#namely I want to SLEEP and maybe soak in a hot bath

[whoreiaki-kakyoin]

going insane and trying to remind myself I can literally see my partner tomorrow. There is a light at the end of the tunnel I just need to finish all my fucking work 😭 there is nothing I want to do less than fucking write papers right now.

[greenandsorrow]

the price for misbehaving (ii)

post rut Alastor x gn!reader

WARNINGS; the aftermath of a very horny fic, mentions of deer mating season, friends to lovers, deer/doe!demon!reader, reader with self worth doubts, a sprinkle of angst, curly-haired!Alastor, undertones of Alastor being a momma's boy, mentions of his past, making out, fluff (literally), there's plot

Dividers by; @saradika-graphics & @cafekitsune

Please do not repost or directly copy my work and don't use it on AI platforms either ❤️

From a smutty oneshot to a multi chap fic. Nothing can compare to the chunkiness of the 1st chapter, but I'm satisfied with this one as well. Enjoy you lovely beings and thanks for being patient with me!!! The art above is by @kalico-of-doom.

~masterpost~

The only time Alastor isn't smiling is when he's sleeping, you have come to realize. You can't help but notice how tired he looks as you lay motionless beside him. You start petting his ears and he groans softly, nuzzling deeper into your touch without even bothering to open his eyes. A small smile forms on his mouth, a real one. Is this really the same man that has been fucking you until your legs stop working?

In the morning you wake up in his bed, a daily occurrence at this point. However, you weren't expecting him to be staring deeply into your contemned soul.

"A- Al?"

Your voice is hoarse from sleep. You scratch your deer ears, flop on your back and stretch. Alastor keeps staring, studying you and every micro expression you make.

You can feel fear creeping into your gut. Is this the end? Is the rutting season gone? Does he want to kill you and eat you now? Will he kick you out? One thing is certain.

He doesn't need you anymore.

After all, you were just a friend helping him go through a difficult time. Nothing more. Still, you would be lying to yourself if you said that you haven't caught any feelings. From his forceful claiming -that hid a great deal of desperation- to his tender love making last night, Alastor has left more than just his mark on you. One could say that he owns you in the most primal and raw of ways, but if he chooses to deny that... -that's all it takes really- then you were nothing but a fucktoy.

"Um... I- I'm gonna take a shower"

Is that you doing the walk of shame? Alastor is a gentleman, why isn't he saying anything?! Not a single thing that could make you feel less terrible about the whole situation!

Now that his hormones have died down and you are far from aroused as well, getting out of bed and standing completely naked in front of him... It makes you feel exposed, vulnerable, small and inferior...

This new emotion, the deep embarrassment that has your face feeling hot and your stomach churning with anxiety makes you dress up and leave "your friend's" room in the speed of light.

You lock yourself in your much smaller room, preparing a bubble bath for your spent and tired body. You smile to yourself a little, remembering how Charlie had made sure you'd have your own bathtub so that you can read your books while soaking in the warm water.

Sinking in the now filled tub, having the water envelope your frame, cleanse your energy and take his scent off of you feels nice. You let your eyes droop until they close lazily, you allow your shoulders to relax, your jaw to unclench.

A long and audible sigh.

Your hands around your frame.

You start crying.

If another deer demon resided in the hotel, he might as well had spent his breeding season with them. You weren't special. The mere thought of such a thing is killing you. You were just another victim of the radio demon's manipulation.

Still, it's your fault as well. For believing this was more than what it appeared to be? Maybe. You are getting more and more confused by the minute.

But oh... the way he had been repeating your name like a prayer... It must mean something to him -you being there for him. You didn't even judge the way he had spilled tears of sexual frustration when handjobs weren't enough to relieve the ache in his loins.

Who else has seen Alastor Hartfelt of Pride under this light? No one. You are the only exception. He wouldn't have allowed you to get so close to him if he didn't trust you... Right?

As your thoughts keep overlapping and fighting with each other and you continue to cry softly, you peak up the all too familiar sound of static.

Another unfair thing! He can melt into shadow and go anywhere he pleases... The sound intensifies as he approaches... you? Is he really thinking of invading your space like that? You can't even cry and be miserable in peace! Not like you're in Hell.

"Bonjou! Konmen s'apé kouri? Huh?"

Not only are you not in the mood to ask him to translate what he just said, but Alastor literally spawned in your bathroom and he's now acting like this is an okay thing to do. The way he's readjusting his lapels and smiling smugly like he wasn't a grunting mess last night infuriates you even further.

"Can you please get the fuck out of here?"

"Mh?" he just stands there in his usual apathy. He's even holding his cane.

"Can you at least stop smiling for a second?"

"Oh ho! I'm afraid I can't do that my deer!"

"But you can definitely get your ass out of my room! I-"

The sound of your voice carries to your ears like a whining child. There's a lump in your throat that you're beginning to fear you won't be able to keep down for much longer. If your face and hair weren't already wet from the bath, then it would be crystal clear that you were weeping like an idiot before he saw himself in.

Alastor is quick to gauge your body language. You're hugging your knees -shielding your naked body from him. Sometimes you swear he can tell your emotional state by sniffing the air around you. It's like your scent is enough for him to piece together the puzzle that you are.

The radio demon scranches his nose.

"What's there to be so sad over y/n? Today is a beautiful day!"

Is he playing stupid?! Because if he's doing this on purpose... Well, there's not much you can do now that he doesn't need you anymore.

Your lower lip trembles at this terrible thought and the lump in your throat escapes your notice, resulting in a broken and weak sob to come out of you.

Tilting his head to the side way more than necessary and squinting his eyes, Alastor asks "Are you pregnant?"

You freeze and widen your eyes. "I- Is that even... even fuckin' possible in the afterlife?"

The fucker chuckles!

"Oh, I don't think so, at least not for lowly demons such as yourself!" The worst part is that he wasn't trying to insult you by saying that, but rather calm you down.

"Go to Hell."

"Ironic."

You can't help it now. You break down in tears. Your chest feels tight as the sobs ripple through your body and make your frame retreat to itself. In addition to your general misery, the water has gone cold, causing you to shiver.

The overlord places his cane against the tiles of the bathroom wall and crouches down so he is level with you. He won't let it show just yet, but Alastor is very worried. There's guilt eating him from the inside.

While he was in musth, in breeding mode -or in whatever you wanna call it-, he wasn't fully aware of his actions. Alastor's mind was blurred from the desire to mate and basically reproduce. Now that he's back to his senses, he has come to the unpleasant realisation that he might have caused you harm in the process of letting out his passion.

And this simply won't do! This deer demon has done cruel and vile things he doesn't even feel particularly bad about... but hurting you... He would never be able to forgive himself.

You were there for him and showed him a great deal of love and understanding.

So, that's the reason you left so hurriedly from his quarters... He hurt you. He hurt you. He hurt you. He hurt you. He hurt you. He hurt you. He hurt you. He hurt you. He hurt you. He hurt you. HE DID THIS TO YOU.

Alastor's permanent grin fades just slightly. It is replaced by concern, evident in the way he looks at your trembling body in the water. He reaches out to gently touch your skin, checking for any signs of pain or discomfort. Your friend's voice softens, it's now filled with genuine worry and regret.

"I'm so sorry darling... I didn't know I caused you... pain."

It's true that you have many bruises and hickeys decorating various places on your body, but that's not the reason behind your breakdown.

"I- It's not th-" you just look down. You can't even explain yourself.

The radio demon's worry only deepens after your vague response and he quickly takes action to be by your side, pulling you out of the bathtub and into a tight hug. Alastor whispers reassurances in your ear, his voice filled with remorse.

"I'm so sorry... We should have stopped when it got too much."

No one has heard Alastor apologize before -not even God, for all that's worth.

His expression softens even further as he sees your tears that just keep coming. He carefully brushes them away, worry etched into every line of his handsome face.

"I didn't mean to make you cry. You must know that."

"I'm not in pain... Just sad."

You do look rather devastated.

Alastor is almost frozen in place from all the guilt since he can now see the bruises forming on your skin. The water camouflaged them, but now they are exposed for him to observe and take in.

He swallows hard, his voice shaking with emotion like never before. "Y/n... I didn't mean to do that. I didn't. None of it."

"None of it?"

Your voice is muffled due to how you have hid your face in his chest. At least he's warm.

"My intention wasn't to cause you injury or physical pain."

You look up at him, finally making eye contact. He's looking at you as well, eyes shining with regret, guilt and what appears to be shame.

What really surprises you, though, is the pleading tone of his voice. It's one thing to be vulnerable because he's hungry for sexual contact and another because he genuinely cares for you.

"Can you ever forgive me for this? I promise, it was never my true intention. I just... I got carried away. And now... It's not an excuse..."

"You really meant none of it to happen between us?"

"Now, now, little deer! Someone's getting ahead of themselves! That's not what I implied at all."

You sigh and settle in his lap.

"Oh mon cher, did you really think I regret our... stimulating times?"

Alastor's long arms press you against him, his clothes absorbing the water on your still bare skin. He then picks you up bridal style and carries you to your bed. It's not king sized like his, but he doesn't seem to care for such details right now.

"Now... Let me see you."

"I said I'm fine!"

"The artist will be the evaluator of his work."

"No Al! Artists get critics to evaluate their work."

"Hmmm, did you say something, dear? Cause I didn't hear you!"

It's a common tactic of his to hide his real feelings by being chatty and pleasant. You of course know that, but in your current state, it's very validating to have him take care of you.

So he did care. And he still does after having stopped necessarily needing you.

Alastor isn't joking around. He's searching your body, subconsciously writing down every scratch, every bruise and hickey, every bite mark.

Ears alert on top of his head, eyes wide open. He can even make out the shape of his fingertips on your hips... He turns you on your stomach only to discover his whole palms are imprinted on your buttocks. Meanwhile, you just allow him to inspect your body for as long as he wishes. All the crying has left you drained but also tranquil and calm.

"I'm fine Al. Really."

"Shhh, I'm not done evaluating the damage."

"It's just a bite or two."

"I drew so much blood..."

"Yes and?"

He just keeps observing, keeps rolling you this way and that. The scratches and the bruises are the most triggering to him. They remind Alastor of unhappy memories -back when he still hadn't taken good care of his father.

As long as he hasn't permanently marked you, it should be fine.

"I'll ask Niffty for some ice."

"N- no... Can we just... sit here? Like... cuddle?"

"You were my solace."

"What-"

He gently presses a finger on your lips to shush you.

"Thank you."

"You don't have to say that. It's not like I helped you with a flat tire or something."

"I don't do cuddling."

"Nor touching for that matter. But... It's not that bad, huh? Just let me put something on first."

You stand up and go to your closet to pick something to put on. Your hair is still wet and your legs still feel sore from your intense moments -but it was a big relief to know he still wants you in his life now the rut has ended.

Alastor's behaviour makes you wonder. He's contradictory. From fucking your throat in his radio station, to bending you over various objects in the hotel, taking you in missionary, against walls, windows and doors, he still seems pretty reluctant to give himself to intimacy. Unlike those times, his mind is now clear -no overwhelming heat involved. Intimacy equals vulnerability ...and to him vulnerability equals pain. The inevitable way in which things had worked out in his life.

"But we did sleep together until yesterday."

The radio demon cannot deny you. He's already sat at the edge of your bed, taking off his coat, shoes and anything else that could make the experience any less enjoyable.

"I wish I could say you'll take this to your grave."

You grin brightly and chuckle at his silly, little remark. Your confidence has been restored -to an extent- after he made it clear that he does concern himself with your wellbeing.

"But why don't you like being touched? Physical contact is a form of affection."

"Or a form of punishment, of intimidation, domination and... many other vile things, my dear deer..." His voice is too low for your liking as he says that.

You don't know what burdens Alastor's shoulders, but it can't be good -and I'm not even referring to his own cruelty and the pain he has inflicted on others. Maybe his opinion on physical contact is connected to the endless scars on his body.

"Oh well whatevs Al. I just want my cuddles."

The way his ears are pulled back and he looks at you almost like he's a shy and innocent boy makes your heart bit faster. At least there's no velvet rubbing off his antlers this time.

Alastor is extremely gentle and cautious in the way he handles you this time. He lays down on his back and you use his chest as a pillow.

It's a cozy place.

His chest. He has some fluff there, just like Angel, but unlike the former, he hides it under layers of clothing and keeps it unstyled. Still, it's undoubtedly soft and fuzzy and you like to sink your hand in it or swirl the soft fur around your fingertips. The radio demon isn't complaining -as one would expect. It's soothing to have someone touch his body in a non-hostile manner. It's refreshing to have someone appreciate his body as it is.

Would you also appreciate it if you saw him as he once was?

His father hadn't. He could handle the child of a mixed marriage, but Alastor wasn't just mixed, but also looked the part -and according to the racist beliefs of his father in the 1900's, that was a bad thing.

As you're happily nuzzled against his long and elegant neck, your friend's mind wanders. You lived during the 90's. What would it have been like if he had also lived during that period? Everything would have been different. The town he grew up in, his relationship with his parents, his career as a radio host -and a serial killer.

"Did you know that my hair is naturally curly?"

Your ears perk up at that and Alastor gently takes hold of them and pulls at them from the root, just slightly.

"That feels nice..."

"Oh I know."

"What were you saying?"

"Oh yes, my hair's curly! Since I was nothing but a tiny, adorable, baby boy! ...my mother... she..."

His hand lets go of your ears and you can feel the rise and fall of his chest as he takes a deep breath and lets it out in a long sigh.

There's a melancholy about him now and you feel the need to comfort him. He's opening up to you by being genuine and vulnerable. Alastor is sharing a part of who he used to be and the least you can do is listen. You resume your activities on his fluff, almost massaging the area. He seems to like it, for a moment closing his eyes and letting a sound like purring.

"Can you keep this up?"

"Sure Al."

"Merci. What was I saying...? Oh yes, of course... Mama and my curly mop."

The radio effect of his voice and his arms around you make you feel like you're a kid being told a bedtime story.

It's a good thing the other residents have gotten used to you and Alastor disappearing together for long periods of time. His soft chest fluff under the pads of your fingers only intensifies the feeling of being told a story while tucked in bed, warm and safe from the outside world.

"It's truly amazing how much power is given to hair in certain cultures. In my culture, dear y/n, hair texture served as an indicator of social status. My family -a wedding between a white man and a creole woman of colour... Oh ho dear! It was something else back then...-

As a kid, I was always the one teased for having “weird hair”, as if it didn’t match my other facial features. When school began, my sweet mama, she... she would put my hair in locs to protect the curls. Apparently, they didn't like that at school! So my father... he -radio static intensifies- he made my mother shave it. He claimed that if my mother and I wore our hair differently, then no one would take us seriously."

You take a moment to digest this new piece information. It's true that locs enclose the natural hair and help it stay intact. It's also true that Alastor grew up in a time when it was very difficult to be of a cultural background which was different to the majority's. You choose to not comment on anything -that's not your job.

You swirl some more of his fluff around your fingertips before moving your hand to his hair.

"Well, it's not curly in the afterlife."

You feel the vibration of his chuckle through your check that's resting on his chest.

"But it is!"

Alastor lets out a satisfied sound as he presses you even tighter against him and begins rumbling about his hair care routine. He uses anti frizz oils, heat protection oils and then blow dries it. Truth is, that's just the steps you managed to actually register in your brain, because a sleepiness started overtaking you as you stayed laying in his embrace.

You're now fading between consciousness and unconsciousness. It almost feels like you're floating. Is this what Heaven is like?

Maybe it is. Maybe it is not. But you did manage to find your little oasis in Hell. And so did he.

Alastor looks down at your much smaller frame curled up against him. Your breath has slowed down and your eyes are closing. Why does it feel so warm and soft to have you close to him like this? He knows he shouldn't be letting his guard down, but he can't help it when it comes to you.

The radio demon is enamoured with you.

Wanting to make the experience even cozier and dreamier for his favourite sinner, Alastor starts singing quietly. His sense of rhythm is immaculate and his jazzy tunes make you fall sound asleep in no time whatsoever.

When you wake up an hour or so later, he still hasn't moved, but he acknowledges that you're awake with a small hum.

"Oh wakey wakey my darling y/n!" had been his usual response to you waking up while he was in the rut. However, right now he appears to be much more unguarded and raw than his usual persona -no need to put up a show. You haven't even woken up properly and you're already wondering about this new side of him.

"Al? Is everything okay?"

"Oh why, yes it is, but there's this thought occupying my brilliant mind..."

"Care to share it with my not so brilliant one?"

You expected him to laugh or even chuckle, but Alastor goes straight to the point.

"All this... making love and we still haven't kissed. Not really."

Kissing him would mean you actually view him romantically and whatever "friends with benefits" situation you have going on will be destroyed. That's not a bad thing though. Despite your initial fears of your fellow deer demon being too emotionally unavailable and only needing you to calm down the torment of his lust, a kiss wouldn't hurt. Kisses are good.

"We can change that y'know."

You make the first step by leaning towards him, basically giving him the green light that you're consenting to this. Alastor notices it and wastes no time, pressing his lips against yours while wrapping his arms around you and pulling you close into another embrace. He smiles widely as you kiss, his head tilting slightly as he runs his fingers through your hair. After a few seconds pass, he pulls his head back, slowly breaking the kiss as he looks into your eyes with a broad smile -that reaches his eyes.

"Aren't you delightful?!" and he dives back in.

Alastor's second kiss with you is firm and passionate -but not overly aggressive. His lips are warm and he seems to enjoy the intimacy of it -taking his time to explore your mouth. As the kiss progresses, he gradually increases the pressure of his lips on yours. His arms wrap around your waist and his tongue slowly wanders further into the welcoming heat of your mouth.

Once again -just like when it came to sex-, you have come to the conclusion that Alastor isn't that experienced, but some raw power -an instinct if you will- provides him with the ability to do all the right moves at the right time.

And then, you just break character. You burst into laughter. His large and pointed ears twitch at that change of pace.

"When I thought I was doing a good job~"

"Oh no, that's not it at all. I'm just happy." You're giddy and so is he.

Maybe not needing you but actually wanting you isn't the worst case scenario.

To be continued.

Support your struggling gal! Your tips keep me motivated to write and help me go through each day! Thanks🫶 CLICK HERE(PayPal link)

my masterlist || Hazbin Hotel masterlist❤️

tag list; @stygianoir @aperfectidiot @lady-valtieri @what-0-life @clowncollegealum @whatinthepluto @dragonqueenfk @ajajajabdjsjx @ellie-x0xo @1rxsemary1 @ermmmwhattheflipguys @kimkimmm2411 @sukaretto-n @randomuser-89 @crowleysthings @ratskinsuit @mariaclarade-la-cruz1 @ilikemyteawithmilk @dennsfz @dontevenknowwhyimhere @sirens-and-moonflowers @diffidentphantom

[kirke-is-my-name]

Hello! Can i request headcandons of Miguel o'hara with a shy nurse reader who is constantly tired? Being nurse is a physically and mentally demanding job and i love the dynamic of hero who falls over his heels for his nurse or even being protective over her, but if u don't want to make this request i understand

I’m so sorry I just saw this! But of course let’s see what I can think of 😌

A nurse reader who is dating Miguel would honestly have a terrible sleep schedule like him.

Like poor baby is working 24,48 or 72 hour shifts at the hospital. And often times hardly sleeps so when you are home it’s time for rest and relaxation

When working those longer shifts Miguel makes it his job to arrive home at least 90 minutes before you, so he can not only prepare a bath with all your favorite soaks. But also a hot home cooked meal. Because god damn it you deserve something nice

If you need something? He will get it. You need to rant about your shift? Don’t worry he is a good listener. You need to cook dinner? Nonsense sit down and he will cook.

Two sleep deprived lovers whatever will they do!?Sleep…they sleep can only sleep if the other is in bed with them.

If you start nodding off he will carry you to the bed. And if you refuse to sleep he will sit in the bed with you and do some work or also fall asleep.

Has Lyla constantly keep watch at your hospital to alert him if anything is wrong.

Oh you haven’t eaten? You have a DoorDash under you name within the hour. Running out of medical supplies? Nonsense someone just bought some for your entire department . You had to deal with a very hard patient? Woah look at that someone sent you flowers. Someone threatened you? That’s so weird they ended up in the police station brushed and hurt…

He is whipped

Knowing he is spiderman and seeing the damage his villain can do to others really only makes you appreciate him more. Granted if an innocent person is harmed you are chewing him out. He might of gone to your work a few time as both Spider-Man and Miguel asking for your help to patch him up. The one time he tried to fix his injuries himself you scolded him at doing such a bad job that you insist on patching him up every night if you have to.

Honestly? His favorite time watching your hands move to maybe sow together a cut that’s rather deep. Or even wrapping him up, his just looks down fondly at you as patch him up and talk about whatever is on your mind. But if he is being a little shit his wrappings or thread might be pulled a bit too tight.

Both of you acknowledging the other has a difficult job, but Miguel thinks you are stronger then him in every sense. While he saves the multiverse he doesn’t personally interact with the people. You though…you talk to them and get to know the people. He saves the world but you save the people.

It gets hard losing a patient who was a kid or someone you’ve bonded with. Often times you’ve cried at their passing. But you have a job to do and as quickly as you cried, the tears vanish and you continue your job. For that alone Miguel believes you are stronger . To truck on after losing someone and still maintaining a friendly demeanor and positive attitude. Even when you know the situation won’t get better. Is something he knows he couldn’t do but you can. So when you cry and are tired he comforts you in every way he can. Because one person can only strong for a certain amount of time before it gets to them.

One time someone took a picture of Spider-Man with you in his arms. For WEEKS your coworker and patient cornered you asking if you know the masked hero. You stuck with the story “noI just patch him up really?!” Of course a villain saw that picture and though it was a bright idea to kidnap you and use you against Miguel…bad idea. Sure you are a nurse and SHOULD be helping the injured but after seeing the damage Miguel left you turned your head and said “Im off the clock so I can’t help them”

Bonus

You needed new scrubs so Lyla order a spider-man themed scrubs for you. Honestly got a nice laugh out of it and you wear them at least once a week.

Another time your lunch happened to be the Miguel Burger and attached was a small strawberry also designed like Miguel. It cheered you up for sure

[hinatastinygiant]

27 | मौत

Pairing: Uzui x Fem!Reader

The Emptiness You Left

When you and Uzui return home, the house is quiet. "The others must already be asleep," Uzui comments as he shuts the door behind you both. You nod and, without even parting your lips, take your leave from his side and walk up the stairs.

Once you reach the safety of the bathroom, you slink down against the door and sigh. You can't help but wonder why you decided to kiss him. Perhaps it was his words of encouragement, or maybe it was just the heat of the moment. Either way, it has made everything at least a hundred times worse.

By the time you get into the bath, you can't help but notice how silent the house is. You haven't even heard a sound since you got upstairs. Uzui must be feeling the weight of your kiss, too. Or perhaps he's just sleeping.

Part of you still can't believe it actually happened. It was real, right?

The water you are soaking in is still hot and soothing. You look over at the mirror across the room and notice how steamed up the small space has become. It's quite calming for your muscles and does help you relax after the long day. You then dip your head under the water, shutting your eyes as you disappear from sight. All you can see in your mind's eye is him.

The way his skin felt against yours.

The way his lips tasted.

The way his hair felt in your hands.

The way his fingers brushed across your skin.

The way he smelled.

How his voice sounded when he whispered your name...

All of it. Everything.

Suddenly, you emerge from the water with a gasp. You wipe the water from your eyes, breathing heavily as you catch your breath. But the memory of his touch still lingers. You wish you could have more. You crave more.

Slowly, you pull yourself out of the tub. It wasn't enough to clear your mind. So, after getting dressed, you decide to head back downstairs instead. You know you won't be able to go to bed right now anyway. But of course, as you walk into the kitchen, he's still there.

"Hey," you smile softly as you enter the room and walk past him to grab the teapot. "Want any tea?"

"If you're going to make some then sure but don't go out of your way," he shrugs as he watches you begin preparing the tea.

You can't help but chuckle. "It's not out of my way," you shake your head. "It's the middle of the night, Master. It's not like I've got something better to do."

"Not even sleep?" he smirks.

"I can't remember the last time I had a full night's rest," you reply, placing the kettle on the stove.

"I think I know how you feel," he nods. "But you should still try."

"Don't worry, I'll be fine," you shrug.

You continue to prepare the tea and, once it is ready, serve a cup for him and a cup for you. Then, as you sit beside him, you drink your tea in silence. You suppose there's not much to say after everything that happened before, but you can't help but wish things were a bit less awkward between the two of you.

"You shouldn't look so worried," he then says to you after placing his empty cup back on the table. "I'm not going to tell the girls just yet."

"You're not?" you gulp, trying to hide your face behind the small cup. "Why?"

"There's something else more important right now. I've thought about it some since the cave earlier tonight," he begins to explain rather cryptically.

"What is it?" you ask a bit too eagerly. He can sense right away how desperate you are for answers.

"There's something you need to know," he continues. "Before the final selection, I am going to give you one final test of my own. It will test your strategy, adaptability, and stamina. Do you think you are up to the challenge, Y/N? Think about this seriously, don't just rush into it without using your own judgment."

"I, uh," you begin rather hesitantly. Though you've been able to fight some demons, you're not quite sure what kind of challenge he's going to put you up against. "Yes, Master. I am."

"Very well," he nods. "Tomorrow evening you will meet Rengoku in town."

"Master Rengoku?" you repeat. "What for?"

Uzui sighs, in a way that makes you believe he's not so sure about this so-called challenge. "Because I'm putting you back inside that cult."

You stand up quickly, knocking your chair over as you look at him in utter shock. "What?! What are you talking about?"

"That's not the only thing, either," he adds without glancing up at you. "You're going to have to give Doma a reason to keep you around. He knows little about you, but the things he does know are significant."

"How am I supposed to do that?" you gulp, thinking back to the way he nearly snatched your own life away from you. What reason could he ever have to let you return and live?

"Rengoku will tell you that later," he sighs.

"Why can't you? Why aren't you going with me?" you then ask, your eyes wide with confusion.

"Because I can't," he shakes his head as he rises to his feet and turns to face you. "It's best I stay out of it, and I know I can trust Rengoku to do his job properly."

"Oh," you frown, not quite understanding.

"But what I can tell you," he hums as he lifts his right hand up to your cheek, "is that I don't agree with this plan. In fact, I quite hate it. But it is Master Ubuyashiki's so we have to follow it."

"So why did you agree to it in the first place?" you ask, furrowing your brows.

"Because I think there is more at stake here than we both realize," he explains, his thumb brushing softly against your bottom lip.

"What's going to happen to me?" you wonder aloud, your eyes swelling with tears as you look up at him.

"You're going to save your brother. Just like you wanted."

One at a time, your tears fall from your eyes and down onto your cheeks. His words hit your heart hard, causing an immense amount of pain and grief to flood your entire body.

"It will be dangerous," he sighs. "You really should get some rest until then."

After that, Uzui takes a step back and turns to walk out of the room. However, before he can get too far, you grab him but the hand and spin him around. This may be the very last time you ever see him. So you might as well...

Without another thought, you rise up on your feet and kiss him. At first, he freezes, unsure of how to react. But soon enough, his lips move against yours and his arms wrap around your waist.

But just like that, it's quickly over. He pulls away and lets out a sigh. "Y/N, don't make this any harder for me than it already is," he tells you, kissing your forehead.

"I'm sorry, but I-"

"You have nothing to apologize for," he tells you, placing his forehead against yours. You allow your eyes to close as he takes your hand in his and holds it tightly. "You are so special to me. You're my student. And I hate that I have to let you go."

Again, tears roll down your cheeks. "I know. I just- I don't know what I'm doing, Master. I want to do this, but at the same time, I'm scared."

"Me too," he admits."But being here, this isn't the life for you. You need your brother. I will always love you but it's time for you to go."

You can feel his words break your heart. Why can't this be your life? Why can't you save your brother and come back here>

"Y/N," he then continues, as if hearing your thoughts. "If I don't let you go now, I will lose myself."

"What's wrong with that?" you chuckle, trying to find comfort in this situation.

"Do you really want an old man like me?" he smiles softly back at you.

You can't help but roll your eyes. "Master, you're only two years older than I am."

"It's not the age, Y/N," he explains. "It's the experience. Being with you is like nothing I've ever felt before. I meant what I said, I truly will lose myself. I will forget who I am and what I stand for, all for you."

With that, he takes a step back and lets go of your hand. "This is goodbye."

"No, wait!" you shake your head, not wanting this moment to end. "Please, can't we just talk for a little while longer?"

"We've talked long enough, Y/N," he insists. "It's time to sleep."

Like all other things he's said, you ignore him and do the opposite. You reach upwards to wrap your arms around his neck and pull him into a deep kiss that has him stumble in surprise. Your hands slide up to his cheeks as you keep him close, not wanting him to leave.

"Please," you whisper. "Just one night?"

He pauses and then gives in, placing his hands on your waist.

"I will come back," you whisper as your hands find his hair. "I promise."

"Y/N," he breathes against your lips, his grip only tightening on you.

"Shh," you whisper as you bring your hands to his chest. "Please, just let me have this."

Without another word, Uzui spins you around until you are caged in between him and the wall. His lips travel down your neck, to your shoulder, and then back up. He runs his hands all over your body, and you can't help but moan at the feeling.

"Fuck," he breathes as he kisses you deeply, his tongue pushing past your lips and into your mouth. You let him take control as he kisses you, his hands finding their way under your shirt.

When he pulls away, you're breathless. "If you do come back, it will be the last time I will ever let you go."

The Emptiness You Left

[saintgoo]

Three ways to say "I love you" ☆

PAIRING: JJ Maybank x Fem!Reader

GENRE: Fluff, Hurt/Comfort

WARNINGS: None

A/N: it's literally so cold so all I can do is go under the blankets and write stuff😭 enjoy!!!

Summary: The three times JJ showed how much he loved you without needing to say it.

wc: 1.5k ★ ... masterlist

ONE:

The waves were choppy, the sea sounded like thunder bathed in the lunar light. The pogues had just returned from a party at a nearby beach, too drunk to go home alone, they all decided to sleep at John B's chateau.

Sarah and John B were playing tag when they arrived, going to the beachfront even though it was night. "What are they doing?" Pope questioned, leaving his backpack next to the residence stairs. Kiara shrugged and looked at them. “Too drunk and too in love by the way it looks.”

You left your bag next to Pope's, sitting on the stairs to take off your shoes that had been bothering you since the party. You looked around to locate your boyfriend, only to be met with nothing. “Yo, where’s JJ?” You furrowed your eyebrows.

"Over there, by the water's edge," Pope replied, nodding toward the shore. "He said somethin’ about skipping rocks in the moonlight."

“Oh god, he's going to end up hurting himself in the way he is” You laughed “I'll make sure he doesn't fall or anything.”

You strode down to the water's edge, feet sinking into the cool wet sand as the waves lapped at your ankles. Up ahead, JJ's silhouette swayed in the pale glow of the moon as he lifted rocks from the shoreline.

"Hey, any luck skipping those?" you called out.

"The stone glides smoothly acroszz the sssurface," JJ slurred, flinging another pebble haphazardly into the surf. "Not a sssingle bounce to be found."

"Maybe ease up on the liquor there, dude" you chuckled. "At this rate the only thing getting skipped is you if you keep pitching rocks into the tide."

JJ squinted at you through blue eyes, a crooked grin emerging. "You tryin' to steal my thunder, [Name]? Think you c'n do better?"

You rolled your eyes playfully, not wanting to provoke the drunk boy. “Oh no, honey. I'll never be better than you... don't you think it's better to go back to the chateau and do this tomorrow? It’s too late.”

“But it's still early!" JJ exclaimed dramatically, a pout on his lips like a child. You walked close to him, taking the rock from his hand and wrapping your arms around his neck. “It’s already 2 am, let’s go in, babe.”

You dropped the stone on the ground and grabbed his hand, trying to take him to the chateau, but he had another idea as he gently pulled you by the hand and collided you with him, grabbing you by the hips and throwing you onto his shoulders.

“JJ, put me down now!” You cried between laughs, feeling your clothes being soaked as they were impacted by the waves.

“Oh darling, don't be like that, the sea is callin’ uss…” he smiled, throwing you into the water without warning, holding your waist as he drowned in laughter.

You emerged from the water, your hair wet and your makeup smudged. You tried to look angry, but quickly failed to let your smile appear, pointing your finger at him accusingly. “You're so dead, Maybank!”

“You wouldn't lay a finger on me, doll” he said, suddenly sounding sober. He pulled you by the waist your bodies collided.

Your clothes clung heavily to your skin as JJ pulled you against his frame, the crashing waves swirling about your tummy.

"And just what do you think you're doing, Maybank?" you narrowed your eyes, though his proximity made your breath quicken.

JJ fixed you with a piercing blue stare, fingers tracing idle patterns along your waist. "Dunno, just feel like dancin' under the moonlight with my girl."

You sucked in a breath as his touch sent sparks through your dampened limbs. "Oh? And since when have I been 'your girl'?"

A low chuckle rumbled in JJ's chest. "Since the moment I laid eyes on you, darlin." His head dipped lower, hot breath ghosting your lips.

Heart pounding, you tangled your hands in his sodden shirt, desire and irritation warring within. "You insufferable ass, I fucking hate you."

Your words hovered between you, anticipation crackling in the narrow space that remained. Then, slowly, mercilessly, JJ's smiling mouth met your own in a searing kiss that made the bay's icy waters feel balmy by comparison.

When you broke apart, you were quick to hide your face in his neck. “I look like a mess…” your voice muffled by JJ’s wet clothes.

He removed your face from his neck, lifting your gaze as he placed his finger on your chin. “The prettiest mess.”

TWO:

Warmth enveloped you as consciousness slowly emerged from the fog of sleep. Blinking blearily, memories of the previous night came rushing back.

A smile crept onto your lips as you burrowed deeper into firm muscle and cotton sheets. JJ's steady breathing stirred your damp hair, his arms secure about your bare waist. You turned gently in his hold to glimpse his face, relaxed in slumber. He looked years younger sans smirk or swagger, boyish features softened in repose.

Trailing light fingers across his stubbled jaw, you pondered how you had arrived at this moment. JJ had always stirred something primal within - thrilling yet terrifying in equal measure. But beneath his rough exterior beat a heart of gold, a loyalty you couldn't help but crave.

As the morning sun crested over the horizon, JJ began to stir. Those fathomless blue eyes blinked open, drowsy and confused at first, then lighting with joy upon meeting your gaze.

"Mornin', beautiful," he rasped, sleep rough voice sending shivers down your spine.

"Morning," you smiled shyly, still half expecting this moment of intimacy to dissipate like a dream upon waking.

But JJ only held you closer, nuzzling his nose against your neck until you dissolved into giggles. "Sleep well?"

"Best I've had in ages," you admitted softly. Fingers trailing down his chest, you traced swirling patterns over tan skin and ropey muscle.

JJ shuddered almost imperceptibly at your touch, large hands tracing your own curves with featherlight reverence. "Last night...this morning...everything just feels right with you, like I'm exactly where I'm meant to be."

Your heart swelled almost painfully at the rare display of vulnerability in those crystalline eyes. "Oh JJ..."

Cupping your jaw, he locked your gazes with an intensity that stole your breath. "You're my everything, [Name].”

You hugged him that morning, feeling all the emotions flow through your body electrically. The rest, as they say, is history.

THREE:

You kicked off your shoes aggressively enough to leave a mark on your heel. Fresh tears spilled from your eyes and soaked your entire face.

You let small sobs escape as you made your way to your bed, letting your body slump and your face sink into the pillow pathetically.

You needed that job. All your sleepless nights working in that restaurant for nothing, the senseless scolding you heard from your boss for nothing. Your father was going to kill you when he found out that you had wiped out your only source of money, and you were slowly falling into despair knowing that that night he would come home and you would have to tell him the news.

Exhausted, you let the tears come out unhindered. At some point, your door opened revealing JJ, who already knew you had been fired when you told him via text. He had a bag of sweets in his hands, and when he saw your condition, he dropped it on the floor and walked towards you, climbing on top of you and placing his face in the crook of your neck.

JJ's body curled protectively around yours as you wept, soaking the collar of his shirt with tears. He gripped you tightly, as if willing his strength to seep into your bones through sheer force of will.

"Shhh, I've got you darlin', just let it out," he whispered into your hair. His hands traced soothing circles over your quaking form, lingering in all the places he knew could ease tension from your aching muscles.

Slowly, your sobs began to peter out, exhaustion leeching the will to despair from your pores. But where the anguish had seeped away, JJ's steady presence flooded in to fill the void - his sturdy warmth, the callouses of his palms, familiar scent of sea and motor oil wrapped around your senses like a security blanket.

As your breathing calmed, JJ leaned back just enough to cup your swollen face between his hands and press kisses to each damp eyelid. "Look at me, sweetheart. We're gonna fix this, you hear? Fuck that bastard boss of yours. I'm here with you, okay? Always."

His blue eyes shone with defiance, determination to lift you where you could not yourself. And in that gaze you found solace, an anchor when the world felt tipped. Clinging to his shirt, you nodded tiredly. He wiped away your remaining tears, smiling and kissing your forehead gently, hugging you in that moment.

[jazz-miester]

Veni Vidi Amavi

Pairing: Doom Slayer x Reader

Reader type: Gender neutral

Song:

Warnings:

An: Let me know if y'all want a link to the Wattpad or Ao3 version lol.

You spoke my name like it was holy. Like it was a tangible sense of salvation

"I clung to your hands so that something human might exist in the chaos. "

Hélène Cixous, from Olivier De Serres A Single Passion Two Witnesses," Love Itself: In the Letter Box (Polity Press, 2008)

You were home sitting at the dinner table. The one you having seen since you were a child. You smoothed your hand over the wooden table. It was both warm and cool to the touch.

When did you get here? How did you get here? You traced a finger over your name. Carved into the table when you were eight and just this side of unsupervised.

What happened to the demons? Was it all a nightmare?

But what about him. The Slayer? How does one imagine him?

Someone passed you a bowl of mashed potatoes. The baby blue bowl hot and heavy in your hands. You took the spoon and scooped some out. Dropping a large portion to you plate.

When did those green beans turn to corn? Maybe it was always corn.

You go for more and drop the spoon. Blood spills over your plate. The silver spoon covered in it.

The bowl falls from your grasp. Shatters as it hits the table. Soaks your lap and chest with blood.

You try to tell. To scream. It stick in your throat and claws at your tongue.

Desperation consumes you.

You reach for your father's hand in your panic. It's cold to the touch. You look up. Your body stills. Felling as if you dunked yourself into a pool of ice water.

That was not your father.

An Imps head looks back to you. Beady eyes and sharp toothed grin.

You go to stand. The chair clattering to the floor. The sound stalls your heart.

The Imp claws at your arm. Red rivers stream from your arm.

Pain.

Hurt.

Terror.

A flash of green.

.

You woke drenched in sweat and shivering. Chest heaving with the pounding of your heart. You wear heavy. Laden with lead. Not one part of you wanted to move. Feeling as if your were chained to the bed.

A sob racked through your throat. You felt sick. Shivering and shaking in the bed. A whimper leaves your lips.

You press your hand to your chest. To your lap. Feeling for anything akin to the blood that soaked you.

Nothing but your own sticky skin.

You sit up. Glance about the room. Trying to find something. Anything to help hold the terror at bay. You settle with your pillow. Hold it in your arms close to your chest. You buried your face in it. Body curls in on itself.

Dimly you are aware of your door opening. Soft blue light bathing your room from the hallway. You glance up.

The Slayer, still out of his amour. You shuffle closer to the back of your bed. Your back now flushed with the freezing wall. He stops at the foot of your bed and picks up a blanket you kicked off in your sleep.

Why was he here?

He stops closer. Pauses. Waits then comes to the left of you and sits and the edge of the bed. He's close enough you can feel the heat rolling off his body. You shiver. Suddenly aware of how cold you are.

The Slayer says nothing. Places the blanket next to him. You watch the shifting of his muscles. Moving like water beneath his skin. More so, you see the scars. Crossing and hatching across his back.

Those would have taken a lifetime to gather. Just what has this man been through?

There was a weird t like symbol between his shoulder blades. Like someone had branded him.

Without thinking you move. The pillow still in your grasp as you sit cross legged behind him. Stiling to see if he would move.

He didn't. Instead he grabbed ahold of something wound a round his neck. The metal chain clinking together in the silence of the room.

Slowly. Softly you press a finger to one of the scars in his back. He tensed and you pull away as if struck. He stills. You do it again. Nothing.

If anything he leans into it. Almost moving with you as you travel over them. Feeling raised skin and smooth scaring. You press your palm to the largest one. Streaming from his left shoulder down to his right hip. Vaugly you are aware of it wrapping around. Disappearing into the fabric of his pants.

You say that but the material looks soft. Silky, almost.

"What happened?" Your voice wavers. Catching against another choking sob. Slowly. Every so slowly your body was calming.

Safe.

He felt safe.

In answer he shifts his body towards you. One leg sitting on the bed the other planted firmly to the floor.

He takes your hand into his own. With the other he ghosts his fingers over your wrist. Still discolored and bruised from the cuffs.

But healing. Just as you are.

He looks to you. Envelops your hands in his. Sacred and heavy. Calloused and worn. But sturdy. Strong.

Safe.

"You are strong." His voice catches you off guard. Deep and rolling like thunder in the distance.

Your face burns and you look away. You don't feel very strong. Far from it honestly.

He grunts. Squeezes your hands. The next thing you knew you were being carried. Head resting on his chest as he hooks one arm beneath your knees and the other across your shoulders.

"I. What are you doing?" He says nothing. Still looking forward. You can see the faint hint of stubble on his chin. A small crescent moon scar is in his jaw.

You look around. Begin to notice the familiarity of the hallway you are in. "Are you taking me to the baths?" You say that as it it's not just a giant swimming pool. He responds with another grunt.

The Slayer carries you through the threshold of the door. Gently sets you down on your feet and points to the water.

"Are you telling me to take a bath?" A nod. "Why?" In response he plugs his nose with one hand and waves with the other. "Oh. So now I smell?" A small smile tugs at your lips.

"This is you getting back at me for saying that you stunk huh." He shrugs. Waves his hand in a so so gesture. "Well then. Get out." You push on his back. "Go on." Your giggling now. Trying to push your whole body weight into his.

You hear him laugh. Rolling and deep from his chest. It warms you to know that a man such as he could still find humor in things

"Oh c'mon! You're like, a billion times bigger than me!" He steps forward and you stumble. He turns. Laughs again. You stick your tongue out and for a moment you feel like yourself again. Before all of this. The literal end of the world.

You're happy. Having fun. Like you would with a friend.

You notice he has a goofy smile on his face. Making him appear younger. Less worn and tired.

Less of the weight of the world on his shoulders. And it might as well be. Going back time and again to fight this demons. To try to save earth. You are glad to see it lightened. Even for a moment.

It is then you notice the dog tags resting on his chest.

"You were in the military?" It's out. His face falls. A shielded wall once more. Guilts floods you.

Obviously not a good topic. How had you not notice them before? Did he just now put them on?

"M'sorry. I didn't mean-"

"Marines." He speaks. Soft and low.

You don't say anything. Just watch as he pulls them from around his neck. He shows you the dull and dented metal.

"Flynn B.J Taggart" You speak softly. Revenetly. He was giving you his name.

You snort.

"B.J?" He gently shoved your shoulder. Albeit chuckling himself.

He looks to you. Taps you chest. You smile.

"Y/n. Y/n M/n L/n." You look up through your lashes. Tilt your chin. Watch as he mouths the words.

In the dim lighting you catch the color of his eyes. A soft blue. Like looking up at the summer sky.

"Y/n." He smiles around your name. Speaks it as if it were a prayer. "Y/n." He says it again. You laugh. Smack at his arm.

"You say it anymore and it'll wear out." He grins.

"Y/n." He says it low and deep. Leans down to say it near your ear. A shiver runs through you. "Y/n." He says it again.

Flynn decided that in that moment. He would never tire of your name. Of you. Of that feeling deep in his chest.

And oh. That color darkening your face. And the shy look away you do with your eyes when your nervous.

"Slayer. There has been sighting of demonic activity near the arc base in Illinois. Should I start the portal." Vegas voice rang through the room and you heart all but jumped from your chest.

You coukd have sworn you heard The Slayer. Flynn. Growl.

"Well. I do have to take that bath." You spoke. He fixes you with a look. You look away again. Back up. Give a lopsided smile.

He presses a hand to the top of your head. Brings it down to cup your chin.  Draws his thumb just below your lower lip.

"Stay safe. Please." Before you could lose the courage you press a kiss to his cheek. Turn and leave to go get some clothes.

You were really going to need that bath now.

The Slayer was stunned. Frozen in place. It felt as if fire ran through him. Tingled the tips of his fingers. He touches the place your lips touched. Scruff scratched his fingers.

What did you mean by that? That kiss.

That fire reignited in his chest. That feeling increased ten fold.

He shook his head.

He had a job to go do.

Suiting up was quick and easy. An old habit mostly done my muscle memory at this point.

He stopped in front of the portal shotgun in hand. You words echoed in his thoughts.

"Stay safe. Please."

He thumbed the safety of the gun. Stepped through the portal.

Safe. Whole.

He had something worth coming back to now.

[ohbuckie]

FLUORESCENT ADOLESCENT III

(first chapters are not a necessary read prior to this one)

college!bucky x fem!reader

summary: bucky fucks you in his desk chair during online class.

warnings: smut, oral (m receiving)

word count: 1.8k

masterlist

You lay on his bed while he’s in class—phone in hand, shirt of his over your shoulders, boxers hanging from your hips. It’s early, and you’re only half-awake because he has nowhere else to sit through his 8:00 AM philosophy class.

At his desk across the room, his top is bare and his legs are only covered by flannel pajama pants. His hair is sticking up in all directions, and he brings a mug of steaming coffee to his lips once every minute or two. His brow furrows as he concentrates on the work, and he presses his lips into a thin line while he answers a question in a Google doc. You stand, silently press a kiss to his temple, pad into the bathroom to clean your body of last night.

Water beats against the tile wall opposite the shower head while you undress, sticking your hand under the stream to feel the temperature until it’s warm enough to step in. You soak your hair, rub your eyes, let the water break off into tributaries that pool at your feet before disappearing into the plumbing. Your shoulders are heavy and a yawn heaves your chest upwards, reminding you of the poor sleep you had, thanks to Bucky’s inability to share a blanket.

You take your time scrubbing your scalp, listening to the soap slap the floor and watching it circle the drain while you rinse. Twenty minutes brings you freshness, and another two spent at the sink bring you minty breath. With a towel wrapped around your body, you walk out of the bathroom and step into Bucky’s room, closing the door behind yourself.

You feel his eyes on you while you dress, but he stays quiet. His professor drones on about existentialism, with his boring voice and a vaguely New England accent. When you’ve decided on your outfit for the day—another one of his shirts with only a pair of cotton panties, since it’s raining and you can’t go anywhere—you stand beside him, kissing his head.

“Hungry?” You ask quietly, so as not to speak over his class. He shakes his head. You ruffle his hair, turning to lay back down until he’s finished, but a hand on your wrist stops you. “Hm?”

He tilts his chin up and puckers his lips, inviting you down for a kiss. You grin and press your mouth to his carefully, cradling his head. The sweet gesture is soon anything but sweet, when he shoves his tongue through your parted lips and runs it along the back of your teeth.

You break the kiss hesitantly, smiling at him. His lips glisten with saliva, and he licks them clean for another taste of you. “Do your work.”

“I’m not missing much.”

“I will not be responsible when you fail your next test.”

“You won’t be.” He insists. You shake your head and kiss him again.

He puts his hand over yours and pushes it down his chest, stopping when you reach his lap. You take the hint and find his bulge, palming him through his boxers, swallowing the moans that you pull from the back of his throat. “Will you-”

You cut him off with a nod, sinking to your knees and ducking underneath the desk. You kiss along his waistband, your fingers sneaking underneath his pants, pulling the garment from his legs and letting it pool around his ankles.

He’s halfway hard already, and you aid the erection by kissing up the shaft. Your hand wraps around the base when your lips touch the head, softly stroking and feeling him grow under your touch.

Your teeth sink into his thigh to tease him, and he squirms uncomfortably. “Please, just-”

“Be patient.” You coo, giving him a few more careful jerks before letting your lips wrap around him finally. You push yourself halfway down, leaving yourself some room to continue with your hand’s ministrations. You look up at him with big, doe eyes, though he misses them because he’s busy squeezing his eyes shut and clenching his jaw.

He places a hand on the crown of your head, and pushes down ever-so-gently. While you bob your head up and down, moans begin to rise from him. His mouth hangs open while he breathes deeply, entirely uninterested in his professor’s lesson.

Your mouth waters when you close your eyes and think about how he could fuck your mouth if he wanted to; grab your head—maybe by your hair—shove it every which way necessary to make himself cum down your throat. He doesn’t, though, and instead allows you to do what you already know will bring him there soon enough.

He shifts to get more comfortable, and you nearly choke when the tip of his cock nudges the back of your throat. “Sorry.” He breathes. “Didn’t mean to do that.”

You hum around him in acknowledgment, and watch him trap his lower lip between his teeth to avoid reacting to the pleasure that comes with the vibrations. You swallow around him, hollowing your cheeks out, sucking hard. “F-Fuck.” He whispers, eyes glued to you. “You’re so hot.”

You listen to his noises and slip a hand between your legs and down your panties, dragging two fingers through your folds and spreading your wetness up to your clit. You roll it beneath your fingertips, pressing down as hard as Bucky usually does when he does this, and you gasp when you let a finger in.

You pull your head back and run your tongue slowly up the underside of his cock, lips pulling into a smile when they’re finally given the freedom to. You taste the salty pre-cum, flutter your tongue against the sensitive head of his dick, and pull away entirely.

“Wh-”

“I need you.”

“In my chair?”

“Uh-huh.”

He raises his eyebrows but doesn’t protest when you crawl from beneath the desk, and instead braces his feet against the floor, opening his arms to welcome you onto his lap. You throw a leg over him, sitting in front of his dick, thanks to the slight slouch in his posture.

He holds your face, tilting his head back so that he can reach your lips. You can tell he had a cigarette already this morning—probably on the fire escape, before the booming voice of his professor woke you up—and it makes you crave one, too, but not more than you crave him. Not even close.

He retracts a hand from your cheek and wraps it around himself, giving slow strokes to his thick cock. “Ready for it?” He asks, and you nod.

You pull your panties to the side and let him find you. He runs the tip along your entrance, coating it with your slick until he’s slippery enough to push in.

You sink down onto him and you moan together breathily, into each other’s mouths. “Fuck.” You whisper. “So big, Bucky.”

“Feel good?”

“Uh-huh. Gonna start moving.”

“‘Kay. Be gentle.” He kisses you. “Don’t wanna fall.”

You lift your hips and whine when you lower them back down, thighs tensing and core tightening to prepare for the repetition of the action. You brace your hands on his shoulders and feel him lean into you to attach his lips to your throat, sucking and biting and chilling the skin when he exhales through his nose over the wet spots that he leaves. Your lips pull into a smile when he works at a spot by your jugular with his teeth, very intentionally making it dark and leaving it above where any of your collars will reach.

The way he stretches you is familiar but not boring, because you’ll never be tired of the slight sting that comes with it for the first few minutes, or the way that he fills you up so nicely. He holds your ass in his large hands, guiding the movements of your hips expertly, because he knows exactly the angle that you need to cum quickly.

His laptop still drones on, but neither of you can hear individual words over the breath exchanged between your mouths, or the squeaking of the swivel chair beneath you. With a metal hand against your spine and a flesh one on your waist, he guides your movements—a constant repetition of up and down, over and over and over again.

You can feel the tip of his cock in your stomach, reaching depths that nobody before him ever could. A moan escapes from his lips when you squeeze around him, and his teeth sink into your collarbone. You grasp at his short hair, tugging gently and feeling him hum against you at the harsh action.

“Fuck.” He mutters.

He looks so pretty when you tilt your head down. His pink lips are parted to raggedly exhale, and his hair is even worse than it was when he woke up, since you keep pulling on it. He’s got a good amount of stubble decorating his jaw, which you noticed at first last night when he shoved his face in your neck to sleep. You crash your lips against his, kissing slowly while you hold his chin. You hear another noise from him, and assume you’re correct in thinking that he’s closer than you are.

“Almost there?” You ask against his warm mouth.

He nods. “Touch yourself.”

You comply immediately, pulling a hand from his shoulder and licking your fingertips before you find your clit with them. Pressing firmly, you trace circles into yourself, immediately feeling the effects when your stomach tingles and tenses. His tongue is in your mouth now, and he is very much responsible for your movements; he pushes your thighs and pulls your hips, leaving only the rolling and the clenching to you.

Your hand works rigorously at your core, and now that you’re both quiet with concentration, you can hear every lewd noise that comes from you working yourself on and off of him. Your fingers are slippery, but they stay focused on their task, and succeed when your toes curl and you open your mouth to whine, breaking the heated kiss.

You continue to move, but he soon holds you down, pumping you full of himself with a string of curses, and a few mumbles of your name. While you would love to bathe in the afterglow, his first name is being called from behind you.

“James? James Barnes?”

Without pulling out of you, he uses his feet to roll the chair closer to his desk, and uses his right hand to unmute his microphone. “Uh, yeah, hi.”

“Did you hear my question, James?”

“Um, no, I didn’t, sorry.” He looks at you and grins, holding back a laugh. “I was a little distracted.”

[osakaso5]

IDOLiSH7 6th Anniversary Special Story: Full of Heart...

Chapter 6: Wishing

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5

Sogo Osaka: Tsunashi-san, thank you for bringing us to this limited edition Rabitty-kun shop.

Ryunosuke Tsunashi: It's no trouble at all, really! I never got to play with a Rabitty-kun, myself.

Ryunosuke Tsunashi: I was planning to come check this place out for the show anyway, so I'm glad you two could tag along.

Tamaki Yotsuba: Thanks for sending us the photo from when you were little, too! Me and So-chan were super hyped about it!

Sogo Osaka: Tamaki-kun..!

Ryunosuke Tsunashi: Ahaha! It's a little embarrassing, considering what a country bumpkin I must've looked like.

Tamaki Yotsuba: You looked cute standing on the beach, almost like a girl.

Ryunosuke Tsunashi: Huh..!? Nobody's ever told me that before! I've always been tall for my age...

Tamaki Yotsuba: Okay, maybe not like a girl, but your arms and body were all skinny and stuff. What do you call that again? Slendy...

Sogo Osaka: Slender.

Tamaki Yotsuba: Yeah, that. You had the same face, but you weren't all buff.

Ryunosuke Tsunashi: Oh, okay! I didn't know that's how I looked... What did you think, Sogo-kun?

Sogo Osaka: Um... How should I put this...

Sogo Osaka: It... It was more than I could bear.

Ryunosuke Tsunashi: .........

Tamaki Yotsuba: So-chan, you sound like a creepy old man!

Sogo Osaka: No, I didn't mean it in a weird way! I've juat never had a taste of such a different type of Tsunashi-san..!

Ryunosuke Tsunashi: Taste...

Sogo Osaka: Uh... Maybe "taste" isn't the right word for it, but it was very satisfying to see..!

Ryunosuke Tsunashi: Satisfying...

Tamaki Yotsuba: So-chan, you gotta stop it with the big explanations and be more casual! Call it cute, or nice, or something!

Sogo Osaka: Nice! It was nice! Very nice!

Ryunosuke Tsunashi: Ahaha! Thank you!

TV on Shop Window: ...The secret to Rabitty-kun's birth!

TV on Shop Window: Who would've thought our famous mascot had such a story behind him!?

TV on Shop Window: Look forward to our 6th Anniversary Rabitty-kun! Toi toi toi~♪

Ryunosuke Tsunashi: Ah, here it is.

Tamaki Yotsuba: Wow! They've got Rabitty-kuns in all kinds of colors! I wanna go touch them!

Sogo Osaka: Tamaki-kun, you must ask the clerks for permission first...

Ryunosuke Tsunashi: It looks like these are samples. Go ahead and touch them.

Tamaki Yotsuba: I'll go with this one first...

Red Rabitty: Ooh, ooh! Hold me!

Tamaki Yotsuba: Whoa! It's so cute!

Orange Rabitty: Ooh, ooh! Pet me! 

Hot Pink Rabitty: Ooh, ooh! Yawn...  Let’s go to bed! 

Sogo Osaka: You're right... They're really cute.

Grey Rabitty: Ooh ooh! Tyt ty tyt ty ty ♪

Ryunosuke Tsunashi: Ah, this one seems to be singing something!

Tamaki Yotsuba: Wow! Where do you push to make it sing? Is it here?

Turquoise Rabitty: Ooh, ooh! That tickles!

Sogo Osaka: Maybe it's here?

Yellow Rabitty: Ooh, ooh! Dum dum dum dee dum ♪

Tamaki Yotsuba: Ah, it danced! So-chan, let go of it! It's trying to dance!

Ryunosuke Tsunashi: I'll make this one dance with it!

Dark Red Rabitty: Ooh, ooh! Chaka chaka chan chan ♪

Tamaki Yotsuba: Awesome! This is so much fun!

Sogo Osaka: They're so energetic.

Ryunosuke Tsunashi: I think you're supposed to feed these carrots to them? Go on, Tamaki-kun, give it a try.

Tamaki Yotsuba: Okay! I'm gonna give one to this guy...

Green Rabitty: Ooh, ooh! Nom... nom... nom... Yummy~!

Tamaki Yotsuba: It ate! What about this one?

Rosy Brown Rabitty: Ooh, ooh! Chomp, chomp, chomp! I want more!

Tamaki Yotsuba: Ahaha! This one eats a lot!

Ryunosuke Tsunashi: Hmm..? Look, they have a guide to exchanging defective toys.

Sogo Osaka: There were malfunctioning toys mixed in with the ones they released a few years ago. It says they'll exchange those for working ones, free of charge...

Sogo Osaka: Maybe these samples are the defective toys... But how exactly are they malfunctioning..?

Navy Rabitty: Ooh... ooh... Help.. me...

Tamaki Yotsuba: Holy crap!!! Why's this one so creepy..!?

Pink Rabitty: Oh, ooh... Don't... leave me...

Ivory Rabitty: Oh, ooh... You... saw..?

Pale Green Rabitty: Oh, ooh... Ehehehe... Eehehehehe...

Sogo Osaka: These ones are definitely defective..!

Ryunosuke Tsunashi: They're awful..! Why would anyone make them like this..? The poor kids who had these must've been terrified...

Tamaki Yotsuba: Yeah, seriously! If I had to sleep with one of these, my mattress would be all soggy the next morning!  

Sogo Osaka: You'd wet the bed?

Tamaki Yotsuba: So what if I would!? And I don't mean right now, I mean if I was still little!

Sogo Osaka: If you were little, then it's not something you could control much, anyway...

Ryunosuke Tsunashi: Ah, why don't we take a break from these Rabitty-kuns, and go look at those ones instead?

Tamaki Yotsuba: What..? "Face three Rabitty-kuns against each other, and they'll go into gossipy teenage girl mode".

Ryunosuke Tsunashi: "Gossipy teenage girl mode"..?

Lavender Rabitty: Oh. Em. Gee. I think my nail just broke.

Light Blue Rabitty: It's gonna be 36 degrees today. Lame af.

Ocean Blue Rabitty: I'm like, low key freaking out about this test tho.

Sogo Osaka: ......... I guess they don't do the "ooh, ooh" thing in this mode.

Tamaki Yotsuba: So-chan, they've got an "office workers in an elevator" mode, too.

Ryunosuke Tsunashi: Apparently they have a Showa-era small talk version as an extra rare option, too.

Sogo Osaka: Do children really play with modes like this..?

[Phone rings]

Tamaki Yotsuba: Yukirin's calling me... Hello!

Tamaki Yotsuba: Huh? Seriously!? You guys found the uncle who took my picture already!?

Sogo Osaka: What!?

Tamaki Yotsuba: I knew that legendary detective could help..! Okay! Thanks!!!

Tamaki Yotsuba: Guess what! They said they found the guy!

Sogo Osaka: That's great, Tamaki-kun!

Ryunosuke Tsunashi: What business did you have with a legendary detective?

Tamaki Yotsuba: I need a photo from when I was little, so I was looking for this uncle who took a family portrait of us.

Ryunosuke Tsunashi: Oh, I see...

Tamaki Yotsuba: Awesome! Now I get to show off my picture, too!

Sogo Osaka: I'm happy for you.

Ryunosuke Tsunashi: Let's take another picture you can show off. I want one of the face you're making right now.

Tamaki Yotsuba: Right now?

Ryunosuke Tsunashi: Yeah. Your smile is so nice, I want us to have something to remember it by. Come on.

Tamaki Yotsuba: Ehehe... This is a little embarrassing, but I'm still super happy! Thanks, Ryu-aniki!

Ryunosuke Tsunashi: Thank you, too!

Tamaki Yotsuba: Ah... So-chan, wanna be in the pic?

Sogo Osaka: Me?

Tamaki Yotsuba: You found your photo, too. We can both show Ryu-aniki how proud we are. Right, Ryu-aniki?

Ryunosuke Tsunashi: Of course! I'd love for you to be in the picture too, Sogo-kun.

Sogo Osaka: A-alright.

Tamaki Yotsuba: Hurry up!

Ryunosuke Tsunashi: Stand next to each other. Laugh on three. One, two, three...

MEZZO": Ahahaha!

[Snap]

- - - -

Sogo Osaka: I'm glad your family photo will be found soon.

Tamaki Yotsuba: Me too.

Sogo Osaka: I'm sure Aya-chan would be happy about it.

Tamaki Yotsuba: Yeah. I'm glad you'll get you and your uncle's photo, too.

Tamaki Yotsuba: Is it gonna make it to the show, though?

Sogo Osaka: It will. I'm flying to pick it up at our nearest yacht harbor tonight.

Tamaki Yotsuba: Tonight? You gonna be okay?

Sogo Osaka: I'll be fine. I have tomorrow off, anyway.

Tamaki Yotsuba: Apparently my pic's coming in the mail. Ah...

[Rainfall]

Tamaki Yotsuba: It's raining.

Sogo Osaka: ...Not to mention the wind is really strong all of a sudden.

Tamaki Yotsuba: Can your plane leave in this weather?

Sogo Osaka: I... I think so. But I should hurry to the airport, and you need to get back to the dorm...

[Thunder]

MEZZO": Ah...

MEZZO": ...A blackout..?

- - - - 

Ryunosuke Tsunashi: I'm home. And completely soaked.

Kaoru Anesagi: Here's a towel. Take off your socks, shirt, and pants. There's a hot bath waiting for you.

Ryunosuke Tsunashi: You're here too, Anesagi-san?

Gaku Yaotome: There was a power outage until just a minute ago.  Apparently some parts of Tokyo are still dark.

Ryunosuke Tsunashi: What!? That sounds bad.

Gaku Yaotome: It's not the only bad thing here. Your bath's a little too hot...

Tenn Kujo: Hot as in, practically boiling. Want to go take a dip?

Ryunosuke Tsunashi: Thanks.

Tenn Kujo: What is that?

Ryunosuke Tsunashi: Ah... They're gifts for you and Gaku. I thought the Rabitty-kuns were too cute not to buy any.

Gaku Yaotome: Ahaha! Fair enough!

Tenn Kujo: I'm getting all nostalgic.

Ocean Blue Rabitty: Ooh, ooh! Hold me!

Kaoru Anesagi: Gosh, how adorable. I'll take care of you, little one. Come here.

Ocean Blue Rabitty: Ooh, ooh! Rat tat rat tat ♪

Kaoru Anesagi: Heh, it's singing.

Kaoru Anesagi: Hey. Does any one of you know why Rabitty-kun says "ooh, ooh"?

Ryunosuke Tsunashi: I don't Is there some bigger reason for it?

Kaoru Anesagi: Apparently it's based on a child's imitation of a famous sweets mascot.

Kaoru Anesagi: Which one was it, again? The one with a crown, a closed mouth, and an overall neutral expression...

Tenn Kujo: A crown..? Doesn't ring a bell.

Kaoru Anesagi: It's right on the tip of my tongue, I swear. It's still around, too, and you see it everywhere. It's also got a ribbon, I think...

Gaku Yaotome: Mascots with ribbons are a dime a dozen.

Kaoru Anesagi: Sometimes flames come out of its back, and it punches things. Sometimes it gets so emotional, it starts spinning fast. Ugh. I can picture it in my mind, but I just can't remember the name.

Kaoru Anesagi: In any case, it's something that originates from before the CEO of Toi Toi Toi was making the kind of profit he is today.

Kaoru Anesagi: He tried to turn his parents' business into a toy shop, but he just couldn't make it succeed.

Kaoru Anesagi: Apparently that's when he saw one of the neighborhood kids mimic the mascot I was talking about.

Ryunosuke Tsunashi: And that kid was the basis for Rabitty-kun?

Kaoru Anesagi: Yep.

Kaoru Anesagi: Apparently the kid said something along the lines of "His mouth is closed, so he probably talks like, 'ooh, ooh'!"

Kaoru Anesagi: Then the kid would start dancing while singing "ooh, ooh", and that was the blueprint for Rabitty-kun.

Ryunosuke Tsunashi: Wow..! I think it's really nice that Rabitty-kun was technically born out of a child's idea.

Ryunosuke Tsunashi: I'm sure the CEO must really like kids, too.

Kaoru Anesagi: From what I heard, he's had a rough life. He was separated from his sibling, and when they reunited, he had to fight the reason for their separation...

Gaku Yaotome: Fight..? I can't even imagine what that might entail.

Ryunosuke Tsunashi: Everyone has something going on.

Tenn Kujo: How did he and his sibling reunite?

Kaoru Anesagi: Their parents were photographers, and they both just so happened to have a photo that proved their relation.

Gaku Yaotome: Maybe they kept each other's faces in a locket or something.

Tenn Kujo: There's no way it'd be something that cliché.

Ryunosuke Tsunashi: Still, I'm sure they were happy to see each other again.

Ryunosuke Tsunashi: Those two should be happily walking home right about now, too.  

- - - -

Tamaki Yotsuba: So-chan, wait up!

Sogo Osaka: I need to hurry to the airport. If the weather gets any worse than this, all flights might be cancelled.

Tamaki Yotsuba: There's a blackout, and you're soaking wet! What if you can't get home, and you catch a cold!?

Sogo Osaka: You can go home if you want...

Tamaki Yotsuba: Why are you always like this!? I swear, you haven't changed at all!

Sogo Osaka: .........

Tamaki Yotsuba: You seriously can't even ask me to come with you!? Grow a backbone already!

Sogo Osaka: ......... That's not why.

Tamaki Yotsuba: Then what is it!?

Sogo Osaka: It's not that I'm afraid of causing you trouble. I want to prove something to you.

Tamaki Yotsuba: Prove what..?

Sogo Osaka: We may not have had the best lives, but we haven't done much bad, either.

Sogo Osaka: So... This isn't a punishment. 

Tamaki Yotsuba: ...So-chan...

Sogo Osaka: I'll go, Tamaki-kun. And once I'm back, I'll show off my picture, and you'll get to see what my uncle looked like.

Sogo Osaka: I'm... I'm going to treat this as an adventure. And I'm going to ward off any disasters.

Sogo Osaka: Because I learned that from you.

Tamaki Yotsuba: ......... But...

[Toot toot!]

Tamaki Yotsuba: .......!? Someone got out of that car...

Mysterious Man: .........

Sogo Osaka: A masked man..!?

Tamaki Yotsuba: W-what do you want!? Stay away..! Ah..!

Sogo Osaka: Tamaki-kun..! ...Don't you dare do anything to him..!

Mysterious Man: ........!

Sogo Osaka: .........!? You're...

[Tap tap tap]

Sogo Osaka: Ah..! Wait, please..!

Tamaki Yotsuba: So-chan!

[Wroom...]

Sogo Osaka: ...Are you alright, Tamaki-kun!?

Tamaki Yotsuba: That guy gave me this.

Sogo Osaka: A parcel... Did you see how he looked when he gave you this?

Tamaki Yotsuba: Dunno. He was wearing a mask and sunglasses, so I didn't really see anything.

Sogo Osaka: I see...

Tamaki Yotsuba: But, for some reason... I kinda didn't get a bad vibe from him.

Sogo Osaka: ......... Neither did I. He felt familiar, somehow...

Tamaki Yotsuba: ...What do you think this is?

Sogo Osaka: I don't know... Let's open it.

Tamaki Yotsuba: What if it's a bomb?

Sogo Osaka: ...I hear no ticking, but we should still be careful. Hand it over, I'll open it.

Sogo Osaka: There's no people around, probably due to the rain. You should stand back, too...

Tamaki Yotsuba: ........

Sogo Osaka: ...Or don't.

Tamaki Yotsuba: You sure?

Sogo Osaka: Yeah. We'll open it together. I'm sure we'll be fine, because of the rain.

Tamaki Yotsuba: ...You sure it won't explode?

Sogo Osaka: It probably won't... In this kind of rain, any spark should  fizzle out instantly. Though we can't be 100% sure.

Sogo Osaka: Besides, you're a good kid. If there's a higher power, then I'm sure the'd want to reward you, not punish you.

Tamaki Yotsuba: ...I don't wanna have nay more regrets. Are you sure this isn't stupid?

Sogo Osaka: I don't want any regrets, either. Which is why I refuse to act like a coward.

Tamaki Yotsuba: ...Fine. Let's open it, So-chan.

Sogo Osaka: Yeah... Here I go.

Tamaki Yotsuba: ...Maybe there's a fuse hidden in the paper..?

Sogo Osaka: ...This is oil paper, so it doesn't get wet in the rain... Ah...

Tamaki Yotsuba: It doesn't look like a bomb... What's that rectangular thing?

Sogo Osaka: ...It's a photo, and a card...

Tamaki Yotsuba: Card? What's it say?

Sogo Osaka: "Dear customer. Here are the pictures you ordered."

Sogo Osaka: "I can't thank you enough for the help you once gave my brother, so I've included your friend's photo, as well."

Tamaki Yotsuba: Wait... Could it be..?

MEZZO": The legendary detective..!?

Tamaki Yotsuba: Is that how the guy knew where we were!? He wasn't a shady guy, he was a private eye!

Tamaki Yotsuba: But what does his brother have to do with me? And I dunno who the friend he's talking about is, either...

Sogo Osaka: ...Tamaki-kun, look...

Tamaki Yotsuba: Huh..?

Sogo Osaka: My uncle... This is the picture of my uncle and I. Look, here he is.

Tamaki Yotsuba: And a mini So-chan...

Sogo Osaka: ...Uncle... It's because I had him that I'm making music now.

Tamaki Yotsuba: ...So-chan... Look at my photo, too.

Tamaki Yotsuba: Ta-dah! That's Mom, that's little Aya. And that's me...

Sogo Osaka: It's a tiny Tamaki-kun...

Tamaki Yotsuba: Yeah. So what do you think? You can stop staring at your uncle, already.

Tamaki Yotsuba: Hey. Say something.

Sogo Osaka: I think it's a wonderful picture. Your mother looks gentle, beautiful, and...

Sogo Osaka: ...I've finally had the chance to see her...

Tamaki Yotsuba: .........

Sogo Osaka: Tamaki-kun... It must've been so hard for you. But you're fine now.

Sogo Osaka: It's going to be fine...

Tamaki Yotsuba: ...Yeah...

Tamaki Yotsuba: You look like you had a rough time, too... Being in this stuffy place, wearing stuffy clothes. ...But at least you could still smile.

Tamaki Yotsuba: Hey, little guy. Believe it or not, but you're gonna be making music in a couple years. And I'm gonna sing your songs with you.

Tamaki Yotsuba: So, it's gonna be okay. You're gonna be okay.

Sogo Osaka: Yeah...

Sogo Osaka: Thank you, Tamaki-kun. 

- - - -

Tsumugi's Thoughts: And that...

Tsumugi's Thoughts: ...Is how all 16 idols got their pictures, safe and sound.

- - - -

Mister Shimooka: Well then, it's about time we got Welcome to Kids' Room started!

Re:vale: OK!

TRIGGER: Alright.

IDOLiSH7: Yaaaay! Let's gooo!

ŹOOĻ: Yeah!

Mister Shimooka: It’s the moment of truth! We'll be taking a look at these idols' childhood pictures!

Mister Shimooka: But before that, it's time for our special guests!

Mister Shimooka: Please welcome the CEO of Toi Toi Toi, Jiro Ito!

Mister Shimooka: As well as the man who gave a loan to Toi Toi Toi when it was on the verge of bankruptcy, Taro Ito!

Sogo Osaka: Huh?

Torao Mido: Hmm?

Mister Shimooka: Let's give both of the  men who made Rabitty-kun what he is an  equally warm welcome!

Mister Shimooka: Here they come!

All: Ooh, ooh!

???: Hello. I'm the CEO of Toi Toi Toi, Jiro Ito.

Tamaki Yotsuba: Ah..!

Tamaki Yotsuba: That's the uncle who took our picture..! 

The End.

[shozaii]

could I request some dabi, aizawa and hawks taking care of their s/o who is maybe sick or has had a rough day? 💕

(a/n): hello hello anon! ahh thank you so much for sending this in! always wanted to write for dabi too <3 enjoy, love! ❤❤

masterlist.

------------------------

rough day.

pairings: dabi x reader, aizawa x reader, hawks x reader.

warnings: none!

i’d like to think that dabi does care, and would even go as far as he could to show you that he does. maybe when you two first started dating, he would tend to be a little reserved, quiet.

well, of course he has the love. of course he has the affection. then again, of course he has to take time to ease himself with you - to give his all for his s/o.

a scenario; it was a long, long day of constant stress and pressure. it wasn’t like your body wasn’t used to this. you knew what you signed up for - might as well endure it, put your heart and soul into it when you can. after all, rest would always come later on.

or so you thought. it went even longer, the more you started thinking of your bed. more jobs, more deadlines within a day. more ruckus. geez, what was with the world today?

the world took most of your precious time, because by the time you stepped your foot into home, it was nighttime.

more like, the next morning.

you groaned, looking at the time. 

“babe...? your boyfriend called out in what seemed like a groggy voice. “damn, look at you. rough day?”

your figure sloppily fell into dabi’s chest, inhaling his enthralling scent. he let out a little ‘oof’ before saying, “you did, huh. come on, stinky. bath time.”

your arms have never felt this tired after so long, because when it reached out to punch him by the chest, it wobbled. “i have a name, you know.”

“yeah. stinky.”

“shut up.”

mans came prepared. doesn’t show it but he’s super duper aware of your schedule. doesn’t need to write it down, doesn’t need any reminder. on the dot. a fine gentleman indeed.

leads you carefully to the bath he prepared for you. he helps you scrub your back (i headcanon him being a master of massaging) he then pecks your scars/stiff areas. “seen this a lot on the shows. hope it works.”

yup, you both had a good laugh after that.

he then gives you your towels. offers to dry your hair because you nearly tucked yourself into bed while your hair was still soaking wet. 

even bought you your favorite dinner, and then chuckled softly when he watched you yawn as you rested your jaw on your palm. “bed.”

“wow. another way of saying, take me to bed, my dear prince,” his gosh darn attractive smirk appeared again. 

oh my god he is a sucker for you. 

when you both are finally on bed,  he pulls you close, peppering you with the last few kisses before you both fell sound asleep. the best part is that sometimes you two stay like that until the next morning.

oh wow. let’s be real here, we have three wonderful gentlemen in this area. now aizawa is a little different. he knows what rough days are like, especially when he himself has gone through them. almost everyday. 

resulting in the yellow sleeping bag. 

but that does not stop you from caring for him. most nights when he returns home late, you treat him like a king because hey, he deserves it. he works so hard taking great care of his students, watching them overnight at the dorms (which results in no sleep). ah, the things you do make him so happy and loved.

so he vows to do the same to you. 

this time he was home earlier than usual - which was weird because usually you come home first. he checked every room, but to no avail. he tried calling you, but you didn’t answer.

okay, weird. where were you? maybe he’s been so used to seeing you return first till the point where he completely forgets about your schedules - basically anything you were doing. and damn does he feel terrible. 

which is why he decides to own up to it.

mans dashes through the apartment, getting the stuff that you like, ditching the stuff that you didn’t like seeing when you got back home, made sure he was wide awake for what he was about to see right in front of him - a representation of him (except that it’s not his son shinsou) or you, still in your best form.

.....maybe he didn’t need to think of the second choice. he was right with the first.

“my back hurts. so, so, bad,” you whined softly as he walked towards you.

“come on, kitten.”

“you should’ve gone to bed, shouta.”

“unfortunately my senses told me not to.”

“but they tell you that everyday.”

“....today was different.”

he lets you sit down on the couch for a bit, worried that you might as well collapse and then fall into the deepest sleep. once that was settled, he lightly tapped your shoulder. “you rested enough. bath time.”

conversations stay light with shouta. he knows what it’s like to be tired, and to constantly have noise around him. at the same time, he doesn’t want you sleeping; hence the small talk.

“are you sure, love?” you asked him. “you know i can-,”

“too late.”

you laughed drowsily. oh, what a man.

he frowns when you were hesitant to take a few bites from the light supper snack he prepared for you. they were your favorite.

“eat up. then we could sleep for as long as we want. i’ll even join you and never leave.”

best wild card pulled out of his pocket because you chomped down on your snack.

i headcanon him to be a little scared when it comes to massaging his s/o, worried that he might hurt them, but when he does, it’s god-tier. his hands work like magic. your back pain was almost all gone in that instant.

the both of you were already pooped out, so at the same time, you headed to bed, finally landing on your fluffy pillows, taking it all in.

and right next to you was the man of your dreams.

okay! two rough day scenarios, now for this majestic bird boy’s s/o who isn’t feeling well!

you weren’t at your best. your nose was runny, you sweat a whole lot. for a while you felt really really hot, so you put on your blanket. suddenly you were freezing COLD. pulled them back up.

gave up and covered one half of your figure. your headache was not getting any better and you used ointment/took a painkiller to get rid of the stinging pain on the top part of your head; but to no avail. it kept getting worse. 

the worst part was that you had to skip your work schedule, and you were really precise with it no matter what. but you just couldn’t when your body hurt as if tons of rocks were placed on your back. this was definitely not going to end soon.

lucky for you, keigo was taking a nap right next to you. he got up abruptly. “um, i had a nightmare. i was...falling down....oh my god, y/n, you are RED! what did you have?”

“i had the same thing as you dummy,” you replied with a different tone in your voice. “ugh, my head.”

“you’re sick, chickadee.” he placed the back of his hand on his forehead. “nothing.” he then did so on your forehead. “you are burning hot.”

“why thank you.”

“y/n, i love you but i’m serious. your temperature is soaring hot.”

“aw, man. i can’t ditch my schedule today.”

“in this house, a ‘schedule’ does not exist. you’re staying at home, and i’m going to spend the day with you. got that?”

you blinked a few times with your sore eyes, before replying with a sniffle. “okay.”

“good little birdie.”

and boY does he finesse his way to giving you the best treatment. 

he may or may not have learnt making chicken soup over the years he has been with you, so cue him making probably the best one for you. (we all know why he learnt this anyway)

feeling cold? gives you warm water for your sore throat. feeling warm? puts a little stand fan for you to take in all the fresh air. might as well even fan you with his wings because keigo loves being extra for his s/o. 

he sits with you and holds your hand. he doesn’t like seeing you like this - who does? all he wanted to do was to head out with you, hold hands, fly with you if he could, eat some yakitori.

no, no. must cure y/n first.

he’s such a cute lil baby 

he’d place the wet cloth on your forehead, and comes checking on you every 10 minutes while he’s out of the room. 

bath time? yes please. the right scents for your already blocked nose and to also prevent you from feeling dizzy from the stronger ones that you owned. even offers to wash your back 🥺

gives you his clothing because you look so darn cute in them. he breathes this huge sigh of relief when your temperature decreases from where it was initially. then proceeds to kiss your cheeks.

“keigo! you’re going...to...get...sick!” 

“i’m practically immune. so don’t worry.” he smirked.

you started feeling a little bit better, so you moved to the living room. but the pains were still there.

“y/n. these medicines would help. you came prepared.”

“that’s because i was worried i’d get the flu once again. i hate this.”

“come on. it’s fine, love. you will get back in action in no time. i’m here for you, aren’t i?”

the day ends with more cuddles, more kisses, chicken soup, laughter, little naps, and finally to bed. it was a long day, and you were feeling a lot more better. the fever died down even more, the pains reduced.

and it was all thanks to this lovely number two hero - more so - your lover.

“get well soon, birdie. i love you.” you heard before your eyelids sealed shut.

------------------------

(a/n) : i. am. so. sorry. this took so long. ARGHH FORGIVE ME😭😭😭

but i do hope this is a wonderful read! 🥺❤

[yanderenightmare]

Ok hi again, I may be over doing it......idgaf I like ur shit! Good shit grade A writing. Aha

Aftercare, does it happen? What do they do?

Also....are these guys aware of their s/o limit if so do they stop😈

Pressing X for doubt

yandere ! BNHA thirsty headcannons

Support me at KO-FI if you feel like it<3

goodiebag WARNINGS: yandere, noncom/dubcon, abuse, manipulation, mind control

BAKUGO KATSUKI - KACHAN

He’ll at least ask. He’s always careful to ask. The actual response isn’t too important. Protest that are drowned out in a moan can’t be seen as an actual protest anyway, and he always makes sure that her words are chocked in her throat. Bakugo knows his worth, he knows that each and every thing he does to her in that bed, it’s guarantied she likes it. Her pride makes her a liar, she can’t be trusted with her own pleasure, not when he knows and has proven time and time again that he knows her body and her limits better than what she does. When he has her bent over his lap, that cute little ass that he knows belongs to him, aiming to make sure that she knows it too, each time his hand comes in harsh contact with the soft flesh, feeling it up like putty in his hand as she winces and cries for him to stop. Her protests can’t be taken seriously, not when two fingers gliding up her pussy tells him all he needs to know, feeling how soaked she already is for him, all warm and velvety and ready. That’s all the answer he needs to keep going.

As far as aftercare goes… it can vary. Sometimes he’ll draw a bath with bubbles and lavender oil and light scented candles. Other times he’ll make food, where he’ll bake desserts more than anything. But there are days he won’t do much more than keep a painfully suffocating grip on her as he drifts rather quickly off to sleep. Exchanging no words except for those growls of good night and I love you. Leaving the rest for after they wake up, having an early morning where he’ll never let her sleep in, dragging her with him to shower before he has to leave, where afterwards he’ll treat her to more tender care on the bed with his face buried between her thighs in a way of apologizing for having to leave her alone all day.

DABI - TODOROKI TOUYA

She shouldn’t worry her pretty little head about anything. Dabi might look like your worst nightmare, but you’d be surprised how soft the darkness really is. He can be persuasive and disarming if and when he wants to be, or he can be foul… He likes finding a mix between the two though, they work better together anyway. Make her feel safe, but only if she obeys, and make her feel fear if she doesn’t. He won’t bite… at least not for any longer than to make her cry for him, for those precious little water-works to bubble up to the surface. Making a chew toy out of that pretty swan-neck of hers, paint it with purple, resembling what hue of mulberry-wine found on his marred skin. Nibbling on that cute button between her legs, feel her tremble in his hold and hear her gasp out his name. Or grinding those perfect little nipples between the rows of his teeth, watching her blubber out her pleas when the pressure he applies threatens to bite the flimsy nib off, feel her pussy clench around his shaft upon the anticipation and fear. Fear does such peculiar things to people, especially in the form of threats, especially when walking hand in hand with pleasure. His darling doesn’t know what to make of herself, left completely like putty in his hands, all for him to toy with and tamper and tease. Where she doesn’t dare try and make him stop, she doesn’t dare allow herself to enjoy what he’s doing either, because only mad people run into things they already know to be a trap.

He’ll hush and coo at her to stop crying afterwards, her little mind on the verge of breaking and her pitter patter heart standing on the cliff’s edge ready to jump with nothing but Dabi to hold onto, the knot in her lower abdomen already having exploded time and time again because of him. She’s such a mess, such a cross-eyed wet hot mess, his little mess and that always manages to bring a smile to his face.

SHIGARAKI TOMURA

If Tomura’s in a mood, as in a childish fit, she can expect no rest, because the wicked as we know get no rest, and the unfortunate sweet thing kidnapped by the wicked get no rest either. Tomura’s mood, quite like his morals, change like tidewater. Sometimes he’ll behold her precious beautiful body as though she’s made up of fine porcelain, meant to be touched and worshipped softly, where the fact of her wanting the worship or not is irrelevant. He’ll still touch and touch and let himself get carried away by how insanely soft her skin is as opposed to him. He’ll fuck her slowly, each hump meaningful and hauled out to the max as so to feel every single inch of him filling her up… Then there’s his other mood… The feeling of opposition is no less there, how unfairly gorgeous she is in contrast to how appalling he is, however… instead of it evoking worship… it evokes humorous triumph. Gut-wrenching nasty despicable satisfaction, where it brings him such inane pleasure to think that someone as disgusting as him has the power and the will to corrupt something so pure, something so pretty, and how there is quite literally nothing she can do to stop him, nothing at all… it gets his blood rushing in sadistic glee when he pushes her down on her stomach, fisting her hair while jutting into her from behind, every little salacious depraved thought growled into her ear, with no regard to her choked screams except for a wild grin, spiked to go even faster.

Not much tender aftercare here I’m afraid, he thinks it’s best to leave her alone, getting in his chair to game, taking one long last look at his cum seeping from her hole, his handprint red across her ass, still looking so pretty even with all those bruises… maybe even inspired to go for another round.

SHINSO HITOSHI

Aww. Little kitty is at her breaking point? The collar is too tight for Master’s precious pretty pet? Pussy-cat wants a break? But good kittens deserve good toe-curling eye-crossing world-shattering rewards, and bad kittens will be punished however Master chooses, won’t they? If she screams no, he’ll hear yes. If she screams stop, he’ll hear more. If she screams please, well… he’ll still hear please… It’s so unbearably cute to see her stutter and frustrate over how her words come out all wrong, as if someone’s picked her brain, pulled on her strings as though she were a puppet, changed what she wants to say, to what he wants to hear. What’s even cuter is when those large eyes of hers go all ditzy, crossing paths, that crinkle between her brows furrowing, with her tongue falling over her lips. But, the cutest thing is when her tail wraps around his thigh and leg, holding onto him in such a soft embrace when her bliss strides over her body, reaching all the way to the tip of her plushy soft tail, when her wrists and ankles are too busy being kept tied snug and firm together, as he continues to slam himself fast-forwardly into her.

He’ll erase his mind-tricks afterwards, careful to restore anything he might have disturbed or broken during their playtime. Her fluffy tail still slithered around his thigh as he pets her over her soft ears, telling her what a good little kitten she is and how proud she’s made him, feeling her shiver and jolt against him, small little spasms followed by short acute hiccups, proof of how bendable those so-called limits are when Hitoshi takes control. Proof of how good he can make her feel, so good she loses track of where she is, so good she loses contact with her mind, so good the only thing she’s still able to do is purr.

TAKAMI KEIGO - HAWKS

Oh… She can’t blame him when his rut rolls around the corner. He can’t control those urges. Not when she’s there, so plain and defenseless and a perfect fit for him to take all that cooped up frustration out on. He just needs to fill her each and every crevice up with his seed, make sure she’s well bred, pump her full of his cum until his balls no longer have anything left to give. He’ll hump like a frenzied pup, hands gripping her hips so tight her feet don’t even touch the ground. He’ll pound until he’s exhausted, until she’s left a swollen sweat-slicked mess, no longer able to stand straight without her weak and wobbly knees giving out beneath her. She wishes his rut and her heat could line up, so she doesn’t have to go through the same thing twice, but she isn’t that lucky, and Keigo is. He’ll be counting down the days until finally picking up those sweet tones in the air, that aroma that makes him go feral. She does him a favor by acting so shy, so ashamed, it makes it that much more fun when she’s struggling against both him and herself. All it takes is for him to put his thumb in her mouth… how she’ll begin to drool at the very first taste, her eyes losing that feral fight and falling prey to the feeling of her nerves being set on fire. He gladly indulges her needs, his heart fluttering at how clingy she becomes, how sweet, blubbering out gibberish, shapeless words that are such a good replacement for what vile things she’ll yell at him most other times.

He’ll be so hungry in the mornings after, disappointed for the lack of food in the house, but he can’t blame his darling for not cooking, not when he’s rendered her lame, she can’t very well cook if she can’t stand. He’ll order so much take-out the smell of sweat and juices soon gets coated and overwhelmed by the smell of spice and broth. Eating, regaining all his strength… that was only day one of two weeks… the rut is only just beginning.

MIDORIYA IZUKU - DEKU

Don’t worry, Izuku knows how much to give and how much to take, just as he knows when to give it and when to take it, and how to give and how to take. He knows what punishment is due for what crime as well as he knows when rewards are in order. And if he so happens to need to punish her… he’ll make sure she does something in need of punishment. It’s not often he needs to act on those sadistic carnal vulgar yearnings, but a bad day gets a whole lot better if he can come home and take it out on someone, especially when he gets to play with her beforehand, poke and prod until she slips up, allowing him to pounce on her the second she fucks up like a fox finally done playing with his food, his little bunny. The ends justify the means after all. He knows that it’s unfair to take his frustration out on his little darling… but… it being wrong… somehow makes it feel better. Having her blubbering on choked sobs and quaking beneath him, under his blood-soaked scarred hands, her little hole serving as such a snug and no doubt painful fit for his cock to abuse. Hearing her apologize for doing absolutely nothing at all, just to satiate his craze, all because he decided he wanted to exercise his dominance.

One thing that’s good about Izuku is that once is enough, and though that one time might feel like a million times stretching over a million days, where she’s left unable to walk properly… once he’s done, she can be sure he’s done… at least until the next day. If she hasn’t passed-out, he’ll let her cry it off when he’s done, offering no words but still comforting her by stroking her back or fiddling with her hair, twirling it about his fingers as she rests on his chest, her tears making his bicep itch with irritation, but he’ll allow her that much.

CHISAKI KAI - OVERHAUL

He tries being sweet, he tries being gentle, he tries mimicking the same type of softness as his darling bestows upon him, yet… although she’s sweet, she’s also so aggravatingly reluctant, and Kai doesn’t have the time nor the patience to second-guess every single little thing he wants to do. It’s impractical, it’s wasteful, it’s stupid, and stupidity as we know is a disease he can’t risk being infected with. No, better then, for him to just take the lead, for him to make the decisions for her, for him to decide her limits, up to him to decide when she’s ready to take his cock, how fast and hard he can thrust into her, how tight he can grip her wrists when she starts pushing at him, how many bruises are too many, how many times she can cum. Besides, if things go too far… he knows how to piece her together again. He hasn’t studied every single detail of her just to let all that valuable information go to waste. He’ll see to it that she’s as good as new once their done, if not, maybe even better, maybe even less reluctant to give into what he wants next time, maybe a bit more respectful of the rules, maybe a bit more understanding of who there is the boss and who there is the brittle brainless little toy.

Pain is a good cleanser anyway, despite it being bloody and gory and mixed in with tears and drool and snot and whatever else may occur once the need for his quirk arrives after his aggression causes something to bruise or break. She might think that it’s cruel that healing her has to hurt more than the wound itself, but what she needs to learn is that prosperity always comes at a price, a price that he’s all too willing to pay when she fails to live up to her potential.

TODOROKI SHOTO

Limits are made to be broken, to be conquered, in order for us to prosper. She should be grateful she at least gets the liberty to be with the one she loves, the one who loves her. She should at least be grateful that it’s not just anyone who’s breaking her limits, but him. Him and his hands and his tongue and his cock and his frostbite and his flames and his smile and his biting laughter. She knows by now that there is no stopping him when he starts, she knows that her only hope is to wait for herself to achieve that opium-blown ecstasy and ride that insanity where her skin feels like fire and her insides like ice and every touch, no matter how feather-light or how brutish and bruising, is god’s touch.

Shoto is unprecedentedly thorough and dreadfully talented at aftercare. While his darling is lying all limp and numbed-down, holding onto the prickling feeling dancing like fire-ants on her skin, she can barely even capture the feeling of Shoto wrapping her up in a fuzzy robe. His cold lips pressing onto her forehead and by the time she comes to, when she finally and woefully breaches the surface and gets reeled back into reality, right when she’s at the verge of collapsing from having all her hormones crash, her adrenaline fizzing out into nothing and she’s left feeling all cold and so dreadfully sad, Shoto’s right there, making her feel warm and appreciated and safe. He’ll light candles, scented with rosehip, he’ll already have picked out a movie, he’ll have the chocolate ready, the tea brewing in their matching cups, swiftly braiding her hair into a neat loose setup to keep it from falling into her face as he knows she’s much too drained to lift her hand, resting between his legs, her head using his chest as a headrest. If he’s being honest, he isn’t quite sure what he loves more, the play-session or the aftercare, all he knows is that one is impossible without the other… yet again proving the importance of balance.

Support me at KO-FI if you feel like it<3

[just-here-for-the-moment]

So, since you murdered me yesterday, its only fair that I try to get a little something back from you. I want you to give me something good - I need a good ol' bath -preferably with either Frankie "Oral King" Morales or Marcus "Pants Python" Pike. Your choice, but know that my life (or afterlife) depends on it. Meaning - the sooner the better, love.

You know what? It's a Friday night, I'm feeling generous (and still a little bad about murdering you) - you get BOTH!!!

Bedtime Stories by JHFTM

Rating: Explicit, 18+ ONLY Warnings: oral sex/F receiving; fingering/F receiving; mentions of anal sex; mentions of food; shameless fantasizing about Marcus "Trouser Snake" Pike's surprisingly filthy mouth

Frankie “She Comes First” Morales…

You come home from work on a Friday night just absolutely shattered. Frankie knows what you need, baby. He’s going to draw you the hottest bath you can stand, fill it with your favorite bath salts, and make you sink into it - no arguments, sweetheart. While you’re soaking up the warmth, he’s going to bring you a big glass of Southern sweet tea (homemade with sugar, none of that fast food shit), and sit on the edge of the tub to give you the world’s best foot massage.

What that? You didn’t know that the King of Cunnilingus also gives excellent foot massages? Well, now you do! And he’s not going to stop until you are putty in his hands. While he’s doing that, he’s going to ask you about your day. That low, calm voice of his, the little circles he’s rubbing into your skin, and the heat of the water almost put you to sleep. But Frankie’s not done yet, far from it...

When the water gets cold, he’s going to drain the tub and refill it extra-hot. Then he’s going to scrub your back, getting aaallll the spots you can’t reach. When you’re a limp, happy noodle, he’s going to rinse you off, wrap you in a big fluffy towel, and then lay you out on the bed. You’re honestly so happy and relaxed that you could fall asleep right there, laid out naked and air-drying gently under the ceiling fan. Just as you’re about to drift off with a smile on your face, you feel Frankie’s big hand on your ankle, shifting you into position so that one leg is bent with your foot flat on the bed. Then he does the same with your other ankle, and you realize exactly what he’s about to do…

“Ohhh… Frankie baby.” You’re so relaxed you can’t even open your eyes. “You don’t have to do that, love. I’m so relaxed already.”

“But I want to, sweet thing. I love doing this for you.” His voice is low and even, and he’s kneeling between your legs, rubbing circles on the inside of your knee with his broad thumb. You’re so blissed out that you almost can’t respond. The moment hangs there, and he’s starting to think you’ve fallen asleep. But it’s just that your brain is slowly processing what he wants to do, and how good he is at it, and how many times he’s made you come so hard before just from eating you. And you start to get aroused, despite your drowsiness. So you try to speak, and when you do, your breath hitches: “Okay.”

And that’s all the assurance he needs. Frankie knows you love this, he just always needs to hear it; he makes sure that you give your consent. And when you do he’s off like a shot, leaning down immediately because he’s already got both you and himself into position. All he needed was a yes.

You feel him take the first lick, separating your folds, and he loves the way you taste. You’re still warm and damp and clean and relaxed, and Frankie likes to start you off relaxed, because he knows it won’t be long. He knows how good he is at this, how to push your buttons and in what order and when to flex his fingers and when to hold them still. He knows when to lick with a broad, flat tongue and when to flick your nub with the hard tip of it, and he works every angle you have until you’re arching your back and moaning his name. Your hands can’t find a resting spot and they’re moving on their own almost; tangling in his hair and then palming flat on your abdomen and then gripping the bedspread and then squeezing your own breasts. Frankie loves it when you start to thrash around, making little squeals like you’re about to sneeze. He knows you’re close.

He feels your pelvic muscles start to tense and he does that thing with his tongue one last time and you are suddenly off in space, arching your back so hard you’re practically bent in half and squeezing his head between your thighs. He works his fingers slowly, massaging that sweet spot of sensitive tissue behind your pubic mound with one broad finger and laying a long, sucking kiss to your clit. A few tears leak out of your eyes from the release, and you can’t remember your own name for a moment. There’s only you, and Frankie, and that mouth of his, now laying soft little kisses to your mound and your inner thighs as he pulls his fingers out gently.

“Was that good?”

---

Marcus “Anaconda” Pike…

You knew that Marcus had something special planned for your anniversary. There was no way he would tell you what it was, exactly. But from the little secret smiles and hurried phone calls in the past few weeks, you knew he was pleased with his clandestine planning.

The big weekend came, and you started off on your lovely trip to the beach. A nice relaxing weekend to get away from it all, to disconnect your phones and reconnect with each other. The drive was easy, the sightseeing was fun, and the hotel he had picked was beautiful. When you checked in, Marcus made you wait at the bar. And when you got off the elevator and opened the door to the suite, you saw why.

He didn’t want you to overhear that he had rented the Presidential Suite. An enormous extravagance (you would have been happy with a regular room), but for Marcus it was perfect. He wanted to show you a good time, and let you live it up in luxury for 48 hours. When you saw the bathroom you gasped: not only was it bigger than your whole bedroom back at your D.C. apartment, but it had the largest bathtub you had ever seen.

When you finally closed your jaw and turned to look at Marcus, he had an enormous grin on his face. He knew that you were tired of the tiny shower and shallow tub in your apartment, and he had made sure to ask for the suite with the best soaking tub. You wanted to live in it.

Marcus turned the faucet on and tested the water, then told you that you could spend the entire evening in the tub if you wanted, no need to get dressed up and go out to a fancy dinner. You squealed and kissed him and made him promise to get in with you. Then you had the best idea ever.

“Ice cream in the tub? Whatever my girl wants,” Marcus had grinned. He ordered up room service and then rubbed your shoulders as you sat on the edge with your feet in the warm bubbles. When the food arrived, Marcus set it up within easy reach on a little table tray. He had ordered french fries and your favorite ice cream: chocolate chip cookie dough.

“God, Marcus. I could die happy right now.” You sat shoulder-deep in the warm water and teased his toes with yours, swirling your feet in the water to try to reach him. Marcus wiped his mouth off with a napkin and tossed it on the tray.

“I hope you don’t die. I was kind of looking forward to a nice weekend.” He wiggled his eyebrows at you. “I had plans for later.”

You crooked your finger at him and he shifted to come over to your side of the tub. “What plans did you have in mind, Mr. Pike?”

“Oh, you know…” Marcus moved you away from the wall of the tub gently and then spread his legs open, sitting you down in the V and wrapping his arms around your torso.

He continued. “I thought we could start with a nice bath, maybe take this into the bedroom, see where the weekend goes.” He nuzzled your neck and your nipples popped to attention.

“Mm-hmm. Go on.”

“Well, I thought maybe after this I could rail you into the mattress. Make you come so hard and scream so loud that someone calls security.”

You giggled. “And then what?”

“Well,” Marcus kissed your neck and scraped his teeth gently over your ticklish spot, palming both of your breasts in his huge hands. “Once you’re nice and relaxed from two or three orgasms, I was going to break out the industrial lube and see if you wanted me to go in through the back door. Give you one of those nights you won’t ever forget.”

You gasped theatrically and he nuzzled your ear with his nose. “Because the last time we did that, sweet girl, you ended up being such a filthy little cum slut that I nearly had to tie you down. You were wiggling so hard I thought you were going to pop right off my cock.”

You moaned, somewhere between a hum and a wail. Marcus nipped your earlobe and continued his dirty monologue. “So if you want to get fucked into next week, baby girl, you’re going to have to be good for me this time. Don’t make me work so hard that it turns into a struggle fuck.”

Your eyes closed and you bit your lip as Marcus continued to run his hands up your sides, down your breasts, and finally, finally down to your sweet spot. He used two of his thick fingers to spread your outer lips open and then massaged your clit slowly. Your breathing stuttered as your mind started to ooze away into bliss.

Marcus’s next words were spoken in his normal, sweet, even tone, and it contrasted gorgeously with the depraved words. “Are we good, baby girl? Are you going to be a good little fuckdoll for me? Or do I have to tie you down?”

~The End~

[ikeromantic]

Friends and Frenemies

A Mitsuhide Akechi fanfic - approx. 2800 words. This scene takes place after the events of the romantic epilogue. Mostly fluff, slightly spicy.

First: Mitsuhide and the Maiden

Previous: Kitsune's Day Out

Mitsuhide sat on the floor with his little mouse in his lap. His fingers stroked the nape of her neck as he listened intently to Sarutobi.

Sasuke and Miyake sat across from them on the edge of the bed. Miyake’s expression was somewhere between awe and exhaustion. He wasn’t saying much, just staring into empty space with a confused grin.

The ninja looked mildly pleased as he talked. “My professor took a little convincing. We had to call in the history department chair to talk to Miyake.”

“What did he want to know?” The chatelaine’s eyes were heavy with sleep. They’d spent the day walking around Kyoto, looking at historical sites - things Mitsuhide should recognize.

Of course, everything was so changed from his time that the places they visited may as well have been new. Even if they were the same structures, what lay around them had changed so much as to render the buildings and monuments unrecognizable.

Sasuke shrugged. “Details. It was like watching a verbal exam in a master class. And then he made Miyake pick out his own sword from a room of Sengoku period weapons. It was impressive watching him look each one over.”

At this, the warrior chuckled. “I almost didn’t. It was strange to see Kichihiroe looking so old and worn.”

Mitsuhide smiled. “But you did. So all is well.” He turned his attention back to Sasuke. “What is the benefit of bringing these men in on our secret?”

“Well, first off, this.” He handed Miyake and Mitsuhide campus ID cards. “You are both now officially visiting professors, with a stipend and everything. There was a small . . . additional favor they requested from you.”

“Which is?” Mitsuhide raised one eyebrow.

Miyake answered. “They want you to come in and answer questions. A lot of questions.” He wiped his brow. “They started in on me today and there is just no end!”

Sarutobi nodded a confirmation.

“So . . . they want to pay you to answer questions about the Sengoku era? And that’s it? That doesn’t sound so bad.” The chatelaine grinned.

Mitsuhide shook his head. “I am not sure it’s so simple. This interaction - couldn’t it cause -” he thought for a moment, trying to find the words. “A complication? If I let slip something they don’t know, or they tell me something that will happen?”

“A paradox.” Sasuke’s mouth curled up in the slightest smile. “I considered that. But we are already living in a parallel timeline. One in which you and Nobunaga live, as well as some other changes.”

“So the things they tell us, those aren’t things that will happen?” Miyake sounded a little tense as he asked the question.

“Right,” Sarutobi replied. “Or, mostly right. We can’t be sure how far apart our timeline is from the original, so I encourage you to forget anything you may hear.”

Mitsuhide snorted. “Once a truth is heard, it cannot be so easily forgotten.”

“True enough. Can’t unring the bell, as they say. But are you willing to take that chance and talk with the history professor anyway?”

“I will.” Mitsuhide stroked his little one’s neck with gentle fingertips. “It will be interesting, regardless. And you have gone to a lot of trouble to arrange things. It’s the least I can do to play along.”

“I appreciate that.” Sasuke gave a little bow. “So what did you two do today?”

Miyake elbowed him and gave the two lovers a knowing wink.

Mitsuhide’s little one blushed and covered her face. “No! Nothing like that! Miyake! We just went shopping. Oh - and there were these men -”

“Who kindly helped me pick up our bags when I dropped them. We were very appreciative.” Mitsuhide interrupted her before she could give away any more information about their run in with the modern day bandits. Not that he didn’t trust Sasuke and Miyake. He did - as much as he trusted anyone. But it was always wise to keep information to yourself until there was a reason to share.

Sasuke blinked. “Ok. Well. Tomorrow, I’d like to take you up to the university, Mitsuhide. If that’s alright. You can both come if you want to.”

“Oh! But I needed to run by the office for my job tomorrow! I wanted to give them my apologies for disappearing so suddenly, just when they offered me a position.” She bit her lip. “I guess it can wait though.”

“I can go with her to do that, if you want me to,” Miyake put in.

Mitsuhide nodded. “Yes, I think that’s a good idea. You two can run errands tomorrow while I satisfy the curiosity of some modern scholars.”

“Are you sure?” The chatelaine looked uneasy.

“I am.” Mitsuhide kissed her cheek. “Absence makes the heart grow fonder, does it not?”

After they made arrangements for the coming day, Mitsuhide and his little mouse trekked back to her flat, leaving Miyake and Sasuke to themselves. It wasn’t that he minded the company, but he wanted to have her to himself tonight.

They stopped at a ‘small’ grocery on the way home to pick up something for breakfast. While Mitsuhide had noticed the number of foodstalls, he had not considered an entire store with shelves full of food. He wanted to ask if this was normal, but one look at his little one’s face gave him the answer.

She was not surprised at all. With barely a glance at the stacks of fresh vegetables and fruits, she led him further into the store.

There were at least five types of vinegar, he noted. An assemblage of noodles that defied sense. Several types of rice. Beans. And a variety of things with names he couldn’t identify as food, all wrapped in bright packages. “Masamune would love this place,” Mitsuhide murmured.

“You think? Maybe we should bring him something back.” She smiled. “I’m surprised you thought of him just now.”

“He’s a -” Mitsuhide paused at the realization he was about to say friend. Not ally. Not colleague. Friend. He bit back the word and finished with, “man who loves his food.”

His little mouse didn’t appear to pick up on the omission. “He really is. And he wants everyone around him to enjoy it too.” She picked up a package of rice, then added, “I wish I was such a good cook.”

“I think you’re amazing.” Mitsuhide settled his palm lightly on her low back, reassuring.

She smiled wryly. “Says the man who doesn’t taste his food.”

“Kyubei thinks so too. And his taste buds work fine.”

“Mhmm. Kyubei would eat a pile of rocks and tell me it was delicious if he thought he was supposed to. But I appreciate the compliment.” She leaned against Mitsuhide and sighed. “I wonder how he’s doing right now.”

Mitsuhide considered. There were a number of things he wished he’d had time to tell Kyubei. And of course, he hadn’t counted on Azuchi being attacked but, “I’m sure he is well. Kyubei is resourceful, talented, and I’ve left him the tools he will need. You should worry less about him, and more about yourself.”

“What should I be worried about?”

He grinned and leaned down to place a kiss on her cheek. With his lips almost touching her ear, he murmured, “You should worry about what I will do if I don’t get you alone soon.”

His little one inhaled sharply, cheeks heating. Her eyes were bright and full of desire as she replied. “Then we’d better hurry.”

They got back to her flat soon after, and unpacked the groceries. With the last items put away, she sat in a kitchen chair and looked up at Mitsuhide shyly.

It never failed to amuse him how innocent she could be in moments like these. As if she couldn’t admit what she wanted no matter how badly she wanted it. Of course, he’d take full advantage.

“How should I use your bath, little mouse? Can you show me how it works?” Mitsuhide already had an idea, but what fun was that?

“Oh! Yes. Sure. It would be good to clean up.” She led him to her small bathing room. “This handle is hot. This one cold. And if you press this, it will activate the shower. Just be careful where you point the nozzle.”

Mitsuhide leaned over her, pressing close. “So this one is hot?” He turned the handle.

“Umm . . . yes but, I should probably . . . get out of the way . . . the bathroom isn’t big enough-”

“And this one is cold?” He turned the other handle.

She nodded. “Yes. So. Ah, first rinse off with . . . with the shower. And . . . and th-then fill . . .”

Her distraction was deeply amusing. Possibly caused by his breath on the back of her neck and the way her hips met his. Not that he was unaffected. The press of her hips against him was maddening. The slight friction of cloth, the denial of skin to skin touch he ached for. But this was his game, and he knew what came next. Delay only made victory all the sweeter. Mitsuhide pressed the shower, and water fell like warm rain over them.

“Mitsuhide!” She gave a little shriek as he pulled her to standing under the flow. Her clothes clung to her skin, revealing as much as they hid. He could not wait to peel them off her.

“Oh dear. What have I done? Now you’re all wet!” He smiled widely and slid his hand under her shirt, popping the buttons open one after another.

She playfully swatted his other hand as he reached for her skirt. “You totally did that on purpose! I know you did!”

He shrugged. “Perhaps.” Mitsuhide slid her shirt off and enjoyed the sight of water pearling over the rise of her breast. Her soaked bra looked a deeper blue than it had when dry. A good color for her. His hands slipped around behind her, reaching for the clasp.

“You know, if you wanted to bathe together, you could have just said so.”

“Mmm, but this was more fun.” His fingers fumbled with the odd hook-and-eye catches, finally releasing them. Her bra fell away. Mitsuhide relished the sight. “You should probably help me get the rest of these clothes off. I’m fairly certain you don’t bathe wearing them in this age.”

She laughed softly and reached up to cup his cheek. “My wicked kitsune. No. We don’t.” And then she kissed him.

***

Kyubei frowned at the short, dark-haired man in front of him. “You can cut the act, Ranmaru. I’d recognize you anywhere. Besides, your work on that scar is atrocious. Who taught you disguises? Were they blind?”

The page - spy and ninja as well - sighed and set down the basket he was carrying. “I thought the scar was pretty good. It really changes my face. What gave it away?”

“Your fingers are still stained with beetjuice, for one. And you didn’t blend the edges well enough. I can see bits of raw paste at your hairline.”

“Well damn. Alright. You caught me. Are you here to kill me?” Ranmaru’s tone was light, joking, but there was nothing funny about the way his fingers curled around the hilt of the short blade he wore at his hip.

Kyubei rolled his eyes. “If I was going to kill you, you’d already be dead. I came to find out what you know - and how you know it. Are you willing to have a conversation with me?” He left out the alternative, which was knocking the page senseless, dragging him back to Azuchi, and putting him in the dungeon. He wanted to avoid that outcome. It wouldn’t do anyone any good.

Ranmaru shrugged. “Alright. Fine. But you’re buying us something to eat. I’m starving!”

“I can do that.” He led the page out of the alley they were in - a spot chosen in case things got ugly - and back into a market street. Kyoto was full of people selling things. He had his pick of at least a dozen stalls and shops for food, but made a beeline for one in particular. The proprietor was one of Mitsuhide’s informants, someone Kyubei could trust if this chat went sideways.

The two men sat down at a back table and ordered sake and food. Ranamru’s preference for sweet things had not changed in his absence. They were getting stewed peaches, peaches with rice, and peach-jelly stuffed mochi. Not to Kyubei’s taste at all, but then, he hadn’t come here for the food.

“What do you know about the attack on Azuchi?” Kyubei wasted no time getting to the point.

Ranmaru shrugged. “Would you believe I didn’t know it was going to happen?”

“No.”

The page giggled. It was a high, false sound with no real mirth. “Well, I don’t blame you. I wouldn’t believe me either. But I really didn’t know that was coming. I knew something was . . . my - my Master was working with some people. And they were coming to Azuchi so I knew they had something in mind. I thought . . .”

Ranmaru’s throat bobbed, stuck on the words. He looked away and wiped at his face.

Kyubei sighed. “So you weren’t sure what was planned. What did you think might happen? Is that what made you run?”

“Yes.” His voice was strained and he hadn’t looked up. “I thought . . . maybe they would try to kill him. Nobunaga. A direct attack. Or, poison? I - I didn’t want . . . but I was . . .”

“You were afraid they might ask for your help. Or participation.” Kyubei’s voice was pitched low, for Ranmaru’s ears only. This was not a subject to be discussed lightly.

The page nodded.

“So you ran.”

He nodded again.

Kyubei rubbed the short growth of hair on the top of his head. It was coming in, full and dark, but it itched some days. Especially after spending time on the road, with no rest. Touching it had become a habit for him when he was anxious or unhappy. This conversation was not making him happy.

“I didn’t want to be the one to - you know. Nobunaga has - he’s always been good to- to me. I thought, let them do their own dirty work. I would g-go back to Kennyo. Offer to be, to do a-anything else.” Ranmaru finally looked up. His expression was one of abject misery.

“I don’t blame you. It can be hard to serve two masters. Even when their goals usually align . . . often the methods do not.”

Ranmaru smiled bleakly. “I guess you understand a little.”

The tea and sweets came, and for a brief few minutes, the two men ate and drank in silence.

Finally, Kyubei asked, “So why aren’t you with Kennyo now?”

“I can’t find him. I know he’s working with . . .” Ranmaru’s jaw clenched. “I can’t say. But, I don’t know where they went. Or what they are planning next.”

“I need you to tell me the names, Ranmaru. Assume that I already know them, and from you, I only need confirmation.”

“Fine. Then you say them. I’ll nod if you’re right.”

Kyubei smiled. “Kicho.”

Nod.

“Motonari.”

Nod.

“The ‘shogun’ in exile.”

Nod.

“I was hoping the last one was a no. We worked so hard to set that boy up, but I suppose Yoshiaki’s allies got to him.” Kyubei took a deep breath. “And you really have no idea what they will do next?” He watched Ranmaru for tell-tale signs of a lie.

“I wish I did. I’d find Kennyo and get him away from those stray dogs.” The page almost spat.

“So what will you do now?”

Ranmaru tugged at his darkened locks, twisting them around his finger. “I don’t know. I am afraid to return to Nobunaga’s side. Afraid they will ask me to betray him. But that makes me a traitor to my Master. I am damned either way.” His voice was flat, empty of self-pity or any other emotion.

“You could work for me.”

The page raised an eyebrow. “You know I turned on both my masters. That I am a coward. What would you trust me with?”

“Well, not disguises, clearly.” Kyubei caught the curl of a slight smile on Ranmaru’s lips. “I’d want you to gather information from the daimyo loyal to the shogun. Nothing to do with either of your masters directly. No need to dig yourself a deeper grave.”

“I’d report everything to the Ikko Ikki too.”

Kyubei shrugged. “I’m fine with that? If Kenny’s monks act on the information, I doubt it will be to prop Ashikaga up further.”

Ranmaru chewed at his lip, thoughtful. Finally, he nodded. “I guess I can do that. Just until I find where Kennyo has gone and what he needs of me.”

“Then we have a deal. But I do have one more question before I leave you.”

“What?” The page eyed him, suspicious again.

Kyubei tapped his finger on the table, almost afraid of his own question. Asking it would be giving information away, but he needed to know. “Have you seen or heard from Akechi since the night of the attack on Azuchi?”

Next: Uncomfortable Questions

[i-came-i-saw-i-loved]

Veni Vidi Amavi

Pairing: Doom Slayer x Reader

Reader type: gender neutral

Song:

Warnings:

An:

You spoke my name like it was holy. Like it was a tangible sense of salvation. Part 4.

"I clung to your hands so that something human might exist in the chaos. "

Hélène Cixous, from Olivier De Serres A Single Passion Two Witnesses," Love Itself: In the Letter Box (Polity Press, 2008)

You were home sitting at the dinner table. The one you having seen since you were a child. You smoothed your hand over the wooden table. It was both warm and cool to the touch.

When did you get here? How did you get here? You traced a finger over your name. Carved into the table when you were eight and just this side of unsupervised.

What happened to the demons? Was it all a nightmare?

But what about him. The Slayer? How does one imagine him?

Someone passed you a bowl of mashed potatoes. The baby blue bowl hot and heavy in your hands. You took the spoon and scooped some out. Dropping a large portion to you plate.

When did those green beans turn to corn? Maybe it was always corn.

You go for more and drop the spoon. Blood spills over your plate. The silver spoon covered in it.

The bowl falls from your grasp. Shatters as it hits the table. Soaks your lap and chest with blood.

You try to tell. To scream. It stick in your throat and claws at your tongue.

Desperation consumes you.

You reach for your father's hand in your panic. It's cold to the touch. You look up. Your body stills. Felling as if you dunked yourself into a pool of ice water.

That was not your father.

An Imps head looks back to you. Beady eyes and sharp toothed grin.

You go to stand. The chair clattering to the floor. The sound stalls your heart.

The Imp claws at your arm. Red rivers stream from your arm.

Pain.

Hurt.

Terror.

A flash of green.

.

You woke drenched in sweat and shivering. Chest heaving with the pounding of your heart. You wear heavy. Laden with lead. Not one part of you wanted to move. Feeling as if your were chained to the bed.

A sob racked through your throat. You felt sick. Shivering and shaking in the bed. A whimper leaves your lips.

You press your hand to your chest. To your lap. Feeling for anything akin to the blood that soaked you.

Nothing but your own sticky skin.

You sit up. Glance about the room. Trying to find something. Anything to help hold the terror at bay. You settle with your pillow. Hold it in your arms close to your chest. You buried your face in it. Body curls in on itself.

Dimly you are aware of your door opening. Soft blue light bathing your room from the hallway. You glance up.

The Slayer, still out of his amour. You shuffle closer to the back of your bed. Your back now flushed with the freezing wall. He stops at the foot of your bed and picks up a blanket you kicked off in your sleep.

Why was he here?

He stops closer. Pauses. Waits then comes to the left of you and sits and the edge of the bed. He's close enough you can feel the heat rolling off his body. You shiver. Suddenly aware of how cold you are.

The Slayer says nothing. Places the blanket next to him. You watch the shifting of his muscles. Moving like water beneath his skin. More so, you see the scars. Crossing and hatching across his back.

Those would have taken a lifetime to gather. Just what has this man been through?

There was a weird t like symbol between his shoulder blades. Like someone had branded him.

Without thinking you move. The pillow still in your grasp as you sit cross legged behind him. Stiling to see if he would move.

He didn't. Instead he grabbed ahold of something wound a round his neck. The metal chain clinking together in the silence of the room.

Slowly. Softly you press a finger to one of the scars in his back. He tensed and you pull away as if struck. He stills. You do it again. Nothing.

If anything he leans into it. Almost moving with you as you travel over them. Feeling raised skin and smooth scaring. You press your palm to the largest one. Streaming from his left shoulder down to his right hip. Vaugly you are aware of it wrapping around. Disappearing into the fabric of his pants.

You say that but the material looks soft. Silky, almost.

"What happened?" Your voice wavers. Catching against another choking sob. Slowly. Every so slowly your body was calming.

Safe.

He felt safe.

In answer he shifts his body towards you. One leg sitting on the bed the other planted firmly to the floor.

He takes your hand into his own. With the other he ghosts his fingers over your wrist. Still discolored and bruised from the cuffs.

But healing. Just as you are.

He looks to you. Envelops your hands in his. Sacred and heavy. Calloused and worn. But sturdy. Strong.

Safe.

"You are strong." His voice catches you off guard. Deep and rolling like thunder in the distance.

Your face burns and you look away. You don't feel very strong. Far from it honestly.

He grunts. Squeezes your hands. The next thing you knew you were being carried. Head resting on his chest as he hooks one arm beneath your knees and the other across your shoulders.

"I. What are you doing?" He says nothing. Still looking forward. You can see the faint hint of stubble on his chin. A small crescent moon scar is in his jaw.

You look around. Begin to notice the familiarity of the hallway you are in. "Are you taking me to the baths?" You say that as it it's not just a giant swimming pool. He responds with another grunt.

The Slayer carries you through the threshold of the door. Gently sets you down on your feet and points to the water.

"Are you telling me to take a bath?" A nod. "Why?" In response he plugs his nose with one hand and waves with the other. "Oh. So now I smell?" A small smile tugs at your lips.

"This is you getting back at me for saying that you stunk huh." He shrugs. Waves his hand in a so so gesture. "Well then. Get out." You push on his back. "Go on." Your giggling now. Trying to push your whole body weight into his.

You hear him laugh. Rolling and deep from his chest. It warms you to know that a man such as he could still find humor in things

"Oh c'mon! You're like, a billion times bigger than me!" He steps forward and you stumble. He turns. Laughs again. You stick your tongue out and for a moment you feel like yourself again. Before all of this. The literal end of the world.

You're happy. Having fun. Like you would with a friend.

You notice he has a goofy smile on his face. Making him appear younger. Less worn and tired.

Less of the weight of the world on his shoulders. And it might as well be. Going back time and again to fight this demons. To try to save earth. You are glad to see it lightened. Even for a moment.

It is then you notice the dog tags resting on his chest.

"You were in the military?" It's out. His face falls. A shielded wall once more. Guilts floods you.

Obviously not a good topic. How had you not notice them before? Did he just now put them on?

"M'sorry. I didn't mean-"

"Marines." He speaks. Soft and low.

You don't say anything. Just watch as he pulls them from around his neck. He shows you the dull and dented metal.

"Flynn B.J Taggart" You speak softly. Revenetly. He was giving you his name.

You snort.

"B.J?" He gently shoved your shoulder. Albeit chuckling himself.

He looks to you. Taps you chest. You smile.

"Y/n. Y/n M/n L/n." You look up through your lashes. Tilt your chin. Watch as he mouths the words.

In the dim lighting you catch the color of his eyes. A soft blue. Like looking up at the summer sky.

"Y/n." He smiles around your name. Speaks it as if it were a prayer. "Y/n." He says it again. You laugh. Smack at his arm.

"You say it anymore and it'll wear out." He grins.

"Y/n." He says it low and deep. Leans down to say it near your ear. A shiver runs through you. "Y/n." He says it again.

Flynn decided that in that moment. He would never tire of your name. Of you. Of that feeling deep in his chest.

And oh. That color darkening your face. And the shy look away you do with your eyes when your nervous.

"Slayer. There has been sighting of demonic activity near the arc base in Illinois. Should I start the portal." Vegas voice rang through the room and you heart all but jumped from your chest.

You coukd have sworn you heard The Slayer. Flynn. Growl.

"Well. I do have to take that bath." You spoke. He fixes you with a look. You look away again. Back up. Give a lopsided smile.

He presses a hand to the top of your head. Brings it down to cup your chin.  Draws his thumb just below your lower lip.

"Stay safe. Please." Before you could lose the courage you press a kiss to his cheek. Turn and leave to go get some clothes.

You were really going to need that bath now.

The Slayer was stunned. Frozen in place. It felt as if fire ran through him. Tingled the tips of his fingers. He touches the place your lips touched. Scruff scratched his fingers.

What did you mean by that? That kiss.

That fire reignited in his chest. That feeling increased ten fold.

He shook his head.

He had a job to go do.

Suiting up was quick and easy. An old habit mostly done my muscle memory at this point.

He stopped in front of the portal shotgun in hand. You words echoed in his thoughts.

"Stay safe. Please."

He thumbed the safety of the gun. Stepped through the portal.

Safe. Whole.

He had something worth coming back to now.

[actuallysaiyan]

My Personal Love Story: Obito Uchiha

Request: "hi bb, congratulations on 1k follower omg😭❤️ you deserve each one and more!! i love your event idea and you’re writing!! ughhh you’re such a good writer! my name is em, short for emmeline. i enjoy writing and reading, i like to travel a LOT. i love hanging out with my friends and family, but i consider myself a quiet person, i like to keep to myself haha. my love languages are physical touch, gift-receiving, and acts of service. my personality type is INFP, and i am a gemini. for dates i love amusement parks, going out for dinner, even having a picnic. just something that doesn’t have to do with staying at home, i personally feel like it’s more appropriate to go out on a first date. i love 90s music because it’s what i grew up listening to (my mom used to play 90s r&b all the time when i was a kid) i also listen to modern rap and hip-hop. for the character, could i request a smutty scenario with obito uchiha from naruto shippuden please? again, congrats on 1k love🥰💕" @lyracm (Hope you enjoy!!)

Your Song: Weak- SWV

Headcanons:

Obito was so shy with you when he first met you. You were the newest member in the Akatsuki after him, and he actually had to show you the ropes. You had mostly only joined because you had nowhere else to go. Most of your family had gone into hiding after the last war and you were the only person who didn’t need to hide.

He saw so much of himself within you. You were the first person to really understand him. Even if he was just playing the part of Tobi for so long, you truly wanted to know him. You became fast friends and soon it becomes obvious that you both have feelings for one another.

The first kiss is tentative and sweet, and Obito doesn’t push you or do anything to make you think he’s just using you. Just showing you what he looks like under the mask took so much time and trust to build, but Obito has been in love with you for so long. He hates having to hide from you.

He loves cuddling. He wants to spend the rest of his days cuddling with you and just holding you close in his arms. He hates whenever he has to spend long periods of time away from you. The smell of you, your warmth and the way you press against him in your sleep...those are pure heaven to Obito.

He is very protective of you. Even if you are a member of the Akatsuki and you can hold your own, he hates the idea of someone hurting you. He will jump in the way and protect you from any attack enemies direct your way. If any of the other members of the Akatsuki hurt you in any way, Obito isn’t afraid to teach them a lesson.

You’ll have to teach him so much when it comes to sex. He knows what feels good, but he’s so eager to learn how to make you feel good. Obito’s eagerness can sometimes result in him overstimulating you, but he makes up for it with amazing aftercare.

He’s a big fan of taking a long bath with you. When you both come back from a really long mission and you’re both so damn worn out, he’ll run you a bath and you both can soak in the tub for as long as you’d like(or as long as somebody else gets the same idea). Obito enjoys soaking in the hot water with you resting on him and just being able to run his hands all over you and massage you.

Obito has nightmares often, so when you’re both sleeping in the same bed, sometimes he wakes up screaming or crying. You’re always there for him and you always comfort him so well. Obito trusts you so much and he loves you, so you make him feel so safe.

You make a super good team together. Oftentimes you get paired to go on missions, and you and Obito always kick ass. When he’s playing his Tobi role, you always think it’s adorable and so much fun. The two of you are a very powerful fighting duo and most people do not want to mess with either of you.

Obito wants to spend the rest of his life with you. He doesn’t care about anything else anymore. All he wants is for you to be by his side and guide him to become a better person. He wants to learn how to love you in the best way possible as long as you let him.

Your First Time:

His kisses are clumsy, but you are so turned on you don’t even really realize how inexperienced his touches are. You are grinding against him, trying your best to get this stupid robe off of you and maybe to try and remove his. Obito pulls away from you to breathe, but you can tell he’s stalling a little bit.

“What’s wrong?” You ask, pulling away from him. He’s looking at you sheepishly, a pink tinge on his cheeks.

“I’ve never really done anything like this before,” He confesses. You blush a little yourself at hearing this, but you allow yourself a moment to process this.

“I’ll show you,”

You take it slower this time, guiding him into the kiss and taking the reins. You slip your tongue in his mouth, making him groan. He’s quick to learn what to do. You can tell he is aroused by the way he keeps thrusting up against you.

It doesn’t take you long to undress yourself. Obito does the same as he watches you uncover more parts of your body. You look so amazing, and Obito just wants to touch you all over.

“Let me please you, Obito.” Those words alone make his cock twitch. You kiss a trail from his lips down to his hips, making sure to nip and bite gently from time to time. He’s groaning and whimpering.

You take his cock in your hand, and Obito jumps up.

“It’s okay, just relax baby.” You coo and he tries to lie back down, but you start stroking him. Obito moans loudly as you rub his precum all over his length.

Once you wrap your lips around the head, you know immediately that Obito won’t last long. That’s okay, you know he’s got good stamina. It won’t take him long to get hard again, and in the meantime, you can show him how to please you.

“Feels so good,” Obito breathes as you begin bobbing your head up and down. You look up at him through your lashes, and the sight alone is making it hard for him to hold back on cumming.

You swirl your tongue around the head as you come back up for air. In one swift movement, you take all of his cock in your mouth. Obito groans and his hips stutter as the head hits the back of your throat. You can feel him trying not to buck his hips as he shoots jet after jet of his hot cum down your throat.

“I love you…” He whispers. He looks completely spent.

[cherrynojutsu]

Title: Like Gold

Summary: Sasuke grapples with love and intimacy regarding his developing relationship with Sakura after returning to the village from his journey of redemption. Kind of a character study on Sasuke handling an intimate relationship after dealing with PTSD and survivor’s guilt in solitude for so long. Blank period, canon-compliant, Sasuke-centric, lots of fluff and pining, slowly becomes a smut fest with feelings.

Disclaimer: I did not write Naruto. This is a fan-made piece solely created for entertainment purposes.

Rating: M (eventual nsfw-ness)

AO3 Link - FF.net Link - includes beginning/ending author's notes

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Chapter 7/?: Catalysts

Sasuke doesn’t indulge in baser needs often, despite the frustrating paradox that is the male endocrine system’s apparent determination to make him do so. He finds it feels… empty, after. Like there’s supposed to be something more, but instead there’s just whatever is situated above his head to stare at while his breathing levels out, an interminable abyss of silence and stars, or tree foliage, or apartment ceiling. Impulses and feelings of a sexual nature are probably normal for anyone his age, but in the past, satiating desires like this has made him feel guilty, given the context.

When he's not plagued by nightmares rife with gore and blood and bodies, or the occasional aching memory, his subconscious takes the opportunity to bombard him with dreams of a suggestive nature, having deduced somehow that it’s the most effective method to get him to… tend to things.

This variety of dream customarily involves pale pink hair, multifaceted eyes, and soft fingertips, branded into the part of his brain that controls his most base instincts with a hot iron.

He notes begrudgingly as he gazes at plain plaster above him, brows furrowed, that ostensibly, it works well enough, if the intricate mess of thoughts and feelings in his head and on his abdomen are anything to go by.

Sasuke would never admit it to anyone, but Sakura has headlined exclusively in nearly every sexually-charged dream he's ever had, and resultingly the majority of his sentient thoughts while indulging outside of dreaming, too. When they were Genin, it was innocent enough; he had reasoned that, being the main girl his age he associated with, it made sense his inadvertent dreams, beyond the scope of his control, involved her. He'd shaken it off in those early days as the by-product of the developing hormonal cocktail that is the pubescent masculine mind, and ignored the part of himself that kind of had a crush on her even then. Or definitively more than a crush, after the Chunin Exams and the hospital and jealousy.

He had tried convincing himself of the same thing at fourteen, once he'd left the village and had attempted to sever all bonds. It didn’t work, though; by that point he knew better, knew what the feeling he was trying to squash actually was.

Which meant it didn’t work at fifteen, either.

Nor sixteen, and definitely not seventeen, eighteen, or nineteen.

All of that has been wholly indecent on its own in the past, causing him to feel shameful every time it happens, and even more ashamed if it’s a rare day where he’s weak enough to act on it, a day where he wakes up mere seconds from an edge rather than minutes.

But this morning, he woke up on the tail end of all of that with the addition of freckles , of all things to fixate on, and he just knows he's never going to forget about them now, that they’re branded into his grey matter in perpetuity. Freckles just above the interior of a shoulder, eight of them, a small scattering he had been pressing his lips to, listening to a softly whispered Sasuke-kun, reaching around her with his only arm, so he could make her say his name like that again.

It is far from the first time he’s touched himself to the thought of Sakura, but it is the first time he’s indulged since they’ve been… together.

Except this time felt… different.

Less like an unrealistic reverie he should try to abstain from and more like an eventuality. Less guilt, too, or rather, almost none, because he’s in a relationship with her now, and he’s pretty sure he’s supposed to have feelings like this regarding her. Not that he is anywhere near ready to do anything about them, because he absolutely is not; he’s not certain he even comprehends that level of vulnerability, to touch another person and allow yourself to be touched by them, though he badly wants to, someday.

No, Sasuke doesn’t indulge in baser needs often… but he did this morning, when he woke up teetering just on the precipice, fantasizing about tiny tan flecks seen and unseen, and he’s trying to work through how he feels about it, this guilt surrounding the fact of not feeling guilty like he ordinarily does, as well as the lingering curiosity he’s struggling to force down regarding how many other freckles Sakura has.

Even moreso, he yearns for soft words that he has often thought may be sentimental to the point of being utterly quixotic. It's why he doesn’t typically submit to this kind of inclination in the first place; it’s meaningless on one’s own, he secretly thinks, though he has nothing to compare it to. No sense of connection or true lasting fulfillment like he imagines there must be, for people to talk about it the way they do; just pleasure that's there for a blinding scattered second and gone the next, with nothing tenderhearted or meaningful in the moments following as his vision refocuses and he picks up the pieces.

He stares at his ceiling, an aporia of longing and complicated compulsions ricocheting in the hallways of his head, or perhaps from his skull to the roof and back again, an absurd push and pull that leaves him with more questions than answers.

Has she ever thought about him the way he thinks about her?

What would it sound like, Sasuke-kun, when she’s like that?

Is it okay to feel like this, now? To think about her in this regard?

Sasuke is accustomed to not sleeping well - it comes with the territory of his lived experience, an unfortunate fact of life he’s somewhat learned to deal with - but during the mission to Sand, he'd slept fairly restfully, though in short increments of five or six hours. That's apparently the tipping point of how long he gets to go without being sojourned by some variety of vision in the night.

He eventually makes his way to the shower, using torrid water and soap to double cleanse what’s left of his mess. That's a big contributor to his consternation, too; it's so embarrassingly messy that it’s impossible to imagine ever doing anything like it with her . He flips the dial to cold after he’s bathed for the better portion of five minutes, because serpens caput is still burned into his retinas, and he’s hoping against hope to freeze it out of himself like he has tried to do with shame in the past.

It doesn’t work; it just induces shivering, algidity overwhelming the senses but doing nothing to distract the mind.

He shoves his face into his book after, desperate for the distraction a proverbial fiction featuring an old fisherman can provide and thinking once again that he needs to acquire a lamp. Anything to get the thought of pressing his lips to her freckles out of his head, because he’s pretty sure if he keeps thinking about it, he’ll have to take care of things for the second time today, and then he really won’t know how to feel.

So when a banging erupts on his apartment door shortly following eight, followed by a shout of, “TEME! I'm here, let’s go!”, all he can think is finally, because he knows it will at least get his mind off of this strange lack of guilt and a curiosity he’s not ready to unpack yet. The book helped, but he thinks he needs the challenge a fight against Naruto can provide to truly leave behind this level of prurience. He doesn’t know how he’s going to look her in the eye when they meet at three as they planned, otherwise.

Sasuke shoves on his sandals and grabs his chokuto before opening the door. “So you finally showed. Thought you'd sleep all morning.”

Naruto’s eyes narrow, indignant and already launching into a retort. Good. Maybe he’ll get some iota of order knocked back into him, enough to put compelling constellations away for the time being.

XXX

Sasuke feels monumentally better by noon. It’s another draw, an absolute whirlwind of swinging limbs that made it impossible to focus on anything else. He didn’t take joy in it necessarily, and he suspects Naruto bruised his ulna bone to the extent it almost cracked, but it helps, the diversion of pain; the tinge he feels when he moves it is a welcome hindrance. They’d stuck mainly to taijutsu and clashing weaponry, so physically, he’s pretty exhausted.

They’re resting in the dirt, making a valiant attempt at rehydrating. It’s moderately hot for this time of year, barely on the cusp of mid April, but it’s seeming like the Konoha heat will be returning with the same vengeance it always does. A small trickle of sweat sinks its way down his back.

Sasuke feels nearly normal again. Or normal to the extent he generally feels, anyways. He gets the urge to do something good - to tip the scale, so to speak.

"...The cutting board works. Thank you." It’s not what he’s most thankful for right now, but it’s a nice thing to say as substitution.

His friend grins at him. "Welcome! It was all me, by the way. Hinata-chan didn't even help me pick it out!" Naruto scratches his head, downing more water. He’s moving rather slowly, as if he is sore, too; Sasuke thinks perhaps he came close to beating him this round.

They stare upwards for a while, soaking in the sun as clouds roll lazily by. Birds fly overhead, finches and song sparrows twittering their selections, collecting materials to build more nests for this new season. It’s another effective distraction, one that fills him with a sense of nostalgia, replacing his earlier sense of compunction regarding the mystifying concept of physical love and the whims that accompany it.

Naruto speaks up after a bit. "Ne, teme, wanna go to the market with me? Hinata-chan asked me to get some groceries and some stuff for the backyard."

Sasuke glances at his teammate and contemplates. It can't hurt. He did want to pick up potatoes to make actual curry with, and he could get some other things, too. He'll still have time to shower before he meets Sakura at the hospital.

"...Sure."

Naruto takes longer to rise than he does, shuffling carefully as if he is in pain, but once he’s standing, he seems fine enough, stupid grin slapped on his face at Sasuke’s agreement to go with. They set off in the general direction of his building so he can drop off his weapon first. He gets dirty looks sometimes, walking around, though it’s not nearly as bad as when he first returned and it doesn’t bother him on the same level that it used to. When he’s with Naruto or Sakura, he gets less of them, but he can't imagine a sword strapped to his back in the market will do much to help his reputation.

Naruto doesn't allow the easy silence to last. "Y'know, teme, it's really good to have you back in the village. It feels like everything's finally coming together. We'll have to do some fun stuff this summer. And also in the fall!” Gears are turning behind cerulean eyes, and he adds, ”...Hmm, and the winter, too!"

"...Yeah." He stares at the mountain, thinking about what cherry blossom trees look like in summer and fall and winter. It will be nice to see the one across the street change colors throughout the seasons. Or the one on the hill, where they're going later today. He has seen their like numbering in the thousands, scattered everywhere on his journey - he’s highly cognizant of them, for obvious reasons - but he hasn’t been granted the privilege of watching the same one through the whole of a year’s growth cycle in a long time.

"Sakura-chan seems really cheery lately, too. Can't imagine why." The second sentence is said flippantly, without any real conviction, as if Naruto knows exactly why.

Sasuke glances at his teammate, neck warming and heart skipping a little at the mention of her. He doesn’t think he’ll ever get tired of hearing that Sakura is happy from secondhand sources; it makes him feel like he’s doing something right for once. Maybe not all his impulses are complicated in nature enough to require dissection, as he was accustomed to doing when he was away; spending time with her is one, and he's been indulging it often.

He briefly entertains the idea of outright telling Naruto that they're together, then, but the dobe is moving on before he comes up with the words. "Well, anyways. Wanna spar Monday morning, if neither of us get a mission by then?”

That’s… specific. Maybe he doesn’t need to say anything to him, after all; he’s sure it’s no coincidence that Naruto is asking about the exact time period Sakura is busy training with Ino, probably as aware of her schedule as Kakashi is. Their old sensei might have told him, he supposes, or maybe Sakura said something; Sasuke wonders when he last saw her.

“...Sure. If you think you can handle it.”

The response he gets is a slug on the left shoulder, but it’s not overly hard. Sasuke narrows his eyes in response more out of habit than any real malice. He sees as Naruto’s hand retreats and slips out of a fist that words are written on his palm. He didn’t notice it throughout the morning due to their hands constantly being locked around weapons or thrown in punches, and he resists the urge to roll his eyes; it's likely a grocery list.

Naruto leans against the brick downstairs while Sasuke drops off his sword, and then they head to the main market area as the dobe chatters. It’s fairly busy, it being a Saturday, but it’s not intolerably so; most people are busy eating around now.

Sasuke is completely unsurprised when Naruto beelines straight for the noodles; naturally he would be out of them. He takes the opportunity to procure a blend of wild rice. Thus far he only has white and brown in his own pantry, and he’s been trying to eat it often. He's always liked rice, but it’s high in calories, too, an easy way to try putting on weight. Another variety to choose from would be beneficial.

He trails after his friend to the baking supplies next, where Naruto examines containers of flour and sugar. Sasuke concludes Hinata must bake, because he’s confident any cookie prepared by the dobe could not possibly be edible. While his teammate is occupied, Sasuke turns the corner and procures a half dozen eggs, a large bag of potatoes, and two different varieties of tomatoes. The extra five pounds of weight held in the crook of his arm doesn’t do wonders for his bruised bone situation, but it’s not wholly unbearable; he’s fairly used to dealing with pain.

“Hinata-chan said to go to the gardening stall on the north end,” Naruto says once they’ve paid and exited the building, so they begin a course in that general direction. “She said they have the best perennial bulbs; that means they come back every year!”

Sasuke twitches, surprised he can even pronounce the word perennial if he’s lived this long without knowing what one is.

“Anyways, she wants to plant some, uh…” His voice trails off, and he peeks at his hand, where Sasuke now sees the names of flowers written in feminine writing that has to be Hinata’s.

Of course. Like he could spell the words, let alone read his own sloppy handwriting.

“Iris, phlox, and uh… echo-na-na-chee-ah.”

“Echinachea,” Sasuke corrects dully, giving him a withering look.

“Sure! That! She wants to plant those in the backyard, kind of line the house with them, since the front is looking pretty nice now. She said to get bulbs; they root better. They might bloom this year, but if not, they’ll for sure come in next year!”

“...And she entrusted you with this?” Sasuke asks, raising an eyebrow.

Naruto just laughs, utterly unphased. “Duh, that’s what the list is for, teme. Hinata-chan is super smart like that. Putting it on my hand makes sure I don’t lose it!”

They meander to the northern edge of the market, past the congregation of other stalls selling seeds and garden starters. It's getting towards the end of planting season for Fire Country, but there is still plenty to choose from here, allegorical gates of green swinging open in salutation. They pass some tomato plant starters, already starting to climb their cages, but Sasuke decides against it; his hand is full presently, and the bone still kind of hurts, and none of them are red heirloom tomatoes anyways, being smaller variations like plum or cherry or grape. He likes all tomatoes, honestly, but if he was going to grow one, he’d just want the one of a favorite to worry about. Repotting a starter would also require a planter, which he doesn’t have; another thing to carry.

The stall Naruto leads them to is probably the nicest one there, judiciously laid out and everything labeled neatly with precise calligraphy. The few tables the vendor has are overflowing with perennial starters, but Naruto goes to the three vertical displays of seeds and bulbs, so tall they are at eye level with both of them. They’re filled to the brim with diminutive packages, printed with large pictures of the flowers they contain the beginnings of, along with genus names and common names in smaller text. The blond examines them, surveying his hand, then the display, then back to his hand again in scrutiny.

Sasuke watches, resisting the urge to sigh and waiting for the inevitable.

“Hmm… I guess this would be a lot easier if I knew what any of these looked like. Gonna have to read them all.”

Sasuke rolls his eyes and steps forward to point to the section of iris bulbs to start with. He gives him a minute to work out which colors to pick, observing the throng of people entering and exiting around them, young and old and in-between.

Phlox are next; he directs his teammate to the appropriate section, where there are quite a few options of hues. Naruto examines them as if he is making a grand decision transformative in nature, mumbling to himself.

“Hmm… She likes blue and purple. Maybe I should…”

His own gaze wanders as he tunes Naruto out, taking in pictures of begonias and caladium on plastic shiny in the sunlight, before his vision locks on the far display.

He wanders over to it as if his body is moving of its own accord.

There are several varieties of lilies, he learns as he scans the packaging, oriental, trumpet, and what is apparently called nerine. White nerine lilies had been the variety his mother grew, lining their yard with curved porcelain petals, clusters emanating from many single stems.

He sets his groceries at his feet to free up his hand, picking up one of the packages to read the instructions on the back. His arm aches as he does so, but he couldn’t care less.

Nerine lily bulbs require good drainage. If there are still puddles in the prospective planting area 5-6 hours after rain, locate another site, or amend the soil with organic material to raise levels 2-3 inches. Nerine lilies also require soil that is somewhat gritty, though it also must be organically rich. Adding compost may increase nutrient content.

In spring, choose a location in full sun. If you are in a hotter region, site them where they will receive morning sun and afternoon shade, and plant the bulbs with an inch of the slender top above the soil surface. The top of the bulb is the area that looks like the stem of an onion. Install bulbs 8 to 11 inches apart for a massed look.

Nerine bulbs develop foliage that gather sun rays and strengthen the plants during the spring and summer months. Flower stalks develop in the fall. Provide water when the plants are actively growing, and very little when they are dormant.

You may cut the final flower stems to display decoratively. This will not hurt the plants and the cuts last long periods of time indoors. After they finish blooming for the year, cut off any remaining flower stalks. Your plants will rest for the winter months before sending up new growth in the springtime. Over time, nerine lilies will form clumps. They like to be crowded, so don’t feel pressed to divide them unless flower production begins to decrease. Clumps can then be dug, split apart, and moved to other parts of the garden, or shared with friends.

When Sasuke looks up, deep in thought, he notices Naruto searching for what he assumes is echinacea, flitting stiffly at random between the first two displays and scratching his head. Wordlessly with the package of lily bulbs still in hand, Sasuke points to the bottom right corner of the first, where several color selections are.

“Thanks, teme!” Naruto plows back to the specified stand and stoops down comically slowly, though Sasuke barely sees, gaze drawn pensively back to the packet he was examining.

The memorial stone has decent drainage, aside from the occasional hard rain like last weekend; that will become less common as the weather warms, and one or two monsoons a summer never drowned his mother’s lilies. Shade in the afternoon could be an issue, though. There’s a large oak tree on the west side that might cast some protection over it, but he only ever visits under the cover of night, so he’s unsure. He would have to examine the trajectory in person to gauge.

He considers the market bag the groceries were handed to him in earlier, studying it closely.

Carefully, he puts the package back where he found it, though his eyes linger on it. He’s no gardener, not like Sakura is, and besides, his arm hurts.

XXX

He’s leaning up against one of the blue columns outside of the hospital when Sakura emerges at three, sprightly as ever. She’s holding the two journals and the medical text from their first trip to the library; she said yesterday that she needed to return them, but there shouldn’t be any new ones she needs to check out just yet. He hadn’t stayed terribly long after they’d finished the tenmusu because he needed to shower and write his mission report, but they’d made plans to swing by the library and journey back up the hillside to read together again. There was also mention of possibly picking up food afterwards, to take to her place. Hazel Wood must be in her tote, hooked around her shoulder.

“Sasuke-kun,” she greets cheerfully. “Whew. It’s getting warm out already.”

“...It is,” Sasuke comments before he extends his hand for her texts, his own already held there, a silent offer to carry them for her.

She blushes as she passes them to him, sliding them into his hand. His eyes drift to the freckle on her cheek, and he wipes his mind blank by sheer willpower alone as they head east. The books aren’t as heavy as the groceries had been earlier, so it doesn’t hurt as much, but he's wondering at this point if the bone might actually have a small crack. He thinks he should ask her to look at it; maybe later, at her apartment.

“My balcony days may be numbered by now, at least until the fall comes,” Sakura observes as they meander.

He contemplates. “...Do you sit out there often?” It is so utterly befitting of her that he thinks he can picture it, her reading out there, surrounded by plants. He wonders if she ever admires the night sky. Their team had stargazed sometimes, on missions that first year as Genin.

Green eyes settle on him from his right. “I like to, when it’s nice out. A lot of times in the summer it gets too hot, though there is an occasional night when it’s cool enough. Fall is really the best for it. You can see the changing leaves from above. Even if it's a chillier day, it’s pleasant with some tea and a blanket in the evening."

He debates for a long moment, but decides against bringing up stout squirrels or chestnut-flavored everything or Naruto slipping on a leaf.

“...It sounds nice,” he comments simply instead, wondering if he’ll be invited to sit with her on her balcony, once fall arrives. They would have to sit kind of close; the space doesn’t seem very big from below, and it's cluttered with greenery.

Sakura smiles up at him, a look that says she agrees with his assessment.

Then, she offers softly, "You can sit out there sometime with me, if you'd like."

His neck warms; all he can do is nod and avert his gaze elsewhere, an abundance of something tender and sweet flaring to life in his belly.

Returning the books barely takes two minutes; they’re wandering towards the outskirts of the mountain in short order. Sakura sprawls in the same spot she did last time, so he takes up the same position, too, leaning up against the trunk of the tree, stable and strong.

And then his eyes catch on another freckle she has, this one near her elbow, and all he can think about is the slightly textured consistency of his ceiling, and whether the impulse to press his lips to her skin without guilt was an okay thing to feel.

She reads and he more contemplates than reads for about an hour, sprawled beneath the scant amount of shade provided by this tree that has lost its petals, trading them in for florets of a greener variety. It’s pleasant, once he can drown his inner disarray of thoughts. He eventually gets through a sliver of his book, though turning the pages is a little cumbersome, tinged lightly with pain. Perhaps he shouldn’t wait until later to ask her to examine his arm.

Sakura finishes her own book, though she keeps the pressed petal between its pages; she must have gotten through more of it while he was on the way to and from Suna. She just reclines there, after, looking up at the sky with her arms at her sides, near exactly the relaxed pose she used to lie in when they were younger.

Sasuke finishes the passage he’s on, and marks his place with the petal she’d plucked from his hair last week, before pointedly setting the text aside and following her eyes to the azure. Fluffy clouds are floating by as the sun inches closer to the west horizon, pushed steadily by the breeze.

“How is Ichika’s recommendation?” She questions.

“...Interesting.” He genuinely is enjoying reading it, despite his aberration.

Her head angles towards him, lying against a gnarled root at a slightly different angle. Her expression is curious, like she’s encouraging him to elaborate.

“Simple, but heavy with metaphors.” He considers for a second, then adds, “You might like it. Poetic.”

Full lips twist upwards. “Maybe I’ll read it next. Her recommendations are usually pretty apt; she gets a good read on people.”

“...How was yours?”

“Hmm.” She pauses, as if thinking it over. “A girl and her mother who get caught up in some bad luck. They inherit an estate - that’s where the title comes from - and supernatural things start happening. It’s kind of a story within a story situation; the grandmother they inherited the house from was an author, so they start going back and reading her writing for clues.”

“...A mystery.” It seems like she’ll read any genre. Mysteries would probably entertain her; she’s always liked to solve things.

She laughs, music to his ears. “Yeah, I suppose it is. It was pretty good. Well written; better than the last one.”

There is a pause.

“...Maybe I’ll read it next,” he echoes, her same words from earlier.

Green sparkles at him, amused before she shifts back towards the firmament.

“...Sounds like a book club.”

It is the most Sakura joke. He huffs a ghost of a laugh as more gauzy clouds drift idly by. It is peaceful, sitting here underneath the same sky as her, observing in easy silence through branches with fresh emerald buds.

And then Sasuke flexes his forearm, shifting slightly, and it still hurts. He considers; she probably won’t mind.

"...I think Naruto cracked my arm bone," he finally confides.

She turns to him, expression fluctuating immediately into one of disquiet, pink brows knotting closer in concern. He blinks and she's standing already, walking over and sitting cross-legged in the nearest open space, an indent in gnarled roots that she navigated through and found a place in as if it were nothing.

Wordlessly, Sasuke holds it out for her to inspect once she’s seated, and she gently rests her fingertips on his forearm.

"It’s from this morning?” Sakura asks, looking concerned in a way that makes his heart thump a little. Or maybe it’s from her hands encircling his skin.

He nods; she must have deduced that they trained earlier. She prods gently before threading green chakra beneath his skin towards the bone, probing for a break.

She frowns. "Oblique fracture in the ulna, though it's very slight and non-displaced.” Her gaze flicks up to him, and all at once, it’s the exam room again, him hyper aware of how close she is to him even though this is clinician Sakura. “I’ll fix it; you really shouldn't have been carrying anything on it."

It takes him a moment to realize she’s referring to him carrying her books earlier, because he’s thinking about the groceries from the market, which were definitively heavier. Her proximity and the aroma of tart berry and the freckle on her cheekbone are all incredibly distracting. Especially the freckle. He peers at her fingers, glowing verdant, and notices one on the inner portion of her right wrist, too.

"...Sorry." He says finally, flicking his eyes back up to her nervously after a long minute is spent mending marrow back together. She inclines her head back down to his arm, apparently accepting his apology for not mentioning it sooner. It's an odd sensation; he can feel the crack fusing from the inside out, ataractic chakra seeping into the diaphysis to fortify.

He feels like he should clarify, so he adds as she works, eyes fixed on her face which has settled in concentration, “I thought it was just bruised at first.” She nods as if that makes sense, working on it for another minute or so without glancing up.

He hopes she's not mad at him. Sasuke shifts his gaze downwards, something in him sinking.

“Flex it, then bend, please,” she requests, not moving her digits; she must need to feel the arm move to determine if it’s healed. He does as she asks and it’s notedly improved, no lingering pain.

“It’s better. Thank you.” He looks upwards just as she does, hoping the jade will still be soft on charcoal.

It is, startlingly so, and she’s flushing all of a sudden, dropping her hands from his arm and rising to her feet a step away, as if she, too, just realized how close they were. It's different here, daylight and not part of their routine like her entryway is becoming.

“You’re welcome,” she says somewhat hastily, complexion darkening. He’s not sure he’s much better; his neck is warm, and he remembers very specifically where each of her fingers had just been on his skin, like the ten points of contact are singed into his epidermis, and likely his grey matter, too.

As he tries to force his pulse to even out, Sakura adds, softly, “You could have just come in with him.”

His brows furrow in confusion. “...What?”

Sakura blinks, countenance appearing as if she is sorting through a problem in her head. Pink dissolves back to her normal coloring.

“Naruto came in with a slipped back rib, earlier today. I assumed it was from sparring with you.” She rolls her eyes, then. “He went and got groceries before coming in; he had them with him. Luckily nothing chilled; he had to wait for a bit.”

"...He didn't say anything about his rib." Now the slow rising and crouching is making more sense.

She sighs, closing her eyes for a second as if something has become clear, but she only replies, "Ah. Of course."

"...Wouldn’t shut up?"

"...Yeah." She turns away slightly, cheeks stained anew for some reason; it makes him curious what their third teammate babbled to her about. "He said as I was kicking him out that he was going to plant flower bulbs with Hinata this afternoon. He showed me the ones he picked. It’s good timing; the perfect time of year to plant some. Pretty soon it'll be too warm."

He lets those words drizzle slowly into his being, a little gentler than a summer monsoon.

"...Our next Hokage can't pronounce echinacea," he eventually tells her.

She chuckles with mirth, a sweet sound he finds relieving; she must have gathered he was present for that endeavor, now, and she can't be too mad at him if he can still make her laugh. Sasuke inwardly hopes she doesn’t gather that he also got groceries; he doesn’t think she’d be very impressed. It was kind of stupid to do that with a questionable arm, in retrospect.

"No," Sakura acknowledges finally, appearing highly entertained. "And he didn’t know what a perennial was until this morning, yet he’s planting an army of them. Probably without reading the directions."

They look over the village together for a lengthy moment in which he considers text printed on the back of a white package.

Then she says his name, so quietly it’s almost a whisper. "Sasuke-kun.”

He angles to her, and sweet jade is on him again, ebbing seafoam cresting as the late afternoon sunlight hits her.

"Thank you for telling me about your arm. In the future, please come to the hospital, if I'm working. You can wait in my office, if you’d prefer. I don't mind; use the window.” Her expression changes to troubled, and suddenly she is no longer the clinician version of Sakura; everything is tinged with something more, something that burns him in its intensity. “You shouldn’t just… suffer in silence, if something hurts. Even if you think it’s nothing. Please tell me."

Oh. She’s not mad, just worried. Heat grazes his ears, and he swallows, staring down at his forearm.

He wants to be close to her. He really does.

"Okay,” he agrees, and means it, carefully meeting green.

They head down the hill together to seek dinner before the rush hits, deciding to go to the yakitori stand she mentioned when he first returned. She chatters about how Naruto wants to have a bonfire in his backyard, once summer’s here and everything is planted.

“...He’s excited about his yard,” Sasuke comments after they’ve ordered, leaning against the wall of the exterior waiting for their takeout. He requested his without the sauce, since Sakura said it’s on the sweeter side for yakitori.

Sakura grins, and she’s really pretty, shadows of a nearby tree dappling her skin, cheeks still red because he paid. It’s only fair; she’s been feeding him. “Yeah, he is. I’d like to see their flowers and garden in the back, eventually. I’m sure once they’ve got it how they want it, they’ll have all kinds of get-togethers back there. Last year we carved pumpkins at their place, instead of at Ino’s and Sai’s; there’s less mess to clean up if it’s outside. He said today that you should come this year.”

“...What?”

She blinks as if remembering something, then smiles sheepishly. “So I never mentioned this, because it happened after I…” She flushes, and she looks away for a second. “...After I sent a letter for the month already, but Sai learned about this artistic thing they do in the Land of Woods, a couple years ago.” Her gaze shifts back to his. “They hollow out pumpkins and carve designs into them, in late October. Warding off evil spirits as they go into the cooler season or something; they put them on their doorsteps with candles in them so the carvings light up the night. It’s odd, but I think it’s become a tradition now. It’s fun, once you get the hang of it. We roast the seeds with salt and Hinata bakes pumpkin bread.”

That sounds entirely odd and completely characteristic of Sai; he supposes there is the artistic angle to consider. Sasuke passed through the Land of Woods three separate times, but never in the fall. “What kind of designs?”

She smiles as if she’s trying not to laugh; his expression must be that of one who is exceedingly perplexed. He supposes it’s not an expression he wears often. “Well, they’re supposed to be scary, I think, but we don’t really do well at making them that way. They’re more funny or decorative. Sai makes pretty good ones, I guess, mean faces with sharp teeth.”

“...What do you carve?”

Her eyes twinkle. “I tried a leaf, the first year, and a crescent moon the second. Sai and I teamed up to carve one for Kakashi-sensei, too, last year; a scarecrow with a cat.”

A crescent moon is not at all what he would have guessed she’d gravitate towards; he thinks immediately of the Six Paths Yin Seal that once adorned a hand he no longer has. Then he comprehends the final part of that sentence.

“...A cat?”

“Oh. Yeah, he got a cat.”

“...His summons are dogs.”

She giggles. “Yeah, Naruto and I thought it was weird at first, too, but he does kind of seem like he’d be more of a cat person overall, the more we thought about it.” Sakura shrugs. “He’s in the village most of the time now, being Hokage, so I guess he thought he could be around enough to take care of one? They’re more low-maintenance than a dog would be. I usually get tasked with feeding it and changing its litter, when he travels to watch the Chunin and Jonin Exams.”

Momentarily, he wonders if Sakura knows what’s under Kakashi’s mask; their old sensei allowing her into his space in his absence may have given her opportunities for some form of low-key reconnaissance on the matter.

Then his brain seizes on another notion, one that’s far more amusing, because she said she teamed up with Sai, and that can only mean one thing.

“...What does Naruto carve?”

Sakura’s grin widens as if she perceives exactly what thought he’s just had. She probably does; she knows him well. “He’s terrible at it. His never look like anything; just orange mush. He loves it, though, and Hinata puts it on their front step anyway.”

He snorts. Figures.

A bell dings, so they peer back in, and sure enough, their food is ready. Sakura steps forward to collect it, thanking the worker, but as she turns, she pauses.

Sasuke follows her gaze, and sees none other than their third teammate in the street, walking their direction and waving emphatically. He’s wearing a different pair of pants, knees absolutely covered in dirt and grass stains.

“Oi, teme! Sakura-chan!”

Sakura glances up to him before swiveling towards the road, their food in hand; Sasuke trails close behind, pushing apart the hanging banners of the stand as he steps beyond the threshold of the restaurant.

“Naruto,” Sakura greets when they’re out in the open.

“...Dobe.”

“Looks like you’ve planted everything,” Sakura says more than asks, gesturing to his pants as evidence.

“Hehe, yep, all of ‘em! It was work, but it will be worth it, later in the year.” Naruto scratches his head, grinning. Sasuke lets those words sink in, too, drenching dead roots.

“And now you’re getting Hinata yakitori as a treat?” Sakura pushes, seeming incredibly amused.

“Well…” Naruto looks away bashfully, grinning ear to ear. “Yeah. Gotta repay her somehow. She has good ideas. I just follow her lead.” He looks back to them, then. “Did you tell teme about all our awesome plans?”

Sasuke’s focus falls to Sakura, who is flushed, biting her lip in a smile.

“I may have started to.”

“Well, good, because our yard is going to be totally the best, and if he thinks he’s getting out of it...” the dobe points at him accusingly, “Then I’ll kick his ass!”

Sasuke scoffs. “As if you could.”

Sakura shakes her head, pink locks fluttering with the motion. “Always with the physicalities... Anyways, I’m sure it will be lovely, when everything finally comes together.”

An uncommonly stretched pause passes where blue eyes zero in on the food container Sakura is holding, before they travel up to the two of them.

The grin shifts to something remarkably tender.

“...Yeah. I’m sure it will be.” He says it with the utmost confidence, like he is as certain about it as he is about the sun rising tomorrow, and Sasuke gets the sense that he is no longer referring to gardening.

The moment passes, and then Naruto is punching them each on the shoulder respectively and sidestepping away towards the yakitori stand. “Anyways, gotta go, so I’ll catch ya later! I’m guessing you have plans of your own.”

Sasuke blinks as their teammate disappears into the restaurant, ears burning a little. When his vision travels down to his right, Sakura is blushing a dark red. She meets his gaze, smiling sheepishly.

They turn to go to her building. The entire way there, Sasuke considers everything in the beginnings of a green that seems endless, nurtured by people from all walks of life. He has been noticing it this whole time, since his return, but now he's thinking about how dull it would be without it, whether it’s dirt roads or lifeless grey granite. This is not the wilds, where seeds sprout unabated. Here, one must put in the work to grow things, find suitable locations and till the soil.

When they reach Sakura’s apartment, his eye lingers on her plants as he follows her inside. She sets the takeout on the table by her window. A shadow of a leaf from the jasmine above them is cast hazily out of focus on her left cheek.

“Would you like any sauce with yours? I could make some teriyaki sauce quick, or I have lemons I’ll be cutting up anyway for mine.”

“...Lemon?” Citrus complements chicken, he knows, but he understands that to mean she’s planning on putting it on hers, over top of the yakitori sauce.

Her lips curve upwards. “I like it on other things, too. It’s good on yakitori.”

So Sakura slices a lemon and it sits on the center of the table between them as they eat. She drizzles her yakitori with three of them, and he takes the other three. The chicken is pretty good, tart with the citrus and seared alongside green onions. It’s still warm, as it wasn’t a long walk to her place at all, a convenient sort of sustenance.

“...What else do you like lemon on?”

She chews thoughtfully, swallowing before answering. “Hmm, a lot of things. Fish, even ones that are usually served with lime. Pork. I like it on vegetables, too. Salads, pasta, rice. Most desserts that include lemon I like, as well.” She pauses again, and adds, “Lemonade, if it’s homemade.”

No wonder they’re always in her fridge. “...And tea.”

His heart flips at the way she smiles at him.

“...And tea,” she agrees.

They watch the streets fill and empty from her window, finishing the meal in a companionable reticence, smelling faintly of citrus rind and shadowed by greenery from above.

He helps her prepare decaffeinated sencha after, trying not to stare at the freckle on her cheek. He’s pondering this morning further, the notions of impetus and yearning, and also the way she says his name, but this time uttered softly under a cherry blossom tree with an invitation into her office, if something hurts.

Sakura cares about him. A lot. Sasuke knows this, has known for years, but it’s the actions of her affection, the way she expresses it purely and simply as if it’s a true north cascading through her veins, that has inched its way into his bone marrow, engraved on the latibule he carved inwardly to avoid dry swallowing life’s more bitter medicines.

As she stirs sugar and honey into her own cup, she asks, “Care for a chess rematch?”

He doesn’t even have to think about it; he nods his assent. It’s time to test something.

They arrange the board together at her table. The first round, Sasuke cautiously plans every move, surveying alternating squares and attempting to predict what strategy Sakura will employ. In some instances, he mirrors her, moving a rook a turn after she does, shifting a pawn out of imminent danger, and so on. It’s a very involved way to play, requiring attentive calculation of each move.

It’s a prolonged match that he eventually loses with a final sweeping motion of her remaining bishop, but it’s fairly close.

“...Again?”

She grins and wordlessly starts setting up the pieces she has captured, so he begins to set up hers. It’s an interesting task, a message of opposites, her setting up his dark figures and him setting up her light ones.

The second round, he simply follows his instincts, negating planning ahead farther than a couple of turns. If he gets an impulse to shift a pawn one way, he does. If his gut tells him to move the knight into her territory or to retreat a rook, he goes with it.

It drags on for the better part of an hour, and ends in a stalemate.

The smile she gives him is breathtaking, a broad and warmhearted validation.

“You’re good,” she comments, jade eyes dancing with joy. He gets the impression that it is not often she gets forced into a draw. He wonders who else she plays with. It can't be Naruto, but maybe Sai or Ino also play.

“...So are you.” He is somewhat reassured now. His impulses used to be ruinous, stemming from anger and anxiety and loss, but perhaps his journey helped in that regard. He just needs to make sure they're rooted in the right things, whether it be logic or affection, and then the major task becomes to feel rather than to overthink.

When he kisses her good night in her entryway, another movie watched and plans for tomorrow later, he doesn’t reach for the freckle the first time, though his hand twitches with the longing to. It’s treasured, this tender pressing of lips that feels like dipping a toe into still water. It is imbued with both of her hands resting on his shoulders again, ten fingertips that have him in her grip more than she could possibly fathom.

He studies her eyes when he pulls away, staring down into soft depths of viridescence. He will drown in them someday, he thinks, slowly but surely working up the courage to wade into the deep end.

The second time he kisses her, he lets himself graze her cheek to truly appreciate the difference, allowing acknowledgment of the impulse, compelled forward rather than backward as if bound by some metaphorical form of northern star situated on the rise of her cheekbone.

Sakura leans into his touch once more as she did yesterday, but this time, she brings up her own hand and delicately lets her fingertips rest atop the outside of his, as if she encourages the caress, thumb brushing against his knuckle as his lips gently brush hers. Her other hand stays resting on his clavicle, a tender embrace, osculant in a way he has hoped for countless times, inclusive of this morning.

It is exactly what he needed, a catalyst of encouragement comprised of a heat that is gentle, coaxing, but still brands him all the same.

Maybe it's okay to want to skim her freckles and more, to allow the affinities he has to breathe. They’re together now; it stands to reason they'll one day venture into territory more uncharted, if he can concede to that kind of vulnerability. Not that he’s anywhere near ready for that - he’s not - but his instincts don’t appear to be all disastrously calamitous. Touching her cheek is something she clearly welcomes.

Sasuke gave in to darker tendencies once. Perhaps it's okay to give in to lighter ones; nothing grows in the absence of light, after all. He brushes a thumb across the high point of her cheekbone once more with her hand encompassing his before they part, embracing a new habit prior to whispering good night.

The way she smiles up at him, skin aflush and glimmering eyes, is everything.

XXX

He inspects the stone and the soil surrounding it for a long while, heavy-heartedly trying to ignore the encyclopedia of names in favor of envisioning what it would look like with lilies surrounding it. Less lugubrious, probably. The trajectory of the tree’s shadow would touch the stone in the evening, he sees, now that he’s here in person. He only ever haunts this place after nightfall when there's less chance of someone happening upon him. He wishes it was more secluded for that reason; maybe healing happens in the sunshine, and that’s why he still struggles with coming here after so many years, creature of the night that he is.

Evenings with Sakura feel like healing, though, and they linger after hours consistently. Maybe next time he’ll visit his dead kin at twilight, a brittle sort of compromise.

He'll see if the impulse still grips him tomorrow, and then decide. He knows his mother would like them. Itachi would, too, although it never feels like he's here, not the same way that it feels like the rest of them are, the air weighted with an accursed brand of perfume pouring outward in all directions.

White lilies may be able to touch the light in his stead for the time being. Even if they don’t grow, he at least will know he tried, and there is always next year. By then, he may have the capability of asking Sakura if she would help him; she’s clearly a capable gardener, and there should be less sediment, if he puts in the work.

By the time he leaves for his apartment, a thin layer has loosened.

[crybabykiko]

I just came across you nsfw with Osamu and I really enjoyed it I was wondering if You could do one for Kita?

Hi love! This is for u 💕 and all the kita fuckers worldwide- myself included bc I’m in love with him now 🥺

NSFW Alphabet - Kita Shinsuke

Nsfw below da cut g

gn!reader focus in this hoe

A/n: ty @honey-makki for being my partner in degeneracy and my wife ilysm bc she can read when I can’t

𝕬 - 𝕬𝖋𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖈𝖆𝖗𝖊

Will feed you a full meal. His way of making sure you’re cared for is keeping you well fed. He will cuddle you and spoon feed you himself if he has to, as long as you eat every single bite. He has a routine for everything, aftercare is no exception. He runs you a bath, then, while you soak, he cooks. Will make sure to throw a hoodie in the dryer before heading to the kitchen so it'll be warm for you post shower. Then he feeds you and holds you, playing with your hair or your hands until you fall asleep.

𝕭 - 𝕭𝖔𝖉𝖞 𝕻𝖆𝖗𝖙

You already know what the fuck is going onnnn! Kita is honestly so well sculpted that it really doesn’t matter but let’s talk about his back/shoulders. He’s so mf broad and it's very sexc of him. He’s also very fond of when you cling onto and scratch it up…. delicious

He loves your hands. He loves to hold them, especially when he’s looking straight into your eyes as he drills the hell out of you- he’ll lift one up and kiss it bc ✨romance✨

𝕮 - 𝕮𝖚𝖒

Oh he’s going to fill you so full of cum that it pours out of your ears. He has a big breeding kink, and huge loads to match. But he’s also very healthy and takes good care of himself so his cum isn’t bad on your tongue on the off chance he hasn’t already cum inside you 600 times prior to finally doing so in your mouth. And he’s going to kiss you after- very sexc of him.

𝕯 - 𝕯𝖎𝖗𝖙𝖞 𝕾𝖊𝖈𝖗𝖊𝖙

Lost his virginity in a barn. Got a tick on his ass of all places. The barn isn’t the secret tho... the tick is.

𝕰 - 𝕰𝖝𝖕𝖊𝖗𝖎𝖊𝖓𝖈𝖊

When you got together- he was definitely a virgin. Had only gone as far as MAYBE second base. But you used that to your advantage, because you’ve essentially built him up and trained him to be PERFECT for you. You also helped him find out what he likes and what makes him feel good too. Sure there was a lil’ corruption involved, but in the end you’re both very happy with your sex life.

𝕱 - 𝕱𝖆𝖛𝖔𝖗𝖎𝖙𝖊 𝕻𝖔𝖘𝖎𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓

Full on mf wrestling mating press. He’s going to have his cock so deep inside of you that if he even pushed a bit more his body is gonna go in too. Then he’ll just live there. He’s fine with that.

𝕲 - 𝕲𝖔𝖔𝖋𝖞

Unintentionally so. Every once in a while, you’ll both giggle or laugh because you have to reposition when you start to cramp up or you accidentally hit him in the face when tying to pull him closer or something. But he’s a firm believer in the whole “if you can’t laugh with the person you’re having sex with you shouldn’t have sex with them” addage, so he’s very grateful for those light moments.

𝕳 - 𝕳𝖆𝖎𝖗

It could definitely be neater. He isn’t abysmal, but he is hairy and could stand to trim a tiiiny bit more often. He’s just very low maintenance down there. As long as it’s clean he's good, which is both true and a decent place to start but pls tell him to get a little off the top of you know what I mean.

𝕴 - 𝕴𝖓𝖙𝖎𝖒𝖆𝖈y

He’s! So! Loving! He’s always going to go the extra mile to make you feel special. He likes to keep things on the softer side I’d say 8/10 times. He prefers to make love instead of just fucking it out- but if you get into an argument or he’s frustrated, he will happily go hard… but still with candles and a massage. Also I said it already but he’s gonna hold your hands while he demolishes you- interlaced fingers and all that cute shit even tho you’re getting railed.

𝕵 - 𝕵𝖆𝖈𝖐 𝕺𝖋𝖋

His grandma is one of those old ladies that’s like “don’t do that you’ll go blind,” so poor baby was a lil pent up before he got older. Now, he still doesn't do it often, but he does it once a month or so as part of his routine. He uses coconut oil because he likes the smell and that it melts easily.

𝕶 - 𝕶𝖎𝖓𝖐

Breeding, listen it’s just embedded in country boys to fuck and fill. He is no exception.

Spanking, moreso as a way to direct you. Moving too much? slap to stay still. Changing positions? Slap to get you moving. Just wants to see you jiggle? Yeah that too. Motivational slaps also come into play when he wants you to know you’re doing a good job.

Auralism, He LOVES to hear you. The sound of your breath, your moans, the way you chant his name when you’re close… he eats that shit up. It feeds his ego and boosts his pride. He also makes a lot of noise himself, mostly really deep moans but there’s a sprinkling of praise throughout too.

𝕷 - 𝕷𝖔𝖈𝖆𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓

He needs privacy. So he’s definitely one to want to keep it at home or at least somewhere secluded and away, where he knows only you and him are there and will know about it.

𝕸 - 𝕸𝖔𝖙𝖎𝖛𝖆𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓

He doesn’t care how he does it, but his number one priority, is making sure that you cum. Kita is a giver. And he will make sure to give you whatever you want from him.

𝕹 - 𝕹𝖔!

He’s not into SUPER rough stuff. He’s not vanilla, but he is the kind of guy that sees sex as “lovemaking” so he’s not gonna punch you in the face or throw you around like a ragdoll. It’s just not his style. Of course if it's what you want, he will… but never expect him to ever bring it up or do so on his own.

𝕺 - 𝕺𝖗𝖆𝖑

Ok so- he's… teachable. I’m not gonna lie, he would start off as absolute trash. But the good thing about him is how adaptable he is, and how willing he is to learn. You’d have to have him work at it a lot but once he gets good he’s great. He’ll love the feeling of accomplishment he gets from you getting off with only his mouth- it does wonders for his pride.

𝕻 - 𝕻𝖆𝖈𝖊

It’s very even- until he starts to get close. When he’s close he’s going to speed up so much that you have to brace yourself against anything that’ll hold you. He is definitely a headboard grabber too.

𝕼 - 𝕼𝖚𝖎𝖈𝖐𝖎𝖊

He likes to take his time with you. For that reason, he isn’t a huge fan. You would really have to convince him that it's worth it. He doesn’t see the point in instant gratification, and thinks you should be patient. Good things come to those who wait and all that Kita stop being so stoic and rail me at the farmers market challenge

𝕽 - 𝕽𝖎𝖘𝖐

Lmfao you think this mans is really gonna go for a public or semi-public scene? Think again. Now, he’s into sex outdoors sure, but only in your fenced in, enclosed backyard. He’s not letting anyone see you point blank periodt, you’re for his eyes only.

𝕾 - 𝕾𝖙𝖆𝖒𝖎𝖓𝖆

Excellent self control. He can hold off on cumming for as long as you need him to. Usually he’ll tap out himself after you’ve gotten through at least 3 of your own highs- but his record is 6. Has a super long refractory period tho- so he does things this way to make sure you get everything you need in one go.

𝕿 - 𝕿𝖔𝖞

He actually likes using toys on you. He has a bunch of different plugs and vibes that he uses to suit the situation. He prefers to use a hitachi wand on you while he’s fucking you, but all the others he uses for foreplay- or after to keep you full to the brim of his cum.

𝖀 - 𝖀𝖓𝖋𝖆𝖎𝖗

You both tease each other absentmindedly. He doesn’t know why he gets so turned on by you scrubbing the floor on all fours (that’s why), but he does. He also doesn’t understand why you think its hot when he cuts firewood in winter or wipes his forehead with his shirt during the summer. He thinks he’s gross and sweaty- but you can only think of a million other ways to make him sweatier.

𝖁 - 𝖁𝖔𝖑𝖚𝖒𝖊

Listen we stan. He’s not quiet in bed by any means, but he’s not overly loud either. He’s the type who takes deep breaths and then on the exhale let’s out a moan from deep in his chest- you know the one. And he does that shit on purpose. Not really, but he does think of it as his way of letting you know that he feels as good as you feel. Will also 100% hit you with the “is that it baby? Is that the spot?” While you’re practically turning into jello underneath him bc he absolutely knows that’s the spot he just likes to make you say it.

𝖂 - 𝖂𝖎𝖑𝖉𝖈𝖆𝖗𝖉

Wants to recreate the sex scene from tthe notebook with you. He can’t explain why, he just has an unexplainable urge to suck your face off in the rain and then proceed to raw you after peeling all the damp clothes from your body. Please oblige him.

𝖃 - 𝖃-𝕽𝖆𝖞

He’s got the thickness. Not coke Can thickness but like… you remember the Alaskan bull worm from ep of SpongeBob? Well he’s the whole worm, not just the tongue. I’m going to hell for that reference but ya he has a nice dick. The perfect thickness and and I’ll say a pretty good 5.5-6 inches worth. It’s also very veiny on the underside which- yes I love that.

𝖄 - 𝖄𝖊𝖆𝖗𝖓𝖎𝖓𝖌

Normal sex drive, since you tend to do it at least 2 times a week. He only seems to get a little needier when you CAN’T have sex regularly- ie, one of you is sick or you’re away from each other. When that happens, he’s a little edgier than usual, can snap sometimes but not often.

𝖅 - 𝖅𝖟𝖟

He’s the type to get a second wind after. He’ll only go to sleep after he makes sure all your aftercare needs are met, and even then, he’s only going to power-nap it for maybe 10mins. He’ll stay still and cuddle you while you sleep, but he’ll most likely watch tv or scroll through his phone while you enjoy his warmth. Every once in awhile he’ll give you a kiss while you stir.

Taglist Starseeds (check ur privacy settings if your url is in bold): @honey-makki @crushzone @yumekosgamblingroom @boujiesav @onesingleravioli @ushijimasfarmhat @trouvelle @nekoma-hoe @right-shoe-jpg @atsumusc0ck @nivky0-0 @animoozies @charmarsmith @tsumue @disasteren @hoe4abbacchio @sillykittt @ukaisbaby