#i havent decided how they meet exactly

[chiquilines]

Public garden study date!!

[bunnihearted]

˖°🦇ִ ࣪𖤐

[cottageivy]

some ava outfits ive done recently (with a mini lore? dump? ish? about fucking CLOTHES in the tags lol)

[mediumgayitalian]

fic rec friday 20

hi!! welcome to fic rec friday. every week, i pick five fics i have bookmarked and rec them with a little review. check them out!

farm to table by @buoyantsaturn*

“There’s another group of kids here,” she said, crossing her arms and raising an eyebrow. “Said they’re looking for the Ghost King.”

I FUCKING LOVE THIS SERIES. NO WORD OF A LIE IM OBSESSED. i got an ask a couple weeks ago on what i see will & nico doing in their futures and i havent answered it yet BUT this series in particular is never what i would have thought for them and yet it fully and completely convinced me. i love the way their relationship is portrayed here, i love the nuances about will's gender, i love them figuring adult demigodhood out! i love the solace family! this series is another one of those stories that i think back to when im writing bc it's so spectacularly done

2. hopeless case by @restinreesespieces

“Nico,” Jason wheezes as he slams the door to the Hades cabin open. “Nico, I think I’m in love with my best friend.” “No, really?” Nico drawls, barely looking up from his book. Or: in which nico is jason’s wingman this time around.

i was sold on the 'jason is a disaster. nico is also a disaster but more subtle about it' like that SENT me 😭😭 such an apt description of their friendship. and leo wearing crop tops bc there's less clothes to burn and jason losing his mind over it is so real and true

3. seize the day by @restinreesespieces

“-Hey, Jason? Are you okay?” “No,” Jason snaps. “You’re distracting me.” Silence. Leo comes forward. Jason’s back digs into the wooden edge of the table. “I’m distracting you?” Leo’s hand twitches, like he’s not sure where to put it. It lingers in the air between them, making a choice. Instead of a friendly shoulder pat or slap on the back, Jason’s fingers are met with the familiar warmth and completion of Leo’s. Their hands interlock, sliding into place as they’ve done so many times before under the cover of darkness. But this time there’s light, and they can’t escape the bright truth that it brings. “How, exactly, am I distracting you?" or: valgrace dead poets society au (with a happy ending)

this fic was so FUN like jason in theatre....ur so absolutely right. loved loved this story it was such a delight to read like who cares about reality what if everyone is gay at whatever time period we wish forever

4. crush the size of jupiter by @restinreesespieces

“Aw,” he joked. “And here I thought we had a connection.” “Yeah, maybe that’s because we’re tied at the ankle, Solace.” Or: In which Nico thinks he can ignore his budding feelings for a certain son of Apollo, and fate decides otherwise.

the flower symbolism had me GAAAAGGGGEED and nico going oh. oh, no had me CLUTCHING MY CHEST SHDNSJDNS. WHY IS HE SUCH A MESS

5. stars on my skin by @restinreesespieces

“Will,” he says, “I think you’re being silly.” “What?” Will tries to hide his confusion, and Nico rolls his eyes. “You’re being silly,” he repeats. “I told you your bedside manner is okay. So why don’t you believe it? Do you think I’m a liar?” “No! I just-” “Hmph,” he huffs, pretending to be miffed. “I think you’re afraid of nothing. Nobody’s gonna be mad if you’re a little enthusiastic about healing them. That means you want to save them! That’s what heroes do.” “I’m - I’m a healer,” he says quietly. “Yeah,” Nico replies. “Isn’t that what I said?” or: after the quest group to rescue annabeth leaves camp, a ten-year-old nico winds up in the infirmary and meets will for the first time.

BABY SOLANGELO BABY SOLANGELO BABY SOLANGELO IM LOSING MY MIND WHAT IF EVERYTHING WAS GOOD AND EASY WHAT IF THE WORLD WAS KIND TO THEM

thank you for joining me this friday!! happy reading!!

[ryndicate]

Seal It With a Kiss ⨳ Kishibe

"You want me to do this for you? Then tell me exactly what it is that you want."

notes: I came up with this idea for @akiniku back in like september when i was just beginning to sniff around the csm fandom for a favorite. Dom told me all about him and i fell in love and came up with this plot and *then* I read csm lol. 6+ months later, here we are T-T thanks to @cyancherub for reading through his characterization for me and for my past and future beta readers<3 (i know some of you havent gotten the chance i was just too excited) Idon’t know if i will ever be able to put as much love into a Kishibe fic ever again so lets try to appreciate this

warnings: female reader, longer than a drabble, alcohol, virginity loss + inexperienced reader, creampie, emotional manipulation, coercion but there's consent, age gap (like 30 years between them, fight me), trainee/mentor relationship, twisted savior complex, canonverse, piss (more about control than it is the kink)

Rules/BYF/DNI

Kishibe sighs. “That’s it for today.”

“Already?” You puff, sweat dripping down your temples, your blade lowering until the tip is pointing to the ground. “I could keep going.”

He sighs again, resisting the urge to rub the approaching headache from his temple. Kishibe will never understand the PSDH’s insistence of sending him all of their potentials. Their screening is usually decent enough to keep this type of student from beneath his weathered wings, but every now and then one will slip through. One like you. Earnest, hopeful, and far too willing to do the job. This ain’t the place for you, never will be. They set you loose on the streets and you’ll be some Devil’s next meal. 

But it’s not his place to care. Not supposed to be at least. Makima won’t even tell him which Devils you have contracts with—but again, he doesn't care.

Kishibe ignores your mumbled complaints about cutting your training short, sighing under his breath. “Gonna need’a drink after this.”

He’s unprepared for you to pop up at his side, tilting your head as you ask if you can come with him.

“Why?”

The question seems to put you off. “Isn’t it good manners to take your juniors out after a hard day?” 

Kishibe huffs at your coy tone, certain you’re just after a free meal. “That’s for juniors who’ve proven they earned it.”

That seems to put you off even more. “You don’t think I’ve earned it?”

“No.” His answer is short, clipped. Dark eyes watch intently as you deflate a little, that perpetually cheerful expression drooping into something he ultimately decides is an unsettling expression on a face like yours. He doesn’t care for it, unable to decide why. 

“How’s this?” He grunts, pulling a cigarette from his pack and lighting up. “I’ll give ya a week.”

“A week for what? You're not supposed to smoke inside, you know.” A sulky tone meets Kishibe’s ears, your eyes tracking his lips and the flare of the cherry as he inhales.

He ignores the snipe. “You get close enough to me to take one of these away—” a twitch of his fingers has flaky ash fluttering to the linoleum, “—and I’ll take you out for drinks. That’s how you earn it.”

The sparkle is back in your eyes in an instant. Your sword tips back into its sheath, coming up on his left to give him a smile. "You got it, sir! You'll never smoke again. Just watch."

Kishibe rolls a shoulder, suppressing a groan at your chipper attitude. I'm getting too old for this shit. "We'll see about that, sweetheart."

He's ignorant to the way the words make you pause, moving for the door, ready to get in his car and drive to his regular dive bar. He needs the silence of the drive before he drowns himself for the night. Well, not so much silence as the rattling heating unit, the rush of passing cars, and music so quiet one might question why it’s even on. It’s simply the beginning step of the ritual he’s come to find most comforting, or numbing, on this job. 

"See you tomorrow, sir?"

“Yeah.” He doesn’t even bother glancing back as the door closes behind him. 

The autumn air clears his head a little as he finally escapes the hallways of the office. A cold breeze whips at his hair, bringing old scars and memories to mind as it bites at his skin. Kishibe takes a final drag of his cigarette and lets it fall to the pavement. He doesn’t stub it out, pulling out the collar of his jacket to fight the chill as he disappears into the evening crowd.

“That is not how this works.”

“There’s no way this doesn’t count!”

“Give them back.”

“I said you’d never smoke again, didn’t I? I didn’t think you of all people would want me to go back on my word.”

Kishibe takes a careful inhale through his nose, closing his eyes for a beat and convincing himself he won’t kill any of his trainees. He’s sent you to infirmiry more times than he cares to count with these training sessions, to bring home the apparently wavering point on your young dumb invicibility complex, but he knows where the line is. So when he opens them, Kishibe fixes you with the same intent stare that usually gets his subordinates to straighten up, or clingy women out of his apartment. Dark, unimpressed, unwavering.

You are painfully undeterred.

“I had to get close enough to take them from you. That’s what you said.” You stand in front of him, at a regrettably smart distance, looking mighty proud of yourself as you clutch the worn white box carefully in your fist. After five straight days of utter and total defeat, you’d made your move on the car ride over this morning instead. 

“I said one, not the pack,” Kishibe drawls. “And you know damn well that ain’t the point here. Nickin' them from the car is not the same.”

You shrug, a familiar petulance beginning to saturate your tone. “Not my fault you weren’t paying attention. You said that kills people.”

Unprepared for the—still a smartass answer but—wisdom of your words, some of the intensity dissolves from his eyes. As if he really needed that reminder. He still has his doubts. 

“No arguing that,” Kishibe sighs, scratching his neck. “Guess you get what you wanted. Drinks on me tonight.”

A triumphant smile brightens your face, but it doesn’t last. The barest moment later you find yourself flat on your back on the training facility’s floor, groaning at the impact. 

Kishibe flicks his lighter, sparking his cigarette and taking a grateful inhale of sweet nicotine as he stands over you, impassive.

“But I’m still gonna make you earn it, sweetheart. Getting overconfident and lettin’ down your guard also kills people. Get up and block me next time.”

“Yes, sir."

He might have been harsher on you today than entirely warranted as he watches you wince and shift, trying to get comfortable in the weathered booth of his usual bar. But really, to go any easier on you would do you a disservice if you really are this hellbent on working in public safety. Part of Kishibe is hoping one training session—and soon—he’ll find your limit and you’ll realize you aren’t making the cut. At the very least he’d like you to settle for the civilian sector. Hell, Kishibe despises paperwork but he'd write your damn recommendation.

You’re peering around the dimly lit space. It's hazy with smoke, with a scent to match. He probably could have taken you somewhere nicer, but he really didn’t want to stray too far from his own comfort zone, so what the hell. This was your own idea anyways. 

“Are you even old enough to be in here?” Kishibe asks suddenly, catching the eye of the bartender and tipping his head. 

“I came of age a couple months ago.”

Kishibe cringes inwardly at your prideful tone. Fucking great. He eyes you as the bartender begins to edge out from behind the counter, watching as you glance around a little frantically for a menu. Shoddy place like this doesn’t really have one. 

Kishibe gestures between the two of you before the man has to cross the bar completely. “My usual. Double for me.”

"What's your usual?" You ask curiously. 

"Whiskey. Nothing fancy, just cheap and strong." 

"Oh."

The glasses are placed in front of you and you give what Kishibe sees as an awkward smile at the bartender as your fingers wrap around the glass. He takes a grateful gulp, unable to help but notice you haven't made a move with your own. 

"Not to your taste?"

"I don't know," you answer plainly, tilting the short glass and letting the amber liquid catch the light. "Never had it."

"Never had whiskey?" Kishibe hums, bored, taking another drink. The double is going fast. The familiar warmth has already settled in his chest, an old comfort. 

"Never had alcohol."

Sucker punched with that information, Kishibe pauses and swallows the last of his glass before setting it down and signaling for a refill. He's far too practised to waste a drop of a drink he's paying for.

"Why are we here?" It's a shrewd question, a shrewd tone. "If you've never had alcohol, why were you so insistent on going out for drinks? Isn't that something you do with your friends?"

Your fingers tighten on the glass, a small pout forming on your lips. "Didn’t wanna do this with friends. Wanted my first drink to be with you, s-sir." Embarrassment coats your features as your words stumble off at the end, and you return to examining your still untouched drink.

Kishibe's refill arrives, another heaven sent double. He's getting the faint inkling that something else is happening here and he's far too tired to pick the answers out of you.

"Lemme get this straight," he drawls, leaning forward and jabbing a finger at you over the rim of his glass before bringing it to his lips. "You wanted your first drink out with a tired old man instead of your friends?"

"You're not tired!" 

Your tone is scandalized, pitch rising high enough that it catches the attention of some other men seated nearby. The last thing he needs.

Kishibe scoffs, scar twitching as he fights a sardonic smirk. "Beg to differ sweetheart."

"You're not, you…you're—" your volume is back to normal, seemingly struggling with your words, and it's amusing if not slightly endearing. 

"Lemme know when you think of something, I'll be here," Kishibe mumbles, drinking again, content to watch you squirm. "You gonna take that first drink? You got me here, like you wanted. Might as well."

That small smirk finally fights its way onto his lips as you give him the barest of glares. He usually doesn't see that look on you until you've gone an entire session without landing a single hit. It's cute. 

"You're you. Don't gotta 'splain myself to you," you grumble, timidly lifting the glass to your lips.

"No, you don't," Kishibe rumbles in agreement, watching as you take your first swallow. 

To your merit you don't splutter or cough, but a grimace splinters across your expression as you swallow and stare down at the glass in mild disbelief. 

"This sucks," you announce firmly.

Kishibe barks out a short laugh and finishes his second drink. "I'll order ya something else."

He's reaching for your glass when you snatch it away from him. 

"No, I'll finish it. This is what you usually get?"

"Yeah. But take it easy, that's a—" Kishibe stares, a little defeated as you down the glass. "Tha'sa sippin' whiskey."

"What's that mean?" You croak out, your face scrunching up despite your efforts.

"It means you're getting a glass of water before I get you anythin' else."

"Why?"

You'll thank me in the morning, Kishibe thinks grimly, not deigning to answer. Along with the next few rounds and the rounds after that, he also orders your water and some food, feeling abnormally generous. Maybe he just doesn’t want to deal with your grumbling tomorrow at training. 

He can’t stop thinking how strange this is. It’s strange. You’re here in his usual booth, humming an odd tune while drinking his usual whiskey, when he’s here each night, usually alone. Kishibe feels the deep disturbance all the way to his roots, gnarled and twisted as they are. 

Watching your face twist up at the taste again, Kishibe decides to slow down with some soju instead. Your eyes are getting blurry and your hands have settled into some kind of nervous habit, picking at the edge of the table as you try not to look at him. He doesn't understand your insistence here. Here at the bar, or anything else. 

"Why are you doin' this?" He asks again, quiet.

You glance at him, blinking slowly as your gaze struggles to focus. Then you force a smile, sweet and pure as a Devil's heart. It's damn near chilling to see. 

"'Cause I want to, sir."

"Bullshit." He's looked into you. Your family is alive, financially stable. You're not like most rookies joining up for the pay or the revenge. And from being around you he figures you aren't the type to do this for status. So it doesn't make sense. 

Your smile fades. "What do you mean?"

"Exactly what I said. You're not cut out for this shit, kiddo. An' I think ya know it, too."

"It's my first night out drinking, how can you tell?"

"Don't play coy with me."

You stand sharply, unsteady, a look crossing your face that Kishibe can't read. Before he can speak again, you're sliding into the booth on his side. 

"Then ask me directly, sir." You whisper, trying valiantly to meet his harsh stare, before eventually losing your nerve and fixing your gaze on the table. 

Like Kishibe has any problem being direct. Fine then. He sets his glass down and turns his body to face you. "Why're ya training so damn hard to become a Devil Hunter when it's just gonna get you killed?"

Cheeks warming, you don't look at him again. "Every Hunter has their reason, or else they wouldn't be here. We don't gotta share them unless we want to."

Your words are halting, and slurred. Kishibe pushes your drink out of reach. A fifth of whiskey and bottle of soju between you both for your first night out was an oversight on his part, even if he had more than you. 

"And you're not goin' to tell me?"

Head dropping into your palm, eyelashes fluttering, you peek up at him. "Not unless you can tell me why you care."

Kishibe pauses. He's got plenty of reasons, but he's not uncouth enough to say them to you. 'Cause he doesn't want to be wasting his time prepping meat for the chopping block. 'Cause booze is expensive and sleep is precious. He doesn't get enough as it is and he's sick at the idea of losing more. 'Cause every time one of his trainees dies, it feels like a new scar cracks its way across the already trampled fragments of his soul. 

There's plenty of reasons he drinks himself nearly dead every night. 

Your fuzzy eyes peer into his darkened ones and seemingly run into the wall that you know he's put up. "Then it's better you don't ask, sir. It’s important to me, that’s all you need’ta know."

So much for direct.

There's a silence at the table after Kishibe gruffly orders another drink, his mood for the night officially ruined. This is why he doesn't socialize with coworkers. Save people by day, check out at night. He lives for one fleeting peace; he'd rather be drowning in booze and laid up in the arms of whatever woman will put up with him.

And all he has right now is booze. He flags the barkeep. "Bottle for the road."

You shift to look at him. "Are we leaving already?"

"Yeah. You've had plenty."

There's no complaint, but there's no mistaking the look of disappointment on your face as he takes your arm and helps haul you to your wobbly feet.

"What's that look for?"

"I was having fun, sir."

"Stop calling me sir."

"Why?"

"Cause we're at a fucking bar. Sir is for work."

"Then what am I supposed to call you?"

"Just Kishibe."

He finally looks at you again and you're smiling and this time there's nothing to be unsettled about. "No honorific? You'll let me call you by name?"

"It's sir at work," Kishibe reminds, deadpan.

“And master in front of other hunters, I know,” you parrot cheekily, and Kishibe merely curls his lips in a temporary smirk.

“Damn right.”

"But not at work?" You prod, leaning into his frame heavily as the cold night air washes away the warmth of the bar.

"Then yeah, drop the honorific."

"Kishibe." His name leaves your lips as a wonder-filled giggle. The corner of his lip tugs further upward unwittingly in dry amusement. At least someone can salvage the mood for the night. 

You poke at the bottle held loosely in his grip. "Can I have some of that?"

He passes it to you. "You don't even like the stuff."

An impressive amount of the amber liquid disappears down your throat before you groan in disgust and pass it back to him. "Sometimes we do stuff we don't like 'cause we get something out of it."

Kishibe hums at that. "And what do you get out of it?"

"'S a secret."

"A secret, huh? You seem to have a lot of those." He drawls, keeping you upright when you almost fall again. Yeah, he needs to find you a taxi or something. Neither of you are driving tonight. It's a little annoying, he meant to stop at the convenience store to get another pack of cigs before going home tonight. The crumpled empty pack is still in his pocket—he hasn't had one since this morning and Kishibe can feel the irritation in his nerves. 

"What's your address kid?" He nudges you as the taxi pulls up, but your weight against his hip suddenly feels dead. "Are you—of course you are."

Kishibe's whole chest fills with his next sigh, and he quietly works to get you into the cab. The driver asks him where they're going and he actually has to think about it for a moment. He'd much rather prefer going back to his cozy little hideout, but it's a mess and much too small. Not to mention he absolutely does not want you knowing where it is.

Closing his eyes, Kishibe reluctantly mumbles out an address, and sinks even deeper into his bottle before the cab drops them off at the requested location.

He eyes you over as the elevator quietly ascends, one arm around your waist with yours around his shoulder to bear your weight. It's really no wonder you passed out, the scent of whiskey is just about crawling out of your pores. Between the two of you, Kishibe bets the elevator smells like a distillery.

The doors open into his “apartment”. 

He doesn't like sleeping here. The place is too big, ceilings too high, furniture too fancy. All those high windows and modern grays and whites. It's perfectly clean and perfectly lifeless, set up for him by the PSDH. He's sure some bright-eyed big shot hunter in it for the money and high living would get a kick out of the place, but for a man like him the space is just obnoxious. But since his studio isn't an option, and Kishibe can't be bothered with taking you to a hotel, he figures you'd rather prefer one of his guest rooms instead. 

Kishibe flinches and grumbles under his breath as the now empty bottle slips from his hand and clatters to the hardwood. You make a rather undignified snort as you startle to awareness. If one could call it that.

“Wha—” Your fingers cling to the sleeve of his jacket as you blink through the blur of your eyesight, struggling to find your footing. “Where’re we now?”

“My place.”

“You live here?” 

“Technically.”

He hauls you towards the kitchen, somewhat a struggle with your uninhibited desire to swivel your head and scan the place as thoroughly as you were presently capable of doing.

“Not what I pictured.” You wobble and right yourself, slumping against the marble countertop. Kishibe pauses, making sure you’re gonna make a dive for his floor before he turns to pull open the fridge.

“Yeah well, me neither.”

“It’s so clean.” That earns you a grunt. “And modern.”

“You tryin’ to say something, sweetheart?” He sends you a look that sends a hot wave of embarrassment across your face.

“No! ‘M just sayin’...”

“Yeah, whatever. Here.”

You take the water bottle he pushes into your hands and open it, halfheartedly taking a few sips to ease the simmer in your cheeks.

Kishibe snorts when you put it down. “Nuh uh, finish that.”

You take another sip, trying to placate him. “‘M not thirsty though.” 

Your eyes widen as he grumbles and steps closer, dark eyes narrowed. It’s impossible to muffle the noise of complaint on your lips as he tips the water bottle back, keeping your chin up with an uncompromising strength. "Tough. I said all of it."

The rough pads of his thumbs feel like fire on your jaw and he seems to have no idea how his proximity is setting you ablaze. You quickly swallow before you choke, or worse spill down your chin like a child. He doesn’t let go until you’ve finished the bottle—it’s impossible not to gasp for air as if you’ve breached the surface of a pool for the first time in minutes.

“Pretty good lungs.”

“I almost died—!” You wheeze, unappreciative of the joke, wiping your face with your arm.

“You were gonna be dead in the morning if you didn’t. Might as well get it over with.” Kishibe sets the empty bottle on the counter, unflappable.

“Hmph.”

You watch curiously as he grabs himself some water, noticing with a scowl that he doesn’t drink nearly as much as he forced on you. He reaches for a small bottle, rattling as he shakes a couple into his palm. “You’re not supposed to take those with alcohol.”

Kishibe gives you a dry look and pops the painkillers into his mouth. He can feel his head pounding already, his routine thoroughly interrupted. He can’t mentally check out with you still here, especially in this state. You look a little more solid now compared to your unconscious slump, but you’re still visibly swaying, blurred eyes drifting in and out of focus. Last thing he needs is for you to do something to yourself when he’s around. The paperwork for that would be the death of him.

He shrugs and nods for you to follow. “C’mon, sweetheart.”

You suddenly look nervous. “C’mon where?”

“Night’s over. Time for bed.”

You produce a shaky laugh. “What?”

Sweet fuck.

“You want a bed or the couch?” Kishibe takes applaudable effort to keep the exhaustion out of his tone. Honestly, you'd probably be better off with the couch, grateful for your mumbled little ‘doesn’t matter to me’. He's not sure of the state of any of the rooms, considering he's trashed them before. Whoever set the place up for him might have a cleaning service but he's never bothered to ask about it since he’s never here. “There’s blankets around here somewhere.”

Stepping into the living room he sees he’s right, a couple of soft looking throws draped over the back of a plush black sectional. You’re trailing close behind him, like you’ll get lost if you lose sight of him. 

“Sit.” Kishibe says tiredly as you circle around the edge of the sectional, looking around curiously.

You listen and he grabs the other blanket off the far arm of the couch, tossing it and one of the pillows towards where you’re sitting. The pillow lands at your side, the blanket haphazardly in your lap, are you’re just staring at him as he settles on the other side, shrugging out of his suit jacket and letting that fall to the floor.

“Get comfortable, go to sleep,” Kishibe grunts, closing his eyes.

“You’re staying in here?”

He doesn’t read into the tone of your voice, keeping his eyes shut. “Someone’s gotta make sure you don’t choke on your own puke in your sleep.”

“‘M not gonna puke,” you grumble under your breath.

Kishibe wills in a sigh, listening to the rustle of blankets and what he assumes is you settling down. Only to tense as the cushion near him dips under weight. He opens his eyes to see you sitting you next to him and his eyes sharpen.

You cut him off, seeming to sense whatever biting remark is coming. “I’m not tired. Not good at sleeping in new spaces.”

“Well you need’ta try.”

“Can we just talk for a bit?”

He sighs, but he doesn’t refute you, opening his eyes to give you a quiet stare. “Fine. What do you want to talk about?”

Relying heavily on the lingering alcohol in your veins to gather the nerve, you scooch closer to his position on the couch, dragging the blanket with you. “You’ve really never had anyone over here? But Himeno says you never spend your nights alone.”

Kishibe eyes you warily as you enter what he considers his field of personal space, your knees barely brushing against his thighs. “I don’t normally spend my nights here. And you can tell Himeno she’s got better things t’do than gossip about my personal life.”

“So you spend the night at their place then?”

“Sometimes.”

“Are you really the womanizer everyone says you are?”

Kishibe glances up to see you even closer and shifts a little to give you a measured look, eyelids drooping in suspicion. “You really want the truth of that?”

“Yeah, ‘m hoping to hear something,” you murmur, heart racing as you place a hand on his abdomen. It stiffens under your touch, but he makes no move to stop you, so you toy with the button of his shirt. 

“And what’s that exactly?” Shock receding, his mind catches up and he grabs your hand, keeping it from tracing its upward path.

“There’s something I’m hoping you can help me with, sir.”

“Kishibe.”

“Kishibe,” you correct, cheeks warming as you finally raise your eyes from his chest to look into his own. He’s watching you so closely that you almost look away again, almost chickening out. 

His eyes are locked onto the way you’re chewing at your lip, waiting for you to say something more, hoping for anything that makes sense. When you don’t his patience thins enough to ask, “Well?”

“I-um,” you hesitate before your fingers curl into his shirt, mentally fortifying yourself, “I’ve never… I’m looking for someone experienced to- to help me. I want it to be you.”

There's a small pause as his whiskey-addled mind filters out the meaning of your words. Then, a small disbelieving smirk is half-formed on his lips when he scoffs out a laugh. “Ha, no, sweetheart. No, I don’t think so.”

He’s shifting to stand up off the couch when you panic. You’ve gotten this far! He has to hear you out, or you’ll never be able to look him in the eye again, let alone train under him. So before he can, you throw your thigh over his lap, straddling him. His hands flash to your arms in an iron grip, keeping your hands from wandering any further. He’s staring at you in muted disbelief, tense, as if he can’t quite believe you’re defying him. 

“Please wait,” your voice raises in pitch, but you’re almost whispering. “I can explain, please just listen.”

“What? Cute little student girl got the hots for teacher? Or are you desperately in love with me now, and can’t bear the thought of anyone else sullying your innocence?” he drawls out, the insanity of this situation finally allowing him to release the floodgates on all the ill manner he’s been attempting to keep back all night. 

Your face might as well be a space heater as you splutter in mortification at being seen through so easily, trying to find the words to refute him. “N-no! No, I wasn’t. That’s… That’s not…”

“You better clear this up real quick then, sweets, cause you don’t have long before I take it into my own hands,” Kishibe warns lowly, soft and dangerous, seconds from calling a cab to get you miles away from his apartment, and more importantly him. 

The hard-eyed stare he’s giving you now is nothing like the way he looks at you in training. Your heart sinks into your stomach at the thought that entertaining your feelings is enough to make him react this way, turning him into this colder version of himself that you barely recognize. This is not going the way you intended, but you can’t imagine that you’ll ever be in a situation like this ever again, so you take a deep breath and clear your expression of all deceit. “It’s not like that, but I really can’t think of anyone else to help me with this. It’s not for lack of trying.”

Kishibe eyes you, his grip on your arms not slacking. You glance down at him warily, and he’s like a bristling cat that’s making an attempt at trust. 

“So…? Will you help me?”

He mumbles eventually, still tense, “Why not Hayakawa? Or one of the other rookies, they’re probably better suited.”

You make a face. “The rookies are stupid, and Hayakawa-san is just too… stern.”

“I’m not stern?”

“That’s not the point!” You retort hotly. “Hayakawa just seems more like someone who isn’t interested in casual flings—”

“And that’s what you’re looking for here?” Kishibe cuts in drily, noting the way your mouth snaps shut. You shift awkwardly in his lap and he stoutly blames his nightly routine for the way his body is sluggishly perking to life. He might have the heart of a saint, but his mind is more like a devil’s… and he has eyes.

Oblivious to his internalizations, you grimace. You don't want casual anything so it's technically a point in Hayakawa's favor. But there's one big point in the younger man's (begrudgingly small) list of cons that can't be overlooked: he's not Kishibe.

“I’m looking for someone who knows what they’re doing,” you inform him, your voice softening. There’s a sort of vulnerability to you now that has the older man caving despite himself and listening more intently, watching you whiplash between assertive and shy for the nth time. “Someone I trust, who won’t take advantage of me. And… I don’t believe the whole sacred virginity schtick, but that doesn’t mean I don’t want my first time to be… I don’t know, special?”

Kishibe’s mouth runs dry, and this time he blames the alcohol. “This isn’t a good idea.”

“Don’t say that,” you plead softly, leaning closer without thinking in your excitement. That wasn’t a refusal. “It doesn’t have to be a big deal, I don’t have anyone else to ask.”

He can feel your breath on his cheeks, his eyes bouncing between your lips and eyes for a moment before humming low. “No one else? A girl like you, having to settle for an old man like me?”

"No one has to know. Please, sir?" You plead quietly, with crystal notes of sincerity. It's a painfully sweet sound.

Kishibe reluctantly lets your arms slip from his hands and drops his own to loosely grip your waist, absently drawing a pattern on your hip with one finger. The heat of your body is filtering so thick through your clothes that he doesn't know how he didn't notice it until now. You shiver at his touch, and he tries to keep his expression neutral when you instinctively grab at his shoulders.

He shouldn't be considering this for even a second, but he is and he hates himself for it. You're a young pretty thing, and he's made a point to stop looking at young pretty things the way your touch is sparking him to, for going on years now. 

Carefully, one hand moves to rest on your stomach, caressing its way up over your covered chest, eliciting a soft gasp from you before it moves on and settles under your chin, firmly tugging it down to make sure you're looking at him. He's never cared for the way you can't look him in the eye, and he normally lets it go but he won't tolerate it tonight. If he goes through with this, that is.

Your eyes are wide, and glazed in a way that has nothing to do with alcohol for the first time tonight. Kishibe makes a low sound in his throat at the sight of it before speaking, a heavy, rumbling tone meant to ensure you're taking in every word. 

"You want me to do this for you?"

"Yes." Your breath catches as you damn near breathe the word out, your heart in your throat and a flutter in your stomach that makes you feel like you might fly away.

"Then tell me exactly what it is that you want." Fuck, he’s really doing this.

"I…" The hesitation must be clear on your face because his expression gets heated, a tiny smirk forming at the corner of his lips. You wouldn't have seen it at all if you weren't staring at them so hard. A quiet moan spills from your lips as he presses them to your jaw, not quite kissing, but dragging them up, warm breath tickling your ear. The center of your world quakes as he continues with that low, soul-quaking tone.

"Do you want me to treat you like a princess? Worship your body and make it all about you, take you to another world as I take you apart?" Kishibe marvels at the broken whimper you make as he grazes his teeth across your earlobe. "Or do you want me to be a little selfish? Show you pleasure as I know it, and change everything you think you know about carnal desire?" 

"Sir—"

"No," he warns severely, gripping your thigh in warning, pulling back to look you in the eye. 

"Kishibe," you correct yourself with a breathy whine that you hope doesn’t sound ridiculous. "Kishibe, I want you to choose."

"You want me to choose?"

"Th-that's why I chose you. You always- always know what's best."

That's so far from true, but in this realm of possibility, with you blinking those sweet little doe eyes down at him, Kishibe won't be the one to correct you. "...Alright."

"Then please take care of me." Please.

This time it's him who shudders. "Alright," he murmurs again, "Alright, sweetheart. I've got you."

He’s a little gentler this time as he tugs your chin down to him, meeting your lips in a delicate kiss that has all his nerves standing to attention in a way he hasn’t felt in a long time. With other women, he has no reason to be slow or gentle. With other women, both parties know what they’re there for, but this isn’t like that. You aren’t like that. You’re young, and if you’re to be believed, untouched. Pure. And you’ve put yourself in his care, begging for him to remove that purity. He’s not sure he ever would have agreed to this if he were sober, so you lucked out. Or maybe this is what you wanted all along.

Kishibe groans softly as you timidly move to respond to his kiss, alcohol sweet on your breath. You at least seem to know what to do here, parting your lips and staying pliant as he learns how you taste, moving your tongue against his as he explores your mouth. He breaks for a moment, giving you a warning and enough time to stop him, tugging at the hem of your shirt. “I’m taking this off now.”

He waits, and when you do nothing but moan, he begins to pop the buttons of your shirt open, one by one from the bottom up, exposing your navel, and then the black cotton bra beneath. You kiss him deeper as he slides a hand up your spine, rocking your hips into his lap as he pulls at the clasp, undoing it in a practised move. The fabric falls loose, and he presses a hand to your sternum, forcing you to retreat.

Your lips are slick, a little swollen, but it’s the hazy look in your eyes that has all his attention. “You good, sweets? You even gonna remember this in the morning?”

“I will. I will, 'm promise. Please keep going,” you slur, not really giving him the best vote of confidence. 

“Take that off for me.” Kishibe tugs loosely at your bra, the cups hanging just low enough for him to get a peek at your areolas. His cock is straining in his slacks now, but he’s too invested for it to be uncomfortable yet. He meant it when he said he was going to take you apart, and he’s going to do it slowly.

You blink at him, and timidly slide the straps off your shoulders. Your movements are slow, but there’s less hesitance than he’s seen so far. It’s clear you’re more worried about his disapproval than any insecurities you might have. Good. 

“Good girl. Look at you,” Kishibe is quick to dole out the praise as soon as your tits are exposed, half for your confidence and half because they really are pretty tits. He’s reaching for them before even he can process what he’s doing. Your nipples are already hard, pulled taut and looking painfully neglected, either from your own arousal or the air. It could be cold in here for all Kishibe knows, but the air around him feels thick, heated and charged. He’d be suffocating if he weren’t so focused.

You take a shuddering breath as he holds them. His touch is so light, the pads of his fingers calloused and warm, stroking over the sensitive flesh. You want more, arching into his touch as much as you dare, still unable to shake the thought that he might change his mind and end this, but for now he doesn’t disappoint. Dazed, you realized the sharp gasp that bites the air is yours as he strokes the pads of his fingers over your nipples before tugging lightly, pleasure rippling hot under your skin.

Your head tosses back in a moan as he does it again, this time his lips brushing the curve of your breast as he pulls you forward, pressing your chest closer to his face. He sucks at the fat of your breasts, still gently tweaking your at your hardened nubs, working his way over, seemingly content to explore.

Pleasure moves hot and slow under your skin, but your mind keeps rocketing from one sensation to another, making it impossible to think beyond the man beneath you. His slick tongue moving against your skin, the heat and wet of it stroking over the edge of your areola, the rough pad of his thumb, the scrape of his blunt nail over the sensitive tip of your nipples, the same callouses gripping at your back, fingertips tickling the edge of your shoulder blade. 

“Quit it,” Kishibe grunts after a minute, and you realize you’ve twisted your hands into his hair, tugging him closer and trying to drag him to where it feels like he’s purposefully avoiding. 

“Please, Kishibe, please,” you moan, blissfully unaware of the minor tantrum you’re throwing at you grind down on his clothed erection. “Your mouth.”

“What about it?” He blinks at you lazily, taking the moment where you sit back to tug at the top few buttons of his own shirt, exposing the top of his chest and a peek of the dark hair that’s hidden beneath.

“Let… Let me feel it,” you breathe out after you’ve snapped your eyes away from that new detail.

The slow grin that spreads across his features feels like the first key in the series of locks that surrounds the man in front of you, a piece of him that he doesn’t share willingly. Something that has to be brought out, dragged out, a prisoner in a cage of its own making. 

“Be more specific, sweets.”

But he’s still the same man, he just exists in varying shades. You squirm for a moment, subject to self-consciousness, but the ache in your nipples, growing tighter in the continued neglect, wins out. You cup your own tits, pushing them out as you lean back down to him. “Want it here. Need to feel you suck on them.”

An appreciative gleam brightens dark eyes. “There’s a good girl.”

This time Kishibe leans in with intent, and you learn something else—your mentor is a goddamn tease. 

His tongue drags over your nipples before sucking, and your hands are tangled in his hair again before you can process it, a cry in a pitch you don’t even recognize torn from your mouth. The slick muscle flicks over the tip as his free hand comes up to roll the other between his fingers lightly. You’re shamelessly rutting into his lap now, senselessly chasing the pleasure boiling low in your stomach, and you can feel him moan against your skin at the friction.

You feel the scrape of his teeth, light and intentional, before he pops off and switches to the other. The treatment begins anew and you swear you might be able to come from this, the wet suction of his mouth, the tacky warmth as he tugs and twists at the nipple still covered in his spit. But Kishibe doesn’t let you, noting the frantic ruts of your body and beginning to slow his efforts, easing you back down.

“Wait—” Your complaint rears itself as your fingers twist into the shorter hair of his nape, trying to tug him closer the moment he pulls away.

“Easy, I’m not done with you,” he rasps, taking your wrists and gently detanging your fingers from his hair. 

You yelp as he grips your thighs and flips your back to the cushions, a strength you already knew he had from all the times he’s stomped you in training, but it surprises you regardless. There’s no time to pick through your thoughts at the display, because Kishibe is bullying between your thighs and capturing your lips in a kiss that puts the last one to shame. It’s possessive, it’s plundering; erasing any other thought from your mind except the way he feels against you. How immovable he feels, his hips keeping your thighs spread, his obvious arousal against your core, his weight against your torso—whatever isn’t supported by his forearm against the cushions, just what he chooses to give you—the scratch of his stubble against your face, the ones he lets overgrow because they shadow his jawline again in less than a day. 

You moan into his mouth as a hand slips between your bodies, pulling the button of your slacks and pushing a hand into your panties, the sound turning into a high keen as he drags his fingers through your slit. You know you’re wet, soaked even, but it’s still a shock to feel your own wetness as he pulls back out, slick against your mound before he’s free of your clothing, to see it shining on his fingers when he pulls back to give you a breath. You knew you wanted him, but to see how much would be mortifying if he knew the truth.

The glisten on his fingers goes unnoticed for a second as he catches sight of your wrecked expression, sitting back on his haunches.

“Oh sweets, look at you,” Kishibe chuckles, voice tight. “You’re a pretty sight right now, and you don’t even know. A sweet little mess. My sweet little mess, for tonight.”

Making a decision, he swipes his hands on the thighs of his pants and undoes his shirt, tossing it over the back of the couch, aware of the way you stare from beneath him. He's getting there in years, but the aches of this job refuse to let his body go soft. There's a thin layer of soft skin stretched across the muscles beneath, making the definition less pronounced, less assuming, but there's no denying the power behind them as he flexes subtly, smirking when your eyes track the movement. 

"Hips up," he orders firmly, his fingers already tugging at the waistband of your slacks.

Not needing to be told twice, you shift and raise your hips as he pulls them from your legs, panties and all. You're completely bare under him, and he's still wearing his pants, the button popped, looking like a god above you. His eyes are piercing, his expression set like marble. As he puts hot palms on your thighs, spreading them even further apart, you think about how attractive he looks when he smokes, almost wishing he had a cig hanging from his lips so you could see it. 

Kishibe is staring intently at your pussy, the hunger in him growing deeper as he watches the muscles twitch. "So no one's ever touched this, huh?" 

You shake your head, whimpering as he pulls your sticky lips apart. 

"You lying, sweetheart? Not even you?" 

Kishibe pulls back the hood of your poor swollen clit, stroking it lightly with the tip of his finger, dark eyes watching your face intently. 

The touch rips a gasp from your throat like ice had been poured down your back, tossing your pretty little head back into the pillows as your fingers twist at what little slack the cushions beneath you have. Kishibe feels the flames of hell crawl a little closer to his own flesh as his arousal flares dangerously at the sight. 

When you remain silent he prompts a little cruelly for an answer, slowly circling the throbbing bud. "Hmm?" 

"I've-yeah I've touched it. Sometimes." 

"Tell me." 

"Tell you?" You suck in a harsh breath as one of his digits teases your entrance, but pulls away. 

"Yeah, tell me how you touch your pussy at night. I wanna know how you play with yourself." His voice drones with detached amusement but his dark eyes are sharp, the sight making your skin prickle with elation to be the center of his attention.

“Usually slow,” you breathe out, moaning when he moves to your clit again. Two fingers press on the bundle of nerves and begin to rub back and forth in a steady tempo. 

“Like this?” Kishibe murmurs, watching you closely.

“Slower,” your voice breaks an octave higher as he increases the pressure just a little, readjusting to what you now realize are instructions for him. “Y-yes, mm, like that…”

“Good. How about your fingers, hmm? You do that slow too?” 

You can feel yourself dripping down to the couch as his voice drips across you like honey. “Yeah, at first.”

“One to start?” 

“Fuck!” A keen tears from your throat as he slides the first digit in, abandoning your clit, the thick, calloused digit pressing in to the hilt with zero resistance.

“Or do you start with two?” Kishibe watches raptly as his middle joins his pointer in the rippling warmth of your cunt, the broken sob leaving your lips sending a irresistible wave of want tearing through his body. The way your hips grind into his touch, chasing more of him is enough to let him know that you can take more, but he lets you stay here for a moment, using his free hand to stroke over his confined cock as you writhe beneath him. 

It’s not hard to find the right angle to stroke your slick walls, curling his fingers up into the spot that has you tossing your head back with what almost sounds like a mournful wail, as if you’re just realizing that you’ve never really given yourself real pleasure before. Kishibe isn’t sure if you have to be honest, you haven’t said, but he isn’t concerning himself with that. He’s too focused on the way you shy away from his touch when he presses his thumb to your clit again, as if you can’t take the combination.

“Oh?” It’s almost a coo, delight pulsing in his veins. “Not like that huh? That not how you do it?”

“I can’t, I can’t—it doesn’t, n-never like this!” It almost sounds like you’re pleading with him, your eyes wide as you stare at him, a thick haze of shock and bliss covering your irises that Kishibe is losing himself in, pumping his wrist, tempted to add a third finger just to see what sounds you’ll make.

“Told you I’d change everything you think you know about pleasure, sweetheart.” He pulls his digits from your pussy, relishing in the whine of protest. And if he’s being honest with himself, there’s a bit of a power complex rushing through him, to be able to control your pleasure whether you think you can handle it or not is too alluring. It’s the thought of making you scream, nothing barred, as he forces ecstasty on you that you don’t even know exists on that has him pushing off the couch which a groan to finally free his cock, shucking his pants off, the liquor leaving him a little unsteady. 

“Sit up for me.” 

You do as he says, confusion scrunching you expression as he settles between your legs, his knees protesting only a little as he shifts so that the plush carpet isn’t dragging uncomfortably against his skin. A little yelp stays in your throat as he tugs you to the edge, spreading your thighs wider and positioning your hips up to expose your pretty pussy. He’s only a breath away, the scent of you thick, kissing distance really, when you slur out some nonsense that sounds questioning, but he can’t say he actually catches any sense of syllables from you.

“I’m thicker than most so you need this,” Kishibe grumbles, nipping at your inner thigh as you squirm and glaring you into submission, “But even a man with a pencil dick better be doin’ this for ya, so don’t accept less.”

Before you can come to terms with him on your knees before you, your mind fizzles out as his tongue swipes through your folds, and his groan vibrates deep into your core. If not for his hands keeping your thighs spread, you would have wrapped them around his head. His nose nudges at your clit as his tongue presses into your clenching pussy, and you can’t stop the garbled sound of pleasure as he laps at your walls, your head tossing back against the couch cushions as he eats you like a meal. It’s surreal, it doesn’t make a lick of sense but oh god you don’t care. The sounds of him slurping at your cunt makes your cheeks burn and you force yourself past your self consciousness to look down at him, the skin of your knuckles stretched tight as you curl them into shaking fists, trying to wrap your mind around the sensations. 

Kishibe flattens his tongue over your clit, and meets your gaze with a wicked gleam in his eyes as he slips a finger into you, savoring the way you clamp down right away, giving a reedy mewl. He can’t help himself any longer, one hand closing around his dick and beginning to slowly stroke himself, trying to go slow, to ease some of the pressure and calm himself down. He adds another digit, and sits back as he begins to work you towards your finish. 

“Should’ve done this in a bed,” he mutters under his breath, the scent of your pleasure thick, feeling mildly guilty as you tremble through your long awaited awaited high. Even his first encounter had been in a bed, traditional.

Kishibe hisses into your thigh as your fingers twist so tight into his hair that he’d snap at you if he were anywhere but here. Here with his fingers sweeping over your clit, watching the way your muscles ripple and tense, an obscene amount of slick and cum dripping onto his couch, and damn it why are you so easy to spoil? Why is he letting you practically rip the hair from his head as your hips jolt and jump, pleasure taking every ounce of your control away from you. There’s a wet sound as he finally pulls his fingers from your cunt, and you slump against the cushions, a looking so beautifully fucked out that it’s a damn shame you haven’t actually been fucked yet.

But that’s what you came here for, and Kishibe will not be the one to disappoint. He pushes to his feet for a moment and drags your hips until you’re both on the couch comfortably, and lets himself sink between your legs, his dick hot and throbbing against your inner thigh. It’s weeping precome and there’s a shivering sense of relief to know that his patience is finally about to be rewarded. 

“You still with me, sweets?” Kishibe murmurs softly, leaning over you, letting his lips drag up your throat in a possessive trail of teeth marks and bruises. “You ready for me?”

The prickle of his overgrown stubble brings you back down a little, and you moan as his tongue swipes over the indentations left in your flesh. “That was—” you gasp at a sharp dig of his teeth under your jaw, hips arching towards him as you feel the weight of his dick between your slick folds, thoughts flying from your mind as the thick tip of him slides over your oversensitive clit. “Oh fuck, Kishibe please. I need y- I need it, oh god.” Maybe this wasn’t a good idea. Maybe he really is going to ruin you. You can’t imagine anyone else ever making you feel this good, so overwhelmed but so hungry for it.

“Good fucking girl,” he whispers, and your body lights up as he shifts back a little, the head of his cock pressing against you and easing inside your desperate walls. He grins as your arms wrap around his shoulders, lips searching for his as your hips try to squirm deeper onto his cock. He meets you in a deep kiss, but he grips your hips firmly, sliding deeper into your clenching pussy at his own content pace, groaning into your mouth at how hot and wet you are. So tight, so so tight, that he can’t stop the juvenile thought about being sure you were a virgin from flitting through his mind, but he lets it go, not about to sully this experience for you with his own pussy drunk stupidity, closing his eyes and falling deeper into the kiss, forcing you to slow it and calm down for him, echoing your whimpers with tiny groans of encouragement.

His thrusts are as steady and measured as they can be with the way your walls suck him in, pussy lips stretched wide around the thicker middle of his shaft. Every time he pulls out he can feel the way your body is trying not to let him go, and every sink home is accompanied by a shaky little exhale from you that sets a fire so deep in his gut that Kishibe is sure the whiskey is the only reason he hasn’t fallen to pieces yet. You’re so pretty and needy sprawled about beneath him, so sunk to pleasure that you’ve resigned to just taking what he gives you and it’s addictive. His cock throbs as he listens to your mumbled little slurs about how good it feels, and he has to pause, breathing deep and hard as he wills down a sudden and fierce urge fill you with cum.

Kishibe chuckles as he sits up and you let out a whine of disapproval, but a slow roll of his hips changes your tune immediately. You’re sucking him in greedily, your clit swollen and damn near begging for attention. He brushes it gently with the back of his knuckles, hissing as you squeeze him in response, getting impossibly wetter around his length. “Doing so good for me, how are you feeling?”

“More, want more.” It’s barely intelligible with how breathless you are, tears leaking from the corners of your eyes down your temples. Your face is so sweet, so open, trusting and needy and suddenly Kishibe can’t find it in himself to draw it out on you any longer, is done handing out pleasure piece by piece, as if he were passing out candy to savor. He wants to pour pleasure over you, wants you to drown in it, to fall so deeply into it that there’s nowhere to surface to, lost in an endless sea.

One strong arm slides under your hips and pulls you up into a better position, fingers digging into your hip as Kishibe begins to fuck you in quick, steady strokes. His forehead is pressed to your chest, cheek in plush of your breast as he controls his groans, a dark satisfaction choking out the last tendrils of guilt as your fingers desperately weave their way back into his hair once more, cradling his head tightly to your chest. There’s no more irritation; the sharp sting feels like a fucking prize, knowing that the price is an overwhelming pleasure that he can feel through you. You feel so good around him, responding so well to his movements, angling your own hips and moving back into his thrusts, that he can’t stop a continuous stream of curses and praises from melting into your skin.

“You’re doing so fucking good for me sweetheart, so good. Squeezing me so tight, wrapped around me so perfect. You feel good? Everything you fucking wanted, hm?” He bites at the flesh of your chest as you tighten around his dick, goosebumps rising visibly across your skin.

You feel like a live current, so electric and buzzing with energy and it feels like there’s nowhere for it to go, zipping up and down your body only to return, shivering and sparking deep in your belly. You try to articulate that this is way more than you ever thought you could ask for, but all that comes out are bitten hiccups of his name and yes and please please please.

Kishibe is more than happy to oblige, grunting and groaning in his throat, way past the point of feeling guilty that you’re losing your virginity on a goddamn couch, too caught up in your drunken slurs, more from pleasure than whiskey.

He grins as your fingers clench around his bicep, scrabbling as you gasp out, "Ohh, nngh—Sir wait, wait! Please I'm gonna—" 

"Go ahead, sweetheart." Kishihe groans, feeling the rippling constrictions of your sweet pussy drag him closer to the edge.

"No, I'm—I'm gonna pee! Please." 

Kishibe’s s head picks up off your chest immediately, and his thrusts stuffer. "Yeah?" You watch panting as his eyes sharpen, hips coming to a full blessed stop. You feel a bare moment of relief before its ripped away and he's moving again, fucking you a little faster than before. "Then go ahead." 

You give a wordless cry, shame and pleasure clamoring in the shrill note, your head shaking back and forth in denial. You can't hold it, not if he does that. 

"No?" Kishibe feels like the Devil himself as he shifts his angle into a grind, still fast and controlled, watching your features twist as you keep fighting to hold it back. "Am I not making you feel good?" 

"Sir!" Your whine draws the title out, panicked, but your knees dig tightly into his hips, your body at least betraying you. Kishibe works a hand under one of your thighs and presses it towards your chest. One of his palms drags down over your tits, stroking down your stomach to put a gentle pressure over your pelvis. Your eyes fly wide and a moan is forced from your lips as the awful urgency thickens, bliss flooding close to the surface. 

"If I press here you won't be able to stop it." 

Kishibe's stare catches your glazed eyes, dark and hungry. His orgasm is approaching steadily now, pleasure whispering selfish instruction in his ear, and he's unable to help but listen. "You'll come so hard it won't matter anymore. What's a little mess for some pleasure, hm sweetheart? If you want it just tell me." 

Your breath catches. His dick keeps hitting that spot in you that makes it impossible to think rationally. He's making you feel so good, goading you in that voice of his that you've worshipped fervently night after night in your apartment, a pillow as your altar. 

The voice in your head is screaming no. It's pee. He'll think you're disgusting and you look up to him so much. You don't want him to associate you with something like this, to so thoroughly debase yourself. But he's making you feel amazing, his cock bullying all your softest parts with undefinable experience. You've heard the gossip about how your mentor likes to spend his nights, but how are you supposed to complain when he's making you feel like this? And he's the one saying you can p— 

"Get outta yer fucking head and come for me, girl." Kishibe growls through his teeth, palm pressing down firmly, calloused thumb spreading over your neglected clit. 

You shatter and cry out, clutching at him tightly, no room for apologies as you tear red lines down his back. Warmth gushes against his pelvis, but the hot shame holds no candle to the blistering pleasure crackling across all your nerves. Listening to Kishibe groan and curse, the feel of him breaking down into something more genuine as his hips snap roughly into yours in chase of the bliss you’re already neck deep in, you’ve never felt more satisfied. He finishes inside you with a deep grunt and your insides flutter again at the milky warmth, your leg curling tight around his ass because you want all of it, you don’t want it to end yet.

But finally, his cock twitches one last time inside you and begins to soften, and Kishibe collapses on top of you with a little puff. You’re damn near ready to purr in happiness at the full weight of him across your body. His cheek rests between your breasts, but you’re unbothered by the scratch of his stubble as his breathing gets deeper, steadier.

Both of you are covered in sweat, cum, and other unspeakables but you’ve never been so comfortable. His softened cock slips out of you, and one of his arms slips under your waist and you feel your heart thud unevenly as he moves to his side and pulls you closer. His head is still buried in your chest, your one leg tangled between his thighs and your other draped over his hip. His eyes are closed, breathing deep and you find it in yourself to cautiously run your fingers through his hair. Kishibe gives a soft, sleepy rumble of contentment and you glow.

The feel of his hair between your fingers is the last thing you remember before the most luxurious drag of sleep tempts you into its clutch of darkness.

You wake somewhere you don’t recognize, your head thick and pounding awfully. You blink slowly in the low lighting and try to sit up, but your head spins and the pain increases so you let yourself fall back with a low whimper.

You turn on your side, fingers curling into the soft covers over you. Last night had been amazing, but you’re certain you had passed out on on the couch, and as you peer around the curtain-darkened room, it’s easy to tell it’s not the same. You don’t remember being moved; you’d like to say you would have woken up if someone had, but even you can smell the alcohol seeping from your pores. 

Heart pounding unevenly, you try to calm yourself. You’d been dressed in a soft pair of boxer briefs and a tshirt far too large for you, and while you still feel a little bit sticky, you honestly had expected far worse—someone had tried to clean you up. Your heart starts to race now, fluttering and far too fast at the idea of Kishibe taking care of you. Those are a lot of extra steps to take for someone who preached respectable distance. 

“There’s painkillers on the nightstand.”

You finally manage to sit up at the promise of pain relief, seeing the foil tablets and a glass of water, and glance at Kishibe in the doorway, looking about as disheveled as you expect you do. He’s in a loose tshirt and a soft, worn looking pair of sleep pants, blinking sleep and liquor from his eyes as he peers in at you. 

“I’m gonna shower, you should too. There’s towels in the bathroom there.” He nods his head deeper into your room and you see another doorway, probably leading to the bathroom. “And you’re out of luck on breakfast. All the place has is coffee and water.”

Your stomach gives a displeased turn at that, desperate for something to offset last night’s alcohol. Before you can say anything, not even so much as a thank you, Kishibe turns and shuffles down the hall. 

Slowly, you ease out of the bed and gratefully swallow down half the water before even glancing at the pills, but your screaming head does make sure you toss them back as well, before you peek down the hallway your mentor had disappeared down. You hear the sound of running water and follow it, wandering through the doorway to the room he obviously slept in last night, the bed an unkempt mess of blankets. The door to the bathroom is closed, and there’s already steam filtering through the gaps.

Letting an uncharacteristic determination carry you forward, you open the door and begin stripping off your clothes.

“Get out, sweetheart.” Kishibe’s voice sounds tired and distant, filling you with nerves that you refuse to let show on your face as you ignore him slip into the shower.

He’s working soap through his hair, leveling you with a deeply unimpressed look that would have sent you skittering before last night, before he called you his sweet little mess, before he called you good fucking girl. You take a deep breath and speak your mind.

"I want that again." 

His response is flat, immediate. "Not gonna happen." 

"Why not? Was it not good?" You look embarrassed and distraught at the thought and Kishibe heaves a sigh. 

"How good it was has nothin’ to do with why we can't do this again." 

“So you regret it?”

Kishibe isn’t sure where he stands on that yet. “Didn’t say that.”

"But then..." 

"But what? I told you this was a bad idea didn't I? You should've chosen someone else. Anyone other than me." 

You get a little salty at that. "I might be younger than you," Kishibe gives a sardonic huff "—but I'm still old enough to make decisions for myself." 

"Old enough to make your own decisions, huh." 

You shift under the water as he gives you a tired stare, his gaze sharpening into something more contemplative, glinting dangerously. 

"So you're saying you want that again?" Kishibe questions calmly. 

"Yes," you whisper, uncaring if it makes you sound desperate. 

"If we do I've got some stipulations," he warns, voice low.

"Like what," your breath hitches as he leans closer, the water getting hotter against your back as he reaches past you to adjust the temperature. 

"Well for starters," he grumbles, "I don't have any interest in going to your place. It's here or nothing." 

"Fine." Your response is immediate, relief coloring your tone that you're not being immediately shut out. 

"And this arrangement will be temporary, no matter how long it goes on," Kishibe continues slowly, his fingers coming up to pinch your lips together, cutting off whatever you were opening your mouth to say. "I'm not the kind of man that would treat ya like you're nothin'. I'm gonna tell you you're sexy when I've got you under me and I'm gonna clean up whatever mess I make of you, so I need to know you're not going to confuse common decency and respect with love, got it?" 

You nod slowly, struggling to wrap your mind around the weight of his words. What he doesn't know won't hurt him, you just want more of whatever you can get. It's just a crush, maybe you'll figure out how to squash your feelings somewhere down the line. So you get a little hurt along the way, so what? You're not entirely sure how any of that is a problem and why he looks so serious.

"Anything else?" He hasn't spoken for a minute, but you can still see deep thought etched into his expression.

Kishibe glances at you, soap dripping from his hair down his neck. "Yeah, one more thing."

It's the most damning thing. Makima herself would be proud of him for this. This kind of thing is more her style, but he's already made it this far. 

"Ya have to join the civilian sector."

He senses more than feels you stiffen behind him, closing his eyes and beginning to rinse his hair out as he waits for you to speak first. He's not blind, not anymore—after last night he'd really have to be to not understand the way you've been looking at him, probably since the beginning. Kishibe doesn't know how he didn't see it sooner, probably willful ignorance. But his eyes have been opened and he can't unsee it; you're a brat; you wear your heart on your sleeve, and for whatever reason…its flag is flying his colors. So he's going to use that, and you can thank him when you survive the year.

"Join the civilian sector?" Your voice trembles.

Kishibe glances down to see you chewing your lower lip. "Or quit. Find a cozy desk job somewhere. Either works."

"Why?" Your demand is fierce but it's weak; you look like a scruffy little kitten that needs shelter but too scared to come out of the rain. Kishibe can see you crumbling already, making his final stab. Why you'd want him this bad is beyond him, but dirty tactics have never been beneath him. 

"If we're doin’ this, you're going to be available to me when I want you. Otherwise I can find others, like I've been doing. Finish up in here, and I'll make some coffee. Might as well go to the office together."

Despair crosses your features, and Kishibe lets the silence do the last of the work, stepping out of the stream and reaching for a towel. He makes quick work of drying off and getting dressed, bones aching for coffee. Curiosity pangs deep in his nerves as he wonders why killing yourself in Public Safety is even worth that expression, and why he’s equally as important as whatever it is. He tries to put it out of his mind and fails, fingers tapping on the expensive countertop.

As the coffee percolates, Kishibe hears the water shut off and the mental image of you stepping out of his shower flickers through his mind, ghosting along the memories of the way you felt beneath him last night. He tries and fails to admit to himself he’s not coming out entirely on top in this situation.

When you finally slip into his kitchen, dressed in your crumpled uniform from last night, you’re no longer wearing that brokenhearted little face, and Kishibe braces himself for whatever little pep talk you managed to give yourself while he was gone. He pushes a mug towards you and the sugar he somehow found while he was waiting. 

“I have my own stipulations,” you grumble finally, accepting the mug without looking at him, spooning sugar into it. He wants to wince at the shriek of metal on glass as you stir, but he doesn’t.

“If I have to quit the hunter society to be ‘available to you’, then you have to be available to me.” Your eyes are a little heated as they finally meet his, and Kishibe gives a noncommittal hum. “Meaning you don’t get to sleep around. Just with me.”

Ah. Makima would be proud of you too, Kishibe muses to himself. He decides to let you feel that victory and puts on a show, feigning annoyance. He drums his fingers on the counter and gives you a dry, measured look. “What, sweetheart, want me to get tested or something?”

You rise to his bait, snapping a little. “Maybe that’s a good idea.”

“Fine.” He shrugs and sips his coffee. “Maybe you should too, since you’re so worried about my health.”

Embarrassment burns your cheeks at the thought of making that appointment, but you push through it. “Fine, I will. I’ll be needing to get on birth control anyways.” The barest hint of shock flickers through his expression before he slams it back to its usual tired smirk.

“Anything else?” He asks, sarcasm barely kissing the edge of his tone.

Your thoughts scramble to all the things you’d listed to yourself in the shower but with him looking at you like that, bemused, confident, smug, you forget most of them. You latch onto one thing and give him a glare. “I get a key. And I can sleep here whenever I want. I’m not waiting outside in the cold to be your booty call.”

Kishibe gives you a look and starts to pull a pen out of his jacket but changes his mind. He watches all the bravado and irritation drain from your expression as he steps into your space, melting into something else, something expectant, electric. He pretends he doesn’t see it, pretends that his blood doesn’t pick up at the sight of it, and whispers the passcode to the apartment, so close to your ear that he could bite it. Could.

He pulls back and listens to your shuddering exhale, tilting your chin towards him. “That’s for you only. I don’t give people access to my personal space, got it?”

You nod dumbly, eyes wide and body hot as his dark eyes flicker to your lips.

“Then I guess we gott’a deal, sweetheart.”

[dakogutin]

hiiii i just binge read all your fics and obsessed is an understatement!!!

idk if u take requests but i had an idea and it’s driving me crazy i just had to put it somewhere.

okay so i thought of it while reading the fic in which remus and sirius hear each other in bed at night.

well…. james and lily share quarters when tnehre head boy and girl, i know they don’t share a room exactly, but i was thinking: with all their tension building up throughout the years, especially that year, one of them hearing the other even if it was so so quiet would drive them crazy and i’d love to see your interpretation of how it goes.

i really hope you consider writing this but if you don’t thank you so much for all you’ve given the fandom!

ive never been thanked for giving to a fandom🥹🥹thankyousosomuch!

havent written exclusively jily smut yet but this one's for you anon<3

[cw for cute plot but with very filthy m/f smut below cut]

=-=-=-=-=-=

Head Boy and Head Girl. That was definitely one way to have her final year at Hogwarts, Lily thinks to herself. For one, she was forced to work with James Potter often. But the surprises didn't end there as she's progressively making sense of why James Potter became Head Boy.

In the first month she could still deny it, but with their rounds scheduled together, the endless meetings, and their regular check-in with Professor McGonagall, she can't avoid it anymore. James Potter was surprisingly and unfortunately... she shudders... responsible.

She tries-- very hard-- not to let anything show, especially knowing James Potter will run with any reaction he'll get from her. But the realisation hits her harder than a Hex sometimes. And it had been too much lately.

Like that time when they were deciding on which Prefect to assign on the fifth floor corridor. It's where their DADA professor had hidden a "secret special dark creature", and no one was permitted to use that floor for their own safety. The task of keeping that corridor empty fell on the Prefects. Lily had names ready, which included Lupin. She watched James' reaction and sure enough, he protested. He and his gang were always weirdly protective of that quiet Lupin.

"Davies can take Lupin's place."

Lily raised an eyebrow. "No one gets special treatment, Potter. I wouldn't have you use Lupin for whatever kind of mischief you otherwise reserved him for."

Potter held out his palms in the air and let out a small chuckle. "None planned, I'm afraid. Just that Davies is rather, how shall I call it..." He shrugs. "A bit of a pompous sod."

"And you'd rather have a pompous sod keep check of whatever dark creature is in there?"

"If the choice is either that or Peeves, Evans? Yep."

"What does Peeves have anything to do with this?"

As though he was waiting for that exact question, Potter leaned his head on the pillar as an arrogant grin on his face matched his tone. "Lupin is one of the few people who can go toe to toe with Peeves. There's Sirius, but he's out of the question. Not a Prefect and all that. Of course, I'm another option but I'll clearly be occupied, won't I?"

No words come to Lily. He was right. To think she was too caught up with the smaller picture of using Lupin to spite Potter.

"And," James adds, "Davies loves his authority. If anything, students passing by that floor wouldn't think twice in following what he says. While Lupin can help the first years get to their common rooms without being tormented by our resident poltergeist."

It's this point that Lily failed to contain the awe from her face.

"I know. I'm rather brilliant." James waggled his eyebrows.

She simply rolled her eyes in response then.

At present, she couldn't help but have all those other similar instances where James Potter surprised her of his maturity and dedication to his role fill her mind as she went searching for him. He just had to have Quidditch practice at the same time with their meeting, so now the task of passing him the minutes of meeting fell to her as Head Girl.

She could wait until tomorrow of course, but the thought of an unfinished business with James Potter didn't exactly sound appealing. She'd much rather be done with it as soon as possible.

The pitch was empty when she reached it. Practice must've been over. For a moment she dreaded the more complicated prospect of searching for James in the entire castle, but that was when she spotted Sirius Black.

"Where's your other half?" she demanded.

"Evans," he noted. "Good morning to you too." Then he proceeded his steps.

"Black, wait." Lily held out the paper. "Why don't you give him this."

He stared at it for a second, then glanced up to her. "I'm allergic to official documents. Sorry."

"Don't be an arse. I'm just asking you to pass it to him since you're attached at the hip anyways. And it would spare me the trouble of having to look for him."

"Do it yourself." Black grinned. "He's in the changing rooms, doodling the team's strategy like a proper swot."

Lily sighed. "Why can't you do it? Please," she added, begrudgingly.

Black shrugged, already walking off. "I'm not the Head Girl."

He was gone before she could even form a retort.

After dragging her feet to the changing rooms she found it as empty as the Quidditch pitch. Lily debated simply sending her owl, but in the end she decided against it since the Owlery is in yet another tower. She cursed Sirius Black in her head, dismissing this as some stupid prank. Honestly, why hadn't she expected that?

She then heard a distant noise. Someone was inside. Lily proceeded further and was about to call out Potter's name when she recognised the sound of water spraying down on tiled floors.

If this person really was Potter, he was in the middle of a shower.

Lily clamped her mouth shut and cursed Sirius Black again, retracting her steps as silently as possible.

As she turned for the exit she heard a noise from the shower. She thought it had been a hum-- that maybe James Potter was one of those people who sang while showering...

Except it was too faint and too guttural to be a hum.

When Lily heard the noise again, she was more than certain he wasn't singing. The noise shot right through her, leaving a shudder. She needed to leave. Now.

But as another soft moan echoed in the small room, Lily could distinctly tell it was indeed James Potter's raspy voice. And that just made everything worse.

Her face heated as it became harder to breathe. Suddenly all she could picture was James Potter-- just a few steps away-- completely naked, sopping wet... and touching himself. Her treacherous mind reminded her how he's always been showing off about his form and how he worked hard during the summer, plus with playing Quidditch all these years. The thought of that form he worked so hard on right now?

Lily swallowed, and that's when she realised her mouth was watering. She was mortified as much as she found herself frozen. Another moan slipped out from behind her, deeper and gruffer. And just like that her mouth wasn't the only thing that's wet.

She needed to go. She needed to go. She needed to go. "Fuck!" she hissed a whisper. This was wrong on so many levels.

One foot was out of the room when-- she dropped her wand.

Horrified, she didn't waste time picking it up and bolting out. She could only hope James Potter was... too busy... to have heard that.

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

Lily stayed at a deserted hallway overlooking the Great Lake for Merlin knows how long just collecting herself, questioning her life choices, and wondering if she should Obliviate herself. The thing is, distraction was just about impossible. She'd find herself circling back to all those sinful thoughts, and those sounds.

A voice broke through her spiral. She jumped at the unexpectedness but failed to make out the words. Turning to face the person, her knees almost gave out to the sight of none other than James Potter. He was still wearing his Quidditch uniform, which only sculpted his indeed very fit form. Why? Wasn't his practice over? Hadn't he already showered? Why did he have to wear that now?

She stared at him for a while and she saw how he was still expecting a response. "What did you say?" she asked dumbly.

Hands shoved in his pockets and grinning slightly, he stepped closer. "I said, are you all right?"

"Why wouldn't I be?" "Lily felt her breathing become unsteady once more and internally cursed herself. "And... why would you just come out of nowhere to ask me that? How did you even find me? What do you want?"

"Right," Potter chuckled. "You seem tense."

Lily took a deep breath. "I'm just tired. Look, I only meant to give you this." And finally, she was relieved from her task.

"Thanks, Evans." He said without sparing more than a second's glance at the paper.

"Sure." She then fixed her bag over her shoulder and walked past James Potter.

"Wa- where're you going?" He called behind her.

"Erm..." She hated that she didn't have an immediate reply. Anywhere was honestly better, with all those feelings she'd just shoved down already coming back to the surface as Potter looked at her with those round searching eyes. "My room."

"It's 4 in the afternoon on a Saturday."

"Your point being?"

Potter shut his mouth, whatever he wanted to say was left in his thoughts. "Nevermind."

"Okay... well, I'll see you around." Lily turned away once more.

"Actually, I wanted to ask you something."

"The answer is still no, Potter."

He laughed. "Not that." He stepped closer again, taking away the distance Lily just made.

"What is it..." She could smell his aftershave this close.

His glasses were skewed as his eyes scanned her. For the first time Lily felt an impulse to fix it on his nose. "Have you been looking for me?" he asked.

Lily had no idea how to deal with a James Potter like this. He was speaking in a softer voice and he was giving her a gentler gaze. It was far from his usual loud and uncaring tone along with his brazen grin. "I was," she replied. "Just to give you that."

"Right. And you were at the Quidditch pitch?"

She didn't like where this was headed. "Yeah. You had practice, of course that's where I'd look." At that, he simply nodded. "Why do you need to know?" she challenged.

James Potter's grin was back. "Guess I'm just curious."

Don't answer. Don't answer. Don't answer. "About what?"

He shrugged. "How long you can avoid what you know I'm talking about."

Lily decided to play his game. "What are you talking about?"

"Sirius told me he saw you," he said, stepping closer.

Lily held his gaze. "Oh? What else did he say?"

"That he told you where I was."

Nope. She couldn't do it. "Have you no shame?" Lily turned away, her cheeks heating up. "Whatever, okay. I didn't see anything."

Potter broke into a laugh. Of course he had no shame. "I didn't mean to make you... tense."

Still refusing to meet his face, Lily replied, "I'm perfectly fine."

"Evans," he called soflty, "I can tell your face is red."

"Maybe because this topic is largely inappropriate!"

"Alright, sorry," he said with another wave of chuckles. "I'm letting you go now."

Lily sighed in relief. "Thank you." She made one move to head off when Potter spoke once more.

"Just thought I'd let you know, I'd recognise your perfume anywhere."

There was just no way she was getting out of this unscathed. It became clear she should just stop resisting. Lily turned. "So, you knew I walked in."

Surprise was evident on Potter's face. Perhaps he expected Lily to walk away. "Not at first," he admitted.

"But you continued anyway." Lily took slow but consistent steps like a prowling cat, stopping right in front of Potter. He followed her every move with his gaze alone, half-lidded eyes trailed down to hers. "Would you do that if anyone else had walked in?" she added in a murmur.

Potter tilted his head. He had a dazed look, and his lips were parted. "You know I wouldn't."

Already this close, it didn't take much for their lips to meet in a kiss.

A shudder spread through Lily's skin in hearing a pleased but muffled sound from Potter. The thought of drawing more of those sounds from him filled her with dark anticipation. Big warm hands caressed her softly as she tugged on his hair. Too lost with the slick heat of James Potter's mouth, she gasped at the sudden solid brick of the wall against her back. James was crowding her there-- in the middle of the hallway where anyone could pass by and see.

"James..." she mumbled against his lips.

He responded with a groan, strong arms squeezing her. It was remarkably secure in his hold, and she could definitely feel his form. She took a self-indulgent moment to let her hands explore, never leaving his lips. From his sturdy chest to the narrowing of his waist. Merlin, she could do this for hours.

"Mmph..." James let out a deeper moan, and she felt it on her neck. "Lily..." His voice this close to her ear was nothing compared to hearing it in the shower. And for him to moan her name...

Lily's knees threatened to give out, and the certainty of being held firm by James almost convinced her. Instead, the palm on his chest pushed him until their lips were apart. "Not here," she whispered.

James stared at her for a while, still caught in a daze. She watched as her words settled in his mind, dilated pupils scanning her until they widened in realisation. Then, a smirk stretched his swollen lips. He looks as though the disbelief hasn't left him. That this really is happening. In all fairness, Lily couldn't believe it too.

"Wipe that stupid expression away and find us somewhere private, will you," she said with a chuckle.

His smirk stretched into a grin. "Yes, ma'am." He stole one last kiss before stepping back, pulling her with their linked hands.

James led them to an empty classroom. With a wave of his wand the lock clicked, and he was instantly back on her like a starved man, guiding her to the nearest desk. Lily welcomed every kiss before pulling his tight uniform over his head. "You found this room really quickly, huh." She couldn't help but notice.

"Hmm?" His shirt was now off, his hair was messier, and his glasses sat crookedly on his nose.

Finally, Lily fixed his glasses. "I just said, you seem to always know which places to look. You found me easily too, just earlier. I had to look for you for hours!"

Two blinks until he managed a response. "Oh." He shrugged. "Just... great sense of direction. May I?" he asked, glancing to the buttons of her shirt.

Lily gave him a look. "Since when were you a gentleman?" she said, then proceeded to unbutton herself. Much to her satisfaction, his eyes never left her hands.

"Since," he swallowed thickly, "since you bothered to find out."

"That doesn't make sense." Lily let her shirt fall from her shoulders and perched on the desk.

James' breaths were heavier. "No, it doesn't." His eyes stayed stuck on her breasts. He would lift his gaze to her eyes but they'd constantly fall back down. It was adorable.

With a fond smile straining her cheeks, Lily reached for James' hand and placed it on her left tit. "You can touch me, you know." She then pulled him closer, parting her legs to make space. "I want you to touch me."

A surprised laugh left James' throat. He bit his bottom lip, if only to contain his wide grin. "Fuck, Lily..." James surged forward into a desperate kiss, pressing down until Lily was lying back. Her skirt hitched up until it was now loosely around her waist. She could feel everything in this position, the most prominent being the erection against her own wetness, and the thrilling fact of being separated only by a few layers of clothing.

She bucked her hips impatiently, grinding against James. The groan she elicited from him went directly into her mouth. It's then she zeroed in on one goal. She needed to hear more.

While James' hands were otherwise engrossed with feeling up Lily's tits, she trailed hers downward, reaching for a buckle. James noticed with a gasp and pulled off to shoot her a look of pure want. Hooded eyes, heaving chest, and swollen lips curled into a grin. He was the image of a wet dream.

James watched as her deft fingers unbuttoned him, tugged his pants to pull out his hard cock. It fell right between her legs, sitting on top of the wet patch of her panties. Then, she stroked.

She was rewarded with a shaky moan from the man on top, his head dropped to rest on her neck as she found a rhythm. Right next to her ear, she could hear the shaky sighs and the small whimpers whenever she twisted her wrist just so. Then, an idea popped in her head.

"This was what you were doing in the shower?" she cooed.

"Oh, fuck..." he drawled before dissolving into a short laugh. He rocked his hips, aiding Lily's fist. It caused his cock to graze against her clit. She jolted in surprise just as a moan escaped her lips. "No," James continued, now gazing down at her. "This is infinitely better."

"James..." she whined, pleading. She didn't know what exactly, just that she wanted him to do something.

It's as though she flipped a switch in James' brain. He pulled up from lying on top of her, closed one hand around his cock and used his other to dip inside Lily's underwear, finally sliding his finger through her slick folds. Lily sobbed out a moan, her head falling back.

The finger stopped teasing and finally rubbed her clit. With Lily's mouth hanging open, she reconnected their lips until they swallowed each other's moans. Her hand that was still around his cock started jerking him off in time with his fingers. It prompted James to slip them inside her waiting hole and her other arm instantly flew around his shoulders, gripping tightly to ground herself from the whirlwind of pleasure.

They stayed in that perfect dance for a while as James' fingers tested different angles and eliciting different responses from Lily. When he found that delicious spot inside her, and she cried out from beneath him, he pulled out. Then, he got off her completely.

Before Lily could even form her protest, getting on her elbows to find exactly where he is, she was met with the sight of James getting on his knees between her legs. He delicately slid her knickers to one side-- then licked a stripe up her wet cunt.

Her head fell back down as she moaned hoarsely, a distant thought crossed her mind that hoped no one passed by this classroom, but it was quickly replaced by that same wave of arousal when she felt two fingers slip inside her again.

Just as she'd thought it couldn't get any better, James would moan-- and the vibrations went directly where his mouth kissed and sucked. It was too much.

"James!" She panted. "James, fuck, I'm... I think I'm go--" But James wasn't interested in helping her finish her sentence, speeding up his fingers, sucking harder, and moaning louder. She didn't stand a chance. Lily came in waves and waves, writhing in place as she was powerless to James' firm grip.

When the high subsided and she felt one with her body again, she didn't waste time pulling James up to his feet and smashing their lips to a heated kiss. Her hands crawled to his neglected cock, hot and leaking, and stroked him with all the intent to see him fall apart. His jaw fell slack and all he could do was turn into a mess of whimpers and groans.

A twitch in her hand told her he was close, and then he was coming a rope of hot white on her. It seemed forever that he recovered from his peak. "Fucking hell," he said after taking his first breath. "I don't think I came this hard in my life." He shook with laughter. The sight prompted a surge of emotion in Lily's chest that she couldn't help but drag him back into a long kiss.

The only coherent thought in her head was this couldn't be the last time this happened. "Ask me again, Potter," she said breathlessly, fixing his glasses back to the bridge of his nose.

It took him a long while to figure out what she wanted him to say, until finally, he grinned. "Lily Evans, will you go on a date with me to Hogsmeade?"

She mirrored his grin. "I'd go on a date with you wherever, James Potter."

The elation on his face could light up the entire castle on Christmas day. He let out one huff of laughter before collapsing on top of her and drowning her in kisses.

[st-pop]

SWAP AU!!

Details:

Reiju:

Everything from sanji’s 2nd backstory is the same until the part where reiju helps him escape to the orbit

Rather than Sanji escaping to the orbit for freedom, little sanji, realizing that reiju is also ‘emprisoned’ in a way chose to make reiju leave instead to ‘be free from judges rule’

in the end reiju escaped germa instead of sanji, with the promise that she would come back to save him

(Im pretty sure that reiju had her humanity but still was unable to not follow whatever judge said, dont come after me if this isnt right, im surviving off of spoilers since im on skypiea 🫶)

Reiju, on the orbit didn’t really do much other than decide to work on the ship until they reached land

But then, oh no! The cook pirates attack! Reiju’s fine though because of her Germa abilities, she did save the captain of the cook pirates however and bring him to land..wonder how that will play out later in the story

Anyways, once on land she starts to go in hiding because while on the orbit she finds a newspaper detailing how germa/judge is looking for her

Overtime she ends up working for an anonymous assassination network (since killing was what she had been practically raised to do) called ‘Baroque works’ as Poison Tulip, as Mr. 1’s partner. (Ms.Doublefinger is forced to be Bon Clay/Mr 2’s partner dispite him not wanting/needing a partner :’))

She meets the SwitchAU! crew (which was only Ace, Nojiko, and Kuina at the time) when she had been attempting to assassinate kuina as she was on Baroque Works’s ‘hit-list’ (For more context, a few years back when Baroque Works had attempted to recruit Kuina, like Zoro in the OG universe, she beat up one of the millions and (coincidentally) the Mushi-Mushi line the millions had on that directly connected to Crocodile’s office had turned on. Kuina (unknowing of the Mushi-Mushi line) said something like ‘After a while, crocodile!’ As a catchy goodbye (knowing nothing about Mr.0’s identity) completely unaware of the fact she gave the actual Crocodile a bloody heart attack and got herself on Baroque Works’s top hitlist and for the past few years she’s had to deal with baroque works assassins)

Before Kuina and Reiju can actually begun fighting, Nojiko throws a tangerine (picked up from onland) to reiju saying ‘You look like you havent gotten to eat in days’, Reiju expects this to be something to keep her off her guard, or perhaps a taunt but quickly sees the rest the crew, (Kuina waiting patiently for her to eat and Ace flashing her a grin before telling her they have more food in the back if she needs any) and realizes that they’re genuine.

This reminds her of Sanji and shes explains that originally she was to kill the swordswoman however now shes changed her mind and has decided that she’d like to join the crew.

Nojiko and Kuina are suspicious but after seeing their captain’s grin they realize that anything they say wont be much use so they just sorta accept it

And thats how in this au reiju joined the SwitchAu! Crew!,

Kuina:

Ok so for kuina i’ve always liked the idea that her story would exactly be like Zoro’s, so that what im going to do here

the only different is that Zoro died young instead when he was training, kuina took up the 3 sword style technique to commemorate him

Ik that this isn’t really for kuina but i just have to put this here, in this AU tashigi is a dude who looks identical to Zoro (tashigi was so important to Zoro’s story in the OG timeline so i feel its only right to do the same for kuina. Tashigi’s personality, glasses and morals are all still the same tho ^^

Ok this is it for now, i’ll edit this later and slowly add the rest of the AU’s Backstories when i’ve got the time 🫶

[datesinredink]

Heyyy so maybe I'm insane but. Do NOT Take This Cat Home (which I'll shorten to Dnttch) yandere rottmnt au. Hmmm. I havent slept in 24 hours so I don't know how you would meet them but I do know that it would be very fun to think about how the weird eldritch horror/"OH NO THEY EAT PEOPLE" part would come into play.

Oh wait actually IDEA you could start off meeting one of the turtles (probably Mikey, he'd be most likely to stick around instead of eating you and convince you to take him home because he's so lost and hungry in this new place, couldn't you pleeaaase take pity on this poor turtle?) and then over time, since we know in the Dnttch universe, the cat multiplies in at least two ways (I, in fact have not seen all the endings yet), so the first turtle could gather the other three over time. One could be from a plushie in the pet shop or won at the carnival (prob Raph), the second could be from the movie theater (Leo, I think the hypnosis is weirdly fitting for him), and the final one... Wait. I'm not sure. THERES A LITTLE LIVE PETS TURTLE???? YEAH OK THATS FUNNY I'LL PUT IT IN.

Buuuuuuttttt after the four are all gathered and living in your house (despite your insistence that you couldn't possibly afford to support them. luckily, despite occasionally waking up and seeing one of them in the corner of your room drooling, they've never shown any need to eat) they've gotten a bit attached. They saw you as a possible meal, at first, then a convenient hiding place, but they seem to have found themselves getting attached. They decide that since you've helped them soo much, that they should at least return the favor before they decide to eat you(something you're frighteningly aware they've almost done- the still healing scar from the last time the red one visited your room) or leave.

Now, you feel constant eyes staring holes into your back, and your rude coworkers now either show up on the news with their bones picked almost clean or don't turn up at all. Now, sometimes they'll bring back one of their kills to share with you (after all, aren't you hungry? They've seen you eat, but surely it isn't filling enough to really sustain you- to them, that's why you seem so tired all the time). Since you always turn them down, maybe instead they'll just have you help them store the leftovers!

Raph, as they've taken to calling the biggest of them, eats more frequently than the others to sustain his growth, so there can sometimes be extras that the other three don't particularly want at the time. He even goes out of his way to help you with tearing and cutting apart the meat! It's almost sweet, if only for the weight of what exactly you're putting in Tupperware right now.

Leo gets more aggressive about your attention now, always begging you to play games or watch TV with him. Sometimes he's even fine with just reading comics in the same place, as long as he gets to hold onto you in some way. It's annoying at best in the morning when you have to go to work, but downright terrifying when his marks flare up late at night after you've just insisted for the 10th time that you're tired and don't want to deal with him. Usually, the threat of flickering blue light vaguely forming some kind of sword is enough to convince you otherwise.

Mikey tries his best to help you adjust to your new roommates! He knows how stressed out you are about work, you should tell him about it! He'll even take notes about how they can all brighten your day, so feel free to speak your mind about that horrible lady who yelled at you today. Was she your boss? A coworker? Maybe a customer who asked for the manager? He'll give you a warm hug and reassure you that everything will be ok, and that maybe you should teach him a new recipe from granny's cookbook tonight to take your mind off things! The scene you wake up to the next morning is Mikey humming to himself while the girl's flesh sizzles in the pan you let him borrow last night, Raph drooling over said slab of meat, as well as Donnie and Leo playing the most intense game of rock paper scissors (a game they're glad you taught them- how else would they make decisions) to decide who gets the first plate of food.

Donnie's always useful to have around, his fascination with human technology quickly being honed into electronic mastery. Despite his more reclusive nature, he's still gotten you out of many a pinch with malfunctioning devices, like when you sorrowfully cradled your old toaster in your arms on your way to trash it, only for him to take it from you and return it a couple days later fixed up like new. You appreciate his contributions, and though you're the beta tester for a multitude of his dangerous inventions, with the amount he does for you, it's hard to not feel like you owe him, especially when he himself openly agrees with that point. You just wish he'd give you a break from the explosions...

[tired-fandom-ndn]

your post on the extended abernant family and will readings is making me want more on the abernant family as a whole not just adaine, aelwyn, and the parent’s whose names i cant spell if i tried

just adaine and aelwyn having an extended stay in fallinel because word spreads amongst the family that the two nieces/how ever many great grandkids have returned home after so many years

and they just have a small (actually quite large) and impromptu family reunion

where the sisters tell their tales of solace and in return they get a general info dump of their family members they havent seen since they were quite small

and oisin is getting a shovel talk in the corner by their dragon born cousins and after that they start binding over dragon things like their hoards and etc. while the elves catch up

[context]

YES YES YOU GET ME ANON THIS IS EXACTLY WHAT I WAS THINKING ABOUT

They get a letter from a great great aunt just complaining about how they were in Fallinel and didn't even visit their family except for their useless father??? The fact that they were in PRISON is not relevant, their aunt would've posted bail for them if she'd known! Anyway the whole family is getting together for a reunion and they HAVE to come, obviously, grandma's been asking about them for AGES and don't they want to see everyone and meet their new baby cousins??

Adaine and Aelwyn aren't given the chance to argue, they're just told a time and place (their grandma's castle, the same one she'll eventually leave to Adaine) and invited to bring any friends/partners/children (their family does not understand how old they are). Adaine drags Oisin with and maybe the Bad Kids if she can convince them; maybe even Ivy if she and Aelwyn are a thing. They have to have a powerpoint presentation for everyone going with, covering all the most important people and explaining to Oisin why exactly there's a giant fucking dragon skeleton so that he's not caught off guard or made to feel threatened.

There are. So many fucking elves. And half-elves and silver dragonborns and a scattering of other races from marriages. But just A LOT of elves with very long names who are all speaking different dialects of Elvish and still seem to understand each other somehow?? Adaine and Aelwyn are both MOBBED by family members they haven't seen since they left Fallinel (or even earlier, I could see their parents isolating them from the family) and even by family members they've never met; there's an uncle who left to become a forest hermit and that reunion is the first time anyone's seen or heard from him in 300 years.

They get people picking at their hair and complaining about how much fashion has changed (that cousin still wears their hair in styles that were popular 1,000 years ago), older family bragging about being related to the Elven Oracle, teen cousins wondering why they weren't sent to Kei Lumennura too, their grandma praising them for being so lovely and intelligent and good and how on earth did her useless grandchild (I can't decide if I like Angwyn or Arianwen being the Abernant more) produce such wonderful children, and lots of baby cousins getting shoved into their arms. One of their uncles asks why Adaine didn't just talk directly to their cousin in the Court of Stars about being paid and she's like what fucking cousin?????? They get passed around the reunion for hours and spend what feels like every possible moment of the days (and weeks?) following telling every single family member stories about their adventures and life in Solace; their little cousins play games about their adventures, pretending to defeat the Nightmare King and slay Kalvaxus.

Meanwhile YES, Oisin has absolutely been cornered by a dozen or so silver dragonborns (maybe with a scattering of other colors) to interrogate and threaten him, which would be a lot more effective if they weren't speaking a mix of a Fallinel dialect of draconic that Oisin can only understand every other word of and a variety of dialects of Elvish (which Oisin can barely speak) while Oisin's Solesian dialect of Common is difficult and confusing for the other dragonborns. They eventually figure out a system of communication though and Oisin happily hangs out with them (and away from Adaine's more intimidating family members) until he sees Adaine holding one of her baby cousins, a tiny silver hatchling snoozing in her arms, and he needs to be next to her IMMEDIATELY.

[bnhaficsforthesoul]

BNHA College AU - Midoriya Izuku

Major: Biology

Minor: Forensic Science

Sports: Track

Clubs: Various fan clubs

Ever since izuku was little, he always had an interest in helping people. He’s overly caring and too nice for his own good, and on top of that the biggest overachiever on the planet

Which is why he wants to become a doctor. He hasn’t picked a specific department to go into, because he finds everything so interesting

He did also consider going into forensic studies as a whole career, always thinking solving crimes and stopping bad guys was super cool as a kid, and he knows there are ways he can kind of mix both interests, but for now hes just aiming for his degree

He does also hope to maybe be able to teach at medical schools later in life, once he’s fully experienced so that he can pass on all this experience to the next generation

Growing up he was always weak and small, and so towards the end of high school he decided he wanted to change himself a bit and worked out like crazy, going from scrawny as hell to strong and buff.

He’s always going to the gym in his free time, and he thought it would be a good idea to join a sport that way he can have some motivation to stay fit, so he picked track since he’s pretty agile

Any time a new fan club gets made for something he happens to be interested in, he’s always willing to join it, even if theres only like 3 members. He might not be the most active member, but he loves them.

Izuku is kind of known across campus now, hes so friendly that people cant help but like him. He’s also insanely helpful, and takes god tier notes, so a lot of people rely on him for help with school work

So, he has a busy schedule constantly. He prioritizes his friends over random people always, but with his heavy study based school paths, with sports, and working out, he rarely has free time

You had had a few classes with him here and there, and talked to him once or twice. You knew he was super sweet (and very cute), but you never really expected to even become friends with the dude

Which is why you were almost terrified when he ran into the room you were using for your new club (that you literally started like 2 days ago). You were more so looking for something to put on resumes and stuff, how you ‘managed a successful club in college’ or whatever, so you decided to make a fun little fan club for your favorite anime

Sadly, people weren’t exactly rushing to it (you knew it might take a while, but you knew people would come eventually at least to check it out). Which is why izuku running in so excitedly scared you

“Oh hey! y/n right? We had anatomy together last semester!”

You nodded, kind of surprised he remembered your name, and you asked why he was there.

“I love this anime, and I havent seen any other clubs for it here so i thought i would check it out.Is it just you?”

“Yeah, I just officially started this club the other day. No ones come yet except you.”

“Ah, well don’t worry, I’m sure people will come soon. It usually takes a week or two.”

The two of you started talking more, both about the anime you mutually enjoyed as well as him giving you advice for how to make people flock to your club.

He actually stayed for the entire time you were allotted to use this room, and helped you clean up (there wasn’t much, but you still had some materials just in case people did show up)

Afterwards, you both said goodbye, and went off on your own

Following this, twice a week every week, he would meet you for your club. Eventually more people did show up as well, izuku’s advice was working well, but you were more so interested in talking with him. As it turns out, his sweetness isnt just an act, and hes actually really interesting and fun to talk to

He would eventually even come a bit early to help you set up. Youd usually bring snacks and something artsy to do, or any type of activity you could think of to relate to the anime, so you tried to get there a bit early

After club one day, about 3 months after it started, Izuku and you were cleaning up the room just talking about whatever before he changed the topic

“Did you want to go get food after this? Like real food? I haven’t eaten all day other than what you brought.”

You were a little surprised, you had never hung out outside of club really, but you were definitely happy to do so so you agreed

The two of you walked to a near by restaurant, which also surprised you because you thought he meant fast food, and went inside. He told you to get whatever you wanted, that itd be on him, and you started to protest, “No, its okay! You don’t have to pay for me.”

He shook his head, “You have to buy snacks and supplies every week, youve probably spent way more than I will today, so I don’t mind.”

You definitely felt your face getting warm. You couldn’t really help it, he was so pretty, and probably the nicest man youve ever met. You had thought lately you might have the tiniest little crush on him, but now you were thinking it was an actual crush

It didn’t help when the waitress, a slightly older lady, finally came to take your order and went “Aw, you two are so cute! What’s the occasion?” It wasn’t a fancy restaurant by any means, but it was definitely nice enough to be date quality, and it seemed the lady assumed you two were a couple

And Izuku didn’t even care! All he did was smile and tell her that its a reward for all your hard work lately, to which she said he was ‘such a sweet boyfriend’, and then she asked for your orders

You told her what you wanted, and went quiet. He wasn’t saying anything either, and you wished you could reach into his brain and figure out what he was thinking. Was this just another act of kindness from him? Did he not get what she was saying? Did he just feel bad correcting her? It was too much to process right now, but luckily your food came pretty quick so you could hide your lack of talking through eating

The entire meal was pretty silent honestly, and it was killing you. Normally, you two could talk for hours about anything, but it was just so weird right now. You couldn’t even think of anything to say, and Izuku was staring weirdly at his food.

After he paid, and you walked back towards the dorms, you thanked him for all of his help with your club and for the meal, and he said not to worry about it, your little club was essentially his break time anyways.

There were a few too many moments of silence to be comfortable, so you awkwardly smiled, said “well, still, thanks again” before running off, not noticing Izuku’s lingering eyes on you as you disappeared into the building

In all honesty, izuku was just as flustered as you were. Hes worked hard over the years to not let all of his emotions show, but inside he was panicking the entire time.

He did enjoy your club a lot! It was probably one of the better fan clubs he’s joined, but he didn’t give it so much loyalty just because of that. He stayed because of you - how enthusiastically you talked about the things you like, or your career choice, or anything. How passionate and caring and considerate you are, not to mention beautiful. You’re genuinely perfect in his eyes

Originally, when he asked you if you wanted to eat, he was considering asking you on a date, but he chickened out and made it sound more casual instead

Which is why as he walked back into his dorm, his roommate, Iida, had to deal with all of the loud groaning and mumbling coming from Izuku’s mouth

Izuku had told Iida about his crush on you, and about how he wanted to ask you out today, so his first assumption was that you rejected him. But then Izuku went over and told him about how much of a coward he is, and Iida realized he never even asked you

“It’s alright, Izuku, you can always try again next time.”

Izu shook his head, overthinking, “No, they probably think I’m so weird now. I was so awkward. They were barely talking the entire time we were at the restaurant. Even if it wasn’t a date, it was still so awkward, Iida! I doubt they’d ever even consider dating me now.”

He was kind of losing it, so Iida patted his back in an attempt to comfort him.

“Just go explain yourself now then, before it’s been too long.”

Izuku considered it, and he was probably right. If he waited too long, he might lose all his nerve and never ask you out. And if you did think today was too weird, who knows if you’d even talk to him again.

He decided he’d do it, and so he thanked Iida and went back outside and towards your dorm building. He had your number because you put it on your welcome message for the club for anyone to text you if they had questions, but the two of you had never texted before. He was always too nervous to

Soon after, you got a message from an unknown number, reading “Hey, its Izuku. I’m sorry about earlier, I was wondering if we could talk? I’m outside your dorm if you can.”

You immediately felt anxious, but happy at a chance to make sense of what happened earlier. So you got dressed (you had changed into pajamas as soon as you got home) and went back out as quickly as you could, and immediately noticed him

He was anxiously messing with his fingers, but he smiled softly when he saw you

“Hey, thanks for coming out here. I promise I won’t take long, I just needed you here in person.”

You nodded slowly, slightly confused, but told him not to worry and you didnt mind it.

“So, uhm, I’ll just get straight to the point. Earlier, I was going to ask you on a date, but I chickened out and made it a more casual thing. Which is still fine! But that’s why I was so weird, I was kind of mad at myself and kind of embarrassed. The waitress didn’t really help any, but her thinking I was your boyfriend did make me happy… Anyways! Before I go on too long of a rant, I’m just trying to say I like you Y/n, and if youd let me, I’d really like to take you on an actual date.”

Your heart was melting, he looked so cute and shy as he asked you, and it made you happy knowing your feelings were reciprocated.

“Yes, of course I’d let you, Izuku. I like you too.”

He let out the biggest sigh of relief, barely mumbling out ‘oh thank god’, and his smile only got bigger when you hugged him.

For your real* first date, he took you to a nearby aquarium, it was really cute. He couldn’t help but send this really cute selfie he took of the both of you in front of a sea turtle to his mom and his friend group chat

Most of his friends were ecstatic for him, bakugou did make fun of him though for taking so long to ask you out (of course he knew about his crush too)

His mom immediately wanted to meet you, and you did after a few weeks of dating

It really didn’t take long for Izuku to tell you he loved you, like maybe a month later at most, you’re cleaning up the club room again and he just stops what hes doing and kisses you softly before saying he loves you, to which you reciprocate

He takes you with him to the gym all the time, even if youre not super into working out you can just hang out with him or go at your own pace. But its a great opportunity for tons of hot pictures/videos

Same with his track meets, youre always there cheering him on

You two study together a lot, especially if youre in the same class or even similar ones. Izuku always makes sure youre prepared for your tests even if it means he has to learn the material with you

Izuku is genuinely probably one of the best boyfriends on the planet, you are his biggest motivation and he will do anything to make sure that you are happy

[welp-back-on-my-bs]

Ikesen Morgan Relationships:

Oda:

Mai: "Honestly, I think she is amazing! She is doing so well with being here in the past. I may not have been there, but in the 'sibling meetings', it was brought up. She is also very talented, and I try to help her sometimes if I gave the time"

Nobunaga: "he is on top of the food chain. We have a weekly game night where we play a differnt game each night. It's a lot of fun and it wasn't what I was expecting when he called me to his room. He did mention the little uh... thing from town... heh... we shared some candy for that!"

Hideyoshi: "he honestly is very overprotective. I mean- come on. But I don't exactly blame him for that because of how we met... he is the first person i go to if I can't sleep at night either. He manages to help me relax easily, so it's nice honestly-"

Mitsuhide: "dad number 2. He helped me with survival because and I quote,'You have the survival instincts of a Pidgon.' I mean- I do. But now I'm able to have a better chance to live here on my own. Outside of the other stuff-"

Mitsunari: "Just one of the sweetest people in the Oda. He has treated me extremely well, and I've decided to help him with getting to sleep and eating. After all, how else is he going to keep going on with his passions and live on into a world of peace?"

Ieyasu: "... honestly- he is so indirect about things that get infuriating. Tell me how you ACTIALLY feel dude. But, I do have respect for him for his medicines, and he has taught me more efficient ways to make mine as well."

Masamune: "bitch thinks he can beat me and Moonlight. He has lost most of the races we have done. He is a skilled cook. I'll give him that, and I'll at least try what he makes."

Ramaru: "he often talks to me about feeling guilty. He doesn't share why, but he asks why I don't also feel guilty, too? Those discussions can be quite hard, honestly. But the other times we hang out are nice and peaceful. It's weird..."

Keji: havent met yet

Usui-Takada:

Kenshin: "he took me into his care first. I'll always respect him for that. When I asked him why, he told me that 'You looked lost and frightened. But you held your ground and made a bloody battleground into a peaceful graveyard, respecting each of the men. Someone like that should survive any battle that faces them.'"

Shingen: "Yuki warned me about how flirtatious he could be, so i often stayed away from him. But we ended up bonding over sweets and seeing each other on a more even ground than oh look a 'woman' time to flirt"

Sauske: "I feel lucky to have landed in the same spot ad him. He is sp smart and caring about those he considers friends. I'm glad to be ND glasses buds with him. He may have won out in our training- but that's ok. It just pushed me to work harder!"

Yukimura: "absolute best person to tease. Its so easy and fun too. Along with speaking with Ama and Sauske around him, he gets so lost, but he has picked up on some things. Which is even better!"

Yoshimoto: "People have said that he is a fierce warrior on the battlefield not to be trifled with. But I never met that version of him. The one I met actually taught me the language, and we bonded over the arts. I do wish some of his vessels would stop with the whole die for honor... but that is of this period... and it is horrible..."

Kantesugu: "I dont get along with him as well as I do Mitsunari, we inky met in passing and didn't really interact. When we did, he was direct and straight to the point which I appreciated"

Other:

Kicho: "I met up with him by accident one day. I didn't realize at the time that he was technically an enemy. But... what he told me and what we talked about... heh... couldn't help but relate. I'm glad he is able to be himself now. His true self. I also hope that I can help him whenever he needs me... he even offered to help me funnily enough-"

Motanari: "bitchass mother fucker"

Kennyo: "he is dragging others into his pit of dispair and grief. It's destroying everything around him. At least he knows it... he would definitely refuse me helping him if I were to ever offer. 'Oda rat' or something like that is probably what he would call me..."

Siblings/Mother

Amaryllis:( @silkkorchid ) "Ama is quite fun to be around, literally just- the non biological child of Mitsuhide and Hideyoshi. She helped me get out of my shell a bit and managed to get me out- so I really appreciate her"

Rubia ( @rubia8 ): "Sweet sis, getting dragged into Ama's chaos... we play with strays often that she hides in her room"

Hydrangeas ( @colourless-hydrangeas ): "singlehandedly brought peace via split custody? She is really quite well spoken, and I have a lot of respect for her hand in ending the bloodshed."

Kiyomi ( @just-a-little-silly ): "aparantly- lord Nobunaga has a sister- who has my dad's around her pinky finger. She was honestly what sealed me staying with the Oda. She helped me get a job as a stable hand. If I ever need peace and quiet, we normally just go somewhere together. She honestly treats me, so well..."

[crushedsweets]

What about some lulu headcannons since you seem to like her? :)

oh anon u are spoiling me.... heres a little sketch of her college life. let me begin . . tw for general creepypasta things, abuse, bullying, death, etc

ok. so a lot lulus og stuff is gross obviously (although a majority of the og creepypastas have gross origins/creators). as a kid, i was pretty attached to her, but looking back , its just. ugghhghgh. which is why i want to try giving her her own horror type story while still following some of the core things that made her her. BEGONE WITH MIDDLE/HIGH SCHOOL KILLERS...

lulu is 24 but described as 'physically 14' which bugs me esp bc theres so much emphasis on her body being like an adult. and frankly i am not crazy about yet another 'little kid bullied/abused then goes crazy/demonic' story so i scrapped the bullshit ‘is 24 but looks 14 but is drawn like she’s 24!’. So I decided to just to make make her whole zalgo poisoning occur later in life. since its now set in university, a handful of things changed. mayhaps she knows jack ?

she grew up as a rich girl being put through several private schools growing up. she wasnt the smartest, she wasnt the most social, and while i think that the og story did this really fucking poorly, she did deal with harassment cuz she developed early. ranged from people calling her a slut for the same clothes as a thinner girl, to getting dress coded for no good reason, to rumors, etc. so, she's being bullied by her peers, though its moreso a ton of gossip rather than stuff in her og. overall school sucked for her

finally she goes to university. shes away from all those people, away from her helicopter parents, away from dress codes and loneliness. she tries SO hard to keep up the perfect daughter persona in public bc she knows shes walking on thin ice(having been punished for things out of her control all her life), with a wardrobe full of pencil skirts and button ups, but then she finally meets this guy named josh. but that shit gets seriously exhausting. and as many kids in her position do, she wants to Rebel .. she starts going to parties and whatnot w her edgy ass roommate. random garage shows, raves, generally reckless behavior etc. its not her fully her thing but she's there and having fun.

idk his name in the og story but there was that guy that led her on just to further abuse her. i changed him up and made him some guy in a frat that she met at a rando party. he was so sweet to her the first time they met, they talked for a long time at the party, he was cool overall and she never ever craved attention like this before - she never even GOT attention like this before, coming from an all girls school, so she clung. but he wasnt actually gonna date her, so he said some bullshit excuse about 'you know how greek life is, my frat wont let me date u unless u join this specific sorority!! soz' and he chose the worst, most clique-y sorority that has the most insane hazing ritual for girls that arent sought after. he thought there was no way she'd give it a shot and he could get her off his back. a dick move, but he didnt think she'd do it.

but, she does - and the hazing is fucking shit. the girls in the sorority are worse than the girls in highschool (and maybe in cliché fashion, one of her highschool bullies ended up in the sorority before her?). it starts off as things like 'oh you gotta buy your sorority sisters coffee for a week' to 'oh you have to be drunk/high throughout all your classes for a week' to completely deranged shit like branding yourself or slashing a professors tires. things nobody in their right mind would do, typically.

i havent decided exactly how exactly lulu hits the point where they think she's dead, but a group of sorority girls think she is. they panic, and in their panic cannot feel her pulse or hear breathing. she's completely unconscious, cold, and frankly on the way to death - so they take her to slenders forest and get to work

they bury her in a shallow grave, unaware of all the different demons residing in the forest watching one of the most gruesome displays of humanity. if youve watched girl from nowhere, theres a scene where nano gets buried alive by a group of her classmates then she wakes up . . imagine that.

im thinking, similar to the operator, zalgo can infect people as well . . maybe people on their death beds ? anyway, lulu's infected. long after the girls run off, lulu manages to dig herself out of the grave. shes wheezing, coughing, sobbing, its dark and cold and foggy, and she now has to come face to face with zalgo making some weird 'i saved you, i want something in return.' and there goes her eyes !!! rip lulu. maybe zalgo did it cuz hes a dick, maybe he actually needs human parts to seal the deal.

theres some more interaction but overall lulu doesnt have a ton of demon powers or anything. new wounds heal quickly, but her past ones will never will. she can be eerily quiet, popping in and out with fog, doesn't need food/water/sleep. . she does have kinda crazy strength(no agility or speed), but she's so mentally weak it does nothing for her

for a while she does just wander the forest in complete and utter mourning, until one of the proxies finds her and is like Oh Fuck that's not human. toby describes her as a zombie. so she's another job for them to handle

eventually they settle her in the hospital with ann.. the hospital is likely an area that experiences more fog, being closer to the lake perhaps, so it just makes sense to put her in an area she can see. it took a while for lulu to calm down bc she now has a pretty big fear around women , and the proxies have to CONSTANTLY come around and check in for a while, cuz she feels safer with them. maybe they tried putting her with jack but jack said absolutely the fuck not. bc lulus legitmately scary. she's constantly croaking, crying, wheezing, dripping blood everywhere she goes, etc.

she eventually gets along with ann, who thinks lulus cute and fun to chat with. i made a joke about them doing tiktok dances together but like. i could see it. maybe ann reminds lulu of her roommate, the only girl whos been completely nice to her ? dunno. (despite the roomie being the reason lulu got into the partying and stuff)

mmmmmm yeah. that is basically the entire rewrite .

i likely wont include her too much in the story just because the rewrite is so drastic+shes not all too popular but i used to feel very fondly towards her when i was 10 and i do think her character cconcept is super cool (the fog, the eye stuff, zalgo poisoning etc). theres just hella weird stuff but its a creepypasta from 2013 idk what we expect

[astersoul]

Kim Dokja.

If anyone could've saved you, who would it be?

Would you have allowed it then, if you knew there'd be someone willing enough?

or would you still have chosen the same path only to save that person as well?

Would it have been possible for the end to change if Yoo Joonghyuk knew the answer?

Would it have been possible for him to reach towards the deepest parts of this man's heart if only he had come to understand him better?

Kim Dokja.

You have stubbornly, so unnecessarily, pinned all our hopes unto yourself - engraved them into your very bones as if it was the only way. As if this had always been your fate.

If you could decide your fate, won't it only be right if i decide my own to be the one that could've changed yours?

Kim Dokja.

You have turned your one and only savior into nothing more than a stranger. As if I didn't really matter to you. As if I couldn't have done this for you.

Yoo Joonghyuk could only tighten his grip unto the other man's collar. He was starting to fade, and this bastard still managed a faint genuine smile while declaring how this story had been a great one.

What was so great in a story that would only end with you nowhere to be seen? Your presence no longer to be felt, your laughter no longer to be heard? Your eyes no longer to behold your heart's indescribable amount of love?

To where exactly would this love of yours go, Kim Dokja? Was this sacrifice supposed to reflect everything you've held in your now weakening pulse? To whom was this even supposed to fall unto, you fool?

In this damned world, there would be no other Kim Dokja, and he was now slipping from Yoo Joonghyuk's grasp.

You cannot save those who can't be saved.

Yoo Joonghyuk felt sick.

Was there really no other choice?

It should've been me.

It should’ve been me.

It would’ve been me, Kim Dokja.

Yoo Joonghyuk felt his throat burning, rage scratching through the walls of his windpipe but the only words he could only blurt out were-

"No, No, No. Kim Dokja, No- Don't leave m-"

There was a heavy lump in his throat as he watched Kim Dokja's eyes, ones that always seemed to hold the stars, now dim into a blackened sky.

"Let's meet again, Yoo Joonghyuk."

Yoo Joonghyuk's palm could only clutch at the ashes of the one he could not call his own.

The only one he could not save.

- this song reminded me of joongdok, so i wanted to write something in hopes i could get over that certain chapter....

tho this may not necessarily point to 3rd turn yjh alone, this is also to a yjh who would've been desperate enough to show this vulnerability in him as he grasps at the remaining seconds he had with kdj

(i havent reached this part in the novel yet so this is purely an hc TT)

[fictionsbaby]

My Love <3

Seth clearwater x reader

Summary: when y/n cant sleep one night, she texts her boyfriend to meet her at their favorite spot, when he brings her back home, they finally have their first kiss.

Warnings: kissing, fem reader, allusions to making out, and two teenagers being in love

Word count: 479

having a good night's rest seemed to be just out of y/n’s reach. she tossed and turned, but sleep was always out of reach, probably also due to the fact that she missed her beloved boyfriend. so she decided to message him;

(y/n): hey

r u up?

(seth<3): yea

why?

(y/n): meet me at the park

(seth): ok??

y/n made her way to the park quickly, and decided to wait for seth on the swing set, reminicing on all the childhood memories they shared on that very same swing set. the sunny summer days, seeing who could swing the highest, chasing each other around the park, climbing up the slides. y/n was stuck in a day dream- or was it just a regular dream?- when seth came up behind her,scaring the poor girl.

“hey there lovely,” seth smiled, hugging y/n.

“hi baby,” y/n hugged him back. “I missed you,” she said in a sad tone, hugging him a bit tighter.

he chuckled lightly, “it's not like you didn't see me 4 hours ago!”

“exactly! that's forever ago!” she said, pulling away slightly.

he laughed again, “whatever baby.”

seth grabbed her hand and they began walking along the dark path, basking in each others presence. she laid her head on his muscular shoulder, basking in his warmth. the giggles that she emitted was music to his ears. they continued to walk, until seth could see her eyes start drooping.

“you tired baby?” he asked.

a yawn was her only response.

“I'll take that as a yes,” he chuckled to himself, “lets take you home baby.”

“noooooooo,” she said in mock despair, “i dont want you to leave!” she hugged his arm tight.

“but you need your beauty rest,” he squeezed her cheek after coming to a stop in the middle of the path. “so lets go.”

“uhhhhgggg fineeeeeeeeee,” she said reluctantly.

they walked back to her home, acting like the two kids in love that they are. they finally reached her house, and y/n hugged him tightly, not wanting to let him go.

“y/n,” he said softly.

“seth,” she said just as softly.

“you know how we havent kissed yet?” he asked her. she nodded, and he responded, “what if we changed that?”

she gasped slightly, and nodded her head once again. she stood up onto her tip toes, and slottered her lips onto his. the sparks that flew between them were magical. he gripped her waist a bit tighter, and she hugged his neck a bit tighter. they kissed for what felt like forever. when they finally parted, their heavy breaths mingled with one another.

“did we just have our first kiss?” she asked in shock.

“I think so,” he replied.

“would you like to…come to my room?” she asked in a sultry voice.

he smirks slightly, “definitely.”

[ghoulangerlee]

Ooh what about one of the ladies (your pick) getting a piercing (nip? Cartilage? whatever)?

here's a silly think i've been thinking about where Sunshine gets her nipple pierced bc I saw this ask the other night and its lived in my brain for the last two days but i havent been able to write it haha

Cu/Cir/Sunshine <3

--

Sunshine's not sure how long she's on the surface before she decides to take the plunge; it wasn't as if she was scared of getting a piercing, it was all relative.

Ghouls didn't really feel pain in the same way humans did, and the healing process wasn't as long and drawn out when it came to piercings though of course there could be complications, there could be rejections (this is something that Dew had warned her about, wryly pointing out his lack of second nipple piercing, "It just...pushed its way out of my body," he'd said, snorting softly. "Didn't think it was worth it to try and get it redone.")

She was just, well, hesitant wasn't the right word for it, but she did find herself hesitating; it all boiled down to her tenuous hold on her glamour and the fact she'd need to be human to have it done.

It wasn't that she couldn't keep her glamour up, but her nerves had a tendency to do things to her magic, make her react in ways she couldn't anticipate.

The last thing she needed was to have to explain to Papa that she'd shown her true face to an unsuspecting human while said human had a needle in her nipple.

(Not that he'd be angry and she wouldn't be in trouble, but it was the principle of things.)

"Do we need to come and hold your hand?" Cumulus asks, she's sitting behind Sunshine, braiding her hair with nimble fingers; her hair finally long enough to do more than just toss into a low ponytail. "Would that help?"

Cirrus brings out three glasses and a bottle of wine, the good stuff that's aged in the basement that Sunshine's only had the pleasure of drinking once before. "We could pump magic into you while we do it, help you keep your glamour up if you need it. Might help calm you down, feel less...anxious?"

Cirrus's words are careful, like she's not exactly sure that anxious is the right word to describe how Sunshine sometimes gets.

"I, well," Sunshine begins, taking the glass from Cirrus and watching her places the other two down on the table, pouring a healthy amount in them before filling Sunshine's glass, "Well, I don't want to drag you guys away from your duties," she's not normally this hesitant about things, but the tenuous thing that the three of them have is new and Sunshine feels like a fish out of water sometimes when she remembers just how long Cirrus and Cumulus have been together.

Cumulus snorts behind her, "We're not really that busy," she says, her voice kind, a bit fond, "We've already finalized our part on the album for the vocals and instruments. We're just waiting on Copia to call a meeting to go over it as a whole, which if you're not there because you're taking a personal day, then there won't be a meeting."

Sunshine presses her lips together, knowing that she can't argue with Cumulus's logic, "Okay, so maybe I'm being a little silly," she says in agreement.

Cirrus sinks down on the floor beside her and leans over, pressing a warm kiss to her cheek, "Silly girl," she murmurs, entirely too fond, "Let us hold your hand so you can get your piercing."

A flush takes over Sunshine's cheeks, she feels Cumulus stop braiding her hair long enough to lean over and press a kiss to the top of her head and Cirrus settles into her side, "Yeah, okay," she says, feeling warm and happy and loved. "But just one for now, don't know if I could sit through both right now."

[bonefall]

What are some jobs in each of the clans? Like theres the kitchen crew, patrolling, and hunting, but is there any jobs you havent mentioned? Do they get assigned at the start of a day or does each cat get to choose?

Also how do you address deputy jobs and leader jobs? Sometimes in the books it feels like the leader only does ceremonies while the deputy is the one actually organizing and giving jobs out, im assuming the leader does more work now?

The Three main jobs every cat could be assigned to that day are Kitchen, Patrol, and Hunting. Other jobs are assigned on more of a case-by-case basis; and those are usually decided by a Senior Warrior appointed as "Head of X Operations" who approaches the Deputy to tell them what they need.

(And some of this ties into a Council System that I feel makes a LOT of sense as an addition, but I keep waffling on if it's too big of a change or not.)

Some other jobs that need to be done around camp, but not daily;

Building: Dens, camp walls, maintenance of big structures such as ovens.

Cleaning: Getting rid of old bedding, freshening the cedar chips, helping get out any bad knots or parasite build-up that the daily Sharing of Tongues didn't fix.

Crafting: Making nets, baskets, new pots, Poppyfrost's Garden Patrol also counts under this category. Misc construction of things. This is also just done in free time for fun but sometimes they NEED more of a given object.

The Deputy

Is the head of 'tedious' operations. Usually they're supposed to act in-tandem with their Leader, they would share most of the meetings and the Leader would give their input. In practice though it depends a lot on the leader in question, which I'll get to.

They're just supposed to be overseeing daily operations, not making big choices. When will we start preparing for Leafbare? That's a leader's call. Is this den beyond repair and in need of full replacement? Leader's call. Negotiations with another Clan? Time to get the leader.

The Leader

Those 9 lives aren't given just so the leader can lay around. They're supposed to be so the leader can have a long, stable rule, and not be killed on some random border patrol.

And border patrols are what they do! And hunting duty! And kitchen work! Deputies are doing the tedious brainwork exactly so that the leader can be involved in the daily lives of their Clanmates, and not spend so much time organizing.

So that means I plan for a good leader to be involved with their Clan a lot like early TPB Bluestar; not like modern leaders who have a problem of practically spending all day in their dens.