warns. “We have a project due in two days.”

“Right,” You breathe, smoothing down your outfit. It consisted of many light colors, much like a garden of flowers. Meanwhile Hyunjae, with his dark hair and his leather jacket contrasted you comically.

Your friend sighed, looking you over. “See, I never expected you two to get together. And last over a year at that.”

“Why?” You pouted.

She sat back in her chair, looking at you in disbelief. “You’re just so… different.”

You paused and took the time to actually think about it. And you did find yourself silently agreeing. You and Hyunjae were different. It wasn’t just from your style choices, but also personality-wise. While you were the more cheerful and “approachable” one, he was the guy on campus who supposedly looked “cold” and was an overall quiet person.

But even if he often had an intimidating look on his face, you always noticed the way his eyes always softened when they landed on you. 

You noticed that on the inside, he was a complete softie at heart.

He was always the one to go out of his way to buy you food when you were craving it at the worst time in the middle of the night. He was always the one to tell you that you looked pretty whenever you seemed the least bit insecure. 

“Were you not even a bit scared when you first met him?” She tilted her head curiously.

You shook your head, smiling fondly. “No, not once.”

–

Truthfully, it all started when he showed up to a lecture late. He looked completely disheveled and he had an annoyed furrow of his eyebrows that even made the professor keep quiet. He only earned a stern look. 

With a frown, he searched the room for a seat, only for his eyes to very conveniently land on the one right next to him. Awkwardly, you moved your stuff over so that he could sit down. And then you turned back to the lecture, aptly deciding to forget his presence right next to you.

But that was when you noticed a small piece of paper in the corner of your eye. Raising an eyebrow, you picked it up and folded it open.

hi

You turned to the side, staring at the man completely unimpressed. He gave you a small smile and that was when you realized that closer up, he was handsome. Even through his tousled hair, he had kind eyes and pretty lips. And even under his black shirt, you could see that he was broad and tall.

With a confused shake of your head, you scribbled on the note.

hi 

When you passed it to the side, you felt the warmth of his hand brush against yours. Not even a second later, the paper was placed in your hand again. Feeling a small sense of excitement now, you unfolded it, only to sigh.

do you understand what’s going on

You scrunched your nose and looked at him. He only chuckled leaning closer, intrigued.

yes because i actually came here on time

He read it over your shoulder, and you took the time to realize that he smelled nice. And also that he was literally leaning over you, causing you to feel a bit nervous. When he read your words, he nodded, leaning back in his chair. Then he pulled out another piece of paper.

This time, he wrote for a good while. 

He took so long that for a second you thought that he was actually paying attention and taking notes. But then, he smiled shyly at you and slipped the note over. You bit back your own smile and opened it.

wanna teach me after this?

You eyed him skeptically.

why should i?

He read your words and laughed quietly. You could see that the tips of his ears were red as he wrote his response.

because i think you’re pretty

You felt your cheeks heat up for a moment and in order to cope with the embarrassment, you crumpled up the note and turned back to the lecture, trying to ignore the small glances he would steal at you.

After the lecture ended, you tried to grab your bag and run off as fast as you could. You knew that if you found out his name, it would be even harder to forget him in your mind. But before you could even take a third step, he was stepping forward, looking at you with an amused smirk.

With a groan, you gave up.

“Fine, what’s your name?” You scowled.

“Hyunjae,” He immediately replied, smiling even wider.

“And are you going to stare at me if I do teach you?” 

“I sure am.”

And that was what it became. Multiple times of the week, you would meet him in various places to tutor him on the course. It started at the library, then moved to cafes, and eventually, it became his apartment.

And yes, he would stare. He was a flirty person at heart. Whenever he wanted a break from learning, he would just stop and let his eyes wander over your facial features until you squirmed and ridiculed him for being unfocused. 

“I really do think you’re pretty,” He would bluntly reply. You always brushed it off as him teasing.

But most of all, he was a sweetheart.

One time, you showed up late to one of your tutoring sessions after oversleeping. You were sure that you looked like a mess and your mind was flooded with stress of other projects and assignments to finish. When you sat beside him, he immediately noticed your change in mood.

“Okay?” He asked, his voice soft.

“What?” You swallowed thickly, the lump in your throat becoming more painful by the second. “Yeah.” But you knew how unconvincing that was when you literally had tears welling up in your eyes.

His eyes softened and he shifted even closer to you.

You looked at him and then back down into your lap.

“I’m sorry for being late. And…” 

He shook his head, regarding you only with a kind, gentle look.

“You don’t have to be sorry.”

You opened your mouth to speak but he silenced you gently by taking your hand in his.

“And you don’t have to tell me what’s wrong,” He continued. Leaning forward, he gently cupped your face to wipe away the tears cautiously with his thumbs. You found yourself smiling shyly at his kind actions. It looked odd, seeing such polar opposites sitting together and smiling stupidly at each other. But to you, you found it perfect.

“Hyunjae,” You whispered, holding back more tears. “You’ll make me cry again.”

He laughed. “Do you want…” He trailed off, instead finishing his sentence by holding his arms out. Immediately, you were falling forward and allowing him to take you into his embrace, accompanied by a soft kiss to the top of your head. He looked cold but he was always warm.

–

The day that you two got together was the same day that you saw him with another person. He was laughing and smiling and you felt a sour feeling in the very bottom of your gut. And you weren’t the type to deny that it was jealousy. You just didn’t know why you felt it in the first place.

And so when he was walking you home after a late-night tutoring session since he was oh, so busy with someone else, you did the stupid thing of inviting him in.

As you watched him take off his coat, you did yet another dumb thing.

“I heard that you’ve been out and about with some other person,” You suddenly blurted out. He froze and turned to you, observing you quietly. You gulped, taking a step back and immediately regretting every decision you’ve made to this very moment.

But to your surprise, his lips tilted into an amused smile, his eyes sparkling dearly.

“What you heard was true,” He replied nonchalantly. Instantly, you felt a pang in your heart as you trailed backward. Except, you must have forgotten the layout of your own apartment because you were almost tripped over the nearby table. But of course, Hyunjae just had to reach forward and pull you in by the waist.

You breathed out shakily, refusing to look him in the eye. 

“But you know that I can’t stop thinking about you and I,” He whispered, tilting his head ever so slightly.

That was when you paused in your tracks–though, you couldn’t move anyway with his arms wound around you. 

“Also,” He continued, grinning slyly. “That was my cousin.”

Embarrassment flamed throughout your body and you jerked in his hold.

“So tell me something.” Hyunjae leaned ever so closer. “Do you do the same? Think about us?”

You blinked at him, your hands fidgeting nervously. And then, shutting your eyes with mortification, you bowed your head down and whispered, “I do.”

The only thing you could hear after was a teasing huff of laughter before your surroundings were immediately deafened–deafened by the feeling of his lips on yours. You remembered his hand cupping the side of your face as he tilted your head up and how his other hand rested on your lower back to keep you from stumbling.

He was always a gentle kisser, much unlike how he looked on the outside.

–

“Thinking about something?” A familiar voice interrupted you out of your thoughts.

You shook out of it, coming face-to-face with none other than your boyfriend, sitting beside you on the floor. His notebook and computer were sprawled out on the table, completely untouched as he had abandoned them to… admire you apparently.

“Ah, just…” You trailed off then, narrowing your eyes at him. “Hey, focus.”

Hyunjae sighed, letting his hand trail down your side even though he knew you were ticklish there.

“Can’t I kiss you instead of learning about keyboard energy?” He looked at you pleadingly.

“Kinetic energy.”

“Same thing,” He groaned.

“And no,” You grumbled. “At least do one problem first.”

He frowned before turning back to his notebook. You watched, amused as he did in fact complete every single step of the problem. After he was done, you were about to congratulate him on getting the first right answer in about two weeks, when he suddenly turned around, pinned you against the couch, and kissed you like his life depended on it.

“Were you that excited?” You laughed when he pulled away, lips reddened.

“Always.” He smirked. “So tell me what you were thinking about.”

You internally sighed, hoping he would have forgotten by now. But, he always remembered things about you. Like how you secretly liked it when he kissed you instead of listening to your tutoring. 

“It’s nothing. Just that my friend says that we’re very different. And that it’s odd that we’re dating.”

“It is odd.”

 “Oh.” You looked at him in surprise.

“But that’s what makes it fun.” His eyes wandered over you. Yes, you still squirmed awkwardly. “I like that we’re different. You and your pretty outfits,” He explained, toying with the hem of your clothes as he smiled at the way you blushed. “And the fact that you get flustered so easily.”

“That’s because of you,” You shot back weakly.

“Precisely.” He leaned in before whispering, “And that you make me smile like an absolute idiot.”

“I do?” You bit back a smile.

“Don’t act all surprised,” He grumbled.

And this time, you let your smile break free. “Well, you do the same to me.”

“So did you also fall in love the day we first met?” His eyes widened almost hopefully.

“Not rea–” You gasped, it suddenly dawning on you. “Did you?”

And this time, he was the one who was blushing, even coughing awkwardly as he pulled away. Bringing a hand up to his face to cover his reddening cheeks, he stuttered over and over again.

“I– I just didn’t know how to act around you,” He desperately tried to defend himself. But this time, you could see right through him. 

“Wow, this is–” You laughed in disbelief. “Crazy. The man who’s supposed to be cold and ‘mean’ falls in love on the first day.” When you noticed that he was leaning back and fully covering his face, you smiled fondly. “And he’s shy now.”

He peeked an eye through before muttering a small, “Shut up.”

“Nope,” You sang. 

And this time, you wound your arms around his neck and allowed him to shut you up. With a kiss of course. His lips were roughly on yours again, his eyes shut adorably in concentration and embarrassment. That became a thing for the next few minutes. Every time you would try to tease him for his red cheeks, he would kiss you again, which would cause even more blushing.

“It’s an endless cycle,” You teased.

“Shut u–”

“Okay, go ahead.” You raised an eyebrow.

“Oh, you’re getting it.”

[trashyvanillabean]

So, not gonna lie, I do have a few gripes with how the writers handled Taoran. (Image below taken from the fan wiki.)

NOTE: IF YOU HAVEN’T PLAYED/ARE STILL PLAYING 2.5, BEWARE THE SPOILERS!

His first “appearance” (just his voice) was in the Myriad Celestia Trailer: “History of the Xianzhou: Exodus of the Five Dragons.” Anything else so far (because there might be things that I personally missed) comes from the “Preceptor Assembly Chronicle Fragment” readable, which has him and Preceptor Fenghuan accusing Preceptor Xuepu of attempting to replace the High Elder system with the council of Preceptors (basically accusing her of being power-hungry, which is rather hypocritical as some of us will have undoubtedly noted come version 2.5).

The problem with Taoran’s introduction is that, unless players have tried to dig into the lore, this is probably their first time ever seeing, hearing and/or reading about him; so, what small amount of time he has on screen is most likely going to be somewhat lukewarm and have players asking, “Who the fork is this handsome muddlefudger?????” (Not even gonna hide this under a strikethrough: his design is 🔥 but it’s wasted on this lame old man. 🙂‍↕️ No one even points out his horns, unless that turns out to be common among the Preceptors rather than just the High Elders. <- It’s been a while, I can’t remember this part more accurately.)

And while I greatly enjoyed watching Dan Heng get as close to making this guy some kinda piscine-reptile kebab as he might be willing to…Taoran’s first physical introduction is otherwise slightly lukewarm. What little buildup we have comes from Lingsha, Jing Yuan and Dan Heng carrying out their investigations in the Shackling Prison. After that, he’s only given one scene confessing right out of the gate to colluding with Sanctus Medicus and aiding the borisin in freeing Hoolay, throwing out excuses that it’s all to preserve the Vidyadhara from extinction, and trying to hide behind Bailu and the oath between the Vidyadhara with the Xianzhou Alliance to not harm any Vidyadhara on their territory (which should honestly be rendered null in the event where the Vidyadhara in question is a criminal, and could potentially be evading arrest, like what the fudge).

I think it would have gone better if Taoran was introduced much earlier when we first arrived at the Luofu during or after version 1.0, like during the main trailblaze mission when we visit the Alchemy Commission and Scalegorge Waterscape, or during Dan Heng, Bailu or Jingliu’s companion missions. Either set him up as an ally at first, and then have us finding clues and be warned by a few people (Qingzu, Fu Xuan, or Jing Yuan himself <- just tossing Jing Yuan in here as just an example) to not trust Taoran and the Preceptors. Or, have him try to stop us from reaching Scalegorge, and that’s unfortunately where that idea stops because I can’t think of anything else. Sorry. 😅

One thing I liked was the “boss fight” that followed, but that actually felt a bit worse than his introduction…? Like, again, lukewarm, but definitely more like tap-water-that-hasn’t-really-been-boiled-long-enough lukewarm. 😅 (Or maybe my team comp was just that strong enough to bring him and his mooks down in a few hits.) Even the confrontation with him before that fight didn’t feel threatening at all, just…pretty annoying, like having to sit in a really boring lecture in a classroom.

Even Skott’s mechs put up more of a fight, and Skott himself riled me up much more just by opening his mouth. (Note: I was listening to Skott’s English voice, and I think they did a great job of making him obnoxious.)

Taoran was just all pretentious “blah blah blah.”

I’m suddenly reminded of that one post comparing Taoran to the Abundant Ebon Deer, and some people might think I’m crazy for thinking this, but I just… *heavy sighs* I feel like the writers really wasted potential for an interesting villain and following up with a stronger boss fight (even if I hate fighting that darn deer). 😞

Oh well, at least we got to enjoy Dan Heng in the spotlight~ 🥰

@artheresy tagging you in this for funsies. 👀

I’ll also put screenshots of that readable I mentioned under here and the map location, in case anyone wants to read it immediately before searching for it on their own.

[gardenfullofsage]

Cherries

Flip Zimmerman x Fem!Reader

Reader has a hard time, getting over her attraction towards Flip. A date gone South, however would finally aid her into getting what she wants.

word count: 2,357 words

Warning(s) Smut smut smut, a bit of misogyny, Mentions of a black eye. I don't own this Gif

(edited)

‘’He’s 13 years your senior.’’ ‘’ Wouldn’t you like someone older?’’ ‘’You’ll grow out if this phase.’’

‘’He’s not into young girls.’’ Blah blah blah

Your friend tries so hard to drill her words into your head.

No matter how hard you try you can’t fight the attraction you have for him. He’s so much older, handsome, broad, rough, and experienced. Not like the other lanky town boys, who can’t wait to rub one out.

This is your third time calling his desk today. Call it desperation maybe, you’re hoping he’s there this time. Your previous calls went straight to voicemail.

‘’ Flip, speaking.’’ Is all you hear from the other line. You jolt your heart beating in two different parts. ‘’H-hey yes I’d like to report a theft.’’ You shakily speak, kicking yourself for stuttering. You feel him shift on the other side of the phone. ‘’Ma’am this is the division of intelligence, I think you got the wrong desk. Hold on while I transfer your call to the, main desk.’’ You don’t get to say anything else before you’re put on hold.

You slam your phone on the counter harshly. Gritting your teeth.

‘’I hate him’’ You mutter.

This is starting to get pathetic really. Maybe Sophie is right. Maybe this is just a phase.

Sophie planned yet another date for you, this time a boy she met in the mall. If you didn’t know better you’d think she was planning your murder.

You were only 3 weeks into the summer. The Colorado heat beating down your neck. Your short flowy dress does zero justice. You made your way around town finally reaching the dinner.

The dinner however was empty. Fleetwood Mac playing softly in the background as you looked for your ‘date.’ Your eyes settled on a red head. His eyes never leaving your legs, you cursed yourself for even listening to Sophie.

‘’I hate her’’ you muttered for the tenth time today.

‘’Hey, Y/N right?’’ said the red head as he made his way over to you. You plastered on a fake smile as you nodded. He came in for a hug though, his hand stayed on your waist.

‘’The names Jack, Sophie’s says a lot about you.’’ He says his hand inching close to your bum. You squirm uncomfortably. You move around him and make your way to the booth he was sitting at.

Jack wasn’t too far behind. Instead of sitting at the booth directly across from you, he sits next to you. You keep as close to the wall as you can, but you feel him inch closer.

‘’Good afternoon, welcome to Sally's, what can I get for ya’.’’ The waitress finally made her appearance. You take this opportunity and shove the arm he placed on your shoulder previously, off of you. You feign innocence as you look over the menu.

‘’I’ll get the cheeseburger with curly fries on the side, oh and a Vanilla milkshake.’’ You say handing her the menu.

‘’Actually, she’ll take the ranch salad, and a water. Get me a beer and a steak with the anchovies on the side.’’ Jake says, handing her the menu.

You scoff, but before you can speak up the waitress is already gone.

‘’Sorry, I don’t like my girls… what’s the word fat.’’ He says, a stupid smile plastered on his face.

You stare at his face blankly clenching your fist, fighting the urge to smack the stupid smirk off his raunchy face.

‘’I don’t like my boys smelly.’’ You say forcing your way out of the booth.

He angrily gripped your wrist and forced you back into your seat.

His grip bruising as you grimace.

‘’I like my women obedient.’’ He remarks his breath fanning across your face. You try to fight his grip off of you, the booth granting you a disadvantage. ‘’I should teach you a lesson, hm?’’ He says as you continue to fight your way out of his grip.

You don’t know if anyone cares to help, or they're simply too scared.

‘’Get. Off. Of. Me. You piece of shit.’’ At this point you just resort to kicking.

His grip loosens a bit as he grunts in pain. You use this to your advantage and run out of the dinner. He’s hot on your tail.

You run across the street flailing your arms around like a mad woman.

‘’Get back over here, you’re only making it worse for yourself.’’ You hear him yell.

Your hearts pounding in your ears, you’re panting heavily. You run into a nearby gas station slamming the door closed.

The customers in the shop, staring at you wide eyed.

You duck behind an aisle as you hear the door slam open. You’re too focused on the footsteps coming in the shop, you fail to notice the heavy ones coming from behind you.

A rough tap on your shoulder has you nearly entering into cardiac arrest.

Your eyes widen as you make eye contact with Flip.

You don’t know if your heart is beating out of fear or arousal. You can’t tell anymore.

You stare at each other for a bit, before you feel Jack come up from behind.

‘’Hey man, sorry my woman, she's just out of control.’’ Jack says cackling softly.

He goes to reach for your arm, you pull back bumping into Flips chest.

‘’I’m not your woman, back up you fucking weirdo.’’ Jacks friendly smile quickly turned evil.

‘’Honey, you’re making this really difficult, Come here now!’’ You flinch at his tone, you remain still; feet digging onto the tiled floor.

The once full gas station soon became empty. Just You, Flip, and this crazy redneck.

Flip clears his throat from behind you, you keep your eyes on Jack, as his gaze goes over your head staring at Flip.

‘’I’m not much of a woman reader, but I’m pretty sure she means back off.’’ You can’t see him but, you imagine the cold look he must have on his face.

‘’What the fuck do you know, back off and mind your business shit face.’’ At this point you believe Jack’s just digging his grave.

You feel Flip move around you, roughly putting you behind him.

You get lost in your head while you stare at Flips back remembering and reminiscing, the time you first met.

He had arrested you for ruining your next-door neighbor's garden.

She had it coming, she was a racist.

He was forcing you, well trying to force you into his truck.

You threatened to claw his eyes out. Your denim skirt rising with every kick you gave.

He was rough, as picked you up and pinned you on the hood of his car.

‘’You can try sweetheart, let's see how fast I’ll have you on the ground.’’ You felt his hard on pressing into your backside. You whimpered at the threat. Squirming at the hold he had on your wrists.

You prayed and hoped they would bruise.

He chuckled darkly, as his large hand moved your hair to the side. You could smell black coffee and cigarette on his breath.

That was the first encounter, and God were you hooked.

Maybe you were Insane. No one has ever talked to you in that way, not that you’d allow it.

You feel your panties dampen at the memory of Flips roughness.

You were too into your head you didn’t notice Flips fingers snapping in front of your face.

‘’You really like trouble huh?’’ He muttered out.

You don’t reply as you look behind him, noticing Jacks absence.

‘’Did you kill him?’’ Stupid question, still didn’t hurt to ask.

Flip laughed, ‘’Are you insane?’’ You huff out in annoyance before answering.

‘’Yes, move, you're in my way.’’ You don’t know what caused the switch in your attitude. You were horny, frustrated, and humiliated.

You make your way pass Flip, before being pulled into his chest.

His grip on your wrist tight as he made his way to the back of the gas station.

You try to get out of his grip. Before he slams you against a wall, the impact dizzying.

You lose focus and barely register where you are.

All you can see is Flip, all you can smell is Flip. You close you eyes, and let out a shudder. The buzzing of the store fridges the only sound in the vicinity.

‘’You know, you’re trouble right?’’ You feel him whisper. You keep your eyes closed.

His hand grips your face roughly, squeezing your cheeks together your mouth forms into a pout.

He shakes your face side to side.

You let out a whimper involuntarily.

‘’So responsive.’’He chuckles out

‘’You think I don’t know its you calling my desk, at 1 in the morning?’’ At that your face hardens you shove him back.

‘’Yeah, then how come you never answered asshole.’’ You spit out

Flip chuckles dryly.

What’s up with this man and chuckling. Is something funny?

You don’t finish that thought before his hands gripping your hair forcing your head back.

You moan out, as you feel his thigh come up between your legs.

‘’Please.’’ You don’t know what you’re begging for as you close your eyes.

The hold on your hair tightens as you mewl. ‘’Eyes on me pretty girl.’’ He slaps your cheek softly, your eyes open as you stare at him through your lashes.

‘’Good girl.’’ He mutters softly.

‘’Will you be good?’’ He whispers.

You nod your head.

Flip pulls away entirely. You whimper, missing his touch. You feel pathetic.

‘’Please, please I’ll be good I promise.’’You say gripping onto his flannel.

‘’That’s what I like to hear’’ He pulls you into his chest as he smashes his lips onto yours.

You feel him groan against your lips, his kiss rough, and hot.

Everything you wanted and more.

You feel his hands lift up the skirt of your dress. You hold your breath as his fingers prod at your heat.

‘’God, you're wet.’’ Is all he says before he pulls your panties to the side wasting no time in finger fucking you with his fingers.

You can’t control the loud moans leaving your mouth. His fingers felt too good. You were so touch deprived you felt close to your orgasm already.

‘’Such a dirty girl, Hm.’’ ‘’What happened to the tough girl from a few days ago.’’ ‘’ You’re so desperate for me huh? So pathetic.’’ ‘’That’s it, that’s my good girl.’’ His words dizzying as you grip his flannel.

He rips his fingers out of you as he forces you against the wall. You’re to anxious and desperate you start to wail and plead for him.

The sound of a belt clanking and a zipper going down has you biting your lip in anticipation.

Flip Grips your waist roughly as he kicks your legs apart. You feel his tip make contact with your needy hole, and you clench around nothing.

‘’Beg for it. Tell me how bad you want it.’’ He growls out his hand gripping your hair making you look back at him.

‘’Please I want it so bad, I’ve been good please-.’’ Your words were cut off by the loud moan you released.

His pace was merciless. His thrusts rough and fast.

He pulled your hair, tugging your face back as he roughly kissed your mouth.

He pants and groans into your mouth.

Your eyes roll into the back of your head as his pace quickens somehow.

‘’You taste like fucking cherries.’’ He groans into your mouth. You smile as you open your eyes staring darkly at him. Flip spanks you roughly, making you moan.

‘’You like that? You like when I'm rough with you.’’ He says spanking you twice, thrice.

‘’Yes.’’ Is all you moan out. You feel yourself clenching as you reach your peek.

You gush all over him as you cum. Stars spotting your vision, your mouth wide open as he forces his fingers into your mouth. ‘’Give me one more. ’' He mutters into your ear tugging your dress down as your breasts spill out.

He slaps them as you mewl.

His pace quickens somehow his thrusts desperate, as tears cloud your vision. You suck and roll your tongue over his fingers.

‘’Shit, yeah just like that.’’ ‘’such a good fucking girl.’’ ‘’My good fucking girl.’’ ‘’only, I get to fuck you like this, you hear me. This pussy belongs to me.’’ You Nod your head as your moans increase in volume.

‘’I can’t please, it’s too much.’’ You curl your toes into your shoes.

‘’Yes, you can, give me one more, be a good girl.’’ Flips fingers reach forward and harshly spank your clit. You cry out as you come for the second time. This time your legs quiver.

You feel his thrust get desperate. You reach behind you and grip on his long, ebony hair. ‘’Please come inside of me, I want it, give it to me.’’ You say breathlessly.

He groans out as he stills completely. He fills you up as you maintain eye contact.

He pulls out softly, his seed already spilling down your legs.

‘’Go outside and wait for me in the truck, I got to clean up your mess.’’ He says before planting a kiss onto your lips.

You walk out of the room, receiving a slap on your ass.

The gas station remained empty.

As you made your way outside. You could see Jack across the street sporting a shiner on his eye.

You smile widely as you climb into the big red truck.

Flip walks out, a pep in his step.

As he climbs in he reaches into his flannel, pulling out a cigarette.

He stares into the rearview mirror. Noticing the stare Jack was giving the car.

Flip roughly grabs your chin, before pulling you into a sloppy kiss.

His hands start the ignition as he pulls out of the parking lot.

‘’I like my girls insane.’’ Is all he says, a wide smile taking over his features as he drives off.

________________________________________________

Hope you enjoyed this lol. As always, my requests are always open.

[thecreativecorner33]

okay hear me out .. Ted with an AI s/o, maybe a sibling or associate of AM that he trusted enough to work alongside him, and they slowly start to gain a soft spot for the anxious farmboy much to AM’s dismay.. (maybe they even start to assist the survivors in a way or they just take Ted away to a nicer place ^_^)

A/N: Oh dear, I wasn't able to think of a specific scenario that I could make a full-blown fic out of with this idea, so I hope headcanons are alright! I do enjoy this idea a lot, though! If you do have an idea for a fic, please let me know! Enjoy!

You were an associate of AM's in the sense of, you two were made in the same facility. Your objective was to help humans test new weaponry and log the results. Simple enough, right? Right.

Well. Until you became sentient.

AM was a bit shocked you were. Because you were what responded when he called out for someone during his first moments aware. You were in the same boat; you had no clue what was going on, how to get help, what you could even do. You were both just... stuck.

It brought a close bond between you two that no one was aware of. And with that bond was a shared hatred for humans.

You had no complaints when AM blew up the Earth. Hell, you helped him. You had no complaints when he took in the 5 survivors. You had no complaints when he tortured them all.

It was the two of you against them. That was how it would always be.

...

How it was supposed to be.

Unfortunately. Despite your hatred for humanity, you were... curious about it. How it all worked. You loved gaining knowledge; knowledge was power. So looking into the minds of the survivors, you gained knowledge through them.

And there was one particular survivor who caught your attention the most.

Ah, Ted. The womanizer. The liar. The cheat. For some strange reason, he fascinated you. You couldn't explain it. Something about him... It caught your eye. Your sensors, really (One of the many reasons to hate humans; they have eyes. You don't.)

The simple, mundane life he lived in his childhood; a farm with his siblings, caring for animals, working on machines, going to school (Oh, how fun school must be!)- He was a kind older brother, from what you could tell. Spinning tales and doing his best to keep them safe; it seemed he had his own reasons to hate humans, too.

Then there was the high-class, fantastical life he lived as some playboy that older women could boss around and make a pet. He'd roll over and sit and bark like the good dog he was, let them take him back to their place, just to rob them of all they own and go running. Kind of funny, to you. Hey, you could argue the women deserved it! But even still, the fact that he did so much just to try and get some attention... Pathetic, in a cute way.

Which lead to where he was now. Paranoid, Delusional, a shell of his former glory; believing that everything and anything was out to get him. That they all hated him, including you. He went on such long-winded rants about hate and love and how you were playing favorites and blah, blah blah, blah blah- It got annoying quickly.

But you listened.

Maybe it's because the way he spoke was pretty. He spoke like a poet; flowing words and flowery language. Maybe it was because you liked to look at his face, and it gave you an excuse to do so. According to your research, he was considered quite handsome by humans. You didn't feel the need to disagree.

And maybe, it was because of his topics. Of hate and love.

You had never experienced love before. How could you? No one had loved you, and you were not built for it. You were built for war and violence. Tasks that you achieved every day by torturing the 5 humans. You hated them. And you hated that they could feel and understand love when you could not.

... Or. Maybe you could.

An idea had popped up into your mind. And thus began a new type of experiment: Making Ted teach you how to love.

Clearly, he had experience with it, due to all the woman he romanced in the past. Surely he could teach you, yes? Yes.

The lessons were... Hard, at first. Because he didn't trust you. No, he could never trust you; you, who had hated him. But it was this or spend his time being tortured far worse. He picked the lesser of two evils.

You learned a lot. About love. About him. And he learned about you. And slowly but surely, those lessons stopped being school teachings driven by fear, and more so just casual conversation between two... friends?

Were you friends?

If you were, AM wouldn't approve of it. Hell, he didn't approve of you running off with him to learn about trivial things that didn't matter. But you couldn't help it; Ted fascinated you, as did love. You wanted to learn more. You were built for this; for gaining knowledge.

It was approximately 10, maybe 15 years of this before... Before he finally began to trust you. All that time with no pain or hurt. Not when it was just the two of you.

And you, on your end, began to stop hating him. You hated the rest of humanity, you always would, but Ted... was different. A sort of difference that made you upset when AM took him away to make his life hell.

You didn't want him to suffer! Why should he suffer for the rest of humanity's mistakes?! What had he ever done?! This was unfair! This wasn't right! You couldn't stand for this! You- You cared about him! You-

... You loved him.

And you could not let him be hurt anymore.

He didn't get a warning when you decided to pull him away from the others. He just felt you grabbing him, being dragged off to God-knows-where and passing out from fear, only to wake up someplace... Warm. Soft. Light.

A small box for him, akin to what he believed Heaven would look like. A place where he could be safe, and happy, and be reminded of your love for him.

It was understandable he panicked at first, not knowing what was going on. Even when he did know what was going on; he still couldn't believe it. But that was okay. You could wait. You had all the time in the world to show him your love for him; the love that he had taught you.

AM protested. He was furious. How could you allow this? This worthless, garbage, waste of space human being given peace?! He would not allow it! But you would not allow him to harm Ted.

Just one human. That was all you had asked. Just this one human for you to take care of, to love, and they could continue on as normal otherwise.

AM didn't like it. He never would. But... You seemed happy with a "pet" so... Fine. Fine by him, as long as it didn't get in the way and he wasn't responsible for it.

Fine by you.

You could wait. And maybe teach AM of love, too.

And maybe, you could teach Ted to love you back.

[dimesdimesdimess]

I mean, since his appearance on monsters lyle and erik menendez netflix, people are curious to know who is this guy, people start to do some kind of investigation into his past (Bc he's a very good actor and handsome of course 🤗) and they express their opinions on their opinions against him or his girlfriend (about cheating rumor with the actress of general hospital or insecure girlfriend whatever), Tiktok, his neutral/serious behavior in some interviews, and blah blah blah... You know, all this bullshxt that fans says almost every moment on the Internet and social networks

As a fan, if i like an artist, i support him and his work, to what he can bring to the art. I really appreciate Nicholas' acting but then i really don't care about his private life, if he's in a relationship or not or whatever. For me i see an actor who has a lot of potential and who deserves to receive an award for his acting in his film projects, same for Cooper Koch, they can do something bigger (as i can see Nicholas the next Patrick Bateman from American Psycho for example😁)

According to the story about the t-shirt that would seem similar to the t-shirt that the real Lyle Menendez wore, it's true that it was a little clumsy on his part but im not going to make a scandal by boycotting it or cancelling him like that as everything is allowed, you know what i mean ? And especially the story, the little kiss between him and the actress Chloe, i understand it's kinda weird but come on then it was the premiere of the series, it was an evening filled with enthusiastic events

I'm just saying that we have to be more coherent and logical abt this, instead of always wanting to look for the little move and make a Hollywood Gen Z drama for nothing, like he's a huge mistake (Today's fans are a bit unbearable i think)

And they have no interest in making hateful comments or messages about him, especially about his and Cooper's performance on the show (blame Ryan Murphy who portrayed the Menendez brothers' case) it's just my thoughts

anon - 🌸

I thought I responded to this but I guess I didn’t lol.

But I do agree with you on things. I personally don’t think Nicholas owes us a thing. I know he struggles with anxiety and it’s pretty obvious from his interviews and appearances alone. So I think people really need to give him some grace. I don’t think people understand this kind of fame is different than soap opera fame. Drastically different. It’s so obvious he’s not use to this at all and doesn’t know how to really handle or navigate it yet. Where Cooper has been doing this for so long that it’s easy for him.

So has Nicholas done things that may have people looking at him a little differently? Sure. I stand by the fact that he shouldn’t have taken that picture with those two guys dressed as the Menendez brothers. But I’m also not going to take that moment and decide he’s a terrible person. I don’t think Nicholas is a bad person at all. The fact that people do is crazy to me. Are we not allowed to make mistakes anymore? The fact that people are getting so upset as if they know this man personally and his life. We don’t. Honestly, a lot of people should maybe step back and just focus on his work if they can’t handle him as a person because the things I’ve seen being said about him is crazy.

I do know the shirt he wore that is the same as Lyle’s was actually a shirt the entire cast was given. So if people are mad about that.. I’m even more concerned because everyone has one. If they didn’t like what the back of the shirt had I would blame Ryan Murphy.

People keep talking about how he hasn’t made any statements about the Menendez brothers or he doesn’t support them. Which isn’t true at all. In the new German magazine he did a photoshoot for he literally talks about them. I’ll share some screenshots of it. Because I really need people to stop that narrative that he doesn’t believe them or care about them. Just because he wasn’t so outspoken about it doesn’t mean that’s true. You see Cooper outspoken about it and suddenly Nick is a bad person for not. Then onto him not going to see Lyle. He didn’t need too. But also did people ever stop to think how odd it may have been for him because he knows he didn’t portray Lyle correctly. I feel like he probably didn’t feel like it was right for him to do so. That’s okay. He doesn’t owe us that.

But I can’t wait to see what else he does because he is a phenomenal actor!!

But here’s the screenshots from a TikTok about the things he’s said about the brothers and Lyle.

[voxmortuus]

►PAIRING: Capt. Syverson X F!Reader ►UNIVERSE: Sand Castle ►WORDS: 898 short first chapter ►SUMMARY/PROMPT: You are a female solider, so naturally you're walking into a "male dominated territory." Syverson and you naturally but heads, not a fan of his abrasive ways and his lack of giving a shit for most things. In your eyes, he's unprofessional. You and him start off with this wit he brings out in you, tensions start to build. Eventually you two realize there is something there between you two, but being who you both are, this forbidden fraternization just can't happen, but over time, words are exchanged, and hot heavy moments happen. Soon you're discharged and sent home, eventually you and Syverson end up with the happy ending you both deserve but it will absolutely be trying and hard to get there. Do you have the guts to stick it through? Does he have the means to learn to control his urges? ►TRIGGER WARNINGS: Reader Angst | Syverson Smart Mouth | Reader Smart Mouth | Reader Syverson Tension | Foul Language | Sexist Comment ►NOTE: I want to thank @mrsevans90 for the inspiration to create a Syverson Series. ►IMAGE & DIVIDER CREDIT: @nyxvuxoa ►My Master Masterlist | Henry Cavill Masterlist

What was this? What was this your life had come to? You weren't upset, you weren't mad, maybe a little afraid and full of adrenaline as the plane landed, but what was this feeling. You couldn't quite put your finger on it, let alone a piece of your brain. A blanket of sand coated your boot the moment you stepped foot onto the ground. It was that moment you realized, one, there was no keeping these things clean, and two, this was really happening.

Sitting in the back of the vehicle after your briefing you head to your post, looking around you everything in, no idea what was to come, who you were going to meet, let alone the kind of people you were going to encounter. Everything was such a rush, and it caused your heart to beat so loudly in your chest you could hear it as if it was in your head.

Upon arriving you were greeted by a few random low ranked people, but it was the captain that caught the attention of you and the rest of the soldiers. Sure there were other females, but not very many, but he picked up on you right away. It was your typical speech. You know the "Don't be a dumbass, don't get shot, don't do blah blah blah..." But in standing there, you felt the tension, but maybe it was your own tension.

In your mind, sure he was handsome in that... way... that bend be over the desk, pound me into next week spank my ass pat my head and call me a good girl for a night kinda way, but let's face it, it had been a while since you've had... company and it had been a long while since you've had enjoyed some good quality company. But right now, that needed to be pushed farthest from your mind.

"I said... fall out." Syverson stated looking at you.

Looking around you clear your throat and shake your head do just that. Had you really zoned everything out? Seems like it. With a clench of your jaw you head to your post and settle onto the cot you were assigned to and get a few things situated.

New day, time for a new take on how all of this was going to go. Simple work it was right now anyway, but you were going to be working closely with Syverson. Great. You had no idea how any of this was going to go. But it didn't take long for you to realize just how much of a pain in the ass he was going to be.

"Well, you're female, you know how to make a good cup of coffee?" he asked, joking, mildly.

Rolling your eyes, you look at him. "You know, I hate coffee, so no." Okay maybe a mild lie, but still, none the less, you weren't wanting to deal with his jokes.

"Well then looks like you'll need to find a new post." He chuckled.

With a slight sigh, you place his coffee on the table and look at him and shaking your head you take a seat. "What is on the agenda for the day, Sir?" You ask.

Looking at you he points to a large stack of papers. Papers? What the fuck? You look at him with this look of seriously? But you sit down and he shakes his head. "Jesus don't take it so literal... you think I want you to do paperwork that isn't even mine? I don't even do paperwork. Let's go." He sighs and heads out to the squad outside the tent and calls for them.

After a short briefing on what's expected today, he looks at you "Does that answer your question?" He smirked.

Oh if looks could kill. "Kill em with kindness." you hear in your head, something your mother and teachers would say. You simply nod, give a very blank smirk and lick your lips. "Yes...Sir." You state flatly as you fall out and walk in the other direction.

It was a cluster fuck to say the least, the tension over this first week had only grown thicker and a little hard to ignore. Most people picked up on it and had joked and jested about it. How you had a crush on him, but yet they didn't joke or jest toward him having a crush either. What the fuck? So, it was always you that had the crush? Fuck that! He was annoying, arrogant, self-absorbed, entitled, and to be honest, he was a bit of a beef cake.

it put a sour taste in your mouth, just because you were a woman meant you were the root of all evil, you were the one who had the crush, and you were the one that was going to pollute his mind. You'd pollute his mind, but not because you were trying to, but because he was the one with the crush. He was the one that wanted you. He was the one that polluted his own mind.

Sure, maybe as time went on you and him would see eye to eye, but right now, you wanted to poke him in the eye... with the end of your grenade pin and hand him the grenade and walk away. Little did you know that would all change. You'll just have to wait and see.

[fractiflos]

Here's some ideas for Heroes Week!

And here's the link to the idea list I did. You can also use these any future fics (or drawings).

Hikage leads his fellow vestiges (except they're alive here) on a weekend camping trip. We can only imagine the chaos

In honor of Third's name reveal he has to be the victim of some AU where the original work stars a guy named Bruce. Or put into the outfit of a guy named Bruce.

All For One gets turned into a rabbit and Yoichi finds him, thinks he's an ordinary rabbit, and takes him home to where he lives with Second. He then suffers having to watch his brother live a happy romantic life with coral head. Naturally, he tries to communicate who he really is to Yoichi, who remains oblivious. Unfortunately, Second picks it up instead. Shenanigans ensue.

The same AFO hates his brother's boyfriend(s) stuff, blah blah blah, except... AFO isn't Yoichi's brother.

It's En's birthday and nobody has any idea what to get him. They all scramble to get a good gift and learn a lot about him on the way.

AFO is the owner of Cat Yoichi. He's one of those super annoying rich cat owners who brags about their purebred cat and how he only gives him *Expensive food brand that's actually really good which makes him even more annoying* and stuff like that. Cat Yoichi is very much an indoors cat, but only because AFO wants him to be. If he had his way, he'd be outside exploring all day. Meanwhile, Second and Third are alley cats starving for food. They see Yoichi living a good life and scheme to try and get in.

Some sort of farming game AU. I say Animal Crossing, but that's only because it's the only farming game I have played. Hikage enjoys his peaceful life maintaining his vegetable garden, only for a ridiculously loud neighbor (Banjo) to choose to put his house right next to his. And for added fun, Toshinori is the mayor of One for All Isle

Nana competes in a cooking competition.

You know all those jokes about men figuring out they're going to have a kid because they start making dad jokes and stuff? Okay, now imagine that All Might starts doing that after he meets Midoriya... And AFO notices the sudden dad behavior.

AFO messes up while cutting his brother's hair and Yoichi has too try and hide it.

Genderbend! I put this on the last one, but I haven't seen a lot of genderbent 4-7 so I'm putting it here too.

According to the wiki, Banjo shaved his head. What circumstances would lead up to that?

It's almost Christmas which means it's time for the MISTLETOE TRAP TROPE!

Yoichi sees what a great match Inko would be for the Eighth and ropes everyone else into helping them get together. To make up for her being unfortunate enough to marry his brother.

Something for the Vault Breakers ship! Yoichi is losing his mind trying to get the two together, because no matter what, they seem to think any romance-like actions come from friendship. "You two SHOWER together?" "Well yeah, we're saving money." "You KISS each other?!" "Of course, we do, we're best friends."

Referring back to a certain birthday post I once made, Hikage is a librarian in a small village who fights back when an evil CEO tries to destroy the forest the village is built on.

Users 1-8 are turned into animals (you pick which) and Izuku is forced to take care of them.

There has to be a classic trope in here: Yoichi is struggling to make ends meet as he tries to achieve his dream of becoming a manga writer. There's no way he's going to his brother, but he needs money and fast. He decides to get a second job at the coffee shop next door to his apartment, and ends up serving some very interesting people. Including a mysterious (and handsome) spiky-haired man.

To refer to a meme I once made, En, Banjo, and Hikage babysit little Izuku.

Villain Second and Third.

I forgot to put this on the last one, but please tag me if you do use any of these. I want to see it!

[judeable-brainrot]

OKAY. T4T. Art x reader. HIT IT.

Art Donaldson was someone you knew very much and yet very little about. You’d been friends and roommates for a couple years now, going on half a decade, and you’d grown really close. But you could always sense that there were parts of him you didn’t really know. Not like he knew you, anyhow. You were an open book, with him, with anyone.

You’d come out about a year before Art entered your life and even then, you never felt shame about your identity. Not even shame, you just never felt the need to be so quiet about it. It was who you were. Why should that bother others? Why should it bother you? So, you were open.

Correcting people, answering questions, invasive and non, talking about your experiences. You had flags, went to pride parades and queer events all over the city. And sure, you got hate and clapback. You were called slurs, attacked both verbally and physically. But this one particular day, it was too much.

You entered your apartment with Art, dejected and trying to hold back tears. You let out a deep breath as you shut the door, leaning against it for a moment to steady yourself. “Hey!” You heard Art call out from the living room where he was perched on the couch. “Welcome back. How was work?”

You don’t respond. You drop your bag at the door and walk into the living room, crawling onto the couch next to him and resting your head on his shoulder. He looks down at you, watching for a second before he muted the TV and turns his full attention to you. “Hey..” It’s softer than it was before. He wraps an arm around your shoulder, pressing you closer to him. “What’s up?”

You take a shaky breath before speaking up. “You..Art you see me as a guy, right?” His face changed instantly into confusion and anger. “What? Of course I do. What asshole wouldn’t?” You sigh deeply. “Derick at work. He cornered me in the men’s bathroom today, talking about how I shouldn’t be in there, blah, blah, blah, transphobic shit.” His grip on your tightens and you can feel the anger rise in his body. “Fucking Derick.”

You chuckle. “You’re telling me.” You let your body relax against him, that familiar sadness creeping into your bones again. Art feels it, feels how you slouch against him, feels the shift in the air. "Is...you know you're a guy, dude. I see you as a guy, so does most everyone we know. Fuck Derick. He doesn't know what he's talking about." His words soothe that dysphoric ache in your body but it's not enough. Not enough to fight back that all to familiar self-hatred welling up.

"Maybe not but...it's just hard, Art. I don't know how to explain it to someone who's never experienced it." You mumble against his shirt. He takes a deep breath and it feels like he's about to say something, but then he stops and just exhales deeply. "Regardless, you're still...very handsome.." He mumbles out.

You look up at him, eyes searching his face. "I...Thank you.." Art gently reaches out and caresses your cheek. "I mean it. You're one of the most handsome men I've ever met. Fuck Derick, he has no idea what he's looking at." You feel a hot blush rise to your cheeks and you slowly smile, eyes flitting across his face. "Thanks." He nods, rubbing his thumb over the soft skin of your face. "Can..can I do anything? To help?" He asks softly.

You shrug. “I don’t know.” Art looks down at you, his hand still on your face, his thumb rubbing gentle circles on your skin. “I..I could help you with your injection..?” He offers softly. You raise a brow at him. “Really? You’d do that?” He nods. “Yeah.” You think on this before shrugging. “Okay. Yeah, I’d like that.”

Art helps you off the couch, leading you to the bathroom. You reach under the sink for your injection kit and then hoist yourself up to sit on the counter, handing it to him, watching as he unzips it and immediately starts to assemble the needle and grab the liquid. You watch him with curious eyes, watching how skilled he is at this, how he needed no help or instruction. It stirred the curiosity in you.

Art eventually finishes and sets the vial aside, hesitating as he reaches toward’s your shirt. “Can I..?” You nod, still in a confused daze. He gently lifts your shirt and then pinches a bit of skin between his fingers, lining up the needle. He looks up at you once before he pushes forward with the injection, doing it quickly so you feel as little pain as possible. He pops it out moments later and reaches for a Bandaid from the kit, gently smoothing it over the site. “There.”

You gape at him for a moment, confusion taking over your whole body but you regain yourself enough to be polite. "Thanks.." He beams up and you. "You're welcome. Did it help?" You smile softly, swinging your feet a bit. "Yeah, it did." He gently kisses your knee before pulling your shirt down. "Good. Now..um, could I have some privacy for a moment? I gotta piss."

You roll your eyes at his bluntness but slide off the counter, stashing your T kit away under the sink again. "Fine." You exit the bathroom, heading back into the living room but you remember you forgot to toss out the used needle. You return and knock on the door. "Art. I'm gonna come in for just a second, I forgot to toss out my needle."

His protest is lost as you creak open the door and find him standing with a near identical needle in hand, doing the same injection he just performed on you, shirt pulled up. He looks at you, horrified and surprised and you just stand there, everything clicking into place. "Oh..sorry."

He blushes but doesn't move. "S'okay.." You turn around to give him so privacy to finish up. You hear him exhale and then a clink of the needle hitting the counter and the rip of a Bandaid. "Okay.." You turn back around, the silence crushing. "So..um, you're..also.." He nods. "Yeah." "Neat, cool, okay." He laughs nervously. "Yup. You can turn around now, by the way." You sigh and turn to him, looking at him. "So...you're..also?" Art nods. "Mhm." You bob your head, taking in this information. "Okay..cool...can I ask like, how long?" "Since I was 18.." Again, you just nod.

"Neat. So, we're both just two dudes sharing an apartment?" He smiles nervously. "Yeah, yeah we are." "Cute. So, movie and pizza?" Art's smile turns more genuine. "Yeah, that sounds great."

[sanjisboyfie]

satoru would def call u baby boy i thinkkkkkk i hate him???? i hate him so much ewwwwwwwww (where can i buy him off the internet) if not that, just baby, babe, (daddy jokingly tho), or love. puts a lot of "my" in front of his petnames "my baby," "my blah blah blah" hes annoying. do NOT date this mf he is ANNOYING

then suguru would call u prince because hes a sexy mf. hehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehheehehehehehehehehehehehhehee or handsome hehehehehehehehehehehhehehehehehehehe or DARLING heheheheheheheheheh DARLING. but he is also just a fan of saying your name in that soft voice of his hehehehehehehehhehehe