#but for now its time to repay him the favor~~~~

[aduh0308]

warnings: messy pussy eating, soobin being the most obsessed with your cunt, little to no sub/dom dynamics, reader calls him 'pretty boy', not proofread

-

soobin who begs you for weeks after the start of your sexual relationship to let him eat you out because he wants nothing more than to find out how you taste. you almost give in the first few times when you throb a little at the idea... but then the insecurity kicks in and you say no. it just feels like too much. what if you smell bad? what if you taste bad? his eagerness was met with disappointment when you turned him down repeatedly, and you tried not to notice the little sigh every time you told him no.

and of course, like any other normal woman who's boyfriend wants to eat her out, you go ask your friends for advice. when both your male AND female friends give you enough assurance that yes, you smell and taste fine but if you really want to, you can eat some fruit ahead of time and drink lots of water.

and so, one day as the two of you are sitting on the couch together you say, looking at your phone still, "hey soobin?"

he looks up from the book he's reading, hair falling in the space between his glasses and his eyes. he brushes it away, a small dimples smile on his face as he looks at you. "yeah?"

you realize that he's gonna need to take off his glasses in order to do this, and reach and do it for him. soobin moves backwards slightly, confused, and reaches to take them back. "what're you doing?"

"you don't need this!" you grin, placing the glasses on the coffee table.

"i do! gimme, i can't see!" he whines, and you extend your arm as far away from you as possible. it barely fazes him, and he instead drapes himself over you, long limbs easily reaching the glasses.

you shift yourself a little more away from him, and the arm he's leaning on slips a little on the couch, causing his chin to hit your chest as he falls. soobin scrambles away quickly, an embarrassed blush on his cheeks. "soobin, trust me, you don't need these." you say, raising your eyebrows.

"why not?" he huffs, moving back to his spot, this time without glasses.

"cause. i want you to eat me out," you state, back to scrolling on your phone. you don't look at him to see his reaction (although you do take a little peek) but you do hear how quite he goes, how still his body grows. he's completely silent until..

"...really?"

his eyes are wide as he looks at you, his pretty, perfect lips that tilt up at the corners parted in shock. you nod, your own cheeks flushed.

"please."

you shift your position so your laying longways on the couch, legs spread wide, and soobin wastes no time getting between. when you feel his hands on your shorts' waistband, though, you can feel him shaking a little. from excitement, or nerves, or both, you're not sure, but just to show that you're into it, you help him tug down your shorts.

his cute little eyes peeking up at you shyly before returning to your pussy clothed by your underwear, big hands on your thighs to push them apart when he presses a kiss to your clit through the thin fabric. the simple touch sends a little shiver down your back.

you start to wonder why his grip on your thigh is so tight until he lets go with one hand to tug down your panties. soobin kisses your clit again, so gentle but it still make your legs twitch. the insatiable throb between your legs begs you to close them, but his hands keep you spread apart, thighs around his head (almost like earmuffs).

" 're you sure?" he murmurs, lips focused on placing light pecks all over your thighs. "you're not just doing it for me?"

" 's for you," you manage to get out, your breathing growing steadily heavier. "mainly, at least. pretty boy wants to taste me so bad, figured why can't he?"

soobin exhales with a smile at that, and he tentatively draws a line up your clit. you hum in approval, and he must take it as a sign to keep going (it was). before you know it, his face is buried so deep in your cunt that you think he might have trouble breathing if it weren't for the occasional gasp from him.

he was enthusiastic to say the least, obscene sounds filling the air as he starts lapping at your pussy, licking you up as if he had never tasted anything better. your eyes fly shut and your hand grips at his hair. you can't help pushing his face closer to your dripping cunt, legs jerking up to his lips. it really does feel so good, the way his tongue expertly traces your clit. you should've let him do it sooner.

however, when soobin's tongue enters you for the first time, experimentally, a quick motion followed by more licking at your cunt, your mind goes blank. you push his head even further into your dripping pussy, all of your juices licked up by your eager boyfriend before they even had the chance to roll down your ass.

his nose nudges your clit and you inhale shakily, eyes falling shut again. oh, how pretty he looks when you open them, his eyes squeezed so tightly shut that you'd think it was him getting head. the way he moans against your cunt adds to your thoughts as well. your pretty boyfriend is mindlessly rolling his hips against the couch, lost in both your taste and his own pleasure. you're sure he's aching for you, you'd be surprised if he weren't, finally getting to taste you after all this long.

you raise your eyebrows at him when he moves his grip to the outside of your thighs, and he only smiles against you. lips sucking on your clit so briefly just because he likes the way it makes you yelp, he pushes your thighs closer around his head. you can almost feel his gasp when you moan his name so loudly, biting the back of your hand in order to quiet yourself.

he eyes your chest only once before tugging your big shirt up and over your tits. one hand on your thighs, the other cups your tits so gently, as if he just likes having them there.

you're not sure how much time he spends between your legs, figuring out how your legs twitch when his nose nudges your clit just right, how the grip your hands have on his hair tightens when his tongue trails a line from your entrance to your clit, brushing against it so perfectly. all you know is that he picks his head up for just a second, lips and chin shining with your slick, just to let you know he's gonna make you cum now.

you don't take him seriously, obviously, but then his tongue hits such a perfect spot that a tingly heat winds it's way all the way up your thighs, stopping right at your core. you'll have to apologize later for how hard you held his hair at that moment, hips bucking up into his face and you hiss his name through your teeth. failing to trap a pathetic whimper, you cum all over his lips, and the way you'd be lying if you didn't say you saw stars... yeah, you're absolutely sure he'll be getting his wishes MANY times in the future

[katskitoshi]

"FAVOR FOR A FAVOR," with GENSHIN IMPACT.

synopsis: he helps you with something and it's only fair you pay him back, right? (liyue vers.) (mondstadt vers.) (inazuma part one vers.)

characters: dom! zhongli, xiao, and baizhu x gn! sub! reader

includes: (nsfw themes) zhongli is kinda mean, big cock zhongli, kissing kink, worship kink, biting, drool kink, cream pie. xiao is whiny and desperate, fingering, whining, praise kink. baizhu is mean, cockwarming, riding, missonary on desk, implied thigh/leg humping.

zhongli, the vago mundo.

it's only expected that you'd owe zhongli something after how much time you've spent in liyue and with him. he's knowledgeable and there is not much he could want from a mortal such as yourself. well, that is until he starts falling back into his more primal urges, and decides its time for you to repay him.

-- "i'm being gentle, okay?" he truly was too kind, especially now as a gently jerked his hips in to sink his cock deeper in your hole. he was even kind enough to take you in his mortal form and stretch you out with his 8-inch human cock rather than his much larger adeptal one.

his tip, hot and heavy inside you, made you squirm and pant under your boyfriend's loving gaze. he kissed your check gently, slowly traveling down to your neck as began to leave love bites in his wake. "m-move, please, zhongli. need you, real bad- ah, fuck !"

your eyes could have popped out your skull when you suddenly felt yourself get stretched impossibly further. zhongli kissed you to distract you from him pushing even deeper inside. he pulsed inside you, leaking precum to lubreacte himself as he kept going. your fingers dig into his back your your legs wrap around his waist.

the kiss was hot, and drool connected your and zhongli's lips and he pulled away. he smiled. he could already see you turning into a devout little worshipper for him. you move your hands from his back to the back of his head to push him in for another kiss. you miss the first few times, but ones your lips meet, your tongue explore each other.

finally, he bottoms out and you moan so sweetly into his mouth. you pull away from his lips, arching your back as your eyes roll to the back of your head. you came almost immediately and he revels in the mess you make of yourself. he does not wait, gently beginning to pound your sweet hole. one of his hands slaps the side of your thigh and squeezes the fat of your ass.

"fuck, barabatos, thank you, thank you!"

barbatos?

you dare call another man's name -- another god's name while he fucks you? how foolish you are, mortal.

you don't even notice the dangerous glint in zhongli's eyes. he grabs the back underside of your knee and pushes your legs so knees reach your ears. your eyes meet his at last and you can tell he's changed a bit. "zh-zhongli?"

you can only respond in a loud, lewd squeal of his name when he pulls out to the tip and thrusts in so deeply you swear he could rearrange your guts. drool escapes your lips and you try to recollect yourself. lewd squelching noises echo through the room as he dips to your neck and leaves hash bites.

"think you can just call another man's-- another god's name when i'm the one fucking you? think again." he growls into your ear and never stops thrusting for a moment, you cum again and pull him closer, silently begging for a kiss.

he does not oblige, allowing you to just lay desperate for him. he removes one of his hands that holds your legs up and positions it on his shoulder. his now free hand is used to push your cheeks together, drool still falling from your lips.

"he, he is not your god anymore. i am. the only name you'll be calling from now on is morax, understand, dear?"

he doesn't bother giving you the chance to respond, just sticking two of his fingers in your mouth for your tongue to play with. you try to speak, but can't simply because zhongli's ungodly pace knocks all the wind out of you.

his cock pulses inside of you, and you can feel yourself coming closer to your next release too. he removes his fingers from your mouth and plays with you, forcing you closer to your climax. and you can only release silent moans as he finally, finally, delivers a final thrust,

his cock, hot, heavy, and leaky inside you bursts, painting your walls and golden white color. you feel full, resting a hand over where zhongli's cum rests, panting heavily at the feeling inside of you.

he doesn't pull out, but slowly starts thrusting again. "zhongli! m'too sensitive! can't take it!"

"dear, call me morax. and we aren't done yet. you've still gotta take all of me, in my adeptal form, so i can truly show you which god you belong too."

xiao, the vigilant yaksha.

xiao has never really wanted much in return for helping people, especially from mortals. what could you give him after all? but upon meeting after saving you one fateful night, all he wants is to make you his.

"f-fuck, y-you're so tight -- e-even around my fingers!" xiao leans into kiss you once more as his fingers continuously hit that soft, sensitive spot inside you. the kiss silences his moans, his body weight is on you with his thighs on either side of your hips. one hand between your legs, and the other cupping your face as your tongues intertwine.

you bucked your hips upwards to meet his hands. the hand that cups your face moves down to push your hips downwards, stopping you from meeting his eager fingers. his lips shush yours as he pulls away from the kiss. you reach your arms around his neck and pull his lips back to yours. "m-more. w-want you inside me, xiao."

"i know. i know, baby. j-just a little longer -- gotta feel you cum from my fingers first." he speeds up, and you can feel your orgasm coming closer. his face is flushed red and he looks just as flustered, if not more, than you. and all from watching you come undone just for him. you were a sight for sore eyes right now and always.

hands digging into his neck, cheeks heated, panting and whining from his touch because you wanted -- no, need him in these moments.

his fingers curls against you in a way you never thought you could feel and your climax arrives. you moan into his mouth as your thighs shake and eyes roll to the back of your head. he swore he could have came in his pants just then as he hears you whine out his name, hands clinging to his body for his support, for him.

his fingers don't stop as he slowly works you through your orgasm, gentle pumping in and out as he whispers praises that make you lose your head. "shh, baby. i know it's a lot, but not too loud. don't want the humans downstairs to hear you, yeah?" the slight movements makes you squirm from the overstimulation youre feeling and your whines get louder, but he doesn't kiss you to silence you.

"fuck, you're so pretty right now, you know that?" he pulls his fingers out, taking in the look of your twitching hole and panting body. "but you're always pretty," he kisses the tip of your nose, "always." pulling down the waistband of his pants and pulling out his throbbing, leaky cock, he rests it on your stomach. his flushed red tip leaks precum over your stomach.

"need you. p-please put it in, xiao." and he complies. his tip lines up with your hole as he slowly and steadily pushes it inwards, he wants to squeeze his eyes shut from the sheer tightness and wetness and pleasure just putting in the tip has given him, but his eyes focus on the way you smile. dazed out, drool running down your lips and you desperately whine out his name.

do you have any idea what you do to him, mortal?

he continues to push himself in, and he can feel your walls tighten around each vein and each inch he pushes in you. he leans in to kiss you once again, his hands cup your cheeks as you sloppily make out.

once he reaches the base, he slowly begins to pump in and out. a steady pace, one that leaves you dizzy as his cock never fails to reach the part of your body that makes you squirm. the kisses get sloppier, you hands hold onto him tighter, all as he keeps a steady pace. deep and slow.

skin slapping accompanies the wet kisses and whines that leave xiao's lips, your hands upwrap from his neck and push at his chest. you need air, and you pant, greedily taking in the air so you and your lover's lips can reunite once again. xiao's eyes squeeze shut as he whines into your mouth again.

he begins to speed up, muttering out a quick apology. xiao was fast and his thrust were apologetically brutal. though unforgiving as he fucked you deeper, faster, harder, -- still caring and sweet as his fingers moved to intertwine with yours. your legs are propped over his shoulders and he gets a better angle to pound you.

moans and whines are exchanged between you two as you kiss, you can feel your orgasm approaching once more and you squeeze his fingers tight. a silent sign that he reciprocates as he throbs inside you, leaking loads of precum inside you.

and you cum, your walls squeezing so tightly he's not even sure how he hasn't dumped his load inside you. he forces his lips from your own in a desperate attempt to warn you.

"f-fuck, baby, i'm gonna cum. l-let me cum inside you, okay? please? i-i need to claim you, make you mines, th-those adeptal sigils aren't enough. need to - fuck! - need to mark y-you as mines, k-kay, baby?"

baizhu, beyond mortality

baizhu is a man who always gives but alas, he still has wants. he still has needs. he helped you out so long ago, and now, its only fair that you repay the favor, correct?

"stay still dear. if you keep moving, there'll be a punishment in store for you." baizhu doesn't even bother to look at you, only focusing on his papers as he gives your thigh a gentle pinch as warning. with your head tucked into the crook of his neck and you arms gently clawing at his back, you felt as if you could cry at any moment.

how couldn't you considering you had your boyfriend's thick, pulsing cock so deep inside of you and it was still? your walls clamped around him, eagerly trying to pull him in deeper, but baizhu stayed still. was this not punishment to him too?

to be so close to you? to feel you? to be balls deep inside you but not move? it was unfair, and you wanted to just grind your hips downwards, back and forth, up and down -- anything to feel him move inside you. his hips did not thrust upwards except once, when he used it as a warning. threatening you to be good or he wouldn't let you feel him at all. that you could just go back to humping his legs like a pathetic dog.

you should be grateful to even be on his cock -- to feel it pulse inside you in all it's hard, thick, pulsating glory. it's certainly an upgrade from grinding pathetically against his thighs and legs. at the thought of your prior punishment, you whined and squeezed your thighs around his hips harder.

you couldn't take it. he was still, not bothering to even look at you or help you at all. he was so mean, so cruel in these moments that you don't even regret what you're going to do. you unwrap your legs from his waist and lift yourself up, slamming yourself down on his cock.

yes, you're legs were sore from not moving for a while, but the look of shock on baizhu's face is enough to push you to keep going. you both moan at the feeling of finally having movement. lube runs down to the base of his cock as you don't falter for a second -- finding a steady rhythm of lifting yourself of and dropping yourself down while grinding to reach that spot that has your vision turning white.

it continues for only a minute, and when baizhu's shock finally wears off -- you were in for a surprise. his hands grasp your waist firmly, and he lifts you up and positions you on his desk. your back on various papers and pens as he looks down at you as if you were scum -- but lovingly.

he finds his own pace, one much faster than what you were going at and way more harsh that you thought he could even do. it was hot, seeing him panting, seething, upset but somehow still tolerating your bratty actions.

you can't even lift your hands to try to hold onto his neck, they scramble and hold onto the shaking, creaking desk baizhu pounds you on. his cock pistols deep inside you, and wet squelching along with the sound of skin slapping fills the room.

biazhu's cock reaches you in ways you can't imagine, especially now as it pounds into you so deeply. you squeal out his name as a particularly deep thrust reaches the most sensitive spot inside you. your vision goes white, and you clamp down on him so hard that all he can do is grit his teeth as a groan escapes him. his cock pulses once, twice, and one final time before long ropes of his white cum paint your insides.

he slowly rides himself through his orgasm before pulling out. a second later, his cum begans to drip out. you feel so full, but so empty as it leaks from you still clenching hole. baizhu pants, feeling content but not yet satisfied.

"b-baizhu-" you aren't allowed to finish your sentence, not when a squeak interrupts you after baizhu slaps your hole still dripping with his cum.

"don't think we're done yet dear. i thought i was letting you go easy with the cock warming, but you're just so ungrateful. so i guess i'll just have to fuck you until you learn your lesson, okay?"

(mondstadt vers.) (inazuma part one vers.)

i kind of answered these two requests so here to my two lovely anons!

[controld3vil]

when you compliment them | earthrealm edition

pairings: raiden, kung lao, kenshi & johnny x reader (all separate) synopsis: compliments are a long milestone for you, and yet only recently have you eagerly given them to liu kang's students notes: - reader is general neutral :] - i did NOT anticipate becoming so invested in mk !! hope you enjoy these headcannons with a grain of salt. lmk if they're too out of character

RAIDEN ->  Raiden’s stunned for a moment. Don’t take it personally. He did not expect you to be blunt about it. It makes his heart flutter. You’re someone he admires dearly. And to have you look upon his talents with such delight brings a smile to his face. Raiden will quickly regain his composure and kindly thank you. He’s a humble farmer. He’ll show you gratitude in your words. But the small moments when he’s gazing at you across the Wu Shi Academy make him think back to your compliments. “Your efforts at the Wu Shi are quite admirable, Raiden,” Can you tell how flustered he is? How easily do you make his brain go haywire? If you questionably tease him, Raiden will avoid the topic as much as possible. His eyes won’t even meet yours out of pure embarrassment. And all he could imagine were the smug faces of his friends in this dilemma. [ raiden ] : i- uh appreciate all that you have done for me (name). [ you ] : (laughs) as earthrealm's champion, you deserve as much.

KUNG LAO -> He is smug about it. Are you recognizing his talents? It bloats his ego, and he loves it. Kung Lao will use your praise to alleviate himself in any situation. When he’s about to fight Raiden for the seat of the Chosen One, he uses it to one-up his friend. Your approval is his number one trophy and shield from the rest of his friends. It’s in his pride that out of everyone in the Wu Shi, you’re the one to have looked at him. Honestly, he will always hold it over your head if you two argue. And maybe it takes things too far and results in you taking it all back (and puncturing his self-confidence). It all comes crashing down when he ultimately feels guilty about all the sarcastic criticism and teasing. Eventually, he’ll apologize and express how much you mean to him. Therefore the next time you commend his actions, he’ll take it down a notch [ kung lao ] : i'll beat raiden soon enough. don't you wait (last name)! [ you ] : impress me, first then we'll see if you can beat raiden.

KENSHI TAKAHASHI -> The swordsman chuckles and genuinely enjoys your attention. “I’m flattered,” He utters your last name as a sign of delight. Of the four, he’s not afraid of what you have to say, criticism and compliment-wise. Kenshi strives for improvement. And having you admire his great efforts is comforting. His time with the yakuza was rogue and remorseful. The things he had to do for his clan’s survival were unforgivable. However, he’s made it to work, thanks to Liu Kang. By extension, you are seemingly always there to support his efforts to win his clan back and help Earthrealm. It’s your constant presence that makes his feelings known. You’re extensively supportive of what he does; what can he do to repay the favor? Of course, there will be times when he jabs at the others about it. You’re the one who started the whole fiasco. It’s evident in your favoritism. To say the others are not having it. [ kenshi ] : what sento has given will help me restore my clan tenfold. [ you ] : then i wish the best for the taira clan and its new leader.

JOHNNY CAGE -> Approval is something he’s accustomed to. From movie ratings and down-to-earth interviews, Johnny is no stranger when someone cheers on his efforts. He lavishes on it as much as he can til it’s stale. It’s just how the movie industry works. He takes in criticism and heedlessness like it’s part of the job. It’s the attention he adores. Yet when his entire career is put to a stop for Earthrealm, Johnny has fewer things to worry about. His acting career is on hold now he’s practicing to become one of Earthrealm’s champions. It’s odd for him - to prove his self-worth at face value. He’s a superstar; what else does he have to show? It wasn’t until you arrived, with the goodness of intention from Liu Kang, that made him wonder what someone like you was doing here. You’re sweet and honest when talking to Johnny. It’s like the things he wanted to hear come easily to you. And when you particularly remark on a move he did on Kenshi, his entire day feels fresher and brighter. You know the words to make anyone feel complete and content. And he can’t help to tease you about it later. Johnny absolutely adores you for it. “Doll, you’re killing me with these compliments. How about a drink later?” [ johnny ] : come on! i know sweet talk when i see it. [ you ] : has being one of earthrealm's champions gone over your head, johnny?

[ew-selfish-art]

Dp x dc AU where Dick adopts teenage Danny into his family with Kor’i and Mar’i

Mar’i had always wanted a sibling, all seven years of her life in fact!! Toys and play times with friends couldnt possibly compare to having a brother or a sister, and she knew this as a fact from some of her school mates.

So when her dad brings home a kid that was all cut up and bruised, and her mom patches him up because something about his “biology�� was weird- Mar’i sees this as an opportunity in the making!

Danny is healing up slowly but surely in Nightwings house, and he feels like a total intrusion. He’s now seen their faces and it feels like so much trust has been placed in him with no way for him to repay it. So he’s moping a bit, hanging in his room reading a book based on his video game series when a small child walks in, her arms filled with board games and toys.

“Hello, will you be my big brother?” Is all she asks him with a straight face, her eyes incredibly serious for someone so small.

“Er, im just here until-“

“Want to play a game?” Mar’i changes the subject favoring a specific board game in her hands. Rule number one of negotiation is to never let them say no- her uncle Damian taught her that.

“…yeah, sure.” Danny accepts because honestly? He could at least repay Nightwing and Starfire by babysitting right? They play a few games and then dinner gets brought in and for once, Danny feels like he’s having a normal family meal.

Next time she comes into his room, he’s focused on healing one of his larger wounds from the power in his core- he’s floating and his eyes are green. Mar’i is ECSTATIC. He fits in PERFECTLY.

“WILL YOU PLEASE BE MY BIG BROTHER?!?” Mar’i persistently asks every single day. Danny laughs and smiles and pats her head.

Once he’s feeling better, he starts patrolling with Nightwing, just to pay him back. Not that he’s having fun bashing goons and getting solid hero advice for the first time in his life.

Then he goes to Tameran with Kor’i for a diplomatic mission (his royal ambdassadorship/ king titles tbd) to discuss the Infinite Realms and why they absolutely need to abandon their attempts to use ghost artifacts. Kor’i explains how proud she is of him as they fly home.

He gets invited to all their family outings now, and he is overwhelmed by how accepted he is. How much the Bats all seem to leave him space for boundaries but invite him to do things very much to his interests (they are detectives after all). Once its safe, Jazz comes every now and then from her Ivy League college to hang out with them all and spend time with Danny. She gives him the advice he needed to hear about accepting good things into his life and deserving happiness.

One day Mar’i has a bad day at school, and when Danny gets home from his own community college classes- he brings her into a big hug, makes her a cup of tea from her mom’s home planet and once she’s comforted and happy again he says “hey, what are big brothers for?”

[17020]

AN ARTIST'S LOVE

hajime umemiya repays the favor after you doodle on his skin. inspired by this post by the amazing @stunie ! i fell in love with the concept of doodling and i wanted to share this little piece. not proofread, sorry! fluff + some suggestive remarks, nothing more.

as much as hajime umemiya likes to have you drawing on him, he loves repaying the favor even more. whether it is small doodles lightly traced on your skin, or silly drawings on napkins or post-its, you always have a piece of his art to carry with you.

there are times in which your bag is filled with napkins, with little doodles drawn by your boyfriend. he has a knack for drawing, with his specialty mostly being hearts, stars, and most importantly…

plants. hajime umemiya was a romantic at heart, constantly drawing initials, hearts, and little plants wherever he could.

when umemiya arrives at your shared apartment, he tackles you into whatever comfortable surface—be it the couch, or your bed, and it is now your job to be his canvas.

it’s so intimate, the way in which you and umemiya reach for the pens and colored markers that sit on your nightstand, slowly removing some pieces of clothing until you both sit in your undergarments, taking turns into turning the other’s body into a work of art.

the doodles vary depending on his day. if he has a bad day, he’ll mostly spend his time tracing hearts around your arms and collarbone, and yours and his initials around your v-line. if he has a great day, your body will be like a greenhouse, your stomach, arms, and back being covered in plants, tomatoes, and flowers.

hajime is a true artist.

a day comes in which umemiya comes home, beaming with a smile on his face. you know he had a great day as he pulls you into his embrace, a quick peck placed on your cheek as he pulls out a crumbled napkin from his pocket, handing it to you.

“i had to stop by pothos to run some errands, and i had time to draw.”

it was a tomato plant with some hearts, just like the ones he proudly grew at furin’s rooftop.

an idea popped into your head as you took the crumbled napkin from his hand. the next day comes by, and you prepare yourself for your spontaneous adventure. but is it really spontaneous if you planned it around twelve hours in advance? you can’t really call it impulsive, right?

you had to ask tsubaki for help, as the nearest studio was in keisei street. after receiving directions from him, you headed out as soon as you received a text from your boyfriend saying he arrived at furin.

it’s better to ask for forgiveness than permission, right?

it’s not like you had to ask, your body was yours to decorate, but you were unsure of how your boyfriend would react. umemiya loves you for who you are, so why wouldn’t he love you now?

one painful procedure later, and you were now at home waiting for umemiya to return. you hear the jingle of keys as your boyfriend opens the door, greeting you with a short, sweet kiss. he looks down at the strange, clear bandage around your arm and—

wait. is it..?

“surprise!” you beamed, “i hope you’re not mad, haji. i got it because i want our love to bloom, and this is—like—a little reminder.”

umemiya swears he feels tears forming in his eyes, as his fingers softly trace the edges of the second skin, admiring the plant with two little tomatoes and hearts on your skin.

“it’s real?”

you nod, “very real, baby. i took your napkin to a studio and got it done! one tomato is you and the other is me.”

“you mean we’re two little tomatoes?”

umemiya is the happiest he’s ever been. he rambles on and on, about how in about two weeks, he’ll now have a permanent drawing to color, and how he can color each tomato differently according to their growing stage. green, yellow, red—you name it, umemiya is already preparing his colored markers.

to his surprise, when you and him lay on your bed and he peels off your shirt, his jaw almost falls to the floor as he prepares his pens and markers.

your back has a little…something. something like…

his name. carefully tattooed on your back.

a crimson blush slowly spreads from his cheeks to the tips of his ears, as his mind starts to race. if it were up to him, he’d propose to you right this second, as the mere act of you tattooing his name was like a proposal to be your lifelong partner. he wants to trace each letter—hajime umemiya wants to show you how much he loves you.

“you like it, haji?”

“i love it” he smiled, “you should show off your back more often.”

“i should?” you tease.

“it’s either that or more backshots, i just need to see my name on you more or else i’ll go nuts.”

[dazedandconfused-15]

Heaven's in your eyes (Part 2)

Pairing: Billy Hargrove x Female Reader

Summary: Life in Hawkins is dull and lonely, especially after your mom abandoned your family, leaving you even more isolated amidst school rumors. Already shy and with few friends, you find solace in your solitude—until Billy Hargrove, the intriguing new boy from California, comes into the picture. To your surprise, Billy seems to seek you out, finding ways to talk to you despite the odds. Never in a million years would you have imagined forming such an unexpected bond with someone.

Link to: Part 1, Part 3, Part 4

@tatumrileyslover @nocturnest @i-keepmyideals @eddiestans-blog here you go!

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It has been exactly six days since Billy dropped you home that Monday after the trip. The following days he never fails to greet you if you cross paths in the hallways. He hasn't ignored you once, even though you haven't called him yet. The truth is, you are terrified of doing so. When you think about dialing his number, two days later, you think it's too soon and you will look desperate, so you put the phone receiver back in its place. At the same time, you keep mulling over his words. 'Call me when you feel like it'. It means you don't have to call him right away, maybe he really means to call him when you feel like it. On Saturday morning, you decide it's the perfect time to call him. Enough time has passed to avoid seeming desperate, but not so much that it seems like you don't want anything to do with him. You need to repay the favor, and even though it's pouring rain outside, you pick up the phone.

After a couple of hours of pondering and racking your brain, you decide to take the risk and go for it. You had written Billy's number down as soon as you got inside, safely on a piece of paper. As the phone rings, you're already regretting your decision, feeling nervous as hell.

“Hello,” a girl's voice answers.

“Oh, um, hello. Is Billy there?”

You definitely didn’t expect a girl to answer. She sounds very young.

“Hold on,” she says, sounding bored. You quickly move the phone away from your ear as she screams Billy’s name.

A few seconds later you hear the rustle of the phone being moved around. “...cking yelling like a banshee. Hello?”

“Hey, it’s Y/N” you say, hoping he remembers your name. It would be weird if that’s the case.

“Hey. What’s up?” he says instead.

You instantly feel relieved. 

“You told me to call you when I wanted. I hope it’s not a bad time.”

“‘Course not,” he says. “You okay?”

“I’m good, thank you. And you?”

“Yeah, same. What you’re doing today?”

“Um, nothing special.” You glance at the window. “The weather is awful. I was actually wondering if you wanted to go grab a bite?” It feels like you’re inviting him on a date. It’s embarrassing. “Since it’s raining.” Now you’re repeating yourself. You’re glad he can’t see you blushing furiously as you keep rambling. “I mean, remember you told me you wanted to see more of Hawkins? I saw the weather and thought about this place. It’s a bit outside of town. If you don’t have anything planned.”

“Yeah, sure. Just need to finish working on some stuff. I can pick you up at seven.”

“Seven is perfect,” you say, your heart still hammering in your chest. “I’ll see you then.”

“See you.”

You change clothes at least three times, unable to decide what to wear. You don't even know why you're making such a big deal out of it—it's not a date, just an outing between friends. Actually, you two aren't even that close. But don't dwell on that too much; what is the reason for your outing, anyway? Originally, it was to show Billy the rest of Hawkins. Dinner is part of that plan, but Benny's Burger isn't one of the places he mentioned, even though it's a bit more isolated. However, that didn't seem to bother him. This time, you decide to bring enough money to pay for both of you. It's the least you can do.

Despite anticipating this moment with secret enthusiasm, seven o'clock arrives faster than you'd like. You leave the house in the pouring rain to find Billy's Camaro idling in front of your trailer, its low rumble cutting through the night. You hurry to open the door and close your umbrella, trying not to let any water into the car. As you settle into the seat and turn to greet him, your breath catches. You try not to look too impressed by the sight of him as you fix your wet hair, but a quick glance is enough to get your heart racing. You’re increasingly convinced that this man has no physical flaws, and that thought destabilizes you. He’s wearing a white tank top under a black leather jacket, with blue jeans that fit like they were tailor-made for him. As he puts his hand on your seat and looks over his shoulder to back up, he manages to keep his cigarette firmly between his fingers, one hand on the steering wheel. You take the opportunity to steal a glance at him. The movement brings him closer, and the scent of his cologne reaches your nostrils, making your skin prickle. His long curls are perfectly styled, reminding you of a lion.

“I didn’t think you’d actually call.” he says as he shifts from reverse to first, heading toward the end of the trailer park. 

“Oh,” you say. “Why is that?”

“Dunno.” he chuckles, his long lashes brushing his cheekbones. “Maybe you were scared of me or something.”

His sentence moves something inside you. "Oh. Not at all,” you say, your voice carrying a hint of determination. You are determined to make him understand that you may be shy, but you are not a fragile little thing. "I'm not scared of you."

“You’re not?” his voice is like a low rumble, it burns through you and sets you on fire.

“Uh-huh.” your mouth feels dry, and you distract yourself by feeling the hot air coming out of the vent with your hands.

“Good.” 

When you walk into Benny's Burger, it's practically deserted. There's just a couple of old gentlemen. From the way they are dressed, they look like fishermen. It looks like they have recently ordered because there is only cutlery and two glasses of beer on their table. Benny Hammond comes to take your order and greets you warmly. He and your dad are good friends, they went to school together here in Hawkins. Billy orders a double burger and a large portion of fries, and you order a steak with a small portion of fries. You were afraid the evening would be punctuated by few words and awkward silences. Billy is not the biggest of talkers, but the feeling of uneasiness quickly vanishes as the night goes on. You tell him about your dad and Benny, recounting how your dad was born and raised in Hawkins. When you tell him about his travels, you linger and talk a lot about California. Billy is curious about what your dad did there for five years. Then you tell him how he went to Jamaica alone and risked his life several times but had a good time. Then Billy tells you how his group of friends in California had been very diverse, two of them being a Jamaican and a Filipino. He tells you how good their mothers' cooking was when he was invited to eat at their house. You are surprised how the conversation always manages to bounce back. 

Half an hour later, Billy has cleared his plate. You, on the other hand, are still struggling to finish your steak, so he finishes it for you. You comment in amazement that he eats like a horse, then immediately apologize, feeling your face flush with embarrassment. Billy laughs and tells you he does weight training five times a week. You feel like saying you've noticed, but luckily manage to stop yourself in time and avoid further embarrassment.

You insist on paying to make up from last time, but Billy refuses categorically. You feel guilty, but his stubbornness prevents you from doing anything else. When you leave the restaurant, it has stopped raining. The smell of rain rises from the asphalt of the car park. As you walk towards the parked Camaro, you cross your arms over your chest, suppressing a shiver. Out of the corner of your eye, you see Billy take off his jacket.

"No, don't take it off, I'm good, really." you tell him, already knowing what he’s doing.

“Here,” Billy drapes it over your shoulder anyway. The weight of a jacket and the smell of leather envelop you. You try not to show your surprise as his warm hand gently squeezes the back of your neck. “Just wrap it around yourself. Don’t wanna catch a cold.” 

His hand seems to leave an imprint on your skin. You didn’t know you would like his touch so much until now. The sound of zippo rips through the silence and your mind. Billy walks past you, the orange glow of a freshly lit cigarette is the only light in the evening darkness. He opens the driver’s door and bents inside, inserting the keys and fiddling with the radio. You lean your back against the side of the car, enveloped in the warmth of his jacket, still carrying the lingering heat from his body. You breathe through the collar of it, smelling the faint scent of his cologne. 

The gentle guitar strumming of ‘Landslide’ wafts through the air as Billy closes the door, windows down, and leans against the car, beside you. You turn towards him, your eyes dragging over his body covered only by his wifebeater. He takes a drag from his cigarette, the tip of it vibrating until it almost turns red. 

"You’re sure you're not cold?" you ask, daring to be a bit bolder and nudging his shoulder gently.

Billy nudges you back, mumbling around his cigarette. “Hey, I’m a tough guy.”

You softly shake your head at his answer, looking at the trees in front of you, forming a wall of darkness, a trickle of wind shakes them slightly in the breeze. “I love this song,” you say with a soft smile. Then you look at him. “I didn’t know you liked Fleetwood Mac”.

“What did you think I liked?” Billy asks after exhaling the smoke, taking the cigarette from his mouth.

“I don’t know,” you hesitate, hoping he doesn't misinterpret your words. “I thought you were more into metal. Just ‘cause I heard you playing it from your car sometimes.” you hastily add.

Billy hums in acknowledgment. “So you were watching me, huh?”

“No, it’s not that! You just, sometimes the music is very loud.” 

He laughs, and it’s such a pleasant sound. It makes your insides swirl. “S’alright. I do play my music very loud.” he flicks the cigarette on the ground, the glowing ashes extinguishing silently on the wet asphalt. “I listen to metal, yeah, but I like rock in general. Hard rock, folk rock,” he jerks his head to his right where the music comes from. 

You hum thoughtfully, tightening his jacket around you. “That’s nice. I think they’re among my favorite folk rock bands.

“Those guys?”

“Yes.” 

Billy nods his head. “They’re cool, yeah. What else do you like?”

You hum while thinking. “There’s lots. My dad likes all these rock bands, like Led Zeppelin, Pink Floyd, and a bunch of others. I picked it up from him. He used to blast them in the house when I was little," you recall with a soft smile. "He's a big fan."

“Well, well, well.” Billy grins in appreciation, his smoldering eyes on you. “Didn’t know little miss was so cool.” 

You let out a small laugh, and put a strand of hair behind your ear with a shake of your head to do something with your hands. You thank the night for hiding how flustered you are. “I just…” 

“What else are you hiding?” he tilts his head toward you, the warming mood bringing him closer than before, his shoulder brushing against yours.

“Not much.” you laugh again, unable to meet his eyes. 

“Huh-huh,” he mumbles playfully, bringing the cigarette to his mouth. 

You switch the conversation on him, to shift the attention from you. “And how did you start listening to rock?” 

Billy initially stays quiet. At a certain point, you’re almost convinced he either didn’t hear you or doesn’t want to answer.

“My mom.” he finally says. You look at him, instantly feeling the shift in his mood. “She listened to all this folk stuff, like Joni Mitchell, Mamas and Papas, Bob Dylan. I remember hearing it play in the house since I was a toddler.” he muses, and for a moment seems lost in the memory, breathes a silent laugh through his nose. “She was a bit of a hippie.”  

You can imagine his mom dancing barefoot in the living room, him mirroring her movement with a smiling chubby face, his bright blue eyes looking up in adoration at her.  

“And my old man didn’t like that part of her one bit,” he says then, his voice turning acidic. He flicks his cigarette again. “You meet someone and expect them to change what they are for you. Kinda makes sense, huh?” 

Something in the way he talks about her suggests to you that her mother is part of his past. You don't know on what level, but surely the whole thing didn't end well. And that's one of the sensitive topics regarding his life in California. 

‘Dreams’ starts playing next, filling the last few seconds of silence. It makes you think about the vinyl of that album you bought in Chicago when you spent part of last summer at your grandparents’. It was the right before your mom left.

"I think it’s kind of cool. It's usually always dads who listen to that music,” you say gently in an attempt to lighten the mood. 

“Yeah, no.” Billy snorts. “Surely not mine. He thinks that’s the Devil’s music. Still into that conservative bullshit.”

“My grandma thinks the same,” you comment. “I had ‘Rumours’ on vinyl before.” you start, referring to the current song’s album. I bought it that summer when I visited them in Chicago. It got damaged shortly after buying it. I still think she broke it on purpose.

“Shit. That sucks.” 

“Yeah,” you sigh. “It’s my favorite one.”

“Do you still have your record player?”

“Yes. I have a few other vinyls too.”

As the two of you continue to talk about music, a topic you didn't think you'd be on the same tune on, the mood returns to a lighter one. Soon later, the rain starts falling again stopping you in the middle of your conversation and you both realize it got late. Billy crushes his unfinished cigarette with his boot and you get in the car.

“Thanks for paying tonight. Again,” you tell him sheepishly once on the drive back home. 

Billy slightly lowers the radio's volume until the guitar strums are just background noise, his eyes fixed on the road. “There’s lots of other ways to make it up to me, but I won’t let you pay. Sorry, sweetheart." 

His tone suggests he's not sorry at all. It almost sounds like it’s out of the question for him. You try to ignore how the nickname makes your heart flutter, refusing to dwell on its meaning.

“But why?” 

“Because,” he chuckles, probably amused by how you seem fixated on the question. “It’s just the way it works.”

“Doesn’t make sense,” you mumble quietly, burying half of your face in his big jacket still wrapped around you and suppressing a shiver. 

“Shit. Does it always rain in this shithole?” he squints his eyes a little bit as he lifts the lever to increase the windshield wiper's speed. The rain is now pelting the car more aggressively. 

“I think it’s because you’re used to California,” you say gently. 

There still are a few droplets of water on his naked arms and shoulders. However, he doesn’t seem to feel cold since he’s not shivering.

“Guess so,” he mutters. 

For the first time, you notice he has a tattoo on his shoulder. It’s a skull smoking a cigarette. You wonder when he got it done, what does it represent? 

Before you can stop, your mouth talks. Your voice is quiet, but it is still audible. “That’s a cool tattoo.”

He turns his head toward you, and for a moment he seems surprised. Then his face settles back into a composed expression, his eyes flickering with a hint of amusement. "Yeah, you like it?" he responds casually, you swear his tone betrays a touch of warmth.

“Mh-mh.” you nod, feeling comfortable enough to say what you really think next. “It suits who you are.”

He lets out a quiet chuckle under his breath. “What do you think that is?"

Maybe it’s the relentless thundering of the rain over you, maybe it’s the fact that it’s pitch dark or you’re slowly being accustomed to being around him. You feel a sense of comfort enveloping you. 

“I think… You’re tough on the outside, you always act distant from what surrounds you, like you don’t care about anything and anyone. But deep down, you’re kind-hearted and really gentle.” 

The only sound breaking the silence is the soft hum of the music and the harsh drumming of rain against the car. Your swallow seems thunderously loud in the quiet, but the collar of his jacket offers some solace. Glancing at him, you breathe in the scent of leather and him, focusing on his forearms—robust yet slender—then his hands gripping the steering wheel, long fingers lightly wrapped around it. You wonder what it would feel like to have his arms around you, his hands on your waist, neck, cheeks. Every thump of your heart against your ribcage feels hyper-aware.

“Like, incredibly kind and gentle,” you venture, sensing the weight of your words. It's why you try to cloak yourself in the armor of a rough exterior, a fortress formed by sharp cutting gazes, sharky smiles and skinned knuckles. You want to say more, but it feels too personal, too revealing. You know he wouldn't handle it well. It would make him feel vulnerable, prompting him to close off. You guess he’s hiding some things from himself and the world, afraid it would spill over and flood the fragile sanctuary of his soul. 

Billy chuckles softly, his tone light yet evasive. "You're painting me as a real softie, aren't you?" his words carry a playful edge, his gaze still fixed on the road ahead. His eyes won’t meet yours, though. There are a few seconds of silence before he speaks again. "Got it last year. The tattoo. Hurt like a bitch."

You notice his subtle attempt to divert the conversation. But you can’t blame him. You went a bit too hard. 

“I want to get one too. Someday,” you murmur. 

“Yeah?” he glances at you.”D’you have something in mind?” 

“Not really…I guess I’d have to think about it.”

“You should. It’s gonna be there forever. Unless you get it lasered off, which is a new thing. And that’s a whole other level of pain.”

Just to make you think about it makes you shiver. “Laser it…?”

“Yeah.”

Getting a tattoo is something you have to ponder for a long time indeed. And you’ve always had a penchant for changing your mind. Getting excited about ideas, projects, and it always seemed to work for a long time until you changed your mind. Or something happened and you consequently changed your vision of things. You’ve always been uncertain. Your life had a penchant for unexpected events and uncertainties as well.

“Maybe getting a tattoo is not for me,” you mumble. “I’m bad at making decisions. I feel like all of my life is going to be like this.”

“What do you mean?”

As the car slows down, you realize you’re already driving on Forrest Hill trail road.  

“I mean…” you sigh, uncertain whether to delve into what’s on your mind and risk exposing yourself. But Billy opened up tonight, so you feel compelled to do the same. It also feels kind of natural. “In my life, things always seem to take unexpected turns. Often in a bad way. I can never know what to expect. And I don’t like that.”

The car comes to a halt, and you find yourselves parked in front of your trailer.

“Well, I could tell you ‘That’s the beauty of it’ or some stupid shit like that. But huh…” he chuckles, shaking his head as he rattles the pack of cigarettes in his palm to extract one. “My life has been a shit show itself. So, I get it.”

“I’m really sorry,” you say softly. That’s all you can say, you can only imagine from the vague piece of information he gave you. 

Billy shrugs as if to brush it off. It’s so natural it looks rehearsed. You wish you could tell him it does matter, that he deserved to have a happy childhood, he deserves a happy life.

“I wish I could at least have a hint. Even if it’s just one piece of information. I don’t like all of this uncertainty,” you continue. You've known Billy long enough to understand he doesn’t appreciate pity, or even anything that remotely seems like pity. “I wish I could see my future. My grandma…” you stop yourself with an embarrassed laugh. “I know this is gonna sound stupid. It’s probably not true anyways. But I’ve always wanted to get my palm read. My grandma used to know how to do it.”

Met with silence, you feel the familiar burn of shame and regret welling up inside you. Why would you say that? He’s probably thinking you’re crazy for believing in this stuff.

“Wanna give it a shot?” 

You turn toward him in surprise. “You know how?”

“Yeah, I’m pretty good at it.” he shrugs, putting the pack of cigarettes in the compartment. Then places his cigarette behind his ear. “Come on.” he holds his palm in invitation. You place your hand in his, palm facing up. 

“Alright,” he begins, tracing a line with his fingertip, “This here, is your headline. It’s curved and wavy, which means you’re creative and intuitive. You think outside the box, not afraid to follow your own path.”

You watch his face, his concentration as he reads your lines. “And this one. Huh. Oh yeah. See, your lifeline is strong and deep,” he continues, his voice a low rumble. “That means you’re full of energy, and vitality. You’ve got resilience, no matter what life throws at you.”

He shifts his focus to another line, “An this, here, this is your fate line. Not everyone has one. Suggests you’ve got a purpose, something you’re meant to do, and it’ll shape your life significantly. Basically, your destiny is in your hands.”

His thumb moves lightly over your palm, his touch sending a shiver down your spine. “Your skin is soft. How's it so soft all the time?” he almost mutters to himself. “Means you’re sensitive, maybe a bit sheltered. Shows you’re not letting anyone in. But it’s not a bad thing, you know what I mean?”

You could listen to his voice forever. It’s like a low melody, resonating deep within you.

“How do you know all this?” you breathe, your eyes studying his face. 

“Told you my mom was a hippie. She was into all of this stuff. Taught me how to do it. Shit”, he chuckles. “...haven’t done that since I was ten probably.”

Finally, he traces the heart line, deep and prominent. “And this,” he says, rubbing his finger across a line that nearly runs the full width of your palm. “is your heart line. It runs deep, straight across. It means you feel things intensely. You love deeply, but you also hurt deeply. See this?” he presses his thumb into the little fleshy space between the first and middle fingers, then meets your eyes. “When it curves outward like this, it means you’re willing to give a lot to the other person. Like, you give all of you.”

You are caught between the urge to look away from him and hold his gaze. His tourmaline eyes are two deep pools in which you swear you can lose yourself.

“I uh, we’ll see about that.” you manage to say. “I haven’t had anything like that before.”

“Haven’t had a boyfriend yet?”

A small laugh escapes your lips at your own embarrassment. His own slightly twitch too. “God, no. I haven't exactly been in the game.”

“So nada, huh?”

One of his thumbs caresses your palm, the other the skin of the inside of your wrist, drawing circles. It sends tingling along your body. A pleasant shiver that makes your whole body aware, a hot sensation in the pit of your stomach, all your nerves rising. You can feel something hanging in the air, a palpable tension, but you also wonder if it's just your imagination running wild. Being inexperienced as you are, perhaps it’s all in your head, and all of this is fueled by the undeniable attraction you feel toward him. Then Billy jerks his chin toward your right.

“Looks like your dad is waiting for you.” 

You follow the direction he’s pointing at. Indeed, the little light outside the trailer is lit. Your dad is peering at the small window on the door, you can see him munching a pickle in the meantime. As you’ve been burned, you quickly retract your hand from his.

You are grateful to your dad for entering the picture and getting you out of this situation. With him looking at both of you, you can do little other than simply greet Billy without a second thought. Had he not been there, you would surely have stumbled over your words.

“Oh, uhm. Sorry about that.” you chew at your bottom lip before looking back at Billy, an apologetic expression on your face. It’s embarrassing. “He was probably worried, he does that when I come back late. Oh,” you suddenly remember you’re still wearing his jacket, so you quickly take it off. “Here. Thank you. I’ll see you at school?”

Billy takes the jacket. “Yeah. See you there. Sleep tight.” 

You want to ask him if another hangout is on the program, but you don’t wanna press too much, so you hurry inside the trailer with your heart a little lighter and a thousand questions. In your bed, you keep replaying the hours spent with him unable to fall asleep. His change of tone and attitude when he talks about his parents lingers in the back of your mind. You don't know his story in depth, but you are increasingly convinced that he and you share more than you think.

[defectivefanboy]

Hi darling! How are you? How have you been? Sorry for bothering, I wanted to request! You really write very well and keep up with the good work! So anyways.. Can I request smut for Alastor, Lucifer & Crimson reacting to their girlfriend wear a lingerie?

Thank you so much! Have a lovely day/night!!

　　　∧_∧::

(´･ω･`)::

/⌒ ⌒)::

/へ_＿ / /::

(＿＼＼ ﾐ)/::

｜ `-イ::

/ )::

/／ ／::

／ ／::

( く:::

|＼ ��:::

Imma go ahead and ignore that icky word that's in there and make it S/O because I want to write Alastor. Here is my request page for anyone who wants to in the future. Please take a read before you come into my inbox :D

Can I request smut for Alastor, Lucifer & Crimson reacting to their [REDACTED] wearing lingerie?

Overall notes: Stories written on this blog are GN until specified. While this story uses they/them pronouns, and while I don't mind female readers on my blog/interacting, love my girlies, hey girlies~, but I do not write female reader, and if you are a fetishizer. fuck off??? ew. How would you even do that on an x reader???

C/W: NSFW topics, Each character will have their own respective warnings, Sexual content, duh, no pronouns used, Bottom! reader favored, Established relationships. OOC?, I mean this would never happen, so yeah ooc

Notes: the giggle I had to stop when I got to Alastor good god, but Lucifer was honestly the funniest and most enjoyable to write. I had a smile on my face the whole time

Crimson ♧︎...

C/W: Slight Voyeurism (mention of his right hand man Alessio), Degradation, he def has a sir kink, don't lie to me, mention of stealing/sugarbaby (hes an asshole) mention of stalkers? admirers?? idk he just mentions people leaving you gifts,

For being an old (mafia) man. He's not opposed to a little dress up

Only if its you though. He would NEVER

He would be into something with a little more class.

Never will his darling look like some 2 cent floozy

So none of that crotchless bull honky. While he wouldn't be mad at it, he would rather leave more to the imagination. Something to work for, y'know?

And he would certainly work for it.

You really wanna get him going? Accentuate your hips. That's something him and Moxxie can agree. They like their darling with a little bit of width~

If you are gonna wear something for him, you best put on a show while you're at it.

He waits to do business after dinner, so why not let him enjoy his meal

For an asshole he has some manners now

Always making you cum once or twice before even taking your outfit off.

It likes to wait before unwrapping his gift <3

But once he gets more accustom to your interest

He's definitely going to be the one buying you the set

well its his money that's being used, Al is the one who goes and picked them up. Poor baby...

"You're so needy, baby. But did you need to go and make yourself out to be a whore in the middle of a meeting?" Crimson said as he placed a hand on your waist. His desk might not be the most comfortable place, but it will do for now. It's not like he can ignore you when you got all dolled up for him.

"I don't remember buying this one. Alessio leaving you gifts now too?" His fingers slid under the thin fabric as you let out a soft whine before answering, "I got them,.. custom made, sir." you said, trying to steady your breathing as his hands wandered between your legs. You let out a yelp as he spreads your legs out more for himself.

"And where are you getting this money from, huh? Hope you're not stealing it from me, brat." He gives you a soft glare and a questioning look as his eyes scan over the fabric that covered you, before his spotted the embroidered 'C. Knolastname' on the front of the waist band. With his index finger and thumb, he hooked them around the band and traced the deigned. Crimson gives you a smirk and placed a kiss right under your belly button before moving down.

"Hmm... maybe i do have a use for that ring then after all, but i should repay this favor before hand. Right, (Y/n) Knolastname?"

Lucifer 𓅰...

C/W: light choking, another one with a superiority kink, mentions of god (he calls himself it), size kink for the fact I thought this man was like 5'8-10 come to look up his like 6'2-3, slight crack fic (because he wouldn't take anything seriously until truly needed, he giggles when you change in front of him, it's always a crack fic with him)

HE HAS A MATCHING SET!!

god how my perception of these characters have been warped

but he has most definitely bought you outfits before, probably the only one to go out of his way to get matching ones.

Even got a few custom ones made, you can always tell by the little duck embroidered somewhere on them.

He's game for anything you wanna wear. He isn't gonna stop you, if anything he's gonna encourage you to wear more.

He's helpless for you in such a pretty outfit and it's all for him?

He feels loved and he's sure to pay that back ten fold in the bedroom.

You might not allowed to be in heaven, but he can show you what it was like~

I maaay..be a bit delusional, but in private I feel like he's all giggly and shit.

Oh an he definitely was the first time you pulled this from your hat of tricks.

Almost a little to giggly i'd sat, to think the ruler of hell would be this flustered over an article of clothing is beyond me

But once he starts to become use to it. He starts to expect it. What? He is the king of Hell after all.

And he truly expects to be treated like one. (He's a brat when he doesn't get attention)

Be it sinner, hell-born, or even the 'perfect OC/that everyone loves who is half angel half devil/stronger then god/etc' he's gonna ask you one thing constantly...

"Please, my angel of death? Just one time, for me? Then i'll never ask again. Promise."

"I'm not wearing a duck tail while you fuck me. When- Where in hell did you even get these made?" you asked as you held up the pair of yellow lingerie with a duck tail sown on the back of the waist band.

"You shouldn't need to worry about that, my love. All you need to worry about is wearing them for me." He said with a light sigh and a shrug of his shoulders, a soft smile resting on his face.

"Again, I am not. fucking. wearing. them, you prick-!" As soon as you got the name out you felt yourself against the wall. The soft smile gone from Lucifer's face as a dark look pooled in his eyes, an unsettling stare never leaving yours. Before you could apologize, his hand wrapped around throat, his index finger pushed your face up to his as he spoke with a low voice.

Almost like that cheery devil was just a front...

"Oh, how far from grace you have fallen, my dear. Seems you already forgotten your god. But that's no trouble at all, for tonight..." His grip on your neck got tighter as he got closer to your ear and a sinister smile made itself at home upon his pale face. Y'know, you really only notice how big he is when he gets like this... oh that wasn't a complaint. Not when his presence alone encaged you against the wall, let alone the possessive grip that he had on you.

"I'll teach you how to praise my name once again."

Alastor 𐂂...

C/W: Teasing, sadly abo mention, WHY ARE YOU BOOING ME I AM RIGHT, blood mentions, possessive behaviors, light choking, mentions of cannabalism, duh, playing more into the abo, uhm, sniffing? idfk leave me alone its late. oh ft: a guest at the end.

Another man with class, just not as much. I mean, come on, he's still a sinner~

though when you present yourself to him in your outfit, he can't help, but raise a brow as he tried to keep down his smile at the sight.

Definitely a big tease, a BIG tease

Especially when you look so cute for him, squirming under his indifferent gaze. Oh how he wants to squeeze your cheeks and leave you begging for release~

He's also one for a game of cat and mouse.

so when you go out into town with him make sure to slip his favorite pair of lingerie under your clothes

And if you're one wear revealing clothes, then I hope you're ready for a possessive (and bloody) overlord, ad pray for anyone who thinks they can touch you, let alone come near you.

oh AND OHHHH wanna know how you really got him? How you really got to him??? When the static cuts out and that Louisiana drawl' comes out of him. (I would die. again.)

(If I say he has a rut would that be considered A/b/o? I mean he is a deer demon, same with other demons in a similar case)

but WHOOO WEE

for someone who normally has a distaste for touch that isn't initiated by him, He'll enjoy a night or two (on the rare occasion) where he lets you indulge yourself

though, do be careful now, he's a gentleman up and foremost, but he's not always a patient man at that. He's always willing to return the favor tenfold~

And if you already couldn't tell, he loves the color red, basically lives in it. So it's safe to it sets something off in him

be the cannibal in him, or maybe he just likes the color a little too much

but at the end of it you'll more marked up then a rough draft <3

"Bless your heart, Dear. Did you think I wouldn't notice... your little getup? His clawed fingers trailed your sides as he leaned down to whisper in your ear. His frame trapping you in your seat and god, would it be terrifying for any mere sinner in this position, if it wasn't for the playful twitch of his ear that told you otherwise. Someone was enjoying this more then he let on...

It wasn't the first time you had teased him in public, but it was the first time people really had the courage to come talk to you. To give the poor souls benefit of the doubt, you were just sat at the bar talking to husk. Though, you would also think the red pinstripe outfit and microphone that rested at your side gave itself away.

"And it seems i'm not the only one. Now, if I were to kill everyone in this god forsaken hotel. Whose fault would that be, hm?" A clawed hand made it's way around your throat as it softly pulled you back, letting him have full access to your neck. Burying his face in your neck, he took in a deep breathe as static radiated off him.

"Or maybe I should have you for a meal tonight. You do smell quite... appetizing, my darling. Such a shame I have to ruin that pretty little outfit of yours." Before you could even gasp a grumbling and angry voice rang out, bringing you both back into reality.

"Can you two not fuck at my bar please? You are just as bad as that damn spider."

"Oh of course Husker! We'll get out of your fur right now actually! Wasn't like these pathetic things were going to get a taste of you anyways."

[lilacsandpetals]

Frozen Blossoms Pt. 4

Bi-Han x F! reader

Tags and notes: Arranged marriage AU, SFW, slow burn, Pre-MK1/MK1 AU

Last part here.

Next part here.

You don’t know what you should do. If you move, you might wake him up.

It’s interesting to see him like this, you haven’t seen him so relaxed before, it always seemed as if he walked around with a scowl on his face or at the very least, a blank expression. His eyebrows were often furrowed, ever in a state of concern or disapproval. It almost caught you off guard not seeing that wrinkle on his forehead. You reach out gently to touch the spot, almost to check if this is real. Some part of you still believed you were dreaming, especially since you don’t remember falling asleep like this.

The second your fingertips are mere centimeters from him, he wakes up and grabs your hand, hard. You gasp and he immediately lets go before sitting up, “do not do that,” he scowls. You rub your hand sheepishly and look at him, ‘there is that familiar facial expression again.’ “I didn’t think you’d wake up,” you groan. 

“Have you forgotten who I am? I’ve been trained to be hyper-aware of my surroundings since I was a child, I am not a light sleeper.” 

“I didn’t think of it like that.” ‘So much for starting off on the right foot today.’

“I am rarely at ease, and you prodding at me does not help.”

So he wasn’t relaxed with you. You’re not totally surprised, you two have still only known each other for a limited time, however, you were beginning to grow fond of him. 

His words do sting a little. 

He watches you rubbing your hand, you appear… sad to him. He didn’t mean to snap like that. He wants to cringe at the guilt that begins to rear its ugly head again.“Give me your hand,” he commands. You place your hand in his and he holds it gently, turning it from one side to the other. It’s cold and there were a few bruises. He felt slightly embarrassed. You weren’t a threat to him, so why did he react like that? Maybe he wasn’t used to the intimacy. He did fall asleep rather close to you. It was uncharted territory for him.

“Give me a moment.” He goes to rummage through his drawer and pulls out some sort of ointment. You sit up before he takes your hand. He uses his fingertips to grab some of the ointment and puts it on your hand. He keeps his gaze focused on your hand and carefully massages it. Soon enough your hand begins to feel better. You watch him carefully, he’s concentrated. When he’s done he looks up and you both lock eyes before he looks away. “Does it feel any better?”

“It does,” you reach out your other hand and place it on his. “Thank you.”

“Consider it repaying a favor.” You seem confused for a moment but are reminded of how you tended to his arm. You smile briefly, you didn’t know he had appreciated that after he left so abruptly, but maybe you’d ask about it at a later time. 

“I don’t mean to come off as rude, but I didn’t expect you to be here?” It was certainly well into the morning, practically noon.

‘Neither did I.’ “I am attempting to make amends.”

“Meaning?” His response didn’t quite answer your question. 

“I failed to accompany you at the festivities in the village yesterday, but I will accompany you today.”

Only, if you’d still have him. 

Some semblance of his being still resisted any attempts to get close to you, yet the desire for you had become increasingly evident. He couldn’t quite see ‘loving’ interactions occurring between you two, not now. And he couldn’t grasp the concept of using such interactions or the thought of it to drive him to improve in his endeavors yet. But he aches for your attention, he longs for you to desire him. 

Perhaps he needs to alter his perspective. If he could manage to pursue these actions in a manner akin to a requirement, then it could be seen as a matter of fulfilling another responsibility. Partaking in conversation and activities with you as his wife, it was just another duty for him to maintain. That was manageable. 

But even so, how would he properly associate with you? Prior he had only assumed that the main duty you’d serve as his wife, and him as your husband, was maintaining social etiquettes and producing an heir, eventually. But even when that was all he thought of his role as a husband, you managed to snake your way into his subconscious. 

Your gentle determination to get closer to him, your adamantly kind nature, your beauty, it intrigued him. Did he entice you as well? 

You watch him seem somewhat lost in thought. He was always so reserved when it came to you, it was difficult to pinpoint what he was ever thinking about. You’re pleasantly surprised that he’s brought up an offer of spending time with you. Thinking it over, some petty part of you wants to decline the proposition, but you aren’t going to throw away last night’s progress for the sake of frivolous revenge. 

“Okay, let's get ready and we’ll be on our way.”

—------------------

You had never seen Bi-Han in casual clothing before, it was nearly unsettling. The sleepwear he was in this morning retained a dark shade, you felt like it was fitting for him. So this current informal attire was something to get used to. Yet you couldn’t deny that he appeared rather attractive like this. The tunic was a lighter color, the sleeves were cut just below his shoulders, leaving his muscles available for your eyes to feast over. The pants contrasted with the shirt, being a darker shade of gray. 

Right now you wanted your morning tea. Did your husband even drink tea? You weren’t too knowledgeable on his eating preferences, he just seemed to eat whatever was in front of him at mealtimes. 

He had followed you to the kitchen, leaning up against the wall and watching your every move as you walked about, searching for a teapot. You slid open a cabinet only to be met with the pot sitting on a shelf just out of your reach. You strain to reach the pot before Bi-Han puts a hand on your arm, “Stop struggling, I am able to reach it.” He hands it to you and you thank him. “I’ll make you a cup as well.” 

“Sure.” 

So he does like tea. 

He doesn’t sit at the table but goes back to his spot up against the wall. You boil the water and throw the tea leaves into the pot. “Are you hungry?”

“No.”

“Okay.” You bite your lip, it won’t hurt to ask more questions, right? The conversations between you two tended to end as fast as they started. They were brief in nature. Well, all except that argument last night. Maybe he wouldn’t mind you talking more; he said he’d make the effort to engage with you. So you shall hold him to that. 

“Are you sure? Wouldn’t you get hungry later on then?” 

“If I do, I’ll take care of it.” 

You shrug, “fine.” Pouring the tea into your cups, you make sure to blow on it before setting it on the table. Bi-Han quietly sits across from you. Usually, at dinner, he’d sit by your side so you wouldn’t really look at him much. He’d be in your peripheral vision, sure, but that didn’t count. It’s an entirely different ordeal when he sits directly across from you, his eyes are downturned towards the teacup. Slowly the steam subsides from drifting into the air. 

You push your cups toward him, “can you cool down mine too? Only a bit.” 

He obliges and stares down at his own cup again for what feels like too long. You don’t know what he’s thinking about. He was such a mystery to decipher. It promoted the ever-looming feeling of discomfort. Perhaps today could help remedy that?

“You know, I barely know anything about you.”

“Likewise.” 

“Then let’s get to actually know each other, like you promised. I don’t want to spend my life with a stranger.”

He nods his head, he can understand your sentiment. He’ll fulfill his responsibility. 

“Okay, where were you when you heard the news of our betrothal?”

“Other than whispers of it at clan meetings, I was in my 

bedroom when my parents came in and broke the news to me.”

He takes a small sip of his tea, “and how did you react?”

You pause, “I assume you’re a man who admires honesty. I was nervous.”

He raises an eyebrow, but as if he’s amused at you, “And why is that?” 

You resist the urge to roll your eyes. “As if you don’t know.” 

“Enlighten me.” 

You shoot him an annoyed look while you place your cup down. “Well, future Grandmaster, you must be skilled in reading people. So I’d assume you know why.” 

“A very observant claim. And of course, you found it nerve-wracking at the prospect of spending out your days in the presence of my power.”

You cross your arms, was he teasing you on purpose? “Yes, that’s correct, it wasn’t as If my husband-to-be appeared like he could care less. Then suddenly at the engagement, he looked at me like he wanted to drive a stake through my chest.” 

Memories of betrothal discussions flash through your mind. His indifference would twist into eyes of vile disdain. Anxiety would rise up within you back then for days on end, and a twinge of it emerged now. Why had you blurted all that out? Perhaps you would have spoken on such a topic if you two had reached a higher level of companionship. But the trepidation of what you had just uttered is calmed when your husband does not appear angered. 

Bi-Han can’t help himself. He is slightly satisfied that he was able to evoke a sense of fear within you when you two had first met. Yet that sense of satisfaction derives itself from a point in time where he did not care for you, you had been akin to an inconvenience in his mind and the fact that you had looked upon him as if he were some sort of beast only drove his ego. However, had you felt that way about him currently, well, he would be displeased. 

Your husband appears contemplative to you, tapping his finger against the table, miniscule shards of ice emerge where his finger hits the table. “And what am I in your eyes now?”

You take a moment to think it over, “I think I’ll have a concrete answer at the end of the day. My turn to ask the questions.” Thoughts run through your mind as you debate on what to bring up. Maybe it would be helpful to start at the beginning. 

“What was life like growing up? From what I’ve heard and seen, I assume it was intense.”

Bi-Han tilted his head. “Perhaps, yes. I didn’t like it when I was very young, but I consider it a blessing now.”

You rest your head in the palm of your hand and take in the sight of his well-sculpted arms and broad shoulders. “It must’ve been a lot of hard work, I wouldn’t know if I’d be able to maintain that.” 

“Discipline from a young age is essential and the work required of any Lin Keui, anything less is unworthy of the title.” You frown slightly, but quickly catch yourself. 

His childhood was laden with heavy burdens: strict schedules, relentless training, and endless lessons. It helped refine him. He’d never admit it, but it was exhausting at times. he’d take solace in the moments he’d be able to elude it all. Fleeting memories dance within his mind. Memories of a time when perhaps he was a bit happier, when he was kinder, when his view of the realm wasn’t so cold. 

But that was long ago, things were different now. 

“You acknowledge that our child will endure a similar upbringing.” His face seems serious when he says it. To be honest, since the wedding night, you haven’t even thought about producing an heir. The idea of it always felt like a distant afterthought, something you could push off thinking about. 

Your childhood was not as strenuous as your husband’s, so the thought that your own child would have to deal with such burdens frightened you.

Your husband’s face appears analytical and you sigh “I understand how a child would be raised here, but surely there were moments of rest or enjoyment? I feel as if that’d be a concern of mine, it would be for any mother, correct?”

Bi-Han’s jaw tenses slightly and you fear you may have struck a nerve. You’ve never heard him mention his mother. You are aware that she passed many years ago, but nothing more than that. You are about to change the subject when your husband speaks up once more. 

“My mother gave me the pleasure of tending to me when I needed her. You will be allowed to do the same.”

You nod your head slowly. He was quite vague, so you decide it may be best to halt your questioning about the subject. Just then your stomach grumbles and you clear your throat, slightly embarrassed. Bi-Han leans forward onto the table, “If you’re hungry, go eat. Do not wait for my sake.” You pick a piece of fruit from the bowl sitting on the table and take a small bite. “I was going to make soup for myself later since it’s been getting colder.” 

His interest is piqued.“Which kind?” 

You rest your chin on your hand, “I’m not sure yet.”

He appears contemplative, “chicken and mushroom is satiating.”

You smile, “I can make that.”

—------------------

You needed some ingredients, and you had informed your husband of that. He offered to retrieve them while you remained at home, but you reminded him of his vow today. So here you are, walking about in the village with him. It’s oddly domestic. You make sure to savor this moment. The village is still lively today, reeling down from the prior festivities. 

Bi-Han’s hand is wrapped around yours while you two walk into the marketplace, you move your hand and it feels as if your husband held on for a moment too long. “I only need a few things.” “Go ahead,” and so you begin your search. You stop at different vendors, weaving through the marketplace to acquire your needed Ingredients. Your husband follows closely behind, paying for whatever you happen to grab. 

Bi-Han likes watching you operate. These tasks are simple, yet you seem entirely focused. Your eyebrows furrow and you slightly purse your lips when you examine a vegetable before happily tossing it into your bag. He found it somewhat endearing. Since when did he think of you like that? He shakes his head to himself and looks back up to keep an eye on you. You were moving through the shops with ease, and he was keen on not losing you in the crowd. His eyes narrow when a man comes up to you to speak. 

It’s easy to decipher when an individual comes up to you for genuine inquiries, versus when they would have ulterior intentions. A few of them were nervous, he could tell by the way they failed to maintain eye contact or tripped over their words. On the other hand, some seemed all too confident in their approach. 

He didn’t know if you acted so kindly just to get a rise out of him or if you truly were oblivious. The desire to rip those men apart was present, but he could maintain his cool. So instead he would hover closer to you and shoot a distasteful glare at anyone whom he deemed a nuisance. His hand would hover over the small of your back. He longed to move his hand only an inch closer but the realization that he’s never touched you there before keeps such an act at bay. 

You can practically feel his eyes starting a hole through the back of your head whenever those types of interactions occur. Yet you pretend not to notice.

Your bags fill up quickly and keep both of your hands occupied. Suddenly, Bi-Han takes them out of your hands.“Thank you,” you respond, only to hear a grunt in response. “I think I have everything, we may head back.” He nods and leads you back, keeping a small pace ahead of you. You quietly follow along, glancing at his form again before keeping your eyes trained on the path ahead. The trip itself was brief and unimportant, but even so, you appreciated his company. 

—------------------

You were decent, but you were not an accomplished cook. You had merely helped your mother in making the soup on occasion, so you prayed that you remembered the recipe well enough. 

Bi-Han hovered nearby as you set the ingredients out in front of you. You looked at him and then back at the needed items. He seemed so focused on your every move. Cooking for yourself was one thing, but preparing food for another was an uncertain affair. You hoped you would not disappoint. 

Your knife slices through the meat, “you’re making me nervous.”

Bi-Han crossed his arms, “how?”

“You’re watching me like you’re about to tally points for an exam.” 

“I’m curious as to how you prepare it, I’m simply observing.”

You motion over to the rest of the ingredients on the table, “doing triumphs observing.” 

He wants to counter your claim, but something within him quiets the retort. He grabs some of the vegetables you’ve put aside and creates a precise blade of ice. He finds himself enjoying slicing through the needed components. The precision in maintaining a consistent width is something he’s keen on.

The atmosphere in the kitchen is calm. And you again take silent delight at the domestic feel. Soon enough you’ve thrown every ingredient into the pot on the stove and you both quietly clean up. “It’ll take a while to cook.” You catch sight of an exit to the kitchen that leads out into a quaint veranda. Bi-Han follows your gaze and starts towards it, you follow him and sit down on the bench. Dusk has already arrived and you close your eyes, taking in a deep breath. Your husband is leaning up against a wooden beam so you gently pat the open spot next to you. Not a word leaves his mouth but he obliges to your request. You want to hold his hand, but instead, you hook your arm around his. You can feel him tense up. You try to drown out the sense of slight disappointment, was he still so opposed to your touch? Still, he hasn’t pulled away so you don’t breach the topic. 

He wants to wrap an arm around you, draw you nearer to him, but you beat him to it when your arm wraps around his, and before he knows it your head is resting against his shoulder. 

Your fingertips gently trace up his forearm to his bicep. His arm tenses just enough for you to notice but the more time that passes, the more relaxed he becomes. You don’t know how long you repeat the motion, lost in the serene ambiance that accompanies you both this evening. 

Bi-Han has rarely allowed himself a simple pleasure like this. Your effortless touch has indulged an unspoken desire of his. 

“You’re strong.” 

He glances down towards you, you seem so small compared to him. “Of course I am.” 

You let out a small laugh “Yes, but I am increasingly reminded of it when I look at your physique.” Your nails gently run down his arm and he feels the hair on the back of his neck rise. You turn your face to look up at him, you’re both rather close. He is inclined to look away, turn from the object of his temptations, but you draw him in nonetheless. For once, he wants to lean forward ever so slightly, but the opportunity evades him when you turn away. 

Your heart is beating fast, you haven’t gotten this close to him before. “I have to go to check the soup.” You stand up quickly. And although he mourns the loss of your touch, he lets you go.

You return to the kitchen, stirring the pot while attempting to cool yourself down. 

‘What was that?’ Both of you are left slightly surprised at the sense of longing that has seeped into the two of you, unbeknownst to the other. 

—------------------

He remained outside. Against his own perceived notions, he had enjoyed today.

You continued the task of preparing the soup, carefully pouring it into a bowl for each of you before placing it on the table. The chill in the air reaches you as you venture out to retrieve your husband. He hasn’t spoken since you went back to the kitchen, keeping his eyes trained on the sky above.

“Bi-Han, the soup is done.”

He turns back to look at you, the moonlight is illuminating your face. Your eyes hold a softness within them that he finds himself yearning for. “I’ll be there.” He turns his back towards you again. You could nag him, but you find yourself placing a hand on his shoulder instead, “Come on.” Something unspoken lays between you two, but he doesn’t utter a word. His hand just barely brushes up against yours as if he meant to pat it. He gets up and sits at the table. You resume your place across from him.“Try it. I’m not promising anything amazing, but something decent.” You push the bowl towards him and cross your arms on the table, anticipating his response. 

He takes a sip, it’s somewhat bitter, more savory. It reminds him of his mother’s meals. She wasn’t the best cook. Yet when it came to him and his brother, she wanted to ensure at least one meal of the day was of her hands. His mother was strict, and dedicated to the stern and rigorous ways of Lin Keui. 

But still, she loved him in her own way. Whether it was ensuring he ate well, binding up his wounds from training, or staying by his side as he fell asleep. The loss of his mother and its repercussions haunted him. No matter how many days, weeks, or years went by, there would always be something rendering his life incomplete. But here, even if it’s just for a moment, the burden of evading her memory is lifted. He allows himself to be taken back to a simpler time. 

You eat the soup in silence with him. Any attempt to obtain feedback on your cooking lies unspoken on your tongue. You are eager to ask, but something about him seems relaxed. Genuinely relaxed. So you decide you’ll wait for him to voice his opinions, but that never comes. 

He finishes the meal quietly. 

“Y/N?”

“Yes?”

“Thank you.”

—------------------

To be honest, you don’t even like chicken and mushroom soup that much. You wouldn’t have chosen to make it, but you decide that he doesn’t need to know that. It’ll remain your secret. 

—------------------

You both retire to your quarters soon after, taking solace in a newfound sense of familiarity.

You both are yet to change in front of one another, but that’s not at the forefront of your mind. You’re content with the fact that you’ve chipped away at part of the invisible wall that resides between you both. 

The bed seems softer today, and more welcoming. And you know it’s because your husband has finally come to bed with you. Under the comforting veil of night, you dare to lay facing him and he returns the sentiment. For now, he allows himself the quaint pleasure of being able to look at you without loathsome yearning. 

You made him feel odd, dragging him out of his usual state of being to the point where it slightly unnerved him. The realization clawed its way to the forefront of his brain; that as the day went on, he didn’t find being in your company as a responsibility to be fulfilled. Your presence was comforting. 

You were tired. Your eyes start to feel heavy before a knock sounds at the door. “Who is that?”

Bi-Han gets up, ignoring your question, and goes off to speak to someone in the hallway. You can barely make out the words being exchanged, but suddenly you’re watching your husband move about the room. You avert your eyes when he gets changed, although you do sneak a glance this time. You snap out of it when he’s grabbing his mask. Your feet scramble to get out of bed and catch him when he gets to the door. Your hand grasps his forearm. 

“Wait! You have to leave now?”

“Yes.” You intake a sharp breath of air, and he seems to notice your startled state. “What?” He says in a more lighthearted tone than you’re used to, “Did you foolishly assume the Lin Keui only operated in the morning?”

“No…” You took a deep breath. You’d expect him to pull away from you and leave, but he didn’t. It seemed like he was waiting for you to lift your hand. You’ve never seen him off like this. You knew this was part of what he did, what their clan did, and still a part of you felt worried. You looked up to meet his gaze, his eyes expressed more than his mouth ever could. When you first met him, you found his eyes to be cold and calculating, but something was different now. 

“Be safe.” You said softly. Your hand gently finds its way down to his before you pull away. He gives you a small nod and moves to go out the door. You see him pause and think that maybe he’s forgotten something. But before you can ask he returns to you, grabbing your wrist and pulling you forward. He leans down and hastily places a kiss on your forehead, “I’ll return soon.” And like that, he’s off. 

You watch him leave and wonder how such a simple interaction could evoke so much warmth within you. 

—------------------

Thanks for reading 💙

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[dira333]

Caught a kiss - Amajiki x Reader

for @missalienqueen - hope this was the vibe you were looking for - Follower Celebration Request

You are going to lose your job.

It’s as easy as that and just as painful to accept.

You have less than 24 hours to deliver your final draft; all you’ve got so far are the villain's design, the hero’s parents and best friend, and a rough draft of what you want to happen. Oh, and about twelve crappy drafts of the hero, every single one worse than the one before.

The hero with the strength quirk is just a cheap version of All Might and has been overdone for ages. The hero that looks dark and sinister but is actually a sweetheart reminds you too much of former Pro Hero Eraserhead and you don’t want anyone to accuse you of using your former teacher for your work. 

One should think that coming up with new ideas comes easier after three successful book deals, but the opposite is the problem. 

.

After more than six months of creative block, you cannot hide it any longer from the publisher or your writing partner, but you will be damned if you give up before your time has fully run out.

You get up with a heavy sigh, hoping against all odds that another cup of coffee will solve your problems. 

Just as you push yourself up, an explosion goes off outside, its force strong enough to leave the floor trembling. You stumble, but your balance is off and you knock heavily into your table. Your hip and thigh hurt from the impact but you try to get up, only to be knocked to the other side by the second blast, the explosion even closer this time. 

“Here.” Someone cushions your fall with their body. You look up into a pale face, almond-shaped eyes filled with worry as they take you in. Right. It’s the person who always sits ducked into the corner booth, fully engrossed in a book every time you come in to write. So far you’ve never seen more of him than the messy indigo hair that is not hidden behind his book. You can’t help yourself but take him in now that you’re this close. His mouth is a tight line and his ears… your heart lurches at the sight of their pointed tips. It makes him look like an elf.

“A-A-Are you okay?” The man stutters and you nod, blink yourself out of your stupor only to realize that you’re leaning way too heavily into him. All he did was keep you from falling over and you’re repaying the favor by putting all your weight onto him.

“Oh, oh, I’m sorry.”

“I-It’s o-okay.” His mouth pulls into an even firmer line and he looks past you. Whatever he sees has his eyes widening and you turn to see for yourself, only to be pulled down.

“Stay here.” He insists, voice suddenly firm. “Hide in the booth.”

Another explosion rings out, the sound deafening this time. When the ringing stops, he’s gone from your side. From your new hiding space, you can see him, walking upright to the door. 

He’s a dichotomy, soft indigo cardigan wrapped around his lanky figure as if trying to protect him from the harshness of the world, but his steps are firm and his posture speaks of determination. You can tell that he knows what he’s doing in the way he utters short commands to the other people in the coffee shop.

-

The next time you see him is half an hour later when the police are taking statements.

He’s standing a bit to the side and someone must have brought him his hero costume, but you’d recognize that indigo hair everywhere, even if it’s partially hidden by a white hood. 

“I didn’t see much.” You say, eyes never leaving the guy who, in your eyes, saved the day. “After he… I’m sorry, I don’t know his name, but the Hero in the white tunic… After he stepped out, I briefly saw a group of men with black suits and black face paint. And then, a few minutes later, one of them ran this way.” You point down the street. “But he was wearing something else. Something red on his head, like a wig, maybe?”

The police officer gives you a skeptical look. “Are you sure? You’re the only one who pointed that out.”

“I mean, I could be wrong, I’m not sure if it was a wig or not. Did no one else see someone running?”

“They did, but they all agree it was a civilian.”

“No, it was definitely not a civilian. I saw his face and while it didn’t have any facepaint on, it was clear that he wasn’t frightened. He looked pissed. No civilian would run around looking like that after such explosions and a bank robbery going on at the same time, don’t you think.”

“We’ll look into it.” The officer says, noncommittally and leaves you in favor of talking to someone else. 

Your eyes immediately wander back to the hero who saved you and your legs seem to take that as an order to get you over to where he stands.

“Hi.” You start, surprised to see that he blushes instantly, head pulling back into the safety of his hood. “I-I’m sorry.” You start to stutter, “I’m normally not that forward, but I-I just wanted to tell you how amazing I thought you were.”

“T-thank you.” He whispers back and you wait, hoping for something more for him, but if he does say something, it gets swallowed by the booming laughter of a much larger man.

Fatgum, you know him from TV, steps closer. One of his hands lands heavy on the first man’s back.

“Don’t mind Suneater here. He’s a great hero, just a little shy with words. I heard you’re the one who’s convinced she spotted someone fleeing from the scene?”

“Uh, yes.” You try to catch Suneater’s eye but he’s looking at the floor as if he suspects to find the secret to immortal life down there. “But I told the police everything. I’m just good with faces, I guess. I just… I just wanted to say thank you. To Suneater, I mean. Because he saved me, in the coffee shop before.”

“Oh, he did?” Fatgum seems to find that incredibly funny because he laughs again, pulling Suneater into his side to the point that he almost swallows him whole. 

“I think he’d gladly do it again. Nothing too much for my guy. Hope we did not keep you from anything important.”

“Oh, just my draft.” You sigh, before realizing that your drawing pad is still in the shop and you have even less time now to save your job. But, there’s an idea forming in your mind just now.

“Would it… would it be okay, to use you? I mean, your hero persona, or your… likeness, for a manga?”

Suneater freezes up, elbows locking tightly against his ribs. He looks like a wooden puppet, unable to move.

“It’s supposed to be a story about a boy overcoming all odds to be a hero and when he meets the evil villain, he realizes that what he’s learned makes him the most capable to deal with him. I’ve struggled to find a story to tell but if I could… draw a hero that’s a bit shy and didn’t like attention all that much, that could resonate with a lot of children, you know? We’d call him differently, of course, and I could change the looks, but I kinda.. well, I really like your costume, it’s very…” You clear your throat awkwardly, too aware of Fatgum’s growing grin and Suneater’s growing stiffness. “Aesthetically pleasing. Yes, hmm.. It’s the aesthetic.”

“That’s a big honor,” Fatgum speaks up on Suneater’s behalf when the latter seems unable to open his mouth. “As his boss, I give you the okay. But you should leave your card or something with us so that we can have a look at the product before it gets published.”

“Oh, absolutely.” You pull a card out of your blazer pocket and hold it out to Suneater who eyes it as if it might come alive and eat him any moment. So you offer it to Fatgum who takes it with a wide smile.

-

Your drawing pad is still where you left it. You grab a new cup of coffee from the jittery barista and insist on paying for it even though she offers one for free after today’s events. 

“I’ll feel better if I pay for it,” you insist, knowing that there will be enough people taking advantage of it as it is.  

The drink grows cold next to your pad as you draw, engrossed in the story you’ve got to tell now. It’s only the time crunch you’re in that keeps you from going overboard on your hero’s features. You want to stay on the page, take your time until you get his ears right or the exact shade of his hair. In some drafts, it turns out too messy, in others too neat and you wonder if you could ask him to stand model for you, just to get a hang of the way it falls. 

Then it’s the color of his eyes. You thought they’d been a deep purple when you looked up into them hours ago, but it had been but a brief moment and you long to see them again.

It’s way past closing time when the friendly barista is finally annoyed enough to throw you out. You stumble home, eat a sandwich from the vending machine on the way up to your apartment, and get back to drawing. 

Your alarm goes off right after you put down your pen.

Your draft is finished and you lay down for a quick nap that is filled with a now familiar face. 

x

If anyone knew he was here again, Tamaki would surely lose his hero license. 

There had to be some rule against stalker behaviour but he wasn’t going to go up to HR to ask about it. 

The barista nods when he comes in, accustomed to his presence by now.

Thankfully it isn’t the same one as yesterday and this guy doesn’t seem to know he had been involved in yesterday’s shenanigans. This is embarrassing enough without people recognizing him.

He grabs his lavender tea and takes his usual seat, burying himself in the book he brought along today. “Chivalrous Hero: Crimson Riot - How I came to be” isn’t exactly his top choice of literature but Kirishima had urged him to read it and he might as well.

Nine o’clock comes and goes without any sign of you. 

He has to leave around half past ten and he can feel himself grow more and more anxious the later it gets.

Maybe you are breaking your habit of coming here after yesterday’s events.

He certainly can’t blame you for that. 

Or you realized that he’d been here every time you went there too and connected the dots. 

Surely it has to be that. No one can blame it on sheer coincidence for this long.

He should have just bitten the bullet weeks ago when he noticed you and asked you out then and there or stopped visiting when he felt his interest grow. 

Like a man, his inner voice reprimands him, sounding vaguely like Kirishima.

At ten o’clock on the spot the bell over the door chimes. He turns to look on instinct and feels the book drop into his lap without being able to catch it.

You look tired, to the point he wonders if you’ve even slept at all. Even with makeup, it isn’t hard to tell that you’re going to keel over from exhaustion any second, but still, there is a smile on your face that can rival the sun.

Your eyes move through the coffee shop, shoulders relaxing at the tune that is coming from the speakers. 

Out of habit he moves to pull his book higher to cover his face but finds his hands empty. Before he can realize why that is, your eyes cut to his. 

One, two, three seconds he feels time freeze and his heart stops beating. 

Then, just like the sun rises, your smile changes… into something almost shy and private, something he’s never seen on you before.

You duck your head and walk over, making his heart skip from non-beating to beating too fast. His blood soars in his ears and he still can’t find the damn book to hide behind. And now it’s too late for that anyway because you’re standing in front of him, the shy smile curling around your lips in a way that makes his knees feel way too wobbly.

“Can I sit with you?” You ask and he nods before he can stop himself. 

Your knees knock against his as you slip into the booth.

He takes in a breath and regrets it immediately when he can smell your perfume again. 

“I was hoping I could meet you again.” You say, pulling something from your bag. “I wanted to show you what I draw… I was… so blocked, I couldn’t draw for months but when I saw you, something clicked and I…” You stop your movements, something like a tablet in your hands. You look down in what he recognizes as embarrassment. He’s too familiar with that feeling not to recognize it on sight.

“It’s okay.” He can hear himself say. He’s not sure what he’s even trying to say, but he can feel his lips move and that’s better than what he does most days. “You don’t have to explain yourself to me. I should say sorry anyway. I’ve been sitting here for weeks trying to talk to you and couldn’t get over myself.”

Wait, he thinks, panic bubbling in his stomach. Did he just… say that?

Your mouth is open, your eyes wide. You certainly look like you heard what he just thought out loud.

“You were trying to talk to me?” You ask. “Why didn’t you-” You seem to realize that he’s starting to sink into himself, that he’s actively trying to merge with the booth and stop speaking. 

That’s it, he thinks. He knew it would turn out this way, he should have gotten over himself sooner.

“Here.” Your voice cuts into his miserable thoughts again, pulling him away from trying to sneak out of the booth. “Look at this.”

You turn your pad to him. There he is, or at least, someone looking a lot like him.

It’s a rough sketch of him, mid-fight. He recognizes the tentacles coming from his hands immediately. When his hands meet the monitor, the page turns and there’s the villain, telling his story of origin. There’s no text, but his face makes it clear that it’s a sad story. 

But there he is again, Suneater saving the day, hugging the villain in the end to prove that even the bad guys can be friends if you treat them nicely.

“If you want,” you say, your voice low as if you’re letting him in on a secret. “I’d like to get to know you better. Not just for this project, but… like… on a date?”

You wave your hand in front of his face. “A-Are you okay? You’re not blinking?”

“Sorry,” he chokes out, digs his fingernails into his arm to pinch himself. Yeah, he’s not dreaming. “I’m…”

“I meant it.” You assure him, put your hand where he just drew blood. “If you want. No pressure though.”

He’s still looking for words when you pull back your pad, clearly trying to give him some space.

“I… have to leave in a few minutes.” He points out, glares at the tabletop to keep his nerves. “But do you want a coffee?”

--- one weeks later ---

You’re already there when he steps into the coffee shop. You’re at work, which he can tell by the fact that you don’t even look up when he slips into the booth and puts a fresh cup of coffee next to your pad.

“Hey.” He gently pats your thigh. A few days ago that wouldn’t have been possible, but you pointed out that it’s the safest way to get your attention without messing up your work and he’s actively trying to get over himself, so there…

“Oh, hey!” You smile up at him, lean back to stretch your back out and move to press a kiss to his cheek. 

His face bursts into flames. Not literally, but figuratively and you giggle against he hot skin before pressing another kiss on his other cheek.

“Missed you.” You say nonchalantly as if that doesn’t make his heart lose a few beats.

It takes him half an hour of passive cuddling to get his heart to calm down and his brain to unmelt before he remembers what he’s supposed to tell you.

“They caught the last member of the group.” He points out when you move to take a sip of your now cold coffee.

“What?”

“The guy you saw, the one wearing a red wig? They caught him. Detective Tsukauchi said your hunch was too good to ignore and they caught him. Turns out he was the head of the gang after all. So you’re the real hero of that day.”

“What? No. It was you. Or Detective Tsukume.”

“Tsukauchi.”

“Exactly. I just pointed out something obvious. Like that.” You press your thumb against the corner of his mouth. “You’ve got something caught there.”

“What is it?” He asks, already anxious as you lean in.

“A kiss.”

His mind goes blank way before your lips meet. 

But, he supposes he doesn’t need his brain for a few more minutes anyway.

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[wriothesleybear]

Flirting with Gallagher as he makes you a drink.

~a/n: flirting, mentions of alcohol, mentions of kissing, slightly flirty!Gallagher, flirty!fem!reader.

Watching him and noticing how focused Gallagher gets when creating signature drinks. Getting mesmerized by his expert movements as he pours the right amount of liquor into the glass. He can feel your eyes on him. He looks up, meeting your eyes. "Is it that interesting to watch me make drinks?" You smile. "Would you prefer I look out the window and focus on the view of the city instead?" Knowing your eyes are watching him as he works, he won't admit that it makes him a bit nervous. A part of him wants to impress you, but it's sort of hard for him not to get nervous when your beautiful, intense eyes follow his every move. But he wouldn't want your gaze to be anywhere other than on him, which he wouldn't tell you. "Which ever you prefer. It's your choice."

"I do admit that the view of the city and its bright lights is an exquisite view, but I think the view of you is even more mesmerizing." Your confession catches him off guard, causing him to accidentally spill some liquor. You smile to yourself at his reaction. He clears his throat as he cleans up his mess. "If you're flirting with me just to get a free drink, it's not working." You fake a disappointed pout. "Aw really? What a shame. I thought my plan was working." Finishing the drink off with a garnish, he places it in front of you. "Nice try." Smiling, you grab the glass, bringing it to your lips. You pause before taking a sip. "What if i gave you a kiss? Would that at least get me a discount?" He keeps a straight face, pretending to be unfazed by your flirty comments. "Do you say that to all the bartenders?"

"Nope. Only with you, my favorite bartender." The corner of his mouth slightly raises. "I suppose I should feel honored then." Smirking at him, you rest your chin on the back of your hand and slightly tilt your head at him. "You should be very honored." The bar's clock rings, indicating it's closing time. You're surprised it's that late, not noticing how fast time flew by while chatting with Gallagher. Swallowing the rest of your drink, you hop off of the bar stool, taking out some money from your purse to pay for the drink. "Don't worry about it. It's on me." He says while cleaning a glass. You're surprised for a second, but soon a smile graces your features. "Was my flirting that effective to persuade you to change your mind about that free drink?"

"Possibly. But you should know by now that you don't have to sweet talk me into giving you a free drink. I'm more than happy to give you as many drinks as you like. After all, you are my favorite customer." His words cause a blush to cover your cheeks. Your eyes slightly widen, surprised by his sudden confession. He smirks, enjoying the look on your face, satisfied that he's the one making you flustered this time. "W-well, thanks for the drink Gallagher. Another delicious recipe." You stutter out as you try to calm your racing heart. "I'll see you next time." You turn for the door, but he suddenly stops you. "Let me walk you home. It wouldn't be right to let a lady walk home alone this late at night."

He holds the door open for you. Smiling, you thank him, but you can't help yourself from teasing him. "What a gentleman. A free drink and a strong, handsome man to make sure I get home safely. How should I repay you?" Putting your finger on your chin, you think about how to repay him. "Hmm, how about a kiss on the cheek?" "You don't have to return the favor. Just doing my job."

"But it wouldn't be fair to not give my thanks when you've done this much for me. Unless, this is your plan all along just for me to give you a kiss." He chuckles. "Seems I've been caught." He teases, playing along. You both arrive to your home, stopping on your door step. "Well, you should know by now that I'm more than happy to give you a kiss." Getting on your tip toes, you peck his cheek, once again thanking him and saying your goodbyes before closing your front door. Gallagher smiles to himself, replaying the feel of your lips on his cheek as he heads back to the bar. Little does he know, your lipstick left a mark on his cheek.

[inukag-archive]

Hi! Do you have any list of fics where Inuyasha heals Kagome by licking her? Like "Healing Saliva" trope 😂 Thank you.

Hey Nonnie - yes we do! Hope these are to your *taste*.

Demon Nature by @shardetector (NR)

He spoke low and gently, although his voice was gruff with his demon still so close to the surface, “You saved me wench, now I’ll repay the favor.” With that, his muscles bunched in his legs as he sprung up and out of the well, a red blur in the night as he made his way through the forest to his destination. His precious cargo held safely to his chest, as he raced to save her with his demonic speed.

--

The Voice Inside My Head by @fawn-eyed-girl (E)

When Kagome returns to the Feudal era a week after a particular nasty fight with Inuyasha, he realizes something’s not right. Is it too late for Inuyasha and Kagome—have the years of fighting broken them apart for good? Or will they be able to find a way forward, together? Featuring Commissioned Artwork by thornedraven!

--

The Ronin by @mamabearcat (M)

On the night of the new moon, Inuyasha is knocked out and Kagome is at the mercy of a ruthless Ronin. When he wakes, Inuyasha has to piece together what has happened. He may not usually kill humans, but in this instance, he's willing to make an exception... Rated M for swearing, violence and sexual touching without consent.

--

The Difference Between Lust and Love by @splendentgoddess (X)

Drawn by a jewel shard, the inu-gang encounter a witch in possession of a lust potion. This spell does not affect the mind but merely the body. What happens when Inuyasha falls victim to its power? There is only one way the spell can be broken.

--

Mine by jaygirl987 (E)

She was so beautiful and pure. And his.

--

Middle of Nowhere by @mamabearcat (T)

“Hey you old hag, keep your hands to yourself!”

“Inuyasha!” Kagome hissed at him, a little embarrassed by his rudeness to the kind old lady. She tucked the necklace back inside her shirt, offering a small seated bow of apology. “I’m so sorry Obasan, Inuyasha is just a little overprotective. Please excuse him.”

“No offense taken dear, I’m just a foolish old woman who has become a little doddering in her ways living out here alone. And with such a bright jewel” she added, staring directly into Kagome’s grey eyes, “he is right to be protective.”

Kagome is kidnapped... again... A one-shot written for Keichanz in response to a tumblr prompt

--

Given by @dawnrider (E)

Losing himself to his youkai in Kaguya's castle puts Inuyasha in a position he never wanted to be in: Hurting the one person he swore he never would. Kagome doesn't see it quite the same way.

--

Shelter by @lavendertwilight89 (E)

Inuyasha has been alone most of his life and one moonless night he gets caught up with a young priestess. She saves him and he, in return, helps her. What he doesn't realize is this priestess holds a lot of secrets which may or may not cost both of them their lives...

--

Protector by MommaTrickster(Loria_Amnekia) (E)

Based on a prompt: His voice had never sounded so cold.

--

Pulling Her Down by aishiteru-inu (M)

Completed! She has 'sat' InuYasha many times in the past, so what would happen if she was brought down with a 'sit?

--

--

Feel free to add your own recs in the comments or reblogs! Check our Masterlist of previous lists to see which topics we've covered. After reviewing our submission guidelines, send us an ask (here).

[bakugokemkatsuki]

Dinner

Katsuki Bakugo x Reader

**Genre: Fluff **Word Count: 519 **Note: Pro Hero/Adult Timeframe, GN Reader **Warning(s): Cussing (Obvi), Use of Nickname (Babe), one suggestive comment at end **Key: Y/N- Your Name Colors: You , Bakugo

Bakugo was the cook of the house. He really enjoyed cooking, though he would never admit it. Bakugo found it helped him relax after a stressful day at work. You had been dating the pro for just over a year. You had recently started staying at his place on the weekends. It was Friday and you decided to surprise Bakugo with dinner already made. Now you were by NO means a cook. Bakugo knew this which is part of the reason he did all of the cooking. Your mom had told him the story of the time you almost burned down the kitchen when you were sixteen and he mentally noted to keep you OUT of the kitchen. You learned from that incident and always googled before putting things in the oven now. Though you used to mostly just eat out (just to be safe) before meeting Bakugo and he made it his mission to always cook for you. You decided it was about time to repay the favor. You decided to try and make spicy ramen with hand made noodles. I mean you had seen tons of videos, and it didn’t look that hard. How very wrong you were. You quickly found yourself struggling and making a mess. Suddenly you heard the keys in the door indicating your boyfriend was home. That would have been fine if it wasn’t for the fact, you barely had one noodle made.  “Babe, I’m home.” Bakugo says as he comes around the corner and sees you and the mess in the kitchen. There was a moment of silence before he spoke again. “What the fuck happened here?” “Um… surprise” you tell him while awkwardly laughing. “Y/n… Babe… I love you. I do. But I don’t trust your cooking, so please for the love of God stay out of my fucking kitchen.” “I’m sorry… I was just trying to surprise you with homemade spicy ramen… sorry for the mess…” you say sadly starting to try and clean. He quickly made his way to you spinning you around to face him. Seeing the sad look on your face he pulled you into a tight hug. “Babe, I’m not mad at you and I really appreciate the gesture, but we both know you can’t cook. I don’t mind doing the cooking. I love the look on your face every time you eat anything I make. Its my second favorite face you make.” You look up at him as you two pulls back from the hug. “Oh, what’s the first?” “I think we both know” he tells you while winking. Your cheeks flashed pink at the comment. Bakugo starts cleaning up the mess. “Why don’t you go order takeout from that restaurant you love so much and then we will watch a movie after I finish cleaning up this mess.” “Here let me help.” “No, it’s fine babe, let me help you, okay?” Smiling, you give in and go order from the restaurant, you two ended up cuddling late into the night. Bakugo would never say it out loud, but he really saw forever with you.

[hanmaitani]

Jealousy

PAIRING - Bodyguard!Matsukawa x Reckless!Reader, Oikawa x Reader WC - 2.4K GENRE - smu, angst CW - Jealousy makes you do stupid shit. Consensual recording of sex. Unprotected sex. Creampie.

PREV PART | MASTERLIST | NEXT PART

You panted heavily. Head thrown back as his hands guided your hips back and forth along his own. “Oh fuck, just like that.” He mumbled against the bare of your chest, tongue licking up against the salty skin of your breast before sucking softly on it, careful not to make a mark.

Your hands twisted into his brown curls and tugged, whining when his dick thrust against your insides and tapped against a sensitive spot. You tried not to feel anything other than the pleasure curling inside of you now.

You knew. There was no way that you couldn’t know. Keiko and Matsukawa always being unavailable at the same times. It was a subtle type of jealousy that crawled its way around your heart. One that you didn’t realize was there. One you couldn’t name. One that you wanted to leave.

You tried to handle it the only way you knew how. Revenge. Specifically, a revenge fuck. He was sleeping with one of your friends so maybe you’d repay the favor.

“Come onnnn.” You whined and begged, leaning on the center console of the SUV so your head poked between the empty passenger seat and where Hanamki sat in the driver’s seat.

“No.” Hanamaki was trying not to laugh, as your dramatic self flopped on the console, trying to give him puppy dog begging eyes. “I’m not going to fuck you.” You’d been trying for about ten minutes now, and failing for about ten minutes.

You huffed for a second before you smiled sickly sweet up at him, “I’ll let you cum in me?”

He couldn’t help the laugh he barked out then. Hanamaki sighed and pushed his shades onto the top of his head, subsequently pushing his strawberry tinted blond hair back as he turned to face you completely. “Kid,” he started, a small smile still playing on his lips as he ruffled your hair, “I know that you know this is just those self-destructive tendencies you’ve got.” He sighs again and it’s like you can feel his pity rocket straight into your heart. “I’m not gonna fuck you just because you and Mattsun are playing some game of who’s being more pussy about your feelings.”

You blink up at him in shock for a moment, trying to register what he’d said. “Wait.” You shake your head. “No, I don’t have feelings for Mattsun and he doesn’t have feelings for me, it isn’t like that.” But you’re speaking fast and it’s like you’re failing at convincing even yourself so you steer the other direction again. “This isn’t about feelings, it’s like…. A dry spell?”

“Kid, you know I’m in love with your brother, right?”

You roll your eyes at the unsurprising information, as though you’d not been watching the way Hanamaki looked at your older brother for years. “Yeah and? You like girls too, right?” It was rhetorical but he opened his mouth to respond until you kept talking. “You can’t confess, I can’t confess, so let’s just-”

“Thought there wasn’t anything to confess?” He looks at you like he’s just caught you in a trap and you freeze. He doesn’t give you the chance to redefend your point, however. “Listen, I love you. I have seen you at your worst, I’ve been there through it all. This,” he gestures to the state you’re in right now generally, “isn’t it girl. You’re like my younger sister. Woman up.” He ends it with a soft flick to your forehead as a pout grows on your lips. He flips his shades back over his eyes, his soft hair easily falling back down to cover his forehead as he turned back to the road. “Which club tonight?”

You knew that he was right. Hanamaki was never the right option. You’d decided you needed a different approach. That’s what brought you in front of a video camera again. You could see the image of yourself and your partner on the computer screen on his desk.

You couldn’t see your face, the camera cut off at just under your chin. It was commonplace to never show your face on camera, your father’s work putting you in the public eye too often for comfort if you were to be publicly found out. Your partner however, had no such qualms. His face was only not shown at the moment because it was pressed between your breasts, licking strips up your skin as he pulled your hips down onto him repeatedly.

Your thighs shook as they spread across his hips, having a harder time keeping your body up as he continued to fuck up into you. Your breath shook, you wanted to cum but you were so focused on trying to stay up, to keep your face out of sight that you couldn’t. You whined in protest and the request came tumbling out. “Oikawa, can’t st-ah. Can’t stay up.”

Oikawa’s head came up from between your breasts and took in the look on your face, a mix of pleasure and frustration. He chuckled a bit but nodded. He moved you easily, lifting you from his lap, keeping your face out of the frame as he slipped out from under you. “Turn that way.” He nodded his head towards the wall opposite the camera and you took the direction, turning your head and letting your hair shield your face as he moved behind you.

Your chest was heaving still, your breasts bobbing slightly as he held you up, your body tired from how long the two of you had been at it. It was the first time you’d met with him, he’d been just a follower, a number and user on your screen until recently. He had a huge following and you’d needed a boost to your account anyways. When he’d asked to collab you’d had the perfect idea.

He chuckled as he pressed your upper body into the bed, hiding your face again before pulling your hips up for him. You whined as he did this, not being coherent enough to move yourself and kind of loving the way he just moved your body how he wanted. Oikawa’s hand reached out for the camera, winking at it before directing it down towards his view of you.

“Dick just so good she can’t keep upright anymore.” You rolled your eyes at the cockiness in his tone but didn’t respond. The camera picked up the way your tangled hair spread around where you buried your face in the pillow, exposing the delicate skin of your neck. He trailed his finger, and the camera from there down your spine and how it curved for him. Down until he got to your ass, grabbing a handful and pulling it from the other. You whined at how you could feel your lower lips part from the grip, cool air brushing your wet core. The camera caught it too.

“Oikawaaa.” You whined his name as you reached back, your fingers finding his cock and trying to drag it back to your entrance. The camera caught the way your perfectly manicured nails guided his tip to your wetness and the way his cockhead spread your cunt open before he pulled back out, your wetness shiny on the rubber covering his cock. “Take it off.” It was almost too quiet, but he and the camera heard you perfectly. Especially when your fingers tugged slightly at the bit of space left at the top of the condom when he pulled back.

“Look at what a freak she is.” He was talking to the camera, not to you. “Want me to fuck you raw?” You whined in response, a show for the camera, you really couldn’t care. He was already pulling the condom off and letting it drop next to your knee before pressing his cock back to your entrance.

There was a slick squelch from your cunt as he bottomed out in one motion he groaned lowly and kept the camera trained on how your body swallowed his cock thrust after thrust. This was easier for you to do. Nothing you had to focus on except for pressing your fingers to your clit and chasing your own orgasm. It was easy then, feeling the coils twisting and tightening, close to snapping as his hips got quicker.

Your orgasm was underwhelming but was relieving after having unconsciously holding it off. Oikawa followed soon after, hips stuttering and then halting, tip still inside as he came inside of you. His cum leaked out around his cock, dripping down your thighs as he pointed the camera at it. He zoomed in on the way it pooled next to your knee, tauntingly flowing onto the discarded condom before he trained the camera back up to where it continued to leak out of you.

Matsukawa tossed his phone down on the couch in irritation as he stood over your form in your shared living room. “You fucked Oikawa? Are you fucking kidding me!?” You actually weren’t aware of how close he and Oikawa had been until after you’d posted the video. Oikawa had mentioned something about how ‘Mattsun will never believe this.’ It had made you freeze.

You rolled your eyes and feigned nonchalance, pretending like it didn’t make you a little bit proud that Matsukawa was upset about the situation. “It’s just good business, Mattsun.” A smirk formed around his name as you stared up at him, you could see his fists clench out of the corner of your eye. “Tooru’s got a great following.” You let the name slide off your tongue, Oikawa’s first name. It had Matsukawa’s jaw clenching, the vein on his neck seeming to pop.

“That’s not just business.” He growled in irritation. “You let him cum in you.” So he had watched the whole thing. You had to shove down your temptation to laugh at him.

“But Mattsuunnnn.” You drew out the last consonant in a bit of a whine, missing the way his breath hitched at the sound of his name falling from your lips like that. “Look how popular the video is. It’s gonna make soooo much money.” You put on your sweetest smile. You weren’t wrong and Matsukawa knew it. The video had done better in one night than most did in their first week up. “People like to see cum.” You giggled but gasped when he grabbed your arm and started to drag you towards the bathroom. “Hey! What are you doing!”

He rolled his eyes and placed you in a sitting position on top of the toilet seat cover. “Sit there.” You opened your mouth to speak but he cut you off again. “Quietly.” You rolled your eyes but complied, intrigued as you watched him riffle through the cabinets before taking out a bag you recognized from the back of the space. “Open.” He instructed as he broke one of the Plan B pills out of their packaging. You laughed at him but stuck your tongue out with a dramatic ‘ahhh’ sound and let him toss the pill into your mouth before giving you a glass of tap.

When you were done swallowing it you laughed and put your arms on the counter, leaning forward to watch as he turned to the medicine cabinet looking for his next goal. “Really? I would have done that after breakfast, you know.”

“No one wants a mini Oikawa running around. Have you even taken your birth control yet, today?” He dropped the foil packet on the counter when he found it and you barked another laugh.

“I’m not a baby, you don’t have to remind me.”

“Yeah? Well today’s is still in that packaging so if I don’t you’ll end up having one.” He snapped and you scoffed as you grabbed at the packet of pills.

“I’m not gonna get pregnant, Mattsun.” You assure as you pop the tiny pill in your mouth and take another swig of the tap water.

“Not if I can help it you won’t.” He says it like he’s protecting you. He pretends that’s the reason too. Because protecting you is his job. He won’t admit that some part inside of him just absolutely hates the idea of Oikawa possibly being able to lay a claim on you like that.

“So.” You kick your feet in the air over the side of the couch. You’re laying on it sideways so that you can still see Matsukawa in the kitchen making dinner for the two of you. “If I can’t see Oikawa again,” he had strictly forbade it after a long and heated discussion between the two of you earlier which led to him insulting Oikawa and telling you that you’d sleep with him again ‘over his dead body,’ “is there any friends you could hook me up with?”

Matsukawa doesn’t even bother looking over his shoulder to entertain you. His voice is monotone as he responds. “I don’t have friends.”

You snort lightly. “Fine, I’ll just ask Makki.”

“Makki doesn’t have friends either.” Matsukawa shot back his answer so quickly that you had to almost find it kind of impressive.

“You know, Tooru mentioned one guy that y’all used to hang around with a lot… what was his name?” You pretended to think for a second, tapping your chin and humming. “Wasn’t it Iw-”

“No.” Matsukawa answered quickly, cutting off the line of conversation before you could even fully finish saying his name.“Fine.” You groaned as you let your head flop back on the couch. “You know, I could set you up with one of my friends. I’ve got a ton that would like you.” You miss the way that the muscles in his back clench at the offer, a stiffness flooding his body as he glances at the way you’ve seemed to melt back into the couch, staring at the ceiling now. Your mind is spinning about who you would let have him. Something from the back of it screams ‘no one!’ You ignore that. The biggest thought in your brain is, instead… anyone other than someone who was so close to being you, but not you. Anyone but Keiko.

a/n oikawa be being a lil shit without even knowing it

TAGLIST - OPEN

@boosyboo9206 @faumpje @miyamizuna

@all-in-the-fandoms @pearl-blue-musings @qichun

[tunastime]

Restful Dreaming, Mr. Freelancer

hi everyone :3 so um. I may have gotten very much into rvb smiles. and you know what happens when I really love something! and when I really love some guys from a something! yeap. here we go again. I just think caboose could be friends with everyone. I'm a caboose enjoyer what can I say. I love him.

Washington follows the Blue Team back to Valhalla, where he tries to get some much needed rest. Emphasis on tries. (3828 words)

When Tucker and Caboose find the unused, fourth room in the base, it’s Tucker that sweeps his arm out and gestures grandly to the room around them. It’s not very large—bed, closet, table, desk, bathroom. Enough space to walk around in—enough blue-white light to make sure nobody goes insane in somewhere so dark. Caboose goes on about how they’re almost neighbors, listing off what they could do being so close, gossip and sleepovers and the like, and Tucker goes on about how that’s nice, Caboose, and sure thing, buddy, and both speak to a Wash that’s not listening. He’s looking over the room, filtering in through a fine layer of yellow, just enough to change the hue from cool to warm, and something settles in the slope of his shoulders. He turns after a beat, folding his arms.

“You’re certain I can stay here?” he asks. Tucker shrugs.

“Yeah, I mean…” he starts, in the way that Tucker always seemed to do when he was on the edge of a decision that ultimately made him uncomfortable. “Just repaying the favor. Plus you’re the only one who really knows how to get Church outta that thing.”

“Epsilon,” Wash corrects. “And it’s a memory unit, not a thing.”

“Sure,” Tucker shrugs. “Whatever.”

“We still don’t know where that thing is,” Wash says, but it’s without any of the usual bored sting he might’ve normally laid on. He can feel the worry in the room like water around the ankles, like it invaded his boots. He steps side to side for a moment, trying to shake the feeling.

“We’ll find it!” Caboose pipes up, nodding several times. “We’ll find Church. I know we will.”

Wash sighs. 

“Yeah,” he says. “I hope so.”

There’s a beat of silence. Wash feels his lungs work against the tight feeling in his shoulders all the way up until the point where Caboose breaks the silence.

“I’m going to go make lunch,” he says. “I’m starving.”

“Good point, Caboose,” Tucker agrees. He turns to Wash as he adds: “You, uh, let us know if you need anything. You’ve got the tour, now, so…”

Wash nods.

“Right,” he manages. “Thanks.”

“Sure thing.”

The silence leftover is mostly full of the sound of air circulating through the room and pulling into his helmet. Washington stands in the room in that long moment, finding his head spinning just enough to rock his balance. He’s not so sure he should even be standing, but Tucker had handed him enough med-kits to keep him running, and his bones felt mostly in place, despite some nasty bruising up his shoulder and back, all the way down his right hip and thigh and knee. He pulls himself from his stuck spot, finally gathering the strength to unlatch his helmet. Both thumbs hook under his chin until it clicks, and he sets it in the armor stand. 

The thing about the armor is that they’re not necessarily supposed to take it off. It does come off, huge chunks of titanium alloy perfectly compressed to fit each wearer, to sit comfortably against layers of computer arrays and magnetic fasteners, bolts and straps and sealers. As soon as he starts pulling, chest pieces and arm braces come loose, and he sheds the exosuit slowly. Underneath is the cool-black bodysuit. That’s the part that really shouldn’t come off. It did, every once in a while, when there was enough time to spend recalibrating, readjusting, resyncing. The suit and all its layers, down to the skin, down to the channel of his spine, from tailbone to nape of neck, aligned with sensors and biocomponents along a fine, white scar to a thick, but equally healed one at the base of his skull, took time to adjust to. That time was precious.

But it didn’t matter with this suit. There was no connection. The suit would simply communicate without having to know, would respond to forces it knew best, and rely on what he had without a physical, grounding connection. He was free of it. The scar and its components would fade from his body. They’d be nothing but a memory.

Carefully, Wash dissects the titanium bodysuit—kevlar—coming apart at the seam, carefully fastened, skin-tight. It’s uncomfortable at first, adjusting to the air of the base, without the suit’s micro-adjustments for temperature and humidity, but he eventually shirks free and places everything in the armor compartment. 

He feels light. He also feels exposed and a little small. He searches for any sort of replacement, sleeping clothes, uniforms, anything plastered with UNSC across the arm or chest or back. When he does find it, he’s quick to pull it on and over his head. The shirt falls crooked across him, pants similarly too large, and he has to wonder what sort of Spartan these were made for, knowing how he certainly wasn’t the smallest soldier he’d met. It’s something, though, and he doubts he’ll be wearing it for very long. In fact, he finds himself tugging it off as soon as he figures out the shower, and douses himself in hot water long enough to get the plastic smell off his skin. 

Without the shadow of the day, his reflection in the mirror takes on a sunken quality. His eyes are dark and tired, lines stretching out underneath them, and the already-pale, now-bony quality of his face does little to hide it. He’s turned all sharp angles all too quickly. But if he’s got anyone to bitch to it would be himself. Well, maybe Caboose and Tucker would listen. But they probably wouldn’t understand. Epsilon might’ve ratted out his bad sleeping habits to Caboose, were he still around to actually see them. But he very well was half the reason they existed, so, touche. 

Besides, now Wash was looking out on a bed that was impossibly too big for him. He pulls back far too many layers of blankets and pushes aside pillows and makes himself a space between it all.

The lights are dim, casting long, fine shadows in the cool light. They dim further to a blackness as he settles, lying back in the few pillows and pulling still-starchy sheets around him. His tired body all but sinks into the mattress, body aching at every joint from overuse, begging to stay and to be comforted. It's there he lies for a moment, adjusting to weight and pressure, air and texture around him. He sighs. It’s the longest exhale in what feels like a very long time. The back of his throat, up through his nose, starts to burn. 

He squeezes his eyes shut. He takes a sharp breath in.

Washington’s hands come up on instinct, pressing the heels of his hands to his eyes as he fights back a sound from deep in his chest. It’s hard—it feels so stupid to call this hard, because he could just crack, just for a second. Just for a moment of relief, and—he does, shutting his eyes tight still and willing in a breath through his nose as he turns his face into pillows that he hopes were nobody else's and probably never were and never would be again. Nobody knows he’s alive. Not Command, not Project Freelancer, not the Meta—Maine. Not even Epsilon. For now. The weight off his shoulders was so instant it nearly winded him, on a bed seemingly too large. It was simply him, unshackled, and the blue-white armor in its case, and Caboose, and Tucker. And the base around him was quiet. 

Washington lets his body relax. Sleep comes like a heavy blanket.

His second week’s worth of sleep doesn’t go as well. Tonight, Wash is still awake. It’s not of his own choice—if it were he’d already be asleep, curled into the plush pillows and firm mattress. He stares up at the ceiling. His eyes are dry, and it’s not all that comfortable to blink, actually. He’d prefer to focus on sinking into this nice bed, but he’s having a bit of a hard time. What he means by nice bed is that he’s gotten so used to sleeping on the ground or in the back seat of a moving Warthog or the jet or his cot so folded and unfolded that it stopped being comfortable, or the bunk that was just the right size but not nearly deep enough to fit him without moving, that having actual room to move around is really good. It’s really good, actually, and he’s not sure when the last time he had such a nice sleep was. 

He’s not even sure when he woke up that first day, aside from the fact that it was Caboose waking him up and it was still dark out—or had just gotten that way. Maybe he’d slept that whole day. But he wandered around the Valhalla base instead, swallowing down the ache low in his spine. He mapped the rooms in his head, twisting around the circular hallways. Kitchen, armory, five rooms, garage, a small central living quarters that remained barren and empty, aside from bits of broken computers, radios, and robot parts. The floor still smelled like cleaner, remnant from the UNSC’s thorough cleaning.

Anyway—he’s still awake in his own room. His eyes hurt. He’s looking into the dark grey ceiling and wondering if sleep might crawl its way back to him when there’s a knock on the door. There’s a brief pause before it happens again. He frowns, scrubbing at his eyes as his brain fights the fog settling over it.

“Agent Washington,” a voice says, feigning a whisper through the sliding door. 

“Caboose?” he whispers back, furrowing his eyebrows. Isn’t it late? He looks over to the bedside table, reading the dull red numbers on the clock—yeah. Late. “What are you still doing up?”

He hears Caboose sigh. If he thinks hard enough he can imagine him leaning against the metal frame, cheek pressed against the door, looking about as pathetic as he sounds.

“I can’t sleep,” he says, part tired and almost part sad. 

“Why’s that?”

“I—” Caboose lowers his voice even further. “I had a nightmare.”

Wash blinks slowly, sitting up, eyebrows still furrowed as he frowns. He counts himself lucky that his head isn’t spinning from lying down too much. Sighing, he presses his fingers to his eyes, rubbing the sleep from them, trying to make the blurry room come back into focus.

“You—” he tsks as he words jumble in his brain, hazy with sleep. “Why did you come here?”

“Can I come sleep with you?” Caboose asks, completely ignoring the previous question. Heels of the hands to his eye sockets. Alright. Fine. He waves uselessly at the door, knowing full well Caboose can’t see him. Then it clicks in his brain: response. Right.

When Wash goes to give him an answer, it’s replaced by the sound of his bedroom door sliding open and shut and Caboose wandering in. The muddled dark obscures his silhouette more than usual and the normally wide slope of his shoulders was much more drawn in than Wash was expecting. He’s partially shrouded by his own blanket, wrapped around him as he steps in. 

Wash feels something rolling around in his chest as he watches Caboose shuffle over, like his brain isn’t absorbing the situation properly. He mostly just feels lost. He’s still sitting up, slouched forward, mouth a fine line. His arms pool in his lap, head tilted just so as he observes Caboose in front of him. This is weird, right? Not in a bad way. It’s just weird. 

Caboose stands there, frowning just a little bit, enough to almost be a pout, mostly looking at the bedside and not at Washington.

“I—” Wash starts, trying to protest. Caboose looks up at him for a moment with wide, brown eyes, and Wash feels his chest tighten. He shuts his eyes, sighing out of his nose. Then he pulls the covers back, gesturing vaguely to the space next to him as he lies back down. If there was one thing he’d learned from Caboose, it was that there was no arguing a point once he’d made his mind up. He was as stubborn as he was strong, and the man wasn’t slight. 

There’s a beat of silence as Washington gets comfortable again against the mattress again, feeling Caboose move to his left. He worms around a bit, knee bumping the outside of Wash’s leg, elbows knocking together as Caboose makes more of Wash’s bed his own space. With Caboose’s arm now pinning his own, he clears his throat.

“Caboose,” he says firmly.

“Washington,” Caboose says, like his name holds the same weight as it did so long ago. At least someone’s impressed.

He sighs. Caboose is a heavy, warm weight against his side, and although he clings to his left arm like his life might depend on it, Washington couldn’t necessarily call it bad. 

“You can either get comfortable,” he says slowly. “Or I’m going to ask you to leave.”

“Okay,” Caboose says quickly, wriggling further over. As his head lolls, it falls against the bone of the high of Wash’s shoulder. He ends up curled up in the space Wash’s side leaves open, head on his shoulder and arm over his ribcage. He’s heavy, holding himself and Wash to the mattress as he relaxes. Wash’s arm ends up pinned under him, bendable at the elbow, enough to shift around and find a comfortable spot to rest it. Caboose manages to pull the blankets over them both haphazardly, lying part on him and part over Washington’s torso. He squeezes his eyes shut. Caboose cannot be serious. This can’t be his solution, right? He takes a long breath in. Caboose finally says:

“Thank you, Washington,” in a soft and sleepy voice mostly muffled by his shoulder.

Washington sighs.

“Sure, Caboose,” he says, resigned. “Glad I could help.”

Caboose hums, sounding comfortable. In the time it takes for Caboose to finally knock out, how short of a time that was, Wash finally relaxes. He lets the weight around him settle him on the mattress, tired and heavy, and lets his eyes close. He can’t catch the edge of sleep just yet, but he can lay here, quiet and still, so that Caboose can sleep. He matches the slow rise and fall of Caboose’s shoulders, feeling his muscles slacken as he drifts off. Maybe it’s nice, actually. The weight against his side, pressure to the muscles that ache, warmth and heavy comfort. He can’t remember the last time someone shared the same bed space as him—those bunks were too small to really fall asleep next to somebody in, and sleeping in shifts wasn’t the same as someone sleeping against you. 

He can faintly feel where Caboose’s cheek is crushed against his shoulder, where his arm rests over his chest, hand tucked against his other side. When he looks over, Caboose’s eyes have shut, face relaxed in sleep. There, he leans, pressing his cheek to the top of Caboose’s head, squeezing his eyes shut. Maybe it is nice. Maybe being needed for something so innocent as comfort could be nice. His chest twists, something as painful as it is warm weaseling up next to his lungs. 

It reminds him of Invention. Nobody really wanted to leave York alone after the accident on the training room floor. He could fall or trip, he could miscalculate and hit into something harder than expected. They spent time crammed into the bunk spaces, shoulders to shoulders, to hips, to legs over knees, trying to catch sleep in between missions, how little time that was. Washington found himself in these moments more often than not, and now more than ever it seemed that touch was a thing not often disseminated. But he had it now, and he let himself have it. He let Caboose snore into the hollow of his shoulder and tuned it out as he tried to rest.

In the morning he’ll ask him what bothered him so much that he couldn’t sleep, or why he thought Wash could help. It wasn’t important now. 

For now, he just tries to sleep.

Wash feels heavy. 

He blinks his eyes open, the world coming to in barely-there light and soft blankets. There’s a weight over him, warm and solid. Caboose still sleeps soundly even as Wash shifts to stretch pins and needles from his left arm. The world stays still, held in a quiet balance. In it, Caboose breathes slowly and evenly against his shoulder, torso still haphazardly thrown across Wash’s chest. He’s curled his hand in a loose fist, snagging part of Wash’s shirt. 

Washington sighs. There lingers a heavy, groggy feeling over his mind that he thinks he’ll have a hard time shaking, remnants of running too hard, too fast without stopping. He fought so hard only to again come up empty handed, aside from the now-bitter taste of his freedom. But for now he focuses on this moment. He rests his cheek against the top of Caboose’s head. 

As he does, Caboose hums, waking enough to tense and relax again.

“Good morning, Caboose,” Wash manages tiredly, lying still. Caboose doesn’t move either, except to shift his cheek to a more comfortable position.

“Hello, Washington,” Caboose says, slow and sleep-thick but cheery. “You let me stay!”

Wash huffs out something, maybe a laugh and maybe a sigh.

“You’re surprised?” Wash asks, staring at the ceiling. It takes a minute for Caboose to answer, and in that time, Wash’s eyes shut, too heavy to hold open. Caboose draws his arm back from his chest.

“Tucker’s not very cuddly,” he says, only partially answering the question. “I can’t really judge if people will like it.”

“I take it not many do?” He asks. Caboose shrugs, somewhat stilted, speaking in that long, sighing way that he does.

“It varies.”

Wash hums.

“Right.”

In a beat of silence, Caboose unravels himself. He sits up, swaying a bit, shuffling around. It leaves a cold hollow where he used to lie, and Wash pulls his arm back from where it used to curl around him. He folds his hands over his sternum as Caboose sits up and shifts back.

“How did you sleep!” He asks, leaning forward, arms resting on his knees. Wash nods, finally blinking his eyes open.

“It was fine,” he says slowly. “How did you sleep?”

Caboose shrugs again.

“I slept okay—” he says. “You scared off all my bad dreams I think.”

Wash snorts, furrowing his eyebrows. Caboose blinks down at him with wide eyes. It’s almost catlike, the way he watches over him, like he’s waiting for Wash to reach out and force him to move out of his space. He’s still slightly blurry, courtesy of the sleep in Wash’s eyes.

“I did?” Wash asks. Caboose nods, looking sincere

“Yep.”

Wash looks away, huffing out. Something turns in his chest, warmly at that.

“Well that’s good,” he says. Caboose nods again. He’s just far enough away that in the dim lighting Washington can’t really read his face, but it seems soft and comfortable and Wash tries to remember if that’s a good thing. There’s only so many times you see someone’s face while being out in the field that you sort of just learn reactions based on tone and less on body language. After a beat, Wash says, haltingly, brain trying to find the words:

“Caboose, what… what is it that you had a nightmare about? What—why did you come to me?”

Caboose shrugs, waving his hands back and forth. He’s not looking at him.

“Oh, you know, just about Church and Epsilon, and Tex, and you, and everyone dying and exploding and dying again,” he sighs, shoulders falling, looking distinctly less bothered than Wash expects him to be. It puts something cold-to-cool in the pit of his stomach. “But it’s okay, you’re still here! And nightmares are afraid of you.”

Wash swallows.

“Oh,” he says lamely. It doesn’t feel right, all of a sudden, to just be sitting here. Caboose tilts his head at him.

“Did you have a nightmare, Agent Washington?” he asks, leaning forward a bit. He squints at him. Wash stares back, eyes wide. “You look kinda pale.”

“Um, no,” he says plainly. “No I don’t… normally dream.”

“Oh,” Caboose says. His face drops. “That sounds sad.”

Wash shakes his head.

“It’s fine.”

Caboose hums, tapping his hands on his knees.

“You can tell me if you ever have a nightmare,” he says, smiling, a pleased look crossing his face. “I can come and scare it away.”

Wash snorts, a smile creeping onto his face. He folds his hands together, tracing out the edge of his thumb with his other thumb. He furrows his eyebrows as he looks up at Caboose.

“Are you looking for an excuse to sleep next to someone?” He asks, a curious lilt to his voice. Caboose blinks, eyes falling to his hands. He shrugs.

“No…” he says. Then, “Maybe.”

“Well it…” Wash sighs, shutting his eyes again. “It was nice. Thank you, Caboose.”

“Mhm,” Caboose says sleepily.

There’s a moment of silence. Wash moves to get more comfortable, shifting back to rest his head properly on the pillows. He can feel his body sag as he does, that tired tug pulling on his shoulders and hips and eyes. He drums his fingers against his sternum, watching Caboose. Caboose’s eyes slip shut for a moment as he leans hand against his hand. 

“I’m uh…going to try to get some more sleep,” he finally manages, clearing his throat. Caboose stays still, as if he’s fallen asleep again, shoulders weakly rising and falling as he breathes. “Caboose?”

There’s no answer. Caboose leans sideways as Wash goes to reach for him, folding like he’d lost all his core stability. As he crumples, he falls forward, half onto Wash in front of him, half into the bed itself.

“Caboose,” Wash tries again. Caboose doesn’t move, sinking further into his side.

Wash sighs. Caboose stays, solid and heavy and thrown over his chest. He feels like a little kid again, sharing a room with his sisters, or he feels like it’s some time back in training, both cats making their home on his chest. Caboose was kind of like a cat. If a cat were a dog, were late to the punch, were the same level as unable to catch the joke as he was. It was kind of sweet. Wash shifts him ever so slightly, until he’s leaning into his side again, head against his shoulder.

Caboose yawns, sighing out against his shoulder, shuffling to get comfortable. Wash curls his arm over his back, hand cupping around his shoulder, smoothing his thumb over the seam of his shirt. Caboose makes a little noise, a little sigh, and falls quiet. The world, too, is warm and quiet. Somewhere in that warmth, a soothing feeling washes over him.

Just a little more sleep, he thinks. Then he’ll get up.

[ariseur]

your take on dante with an assassin reader? could be fic or headcanon and any genre (pref. fluff)

“well, long time no see, huh?”

you groaned at dante’s voice, tucking your sniper rifle back into its holster on your back. stepping over the rubble and now deteriorating bodies of hell antenoras and riots that laid on the debris, you managed a weary chuckle, “yeah yeah, well. you owe me right now that i just saved your ass.”

he lazily grinned at you before he turned his head at the sound of a few hell caina approaching. wielding his sword, he charged right into the group while you got your own close range weapon out and attacked the demons behind him.

tiring, yes— but everything’s tiring with dante. as you evaded one of the caina’s swings, you began again, “and the last job. and the one before that.. and the other one before that.. and—“

“okay! yeah, i get it! i owe you!” he blurted out, clearly gritting his teeth as he finally killed most of them with just one combo.

you laughed as you watched him shoot the remaining one with ivory, the bullet ringing out into the desolate air as you finally finished your own battles.

..and then the real cherry on top was the herd of antenora heading straight for you.

“great, another pain in the ass to worry about.” you said, earning a little, “hey—!” from dante.

as if the multitude of demons weren’t approaching you right now with super sharp axes, dante turned to you and inched closer as he gave you a breathy laugh.

“so, how should i repay that favor, sweetheart?”

“maybe take out those demons for me?” you gave a cheeky grin as you slipped out of his advancements and jogged away into the dingy alleyways, watching as he rolled his eyes and immediately blocked the axe with devil sword dante.

“i guess i have some— time!” that last part came out a little rushed as he evaded one of the blades that came rushing at his head. you chuckled behind your hand with your other one rested on your hip.

looking behind you just to make sure no demons were on their way to make you their next victim, you turned back to dante and gave him a two finger salute. “come on ‘son of sparda’! catch up with me later!” and with that, you ran off into the darkness of the alleyway, footsteps getting further and further.

dante snickered amusedly with a shake of his head as he parried the axe. “a real handful.” he muttered.

[kalimsgirlfriend]

𝗵𝗼𝘄 𝘁𝗵𝗲𝘆 𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗰𝘁 𝘁𝗼 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝘁𝗲𝗹𝗹𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗺 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗹𝗼𝘃𝗲 𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗺

chars; Elizabeth Liones, King, Diane, Arthur

genre; just pure fluff

A/N; just simple hc’s, i might not be too good at capturing their characters though so im sorry if its inaccurate :)

Elizabeth

my sweet girl :(

she’s always been very kind, and you were no exception as, in Elizabeth’s eyes, everyone deserves love.

due to the amount of time she spends at the boar hat, working as a waitress, sometimes it tires her, and on this particular day, she tired herself out a little too much

upon noticing, you decided to swoop in and help her, after all, she’s always been there for you in times where you needed someone so the least you can do is repay the favor, right?

when you managed to sneak off with Elizabeth, you took her outside to get some fresh air, poor girl was working so hard as of late and you felt bad for her.

when you had sat down next to Elizabeth, she quietly thanked you for your gesture and gave you a smile, a sweet and genuine smile—she’s glad to know that there’s someone so attentive to her and you’re glad to have someone like her around, someone so genuine yet determined, it’s caused you to harbor some love for the princess.

soon though, you’re snapped out of your thoughts when Elizabeth, after a few minutes of silence, asks why you took her outside, genuine curiosity laced within her voice. taken aback by the sudden question, you hesitate a bit before answering her question with honesty, telling her that you love and care for her and would rather she get some rest rather than work herself to exhaustion.

though you couldn’t see her face, Elizabeth’s face flushed lightly at the admission of your love and care for her, as her light blue eyes trail towards you and after gaining her composure, she turns her body towards you, taking your hand in hers and in a happy tone of voice, Elizabeth says, "I love you too!"

King

when King returned to the fairy king’s forest, as a fairy you were shocked. he has been gone for so long and now he comes back? and with two guests too, if you remember correctly they’re called "Jericho" and "Ban" and both of them appeared to be humans.

however that shock turned into pity when you saw your fellow fairies throw rocks at him and reject him as their king—you understood why they acted in such a way, he turned his back on you all in a way but you can’t help but feel bad for him, but this is because you used to be one of his close friends, aside from Helbram.

eventually, you found yourself looking around for him, flying around in search of him after he disappeared into the forest after the fairy’s rejected him, and eventually you found him sitting on a branch, helmet over his head and tears seemed to be running down his cheeks but you can’t see his face.

you landed next to King quietly, not making a single sound as you waited for King to remove the helmet on his head and when he did, he flinched and scrambled back a little, wiping his tears away and speaking in a surprised tone, "(name)?!". out of all the people King would’ve expected to see, he didn’t expect to see his old friend.

when you sat next to King, he didn’t know wether he should scoot closer or allow you to sit at your preferred distance. King would awkwardly fiddle with the sleeves of his sweater, before you eventually broke the silence and asked him why he came back.

"…Ban told me that the forest was restored, and i didn’t believe him so i followed him here." King says, admitting the reason he returned. when he returned to the fairy king’s forest, it was burned down, and when Ban told him that the forest was restored, he didn’t believe him so he followed him only to be shocked that it was indeed restored.

"are you mad at me?" King asks after a bit of silence from his end, looking over at you and praying, hoping to whatever God that you aren’t mad at him or holding grudges against him, he wouldn’t be able to handle it if his only other close friend hated him—not after he just lost Helbram.

but much to King’s surprise, you shook your head, showing that you weren’t mad at him. initially you were but eventually came to terms that he had his own reasons for leaving. however when you tell King that you were only worried about him because you love him and wanted him to be safe, which made his cheeks burn a bright red.

King stared down at the grass below before deciding to eventually reply to you—he’s never been verbally told "i love you" by other people before so this is a first for him, with a slight twinge of shyness in his voice, King eventually replies to you with, "…I love you too, and thank you for worrying about me, i’m glad you’re my friend, (name)."

Diane

you never understood why people were afraid of Diane, yes she’s a giantess but she’s a very sweet and cute one, she can be very fierce whenever she wants to be too and it always upset you whenever someone mistreated her, knowing she would never do the same to them.

when Diane had managed to shrink down after receiving pills from Merlin, you spent your time with her picking out human sized outfits for her to change into and try on—and whenever Diane showed you a new outfit she tried on you always hyped her up, knowing how much she had been yearning for the moment she’d be human sized.

you had also taken Diane around Liones, buying food for her to taste and try out, and she seemed to enjoy all of them—sure, it may have been expensive but you forgot all about how much you spent whenever you saw the look of pure joy on Diane’s face. you were glad you could make her experience so great.

when you both were walking back to the boar hat, you both had decided that she’d be spending the night in your room, to have a girls night, something she had never really had been able to do before because she could never fit into your room. you had insisted on carrying all of Diane’s bags for her, you really didn’t mind, it’s the least you can do for her—the giantess who always saved you whenever you needed it.

you did have to clarify with Meliodas thay Diane will not be working that night, though you did promise to make it up to him eventually. when Diane finally stepped foot into your room for the first time, the first thing she did was lay down on your bed, feeling the comfort of the mattress and bed sheets and you followed shortly after, sitting next to her as she laid on the bed.

"thank you for making today such a great day for me, (name)!" Diane said with a smile, looking up at you, purple eyes showing pure happiness at the moment, and you couldn’t help but return her smile, shaking your head and saying she didn’t need to thank you, that you did it because you love and value her as a friend.

hearing the word "love" fall from your lips had stunned Diane for a second before she sat up and hugged you gently, almost as if, despite no longer being the height of a giantess, she still fears she might hurt you if she holds you too tightly. with Diane hugging you gently, she replied to you without hesitation with an "I love you too! you’re the bestest friend ever, (name)!"

Arthur Pendragon

(i love him so much it’s not even funny, nnt Arthur come home </3)

being the friend of a young king meant you couldn’t see him too often, but Arthur would always do his best to make time for you, his best friend. Arthur cares deeply for you, that much shows when he tries his very best to make sure you stay happy and that he does his best visit you when he’s free of his duties.

you know Arthur as a kind boy, and deep down, you feel as though he’ll be a great king one day, you’ve told him this plenty of times before and every single time, his face flushed a bit red and he seemed flustered. it was always funny to see but to be expected, after all—he was only a young boy at the time so naturally he would grow flustered sometimes when praised, especially by you.

one day, when a spring festival had occurred within Camelot, Arthur had asked you to go with him, as he wants to show you the joy that festivals bring people, and you agreed to go with him, not needing a lot of convincing as he’s your best friend. you had expected only to be tasting the food, watching the people mingle but much to your surprise, Arthur had pulled you onto the dance floor and only then do you realize why he told you to get all dressed up and why Merlin had delivered you new dresses—Arthur had been planning to dance with you all along.

Arthur didn’t seem to be nervous, rather he seemed to be a bit confident in himself as he danced with you in his arms, and you wonder, how long has he been planning this? last time you tried to help Arthur learn to dance, well, he wasn’t exactly the best yet now he seems to be better at dancing, he doesn’t step on your toes nor does he stumble, he seems more balanced and capable when it comes to dancing now.

you seemed to notice that, as he danced he was slowly but surely leading you away from the crowds of people before eventually twirling you into his arms, now somewhere less crowded and more quiet, but you can still faintly hear the music being played by the band from afar. you were about to ask Arthur what he was doing before he grabbed your hands, enveloping them with his own, and he looked at you with a smile.

"i haven’t been making enough time for you lately, (name), and since it’s the anniversary of the day we became friends ten years ago, i thought of dancing with you like how we did all those years ago!" Arthur said with his usual cheery tone, not noticing the slight flush rising against your cheeks—you didn’t expect him to do all this just to celebrate the ten years you two have been friends. you felt flattered, to know someone cared enough to remember when you both became friends.

Arthur did feel a little guilty that he didn’t have enough time to spend with you as of late so he chose to make up for it by setting up the festival and having you dance with him, and Arthur’s face became as red as a tomato when you thanked him, told you how much he means to you and how much you loved him for all he’s done for you.

though shaking his head, snapping out of his flustered state, he offered a boyish grin as his hold on your hands tightened a little, but it didn’t feel painful, in fact it felt gentle but Arthur has always been gentle with you. Arthur has always been waiting for those three words to leave your mouth, and after all that waiting, he was rewarded since that day finally came!

"I love you too, (name)! i’ll always cherish you, okay? don’t forget that!" Arthur said, smile softening slightly and warm gaze set on you, promising to always cherish you. he felt tempted to say more, to say he’ll always be there for you, to say he’ll always protect and love you but Arthur felt that he should save that for another time, after all, you two have a festival to get back to!

that’s it! i hope it was good and hope that my fav isn’t obvious :3 if you want more hcs, feel free to request! i’m open to writing for any fandom :D