#or express that how he saved him was 'beautiful'
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sugarandspite05 · 2 days ago
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i just need to express my love for this scene.
they literally coalesced in the most beautiful way imaginable. and i've been seeing a lot of people upset with the lack of a kiss. but, this scene should make very clear the love they hold for one another, and i actually enjoy it more without a kiss. touching forheads like this is actually a form of affection seen in the undercity, too. (cry) but what im trying to say is that their destinies are literally intertwined now forever, in every single timeline they will find each other. they were doomed to their own fates to save eachother. and jayce CHOSE to die with viktor, viktor pushed him away. he knew that this was his own end. jayce would rather die than live WITHOUT viktor. I MEAN, COME ONNNN. SOBBINGGGG. all viktor wanted was acceptance. in season 1 jayce would refer to viktors illness as a burden, and viktor in his machine form was his way of ridding himself of all his imperfections, as well as for everyone else. he wanted peace by eliminating human suffering.
but jayce realized viktors beauty in his imperfections. he loves him with them, and showed viktor he was never broken.
and that my friends is HOW DOOMED GAY YAOI SAVED ALL OF HUMANITYYY (and ekko ml) RAHHHH
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chaoticblogofmuses · 2 days ago
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Kagura: "Uh-huh. Now we gotta babysit him. How pathetic." She was mocking the guy.
Wadanohara: "I'm sure she will be more than happy to join."
Shinpachi looked nervous before he soon left.
Wadanohara: "There he goes! Let's go!"
They cut to a place that has pcs, Shinpachi posted something on the serious Samurai discussion board with the name Train Samurai.
Train Samurai: "I saved a girl from a molester on the train and she told me she would like to see me again to thank me. Is this a date? And what is a date like?"
Fruit Punch Samurai: "Train Samurai, this isn't a girly board for talking about love. This is a place where samurai declare their beliefs. You're posting in the wrong thread. Leave immediately."
Train Samurai: "I'm sorry Fruit Punch Samurai. I'm not really good at this. But i really have a problem. Could you please help me, Fruit Punch Samurai?"
Fruit Punch Samurai: "It's not 'Fruit Punch Samurai' , It's Katsura." Of course it was him. "Please go commit Seppuku." He repeated that text over and over again.
Completely Fallen Angel Samurai: "Cut it out! This is a free message board where you can talk about anything as long as you are a samurai! By the way, I'm Swordplay Komachi, a beautiful and slutty swordswoman."
Sea Samurai: "Yeah! This is a free expression board."
Sakata Gintoki has been working under the Yorozuya alone for a good few weeks now ever since he threw his old partners into the river for ‘reasons’. Life was going good for me and then one day he hears rumors of a girl alone with corpses in a place called the sea kingdom who is nicknamed ‘The Witch Demon with Corpses’ interested in this he takes a boat to the sea kingdom to find this girl. (Let the Wadanohara Survive AU fun begin!)
The lone Witch was in the middle of a bunch of corpses and some that used to be her friends, she was just sitting there, not moving from the spot, the girl couldn't find any motivation to leave the place, she didn't know of the samurai that was on the way yet to change her life hopefully for the better.
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destielnoirbang · 3 days ago
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Who Framed Sam Winchester?
By queerwerewolf | @queerwolf79 Art by anyrei | @anyreiart
Coming to Ao3 on 12/27/2024
Rated Explicit | 29,180 words | No Archive Warnings Apply
Down-on-his-luck private eye Cas Novak gets hired by Angelic Studios president, Nick Vaught, to investigate a scandal involving an infamous literary character (Lit), Dean Winchester, and Vaught’s primary nemesis, Fergus Crowley. A devilish producer and prop designer who has his hands in every movie studio in Los Angeles. Crowley’s prop factory shares a wall with Lit Town, and worse yet, he owns the contract for every Lit. Every contract, that is, except for brothers Sam and Dean Winchester from the Supernatural book series. When Crowley is found murdered, Sam Winchester becomes the primary suspect and goes on the run. The villainous Judge Edlund vows to catch and destroy Sam, having discovered a means of killing Lits with a substance known only as “Pulp”. Desperate to prove his brother’s innocence, Dean demands Cas help him find his brother before the Judge does. Despite vowing to never work with another Lit after his twin brother's murder, Cas agrees. With a contentious start to their working relationship, Dean Winchester and Cas Novak begin to uncover an ever growing nefarious plot. Can Cas and Dean put a stop to this evil ploy? And more importantly, will their attraction to each other get in the way of saving the day?
[Keep reading for a sneak preview!]
“Cigars? Cigarettes?”
When I turned, it was to come face to face with Dorian Gray. Unsurprisingly, he hadn’t aged a day in about a decade or so. Now whether that was because he was a Lit, or that damned portrait… His cobalt blue eyes rivaled my own, although, if I’m honest, his were always prettier. His curly blonde hair was coifed in a pompadour and his scarlet lips were curled in a hungry smile. He was dressed in a form-fitting pair of charcoal pants and an even tighter black t-shirt that left little to the queer imagination, carrying a tray of different smokes.
“Dorian, what are you doing here?”
With a wistful, overly dramatic sigh, Dorian pouted his plush lips and said, “Work’s been slow for those of us with a little more… culture.” Which meant with how many contemporary novels were capturing the attention of audiences, any Lits from the 19th century or earlier had to get creative to make a living. This suited Dorian, considering his nature. “But I’m still exquisitely tragic.”
With a soft laugh, I nodded, reveling in his beauty for a moment, although I was far too old for him now. “Yeah, you are.”
The lights started to dim and a spotlight shined on the closed curtains. I caught Crowley in my peripheral vision, straightening his tie and sitting upright. He even pulled out a small bottle of cologne, spraying it against his neck. It reeked of licorice and cloves, the breath of a child that got into his father’s cigarette case.
I turned to Dorian with a bemused expression. “What’s with him?”
Dorian smoothed out a nonexistent wrinkle on his pants with a shrug. “Oh, Mr. Crowley never misses a night when Dean performs.”
“Got a thing for Lits, huh?”
At that, Dorian gave me a pointed look. “If I recall, you did as well at one point.”
I cleared my throat and grabbed my drink, gulping down half of it at the implication, feeling a warmth at the memories that comment conjured. The crowd grew silent and the band could be heard from the pit, warming up their instruments. Then a familiar intro began, an infamously upbeat Cole Porter song that had been slowed down from a jazzy little jaunt to something sedated, steady, and sentimental. Just as a soft beat began, the curtains jostled and a leg popped out, bent at the knee in skin tight purple pants.
“We’re all alone… No chaperone… Can get our number… the world’s in slumber… ” A sultry, deep voice sang in a pleasant register, masterfully turning jazz to a ballad. The curtains parted and revealed one of the most breathtaking creatures I had ever seen in my life.
“Let’s misbehave…”
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adonneniel · 2 days ago
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Ok, nevermind, I am going to try and put my complicated thoughts on paper.
So, about Dragon Age elves being intentionally inspired by Jews.
Like, on one hand they’ll always hold a special place in my heart because when do Jews *ever* get to be portrayed as elegant and mystical and beautiful? Even if modern DA elves are a fallen, oppressed people, those vibes are still present. And even if it’s not always handled well, the struggle between the more assimilated city elves and the more traditionally minded Dalish is very real. The longing for a lost homeland. The ache and resentment and fear that nothing is stable & people could turn on a dime. The isolationist tendencies that arise as a consequence of that. Perhaps prickly and defensive to outsiders, but loving and community-centered to their own.
In short, it resonates, and I always felt like I had room to roleplay and embrace these concepts, particularly in the older games.
Tbh even the Dalish clans always on the verge of dying felt real. Perhaps too real. And I think the main problem (for me), was that it was never treated with the gravity and respect it should’ve been. The characters shrug and move on.
Even Davrin’s distaste for his people’s focus on the past doesn’t bother me. Because not only do people like that exist, they still made him unapologetically Dalish (he even named his gryphon Assan! An elvish word!) It’s obvious he still cares deeply about elves, and he was the only one who consistently expressed concern for modern elves when the topic came up. If they’d handled the rest of the elves in the game better (which I’ll expand on in a second), I think he’d actually serve as a great constrast to Bellara.
But then we get to the Evanuris, constant victim blaming, and the inexplicable white-guilt projecting the writers added in Veilguard. (And that last one stings because minorities are never treated as individuals—a bad apple is always turned into a representive of the collective.)
Choosing to make the Evanuris the root of Thedas’ woes might be a neat twist in isolation, but it’s *not* in isolation. Not when Jews are at the center of every conspiracy theory and often painted as this nebulous, shadowy cabal controlling society for their own nefarious means. And to then have the gall to paint *all* modern elves with this brush? As if they’re responsible for a few shitheads that existed thousands of years in the past (that also happened to enslave them). As if they’re somehow complicit when past games have made it abundantly clear that elves are treated like trash with ZERO institutional power? (And Veilguard conveniently brushes this under the rug).
It’d be one thing to make Bellara apologize—because it’s kinda in character—but there’s no meaningful pushback. And elf!Rook has at least three opportunities to spout those same bullshit white-guilt apologies. Tbh, it soured me to Harding’s entire questline.
And the distressing reality that the Evanuris might make people even more distrustful and violent towards elves? It’s practically framed as a *new* fear. Which is utterly ridiculous when even an elven Inquisitor can state that people will always find a way to blame elves (with an appropriately resigned anger)
And going back to Bellara, I hate hate hate that her questline almost encourages us to throw away the Archive, as if this monumental resource is selfish to want to preserve? And why do we get to make this choice? Rook might not even be a elf! It’s similar to the framing of Merrill’s quest to restore the eluvian, but at least Merrill fights tooth and nail for it. Why is the desire to reclaim and discover lost knowledge always presented as stupid and dangerous?
One last thing: Epler said they were trying to give the Dalish a win in Veilguard, and I assume baking in a “save the Dalish!” quest was an attempt to make up for the potiential massacres in past games, but, uh…it failed imo. How is it a “win” to make them nothing more than poor little props for the Big Hero to swoop in and save? They have no agency. They’re shown no respect. We don’t even get to talk to them!
Anyway, I’ve seen some excellent takes on the anti-indigenous racism baked into the elves, but not one from a Jewish perspective. So here’s me, a Jew, venting about a series that’s somehow still near and dear to my heart, and probably always will be, despite the racism and antisemitism. (Though whether I’ll replay datv or buy any future games is up in the air. Right now veilguard feels like the last straw—the mediocre writing failed to make up for the highly questionable & infurating choices made).
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completeoveranalysis · 2 days ago
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[5]
OH THIS ONE GETS TO ME
THE EXPRESSION ON LAVA LAMP’S FACE IN THAT BOTTOM PANEL
HE HAS NEVER LOOKED SO SCARED BEFORE
Also GOSH what this moment must be like to him. After all he’s been through and all he’s suffered, finally pulling his Sakura out of her Time Freeze only for the universe to shatter AND THEN his PARENTS jumping in out of nowhere to fix it. And it’s been HOW LONG since he’s seen them? He was a child, so young when he realised he would never see them again, and then taking on all the burdens of reality onto himself - AND THEN HERE THEY ARE AGAIN ALL THESE YEARS LATER AND HIS DAD IS HUGGING HIM FROM BEHIND AS HE TRIES TO SAVE EVERYONE AT ONCE. 
WHAT A MOMENT. 
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Daddyaoran is talking about that one moment from Lava Lamp’s flashback in… uh let's see... Chapitre 192. It's the last time they saw each other, when Lava Lamp is being told about going to the Clow Kingdom for the first time.
There’s also a fun echo of that moment earlier, in Chapitre 189, when Lava Lamp first meets Yuuko. And in that scene when Lava Lamp says this exact phrase again Yuuko mentions that it reminds her of Daddyaoran - which is nice and cute and touching and ALSO comes around full circle HERE, when Daddyaoran is right here repeating Lava Lamp's own words to him after all this time. It's honestly beautiful.
I'm very intrigued by the look Sakura Sakura Sakura Sakura shoots him afterwards though.
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AHHHHHHH This page confused me greatly until I realised that top panel IS TWO PANELS SQUISHED TOGETHER.
IT IS NOT A PICTURE OF LAVA LAMP HOLDING SAKURA - and therefore NOT a flashback like the previous page. IT IS LAVA LAMP ON THE RIGHT, AND SUPER SAKURA ON THE LEFT BEING HELD BY SAKURA SAKURA SAKURA SAKURA. RIGHT NOW, IN THE PRESENT.
LAVA LAMP IS REPLYING TO DADDYAORAN BY SAYING THAT HE WILL NOT LET SAKURA DIE, NO MATTER WHAT.
NEEDLESSLY VISUALLY CONFUSING FOR ME AND ME ONLY OH MY GOODNESS.
But all that aside let’s add in some similar moments that I went digging through the manga looking for to try figure this all out
Lava Lamp saying he won’t let Sakura die when he’s first making a wish with Yuuko
Lava Lamp saying he won’t let Sakura die when talking with Nadeshiko
Lava Lamp thinking about how he wasn’t going to let Sakura die when telling his backstory to Fai and Kurogane
Or, my big favourite, Our original clone Syaoran saying he won’t let Sakura die at the beginning of the manga. Which I can't link directly so I'm just going to add here:
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YOU CAN SEE THE POTENTIAL FOR CONFUSION IF YOU WERE MISLEAD INTO THIS MIGHT BE A FLASHBACK RIGHT?
But throwing aside, if a certain crack theory ends up being right, it's that last example that ends up being the best. Because that would mean that Daddyaoran is quoting Lava Lamp to Lava Lamp, and then Lava Lamp quotes Daddyaoran to Daddyaoran.
But that's just a crack theory for now so let's move on and say nothing at all about that.
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wardenparker · 1 day ago
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In the Still of the Night, ch 3
Zach Wellison x female reader Co-written with @absurdthirst
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Grown up and looking to the future, Zach Wellison and bunkmate Shane Morrissey are working for a new cruise line that offers its guests a vintage Vegas experience on the Mediterranean. The romantic atmosphere is rubbing off on many of the crew members, and Zach finds himself to be no exception when he meets the beautiful lead singer of Shane's band.
But being wrapped in the seductive arms of an atmospheric cruise is a far cry from real life. How will their relationship fare on dry land? They can't know unless they try.
Rating: E for Explicit 18+ Word Count: 8.8k Warnings: *Blanket warnings for this story include: Cursing, alcohol, food, cooking, eating, discussion of clothing/costumes. Mentions of prison time served, mentions of past homelessness.* Flirting, still a little awkwardness, blindfold, sensory deprivation, foreplay, oral sex (female receiving). Summary: Your day out with Zach gets more intense at every turn. Notes: Hopefully you're all enjoying the prolonged date as much as we -- and they -- are! (As always, chapter gifs are for the vibes, not to physically describe the characters.)
Ch 1 ~ Ch 2
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It isn't hard for anyone who sees you during the rest of the day to spot the dreamy couple out on a date. The older woman who shows you to your table at the restaurant Zach picked out for dinner gives you a wink in agreement that he's an absolute cutie pie and comes back a few minutes later with two glasses of wine and a candle for your table despite none of the others having one set out.
He had chosen a restaurant that was more local than tourist and had been thrilled when there was no formal dress code. Eager to sit down with you after so much walking and talk about more of anything and everything that has been the topics of the day. “So how did you start out singing?” He asks curiously.
“My elementary school had a chorus.” It might be the first time in hours you haven’t been holding hands, but you’re still smiling as you sit side by side with your wine watching the sun set. “I stuck with it because I was a kid and it was fun, then the dance lessons got added, and then as I got older I realized that I also liked theater. It became a combination.”
“So you were a theatre kid.” He nods in understanding. He hadn’t been, but he had been friends with some and understood the passion of performing even if he didn’t have it.
“That’s how I ended up in New York.” You tell him, expression twisting into something like regret. “Just another small town kid convinced they could be the next Broadway star. Obviously that didn’t happen.”
“But you tried.” He reminds you, leaning against your shoulder and wishing he could take away the sadness. “Some people never try.”
“I go between thinking that maybe I should have tried harder, and wondering why I ever bothered at all.” With that offer of support there, you lean against his shoulder in turn and shrug gently. “It is what it is, I guess. But…how did you start cooking?”
Zach sighs softly, knowing that it would eventually come up. “Actually, I just started cooking a few years ago.” He admits.
“You did?” That surprises you enough to turn your head and look at him more fully. “So it’s just at natural talent, then?”
“I guess?” He shrugs slightly. “I got a job working in a kitchen. Saved my life.” He tells you. “Threw myself into it and experimented as much as I could and read everything I could get my hands on.”
“So you stumbled into your calling.” There is something else there, something he doesn’t want to tell you, so you don’t push. “That’s wonderful, though. Some people never find what they’re meant to do in their whole lives.”
“It helps with my anxiety.” He admits with a self deprecating grin. “So I decided that it was the best thing for me. One day I’d like to have a restaurant. One that I can plan every detail, down to free meals for the homeless.”
“I love that.” Without hesitation, the idea is not only a kind one but one you can tell means a great deal to him. “Some places have a system where you can pay for meals for others in advance, too. System like that can be used to pay for extra supplies so no one ever has to be turned away.”
“That would be amazing.” He’s had benefited from that kind of system before, but not often. And he knows how uplifting a good, hot meal can be when you are down.
"You can make it happen." Something in your gut tells you that he can and he will, and even though you have no stake in it, you can't help but feel proud of him for that.
“I’m hoping.” He flashes you a grateful grin. Even your confidence in him sounds so sure when he’s always wondered if he can succeed. “The club on the ship has given me so many ideas.”
"I've been eating your ideas," you remind him with a grin. "And they're fantastic. You're really good, Zach. Any place would be lucky to have you and any team would be lucky to have you lead them."
“What about you?” He asks. “This has to be a stepping stone for you. I’ve already heard from the crew that you might have some head hunters after you.” One of the passengers was apparently connected in the music industry and had been in to the club several nights.
"If I do, that's news to me." Whatever murmurings Zach has heard, you haven't. But you would be lying if you claimed not to be curious. "I don't know, honestly. I think I would rather be a headliner in a little club than wave a rose in a Broadway chorus for the rest of my life. But the chances of either are relatively slim." You take a sip of your wine and offer him a smile, shrugging one shoulder. "In my dreams I'm getting top billing in the biggest musicals and you're running the most popular restaurant in the country. Ultimate New York City power couple."
“That sounds amazing.” Zach chuckles. “Actually, running this style club, I think it would work in New York.” He tells you. “A dinner club.”
"I know it's something that you see in retirement communities in Florida, but I have always loved dinner theater." His laugh is sweet and deep and rolls through you like a wave of joy. "This club is such a great gig for people like us."
“Yes it is, but imagine….” He sighs softly. “Creating a headliner show like you would see in Vegas, right in New York and pairing it with a daily changing menu like we do here.”
"New York would love a show like that." It sounds so doable when he says it. Like a dream you could reach for and pluck out of the sky.
“It would be sold out.” He agrees, flashing a hopeful smile. “One day, maybe if I had the right singer to run the show side of things.”
"I guess you're going to have to get to know some singers then, aren't you?" His bright smile is reflected right back at him, teasing as always but it's because part of you can't dare to dream this big for yourself. Only for him.
“I will.” He nods and shrugs. “Maybe hold auditions or something. Singing for your supper?”
"That's what most of us do." You agree, not wanting your smile to flicker at all even if the memories sting. "Sometimes literally."
Zach catches the change, the dimming of the light in your eyes and he knows that he’s touched on a sensitive topic for you. “I get it.” He promises quietly. “I think I gravitated towards cooking because I knew if I was making food for others, I would not have that gnawing ache of hunger ever again.” He licks his lips. “Food insecurity, the therapist called it.”
Your heart sinks, chest tightening, and you nod as you slip your hand back into his. "I wish I was more surprised to find out that more than a few of us have been there. But a job like ours...with guaranteed housing and meals and a way to save money for months at a time? It makes sense that it would attract people who have had it hard."
Of course you would be understanding. His eyes close as he nods, feeling a little choked up by the compassion in your voice and the understanding in your touch. “Absolutely. And I hate that you’ve had a moments bad luck.” He murmurs. “You deserve so much.”
"So do you." You squeeze his hand gently. "Bad luck doesn't make us bad people."
“Not at all.” His hand slips from yours and his arm wraps around your shoulders protectively. “Now - before we start choking up, what do you want to try?” He wants this date to be nothing but a lovely moment for you and he tries to steer the conversation to more positive thoughts.
Without saying another word about it, you turn your head to kiss his cheek and refocus on the menu in his hands. They have enough tourists in town that the menu from this restaurant has one-sentence item descriptions in English that simply tell non-Greek speakers the main ingredients of each dish. A quick glance around you shows you that everything here seems to be served family style, and you settle in Zach's side again happily.
"How does this sound?" You ask, pointing out the special. Gamopilafo. The menu says, with Arnáki Stamnagathi. "Greek risotto with lamb and vegetables?"
“That sounds amazing.” Zach groans happily and nods. “Do you want to get that and something else?” He doesn’t want you to share with him if you are just trying to make the bill cheaper, he can afford paying for dinner.
"It looks like it's family style? Maybe we can get another side dish to go with it so we can try more?" You shrug slightly, knowing that food was just a topic of some stress for both of you. "Sharing sounds nice. But not if you don't want to."
“I’m not opposed to sharing at all.” He promises, leaning in and nudging his nose to yours. “I’ll share anything with you.”
"Promises, promises." It's too tempting to have him close and not indulge in another kiss, but you keep it short and chaste in case Zach isn't too into public displays of affection. The half dozen or so kisses that you have shared today have been relatively private so you want to respect that for him.
Zach smiles, beams really. “What else do you want, baby?” The term of endearment slips out, but he doesn’t try to take it back or apologize. Feeling like it’s just the natural next step of this amazing day.
While the honest answer is him, that isn't what he's asking so you pull yourself out of the dirty thoughts you've been having on and off all damn day and look back down at the menu. In the top section there is something that lists cheese, fruit, bread, and flavored local olive oil, so you point that out. "Cretan charcuterie plate to start?"
“I think that’s a good idea.” Zach agrees and smiles at you. “We can see if we can come up with our own ideas for a board.”
"We'll have enough menu ideas for three new restaurants if we let our imaginations wander." Which is not a bad thing at all, but it does have both of you grinning when the waitress comes over to take your order.
Zach orders for the both of you, checking in with his eyes to make sure that it’s everything you want and hands the menu over with a pleasant smile for the waitress. Enjoying the knowing glances she shoots between the two of you. “I think that she thinks we are newlyweds or something.” He confesses quietly when she walks away. “What do you think?”
“Maybe.” Don’t be so you, you remind yourself for the hundredth time in your head. “I don’t know how many people come around here being cuddly on a fantastic day-long first date.”
“It has been fantastic, hasn’t it?” He muses, reminding himself that neither one of you has walked away or even been upset today. Not really.
“I think so.” There are clearly more things to talk about in your future, but today has left you optimistic that that future could exist. “I’m glad you do, too.”
“So, what’s your favorite type of wine?” He asks. “With charcuterie? Are you a white wine or sangria girl?”
“I’m a whatever wine you serve me kind of girl,” you tell him with an amused laugh. “But I do love sangria. There are very few things that aren’t made better with a glass of sangria or a margarita.”
“A margarita; huh?” He smirks. “Salt on the rim or sugar?”
“Depends on the flavor.” After all, your palate isn’t nonexistent, it’s just uneducated. “But usually salt.”
“A watermelon margarita is my favorite.” He admits. “Salt and sugar on the rim.”
“Salt and sugar?” That has you raising an eyebrow. “Color me intrigued.”
“It’s delicious.” He chuckles. “Goes with a hamburger or ribs. Drinks just like water.”
“That sounds incredible.” It sounds absolutely mouthwatering, actually, and you crack a grin. “Maybe I’m just really hungry.”
“Next crew party why don’t we do sliders and margaritas?” He offers. “I think you’d love it.”
“It sounds amazing.” You can agree to that without hesitation. “But I would also eat an old sneaker if it came out of your kitchen, so just know I’m always here for your food.”
“So boil shoe leather.” He pretends to make a note and laughs when you shove him playfully.
“You boil shoe leather and I’ll sing scales off key. Our worst work night ever.”
Zach throws his head back and laughs. The deep, belly laugh of a man who is completely convinced that it possible could happen and finds it up-roaringly funny. “You’re perfect.”
“You’re perfect.” He doesn’t need to know that a musical lyric sprung to mind instantly. He doesn’t need to know that you’ve been thinking it for an hour or more now. But you do hope he knows that the absolute affection shining in your eyes is honest and real.
He hums, not exactly able to take a compliment as well as he can give one. Instead he clinks his wine glass against yours. “To being perfect together.” He offers with a smile.
Neither of you take compliments well, you note with a smile, but drink deeply from your glass and enjoy a private smile that he unknowingly completed the thought of the song lyric in your head. “I know you’re supposed to wait until the end of the date to say it,” you set down your glass, thank the waitress when she brings over the first course, and restart your thought after a few seconds. “But I really think we should do this again.”
Zach’s heart leaps at your comment, happy that you have said that. “Well, of course we should.” He agrees, winking at you as he starts to dip a crusty piece of bread into the seasoned olive oil. “But I was thinking maybe we spend a little more time together on the ship when we can?”
"We could always skip the crew parties now and then to have time to ourselves." Following suit, you dive into the cheese board along with him. The cured olives and soft cheese are calling your name. "I wouldn't mind that at all."
“I mainly go to the crew parties to see you.” Zach confesses with a shy smile, offering you the dipped bread after he’s spread a bit of goat’s cheese on top of it.
"I–" Your eyes drop, your whole face heats, and you clear your throat before offering him an olive that you have stuffed with a pinch of soft sheep's milk cheese. "I go to the crew parties to see you."
Zach snorts and shakes his head. “We are pathetic.” He teases. “Mooning over each other and not even aware of it until Shane makes you take me a drink.”
"He tried to tell me," you admit after trying the bite that Zach made for you. Like everything else he's ever fed you, it's perfect. "I just...didn't really think I had a shot."
“He would always talk about you.” He huffs. “Making that crush I was suffering under nearly unbearable.” He smirks. “I guess he was hoping to push me into making a move.”
“And when you didn’t, he pushed me instead.” Which is a very Shane thing to do, really. He’s always been a little bit too cocky for his own good. “He’s like my big brother. So it makes perfect sense that he would meddle endlessly.”
“He basically adopted me once we became roommates.” Zach agrees. “He’s a good guy with a surprisingly big heart.”
“It took him a while to get there,” you acknowledge, not quite knowing how much of Shane’s story he had shared with Zach. “But now that he has? He’ll be damned if he doesn’t help everyone that he can.”
“Yeah.” Zach nods. “From what he’s told me, he’s completely different than when he was first sent away.”
“He showed me a picture once. Oh how he dresses and everything back then.” Just keeping the topic about appearance is lighthearted. That way you don’t dip too far into past seriousness. “Even if that was the only thing that changed, he really is a completely different guy now.”
“Jet black hair.” Zach snorts, shaking his head. “Dude has amazing hair now. I’m a little jealous of it.” Shane still has earrings, but he’s no longer sporting the goth edge he had back in his younger years.
“Do you ever think about growing yours out?” Zach still has short-trimmed hair that is probably a cinch to take care of, but he might look great with it longer.
“It’s been a long time since I’ve worn it long.” He admits, rubbing his hand up the back of his head. “Since high school.” He snorts. “But I’ve not given it a lot of thought, honestly. Why? You think it would look good longer?” He asks, curious about your preferences. Everyone has them, it’s like preferring clean shaven over a beard.
“I caught myself wondering once if your hair was curly when it grows out,” you admit, clearing your throat a little from being flustered. Admitting that you’ve wondered and daydreamed about him is a big step to your mind.
“Yeah?” A slow, pleased grin starts to stretch across his face as he turns back towards you again. “Daydreaming about running your fingers through my hair?”
“Maybe.” The huff in your voice is pure embarrassment, though you’re glad that he seems to like the idea rather than being weirded out by it.
“Then I have to confess something…” he drops his voice down to a whisper like it’s a secret. “I really love when the hairdresser runs her fingers through my hair when cutting it.”
It feels like a far more visceral tease than you’ve been giving him, and you can practically feel how soft his shirt hair is when your eyes flick up to it. “Noted,” you manage to huff out a second later, banishing the mental image of Zach beneath you as you card your fingers through growing curls.
He smirks and winks at you when you manage to look at him again, finding it incredibly empowering to know that you are on the same level as he is. Both of you wanting so much, but being too shy to reach for it. Someone will have to make a move, but right now, he’s enjoying the flirting and bantering.
Neither of you seem to care much that it takes longer to make bites out of your appetizer if you hold hands, enjoying the small show of intimacy more than anything else. You're loathe to give up that connection now that you have it.
Zach enjoys sharing with you. Often making bites for you to try, and he smiles every time you groan in pleasure.
“Just because I have no idea how to cook anything doesn’t mean I don’t enjoy it,” you insist, and you’re laughing together when your waitress brings out your shared entree. The large and shallow bowl is obviously meant to be shared but is beautifully arranged — vegetables bringing color with the creamy risotto-like grains and tantalizingly seared and roasted lamb.
“Many blessings.” She is smiling at both of you as she puts the food down between you. “Happy marriage to young love.”
“Thank you.” Zach doesn’t correct her, beaming instead and bringing up your hand and kissing the back of it. If they believe that you are newlyweds, who are you to disclaim it?
Seeing him go with the assumption instead of correcting the woman makes your heart swell. There is something deeply soft and intimate about the gesture and you’re sure you must look so deeply entranced by your date that protesting wouldn’t do any good anyway.
“Soulmates?” The older woman asks, looking at the two of you with the pride of a grandmother.
Zach bites his lip, unsure of how to answer that, so he just wings it. “What do you think?” He asks, reaching out and caressing your cheek. “She’s perfect, isn’t she?”
"Very." The woman agrees, and with another proud smile she clasps both of your shoulders and heads off again to the kitchen with the purpose and speed of someone off to share vital gossip.
Zach smiles at you. “Well, I guess that makes us official.” He hums. “What do you think?” He asks, lifting a brow. “Want to be my girlfriend? Or should we jump straight to soulmate and wife?” He asks. “We’ve already gotten approval here.”
"It might be a little dramatic to show back up to the ship married." And yet you're grinning. You're absolutely beaming at him in a way that can't possibly be contained and for the first time today you don't want it to be. "But I love the sound of girlfriend."
“I’m sure we wouldn’t have been the first couple to have done that.” He doesn’t take offense to you ignoring the remark about soulmates. He’s seen you without sleeves enough to know that you don’t have his tattoo. You can’t be his soulmate, but he is drawn to you like he’s never been to another woman. “But girlfriend sounds perfect to me too.”
"I'm not one of those people that swears soulmates are the only possible relationship," you explain, as the two of you rearrange your little table to share your entree comfortably. The waitress had also brought you fresh drinks so the little table is loaded down with tantalizing options. "My parents aren't soulmates and they've been happily married for almost forty years. It's a great thing, but I always thought choosing your person yourself was more important than anything else."
“Interesting.” Zach is impressed and he nods. “I know that soulmates aren’t everything, but my parents were.” He tells you, smiling a little sadly. “They were probably the best relationship I’ve ever seen.”
"We both had good role models for healthy relationships. That's far more rare than it should be, I think." You note the past tense in his words but don't push, instead watching as he carefully serves the meal onto the two smaller plates you were given.
The lamb smells amazing and Zach is already drooling, imagining what he could make. “Are you ready to give me ideas?” He teases as he looks up from finishing plating.
"Dinner ideas?" You raise an eyebrow at him and pick up your fork, feeling bold with the help of the waitress who broke the ice and managed to make you Zach's girlfriend with a touch of cute teasing. "Or dirty ideas?"
“I accept all ideas.” Zach promises, his voice dipping down slightly, turning sensual.
"Fuck." Even just a quiet groan of frustration from you is enough to let him know exactly where you're at. Every single time he kisses you, you're convinced that you're going to soak through your shorts, and you no longer care if he knows it or not.
“I’ve been thinking about something.” Zach starts, forking up a bite of the risotto and trying it with a groan of approval.
"Tell me." There have been a few more serious topics touched on today without delving too deep, but you have faith that whatever it is that's on his mind won't be bad.
“We don’t have to be back on the ship until tomorrow morning.” The club is closed for the night while in port since the majority of the passengers are on shore. “What do you think about not going back tonight?”
"Like...find a little hotel?" Your fork is halfway to your mouth when you meet his eyes, seeing that there is the same spark of desire there as in your own. "That would certainly be more comfortable than using one of our bunks after we kick our roommate out," you agree, letting a grin crawl across your face.
“We don’t have to.” He stresses, not wanting you to feel like he expects to spend the night with you.
"I know." But you shrug with just a touch of guilt. "And if you want to wait that's totally fine. But...I definitely want to."
“I want to.” He is quick to reassure you of that. “I really want to. I just—” he bandied about for the right words. “Didn’t want to come off as pushy.”
"Pushy is normally my problem." you promise him. "The other part of Shane's whole 'be less you' advice was not rolling up to our first date and telling you we would make beautiful children." It's still of a hell of a way to come on strong so you laugh it off, but it's true all the same. "You've been anything but pushy, baby."
“You would have beautiful babies with Shrek.” He snorts, shaking his head. “My genes would have nothing to do with it.”
"Don't count yourself out." The grin on your face slides sideways and the two of you dig into your dinner in earnest. "Those curls of yours on a little baby? Cuties."
He blushes slightly, imagining how a baby with you would look. It’s a fantasy that he never even imagined being able to consider just a few years ago. “Only because of you. And most babies are cuties anyway.”
“They are.” That’s just a fact as far as you’re concerned. The two of you continue to eat for another minute or so before your mind catches up with all the possible consequences of that topic coming up and you almost stutter as you reach for your wine glass. “I’m—I’m on birth control, though,” you point out. Like he might think you’re trying to baby trap him on the first date just because you think babies are cute. “That’s…like I want kids eventually but I’m not crazy about it.”
This is happening. Zach swallows a bite of the deliciously fragrant and juicy lamb so he doesn’t choke. “Good. I mean, I would still want to wear a- birth control shouldn’t just be on you.” He tells you. “I’m clean, but I- it’s always good to- you know, uh, be safe.”
“I’m clean too, and if you feel more comfortable with a condom that’s totally fine, I just—” Who knows if more wine is actually a good idea at this point but you take about gulp out of nerves. “I didn’t want you to think I had any motivation for…you know…tonight, other than really liking you.”
He has to laugh at that, reaching for your hand and winking at you. “You’re focusing on your career. I don’t think that your grand plan is to be knocked up by the chef of the club you headline your first contract out.” He promises.
“Well when you say it like that it sounds silly.” And yet? A part of you is certain, beyond any doubt whatsoever, that if it happened you could be such a happy little family.
He smirks slightly and reaches over to brush off a tiny bit of sauce on the edge of your mouth. “So we both know where we stand.” He hums. “Let’s just relax and enjoy where our night takes us.”
******
With the sun set and your meal finished, an intimacy has settled over you and Zach as you sip your coffee together and listen to the busy streets of Knossos bustle with tourists and nightlife. Normally you would be part of that. You would be out with friends or searching out a feeling to get lost in — but today has been so thorough in proving that you can simply get lost in Zach that you don’t want to stray. Everything you could possibly want for your night is right here next to you. And it’s a type of calming feeling that you don’t know you’ve ever felt with another person before.
“That was probably the best meal I’ve ever eaten.” Zach rubs his stomach appreciatively and looks over at you. “Lamb on the menu for the club?”
“Abso-fucking-lutely.” You’ll eat anything he cooks anyway. But having it be a special memory between the two of you? That’s worth bragging about. “With those whipped carrots you made yesterday? Oh my god.”
“You liked those?” He grins, loving feedback as much as the next person and if it comes from you it makes it even sweeter. “I’ve been thinking about making it a soufflé and putting a topping on it. Similar to a sweet potato soufflé? What do you think? Too much?”
“I don’t know,” you admit with a grin spreading across your face. “I’ve never had a soufflé before.”
“You’ve never had a sweet potato casserole?” His eyes widen. “You’re shitting me?”
You shrug weakly, yet can’t help but laugh at how strong his reaction is. “My dad hates sweet potatoes,” you explain between giggles. “We basically ate like toddlers in my house forever, because he only liked four or five foods.”
“Wow.” He chuckles. “So I know what I’m making you tomorrow.” He grins. “Roasted chicken with sweet potato soufflé, creamed spinach and a fresh cranberry compote.”
“We just ate.” Sure, your tone is complaining, but the teasing is clear and sparkling in your eyes. “Why do you have to make me hungry all over again?”
Laughing, he leans over slightly to pull his wallet out to pay. Having cash is something of a safety net to him, although he’s proud of the shiny credit card with a low limit as he builds his credit back up. Offers have started coming for pre-approval of credit limits, but he’s resisted getting one so far. He pays this card off every month like clockwork. “I’ll let you sleep it off first.” He promises.
A different woman comes out with your check and a small folded bag. She smiles when she sees Zach ready to pay, and hands you the bag. “Congratulations,” she explains in a thick but clear accent. “From my grandparents. They’re very flattered you chose their restaurant for your honeymoon.”
Zach immediately feels guilty. “No— nothing is necessary.” He promises, shaking his head. “We are happy to be here. The food was amazing.”
"It's just a few cookies," she promises, apparently charmed by the display of manners. "And we're always glad to have kind guests."
“Everyone here has been wonderful.” Zach smiles as he hands over his card. “Now we just need to find a hotel with people as wonderful.”
"You don't have a place to stay already?" The bill is easily and silently settled with the exchange of a few bills between them and the woman points down the beach to a three-story white building on the edge of the beach. "Dite is a beautiful hotel. Small. But very nice. And you will see the perfect sunrise in your room."
“What do you think, sweetheart?” He asks, turning towards you. “I think it sounds just about perfect, if they have a room available.”
“Small sounds perfect.” In fact, after the bustle of the ship, it sounds like a small relief. “Thank you for the suggestion.”
“I will call for you.” She offers. “Family.”
“That would be wonderful.” You look to Zach for confirmation. “The hotel is my treat. I promise.”
He huffs, frowning slightly at the notion of you paying and there is a grin on the woman’s face as she nods in approval. “I will go call right now and let them know you are coming.” She beams before scampering off.
“It’s okay.” Sensing a bit of hurt pride that you dismiss as typically male, you lean over and kiss Zach’s cheek. “You can buy our breakfast.”
He can’t tell you that it’s because he somehow still looks at someone paying for something – even if it benefits them – as a handout. That is way too deep for this date and probably means he needs to schedule a visit with the VA therapist next time he’s in New York. “Sounds good, sweetheart.” He hums.
It only takes a few minutes for the younger waitress to return, and when she does she is smiling broadly. To Zach she hands a slip with the name and address of the hotel. “They’re getting your room ready now,” she tells you both gladly.
“Thank you.” He smiles. “For everything.”
“Our pleasure.” She assures him, and trots off again after saying good night.
He turns towards you and gives you a searching look. “Are you ready?”
"Absolutely." Considering you can see the hotel from here, you don't mind walking. A stroll through the streets of the ancient city, hand in hand with your newly minted boyfriend? It sounds perfect to you.
Zach scoots out of the seat and holds out his hand to you. “Then let’s walk off this amazing dinner.”
The roads and the beach stretch on longer than you anticipate but the walk is welcome. You're most quiet, enjoying each other's company without the need to fill the air with idle conversation. You take in the city around you and the overwhelming number of tourists. The hustle and the bustle is beautiful, but something about the fact that you can be comfortable in the quiet with Zach brings and unexpected extra layer of intimacy to the night.
Walking hand in hand is intimate, serene. He doesn’t feel the need to make excuses or fill the silence, he just enjoys the way the smiles seem to be just for you as a couple, coming from others who pass you on the streets.
The hotel is clean and bright, and the extended family of the folks who owned the restaurant are as sweet as can be when you check in. They’ve put you in a top floor room facing the ocean and promise you it’s their best, and you and Zach take the stairs up after thanking them once more.
“I feel bad.” Zach muses. “They think we are on our honeymoon.”
“First dates can be just as special as honeymoons, right?” You offer as you make your way down the hall to your room. “I checked their rates online and it was the same as what we paid. So they’re not giving us big discounts or anything. If they had, I would have said something.”
“Good.” He feels better about that and his stomach twists in nervous anticipation. You both had stopped in a little shop where he had purchased a small box of condoms. They feel heavy in his pocket.
“Hey.” The leaden heaviness sits between you as you unlock the door to your room and push it open. Before you even make a move to step inside, you settle your hand on Zach’s arm and offer him a soft, reassuring smile. “Just because we want to doesn’t mean we have to tonight, okay? We can decide to just hang out and cuddle and sleep beside each other and it will still be perfect.”
“Are you having second thoughts?” He asks seriously, trying not to look disappointed, because he doesn’t want that to pressure you.
“Not at all.” You’re quick to assure him of that, pushing open the door and stepping inside. “You just seem…nervous? I don’t know, maybe I’m wrong.”
“Afraid of disappointing you.” He admits with a small huff of amusement at himself as he flashes you a grin. “It’s been a while for me.”
"Then I'm flattered you would choose me to be the one to break that dry spell with." It really is a vote of confidence from him, and you won't take that for granted. Despite the fact that you don't understand how in the hell anyone has ever let him go, you're glad to be the person that is here and ready to see all of the potential he has as a partner.
“I would be fucking crazy not to.” Zach snorts, shaking his head. “Baby you are gorgeous and kind, and everything I don’t deserve.”
"Hey now." You shake your head as you shut the door behind the two of you, flipping the lock and feeling the shiver of anticipation roll through you. But still, hearing him put himself down is the last thing you're comfortable with and when you turn back to Zach you slide your hands up his arms gently. "I wouldn't let somebody else talk about you like that, what makes you think you get to?"
“Habit.” He admits, biting his lip and reaching for your waist to draw you closer. “I’m working on it.”
"I'm here to remind you how incredible you are anytime you need." A strong support system means everything, you learned that the hard way. And you're more than happy to be that for Zach.
“Thanks.” There’s a bit gratefulness and quite a bit of amazement in his eyes as he looks at you. “You are absolutely amazing, you know that?” He asks. “You take my breath away.”
Your hands creep up his arms, sliding around his neck so your fingers can sink into his short, soft hair. "I'd be happy to do that for you literally, if you'd like."
“How would you do that?” He has a pretty good idea, but he wants to hear what you have in mind.
The hum that leaves your lips as you press your body against his is full of promise. "I'd start at the top and work my way down, of course," you tell him, bringing Zach down to meet your lips for a searing kiss.
He can’t help but groan, a grown man melting against you, but he’s already weak in the knees from the passion in just this one kiss. The sense of complete rightness that washes over him as his own arms band around you tighter and he starts to give back to you.
None of the kisses you had shared yet today had been allowed to be this deep. You were in public. You were sharing space with other people. And this is so intensely intimate. It would have felt wrong just to let other people see your naked heart out there on your sleeve. But when it is just the two of you locked safely away in the privacy of a hotel room? You would be a puddle at his feet if it weren’t for the uncanny strength of him holding you tight against his chest.
It’s not hard for his body to respond instantly. He’s already lived most of the day in a state of arousal just being around you. But with the length of your body pressed against his and your tongue coaxing his further into your mouth? He is rock hard and aching. Groaning slightly as he turns both of you towards where the bed should be based on the split second examination of the room earlier.
And just like that you feel ignited. The press of his body against yours as he steers you blindly through around the room is an errant spark that seems to catch on every inch of you. With one hand your fingers card and tug in his hair, nails grazing over his scalp. With the other you pull his shoulders to keep him impossibly close — feeling like you’ll forget to breathe if you stop sharing gasps with him between kisses.
You taste like sweet wine and cream. A perfect combination when mixed with something that is just…you. He can’t describe it, but it’s warm and earthy.
The backs of your legs bump against the bed frame, almost toppling you over and making you hang onto Zach all the more tightly, giggling into the kiss. “Oops,” You can’t help but laugh at how deeply uncoordinated it was, even as out of breath as you are. “Weak knees aren’t very stable, apparently.”
“Then we should lay down.” Zach suggests, grinning against your lips and starting to crouch down.
It doesn’t exactly take convincing. Not when every single time he’s kissed you today has turned you a soaking wet, needy mess. The fact that you finally get to do something about it is exhilarating and relieving all at once. “Hell yes,” you agree, nearly hauling him into the bed with you when you try to kiss him and move at the same time.
He laughs when you both nearly topple over, flopping down on your sides in a move that is not nearly as graceful as he had planned in his mind. “Eager?” He asks. Sliding his hand down your side to your ass.
“Oh, absolutely.” You smirk, but shift your leg ever so slightly so your thigh presses against the front of his shorts. “Just as much as you are.”
“Baby, have you looked in the mirror?” Zach groans, twitching under the pressure. “You’re a complete knockout and fucking sweet as pie.”
“As long as you like what you see, the mirror doesn’t matter.” What you see and what he sees looking at you will never be quite the same, so as long as he likes the version of you that he sees, you’re fine with it.
Zach doesn’t say anything else, he just slowly leans in and presses his lips to yours softly.
It’s such a sweet, gentle gesture that you melt deeper into the mattress. For that one moment there are no thoughts at all left in your head. It’s just Zach and the possibilities.
He follows you, body half covering yours as he lets the kiss deepen slightly. Not too much, but he squeezes your ass gently as he grinds into you.
The roll of his hips earns him a moan, and he swallows it up eagerly so you give him another and hitch one leg up to let him get closer.
He presses deeper into you, slotting his hips between yours as you open up and he gasps into your mouth when his hard cock presses against the heat of your core.
The heat in your belly flares hotter, wicking all the way Down your limbs, and you whimper again because you have no prayer of a coherent sentence or even word in that moment. There’s horny and eager then there’s whatever the hell you are as you grind your hips against his to beg for more.
It’s juvenile, but grinding against you over clothes while he kisses you is the height of eroticism right now. He groans into your mouth before breaking away, wanting to taste every inch of your skin.
He trails kisses along your jaw and throat, making your back arch and stealing your breath all over again. While he begins to travel south you tug at his shirt, trying to tear the damn thing off while your whole body aches for him.
Zach smiles against your skin, cutting his eyes up at you playfully. “You’re too impatient” he teases, pulling away. “Think I’ll blindfold you.”
You pout instantly, but the idea is intriguing enough that you raise an eyebrow at him. “Do I get to see you eventually?”
“Eventually.” He smirks, loving that you are going along with his little idea. “That way you can accurately judge how good I am.”
“I can’t judge your skills with my eyes open?” Delighted to have found him not so very vanilla after all, you let the hand you still have in his hair tug in his curls and grin when he moans.
“You might be overwhelmed by my good looks.” He chuckles and shakes his head. One of the things that made him suggest this is his tattoo. He didn’t want to have a ton of questions about it right now. This wasn’t the time for remembering the past, but enjoying the present.
“Is this a ‘hands off’ situation, too? Or can I at least still touch you?” There are plenty of things you’re willing to try out that you already know you enjoy that people might consider out of the ordinary, but the first time with a new partner you want to feel them in every way.
“You can touch me.” He promises. “I’m just feeling a little shy right now.” He jokes playfully, winking at you. “Don’t want you to get too scared.”
“You have nothing you need to be shy about, but I fully respect having a few hang ups. I’ve got plenty, too.” Reluctantly as you are to take your hands off of him, you reach for your belt instead — or rather, the long sash of fabric that you tied through your belt loops today because you thought it looked a little cuter than a standard belt. “Use this.”
“Are you sure?” He takes the fabric from your hands and holds it up to his eyes playfully.
“I trust you.” You trust him somehow inherently. As though it were as simple as trusting yourself. In a way that sticks in your chest and warms through you like hot cocoa in winter.
He watches you for a moment after pulling the scarf down from his face, “Okay.” He agrees. “I just want this to be something we never forget.”
“I can already guarantee I will never forget any part of today,” you promise him, shivering slightly with anticipation as he settles your former belt gently over your eyes.
He ties it firmly, but not too tight. If you need it off, all you need to do is slip it up your forehead or pull it down. The point of this is to be fun, to explore without judgement and he can’t do that if you are uncomfortable. “Hopefully that’s a good thing and it doesn’t go into your ‘worst dates’ catalog.” He jokes before he slides his hands down to the edge of your shirt to push it up your stomach and drop a kiss right above your belly button.
With every small touch now heightened, your skin tingles with the scrap of his calloused fingers and press of the feather-light kiss. “I don’t fuck on the first date unless it’s a really fucking good date.”
“Me either.” Zach smirks against your skin before he decides to nip your side slightly, laughing quietly when you jump and gasp at the grazing of his teeth. Instead of working down, he decides to work up and nuzzles just under the band of your bra.
One hand blindly makes its way to his shoulder again, grasping the thick cords of muscle there and reminding you just how powerful this broad man is that is being so tender and playful with you. At this point it’s Zach’s game — to explore and to pleasure and to discover — and every point of contact between you is a spark catching fire.
It takes just a second to discover that your bra hooks in the front, to Zach's utter delight, making it easy to unbind your breasts and capture a nipple in his mouth before your shirt is even off or your straps slid down your arms.
The heat and pressure of Zach’s mouth feels boiling even on this warm night, sending you gasping and cursing as you grip his shoulder tighter. If you get any wetter your shorts might outright dissolve, but he would probably consider that a bragging right.
Zach groans against your nipple, loving the little arch to your back, pushing your breast to his mouth more. Offering yourself up.
There is no steady rhythm to any of it as Zach works to take you apart piece by piece. He has a method in his madness, surely, but you are breathless and moaning as he reduces you to a human puddle on the bedsheets. While you can’t see him like this you can definitely feel him, and your hands tug at his shirt again to get that luscious skin-on-skin sensation as he starts to travel down your body.
He takes his time, learning the sensitive spots on your body and enjoying every soft sound he pulls out of your mouth. Until he is dragging your shorts down your legs.
It’s about fucking time says the impatient voice in your head as you squirm in the bed and lift your hips to help him move things along. He’s consented to take his shirt off, at least, so that warmth that rolls off of him in waves can seep directly into your bones. You whimper as the cool breeze of exposure hits your overheated cunt, dripping with need and aching for attention.
“Fuck, you look so pretty right now.” Zach groans at the sight of your wet lips, hair trimmed and manicured. You either were hoping that the night would end this way, or you were very meticulous about your grooming. He’s kind of hoping for the former even though he wouldn’t care if you had done anything. “Baby, you look good enough to eat.”
“Tease.” You whine, trying to sound huffy but only succeeding in strangling another moan when his breath ghosts over your swollen pussy. Even with his hands caressing your thighs, you’re squirming.
It’s been a long goddamn time since Zach has had a pussy in his face, but he loves the musky scent of your wet sex. Making him twitch and groan as he slowly spreads your lips wide for him to drag his tongue up your folds for that first, tantalizing lick.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck—” With your back arching and your fingers tight in his hair, it’s so easy to lose yourself to one little taste.
He makes a sound of pleasure as he flicks his tongue over your clit and comes back for another pass. This time starting lower and letting his tongue tease your entrance before sliding higher.
If you weren’t blindfolded already you might have cum just from the sight of him. His lips and tongue explore while his hands keep you steady, holding you in place so the buck of your hips doesn’t unseat him before he can really get going.
He absorbs your sound, your taste. The very essence of your being, feasted on as he slowly and thoroughly licks through you like a meal he is savoring.
It’s a stunning combination of thorough exploration and eager enthusiasm that has you writing and moaning his name so quickly. You could have had a date yesterday and everything about tonight would already be better. Zach seems somehow to know exactly what you like without asking, reading your signals perfectly air pushing you higher and higher until his name is the only word on your lips.
Zach is completely entranced by the way you respond to his touch, never having a lover he feels so in-sync with. It’s like he’s touched you a million times before rather than just these last few minutes.
The whole world has stopped existing around you. It's just you and Zach and this bed and every new height of pleasure that he keeps building you to. The press of his hands on your hips, the deep push of his tongue, the sharp half-scrape of his teeth near your clit that he's discovered makes you gasp and moan.
“Cum for me baby.” He pulls away to gasp his plea, the need to see you fall apart about to rupture in his veins and make him go mad. His grip tightening on your hips and he dives back into your cunt with the desperation of a man starved that’s reached his oasis.
You don't have to tell me twice, you would say if you could swim through the thick mire of bliss to tease him. Instead, and much more true to the moment, you let out a sobbing moan and beg for just a little bit more to send you over the edge.
He hears the unspoken plea in your whimpers and opens his mouth wider to just devour you. Burying himself into your pussy where his nose is blocked by your mound as he pushes you over the edge and if he died in this moment, he would die blissfully happy.
Your back arches fiercely one more time, lifting your shoulders off the bed as you hit that sharp crest that explodes into your climax. All of your muscles tense and curses spill freely, interspersed with his name and moans entirely without words – until that crest becomes altogether too much, the thread mercifully snaps, and you fall back on the mattress an utterly satisfied puddle.
Zach is slow to pull his mouth away. Savoring the little tremors that race through your thighs and makes your pussy clench against his chin as he laps at your juices one last time before he lifts his head with a groan of satisfaction. “And just think, we’ve only started.” He hums playfully, knowing that the night has just begun.
------ Master Tags: @pixiedurango @chattychell @winter-fox-queen @lady-himbo @artsymaddie @princess76179 @paintballkid711 @missminkylove @pedrosbrat @ew-erin @sarahjkl82-blog @sharkbait77 @justanotherblonde23 @lv7867 @recklesswit @mylittlesenaar @f0rever15elf @gallowsjoker @steeevienicks @athalien @sherala007 @skvatnavle @thatpinkshirt @jaime1110 @girlimjusttryingtoreadfanfics @goodgriefitsawildworld @greeneyedblondie44 @littlemousedroid @harriedandharassed @churchill356 @ajathegreats-blog @haylzcyon   @beardsanddetectives @kirsteng42 @ladykatakuri @adancedivasmom @madiebear @tanzthompson @emilianamason @bigsdinger @xocalliexo @pedr0swh0r3 @avaleineandafryingpan @charlyrmv @avidreader73 @iceclaw101 @loveslide @elegantduckturtle @becsworld @julesonrecord @its-nebuleuse @itsrubberbisquit @mikeyswifie @guelyury @lizzie-cakes @for-a-longlongtime @vabeachazn @purplerain04 @weho2kcmo @madnessofadaydreamer
ItSotN: @greenwitchfromthewoods @copperhalfcent @ariavitiellos @spishsstuff @76bookworm76
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generalsdiary · 1 day ago
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if you accept requests, can i request sunday with an express crew reader who has a fake halo ring on their head because they think that is pretty, they first meet him on the express and went to touch his halo ring thinking it is fake too? i know it is quite long and a bit specific so feel free to skip. And your writing is so good! your little analysis on sunday's wing ADORABLE.
(theirs is just plain sparkly rubber band😭)
hi anon! I do accept requests. and seriously don't worry, I LOVE THE IDEA, it is not at all too specific or long; actually the perfect amount for me to work with.
I would've written this yesterday when you sent the ask, but I was caught up painting (Sunday of all people lmao). also, I'm so glad you like my writing, tysm! hope you like this one, I wrote it really quickly, cos I'm still busy but this had caught my attention for sure.
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Sunday x gn!reader
warnings: none
word count: 400~
One more check in the mirror, yes, it looks good. You nod at your reflection. The golden halo gives the illusion of realness. At least, that is what you tell yourself. It probably looks ridiculous to actual Halovians. Never mind, you smile at your sight in the mirror and head to the main car to greet guests.
Despite visiting Penacony with the crew, you failed to ever meet the infamous Sunday. And he looks even more beautiful in person, it is almost dazing.
“It is a pleasure to meet you.” you chirp, shaking his hand.
“Likewise” Sunday smiles, you can almost hear a choir singing. He looks like an angel. That halo is perfect. Should you ask him for tips? You reach out with your hand. “Your halo looks amazing, how did you make it so perfectly?” and… your fingers pass through nothing. Feeling a bit surprised, you ponder if it is a gadget with a projector? Doubtful. It takes a few moments before you notice that you stunned the poor man.
Sunday dryly chuckles, “It… it is very real, I assure you.” He takes a small step to the side, making his halo move further away from your touch.
To say you blushed would be an understatement. Hoping the Express would crash at that moment just so you wouldn’t have to deal with this situation, “Uh.. I- I am so sorry- I didn’t mean to-“ you fumble with your words trying to salvage the situation.
“I understand. I can see your… pretend one.“ He smiles. You’re internally cursing at yourself and biting the inside of your cheek, could this be any more embarrassing?
“I just think they’re pretty. Angelic, and wonderfully complimentary on a person.” There’s a proud aura around you, maybe you saved the situation.
“Ah, so you’re a flatterer. Thank you, I do agree they are pretty. Although, they are a genetic part of me.” Sunday smiles. Internal high five, you saved the conversation. Except for the fact Sunday looked at you up and down. Is he checking you out? Or judging the way your halo looks on you? Either way, you avert your gaze, swallowing hard. What a bold man.
“I wasn’t trying to flatter-“ No, you gotta be bolder; match his energy, “I know they’re genetic, as I know that your kind can even influence, some of them, how the halo ends up looking.”
There’s a knowing glint in his eyes and an ever-resting smile. “I’ll happily explain how and why… care to get a drink with me and we can sit by one of the windows?” And there’s no way in hell you say no to him.
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evelynpr · 8 hours ago
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Might be a hot take as a bkdk and tgck truther here, but I find izuocha endlessly fascinating, beautiful, but also tearfully tragic.
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I see their love for each other as something representative of their innocence and naivety when they only knew so little about who they were, and what was to come.
I think the main barrier of their relationship is that its rooted in how they see each other very idealistically, specifically that they're attached to the image of their Best Heroic Selves, and not the deeply selfish, destructive, freaky, and egotistical parts of them. To each other, they need to keep fulfilling that image or else that same person they looked up to would almost die in front of them, and that would be too cruel. Although that hero is still there, that same person they looked up to is not the same now because of...well...everything.
Izuku had barely even talked to girls when he first met her. She was Izuku's first ever real friend (Sorry Kats, everyone and him knows he was terrible), so he saved her in that entrance exam even if it was so dangerous. She gave a new meaning to his derogatory nickname just by being a friend that believed in him. After that, she saved him several more times (Blackwhip and Megaphone are the biggest samples iirc). It makes perfect sense that she is Deku's hero.
Ochako hardly knew what it meant to be a hero when she first got into UA. Just by reaching out to some kid tripping, she made a new friend who would then save her in that exam, then save him again in return. This boy then became someone who was always working so hard to save everyone in trouble, and she realized she wanted to be just like him too. "I want to save people"
But...Deku changes. The weight of One for All is on his shoulders and he needs someone to carry this burden with him. He continues to want to save other people at the expense of himself, still not letting his true selfishness and ego ever show- and it only grows more and more unbearable.
Then...Ochako fell in love with Himiko. Truly, relentlessly, selfishly and devotedly in love with a girl who then dies giving her blood to her- the greatest expression of love Himiko could ever give.
Not that they can't love each other because of this happening (and...so many other things oh god), I'm honestly not sure how to explain it- But them ending up together after losing that innocence and naivety? After Ochako will forever grieve the girl who showed her love in its most beautiful and ugly form? After Izuku changed so fundamentally as a person that the butterflies of a nice girl talking to you doesn't exist anymore? After that simple image of being a hero and being in love has completely changed for them both?
Even so, I believe they still love each other. There is no label I know of that can properly describe them though. They are each other's image of being a hero when it comes to saving people. Aside from Shoto, no one else can grasp the grief of the person you tried to save dying in your hands. They would no doubt try to cope with these losses together, and just try to get better together...but so much has changed. They've changed. The world changed. What are they now? Who are they now?
"What happened...to us?"
#I just think the tragedy of falling out of love for the person who represents who they Used to be is so...so painful#Kacchan isn't even here yet and it's already so complicated.#also. Izch healing together after all this would also be really nice#if u like them ending up together thats also perfectly fine too. im just a bkdk and tgck truther myself. thats kinda my whole thing#but izch forming a deep bond from their experiences and saving eachother#and maybe later on trying to date too...oh boy#and them being able to just...be more casual again. talk abt their lives and dreams together too just so they know they have each other#oh itd be so healing and beautiful#im so glad izuku talked to ochako on that cliff man oh man...#izuocha the underrated tragic love that they could've been if ppl werent so close minded abt them#only the real izch fans understand just how much these two actually mean to each other. god bless yall I swear even if I dont ship ship it#thank u to that person who wrote abt them being characters than run in parallel#that narrative structure for them is permanently in my brain. I love these two so much its no joke#my Extra hot take is that izch wouldve been treated better by the fandom if it was gay.#but we'd still agree on bkdk as the endgame after all that happened. maybe. idk this is a hypothetical.#if you switch ock and kats genders...this wouldve been a very different story and fandom. insane food for thought with this one.#ok thats my yap for the night oh god i have so many feelings about them...#evelynpr bnha#bnha#mha#my hero academia#izuocha#actually confidently putting this tag now. sorry for the angst you guys...and maybe being seen as a traitor#im a strong girl I could take on potential haters hahaha...#izuku midoriya#ochako uraraka
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animalistic0 · 3 days ago
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Okay…okay! I have so much to say and I need to get everything that I am feeling and thinking out because OMG
Pregnancy reveal/post by Sarah and John B?!? OMG YESSSSS. Also Pope in the comments being like; “this is why he keeps canceling boys night.” I can’t with them. I love them all, love all the little details and all the little dynamics.
POPE FINALLY GETTING ON COOKING WITH CLEO🥳🗣️🥳🗣️ yesssss it’s happening. I was with my mans waiting for this. Also FOUR YEARS?!? Cleo wrong for that lmao and then dedicating it to the reader. I love our wife fr. She’s the best. Another detail I love is how close we are to Cleo and Pope. Love our besties, love our husband and wife💙🩵🫶 Also John B and Cleo in the comments, fucking dead. Him not knowing the difference between a salt and pepper shaker. Brother what? Cleo please never but please do bring him in the kitchen 😂 a beautiful disaster, waiting to happen.
Readers post about seasonal depression…too real 😂 and all her little comments right after I can’t. Had me laughing harder and harder because it was so relatable. Then JJ coming to save the day….STAWP😍
The instagram post. Calling JJ our knight in shining armor 😩 him flirting in the comments with us. Also RAFE liking the post?!? I saw that. I saw that shit. I don’t know who to like more or who I’m rooting for. At this point neither, I can’t choose. I WANT BOTH. “Both. Both is good.”
Readers tweets about the Cooking with Cleo video is FANTASTIC. Let’s be honest though, all three of us know we ALREADY married. Lmao. We all together, legit love the friendship with Pope and Cleo so much I can’t get enough and can’t express it enough. Pope saying fake news when we say he loves us, that man just can’t admit or say I love you. But it’s okay, he’s our bestie and our wife’s husband.
READERS TEXTS WITH RAFE. don’t get me started….Im started. Him so clearly nervous and scared to scare us off😭 and then us just fucking diving right in. The begging on the knees, I know he’s definitely gonna take that and RUN WITH IT. And I can’t wait. I can’t wait to see what he does with that. The whole conversation had be giggling and kicking my feet.
JJ AND THE READERS😮‍💨🤭 now that DELIVERED!!!! He’s so down bad, omg and I love it. I love him. LIKE I SAID. BOTH. You can’t make us chose, you can’t make reader chose. Damn😭 his; “breathing near you is the highlight of my day. I don’t ever really care about what we are doing.” LIKE OMG, this is so beautiful and sweet and this had me blushing and giggling and kicking my feet. Then him outing himself☠️ 13yrs damn poor man, and that’s a good question about his game 😂 that or we just blind asf.
THE SOS POST; the last post. This post. This Post. THIS. WAS. THE. POST. I was cackling so loud, giggling, everything!!!!! I reread it a million times because it was just beautiful. I have said it and I’ll say it again and forever and forever. POPE AND CLEO ARE THE BEST. I LOVE OUR BESTIES, OUR WIFEY AND HUSBAND. In actuality forget JJ and Rafe. GIVE ME CLEO AND POPE🙏 No, but Cleo springing over and leaving Pope in the dust is so funny I can’t. And poor Pope being so confused until Cleo is like, “Piping tea babe.” AND THEN HIS GIF/MEME OF RUNNING??? Absolutely dead, had me cackling even louder. I can’t explain how much I love Pope and Cleo, especially in this and as our besties. I can’t get over this one, legit my favorite (slide? Picture? Story post? Idk) it’s legit my favorite and was absolutely amazing.
Thank you for not only sharing this but creating this. It’s so amazing, and such a great and entertaining story. I love all the small little details you add to every part and all the little side stories and relationships that are involved in this. For example; John B jumping in the fight and helping defend not only his team but the reader. Topper seemingly always there and confused when reader and Rafe interact 😂 Rafe really needs to update this man on what’s happening fr 😂 it’s all just beautiful. Also Rafe and JJ getting along just for reader and everyone literally being like, okay readerrrrr we see you and your power. My point is this is stunning and I’m in love with it so much. Thank you 🫶💙🥰
Kildare University- Sophomore Year: 8
Synopsis: A Social Media AU in which you find yourself at Kildare University along with your friends. Starting over at a new school shouldn't be difficult. Well, except for the fact that your ex-boyfriend is the quarterback, and you are the drum major. Add in a little bit of drama, a lot of friendship, an ex who can't seem to let you go, and a best friend who has been in love with you since you were kids and well? Welcome to KU!
Pairings: Past!Rafe x Reader, JJ x Reader, Rafe x Reader
Masterlist
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Taglist:
@akobx @onelonelybitch @the-universe-and-karma @beeskisses @frankoceanluvr11 @ivy-34 @rafecameronsloverrrrr @k-k0129 @asyouwish-fromcabin3 @xoxo-ada @aariahnaa @strawberryforks @urbrunettebombshell @whatisoutside @spenceatiny18
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caplanbuckybarnes · 1 day ago
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Rooted Fates (Doctor Strange)
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Summary: Stephen feels familiar with you but he doesn't quite know why.
WC: 1k
Warnings: none? soulmate au?
requested: Hello! May I please request a Soulmates AU fic of Stephen Strange and fem!Reader (who has healing magic & botanical manipulation) and they fall in love again in their current lifetime? (I love fluffy romantic soulmate AUs!) @groovy-lady
read on ao3!
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The night was quiet in the Sanctum Sanctorum, save for the soft hum of arcane energy that lingered in the air. Stephen Strange stood in the dimly lit library, his fingers tracing the edges of a weathered tome, lost in its pages but distracted by something deeper—an almost unshakable feeling that something was missing. It was a sensation he couldn't quite place, like a persistent whisper he could never quite hear clearly enough to understand.
Then, the door creaked open, and a soft voice broke through his reverie.
“Stephen.”
He looked up, his sharp features softening slightly as he met your gaze. You were standing in the doorway, the faintest hint of a smile on your lips. The air around you seemed to shimmer with an ethereal glow, a gentle aura that wrapped around you like a second skin. Your magic—botanical manipulation and healing—was always subtle but powerful, like the way a garden seemed to breathe life into a space.
You weren't just beautiful, though that much was obvious to anyone who’d ever looked at you. It was something else, something deeper. The connection between the two of you stretched beyond this lifetime, beyond this reality. And though Stephen didn’t understand it fully, he knew it was undeniable.
You closed the door behind you and stepped further into the room, the warm light from the candles flickering across your face. The flowers that had once been so bright and vibrant in your presence were now blooming softly in the corners of the room, their petals glowing faintly.
“Busy?” you asked, your voice carrying that familiar warmth that never failed to ease the tension in his chest.
“Not really,” Stephen replied, closing the book with a soft snap. He pushed it aside and looked at you, though his eyes held a distant curiosity. “What is it, Y/N?”
You raised an eyebrow, crossing the room to stand before him. “You’re always lost in those books, Stephen,” you teased softly, your fingers brushing his. It was a simple gesture, but it felt like the entire universe had paused. The touch of your hand on his sent a ripple of recognition through his chest, as though some long-forgotten memory had awoken.
He blinked, his breath catching for a moment. He knew you, he knew you.
But not from this life.
A ripple of images flashed behind his eyes—another life, another time. The two of you, in a meadow filled with flowers, your hands entwined as you whispered secrets to one another. The feel of your breath on his skin, the warmth of your touch. It was a feeling of peace, of home, but it was fleeting, vanishing before he could fully grasp it.
“Stephen?” you asked again, your voice a little quieter this time, concern lining your features.
He blinked, shaking his head as if to clear the sudden onslaught of memories. “Sorry. I... I just had a moment.”
You frowned slightly but didn’t push him. Instead, you stepped closer, your magic wrapping around both of you like a protective cocoon, filling the room with the scent of fresh earth and growing things. “Is everything alright?”
Stephen swallowed hard, unsure how to explain what he had felt—the recognition, the weight of it. The connection between you wasn’t new, but it felt like something more than just fate. It was as if the two of you had known each other across lifetimes. He couldn’t put it into words, but the magic between you—the way it pulsed in time with his own heartbeat—spoke a truth his mind couldn’t yet comprehend.
“I think I remember you,” he said finally, his voice rough with the raw honesty of his admission.
You blinked, your expression softening with understanding. “You remember me from before, don’t you?”
The words hit him like a wave, crashing over him and pulling him under. Before.
“Yes,” he whispered, his hands shaking slightly as he reached out for you, his fingers brushing your wrist. “It’s all coming back now. We were... together before. Weren’t we?”
You smiled softly, your eyes bright with emotion. “Yes. We’ve been through this many times, Stephen. We’ve always found each other.”
Stephen’s heart stuttered in his chest. “How... how is that possible?”
You stepped closer, your hand resting gently on his chest. “We’re soulmates, Stephen. We always have been. I was always the one who healed you, and you... you taught me how to grow. It’s not a love that ends with each life; it simply changes, evolves.”
The weight of the truth settled around him, and he could feel the stirrings of his own magic responding to yours, the bond between you two undeniable. In this life, he had been so lost in his pursuit of power, in his quest to protect the world, that he’d almost missed the most important thing. You.
And now, with you standing before him, he realized what he had always needed, always longed for, even before he had understood the magic of it.
“You healed me before,” Stephen murmured, his voice thick with the depth of emotion he’d been holding back for so long. “You fixed me, even when I didn’t think I could be fixed.”
You smiled, your touch gentle as you cupped his face in your hands. “I heal because of you, Stephen. You taught me the importance of growth—of not just mending what’s broken but nurturing it so it can flourish.”
He took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. “And now... now I understand. It wasn’t just about the magic. It was about us. All of this time... all of these lives. I was meant to love you, wasn’t I?”
You kissed him then, soft and slow, the magic between you building with every touch. There was no rush, no need for urgency, just the slow, steady rhythm of two souls reuniting after a long, long time apart.
When you finally pulled away, your forehead rested against his, your breaths mingling. “Yes. You were always meant to love me. And I was always meant to love you, Stephen Strange.”
As he held you, feeling the quiet power of your connection fill every corner of his being, Stephen knew this was just the beginning. In this lifetime, he would make sure to never let you go, to always nurture the love between you, to grow with you in every possible way.
After all, love was magic—and he had finally found his true spell.
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doctorgirlsblog · 16 hours ago
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Merz Prinzessin vs. Dutch Lion (series)
Part 3: Truth hurts, distractions help
Warnings: mentions of sex, swearing, Lando x Aria
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Max knew that he fucked up, as soon as he opened his eyes to Kelly screaming at him, waving his unlocked phone in her hand, tears falling rapidly from her eyes.
He sat up quickly, momentarily forgetting his pounding headache.
"Baby, woah, wait, slow down. I don't get it." He tried to grab her hand, but she pushed him away, showing his phone in his hands instead. Then she turned around and started rapidly packing her things into a suitcase.
He sat still, frozen, staring at his phone screen, not even trying to stop her.
"..Max...it's Aria."
"I fucked her so good, imagining you underneath me instead."
seen.
Fuck, fuck, fuck. What did he do last night? He sent those. He actually sent them. Aria read them. Kelly now also read them.
He threw his phone on the bed, turning to Kelly again, his face pale.
"Kelly, I...I didn't...it didn't mean...she..."
Words were stuck in the back of his throat, refusing to come out. He knew it was already done and gone, no matter what he tried to say or how he tried to reason. She turned around to face him, her eyes puffy and red, her expression completely broken. He winced.
"Why, Max? Why? And with her, of all people? Did I really mean so little to you after all these years? Did P mean nothing to you?"
He opened his mouth again to stop her, to beg for forgiveness and say how much of an idiot he is and that he does love her, but she raised her hand.
"Save it, Max. Save it for her. Don't you ever try to contact me again. We're done. I'm done with you."
Her suitcase already zipped up, the only thing visible to him was her back as she left the room, one last time.
He sat back on the bed, his throbbing headache and hangover now long forgotten.
He needed to see Aria.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Aria woke up, rolling over in her comfortable pillows, when someone began knocking—no, rather, pounding—on her door. The fuck? She groaned.
"I swear, it is way too early for this shit." She mumbled under her breath, sleepily padding to the door. She swung them open, a scowl on her face, not even looking up to see who disturbed her beauty sleep.
"What the fuck could be so important, to be knocking my verdammte door down in the, -Max?!" Her eyes snapped up to his stormy ones in surprise.
He didn't say a word as he stepped beside her and entered the room, pacing around.
"Oh, please, do come in." She waved sarcastically.
"Good morning, Aria. Did you sleep well? Yeah, great, thanks for NOT asking." She turned to him and closed the door.
He was still silent. She looked him up and down. He looked terrible: mismatched clothes, bloodshot eyes, messy hair, and a terribly pale face.
He kept looking at her, his hands shaking at his sides.
Something was wrong.
"Max, are you okay? What are you even doing here so early?"
"Aria, I'm so sorry. For what I wrote. I really am. I was drunk and..I fucked up, really bad. Kelly saw those messages this morning. She left." He sat on the stool, putting his head in his hands.
Flashbacks of last night hit her all at once.
Shit.
She shuffled from the door and sat on the bed, facing him.
"Look, Max, for what it's worth, I'm sorry about your...relationship. But shouldn't you be going after Kelly instead? Why are you even here when you could have texted me your apology?"
His head snapped up, all his pent up anger coming to the surface. Last thread snapped.
"You're sorry? You're sorry?! You brought this upon me. You did this. I was happy and content with what i had! She kept looking at him pasively. "Everything is a fucking game to you, isn't it? All those teasings, flirting..what was your goal? To ruin me? My relationship? Well, congratulations. Job well fucking done, Aria."
She stood up calmly, looking up into his eyes.
"You ruined your relationship Max. Not me. You were the one fantasizing about other woman, all while fucking yours. " His hand reached out, wrapping around her throat instantly, forcefully slamming her down on the bed. He was fumming.
She laughed, straight at his face.
His hand was tight on her throat, making it hard to breath, but she still managed to keep talking.
"See? Even when...you hate me, you still want...me.." her laugh came out as a cough, eyes shining, challenging him silently.
"So go on Maxie. Kill me..or kiss me. We both know..what it will be." he pulled away from her instantly. She laughed again, coughing slightly, rubbing on her neck.
"See? You're way more fucked up than you think, Max. You did this to yourself. Not me. " she sat up, putting her hand on his cheek, moving his head to face her.
His expression was stoic, but his mind..
He wanted to push her away, to yell again and blame her for everything. At the same time, he wanted to kiss her until her lips bruised, until her moans were the only sound filling out this damned room. He knew it was his fault. He let her play this game, thinking he can win, until she crawled under his skin and changed everything.
She was still starring at him, those green eyes looking through all of his carefully zipped up layers, peeling him bare before her. Her soft hand was warm against his cold cheek, what made him involonterily lean more into her touch. What did you do to me Aria? He didn' realise he said it ouldloud, until she answered. His eyes snapped up to hers.
"I didn't do anything Max. You just fell for me, like everyone else does."
Her words were sweet, but cocky, slapping him like a cold shower. He quickly pulled away from her, standing up from bed, peacefull moment now long gone.
"This," he pointed between them with his finger, "whatever it is, stops now. I'm done playing with you."
He turned around, ready to leave, to go and try to contact Kelly, to save the remains of what was ruined. Her voice stopped him at the door, hand already on the handle.
"You can run Max. It won't change the truth. You want me. And you hate that you can't change it. " his grip on the handle thightened, his fingers turning white.
"So whether you like or not, I'll win next week. And I'll make you good deal on that bet of ours. In the meantime, viel Glück."
He opened the door and stepped out, not turning back, letting them slam behind him. She let out a breath she didn't realise she was holding. He did the same on the other side.
---------------
Aria got dressed, deciding to go downstairs to breakfast. After all that happened, she needed some energy back.
She was sipping on her coffee, when someone pulled the chair beside her. She looked up, smiling Lando starring back at her.
"Morning Aria! Mind if I join you?" His dimples even more visible, no traces of his hangover visible.
She traced her eyes across his body, his hoodie and instantly thought about Max's mismatched outfit this morning when he stormed in her room.
"Morning Lan. Of course, take a seat." She smiled. Maybe she needed a distraction at the moment. She knew that Brit before her was more than happy to provide it. And he was sure to brag about it later, to whom of course if not his dear friend Max. Sweet smile turned to smirk. Lando shuffled in his chair, turning to face her.
"Listen Ari, I'm sorry for last night. I was really drunk and kinda needy.." he laughed, before she interupted him. "Oh, kinda needy? Not begging at my door?" She teased him.
"Well, you did leave me with a boner..and that combined with alcohol, yeah..hah." he smiled again, light blush appearing on his cheeks.
Her finger landed on his lips. He looked down at her, like deer caught in headlights, gulping.
"It's okay Lan.. I'm aware of the effect i have on you." her voice dropping down, finger brushing across his lips, before she continued. "I didn't want you drunk. That's all."
Lando gulped again. So, she wanted him..now??
"Ari, I-"
"Shh..let's finish our breakfast. Then we can move to tge dessert." She smirked again, before pulling away and continuing where she stopped.
Lando was done. His mouth snapped shut, he tried to pull his hoodie down more, to hide the semi hard on he was currently sporting, thanks to the little minx beside him, who was peacefully eating.
Few minutes passed in comfortable silence, nbefore he felt her hand on his right thigh, massaging the place slowly. He almost choked on his smoothie, trying to wiggle away. Her hand was steady and she hardened her grip on his leg.
"So..i'm done Lan. Care to join me upstairs?" She didn't even need to ask, he was already up and behind her, following her through the lobby like a horny puppy.
She smiled to herself. Let the games begin.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Lando dropped beside her, panting hard, beads of sweat rolling down his forehead.
"Baby, that was...wow. I...bloody hell." he chuckled, trying to pull her to his side. She swatted his hand away, standing up and putting her clothes back on.
"You can go ahead and shower before you leave, Liebchen. I have some errands to run." Lando's smile fell.
"You're leaving already?" She turned to him, smiling sweetly.
"Lan, honey. I have to; I have things to do. It was good sex, but there won't be anything more than that. You know that."
"Yeah..." he mumbled.
"Good! Thank you for understanding. Please take your time, I’m coming back later this evening. See you around, handsome.” And with a kiss to his lips, she was gone.
Go on, Lan, text your friend and brag about it, she thought, smirking to herself as she stepped out.
In the meantime, Max was sitting in his room, desperately trying to get ahold of Kelly, but with no success.
His whole life turned upside down in one fucking day. But it has been long coming.
His phone pinged, Lando texting him.
"Mate you wont believe the shit that just happened."
Max scoffed, not in the mood, but answered nonetheless.
"What happened mate?"
"So, you know how Aria was all over me last night? Well, she didn't let me in the room at the end." Max smiled.
"But then I saw her getting breakfast this morning, and she practically pulled me to her room afterward."
Max froze, his phone slipping from his hand. Aria slept with Lando, right after he left?
He left him on read, standing up, and pouring himself a glass of whiskey.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
One empty bottle later, Max was back to repeating last night's mistakes.
His hands worked faster than his drunken mind, and he was pressing send before he even registered it.
"You think that kid can fuck you the way you need it? You have no idea."
Reply came almost instantly. Like she was waiting for it, knowing he would do it. Like a viper preying on her next victim. He cursed.
"You seem to be tough only when you're drunk, Maxie. Oh and btw, i didn't need to imagine anyone else to be able to cum. Unlike you."
Max smashed the glass against the wall. Fucking hell.
Why does she keep doing this?
He texted her again.
"Hilton, Room 603. I can show you better. Way better than that kid."
Seen. Of course she didnt answer. Nor did she come over. He was stupid to even think so.
Reply though, came eventually, a couple of hours later, with a photo attached.
Max was fast asleep when the phone lit up the dark room. Squinting and opening the chat, his heart dropped.
Her sweet smile was the first thing he noticed. It wasn't flirty, it wasn't teasing, and it most definitely wasn't the smirk she usually served him. In the nape of her neck, cuddled into her shoulder, was a mop of messy brown curls, sleeping peacefully, a faint smile visible from the side of his face.
"And so the coward claimed he was The Lion. Sleep well, Max. I sure will."
She wasn't his. She wasn't even his friend. Most of the time, they were able to tolerate or tease each other. So why did it hurt this much then, seeing Lando beside her?
They didn't talk the next day nor the rest of the week. They avoided each other like the plague at media day, just like Friday and Saturday afterward. Race day kept the same rhythm until she parked in the Parc Ferm�� in front of No. 1, celebrating her first win of the season.
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krakerjaksstuff · 1 day ago
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Okay so I’ve been trying to figure out why Viktor continues to give Jayce the rune(?) in the first place because if Viktor has the power of going through all the timelines, then he must’ve seen the one where hexcore was never invented and how much greater things were. So I have 3 theories:
(Btw I don’t know anything about LoL lore and am basing this off the show only)
1. Viktor still does his Glorious Evolution thing. Maybe it’s not as impactful or as big as the one in the show but it still happens and Jayce isn’t there to stop/prevent it
2. I’d like to think it’s a not even a choice for Viktor to find Jayce when he’s freezing to death and to save him because to have a universe where Jayce is dead is inconceivable to Viktor. So Viktor always saves him, but why does he give him the rune? Maybe it’s because Viktor does it for himself. He sees Jayce look up at him with unbridled awe and it reminds him so much of the older Jayce who had that exact same expression whenever he saw Viktor. Maybe selfishly, he wants him and Jayce to meet no matter what because he wants all Viktors to have a Jayce who will love them unconditionally and view them as the opposite of broken, even if the apocalypse might happen because of this choice. But that’s why Viktor keeps on trying with different runes, so he can find a universe where they do stop the apocalypse and where him and Jayce will be together. (And the beautiful thing is that they do find one)
3. Just some combination of the 2 above
If I missed anything/got anything wrong or anyone else has theories, I’d love to hear them :)
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unicornpopcorn14 · 3 months ago
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Chuuya's reaction to Dazai getting hurt during the Lovecraft fight has always been so interesting to me...
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Because it's the kind of worry you'd never expect from a character as gruff as Chuuya, who had displayed nothing but hostility towards Dazai so far. Usually, characters that are labelled as "angry" or "anger issues" (which Chuuya is much more complex than that but you get my point) act more as a tsundere type of way when the one they "don't care about" gets hurt. And show their care in very, very subtle ways (ex. their eyes widen, their mouth parts and closes again, etc) before putting up their front once more.
Chuuya, however, is open, and vocal about it. His worry is clear not only to us, but to Dazai himself, the one he shouldn't be displaying the concern to (as per the cliche). Shouldn't it be some sort of secret that Chuuya does care? Isn't that what skk's dynamic has been shaping up to be until now?
I'm telling you- the way my mind blanked when Chuuya just casually.... showed concern not once, but twice, was a sight to see.
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Besides, the context makes it much more confusing, because Dazai isn't some rookie, and Chuuya knows that more than anybody. He was the youngest executive in Port Mafia's history, of course he can handle a hit or two. Of course he'd seen him handle a hit or two, sometimes without batting an eye.
Heck, Chuuya himself was hurling Dazai like a ragdoll in their reunion, which was their last meeting. And you could argue that he was going easy on him, but Dazai has mostly withstood the same damage (as far as I could see), and Chuuya was as bitter as ever.
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So that kind of contradicts both what we knew of Chuuya so far, and how their dynamic was shaped to be. I mean, that just makes Chuuya a hypocrite, yeah? What makes him care now, all of a sudden? What makes him care at all?
Well, to me, this backasswards reaction implies one (or more) of the following:
- Dazai rarely got physically hurt during their partnership and thus this is an unexpected thing for him to see (during a mission).
- The four years of separation made Chuuya unsure of how much Dazai can withstand physically now. Also the fact that he isn't in the mafia anymore, aka fighting enemy organizations on the weekly, would naturally make Dazai lose his touch in a way, what prompts Chuuya's reaction.
- Dazai getting taken off guard took him off guard which led to panic. Especially since the situation was (momentarily) out of their depth. Seriously wtf even was Lovecraft?
- During the dungeon scene Dazai was an enemy, while in the Lovecraft fight he was as an ally. The difference might be significant to Chuuya.
- This has always been Chuuya's reaction to Dazai getting hurt regardless of the situation.
- "Only I can hurt him like that" ahh logic
- Asagiri was still experimenting with their dynamic and thus there are some inconsistencies.
This scenario didn't play out again (after their reunion) for me to exactly determine which one is more plausible, but it is 100% canon for Chuuya to shamelessly show his concern and run to Dazai to check on him before properly dealing with their opponent, which I find to be such an appealing layer to their dynamic, and a good spin on the type of character he gets stereotyped as.
Bonus: Dazai also becomes a softy when Chuuya's hurt, especially post corruption. Dead Apple alone displays that multiple times.
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All in all, Skk are doing a terrible job at maintaining their 'hostile' and 'antagonistic' relationship post their reunion. Freaks.
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astralhope · 1 month ago
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Rank 54: The true king of Numbers!!
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kbwrites · 3 months ago
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Heated Waters
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synopsis: being married is hard, being married without seeing each other is even harder.
⚝ content: Hiromi Higuruma x F! Reader, nsfw, bathtub sex, fingering, Hiromi neglects his wife, but boy does he make up for it
⚝ wc: 1.9k
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“Yeah we do it pretty much every day.”
Satoru said, taking a leisurely sip of his water. His pale face alight with mischief, a shit-eating grin across his lips. His three coworkers stared at him in (jealousy) disbelief.
Suguru was the first to break the silence, wanting to save face “Everyday is a bit much, isn’t it, Satoru?”
Satoru chuckled, his blue eyes glinting with amusement as he watched his friend squirm. "What about you guys? How often do our married friends get it in?" His gaze flickered to Nanami, who cleared his throat and adjusted his glasses, his eyes fixed on the steam rising from his coffee cup.
“Twice a week, I suppose…”
Satoru's smile widened, clearly entertained by the responses he was drawing out. He then turned his attention to the oldest among them, Hiromi Higuruma, who was carefully straightening his tie, a subtle attempt to avoid eye contact.
“What about you, Higuruma?”
“Your wife, (Y/N) is a little younger than you, right? C’mon Higuruma-San…She a total freak?” Satoru teased.
Hiromi's jaw tightened, a flicker of irritation crossing his features as his grip on his coffee cup tightened. He took a slow, measured breath, his voice strained but controlled when he finally spoke.
“Please don’t talk about my wife like that.”
But Satoru, ever the instigator, didn’t back down. “It’s just us guys riiggght? And I can’t lie Higuruma, you’re one lucky guy. (Y/N) is a catch.”
Nanami nodded in agreement, as did Suguru, though both seemed to sense the discomfort growing in Hiromi. The older man could only sigh, his shoulders sagging under the weight of the conversation.
It was true—you were everything he could have ever wanted in a partner. Beautiful, intelligent, kind-hearted—his perfect match. If heaven existed, Hiromi was certain you’d be the only one worthy of it.
But long nights in the office, and early mornings preparing for court would take a toll on any relationship. The truth was… Hiromi hadn’t touched you in over a month. By the time he came home—you were fast asleep, and weekends were spent running the mountain of errands you couldn’t get to during the week. You loved each other of course, but it was hard. A month without feeling the warmth of your husband's hands all over your skin was starting to weigh heavily on both of you.
“You don’t have to answer Higuruma-san..” Nanami chimed in, sensing his elder colleague’s discomfort.
“Over a month.” Hiromi exhaled, the truth slipping out before he could stop it.
The room fell silent, the weight of his words sinking in.
“WHAT?” Gojo audibly gasps. “Your wife looks like THAT and you haven’t f—”
Suguru swiftly cut him off with a well-placed elbow to the chest. “Satoru… leave Higuruma alone.” The long-haired male warns. “Still, that is surprising.”
“I know I know..” Higuruma pinches his bridge. He wanted nothing more than to have his wife under him… on top of him. But the endless stream of work kept him trapped in a cycle of exhaustion. “I’ve been so busy I can’t even remember the last time I actually spoke to her properly.”
Suguru offered an apologetic smile. “Sounds like you need a break.”
“Sounds like you need some puss—” Nanami quickly elbowed Satoru in the chest before he could finish his sentence.
Hiromi shook his head, letting out a dry chuckle as he ran a hand through his dark locks, clearly frustrated with himself. “I appreciate your concern, guys, but I don’t see how I can take a break right now. I have so much work to do, and I’m the only one who knows how to handle all of it.”
“Higuruma-San. Satoru will take care of the paperwork for you.” Nanami suggested with a deadpan expression.
“HUH?” Satoru blurted out, clearly caught off guard by the sudden assignment.
“Yeah,” Nanami continued, ignoring Satoru’s protest. “It’s not like he actually does any work around here anyway.”
Suguru smirked, nodding in agreement. “That’s true. You might as well make yourself useful, Satoru.”
Before Hiromi could protest, the trio moved in unison—Suguru grabbing Hiromi’s briefcase, Nanami steering him toward the door, and Satoru sighing dramatically as he resigned himself to the task.
“Are… are you boys sure about this? I don’t want to burden you–”
“Nonsense! Go home and take care of your wife!”
Hiromi placed his briefcase by the door, his tie feeling suddenly too tight around his neck. He loosened it with a sigh, running a hand through his hair as he glanced around. The familiar scent of home greeted him. It was comforting yet bittersweet, a reminder of all the moments he had missed. The living room was tidy, the soft hum of the dishwasher running in the kitchen. You had clearly been busy, taking care of the house as you always did, even when he wasn’t around.
“Honey?” Hiromi calls out to you, his voice echoing slightly in the stillness.
Frowning, he shrugged off his jacket and draped it over the back of a chair before making his way down the hall. As he approached the bathroom, he noticed a faint light seeping out from under the door, accompanied by the sound of water gently lapping against the tub.
He hesitated for a moment, then slowly opened the door.
The sight that greeted him made his breath catch in his throat. There you were, reclining in the bathtub, your eyes closed, head resting on the edge as steam rose around you. The soft glow of candles illuminated the room, casting a warm, serene light over your features.
You looked so peaceful, so beautiful—that it almost hurt to look at you. The tension in his shoulders eased slightly as he took in the sight, but the guilt and longing only deepened. How long had it been since he’d taken the time to appreciate you like this? Since he’d been able to just… be with you?
You opened your eyes, gaze meeting your husband as he leaned against the door frame.
“Hiromi?” you murmured, your voice soft, almost questioning, as if unsure whether he was really there or just a figment of your imagination.
“Hey Honey…” his voice equally soft, as he took a tentative step closer. The warmth of the room seemed to wrap around him, melting away some of the day’s stress.
“You’re home early.” You muse, looking at him as you rested your arms on the tub. He doesn’t respond, just walks towards you with purposeful steps.
Hiromi stares down at you with half-lidded eyes.“The guys decided I need a break.” He paused, his breath hitching slightly as he continued, “Can I join you?” A playful smirk tugged at the corner of your lips.
“Only if you take off your clothes this time.”
A dry chuckle escaped his lips as he unbuttons his dress shirt, letting each article of clothing fall to the tile floor. As he finally sheds his boxers before settling behind you. You exhaled softly, the tension you’d been holding onto for weeks dissipating as you sank into your husband’s embrace.
Hiromi didn’t waste a moment, his lips finding the sensitive skin of your neck, placing lazy, lingering kisses along the curve where your shoulder met your throat. His breath was warm against your skin, his kisses slow and unhurried, as if savoring every second, every inch of you.
His hands weren’t idle either, tracing gentle patterns along your stomach, moving upwards to cup your breasts with a tenderness that made your breath hitch. He nipped lightly at your earlobe, his voice a husky murmur, “I’ve missed you… more than you know.”
“Missed you too ‘Romi..” Your voice trembling as the almost foreign heat began to pool in your core.
Deft fingers teased your nipples, rolling and pinching—eliciting a soft moan from your lips as your body arched into his touch. Your hand reached back, tangling in his dark locks, pulling him closer as his lips traveled down to your shoulder, his other hand snaking under the water to your aching cunt.
“ahhhh… s-shitt..” You cry out as Hiromi’s fingers slowly circle your swollen bud. His touch light, teasing.
“Thirty-two days… I’m so sorry m’love.” He mumbles into your shoulder as he slips a slender digit into your entrance. Your walls flutter immediately around the intrusion, as he gently pumped into you.
He adds another finger, curling up to the spot he had neglected all those weeks. He extended his thumb to rub your clit. You arch your back against him, feeling his cock twitch against your ass.
“Hiro…” you moan, reaching behind for him, but he bites down lightly on your shoulder.
“Not yet, pretty girl, want you t’cum first okay?”
He whispers as he feels your gummy walls clench around him.
He speeds up his ministrations, digits stuffing your cunt as your pussy throbs and squelches. Your whimpers echo around the tiled walls, water lapping around your bodies.
You feel the pressure building as each thrust of his long fingers brush against your g-spot.
“g-gonna cum!”
“Cum f’me sweetheart please—god… need it so bad.” Hiromi mumbles as he pumps even faster.
“a-ahh!” you cry as you reach your high, walls clenching as you cum on your husband’s hand. He removes his fingers from you, moving to gently circle your clit as you come down from your orgasm.
You both stay there for a moment, your heavy breathing the only sound occupying the space, mingling with the gentle slosh of water against the porcelain tub. Hiromi’s arms wrapped securely around your waist, pulling you closer.
Slowly, he lifted you, the warm water swirling around you both as he maneuvered you to face him, settling you on his lap. Your legs instinctively wrapped around his waist, your knees pressing against the cool sides of the tub.
You straddled Hiromi, your bodies now fully aligned, chest to chest. Your husband's dark, half-lidded eyes bore into yours, his expression a mixture of raw need and unspoken tenderness. He let his hands rest on your waist for a moment, thumbs tracing gentle circles against your damp skin as he took in the sight of you.
“I don’t know how I’ve stayed away from you for so long…” his voice breaking slightly as if the admission pained him.
Your breath hitched as you shifted slightly in his lap, feeling the tension between you intensify. Hiromi’s hands slid up your sides, his touch deliberate and slow, leaving a trail of heat in their wake as his lips finally found yours. The kiss was deep, full of hunger that had been simmering between you both for far too long.
His grip on your waist tightened as he deepened the kiss, his tongue sliding against yours in a dance that left you dizzy with need.
Breaking the kiss, Hiromi leaned his forehead against yours, his breath coming in shallow gasps.
“I won’t make that mistake again.”
Without a word, he rose from the tub, lifting you effortlessly into his arms. Water cascaded down your bodies, pooling at your feet as he carried you toward the bedroom, his lips trailing wet kisses down the side of your neck.
He laid you gently onto the bed, your back sinking into the soft silken sheets, but Hiromi didn’t waste any time. His gaze darkening as he climbed over you, his body hovering just above yours, his eyes drinking you in like a man starved.
“I’m going to make up for every second I’ve missed.”
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tender-rosiey · 2 months ago
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yoo rose I started following you a little while ago and I really liked you. I saw that your requests are open and I would like to ask for a scenario where Nanami arrives drunk and his wife takes care of him while he talks about how he loves her I liked all your stories with my businessman <3
unsteady love — nanami kento x f!reader
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a/n: so glad that you do, love! <33 hope you like this one too 🫶🫶
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kento stumbles slightly into your house, catching himself against the wall before you steady him, “kento… you’re drunk.”
he blinks down at you, the usually serious expression on his face replaced by something softer, more relaxed. there’s a faint flush coloring his cheeks, and he lets out a low, rumbling chuckle.
“I am not drunk,” he declares, his voice slurred just enough to betray him. “I’m... just—” he waves his hand vaguely in the air, searching for the right word. “...enlightened.”
you suppress a smile and guide him to the couch, sitting him down gently. “sure, ‘enlightened.’” you shake your head, amused. “stay put, I’ll get you some water.”
as you move to the kitchen, you hear him muttering to himself. “can’t believe I’m drunk,” he grumbles, almost like he’s scolding himself, “what kind of a husband does that?”
when you return, cup in hand, he’s sitting with his head leaned back against the couch, his eyes half-closed. but when you approach, he perks up immediately, watching you with a soft, slightly dazed look.
“you’re so beautiful,” he says. his voice is quieter, more sincere, and it catches you off guard for a second. nanami isn’t exactly shy about how he feels, but this is a side of him you don’t see often.
“drink,” you instruct, handing him the water to avoid the sudden rush of emotions his words bring. he takes the glass without complaint, but even as he drinks, his eyes never leave you.
after a few sips, he sets the glass down on the table and leans back again, sighing contentedly. “you take such good care of me,” he says softly, almost to himself, “I don’t deserve you.”
you chuckle at the sudden sentimental turn. “kento, you’re acting like I’ve just saved your life. you had a few drinks. you will be okay.”
he shakes his head, looking at you with those hazy, half-lidded eyes. “it is serious. you’re always here for me. always... my constant. my…” he trails off, struggling for the right words in his drunken haze, “you make everything better. I love you.”
his words are raw, unfiltered by the usual restraint he keeps on his emotions. there’s a vulnerability in the way he says it that makes your heart tighten.
“I love you too,” you reply, brushing a strand of hair from his forehead. “now, let’s get you cleaned up.”
but before you can pull away, he grabs your wrist gently, pulling you closer. “no, you don’t get it.” he’s more insistent now, his eyes fixed on yours with an intensity that’s surprising given his state. “I really love you. I think about it all the time, all—the time.”
you laugh softly, though his words tug at something deep inside you. “you can tell me all about it when you’re sober.”
he doesn’t let go, though, his grip still gentle but firm. “I mean it. you make the worst days worth it. you... you’re everything.”
a soft laugh escapes you, touched by his sincerity but also aware of how much the alcohol is loosening his tongue. “I know, kento. you’ve told me before.”
nanami pouts—a rare expression that looks so out of place on his usually stoic face. “but I don’t say it enough. you deserve to hear it.”
he blinks sloppily as he stares at you before murmuring, "I need to marry you."
you let out a soft laugh and kiss his cheek, "we are married, you silly man."
in a once in a lifetime incident, your husband stares at you, eyes wide, face reddening by the second. he looks down at his feet for a few moments, then you see him hum, "that's nice."
his seriousness is almost comical given the state he’s in, and you can’t help but tease him a little. “y'know, you’re awfully chatty for someone who insisted they weren’t drunk.”
he lets out a sigh, leaning his head back again and releasing your wrist, “fine, fine. maybe I’m a little drunk. but it doesn’t change the fact that I—”
before he can finish, he shifts too quickly and almost topples off the couch. you rush to catch him, but you fall with him, and he blinks, disoriented, before breaking into a lopsided smile. “maybe a lot drunk.”
“yeah, maybe,” you say with a laugh, helping him sit back up. “come on, let’s get you to bed.”
as you help him to his feet, he leans heavily against you, his arm draped over your shoulder. you guide him down the hallway, his weight familiar but the situation still amusingly foreign.
normally, he’s the one doing the taking care of—you can’t help but relish this rare moment where the roles are reversed.
once you’ve managed to get him into bed, he pulls you down next to him, refusing to let go of your hand. his eyes, though heavy with sleep, remain fixed on you with that same soft, adoring look.
“you’re the best thing that ever happened to me,” he mumbles, his voice thick with exhaustion and sincerity, “we have to go to malaysia together.”
“sure,” you smile, brushing your fingers through his hair as his eyes finally flutter shut. “goodnight, kento.”
just as you’re about to pull away, his hand tightens around yours once more, and he whispers, half-asleep, “I love you.”
his words are softer now, less dramatic than before but still brimming with emotion.
you watch him for a moment, his features relaxed in the dim light, and feel a warmth spread through your chest. this side of him—unguarded, affectionate, and a little silly—is one you cherish just as much as his usual seriousness.
as he drifts off, you press a gentle kiss to his forehead, letting his words linger in the air, “I love you too.”
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