#thank you again so much you're too sweet!!

[reignpage]

piggybacking on the banana question, if they all got to run the train what order would they go in?? 🙏🙏🙏

(i just wanna know where you’d put nanami tbh)

I LOVE THIS QUESTION

Choso: cause he'd be the virgin of the group. they'd think of it as initiation and would want him to experience the very best on his first time. I imagine nanami would likely have to guide his dick in because he keeps missing the whole, would mutter encouragements and instructions. everyone would even shout out tips like 'hey cho, slap her pussy she likes that' or 'choso ma boi, grind your hips, oh yeah just like that, hear her moans? she fucking loves that shit'. he'd be passed out on the side from the overwhelmingness of it all, probably drooling babbling about how great pussies are

Nanami: would go next, his case being that he's got things to do so let's just get it over with. truthfully he couldn't wait any longer. he talks you through it, describes all the things he's feeling, how you're so tight, the pleats and folds of your pussy, how beautiful you look. he fucks you like there's no one else in the room. they'd all start complaining about long he's taking and he'd roll his eyes but would make sure you cum first before he does. and then he never actually leaves, he just stays, brushing tears from your eyes and cooing for you to let him know if it gets too much

Sukuna: the fact that he's sharing at all is already making him on edge, so to be going third would piss him off. RIP your pussy bro. he's really getting all up in there, bruising you so badly you're gripping Nanami's arm whilst he smiles down at you for being so good. sukuna would slap your face (not too hard, just to get your attention) he'd tch! and start degrading the shit out of you. look at you making obscene noises from both lips like a whore. you love the attention don't you? bet you want all of your holes filled up, you dirty girl. would probably demand someone plugs up your loud mouth. and after he cums inside, he'd force you to clean him up whilst the next one steps up

Geto: if I had it my way he wouldn't even be in the room but whatever, dick is dick so who can complain. he's very sweet seeming, he wets his dick with your cum, doing a pussyjob, really getting you worked up so you beg for him and then he fucks into you slow. too slow. you start crying, complaining, screaming for him to fuck you hard. he laughs until everyone else gets mad at him for being too mean, like come on man, there are limits. so then he picks up the pace and he even pats your pussy and thanks it for doing a good job.

Gojo: insisted he goes after geto. says he wants his bestie to go first but really he just wanted to fuck you with his dick drowning in geto's cum. that really gets him going. really mean too, would mock the faces and sounds you make until you're pouting through the tears that he's just like geto. and that man cums. he keeps cumming too cause geto comes up behind him and guides his hips and keeps him fucking into you, whispering how poor little you didn't even get to cum yet

Toji: that man is a dirty dirty whore. he doesn't care that other men's cum is dripping out of you. he's filthy. in fact, he'd eat you out before he slips it in. and he's bending you in all sorts of different positions. he even lifts you up so everyone can see your tits bounce, your eyes roll back, and your pussy take his cock again and again. man also walks over to choso and does it right in front of his face, asks him to lick your clit, and of course he does. pounds into you so hard you're dazed and delirious and when he asks who's fucking you best you're just screaming his name and everyone rolls their eyes

It just means they go for round 2 to prove who really is the best

[bnyf]

╭﹕୨୧﹒ yandere pirate x willing mermaid reader ♡

┊ warnings : yandere content and themes, unhealthy behaviors, relationship and relationship dynamic, suggestive, stalkholm syndrome, kidnapping, size difference

╰﹕୨୧﹒ authoress note : requested ♡ still having trouble writing smut but i'll get there! thank you anon for requesting apologies for how long this took ^_^

greedy fucking man. so, so greedy. he's so manly too. such an earthly being with all his earthly cravings. him and his men, moving from island to island to plunder every village and kingdom of it's golds, treasures and riches.

god, men were such pleasure bonded creatures. men are greedy.

and yet you admired them, and yet you loved them, wanted to be like them, walk in their shoes. you had no idea just how cruel men were. but you were about to find out.

you'd always swim up to the surface to watch humans, to study and observe what they were like. sure, your father had told you all the tall tales about how horrible humans were, yet you choose not to believe him. foolish.

worst yet, you wanted to be like those beings, which scared your father and made him ban you from going on the syrface again. but when did a dumb little fish like you ever listen to the echos of the back of the hallow head of yours? better yet, those who know better like your father?

exactly. that's why your now his property.

whomst? you may ask? the very same greedy pirate, that barbaric man, that your father warned you about.

you were not supposed to be on the surface, espcially at night. but you wanted to spy on the pirates who'd crashed in for the night. pirates don't usually park there boats up on land but when they do, it's probably to plot a raid.

and then little ole you got carried away, trying to steal a few goods from the humans when you were shamelessy caught by no other than the crew's captain. a large, muscular, bulk of a man. his eyes gave everything away though, those dark orbs held nothing but humanly desire and evil in them.

"well, well, well," his barren of a voice rumbled from his chest, speaking to you in a low tone. "are you lost, little mermaid? shh, it's alright dear, i won't hurt a sweet little thing like you. i promise. but, i won't return you either, since you're in my territory, you belong to me. finders keepers, amiright?"

he snatched you up like nothing and dragged you even further away from the ocean. and you helplessly wiggled in his grasp. from then on, he ordered his men to build a little portal fish tank, just good enough for you to fit and swin from point A to point B.

you were restricted heavily, being only allowed to see him and speak to him. any crewmate who dares hold any sort of interaction with you would be slaughtered mercilessly and their body thrown overboard. to say the captain was infatuated with you would be a mere understatment. that man wanted to curl up into your mind and preoccupy it 24/7.

you were treated like a pet. fed, bathed, and completely taken care of, all your needs and wants were meet each time, all you had was to do was say it and he'd present it. he has too much gold, jewels, diamonds, lavish silks, treasures, ect. anyways. he doesn't like sharing but now with his littld mermaid darling here? he might as well rip out his heart and present it to you. he wants to share his entire life with you, and hopefully you'd want that too right?

his words like poison, his calloused hands that have killed to many to count always wrapped around you, those insane eyes drinking you down like a gold glass of water on a sunny day, and his long beautiful unkept hair, braids messt and all tickling your face.

his voice made you wonder if he were a siren in disguise.

"have you had enough for the evening darling? or is your appetite insatiable like mines?" he cracked a chuckle, his lips touching your ears. that man did not care if he was wetting his clothes everytime he had to get phsyical with you. and that meant two things actually, if you know what i mean~

you of course noded. at this point you've accepted this and have become completely compliant. you were strange to him. sure. women would fling themselves at him, he had no qualms with getting laid but you? you were confused, then curious, now complaint and it made him wonder if you wanted this all along.

it made him confident actually. he didn't hold back to be weird, touchy or crazy over you. because you liked it, right? you loved when his hands roamed your body, when he explored you, his crazy words like "if you dare look at another man on this boat i'll punish you serverly... after i've killed that motherfucker of course."

and

"you belong to me, you're sole purpose is to bear my children, entertain me, and enjoy all the amazing pleasures this world has to offer. do you understand? if you do, say 'yes husband'."

and you did. you nod in agreement to him and uttered those words like it was nothing. he loved you for that. he didn't have to do to much to break you, you were already broken to begin with.

but he wanted to see just how far gone you were... so, one lovely midnight, after a harsh day of pirate work (read: plundering, killing, raiding, conquring all that belonged to him, rightfully.) your beloved husband took you to the sea for the first time in ages, watching you seemlessly swim about as your scales on your tail shimmer like diamonds in the pale moonlight, and that beautiful iridescent color shines through it, as though it's almost transparent. he can see through your lower half a little like an angel fish.

he only marvels at your wonderfulness. but when you swam up to him, placing your hand on his beating chest and looking up at him with nothing but love and admiration. something in him just... snapped. you were so much smaller than him, most your body mass being your tail. his strong arms reach for your waist his mind was going insane with lust. a beautiful being like yourself had such feelings for him despite the fact that he kidnapped you and kept you away from society.

was it stalkholm syndrom?... well, whatever it was now he knew for sure you were just as insane as him and it wasn't just fear why you were complyubg to him.

there was no formalities whatsoever. not even a plain subtle kiss, he straight on kissed your lips and stuck his tongue inside your mouth. a wet, messy make out session before you'd feel his length poking you.

it will be an entirely long night for you both.

[livinggxd3adgirl]

Sukuna yearning for you back.. (part 1)

“Sukuna, that's your 6th shot. I think you're drunk enough” Urames worried voice hit Sukuna like a drum constantly going with no end in sight.

“I want to be black out drunk before she comes to get me” Sukuna downs another shot. His tab is only getting longer and pricey. Sukuna had one simple plan.

have you back in his arms where you belonged.

He lost you. That’s his fault and his alone. He was too dumb and immature to see that his angel truly was his only saving grace in this cruel world. First, sukuna thought that getting you gifts upon gifts and just bugging you would do something. It didn’t. So he started spam calling and texting you like you guys had never broken up. Though he knew he deserved the cold shoulder, it still hurt to see what his words and actions could do to his sweet angel.

So started the operation ”play the hopeless maiden.” (In yujis words)

A simple plan, really. Get Sukuna so drunk to the point he can barely see or think about anything else, but call you so you can take him home so Sukuna could talk to you and bring you back home. Easy, right? WRONG Sukuna got way too drunk way too fast. His sight blurry as you shuffled him into your car and drove off. He was practically seeing stars in his drunken state. But Sukuna knew that he only had one chance or else you would be gone like the wind again.

Fast forward to know…

He saw the panic in your eyes. Gloss painting over them. That’s when he knew he had you in the palm of his hand. All his again.

“Listen angel.. I know I was cruel, but these past months made me realize so much” sukuna thumbed at the tear that was already escaping your glassy eyes. How Sukuna missed this. Not being broken up or your tears, but the intimacy of it all. You sat there practically holding your ribs open, letting him see your heart. And so was he. Sukuna was never known for being gentle and vulnerable. But right now? He was letting you cut his chest open for dissection. He didn’t care at all because you deserved it. All of him is yours. His body, his mind, and soul.

“If you don’t want to be with me, okay.. you deserve better. But I, Ryomen Sukuna, will never leave you alone. Even if you get married to someone else, have kids and a house on the hill” His admission made you giggle through your tears and sniffles. “I’m ready to give you that and all more angel. I’m ready to bare myself out to you. I just want another chance.”

“Jeez kuna, you always knew how to make me cry” Even at a time like this, you tried joking.

“So.. Do I get another chance?” Sukunas sly smirk told you that he already knew the answer. But he meant it when he said that he was changing.

“Shut up and kiss me kuna”

MADE BY LIVINGGXD3ADGIRL

omg guys thank you so much for 1k likes. That genuinely warmed my heart so so so much. Likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated

[arxiwon]

Hi! May I request a yandere PSH fic? I just saw this on TikTok: 'Imagine Sunghoon as the craziest patient everyone calls a monster, whispering your name like a prayer.' (I luv dark romance :))) THANK YOUUU 🤍

Sanctuary of Sin | psh

(Yandere Sunghoon x Reader | Dark Romance | Smut | Psychological Obsession | Horror Elements)

The asylum had always felt like a cage.

Not just for the monsters locked inside—but for you.

Every time you stepped past the heavy iron doors, you felt it—the weight of a hundred staring eyes, the whispers slithering through the halls like ghosts. The patients were unpredictable, their minds shattered beyond repair. But none of them scared you.

None of them except him.

Park Sunghoon.

Patient 207.

The one the nurses refused to speak about, the one even the doctors feared.

"Stay away from him," they warned. "He’s not like the others. He’s… something else."

But no matter how much they tried to keep you from him—he always found a way to pull you in.

Because every time you walked past his cell, you heard it.

Your name.

"Y/N… Y/N… Y/N…”

Whispered like a prayer, over and over again, lips curling around every syllable with a fevered devotion that sent ice crawling down your spine.

You should have ignored it. Should have kept walking.

But that night… you didn’t.

That night, something inside you snapped.

You stopped.

And that was your first mistake.

The second was looking into his eyes.

They were waiting for you in the darkness, pale silver, gleaming beneath the dim, flickering light of his cell. He was seated on the floor, hands in his lap, bound in metal restraints. He was supposed to be harmless, yet the way he watched you made your blood turn thick and heavy in your veins.

His lips curled into a slow, dangerous smile.

"You're finally looking at me."

His voice was hoarse, rough—like he had been whispering your name for hours. Maybe days. Maybe longer.

"You know me?" you whispered, throat suddenly dry.

A slow exhale left his lips. His head tilted, pure delight flickering across his face, strands of silver hair falling over his forehead.

"Know you?" A low chuckle rumbled in his chest. "Sweetheart… I breathe you. I dream you. I bleed you."

Your breath hitched.

Then—he lifted his hands.

Your name was carved into his flesh.

Deep, jagged letters ripped into his own skin, fresh blood trailing down his wrists.

You stumbled back.

"Wh—what the hell—"

"Shhh…" His voice was soothing, almost sweet. "You don’t have to be afraid. This… This was meant to happen."

Your heart slammed against your ribs. "You're insane."

His smile widened.

"And yet, you’re still here."

The air shifted.

A loud BEEP.

Then—darkness.

The power shut down.

The iron restraints around his wrists clicked open.

And then—he moved.

Before you could even scream, he was on you.

A blur of motion, cold fingers wrapping around your throat, pinning you against the wall. The breath was knocked out of you, the sheer force of his body pressing flush against yours.

Your legs trembled. He was strong. Too strong.

But what made your blood run cold—was the look in his eyes.

"Finally," he whispered, thumb caressing your pulse. "You’re mine."

Your breath hitched as his lips brushed against your jaw, his nose dragging painfully slow over your skin.

"Sunghoon—"

"Shhh…" His grip tightened, forcing your head back, exposing the vulnerable curve of your neck. His mouth hovered just above your pulse. His breath was cold, but the way his lips parted—hungry, desperate—sent fire licking through your veins.

"You smell so sweet," he murmured. "So warm. So… delicate."

A slow drag of his tongue over your pulse.

A low, satisfied groan against your skin.

You should have fought him off—but your body betrayed you.

Heat coiled deep in your stomach, your thighs clenching on their own as his fingers traced down your sides, slow and deliberate.

"Are you wet for me, sweetheart?" His voice was nothing but sin.

You choked on a gasp. "You’re insane."

His fingers dipped lower. Slid between your thighs.

And then—pressed against your core.

Through the thin fabric of your pants, he felt it.

The dampness. The heat.

His lips curled.

"You are."

Your whole body burned.

With shame. With fear.

With something else.

"You want me," he whispered, dragging slow circles over your clit, just enough to make you tremble. "Even if you’re too afraid to say it."

Your hands gripped his wrists, trying to push him away—but he was relentless. His fingers slipped past the waistband of your pants, dipping beneath your panties, and—

"Fuck—"

A satisfied chuckle against your throat.

"So warm," he murmured, sliding a finger through your slick folds. "So fucking wet."

His finger pushed inside, slow, teasing, curling against that sweet, aching spot.

Your whole body arched.

He felt it. Heard the tiny, broken gasp that escaped your lips.

And his eyes darkened.

"You’re squeezing me so tight, sweetheart," he groaned, pumping his finger deeper, pressing right against that spot that made you whimper. "You like this, don’t you?"

His thumb rubbed slow, lazy circles over your clit, building the heat, driving you insane.

"I could make you come just like this," he whispered, licking against your ear. "So messy. So desperate."

Your thighs trembled around his hand, your body betraying you.

"Come for me, sweetheart," he purred. "Let me hear you."

And then—he bit down.

His teeth sank into your neck, the sharp pain colliding with the pleasure—

And you snapped.

The orgasm tore through you, waves of heat crashing over you as you shuddered in his grip. Your breath hitched, a broken moan spilling from your lips as he licked over the fresh bite, soothing the wound with his tongue.

His chest rose and fell, breath ragged, his cock pressing against your stomach, aching for more.

"I told you, sweetheart."

His fingers lifted, coated in your release.

"You belong to me."

The air was thick—dense with the scent of sweat, metal, and something primal.

Your body was still trembling from your orgasm, your breath coming in ragged, broken gasps as you sagged against the wall.

But Sunghoon wasn’t finished with you.

Not even close.

He was still pressed against you, his chest rising and falling in slow, deliberate breaths. His silver eyes were blown wide with hunger, his lips parted—slick with your taste and your blood from where he had bitten you.

But it wasn’t enough.

It would never be enough.

"Look at you." His voice was low, taunting, thick with dark amusement. "Already falling apart, and I haven’t even fucked you yet."

His hands tightened around your hips, his fingers digging into your skin brutally, leaving marks—evidence of his claim.

Your thighs clenched instinctively, trying to press together—trying to gain control over the heat still burning between your legs.

But Sunghoon saw.

And he smirked.

"No, no, sweetheart," he murmured, forcing your legs apart with his knee. "Don’t hide from me. Not when I already know how fucking wet you are."

Your breath hitched as his fingers ghosted over your inner thighs, teasing, taunting, not nearly enough.

You hated him.

You hated him for making your body react like this. For making you ache for his touch.

"Tell me you want me." His voice was smooth, intoxicating, but underneath it was something sharp, something dangerous. "Say it, or I won’t give you what you need."

You clenched your jaw, refusing.

But then—he pressed against your clit again.

Your body jerked, a choked gasp escaping your lips as he rolled slow, lazy circles over your sensitive bud.

His smirk widened.

"Stubborn little thing."

He suddenly ripped your pants down your legs, the cold air hitting your soaking folds, making you shudder.

And then—he dropped to his knees.

You barely had time to react before his tongue was on you.

A sharp cry tore from your throat, your hands flying to his hair, trying to push him away—but he didn’t budge.

His hands were iron around your thighs, locking you in place as his tongue dragged through your slick folds, slow and torturous.

"Fuck—" you gasped, back arching against the wall.

Sunghoon groaned, the sound vibrating straight through your core.

"Taste so fucking good," he murmured against you, voice wrecked. "Better than I ever imagined."

His tongue flicked over your clit, sharp and relentless, his lips sucking, his teeth scraping just enough to make you cry out.

You were losing it.

Your fingers clenched in his hair, tugging, but instead of pulling away—he moaned against you, the vibration sending another wave of heat rolling through your body.

"Go on," he purred, licking up your slick before plunging his tongue inside you, "Use me."

You were already so close again, your thighs shaking, your breaths coming in sharp, shattered gasps.

"Sunghoon—"

"Mmm, say my name just like that when you come, sweetheart," he rasped, voice hoarse. "Let me hear you."

His tongue pressed deeper, curling inside you—

And then—you snapped.

The orgasm crashed over you, your body trembling as your moans echoed through the empty halls.

Sunghoon groaned, lapping up every drop, his fingers bruising into your thighs as he held you in place, drinking in every shake, every whimper, every breathless cry.

When he finally pulled away, his lips were glistening, his eyes wild.

"So pretty when you fall apart for me," he murmured, standing up, towering over you. "But I’m not done with you yet."

His hands grabbed your wrists, pinning them above your head as he kicked your legs apart.

Your breath hitched. His cock was pressing against your entrance, thick and aching, the heat of it making your head spin.

"You want me to be gentle?" His voice was soft, teasing—mocking. "You think I’m going to take my time with you, make love to you?"

A slow, wicked grin spread across his face.

"No, sweetheart."

His lips brushed against your ear, his next words sending a shiver down your spine.

"I’m going to ruin you."

Then—he thrust inside you.

A strangled gasp tore from your lips, your walls stretching to accommodate him, the brutal, unrelenting stretch sending white-hot pleasure crashing through your veins.

"Fuck—" Sunghoon groaned, his grip tightening on your wrists. "You’re so fucking tight, baby."

He pulled out almost completely—

Then slammed back in.

Your head threw back, a guttural moan escaping your lips as he set a brutal pace, his hips slamming into yours with raw, unhinged hunger.

"You were made for me," he growled, his lips biting into your neck. "You feel so fucking good wrapped around me, taking me so fucking deep."

Your nails dug into his back, your legs wrapping around his waist as he drove into you, the friction so intense it had you seeing stars.

"More—" you gasped, barely able to breathe. "Sunghoon, please—"

A dark chuckle rumbled in his chest.

"Begging for me already?" He snapped his hips forward, hitting so deep you screamed. "That’s right, sweetheart. You belong to me. Only me."

His fingers found your clit again, rubbing tight, relentless circles, dragging you closer, closer, closer—

"Come for me," he ordered, voice dangerous. "Now."

And you did.

Your orgasm hit like a freight train, your whole body arching, shaking, your walls clenching so tight around him that he cursed, hips stuttering—

Then, with a deep, wrecked groan, he spilled inside you, his warmth filling you to the brim.

He didn’t move for a long moment, his breath ragged, his lips pressing sloppy, open-mouthed kisses along your jaw.

"Mine," he whispered again, soft, but firm. "You’ll never leave me, right, sweetheart?"

You couldn’t answer. Couldn’t even think.

But Sunghoon just smiled.

Because he already knew the truth.

You were his.

And you always would be.

[wendichester]

I'm gonna be a little bit greedy because I loved the first one. 😁

I can't think of a particular situation, but can you just give me your best, heart-wrenching dean x reader angst? I know you'll do great cuz you write Dean so well.

Thanks love your stuff so much!

⊹ ࣪ ˖ ghost of you,

summary. you're gone and dean doesn't know how to cope

pairing. dean winchester x reader ; super angsty!

wordcount. 499

notes. first, thank you for the leap of faith!!! i hope this manages to bring a tiny tear to your eyes ehe 🥺

Dean Winchester is good at losing people.

He’s been doing it his whole life.

His mom. His dad. Jo. Ellen. Bobby. Cas.

And now you.

You, who was supposed to be the exception. The one person he swore he wouldn’t lose, the one person he couldn’t lose, because if he did—

If he did, there’d be nothing left of him.

But life doesn’t care about what Dean Winchester swears.

It takes anyway.

He doesn’t remember much about the hunt.

He remembers blood. Your blood.

Pooling beneath you, warm and red and so much, spilling through his fingers as he pressed down, as he begged—

"Stay with me, sweetheart, c’mon, please—”

You were shaking. Your lips were turning pale. But you still managed to smile, soft and sad.

“Dean,” you whispered, and he almost screamed, because it sounded too much like goodbye.

But you died before he could make you promise it wasn’t.

The worst part isn’t the funeral. It isn’t the silence, the emptiness, the quiet ache of absence in every part of his life.

It’s the almosts.

The moments where he forgets.

Like when he’s driving, and he sees something stupid on the side of the road and thinks, She’s gonna love this, only to remember—

You’re gone.

Or when he wakes up after a hunt, body sore, reaching for you without thinking—

Only to find the other side of the bed cold.

Or when he hears someone laughing, and for half a second, his heart lifts, convinced it’s you—

Only for the world to gut him again.

You haunt him more than any ghost ever could.

Sam worries.

Dean knows he does. He sees it in the way his brother watches him, cautious and quiet, waiting for the day Dean breaks.

But there’s nothing to break.

One night, Dean dreams of you.

Not in the way he usually does—not memories, not shadows, not echoes of the past.

You’re there.

Standing in the bunker’s kitchen, barefoot and beautiful, wearing one of his old shirts, looking at him like he’s the only thing in the world that matters.

“Hey, baby,” you say, soft and sweet, like nothing’s changed.

Dean can’t breathe.

He rushes toward you, grabs your face, touches your skin like he’s trying to memorize the way it feels before you disappear again.

You don’t disappear.

You lean into him, warm and real, fingers tracing the lines of his jaw. “I’m here.”

Dean swallows hard. His vision blurs.

“This isn’t real,” he whispers.

You smile. “No.”

And then, quieter—

“But I wish it was.”

Dean squeezes his eyes shut, presses his forehead to yours. “I can’t do this without you.”

You kiss him. Soft and slow and final.

“Yes, you can.”

When he wakes up, there’s an ache so deep inside him that he doesn’t know how he’s still breathing.

But he does.

Because that’s all he can do.

Because no matter how much he loves you—

No matter how much he misses you—

Ghosts don’t come back.

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[sanospet]

✩ GAME OVER ✩

𝘱𝘢𝘪𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 - 𝘎𝘈𝘔𝘌𝘙!𝘚𝘏𝘐𝘎𝘈𝘙𝘈𝘒𝘐 𝘛𝘖𝘔𝘜𝘙𝘈 𝘟 𝘙𝘌𝘈𝘋𝘌𝘙

𝘲𝘶𝘰𝘵𝘦 : collecting the nectar, you pressed them to his lips with a smile, following the actions he often displayed to you, tomura letting you set your digits on his tongue with a playful roll of the eyes, lapping at the liquid as you pulled them out with a sweet pop, "you're having too much fun," hitched breath cutting his words short as your fingers clasped around his length, pumping, a breathy moan all that he could manage. "you look so pretty like this, can you really blame me ?" whispering, tomura's skin burning as your lips grazed his ear, his mind whirring as the 'game over' screen's music echoed off of the walls. eyes squeezed shut, face contorting in bliss, a thin layer of sweat offering subtle highlights to his skin as you worked him, your thumb circling his tip, giving gentle squeezes.

warnings and notes!

18+ . mdni . smut . pwp . quirkless au . gamer tomura x gamer reader . oral (amab & afab receiving) . handjob . deep throating . edging . cum denial . fingering (afab receiving) . tomura lets the reader dom him a little . casual sex . they’re playing ff15 (heavily mentioned throughout but you don’t need to really know the game to read this imo) . whiny/pouty reader . usage of nicknames (“kid” , “baby”, “love”) . teasing & lots of giggles . sweet filth . reader is afab . reader’s gender is mentioned . reader’s pronouns aren’t mentioned . reader’s sex is mentioned . proofread though there may still be some spelling mistakes, enjoy!

authors note!

i haven’t posted anything in months but i’ve been writing, lol. coming up with a lot of different concepts as well as sparsely working on the next chapter of “veiled blossoms”, it’s just kinda heavy so it’s hard to write, haha. i feel slightly rusty and as if this isn’t my best work but i hope it’s good enough, i’m treating it as a warm-up (?) of sorts, as i get back into my flow. a lot has been going on and a lot has happened in my life in the past few months, life-changing things and i’m just trying to navigate it all as well as tap into my creativity more frequently and freely again. thank you so much for reading, i deeply appreciate it and i hope you enjoy this quick read! <3

- linus

the dull buzz of the game console echoed off of the white walls of tomura's bedroom, the paint tinted with a soft blue hue alongside the posters which adorned them, due to the television. the soft knocks of the knobs on the controller among the gentle, yet frustrated, grunts that slipped past tomura's lips offering a comforting ambiance, something you'd grown quite used to.

a subtle scowl, of which you were sure he was unaware, sewing his features together as noctis' movements slowed down on the screen for the nth time, tomura shifting to zap him to the nearest warp point, prompto falling in the meantime, leaving the low hp duo of gladiolus and ignis amidst the chaos of battle. your gaze shifting between the screen, tomura, and the urgency of his thumbs as countless coeurl's shredded through his team, depleting their health further as tomura frantically distributed health potions to evade death.

rigid posture cushioned by an array of pillows, tomura's gaze remained fixed on the screen before him, eyes darting from the gameplay to the wavering health status of each member, concentrating deeply, a slight furrow in his brow. he sat upright, alert, on edge almost, in contrast to your laying form beside him, attempting to watch his gameplay earnestly, yet failing to do so.

with his over-washed, slightly faded band-tee riding up his torso, almost matching the one you'd currently adorned, having stolen it out of his closet earlier that day. the shoulder seams hanging slightly lower on your arms than they ever did his, the faint musky scent embedded within the threading, mixing with the wafting vanilla candle you had lit not too long ago, offering a sweet sense of solace. with the thin trail of hair peaking beneath his shirt, exposed by the sliver of skin that was on display, crawling beneath the hem of his underwear, you'd found it increasingly difficult to keep your eyes straight before you.

you loved watching tomura game, just as much as he loved watching you. sessions filled with giggles and exasperated sighs, pushing the controllers into each others hands once things got too frustrating, celebrating your joint wins with high-fives and gentle kisses. yet, your offer to take over had been declined this time around, tomura refusing to let his pride wane in the face of his third "game over" screen, a controlled sigh leaving his lips as he entered the bounty's vicinity once more, teeth gritted.

niveous tendrils framing his soft features, shaggy hair resting on the tense, slightly raised, muscles of his shoulders. tomura's skin was slightly illuminated amidst the dark surroundings, ruby gaze darting across the screen in focus. his grip on the controller tightening as he moved with fervour, jaw clenching. your sight trailing over his disgruntled form, a small smile playing on your lips at the display.

tomura had the unyielding tendency to get riled up whilst gaming, often vocal in his distresses and victories, his concentrated glare on the screen something you'd grown quite fond of, bottom lip tucked between his teeth, immersed.

fingers lifting, moving to tuck loose tendrils behind his ear, earning a soft smile from the other, his muscles seeming to ease up slightly at the subtle action. touch shifting toward his exposed skin, drawing shapes on the flesh of his abdomen as your lips met his neck, tomura's head cocking to the side, offering more access, a shaky breath leaving his lips. "you're distracting me, kid," voice laced with gravel, your lips grazed his ear and he could feel your smirk against him "would you like me to stop ?" words whispered, a kitten lick, the tip of your tongue gently dragging up the edge of his ear, goosebumps rising in response to your touch, breath offering warmth to his skin, "i never said that," through a controlled exhale, "just continue on for me, then, love," setting a gentle kiss to his cheek.

fingers inching beneath the fabric of his joggers, resting upon the cloth of his boxers, you began to palm his most sensitive part, lips moving against the rough skin of his neck delicately, offering pecks and soft suction, marking him, a sharp gasp leaving tomura's chest. motions slow, grating, softly chuckling as he spoke, "you know i hate teasing, baby," a small scoff, brows knitting, "you tease me all the time," you pushed, "that's different," shrugging, tone relaxed, "is not!" you retorted, "and you never let up, no matter how much i beg," lips curling in response to your pout saturated words, his gaze remaining locked onto the screen, "i don't beg, kid," a gentle shake of his head as he spoke.

your fingers moving to slip from beneath his clothing, his hand leaving the controller, flying to catch your wrist, slowly turning meeting your gaze. with a taunting a quirk in your brow, smirk sewing your features, you sat in wait, teeth chewing the inside of his cheek as he took a beat, sighing in defeat, "please, baby," the words dripping with plead, guiding your grip beneath the layer of his dampened underwear, pre-cum soaking through the thin fabric, the sweetly spoken words sweeping a rosy blush across his cheeks, "anything else ?" you teased, head cocking to the side, a small smile curling his lips at the prod, "thank you," your nose brushing past his with a small smile, setting a kiss to his lips as his gaze returned to the screen, unpausing, "you're lucky i'm nicer than you are," a chuckle leaving his lips, "aren't i just."

shifting his hips as you pulled down the constricting pieces of fabric, a sharp hiss slipping past his lips as your fingers grazed the tip of his hardened cock gently. collecting the nectar, you pressed them to his lips with a smile, following the actions he often displayed to you, tomura letting you set your digits on his tongue with a playful roll of the eyes, lapping at the liquid as you pulled them out with a sweet pop, "you're having too much fun," hitched breath cutting his words short as your fingers clasped around his length, pumping, a breathy moan all that he could manage. "you look so pretty like this, can you really blame me ?" whispering, tomura's skin burning as your lips grazed his ear, his mind whirring as the 'game over' screen's music echoed off of the walls. eyes squeezed shut, face contorting in bliss, a thin layer of sweat offering subtle highlights to his skin as you worked him, your thumb circling his tip, giving gentle squeezes.

"fuck, you made me die..." through a laugh, it soon morphing into a chesty groan, a lazy, open-mouthed smile on his lips, "there's no way i'll be able to beat this when you're-" setting a gentle kiss to his tip with a change in position, licking a ring around it, offering gentle circles around it with a curved tongue before slipping his length into your mouth. pulling out, your gaze locking with his once more, your hand continuing to stroke him, "when i'm what ?" tone innocent with a cocked head in question, legs swaying in his playful kicks behind you.

"god, you're so annoying sometimes," through a choked giggle, earning one in turn from you as you set sweet pecks on his length, tomura's alertness dwindling. his gaze failing to stay on the screen for longer than a second, entranced by your performance, dusty rose setting deeply in his cheeks as your eyes fluttered shut, a loose smile hung on your features as your lips worked him, setting gentle kisses and kitten licks to his cock, soft moans slipping past your lips, offering subtle vibrations to his length as you took him into your mouth.

his core tightening at the sight of you seemingly worshipping his cock, goosebumps trailing his skin as your head bobbed, suppressed groans escaping his lips as your throat relaxed, nose kissing his pelvis in chase of his melodic sounds. the muscle contracting around his length as you choked, fingernails digging into your palms as you held yourself in position, a flurry of moans soon escaping his lips in tow. head thrown back, hips staggering, bucking reflexively as his back arched off of the slew of pillows in which it rested upon.

pulling back, a thin string of saliva, the only connection between the two of you before your hands moved to work him once more, gaze lifting to meet the screen behind you before shifting to him. lust swimming within the fire in his eyes, hot embers offering licks under his hooded gaze, piercing your skin with desire. tousled shaggy hair sticking to his skin, lips parted, pants falling from them with each breath he took. the pit of your stomach contorting at the sight, a small whimper threatening to leave your throat under the harsh gaze, tomura's trance like state snapping under your hooked forefinger, directing his attention back to the screen before him, "noctis is dying," a small gasp as his thumbs moved once more, "fuck-" through a chuckle as he gave him another elixir, "too distracting ?" you questioned, words laced thickly with tease, as you set a soft kiss to his tip once more, earning a small smirk from the man, "not at all," sarcasm drenching the reply.

a giggle leaving your lips at the snide remark, your hand shifting his own, threading his fingers through your locks, guiding your mouth onto him once more. tomura's free hand shifting to pause the movement on the screen, hips bucking as your throat relaxed around him, a whisper of a whimper falling from his chest as his hips rolled, head dropping back against the pillows once more as he used you. movements slow, inching deeper and deeper down your throat before pulling just up to his tip, pushing your head down once more with fervour, repeating the movements over, growing desperate as he continued. sweet, chesty groans falling from his lips, choked and growing in volume as the coil in his stomach tightened, your face deepening in rose as oxygen evaded you, fists tight, eyes squeezed shut as he decorated your throat with pearl.

with matching pants, your gaze met once more, the sight of his breathy and fucked out form erupting butterflies within your stomach, tomura thumbing your bottom lip in wait, the pond of his seed within your mouth inciting a smile from the man, needing nothing but for your eyes to meet once more to recognise his desires, soon displaying your tongue after a swallow. tomura's hand remained tangled within your hair, pulling you closer as your lips interlocked, tasting remnants of himself on your tongue as your lips moved.

pulling away, lazy gaze raking over your features, your eyes filled with yearning, breaths intermingling as he smoothed a hand over your messy hair, "such a sweet girl," the soft words whispered, filled with praise as he tucked unruly strands behind your ear, rose dusting your cheeks, heart swelling as he spoke. shifting to lay you down against the pillows, "you wouldn't mind taking over for me, would you, baby ?" pushing the controller to your chest with a smirk, situating himself between your legs.

"you don't actually expect me to beat it, do you ?" brows knitting as the paused screen met you, "what, you don't think you can ?" teasing, setting a gentle kiss to your inner thigh, "t-that's unfair," you pushed, a ghost of a pout, "what was it you said earlier about you being kinder than i am ?" chuckling, "but listen, i'll be nicer this time, yeah ? a reward is in store," the words convincing, "well, can i at least know what i'm working toward ?" eyes round, pleading as his fingers drew shapes on your skin, "cumming."

a sharp intake of breath, "you wouldn't..." brows knitting as your bottom lip jut out just so, "and why wouldn't i ?" a smirk curling his lips, teasing, "i hate edging and you know that..." your whines met with a shrug of his shoulders, "and i hate being teased, but here we are, love," a soft laugh, tomura setting encouraging pats to your outer thigh, "you oughta be more confident, kid," your silence erupting another giggle from the man, "what, you gonna call me mean ?" head cocking, teasing, pain pout decorating his lips, "no need to say it if you already know it," murmured words earning another laugh, "stop pouting and play the game, kid."

tomura's fingers inched beneath your shirt at the click of the unpause button, soon resting atop your bare chest. kneading the mound, squeezing harshly, earning a wince as he tugged at your nipple, pinching and rolling it between his forefinger and thumb. his lips planting kisses between your thighs, teeth grazing the sensitive skin, leaving blossoming marks that matched his own.

tomura's stomach tightened, throat forming a lump at the sight of your underwear, the only bottoms you adorned beneath his oversized band tee. the dark patch of fabric clinging to your skin, outlining your folds with precision, the soaked cloth practically peeling away as he removed them. throwing your legs over his shoulders, hooded gaze flicking over to your frazzled form, shoulders tense as his nose dragged over your bundle of nerves ever so slowly, causing you to jerk slightly, swallowing a moan through a clenched jaw. "relax, baby," setting soothing strokes to your thigh, "and let me hear you."

pushing gentle kisses to your heat, curled tongue offering circular strokes, lips wrapping around your nub, adding the slightest bit of suction before pulling away with a wet pop. diving back in with laps, nose dragging your essence up and through your folds, his arms wrapping around your thighs, holding your shifty form in place as your thumbs moved against the controller, attempting to heal your team despite having only half the brain to pay attention.

tomura's head dipping lower, your gaze unable to stay on the screen as he made out with your most sensitive part, his eyes shut in bliss as he tongued your entrance, soft mewls escaping you at the act, the coil in your stomach tightening at the sight, tomura swiftly retracting at the dull hum of the 'game over' screen, a frustrated sigh leaving your lips at the act, head thrown back in defeat, earning a laugh from the man.

"fuck," through an exasperated breath, drawled out with a whine, earning a soft laugh from the man, "try again, love," your fingers shifting as you entered the bounty's vicinity once more, a ghost of a frown haunting your features. tomura's movements continued, earning somewhat of a cry as he slipped a finger in, your frazzled mind attempting to win as you haphazardly switched weapons, healing team members as best as you could, the coeurl's seemingly appearing in endless streams.

doubling the dosage, his fingers curled, hitting that spongey part that only he could ever reach, a sharp intake of breath was all you could muster as his thumb continued to stroke that sweet bundle of nerves, tomura peppering kisses along your thighs. a soft laugh leaving his lips as your hips began to roll, meeting his stride as moans sat heavy on your tongue, his mouth meeting your heat once more, the pace of his fingers quickening as he pumped you, your eyes squeezing shut as your walls squeezed around tomura's fingers and soon, nothing at all, eyes flying open with a frustrated whine.

"rules are rules, kid," offering soothing strokes to your stomach, a wicked glint in his eye, shrugging, "but it's just...it's hard when you're-" a smirk, "when i'm what ?" pitch high, tone mocking as his hands were on you again, resuming his prior movements, earning an eye roll and a disgruntled sigh, tomura laughing at that.

thumbs moving swiftly against the controller, you were down to one coeurl and fresh out of both potions and elixirs, heartbeat rising as noctis, the only moving member on your team, performed his warp attack, his health depleting rapidly. tomura's gaze shifting to the screen for but a moment, a soft smile on his face, "you're so close, kid, c'mon," he pushed, lips on you once more as you finished the last one off through gritted teeth, the controller soon hitting the bed with a bounce as you dropped it.

tomura allowing your fingers to thread through his locks as your hips rolled against his tongue with a fiery need, his fingers pumping you at an unforgiving pace. the coil in your stomach tightening for what seemed like the hundredth time, soon coming undone in waves, goosebumps rising on your skin as your body shook, a flurry of moans leaving your lips as tomura worked you through your high.

chest rising and falling, tomura hovered over you once more setting a soft kiss to your lips, "that's a good girl," lips grazing yours, "i think a bigger reward is in order, don't you ?" his hardened cock dragging between your folds, gaze hooded as he spoke, your eyes rounding with plead, "please..."

[followtheechoes]

FOUND AT LAST! thank you so much @eleceedlover for sending this to me!! it's a three part series and it's in the second part, so here are the links to each part:

Three Wheels: A Year for Secrets by Requiem17 | After Morgana's latest takeover attempt, things quiet down in Camelot…on the surface at least. [Canon Divergence, Post S4, Eventual Reveal] This story and its following two parts are revamped and posted on Ao3 under Three Wheels - Triskelion and the same penname. As of Aug '24, start on Ao3 and come back here at Part 2 if you're eager for the rest.

Three Wheels: The Year of Shadows by Requiem17 | Was he born Emrys, or is it a title to be earned? [Post S4, Canon Divergence, Eventual Reveal, Part 2/3]

Three Wheels: A Year for Strength by Requiem17 | Do you believe in prophecy, Merlin? Or do you make your own Fate? [Post S4, Canon Divergence, Reveal, Part 3/3]

And the ao3 link mentioned is here:

Three Wheels: Triskelion by Requiem17 | One month after Morgana seizes Camelot with Helios' armies, Gwen is crowned. Camelot almost knows a short period of peace, but for three small changes: Arthur follows through on a promise to a murdered druid boy. Merlin recognizes the insidiousness of complacency. And the Diamair foresees their own death.

In a journey that will take Merlin and his friends through the Veil into crystalline tunnels of golden magic, force them to revisit the trials of the Purge, and send them against Leshys, Shades, and dark magic itself- they all must decide whether they are brave enough to face their own fallacies and earn an age of gold.

Is Emrys born, or a title to be earned?

Do you rely on prophecy, or make your own fate?

some fics I found which are not the one I'm looking for but which still feature gwen, whether that means having her own agency as a character in a long fic or a brief character study (unfortunately it's usually the second):

A Heartbreaking Impossibility by Min Dae | Uther's ward needed a lady's maid. Morgana needed something else. Gwen is trying to figure out what she needs, somewhere in the middle.

Wonder What You Are by Capriccio. | There's a sadness in Gwen's eyes that wasn't there before. In the days following her father's death, Merlin sees very little of her. When he does catch her at the water pump or in the hallways, she turns away to hide her face. He can't think of what to say to make her smile again. (Set after 1x12.)

Night Piece by significantowl | It begins when their nights are once more their own, and neither Gwen nor Merlin sleep. [post-s1]

Untitled tumblr fic by @agapantoblu | This night, the happiness it pours into her, has to be the happiest she's felt in a long time. All the candles in the room are dancing and all the edges are dulled even when she bumps into them; her mouth is sweet with mulled wine, winter is held at bay outside the thick stone and Merlin is so, so warm.

Blood, Sweat, and Tears by tielan | It's not just her father's sword or the sword of the knight who made it - it's her sword, too.

nothing to fear for the day has broken by stanzas | She doesn’t know exactly when she realized it, but once the truth was presented to her, she couldn’t dismiss the idea any longer. Merlin used magic. Merlin had magic. And clearly he was mentally addled, like Arthur said – for why else would he be living in a place like Camelot?

a thief in mourning by killing_all_joy | Gwen manages to figure out that Merlin swapped Lancelot's cloak for a fake one when it was burned. She decides to ask him if she can have it, unaware of Merlin's connection with and love for Lancelot. / When she learns, they mourn together.

The Sword's Tale by Sydelle Rein | Or - "Guinevere's Astute Observational Skills As Conveniently Ignored by the Show." As Arthur holds the sword above his head and the crowd shouts its fealty, Gwen's eyes widen in recognition. 4x13

Destiny's Path by MonJoh | Following the events of Season 4, Arthur suspects the one person in the world he thought would never betray him. Merlin is forced to confront first hand the price of not returning magic to Camelot. Morgana faces her own failures.

something blue by alittleacatalepsy | As the royal wedding approaches, Merlin searches for items requested by a magical rhyme, Gwen crafts two gowns and contemplates loyalty, and Arthur is just doing his best.

Queen of Swords by reelin_writer | Guinevere is not in the bed. She is in the far chamber, just visible through the archway, using his sword to practice drills up and down the narrow length of space beside the table. / Or, Arthur realizes his wife has been practicing and is instantly starstruck by this new common passion.

Selfish by donttouchtheneednoggle | "Perhaps there is not one among us who has not lost a person they would like to speak with. People we didn’t even get to say goodbye to. That if you were going to use magic, make such an exception to the laws you uphold you would at least involve others in your decision?” / His eyes widened. “I- didn’t- think-“ / She smiled, a little tight smile with none of its usual open radiance. “No. Of course you didn’t.” / Or, Gwen finds out what Arthur has been keeping from her, and Arthur finds out more things he has been blind to.

My Golden Crown of Sorrow, My Bloody Sword to Swing by queerofthedagger | Gwen finds Morgana just before she dies. Morgana has taken almost everything from her, and there are things Gwen has left to say.

some tags for people who wanted to read it if found: @auldsusie @atdawn @renninflight

there's this merlin fic I read a few years ago: it was some kind of reveal fic, I think, and it was one of those tense, drawn-out ones set when arthur is king and gwen is queen. I don't remember the full context but I remember that gwen is holding arthur's sword and thinking that the craftsmanship is similar to her dad's, and then scrapes her fingernail over the place where her father would usually have added some kind of signature mark, and she realises that this is the sword she gave merlin forever ago. it was a fantastic moment of realisation and I would love to read it again, but I can't remember anything else about the fic :( if this is familiar to you could you please throw me a link or a few more hints? tysm

[will80sbyers]

You're literally my favorite byler blog, I just wanted to thank you for sharing your thoughts with us. ST is my favorite show but I feel like I don't belong anywhere in the fandom, reddit is homophobic, twitter is hell, and most of byler tumblr is just... not something I agree with (and I'm too old for tiktok lol). I don't see Mike as gay or as aware of his feelings for Will (so I don't think he has internalized homophobia) or as lying to El in his monologue. I feel like you have to break so many rules of storytelling to come to these conclusions, and go against they way characters have been written.

What I think is happening is: Mike is an oblivious bisexual mess, but as soon as it clicks for him, he'll be all about loving Will! I don't think he would have a problem with that, he just doesn't know it's a possibility! This also makes the story a lot simpler, without having to retcon anything from past seasons, and it would be easier for the GA to digest, rather than having to negate 4 seasons of the show. El will always be Mike's first love, but Will will be his true, mature love. That's a great story.

Anyway, my point is, you really are my only safe place in the ST fandom these days, so thank you so much for that <3

Thank you, that's really sweet 🫶

I'm just saying what I genuinely think tbh I don't see this as being "controversial", everybody else does it so why can't we do the same?? it's just a different point of view on the story, but I agree I don't think he's aware for now!

I think he always loved Will in a way but it's something he didn't realize was going on in the background of his brain, because he didn't know he could feel like that for another boy, I think he does have a little bit of internalized homophobia but I also think he's gonna get over it very fast as soon as he learns Will loves him, I think Mike always accepts "being different" much faster than other characters would tbh he's been doing that since season 1 again and again so I think he will continue on this pattern, he thinks being different mainly means being special and he views it positively if you're not hurting anyone in the process, which love doesn't do! Plus he's not been bullied specifically for that, unlike Will which has grown up with people hating him for that, calling him gay to bully him and even with his own father calling him a fag... Will has internalized all that hate much more and it's the reason he feels like he's a mistake sometimes, like his whole existence is wrong... He's not over that yet but I think Mike's role is going to be that of helping him also in that department in a way, or at least their relationship will do that for him and I think Mike will not care as much as people think, he will care about proving his love way more and not about what other people say ❤️

[maskedcrawford]

Hidden Secrets

G-Dragon x Reader

Summary: Ji-yong told you the truth, but what's going to happen now?

Warnings: The usual, some angst but with fluff.

A/N: Thank you to everyone who has showed this series love and for all the follows and support. Y'all have no idea how much it means to me!

Requests are OPEN

Chapter 3

Chapter 4- Risk Takers

“Ji-yong,” your voice is barely above a whisper.

“I think we owe it to ourselves to at least try,” his voice is audibly worried you're going to reject him.

“I mean, can you honestly tell me you don’t feel anything, between us,” he’s standing in front of you now motioning between you. You look at the ground and feel tears prick your eyes. Could you take the chance with him? What if he broke your heart all over again?

“Aein,” he questions, voice slightly weaker.

“I’m just asking for a,”

“No,” you say and close your eyes tight. He’s taken aback.

“Wh-what?”

“Ji, I can’t, I can’t do it. I can’t give you that piece of me when you’ve all ready hurt the one you’ve had,” you voice is cracking but it’s the truth.

“I’m not the only one who’s done wrong here,” he tries to deflect.

“But you’re the one asking for more,” you say looking into his eyes, filled with sadness and despair.

“I swear I’ll make it right, I’m just asking for a chance to do that,” his own tears are in his eyes, and one slips over the edge and falls down his face.

“I know what you’re asking, but you don’t.” you sigh and turn to leave again.

“Then tell me,” he puts his hand on your shoulder and you freeze.

“You’re asking me to not only trust you, something I can’t do right now, but to let you in to an even more intimate place than I all ready have. Ji, this whole thing is so messed up. I mean, how the hell did we even get here?”

“Baby, please,” he can’t help himself. He falls to the ground in front of you. He wraps his arms around your torso.

“Just one chance, that’s all I’m asking.” He’s on his knees looking up at you. He wants to do right by you, to love you the right way, but you aren’t sure he knows how. Not without getting something in return. You pull him up off the floor and give him a soft kiss.

He tries to deepen it but before he can you pull away. He looks like a wounded animal, the pain and regret evident on his face.

“I need some time,” you utter, “to think about all of this.” You walk out of the room, it feels like you’re walking out of his life, and return to your work in the small studio.

Neither of you speak the rest of the day. You find yourself fighting an internal battle. You love him, you want to be with him, but he hurt you, used you for his own selfish needs. Granted you used him too, whether you liked to admit it or not.

You could hear him messing around with some music stuff that night while you were in your room. Different sounds coming from his in-home recording studio. Curiosity got the better of you and you couldn’t help but sneak into the door way. He’s so lost in the music he doesn’t seem to hear you walk up. You lean against the doorframe and watch him.

Ji-yong sits there, he can feel your eyes on him, but he doesn’t turn around. He can’t show you his puffy eyes, the way he’s been overthinking this whole thing, or the fear on his face that he’s lost you completely. He writes some lyrics down on a sheet and he gives it a few minutes, trying to see if you’ll walk away. He can’t help the sniffle that he lets out and silently curses himself.

You hear it, that tiny sound that lets you know he’s been crying. So had you most of the day, and while it didn’t make complete sense, you wanted him. You slowly stalk into the studio and slink your arms down his chest from behind him.

He freezes at your initial touch and his eyes close momentarily. He sits back in his chair for a moment, enjoying the feeling of your hands on his body again.

“We’ve both had a long day,” you say seductively in his ear. He nods his head and bites his bottom lip.

“Come on,” you whisper. You kiss the top of his head, a sweet and innocent gesture.

He stands up, almost zombie like and that’s when you see his eyes. Your heart hurts for him, despite how he hurt you. You pull him to you by the waist band of his pants and kiss him deeply. Everything you want to say and don’t know how to say is put into the kiss.

“Fuck, I missed you,” you breathe against his lips, “I want you,” you feel him stiffen under your touch and you pull away looking at him curiously.

“Ji,” you put your hand to his cheek and he, oddly, turns his face from it.

“Aein,” you say shocked, even when he was mad at you or upset he didn’t refuse your touch.

“I can’t have just this part of you,” he says and walks past you out of the room.

“What are you talking about?” You call after him as you follow on his heels down the winding hallway. He stops abruptly and he knows this is the rest of what can be said. It’s now or never.

“I’m in love with you, and I can’t just have you this way anymore,” he doesn’t look at you, just barely over his shoulder.

“It’s too fucking painful. This whole thing, its too fucking painful. I won’t stop you if you want to leave, but if you stay, we can’t keep this up. I physically can’t do it anymore, y/n,” you stand there shocked.

“Love? He loves me?” you think to yourself.

“What if I love you too?” you call as he’s about to go back to his room. He freezes with his hand on the knob. He doesn’t look at you.

“What if I’m terrified because of what we’ve been through all ready,” you ask. He stares at the floor.

“What if I’ve loved you for a long time and, and when we were together it wasn’t casual. What if,” you pause and you know this is the point of no return, “What if I’m afraid to let you in because of all of this? Because you hurting me is something I don’t know how to heal from and if it’s all ready happened this way, us really being together,” he walks up to you and cups your tear-stained face with his warm soft hands.

“At least let me try to make it right.”

“If I lose you, I can’t come back from that,” you sob. Your body starts shaking and he pulls you close, letting your head hit his chest. His arms are around your head and torso.

“Do you love me,” he asks quietly. You sniffle and close your eyes, as if not seeing him makes it any easier.

“With my whole heart,” you croak. He kisses the crown of your head.

“Look at me,” he mumbles against your hair. You look up at him and he’s offering you a small smile.

“Baby we can do this, you just have to let me in,” he rests his forehead on yours. You sigh.

“I’m broken,” you whimper out.

“Me too,” he sighs.

“But we can heal together if you’ll let us. If you’ll give us a fighting chance. I told you; I’ll make this right.”

“What if we fail, what if I lose you,” you sniffle again and look to him for answers.

“What if we succeed? What if we get married have 10 kids and,”

“I’m not putting my body through 10 kids, Ji,” you interrupt playfully but also seriously. He smiles at you and the mood lightens some.

“Then let’s start with this,” he rubs your cheeks with the pad of his thumb.

“What if we are the best person for each other? Y/n there isn’t much about you I don’t all ready know, broken pieces and all. I want all of it. The healed parts, the jagged pieces, if I’m going to fight for anyone, anything, Jagiya, it’s going to be us. Because I know we can make it. I just know we can,” his voce is confident, reassuring, and he pleads a good case.

He does know everything about you, the parts you don’t tell anyone else, the ugly secrets you hide from others, that time you went to band camp and your pants fell down in front of everyone. He knows it all.

You sigh and nod your head, “Let’s give it a shot,” you smile up at him and he kisses you passionately; you moan into it softly. Your arms snake around his neck and you gently tug at the hair at the nape of his neck.

He smiles into the kiss.

“You have an early morning; you should get some sleep.” He says against your lips. You whine quietly, “Then at least come cuddle me until I’m asleep.” You pull away from each other and you both walk into your room. Slipping under the covers you feel him pull you into him.

“I’m really excited to see you unveil your next piece. I’m so proud of you,” he whispers lovingly into your ear.

“Well, I have to be at the art gallery in the morning around 8,”

“I’ll make sure you get there personally.” You stiffen at his words slightly.

“What’s wrong,” his voice is unsteady.

“What about the public? I mean, do we want to give this a trail run before we tell people.”

“Nothing would make me happier than to scream from the roof top of the highest building in the city that you’re my girl,” he kisses the back of your neck.

“But if you want to wait, we can do that too.” You grin and scoot back a little more into him.

“I just, I want to keep this between us for a bit. Let it be ours before it’s everyone else’s to scrutinize and judge. I want us to be solid with each other first,” you try to explain.

“Then that’s what we’ll do. But I can still come tomorrow, right?” he quirks a brow.

“Yes,” you giggle, “Just not as my boyfriend.” He groans.

“Ji, it’s just when we’re out in public.” He moves his lips to your ear.

“And it was hard not to kiss you in public before all this,” you blush at his words and turn over to face him.

“I promise, as soon as everything is over, you can kiss me as much as you want.”

“I’ll take that deal,” he grins and gives you a soft kiss before you tuck your head under his chin and fall asleep.

If you enjoyed and would like to support me, buy me a coffee

Tags: @loveesiren @natalicss @mashtatosworld @nerdydoll-com @fleabagspurplewife @multifanxtvshows

[juliet-017]

Remunerate - L.B.

Bsf!Lorenzo Berkshire x fem!reader

Minors dni!

Warnings: first time, oral f!reciving, manipulative undertones, dubcon (reader is intoxicated), brief allusion of puke like one line, unprotected p n v

Synopsis: Lorenzo Berkshire was probably one of the best people you could even call your best friend. He was sweet, kind, funny, and sacrificed so much time just to make you feel special. Honestly, you felt like really.

a/n: This oneshot actually started out as a Draco one but as I got further in I realized it was actually very Enzo, especially with the undertones and such that I used to portray him. Hope you all enjoy! (Adding here that to my new follows that followed me bc of "Kisemis" (or anyone who liked it and is seeing this) to please comment over on it if you want to be tagged for part 2!! Thank you so so much!

1st divider creds: @d-oie

Wc: ~1.7k

One of the first things you recognized about Lorenzo Berkshire is that he was utterly obsessed with always having the absolute best—shiny, new, and expensive. Wanting to be the first to have something, he used his connections to do just that.

He denied being spoiled, and that he would always get what he wanted one way or another. But you knew better, often teasing him over it, feigning annoyance when he'd buy you anything. Any dress, skirt, or shoe you'd show even the slightest bit of interest in while looking over the news edition of Witches Weekly.

But that's what friends are for, right? Holding back hair when you get sick after a party, helping you change into something more comfortable, only to excuse himself right after every time before returning to help lull you into a peaceful sleep. You never heard about him doing this with other girls.

He could've been with anyone else, like how all of his mates would end up with a new girl practically every time, tangling in bed sheets after a long night of drinking and dancing. And he used to be like them, till you two became close. But no, more than half the time he was with you, catering to you. All fleeting and platonic touches.

Until tonight, just drunk enough to be clingy you hold onto Enzo’s arm like a lifeline, blabbering on about how amazing he is. How you don't know why he puts up with you.

He chuckles, brushing it all off playfully, till you prompt a more explicit question. “I just don't get why you spend time taking care of me instead of going off with other girls.” You whine, looking up at him through your lashes. “You could be out and having fun,” You continue. “I don't need you to babysit me, Enzo.”

“I never said you needed to be babysat,” He hums, guiding you up to your dorm. “I just wanted to do you a favor. It would be rude of me to leave you alone and sick, love.”

“You're too kind for your own good, Enz,” You slur, letting him open the door and close it behind you as you make your way to your bed, stumbling before landing harshly on it. “I just feel bad. You give and give but don't get anything.”

“Well, you're allowed to give too, Princess. You know that, right?” He hums brushing your hair out of your face before kneeling and helping you take your heels off. You blush, shifting your weight some.

“Well… I mean yeah..” You reply quietly, recognizing him going through the usual motions of the night. You comply, helping him with stripping you. “I just..” Your voice trails, spotting the bulge in his trousers for the first time after one of the escapades. After a few moments it clicks, Would he actually go through all of this just to sleep with you?

You shake your head, clearing it of that thought. Enzo wouldn't do that. He's kind, a total sweetheart. He'd do anything for you, right?

He returns from your dresser, having grabbed a nightgown which he helped slip over your head. You can't help but eye his groin again, yep.. definitely hard.

Lorenzo grinned, cocky as ever. “My eyes are up here, sweetheart.” He taunts, looking down at you and taking your chin to lift your gaze. Your mind feels fuzzy, as if he’s looking at you in a whole new light.

“Duh.. I know that.” You murmur, trying to think of how to word it. “But I was just thinking about how you said I can give too.. and uhm… I think I want to.” You continue, averting his gaze slightly.

He chuckles, causing you to chuckle in turn. “Oh darling, you don't have to. I don't want you to regret it, after all you haven't done anything like this before from what I know.” He starts, voice honeyed, eyes wide and sweet.

“But you do all of this for me when you could just ignore it. I'd feel bad if I knowingly left you like that.” You interrupt, pouting slightly. “And after all… I wouldn't mind you being my first.”

“Sweet girl, you can't be serious.” He tsks, shaking his head and taking a step back and observing you.

“I am serious, Enz. Other girls talk about you all the time, and your my best friend. I just.. want to know what I'm missing. That's all.” You argue, looking up at him still. “Please?” You press, softly. “I'm not dumb, I know what sex is. And if I'm going to have it I want it to be with someone I trust.”

He hums, a huff of amusement escaping him. “Only if you're sure.” He mumbles, dropping your chin, stripping himself of his shirt. You nod, eyes roaming over his abs.

It's not like you haven't seen them before. But it felt different with the current undertones, the dark room and the wetness growing between your thighs. “Go and rest up by the headboard, love,” He instructs, you nod gently and comply.

It feels unfair that he's practically naked, save his boxers, and you're covered in a nightgown. But that doesn't last long.

Enzo starts at the foot of the bed, peppering kisses up your ankle slowly working his way to your knee and onwards. He nips occasionally, making you whine and jolt. He smirks against your skin, continuing and stopping just short of where you need him most. Your hips buck slightly and he can't help but chuckle some.

“Are you absolutely sure about this, love?” He asks again. You wonder if he's teasing, or is actually wondering, but you nod feeling far too needy to speak.

You feel him pulling your panties off, tossing them off to the side somewhere, your thighs ending up on either side of his shoulders. You tense, anxiety hitting you before he gives your needy clit a soft peck.

He starts small and delicate, gently alternating between licking stripes down your pussy and sucking on your clit. Your hands digging into his hair and pulling at his scalp as you writhe in his grip, his hands firmly grasping your waist in order to hold you still. “So sweet.” He hums against your core, the vibrations only driving you crazy.

Unexpectedly you feel him withdrawal, a whimper turning into a gasp when he slips a finger into you, slowly pumping it before giving your clit some attention.

Moaning softly you can't help but buck your hips slightly, feeling pressure grow in your lower stomach. “Mm, Enzo- I'm gonna…” You whine, flushed. “ ‘m so close.”

He gently adds another finger, bringing you even closer, making you an utter mess. “Fuckfuckfuck.”

Your back arches slightly, trying to hold on for a bit longer only to crash down, pleasure blinding you as your body goes slack.

Slowly, he pulls his fingers out of you, making you clench around the loss, shivering. Propping yourself up on your elbows you look down at him, about to clean off his fingers in his mouth before raising a brow and bringing them to your own lips. You hesitate before opening your mouth just enough for him to fit his fingers, and he does.

You swirl your tongue, tasting yourself. “Such a filthy girl… who would've thought it just took some drinking and trust to turn you into this.” Enzo murmurs.

He presses down on your tongue, fingers making you gag before he withdraws them. “Wish that was my cock in your mouth instead,” He growls, pulling himself up to be more even with your face, slipping his boxers off in the process.

Flushed you try to think of a response, squirming under his touch. Any words you wanted to say were cut off by him. “So responsive…” he purrs, burying his face into your neck, softly biting and sucking in order to mark you up.

He teases you with his tip, running it between your folds and drawing a high pitched moan from you. Bucking your hips, looking up at him. “Enz, please… I want- I need-.” You grumble pathetically, whining.

“Fucked out already and I hardly did anything.” He taunts, clicking his tongue and shaking his head before slowly entering you, watching your expression slowly shift as you take him.

Bottoming out he can't help but watch you, face screwed up as you adjust. “Look at me, love.” He whispers, pecking your forehead before slowly moving in and out of you.

“Enzo, mh- feel so full.” You moan, adjusting to the stretch still. “Fuck, please.” You mutter incoherently, watching your best friends face as he fucks you, clearly holding back. “More.”

He can't help but pick up the pace at that, the sound of moans and skin slapping echoing throughout the empty room. His head dips down, grunting into your ear as your hands wrap up around his back and dig into his skin.

“S’tight squeezing around me,” Lorenzo grunts into your ear, trying a new angle and helping your legs to wrap around his waist to hit you even deeper. “so good for me.”

One of his hands playing with you tit over your nightgown, only deepening your pleasure. “Wanna feel you come ‘round my cock.” He pants, his free hand moving down to swirl around your clit, causing your back to arch as you scratch him up even more. Heat coiled in your stomach as you give your best attempt to meet his thrusts.

Balancing on the edge you dig into his shoulder blades, feeling his thrusts become more sloppy as he twitches inside of you.

It's enough to send you barreling off the edge, pleasure crashing over you like a wave, feeling him fuck you through your high before the spassming of your walls sends him over his own edge. His cum spurting deep inside of you as he collapses on top of you, both sweaty and panting.

Eventually he pulls out of you, rolling the both of you over so you can rest your head on his chest.

If not for that you’d’ve missed the smug look on his face. A smirk of someone that looks as if they've just won the Quidditch World Cup. You're too drunk and fucked out to care, hearing him murmur what you assume to be a charm to clean the pair of you up before subcomming to sleep.

[cometst4r]

Safe to say, Simon Riley has a sweet tooth. And you so happen to be the sweetest thing his eyes land upon.

tags/cw: simon is grumpy, awkward and lowkey highkey a pervert, also a little touch-starved and probably also deranged but its mild. a small explicit scene at the end. idk what else to say here. reader has no personality bc i wrote this in like half an hour sorry

=============================

One of the many things Simon Riley hates is the paperwork that needs to be done whenever he goes on leave. He'd much rather be deployed all year-round just so he wouldn't have to deal with the frustrating task.

And after waiting around at the admin office for some excruciating hours, he was on the brink of mental breakdown. He already felt the beginning of a migraine throbbing behind his eyes.

He was in desperate needs of a smoke. And since he's in town, he might as well get some nice rich coffee, not the cheap and burnt instant one he has home, to go along with his cigarette or plural, because he definitely needs more than one.

Tense and with his ever permanent scowl, he went to the first café he finds. The door bell chimes aggressively as he steps inside, the smell of coffee beans and too sweet pastries hitting him straight in the face. Grab an espresso and get out, smoke on the way home. Easy.

Except everything is forgotten, both cig and headache and all the moment he sees the pretty thing behind the counter. Maybe he's craving something sweet instead of the bitter coffee.

And the way you greet him—polite and alluring like the voice of a siren—he might just melt on the spot.

"Good afternoon, what can i get for you today?" you chime in your customer service voice. Usually he hates the fake tone people put on, but oh you sound so genuine and sweet, all for him.

"Espresso," he grunts the singular word, dark eyes boring into you so intense it's like he's taken a hold of your soul.

You gulp and smile kindly at the behemoth of a man in front of you. Did the sky get cloudy all of a sudden or is it him that's covering the sun from coming in through the windows? "Is that all?"

He just stares blankly at you. You wonder if he even heard you. No answer comes, his penetrating gaze doesn't move an inch. He just lifts his hand and points at the glass display, his finger pointed at the first thing there is—some plain croissant.

So awkward, you think to yourself as you bag the pastry.

You try not to mind the burning of his bullet like gaze as you turn to make his coffee.

All the while, Simon is already envisioning all the things he wants to do to you. In his more than just touch-starved mind, you're an angel sent from heaven. So sweet and innocent and kind. The way you smiled at him, or the flutter of your eyelashes as you spoke and looked at him. He just found a new hobby for while he's on leave.

You really hate the new policy of having to write on every single cup you serve. You never expected to find the task to be so thought provoking. Maybe he's just introverted, or is having a difficult day, don't be a prude. So you just settle for a simple 'Have a great day :)'.

Placing the cup next to the croissant, you ask how he'd like to pay. Again, no answer. He just slides a 100 pound bill across the counter.

You hold out the coffee and pastry for him to grab and for the first time since coming into the shop his eyes flick from your face down to your hands. He takes his order and you were about to hand him the change when he finally says something again. "Keep it."

You look at him in bewilderment. That's a lot of money to tip.

He's out the door before you can even verbalize a 'Thank you".

Well, your day just got ten times better. As odd as the interaction was, you pray he'll come again. Little do you know, you'll see him again, way too often acrually.

--

The carton cup, now empty, was settled on the coffee table of his living room. The small and neat handwriting stood facing towards the couch where he was sat. He stared ahead at the tiny words, imagining the pretty face that wrote them.

You smiled all cutesy and even drew a sweet smiley face for him. It's obviously your way of flirting, has to be. But don't you worry, he gets the message.

Taking the tiny cup in his hand, he thinks of your own hands, soft-looking and dainty, so different and small compared to his.

He almost feels bad thinking it. Almost.

Unashamedly, he undoes the front of his pants. He remembers how your hand looked holding the coffee cup, fingers barely touching. He can't help but wonder how it would look to have your hand wrapped around his cock, your soft palm stroking him instead of his rough, calloused one.

===========================

so idk wtf i just wrote, is a first for me. after lurking around for roughly two years i decided to maybe write some fics too. this is not original, recycled idea obviously.

also english is not my first language so i apologize if some sentences dont make sense. if you're actually reading this, thank you for taking your time and reading my silly fic xoxo love u

[acescorazon]

Changes

Chapter: 22

Title: Maybe

Rating: M

Warnings: Language, Crocodile. Dialogue Heavy because Mihawk and Crocodile want to bicker.

Word Count: 3532

Chapter excerpt:

Oh, this shouldn’t feel good.

Mihawk’s still a little cold, and he smells faintly like the ocean, but his body is firm and his embrace soothes some of Buggy's anxieties, as well as his heart and his spirit. God, it’s been too long since he was last held by a man, hasn’t it? Or at least that’s what he tells himself. 

Mihawk leans down slightly and rests his cheek against the top of Buggy’s head, “You didn't have to thank me, though. I'm just glad you're alive and well.” The comment is almost surreal to Buggy. Months ago, Mihawk probably wouldn't have cared if Buggy lived or died, but right now he's telling him how happy he is that he's alive. It’s weird.

“Don't try and butter me up.” Buggy murmurs in response. 

“I'm not. I was afraid I wouldn't make it to you in time.”

“Oh, quit lying… You're not afraid of anything.” 

“That's just not true. I was genuinely afraid I wouldn’t be able to save you.” 

Buggy groans softly. He knows he shouldn't believe a word Mihawk's saying, but his feelings are all screwed up right now. Mihawk gives good hugs and is surprisingly good at sweet talking, and Buggy’s trying his hardest not to believe him and just melt into his arms, but Mihawk isn’t making it easy for him.

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As Buggy trails behind his two fellow members of Cross Guild, he keeps his eyes glued to the ground and remains quiet. So much has already happened on their first trip out to sea together, and Buggy is still processing everything from the events that just transpired to his own thoughts and emotions. He wants to say something to Mihawk and Crocodile, but he doesn’t know where to start. Is now even the right time to say anything? After all, their horrifying encounter with the sea king barely came to an end less than twenty minutes ago. 

In the end, Buggy decides not to potentially annoy Mihawk and Crocodile by speaking to them right now. He listens to them bicker instead, and It’s both a relief and (oddly) endearing to see them acting so lively, especially after such a scary situation.

“Will you stop coddling me already?” Crocodile grumbles in a gruff voice as he leans onto Mihawk for support. “I already told you I can walk on my own. Told you I didn’t need to see no doctor neither.”

Mihawk sighs as he ignores Crocodile’s protests and helps him to the infirmary anyways, “I have a headache. Will you shut up for two seconds?” he asks, and Buggy just knows that the world’s strongest swordsman is rolling his eyes right now, even though he can’t see him do it. 

“You think you’re the only one with a damn headache? Do you know how long I was underwater? I almost passed out because you took forever to come get me.”

“I couldn’t save you both at once. Buggy was the first one I saw, so naturally I saved him first.”

“You couldn’t have saved him any faster? I know you’re not as young as you used to be, but for fuck’s sake. Another few seconds and I would have fuckin’ croaked.”

“I swam as fast as I could,” Mihawk replies after clicking his tongue, “You’re such an ungrateful man. I should have left you at the bottom of the ocean.”

God, they’re annoying, Buggy thinks as he tries to hold back a smile. Shouldn’t they just be happy that everyone’s safe and sound, and that their crew didn’t have to abandon ship? Any normal person would be celebrating that they're alive right now and not arguing, but then again, Mihawk and Crocodile are anything but normal.  

“You should’ve.” Crocodile agrees, “Drowning would have been way better than dealing with your constant babying. You worry too much, y’know? I don’t like it.” 

“Someone has to worry about you. You’re going to get yourself killed one of these days.” Mihawk mutters under his breath. 

“Aw, you have a heart after all.” 

“I have a heart, but very little patience for obnoxious fools like you. If you keep irritating me, I’ll slice you in half.” 

“HA! I would love to see you try.”

The altercation doesn’t become physical even though heated words were exchanged and a threat was made. Instead, Mihawk continues to drag Crocodile to the infirmary and Crocodile lets it happen despite all his complaining. Buggy wishes he were surprised, but he's not. There were days when he wished that Mihawk and Crocodile would finally clash and kill one another so that he wouldn’t have to live with both of them, but things almost never got physical between the two. In fact, they seem like they're two peas in a pod and like they secretly enjoy arguing with each other. Maybe bickering is some weird form of entertainment for the two, who knows?

Once in the infirmary, Mihawk and Crocodile continue their fight (if you can even call it that) as the rest of the crew run around, warming up blankets and towels, and looking for spare clothes for the three wet men. Buggy can’t help but roll his eyes as he begins to get undressed. Jeez, do they ever stop? He wonders, once his feelings of endearment turn to annoyance. 

“You’re so irritating. Just let the doctor check you out.” Mihawk tells Crocodile. 

Of course, Crocodile continues to refuse to get checked out by the ship’s doctor, though. “I don’t need a doctor to tell me something I already know. I’m fine. What I really want to do is go to sleep so I can wake up early and get us back on track.” 

“Will you forget about your plans for two seconds? We just ran into a sea king. We need to make sure everything is alright before we head to Prickly Pear. We should stop by the nearest island a–”

Crocodile raises his hand up and cuts Mihawk off quickly once he mentions changing their plans, “Are you kidding me? Everything is fine. There’s no reason to stop now.” Ah, now that sounds like the Crocodile Buggy knows. He really does have a one track mind, doesn’t he?

“Everything might appear to be in good condition right now, but it’s late and assessing any damages the ship might have taken from the attack will be difficult. Plus, I’m sure the men need a break after tonight.”

“Bullshit. We just started sailing, there’s no reason to stop now. We ain’t even halfway to the island yet.”

“It’s not bullshit, it’s the truth. You seemed like you were thinking so reasonably before. What happened? Did you lose what little sense you had left while you were underwater?”

“Oh, fuck off. Even if we abandoned the ship, I wasn’t going to abandon my plans. We would just have to get to Prickly Pear in the lifeboats instead.”

Mihawk’s eyes go wide and he scoffs. For once the world's strongest swordsman seems caught off guard by something. “What an idiotic idea. You do realize we wouldn’t have made it all the way to Prickly Pear in just a lifeboat, right? If the ship had sunk, we most likely wouldn’t have had food or water, or emergency supplies. Not to mention navigating the sea would be damn near impossible in a lifeboat. We’d all die before we made it there.”

Crocodile scoffs right back at Mihawk, “Oh, please. Don’t be dramatic.” he replies, sounding rather dismissive. 

Buggy’s on Mihawk’s side this time, but he doesn’t let the other two know that. He remains quiet and pulls his wet shirt over his head instead, shivering slightly when he feels cool air make contact with his wet skin. Maybe I should have packed a few more pairs of clothes for this trip after all, he thinks. There were so many things Buggy didn’t account for like accidents, or tears, or giant sea squid attacks, and maybe he should have. A captain should be prepared for anything, after all. 

Buggy’s about to pull off his boxers next, when he notices the room has gone rather quiet. He looks up and quickly realizes that Crocodile and Mihawk are staring at him intently. What'd I do now? He thinks as he suppresses a sigh. “What's wrong?” He asks. He expects some sort of answer, but Crocodile and Mihawk simply exchange looks before going back to their previous conversation. It's weird, but Buggy doesn't question it because Crocodile and Mihawk are just weird in general, man. 

***

Buggy spends the next few hours being monitored by the ship’s doctor alongside Mihawk and Crocodile. During this time, Mihawk somehow convinces Crocodile to make a pit stop at a nearby island as soon as possible. It’s incredible how Mihawk always manages to get Crocodile to change his mind, even if it takes some time. Buggy would have never managed to do something like that. Arguing with Crocodile is always such a headache and he tries (but often fails) to avoid doing it at all costs. 

The infirmary eventually clears out and quiets down with only the sounds of various machines operating filling the room. Once the rest of the crew is gone and all that remains is the three founding members of Cross Guild, things become strangely peaceful between the three of them as they sit around, waiting to get the okay to leave. Buggy didn’t think he’d ever live to see the day where he could be at peace with Crocodile and Mihawk around. But, truth be told, he doesn’t mind their presence in the infirmary with him, at least not right now. 

He lies in a hospital bed, wrapped in a giant, warm blanket, and stares at the ceiling as time slowly passes by. It's boring, but it's nice. Having nothing to do is a lot better than having Crocodile and Mihawk yell at him, or order him around, or try to beat him up, that's for sure.  

Crocodile clears his throat all of a sudden, though, and disrupts the peaceful silence in the room. “Look, Hawkeye. You better not let this go to your damn head…” he mutters, “But you really saved my ass back there, and I appreciate it.” he pauses after Mihawk grunts in response and then glances over at Buggy, “You too. You might not have saved me, but you tried, and I’m grateful for that.”  

Aw, so he really can be nice after all, Buggy thinks sarcastically - He can't help it, the thought appears in his head before he can stop it. 

Buggy remains silent for a moment before he causally replies: “Meh. There's no need to thank me. I couldn't have stood around and done nothing while you went overboard, could I?” He asks, waving his hand. He swallows before quietly adding, “You scared the shit out of me when you went overboard all of a sudden, you know that right? I'm glad you're okay.” The words sound so strange coming out of his mouth given the fact that he’s saying them to Crocodile, but he means them. “I… I’m glad you’re both okay. I was worried you guys wouldn’t make it back to the ship alive, actually.”  

Mihawk chuckles quietly, “You were worried about us? How cute.” he replies, “And here I thought you still hated our guts. Are we finally starting to get on your good side, Buggy?” That comment alone makes Buggy’s face burn with embarrassment. Ew, no! He takes it all back! He wasn’t worried about Mihawk or Crocodile at all. In fact, he was actively praying for their end. 

(That's not true at all, and Buggy knows it.)

“Huh…” Crocodile stares at Buggy for a moment, sizing him up, or something, “You are kind of cute, aren’t you?” He asks all of a sudden. Excuse me? Buggy finds himself thinking, obviously taken back by Crocodile’s sudden compliment. Did he just call me cute? No, I must be hearing shit again. The worst part about this all is how nonchalant Crocodile is about the whole thing. It's like he didn't just call the man he hates with all his guts ‘cute.’

Crocodile turns and looks over at Mihawk, who’s lounging lazily in his own bed, “He’s a pretty boy, ain’t he? He’s all soft, and he’s got a real pretty face.”

“He is.” Mihawk simply agrees, which shouldn’t be surprising, but his answer only adds to Buggy’s confusion and makes him feel more flustered. Is this a joke? This feels like a joke, if you ask Buggy.

“Quit messing with me…” Buggy mutters under his breath as he feels a wave of agitation and frustration mix with his confusion and embarrassment. They shouldn’t just say things like that so casually… Buggy’s a gutless coward, not a pretty boy -- Those were their words, not his, by the way…

“Who’s messing with you?” Mihawk replies with a scoff, “You’re pretty, and anyone with eyes can see it.” It’s not that Buggy can’t appreciate a compliment, it’s just that this moment feels so surreal to him that it almost feels like it's staged or even just a cruel joke. 

“I’ve never really looked at you before,” Crocodile admits, “But, Hawkeye’s right. You’re a real pretty thing.” How is Buggy even supposed to reply to something like that? He has no idea, so he waves his hand dismissively and mutters a quick response, “Yeah, thanks.” After that, he tries his best to finally get some rest, but it’s hard with all the thoughts buzzing around in his head.

Buggy never does fall asleep, though, and It sucks. He’s exhausted by the time the doctor finally sends them on their way. Granted, he can probably sleep all day and leave Mihawk or Crocodile to tend to the ship and crew if they aren’t too tired themselves, but still.  

The sun is just beginning to rise and illuminate the infirmary in a soft, warm glow as Buggy shuffles out of the room behind Crocodile and Mihawk. He’s about to head back to his room when he suddenly remembers something. “Hey, Uh, Hawkeye, can I speak with you for a minute?"

Mihawk hums in response, “Of course,” he replies before allowing Buggy to pull him to the side. Buggy hesitates for a moment, waiting for Crocodile to disappear from his line of sight before he finally speaks up, “I probably should have said this earlier… But, uh, I just wanted to thank you for saving me.” Buggy tells Mihawk. “I, uh… This might sound a little silly, but I'm just now realizing how much you do for me and Cross Guild in general, and I really appreciate you for always saving the day. And, yeah… Thank you.” 

Mihawk stares at Buggy for a moment, looking pleasantly surprised by Buggy's words. “I didn't think the day would come where I'd receive your praise, Captain Buggy.” He jokes as he reaches out and slowly grabs Buggy’s hand before giving it a squeeze.

Damn it, don’t do this to me… Buggy thinks as he looks around the empty hallway and double checks to make sure no one is around. His heart is fluttering from Mihawk’s touch, but he tries his best to ignore it and remain calm. “Don't get used to it.” He mutters, “I'm not going to shower you in praises every time you do something.” 

Mihawk chuckles softly, “I didn't expect you to.” He replies, then he pauses for a moment before speaking again, “I'm probably asking for too much, but can I hug you? Just for a minute, i promise.”

The question almost makes Buggy choke on his own spit. Huh? He wants a hug? It’s a simple request, but it feels like a huge one to Buggy at that moment. He shouldn’t be allowing Mihawk in his personal space so easily, should he? This should definitely be where he draws the line. Right, but…

Mihawk has been so good to him lately…

Despite his own hesitancy, Buggy’s eyes soften slightly when he sees Mihawk open his arms. Just once… he thinks. Just this once because Mihawk has been so sweet and because he saved Buggy’s life. But that doesn’t change the fact that he’s been horrible to Buggy in the past and that Buggy still hates him. He's just going to give him a hug because he's thankful, that's all. Buggy steps forward and as soon as he’s close enough, Mihawk grabs him by his waist and pulls him into a tight embrace. 

Oh, this shouldn’t feel good.

Mihawk’s still a little cold, and he smells faintly like the ocean, but his body is firm and his embrace soothes some of Buggy's anxieties, as well as his heart and his spirit. God, it’s been too long since he was last held by a man, hasn’t it? Or at least that’s what he tells himself. 

Mihawk leans down slightly and rests his cheek against the top of Buggy’s head, “You didn't have to thank me, though. I'm just glad you're alive and well.” The comment is almost surreal to Buggy. Months ago, Mihawk probably wouldn't have cared if Buggy lived or died, but right now he's telling him how happy he is that he's alive. It’s weird.

“Don't try and butter me up.” Buggy murmurs in response. 

“I'm not. I was afraid I wouldn't make it to you in time.”

“Oh, quit lying… You're not afraid of anything.” 

“That's just not true. I was genuinely afraid I wouldn’t be able to save you.” 

Buggy groans softly. He knows he shouldn't believe a word Mihawk's saying, but his feelings are all screwed up right now. Mihawk gives good hugs and is surprisingly good at sweet talking, and Buggy’s trying his hardest not to believe him and just melt into his arms, but Mihawk isn’t making it easy for him.

The lack of awkwardness scares Buggy, and so does the amount of time he spends in Mihawk’s embrace. This should have been a quick, awkward, encounter, but they hold each other longer than they should. When Buggy realizes this, he immediately tries to pull away, but Mihawk grabs him and pulls him back towards his chest. “Wait.” he murmurs, "Can I just hold you for a little while longer?” 

“Huh?” Buggy asks, and he despises how soft his voice comes out sounding.

"I've never held someone like this before. I think I like it.” Mihawk casually confesses. He says it like it’s a completely normal thing to say to Buggy, but it isn’t. This is weird. They shouldn’t be doing this. Buggy shouldn't be doing this for fuck's sake. He hates him. He hates him with all his guts. This shouldn't feel so natural. This is grossly crossing the line. They need to STOP.

(Why does Mihawk’s body feel so good pressed against his?)

Buggy is utterly speechless for a moment, but against his better judgment, he slowly begins to hug Mihawk back again, “Ugh. Don't get used to this kind of stuff. I'm only letting this happen because you saved my life.”

(Is that really the truth, though?)

“I know.” Mihawk replies, chuckling. His laugh sounds so pleasant to the ears at that very moment, and Buggy wonders why. Why does Mihawk’s touch feel so good? Why does his laugh sound like music too his ears? Why does Buggy feel so...off right now because of horrible ol' Mihawk?

“This doesn't change anything, either. “ Buggy adds as he clings onto the back of Mihawk’s dress shirt tightly.

“I know, but I hope things will change between us soon. I hope you’ll be able to truly forgive me and — “ 

“I forgive you, okay? Just shut up.”

Mihawk goes oddly quiet, and his silence confuses Buggy. Isn’t this what he wanted? Hasn’t he been seeking Buggy’s forgiveness endlessly and trying to prove to him that he’s changed? What’s wrong now? “Do you really mean it?” He finally asks. 

Maybe. Probably. Buggy still has so many emotions he needs to sort out, but he thinks he forgives Mihawk for the most part even though their messy past always lingers somewhere at the back of his mind, "Yeah… You’re forgiven or whatever, but don’t go thinking we’re best friends now. I still kind of hate you, but I’ll tolerate you for the sake of Cross Guild.”

“How do I get you to start liking me back?”

“You won’t. Now, let me go, you're cold.” 

“Stay and warm me up then.” 

Okay, that’s enough. Buggy breaks away from his and Mihawk’s hug (finally) “Listen, Romeo…” He says, and as the words leave his mouth, his voice cracks slightly. God, he doesn’t know what’s more embarrassing, Mihawk’s flirting or that stupid voice crack he just experienced. Either way, now he’s annoyed and even more flustered than before. “I said nothing’s changed. I still don’t like you like that.”

 

Mihawk hums, “I know.” he says before he grabs Buggy’s hand one last time, “But…” He pauses, clearly choosing his words carefully before he speaks again, “Maybe we can talk some more later…”

Turn him down.

Don’t give him hope.

You hate him. Don’t let this get out of hand, you’ll regret it. It’s dangerous. He has feelings for you and he’ll start thinking you like him if you keep playing these stupid games.  

...But what if...?

Buggy bites the inside of his cheek, “Maybe. I’m not making any promises, though.” he replies.

You dumbass. There's a voice at the back of Buggy's head that's yelling at him and telling him: Why do you do this to yourself? You hate him. Do you not remember all that he’s done to you? He’s hurt you, idiot. Don’t you remember that? Why are you acting differently now that he’s saved you and has been nice to you a few times? You shouldn’t let him keep doing this. You should turn him down. What if he goes back to his old ways and hurts you again? It’ll crush you, you know it will.  

Buggy ignores that voice, though, the moment Mihawk starts talking to him again, “Perhaps we can start off as friends and build some form of trust between us and, then…”

“...Maybe." Buggy reluctantly agrees, "I should go, though, I’m tired.”

"Okay, sleep well, but I hope we can talk more when you wake up, Buggy."

Good god, even his goodbyes are sweet now. Buggy can't handle this right now. He needs to get far away from this man and as quickly as possible before he does something dumb.

[severants]

🤒 :3c

needing to be looked after

“it's just a hangover.”

“hangovers don't give you a hundred degree fever.”

“they could.”

“mark,” they sigh from across the kitchen, eyes boring into the back of his head as he lowers his head into his hands from where he sat on the couch. a frown tugs at their expression. their stomach churns at his discomfort. 

mark wasn't a man that got sick; perhaps, in the decades they'd known him maybe but a handful of times had they really seen him bedridden. 

the last time he'd been in such a state was…

the sound of the kettle against the stove reverberates off of the cramped walls of the kitchen. 

“you're not going to work tomorrow.”

“i'll be fine, hopefully,” his tone was awfully light.

“it wasn't a question, mark.”

“i'm fine, seriously.”

echo hums disapprovingly as they round the couch, setting the mug they held down onto the table in front of him. they don't sit, choosing instead to tower over his hunched form. their arms cross. 

“so, what, you just go to work sick? what if you're like, raising immune-compromised babies down there? you're just gonna flu all over them? that's fucked up, mark.”

“i don't think we do that in the corporate archives division, e.”

“well you wouldn't know, would you?”

he manages a muted chuckle as they smile too, but when he glances at them, they look away in annoyance. the next moment, their smile falls into a smirk.

“you left your keys downstairs at the bar i think. if you're leaving, you'll have to go get them.”

“stairs. right. i can do that.”

he takes a breath, steadies himself. with muscles too weak to push himself off the couch, he struggles once, twice, to stand. on his third try, he falls back into the cushions.

“tomorrow. i'll grab them when i leave in the morning.”

“mark --”

“i'm okay, e. my god. you act like -- like i’m dying. i can take care of myself.”

“jesus, mark, you think i don't know that? could you let me fucking help you for once without all the back and forth bullshit?”

he pauses, taken aback by them as their arms fall to their side. he carefully watches the way they bite at the corner of their mouth. he thinks of all the times he's scolded them for doing so. he thinks of all the times they've scolded him for all of his vices, too. 

“i didn't mean it like that. i just…i mean, it's not like i'm trained for this, or anything. or that like, i do this literally every day and probably am the best option to take care of you, or whatever.”

the mug is still hot when he picks it up. he tries to smell whatever it is they'd made him, but with sinuses so blocked it's to no avail. if he had to guess, it was --

“tea. and honey.”

he mutters thanks, and nearly burns his tongue on it. 

they gather their emotions, and take their seat next to him.

the sweet of the drink cools the burning at the back of his throat. when he finds his strength depleted, he places the cup back on the table. with eyelids heavy, he rests back on the couch.

when arms pull him to lay, he doesn't fight back, and when hands brush his hair out of his face to feel his forehead, he settles comfortably in their lap.

“they better be paying you overtime for this.”

“mm. i'm going to bargain for nothing less than time and a half times two.”

“...you think I'm worth that much?”

they can barely make out his words, so low and laced with such fatigue. they take a breath to speak, then stop, reconsider. shake it away. they don't know how long it is until they speak again.

“you're worth so much more.” 

he doesn't respond. they look down, past the tufts of dark hair that they've brushed and parted that reveals his eyes -- closed, breathing steadily. 

they don't know how long they sit there, fingers woven into his hair so carefully, but it was long enough for them too to find themselves drifting into sleep.

"...to me."

[frogsinflannel]

twirling my hair kicking my feet what WIP are you thinking about workin on if you're feeling up for writing? (also I hope you feel better soon!!!)

Hello! Thank you, I am feeling a bit better, mostly because I finally remembered to eat something so. Note to self on that one, food good ??? Apparently ???

But I am working on a continuation of this (a part before that actually)

working title: until I wrap myself inside your arms i cannot rest

Things have been going so well it’s almost too good to be true. But it is true. And things aren’t just good, they’re great. 

That’s not to say that things have been easy. Both of them have put in the work. They’ve talked things out, exposed their vulnerable underbellies, made a concerted effort to be equal, committed partners. He’s got open and honest communication marked down on his to-do list right under getting his back blown out.

Take now, for instance.  He’s killing two birds with one stone and checking everything off his list.

“Mmm, stop that,” Tommy says, batting his hand away where Buck had been rubbing idly at his pec.  He flicks the nipple and Tommy grunts, pushing him off his chest.  “Brat.”

Buck laughs and presses himself closer into Tommy’s side.  “I don’t care,” he says, “I’ll own it.  I’m a brat.”  He nuzzles into the juncture of Tommy’s neck and shoulder and then snaps at the skin with careful teeth.  “It’s not my fault you like it, old man.”

“Hey.”  Tommy’s hand sinks into the hair on the back of his head and tugs, just enough to let him feel it.  He likely means it as a punishment but joke’s on him, Buck likes it.  “Watch it, kid.”

Buck grins, big and wide, and shimmies up a little to kiss Tommy firmly on the mouth.  Their teasing is derailed for a minute by some making out, but it never gets heated, staying slow and soft and sweet as they trade slick, tender kisses.  Buck teases at Tommy’s lips, licking gently into his mouth, and then sucks at the wet muscle of his tongue.  Things de-escalate into lazy pecks, and then they separate, no longer so tangled up together but still close and warm.

“This is good,” Buck tells him. “Feels nice.” He drapes one arm across Tommy’s abdomen and burrows into his side as much as he can. “I know you have to go to work, but other than that?” Tommy smells like sweat and Buck’s laundry detergent, and he breathes in, his nose pressed to Tommy’s skin. “You’re staying here. In my bed, where you belong.” His grip tightens. “I’m not letting you go again.”

Soft breath fans across his temple. “I’m sorry,” Tommy says.

“Hey, no, it’s—“ Buck shifts up so he can meet Tommy’s eyes. “It’s okay, we’re good.” A crooked smile opens up his face. They can joke about the break-up now, they can tease. “I should have, uh, blocked the door or something.  Forced you to say.  We could have got all this talking out of the way then.”

“Hmm.”  Tommy smiles at him, but the expression fades after a moment.  He looks up to the ceiling and shifts his hand under his head.  His elbow sticks out and it shows off the strength of his arms. Buck wants to bite them.  His mouth waters at the thought and his hips twitch, but he ignores it, tries to keep himself under control.  There’s something thoughtful in Tommy’s face.  Something that, before, would have meant he was about to shut down and close up.  Buck watches as he takes a deep breath and decides to let him in instead.

Tommy’s head turns a little, rustling the pillow and he looks at Buck with eyes shot through with something like regret.

“You know,” he starts.  Then he huffs, a little curl of breath through his nose.  He licks his lips.  He looks back up to the ceiling and his lips quirk up, a wrinkle in the corner of a self-effacing smile.  When he speaks, his voice is quiet.  Low, even for the close, intimate setting they’re in.  “I think I wanted you to chase me.”

[2aceofspades]

pspspsp

Hey Ace your Leo is so friendshaped!

Oh! Oh??!

I had to I had to...hehe I had both Leos on my mind...

But awwwee thank you so much!! 🥹😭 Such a compliment oh gosh *melts*/pos pos pos

[softquietsteadylove]

I just reread My Kingdom for a Heart on AO3 (one of my faves of yours!) and I was wondering if you’d be willing to write a little continuation of that verse? Whatever inspires you! I’d just love to see the captain of the guard and royal advisor being not so sneakily flirty to each other while everyone is beggggging them to get a room

"You have been a wonderfully warm host, your Majesty," the visiting queen regent beamed at Sersi walking alongside her. She even turned over shoulder to look at the woman trailing just a few paces behind them. "And you, your Grace."

The royal advisor dipped her head to the visiting princess. "I am humbled, your Highness."

"Truly," the personable royal insisted, even stopping and stepping away from Sersi to invite her into the fold. "I have long admired the time you spent as queen regent over your own kingdom. I am visiting two queens of legend."

Thena offered a mild smile, while Sersi lowered her eyes shyly to the ground in modesty. Thena let the billowing sleeves of their dresses hide how she nudged her sister. "Her Majesty is too modest; she has done a fine job as Queen with the King at her side."

Sersi whipped her head up and put on a smile again; Thena was telling her not to lower her eyes from anyone. She was always catching her doing little things, like that. Little - unqueenly - things. "A-And we have admired the work you have done in your own kingdom, your Highness. We both know the demands regency brings."

"Ah," the princess offered with an equally modest smile, and perhaps a more honest slumping of her shoulders. "Indeed, it is rewarding, and demanding, in equal parts. I am beginning to consider the many offers of marriage simply to have someone to talk to about it."

The three women shared a laugh between them, understanding the desperation beneath such a jest. Thena picked up her skirts again, ready to fall behind the step of her Queen and their guest.

"Tell me...what of your Captain of the guard?"

Both Queen and princess turned as the royal advisor stumbled somewhat on the castle carpet. She kept her eyes directed at the ground (queen regent no longer, she could do that as a royal advisor).

Sersi accepted her sister's show of mortification, turning back to the princess. "The Captain? Uh, well..."

"Forgive me, your Majesty," the princess excused but did not throw the topic away with a wave of her hand. "I realise how poorly showing it is for me to ask such a thing."

Thena cleared her throat, coming to a stop as they did. She reminded herself of the distance she was supposed to keep. Remain over the Queen's shoulder at all times, never be more than three paces away to whisper something but do not hover so close as to listen to things not for her ears.

"But," the princess took on something of a grin. "Is he a wedded man? I confess I hope he is not."

Sersi's jaw hovered for just a moment before she remembered to clamp it shut. A queen did not flounder like a fish on a hook. She looked at her advisor, who was keeping her head down and out of it. The Queen drew her shoulders up and smiled. "To my knowledge, he is unwed."

The princess beamed. The royal advisor gripped her skirts tighter.

"But!" Sersi continued, even offering a gentle hand to the princess', outstretched in her excitement. "I do believe he is...promised to another."

"Promised?" the princess asked in clarification. "I did not realise commonfolk held such traditions."

"W-Well," Sersi tried to continue as if she were not writing her speech with the quill of her mind in the moment. "He is a man of high station, being the King's right hand. I am to believe he has...someone."

"Her Majesty is most shrewd," the princess dipped politely, acknowledging Sersi's lack of desire to whisper about her own king's-guard like housekeepers. However, that did not stop her.

Thena gulped as the princess gravitated back towards her. "Your Highness?"

"Her Majesty is shrewd," the princess dropped to a near whisper with her in conspiracy. "But it is the royal advisor's job to know everything within - and outside of - the court, is it not?"

She had her, there. Thena gripped her skirts so tightly the fabric may never lay flat again, she feared. "It is, your Highness."

"Do you know the Captain?"

The heat was beginning to get to her. Perhaps she could suggest to Sersi that they take their meal in the castle courtyard. "I do, your Highness."

"And?" the princess asked eagerly, but in such an inviting way. In another life, perhaps they would have been friends, trading secrets and laughing. But now, all Thena felt was panic. "Do you know if he is a married man or if I might-"

"He is committed."

The Queen also looked at her with highly piqued interest.

The princess let her disappointment show. "Committed?"

"Committed," Thena repeated, clearing her throat and ignoring her sister's gaze upon her like a hawk's on a fieldmouse. "I know of questions of this nature from others and the answer appears to be that he is...committed--to another."

"I see," the princess offered in a more dull tone. "I suppose that is to be expected. He is quite a handsome specimen."

Sersi's eyebrows raised as her royal advisor's pale skin took on slightly more colour.

Thena repeated the words that kept her anchored to her position. "Yes, your Highness."

Their visitor did not catch the peculiar behaviour of the stoic woman, though. She was having a delightful time speaking with her new allies--and friends. "Working with him is an enviable task."

The royal advisor resumed looking at the ground, unable to lift her skirts and dash off in escape, tethered to her few paces following them. "Yes, your Highness."

"Oh, your Grace, please," she smiled, even bending herself to meet the royal advisor's eye. "I am not asking as a regent, I am asking as a woman. A woman who is rather tired of bearing the weight of a kingdom alone, as it were."

Sersi closed the distance again, both connecting with the amiable princess, as well as covering her sister's exposed weakness. "We quite know what that is like, your Highness."

Thena did manage a shaky smile at that. She was glad her sister could have an ally, much more a friend. Someone with whom she need not stifle herself so constantly. She did her best to take in a breath. The question had truly taken her off guard.

"Do you know to whom he is," the princess slid her eyes between her new confidantes, "committed?"

Thena's jaw bobbed; she was floundering.

"Not that it is my place to ask," the princess amended quickly.

"Not at all," Sersi laughed off easily, still actively smoothing over Thena's ruffled exterior. "I could not say, I'm afraid. But I believe it is someone within the castle."

"A working marriage," the princess surmised with a smile. "Like something of a romance, isn't it?"

The Queen grinned, "I quite think so, your Highness."

Thena nearly gasped in relief when they turned the corner and she curtsied, "the throne room, your Majesty--your Highness."

The doors were opened for them, and Thena was finally able to slip around the two royals and slink her way up to her position over the right shoulder of the Queen's throne. She welcomed the flow of air, even if she was still feeling overheated.

"You okay?"

This was not helping. She tried not to seem that she was biting into her bottom lip as she met the eyes of the Captain in his position opposite hers. The thrones were wide, and he seemed oceans away at times, looming over the left of Ikaris' shoulder.

"What did you talk about?" he whispered as the Queen and princess took their time returning to the throne upon their raised floor.

"Nothing." It was less of an answer and more of a squeak. Thena looked to the side of the room, avoiding the Captain's discerning eye. He always knew when something was under her skin, an unfortunate remainder from when she had been the subject of his guarding.

Sersi finally broke away from her girlish whispering and giggling to look at the two unoccupied thrones. "Ikaris?"

Gilgamesh squared his shoulders. "His Majesty sends his apologies; the meeting with the generals is extending. It seems without his most trusted war advisor, he is...struggling to see eye to eye with them."

His eyes slid over to her. Thena used the back of the throne to disguise her waving her hand at him. She was the royal advisor, not the war advisor (not officially, at least). He enjoyed flattering her.

"Such capable advisors you have, your Majesty," the princess noted with a smile, although her eyes were rather locked onto the Captain.

"Quite, your Highness," he bowed slightly, wearing a smile of his own. Again, his eyes straight to his right. "A better, more wise advisor, there is not."

The royal advisor huffed faintly, feigning some annoyance with the heavy, heavy praise. The rest of the court seemed quite used to the exchange taking place. "Captain, you have polished your words so much I will fear for your armour's condition."

"Forgive me, your Grace," he answered formally, but his tone was more like a schoolboy teasing the object of his affection. "I speak only the truth. I fear for my station, the King and Queen are so well cared for with your guidance."

The princess' brows rose as the royal advisor offered a modest blush--and reticence. Her head swivelled between the two of them.

"You know very well we could not do without you, Captain."

It was quiet, but the room absorbed the words as if they had been screamed. Eyes rose and then dashed away politely from the confession, just as truthful, just as open, but much more scintillating.

The princess' mouth opened as she nodded, entirely for her own understanding. She looked at the Queen. "I see."

Sersi, no one's fool, also nodded with a kind expression. "Indeed."

"I must apologise," the princess lamented.

"Unnecessary, I assure you," Sersi offered, in a most queenly way, she was proud to say. She looked at her sister and advisor, who offered her approval of the statement.

"Thank you, your Majesty," the princess allowed, although she looked up at the royal advisor as well. "But my apology was directed elsewhere."

Gilgamesh looked at the ladies, not quite with all the pieces he needed. He looked at Thena again, who was still looking away from him, not that the royal advisor was without her shyness from time to time.

"Not at all, your Highness," Thena managed to mumble out with everyone's eyes on her. Her wringing hands were at least somewhat disguised behind the throne. "You were not to know."

"Well, seeing as your husband is still indisposed," the princess smiled again, ready to lift spirits with her mirthful nature. "I should like to continue talking with my new friends. Captain, if you would be so kind to escort us to your lovely castle gardens. Perhaps we might even like to take a meal, there."

"Of course, your Highness," the Captain dipped at the waist obediently. He couldn't even make it to his full height again before he was looking at the royal advisor once more. "Your Grace."

She gave him a withering look; she was going to tell him he couldn't speak with her so liberally in royal company later. But her hand slipped into his all the same as they descended the stairs keeping the throne separate from the rest of the room. The two found their place a mere few steps behind the royalty present. "As you wish, your Majesty--your Highness."

The princess grinned at them both before pulling Sersi in by the hands again. "You are a lucky woman, your Majesty. Dependable staff, a fine husband."

"Indeed," Sersi offered, catching the mischievous sparkle in the princess' eye. They would get along well.

"And a positively tantalizing working romance story, unfolding before your very eyes!"