#the black kaiser x reader

[radawaycunt]

more of duncan x reader ? pretty please ?, that man needs more love in his life , soft and gentle kisses that turn into something more anh anh

You know what? YOU KNOW WHAT???? I’m gonna do their first kiss. Let’s go crazy together <33 (im using car accident reader from the other blurbs btw)

——-

The night grew darker and the weather harsher. The power had gone out, and you and Duncan huddled close to the fire, nursing some hot chocolate.

He intently listened to you tell stories of your past, opting to stay quiet as you gestured around excitedly. His hand was on your knee, tracing small, soothing circles with his fingers. He was still getting used to this casual intimacy, but he cherished it deeply.

His greatest fear was the possibility of things ending between you. You were still in a nebulous place regarding your relationship, not having spoken of it yet. He let you do most of the moves, but he was slowly growing more confident as trust continued to build between you.

He was unsure of how you really felt for him, though he had seen affection in your gaze a few times... even if he was still unwilling to believe himself lucky enough to be on the receiving end.

"I don't really know what I was thinking, trying to road trip in the middle of winter," you said as you stared at the fire pensively, finishing the story of how you'd gotten there. "I just had to get away, you know? Get in the car and drive until nothing around me was familiar. So dumb... I'm just glad my survival instincts kicked in like that."

"You're very strong," he said reassuringly, squeezing your knee gently. "I admire that in you."

The way you looked at him then, eyes glittering in the low light, made his breathing hitch. A grateful smile spread across your face, but you shook your head.

"You're sweet, but I know what I did was stupid... You could even say I brought it upon myself."

"You're too harsh on yourself," he said, more solemnly. "Believe me, I know about mistakes."

"And maybe you're too forgiving of me," you teased, bumping your shoulder against his gently.

His eyes were immediately drawn to your lips, but even if he quickly looked back into your eyes, it was impossible for you not to notice.

You stared at each other for a moment, silence hanging between you like a tense line.

Then, in the faintest voice, you said. “Duncan?”

“Yes?”

“Can I… kiss you?”

The word caught in his throat, but he nodded. He stayed frozen as you slowly approached, sliding your body closer to his.

His eyes were low lidded as your lips tentatively touched his. Then you felt bolder, cupping his face, coaxing him into a deeper kiss.

The smallest sound of yearning escaped his throat and his hands hesitantly slid up your arms. He wanted to crush you against his chest, but he was using all of his self control to stay put.

You slid a little closer, letting him gently wrap his arms around you. It was sweet, overall, just exploring this new sensation between you. Your heart was jack hammering against your chest, and you felt giddy and juvenile.

You leaned your foreheads together after, just wanting to stay close. He kissed the tip of your nose and you shared a little smile.

“I’d been wanting to do that for some time,” You said, and the two of you chuckled.

“Me too.”

“So… Do you wanna do it again?”

Instead of responding, his lips met yours, and you kissed until the fire started to die down into embers.

——

[kxsagi]

Kindly requesting mma fighter!gf x blue lock boys 🙏

I’ve been hyperfixating on the idea for a hot minute and would like to know your take on these 🤭 As for characters, could you have Isagi, Bachira, Sae, Shido, Reo, Kaiser and Barou? (As well as any other characters you’d like to add) Thank you ☺️

“𝐝𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐛𝐚𝐝 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐚 𝐛𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐛𝐞𝐥𝐭”

a/n: this is giving “my girlfriend could kill me (and i’d let her)”

ft. itoshi sae, itoshi rin, isagi yoichi, bachira meguru, shidou ryusei, mikage reo, kaiser michael, barou shoei

itoshi sae

deadpan “wtf” when he first sees you break a guy’s nose clean in a sparring match. 

not scared of you… just extremely respectful of you. 

“remind me to never piss you off.” 

secretly enjoys watching your training vids. they're always playing in the background while he studies game footage or stretches. he says it's for "noise." 

loves that you can protect yourself. he doesn't worry when you're out late because who would even try you? 

your bruised knuckles get the gentlest kisses. he's silent about it, but you catch the softness in his eyes every time. 

itoshi rin

"your form’s off. tilt your elbow when you throw." 

yes. rin critiques your fighting technique. 

trains with you for fun, but it turns serious fast. you both end up full-sparring, and the neighbors call the cops because it sounds like a crime scene. 

lowkey turns into your water boy during competitions. towel ready, water open, dead silent but there for everything. 

he doesn't like people staring at you in your fight gear, but he'd never say that. instead, he’ll just glare until they combust. 

jealous when you get press attention – “they should be watching me, not her.” (he’s just petty + he loves you.) 

isagi yoichi

your biggest fan. like. front row, wearing a shirt with your name on it. 

he gasps when you throw punches like a mom watching her kid in a karate tournament. 

“wait wait wait was that a spinning elbow??? baby that was SICK!!!” 

always tries to “train” with you and ends up flat on his back every time. 

absolutely posts clips of you on his insta stories with heart emojis. 

when fans flirt with him, he literally goes, “my girlfriend would kick your ass in two seconds.” 

bachira meguru

he thinks it’s the hottest thing ever. 

challenges you to play-wrestling. ends up in a headlock giggling like a maniac. 

asks you to teach him cool moves just so he can show off in public and say “my girlfriend taught me that!” 

gets way too into your pre-fight rituals. “do you want me to braid your hair? can i scream like a hype man before you go in?” 

draws little doodles of you mid-kick. has a sticker of you on his phone case. 

actually becomes a little possessive when other fighters flirt with you. all smiley until he says, “she’ll break your nose if you try that again.” 

shidou ryusei

it’s a match made in hell. chaos x chaos. 

you two flirt by trying to knock each other out. 

sparring is just foreplay, honestly. 

“babe you broke my rib that was so hot.” 

starts fights in public just so you can jump in and “save” him. 

he’s obsessed with your strength. like, genuinely obsessed. will brag about you to strangers like “my girlfriend could kill you with her pinky.” 

also not-so-secretly into the idea of you pinning him. yeah… 

mikage reo

shocked at first. like, his elegant, stunning girlfriend… punches people for a living? 

gets over it fast and becomes the most extra supporter of all time. 

hires a videographer to make hype montages of your fights. 

“you need better sponsorships. i’ll call my manager.” 

wears suits to your matches like he’s at fashion week. 

deadass once tries to bribe your opponents to forfeit so you won’t get hurt. you banned him from doing that again. 

gets really flustered when you pin him against the wall. “d-don’t use your pro moves on me, babe… please…” 

kaiser michael

he acts cocky until he sees you knock someone out in 30 seconds. 

“... okay that was kind of sexy.” 

makes it his life mission to look cooler than you in public. spoiler: he fails. 

“you’re lucky i like strong women.” while actively looking like a golden retriever when you punch the heavy bag. 

kisses your bruises like it’s romantic. it kinda is. 

super competitive during sparring. refuses to go easy even when you dominate him. 

also: “imagine our kids. they'd be gods.” 

barou shoei

does NOT know how to process you at first. 

like. you fight?? professionally?? 

refuses to admit he’s impressed. instead he says “your guard’s sloppy.” 

you beat him in arm wrestling and he sulks for a week. 

but deep down? he’s proud as hell. watches all your matches. complains when they don’t show your good side. 

sometimes trains with you, but it always turns into a competition. 

super protective even though you clearly don’t need it. “don’t talk to her. she can handle herself, but i’ll break your jaw too.” 

© 𝐤𝐱𝐬𝐚𝐠𝐢

[quandledlngle69]

TW: drinking, clubs, flirting, mention of wanting a one night stand, fem!reader.

Imagining the Bastard München team going out to a club, and it’s easy for them to get girls for sure, but no one gets them more than Michael Kaiser. He’s always leaving at the end of the night with a girl or two, something his teammates have gotten used to, they were elite footballers after all. 

You and your girlfriends are sitting at the bar, giggling and gossiping away, an air of fruity alcohol and overly sweet perfume waffling in the air. The conversation topic changes when the bartender puts an espresso martini in front of you, telling you the guy with the choppy blonde dyed hair sitting in the booth brought it for you. 

You look where the bartender’s pointing, making eye contact with the handsome man who was smirking at you. Your girlfriends go crazy, anything but hushed whispers, telling you that was a famous footballer eyeing you, Michael Kaiser–and how attractive he was–blah, blah, blah.

As you sheepishly tell them to calm down, you feel a presence behind you, turning around when his friend–you think–taps you on the shoulder. 

Your head automatically cranks up at the figure looming over you. He says something about being asked to give Kaiser's number to you, but you're not listening. Your eyes take in his biscuit–brown locks, the ends dipped in a mulberry purple that matches his eyes. He has such a baby face, you thought, taking in the barely noticeable freckles dotted like constellations on his cheeks. He’s not as conventionally attractive as his fellow teammates, but you're looking at him with stars in your eyes. 

You don’t remember when he’s finished his rant, but you ask him his name. He says it's Ness, and he sounds nervous as he says it. You purposely repeat it back to him, and you like the way it rolls off your tongue–like hard rock candy.

You ask him to sit down on the bar stool next to you. He looks back at his table as if not expecting this, but eventually, he stiffly sits down.

You don’t talk to him about how attractive his teammates are, or ask him to do anything for you. No, you only ask him about him. Any attempt at his to mention Kaiser was shut down completely. You smile, and you giggle, and he finds you both have a lot more interests in common than he thinks. Every time you gesture at him to come closer with a curved finger, when you cup the side of your face to whisper in his ear, you think it's adorable the way the tip of his ears go pink.

Theres no sense of disgust coming from you, no hint of rejection in your perfect features, and Ness thinks his heart might implode.

Half an hour in, you're mindlessly kicking your feet, twirling your hair between your fingers, tracing the rim of your empty glass with a manicured finger. Your girlfriends and his teammates can’t believe the absolute bedroom eyes you were giving him. He’s never had such a pretty girl so openly interested in him before, he thinks he’s actively dreaming.

The biggest glossy pout is given to him when he states he can’t come home with you, and you slide him your phone instead, bluntly telling him to put his phone number in, not taking no for an answer. 

You blow him a kiss before sending him off back to his shocked teammates, dazed and overthinking.

You want that cookie bad, bad. And you were gonna get it no matter what.

Quandaledlngle69 © 2025

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ Credit for theme: dollbrbie

[h0mesickness]

୨୧ where you shouldn't be

he hates it. he hates the way his knees buckle, almost giving out, when something as simple as a waft of your scent passes his nose, (he’s memorized it by now). the way his chest squeezes when the heavens above bless him with the sight of your smile, the way his mind repeats every interaction he has with you, no matter how big or small, like a broken cd playing the same love song over and over. 

but most of all, he hates how you had no participation in how he feels, how you didn’t contribute to a single bit of it. how he can’t blame you. you’ve, somehow, without meaning to, effortlessly tore down the steel gates, opened up his heart and soul, crawled in it, and carved a little home for yourself. you seem to be content in staying there for a good amount of time, or even forever, now till the day his lungs stop pumping air and his body starts to turn cold he thinks. he hopes you’d still find a way to stay warm in there.

god, he hates it. he hates you. atleast thats what he wants to believe. 

gojo, megumi, geto (?), nanami (jjk), rin, sae, post wc kunigami, raichi, barou, shidou!!!, noa, kaiser maybe idk??? (bllk), yuno, zora, gauche perchance.., nozel (bc), and your favs!!

[ceruark]

what do you want from me?

[fem! kaiser x fem! shy! reader. university au.] synopsis: kaiser’s just a mean girl who’s found amusement in picking on you, as if this is high school and not college. what else could it possibly be? wc: 4.5k cw: explicit smut: fingering, oral sex. MDNI. a/n: wrote this with one hand, my bad guys

kaiser terrifies you.

you would say her reputation precedes her, but her striking looks come before even that: uneven yet perfectly styled blonde hair with the ends dyed blue, piercing eyes outlined in bold red eyeliner, and of course, the blue rose tattoo that starts at her neck and spans the entirety of arm. 

her appearance alone is enough to intimidate everyone she comes across, but her attitude wards off anyone bold enough to still try to come close to her. cold, condescending, and mocking, kaiser is notorious for her scathing comments and superiority complex, so it’s not odd that you—and most everybody you know and talk to—steer clear of her. 

so when she plops down into the seat next to you during the first class of the term, you involuntarily freeze, the pen you’d been twirling between your fingers going still. your heart sinks into your feet, and you can feel yourself break into a cold sweat as she unpacks her laptop from her bag and settles in. 

surely it won’t be that bad. all you have to do is not speak to her—not too difficult, given that it’s a large class and this professor doesn’t really do small group discussion. if you just keep your head down and mind your business, everything will be fine, right?

wrong. 

kaiser doesn’t like to be ignored. not that you’re ignoring her—you can’t really do that when she hasn’t spoken to you at all—but it’s obvious you’re avoiding her. you sit as far away from her as possible, always avert your eyes and busy yourself with something when she enters the classroom, and you never glance in her direction the entirety of the lecture, scurrying out of the room the second it’s finished. 

you don’t realize that such meek behavior is what will catch a predator’s attention in the first place.

it’s the start of the third week, a few minutes before class starts, when kaiser leans halfway across the table and into your space. 

“hey, maus,” she says, angling her head so she’s right in your line of vision. 

you startle a little, and she snickers at your reaction. 

“jumpy little thing, hm?” she tilts her head to the side in a way that feels mocking. your stomach twists with anxiety. she nods at your laptop and asks, “do you have a charger i could use?”

“oh, uh—” you glance at her laptop, checking if it’s the same charging port. “yeah, sure,” you answer, and rummage through your bag to get your charger out. “here.”

her fingers brush over yours in a way that’s too precise to be accidental when she takes it from you. you pull your hand back just a little too fast, earning another laugh from her. 

you grit your teeth as you stare at the front of the room, where the professor is getting set up. it’s going to be a long semester. 

by the sixth week, you’re fed up with her toying around with you, and you decide to show up to class a few minutes after the time she usually shows up—and sit in a different spot, all the way across the classroom. 

a bold move on your part, one that you’ll surely pay for.

now you’ve turned it into a chase. it’s a constant guess of when you should show up, and eventually, it reaches the point where you’re sliding into a seat with mere seconds to spare just so you can avoid her showing up after you and sitting beside you. 

by the eighth week, she breaks the unspoken rule of your little game and approaches you outside of the classroom.

you’re scrolling through your phone and loitering in a hallway close to your class, waiting for minutes to turn into seconds before the bell rings, when you feel an arm wrap around your shoulder. you can see the black-ink vines wrapping around it in your peripheral, and immediately go rigid in response.

“fancy catching you here, maus,” she says in that tone that sends chills down your spine. you glance up at her to see her smirking down at you. “how about we walk to class together?”

you stop trying to avoid sitting next to her—it’s inevitable that she’ll find you, somehow, no matter where in the building you’re hiding. 

but it’s far too late to undo the damage your decision has done, as it seems you’ve opened pandora’s box; kaiser continues to pester you anywhere on campus, no matter who you’re with or what you’re doing. she even shows up in places you know she really has no business being in, and you start to feel like you’re being hunted for sport.

you might be, with the way she looks at you like she wants to kill you. your friends give you a pitying look when you express this to them, some even looking at you like you’re a little dumb, but you don’t really get why. kaiser’s just a mean girl who’s found amusement in picking on you, as if this is high school and not college. what else could it possibly be?

you seal your fate—the one your friends have seen coming from a mile away—when you somehow end up helping the blonde out.

now, kaiser is more than capable of holding her own; this much is obvious, given her reputation around campus, and her displayed behavior toward you.

but if there’s anything you hate more than a mean girl, it’s a man with a massive ego who can’t take a hint.

some guy has his arms propped up against the table, standing in front of kaiser and leaning into her space. her face is fixed in cold neutrality, but her eyes are blazing with irritation and barely contained fury.

“c’mon, baby, don’t be like that,” you hear him say as you draw closer to your spot next to kaiser.

“not your baby,” kaiser says dismissively. “get out of my face or i’ll make you regret it, you worthless clown.”

“oh, yeah?” the brunette leans even closer. “is that a threat, or a promise?”

kaiser’s eyes narrow, and she’s sneering now. “you don’t wanna find out.”

the guy laughs, cocky and grating. “already did the last time you spent the night, but i could go for a refresher.”

you don’t like kaiser—you can’t stand her most days. but you’d sooner keel over and die before you stand by and let this happen.

you loudly set your laptop onto the table, drawing both of their attention to you. you lock eyes with the brunette as you sit down, and tilt your head to the side as if deep in thought. then, you gasp softly and hold a hand to your mouth, widening your eyes as you turn to kaiser.

“is this the one you were telling me about?” you say, quiet enough to pass as a whisper, but loud enough for the guy to hear. “the one who couldn’t make you come?”

the person on the other side of you coughs loudly into their hand. it sounds suspiciously like a laugh.

you watch as the brunette flushes bright red in fury.

“stupid bitch,” he spits at kaiser. “you’re ran through, anyway.”

he storms out of the classroom just as the professor is entering, leaving the poor bespectacled man confused as he nearly barrels him over in the midst of his dramatic exit.

kaiser whirls on you the second the professor starts his droning. she leans into your space, a common occurrence at this point, and coos at you as she balances her cheek against her palm and tilts her head at you. “was my little maus worried about me?”

“worried? no, you can take care of yourself.” you huff, “i just thought it would do him well to be humbled.”

“oh, you don’t have to lie to me, pretty girl.” the name is enough to catch you off guard, but the pen that twirls a strand of your hair around it has you jumping like you were at the start of the semester. “it’s clear you care about me.”

you look at kaiser, and though that same dark look you’ve gotten used to seeing is present, you no longer think it means she wants to kill you.

and you don’t think whatever feeling is settling in your stomach is dread anymore, either.

and of course, because nothing in this world can ever go your way, the professor does something unprecedented, something he’s never done for this class: he assigns a partner project, where you and someone else in the class will have to write a paper and present on the topic in class.

kaiser latches onto you before you can even finish processing how totally, utterly fucked you are. you two spend the class period settling on a topic and doing preliminary research. by the end of the period, you’re exchanging numbers and planning a meeting outside of class.

“we can meet at my apartment on friday,” she says, “it’s on this side of campus, so we can just head there after class.”

“i was actually thinking the library would work better,” you suggest, impressed with how you keep the desperation out of your voice.

“it’s a late class, we’ll probably want to eat dinner, so my apartment will work fine,” she says in a tone that leaves no room for argument. then she tilts her head at you in that calculating way, gives you a once-over, and asks, “you wouldn’t deprive me of a meal, would you?”

you spend the rest of the week mentally preparing yourself for whatever friday is going to bring.

it starts off fine. normal, even. she sets you both up in her room, claiming that her roommate might be back with some friends soon, so they’ll need the living room. you both sit criss-cross on her floor, laptops before you, and you actually manage to finish the essay and finalize your notes for the presentation.

you’re timing yourself on your part of the presentation when you sigh in frustration after stuttering over your words for the umpteenth time.

kaiser raises a brow at you. “what is it?”

you sigh. “i’m not good with being in front of people. surprising, i know.” you roll your eyes at her little smirk. “i just—if i look at someone when they’re looking at me, i freeze up. it’s distracting.”

kaiser hums. “so you have trouble presenting because of… distractions?”

you don’t like the way she said that, but she’s not exactly wrong. “i mean, i guess so.”

your stomach flips as she shuffles closer to you, sitting so close that your thighs are pressed together. “we’ll just have you practice with a distraction, then.”

she leans around you to start the timer on your phone, her chest brushing up against your arm as she does. you feel your mouth go dry.

“go on,” she says, staring at you. she still hasn’t leaned away from you. “you’re wasting time.”

clearing your throat, you begin reading from the script pulled up on your laptop. you’ve barely made it through three sentences when kaiser reaches up and begins trailing her fingers along your collarbone, occasionally snagging them on your necklace and giving it a tug.

after a mere minute of this, she unclasps the jewelry and sets it to the side.

then, she leans in and presses a kiss to your pulse.

you stutter to a stop, stiffening at the contact.

“so nervous,” she chides in between the quick kisses that she trails up and down your neck. “how do you expect us to pass if you’re going to freeze up like this, hm?”

swallowing down the want mounting within you, you continue reading, fighting to keep your voice steady.

you manage to get another uninterrupted minute in before you’re gasping as she presses a wet, open-mouthed kiss against your jaw.

“keep going,” she whispers into your ear, her hot breath fanning across your cheek.

your voice trembles as she grips your waist and tugs you closer into her side. she trails her mouth low, lower, until she’s sucking loudly at the junction between your neck and shoulder. the end of a word trails off into a needy whine as she bites down, and you can feel her smirk into your skin.

you’re halfway through the presentation when her hand moves from your waist to your jeans and begins undoing them. your voice gets a bit high-pitched as she slips a hand down them and trails it along your thigh, voice getting higher the closer she gets to the wetness building between your legs.

your breath hitches when her fingers graze over the wet spot on your panties.

“you’re not finished yet, maus,” she croons into your ear. “let me hear you, hm?”

you get a minute more into the script when she finally applies pressure to the area, expertly rubbing circles into your clothed clit. you keen and buck up into her hand, your words coming out breathy and each sentence punctuated with a light moan as she continues petting you.

“okay, i—” you release a shaky exhale as kaiser begins sucking at your neck again. “i’m done.”

kaiser hums into your skin, then pounces on you fully. in a flurry of movement, she takes your pants and panties off in one go, leaving you barren on her floor. you squeak as she forces you into her lap, spreading her legs wide and hooking yours around hers to leave you split open for her.

“wait, i—” you grab her hands before they can make it to your dripping cunt. she gazes down at you, voracious and impatient. “i’ve never done this before.”

she laughs—a little demeaning, and also low and amused. “i know, maus,” she says before grabbing you by the jaw and pulling you into a deep kiss. when you part, she strokes your cheek with her thumb. “let me take care of you, okay?”

you nod slowly, and she presses one more kiss to your lips before forcing your face forward.

you flush bright red when you realize she’s positioned you both in front of her mirror. you can see yourself dripping onto her floor, your clitoris puffy and pink from being teased.

“we have to get you to overcome your fear of audiences, hm?” you squeak as she bites at your ear, which is quickly followed by a moan when she brushes her fingers against your clit. “don’t move your head. i want you to watch.”

she traces slow, agonizing circles into your clit with one hand, slithering one finger into your hole with the other. you seize up at the intrusion, not used to the sensation, so she sets a slow pace, working you into it before picking up speed and, eventually, slipping a second finger in.

by the time the third makes it in, you’re a panting, writhing mess. watching her fingers thrust into you, coming out coated in even more of your essence every time, just makes the heat pooling in your gut even worse.

“‘s too much,” you slur out between whines. “too full.”

“don’t complain,” she commands, lightly smacking your clit and causing you to jolt. “you’ll take what i give you, hm?”

she curls her fingers cruelly, causing your thighs to jerk and a loud moan to rip itself from your throat. “answer me,” she says.

“yes,” you whine. “yes, i will, i will.”

“good girl,” she hums, then starts scissoring her fingers in and out of you at a breakneck speed. she moves her other hand away for just a moment to wrap her arm around your waist and adjust you in her lap. your ass is planted firmly against her crotch, and she starts rocking her hips against you as she continues fucking you on her fingers. 

it's not long before the last thread inside you unravels and you’re throwing your head back, crying out as you come undone on her fingers, hips bucking up into her hands and thighs shaking erratically. she fucks you through your orgasm, not easing up until you go slack against her, slumping against her chest with soft whines leaving you.

she pulls her fingers out of you and holds the digits in front of your face, spreading them wide. you watch, entranced, as your cum fills the space between them in stringy, sticky lines.

“what a messy girl,��� kaiser says lowly, “you should clean up after yourself.”

she presses her fingers to your closed lips. in your haze, you open them without protest, allowing them to enter your mouth and tasting yourself on them.

you lock eyes with her in the mirror. her gaze is dark, and you wonder how you ever thought she wanted to do anything besides devour you whole.

“suck,” she commands.

your cheeks hollow out around her fingers as you obey, and the shaky breath she exhales goes straight to your core, lighting it up again.

when you’ve sucked them clean, she takes her fingers out of your mouth and rises to her feet. swiftly, she unbuttons her own shorts and tosses them to the side, her panties, bra, and shirt following them. 

she sits down on her bed, then beckons to you with the fingers still wet with your saliva. “come here.”

on wobbly legs, you move to join her on the bed. she grabs you by the hips when you reach the edge, digging her nails into your flesh and squeezing at the plushness there.

“on your knees,” she instructs as she guides you into a kneeling position on top of the bed. she holds you by the waist so that you’re suspended in the air while she slips a thigh in between your own. her legs interlock with yours, and you bite your trembling bottom lip at the sensation of her bare pussy pressed against your thigh, and yours against her thigh.

her hands slide up your waist, fingers hooking into your shirt and tossing it off the side of the bed in one fluid motion. with one hand, she unclips your bra and discards it in the same manner. 

with both hands cupping your face, she pulls you in and kisses you deeply, rocking her hips and grinding down on your thigh. your soft whimpers are muffled by her tongue as she shoves it down your throat and traces the crevices of your mouth. she pushes you flush against the headboard with her body, the feeling of her breasts pressed and bouncing against yours making warmth flood the area between your legs.

hesitantly, you reach a hand up to cup one of her breasts, experimentally running a finger over her nipple. with a soft grunt, she places her own hand over yours and squeezes, encouraging you to be rougher. after only a few minutes of groping and pinching her nipples, she’s moaning into your mouth, her thrusts now faster and harder as she chases after her own satisfaction.

suddenly, she pulls away from your mouth, and you barely have a moment to process the long trail of saliva between you two before she’s grasping the back of your head and shoving you toward her chest.

she doesn’t need to say the command a second time for you to know what she wants; you part your lips and latch yourself onto her, sucking as much of her breast into your mouth as you can and running your tongue over and around her nipple.

a deep moan leaves her, reverberating through her chest and against your face. she snakes one arm around your waist and pulls you as close as she can, to the point where you feel like you’re going to be suffocated by her breasts. she ruts against you mercilessly, drawing low whines out of the back of your throat.

“fuck,” she groans breathily, scratching lightly at your scalp as you continue sucking. “you make the sweetest sounds, maus.” her hand untangles itself from your hair and suddenly she’s kneading and pinching at your chest, escalating your whimpers into soft, fast moans. “sing for me, hm?”

you keen loudly, and the sultry laugh she lets out in response is almost enough to tip you over the edge on its own.

after a particularly harsh suck that’s more teeth than lips and tongue, kaiser hisses and bucks her hips once, before a string of moans spill out of her mouth as she erratically spasms against your thigh. her hand flies up to the back of your head and she grabs a fistful of your hair and pulls as she rides out her high.

with one last groan that peters out into a huff of air, she slackens her hold on your hair and waist, coaxing you off of her breast and allowing you to rest against the headboard. you feel your face flush when you see the angry red, already purpling marks left all over her breasts.

kaiser chuckles, running her fingers along them. “hungry little thing, aren’t you?” she teases. she lifts herself off your thigh, and you get even hotter at the stickiness that momentarily stays suspended in the air between her cunt and your thigh as she does.

she grabs one of the pillows from the other side of the bed and slips it beneath your hips. your breath hitches when she trails her fingers along the inside of your thighs before grabbing them and pulling them apart. you begin to tremble again as she lowers herself between your legs, leering up at you from beneath lidded eyelids as she does.

“it’s only fair if i eat, too, right?”

you gulp as she presses a kiss to your clit. your whole body jolts with a mewl when she parts them and sucks the bud into her mouth, the pressure sending shocks up your spine.

“ka—” you break off into a moan as she slips two fingers into you and sets that ruthless pace from earlier, the pleasure mounting into something that is entirely too much, too fast. “kaiser—”

she pops off your clit suddenly, her hot breath teasing the abused area. “michelle,” she corrects. “say it.”

“michelle,” you whine. “please.”

“please, what?” she takes her fingers out of you and begins rubbing her thumb in slow circles over your clit. “use your words.”

“please,” you say, nearly a hiccup. “please make me come.”

she hums in approval, cooing, “well, since you asked so nicely.”

she increases the pressure she rubs into your clit, and any confusion over her finger placement is immediately cleared up when something else enters your hole. you squeal in surprise as she slithers her tongue into you, moving it into your gummy walls as far as she can and swirling it around. your stomach and chest heave as you moan her name out in loud pleas, your hand coming down to stroke her hair as you involuntarily jolt your hips up against her face.

you’re close, so close—walls fluttering and the pitch of your voice crescendoing into high-pitched whimpers—when she suddenly pulls away from you.

“michelle?” you whine in confusion. she smirks at you as she tilts her head to the side, resting it against your thigh. your leg twitches involuntarily as she traces a tantalizing finger up and down your clit.

she calls your name, the syllables of it dripping off her tongue like honey. “it’s almost the end of the semester, you know. will you forget about me once this class is over?”

as if you can forget her after everything she’s done to you this afternoon. “i won’t,” you whisper.

she sighs, all faux sorrow. “but how do i know that? after all, you were trying so hard to get rid of me earlier.” you hiccup as another finger begins teasing your entrance. it distracts you from the harsh edge her voice takes when she asks, “you’ll just toss me to the curb like trash like everyone else does once you’re satisfied, won’t you?”

“no,” you whine. “don’t wanna.”

michelle takes in your needy expression with dark eyes. “don’t wanna what?”

“don’t wanna with anyone else,” you say, too dazed to try and stop yourself. “only you.”

the teasing movements suddenly stop, causing you to whine. she ignores it as she asks, “do you mean that, maus?”

that snaps you back to reality enough to give a better response. “i wouldn’t be doing this with just anyone,” you say, averting your eyes to the floral patterned bedsheets. you blush as you admit, “you’re my first because i wanted you to be.”

after a long moment of silence, she calls for you again. “look at me.”

you feel your breath hitch as you meet her eyes again. she’s always intense, but her gaze is sharper than you’ve ever seen, downright predatory and something else that you can’t quite place.

she licks a slow, agonizing strip up your folds before she says, “i’m going to make you come, then you’re going to be mine, got it?” she kisses your cunt again. “no one else is ever going to see you like this.”

before you can respond, she’s shoving her tongue back into your hole, fucking into you with a ferocity that wasn’t there all afternoon. her fingers expertly pinch and prod at your clit, rapidly working you back up to the point you were at when she stopped.

“michelle,” you cry out, “‘m gonna— ah—”

she moans into your pussy and gives one harsh pinch to your clit. with one last jolt, you throw your head back and devolve into a mess of whines and spasms as michelle works you through your orgasm.

you’re so out of it that you don’t even realize she’s pulled away from the space between your legs until she’s settling herself on top of you, straddling your waist. she takes a moment to admire your fucked-out expression before bringing her thumb to your lips and forcing them apart.

she presses her lips to yours, and you whimper as she shoves her tongue into your mouth, still coated in your come. after spitting and transferring most of it into your mouth, she pulls away, guiding your lips shut with her fingers.

“swallow,” she orders. she’s so close, her blue eyes taking up your entire vision as you gulp down what she’s given you, what she’s fed you so tenderly.

after watching your throat bob, she presses another kiss to your lips, surprisingly soft.

she pulls your head to rest against her chest, running her fingers through her hair. “so good for me,” she whispers. “you’ll stay right here, hm?”

you hum in agreement as your eyes flutter shut, exhaustion beginning to weigh down on you.

“good.” the feeling of her lips brushing against your ear has your eyes flying open again, your heart rate quickening.

“because i’m just getting started with you.”

[voidcat]

One thing Michael Kaiser enjoys without doubt, even before the two of you evolve into anything more, is when you sit on top of him, looking down with a smug grin plastered onto your face.

To feel your body against his abdomen, with each breath, chuckle he lets out and pinching you do on his skin. “It’s a lovely scene from up here.” You claim as a hand traces over his features and he knows there is more to it.

Enjoying the illusion of being in control, without a doubt every time you do this, he relishes in breaking this apart twice as much. Hands placed on your knees, slowly making their way up your thighs and higher, kneading your flesh and drawing little patterns with his thumb as they hover over your waist and press you down there further. Got you exactly where he wanted, he moves you to his content, a little display of it’s him that’s always in control as the two of you let out a sigh of relief, aching for more, begging to be closer as you can, inhumanely possible.

What changes over the time is the sincerity of your gazes. With his hair sprawled underneath him, he looks ethereal, a sight floating in a river, deserving to be frozen in time, captured for ever. He is gorgeous, and your gaze is filled with so much adoration.

He finds later- a little too far late, not that he minds at that point- that he isn’t any better. Looking up at you with something that matches your feelings and more, love and sparks of something that runs deeper, tying around the two of you tightly with no way of cutting that red string off. Eyes that stay on you like you’ve hung the stars, the sun, the entire cosmos with the same hands you love him with and once snapping out of his haze, Kaiser closes the gap between the both of you as he pulls you in deeper, swallowing you whole into the singularity that is you and him.

[yanderebluelockfan]

HEYYY LADIES CHECK OUT OUR PRETTY LITTLE IDDY BIDDY "CITY BOYYY"✨✨✨

BRO IS TOO MAJESTIC TO HANDEL ✨😭✨

I WANNA COMB HIS HAIRS SO BAADD ✨😭😍🔪💖💕🤌🤙😉💗💥💯🚒🔥💋🙏❤️🥵

[cheezritsu]

Blue Lock Boys in: What Natural Hairstyles do they like?

These are my personal thoughts on what hairstyles blue lock boys like on black women, you can either discuss civilly or argue with the wall if you're going to be mean. Examples/ links to each style is included!!

Isagi Yoichi: he likes twist outs! Really, he just likes big fluffy hair and twists outs, wand curls and blowouts reallllly are his fave. He likes the way it crowns your face, how it gives you a bunch of hair to work with and shape. Putting in a little headband? Nice. Side part with a pretty clip? Wow!! You look like an actress!! Half up half down?? You’re literally ethereal!! he likes to lay on it too; that’s definitely his favorite part. It’s soft to lay his head on while you’re sitting together on the train, or set his chin on when he’s just waiting in line. He thinks you’re a little angel with your hair like a cloud. x x

Mikage Reo: wigs, which feels wrong? lol you joke that he must hate your hair because he’s always buying you wigs and paying for installs but in all honesty he loves that you can be a whole new person. Keeps him on his toes. Has an affinity for longer hair, but likes different colors, kinda close in tone to his (what a surprise.) You could show up to his match in oversize sunglasses and a new wig and he’ll be like actually where the hell in my girlfriend. And when he finally sees you he’s like “hmmm idk I have a realllly fine woman waiting for me at home :/" “am I prettier than her?” “Nah, you just have different hair”

Nagi Seishiro: box braids. It’s boring but it was the first protective style he ever saw you wear and it blew him away. like you just suddenly had these long braids he could play with. He’s so weird, he like takes the end and runs it over his cheek and he’s like “feels good. Like a tiny paint brush. It’s soothing.” Like whatever baby genius! he also likes all the hairstyles you can pull off: his fave is the half up in space buns look cause it looks very much like a magical girl transformation. x x

Itoshi Sae: wildly enough, sae likes just the natural curls and coils. He’d like a twist out or a braid out too; anything that makes spirals. Lots of people in Spain had curly or textured hair and it really was the first time he experienced textured hair. It’s so pretty. It takes up space and it’s unapologetic and it really just enhances a woman’s natural beauty. Yeah. God forbid you have a curly up-do or a slick back with your curls out around itoshi sae. He’ll go insane. x x

Shidou Ryusei: Detailed cornrows/ Fulani braids. Can you get a shape in there? Can you get beads? curly strands? The more intricate the better. He likes when it makes sound or fucking defies gravity. He’s legit jealous. LOVES baby hairs too. He tried to cut baby hairs so you could do his edges like whoa ‼️lets calm down!! When he’s being a brat he’ll make you lay your head on his chest and trace your parts like a freak. It’s like a map to him? Like those maze games. He also will give you a scalp massage or oil your scalp down. Plus he loves if you use an actual durag to keep it in check. Calls you a g and chest bumps you. He’s so fucking stupid lol x x

Bachira Meguru: also loves hair in its natural coils, kinks, and curls. He thinks it’s so cool looking. He sees it as an extension of you and he loves that you can twist it and shape it all different types of ways! Will ask you if he can do your hair (do not let him!! at least, please help in out lol.) He loves adding accessories like barrettes, bows, clips etc. He’ll def try to match hair styles with you, like space buns, claw clips, little butterfly clips etc. Will also match said hairstyle. x x

Itoshi Rin: French curl braids. Although I'm a very big believer that Rin Itoshi loves alt hairstyles, this feels right too. They’re pretty and he thinks of them as refined. He loves walking around with you when you have French curl braids. You also buy into the stereotypes of French curl braids and dress and do your makeup accordingly. Rin thinks it’s funny to point of but also loves having you on his arm in public. Like ah yes, I’m Rin Itoshi I’m the best spiker in the world and my girlfriend is the prettiest fucking princess ever. Be warned though, he pulls hair. x x

Hyoma Chigiri: hear him out: y'all have the best hair together when you get a silk press. The INCHES. The silkiness. He thinks it makes your face the center of attention and frames it sleekly. Plus, y'all can do matching styles! He always tries out his signature half braided hairstyle on you and loves when you wear it to matches. He also likes when y'all just brush each others hair. Whatever your maintenance routine for your hair is, chigiri learns it so when you’re extra tired he’ll do it for you. (In return you gotta learn his. It’s the rule.) x x

Tabito Karasu: faux locs. Ohhh girl don’t have faux locs and be thirty feet NEAR this mf. He pisses me off. He thinks the extra long ones are so fucking dope. He likes the styles too, like the giant bun or the half up half down. He just loves how it looks too, like you’re so cool. He likes butterfly locs too btw, thinks you look like a fairy. x x

Eita Otoya: goddess braids. It’s peak baddie hair. He pays for it. Mans has barely ever let you pick another hairstyle. He tells people all types of extravagant lies about you when you get your hair done. It’s stupid. He also will post you on his insta??? his story at least. Damn, he really fuckin launched you cause of some goddess braids. Menacing. x x

Micheal Kaiser: French curl braids. And he’s annoying about it. What else do you need to know? (alright, alright. Kaiser has a lot of romantic imagery around him and he’d love someone with a romantic hairstyle. You’re soooo princess. Adorn yourself with bows and he’ll be at your beck and call. He loves if you’re ultra feminine with it, like pearl headbands and lacy bows and frilly hats. He spams his insta with you, showing off your beauty.) x x

Oliver Aiku: locs. Aiku loves him some originality, and he loves a bitch with locs. Bonus points if they’re dyed a color that’s oh so perfect for you. The styles are always top tier and always in awe of how it can be switched up. He’s seen people do really cool things with their locs, and he’d love to kinda see what it’s like to maintain them. When he realized it wasnt as effortless as he imagined he starts asking a million and ten question it feels like an interview. He’s just excited. He feels smug having you in his arm cause you’re gorgeous, you’re 1 of 1 and he has massive respect for you? He wins. x x

Sendou Shuto: wand curls: blowouts. He likes the big fluffy curls, kinda like these. He wants a Hollywood actress and that floaty hair of yours reminds him of old school glamour. And if you added a pearly headband or a ribbon or a headband? UGH. With a red lip? GAHH!! he’s head over heels. x

Barou Shohei: Fulani braids. Bruh. The designs?? Barou loves that shit. Listen, he’s the king so obviously you’re his queen, and you’ve gotta have the coolest, flashiest hair so ppl know their place if you’re around. Design? yes. Beads? YES!! And if you get anything remotely similar to the design in his hair he’s going to drop to one knee. For fucking real. x x x

[eringobragh420]

This list is open for ALL the wrestlers on the list of who I write for, which can be found here. If you want someone not listed, go ahead and send an ask because I might have just forgot them. REQUESTS CLOSED. KINKS UNDER THE CUT »»-----------► all of my works feature female characters/readers. »»-----------► pink represents already requested »»-----------► purple represents fulfilled

── .✦ anal. ── .✦ strap on. ── .✦ cnc (consensual nonconsensual). ── .✦ pregnancy. ── .✦ a/b/o dynamics. ── .✦ slavery (willing). ── .✦ daddy kink. ── .✦ cock worship. ── .✦ biting. ── .✦ striptease. ── .✦ cheating. ── .✦ muscle worship. ── .✦ begging. ── .✦ spanking. ── .✦ high/drunk sex. ── .✦ dacryphilia. ── .✦ car sex. ── .✦ virginity. ── .✦ voyeurism. ── .✦ tattoos. ── .✦ brat-taming. ── .✦ tied-up/restrained. ── .✦ power imbalance. ── .✦ degradation. ── .✦ spitting. ── .✦ praise. ── .✦ impact play. ── .✦ dumbification. ── .✦ keeping quiet. ── .✦ cuckholding. ── .✦ size kink. ── .✦ face-sitting. ── .✦ on someone else's bed. ── .✦ fingering/handjob at family gathering. ── .✦ church. ── .✦ bdsm. ── .✦ sir kink. ── .✦ facials. ── .✦ fight sex. ── .✦ blackmail. ── .✦ age gap/play (always over 18, probably over 21). ── .✦ hair-pulling. ── .✦ acarophilia (arousal from scratching or being scratched). ── .✦ panty-sniffing. ── .✦ partner swap. ── .✦ vicarphilia (arousal from someone else's experience). ── .✦ pet play. ── .✦ titty-fuck. ── .✦ corruption. ── .✦ requester's choice.

[radawaycunt]

Tender

Also on AO3

Pairing: Duncan Vizla x Fem!Reader

WC: 4.2k words

Summary: based on this blurb of Duncan saving you after your car crashed near his cabin during a snowstorm. He nurses you back to health and you wait out the storm with him, growing closer with each passing day.

Warnings: angst (light), a little instance of whump (car accident, sickness), fluff, mutual pining, lovey dovey smut, unprotected p in v (dont do it at home), aaand honestly i think thats it! But lmk if anything else!

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

Everything had been a blur at first. The dark, winding roads that your high beams could barely break through. The unforgiving flurries of snow that enveloped your car, almost turning it into a glistening white tomb. The fear, the sobbing, and the pleas for your stupidity to be forgiven. 

Ironically, it was the crash that saved you. Nothing deadly, of course, given how slow you were driving. But it was still enough to give you whiplash, your sense of survival numbing you to anything else.

The chill seeped to your very bones as you pulled yourself out, looking around at your dark, unfamiliar surroundings. A sea of nothing… and then there was another beacon of light, off in the distance. You could weep with joy if you’d been able to.

Stumbling there had seemed eternal, perhaps punishment for putting yourself in that situation in the first place. You fell once or twice, still disoriented, but you didn’t rest until you reached your destination — an old cabin, with only one of the porch lights on. It had to be fate.

You barely remembered actually getting there, much less knocking on the door. But suddenly there was a tall, rugged man in the doorway, disheveled in a way that indicated he’d just woken up. The sight of you gave him a momentary pause, but then he ushered you inside.

He sat you before the fire and brewed tea for you, worried at your lack of speech. He’d tried asking questions without much luck, and in the end, all you could give him was your name. Warmth returned to you slowly after that, reaching your extremities last. Clarity was still far from your mind, though, especially as the warmth turned into a fever. 

He nursed you all through the night, driven by a sudden protective streak. Truthfully, the whole thing had been a whirlwind, leaving him with more questions than answers. Still, even if you were a stranger that he couldn’t yet absolve from suspicion, he couldn’t just leave you as you were. 

He’d tucked you into his bed, adding an extra blanket on top, and sat on a pillow beside it. He kept a cold compress on your forehead, trying to keep the fever from worsening. It had been strange at first, taking care of someone other than himself. The sight of you, with a feverish pallor and shuddering so hard your teeth clacked, was piteous. 

Many times in the past, whether or not someone lived had been a decision he had to make, but this wasn’t the case. Nothing had ever made him feel more helpless, not knowing what else he could do to keep you going. It made his heart squeeze with anxiety, strangely enough.

You murmured things in your sleep he couldn’t quite understand, restlessly tossing and turning. That reassured him that at least you weren’t slipping away. A part of him couldn’t help but find it fascinating. 

He had been living alone out there for a long time, not having much of a chance for this sort of human interaction. And when he did have a chance to interact with others, well… It wasn’t exactly to be a tender caregiver. 

By the time morning came and a thin, watery light filtered in through the windows, he had fallen asleep slumped against the bed. His head was resting near one of your hands, and when you woke up, you noticed your fingers were woven through his graying locks. 

You blinked, trying to comprehend the sight. Without moving, your eyes darted around as you tried to gather your bearings. A piercing headache made you wince, but still, some memories of the previous evening floated back to you. 

You hadn’t gotten a proper chance to take a look at your savior before, but from what you could tell he was strong and muscular under his winter clothes. He had a thick mustache and salt-and-pepper stubble, but you couldn’t see all of his features very well from that angle.

Slowly, so as not to disturb him, your hand retreated from his hair. Still, he woke up immediately, lifting his head. Your eyes met as you two froze, unsure of how to proceed.

“U-um… Hi,” you said, your voice raspy and weak. 

“Hello,” he said, clearing his throat. “How… How are you feeling?”

“Alive, but just barely. Kinda loopy… like I’m still in a dream.”

He stood up, both wanting to put some distance between you and wanting to be helpful. He clenched and unclenched his fists nervously. 

“Can I get you anything?”

“Maybe some water, please, um…” you stared at him, prompting.

“Duncan,” he said, realizing he hadn’t had the chance to tell you. 

“Duncan,” you repeated. “Um, well this is an interesting situation. I’m really sorry about, you know, almost dying at your doorstep.” 

He huffed in amusement, one of the corners of his full lips pulling up in a faint, relieved grin. He was very handsome, you decided, taking in his dark eyes, slightly crooked nose, and chiseled jaw. A little weathered perhaps, but that only added to his look. 

You hoped that, in contrast, you didn’t look just as horrible as you felt. But that had to be the least of your worries at that moment. First thing on the list was making sure you recovered and were able to continue on your way after.

“It’s all good, I’m just glad you didn’t actually die,” he said. “I’ll try to make sure it stays that way.”

You nodded gratefully. He went over to the kitchen and brought back a glass of water. You painstakingly sat up on the bed and downed it all in one go, not having realized you were absolutely parched. He got you another one, but this time he tried to get you to drink it slowly.

“Any better?” He asked, brows slightly furrowed. “I could make you some food, too, if you’re hungry.”

“I want to help,” you said, starting to push the covers off of yourself. 

Your aching muscles made you wince, grimacing, and he set a tentative hand on your shoulder to stop you. Then, realizing his actions, his hand quickly retreated.

“It’s, er, no trouble. Probably better for you to conserve energy. Do you like oatmeal?”

You nodded, still unsure. “Are you sure? I have troubled you so much already…”

“It’s okay, really,” he insisted. “I did just tell you I’d make sure to keep you alive, didn’t I?”

His attempt to lighten the mood was punctuated with a small, awkward grin, which you found incredibly charming. You relaxed a little at that, smiling sheepishly in return.

“Alright, but as soon as I’m better, you can’t stop me from helping.”

——————————

In the next couple of days, your health began to improve. Your fever finally abated on the third night, and by the next morning, you were up and about. You kept your promise about helping around the place, and there truly was nothing Duncan could do to stop you.

He’d thrown your clothes in the washer while you showered, so you had to wear one of his large flannel shirts. It reached past your knees, and you had to fold the sleeves back a few times, but it was very comfortable otherwise. 

You shooed him away while you made breakfast, insisting it was your turn to treat him. It was the least you could do after everything.

He sat in his armchair, the book on his lap forgotten as he covertly watched you move around the small kitchen. He was fascinated by the domestic image, never having thought he could attain it. Already you breathed life into the cabin, smiling and humming softly to yourself, feeling better than you had felt in a long time.

You’d grown closer in those past days, talking whenever you were awake. He had already ruled out any suspicion and was willing to be more open with you. He didn’t speak much about his job, though, and he’d deeply appreciated you not pushing the subject.

You had your own secrets to keep, after all, and you understood the importance of one’s personal privacy. You were still strangers, even if you owed him your life. Beyond that though, you felt comfortable with him, safe. Despite his tough seeming exterior, he was a softie underneath, and not to mention a gentleman. 

You couldn’t help being drawn to him, and it seemed he couldn’t help but be drawn to you in return. He was a little better at being subtle about it, though, especially since he didn’t really know what to do about what he was feeling.

“How do you like your eggs?” You asked, glancing at him over your shoulder.

He cleared his throat, shaking his head a little to snap himself out of his thoughts. 

“Er, scrambled or fried, whatever you prefer,” he said, picking his book back up only to read the same sentence over and over again.

You chuckled softly, noticing the tips of his ears had gone red. When you finished cooking, you served him at the small dining table and sat across from him. You heard the distant howl of wind outside the window, but the storm didn’t seem to be nearly as bad anymore. 

“Think it should die down in a couple more days, right?” You said.

Duncan glanced out of the window and thought for a moment. “Yes, I think so. Winter’s been harsher this year.”

“It’s what we get for living so far up north, I guess,” you sighed. “I live in Triple Oak proper. Small apartments don’t really have the best heating. I have a lot of blankets, though, so that helps some.”

“You live by yourself?” He asked before he could think about it.

You nodded, moving your food around your plate nervously. “Yeah, kind of recent, but it was a long time coming.”

He grunted in response, turning back to his food. He would always return the courtesy of not pressing, and you were infinitely thankful for that too. 

The two of you ate in silence for a moment, and you snuck a glance at him. There were no signs in the cabin that anyone else had lived there for a while, but you could never be too sure. 

“I don’t want to presume but… you’re not exactly waiting for more company either, are you?” You tried to sound as casual as possible despite the embarrassment of asking in the first place.

“No,” was all he said, and again you left it at that. 

“Do you ever get scared a bear might get you out here?” You asked instead, changing the subject.

He chuckled. “No, but I have seen some around a few times. We mostly stay out of each other’s ways.”

You blinked. “Mostly?” 

“Well, I can’t just let them rummage through my trash cans.”

You could be a bear yourself, the size that you are. The thought came into your mind unbidden, and you felt your face heat up. It would be a lie to say you hadn’t checked him out more than once. Or thought of his strong arms enveloping you, your fingers running through his hair…

You took a shaky sip of coffee, trying to remain composed. To your luck, he didn’t seem to notice.

“It has definitely been nice having some company,” he said softly, not looking at you. 

“Yeah, I think so too,” you said with a small smile. “Crazy as it was… It was really good to meet you, Duncan.”

He smiled in return, glancing up. There was something between you, some sort of energy, that felt inevitable. It was all just a matter of when, and based on the fact that you couldn’t really leave the cabin, well… The clock was ticking.

When you finished eating, you cleaned up as he went to build a fire in the hearth. You insisted on helping with some other chores, like cleaning up the mess that the cabin had become in just a couple of days. 

You wished you could open the windows and let some fresh air in, but that would have to wait until the storm had subsided. The two of you worked in different sections of the cabin for the next few hours, getting a lot more done in a lot less time.

Once you were finally done, you slumped down before the fire. Duncan sat next to you, leaving a respectable distance between you. You wanted to tell him you wouldn’t bite if he sat any closer, but you weren’t brave enough to be that forward yet. 

“We kinda make a good team, don’t we?” You said, leaning back and stretching your legs in front of the hearth.

He nodded, glancing at you sideways. His eyes were drawn down to the smooth expanse of your bare legs, the orange light of the flames flickering over them. He swallowed hard and looked away, willing himself to keep it together. 

You inched closer to his side until your hands were barely touching. He tensed a little at the contact, but didn’t move away. His heart started pounding in his chest. 

“It really is pretty cozy in here,” you said, sighing contentedly. “I’m definitely going to miss it when I go back home.”

“You may stay as long as you need,” he said, internally dreading the moment of your parting. 

“That’s very sweet of you, but I wouldn’t want to overstay my welcome… I kind of feel like I already am.”

“Not at all,” he said resolutely, frowning slightly. “But even so, you may also visit whenever, my door will always be open to you.”

“Bonded for life, huh?” you teased, playfully bumping his arm with yours.

He huffed in amusement. “Something like that.”

You glanced down at your hands and ever-so-slowly, you hooked your pinky over his. Your entire face felt warm, and for a moment you thought he might pull his hand away… but he didn’t.

“I’ll definitely take you up on it,” you murmured, grinning wryly. “You’ll get sick of me coming around so much.”

He shook his head. “I don’t think I could.”

In a moment of supreme boldness, he decided to wrap his arm around your shoulders. He brought you closer to his side, making your breathing hitch. He was warm and smelled faintly of pine needles and cigarette smoke. You leaned your head against him.

“It’ll be pretty quiet around here without you, that’s for sure,” he added, resting his chin on the top of your head. 

Your heart hurt for him then. You wanted to help him not feel so lonely, to show him the same tenderness and care he had shown you – which you both so desperately needed. You pulled back slightly to look at him, your faces inches apart. You searched each other’s eyes for something – perhaps confirmation – and it was yours that flicked to his lips first. 

“U-um…” you breathed, not entirely sure of what to say.

Turns out, you didn’t need to say anything. He leaned in, gently cupping your face with his free hand, and his lips met yours. It was just an experimental peck first, but when your mouth sought his again, it became a proper kiss. You melted against him, clinging onto his sweater as your lips parted to give his tongue access.

You kissed for what seemed like an eternity, unrushed, just enjoying the feeling of one another. He pulled you onto his lap and you wrapped your arms around his neck. His large hands had settled on your hips, inches away from the bare skin of your legs. 

Then you pulled back, dazed and panting, leaning your forehead against his. Your heart was beating fast, thumping against his chest. You tucked some hair away from his face and gazed at him for a moment.

“Sorry if I took you by surprise,” you whispered with a sheepish grin. “I just… really wanted to do that.”

“Not as much as I did,” he joked, wrapping his arms around your waist. 

You raised an eyebrow, amused. “Oh, but you were just waiting for me to make a move first, weren’t you?”

“Maybe…” 

The two of you laughed, and there was a giddy feeling in your chest. The look on his face was earnest and hopeful, but there was something there that told you he still couldn’t believe it was happening. You cupped his face, gently stroking his cheeks with your thumbs. 

You bit your lip to contain a grin. “Do you want to do it again?”

“You don’t even need to ask,” he said, seconds before he pulled you back in. 

—-----------------------

Later that night, as you were starting to settle in for bed, you watched as Duncan grabbed stuff to sleep on the couch once again. You were internally debating whether or not to say something, but your desire for more overrode your doubts.

“Um, Duncan…” you said, fidgeting with the edge of the blanket nervously. “Do you want to maybe… share the bed tonight? I feel so bad about forcing you to sleep uncomfortably.”

He stopped mid motion and looked over at you. “Are you sure? I don’t mind at all.”

You nodded all too eagerly. “Yes, of course. Plus, it gets pretty cold when the fire dies out, and I wouldn’t mind sharing some heat…”

He was visibly affected by that, his spine straightening. Once more he swallowed hard, mouth opening and closing as he tried to find the right words.

“Y-yes, you’re right. I-I wouldn’t want you to freeze,” he said, nodding.

He carried his stuff over to the bed, sitting on the mattress hesitantly. You slipped inside the covers, lying on your back. Your eyes were beguiling as he glanced back at you, desire glittering in them. He slipped in beside you slowly, painstakingly making sure there was a little space between you. 

He wasn’t entirely sure what to do, many different instincts warring within him. He didn’t want to seem like he was pressuring you to do more. Kissing was all you had done earlier, despite the fact that your hands had wandered some over each other’s clothed bodies.  

In the end, he shut the lights off, leaving the room only faintly illuminated by the fire in the hearth. You pressed closer to him and he wrapped an arm around you as you rested your head on his chest. Your warmth against him was intoxication, and he had the urge to curl his body around yours.

“Goodnight,” he said softly.

“Goodnight,” you replied, wrapping an arm around his midsection. 

But in the still, quiet darkness, neither of you went to sleep. You lied there, expectant, hyper aware of his nearness and his smell and the comforting heat emanating from him. He was in the same position, tormented by it. Your fingers involuntarily traced lazy circles on his chest, and in response, one of his hands traced up and down your spine.

You let out a pleased hum, thoroughly enjoying his touch. His body shifted, and when you couldn’t take it anymore, you lifted your head so you could look at each other. And then you kissed him, slowly once again to start. 

But soon enough, the kiss grew needier, more ferocious. Teeth and tongues and lips clashing together, intent on devouring. With a shaky hand, you began to undo the buttons of the flannel shirt he had given you, and soon his hands touched skin instead of fabric. He groaned into your mouth then, already far too gone. 

“Can I?” he husked, wanting to see more of you.

You nodded and he pushed it off of you, an agonized look on his face as he took in your form next to him. His hands didn’t know where to go next, but his eyes lingered on your heaving chest – or, more specifically, the swell of your breasts. Gently, you took his wrist and guided them there. 

“God, you’re beautiful,” he murmured, kissing you once more. 

You could feel something insistently pressing against your hip, and you realized he was hard. A whimper escaped your throat and you arched against him as his hands continued their exploration. One of them ghosted past your ribcage and lingered in your abdomen, the tips of his fingers maddeningly close to the hem of your underwear. 

“Duncan…” you sighed as he pulled away to kiss your jaw and down the column of your throat. 

“Do you want me to take care of you?” he asked against your skin, making you shudder.

“Yes,” you pleaded. “Yes, but I want to touch you, too.”

“Touch me wherever you like.”

His hand continued its slow trail south, and you lifted your hips to let him take your panties off. Your legs spread for him eagerly, and you brought your hand down to palm his erection over his briefs. He sucked in a breath through his teeth, hips bucking against your touch. 

He let out a tortured sound as his fingers finally found purchase, finding you soaked already. His fingers slid through your folds with ease, but his touch was gentle and exploratory. You gasped, mewling desperately. You continued to touch him in turn, both excited and intimidated by the size and girth of him. You slipped your hand beneath the hem, wanting to touch the velvety skin of it.

“Take these off,” you murmured, tugging at the hem.

He pulled them off his hips and kicked them the rest of the way off. Your fingers curled around the shaft, pumping slowly. His lips found yours again sloppily, a moan low in his throat. His fingers circled your clit, making you jerk against him. Once he found a rhythm that you seemed to really like, he held you to him as you bucked and writhed, nearing your orgasm.

“Don’t stop,” you choked out, muscles taut as a bowstring.

And in a matter of seconds, you shattered under his expert ministrations. A flint sparked low in your belly, spreading outward in waves of pleasure. You clung to him with a cry, lest you became unmoored.  

“Just like that,” he encouraged, kissing the corner of your lips. “Let go for me.”

His movements did not stop until you gripped his wrist from overstimulation. Your heart nearly leapt out of your chest in the aftermath. You gave him a piteous, agonized look, begging him for more.

“I need you inside me,” you whimpered. “I-I can’t take it anymore. I need you close.”

He didn’t need any more convincing, adjusting your bodies and sliding over you. Your knees drew up beside his hips and he spat down on his cock, spreading it by pumping it in his fist. The head of it teased through your folds, coating itself in your arousal, and then he was slowly pushing inside of you.

You reached up and clung to the corner of the pillow under your head with one hand, mouth slack with all the sensations the stretch brought. Your name slipped past his lips deliriously as he fucked into you shallowly, letting you get used to him. More of his weight leaned on you, and you trembled under him like a doe pinned by the jaws of a mountain lion.

“F-fuck… You’re b-big,” you panted. “Feels s-so fucking good.”

He moaned near your ear, the cant of his hips becoming longer, his length slowly drawing back before sliding back into the hilt. Your wanton moans ascending in a rhythmic spiral were like music to his ears. He was hypnotized by the way your breasts bounced with each thrust, and the way you were clenching around him so sweetly, sucking him back in… It was all rapidly leading him to the edge. 

“You feel like heaven,” he husked, his voice soft and dreamlike. 

You lost yourselves in each other’s bodies, making it last as long as possible. He reached down between you and slicked his thumb over your clit in time with his thrusts. Pleasure mounted once more, to the point where you were practically yowling like a wildcat. You couldn’t even form a sentence, your mind clouded over in a haze of ecstasy.

Your knees pressed against his sides as you came even harder than before. He came soon after with a rough groan, leaning his forehead against yours. He remained fully sheathed inside of you, not wanting to separate for even a moment, despite your sweat slicked skins sticking together. 

You let out a winded chuckle, awash in endorphins, and he smiled beatifically. He tucked your hair away from your face and took a long look at you, as if committing you to memory. He had never seen anyone so beautiful before, and not to mention sweet as honey. Maybe it had been fate that you ended up there, fitting so perfectly in his arms. 

“Would you… Maybe consider staying a little longer?” He murmured, touching the tip of his nose against yours.

You nodded, your smile taking on a playful edge. “I think that can be arranged… As long as you’ll have me.”

At that moment, if it were up to him, then he would have you stay for good.  But for now, he was content with taking it one day at a time. 

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

[jacks-little-jacky]

How do you think the other captains would react if Jack a soft cute so but in the battle field she’s just as violent as him

The other Captains | Jack the Ripper x Reader Headcanons

This is the second time I've written this request and I swear to god if Tumblr crashes again and deletes everything I will start pre-writing everything on docs. Also, this isn't my usual request of writing for Jack but rather the other Captain's opinions on something that has to do with Jack, so I hope I somewhat nailed them.

Yami Sukehiro

Honestly he's so confused about how Jack got a gf

She's cute??? Huh???

Since I see them as the best buddies, he's glad that Jack got himself a pretty and sweet gf but he fears how long he's able to keep her because the man is batshit crazy

so he's a bit surprised but relieved when he sees you go crazy too

he was a lil afraid Jack would become too much or maybe try to dull himself down as he only saw your cute side, so seeing how you're able to match him is good in his eyes

still makes jokes about Jack being too dumb to keep a relationship but he secretly ships it fr

William Vangeance

he likes you! you're sweet and nice!

maybe a little weird next to Jack because you seem his polar opposite

doesn't think too much about it, he's glad you make Jack happy

like Yami he spends a little moment to wonder if maybe he'd get too much for you

also relieved but not as much when he sees your other side

also... a little concerned.... especially if you're not a magic knight.

Rill Boismortier

oh! Captain Jack has a girlfriend! He has a heart! A soft side!

and you're so sweet too???

he def. would try to get along with you, partially because he really thinks you're sweet and he's a very friendly guy

also because he hopes it puts him in good books with Jack because he's lowkey scared

His reaction when you reveal your crazy side is like: "... Oh no... they're both insane..."

He likes your passion though! And how it matches with Jack. He sees a certain beauty in how your differences become irrelevant in a dire/battle situation and you both "dance" on the field

Mereleona Vermillion

she doesn't care all that much tbh

she thinks you're sweet but doesn't really waste another thought on it

only get's interesting when she sees how intense you can get

I guess she'd like Jacks willingness to fight so to see that you're kinda double trouble would be relationship goals for her

doesn't really spend much time thinking about it tho

Charlotte Roselei

How

No, just how? Jack? Pulled a girl? A sweet one like you?

She's baffled

You're so sweet? And nice? And that all for someone like Jack?

Charlotte doesn't like most men in general and while I am a firm believer of Jack x Charlotte in a platonic friendship way... She still would be confused how someone likes him ROMANTICALLY

a little happy for Jack tho, she knows he's not that bad (and she likes roudy guys Yami too)

likes you a lot more when she sees you can dish out some too, maybe would even suggest for you to join her squad

a little worried about Jack and you riling each other up though

Dorothy Unsworth

she likes you, you're sweet and she ships the difference in everyday attitude

Now it depends, if you're being unnecessarily cruel, she'd frown at it but she understands well that it's fun to let loose and play with your magic (which can be very destructive at times)

so yeah Dorothy would like the energy but if you're like crazy violent in a sense of hurting more than you'd have to for no real reason she'd be put off a little

she'd pull you into her glamour world sometimes to show you versions of Jack who totally swoons over you because that how it looks like to her LMAO

Kaiser Granvorka

he's also a little concerned about you at first

sure Jack has to be somewhat sane and respectable to be a Captain but I don't think Kaiser thinks too highly of him

he likes you tho, hopes that maybe you'll rub off on Jack a little

when he sees the way you behave in battle he's more concerned

maybe... he doesn't want you to rub off on Jack. He is crazy enough

After all, this man is married as far as I know and I belive he's still as happy as he can be for you two

Nozel Silva

he's... confused.

Now if you're a noble or a royal his mind is genuinely blown and he thinks Jack did some dirty trick to get you with him

if you're a peasant he doesn't care. at all. maybe raises an eyebrow but doesn't care too much.

if you're a noble/royal he's a bit "concerned" about your violent side but of course, you'd be powerful. it does shift his view on the relationship in a more positive light to see that you don't need to use Jack as a bodyguard/are not dependent on him

if you're a peasant his only thought is "Great, now there's two of them..." - he doesn't like your boyfriend and your chances for him to like you are very, very thin

he might like you more than Jack though because you at least have a sweet and soft side that is socially acceptable

Fuegoleon Vermillion

he's pretty much a middle ground of William and Nozel here

he thinks his part but you won't catch onto that

very glad you're a well behaved and mannered woman and you seem to manage Jack's personality well

he can see the appeal for Jack when you match him, you have no reason to be scared if you're the same and you certainly understand his odd... hobbies like this

but also a little concerned that there are now two of that kind together

Julius Novachrono

Man is in everybodies business

he doesn't say or think much of it tbh, he has seen a fair amount of people and how layered they can be

he likes that you're sweet and soft because it definitely could be handy for Jack (he doesn't cause trouble that much but damn him and Yami at the same spot is always a ticking time bomb and oh does your presence keep Jack focused on something else than Yami)

the violent part is only really interesting depending on your magic, if somehow you and Jack worked on a spell or something that boosts both of you when near each other he'd be intrigued

just hope none of you gets hurt (or does something illegal)

[quandledlngle69]

Black!Butler x Blue!Lock

☆ Content: How Blue!Lock boys would be as demon butlers and lords, + demon hound Shidou. 

☆ Characters: Micheal Kaiser, Nagi Seishiro, Itoshi Rin, Shidou Ryusei, Reo Mikage, Oliver Aiku, Itoshi Sae, Isagi Yoichi, Meguru Bachira, Barou Shouei, Hiori Yo, Rensuke Kunigami + Wild!card kunigami, Karasu Tabio, Hyoma Chigiri, Alexis Ness. 

☆ Genre/Themes/Warnings: Mention of disabled reader and Chigiri in his part, demons, Victorian England, anime, blue lock x black butler, lords and nobles. Angst + slightly suggestive + manipulation + slight mentions of abuse.

☆ Pairing: Demon Butler!Character x Lord!Reader

Demon Butler!Reader x Lord!Character + Demon Hound!Shidou x Lord!Reader. 

☆ W.C. 3.1k

Micheal Kaiser could be both, considering his cocky and arrogant behaviour, he would be the perfect demon butler who simply has everything under control. And even though you both share a contract which means he is your servant until the end of your days, it doesn't mean he isnt the one pulling the strings. Although your contract states he has to help you achieve your goal, it doesn't mean he won't manipulate and gaslight you to do it his way. He is a centuries old demon after all, and you trust him fully, as he has never let you down, has he? Yet in the same breath, if you were his demon butler, you would have a headache for how many times you would be rolling your eyes. He truly fits the role of someone who wants and craves to be worshiped and have someone at his beck and call. He is hotheaded and cold, an arrogant, spoiled brat. Everything he does is with a purpose and it's fortunate you can keep up because–well, let's just say he has no use for useless pawns.

Nagi Seishiro would be a Lord. There's no question about it, he would be way too lazy to take care of himself, let alone serving someone left right and centre for the rest of their lives.  He would be used to the pampering, especially since he got that way from Reo, so it wouldn't be surprising he would have a butler do everything for him. The only reason you made a contract with him was due to his soul being full of the sin of the sloth, other than that, his soul would be worthless to you. He would be notoriously known as one of those noblemen you hear but you never see. He simply doesn't leave his estate unless he absolutely needs to. Any attempt to have him out of the doors of his manor for any mandatory events would be through bribery. Days are long and boring, your schedule never being fully filled, and you wonder if you should just kill him to end the torture to yourself.

Itoshi Rin would be a Lord. His aura of disdain and driven need and desperation to make his brother acknowledge him or become superior would have any demon following his scent. You were just quicker. It would be a concrete yet impulsive decision on his part. He would only see his butler as a pawn, yet in reality it's him that's the pawn in your game. It's hard to even get a sentence out of him, you had gotten used to the blunt and sour one–word replies. He is simply too blinded by his goal to see the consequences at the end of the game. Yet it almost makes your duties easier, knowing he’ll sacrifice anything without a fuss. He spends most of his days in his office, wanting to not be disturbed. He looks at you with hatred, as most humans would do with demons, yet at the end of the day, he’ll remember the one that came to him in his darkest hour, and he's afraid he’ll realise in due time it was a mistake.

Shidou Ryusei would be a Demon Hound. For some reason, he is one of the only demon hounds that can talk and is extremely intelligent. But do not be mistaken, he is not calm or collected at all. He thrives in complete chaos and simply doesn't care for social etiquette of the 1880’s or your reputation of being a higher class. He is simply a rabid dog you barely keep on a leash until you release him to create complete destruction. That's the whole reason he was able to sniff you out in the first place, because your soul had a malicious ache for chaos, destruction and violence. He had first come to you in the form of a scruffy doberman, watching the satisfaction on your face from burning down your orphanage. When you had managed to inherit back your dead parents estate, you had allowed him to follow you. When you found out what he truly was, you formed a contract for him to protect you. He is more of a guard dog than anything. It's more of you trying to keep him in check then the other way round, but he will obey you, as long as he gets to devour your soul. 

Reo Mikage could be both. He would be a perfect butler beside Barou. In his old life, he knew the importance of keeping up a reputation as a noble and how social etiquette works. Everything he does is with a precise eye and is perfect like a cut diamond. He leaves no room for error in his duties and would put any other demon butlers to shame. The reason he was so drawn to your soul was because you longed to be acknowledged by someone who left you in the past to better themselves. Whether it was a love, a friendship, or a family matter, your burning passion was what made Reo sign a contract with you. If Reo was the Lord, however, it would be almost the same story. His soul would burn with an ache not to be left behind, to show a person he truly cared about that he was worthy of being acknowledged, that was Nagi. Since Nagi had a contract, he didn't need Reo anymore. Which clearly shattered him, as he has a need to be depended on. You would be used to show Nagi that Reo is worthy of being acknowledged, and once that goal is fulfilled, his soul is all yours. 

Oliver Aiku would be a butler. In his past life, he gave up on making himself bloom and instead, turned to making those who may need him bloom instead, in his own twisted way. Your soul attracted him with your strong goals. No matter what they were, it was passionate enough to have him at your beck and call after signing a contract. You were almost surprised he wasn’t a succubus–though, with the way he shamelessly flirts with all types of women at balls and gatherings. You can count on your fingers and toes how many times you've had to pull him away by the ear to avoid your butler being whisked away for a night of fun. And don't think you're an exception–he’s handsy. In the aspects of his duties, he’ll let you take the lead most of the time, guiding you metaphorically with a firm hand on your lower back. He is the eyes that pick up the subtle obstacles or margins of error and quickly get rid of them, no matter what it takes or who's in his way. He is more casual, and not uptight like most Butlers are, but that doesn't mean he’ll let you off easy. He still needs that passion in your soul to desire devouring it, after all.

Itoshi Sae is both. Yet what is different from him, is that no matter what position he is in, you are always the pawn. And he doesn't hide it either, and there is nothing you can do. As a butler, there is a cold and unpleasant aura that always follows him. You will always be unsettled in his presence. Everything he does is with purpose, yet it's not because he cares, but is only doing it out of direct orders from you or is indirectly linked to the contract. Those who are looking to backstab or exploit you in any way will think twice when Sae is in your presence. He became aware of your soul as you drastically changed your dreams due to something soul shattering you couldn't come back from. It was almost like a reflection of himself, which peaked his interest. 

Yet if he was the Lord, he would use everything in his power to fulfil his goal, no matter what pawns he ends up losing. Sometimes even his plans are unpredictable to you, which makes this game even more entertaining. In aspects other than his goal, you spend a lot of time covering for his rude lack of manners and turning down the numerous letters asking for your Lord's hand in marriage.  He understands that you will stay by his side until the very end. And until then, the piercing gaze of his teal eyes will always make your eyes squint with desire to devour his soul. 

Isagi Yoichi would be a Lord. The growing obsessions of greed for more in his heart had your ears pricking up like a hound dog. His decision would be a long, dragged out process with hesitation like no other. You recognize that he is a clever human, and he won’t be swayed by tricks of any kind. At some point, you believed that you would never gain a contract with Isagi, but with a little more time and persuasive words, you were able to get him to agree to your terms. You are polite and sweet in front of others, making them believe there is nothing going on. You carried out his dirty work, helping Isagi do whatever it takes to achieve his goal, no matter who gets hurt in the process. Isagi’s soul is one in its purest form, something that abnormally hasn't been tainted by the darkness even with his Gluttony. Even though Isagi knows you're a demon, you go to great lengths to keep the most violence and bloodshed away from his eyes. The purer the soul, the sweeter it tastes. 

Meguru Bachira would be a Lord. You would be attracted by the loneliness in his soul for a true relationship, something he had felt heavily throughout his life. Something you can give him. It really wasn't that difficult to get him to sign the contract; humans are so fragile when they don't have each other, and clearly he felt it deeper than ever that day. Of course, you would sugarcoat the parts of devouring his soul but–doesn't he want a friend? You eliminate any threats, to his life or to the contract formed. Most days are spent playing games for children or chasing after Meguru playing tag. However you run into the real problems when the marriage proposals come in, and most are denied or taken back after meeting with him, which detriments his spirit even more. Even if everyone else in his life ends up leaving him, or turning on him for a reason out of his control, you will always be there. Even if you are the cause. How else are you supposed to keep the fire of loneliness in his soul sparked?

Barou Shouei would be a butler. And he scares you, if you were being honest. Although he cleans like the contract between you will cease to exist if he doesn't, he has a permanent scowl etched into his features. Even though he is a demon, he has a soft spot for animals and children. NO he will not let you put makeup on him (he will) and he will not hold your shopping bags for you (he most definitely will.)  Most people mistake him as your personal bodyguard with how big his frame is. And even more surprised at his domestic habits. And don’t bother trying to find a male suitor anytime soon, Barou will frighten them away, intentionally or not. He found your soul from the burning envy in your heart and the desire to be better and devour others, which in turn makes him want to devour your soul. He reminds you constantly that he is not your friend, while also simultaneously ironing fifty of your shirts over and over again to make sure there are zero creases. An amused smile forms on your face when he does say those words.

Yo Hiori would be a Lord. The pressure from his parents to marry the estranged girl from the other county would cause him to snap. He felt suffocated, almost drowning with this need of perfection and following a path that naturally didn't feel his own. On a cold night of despair, you came to his huddled form in the corner of his room, and whispered the sweetest promises of release and freedom. Everyone expected him to keep up the family line, but what happens when his parents die in a strange fire and he disappears, only to emerge a few months later with a personal butler. You still notice the uneasiness he feels that lingers when he’s around you, the air will always be full of unknown intentions.Occasionally, asks you about heaven and hell, demons and angels, and you tell him as much as you know, supplying his curiosity. You promise to fulfil his wish of freedom in this life, yet his soul will forever be bound to you. 

Rensuke Kunigami would be a Lord. Having his dreams crushed, simply realising he is not good enough to keep up with the world he wants to join, he crumples. Yet this is where you come in; you show him another chance, show him the light in which he can strive down, while you eat up the darkness that threatens to consume his light. You simply do his burdensome work as you live in the shadows. His family or friends don't see him much due to his obsession with chasing his dreams–and what kind of butler would you be if you couldn’t make excuses for something as simple as that? He trusts you to a certain extent, a deep part of him believes there is a catch–but there is none. That is, if you don't consider devouring his soul, the catch. 

Now, Wildcard Kunigami would be a butler. He notices your soul crumpled with the loss of your dreams, yet for you, this fate only fuels the burning desire to grab it back, no matter what it takes. He is blunt and open with you, he will work hard to make your dreams come true, in place for your soul. He will carry out whatever nasty work you want him to do with a quiet nod of his head. He is more in the headspace of a knight, working to do whatever it takes to protect you and your dreams. He doesn’t do pleasantries or politeness, only what he knows, which is loyalty and fairness. 

Karasu Tabito would be a butler. Yet, if you told anyone in the first place why you chose a contract with him, they would laugh. Even Tabito was amused by your reasons to form a contract. When people first see you both together, they assume he is your suitor by his handsome face and charming manner, which to your dislike, he entertains. You had to teach him (yes teach him, your butler) to try and speak with a posh accent, so he doesnt get mistaken for a commoner (it doesn't work, of course.) He can see himself in you with your cocky attitude and arrogant behavior, yet it hides the deep vulnerabilities and insecurities you have with yourself. He sees a reflection of himself in you when he was a mortal himself. You hastily shook his hand to form the contract when your soul had called to him. He had never met a mortal so amusing. It was clear you don't truly understand the depths of your agreement yet Tabito was satisfied with the arrangement. He protects your little secrets and fragile heart, and you give him your soul at the end of your life. 

Hyoma Chigiri would be both. If Chigiri was your Lord, be prepared for the restless nights, and frustration that emits off him. His permanently torn ACL triggered despair in his heart, making his soul deliciously wanted. There will be times of purposely spilled cups, plates, bowls, trashed rooms, and thrown insults. Yet if you couldn't handle all of those things, what kind of a butler would you be? At the estate, Chigiri would mostly be using a wheelchair, he mostly refuses to use anything but a cane when out interacting with society, as he doesn't want to be pitied on or seem as less. On his good days, he would be silent and his mind wandering. When he wants to be cheeky, or thinks you're being too slow with your duties, he’ll whack your ankle with his cane, an amused smile crossing his face when you lecture him about minding his manners.

If Chigiri was your butler, however, it would be for the same reasons. You were born with a leg deformity. A congenital limb defect that caused a limp which required a walking stick to help you keep stable. Ever since you were younger you had realised you were different from other kids. You couldn't run, do sports, or even perform basic tasks by yourself. Even finding a husband was impossible, even with your status. You were slowly isolated from others, including your family who gave you secret looks of disgust. It infuriated you, the burning hatred in your soul of being treated differently beckoned him to help you for a price. Chigiri will be your legs, your eyes, your brain and your body. He will do the physical things you can’t do, the physical manifestations of the burning pain you want to cause with the hands you can't do. You may not have the perfect body, but your soul is exquisite to him. 

Alexis Ness would be a butler. At the same time, he would be the most pathetic demon butler ever. A demon like him would thrive off being under someone's thumb then being the one in power. A soul so full of ego that it would almost be considered a god complex would have Ness’s tail wagging like a pitiful dog. If he wasn't a demon, he would have many scars on him inflicted by the abuse you cause. He seems to be bewitched by the fact you are far from a good person at all, and teething the edge of being an epitome of a spoiled brat. If you ever want someone to take out your frustration on, his uncanny smile will be compliant. You have only a handful of servants, as they either left due to your tyranny or because of the fact you stuck your nose up at them constantly. The rest were too afraid to leave or naturally had nowhere else to go. Ness would allow you to use him like a dirty cloth, but the minute someone else even tries to challenge or insult you, Ness reminds you why he really is a demon.

☆ Credits for dividers: @fukuonagirl @anitalenia @ioveartfilm

Quandaledlngle69 © 2024

[trenchcoathunnybee08]

I need more Duncan Villa fics 😭that man is ironically my comfort character and I’m 90% sure the tag is exclusively supposed by 2 people. Please I beg you give my man some love. He’s a fluffy old man with a tendency towards violence. Is it really so much to ask to gets some good fics out of it?

If at all possible one that isn’t labeled as an age gap relationship because those just sort of throw me off but i really don’t care anymore. Just about everything else is on the table for all I care.

That’s all. Thanks for coming to my rant 🤷🏻‍♀️

[glamourscat]

So, I have been debating whether to make this or not. I started this blog as a way to simply exercise my writing and to meet more people who loved the same characters I do.

I have been struggling for a while, especially w having to move for university now, some of my friends and some of you on here have gently nudged me to the idea of opening a patreon account.

I would like to know what you all think about it tho. Opening a patreon doesn’t mean I stop writing on here. My goal still stands. Opening a patron account means giving the opportunity for you to request more detailed, longer fics. Both character x character, or reader x character. To have in detailed matchups with hcs, vibes and a fic attached to it. Or even fanfics for your ocs (after receiving some background info about them!)

Blame my keyboard for the wrong spelling lmao

[angelfishe]

#𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐈 𝐊𝐍𝐎𝐖 𝐇𝐄 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐘𝐒 𝐒𝐎𝐂𝐂𝐄𝐑

<< blue lock men x reader >>

Character : isagi yoichi, rin itoshi, sae itoshi, Oliver aiku and Michael kaiser

You were never a big fan of sports but your boyfriend does play soccer, when your friends about your boyfriend hobbies you said he plays soccer, you never realized how famous he was at the sport when he picks you up from university / school

#ISAGI YOICHI

~ when he told you he pick you up from your class in university / school, you didn't expect it will lead half of the population of the school would circle around him. When you heard someone famous show up to your school you didn't expect to be your boyfriend.

~ he finally spotted you far away from the crowd and immediately walked towards you ignoring the people that were asking for his autographs, he grabbed your hand and asked you if you were ready to go home and both of you walked out of the halls of students with their jaws down on the floor. When you reach home many students start to text you about your relationship with him as well as your friends.

#RIN ITOSHI

~ you were finishing up on a group project with your classmates when rin text you he was In front of the gates to pick you up, on cue you hear many students yelling about a famous soccer player waiting on the gates when you were packing up on your things.

~ when you arrive In front of the gate there's already a crowd whispering about the famous player, you tap at one of your classmates and they say "it's the famous soccer player itoshi rin" and on cue your boyfriend spotted you and called you towards to come here and that walk towards him you could feel many eyes staring at you as you approach your boyfriend, he ask as if you were okay and you said you were fine.

#SAE ITOSHI

~ you were in a middle lecture from your professor, originally you were supposed to leave 15 minutes ago but your professor assists to stay to teach you more about the topic, you already told your boyfriend about this and you told him it's fine for him to leave for him not to be late for practice. But he assists and he'll wait for you.

~ as well in your school group chat you noticed many students talking about someone famous is walking in the hallways, on cue someone open the door towards the class room it's your boyfriend and he's here to pick you up, your professor stunt to you to pick up your stuff and the walk towards him you feel eyes watching at you as well in the hallway, he was holding your waist and wasting no attention towards the audience watching you guys Evey step only thing that matters is you with him.

#OLIVER AIKU

~ apparently someone really famous is in school right now and every single one of your friends was gushing over this someone talking about how handsome he is, you thought it was a model because since they won't stop stalking about how handsome he is, so you were there enjoying your lunch with your friends outside enjoying the nice day until your friends stop talking suddenly and silhouette appear behind you and someones hands hugs around your waist as well the so familiar black hair laying on your shoulder and those heterochromia eyes looking at you. It's your boyfriend Oliver aiku

~ he takes a seat next to your hands on your waist, he was supposed to pick you up after lunch but he was inpatient and miss you so much, he greets your friends that were stunt suddenly they realest a scream and send a hundreds question about your relationship and saying how dare you hide this secret. Meanwhile Oliver is laughing about your situation.

#MICHAEL KAISER

~ your school was hosting a festival and you thought it was a good idea to invite your boyfriend and his best friend towards it because he never was in school as well giving him a tour of your campus, you never expected him to arrive inside of a limo and this managed to catch the attention of many bystanders.

~ the entire duration of the tour was people keep staring at you both, and we'll ness he explores the school grounds giving you privacy. It feels awkward since you were paying attention to the crowd instead of the tour and he finds it annoying so he grabs your waist and whispers something in front of the crowd causing many people screaming. After the tour was done Michael decided to go and see more of the school, you were soon bombarded with many questions about your relationship by your friends, classmates and even your professors.

[ceruark]

what the cat dragged in

[yan! michael kaiser x fem! reader, childhood friends au.] synopsis: your grandfather once cautioned you against feeding strays. it’s a lesson you wouldn’t fully learn until many years later. words: 4.6k cw: yandere themes - obsession, possessiveness, implied stalking, slight dubcon (no nsfw). a/n: [head in hands] this was supposed to be a drabble

“You be careful with that, now.”

At the sound of your grandfather’s voice, you glance over your shoulder, fixing your attention on the man standing in the doorway, propped up against his cane. Your knees and face are smeared with mud, as any seven year-old’s would be. 

You turn back around, cooing gently at the scraggly kitten that eats the canned tuna out of the palm of your hand. You lift your free hand to scratch at its head, smiling as it nuzzles into your hand before going back to the food.

“Why?” You ask innocently. “It’s so cute.”

“It’s a stray,” your grandfather says, voice dripping with disgust on the last word. “If you feed it, it’ll keep coming back.”

You frown. Would such a thing be so bad? If the poor little guy was hungry, you would happily indulge it; after all, withholding such a vital thing to its survival would be cruel.

“But it’s hungry,” you whine. The kitten polishes off the rest of the tuna before looking up at you and meowing loudly, bumping its head against your palm. Your heart soars at the endearing action.

“I’m serious,” your grandfather snaps at you in the tone that tells you you’ll be in trouble if you don’t listen. You give the kitten one last pet before reluctantly retracting your hand. You bite down on your warbling lip and blink away tears when it meows at your sudden absence in confusion and protest.

You walk over to your grandfather, and he takes your small wrist into his hand. He takes in your crestfallen expression and sighs, shaking his head.

“It’s for the best,” he says softly. “You don’t want strays getting attached to you.”

You look up at him with big, watery eyes. “Why not?”

“Because no matter how much you feed them, they’ll always be hungry, and then they’ll never leave you alone.”

Despite your grandfather’s warning, you continue to feed the kitten.

You’re careful to do it somewhere he won’t catch you, though. It’s summer, so you’ve been spending a lot of your time in the park that’s only around the block from your house. Turns out the kitten has been spending lots of time sunbathing there, too, so you make sure to start sneaking out some canned tuna with your packed lunch.

You walk past the swingset and toward the large, twisting slide that you’ve gotten used to finding the kitten under this time of day. Your small purple lunch bag bounces against your leg as you skip happily, swinging your arms animatedly. The tune you’re humming gets stuck in your throat and dies as you duck under the play structure and find a small figure already huddled beneath the slide.

A boy in a black hoodie two sizes too big for his frail body sits criss-cross on the floor. Bruised hands gently pet the kitten, which is curled up in his lap and purring softly. He can’t be that much younger than you— probably only by a year— but he seems far smaller than the kids in the grade below you at school, concerningly so.

His head snaps up as your feet come into his line of his vision, wide, impossibly blue eyes locking onto yours. He flinches so hard that the kitten yowls and jumps out of his lap, startled. He curls in on himself defensively and his breathing becomes labored, yet his wide eyes never leave you, tracking your every movement.

You blink in confusion at his reaction. “Um,” you start to say, but you’re cut off by a loud meow cutting through the air.

You turn to the kitten, which has now settled at your side and is pawing at your lunch bag. You giggle— of course, it’s already come to know where its next meal is coming from. You pick up the bag and unzip it, producing the canned tuna from inside it. You grunt as you tug at the tab a few times, but finally it gives way and comes off cleanly. You place it down, and the kitten eagerly prances up to it and starts eating out of it.

After a long moment of watching it eat, your eyes drift back to the boy across from you. His eyes are locked onto the kitten with such focus that it’s concerning.

Then, you realize he’s not looking at the kitten— he’s looking at the tuna sitting on the floor.

You reach back into your bag and take out a sandwich secured tightly in saran wrap. You unwrap it then split it in half, extending your arm out to offer it to the boy.

His eyes dart down to the sandwich and back to you, but he doesn’t make any move to take it.

“Here,” you say, waving your arm up and down in emphasis. “You can have some, if you want. Mom always packs too much for me, so I’m okay sharing with you!”

He glances back down at the sandwich and hesitates for just a moment more before his hand shoots out, snatching it out of your own and quickly bringing it to his mouth. You avert your eyes back to the kitten as he eats it, slowly working through your own half of your lunch.

When you’re done, you peek into the bag to see what else your mom packed for you. There’s a small bag of chips, an orange, and a banana. Maybe it’s a little selfish to keep the chips for yourself, but the boy seems to be just as eager when you set the fruits in front of him, so it’s probably fine.

He finishes eating before you do, and slowly, he inches closer toward you and the cat. He begins petting it again, stealing glances at you when he thinks you’re not looking. 

Finished with your snack, you crumple the bag up and throw it into your lunch bag before zipping it back up. You brush your hand off on your pants, leaving a smatter of chip dust behind that your mom will probably chide you for later. 

You look up at the boy, who is already staring at you. He flushes red and is about to look away when you hold your hand to him and introduce yourself.

You tilt your head toward him with a warm smile. “What’s your name?”

Michael waits for you under the slide the next day, and the next, and the one after that.

Days bleed into weeks, weeks into months, and months into years. You become permanent fixtures in each other’s lives. You bring snacks and books, bandages and a gentle touch and an unspoken oath to never ask, never pry. He brings nothing but himself, but for you, that is enough.

Your mother never asks why you pack extra food, or where it’s ending up. She likely just chalks it up to you being a growing girl, and for that, you are grateful.

There are some days, though, where you’re being looked after by your father, who chides you for taking more than you need and makes you put the extras back in the pantry. On those days, you apologize to Michael for the smaller portions you both have, but he simply brushes it off. He says he couldn’t care less if you show up with no food at all, so long as you show up.

At some point, it stops being about the food, you just fail to realize it. Michael never breaks his habit of trailing behind you like your own shadow, and he’s not exactly a sociable person (in fact, his glare alone scares off any other kids your age who try to approach you two), so you figure there’s still something he wants from you. And because of your upbringing, hand-holding and leaning against each other and hugging is something so normal to you that you cannot even begin to suspect that there is something much different he’s actually after.

You’re fourteen and he’s thirteen the first time he kisses you.

It’s a sunny day, but not too hot; there’s a nice breeze in the air that keeps you cool as you sit in the grass, idly popping grapes into your mouth as you watch Michael kick a ball into a wall over and over again, as is customary for you two these days. As always, he eventually wears himself out and finds his way over to you, collapsing beside you and leaning his full body weight against your side as you complain and futilely try to push him off.

“Micha, get off,” you whine, shoving at his shoulder. He doesn’t budge, and instead sighs in irritation and wraps his arms around yours to stop your attempts. “You’re heavy!”

“Your fault for feeding me so much,” he mumbles into your shoulder, prompting you to roll your eyes. “Seems like oversight on your part.”

“Yeah, well, I wouldn’t have if I knew you’d grow up to be this annoying.” Your words lack heat, of course— you don’t really mean it, and even if it wasn’t evident by your tone, it’s evident in the way you relax into his embrace. “Seriously, though. You’re all sweaty. It’s gross.”

Michael gives one last aggrieved sigh before releasing you. He reaches for the water bottle set beside you and drinks from it, and you go back to your grapes.

A comfortable silence settles between you two as you observe the other people in the park. It’s summer, so it’s busier than usual, which means Michael will probably leave sooner rather than later.

You turn to look at him, but as always, he’s already looking down at you. 

You tilt your head to the side. “Do you need something?” You ask playfully.

Michael stares at you a moment longer, the wind rustling his hair into his face. Then, he leans down so quickly that you can’t react before he presses his lips to yours.

It’s soft, gentle. It’s barely there, his desire contained by a hesitation you haven’t seen within him in so long. 

When you don’t respond, he pulls back, his face carefully smoothed over into a blank canvas, but you know him better than that. Fear dances in his eyes, fear that he’s overstepped and swung a sledgehammer straight into your friendship.

You blink rapidly, trying to pull yourself together. “Oh,” you say, smartly, and then feel yourself flush red as you fully process what just happened. 

“Sorry,” he mutters under his breath. It sounds wrong coming from him, and you reach out to grab his arm just as he starts to withdraw into himself.

“Hey, look, it’s fine. I just— you just caught me by surprise. That’s all.”

He looks back at you, and you feel your breath catch in your throat. His blue eyes are shining, but there’s something dark in them that you haven’t seen before, something you can’t quite place.

“It’s fine?” He echoes in question.

You feel your face grow hotter.

“Yeah,” you whisper back, “it’s fine.”

When he leans down this time, you respond in kind.

You’re always the one to break off the kisses shared between you two.

At this point, you’re convinced he’s not human, given the way that lack of air never seems to be a problem for him. If anything, he seems more annoyed by the fact that you’ve stopped kissing him than the fact that he’s nearly panting from how long he’s gone without taking a proper breath. 

He’s insatiable, you quickly find out. Shockingly, for a few weeks following your first kiss, he spends more of his time kissing you under the slide than playing football. When you get tired or want to take a break, he just opts to hold you in a tight embrace until you’re ready to kiss again or have to leave. 

Eventually, his initial enthusiasm dies down, but his way of kissing you never changes. Shallow, rapid kisses swapped between inexperienced middle schoolers, but he never lets up, always eager to meet your lips again and take in your breath in place of oxygen.

You never put a name to whatever’s happening between you two. You’re not friends anymore, that much is clear, but you two don’t have the means of going out on dates, either.

Regardless of what you are, he becomes clingier than ever following the shift in your relationship, and a small part of you can’t help but feel like you’re suffocating.

“Micha.”

He looks up from the ball at his feet, skillfully dribbling it despite the fact that his focus is elsewhere. It’s impressive; hopefully, one day, you’ll be able to see him play professionally.

Your heart sinks to your stomach and sits there heavily. Would that be the next time you see him? On some screen, miles away from him, years from this moment in this time?

You’re moving out of Berlin. Your father’s being suddenly transferred to an office in Cologne, and you have just five days to get all your stuff packed up and ready to go for the train ride on Sunday. You have a shitty starter phone— your parents aren’t keen on you having a smartphone, yet— but Micha has nothing. You suppose you could write to him, but that would put him at risk if his father got to the mail before he did.

When he catches the look on your face, he settles the ball at his feet and locks his full attention on you. “What’s wrong?”

You swallow, averting your gaze to the ground. “I’m moving,” you mumble.

A thick silence settles between you two. The soft breeze is sharp in your ears, like deafening static reverberating through your head.

His voice comes out sharp, digging in a way you’ve never heard it before. “What?”

“I’m moving,” you repeat. “I’m leaving. Dad’s job— we’ve got to go to Cologne.”

He doesn’t respond for so long that you finally force yourself to look up at him. His face has gone completely blank, and there’s only something dark in his eyes, something completely unreadable to you.

His voice is tight when he asks, “When are you coming back?”

“I—” You sigh. “I don’t know. I don’t think I am. I think the transfer’s permanent.”

He looks down, seemingly mulling over your words. When he looks up again, his gaze goes is cold, and he hums, straightening out. “No.”

You blink, confused. “No?”

“You’re not leaving.”

You furrow your brows. “What?”

He looks down at you derisively, seemingly irritated that he has to repeat himself. “I said you’re not leaving.”

“I can’t just not leave,” you spit out. He’s starting to be ridiculous, and his condescension has never been something that bodes well with you, having only been on the receiving end of it so few times. “I’m not gonna have any family here.”

He jostles the ball between his feet as if this is another one your shared mundane conversations. “So we’ll just run away together.”

You narrow your eyes at him in disbelief. “Do you even hear yourself right now?”

He slants a side look at you. “Do I look like I’m joking?”

“Oh, sure,” you say, voice getting higher with each word, “just two teenagers running away and figuring out how to make ends meet. Can you please take this seriously?”

His foot comes down on top of the ball, hard. He flicks a finger between you two. “I am the only one taking this seriously.”

“This,” you echo, incredulous. “A stupid relationship.”

He kicks the ball to the side and turns to face you fully, and that’s how you know you fucked up. Each word bites as he asks, “Is that all this is to you?”

“You know I care about you, Micha,” you say carefully, “but asking me to throw away my family to stay with you is insane.”

Something shutters in his expression, but it’s gone before you can even register it. “I knew it,” he spits, “you’ve never cared about me as much as you’ve led me to believe.”

You grit your teeth. “Are you serious?”

He shrugs. “You obviously don’t value me as much as I value you.”

“Oh my god,” you snap, “you are fourteen. Get the fuck over yourself.”

“You think this is meaningless because we’re young?”

“I think,” you hiss, “that we have our whole lives ahead of us. I wouldn’t ask you to stay by my side if you had bigger and better things ahead of you.”

He continues to stare at you in icy silence. You sigh, frustrated.

“If it’s meant to be, it’ll work itself out,” you say.

Michael tilts his head, as if considering this. His eyes wander your face, committing every bit to memory. Then, he walks over to you, seizing your wrist in his hand. You step back, a bit thrown off, but he lightly tugs on your arm, pulling you back toward him. 

“It will work out,” he says, eyes boring into yours. “I’ll make sure of it.”

He leans down and presses a familiar, gentle kiss to your lips.

“Then you won’t have to leave me ever again.”

This time, when you pull away, he lets you go. Seemingly without a care in the world, he turns around and picks up the ball, heading toward the trail that he takes home.

You return to the park the day before you leave, but you don’t see him. You wait for hours, but he never shows.

The unease twisting in your gut doesn’t unravel until the train speeds away from the station, leaving Berlin behind you.

You’re about to turn eighteen when you see him again.

Not in person, but on a screen like you expected. The name Michael Kaiser sits in a scrolling bar across the bottom of the screen which plays footage of him playing on Bastard München’s youth team, his long golden hair flowing behind him beautifully. The news anchor says something about him being one of the most promising players of the new generation— not that that’s something you need to be told.

Your friend says something from across the table, ripping your attention from the screen. You don’t notice how tense you’ve gotten until you relax again.

Despite the lingering feeling of unease his memory leaves you with, you’re still glad he made it, after all.

“Who’s this?”

You’re back home for the holidays during your second year in university. Your studies have taken you back to Berlin, albeit a part you hadn’t grown up near and is still new and fresh to you. “Home” might not be the right word, though— you’re spending Christmas Eve at your grandmother’s house. She’s been hosting your entire family the past couple years since your grandfather’s passing forced her to relocate to a smaller house, an attempt to fill the empty home with warm presences.

Currently, she’s playing with a small, bedraggled dog that has wandered onto her porch. It’s wheezy and staggers when it walks, indicative of its old age.

“Oh, just a sweet little thing,” your grandmother replies as she pets its back. “You know, your grandfather always hated it when I would feed the strays. I did it a lot back at the old house on the other side of town, but there’s not too many animals on this side, so I don’t really do it anymore.”

You consider the dog. Its fur is matted, but nonetheless, its tail wags so hard from your grandmother’s attention that its whole body shakes with it. It sneezes pathetically.

You shove your hands into your coat pockets. “So this is a new one, then?”

“Well, not quite.” Your grandmother chuckles. “I first met this little guy back at the old house. I’ve been feeding him since he was a puppy! Seems he found his way back home on his own.”

“Huh.” Your eyes snap back to her. “I didn’t think they could actually do that.”

She laughs some more. “The most determined and loved ones can.”

You retreat back into the house. Your younger cousins jump on you immediately, demanding you play whatever nonsensical game they’ve thought up this time. You shed your coat, and with it, your lingering distress at your grandmother’s words.

“Oh my god, do you have a secret admirer?”

Your roommate’s voice pulls you out of your shocked state. The dread freezing your veins gradually thaws out, and you kneel down to pick the bouquet of flowers off the floor in front of the entrance to your shared apartment.

Blue forget-me-nots, with some blue roses interspersed throughout.

It’s October now. Just under a year has passed since Christmas, but your grandmother’s words are fresh in your mind, as if you’d heard them just yesterday.

You fumble around with the bouquet, movements becoming more frantic when you can’t find what you’re looking for. “There’s no card attached to this.”

“Well, duh,” your roommate says. “That would defeat the purpose of a secret admirer.”

Except, it’s not a secret who sent you these. You might have been able to brush it off if it was just the forget-me-nots, but the roses speak for themselves.

You flick your wrist out to the side, shoving the bouquet into your roommate’s chest. She grabs onto them, so you let them go in favor of getting the door unlocked.

“Figure out what to do with them,” you say as you enter the apartment.

She trails in after you, hot on your heels in incredulity. “Wait, you’re seriously not going to keep them?”

“You know I’m not interested in a relationship right now,” you say breezily, feigning a calmness that contradicts your racing heart. “It’s a sweet gesture, but I don’t want them.”

“I mean—” Your roommate stammers a bit before her words peter out. She sighs, then starts rummaging in the cabinet beneath the sink. “Alright, whatever you say.”

She ends up arranging them in a nice glass vase you weren’t aware you two even own and sets them in the center of the dining table. They mock you until they wither and die, and you can finally dispose of them.

By the time February rolls around without any further incidents, your guard has lowered significantly, which is, of course, your first mistake.

You’re lounging on the couch in the common space when there’s light knocking at your apartment door. There’s mostly college students renting in this unit, so it’s not uncommon for someone to stop by and invite you to some party or other, and with Valentine’s around the corner, there’s sure to be plenty.

You set your laptop down on the coffee table and get to your feet, sliding your feet into your slippers and crossing the room to get to the apartment entrance. You reach up and begin to undo the locks without checking the peephole, which is your second mistake.

You pull the door open, and immediately, everything freezes in place.

His eyes are as blue as the day you met him, only his gaze is far sharper than they were even on the day you left. 

The television and billboards really don’t do him justice. He’s fully grown into his figure now, the diet and training regimen of a professional athlete filling him out in ways that the portioned-out food fed to him from your hands could not. His hair is choppy, but a face that gorgeous can make anything work. It’s pulled up into a messy bun made to look regal by the glasses sitting on the bridge of his nose. The blue rose on his neck is stark against his skin, and you eye the thorny vines that trail down and disappear beneath his shirt.

You meet his eyes again, apprehensive. His face is impassive, but the intensity of his gaze betrays him and keeps you pinned in place.

You clutch the doorknob so tightly your knuckles go white.

“Michael,” you say softly, and he frowns slightly at that. “What are you doing here?”

How did you find me? The unasked question hangs in the air between you two, but neither of you reach for it.

“Who’s Michael?” He asks airily. He steps forward, and hooks a finger under your chin before you get the chance to move away from him. “Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten your Micha already.”

You swallow thickly. “I haven’t,” you mumble.

He hums. His thumb brushes against your chin lightly as his gaze trails over your body. When it lands on you again, his eyes swallow you whole. “You look good.”

Heat floods your cheeks in spite of the dread settling in your stomach, and you look to the floor again. “Thanks.”

You attempt to step back, but there’s a hand that finds its way to the small of your back before you can. The hand on your chin tilts your head up, up, until you’re forced to look at him again.

“I spent so long waiting for you, liebling,” he says. “Is this how you greet your boyfriend?”

“Boyfriend?” You sputter. “I don’t—”

His thumb presses firmly against your lips, quieting your protests. “Friends don’t make out, do they?” When you don’t respond, he adds, “We never did break up, you know. I’m glad to see you haven’t cheated on me in my absence.”

You finally reach your breaking point, all the agitation and unease within you spilling over. You shove at him as hard as you can, but if he didn’t budge all those years ago, he certainly wasn’t budging now. You shove at him again, this time trying to use the movement to push yourself away rather than push him, but he swiftly grabs hold of both your wrists and tugs you back toward him. Caught off guard, you careen forward and crash into his chest. His arms snake around your waist, an iron cage holding you firmly against him.

“Micha,” you hiss, “let me go.”

“Now, liebe,” he coos, releasing his hold on you just enough for you to shift and properly look up at him. “You know what that will cost you.”

You glare up at him, but to your chagrin, he seems perfectly content to simply hold you and gaze down at you. As seconds bleed into minutes trapped in his hold, you crack under the pressure. 

You tilt your head up fully, and Michael lowers his head just enough to be within your reach. You close the distance between you two, intending for the kiss to be short, shallow, and sweet, just like your first.

You honestly should know better at this point. One of his hands comes up to cradle the back of your head, and he pulls you back in just as you’re about to get away. 

The next kiss is deep, far more passion behind it than anything you two shared before you left. He bites at your bottom lip, and forces his tongue in when you startle. A whimper leaves your throat as he continues to lick into your mouth. You reach up to try to shove at his chest, but he places his other hand over it, rubbing his thumb against your knuckles in a mockery of a soothing gesture.

You gasp out when he finally breaks for air. Your lips sting from the sudden release of pressure, and a thin trail of saliva lines your bottom lip. You stumble back, but firm arms are there to catch you again.

You look up, and his pupil-blown eyes cause that unease to settle over you once more.

Gently, he brings your hand up to his lips and ghosts your knuckles over them.

There’s a glint in his eye as he asks, “Aren’t you going to invite me inside?”

Never satisfied. Insatiable, and now, somehow finding his way back to you.

You should have listened to your grandfather when you had the chance.