#hair relaxer alternatives for black hair

[blackgirlslivingwell]

Naturals Are Relaxing Their Hair? The Dangers of Chemical Relaxers

Chemical relaxers are making a comeback. Let me remind you of how harmful they are.

[slytherinslut0]

tom riddle. | everyone has their vices

summary: tom riddle tells you he jerks off (and more) to relieve stress. just….in typical tom fashion.

word count: 2k

tags: 18+, suggestive content, so much tension you’ll choke on it, frustrating subliminal tom riddle (though reader is just as stubborn), flirting, masturbation insinuation, make out sesh.

"But how?”

Tom inhaled sharply, the muscles in his jaw tightening as he prepared to reexplain for what felt like the hundredth time. "Because, the slightest distraction or doubt can result in consequence—as I said previous. A momentary lapse in any of the areas we covered will result in splinching."

You blinked, staring at him like he'd spoken an alternate language. The late night and the relentless focus on Tom's face for the past four hours had blurred everything into a haze and dulled his voice into a monotonous hum, blending with the soft rustle of parchment and the distant lapping of the lake against the window. He could see it—your disconnection, the way his words slipped past you like water through fingers.

He exhaled, slumping back in his chair, a hand raking through his dark hair in frustration. "Should we call it a night?"

"Probably," you muttered, your gaze drifting to the window behind him, the surface of the Black Lake rippling under the moonlight. "You've overloaded my brain. I stopped comprehending two hours ago."

You felt Tom's eyes narrow slightly as he studied you—you must have looked a mess. Strands of hair had fallen out of your ponytail, your uniform shirt was half undone, and there was a dullness in your eyes that spoke of more than just exhaustion. A week bedridden with the flu had set you back, and now, despite Tom's best efforts, you felt like you were drowning.

He knew you were stressed beyond measure—you were normally not like this.

"You need to relax," he said, the words landing with the flatness of an undisputed fact. "You won't retain anything in the state you're in."

"How can I relax when I'm two weeks behind? And exams are next week?" Your voice cracked with the weight of your frustration as you leaned your elbows on his desk, burying your face in your hands. "I'm helpless, Tom. I know you know it."

"Would I be sitting here wasting my time if I thought you were helpless?" He watched you, almost clinical in his intensity as he spoke—tone matter-of-factly, devoid of any false comfort. It cut through your despair with ease. Tom Riddle never did anything without purpose; if he was here, it meant he believed you were worth the effort. "My suggestion is that you reset your brain," he continued, his voice steady like his fingers as he shut the textbook between you. "Take a walk. Have a cold shower. Jump in the lake. Whatever you need to do to decompress."

The simplicity of his suggestions almost made you laugh, but it was the kind of laughter that would easily turn into tears if you let it. Tom had a way of stripping everything down to its most basic form—of cutting through your stress and chaos and presenting you with a simple, unvarnished answer.

You were a mess, and he was telling you to fix it—no coddling, no pity, just a clear-eyed assessment of the situation. And somehow, that was exactly what you needed to hear. You appreciated him for it.

"Decompress, huh. I don't believe I've ever done such a thing." You leaned back in your chair with a lopsided grin, arms crossed. "Is that what you do? Jump in the lake?"

Tom let out a huff, the corners of his mouth twitching upward in what was almost—almost—a smile.

"Something like that."

Interesting—Tom Riddle, always so composed, every inch of him meticulously put together, as if the mere idea of stress was a foreign concept. You couldn't imagine him spiralling, not the way you did—frankly, you couldn't imagine him ever feeling overwhelmed at all.

The curiosity gnawed at you, wondering what he did to unwind—what rituals or habits did the untouchable Tom Riddle indulge in when no one was watching?

"Something else, then?" You pushed it further, gently, your eyebrow arching just slightly.

For a moment, his gaze flickered, something dark and inscrutable passing behind his eyes. You knew he was considering your words, debating whether to indulge your curiosity or keep you at arm's length. Such a fascinating creature he was—all brick walls and boarded windows—you had a feeling he was going to shut this down.

Until, he leaned forward.

"If you're asking if I have habits—I suppose I do," he said, your eyes drawn to the way his lips moved, the way his voice curled around each syllable. "Habitual things I do to—relax, let's say."

You hummed and pulled your lower lip between your teeth as you considered him—fighting to hide your amusement. That was the biggest personal moment you've had out of Tom Riddle since the day you met him in first year where he told you his name.

"Well, isn't that a revelation," you teased, toying with the edge of your skirt. "Just the mere insinuation that Tom Riddle has to do something to relax—as though he's not always cool, calm, and collected like he lets on."

His lips curled slightly at your words, his gaze dipping briefly from your eyes to your mouth, trailing lower in a slow, deliberate sweep that brushed over your chest before landing back on the desk.

Your brain buffered, tingles in the wake of his wrath. He picked up his quill, spinning it idly between his fingers. 

"Everyone has their vices—if they don't, they end up like you," he said, his tone laced with an ambiguity that made you wonder just how deep his ran. "Perhaps it's time you found some."

You scoffed, leaning further back in your chair, the fabric of your shirt pulling tighter across your chest. You forced yourself to ignore the visceral reaction your body had as you caught the brief flicker in Tom’s gaze—the way his eyes darted up to the movement before he quickly masked his expression.

For a moment, you thought you might be imagining things, but the tensing of your thighs betrayed a reaction you couldn't quite shake.

"And what are yours?" You asked after a moment, your voice softer now. Tom Riddle was many things, but he was not a conversationalist—and yet here he was, indulging your curiosity instead of shutting it down. He was humouring you, and you intended to make the most of it. "Decompressing with bland tea and ancient tomes? Sneaking into the Restricted Section when no one's looking?"

“Mm, no.” Tom let out a snort, a hint of a smirk playing on his lips— "I’d say my vices are less...pedestrian, than all that."

The quill in his fingers stilled—the change in his demeanour was subtle, though you felt it in the air—electric, making your pulse quicken. He traced the edge of the feather with the tip of his thumb, the motion slow and deliberate, and you found yourself inexplicably distracted, fighting the urge to shift in your seat.

Why in Merlin's name was that so damn captivating?

"Less pedestrian?" You echoed, curiosity at an all-time-high. "What do you do, then, Tom? Dance naked by the light of the full moon?"

"I should hope not," he laughed—a low, rumbling sound that resonated in the pit of your stomach as you giggled alongside him. The quill twirled again in his fingers, the motion languid, almost hypnotic. "No, I'd say my vices are more...private. Less suited to polite company. Perhaps I should let you guess since the mystery of it seems to fascinate you so."

The look he gave you made you stiffen, a challenge—no, a dare—clear in his deep, dark eyes. Your thighs involuntarily reacted again—less suited to polite company?

"I believe I've already made several guesses," you tried to compose yourself with a shallow inhale. "I'm quite at a loss."

He shook his head, stifling his grin. "Clearly, you lack imagination."

"Clearly, you enjoy being cryptic." You shot back, unable to stifle yours.

At that, he hummed—it was obvious your stubbornness was as entertaining to him as it was aggravating. Perhaps you could say the same. He set the quill down, his eyes on yours as the fingers of his free hand began to tap idly on the desk—and then his gaze dipped again, tracing the curve of your lips before drifting lower, a slow, deliberate path that made you tense.

For a moment, you wondered if the tension in the air was all in your head. Was he always this adventurous with his eyes?

"When the mind is under strain," he began, his voice smooth, clinical, "it's a result of an excessive influx of neural signals. Synapses misfire, disrupting cognitive function. A basic physiological response." He watched your reaction closely, as though gauging the impact of his words. "To address such a state, one must reestablish control over these neural pathways. To be direct, I find the most efficacious methods involve tasks that stimulate the senses without being emotionally or physically taxing. A simple, repetitive action can suffice—something arbitrary enough to encourage the subconscious to lose focus."

You fought the urge to scowl at his change in speech—Tom knew damn-well just how overwhelmed your brain was—and then continued to recite scientific jargon as if it were his full-time occupation.

You’d almost be mad if it weren’t for the fucking words that stuck to the inside of your ears—stimulate, repetitive, lose focus—

"You're a walking textbook, aren't you?" You continued to play it off—you didn't want to make assumptions—you hated the way he danced around the edges of things, never quite saying what he meant. "Be specific."

Tom's grin grew as he leaned in slightly, his fingers stilling on the desk between you. "I find tasks that involve the hands particularly useful. Something that can be repeated in a smooth, steady rhythm, with little conscious thought required. The ability to lose oneself in the pattern is key."

Merlin help you—the atmosphere in his dorm had changed with those words; the air turned viscous, cloying, each breath sticking in your throat like syrup—hands, steady rhythm, lose oneself—the words pulsed with implication, even if it was buried under layers of his typical, infuriating ambiguity.

He was absolutely referring to—no—no assumptions—

You swallowed hard, your mouth suddenly dry. "So...knitting?"

The words tumbled out, a weak attempt at humour to cut through the tension, but they hung lifeless in the air—as hollow as the chuckle that rumbled from Tom's chest.

His eyes traced over you, lingering in a way that made your skin prickle. "Not exactly."

"Hm. A different kind of needlecraft, perhaps." You shifted in your seat, trying to inject a semblance of nonchalance into your posture.

But you weren't fooling him—you never had—

"How much longer are you going to play coy?" He murmured, the amusement clear from light-years away.

Heat surged up your neck, the flush burning across your cheeks, betraying you—"how much longer are you going to continue holding your tongue?"

Your voice came out sharper than intended, laced with a challenge you barely felt capable of meeting. You and Tom had always been cordial, the slight suggestive comment here and there, mostly from your end. But this—oh, this was different—this was uncharted territory.

He leaned in slightly, his voice dropping to a low, dangerous purr. "Would you prefer I do something else with it?"

Oh, fuck yes you would—

"You're being obtuse," you practically choked out, though the words lacked the bite you intended. "Entirely vague."

"I'm being clear," he countered, his gaze never wavering. "But you're being obstinate—willfully ignorant to my meaning because you refuse to acknowledge it without me saying it outright."

The air between you dissipated—you tried to grasp for a coherent thought, something to regain your footing, but your mind faltered, stumbling over the implications of what he was saying. His eyes never left yours—and you watched them deepen in colour, black pupils eating away the rich brown of his irises, darkening with something that made the room feel unbearably small.

You could feel the heat rising in your body, pooling low in your belly. How did he do this to you? How did he turn you inside out with nothing more than words and that infuriating, knowing smile?

"Tell me," you breathed, hating how desperate the words sounded, "what do you do with your hands, Tom?...how do you use them to relieve...stress?"

The second those words left your lips you realized what was truly happening here—Tom Riddle never did anything without intent—every word, every pause, every smirk, was a thread in a web he was weaving, intricate and inescapable. He'd led you here, gently, subtly, with the barest hint of force, and now that you were caught, you realized that you wanted this.

Needed it.

And it was clear he did too. Otherwise you'd never have gotten to this point—he wanted you to push, to dig deeper—your stomach twisting as you watched Tom wet his lips, but there was no smirk on them this time.

Only something intense—jaw set, eyes focused—

"I think we both know what I do with my hands," he whispered, the double entendre clear in every syllable— "you knew exactly what I was insinuating the moment this started."

Your breath snagged in your throat, a tremor running through your entire body as the warmth pooling in your belly began to spread, sinking lower, threading through every nerve. Your vision narrowed, centering entirely on him—his eyes, the curve of his lips, the way his presence seemed to devour the room, leaving no space for anything else.

And then, you nodded, the movement barely there—a subtle acknowledgment of your understanding.

"Do you touch yourself, Tom?..." the words escaped you, a soft, breathy whisper that you could hardly believe were your own. "Or do you touch someone else?"

For a heartbeat, everything seemed to freeze, suspended in the intensity of those questions.

The world narrowed to the point of his gaze, the sharp line of his jaw—the reality of where you were, what you were doing, almost seemed to blur—trapping you both in a moment that felt surreal, like a scene caught in the still frame of a film. Never—never—had you imagined a conversation like this with Tom Riddle, hardly your acquaintance, the untouchable genius of the school.

And yet here you were, heart pounding, every nerve on fire, and Merlin help you, you were going to wring every drop of this out for as long as you could.

He swallowed, and you watched the movement, entranced. "Depends on my level of stress."

Tom's expression was unreadable—except for the subtle tension in his shoulders as he leaned back, spreading his legs a fraction wider, the fabric of his dress shirt straining against the flex of his biceps—

"...and how stressed are you right now?" You whispered, reckless, without a trace of restraint.

Tom's throat bobbed with another swallow, a gesture so simple yet so charged that it sent your pulse roaring in your ears.

"Quite," he murmured, his voice taut, stretched thin. "The past four hours have been rather taxing—wouldn't you agree?”

A nervous laugh bubbled up, escaping before you could stop it. You tried to steady yourself, drawing in a slow, shaky breath. You had never felt so intensely aroused and frustrated in your life, and you knew, without a bloody doubt, that he was perfectly aware of it.

"Are you trying to imply l'm the cause of your stress?"

"On the contrary," he said, his gaze raking over you, his eyes dark and hungry, as if you were something to be consumed, devoured whole. "I'm saying you've exacerbated it. Though I'll concede a fair share of the responsibility—as it is mine, after all."

"How kind of you," you whispered, voice trembling with the effort to maintain composure. "To admit your own fault in the matter."

"I'm a kind man." His voice was a low purr, the kind that seeped into your bones, making your blood thrum with anticipation. "I like to take responsibility for my shortcomings."

Yes, yes—so very kind—

"Then take it."

The words left your mouth before you could second-guess them, a challenge thrown into the thick, suffocating air between you. The tension was a living thing now, colled tight, ready to snap, turning your insides into a churning mess of want and need.

Tom arched an eyebrow.

"Take it?" He echoed. "And what exactly do you want me to take, sweetheart?"

Sweetheart.

The pet name rolled off his tongue with a casual ease that sent a flush of heat straight to your core— the simple word wielded like a weapon, striking you down with its intimacy. There was no denying the power that name held over you, especially when coming from his lips.

"The responsibility..." you whispered, the words trembling as they left you, barely more than a breath. "…for your..." you hesitated, your eyes locked onto his as you finally said, "…shortcomings."

For a moment, everything hung in the balance—until, oxygen extinct, Tom leaned forward, closing the space between you until he was so close you could feel the heat radiating off him, mingling with your own.

Curse this fucking desk between you.

"My shortcomings," he repeated, his eyes flicking to your lips. "Is that all I should take responsibility for?"

"Are you suggesting..." you leaned in as well, the distance between you shrinking to a breath—your gaze drawn to his own mouth—the plush of it, how bad you wanted to feel it against yours, "...there's something else you wish to take responsibility for?"

Said mouth curled into the faintest hint of a smile and witnessing the shift this close felt dangerously religious—as though you'd experienced something sacred not many have before—part of you knew you did.

"Many things," he whispered, the sound soft as velvet, dangerous as a blade. "The list is long and varied..."

The heat in your body was painful—you had never been this close to him, never felt the full weight of his presence bearing down on you like this. His cologne—faint, rich, and so distinctly Tom—overwhelmed you, the same scent he'd worn since you first met him.

It was infuriating, how everything he did was so subtle, simple—yet so fucking intoxicating, so irresistible.

"...I'm not quite sure where to start." His eyes flicked back to yours.

Every word that fell from his lips was a new form of torture, his dark eyes pinning you in place, searing into you. The heat radiating from his body made you want to retreat, to find air, to find space—but the thought of putting any distance between you was unbearable, the need to be near him overriding everything else.

You'd rather lose consciousness than pull back.

"Why don't you start..." you whispered, tilting your head, your teeth grazing your bottom lip. "By fixing the insatiable ache in my curiosity...the one you created when you mentioned how you use your hands...to relieve stress..."

He exhaled, the sound rumbling from his chest like a growl and you could almost imagine that if he parted his lips, you'd glimpse fangs behind them right now—you'd never seen him like this—his gaze predatory, fucking ravenous, and it was as though he could devour you whole if he so chose to.

But you knew better. Tom Riddle would never be so crude. His methods of torment were deliberate—Methodical. A slow depletion of your senses until you're gasping for something only he can give you.

Then, in a voice that was all gravel and silk, he whispered, "is that all that's aching...your...curiosity?"

"Gods no—"

But you never finished that thought—because in an instant, his hand was tangled in your hair, pulling you forward with a force that sent you careening over the desk and into him—Tom Riddles lips crashed against yours, and it was like drowning, his tongue invading your mouth, stealing your breath and dragging all ounces of your cognitive ability along with it.

You were half out of your chair, caught in the gravity of him, unsure if your legs were even working, or if it was his grip alone that held you upright. His free hand found your wrist, pinning it to the desk as his mouth worked you with a fervour that made your head spin. The kiss was incendiary, a wildfire scorching its way through every nerve in your body, leaving nothing but ashes in its wake—the intensity of it, the sheer, unrelenting pressure of his lips on yours, made you wonder how you survived this long without it.

All the heat in your blood pooled low, deep between your thighs, an ache so profound it threatened to consume you. Tom Riddle was about to show you precisely how he used his hands to relieve stress, and Gods, if that wasn’t the only thing you’d ever needed right now.

[chatsukimi]

ɪ ᴡᴀɴᴛ ᴛᴏ ꜱᴇᴇ ʏᴏᴜ

gojo satoru rarely takes his glasses off. in his own world of infinity, you suppose real life is somewhat boring.

you couldn't be more wrong.

you're sitting across from gojo, a jacuzzi separating you. he has dipped his feet into the pool of clear water, the ripples cascading to your legs. noticing them, he looks up.

the first thing he thinks is woah.

the sight of you in a bathing suit stuns him temporarily, his heart clattering faster. but he musters up a cocky smile before strolling forward, putting on his black sunglasses, imitating one of those old men in sunnies staring down at you.

"arrived early, did we?"

you hum, craning your head up. your hand finds his neck, pulling his lips onto yours with a smile.

"you got me." your fingers catch his lightless specs and pull them from his ears. "let me see you."

you don't know what you're doing to him right now. he chuckles, rubbing his nape with a hint of awkwardness, when all he wants to do is take you in right there. he's never been in a relationship before, so he doesn't know if he can check you out so freely.

"you miss me so much?" he teases, though on the inside he's screaming.

goddammit, why did you take his glasses? he forces his gaze on your face- breathtaking, yes, but hardly the only thing that's begging his attention. he tries to keep his stare minimal, yet his lips part unconsciously. he stares at the only partial alternative to satiating his want: your lips.

noticing your boyfriend's gaze, a devilish idea pops into your head.

after geto and shoko arrive, the four of you talk casually in the relaxing hot water. gojo resumes his usual cocky self. an hour or so passes before you decide to switch to the living room.

"gojo, do you know where's the bathroom? i wanna shower."

wet feet plopping in tow through the winding hallways, you feel his gaze boring into the back of your skull. but as you enter, he stops by the door. you turn around, feigning oblivious.

"can you grab me a towel?"

ever eager to please, gojo quickly strides down the hallway for a towel, while you strip and enter the shower. when he comes back, listening to the sound of water, he waits by the door.

"gojo, pass the towel," you call.

he's so glad you don't have the six eyes right now, because he can feel his cursed energy spiralling. "w-what?"

"i said, pass me the towel."

his eyes widen. hovering over the doorknob, he swallows his other thoughts, shuffling into the bathroom, one feet after another, gaze pasted onto the floor.

your hand comes out, waving as though you have no idea where he is. he shoves the object into your hand before you step out, towel wrapped around you. with that, he immediately turns to leave, but not before noticing the devious little smile on your lips, possibly from his reaction.

fuck him, he thinks.

suddenly fingers enclose on his wrist, his limitless shut off from the distraction.

"can you dry my hair?" you say, polite, and in that soft tone you know he can't say no to.

his hands stagger over your head, gripping another towel, drying this part then the next. clunky. he's never touched someone else much before, and it shows.

what entertains you most, however, is the way he's forcing his eyes on his hand and nowhere else, focusing like it's his lifetime.

"done," he mumbles.

at last, you look up at him. he's wearing an uncharacteristically stern face, clearly holding himself back.

you ask, "do you want to say something?"

fuck. him. he lets out a shallow breath. how could you stand there batting your lashes like nothing's wrong, when you're making his hands run over you, yet not in the way he wants to.

"you demon woman. you know what you're doing."

you appear to be pondering, too, what you might be thinking. one of your hands tap at his chest, the space above his heart.

"tell me. what am i doing?"

his hand holds yours, keeping it against him. "you're tempting me."

you tilt your head to the side and you swear, he chokes a little. "and who's holding back, hmmm?"

...

2 years later

"gojo satoru, where have you put my towel??" your voice screeches from the shower.

leaning beside the bathroom door, the most annoyingly handsome man croons, "i've got it right here."

"give it to me. right now."

he shakes his head to himself. you still haven't learnt your lesson, it seems. he saunters over to the shower with the fluffy white towel in his grip. your hand pokes out. he clicks his tongue.

"baby, come on out."

an automatic groan claws its way from your throat and he chuckles, finding part of your unspoken shyness endearing.

"it's nothing that i haven't seen before," he adds, as though that'll make it better.

you feel your cheeks grow hot even with the excess steam. you know if he wanted to, he could step right into the shower and join you, but satoru seems to be in a lighter mood today.

regardless, you don't anticipate the effortless way the towel encases you as you step out. he wraps the cloth around you with care, the motion simultaneously tugging you closer to him. you let out a small gasp in comfort. to that, he snickers quietly by your ear, which provokes a half scowl from you. you look like a bunny in that oversized thing.

you mutter under your breath, "how did i get stuck with you..?"

he hums in response. "you're just too lucky."

he uses another towel to dry your hair. a thought courses through your brain- it's not like it matters much, but gojo satoru is really good at what he does. once he has experience in something, it's like the talent in his body simply activates, and the smooth sensation on your scalp dissipates.

this time, however, he doesn't announce his completion. instead, he tugs you casually against his chest. his hand skilfully cups your jaw, holding your gaze against his.

it's unfair, how the sight of his blue eyes send a seering level of need into your system. your hands find his shoulders to steady yourself and the towel begins to fall.

"wanna see you," he says, his stare roaming over you, unabashedly ravenous.

and finally, with experience, he does.

[moonstruckme]

Hi lovie a lil request if u pls! I would love to see Sirius (but could also be down with one of the other boys if ur not feeling him) with a gf who has a migraine and just him doting on her

alternatively could also do it's like early in the relationship and she tries to hide it from him?

Thanks for requesting!

cw: modern au, migraine

Sirius Black x fem!reader ♡ 997 words

You decide to text Sirius rather than braving the lights and sounds of the living room. You keep your phone brightness on low, clicking your screen off as soon as it’s sent. 

Do you have any painkillers I could use?

You feel guilty for commandeering Sirius’ bedroom like this. You’re supposed to be cooking dinner together, but when you came home with the groceries you’d asked meekly if he’d mind if you napped for a while. He offered to make it himself so it’ll be ready when you get up. You sort of dread when that will be. You know you’d feel better back at your own place, but you don’t trust yourself to drive like this, with pain taking all your concentration and spots and lines flashing across your vision, so instead you’re spoiling the evening you and Sirius had planned together. Now you’re asking him to wait on you, too. 

Sirius doesn’t respond to your text, but you hear him moving. The soft thump of footsteps coming down the hall and the quiet sshk of a drawer coming open. 

“Just a nap, huh?” he murmurs as he comes into the bedroom. He sits by your knees on the bed, shaking a couple of pills into his hand. “Does something hurt, lovely?”

“Yeah,” you manage a hoarse whisper as he passes you the pills and the glass of water he’s brought you. “Sorry. My head.” 

“I thought something might be wrong,” he admits, keeping his voice low. “You got awfully quiet earlier. Why didn’t you say?”

You set the glass on his nightstand after downing the pills. Cover your eyes with the hand cool with condensation. “I’m sorry. I didn’t want to ruin our night.” 

Sirius tuts softly. “Don’t worry about that.” His hand finds your forehead, first feeling for a fever and then brushing a few pieces of hair back from your eyes, but he stops when your face tightens. “It’s quite bad?” 

You make a low humming sound. “It’s a migraine. I get them, sometimes.” 

“Oh, sweetheart.” Sirius takes his hand away from you, though by the pain in his voice it costs him to do it. “I’m sorry. What can I do?”

“I just need to lie with it for a bit. Hopefully it’ll calm down. I have things to help at home, but I don’t think I can make it there right now.” 

“What sort of things?” 

You tell him, admittedly somewhat short in your speech. Sirius doesn’t seem to mind. He leaves you to rest afterwards, and you hardly hear him again until nearly an hour later. You think dinner has to have long since been ready, but when Sirius comes back into his bedroom it’s not with food. 

You watch through slitted eyes as he creeps into the corner, plugging in a machine that starts billowing steam up into the room. He fiddles with it for a moment, and soon you’re aware of a familiar scent upon the air, floral and relaxing. 

“Did you get that from my place?” 

Sirius jumps, pressing a hand to his chest as he turns around. “Fuck, babe, I thought you were sleeping. No, I didn’t want to ask you to give me your key.” 

You look at the essential oil diffuser. “Huh. Looks just like mine.” 

“Well, good. Hopefully it’ll work just as well, then.” Sirius stands, typing something into his phone. “Do you think those binaural beats things will help right now, or will they keep you from falling asleep?” 

“M’not falling asleep anyway,” you mumble half bitterly, but your boyfriend only nods. He connects his phone to a small speaker and sets it by the bed. “Tell me you didn’t go buy a diffuser?”

Sirius looks at you, raising an eyebrow as a low, soothing thrum starts to emanate from the speaker on the nightstand. “Not sure what you want me to say then. Would you have rather I broke into your place to get one?”

“Sirius.” Your voice drops to a whisper. “You didn’t have to. That’s so sweet.” 

“Oh.” He brightens. “Good then. There’s a weighted mask in the freezer, too, by the way. Thought I’d give it a minute to chill first.” 

You’re starting to feel slightly teary, which isn’t really what you want during a migraine. “That’s really kind of you.” 

“Don’t mention it. Couldn’t have the world's loveliest girl suffering here in my own home, could I?” He smiles softly, looking like he’s going to reach for your face again before he stops himself. 

“You can touch me,” you say quietly. 

Sirius’ brows twitch together. “Yeah? Are you sure?” 

“Mhm. I feel a bit better than before.” 

“Could I kiss you as well?” 

You can’t stop your lips from curving, just a little. “Yeah.” 

Sirius smiles, too, pressing his lips gently to yours. He doesn’t stop there. “Better than before doesn’t seem quite well enough,” he murmurs as his affections grace your cheek, your closed eyelid, the space between your brows, “but we’ll get you there soon, I think. Remus sometimes has migraines, too. I called him and he said a massage might help, if it suits you. Just while your mask is getting cold.” 

“Yeah?” you ask on a breath. “I’ve never tried that.” 

“Do you wanna?”

You nod, and he gets you to roll onto your front, thumbs finding the tight muscles of your neck. It’s not a skillful massage, but Sirius is a quick learner, and soon you find the tension from your face to your shoulders relaxing from his ministrations. The air smells of lavender, the room pulses with a low, resounding hum, and Sirius’ touch bleeds affection into your skin. 

“Thank you for doing this,” you mumble, words slurred with relaxation. 

“Don’t know what you’re thanking me for,” he hums back. “I told you, I have the world’s loveliest girl right here in my own home. Great power comes with great responsibility and all that, right?”

You’re too enamored to even scoff.

[yanderefarm]

ooo yes actually bully emil a tad i love that

i request tying him up, blind fold and strip him, stroke him but dont let him cum, and teasing endlessly

cw;; edging, hair pulling, temperature play, bondage, impact play, cbt

oh no poor emi~ who on earth could let this happen.

emil's muscles flexed and tightened as your hand dragged him to the edge again. and then nothing. the proud king sobbed.

you had been at this for hours at this point. your pretty little husband bound up tightly with lovely red ropes. you had used his long hair against him and tied it to a hook above his head keeping him from hiding under those golden locks. his eyes were covered in a thick black cloth that did nothing to catch the tears spilling down his cheeks but meant he had no hope of seeing what you were doing at any given moment. you alternated between dragging the king to the brink and punishing his body cruelly. his stomach and thighs were red and bruising from you whipping him until he calmed down. his chest had marks from you scratching and biting his skin with his nipples especially red from the clamps you had only recently removed.

you weren't about to show your arrogant husband any mercy. you waited for his body to calm down again before you wrapped your hand around his cock. your other hand grabbed an ice cube from a bucket near your bed but all emil could tell was the sound of things shifting. you smiled at the way his entire body flinched in anticipation.

"shhh baby, im going to soothe you." you cooed to him getting his body to relax into your slow gentle touch.

you let the ice melt in your hand before dripping the cold water over his tip. emil flinched again and his body instinctively pulled away from your hands. it was no use trying to escape you. you pressed the melting ice cube to his stomach and he whimpered like a bitch. his whole body was burning from your intimate acts so it didn't take long for the ice cube to melt completely.

generous as you were you immediately grabbed another, pressing it to his swollen red nipples. he let out a muffle cry as his body strained against his bonds. you didn't give him any break, your hand quickly pumping his cock as cold water spilled down his body.

"no-" he cried out so pathetically as more ice pressed into his body.

his squirming and writhing was useless. you pulled him closer to you by his cock as you grabbed more ice. the worst part for him was that he couldn't see where exactly your hands were going next, he couldn't brace himself for the cold. he didn't imagine you pressing the next ice cube against his red burning tip. his body jolted and jerked even as you still pumped his cock, the cold water coating his length as you moved.

his head rolled back as his soaked muscles flexed again with his orgasm approaching. you pulled your hands away but his sore cock still twitched and jerked as a thick drop of milky cum sadly dripped down his length.

"you came."

"n-no i didn't i pr-prom-"

you scooped up the cum that had spilled out of him and pressed it into his mouth, forcing him to lick up his mess. you returned your hand to his cock and gave him a hard flick to his aching tip. and then another. and another. until you heard him let out another pathetic bitch sob.

"stupid sluts don't deserve to cum."

[smoothlikealikeasnake]

Strawberry Princess Chapter Nine “Fox got your tongue?”

Pairing - OT7!BTS x Reader, Hybrid!BTS x Hybrid!Reader

Genre - Hybrid!Au , Hybrid BTS x Hybrid Reader, fluff, angst, eventual smut, slow burn? , alternative reality , strangers to lovers , strangers to friends, friends to lovers

Warnings - feelings of loneliness, slight angst, so much fluff, jimins a tease, lots of suggestive moments, sexual tension, lmk if there’s anything else!

Summary - When a certain hybrid starts to appear whenever Jungkook is at the gym, an immediate pull is felt between the two and their eventual friendship soon is spread to the rest of his pack.

Previous Next Overview

The next few days Jungkook and Y/n had their usual gym meets, she would sweetly hand him water and practically gawk over him the entire time with pink cheeks and fiddle with her fingers if she ever got caught looking, it made her want to swing her legs back and forth and watch him with heart eyes which she practically would do anyway. Around a week passed without meeting up outside of the gym when Y/n woke up one morning feeling particularly lonely, she couldn’t explain why she just got that feeling sometimes so she sent Jungkook a message asking to meet up, even for a few hours

‘I’m sorry princess, I have an all day client today’ - his words made her deflate as she was still curled up in bed, at that point just accepting she would be alone today

‘Joon is home today and you could spend the day with him?’ - those words had made her perk up, the idea made her shy as Namjoon’s presence always did, not in a bad way though which is why she agreed, on the terms that she wouldn’t be disturbing him at all as it was his free time. Jungkook assured her he would be happy to have her company and so she got up and got ready, dressing comfy in, a pleated skirt and a baby pink knit jumper with some Uggs and leg warmers for the cold.

‘Jin will pick you up soon princess’ - Y/n went to protest as she did have her own car but last time she had tried that she had gotten messages from 3 of the 7 after Jungkook, insisting she stay put because he was already on his way to get her and she had to admit she enjoyed being treated this way, maybe too much.

The ride with Jin was sweet as expected, they made small conversation before she fell asleep and was woken up once they arrived. She was surprised at his words once he opened the door however.

“Will you be okay to walk up yourself darling?” - The pet name made her heart flutter but she was more surprised that this was a stop on his way to a different place, feeling as if she had burdened him by having him pick her up, her face fell in worry but Jin was quick to continue

“I was driving by your apartment and past here on the way too, Joon is waiting for you” - He smiled gently at her with those plush lips and it melted her worries along with his words, she nodded at him and bounced over to hug and thank him. His chest was so broad it just made her feel warm inside when his arms wrapped around her. His hands lingered on her back for a moment longer than necessary and he couldn’t stop his eyes from travelling down to her smiling lips and wondering just how they felt, especially after the nest she left them. Y/n caught herself looking at his lips too and was mildly disappointed when she felt his hands leave her lower back. He watched until she had left through the elevator doors where she cleared her head and prepared herself to spend the day with Namjoon, that gorgeous wolf that made her blush everytime he spoke to her, purely from his aura and deep voice.

When she arrived at the door she only had to wait a moment before Namjoon was opening it, in much more casual clothes than usual, his black hair fluffy and parted in the middle with his glasses that he would adjust on his nose every so often. A loose pair of blue jeans and a t-shirt that should have fitted loosely but grew tight around his broad chest and toned arms, he looked far more relaxed than usual but he still made her feel shy as she felt her voice grow a tiny bit higher as she quietly greeted him and nearly tripped over her own feet as he let her in.

“Is there anything you wanted to do specifically?” - Joon was quite happy to do anything if he was spending time with her as he lead her to the living room about to sit down but stopped at her response

“What would you have done if I didn’t come over?” - Her voice was quiet, she refused to make eye contact because he just made her too shy and every time he spoke he put a blush on her face.

“I probably would have just read a book for a while” - Y/n wasn’t one to pick up a book herself usually but it certainly seemed relaxing to do or just to be around so she finally made eye contact with him, smiling up at him and nodding.

“Then let’s do that then, I just don’t want to be alone” - Those words seemed to make Joon quite happy as a dazzling smile took over his features, it pained him to think about her feeling lonely but knowing she was just happy with his company made him feel pride and he turned them around, hovering a hand over her back as he lead her down the hall to his personal office. It was neat, his desk slightly messy but the least interesting thing in the room as a large bookcase adorned the wall and a brown leather sofa with soft pillows and blankets thrown over it took up a good majority of the room, plants adding to the homey Namjoon-feel. Y/n looked at the sofa with glee, it seemed comfortable and she happily took a seat next to Joon on it, rubbing her hands over the soft pillow next to her.

Namjoon offered her a book, a short one that he particularly enjoyed while he picked up his own, she happily took it and looked over noticing her trying to stay put, shifting slightly but probably too shy to properly get comfortable so he stretched out himself, leaning against the arm rest and manspreading so he was more comfortable before telling her to do the same. It was like that was what she needed because her eyes lit up and she swung her legs up, tucking her legs and fluffy socked feet under herself, leaning against the back of the couch and happily purring quietly as she opened the book he gave her.

They sat in comfortable silence for a good half an hour before Y/n’s quiet purring got louder and the words on the page started to jumble, she tried her best to focus on the book but her gaze was stolen by Namjoon, observing the way his long fingers flipped the pages, his legs were spread to comfortably accommodate his thick thighs and his eyes were concentrated on the book infront of him. He looked up for a moment and Y/n’s gaze snapped back to the book, a guilty blush taking over her cheeks but he just smiled to himself and ignored it, leaving her to try to focus again and stare if she wished to.

It wasn’t long before Y/n’s eyes felt heavy, not having slept particularly well the night before as that feeling of loneliness set in, her head started to drop before she could realise it and she caught it after it did, trying to focus again with a rub of her eyes but Namjoon looked over, seeing her internal battle with sleep and thought for a moment. She had stared at his thighs for a good while since they had sat down and so he took his chance, patting the thigh closest to her and catching her attention.

“Go to sleep doll, I’ll wake you up in a while” - His tone was soft but it wasn’t an ask and her body complied before she could think, tied in with the new nickname that had heat rushing through her body, taking his patting on his thigh as an invite when she put the book on the table infront of her and layed her body down on her side, curling one of her legs up until she was closer to laying on her front than her side and putting her head on his thigh. Her hair splayed around her head and he didn’t disappoint, laying on his thick thigh made her reach one of her small hands up sleepily and hold on to him like he was some sort of comforting pillow. Her purring returned and it had Joon proud once again to see her so compliant and comfortable, the small hand gently kneeling just above his knee made him chuckle lowly before he took in the rest of her.

Y/n hadn’t even thought about the fact that she was wearing a skirt when she moved into this position and now her skirt was dangerously high, it was short as it was but now one slight movement would have her ass out. Her own thighs were definitely a sight as Namjoon resisted the urge to grip them and leave large hand marks on them like Jungkook had done unintentionally when they first met. Joon was a gentleman however, and while Y/n might not have noticed her close call to exposure, he did, he would have tugged down her skirt himself but she might not have been comfortable with that so he stopped himself, instead reaching for the blanket with one hand and draping it over her.

She mumbled out a happy ‘thank you joonie” and he only replied with a small chuckle and ‘so polite doll’ it made her preen and purr louder, wiggling in her position before she settled and dozed off. Namjoon got back to his book for a while before Y/n seemed to get hot and shifted, kicking off the blanket and making her skirt rise again in the process. The sight had him flustered this time as he could see the start of her ass and tops of her deliciously plush thighs but since she didn’t want the blanket and was still asleep, he reached his arm over and tugged at the hem of her skirt, being careful not to touch her before letting it fall back at the tops of her thighs, covering her back up as much as before. His hand didn’t go back to holding his book this time however as the book had shifted into his other hand, this time he rested it on her head, running his fingers over her scalp and effectively making her whine for more when he stopped. This time he buried his hand in her scalp, playing with her soft hair and rubbing circles, accidentally tugging at some times making her let out little gasps and having her body shiver with her scent sweetening when he did.

He loved how she reacted to every little touch, her cheeks adorning a permanent blush whenever he even spoke to her and even in her sleep she was purring and nuzzling into him. He avoided touching her ears no matter how much he wanted too, especially since she was asleep, perhaps when she was awake he might have grazed over them just to watch her fur stand up and hear her gasp out, shiver from his touch but that would have to wait.

The next hour would go just like that, Namjoon reading shile Y/n purred in her sleep and occasionally changing positions with soft huffs, her skirt riding up and Joon fixing it for her before his hand returned to her head, sometimes just resting there and sometimes running his hands through her curls. He’d noticed while she was moving that while he thought Y/n was wearing tights, she wasn’t, she was wearing thigh highs pulled right up as far as they would go, they stopped right under her ass and while she had been moving one of them had began to roll down at the top, digging in around the plush area. The more she moved the more they rolled down and her skirt rided up even when he adjusted it, he kept seeing glimpses of her white panties under the skirt and would snap his attention away and quickly pull the skirt down again, tyy trying his best to forget the image for Y/n’s sake. He was blissed out with her strawberry scent so close and sweet, as relaxed as he could be, his own chest rumbling happily and his rough tail urging to latch around her or her waist and keep her there forever.

Joon had lost focus on his book and hadn’t even realised until Y/n started to twist, more than she had before this time, turning inwards to face him before her short arms reached out to hug his stomach, using her grip to tug herself closer - still well asleep - until her face was flush against him and breathing him in deep. Namjoon froze with the movement looking like he was caught as his hands rose to not disturb her, feeling her cheek rubbing against him and her arms tighten, her purrs getting louder and legs rubbing together happily. She was warm against him even through their layers of clothing, her scent sweetened with the proximity and Joons chest rumbling louder started to vibrate her body, it seemed to make her even happier as her body squirmed to get closer, tucking her knees to her chest and tightening her arms, he could feel her lips pull up into a smile and it made his heart tighten in adoration, only making his chest rumble louder.

As she stopped moving, his hand fell down again, this time falling to her waist and gently tracing it with the tips of his fingers before resting it there, despite Joons racing heart he stayed put in the position for another 15 minutes, back to his reading.

Y/n felt warm, in a good way, her body was softly vibrating but not from her own purrs, her hands were tight in a soft cotton and arms around something firm but oh so comforting. She found her hands loosening and tightening over and over, pushing and pulling the fabric between them and her brain was flooded with a scent so rich, and masculine that she felt hazy. She was curled up, feet twisted over eachother and she felt small; that was the work of Namjoons hand though, large and resting over a big area of her waist, she really did feel like a doll but in the best way. Her eyes fluttered open and she was met with the sight of Namjoons shirt, she could feel his every breath, her head was at the crook of his thigh and turned up in a way that should be uncomfortable but wasn’t with the way she felt in that moment.

It took her a moment to truly realise she had curled up to the wolf hybrid, slung herself into his stomach and nearly curled into his lap just like a cat. Embarrassment and hesitation ran through her in an instant as she stilled, not knowing what to do, how he felt about it all or how she’d moved here. Namjoon sensed her change in an instant, how her body tensed but instead of pulling away her hands gripped his shirt tighter, she twitched and let out a shaky breathe as she seemed to brace herself to pull away almost as if it would hurt her to do so. That’s when Namjoon realised she didn’t want to pull away, she was worried about how he felt, so he took his own actions from that.

The hand on her waist, once gently resting, now tightened until he was holding onto her, keeping her from moving as easily while his other hand dropped his book and pushed his fingers into her scalp, scratching at it gently and just slightly grazing over the base of her ear sending a shiver down Y/n’s body as she gasped into his stomach. Her body relaxed again, purring lowly at his encouragement, not even needing any more but he gave it to her happily.

“You have a nice nap doll?” - His smooth voice got a nod and muffled ‘yes’ that he happily chuckled to,

“Thank you” - Y/n’s voice was quiet and muffled, she didn’t know what she was thanking him for exactly but she just felt like she wanted to tell him, for the way he was making her feel. Namjoon only cooed at her sweetness and brushed his fingers over the base of her ears again making her push closer to his hand and grip his shirt harder.

“Please?” - Y/n got shy and refused to open her eyes as she pushed her head closer to his hand, pleading him to pet at her ears, she felt him stop for a moment before shivers coursed through her body and her mouth fell open just a little because his fingers traced over her ears intentionally and then gently rubbed at the base. Y/n’s breath got caught in her throat, muffled gasps and twitching falling over her body. Joon could feel his hybrid counterpart growing cocky and filling up with pride at having her so happy to be under his hands, her gasps were so sweet and he felt like he was missing something when her arms moved from their position and she pushed herself up, a dopey smile on her face as she sat up, legs tucked under herself and knees against his thigh.

“Can I-Can I do the same?” - Her words were quiet as she looked up at his own head of hair and ears, since she moved Joon’s hand that was on her waist had dropped onto her thigh, they were warm and so soft, his hands, as large as they were, couldn’t cover the entirety of one of them and practically sunk into her skin. Y/n’s own hands were twitching as she held back, waiting for his response before making a single move.

“Go ahead doll” - to emphasise his approval Joon dropped his head down and lightly squeezed her thigh, she made a happy sound and leaned forward on her knees, reaching her hands into his hair and running them through the soft strands before slowing down to graze over his wolf ears, she expected it to be coarse since the fur looked thick but it was impossibly soft, she tried to shuffle her knees in closer but found she couldn’t move and just leant her body closer making happy little noises despite not being able to get in as close as she wanted too. Even in his bliss, Namjoon could feel her struggle with her position, even if her movements were pleasing him so much that he had to hold back growls of approval and instead just hold onto her thigh tighter. She was happy but clearly wanted to be closer so Namjoon took his opportunity, moving both hands to rest on her waist and easily pulling her over his lap, her thighs straddling his own as she squeaked in surprise before getting right back to her original task, fingers threading into each soft strand again.

“Better?” - Namjoons voice came out rougher than usual but Y/n let out a noise of approval, far too distracted with his soft locks and perfect ears, Namjoons hands dropped onto her thighs and Y/n shuffled even closer in response, Namjoons head was still dropped down because even on his lap, Y/n wasn’t level with him.

When Y/n’s hands hit one particular spot on his ears, Join let out a harsh breathe and groaned, luckily Y/n took it as a good thing and continued right there, it had Joon huffing out breaths and gripping onto her thighs particularly hard before rubbing over them to soothe them again, not that Y/n minded at all.

“How are they so soft?” - Her voice trailed off almost dreamily, like she was enchanted by his ears and the rumble in Joons chest threatened to come out louder this time.

“Yoongs, Jin and Jimin are particularly attentive to our ears and tails, they do a good job at keeping them nice” - Joons voice came out rough again, not minding to change it at all and once Y/n processed each of the words her hand stilled only for a moment. The first name had shocked her, never really thinking he would be the type but in a weird way it made sense

“Yoongi?” - She felt like perhaps it was an occasion thing like very irregular thing with him but he just happened to be good at it so she had to ask.

“Oh yes doll, he might not seem like it but if you went and lay over his lap and handed him a brush, he wouldn’t question it for a second, he’ll do his own version of purring so loud you can hear and feel it rooms away and sometimes his claws even come out.” - Y/n couldn’t help the shocked and intrigued expression that sat on her face from his words but when she really thought about it she could definitely see that, not saying anything just like how he’d ignored her constant attempts to annoy him and instead just acting.

Their proximity and shared warmth was creating a mood in the room that could only be described as heavenly, their scents tied together were the perfect contrast, just as they found with any of the 7s scents together or with Y/n’s and without realising, they were both relaxing and falling into eachother more and more until Y/n was flush against him, Joon’s head sitting into the crook of her neck and breathing her in, Y/n had been dwelling on the other twos reaction towards grooming and Joon seemed to read her mind, words just a tad muffled and rough as his warm breaths hit her neck enough to make her shiver, her hands still scratching at his ears.

“Jimins the gentlest of the three, Yoongi has rougher hands even if he is as gentle as he ever could be and Jin- Jin isn’t as gentle as the other two but it’s not in a bad way, trust me no where near.“ - Joon didn’t give any more context than that, instead just nuzzling into Y/n’s neck and salivating at her scent so close to his lips.

Joon’s ears twitched in Y/n’s hands making her giggle, it was because someone had just opened the front door, making their way down the hall and into a different room. He knew he’d eventually find out who it was and despite his urge as the head of the pack to go see exactly who it was, his current position was too good to give up. Besides, he could feel the mark on his chest over his heart and the mark on his shoulder tingling so he knew exactly who was home.

“Joonie? What’s the hierarchy like in the pack?” - The question completely caught him off guard, every small movement coming to a stop but he didn’t hesitate to answer after he’d processed her question.

“How do you think it goes?”

“You, Hoseok, Jungkook, Yoongi, Taehyung, Jimin, Jin?” - that answer made him chuckle lowly, the sound and feeling sending shivers down Y/n’s spine

“It goes me, Jin, Hoseok and Yoongi on the same level, Jungkook, Taehyung, Jimin” - His response had her shocked, completely frozen as she thought about it realising she was actually really far off

“But you’ll see that for yourself in due time won’t you, doll” - The last word rolled off his tongue teasingly and the deep and gravely tone of his voice made Y/n’s skin bristle especially tied in with his hot breath on her skin and insinuation behind his words

“I have a feeling you’ll fall after Jimin, don’t you agree doll?” - That caught her breath in her throat, any response she had died on her tongue as she unintentionally whined and gripped his hair, pulling just a little while the rest of her body melted, that implication making her body pliant in Namjoons hands, he chuckled into her neck, holding her thighs tighter, she felt even smaller in his arms now, the only movement she made was to press her nose into his own neck, take in a deep breath having her sighing and nodding a few times.

It felt amazing to be considered as even a potential part of their pack, more than amazing actually it was euphoric. Y/n could of just frozen time there and never moved forward but unfortunately, their moment was interrupted, truthfully she didn’t mind all that much but she just didn’t want to leave, to move.

“Y/n? I knew I could smell you, I didn’t expect you here today” - Jimin came into the room after creeping the door open, rushing up to the twos side and not even acknowledging Joon, in a way that would usually make him growl but he just couldn’t care in that moment. Jimin stood next to them, not moving to take Y/n off Joon’s lap at all because it was just too sweet of a sight, too good of a smell too.

“Y/n wanted some company, isn’t that right doll?” - Joon addressed her without taking his head out of her neck, squeezing her thighs to encourage her to reply. Her hands tightened in his hair before she slipped her head to the side to take in Jimin, that really didn’t help her state as he was in all black with diamond accents on his clothes and jewellery to match, it made that shy demeanour come back all over again and she just questioned how he could possibly be the lowest in their hierarchy, that made her shiver and her response died on her tongue, just taking him in.

Jimin on the other hand, realised the situation he had walked into and his eyes darkened, finding it all too amusing as he lent down to meet Y/n’s eyes, his chain dangling in her face.

“Has Joon done well baby?” - His use of a pet name tied in with his current look made her lips part just slightly in awe, she nodded at him looking starstruck but Jimin clearly wasn’t satisfied with that, following up her nodding

“Tell him then” - Y/n was so compliant, not even hesitating as her body took over for her rather than her mind, turning back to Joon who had taken his head out of her neck and was looking down at her again.

“Did so good thank you Joonie” - both men just felt a shiver go down their own spines, the grips on her thighs tightening again, his fingers dipping into the plush flesh, Jimins eyes dropped down to watch it too. The room felt hot in their small space, all three of their eyes glazed over with something almost primal.

Their moment was cut to a stop when Yoongi’s deep voice came from the doorway, he had gotten home and changed before making everyone a snack.

“Come eat” - His tone was as nonchalant as usual and he didn’t hang around to wait for them, just going back to the living room where they would soon follow. Jimin helped Y/n off Joon’s lap and stopped her from stumbling by slipping an arm around her waist and holding her to his chest. Leaning down to whisper in her ear to follow Yoongi and she did so without another word, blindly following out the hallway. Joon let out a huff in his position before throwing his body back against the sofa to regain his composure, Jimin could only laugh at him slightly before leaving after Y/n.

Y/n made herself comfortable on the sofa and Yoongi handed her a fruit bowl without another glance, 3 more sitting on the table for himself, Joon and Jimin. Y/n happily thanked him and immediately reached for a strawberry, it was sweet and juicy making her hum happily as it hit her tongue. Yoongi took a seat next to her, Namjoon and Jimin sitting on the other couch and everyone eating the snack Yoongi prepared. All the fruit was sweet and ripe, Y/ns tail swung happily and she failed to notice the juice falling from her lip until Yoongi reached over, wiping it off with her thumb. She watched as he brought the thumb to his mouth, sucking off the juice that was just on her own lips and a blush fell over her face, watching him lean back and lazily smile to himself at not only the fruit juice but also the added sweetness of Y/n.

Yoongi looked over and saw Y/n just staring, frozen in her state with a hand above the bowl, about to grab another piece but not moving, she was doe eyed and her mouth was gaping just a little. He was almost taken back by her stare, he took a deep breath before composing himself and holding her chin to make sure she was listening.

“Eat.” - There wasn’t room for questioning in his tone, nor for Y/n to act playfully like she usually did towards Yoongi, instead she just looked at her bowl when he let her go and did as he said. She particularly liked the pieces of tangerine, peeled and ready to eat, they were ripe and had a strong flavour that reminded her of the man next to her, his hair was messy and long, she just wanted to run her hands through it and she wanted to know how his sleek ears felt, how his thick and long black tail would slip through her hands. Now she couldn’t focus on the juice slipping between her lips for an entirely different reason, Yoongi was just too effortlessly attractive, her eyes slipped down from his hair to his arms, biceps out from the short sleeve he wore, they were thick and pale, her eyes followed to the lower part of his arm and hands, covered in veins and toned, his fingers long and pale. The fruit juice had slipped from her mouth down her chin and started to run down her neck, chewing slowly focused on how Yoongi was peeling a tangerine.

He knew she was staring again, he didn’t expect her to be so dazed just by him sitting there but it was amusing how her teasing and playful facade had just melted away, he assumed it was from whatever happened between her Joon and Jimin in Joon’s office and he wasn’t complaining. He turned around and saw a dazed Y/n, fruit juice trailed down her neck from her slowly chewing mouth before she swallowed under his gaze, lips glistening again.

He couldn’t hold back the low chuckle that fell out, capturing the gaze of the two on the other couch. Yoongi’s hand fell down to Y/n’s nice, starting from the base and cupping it without any pressure, moving it up to get the juice the fell down, his fingers slipped over her scent glands and made Y/n’s eyes flutter shut in a silent gasp before they opened again, just as Yoongi lifted her fingers to her mouth, giving her a hard look that she understood instantly, mouth falling open letting the tips of his fingers onto her tongue. They were sweet and sticky but cold and slim, felt so nice to Y/n that her eyes closed again, tongue swirling around the fingers as she let out a muffled whine so sweet it made all 3 of the hybrids watching shudder.

“Messy Kitten” - His voice was quiet and rasped with every syllable, the words seeming to snap something in her mind leading to her next actions.

As Yoongi was taking back his hand, not wanting to push too far, Y/n purposefully nibbled at his fingers with her sharp fangs, scraping over the delicate skin and opening her eyes to catch his reaction with that playful glint back in her eye. She was always testing his boundaries, even in her moments when he thinks she’s just being so sweet and instead of pulling away faster, he let her, tapping the sharp little points with the tips of his fingers making her eyes widen as she hadn’t expected it. She tried to bite down, not giving up on her goal to annoy him, a goal she had made internally when they met, Yoongi seemed to see it coming though and swiped his hand back faster than she could process making her bite down on her own teeth, a click sound heard around them as he just raised an eyebrow at her in challenge.

Y/n flashed him a smile showing off the little fangs, it was funny to him just how much she really tried to test him, he wasn’t aware of why she really did it but it seemed like it was her instincts. That’s why all he did in retaliation was flash her a smile right back, his much larger canines showing off speaking volumes about how much more powerful he really was in many ways, her own smile faltered just a bit as she took in the fangs, her skin rising in goosebumps at the display, her own fangs were small, razor sharp but very small and the same size as her other teeth while Yoongi’s were visibly larger, pulling down longer than his other teeth and dangerously pointy. She hadn’t noticed them before, never exactly looking for them but now that she had seen them, her hybrid was urging her to just lay back, show her belly and bare her neck in submission, she refrained from it in embarrassment as heat rose up her neck at the urge, instead just feeling her tail whip around behind her.

All three of the other hybrids would practically read her mind, seeing and smelling exactly how she was feeling and guessing her thoughts. Yoongi didn’t need her to really do what she wanted to for him to praise her, reaching over and ruffling her hair, patting her head over and feeling her push up into his hand. She desperately wanted him to pet her, to scratch at the base of her ears and it made her chase his cold hand up when he pulled away before sitting back with a huff, trying to put on a bratty face to hide her clear intentions from the last few interactions.

Y/n looked around, pretending not to care from the interactions, her posture straight and clearly seeing if she could silently test Yoongi’s patience further but much to her displeasure, he wasn’t having any of it and didn’t even twitch to correct her again. She caught sight of Namjoon, relaxing back and watching the interaction with a knowing smirk while Jimin was looking at her with a similar playful gaze to the one she had just moments before.

“Awww, that’s cute baby, I’m sure your Yoongi-Oppa would let you bite him if you just asked nicely” - Jimins eyes were low and he was smirking behind the seemingly innocent smile he was giving her. He took away Y/n’s ability to form any words as the bratty facade she put up instantly crumbled, stuttering with a harsh red blush over her cheeks trying to protest. It wasn’t cute, she was intimidating… right?

Jimin only pressed further, leaning in finding it all too amusing to see her struggle.

“Well go on Y/n, ask nicely” - he rolled out his words, pushing her to really do it, knowing she wouldn’t and only doing it to watch her get all cute and shy.

“I-I don’t- I wasn’t-“ - Y/n’s protests were cut off when Jimin got up, walking over and standing so close that Y/n’s knees were pressed against Jimins calf, he tapped her chin to make her look him in the eye, sliding out another set of words.

“What is it? Fox got your tongue?” - Jimin finally let her breathe with a teasing smirk before leaving her dumbfounded with her mouth slightly agape, he just walked off to pour himself a drink and left her in that state. How mean.

He didn’t lie though. Yoongi would have let her bite him if she really did ask nicely, they all would have.

———————————————————————————

After Jimins teasing he took off to the kitchen, getting himself a drink and then coming up with another way to tease Y/n, this one being more pushy than the last in some ways. He waited for her to regain her composure before calling her over, seeing her look at him in confusion before he made light conversation and washed his hands under warm water.

“You know, I always expected cat hybrids not to like water much but Yoongi and Hobi really don’t mind it” - Jimins words made her confused and she wondered just where he was going with this.

She hardly had time to process before he turned around, hands covering her face to hide from the splashes of water Jimin suddenly attacked her with, giggling teasingly at her when her fur stood up. She wasn’t afraid of water, it was actually rare in cat hybrids to have that but there was a urge to groom yourself back to pristine condition after even a droplet of water gets onto their ears or tail. Jimin had known well that she wasn’t afraid of it, that being the only reason he actually teased her like this, being told of her trips with Kook to the pool where he’d splash and nearly dip her in everytime. He’d told her about how she’d giggle and scream, laughing away but sometimes got equally as playful as him so Jimin wanted to try to experience a little of that too.

The droplets that hit her were warm and where she turned around, hit her tail, ears and hair quite quickly. When the first rain finished she spun back around, a betrayed look on her face as she felt a playful hiss curling up in her throat.

“Awww is the kitty’s tail getting all messed up?” - That comment only spurred on Y/n’s need to reciprocate in some way so she frantically looked around for any sort of plan but was only met with another surge of water, not sinking into her long fur, she might have seemed angry had she not been wearing a cheeky grin since Jimin began this little game. This time she fully jumped at the water hitting her sensitive tail and ears, shivering despite the water being warm.

A hiss and squeal fell out of Y/n’s lips as she quickly grabbed a water bottle she found on the side and aimed for Jimin, he was much quicker than her however, quickly jumping to the side and avoiding her throw without a single drop touching him. This time he picked a larger amount of water up and it made the fluff of Y/n’s tails and ears go flat and a darker shade as the fur stuck together from the next throw of water over her. Just as she was about to throw more at Jimin again a clearing of a throat was heard beside them. Y/n looked terribly guilty, water bottle ready to attempt to soak Jimin again and a large puddle of water next to him where she missed while all of the water Jimin threw was expertly aimed at her, barely even getting a drop on the floor or her clothes, just in her fur and hair.

Namjoon was standing next to them with an amused face, eyebrows raised as it looked like Y/n was the only one participating if you ignored her wet hair, it left her stuttering over her words to try to explain and face going hot as he probably came in when he heard her hiss and squeals. It was terribly embarrassing to her for some reason and Namjoon just shook his head with a laugh.

“We were just playing Joon, it’s fine” - Jimins sly voice came from behind her and she felt like a puppet just nodding her head along forgetting about her wet tail and hair until Joon looked around and mentioned it.

“How about you clean this up Jimin and I’ll take Y/n to get a towel” - Once Jimin agreed Namjoon ushered Y/n out with a hand hovering over her lower back, itching to wrap around her waist properly especially when she would look up at him in admiration after every few steps. When he properly looked at her tail, ears and hair after handing her the towel a sudden idea came to mind. Looking at the side of the cabinet in the bathroom, he picked up two detangling brushes while Y/n gently took some of the water off but was clearly aware of the knots that had accumulated as a rest as her small hands brushed over them with a little furrow of her brows.

“How about you let Jimin and Yoongi take care of that? Since Jimin was clearly so mean hm?” - Namjoons tone was teasing and his words had Y/n snapping her gaze to him wide eyed and flushed again at the idea, remembering their earlier conversation all she had to do was lay over their laps, not even say anything maybe she had grown a lot more confidence in the time she’d spent there today but she seemed to think for a moment before handing one brush to Namjoon hesitantly and turning around, quietly mumbling.

“But could you brush my hair please?” - She asked so sweetly and held her breath in a way that made Namjoon shudder, something inside him howling to do exactly as she asked without another second to spare. Y/n asked not just because her arms get tired when she has to do it herself but because she loved how her skin rose everytime Namjoon lightly touched her or even just spoke to her, he made her feel giggly and soft. She hadn’t really thought about her height and length of her hair being a bit of a problem in terms of comfortability for Namjoon until he took a step forward, looming well over a head taller than her with her and seemed to make a thoughtful noise. She squeaked in surprise at the hands that landed on her waist and effortlessly lifted her to sit on the counter Namjoon had got the brushes from, making her taller and making it much easier for Joon to brush her hair.

He was really a gentle giant, every touch soft and he would rush out quiet apologies at every little knot and pull even though Y/n clearly didn’t mind, her purring never ceasing and getting louder everytime he would gently position her head where he needed it or praised her for how soft, pretty and long her hair was. He was puffing out his scent in contentment and didn’t fully notice Y/n’s body relaxing more and more, letting her body slouch and head drop, it happened quicker as he brushed more, purposefully taking his time and longing it out just a bit. She was so sweet and soft under his touch and care and while it made Y/n’s body slouch and barely hold herself up it had Namjoons body straightening and chest puffing out purely from pride with quiet rumbles coming from his own chest in time with Y/n’s purrs.

Y/n had melted under Namjoons hands by the time he was finished, she probably would have fallen off the counter if it wasn’t for the way Joon moved a hand to the back of her neck, stabilising her but equally standing as a form of making this soft feeling Y/n had barrelling over her body more, his fingers could so easily scruff her where they were or press into her scent glands but that all sounded too appealing for her to admit.

Joon lifted her back down to the floor even if she could have gotten down herself with a little jump, he kept his hands on her waist for a moment steadying her wobbly legs so she didn’t stumble, it felt good to take care of her like this, in any way really. Just carry her over and put her in packs laps- they’ll take care of her- don’t let her go actually, take her to nest- makes such pretty nests. His thoughts and instincts were screaming to do all sorts of things for her but he took a more logical route, with a lot of struggle, big hand wrapping around Y/n’s waist and guiding her body back to the living room.

Turning towards Y/n again, he found her already staring up at her with blown out pupils and a dopey smile, she looked at him like he was the only man in the world and it took his breath away, forgetting what he was going to say momentarily. One of her hands was sliding through her brushed hair, happy to feel it so soft and knotfree, it was making that itch to be well groomed a whole lot better but it wasn’t there yet, still needing her knotted fur brushed which is what brought Namjoon back to focus. He handed out the two brushed to her, waiting until she took them and looked up for instruction in a way that made a happy growl threaten to fall out of his throat.

“Go on doll” - Y/n silently padded over to the sofa that Jimin and Yoongi were comfortable on and she avoided their eyes putting the brushes into one of her hands and planting her knees onto the sofa on Yoongi’s side, still avoiding their curious stares as she dropped her front forward, all three men’s breath catching as she still had her ass up for a moment before sliding her knees down, resting her head on Jimins thighs, breasts pushed up against his outer thigh and her ass and upper thighs resting over Yoongi’s. She just silently reached her hand back and held out the brushes inbetween them, hiding her face in Jimins muscly thighs and inhaling his dizzying scent.

Both the men looked at eachother for a moment in astonishment but the moment a whine started to rise in Y/n’s throat - from her embarrassment thinking they didn’t want to brush her fur (it was definitely not that) - they snatched a brush each and soothed her with soft touches and words. She smelt sweet and they could see when She came over her legs were wobbly and smile shy but equally dopey, her hair was brushed and every touch was making her giggle so they looked back at Namjoon who was smiling guiltily on the other couch.

Y/n buried her face further into Jimins thigh at the first touch to her ears and tail, it wasn’t from the brushes, both of them had decided to gently run their fingers over the fur and coo at how soft it was despite the knots. They were delighted she was happy to let them touch her there and made the most of it, moving slowly to brush out the knots and laughing quietly everytime Y/n gasped at a particularly sensitive pull, that was mostly Jimins doing, Joon was right in saying Yoongi was the gentlest, she could barely feel him brushing out the knots on her tail but Jimin was still gentle, the little pulls were pleasant and far from painful so she sighed happily with her sweet scent every now and then.

They were praising her constantly, both making noises similar to purrs and Y/n felt like she might drift off for the first half of the brushing, that was until Yoongi was about half way down her tail and Jimin was nearly at the base of her ears. That’s when it started to get more sensitive, Y/n was constantly inwardly gasping, trying to hold back any noises as she gripped onto the sofa hard and when she felt restless one of her hands moved up and gripped onto Jimins thigh hard, it wasn’t really that hard but he could feel the indent of her claws just slightly and just cooed at her, continuing. Reaching the base of her ears, Jimin put a bit more pressure to brush them and heard Y/n let out a muffled whine, one of her legs cutely kicking beside Yoongi, it really didn’t take long to finish but instead of finishing he changed from a brush to his hands, the warmth of them making the feeling all the more intense and Y/n began struggling to keep quiet and still, wiggling a bit and making it all the more difficult for Yoongi to keep brushing her tail.

He let her squirm for a minute before he hand to move further down on her tail and let one of his hands fall onto the her thigh, squeezing in warning and effectively stilling her for a while but it just made her heavier breathing and whines more frequent. Y/n was purring loudly and her scent was sweet and strong enough that it clung to every inch of the room, slightly dizzying for everyone in it but no one complained because they loved it, it only made them happier. Jimin’s fingers seemed to put more pressure the closer Yoongi got the base of her tail and he was only a few inches from it when her squirming started again, moving her hips side to side a bit, kicking her legs more than she did before.

The situation seemed all too familiar for Namjoon as he glanced over, her skirt had rided up to the tops of her thighs again, showing the tops of her high socks but Yoongi kept his eyes purely on her tail, not looking further down only glancing up to where Jimin was playing with her hair and ears. Jimin was alternating between scratching at the base of her ears and gently tugging at her scalp in a way that had her gasping and letting out muffled and quiet ‘ah’s but he was having so much fun playfully teasing her for it, Y/n wouldn’t verbally admit it but she loved it, she didn’t really have too because her body was giving it away anyway.

She was too caught up in her own thoughts about Jimins movement on her head to realise when Yoongi moved about an inch from the base of her tail and the slightest pull of the brush made her suddenly let out a much louder whine, suspiciously similar to a high pitched moan and her back arched to push her tail further into Yoongi’s hand, her legs kicking hard back and forth against the couch. Immediately she grew embarrassed, especially when Jimin dug his fingers into her ears and scalp harder and just added to the feeling, dragging out the noises coming from her mouth before she tried to silence them, her hips twitching and breathing heavy.

The moment it happened had Yoongi freezing for just a split second but he quickly got back to his task, grabbing Y/n’s hips with both hands and pushing her back down onto his thighs, hard, in a way that had her gasping again but it was needed, it grounded her in a way she didn’t know she needed and it had her wanting to splutter out thank you’s to him but didn’t because she was still the brat from before who refused to inflate his ego.

While Yoongi and Jimin had regained their composure quickly, Namjoon was stuck in that very moment because as Y/n had arched her back and kicked her legs out, her skirt went up that extra few inches and Namjoon didn’t just see a glimpse of her patterned panties this time, he caught a full view of the darkened wet patch from her slick, the way the damp fabric clung to her and how her thighs slightly shook for a moment, they all knew it was there from her scent but seeing it, that’s something different, he looked away so quickly he nearly gave himself whiplash but it didn’t stop the flush of his scent surrounding the room, both of the men looked at him for a moment in question but put his reaction down to her previous reaction.

Joon found it harder and harder to concentrate as Yoongi seemed to move almost torturously slow to the base of her tail, it got harder and harder for her to stop her squirming and sweet noises. It wasn’t like the other two weren’t struggling to keep their composure but they refused to let their instincts act any more than their racing thoughts and purrs, maybe the harder touches that made Y/n tremble and twitch were on purpose too but they would never admit that.

When they were finished, they made no effort to move Y/n. Instead, their hands moved around her body, brushing over her sensitive fur occasionally as Yoongi stroked up and down her back and thighs while Jimin played with her hair and teased at her scent gland and the back of her neck. Namjoon’s gaze fell back onto them eventually, taking in the scene greedily and that’s exactly how Jungkook found the 4 when he came home, barrelling through the door excited to see everyone and stopping dead in his tracks at the scent and atmosphere of the room, a shiver running down his spine at the tension. He took in Y/n rubbing her face into Jimins thighs and still squirming over Yoongi’s lap and Namjoons almost feral gaze and he couldn’t help but wonder what had happened today, jealous that he had missed it.

The three men greeted him lovingly but Y/n didn’t even seem to realise he was there until a third set of hands brushed over her body, stroking her legs and holding them up to plant himself right next to Yoongi and under the Y/n’s knees. From his position he could see exactly what Namjoon had seen before and his nostrils flared at the scent overwhelming him before his hand reached up and flicked the bottom of her skirt down, tugging it to keep his own composure in check.

Y/n chirped happily at his presence and lifted her head to look down at him, her pupils blown out to the max and cheeks flushed, plump lips pouting slightly before contorting into a happy smile. She felt positively buzzing, almost high from the day as a whole, her hair and fur was freshly brushed and she didn’t even have to lift a finger, her body being touched by a combination of warm and cold hands, all big and grounding. She had been smothered in praise and admiration the entire time and her eyes felt droopy as a result, she had even drooled onto Jimins thigh slowly over the course of the time, she didn’t realise that though. Hadn’t even processed his teasing about it throughout when he was making little comments like drooly baby and oh is that nice hm? Can’t even keep it in can you? Although that one had an alternative meaning referring to the mess between her thighs too.

“Has your day been nice princess?” - Y/n responded to Jungkooks words with eager nodding and slurred babbling about everything from reading and napping on Namjoon and how nicely he brushed her hair for her to how Jimin had teased her for trying to bite Yoongi, how he’d brought out such nice fruit for her to eat and more, she spoke so fast and in short bursts that would end half way through as another thought came across that it was a little hard to understand but they all just listened and looked at her lovingly. Jungkook knew it was a good idea to leave her with Namjoon for the day, it seemed to be everything she had needed.

———————————————————————————

Unfortunately it soon became time for Y/n to go home, no one wanted her to go so she reluctantly had to leave the comfort of the three men’s laps, it proved to be a bit of a flustering affair and she flipped over onto her back and sat up, effectively sitting right on Yoongi’s lap before she stood up and he had kept his hands firmly on her hips to make sure she got up okay which had her usually brat behaviour around him breaking down and she was just shy, scampering over to the door, followed by all 4 men.

Jungkook had made sure she was warm enough to leave, before getting to his shoes while Y/n moved over to Namjoon.

That shy demeanour she had before seemed to reappear as she got an close as she could and wrapped her arms around his shoulders, standing on her tiptoes even as he bend down to wrap his own arms around her waist. She whispered thank yous and they exchanged small words before she held her breath, leaning in and putting a kiss with her pouty lips to the corner of his mouth, not quite touching his lips but very very close. He was so surprised that his eyebrows shot up but he gave her that dazzling smile and kissed her forehead before letting her move onto Jimin.

Jimin was as teasing as he had been the entire day with his goodbye, lifting her off her feet and spinning her while she giggled and squealed before planting a kiss to her cheek, not ending there when he leant into her ear, whispering in a way that had her flushing all over again ‘maybe you should try to bite Yoongs again next time, I’ll make sure he lets you’ he ended this with a kiss just under her ear that had her skin prickling and she reciprocated with a kiss to his chin.

The final goodbye was for Yoongi, she moved up close to him like she had the others but this time, she stood on his feet before going on her tiptoes with a proud look, he grumbled empty complaints at her bratiness but wrapped his arms around her waist and squeezed her tight, saying he’d miss her and to come back soon. Being so close to his face reminded her of his canines that she had seen earlier and she stared trying to catch a glimpse of them before burying her face in his neck. A wicked thought came to mind and she opened her mouth at his neck just slightly, bringing her sharp fangs close urging to just nip, just a little bit barely graze the skin but before she could it was like Yoongi could read her mind. One of his hands shot up, tangling in her hair and holding her by her scalp so she couldn’t move further, the other hand tightening around her waist and his voice came out gravelly and deep ‘don’t’, followed by his own canines scraping down her neck, a clear warning that had her giddy. Happily giggling and kissing him on his cheek, it was a bit more of a wet kiss that he teasingly rubbed off with another empty grumble before he put one of his own to the space between her eyes.

Jungkook wanted to take her home to spend some time with her because he hadn’t been able to sol he bent down and gently put Y/n’s shoes on for her when she had stepped back, letting her lean both hands on his strong shoulders to keep her balance. When they were on and they were both ready, he grabbed his keys and let her say her goodbyes again before escorting her down to his car.

There ride was short and sweet, Y/n stayed awake for longer this time so she could hear about his day, happy to hear his voice and be close to him again and in the back of her mind she couldn’t wait until she got her now routine kiss at her door. That moment came sooner rather than later, Y/n’s scent fluffing out sweet and happy as her lips were on Kooks, it was just about a peck, teasingly sweet and leaving her wanting more but both of them knew she wouldn’t ask for it and that made Jungkook satisfied, knowing she’d think about it for hours to come, in a way it made up for some time they hadn’t spent together.

Y/n huffed dropping herself into her bed after having a shower and dressing in some comfy pyjamas, her loneliness cured from the day but she couldn’t help wanting to go back, wanting more and wishing she was still there, that she could be there all day every day.

One day, one day very soon hopefully

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Thank you so much for reading, I hope you enjoyed today’s chapter! My asks are open for strawberry princess prompts and for character asks!

ཐི♡ཋྀ

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Taglist -

@m00njinnie @singukieee @maisyyyyyy @noortsshift @bunnybears-stuff @authorpj @simeonswif3 @kiki-zb @msrmimi @nobody3210 @djodjom1 @jkriri @btsizlyfe

[thir10th]

Soft Strands and Sweet Interruptions - October writing challenge day 2

summary: Emily is trying to tell you about her day, but you get distracted tw: a tiny mention to typical show violence at the beginning, no smut, this is so sweet it's literally just tooth rotting fluff a/n: i think i forgot to mention this, but i will be posting on alternate days, so instead of a fic a day, it’s going to be a fic every two days. Here’s the second one!! Happy 3rd of October! 💘

"I'm telling you" Emily stops mid-sentence to swallow a big bite of her spicy noodles before finishing her point "they don't even take it seriously anymore"

The containers lay empty all scattered over the coffee table, you sit with your legs crisscrossed on the couch in front of your girlfriend. After a whole day of work. she called you asking if you could come around, and only five minutes later you were at her door with takeout from her favorite chinese place, and asking what's wrong.

After the third spring roll and some noodles, her rambling had gotten lighter, and she was feeling better already.

"mh- and don't even get me started on today's training!" she says rolling her eyes and taking another bite"

"this young generations of agents think they can just shoot at whatever they want without consequences! They ignore my guiding, It’s like everything I said went in one ear and out the other.”

You nod, letting her vent "Mmhmm, sounds like a classic Prentiss-the-new-agents-trainer day.”

"Oh no! this is temporary, as soon as Morgan's arm is better, they're all his." She scoffs "I've been doing this- what? years? I remember i used to listen to my supervisory agent when i was training"

“I don’t even know how you deal with it.” you try comforting her, resting your hand on her lap, watching her and smiling softly.

Emily throws up her hands, hair falling into her face “I honestly don’t know either. By the end of the day, I just wanted to—” her words trail off as she looks down, clearly still worked up, but before she can continue, you gently reach over and tuck her hair behind her ear, taking her by surprise.

Truth is- you've always loved Emily's hair, more than you care to admit, always glowing, the dark almost black strands always falling over her face now that she's letting her bangs grow out.

She blinks, her expression softening in confusion "What are you doing?"

"Distracting you" you say, smiling as you continue to run your fingers through her hair, gently brushing it back.

Her voice softens as she looks at you “Well, it’s working.” she scoffs in surprise and a bit embarrassed.

Your fingers linger in her hair, and you lean in closer, your thumb brushing her cheek “Good.” You close the distance and kiss her softly, feeling her relax into you.

Emily sighs against your lips, clearly surprised but smiling “Wow, you’ve got great timing.”

You giggle softly, pulling back just a little “I have my moments.”

She grabs your face so softly with her hand, her thumb caressing your cheek. Still smiling, her rant forgotten, she rests her forehead against yours “You’re a very good distraction, you know that?”

You whisper, running your fingers through her hair again “I’ll keep that in mind for the next time you’re this worked up.”

You peck her lips one more time, fast and sweet "it's not worth it my love, they'll learn when they learn, it's not your responsibility, and i don't like to see you so affected by it" you touch her nose with yours, the childish gesture makes her laugh

"and i'll keep distracting you if it means you'll relax this frown a bit" you touch the spot between her eyebrows, and she giggles.

She chuckles softly, eyes closing as she leans into you “I might just start ranting more often if this is the reward.”

You smile, still threading your fingers through her soft, dark hair. “I wouldn’t complain.” Your voice is gentle as you tilt your head, watching the way her expression has softened, the tension from the day finally melting away.

Emily hums, her eyes drifting shut, clearly savoring the feeling of your touch. “You know,” she murmurs, her voice quieter now, “you’re really good at this.”

“At what?” you ask, laughing softly.

“Calming me down. Just being here.” She opens her eyes again, her gaze full of warmth as she looks at you. “I don’t know what I’d do without you sometimes.”

You brush a few more strands of hair away from her face, your fingertips lingering against her skin. “You’d be fine,” you tease, though your heart flutters at her words. “But I’m happy to help, especially when it means I get to play with your hair. You know how much I love it.”

Emily smirks, but there’s a softness in her eyes that tells you how much she appreciates it. “You and my hair, huh? Guess I should let you mess with it more often.”

You grin, pressing another quick kiss to her lips. “I’m holding you to that.”

She laughs before she leans in again, pressing her lips to yours in a slower, sweeter kiss this time. When she pulls back, she tucks her head into the crook of your neck, wrapping her arms around you.

“Thanks for always knowing how to make things better,” she whispers. You feel so grateful to be her safety net, that she feels safe enough with you that she will share this things with you, letting her armor down every once in a while, so she doesn't have to carry it all herself.

You hold her close, your hand still gently running through her hair. “Always,” you promise, feeling her relax completely in your arms.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

There you go! I wanted to start slow for day 2, lmk what you think! Remember any kind of feedback is greatly appreciated

[riveroftales]

❦❦❦❦❦❦ 𝐌𝐢𝐤𝐫𝐨𝐤𝐨𝐬𝐦𝐨𝐬 ❦❦❦❦❦❦

"𝖯𝖾𝗋𝗁𝖺𝗉𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗌𝗈𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗇𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍 𝗅𝗈𝗈𝗄𝗌 𝗌𝗈 𝖻𝖾𝖺𝗎𝗍𝗂𝖿𝗎𝗅 𝗂𝗌 𝗇𝗈𝗍 𝖻𝖾𝖼𝖺𝗎𝗌𝖾 𝗈𝖿 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗌𝖾 𝗌𝗍𝖺𝗋𝗌 𝗈𝗋 𝗅𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍, 𝖻𝗎𝗍 𝗎𝗌"

ғᴇᴍᴀʟᴇ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

“Quit moving so much.” You laughed softly, massaging the shampoo on Sanemi’s scalp.

“You think you can tell me what to do?” He scoffed back.

Sanemi returned home after being away for a mission for almost 3 weeks, and you couldn’t be happier. Being the loving person you were, you instantly drew him a hot bath and was in the process of pampering him.

“You promised me you’d be safe, yet you had the audacity to come back with new scars. I think that speaks for itself.”

Sanemi stayed quiet. He knew it was pointless arguing with you, making a small chuckle leave your lips.

“Is the water still warm?”

“Yeah…”

“That’s good.” You smiled. “Ah! Genya came by earlier.”

Sanemi visibly tensed slightly before he relaxed again under the water.

“He came to deliver a huge basket of ohagi. Poor kid could barely talk to me… I heard he gets really nervous around girls. He looks just like you, actually! His eyes are just a lil’ bigger and his hair’s longer and black, but you two are a splitting image! He said the ohagi was for you.”

“Did he?” The way Sanemi’s voice had dropped didn’t go unnoticed by you.

“Love, he cares, you know?” You leaned closer, placing a small kiss on his shoulder, dipping both your hands in the water to wash the lather off. “He’s been trying for years…”

“‘M just pissed that brat joined the fucking corps… one wrong move, and he could die. That little shit-”

You gently slapped his mouth. “Swear jar.”

A smirk broke out on Sanemi’s perfect features, letting out a scoff.

“You little-”

You smiled before quickly breaking away, trying to make your great escape which failed. He was a hashira. His reflexes were a hundred times better than yours, so he managed to easily grab your wrist before you could get too far and he pulled you closer.

“Hey-!”

You stumbled slightly and fell in the tub as well, but you were still mostly dry since you landed in Sanemi’s arms on top.

“Well hello to you too, Princess.” He snickered playfully before giving you a quick peck.

“Sanemi!” You whined. “‘M all wet!”

“No you’re not.” He suddenly splashed water on you. “This is slightly.” Suddenly tightening his grip on you, he placed one of his hands on the back of your head before flipping you both over, completely drenching you. “Now you’re soaked~”

“You little-” Laughing, you tried to playfully fight him before Sanemi also laughed. He easily pinned both your wrists above your head with one of his hands before the other came up to gently stroke your cheek.

You didn’t bother trying to fight him. Only his favourite sounds — your laughs left your lips. His expression softened into a smile designed by the gods above only for you. His gaze alternated between your adorably perfect lips to your stunning eyes as he slowly leaned in, his lips coming to contact with yours.

“The wisteria trees you planted are pretty.” You smiled, leaning your head on Sanemi’s shoulder.

The moon was at its full glory, shining brightly above you. You two sat next to each other, both in your own nightwear but still sitting on the porch outside because when was the last time you two held hands under the moon light?

“Wanted to make sure you stayed safe when I wasn’t around.” He mumbled, his thumb stroking the back of your hand before he brought your hand up to his lips, kissing each and every one of your knuckles delicately.

Your gaze was so soft he couldn’t believe it. How did someone as harsh as him get a girl who held him every night like he was the most precious thing on earth?

Giving him a smile, you looked back up at the sky.

“Oh! Sanemi! A shooting star!” You excitedly tapped him. “Quickly! Make a wish!”

Sanemi smiled at your adorable childish behaviour, his gaze not leaving you. You tightly shut your eyes, silently making your wish for a few seconds before opening them again.

“Okay! Done!” You smiled. “I wished for you and corps to defeat Muzan and all the demons, while I nurse you back to health!”

“You would do that anyways, dumbass.” His hand ran through your wet hair, ruffling it slightly.

“Yeah, yeah! Whatever. Don’t ruin it for me!” You smacked him slightly with a laugh which only grew louder when he wrapped both his arms around your waist, pulling you to him. “What did you wish for?”

He stayed silent for a bit. “A lifetime.”

“Hm?”

“A lifetime with Genya, where I get enough time to apologise to him and make up for all the times I neglected him… though I doubt that would be possible…”

He looked down to meet your gaze. “And a lifetime with you.”

“A lifetime where no demons exist anymore… I want to give you a life where you’re treated the way you deserve to be, where you never have to go bed hungry or worry financially. I… I want to give you a life where you can…” A small blush rose on his expression. “A life where our kids can look back at and smile at themselves that they had you as a mom, in a world without demons…”

“A world without demons which couldn’t have been achievable without their dad?” You mumbled quietly.

“A world where we don’t have to tell them anything about demons, or the demon slayer corps..”

You looked up at him with nothing but love in your eyes. “What if I love that part? What if I love the fact that my children’s father is a strong man who killed the demon lord?”

“That’d be one hell of a story. He’s still alive.”

Your hand met Sanemi’s chest in a playful slap.

“Hey! Your story is literally the same!”

“Because it’s only okay when I say it, Princess~” He smiled, tilting your head up.

“Meanie.”

“Pretty.”

He leaned down to give you a peck. “Gorgeous… the prettiest girl of My dreams. My one and only lovely girl..”

This time, he kissed you. No peck. His lips lovingly pressed against yours as he gently sucked on your bottom lip.

Your arms wrapped around his neck as you pulled him closer, deepening the kiss.

Sanemi could live with the life he currently had. He didn’t mind it at all. He had you. That was all that mattered.

[sanjisboyfie]

suguru's cherished mornings

-> geto suguru x male reader -> really short sorry idk i just had to publically show how much i love him.

-> still jjk universe but the one where this babe doesnt become anakin skywalker and defect away from everyone <3333 because i like to imagine this alternate universe a LOT

his black hair sprawled over the sheets, unfortunately getting painfully pulled by you when you're still sleeping. he winces as he feels it being pressuredly pushed down onto the mattress, giving a slight tug to his sensitive scalp and affectively waking him up.

he doesn't have the heart to even be remotely annoyed or angry with you. not when you look so peaceful sleeping. not when you're so effortlessly handsome it feels almost like his heart physically stops beating at your effortless charm.

he is just that in love with you.

the way you could make doing nothing but sleeping look like art was something special only to his eye, because he was the only one that had his eye on you. or, at least, that's what he tells himself to sleep better at night (he would very much rather not think about the probably high number of individuals that also find you attractive, it'll just put him in a sour mood).

he won't wake you up. instead, he props his head up onto his palm and continues gazing at you lovingly. sure, it can be a little bit creepy, but...okay, it is just creepy, but he just loves you so much. he might pick up the book that's resting on his bedside. he'll sit against the headboard as he reads, smiling softly when you so naturally shift your body to now be hugging his legs and resting on his lap.

one hand will hold the book up for him to read whilst the other traces mindless shapes on your back.

suguru loves touching you, whether it be in the smallest grazes of his fingers or those more heated moments, he loves, loves, loves touching you. it makes him happy - genuinly.

it's his own way of grounding himself, reminding himself that you're really there with him, next to him.

his large hands will run up and down your back until you eventually wake up. the book he's reading returns back to the bedside and he immediately focuses all of his attention on you.

"g'mornin', baby," he'll gently say, shuffling to hold you in his arms and kiss the top of your head, "did you sleep well?"

a tired hum is all he gets in response, but you can still feel him smiling against your skin. you return the question, your voice gravely as you speak.

then he's pressing his face into the crevice between your neck and shoulder, humming in delight as he gets to really take you in, through all of his senses.

he has you in his arms, obviously he can see you, and the last is that he is drowning in your natural scent.

he's obsessed, at this point.

"slept perfectly, as always," when i'm beside you - that's the last part of the sentence that suguru doesn't voice, for some reason.

his arms tighten around your waist. and now you're the one carding your fingers through his hair, to sooth him and relax that tight grip on your body. he doesn't know it, but it's practically suffocating.

gently, as you predicted, his hold does loosen up and allows you to sit in his lap now without him cutting off your circulation.

"should we stay in for a little while longer, babe? are you still tired?" he asks you, but doesn't get a response. all he feels is your body comfortiably slotting in with his and the arms you had around his neck loosely falling into your lap.

"silly boy," he chuckles, finding your habits endearing and amusing. you woke up, just to get comfortable in his lap and then fall back asleep. "i love you,"

there's a low hum that comes from your chest and he takes that answer with glee. he knows you would have said it back if you had the energy or that keen awareness.

_

when the two of you finally do have the energy to get out of bed, the morning finally starts in the bathroom. you're brushing your teeth standing next to each other, suguru sometimes childishly making funny faces at you in the mirror.

you almost choked on the toothpaste in your mouth when he fulls a particularly funny face. some other mornings you're sitting on the bathroom counter with suguru comfortably standing in between your open legs. his one hand will rest on one side of your lap with the other moving the toothbrush in his mouth. that hand near your lap will sometimes go underneath your shirt and start playing with the flesh of your hips.

it sometimes earns him a warning look, which he rolls his eyes at, but eventually does pull away to please you. the other times, though, when you let his fingers dance on your skin - those times he loves.

sometime in your morning routine, one of you will get a phone call from someone in jujutsu society to call you for a mission. usually, it's you since you're not a special grade like suguru. that means you're more high in demand for lesser grade curses.

he doesn't like that, though, so he often tags along with you wherever you have to go. doesn't like being away from you for too long. it makes him angsty. makes him worried.

he wants to be there for you if anything happens. or else he wouldn't be able to live peacefully.

but on the rare mornings, you don't get beckoned for work, the two of you are lounging in your small living room. two steaming cups of coffee are on the table as suguru watches the television with you scrolling on your phone.

your legs will most likely be thrown over his lap, a subtle way of letting him touch you. his hands will always find the skin of your ankle and calf to caress, going up and down your leg as if he was trying to lull you to sleep again.

he may or may not actually be trying to do that too, he wants you to stay here with him and only him for a while longer. and when you're sleeping, you're doing just that. it's his own little secret, though, as he'd never confess these underhanded methods he uses to monopolize your time and attention.

and its usually at times like that: the light pouring in through the opened window, the cups of steaming coffee in front of you two, that skin to skin contact, when suguru feels the most thankful for having you.

you make the mundane mornings something worth living through. he doesn't have to struggle and find reason to get out of bed, not when he has you there to hold his hand through the motions of it. you make his life exciting and he loves you dearly for all that you unknowingly do for him.

"hm, love you, [name]," he'll say out of nowhere.

it makes your head lift up from the couch cushion and away from your phone screen. he catches your e/c eyes with his own, smiling softly at your adorable face.

"love you too, suguru, always," you easily respond, sitting up to kiss his cheek and leaving a lingering scent of coffee on his skin.

but he doesn't wipe it away, he never would.

you collpase back onto the couch cushion into your comfortable position and suguru can't help but note how homey you look.

he loves when he gets to spend his mornings with you because those are the best parts of his day.

the mundane turned special in its own way, all thanks to you and the love he has for you in his heart.

[nova-amor]

𝐜𝐰 — 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫, 𝐨𝐨𝐜!𝐫𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐫 𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐮𝐧, 𝐡𝐮𝐬𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐝!𝐫𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐫 𝐱 𝐰𝐢𝐟𝐞!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫, 𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐚𝐧 𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐮𝐚𝐠𝐞 𝐮𝐬𝐚𝐠𝐞, 𝐜𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐨𝐥𝐝, 𝐡𝐮𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧, 𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐛𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧, 𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩, 𝐮𝐧𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐬𝐞𝐱, 𝐝𝐞𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐝𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧, 𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐝 𝐬𝐢𝐳𝐞 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐤, 𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦𝐩𝐢𝐞, 𝐩-𝐢𝐧-𝐯 𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧, 𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐮𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧, 𝐞𝐱𝐡𝐢𝐛𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐢𝐬𝐦, 𝐝𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐲 𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐤, 𝐞𝐭𝐜.

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 — 𝟑.𝟗𝐤

the walls and floor of the nightclub shook with every resounding beat of the electronic dance music, and the air charged with the infectious electricity of the crowd. the room itself was filled with a mixed stench of alcohol, sweat, and a somehow pleasantly light aroma of earth; scents that were sure to linger on your clothes for the next few laundry cycles. 

in between the revolving glow of the strobe lights, reiner caught a glimpse or two of you dancing at the edge of the crowd, your body squished amongst the group of your friends as you swayed your hips to the music. 

the alternating purple and blue hues of the lights cast an ethereal brilliance on your features, highlighting every perfect curve and contour as you danced the night away. and, through the alternating cycle of songs, you’d cast a teasing glance over to your husband, your eyes silently beckoning him to join you on the dance floor.

but, ever the recluse, reiner maintained his spot in the shadows of the club— preferring to stay seated in the private booth your friend group had rented out in celebration of your birthday, his legs spread far apart and body relaxed into the leather cushions while he sipped on a stiff glass of pear brandy. he preferred to watch you from afar anyway, the opportunity allowing him to truly take in and appreciate your beauty. even, after ten years of marriage, reiner continued to believe that you were the prettiest woman he had ever had the privilege to meet.

like the doting husband he was, reiner adored every one of your features— from the way you had styled your hair for the evening, to the shimmer of your glittery makeup under the club lights, to the way your body always moved flawlessly to the tempo of the music. reiner knew you were the prettiest girl in the club that night, especially with how your little black dress clung to you like a second layer of skin.

and, by recognizing how attractive you were to not only him but to other people as well, reiner made sure to stay observant of the crowd. and, while doing so, reiner was able to take note of how many men shamelessly stared at you from afar, their eyes devouring every roll of your hips, every tilt of your head as you bobbed to the beat of the music. most men knew better than to approach you though, especially since you were a part of a large group and definitely because of the glistening wedding band on your ring finger.

yet, there is always that one fool— a clueless, stupid, arrogant fool.

reiner quirked an eyebrow as a man approached you from behind, watching intensely as the man didn’t hesitate to settle his hands on your waist. you recoiled from his touch, taking a large step forward to escape his wandering fingers. yet, ever the idiot that he was, be it because of alcohol or drugs or just a lack of social conscience, the man took you as a challenge— grabbing at your wrist and tugging you back into his embrace.

unfortunately, your friends were beyond drunk to notice your dilemma, too far off in their own little worlds. reiner pressed his lips together, clutching the crystal rock glass in his hands as he watched the scene unfold. he waited for your signal before stepping in; after being together for so many years, he had learned that you could defend yourself perfectly well without his aid. he’d just have to wait patiently for your signal before making himself known.

and, within a matter of seconds, you looked over at reiner— your brows raised and jaw set, annoyance obvious on your face. and, that was all he needed to pound the rest of his drink and march over to your side. the crowd around the edge scattered away like bugs under a flashlight, providing enough disruption to grab your harasser’s attention.

"what's going on?" reiner's baritone voice boomed in your ear over the blasting music, his presence casting a dominating shadow over you and the other man.

"this fucker won't leave me alone," you relayed to reiner, side-eyeing the man as he fidgeted in his spot. reiner was at least a foot taller than him; the man was far too slim and flimsy to pose any threat to his or your well-being. if reiner really wanted to, he could probably snap the man like a twig with just his pointer finger and thumb. as a matter of fact, the idea didn't seem too bad given the circumstance.

"came over here trying to sweet talk me or something," you continued, your arms wrapping loosely around reiner's waist. reiner ducked his head to hear you better, his eyes narrowing at the embarrassed man across from him. "told him i had a husband; he said he didn't care."

a wicked smirk tugged at reiner's lips as he glanced between you and the man, his irritation with the situation growing by the second. reiner placed a quick kiss on the side of your head before unraveling himself from your grasp, taking a single stride to cut the distance between the man and himself. 

"my wife said you were bothering her," reiner towered over the man, crossing his thick arms over his burly chest. the man was definitely far from posing any challenge. reiner wouldn’t be surprised if he was pissing himself right then and there. "can't take no for a fucking answer, huh?" reiner raised an eyebrow.

the man visibly gulped, trying to remain composed under reiner's daunting gaze. "i— uh, i—" the man stuttered, either too intoxicated or too mortified to answer, most likely both.

"you— uh, you what? too much of a bitch to answer?" reiner took a step closer as he mocked the man, his chest practically pressed to the man's face. he peered down at the man with a hardened gaze, a few nearby stragglers turning their heads to witness the scene unfold. "how old are you anyway? twenty-one? twenty-two? you’re definitely a fucking kid because you’re either too young or too damn stupid to realize that you shouldn’t keep trying to fuck with a woman who’s clearly not interested in a little shit like you."

the man's adam’s apple bobbed as the situation escalated; "i was just— i just wanted to show her a good time," the man rushed out his answer in a single breath, mustering up enough courage to formulate a proper sentence. "wasn't looking for trouble, i promise. you guys have a good night."

before the man could escape, reiner grabbed at the man's shoulder, giving the muscle a tight squeeze. a crooked smile painted itself across reiner's face, "woah woah woah, where the hell are you going? you wanted to show her a good time, huh?" your husband looked over his shoulder at you, an idea already formulating in his mind. you shook your head, knowing exactly what was going on in his head. it was a bad idea. definitely a bad idea.

ignoring your disapproval, reiner looked back at the man, his smile stretching into a cheshire grin. "why didn't you just say so?" the blonde said with a long drawl.

reiner’s arm was draped around your shoulders as he led you and the man down the hallway of a hotel. after finding out that the man who had been harassing you “just wanted to show [you] a good time”, reiner had been quick to offer him the chance to prove so— immediately booking a room at a nearby hotel and ordering an uber ride to transport the three of you there. it was your birthday night after all, and how cruel would it be for your husband to deny you of a “good time”?

the entire engagement had been awkwardly silent. besides the limited conversations reiner held with the uber driver and then the hotel’s front desk agents, neither you nor the man talked— staying as far away from one another as possible given the situation. 

it was borderline deranged how much reiner’s mood had changed, almost as if a light switch had been turned on that converted reiner’s usually protective, reserved persona to one that was scarily more easygoing and extroverted.

as reiner hovered the key fob over the hotel door’s lock, he glanced back at the man who was following you two around like a lost puppy— reiner’s smile widening at the sight of the faint tent appearing between the man’s legs. 

the hotel room was extravagant— featuring a private balcony, a tall dresser, a couch, an office desk & chair, a massive flat-screen tv, and a king-sized bed at the center of the room. you clenched your jaw, rolling your eyes in irritation at the obviously giddy expression on your husband’s face.

“what?” reiner pecked your forehead, briefly ignoring the other person in the room. his attention solely focused on you. “he wants to show you a good time, right? i may as well set the mood right, ja?”

you chewed on the inner lining of your cheek, nerves still wavering with worry. “reiner, i don’t think—”

“shhh, liebling,” reiner captured your lips in a passionate kiss. any lingering qualms you had disappeared at the feeling of his soft lips against yours, his beard tickling your face as he deepened the kiss. his tongue slipping into your mouth, massaging all of your doubt away. 

the man coughed in the distance, reiner breaking the kiss to give him some of the attention he sought. “are we going to start? or—?”

reiner tsked in annoyance. “sit.” he commanded, motioning for the man to sit down on the couch. and, the man did so without protest, his palms pressed to the top of his thighs as he waited for reiner’s next direction.

“so, you want to fuck my wife, ja?” reiner twisted you around to face the man, your eyes locked with the stranger as reiner pressed your back against his front. you could feel the warmth of reiner’s breath on the back of your neck before his nose nuzzled into the back of your head, burying his face into your hair. he inhaled the sweet aroma of your conditioner, allowing the scent to wash over him before peering back over to the man. 

“you said you wanted to show her a ‘good time’? you really think you could?” goosebumps rose along your skin at reiner’s delicate touch, his fingers hooking onto the thin straps of your dress to tug the fabric down. he ducked his head down to press a soft kiss to the top of your shoulder, his eyes remaining zeroed in on the visibly flustered stranger. "come on, be honest. say it. you want to fuck my wife."

the man's eyes flickered between you and reiner, a light shiver coursing through his body as he watched reiner’s hands pull your dress further down, your breasts easily spilling out from the dress’s confines due to your lack of bra. "say it." reiner instructed.

"i want to fuck your wife."

reiner's lips stretched into a cruel smile. “do you know how long it takes to learn a woman’s body?” your husband began to lecture. “do you know how long it took me to figure out what my wife liked? where she likes to be kissed? how she likes to be fucked?”

your skin flushed with embarrassment as reiner kneaded at your breasts from behind, tugging and pinching at your sensitive nipples as he rolled the perky buds between his rough fingers. you could feel heat begin to pool between your thighs, pussy lips tingling as the air thickened with the sexual tension in the room.

the man gulped, “look, dude, i didn’t mean to offend you— or, your wife— i—”

reiner pinched your nipples harder, pulling a loud yelp out from between your lips. the man flinched in response. “halt den mund!” your husband barked, silencing the man from speaking any further. the man sank back into the couch, the weight of defeat heavy on his shoulders.

“you’re lucky i’m a kind man, a good man. my beautiful wife and i are going to give you a lesson in how to please a woman,” reiner’s german accent thickened as his voice dipped into a lower octave, his hands continuing to mindlessly knead at the soft dough of your breasts. “isn’t that right, liebling? you want to help me teach the stupid boy a lesson or two?”

you nodded your head in reply, leaning further into reiner’s possessive touch. the presence of the other man in the room seemed to fade into the back of your mind, your head becoming clouded by the naughty thoughts of what reiner could possibly be playing.

this had been the first time reiner had ever allowed another person to play a part in your intimacy; if you could even call this circumstance that. and, as embarrassed and uncomfortable as you felt in this moment, you couldn’t fight the feeling of arousal that bloomed between your thighs. 

“don’t be shy, liebling,” one of reiner’s hands abandoned your tit to grasp at the hinge of your jaw, the pad of his thumb caressing your jawline. he dipped his head to nip at your ear lobe, lightly pressing his teeth into the soft cartilage before releasing. “use your words. tell the little boy you want to show him how a woman likes to get fucked.”

with your husband’s guidance, you allowed yourself to become more confident, recognizing just how much power your words held in furthering this event. 

if there was going to be anyone who was in real control of how this situation was going to play out, it was going to be you. because you knew that if you told reiner to stop playing around and just kick the man out right now, he would do it without any form of protest.

“you’re going to sit there and watch,” you told the man, recognizing the pitched tent in the man’s pants. he squirmed in his spot on the couch, beads of sweat forming on his hairline. “and, you’re going to learn how to show someone a good time.”

your cheek rubbed against the silky sheets of the bed, a string of drool seeping from the corner of your mouth and pooling into the dampened mattress beneath you. your head bobbed along with each sharp rut of reiner’s hips, his cock driving so far deep into you that you were sure you could see stars.

“mmmm, would you look at that… isn’t she just the prettiest? ” reiner purred from behind you, his hands gripping at the fat of your ass cheeks. dragging your sopping cunt back and forth along his cock, using you as if you nothing more than a simple cock sleeve. you were positive he wasn’t talking to you.

“she’s got the best pussy. so wet and warm, squeezin’ me so tight— no matter how many times i make her cream on my cock, she’s— always— milkin’— me— for— more—” reiner commented through gritted teeth, the words punctuated by each brutally restrained thrust into you.

you mewled along to his praises, arching your back deeper into the form of a crescent while raising your ass impossibly higher into the air. reiner was absolutely right— no matter how many times he made you cum, you were always left begging for more. and, he was always happy to oblige.

reiner laced his fingers around the bottom of your jaw, cupping your head gently to shift your viewpoint. your glossy eyes met the man across from you; you had learned his name at some point during this whole ordeal, yet your mind was far too clouded to recall what it was. it was something lame and forgettable, just like him.

the man squeezed at the base of his cock— his shaft veiny, slim, and far smaller than reiner’s. smaller than any other man’s you had ever seen before actually. it suited him though, it was just as feeble and pathetic.

“i still can’t believe you thought you’d get a chance to fuck my wife. what kind of a good time would you be showing her with that, hm?��� reiner’s words were harsh and demeaning, the man shifting his gaze away in distress. “no no, don’t look away. you keep your eyes on her.”

and, the man did as told. whatever mortification the man felt was far less important than the pleasure he must be receiving from reiner’s cruel words, his hands continuing to boldly stroke his dick in synchronization with reiner’s pace.

reiner guided you up from your face-down position to press your back against his chest, his hand trailing down from your jaw to cup at the underside of your breast. he rolled his thumb over the puffy nipple, his cheek pressed against yours as he continued to drag his cock in and out of your gummy walls.

“you really thought you’d get the chance to touch these perfect tits? to suck and play with them?” reiner’s other hand found the purchase of your other breast, both of his large hands massaging your chest— tweaking and rubbing and squeezing your breasts in his mighty grasp. “and, you wouldn’t just stop there, right? no no, don’t lie, you wouldn’t.”

“you’d move south,” one of reiner’s hands trailed down the length of your front— ghosting over your abdomen, past your pelvis, and down to your clit. reiner rolled the tips of his fingers over the overstimulated bud, drawing loose circles and figure eights over it. 

he then slotted your clit between the space of his index and middle fingers, rubbing the messy area of your inner labia as he spread your soaking folds apart. “take note, boy— this is where the clit is; do your best to remember it. you always, always, play with a woman’s clit during sex. helps them cum faster; isn’t that right, kleine?”

you whimpered in agreement, unable to find the words to reply. reiner’s fingers spread your folds to reveal the obscene sight of reiner's cock plunging in and out of you, a white ring of cream clinging to the base of his shaft. 

your cunt was also coated with the cream; the skin of your thighs and outer labia glistening with the mixed layers of reiner's release, your releases, and your continuous drippings of arousal. the filthy squelching sound of reiner's cock diving into the warm depths of your cunt bouncing off the walls of the hotel room.

reiner shifted his fingers around to allow his middle finger to tap your clit, giving the bud a few light taps in between his alternating drawings of shapes and rubs. he smothered the little bud with attention, eliciting sweet moans and whines from your throat with each attentive touch.

"you like that, mein liebchen?" reiner purred into your ear, the overstimulation making your eyes cross and toes curl. reiner's eyes narrowed at the other man, his lips curling down in disgust at the sight of him openly fondling himself in front of you and reiner. "why don't you tell our little friend just how good you feel, hm? sei ein guter mädchen und sag ihm, wie gut ich dich fühlen lasse. wie gut ich auf dich aufpasse."

"soo good, so fuckin' good," you whimpered, your mind drifting in and out of the state of euphoria you were currently in. you could barely bring yourself to acknowledge the other man, let alone say something to him. "ya always take care of me, rein— f-fuck, always— he treats me so soo good."

reiner gave your clit a soft pinch, stretching the sweet nub a little before releasing it. "is that right, mein schatz?" you could feel his cock nudge against the sensitive spot along your gummy walls, the knot at the pit of your stomach beginning to grow with each timed thrust into your g-spot. "gonna cum again? can feel you gettin' close, your little walls latching onto me like a vice."

"doesn't she look so pretty when she's about to cum?" your thighs began to grow numb, the coil with you beginning to unravel as your head grew light. "tell her she looks pretty." reiner commanded.

you lazily caught a glimpse of the man, barely watching as he sped up the motions of his hands to match up with your upcoming release. he wanted to reach his climax at the same time as you, wanted to cum alongside you. how sweet.

"you look so pretty—" the man through spaced words, hips bucking desperately into the air as he fucked his fist. "so pretty— ah-fuck, wanna cum with you—"

"ah, he wants t' cum, liebling," reiner whispered to you, your breaths getting heavier. you were so close, just a few more thrusts and you'd be toppling over the edge for the nth time that night. "you think he deserves to cum with you?"

"i don't care," you replied. "just wanna cum, rein— need t' cum—"

reiner's hand began to move faster, rubbing your clit in harsh swiping motion as he picked up the pace, his cock kissing at the wall of your cervix. "cum then. be a good girl—" reiner hissed. and, cum— cum all over my cock while i cum inside you."

and, you did; your orgasm knocking the very air out of your lungs. the pleasure became all too much— shattering your mind into tiny fragments as reiner spilled another load of thick, white sticky ropes into you. "that's it— take my cum, liebling— take all of it— scheiße!" he swore with accompanying guttural groans.

your body went limp in reiner's arms, completely tired and spent from the hours you had endured. you had ravaged, depleted of any more pleasure. you were desperate for a glass of water, yet you couldn't even bring yourself to move.

"now, get out," reiner instructed the man. he must have come at some point while you and reiner indulged in your pleasures, the evidence of his release being the white stains on his stomach and shirt. "don't make me say it again."

the man awkwardly shuffled to compose himself, shoving his limp cock back beneath the waistband of his jeans before adjusting his shirt. he grimaced in disgust at the droplets of cum that stained his shirt, but he knew that reiner's patience was running then and he wouldn't be given the luxury to properly clean himself up.

the hotel door slammed shut behind him, the loud click of the lock echoing through the room. once you were completely alone, reiner retracted his cock from inside you— fat globs of his load dripping out of your sore entrance and making a mess on the comforter.

"let's get you all cleaned up," reiner helped you to lay down on your back, pressing a chaste kiss to your lips before walking away. he came back with a damp washcloth, thoroughly cleaning your folds and inner thighs of any bodily fluids.

"was that okay?" he asked, a faint hiss leaving his lips as he cleaned up any remnants of your releases from his sensitive shaft. "you enjoyed yourself, right?"

you could just barely nod your head, tucking the blanket over your body— it was thick enough that any spilled body fluids couldn't seep through. "i had fun, reiner," you informed him, a soft smile tugging at your lips. your husband slipped beneath the comforters next to you, his arms wrapping around your waist and tucking you close into his front. "didn't realize i had an exhibition kink until tonight."

"ah, well," reiner pressed a few kisses to your cheek, the embrace he held on you tightening. the warm, fuzzy feeling of love making your heart swell. "i'm glad i was able to show you a good time then."

german to english translations

halt den mund — shut your mouth

kleine — little one

mein schatz — my treasure

liebling — darling

mein liebchen — my love

ja — yes

sei ein guter mädchen und sag ihm, wie gut ich dich fühlen lasse. wie gut ich auf dich aufpasse — be a good girl and tell him how good i let you feel. how well i take care of you

scheiße — fuck

[rahuratna]

In another universe, you and I ...

(But it's crack): PART 1

Summary: A short series in which the highly attractive sorcerers of JJK find themselves in an alternate universe with you (with a twist).

Part 1 includes:

Top Model! Gojo who meets you at a party. In spite of your instant chemistry, he harbours a dark secret ...

Naval Captain! Nanami, who has been hunted for years by his nemesis, the white leviathan who aims to show him his giant member. Will you stand by his side?

Genre: Humour, parody, crack

Warnings: sexual and suggestive content.

(I)

"You need a date."

"Mei Mei, I don't have a single free minute in my schedule at the -"

"Okay, let me rephrase that. You need to get fucked."

The coffee you've just taken a sip of diverts somewhere in the depths of your nasal passages, leaving you sputtering. Dabbing at your mouth with a napkin, you glance around the cafe while Mei Mei stirs her flat white, amused.

"Something wrong?"

"You know I'm not ... good at that kind of thing."

"A mystery, to be sure. You're an eyecatcher, even in that coat."

"What's wrong with my coat?"

"Listen." She leans forward, the crook of her lips conspiratorial. "I'm having a little get together at my new place. Kind of a housewarming. And I'm inviting some people I work with. You should come."

Mei Mei was an avante garde fashion photographer, known for her theatric sets. If she was hinting at what you thought she was, then ...

"You're telling me that you're inviting a ... bunch of models?"

"Some of my associates. So yes, models. And others. Just a relaxed little get together. What do you say?"

"I don't know ... I have to -"

"So you'll be there."

Her sly, red-lipped smile brooks no argument.

******

Tugging at the straps of the shimmering green dress Mei Mei had loaned you for the occasion, you took a breath before pressing the buzzer on the intercom that would give you access to the upscale compound. Mei Mei had pulled some strings to procure an apartment here, arranged by one of her well-connected clients in the fashion industry.

Gaining entry, you traversed the beautifully furnished foyer, with its black and white tiles and vintage lamps. The heels you wore were a lot higher than your usual choice, and you walked with the care of one who expected to twist their ankle at any given second. You hoped nobody noticed.

Mei Mei's get together was a relaxed, but lively affair, the buzz of conversation and the clink of glasses audible above the scent of various flowers her guests had brought her. She greeted you at the door and introduced you to a few of her colleagues.

Sipping champagne and appearing to listen intently to the lighting director who seemed to have an odd fixation on nipples under spotlights, the slow dawn of another's observation prickled against your skin.

You turned and surveyed the room, and you saw him. He was not exactly the kind of person you could miss. Tall, eerily beautiful, the ripple of lean muscle evident along the rangy lines of his body, his eyes capture you before anything else does. Blue as the most crystalline mountain lake, as clear, his pale lashes framing their illuminated surface, he is watching you with undisguised intrigue. The snowy hair, artfully disheveled, and the promise of a cheeky smile form a devastatingly handsome collection of features that blend together in a most pleasing fashion.

There was no mistaking it. This was the Gojo Satoru, one of the rising stars of the modeling world, a man who happened to look effortless in each and every one of his lauded photo shoots, many of which had already won awards.

And he was looking right at you.

Mei Mei had noticed his scrutiny of you, and she edged in, her soft introduction delivered with a smirk. She is gone faster than your eye can track, and now he's standing right opposite you, examining you with that laser-lit stare.

Clearing your throat, you swirl the remaining champagne in your glass.

"Gojo Satoru. I saw your cover on last week's Men's Wealth. It was ... really something."

He grins, pearly teeth catching the light of the chandeliers.

"Yeah? Which part of it did you like the most?"

"Which ... oh. The composition of the second photo was quite ..."

"Ahh, that one. Yeah. They just handed me the baby oil and told me to go to town. Didn't know it would be that slippery."

You choke slightly.

"So they don't give you ... more direction than that?"

"Oh no. I guess it's unique to me. I know what works best in my shoots and I get it done."

"Sounds like an interesting work ethic. I bet there aren't many models at your level who can say the same."

"Nah. I know I can be the best. I'm gonna be traveling to the New York Fashion Week tomorrow, and I barely know what's in store. They don't even bother telling me anymore."

His easy admission would sound arrogant from anyone else, but the confident assurance in his voice tells you that this man is simply stating facts. A frisson of something warm filters through you. As if his looks weren't already enough.

"Are you good at everything you put your hand to?"

Oh boy. The champagne had decided to assert its control over your mouth. Gojo doesn't seem to mind. If you're not mistaken, something is kindling in those fractured points of brilliance in his eyes too.

"I guess you could say that. I do have one vice, though. Something pretty incurable."

You lean forward, keen to hear this.

"A vice?"

"Yeah." His voice lowers to a secretive huskiness that turns the conditions in your underwear as humid as the Amazon rainforest.

"I kind of have ... a terrible sweet tooth. Can't get enough. I see something sweet, I want it right away."

He winks and sips from his glass, which you can see contains a cocktail with a fair amount of grenadine. You lick your lips, and his gaze follows the slick movement of your tongue.

"Oh? And what specific kinds of sweets do you like?"

"The classic kind."

He isn't touching you, but with the way his eyes rake over your form, he might as well be.

"I like spun sugar, light as air. The creaminess of a panna cotta. The burst of flavour on my tongue from a berry coulis. Give me some of that, and I'm yours, fair lady."

The upward quirk of his mouth is practically irresistible. It's what keeps you glued to his side for the rest of the night, while he, shockingly, seems to be thoroughly enjoying your company too. At times, you catch Mei Mei watching you both with discreet amusement and satisfaction.

At some point, she approaches and makes sure to thank Gojo for his assistance in obtaining this apartment. You glance over at him in surprise.

"Oh, Mei Mei did talk about that. I didn't know her contact was you."

"Sure was. I live just one floor up, actually. Put a word in with the owners and got her the place, no problem."

"So you own a place here too?"

He slides a hand into the pocket of his designer jeans, the glance he shoots you over his tinted glasses a clear invitation.

"Wanna come up and see the view?"

******

You had no idea how it had come to this. This wasn't you. And yet, here you were, in his apartment, the soft chatter of Mei Mei's party long forgotten in the frantic pace of your lips against his.

You both were barely in the door before his hands were on you, groping, caressing, mapping out every part of you sheathed in that increasingly cumbersome green dress. At the first opportunity, his fingers had stolen their way along the zipper and the material had slid down your legs.

You couldn't remember where your bra had been shed, probably somewhere just outside the bedroom.

He was surprisingly strong for someone with such a lean build. The corded sinew of his arms and back clearly weren't just for show. You found yourself tossed breathlessly onto the soft surface of the bed, as he surveyed you with a hunger that had your hands creeping south between your legs.

Satoru pauses, and suddenly there is a shift in the energy within the room. His face takes on a serious cast and his glance bends floorward. You sit up slightly.

"Satoru? Is everything - "

Eyes flitting briefly up to you, his throat bobs slightly as he swallows.

"Well. I guess this is a first for me. I don't usually do this, but ... I kinda want to see you again. After tonight, I mean."

You breathe out reverently. You certainly hadn't been expecting this level of vulnerability.

"And I want to see you again, too."

"So ... if that's the case then ... you need to see all of me. I can't hide this if we're going beyond a one night thing."

You're paying close attention now, reaching for him. He laces his fingers with yours.

What could this perfect man possibly be insecure about?

He takes a bracing breath before relinquishing your hand, stepping back from the bed and approaching the nightstand. Reaching into his mouth, he fiddles a little before plucking something away and placing it in a small container stored there. Turning back to face you, you see what he has been concealing.

The pearly teeth that had reflected such brilliant perfection in the light of Mei Mei's home were gone. In their place were a series of ill-formed, browning and misshapen stumps, many of them worn down completely. Your eyes snapped up to his, widening slightly.

"Satoru ... how - "

"I told you that I had a sweet tooth. I ... indulged myself as a child and my parents never stopped me. They spoiled me rotten in more ways than one! And now I'm  ... I'm paying the price."

"That's ... but why didn't you - "

"I'm going to have surgery soon to ... permanently fix it. But even if I do, my sweet tooth won't go away! It'll be with me forever. I'm ... "

His shoulders slumped slightly.

"Caramel icing. Berry coulis. Soft serve and rock candy. Even liquorice! Toffee! I can't - "

His voice breaks and you find yourself lunging across the bed towards him, enfolding him in a tight embrace. His breath washes over you, the foul tang of decay now noticeable. You understand how he couldn't keep something like this concealed beyond a one night stand. Your voice, when you speak, is infinitely soft.

"Satoru ... all this time ... were you avoiding proper relationships because you ... "

"I - yes."

His arms come up slowly around you, as if he is unused to the gesture.

"I couldn't even ... make them breakfast if I wanted to. Because then ... we'd have to brush our teeth together and they'd see ... "

"Oh, Satoru."

You press your mouth fervently against his, undeterred, mapping out each stump and broken edge with your tongue. He tastes like old coffee, milk gone sour, the cloying overripe sweetness of a fruit gone bad. But this is irrelevant to you, because you're kissing him.

You break away from him, watching those magnificent features of his freeze in shock.

"Wait ... you still want to - "

"Of course I want to. Come here."

The merry tap of fork and knife and Mei Mei's self-satisfied smile on the floor below would escape the both of you, as wrapped up in each other you had become. You vowed to yourself, running your fingers through his incredibly soft hair, that every morning from now on, you'd stand beside him at the bathroom sink and brush your teeth together.

Satoru missed the New York Fashion Week, but gained something far, far sweeter.

(II)

They call you Ishizu.

It isn't your true name, but it's one you'd accepted when you joined this crew. As the ship's surgeon, armed with your family's repertoire of skills and remedies, you'd managed to earn some credibility in your field. You'd saved more than one sailor's life.

For the brave fishing crews that traversed the Sea of Ruin, the vast stretch of unchartered water between this continent and the next, populated by scores of deadly sea beasts and treacherous archipelagos, the sea was a perilous temptress. Those with the skill and courage, not to mention a healthy dash of insanity, could make a substantial profit within a short time before retiring.

Such was the nature of Nanami Kento, Captain of the Casse Croûte, one of the few living men who had sailed the seven oceanic planes in all three seasons.

The Captain was an enigmatic man, to be sure. He'd come across as cold initially, sticking to such rigid timings and sailing plans that you'd wondered how any of his crew liked him. And heavens, did they adore the man. He had the undying loyalty of every person on board, and whenever you'd asked about it, they'd simply smiled and told you that you'd see with time.

So you waited and observed. Gradually, you began to see the qualities the crew so prized in him. When the cabin boy, Yuuji, almost fell into the jaws of a large sea beast with grey, cross-stitch skin, the Captain had drawn his cleaver and struck such a heavy blow across its nose that the creature immediately lost interest in a fisherman-sized snack.

When Sailor Ino, eager to prove himself, had set forth on an expedition on an unchartered island, only to return covered in large insect bites and a raging fever, the Captain had stayed up with him every night until the fever had broken. You'd never seen such dedication to the welfare of the crew.

There were many other such instances, and slowly, you found yourself gravitating to the quiet, charismatic captain as much as the others did. He was also unmistakeably handsome, with his kind, tired gaze, gleaming blonde hair, tall, muscular frame and clean-cut profile. In spite of his injuries, a missing eye and the damaged hand, he was also a formidable man. You'd be lying if you'd claimed that this dangerously attractive man hadn't intruded on your nighttime musings more than once ...

And on one particular night, while the next watch took their positions at the bell and you sat in the small galley that adjoined your surgery, he'd come in, nursing a steaming coffee, and kept you company. Slowly, he'd opened up to you, speaking of his days as a sailor, before he'd become Captain of the Casse Croûte, and what came after.

Something heavier lay over the conversation, though, something he seemed on the verge of telling you. Eventually, you pried it out of him. As you'd suspected, it was to do with his terrible injuries.

"Have you ever heard of the white leviathan?"

Swirling the coffee in his cup, his single eye glances up at you under dark lashes.

"I ... have heard some tales, yes. He's a legend, according to some."

"A living legend."

Seeing your eyes widen, he nods.

"Made off with a portion of my arm, and I'll never watch the sunrise with this eye again."

You exhale heavily.

"Captain ... I had no idea you'd encountered such a creature. What ... exactly happened, if you don't mind me asking?"

"You should ask. After all, as long as I remain in command of this ship, he may yet make another appearance."

"What do you mean?"

"The white leviathan, also known as a Gojoverian Satorunus, is the strongest of its kind to be born in centuries. Normally, they keep to their distant isle, within the Lightning Archipelago, where few venture. He, however, roams the seas in an eternal quest."

"I've heard that legends call him the Meibi Dick. Is there ... a reason for that strange nickname?"

The Captain hisses through his teeth, one hand raising to his eyepatch, as if just the mention of that moniker has sunk a harpoon into his flesh. You hurry to apologise.

"Captain, I'm so - "

"Please. No need. Let me explain. That nickname ... was a direct result of my encounter with him."

"It was?"

"Indeed. It was a gloomy day, I remember. Rain was pelting down. We'd put out the sails, because the sea was quite still.  At that time, we came upon a wreck, out at sea. The ship had washed up on a great reef, and there it hung, a spectre of former glory."

You were now hanging on to Nanami's words like a crow with carrion.

"And the white leviathan had caused this?"

"Indeed, although we didn't know it at the time. I ordered some of our skilled divers to check the wreck for any possible survivors. There were none, but one of the divers came back with something. A large piece of purified ambergris, said to smell and taste as good to leviathans as the sweetest nectar. Its call to them is so strong, that it may even drive them into heat, causing mating events in their population when they come across it. In my folly, I took it on board for its great value."

"And what happened then?"

"That night, the white leviathan, which had destroyed the other ship for the ambergris, came for us. The scent had laid such claim to the beast's mind that its mating mark had bloomed on the skin near its head, which it displayed to us."

"Its mating mark?"

Reaching into his pocket, Nanami drew out a small notebook and charcoal stick. He sketched something on one of the blank pages before passing the book over to you. Your eyes widened as you took in the drawing. It looked like a crude, stylized penis with the testicles sketched in just below.

"Is this ... "

"His frightful member. Indeed. He was attempting to show us his intention in order to lay claim to the ambergris."

"What did you do?"

"I knew we stood no chance against him. Foolishly, I thought to outrun him. It was futile. He boxed us in at every turn, his plaintive, terrible cry echoing across the water to us. Eventually, I ordered for the ambergris to be thrown overboard. It only served as a distraction. The beast consumed it and resumed his chase. Due to how long I'd evaded him, he'd come to associate this ship, and me, the Captain, with the ambergris."

"But Captain, that means ..."

He nods grimly, and you are sorely tempted to reach across the table and take his hand.

"He will hunt this vessel to the ends of the earth. Why do you think I plan every stage of our voyage so carefully? I'm always one step ahead of him, monitoring and studying the tides, the currents, the beast shoals. As long as we stick to the plan, we have the ability to outrun him."

Hope flares in your chest, in spite of your growing fear.

"I have faith in you, Captain. So does this crew. We'll be beside you, if the white leviathan ever makes an appearance."

This time, you do take his hand in your warm, tentative grasp, watching as his eyes drink in your countenance in the dim light of the galley. He squeezes your fingers in return.

**********

The seasons at sea come and go, and its a full seven months and three days before Captain Nanami's perfectly timed schedule is threatened. A storm, the likes of which you've never encountered before, strikes with unpredictable ferocity. The ship is blown completely off course, and although it will take a few days to rectify, Nanami's dire mood is palpable.

If you didn't have full faith in your Captain, you might have considered this an overreaction on his part. But you knew better. You knew that his concern came from long experience.

A well-founded concern, as it turned out. The white leviathan made an appearance a mere two days after the storm, spotted far to starboard by the lookout, and gaining fast.

Captain Nanami forbade any of the crew joining him in his task of slaying the beast, but this was one occasion where nobody would follow his instructions. You all loved him too well. Come hell or high water, you would all be by his side.

And the leviathan approached, its size alone boggling the mind. The waves slapped and beat against the hull, the slow rise and dip of the deck more and more pronounced as it came closer. Nanami stood on the prow, facing the creature, the large harpoon readied by Yuuji in one hand, his trusty cleaver in the other.

Then, you heard it. The terrible call of the creature, booming across the water to batter at your ears. The grotesquely formed words were difficult to make out, but to your astonishment, they formed distinct speech that you could understand.

"Naaanaaamiiiin, letttsssss .... gooooooo oouutttt."

The Captain gritted his teeth, his own reply loud on the wind.

"Never, you foul creature!"

"Sompppthin .... impooorrtant .... talkkkkk tooooo youuuuuu .... "

"You've been chasing me for years! There's nothing this important! Begone!"

"Iiiiiiii .... havvveeennn'tttt...... saiiiiddd nyythiiing ... "

"I refuse!"

That groaning, awful cry had come closer and closer, forcing you to your knees, hands clasped over your ears. The Captain stood firm, even as the giant, pale form broke the surface of the sea beside the ship, the giant, electric blue eye surveying the vessel with the glee of a long awaited victory.

"Naaaanaaaaminnnnn .... "

And then, you saw it. The mark the Captain had spoken of, the giant member and testicles that appeared as scrawled marks from beneath the skin of the beast. It had not forgotten! And now, as the beast called out again, it dawned upon you in a flash where it's dreaded nickname had come from.

"Naaaanaaaamiiinnnnnn ... maaaaayybbeeeee  ... diiiiiiicckkkkkk?"

You lunged toward the Captain, grabbing at his leg to keep him steady as the deck pitched violently before the amorous leviathan. You saw Nanami looking down at you, that beautifully courageous gaze trained on your water-streaked face. He turned back to the monster.

"I will never accept your dick, you all-ruining, unambitious fish."

You grasped his leg harder, willing all of your strength into his good arm as his body uncoiled and the harpoon flew true through the eye of the storm.

Part 2:

Demon Lord! Geto and Fireman! Kusakabe

[ihavemanyhusbands]

I Found My Love in Portofino

Duncan Vizla x Assassin!FemReader

Also on AO3

Summary: Despite your promise to stay away, the lure of Portofino -- and who you might find there -- is too irresistible. Part 2 to The Black Kaiser's Nightmare

WC: 5.3k words

Warnings: SMUT! (18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI), enemies to lovers speedrun into the bed, semi-public sex, mentions of violence, play fighting, breaking shit all over the place, abundant cursing, rough sex (unprotected, don't do it at home!), angst (but there’s a happy ending dw), I think that's it but lmk if I missed anything!

You are responsible for your own media consumption!

------

Sunshine, a gorgeous view, and the fragrant smell of the sea. What more could you possibly need? 

Some dignity, perhaps.

But maybe you’d lost all of it on the other side of the world almost a year ago, buried under many layers of snow. Along with one too many promises you weren’t certain you could keep.

Then again, you’d desperately wanted a vacation somewhere warm, hadn’t you? And Portofino was beautiful that time of year, undeniably so. It was nearly impossible to resist its allure. 

All you had to do was keep to yourself and not let your eyes wander in search of a familiar silhouette. Eat some amazing food, drink some great wine, and maybe brush up on your Italian. Nothing else. How hard could it be, really?

A few days had already passed with no issues, but at all times, there was the slightest prickle of awareness at the back of your neck. But still, you didn’t search.

At least you were slowly building a nice tan, which was long overdue. You’d spent most of your days at the beach, alternating between dips in the ocean and sprawling out on a towel to air dry. It was as close as you’d gotten to true peace in a long time.

Sometimes, when the waves rolled over you, they felt like a lover’s embrace. Powerful and all-consuming, right on the verge of being agonizing. The familiarity of this feeling and these sudden romantic notions were irritating, but you were always a creature of incandescent want. A fatal flaw, most likely.

When the sun began to set, hunger was the only thing that could pull you away. You’d found a place that you liked, which was perhaps a little too pricey, but the view was unbeatable and the food was definitely worth coming back for. On top of that, you felt like you deserved to spoil yourself at least a little bit.

You sat at your usual table, a salty breeze tussling your hair. A passing waiter smiled and nodded at you, already knowing your order. You smiled back, pushing your sunglasses atop your head. 

The world was awash in golden light, the waves glittering like a dream in which swimmers basked. For a moment, as you stared off into the middle distance, your mind was blissfully blank. Not a worry to ruin things.

But then suddenly…

“Your champagne, signorina,” a voice said as an empty flute was set on the table. “And may I just add… you look ravishing when you are so relaxed. It really does suit you.”

You whipped around immediately, eyes widening and heart thumping like a war drum.

“You!” You hissed through clenched teeth, gripping your dinner knife.

Duncan, disguised as a waiter, smiled at you impishly as he poured the champagne. He was the picture of calm, unbothered by the real threat of another stab from you.

“I know you must’ve missed me terribly, but let’s not make a scene now,” he said easily. “I suppose your busy schedule had an opening after all?”

“I happen to like Italy, if you have to know,” you huffed, grabbing the flute and taking a sip. “I told you I wasn’t going to look for you, and I didn’t. You found me.”

“You made it rather easy, but I let you have a few days.”

You gestured at his attire. “And this is how you chose to approach. Real sneaky of you.”

His grin only broadened. “What can I say? I wanted to serve you.”

Annoyance flared to life inside of you, but it was paired with a familiar feeling that made you tightly cross your legs. You pursed your lips for a moment, but you didn’t really want to give him the satisfaction of seeing he was getting to you. 

Instead, you leaned back in your chair with an equally sly grin and said, “So do it, then. You can only keep me waiting for so long…”

He nodded once, straightening up. “Right away. I’ll be back in a moment.”

As he walked away, your body relaxed and you let out a long exhale. Running a hand down your face in frustration, you chastised yourself again for not steeling your will more in the time you were apart. You glanced over your shoulder to make sure he wasn’t watching you and slumped in your chair. 

A few restless minutes passed as you waited, but still he didn’t return. You drummed your fingers on the table as your impatience grew into frustration. Then you figured, this was probably his plan, right? To try and get under your skin as much as possible, make up for lost time. It definitely seemed to be his favorite activity. Or one of them, at least. 

Fuck it. Who said you couldn’t retaliate just a little bit? 

You downed the champagne in one go, perhaps for courage, perhaps just because you needed a reason to justify your recklessness. Standing, you made your way inside under the pretense of going to the restroom. You hadn’t really planned what you were going to do, but still you wandered by the kitchen.

From what you could see, he wasn’t there, which made you frown in confusion. It wasn’t a big establishment, so there weren’t many places where he could be. Half-dejected, you walked into the single-stall bathroom… and immediately the door slammed shut behind you, lock clicking into place. 

Before you could process anything, strong arms enveloped you, pulling you against a solid chest. Duncan put a finger to his lips in a motion for silence, right before he threw himself on you, claiming your mouth. You practically melted against him, any sort of animosity you held forgotten for a moment.

But then, when the shock passed, you kissed him back roughly. You tugged at his hair and bit his bottom lip, letting him retaliate by pressing you against the wall, as if punishing both him and yourself for caving so easily to your desires.

“Already breaking promises, huh?” he said between kisses, chuckling as your hands briskly tried to undo his pants.

“Shut up,” you grumbled. “Or I’m gonna put your mouth to better use this time.”

“That reminds me…”

Abruptly, he gathered you in his arms and set you on the edge of the sink. He kneeled in front of you, reaching past the edge of your sundress and tugging loose the strings of your bikini bottom.

“I did say I would serve you,” he grinned, scooting closer and placing your legs on his shoulders. “Let’s see if you’ll be able to keep quiet now.”

You couldn’t keep your chest from heaving as he fully removed the fabric, tossing it to one side. He kissed his way up your inner thigh, his scruff lightly tickling the sensitive flesh. You suppressed a small shudder, readjusting your position. 

As his tongue dipped directly into the source of your ache — the best way to properly savor you — you held onto his head with one hand and gripped the edge of the sink with the other. He groaned, breath hot against you, and trailed his tongue up to your clit.

He guided himself by your reactions — the small spasms of your muscles, your hitching breaths and the subtle hums of your concealed moans. He barely came up for air, content with the possibility of asphyxiation if it meant he’d never get the taste of you out of his mouth.

The precise, relentless way in which he pleased you nearly drove you to madness. His tongue circled around your clit slowly, almost teasingly, but whenever you were about to voice his frustration, he did the complete opposite to keep you on the edge. You looked down and met his gaze for a moment, fire burning in his eyes. The intensity of it made your pussy clench around his fingers, which he’d just added into the mix.

Your back arched, head resting against the mirror behind you. Your eyes were closed in bliss, knees drawing together around his head as you felt the beginning of an orgasm forming.

“Yes…” you sighed. “Yes! Right there!”

And that was all he needed to hear to ramp up the intensity further. Your body trembled, sweat-slick hand almost slipping off the porcelain. Your spine arched further, as if possessed, and a ragged moan escaped you as you came undone. Pleasure felt electric as it swept over you, and he moaned along with you as he helped you ride it out all the way.

As you were left panting heavily, limbs still shaky, he pulled back to look at you and licked his lips. You brought your legs off his shoulders and he stood in order to undo his pants, the hard imprint of his cock straining against the fabric almost painfully. Once it was free, he spat in his hand and stroked himself to spread the saliva. 

“Get inside me,” you pleaded quietly, urging him closer, eyes still shiny with want. “Please, fuck, I need you inside me.”

You wrapped your legs around his waist this time and he guided himself into you slowly. He muttered your name under his breath as he bottomed out, leaning down to touch his forehead to yours.

You would be lying if you said you didn’t miss the way he seemed to fully envelop you. The heat emanating from him, his smell flooding your nostrils, and even the stretch of him inside you was divine… But you weren’t able to dwell on these thoughts as he began to move. 

His large hands held you up by your hips as he pounded into you, no longer holding back. It seemed he had missed you just as much, and all he could do was make up for lost time. 

He leaned down once more to kiss you as it became harder for you to contain your noises. More of your weight, combined with his, was leaning on the sink by then. As he hit that spot inside you that made your body jerk, you heard a crack.

You tried to ignore it for a moment as his movements turned erratic, grip tightening on your skin. He grunted with each thrust, snapping his hips roughly as you clawed at his shoulders. 

Then his whole body tensed, and he pressed all the way into you in one final thrust. The sound that left him was nearly animalistic as he spilled his release inside of you… and it was at that moment that the sink gave out completely.

The porcelain loudly shattered against the linoleum floor as it broke off the wall. The newly exposed pipe gushed water, the puddle quickly spreading. Duncan caught you in his arms before you could fall as well, stumbling a little as he adjusted his position.

“Shit, that was my bad…” he panted. “I got a little carried away.”

The two of you dissolved into a fit of nervous laughter as the reality of the situation really settled in. Reflexively, you had wrapped your arms around his neck, your faces close together.

You could feel his pulse was just as hurried as yours, both of you still coming down from your highs. You avoided prolonged eye contact as you drew away with an amused grin, smacking his arm.

“Real smooth, breaking shit on your first day on the job,” you said.

He started to laugh, but suddenly, there was loud knocking on the door.  A voice called in Italian to ask if everything was okay, the doorknob jiggling to no avail. You and Duncan looked at each other in a millisecond of panic before hastily starting to re-dress.

“Fuck, we have to get out of here,” you hissed as he helped you onto your feet, holding you for a moment as your legs wobbled. “Can’t we have a reunion where we don’t wreak havoc for once?”

“No,” he said, shaking his head as he buttoned up his pants. “I don’t think it’s possible.”

You rolled your eyes but said nothing, intent on assessing your options. The banging at the door didn’t stop, and you figured soon enough they’d get a key to open it. There was a window that seemed large enough for you to fit through, but you weren’t sure Duncan’s large frame would make the cut.

“One moment please! Everything’s fine!” You yelled back before turning to Duncan and lowering your voice. “I just realized I forgot my stuff out there.”

“I’ll go get it,” he said, ushering you towards the window and handing you your bikini bottoms. “I’ll meet you outside.”

You nodded, appreciative and just slightly flustered at the idea of having to sneak out commando while you were still holding in his… Well, that was probably the least of your worries at that very moment. One thing at a time.

“Try to leave them some money, too. We’ve done enough damage.”

He snorted. “Just wait ‘til we get to the hotel.”

You bit back your retort and instead focused on climbing out of the window without leaving a snail trail. Glancing around to make sure you were alone, you made your way to the front of the restaurant surreptitiously. Twice you had to stop and hide as you neared passerby, still jittery with adrenaline. 

It was a thrill that felt both agonizing and yet somehow very arousing. You waited in a side alley, clamping your thighs together as you leaned against the wall. You just hoped Duncan wouldn’t get himself in deeper shit and take more drastic measures. He wasn’t charming enough to get out of trouble with just words, as you were well aware. 

Finally, he emerged from the restaurant after what seemed like forever, dressed in casual clothes. You lifted your arm so he could see where you were, and he hurried over.

“How did you—” you began to ask, but you were interrupted by him clasping your wrist and dragging you away.

“Don’t ask,” he said. “But just so you know, I did get a couple of high-fives on my way out.”

—————————-

As it turned out, Duncan had been staying at the hotel next to yours. You had to stop to get his luggage first since he’d checked out of his room that morning, already having assumed he’d be staying with you. 

You’d raised your eyebrows and scoffed at his overconfidence. Of course, you should’ve expected something like that to happen, but you’d been too caught up on whether you’d actually run into him or not.

The casualness between you felt strange, particularly given your history. He was definitely more at ease than he’d been a year ago, but uneasiness was like second nature to you. Sure, you were enjoying this new dynamic with him so far, but you weren’t sure how far was too far. 

Fucking was one thing, but being on vacation together… You shook your spiraling thoughts out of your head as you led him through your hotel and up to your room. One thing at a time.

“And what would you have done if I decided not to give you the time of day?” You asked as you swiped the keycard to your room. “Sleep on a bench somewhere?”

“Oh please, haven’t I proven to be irresistible?” He said, tilting his head to the side as he smiled slyly.

“Yeah, well, I’m not covering the hotel costs for both of us, just so you know.”

He scoffed, but you could tell he wasn’t actually offended. “I can pay you with my body, that should be more than enough.”

You bit down an amused grin and said nothing, instead turning on the lights and showing him where he could put his stuff. He set it all down without real care as you began undressing, making him freeze on the spot. 

But you weren’t trying to seduce him, at least not then, for there was only one thing on your mind. Your skin felt sticky with sea salt and sweat, your hair was all tangled by the wind, and there was still that little problem between your legs to take care of. 

“Care to rinse off, then? I know I need to,” you said, casually stepping into the bathroom. “Shower’s got room for two.”

You got in before hearing his response, starting by washing your hair under the stream of hot water. As you were rinsing off the shampoo, eyes closed, you heard him get in. Your other senses were all too aware of his nearness, making you jump a little at an unexpected touch on your hand. 

When you were able to open your eyes again, you saw he was washing himself. The way the soap suds slid down his muscles made you swallow hard, and he was smiling deviously when you moved to let him rinse off. He sighed with contentment at the water’s warmth, slicking his hair back, and you couldn’t help but keep ogling him. 

Maybe he wasn’t so wrong about being irresistible�� He really was beautiful.

When he turned around, you quickly averted your gaze and reached for the bar of soap, but he shook his head. “Allow me.”

He lathered some soap between his hands, taking it upon himself to wash your body. He kept eye contact as he started with your shoulders and arms, moving slowly but purposefully. Your limbs were loose as you let him keep going, adjusting you this way and that so he didn’t miss a spot.

Even as he reached more sensitive areas, his touch was tender rather than lascivious. Looking at the scars on each other was like a trip down memory lane, but it wasn’t a bitter remembrance. In fact, you felt yourself softening, almost vulnerable. So much stubbornness, so much time wasted, but it all had somehow led to such an intimate moment.

When he was done, you rewarded him with a soft kiss, more chaste than anything you’d had so far. You shut off the water and both of you got out to dry off quietly. It felt like talking might burst the bubble of… whatever feeling the two of you were so precariously sharing at that moment.

An idea struck you then, and you discarded your towel somewhere along the way. He watched as you opened the sliding doors to the private balcony, the faint light silhouetting you. 

Up there, the faint roar of the ocean could still be heard. It was moonlight’s turn to glitter in the dark waves, but you put your back to the view as you gave him an inviting look. 

Truth be told, you wanted to indulge in him as much as you could. A sense of urgency accompanied your arousal, like the opportunity might not come around again. Was it a sign? Could it be fate’s way of making you say goodbye? 

The thought scared you more than you were willing to admit, so you decided to be mindless once again. You let the sea breeze envelop you once again, but soon after his arms took place, drawing you into his warmth. He searched your face for something, but you averted your gaze as you ran your hands up and down his chest.

“You’re quiet,” he noted. “You haven’t even threatened to kill me at least once since we got here.”

You shrugged, going on your tiptoes to wrap your arms around his neck. “Does it matter?”

“Well, you know the violence is what gets me going…” he said with a smirk, but you could still see some concern in his eyes. 

You kissed his bottom lip enticingly, returning the smirk. “Let’s tear each other apart, then. For good this time.”

And so he cupped the back of your head and crushed his lips against yours. The kiss was sloppy and desperate, tongues dragging against each other. You reached between your bodies to touch him, fingers grazing the velvety underside of his hardening cock.

For a moment he lost himself to your touch, mindlessly chasing your lips as you withdrew, teasing him. You stroked the head with the tips of your fingers, and his hips bucked in search of more friction.

“Not gonna be so easy now,” you chastised playfully. “Gotta earn your stay.”

He gripped your hair, pulling your head back to expose your neck. His free hand roamed up your chest, splaying over your sternum and feeling your quickening heartbeat. He bent down to kiss your neck and collarbones, humming in fiendish delight as he heard your soft moan.

“You little devil,” he murmured. “You should know I won’t make it easy for you either.”

And so commenced a battle for dominance, in which the two of you did not play fair. You practically tackled him back onto the sunbed, frantically trying to pin his arms down. Your thighs pressed against his sides tightly, holding him in place. 

He had a great view of you from that angle, so he got easily distracted, his struggles weakening. But just when you thought you had him, he suddenly grabbed your wrists and managed to flip you under him. You blinked up at him in momentary surprise, but then scoffed.

Your legs and arms wrapped around him as you tried to crush him in a bear hug. You felt his erection pressed against your abdomen, and he grunted with the effort of trying to wriggle from your grasp.

Despite the exertion from wrestling each other, you found yourself smiling, genuinely having a good time. Your cheeks were flushed and you were panting heavily. He kissed all over your face, perhaps in an attempt to distract you, but you gave in amiably for the time being.

“Where’s your knife now?” He murmured against your skin, taunting, his breath close to your ear.

But instead of responding, you pulled his head back by the hair and brought your lips to his. Your other hand rested on his throat, like a silent threat, but it was just a little too tender to actually be one.

The stars wheeled across the sky unnoticed, as the two of you were too wrapped up in a frenzy of desire, all restraints loosened. Eager hands and eager mouths, the violent delicacy of your bodies curled around each other like snakes. Everything else truly ceased to exist.

Not much of the hotel room was spared either, lamps knocked over, framed artwork half shattered on the floor, and different things haphazardly strewn about. At last, the bed became the lion’s den, where the last of the raging fire simmered out, leading into a sated slumber.

You awoke before him, too restless from an influx of dreams you couldn’t make heads or tails of. The early morning had a melancholic blue tint to it, barely illuminating the room. You watched him for a moment, trying to burn him into memory as you followed the steady rise and fall of his chest. 

Keeping your thoughts at bay was becoming harder by the minute, especially wrapped up in his warmth and his smell. Suddenly, you couldn’t bear being in the bed anymore. You left a featherlight kiss on his shoulder before sliding out as quietly as you could. A certain bitterness slid down the back of your throat as you gathered clothes, padding over to the bathroom and dressing mechanically. 

Any sort of logic or reasoning seemed to have left you as well, since you were prepared to flee with just what you were wearing. In that moment, you believed perhaps you could outrun the consequences, and yourself in the process.

But just as you opened the bathroom door and took one step out, you heard the clicking drag of metal and felt the coolness of it closing in around your wrist. You looked down to find yourself handcuffed to Duncan, who was only partially dressed. He looked at you intensely, knowingly even, pinning you in place. Your heart leaped to your throat, stopping any words you might want to say. 

“I told you I wouldn’t make it easy either,” he said, his voice devoid of any humor.

He reached out with his free hand, but you weaved away from it like a skittish stray dog that’d been kicked too many times in its life. Your immediate response was a punch that he took in stride. In fact, he let you try and shove him, although the handcuffs would take you along with him. Your frustration only grew, and this time fighting him was different, more desperate – like a cornered animal.

“When are you going to stop fighting your desires?” He asked firmly, seizing your other wrist. “You can’t just run away this time. You owe me that much.”

“Duncan, please,” you said softly, looking down.

“Please, what?” He pressed.

“Why are we kidding ourselves?” You sighed. “We’re just horny and really fucking lonely…and I guess it helps that we understand each other. But we both know it can’t go beyond that.”

“Why not?”

“We don’t exactly have a profession that allows commitment…” you said, but he only stared, forcing you to continue. “What if they decided to assign us to kill each other?”

“I would gladly fake my death for you.”

You pursed your lips, forcing down the tears that once again crawled up your throat. Damn him and the way he made butterflies flutter around your stomach! 

“But I won’t let it come to that,” he added. “I’ve already decided to retire early.”

You looked up at him in disbelief, eyes wide. “Really? Just like that?”

“Well I’ve wanted out for some time, but you kind of… helped me make up my mind,” he said, searching your eyes to try and solve the riddle of your feelings. 

“And you thought, what? That I would quit too?”

He shook his head. “No. What you do is up to you. All I want is a quiet life, and to settle in one place so you’ll always know where I am.”

“Okay, and what if I have to be gone for a long time? Won’t you get lonely?” You asked, a painful spasm in your chest as you thought about it further. “What if you meet someone else? I mean, hell, I don’t even really know what it is you want with me…”

He frowned, truly unable to fathom your stubbornness. “Are you fucking serious right now? We’re handcuffed together. Do I have to spell it out further?”

Again, you sighed in frustration, closing your eyes for a moment. You hadn’t felt such a strong connection with someone in a long time, especially since you believed you were better off alone. Those you were close to could invariably become collateral, and that was one thing you simply couldn’t stomach.

And when you’d said that you understood each other, that had been the truth. Not many – if anyone at all – that weren’t in the business could understand your lifestyle. The guilt that came in waves, threatening to pull you under. The sleepless nights, the mastery of clinical detachment, the constant need to hide and stay vigilant. It was certainly not easy, but you’d simply gotten used to it over time.

But that didn’t mean you weren’t tired of living that way. Still, you hesitated, feeling yourself toe closer to the edge of the cliff. 

“What if it’s just the excitement?” You asked, opening your eyes once more.

“It’s been years now… if it had died out, so would we,” he sighed, seeming a little aggrieved. “Or what? You don’t believe love and violence intersect?”

“Love!” You gasped, all pretenses shattered now that one of you had finally said that word. “That’s…”

“Is that what scares you most?”

After a moment’s hesitation, where you fidgeted uncomfortably, you shook your head. “I’m barely evenly acquainted with it, but it’s enough for me to know it doesn’t prevent someone from leaving.”

He nodded once in understanding, not having an argument for that. “And you think I’m an expert on it?”

You shrugged, not entirely sure of his romantic history. Still, you could at least tell that it had not been kind to him either. He pulled you closer, lacing his fingers through yours as if the cuffs weren’t enough to keep you.

“Despite it all, haven’t we inevitably found a way back to each other? Sure, the flame that kept drawing us at first might have been hatred, but pettiness could only take us so far…” He straightened so you could appraise him better, gesturing to himself. “I proudly wear the scars you have given me, and I would welcome many more.”

Your vision became blurry all of a sudden, though you couldn’t understand why. At least not until you felt a tear streaming down your cheek, which you wiped away defiantly. He rested his chin atop your head as you leaned against his arm, not looking at him.

“And if you think I will break your heart, what guarantee do I have you won’t break mine first?”

“You don’t,” you admitted honestly, which maybe was the whole point.

“And yet, it is still yours to break.”

You chuckled, but it sounded more like a choked sob. “You’re killing me, old man. What am I to do with so much?”

“You don’t have to carry it all on your own,” he said, bringing his free hand to your chin and tilting your face up to meet his gaze. 

His expression was fully unguarded, like an open book for you to read. There was a vast depth there that seemed to invite you to uncover it, should you actually take the chance. 

And beneath it all, a most desperate hope. One you could recognize, for you had seen it in your own eyes before. It struck you like an arrow, knocking the breath out of you.

One of the deadliest men on Earth utterly undone by one of the most common afflictions — that of the heart. Love.

It was a gift, a real promise beyond what words could express. 

And so, you decided to let yourself fall.

The words left you before you could stop them. “I’m going to retire, too.”

He blinked in surprise, but you barreled on. “It’s not a life I want to keep living. It’s not life at all, really. I was just never really sure if there was anything else for me. But now, nothing is waiting for me out there anymore… I have all I want standing right here next to me.”

Oh, how his eyes brightened at your words. Like the sun rising over the horizon, bringing a new dawn. He wiped your damp cheeks, even if a smile had already spread across your face. Your heart fluttered wildly in your chest like a caged bird as he kissed you. It was sweet and unhurried, the culmination of all the yearning and long-repressed desire.

“And what happens now?” You asked softly.

“Anything we want. The world is our oyster,” he said, giving you a pointed look. “You know, there are lots of beautiful chapels around here.”

You scoffed. “Be serious right now!”

“I am being serious.”

You smacked his arm and rolled your eyes, but still felt a swell of giddiness in your chest. “Don’t push your luck, old geezer”

“Can you please come back to bed now? We really should get more sleep,” he said, tugging you along with him.

“Can you at least uncuff us first?”

“No.”

----

[baby-tini]

HELLO! I LOVE YOUR HCS OF MIKEY 🩷

may i request bonten! mikey with a darling that's chill? like he kidnaps her and she's like "oh, so you like me? should've said so." like she's totally okay with being kidnapped and being forced to stay at home

Stop, this is so me. I would be perfectly fine sitting in this mans big ass penthouse. Cooking and cleaning while he works.

-It would be 50/50 for him, he'd be quite pleased that you're so chill about it, but also.. a little concerned. Like, do you know who this man is? He's the biggest crime boss in Japan, he's responsible for a multitude of crimes, such as murder, drug trafficking, fraud and so on. But hey, if you're cool with it and you're not tryna escape or fight him, he doesn't mind. -He does appreciate you being so willing though. It makes him like you a lot more, like, you're indirectly telling him, he can't do wrong in your eyes. He just kidnapped you, took you away from everything. Your family, friends, all that and you don't give a fuck? You actually like or at the very least, are okay with your.... situation? Yeah, he bought the ring already and has his vows memorized. -He will shower you in gifts, buying you anything you want, all you have too do is ask nicely while giving him a little pout, and he's all yours. He has spent thousands on you in a day, while he obviously can't take you out, because of his... job. He'll let you order whatever you want from where ever you want, and trust me when I say, you won't even be able too put a dent in his wallet. -Your closet is filled to the brim with designer clothes and shoes, he also buys you the pretties lingerie and sleep wear. Lace, silk, satin and velvet, anything you want. He does however, expect you too give him a little show, modeling the pretty little clothes he buys, letting him fuck you in the silk slip-on dresses he buys you for bed. Although, if you do have a specific style that you prefer, such as, alternative, chic, artsy, preppy or vintage, he'll cater to it. -He does get a little annoyed at your teasing though, like yes, obviously he likes you. That's why he took you in the first place silly girl. If you tease him about it a lot, he'll just stare at you blankly, with those big, black eyes of his. He won't say anything or move, just stare and wait for you too quiet down, sometimes when he's in a good mood. He'll go along with your teasing, telling you that, you're just so pretty and that such beauty belongs in a lavish penthouse, covered in designer and behaving for him. -Because you're not allowed too leave, he'll make sure he buys or has someone install any of your interests. You like swimming? He'll have someone install an in-ground pool for you. You like writing or reading? He'll buy you any books you want and give you the newest computer. It will be heavily monitored though and he has rules set for it, including a time limit. You like doing make-up? You have a room dedicated to it, he bought you a big vanity with all the lavish skin-care and products you could want or need. Ranging from Dior foundation to Chanel face masks and YSL lipsticks. Because his girl only deserves the best after all. -He will let you do the face masks on him, but rarely. He does appreciate the time he spends with you during it and that he gets too relax. He won't admit that he genuinely enjoys though, the feeling of your soft hands rubbing the serrum into his skin. He also has a reputation too up-hold, so you better appreciate it while he lets it happen. He also just likes that you're taking care of him. Ooooh and if you run your hands through his hair while he relaxes? Bitch, he's putty in your hands. -Because you're so well-behaved, he rarely gets rough with you, if at all. He doesn't punish you, because, there's no need too and his rules aren't very strict. He lets you mostly do whatever you want, because as long as he can touch, kiss and fuck you whenever he wants with no complaints? Go ahead and do as you please, you definitely have more freedom acting like this then if you were too act like a brat. -While he is fine with you just chilling and watching tv, he does still expect you too pick up after yourself and keep your things nice and tidy. Because if you slack off or take advantage of him, or try anyway, all of those nice things and privileges will be gone in seconds. If you can't appreciate your freedom then you won't have any until you learned too act right.

-He likes when you sit in his lap while he does paperwork, looking so pretty while he runs his hands through your hair and letting him mark up your neck. He'll let you leave marks on him but only in places under his clothes. -Whenever he's not working, he likes too cuddle with you on the couch, with you in his arms, sitting in his lap while watching a movie. Or if you're cooking dinner for him, he'll be holding you from behind and if you ask about his day while he nuzzles into you, he just gets so soft, it sends shivers down his back, he gets butterflies. -He expects you too get his name tattooed on you, at some point. Not the Bonten tattoo because you don't belong to Bonten, you belong to Manjiro Sano. He will let you pick the place too get the tattoo though, but it's non-negotiable.

[scoops-aboy86]

Realize You’re Living (Secret Admirer pt 5)

Steddie Week 2024, July 5: Reunion / exes to lovers or getting back together / Wasted Years by Iron Maiden

Sorry. Not for the delay in posting, I just think I'm gonna get yelled at for reasons.

wc: 2815 / rated: T / set between seasons 2 and 3 / also on ao3

There isn’t time to send Steve another letter before Friday. 

There isn’t time, not through the mail, and there’s no way Eddie is risking physically putting something in the Harrington’s mailbox himself. That would mean running the risk of someone finding out, and that still ignites an old fear in the most primal part of his brain that screams at him to run. No matter who it is. 

On the other hand, standing Steve up for their phone date is not an option. The very idea makes his insides freeze over. They’ve both had to reassure each other that they want to continue this epistolary romance, Jesus H. Christ—there’s been too much hot and cold already to pull something like that. 

Eddie rolls over on his bed to lay face down and screams into his pillow. It's like they’re in a relationship, except Steve doesn’t even know who he is. It's absurd. An absolute clown town of his own making.

Okay. Okay, no, he can do this. (Can he?) All he has to do is relax and stay calm until tomorrow night. He’ll call at 10:30 on the dot and play Steve some Iron Maiden or something, maybe a little Dio, a smidge of Black Sabbath, throw in a dash of Judas Priest… Basically play the guy a mix tape, live. 

He whips his head up and all but dives for his side table, looking for the tin where he keeps his weed. It’ll help him chill out enough to come up with a song list. And he needs all the chill he can get. He’s lost his mom to cancer, his dad to addiction and prison, and his childhood home with them—he refuses to lose Steve if he has even half a chance of actually having Steve. Because if this whole secret admirer thing is going where he hardly dares to hope it is, this could be the most important mix tape of his entire goddamn life. 

Steve spends all of Friday so on edge that Robin starts threatening to drop banana peels in the circuit he keeps pacing behind the counter. 

“What is with you today, dingus?”

He stops, tapping his foot restlessly and removing his hat so he can rake a hand through his hair. “Nothing, nothing, I… have an important call tonight, is all. I think.”

She raises an eyebrow at him. “Oooh, is it a pretty girl?” she teases.

“Maybe,” he mutters with a halfhearted shrug. He really still doesn’t know, and it doesn’t seem likely he’ll find out tonight. “I’m not even sure they’ll call. It’s… kind of a blind date sort of thing.”

“A blind phone date?” Robin looks like she doesn’t know what to do with that, which. Fair. “Is that a thing?”

Steve shrugs again. He goes back to pacing. “It might be. I’ll find out tonight I guess.”

She gives him a minute before butting in again, spraying more Windex on the display case to get the lunch rush’s grubby child fingerprints off the cool glass. “...Is this because of the board?”

Again, Steve stops. “What?”

“The You Rule / You Suck board. Have I accidentally degraded your confidence in yourself so much that you’ve turned to blind dates as an alternative to trying to seduce any and every girl who walks in here?” 

Her tone is flippant, but because they’ve been on better terms recently—especially since Steve started offering her rides (and let her take control of the tape deck after that time she threatened to throw all of his Wham! tapes out the window)—he decides to take it as a genuine question. 

“No. Well—No, it’s more the hat than that. It messes up my best feature, you know?” He runs a hand through his hair again, fluffing it up more, then slumps against the back counter next to the milkshake blenders with a sigh. “It’s kind of a pen pal thing. We’ve been talking for a while but we haven’t met, but… I think it might be going somewhere good.”

Robin stops her bored polishing of the display case, only half of the afternoon rush’s smudges and fingerprints wiped away, to laugh with a slight shake of her head. “Oh wow, King Steve is a romantic. Who knew?”

“Not me before junior year, that’s for sure,” he scoffs honestly. 

She studies him thoughtfully for a moment. “Makes sense. Kind of lines up with something I heard the other day, when—”

But then they’re interrupted by a couple strolling in for some ice cream. Robin rushes through cleaning the rest of the glass so as to get out of their way, and Steve scoops and rings them up while she moves on to wiping down tables, conversation forgotten. 

Eddie’s finished his playlist and his plan is to call early. Not too early, just… a minute, five minutes tops. His uncle leaves for work before 10, so he has plenty of time and he’s buzzing with nervous energy. 

Way too much nervous energy to carry into the Big Call tonight. 

By the time Wayne is out the door, Eddie’s already started on rolling a joint and rereading Steve’s letters from start to current. If he’d been smart he would’ve written out copies of his own for a more complete read, that in depth analysis his English teachers never shut up about… but alas. 

Usually his memory is pretty good, especially when it comes to his own work. He also hadn’t expected this to go on as long as it had; not really. But now he can hardly imagine what it would be like to know Steve only from a distance anymore and that… colors things. Fuck only knows what he’s remembering wrong because of a simple difference in perspective. 

Because Steve has let him in, Eddie acknowledges as he lines the weed up on the paper. He’s written things about his home life, about his old friends, and definitely about his injuries over the past couple years (though oddly enough never much about what actually caused them) that Eddie would bet good money that no one else knows, if only because Steve doesn’t seem to have anyone else to tell. Maybe those kids he babysits (begrudgingly but genuinely dotes on, Eddie’s seen it from a distance). But really, how much can you realistically talk to a thirteen year old? Eddie remembers being thirteen; he hadn’t listened to anyone for shit. It was a miracle Wayne hadn’t just released him into the woods like a wild animal. 

And all Eddie’s been doing is pulling Steve close, while steadfastly keeping him out. God. 

He licks the joint to seal it, lights up, and keeps rereading. 

Steve is standing by the phone in his kitchen watching the second hand on the clock. How it sneaks around the clock face, slow but steady, until it laps the 12 line and it’s 10:31. 

He slumps back against the kitchen island with a groan. That had been an absolutely excruciating minute, and he’s staring down the barrel of another fifty-nine more until he can reasonably give up hope. Because anything under an hour is just running late, right? Something could have come up, something unavoidable like… family coming home unexpectedly, making a private conversation impossible. 

… Okay, maybe that was a stress dream he’d had last night about his parents, but something like it could happen to anyone.

10:32. The second hand barely makes it past fifteen this time before the silence is split by the shriek of ringing in the otherwise silent house. Steve multitasks, jumping out of his skin and lunging to answer the phone at the same time.

“HelloHarringtonresidence, thisisStevehowcanIhelpyou?” he rushes out. 

There’s no response except breathing on the other end of the line, which would be creepy if it weren’t exactly what he was hoping for. 

(Eddie is pressing a hand over his mouth, keeping in an equal parts amused and disbelieving laugh at how Steve had answered the phone, all flustered and cute and overly formal in an automatic sort of way that suggests an ingrained habit. From what he knows about Steve’s parents, he’s not terribly surprised, but it’s still such a delightfully dorky greeting.

And it seems like Steve really was waiting by the phone for his call, which makes Eddie want to fucking dance.)

“Is that you?” After a second, a light bulb goes off in Steve’s head and he adds, “Oh. Uh, tap once for yes, twice for no?”

It takes a few seconds, but then he hears a single tap against the plastic of the other receiver. 

(Smart, Eddie would tell him if he could. If he dared. He sucks hard on the last of his joint before letting the smoke billow from his nose like a dragon and putting it out in the ashtray by his bed. Maybe he mashes it in a little harder than necessary, blaming it for being late even though that’s really just another one of his bad habits at this point.)

Relief breaks over Steve like a wave. “Oh my god, it’s you. You’re the, um, my secret admirer?”

Tap. 

(Yeah sweetheart, it’s me.)

Steve does a little bounce on the balls of his feet and pumps his fist, too giddy to feel stupid about it with no one watching. “Holy shit. I mean, t-thanks for calling. Sorry, my parents make me answer the phone like that.” 

Nothing. 

(Eddie is smiling. Beaming, really. I figured, he imagines saying. At first it makes his heart feel full just thinking about it, but then has to stop that line of thought before his anxiety conjures up all the ways Steve Harrington, until recently Hawkins High’s resident ladies man, might react to the surprise of being on a phone date with a guy. Jesus, how is he high and still so nervous?)

“Right, you can’t answer. I mean, you can, if you want, but you don’t have to. This is, this is to see how I like your music.” Steve rubs awkwardly at the back of his neck. “Did you want to play something for me now, or…”

Tap. 

(All the tapes are on standby, spread out in chaotic order around the second-hand player he got last year after Wayne’s old one crapped out on him. Eddie cranks up the volume as high as it’ll go; he’s used to it, the neighbors are resigned to it, and Steve won’t be able to hear it well enough to count through the phone otherwise.)

The first song starts, and Steve twists the phone cord between his fingers as he stands in his kitchen and listens. There’s a heavy beat and a noticeable bass line, even over the phone, nothing like the pop rock he usually listens to. But…

“… I definitely didn’t hate it,” he says once the last notes fade out. 

(Eddie is vibrating as he hits pause and ejects the tape, elated, a few of his worries already soothed. Steve doesn’t hate metal. That doesn’t necessarily mean Steve will like him, but it’s got to make the odds at least a little better, right? He wants to say fuck yeah or I love you or, fucking… shriek wordlessly or something, but presses his hand over his cotton-dry mouth instead, hard enough that his gums ache a little.)

“It kind of reminded me of AC/DC? Like Back in Black, or Hells Bells.”

(They’re not one of Eddie’s favorites, didn’t even make the playlist. But they’re harder rock than he expected Steve to be familiar with, and suddenly he has a wild urge to know what the guy thinks of You Shook Me All Night Long.)

“One time, the radio played Big Balls in the car and my mom literally clutched her pearls and said, ‘I don’t think he’s talking about ballroom dancing, Richard!’” 

(Eddie grins as the funny little falsetto Steve put on for the impression fades into a rich laugh, like he’s so tickled by the memory that he can’t help it. There was probably some appalled, classic white-anglo-saxon-protestant-sucking-on-a-lemon expression on her face that he’s picturing, while Eddie can only imagine. It’s okay, Eddie is too busy wanting to pour Steve’s laugh into a bathtub and soak in it.)

Tap. 

“Yeah, really not,” Steve agrees, his cheeks almost aching from smiling so wide. He feels lighter than air just knowing he’s on the phone with the person who’s been writing to him the past couple months, knowing he’s proving that they’re genuinely at least a little bit compatible. “So, what’s the next song?”

It goes on like that. Steve doesn’t know the artists or albums or track titles, but figures that Secret Admirer will fill him in with the next letter. There are a couple of songs that are more shouting than singing for his taste—“I like songs I can sing along to once I know the words, you know? Really belt out in the car after a long day, or something,” he explains, and gets a yes tap in response. 

(Eddie has to improvise. Instead of another WASP song, he reaches for an Iron Maiden tape he’d put aside as a half-assed backup and scours the track list, trying to decide… Ah, that one. He pops it in and turns the volume down for a second so he can check that he’s fast forwarding to the right spot on the tape.

This one’s for you, sweetheart, he thinks, lighting a second joint—not for nerves this time, but just for fun. He leans back and lets the smoke fill his lungs, fill his mind, send him floating off to whatever time of that big house Steve is curled up in so he can spiritually throw an arm around the other guy’s shoulders.)

Steve likes the instrumentals in the intro of this one. He doesn’t really track the words at first once they start—usually doesn’t, on a first listen-through, with so much new to take in. But he starts catching on to the shape of them by the first of what turns out to be the chorus. 

So understand Don't waste your time always searching for those wasted years Face up, make your stand Realize you're living in the golden years

Too much time on my hands, I got you on my mind Can't ease this pain so easily When you can't find the words to say, hard to make it through another day And it makes me wanna cry, throw my hands up to the sky

So understand Don't waste your time always searching for those wasted years Face up, make your stand Realize you're living in the golden years, hey!

He listens, slowly untangling himself from the long phone cord and taking a seat on one of the stools at the kitchen island. When the song finally fades out and he hears the far-off click of the tape being stopped and taken out, he asks hopefully, “It’s about seizing the day, right?”

Maybe they’re building up to telling him who they are, or at least giving him a little more. 

(Eddie freezes, not expecting Steve—who had told him he didn’t get things on the first try—to venture any insights. Especially on a song that hadn’t been on his list, a last minute change-up that he’d picked with the transformation from King Steve to just normal guy Steve in mind and how Steve seems so hung up on apologizing for the douchebag he used to be. 

Or at least, used to be on the outside. Every day, Eddie gets a little less sure that persona went much further than skin-deep.

A tiny sound curls out of Eddie’s throat, a barely audible, inquisitive hum. Something that says please, keep going. He knows Steve has heard it because of the quick intake of breath over the line.)

Steve clutches the handset so hard that his knuckles go white. It’s the first sound, the first crumb that Secret Admirer has given him that’s really them, not a tap on plastic or other people’s music. Too quiet to make out any distinguishing features, but it’s something. 

It feels like everything. 

“You could, you know,” Steve says softly. “You could… make a stand? If you told me who you are, or just anything more about you, I… I really like you. I know for sure that I want to know you. Maybe that makes me a romantic sap, but it’s true. What if we find out we could have our golden years right now?”

(Eddie is freaking out. The mellow of his high isn’t helping anymore, all the floaty syrupy hopefulness of it stripped away. Oh fuck oh balls oh shit, shit, shit!

He’s hyperventilating, knows Steve can probably hear it, and he’s nothing but a goddamn coward in the end.

He can't do this.)

There’s a single clunk, and then all Steve hears is dial tone.

Tag list: @hotluncheddie @lawrencebshoggoth @sofadofax @tangerinesteve @steviewashere

@cryingglightningg @theresebelivett @sleepy-steve @rozzieroos @lunaraindrop

@just-my-latest-hyperfixation @wheneverfeasible @swimmingbirdrunningrock @yesdangerpls @matchingbatbites

@ihavekidneys @p0lybl4nkk @grtwdsmwhr @cheesedoctor @whalesharksart

@thetinymm @envyadams-vs-me @practicallybegging @imhereforthelolzdontyellatme @dauntlessdiva

@nerdyglassescheeseychick @fuzzyduxk @chaosgremlinmunson @greatwerewolfbeliever @goosesister

@dolphincliffs

[iliveforyouilongforyouvesuvia]

Vesuvia Weekly: What it's like to hold the M6

~ my submission for this week's prompt - have some sappy headcanon drabble ^.^ ~

Julian

The sounds of leather folding and bending and creaking, of a pent up sigh, of a noble, anxious, too-big-for-its-own-good heartbeat fluttering against those thin, bird-like ribs

The smell of - yes, more leather - with a slight hint of sweat and the faded scent of the crushed herbs used to stuff doctor's masks

The feel of a well-worn, weather tested, oversized coat falling around both your frames, a cold set of bony fingers tangling into your hair through protective gloves

The sight of folded black cloth and slightly dulled metal buttons, a pale neck cradling your forehead, auburn stubble shivering over a bobbing adam's apple

The bitter taste of sea-salty lips, self-sacrifice, and coffee

Asra

The sound of an airy chuckle, a curious whisper, a deep, relaxed sigh, a heartbeat that touches your own with every gentle thump

The smell of smoking incense, sparkling spices, and syrupy vanilla, lurking beneath the petrichor of sunny spring rains on the dust of a far-off highway

The feel of a soft shawl on your cheek, sturdy linen body-warmed and slightly rough under your arms, heavy, heated hands running soothing pathways along your spine, cloud soft curls on your ears, a deceptively slight frame

The sight of golden metal and silvery blue stone on smooth skin, the barely-there rise and fall of a body slowly relaxing into yours

The taste of smoky tea, home, and desperate dedication

Nadia

The sound of rustling silks, the quiet clink of bracelets and rings, the hush of long, thick hair falling over chiffon-clad shoulders, a contented, throaty hum, a lofty heartbeat

The smell of jasmine, rose, pepper, and amber, of warm silk and chilled white wine, of flower gardens and powdery cosmetics

The feel of a heavy curtain of hair against your face, body warmth passing quickly through thin, gauzy sleeves wrinkling under your movements, of strong fingers tilting your chin into her collarbone

The sight of glinting gemstones and finely crafted metal, intricate embroidery stitches swirling across lustrous fabric, scalloped hemlines along sculpted shoulders

The taste of spiced fish, wine, and plush, commanding adoration

Muriel

The sound of heavy, rough cloth slowly dragging across itself, breaths hitching deep and slow, a grumble quiet and low enough to shake the earth, a nervous, powerful heartbeat

The smell of myrrh hanging around you like a cloud, of warm fur and chilly forest air, of falling leaves and running water and smoke

The feel of muscle and scruff, of radiating body heat, of massive, calloused palms alternating between gently splaying over your shoulders like blanketing weights and hovering cautiously around your waist in fluttering, feather like touches

The sight of thick, dark hair falling in choppy lengths over stubble and scar tissue, of thick green cloth over sinew

The taste of grilled forage and mead, of healing and steadfastness

Portia

The sound of an excited giggle, springing footsteps and jingling keys, a happy gasp and unstoppable heartbeat, a mischievous secret getting laughed into your ear

The smell of air-drying laundry and soap, hair oil and cocoa butter, fresh bread and sizzling butter and caramelizing berries

The feel of strong forearms, small, calloused hands, the push of energetic bouncing against your shoulder, of hair flying around your face, the plush squish of a no-holds-barred bear hug

The sight of fiery curls spilling over clean, pressed cotton, freckles speckling creamy skin, the occasional grey and white cat hair clinging to black ribbon, the dusk of a happy blush

The taste of yeasty bread, and the comforts of adventure

Lucio

The sounds of nearby dogs panting, a cutlass clanking in its sheath, the mechanical whir and musical hum of an alchemical arm, a confident, snorting chuckle and a devoted heartbeat

The smell of fresh sweat, warm metal, cinnamon alcohol in a journeyman's flask, hair gel and worn cologne

The feel of a padded, quilted vest, the quick rise and fall of an active chest, the slight tilt of a shoulder forever sloped in favor of a heavy arm, the sinewed grip of a warrior's touchstarved fingers and the cool, metallic touch of a careful clawed hand

The sight of sharp collarbones and glinting curved gold, fine flaxen hair at the nape of a snowy neck, crimson cloth and leather straps

The taste of grilled meat, traveler's wine, and new beginnings

[pretty-little-mind33]

DAVE WITH AN ALTERNATIVE FEM!READER

Ask : Hi omg i'm so excited for Dave Lizewski bc no one writes for him like that!! Maybe a Dave lizewski x shy reader who dresses a little alternatively like a more casual goth who's secretly a nerd and he sees her at the comic store?? I love awkward x awkward tropes sm!

~ thanks for requesting, love! I made this a headcanon I hope that's okay! I also love the awkward x awkward trope! ~

• Dave would tell Marty and Todd his type was the pretty popular girls: like Katie. And to his defense, that is who he was most likely to crush on. Just like everyone else!

• That changes when he meets you.

• He sees you from across the street from the comic book store, looking in at an old vinyl store with a bunch of old books and even some cool guitars. He's drawn in by your chunky black heels and the amount of colorful butterflies clips in your hair that make a stark contrast to the black dress you have on.

• When he points you out to Marty and Todd, telling them he recognized you from Biology, they laugh and tell him he's delusional because they've never noticed you.

• You're usually shy.

• Todd dares Dave to talk to you, which causes poor Dave to blush so hard and immediately decline.

• His friends call him a pussy and now he's annoyed.

• Dave makes the decision to go up to you. You seem nice enough in class. So, he walks over and taps your shoulder. You jump and turn around, pointing your keys at him menacingly.

• "Woah!" Dave exclaims, moving away. He opens his mouth to explain himself but he's completely distracted when he sees your thick eyeliner and how gorgeous your dark red lip stick is. He just stammers over his words, embarrassed.

• "Dave," you whisper, relaxing and to his surprise you sound just as shy as he's always imagined. Still, your appearance is a contrast to the shyness of your voice.

• You know his name. Dave feels like he's floating.

• "H-hi," he stammers and rubs his nape, resisting the urge to look back at Todd and Marty who are probably staring from inside the comic book store. "H-how are you? D-do you listen to this?" He points at a random vinyl in the window as he tries making conversation.

• You don't but your nerves win and you say yes, making up a harmless white-lie about said band just to keep talking to him.

• Eventually, the conversation becomes more natural and he both end up making each other laugh. Dave is completely unaware that Todd and Marty are angrily glaring at him to come back inside and hang out with them.

• Dave doesn't care! He's having too much fun with you! Turns out you also like comic books just as much as he does.

• You give him your number and you spend all evening on the phone.

• Both you and Dave are nervous that when you're both back at school, neither of you will talk to each other because you're in such different circles. You think Dave would be embarrassed of you, and he thinks you'd be embarrassed of him.

• ✨ Idiots In Love ✨

• When Monday comes, Dave has worked up the courage to come up to you after Biology. You'd spent the entire class worried he would ignore you and the moment you hear him call you name, you spin around on your heels and grin.

• "I like your makeup," Dave says, mentioning your eyeliner and eyeshadow. Your grin widens.

• "I can show you how it's done sometime, if you want," you'll suggest in a whisper and Dave is immediately interested because he wants to spend more time with you.

• Over the next weeks, you go on "casual dates" and turns out you have more in common than you imagined. You really like him. He really likes you.

• Once you're dating dating and he's your boyfriend, the dates become more intimate and more frequent. Sometimes you'll cuddle and read comics in Dave's bedroom and other times you'll end up making out in your living room when your parents are away.

• The closer you become, the less shy you both become.

• Dave now can't get enough of the way you dress and how you wear your makeup—he even lets you put some makeup on him 😊

• But his very favorite thing? When you'll kiss his cheek/nose/lips and leave a dark mauve lipstick stain. Makes him feel all fluttery inside! He just loves you so much!