#there was sort of a crawl space under it if you pulled the desk out

[two-calicos-in-a-trenchcoat]

Man I haven't had a bed frame in like 7 years

I feel so up high

BED FRAME ASSEMBLED

[unforgettwble-sumii]

SICKNESS CALLED LOVE ✧ — W . A

(𝐖𝐞𝐝𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐱 𝐅𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 📖)

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬❗: 𝐒𝐰𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠

🤍 𝐭𝐨 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐦𝐚𝐲, 𝐖𝐞𝐝𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐡𝐚𝐬 𝐟𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐧 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐚 𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐩 𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐮𝐧𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬.

—

Wednesday sat at her desk, typing on her beloved typewriter. As she was typing midsentence, a sudden thought crossed her mind. She suddenly stopped, thinking about the events that had come her way not too long ago.

❕Flashback (Wednesday's pov)

As I was sitting under a tree at a nearby lake, a familiar face came my way. "Hey, Wednesday." She greeted me. I looked up and hummed as an acknowledgement.

"May I?" Y/N asked me, pointing at the empty space beside me. "You may." I replied, not looking up from my book. and to the girls satisfaction, she sat down beside me.

"What are you reading?" She asked scooting herself closer. "Ways to torture people who ask too many questions." I quickly reply, head still looking at the book but looking at her reaction through my peripheral vision.

She meekly giggled and said, "You wouldn't do anything to hurt me, right Wednesday?" She asked me. I looked up from the book, her response caught me off guard.

"We'll see." I raised both brows, but deep in my heart, there was a small voice inside me that wanted to say, 'no, never.'

These feelings bring me disgust. It gives me these shivers everytime our hands brush past each other. It makes me want to vomit. It feels like torture. Usually, I would enjoy torture, but I do not enjoy this type of torture.

❕End of flashback (3rd person pov)

She felt butterflies –, spiders crawling in her stomach as she was rethinking about the event. She felt her face heat up. "I must be sick." She said holding up her arm to cup her cheek.

"Impossible." She shook her head. Wednesday, doesn't like what's happening to her. She stood up from her chair and slowly made her way to her bed, thinking that if she was to rest, these feelings would go away.

But these types of feelings don't go away that easily.

She tossed and turned on her bed, trying to find the best position for sleep. And yet, no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't sleep. She couldn't stop thinking of you.

She sighed and buried her head amongst her pillows hoping she'll suffocate to death and won't have to deal with these tedious feelings.

Thing, having enough of Wednesday's antics and loud sighs, decides he should help her sort her feelings out. And maybe try to get her to book him a hand spa at a nearby salon in return.

He jumped on her bed with a little thud, making Wednesday turn to him. "Go away." She says glaring at the appendage. 'Groaning isn't going to help you sort things out, Wednesday.' He signed. Causing the black haired girl to roll her eyes.

"Nor is trying to annoy me." She shot back. Thing, started tapping on the bed, then ran off.

I'm not sure where he was going, not that it mattered.

I stood up from my bed, 'These feelings should not concern me. It's...normal.' I thought, grabbing a book and started reading. maybe reading would help distract me from this... mess.

❕Next day - (3rd person pov)

But it did not. It only helped Wednesday's mind to spiral more and more.

The next day went on as usual; you got up from your bed, had breakfast, and made your way to your classes. Second class of the day and you already felt sleepy.

'This class is boringggg....' you though as you let out a loud sigh. The professor was surely taking his time teaching, even if half of the class wasn't listening.

Wednesday, who sat beside you, shot you a glare; a warning. You playfully rolled your eyes. You moved closer to her, knees almost touching.

You rested your head on her shoulder. Wednesday tensed up at the sudden action, trying to keep still as possible as to not disturb you. You clearly didn't have enough sleep last night, Wednesday thought.

Towards the end of the lecture, Wednesday subconsciously leaned into your touch and as soon as she realized that, she pulled back; waking you up.

You abruptly woke up, surprised by the sudden action. "I'm sorry. I did not mean...to do that." Wednesday apologized. You yawned, and told her it was completely alright. Even after she rudely woke you up.

—

It was lunch, and Wednesday was on her way to the lunch tables, where Enid, Xavier, Eugene, Yoko, and a couple of other students were sitting. "Hey, Wednesday." Yoko greeted her. As usual, Wednesday just nodded in acknowledgement.

Wednesday sat down, and Enid immediately started gushing about the latest tea around the school and on her blog. But Wednesday was barely even listening. Instead, her eyes trailed onto someone behind Enid.

You. You sat at a different table with Bianca, and the other sirens. You were completely engaged in the conversation, that you didn't notice Wednesday's eyes on you.

"Wednesday?" Enid called out. Wednesday glanced at her. Intense glare still not softening. Enid looked behind her, looking for the reason for Wednesday's intense glare.

As soon as she turned around, she saw you and Bianca having an interesting conversation, she immediately knew what was up.

"You know, Wednesday, instead of acting like a creep by staring at them; hoping for y/n to notice you, you should just confess to her." Enid shrugged. Wednesday quickly turned her attention to Enid, brows furrowed. "Excuse me? Confess?" Wednesday said. Yoko butted in, nodding. "Yes. 'Confess.' "

Wednesday looked even more confused. "Oh c'mon. It's obvious that you have feelings for the cutie. Everyone knows." Yoko gave Wednesday a look. Well maybe not everyone.

You and Bianca were the subjects of Wednesday's mocking gaze. Oh, how she wished she could have ripped Bianca's arm off of you. You were giggling at what Wednesday assumed was a joke Bianca told. When you smiled, when you laughed, or really whenever you did anything, you looked so lovely. But the fact that Bianca, not Wednesday, was the one making you laugh so loudly made Wednesday's blood boil.

Bianca glanced at her, giving Wednesday a sly smirk. Bianca well knew that Wednesday had feelings for you. Like previously stated by Yoko, almost everyone knew that Wednesday liked you.

But the reason for Bianca's actions was due to a favor you requested. You see, you felt something for Wednesday, but you weren't sure if she felt the same way about you. So, a thought just entered your mind. To see if Wednesday noticed and perhaps elicit a response from her, you had Bianca pretend to have affection for you.

Now, Bianca ought to have let you know that Wednesday actually felt something for you. But she refrained since she was curious as to how long this would continue before Wednesday loses it and comes clean. And chops off her siren tail to sell at the fish market.

—

Enid scoffed, having enough of Wednesday's pacing around. "Wednesday, you should just ask her out!" Enid gave Wednesday an annoyed look, Thing agreed with her.

Wednesday stopped pacing and looked at Enid, saying, "For the last time, Enid." "I do not have any affectionate feelings for Y/N." 

Enid rolled her eyes. "You allow her to read your unfinished book?"

"She has impeccable knowledge when it comes to writing." Wednesday raised a brow.

"You get extra food in the morning for her. And you say that you don't want her missing breakfast; now if that doesn't sound like someone who cares, I don't know what does!" Enid raised her hands slightly in order to emphasize her point.

"She gets groggy and grumpy in the morning. I find it annoying." Wednesday doesn't blink.

"You are so dense." Enid rolls her eyes.

"Look who's talking." Wednesday replied.

— (Time skip)

After DAYS of talks from Enid and Thing, she finally decided to ask you out.

"Y/N." Wednesday called out, walking towards your desk where you sat. You hadn't even noticed that she had arrived; startling you.

"O-oh! Wednesday, you're here." You jumped back slightly. Wednesday quickly muttered a quick 'sorry'. You told her that there was no need to apologize since you knew that she didn't mean it.

"You're a little early for our study session, Wen. Did you miss me that much?" You joked, giving her a playful smile. Wednesday felt like her heart was about to leap out of her chest. Yes, it was just a simple joke, but it was enough to make Wednesday feel as if she was on fire.

Her cheeks were dusted with a soft pink blush; so soft that you would only notice if you were looking intently at her face.

— (Time skip)

In the middle of your study session, Wednesday cleared her throat. You looked up, concerned, thinking that Wednesday had possibly gotten a cold. "Are you okay?" You asked while moving closer to the black-haired girl. Wednesday let out a breath and nodded.

"I was wondering..." Her eyes trailed off to the bookshelf you had in your room. "Yeah?" You replied, slightly tilting your head to the side, indicating that you were fully listening.

Wednesday let out a sigh and continued where she left off. "Would you like to go and get lunch with me sometime?" She asked. She tensed up a bit, afraid of your reply.

You made the young Addams feel things she has never felt before, and it is truly bewildering.

You were surprised by the question. You didn't think Wednesday would ask you that, let alone be into those things. You smiled and nodded. "I'd love to." You said you gave her a sweet smile.

Wednesday felt all of her worries lift off her shoulders. The worry of being rejected, the worry of you possibly thinking that she was joking—they were all gone.

"Under the willow tree, 11:30 a.m. tomorrow. Don't be late." She said it firmly. "Understood." You say you're looking up at her, smiling sweetly.

"Now, shall we continue our study session?"

After your date, things changed. For the better, of course. You and Wednesday had become undeniably closer, soon making your relationship official. Everyone was relieved and satisfied, especially those who had bets on you and Wednesday.

Over time, Wednesday was able to call this "sickness" something more heartfelt: love.

a/n:

Hello my sweethearts, did you guys miss me?

I have been taking a break for months now. I honestly thought that I was able to squeeze in even just an hour for my writing time just so I could publish for you guys.

But, alas, that was not possible. (ノ﹏ヽ🎀)

I really did miss you guys, and I hope you guys will enjoy this one. You guys can probably tell that I got lazy with the last bit but that's our little secret, 'kay?

PLEASE REMEMBER THAT I DID NOT PROOF READ THIS SO IF THERE ARE ANY MISTAKES, I DO APOLOGIZE.

ᘏ🩷ᘏ   ഒ    zᶻ ꒰˶  - ˕ -꒱ ⌒)ᦱ

That's all remember that I luv u all so muchhh!! xoxo ♡ - ©unforgettwble-sumii

©unforgettwble-sumii's work. Pls do not repost, steal modify, or translate.

[penelopesbaby]

Asirel fic recs pls ANYTHING TO DO WITH PET

heh... bet 😼

Christmas wishlist

- Trying to convince Asirel to take a break + Christmas! -

|| use of nick names (obviously) / gender neutral (sort of) / vampire reader / pet x master trope / fluffy / CHRISTMAS!!! ||

12:30 already? You scoff.

Asirel had been busy all day, only speaking to you out of command. Of course he didn't mean to come off as rude, he was simply busier than usual, and you understood why.

Christmas was approaching. His staff were on longer breaks to spend time with family, leaving more work for him than usual. It was understandable, yet frustrating.

Knocking on his office door you wait for the 'ok' to come in, quietly entering the decent sized office. You walk to his desk and pull a chair in front of it while he eyes you, waiting for you to speak.

"Uhm, master?" You start.

"What is it pet? Do you need something or would you just like to keep me company?" He asks.

"No I.. Well.. I was just kinda wondering when you were going to go to bed? It's past midnight and you haven't really come out of your office much."

He sets the pen he was signing papers with down and sighs.

"I know, pet. I’m sorry you're lonely, I really am. But I need to finish this work, you know it's been busy-" you cut him off.

"No I know! But you've been nonstop all day I haven't even seen you eat anything, nor has anyone brought you any food."

"I have food."

"You have granola bars."

He doesn't speak for a moment, and it's quiet while he tries to figure out what to say.

You tap your fingers on his desk and watch him run his fingers through his hair before talking.

"Look. I know you know my staff have longer breaks because of the holiday season. Thats why I've been so busy. I can't take as much time off as I was last month because of I do nothing will get done."

"I know, master," you take your hand off the desk "but I haven't seen you take any breaks. At all. It's midnight and you haven't left this room once. Are you not tired?" You asked.

He gives you a look of annoyance because he knows you're right. He doesn't want to admit how tired he's been and how exhausted the work he's had to take on has made him. He can only imagine how you feel.

You have no one to talk to. Sure you have television, you have books and music to entertain you, but you want company. He knows that, and a part of him feels guilty for locking himself away and only talking to you when necessary.

"Give me your loyalty in return for attention"

You had given your loyalty, and he had only now realized that he was not giving you his attention.

Admitting defeat, he closes his folder and looks back up at you.

"I am." He spoke, "I am tired. And you're right. I haven't taken breaks even though I know I need to."

"Maybe you should take a day off, and i have the perfect idea of what we should do!" You suggest.

"And what is that?"

"We should watch The Polar Express first!" You squeal grabbing the remote.

"Ah- ah, wait, I thought you said we would watch that new movie first?"

Asirel grabs the remote from your hands while you snuggle under the blanket, basically taking up the whole thing while you watch him find the movie.

"Ok.. Well aren't you comfortable. Are you planning on sharing the blanket or should I get my own?" He teases.

You lift your arm and toss the fuzzy blanket over him, while also sneaking a bite of the popcorn from the bowl in his lap.

"Of course I’ll share with you! As long as you share some of that body heat.... And maybe the snacks as well."

He grabs the blanket and lifts it a bit, giving you space to crawl under his arm and rest your head in the crook of his neck, before putting it back down.

You let out a soft sigh of contentment as he runs his hand down your neck and back, soothing you a little bit as the movie starts. He felt nice. His body heat warm like the sun that had set hours ago, and his touch that felt gentle, almost like a mother calming her children.

You loved these little moments where you could cuddle together and actually enjoy it instead of just falling asleep right away because of the extreme work loads he had taken on. Listen to his quiet breathing, or his soft chuckles at stupid jokes in the movie. It made you feel happy just knowing he was there, with you. Not with his papers, not with his work or his computer or his phone calls. With you.

You only realize you're staring when a random loud noise from the movie catches you're attention. Playing with the fur on the blanket, you look back up at him, watching how concentrated he is on the TV.

"Master." Catches his attention.

"Merry Christmas." You whispered.

"Merry Christmas, pet." He whispered back.

I don’t know how to end this but I rly like this one 😝

I was so excited when I got this request I LOVE asirel thats my MYYYAAAANNNN

Sorry its so short I know its kinda rushed I’m just kinda trying to get these out right now lmao

[sorinethemastermind]

Fluffcember 2024: Fondue | Rayllum & Sorvus & Clauderry Callum is determined to ask Rayla to be his girlfriend this Winter Break. But if he can't even start a fire, how is he supposed to create the perfect moment? Soren has decided to stay on campus this Christmas, but with Rayla and Callum as his only company, he's starting to feel like a third wheel. Except maybe it's not just the three of them left on campus after all. Meanwhile Claudia is trying to have a nice Christmas with her family, but maybe her family isn't at home...

 The stars were out, moonlight streaming through the open blinds of Callum’s room. Everything was perfect. Not that it needed to be, he reminded himself. 

 But still, it was and that was nice.

 He fidgeted again with the arrangement of the cheeseboard. Was it too neat? Should it be more casual? How did Pinterest make them look like an artform? He switched the crackers from one side to the other.

 Did that look better? He didn’t think so. It looked… pretty much the same. Returning them to their original spot, Callum glanced at the clock. Five minutes to six. Four.

 He paced back and forth, muttering the words under his breath.

 “Rayla, will you be my girlfriend?”

 The door opening made him jump, nearly throwing his artfully crafted cheeseboard onto the floor.

 “Callum, did you say something?” Rayla asked, shutting it behind her.

 “What? Uh, no! Why would I be saying?”

 “I… dunno, Callum.” she said, giving him a look. “Why would you be saying?”

 He ran a hand nervously through his hair. “Uh, nevermind. Anyway, I made you a… a thing.” he gestured to the assembled snacks and little candles he’d lit. Rayla’s eyes widened.

 “Oh, Callum. You did all this for me?”

 “Yep.” he puffed out his chest a little bit. “Take a seat. There’s one more thing.”

 He pulled out a chair for her and she sat down at his little desk. The room was sort of cramped, since he’d had to pull it out into the center of the space to fit the both of them at it, but it just lended to the intimacy of the moment (or so he told himself, as he stubbed his toe trying to navigate around it).

 “So, uh, Rayla. There’s actually something I’ve been meaning to ask you.” he said, crawling under his bed with the cord for the fondue machine. Why… did the outlet… have to be… so hard to reach?

 “Mhm?” Rayla’s voice came from behind him, muffled by a full mouth.

 “So… we’ve been going out for a while and- Dammit!” Callum hit his head on the edge of the bed as he got up, rubbing it. “Ow.”

 “Are you okay?”

 “Yeah, yeah. I’m fine. Anyway.” he took a deep breath. It didn’t need to be perfect. “I really like you, Rayla.”

 “I really like you too, Callum.” She said, eyes sparkling in the moonlight.

 He walked back over to the table, biting his lip a little bit to stop the goofy grin he could feel spreading across his face.

 “Here, watch this.” Callum reached out and clicked on the fondue fountain and Rayla clapped.

 “Ooo! That’s so fun!”

 “And delicious.”  

 Callum watched as she picked up a piece of bread and dipped it into the fountain. He could have stared at her for hours. He reached out and wiped a bit of melted cheese off her cheek with his thumb, and she stared up at him, eyes wide and glimmering.

 Like little stars, shining just for him.

 “You know, Rayla, I kept worrying that this moment had to be perfect. That everything had to be perfect. Because you’re perfect. To me. And I like you so, so much. But I- I sort of realized that nothing is perfect, well, except maybe you. Like I said. Anyway, I’m getting all tripped up, sorry. But wait, maybe that’s the point! That it’s not going to be perfect, whatever I do, but it’s going to be our perfect-” Callum cut himself off before he could start making any less sense. “So I’m just going to ask you. Rayla, will you be my-”

 There was a flicker and then everything plunged into darkness.

 “Callum!? What happened?”

 He glanced around, confused, the only light coming from the little candles he’d lit on the table. They illuminate the fondue fountain as it ground to a sluggish halt.

 His phone pinged.

 Soren: Dude, did you just lose power, too?

 Callum typed back a quick affirmative. He knew the building was old, but this had never… his eyes landed on the fondue fountain as the last bits of melted cheese slowly dripped down it’s side. He scowled.

 Of course.

 “I think… I think I blew the breaker.” he said sheepishly.

 Rayla laughed, shaking her head. “Idiot.” she pushed the chair back, getting up, and walked around the table to take his hands in hers. “Lucky for you the dark is kind of romantic.”

 He flushed. She was so close, he could feel her breath warm on his face. She gave his hands a squeeze.

 “There was something you wanted to ask me?”

 Callum took a deep breath. “Rayla, will you be my-”

 The door flew open and Soren walked in. “-definitely a problem with the breaker. It’s gonna get pretty cold tonight. I was thinking we might all want to huddle up in one room. Like a sleepover!” he grabbed a cracker from the cheeseboard, popping it into his mouth and continued as he chewed. “I already text Corvus.”

 Callum’s breath came out as more of a sigh. “Alright. I’ll grab some blankets and meet you in your room, okay? Could you just give Rayla and I a moment to-” he shook his head, turning back to Rayla. “You know what, nevermind. Rayla, will you be my girlfriend?”

 She smiled. “Of course I will, you big dummy.” She grabbed the front of his shirt and pulled him down into a kiss.

 They broke apart when Soren started to clap.

 They both stared at him, and he popped another cracker in his mouth. “What? This is a big moment for you two.”

 Rayla rolled her eyes, turning back to Callum. “What was that about wanting it to be perfect?”

 “It’s a story.” Callum decided. “It’ll be fun to tell at parties.”

 “I guess that’s kind of perfect, in our own little way.” his girlfriend placed another gentle kiss against his lips.

[sylix-royalty]

Brainstorming for my next letter of ‘P’, which will probably stand for peppermint.

Type: Fluffy/slightly warm, barely spicy

Warning: None

Enjoy under the cut!

There’s a line between boss and subordinate that should never be crossed, everyone is aware of that rule. They know it. They’re reminded of it every year, and none of them are really known to be rule breakers. At least, none of them thought the others to be. Then again, the rule wasn’t terribly enforced, despite it being a constant reminder every year at the building’s week of meetings. They’re always dodging questions about Hillary and Rupert in IT, or Joshua and Kaleb in another department. It was a rule, but if you knew the right people then it really didn’t matter.

What did matter, was that Aaron knew the right people. So, when he and Spencer started getting closer, he prepared himself and his bosses, while reassuring them that it wouldn’t affect their job at all, being the ones to go out into the field and all. And he was right, Spencer and Aaron knew the line between work and personal and they never crossed it. Never enough for it to be a problem, anyway.

But when Spencer hurt his collarbone on a case and was required to stay home for a few weeks, Aaron toed that line a bit more. Sometimes he wondered if Spencer liked being home with Jack, being a sort of housewife (even if they both knew that, that wasn’t the dynamic they wanted or were comfortable in).

Spencer was fairly healed by now, a little tenseness sometimes, but otherwise his muscles and fracture had been healed, and he was due back to work. But, Aaron, selfishness, didn’t want him going back to be met with everyones prying eyes just yet. He stayed close to Spencer throughout the evening, wrapping his arms around him in the kitchen as Spencer cooked dinner, pulling Spencer closer during movie night with Jack, really just unwilling to let him go. Almost as if he was afraid that the moment he did let Spencer go, he would disappear within the blink of an eye and appear back at his desk, putting space between them until they decided to go home for the night, as had been previously.

Spencer wasn’t blind, and he sure as shit wasn’t dumb.

“You can’t hog me forever, Aaron,” Spencer whispered as he crawled onto the bed next to Aaron.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Aaron whispered, wrapping his arm around Spencer as the genius leaned down to kiss him softly.

“Mhm,” Spencer hummed softly into the kiss, chuckling a bit as his legs straddled Aaron’s, effectively sitting on his thighs. “I’m healed, Aaron. I’ve been called back into work, you’re not the only one with a job to do, darling.”

“I know,” Aaron sighed, “Can you blame me for wanting just a bit more time with you?”

“No, but if they’d give you an inch you’d want to take the mile,” Spencer hummed, leaning down to kiss him again, gently holding Aaron’s face. Aaron smiled into the kiss, and Spencer gently moved his kisses down Aaron’s lips, cheeks, chin, down to his neck.

Aaron hummed deeply head tilting back a bit as Spencer loved against his skin.

“I want more than a mile,” Aaron whispered, and Spencer chuckled softly.

“I guess I can give you a bit more,” Spencer whispered, and Aaron chuckled warmly, leaning into Aaron more. Aaron groaned softly, leaning into Spencer back and raising his hands under Spencer’s shirt. Spencer hummed, smiling feeling the cool against his skin.

“Just a little bit?” Aaron whispered, squeezing his skin.

Spencer chuckled, stripping his shirt off and letting Aaron toss it into the void of their floor. Aaron’s lips kissed at Spencer’s neck next, and Spencer inhaled sharply.

Spencer chuckled, through a soft whine, “Just a bit.”

[indomiinus]

@fightful // planned starter

It had been several months, almost a year, since the Darkest Day and Eternatus's release and subsequent capture at the hands of the new Champion Gloria. It wasn't allowed to stay with her though, it had been swiftly quarantined because it was just reckless to leave something like that in the hands of a child, no matter how capable. It had also been months since Chairman Rose's arrest and Macro Cosmos was transferred to Leon.

It’d just been one thing after another, a nonstop roller coaster of emotions and Leon was tired. Maybe tired was an understatement.

"You don't need that pressure on top of everything else," Piers had told him while Leon sat drunk and miserable in Piers’s crappy flat in Spikemuth after a particularly rough meeting with the company board. "Let the other suits manage shit. This is just another way for Rose to screw you over; you think he gave it to you because he knew you could handle it? He gave it to you to crush you. Throw it in the bin."

And Leon thought about doing just that. He thought long and hard about what he wanted to do. It felt wasteful receiving Rose's legacy only to throw it into the trash; despite it all, he still cared about Rose and valued him and his opinions. What would Rose think? Would he be angry at Leon for squandering this "last gift?" Though, was it really a gift considering the things he’d uncovered about Rose while he was trying to get up to speed on the company?

The shady dealings, the contacts whose numbers were locked behind passwords that he couldn’t crack… It made his skin crawl somehow.

So Leon had to make his first real choice by himself. He just wished it wasn’t so hard. So Leon had to make his first real choice. There were only a select few people he trusted Macro Cosmos and the League to, and that was the Gym Leaders.

It wasn't on paper yet, and some weren't fully on board yet, but things were progressing and the interested Gym Leaders were starting to lay out and write down their requirements and ideas for the future direction of Macro Cosmos. That was a start, and Leon just had to keep the company afloat until negotiations were complete. 

He could surely do that much, right?

He was restless, lost, constantly looking to people who were just as lost as he was or just as uncertain. He did his best - but his best certainly wasn't good enough. Error after error came back, piling up on his desk and most nights Leon slept in the office that still smelled heavily of Rose's namesake even months later. It was nauseating being surrounded by nothing but reminders of complicated, sickening feelings of disgust and childish dependency and not having the time or space to sort the feelings out.

Even his own flat was decorated the way Rose had wanted it to be. He hadn't changed a thing about it. Hell, he'd barely been home to change anything.

That night though, Leon had forced himself to get out of the office and try to go home to his flat in Wyndon. 

Leon groaned, rubbing his palm across his face and rubbing the exhaustion from his eyes as he dragged himself down the quiet Wyndon streets towards Champion Crossing Station with his Mr. Rime, Reginald, guiding him.

"I'm so tired..." He complained under his breath, pulling his Rotom phone out and unlocking it. He yawned, the Rotom automatically opening up a list of currently open restaurants so he could grab something. Even if it was small, it was better than nothing. He just couldn't go to bed on an empty stomach again or else he was going to be sick in the morning. “I wonder if anywhere is even open at this hour…” Leon squinted at the screen, trying to read the offered list, but his strained reading was interrupted by a missed call notification from his mom.

"How long ago was that call?" He asked.

The Rotom hummed. "An hour." It answered cheerily. "Call back?"

Leon rubbed a palm against the side of his neck, and let out a heavy sigh. "Yeah, call back. It's so late, what's she even doing awake?" It only rang once before she answered, and he was barely able to get out a, "Hi mum," before his mother was interrupting him.

"Have you seen Hop?"

"Hop? No, I haven't, not for a while." Leon answered, scratching his chin and looking up in thought. "Have you called Gloria or Marnie?"

"Mhmm... they said they haven't seen him for a few days. I was hoping that maybe he was with you..."

Leon's stomach sank, and any amount of exhaustion he felt melted away slowly, seeping from his body like sand in an hourglass. He pressed a palm to his mouth, trying to hide the way his jaw had grown tense and his mouth had formed a thin, anxious line. "What about with Bede?" He suggested, only to be met with another negative. He sucked down a breath through his teeth and he let his hand fall from his face. "How long has he been missing? Have you tried calling him?"

"He's been gone for three days, and he isn’t answering. His Rotom just goes straight to voicemail." His mom's voice wavered. “I… I’m sure he’s just off collecting Pokemon. Maybe he’s up north… cell service is a bit spotty up there…”

Leon nodded even though some part of him felt like the whole situation was off somehow. He’d been up there plenty of times, and he’d never had signal trouble before. But if it made his mother feel better, then he would let it slide. “Yeah, I’m sure he’s fine. But, I’ll come by, okay? I’ll take a few days off, and when Hop gets back, we’ll have a nice family reunion.” Leon really hoped it would be that easy. He didn’t want to think about the worst case scenario.

His words seemed to appease his mother at least, and that was all he could ask for. 

After a quick goodbye, Leon put in his notice for time off and recalled Reginald into his ball. In the same motion, he summoned Jules. The massive Charizard, larger and sturdier than most in the region, shook his head and gave his trainer a rough nudge with his snout and rumbled low in his chest.

"We'll get to rest soon, buddy, I promise." Leon apologized, patting Jules's cheek. "We’re taking a little vacation back home and I’d like to get there quick as you can, alright?" Jules snorted, and that was all the confirmation Leon needed. Without a moment more of hesitation, he hopped onto his Charizard's back and Jules took off like a shot.

Still, that rock of fear sat heavy in his gut. Not even the cold wind rushing past him and whipping his hair about his face and back chased it away. It just felt like he was missing something. Or something was wrong.

I hope I’m just being paranoid. Maybe once I get some sleep, I’ll have a clearer head.

—

Two days passed in Postwick and still nothing from Hop.

Leon and Jules had gone out to search the area, and the police had even been called, but both avenues had turned up nothing. Well, Leon’s search hadn’t, and the police just didn’t seem that pressed about the issue. A missing kid wasn’t exactly a serious thing; sometimes kids just got the itch for adventure and ran off, and then came back months later, their wanderlust sated. But Leon and his mom knew better than that.

Hop wasn’t the type of teenager to get up and run off just because the feeling hit him. He especially wouldn’t ignore phone calls. But the police just brushed them both off, though they finally did promise to at least keep an eye out for him. Leon had never been the type to lash out physically before, but in that moment, he certainly felt like he wanted to. He’d never been dismissed so easily before, especially when it came to something like this.

His mother was inconsolable and Leon was a nervous wreck; he barely slept, spending every hour scouring the air and the countryside for Hop in hopes of spotting him or a camp of his, but there was nothing there. Leon had questioned everyone Hop knew, hoping that maybe someone had seen him, but no one had but he hadn’t pressed much harder than that before he was moving on to the next person and place. But still, Hop was missing.

He’d been missing for a week now.

It was as if Hop had simply… vanished.

Leon sat at his desk in his old childhood bedroom, Hop’s journals and maps spread out in front of him and fear and anxiety gripping his chest in a vice. He’d felt bad looking at his brother’s private thoughts and feelings, and some of them certainly hurt to read, but he wasn’t there to snoop. He was just looking for… something. Anything. Any kind of clue as to where he could have gone to. 

But there was nothing. And that was terrifying. His mouth had felt dry all day, no matter how much water or tea he drank, and his mother hadn’t stopped pacing or staring out the window since the police dismissed them both. Something was drastically wrong, and there was nothing he could do about it.

Leon groaned, hanging his head.

“Where is he…” He muttered to the air. “He can’t really have run off, could he?”

His Rotom chirped, pushing its way forward so Leon would have to look at the screen when he lifted his head. He gave it a wary look, eyes scanning the words and images on the screen and he grimaced faintly. “A… PI? What good is that going to do? Won’t he just say the same thing the cops did?” Leon questioned.

The Rotom gave the impression of a shrug. “Can it hurt to try?” It asked.

Leon sat up straighter, taking the Rotom into his hands and studying the address and reviews. “I don’t know… I guess not… I just–” Leon rubbed a hand at the side of his neck, brow furrowed. He chewed on his lower lip and pushed himself to his feet. “Alright. Alright, it’s the last legal channel I have, and then after that I’ll just have to figure something out. Even if I have to go find him by myself. Where’s that guy located at? Motostoke?”

“Yessir! I’ll set the GPS for his office.” The Rotom replied.

“Thanks.”

He grabbed his jacket on the way out, yanking it on as he took the steps two at a time. He paused by the front door, looking over at his mother, his brow furrowed. She was sound asleep on the couch, which she’d turned to face the big garden window in the living room and he felt bad leaving her alone like this without telling her to her face. All he could do was leave a note, which he stuck to the front door with some poster putty from one of the kitchen junk drawers.

‘Be back soon. Going to Motostoke, I’ll be back tomorrow.’

And with that, he was out the door.

With Jules flying him there, it didn’t take long for them to reach Kabu’s city, the Rotom tucked into the front of Leon’s jacket and spitting out directions and distance to their destination. The second it exclaimed, “Our destination is under us!”, Jules dove down lazily to land in a small convenience store parking lot so he didn’t halt traffic or cause an accident. 

Leon hopped off his Charizard’s back and recalled him immediately. The Rotom freed itself from his coat and, once it was sure Leon was following, led the way down the street. They’d landed a couple blocks away, and while Leon had hoped the walk would steady his nerves, it just made him feel even more antsy, and maybe just a bit silly somehow.

He’d never, in a million years, could have imagined he’d be hiring a private investigator. It was the kind of thing that happened in movies or books, not real life.

It felt surreal walking up to the red brick building, a cute three story building that must have been apartments at some point in time before they’d been converted into freelance offices of various sorts, and the age of the building clashed with the new-ish electric buzzer system by the door. Leon fidgeted a bit with the hem of his jacket, scanning the tags until he found what he was looking for.

OCTAVIUS GREAT, PRIVATE INVESTIGATOR

“Well…” He took a breath and let out a nervous, anxious little laugh. “Here goes…” He pressed the button and stepped back, waiting with butterflies in his stomach to get buzzed in. His Rotom stayed at his side, ready to lead him around since it was likely that Leon would end up lost just stepping into the building.

[kameyyy]

Hello Mey!!!! Lovely to be here again!!! this is my last one of the night I think *sweats*

Mattsun!!! :D

So this was already seen by you but like he is such a skin to skin contact person

like you're in a sweater or hoodie and he crawls under it and pokes his head out of the neck hole too

He likes to wake you up by peppering kisses on your face

he starts food fights in the kitchen anytime you two try and cook because he can't help himself he just wants to have fun with you lol

does he buy you flowers? no he makes them out of soda can tabs

he's a crafty bitch I just know it

it's like a secret talent, you guys are having a hangout with the others (the seijoh 4) and you guys want to make crafts that you saw on tiktok and bro just goes ham on it but like he's so nonchalant about it

he's like "oh? you didn't know I could do that?" but we all know he's so flipping smug about it

he can't draw but can he craft? absolutely

he likes origami too, he went on a bender in middle school where he stayed up all night making different things and it's just stuck with him

get ready for origami frogs and balloons and stuff

he takes your spare gum wrappers to make little hearts out of them and give them back to you

there's a photo on his nightstand of the two of you together (like before you guys live together) and it's like his favorite photo of the two of you

someone got you two "fighting" in the snow and it's the moment where you're smacking a snowball down on his head and the both of you just have the widest smiles on your faces

which brings me to. snowball fights are a must

like you have to, he is forcing you to put gloves and a coat and stuff on and pulling you outside to snowball fight with him

I could have done more but I'll save that for a later date <3 I love you Mey, sleep well and make sure to take care of yourself darling <333

-all the love in the world, Kai <3

HI KAI !!! i finally feel awake enough to answer and find words and not just go nonverbal and stare at a wall in disassociation delusion style ! :D this took me hours so answer sorry, I had to take breaks because I love this man too much and in a way that would make me end up in a mental hospital if word ever got to my parents ! [insert crying emoji]

SKIN TO SKIN CONTACT WIITH MATTSUN AAAAAAAAAA it's perfect because my love language is physical touch !!!!! I'm gonna crash out guys omg I am not ok

oh I love him I love him I love him I love him I love him, like this is perfect I love it kai I love it so so so much !! my necklines of shirts are always stretched out anyway because I cover the bottom of my face with it when I'm laying down or sitting at a table (started with insecurity, now its just a comfy habit) so he'd have aaaaaaaaaall the space he needs LOL

kai I imagined this. i imagined this when I woke up at 9 am to reply to some people and I crashed out. i had to stop reading the rest because I couldn't handle it. oh my god. I'm ticklish in all sort of ways and I'm a light sleeper and oh my fucking god what if I km GODDDDDDD WHY IS HE NOT REAL

I love him I need food fights with mattsun now

HE MAKES THEM HIMSELF OH MY GOD

you're so right kai and it makes me want him even more

stoppppppp omg I love this I love this this is canon to me now GODDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDD I'M NOT OKAY

no I didn't know about it but it makes him so incredibly hot and attractive I'm gonna km this is too much I cant handle it I need to buy a gun oh my god oh my god

oh I now his ass sucks at drawing, like his skill on the same level of a kid in kindergarten (I love it)

ORIGAMI OH MY GOD HE COULD MAKE PAPER FLOWERS OH MY GOD KAI I'M ACITIVELY DYING RN I AM HASHTAG NAWT OK I AM NAWT OK I AM NAWT OK

oragami frogs and balloons and stuff omg I'm keeping them all and displaying them proudly in my room. they're on my desk, bedside table, window sill, shelf, in my closet, on some random books littered around the room, on my wall, etc

STOPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPP KAI YOU'RE KILLING ME I'M NOT OK!!!!!!! i keep all of them as well. they're in my bag, jacket, phone case and in a special box dedicated to him/us.

i am deceased and I'm writing this reply with my cold corpse. A PICTURE OF US ON HIS NIGHTSTAND ?????????? CRAHSING TF OUT OH MY GODDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDD !!!!!

THAT'S SO CUTEEEE OH MY GODDDD !!!!!!!!!! well that someone either has to be dodger, hanamaki or ennoshita (he is my best friend in self-ship-verse) AND AAAAAAAAAAAA

oh yeah they are, my excuse to beat his ass (I miss 99.9% of the time, I have no aim in any form or way)

...what if he zips my jacket for me GOD I'M NOT OK WHY AM I THINKING THIS GODDDDDDDD

kai i love this. i thank you with every fiber of my being for sending those headcanons to me I am going to buy a gun now. i love you kai, really, thank you so so much for doing this. i admire you a lot for thinking about this kind of stuff, I need AGES to even form one thought. thank you, I did sleep well and I'm trying my best <333

ily <3

[drinkinghotchocolate]

A Well-Deserved Distraction

Summary: With Simon glued to his work, Betty finds a way to capture his attention again.

(AU where Betty never fused with GOLB and married Simon)

---

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!

SMUT with some fluff sprinkled in.

CW: Altered consent within an established relationship. Oral sex, praise, fingering

~5.3k words

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

Simon had been busy at his desk all week working on his latest book, A History of Magic Potions in Ooo. When he wasn’t writing, he was away collecting samples and artifacts for his research. Days like these were difficult for Betty. Simon cared passionately for his work, and he was working on a time crunch. He was set to finish just in time for his upcoming public lecture on the topic. And so, Betty did her best to give him space. In the beginning he took breaks, but as his deadline approached, he became more absorbed. In the past couple of weeks, he had practically locked himself in his study, only leaving to eat, use the bathroom, and collect artifacts. Betty’s  patience was wearing thin as she became more desperate for his attention with each passing day. She knew it was almost over, but she missed her husband.

It was now three days until his deadline. Betty woke up early in the morning. The light of dawn was only beginning to creep in through the window, and yet Simon was not in bed beside her. She crawled out from under the covers and made her way to the study, still wearing her soft green pajamas. She gently opened the door and found a fully-dressed Simon wide awake at his desk, hunched over with pen in hand. He wore his usual outfit - a white button down shirt, blazer, slacks, and red bow tie. Betty found it endearing that he always loves to dress his best, even when he is planning to sit in his room all day. His desk was littered with papers, an assortment of books, and an already-empty coffee mug.

“Good morning, Simon.” Betty croaked groggily.

He turned his head over his shoulder. “Oh! Good morning, princess.” he replied, his voice cheerful yet tired. He smiled at her, then turned back towards his work.

As much as Betty missed him, she couldn’t help but admire Simon’s work ethic. She approached him from behind, cupped his cheek with one hand, and gave him a kiss on top of his head. She gently rubbed circles on his back with her other hand. Although Simon���s focus remained fixated on his writing, his muscles gradually loosened underneath her palm. He let out a faint sigh. Pleased by this reaction, Betty kissed him again on the head, then slid her hand downwards from his cheek, allowing her fingertips to slowly trail down the side of his neck. This made Simon shudder slightly. She then extended her hand forward and collected his empty mug from the table. In doing so, she had enveloped him in a sort of half-hug, with her head resting in the crook of his neck and her chest pressed against his shoulders. Simon turned for a moment to kiss her on the cheek.

“I’ll be done soon, I promise.” he reassured. Mostly for Betty, but also for himself.

“I know.” she sighed. “I’ll see you later, cutie.” With his used mug in hand, she kissed him on the head one more time, then exited the study. She closed the door behind her and began to make her way to the kitchen. 

“I love you!” Simon called out, his voice muffled.

“I love you too!” She called back.

Betty entered the kitchen and washed out Simon’s mug in the sink, along with the used plate, fork, and knife sitting in the basin. Simon must have already made himself breakfast. Now feeling hungry herself, Betty opened the fridge door.

Front and center was a large plastic tupperware container with a yellow sticky note attached, the word “Princess” written on it in Simon’s handwriting. There were lots of cute little hearts drawn around her name, too. Delighted, Betty pulled out the container and discovered a variety of her favorite foods inside. A muffin, a container of yogurt, and fresh berries. She was touched by this thoughtful gesture. She ate the muffin and decided to save the rest for later.

When she opened the fridge to put away her food, a small, suspicious-looking, brown paper bag caught her attention. It was tucked deep into a corner behind a jar of pasta sauce, despite the fridge not being so full. This was definitely intentional, she thought. Curious, Betty retrieved the bag and opened it up. Inside, she discovered a little glass bottle. The cap had an intricate, heart-shaped sigil engraved into it. The inside of the bottle was filled with an opaque and shimmering pink liquid with red swirls dancing throughout. Was this part of Simon’s research? Why was it in the fridge? Betty further inspected the inside of the paper bag and found a small note. The handwriting was small and unfamiliar to her.

“Potion of Desire. Guaranteed to give your lover the time of their life. Handle with care - this potion must be stored out of direct sunlight and in a cold environment. Ingest 2-3 drops and wait 15 minutes for best effect.”

Betty’s eyes widened in surprise and heat rushed to her ears. Did Simon really just obtain this for his research, or did he have other intentions? She slipped the potion and note back into the bag and tucked it back into the corner of the fridge, careful to hide it behind the sauce jar just as before.

Lusty thoughts flooded her mind. Three more days. How can she possibly be patient for him now? What was Simon planning for her? She had to return the favor somehow. Determined, Betty returned to her bedroom and changed from her pajamas into her regular clothes. Next, she packed her bag for an outing before making her way to the front door. Just as she was exiting the house, she called out to Simon.

“Honey, I’m going out for a bit!”

“Okay! Love you!” he shouted.

----

Several hours passed. Simon entered the kitchen to make himself lunch. He knew that Betty must still be away - otherwise, she would have definitely taken this opportunity to shower him with affection. Ever since he began focusing on his new book, she had developed a new talent for hearing his footsteps from anywhere in the house. Simon felt guilty for not giving Betty much attention lately. Just a little while longer until he finishes his work. Perhaps he can finish in one more day if he really focuses? 

“That’s it, I’ll just have to cram it.” Simon thought to himself.

He noticed his dishes had been washed, which he appreciated. Betty had been so kind to him, doing her best to take care of his share of chores when possible to let him focus. Simon opened the fridge door and was faced with the tupperware and sticky note. He wondered whether she had noticed her surprise yet. Curious, he pulled out the container and checked inside. The muffin was gone - so she had definitely noticed. Pleased with himself, Simon put it back and rummaged around for a moment, looking for something quick to eat. That’s when the pasta sauce jar caught his eye. When he had put it in place last night, the label was facing to the left. Now, it was facing forward. Worried that Betty had seen the little paper bag, he nervously snatched it from its spot and examined its contents. Was the second part of her surprise ruined? Everything seemed normal. Perhaps she had just nudged the sauce jar by mistake? “Just paranoia,” he thought to himself as he returned the potion to its bag. He pushed it back into the corner and continued about his day.

----

It was the early evening when Betty returned from her outing. She had traveled to the Breakfast Kingdom to buy a big bag of Simon’s favorite coffee beans, along with a variety of new blends for him to try. Along the way, she made a pit-stop to buy a new set of lingerie for herself. She chose something lacy and black. It was classy and sophisticated, and she was sure it would make her feel extra sexy. She looked forward to showing it off to her husband soon. 

Betty opened the front door and Simon was seen standing in the kitchen, book in hand, about to prepare a fresh cup of coffee to hold him over for the night. His hair was slightly messy, and his eyes looked heavy.

“Oh, hi Betty!” he greeted, setting his book onto the counter. He widened his arms, inviting her for a hug. She practically teleported to him, and the two shared a light kiss.

“I brought you a present!” Betty exclaimed. “I was so happy when I saw the treats you got for me this morning, so I wanted to return the favor.”

She pulled away from the hug and slung her bag off her shoulder, then revealed the bags of coffee beans.

“Oh, princess! Did you go all the way to the Breakfast Kingdom just for this?” Simon said, a touch of giddiness present in his voice. “Thank you so much, you’re so perfect!” He pulled her in once again, this time gently wrapping his arms around her waist and kissing her several times on the forehead. This made Betty grin.

“Simon, why don’t you go back to your study and I’ll bring you your coffee? Because I want you to finish your work like...as soon as humanly possible.”

“Okay, thank you sweetheart. You’re so-” he pecked her forehead again “-thoughtful.”

Simon left the kitchen and Betty started to prepare his coffee. She decided to try out one of the new blends and selected a salted caramel flavor. As she waited for it to brew, she found herself growing impatient, and her mind wandered to lusty thoughts of Simon. Maybe a snack would help distract her. She opened the fridge and was faced with the sauce jar again. Just then, she was struck with a mischievous idea. Betty reached into the corner and retrieved the brown paper bag.

She looked at the instructions again. “2-3 drops for best effect.” One drop would be fine, right? Maybe that would be just enough to get him in the mood. Perhaps then, he would have the energy to have some fun with her tonight before he went to sleep. She justified her actions to herself as she pulled out the potion and set it atop the kitchen counter.

She finished preparing his cup of coffee, Then, she unscrewed the bottle cap from the potion, which had a conveniently built-in dropper on its underside. The liquid sparkled in the light and smelled like chocolate. Betty used the dropper to suck up some of the potion, then positioned it above Simon’s mug. She gently began to squeeze on the dropper, careful not to overdo it. One drop. She stood frozen in place for a brief moment, then her lips curved upwards into a smirk. She impulsively added two more drops.

Suddenly, she heard soft footsteps approaching from the hallway. A small jolt of adrenaline ran through her, and her body tensed up. Her hand gripped the little dropper just slightly tighter, and two more drops spilled out. Shit.

She quickly screwed the cap back onto the potion, hands shaking slightly, and slipped it back into its bag in the fridge. She managed to hide it just in time.

“This smells delicious!” Simon’s voice came from behind her. Betty whipped her head around. 

“I forgot my book,” Simon continued. “I’m going to hunker down for the night. I probably won’t finish until after you go to bed.” He looked from her, then towards the coffee. “Thank you, I can’t wait to try this. I love you, Princess. I promise we will spend more time together very, very soon.” He took her by the hands, kissed her on the lips, then picked up his book and coffee.

Betty considered coming clean for a moment. However, she decided to let the scenario play out. “I love you too, Simon!” she said. He made a little kissy face at her, then returned to his study.

Fifteen minutes until it kicks in... Betty decided to take this time to try on her new lingerie. She took her backpack with her into the bedroom, then stood in front of the full-length mirror. She changed out of her outfit and slid into her new panties and bra. The lacy undergarments fit her body well, and the black color made her red hair pop. She felt satisfied with her look. 

It had only been five minutes. She brushed her hair and teeth, then applied some vanilla scented lotion to her body. Ten minutes had passed. She began to wonder how much coffee Simon had drank yet, if any at all, and decided to find out for herself. She put on her pajamas and buttoned them up, concealing her lingerie. Silently, she tiptoed her way to her husband’s study.

Betty cracked open the door slowly, careful not to make any noise. She peeked into the room and saw his backside. He sat motionless, reading over a passage. However, after a couple of minutes he finally took the mug from the tabletop to drink. Judging by the angle he tilted it at, she figured he had already drank a third, or perhaps half of the coffee already. Soon enough, he took another sip. He hummed to himself in delight, then finished it off with a final swig. It was done.

As the minutes passed, Simon grew more restless. His writing pace slowed as he found himself struggling to recall information. His mind became hazy and the words on the pages became increasingly nonsensical to him. Betty watched his leg twitch a few times before he began to tap his foot gently on the floor. The tapping became more frantic. Simon reached up to his collar and removed his bow tie, then undid the top few buttons of his shirt. Why was it so hot in here? He compulsively ran his hands through his hair several times.

Betty took this as her cue. She carefully twisted the door handle and silently closed it. Then, she knocked gently. Startled, Simon arose from his desk and nearly tripped over his own feet as he scurried to the door. He flung it open with more force than he intended.

“Yes, princess...ah, um, Betty?” he stammered. Somehow, his wife looked extra beautiful. She looked so cute in her pajamas, and the faint smell of vanilla wafted up to his nose. He admired her red hair, which was soft and shiny. Without thinking, he reached a hand up to cup her cheek, then smoothed it over the side of her head, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear.

In her excitement, Betty had failed to think of an explanation for why she knocked on his door. She said nothing, but Simon didn’t take notice of her awkward pause. He was a hot mess - his fluffy black hair was disheveled, his face was flushed pink, and his knees were wobbling slightly.

“Are you okay?” Betty finally asked softly. He opened his mouth slightly, but no words came out. “Simon?” she looked up at him. 

Simon’s thoughts quickly became incoherent to himself. Words and ideas became mere impulses. He leaned in and kissed her, squeezing the left side of her neck gently with his hand. She hummed in pleasure. Simon moved his face to her right ear, then slowly kissed his way down her neck and to her collar bone. His lips warm and soft against her flesh.

“Oh...Simon~” she chuckled. She was pleased with herself - the potion was clearly effective.

He felt a tingling heat spread through his lower half. He wanted her.

“Mmm...Betty…” he mumbled into her neck. 

She smirked. “What is it, Doctor Petrikov? I thought you were busy with your research.”

The use of ‘Doctor Petrikov’ caused another wave of warmth to spread through him. “Please, aah...Betty...I need you, so gorgeous” he whimpered, struggling to form complete sentences.

“You want to do that? I'd love to but...I don’t know...weren't you hunkering down for the night?” she pulled away from him to look him in the eyes, then tugged playfully on the loosened collar of his shirt. He could tell by the tone of her voice that she was toying with him.

“Oh princess, please don’t make me beg. I can’t take it!”

Betty had him right where she wanted him. She took him by the hand, then led him back to his desk chair and gestured for him to sit, which he did without hesitation. He was used to her taking charge.

She sat and positioned herself in his lap, facing him. She felt his erection beneath her through his slacks. She took both of his hands and brought the backs of them up to her lips, then kissed gently. Next, she guided them to the buttons on her pajamas. Simon hastily began to unbutton her top.

At the first sight of her black lacy bra, Simon let out a frantic half gasp, half moan. Betty felt his cock throb beneath her. He had only made it halfway down her top, but his hands were now so shaky he couldn’t undo the buttons. 

Betty giggled. “Hehe, you’re so adorable, Simon~” She once again took his hands in hers and they locked eyes. His eyes were half-lidded, and his breathing was now ragged. She placed his hands underneath her breasts, then unbuttoned the rest of her pajamas as he fondled her. She slid her top off from her shoulders and it fell to the ground. Then, Betty gripped Simon’s shoulders and started to grind against his crotch.

“P-princess, aah~” he whined desperately, squeezing his eyes shut. He was grasping at her chest more vigorously now. Betty savored the moment, enjoying the feeling of his clothed dick rubbing against her. Wanting to make him squirm even more, she leaned forward and began sucking on his neck. A weakness for him.

“Betty!” He cried out.

She pulled away and whispered into his ear. “Shhh...be a good boy and relax for me.” Her soft lips grazed the shell of his ear, hot breath tickling his skin. She took his earlobe between her teeth and slowly pulled outward, dragging along it gently. 

Simon bit his lip and attempted to suppress his moan, hips bucking involuntarily. He felt completely weak and helpless underneath her. His mind was spinning. All he could think about was how badly he wanted Betty to never stop touching him.

Betty continued nipping and sucking at his neck as she unbuttoned his shirt. She removed it along with his blazer, revealing his thin frame. He looked delicious, Betty thought. She slid down from his lap onto her knees and, still facing him, grasped his slacks and pulled them off with ease. Simon was now just in his underwear. Betty slipped off her own pajama bottoms, then scooted forward and grabbed her husband firmly by each thigh. She leaned in and kissed his still clothed crotch, applying a bit of pressure with her lips. Warm dampness seeped through the fabric.

“Betty! Oh Betty, I can’t take this! Please!”

“Patience, love.” she teased. Betty loved driving him a little crazy. She continued to kiss between his legs as his hips twitched wildly.

After a little while, she finally decided to amp things up. She slipped off his underwear and his cock sprung out, veins bulging. She kissed the head a few times, then licked from the base all the way to the tip. This caused Simon to groan deeply, and precum leaked out.

“Oh, already?~” Betty purred, amused. 

She watched it drip down and then, just as it reached the base, she licked it up greedily. Simon gripped the arms of his chair tightly and his legs trembled. He could only moan and cry out in response - a jumble of the words “Betty” and “please” repeatedly. It was music to her ears.

Betty’s hands snaked up to hold his hips in place and she took his whole length inside her mouth. She slowly bobbed her head up and down his erection and his face contorted in pleasure. He tangled his fingers into her red hair and massaged the back of her head. This sent shivers through Betty’s body, and she moaned into him. The two of them enjoyed this rhythm for a little while, but Simon inevitably grew more restless.

Betty noticed this, and took him as deep as she could manage one last time, then pulled her lips away with a pop. Simon whimpered at the sudden absence of her mouth. She tugged on his hips to motion him to join her on the floor. He knelt down beside her and Betty swiftly removed her underwear. She pushed gently on his chest and he lied down on the carpet. She crawled on top of him and hovered her hips above his, then pinned his arms above his head.

Simon squirmed beneath her. “Princess, aah, I -ngh - I need you to-”

Before he could finish speaking, she kissed him on the lips, tightened her grip on his wrists, and plunged herself onto him all at once. Simon moaned deeply into the kiss. The feeling of her wet pussy squeezing his dick was ecstasy. She began riding him slowly. Betty pushed her tongue into his mouth with no resistance, and the two made out as Betty gradually quickened her pace.

Just as Simon began to feel close to orgasm, Betty broke the kiss, then brushed her lips against his ear. “Simon...do you have any idea how badly I’ve missed you?” she growled. 

He heard her, but couldn’t form words of his own. He was fully engrossed by the sensations Betty was causing. The sound of her voice, the delightful, tingling sensation of her hands pressing down on his wrists, and the rhythmic clapping of her ass against his waist was driving him crazy. He couldn’t hold it in any more

“B-Betty I’m, ngh...I can’t. Betty! I’m s-sorry! Aah!!” he squeaked. His desperate cries filled the room and Betty could feel his dick twitching inside of her, filling her insides with thick jets of cum. She gradually slowed her pace and released her grip on his wrists. Using his newly freed hands, Simon reached up to hold her by the hips and guide the speed of her rocking as he rode out his orgasm.

This was the sight that Betty had been longing to see. The man she loved, respected, and admired so much was now completely limp beneath her. He was panting heavily and she ran her fingers lovingly through his hair, which had become dampened with sweat.

Simon caught his breath and his mind slowly came back into focus. He looked up at his wife, who was smirking above him. He tilted his head to the right, then the left, looking around him. He was on the floor in his study. Things still felt somewhat hazy to him. His body felt light and tingly.

“I’m not done with you yet, Dr. Petrikov~” She teased.

That’s right. He was supposed to be working. She had returned home from her outing, gave him the coffee, and then…

“Betty, sweetheart. Did you put something in my coffee?”

She only giggled in response. Simon pushed himself to sit upright. Betty was now resting snugly in his lap, his dick still inside of her. The change in angle caused some cum to leak out onto Simon’s thighs. He told himself he should be angry with her for using the potion on him, but truthfully, it turned him on.

“Princess, I need you to wait here for just a moment.”

He guided her hips upwards and Betty slid off of him, more cum leaking out and onto his legs. She knelt on the carpet, and he left the study. He quickly returned, potion in hand.

“Betty, you used this in my coffee, didn’t you?”

“Mayybe~” she smiled, slightly bashful, slightly proud.

“Tell me the truth, darling.” he knelt down in front of her and unscrewed the cap. She remained silent and avoided his eyes - this confirmed it to him. “Betty, you naughty girl.” He muttered as he prepared the dropper. “Open your mouth for me.”

She knew what he was about to do, which excited her greatly. Betty opened her mouth and leaned in, and Simon gently held onto the bottom of her chin. He squeezed out three large droplets onto her tongue, and each one tingled pleasantly.

He screwed the cap back on and set the potion aside. He had bought it for her, after all. And now, all he wanted was to make her feel amazing. Simon gently rubbed the side of her cheek. She smiled and leaned her face into his touch. 

“Mmm, what a good princess you are~” he praised.

Simon’s shift in demeanor was so exciting. She seldom saw this side of him, and couldn’t get enough of it. Was he still under the influence of the potion? Or perhaps it was only her antics that had brought this out?

Still kneeling, Betty turned her back to Simon and pointed between her shoulder blades, signalling for him to remove her bra. Simon shifted his weight from his knees to his bottom and sat down behind her. He took her by the waist and pulled her backwards into his lap. Then he unclasped the bra and tossed it aside, freeing her breasts. Both Simon and Betty were now fully naked. 

Next, he took her hair and moved it to one side, exposing her neck. He nibbled and kissed upwards, starting from her shoulder all the way to her jawline, then back down again. Meanwhile, his hands squeezed softly at her chest and he continued this way for a few minutes, sometimes stopping to whisper praises into her ear.

“What a beautiful goddess you are.”

“I’m so lucky to have you all to myself.”

“You’re so dirty, princess~”

Gradually, Betty’s soft moans became louder. Her growing wetness was leaking into his lap. She could feel Simon's dick becoming erect again - it pushed up against her ass cheek.

“Stand up for me.” He whispered into her ear. She immediately obliged, and Simon did the same. Still facing away from him, Betty was beginning to feel the effects of the potion. Now, her mind had become hazy, and the sight of Simon’s desk in front of her was blurred slightly. Simon wrapped one arm around her waist and pulled inwards, and used the other to push her front half downwards, bending her over his desk. She pushed aside his papers and books, some of which fell onto the floor. Neither of them cared about that right now. 

“Betty…” Simon groaned, enamored with the sight in front of him. Her pussy was dripping and swollen, and her legs trembled slightly in anticipation. He took his shaft in his hand and pushed the tip against her entrance. Betty whimpered as he stroked himself, which caused the tip to rub just along the lips of her pussy.

“Simon please!”

“Oh princess, we both know that you like it when I tease you a bit~” he reached forward and snaked a hand up the nape of her neck and grabbed her hair, gently tugging her head upwards. She let out a series of pathetic cries as he continued to tease her.

After enjoying this for a little while, he finally pushed himself fully inside of her. Relieved, Betty gripped the edge of the desk hard and raised her ass upwards. 

“Thhank you!” She slurred.

Simon didn't want to hold back any longer. He fucked her fast and hard and she felt a jolt of pleasure with each thrust. She moaned his name over and over, and Simon felt another building pressure inside of him. 

“Simon, please! Give it to me again!”

Her pleading sent him over the edge, and Simon came in her a second time. His mind became even more clear after the second orgasm as the effects of the potion finally dissipated completely.

Betty was a mess - bent over his desk, bucking her hips into nothing as fresh cum dribbled down her thighs. Simon sighed as he took it all in. His study was now a mess too. “Betty, what have we done…” he mumbled, smiling faintly. She barely processed what he said.

“Ngh…Simon? Simon! Aah!”

He reached for her shoulders and pulled her upright, then turned her to face him. Her face was pink, eyes half-lidded and glazed over. Just as Simon had been before. He kissed her, slowly gliding his tongue along hers as he rubbed her ass. She was putty in his hands. 

Simon broke the kiss. “Let’s go to the bedroom.”

He held her hand and led her down the hallway, then motioned for her to lay on the bed.

Betty laid down on top of their sheets and shuddered in anticipation. 

“Simon, please...” she trailed off.

Simon crawled on top of his wife, resting on his forearms on either side of her face. He leaned close to her and she wrapped her arms around his back. 

“I’m going to take care of you, princess. Don’t you worry.” he cooed. 

He ran a hand sensually along her neck, then over her breasts. He rubbed his fingers over her nipples, evoking a squeal. His hand then continued down her stomach, and finally towards the entrance to her pussy. He swirled his finger around her clit, then slipped it inside of her. 

“I’ve been neglecting you, you poor thing. I’m going to make this up to you.”

He inserted another finger and curled them upwards into her, which made her moan his name and squirm wildly. He pressed his chest into hers, creating some pressure to slow her movements.

“Oh, princess, that’s right, take it for me - yes, good girl~”

His voice was so sexy, and Betty was desperate for more intensity. However, all she could manage to do was whimper and struggle beneath him.

“Don’t you know I missed you too?” he whispered. Then, without pulling his fingers out, Simon moved downwards, his face now at her pussy. Betty spread her legs apart more, inviting him in.

He continued to finger her with one hand and held down one of her legs with the other. He kissed her inner thighs, alternating between them and gradually moving closer to her center. Each kiss sent a shock through Betty’s body and she gripped the bed sheets tightly. Her legs were covered in goosebumps. 

After inching his way across her thighs, Simon finally took Betty’s clit into his mouth and slowly massaged it with his tongue. This combined with the fingering sent Betty to the moon. She reached down to tug at his soft hair, gripping his scalp and pulling his head inwards. He knew she needed more, and so he sped up the pace of his mouth and plunged his fingers as deep as they could go, curling them faster and faster.

“S-Simon! Please, Simon! Aah!”

Her whole body trembled and she bucked her hips upward. This was a sign that Simon was all too familiar with. Betty was close. He slipped his fingers out and quickly replaced it with his tongue. He now pinned down both quivering legs as he devoured her completely. He felt her muscles flex under his grip as she let out one final cry. She was climaxing. Her muscles gradually relaxed and her moans became less frantic. He continued to pleasure her with his mouth as she rode the high of her orgasm. Once she was finished, Betty went limp and laid still, panting.

Simon pulled his face away from her pussy and gave her kisses all over her thighs and stomach. Then, he crawled up and laid beside her on his back. Betty cuddled up to him in a koala-bear position and closed her eyes, smiling. He twisted to face her, then enveloped her in a hug, his chin resting on top of her head. Both of them were clear-headed now. He gently rubbed her back for a while.

“Simon, I love you so, so much.” she said softly, leaving a peck on his chest.

Now he was smiling. He would worry about his work later. In this moment, all he wanted was to bask in the presence of his Betty, his princess, the love of his life. He kissed the top of her head.

“I love you too, Betty.”

[kny-agere]

Rem Cycle

★彡☆彡★彡☆彡★彡☆彡

Mitsuri finds herself at the water estate often. It stands just on the edge of her mission territory, and is often more convenient to stay there as opposed to making the trek back to her own home.

The water estate is a lonely place. It’s not in disrepair, or even dusty, but most of it’s rooms are completely barren. She never even hears a mouse creeping over the tatami. Mitsuri doesn’t snoop, but all the rooms she comes across when looking for an extra futon appear exactly the same. They’re bland square boxes with tan walls. Through all her time there she has only found two places that deviate from this standard. One was a simple office, accompanied by a desk, mostly empty bookshelf, and a dark painting. The second was Tomioka’s room, which was still bland, but also cute in a way. With just a look around she can see his futon folded in the corner, a much more crowded bookshelf, and a small collection of carved wooden animals.

That’s all she spots, before sliding the door closed. Mitsuri knows to not intrude too much. Once she finds a room she deems comfortable emough the woman mostly sticks to that space and the kitchen.

—-

When Tomioka finally makes an appearance he looks more out of place in his home than Kanroji does. He stumbles loudly through the halls, unaware of her presence. Before she can manage to reveal her place in his home the man is tucked inside his room. It can wait until tomorrow.

—-

Mitsuri takes a little extra time in the morning. She’s sure her movement around the house is loud enough to announce her presence, but Giyuu doesn’t leave his room. Just because she’s eager to talk and bond doesn’t mean she’ll make herself an annoyance.

Even though there’s no mission waiting for her, Kanroji decides to leave anyways. She can make it to her own home by early afternoon.

Still hoping to get Giyuu to open up, she does leave a note.

Your home was wonderful! I hope you didn’t mind me staying for the night, it’s happened a few times in the past as well. Next time I’ll be sure to leave a proper thank you!

—-

The love pillars next visit is much sooner than anticipated. Though Giyuu’s home has become somewhat familiar she only gets to visit once every few weeks, just under every two months. It’s not an exact formula, and sometimes Mitsuri has stayed for a few stretch of days, but there are other places for her to stay as well if needed. She can’t bear to be far away from her family for too long either.

Ubuyashiki-sama has sent her on many missions that put her right alongside Tomioka’s territory. Rengoku border’s the other side of her area, but she finds herself near her former mentor’s home much less often. Though they do get more joint missions. As close as she is to Giyuu (in proximity, not in the friendship sort of sense), he is almost never paired up with anyone.

But none of that is really important right now because there’s quite a large gash on the bottom of her foot. The bleeding has stopped, but she’s stuck trembling on one leg like a flamingo. At first she tries to put only slight pressure on it. With each step it feels like her leg is igniting.

After a small amount of crying and whimpering she makes her way towards the water estate. Her journey is accomplished by limping, hopping, and an embarrassing amount of crawling.

As she scoots towards the front door the woman nearly cries at the sight of light shining through one of the windows. It’s a strange combination of tears of joy and sadness. Embarrassment at being seen in such a sorry state overtakes her quickly. On the other hand Tomioka will be able to show her the medical supplies.

Pulling herself back onto her good foot Mitsuri knocks lightly.

It takes a bit of time, enough for her to begin to worry, but eventually the sound of shuffling feet starts to build.

The door creeps open slowly before his head peeks out from around the frame. Giyuu has never been there to greet her before, and there’s a moment where neither speak.

Kanroji is the first to break the stalemate.

“Tomioka-san, I’m surprised to see you home! I cut my foot and couldn’t make it very far, so I headed here. I hope that’s all right. You’ve never complained in the past but-“

She keeps rambling, even as Giyuu props the door completely open. Limping inside she stumbles to the couch while the man seemingly disappears. Once Kanroji realizes he’s gone she comes to an awkward halt in her talking.

The younger hashira is unsure if she should just be waiting. Tomioka didn’t specify exactly what he was running off to do. Maybe he simply went back to bed.

As if on cue he entered the room again, small box in hand. He regarded her carefully. Walking slowly Giyuu resembled a cat, wide eyes and cautious movements. It seems uncharacteristic, but Mitsuri hasn’t seen the man within his actual home before. Maybe he just doesn’t appreciate her intrusion.

“Here.” His voice is as soft as snow. There’s a bit more emotion lying underneath his tone than there usually is, even with just the simple word. The medical kit is sat next to her. Giyuu doesn’t quite retreat, instead choosing to hover awkwardly in the doorway.

Tears already are starting to form in her eyes. “Oh thank you! I don’t know what I would do if I had to wait any longer.” Struggling to wipe off her face, which has a bit of snot and tears covering it now alongside the dirt and blood, she moves quickly to pull off her signature socks.

Propping her leg up she leans forward to give the wound a proper look.

It’s not a particularly bad cut, only an inch or two long, but deep enough that the blood is still sticky. Since the fabric is already destroyed Kanroji uses the remnants of green fabric to scrub away some of the blood and dirt lingering on her foot. Only then does she moves to grab the rubbing alcohol and soft cloths.

While she works Giyuu disappears at some point. Mitsuri is more focused on bandaging the cut. It’s probably fine without stitches, but a few days of rest will be needed. Once it’s fully bandaged she tests her weight. There’s no sharp pain, rather a dull throbbing that increases when her foot flexes. For now she can deal with the pain.

Looking around the woman is surprised to find she’s alone now. There’s no sign of where Tomioka could’ve ran off too. Leaving the med kit on the table she wanders through the halls back to her usual room.

A few doors down a light peeks out from a crack in the wood. It’s a thin stream. Within the few seconds of staring the light clicks off.

Shaking her head she tries not to think about bothering Giyuu, instead pushing into her own room.

The futon she usually claims is already spread out on the floor. Beside it are a pair of standard pajamas, similar to the ones Shinobu keeps at her estate. Sticking her head back out she looks towards Tomioka’s door again. She swears a faint shadow moves behind the shoji. It’s not as if it’s a mystery either way. Unless the man has servants hidden away somewhere he’s the only one who could’ve done it.

She has to stop herself from running down the hallway. Knowing he’ll probably find a way to hide in the morning the woman wants to squeeze in a proper “thank you” when she can. Another note wouldn’t be good enough. Tomioka might appreciate sweets or something similar. She knows his cabinets are fairly empty.

Generating more ideas she slowly drives herself back towards the bed. The pajamas are ill-fitting but soft enough to make up for it. Crawling into the futon too she notices how fresh it feels too. The sheets have a indecipherable something that makes it clear they were washed recently. A few stains, some from Mitsuri herself and some mysteriously there, have disappeared.

It’s hard to go to sleep with how wide her smile is. Excitement bubbles up in her stomach and buzzes beneath her skin. She always knew Giyuu was a nice boy. He was quiet in a shy and awkward kind of way, not the lethal silence from someone like Iguro (not that she minded his personality either). It was similar to her own younger brother, who was the complete opposite of his elder sister. Rengoku agreed, and perhaps the other hashira simply lacked the knowledge of what a younger sibling was like to notice the softness in his movements.

She falls asleep picturing Giyuu carefully setting out the futon.

—-

As the man and her collide more, Mitsuri notices all her little habits. They’re most obvious when he’s inside his own home. At first she thinks Giyuu just likes to hide away from her, and the thought might still be true, but more often he just sleeps in. On the rare occasion she’s there for more than a single night he doesn’t drag himself into the kitchen until the early afternoon. He stumbles around blindly until something resembling food sits in front of him.

Outside of his house she gets a better peek at him as well. They’re not paired up for missions often. Tomioka has only served with her once, which was months before she had built a proper interest in him. But they still cross paths often enough for Mitsuri to pry into him.

He always sets up her futon. What she thought was a kind one-off gesture turns out to be standard practice for Giyuu. He always manages to do it when she isn’t looking. When she thanks him all Giyuu does is turn away. She swears she can see his cheeks grow pink and a smile right before he manages to tug his lips back down.

Afterwards when he goes to slip into his sheets Tomioka curls up around himself. The man always angles himself towards the wall and away from her. She’s trying to figure out how inappropriate it would be for her to inquire if anyone else notices his sleeping habits. Mitsuri hasn’t figured out exactly what the answer is, but it’s surely too inappropriate to ever speak aloud.

Moving onto things that aren’t quite as weird but still not entirely appropriate she watches his smaller habits. Tomioka tugs at the edges of his uniform. There’s divots where his fingers sink into the white edge. His pajamas are even worse, ragged things that have been stretched over time. A few times she catches him chewing onto the edges or even a finger in his mouth. It’s only when Giyuu’s sat on the engawa for too long or buried in his bedsheets before it’s actually late enough to begin thinking of sleep. If her footsteps are too loud he’ll straighten his back and keep his hands cradled in his lap.

In her little game of spy she doesn’t quite put together what any of this means, if it means anything. Everyone has odd little quirks. Still it tugs at the back of her mind like a stray thread.

It doesn’t come together until the behavior is echoed at her own home. Her extended family, aunts and uncles and third cousins twice removed, are around just as often as her actual mother and father. If Mitsuri had elected to upsize into a new estate (instead of just adapting her parents house as the core of her life) she’s sure they would’ve moved in. The woman enjoys the company and doesn’t mind the noise. It’s a gift too, when she’s able to experience the joy of little feet filling up the rooms. Her own parents are long done with children, the woman’s youngest siblings already coming upon their teen years. With the extra guests she gets to spend time looking after toddlers milling about.

They look at her with snot-covered faces, eyes barred behind the beautiful long lashes that all children possess. Shy groups mumble behind their fingers. Anytime the group gathers for dinner Kanroji spends most of her time wiping stray rice from their cheeks.

Tomioka doesn’t imitate the behavior constantly. While fighting demons or in his general life he acts cool and collected. Even with all the added oddities he’s not necessarily uncool… but more-so cute! It makes her want to sit and clean stray rice off his cheek as well.

—-

The act of indulging is her fantasies is a hard one. Tomioka is not only soft, but solitary. If she tried to dote on him in any capacity the man would either go back to ignoring her presence or respond a more scathing reaction she can’t even imagine.

Next time they stumble across each other is at Mitsuri’s own home. After a series of rather grueling missions the woman had been allowed some reprieve. It was late enough that everyone in the home was asleep. Mitsuri had hardly heard his knocking, only opening her eyes because she had been trained to stir at any noise.

Nimbly hopping over her sister, who elected to still share a room with Kanroji, she made her way to the door. Slayers were allowed, even welcomed, in the home, but few actually appeared. Most juvenile hunters were too terrified of the title of “hashira” no matter the actual kindness of the woman. Her fellow pillars could appear on occasion (Rengoku visited often, bringing along his brother several times), but were not often brought close enough to her territory to justify spending the night.

Finding Tomioka standing at her doorstep was not something she had expected. Someone like Sanemi (who had some amount of distate for Mitsuri) or Iguro (who lost all cognitive thought after they spent more than an hour together) would’ve astounded her less.

The man didn’t appear to be particularly hurt either, just tired. Trying to be aware of the late hour Kanroji struggled to keep her voice down as she bounced around her home.

Letting him settle down on the couch she rushed to prepare a room for him. Balancing speed and silence was a hard task especially when Mitsuri wasn’t particularly good at either. Thankfully all of her family are heavy sleepers, the habit not long broken like Kanroji’s.

When she enters the living room once more, Giyuu is half asleep on the couch. His head hangs uncomfortably, chin pressed to his neck. A thumb is caught between his lips. Knees are pulled tight to his chest.

Watching him for a moment she waits for him to awake on his own. She moves forward and then dances back in a mock waltz. He’d probably find the position compromising.

Repeating her entrance she calls his name gently beforehand. “Tomioka-san!” It’s still a whisper. Counting to three in her head she rounds the corner.

Giyuu is still half asleep when she sees him again. Instead of his mouth the man’s fingers press into his neck. Rolling it backwards a few gentle clicks sound off. “Sorry.”

“Oh don’t apologize! You should’ve sent your crow ahead and I would’ve prepared something sooner.”

The older hashira’s voice is still filled with sleep and something a little smaller. “Kanzaburo is old. He’s resting… somewhere.”

“I’ll send mine then! Or oh wait… that’s not- Anyways! I hope everything is satisfactory.”

“Thanks.” He’s nearly falling asleep standing up.

With a smile she watches him slip into the room.

—-

Tomioka seems overwhelmed with all of the people around. Mitsuri gave her siblings (and parents) careful instructions to leave the man alone while he slept well into the afternoon, but once he’s awake it’s a completely different story.

Her family is kind that leans into overbearing. Giyuu seems wary at best. He can only answer their excited questions with stilted mumbles. It drives him to cling to Mitsuri, looking to her each time someone offers him yet another treat or prying question.

“I love meeting Kanroji’s work friends,” her mother sighs. “You’re all so strong and sweet!”

His cheeks are light pink now, maybe more exhaustion than embarrassment. “…Thanks.” That’s been his response to almost everything her family has pushed onto him. It’s not too long after lunch and they’ve already layered a few light snacks onto the table and into his mouth. He’s been clever, passing half the stuff onto Mitsuri who consumes it with glee.

“Oh you should try these ones though! They have cherry jelly inside.” She passes all the best things back to him (mostly chocolate). Around the corner of his lips there’s little crumbs that he hasn’t bothered to wipe off yet.

“It’s good.”

“You have half the pan on your cheeks!” Without thinking she plucks a handkerchief from her pocket and rubs it against his cheeks. Displays like this are common amongst her family, or even with friends. Rengoku is as messy as Giyuu with the speed he eats at.

She doesn’t think anything of it until his cheeks burn and the man jerks away from her. “I’m not a child.” He spits out the words. It’s harsh enough to make the table grow too quiet until someone can usher in another conversation topic.

“Sorry. I just meant that-“

“It’s fine!” Mitsuri clings to his arm. She’s glad when he doesn’t brush her off. “I shouldn’t have been so presumptuous.”

He takes the handkerchief and wipes the corner of his mouth. “Do you want it back?”

“No that’s alright.”

Silence between them dips until Mitsuri picks up the conversation with her brother and they dissolve back into much of the same as before. Maybe Giyuu holds onto her a little tighter afterwards.

—-

By dinner Tomioka’s so worn out that he’s almost buried against Kanroji’s side. Any question asked are answered with a small nod of his head, regardless of whether they can be responded too that way.

The man mostly picks at the food too, which makes sense considering he’s been fed consistently even between meals. Mitsuri is happy to pick up whatever he leaves on his plate (which is most of the meal). He’s slumped over in his chair and already half asleep.

The table moves around him without care. Senjuro had befallen much of the same behavior during his visit. Shinobu had balked at their attention and excitement. Guests who weren’t used to the bustle of the home often faltered at a day of loud words and mountains of food.

“Tomioka-kun, we’re done with dinner if you’d like to go.” She mumbles it against his ear and doesn’t dare spoil the fact that there’s technically a fresh pie cooling on the countertop.

Again her family doesn’t mind when she stands up and guides Tomioka back to the guest room. He leans his head against her shoulder. Practically drunk on overstimulation the man is falling asleep as they walk.

“Tomioka-kun, you still need to get changed.” She pushes his head up until it stays there. He blinks a few times until his eyes stay open.

“I probably made a bad impression, sorry.” In the quiet of the guest room he seems more alert. “I’m not good with… people.”

“Oh I don’t think anyone really minded. You weren’t being rude or anything even! Quiet isn’t a crime.”

The man’s surprised by the reassurance. “Well your family was nice. And the cooking was good too, what I ate I mean.”

Mitsuri laughs even though she doesn’t know if it’s really supposed to be a joke. Tomioka isn’t very good at social things like that.

She pats his arm where it still wraps around her own. “I’ll tell them. You have a nice night.”

“I have to leave early tomorrow. Thank you for the room.”

Giyuu is suffocated for a moment with her hug. “Ah you never tell me things like that! Now I can give you a proper goodbye.” She’s not shy about pressing against him. Holding him as close as possible for a few minutes she swears the man hugs back. His grip isn’t quite as bone-crushing, but hands gently push into her back.

“Send your crow next time and he can rest here too! We have some roosts outside. And then I can plan something fun for you!”

He looks tired at the thought of it. That doesn’t stop him from nodding with a defeated kind of look. “Goodnight Mitsuri-san.”

“Right, I’ll let you go.”

—-

Whether he feels more comfortable around Mitsuri, or simply can’t find the energy to care, Giyuu slips more around her. He lets her clean his cheeks the next time they meet and doesn’t complain how much she coddles him. She dotes on him until he’s asleep on the couch with a thumb in his mouth. He probably thinks she can’t see him from the kitchen where she’s cleaning off the table.

After Giyuu had spent the night at her house Kanroji insisted on getting him to spend proper time together. It mostly consisted of dining and fighting over who would pay.

But the next time she stumbled into his home with light injuries and exhaustion weighing on her shoulders he had welcomed her to cabinets with real food in them.

Tomioka was easier to talk to when it was just the two of them. She pried small smiles out of him every few questions. At one point he let out a wheezing little laugh.

She convinces him to rest after dinner. The polite boy insists on helping her, but once she convinces him to lie on the couch he curls up there.

Once she puts on the dishes away Kanroji creeps into the living room. Every time they do this dance Giyuu will snap upwards and the end and excuse himself. It’s a little sneaky to try to lull him into a false sense of security but she knows otherwise he’d run away again. This isn’t a matter of him actuality wanting to push Mitsuri away. She’s a love expert, which means she’s excellent at reading all types of body language. This is because he’s embarrassed, prideful even.

But everything is going according to plan. When she peeks over the couch Tomioka is at least mostly asleep. He’s draped over the cushions. This time a whole handful of fingers are shoved into his mouth. His haori acts as an impromptu blanket.

Settling her weight on the couch she stills for a brief moment. It’s a game of red light green light. Every time she inches closer Kanroji is worried he’ll startle and never talk to her again.

Once she’s dragged half his body into her lap Mitsuri’s decided that enough is enough. Giyuu hasn’t said anything and if decides to run now she can chase him down.

She cradles his head against her chest. Giyuu’s eyes have lightly shut, but the way his eyelids twitch occasionally suggest that he isn’t actually asleep. That doesn’t stop Mitsuri from gently tracing his features. Under the guise of sleep he allows her to do so. When her knuckles skim over his cheekbones he twitches slightly in that direction. Soft pink lips part barely.

It takes everything in her to not squeal and pull him even closer. With his delicate state it would surely scare him off. The smile on her face is still rather wide though.

Once she’s regained some of her composure she goes back to running fingers over his face and through his hair. His breathing does slowly even out, diving into a real slumber. Kanroji is still careful with her hold, but slowly shifts to lean back slightly more. It’s more comfortable, even if his face is slightly less visible.

Feeling his chest rising under her fingertips makes her own breathing fall into a similar slow pattern. The weight of Tomioka on her lap is comforting. It reminds the woman of one of her younger siblings. Out of the handful one will always crawl into her hold and promptly settle there. The only difference now is the amount of weight, which is mostly negligible in the case of her strange strength. It gives her a chance to bond with the mostly estranged hashira too, even if the scenario is rather odd.

She isn’t sure what to do now. Tomioka would probably be scared away if she moved around too much.

Finally the numbing in her legs prompts her to shift ever so slightly. With slow and deliberate movements she rises. Giyuu stays content for now, simply leaning into her more. With her blessing of strength it’s no trouble to move around with the man in her arms. The only struggle is when she makes it to his door, and has to slide it open with her foot. If Mitsuri wasn’t so focused than she surely would’ve tripped over herself. There’s even a little wobble to her standing as she manages to open the door to Tomioka’s room. How he hasn’t woken up yet is a question with no clear answer. Though the light shading under his eyes does suggest a lack of sleep, that’s not entirely unusual for someone in their line of work.

She tries not to snoop too much, but being inside Tomioka’s room for the first times leaves her a little breathless. It’s strangely personable. Given the emptiness of the rest of the house she expected his room to look like it belonged to someone else.

Instead there’s a few stones of the shelf, or small wards possibly. The dried herbs and ribbons seem arranged to purposefully to be random.

His bed is a more western one, mattress sitting on top of a simple bed frame. Atop it lies a thousand different pillows in an array of colors and sizes. The one at the very front of the stack is a fuzzy deep mauve pillow.

It’s ridiculous to think Giyuu kept himself in a prison of sorts with a hard bed and single sheet, but that image is less surprising than the reality.

Tucked beside one of the pillows, almost hidden, is an old plush bear. The fur on it is so worn it’s almost gone completely. Pale brown has faded to a peachy gray.

It takes a few moments to figure out how to set him down. Luckily Tomioka seems completely knocked out, even leaning into her hold. Moving him around she manages to balance the man on her hip. It’s an odd hold. When she held some of her younger siblings this way the rested their heads on her collarbones or shoulder. Tomioka, a grown man, is a bit of a different situation. His feet are only inches from the floor, head hanging in the air. It doesn’t look too comfortable which is why she’s quick to peel back the covers.

Transitioning him into the bed is easy. The plush mattress only serves to drag him deeper into sleep. The man’s eyes twitch for a second before smoothing out. He curls into himself.

Finding a reason to stay she lifts his arm and tucks the old bear into his hold. Immediately Giyuu curves inwards even more, tucking the plush under himself.

Keeping her eyes on him Kanroji creeps back out of the room. She hadn’t bothered to turn the lights on, so once she shuts the door the man should be cloaked in darkness.

Despite the quickly darkening sky its not ridiculously late. Mitsuri’s gotten so used to carving out her own space in Giyuu’s home that she’s considering returning home for once. The train could get her there before her parents are even asleep.

Tomioka could probably use the break. She doesn’t know if he’s the kind to treat the next day like normal. Though Mitsuri supposes that this isn’t a particularly common scenario. He can have the reprieve, a bit of a gift.

—-

Unexpectedly Giyuu does act (mostly) the same. He stares at her near constantly when Mitsuri turns her back, but nothing else is too noticeable.

Several other times she can convince him to indulge again. That really just means approaching the boy while he pretends to be asleep. Once she tries to pull him towards her when he’s fully awake and he almost punches her with how hard he’s squirming.

Soft reassurances are a mandatory. When she holds his head and sits him on her lap little murmurs are whispered into his ear. When he’s a baby he needs baby steps. Kanroji wants to run into everything headfirst. This yeild sign is a bit of an adjustment. But just like how she coaxed him into a few nights of cuddles she knows how to push him without making him uncomfortable, hopefully.

—-

Blowing lightly on Giyuu’s face Kanroji watches his baby blue eyes reveal themselves. His pupils are wide as they stare up at her. It’s similar to a baby deer the way his eyes dart around.

“I have a surprise for you Giyuu-kun.” She hopes in his sleepy haze the man doesn’t notice the slight tremble in her voice. Her grip is maybe too tight too. They’ve done this a handful of times now, but pushing whatever they have too far could chase him away. Mitsuri tries not to think about that as she reaches for the bottle squished against her side.

Her thumb nudges against his lips and they part slightly. Tomioka is still looking up at her with unfocused eyes. When he glances down and the bottle comes into view his entire body jolts. Kanroji is glad for her tight grip because it keeps him in her lap.

Keeping the cup at arms length, as if it’s something dangerous, she takes a moment to stop his squirming. “Calm down baby it’s ok. I got this just for you.” Just like always her sweet tone and soft nicknames urge him to relax. His eyes remain wide, but Giyuu makes no movements to escape her again.

Cradling the back of his head she brings the bottle upwards again. He’s watching with a careful look as she brings the rubber end to his mouth. Keeping his lips open they wrap around the bottle.

The inside of Mitsuri’s stomach does happy little flips as he slowly starts to drink the milk inside. With both hands occupied the woman can’t caress his face, instead bringing her head down to plant a kiss on his forehead. Long eyelashes tickle her cheek as Giyuu tries to look up.

Keeping herself wrapped around him Kanroji picks her brain for a song to murmur. Music is common in her home and it’s easy to draw something out. Her voice isn’t stage-worthy, but not too shabby. It works to relax the woman herself too. The familiarity brings comfort within the strange situation.

Tomioka lets his eyes slipped closed again. Rhythmically sucking the bottle a small river of milk leaks out the corner of his mouth. With no cloth she uses her rough sleeves to wipe off the wetness.

Once the bottle is halfway done Mitsuri takes hold of it. Giyuu’s hold has begun to consistently falter— until he gave up completely —lettling the cup settle on his chest. She keeps prompting him to finish the drink. The man gets about 3/4ths of it down when he gives up completely.

The scene ends as it always does. Giyuu drifts off in Kanroji’s hold as she rocks him gently. She follows the familiar path to his room, stopping briefly to dump the bottle into the sink. The only thing that helps her clumsiness is the tried and true routine. She had almost dropped him once a few weeks back, and moved far more carefully ever since.

It’s a little easier to go through the steps when they’re both not pretending to know what this really is. Every few steps Giyuu’s breath hitches. Mitsuri doesn’t still, just holds him tighter (one day she’ll suffocate him that way). She wonders if he’d be as clingy if he was fully awake. Maybe that’ll be her next goal.

Kanroji doesn’t have to keep herself quite as still. It’s easy to lie her weight on the bed when he rolls out from her arms. He curls up looser now, not hiding from her quite as much.

When she pulls back his hands remain tied up in her sleeves. Peeling them off only makes him cling to her fingers instead. It’s a game of dragging him off as he stays sunken into her.

“Giyuu.” She lets the air brush against his cheek as his name comes out. “Baby you’re holding on too tight.”

His eye barely opens. In a bit of a challenge he keeps staring at her while his grip only tightens.

“C’mon use your words sweet boy. Tell me what you want.”

At first his words are only a breath of air. He has to try a few times to get the actual words out. “Can you stay?”

She’s happy to climb into the bed and nuzzle his cheek. “Can you say the magic word? Just because you’re my favorite and I love to hear it.”

He has to close his eyes to say it but she doesn’t mind. “Please mama?”

“There you go! You’re so good.” She further rewards him with a kiss on the cheek and pulling him back into her arms. The moniker is new too, a precious gift she’ll have to peel out of him again. She’s not wearing proper pajamas but her informal kimono is comfortable enough to sleep in.

Tomioka’s futon is only big enough for the both of them if she pulls him tight into her lap. The man curls against her body, head tucked underneath her shoulder. His bear is stuck between their chests.

He doesn’t try to hide his want now. Giyuu almost has to be pushed back with how tight he clings to her.

Tomorrow he’ll hopefully stay like this even when he can’t hide behind the excuse of being half asleep. She’ll see how he feels in the morning and try to worm a proper conversation out of him. Though something like that might be another week or two away. It doesn’t matter, she doesn’t mind waiting.

[txtscenarios]

gamer hueningkai /

rating: explicit

an: gender neutral reader to the best of my ability as usual, blowjobs, kai’s a little rough but it’s consensual 

kai doesn’t like to call himself a gamer

you think this is particularly funny because when he’s not doing idol things, school work, or spending time with you, he’s, well, gaming

he might not be a gamer in the traditional sense; he doesn’t stream on twitch, and shooters just aren’t really his thing

but when he’s really into something, whether it be a mobile game that he can play on the go, or a story-driven rpg that takes up way too much space on the boys’ shared playstation 5, he’s so fucking cute it’s almost unbearable

he’s not competitive at all, which just makes it better. it means that he never ends a session in a rage, and hardly ever lets a loss impact his mood

he’s the perfect little gamer boyfriend with all of the perks– a rainbow keyboard, headphones shaped like cat ears, a desk just tall enough for you to fit under– and none of the complications

so, as much as you like actually doing activities with him, you don’t mind sitting across the room on his bed, phone in hand, while he clicks away on his keyboard, one ear peeking out of his headphones just incase you call for him

if you ever want him to stop playing, he will. the game will be shut down in seconds, and he’ll swivel around in his chair, attention fully focused on you

you never ask him to stop, though. not when the alternative is much more entertaining

he doesn’t even flinch when you walk over to him, slow, before dropping to your knees by his side. he merely scoots the chair back a bit to make room for you, and you take the opportunity to crawl under his desk

he’s tall, legs always sort of in the way, but you’ve learned to work around them by now. and this is where he’s good also, where he’s the best boyfriend you could ever ask for; he never expects anything from you

if you yearn to be close, to merely sit with your chin on his knee as he plays his game, then he’s fine with that. he’ll sneak a hand down every now and then to sweep long fingers through your hair, or boop your nose with his thumb

the fact that he’s just so content to be near you however you’ll let him is so– you’ve never had anything like it before. never had someone like him. you find that his kindness makes you more eager to please him

when he’s at the dorm, he’s either wearing sweats or boxers. both are easy access, and you find you don’t prefer one over the other. the boxers are nice because of the space his cock takes up inside of them when he’s totally hard, but the sweatpants are just as mouthwatering, especially when he’s so turned on he begins leaking through them

if you want to get him hard quick, it’s easy enough to do so. mouthing along the fabric just over his clothed cock, or sweeping your thumb along the head has him squirming beneath your touch in no time. he won’t ask; never does, but he doesn’t need to

when he’s hard just from gentle, lingering swipes of your fingers, or hot breaths against his cock, you carefully tug him out of his clothes, fabric scrunching up beneath his length

you always start with your hand, swiping your tongue along your palm to slick it up. the way you twist your wrist on each upstroke has him breathing harder, abdomen flexing, thighs twitching

he is quiet at the start, but it never lasts long. neither does his focus

the moment you brace up, up on your knees, one hand pressed against his thigh for balance as you slowly take his cock between your lips, tongue dipping into the slit to gather precome, to taste. 

he sighs prettily. you hear the occasional click of his keyboard as he attempts to multitask, but then you wrap your hand around the base of his length and slide down as far as your throat allows, and he grunts, both hands in your hair in an instant

they just rest there, at the top of your head, strands sliding through his long fingers. he doesn’t pull; doesn’t push you further than you’re ready to go, or demand anything of you

but when you reach up, tapping his knuckles twice, a silent, “go ahead, i want you to,” he’s quick to appease

his right hand tightens in your hair, hard enough that your scalp stings, while his left gently cups your jaw. he tilts your face to the side as much as he can with his cock still in your mouth, subtly, this way and that. testing the waters

and then, then, he pulls

you gasp, his grip tight enough, and strong enough, to have you sliding all the way off of his cock

he taps the head of his cock against your lips, and your mouth falls open, willing, waiting. he lets out a shuddery breath, and you can’t quite see his face from where you are, but you know his eyes must be closed

his right hand gives a great twist, hair pulled taut between his fingers, and then he pushes you down, down, onto his cock. he doesn’t stop when you sputter, doesn’t let up when you gag. he holds you there for a second, two, three, and then lets you up to collect yourself

you have a system. a pinch to kai’s thigh will let him know that he’s being too rough, that you need a break, but you’ve never needed to do it before. you certainly don’t need to now

he sets a pace, after that

you place your hands on his knees, your own aching from being pressed into the carpet, as kai pulls you up on his cock, head dotted with precome, and then pushes you back down, throat instinctively constricting as you breathe through your nose, and will yourself not to choke

he makes sure that you take him fast, that your head doesn’t move unless he wants it to. he plants his feet on the floor, slides down in his gaming chair just so, and makes tiny, aborted movements with his hips like he just isn’t quite deep enough; like he won’t be satisfied until you’re coughing around him, stuffed full of him

he’s whimpering now, voice high on each exhale, trailing off heavy and breathy towards the end. he’s still got his headphones on, unaware of how loud he’s being, and you love him like this, needy and unabashed

your tongue swirls along the head of his cock each time you’re tugged up, and the slide is easier now, slicked with your spit, so you rub your thumb at the base of his length while you lap at the slit just to feel his hips twitch beneath your touch

his left hand moves from your jaw, down your neck, to your shoulder. he grips you there, fingertips pressing into the bone, just holding on, like he needs you to steady him while you simultaneously pull him apart

his cock jerks in your mouth at the feel of your teeth catching the crown, just there, ever so slight. he likes a little pain with his pleasure, and you know his limits just as well as you know your own

his whimpers have grown into moans now, long, pulled out from back of his throat. they are raw and strained; scratchy each time he thrusts up into your mouth, gaming chair squeaking beneath his movements

his coordination fails him the closer he gets to finishing, until he’s just holding your head in place, hips twisting, rolling up into the tight circle of your mouth, cock sliding along your tongue

he is all breath now, all shaky exhales and gasps and little whispers. tiny litanies of, “so good,” and, “ah, i’m– oh, oh.” he never gets out a full sentence, can’t think long enough to, and you know he’s close the moment his hand tightens on your shoulder enough to bruise, and his thighs flex beneath your palms

he gasps loud in the quiet of the room, pulling you off of his cock long enough to rush out, “i’m– where should i-”

“my mouth,” you tell him, no hesitation. your mouth falls open, and you stick your tongue out, eyes falling shut.

he is quick to slide back into you, cock prodding at the back of your throat, fingers catching in your hair. he shudders once, twice, knees bracketing you in

when he comes, it’s with a groan, back bowed so much so that the chair nearly rolls out from beneath him

his come shoots down your throat, and you sputter, tears pooling in your eyes. but he doesn’t stop, you don’t want him to stop, and you twist your tongue around the head, the crown, dip it right into the slit just to milk out more of him

he fills your mouth, his come hot against your tongue, and you swallow around him. there is spillage; there always is. it rolls down your chin, and onto the carpet

he lets out these exhausted little whines each time he breathes out, and though his hand on your shoulder has fallen away, the one in your hair merely loosens its grip, but stays. he pats your head once, and gently massages your scalp with his fingers

he is slumped back against his chair now, spent, worn, and when you shift so that you can look up at him, his eyes are shut tight, cheeks ruddy red. his bottom lip is swollen and wet and pink, like he’d been chewing on it during the excursion, and there’s a flush running down his neck, along his collarbones, creeping into his shirt. so, so pretty

when he comes to, he rolls back in his chair, and carefully helps you out from beneath the desk. your knees ache, and he tugs you into his lap, kissing the apple of your cheek, and the tip of your nose

“you made me lose my game,” he says, but he doesn’t sound like he minds all that much. his big hand slides along the small of your back, and he smiles, so small you almost miss it. “gotta find a way to make it up to me, don’t you think?”

and so you end up in his gaming chair with him beneath the desk, your legs spread, thighs on either side of his head as he tugs your bottoms down, tossing them out of the way. you knew it’d end up like this– it almost always does.

and you suppose that’s one of the perks of having a gamer boyfriend; he’s always got to even the score 

[garoujo]

✩ ˛˚ . KISAKI TETTA ; — you know that kisaki can’t deny you, even when you’re waiting in his office uninvited.

warnings: f!reader, prep + the beginnings of more, exhibitionism / office scenes as always. note: it’s been so long since i’ve written him but i always really enjoy it, even tho i forgot how i actually do it &lt;/3

“anyone could’ve seen you like this, you’re in an office full of men.” kisaki’s tone is unwavering before it’s followed by the click of his office door as it closes, his eyes crawling along your figure as you lay spread out for him on his office desk. there’s bite to his words, but not the type that stings as it’s followed by a drawn out sigh and a careful step closer.

“nobody’s dumb enough to walk into kisaki’s office without knocking first.” you were right, he had rules — privacy, which is why you know this is fine. your thighs are spread, your pussy is wet but his brows twitch at the sound of his last name before he’s slotting himself in the space before you.

“tetta..” you drawl and kisaki feels himself burn at the sound of that name on your lips as he relaxes, feeling your fingertip trace the shape of his jaw while his own squeeze at your hips. his eyes are on yours and there’s a subtle sort of glow in his gaze as you continue. “everyone knows who i belong to.”

“i know. i made sure of it.” he replies quickly, as clean cut and honest as he always is before he pressing a quick kiss to the corner of your lips. the atmosphere in the room is heavy, surrounding you both like a blanket as your hands continue to dance along his skin, smoothing under the collar of his shirt before they tighten and pull him closer for another.

kisaki was powerful, he had an empire, the city in the palm of his hand that was a given — but nothing could make him crumble like a sweet little look from you could, for you, he’d get on his knees and repent. so when he feels your lips on his and your fingers move to tug at his belt, he’s quick to let his hands take over as he makes quick work of the buckle.

“tell me about your day so far, sweetheart.” there’s a carnal drop in his tone despite the sincerity of his question when he pulls himself away, working with the fabric of his shirt as he tugs at his tie and carefully rolls his sleeves up to his elbows.

“i had breakfast and cleaned the apartment..” you begin despite the way your chest heaves with want, your gaze fixated on the way he pulls himself apart for you. every square inch of kisaki tetta was perfectly put together, pressed and tucked — expensive suits and accessories, which is maybe why the realisation he’s about to leave you so messy is so addicting.

“and i—“ your sentence wavers when it’s accompanied by the sudden squeeze of his hand along your thigh, tracing closer despite the way he sends you a look that urges you to continue, sucking on his teeth because you know he won’t keep going until you do.

“—i had a bath.” kisaki hums like he’s listening, he always is, hanging on your every word even though his fingers are tracing higher up your skin until he’s petting through your folds. your fingers grab at the edge of his desk as you exhale, head dropping back to reveal more of your skin to him as he presses another kiss against your pulse point.

“did you have lunch?” he asks again despite the way his fingers press onto your clit with purpose, rubbing at you with two fingers until your breathing is turning to soft pants and your thighs are spreading wider. “answer me, sweetheart.” he asks again before his movements deliberately slow.

“not yet. ah.. i want you tetta.” you whisper, eyes casting kisaki a soft, lustful glance as one of your hands twist in the fabric of his shirt — keeping you steady as you try to grind into more of his touch. he keeps up the pace and pressure until you’re wet enough for him to push two fingers inside, humming before his free hand is petting along your waist.

“we’ll get you lunch after this, you can eat with me.” he’s talking like he’s unbothered, ignoring the second half of your sentence because you’re not prepped yet. but his hair has fallen over his glasses slightly and he suddenly feels too warm under his shirt everytime he looks at you.

kisaki’s pressing his fingers into with angled purpose as they brush against the spongy spot inside of you, languidly pumping them in and out of your wet walls as he swirls gentle circles into your clit with his thumb. his fingers drag more of your slick out as he makes a sloppy mess between your thighs, uncaring about the way it smears along his desk and slacks as you push yourself closer to him.

“i come all the way to your office because i want you and you still buy me lunch? so sweet, tetta.” your words are drawled, the weight of your arousal making them sound whispery and pretty as you giggle. but he feels the sound burn in his bones as his other hand moves to squeeze at your jaw, making you look at him before hes kissing you softly.

it’s breathtaking the way kisaki’s lips move with yours after you’ve teased him, feeling him suck lightly on your tongue as his fingertips tap at your cheeks — a wordless command that you obey so well before he lets you pull away to breathe.

“i know, still so spoiled. but i take care of you.. don’t i, my love?” you’re nodding before he can even finish the sentence because he does, so much so that if he really became the shadows you know you’d hide from the sun forever. so you send him a starry-eyed look that has him pulling his fingers out of you with the next beat, and because he cares for you — he doesn’t give you a moment to whine before it’s immediately replaced by the weight of his cock resting against you.

kisaki's moves like there's no rush as his hand wraps around the shaft, letting himself press against the entrance to your cunt before he's sinking into you with his next exhale. your thighs twitch when he grazes past your swollen sweet spot, making him curse with a mixture of need and delight, and your walls reward the stretch of his cock with an intoxicating squeeze around him, one that's followed by his palm resting around the back of your neck to pull you into him as his head rests in the crook of your neck.

“you’re mine.. fuck—so let me take care of you now.”

© 2023 garoujo. please do not copy any of my layouts or writing and translate or repost onto any other sites.

[plush-rabbit]

Aphrodisiac Induced Reader + The Brothers

A/N: The brothers!! I hope yall enjoy!! Aphrodisiac induced is always a fun thing to play with. The brothers,, my beloved

-

You really should have known better than to take food that was offered by Beel. You know that he has the right intentions in mind- that him sharing food is a miracle of itself and rejecting him would have his brows furrowed and lips pursed into a pout- but he’s also gluttony. He can eat whatever he wants and as much as he wants without so much of a stomach ache. You, on the other hand, cannot. You should have seen this coming when the cupcake you bite into filled your mouth with such an indescribable sweetness that it made your teeth ache, the flavor otherworldly and leaving you hungry for me, taking greedy bites out of the cutely decorated pastry. There was a sharp pang in your stomach, your body on fire and sex dripping with every nudge that your body made.

You couldn’t be alone right now- or maybe you should have been left alone, maybe that would have saved you from humiliation of your dripping arousal that was leaking past your slit. You’re quick to rise, standing on shaky legs, curled over as your cheeks burn, sweat beading against your skin, only worsening the sensitive state that you are in. It’s fast-acting, making your breaths come out in heated gasps, and everything just feels a bit too much, just too good for it to be normal. An aphrodisiac- a strong one that is making you impossibly aroused. You suck in a sharp breath and go to the person who you know will treat you right.

Lucifer:

Lucifer is a gentleman- most of the time at least. But during your time of need he is perfect to go to. He’ll allow you- or more like insist- that you stay in his office until the aphrodisiac’s effects have passed. You’ll lay on the couch, face buried into a throw pillow while the other one is between your legs. Shame has long been gone since you’ve entered his domain, his eyes never really leaving your shaky frame. When you moan his name, he stiffens, the pen in his hand is held tighter but he still rises, walking towards you in concern. He’ll sit beside you, let his hand curve over your forehead, feeling the heat go through his glove.

He clears his throat, pulling his hand away, and there’s this heavy look on your face, the pillow squeezed tight between your legs, the pillow under your head has faint imprints of your teeth. He’ll avoid touching you, pulling his hand away from you and walking briskly to his desk chair. He can hear your steps across the floor, the way you gasp his name and seem to rub your thighs together for any sort of friction. He won’t spare you a glance, eyes focused on the paperwork in front of him. Underneath the desk, his leg jolts as you snake your arms around his shoulders, your lips wet as they touch his neck.

There isn’t enough time in the day and night for him to focus on his work and on your growing needs that are starting to mark everything in his office. Black ink scratches along the pape, the letters growing shaky as you snake your way onto him. He’s actually startled when you situate yourself on his lap, your sex pressed against his erection. He’s surprised by your sudden confidence but writes it off due to the effects of the aphrodisiac. You’re above him, arms snaked once more on his shoulders and you play with the hair that rests on the nape of his neck.

The feeling of shame is not foreign to the Avatar of Pride but even then, letting you know that he is indeed aroused given the situation does bring a bit of heat to his body. His hands find their way to hold onto your hips, trying to ignore the way that you have begun to grind against his. But there is work to do and despite the growing need to pleasure both you and himself, he displaces you, ignoring the way that you call his name and can’t seem to stop touching him.

The only way to gain his attention that you desperately long for is to push him away, the wheels locking against an edge of the floor and you bend yourself over the desk. Lucifer wants to throw you out so you can be another’s problem but you pull your bottom layer off, your fingers searching inside your leaking hole and pride starts to fuel him. You touch yourself in front of him, beg for him to touch you- of course you would. Slender hands come to touch your body, and you’re already leaking onto the floor, thick, sweet arousal staining the very room that he allowed you to enter. His cock is against you, rimming around your entrance, hearing your cries and please for him to simply fuck you but you did cause him to become distracted from very important work and he is going to punish you for that.

Mammon:

Of course you’d go to him. He is your first after all, why wouldn’t you go to The Great Mammon? But wow, he was over his head when you came knocking at his door. Always eager to see and spend time with you, he allows you to enter without seeing the state you’re in. You stagger into his room, holding his hand and stumbling into him and it’s only then that he can smell the sweet, lingering aroma in the air. He wants to believe you’re just trying a new perfume and now it's made you sick, but it’s worse than that when the hand you’re holding moves to your chest. He can feel your rapid heartbeat, the way your body is in flames that can rival hellfire itself, the pained cry of his name as you try to pinch your legs together in the awkward embrace.

Frozen for a moment, Mammon completely blanks on what to do. He can feel your pain, the aching need in your entire body that makes you feel as if you’re going to combust into flames. He doesn’t know whether to touch you or not. But then you cry his name- sobbing it out in broken syllabus and you cry that it hurts and you think you might die and you're in his arms. Your hold on him tightens and he thinks he can leave you to be- let you wait out the excruciating pain in his room until the feeling fades and just thank him with attention or material objects later. He fails to consider that he is weak to you and when you look at him with teary eyes, he falters.

He stutters in his explanation, talking about how he can maybe go out and get you a toy or something- and he promises to be quick, he is the fastest after all. But then the thought lingers and he imagines your sex stretched with some toy that he chose, and his body jerks. Your vision is growing blurrier by the second and the hold on his hand tightens until your knuckles pale. You pull on him, thanking whatever God is watching down on you, that the door to the prized car he keeps in is open. Even he’s unable to know what is going on until you push him inside, crawling onto the back seat, calling his name and begging for him to join you.

In such a closed space, the Avatar of Greed is trying desperately to avoid touching you. He stays seated in the front seat, fingers drumming along the steering wheel. He cares for the car deeply- one of the few things that gives him freedom that is indescribable and yet, here you are. Your sex is leaking, your cries echoing across the closed space and what is music to his ears in his dreams is now a horrible reminder that you are seated behind him, victim to an aphrodisiac. He needs an excuse to touch you, needs to just feel you for a moment and when you threaten to stain the flawless leather seats with your slick, it’s enough for him to crawl to the back seat.

He never realized how crowded it was, how his elbows and knees tend to knock into things. He doesn’t notice how you’ve kicked your shorts off, how your underwear has become dark in color to your dripping sex. You kiss him, and Mammon is weak to you. His hands are on you, the scent overpowering and he promises to keep the touching to a minimum to only touch what you’ll let him touch and kiss where you want him to. But you’re huffing, grabbing onto him and trying to meet his crotch. The windows grow foggy, the car begins to creak but neither of you pay it any mind. It’s cramped and you’re too close but not close enough, you ache to be closer to him, to have him pressed against you until all you can remember is the way that his chest feels against your skin, the warmth of him, and the way his kisses are so tender and feverish all at once.

Leviathan:

Leviathan refuses to make eye contact with you. He won’t even address you. He sits on his desk chair, playing a game that doesn’t need half of the attention he usually gives. You rest inside his bathtub, curled over he presumes, whining and mumbling something that sounds like his name but he can't be so sure nor does he expect you to mumble his name in your current state. But as much as he wants to drown you out, he can’t. You’re too whiny, crying and begging for a solution, peeling your shirt off because it’s too hot. He reasons that’s because of the aphrodisiac because his room is always kept to a cool temperature. So now, he has you topless in his bathtub and the only proof is your shirt that was tossed where he sits and the reflection above, portraying a teasing, blurry image of your torso.

It’s possibly the worst situation for the poor, introverted demon. He finally has you all to himself and you’re in such a needy state and the plot is so close to a top tier hentai of his- Help! My Friend Took a Drug and Now They Won’t Stop Grinding on Me But I Also Don’t Want Them To Stop. But You came to him, you trusted that he would watch over you and whether it was because he kept his room so guarded or because you trust him, he really doesn’t know which. It’s just too muddled for him to believe that you would actively choose him. So, he does what he does best- he immerses himself in a game. The cutest game that he could think of- one that even if he grew and remained hard would make him feel more like a degenerate than he already does. He puts his headphones on and as if everything is trying to punish him, the loading screen takes forever.

The soundtrack plays loud, booming in his headset and effectively drowning you out. But he knows you’re still crying for him- that you're still in the same room with him. The perverted otuka glances up where he can see your reflection and he catches a glimpse of your hands cupping the swell of your chest and his face burns. Had you caught him peeking before? Was this a way for you to play with yourself without actively touching yourself? He can feel his growing arousal, translucent pre-ejaculate spilling past his slit and staining his boxers. It’s humiliating and he hates that the idea of you touching yourself in his room is more than enough for him to get in the mood.

He’s ignoring you- the only way that he can hopefully soften without actually creaming his pants. He avoids your reflection, ignores how your hands grip the curve of the tub until your knuckles pale, how you swing a leg over and it meets the hard layer of the bath, and for a moment, you still. He’s ignoring your decision to remove yourself from the place he rests and staggering to him. When he feels your hands on his thighs, he startles and the game minimizes into a small box. Unaware of what to do in this situation, he freezes, letting his body tense as you crawl onto his lap, your eyes heavy with lust and body feeling so warm above him that he’s unable to breathe.

His breathing is ragged, his hands stopping on the curve of your bum, as he’s unable to look anywhere else but your face. You’re flushed, gripping onto him, your tongue out as you pant and you’re so desperate for his attention that you lean close. His hands raise in an attempt to push you off but as if it were a cliché moment, his hands curve over your chest and you whimper his name at the simple touch. The third born should have been careful, he shouldn’t have let you grind against him and he surely shouldn’t have let himself becomes distracted by a kiss and yet, here he is, undressing himself as you greedily slide yourself onto his cock, your face scrunching up as every scale is pushed further into your aching hole. Leviathan is holding you close, the computer screen dimming as your can fill him spill inside of you.

Satan:

Eager to learn, he knows the effects of what an aphrodisiac can do to a being. So when you come knocking at Satan’s door, begging for refuge, leaning against him and gripping at his shirt, he pats your hand, and welcomes you inside. He allows you to rest on his bed, letting you bury yourself under his blankets. Perhaps it wasn’t the best idea for either of you- you’re inhaling his scent during a time of desperate need, and soon when the effects wear off, he’ll be left in a bed that is drenched in your scent. That, however, is a problem for another day.

In order to keep his mind and hands busy, he’ll finally organize his room. He’s able to ignore your whining, the way that you shiver under the covers and bury yourself into his pillow, how you spread your legs so they are uncovered by the blanket; he ignores the sweet scent of your arousal that fills the room and his lungs. He holds his breath, taking few, deep breaths every now and then to avoid inhaling too much of you. You’re whining, talking through the pillow about how it hurts and you just need something- and doesn’t he have a spell he can use to just rid you of at least a tiny bit of it.

It’s the growing arousal of himself and your constant whining that edges him closer to annoyance. He holds books tight in his hand, orders them by author and published years, height and volumes, but it isn’t enough to drown you out. He regrets letting you enter his room but in the same second, he regrets having the thought. He’s happy that you came to him, trusted him enough to see you in a disheveled state. He doesn’t want to scare you off or make you feel unwanted, so he edges closer to you, tugging on the bottom of his shirt as if he were a nervous boy instead of a grown demon. The bed creaks under his weight and your hand latches onto his thigh. He jerks his leg, your hand only squeezing tighter and when he makes eye contact, your eyes are filled with tears, glistening and catching on your lashes like fresh dew.

You’re aroused, deeply and sweetly. It's a nervous thing to be attracted to someone like you, a demon that has been round and born with blood and wrath etched deep into soul and yet here he is, nervous to even touch your trembling hand. He knows the effects of something as strong as an aphrodisiac and for a demon made one, there is no real spell for it. He lets you lay on his lap, your mouth close to his sex, eyes lidded and holding tight to his hand. His control is fading, his growing need pushing past logical thought. He offers himself, and you rise quickly, already straddling his lap, your chest pressed against his, asking if it is okay. A cold shiver runs through his spine and he nods, offering that he’ll take care of you.

The trembling, nervous demon fades just as quick as it came when your lips are on his. You kiss him, need so transparent that he’s teasing, pulling away, letting your back meet the bed. His smile is sharp, leaning to kiss your pursed lips, grabbing your leg and pulling it upwards, mumbling praise under his breath when you hook your leg around his waist. Satan is heavy when above you, and maybe it’s the aphrodisiac that still lingers on your tongue, but he is unwilling to move away from you, kissing you and hooking his fingers in your mouth when you moan. You’re needy and he wants to hear you beg for him, calling his name. He cups your face with spit coated fingers, asking you to be good for him and mew for him.

Asmodeus:

As the Avatar of Lust, Asmodeus immediately knew something was off in the house when he felt lust in the air. It’s sweet. Intoxicating and bitter all at once. It’s like the sweetest honey known to mankind and he knows the feeling well enough to open his door before you have the thought to knock. He welcomes you into his room, letting you rest on the bed, a small part of him on the inside crinkling when you ruffle the sheets. But, of course, he knows this isn’t you- you would never be so careless. It’s all because of the aphrodisiac making your movements more frantic.

He knows the cure to end it- sex, plain and simple. Masturbation might help but he fears your hand will become sore. Always eager to have somebody in bed with him- out of his own sin and own need for company- he offers you two choices. You can borrow a toy- new, still in the box and all- or he could take care of you. Perhaps he shouldn’t have offered the second option, he knew how excited you were to simply enter a room with another living being but he couldn’t help himself. You look absolutely adorable with your flustered face.

A kiss from the living Avatar of Lust is better than any pleasure that you’ve ever received. And he knows it. You moan under him, your body shaking and eyes rolling to the back of your head, clawing at the shirt on his back. He smiles into the kiss. So eager to be taken care of that a simple kiss was enough to make you climax, your arousal dripping onto your underwear, so heavy in the air, that he pulls away as he feels your breaths start to shorten due to lack of air. But even as he pulls away, you still reach to pepper him with kisses, your breathing reggae against his face, gasping for breath with every parting kiss.

Your hands are on him, eager to pull him into another kiss. You want him and it’s evident from the way that you don’t push away when he removes his clothing. But, he stops for a moment, watching your gaze on him, wide and dazed and you stare at him as if he was something more than just a demon, you give him your worship and you pull him into another kiss. He stiffens, pulling away and asking if this is what you want, touching your bare skin only to flinch away as if it burned him. And when your lips are on him, your smile returns for a moment, telling him that you came to him because you knew he would tend to you in any way, and he melts.

His lips return to yours, kissing you eagerly, wanting nothing more than to just keep his lips on you. And as last time, you shudder beneath him, another orgasm washing through your body, your release spilling pass your slit. Limps entangle with each other and you cry the name Asmodeus, moaning it as if it were the only thing on your mind, sobbing under him and telling him how good it feels. You pet his head and let him bury his face into our chest, peppering kisses until he reaches your neck. His eyes close, an unexpected climax teases at him, as you pull him closer to your aching body. Every sigh from you in a gentle gust of wind, every cry a song that not even choir from the Celestial Realm can rival. He pushes deep inside of you, letting you feel every curve and texture from his cock as it molds your leaking hole into his shape.

Beelzebub:

Beelzebub feels incredibly guilty when you come to him, his shirt knotted in your hands as you explain what you ate. He blames himself, going to hold you only to flinch when you hiss and pull yourself closer to him. It’s an aphrodisiac, he should have known that you’ll be more sensitive to touch during this time. He apologizes as he leads you to his bed, shaking his head and holding your hand. He’s gluttony- he should have been able to smell the scent of an aphrodisiac.

Of course, he’ll let you hide in his room until the effects wear off. He won’t make a single peep but it’s difficult for him. His clothes are sticking to him, his body is in an odd sticky situation where sex clings to him clothes and skin. He knows the effects of the aphrodisiac but he feels guilty for giving it to you so when you cling to him, begging for him to not let go of you, he sighs and stays beside you. He’s stiff, unwilling to move and can only let out a shaky breath, when you press yourself closer to him, hooking a leg over his and curling it over. He can feel your sex- hot and pulsing and he leaves ripped bedsheets as his hand curls into the comforter.

He’s rubbing your back, letting his fingers drum against your spine as he hears your panted breaths. He knows he should stop, that he should at least go and take a shower so he can at least smell good but you hold a tight grip on him. You’re feverish, burning against him and he can tell you want more, your lips open up and kiss along the side of his ribcage but he can’t move.

It’s getting too much- even for him. He doesn’t want to take advantage of this needy state that you’re in but as he rises with a feeble explanation that he’s going to take a shower, you pull him down. He’s above you, your eyes watery and cheating rising and falling with heavy breaths. He can’t kiss you but you’re leaning closer, your lips brushing against his and he can smell the aphrodisiac that still rests like heaven on your tongue. You don’t blame him for the accident slip, you’re just begging for him to take care of you, letting your hand rest over the swell of his breast and he’s growing weaker by the second.

When your lips are on his, your tongue slipping past your lips, Beelzebub can taste the aphrodisiac and he’s melting. His tongue has made its home on your mouth, curving over your pink muscle and feeling the way you shudder beneath him. His name is muted by the kiss, your hands clawing at his clothing and he’s sweaty and aroused, watching you as you strip yourself of your clothes. The lovely pastry that still lingers isn’t enough for him to go into a full rut, but it’s enough for him to bend your legs to your chest, your hole pulsing as his cock aligns to it. The way that you call his name is enough for him to push himself fully into you.

Belphegor:

Belphegor is asleep under the covers, pillow tucked under his head and he does not awaken to your scent growing closer and closer, heavier and sweeter than usual. He doesn’t awaken when the doorknob wiggles, a frantic turning but he does awaken when you slam the door. He is startled awake, his eyes wide for a second before narrowing, teeth flashing as he lets out a low growl. He stops when he notices it's you, yawning and telling you to get into bed with him. It’s only until you’re beside him, greedily taking the invitation, that he realizes the state you’re in.

He has to prod you until you tell him what’s happened, watching as you bury your face into a pillow, whining out pathetically as you tell him what happened. He laughs, it’s sharp and teasing. Of course, you took an aphrodisiac by accident. It could only happen to you. He tries to be sympathetic with you. He knows you must be in a great deal of pain, but then again you came to him and that makes him stay awake for a bit longer, turning over on his side and watching you struggle to not touch yourself despite the aroma of your arousal that is thick in the room.

Sloth offers to put you under a deep sleep- he can’t promise that you’ll be still- but he can promise that you’ll wake up without the effects of the aphrodisiac. When you refuse, he merely shrugs, turning over with a pout. He’s disappointed but he can’t do much. He does tell you that he is tired, so he’ll be sleeping but you’re allowed to spend the rest of your heightened arousal in the attic with him. The power of an aphrodisiac- one made a devil no less- is strong, and giving it you in even worse. He can sense the neediness in you, the way you watch him with lustful eyes, your mouth parted the eagerness to get into bed with him.

As promised, he slips off into a sleep, leaving you alone. But your body is on his, legs parted with his single leg. He isn’t asleep long enough for him to be in an actual slumber before he feels the bed move ever so slightly. It’s constant and your whining, mumbling apologies and he opens his eyes to find you humping his leg. It’s pathetic and hot all at once, watching you get off on his leg alone, so desperate for release that you’ve succumbed to humping him. His smile is tight, turning over and letting his tail curl around you, the static in the air only causing you to arch your back when his demon form pops out. It pricks against your wrists, the fur unkempt as he rises above you.

You wanted his attention and now you’ve gotten it. You’ve woken him up from nap, it’s normal and expected for him to be grouchy but thank goodness that the smell from your leaking sex is more arousing that anything else he’s encountered. You’re on your knees on the mattress, his hips meeting yours and letting out a loud grunt when he finishes. He’s tired and over it but his cock still stands upright and you’re still needy and awake, your sex leaking with his arousal. Belphegor will lay on his back, offer himself in his sleep to you until you’re content. The last coherent thought he has is sighing at how warm and squishy you feel against him.

[workofheart]

promise

levi never thought he could have a peaceful night’s rest until he found himself in your arms

requested by: @thecaptainsbride​ 

pairing: levi ackerman x reader

wc: 2.5k

genre: fluff, canonverse, establishing domesticity

a/n: we had levi comforting reader, and now we have reader comforting levi :’) in terms of the request, i altered the timeline a bit but i think it still captures what you were going for! enjoy u guys <3

Levi isn’t used to letting people into his space.

In this line of work, he’s learned to be careful of the people he trusts to see his life from the inside. Not only to retain the secrecy and plans of the Scouts, but to protect his well being when he is so surrounded by death and destruction. A heart can only break so many times before it fails to beat at all.

That’s why, when the night comes when he finally decides to let you stay over, he’s tense. He observes your every step, unsure if he’s nervous or embarrassed or scared. It’s not skepticism, he knows, because he does trust you. You’re the only person he could possibly imagine him letting get so close to him with all that he’s experienced. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have let you enter in the first place; so for once, he’s going to have faith his own judgment.

You slowly pace around his room, peeking at the knick knacks Levi has accumulated over the span of his life so far. He has quite the array of stationary arranged neatly on his desk, and a curated assortment of pens and ink to choose from. Worn, loved books line the shelves of the wooden case, small pieces of paper poking out from the top. A nimble finger traces over the cracked spine of one with a faded green cover.

“Can I?” you ask, turning over your shoulder to see him. Levi is sitting on the edge of his bed, palms pressed tightly to his thighs. He takes a deep breath and nods gently in response, dark strands of hair falling in front of his eyes.

You carefully tilt the spine towards you and pluck it from its spot. Flipping through the pages, you can see how Levi has diligently underlined, highlighted, and starred the passages. Small notes in his delicate handwriting decorate the margins with definitions and insightful observations. This book has been well read, and you’re sure the others are just the same.

His room is fairly bare for how long it’s been his home, but how much of a home is it really if he’s always on the move with the scouts? Constantly between hotels, barracks, abandoned homes, or whatever else the world throws at them next, he hasn’t had time to make the space livable. They’re never in one place too long - this is more like a headquarters to come back to after the day is done. And for Levi, the day is rarely done, even when the sun has set and the sky turns dark.

It’s strange, but he almost likes having you here. To him, it’s always been just a room. A simple, stupid box in a line of other simple, stupid boxes to house people just like him. Now that you’re occupying the space, though, it’s much different. It’s no longer just a room, but a sort of home. 

Your presence here gives it much more meaning than any trinket he might have placed on the shelf. Things in this room he’s never given a second thought suddenly burst to life with your interest in them, pulling memories from the depths of his brain as he recalls where he got them, when he got them, just because you asked. 

It’s much too easy for him, too, the way he imagines coming home from a long day to greet you at the front door. He pictures you perfectly, hair twisted into a loose braid, a soft nightgown hanging off your shoulders, feet sporting cozy slippers that make muted thuds as you walk over to give him a warm welcome back. He imagines quiet mornings sitting at the table for two, sipping tea and working through crosswords together. He sees himself reading aloud to you at the bay window, dozing off against his shoulder under the light. 

The thought of such uncomplicated, reliable domesticity with you is a thought he lets himself dream about. It seems natural, a routine he wouldn’t mind slipping into in the slightest, and you haven’t even stayed the night yet. 

He wouldn’t mind living here forever as long as you did too

When your curiosity has been, for the most part, sated, you return back and join him on the bed. You plop down, expecting to sink right in - why exactly, you’re not sure, because it’s incredibly characteristic for Levi’s bed to be as hard as a rock.

Okay, maybe that’s an exaggeration, but the firmness is still shocking beneath your fingertips.

“Have you ever even slept in this bed?” You ask with wide eyes, hands pressing down into the austere cushion, trying to fluff it like it was a pillow. The incredulous smile adorning your face makes his stomach flip. He crosses his arms across his front as if to mask his heart beating out of his rib cage. He's never been in such close, private quarters with you before. 

Levi shrugs. “I don’t really sleep anywhere.” Internally, he shakes off his nerves, not wanting to embarrass himself by leaning into them. The thought of showing how bashful he feels alone is mortifying, but he doesn’t know yet that you’d only love him more for it. 

You can’t help but to tease, muttering, “I mean, I know of a way to break it in.” Your face is utterly serious, but your eyes, swimming with a mirth Levi is far too fond of, give it away. 

Levi diverts his eyes with a small roll to the side, the hint of a smile crawling up his face. He’s the last person you’d think to be flustered by such a thing, but it’s only because it’s you. “Go to bed, brat.”

You pout. “Only if you lay down with me.”

“I told you, I don’t sleep.”

“Doesn’t mean you can’t lay down.”

You know your way around Levi too well, he thinks, or maybe he just loves you. The way you can get his resolve to crumble with a mere pleading expression must be some sort of crime. You read him like a book and know him like the back of your hand to a point where it would be dangerous if it were anyone else. Usually the thought of such a person would intimidate him, but he doesn’t mind being seen by you - not that he has a choice. Against your will, he doesn’t stand a chance; not now and not ever.

He sighs a long sigh and gestures for you to get in with a small wave of his hand. While he stands to close to blinds and light the lamp by his bedside, you scramble under the covers. The initial feeling of warmth covers your skin and makes you shiver as you adjust, crawling hastily under and pulling the blankets up close to your chest. They’re soft and clean and smell just like Levi.

He lets out a yawn that oddly reminds you of a lion pup, but you don’t mention it, instead locking it away for you to think of later on. If you said anything, he’d probably never do it again. Gently, he pulls up the covers on his side and slides under to join you, the bed sinking with his added weight.

“Goodnight, Levi.”

“Goodnight, dear.”

After laying for a while, staring up at the ceiling, Levi feels himself become drowsy. He lets his muscles relax, lets his jaw unclench, lets his eyes fall shut. Though he’s a bit puzzled as to why, sleeping now seems so inviting, and who is he to deny it?

From his side, you watch his breathing slow. It settles into a steady rise and fall of his chest, and his lips part slightly.

The progression is slow. At first, you work up the courage to slip your arm over his middle. You spend minute after minute contemplating, picturing him pushing you away, but you’re getting tired and enough is enough. You slip your arm over his middle and stay completely still; then, nothing happens.

Until moments later, when he rolls onto his side to face your direction. His eyes are still closed, rhythmically relaxed breaths leaving his nose. Then, you move onto your back and scoot up a bit further onto the pillows. He unconsciously curls into your warmth, shifting further into your body, and it makes you melt immediately, swelling with a giddy feeling. You’re almost worried the joyous thumping you feel inside your chest will wake him up.

Eventually, Levi’s head rests perfectly atop your shoulder, small puffs of air falling lightly on your skin. Your hands rub calm circles into the skin on his back where his t-shirt has ridden up, careful not to rouse him from his slumber.

It’s like that for a long time. You keep yourself awake, content with just holding him for now. You take the time to think, watching the flickering glow of the lamp, listening to his quiet breaths, feeling the muted beat of his heart on your hip.

It’s hours later when Levi sucks in a big breath, blinking awake in alarm. His head picks up off your chest and he looks around, finally settling on you who blinks right back. His lids squeeze shut and he mentally grounds himself as he realizes he’s safe.

“You okay?” you ask quietly, voice low as to not interrupt the calm of the night. Your hold around him tightens to let him know you’re there.

He shakes his head slightly and sighs. “Bad dream.” 

“‘S all right,” you say, hand moving from his back to his nape, “you can go back to sleep.”

He rubs his eyes, yawning. In an instant, he freezes, realizing the position he’s in. He’s practically clinging to you like a child would a toy, and he feels a familiar heat flush his skin as his head hangs. “Sorry.” He swallows. “I should probably start work.” 

He starts to push himself off of you to get up, but your hold on his shoulders is firm, pulling him right back down.

“You’re tired,” you say. “Stay. I’ll be right here.”

He sighs, looking around, before resigning and dipping his head back down to lay on top of you. He doesn’t feel like arguing something he knows he wants deep down anyway. He nuzzles his face into your front, shaking his head slightly as if to clear his mind of what was plaguing it in his rest.

“Promise you won’t leave,” he mumbles softly into your shirt, barely audible. He’s too tired to put up a mask for show, and he’s relieved to see that you don’t need one from him come rain or shine.

Your fingers card through his silky locks and brush them back from his face as his body finally sinks into yours, his weight a warming comfort. It’s slight, but you feel his head tilt just a bit further into your palm.

You place a chaste kiss to his crown. “Promise.”

☆☆☆

When the morning sun finally wakes and rises above the horizon line, Levi finds himself turning away from the beams filtering through the curtains. He feels the golden light on his lids, and he flips onto his opposite side, clinging to the cozy feel of his bed. The only thing that pulls him from his slumber is when his hand stretches out to find emptiness all around, your presence absent from his space where he so desperately wants you.

“Morning, sleepyhead,” you say, watching him shift slowly and gain his surroundings. You’re standing at the small counter across the room, boiling a pot of water on the stove - Levi can tell from the faint rumbling of bursting bubbles inside the steel kettle. He slowly peels his eyes open to get a glimpse of you, features seeming to glow with the light pouring in from the windows. He feels his heart skip a beat that he’s not ready for.

 Levi is surprised that he has slept in so late, let alone slept through the entire night at all. It’s rare that this happens - he almost wants to say it’s the first time it has occurred for him, waking up in secure comfort rather than burning fear. The only thing that could make it better were if you were right beside him.

Of course, Levi can’t bring himself to say something so forward this early in the morning. Instead, he mumbles a small, “Come back,” a hint of a whine to his voice that only you could identify.

There’s a muted clinking sound as you stir a spoon around in the porcelain cups you’ve prepared, knocking against each other as you try your best to pick them up. It feels like a juggling act, trying to bring them over safely. You don’t know how Levi makes it look so easy every time he brings you a cup when they are so awfully hot to the touch. He must have gotten used to it, or bears the sting for the sake of his collected appearance.

“I was planning on it,” you reassure him, “just had to stretch a bit.” 

Your feet pad lightly across the wood floors until you reach him, offering the tea which he graciously accepts. You set your own on the nightstand to cool while Levi takes his first sip immediately. It tastes just like how he makes it for himself. Considering he’s never explicitly shown you exactly what he does, he’s both surprised and deeply touched.

His eyes follow you as you clamor in next to him. He asks the question that’s been playing on his mind since he stirred awake hours ago. 

“Were you awake all night?”

He sees your expression falter slightly and knows right from then. Regardless, you brush it off without hesitation, nestling up to his side.

“No, no,” you lie casually, “I woke up a little before you did and went to sleep after.”

With a gentle hand, you straighten out the part in his hair, laying down the slight frizz from where his head was pressed into the pillow.

Levi looks at you for a long time, observing your tender gestures. He sees right through your words, and also sees the slight droop of your eyes, a hint of darkness beneath them. He thinks of you awake all night, petting his hair as he rests while you don’t, and brings a twinge of guilt to his heart. At the same time, his soul is utterly warmed and thankful. He’s not sure what to make of someone who’d do that for him.

He disregards your previous statement and instead addresses the obvious truth. “Don’t do that for me. You need sleep too.”

It draws a laugh from you. The way your eyes crease has his heart faltering. “I sleep more than enough, trust me.”

He peeks at you over the top of his tea cup, wishing he could freeze this moment in time, capturing how you look perfectly down to the miniscule curve of your lips so that he’ll never forget it. Maybe, he won’t have to.

He doesn’t need to ask because the answer is clear, but he does anyway.

“...Would you mind staying again tonight?”

[dontfeeltoohot]

JQ or JCB with a fever? They try to brush it off but the other knows better and gets them to rest?

This prompt is everything. Love it! I might have brushed over some of the brushing it off (whoops), it's still there but not a focal point. Still hope you enjoy though! And thanks for being patient, the past few weeks and honestly months have been a little intense.

X X X

Paris is fun the first two days. He and Joseph walk around and do silly tourist things even though both men have been before, wanting to take the quintessential photos with them and the Eiffel Tower and Arc De Triomphe. They eat until they can’t anymore, stomachs full with high end wines, breads, and cheeses. They meet a few fans, but everyone seems to respect the actors wanting space. 

The third day, Jamie wakes up groggy and shivering, despite the blankets on top of them. A dull ache has settled throughout his body while he’s slept, leaving him feeling worn down and heavy. They’re meant to go to a winery and the Lourve, though the thought of being out all day makes Jamie wish they weren’t. An hour later, both he and Joe are pulling on their coats, and he fixes a warm scarf around his boyfriend's neck, making sure it’s covering the pale skin entirely. 

“You’re going to burn me up with all of this,” Joe laughs, wrinkling his nose. 

“Need you to stay warm for me Darling, I’m feeling particularly chilled today, need a space heater,” the blonde teases, voice soft and gentle. 

“I think I can provide sufficient heat,” the younger man nods, running a hand through the other's hair. 

The January air is crisp and biting, and it causes Joe to swear under his breath. Jamie, however, finds that even though the wind makes his entire body tremble, his cheeks feel oddly soothed. The sting of the air is nice and it’s only then that the actor realizes his cheeks feel overly warm. 

Once he notices, the feeling of the heat is uncomfortable. It sits heavily on his cheekbones while they wait for a cab, holding Joe’s gloved hand in his own. By the time they’re walking through the entrance of the Louvre, Jamie’s grateful to get into the slightly warmer building. Sniffling, they pay and start towards the Egyptian area first. The musician’s eyes feel heavy and half lidded as they walk, like he’s been crying heavily even though he hasn’t. 

He moves in a hazy sort of state. His body feels as though it’s floating while he tries to focus on the art and artifacts, nodding along when Joe talks. His boyfriend pauses their perusement before they hit the fourth installment, frowning as he runs a hand down his arm. 

“You alright? You seem..miles away, which is unlike you, especially in a museum,” he says cheekily. 

Jamie feels miles away. He shivers again and shrugs, gearing up for an apology but the curly haired man steps closer and presses a cold hand onto his cheek and then his forehead. The blonde lets out a breathy noise, leaning in. 

“Love…you’re burning. You must feel shattered.” 

The urge to reassure the younger man bubbles up inside his too warm body, his cheeks dusted with a pink hue. He wants to promise Joe that he’s perfectly alright and they can continue. Instead, his mouth starts talking before his brain can catch up. 

“Mm…maybe a little. Mostly tired and heavy,” another shiver crawls through his body, making his shoulders tremble. 

“Let’s head back. We’ll get some good room service; bundle you up. I’m sure I can find a thermometer somewhere, they’ll have one at the front desk I’m sure. Poor thing.” 

Joe’s fingers run through Jamie’s hair, and the taller of the two leans in, accepting the soft comfort and vulnerability. He really does feel gross, and the thought of crawling back in bed for the remainder of the day with his partner sounds far better than walking around. 

“Sure. Sounds lovely, if I’m honest.” 

“You must be ill,” Joe teases him, but there’s worry behind his eyes. 

“I’ll be alright, I have you taking care of me, Darling.” 

As promised, they end up back in the comfortable king sized bed, Jamie wrapped up in blankets. His cheeks are red and there are darkening smudges under his tired eyes, but he still has a smile on his face. Joe’s walking over with a plastic thermometer, swiftly placing it under the other’s tongue when it’s on and ready. Jamie knows better than to talk, so he waits quietly until it beeps. 

“38.5 (101.4) degrees. Far too high to be doing anything but napping and cuddling. How do you feel aside from the fever?” 

“A bit knackered, honestly. Achy, throat’s a touch sore. Head’s hurting.” 

“Then rest. I’m going to shower then come cuddle, yeah?” 

By the time Joe’s showered and changed, Jamie’s asleep, small snuffles sounding out every once in a while. The younger man crawls into bed and turns the television on, turning the volume down, and lets himself relax, knowing Jamie will be out for a while. 

[jaemsun00]

Nct mark + 00 line when you give them an unexpected blowjob.

This is mature, do not interact if it make you uncomfortable. Exhibitionism acts.

- MARK

It was almost midnight and Mark was still stuck at the company room at the desk, writing whatever words came to his mind. You sat a fair bit away on your own chair, spinning around tiredly. He has told you, you should go home and go to sleep but you refused to leave him alone.

“This is so fucking annoying” you heard him swear, before ripping the paper out of the book, scrunching it up and failing to chuck it in the bin right beside his feet.

Just as you were about to say something a very interesting idea came to your mind. Mark has admitted that he has been feeling very uninspired to write any of his lyrics lately. Maybe he needed something to get the inspiration back.

Slowly walking towards him, you planned it out. It was going to be simple and Mark would not dare to say no to what your thinking.

Mark snapped his head when your hand touched his shoulder softly. “Let’s do something” you smile weirdly at him and he did eyes you. “I would love to but I have to finish this by tomorrow” he motioned to his book.

“I can help you” Mark tried not to let out a laugh when you said that. It’s no secret that your not talented in that area. “To get inspiration I mean” you scoff seeing how he was hiding his laughter. “Oh yeah? How you gonna do that?”

He was oblivious to your plan which made it seem even better. Mark was taken back when you spun his chair around and slowly dropped to your knees in between his legs. “Like this” you smile up at him, seeing how he gulped when you two made eye contact. he lifted his hips for you to slip his pants down and get right to work.

- RENJUN

“It’s very pretty” you smile at the painting Renjun has been working on the past two hours. You’ve barely been awake two minutes and he was forcing you to see all the drawings he has worked on lately. “You reckon?” He took the paper back and admired it himself.

“Mmm. Now can we go to beddd” you whine, hands resting on his desk as he shook his head. Ever since you’ve woken up with no boyfriend beside you, you’ve been whining to him about it. “Go by yourself” scoffing, you stood tall over his sitting figure.

“Renjun” he hummed as a response making you a bit more mad. But why not play with him a bit. “Renjun” you try again in a more sing song voice. Your boyfriend still ignored you. Thankfully the desk he was working on was easy to get underneath, yeah you hit your head once but who cares.

Renjun was a bit weirded out with you crawling under the table, but he wasn’t expecting your hand rubbing at him through his pants. “Baby?” He groaned out, pushing his chair back to see you smiling up at him. “Your just gonna-“ “okay I’m going to bed.” You say getting up, but Renjun was faster to grab onto your wrist. “You can’t leave. You’ve started something” “if you come to bed then I’ll finish it” your smile was so cunningly that Renjun couldn’t say no and followed you back to bed.

- JENO

It was funny, seeing how normal Jeno was trying to be while talking through the headset with Haechan. But you continued your task, bopping your head up and down on his length. “Go le- fuck left” your boyfriend tried to hide his moan. Haechan must of said something back because Jeno told him to shut up.

“I kicked my toe” he lied through his clenched teeth, just as you planned you took him in your mouth fully, gagging a bit. That just made Jeno want to cry out. You’ve never done this, never have you thought you would be doing this. But here you are, on your knees and giving your boyfriend a blow job under his desk.

“Okay I’m gonna- I’m gonna go” he stuttered before quickly taking his headset off and placing it on the keyboard. His head dropped down to see you doing your task. “Fuck you look so pretty” he smiled, hands running through your messy hair, making a make shift ponytail as his hips bucked into your face. Taking you by surprise.

- HAECHAN

The only reason why you were waiting under your boyfriend desk was because of the stuff you over heard him and some of his mates talking about. How he would love to get head under the desk while he played a game on his computer.

“I’ve got food” you heard his voice before the door opened, Hacehan saw the empty bed and sighed. Thinking maybe you went home already with how long he was taking. Just as he was about to take his phone out, he saw you shift in your spot under the table.

“What are you doing?” You crawl out of the small spot, facing Haechan who looked so confused right now. “Well I was- I was going to surprise you with... with-“ you felt so stupid having to explain it. Hacehan had no clue what was going on in your mind.

“With? Scaring me?” You shake your head, god how you wished someone would come in and save you from the embarrassment your about to face. “I was going to suck you off while you played the game” you mumble but Haechan heard it all. Quickly smiling at your words.

“Oh really?” You could hear the teasing smirk he wore but you couldn’t let him see how red your cheeks have turned since admitting that. “Well what’s stopping you? Get back under” he waved his hands towards the desk and started walking towards it. “Your? Uh” you let out a nervous laugh.

“Don’t say your getting shy now, come on you said you wanted to” he smiled so innocently at you as he sat on his gaming chair, leaving a space for you to crawl back under. “The food will go cold” “who cares. I don’t want blue balls”

- JAEMIN

“What are you doing?” Jaemin laughed as your wondering hands made their way to his thighs. He was just peacefully laying on the bed, laptop propped up beside him as he watched some sort of drama. “Nothing” you lie before your hand starts going further up to his cock, rubbing lightly before he grabbed at your wrist.

“You have work soon” he warned as if that was going to stop you. You nod, trying to move your hand again. “Your going to be late if you start it up” he looked down at his pants which were loose around his waist. “And? It will be fine”

Jaemin wanted it tell you no, you had a job to do and last time you went in late your boss threatened your job. But as soon as you started peeling his pants off, the words in his mouth disappeared. But your mouth, your mouth was now full with him. Eyes never left his own as you licked his tip.

“Your- fuck that feels good” he moaned out, hands running through your hair and playing with it as you worked on him. Jaemin felt himself grow hard and big in your mouth and gosh it felt too good not to lift his hips to get more friction.

- YANGYANG

He has spoken to you about this before, how it would be amazing if you gave him head as he played a game. Being bored all day you decided today was the best time to do it. What you didn’t expect was YangYang to have his mic on.

So he would just have to be quite. You usually sat on the floor studying as he played his games. So he thought nothing of it as you moved closer to his legs. The shorts he wore giving away how he wasn’t wearing any boxers right now. He had no plans so it didn’t surprise you.

“Nah nah I work fair and square your just a bad player” you have no idea who he was insulting, nor did you care. Yangyang stopped moving when he felt you prying his shorts off. It was hard as he didn’t lift his hips, giving up on trying you just pull his member out.

“One second” YangYang spoke, muting himself before staring down at you. “What are you doing baby?” He laughed as you started moving your hand up his shaft. “Nothing much” you shrug as if you weren’t making him harder in your hands. “Turn the mic back on”

Yangyang widened his eyes at you, slowly shaking his head. “I don’t think the boys want to hear that” “just do it” your eyes tell him he should listen. So he does, clicking the mute off and getting back to his arguing members.

You licked the underside did his length before shoving him whole in your mouth. Yangyang stuttered his words as he tried to focus on playing. But it was rather hard when you were blowing him right now. “Holy fuck” he let out loudly, his members thinking maybe he died in the game.

- SHOTARO

“Please” he begged but you ignored him again, laying on his lap as he tried to push you off. “Your my personal pillow so no. I’m not moving” you whine back at him, moving your head on his lap as he just sighed, letting you win this time.

The movie he watched continued playing as you turned your head, meeting his crotch and a smirk grew on your face. Shotaro clearly didn’t know your thoughts even when you moved to your side, so your face was met right where his dick rested.

“Are you hungry?” He asked innocently, pulling out his phone so he could order. “I’m very hungry” you say sensually but your boyfriend was oblivious to it.

“What do you want? Chicken? Or-“ “you” you spit out making him laugh awkwardly. “Yeah well I’m not edible so-“ you scoff at him, hands running down his stomach, feeling how he shivered every time your hand got closer.

“Right here? Sungchan will be back soon and I’m sure he-“ “it’s fine baby we just need to be fast” Shotaro didn’t know why his dick was growing at your words. Does he want to get caught? While he was in his thoughts you were pulling him out of his briefs. Already getting started with your hand.

“We can always go into your room?” The boy shook his head, lifting his hips so he could push his pants down to his ankles. “Just let’s be fast” you smiled at his words. You always get what you want either way or another. “I’m sure we will be very fast”

[cinnamonrusts]

bed time with the sparda twins --

all the cuddles, fluff, and bedtime rituals with dante and vergil 💤

-- f!reader (kofi + gif not mine)

DANTE-

The ticking clock in the living room read 10:30pm. Dante yawned loudly which was followed by several loud lip smacks. You fell asleep beside him on the couch, your head rested on the back of the headrest with mouth open wide. The half demon smiles as his tired eyes observe you lovingly, even as a dribble of drool rolls down the side of your chin. How did he get so lucky? What did he do to deserve someone like you? Your gentle and attractive features highlighted the warmth that your heart radiated. 

However, waking you up unleashed the wrath that your gentle soul disguised. Dante put a hand on your thigh and gave you a light shake. You stirred slightly before drifting back to your deep slumber. Your name whispered from his lips while he gave your body another shake. Soon your eyes opened and Dante’s face came into focus. “Hey, sunshine,” he cooed, “Let’s go to bed.”

A tired smile stretched across your lips as his words filled you with love. With a stretch and a loud yawn, you took the hand that Dante lent out and the two of you climbed the stairs to the upper level.

Your bedtime routine was always the same, besides a couple of variances. Dante was the first into the bathroom, he removed all clothing besides his boxers and socks. He pasted both of your toothbrushes and set yours down on the counter where it waited for you. As he peed, he brushed his teeth and hummed the tune to Walking on Sunshine. When you joined him, you picked up the toothbrush and started to brush as Dante continued to hum happily. The two of you observed each other’s reflections in the mirror; a mixture of funny faces and giggles were exchanged.

In Dante’s room was a king sized bed that was directly in the middle of four maroon walls. The small room had one window on the right wall that allowed the pink glow of the neon sign to peak in through the blinds, this gave the bedroom a sort of warmth to it. On either side of the bed were nightstands that were decorated with personal items. Yours had a variety of skincare items, a clock, a teddy bear, and a photo of Dante, Nico, Nero, and yourself (Vergil was nice enough to take the picture). Dante’s was filled with several half empty water bottles, a scattered mess of papers, a photo of the two of you at a fair, and Ebony/Ivory. He kept them on top of his dresser to keep them accessible at all times, if anything were to happen -- keeping you safe was his priority and he felt better with them in close range. 

Other things in the room included a closet which contained your clothing and a large dresser which held Dante’s. His dresser was on the wall that faced the foot of the king sized bed, on top was a medium sized CRT television that occasionally caught signal from the busted antenna on the top of the building. 

As you finished getting ready for bed, Dante rushed into the bedroom to get the bed prepped. He pulled back the plump, black comforters, as well as taking your pillows and giving them a fluff. You stopped in the doorway of the room and leaned against the frame with a smile on your lips as you watched the Sparda man prep your bed. The floorboards squeaked as you shifted your weight which caught his attention - he stopped immediately then spun around with a smile. “Bed’s all ready,” he took a small step toward you, which you took one toward him. Dante then charged into your waist, his arms wrap tightly around your small frame. He lifts you up in the air with ease before resting your body over his right shoulder. Dante slides toward the bed and proceeds to drop you lightly onto the springy mattress.

The white haired male lowers himself down over you with hands on each side of your head. He’s quiet besides the same smile that he’s been wearing all night. “Hi,” you say quietly, “Hey,” he responds. Your skin can feel the warmth of his breath against it which causes goosebumps to rise. Soon his lips are pressed against yours. His kisses always start soft and sweet before growing hungrier with each touch. His white teeth are biting at your lower lip, his tongue is wrestles for dominance inside of your mouth. Dante’s palms that were supporting his weight are now roaming your body as he feels every curve while your fingers stroke his chin stubble. You can feel his boxers rise against your thigh but before anything can move any further, he stops.

Dante pulls away and cups your cheek with his rough palm. His thumb strokes your skin softly as his blue orbs take in your e/c eyes. He suggests that the two of you crawl under the covers and get comfortable. You agree and crawl to the side of the bed where you normally slept, Dante joining you on the other side while draping the blankets over your frames. His strong arm wraps around you and pulls you close to his bare chest. Your head rests on his warm skin and you can feel his heartbeat slow from the quickened pace that it was beating at. Dante turns on the television and flips through several channels of static before stopping on a late night re-run of a comedy movie. You can feel your eyes getting heavy with each blink.

Light snores vibrate in your throat as you fell asleep again on your partner. He can hear them over the sound of the movie and his eyes look down to the side at you. Your expression is peaceful, and the rise then fall of your body is slow and steady. Dante smiles again and thinks again about how lucky he is to be where he is right now. He was hoping for a blowjob, but this is okay too... That could always happen later.

When the two of you sleep, it is a battle for the bed. Despite being a king size, the two of you take up a considerable amount of space for the rather large mattress. Dante is a stomach sleeper and sleeps with his legs spread out wide. A part of his body always needs to be touching you, so that he knows that you’re always there beside him. He’s afraid of something happening to you while he’s asleep or when he wakes up in the morning, you’ll be gone. So, either his foot is touching your leg or his palm is on your breast. 

You often sleep on your back with legs and arms spread out. The back of your hand or palm usually rests on the back of Dante’s head (or his face). Your leg that isn’t touching Dante’s often dangles off the side and falls asleep, which then wakes you up with the annoying tingling feeling that doesn’t go away until you shake it. The devil hunter likes sleeping with the tv on and enjoys the feeling of waking up in the dark to see an infomercial about cleaning products playing. While you like sleeping in the dark, the hue of the neon signs outside give you a relaxed feeling that you cannot explain. 

Despite your differences in your sleeping conditions -- the two of you wait for the other to wake up in the mornings. Usually you’re the first to fall asleep and the first to wake up, but sometimes Dante beats you in the mornings. He doesn’t have difficulty falling asleep but does staying asleep, during the night his dreams often wake him and he has trouble shaking them off. So, if he wakes up early, he will wait for you. You wait for him as well. Whoever is first -- either of you will face the other and enjoy the peacefulness of quiet morning and the way that the sun shines into the room. Dante feels excited every time you wake up and your blinks are slow but the way that the sun shines off of your e/c irises fill him with a warmth that he doesn’t fully wrap his head around. 

Dante doesn’t wake up as peaceful as you do. It’s often with eyelids opening quickly and glazed over eyes from either not enough or too much sleep. His morning breath is atrocious but comforting at the same time. It is a stench that you’ve grown to love - some may think it’s odd but love is an odd thing.

As he stretches, he rolls onto his side and pulls you close to him again as you managed to wiggle free during the night. His hand is on the small of your back as you prop yourself up on your elbows with your hands under your chin. Dante grins,

“Good morning, snore-ass,” he says with a yawn, “Good morning, shit breath,” you reply with a smile.

VERGIL-

It is late at night and you’re already in bed but are not accompanied by Vergil. You stir under the sheet that laid across your body, your legs search for the strong calves of your mate. But the bed is absent of the half demon man. You push yourself up from the bed and squint as you scan the dark room. The walls are a light shade of grey and two windows sit directly in front of you, the moonlight peaks from between two curtains and highlights an empty chair where Vergil normally sat with his book.

“He must be downstairs,” you speak as you drape a robe over your nude frame. The hallway is empty and dark when you exit your shared bedroom. Down the hall is the room of his brother, Dante, and sounds of his television blare from behind his closed door. He wouldn’t be in there, it’s too late in the night.  You peer over the side of the balcony to the floor below and see Vergil sitting at his brother’s desk with book in hand.

It wasn’t uncommon for you to wake up without the elder Sparda brother accompanying you. Things kept him awake at night and he was usually reluctant to reveal what they were, despite being in a relationship together for several years. He informed you about his mother, Eva, and that fateful day that separated his fate from the one of Dante’s - but that was about it.

Vergil hears your creaking as you walk down the steps and acknowledges your presence, “You should be sleeping,” he says with his book raised to eye level. “Waking up alone gets old, Vergil.” you slowly approach him and notice that he’s shirtless still from your love making that occurred earlier in the night. The moonlight shines in from a window and accents his muscular body in all the correct ways.

 He is silent for a moment before he apologizes. You accept it and lightly wrap your arms around his neck from behind and your fingertips lightly run across his strong pectorals. “Did you have another dream?” you whisper next to his ear. He had been having issues with dreaming about his corruption and the loss of his mother, which leads up to losing you. Your hand raises to his ear and tickles his skin, but Vergil takes your digits in his palm and squeezes. “Let’s return to our bedroom,” he pushes back from the desk and stands.

The Sparda man feels guilty for leaving you again, especially after having sex because your cuddling was cut short when he got up and left. Vergil suddenly scoops you up from your feet, his strong arms pull your close to his body and he walks up the stairs. You look up to his face with a warmth lingering in your cheeks, you can see his handsome features even in the dark. His eyes are focused on what was in front of him and when he reached the landing, they fell onto you. He smiles slightly as he pushes the bedroom door open with his foot.

The room isn’t large but is perfect for the two of you to live comfortably in. On the wall to the right was a large dresser that held both of your clothing. Decorating the top of it was a photo of the two of you, Dante and Vergil, then a painting of you two hung on the wall about the furniture. In a vase was a wilted rose that Vergil had given to you on your first official date, it was frail and broken but most petal remained, it was sentimental nonetheless. The largest piece of furniture was an ornate bookshelf that held a collection of works that Vergil admired. You actually found it in an antique store and used the remaining money you had for the month to purchase it for him. When he received your gift, you could’ve sworn you saw tears well in his eyes but he quickly embraced you tightly and thanked you with a passionate kiss. There was no television in your room but there was a small radio that you listened to often when you would clean up while Vergil read his poems in the chair by the window. He enjoyed listening to you sing and hum to the music while he read, his eyes would occasionally raise from the literature to watch you.

You think that he is going to lay you on the bed but he takes you into the bathroom that is connected to the bedroom instead. Your normal bedtime routine involved you sitting on the toilet brushing your teeth while Vergil stood in front of the sink doing the same. He was very vigilant about his oral health, so he took twice as long as you to brush. You always gotta bump him out of the way with your hip, so that you could spit out the foam that was filling your cheeks to the brim. Vergil always set out two things of floss and two bottles of mouth wash. “His and hers!” you called it. Skincare masks were your favorite weekly routine because it meant that you could paint his face with black mud. He would scoff but let you have your fun, however, he was unhappy when you captured a photographic memory of it.

Vergil seats you down on the closed toilet lid and turns to dig in the lower cabinet. “What’re you doing?” you ask but he doesn’t answer. When he turns around, there is a bottle of body lotion in his hand. He pumps several globs of white cream into his palm before resting on his knees, he waddles toward you and takes the lower half of your leg in his empty hand. His rough palm with the lotion begins to spread the lotion on your soft skin. The other hand joins as they travel up and down your appendage, he begins giving you a massage. Vergil raises your calf to his face and presses his lips against it, giving you several loving kisses. He then presses his nose to your muscle and breathes you in. Kissing, feeling, and smelling your body creates an overwhelming sensation of love and gratitude to fill his body, he wants to show you how much he appreciates everything you have done for him.

You hum in pleasure as he massages but when he stops and kisses your leg, you lean over to run your fingers through his white hair. His blue orbs flicker up and meet yours, the silence remains as no words are needed to explain the intimacy between you both.

After he is done, he picks you up again and takes you to the bed.

When it is time to sleep, Your bed is a queen size which is just enough room for two people, which worked out well because Vergil holds you tight to his side. He is a side sleeper and mostly rests on his right half. You lay nestled into the bend of his body with your back side facing his front. Vergil’s left arm holds onto your waist and his ankles are linked onto yours. Vergil enjoys resting this way because when he feels horny, you can feel his member in his pants and he has easy access to your heat. Resting over your bodies was a light silver sheet which sometimes had a white quilt accompanying it, but Vergil enjoyed feeling cool at night. (being snuggled up to a half demon turned out to be warmer than you thought) and you were one to enjoy being snuggled up in a fluffy blanket. The two of you compromise and often rotate the coverings for your shared bed.

Being held tight to Vergil’s body is comforting which upsets you when he leaves you during the night. Once he left and did not return for several days which meant you laid alone at night wondering where he had gone off to. But he did return, then held you tight again to his body. He whispered promises that no matter what -- he would be there to hold you. 

Just as Vergil wakes up during the night, he is the first to wake in the morning as well. It is his favorite time because he can watch you sleep in your most innocent nature. Normally your back faces him but in the morning he releases your body and you almost immediately roll onto your back. Vergil can see your eyes flicker side to side under your closed lids and ponders about what you dream about.

The whole building is quiet because it is way too early for Dante to be awake. So, Vergil takes advantage of it to also reflect on things while he watches you sleep. These things involve his goals which both include personal ones and those that involve you. He reflects on his past, present, and even future. Vergil thinks about what could become of your relationship and it fills him with joy and anxiety.

He never wakes you but simply remains patient for you to wake on your own (unless there are morning plans) When you do, he releases his crossed brows and a small smile forms on his lips. His hand raises and holds yours, “Good morning, darling,” he says, “Good morning, sweetheart,” you reply. Your stomach growls in between of your sweet words which prompt an unison chuckle, “Let me bring you breakfast,” he offers and pushes himself up.