#ignore how some are in uniforms and some casual…

[saekin]

Persona 5 drawing I’m putting on something cO-o

[7nuh]

WAS IT 'CASUAL' WHEN...? — TWST 1ST YEARS

Headcanons on the 'casual' things you do with him that made him wish that there was something more between you.

CW 𓂃 sfw, gn!reader, reader is implied to fit in Deuce's clothes in his part, pining

CHARAS 𓂃 Ace Trappola, Deuce Spade, Jack Howl, Epel Felmier, and Sebek Zigvolt

AN 𓂃 mostly* edited now 😎👍

ACE TRAPPOLA — you slept in the same bed?

Ramshackle isn't exactly known for having the best facilities or furniture, and that is a fact Ace has to make peace with whenever he gets kicked out by Riddle. It's always a little too chilly at night and the floors still creak beneath his feet. Even with a makeover, half of the beds are broken and that stiff couch downstairs is your next best bet at getting some semblance of sleep.

You insisted you really didn't mind sharing a bed at all and Ace took you up on your offer. In his words, "if you say so then!" Just create an invisible partition down the middle and the two of you should be fine. Sure, yeah, that'll be infinitely more comfortable than the couch, and Ace absolutely agrees. He repeats the thought to himself over and over again— this is supposedly the better alternative, isn't it?

Yeah, totally. He tries to convince himself that it's really not a big deal for him to be inches away from you at night and feel your warmth spreading through the sheets. God, you'd think he's a weirdo if you woke up and caught him staring right now, but he could always twist it into a dumb joke about your sleeping face looking like an ogre. Consequently, he would have to watch your face twist in annoyance and pretend he wasn't watching every rise and fall of your chest. He would rather lose his magic entirely than admit the ugly truth and make himself vulnerable to you.

Ace does realize he's being embarrassingly sappy and romantic, and he's disgusted at himself for these thoughts, but he can't help it. He can't change the fact your lips look so soft and your eyelashes are so pretty. This is freaking him out so much more than it should. Does this really mean nothing to you? Do really only see him as a friend? Fine, then the two of you are just friends sharing a bed then!

It's really nothing! Ace was the one who joked about it months ago, after all. But things (and his feelings) have changed and he cannot ignore that. Back then it wouldn't have been such a big deal, but now it is and he cannot calm his heart down no matter how hard he tries.

You're right there. It's not the first time he had to share a bed with someone but it's different now because it's you. He did the math and the two of you are only 10 inches apart. Ace almost reaches for you in his weakest moment until he remembers that the two of you are supposedly just two friends sharing a bed. You're doing him a favor by sheltering him for the night, that's all.

Ace retracts his hand right away at the very last second. He might have as well taken the goddamn couch (lest either of you wake up in each other's arms).

DEUCE SPADE — he lent his clothes?

You came here with next to nothing. You had exactly one change of clothes and pocket lint for change, so Deuce, being the righteous and honorable student that he is, decided to lend you some of his clothes for the meantime. It's what a good friend would do! It's a temporary arrangement that would last only until Crowley spares enough change for you to buy another set of uniforms.

But this arrangement drags on for so long even when you have a functional closet and multiple sets of better-fitting clothes. Deuce never really noticed until recently that a third of your (albeit very limited) wardrobe actually belongs to him. But whenever you tug on his sleeves for his latest sweater, he doesn't have the heart to tell you no.

When he went home during break, his mom even noticed that certain sweaters and shirts had gone missing. "I left them at the college," he tells her as to not worry her. It's technically the truth— it's back with you in the college (and you're probably wearing them right now; the mental image is enough to fluster him all of the sudden when it never did before). He has to get them back eventually since those clothes are his. He's sure you wouldn't mind? Right?

Simply asking for them back is the difficult part for Deuce. You're there in front of him wearing one of his older shirts that fit snugly around your figure and he's at a loss for words. It's worn down and outright hideous as hell but the very first thought that comes to mind is that you look good in it.

Ah, yeah. You walk around campus on non-school days wearing his clothes 1/3rd of the time and nobody else knows that those jackets and shirts and sweaters and button-ups are all his. You make even the ugliest ones look good, or maybe it's because you're the wearer and you always looked good to him? Do his eyes need to be checked...? Deuce is tortured by these thoughts while merrily go about your day. You're laughing at something stupid that Grim said and he can't hear anything else. There's a fight in the courtyard but he can't see anything else. There's a midterm tomorrow but he can't think of anything else. You're too distracting.

When you finally do remember to return a shirt or two, Deuce tells you there's really no need to return them. He insists that they're better off with you, but you laugh and remind him that you're no longer the same pathetic charity case you were at the start of the year.

The truth is, your scent still lingers on recently returned shirts. It's the closest he'll get to being skin-to-skin with you, and Deuce is supposed to ignore that but he cannot. Or maybe he's the only one making this weird for the two of you because it doesn't seem to bother you in the slightest (and he's bothered by that).

But when Deuce looks at the recently returned shirts in his hands, he hopes he has a chance. He hopes you think of him as much as he thinks of you. He hopes the odds of him not actually liking you after all make your guts churn and set butterflies in your chest at the same time. He hopes he isn't the only one yearning for used shirts, lingering scents, and ghost touches. But at the same time, you've only ever asked these kinds of favors from him... Deuce doesn't want to assume anything, but a blush creeps upon his cheeks all the same and he continues to hope for more.

JACK HOWL — you played with his ears and tail?

Beastmen weren't a thing back in your world, so seeing them regularly made you morbidly curious about their animalistic features. Jack was easily the best candidate to satisfy your intrusive thoughts because just who else could you ask about this? Leona wasn't exactly an option and Ruggie might rope you into some scheme of his. And Jack owed you a favor, after all, so this is what you decided to ask of him.

Jack's ears twitched— did he hear you correctly? His face scrunches up in confusion because you barely knew each other for you to be asking something like this. How could you ask something so personal from him? It's in your innocently eager expression that he realizes what's going on... you just didn't know. Fine, it should mean nothing to you and thus he agrees to let you pet his tail and ears for five seconds. Maximum.

It's supposed to be a one time thing but he finds him involuntarily offering up his tail whenever you look him like that. He's not even sure how it got to this point. After all, there are romantic connotations of having your tail petted by someone else and... nevermind. Ruggie and Leona have started simultaneously teasing him over it the very moment they caught wind of this peculiar arrangement. It doesn't help that Jack's tail is particularly sensitive and reactive, but he keeps a straight face no matter how much it embarrasses him.

Jack doesn't understand why you're so fascinated by his tail and ears because there are so many others just like him. However, he supposes it's not an entirely terrible feeling, though, to have your fingers absentmindedly rake across his tail and hair as the two of you study. It's relaxing, even, but he won't tell you that. Jack will never tell you that it gives him goosebumps all over and makes him shiver whenever you play with his tail. Or that he's begun wondering what it would be like to have your hands elsewhere, or for him to touch you in similar ways in return.

He doesn't understand why he craves your company but doesn't question it either. All he knows is that your hands are so soft and gentle and that he likes the way the corner of your eyes crinkle when you smile in satisfaction. And when you hum a soft tune as the gap between the two of you closes, he wonders if he's the only one feeling this tension.

"Again?" Jack huffs. The pretext of this being a silly favor has been long forgotten. He should probably tell you soon that you shouldn't be doing this, but you just look so pleased with yourself when the two of settle down in a lesser-known corner of the library. The routine persists, the cycle continues. Hours later, the both of you have gone through multiple bags of chips, two movies on his laptop, and his tail is now comfortably curled around your abdomen as you read a book and he tends to his beloved cactus.

Again? Jack silently asks himself whenever he sees your face in a crowd. Could the two of you spend hours in a comfortable silence while the unsaid implications haunt him? He's started to ask himself— were you just playing dumb at this point or just plain stupid? Or what if you had known all along and the two of you were just dancing around it?

EPEL FELMIER — you kissed him?

Epel eventually learns to use the way others perceive him to his advantage; there's strength in appearing to be weak and striking when the iron is hot. Still, he couldn't help but wish to be seen for his talents and strength instead of his beauty at the first glance. The first assumption everyone makes of him, for god's sake, is that he's a fragile little thing from a rich family, and, quite frankly, he's sick of it.

So he's secretly delighted when none of his charms worked on you and you yank him by the ear for even attempting. A few curse words and rough shoves later, both of you are on the floor, grappling and wrestling against each other. The two of you are laughing so hard and swearing so loudly that you'll probably wake up the rest of Pomefiore at this rate, but neither of you care. It's just the two of you right now grasping at each other like your life depended on it.

It's a nice change of pace to be openly exchanging insults instead of restraining himself. He enjoys the comfortable rhythm the two of you share— from all the brawls and the bantering and the hugs and to the kisses on the cheek. Yes, kisses. They started as simple thank you's after a few favors here and there, and just one of them is enough to make a mess out of Epel for weeks. Better yet, you only seem to be showering him with more and more of your attention and he relishes in it.

Ah, things are finally working out for him! He found someone he could confide in and he's sure that there's a spark between the two of you. By the end of the year, he might have someone to bring home and brag about to his relatives—

All the momentum halts when he sees you across the hall granting the rest of your friends the same levels of affection. From all the brawls to the bantering to the hugs and the kisses, none of those were ever solely his to take delight upon. It doesn't matter that he opened up to you about all his fears and insecurities because he was never special. You were just the kind of person who got along and felt comfortable with everyone around you, but Epel hates that he has no one to blame but himself. He willingly walked your warmth but it was never his to take.

It finally dawns upon him that you have never seen him in a romantic light and that was why you were so comfortable around him. In retrospect, the bond you two shared was more sibling-like than anything— and believe him when he says he's incredibly grateful that the two of you were that close —but it doesn't make it hurt any less to know that your affections never carried any romantic intentions after he had pinned for you for so long.

Even when he takes a step back, you're cruel in a roundabout way by continuing to be so kind and loving towards him. How was Epel supposed to make sense of your relationship after realizing he misunderstood you...?

And he also hates to admit this, but his self-confidence takes a huge blow from this. Epel genuinely thought he could be loved for who he was based on the time you spent together. It gnaws at him and eats him alive to finally know the truth, and sometimes he wishes he never found out at all.

SEBEK ZIGVOLT — you wrote him love letters?

So, Sebek asked (demanded) to be penpals...

It's all because Lilia told him it would be a good exercise of diplomacy, he insisted. As the young master's bodyguard, he will have to be as courteous as possible even in unpleasant company. He also rationalized, admittedly partly because of you, that forging bonds with magicless humans may be a worthwhile endeavor after all! It's all rather suspicious (and you suspect his real intentions have something to do with your friendship with Malleus), but Sebek has never been one to lie about his intentions. If anything, the popular opinion was that he's a little too honest and should learn a thing or two about holding back.

There's something very unconventional in sending handwritten letters in this day and age of modern technology, but also something very romantic and fantastical— much like the many fictional knights he had read about. It helps a lot that he's not directly confronted by the fact you are very much a magicless human who shouldn't be in NRC whenever he spills out his heart's contents unto multiple pages. It was a way for him to release his frustrations, celebrate his achievements, and talk about the dull, little things thats happened in his day-to-day life to someone who listened.

And listen you did. Turns out, when you're not subjected to his 1000 decibel shouting, Sebek is a rather earnest guy who worked hard and acknowledged others who also worked equally as hard no matter their disposition. To say the least, you understand why Lilia found it so entertaining to tease him.

It completely flies over his head that you had been flirting with him for months through these letters. Your everyday interactions with each other had been completely normal, so how was he supposed to notice?! It takes multiple rereads and many late-night discussions with the other Diasomnia dormers to decode and understand all the double entendres and hidden 'i love you's' in each and every letter. It was so needlessly difficult, but Lilia laughs in his face and pats him at the back for a job well-done.

"There's no way," he thinks to himself late at night and finds himself doubting Lilia's claims for once. But when Sebek steals a glance in your direction and you smile back in return, he's never felt weaker in his knees. You're absolutely and undeniably magic-less... but somehow you had casted a spell that made his chest tighten and shut him up. He hadn't even realized how much time he was spending with you and thinking about you when he wasn't.

Except nothing has changed in-person. You're acting like you hadn't meticulously hidden your affections for him in those letters, and he was starting to seriously doubt all of it. Yeah, were you event smart enough to pull off all that? As some magic-less human?

Actually... Sebek realizes that you are capable of outsmarting him after getting to know you much better through those letters. He's never been one to deny where credit it was due. Now, Sebek's just deeply ashamed that he failed to accurately assess your character before making judgements based on superficial traits. He knows better than anyone that you're witty, charming, brave, kind, beautiful, ambitious—

Oh no.

Oh no.

Sebek simply explodes on the spot once he realizes that he had been oblivious to his own feelings for you too. He had thoroughly examined every aspect of this conundrum except from within. Quite embarrassing from an esteemed knight of the prince of nocturnal fae to be this slow, really.

[ponderingmoonlight]

JJK men pretending to date you to get rid of unwanted attention

Pairings: Geto x fem!reader; Megumi x fem!reader; Choso x fem!reader; Gojo x fem!reader

Word Count; 3,9k (Gojo's part is loooong)

Warnings: got carried away by Gojo again lol, no real warnings except creepy guys and fluff over fluff, forgive me Noritoshi lovers, I know I did our man dirty in Megumi's part

Geto Suguru

It’s a quiet afternoon in the city. You and Geto have been meeting at this cozy café once a week for months, a little ritual that started after one too many of countless exhausting missions. The place is familiar and comfortable, usually a perfect escape from the noise of jujutsu sorcery. But today, things are a little off.

You notice it immediately when you enter, the way the barista’s eyes follow you. He’s new, someone you’ve never seen here before, and while it’s normal for people to glance over at new faces, this guy’s gaze lingers. It’s unsettling, but you ignore it, not wanting to overthink things. Maybe it’s just the way your hair falls today or the fact that you’re still wearing your uniform since you’ve just returned from another mission.

You sit down across from Geto, who’s already sipping his tea and scrolling through his phone while lounging with his manspread on point.

As you allow yourself a sip of your favorite drink too, you try to relax. This has to be your imagination running wild, you aren’t even that pretty, right?

But every time you look up, the barista is staring at you, his eyes heavy with intent. Eventually, he makes his way over, holding a plate of complimentary cookies. Fuck, what are you supposed to do?

“These are for you,” he purrs, offering you a smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes.

“On the house.”

You blink, taken aback. The stinging smell of way too much masculine perfume almost makes your guts turn and forces you to hold your breathe. You can tell by one look in his eyes what his intentions are – and they definitely aren’t sincerely.

“Oh, um, thanks,” you murmur, unsure of how to refuse without making things awkward.

The guy lingers, his attention focused solely on you. When he takes another step towards you, the alarm in your head starts going wild. What the hell does this creep want?

“You come here often, don’t you? I’ve noticed you a few times.”

Geto looks up from his phone, his eyes narrowing slightly as he notices the barista’s attention. He says nothing at first, but there’s a subtle tension in the air that wasn’t there before. There’s no doubt in the fact that you’re feeling uncomfortable.

“Yeah, we come here a lot,” Geto interferes smoothly, his tone polite but firm.

“Together.”

The barista’s eyes flick to Geto for the first time, a shadow of irritation crossing his face. He clearly hadn’t noticed him before.

“Oh,” the guy mutters, his smile faltering.

“Are you two…?”

Geto leans forward in his chair, casually placing his warm hand on your thigh while giving you that smile that almost makes you choke. The move is subtle but possessive, his body language making it clear what he’s implying. And your body? Oh, you’re all over the place, your face already hot from the minimal touch of his palm.

“Yeah, we are” he replies simply, giving the barista a look that’s both confident and warning.

The guy frowns, obviously not pleased with the answer, but he doesn’t push it – much to your relief.

“Well, enjoy your cookies,” he gabbles before turning on his heel and heading back behind the counter.

You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding, your body finally relaxing as the barista moves away.

“That was weird,” you comment, glancing at Geto with a small, grateful smile.

Geto shrugs, his usual calm smile returning.

“Some people don’t know how to take a hint.”

You chuckle, feeling the warmth of his hand still resting against your thigh.

“Thanks for stepping in. I didn’t know how to handle that without being rude.”

“It’s no problem,” Geto replies, his fingers brushing lightly against your covered skin while he leans in slightly.

“Besides, pretending to be your boyfriend has its perks.”

Your cheeks flush even deeper at his words, but you laugh it off, knowing he’s just teasing…

Does he?

There’s something about the way his eyes linger on you for a moment longer than usual, the faint smirk on his lips that makes your heart skip a beat.

“Come on,” Geto finally declares, standing up and offering you his hand.

 “Let’s get out of here before that guy decides to bring us another free snack.”

You take his hand with a smile, letting him lead you out of the café, the tension from before completely forgotten.

Are you actually going insane or was there a…spark?

Megumi Fushiguro

It’s a typical day at the jujutsu high training grounds. You and Megumi have been sparring for a while, your breaths coming in short gasps as you try to keep up with him. He’s quick, precise, and annoyingly good at reading your movements, but you’re giving it your all.

During a quick break, you head to the sidelines to grab some water. As you wipe the sweat from your brow, you notice one of the students from Kyoto High approaching. You’ve seen him around before, but you’ve never spoken much beyond the occasional greeting. After all, you’ll wring each other’s next in a few hours, there’s no need for any formalities. Was his name Noritoshi Kamo?  Before you’re even able to finish your sentence, he stands right in front of you…

And talks?  

“Hey, that was some impressive stuff out there,” he begins, leaning against the fence next to you.

His smile is strangely friendly enough, but there’s a glint in his eye that makes you uneasy.

“Sorry, are you talking to me?” you reply, keeping your tone neutral as you take another sip of water.

The guy doesn’t take the hint.

“You know, if you ever want some private training, I’d be happy to help,” he offers, stepping a little closer.

“I could teach you a few tricks.”

You stiffen slightly, your eyes flicking to where Megumi is standing a few meters away, watching the interaction with narrowed eyes. Before you can respond, the guy takes another step toward you, his hand reaching out as if he’s about to touch your arm.

But before he can, Megumi steps forward, his expression hard.

“She’s not interested,” he says flatly, his voice cutting through the air like a blade.

The guy blinks, taken aback by the sudden interruption. “Oh, I didn’t realize you two were-”

“We are,” Megumi interrupts firmly, moving to stand between you and the guy.

His presence is protective but not overbearing, a silent wall that the other student quickly decides not to challenge. All you can do is to stare back and forth between the two. That guy, who never said anything to you and now suddenly tries to flirt and Megumi, who stands in front of you like a wall in order to protect you from unwanted attention? You have to be dreaming.

“Right… well, I’ll see you around, I guess,” the guy mutters awkwardly before turning and walking away.

Once he’s gone, you let out a small sigh of relief, glancing up at Megumi with a grateful smile, even though you can’t shake off those violent butterflies roaming around your stomach.

“Thanks for that. He was pretty straight forward and I was too bamboozled to act.”

Megumi shrugs, his usual stoic expression back in place.

 “He was bothering you.”

You smile, appreciating the way he always looks out for you, even if he tries to downplay it.

“Still, you didn’t have to step in like that.”

Megumi glances at you, his cheeks flushing just slightly before he looks away.

“It wasn’t a big deal,” he mumbles.

“Besides, I didn’t want him to distract you from training.”

You laugh softly, shaking your head at his stubbornness. While this is the first time Megumi stood up for you in this strange way, you can’t help but fall over and over for that boy who hides his feelings like a treasure. Is there a chance that he might like you as well?

“Well, I’m glad you did.”

He doesn’t respond, but there’s a faint smile on his lips as he turns back to the training ground, ready to spar again. And though he doesn’t say it, you can feel the warmth in his actions - the way he stands a little closer, the way his eyes flick to you more often than usual.

“Maybe”, you mutter to yourself before returning to the training field by his side.

Choso Kamo

You never imagined that a simple grocery store run would turn into a whole situation. You’re wandering down the aisles, trying to decide between two different brands of pasta when you notice a guy lingering nearby. At first, you think nothing of it, people shop all the time, after all.

But then he approaches.

“Hey, need any help with that?” he asks, giving you a smile that’s a little too friendly for comfort.

You offer a polite smile back, shaking your head. Oh, you know men like him good enough, the ones who are only interested to drag you into bed. You’ve seen them countless times before, but in the grocery store? People are really desperate nowadays.

“No, I’m good, thanks.”

He doesn’t leave, though. Instead, he steps closer, his eyes roaming over you in a way that makes your skin crawl.

“You sure? I’ve got some great recipes I could share with you. Maybe over dinner sometime?”

You glance around, feeling trapped in the narrow aisle with no way out and no one nearby. Fuck, this isn’t good. Even if he won’t do anything in the grocery store, you still have to get back home – alone. And with that dark lust glittering in his eyes, he definitely won’t give up.

Just as you’re about to make up an excuse to leave and steady yourself for ramming your knee into his groin, you hear a familiar voice behind you.

“She’s already got dinner plans,” Choso announces, his tone calm but firm as he steps up beside you.

Choso.

Your heart skips a beat when you seem him, his eyes resting comforting on yours. Choso’s here? He didn’t even mention that he’ll go shopping when you last saw him at jujutsu high.

He places a gentle hand on your lower back, guiding you away from the guy with a quiet confidence that leaves no room for argument.

The guy raises an eyebrow, clearly irritated by the interruption.

“Oh yeah? And who are you?”

Choso’s expression doesn’t change, his dark eyes locked on the man with a quiet intensity.

“I’m her boyfriend.”

The guy snorts, clearly not believing it at first, but when he sees the way Choso stands protectively at your side, he seems to reconsider.

“Right… well, my bad,” he mutters before turning and walking away.

You let out a shaky breath, your body relaxing as soon as the guy is out of sight.

“Thank you. I thought this creep will follow me until I’m home” you murmur, looking up at Choso with a relieved smile.

“You could have just killed him.”

“You know I couldn’t do that…”, you reply with a scolding undertone.

These past weeks, you’ve spent a lot time with Choso and taught him simple human interaction. Was this why he stood up for you like that?

Choso glances down at you, his hand still resting lightly on your back.

“Are you okay?”

You nod, more than grateful for his presence. Even though his hand still resting against your back sends shivers down your spine.

In a strangely good way.

“Yeah, I’m fine now. I just… didn’t know how to get rid of him.”

Choso frowns slightly, his gaze softening as he watches you.

“You don’t have to deal with that alone. I’m always here if you need me. From now own, we will go to the grocery store together” he replies quietly.

Your heart swells at his words, and you smile up at him, feeling a warmth in your chest that goes beyond simple gratitude.

“I know. And I’m really lucky to have you.”

Choso’s cheeks flush slightly at your words, but he gives you a small nod, his usual calm demeanor returning.

“Let’s finish shopping,” he says, gently guiding you toward the next aisle.

“I’ll stick close, just in case.”

Gojo Satoru

The bass thumps through your body, the vibrations of the music almost tangible as they pulse through the packed nightclub. Neon lights flash over your head, casting everything in a rainbow of colors, and the crowd moves like a living, breathing body. It's a typical night out with Gojo, who insisted you both hit the club after a long week of missions.

You spot him easily in the chaos, standing at the bar with his signature sunglasses on even in the dim, flashing light. His presence is impossible to miss. After all, Gojo is always the center of attention wherever he goes. His tall frame, casual stance, and self-assured grin naturally draw people in. And tonight is no exception.

You watch from the other side of the club as a woman approaches him, her gaze locked on Gojo like a predator targeting her prey. She’s tall, confident, and clearly intent on making her move. At first, you don’t think much of it - this kind of thing happens all the time when you’re out with him. Gojo is Gojo, after all. But the way she leans into him, brushing her hand against his arm, makes something sharp twist in your gut.

You try to shake it off. You’re not the jealous type, and Gojo has always been playful when it comes to flirting. He simply enjoys the attention, but you know it’s harmless. Still, there’s something about the way this woman is looking at him that makes you feel uneasy.

Even though your not even his fucking girlfriend.

As you make your way through the crowd, heading toward the bar, you see the woman press herself closer to Gojo, her lips moving near his ear as she says something you can’t hear over the pounding music. Gojo’s grin only widens, and he says something back, causing the woman to laugh, her hand lingering on his chest.

Your pace quickens, a mix of frustration and something else bubbling up inside you. You’ve been with Gojo long enough to know how he works, but tonight, for some reason, the sight of him entertaining someone else makes your chest tighten.

Finally, you reach the bar just as the woman leans in even closer, her hand now resting on his shoulder.

“Hey,” you say, louder than necessary to cut through the music.

“I see you’ve made a friend.”

Gojo turns his head at the sound of your voice, his trademark grin plastered on his face.

“Oh, hey, babe!” he calls over the music, completely unfazed.

“I was just chatting with—uh, sorry, what was your name again?”

Wait, did he just call you babe?

The woman looks visibly annoyed as Gojo fumbles for her name, her gaze flicking to you with thinly veiled irritation.

“I was just about to get us drinks,” she purrs, trying to brush off your presence, clearly not deterred by the fact that Gojo is here with you.

You raise an eyebrow at her audacity, but before you can respond, Gojo’s arm snakes around your waist, pulling you close to him with a casual but unmistakably possessive gesture. His hand rests securely on your hip, and he leans down so his mouth is close to your ear, his breath warm against your skin.

You feel like fainting. Or maybe dying? Oh, your heart will definitely beat out of your chest if that dream continues.

“She’s not really my type,” he murmurs, his voice low but playful.

“I’m more into, well… you.”

Despite the loud music, the tension in the air shifts instantly. The woman stares at you, clearly catching Gojo’s not-so-subtle dismissal, her expression darkening. And you? If it wasn’t for Gojo’s hand that keeps you in place, you’d land straight on your wobbly knees.

“Really?” she huffs, glaring at you like you’ve somehow intruded on her territory.

“Yeah. Besides, I’m already taken” Gojo replies easily, his grin never wavering.

You feel a small surge of satisfaction at his words even though you know he’s lying to annoy the hell out of her, but the woman isn’t ready to give up just yet. She scoffs, crossing her arms over her chest.

“You sure you’re not missing out?” she challenges, giving you a once-over that makes your skin crawl.

Gojo’s grip tightens on your waist, and this time, his playful smile fades just a fraction.

“Nope, I’m sure. I don’t think we need any drinks after all. They won’t help with your disgusting attitude anyway” he comments, his tone firmer.

With that, he smoothly turns his back on her, guiding you away from the bar and into the crowd. You glance back just in time to see the woman’s face fall, a mixture of disbelief and irritation crossing her features before she disappears into the crowd of people.

Once you’re safely away from the bar, Gojo turns to you, his grin back in place as if nothing happened.

“You okay?” he asks, his voice light and teasing, but there’s a flicker of concern in his eyes.

“Yeah,” you mutter, feeling your face heat up slightly.

“But you…Did you just call me your girlfriend?”

Gojo’s smile softens, and he reaches up to gently cup your chin, tilting your face up so you’re looking at him.

“What if I did? Would that be okay for you?”

Your heart skips a beat, your body reacting to his words in an instant. Is he making fun of you, testing you? No, you can feel that he means it by the way he holds you by your waist, his fingers resting there like he’s afraid to let go. The world around you feels muffled, the music and the crowd fading into the background. It’s just you and Gojo now, his bright blue eyes shining under the neon lights.

You swallow, trying to find your voice.

“I-I… I don’t know,” you stammer, suddenly feeling like the confident façade you normally carry around him has vanished. The way he’s looking at you so seriously, intently, is doing things to your heart that you can’t quite control.

“I mean, you don’t-”

Gojo interrupts you with a soft laugh, his hand sliding up from your waist to gently brush a strand of hair behind your ear.

“You don’t have to answer right now, you know,” he mutters, his voice a little softer than before.

“But I’ve been thinking about it for a while. I guess tonight just gave me the perfect excuse.”

You blink at him, too stunned to speak. Gojo Satoru, who flirts with everyone, who acts like nothing ever truly gets to him, has been thinking about you as more than just a friend? You’ve always had a bit of a thing for him, of course. It’s hard not to when he’s charming, gorgeous, and undeniably protective when it comes to you. But you never thought he felt the same way.

“I thought you were just messing with me,” you admit, your voice a little quieter now, feeling vulnerable under his gaze.

He grins, though this time it’s softer, not the usual cocky smirk.

“I mess with everyone. But with you? It’s different. I don’t just want your attention, I want you.”

His words sink in, and suddenly the air between you feels charged. Your heart is pounding in your chest, and you feel like you’re standing on the edge of something huge. You’ve seen Gojo in action. So fearless, confident, always in control, but the way he’s looking at you right now is different. He’s giving you the choice.

A swell of warmth floods through you as you meet his gaze. Maybe it’s the alcohol you drank earlier, or maybe it’s the fact that he’s just so close, but you can’t hold back anymore.

“You’re not playing around, are you?” you ask, searching his face for any sign of his usual teasing.

His smile softens further as he shakes his head.

“Not this time.”

Something inside you snaps, and before you can stop yourself, you close the gap between you.

You wrap your arms around his neck and press your lips to his in a kiss that’s been building for far too long. Gojo freezes for a moment, clearly surprised, but it only takes a second before he’s kissing you back with an intensity that makes your knees weak. His hand tightens on your waist, pulling you closer, and the world around you disappears completely.

The kiss is electric, everything you imagined it would be and more. You can feel the pent-up tension between you finally break as his lips move against yours, and when he deepens the kiss, your mind goes blank. All you can think about is the way he tastes, the way he feels, and the way your body seems to mold perfectly against his.

When you finally pull back, breathless and a little dizzy, Gojo is grinning down at you like you’ve just handed him the world.

“Well,” he comments, his voice slightly rougher than usual,

“I guess that answers my question.”

You laugh, your heart pounding wildly in your chest.

“I guess it does.”

He doesn’t let go of you, his arms still wrapped securely around your waist.

“You know, I don’t usually do this. Y’know, getting serious with anyone” he starts, his tone light but sincere.

“I know,” you reply, your smile softening.

“But I think we’re both a little different when it comes to each other, aren’t we?”

Gojo’s eyes flicker with something deeper as he nods.

“Yeah, we are” he murmurs, brushing his thumb gently along your cheek.

The club around you is still loud and chaotic, but in this moment, it feels like it’s just the two of you. Gojo, for once, isn’t playing his usual games. His smile is genuine, and there’s a warmth in his eyes that makes your heart race.

“So, does this mean I get to call you my girlfriend for real?” he questions, his grin slowly returning.

You laugh, feeling lightheaded and happy as you look up at him.

“Only if I get to call you my boyfriend.”

He raises an eyebrow, that familiar playful smirk creeping back onto his face.

“Oh, I think that can be arranged.”

Before you can say anything else, Gojo leans down and kisses you again, slow and deep, like he’s making sure this is real. And for the first time in a long time, everything feels right.

Tags:

@arehzhera @ploylulla @tzubaki @beatrexworld @kenstarsworld

@hellkaiserinphoenix  @lauv4chuuya @sindela @kayleegomez @sunshine7queen

@magalimachete @gatitam @idontknow1123 @creative1writings @sanicsmut 

@mynahx3 @sad-darksoul @chilichopsticks @hellkaiserinphoenix @chuyasthighs0

@ynackerman9499 @keepghostly  @froufrousnowman @tomiokathedepresso @gojosrealwife 

@coffeeluvr96 @mahi-tamashi @weebotaku21 @chaoticwinnercupcake @lees-chaotic-brain 

@risuola  @sugurulefttesticle @wordskeeper @baku2345 @polarbvnny

@ruixrei @bam-bam-bam-bame-blog @lavenderdrxp @localhehecat @alicerhr

@sugu-love @belovedvamp @wifenanami @chilichopsticks @dlwlrmas-world

@oikawarz @darkstarlight82 @satoreo @kentocalls @cheesemachine44

@ryva @kenjakusconcubine @baku2345 @komelrebi-san @deezy12299

@okay-it-is-ivy @paridoliaaa @cupcaketeddybehr @ryumurin

[peachdues]

ALL THE THINGS WE LEFT UNSAID — PROLOGUE + TEASER

Tengen’s Bundle of Joy • Secret Pregnancy AU

A/N: surprise! Have a first look at Tengen’s installment of my Bundle of Joy series.

This fic will be multi-part canon-AU. It is a non-linear story (alternating between Then and Now) and double surprise! It will be a slow burn (just because they fuck doesn’t mean they’re in love!)

CW: MDNI • this story features explicit sexual content • secret pregnancy • angst • mentions of injury/head wound • these two are stubborn as fuck lmao

PROLOGUE

“The Sound Hashira is rumored to be in this region. Some mission.”

Your comrade’s off-handed comment freezes you in your step.

“Where.”

Your fellow Kinoe shrugs, unaware of the way your eyes dart anxiously around the clutter of wooden homes and ramshackle shops, as though you half-expect the silver-haired swordsman to leap out from the shadows at any moment.

“It’s not like we get details of the Hashira’s missions shared with us,” he brushes you off with a yawn. His arms fold behind his head, his gait lazy and far too casual for someone of his position as he struts lazily along an uneven path that leads to the small building marked with a fading, painted wisteria crest. “We might be Kinoe, but we’re still bottom feeders compared to them.”

You hum in half-hearted agreement, but your attention to your fellow Slayer — to your mission — flounders as the knowledge you’ve worked desperately ignore explodes out of the mental bottle you’d shoved it into.

Beneath the ever-tightening buttons of your uniform shirt your stomach has begun to swell. Slight; not yet noticeable to the naked eye, but sure as hell prominent when you’re fighting to close the last two buttons or fasten your hakama pants.

You thumb absently at your belt — now loosened two notches. Perhaps you’ll take a cue from the Love Pillar’s book and opt for a skirt. At least the waist would sit higher up, the pleats, offering cover you’ll need while you figure out what the fuck it is you’re going to do. It won’t be long before your secret is exposed; before word inevitably reaches the jewel-crusted ears of the very one you want most to avoid.

You’d be more useful dead.

A callous thing to say to a subordinate, let alone someone who’d risked their neck on more than one occasion to preserve his. And, for all the testiness that had built between you over the years, a resentment born of your mutual inability to confront the other honestly, you hadn’t expected him to resort to that.

You’d known he regretted his words the moment he hurled them your way, but it was too little, too late. And it hadn’t stopped you from leveling his ire with your own, your response a series of poisoned darts you were only happy to launch right back his way.

I look forward to meeting your expectations.

But it was his regret, perhaps, that led him to grab you by the bicep as you’d tried to leave, that yanked you back to face him, breath heavy and pupils dilating.

The crack fissuring across your chest had been dulled by the way his hand swallowed your arm; how his mouth crashed into yours, and the powerful movements of his body. But once he’d collapsed atop you, panting and spent, the wounds he’d inflicted turned raw once more, the salt of his sweat preventing your blood from clotting where he’d torn your chest clean open.

You manage a furtive shake of your head, dispersing the memory of his body and his violence from your mind. This is not the time for you to pick at the scab over your heart, not after you spent the better part of the last two months trying to force it to form. For now, you need to focus on getting the hell out of here; to get as far away from this desolate corner of the earth before the universe decides to throw you back at him.

Before he knows.

Your comrade prattles on, bragging over how he’s been lucky enough to see the Sound Pillar in battle, oblivious to the smirk settling on your lips in spite of yourself. The Kinoe you’ve traveled with seems unaware that in detailing the way the Corp’s great Uzui had appeared out of thin air to save him and the handful of other slayers cornered by a particularly fearsome avian demon, he’s admitting to his own ineptitude in finishing off the beast on his own.

The Hashira don’t come unless hope is lost; the fact Uzui had appeared at all meant they’d been done for. Yet, he wears the boast of having needed his ass saved by one who’d undoubtedly disposed of the demon with a painful swiftness like a badge of honor.

You know better.

For all the ways your fellow swordsman brags over having witnessed the Pillar’s great display of strength, you’ve seen him weak. Not only that, but you’d been the direct cause of such weakness; you’d broken him down, made him give into temptations he believed he’d suppressed.

But that weakness has led you here — chewing on your thumbnail in a fit of anxiety your comrade remains woefully ignorant of as you try banishing the memories of the Sound Pillar’s weakness from your mind.

More, you’d begged him, sweaty and panting and delirious. More.

He’d obliged you — enthusiastically so. And the way you’d fallen apart in his arms showed you that you were just as weak as he.

Not once had he bothered to apologize for what he’d done; what he’d said. And his too casual pronouncement that your death — as gruesome and violent as your profession demanded — would be a better convenience than for him to work through his own bullshit was a slash through your chest even his most fervent apologies wouldn’t be able to stitch back together.

Not that you thought he ever would offer one — but the image of him dropping to his knees and begging you for forgiveness you wouldn’t allow yourself to give was a small comfort to your bitter heart.

Besides, you’d claimed the privilege of having the last word by not saying any at all. Instead, you’d crept away from the inn, leaving him asleep on the discarded heap of his uniform in the room you’d been forced to share.

You’d given him exactly what he’d given you — nothing. And that vindication had been as sweet as it was short-lived. Now, you’re stuck with the consequences of your own pride and weakness without any idea of what to do about it.

Feigning indifference where Tengen Uzui was concerned, however, is your speciality; a skill you’d perfected just as surely as you’d mastered shadow breathing. Thus, the mask of cool neutrality is easy to slip on as you listen to your comrade continue prattling on about skill levels and techniques to improve breathing styles, chiming with a mildly interested nod when necessary.

And you plot; plot your escape from this tiny fishing village, plot how best to guard the secret you know won’t remain such for much longer. Running away from your problems had always been far easier than forcing yourself to choke them down, and this time will be no different. Of that much, you’re certain.

Coward, a voice that sounds suspiciously close to Uzui’s hisses in your head. Coward.

And so, you continue to strategize your best chance at avoiding the storm brimming on your horizon as your fellow Kinoe continues, too consumed by his blustering to notice how your had drifts to your stomach, resting on the hidden curve where the Sound Hashira’s child grows.

—-

BONUS

“The baby — the baby —“

“Where?” Tengen surveys the wreckage scattered around you, ears carefully pricked for any cry, any smaller, weaker heartbeat, but for all his strain, he can discern none. “Was it a village kid?” He jostles you as much as he can, trying to force your eyes into focus. “Where, Y/N?”

But you only keep muttering the baby, your brow furrowed, your head twitching as though in dissent, though it remains limited where it is braced in the crook of Tengen’s massive arm.

He swears under his breath as your eyes roll into your head, your lips straining to form the mantra you cannot stop repeating, even as your breath turns shallow and raspy. Two fingers find the pulse point in your neck, and Tengen swears again at weakened beat of your heart.

“You don’t get to die.” He snaps at you, hand slapping lightly at your bloodied cheek. “You don’t get to run away. Not now. Not again.”

He needs to figure out where else you might be injured — that way he can help, can stabilize you before the Kakushi arrive. You’re not taking the easy way out this time. He would stand at the gates of heaven or hell itself to block your way, ready to haul your ass right back to life so he could chew your ass out the way you so obviously needed. And once he did, he can put this volatile, tempestuous thing between you to rest. He can free himself of the bonds you’d snapped around his wrists the moment you first sized him up and cut him down with a few, caustic words.

Then, he might finally be able to let you go.

Gritting his teeth, Tengen surveys your body. Your head wound is the most prominent, but no matter how much blood mats in your hair and streaks down your face, he knows better than to assume that it’s the worst you’ve sustained.

Gently, his hands smooth along your body, and he notes every odd bend, every lump along your joints that does not belong.

“The ba — baby —“ your voice grows fainter with each word, and Tengen can only see a sliver of white peeking out from between your eyelids.

Beneath the dark crimson of your blood your skin has turned ashen.

“Y/N.” The hoarseness of his voice has nothing to do with the smoldering flames and thick smoke that has burned the village to its skeleton. His hand slides to your abdomen, ready to position you in his arms so he can run with you, can tow you to the nearest Kakushi. You will not die; he forbids it, he forbids you from even trying —

His hand settles on your navel and freezes.

Beneath the flush of his palm is a curve; an outward swelling of your stomach that had been hidden under the loose fit of your uniform shirt, but under his touch, it is unmistakeable.

A bump. A sizeable bump extends from your abdomen.

The grunts and groans of the houses and structures giving way to the crackling flames fall away, his ears filling instant with a high-pitched ring that pulses in time with his thundering heart. The sweat rolling down his neck turns cold, his chest tightening until his lungs burn. Slowly, his eyes drag back up your body until he finds your graying face once more.

For one, brief moment, your eyes flutter open and search wildly before landing on his, wide and frozen in his horror.

“The baby.” You say once more, in explanation and confession. And then your eyes roll back into your skull and you turn limp in Tengen’s trembling arms.

[rootedinrevisions]

Kinktober 2024: Day 12

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Sorry if this one's not as good as some of the other Kinktober things I've posted. I am running on a serious lack of sleep and an unhealthy amount of caffeine. So there may be some mistakes I missed proofreading. But hopefully you still enjoy it!

PROMPT: "Do you know how hard you make it to keep my hands off you?"

KINK: Uniform Kink

WARNINGS: 18+ SMUT. (Oral: Female Receiving, P in V Sex.)

WORD COUNT: 4.6k

TAG LIST: See Comments Below

If you would like to be added to any of my Tag Lists please feel free to comment, send an ask, or send a DM and I'll be happy to get you added! (I currently have one for Glen Powell & His Characters, One for Bradley/Rooster now, and then a third for WWE/Wrestling. I also can create one for Bucky & other MCU characters if there's interest for more of those characters!)

You weren’t nervous walking into The Hard Deck—not at first. You’d been in San Diego for the summer, looking for fun and maybe a little excitement. Matching with Jake Seresin on Tinder seemed like just that—a summer fling with a ridiculously attractive guy who, based on his profile, didn’t take life too seriously. All of his pictures were casual: him in a white or black T-shirt, jeans, and that one photo of him at the beach that had you staring at your screen longer than you’d admit.

You’d chatted for a few days—mostly flirty, nothing too deep—but when he invited you out to this bar, you figured why not? It was supposed to be just for fun. No pressure.

But the moment you stepped inside, all that confidence you’d walked in with started to falter. Your eyes found Jake instantly, standing near the pool tables at the back of the bar. Except he wasn’t in jeans and a T-shirt like you’d expected. No, Jake was in full Service Khakis, his uniform pristine and fitted in a way that made it impossible not to stare. He looked so different from the laid-back guy in his profile. Somehow, seeing him like this—with his blonde hair perfectly tousled, green eyes sharp, and that devastatingly handsome smile—took him to a whole new level.

Your heart skipped a beat, and for a second, you wondered if you were in over your head.

Jake was in the middle of lining up his next shot when he saw you step through the door, and his focus shifted entirely. Handing off the pool cue to Rooster without a word, he straightened up, a grin already forming as he moved to meet you halfway across the bar. His Service Khakis fit him like a glove, the kind of look that was impossible to ignore. And from the way his green eyes lit up as he saw you approaching, he was just as eager to finally meet in person.

“Seresin,” he said smoothly, offering you a hand. “Jake Seresin. But I guess you already knew that.”

You smiled, taking his hand, feeling the warm confidence in his grip. "Nice to meet you, Jake."

He wasted no time, gently guiding you over to the bar, his hand resting lightly on the small of your back. 

As the bartender approached, Jake’s eyes flicked toward you with a teasing grin. “So, what’s it gonna be? Let me guess—something fruity with rum or vodka?”

His voice dripped with playful confidence, clearly assuming he had you figured out. 

But when you raised a brow and said, "Whiskey. Neat," you could practically see the moment you caught him off guard. He blinked, a flicker of surprise crossing his face before that smirk returned.

“Whiskey, huh?” he drawled, clearly impressed. 

You raised a brow, leaning against the bar. “Why, what drink did you think I was?”

Jake chuckled, shaking his head slightly. “Honestly? I was expecting something sweeter.”

You shot him a teasing smile as you took your drink. “What kind of girl do you think I am?”

He leaned in closer, his voice dropping just enough to feel intimate. “I guess that’s something I’ll have to figure out.”

You grinned, your eyes glinting with mischief. “Guess you will.”

With drinks in hand, you and Jake made your way back to the pool tables. The room was alive with chatter, but your focus was entirely on him—and his was undoubtedly on you.

He grabbed a pool cue and handed it to you, his eyes trailing down your figure with a smirk. "You any good at this, or should I go easy on you?" His voice dripped with teasing confidence.

You tilted your head, giving him a pointed look. "Oh, I can hold my own, Seresin. But I wouldn’t mind watching you try."

His eyes glinted at the challenge, and you felt the buzz of anticipation in the air between you, the kind that made your skin warm. He was everything you'd usually avoid—cocky, a little too charming for his own good—but in that uniform, with that grin, he was impossible to resist.

Jake leaned over the table to line up his shot, and your gaze flickered down to the way his biceps flexed beneath the crisp fabric of his uniform. He noticed, of course.

“Like what you see?” he asked, a low chuckle escaping his lips without breaking his focus.

You rolled your eyes, trying not to let on how much you did. "Maybe. Haven't decided yet."

He straightened up, walking over to you with that confident swagger, closing the space between you just a little too much. 

His voice was low as he said, “You know, you’re making it hard to concentrate over here.”

You grinned, biting your lip before responding. “Do you know how hard you make it to keep my hands off you?”

Jake’s smirk widened, clearly enjoying how flustered you were trying not to be. He stepped closer, his chest nearly brushing against yours. “Funny, I was just thinking the same thing about you.”

The tension simmered, unspoken but undeniable. You took a small step back, forcing yourself to keep the upper hand, and shook your head with a smile. “I’m not that easy, Jake. If you want me to take you seriously, you’ll have to work for it.”

He grinned, leaning casually against the pool table, his gaze never leaving yours. “Who says I’m not up for the challenge?”

Over the next hour, the flirting became a game of give and take. Every shot you made, he found an excuse to stand closer, to brush his hand lightly against yours, to flash that smile that made your stomach flutter. His eyes would flicker to your lips, lingering just long enough to make you wonder if he was going to kiss you right then and there.

You were acutely aware of every move he made—the way his fingers gripped the pool cue, the effortless confidence in his stance. He was making it hard to say no, and he knew it. The cockiness wasn’t overbearing, though; it was just enough to keep you on your toes, wanting more.

Finally, after another round, Jake leaned down next to you as you lined up a shot, his breath warm against your neck. 

“So,” he murmured, his lips almost brushing your ear, “how long are we going to pretend you don’t want me to take you home tonight?”

Your heart skipped a beat, but you managed to keep your cool, straightening up and turning to face him, keeping your expression teasing. “Maybe I’m just making sure you’ve earned it.”

Jake raised a brow, stepping even closer until you were almost pinned between him and the table. His voice was low and full of that confident drawl. “Trust me, sweetheart, when you’re ready, I’ll make it worth your while.”

There it was—the line between teasing and something more serious, and you could feel it shift in that moment. Your pulse quickened, the weight of the decision settling between you.

You gave him a playful smile, letting the tension linger just a little longer. 

“You know, I think I might just take you up on that offer,” you said, tilting your head. “But first, I think you owe me a win on the pool table.”

Jake’s smirk was instant, the cocky edge returning as he handed you the cue. “Whatever you say, darlin'. But just so you know, when I take you home tonight, it’ll be the best win you’ve ever had.”

The two of you were deep into the pool game, but you could tell by the way Jake was playing that he wasn’t giving it his all. You smirked to yourself, noticing how his shots always seemed to fall just short of the pocket, his moves just a little too casual. It was clear he planned on letting you win, and while you appreciated the gesture, you had no intention of dragging this game out. Not with the way your heart was racing every time he leaned a little too close or flashed that confident smile.

Lining up your next shot, you took a deep breath, feeling his eyes on you. You purposely missed, standing up straight and stretching your arms as if calling it quits. 

“You know, Jake,” you said casually, glancing around the bar, “it’s getting a little crowded in here. I think I’m going to head out.”

Jake’s brow furrowed for a split second, caught off guard by your sudden decision. You could see the flicker of confusion cross his face, quickly replaced by that easy grin.

“Calling it a night already, darlin’? I thought you’d want to finish the game,” he teased, though his tone carried a hint of disappointment.

You smiled softly, stepping back from the table and slinging your purse over your shoulder.

“Maybe some other time. Thanks for the drinks though,” you said, your voice light, as if you were genuinely planning on leaving alone. 

You gave him a small wave, turning toward the door. Jake straightened up, watching you head for the exit. His grin faltered just a touch, clearly not expecting you to walk away like that.

But just as you reached the edge of the crowd, you stopped. Your heart pounded in your chest as you turned your head slightly, glancing back over your shoulder. You met his gaze, holding it for a beat longer than necessary before flashing him a knowing smile. 

“You coming, too?”

Jake blinked, his surprise melting into something far more playful. His grin was back in full force as he handed his pool cue to Phoenix before making his way through the crowd toward you, his eyes locked on yours the entire time.

“You know,” he said as he caught up, that cocky edge back in his voice, “you could’ve just said you didn’t want me to go easy on you.”

You shrugged, biting back a smirk as you started toward the door, Jake falling into step beside you. “Where’s the fun in that?”

The heat between you had been simmering all night, but now it was undeniable. Every step you took together, side by side, had an electricity to it, an unspoken promise hanging in the air as you both headed out into the night.

The night air was warm as you stepped outside The Hard Deck, the distant sound of waves crashing against the shore filling the quiet space around you. Jake was close behind, his steps slowing as you reached a spot away from the crowd. You stopped and turned to face him, your pulse quickening when you met his gaze—those piercing green eyes that had been focused on you all night, filled with a quiet intensity now that you were alone.

Without thinking twice, you closed the distance between you in one smooth movement. You reached up, sliding your hands around the back of his neck, and pulled him down toward you, your lips pressing against his. The kiss was sudden and electric, all the teasing and tension from the night culminating in this one moment. Jake's response was immediate—his hands found your waist, gripping you firmly and pulling you closer until there was no space left between your bodies.

His kiss was just as confident as he was, but there was a hint of something more, something that made your heart race faster. You could feel the heat radiating from him, his touch strong but careful, as if he had been waiting for this all night.

When you finally pulled away, your lips still tingling from the kiss, you looked up at him, breathless but composed. 

“So,” you said, your voice teasing as you tilted your head slightly, “are you going to take me home…Lieutenant?”

Jake’s grin was instant—one of those slow, easy smiles that seemed to light up his whole face. The title sounded damn good coming from you, and he couldn’t help but chuckle at the way you said it.

“Yes, ma’am,” he drawled, his voice low and full of promise. 

His hand slid down to capture yours, and with one last look that made your knees weak, he turned toward the parking lot, tugging you along with him.

As you walked side by side, the charged energy between you had shifted. No more teasing, no more holding back. Tonight, you were both crossing that line, and neither of you was looking back.

Jake’s truck rumbled to life as the two of you settled inside, the low hum of the engine the only sound at first. He focused on the road ahead, but you couldn’t stop sneaking glances his way. Even now, after the kiss that had left your heart racing, the sight of him in that uniform was doing things to you. His broad shoulders filled out the khaki shirt perfectly, the crisp lines of his Navy service uniform making him somehow even more irresistible than you’d imagined.

Jake noticed, of course. After a few minutes, he smirked and glanced over at you, his green eyes catching yours as you quickly looked away, trying not to be too obvious. 

"You keep staring at me like that, darlin’, and I’m gonna start thinking you’ve got a thing for guys in uniform," he teased, his voice light but laced with that ever-present cocky confidence. "You know…you could just take a picture. It’ll last longer."

You rolled your eyes at him, biting back a grin. “Well, I would,” you replied, glancing at him again, "but something tells me no picture could really do you justice." That made Jake’s smirk widen, but before he could fire back, you continued, your voice a little softer now, more honest. "But...I have to admit, there’s something about you in that uniform that makes it hard to help myself."

He glanced over at you again, raising an eyebrow as if he hadn’t expected that level of honesty. 

"Oh yeah?" His tone dropped, the teasing giving way to something a little more serious. "And what exactly is it that gets to you, sweetheart? The authority? The way it fits?" He let the question hang, his voice like a low rumble as he asked.

You felt your cheeks heat up, but you didn’t back down. You leaned back in your seat, turning fully to look at him now. "Maybe it’s the way you carry yourself in it," you said, your eyes tracing his profile, "or maybe it’s just how good you look in it. Either way…it’s working for you."

Jake chuckled softly, clearly pleased with your response, though his grip on the steering wheel tightened just a little. "Well, I gotta say…I like the way you’re lookin’ at me right now," he said, his voice quieter, more intent, as he focused on the road. "Makes it real hard to keep my eyes where they’re supposed to be."

The tension in the truck thickened as your words hung between you, the atmosphere shifting from playful to charged once more. You both knew where the night was headed, but for now, the anticipation was building with every shared glance, every teasing word.

When Jake pulled up outside your apartment, you could barely wait to get inside, that teasing grin of his still playing on your mind. As you led him up the stairs, your heart raced, knowing exactly where the night was headed.

As soon as you unlocked the door and stepped inside, Jake wasted no time. His hand caught the door, swinging it shut behind him with a soft thud before his lips were on yours again—hot, insistent, and full of that same hunger you’d felt building between you all night. His hands were on your waist, pulling you firmly into him, his body heat radiating through the thin fabric of his uniform as he pressed against you.

You melted into the kiss, your fingers threading through his sun-kissed hair as you pushed up on your toes, giving into the intoxicating pull of him. The smell of his cologne—woodsy and warm—mixed with the scent of the sea still lingering faintly on him, a reminder of his life out there, on the edge.

Your back hit the wall near the entryway, but neither of you broke the kiss. If anything, it deepened, the urgency between you growing as his hands roamed your sides, finding the hem of your shirt and slipping underneath, his touch warm against your skin. Jake groaned softly against your lips, his body pressing harder against yours as if he couldn’t get close enough.

When you finally pulled back to catch your breath, your chest heaving, his forehead rested against yours. He was still holding you close, his eyes half-lidded but dark with want. 

"You sure you want me here, darlin’?" he asked, his voice rough and low, a mix of that cocky confidence and something deeper, a kind of restraint that surprised you after the way he’d been looking at you all night.

You met his gaze, your hands still tangled in his hair as you nodded, your voice breathless but certain. "Yeah, Jake. I want you here."

That was all the encouragement he needed. His lips were back on yours in an instant, his hands lifting you off the ground as he backed you toward the hallway leading to your bedroom. Each step he took felt deliberate, as though he was savoring every second, every touch, the intensity between you simmering just beneath the surface.

The moment you reached the bedroom, the tension that had been crackling between you and Jake finally snapped. His lips stayed on yours as you fumbled your way toward the bed, your hands roaming over the fabric of his uniform. When your legs hit the edge of the mattress, he pulled back just enough to tug at your clothes, his fingers moving with surprising gentleness given the hunger in his eyes.

Piece by piece, he undressed you, taking in every inch of newly exposed skin with that signature Hangman smirk. When you were finally bare in front of him, Jake’s eyes darkened, his gaze raking over your body in a way that made your skin tingle.

"Goddamn," he murmured, his voice thick with admiration. "You’re perfect."

Heat rushed to your cheeks at the compliment, but before he could strip out of his uniform, your hands shot out to stop him. You placed your palms on his chest, shaking your head with a teasing smile. 

"Keep it on... for now."

Jake raised an eyebrow, his smirk widening into that cocky grin you’d come to love. "Yes, ma’am," he drawled, his voice low and rough.

His hands found your hips again, and with gentle pressure, he guided you down onto the bed, your back meeting the soft sheets beneath you. His strong hands slid up your thighs, spreading them apart slowly as he kneeled between your legs.

You felt your heart race in anticipation as he leaned down, his lips brushing the sensitive skin of your inner thigh. Every kiss, every touch, sent a jolt of electricity through you. He paused, just shy of where you needed him most, and looked up at you with that same mischievous glint in his eyes, as though waiting for you to say something.

But you couldn’t, not when he was this close, not when your body was already aching for him. Your breath hitched as his lips finally found their way to the space between your legs, and any teasing thoughts you had were replaced by pure, unadulterated need.

Jake didn’t waste any time. The moment his mouth pressed against you, a wave of pleasure hit you, and it became clear just how skilled he was. His tongue moved with purpose, tracing every sensitive spot, and you couldn’t help the small gasps that escaped your lips. He knew exactly what he was doing, and it felt as if every flick of his tongue was calculated to drive you closer to the edge.

The sensation was overwhelming, but what really did it for you was the sight of him—his head between your thighs, looking up at you with that same hungry intensity. His khaki uniform was still on, the sleeves pulling taut around his arms as he gripped your legs, keeping you in place. The combination of that pristine military uniform and the absolute sin he was committing between your legs made the whole experience even more intoxicating.

“Look at you,” he murmured, his voice low and thick as he pulled back just enough to speak. His lips glistened from his efforts, his eyes locked on yours. “You look so good like this. You’re close, aren’t you?”

You could barely respond, too wrapped up in the overwhelming pleasure coursing through you. He knew, though—he could feel the way your body tensed, the way your breathing quickened.

“Come on, baby,” he coaxed, his voice soft but commanding. “Let go for me. I want to feel you.”

His words were like a spark, setting off something deep inside you. The combination of his mouth and his voice, that low drawl filled with desire, pushed you right to the brink. His tongue circled you again, slow and deliberate, and your body responded instinctively, arching up off the bed as your release started to build.

“That’s it,” Jake whispered, his fingers digging into your thighs as he held you steady. “Come for me, sweetheart. I want to hear you.”

With a final flick of his tongue and the pressure of his lips, you felt yourself unravel. The world seemed to blur for a moment as your climax hit you hard, your moans filling the room as Jake worked you through it, never letting up until every last bit of pleasure had coursed through you.

Jake climbed onto the bed, hovering over you, a teasing smile playing on his lips as he brushed a few stray strands of hair away from your face. The warmth of his body radiated down to you, and your heart raced as he leaned in for a kiss, his mouth moving softly against yours.

Your hands instinctively moved to his uniform shirt, fingers deftly working to undo the buttons. With each one that came undone, his kisses traveled down to your neck, teasing and sucking softly before he pulled back, leaning closer to your ear.

“You know,” he drawled, his voice thick with that signature Hangman cockiness, “I know you like the uniform on me, but I think you’d like it even better off.”

With that, he sat up, leaning back on his heels, and you watched, entranced, as he slowly undid the buttons you hadn’t gotten to. The fabric fell away from his shoulders and arms, revealing toned muscles that made your breath hitch. Then he pulled his white tank top over his head, and your hands instinctively reached out, running down his chest and abs.

You’d seen the beach pictures on his profile, but seeing him in person was a whole different experience. The way his muscles flexed beneath your fingertips sent shivers down your spine.

He moved to the edge of the bed, his fingers deftly removing his belt and sliding down his pants. When he was finally undressed, he joined you back on the bed, sitting on the edge as he pulled you gently to straddle his lap. His hands found your waist, grounding you as your arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him closer.

“I want to feel you,” you whispered, desire lacing your words.

Jake’s expression shifted, a hint of hesitation flashing across his face. “I don’t have any protection with me,” he admitted, the cockiness momentarily replaced by sincerity.

You felt a wave of relief wash over you. Thankfully, you still had some condoms in your nightstand from your last relationship. Leaning over, Jake’s hands steadying you, you reached into the drawer and pulled one out. He slid it on himself with ease, and the moment felt electric, anticipation crackling in the air.

You positioned yourself over him, lifting your hips slightly. As you slowly slid down, both of you let out moans, the feeling of him filling you making your body tingle with pleasure. His hands on your waist began to guide your pace, but soon he decided he wanted more, thrusting up into you with urgency. Your head fell back as waves of pleasure washed over you. 

“God, that feels so good,” you breathed out, lost in the moment.

“Let me hear you,” he encouraged, his voice deep and low, urging you to speak.

You called out his name, breathless with desire, but he smirked, challenging you. “Uh uh, what’s my name?”

In that moment, the realization of what he wanted ignited something within you. You moaned out, “Lieutenant,” and the satisfaction in his eyes made you feel even more exhilarated.

He picked up the pace, thrusting into you with a hunger that matched your own, pushing you closer and closer to the edge. 

“That’s it, baby,” he breathed, his hands gripping your waist as he continued to drive you both higher, the world outside forgotten as you focused solely on each other.

The rhythm between you two intensified, each thrust igniting the fire building within you. As you felt the heat coil tighter in your core, Jake's hands gripped your waist, guiding you as he drove deeper, his breath ragged against your ear.

“Let go for me,” he urged, his voice thick with desire, urging you to reach that peak with him. You felt every nerve ending come alive, the pleasure building to an exquisite tension that threatened to consume you both.

With a few more powerful thrusts, the dam inside you broke. A wave of ecstasy washed over you, sending you spiraling into bliss. “Jake!” you cried out, feeling yourself unravel as pleasure coursed through you. Your body tightened around him, pulling him in deeper as he met you, the two of you surrendering to the moment together.

Jake let out a low groan, the sound sending another shiver through you as he hit his own release, filling you as the heat radiated between you. You could feel the tension dissipate, the world around you fading into the background as you both lost yourselves in the afterglow of your shared climax.

The two of you collapsed onto the bed, breathless and entwined. You lay there, bodies still connected, as the warmth of the moment enveloped you. Jake’s fingers traced gentle patterns on your skin, his breath gradually slowing as he smiled down at you.

“That was…” he started, searching for the right words, his grin wide and genuine.

“Unforgettable,” you finished, looking up at him, a satisfied smile spreading across your face.

He chuckled softly, brushing a lock of hair behind your ear. “You’re not too bad yourself, you know that?”

You rolled onto your side, propping your head up with your hand as you gazed at him, feeling a mix of affection and exhilaration. The energy still buzzed between you, a reminder of the passion you’d just shared.

As you both lay there, the reality of your summer fling washed over you. Jake wasn’t just some guy you met on a dating app; he was the kind of man who took your breath away, and for tonight, you were grateful for every moment you’d get with him.

[auroralwriting]

Consider: Bucky thinking he’s misplaced his dog tags, only to find that the reader’s been holding them hostage/wearing them because he’s (accidentally) ignoring her, and the reader knows this was the best way to ensure she finally gets his attention

attention

avenger!bucky barnes x avenger!reader (after tfatws)

bucky's been ignoring you, and you know how to get his attention.

word count: 1.5k | warnings: light angst but overall fluff

Bucky had never been one to keep too busy. He liked things low key, relaxed, casual. Even while Sam, himself, and you were reforming the Avengers, he always made time for you, his best friend.

Deep down, though, you knew you both weren't just friends. Late nights drinking beer and dancing were enough to tell you that you both were more than just friends. It seemed like Bucky knew it too, seeing as he refused to go on any dates Sam tried to set up or even download Tinder, which he wouldn't have done anyways.

After a long, hard few months of trying to find funding, Clint had suggested Kate Bishop, his somewhat protege, who happened to be rich as fuck as you'd later find out. After seeing her skills, you knew she was perfect for the team.

Kate was quick to suggest Yelena, who took a week and a half longer than Kate to convince, meaning it took her a week and a half to say yes after what she called, 'obsessive behavior' of finding her and begging her to join.

Now, the Avengers were back, and slowly becoming better. Sam was busy working out arrangements with the government while Kate bought the necessary equipment for you all. Yelena was focused on making the best uniforms for you all (filled with many pockets), and Bucky was focused on finding leads to focus on. You, on the other hand, handled the press that was looming over you all.

Even with all of that, Bucky made time for you. However, it was becoming apparent he was finding excuses to not see you.

It began with the excuses that he was busy with leads.

"Buck!" You called in a sing-song voice as you walked in the room he was sat in. "I just bought us a twelve pack, and I think Star Wars is calling our names." You smiled as you walked up next to him.

He barely even looked up from his computer screen, "I can't tonight. I think I have a lead and I need to focus before it goes off-grid."

Okay, that seemed totally reasonable. "Oh, of course. Maybe tomorrow," You smiled.

"Maybe," Bucky said, voice so nonchalant you weren't sure if he had even registered your voice. So, you said a soft goodbye and left the room, feeling confused and awkward.

The next time it happened, it was four days later. Bucky was sat on the computer again when you approached. "Hey Bucky, I was wondering if you wanted to take a nighttime drive on your Harley? It's been a while since we've ridden."

"Outta gas," Bucky's voice was monotone as he replied. "Some other time."

Immediately, it felt like a punch to the gut, which you've felt more than once and this one hurt worse. "Oh, yeah." You muttered as you walked away.

That night, you contemplated everything that had been happening. What had you done to upset Bucky to the point of avoiding you? There had to be some reasonable explanation to this, right? The only way to find out for sure was to get Bucky to actually speak to you again.

When the morning came, you woke up extra early. Bucky was an early riser. You weren't sure if that was from his time in the military or Hydra. You made your way to his room where he was absent. It took just a moment to see the steam leaking from under his bathroom door for you to figure out he was showering. As you looked around his room, you looked at the table next to his bed and saw your target: his dog tags.

Bucky never did anything without those on. They were a part of him, and you'd never even seen him without them on. Maybe it was a bit too invasive, but it felt like the only solid way to get Bucky to speak to you.

You carefully walked up to his nightstand and grabbed the tags, looping them around your neck and tucking them under your shirt. The metal was cold on your sternum, and you had to wonder if the coolness of the tags reminded Bucky of his arm.

The thought was quickly thrown to the side as the noise of running water disappeared. You quickly made your way out of his room, making sure to be extra silent due to his super soldier hearing. You shut the door as quietly as you could and made your way to your room where you collapsed on your bed, the adrenaline of it all making you feel out of breath.

You looked at the clock, six forty-three. The time began now to see how long it took for Bucky to realize you were the thief of his dog tags.

Bucky felt the panic rise on his chest when he saw that his dog tags were not on his nightstand where he left them after getting up. He had the same routine: wake up, take off his tags, and shower.

He searched all around the area to see if they fell. No luck. Bucky felt stumped about where they could be.

There was no way they could've fallen off at any point yesterday. Sam and him spent the evening sparring, and he would've told Bucky if he'd seen the tags laying around. Plus, Bucky remembered taking them off when he woke up.

So where could they possibly be?

They couldn't have broken and fallen off without him noticing, right? They were tags from the forties, there was a chance they just didn't withstand the test of time. Bucky always knew they were on him, though. Those tags were almost a part of his body. He would have felt if they weren't on.

Then, it hit him. The only person who knew just how much they meant to Bucky was you. Was there any way you had taken them?

Bucky quickly made his way to your room, knocking on the door a little bit harsher than he intended too. He looked at the clock that was hung on the wall next to him, it was seven o'eight. There was no chance you were awake.

The door opened slowly and a very anxious looking you. All Bucky could see was just your head, the rest of your body was hidden behind the door.

"Well, look who's come to see me." You said in a flat tone.

Bucky sighed, "I'm sorry, I've been busy. Have you seen my tags?"

His abruptness made you flash your eyebrows upward. "Your dog tags?"

"The only tags I wear," Bucky sighed, growing more frustrated by the situation as the second hand on the clock ticked. It was then that Bucky spotted a flash of silver from the small part of your neck. He pushed the door open further and was able to spot the chain just peaking out from your shirt.

Before Bucky got a chance to say anything, your eyes became watery. A small sense of newfound panic coursed through Bucky's veins. "You kept blowing me off," Your voice sounded small and fragile as you admitted your feelings to Bucky.

"Doll, you know I didn't mean too." Bucky sighed as you sat down on your bed. He was quick to follow, sitting thigh to thigh with you.

"But you were so mean," Bucky didn't think he could feel his heart break more until he heard you small voice call him mean. You were right, he was being mean, but it wasn't on purpose.

Bucky set his hand over your own, his thumb grazing over your knuckles. "M' sorry, Doll. I didn't mean to be mean." Bucky sighed, his head hanging in a sense of shame. He'd never meant to hurt you.

"Why?" You asked in reply, looking at him with confusion.

Bucky stuttered over his words for a moment, taking a breath to calm himself. "I realized that my feelings for you aren't just.."

"Friendly?" You offered. Bucky's eyes flashed to your face, surprise taking over his features. He didn't know you also realized it, too.

"Yeah, that." Bucky nodded. "And I got scared." Bucky sighed, his metal hand rubbing over his face as he took a shaky breath. "I never expected myself to feel this way about someone, especially someone so good."

You felt your heart melt at Bucky's words. "Buck," You mumbled, flipping over the hand that was over yours so your fingers intertwined.

"I never meant to hurt you, doll." Bucky reiterated, looking at you with a gentle care. "Please, forgive me."

"Only if you forgive me for taking these," You replied, hand slipping from his so you could take off his tags.

You set them in his hand as he stared at them. "You know exactly what to do to get my attention, huh?" His next move surprised you, his hands going behind your head as you felt the coolness of the chain relaxing around your neck once more.

"Bucky, no. I can't-"

"I want you too," Bucky urged, staring deep into your eyes. "They're yours. I'm yours."

You felt your heart warm at his words. "Are you sure?"

"I've never been more sure of anything, doll." Bucky replied, a soft smile playing his lips as you enclosed your fist around the tags.

"I'll guard them with my life," You promised.

Bucky exhaled, "I know you will."

[divineecelestial]

Pretty Girl [3] Eddie Munson x fem!reader

Summary — Eddie thinks he'll actually die if you keep ignoring him. So he's going to make you talk to him. Even if that means climbing through your window.

Word Count — 3.1k

Warnings — graphic depictions of sexual activity, oral sex (fem receiving) dirty talk, Eddie jerks off while eating you out

18+ ONLY

I didn't forget about you sluts.

“I can take you home.” 

You watched as your group of friends slowly disappeared from view, their voices diminishing into silence as the car drove further down the road. The smile faded from your lips as a chilly breeze crashed against you were overcome with the realization that you were alone. Both literally and figuratively. Your friends, something you weren’t even certain you could call them, had forgotten you. No, that wasn’t the right word. Left you must’ve been more accurate because they knew you were there but none of them seemed to even care they left you alone under a yellow streetlamp on an empty road as raindrops dampened your uniform. Yes, left behind was the right term for it. Disregarded and ignored. You glanced down at the brown stains on your white, or what used to be sneakers. Goosebumps rose on your exposed legs as you crossed your arms, trying to preserve as much warmth as you could. You took a deep breath, readying yourself for the journey home as your eyes stung with warm tears.

With reluctance, you peered over your shoulder and sighed shakily. There was a flicker of anger passing through you as you took him in; casually leaning against his van with his adorned hands stuffed inside his pockets. Of course, he was there. He was always there whenever you needed him as far away as possible. You blinked away the dwelling tears and whirled around, ignoring his presence entirely. You didn’t make it very far before you heard his heavy footsteps near you. “Oh, come on. I might be a dick but I’m not gonna let you walk home alone, at night, in the rain.” You wanted to remark that ‘might’ wasn’t accurate. He was a dick. “Especially in your pretty little uniform.” 

You could feel your strands of hair sticking to your skin as you hesitantly faced him. “Oh, so you’re gonna protect me?” You questioned as if the mere idea of him keeping you from everything that goes bump in the night was ridiculous. Because that wasn’t him and that wasn’t how this dynamic worked. “I don’t think so. I’d rather take my chances with whatever is out there.” You said, glancing at the darkness surrounding the town. You knew what was out there. Dealt with everything that could’ve possibly killed you and survived, but here you were, dreading getting inside a car with him.

He loomed closer and your glare hardened as your nostrils flared. God, he couldn’t get over how pretty you looked when you were mad at him. You were finally acknowledging him again with that delicious anger he’d been craving. And for a brief moment, he couldn’t have even bothered to notice your wrath flaming beneath your harsh gaze because you were finally acknowledging him. You were finally looking at him with those damn eyes he swore he could lose himself in and he didn’t seem to care that you were only looking at him because you were on the verge of slapping him across the face.

  Things were different. And this time, this change wasn’t a welcome one and you were desperate for everything to suddenly transform back to ‘normal’. Or as normal as things could get between you two. The weekend arrived and you didn’t want to go anywhere, irrationally worried you were going to see him. Avoiding him like he was contaminated with the plague wasn’t something you were used to. Sure, before this relationship progressed, you didn’t go out of your way to speak with him, but now, you couldn’t even walk in the same hallway without being consumed by embarrassment. 

As ridiculous as this might’ve seemed, the kiss you abruptly pressed against him was strangely intimate. Well, for you it was. Because sex could just be something as simple as people seeking physical pleasure from another person. A simple hook-up. That connection was fiery, consuming, and temporary. You might not have had sex with him, but he allowed you to chase that all-consuming pleasure from him and you felt stupid for thinking he could’ve thought of you as anything other than some sex toy. You kissed him and he rejected you. 

“You don’t mean that.” His smirk was cruel and you were moments from scratching his face until he was unrecognizable. “Come on, pretty girl. I’ll keep my hands to myself and drive with two hands on the wheel.” 

As soon as the words fell from his lips, another breeze moved through the ice-cold air and you shivered. The light rainfall slowly dampened his unruly hair and you knew the downpour was going to drastically change soon. You looked upward at the dark skies and clamoring clouds, silently cursing at them for this. Oh, gosh, this couldn’t be happening. You couldn’t seriously be considering this. Sitting in a small and enclosed space with Eddie Munson for who knows how long after he had practically rejected you was outrageous. You were going to deny the offer when a loud crack echoed throughout town. Thunder. His smile only widened. “Fine. Give me your jacket.” He raised his eyebrows at the sudden demand but complied regardless. That’s how it worked between you both; you demanded and he complied. Most of the time.  In one fluid movement, his jacket was removed and he wordlessly handed it to you. You removed your backpack and cheer bag and roughly smacked it against his chest before walking to his passenger door, decidedly ignoring his groan. He quickened his pace to open the door for you. “If you try any of your shit, I’m jumping out of the car.” You warned.

His jacket was warm and smelled like his cologne and weed. You tightened the fabric around yourself and flicked on the heater. He pulled away from the school’s desolate parking lot and drove away. A minute hadn’t gone by before he opened his mouth. “Why were you at school this late?” He knew why. He had practically memorized your schedule and knew exactly what you were doing most days, but he just wanted to listen to your voice. It had been too long since he had heard your voice directed at him.

You were quiet and didn’t answer immediately. He was going to ask the question again before your voice filled the confines of his car. “Cheer practice.” You answered shortly, gaze remaining outside the window and at the passing blur of colors. “You?” You hesitantly asked. You didn’t know why you bothered asking. You knew what he was doing there. He was cleaning the mess left behind by the Hellfire Club and doing whatever else dungeon masters do. You only knew because the kids were practically attached to him. It’s not like you wanted to know or asked about it before. Of course not.

“Hellfire.” And you must’ve been delusional if you thought Eddie was granting you some kind of mercy and deciding to drive the remainder of the trip in sweet silence. Yes, delusional indeed. “I’ve been trying to talk to you. These past couple of days, you know.” You did know, it was impossible to not notice such an imposing figure in your life like him. Beneath the facade of flippancy and sarcasm, there was the undeniable truth—he was hurt. And this wasn’t an ordinary kind of hurt. This was an ache that throbbed and demanded to be felt, the lifeless thump of a cracked heart before transforming into a sharpness, unlike anything he had ever experienced. Heartache was a disease desperate to be felt. The cure of his was inches away from him, shrouded with his clothes.

“I didn’t notice.” You lied straight through your teeth and he knew you were lying. 

His eyes remained on the road, but his grip on the wheel tightened. “I just wish you would let me explain—”

You breathed in sharply. “There isn’t anything to explain.” Another lie. 

There was another crackle and a flash of light scattered across the sky. “Yes, there is. Just let me—” 

The driveway of your household was steadily approaching and you were already unbuckling your seatbelt, practically tumbling outside as soon as the van stopped moving. “Thank you for the ride.” He watched as you disappeared behind your door, closing it without glancing back. 

Beneath the warmth of your blankets, you readjusted yourself with your eyes closed. Your face was smushed against your pillows, a small sigh escaping you as you squeezed your pillow tighter. The sound of your window opening filled the silent air and your eyes snapped open, hurriedly looking over your shoulder before jolting upright. “Your hair is sticking out everywhere.” A voice said casually. “Cute.” 

The chill from the midnight breeze crashed against you like an icy tidal wave. Across the room, and casually perched on your windowsill, was Eddie. You rubbed the side of your face and groaned, promptly shoving your face back onto your baby pink pillows. You should’ve been worried, frightened even, that he had broken into your room, but the only emotion you could manage was exhaustion. “What are you doing here?” Your voice was muffled as you spoke into the fabric.

This must’ve been a figment of his depraved imagination, a scene plucked from his dreams—you were languidly sprawled across your blankets and wearing nothing but a small nightgown. And that nightgown revealed the softness of your breasts as you slowly faced him, your bare ass peeking beneath the thin fabric. As you pressed your cheek against your palm, finally offering your hazy attention, the breath was stolen from lungs and he subtly latched onto the windowsill to steady himself. “You know, those friends back there didn’t really seem like friends. Just an observation.” He was stalling. He knew he was, but he was desperate for a semblance of normality. 

You breathed in sharply. “Well, you can keep your observations to yourself.” 

It was silent for a beat. “You wanna hear another observation?” He didn’t care if you didn’t.

You yawned, blinking slowly. “Not really, but I’m sure you're going to share anyway.”

He smiled, thoroughly enjoying the annoyance searing your voice. “I think you like being around me because you don’t have to pretend. You can be your mean, stubborn, and bratty self around me. Around them, you have to be The Head Cheerleader.” You weren’t even focusing on the coldness filling the room or even acknowledging that he was inside your room. That hadn’t been processed completely. Yet. “It’s obvious. I don’t know how no one else doesn’t notice.”

Through your sleepy gaze, you narrowed your eyes. “You think you know me, Munson?” 

“No, I do know you.” He answered so surely. “I think you’re forgetting I grew up with you.” That wasn’t something you could ever forget even if you had tried. And you had desperately. “You were my first-ever crush. I was obsessed with you. Still am, by the way.” He casually added. “I grew up watching you. I memorized everything about you. I even watched those damn pep rallies for you. Failed classes so you could be my tutor. I even bribed Mr. Johnson so I could be your partner for the project that let me see those pretty little panties of yours.”

He moved away from the windowsill and loomed closer to the edge of your bed. “So I need you to understand something. You were my first and only crush. You were my first of many wet dreams. You were the only girl who made me nervous and made me feel like some lovesick loser because you looked at me. There were times when I couldn’t fucking function because you smelled so good, said something so damn smart in class, or yelled at Carver for being a dick. I need you to understand I have been and still am, fucking crazy for you and you kissed me.”

He kneeled, his tentative hands softly caressing your thighs before pressing a small kiss on your knee. “I need you to understand that I’m the loser who plays D&D with freshmen, sells weed, and hasn’t had a girlfriend, who fucking watches porn to practice for this exact moment and you’re you.” Another gentle kiss on your other knee. “And, fuck, you’re so perfect. The goddamn prettiest girl I’ve ever seen.” A kiss on your thigh. “So damn smart.” Another kiss on your other thigh. “And you’re funny. You challenge me.” His nose nudged the hem of your nightgown as he licked the inside of your thigh. “So I do know you and I know you like me. And that’s something I can’t wrap my head around.”

You shuddered as his breath brushed against your skin, unintentionally wrapping your leg around his shoulder, your calf pressed against his back, pulling him closer. You whispered his name, a plead for something. Anything. Your voice, breathless and desperate, was a siren’s call and he would’ve swam to the depths of the darkest ocean to hear it again and again.

The words uttered from his flushed lips were barely processed as lifted the hem of your nightgown. His eyes rolled to the back of his head before closing them, almost as if he were murmuring a silent prayer, and he took a moment to admire the godly sight before him. Hidden beneath the softness of your nightgown and thighs was something he had only dreamed of. Yeah, of course, he’d seen pussies before. From porn, mind you, but this was unlike anything he’d ever seen before. He didn’t understand how you, probably the most perfect woman to ever roam this earth, had just become even better. 

You could feel each slow breath from him as he simply admired. “Do something.” You whispered. Your voice was a soft reminder that he needed to move, do something as you put it. Slowly, his tongue dragged across your pussy and a primal groan escaped his mouth. He pulled away suddenly and you glanced at him curiously. He looked concentrated, brows scrunched together in deep thought. “I-Is something wrong?” 

A moment passed and he shook his head. “I’m just trying not to cum.” He eventually said. 

You threw your head back and laughed, which was stifled by a moan as he shoved his head back between your thighs. His initial movements were experimental, unsure, but as he continued and listened to your sounds, he knew what he was doing. Sort of. “Fuck, yes.” Your voice was unrecognizable to your own ears and the moans slipping from your lips were unlike anything you had made when alone. 

This was the exact moment where Eddie decided he was going to marry you in the future. But first he was going to make you cum. 

With his tongue still flicking against your clit, occasionally sucking, he unzipped his jeans and pulled his cock from the confines of his clothes. Your legs shook as he shoved two ringed fingers inside you, slowly pumping you and memorizing every detail of this moment before he gathered the juices of your arousal and jerked himself off. “So fucking wet.” He said, pathetically whining as the pornographic sound of your wetness coated his cock. “I don’t know how I lived this long without tasting you.”

Your thighs pressed against his face as your hand pulled his hair and he promptly decided if he were to die tonight, he would die a happy man. This is where he belonged. Most men wanted to be businessmen, sleep on a bed full of money with dozens of women keeping them company, but he didn’t. His face shoved between your shaking thighs, sucking on your clit as you yanked his hair and moaned his name, was where he belonged. “Please don’t stop.” You pleaded. And as much as Eddie loved hearing you yell at him, he decided this was how he wanted to hear you from now on. "Yes, yes, yes. Don't stop."

“Wouldn’t dream of it, my pretty girl.” God, him and that nickname were going to be the death of you. 

“I-I’m gonna—” Your voice cracked and you couldn’t finish your own sentence. 

His hand clutched your thigh with a newfound roughness, pulling your closer, and his other hand squeezed and tugged his leaking cock. “Come on, pretty girl. Come for me.” His pace and movements didn’t change or falter. “Give it to me. Come for me, please. I need it.” 

At that moment, you decided Eddie wasn’t going anywhere. He was never getting rid of you because he ate your pussy like a starving man and made you cum until you saw twinkling stars. “You have the filthiest fucking mouth—”

His wet mouth pressed against yours, his hands coated with your juices and he clutched your cheek. “You taste that?” He asked after pulling away, his lips faintly brushed against yours, teasing. “That’s the taste of the prettiest girl—” He kissed you again and you were barely able to process the softness of his mouth against you before he pulled away again. “Who fucking likes me and can’t deny it.”

And his knees buckled as you smiled and wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him against you. “What have you done to me, Eddie Munson?”  You mumbled. He could feel your glittering smile against his and there wasn’t anything more beautiful. 

He saw the gilded walls surrounding your heart and decided he was going to do everything he could to get there. He poked and prodded, tugged and pulled before deciding to take a jackhammer and destroy everything keeping him from you. “My five-year plan of seducing you finally worked.” And he stopped for only a moment, processing the mere fact that this was real. He was really touching you, tasting you, licking your cum off his soaked lips. “I’ve dreamed of this.” His voice was low and below a whisper, his warm breath tickling your face with each word. You could feel the warmth of his lips touching your shoulder, a ghostly caress against your skin.  

You placed a few random pecks on his face. “I really like you, Eddie Munson.” There was vulnerability exuding from you, unlike anything he’d ever seen from you before. 

“So this is what the famous [Y/N] is like behind closed doors.” The pouring rain soaked the floor outside your room, the grey clouds visible through the droplet-covered windows.  "Who would’ve thought my pretty girl was so sweet?” 

You playfully rolled your eyes, smacking his arm. “Shut up.” You laughed. He would've fought (and probably lose) anyone just to hear that beautiful sound again and again.

“That’s not what you were saying earlier. Oh, Eddie, please don’t stop. I’m gonna cum!” He mocked with an obnoxiously high pitched voice.

You decided a another kiss would be the best way to shut him up. “God, you’re so pretty I’m gonna faint.” He mumbled, squeezing your breasts and pinching your hardened nipples. “Can I please fuck you? If I don’t fuck you and cum inside that pretty pussy, I think I’ll die.”

You moaned into his mouth and he gratefully swallowed the sound. “Yeah, come on, Eds, fill me up.”

“Fuck yes.”

[rocknrollwhcre]

Love Can Burn Like A Cigarette

Pairing: Eddie Munson x F! Reader (18+)

Content Warning: strong language and profanity, emotional manipulation and toxic relationship dynamics, physical altercation (slapping, shoving), depictions of verbal arguments and intense emotional distress, themes of infidelity and jealousy

Summary: Things aren’t looking good between you and Eddie…

A/N: divider by @saradika-graphics !!! Not that anyone will remember, but I originally wrote and posted this fic back in 2022. I ended up deleting my work and blog for personal reasons, but I’ve decided to rewrite it and post it again. :)

You barge into the backroom of Scoops with Robin trailing close behind, her footsteps quickening to match your angry stride. She opens her mouth as if she’s about to say something, but one look at your flushed face convinces her otherwise. She watches you with concern as you yank off your sweat-soaked shirt, tossing it aside with a huff. The sticky uniform you're required to wear stares back at you from a hook, and you mutter under your breath, wishing you could burn it.

Robin, always the practical one, moves to the mini fridge, fishing out a cold bottle of water. She places it gently on the small, cluttered table between the staff lockers. "Here," she says softly, her eyes never leaving your face. She drops into one of the worn-out chairs and pats the seat next to her, giving you that familiar look that says, I’m here. Talk to me.

You take the offer, sinking into the chair with a long sigh before gulping down half the bottle in one go. The cold water is a relief, cooling you from the inside out. You finally feel the tightness in your chest start to ease.

Robin tilts her head, her brows knitting together with worry. “Okay, so what’s going on? And why do you look like you just ran a marathon?”

“Eddie Munson,” you spit out the name like it’s poison.

Robin’s face scrunches up in disgust. “Ugh. Gross. I swear, if you and Eddie—”

You shake your head, a dry laugh escaping your lips. “No, nothing like that. I’m all hot and sweaty because we got into this huge argument. I refused to get into his van, and he just smirks and says, ‘Fine, walk to work then.’ Can you believe that? Complete asshole.”

Robin’s eyes widen. “Are you serious? You’re like, miles away from here! You could’ve passed out from heatstroke or something.”

You snort. “Well, according to Mr. I-Failed-Senior-Year-Twice, it’s ‘just a short walk.’ The guy’s idea of distance is as bad as his grades.”

Robin chuckles, shaking her head. “Honestly, how do you even put up with him?”

You shrug, feeling a mix of frustration and something else—something like the smallest hint of amusement. “I ask myself that every day.”

Just then, Steve pokes his head through the small service window, trying to look casual, but you know he’s been eavesdropping the whole time. His eyes shift between you and Robin, but he settles his gaze on you with a pointed look. “Eddie’s here. Wants to talk to you,” he says, his voice heavy with the kind of sarcasm that only comes from dealing with Eddie Munson on a regular basis.

You exchange a knowing glance with Robin, who raises an eyebrow. “But, hey, at least he knows when he’s wrong and can apologize,” you suggest, half-convincing yourself as you grab your ridiculous sailor hat. Robin gives you a doubtful look, but you ignore it, adjusting the hat with a small breath to steady your nerves. Maybe this time will be different, you think, as you head out to the front, hoping for an apology but bracing yourself just in case.

Eddie is waiting by the counter, leaning against it with that trademark smug grin plastered across his face. His hair is a wild mess, and he looks far too pleased with himself.

“Hey, princess. How was the walk?” he asks, his tone teasing as his eyes gleam with amusement.

You roll your eyes, crossing your arms over your chest. “Oh, it was great, actually. I’ve heard getting some sun is good for you—something about vitamin D,” you shoot back, your voice laced with sarcasm.

“Glad to hear it,” Eddie replies, barely missing a beat. “Because you’re gonna need another dose. My van’s busted, had to leave it at the garage for repairs.” He picks up one of the flimsy menus from the counter and flips through it like he actually cares what's on it.

You narrow your eyes. “Uh, don’t you mean we have to walk home?”

He looks up with a lazy grin. “No, I mean you have to walk. Funny thing, I bumped into Roxy on my way here, and she very graciously offered to give me a ride home. You remember Roxy, right?”

How could you forget? The mere mention of her name sets your teeth on edge. Roxy, the redheaded bitch who’s been circling Eddie like a vulture ever since you two got together three years ago. She’s got that classic bad-girl look down: leather jackets, tight skirts with ripped fishnets, blood-red nails, and enough black eyeliner to intimidate a raccoon. The kind of girl who fits right into Eddie’s metalhead world. You feel your eye twitch involuntarily, the familiar surge of irritation bubbling up inside you.

You force a smile, though it feels like it might crack at any second. “Is that all you came here for, Eddie?” you ask, trying to keep your voice steady.

Eddie's smirk widens, and you can tell by the glint in his eyes that he knows he’s gotten under your skin. “Actually, since I’m here, how about a small cookies 'n' cream shake and—”

“Oh, would you look at that! We’re all out of ice cream,” you interrupt, your voice dripping with fake cheerfulness. Before he can say another word, you grab him by the arm and start steering him toward the door. “Come back later!”

Eddie doesn’t resist; he’s too busy laughing, clearly enjoying how riled up he’s made you. His laughter echoes down the mall as he disappears up the stairs, probably to waste more of his time somewhere else. You let out an exasperated huff, your patience wearing thin.

Robin, still perched on a stool behind the counter, looks bewildered as she munches on a cookie. “Who’s Roxy?” she asks, her mouth half-full.

“Only the hottest girl The Hideout has ever seen,” Steve chimes in, leaning against the counter and taking a long sip of his shake. His casual tone is enough to make your blood boil, and without thinking, you land a solid punch on his arm.

“Ow! What was that for?” Steve yelps, rubbing his arm and giving you an offended look.

“Get back to work,” you snap, snatching his shake right out of his hand and dumping it into the trash without a second thought. Steve stares at the garbage can, then at you, his mouth agape, but you’re already turning away, too annoyed to care.

—

It’s been five days since the argument, and neither of you has made the first move to apologize. In fact, each day has become a new game of seeing who can push the other's buttons harder, and today, Eddie was clearly in the lead.

You’re wiping down the sticky tables, the sweet smell of melted ice cream lingering in the air, when Eddie strolls in with Roxanne by his side. Roxy’s eyes are all over him, like he’s the only guy in the room, but Eddie seems oblivious to it—or maybe he’s just pretending to be. They make their way to the counter, and Roxy leans over to obnoxiously ring the bell, the sound grating on your nerves.

“What’s a guy gotta do to get some decent service around here?” Eddie calls out, his gaze locked onto you with a teasing smirk.

Robin and Steve are out getting lunch, leaving you alone to man the counter. Lucky you. You toss the rag onto the table and head over to the register. “What do you want, Eddie?”

He leans against the counter, his smirk deepening. “Now, is that any way to greet a paying customer?” he taunts, clearly reveling in the way your eyes flick daggers at Roxy, who’s practically glued to his side.

You let out a sharp breath, summoning your best fake smile, the kind that doesn’t reach your eyes. “What can I get you today?” you say through clenched teeth.

Eddie clicks his tongue in mock disappointment. “Come on, I’m pretty sure you guys have a slogan for greeting customers. Let’s hear it.”

Roxanne lets out a soft, condescending laugh, her lips curling into a smirk.

You bite back a retort, forcing yourself to keep up the act. “Would you like to sail the ocean of flavors? I’ll be your captain today. What can I get you?” The words come out stiff and robotic, practically dragged out of you, but Eddie’s grin only widens.

“Good girl,” Eddie murmurs, low enough that only you can hear, his voice a mix of teasing and something else that sends heat rushing to your cheeks. You can feel your face flushing, but you keep your expression neutral. “Anyway, I’ll have that cookies ‘n’ cream shake. What about you, Rox?”

Roxy leans in closer to him, practically pressing herself against his arm as she gives you a once-over. “I’ll just share with you. Don’t want to eat too much and mess up my figure,” she says, her gaze sliding over you with a smirk that makes your blood boil.

It takes every ounce of self-control not to leap over the counter and throttle her, but you clench your jaw and turn away, focusing on making the damn shake. Your hands move on autopilot, scooping the ice cream, blending it up, and pouring it into the cup, all while you imagine various scenarios where you tell them both exactly where they can shove this order. With forced calm, you place the shake on the counter in front of them and watch as they saunter off to a booth. Eddie's eyes keep darting over to you, but you pretend not to notice, burying yourself in the never-ending list of chores to stay busy and keep from glaring daggers at him.

Just as you start wiping down the counter for the third time, you glance up and catch Roxy reaching over to brush a crumb from Eddie’s lip with her thumb, her touch lingering longer than necessary. Before you can react, the bell above the door jingles, and Steve and Robin come back, a takeout bag swinging in Robin’s hand. She takes one look at Roxy playing at doting girlfriend and makes a loud gagging noise.

Roxy rolls her eyes but doesn’t pull away. You decide it’s the perfect time for your lunch break. Tossing your apron aside, you head for the door, but just as you pass their booth, you feel something hard underfoot—Roxy’s boot. You stumble forward and crash to your knees, the sharp pain shooting up your legs.

“Are you fucking kidding me!” you shout, springing up with fury boiling over. Without thinking, you lunge at Roxy, ready to grab a fistful of that perfect red hair and let loose, but Steve grabs you around the waist, pulling you back.

Eddie jumps up, positioning himself between you and Roxy, his hands wrapping around your fists, trying to contain you. “Babe! Just chill out, it was an accident! You’re making a scene!” he says, his tone somewhere between pleading and annoyed.

“Oh, fuck you, Eddie!” you snap, struggling against Steve’s hold. “You’re the one making scenes, showing up here with that slut!”

“Hey!” Eddie's eyes flash with anger. “She’s my friend, and I’m not going to stand here and let you disrespect her like that!”

You scoff, feeling the sting of betrayal sharp in your chest. “Yeah, a ‘friend’ who’s been trying to screw you for years, Eddie! Open your eyes! You know what? Just go. Get the hell out of here.”

“Fine, we will. Come on, Roxy.” Eddie’s voice is cold, his face hard as stone as he turns his back on you, motioning for Roxy to follow.

You watch, stunned, as he actually starts to leave with her. The disbelief sinks in like a weight in your stomach. You wrench yourself free from Steve’s grip, not wanting anyone to see the tears starting to burn your eyes. Without another word, you storm to the back of the store, your heart pounding with a mix of anger and hurt.

—

Night falls, and it's finally time to close up shop. The last of the customers trickle out, their footsteps echoing through the quieting mall as they make their way to the exits. You, Steve, and Robin work together to pull down the metal gate, the clattering sound signaling the end of another long day.

“How about you join us tonight?” Robin suggests, a hopeful smile on her face as she nudges you. “Steve and I rented a stack of horror movies. We’re having a movie night.”

“Yeah! We can order a ton of pizza, make popcorn, the whole shebang,” Steve adds, clearly trying to sweeten the deal. “Come on, it'll be fun. What do you say?”

Before you can answer, you catch a glimpse of Eddie sitting by the fountain alone, his head down, his fingers tapping absentmindedly against his knee. For a moment, you consider ignoring him, letting things stay the way they are, but something inside you pushes you to try and be the bigger person. You turn back to Robin and Steve. “Give me a second?” you ask.

They exchange a look but nod, standing by the gate as you take a deep breath and head toward Eddie. Just as you’re about to reach him, Roxy appears out of nowhere and slides onto his lap, wrapping her arms around his neck and planting a kiss right on his lips. Your stomach twists into knots.

“Oh my god, Eddie, what are you doing?” you exclaim, your heart pounding in your chest as you step forward, disbelief and hurt surging through you.

Eddie's eyes go wide, and he quickly pushes Roxy away, but she just smirks, satisfied with her little display. “Oh no, baby, we’ve been caught,” she says in a mocking sing-song voice, her eyes glittering with mischief.

“What? No!” Eddie stammers, panic flooding his expression. “Babe, it’s not what it looks like!” His hands reach out toward you, desperate to explain, but you slap them away, the sting of betrayal sharper than anything he could say.

“I hope you have a happy life together!” you shout, your voice breaking as you reach for the necklace around your neck—the one Eddie made for you, his favorite guitar pick hanging from it. You rip it off in one swift motion and throw it at him, the small piece of him that you once cherished now clattering to the ground between you. “We’re fucking done!”

“Baby, please, don’t do this!” Eddie's voice cracks, and he reaches out, grabbing your arm in a last-ditch effort to stop you. His eyes are desperate, pleading, but you’re beyond reason now. Without thinking, you use your free hand to deliver a sharp slap across his face. The sound echoes in the near-empty mall, startling even you.

You yank your arm free, turning away as the sting of your slap leaves a red mark on his cheek. Steve and Robin are at your side instantly, and as you storm off with them, you don't look back. But you can hear the ragged breath Eddie takes, his shoulders trembling as he stands there, one hand cradling his stinging cheek, his eyes wet with tears that spill down his face. He's crying, but you don’t let yourself turn around. Not this time.

[pin-k-ink]

a good soldier // narumi gen

tw ⇢ needy!sub!gen, reader is the vice captain…again, strong sexual tension, male masturbation, teasing, semi public blow job, praise kink, squirting, cunnilingus, overstimulation, face sitting, orgasm denial, edging, would this count as some sort of bondage?, dirty talk, ma’am kink

wc ⇢ 5.7k

The briefing room felt increasingly stifling as Narumi's intense stare bored into the back of your head from across the holographic tactical display.

As his girlfriend and Vice-Captain, you were accustomed to his usual unprofessional antics and bratty behavior during meetings. But today, the heated weight of his gaze carried an unmistakable edge of desperation that sent a shiver racing down your spine.

It had been weeks - far too long - since you'd last allowed Narumi's wandering hands to roam your body with blistering abandon. On the battlefield and in the briefing room, you remained consummate professionals, all prim propriety. But you knew all too well the effect such prolonged denial had on your insatiable boyfriend.

The way Narumi was practically vibrating with pent-up need, ravenous gaze tracing every subtle curve and swell beneath your uniform, spoke volumes. You risked a sidelong glance to find him palming himself shamelessly through his uniform trousers, lips parted around a ragged exhale.

"Gen!" you hissed under your breath, somehow managing to keep your voice even as a furious blush stained your cheeks. "We're on the clock here. A little decorum, please."

Rather than looking abashed at being caught, Narumi merely smirked and gave his clothed cock a shameless squeeze that made you jolt. "What's the matter, babe? Don't act like you've never wanted a little...servicing right here in the briefing room."

You opened your mouth to deliver a scathing reprimand when suddenly Narumi was there, crowding you back against the pedestal and pinning you with the scorching intensity blazing in those crimson depths.

"It's been too damn long since I've had you coming apart on my cock," he growled, the gravelly timbre of his words making your knees threaten to buckle as he nuzzled intently against the racing pulse at your throat. "So how about you stop playing Miss Prim and Proper for once, and let your captain take care of you right here..."

You instinctively shoved against Narumi's chest, putting much-needed space between your flush frames before his molten words could utterly unravel you. A muscle ticked angrily in your jaw as you fought to keep your flustered expression severe.

"That's enough, Gen!" you snapped, the reprimand echoing sharply in the enclosed room. "I don't care how worked up you've gotten - there are still other officers stationed right outside who can hear everything."

Narumi merely arched an infuriatingly smug brow, making no effort to conceal the flagrant tent pitched in his pants as he leaned casually back against the meeting table. "So? Let 'em hear for all I care. Maybe then they'd finally understand why the infamous Captain Narumi is such a grumpy hardass lately."

You sputtered incoherently at his provocative words, utterly incredulous at his lack of shame. Pinching the bridge of your nose, you struggled to ignore the vivid imagery his words had planted in your traitorous mind's eye - of Narumi snarling out his pleasure while hilting his cock in your convulsing pussy, subordinate officers listening raptly just outside the door.

"Gen, I'm warning you..." you grated out from between gritted teeth. "Another disgusting outburst like that and I'll have you written up for insubordinate conduct so fast your head will spin!"

Rather than cowing him, your toothless threat merely made Narumi throw back his head with a rich peal of laughter. In two strides he was flush against you once more, hands shamelessly palming the curves of your ass to grind his straining erection against your abdomen.

"Go ahead then, punish me," he growled against the swell of your lips, every ounce of him radiating wanton challenge. "We both know I've been a very bad boy who desperately needs his sexy vice-captain to dole out some firm discipline..."

A frustrated groan slipped past your lips as you glared up at Narumi's smug, expectant expression. He clearly thought he had you backed into a proverbial corner, at his brazen mercy to indulge his indecent whims right here and now.

Well...if he wanted to play that game, you'd simply have to flip the script on the cocky bastard.

Allowing your features to soften, you slowly trailed your palms up the solid plane of his abdomen until they framed his sharp jaw. Narumi blinked in surprise at your sudden shift from icy disdain to sultry invitation, but recovered quickly - arching into your touch like a greedy tomcat.

"There's my good girl," he rumbled approvingly, hands eagerly roaming up your sides to cup your breasts and pinch your nipples through your uniform. "I knew you couldn't resist putting this naughty captain in his place for much longer—"

Narumi's throaty words cut off in a shocked grunt when you abruptly gripped his jaw in a bruising hold, fingernails digging in just enough to catch his undivided attention.

"Don't get ahead of yourself, General Hardass," you murmured in a dangerously saccharine tone, pinning him with a look that could level cities. "I'm only doing what needs to be done to shut that insufferable mouth of yours before your idiocy gets us both demoted."

Narumi's pupils blew wide at the dominant edge to your words, hips twitching shamelessly against you as you maintained your vice-like hold. Clearly the abrupt reminder of who was in command here had him trembling on the knife's edge already.

Leaning up until your lips brushed the lobe of his ear, you allowed your voice to dip into a smoky timbre. "But make no mistake...if you can't keep your insatiable dick in line long enough for me to do my duties, I'll have no qualms about handing it over to medical to handle your little 'discipline problem' surgically. Are we clear, Captain?"

You punctuated the silken threat by raking your nails warningly down Narumi's throat, feeling his harsh swallow against your fingertips. With one final, searing look, you released him and sashayed towards the door - leaving your gasping, deliriously aroused boyfriend to contemplate the consequences of testing your patience any further.

Over the next few days, you could feel the simmering tension between you and Narumi reaching a furious boil. The exasperated glares, the lingering touches that bordered on inappropriate, the muttered curses whenever you rebuffed his advances - it was rapidly becoming a powder keg just waiting to detonate.

Gone was the cocky, self-assured captain who thrived on pushing you to deliciously frustrated limits. In his place was a needier, touchier shadow of Narumi who seemed to emanate waves of pent-up desperation wherever he went.

You'd catch him in the locker room after training sessions, fist shoved in his mouth to muffle the punched-out groans as he stroked his cock with a pair of your used panties. The sight should have appeased some of the aching need suffusing his frame.

But inevitably, it would only be hours before Narumi was dogging your heels again, hovering far closer than decorum allowed as he whined your name with increasing desperation.

"Babe, please..." he rasped out one afternoon while you tried valiantly to focus on the briefing reports. Narumi materialized at your side, broad chest pressing against your back as he nuzzled filthy promises against the thundering pulse at your throat. "I can't take much more of this torture. It's been too damned long since I've been buried in that perfect pussy..."

You couldn't bite back the full-body shudder that wracked you at his gravelly words. A petulant whine slipped from Narumi's lips as he scented the fresh arousal blooming off you, heavy lids drifting closed in rapture.

"Fuck...you have no idea how crazy you're driving me, honey," he groaned, hips shamelessly grinding against the swell of your ass until his rigid cock was a scorching brand against you. "I wake up every morning harder than titanium, aching to bury myself so deep inside that pretty pussy and flood you to the brim with everything I've got. And then I gotta face a whole day of you bending over in that sinful little uniform, teasing me until I'm about to fuckin' cream my—"

"Enough!" You slapped a hand over Narumi's filth-spewing mouth, finally feeling your restraint snap under the relentless barrage of carnal temptation he wielded with infuriating ease. "Not another word out of you unless you want me to make good on my promise to take permanent measures!"

A wicked gleam entered Narumi's hooded gaze at your barely-veiled threat of surgically relieving him of his "problem." Rather than cowing him, it seemed to embolden the brat even further - a fact made abundantly clear when he boldly gripped your wrist and dragged your hand down to cup the enormous, throbbing bulge straining his fatigues.

"Is that really what you want, Vice-Captain?" he growled, lashes fluttering rapturously as you involuntarily squeezed the incredible girth underneath your palm. "Then by all means...take your pound of flesh and gut me right here. See if you don't end up ruined for anyone but my fat cock after getting a taste of—"

You should have known better than to engage Narumi's indecent diatribe. But the combination of his lurid words and feeling the staggering size of his arousal pulsing hotly against your palm proved an insuppressible siren song.

With a muttered oath, you finally surrendered to the ravenous hunger blazing in those bi-colored depths and slanted your lips over Narumi's in a punishing kiss. A guttural groan tore free from his chest as you immediately seized control, tongue plundering the searing recesses of his mouth as your fingers worked furiously at the fastenings of his pants.

"About damn time..." he growled against your lips when you finally freed his achingly hard cock, flushed and leaking precum shamelessly. "Now be a good girl and take what's yours—"

The arrogant demand fractured off into a strangled cry as you promptly dropped to your knees, swallowing down his impressive cock in one sinuous motion until your nose nudged the coarse thatch of curls at the base. Narumi's hands fisted in your hair, hips jerking shakily as he fought not to recklessly rut against the vice-like heat of your throat.

"Oh f-fuck, baby...should've known you'd be so eager to get reacquainted with my fat dick," he stammered out through gritted teeth, quickly losing whatever bravado remained. "Feels like it's been fucking years since these sweet lips were stretched wide for me—nnnhh!"

His words dissolved into shameless mewls and curses as you hollowed your cheeks in earnest, bobbing shallowly to coat his entire length in a slick sheen of spit and pre-cum. Once sufficiently lubricated, you drew back until just the bulbous tip remained snugly nestled between your lips. Then, holding Narumi's rapturous gaze, you deliberately swallowed around the sensitive head until his knees buckled.

The control you wielded over this insufferably cocky man by simply working your well-practiced mouth was both empowering and arousing. Narumi grasped at the last vestiges of rationality as you ruthlessly brought him crashing to the precipice in mere moments.

"N-No more...gonna make me...oh fuck, I'm gonna...!" His frantic gasps gave way to a guttural bellow as his climax suddenly detonated with gale force. You moaned approvingly around the first few jets of creamy cum coating your tongue before quickly drawing back, allowing the remainder of Narumi's seed to streak across your flushed features in long, pearly ropes.

As the aftershocks subsided, you rose to your feet and pinned Narumi with a dark, heavy-lidded look that made his spent cock jump valiantly in a bid to recover.

"There, you petulant brat...was that enough to satiate your depraved appetites for the time being?" you purred, trailing a fingertip along his stubbled jaw and leaving a sticky wake of his own spend in its path. "Because I expect you to be on your best, most obedient behavior now while I take some personal time to...recharge for the main event later."

Narumi bobbed his head in a frantic, overeager nod - oceanic eyes blown wide and unfocused in the wake of his euphoric depletion. "A-Anything...anything you say, ma’am...I'll be the perfect gentleman from now on, swear it on my firstborn—"

A sly smile curved your lips at how swiftly the smug captain devolved into a quivering, blissfully servile state at your mere commanding tone. Leaning in to capture his lips in one final scorching kiss that had him whimpering against your mouth, you allowed your words to slither like a caress against the oversensitized flesh of his ear.

"We'll just have to see about that...won't we, Captain?"

You stood tall at the holographic display, every inch the consummate professional as you relayed mission directives to the assembled platoon leaders. Though your eyes occasionally strayed to where Narumi lounged in the back corner, you refused to let his presence - or memories of your earlier charged encounter - fluster your composure.

He'd given you his word to be on exemplary behavior while you took this briefing. And after the blowjob, you expected the brat to finally fall in line.

At least, for the time being.

Narumi caught your sideways glance and had the audacity to wink rakishly, tongue darting out to trace his lower lip in a blatant tease. You leveled him with a quelling look before returning your focus to the matters at hand, figuring a bit of mild provocation was simply his standard modus operandi.

That assumption proved naively optimistic when, moments later, Narumi deliberately shifted in his chair - the subtle movement accompanied by an unmistakable creak of weathered leather. Your words faltered as your gaze instinctively cut back to him, only to be met with the shamelessly lascivious sight of Narumi slowly, blatantly palming himself through his uniform.

You fought not to gape as his deft fingers worked the rapidly stiffening bulge, searing gaze locked on yours in a challenge that made your throat run dry. How dare he resort to such indecent exhibitionism here, in front of your subordinate officers!

A muscle ticked angrily along your jaw, but you persevered - continuing with the briefing as if wholly unbothered. Narumi, of course, took your intentional nonchalance as a gauntlet thrown.

Within minutes, his debauched display escalated into a one-man show of unrepentant debauchery. He spread his knees wider, hips canted up as he shamelessly fisted the entirety of his straining cock in full view of anyone who turned to look his way. Husky pantings and groans slipped past his parted lips, clearly making no effort to stifle the obscene symphony of his self-indulgence.

By the time the briefing mercifully concluded, you were wound tighter than a coiled spring - radiating a sense of barely-restrained outrage that had your bravest officers wisely avoiding eye contact. The second the room cleared, you whirled on Narumi with features contorted in incandescent fury.

"What in the EVERLOVING FUCK was that little stunt all about, Narumi?!" you snarled, stalking forward until you loomed over his slouched form. "I gave you one simple demand - behave yourself while I took this briefing. And you couldn't even obey that for thirty goddamned minutes?!"

Instead of looking cowed, a slow, filthy smirk curved Narumi's lips as he met your blazing glare with dark, heavy-lidded desire. "Oops...guess I just couldn't keep my hands off myself after our little...engagement earlier. You have that effect on me, babe."

The blatant provocation lanced through your taut shields of patience like a white-hot dagger. With a vicious snarl, you seized Narumi by the collar of his uniform and wrenched him bodily from the chair, slamming him against the nearest wall hard enough to rattle the tactical displays.

"You insufferable, depraved bastard..." you growled from between gritted teeth, hips pinning his against the surface as he gazed up at you with clear exhilaration. "I ought to report you right here and now for conduct unbecoming. Give me one good reason why I shouldn't—"

"Because you want this just as bad as I do," Narumi purred, the words dripping like heated honey from his tongue as his fingers carded through your hair to yank your face down until you were sharing the same searing breath. "The great Vice-Captain, so prim and untouchable...until her brat of a boyfriend finally pushes her over that razor-thin edge into glorious depravity..."

Despite Narumi's provocative words and brazenly defiant behavior, you could sense he underestimated the full depth of your frustration. A simmering fury burned through your veins, urging you to take decisive action before his insufferable teasing pushed you too far.

In one fluid motion, you seized Narumi by the lapels and slammed him against the wall again, pinning him there with your body weight. He let out a shocked grunt, the cockiness evaporating from his expression as you leaned in until you were nearly nose-to-nose.

"Enough of your depraved games, Gen," you bit out, voice low and dangerous. "I've indulged this childish behavior for far too long already. It's time you face the consequences."

Despite himself, Narumi's Adam's apple bobbed with a fearful swallow at the deadly seriousness in your tone. You allowed a tight smile to curve your lips, knowing you had finally gotten through that thick skull of his.

"That's better," you murmured in approval. "Now, you're going to come with me. Quietly and obediently. Because if I hear one more snippy remark or petulant whine from you, I'll make sure you deeply regret pushing me this far. Are we clear?"

Narumi could only manage a terse nod in response. Satisfied, you released your grip on his uniform and turned on your heel, beckoning him to follow with one succinct finger. To his credit, Narumi fell into step behind you without protest, an air of sullen resignation blanketing his previously smug demeanor.

You led him out of the briefing room and down the quiet corridors in tense silence. As you neared the residential wing, Narumi finally seemed to sense where you were headed, shooting you a sidelong look of mingled intrigue and trepidation.

But he remained prudently silent as you palmed open the door to your shared quarters and ushered him inside, allowing the door to hiss shut and lock behind you both.

With the door securely locked behind you, you turned to face Narumi - allowing the pent-up hunger and frustration you'd been containing to blaze through your gaze uninhibited. He visibly startled at the raw intensity suddenly emanating off you in waves.

"W-Woah...babe?" Narumi's bravado faltered as you began prowling towards him with calculated, predatory steps. "Not that I'm complainin' about your eagerness all of a sudden, but you're kinda givin' me the heebie jeebies with that look in your eyes..."

You didn't bother responding with words. Instead, you simply seized him by the shoulders and walked Narumi backwards until the backs of his knees hit the bed, forcing him to sit. He blinked up at you with a mix of arousal and apprehension clouding his features as you loomed over him.

Trailing just the tips of your nails along the ridge of his collar, you leaned down to brush your lips against the shell of Narumi's ear. "Remember how I promised there would be...consequences for your brattiness today, Captain?"

You punctuated the purr by grazing your teeth along the tendon of his throat, feeling his full-body shudder. "Well, I aim to make good on that vow. Unless you've developed cold feet?"

Narumi's response was to let out a low, guttural groan - his broad palms finding purchase on your hips and yanking you flush against his rapidly hardening cock. "Don't you dare stop now, Vice-Captain," he growled out thickly. "I've been a good little soldier and taken my punishment like a man all day. I deserve my reward..."

His words twisted off into a harsh gasp as you ground your hips against his insistent bulge in a blatant promise of things to come. Narumi's head lolled back, eyes squeezing shut as his fingers reflexively dug into the flare of your hips.

"Then I suppose it's time for your disciplining to begin, isn't it?" The words slithered past your lips in a low, sinful purr as you shoved Narumi's chest - sending him tumbling back onto the bed fully. "And this time...you're going to follow orders like the obedient little soldier you claim to be."

"First order of business..." You braced your palms on either side of Narumi's head, caging him with your body as you stared down with burning intensity. "Strip. Slowly. And if I see even a hint of that cocky attitude resurface, this disciplinary session ends before it begins. Understood?"

Narumi swallowed thickly but gave a jerky nod, hands already moving to comply with your stern command. There was no teasing smirk, no snarky comeback as his fingers found the fastenings of his uniform jacket. Just rapt focus as he methodically divested himself of each restrictive layer under your smoldering gaze.

By the time his chiseled physique was bared beneath you, the only scrap of fabric remaining was the thin regulation boxer-briefs doing little to conceal his leaking cock. Narumi's pupils were blown wide, chest heaving with each shallow pant as he fought to maintain his composure under your probing stare.

"Good boy," you purred in dark approval, allowing your nails to trail a blazing path down his abdomen - taking vicious delight in the way his muscles jumped under the featherlight caress. "Perhaps there's hope for making a proper soldier out of you yet..."

With that, you captured Narumi's lips in a searing, claiming kiss that left no question as to who held the reins of power between you. He shuddered and melted against the bunk beneath your domineering onslaught, submitting utterly as your tongue plundered the velvet heat of his mouth with brutal confidence.

Only when you finally pulled back, leaving Narumi dazed and gasping for air, did the barest hint of a smirk quirk your lips.

"And that's just a tiny preview of what delicious punishments await any further insubordination from my dear Captain..." You leaned in once more until your lips brushed tantalizingly along the line of his jaw. "So...are you going to be a good little soldier for me now?"

The breathy growl of affirmation that slipped past Narumi's kiss-swollen lips sent a fresh wave of heat pooling between your thighs. The thought of finally taming the bratty, unruly soldier you'd fallen for all those years ago was proving every bit as intoxicating as you'd fantasized.

"Y-Yes, ma’am," he stammered out, oceanic gaze burning with desperate want as he met your expectant stare. "I'll be good, I swear it...just please, give me more. I need you so fucking badly—"

You silenced his frantic pleas with a punishing roll of your hips, drawing a wrecked groan from deep in his chest as his straining cock nudged the crux of your thighs through the flimsy barrier of his briefs. "Oh, I intend to," you murmured, reaching down to hook the waistband with your fingers. "But first, I have one last task for you, my dear Captain."

A questioning whine slipped from Narumi as the dampened cloth dragged slowly over the straining curve of his erection, the material clinging lewdly to the swollen head before sliding free with a wet slap. But the noise swiftly dissolved into a broken keen as you wrapped the offending fabric around his flushed shaft, binding it with a deft twist of your wrist.

"Wh-What the fuck, baby?" he sputtered out, hips instinctively canting upwards as his cock throbbed against the constrictive fabric. "What are you—oh fuck, please!"

You shushed him with a finger pressed to his lips, savoring the sight of Narumi's flushed cock - so painfully erect, the bulbous tip flushed purple with need and drooling copiously from the slit - bound tight by his own briefs.

"Since you've proven incapable of keeping your cock in check while attending official duties, I'll simply have to do it for you," you murmured, tracing a fingertip down the pulsing vein and collecting the steady stream of precum to rub teasingly around the sensitive head. "Now, you're not to touch this perfect cock of yours unless I specifically give permission. And if I catch you trying, well...I'll have no choice but to take the most drastic measures. Are we clear, Captain?"

Narumi's face twisted in an agonized grimace, eyes glassy with desperation as his hips bucked futilely into the empty air. "F-Fuck...ma’am, please, you're being unreasonable! I've been a good boy, I've followed your every command, just please let me fuck that pretty pussy the way it deserves—"

His voice broke off with a choked sob as you abruptly seized his aching cock, giving it a cruel squeeze that made his eyes roll back. A thick bead of precum welled at the tip, spilling over to coat your fingers and stain the cotton with a darkened patch.

"I believe I asked if we're clear on this, Captain," you murmured, maintaining your vice-like hold. Narumi could only manage a broken groan, writhing weakly under your punishing grip. "Do you need further...motivation, Gen?"

At his frantic, pleading whimper, you released his cock and drew back. You slowly stripped away your uniform, making a show of every article of clothing and revealing the lacy undergarments beneath. By the time your boots hit the floor, Narumi was shaking and keening desperately - his engorged cock twitching with every shallow inhale.

"Such a good boy, taking his discipline so well..." Your hands moved to your panties, hooking the elastic and dragging the scrap of lace slowly down your thighs. The heady, musky scent of your arousal was already filling the room, making Narumi's nostrils flare as his eyes tracked the slick trail left on your inner thighs.

"Fuck, please, ma’am, I need it...I need to taste that sweet pussy so bad, it's been too goddamned long since I've had a mouthful of you..." He was practically sobbing as he begged, a thick vein standing out prominently on his straining cock. His whole frame radiated such desperate, aching need that you couldn't help but oblige his heartfelt plea.

In a flash, you were straddling Narumi's shoulders, hovering just above his face and granting him an unrestricted view of the dripping core begging for his attention. His eyes blew wide, a broken moan slipping past his lips as he stared hungrily up at the dripping folds just inches from his face.

"Be a good boy for me, Gen," you crooned, reaching down to fist your fingers in his hair and drag his face between your spread thighs. "Show me just how good you can be for your Vice-Captain..."

With a broken, ragged sob, Narumi buried his face against your soaked core. The first touch of his searing tongue dragging along the length of your dripping slit nearly made you scream. As he lapped hungrily at the source of the delicious, addictive taste, his nose nudged your clit in a way that made your eyes cross.

"Fuck, that's it, Captain," you hissed, grinding shamelessly down on his face and feeling the tip of his nose pressing even harder against the swollen nub. "Such a good, obedient boy for me, don't stop, I'm gonna cum so fucking hard all over your filthy face—"

Narumi doubled his efforts at the praise, the obscene squelch of his tongue plunging into your dripping pussy joining the chorus of needy whimpers and wanton moans pouring from your parted lips. With a sharp tug at his hair, you wrenched him away from your drenched folds - leaving his lips and chin shining with your juices.

"So...so good," he rasped out, his entire face a mess of your arousal as he gazed up at you in rapt adoration. "Wanna keep eating this perfect pussy for you, wanna feel you gush all over my face until I'm drowning in you..."

The sight of his debauched expression made you ache with the need to see him covered in your slick, ruined entirely by your pleasure. So, without warning, you lowered your hips and sank down onto his face, grinding against his mouth and nose as he moaned rapturously against your folds.

"That's it, Gen...fuck yes, eat my pussy, take it all," you growled out, grinding in a slow, filthy circle until his lips were a blur of motion. Narumi's eyes rolled back, the sensation of your weight bearing down on his face coupled with the exquisite taste of your dripping folds driving him into an utter frenzy.

Within moments, the tight coil of pressure at the base of your spine snapped, and a wail tore loose from your throat as you squirted violently across Narumi's features. He sputtered and moaned beneath you, the obscene sounds muffled by the pulsing heat smothering his face as he lapped up everything you had to give.

Finally, as the aftershocks faded, you rose on shaky legs and flopped onto the mattress beside a dazed and thoroughly debauched Narumi. He blinked owlishly up at the ceiling, breathing heavily as the slick sheen of your cum dripped down his face in long rivulets.

"You...you look so fucking beautiful when you come all over me, babe," he slurred, still blissed out and half-dazed from the euphoria. "Fuck, I'm so hard right now...wanna fill that tight pussy up so bad..."

The words snapped you out of your orgasmic haze, and you quickly propped yourself up on an elbow to survey the state of his bound cock. What you saw nearly made you drool in arousal.

The poor, abused thing was a darker shade of purple than before, twitching violently against his trembling stomach. The fabric was utterly soaked in an ungodly amount of pre-cum, the darkened spot spreading to cover the whole length.

"So fucking desperate for me," you crooned, cupping his leaking, swollen cock in your palm and stroking just once, firmly. The strangled cry that ripped free from Narumi's throat was nearly inhuman, hips arching helplessly off the mattress as thick beads of precum continued to weep from the slit.

"Please, please, ma’am, I've been good, haven't I? Haven't I, baby? I followed every order, I ate your pussy like a good boy, so please let me fuck you, oh fuck—!" His frantic words broke off into a desperate keen as you thumbed the weeping slit, collecting the fresh surge of precum and spreading it along the purpled crown.

"So wet and needy, and yet you still can't keep this greedy dick under control," you mused, continuing to gently work the sensitive head and ignoring the frantic sobs pouring from his lips. "Maybe there's no hope for my naughty little Captain after all..."

Narumi's eyes widened in panic as your hand withdrew. He scrabbled upright, shaking his head frantically. "No, please, I swear, I can be good for you! Whatever you want, baby, anything, please don't leave me like this, I need you so goddamn bad—!"

His words abruptly shattered off into a wrecked moan as you finally, mercifully, tugged his soaked briefs down to reveal his flushed, aching cock. The swollen shaft bounced heavily against his stomach, the angry purple color standing out against his bronzed complexion.

"Poor thing," you murmured, tracing a feather-light fingertip up the throbbing vein that pulsed visibly beneath the surface. "Does it hurt, Captain?"

Narumi could only manage a pitiful, broken sob, eyes clenched shut as his entire body quivered with the force of holding himself back. His cock twitched violently, another heavy stream of pre-cum drooling from the swollen head.

"Yes, yes, ma’am, it hurts so bad, I need you so fuckin' much, please—" The words dissolved into a guttural howl as you took pity on his suffering and leaned down, swallowing him whole with one sinuous motion.

As you bobbed your head, taking the full length to the back of your throat, Narumi's hips stuttered violently. He threw his head back with a desperate cry, hands fisted in the sheets as his cock gave a violent pulse between your lips. Before you knew it, he was coming, thick jets of cum pouring straight down your throat.

The flood didn't abate. Narumi was so keyed up, so overstimulated and deprived of release, that his cock simply kept spurting, painting the back of your throat white and making you choke as you struggled to swallow it all down.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, his body went slack. You pulled back, a few last ropes of pearly spend streaking your lips and chin. The final remnants were still trickling from the swollen, purpled tip, pooling in a sticky puddle on his lower abdomen.

"Fuck, babe...you nearly just sucked the soul right outta me," Narumi groaned, slumping back against the pillows. He looked utterly spent and debauched, his chest heaving and features slack in the wake of the powerful orgasm.

His softened cock finally fell limp against his thigh, the tip still dribbling with the last few drops of cum. You smiled wickedly and reached out to wrap your hand around the sensitive flesh, feeling it twitch weakly in your grasp.

"I'll have to try a bit harder next time, then," you purred, earning a pained hiss as Narumi's spent cock valiantly tried to swell to half-mast.

"Fuckin' sadist," he groused, but the teasing words were devoid of any bite. In fact, Narumi looked so relaxed and content, sprawled across the sheets with his cock still twitching feebly in your grasp.

A wave of affection washed over you, and you couldn't help but lean down and capture his lips in a tender kiss. He responded eagerly, tangling his fingers in your hair as his tongue swept between your parted lips, seeking out the taste of his own seed.

After several breathless moments, you finally pulled back. Narumi gazed up at you with an unguarded adoration that made your heart flutter, a boyish smile curving his lips. His hand found yours, lacing your fingers together and giving a squeeze.

"God, I've missed you, honey." The earnestness of his tone made your cheeks flush hot. "You can't know how badly I needed that, just to spend time with you like this..."

"Oh, trust me, I have some inkling," you shot back wryly, nipping his bottom lip in playful reprimand. "Perhaps you'd like to demonstrate how grateful you are for my generosity?"

"Is that an order, ma’am?" Narumi asked with a lascivious wink, his gaze burning with something akin to reverence as he traced a line down your cheek with his calloused thumb. "Because if it is, I'm happy to serve."

You hummed thoughtfully, shifting to straddle his hips. Your lips trailed a scorching path along his throat, drawing a pleased groan from his parted lips. "Yes, I do believe that would be the proper course of action. Wouldn't you agree, Captain?"

Narumi's answering groan was the sweetest melody you'd ever heard.

[mochinek0]

Daminette December 2023: 13-Wednesday

Paris couldn't believe what they were seeing: Marinette Dupain-Cheng was in Gotham Academy, in uniform! They hadn't see her in four years! What shocked them even more was seeing her arguing with some guy and she wasn't backing down.

The students in Gotham Academy didn't pay them any attention. Everyone ignored the shouting and yelling; they just kept walking as if they didn't see or hear them.

"Shouldn't you get a teacher?" Nino asked a student passing by.

"For what?" asked the brunette.

The class pointed at the arguing students.

"Wat day is it?" the brunette questioned.

"Wednesday." Max answered, "Does it matter?"

"It's their 'Argue Day'." the Gotham student declared.

"Argue day?" Mylene asked, confused.

"Yeah." the student stated, with a shrug, "Like clockwork. Teachers learned to deal with it. They get competitive, too."

"My boyfriend wouldn't put up with this sort of thing." Lila declared, "He hates violence."

"Oh, who is you boyfriend?" the brunette questioned.

"Damian Wayne." Lila smiled.

The brunette started laughing and pointing at Lila.

"Dude?" the blonde nearby questioned.

"This bitch said Damian Wayne is her boyfriend! She also said he hated violence!" the brunette answered and continued to laugh.

The blonde joined, howling with laughter. The Paris class shifted uncomfortably.

"Listen here, Faker," the blonde spoke, "you're not dating our ice Prince. Not to mention Damian is one of the most violent Waynes to roam these halls."

Lila sniffled, "He just doesn't want the media to know. I'm not lying."

"Well, that's lie number two." the brunette counted, "Damian doesn't care about the media. They gave him the title 'Ice Prince'."

"Do you know how many reporters have broken their arms, hands, or fingers trying to get a scoop from him?" the blonde questioned.

"You the ones lying!" Aly shouted, "Lila said he was kind and helpful Damian Wayne does charity work with her, for the environment!"

"It's not that hard to look up." the blonde scoffed, :About every other weekend, he's in the park casually talking to Poison Ivy, Harley Quinn, and playign with their hyenas as they plan 'How to green up Gotham'."

Lila paled hearing how he associated with rogues. That hadn't been what she expected.

"Supposedly, his mother is just as bad as they are." the brunette declared, "If not worse."

Lila gulped, trying to figure out how to keep her classmates under her control as her lie began to unravel.

"If anything, it sound like you googled 'rich kid+my age in Gotham' and Damian Wayne popped up first." the blonde responded.

"How can you say that about our friend?" Kim demanded.

The boys pointed to Marinette and the boy arguing still.

"That is Damian Wayne." the brunette answered, "By tomorrow, they'll be back to cuddling and kissing, like they have been for the past three years."

"They basically chose one day a week to let their frustrations out on each other." the blonde spoke, "It just happens to be on Wednesday."

The Parisians turned to Lila for an answer.

"I-I'm sure that's not it." Lila declared in a panic.

"Oh, really?" questioned the blonde boy, "Yo, Mari! How many times did Damian drug your coffee and drag you to bed, last week?"

"Four!" she shouted, still glaring at him.

Damian scoffed, "It was three."

"Liar!" Marinette screamed.

The class watched on in confusion.

"Damian, how many times did Mari make you new clothes last month?" the brunette asked.

"Ten!" Damian exclaimed in frustration.

Marinette scoffed, "Like you don't complain about those 'monkey suits' and how uncomfortable they are."

"I didn't ask you to go out of you way, Angel, and make me those things!" Damian rebutted.

"Oh, so now my designs are things?" Mari declared, "I just wanted you to be comfortable!"

"I'm fine!" the young Wayne sighed, "You need to sleep!"

"How long did she stay up?" the blonde questioned.

"She didn't sleep." Damian growled.

Marinette threw her hands up before resting them on her hips, "I slept on the drive over. I drank Tim's coffee. It usually has at least five espressos. Not the most I've had."

"What?" Damian shouted.

"Ah, so that's the reason this time." the brunette spoke.

"Sorry, Liar, but no one in Gotham will believe that you are anything to Gotham's Ice Prince when there are pictures being posted, like this, by his very own brothers." the blonde declared.

He turned his phone around to see Marinette and Damian dressed in pajamas and curled up in bed together.

"Everyone in Gotham Academy knows they live together at Wayne Manor." he continued, "Not to mention, the moment someone tries to touch her or get in her personal space, he threatens to kill them."

"He had five knives taken away this month." the brunette stated.

"Actually, it was eight." the blonde commented.

"Oh, when did I miss those?" the brunette questioned.

"You were sick for a week." the blonde answered.

"Gotha." the brunette spoke, "So, good luck and welcome to Gotham."

"Have a good Wednesday." the blonde spoke as they walked away.

Marinette yawned, "Why am I yawning? I drank Tim's coffee."

"Todd switched his coffee with decaf." Damian smiled, "You just happened to drink it, instead."

"No." she whined, "You did this on purpose!"

"I did not force you to drink Drake's coffee not did I force you to stay up all night." he answered, "If anything, Todd is upset that you ruined his prank."

"But-" Mari yawned again.

Damian smirked and picked her into his arms, "We are going home and you are going to bed."

"School." Marinette replied.

"I already messaged the teachers on the ride over that e would be missing the next two days." the young Wayne answered, "I've also paid Todd $100 for messing up his plan. In exchange, he will bring you lunch and dinner."

Marinette didn't respond and curled up in his arms. Damian just walked out of the school.

"Okay!" someone shouted, "Who had them making up under fifteen minutes?"

"Awww, man!"

"I could have sworn they would argue longer today."

"Didn't expect her to not sleep."

"Or have decaf."

"If she had just had that coffee."

"How much did you lose?"

"$20."

"Lucky; $30."

"50."

Paris watched on as money was exchanged. Marinette and Damian Wayne's couple argument had gotten so common that people were gambling on it. They started to turn to Lila, who obviously had no idea how to explain what had just happened.

"So, you really were a liar." Nathaniel whispered, "Marinette was right, all along."

"I don't think we'll get to apologize to Marinette," Rose sniffled, "But she looks happy."

"Can't say you will be by the end of this trip, Lila." Alix sneered.

Lila was out of her element as Gotham had quickly spread her lie about dating Damian. No one believed her and if she said anything, they would just laugh at her. Not to metion her own classmates were now ignoring her. This hadn't been what she had planned; it was just another Wednesday. Nothing special about it.

TAGLIST: @maribat-calendar-events@animeweebgirl@a-star-with-a-human-name@meme991001@vixen-uchiha@abrx2002@alysrose-starchild@fandom-trapped-03@dood-space@moonlightstar64@saltymiraculer@marveldcedits20@09shell-sea09@icerosecrystal@animegirlweeb@insane-fangirl-of-everything@blueblossombliss@nickristus-dreamer@megawhitleycalderonpaganus@missmadwoman@meira-3919@princessdaisysolosyourfaves@blep-23@fangirlingfanatic@darkhinauniverse@ravenr22@im-a-satanic-ritual@ravennm84@bianca-hooks123@a-slytherinish-gryffindor@starling218

[sylusjinwoon]

{ 149 }

wingmen.

megumi fushiguro x fem.reader

no curses | high school au

warnings: slight crack, but mostly fluff.

dedicated to @xbarrjallenx

to my beloved girl,

you are all that i can think of. from your bright eyes, to the way your hair seems to shine from beneath the sunlight-

you drive me crazy.

i am madly in love with you.

please say that you’ll be mine someday?

-yours truly,

your admirer.

{ … }

your lips were parted with absolute shock in response to reading the love letter that was left within your locker. your mind was in a haze as you kept reading the neat script over and over again.

in fact, you were still in shock because you didn’t think that something so sweet could even happen to you!

you recall waking up this morning feeling stressed and nervous about your upcoming trigonometry exam. even with your best friend’s meticulous and detailed notes, you ended up goofing off with nobara and yuji and didn't do much studying (much to megumi's chagrin!)

you had plans of going over your notes with megumi during homeroom, but after receiving such a sweet love letter, your desires to study went down the drain. your eyes kept trailing over each written word, but couldn't seem to recognize the style of writing at all.

as your fingertips trace at the written words, you suddenly had a epiphany-

perhaps your friends could help you figure out just who this secret admirer was!

with your eye practically glimmering with hope, you slam your locker shut before making a mad dash to your classroom, almost too eager to see megumi, yuji, and nobara again.

{ ... }

megumi was simply looking over his notes when he sees you bursting into the classroom. your features appear flustered, and he could see the way your strands of hair fell across your face.

he feels his lips twitch in a slight smile, but successfully fights back those happy emotions because it just wasn't in his style to be anything but cool, calm, and collected while in the presence of his friends-

(even if he did have the tiniest crush on you-)

but he digresses.

while yuji and nobara were talking about some new music video that was dropped by their favorite band, you take quick strides to them while holding up what looked like a letter from within your hands.

"guys look! someone sent me a love letter!"

upon hearing your outburst, yuji and nobara stopped talking about the new music release and turn their attention to you.

"whoa! that's so cool! do you know who wrote it?"

"this is actually sooooo sweet!"

megumi frowns upon hearing how overly happy and excited yuji and nobara were, which was what made the warning bells go off within his head. standing from his seat, he closes his notebook and goes to where you were all huddled together.

megumi narrows his emerald green gaze down at nobara, seeing a suspiciously familiar piece of stationary. he was itching to see just what this letter was all about when he snatches it away from nobara's hands.

"h-hey! i was still reading that!"

but he ignores nobara's protests, scanning through each written word as his forehead began to pulse with annoyance.

this was nobara's handwriting when she actually tried to write neatly!

just what were these clowns up to?

"come with me." megumi returns the letter to you and picks up yuji and nobara by the back of their uniforms, leaving you alone as you went back to staring dreamily at your love letter.

hearing both of his friends laughing while dragging them out into the hallways was more than enough proof that they had done something. only when he knew he was away from you did he finally begin speaking.

"what the hell are you guys up to?" megumi hisses at them both, feeling the annoyance grow when they casually look away from him. "i know that letter was written by you, nobara. so spill, what's going on?"

"i'm just trying to be your wingman." she tells him with a wink, all while smirking at him. "because yuji and i both know that you don't have the balls to tell her yourself."

his face began to turn hotter in response, nearly being choked with embarrassment as he pointed an accusing finger at her, "it's none of your business! if i want to confess to her, then i'll do it on my own terms!"

"yeah, surrre, you've been saying that since the end of our middle school year... and we're in our second year of high school now." yuji reminds megumi with a snicker.

"haha, yeah, yuji knows what's up! so that's why, we're gonna keep sending your beloved letters until you actually confess!"

"no, you won't-"

nobara then flashes him a sly smile, "did you not see how happy she looked after receiving that letter? she would be utterly devastated if we stopped... or maybe... even more hurt if you don't write the letters yourself."

megumi freezes, thinking back on to the joy that paints your features and how excited you were to have such a letter. in fact, seeing your sweet smile was enough to make his heart clench in response...

perhaps the reason why he was so angry and annoyed was because his friends had managed to make you smile first-

not him.

megumi moves away from them with a click of his tongue, shoving a hand within the pocket of his pants, "fine. you got me. just... don't send her anymore letters, okay? i'll come clean to her soon."

while megumi kept his back turned, he couldn't help but smirk when he hears yuji and nobara high-fiving each other, knowing that their plan was a success.

{ ... }

at the end of the school day, (when you were sure you, yuji, and nobara had failed that trig exam), you drag your feet across the linoleum floors of your school, switching out your slippers with your actual shoes when you saw a folded note fall out of your shoe cubby.

your eyes go wide when you received yet another letter, but this time, it wasn't written on a cute stationary, or even placed in an envelope.

instead, it was a folded piece of what looked like a torn page from a notebook. feeling intrigued, you unfold the note as it read.

hey, i wanted to apologize to you, since the letter you received this morning wasn't from me-

but it was written on my behalf.

those words were really cheesy, and there's no way in hell i'd ever say such things-

but that doesn't mean that my heart doesn't race for you;

it doesn't mean that i don't find you beautiful, or think about you all the time.

if you want to know who i really am, come meet me at the school's rooftop.

i'll be waiting.

-your admirer

your heart begins to race, because this handwriting was one that you actually recognized-

for you had seen such neat writing while copying and reading over a certain sea urchin head's notes.

with your heart pounding from within the confines of your chest, you immediately push your legs forward, allowing your footsteps to echo across the floors. you ignore the burning felt against your feet as you saw the door leading to the rooftop, pushing it open with the entirety of your weight.

your chest heaves with each breath that escapes from your parted lips, eyes now narrowing with a fondness when you see megumi standing several feet away from you.

his expression was shy, with his hand running across his hair as he waits for you. allowing the door to shut from behind you, you step closer to megumi and smile up at him. you don't say a word, allowing him to speak first. your eyes meet with his tranquil gaze, basking in his sighs when he says.

"nobara was meddling again... she was the one who wrote that note and put it in your locker."

you let his admission soak in before nodding, "...and...what prompted her to do such a thing?"

megumi remains silent for several seconds before admitting, "it was because of my own hesitance."

he frames at your face with his two hands then, making your face heat up in response as you were forced to look up at him. with eyes filled with adoration for you, and you feel megumi press the pad of his thumb against your bottom lip before telling you, "but, i won't hesitate anymore..."

leaning closer to you, you allow your eyes to shut in response when his lips finally met with yours in a kiss that you had been waiting for since the moment you first laid eyes on him...

a.n. - ahhh finally wrote another story for the best boy! i had a lot of fun writing this story, even if it's feels like it's been forever since i wrote for megumi 🥹 i hope you readers still enjoy it!

all stories are written by rei; reposts, translations, and plagiarism are not allowed.

[screaminglygay]

KINKTOBER (day 4)

pairing: yelena belova x fem!reader - lingerie

summary: yelena is a serial killer in uniform, and that turns you on. you turn her on by wearing her favorite lingerie.

warning: yelena being a serial killer so.., mentions of murder, teasing, some dirty talk

word count: 1k

an: i´m on my knees for yelena, 25/8 or something like that

The sound of Yelena zipping up her tactical uniform pulls your focus away from the TV. You glance over to see her adjusting the straps, her movements smooth and precise. The dark uniform clings to her frame, accentuating her strong, toned physique, and it's impossible to ignore the confidence she carries. She´s going to work.

She catches you staring in the mirror, and a smirk spreads across her face. “Like what you see, detka?” Her voice is dripping with playful arrogance, knowing full well the effect her uniform has on you.

“You look good,” you murmur, biting your lip as you admire the outfit.

Yelena in her killer mode does things to you, things that you can't quite explain. The combination of her dangerous edge and casual confidence sends heat spiraling through your chest.

She turns around, her eyes glinting with amusement. “Good? Just good? I’m hurt.” She places a hand dramatically over her chest but quickly drops it, her smirk only growing wider. “I’m off to hang out with someone, you know… gotta make a lasting impression.”

You know exactly what she means by that. Another target, another "job." And you should probably be more concerned, but the way she looks right now? It’s hard to think about anything other than how hot she looks in that uniform.

“Make it quick,” you tease, your eyes lingering on her. “I get lonely when you're gone.” Your voice drops just a little, enough to make your meaning clear.

Yelena quirks an eyebrow, clearly enjoying your reaction. She walks over to you, her boots heavy against the floor. When she reaches you, she grabs your chin between her fingers, leaning down until her lips are just a breath away from yours.

“Lonely, huh?” she purrs, her voice low. “Don’t worry, dorogaya, I’ll be quick. Just gotta take out the trash first.” She presses a brief but heated kiss to your lips, her smirk evident even as she pulls away. “Try not to miss me too much.”

Before you can respond, she grabs her keys and heads for the door. You watch her go, admiring the way her hips moves just perfectly. As the door clicks shut behind her, an idea sparks in your mind—a surprise she won’t see coming.

By the time Yelena returns, the apartment is dark, only the soft glow of the bedside lamp is visible. She steps inside, perfectly composed, as if she hadn’t just taken someone’s life. Not a hair out of place, her uniform pristine. No one would ever suspect what she's capable of, but you know better.

She closes the door behind her, her sharp eyes quickly scanning the room. The moment she sees you, her lips twist into a smirk. “Oh-ho, what’s this?” she drawls, her voice carrying a note of amusement as her gaze roams over you, sprawled across the bed in her favorite lingerie. The black lace leaves little to the imagination, and the way her eyes darken as she takes you in sends a thrill down your spine.

“You like?” you ask, shifting slightly under her gaze, feeling the heat of her stare. You know you’ve caught her attention now.

“Like?” she scoffs, tossing her keys onto the dresser. “Kotenok, I love it. This is a very pretty way to come home after dealing with a… tough client.” The grin on her face tells you exactly how "tough" that client was.

She steps closer, her boots heavy on the floor, each step deliberate. “You know,” she continues, her voice teasing as she stands at the edge of the bed, looking down at you. “I should go out and kill people more often if this is the kind of welcome I get.”

You laugh, but it’s cut short when she reaches out, her fingers brushing against the lace of your lingerie. Her touch is light, but it’s enough to send a shiver through you.

“You wore my favorite,” she comments, her eyes locked on yours as she traces a path up your thigh. The teasing smirk on her lips never falters. “Trying to butter me up, huh?”

“Maybe,” you reply, trying to keep your voice steady under her gaze. But Yelena knows exactly what she’s doing, and you can feel your confidence wavering as her fingers trail lazily along your skin.

“How thoughtful of you,” she murmurs, leaning in closer. Her breath is warm against your skin as she whispers, “But I think you’re the one who’s going to be begging for attention, kotenok.”

You swallow hard, your bravado slipping under her intense gaze. She tilts her head slightly, her smirk widening when she notices how your breath hitches.

“Aw, look at you,” she purrs, her tone a mixture of affection and amusement. “All this effort to look pretty for me, and now you’re nervous?” Her fingers brush along the lace at your waist, her touch light and teasing. “What happened to all that confidence earlier, hm?”

Your mouth opens, but no words come out. Yelena’s eyes glint with mischief as she leans down, her lips just inches from yours.

“That’s what I thought,” she whispers, her lips brushing against your skin. “I love when you try so hard for me. But let’s be honest… I like you even more when you can’t handle it.”

You shiver, feeling the weight of her words settle over you. Yelena’s hand lingers on your thigh, her touch sending heat through your body as her smirk deepens.

“Now,” she says, her voice low and playful, “why don’t you let me show you what happens when you look this good for me?”

Thank you for reading!!:)

[twst-drabbles]

Malleus 18

Summary: You show Malleus your form, in exchange for being able to explore his. An equal exchange. You are a danger and a tempter in turn. Malleus could never hate you, no matter how much his body wished for him to run from you.

(I had a lot of fun with this. Please enjoy, my audience!!)

Whenever Malleus looks at you, he always feels as though he's looking at the empty part of the night sky.

You occupy space, and in his vision, you color the world as anyone else does. But when he recalls those moments, when he's just about to go to sleep and dream of older days, Malleus would always remember you, your presence, and the way your very being just seemed to sap the color away.

Perhaps there was something wrong with him, because, as he so heard from wayward whispers and Lilia himself, there wasn't a spark of magic in you. There was nothing in you that would affect his memory. Maybe it was simple boredom or some illness affecting him?

…the feeling didn't fade. He finally met you in the middle of the night, outside a dorm he thought long abandoned.

He felt you more than he saw you. When he went to that dorm, he felt that comforting silence, then it was… well, not ripped away but unveiled? As though one is gently taking off a table cloth to put away. It took some time for Malleus to figure it out to be your eyes. Your attention.

Did you know that people have this odd habit of being quieter at night? They whisper in the dark, lower their voices as though not wanting to disturb anyone, even though there is no one near. People, regardless of their origins, are the slight touch different at night, and Malleus is no exception. At night, he looks not towards people, but towards the wind, to the night sky above, and to the ruins to give him that solitary comfort that's simply deeper at night than during the day.

When he met you, your voice was clear. You were still in your uniform, and there wasn't a hint of grogginess that comes with staying up this late. You didn't look to ground to keep track of your steps despite all lack of light. You walked to him, not with confidence but with a casual gait. Almost lackadaisical, as though there was nothing in the world that can bring you harm, other than death by sheer boredom.

But when he talked to you, exchanged greetings with you with all the manners befitting of him, you had felt human. Before your first words, the strangeness of you almost made Malleus forget himself, he very nearly thought you to be another fae. All his instincts point to you being something other than human, but fae you were certainly not.

And so he had said, What are you? Because, by all means, you appear to me as nothing more than a human being. But, that's not quite correct, is it?

You are, and you aren't. But, if you need a definitive answer, then the answer is ultimately yes, I'm human. At least, for now.

Then, as though some missing piece finally slotted itself into place, Malleus felt small. The moon cast you a normal shadow, but something in Malleus told him that this was wrong. That there should be more, but there wasn't. You wouldn't elaborate further, and he wouldn't give out his name.

As such, he parted.

When he walked away, he couldn't find that lonely comfort again. Sleep did not come to him that night. No matter how he adjusted his curtains, the weight of your gaze simply didn't fade.

There was fear and there was reverence when people would whisper your name. It was a strange feeling for Malleus, certainly. To think that he would find you at the center of it all, when it would normally be him. Strange caution in his gut aside, Malleus never thought your reputation would elevate itself to something infamous within this college.

Oh course, what choice did he have other than to bring it up? A wondrous topic to discuss, no? And besides, while there was this itch settling in the back of his head, it was easy enough to ignore. After all, you are a new… companion. Not quite friend, but companion.

It seems you have many of these students on edge. Mind telling me your tales? If you have any to share, that is.

There wasn't a twitch to your face, your smile ever serene, ever stable. A rarely changing thing.

Should I tell you, or should I show you?

Oh my.

Perhaps it was simply the secret veil of night, or the weight of which you place in your tone, but there was a slight thrill that went up the back of his neck. It made his scalp tingle, even.

But, at the time, he said no. A part of him wasn't quite ready yet. And, quite frankly, he didn't wish to set himself up for disappointment. But, he will admit…

There was an overblot that I took care of. It seemed I scared quite the number of people. I save them, and I damned them in turn.

Your vagueness left him wanting more. But there is this unspoken deal you both have. So long as he refuses to give out his identity, you, in turn, will only give the barest of details. He cannot make demands of you, so long as this stands.

And so all he can do is dream and wait for the next night to come.

I find comfort in you, you know?

Another night, another series of topics, with mostly Malleus recounting a particular set of ruins with the most exquisite set of gargoyles he's ever seen. Highly likely enchanted by someone to weather the natural forces of nature. How could he not talk about the clear love put into them?

Words clogged his throat. Comfort. How… warm, that tone of yours was. How fond that smile of yours was. The constant weight of your gaze turned just the slightest bit lighter.

There was only a glimpse.

A cold had broke past the natural protections of his clothing and poisonous magic, and settled deep inside his marrow. His blood rushed through his body too loudly, and the colors surrounded his view dimmed, warped, and ripped.

There was the sound of broken glass, a hiss that shot through his head and left behind a horrid headache.

Malleus pushed on, because if nothing else, his magic is more than enough to take care of anything. It was his crown, his birthright.

There was only a glimpse, and that was enough for his vision to be cut in half. Night, from a pinprick, cut out part of your back. It followed a jagged path, expanding fast past the limits of your human body, consuming the space around you as though fungus upon wet wood.

It didn't matter that it was air, all it wanted to do was consume. Consume the air, consume your body, consume the sky, and consume the mirrors.

The sounds around him rushed to you, as though unable to resist your pull, leaving behind only the mess of static in his ears.

There was only you, pulsing in the vague shape of a human being, all in swirling colors, near nauseating colors.

Malleus blinked, and all was well. Everything had settled. The students slowly got up from the floor, nursing injuries and headaches alike, but happy to be alive. And you… were untouched. Clothes not so much as wrinkled.

And when it was over, when the conversations upon the stage of VDC had settled down, Malleus turned to you and said.

Show me. When night comes for us once more, show me.

You smiled and laughed.

Of course, Malleus Draconia.

"Come on," you chuckled against his skin, breathe brushing against the little hairs on his neck, standing them on end, "aren't you supposed to be royalty? Isn't patience something you ought to have?"

"Even you--" Malleus cut off with a hiss when you wrapped your tendrils tighter around the base of his tail, lovingly stroking the side scales with your palms. Firm, your tendrils are firm as they slide and take in every little crevice in his scales. Firm, and like fluid at the same time without leaving behind residue. "Even you have to understand that I have limits. Must I keep my eyes closed?"

Your touch practically sparks his skin, and his every instinct is warning him to open his eyes and spot the danger. The stiffness in his spine tells him he's about to fall and land on the ground. All while swimming in the vast muteness of his suppressed magic.

We can't have any accidents, now can we?

"You hear that fuzziness in your ears?" you traced his neck as white noise buzzed, both far away, yet blanketing him as though a bubble, "The way I sound as though I exist in all spaces, and the way I speak as though I'm coming from your heart? Don't open your eyes, Malleus. Otherwise, you might dissolve into me."

Dissolve, in the same way your back drew in all those colors, and mixed it into yourself, became a part of yourself for a small moment. Malleus wishes to see it, even though his body broke out in a sweat at what might happen.

"Is that," he swallowed, "such a horrible thing? Didn't you say you would show me?"

"Does showing mean you have to witness with your eyes?" A tendril wrapped over his ankle and slipped through the leg opening. You caressed the back of his knee, and Malleus's fingers broke through the wood of the wall behind him. "Careful there. I'm showing you, through all your other senses other than sight."

"Other senses?" Malleus managed to breathe out, "then… what of taste?"

You overwhelm his touch with electric touches, fill his smell with the scent of you, and play his hearing. What of taste? Will he regret this? Well, it doesn't matter. Malleus is curious and he has no intention of curbing it.

"Oh, aren't you a sweetheart?" Your voice was concentrated to a single point, right over his left ear. "Well then, lift your head up, dear prince."

There was an ever-shifting noise beneath the static, like flesh constantly adjusting itself, like blood flowing and popping it's large bubbles.

"How bold of you, making demands of me like this, knowing full well who I am." There was no hatred in his tone, only heated amusement. Malleus lifted his chin, and he almost curled into himself when you pressed your lips against his. You were gentle, almost painfully so as though you were guiding him. You had almost your entire being tied up around him, and you're kissing him as though he's nothing more than faint-hearted fae.

And that makes his fingers curl deeper into the wall of your dorm.

"How," that was close, Malleus's voice almost pitched. How unbecoming of someone such as him, "How cruel of you, to kiss me as though I'm fragile glass."

"Because I know that would affect you most. You know how I am." You chuckled against his lips, stroking his neck in such a way he had no choice but to relax back into them. "Again?" you asked.

He licked his dry lips and answered, "Again. This small taste isn't enough."

"Alright, be careful not to destroy my wall, alright?" you swiped a thumb over his lips, practically hearing the widening smile on your face.

"I'll be more care--" You silence him with the blissful magic of a kiss, tenderly moving against him, coaxing him to relax into a shivering pile of scales. You pulled back and Malleus was ashamed in how desperate he was when he chased after you. "Wait--"

You tilted his chin and stole his breathe once again, fingers slipping past his collar, tendrils wrapping up higher and higher until they're poking at the scales on his thighs. You trailed a hand over his shoulder, down his arm, and guided his fingers to lock with your own.

"Is this better?" You asked, pulling away from his surely reddened lips.

"Y-yes." Malleus tightly clung to your fingers.

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

I have a question, so for most of the day to day things that the students do, they where some from of uniform for, wether it be their normal school one, the PE one or their dorm clothes they wear (that still are basically uniforms) or the ceremonial robes so my question is, are they allowed to at all wear what they want during any time at school? Because even in events such as the masquerade or the savanna one we had not long ago (bare with me I am bad at remembering names) that happen outside of school, they are commonly seeing wearing their uniform or at the very least their PE kits (that changes if the event gives them different clothing such as the outfits for the masquerade). The one time I can kind of remember the students being allowed to kind of wear what they want is during the event with stitch (again I can't remember the name). If their are times they wear non school can you perhaps give a list or something of what they wear? Or perhaps times they mention their style or what the normally wear?

Sorry if my English is terrible it is not my first language and spelling and grammar over all aren't my strong suit. And sorry for the ramble, feel free to ignore it as I know this is kind of stupid.

Have a good day/night and rest well

While the game doesn’t outright state when the students must wear their school uniforms, we can probably guess based on irl British boarding schools (for which NRC is modeled after). In the UK, the general policy is that students must wear their uniforms during ALL school hours and breaks. This typically ranges from ~8 or 8 am to 5 pm every week day. If students leave campus on a trip or in some capacity to represent the school (ie inter-school events, conferences, etc.), they are also expected to wear their uniforms. After school and on the weekends, students are allowed to dress casually or however they like.

As for why the students are almost always depicted in one kind of uniform, part of it is limited assets. It’s a lot of time and effort to give everyone different outfits all the time (most anime and manga, even the ones that don’t take place in a school setting, have one “standard” outfit for this reason). It’s easier to design the outfit(s) they’ll be seen in for most of the time and have that become the iconic look. This is, of course, excluding special occasions or promotions, limited time merch, etc.

The in-game reason often provided for why the boys largely wear a NRC uniform of some kind is because of association with the school. Night Raven College is extremely prestigious, so they must be mindful of how they present themselves, especially to the public and in the presence of other schools. Their uniforms are seen as cool, elite, and emblematic of NRC the institution, so this is why students wear them not only at special occasions (opening ceremonies, unbirthday parties, etc.) but also in front-facing events (sporting matches, cultural festivals, Halloween; the campus is open to the public). They wear their school uniforms to Noble Bell College as representatives for NRC. Kalim and Floyd wear their robes when entertaining guests from outside NRC in Kalim’s Ceremonial Robes vignettes. Vil also makes the VDC/SDC squad wear their school uniforms as their outfits for the performance, citing that it’s a symbol of their youth as well as them being the NRC team. Azul states that the ceremonial robes are “popular with the ladies” in Ruggie’s Ceremonial Robes vignettes. Even Fellow, who had ill intent toward the NRC students, was only able to pin them as NRC students in the first place because of their iconic uniform. The dorm leaders are allowed to alter their dorm uniforms as they like, allowing them to stand out as the “boss” of their respective dorms. There is a lot of perceived power and status that comes with wearing NRC clothing—and it’s also the responsibility of those wearing those clothes to make NRC look good. I think Deuce states it the best in a Ceremonial Robes voice line: “These robes are the face of Night Raven College. They're covered with intricate embroidery to make it clear that we stand above other schools.”

A minor thing I’d like to tack on is that the NRC uniforms, especially the dorm uniforms, are enchanted with magic that makes them more durable and combat-ready than your average clothes. This means there is actual practicality and utility behind always wearing the uniforms, especially if you’re like… taking a course that’s intense with its magical workload. I’d also like to think that after spending what is basically a third of your day in the same clothes (which are also functional), some students may be too tired to change into something else so they instead choose to stay in their current uniform. Students in clubs are already obligated to change into other uniforms (like sports team members do) so maybe they’d get too tired to swap out into casual wear.

A lot of the characters don’t talk about personal fashion at length. However, here is a compilation of my own impressions of the prominent NRC characters’ takes on fashion and personal grooming (based on canon information). Please note that this can change based on new content that comes out. For example, the new Relaxing in Room series of cards may contain more details about personal grooming and dress.

Riddle

Riddle thinks outfits that are casual or show too much skin are outrageous. (He dislikes his beachwear for these reasons.)

In book 1, he helps Yuu fix their tie. He also praises his own dorm members when they wear their uniforms correctly or are in formal attire. This implies he has an eye for detail and prefers for uniforms, especially when worn properly.

He states that he values what is inside more than looks.

Riddle describes his Suitor Suit as being similar to what he would wear for the parties he attended with his family. He is therefore no stranger to very formal looks.

His Dorm Uniform heels are high to emulate the Queen of Hearts; however, Riddle also implies he wishes to be taller, which is another reason he wears high heels.

My impression: Riddle honestly is probably used to wearing whatever his mom makes him wear. If he doesn’t have her guidance, then he’ll default to sets of clothes/uniforms or very formal attire. Likely also a stickler for stray hairs, dust, loose threads, etc. Very preppy. Would probably wear high heels to augment his height.

Trey

He has had bad eyesight since elementary school so he has worn glasses since. In fact, Trey collects frames (you can see them in his room) and has tried many styles, as well as considered contacts. However, he looks more intimidating without glasses and in half-rim glasses (according to his mom and younger sister), so he foregoes those options now.

Trey says he gets complimented the most when he wears rounded Wellington or oval frames. Quirkier cat-eye or rimless frames don’t go over as well.

He finds casual and "lived-in" looks like his Outdoor Wear comfortable. However, he also says he would prefer more muted colors.

He apologizes for not buttoning up his vest, but it seems he prefers it that way.

Trey doesn’t like being the center of attention. If in a group, he would rather not be wearing something that makes him stick out like a sore thumb.

He likes hats, so he has a few. The one he wears in his Dorm Uniform was custom made to match Heartslabyul.

Draws on his card suit with makeup.

My impression: Like Trey says, he likes casual fashion and muted colors. Whatever will not attract attention to him and allow him to keep his peace. He seems to be really into being experimental with his looks when it comes to glasses though. Likely would also wear a hat.

Cater

Cater seems to like wearing matching clothes. He has, for example, matching T-shirts with his Light/Pop Music Club bandmates.

He enjoys colorful and flashy fits like what he wears for his club.

Anything ‘cammable!! Cater gushes a lot about aesthetically pleasing clothes, including his costume for Halloween and other alternate looks like the Yasmina Silk and Beans Camo.

He has considered going for a different hair style but has trouble committing to one. Cater says if you change your hair, it also changes your image.

Keeps up with the latest trends.

Draws on his card suit with makeup.

My impression: Cater has an eye for what looks good and will grab attention on social media. He also goes for outfits that signify group unity (which might tie back to the “twinning” trend and/or his desire to belong somewhere). However, although Cater makes these claims it also seems he is interested in reinventing himself, as indicated in his discussion of changing his hair.

Ace

He likes luxury and name-brand fashions but can’t always afford it.

Ace likes to look at shoe magazines with Floyd.

He has been gifted fancy outfits and accessories before, such as luxury sunglasses for his birthday from Vil. Ace vows to take good care of these, but also tends to want to show them off to his friends.

Ace uses a little bit of wax to do his hair in the mornings.

He remarks that some outfits don’t have sleeves, which makes it hard to conceal things for magic tricks. Still, he is confident that he doesn’t always need sleeves to pull off his stunts successfully.

He doesn’t like outfits that are all one color, especially white. Those can be boring!

He likes to pick accessories or shoes of similar colors as his top. This gives his look the appearance of being well-coordinated.

He buys new clothes from the Foothill Town.

Ace is usually very skilled at imitation, but he notes that even he has a hard time figuring out how much makeup to use. He once tried to follow a tutorial video and overdrew his brows.

Draws on his card suit with makeup.

My impression: Bro has the fashion sense of the average teenage boy. He covets name-brand and high-end items that will make him seem cool to his peers and is confident that he can wear these well.

Deuce

Deuce normally tries to present as an honors student; this means wearing his clothes properly, wearing his hair neat and natural, etc.

Formal clothes like his Dorm Uniform make him nervous since he's not used to wearing such things.

He doesn’t seem to have a strong aesthetic sense and just goes with whatever he thinks is most cool. For example, he thinks flaming skulls would be a great magical wheel/blastcycle decal. He also thinks masks are cool because they remind him of superheroes.

He has issues with clothes that are too long, like his Starsending Robes. While Deuce doesn’t take issue with the look of tbe clothes, he does find it hard to move in them, as he is always stumbling over the fabrics.

Deuce is embarrassed by cute, fluffy, rabbit-themed clothes. This is because he used to dress this way as a kid and wants to be taken more seriously now that he’s older.

Draws on his card suit with makeup.

My impression: Boy is trying his best, but his best isn’t much in way of fashion. He tries to come off as cool, but his idea of what’s “cool” may not always be the most appealing to the eye. Not a fashion disaster or anytime though; I think he just… for as much as he tries to be preppy, his true style is more wild and tough. Doesn't feel entirely comfortable in formal wear.

Leona

He seems to like his clothes worn loosely and in his own way; for example, the buttons are undone in his School Uniform and his armband is worn like a belt.

Many of his looks involve low cut tops or unbuttoned tops to reveal… let’s say more than it probably should 😭

Leona says that people back home took issue with his sense of fashion.

Beaded bangles are a specialty of his home country; Leona himself wears quite a few bracelets.

Leona complains about clothes that take forever to put on and take off. He also hates outfits that are heavy and have too many decorations.

When his braids fall out of place or get loose, he’s too lazy to redo them and commands others to fix it for him.

He doesn’t care for compliments about his looks.

Leona claims be only buys what “catches his eye”; price is not an issue. He says that any clothes are fine as long as they look good on him and fit.

In the manga, Leona sleeps shirtless. We also see that he handles his clothes carelessly and slings them all over his room.

He recognizes the Fairy Gala Couture as being tasteful, but just not to his style.

He appreciates extravagant and traditional clothes from his home country. In fact, Leona cites his outfit as being the only good part of going home for Catch the Tail/Bead Brawl.

Leona sometimes has Ruggie shop for clothing for him. This is the case for his Outdoor Wear.

We have to account for his ears + tail in regards to fashion. He also has a sensitive nose, so that’s a consideration for perfumes.

My impression: Leona is able to tell what does and doesn’t look good, but he usually doesn’t like to make the effort to dress up himself. He has a very “wild” sense of style, meaning loose fits and showing off… assets… and doesn’t like overly complicated or impractical outfits. Leona appears to like luxurious looks, as he buys what “catches his eye” and praises his own King’s Garb.

Ruggie

Ruggie will generally go with anything he gets his hands on, even hand-me-downs that are too big for him. This is the case for his Dorm Uniform, which is one of Leona’s.

If he thinks he can sell it later for cash, he'll pick the most extravagant clothes and accessories he can. He doesn't like to wear fancy clothes himself though; he doesn't feel comfortable in them.

He prefers for his outfits to have fewer buttons, as they're a hassle to deal with.

Ruggie likes shorts, which are light and comfy. He values mobility in his outfits, which is why he also says he likes casual clothes.

Not a fan of pure white clothes, as they get dirty easily. Ruggie says he can't eat in them.

He praises his Dorm Uniform for being easy to move in and not too fancy. Ruggie calls it "right up [his] alley".

We have to account for his ears + tail in regards to fashion. He also has a sensitive nose, so that’s a consideration for perfumes.

My impression: Ruggie has very practical tastes, though he generally isn’t picky and will accept clothes as long as he’s getting them for free and they fit him. He prefers casual clothes that allow for mobility, aren't too fancy, and are easy to slip into, similar to his Dorm Uniform.

Jack

He says he's not into highly glamourous fashion.

When instructed to wear something "neat and tidy", Jack's immediate thought is his Lab Wear.

He uses wax instead of gel to style his hair, as he finds gel to leave his hair much too stiff.

Doesn't like heels that are too high. They make it difficult for him to balance!!

Jack reports he usually wears a shirt and cardigan or jacket back home. This combination makes it easier to regulate his body temperature.

He likes the Savanaclaw Dorm Uniform because it's easy to move in and durable; it doesn't flop around.

We have to account for his ears + tail in regards to fashion. He also has a sensitive nose, so that’s a consideration for perfumes.

Jack also shops in Foothill Town for clothes.

My impression: Jack has a more simplistic fashion sense; he isn’t into super flashy or impractical clothes, instead choosing to prefer function or how the clothes perform in a given situation. For example, he will choose to wear cardigans or jackets in his cold northern home and something “neat and tidy” when working at the Mostro Lounge.

Azul

He only has a single pair of glasses, the rectangular ones that he wears on his face. After speaking with Trey, Azul says he feels like trying new frames out. Azul worries that glasses that aren't his usual style (like the circular lenses in his Masquerade Dress) may not suit him.

Though he does need correction for his vision (he says his lab goggles have a prescription), he implies that he wears glasses because they make him appear smarter.

He wears a cologne because it helps to sell the image of him being well-composed and trustworthy, especially in business dealings. Azul is very particular about his cologne, as it is one of his favorite parts of living on land.

In fact, a lot of how Azul presents himself is to create this impression that he is cool and can be trusted. This extends to his clothes, hair, and makeup.

Having grown up in the frigid Coral Sea, he has a higher tolerance for cold than most others do.

Azul is particular with how the twins present themselves too. When Floyd gifted Jade a goofy T-shirt, Azul told Jade not to wear it outside.

My impression: Azul carefully considers his grooming and dress, taking care to not appear disheveled to others. It's all a part of his personal brand! He typically sticks to the same frames, but has indicated that he may branch out. It sounds like Azul isn't too confident about changing his style until he gets validation from his peers.

Jade

When camping, Jade wears a hat so as to prevent sunburn. He also dresses in layers so he can adjust his outfit depending on the changing weather conditions.

He is also very well-put-together like Azul; this helps with gaining others' trust as he goes about gathering information for Octavinelle.

Jade says he is fond of asymmetrical designs, such as what is featured in his Halloween Dress.

Not used to clothes with excess fabric; presumably, this is also true for Azul and Floyd, although not explicitly stated.

He recommends sling bags so as to free up the hands. This is especially useful for the mountains.

Fascinated by the concept of dressing up differently for different occasions. He didn’t know the difference between pjs and street clothes back then and once walked out in public in pajamas.

Jade seems to prefer a certain brand and tends to buy his clothes from that brand.

He wears shoes that Floyd calls "way too basic", even if they are high-quality.

Having grown up in the frigid Coral Sea, he has a higher tolerance for cold than most others do.

Jade tries to get people to wear things he think they would look funny in, though Jade claims he is simply “curious” about the fashion of other races.

He irons his clothes in the morning and makes sure they are free of wrinkles.

Received a T-shirt from Floyd that he loves.

Jade describes simple black cloth as “gentlemanly and demure”.

Applying sunblock is important to him. All of his products, including makeup and lip care, include SPF.

Removes his earring when exercising.

My impression: Jade mostly dresses formally (“gentlemanly and demure”), but when he is engaging in his hobbies he plans for the scenario (layers, hats, bags, etc.). We do see bits of his disdain for boredom peeking through though, as he says he likes asymmetrical designs that will keep the eye amused. He’s creative with fashion mainly when he is dressing others for his own amusement. When it comes to himself, he tends to dress to disarm others.

Floyd

Floyd loves fashion and the freedom to pick what he wears for himself (though he handles his clothes carelessly). But! He takes good care of his shoes and shines them.

He leaves his collar unbuttoned most of the time because he finds buttoned collars constrictive.

He wasn't a big fan of clothing when he first came on land. Again, they felt constrictive and he didn't like how you have to wash them after wearing them once. It seemed like a waste of time to him.

Floyd loves to coordinate with shoes and accessories, expressing a love for fashion. The trouble is that he keeps buying more stuff and just piling it in his room.

He likes graphic tees and goofy looking moray merch. Floyd has previously purchased clothes for Jade, who loved it.

Floyd states he would rather be naked than wear “lame” clothes.

According to Jade, he tends to like flashy things.

Floyd can easily spot brand name clothing.

He chooses clothes that are easy to move in and durable for Vargas Camp.

He's especially interested in bespoke shoes, sometimes looking at shoe magazines with Ace. Floyd doesn't wear shoes in his true form, so he figures he should enjoy shoes while he's on land~

He's good at coming up with ways to experiment with his looks. For example, when considering sandals, he says you can jazz them up with nail polish, anklets, etc.

Like Jade, he doesn't understand wearing specific clothes for certain occasions such as visiting the beach. Floyd does go out of his way to buy outfits for outings though.

He still fights and nail with Jade about wearing a bow tie to this day and is notably the only member of the Octatrio that doesn't care to maintain a pretense of polite or proper dress.

Having grown up in the Coral Sea, he has a higher tolerance for cold than most others do.

Removes his earring when exercising.

My impression: Floyd is much more openly adventurous and flashy with his outfits than Jade is. He doesn't like formal clothes or being told what to wear; the wants to be allowed to be experimental, especially with his accessories. Additionally, Floyd really likes luxury shoes--they're an item he pays a lot of attention to.

Kalim

Kalim often guns for the fanciest outfits without a second thought, sometimes calling for them to be made even fancier with jewels.

He tends to go for excessive jewelry too, whether for himself or for others. Kalim once almost bought everyone in Scarabia diamonds as souvenirs. Usually wears earrings himself.

Loves the color white; he says that he always picks this color when he is getting outfits tailored. Kalim is also a fan of loud and bright colors.

He reports having "lots of outfits [like the Fairy Gala Couture] at home".

Kalim usually has his head in a scarf. There are some voice lines in which he claims he cannot do his headdress by himself and other voice lines in which he offers to help you wrap your own.

He only wears clothes of the highest quality.

My impression: Kalim has a very extravagant and excessive fashion sense. He wears a lot of white and loves tons of detail and accessories in his outfits, including head scarves and jewelry. Really doesn't know when enough is enough.

Jamil

Jamil works hard at taking care of his appearance. This is partly because he, as a servant, could impact the reputation of his employers, the Asims, if he presents in a slovenly manner, especially when on the job or helping at an event.

He particularly likes to take care of his hair. Jamil likes it long, even if it takes more effort to maintain. He uses a variety of high quality and rare products on it, and his sister also gifts him hair products. Jamil has taught himself how to do his hair in the mornings with magic, though it took significant practice.

He has a keen eye for textiles and embroidery, often examining clothes and commenting on its quality when browsing.

Jamil tries on clothes before he buys them. He of course considers the design and material, but comfort is also an important factor for him.

Jamil states that he likes to wear oversized and comfortable clothes. The loose fit is nice and allows him to easily move, which probably helps with fulfilling his duties. This is perhaps why Jamil wears a hoodie in his School Uniform card.

He wears many hair ornaments. Jamil buys them himself and receives them as gifts. He claims he is not too particular about them.

Jamil feels a little uneasy about bugs, even if he knows they are fake. He's reluctant to touch the silver insects on his Fairy Gala Couture boots. Ironically, he does not express any anxiety about the scarabs on his Dorm Uniform shoes.

He likes the arm sleeve on his Basketball Club Uniform—both the design and its function, which keeps his shots steady.

Jamil doesn’t normally choose colors like silver. It’s hard for him to feel comfortable in it.

He does not like accessories that can throw off his balance.

Warns others to be careful with delicate items such as corsages.

Jamil says prefers to not be bothered and to not stand out.

My impression: Compared to Kalim, Jamil's fashion is much more demure and dialed back. He still dresses well and fine fabrics so as to not bring shame to the Asims. For more casual attire, he prioritizes quality and comfort, preferring oversized and comfortable clothes he can easily move in. Probably avoid bug designs. Jamil wears his hair in an elaborate style but claims he doesn't think much of it + the accessories... which I don't personally buy for one second. It's one of the few things he has control over in his life, and why would he keep buying accessories and being gifted them if he supposedly doesn't care??? I think bro's humble bragging www

Vil

He, as a model and influencer, is familiar with the top brands and even works closely with some of them. He's well aware of the value of his face and won't allow others to use it without proper compensation.

He sometimes has to wear disguises to avoid paparazzi.

Notices little details like slightly different stripe thicknesses.

Vil is comfortable parading around in a variety of styles; he doesn’t seem to have a particular preference for one over the other, as he tends to have praise for whatever he finds himself wearing, as well as the clothes of other cultures. If an outfit can be stylish as well as functional, he can commend that too.

Often agrees with Crewel. For example, they both think Vargas has very "strange" tastes in fashion.

He won’t compromise on his looks. For example, he’ll bring an entire skincare routine with him when camping.

Expresses a jealousy towards his celebrity rival Neige's popularity. This may be in part to Vil being aware that he can't pull off the same "cute and innocent" aesthetic that Neige does.

Vil creates his own perfumes, skincare, and other cosmetics. He gives these to his dorm members as well.

Has scathing words for those who put no effort into their appearance and/or those who look down on caring about one's looks.

Notably, Vil is the concept of gender itself/j very comfortable wearing even very feminine outfits, such as more makeup-heavy looks or skirts/dress-adjacent additions.

My impression: One of the most fashion forward in the NRC cast, as well as one of the most flexible with his dress. He doesn't have one particular style he favors, though he is often seen in classic and elegant clothes that the public seems to think best suit his image. Vil is also gender non-conforming in his fashion, sometimes wearing traditionally "feminine" looks and being conident in it. Able and willing to call out what he deems as unseemly.

Rook

He used to cut his bangs with a knife. Back then, Rook was only concerned about keeping his vision clear. Nowadays, he ties his hair back when he exercises or cooks.

His hair is easily damaged by UV, so he has to take extra good care of it. Without that extra care, Rook says his hair becomes wheat-like in texture. Vil describes his old hair as being "long and unkempt" "dry and shaggy", and lacking in volume.

He used to wear denim jeans with holes and tears in them (as the result of animals). He also wore sweatpants often.

Rook tans easily; before meeting Vil, Rook didn't really have a skincare routine. His cheeks were freckled and the tip of his nose was red.

Vil says that Rook's only criteria for casual clothing used to be that it should be easy to move in. Rook has no trouble still hunting in his Pomefiore uniform, but also remarks that it was much easier to move in his Savanaclaw one.

Rook consistently wears hats. In his Savanaclaw days, the hat was consistently dirty with sticks, leaves, and soil. He recommends it to others as well to keep the sun out of their eyes while hunting.

He is also usually wearing gloves. This is probably because, as an archer, he needs to protect his hands when he pulls on the strings. Additionally, it could be that the gloves help to further conceal his presence (fingerprints).

His concept of beauty is not grounded in looks alone; Rook is able to appreciate even things others would typically consider ugly or odd.

Rook adopted a more elegant “Pomefiore” sense of style after he transferred and was encouraged by Vil to make himself as beautiful as the subjects he observed. To be clear, Rook states he does enjoy the Pomefiore uniform. He now also encourages others, such as Epel, to embrace the Pomefiore ways.

He says, "I never forget my duty to live up to the clothes I wear."

He doesn’t wear scent unless commanded to by Vil. This is because smell can give away his presence to others.

Rook has a keen eye for detail and can hone in on slight physical changes in both himself and in others.

My impression: Though Rook prioritizes dress that is easy to move in, allows him to hunt, and still conceals him, he currently dresses very differently and follows a new style that’s more in line with Pomefiore traditions. It’s not certain whether Rook still prefers his old threads and self-care routine, but he definitely seems loyal to his new ones at the moment. I get the sense that he really wants to "live up" to the standards of whatever outfit he has on.

Epel

Epel agrees with Deuce that flaming skulls would be a cool motif. It seems they share a sense of style.

He admits to having never thought much about his own appearance. If given the choice, however, Epel would prefer to be called cool rather than cute.

Epel appreciates the light, warm nature of the Applepom outfits. He's proud of his hometown and how the community comes together to prepare clothes and such for visitors.

Though Epel often scoffs at the skincare items Vil forces upon him, he does extol sunblock, as the sunlight bouncing off the snow of his home village can be very harsh.

He's somewhat clumsy, so he cannot handle outfits with excessive fabric too well. Epel tends to trip over himself.

He likes apple patterns on clothes, particularly the poison apple. Epel just thinks it's so cool!

Doesn't like tight clothing or clothes with ribbons and frills on them.

My impression: Epel wants to be seen as "cool"!! ... Which, if we know anything about Epel, is probably something along the lines of "traditionally masculine", seeing as how he looks up to people like Leona. He can learn to appreciate non-masculine outfits like his Rabbit Costume and Applepom, given the right circumstances (the former is rabbit-themed, which he likes, the latter is practical and comes from his hometown). His clothes should fit him and not be oversized in case he trips over it. Epel also favors apple patterns when possible.

Idia

Idia despises the idea of dressing up. It's implied that his usual threads are pretty plain (which makes sense; he doesn't like being stared at).

He repurposes his lab coat and goggles over his pajamas, finding the combo comfortable yet functional. The large pockets allow him to stash his phone or anything else he wants in them. The coat can also catch any spills or crumbs that get on it while he is snacking. Idia has modified the lenses to filter out blue light to make the goggles optimal for gaming. The gloves keep his fingers from getting sweaty and playing poorly. He gets all the functionality while others can't tell he's actually being a slob; Idia calls this "stealth mode".

Idia praises the functionality of the Applepom outfit as well. (The pom-pom on the hat is protective.)

There are rare instances in which Idia will praise the aesthetic; for example, he claims the gloves in his Lab Coat are part of the "aesthetic", but then he immediately continues to comment on the practicality of them.

Idia expresses that he is unable to relax when his hair is pulled back. This is likely because it called more attention to his face.

Very hyped about getting merch of his favorite things, such as a very exclusive T-shirt of his favorite girl group.

He speaks more confidently when he is wearing a mask or helmet, as it conceals his face.

Idia notices the quality and skill it takes to make cosplay. He incorporates his own knowledge of technology and materials to (for example) make a functional Halloween costume with light armor and sound effects.

My impression: Overall, Idia values function over form/looks and prefers his face to be hidden as much as possible. He chooses to dress in a non-descript way and loathes getting dolled up. There are exceptions to this rule; Idia can appreciate a good aesthetic and be passionate about clothing items if they are related to his niche otaku hobbies and interests.

Ortho

Ortho doesn't wear clothes like the traditional human would; rather, his parts can be switched out as needed. Many of his Gears are designed and installed by Idia, whom Ortho praises. He even refers to himself as his older brother's "masterpiece".

Ortho has a large span of capabilities depending on which Gear he is currently wearing, as each is designated with specific functions in mind. He describes Gears as containers he can upload his data into.

His body is capable of having many external add-ons. For example, Idia has made an Oral-Energy-Intake Gear so Ortho can simulate eating food on his birthday.

He thinks that cleaning his individual parts must take forever compared to just doing a load of laundry.

Ortho must consistently update his data to stay up to trend. To do this, he goes out to look at what's currently avaliable.

Post book 6, Ortho becomes more independent of Idia and more willing to design his own Gears. For example, Ortho is responsible for his White Rabbit Gear and contributes his own idea of "evolution" to his Fairy Gear (designed by Crewel).

Sometimes Ortho will ask Idia to make his Gears more decorative. For example, he requests that stars be added to his Starsending Gear.

Other times, Ortho will want to try out new Gears simply to sate his own curiosity. One example is in his Athletic Gear; he was curious about what it feels like to have feet, so Ortho asked Idia for them.

My impression: Like his older brother, Ortho values functionality. Unlike Idia though, Ortho is more experimental and curious with his looks. He actively goes out to gather more data about fashion and seeks new experiences which will enhance his own understanding of what it means to be human.

Malleus

Black is the color of Briar Valley’s royal family. Therefore, Malleus often wears large swathes of black.

He is not comfortable in clothes he barely wears such as his Ceremonial Robes. In the case of the robes, they stir up memories of being left out or uninvited.

Malleus points out the gold rose embroidery on the black fabric of his Masquerade Dress. He then remarks that the maker must “shares [his] tastes.”

Malleus is interested in uniforms. He thinks it is fascinating how, simply by wearing clothes, people assume a new role (such as “student” or “teacher”). Notably, be says few people dress “like this” in Briar Valley, implying that the fashion norms there are very different.

He notices striking makeup and accessories, as well as good fabric quality. Malleus invites others to take note of these too.

Malleus needs specially tailored headwear to accommodate for his horns. For example, his ceremonial robes have holes in the hood.

He rarely shows his tail, so it normally doesn’t need to be accounted for in his outfits.

My impression: I get the feeling that Malleus's fashion sense is elegant yet VERY outdated due to a combination of being so long-lived and sheltered. He seems interested in learning more about fashion as it relates to social status and occupations, but doesn't make a strong effort to explore it. It seems he also longs to be invited to events so he has an excuse to wear clothes that suit them, such as NRC's ceremonies. He defaults to wearing a lot of black to show off his affinity to the Briar Valley royal family.

Lilia

The most experimental in Diasomnia. He loves to paint his fingernails different colors, as well as dye his hair different colors.

In his days as a war general, he wore a mask that most humans would call scary. Lilia however thinks that the mask is "pretty stylish."

He cuts his own hair, as well as Silver and Malleus's.

Lilia is quite confident in his looks, often playing up and praising his own cuteness and charm.

He loves seeing clothing from cultures outside of his own.

Lilia notes that he used to wear stuffy uniforms to formal events. It seems he doesn't quite care for those clothes.

He is weak to the sun, so he has various methods to minimize his exposure and/or to deal with the sunlight.

Lilia doesn't mind clothes that impede him, such as his lab coat which has long sleeves. He "just [deals] with it" because he prefers his clothes to stay cute.

Like Vil, Lilia is another member of the cast that is comfortable wearing traditionally more "feminine" clothes, such as ruffles and skirts.

My impression: Lilia definitely has the most unique sense of style in Diamonia. Despite his age, he is flexible and willing to change with the times and cultures he encounters. He loves trying new things and adopting clothes, hair, and makeup that, although burdensome, enhance his cuteness. He also doesn't mind more "sinister" or edgy styles, such as what he wears for his Club Wear card and in his General's Armor card. Probably no formal clothes in his free time unless there's some added spice to it.

Silver

Silver thinks black uniforms are cool because Briar Valley's royal guard wears black too.

He grooms himself to "meet basic standards" but doesn't know much about fashion. Silver says he is 'clueless" about these kinds of matters.

He has a limited understanding of beauty in general. When Vil asks him to think of something beautiful, Silver replies with "Vil-senpai", and when Ortho tells him he looks like a fairy tale prince, Silver wonders if he looks like Malleus.

His headwear may be crooked sometimes, as Silver is falling asleep while standing up so often. He may also rub at his eyes, which smudges his makeup.

He likes practical clothing, nothing how his Dorm Uniform is easy to move in and how his Fairy Gala Couture boots could make for useful weapons in a pinch.

Silver thinks of some articles of clothing and accessories as obstacles. He notes that he may have to remove necklaces and such, as they could catch on his sword and impede him.

Other times, he thinks that bothersome items could serve as good training opportunities for him. For example, in his Masquerade Dress, his hat limits his field of vision but Silver says it can help him learn to be a better knight.

Silver reports that even if he is dressed up fancily, he is always prepared for emergencies.

My impression: Silver is (in my eyes) the least fashion forward of the group just based on his dialogue. He has a very limited way of thinking about how he dresses and prioritizes optimization for combat or training, not even considering how outfits look for the most part. Silver strikes me as the kind of guy who wears whatever others tell him to (particularly his dad), otherwise he'll go with something sensible and simple.

Sebek

Sebek maintains a neat and tidy appearance so as to not dishonor his liege.

He uses a LOT of hair gel to slick his hair back every day.

Sebek is sensitive to the cold, so he has to bundle up in the winter or snowy areas. He considers wearing a hat that covers his ears all year-round due to how comfortable he finds it.

He says he is not sure what clothes suit him best; he usually wears whatever he is given.

Sebek seems to favor protective gear, describing his coat for Vargas Camp as “durable, waterproof, [and] breathable”. He has lovingly stuck on Diasomnia iconography onto that rainwear too, really letting his inner fanboy speak.

Enthusiastic about clothes endorsed by Malleus and/or Lilia.

My impression: Like Jamil, Sebek takes care of his appearance so he, a servant, doesn't make his master look bad by association. This includes styling his hair so not a single strand of it falls in his face. He also seems to favor protective clothing, sharp uniforms, and anything with approval from Malleus or Lilia.

Crowley

Crowley presents as quite the vain character; he takes quick 3 minutes showers in the morning but leaves ample time for massages and beauty treatments.

He loves shiny things like jewels and precious metals, stating that he could stare at them forever if allowed to.

Crowley calls the mirrors on his belt beautiful. Again, this is probably because he likes shiny things.

He takes care of his shoes. When he notices they are even a little scuffed, he says that he will polish them until they are sparkling later.

He is reportedly never seen without his mask.

Students say they think Crowley would enjoy vacation clothes.

My impression: Crowley is upset when others—staff or student—do not give him the respect he feels he deserves. He is also shown many times over to care about the prestigious reputation of his school. If we extrapolate these feelings, it may explain why Crowley dresses the way he does: to come across like a respectable man, one who represents the interests of NRC (symbolized by the raven). The raven look may also just be because that’s the kind of fae he is, though this has not been confirmed by canon. Of course, he has also managed to incorporate the shiny accessories that catch his eye. People seem to think he likes vacation wear (such as Hawaiian shirts) due to his penchant to slack off.

Crewel

Crewel enjoys both current trends as well as vintage fashion; on his days off, he says he visits some vintage shops, as he finds older clothes that have lasted a long time have a certain aura about them that is hard to replicate.

He loves that the world of fashion is always evolving. It reminds him of his own inadequacies, which he works tirelessly to improve upon.

Crewel designs clothes and has done so for various students and himself. He is also shown to be capable of magically reinforcing them to be studier for combat.

He has experience working in the fashion industry prior to teaching. It’s clear that fashion is very near and dear to his heart, even to this day, since he continues to keep up with and engage with it.

Crewel also concocts his own cologne. He wears one of his own creations.

His fur coat is custom-made. It seems that he finds value in the uniqueness of it.

Crewel may share similar tastes and design philosophy as Vil, as the two work together in Fairy Gala and Fairy Gala: If to design and train the NRC runway models.

My impression: Crewel’s style strikes me as very flexible, forward-thinking, and willing to change. He demonstrates respect for both classic and modern fashions and doesn’t allow himself to be bound by a specific era. The man is always inventing something or on the hunt for the next best thing.

Trein

Trein claims that he is not particular at all with his outfits.

When asked about the way he dresses, he says he just makes sure his outfit and personal grooming befit that of a professor. This includes carrying around a lint roller to clean himself and the area of Lucius’s fur.

My impression: Though Trein doesn’t really seem to care for fashion, I wouldn’t say he has no sense for it or that he’s a slob—he very clearly puts effort into his appearance, if only to look professional. It’s just not an area he has a particular investment in, but he what he does take seriously is his job. This is therefore reflected in how perfectly groomed his appearance is.

Vargas

He prefers clothing that is easy to move around in; in one of his Unified Exam lines, he expresses that he cannot understand why Crewel’s fur coat is so expensive yet is also so impractical to move around in.

Vargas seems to canonically have a poor eye for aesthetics. In Vargas Camp, he appears in a strange beast-like outfit that he designed himself. In the sequel event, he gives Crewel a similarly eccentric and over-the-top outfit which everyone hints it is odd-looking. Vargas however thinks his designs are cool and powerful.

He suggests a heavier material for the school's P.E. uniforms so as to help the students enhance their muscles while they work out.

My impression: Vargas is really into sportswear/garments that are easy to move in, as well as things that look cool or strong to him (but are weird-looking to everyone else). He may also like clothes that help him with his training in other ways.

Sam

Sam states that he has multiples of the same suit that he just swaps around.

He explains the charm of his outfit as “whimsy peeking out from the formal”, most likely referring to the unique skeletal pattern on his suit.

Crewel states that Sam is aware of how he presents himself. Crewel also commends Sam's style as "unique" and "splendid", even if his tastes differ from Sam's.

My impression: Bro’s a NPC— I think Sam has said it pretty plainly himself; he likes formal clothes that have some fun or whimsical element to it. It also sounds like he doesn’t change up his style very often, given that he has so many of the same thing in his closet.

Yuu and Grim as a bonus

Yuu and Grim often have matching outfits whenever they get new ones (especially during events).

Grim loves outfits that make him stand out and emphasize his coolness. He tends to show off when he’s in something new.

Yuu realistically may have a NRC school uniform provided for them by Crowley; this is noted in the light novel (as in, Crowley actually hands Yuu a uniform), but not in the game or manga.

The Ramshackle Ghosts have made Halloween costumes for them out of old curtains. It follows that perhaps this is something they do for other occasions.

My impression: Aw, twinsies 🥺 That aside, Yuu and Grim have to take what they can get cuz otherwise Yuu’s literally only got the clothes on their back when they first arrived in Twisted Wonderland and Grim is basically naked. They can’t afford to be picky, just take whatever is handed to them and walk off with it

[dreamii-yume]

There is something appealing about the classic Stalker-type of Yanderes.

I know people would say that aren’t all Yanderes a stalker at some point of their yandere career lol? And yeah, I agree—But I’m talking specifically about those that you don’t even know existed. Like you don’t have any relation with them, or maybe you do but you’ve never talked to each other, and yet they still know you…somehow.

Be it a classmate, but they’re all the way on the other class so you never interacted with each other. A neighbor that you waved to maybe once in a blue moon during a morning walk. A co-worker who works the same 9-5 as you do in the same company, but is always assigned to a different task than you. They could even just be some random dude off the streets ☠️ They don’t have to be someone important. They’re just a normal citizen who lives in the same community as you, but they’re always…Lurking wherever you’re around. That’s the power of the classic no-named Yandere.

They’re extremely delusional too—They have the tendency to think that you owe them something for having to spend majority of their lives watching, observing, and studying you. They know everything about you that they are practically convinced that the two of you are already dating in their mind and you just don’t know it yet. I’m sure you’re aware of their presence too in some degree, it’s very difficult for humans to ignore that unsettling feeling of being watched after all. But since they’re so good with blending in with the shadows, you can never find solid evidence to prove that they were there and so it would leave you no choice but to accept it as nothing more than a mixture of paranoia and imagination.

They know about your schedule like the back of their hands, and sometimes, if they’re feeling courageous, they would create opportunities to bump into you on purpose. A few notes from a teacher on the other class? Food that they made too much for them to eat alone? A problem in your office computer that only they could fix? Excuses, excuses…All of them were nothing but excuses to scout you better.

After days, weeks, months, and even years of playing this stalker game, they would eventually reach the breaking point—The point where the craving for you is too much that they’re willing to step out of the shadows for the first time. They may be patient, but they can’t just settle for your imaginary touch forever. You need to be aware of who they are, and the thought of rejection did not even crossed their minds once. They are absolutely convinced, darlings.

They make sure your meeting with them this time is very special, one that you will never forget, one that they deem as “romantic” because they are sure that you are just as thrilled as they are. You were probably waiting for this day to come too, they thought. They carry package in their hands—A fake one, but looks official enough that you could confuse them with the package you were expecting all these days. They wore a delivering company’s uniform so as to not alert the nearby people who may recognize them, they’re even nervous about you recognizing them too, knowing damn well that you probably won’t. But they rang your doorbell anyway, patiently waiting as the scurrying footsteps from inside gets closer, making their already racing heart beat even faster due to excitement.

The moment you opened the door without so much as checking through the peep hole on who it is, they knew your fate was sealed. They greet you like how a delivery person employee would and eventually asked for your signature, and you blindly trust them—Taking the pen. But just as you did, you were unexpectedly pushed roughly inside your own home and down to the floor with this random person casually coming in and locking the door behind them. As you looked up and saw this person smiled down at you, you knew you’ve fucked up.

Yanderes typically do not respond well with anyone who contradicts their chosen delusions, but you don’t know that because you don’t know them. You don’t know what this person’s deal is, and you’re just plagued with fear of whatever would happen to you from this point on. So, when they started confessing to all the years of love and adoration they’ve gained for you over the long, long time that they’ve been stalking observing you, your first reaction is naturally to be freaked out. Who is this person? What do they want? Questions like that fills your brain as you couldn’t even comprehend a person this deranged was actually in front of you right now. They’re crazy, they must be…!

…So, you reject them.

It doesn’t matter if you said it in a sharp and serious voice, or a nice and pleasing way—They react negatively either ways. Before you know it, you’re trapped in your own bed with their hands tightly wrapped around your neck. They start denying your “mean” accusations, starts telling you everything they’ve done for you, and even insult you a bit on the side with dilated eyes. Your mind is screaming at you, fearing that this might be the day where you die so tears was inevitable. Luckily, they loved you too much to actually kill you, so they settle for the next best conclusion : You’re the one who’s wrong.

It’s not true, you like them just as much as he does—Or at least, you will soon in a matter of time. You’re just scared of how the world around you would react, you’re just scared of the commitment, you love them too. Suddenly, they’re the ones pitying you, they stroke your head like a pet as you coughed away the uncomfortable feeling of your neck almost getting squeezed out. You couldn’t do anything but watch as this unknown person laughs maniacally, talking to you like you’re back to five years old.

They tell you not to worry…They will help you see your true feelings about them soon and they will not stop until you said the same words back at him. After all, now that he’s here, you don’t have to worry about everything else in your life, so you have all the time in the world. They definitely know how take care of you, since they know everything about you. All these knowledge wasn’t such a waste of effort after all.

[zhonyua]

bittersweet memories

modern!au neuvillette x fem!reader

context: neuvillette works too much and your daughter misses him.

content: fluffy, angst/comfort because i live for it, ooc neuvillette maybe.

notes: you and neuvillette are married and have a daughter named "kiara", neuvillette's job subjects aren't mentioned.

neuvillette is a busy man. he spends most of his time working. that can be a little stressful for him, but the person who suffers the most from it, it’s your daughter.

she’s eight years old, and sometimes she just misses her daddy so much, that you need to be creative to distract her.

well, you can’t blame her. when neuvillette leaves for work, she’s still sleeping, and when he comes back home, she’s already sleeping. they just spend time together at weekends and, sometimes, and even that can be hard when neuvillette needs to work extra hours.

you’re always explaining that “it’s not daddy’s fault”, but she’s just a kid after all.

that’s how the whole house ended up stressed.

you woke up with the sunlight, invading your room through the windows, bothering your eyes. you patted your side at the bed, noticing the empty spot there. sighing, you realized that you didn’t see your husband leaving again.

after some minutes of laziness, you got up. you made the bed and dressed something more comfortable than your pajamas. finally, you went to the kitchen, not before checking your daughter at her room, who was sleeping soundly.

you began to prepare your breakfast, distracted by your thoughts. you checked your phone a couple times to see if your husband had sent any message to you, but the only thing he said was a “have a good day” and an emoji.

soon, you heard small steps approaching the kitchen and you smiled without noticing. you felt a pair of small eyes staring at you and you noticed kiara peeking at you from behind the wall. she looked adorable with her little pajamas and her messy hair.

“good morning, sleepyhead.” you said, with a warm smile. as soon as she noticed that you saw her, she ran towards you, making you pick her up quickly and carefully so she couldn’t fall and hurt herself.

“good morning, mommy.” she said with a sleepy voice. her small arms wrapping around your neck as she buried her face on your shoulder.

you chuckled at her cuteness, putting her down to sit at her chair on the table. you kissed the top of her head, nuzzling her hair and messing it even more.

“are you hungry?” you asked, chuckling when her eyes shined and she nodded eagerly. you put the breakfast on the table, organizing everything so it would look more appetizing. kiara's little eyes looked hungrily at everything.

you prepared her plate, putting a small amount of the pancakes on it, pouring some syrup, making sure that it would look like a spiral on top of the pancakes, because you knew she liked it. you patted her head, before warning her to be careful while eating, so she wouldn’t choke or get her clothes dirty.

then, you prepared your own plate, before joining your daughter at the table. she was munching her pancakes with her eyes closed, while savoring the sweetness of the food. you couldn’t ignore the fact that she looked exactly like your husband. the same white locks and peaceful eyes. It was like having a small version of neuvillette.

after you two finished eating, you started to get her ready for school. she was a well-behaved child. she let you dress her and brush her hair, while you two talked about casual things like a little friend at school or a different bird she saw outside.

finally, she was ready, dressed with her school uniform and with her backpack.

“honey, smile for the picture.” you said, grabbing your phone. you had this healthy habit of taking pictures of her everyday and sending them to neuvillette, so he could feel closer to her. kiara looked away, shyly, but smiled softly at your phone, because she knew that her daddy would be proud to see her so obedient.

you sent the picture to neuvillette, but of course he didn’t see it. maybe he was too busy at work.

you took your daughter to school, then you went home again.

your days were a bit boring. you spent most part of the day alone. some times you hung out with your friend, lumine and some times you just stayed at your house watching movies.

you lived a “princess life”. your husband worked really hard to give the best life ever to you and your daughter. you couldn’t be more grateful for him.

that day was just a normal boring day. soon, it was time to get your daughter at school, and you was anxious to be with someone at that lonely house.

she came the whole way home talking about school, her friends and her teachers. you listened carefully to everything she said and even chuckled when she talked about some funny stories she heard.

when you two got home, she looked around the house, as if looking for something, but then she sighed. you noticed it quickly and your frowned.

“what is it, dear? what are you looking for?” you asked, putting her backpack away and getting even more curious when she pouted.

“i thought daddy was already home.” kiara said in a whisper, looking down at the floor. you sighed, before kneeling down in front of her.

“oh, my dear. i already told you daddy just gets home when it’s dark outside, didn’t i?” you spoke in a soft tone, caressing her cheek. she nodded sadly.

“i know…” she said, her happy smile disappearing almost instantly. you knew you had to think fast of a way to distract her.

“hey, what do say about watching a movie?” you asked, lifting her chin and looking at her eyes carefully. she nodded, but she still looked upset.

you wondered why she had changed her mood so fast. you walked to the living room, setting everything up to watch your movie together. the little girl followed you, sitting at the couch with a sad pout.

you sat next to her, resting your hand on her shoulder.

“hey.” you called her, smiling softly and reassuringly. “what’s wrong, my love?” you asked in a soft tone, as if asking in a higher voice could make her even more sad.

she looked down and got silent for a moment, before speaking again. “today at school, my friends were talking about their dads.” she started, with a low and slow voice. you held your breath, already imagining what she would say next. “they said that they do all sorts of things together and that they see each other everyday and every time!” she said, looking at you with wide eyes. “how is that even possible?”

you swallowed hard, not knowing what to say without hurting her feelings.

“hm, you see, maybe their dads don’t need to work like your daddy do.” you said, carefully, measuring your words. you could see the tears forming on her eyes and your heart skipped a beat.

“i wish daddy didn’t work.” she said, a heavy voice and tears rolling down her cheeks, as she looked down. you instantly got worried, pulling her closer to you.

“oh, my love, don’t cry.” your voice sounded hurt to see your little child like that. she looked so upset. you pulled her into a hug and she buries her tiny body on yours, sobbing softly and quietly.

“does daddy not like being with me? is that why he works all the time?” she sobbed into her words. you squeezed her a little tighter, caressing her back in a soothing way.

“of course not, my dear. he loves you so much.” you said and you felt how her sobs got louder. “he loves you too much, that’s why he works a lot.” you kept saying, and she grabbed your shirt firmly.

“then, why?” she asked, her voice breaking. she looked so hurt and upset that she didn’t even look like an eight years old child. “i miss him. i miss daddy.” she kept sobbing and saying things like that, while you kept trying to soothe her.

after a few minutes, she stopped crying and you noticed that she fell asleep in your arms. you stroked her cheek with your thumb, your heart heavy. your daughter was breathing more softly now, her little hands grabbing your shirt, but softer than before.

you carried her to her room, very carefully so she wouldn’t wake up, putting her on her bed, covering her with her soft and warm blankets. you kissed her forehead, before leaving her alone with her dreams.

you knew that you couldn’t talk about that to neuvillette. he would be totally devastated. you decided that you wouldn’t comment about that to him.

the night was already settled. you were sitting on your couch, watching a movie, when you heard the door opening. you tilted your head to look at the door and you saw a familiar silhouette, putting his shoes aside.

you quickly walked towards him, with a smile on your face. neuvillette put his suitcase down, to hug your waist and nuzzles his nose on your hair.

“welcome home, love.” you hummed, placing a kiss on his neck and feeling how the spot warmed.

“hello, my dear.” he said, pulling away to look at your face. his smile disappeared as soon as he laid his eyes on you. “is something wrong?”

ah, right. you almost forgot how observant he was. his examining skills were insane. just a few seconds and he could sense that you weren’t fine. you tried your best to smile.

“hm? what do you mean?” you asked, innocently. His eyes narrowed even more. you gulped.

you couldn’t tell him about what happened, he would he heartbroken, but you couldn’t keep lying to him, because you knew you wouldn’t convince him.

“it’s kiara.” you said, biting your lips and looking away. “she had a rough day at school. you know, kids stuff.” you decided to change the truth a little.

neuvillette sighed, clearly upset. “i wish i could stay with her.” his voice sounded a bit hurt. you knew how he craved to be with your daughter, to hug her and to tell her that everything was going to be okay.

you put a hand on his shoulder, squeezing it reassuringly. “it’s not your fault.” you said, giving him a soothing smile. he smiled back at you, placing a soft kiss on your forehead.

“i'm going to see her, alright?” neuvillette said, before pulling away from you and walking towards the girl's room. he always did that, even if she was asleep.

when he entered the room and saw kiara sleeping so peacefully, he felt a familiar peace inside his chest. he slowly sat on the edge of the bed, watching his daughter's features, as if he wanted to remember every single spot on her cute face.

he caressed her hair, very softly so he wouldn't wake her up, while smiling softly. he leaned closer to her, placing a kiss on her forehead before getting up and leaving the room. he felt his heart sinking on his chest. neuvillette knew that he was loosing his daughter's childhood, but he was doing it for her.

you were in the kitchen, warming up the food for him, when he came in. you felt his arms wrapping around your waist, while he rested his chest on your back. the sudden touch made you gasp and giggle at the same time.

"hey, i almost burnt myself." your voice sounded playful, but neuvillette looked at you with concerned eyes.

"oh, i'm sorry." when he was about to let go of you, you grabbed his arms, wrapping them around you again, but now with you facing him.

"i'm just kidding." the smile on your lips made him relax again. you noticed how his eyes seemed tired. he stared back at you, noticing that your eyes still had a hint of concern. neuvillette leaned in, touching your lips with his. it was just a simple brush of lips, as if you two were teenagers having their first love.

you wrapped your arms around his neck, sighing and smiling between the soft and quick kiss. when he was going to pull away, you pressed your lips together again, making his eyes widen for a short moment, before closing again. you couldn't deny that you missed moments like this.

his hands rested on your waist while you leaned in even more to his touch. when you were about to deepen the kiss, he pulled away. you looked confusedly at him, your eyes half-closed.

"are you feeling that smell?" neuvillette asked, sniffing the air. the realization immediately hit you, making you turn to the oven to save the food that was almost burning up.

"ah! ...ah." you said, looking at how the food was starting to look disgusting. you sighed. "well, it's useless now." you were about to discard the food when a pale and large hand held your wrist.

"wait, don't do it." neuvillette grabbed the food from your hand and poured some things on it, like spices and other things like that. "there it is, now we can eat it." he smiled, proud of his work.

"are you sure? i can make a new one." you said, looking at the food with unsure eyes. in response, neuvillette grabbed a spoon of the food and took it near your mouth.

"prove it." he said, still holding the spoon. you looked at him and sighed, taking the spoon in your mouth. your eyes widened a bit when you noticed that it was still good.

"hmm! you're right, it's good." you chuckled, seeing how neuvillette smiled softly at you. "alright then, you should eat it. you must be hungry after all your work today."

you stayed with him while he ate, talking about your day or about something new kiara learned. he listened carefully to every word, while eating and flavoring the food you made for him. when he finished, he washed his dishes and turned to you. you looked up at him, smiling softly and playfully at the same time.

"thank you for the food, my dear." he said, kissing your forehead and resting his lips a little longer there. when he pulled away, he had a sad smile. "i wish i could eat with you every day." you knew he was talking about kiara too, and your heart sank.

you knew that both of them missed each other, and you didn't know how to solve this problem. you reached your hand to caress his cheek and he leaned into the touch.

"she misses you too." you started, measuring your words exactly like you did with kiara. "but she knows that you're working this hard for her." seeing your soothing smile, he leaned in even more in your hand. "and besides, we can always spend time together on weekends, right?"

he nodded, leaving kisses on the palm of your hand. "i know." he said in a whisper. he really was like his daughter. you felt like you just had a deja-vu.

you pulled him to a hug, wrapping your arms around his waist. you felt his arms wrapping around your shoulder, squeezing you as if you were a plush. "she loves you, you know?" you whispered in his ear and you felt how he squeezed you even tighter, but not too much. "and she knows you love her too."

he pulled away, looking at your eyes. his hand reached your cheek, brushing his thumb against your skin in a calm and soft way. "i love you." neuvillette's voice made your heart beat faster. "i love you too." you answered, chuckling while trying to hide your red cheeks.

"i'm sorry, my dear, but i'm afraid i can't stay awake much longer." neuvillette said, his sentence being cut by a yawn. you chuckled and patted his shoulder. "alright, alright. go ahead, you need to rest." you said, pushing him in a playful way towards the bedroom.

in a few minutes, neuvillette was already snoring softly on his bed, sleeping so tightly that you could think he had fainted. you were next to him, playing with his white hair, brushing your fingers along his scalp. kiara wasn't the only person that missed him, but you didn't want to complain about that, so you always kept that feeling on your chest. that feeling that you knew it would break his heart if he knew about it. you sighed, burying yourself on his arms and he instantly hugged you, still asleep. soon, you fell asleep too.

the next day, you woke up with a familiar voice calling for you. you slowly opened your eyes, still a bit drowsy. when you saw neuvillette, gently shaking you and whispering your name, you knew something was off.

you sat up on the bed, feeling dizzy because you did it too fast. "what happened?" your voice sounded worried and neuvillette rested his hand on your shoulder.

"don't worry." his voice sounded soothing and you tried to calm down. "it's kiara. i think she has a fever." he helped you get up from the bed and walk to kiara's room. "i came to see her before leaving for work but her face feels hot." the two of you entered the girl's room.

she was sleeping on her bed, her blankets wrapping around her. she had an annoyed expression on her face, as if she was feeling very uncomfortable. you carefully touched her forehead with the back of your hand, feeling how warm her face was. she was really with a fever.

"i need to go to work but, maybe i can take you two to the hospital?" neuvillette looked worried. he wanted to take care of kiara but he couldn't miss work.

"don't worry, i'll take care of her." before you could even finish your sentence, kiara opened her eyes slowly, looking around the room. at the moment she saw neuvillette, her eyes widened.

"daddy?" her voice sounded low because of the fever, but even though, she tried to get up and reach for neuvillette. he immediately got closer to her, sitting next to her on her bed.

"hey, dear." his voice sounded soothing but his eyes were concerned. kiara quickly hugged him, tightly, as if she didn't want to let him go. neuvillette caressed her hair with his hand.

"daddy, i missed you." kiara's voice sounded muffled because she was burying herself in neuvillette's arms. he looked surprised by her reaction, but he kept caressing her hair. "please, stay here today." her request broke neuvillette's heart into tiny pieces.

"oh, my sweetheart, you know that i can't do that." she hugged him even tighter when he said that. "please." she asked again and a small sob escaped her lips. neuvillette's eyes widened and he pulled away from her, looking at her face.

tears started to form in her eyes and fell down her cheeks. the moment that you were eagerly trying to avoid was happening right in front of you. you checked neuvillette's reaction and he looked completely shocked.

"don't cry, my baby." he brushed his thumb on his daughter's cheeks, wiping away her tears, but she just sobbed even more. "please, daddy, please." she grabbed him by the coat, desperately trying to convince him. it was truly a heartbroken moment.

"my love, you know that daddy needs to work." you tried to intervene, but kiara shook her head, ignoring your words completely.

"no!" she yelled, sobbing and trying to hug neuvillette again. "no... i want daddy here. i want to stay with him." neuvillette looked up at you, without knowing what to do. you saw that his eyes looked upset and hurt. you knew that he hated to see kiara crying, specially because of him.

"my love, please listen." neuvillette tried to speak, but kiara kept yelling at both of you. you knew you had to scold her for screaming with you two, but you also knew that she was hurt - and sick.

you sat next to them on the bed, but kiara tried to move away from you. "kiara, we can spend time together on saturday. you know that, right?" you spoke in a soft tone, hoping that she would listen to you, but she shook her head again.

"no, i want it now! i want it today!" she yelled at you and you didn't know what to do anymore. kiara turned back to neuvillette, looking at him with her eyes wet from tears. "please, daddy. i love you, i need you." it was really shocking to see an eight year old kid saying those things, and you knew neuvillette felt the same, because he looked devastated.

"i love you too, dear. i love you so much. please, listen to me." he placed his hand on her cheek, trying to calm her down and make her listen. she couldn't stop sobbing and her voice sounded low and broke when she spoke. "i can't skip work today." she started to panic again but he said a simple "shh" to keep her quiet. "but i will come home earlier so we can do something together, how does that sound?" he looked at her expectantly.

she stayed quiet for a moment, sobbing more softly now, then she looked up at him again. "do you promise?" she asked, in a whisper.

"of course i do." neuvillette smiled reassuringly. kiara sighed and nodded, hugging him again and closing her eyes. "but you'll have to promise that you'll obey your mommy and be nice, okay?" he asked, feeling her little nod.

they pulled away, neuvillette kissed kiara's forehead and smiled at her. she smiled too, but she still looked a bit sad. her eyes swollen and wet from the tears. "i'll go to work and you'll stay here with mommy, alright?" kiara nodded again, pouting very slightly but a lot more calm now. neuvillette got up from her bed.

"good." he said before kissing your cheek and giving you an understanding smile. "i love you two." he said, and you two answered an "i love you too" before he left for work.

you sighed, looking back at the sad little girl hugging herself on her bed. you sat next to her, placing a hand on her forehead and feeling that it was still warm. "are you calmer now?" you asked in a soft tone.

"i'm sorry, mommy. i yelled at you." she said, without looking at your eyes and pouting embarrassedly. you chuckled, caressing her hair. "it's okay. i forgive you." you got up, fixing her blankets around her body and giving her a little kiss on her forehead.

"now, i will give you some medicine so you can get better when daddy gets home, okay?" you said and it looked like that made her a little better, because she smiled weakly at you.

you prepared and gave her medicine, taking care that she would stay with the proper amount of blankets covering her and that the towel cooling her forehead would stay in the proper temperature all the time.

the day passed quickly. when the night was already setting, kiara was already feeling better, sitting on the couch and glancing anxiously at the door.

you were sitting next to her, caressing her hair and trying to calm her down. "hey, come on. be patient." you said in a playful voice and kiara pouted in response. she sighed, looking at her hands, while playing nervously with her fingers. you noticed that.

"what's wrong? why are you feeling so anxious?" you asked, in a soothing and calm voice, trying to look at her eyes. she looked away, shyly. she didn't answer, instead biting her lips trying to calm down. "dear?"

she leaned her head on your chest and you hugged her in response. "i'm nervous." she said, in a whisper, and you felt even more confused. "nervous? why?" you asked, playing with her hair with your fingers. she looked up at you and you saw pure concern on her little eyes.

"do you think daddy is going to like to spend time with me?" she asked, looking at you with those innocent and worried eyes. you couldn't hold your chuckle. "oh, my dear, of course he will." you said and she looked at you expectantly. "he loves to stay with you, but you know it's not his fault, right?" she nodded very slowly. "don't worry. i'm sure that you two are going to have fun." you kissed the top of her head and she gave you a small smile.

at the exact moment, the door opened. kiara quickly turned to look at it, her eyes shining and bright. when neuvillette appeared from behind the door, putting his shoes and suitcase away, kiara jumped out of the couch, running towards him. he immediately dropped his things on the floor, holding her in his arms, preventing her from falling.

"oh!" he let out, startled by the sudden embrace. "kiara, be careful." his voice sounded worried but as soon as the girl wrapped her arms around him in a tight and desperate hug, he smiled, hugging her back.

he picked her up, easily, tightening the hug and kissing her cheek. "are you feeling better now?" he asked, walking towards the couch. kiara nodded, burying her face on his neck. neuvillette sat down on the couch, while kiara kept burying herself into the hug even more.

you, that was sitting on the couch, gave a little kiss on neuvillette's cheek. "i guess someone was excited to see you." you said in a playful voice and kiara hid her face, embarrassed. neuvillette chuckled, hugging kiara even tighter in a soft embrace.

"i missed you too, sweetheart." his voice sounded so sweet while he looked at his lovely daughter. it was clear how much he loved and missed her. "so, what are we going to do?" he asked, looking at her and giving her a reassuring smile. "we can do whatever you want."

kiara looked up at him and she looked unsure, as if she thought about lots of possibilities but none of them looked good enough. she looked down, unable to hide the sad pout forming on her lips. "i don't know." her voice sounded like a whisper.

neuvillette kissed the top of her head. "don't worry. we can think about something now." his voice was so soothing, that even you calmed down when he spoke. you looked at your husband with loving eyes. he was everything you ever asked for.

neuvillette and kiara had fun together. they watched movies and played silly board games, until both of them fell asleep on the couch. kiara leaning her head on her daddy's chest, while he hugged her protectively.

you couldn't take so much cuteness. of course you took lots of pictures before, carefully, waking neuvillette up.

"my love, wake up, you can't sleep here." you tried to whisper in the most low tone you could, so you wouldn't wake up kiara. neuvillette blinked a few times, before looking down at kiara and smiling softly. he kissed her forehead, cuddling her on his arms and picking her up.

"i'll take her to her room." he said to you and left with his daughter in his arms. it took him a few minutes to come back and he had a tired but happy look on his face. you were sitting on the couch and he sat next to you, leaning his head on your shoulder.

"so?" you asked, giving a kiss on top of his head. he looked up at you, pulling your face so he could give a quick kiss on your lips. "it was nice." he said after pulling away. "i should have done this before." his voice sounded a bit guilty and you quickly hugged him.

"you're a great father. you know that, right?" you whispered to him and he smiled softly. "and you're a great mother." he said back to you. you looked into his eyes, smiling proudly of you for having such a perfect family.

his hand reached to cup your cheek, and he leaned in, kissing you in the sweetest way. you sighed between the kiss, leaning in so you could get even closer to him.

"i love you." he said against your lips, and you smiled. "i love you too." it was your turn to make him smile.

you were just two silly lovebirds, sitting on the couch and saying sweet nothings to each other, until you eventually fell asleep in his arms.

you knew that the next day it was all going to start over, but you didn't care. you had the best routine, the best family, the best everything.

you couldn't be more grateful.