#seriously go listen to strange trails

[itsscaredycat]

the truth is stranger than my own worst dreams

oh the darkness got a hold on me

[violetskylights0]

Can you please do selvika if her and the reader did nnn(no nut November) like you did with vi (To be honest she would probably be like no 😭) Its ok if you don't want to

I am a Vi girl to my very core but I must give the people what they want. I thought it would be cute and short...and now we have some of the nastiest shit I have ever written. I hope it's everything you wanted and more xoxo. @starisinlovewiththemoon

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Games we like to play (18 +)

Prostitute!reader x Sevika

Warnings: Degradation/Smut/Pet names/Kind of cute?

No Nut November. Just saying it felt ridiculous. You’d heard about it before—whispers in the brothel about Piltover clients and their strange indulgences in self-denial. You’d always dismissed it as yet another quirk of the privileged: something to laugh at, not take seriously.

And it wasn’t like you had the luxury of turning down indulgence. Working at the brothel wasn’t about holding back; it was about giving people exactly what they wanted. Or needed. You didn’t care much either way—clients came and went, their faces blurring together after a while.

That is until Sevika walked in.

You’d known her by reputation, of course. Everyone in the Undercity did. She was Silco’s right hand, the enforcer with a mechanical arm and a short temper to match. People whispered about her in a way that made you assume she was ruthless, dangerous, someone you didn’t want to cross paths with unless you had to.

So, when she first stepped into your room, you froze. The light was dim, but there was no mistaking her broad shoulders, the scar cutting across her cheek, or the way her eyes flicked over the space with a calculated calm.

You expected her to bark orders, to demand something rough or impersonal. But instead, she went to your bar cart, poured herself a drink, and leaned casually against the wall. “Nice setup,” she’d said, her tone low and unhurried.

Her behavior threw you. You weren’t sure what to make of her—this woman who seemed both entirely in control and quietly restrained. You talked for a while, about nothing in particular, and the longer you listened, the more the fear melted into something else. Curiosity, maybe. Intrigue.

A drink or two in, though? That reserved demeanor? Gone. That night, she paid for three hours—and she’d used every minute.

Since then, she’d been your only client. It wasn’t just the money—though she made sure you didn’t need anyone else—but the connection. She was different. Reserved but attentive, with a way of making you feel like the only person in the room. You didn’t put labels on it—Sevika wasn’t the type for that—but it was something. Enough to make you bold.

Which is how this conversation started.

“I heard one of my coworkers talking about it with her Piltover client,” you said, voice light as you trailed your fingers along Sevika’s arm. The sheets rustled between your legs as she came up for air and propped herself up on one elbow, dark eyes narrowing at you in amusement.

“Go on,” she said, her voice low and rough, already laced with suspicion.

“It’s this thing they do. No Nut November.” You tried not to laugh at the words, but Sevika’s expression—a mix of disbelief and amusment—nearly broke your composure.

“No... what now?” she repeated, her lips twitching into a smirk.

You bit your lip, enjoying the rare moment of catching her off guard. “Basically, it’s a whole month where you’re not allowed to... you know.”

Sevika snorted, dropping her head and rolling on her side “You’re telling me people do this shit on purpose?”

“Apparently,” you said, biting back a grin. “Some kind of self-control thing.”

“Sounds like something those Piltover assholes came up with. Too much money, not enough brains.” Her voice was dry, but the faint chuckle undercut the sharpness.

“Probably,” you agreed, laughing softly. “But... it could be fun.”

Sevika stilled, her gaze snapping back to you. “What?”

“We could try it,” you said, keeping your voice as casual as possible. “Just for the hell of it. What’s the harm?”

She sat up fully, pulling her tank top back on as she shook her head. “No offense, sweetheart, but isn’t the whole point of what we do to not hold back?” Her tone was blunt, but there was an edge of curiosity behind it like she couldn’t quite believe what she was hearing.

You frowned, the remainder of your undefined “arrangement” stinging a little. But you weren’t about to give up that easily.

“C’mon, Sev,” you murmured, letting the sheet slip off your body as you stood. Her gaze flicked downward for a moment before she caught herself, her jaw tightening.

“You barely have time to visit me these days,” you said softly, stepping closer. “I know things are... hard right now. Silco’s gone. You’re picking up all the pieces. I just thought maybe this could be something to take your mind off it all. Something just for us.”

You reached up, your fingers brushing against her cheek, tracing the rough edge of the scar there. Sevika exhaled, her shoulders relaxing slightly under your touch.

“And,” you added, your voice dropping as your hand moved to her arm, “think about how good it’ll feel at the end of the month. Me, all needy. And you…” Your fingers grazed the hard lines of her bicep, drawing her attention.

“Pent up?” she finished for you, a low chuckle rumbling in her chest.

You grinned. “Exactly.”

She stared at you for a long moment, her expression unreadable. Then, with a heavy sigh, she reached for your waist, pulling you closer. “You’re gonna be the death of me,” she murmured, her voice softening as her forehead rested against yours.

You smiled, standing on your toes to kiss her. Her lips were warm and surprisingly gentle, a contrast to the roughness of her calloused hand as it held you steady.

“Fine,” Sevika muttered against your lips, pulling you closer as she sealed the deal. “Two weeks. But don’t think for a second I’m making it easy for you.”

You couldn’t help the grin that spread across your face as you pulled back, excitement bubbling up like steam in a kettle about to burst. For a moment, you thought you saw the faintest flush creeping up her neck, but she turned away too quickly for you to be sure.

“Two weeks,” she repeated, adjusting her cape as if to distract herself. “You’re playing a dangerous game, sweetheart.”

You smirked, leaning against the doorway to watch her go. “I wouldn’t want it any other way.”

This was going to be very, very interesting.

The first week wasn’t so bad. You stuck to your usual routine, and seeing Sevika three times that week made it unexpectedly fun.

Tuesday’s visit to her apartment was a perfect example. She’d summoned you with a cryptic, “Come by tonight,” and though her tone was casual, it always managed to spark a thrill deep in your chest.

Navigating the labyrinth of Zaun’s backstreets was second nature by now, though it still carried an edge of excitement. The quiet hum of the city and the faint buzz of neon lights guided you to her door, where you knocked three times—the code you’d both settled on.

The door opened with no preamble, and there stood Sevika, framed by the dim light spilling out from her apartment. The sight of her stopped you dead in your tracks.

Her cigarette hung loosely between her lips as she fiddled with her mechanical arm, muttering something under her breath. The dark brown tank top she wore stretched tight over her chest, highlighting the sculpted curve of her shoulders, while her black boxers sat dangerously low on her hips. The disheveled look was almost unfairly attractive, and it left you feeling momentarily speechless.

Her sharp eyes flicked up to meet yours, and a small, knowing smirk tugged at the corner of her mouth. “You gonna stand there all night or come in?”

You slipped inside quickly, your pulse already quickening. She moved to her couch and collapsed into it like she owned the world, legs spread wide, exuding an effortless dominance that made your skin tingle.

Without missing a beat, you crossed the room and climbed onto her lap, settling yourself like you’d been invited—even though you hadn’t been. You plucked the cigarette from her lips and took a long drag, locking eyes with her as you exhaled.

“You know,” she drawled, her tone low and teasing, “you could always ask before you take.”

“And what’s the fun in that?” you shot back, a playful grin spreading across your lips.

Her eyes narrowed slightly, but the corner of her mouth twitched upward. “Keep pushing, sweetheart,” she murmured, her voice a velvet threat.

Before you could quip back, she had you pinned to the couch, her large hand encircling your throat—not squeezing, just enough to make your breath hitch. Her lips crashed into yours, the kiss deep and consuming, like she was claiming you all over again.

Her knee pressed up between your thighs, and the pressure was just enough to pull a shameless moan from you. The sound made her grin, slow and wicked.

“Ready to give up this silly little game you insist on playing?” she asked, her voice husky as her lips trailed down your neck, leaving a trail of heat in their wake.

The reminder of your bet jolted you out of your haze, and you pushed against her shoulders, sitting up dramatically. “You’re already trying to sabotage me!” you accused, narrowing your eyes at her.

“And it almost worked,” she said, her grin unfazed. “C’mon, sweetheart. Give it up. You know you can’t say no to me.”

You scoffed, your gaze darting to the table beside you where her screwdriver lay. With a smirk, you snatched it up and held it out to her. “Give me that.”

Her brow arched, curiosity flickering in her eyes.

“Well,” you continued, shrugging nonchalantly, “since you’re paying for my time, I might as well make myself useful. You looked frustrated when I showed up.”

Her confusion melted into reluctant amusement as she took the screwdriver. “You offering to fix my arm now?”

“Depends,” you said, gesturing for her to sit back down. “Which screw were you trying to tighten?”

She hesitated for a moment before sitting down and explaining the issue. You listened intently, nodding along and offering the occasional suggestion, though you weren’t exactly an expert.

The rest of the evening was spent sifting through her pile of spare parts, sharing drinks, and laughing over failed attempts to jury-rig solutions. At one point, you glanced up from the mess to find her watching you—not with her usual smugness, but something softer, quieter. The look vanished as quickly as it came, leaving you questioning if you’d imagined it.

By week two, though, things got harder—literally and figuratively. Your body betrayed you at every turn, and the tension was maddening. It left you feeling like a pent-up teenager, desperate and all too aware of every brush of fabric, every suggestive glance. But if Sevika thought you’d break first, she had another thing coming.

Which brought you to Friday night at The Last Drop. Sevika’s routine was as predictable as clockwork—every Friday, she’d be at her usual table, gambling and sipping whiskey like she didn’t have a care in the world. It was the perfect opportunity to test her resolve.

You stood in front of the mirror, applying the last swipe of lip gloss and admiring your handiwork. The black leather skirt clung to your hips, catching the faint glow of the moonlight, and your low-cut top highlighted just enough cleavage to make Sevika’s attention inevitable. You smoothed your hair, gave yourself one last smirk, and headed out.

The bouncer at The Last Drop barely looked up before nodding in the direction of Sevika’s table. You spotted her immediately, lounging like a queen among her subjects. Her cigar glowed faintly in the low light, and the subtle curve of her smirk as she leaned back in her chair set your nerves buzzing.

You approached with deliberate confidence, the click of your heels drawing eyes as you stopped beside her. “Is that seat taken?” you asked, motioning to her lap.

The table fell silent, the men and women around Sevika staring openly, their gazes lingering far too long for your liking. Sevika, however, barely glanced at you before leaning back and spreading her legs slightly in invitation.

You lowered yourself onto her lap, adjusting your skirt just enough to let her feel the curve of your hips against her. Her hand settled on your thigh, a possessive touch that sent shivers through you.

She leaned in, her breath brushing the shell of your ear as she whispered, “It’s cute that you thought dressing like a slut would make me jealous. But here’s the thing—they all know you’re my slut. What’s there to be jealous about when they can only dream?”

Her low chuckle rumbled through you as she tossed some chips onto the table, her hand sliding higher on your thigh.

The tension was thick enough to cut with a knife, but you weren’t backing down—not yet.

Game on.

The game at the table picked up, the noise growing louder with every passing round. You barely paid attention, more focused on Sevika's drink getting dangerously low. Without waiting for her to ask, you hopped up to grab her another. Her hand delivered a quick, casual pat to your ass as you walked away, and you couldn’t help the sly grin that spread across your face.

At the bar, you scanned the crowd for a target. Spiked-hair guy slumped over near a puddle of vomit? Nope. A buzzcut woman giving you that look from the middle of the room? Way too easy. Then, your gaze landed on her: a loudmouth with an undercut and no clue about the pecking order here. Jackpot.

You sidled up to the bar, ignoring her completely at first. Tapping your empty glass, you got the bartender’s attention, who already knew what to pour: whiskey for Sevika. Only then did you glance her way.

“Looks like you’re having a hell of a time over here,” you said, flashing a playful smile.

She turned toward you, the conversation with her friend forgotten. Her eyes swept over you with a low whistle. “And I think I’m about to have an even better one,” she smirked.

Right where you wanted her. But she needed to work a little harder for it.

As she started asking about you, you casually mentioned the brothel. Her eyes lit up like it was her birthday.

“You know,” you said, tilting your head coyly, “I do give discounts to clients who know how to show me a good time.”

“Oh, yeah?” she grinned, leaning closer. “Convenient, since I’ve got some cash burning a hole in my pocket.” Her hand found the back of your thigh, pulling you in just enough to make the air between you crackle.

You felt Sevika’s gaze burning into your back from across the room, but you didn’t turn around. Instead, you leaned into the stranger’s touch, tapping the muscles of her arm teasingly.

“I think I’d like a preview of what the rest of my night could look like,” she said, her voice dropping as she tapped your chin up with her finger.

“Oh, yeah?” you whispered, your lips inches from hers. “Why don’t you show me what I’m working with?”

Just as she started to lean in, you barely had time to process the hand on your thigh disappearing. A blur of movement later, the stranger hit the floor, a guttural thud snapping the air between you.

Sevika stood over her, gripping the fabric of her shirt with one hand.

“I’ll give you five seconds to get the fuck out of my bar,” Sevika growled, her voice low and razor-sharp. “Before I break every disgusting finger that touched my girl.”

Your eyes widened as the stranger stammered something snarky, but it didn’t matter. Sevika’s fist connected with her nose before she could finish. Blood sprayed, and the woman crumpled onto the ground.

Sevika turned to you, her jaw tight, her eyes blazing.

“Office. Now.”

Before you could respond, she grabbed your hand, dragging you toward the back. The door slammed shut behind you, leaving you alone with the familiar tension crackling between you like a storm about to break.

You leaned back against Silco’s old desk, arms crossed. “Well, someone’s jealous.”

Her glare could’ve melted steel. “Jealous?” she barked, stalking toward you. “It’s one thing to show up dressed like that, begging for attention. But you were practically dry-humping her in front of everyone.”

You shrugged, biting back a grin. “Isn’t that my job? Making sure potential clients are… interested in what they see?”

Her growl reverberated through the room as she closed the distance between you. “Yeah, well, from now on, I’m your only client that matters.”

Your smirk widened. “Sevika, are you trying to make us exclusive?”

She chuckled, a low, dangerous sound. “This isn’t about some stupid game. You’ve been trying to drive me insane since day one, and guess what? You did it. Congratulations. Now I’m gonna make you regret it.”

“Funny,” you teased, hopping up onto the desk and letting your knees fall open just enough. “Seems like everything’s going exactly according to plan.”

Her jaw clenched, and for a moment, she just stared at you. Then, with an exasperated chuckle, she stepped between your legs, her hands landing on your hips.

“I knew you’d be the death of me,” she muttered, before grabbing your neck and crashing her lips into yours.

Every ounce of frustration and tension boiled over in that kiss, her grip firm and unrelenting as if to remind you exactly who was in charge now. And this time, you didn’t argue.

You had made out with Sevika plenty of times before. But as her tongue slid into your mouth this time, it was different. There was no pretense, no playful back-and-forth teasing. This wasn’t just a hookup, and you weren’t just some random conquest.

She wasn’t kissing a prostitute. She was staking a claim.

A moan escaped your lips as she pushed you back against the desk, the edge digging into your lower back as her frame towered over you. You gasped when she climbed on top of you, her weight a deliberate reminder of how much control she had.

Her lips trailed from your jaw to your neck, biting down hard enough to leave marks that you knew you’d see tomorrow. “I think I’ll start by ruining this little outfit,” she growled, her voice dark and rich. “Since you’re so set on showing the Undercity what’s mine, I’ll make it easier for you.”

Her metal hand traced up your waist, the cold edge of her finger sending shivers down your spine. You barely had time to process her next move before she dragged it sharply upward, slicing clean through your top like it was nothing.

You inhaled sharply as the fabric fell away, leaving you exposed. Sevika sat back for a moment, her eyes raking over you with a hunger that sent heat pooling low in your stomach.

“Much better,” she muttered, her lips quirking into a wicked smirk as she leaned in, her nose brushing against yours. “But you’re not done paying for that little stunt at the bar, sweetheart.”

Her hand cupped your jaw, forcing you to meet her gaze. “You wanna play games?” she teased, her thumb brushing over your bottom lip. “Fine. I’ll play. But we both know how this ends.”

“Do we?” you shot back, your voice breathy but still defiant. “Seems to me like you’re the one losing your cool.”

That earned you a sharp laugh, her teeth flashing as her smirk widened. “Keep talking,” she said, her voice low. “Let’s see how long you last before you’re begging me to stop.”

You opened your mouth to make a smart ass comment  but it was already to late as she started pinching one of your nipples with her real hand. 

‘Look at these already stiff. You really are a fucking whore.” Sevika said aggresily spitting on your chest before leaning down and licking it to spead over your left nipple. 

You started moaning as she swirlled her tongue and lightly bit at your nipple as your hands shot to her hair. She made sure to leave a few hickeys before quickly tearing through your mini skirt as well quickly dropping to her knees and pulling you to the edge of the desk. 

You groaned, your head tipping back as Sevika pinned your thighs nearly flat against your shoulders. The contrast was maddening—her metal hand icy against your left thigh, the sharp edges biting just enough to tease, while the warmth of her calloused fingers on your right thigh sent sparks shooting through your body.

"Look at you," she murmured, her voice low and taunting as her eyes roamed over you. "Can’t decide if you like it rough or soft, huh? Guess I’ll just give you both."

Her grip tightened, the cold metal sending a shiver up your spine as she leaned down, her breath ghosting over your neck. The deliberate pressure of her hands, one hard and unyielding, the other impossibly warm and strong, had you arching into her without thinking.

“Keep making noises like that, and I might just keep you pinned like this all night,” she teased, her lips brushing against your ear. “Bet you’d love that, wouldn’t you?”

You bit your lip, trying to suppress the needy whimper threatening to spill out. But Sevika caught it, her smirk practically audible as she shifted her weight, her metal fingers teasing the sensitive skin of your inner thigh.

“Thought so,” she growled, leaning in to press a hot, open-mouthed kiss to the hollow of your throat.

You loved when Sevika treated you like a ragdoll with no other purpose than to her pretty little fucktoy and cum. And you were already close to cumming thirty seconds after her tongue started dancing across your clit. The sound of Sevika slurping up all of your juices made you go wild. 

You felt her hand on your right thigh move to your entrance groaning at the feeling of her two fingers stretching you out. 

“Cant believe this pussy is so greedy sucking my fingers in. It’s almost like you get off of me degrading you huh” Sevika moaned continuing her assault on your clit with her tounge.

“Well I’ll make it worth your wild hm? Cum on my fucking fingers like the greedy slut you are.” Sevika engouraged instantly sending you over the edge as your legs began to shake as you called out Sevikas name. 

You barley had time to cathcn your breath before Sevika told you to stand up and turn around to brace yourself against the desk. 

You heard her undoing her pants and feeling something kind of warm and hard against your entrance.

“Thought I would wear this think out to see if it was comfortable enough to bring over to the brothel. Didnt know it would come in handy so soon.” She said pressing into you as the object slid inside of you wour jaw falling slack from the sensation. 

‘W-what is that- oh my god.” You said gripping the desk.

“Saw some women talking about this thing when I was up in Piltover running some collections. I think they called it a strap? Figures your sloppy pussy would take it in one go.” Sevika said starting to roll her hips so the strap started moving in and out of you. 

You had never felt something so good your eyes rolling back as she picked up the speed. 

She gripped your hair with one hand as she moved her knee between yours using her muscular thigh to push you bent leg up on the desk. Increasing her speed even more. 

It felt so fucking good you didnt even have control of what was flying out of your mouth just expletives and Sevikas name.

As the slapping sounds began to echo through the room you felt yourself getting close again As Sevikas grunts sounded like a melody against your ears. 

“ Go ahead screm it louder baby. Let everyone in the bar- no everyone in the lanes know who this pussy belongs to.” She grunted bringing her hand down on your ass with a hard slap as she continued ramming into you. 

“Fuck it’s all yours Sev! S-stresching me out so good.” You slurred feeling your orgasm washing over your. You thought she would slow her pace but as your orgasm began to calm Sevika kept punding into you.

You felt your eyes roll back getting light headed from the pressure. A new feeling building in your stomach. 

“I know you have more in you hm? Show daddy how well you can squirt all over my strap. She said smacking your ass again. 

You shrieked her name cursing her out as you felt a sudden rush followed by a feeling of wetness shooting all over your leg as Sevika groaned at how well you were taking it. 

Sevika finally slowed her pace, her movements deliberate and torturous as she eased out of you. The rush of sensation left you dizzy, your body slack, and your legs threatening to give out entirely. You stumbled forward, but Sevika was quick, catching you effortlessly.

She chuckled low in her throat, the sound vibrating through you as she scooped you up into her arms like you weighed nothing. Carrying you to the worn couch in the corner of the room, she settled down with you perched in her lap, your body still trembling in the aftershocks.

“You’re such an asshole,” you muttered, your voice breathy and ragged. You barely had the energy to lift your head, but the accusation carried all the heat you could muster. “First, you tell the whole damn bar I’m your girl, then you ruin my favorite skirt, and then you fuck me like that?”

Sevika smirked, her hand idly tracing patterns along your thigh. “Mm, don’t forget—I also carried your pretty ass over here.”

“Not the point,” you shot back, though the warmth in her touch had your indignation quickly waning.

Her smirk deepened, dark eyes glinting with mischief. “I think you’re forgetting something,” she murmured, her voice thick with self-satisfaction.

You tilted your head, confused and still trying to regain full control of your brain. “What?”

Her grin was almost feral as she leaned in close, her lips brushing the shell of your ear.

“I won your stupid game.”

The realization hit you like a slap. “Oh, hell no—”

“Uh-uh,” she interrupted, cutting off your protests with a possessive kiss that left you breathless all over again. When she finally pulled back, her smug expression had you torn between wanting to strangle her and kiss her again.

“Face it,” Sevika said, her tone dripping with smug satisfaction as her hand trailed lazily up your spine. “You can’t resist me. You never could.”

You opened your mouth to retort, but the smug arch of her brow and the way her fingers tightened just enough on your waist shut you up fast. Damn her for being right.

Sevika’s laugh rumbled through her chest as she leaned back, utterly victorious. “That’s what I thought,” she said, her voice teasing as she rested her head against the back of the couch. “Guess that makes me the reigning champion, huh?”

You huffed, your pride smarting, but the way her arms tightened around you, grounding and comforting, made it impossible to stay mad.

“Fine,” you grumbled, resting your head against her chest. “But next time, I’m taking home the crown.”

“We’ll see, sweetheart,” Sevika murmured, pressing a lazy kiss to your temple. “We’ll see.”

[kittyhui]

woozi baby fever + texts

woozi x afab! reader

- jihoon never thought he would have baby fever

- tbh he didnt even think he wanted kids; being so busy with work anyways

- he definitely changed after meeting you though

- after dating for more than 6 months, he’ll be thinking about marriage and children hopeless romantic ugh

- after marriage or a few years of dating, his baby fever goes through the roof

- if he sees you with a baby or a small child, he will practically keel over with the thought of you with his child

- he acts like he hates children but he stays up at night thinking about you pregnant with his baby

- He feels insane when he makes lullabies instead of demos for his group. He has a folder named ‘for FC’ (for future child) full of songs for his non existent baby and he avoids any questions from his members and you when asked who FC is.

- Whenever he sees dad’s with their children he dies inside. He imagines that being him and him taking his baby out for a walk and taking them to his studio, playing them music

- one day, he hit his breaking point. He was hanging out with seungcheol and hoshi and they were talking about their babies (kkuma and latte LMAO) and how they were thinking of buying them cute winter doggy jackets and sweaters. they showed him picture after picture of clothes for their ‘babies’, sending his mind into overdrive. He wanted a baby. He wanted to buy his baby cute clothes and spoil them the way he spoils you. He didn’t just want it. He needed it.

- The moment he came home you could tell something was up. Sometimes jihoon would be a bit out of it, usually because of work and lyrics. This was different though. He was clinging to you unusually, his head resting on your stomach and his hands gripping your waist soft but firmly, not wanting to hurt you yet not wanting to let you go. He refused to talk whenever you asked what was wrong and would just blush deeper and deeper

- “Jihoon.” You finally say, tired of him evading your questions. Your stern voice makes him lift him head to look at you. “Is something going on? You’re acting strange today?” you were beyond concerned now as his ears turn a deep red and his eyes look away from yours.

- “I was with cheol and soon earlier…” he trails off nervously, “and I realized that I want a child with you. So badly. I’ve just been thinking about filling you up and I just want you to have my kid so badly. I’d take care of her so well, spoil both of you to death…” he cuts himself off, feeling embarrassed seeing your shocked face.

- “She?” is the first thing you say, smiling at him. jihoon quirks his head to the side confused, “you said, you’d take care of her so well. What if it’s a boy, hoonie?” you giggle at him, before leaning in to kiss jihoon’s cheek.

- “Boy or girl, id take care of them” he looks you in the eyes, “promise”

- You giggle at his seriousness, nodding at him. “Let’s have a baby then, ji” his smile is so wide it hurt, kissing you hard.

- “Thank you, baby. Thank you...”

- Now, after you get pregnant.. he’s actually insane.

- He tried to act calm and collected but if you try and carry anything heavier than your phone, he will carry it for you.

- He calls you every 40 minutes when he has schedules, asking you if he needs to come home early or if you need anything

- He bought a crib, walker, and a changing board for his studio as well as for your home. He spares no expense

- The moment you start showing, he will have his head on your stomach 24/7.

- “I felt them kick!” “Hoonie, I’m only 13 weeks, I don’t think the baby’s kicking” he doesn’t believe you btw

- Now, he will finally show you his ‘for FC’ folder, playing the songs in his studio for you and the baby to listen to

- He is always worried once you get close to your due date, convincing his company to put him on hiatus and work from home producing songs until the baby is born.

- “I’ll be fine, jihoon. The guys need you” “pretty, you are going to have a baby any minute now. They understand that you need me more.”

a/n: this is so funny cuz i actually dont want kids but woozi baby fever is so real argue with a wall

[platonicyanderereverie]

Can you write yan Childe, Capitano and Arle and a teen reader that they have to train because Tsarirsa sees potential in them to be the next harbinger? Tysm if you write this!

Thank you for your request‼️

Platonic yandere Childe,Capitano and Arlecchino with teen reader!

[Warnings!: none]

The tsaritsa herself had acknowledged your potential, potential tyat could fill in one of the empty seats of her soldiers...whether you chose to go along with it or not, you were personally tasked to one of the harbingers for further training.

Childe

Childe would take on the mantle with little to no protest. Honestly, it’s a good turnout for him—he has a sparring partner now! You’re a bit younger than he would like, but in a way, you remind him of his younger self.

He’s more than willing to spend hours trying to get you to be as versatile as possible. Just like him, he insists you know how to use as many weapons and techniques as possible when you’re training.

As time goes on, your spars and training with him become something he looks forward to dearly, so don’t disappoint him. He grows a tad protective, often “helping” you get patched up (in reality, he does all the work while you sit quietly and don’t protest) after duels.

Expect a good amount of little gifts too. He’s not above bragging about you to anyone who will listen—expect his siblings to know all about you before you’ve even met.

"Pretty good! Your form was a bit off near the end, but overall, a good improvement," he chuckles, his gloved hand finding its way to your hair.

"Tonia sent me some pastries. Let’s go enjoy them together, hm? You can’t become a Harbinger if you’re hungry all the time! Come on!"

Your boots dig into the snow as he rapidly drags you off. Even though he’s very upbeat about any improvement you make, he doesn’t seem willing to let go too soon.

---

Capitano

Capitano takes his assignment very seriously. He’s firm and intimidating at first, but the more time you spend with him, the more you realize how patient he can be with you.

Of course, being trained by the number one Harbinger himself comes with heavy expectations. Capitano is meticulous with what and how he teaches you. War tactics are a particular focus, and you often hear him ramble about them during training.

You’re sure to be exhausted by the end of each day, but if the captain deems your performance satisfactory, you’ll receive a grunt of approval.

The captain feels rather strange about the soft, weak spot you eventually carve into his cold, rotting chest. He maintains a firm exterior, but you’ll notice moments when he offers you advice that seems almost... personal.

Though he won’t show it, Capitano takes quiet pride in your progress. In his eyes, you are destined to become a great Harbinger—a worthy servant of the Tsaritsa alongside him. Do not disappoint.

"You did well," he grunts in his deep tone, the sound ringing smoothly in your ears as he gives your shoulder a small squeeze of approval.

"If you’re still feeling restless... you’re welcome to take a walk with me."

"Your improvement has been satisfactory. At this pace, you’ll serve the Tsaritsa well," he hums as you trail behind him. Despite your legs feeling numb from the cold air biting at your cheeks, you wonder if you’ll ever not feel overwhelmed by his immense presence.

---

Arlecchino

Arlecchino is arguably the most experienced in training someone for the position of Harbinger, given her work with Lyney in preparing him for the role of head of the House of the Hearth.

That being said, your initial interactions with her feel purely transactional. Her training covers a wide range of skills, and you’ll often be deployed on missions alongside other members of the Hearth.

Her evaluations are based on the results of these missions and the head-to-head fights she has with you, during which she carefully analyzes how you implement the tactics she has taught.

Since you’re training to work alongside her, expect words of caution and occasionally thinly veiled complaints about her colleagues.

She’ll be oddly pleased when you bond with the children of the Hearth, as communication and trust are key to her.

"Good. You were quick to dodge that. But remember, in a real fight, there will be no moments for hesitation," she says simply, her heels clicking against the ground as she approaches you.

"As a treat, how about you go aid Lyney and Lynette on a mission? It’s a simple one, really, and you can have the rest of the day to yourself afterward," she says, pausing beside you. Her fingers briefly tap your shoulder as she waits for your response.

[ssajudithh]

ambush pt.2

aaron hotchner x reader

summary : in which both you and aaron reflect on the true nature of your relationship

pt.1

The case had been closed off quite easily and Aaron had finished the last bit of paperwork he needed to do on the jet. He was free to go home, or to come to you. He was still waiting for an answer to the text he had sent half an hour ago. He stayed in his office while the team prepared to leave. 

Someone knocked on a door and waited a few seconds before coming in. Derek was looking at Hotch expectedly. 

-Team’s going to the local bar, you coming?

-Not tonight, sorry

-Why not? I thought you finished your paperwork 

-I did 

-Ohhh, i get it 

Morgan looked at him with a smirk 

-You got a little date tonight huh?

-i don't have a-

He was interrupted by a phone call. Aaron practically jumped on his phone which earned another smirk from Morgan. He pointed to the door and Derek left, leaving him alone in his office. 

-Hello?

-Aaron, you got some explaining to do, don’t you think 

Fuck, Hailey. He was so set on seeing you that he had forgotten about your little encounter

-Listen, i didn't know you were coming over 

-I don't care about that! Why are you bringing strange women into the house where my son lives?!

-She’s not a strange woman Hailey, she's a friend of mine and i would like for you to respect that

-Your friend right… Guess our marriage was quickly forgotten.

-Its been two years Hailey, and don't forget who actually put this marriage aside between us two

He hung up after that, not wanting to talk about Hailey’s infidelity again. As much as it didn't bother him anymore, watching his ex-wife act all innocent and mighty always put him in a bad mood. Looking at his phone, he saw that you had finally responded by asking him to get to your apartment as soon as possible.

He hurried over and was greeted by the sight of you in his shirt, which you looked absolutely adorable in, he thought. Aaron himself was surprised by his thought. He didn't find you simply attractive anymore, he thought you were..adorable? He pushed his worries aside and got comfortable on your couch.

You watched remove his suit and tie while biting your lips. The events of the last night you had spent together seemed so long ago and you had missed him a lot. Your eyes trailed back to his face that was looking at you expectantly, waiting for an answer.

-Sorry what?

Aaron chuckled, a smug look appearing on his face

-I asked you if you were okay after your interaction with Hailey

‘’Hailey’’..? That must be his ex-wife’s name then. You groaned internally. You wanted to jump on him and get to business not to talk about the very awkward encounter you had a few days ago.

-It wasn't anything bad, just a bit awkward

-Are you sure?

His eyebrows were frowning and he looked seriously worried. Was he that ashamed and scared by you interacting with his personal life?

-Don't worry, I didn't do anything to bother Hailey

Aaron looked at her confused

-I don't think you did anything, I’m more worried about what she could have done to you

God, he really had to stop saying things like that. You had to change the subject or he was really going to bring your hopes up. Hopes about what though? It's not like you wanted anything more with him…you had just grown a bit attached. Anyone would after spending so much time with someone right?

-Jack was there, he’s so cute

-Yeah, he is

 The soft look in Aaron’s eyes made him even more attractive, and you practically jumped on him not wanting to wait any longer. He kissed you back, his hands trailing lower and lower on your body. It wasn't long after that both your clothes ended up on the floor and you were knocked out on him after many rounds.

Aaron looked at you, looking so peaceful in your sleep, and thought about what you told him earlier. 

 You had no problem dealing with Hailey, you thought Jack was cute, you didn't even think there was a problem with meeting his family. What was he so afraid about? He felt really dumb now. You were always so caring and happy to be around him. Why would you ever judge him or be bothered by his presence? For once, Aaron thought that maybe you were also considering something more with him. 

You felt Aaron’s eyes on you as you pretended to sleep. You felt him gently brushing your hair and you could almost hear the wheels turning in his head

-What are you thinking about handsome?

Well, that definitely startled Aaron who had now a split second to decide between acting like nothing was wrong or confessing his growing affection for you.

-Im thinking about us

-Us?

-Listen, I'm forty years old. At this age, spending so much time with a woman, even if it's just casual, I'm bound to want something more you know? I left casual relationships behind me years ago, honestly. 

You sat up quickly, looking at him with wide eyes

-What do you mean by something more?

-I mean a relationship

He looked anxious, which was a funny look on his face. Aaron Hotchner who always had the upper, literally always, seemed scared of you?

-Wait really?!

-Yes?

-But I thought you didn't want me to be part of your life. And you always seemed so ashamed of me. Am I not too immature for you? You have a kid also you know, what if he doesn't like me. I didn't exactly leave a good imp-

Your rambling was cut off by Aaron’s loud chuckling

-You're laughing at me? Aaron this is serious, it's like the biggest revelation ever 

-You thought I was ashamed of you?

-Yes…?

-Sweetheart, why would I be ashamed? I have the luck to sleep with a stunning smart woman like you. That’s more of a win for an old man like me.

You were absolutely baffled. All this time you spent putting yourself down because Aaron was probably ashamed of you was completely useless. If anything, this man looked down bad for you right now. 

-So we're together? Like more than casual together?

-I told you sweetheart i'm too old for casual

You looked at him with a wide smile before leaning down and snuggling in his chest. You sighed contently at the feeling of his hands caressing your back bare

-Oh, I'm gonna be coming over all the time now Aaron, you're not ready.

-Can't wait honey

[eternallyordinary]

“He Belongs to You” - Part 8

⁺˚⋆｡°✩₊✩°｡⋆˚⁺ ˚ ༘ ⁺˚⋆｡°✩₊✩°｡⋆˚⁺ ˚ ༘ ⁺˚⋆｡°✩₊✩°｡⋆˚⁺ ˚ ༘ ⁺˚⋆｡

Series Masterlist<3

Summary: Homelander is reminded that, while you may be a supe, you are more than human.

Warnings: violence, graphic gore, language, knife, gun, death, blood, possessive nature, age gap relationship, harassment (if i forgot anything pls lmk <3)

*:・ﾟ✧*:・ﾟ✧✧・ﾟ: *✧・ﾟ:* ˚₊· *:・ﾟ✧*:・ﾟ✧✧・ﾟ:

The night passes in a blur of heat and tangled limbs.

Whispered promises.

Hands that roam, but never take too much.

He holds you tighter than he should, breathes you in like he’s afraid you’ll disappear.

And maybe, he is afraid.

Maybe he knows deep down that none of this is stable.

That this thing between you two is built on something too intense, too dangerous.

“Fuck it,” he says to himself.

He decides he won’t leave you a single night. The mere thought of someone hurting you makes him violent.

It makes him wish he would’ve restrained himself and not made any enemies.

It would’ve been worth it, just to know you were safe.

—

When you wake, it’s still dark. You find yourself listening to the steady rhythm of his breathing, his body molded to yours.

Your thoughts begin to trail off…

Not too long ago, he was just a baby. A boy.

He was made by selfish white men who wanted to live out there fantasies through him.

Super strength, super this, super that.

You wonder if he ever had someone to hold him close, someone to tell him it was going to be okay.

That thought makes you sad, because you don’t think so.

Homelander doesn’t sleep much. But tonight, he must have, because when you shift slightly, his grip tightens instinctively.

“Where do you think you’re going?” His voice is thick with sleep, but there’s a warning underneath it.

You exhale softly, pressing back against him. “Nowhere. Just stretching.”

His nose nuzzles against your shoulder, his lips brushing over your skin. He doesn’t say anything else.

Just holds you there, like keeping you still will somehow keep you his.

But morning comes too quickly. And the world outside doesn’t stop for moments like these.

—

The city is loud.

Too loud.

The streets hum with life, pedestrians moving in waves.

Cars honking impatiently as Homelander walks beside you.

His presence effortlessly commanding, even when he’s silent.

It’s strange, being out in public like this.

You’re still adjusting to the reality of your new life.

People recognizing you, eyes lingering too long, whispers of your name on strangers’ lips.

But with him? People don’t just stare. They cower.

Every step he takes is heavy with expectation.

Every movement reminding them of what he is, what he’s capable of.

And yet, the only person he’s truly focused on?

You.

“Are we seriously just walking down the street like normal people?” you ask, half-joking, half-incredulous.

Homelander smirks, adjusting the gloves on his hands. “Normal, huh? Didn’t realize you were still under that illusion.”

You roll your eyes. “You know what I mean.”

His gaze flickers, studying your face before softening—just slightly.

“I told you, my love. You wanted to be in The Seven. That means public appearances. And now,” he hums, almost smug, “people get to see exactly who you belong to.”

You don’t dignify that with a response, instead choosing to glance at the crowds forming on the sidewalks.

Some brave enough to wave, others too nervous to do anything but gawk.

Everything feels… normal.

For a moment, at least.

And then—chaos.

Gunfire erupts.

Screams split the air.

The street explodes into panic, people diving for cover, glass shattering, bodies hitting the pavement.

Your pulse spikes, instincts kicking in as you scan for the source.

There—across the street, standing on top of a parked car, is a man in all black. Military gear. A rifle raised.

Your body reacts before your mind catches up.

You shove past the scrambling crowd, already moving.

“Hey—!” Homelander’s voice is sharp, but he doesn’t stop you.

Because you’re already sprinting.

The gunman fires, a rapid, deafening burst of bullets.

You raise a hand, catching the ones meant for the civilians behind you.

The force stings, the impact vibrating through your arm. But the bullets flatten harmlessly against your skin before falling to the ground.

You hear Homelander straighten up behind you, his boots slamming into the pavement.

“Cute,” he mutters, voice tight with annoyance. “But you could’ve let me handle it.”

You don’t respond. You’re already moving again.

The shooter is reloading.

This is your chance.

You launch forward, closing the distance—

Then—

Pain.

A gunshot echoes.

A direct hit to your chest.

You stumble, your heart racing.

It’s a strange sensation. Not pain, exactly. More like a dull, burning impact.

The force knocks you back a step, and for a split second, you forget you’re not human.

You almost forget this won’t kill you.

And for Homelander?

Pain or no pain. Human or supe. Dead or not. It doesn’t matter.

He sees red.

The moment you stagger, his entire body stiffens.

And then—

Boom.

The shooter doesn’t get another second to react.

Homelander has already sealed his fate.

The force of his impact alone shatters the car beneath them.

The gunman doesn’t even have time to scream before Homelander grabs him by the throat, lifting him high into the air.

You regain your footing just in time to see it happen.

The shooter—struggling, choking, clawing at the iron grip around his neck.

Homelander’s face is unreadable.

Too…. calm.

His blue eyes burn with something terrible, something borderline euphoric.

“You think you can fucking touch her?”

The gunman gurgles, his face turning red, then purple.

“Think you can just shoot at her and walk away?” Homelander tilts his head, almost curious.

And then—he tightens his grip.

The man’s windpipe collapses.

His body twitches, then goes limp.

But that’s not enough.

It’s never enough.

Homelander tears his head from his shoulders like he’s pulling apart a piece of paper.

Blood sprays in every direction, coating the pavement.

Broken glass.

The screaming onlookers.

The headless corpse slumps to the ground.

Silence.

For a moment, pure silence.

And then—

A scream.

Not from the shooter.

Not from you.

From a civilian.

A woman—caught in the crossfire.

Her chest torn open, her body convulsing.

You freeze.

No.

No. No, no, no.

Homelander turns, his lips parting slightly as he takes in the scene.

The collateral damage.

The life he just ended without a second thought.

And guess what? He doesn’t care.

But he sees the look on your face.

The horror.

The way your eyes flicker between him, the body, the blood.

The way your breathing quickens.

Not from fear, but from disgust.

His stomach twists.

And for the first time in his entire life, he wants to take it back.

“Baby,” he starts, stepping toward you, voice softer now, pleading. “She was—”

“An innocent person.” Your voice is quiet. Sharp.

He stops. Brows furrowing. He doesn’t understand. How could he?

You stare at him, at the carnage he’s left behind, at the people still crying, shaking, covered in blood.

And it hits you, all at once.

He didn’t do this for them.

He did it for you.

His priority wasn’t saving anyone.

It was avenging you.

And in doing so, he killed someone who didn’t deserve it.

This is your fault.

So you do the only thing you can— you turn away.

Homelander watches you, something unreadable flashing in his expression.

He’s never cared about collateral damage… but you do.

And that?

That’s a problem.

—

Later

The waiting room at Bellevue Hospital is a blur of sterile white walls and muted voices.

You sit, your leg bouncing anxiously, your phone clutched too tightly in your palm.

The media’s response is already mixed.

Some call Homelander a hero, others say he went too far.

Some commend your bravery.

You want to tell yourself it was staged.

Some sort of Vought initiation, maybe? But deep down, you know better.

The doctors move quickly. You overhear hushed voices confirming what you already feared.

Mrs. Lieberman didn’t make it.

You bow your head, inhaling sharply.

“Miss?”

An ER doctor stands before you, expression unreadable. “They requested to see you.”

Your stomach tightens.

They?

The walk down the hospital hallway feels longer than it should.

The rhythmic beeping of machines, the low hum of life-and-death conversations.

You enter the room cautiously.

A man stands by the hospital bed, flanked by two young adults.

These must be his children.

Her children.

Fuck.

You feel so fucking awful.

“I—I’m sorry for your loss,” you manage, your voice small.

But before you can say anything else, the man lunges.

The knife slices into your neck.

You choke, blood spurting across the sterile linoleum floor.

“Dad!” A girl screams, trying to pull him back.

The man kneels beside you as you grab at your throat, choking. His voice shakes with fury.

“I prayed for a world without freaks like you,” he spits.

“But today I learned,”—he twists the knife in deeper—

“God isn’t real.”

The room erupts into chaos.

His son tries to restrain him, the daughter sobbing.

You try to rise, the pain sharp, hot—when suddenly—

Whoosh.

Your patriotic knight in bloodstained armor.

Even with your own blood leaking from your throat, you still roll your eyes.

Homelander doesn’t hesitate. Doesn’t give a speech.

He simply lasers the man in half.

The kids scream.

“Self-defense,” Homelander shrugs. “I’ll have my boss give you a call.”

Then, he scoops you into his arms like it’s nothing. Like he didn’t just add another body to his list.

“Can I get a fucking doctor in here?” he barks, striding out of the room.

Because even though you’ll survive—

He still can’t stand the sight of your blood.

—

You come back to consciousness slowly, the world creeping in piece by piece.

The first thing you notice is the sterile smell. That unmistakable mix of disinfectant and something artificial, something too clean.

The second is the beeping.

A slow, steady rhythm.

Your heartbeat.

And then—the weight.

A heavy presence beside you.

Warmth radiating, tension coiled so tightly it vibrates through the air like static before a storm.

Homelander.

You don’t open your eyes right away.

Instead, you let yourself drift in the quiet, piecing together the scattered fragments of memory.

The shooting.

The blood.

The hospital.

The knife.

Your fingers twitch instinctively at your throat.

Bandages.

The skin beneath them aches, healing but sore.

You remember the pain—sharp, hot, and immediate.

You remember choking on your own blood, gasping for air as that man—her husband—pushed the blade deeper, cursing your existence as if your life was the one that needed to be snuffed out.

You should be dead.

If you were human, you would be.

You shift slightly, and that’s when he moves.

The weight beside you lifts, subtle but undeniable. Then—a hand.

A gloved, impossibly strong hand pressing gently against your forearm.

“Hey.”

You finally open your eyes.

He looks… wrong.

Not in the usual, unstable way.

Not in the way he looks when he’s suppressing something violent, when his smile is stretched a little too thin, when his grip lingers just a little too long.

This is different.

His cape is gone. His gloves are still on, but his suit looks wrinkled, like he’s been sitting in that chair all night.

His hair—perfectly styled, always calculated—is mussed.

He looks like he’s been running his hands through it, like he’s been pacing, like he’s been thinking too much.

You swallow, wincing slightly. He notices.

Immediately, his fingers ghost up to your throat, barely brushing against the bandages.

His breath hitches so quietly that if you weren’t paying attention, you would’ve missed it.

“What—” your voice comes out hoarse, and he visibly tenses.

You clear your throat. “What happened?”

His brows knit together like he hates that you have to ask.

Like the fact that you don’t remember everything makes him sick.

“You died in my arms.”

You blink, the weight of his words pressing into your chest.

“That’s dramatic,” you croak.

Homelander doesn’t smile. Doesn’t move.

“You weren’t breathing,” he grits out. “You bled all over me. You—”

He stops himself, sucking in a sharp breath, as if forcing his own body to obey his restraint.

You can see it—the barely contained storm brewing behind his eyes. The self-destruction he keeps locked behind clenched teeth.

You close your eyes for a second, exhaling through your nose.

“I was never going to die.”

Wrong thing to say.

“That’s not the fucking point!” His voice breaks, just for a second, before he catches himself.

He inhales deeply through his nose, composing himself, forcing the frustration down before it consumes him.

“You weren’t scared. You weren’t worried. But I was.”

You blink. “You—”

“You don’t get it,” he cuts in, voice eerily quiet now, too controlled.

“You don’t fucking get it.”

He pushes back from the chair abruptly, standing like he needs the space, like he needs distance from you.

He paces, just like he did in your apartment. Just like he did the last time he tried to punish you.

“You think because you can’t die that it doesn’t matter. That you can just throw yourself into danger, into whatever stupid fucking situation you want, and I’ll just—just watch?”

His hands flex at his sides, his body vibrating with tension.

“That I’m just going to sit back and—what? Let it happen? Let you get hurt?”

He laughs, but there’s nothing funny about it.

“You don’t understand what it did to me,” he continues, voice lower now, more dangerous.

“Watching you bleed out in my arms. Knowing I couldn’t do a fucking thing to stop it.”

He stops pacing. He turns to you, eyes dark.

“I kill people all the time,” he says, flat, matter-of-fact. “I rip them apart. I turn them into fucking paste. And I don’t feel anything. It doesn’t matter. It’s not real.” His nostrils flare. “But you—”

He stops.

He swallows, his Adam’s apple bobbing.

“How many times do I have to say it?” he whispers, voice shaking. “You’re real to me.”

The words sit between you, heavy and fragile all at once.

You try to push yourself up, but your body protests. Homelander notices immediately, moving faster than you can register.

“Don’t,” he murmurs, kneeling beside the bed, pressing his hands against your arms, keeping you still. “Just—don’t.”

You stare at him, at the way his grip trembles against your skin, at the way his breathing is uneven.

You should say something.

You should tell him you’re okay.

You’re here, you’re alive.

Unfortunately, you don’t know how to reassure someone like him.

“I should’ve killed him slower,” he mutters suddenly.

Your stomach twists. “Homelander—”

“I should’ve ripped his fucking skin off. Should’ve made him watch while I tore his insides apart.” His grip tightens. “I would’ve. If you weren’t bleeding out in my fucking arms, I would’ve—”

He stops himself, exhaling sharply through his nose, forcing the words down.

“Next time,” he murmurs. “Next time someone hurts you… I won’t make the same mistake.”

There’s no room for argument. Not with that tone.

Your fingers twitch against the blanket, hesitating, before finally—finally—lifting to touch his cheek.

He goes still. Entirely still. Like he’s been frozen in time.

“You scared me, too,” you say softly.

His lashes flicker. His lips part slightly, breath uneven.

“I know you don’t care about collateral damage,” you continue.

“I know that woman didn’t mean anything to you. But she meant something to me.”

Something unreadable flickers across his expression. “Why? You didn’t even know her.”

You exhale. “Because Homelander. She wasn’t supposed to die. Because she had a family. Because she wasn’t supposed to be part of the mess we made.”

His hands lift, sliding up your arms, moving over your shoulders, your neck, until his fingers gently cradle your jaw.

“I don’t give a fuck. You’re supposed to be mine,” he murmurs, his grip featherlight.

“And you almost left me.”

Your chest tightens.

“I didn’t.”

“You could have.”

“But I didn’t. And I won’t.”

His breath shudders. His forehead presses against yours.

“You don’t get to leave.”

His voice is quiet now.

“You don’t.”

You should push back.

Should tell him that’s not his choice to make, that you’re not his possession, that you don’t belong to him.

But you can’t.

Because the way he’s looking at you—the way he’s holding you—it’s like he’s terrified.

Like losing you is the only thing that could ever make him fall apart.

And maybe, just maybe—

That makes you feel seen.

*:・ﾟ✧*:・ﾟ✧✧・ﾟ: *✧・ﾟ:* ˚₊· *:・ﾟ✧*:・ﾟ✧✧・ﾟ: *

[apathywriting]

Hogwarts Legacy Boys

~ how they learned about the Room of Requirement ~ Part One of Five Ominis Gaunt - warnings: fluff :) 2.2k Sebastian Sallow Leander Prewett Amit Thakkar Garreth Weasley

A/N: this is written from a third person point of view as I find it less jarring than first or second. However, writing for an unnamed character and remaining gender neutral outside of a second person POV is giving me whiplash and doesn’t make for a comfortable reading. For this series, I’m using feminine pronouns (She/Her/Hers) for best readability. If anyone has any suggestions or tips on using gender neutral terms outside of first/second person perspective without naming the character or would like me to post another version with masculine pronouns (He/Him/His), please let me know.

-- Currently, requests/asks are open :) --

“That will be another five points from Slytherin, Mr. Gaunt— and might you try to pay more attention to the order of steps listed on the blackboard in the future.” Professor Sharp's dreary voice droned across the potions classroom. Ominis was looking put out once again as his attempt at Draught of Living Death was still falling short of Sharp’s expectations.

From the other side of the room, she glared at Sharp. While Ominis was horribly depressing at potions, she couldn’t help but think it was due in large part to Sharp’s teaching methods— or lack thereof. Sure, writing the steps out on the blackboard was nice compared to focusing on the tiny font size of their textbook, but he hadn’t done anything more or offered any additional knowledge than what was written. She had long believed Sharp saw his post as a tide over until Professor Hecat retired from Defense Against the Dark Arts (with him being an auror and whatnot). She was disappointed that he could not be bothered to give his potions students a half-hearted education in the meantime. And now poor Ominis, who she knew wanted to study to become a healer, was suffering the consequences. The NEWT in Potions was required for entrance into the Healers Institute for Magical Maladies that fed into St. Mungo’s. As the class shuffled out a quarter of an hour later, she had made up her mind to help Ominis, should he accept it, and fell in step with him leaving the potions corridor, following the trail of students heading to lunch. 

“Ominis.” She greeted him, linking her arm with his free one— the other holding his wand loftily, guiding the way forward through throngs of students stopping to chit chat. 

He raised an eyebrow at her, but did not slow his brisk pace. “If you’re here to pile on, I think I’ve gotten enough flak from Sharp today. I can kiss my dreams of being a healer goodbye.” Ominis sounded positively forlorn, morose at his dwindling prospects due to an abysmal potions grade. 

“Oh don’t be such a blunderbuss Ominis, I was going to offer my help. I adore potions and I can’t stand that Sharp is making you detest such a wonderful part of Magic.” She playfully smacked his shoulder. His face was red as he took her arm and dragged her into an alcove, away from the students meandering the great hall. 

“Are you taking the piss?” He asked her seriously, holding his wand between them, and speaking in a low, husky voice. 

“Ominis— you know I’m not. Listen if you’d rather it be someone else, I’m sure you could ask Hobhouse, he’s decent at portions-“

“I wouldn’t trust Hobhouse to pour water out of a boot with the instructions written on the heel.” 

“Well then, looks like you’re stuck with me- and no I’m not taking the piss. Like I said before-“ she wretched her arm from his grip and readjusted her book bag on her shoulder, “I wish potions could be something you come to enjoy rather than suffer through. Would you please let me help?” She waited as he digested her words. After a minute, he sighed dejectedly and then nodded. 

“Thank you. Meet me on the seventh floor of the Astronomy Tower at seven o’clock- the empty corridor before the classroom.” He gave her a strange look but nodded again. She smiled at him one last time before turning on her heel and rejoining her classmates heading toward the great hall. 

—

Seven o’clock came and she found Ominis waiting for her in the seventh floor corridor, leaning wearily up against the wall, his wand in hand, loose at his side. He was looking a little worn, he had ditched his school robes, his sleeves were rolled up, and his tie was a bit loose. She almost tripped, staring at him. 

“Should I be concerned with this rather inauspicious meeting place?” He asked, noticing her presence. 

“It’s only fair I think— you allowed me into your hideout in fifth year. I may finally be ready to share my hideout this year.” She walked past him, straight down the corridor. He moved to follow, but she waved him back. 

“And where, pray tell, in this empty corridor shall I find your hideout?” He had stopped as instructed, still holding his wand loose, but sounding more intrigued than bored now. 

“Patience, Gaunt.” She drawled, turning on her heel and marching back across the corridor. On her third past, a whirring sound could be heard coming from the walls and a door materialised right in front of Ominis. 

“Woah!” He said, dragging his wand across the air in front of him, taking in the full marvel of the wrought iron doors that hadn’t been there a moment ago. “Has this always been here?”

“Yes and no. It’s a bit complicated.” She grinned at him mischievously and held the door open for him to enter. Landing on a cosy alcove, the room beyond them was full of streaming sunlight- the shadows giving Ominis stunning contrast with his wand. A glass pavilion stood across the great room, a conservatory perhaps, or a greenhouse. It was flanked on either side by curling staircases leading up to a second floor and two more glass enclosures. 

“What is this place?” Ominis asked breathlessly, stumbling into the center of the room. 

“This is the room of requirement - well, rather my room of requirement.” She followed a few steps behind him, wringing her hands together nervously. He was the first person she’d ever invited here, into her sanctuary. Art she had collected from all over the countryside hung on the walls, a Persian carpet from a traveling vendor in Keenbridge covered the floor, and a matching set of floral high back chairs with matching poofs she had just acquired from Craigcroft were nestled in the back corner. It felt— well it felt intimate bringing someone else here. 

Seeing the look of confusion on Ominis’ face, she hurried to explain, “The room of requirement presents itself as needed, as required you could say, depending on the seeker's needs. When I first started in fifth year, I needed a place to practice my magic— a place to grow potion ingredients and practice my brews, and when I started rescuing beasts from poachers,” she gestured to the glass enclosures, pointing out a fourth on the opposite wall that Ominis hadn’t noticed before, “the room created safe spaces for them as well.” 

Ominis turned to look at her in awe, “You mean to say these enclosures” he gestured “are vivariums?” 

She grinned at him, “I do have some Valerian growing in the grassland vivarium, which we’ll need to brew the Draught of living death. If you’re okay with a few beasties saying hello, I thought you could join me?” 

Ominis gaped at her. It took him several moments to compose himself back to the usual stoic, Gaunt demeanor before replying “I would quite enjoy that, yes. Lead the way.” She laughed at him, but took his outstretched hand, hiding a creeping blush at his soft touch, and led him up the staircase and into the grasslands. 

Ominis couldn’t quite grasp how the threshold worked between the room and the vivarium with his wand, but he did note the sudden change in temperature– from cosy and warm to a cool autumn breeze brushing against his skin. He could feel the floor change under his shoes. The warm solid wood floors were gone, replaced with worn cobblestones leading down into a plateau. On one side, a ruined castle sat atop a cliff edge, to the other, a babbling brook ran noisily alongside them. His senses were overwhelmed as his wand expanded his view - beyond the immediate clearing to a small cottage raised on a cliffside across the plateau and a pavilion, benches, and a small burning fire pit next to it. Ominis couldn’t help it, he let out a laugh. He couldn’t begin to fathom how big this vivarium must have been, he was picking up an entire mountain range beyond the cottage and castle ruins.

“Oh look! Jupiter would like to say hello.” Her hand squeezed his. His heart did a backflip– he had never let go of her hand. 

“Who’s Jupit– Ah!” From above them, a bright red, towering bird swooped, landing directly in front of Ominis. “Oh my.” he swallowed the lump in his throat. Jupiter was a Phoenix. “Wherever did you find him?” Ominis asked, breathless. She giggled.

“He found me actually. He had been running from a group of poachers for quite some time I think. When I came along he was more than happy to follow me home. I think he was tired of running and knew he would be safe here.” At her words, Jupiter bowed. “Here,” she pulled out her wand and produced a small, coarse hair brush with it, handing it over to Ominis. Jupiter ruffled his feathers and took a small step closer to Ominis who was now having difficulty breathing, “he likes when you brush right under his beak.” Ominis looked from her to Jupiter and then to the brush in his hand. Jupiter shuffled closer to him again, raising his head expectantly. Ominis gave him a tentative brush which Jupiter immediately leaned into, closing his eyes. “I think he likes you.” 

If Jupiter had his way, Ominis would have stood brushing him all evening, but as it was they were here to work on potions. She was able to lure him away after a bit, levitating pieces of food across the sky; they watched him swooping through the air to pick them up, one by one, before landing on the banks of the creek for a drink. Ominis watched for a moment and the peacefulness of it all. This is how she spent her fifth year? He fought back a wave of jealousy. If he played his cards right, she might share it with him– at the very least he could bargain for more potions tutoring. She couldn’t argue he wasn’t in desperate need of any help he could get. The sound of her laughter pulled him from his thoughts and drew his attention back to the Phoenix. A cat that was much too large to be a cat had come up behind him and was batting at his flight feathers while he drank. He turned, looking  incredulously to her, “That’s Athena, she’s a kneazle. They’re best friends, really- she just likes to play. She was just skin and bones when I found her caged up at an abandoned campsite. Poor thing didn’t have an inch of fur or whisker left then, but look at her now!” Ominis watched as Jupiter beat his wings a few times, making the kneazle’s ears go back but did little to discourage the tail batting. 

“She’s beautiful.” Ominis was once again fighting a lump in his throat, suddenly realising for a second time that her hand was still in his. 

“Come on-” She was smiling again, he could hear it in her voice. She dragged him down the path, towards the cottage. Ominis could feel the warm sunset on his face as she brought him to a small garden patch between the cottage and the pavilion. Valerian flowers bloomed alongside muggle plants he didn’t recognise. 

Ominis could hear his mother’s shrill voice in his head as they dug up the plant’s roots for harvesting. She would have been displeased  if she saw him digging into the dirt with his bare hands wearing a white dress shirt and she would have been murderous if she saw him harvesting potion ingredients like a muggle, his wand forgotten in his pocket, relying on his sense of touch and her guidance in pruning. She talked while they worked, explaining the different muggle plants dotted throughout her little garden. There was St. John’s Wort, a collective of small yellow flowers the muggles used to treat hysteria, Lavender, which was said to have a calming scent and, Echinacea from the Americas, which was believed to help settle the stomach. He noticed a white flower off to the side she hadn’t addressed and asked about it, “What about these over here? Are these used in muggle healing?” He asked seriously, eyeing the slight drooping of petals. 

“Not exactly– these are tulips. They don’t really do anything healing wise, but they’re my favourite flower, so I like to have a few in my garden.” She was blushing again, caressing the petal of one of her tulips.

”What colour are they?” He asked and she was relieved to hear a tone of curiosity rather than ridicule.

”They're white. They grow in Holland, but they usually plant bright colors, yellows, pinks and reds, oranges— I don’t know why, but I’ve always preferred the white.” She hesitated watching him, waving his wand over them in interest. “In any matter, they will not benefit your potions skills. We best head back.” 

They walked arm in arm leaving the vivarium, holding a decent collection of valerian roots between the two of them. Ominis was sad to leave— the vivarium was warm and welcoming. Her cottage with her little garden surrounded by mountains and beasts felt like something out of a fairy tale.

“Don’t look so sad Ominis, you’re welcome to come back and visit Jupiter to your heart’s content.” He could hear the smile in her voice as she guided him over the threshold, back to the warm, quiet room of requirement.

[vikkirosko]

🎮 BEN Drowned x Reader headcanons Debunker of urban legends 💧

BEN often watched all sorts of things on the Internet. Sometimes he watched videos that talked about him and those he knew. They were popular, even though their popularity was pretty dismal. But no one could prove whether they actually existed. But one day something caught his attention. He found a video in which the masked presenter talked about an urban legend, sorting out what it was, and then proving that in fact it was just a rumor and there was nothing supernatural about it. It was fun for him to listen to it and he managed to watch a few more videos. They were your videos, and it didn't take long for him to find you

He was able to access your computer's camera without any problems and started watching you. He saw your face, not hidden by the mask, and he was interested in watching you and teasing you by sending various comments to your videos, causing your laptop to glitch and even the equipment in your apartment to glitch. You really didn't believe in mysticism. You were skeptical about everything that was happening. You were sure that all the strange things that started happening to you lately were due to a computer breakdown and electrical problems. BEN didn't like the fact that you seemed to deny the fact of his existence, and he decided to make sure that you finally realized that he really exists. He wrote comments from different accounts asking you to find out if BEN Drowned exists and you finally gave up, agreeing to make a video

He watched you try to find information for your video. He was surprised by how seriously you approached this issue. You searched for information on the Internet, diving further and further into the old information. You really tried to find something that could help you. BEN was feeding you more and more information, but he didn't expect you to go personally to check it. You visited the places he was associated with, but you couldn't find anyone who could tell you anything. BEN knew this would happen. He knew you couldn't find anyone. He watched with satisfaction as you became more and more angry because every trail you followed simply ended. He was waiting for you to get completely tired, and only then could he finally prove to you that he was more than real

The more you tried to find information, the more confused you became. To you, it looked like you were wandering in circles, like you were missing something very important, but you didn't understand what it was. It was all starting to drive you crazy. You were searching for information until late at night, but you weren't going to give up on it. You were determined to prove that BEN Drowned is just a rumor that has been turned into something global on the Internet. But when a stranger wrote to you, claiming that he had information that could help you, you were ready to jump at the chance. You didn't even realize that the one who wrote to you was BEN himself. He had been preparing for the opportunity to finally show himself in front of you for a long time, and now his plan was almost completely completed

You were surprised that a stranger from the Internet suggested that you meet so that you could get the information you need from him. It bothered you, but you couldn't refuse. You needed to find out the truth, not so much for the sake of the video, but for your own peace of mind. But when he said that he had already come, you felt fear. You didn't tell him where you lived. You heard a noise from your small studio, where you were working on videos and information retrieval, and went there. That's where you saw him. BEN. He was sitting at your desk with a slight smile, and you were sure that you had overworked to the point where you were hallucinating. He saw the shock on your face, but he was more than happy with it. He was the best source of information when it came to himself, and now you couldn't deny the fact that he existed

[wolfiesmoon]

Making exceptions

Baji x fem!reader

yikes i need copium AND LOTS OF IT (reminds me of a certain long-haired cult leader, or something)

Here's to a good tokyo rev fic debut🙇‍♀️🥂

Warnings: delinquent style™ hurt/comfort to fluff and lots of swearing (but that's on brand for tr anyways)

"Where the hell were you?! I was-" Baji practically broke down the rooftop door, pausing when he noticed your red, cried out face.

You quickly looked away even though you knew he already saw your tears. You've been avoiding him all day, knowing that he'll realise something is up with you straight away if you talked to him.

You thought you finally got him off your trail by sneaking onto the rooftop to cry it out but somehow he saw you leaving.

"Who do I need to kill?" The ominous tone of that question both completely surprised you yet felt completely on-brand for him.

"Don't... go beating up people... please..." you forced out, trying to overpower your hiccups.

"That's not what I was asking. Who the fuck do I need to kill?"

You flinched a little. "I know *hic* you wouldn't..." you knew the basic gist of Toman. That isn't what they do. You wiped your tear-stained cheeks, finally looking up at him. He looked livid, or atleast it looked like an angry face with your blurred vision.

He sighed. "Just tell me."

You can't possibly do that, because the person who made you cry is him. You see, you are hopelessly in love with Baji Keisuke. But the only thing he seems even remotely interested in is his gang. Which is fine, but it really does get to you sometimes.

You've tried everything to stop crushing on him but unfortunately for you, your stubborn heart refuses to let up.

"It's me..." you lied, making up some excuse of failing a test you studied really hard for.

"Did you really think I'd fall for that, idiot?"

You figured. He's too smart for his own good sometimes. It always takes you by surprise, considering his abysmal grades. Definitely not book smart. Or maybe his gang activities just keep him too busy to consider picking up a book.

You looked away again and heard the sound of him sitting down next to you.

"You seriously piss me off when you don't tell me what's wrong. You're lucky you're a girl, or I would beat your ass when you do that."

You laughed somewhat dryly, wiping away the tears on your cheeks. "Lucky me..."

A short silence followed, only interrupted by your ocassinal hiccups and sniffles.

"Are you gonna tell me or do I have to break my 'no-hitting-women' rule?" You could feel his eyes on you. You don't want an innocent person to recieve a beating and saying it's your own problem clearly didn't work, so your only option is....

"Listen... this isn't the best situation to say I'm about to say, but hear me out." You looked up, staring at the bright blue sky. Your vision was starting to clear up.

You didn't see it, but he raised an eyebrow in question.

"I like you. No, I'm in love with you." It simultaneously felt like there was a weight lifted off your shoulders and that ten more were placed on top. You're just desperate to ruin your friendship with him, aren't you?

"I knew that! Why the fuck are you crying over me...?" His words brought your still slightly red, glassy eyes to his, and a sentence jumbled in your throat, coming out as a strange groan.

"You k-knew?! This whole time?!" You tried again, clenching your shirt in your hand.

"You were making it pretty fucking obvious. Even Chifuyu noticed you acting weird." Baji still looked angry, this time at you, but you had a feeling he was very relieved deep down.

"Then... why didn't you say anything?" You held your hand against your forehead in embarrasment. Were you really being that obvious?

"I was waiting for you to confess, did you expect me to casually say 'it's real obvious you're crushing on me' one day?" He raised a brow, moving a part of his hair away from his eyes.

"Fair enough..." the fact he waited for you to confess on your own accord sparked a certain feeling in your chest. Speaking of confessions...

"So, uhh, what's your answer...?" you're not sure why you're even asking. He's made it clear multiple times he isn't interested in girls and relationships.

It is the entire reason you've been on the verge of tears all day.

"Why the hell not. I've been looking for new thrills lately anyways." Your eyes widened, taking a few seconds to properly process his words. You must have looked spaced out of your mind at that moment.

He said it non-chalantly, like he couldn't care less if it was you or another girl but somehow you knew that wasn't the case. You knew he was glad that it's you.

"Well, I'll be damned." You were honestly in too much shock to properly react to the fact he just agreed to be your boyfriend.

He smiled at you widely, showcasing his sharp teeth. "What's up with that reaction? You want me to beat your ass?"

"I'm happy! Trust me, I'm happy!" You yelled out as if you were scared but you knew he didn't mean it.

Does this mean you'll be the primary target if Baji gets into trouble with another gang and they decide to take revenge? How will your life change now? Will your parents approve of a boyfriend like him? Somehow, you never really thought about things like that until that moment.

...Hmmm, maybe the danger is worth it.

[kinkyrafe]

Working Together

Kinktober, October 22

THIS WORK IS 18+ ! MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!

Summary:

The one where you help Rafe with work—and then some.

Warnings: dom/sub dynamics, domme!reader, sub!rafe, very explicit

taglist: @yagirlwrites @audzzz @valyrianflower @aariahnaa

_

You’re lying with your head resting on Rafe’s thigh as he lets out a deep sigh. His fingers idly run through your hair, but you notice he isn’t paying attention to the series playing on your TV. Instead, his eyes are glued to his phone, his brow furrowed in thought.

“What’s going on, babe?” you ask, running your fingers up and down his leg. You love touching him, being close to him, and you know he doesn’t mind either. You even suspect he craves it, though he hasn’t said so yet.

He sighs again, locking his phone and tossing it aside. “Nothing much,” he shrugs, but you can tell he’s lying. “I’ve been selected to present our current project to one of the bosses. Normally, I’m fine with this stuff. I’m used to talking in front of people, but…” His voice trails off as he rubs the back of his neck. “They just announced that one of the CEOs will be attending as well. Now I’m way more nervous than usual.”

You sit up slightly, still close to him. “Do you want to practice?” you offer, watching his eyes flicker with hesitation.

“I don’t want to ruin our Sunday,” he mutters, curling a strand of your hair around his finger .

You sit up fully, turning off the series. “You won’t be ruining anything,” you say firmly. “I mean, I could also distract you from work.” You wiggle your eyebrows suggestively.

He smiles weakly and rubs a hand across his face.

“Nah, babe, sorry,” he mumbles, “I don’t feel like having sex right now—too nervous.” He looks at you apologetically.

Reassuringly, you run your fingers over his bicep. “Then let me help you. You’re nervous, and if there’s something I can do to make you feel better, why wouldn’t I?”

He hesitates for a moment before letting out a soft chuckle. “You sure? You’ll be bored out of your mind.”

“I’ll just ogle you the entire time, so I’ll be entertained.”

Rafe laughs, his mood lightening. “Thanks. I don’t feel objectified at all.”

You smirk. “I’m not paying attention to the content of your slides. I’ll be paying attention to how you present.”

He swallows. “You sure?”

You nod, so he gets up, moving to connect his phone to the TV so his presentation slides appear on the screen. You can’t help but admire how professional he looks even though he’s standing there barefoot, dressed in his usual Adidas shorts and a hoodie. It’s a strange contrast, but it’s also a reminder of how comfortable he feels around you.

As he begins the presentation, you watch him closely. It’s just the two of you in your living room, but he slips into his professional mode effortlessly. His words are smooth, his tone confident, and you can see the expertise behind his work. You would be lying if you pretended, it didn’t turn you on. Still, you can sense the nervous energy in him, the slight tension in his shoulders, the way he occasionally stumbles over a word.

Once he finishes, you sit back and grin. “Wow, I didn’t expect watching you work to be so hot.”

Rafe snorts. “I don’t usually look like this at work.”

“The casual look suits you,” you say, smiling up at him. “But seriously, you were amazing.”

“Thanks,” he says, his voice softening. But you can tell he’s still not entirely relaxed.

“Alright, let’s go over your slides,” you say, pulling him back into focus. 

You start going over your feedback with him, adjusting a few wordings, pointing out where he could slow down or add a bit more energy. The two of you bounce ideas off each other, creating a rhythm where he listens intently, adding his own thoughts to improve the flow. This feels good.

After a short break, another run-through and a second set of feedback, you grin at him. 

“Feeling less nervous now?”

He nods, visibly more relaxed. “Yeah, a lot less.”

“Good,” you say, standing up with a wicked grin. “Now let’s really test your focus.”

“What do you mean?” he asks, raising an eyebrow as he watches you.

“If you can get through your presentation while I distract you, you’ll definitely be prepared.”

“I don’t think—”

“It’s an order, Rafe,” you say, your voice firm but playful at the same time. There’s a familiar glint of challenge in your eyes that you know he can’t resist. “Go back to the first slide and start again. Don’t stop your presentation, no matter what I’m doing to you.”

Rafe swallows, his eyes darkening slightly. Then he smirks. “Yes, ma’am.”

He starts again, clicking to the first slide as you step back, slowly starting to undress. You peel off your shirt first, revealing that there is no bra underneath. You keep a playful smile on your face, knowing it’ll be hard for him to concentrate. He stumbles over a word but he keeps going. Then you remove the socks and leggings you’ve been wearing, until you're standing in front of him only in underwear. 

There is fire in his eyes, you can see it. You love every second of this. He reaches out a hand to touch you but you immediately take a step back and wiggle your finger at him. “No touching for you!”  

He pouts for a second. When you nod to his presentation, he continues to present.

On the second slide, you move closer to him, coming up behind him silently. You can feel the heat radiating off him as you lightly brush your fingertips along his back. His breath hitches, but he keeps speaking.

“This is good practice, babe,” you murmur, your lips just inches from his ear. “After this, you’ll be able to give your presentation no matter the distraction.”

He chuckles softly, his voice strained. “I doubt anyone’s going to do this to me during the actual presentation.”

You press your lips against his neck, just below his ear—his sweet spot—and feel him shudder. “I hope not,” you tease, biting lightly on his earlobe.

By the third slide, your hands are roaming over his chest, teasing his nipples through the fabric of his hoodie. His words falter slightly as his body responds to your touch, but he pushes through, determined to continue. You smirk and slip your hands under his hoodie, pinching his nipples lightly.

“Come on, keep talking,” you whisper, leaning in so your breath brushes his neck. “Explain these graphs to me.”

Rafe groans softly but manages to keep his voice steady, even though his cock is already straining against his shorts. As you toy with his nipples, you feel the tension building in his body, his words becoming breathier.

After a few more teasing touches, you step back to grab something from the key pocket of your leggings—a pair of nipple clamps. When you return, Rafe pauses mid-sentence, his eyes widening slightly when he sees what’s in your hand.

“Where did those come from?” he asks, his voice raspier than usual, his eyes wide.

You laugh softly. “I grabbed them when you were in the bathroom earlier.”

His eyes widen further. “You planned this.”

You grin wickedly. “Always, babe.”

Without another word, you attach the clamps to his nipples, tugging them gently to make sure they’re in place. He hisses softly through clenched teeth but continues with his presentation, trying to ignore the sharp, persistent sensation. You lean in close, your fingers brushing along his abs as you whisper in his ear, “What about those numbers on your slide, Rafe?”

He groans but presses on, his voice shaky as he goes over the next few slides.

As he reaches the sixth slide, your hands slide lower, teasing the waistband of his shorts. You feel his cock twitch beneath your fingertips as you begin stroking him lightly through the fabric, your other hand still toying with the clamps. “I love watching you fall apart under my hands, babe,” you murmur, kissing his neck again.

Rafe’s words falter, his body trembling as you slowly work him up. He swallows hard, trying to keep his focus, but when you finally slide your hand inside his shorts and begin stroking his length, he lets out a low, needy moan.

“Start again from the beginning of this slide,” you instruct, your tone commanding but gentle.

He whines softly, his hips shifting against your hand, but he obeys, starting over. His voice is strained, his words slurred with arousal, but he keeps going, determined to make it through.

By the eighth slide, he breaks off mid-sentence, his eyes rolling into the back of his head, as he moans and lets himself enjoy your touches. You immediately stop stroking him, pulling your hand away. He groans, clearly frustrated by the sudden loss of contact.

“Every time you stop speaking, I’ll stop touching you,” you remind him, smirking at the way he immediately resumes his presentation. 

You step back and undress him, peeling away his hoodie and shorts until he’s completely exposed. His skin is flushed, his cock painfully hard, but you ignore it for now. Instead, you walk over to the dresser and grab some lube, smirking at how he watches your every move with a mixture of anticipation and desperation.

“I love that you have lube all over your apartment,” he mutters as he tries to continue speaking.

“Always prepared,” you whisper into his ear as you return, spreading the lube on your fingers. You tease his rim, feeling him flinch slightly at the touch, but he doesn’t stop talking.

“Good boy,” you praise him, gently pushing one finger inside him. He gasps, his voice faltering as you start stroking his prostate with careful precision. “Letting me touch you wherever I want.”

He pauses for a moment, his words getting tangled in his throat, but you give him a warning slap on his ass. “Every time you hesitate, I’m going to make it harder for you.”

With that, you slide a second finger inside, pressing deeper. His legs tremble, but he forces himself to keep going, his voice wavering as he explains the finances of his project. You smile to yourself, loving how obedient he’s being, how much he’s trying to please you despite the overwhelming pleasure.

“Spread your legs,” you command, and without missing a beat, he complies, widening his stance while continuing to speak. “Good boy,” you murmur again, sliding a third finger inside him. His breath comes out in shaky gasps, his body trembling from the intensity, but he doesn’t stop.

When you find his prostate again, his voice cracks, his sentences punctuated by soft moans of pleasure. The sight of him trying to maintain his composure while you work him over sends a thrill through you. You lean in, kissing his neck softly while your fingers continue to press against that sensitive spot inside him.

“Now that I’m looking at it from this angle,” you say sweetly, “I think you should choose even higher contrast colors for graph 2.” Each word is accompanied by a deliberate thrust of your fingers, eliciting breathy gasps from him. He laughs, the sound shaky and full of desire.

“Nice to know what you’re looking at,” he manages to get out, but you can tell he’s struggling to focus, the sensations overwhelming him.

“Do you feel uncomfortable?” you ask, feigning innocence as you curl your fingers just right to push against his prostate again.

He shakes his head, leaning back into your touch. “No, not at all.”

“Green?” you ask, knowing exactly what you’re doing to him.

“Very green,” he replies, his voice barely a whisper.

“Continue, then,” you instruct, spreading your fingers wide, causing him to jolt and gasp. “Or we'll start all over again.”

As he continues, you feel the tension in his body build even more. You can tell he’s fighting to keep his focus, and you love every second of it. You gently withdraw your fingers, leaving him feeling momentarily empty.

“Continue, babe. You’re doing great,” you murmur, reassuring him as you take your hands away to pull out a cock ring from your drawer. You can see his eyes widen with curiosity and a hint of nervousness.

“Wait, what are you doing?” he asks, his breath catching in his throat.

“Just preparing something,” you reply with a smirk, slipping the ring over his cock. He tenses at the feeling, and you can see the struggle on his face as the pressure builds. “I still have about ten slides to go,” he whines, but there’s an edge of excitement in his voice.

“That’s what this is for, silly,” you tease, stroking him again, and his breath hitches in his throat as the sensations meld together. You lean in closer, whispering sweetly, “Stand back up.”

He obeys, and you can see the way his knees threaten to buckle as he stands tall, clearly feeling the effects of both your touch and the cock ring. “You’re already having trouble standing, and I haven’t even started really working you over yet.”

“That’s because I’m so turned on,” he admits, his voice shaky.

“Good,” you chuckle, relishing in the power you hold over him. You gently smack his ass again, watching as he jumps slightly at the unexpected sting. “Now get back to your presentation.”

He throws you a confused look, but when he sees the playful glint in your eyes, he turns back to the slides. “Good boy,” you whisper, and you can’t help but smile at the way he beams at the compliment every single time.

As he goes on to the next slide, you pull out your phone, opening the app that controls the vibrations of the cock ring. You increase the setting, and he jolts forward, his breath hitching at the sudden wave of sensation washing over him.

“Oh fuck, it vibrates,” he swears, completely taking by surprise.

You can’t help but laugh. “Stand tall, babe,” you command then, a hint of teasing in your tone. “And don’t forget to breathe. This is how I want you to finish your presentation.”

With each passing slide, his voice grows more breathless, the vibrations sending waves of pleasure through him. Everything about his body tells you how bothered he is by it. You can see the struggle on his face, the way he bites his lip to suppress the sounds he wants to make. You can see how flushed he is. How his muscles tense. 

You continue to adjust the settings on the toy, alternating between steady vibrations and rapid pulses, driving him closer and closer to the edge.

As you approach the last few slides, you move back to him, stroking his hard cock a few times while still keeping your fingers teasingly close to his entrance. You lean in, biting and sucking at his neck and shoulders, marking him as yours. “Let’s make sure everyone knows you’re mine,” you whisper, feeling him shudder beneath your touch.

“Fuck, I can’t focus,” he groans, desperation creeping into his voice as he tries to push through.

“Five more slides to go, come on,” you encourage him. “You were just talking about the challenges.”

He blinks at you, the most playful smirk on his lips. “One of the biggest challenges is that I’m currently being fucked by my mistress—”

You can’t help but laugh, the image of him trying to maintain professionalism while completely at your mercy sending a thrill through you. But you quickly turn serious, smacking his bare skin hard, and he yelps. “Start again from the beginning of the slide.”

He stutters, trying to remember where he left off, and as you continue to finger him with one hand, you spank him with the other, each slap met with a soft gasp or moan. “Next sentence, come on,” you push him, enjoying the way he squirms under your touches.

“Does that feel good, mh?” you ask, your voice dripping with sweetness.

“Yes, mistress,” he moans, his words barely coherent.

You take this movement to quickly remove the nipple clams, making him scream out in pain. You immediately drag your tongue over one nipple and use your fingers to tug on the other. Evidently, it becomes too much for him, as he takes a step back.

“Oh no, sir,” you scold him, cupping his balls and pulling them towards you so that he does not have a choice but step closer again, “Don’t ever try and avoid me!” 

You scratch your finger nails over his nipples what makes him his. At the same time, you can’t help but tilt your face upwards so that you can kiss him. It’s a soft kiss, one that you wouldn’t expect in a situation like this but you can’t help but think that it just fits nevertheless. It suits the two of you.

You continue to kiss him and start stroking his cock again.

“You’re nearly there,” you say softly, feeling the heat between you. “You’re allowed to cum as soon as you say ‘thank you for your attention’ on the next slide.”

He nods vigorously, his eyes clouded with pleasure. Finally, he reaches the last slide, and he blurts out, “Thank you for your attention!” as quickly as humanly possible.

You can’t help but chuckle at his eagerness as you quickly take off the cock ring, and almost the moment it’s gone, he cums hard, his body shuddering with the intensity of his release. You watch, captivated, as he rides out his orgasm, the sounds he makes a mix of relief and pleasure.

—

Once you’re both in the shower together, he leans against the wall, panting slightly. “I just hope I can get through the presentation on Tuesday without getting hard,” he jokes, a sheepish grin on his face.

You take the opportunity to leave another mark on his broad chest, your fingers tracing the outline of your handiwork. “That would be advisable,” you tease, your voice low and sultry as you lean in to press your lips against his.

“Are you in the mood to finger me in here?” You ask, wiggling your eyebrows.

His eyes light up as his hands run down your sides.  “I’m always in the mood to finger you.” He returns the gesture and wiggles his eyebrows.

“Make me cum then,” you order.

He is soft when he touches you. Soft but so sure, and so so skilled. He could probably make you cum faster than you could do it yourself and that is something that no man ever could before him.

“You’re so turned on already,” he whispers in awe.

You open your eyes and can’t help but laugh. “Excuse me? I just fucked my super hot boyfriend, of course I’m turned on!”

“Mmmh,” he hums and kisses you again.

Then he draws back a bit. “I know how this could be much better for you,” He says carefully, “May I?”

You look at him for a quick second before you agree. “I’ll safeword out if I’m uncomfortable, but go ahead.” You drop a kiss on his jawline. “I trust you.”

His eyes light up again. It really takes so little to make him happy. “Can you hold on to me?” He asks and once you do, he hooks his left arm under your right thigh so that he can lift up your leg, giving him much better access to your vulva.

“This okay, ma’am?” He asks and you can’t help but feel your heart jump at the address. It’s so important to him to maintain the power dynamics whenever you two get sexual with one another. He just loves it as much as you do.

“Very,” You moan—and he gets right back to work.

You nearly cum right then and there but you force yourself to hold back.

“Fuuck,” You moan again, “You’re so good at this!”

The water cascades over you both, and a part of you knows that this right here, is still just the beginning. The two of you still have plenty of ways to keep each other on your toes—or off of them for that matter.

[haerenven]

⋅˚₊‧୨NIGHT COMPANY୧‧₊˚⋅

featuring. portgas d ace x fem!reader

summary. Late at night conversation under arabasta weather, with your captain’s older brother !✧˚ ༘ ⋆｡˚

warning, none serious

As the cool night breeze gently rustled through the air, you found yourself perched alone on the deck of the Going Merry, the silence broken only by the soft lapping of the waves against the hull. The ship was anchored in a secluded inlet, its sails furled and the mainmast towering above the water like a lonely sentinel in the night.

The moon hung low in the sky, casting a pale shimmer on the rippling water, and a carpet of stars extended as far as the eye could see. You took a deep breath, savoring the crisp, salty air that carried the scent of adventure, and leaned back against the railing, your thoughts lost in the vast expanse of the ocean before you.

“need a company?” Startled by the sudden voice breaking into the tranquil night, you spun around to find Ace, your captain's brother, standing a few steps behind you. His dark eyes seemed to dance with a hint of amused mischief as he approached, the moonlight illuminating his tousled locks, making them gleam like raven feathers.

"Mind if I join you?" Ace asked, leaning against the railing beside you, his voice a smooth, velvety baritone that seemed to wrap around you like a comforting embrace. The smell of the sea clung to him, mixed with a subtle hint of sea salt and something uniquely him.

you just nodded and moved aside, giving him space to lean against the railing next to her. The moon cast a silvery glow over them, making the moment feel like a secret shared between the night, the sea, and the two of them.

They stood in silence for a moment, the quiet only broken by the gentle lapping of waves against the ship's hull. Finally, she spoke, her voice softly cutting through the stillness, "Can't sleep either?"

Ace chuckled, his smile a lopsided grin that sent a flutter of warmth through her chest. "Nah, the sea's too restless tonight. I can feel it in my bones." He turned to face her, his gaze warm and steady under the silver moonlit, "Besides," he continued, "I saw you, and I wanted to join you." His words were playful, but there was an undertone of concern in his voice, and she found herself touched by his unspoken worry.

"I just needed to clear my head," she admitted, looking out at the vast expanse of the sea, her voice tinged with a hint of melancholy. The wind picked up, causing the sails above to rustle and snap gently in the night air, “but seriously, why you still awake?” She spoke with her velvety honeyed feminine voice

He stood still by the deck, gazing at the silver moonlight reflecting on the surface of the gently lapping waves. He couldn't help but immerse himself in his thoughts, mulling over the events of the past, each scene playing in his mind like a film reel. With a quiet sigh, he muttered softly, "past…running through my head."

She hummed a sweet tune and nodded, catching him a little off guard. "I can listen" she began, her voice soft and soothing. "if you want to talk about it." He found himself strangely at ease around her, like he could just open up and pour out his innermost thoughts without judgment.

His voice trailed off for a moment as he gathered his thoughts. "My family… or rather," he paused, his gaze drifting out to the darkened sea, "my mother." There was a hint of sorrow in his voice, a tinge of pain that belied the carefully constructed facade he usually wore, He began to speak, hesitant at first but gradually opening up more. It was a strange feeling, as he usually kept his personal life tightly guarded, rarely revealing anything to anyone. But something about her made him want to share, to confide in her in a way he had never done before.

He nodded slowly, his eyes still fixated on the waves he replied, his tone measured and guarded, "I've lost them." He didn't elaborate further, not willing to delve too deeply into the pain that still clutched at his heart, not because of anything, but because of thinking of his mother.

Her voice was gentle, like a comforting caress, as she responded, "Oh… sorry to hearing that." The velvety softness of her words seemed to soothe his raw emotions, a small flicker of comfort in the midst of his grief.

He took a deep breath, trying to keep his emotions in check. "It was a long time ago," he managed to say, his voice steady despite the ache that still lingered in his heart, Her slender, soft hand gently rested on his back, and rub it gently, the unexpected touch sending a jolt of surprise through him. As she began to rub his back with a tender motion, a wave of unfamiliar comfort washed over him.

“you must think I’m vulnerable and weak now, it’s ridiculous” he spoke up trying to keep his usual bubbly attitude, she hummed “no, I think you are even stronger then ever”

he looked at her surprised, stare at her beautiful stunning eyes shine under silver moonlight, “wha-?” , she nodded silently and softly “what you’ve been through isn’t easy, and it’s never ridiculous, you felt hurt and pain, so it’s not and never ridiculous, plus, now I find you much stronger, the fact you kept all these feelings hide inside your heart is really strong of you, no one can keep all this pain hide from the world” she spoke gently with Words full of wisdom

He stared at her, wide-eyed, not quite believing what he was hearing. No one had ever told him that his pain made him strong, that the act of hiding it was a testament to his resilience. Her words pierced through his defenses, touching a part of him that he had thought long buried.

"No one's ever said that before," he mumbled, his voice barely above a whisper. He found himself at a loss for words, too overwhelmed by the unexpected understanding he found in her gaze.

“Then I did” she said confidently with sweet soft smile,

He couldn't help but feel a flutter in his chest as she smiled, her sweetness and confidence radiating like a warm glow. It was as if her words had melted a piece of the wall around his heart, allowing some of the pain and loneliness to escape.

"You're…different," he managed to say, his voice a little hoarse. He couldn't quite put his finger on what it was about her that made him feel so off-balance, but he couldn't deny the effect she was having on him, Her smile only widened at his observation, her eyes dancing with a mischievous sparkle. "Of course I am," she replied easily, a hint of playfulness in her tone. "And you're different too, you know."

“I don’t think I can stop-“ Ace looked at her, his gaze soft and warm in the moonlight, a small smile playing at the corner of his lips. "thinkin' 'bout you" he replied, his voice quiet and intimate in the stillness.

Surprise coursed through her at his words, her heart skipping a beat in her chest. She turned to him, her eyes wide and her cheeks flushed with a hint of a blush. "M-me?" she managed to stammer out, her voice betraying her flustered state.

Ace chuckled, his smile widening into a wolfish grin. "You" he affirmed, leaning in a fraction closer. His eyes were fixed on her, the dark depths of them like pools of night reflecting the silvery moonlight.

“Now you thinkin' 'bout me all night long?, such a simp” she said playfully and bubbly hide her flustered attitude, Ace feigned offence, placing a hand over his heart in a dramatic gesture. "Hey, I'm not just thinking, I'm strategizing," he teased, his eyes sparkling with a hint of mischief. "I was figuring out the best way to win your heart."

He chuckled at the look on her face, her eyes widening with surprise and a hint of a blush on her cheeks. He leaned back against the rail, crossing his arms over his chest, the playfulness still dancing in his eyes. "And I've got a few ideas," he added with a lopsided grin.

“and why you wanna win my heart?” Her soft delicate silky feminine tone ringing in his ears, Ace could see the hint of shyness in her expression. He smiled gently, "Why wouldn't I?" he replied, an undertone of genuine warmth in his words. "Not every day you meet someone as intriguing and captivating as you." His glanced never brake the eye contact between you two, “you’re Cool, strong, brave, intelligent, reliable, and one of my lil’ brother crew members, and one of the prettiest, isn’t enough?”

She felt a flutter in her chest at his words, his gaze and subtle compliments causing her heart to skip a beat. "But there are so many others…" she trailed off, her voice soft and tinged with a hint of insecurity.

"Ah, but they're not you," he replied, his tone holding a hint of possessiveness. "They don't have your fire. Your determination. Your loyalty." He leaned closer, his voice dropping to a murmur, "And your smile makes my heart ache with the need to keep it shining just for me."

Her breath caught in her throat at the intensity in his eyes as his words, her pulse quickening as the space between them seemed to close. She could feel the heat of his body, and the subtle scent of sea salt that clung to him, and she found herself feeling dizzy, lost in the moment and the emotions he stirred in her.

“you know you can’t win my hearts, I don’t think fate can do it, I’m a straw hat pirate, and you are whitebeard pirate, actually, second Division commander”

Ace chuckled, leaning back against the rail and giving her a sly, sidelong glance. "Fate has a funny way of surprising us," he replied, a hint of challenge in his voice. "And since when has that measly little detail stopped anyone from going after what they want?"

he stepped closer a bit, but not really close so he won’t make you feel uncomfortable, “I know it’s seems weird by any chance, but I really like you, I’m not sure what should I call it, I can’t call it love when I barely know you, but I probably can call it LIKE?”, He looked at her, waiting for a response, a hint of nervousness beneath his exterior.

She glanced at him with sparkly gaze with stars shine inside them, “so?, will you date me?” His voice ringing softly with his cheeks were burning red, “if I said yes, can I kiss you?” She mumbled with smooth gentle tone, he smiled bubbly “if I said yes, will you be my girl?”, she had an angelic smile and nodded “yes”, he smiled slightly before grab both of your delicate soft slim hand that look smaller compared of his on slender tanned hands

and one of his hand smoothed on your waist, and pulled you against his muscular bare chest, feeling of the warmth of his skin against the soft fabric of your clothes, and lean forward closer and pressed a gentle sweet kiss on your lips, unexpected from a guy who seemed really player like ace, but either way, you just go with the flow of the moment, and your free hand brushed his cheeks with lovely touch

After while when they broke the kiss, and admire at both of each other sight, he had a small overjoyed smile before pressing a quick peck on your forehead, “thank you for the conversation, and for the kiss, to be honest”

”anytime” She chuckled softly in response, her gaze warm and amused. Then, in a coy tone, she suggested, "You know, I think it’s probably time for us both to get some shut eye. Let's head to bed."

“yeah, sure ~” he spoke up with his honeyed tone, with lovesick puppy expression and dreamy gaze, before shook his head and clear his throat “heh, yeah I think we should go” he rubbed the back of his neck shyly

He looked again at her before placed both of his hands on her cheeks and cupped them softly and pressed a loving kiss on her lips, “good night” , she had a small smile on her kissable lips, and her eyes glow of starts sparkle shines, “good night” she added with soft warm loving gaze

He give her last quick kiss on her lips, turned to move off to the boys cabin, before turned again and pressed another kiss on her lips, she chuckled quietly, then when he turned again he stopped trying hold himself but spun again and hold both of cheeks and locked their lips, and kissed her deeply, and when he broke it he meet her gaze again “sorry, I can’t get enough of—“ he stopped when you shut him by kissing him again gently and stopped before give him calm quiet smile then kissed his cheek and turned and leaved

His heart was a puddle of molten affection, and his gaze was a mix of lovestruck admiration. Pink-tinted cheeks betrayed his inner emotions, and he uttered to himself in a low tone, his voice barely above a whisper, "I think I'm in love”

note. Very cutie, very demure, jk but anyway I already love this, and at the moment requests are opened, plus tell me what do you guys think in comments . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

[noforkingclue]

Hello, I hope you're having a great day. If it's okay with you could I please request a James Bond x reader where while on a mission, they both get kidnapped by the villain, and they have to work together to escape.

Have a great week.

Thank you!

Yes, my day has been good. Nice chilled weekend. Hope you've been good!

Hope you like the fic :)

Title: Escaping

It was strange.

Being kidnapped for real that is.

Of course you’d done all the training but there was a difference between the training (where you knew you were safe) and this being genuine. That you didn’t know what would happen next. That the next time the door opened you could end up with a bullet in your head.

“You ok?”

Then there was Bond. You could feel his back pressed against yours. It was a strange comfort to have him next to you. M had assigned Bond to be your mentor when you first joined MI6. You think that he had just done it because he was pissed off at Bond at the time. Apparently, Bond had never been a mentor before. He always seemed to be conveniently out of the country on some mission or other when mentoring came up. However, he didn’t manage to avoid it forever.

Obviously everyone had warned you about him. Even M had a quiet word, warning you not to fall for Bond’s ‘supposed charms’. You had to admit you were a bit nervous at first. Even you were aware of Bond’s reputation even though you were new. However, and much to your surprise, Bond had been a decent mentor and he actually took your training seriously. That was probably why M assigned the two of you to work this mission together. It was your first time out in the field and the two of you just had to end up being kidnapped.

“Are you listening to me?”

You were dragged out of your thoughts by Bond. You realised he asked you a question and shifted awkwardly.

“Yeah, sorry. It’s just…”

You trailed off.

“Are you going to die?”

Bond let out an amused snort. You tried to look over your shoulder to glare at him but the way you were tied made that virtually impossible. You could feel the amusement radiating off of him.

“Well?” you asked, “Are we?”

“No.” he replied

“How do you know?”

“Because if they wanted us dead they wouldn’t have tied us up.”

“But how-”

“And,” he interrupted you firmly, “I’ve been in worse situations than this.”

You felt him lean against your back and you felt your cheeks get hot at the action. Yes, he had touched you before- repositioning you when he thought your form was off, offering you a hand when he inevitably beat you during sparring. But this, this, felt different. It was oddly intimate for the relationship the two of you had. Of course there were rumours about what was going on between you. While Bond had occasionally flirted with you, you made sure that it was strictly platonic. You weren’t going to be another notch on his bedpost.

“You remember what I taught you,” Bond’s voice once again snapped you out of your thoughts, “about getting out of handcuffs.”

“Dislocate my thumb,” you said reluctantly, “do I have to? It fucking hurts.”

“If you didn’t want to get hurt then you shouldn’t have become a field agent,” Bond said firmly, “now do it.”

“But-”

You yelped as Bond reached around and pressed down on your thumb joint. You felt the familiar unpleasant sensation of your thumb dislocating but on the plus side, the handcuff around that wrist slipped off. You stood up, cradling your hand as Bond joined you.

“How long did you have your handcuffs off?” you asked

“Barely had them on.”

Your breath hitched as Bond gently took your hand. You had popped your thumb back into place, grimacing as you did so.

“You still have a lot to learn,” he said, tracing a finger over your knuckles, “you’re going to have to do a lot more unpleasant things than this.”

“I know.”

Bond locked gazes with you. He still had your hand in his and you shifted uncomfortably under his gaze. You pulled your hand away and headed towards the door.

“We should get out of here,” you said, desperately trying to distract yourself, “before our kidnappers come back.”

“Right.”

You didn’t see the way Bond’s hand lingered in the air for a second before he clenched his fist and lowered it. Or the way he looked at you when you had your back to him. Instead, he forced himself to forget the feeling of your back against his or how your hand felt in his.

“Now then,” he said, “let’s see if you can remember how to pick a lock.”

[loulougoingsolo]

"Just yourself be, if weird is you."

I don't often get annoyed by Rhett or Link, and it is probably a strong word to use even now, but...today's Ear biscuits episode kinda made me growl at Rhett a little.

I'm not going to talk about the entire episode, but the guys were answering listener questions, and the last one was about midlife crises, if they have them and how.

Now, as someone who is less than a year younger than Link, I've probably tackled a crisis of my own in the recent times. (You could say my entire adult life has been a crisis, but I won't.) But I loved Link's explanation of his midlife crisis, which was basically finding the limits of how weird he can be without making Christy scratch her head too much. Like, Link basically said he is still exploring what he is and what he wants to be (and I'm not implying he was talking about his sexual identity - I think he meant he is exploring his identity in a broader context of being human). Rhett took this as an opportunity to remind Link that when someone chooses to be "weird", they need to understand that it might impact their relationships. And at that point, I growled.

I'm a weirdo. I spent way too many years of my life trying not to be weird. The funny (not really) thing was, trying to act normal only made me sick, made me behave in a very unnatural, stiff way around other people, and I was miserable. I dare to say, nowadays, after, thanks to a lot of soul-searching, therapy and embracing my true self, I come across much more likable than before. I'm not tense, I don't need to put on a mask, and I am more comfortable with myself, which just makes me more fun to be with. Syre, there are people who think I'm too weird, don't act my age, or make strange stylistic choices. The people I love accept me as I am, and I may have infected them with dashes of self-acceptance, too. So, grrr at you, Rhett.

Seriously though, I love that Link is less tense these days. I know some people are annoyed by him, but I love how he has blossomed from an antsy guy who stuck to wearing t-shirts and jeans to an actual fashion icon. He's less afraid of showing his emotions these days (good and bad), and he's just overall more at ease. I'd hate for his loved ones to try to tame him too much, and I hated the way Rhett managed to make his advice sound like a threat that if Link gets too weird, he'll lose some of his relationships.

Maybe I heard more than was said. Maybe this rubbed me the wrong way, because I see myself in Link more than I do in Rhett, and I recognize the things Link said in myself. I hope to hear other people's thoughts on this episode, and this answer about midlife crisis in particular.

Also, for anyone planning to go hiking with a cat: I love the idea, and if I see you with your cats on the trails I take, I want to be your friend. I have been known to lightly stalk a lady who was in the library with her cat on her shoulders, just so I could coo at the furbaby.

[kengan-daddies]

Kengan Ashura, I was thinking Ohma x Raian x Reader. Reader was reading in a shared apartment and their are established relationship. Until the Reader heard whimpers and moans from their shared apartment and saw Ohma and Raian making out and Raian is dominating Ohma. 18***

Walked in On Ohma Tokita x Girlfriend Reader x Raian Kure

Ohma Tokita x Girlfriend Reader x Raian Kure

Ohma Tokita x Girlfriend Reader x Raian Kure

Anime : Kengan Ashura Character : Ohma Tokita , Raian Kure Warning: Bodily fluids, mention of biting, choking, slapping, rough sex, slight voyeurism

Threesomes are not my strong suit, I don't do too good with these, but this is pretty much just two people having sex and someone walking in on them so it's not too intense.

You were in the living room, relaxing on the couch, reading a book, the rain outside and the soft music you had playing set the scene well for you. The apartment was relatively quiet, the boys were upstairs somewhere, probably dicking around with each other, you could care less, just as long as you finally got some peace and quiet.

A loud thump sounded out from upstairs, and your eyes flickered up before going back to your book, another Thump, and a grunt. You sighed. 'So it begins.' You thought in annoyance as you continued to read your book, come more noises sounded out above you and you shook your head. 'They'll stop sooner or later... just give them time.' You thought, after a while, the thumps did stop sounding out and you slowly forgot about it, till a new noise sounded out.

It was a moan, you looked up in question. 'A moan?.... Probably a moan of pain?' You thought but the noise sounded again and you continued to listen, trying to understand what you were hearing. 'Was Ohma hurt?... Was Raian hurt?.... Did someone hit the other a little too hard?... If so shouldn't they be helping each other?.... Who am I kidding, this is Ohma and Raian, it'll be a cold day in hell if they ever actually treated a small injury with seriousness.' You thought as you snapped your book close.

You put your book down next to you as you got up from the couch, ready to go and investigate the cause of the noise. As you walked up the stairs, the louder the noises sounded out, you were beginning to think that it wasn't a moan of pain and more of pleasure. 'Are they having sex right now?... That would explain the noises.' You thought with an eye roll. You got to the bedroom door, and you opened it. Nothing... 'Hmm, well their clothes are all here... but where are they?' You thought as you walked around the room, you checked the closet, nothing, the bathroom, nothing. 'Hmmm... These strange fuckers.' You thought.

You walked out of the room, closing the door behind you and another moan sounded out, you walked around the hall, hearing it get louder before you stopped in front of the bathroom door. The light was on and the noises were coming from in here sooooo. You opened the door, and sure enough, there they were. Both Ohma and Raian. Ohma was bent over the bathroom sink while Raian was plowing him from behind. Ohma was a mess, his already messy hair was tangled in Raian's hand, and saliva trailed down his chin leaving a silky line that led down into the skin, he had a few bite marks on his neck, shoulder, and arms, some hand prints on his upper arms, neck and waist.

Raian on the other hand, seemed relatively normal, aside from his own bite marks, some saliva on his chin, and his usual vicious smirk on his face. They both looked over at you. You placed your hand on your hip as you stared at them. "Really?..." You asked. They stared at you for a moment before they looked at one another and back at you. "What? You wanna join in or something?" Raian asked. "No, this is boys' time, no girls allowed." Ohma grunted out. You rolled your eyes.

"Why are you guys in the bathroom? What happened from the bedroom to the bathroom?" You asked. "We were wrestling, but then one thing led to another and before we knew it we were in the bathroom fucking." Raian explained. Ohma nodded. You shook your head a little smile on your face as you did. 'Well, that explains the earlier noises then.' You thought. "Of course... Well, carry on then." You two, don't mind me. You said as you closed the door.

You walked downstairs, hearing their grunts and groans pick back up as the sound of slapping came into play. You rolled your eyes as you descended the stairs, you plopped down on the couch with a sigh before you picked up your book, flipping back to the page you were on as you went back to your reading. "Tch, boys' bonding time, hmph" You whispered to yourself a frown on your face, but it slowly melted into a smile. "At least they're getting along better now." You said, as you fully emersed yourself into the story.

[sofasoap]

Malen`kaya printsessa (Маленькая принцесса)

Pairing: Nikolai x F!Reader ( aka Mini ) + OC ( Anya MacTavish). hints of other pairings too. Warning: M Theme. Set in the future , spoiler for " Lastochka - raging waves". talk of children, pregnancy, violence. Author note: really writing this as a comfort fic for myself and @nrdmssgs wanting a comfort Nikolai fic :) this is for you.

The OC's belongs to my fellow Moots: Olga 'Zhar' Samoilova - @nrdmssgs Christine 'Riot' Vega - @gamergirlbonestaskforce141riot Mylène "petra" scholten de ridder - @siilvan

“Papa! Papa!!”  

Nikolai turned his head as he heard his little precious princess running up towards him with a little paper plane in her hand. ”Look what дядя Krueger made for me!!” she jumped up and down excitedly.

“Krueger.” Nikolai raised his eyebrow,amused at the news of his daughter's unlikely playmate. 

“дядя Krueger, he’s really good!! He said he’s going to fold more for me!” 

“Is he now?” Nikolai jumped down from the top of the helicopter, wiping his hand with a rag before sitting down and waving his daughter over, taking a break from fixing his trusty flying machine.

Anya happily blabbering about what other activities her Tetya and Dyadya had been doing with her. Zhar always lets her sit beside her in the office and draws on scrap pieces of paper, Yuri always follows Anya as she goes around the base,keeping an eye on her in case she runs into trouble. Now Krueger seems to take a liking to the little girl. 

His little Princess really has the Chimera wrapped around her little fingers. 

Just like how her Ma had him. 

His two beloved birds. 

The two treasures nearly got stolen from him. 

Devastating mistakes he vow not to ever happen again. 

Nikolai still has nightmares of the day he found the house full of dead bodies and trails of blood. 

Anya’s trembling and traumatised face. 

His Lastochka’s tortured body.

The day he felt everything was taken away from him. 

For the sins he had committed. 

“...And тётя Olga was yelling at дядя Krueger for being a bampot!!” Anya giggled. 

“mmm, did she now?” Nikolai replied absentmindedly, patting his daughter’s head. 

“… Papa, you are not listening!” Anya pouted as she poked Nikolai, annoyed at her Papa. She adjusted herself to finding a more comfortable position before continuing her report on what she had been up to.

“Oh Papa! can you please take me for a ride in your new plane next time?” Anya begged. “дядя Krueger said you are getting new gears for the team! I want to go for a ride too!” 

Nikolai looked down at her daughter. This girl has a strange fixation on flying machines from the time she was born, and it doesn’t help that her uncle and aunties have been giving her toys that are related to helicopters and aeroplanes and everything military like. 

Without doubt Anya IS his daughter. 

“Now Anya, just remember, don’t throw your Uncle Gaz out of the helicopter like your Papa did –” Gaz warned the little three month old baby as he put more of his newly crocheted dolls and planes into her cot. 

“Gaz,I seriously don’t think you need to worry about that…” 

“Just yet. Who knows. Not saying this cute little bub will do it but.. If he is indeed her father’s daughter….”

“Gaz…”

“But…”

“Please Papa….” Anya battered her round puppy like eyes, tears gathering. He sighed. He just couldn’t say no to her. “Alright. Remember you have to…”

“Listen to everything Papa tells me to do. I know.” Anya jumped up and gave her father a big hug and a kiss. “Thank you papa. Oh There’s Ma!” Anya turned her head and ran across the room as she spotted you slowly waddling into the hanger.  

“Ma! Papa said he will take me for a ride next time in the new plane!!” Anya announced the news excitedly to you as she took your hand and carefully led you to sit down beside Nikolai.

You look at your husband, silently asking the question. He just laughed and shook his head. 

“You really can’t say no to her, can you?” You chuckled as you lean against your husband, swatting his creeping hand away from your ass. “You dote on her too much.”

“How can you say no to that sweet little face?” Nikolai replied innocently, settling his hand around your waist instead, and gently running his hand on your raised bump. “I would give everything to keep that sweet smile on her face.” and to keep the happiness on YOUR face.

“Everything?” 

“Everything.” Except for letting her take over Chimera. She deserves a world without violence from what she has seen from a young age.

Nikolai watches as Anya spotted another Chimera soldier walking into the hangar and ran towards them to show off her paper planes.

“Well, even if Vitaly says he wants to marry Anya?” you joked. 

Nikolai’s face dropped as soon as he heard the name. “Well DID HE NOW.” he growled. 

“Nik. he’s only four years old. I don’t think you need to worry about your daughter being taken away by the boy so soon.” you try to sooth your husband’s sour mood. “Besides, are you sure you want to take a toddler’s word so seriously?” 

“I don’t like the boy.”

“Just because who his father is?” you frowned. “Nik. We’ve been over this. He is in good hands now. He isn’t going to cause any more harm to anyone else. You know Mylène will make sure of it.”

Nikolai stayed silent.

“Besides, You know Chris will be the first one to go after him and the boy if anything happens.” you spoke up again as you patted your husband’s chest. 

“Maybe I should train my son to ward off anyone who comes near his sister..”

“Nik. I haven’t even given birth yet.” You deadpanned. 

“Forward planning.”

“Can you please not.” you sighed. “Maybe you should use your time to plan for more useful things…” 

“It is useful. Planning for the well-being of my daughter’s future.” Nikolai snorted. 

“Or spend a bit more time thinking about your wife’s happiness too.” you cock an eyebrow, toying with his gold chain.

Nikolai immediately took the hint.

“Anya!” He yelled across the room. Anya turned around, halting her conversation with the soldier. “Go to your тётя Olga’s office, Papa and Ma will be a bit busy until dinner time…”

Zhar ended up babysitting Anya until the next morning. 

дядя - Uncle тётя - Aunty

@homicidal-slvt @nrdmssgs @siilvan @roosterr @preciouslittlecreature @gamergirlbonestaskforce141riot @whydoilikewhump @alypink @ashwasherelol @okayyadriana @liyanahelena @miyabilicious @celshideout  @abbeyrjm-blog @shyravenns @okamimarta @gazs-blue-hat @merkitty49 @cumikering

[thepaperpanda]

Just a kitten || Dabi x Hawks

Summary: One day, Keigo comes home with a tiny kitten he found on the streets during heavy rain. Determined, he does his best to persuade Dabi to agree to let the kitten stay with them

Warnings: cuteness overload 😻

Word count: 3117

Authors: Cass & Bear

Rain poured relentlessly outside as Keigo trudged wearily back to the shared apartment he called home. Shivering slightly from the chill that clung to his damp clothes, he slipped through the door, eager to find solace in the comfort of his own space. However, as he stepped inside, he couldn't help but notice the piercing gaze of Touya, his roommate and secret lover, who sat perched on the couch, his turquoise eyes gleaming with curiosity.

Suppressing a nervous smile, Keigo attempted to conceal something concealed under his jacket, the source of his clandestine mission to the bathroom. It was a task he was determined to complete with utmost secrecy, fearing Dabi's inquisitive nature and penchant for uncovering hidden truths. As he made his way past, he hoped against hope that his lover wouldn't detect the concealed object and unravel the surprise he had in store. "It's a little bit rainy today, isn't it?"

"Seriously? A weather talk? That's a new low for you," Dabi muttered, giving Hawks a disapproving look with a raised eyebrow. "As a spy, you can't seem to act natural whatsoever."

"Hey, Dabi," Hawks called out, his voice betraying a hint of urgency, as he maneuvered swiftly towards the bathroom. "How was your day?"

"It was all good until you showed up, acting so strangely," he said, his frown deepening as he scrutinized Keigo from head to toe. "Something feels off."

Meanwhile, Hawks skillfully locked the bathroom door behind him, a mischievous glimmer in his eyes. He couldn't let his guard down for even a moment, as he aimed to conceal his secret mission from prying eyes. With a quick glance around, he breathed a sigh of relief, assuring himself that the coast was clear.

As water droplets cascaded from his dampened clothes onto the bathroom tiles, Hawks knew he had to act swiftly. Unveiling a little, soaked kitten from beneath his jacket, he gazed at the animal with a mixture of excitement and nervousness. "It's fine, little one. Let's dry you up."

Touya wasn't as clueless as Keigo, though he could have his moments. He let out an irritated sigh and stood up from the couch, trailing behind Keigo as he headed to the bathroom. There, he listened for a moment, furrowing his brows. "Oi! Are you communicating with your clothes now?!" Touya attempted to open the door but found it locked. "What's gotten into you today?" he growled, banging on the door.

Startled by Dabi's unexpected attempt to breach his privacy, Keigo froze, his heart pounding in his chest. He frantically tried to compose himself, realizing that his attempts at secrecy had been abruptly shattered. Taking a deep breath to regain his composure, he spoke with a mixture of exasperation and pleading. "Wait! Just a minute, Dabi!" Keigo's voice wavered slightly, the urgency evident in his tone. "I... I need a moment, can you please grant me that? Just go to the living room." Frustration laced his words, a tinge of irritation creeping into his voice. The lack of privacy within the confines of their shared abode was beginning to grate on his nerves.

"Oh, that wasn't suspicious at all," Touya muttered with another annoyed sigh. Turning around, he took a few steps away. Touya decided to wait nearby, curious to see what was going on.

With the kitten now comfortably dried and wrapped in a soft towel, Hawks took a moment to collect himself, stealing a quick glance at his reflection in the bathroom mirror. Assured that he appeared composed, he cautiously opened the door and stepped out, only to be startled by Dabi's unexpected presence nearby. Hawks nearly jumped, his surprise evident in his widened eyes and a faint blush tinting his cheeks. He cleared his throat, attempting to regain his composure despite the sudden encounter. "I asked you to wait in the living room, didn't I?" Hawks' voice carried a mix of mild exasperation and lighthearted reproach, his gaze meeting Dabi's with a hint of playful annoyance.

"And when did I start listening to you?" Dabi asked, tilting his head with a frown and arms crossed over his chest. "So? What got your feathers all so ruffled?"

Letting out a soft sigh, Keigo's exasperation melted away as he shifted his focus to the adorable bundle in his hands. Gingerly, he unwrapped a portion of the towel, revealing a tiny, trembling kitten nestled within. Its wide eyes and delicate form tugged at his heartstrings, reminding him of the vulnerability and innocence contained within such a small creature. "They did," Keigo whispered, his voice filled with a mixture of tenderness and awe.

"A cat? Seriously?," Dabi asked with a scoff. "That's the reason you act like a weirdo? Is it some kind of birds of prey thing? Does your bird brain compel you to bring stuff home?"

A frown creased Hawks' features in response to Dabi's words, his voice carrying a touch of hurt. "You can be so cruel sometimes, you know that?" Keigo's tone held a hint of frustration and weariness, his patience worn thin by the constant jabs and nicknames. He was tired of the playful mockery. "Stop calling me names, Mr. Patchwork," he muttered, his voice laced with a mix of annoyance and a plea for understanding. Turning away, Keigo made his way to the living room, his wings flicking slightly to shed the lingering water droplets.

"Mr. Patchwork, how original," Dabi rolled his eyes, following him. "You wiped that thing, but you are still dripping wet. You seriously have a bird brain."

After these words Dabi went to find a towel, then he came back and started to pat Keigo's wings dry.

"Thank you," Keigo replied with a tiny smile, his attention focused completely on the tiny cat. "We are keeping them, Dabs."

"No fucking way," Dabi said, simply putting the towel on Keigo's head to dry his hair. "One big annoying bird is enough. We don't need any four legged pet in here."

"Daaabs!" Keigo's heart ached as he longed for Dabi's agreement to keep the precious feline. With a hint of desperation in his voice, he began to lay out his heartfelt arguments. "Dabi, please," Keigo implored, his tone tinged with vulnerability. "This kitten needs us. It needs a loving home, and we can provide that. We have the means to take care of it, and I've seen how gentle and caring you can be. Just imagine the joy it will bring to our lives. We can create a space filled with warmth and compassion, not just for each other, but for this little life that has found its way into our path."

Dabi groaned, getting more and more pissed with Keigo's behavior. "Did you fly into a window recently or something? How do you imagine this?” He asked, ruffling Keigo's hair a bit too hard. "Sometimes we are out for days, you think they will be able to be alone for so long?"

"Dabi, I understand your worries, but we don't have to do this alone. We have friends who would be more than willing to lend a helping hand," Keigo proposed, his voice gentle yet resolute. "We can ask them to babysit the cat when needed, ensuring that we have the flexibility to balance our responsibilities and still provide a loving home for this little one."

Dabi laughed in a nasty way. "Oh! Yeah, I can see you walking up to my old man and being like, 'Endeavor-san... Please, take care of my kitten today' or you'll pass them to that weird rabbit chick. How pathetic," he took away the towel, making sure Keigo was completely dry. "Twice and Toga would probably be eager to take care of the kitten but I wouldn't trust them with such a small creature."

"Endeavour as a babysitter for a little kitten? Now that's an interesting image," Hawks quipped, a playful glint in his mismatched eyes. "Well, your vampire-like friend might surprise us," Keigo replied, a touch of lightheartedness in his voice.

"Not gonna happen," Dabi shook his head. "Why do you even want to keep them?"

Keigo settled himself on the couch, gently placing the little kitten by his side. He turned his gaze towards Dabi, his expression earnest and full of hope. "Dabi, please," Keigo implored, his voice laced with sincerity. "Look at this little one. Look at how it trusts us, how it seeks our care and affection. I can see the love in your eyes when you look at it, too. We can be its family, its guardians, its source of warmth and comfort."

"Honestly, once I had the same look. I looked at my parents expecting a lot and where it led me," Touya shrugged again, crossing arms over his chest. "It's just a cat, Keigo. It doesn't care about us. All it wants is food and warmth to not die. I bet it'll scratch me as soon as I get closer," Touya summed up, and to prove his point, he walked closer to the kitten and offered it his hand.

As the little kitten continued to tremble, its innate curiosity overcame its fear. It tentatively reached out, sniffing at Touya's hand with a delicate twitch of its tiny nose. Sensing the warmth emanating from him, the kitten found solace in his touch. With hesitant steps, it mustered the courage to climb onto Touya's palm, its small body curling up, seeking comfort and security.

This was so sweet and unexpected! Dabi huffed with a deep frown, trying his best to not show how he really felt about that.

Carefully, he picked the kitten up and put his other hand over them to warm them up more effectively.

His eyes moved to Keigo who was looking at him with a stupid grin and sparkles in his eyes. "What? They are still not staying here. You can nurse them to good health and find them a home. Who wouldn't adopt a kitten from Japan's number two hero?" Dabi mocked him a little. "I really have enough of one chicken making a mess here, I don't need a kitten in this mess as well."

As the little kitten nestled into Dabi's palm, its trembling form gradually subsided, finding comfort in the warmth and security offered by his touch. It let out a feeble attempt at a meow, the sound resembling more of a tiny squeak, as it expressed its contentment.

Keigo's gaze turned earnest as he locked eyes with Dabi, a silent plea reflecting in his expression. "Dabi, look at them," Keigo implored, his voice filled with a mix of conviction and tenderness. "They have already found a place in their heart for you. Can you deny them the love and care they deserve? They've chosen us, and it's our responsibility to provide them with a safe and loving home."

"I had a pretty good example that I indeed can deny them the love and care they deserve," he chuckled dryly, petting the kitten on the head with his thumb. "Did they really pick you or you just found it and snatched it from the streets?"

Hawks' lips curled into a gentle smile, his heart warmed by the sight of the tiny bundle of fluff in Dabi's palm. "I saw this little one almost drowning in a puddle," he recounted softly, his voice tinged with a mix of compassion and determination. "They were so small, and with the heavy rain today, I couldn't bear to leave them to fend for themselves. As a pro hero, it's my duty to save lives, whether they be humans or animals," Keigo continued, his eyes shining with sincerity. "This little kitten needed someone to lend a helping hand, and I couldn't ignore their plea for help. They needed a chance at life, and I couldn't turn away."

"God, you make me sick with all the hero talk. 'I saved it from drowning' wasn't enough? I didn't need this whole speech they teached you in school or something," Touya said with a disgusted grimace, still stroking the kitten's head. "They can stay until they're better. After that, you'll find them home."

____________

As the days passed, Keigo couldn't help but smile in quiet contentment, observing Dabi's interactions with the little feline. He cherished the moments they spent together, watching as their bond grew stronger with each passing day.

However, as time went on, Keigo's busy schedule began to catch up with him once again. Overworking himself had become an all-too-familiar routine, and one morning, he woke up to find that he had overslept. Panic set in when he realized that it was already half past 8am, and he hurriedly got out of bed, determined to get ready for the day.

His heart skipped a beat as he scanned the room, his eyes searching for the little kitten. But to his immense surprise, the little feline was nowhere to be found. His heart sank, worry gnawing at his thoughts as he wondered where the kitten could have gone. Had he gotten out of the room somehow? Did he need help?

Dabi slept peacefully until he heard Keigo running around like a headless chicken. He was laying on his belly with arms crossed under his head, but soon Keigo's thrashing around pissed him off. "Did you fucking lost your head or something?! Get to bed or go to your fucking job and let me sleep!” He groaned not even raising his head.

"Kitty! He's gone! Move your ass and help me look for him!"

Dabi just raised his head and there was the kitten, sleeping quietly on his pillow in his arms. "Happy now? Can you be quiet now?"

Relief washed over Keigo as he discovered the little kitten snuggled comfortably with Dabi. His initial shock quickly gave way to a mixture of exasperation and affection. He scolded Dabi, "My God, don't do that again!" Keigo chided, but a soft smile softened his reprimand. He couldn't help but feel grateful that the kitten was safe and sound, finding comfort in Dabi's presence.

Sitting on the edge of the bed, Keigo observed the endearing scene before him. The kitten yawned, its tiny eyes blinking open. In response, the little feline snuggled even closer to Dabi, seeking warmth and affection.

Keigo's heart swelled with tenderness as he watched the bond between Dabi and the kitten. It was clear that they had grown fond of each other, and he couldn't help but feel a sense of gratitude for this newfound addition to their home. As he reached out to gently stroke the kitten's soft fur, he couldn't help but marvel at how this little creature had brought even more warmth and love into their lives. "Today I'll speak with one girl who is interested in taking him home."

"Cool. You gotta tell her the offer isn't up to anymore," Dabi shrugged and nuzzled his nose against the kitten's head. "Sucks to be her, but he isn't going anywhere."

Keigo's frown deepened as he rose from the bed, his voice tinged with a mix of frustration and disappointment. "Wait a second. You were the one who didn't want to deal with the cat," he pointed out, his annoyance evident in his tone. "I've already made all the arrangements, man, and the girl from the other city is coming to pick him up."

"I don't care, I am not giving him away. I can even scare her off if needed," Touya summed up. "He's staying with us."

Keigo's voice carried a mix of confusion and frustration as he confronted Dabi about his change of heart. "Why did you change your mind, huh?" he asked, his tone tinged with exasperation. "You were so adamant that we didn't need a cat, that he couldn't stay with us. And now, you don't want to give him away?"

"No," Dabi said, simply hugging the kitten. "I'll burn anyone who will try to take my boy away, even you, chicken brain," Dabi warned and like nothing would ever happen he got comfortable and attempted to get some more sleep.

"So he's your boy already, huh? Oh, Touya, you're such a softie."

"I am a softie and you are late. Get the fuck out."

As Keigo smiled to himself, he couldn't help but feel a sense of warmth and contentment in his heart. Before leaving the room, he leaned down and planted a soft kiss on Dabi's cheek, the gesture filled with affection and appreciation. "My little softie," he teased gently, a playful glint in his eyes.

With a parting glance at the adorable scene before him, Keigo left the apartment, giving Dabi some space to think about their decision.

The kitten, seemingly awakened by the gentle exchange, let out another adorable yawn before stretching its tiny body. It looked up at Dabi with its innocent eyes, seemingly unfazed by the potential changes in its living situation. Playfully, it tapped Dabi's nose with its little paw, as if to say, "Hey, I'm here, and I love you too!"

Dabi hummed and opened one eye. "Oh? Are you hungry, little one? Are you?" He asked, nuzzling his nose against the kitten's head and kissing it.

With newfound energy, the kitten hopped off the bed, its tiny form brimming with friskiness and curiosity. It trotted towards the kitchen through the open door, meowing occasionally.

A little reluctantly, Dabi got up from bed and followed the little kitten to the kitchen. There, he grabbed him and lifted him onto the counter to feed him. "We need to give you a name. You can't be a kitten all the time."

The kitty meowed loudly, instantly rubbing his chin over Dabi's palm, purring.

He put some of the cat food into a bowl. "Eat up, little buddy.'

Kitty sat by the bowl and quickly finished his meal, purring.

Dabi looked at kitten and booped his little nose. "How about Nori? Do you like it?"

The kitty purred loudly, trying his best to climb Dabi's shoulder.

"I'll take it as a yes," Touya simply picked the kitten up and helped him on his shoulder. "Comfortable?"

As the tiny kitten settled comfortably on Dabi's shoulder, he seemed to find a sense of security and peace. He curled up into a ball, content in his new perch, and within moments, his little body relaxed into slumber. The rhythmic rise and fall of his breath against Dabi's neck created a soothing melody, and the soft purring sound further affirmed his trust and affection for his human companion.

Dabi smiled, at least now he could go back to sleep, so that's exactly what he did.

He returned to the bedroom and carefully laid back down, taking Keigo’s pillow to rest his head on.