#drawing him after a shower/bath one of the only excuses i could think for drawing his bare back at this age/general time

[hannibals-favourite-meal]

Congratulations on the milestone love✨🎉

For my request, 'walking in on the other' with Steve Rogers? Or with any marvel character, whatever you see fit!

Thank you 💙

.⋆｡Midnight Swim｡⋆.

Steve Rogers x plus size reader

Being on the run doesn’t exactly get you a comfortable life, but finally, there’s a chance for you to relax, if only you could find your swimsuit… or not

Warnings: skinny dipping, nudity (obvi), brief mentions of the events of Civil War, implied smut WC: 1.4k

6k Follower Celebration Bingo

Library- @hannibals-favourite-meal-library

You ached, putting it lightly. Months of running from virtually every government on the planet didn’t exactly give you the luxury of relaxing or unwinding after a long day. The rooms you stayed in never had baths to soak in or even a comfy mattress to sink into so when Steve announced that the motel you were going to had not only a jacuzzi but also king sized beds, you thought you had died and gone to heaven. 

“I hope you don’t mind sleeping on the floor, gorgeous, cause I will be spread eagle on that bed.” Sam wrapped an arm around your shoulder as you climbed the cement steps up to the second floor. 

“Don’t worry about me birdie, that hot tub is calling my name.” You moaned, giving the man a light shove.

“We leave at sunup, don’t get too comfortable.” Steve’s voice broke the little bubble of happiness around the two of you. You looked back at the man, his brow was furrowed, the muscles in his jaw clenching. It wasn’t hard to see that he was different now; gone was the hopeful and starry eyed golden boy, instead you were left with a man who was only trying to survive in the face of complete betrayal of everything he held dear. Throw in a beard and a whole new uniform, Captain America was no more.

“C’mon Steve, we can afford a couple days of rest. We’re all exhausted.” Natasha laid a hand on his arm. “Besides, I think we all need to have a proper shower and do laundry.” You smiled gratefully at her as Steve sighed.

“Alright, just don’t draw too much attention to yourselves. Nat, how about you room with Sam?” 

“It’s my turn to get Y/L/N.” Sam stopped in front of the door to his room, shooting a puzzled look at you. Nat matched his expression but still stepped forward to take your spot next to the man. 

“We both know you’re gonna fall asleep immediately, just like Nat, and if Y/N is going down to the pool, someone needs to stay up to make sure she’s ok.” Steve shoved the key in the door, not bothering to even look in your direction. You met Sam’s gaze but he could only shrug at you as Nat wiggled her eyebrows.

Of course the woman knew about your crush on the ex-Captain, given that it was the one reason you had yet to room with him despite the rotating roommates you agreed to when you went on the run. Your stomach rolled as you tried to come up with any excuse to not walk in that room and have to face the reality of sharing a bed with the man who’s responsible for the mass ruining of your panties. 

The light in the room clicked on just as the door next to yours snapped shut. “Fuck me.” You hiked your duffle bag higher on your shoulder, took a deep breath and stepped inside.

Steve had already dropped his bag on the side of the bed closest to the door and shed the heavy jacket that shielded his toned physique from the world. He barely glanced at you as you entered but you knew his guard was still up, you doubted it had ever come down since what happened at the airport.

“You don’t have to wait up for me. No one else is staying here, the front desk guy said so himself.” You unzipped your bag. 

“It’s my job to look after you.” He retorted. You huffed and started pulling out your clothes in search of the singular bikini you had managed to obtain in your ‘travels’.

“Really? What’s your 401k look like?” Even without seeing it, you knew he was rolling his eyes at you. “Dammit.” You hissed as your fingers brushed the bottom of the bag, no trace of the thin material in sight. 

Steve turned from the desk where he had laid out a map of the area and raised an eyebrow at you. “I lost my swimsuit,” Your shoulders dropped in disappointment, “No hot tub for me I guess.” 

You shoved the empty bag and pile of clothes onto the floor before flopping down onto the bed. “This sucks.”

The desk chair creaked. “Just go in your underwear.”

Your head turned against the sheets, the thick cotton of the duvet brushing against your cheek. Steve was leaned forward, elbows planted firmly on his knees. Dark blue eyes stared right through you and suddenly, you couldn’t remember why you were upset. “Um, yeah I guess. But I don’t have any extra bras at the moment though.” You gestured to your discarded clothes.

Steve’s lip quirked up briefly before settling back into his now usual stern expression. “I’ll wash your stuff for you in the morning.” 

“Since when do you offer to do other people’s laundry?” Your hands slid up to rest beneath your head.

“I’ve been pushing all of you too hard. Maybe I want to start making it up to you.” He leaned back in the chair, the sheer mass of his seeming to grow as he rolled his broad shoulders. Unable to help yourself, you let your eyes trace the sharp muscles of his arms. It had been a long time since he was this relaxed in front of you.

“So maybe there is a bit of America’s Golden Boy still left in there.” He rolled his eyes and turned back to the desk.

“Go, before I change my mind.” You slinked off the bed with a smile. 

“Don’t wait up.” You cooed as the motel door shut behind you.

——————

The silence was a welcome friend. No cars or sirens, just the soft bubbling of the jets and your own happy groans as your body finally unwound. Steam billowed up from the water, disappearing into the night sky, brushing against the stars. The heat bled into your bones and it was all you could do to not melt.

You felt like you could wash away everything from this past year. 

You sank deeper into the water, the gentle ripples now brushed your neck, making you hum in satisfaction.

“Y/N, I was thinking that maybe I could grab some takeout from that 24 hour restaurant we passed a little while back, you hungry?” You lazily looked back over your shoulder just as Steve slipped past the high fence that enclosed the space. You watched as his gaze travelled from your body over to the pile of clothes on the deck, your panties and bra prominently displayed on top.

“Sure, I could eat.” You shrugged, swallowing down a smile at his now blank expression. Steve was frozen in place as the realisation dawned on him.

“Doll.” A shiver ran through you, that was definitely very new. A sudden confidence filled your veins as you watched his Adam's apple bob.

“Steven.” You turned around so that you were now kneeling on the bench, the water now barely covering your breasts. Blue eyes slowly trailed down from your face, following the droplets of water that clung to your skin. “Actually, now that I’m thinking about it, I don’t think I’m craving take out.”

The water lapped at your stomach as you sat up. Steve’s eyes immediately darted to your face as a deep blush crawled up his neck. “Doll, what is your underwear doing on the deck?” 

“I think that’s quite obvious Cap.” The muscles in his jaw rolled as his expression grew darker. Heat curled in your stomach. “I didn’t want to get them wet. Well, more wet than they already were.”

“It’s dangerous to be out here alone like this.” He took a tentative step towards you, the lock on the gate clicking shut. 

“Well then, it’s a good thing I have you here to protect me.” You sank back into the water, moving backwards until you could sit on the other side, giving yourself the perfect view of the super soldier. His jacket dropped first, then the ratty baseball cap that covered his darker hair. You bit your lip as his t-shirt followed.

There was a spattering of light hair across his chest, getting thicker and darker along his torso, until it disappeared beneath his pants. His hands interrupted your view but you wouldn’t complain, not when they were undoing his belt. You fought a moan as the button popped open and his fly was slowly drawn down. 

“You gonna join me Cap? The water is just perfect.” The dark material of his jeans slid down and you wondered if Commando was a better fitting title for the man. 

Steve smirked as he stepped into the tub. “I have to look out for you don’t I?” His hands grabbed at your wide hips and tugged you against his body effortlessly. “It is my job.”

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[katnissdoesnotfollowback]

Katniss not realizing it but post war her boobs get big after she has secure food for a extended period of time and Peeta is just like 🤤 over her but she’s oblivious to why

Okay I wanna know what kind of weight gain program you’re on, Anon. Because I’ve had small boobs my entire life and every time I gain weight, it’s literally everywhere except the boobs. I will have rolls on my back and jiggly arms long before my boobs get bigger. The only time they’ve grown is when I’m pregnant and eventually those puppies shrank back down. Didn’t realize you were signing up for kdnfb’s weekend tmi, did ya? So this is adjusted to that because I couldn’t push the “I believe” button on the more food equals bigger boobs train, but the idea is there. Rated M for shameless ogling and sensual content.

+++

They’re in the kitchen preparing dinner on a Monday evening, just like every other Monday since Peeta came home to Twelve. Peeta steps behind her to get to the sink, his hand brushing lightly over the small of her back as he goes, pinky dragging underneath the exposed waist of her pants as she leans forward to drop a pile of vegetables into the pot on the rear burner. His touch barely skims over the swell of her butt, and Katniss shivers slightly, but doesn’t think much of it. Ever since she told him “Real,” Peeta’s taken every chance, used every excuse in the book to touch her.

So all she does is roll her eyes and glance back at him. “Distracting me while I’m working over a hot stove?” Peeta simply grins at her and continues on with the dinner preparations.

On Tuesday, she draws a bath for herself, wanting to soak after a long, arduous day spent trekking through the woods and then trading her haul throughout town. She’s leaning over the tub to adjust the temperature of the water foaming out of the faucet, her body wrapped in nothing but her short cotton robe when she feels Peeta’s eyes on her.

Glancing back, she smirks at the sight of him, staring at her exposed legs and almost exposed butt. His toothbrush hangs limply in his mouth, his grip on it loosened, and his lips foam a little with toothpaste. And his eyes have that glazed over look they get when he’s a little turned on.

But she doesn’t think anything out of the ordinary has happened. Peeta has made no secret of the fact that he likes to look at her, drink her in, and he admitted to her once that he found her legs incredibly sexy. She hadn’t understood how legs could be sexy, but she’d accepted his statement as being true in his mind, at least.

“Care to join me?” she asks and splashes slightly at the water’s surface. Peeta spits out his toothpaste and wipes his mouth with a towel before stripping off his shirt.

On Wednesday, Peeta bakes too many cheese buns. Which means Katniss eats too many cheese buns. She snags one on her way out of the kitchen, after greeting Peeta when she returns from helping build one of the new houses in what used to be the Seam. Peeta calls a warning after her.

“Don’t burn your tongue on the cheese!”

She clamps the bread in her mouth as she strips out of her clothes and waits for the shower water to warm up. Then she scarfs it down in three bites before stepping into the shower, annoyed that she didn’t savor it enough to taste the cheese, let alone find out if it was still hot enough to burn her tongue.

She snares another two after her shower, while she and Peeta fix dinner to take over to Haymitch. Two more during dinner and one right before they head home.

“You know I hate wasting food,” she practically whines at Peeta when he smirks at her as she’s moaning around the still deliciously warm roll. Peeta warmed them in the oven before dinner and this one somehow maintained the perfect amount of heat.

She’s about had it with his arrogant look, his knowing just how easily he can turn her into a salivating mess for food. But then, as she’s washing dishes, he cups his hand on the curve of her butt and Katniss pauses. Glances over her shoulder and watches him as he caresses her, his blue eyes heated and fixed to where he’s touching her.

Then, still caressing the same spot, he bends his head to kiss along the side of her neck. Up to her ears where she expects him to whisper some pretty words, and instead all she gets is a deep rumbling, an almost tortured with desire moan as he pushes his hips into her other butt cheek.

Katniss turns off the water and it’s only much later that the dishes actually get washed.

Still, that’s not all that out of the ordinary either.

And when she wakes on Thursday morning to Peeta’s hands skimming over her bare skin, that’s not unusual. Not at all unusual for him to trail his fingers over her waist and hips and thighs as she lays on her back, he on his side, while they start the morning with long, lingering kisses.

Not at all unusual for them to greet the early morning birdsong outside their open window with their own softly sighing songs, the bed accompanying them with low creaking moans. And it’s not unusual, when Peeta comes first, that he slides from her and moves down between her legs, nipping and kissing and gripping at her thighs for several minutes before settling in to kiss her swollen, wet lips until she too sings softly in release.

Nor is it unusual on Friday evening when he slides his palms around her thighs and hoists her into the air before carrying her to bed, both of them laughing.

Or Saturday when they relax by the lake, and he starts caressing her ankles but eventually works his hand up beneath her dress, all the way to her thighs where he spends so much time caressing her that she’s the one who gets frustrated.

Peeta’s laughing and teasing her when she shrugs out of her dress, pushes him onto his back, and climbs on top of him. And Katniss still doesn’t think there’s anything unusual about the way he watches her body moving on top of his. Or the way his broad palms and clever fingers circle her waist to hold her steady, cling to her hips and guide her closer to her own spiraling release, then cup and grip her ass so she doesn’t stop moving until Peeta joins her with a shout.

And it’s not even that unusual when, after a short nap and a swim in the cool lake water, their kisses turn ravenous again. Only this time, Peeta kneels behind her on the blanket as he makes her sing with pleasure and follows her into bliss.

Even a lazy Sunday spent on the couch, Peeta’s left hand holding a book he reads out loud to her, his right hand tracing lazy patterns over her legs where they rest in his lap, is nothing to note. At least not beyond the fact that just a few years ago, this sort of domestic tranquility would’ve been a nearly impossible scene.

They wind up wrapped up in each other. Left winded and breathing hard on the rug, Katniss’s back and shoulders stinging with how vigorously they rubbed against the carpet while Peeta was inside her. His skin almost too slick for her to cling to when he hoists her up into his arms to carry her upstairs. She curls into his chest and almost falls asleep on the way upstairs, only to be awakened when they’re in the shower. Katniss sits on his lap and he bathes her, making her shiver when his touch feels like the tickling caress of flower petals on her inner thighs.

But then they fall asleep and wake up to make love again. Fall asleep naked after, and by the time they wake for good, stomachs growling for dinner, Katniss laments that they didn’t get their laundry done like they normally do on Sundays.

“We’ll have to make time tomorrow,” Peeta points out, looking not nearly chagrined enough over how they spent the day.

But that means that when she rises early to go into the woods on Monday morning, the only clean pants Katniss can find are an older pair. From after the first Games but before the Quell. She runs her hand sadly over the fabric cut and sewn by Cinna’s hands before finally stepping into them.

Only… she can’t get the pants up past her mid thigh. She tugs on the fabric and wriggles, pausing only when Peeta’s loud gait warns her he’s done in the bathroom.

Looking up at him in distress, she gives the pants another tug. “They don’t fit. How could they not fit?”

“Well,” Peeta says carefully, “If those are from before… you’ve gained some uh… some weight in certain areas.”

Katniss flushes and kicks aside the pants, moving to stand in front of the mirror and examine her shape.

“Where? I’m still scrawny,” she complains, cupping her still small breasts that the Capitol would probably still want to augment if they could get their hands on her body, or if they still existed.

Peeta steps up behind her, his breath shorter and faster than usual, his fingertips skimming over her thighs the same way he moves a frosting tip over a cake.

“Here,” he whispers and she shivers at the heat in his voice. Fingertips swirling up higher until he lifts her shirt with one hand and traces patterns over her belly, which she does notice looks slightly more plump than it used to. “Here.”

He kisses her temple and holds her gaze in the mirror while his hands cup her hips and his fingers dig into meaty flesh she hadn’t realized was thickening on her own body.

“Here,” he growls and he tugs her hips back, so that she can feel him thickening too, in desire as he thrusts slightly against her ass. “And here, Katniss, love.”

This time he’s moaning the words and then he shifts one hand to grip one cheek, an entire handful that he sinks his fingers into and kneads, like her body is now dough and he’s eager to shape her to his desires. But then it occurs to her… this new shape of hers already fits his desires.

Happy, healthy, hungry only for him and not food. She hasn’t had a hollow day in years. And as Peeta’s kisses and touches wander even more, she notes in the mirror all the places and ways she’s gained. She’s smiling when she turns her head to meet Peeta’s kisses with her lips, when she pushes her heavy hips back into his.

[novankenn]

Coco's Search for a WAIFU or The Purgatory of Jaune

= Six = (Master Chapter List)

Coco was tired, actually more akin to exhausted really. Child Loli Jaune had kept her up until the wee hours wanting attention from Momma Coco. It had almost been too much to handle. The cavity inducing sweetness combined with the extreme need for attention. She was however pleased that she had managed to do it, including getting Jaune to have a shower.

The sun was just starting to rise when Coco had checked the timer on her scroll. There were only a few hours left until Jaune reverted to his true male form. So she made preparations. Pulling a spare t-shirt from her handbag, she folded it and set it beside one of the large fluffy bath towels on the bed across from the one where Jaune slept.

Taking a seat on one of the other beds, she made the decision to stay until the very last minutes of Jaune's transformation. Just in case, the sweet little angel woke up beforehand.

/=/

Jaune awoke with a start in an empty dorm room that was not his team's. It was a couple seconds later that he realized he was completely nude. Blushing furiously, he scrambled about, only finding a fluffy white towel and a plain white t-shirt folded neatly on the bed across from the one he had been in.

The shirt barely fit, from being at least one size too small, and with nothing else he wrapped the towel about his waist. He had no idea what time it was, though by peaking out through the curtain covered windows he thought it was sometime after lunch. After making another search of the room, he found no trace of his scroll.

Jaune: That means I can't call Ren or someone to bring me clothes.

Jaune looked at the door. He was technically clothed, so there was no reason he couldn't make the trip back to his team's dorm. Of course, if no one was in the room, he'd be stuck outside until someone did return. He rubbed his face with his hand as he tried to think of a solution. It came to him in a flash of inspiration.

Jaune: Locker. I have a change of clothes there, and it's under a combination lock, so no need for my scroll!

Happy with his decision, he moved to the door, and poked his head outside. Seeing no one, he stepped out into the hall and made his way towards the locker room, all the while hoping no one would see him.

/=/

Coco was asleep as soon as her head hit her pillow, but that bliss didn't last long. Velvet, who had been out searching for her and Jaune since early in the morning, returned to CFVY's dorm. Sighting her target, the rabbit faunus made her move.

SMACK

Coco: (Grabbing her smarting behind and rolling off the bed) Ow!

Velvet: Good you're awake.

Coco: What the hell, Bun-Bun?

Velvet: Don't Bun-Bun me. What did you do to Jaune?

Coco: I did nothing!

Velvet: DO. NOT. GIVE. ME. THAT! One minute Jaune is... well Jaune and the next he's...

Coco: The sweetest, most adorable little girl you could ever imagine?

Velvet: (Crossing her arms over her chest) Yes... that.

Coco: I had nothing to...

Velvet: Coco... I was there. I saw the slime, and you told me when it would happen, so you are up to something... and I don't like it.

Coco fidgeted, trying to come up with some excuse that wouldn't see Velvet interfering in her true plan. But she was drawing a blank.

Velvet: I'm waiting.

Biting her lip, Coco struggled to come up with something. It was then like fate was intervening on her behalf, as the door opened and Fox walked in. Snatching the bag of test tubes that she had situated near her bed, Coco bolted.

Velvet: Coco!?!

By the time both Fox and Velvet recovered from the shock of seeing Coco just taking off, she was gone.

Velvet: Shit.

Fox: Do I want to know?

Velvet: Coco is up to something, and it involved Jaune.

Fox: Something? Can you be a little more specific?

Velvet: I wish I could.

/=/

Now fully dressed, and in possession of his scroll, which he found in his locker; he made his way to JNPR's dorm. He had seen the multiple messages from his team, and replied to each one, and now he was on his way to meet up with them to go to a late lunch in Vale. He was feeling good, well rested and calm for the first time in ages. It was almost like someone had been coddling him for most of the night.

An image of Coco popped into his mind, and he paused for a second before dismissing it. Rolling his shoulders, he moved forward, eager to reunite with his team and to get something good to eat.

Coco: Hey Arc!

Jaune turned to see the sunglasses wearing fashionista racing down the hallway towards him.

Jaune: Coco?

Coco: Catch!

Jaune fumbled as a small glass tube was flung at him, nearly catching the tube but causing the contents to ...

... and the glass tube to clink on the tiled floor.

Coco: Bulls-eye!

Jaune: Coco?!?

Coco didn't stop and just rushed past the still stunned Jaune.

Coco: See you in 30 minutes, sweet-cheeks!

Jaune: What?!?

[kelieah]

Tom taking care of a tired and frustrated you, like him cuddling u or showering u with kisses or practically babying you n eventually u fall asleep in his lap with your head in his neck n he carries u to bed, just very fluffy fluffy!! 💙

just us (tom holland x reader)

word count: 1.3k

warnings: fluuffff, mentions of sex, language, tom being a div

edited: kind of a shitty ending, and kinda rushed agh, sorry 

a/n: love this ideaaa, just going to somehow tie in the reader’s birthday into this hehe

tom holland masterlist

Last year, Tom planned a big birthday party for you, inviting your friends, his friends, coworkers, and family. It was crazy. Personally, you hated being in the spotlight so although you appreciated his efforts, you didn’t enjoy yourself as much as you wanted to. So this year, you’ve been trying hard to avoid the topic of plans for your birthday. You also really hoped no one would plan a surprise birthday party.

You wake up to the sight of Tom walking into your bedroom, with a stack of pancakes and a candle in the middle. His face is painted with excitement and warmth, and you couldn’t help but smile at the sight. “Happy birthday, sleepyhead,” he whispers and sits down next to you, leaning in to kiss your cheek.

You smile tiredly and look at the plate of food, tearing up at how cutely decorated it is. “Tommy,” you sniffle and pout at him.

“Oh, baby,” he laughs and places the plate aside, pulling you into his arms.

After he picked you up and brought you to the kitchen to eat breakfast, the two of you began to get ready for the day. You let out a quiet sigh as you smoothed down your dress against your body, your mind swirling with thoughts about whether or not you should be honest to Tom about the big parties and all.

“I heard that sigh,” you hear Tom come up from behind you and snake his arms around your waist. He rests his chin on your shoulder and glances at you in the mirror, “Are you okay?”

You nod and place your hands on top of his, swaying with him as he hugs you close. “Perfectly okay.”

“I’ve known you for how many years?” he asks rhetorically and raises an eyebrow for dramatic effect. Accepting your silence as an answer, he nods and confirms it himself, “Right, five years and you think I don’t know you well? I’m honestly offended love.”

“Shut up,” you groan and tilt your head back, looking up at him as he gazes down at you. “I’m just tired, that’s all.”

“I have a feeling I know what’s upsetting you,” he brings his hands down to your waist and squeezes it.

“Well, then what is it?” you huff.

“I actually didn’t know I was just bluffing to see if you’re really upset,” he admits sheepishly as you gape at him. “Now I know! Babe, what’s wrong?” he holds up his hands in defeat and lets go of you.

You grumble quietly at the loss of his touch and shrug, turning to face him. “I was joking. I’m just tired.”

“You slept for ten hours,” he points out.

You send him a glare, “Because you fucked me all day yesterday.”

“Valid point,” he nods and purses his lips, laughing as you groan loudly with frustration. He follows you as you rush off to your bedroom, “Darling, you know I’m only teasing. Come on, it’s your birthday. I want you to be able to do whatever you want to do. If you want to sleep all day, so be it.”

“Oh really?” you amuse and turn back around while plopping down onto your mattress.

“Yes, really,” he stands in front of you, holding out his hands for you to grasp.

Reluctantly, you hold his hands and look into his eyes, noticing how he is desperately trying to read you. “I’m sorry,” you bring your lips to the back of his hand. “I really am tired, but it’s no excuse to be a bitch.”

“You’re not being a bit—”

“In all honesty, I just really am not looking forward to having a big party.”

“Who said we’re doing that?” he interrupts causing you to give him a deadpanned stare.

“I know you well too. It’s not much of a surprise when I can hear you planning in the closet. You’re not that sly, Holland,” you feel a smirk grow onto your lips.

He scoffs, still trying to dismiss your accusations. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. Honey, if you don’t wanna have a big party or a party at all, we don’t have to. Like I said, we can do whatever you want. Even if you just want the entire to yourself, just let me know,” he lifts you up and pulls you close to him.

You eye him suspiciously and drape your arms over his shoulders, “So, you’re basically telling me now that there’s no big surprise party being prepared this minute?”

“Nope,” he smiles at you confidently and tucks a hair behind your ear. “Your day is free.”

You feel all the weights lift off your shoulder and you let out a quiet satisfied sigh. You lean your forehead against his chest and press your lips together. “I just want to spend the day with you and you only. Well, maybe a bunch of food too, but you know. Just us.”

“Yeah, I know,” he chuckles lightly and presses a long, tender kiss on the top of your head. “That sounds perfect, how about we go for lunch or order in. Watch some movies, maybe go to the park and when the sun settles, we could cook a meal together? Then maybe take a bath together, drink some wine, have some fun, and then sleep?” he plans out the rest of the day in one sentence and you tear up at the thought.

“That sounds absolutely perfect. Thank you,” you bring your head back up to meet his face and peck his lips.

“Always, I’ll go grab the keys?” he smiles and kisses you a bit longer, cupping the side of your face.

“Mhm, lemme go grab my coat and stuff.”

And you two did exactly what he planned, all the way to have some fun that results in the both of you not sleeping, yet.

“So much for a bath,” you stifle a laugh, sitting down on the side of the tub as your legs tremble from the previous activities.

He grins and goes down on his knees, wiping you dry. “Hey, nothing wrong with having the fun a little bit earlier.”

“Mm, true. But now I’m really tired,” you slip on the pajamas he hands you.

He puts on his boxers and laughs in response, “I bet. Wanna be carried to bed?” 

You nod eagerly and hold out your arms, “Yes, please.”

He kisses your forehead and swoops you up easily, bringing you towards the bed you both share. He places you down and slides in next to you, wrapping his arms around you to hold you close.

You shift around to get comfortable and soon drape your leg over his, your hand also resting on his bare chest. “Thank you, for today,” you murmur lazily, drawing gentle shapes into his skin. He hums quietly and caresses your skin as well, dragging his hand along your shoulders to your jaw.

“Always, just talk to me next time. Okay? Don’t want you wallowing in self-doubt and stuff,” he whispers and cups your face to kiss you all over repeatedly. 

You giggle and nod in agreement, then turning around to become the smaller spoon. He smiles and inhales your addicting scent, feeling himself becoming drowsy and tired. He eventually falls asleep and before you could, you hear his phone go off on your bedside, the light brightening up the room a bit. You sit up slightly to glance over and make sure it’s nothing important, but your jaw drops once you see the messages from Harrison.

‘How was your day mate?’

‘We were able to cancel the reservation and tell everyone who was invited about the last minute change of plans’

‘All of her gifts are at my place though.... so figure that out too lol’

‘Pretty sure your busy ;)’

‘But seriously text or call me back when you can div, the caterers just dropped off all the food that was ordered at my place’

‘It’s like a bloody mall in here’ 

You let out a quiet gasp as you read the messages and eventually slide back into Tom’s embrace, knowing damn well you were right from the very beginning.

inbox link under the cut! thanks for reading ツ

leave a comment, give me some feedback pls! it’s greatly appreciated mwah

tagging some mutuals! @sunsetholland @peterssweetpea @ptersmj @evermoreholland @marvelouspeterparker @supremethunda @emmastarz @parkerpeter2469-blog @felicityparkers @spideyspeaches @hollandcrush @ms-misery @msmarvelsmain @heavenlyholland @veryholland @greenorangevioletgrass @spidey-sophie

[tenseoyong]

k but the way you portray jaehyun made me wonder how would the first time with him play out? also, your work's amazing, have a great day 😽

jaehyun is rather confident and sure in his ability to take care of you for your first time. he is a bit of a soft dom; not too overbearing and showers you in praises and encouragements every time you make progress in your relationship. he super smug about being the one that had you first—and hopefully, last—and definitely walks a little taller the day after much to your embarrassment.

he’s always so gentle when he asks for affections. never making it seem like you can’t say ‘no’ to him. gentle eyes and that sweet dimple on display when he’s smiling, asking, “d’you think i can have a kiss, hm?” he’s good at reading your body language, so the day you actually give into him isn’t too much of a shock, he could tell you wanted to kiss him—and you did—and he’s all smiles, sweetly smoothing a hand over your hair in a soft pet, “ah, so cute~thank you~”

jaehyun’s pretty content with you slow pace; never trying to rush you or push you to go from a to be too quickly. he essentially leaves the ball in your court, letting you decide when sitting in his lap turns less than innocent. whispering soft encouragements while he’s guiding you as you grind yourself into his muscly thigh, “feels good, doesn’t it, baby? i know it does, it’s okay to like it. you can use daddy’s thigh, you wanna get off, don’t you? go on, use daddy~” he loves watching you slowly discover your own rhythm, curiously circling your hips this way or changing the pace, finding what feels the best for you while teasingly tensing his muscle beneath your warm core, sending a shock through you when he randomly bounces his leg. it’s all so precious and he’s pleased at being the first and only man to witness this special show.

jaehyun’s pretty bug of prep—he’s no small man—and he certainly doesn’t want to hurt his sweet virgin s/o if there’s a way to help. it’s more of an excuse to be able to spend a ridiculous amount of time eating you out because, “we gotta get you nice and wet, don’t we? mhm, nice and slick, so you can take my cock~” he’s a slow eater. soft, steady kitten licks through your damp folds and gently suckling your clit. wanting to wind you up by the pleasure building in you until you’re begging for him to do something. he particularly loves how much your hands flutter around, unsure what to do, bouncing between grabbing at your own breasts and hair, clutching at the sheets and burying them in his hair while you gasp and moan and whine for him.

he’s as slow and gentle with the final act as he’s been the whole time; jaehyun takes great care to not overwhelm you when he slips inside you for the first time. the initial sting of being stretched unlike ever before, he tries to distract you with sweet kisses and smoothing his warm hands over your hips and waist, trying to sooth the tense muscles as he bottoms out. for a while, he stays like this, buried to the hilt and kissing you, letting you get used to the foreign invasion before trying to move.

jaehyun is obviously a more dominant lover, but not necessarily rough and fast. he’s firm, his thrusts steady, hard, never failing to knock the air from your lungs—but not rough. barely pulling out more than an inch or two before sinking his length back into your tight warmth. it’s soft, and sweet, tender, loving. he catches your hands in his, intertwining your fingers while he bows over you, forehead pressed to yours while holding eye contact—all his adoration, respect and love for you burning behind his eyes. he finishes while mindlessly babbling about how perfect you feel, how perfect you take his cock, how much he loves you. low grunts and deep growls, muffled by your lips when his pace finally falters and he looses his rhythm, a new and foreign warmth filling you as he cums.

aftercare is as sweet as ever—jaehyun is a good dom, after all—he draws a nice bubble bath for the both of you to relax in with he cleans the both of you of the sweat and fluids, singing praises while smothering you in kisses.

[synthetickitsune]

ONEWE Reaction: Spicy performance with another idol

Yonghoon

He's very proud of you and knows it's a great opportunity for you to show off your skills, but at the same time he's jealous because only he should touch you like that

He gets possessive, and you know he gets like that occasionally, but in this particular case it's to the point you'll have to remind him of some boundaries

And when you do, he'll take a step back and feel really upset, guilty and angry with himself, because he knows it's just what your job requires and that you'd never betray his trust and yet he acts like this

Will whine and try to imitate the dance which is unfortunately way too hard for him to just learn easily, so he’ll get frustrated and pouty

Requires a lot of reassurance, both verbal and through physical contact

He will always have a hand around your waist or he'll be holding your hand or asking you to sit on his lap, but nothing more than that because he wants to see if you yourself get more affectionate with him

If you try teasing him by denying him affection, he will sulk and will be actually hurt

But because you love him and respect he can't control his emotions well at the moment, you cuddle with him and initiate more skinship than you usually would

If you ask him to leave some marks on you, like hickeys or something, even if they won’t be visible, he'll be over the moon and calm down a lot

He will often surprise you at practice and stay for a while with some lame excuse, or he’ll ask if can tag along that day 

Has to look away every time the other dancer touches your hips or you move in a suggestive way together because it’s already hard for him to control himself from stopping the practice

Overall he struggles a lot but still makes sure you know that he loves you, that he’s proud of you and supports you so much

He also relies on you to reassure him and handle him being a lot more sensitive 

If you're sore after practice, he will draw you a bath or give you a massage

After the performance is done, he showers you in praise and brags about you to everyone

But doesn't rewatch the performance as he still gets jealous

Harin

Your #1 hypeman, supports you all the way through, probably prepares a little celebration when you tell him the news like a little date at home with cake and coffee

Pretty chill about it, after all you're his and this could be a great step forward in your career - not to mention he’ll also get to enjoy your dancing

However, as soon as he sees you practice with your partner, he may become a little uncomfortable

He would say nothing about it but he's just a little too tense afterwards so you notice and confront him about it

He'd admit that it made him a little uneasy to see you dance like that with another man but that he knows it's just work and it doesn't mean anything

Becomes more affectionate, always holding you in some way and you lean into his touch every time to reassure him everything's fine between you

Low-key the type to be like "I must erase his touch" and then proceed to attack you with his love and touch all over your body so you remember his touch only

Might spray your clothes with his cologne to mark his territory

Another one to badly dance the choreo with you, but it's actually fun, which is lovely and all until you keep messing up and cracking up during the actual practices because you keep thinking about that dorky afternoon with Harin

When you complain to him about it, he acts super cocky but on the inside he’s actually melting that you enjoyed yourself so much - also feels reassured because it seems like you like dancing with him more than the other dude

Often reminds you how proud he is of you and praises your skills

May ask you to wear his clothes during practice, which you gladly do because you love stealing his clothes and it makes him feel better

Always makes sure you're not hurt and that you're taking breaks and keeping yourself hydrated enough

The loudest cheers during the actual performance, gets so into watching you he forgets to be jealous

Keeps bragging to the guys how talented you are

Kanghyun

Would tell you right away that although he supports you and wants you to do well, he doesn't like that another man will be so close to you and do suggestive stage with you

But that will be a one time thing and after that he doesn't mention it and it's almost like he's forgotten about it if it wasn't for the little things

Like how he always gets a little tense and moody when you're off to practice and how he's acting a little cold towards you for a while when you come back

And then he’s a little too clingy and especially affectionate which is rare for him otherwise, and he apologizes for being cold and whispers how much he loves you into your ear

Needs to hear some reassurance as well and appreciates if you text him throughout the day so he can see you're thinking about him

Even if he asks about how it’s going and listens to you, he never wants to hear much details about the routine and declines your invitations to watch the practice, knowing it would make him feel upset

He trusts you with his whole heart, but also wants to protect it so he tries to stay away from knowing more than is necessary about the performance

He makes sure you know he supports you though, and that he respects you as an artist and is proud of you

Sometimes he stops by the practice room to quickly drop off some water and snacks for you, maybe squeeze your hand quickly or give you a little peck and then he leaves before he can see anything

If you ever go through the steps by yourself at home though, he'll watch you dance and try to imagine what your partner's step look like and get irrationally jealous and maybe come to you and just back hug you and hold you for a while to chase the unpleasant images from his head

He will watch the stage when it happens, but only when you're both at home, cuddled on the couch and he holds you very close

His grip on you gets even tighter each time the choreo gets more suggestive, but in the end he showers you with praise and compliments

And finishes by saying he's glad it's over

Dongmyeong

Shooketh baby when he finds out - happy but too shocked to say anything at first, then he starts congratulating you

And then it hits him you’ve mentioned something about the performance being suggestive and he just freezes and you have to tell him that it’s fine and not to worry

Your #1 hypeman, supports you so much and keeps telling you he's proud of you

With enough reassurance, he’s the one most okay with you doing the performance out of all the boys

But also whiny that it's somebody else doing the stage with you, because he’s sure he could do well too even if it meant practicing all day every day

If something gets him feeling insecure, he might get a little scared you might like the other guy more or that you'll find you'd prefer to date someone from an idol group 

But he really just needs some extra cuddles and sweet nothings to make him feel better

Nonetheless, he trusts you and keeps hyping you up but once you show him the practice video, he reconsiders for a second before he reminds himself that it’s just your job

Gives you tons of praises and reassurance that you're the best performer he's ever seen and the performance will be a success

Also asks you to send him the vid and he tries to learn the choreo as best as he can so he's not "missing out on anything you do"

Sometimes comes to watch you practice but you promptly chase him off as soon as he starts showering you in praise because it makes you feel embarrassed in front of your dance partner

Holds you extra close at night

Needs more attention regardless of whether it’s long conversations, cuddles, quality time or sending each other memes

Still, sometimes he’ll just feel really down - even more so because he knows he has no reason to feel that way, he knows you love him and he feels loved, he’s just a little anxious when he’s in a bad mood

Once everything’s over, he’d really appreciate to just take a day off to spend alone with you, maybe going for a trip or just staying in and cuddling

CyA

He congratulates you and praises you when you tell him you’ll be doing the stage but secretly doesn’t like the concept of it

Jealous and protective, but tries to be lowkey about it - keyword: tries, but you let it slip because he’s cute

Keeps asking if your partner is treating you well and with the respect you deserve, then he makes sure you are comfortable with everything - from the stage itself to what you'll be wearing

Will watch you practice but only once because it makes him upset and a little insecure since he knows he doesn't have the skills to dance with you like that

Probably will try to "make up for it" by planning more date nights for you and always have a plan for something fun to do to spend some quality time to show you he's the best boyfriend

"Please don't forget about me 🥺"

Shy about the whole situation but you can see it's bothering him

A lot of conversations about the performance, about the way it makes him feel and how you feel

You end up analyzing the moves and everything too, like to the point even CyA feels pretty desensitized to it and calms down a little bit

But he's still jealous and clings to you a lot when you're home, he’s always close to you and has to have some sort of physical contact with you

Probably won't even allow the other members to hang out with you as much since he needs your attention all to himself

Might write a couple of super angsty songs just to vent all the feelings inside of him and then deny any connection to you doing the stage when you hear the songs weeks later when they’re finished

Needs a lot of affection and reassurance, maybe will even ask if you could message him more often during the day if you're not too busy

It will also get him to think about whether it would be possible to ever collaborate with either Onewe as whole or just him, even if it’s just for his soundcloud

[novamirmirsblog]

Stubborn

Genre: Fluff, hurt? a little angsty? Idk. you tell me ;)

Request: Yes

Word count: 1135

Warnings: Swearing, mention of drugs, injury, blood (I think that's it but lemme know if any more should be added)

This is the request: May i humbly request a Natasha x reader where R comes back from a mission all messed up and doesn’t want any help. R hides their injuries from the team but Natasha can see something is up. Later that evening, she tries to talk to R but they are stubborn and shouts they want to be left alone! Suddenly the reader starts coughing up blood due to internal bleeding and collapses. A worried Natasha screams for help while holding R. Feelings are confessed after R wakes up at hospital. Happy ending!

A/N: I hope this is what you wanted anon!

The mission had gone okay. It was a success for all intent and purposes and on paper, it looked like the perfect mission. Perhaps the paper should talk to your definitely bruised ribs and chest. Unfortunately, Stark's newest 'shock absorbent' fabric was more shock and less absorbent. You'd have to let him know that this was nowhere near the finished product he had promised. You'd do that tomorrow though. Right now, all you wanted to do was curl up in bed and sleep the pain off. When the medics came to check you over, you waved them away, saying that you'd had worse and a bottle of painkillers would do just fine. You were hoping to just slink in unnoticed, have an extremely hot shower, followed by an even hotter bath and then pass out on your bed.

This did not happen.

Bless your team, you really did love them but when Stark decided today would be the perfect day to throw a little 'Congrats on doing so well' party, you wanted to scream. The only saving grace was that it was just the team attending.

The adrenaline had slowly begun to wear off and as you watched Peter's mouth move incredibly fast about a topic you didn't have the strength to listen to, you suddenly felt very faint.

"Sorry Peter, I think I had a little too much to drink. I just need to get some air."

"Oh sure - I'm sorry y/n - I completely forgot - you must be so tired from your mission and-"

You patted his shoulder tiredly and moved away before he could draw you back in with another conversation. Little did you know that a certain redhead's eyes hadn't left you since you came in.

"and then that's when- Natasha are you even listening to me?"

"Yes. And that's when you saved the kitten from the tree. Now if you'll excuse me. I think I need some air."

"But I was talking about the time Morgan gave me a makeover." Tony sulked. The sulk was abruptly replaced with a smirk when he realised who else 'needed some air'.

When Natasha made her way to the balcony, you had your back turned to her and were coughing. Your coughing fit stopped and you pulled your hand away only to see tiny red spots.

"Shit."

"I didn't know my company was that undesirable y/l/n." Natasha made her way next to you, leaning against the railing.

"Tasha! How've you been?" You nudged her and tried to wipe the blood into your hand.

"I'm pretty sure I should be asking you that question. Did you even go to medical before coming here?"

"Umm yes? Maybe?" Natasha gave you a look "Okay, no. I didn't. But it's not even that bad okay? Just some minor bruising. It's not like the time I got shot!" Even as the words left your lips, you could feel yourself slowing down, moving your mouth just took too much effort. That's when you were sent into another coughing fit.

"Y/n, we are going to the medical bay right now." Natasha looped her arm around your waist and tried to ignore the warm feeling she got by being so close to you. Now wasn't the time.

"Get off me, Natasha." You pushed her away and leant on the wall. "I don't need your help. I'm perfectly fine. I just-" You shook your head quickly, trying to clear the fog that was infecting your brain. "I just need to sleep." Apparently, sleep came a lot quicker than you expected because your vision suddenly went black.

Natasha's heart dropped. She didn't know what to do. She caught you before you fell to the ground but after that, she was frozen. She snapped out of her fear-induced haze and shouted for help. She didn't care how she looked, she just needed you to be okay.

~~~~~

An annoying beeping woke you up. "5 more minutes and ugh, turn that light off."

A low chuckle rumbled out, indicating that you were not alone. "Detka, I can't turn off the sun." Although Natasha would have surely tried to.

"Tasha" You reached your hand out and slowly peeled your eyes open. "What happened."

That was the wrong thing to say because her face switched from being concerned to pissed off.

"You didn't go to medical when I told you to." Her voice was low and dangerous. You had never been afraid of Natasha but right now, you weren't so sure you were going to make it out unscathed.

"I really didn't think it was that bad..." You at least had the humility to look a little guilty.

"You had internal bleeding Y/n. How is that 'not that bad'?"

"Okay so maybe it was a little worse than I thought but you're not exactly one to talk." You were offended that she had the audacity to shout at you when you remember multiple occasions of her walking around with bullet wounds just because she wanted to have a shower instead of being fixed up.

Natasha scoffed. "That's different."

"How. How is that different Natasha? Do you think I like having to find out that you're bleeding out because you refuse to go and get stitched up?"

"It's different because I care about you."

"Wow. You're saying I don't care about you? News flash Natasha - you're one of a few who I actually trust and care about."

"That's not what I-" You cut her off

"No no. I'm glad we cleared this up."

"If you would just lis-"

"You know I really thought we had something special Tash. Nice to know our movie nights were meaningless."

"THAT'S THE THING! Our movie nights weren't meaningless. They just meant more to me than they did to you. I came straight back from missions just to see your face Y/n. I didn't want to go to medical because I wanted to get to you as fast as possible. When you fell to the floor I realised I had to tell you. I've been sitting on this for far too long and today made me realise that. The thing is Y/n, I like you. Like a lot. So much that when I think of my future you're the only thing in it."

"I-" You didn't know what to say. The painkillers they gave you were pretty strong and words weren't being your friend at the moment. "I really like you too."

Natasha's lips reached yours and the kiss was slow and gentle, almost as if you were both afraid that if it was too passionate, it would break.

"I would really like to continue this but I'm on so many drugs Snoop would be jealous."

Natasha kissed your head "We'll continue this when you've come down off your high then."

[doubledgesword-2]

Hello lovely! How pe you’re having a nice weekend!💕

I saw that your requests are open and I was wondering if I could request a head cannon or Drabble of adult trip with a blind darling??

Hope you have a nice day!💕✨

Aww yeeesh! I did have a lovely day and a nice weekend, thank you so much! Here's your nice cup of Rose tea hon, enjoy it!

WARNING TOOTH ROTTING FLUFF AND A LIL BIT OF OOC! ENJOY!

Chrollo

Whether you were born like this or you had an accident that took your sight, it doesn't matter; Chrollo would do everything for you.

And when I say everything, I mean every little thing, from guiding you around the room to bathing you or showering with you to help. 

"Chrollo, I can do it; you don't have to worry" you chuckle nervously as his hand gently scrub your arm; you feel his fingers gently rub the soap on your shoulder, and you're hoping he can't see you blush. 

"Hush, dear, and let me love you" he kisses your shoulder, and you shudder at the feeling of his warm lips against your skin. 

When you casually ask how the clouds look like or what color is the ocean, or what color are the trees this time of the year, his eyes tear up a bit. He looks at you with a drunk love look and a warm smile.

 You're so perfect for him, because him being a romantic, this is the perfect time to be poetic. 

He will find an object that's very soft and very fluffy in texture; his hand will take yours and slowly drag it through the material so you can feel every single fiber of it. 

"That's how clouds are like, love. This time of year, the trees are red, and that's like cinnamon, and the ocean is blue, and aqua and those are like salty blueberries." 

"Ewww!" You laughed, and he chuckled, still holding your hand in his. This moment was a real treasure for him.  

"May I see how You look like?" He immediately tears up. This boi is low key the most sentimental in situations like these ones. He can't help but be overwhelmed. Sure he's a thief, but he's a humble one, albeit unfair on occasions but never with you. 

Chrollo takes your hands and places them on his cheek. Your fingers feel so soft on his skin, almost like you're afraid to damage him. They glide over his nose, feeling how it arches, over his eyebrows and his eyelids. 

Then they pass over the cross on his forehead into his hair, caressing it until your arms are looped around his neck and you hug him close, your ear on his chest listening to his racing heartbeat. 

"You have a strong heart" You can't see how his cheeks are tinted pink or how his breathing has picked up because, dammit, you're amazing at getting these kinds of reactions out of him. 

He will read to you, even though you have learned Braille. He wants you to be drunk on his voice and the passionate way he makes the story's impressions. 

No one, and I mean no one, is allowed to begin a demeaning sentence towards you or some comment about your blindness that makes you uncomfortable. He will shut them up with one look and the flare of his aura.  

When you guys go out, he insists on guiding you even though sometimes you have held him back before a car could run him over because he was too focused on taking care of you. He didn't see the vehicle coming. Ironic. 

"That was a close one, don't you think?" He kissed the crown of your head, holding you close as the two of you kept walking to your destination. "Now, do you believe I can take care of myself?"

"We'll see," he chuckles. 

Illumi 

Your encounter with Illumi is always a tale to tell. 

You see, you were at a coffee shop, drinking your favorite drink and eating a nice treat/pastry when he passed you by dropping one of his pins in the process. He had been so tired and beat that he didn't even notice. First one right there. 

"Excuse me, sir," You bend over and felt for the big round top of the pin until your fingers grasped it and held it tight, minding the other pointy side. "You dropped this" Illumi doesn't say anything in acknowledgment. He simply extends his hand to you. 

But you are not giving him the pin, and this annoys him so much. Then his eyes look up to yours. They are blueish but glazed over and almost white. You're blind. Illumi reaches for your hand, startling you for a quick second, but he picks the pin and lets go. 

"Is this seat taken?" He asks suddenly, and you smile towards his voice.

"Go right ahead." 

That day Illumi was so intrigued by you that he couldn't help but stalk you a bit, you know, for research purposes in case he ever finds an opponent like you. 

But it turns into so much more.

 He meets you every day he can, no matter where he goes with you. He makes no effort to help you, though, and don't expect him to do so. He appreciates you too much, and in his mind, you're like a wild cardinal, and if he were to help you, it's like putting you in a cage. Once he lets you free again, you won't know how to survive on your own. 

He wants you free. He loves you free. 

But that doesn't mean he won't be there for you or step in when circumstances are far too grave for you to handle. 

"Llumi, how does the sky look today?" 

"Gray. It's going to rain" his response makes you chuckle; you have never seen gray, but his honesty makes you smile. You outgrew your frustrations about this situation a long time ago. 

"Can we stay to feel the rain? I want to smell the petrichor once it's over" Illumi looks at you with the same expression he gives everyone. He knows you might catch a cold standing in the rain; he doesn't understand why all you said would be relevant. But then he reminds himself, he has taken for granted all of these things because he can see them. 

"Only a couple of minutes once its starts. If it gets bad, we'll go inside. You can smell the petrichor afterward" he holds your hand, and you two sit there on the park bench. 

Illumi doesn't get cuddly or lovey-dovey with you. Still, he will allow himself moments where he can't help but admire you and be grateful for having you in his life. He will never say that. Ever. But he'll think it.

One time he entered your apartment and found you sitting on the rug in the living room, reading Braile. 

"Illumi is so nice to hear you today. How was your day?" He's always impressed by your ability to sense him. When he asked once how you could recognize him if he was so quiet, you said you could feel his presence in the room since it was calming to you even when he tried to conceal himself. This melted his heart. 

"What are you reading" He came to sit on the sofa, his legs brushing your arms like a loving gesture. Your hand grabbed his leg, squeezing him in recognition, and then went back to the book. 

"Would you like me to read it to you?"

"Yes," It was a lovely evening that day. 

Just like Chrollo, he's very protective of you since his line work makes him kind of famous, some people are bound to have seen you and try to get to you to get to him, and this is where Illumi draws the line. 

Rest assured, no one will touch a single hair on your head if he has his way. The beginning of his bloodlust alone is enough to make everyone panic and turn away.

"Illumi, hon is alright, I'm here, I'm right here. Look at me" you would open the curtain of his luscious hair to hold his face and make him look at you. "I'm fine, see?" 

"They are not worth it," he says after holding you close to him. He'll kill them later. 

Hisoka 

This little shit will always be a little shit, in this case, a loving and understanding one, but still, the point remains. 

You bumped into him on the streets, and the minute it happened, it annoyed him so much. He was in the process of turning and giving you your dues when he noticed you had actually stopped and been grabbing his wrist. 

"I apologize, I'm so sorry" you're not looking at him, and that annoys him even further. 

That's until he notices your vacant look and your body language. You may not be looking at him, but your whole body is poised to listen. Listen to him. 

"Are you blind?" He blurts out but not really; his smirk says it was intentional.

"All my life, sir," you chuckle, letting his wrist go and leaning a bit on your white cane. 

This makes him giggle, and he invites you for a coffee if you're available.

The rest after that marks your relationship. 

Hisoka behaves like a child whenever he's around you. He hides his presence to try and scare you, but you can always sense him. You can even imagine him pouting as you find him and poke him with your cane. 

"Not fair, little fruit." 

"You smell like bubble gum, hon," you chuckle, bringing him down to kiss his cheek. 

He holds you close and loves when you let yourself go and depend on him a little.

 Lke him cooking for you, doing some chores around the house (He doesn't have to, and you tell him that, but he just says you'll have to reward him later), and the two of you baking together—with him covering you in flour as much as he can without you noticing.

"Soka, I know my cheeks and forehead are white; you are a terrible boyfriend, love."

"Mmmmm, so mean, (Y/N)-chan" He kissed you as he puts more flour on your nose. 

Hisoka knows he has to leave for extended periods since he can't stay put in one place plus his job. But will always call you and answer your phone calls no matter if he's fighting with someone at the moment.

 "My precious darling, I *grunts* I'm in the middle of breaking someone's arm at the moment *huffs* can I call you later, love?" You cringe at the sound of the bone-breaking over the phone but chuckle slightly at his antics.

"Yes, you can, Be safe" oh, oh, oh he loves your concern for him. It just makes him moan obscenely in the middle of the fight, making his opponent disgruntled and allowing him to finish them off.

"On second thought, dear, we can talk right now. I'm currently free." 

He will bring you stuff from his travels and jobs, all with different textures and pleasant smells so you can experience them. 

Now this, this is the moment of truth. While you're distracted touching everything he brought, he takes away his texture surprise. Suddenly he lifts your hand to touch his hair, then his face and arms. 

"How does this one feels, mmm?" He hides the fact that he's nervous by being playful, but you can feel him being stiff. 

"It feels soft," then your fingers gingerly brush a big scar over his chest "it feels like no matter what, I love you. Like you can trust me with each one of these" 

He won't admit it, but it's nice that you can't tease him for his blushing cheeks and aghast expression. But he chuckles to alleviate the lump in his throat as he takes your hands in his and pulls you in for a hug. 

When the two of you go out, he's always holding your hand, or you're holding his arm. He has convinced you to not use your white cane while walking with him. He'll be your eyes. 

The moment someone bumps into you…

"Hey, watch where you're going, woman!" 

"Oh, so, so sorry, sir," you apologize, and Hisoka is smiling at the man. 

"Yeah, you better be" 

"Little fruit, do you want to know how fluttering butterflies feel?" As he says so, your face is tickled by a lot of fluttering little wings, and the experience mutes the man's screaming as he Hisoka gently drags you away. 

[hotwings0203]

A/N: Hi guys! This is my first oneshot thingy (or any piece) that I’m posting here, it’s kind of dark but I think that’s the type of fic I enjoy writing. Let me know what you all think, and any suggestions or feedback is much appreciated since this is the first time I’m using Tumblr😆

Warnings: implication of non-con, manipulation, yandere themes, kidnapping

Pairing: Yandere Dabi x f reader

Smoke curled into your hiding place, invading your senses. You could hear him smashing other various household items around the house, attempting to startle you and make a sound, effectively revealing your hiding place

Which wasn’t a very clever one, mind you.

If you only had a couple more seconds, maybe, just maybe you could’ve dove into the closet and actually hidden with some blankets and clothes covering you instead of your current chosen position, which was under the creaky bed.

You cursed yourself for even starting something so stupid, and getting a rise out of him in the first place when you knew, you knew he hated it when you picked fights over the smallest of things. All he wanted you to do was make him some breakfast, now was that so much to ask for? Did you have to put rat poison in his oatmeal at 10 am in the morning?

You didn’t think you could handle playing this happy-go-lucky fake domestic scene any further; you wanted to go home. You wanted to see your family again for Thanksgiving, you wanted to meet up with your friends and get your nails done and coo over pretty boys, and most of all you wanted to go outside and gaze up at the clear blue sky and just watch the fall colors swirl around you in a halo of leaves.

Dabi let’s you go outside twice every month if you’re being good for him, and if you really please him he’ll let you touch the grass without that stupid shock collar that adorns your neck like an ornament with with him by your side, of course. Don’t think he’ll fully trust you after that stunt you pulled last week when you tried chewing the restraints off your wrists.

He had to salute your effort though, you really might’ve gotten away if he hadn’t surrounded you by his flames before you could touch the door.

Kind of like now, actually. While you’re trembling and cramped unceremoniously under the bed, he’s finished scanning the living room and kitchen for any sign of you.

Shit

That means there’s only two places left: the bathroom and his room, where you are.

Your legs are starting to cramp up and you’re wondering how long you can manage to stay still while this psycho is hounding you out.

“If you quit acting like a pussy and come out within 30 seconds, I’ll make sure to leave your face intact. Can’t say the same about the rest of you though, babe, I’m not feeling very generous or inclined to spare you too much after choking down rat poison.” He all but snarls as you can see from underneath the bed his elbows and jaw curl with smoke, blue flames licking at his shins.

The smell of rotting flesh feels like an ominous foreshadowing of your fate if you don’t think of a way out of this, fast.

You’re pulled from your musing as Dabi slams the bathroom closet door shut, and flings the shower curtain aside violently, indicating no more places are left for him to check for you except his room.

You’re out of time.

Picking up the soap dispenser on the sink counter, he weighs it in his hand, testing it’s material. You’re peeking out from underneath the mattress, unsure of what he’s doing.

You don’t need to keep wondering after he suddenly hurls the glass down on the floor, the dispenser shattering on the floor near the bed mere inches away from where your face was.

You let out a small shriek at the explosion, and immediately still and clamp your hand over your mouth with wide eyes.

But the damage has already been done, and Dabi knows this as he lets out a dark chuckle and saunters towards the bed, turning around and plopping down on the plushy material, his boots right in front of your face.

“We both already know where this is going, little mouse. I caught you, but I’ll be nice and give you one more chance to come to me willingly.”

He leans back on his elbows and tilts his head up to the chafing ceiling. He knows you’ll come, you always eventually do, that’s why he loves you, his sweet little girl who always does what she’s told.

What he doesn’t expect, however, is you making one last break for it, clambering out from the opposite side of where you both are situated and bolting to the door.

He whips his head around at the sound of you desperately fumbling with the lock on the door, when did he lock it? God this is taking too long he’s gonna catch you he’s gonna-

But you’re already out of the door and flying down the hallway as you hear him leaping off the bed and scrambling after you, the house completely silent save for the deafening sounds of both of your own objectives pounding away at the floor in the same direction.

“You fucking bitch, I grant you one last chance to come clean to me and this is the thanks I get? You’re dead little mouse.” You hear him howl behind you, and it scares you at how close he sounds.

But now you see it, you see your freedom at the entrance just an arms length away and you’re touching the door and-

The room is suddenly enveloped by blue fire, the door handle becoming so hot under your touch that you wail as you let go and cradle your bubbling flesh, tears blurring your vision as you whirl around to locate your assailant and captor.

Dabi stands in the middle of the living room, ethereal cobalt lighting up the sides of his face and illuminating the staples that stretch and threaten to rip from the shit-eating grin he sports while looking at your defenseless demeanor.

“I told you to listen while I was playing nice, right? This is what happens to little mice who want to turn into rats so bad. Is that why you wanted to feed me rat poison, huh, baby? You were warning me to get rid of what you might turn out to be, hmm?” He pouts at you, the corners of his mouth twitching when you sob in terror

“D-dabi please,” you bawl, “please let me leave. I w- wanna go h-home.” Your chest heaves at the last word, the pain in your hand paling in comparison to the ache in your chest.

“An-and I w-want you on your kn-knees worshipping the ground I walk on and making good use of that bitchy little mouth instead of whining and sniveling.” He mocked and cooed cruelly, reveling at your helplessness.

You could do nothing but wail louder as he started slowly walking towards you, his eyes narrowed, complemented with dark glint in his pupils while his ever-lasting hellish quirk enunciated his heavy steps.

Dabi finally reached you, and you pathetically pressed yourself into the wall and turned your face as he lifted his hand and stroked your cheek in faux sympathy. His bottom lip was stuck out in a fake pout, mimicking your state of panic.

“You’re not scared of me, right baby? It’s just a game, right? I mean after all I do for you-bathe, feed, and dress you- you only feel love for me, right?”

He was toying with you, in a similar fashion a cat plays with its prey before it pounces.

When you hesitated for a moment too long, his hand by your face heated up its dying embers, warning you to give him what he wanted to hear.

You whimpered and tried to evade his hand, only resulting in his gripping the back of your head and yanking back on your hair roughly so you were forced to look up and meet his amused, dark gaze.

“Ah-ah my pretty bitch. You don’t get to move away from me after all the stunts you pulled today. I’ve had enough of your bullshit so don’t test me any more, now I asked you a question: you love me right?”

At your wits end, you maintained eye contact with him as you shakily tried to nod your head, the movement being difficult to do as he had such a death-grip on your locks.

But he wasn’t satisfied by your pathetic attempt at agreeing, it seemed like he wanted to make your life hell even further and draw this out as long as he could because he clicked his tongue and shook your head like a rag doll in his hands, hair flying across your face and giving you whiplash.

“Use that sharp tongue you got on you before I melt your fucking teeth. You might be a grade-A moron, and a pathetic one at that but I know damn well you’re not mute.” He leans in further, his nose grazing yours as you almost went cross eyed trying to keep him in vision.

“Y-yes Dabi, I love you.”

His silence seemed to scream unimpressed, so you hurried to salvage the situation as best as you could so it wouldn’t escalate the knee-deep shit you were already in.

“And I’m...sorry I was being such a brat today, I just missed everyone I used to be close with. But you were right, I should be more grateful after everything you do for me. It’s not fair that I don’t treat you with the same, uh, affection that you show me. A-and I’m sorry I put... rat poison in your food.” You whispered this last part, too embarrassed to look him in the eyes.

He snorted, not entirely convinced at your sincerity in the apology but it was enough for him to loosen his grip on your head and take a step back from your personal space.

You sink down the wall to your knees, curling up slightly and taking shaky breaths as you attempt to calm down. The room is still engulfed in flames, but thanks to Dabi’s foresight and extensive planning, most of the furniture of fire-proof (god knows how he got it like that, it’s not like he was the son of the number one hero or anything to accumulate such wealth) so the damage was limited save for your mental state and injured hand.

Dabi crouches down in front of you, an odd smirk on his face as you peer up at him in caution.

“You know, I didn’t say I forgive you princess, or that you’re excused for your little tantrum.”

He cocks his head at you and lifts your chin up towards him with a scarred finger. You blanch at the implication of this ordeal not being over from your excruciating apology, and his disturbing Cheshire-cat grin stretches so wide over his face, you wonder distantly if his stitches are going to pop loose any second.

“Please, I’m sorry. I’ll do anything, just please don’t...please don’t burn me.” You whisper in defeat.

“Anything, you say? But why? Isn’t it more fun if I brand my name into your back? Oh wait! Maybe I’ll burn you so bad you’ll look like me! Then we’ll really be a matching couple, you’d like that wouldn’t you? I mean if you love me as much as you claim you’ll let me, right?”

He’s trapped you again. If you deny, he’ll ruthlessly berate you for lying to his face and who knows what he’ll do just for the sick, sadistic satisfaction he’ll get from making you stumble over your own lie.

If you comply, however, you’ll look like burnt bacon, just like this fucker.

“I’ll do anything to make you forgive me.” You quietly settle for.

He studies you for a moment, and the uncomfortably silence he grants you makes you shift in your place.

Dabi finally stands to his full height and stretches his arms back with a content groan.

“If that’s the case, then don’t say I didn’t let you choose how you wanted to make it up to me.”

You glance up when you hear the sound of a zipper being undone, and you mouth gapes at his innuendo. You can’t seem to look away as he frees himself from his black boxers, the sound of his belt and pants rustling as they hit the floor.

“Now then, what was that you said about redemption? I think this is a great way to put that mouth to good use, little mouse.”

[miastideclock]

“REM” Bang Chan Drabble

anon asked:

Hi, there! I hope you’re having a good day/night. I’ve been having serious Chan feels lately, so can I please request something where Chan comforts his s/o who is having nightmares/night terrors and makes them feel safe? It can be a scenario or a Drabble, whichever you see fit. Thank you so much in advance!

Hi babe, i don’t know if this is exactly what you had in mind, but i got an idea and i ran with it lmaoo :) 

Word count: 3k Warnings: Fem!Reader (i mention certain features of the reader, and i am so sorry if it doesn’t match yours!! I try to keep it as description-free as i can, but sometimes it just happens, you know?), Gets kinda graphic and a tad bit disgusting. (Blood, gore, etc.)

“I don’t get it. Frank Tupelo is actually Alexander Pearce? But-” You started staring at the screen that showed the end credits of the horribly confusing movie you just watched. Chan was sat next to you none the wiser. 

“But he pretended- why would he, hold up.” Chan started, but cut himself off countless times. To be honest, the only reason you watched the movie in the first place was because Johnny Depp was one of the main character, and he has a tendency to make every movie great.

(Justice for Johnny Depp, I said what I said.)

“Whatever, I’m going to bed. You coming?” Your boyfriend asked as he got to his feet, ready to leave the living room and ascend the staircase connecting to your bedroom. You nodded, letting him know you would be up in a few minutes. However, that was a lie. 

The past few nights you had been having these awful nightmares, making you shake yourself awake. Every single time you did, you were scared you had woken your boyfriend up. Up until now, you had been in the clear, but last night, he was just about to stir awake, but then just scratched his chest and the turned around, remaining fast asleep. That’s when you decided you would be sleeping in the living room until the dreams calmed down. Just because you couldn’t sleep, didn’t mean your boyfriend had to go through the same. 

You cleaned off the table after removing the empty bowl of popcorn and the two glasses. After making sure Chan was unsuspecting, and had fallen asleep, you went upstairs and got ready for bed. Pajamas, brushing your teeth, washing your face, all that jazz. You then made your way back downstairs with a blanket from the closet and grabbed a book as well. That way you could place the book next to you and make Chan believe you fell asleep while doing some late night reading.

After getting comfortable on the soft couch, you hesitantly closed your eyes, waiting for sleep to consume you. 

Running. You didn’t know where, but the gut-wrenching feeling washing over you told you to book it, to get as far away as you could. Looking behind you, you saw nothing but darkness, the same thing that was in front of you, as well as at your sides.  A searing pain suddenly wrapped itself around your legs, making you snap your eyes down to see what on earth was going on. Barbed wire could be seen snaking its way up your legs, digging it’s thorns into your legs, drawing blood long ago. Skin started peeling back, revealing muscle tissue and bone. You wanted to scream out in pain, but as you went to open your mouth, you felt the same searing pain. Your hands flew to your mouth, only to feel twine had sown your lips shut.  A whisper surrounded you. You couldn’t hear exactly what the voice spoke, but you could hear it clear as day at the same time. It drove you crazy.  “This is what he feels.” The voice finally said so you could understand it. Your eyes furrowed together as you tried to understand what he meant, as well as trying to stop the barbed wire from making its way further up your legs.  “This is what he feels.” The voice repeated. The frustration grew too big, making you tear open your mouth, the twine snapping.  “What are you talking about?” You cried. The barbed wire was at your hips at this point, continuing to dig into your skin, blood pouring out of your wounds. “Chan. This is what he feels when he is with you. In pain- you’re holding him back, and it kills him.” You desperately looked around you to find the source of the voice, but to no avail. “No! He loves me!” You cried out, battling the wire that was now cutting up your arms. “He loves me.” You were quieter this time, more unsure. The smallest moment of uncertainty was enough for the barbed wire to get the upper hand, now strangling your neck, making it impossible for you to breathe as tears and blood streamed down your cheeks. You became more and more dizzy before you finally gave in. 

In panic you sat up, looking around, your breath heavy. You had woken up, now back in your living room, no longer in your own personal hell. It took you a few moments to regain your breath, but you finally did. You were drenched in sweat, the large shirt you had stolen from Chan was now sticking to your back, rather than hanging loosely off it. 

You got to your feet and went to the kitchen, needing a glass of water. The digital clock on the oven flashed red as it informed you it was almost seven in the morning. You let out a breath of relief as you realized you didn’t have to go back to sleep. 

After chugging the icy water, you snuck back upstairs and into your bath, turning on the shower. While you waited for it to heat up, you walked over to the mirror, about to grab your hairbrush when your reflection caught your eye. Your throat was red and irritated, having a single scratch down below your ear. You reached up to touch it, and that was when you saw the red irritation marks matched your fingers exactly. You had probably tried to get the barbed wire off in your sleep, rather than just dreaming it. 

Something kinda similar had happened a few weeks ago when you had shook Chan’s hand in your sleep, dreaming you were greeting the prime minister of New Zealand. It had been funny at the time, but now it kind of concerned you. You could only imagine what Chan would do if he saw you like this. Good think you had slept on the couch. 

You proceeded to get ready for the day, opting for a fashionable turtleneck after getting out of the shower and drying off. Turtlenecks weren’t unusual for you to wear, so when Chan finally woke up and saw you at the kitchen table in the black sweater and slip-dress over it, he just complimented your style, rather than asking about it.

“What are your plans for the day?” You asked him after kissing him good-morning. He grabbed some of the grapes you had on your plate of fruit in front of you, and popped one into his mouth before replying. “I don’t know. I thought maybe we could have lunch with Felix and Hyunjin? Thoughts?” He looked at you before taking another grabe in his mouth. You gleefully nodded as you loved to hang out with the boys. They always had the craziest stories, and they loved telling you about their new projects and how their album was coming along. 

However, what you hadn’t taken into account was your lack of proper sleep, and hanging out with the boys craved energy like nothing else. 

So lunchtime finally rolled around, and you found yourself at a café, actively sipping your third coffee today. And at this point it was only eleven thirty. 

“You had to be there- it was crazy! I’m still shocked that no one ended up at the ER.” Felix cackled as he told you yet another of his crazy stories, the two other boys chuckling alongside with him. You tried your absolute best to fake a good laugh, and you could see that Felix and Hyunjin didn’t suspect a thing. But unlucky for you, your boyfriend wasn’t as easy to fool. You sat there for a little while longer before Chan suddenly excused himself as his phone rang. Or at least he said it did, you couldn’t really see his screen. 

“So, Y/n, Chan tells us you’ve been getting really into home projects and such lately?” Felix asked you as he took a bite of his croissant. You nodded along, telling the two boys about your latest project. “Fixing the door sounded fairly easy, so I thought I could do that to kinda ease myself into the world of carpentry and DIYs, but holy cow was I wrong. I have been working on the door upstairs, the one into the laundry-room, you know the one? Yeah, and well, my toolbox have been sitting next to a heavily broken door on the floor for like three days now. Every time I start, I get even more pissed and have to take a breather.” You chuckled, trying to plaster on a mask of enthusiasm and humor.

You loved the boys to death, but you just didn’t have the energy to spare today. They applauded you, resulting in you bowing slightly. Hyunjin asked a few questions about a doorknob he had issues with at his own place, to which you gave him some tips. 

“Sorry about that.” Your boyfriend suddenly returned to the table. “But Y/n and I have to get going. Our neighbour just called and said she thought she heard a tap running, so we gotta go get that. But it was nice catching up!” Chan let them know, making you get to your feet and grab your purse, scared your place might’ve already flooded. You gave the two boys both a kiss on the cheek as you bid them goodbye, you and Chan soon making your way out of the café. 

“Was it Linda who called, or Mrs. Oh?” You asked, trying to place which tap it might have been they heard. Chan soon grabbed your hand and slowed you down, letting you know there was no rush. “What are you doing, we gotta get home!” You grew confused.

“There was no phone-call you moron. I saw you were tired and needed a break. We can catch up with them some other time.” He spoke with a smirk on his face, making your jaw drop as well as the corner of your lips tug upwards. You  thanked him and fell into his pace, you giving his hand a squeeze. While still having your fingers intertwined, you took your free hand and wrapped it around the same arm you were holding with your other, your head leaning against his shoulder as you walked at a slow pace. 

The warm breeze kissed your exposed legs, gently brushing your hair out of your face. The sun was high in the sky as it was only noon, people and cars rushing past you, trying to make meetings on time, running errands. 

“Did you even get to bed last night?” Chan asked you quietly, not needing to speak up anymore as you were resting your head on his shoulder. You told him you fell asleep on the couch reading. “Ahh, that makes sense. It’s a good couch, but not the best place to try to get some proper sleep.” He understood. 

The rest of the day was pretty chill, and before you knew it, it was night time. Soft music was playing on the radio as you entered the bathroom where Chan was already standing, fresh out of the shower, only a pair of joggers on him. He was just finishing up putting on shaving cream on his face when you walked over to him, wrapping your arms around his waist. “Hey baby girl.” He grinned as you hung around him. You hummed a reply before letting go of him, letting him raise the razor to his face. 

You brushed your hair and washed your face, but made sure to take your time. You didn’t want to change out of your turtleneck until Chan was gone. When he finally did you hurriedly changed into the same t-shirt you had slept in the night prior, only that it had been washed since its last use. You looked in the mirror and saw that the irritation from this morning had calmed down immensely, only a few scratches being visible. You positioned your hair over your shoulders so the marks would be hidden, at least for the small time you would have to expose yourself to your boyfriend. 

“Hey babe, I’ll be downstairs for a while. I’m not really tired yet, so I’ll just watch a movie or something.” You said as you kissed Chan’s cheek. He was already sitting in bed, his back against the headboard as he scrolled through his phone. “Oh why didn’t you just say so? I’ll come with you.” He smiled and was about to put away his phone, but you stopped him.

“Babe, you have a long day at work tomorrow, you need your sleep. I’ll come back up in no-time, okay?” You assured him. He let you know that he didn’t have work in the morning, but you still convinced him to just go to sleep.

The couch was as comfortable as ever when you finally made your way downstairs with the same blanket from the night before. As soon as your head hit the couch pillows, the memories of your last nightmare flooded your mind, making your breath hitch. You quickly jolted up into a sitting position, taking a few deep breath. You soon tried to lower yourself back down, this time counting the panels of the ceiling, trying to distract yourself as you drifted off to sleep. 

3:39 am 

A muffled scream was heard from downstairs, causing Chan to abruptly wake up. His first instinct was to look over to your side of the bed, his heart dropping when he didn’t see you there. He let his hands ruffle the sheet, looking for you. More rustling noises snapped his attention to the door. Slowly and quietly, Chan made it out of bed, grabbing the handle of the door. He twisted it and quickly opened it, stopping it from making any creaking noises. He then made it into the hallway, trying to listen for sounds downstairs, but it had quieted down. He looked around for a weapon he could attack the intruder with, his eyes landing on your toolbox from the other day. As he grabbed the hammer, he sprinted downstairs, hammer raised above his head, ready to fight off any murderer.

Chan felt his whole body relax when he saw you safe and sound on the couch, no sign of a thief. However, the sigh of relief wasn't something he got the luxury of enjoying as he soon saw you in distress. Tossing and turning and scratching at your neck in such severity that you had drawn the smallest amount of blood.

He placed the hammer on the floor and made his way over to you, grabbing your hands to stop you from hurting yourself anymore. “Y/n!” Chan called out, trying to get you to wake up. After the combination of crying out your name and shaking your shoulder, you finally jolted out of the nightmare you felt so trapped in. You jumped up in a sitting stance, fighting for your breath, tears streaming down your face. 

“Hey, hey- babe. Shh, I’m here. I’m here, love.” Chan spoke instantly, letting you know you were safe. Once you saw you were no longer in danger you fell into his bare chest, sobbing. 

He softly hummed as he protectively wrapped his arms around you, letting you cry out all that you needed. A few minutes passed before you finally calmed down. 

“I’m so sorry I woke you up.” You finally whispered after silence came over you. Chan pulled away from you and gave you a look.

“Are you crazy? Are you actually apologizing right now?” He asked in shock. “I don’t care that you woke me up. All I care about is that you are safe. Okay?” He made sure to look you in the eye and really let you know he meant every single word. 

“Okay. I just didn’t want to be a burden, I figured sleeping on the couch until the nightmares stopped would be the best of both worlds, but I guess not.” You sighed as you fell back into his chest. 

“So you didn’t actually fall asleep reading the other day? Or watch a movie last night?” Chan asked, to which you only hummed, it being a bit too hard to audibly admit you lied to him. 

“Well, since we’re both awake anyways.” Chan stated before letting you go and making his way to the kitchen throwing some popcorn into the microwave. You knew exactly where this was going, so you quickly went upstairs and took a shower as well as getting into another of the many shirts you had stolen from Chan, walking back down. 

The smell of popcorn didn’t surprise you as you had heard him start to pop it before you went upstairs, what did surprise you was what he had down to the living-room while you were gone. Candles on the coffee table, next to wine glasses filled with capri-sun. He had gotten your pillows and quilts from the bedroom and made the couch comfortable. The netflix logo was prominent on the large telly, as Chan patted the seat next to him.

“Bub, you didn’t have to all this!” You gushed as you got under the covers next to him. You cuddled up into his side as he placed his arm around you, kissing the top of your head as you did so. 

“I will never be able to sleep, knowing you won’t sleep well, so we might as well.” He smiled looking down at you, soon switching his attention to the plethora of movies the streaming service. You sighed happily and turned your attention to the same thing. You ended up picking a stupid-looking movie, making fun of the characters as the plot escalated. 

Chan made a comment about the main character that would one hundred-percent have made you laugh, so when you didn’t he looked down at you, a smile slapping across his face when he saw the sight. You were sleeping, soft snoring being the only sound you made. Seeing you peaceful was enough for Chan to turn off the movie and adjust the two of you so you were sleeping on his chest, slowly raising and falling with every breath he took. That way he too could soundly sleep, knowing you were safe.

this shit took me two fucking days. this is usually done in like a few hours- bUT NOOOO I HAD TO GET INVESTED. whatever. I hope you liked it! Feel free to request again!

-Bentley

[bangtan-dreamland]

all i wanna do (is grow old with you)

Pairing: ot7 x gn!reader (a drabble for each member)

Word Count: 3430

Warnings: no warnings needed! this is basically just feel good u.u

Rating: pg

Genre: fluff fluff fluff

Summary: a small collection of moments in the domestic bliss you and him held.

AN: dropping this here for no reason other than to say yes I am alive strong power thank you

»»————-　♡　————-««

playfights are something that you always have to be on watch for with seokjin, with how mischievous he is. and at this moment, washing your dog, you are ever more on guard. or maybe not, because while you continue on lathering your dog's dirty fur, you suddenly feel a blob of something wet on your head. your hair, to be specific. you can feel the soap slide down like a boat would fall down a waterfall, you flash a glare at seokjin, who's suddenly looking all too nervous, eyes blinking fast, but the smile on his lips giving him away as the guilty apprehender. 'it was the dog!' he cries out, and you almost lunge at him- while he jumps away from you. 

'seokjin! get back here!'

'i'm innocent!' 

'no you're not, that was the worst excuse i've ever heard!' 

you both end up running around the garden, soap trailing behind your figures and bubbles behind you, laughter ringing out in the air as you try, again and again, to catch him. it's almost infuriating how your lover uses his longer legs to keep a healthy distance between the two of you. when you finally corner him, you're both out of breath, and the water has made your clothes cling on too tight to your bodies, but you haven't grinned or smiled or laughed as hard in a while, and the mirroring look on your lover's face makes you think it's worth it.

'it was an accident,' he insists. 'the dog threw it, not me.'

you can't even refute the ridiculousness of that statement. oh wait. you can. 'jin, the dog doesn't even know how to throw the soap! and definitely not on my hair!'

a look of pure incredulity shows on his face, pout appearing and eyes blinking fast as if it will help give him credibility, the dork. 'well, that's what it wants you to think.' he concurs with a mockingly offended, quite overly dramatic tone, complete with a vivid shaking of the head. 'but i saw differently!'

'don't you believe your husband?'

you burst out laughing, all over again, for some reason you can't even explain, your heart sosososo full of love. 'god, why am i even in love with you?'

(the two of you do clean up the garden afterwards though, the plants and furniture drowned while you weren't looking- not to mention you have to give the dog a bath all over again, as it rolled around in the dirt while the two of you were busy playing tag. 

seokjin, for his part, is completely unrepentant. you should be stricter, but...

well. at least he made you cookies afterwards.)

»»————-　♡　————-««

it's an hour after three when yoongi comes home, tired, drowsy figure almost collapsing on the sofa as he yawns. he almost falls asleep when you flick the lights back on, watching with no small amount of glee and (some) frustration as the man startles, almost falling off said furniture.

'you really have got to stop staying up until it's almost daytime,' you chide him, walking over to tug him up and off of the sofa, sighing as you card fingers through his matted locks. he looks up at you with the poutiest expression ever, and you steel yourself to not give in with the sheer amount of cute that has congregated to make the person named min yoongi in your arms. instead you amble with him up the stairs, the two of you making for a pair of sleepy, exhausted lovebirds. you'll have to put in first floor  bedrooms when you look for a house together, this happens one too many times already.

when you reach your shared bedroom, you push him into the shower, the water already heated up, while you take out a pair of pajamas.

drying his hair, when the both of you are prone to nodding off, is a herculean chore. still, it's not as if you're okay with wet hair on your pillow, and you know that's an easy way to get sick the next day for him. 'you were in your studio again, weren't you?' you grumble, although you're pretty sure he's fallen asleep already and you're talking to no one. yoongi, for all that he is there to take care of others, is surprisingly receptive to affection when left without a choice. 'i had to,' he surprisingly says, stubborn, but with a sigh, his tone quiet but firm. 'inspiration struck'. and you can't even argue against that, knowing full well how a muse is to her artist. so instead you settle for drawing him close, close, close, muttering softly.

'maybe i should ask if they can add a bedroom to the studio.' you feel him smile against your skin, voice close enough to murmur in your ears. 

'you know i'll only ever get to really sleep when i'm beside you.' 

you scoff. 'you and i both know that's not true.'

warmth against your skin, an arm over yours, and a leg intertwined, soft hair tickling your cheeks, and you feel as if you could head off as it is, but no. he has the audacity to speak up again.

'you are my most melodious lullaby, the sweetest good morning, the link between my dreams and reality. if you aren't there when i sleep and when i awake, then how do i know you aren't just something i've been dreaming for? that you’re actually real, and right beside me?' he presses a kiss against your skin, and, god, that smooth ass jerk, you refuse to look at him at all.

(you both wake up late that morning, and you find you can't complain in the end anyway. even though he always ends up staying up far too late, at least, you know this, you and him will always be each other’s first view in the morning.

not a dream, indeed.)

»»————-　♡　————-««

'come on, love, dance with me!' you grin widely as you surprise hoseok, holding his hand captive in yours, the feather duster falling from his hands as you slide in front of him, tiptoeing to place a kiss on his cheeks. 

he splutters, 'i thought we were supposed to be cleaning,' he raises an eyebrow at you, but you only nuzzle your nose against his, clutching onto him with a pout. there is a standoff with the two of you ending up staring at each other with all the fondness you can feel inside you, one that you end up winning when he places a kiss on the crown of your head.

'dusting can wait,' you insist. 'we're both already filthy anyway!' he feels the laughter bubble up inside him, the helplessly fond smile he has reserved for you and you only showing. but you're not lying, the attic room has been a mess the whole day and one afternoon will not transform it instantly. which is why, rather, standing in the middle of the not-so-crowded-anymore room, the sunlight beaming down from the window and the radio playing out an old love song, you find yourself more inclined to drop what you're supposed to be doing, in favor of spending a few minutes to indulge. 

'your parents will get angry,' he points out, and you hum as you place your hand with his, his arm settling across your waist. this is far from what he normally dances, sharp moves and fluid spins becoming slow and sweet, the usual awe-inducing performance making way for intimacy in that private way, where the two of you are in your own world, closed off from the others. in this moment, you think that's not that far off from the truth. 

'they won't mind,' you shake your head. 'and we can just take a bath afterwards.' he leads you in a sort of glide, across the room, the melody turning and twirling you around, heart beating in both of your chests in a steady, steady rate, each in time with the music. and when he ends the dance, you in his arms, both of you slightly breathless, staring into each other's eyes, you find yourself wondering not for the first time if your lover is not warmth itself reincarnated, for how else can you explain away the feeling of being awash in sunlight, not a single part of you left untouched?

(what was supposed to take only a few days turns into a week and then some, but you can't feel regret for a single moment as the attic becomes filled up with memories you already cherish, a secret hideaway for the two of you.)

»»————-　♡　————-««

'namjoon, come sit down on the grass with me,' you call out, pout on your face as you beckon your lover to come on over. han river remains sparkling no matter whether daytime or nighttime, the waters reflecting the city's beauty, and you are not the only admirer. still, there is something to be said about the way your lover looks as he falls into his thoughts. the two of you made plans to have a picnic here in the park, as the setting sun made itself known across the sky, but it's less of a romantic escapade than it is a moment of peace, a brief respite in your hectic lives. 

'we should have brought a blanket,' he finally says, but you interlace your hand with his, your fingers with his own, tugging him down. he easily complies for all that he complains, and you don't think even he can deny how the grass feels under you. staring up at the dimming sky, blue and red bleeding into gold and purple, the stars beginning to peek through the curtains of night, you find yourself drifting away, the lull of the city dragging you to rest.

'what do you think of the multi-universe theory?' you hear him ask. namjoon is looking up at the sky, and there is a familiar expression on his face that tells you he is thinking about the secrets of the universe yet again, of the human nature and how each and everyone is connected. it's when he looks a little dazed, eyes focused on something beyond, a wistful tone in his voice, and he falls quiet, but when he speaks his thoughts there is always a 'what if?'. 'i wonder if we'd met in other universes too,' he says simply. 

you laugh, gently. 'kim namjoon, if you are saying that there is a universe in which i see you and fail to love you, then let me reassure you now.' he looks away, a pout barely surfacing on his face, and you turn towards him, hands clasped together and your hair spread below you, the two of you picture perfect. 'maybe that universe does exist. maybe in another space and time, i wouldn't have the blessing that i have here, to love you as freely, as much as i can. but this isn't that universe, and nothing will stop me from staying by your side.'

by the end of it, your head is turned away with embarrassment, unable to take what might be his reaction. when you hear him huff, quiet, you turn around. what greets you is namjoon, blushing. 'what would i do without you?' he smiles, soft and sheepish and loving, and you roll your eyes, even as you feel yourself become something not unlike putty in this man's hands, a wave of love crashing over the sandcastle that is you. 'let's hope we never find out.'

(you spend hours in that park, talking about everything and anything, and when you go home it must be close to midnight. not that you regret it, though, when the two of you clumsily almost topple over each other, collapsing on your sofa, together, while you order takeout for the nth time because you're both too tired to cook.)

»»————-　♡　————-««

you don't think much of it, stealing jimin's clothes is as normal, as easy as that for you. the two of you practically share the other's now, a constant mismatch between your closet as what is yours and what is his is blurred, the lines toed and crossed over every time that it's simply easier to count your closets as one being rather than two.

still, it makes for a messy, uncoordinated space, and it easily slips from your mind, or his, of the whereabouts of your belongings.

'babe,' you can hear the pout in his voice. 'did you see my hoodie?' 'which hoodie?' 'my favorite one!' 'which favorite one?' at this point you see his head pop out from the doorframe, prominent lips stuck out and eyes searching the room. 'it's the green one, the soft, huge, green hoodie. that one.'

you stifle a rising amount of chuckles as you eventually realize the location of the hoodie in question- on your body, as you stole it from his closet just this morning. you don't think you can be seen as guilty though, not when the hoodie itself seemed to be begging for someone to wear it. impossibly soft, impossibly huge and impossibly sweet-smelling from the laundry softener you used, it was easy to drown in it and comfortably doze off. 'sorry baby, i don't know where it went.' 'okay, but, babe, can you help me...'

you startle as you surprisingly feel the shadow of your lover on your body, handsome face so suddenly, so dangerously close to your own, even if upside down. 'yn, you had it all this time!' you chuckle at the whine in his voice, even as he leans forward to try and tug it off you. 'give it now,' he says, but you shake your head, giggling as jimin tries. 'raise your arms! i can't believe you made me run around looking for this,' he grumbles, but you cross your arms instead, sitting up, turning around to face him, preparing yourself for a fight. 

'no way, this is the softest hoodie in the house. i'm not giving it up.'

a moment of silence, and then- jimin attacks you, lunging forward to glomp you. you feel yourself become confused, when you feel his fingers around your sides, and you burst out into laughter, long and loud. 

'no, jimin!' 

'give it back!' 

'no way!' 

'then suffer under my wrath!'

(he only stops when tears actually appear at the corner of your eyes from laughing too hard, easily sprawling across your chest, the two of you on the floor and too tired to move. 'we can share,' you hum, choking as your lover narrows his eyes at you, before decidedly burrowing under your hoodie as well. with how big it is, and how not big both of you are, you surprisingly fit with him inside. it's too warm for two people inside, but as jimin lays his head comfortably across your chest, the thumping of your heart lulling him to rest, and he holds you in his arms, neither of you find you can argue against your positions.)

»»————-　♡　————-««

waking up with taehyung in the morning is an ordeal that never fails to make you smile. warmth pooling across the sheets, the warm breeze drafting in from the window, your lover's body wrapped around yours- there is a kind of holy in the way serene mornings like these are, quiet and golden, the world seemingly stopping for a moment, if only for the two of you.

it breaks your heart every time to have to shatter the illusion. 'taehyung', you whisper. there's not even a twitch in his movements, snoring quiet but steady as he continues off to slumber. you, however, can't get out of his hold, not without the man releasing you anyway- you would know, you've tried so many times before and it's always been a moot point. the only way to get out of taehyung's grip, is to wake him up into doing so. still, you find yourself soft and hesitant, every single time. 'taehyung,' you try again, a little louder this time. you shake him, and it takes you a solid minute or two for the man to actually make a sound, a low groan at the back of his throat. when he registers the situation at hand, though, your lover declines to release you, holding you captive with his embrace instead.

'stay in bed with me,' he almost whines, and you press your lips together to stop yourself from bursting into giggles.

'you know i can't do that,' you rebutt. 'i have work in an hour!' 

'but i can't sleep without you.'

'you big baby,' you fondly, exasperatedly call him out, and you see him briefly crack his eyes open, if only to look at you with a pout. 

you see him struggle whether or not to protest your words, before the sleepy takes over and he lazily agrees, pulling you closer in return. 'mhm, i'm your baby...' 

'taehyung...' 

'just a few more minutes, i swear,' he presses a light kiss on your forehead, and you know it's not just your imagination that you feel him smile against your skin, when you sigh loudly, relenting to his demands. 

'you're incorrigible,' you whine as you bury your head in his chest. 

'only because i love you.' 

you would call it a laugh if it weren't for the yawn that sneaks in at the end.

and just as easy as that do you both fall off back to sleep, your phone's alarm scaring the hell out of you half an hour later. it was practically a given that you'd end up falling back to sleep with him really, you could say it was a ritual at this point.

(you end up being late to work, as a matter of fact, but you can't even find it in yourself to be angry. after all, there is quite nothing like waking up together in the morning, especially with your lover.

he takes you out on a date to the amusement park that weekend too, so you suppose you can forgive him.)

»»————-　♡　————-««

'jungkook,' you muffle your laughter behind your hand, but there's no denying the bright grin on your face as you feel your lover's arms encircle your waist. bright and early, it's early enough into the morning that the sky is still caught between the hues of red and pink, like a rose slowly blooming from night's embrace. it's what makes your lover's apparent waking state a mystery, when you know how heavy your lover sleeps. there goes your plan to bring him breakfast in bed, huh? 

'what are you even doing?' you receive no reply, not one in words anyway, as you hear him mutter something unintelligible into your shoulders. his warmth against your back is addicting, especially in the chill of the morning air, but you're nothing if not determined, and if he's here to drag you back to bed, you're having none of it. 'if you're sleepy,' you start, turning around to hug him properly, jungkook's face nuzzling into your neck afterwards. 'you should go back to bed.' 'but you're not there with me,' you finally hear him say. 'just go back to cooking, i'll just stay here...'

'jungkook, i can't cook while you're wrapped around me!' you almost burst into laughter at that, what more at the earnest expression on your lover. 'why not?' he grumbles, a pout appearing on his face. you don't know whether to shake your head, or what- when your lover uses what he knows is his greatest weapon against you. 'don't give me that look,' you sigh, but your resolve crumbles quickly, and it's obvious that jungkook can see it as well.

'don't blame me if it turns out burnt,'  you finally sigh. you feel, rather than hear him chuckle briefly. 'i'm sure it will still be delicious.' 'you say that no matter what i cook,' you mutter under your breath and he stays quiet because you're right. instead, you finally feel him disentangle from your, rather reluctantly, before he gets his own apron and gloves. 'then i guess we should just cook together then,' he declares, bumping shoulders with you. 'can't mess it up then, can we?' he smirks, cocky and familiar, and you roll your eyes even as you feel yourself settle so easily by his side, the two of you finishing breakfast together.

(the food, amazingly enough, does not become burnt, and turns out well instead. of course, he did help you after all. still, sitting at the table, eating together, you smile easy, softly. how can you not? everything about this moment is perfect, and you wouldn't have any qualms about it lasting forever.

judging by the smile on jungkook's face, you aren't the only one to feel this way, too.)

[bts-hyperfixation]

Mine - kinktober - day 18

Jimin X reader

Yandere warning

I do not condone the behaviour of Jimin in this fic it is purely fictional. Is this is not for you please check out the other kinktober fics I have, none of the other 17 are yandere related

F!masturbation f!oral

It is the first time in a long time you and all of your friends have managed to get away. Six of you had rented a three-bedroom villa in Cyprus. Roommates had been decided long before the trip had even begun

“I get to stay with Y/N” Jimin had called as soon as the reservation had been booked. You laughed at his eagerness. The two of you had been best friends for the longest time it had seemed like the obvious choice, but it was nice to have the reassurance. You had met Jimin while you were in high school, the two of you had attended different institutions but somehow you’d kept bumping into him – at sporting events he’d be there, randomly in town he’d be there, at the most obscure parties he’d be there sipping a drink eyes meeting yours whenever you walked in the room. You’d always joked that fate just wouldn’t let you not be friends. Actually, before you truly became friends you had attempted to make a move on him. Beyond drunk in some football players back garden, you clumsily dropped hints and tried to kiss him. Instead of taking advantage he just took you home. After that, your friendship was solidified. You never really broached the way you’d acted that night. It was buried deep in the rich history of your relationship.

Once settled in the villa, the six of you were lounging around the pool trying to decide what to do that night.

“We could go for a meal? Couple of cocktails? Nothing big we did just get here” someone suggested.

“Oh come, we should definitely go crazy, lets go skinny dipping on the beach” another proposed. Jimin’s gaze fell to you waiting to see how you’d react to the suggestion. He wanted nothing more than to see you naked, but he didn’t want others prying eyes to see you that way. You should be his… only his.

“How about we go half crazy half chill and go clubbing?” your idea coming as a happy medium, the group nods in agreement. You and the other two girls in your group rush to shower and prepare, readying yourself for selfie upon selfie in beach themed clubs. The guys however hang back soaking in the remaining rays before spending considerably less time preparing for the evening.

Once on the clubbing strip it doesn’t take you long to lose most of the group. You make plans to meet back at the taxi rank at 1am and everyone is gone, the boys running in the direction of the bar offering the cheapest beer, the girls into the bar with the hottest guys. You glance along the line of bars and decide on the one in the middle after seeing a girl walk out with the fanciest cocktail you’d ever seen.

You make your way to the bar and order the fruitiest drink on the menu before making yourself comfortable on a barstool to wait. This bar seems to be relatively quiet in comparison to some of the others. It also provides a nice vantage point for you to watch the world go by, occasionally seeing your friends go with it. Not normally one to stray without at least one friend around it makes a nice change of pace. When your drink arrives, you find yourself chatting with the charming bartender in between his customers. He tells you all about what the locals get up to when the tourists disappear. They have huge beach bonfires with tons of food and drink that go on well into the next morning. He even invites you to the next one they were planning a week from now, just before you leave. The two of you are chatting for hours, you get through six of those cocktails before you even realise you are drunk. Its well passed 1am when Jimin finds you still sat there.

“Y/N” the worry is evident on his face as he approaches you “We were so worried why weren’t you at the meet up point? Why didn’t you answer your phone” you glance at the long abandoned electronic.

“I’m sorry Chim I didn’t realise” your words slur slightly, and you can see the anger flash behind his eyes. You mistake it for anger at you for not keeping your promise. You hop down from your perch on the stool and lose your footing. Jimin catches you before you fall and keeps his arm secured around you. He starts to lead you away but not before you can give the bartender your number. Jimin delivers you to the rest of your friends before heading back into the bar, claiming to need the bathroom.

He marches up to the bar seething

“How could you let her get like that” he spits at the guy you had been talking to.

“Dude she’s a big girl, she can handle herself” he just shrugs it off and turns to go back to other customers but the singer isn’t finished.

“You don’t know her like that! You should’ve just left her alone. She doesn’t need a pretty boy like you in her life” the other man is at least half a foot taller than Jimin and twice as broad, but he doesn’t care. All he can think about is how careless he had been letting you out of his sight, letting someone else flirt with what was his. Luckily, the bartender just scoffs and rolls his eyes.

“Look she didn’t tell me she had a boyfriend, ill back off it’s all good” he puts his hands up in surrender and Jimin accepts, if only because it will start to look suspicious if he is away too long. That and he has already been away from you long.

The next few days are filled with uneventful beach days and house parties. You were gutted that the cute guy hadn’t texted but moved on regardless. Today the boys were supposed to go off and play golf or something, honestly you had kind of zoned out when they started talking, thinking of all the things you could do when you finally had your bedroom alone for a few hours. Of course, it was great sharing with your best friend, but there are certain itches you were unable to scratch with someone else in the room.

You waited until they had been gone for a while before excusing yourself and drawing a bath in the ensuite in your room. You sink into the water and allow the heat to loosen your muscles. Your music is blaring through your headphones to block out the other girls having a water fight downstairs. You stretch one leg over the bath to give yourself better access and start to imagine all the dirty things you would have done to that bartender given the chance. It’s not long until your thoughts drift to the friend you swear you only thought of platonically.

The boys return from their trip earlier than planned, the golf course was closed for the day, so they had gone for lunch instead. Jimin headed straight upstairs, assuming you’d be outside with the others. The sight he is greeted with makes him immediately hard. You’d left the bathroom door open, enjoying the breeze from the AC mixing with the steam from the water. The sounds tumbling from your lips were sinful. Jimin’s hand move almost involuntarily to his bulge, palming himself through the thin material of his board shorts. Moans that mimic yours pour out of his mouth, getting so loud you can hear them through your music. You cease your motions, but Jimin is so caught up in the thought of you he doesn’t notice until you scream.

“Jimin!” you shout throwing a shampoo bottle at his head as punishment for perving. But he doesn’t leave. In fact, he comes straight in and replaces your hand with his own. You are so shocked by the daring action your convinced it’s a dream. That you’ve fallen asleep in the tub fantasizing about him, and it manifested in your unconscious mind. That is until you realise even your brain couldn’t make you feel this good. His thumb rubbed expertly at your clit as two of his fingers explored your hole, curling in just the right ways. His eyes never once leave yours, daring you to ask him to stop. You don’t think you could if you wanted to, your mouth too busy moaning at every thrust of his hand.

Your orgasm comes quickly with the new assistance, and as you come down you really take in the situation.

“Jimin…” you start but your cut off as he lunges forward lips on yours. The kiss is desperate, almost like there’s something to prove. You return the passion, emotions from that drunk night many years ago resurfacing. He pulls away breathing heavily, unwilling to take his hands off your body. The body you are suddenly aware is naked, as if he didn’t have his hand on your most private area just moments ago. The blood rushes to your cheeks as you bite at your lip, unsure of where to go from here. You opt to go with whatever he chooses to do next. He feels around a pulls the plug out of the tub before bringing forward a fluffy white towel and wrapping it around you.

He carries you from the bathroom and places you on the small sofa in the corner of your shared room, before kneeling in front of you and looking at you like an eager puppy waiting for a walk. His hands trail up your thighs and you open them for him. He takes in the sight of your puffy lips, as if committing them to memory. Then with little hesitation his head surges between your legs, lapping hungrily at your sex, lewd whines leaving his mouth in time to the sounds being drawn from your own lips.

“This should be mine, all mine.” The vibrations of his voice only add to your pleasure “If you needed help you should’ve told me. This all I’ve wanted since I first saw you, all I’ve worked towards” the words don’t fully register in your blissed-out state “I want…. to please you… for you to need me… for you to be mine.” He punctuates each sentence with kitten licks to your pussy. Three fingers have now worked their way inside you and your struggling to focus on his confession, all you know is this feels right.

“Yours... all yours” you pant out, caught up in what you think must just be a kink that he has. For the second time he has you cumming, this time all over his tongue. The noises that escape him would make anyone think he was the one mid orgasm, and they wouldn’t be wrong. Finally having your juices coat his tastebuds proved too much for Jimin as he rocked his hips to create fiction, releasing in his shorts seconds after you clenched around his tongue

Kinktober

Masterlist

Taglist

@adventuresinwonderlust @thedarkwinterrose @samros95

[mimiplaysgames]

Terraqua Week Day 5 (Mischief)

Summary: Aqua doesn’t have a crush on Terra. She doesn’t. Okay, she does. Or, Terra accidentally walks in on her in the shower. || Word Count: 3,476

Read on AO3

A/N: @terraquaweek I should mention a tiny little warning that there is a reference to nudity in this fic! It’s not described, so it’s totally T-rated but in case that is something you wanted to know. :) This is the shortest fic in the bunch, something cute and fun. The shower scene was a deleted scene in my Terraquanort fic, but I found that it just didn’t fit with the mood at all haha

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

nah.

Accidents don’t often happen to Aqua.

Ha.

Aqua swings her Keyblade upward. The force juggles golden rings assigned for training, usually tied to a pole for a bounce back. The Master mentioned some interesting techniques the other day in class: style changes, or the ability to enhance your power after a string of emotional attacks deep in the heat of battle, when you’re forced to rely on your heart to pull you out of a tough situation. Terra is sure to be developing new tricks, too.

There’s two months left until the Mark of Mastery. Letting the rings loose is a handicap Aqua places on herself: they’re heavy, resisting her magic to bounce in the air. This way, they should mimic what it’d feel like to fight a powerful enemy. She practices her pirouettes, and her waves of magic attempt to buoy them in the air in a violent tornado, but her spell flounders, a small push by a child in a playground. She adds a waltz step, a flip to give it a good kick, but it’s not enough. The rings crash back onto the grass. 

Aqua grunts and goes for the kill—but she twists her ankle at the crevice of a rock, landing on her knee.

“Stars,” she curses, wincing. Her knee is scraped, a hole ripped through her stocking, and her ankle aches. Stars. She casts Heal on her knee to soothe the sting and the gentlest summon of Ice to counter the swelling in her ankle. She tries to stand on it but can’t, so she casts more rounds of Heal and Ice spells until her leg can at least bear her weight.

Aqua limps to the castle through the back entrance, where the communal showers are. Showerheads, each with its own white curtain, are built on one side and sinks on the other in a wide open space. It’s part of a long hallway that connects to one of the gyms and a storage room down a corner. The floor is lilac concrete tile and drains, where it gives way to marble when you enter the castle proper. 

There was a time when the castle housed enough students to justify the size of this room, but Aqua is grateful she has direct access instead of having to drag this stupid ankle up a tower to her bedroom.

She shrugs off her sweaty, dirt-ridden clothes and shoes, and throws them in one corner, picking a shower that already houses soap, careful to put all her weight on one foot. The curtain draws around her in a u-shape and she turns the hot water knob, the pipes whistling as the water gushes through.

It gently scalds her at first but Aqua sighs when she gets used to it, rolling her shoulders and lifting her elbow over her head to stretch. The heat is good for the muscles. She presses her fingers near her neck, where it’s tight, and massages, then bends down to cast more Heal and Ice spells onto her ankle. Grime and sand flow down her skin, losing saturation as it curls down the drain under her feet. The soap stings when it runs over her scrape. 

She can’t keep making mistakes. 

Maybe the waltz step was too much and over-complicated things.

Aqua turns the knob off after rinsing her body and listens to the water drip onto the floor. The repetitive sound is hypnotic. She’ll journal her progress when she gets to her room and make comparisons with entries from the last few weeks. 

Hopefully, she’s improving at an acceptable speed despite the injury.

Aqua tests her ankle. She can’t flex it. Stars.

What is she missing when it comes to her technique? Does she need better endurance with her pirouettes? Does she have the time to do it right before the Mark of Mastery? 

When she realizes that she needs a towel to dry off—and there’s no towel in sight—she realizes that she’s been standing there wasting the time away. The shower is the greatest and the worst place to think.

Aqua figures she could grab a towel from the storage room nearby without anyone noticing. 

She opens the curtain.

Terra is standing right there, eyes as round as oranges with a heavy bag of fertilizer in his arms. He drops it. Aqua shuts the curtain with a screech.

“I’m sorry!” she hears him yell. Through the bottom of the curtain, she sees him scalping for excess that spilled over. Whatever hits the floor is mixing into the water, making mud. He’s barefoot.

“Terra, what the stars—?” she hisses, covering herself despite the curtain (a single piece of thin fabric).

“I’m sorry! I didn’t know you were in here!”

“How is that possible?”

“Why are you standing here doing nothing?”

“Just—Terra—” She groans loudly.

There is a pause as he walks backwards. “I-I didn’t see anything.”

“Get out of here.”

His footsteps slap across the floor, a subtle splash and the smack against the tile. Aqua peeks through the curtain when it’s quiet. She’s alone with a sequence of mud heading into the castle. Aqua grabs her clothes, slipping the bare minimum on despite its filth, and treks down the hall, purposefully taking opposite directions from his trail.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Their designated table in the library is always littered with books, damaged ones exchanged for the unread when the assignment deems it. There’s an extra stack for Ven since he’s a couple of years behind. 

Aqua (carefully) enters the library (ignoring the throbbing—it will heal quickly, she tells herself). She’s cleanly dressed and re-bathed, and takes a seat at the desk while Terra and Ven babble about the nonsense of a textbook they both hate. 

Terra gives her a quick, panicked glance before turning away from her and staring hard at the book in front of him.

Ven notices. “Aqua, are you hurt?”

“I’m fine, just a sprain,” she says, suddenly clenched in the throat. What happened in the shower was nothing. No big deal. Sometimes best friends see things. So why is she, too, bordering on panic? Heat builds in her cheeks, so much that it hurts. Aqua tilts her head at an angle so her hair covers her face. 

“What’s with you two?” Ven asks and Aqua flinches. 

“Nothing, Ven,” Terra says too sternly. He bites his lip and stands too quickly. “A Heal spell isn’t enough for a sprain, what were you thinking?” he asks her without looking at her. He clears his throat loud enough to make Ven recoil, trying his best to hide how shaky his voice has become. “Excuse me,” Terra says before shuffling his feet like he’s holding his pee and disappearing.

When it’s quiet, Ven leans forward to get into Aqua’s personal space. “Okay, I know something’s up. What’s going on?” He squints. “Why is your face all red?”

“N-no reason.” Aqua opens a book. If she digs her entire face into it, it will look like she’s hiding on purpose. She lowers her chin (casually) to pretend she’s reading.

“You’re a liar.”

Aqua slams the book back down. “I do not lie, Ven.”

“Sure, you’re the definition of perfect. But you’re lying to me now.”

Aqua doesn’t know what to do. Her record is spotless. She’s a good student and a good person. She’s only ever told small, harmless white lies, about being tired when she doesn’t feel like it, or saying she isn’t hungry when she is so they don’t catch her sneaking in a brownie. But not this. 

“I’m not,” she says in the most unconvincing way.

“Fine, I’ll bug Terra about it—”

“There was,” Aqua says, her voice uneven (damn the stars), “an accident.”

Ven raises a skeptical brow. “And? How bad could that be?”

Aqua huffs and crosses her arms. It’s just Ven. Her other best friend, no judgment here. “Terra surprised me.”

Ven rolls his eyes.

“In the communal shower.”

He points and laughs at her, dropping his head in a fit and slamming a fist onto the surface of the table. “That’s the best thing I’ve ever heard,” he says in between gasps. “Oh, he must be suffering right now.”

Terra returns, more relaxed, carrying a wooden bowl and bandages. Still, he avoids looking Aqua in the eye.

“So…” Ven says with an obnoxious knowing to his voice and Aqua regrets everything. “Did you enjoy the view?”

Terra stares at her first, his brown skin pale. He glares at Ven with the ferocity of homicide.

Ven bursts into another shake of laughter. “Stars, don’t tell me. You’re blushing so hard.” 

At that, Aqua looks away. The thought is embarrassing and a… relief? At the same time? 

Terra doesn’t honor Ven with a reply. He trembles, forming a claw with his hand. When he waves it, the bookshelves shake. Several books zoom out and flap, hovering over Ven and hitting him on the head like crows on the attack. 

“Wait, stop, how are you doing this?” Ven shields his head with his arms, but Terra is bent on murder. Ven summons his Keyblade and cuts straight through the spine of a book. “Okay, okay, I get it!” The books glide close, ready to torpedo if necessary. Terra refuses to say anything. Ven steps away from the table, on guard. Then he smirks. He sticks his tongue out and bolts out the door. “Maybe that means you guys will finally kiss!” he yells down the hall.

Kiss.

A word as loud as a volcano erupting. 

Terra lets go of his magic and all the books drop to the floor, yet the crash is still quieter than Kiss, quieter than how hard her heart is drumming in her chest.

Without a word, Terra picks up the bowl with both of his hands and mumbles a short-lived Fire spell. It’s obvious that she’s to remove her sock and give her ankle to him. That’s the point, a turmeric and olive oil mix, gently heated to reduce inflammation. He doesn’t need to ask.

Aqua lifts her leg to remove her stocking.

Terra flinches and dramatically averts his eyes.

“It’s just a sock, Terra.”

Terra motions to look at her as a response, but stops himself. “You shouldn’t be walking on it,” he bites.

“Call me stubborn.”

“You’re stubborn.”

She fights the impulse to slap him on the back of the head. “Here.” She offers her naked leg to him.

Terra still won’t look at her, but digs two of his fingers into the mix and holds her calf with his other hand. He almost draws back from her skin. Stars, he is blushing. She is too, she can feel it, a boil in both of her cheeks, a flame building in her stomach. His fingers are warm and strong, a caress on her skin. She likes this. She has all the capability to do this herself but she doesn’t want to.

Shit.

Aqua crosses one arm over and brings her hand to her chest—her way of looking dignified as Terra rubs the solution over her ankle. She has been appreciating how broad his shoulders have gotten, how sharp his jawline is, how tall he’s grown. All things that most people would notice, surely. He’s beautiful, he’s always been.

He opens his mouth to say something.

Aqua panics. “If you dare make a comment—”

“You’ll kick me?” Terra lifts her leg higher out of spite and nearly pulls her off the chair. He takes the bandage and starts to wrap. 

Aqua stammers. How are they going to get through this?

“It was an accident, Terra.”

He freezes as though he can’t decide if he should finish the job or drop her leg. After a pause, he pitches his voice into a high octave to mimic her (badly). “Oh please, Terra, they’re just breasts. Nothing major.”

“You said—” she squeaks and covers her mouth. She shouldn’t be so naive. The heat in her cheeks bake. 

That’s fine. Best friends know lots of intimate things, especially with how long Terra and Aqua have been together. Some of her guts, though, are about to choke her esophagus. She hopes that doesn’t mean she wanted him to see anything. That she’d want him to enjoy it. 

Shit. 

Terra trembles in nervous laughter, soft and quiet, staring holes into her ankle as he knots the bandage. He’s blinking too much. “You’ll need to compress cold rice on it every now and then,” he says, suddenly serious. “And rest,” he stresses like it’s a curse word.

“Terra?”

He hesitates. “Yeah?”

Footsteps approach them from behind, too graceful to be Ven’s. Terra scrambles to pick up the books, choosing the sliced one first to slip into the bookshelf so the Master doesn’t notice. Aqua straightens herself out and slips on her shoe.

“Would someone mind explaining to me the mess in the communal showers?” the Master asks as he enters, before eyeing the mess in the library. He braces his hips with his fists. “What on earth are two concoting here?”

Her cheeks burn harder. 

“Not much, sir,” Terra says, gathering a tall stack of books under his chin. “Pranking Ven. The usual.” 

The tone of his voice is too suspicious and the Master knows them too well.

“Aqua,” the Master says, “you sustained an injury.”

All she can come up with is, “Not in the prank, sir.” 

“So the mud—?”

“In the shower,” Terra says quickly, without thinking. Overcompensating for the awkwardness. He bites his lip. “I mean, she slipped when she was showering.”

“He only knows because I told him,” Aqua says and she wants to slap herself. Of course that’s how Terra would find out in any normal story. Spelling it out makes it seem like he witnessed it himself. Terra glares her a new one.

Eraqus reads her with skepticism. He folds his hands behind his back and clears his throat. “Terra, you remember the discussion we’ve had some years ago regarding certain curiosities—”

“Yes, Master.” Terra inhales sharply and coughs.

The Master smiles. He looks pleased with himself. “You may continue to clear this up. And if you would please, keep the mischief at a minimum. It would be a great distraction from your work.”

Terra grits his teeth and Aqua lowers her eyes. “Yes, Master,” they both say slowly, like they’re about to step on hot coal. 

When the Master leaves, Terra drops books onto the table. He’s finally looking at her, his eyes such a striking depth. It suddenly melts her away. Why so sudden though? He’s always had dark eyes. 

Oh. She’s taken him for granted. Now she sees.

“What was that?” he whispers.

Aqua scoffs. “I was about to ask you the same thing.”

He shakes his head. “I never want to have that kind of conversation with the Master ever again.” 

“At least let me help you,” Aqua says, nodding over to the last gathering of books on the floor.

“I’m not letting you stand on that foot.” He bends over to do the work himself.

“Then I’ll help you clean out the mud.”

Terra puts away the last handful of books, and chuckles to himself. “How do you want to get there? Crutches?”

“No, thank you.”

“Well, I either carry you in my arms or I fling you over my shoulder.”

Aqua needs to find a spell to hide the blushing. It aches. “What an obnoxious suggestion.”

“Then I’ll leave you here in the library.”

“No.”

Terra snorts. “Okay.” He hooks an arm under her knees and lifts the rest of her body like she’s a hollow ragdoll. So close to him, Aqua can feel the grooves of his muscle, his chest durable and broad. She wonders if he enjoys holding her this close, too. 

“I am really sorry,” he says as he takes her back towards the showers, passing by the open entrance to that gym, padded for wrestling. It’s not one they use often, since most of their training happens towards the front entrance. “I was on my way to take care of the squash. It was a dumb accident.”

“It’s okay,” Aqua says. She’s resting her head on his shoulder, staring at the way his neck moves when he speaks. Here, they don’t have to look at each other. “It wasn’t a big deal.”

“Yeah.” He sounds almost disappointed, if not relieved. “Glad we sorted that out, right?”

“Definitely.” She wraps her arms around his neck tighter. 

“What were you doing?”

“Pushing myself too hard.” Aqua scoffs.

“Typical Aqua.”

At the way he says that—mock-cocky, snivelish, playful—she blushes. He hasn’t changed since they were little, but it’s a side to him that only she and Ven sees.

There’s a lot to him that he only shows her.

They reach the storage room where the mop and towels would be stored, but he doesn’t enter. “We really need to install a door here,” he says. They reach the communal showers, and he bypasses them too. Terra finally settles her down on the terrace outside.

“Stay here, I’ll be back.”

“No, wait, I’m helping you—”

“Not with that foot, you’re nuts.”

“You can’t stop me from crawling back inside.”

“Then I’ll drag you back out.” He smirks, almost like he’s his old self but not quite. His old self isn’t this adamant. It makes her think that there’s something he isn’t saying, that maybe she’s misreading him, stuck between doing his duty to help her and needing time away from her. That he’s hiding it all behind a joke, and she has to let him go.

“Okay.” She crosses her arms. 

“Rest isn’t terrible for you,” he says as he walks away. 

Aqua stares at dry dirt. Down this path are the flower and vegetable gardens, contained by a fence. Beyond is the trail that leads right to the spot where she started this ridiculous ordeal. If only she didn’t trip. She’s been training for years. She’s too skilled to be having accidents, too far in her studies to think this hard about her feelings for Terra.

Too far in her studies and too mature to keep denying that she wants him to look at her. She does.

She gets tapped on the head. 

“Wait here,” Terra says, heading towards the gardens, barely giving her a glance.

Aqua anchors her elbows onto her thighs and drops her chin into her hands. A sudden thought invades her mind: he’ll come back from whatever chore he has to finish here, take her to her room, and now that everything is said and done, they’ll pretend like none of this has happened.

And that is that. A weird day finished, a blip in history.

Terra comes back into view faster than she anticipated, holding a bouquet of orange and blue flowers in his hand. 

Aqua uses the wall to pull herself up, keeping most of her weight on the good foot. “What’s this?”

Terra opens his mouth to speak, and leaves it there. He licks his lips and offers the flowers. “Um…” He scoffs. “I’m bad at this.”

They smell nice. Roses and bluestars. They must be his way to apologize. “They’re beautiful.”

“Um…” He clears his throat, rubbing something raw at the back of his neck. “Would you like to, uh…” He glances at the ground beneath him, summoning the courage to look at her and speak clearly, overusing his hands to demonstrate. “There’s actually a really pretty cave nearby, full of crystals and minerals. It’s spectacular, and I’ve always wanted to take you to see it.” He blushes, swallowing. “Um, when you feel better, would you like to come see it with me? Spend the night, I mean?” He blushes harder, scoffing. “It’s a nice hike and it’s a great camping spot.”

Aqua squeezes the stems of the flowers and her heart hammers too hard to find her voice. “That sounds…” She exhales. “Nice.” She almost asks for permission—from who, she doesn’t know. Terra is asking her. She’s asking herself. “Yes, I’d love to.” She hopes to the stars she’s blushing less than him. 

Terra has no answer except for a nervous giggle, his eyes gleaming. He leans forward and kisses her on the cheek, whipping himself back with a hand to his face like he’s committed the worst sin in the world. 

It’s warm where he left his lips. Aqua touches it with her fingers.

Embarrassed laughter sputters out of Terra’s mouth with many unnecessary apologies.

Aqua smiles, and it comforts him. “Can you take me back inside?” she asks, that smile twisting her cheeks. It hurts so good.

“Sure,” he breathes. “Anywhere you want.”

They exchange rogue giggles and excited glances as he carries her. They talk as if nothing indeed has happened, where they avoid any mention of mischief to be had in the near future, at least for now. Maybe the stars threw her off balance this morning on purpose. Best friends. They’ve always been.

[the-currian]

T7!

lmao this entire fic is full of inside jokes. originally made for the Filo A3!/Genshin discord I’m a part of as part of the server bang. it’s already been uploaded there, so i decided to fix it up a bit and upload it here as well^^

i may not be active anymore in the server; i’m more of a lurker now, but i’d like to dedicate this to the server members. you guys gave me lots of good times and things to smile about & look forward to during a time when i was trying to pick myself up. thank you <3

--

One event that Izumi brushes off as the daily shenanigans that come along with being the director of the Mankai Company has a bigger impact on her actors than she thought.

or:

The director is clueless to the thirst/advances of the company. The troupes struggle. The director remains oblivious.

--

It all started with a towel.

Living in a dorm along with over twenty young men, surely there would be no shortage of needs for day-to-day life… or so Izumi thought. Staring at her reflection in the bathroom’s mirror has made her realize that perhaps she’d overestimated the dorm’s supplies.

‘Maybe if I’m quiet enough, no one will notice me sneaking back to my room.’ She thinks to herself in dismay, tugging at the bath towel that just barely covered the more…indecent parts of her body.

‘It’s just my luck that my bathroom sprung a leak.’

Thus, Izumi was forced to use one of the communal bathrooms shared by the actors. Of course, she’d made it abundantly clear that no one was allowed to go in while she made use of the actors’ facilities (Izumi’s also fairly sure that Sakyo had stressed that no one was allowed even remotely near the communal bathroom while she were there) but the thought of walking back to her room with nothing but a towel on made her anxiety skyrocket.

‘I should’ve just waited for my own shower to be fixed.’

Being too used to having her own private bathroom, Izumi had developed the habit of only grabbing a towel from a cabinet before heading off into the showers since it’s directly connected to her room. Why bother bringing new clothes into the bathroom and risk getting them wet when she could just change in her own bedroom?

Obviously that logic was null in this scenario – what with the trek she now has to make back to her room from the communal showers, and only in a towel! Moreover, the towel was obviously intended for only covering the lower half of men, if the short length was anything to go by.

Mulling it over, Izumi weighs the pros and cons of walking through the dorm’s corridors in only a towel to shield herself, then allows herself a few minutes to sulk over the decision made. Taking a deep breath, Izumi steels herself before slowly creaking open the bathroom door, peeking for any bystanders. Seeing none, she carefully tiptoes back to her room. 

Thud. Thud. Thud.

As she makes her way through, Izumi feel like every step echoes throughout the halls and she instinctively tightens her grip on the towel, desperately trying to draw it tighter and more securely around her. Thankfully, Izumi is able to make it to her room without incident – she really needs to thank Sakyo for clearing the area later – when suddenly, as her room is less than a meter away, a shadow darts into her field of vision.

Already tense and on edge from the situation she found herself in, Izumi lets out an ear-splitting shriek and all hell breaks loose.

Footsteps come thundering her way and Izumi’s brain short-circuits as the whole company suddenly appears in the corridors, all of them calling out “director” or various other namesakes in worried tones.

Izumi struggles to form a coherent sentence to tell them that she’s fine and for all of them to stay the hell away please and thank you, when the shadow from earlier who she now identifies as Misumi in the middle of a triangle hunt cheerfully calls out,

“Oh, director! Did you have a nice bath?”

The corridor goes eerily quiet, and Izumi feel several pairs of eyes focused on her state of dress – or lack thereof, rather.

Masumi and several other of the younger members faint almost instantly. Most of the adults’ faces flush bright red as they stammer out apologies, while some others politely avert their eyes.

One thing is for certain.

The entire company is suddenly reminded that their director is in fact a very attractive, very single, woman.

As all the men seem to be distracted by their own mental turmoil, Izumi takes the opportunity to slip into her room. After making sure the door is securely locked, she deflates and slides down against the door. The shuffling of footsteps fades away, signaling the company members’ retreat, and Izumi’s mind takes its sweet time to process what just occurred.

Once again, the Mankai dorms are filled with Izumi’s ear-splitting shriek, only this time the members are wise enough to leave her be.

--

By dinnertime, Izumi figures she’s calmed down enough to let bygones be bygones.

“Thanks for the food!” she forces herself to say in a cheery manner, tight-lipped smile giving her away.

She’s honestly still feeling a bit apprehensive by the stares she receives over the dining table, but her actors fall back into an easy conversation. Izumi, on the other hand, finds herself half-heartedly poking the eggplant tempura that she normally eats with gusto as a side dish to her beloved curry. Something about the atmosphere makes her feel uneasy as if there’s some sort of unspoken tension that everyone but she has figured out.

Again, Izumi feels everyone’s eyes on her as she abruptly stands up. In her haste, the chair screeches against the floor and her tableware clatters noisily, making herself the unwanted center of attention.

“I…I’m not feeling that hungry tonight.” Izumi mutters, refusing to meet anyone’s eyes. Mustering up the last of her dignity, Izumi shuffles out of the room and goes straight to her bedroom, making sure the door locks.

Unbeknownst to her, mere minutes after she’d cleared the vicinity, Sakyo abruptly calls for an all-troupes-on-deck meeting. After clearing the dining area, the large group of young men make their way over to the living room and try their best to get comfortable amongst one another, the room suddenly feeling very cramped with everyone in the room at the same time.

In front of them all, the only one standing, Sakyo paces back and forth as he strategizes the best course of action to approach the situation. He comes to a sudden halt and the group’s attention is immediately focused on Sakyo, with the younger ones’ backs stiffening as they straighten up in an unconscious sign of deference.

“We do not speak of the incident that happened earlier this morning.” Sakyo’s voice comes out quietly but threateningly as he levels a glare at each and every occupant of the room. “We make the director feel as safe as possible in our presence. Got it?”

Not bothering to wait for a response, Sakyo stalks out of the room. Slowly, the actors disperse and go about their usual nightly activities, but fuelled by the reminder of the spectacle that had occurred that morning gave them some other plans in mind.

--

“Tangina mo, Banri.” Itaru swears under his breath as his character is suddenly left for dead in the middle of a space station. The culprit was none other than Banri, who had Itaru and the other players in the server fooled.

“What was that, Chigasaki?” Chikage questions with mild interest from his side of the room.

Itaru takes out his phone and opens up another game to play as he waits for Banri to inevitably win as the impostor in the game.

“Playing a game with some strangers online. Picked up some lingo from these Filo players that Banri and I happen to clash against a lot.” Itaru elaborates with a nonchalant shrug of his shoulders.

“Hm. I do wonder how you or Settsu intend to win the director over when all you do is mess around in those games of yours.”

Itaru’s fingers hover over his phone screen for a split second as he processes the older man’s words.

“…Excuse me?”

“You are aware of what the... ah, towel incident this morning has caused, aren’t you?”

“Sakyo already told us to not bring it up.” Itaru says calmly, but Chikage notices his roommate’s ears redden at the reminder, and is pleased to see that his goading has its intended effect.

“Of course.” Chikage concedes. “However, the younger members of the troupe can be quite rash.”

Itaru lightly drops his phone onto his desk and runs his fingers through his hair as he grudgingly turns to his roommate. Itaru hastily ties his bangs away from his face and levels what he hopes is a neutral stare at Chikage. 

“Not my job to keep the kids’ thirsting under control.” He says, then turns back to face his monitor.

“I suppose…”

With that, Itaru starts playing his game again as the subject matter is dropped.

“But perhaps it’s not the kids you should be worrying about.”

…or so he thought.

Again, Itaru takes the bait and bites out, “What exactly are you trying to say, senpai?”

Chikage changes his expression into one of feigned innocence. “Nothing, really. Ah, I do hope you don’t mind having curry for lunch tomorrow. The director and I will be cooking together all morning.”

Itaru is about to stand up and retort, fed up with Chikage’s subtle remarks, when a loud noise blares from Itaru’s computer, causing him to curse and swiftly turn back to his screen. “Shit, you’re distracting me from my game. Do me a favor and go back to being the absentee roommate for a while.”

With an amused chuckle, Chikage acquiesces to his roommate’s request and heads out, closing the door behind him.

Itaru slumps back against his chair as soon as the older man is gone and puts on his headset. Taking a quick glance back before clicking it on, he speaks in a low voice,

“Hey, director, sorry for muting my mici. Let’s get back to the game, shall we?”

--

The next morning, Chikage walks into the kitchen with a special bag of spices in hand. However, seeing another member of the company already in the kitchen with the director has him narrowing his eyes and his mouth curving down in displeasure.

“So first we have to roast the eggplant before we dip it in the egg?” Izumi asks her companion.

Chikage takes in the sight of Omi leaning in quite close behind the director with the excuse of supervising her work, and a twinge of annoyance bothers him.

“That’s right.” Omi confirms, drawing even closer to Izumi as he points to the long, purple fruit. “But before that, we peel the skin off after it’s done roasting.”

The tall college student is practically caging Izumi as both hands reach from either side of her to demonstrate how to peel the eggplant. At this, Chikage decides to make his presence known.

“I was under the impression that it would only be the two of us making lunch, director.” he butts in, frown replaced with a sharp smile.

“Oh, Chikage!” Izumi calls out as she casually slips out of Omi’s arms, oblivious to the pout on Omi’s face as she does so. “Don’t worry! We’re still making curry for lunch. It’s just that Tasuku got a bunch of eggplants from helping out at a farm, so we’ve been trying to figure out different ways to cook them. I believe this dish is called tortang talong? Anyway, Omi insisted that he help me out with lunch today! I hope you don’t mind.”

“Yes, I hope you don’t mind the intrusion, Chikage.” Omi echoes, looking completely unapologetic as he says so.

Not one to back down, Chikage completely ignores the younger man’s backhanded apology and instead turns his attention to the director.

“Here.” he says, holding the bag of spices out to Izumi. As she takes the bag from Chikage, his hands linger on hers for much longer than strictly necessary, causing her grip on the bag to fumble. A blush quickly creeps onto Izumi’s face.

“Th-thanks.” She stammers, hastily pulling her hands back as soon as she’s gotten a firm hold on the bag of spices.

The three adults cook in the kitchen with an awkward silence that Izumi just can’t figure out the root of. An unspoken tension looms over and she can’t bring herself to speak up. Lost in her thoughts, Izumi picks up a roasted eggplant then yelps at the heat of the newly roasted fruit, burning herself. Before Izumi can act, Omi grasps her wrist, inspecting her hand.

“Be careful, alright?” he says gently, guiding Izumi over to the sink and sticking her hand under the running faucet.

Izumi involuntarily shivers, and she’s not so sure if it’s because of the temperature of the cold water or if it’s because of the tender way that Omi handles her.

“Let Omi and I take care of the rest, director.” Chikage’s voice comes out harshly, snapping Izumi out of her thoughts. He hands her an ice pack and she takes it with a grateful smile.

“That’s probably for the best.” Izumi agrees, then turns off the faucet. As she leaves the kitchen and heads over to the living room, Izumi can feel the tension from earlier return tenfold and quickly hightails it out of there, deciding that she didn’t want to know, nor did she want to get caught up in the crossfire.

--

“So it’s curry again today, huh.” Tenma says dejectedly as he settles at the dining table.

Most of the other company members mumble the same sentiment but ultimately sit down.

Citron’s eyes light up as he spots the other food dish on the table. “Not to worry, everyone! It appears we are also having Tasuku’s eggplant for lunch!”

Several of the actors give Citron a blank stare.

“Somehow, that just doesn’t sound right.” Taichi says, and Juza nods in agreement.

“Oh, director! What happened to your hand?” Tsumugi blurts out, immediately picking up on the strange way Izumi held her chopsticks.

Izumi blanches and reflexively cradles her hand to her chest, closing herself off from the young men to spare them from worry. “It’s nothi–“

“Izumi accidentally burned herself while preparing lunch.” Chikage immediately speaks over her.

“Uwah!” Muku cries out. “Director, you shouldn’t be using your hand, then! You might irritate the wound and then it might get worse and then you’ll have to retire from being director because your–“

“Hey, hey, chillax!” Kazunari reins in Muku before he can start spiralling into catastrophizing Izumi’s minor dilemma. “The solution is obvious, Mukkun! All I have to do is feed Izumi her lunch! Her dinner, too, probs!”

“If anyone is feeding the director, it’s gonna be me.” Masumi asserts.

“Now hold on a minute. “ Izumi begins to protest.

“Fufufu~ How about it, director?” Azuma says, offering his own eggplant to Izumi with his chopsticks.

The dining room is quickly filled with the clamor of various members insisting that they be the one to feed the director her lunch.

“Boys, settle down!” Izumi yells over the cacophony of voices. At the authority in her tone, the young men back down and turn their attention to Izumi. “No one is going to be feeding me my lunch but myself.”

“But director, I must insist that we protect your hand from–“ Homare insists, then cuts himself off as he shrinks back from Izumi’s intense glare.

“I’ll just eat with my other hand using a fork.” She says before turning to Sakyo. “Sakyo, if you’d be so kind, could you cut my food into smaller pieces for me?”

“What a kid.” He grouses, but obliges to Izumi’s request, a triumphant glow in his eyes as he challengingly looks at the other members who are about to protest.

With the problem solved and the members (relatively) under control, lunch proceeds as normal – well, as normal as possible – for the Mankai Company.

--

“I’m really sorry to bother you two like this.” Izumi addresses the two men in her room later that afternoon. “I know I should probably get a professional to do this, but I just don’t want a repeat of yesterday happening anytime soon.”

All three occupants of the room’s faces heat up at the reminder.

“It’s fine.” Tasuku mumbles, determinedly looking at anywhere but Izumi.

“Right!” Tsuzuru chimes in, eyebrow twitching in betrayal of his true emotions. “Since Tasuku and I are both used to doing odd jobs, this’ll be a cinch.”

“Alright, then.” Izumi says, then opens the door to her bathroom, ushering the two young men inside. Tasuku and Tsuzuru take wary steps, toolboxes in hand, feeling a bit apprehensive about invading Izumi’s private space.

“Go ahead.” Izumi encourages, noticing their stiff posture. “I have nothing to hide! No dead bodies or horses or any other weird things like that.” She jokes, hoping to lighten up the atmosphere.

Neither of the actors deign to give her a response, and instead set down their toolboxes, pulling out wrenches, screwdrivers, flashlights, and the like to figure out and solve the leakage.

Izumi silently watches as the two men deftly handle the tools. She finds herself entranced by the way their arms slightly flex while their fingers nimbly maneuver their tools as they tinker away at her shower.

Realizing her train of thought, Izumi lightly slaps her cheeks as she feels a blush rising to her face.

‘Get a hold of yourself! They’re just here to fix your shower–‘

Izumi’s mind comes to a screeching halt as Tasuku lifts the hem of his shirt to wipe some sweat off of his brow, unknowingly (?) allowing her to catch a glimpse of his abs. Similarly affected by the heat as they work, Tsuzuru rolls up the sleeves of his shirt, showing off his lean arm muscles along with the veins that slightly protrude from his forearms as they flex whilst working.

“I-I’ll leave you to it, then!” Izumi barely manages to squeak out, face glowing bright red, before fleeing the bathroom.

Tasuku and Tsuzuru spare a quick glance back at her retreating figure before going back to work, identical smirks on their smug faces.

--

Later that evening, Izumi’s shower is fixed without incident and she’s ready to relax after all the shenanigans of the day.

‘Nothing like a hot shower to wash the stress away before going to bed.’

This time, she makes sure to check the towel’s length, ensuring it’s long enough to cover all the important bits. After a few seconds of contemplation, she also grabs a bathrobe.

‘Just in case…’

Izumi lazily undresses herself before settling under the stream of warm, steaming water. A satisfied mewl escapes her lips as she feels herself unwind, her body relaxing in the warmth of the shower.

She allows herself a few minutes of comfortable silence in the shower before grabbing her shampoo to start lathering when the water suddenly turns ice cold. Her eyes widen at the sensation as she instinctively jumps away and lets out a screech.

Within seconds, the actors’ footsteps thunder down the corridor over to Izumi’s room. A sense of déjà vu comes over her as she hears several shouts of, “Director, are you okay?!” and “What’s going on?!”, coupled with loud banging on her (thankfully) locked door.

Izumi lets out an exasperated groan.

‘I knew I should’ve just gotten a professional to fix the shower.’

[vesperstalksclones]

Ok so @captainrexisboo was talking to people about Rex and cinnamon flavored mouth wash, which made this amazeballs art happen by @samrubio and that got me thinking about clones and tasty flavors.... and I'm a dirty hoe... and this fell out of my Brain:

Peppermint Playtime

(or something like that)

*I'm sorry, I cannot for the life of me figure out how to do a "read more" line with my phone. Please forgive me.

*Kix x gender neutral reader

*Filth filth filth, Kix gets his brain sucked out thru his peepee, and things get crazy there is a little finger walking of the dirt trail. Just saying.

Have fun!!

●●●●●●

Kix had excused himself to go search out some food, allowing you the first bit of privacy You'd had in four days.

You'd been dispatched to Torrent squadron after the 501st had discovered a hidden slave camp tucked into the dense jungles of this gods-forsaken planet, the occupants suffering terribly from malnutrition and exposure. Tending wounded troopers as well as suffering civilians was more than he was equipped for, so the chief medical officer had dispatched you and a transport of supplies to fill the need. Kix had arched a brow at the nat-born medical technician he'd been landed with, chuckled at your name, Magik' (left over from university when you could repeat practically all of Magik's Anatomy Atlas verbatim) and within the hour was eye-fucking you from the table where he was irrigating infected wounds. Quite the romantic first meeting.

Truth be told, even the difficulty of a four day grind in the field ward couldn't blind you to how damn beautiful the trooper was. They were all made from the same man… but Kix seemed… more, somehow. His amber eyes seemed to burn with more gold and his hair was an inker ebony… his lips more plush and his lilting baritone voice richer. You might have indulged in a great deal of reciprocal eye fucking.

Now, in the privacy of his little cubby hole, you shed your filthy clothes, adding them to the growing pile and dug out your precious pouch of wipes and a spray bottle of saniwash. Metered showers on the Venator sucked. Wipes sucked far more. But you were sweaty and tired and the massaging of the towel bath was marvelously soothing after the grind. You scrubbed yourself down thoroughly, sighing at the cool air kissing at your skin as you ran your palms over your chest and belly to whisk away any remaining moisture. Stooping, you retrieved the used cloths and straightened, your eyes locking with the wide eyed stare of the medic who had appeared out of nowhere and was watching you a little slack jawed. 

Your insides jumped, but outwardly you remained cool, tilting your head coyly at him.

"Kix… how long have you been standing there?" 

A look of panic crossed his face and he gritted his teeth, the spell suddenly broken by the sound of your voice. 

"Not… not too long…. I didn't see… I…" he stammered. You couldn't help but adore his bashfulness, even as the two of you had stared across more naked bodies in the past few days than you'd care to count. 

"Oh, stop. Get over here, you need to clean up!" 

He shuffled forward, discarding the food packets he'd brought before drawing himself up in front of you, training his eyes somewhere above your head. 

"I can help… If you want me to."

His eyes snapped down to yours, surprise painting his features… but also maybe… eagerness?

"If that's ok…" You continued, nodding innocently as your lips pursed.

He nodded, the corners of his mouth turning up into a small grin.

You tucked your fingers under the hem of his blacks, tugging the shirt up until his navel peeked out.

"Look, Kix… It's been a shitty couple of days and I just… I really want to put my hands on something healthy and … " You shuddered as you pressed your palms against the muscles of his abdomen. "... gorgeous."

He nodded again, the corner of his mouth creeping high into smirk, realizing what you were getting at and immensely enjoying the idea. You pulled the shirt the rest of the way off, and he hiked a booted foot up onto a container, working at loosening the shinguards. Not wanting to waste time you worked at his back, marveling at how the droplets of the wash collected on the rippled bronze muscles and the prickles that rose wherever your nails scraped at him while you scrubbed. He threw up the other boot to be loosened as you kneaded at his shoulders, pulling a groan from the medic's lips. You rubbed the tension away until he straightened and stepped out of the armored boots, now clad only in the black tights. 

Grabbing the wash he hurriedly got to scrubbing his chest, eager to get business finished and move on to other things. Never to be the shy one, you cupped your palms over his hips, pressing yourself against his back, and rolling your hips against his ass, eliciting a small noise of approval. He was getting to work on his face when your fingers dipped down the front of his thighs and came together in the front, molding over the growing bulge in his pants. 

"Oh hell… " he groaned, canting his hips forward to press against your palms. "That's not helping."

"Then hurry up, Sir."

He growled low in his throat, dragging his pants down to hurriedly scrub himself as your fingers played at his abdominals, scratching little trails around his hips and scooping handfuls of his firm rear.

"Fucking Maker, you're beautiful." You whisper harshly, nipping at his shoulder. 

Kix clawed his tights the rest of the way off, with a grunt and spun to face you. His arm slipped around your waist and crushed you against his belly, his other hand fisting in your hair and gripping it snugly. 

" What did you want Magik, that you're so damn eager for?" He jerked your head lightly with the fist. "You think I didn't see you looking at me the last few days?" He brushed his lips against yours, holding you back when you stretched to kiss him. "What were you thinking about?"

Your nails were digging into his arms, the tension that hung over the two of you was nearly palpable. You were both exhausted and strung out and really needed something good and mind blowing to force you into a few hours of blissful slumber. 

"I want your cock… I want you in my mouth. I want your hands in my hair, and I want you to loose your damn mind."

"Fuck yes." He growled, slanting his lips over yours, groaning harshly as he thrust his tongue in your mouth, caressing at yours and exploring your warmth. 

You pushed him away and he let you go, your teeth scraping down his neck as you left. You dropped to your knees, pushing him back against the crates harshly and pressed your lips to his middle, leaving searing kisses and licks as you worked your way towards your prize. You were nuzzling at the crease of his thigh, his hard erection bumping at your cheek when you had a thought. He'd worked so damn hard to save those people… why not make things a bit more special for him. You scrambled to the side and dug in the pocket of your smock. He watched you curiously as you unearthed your tin of peppermints and scooped a bunch on to your tongue. You crunched them quickly, shuddering at the intensity of the mentholated chill they brought. Grabbing one of the cold beverages he brought, you slunk back before him and met his eyes with a naughty look in your own. 

"You worried about your breath?" He asked, confusion plain on his face. 

You shrugged and smiled sweetly. "No… but you should be."

His brows raised as you dipped your head towards his member, curling your tongue along his shaft, smiling at his moan of defeat. 

He ran his fingers through your hair before fisting them firmly, holding you tightly as you set to work. You spread your lips over the head, the velvety softness of the skin dragging against yours. A bead of pre-come had swelled at the tip and you ran your tongue through it, teasing at the tiny opening there as his breath hitched. Wetting your mouth thoroughly you slid him past your lips and on to your tongue, sucking experimentally at the mouthful as Kix shuddered above you. 

Flicking your eyes up to his, you found his mouth agape, his golden eyes locked on your face, the point of contact, memorizing the sight of his cock disappearing into you. 

"Is that good, Ad'ika? Take more…"

You pull away and plant a sloppy kiss to the head, before enveloping him again and pushing forward, taking more of his length with each bob of your head. His hands gripped tighter, pushing you forward firmly and you knew what he was wanting. You swallowed around him, shoving him deeply into your throat until your head spun and your nose brushed his abdomen and your shoulders shook as your body fought to reject his length. Fortunately a calm head and a lazy gag reflex kept things smooth and you slipped away, only to press forward again, swallowing him whole. 

Kix was gasping overhead, watching you have your way with him, satisfying your own craving even as he was the one who would surely benefit more. 

"Fuck… Magik! That feels …" his voice cracked in the middle of the sentence. "Stars… that's amazing! It feels… agh!" 

You ran your nails over his hips and thighs as you worked and he arched against you. Rolled his testicles between your fingers as you stroked the heavy sack, giggling at the stutter it put in his hips. You fumbled for the odds and ends you had deposited on the floor, dipping your fingers into a bit of oil You'd snatched from the clinic. 

Pulling away, you coaxed him to sit on the crates, leaned back and relaxed, and hooked a palm behind his knee, propping his leg high. 

He chuckled nervously. "Where is this going, Mag?"

"Trust me, doll. I think you'll like this." 

You sunk back down, taking him in your mouth again, your oily fingers smoothed behind his balls and crept back between the cheeks of his ass. He squirmed under your touch, his breaths occasionally turning into little whimpers as you swallowed him down, the sloppy noises of your spit soaked lips making an obscene symphony in the modest space. He trembled when your fingertips brushed against his entrance, the oil making the touch slick and soft as satin. You timed gentle strokes with the motion of your lips, listening closely to his pants and gasps for any hint that he wasn't enjoying himself. 

Seizing the moment,, you slipped a finger in to him up to the second knuckle. 

"Fucking!... Stars… ah!" He arched up his hands flying to clench the edges of the crate and you felt him tighten around you. 

You pull away from his cock, with a wet noise, gently caressing him. 

"Do you want me to stop, sugar?" 

"N.. n.. no!" He positively whined the word, giving himself over to you willingly.

You kissed his thigh and dove back on his member, fucking him sweetly with your mouth and your hand as he moaned and squirmed under your ministrations.

Maybe he thought he was the one in charge, but the beautiful man was your plaything for the moment and hearing him whimper and cry had your insides twisting, your own muscles clenching around emptiness in anticipation.

"Magik! Kriffing Maker Ad'ika … I need…" the words broke off in a sob as you slid your finger out of him.

"What do you need, Beautiful? Tell me.." You whisper, stroking his weeping cock with your free hand, watching his muscled abs gather so that he could thrust against your fist.

"I need to come… I'm close… please, please Ad'ika!"

You smile at the warmth his words bring, wanting more than anything else to see him fall apart from your touch. You drop your mouth over his head, drawing circles with your tongue as your hand pumps his length, the other dipping into your drinking cup and finding a tiny smooth bit of ice.

If he liked the cool on his cock… well..

You raised your head to watch as your fingers slipped to his ass and pressed the bit of ice inside him.

You heard the creak of the crates as his fingers clamped down, saw his pupils shrink to pinpoints and he exploded against your lips, body bowing into the air as a scream ripped from his chest. The climax rippled through him, setting the great muscles in his thighs quivering as ropes of hot spend splashed across your face and neck.

You'd expected it… just not so much!

Pleasantly pleased with yourself, you sat stroking his thighs as the sensations of release ricocheted around within him, making themselves known with little shudders and breathy gasps. 

It wasn't long before he relaxed and quieted, panting softly in the afterglow of his release and he raised his head, searching you with a dazed expression. 

"Hi there handsome. Welcome back."

"You…. Kriffing… what the hell are you?

He gasped out, looking half pleased and half afraid.

You shrugged.

"A discerning collector of orgasms. And yours, Sir, was superb."

He rolled from the crate with a groan, gaining his feet slowly, before pulling you up with him. Sharing in childish giggles, he apologized as he helped to clean your face, before pulling you down to the sleeping palette with a grin.

"Two can play at this game, Ad'ika."

[lluvguts]

Cool Blue ; Chapter Three

⤹⋆⸙͎۪۫｡˚۰˚☽˚⤹⋆⸙͎۪۫｡˚۰˚☽˚⤹⋆⸙͎۪۫｡˚

recurring visions of such sweet days

⤹⋆⸙͎۪۫｡˚۰˚☽˚⤹⋆⸙͎۪۫｡˚۰˚☽˚⤹⋆⸙͎۪۫｡˚

☽ warnings: slight nsfw (wet dreams, unresolved tension)

☽ fic masterlist

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He stashed the photos--really he flung them like a frisbee--onto his unmade bed and slammed the door shut before Giulia could inquire about his back pressed to the door, hands on the knob, a cross of a nervous grin and a suspicious glaze over his wavering eyes. But, after careful consideration and with both his sister and father's backs turned, Alberto wiggled back into his room to retrieve the precious pictures and put them carefully on the nightstand. He felt dirty knowing he'd tossed them onto his rumpled sheets, sitting there like he didn't care about them.

But he did.

He didn't expect to register all that had truly happened until tomorrow. His eyes dropped to the glass of tepid water from that morning and the pile of photos next to it, the memories coming back.

Luca's expectant yellow eyes watching him as he traced his shapes and scales with a paintbrush on the canvas.

When Luca grinned like a little puppy and pointed at the painting Alberto had propped on his knees, of none other than the boy himself.

Luca's chin jutting out in defiance when Alberto offered to take Luca's picture home, since keeping it at his home would only result in ruining it.

And, equally defying, the sharp curve of Luca's jawbone as he stuck his tongue out at the sky, leaving Alberto still. He could see his soft features working under there. The faint pulse of his throat, a thrumming instrument but all the same slightly animal. When he had rolled his eyes and begrudgingly scooted his own painting over with a claw, splattering water on the edge, Alberto's eyes fixed on his scales ripple and shift on display when Luca moved.

Somewhere on the surface of the ocean, (the ocean skin as Luca called it fondly, but Alberto couldn't possibly think of that now) a boat's amber light hung in the darkness, the only thing to see from outside and, Alberto bit his lip, holding one meaning.

They were hunting for sea monsters on that boat. Ercole's parents, no doubt.

He walked by the bed to the window, almost in a trance, and slammed it shut. The smells of the sea were cut off, night sounds silenced. He wished he wasn't able to see it anymore, but Massimo's aged house hardly had the proper plumbing to operate let alone some goddamn curtains. It frustrated him that though the mental image of Ercole's father on the boat had lifted, that glowing yellow light remained to taunt him.

Luca said he had a family. A mother and father who cared for him and maybe loved him enough to keep him safe from the surface. But where was he now? These men, more monsters than people, with spears and blades sharper than Massimo's, scanning the calm sea with searchlights? Would the lights scare Luca?

He caught himself on the ledge of the windowsill, holding the wood frame tight. He felt it sigh under his weight it was so old.

What was happening?

"Fratello! Papa is not happy that you're letting his dinner get cold! Again!" Giulia, as Alberto could tell by her voice, was pressed to his closed door and resorted to gleeful knocking again and again.

Alberto slid the lock into place on the window, staring out into the night for a breath. Once, twice, then cleared his throat and called back.

"I'll be just a minute!" He tried to wipe the thought of Luca thrashing in the grip of a fisherman's net from his mind as he spoke, but his words came out wobbly and restrained.

Giulia's annoying pounding on the door stopped. "Okay, but I'm not doing your stupid chores for you anymore! Papa says so!" He saw her shadow hover by the bottom doorframe then whisk away to the light of the kitchen.

But through all of the sweaty panic Alberto cherished the quiet moments spent eating. Neither asked where he'd hurried off to so early in the morning while he wolfed down his dinner. (Truly Alberto wasn't sure of the answer himself, he only figured that if Luca was indeed a sea monster, maybe he was up with the rising of the sun like the fish Massimo and Alberto caught at dawn). But they, mostly Giulia, did however beg to know where that pasta was going if all Alberto did during his free time was sit and draw. They didn't know it took grueling work to paddle out to the island, and equally challenging talent to wrestle your way out of a sea monster's grip. He kept that to himself, of course, even if Machiavelli was snippier than usual at Alberto's presence when he thought about it, bringing a suspicion on what he did during the day that neither Giulia or Massimo seemed to care about.

Alberto nudged the pouchy white cat with his bare foot and Machi bit down on his heel. He pulled his legs back under the chair as far as they could go and as an apology for the fishy smell on him, and for trying to make him move, he dropped a few pieces of sausage down on the floor. He was sure that if no one else in the house was to know, Machiavelli was on Alberto's case, but the cat only growled and ate the peace offering.

He sighed. He was safe for the time being. That made him laugh around his bite of salad.

"Think of something funny, son?" Massimo looked up from his plate. Giulia had finished long ago and was only spinning her fork around in circles on the tablecloth.

Alberto nodded with a smile. "The cat."

"Speaking of cats! There's one that I keep seeing in the alley by the Gelataria, Papa, and I think that Machiavelli likes her!" Giulia perked up and was speaking with passion to Massimo now, Alberto's little quip forgotten.

"The black cat? Giulia, they're bad luck," Massimo put on his best apologetic face but it only spurred Giulia on. Alberto stared at his empty plate and debated whether now was the opportune time to slip away to his room with them distracted.

"But please, Papa! We could have kittens!" Giulia pleaded, hands splayed on the table for effect. From under Alberto's chair Machi was stewing. He stood from the table and took their plates, looking calm. Massimo was holding Giulia's small hand softly in his larger one, but it looked as though the girl was next to tears.

Alberto knew she was faking it, though. He listened smugly with his back to them while rinsing the plates and cutlery.

"Kittens are a lot of work."

"Alberto is a lot of work, but we still keep him around!"

"Giuletta. Manners."

"Sorry, Papa."

"Where would they sleep, Giulia? In your bed with you? You are allergic, my dear."

"Only mildly! And besides, if I start sneezing or something, they can stay in Alberto's room! Plain and simple."

"Excuse me?" Alberto whipped around. "Who said that I was okay with having roommates?"

Giulia giggled until her nose went pink. "You've been sharing that Pescaria smell with the two of us since yesterday, and last I checked, we didn't ask. So think of it as an upgrade."

"Like you smell any better!"

"Actually, Alberto." Massimo turned to him. "It...is an odd smell on you. It's not entirely fish."

"Yeah fratello. It's worse."

"Okay, that's it. I'm excusing myself now. Giulia you get to pick the record to play tonight."

"Go take a shower!" Giulia hollered at him, earning a grumble of disapproval on Massimo's part.

"Y-Yeah, sure thing!"

But the whole time his mind was reeling. Massimo had caught it. Giulia had caught it. Even the cat noticed it, too. Alberto pulled his tank up and over his head once the door was shut, bringing it to his nose. It smelled like sweat and salt, the usual things, but he was right. There was something else. It was mild with his nose so close, but still sharp and tangy, as if the sea-sprinkled wind had a personality that stuck to his clothes.

But that wasn't it. It was...oh no.

It was Luca.

Despite his efforts, it took him a solid ten minutes of scrubbing in the shower to get rid of Luca's smell. It wasn't that he hated it, he was used to smelling like fish from hours spent on Massimo's boat--but Machi had kept Alberto up almost all night yesterday, growling and scratching at Alberto's door because of the smell on him.

From in the kitchen, Giulia had chosen one of Massimo's more upbeat records to listen to while they finished cleaning up. He could hear her off-key singing, and Massimo's baritone jumping in with her, which made him smile.

The polaroids were still there, sticking out from underneath a sliver of the water glass. But of course they were, why wouldn't they be? Door locked, window overlooking the sea mostly covered, Alberto let his bath towel fall to his ankles. A line of shower water tickled his chin, or maybe it was sweat, he wasn't sure. He needed to get dressed. But he picked up the first of five photos.

A blurry little square of the pool that morning, just to test the camera, but around the edges sprigs of grass sprouted up through cracks in the island rock, making the picture much more beautiful than he thought.

The next three were of Luca. All taken as close to the top of the water as Alberto could get, too afraid to stick a hand under and gesture Luca to the surface, and also because it wasn't his camera. Body curled under the water, examining things along the walls of the pool too far to see, tail moving slow and practiced. His dorsal fins were the only things that translated best over film, a brilliant cool blue that Alberto had checked (and double-checked) he had the right color paint for.

He let out a tiny sigh at the final photo. Luca facing him from below, his expression a scowl, looking so human it was hard to believe that he wasn't.

But, as Alberto's fingers pinched the corners of the photos, of Luca, holding his breath as he knew it was definitely sweat he was now feeling on his neck, wasn't he human?

His chest ached, drumming a painful harmony from his frantic heart all the way down his abdomen, and if he moved the photos from his line of vision and looked down--

Oh no.

He relentlessly put everything he had into hurrying to throw on some clothes and turn off the lights. crawling into bed, so transfixed on the polaroids and—was it possible? Really? Had he just…?

No. He refused to encourage that line of thinking.

Luca was a sea monster, and probably asleep someplace far below the surface with his family, dreaming of seaweed or whatever else things that were not human thought about.

But, as Alberto lay there rigid and aching, staring at the ceiling waiting for that to go away, part of him wished he could be there with him. To make sure he was okay.

Pfft, sure. Make sure he's alright. That's all.

/ / /

Luca was not dreaming of seaweed.

But he was convinced he had died in his sleep, over a dream of soft touches. Phantom hands running down his scales, someone's calloused fingertips grazing the hollow of his throat so tenderly it made Luca squirm. Luca grabbed his imaginary person's forearm, begging to be touched. One hand remained tracing patterns on his chest while Luca felt another take hold of the side of his face, rubbing circles into his gills until he was sure he was going to pass out from the stimulation. He was so...sensitive there. Around his cheeks and his gills and especially his tail. But all he could do was tilt his face back in guilty bliss and allow whatever was happening to him to continue.

He'd never in all of his years had a dream quite like this.

"P-Please..." Luca whispered. Please stop, or please keep going? Even he didn't know.

He swore he heard a chuckle echo, a familiar chuckle, a confident one, but some sort of reaction all the same.

Luca blinked in his dream, almost crying out because the touch was gone, but then he realized it had only moved. The imaginary touches returned, this time a cool fingertip along his dorsal fin to his tail, while Luca shivered around it, biting his cheek. His legs twitched, and his tail curled around the forearm of this imaginary hand, feeling safe and comfortable enough to do so even if it was touching him in ways his mother had warned him about. The air around him (around them? no one was there) felt absurdly warm, but he realized it was only coming from his scales. The smell that hung in the air was overpowering, thick and heady in sweetness with just a trace of salt that Luca could almost taste in the air. A familiar smell...

He couldn't take much more of it. He had to wake up before...something happened. Something bad.

The cold water of his bedroom startled him into consciousness, the subdued blues and greys in much starker contrast to the tropical greens he'd dreamt of. That white-hot feeling came back, this time stronger and with a ripple of pain that burned in the pit of his stomach. When he opened his eyes the water around his bed felt warmer, like it had in the dream, and when Luca stretched out a hand his fingers were cool though his forearm was not, as if he was the one causing all of this heat.

Huh. Weird.

The last memories of the dream were still a thick haze on his thoughts, racing around and replaying the scenes over and over again until Luca buried his face into the sewn kelp of his bed to keep from whimpering.

He let his hand press to his belly, where it hurt the most, then slip down the waistband of his pants to rest between his legs. His fingers came back covered in something slick.

"Alberto..." Luca whined, rolling onto his stomach to alleviate some of the discomfort.

His eyes flung open. Alberto?

Oh.

Oh no.