#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

[iuchamjohta]

Sex Swinger Cruise Part 1 Ft Yuna and Jieun

6497 words

Tags: Foursome, bdsm, exhibitionist, mutual masturbation, anal , DP (Sort of), footjob, petplay, bi.

Didnt proof read this, enjoy, not sure how many parts I will write. but as always give comments likes or anything.

The soft glow of sunlight streamed through your curtains. With a groan, you roll over, reluctantly pulling yourself out of bed. “Fuck, my head hurts” The effects of yesterday hungover was still evident from the amount you drank. The world feels fuzzy as you shuffle to the kitchen, rubbing your eyes and battling the urge to crawl back under the covers.

You pour yourself a steaming cup of coffee, the rich aroma slowly waking up your senses. As you take your first sip, the warmth spreads through you, pushing back the grogginess just a bit. With your mug in hand, you plop down at your cluttered desk and open your laptop, the screen flickering to life.

As you scroll through your emails, half-heartedly scanning the usual promotional messages and updates, something catches your eye—a bright, official-looking email with a subject line that makes your heart race: “Exclusive Invitation: K-Pop Swingers Party!” It was classified as a top secret document that needed your work credentials to open. 

You blink twice, half-expecting it to disappear. But there it is, vivid and undeniable. Probably another fucking scam, you rolled your eyes. It seems too good to be true, a potential scam preying on hopeful fans. Just as you're about to close the email, something makes you pause. Your eyes scan down to the signature at the bottom, and your heart skips a beat: “Jieun.”

Jieun—the idol you’ve adored for years, the one whose music has accompanied you through countless moments of joy and sorrow. She signed off the invitation. Your skepticism melts away, replaced by a rush of excitement. This isn’t just any invitation; it’s a chance to be part of something extraordinary, possibly even a chance to meet her.

With your fingers trembling you quickly keyed your credentials opening the docuement. The email details an upcoming sex swinger party for selected K-pop groups in the 2024-2025 edition. The timeline outlined a week-long program filled with performances and offered an open invitation for select photographers to capture the festivities. 

The party is set to take place on one of the most luxurious cruise ships in the world, renowned for its luxurious amenities and breathtaking ocean views. Your fingers tremble as you scrolled, reading the instructions to bring your camera to capture exclusive footage of the event. 

As a junior photographer in the K-Pop industry, you’ve spent countless hours honing your craft, capturing shots as best as you could of celebrities. Though your work has garnered some attention online, you have always been rather under the radar. You were appreciative of this opportunity.

Further down, you notice a clause about confidentiality: “By accepting this invitation, you agree that all images taken during the event cannot be disclosed elsewhere without prior consent. Failure to comply will result in death.”

Your heart races as you realize you’ll need to sign your acceptance of these terms. “Death” you could understand the seriousness , as any leakage would destroy all of the idol's image. Without hesitation you signed the disclosure. 

The thought of being on a luxury cruise with your favorite idols feels surreal. Your mind races with possibilities: capturing candid shots of their candidness, documenting behind-the-scenes moments, and most importantly uncovering the true personalities behind their polished images, the true depravity hidden in them.

You feel your cock hardened against your boxers, as your mind drifts to your fantasies. 

After a moment of silence, you begin gathering your gear , carefully checking each lens and memory card making sure you had more than enough space to capture footage.

When the day finally arrives,you arrive at the designated port early and step aboard the luxury cruise ship after showing your invitation to the security.

The moment you enter, you’re struck by the beauty of the interior: elegant chandeliers hang from the ceilings and how spacious the whole ship actually is. You take a moment to soak it all in, your heart racing at the thought of what’s to come.

Remembering the schedule, you check your phone and see that the opening ceremony is about to begin. You decide to head to your room first to drop off your gear and freshen up. The corridors are lined with plush carpets, and as you make your way to your suite, you can’t help but admire the luxurious touches everywhere—marble accents, golden fixtures, and vibrant flowers that add a touch of warmth to the elegant design.

Once you reach your room, you unlock the door and step inside. The space is even more breathtaking than you imagined: a spacious layout with a large window offering a panoramic view of the ocean.  You quickly set your camera bag down and take a moment to breathe before assembling your full camera gear to capture the opening event. 

Doing a quick refresh, you check your reflection, ensuring you look both stylish and casual. You grab your camera and make your way back to the main deck where the opening ceremony is set to take place. 

The main deck was ridiculously spacious. A massive stage dominates the area, with many big screens around that would capture the stage shows.

You scan the crowd, your heart racing at the sight of some of the biggest names in K-pop gathered in one place. Members of G-IDLE are chatting cutely nearby, dressed in their skimpy summer outfits from klaxton.

You catch glimpses of IVE, effortlessly exuding confidence with their stylish outfits. Aespa is clustered together, each member looking stunning in cocktail dresses. Not too far off, you spot Red Velvet, their playful energy a stark contrast to the elegance around them. And there’s ITZY, radiating friendliness and charm as they greet fans and fellow idols. Tons of other people were here, some managers, some fans but mostly people you have not seen. 

Everywhere you look, the members are as beautiful as you imagined and you quickly snapped a few shorts. But amidst the excitement, you realize you haven’t seen Jieun anywhere. A slight twinge of disappointment hits you, but you quickly push it aside, focusing instead on the spectacle unfolding before you.

Suddenly, the lights dim, and a hush falls over the crowd. A sense of anticipation fills the air, and you grip your camera tightly, ready for what’s to come. Then, out of nowhere, a spotlight beams down onto the stage, illuminating the figure standing in its glow.

Your heart skips a beat as you finally spotted Jieun, looking absolutely radiant. Dressed in a stunning outfit that sparkles under the lights, she stands with grace and confidence, her smile brightening the entire deck. The crowd erupts into cheers, and you instinctively raise your camera, capturing the moment.

As the cheers of the crowd settle, Jieun steps forward to the microphone, her presence commanding the attention of everyone on deck. She beams at the audience, her energy infectious, and you can’t help but feel a rush of excitement.

“Hello, everyone! Welcome aboard our luxury cruise for what promises to be an unforgettable week!” she says, her voice filled with mischief. The crowd erupts in applause, and you quickly snap a few candid shots of her glowing with enthusiasm.

We have an incredible lineup of events planned for you, from exciting games and performances to meet-and-greets with your favourite artists,” she continues, her eyes sparkling with joy.

As she gestures toward the expansive deck, she explains the layout. “To your left, we have the pool area, perfect for relaxing and soaking up the sun. Over there, to the right, is the lounge where you can unwind and grab some refreshments. And don’t forget to check out the dining hall, where we’ll be serving delicious meals throughout our journey!”

Jieun’s smile widens as she continues her orientation. “Now, beyond the common areas, we have some exciting options for those of you looking for a more unique experience!”

She gestures toward the screen showcasing a series of beautifully decorated doors lining the corridor. “You can book private rooms for gatherings or even themed rooms tailored to specific fantasies!”

“ You can even request any type of additional toys and equipment and it will be delivered to your room. “ She gives a wink with that last remark.

Jieun’s eyes sparkle with excitement as she leans in closer to the microphone, as if sharing a secret. “Now, I have to let you in on a little secret: the most exciting themed rooms are located at the top few levels of the ship,” she says, and the audience leans forward in anticipation. 

“But there’s a catch!” she adds with a teasing smile. “Access to these exclusive rooms comes with earning your rights. How? You may ask.” 

With a playful glint in her eyes, Jieun clicks a button on the podium, and suddenly, a flurry of lights dances around the crowd. The crowd gasps as each of their guest’s access card illuminates and materializes a holographic display in mid-air.

“Welcome to your personalized adventure!” she announces.The holograms shimmer and shift, revealing each guest's unique access card. As you look closer, you see various levels displayed, each indicating the rights and privileges you’ve earned.

“Each card comes with specific missions you can complete throughout the week,” Jieun explains. “These missions range from fun challenges to interactive games, and completing them will unlock higher levels of access to the exclusive themed rooms at the top of the ship!” 

Your heart races as you see different missions pop up on your card. There were a range of tamed activities like “Capture a selfie with your favourite idol” “participate in the talent show” “Join a themed scavenger hunt” to things that were more explicit like “Pleasure 5 females” “paint someone’s face with your cum” “willingly serve an idol till they are satisfied” 

The list was endless and you can’t help but feel a rush of excitement at the possibilities. Jieun points to the holographic display. “The more you participate, the more rights you earn! Levels range from ‘Explorer’ to ‘VIP,’ with each level granting access to even more exclusive experiences. Who’s ready to level up?” Jieun added which enticed a roar from the crowd.

As the excitement of the opening ceremony swirls around you, you take a quick look at your holographic access card, which still hovers brightly in front of you. The word “Explorer” is emblazoned across the top, and below it, a clear breakdown of the different tiers unfolds.

Taking a quick summary, the break down was 

Explorer: Basic access to common areas and entry-level missions. Perfect for first-timers. 

Adventurer: Unlocks additional activities and some themed rooms with opportunities for one-on-one interactions

Trailblazer: Grants access to exclusive events and private closed events with idols. Can initiate private bookings with Idols

VIP: The highest level, providing full access to all themed rooms, private events, and special perks throughout the cruise.Can even call for idols below your tier to service you.

As you study your holographic access card, you notice something intriguing above the VIP level: there are additional tiers, but they are currently blocked, shrouded in mystery. The words “Exclusive Access” flash briefly before fading away, leaving you curious.

As you take a quick glance around the deck, you notice that many of the idols seem to be at the Trailblazer or even VIP levels. 

“Time to earn my stripes,” you murmur to yourself, tucking the holograph back into your pocket, ready to embrace whatever comes next.

Jieun pauses, looking around at the audience who were playing around with the holographic before her angelic voice captured the audience again. 

“Make sure you are always ready– you never know what surprises will come.”

You were curious how much all of this cost, probably a few millions and to find out that it is an annual event is rather shocking to you.  

As your thoughts wander off, Jieun steps back up to the microphone, her expression glowing with enthusiasm. “Alright, everyone! It’s time for the main event!” she announces, her voice ringing out over the deck.

The crowd erupts into cheers, the anticipation palpable as everyone shifts their focus to the stage. You can feel the energy crackling in the air, and you raise your camera, ready to capture the moment. With that, the lights dim and after a few minutes it comes on again.

Jieun has changed her outfit.  The petite singer with an angelic face, now exuded a dominant presence. 

She was every inch the sexual goddess, dressed in a black leather corset, fishnet stockings, and knee-high boots that emphasised her slender legs. Her long, cascaded over her shoulders, contrasting with her pale skin. IU held two leather leashes in her hands, a mischievous smile playing on her lips as she surveyed the room.

Her eyes rested momentarily on your captivated gaze. With a playful wink she once again addresses the audience, her persona different now. Her stage presence is no joke as it commands the attention of every person in the room. 

“Welcome my naughty playmates. Tonight, I have a special treat for you all. But first, let me introduce my beautiful assistant, Yuna."

Yuna, a stunning redhead with an hourglass figure, stepped into the spotlight. She was already fully naked and the crowd's attention shifted to admire her body.

"Yuna here is a little shy," Jieun continued, "But I'm going to help her overcome her inhibitions. Aren't I, sweetheart?" Yuna nodded nervously, her eyes darting around the room, taking in the hungry stares of the audience.

As she spoke, the curtains behind parted , and a table was rolled into the centre of the stage. On it, a custom-made sybian rider stood tall, its sleek black surface glistening under the stage lights. This mechanical pleasure device was the centerpiece of the show, designed to bring intense orgasms to whoever rode it. Jieun approached the sybian, her steps graceful and confident.

With practiced ease, Jieun secured Yuna to the sybian rider, binding her wrists and ankles with soft silk ropes, ensuring she couldn't escape the impending pleasure. The crowd cheered as they witnessed the vulnerable position Yuna was in, completely at Jieun's mercy. Yuna’s nipples hardeend under the gaze of the eager crowd. 

Meanwhile you were capturing as many shots as you can as a treasure trove to keep. Your breath caught in your throat as you feast your eyes on Yuna's beauty. Her long red hair fell in waves over her shoulders, framing her flawless face. 

The curves of her body were accentuated by the binds to the sybian that forced her to arch backwards slightly pushing her chest forward. This position emphasised her full breasts and the swell of her hips. You could feel your raging erection already. 

Jieun circled the sybian, running her fingers along Yuna's bound body, teasing her captive. She leaned in close, whispering something in Yuna's ear that made the redhead's cheeks flush with desire. 

"Now, my dear Yuna, let's see how well you can handle this machine," Jieun purred, her fingers trailing along Yuna's inner thighs, making the redhead squirm. With a flick of a switch, the sybian rider came to life.

The machine started at a slow, gentle pace, its vibrations humming softly. Yuna's eyes fluttered shut, and a soft moan escaped her lips as the sensations began to build. IU stood by her side, stroking Yuna's hair, her touch both comforting and arousing.

As the sybian's intensity increased, Yuna's moans grew louder, filling the room with erotic music. Her hips began to move in rhythm with the machine, her body arching and undulating as the pleasure coursed through her. IU watched with satisfaction, her eyes gleaming with the power she held over her submissive partner. 

Clicking onto another control button, the Sybian’s dildo started thrusting upwards, pushing its way into Yuna’s cunt, making sloppy sounds as it entered.  

"Let's make this more interesting," Jieun announced to the crowd, her voice dripping with sensuality. "Who here has the skill to pleasure a goddess while I tend to my pet?"

Two men stepped forward from the audience, their eyes locked on IU with a mixture of desire and awe. One was tall and muscular, with dark hair, and the other was lean and tattooed. Both were eager to serve IU's pleasure.

Jieun attached the collar and leash she held in her hand to each of the men, and they obediently dropped to their knees. Undressing her black leather corset, she was now naked but with her boots and stockings still on , which made her even more sexy. 

Tugging on the leash, the dark-haired man was made to position himself behind Jieun. Jieun grinds her ass on his face as his tongue willingly traced circles around her tight asshole. Meanwhile the tattooed man dove between her legs, his mouth seeking her swollen clit.

The crowd roared with approval as Jieun let out a moan of pleasure, her body trembling under the skilled attention of her oral servants. She gripped the leashes tightly, controlling their movements as they pleasured her.

While Jieun savored the sensations, she never took her eyes off Yuna, who was now riding the sybian in her restricted room of motion. The redhead's body shook as she chased her orgasm, her cries filling the room. Jieun reached out, pinching Yuna's nipples between her fingers, twisting and pulling them gently, heightening her pleasure even further.

Yuna's breath came in gasps as she neared the edge of release. Jieun however knew exactly how to push her submissive to the brink, only to pull her back just before the climax. With a cruel smile, IU reduced the sybian's speed, denying Yuna the orgasm she so desperately craved.

"Please... let me cum," Yuna begged.

"Not yet, my pet. We're just getting started. Cant ruin the show now can we? " Jieun chuckled in response.

The men servicing Jieun were relentless in their efforts, their tonguesl were working in perfect harmony. IU's moans grew louder, her body shaking as she neared her own climax. She tugged on the leashes, urging her oral slaves to give her more, to drive her to the edge.

As Jieun's orgasm built, so did Yuna's. The sybian's vibrations increased once more, and Jieun released Yuna's nipples, moving her hands down to her sensitive pussy. She plunged two fingers deep inside Yuna's wetness alongside the dildo, finding her G-spot and massaging it with expert precision and stretching her fully. 

Yuna's body trembled uncontrollably, her eyes rolling back as the pleasure became almost unbearable. She screamed, her voice raw and primal, as she could no longer hold her orgasm which finally exploded within her. Her pussy clenched around Jieun's fingers, and she squirted, her juices gushing onto the stage, splashing the front row of the audience.

The crowd went wild, cheering and whistling as Yuna's orgasmic convulsions continued. Jieun, still being pleasured by her devoted men, watched with satisfaction as her submissive's body shook and quivered.

Jieun’s own release was building, her breath coming in short gasps. She tugged on the leashes, signaling her slaves to increase their efforts. The dark-haired man drove his tongue deep into IU's ass , swirling his tongue to taste every inch of her walls. Meanwhile the tattooed man sucked on her clit, and thrusted two fingers into her throbbing cunt, bringing her to the brink.

"Yes... yes... YES!" Jieun cried out, her body convulsing as her orgasm hit her like a wave. Her juices flowed, coating the faces of her devoted servants as they continued to pleasure her through her climax.

“Naughty girl, cumming without my permission” Jieun coming back to her senses and flicked the switch to increase the sybian speed once again

The sybian's relentless rhythm continued to pulsate through Yuna's body, the dildo thrusting deep into her wet pussy, each movement sending waves of pleasure coursing through her veins. 

Jieun, the insatiable singer, stood before the crowd , her eyes gleaming with lust. With a firm grip on the leashes, she commanded the two men who had been worshipping her body, "Serve Yuna now”

Obediently, the men redirected their attention to the bound redhead. The dark hair man stepped forward, his cock throbbing eagerly. Jieun guided him to Yuna's luscious ass, spreading her cheeks with her delicate fingers exposing her delicate rosebud hidden beneath the valleys. 

"Take her here instead," she instructed

The man positioned himself behind Yuna, his cockhead pressing against her tight asshole. With a gentle push, he entered her, eliciting a moan of pleasure from Yuna's lips. It was tough to push through given how tight it was and he stayed in that position for a moment to give Yuna time to adjust. 

Simultaneously, the other tattooed man, approached Yuna's face, his cock already glistening with pre-cum. Jieun urged him forward, and he plunged his throbbing length into Yuna's waiting mouth. Yuna's eyes rolled back as she accommodated the thick shaft, her lips sliding along the veiny surface. The tatooed man held her head firmly, thrusting his hips in a steady rhythm, face fucking the bound beauty.

Jieun, ever the exhibitionist, couldn't resist joining the erotic display. She stepped closer to Yuna, her fingers trailing along the redhead's sweat-glistening body. With a playful smirk, IU spanked Yuna's ass, the sound echoing through the room, causing the audience to gasp in delight. "Such a good girl," IU purred, her hand moving to her own pussy, stroking her clit as she watched the men use Yuna's body.

The men's movements became more frantic as they neared their climax. The dark-haired man fucking her ass was well adjusted and had began increasing the speed of his thrust as well, plunging deep into her tight ass. Yuna's body trembled, her pussy clenching around the sybian's dildo, her ass tightening around the dark-haired man's cock. She was being airtight filled and every thrust of both men only pushed her deeper into the other’s cock.

Sensing their impending release, Jieun dropped to her knees, tugging at the men's cocks, urging them to empty their loads. The dark-haired man groaned, his hips thrusting wildly as he filled Yuna's ass with his hot cum. Simultaneously, the tattooed pulled out of Yuna's mouth, his cock pulsating as Jieun stroked him with expert hands. He aimed his throbbing head at Jieun's mouth, and with a final stroke, he exploded, his cum shooting onto Jieun's tongue. 

Jieun savored the taste of his release, her eyes closing in pleasure. She swallowed, then opened her eyes, meeting Yuna's gaze. With a mischievous smile, she dove into Yuna’s asshole and ate the cum right out of it, cleaning her completely. 

Then moving up, she leaned forward and kissed Yuna, their lips locking in a passionate embrace. The crowd roared as they witnessed the cum swap, the women’s tongues intertwining sharing the essence of the male slaves. 

Pulling away, Jieun untied Yuna from the sybian helping her weakened body off it. The crowd applauded at the incredible performance. 

‘"That was incredible," Yuna breathed, her eyes fixed on Jieun's petite frame. "I've never been used like that before." IU grinned, her fingers trailing along Yuna's collarbone. "You were amazing, my dear.” 

“Can I return the favour unnie” Yuna pleaded looking at Jieun with her big puppy eyes.  

“What do you have in mind?” Without answering with her words, Yuna stepped closer, her hands roamed over Jieun full breast, before taking one of the hardened buds into her mouth , eagerly sucking on them, eliciting a moan from Jieun. 

“I want to taste you Unnie” With that she guided Jieun onto the table and pushed her thighs apart as she knelt down so that her face was on eye level with IU’s pussy. 

Yuna’s fingers dove into the wet folds, eliciting another sharp moan from the petite girl. Soon her tongue replaced her fingers lapping eagerly at Jieun’s swollen clit. Throughout the whole session, Yuna's pleasure was prioritised and she wanted to pay back her Unnie well. 

Yuna’s tongue was so good that Jieun began thrusting her hips forward to meet Yuna’s mouth, her hands gripping scratching the table surface as Yuna continued to lap eagerly to drive her towards the edge. The room filled with the sounds of their pleasure—Jieun’s moans and Yuna's soft, wet noises as she devoured her partner.

As Jieun’s orgams built, Yuna mischievously inserted a finger into her tight asshole , causing the sexual goddess to cry out.

“Oh , Yuna! Yes, just like that” 

Jieun's body convulsed, her pussy clenching around Yuna's tongue as she came, her juices flowing freely.

Yuna continued to lap at Jieun's sensitive clit, prolonging her pleasure. When Jieun finally collapsed, her body trembling, Yuna crawled up her length, their bodies aligning. 

“You’re so beautiful” Yuna whispered, her lips finding Jieun again in another passionate kiss. 

With that the curtains closed on the stage. As the curtains closed, the audience erupted into applause, their cheers echoing through the venue. You check your camera footage which had now been switched to video mode and it was a good 30 minutes of crazy footage. You were satisfied and couldn't wait to review them.

When Jieun reappeared she was dressed in a tight white dress. She clapped her hands and exclaimed, "Let the party begin!" Her excitement was infectious, and soon everyone was buzzing with energy. Friends gathered, laughter filled the air, and people were downing drinks. You see couples moving off to their own rooms and some idols picking up some men here and there. It was too much to keep track of everything.

As you sip on your drink, your eyes wander across the room, taking in the lavish decorations and the beautiful people. You were wondering where to start when you spotted Jieun, your favourite idol. She's standing by the buffet table, her slender legs accentuated by a tight fitting dress. You can't help but notice her, and your gaze lingers a little too long.

Unbeknownst to you, Jieun has caught you staring, and a mischievous smile plays on her lips. She finishes her conversation with a group of admirers and begins to make her way through the crowd, heading straight in your direction. Your heart races as she approaches, her hips swaying gracefully with each step.

"You've been staring at me all night, even when I'm on stage" she purrs.

“Who would not, Jieun you are fucking gorgeous” you instinctively replied. 

 “Time to get better acquainted then” Before you can respond, she takes your hand, her touch sending a jolt of electricity through your body. You allow yourself to be led away, your desire overwhelming any resistance. IU guides you through a side door, away from the bustling party to the front of a secret elevator.

As Jieun reached into her pocket, she pulled out an eye-catching access card, black and gold. The words "Queen Card" were elegantly embossed on it. She smiled, holding it up playfully. “Looks like I’ve got the royal treatment,” she teased, winking at you. With a flick of her wrist, she swiped the card at the elevator and pressed the top floor. 

“Top floor” damn you wondered what kind of privileges Jieun had. The elevator door opened to reveal an exclusive lounge filled with plush seating and ambient lighting. “Welcome to my kingdom,” she said, stepping inside. 

The room is expansive, with high ceilings adorned with intricate chandeliers that cast a warm, golden glow. Plush, deep-colored sofas are arranged invitingly around a sleek, modern coffee table, and rich tapestries hang on the walls, adding an air of elegance. 

In one corner, there’s a small bar area stocked with an array of top-shelf liquors, colourful glassware catching the light. In another corner of the room, a sleek, large-screen monitor is mounted discreetly. As you admire the space, Jieun casually gestures toward it, and with a soft beep, the monitor glides down effortlessly from the ceiling, filling the wall with a crisp, vibrant display. 

You noticed nobody else was here and remembered that even within VIP , when you had clicked on it earlier you were unable to view further information and only showed you restricted access. Queencard was definitely not one of those tiers.

“Let’s review some of the footage you captured shall we?” As you stand beside her you could only produce a nod still captivated by her beauty. She was a vision of perfection and you did not fully process what she meant until you subconsciously took out the SD card and handed it over to her.

“Wait what” You snapped back to reality, you were amused at how much control this woman had over you. 

Jieun's fingers dance across the remote control, and the large screen in the room flickers to life. The footage is crystal clear, a close-up of her naked body, writhing in ecstasy. 

The footage shows that most of the focus of the entire video was on her even when Yuna was being pleasured by the two men. You were embarrassed having failed at your professionality and letting your biasness shaped your filming. 

As the video plays, you witness IU's hands gliding over her own body, her fingers teasing her nipples, causing them to harden. Her moans fill the room, soft and breathy, as she touches herself, building up the tension.

Your eyes are glued to the screen, and alternated between her and the screen watching her every move. You see IU's hand disappear between her thighs, and she begins to rub her pussy lips slowly, her fingers dipping into her wetness. The sight of her masturbating is incredibly arousing, and you feel your cock twitch in response. You reach down and start stroking yourself, unable to resist the urge to touch your hardening length.

IU notices your action and lets out a soft, sultry laugh. "Oh, baby, you like what you see?"

"Go ahead, stroke that cock for me. But remember, I'm in control tonight."

You continue to pleasure yourself, your strokes becoming more urgent as the video progresses. IU's fingers work their magic on her clit, and she arches her back, her moans growing louder. She's a vision of pleasure, and you desperately want to join her.

"I bet you want to fuck me, don't you?" She teases, her eyes never leaving the screen. "You want to pound this tight pussy of mine. But not yet, you have to earn your rights to the VIP tier first” 

With those words, she pauses the video, leaving the image of her fingers buried deep in her pussy imprinted on the screen. IU turns to you, her eyes sparkling with lust. She takes your hand and places it on her waist, guiding it lower until your fingers brush against the soft skin of her inner thigh.

"Start here," she whispers, her breath hot against your ear. "Worship my legs, kiss and lick every inch of them. Make me feel your devotion."

You kneel before her, your cock throbbing as you gaze up at her beautiful face. Her legs are toned and smooth, a perfect canvas for your worship. You start by gently kissing the sensitive skin behind her knees, feeling her muscles quiver under your touch. Slowly, you work your way up, kissing and sucking on her inner thighs, leaving a trail of wetness with your mouth. Slowly, you work your way up, kissing and sucking on her inner thighs, leaving a trail of wetness with your mouth.

Jieun’s breath becomes ragged as your lips get closer to her core. She pulls away and sticks out her perfect feet , giving you a full view of them. Her toes are slender and delicate. 

"Suck my toes," she instructs, her voice husky with desire. "Show me how much you've been craving this."

You lean forward, your mouth watering at the prospect. You take her big toe between your lips, sucking gently at first, then with increasing fervor. Her taste—had a unique flavor which sends shivers of pleasure through you. You move to the next toe, lavishing attention on each one, savoring the feel of her against your tongue.

IU lets out a soft moan, her eyes fluttering closed as she enjoys the sensations. "That's it... suck them clean," she encourages, her breath coming in short gasps.

You obey eagerly, taking each toe into your mouth, using your tongue to clean her and leaving them glistening with your saliva. Your hands roam up her calves, squeezing the firm muscle there, as you continue to worship her feet.

Moving lower, you go to her soles. Sliding your tongue along the smooth arch of her foot, relishing the taste of her skin. You work your way to the heel, paying attention to every inch, until her entire foot is glistening with your devotion. 

“That's it, you're doing so well," she praises, running her fingers through your hair. Pulling you higher up through your hair, Your tongue finally reaches the junction where her thigh meets her pussy. You pause as if waiting for permission.

“Go ahead you have earned the right to taste me” 

You can't resist dipping your tongue into her warm, wet folds. Jieun tastes like heaven, her juices flowing freely as you tease her clit with gentle flicks of your tongue. She bucks her hips, pushing her pussy into your face, seeking more pleasure.

"Oh fuck, yes! Eat me, baby," she cries out, her hands gripping your hair, urging you closer.

You feast on her, lapping up her sweetness, exploring every crease and crevice of her pussy. IU's moans fill the room, a mixture of pleasure and desperation. Her legs tremble as she teeters on the edge of orgasm, and she pulls you closer, grinding her pussy against your mouth.

"I'm gonna cum... oh god, I'm cumming!" she shouts, her body shaking uncontrollably.

Her orgasm hits like a wave, and you feel her juices flow over your tongue, a sweet reward for your devotion. IU collapses against you, her body trembling as the pleasure subsides. She smiles down at you, her eyes filled with satisfaction.

"That was incredible," she breathes, stroking your hair. “I have another treat for you” 

Jieun shoves you through your chest down onto the floor and straddles your laps. Then she hovers over your face, her bare pussy hovering just above your mouth. Instead she moves forward more and plants her ass onto your face. 

"Now, it's time for you to taste my ass,"

Your tongue extending to lick at her tight, pink hole. IU gasps at the contact, her body trembling with anticipation. You explore her forbidden entrance, circling your tongue around her anus, tasting her saltiness. She rocks her hips, encouraging you to delve deeper.

"Yes, just like that," she moans, her head thrown back in pleasure. "I want to feel your tongue inside me."

You oblige, pushing your tongue past the tight ring of muscle, penetrating her depths. IU cries out, her hands gripping the couch cushions as you rim her with abandon. Her ass is tight and warm, clenching around your tongue, driving her wild with desire.

"Fuck, yes! I love it," she exclaims, her body moving in rhythm with your licks.

“Now, i think it's time for the main event” With her ass stick planted down on your face, she shifted her position a little to find a balance so that her feet are now hovering over your throbbing cock. This position shifts her centre of gravity to her ass smothering you further with it.

"I'm going to give you the foot job of your dreams," she teases, running her soles up and down your length, making you twitch and leak pre-cum.

She takes one foot and wraps it around your shaft, her toes curling to hold you in place. Then, with slow, deliberate movements, she begins to stroke you, using her foot to glide up and down, her toes brushing against your sensitive glans.

"Oh fuck, that's amazing," a muffled groan was heard, your hands clutching at her ass cheeks to balance her and to also anchor yourself as she drives you wild but mainly so you wouldn’t suffocate.

Jieun switches feet, using the other to stroke you, her toes massaging and teasing your sensitive skin. Her feet are soft and warm, and the sensation of her soles sliding over your cock is unlike anything you've ever experienced.

Jieun giggles, the sound sending a thrill through your body. "You like that, huh? Wait till you feel this."

Putting both of her feet together , she creates a small pocket between her holes. Plating your cock in between she begins to move her feet again, stroking your cock with long, slow motions. The combination of her feet on your sensitive flesh and her moans of pleasure is too much to bear. 

"I'm gonna cum!" you warn her, your voice muffled by her ass still 

"Not yet," she teases, quickening the pace. "I want you to hold on... I want to feel your hot cum all over my feet."

You grit your teeth, trying to delay the inevitable as she continues to stroke you with her feet, her toes curling and uncurling around your tip whenever she reaches the top. But the sensation is too intense, and with a loud groan, you surrender to the pleasure.

Jieun lets out a triumphant laugh as your cum erupts, coating her feet with your release. She rubs your cum into her skin, massaging it between her toes. IU lifted herself off you, giving you room to finally breathe.

“That was incredible” you breathe, your body tingling with post-orgasmic bliss.

Leaning forward, she uses her fingers to scoop some of the cum from her feet and brings it to her mouth savouring it while staring at you , giving you a playful wink. I’m glad you enjoyed it,You are pretty good yourself.”

You stare at her beauty , just enjoying the moment. 

“You get to fuck me once you get to VIP tier” She breaks the silence before leaning towards you closing the gap and reaching into your pocket to pull out your own access card. Tapping her queen card on yours, a notification pops up immediately on your holographics stating “Adventurer tier unlocked”

“A little gift for you, enjoy yourself and see you soon.”

Gathering all your stuff you navigate your way back to your room and crash onto the bed exhausted but with a goal in mind tommorrow. Suddenly a notification pops up on your holographic card.  It’s a selfie of Jieun, with her exorbitant beauty. The caption reads, “Check your pocket!” Attached to the end of a message was a file. 

Curious you reached into your pocket and noticed it was her black laced thong she was wearing in the opening ceremony. She had managed to slip them into your pocket when she had reached for your access card.

“Have fun with the video too!” The message at the end read.

Opening the file, apparently Jieun had recorded the whole session with you. Playing it, you started wrapping her black thong around your shaft and stroking it, imagining it was her stroking you. You were now more determined than ever to climb your way through and give her a night she will never forget , but for now it has been a fruitful first day and you drifted slowly off to sleep. 

To be continued....

Enjoy lads! Comments are always appreciated. On the side note the 1k special fic is ready will release it soon. Cheers as always for req/commission check the masterlist for info.

[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.

[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 

[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.”

[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

[lecterinteritus]

❞Killing must feel good to God too.❝

The wooden tiles ached and groaned under each step Hannibal took, determination seeped into every time he made contact with the floor. His knife didn’t feel heavy in his hand at all, a weight he carried with him more often than he didn’t, a habit at that point, for he had done for well over twenty years. For his next victim, the psychiatrist had chosen an exceptionally nosy cop; it was a man in his late twenties, dirty blonde hair slicked back, an arrogant expression hovered over his oily face, as if he were under the ridiculous illusion that he had the upper hand in this scenario.

Hannibal’s knife remained undiscovered of course, for he knew very well how he needed to hold it in the sleeve of his jacket that it stayed hidden from curious eyes. The two men found themselves in the elegant house in which the doctor held his therapy sessions with his clients; the police officer had decided that 7pm was an appropriate hour to visit him, following his suspicions.

During the brief talk they had on their way to the therapy room and study, Hannibal found it rather apparent that this wasn’t an official investigation but more private conviction that he had blood on his hands. Obviously he did, in fact, he had murdered countless people, eaten even more so, a hunger which he tried so very desperately to still. And although he was the cause of an unfathomable amount of missing people and deaths, nobody seemed to suspect it even was him. Dr. Lecter was good at adapting to what society wanted him to behave like, and he surely knew how to disguise his urges and nature in the suit he had tailored over all these years, perfecting it to the point where he himself had to force himself out of it. There was barely anybody who had caught Hannibal’s interest to the point he wanted to rip the suit off, to bare himself and his deeds until he met Will Graham. Will who worked in the behavioural science unit, who did all of Jack Crawford’s dirty work, his hound if you must. Will who was on the verge of falling ill, of breaking beyond repair. Will who was so very close to his becoming, transforming into his true self.

Hannibal knew that it would happen. After enforcing his encephalitis, which led to him getting institutionalized, he seemed to have finally pulled the trigger; ever so slightly Will Graham got closer to his truest self, so the psychiatrist was sure of, and with each new move in their bizarre chess game, he found the younger slowly morph into what he wished him so very dearly to be.

Alas, this was most definitely not how Hannibal wanted to drift off to, instead he should’ve remained concentrated on the fact that he had an intruder in here. Because most certainly, the cop acted like an intruder of the doctor’s personal space, asking him all sorts of questions and touching way too many things to his liking.

As they found themselves in the room he treated his patients, Hannibal watched with much disdain how the policeman found enough audacity to sit in his chair, arms resting too comfortably on the armrests, legs crossed on top of his table. The raw violence crawling through his veins, pulsating, aching, yearning to be exhibited, Dr. Lecter maintained a calm façade, staring the other man down.

“You know, Mr. Lecter-”, the flic started just to be interrupted right away. It was terribly rude to the psychiatrist to be addressed wrongly. “I must insist it’s Doctor.” His voice appeared free from hostility, as if he wasn’t severely unamused by the fact that this pig dared intruding his house, sitting in his chair, with those nasty feet sprawled over his desk.

“Yeah whatever. So, Doctor.” The emphasis on the title made it apparent that it’s exaggerated underlining of it was merely to agitate him, as if to tickle the monster out of him. “I know you’re the Chesapeake Ripper. The rest of my team just won’t believe me unless I get you to confess to your crime”, he said, the lack of experience paired with the statement causing Hannibal’s lips to twitch.

“Is that so? You seem very convinced of that.”

“I know so! I’ve researched for days, no, weeks, and I don’t know how nobody came to this conclusion before but I know it’s you!” The psychiatrist’s demeanour seemed to very much waver the arrogance and confidence, his voice louder in a pitiful attempt to justify his suspicion. It appeared that the evening would come with a bit of impulsive fun after all.

“I can very much show you why nobody carries this suspicion out”, Dr. Lecter said, letting the smile pull on the corners of his mouth, winning and secure with the knowledge that he would certainly have more or less tender meat for a nice dinner. Perhaps he should attempt to invite Will over on a short notice after all.

The main reason why nobody who was convinced that Hannibal was the Chesapeake Ripper was because not a single soul survived direct confrontation with him. The only one who was still alive and under the very much righteous impression was Will, he just seemed to be too infatuated with him to end his life just yet, although he must have a unique taste to him, so the scent of his alone revealed.

The policeman was very much alarmed at what the psychiatrist meant by that, now squirming in the big, comfortable chair and Hannibal has to admit that he liked the sight of that a lot more.

“What do you mean by that?” The blond’s voice came out in stutters, distress getting the better of him as the doctor approached him, slow steps being made towards him.

Without giving the younger much time to react, Hannibal’s hands snapped forward, wrapping themselves around the neck of this pig, full of disrespect and audacity.

Simply breaking his neck was not enough, no, such rudeness needed to be punished, at least according to the doctor’s morals, so instead he started squeezing.

There was something so intimate about strangulation, especially when it came to doing so with your bare hands, given the fact that you had to be close and touch the victim. When it came to a dirtbag such as that deputy, Hannibal wasn’t necessarily keen on the closeness, so with one hand still around the other's throat, the other finally got the knife, sliding into his palm from his sleeve, and with a swift, clean motion, the throat was sliced open. Blood instantly gushed out of the wound, soaking into the shirt of his, now drenched in crimson. For all these, very much true, accusations, he would’ve very much deserved to have his tongue pulled out of the back of his cranium but he was not aesthetically pleasing enough to be displayed to the public. So instead, Hannibal decided to mutilate the unfortunate looking flic, cutting his face open, letting the blade sink down to the cheekbones, thumbs pressing into the eye sockets. Tired, barely conscious gurgles came from the other man at that point when Hannibal came to the conclusion to at least make use of the pig.

As if he weighed nothing, the older picked him up to bring him down to the basement, mentally taking the note that he needed to clean his study before letting a client in. Fortunately it was a Friday night, so he, technically speaking, had all weekend to do so.

Down in the basement, Hannibal put the pig down on the cold metal table, where he stripped him of his clothes in order to have easier access to where he needed to, to then take a scalpel and put on a pair of medical gloves, after all he was to deal with the innards.

He decided to get right into it, making a large cut from between the collarbones all the way down. The scalpel sunk into the skin with ease, making it flap open, revealing the only valuable thing about this poor excuse of a human being. Not like he was any more of it, but at least he knew how to express respect and politeness.

After a short moment of consideration, the psychiatrist simply went for all of the goods, taking a piece of meat from the kidney section, then extracting liver and heart to put those on a platter. Next were the bowels, which he cut out carefully and in several pieces so he could make sausages out of them, like he had done so many times before.

Eventually, the body was stripped of all the nutritious bits of it, leaving it to be nothing more but a mangled corpse. Flesh from his thigh and belly were cut out, ribs with meat between them taken out as a whole, alongside with it some of the viable organs.

The popping and cracking of bones had been the only sounds that were to be heard, along with the squelching and smacking sounds of flesh being dismantled, of blood dripping down, droplet after droplet, though that was nothing that Hannibal was bothered by, no. Instead, he found it rather calming, the hunger being stilled by the acts of violence alone. The impulses stopped screaming, satisfying what lurked within him that threatened to break his bones and rip through his skin, something that made him feel the most akin to a God than ever.

In moments like these, he alone was in control; it was him who possessed power over a human being. Killing felt good, it always had, and it most certainly must feel good to God too.

[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 </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.

[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

[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.

[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. 

[eccentricksies]

Eyes stared hard at the giant iron gate; meant to keep ghosts and arguably regular people away as well. Taking in the distance, height and sharp points. But that didn’t stop shoes hitting against the ground hard. If he could just get over before anybody stopped him. Hearing the shout from whoever was currently keeping watch. Swerving away from the hands grabbing to try halting him. He could make it over- climbing it with ease until his trousers caught on some sharp bit. Toppling him over it; upside down facing dirt out of reach. “I’m dead, so dead.” Managing to rip free only to lay there out of oxygen. Ignoring the appearance of the adult standing over him. All the words about how his parents would be told about the escape attempt later. Sulking as he followed back into safety, boredom and he knew it was better than many other’s experience. Yet he had really been hoping to run away; see his first ghost. Make it more substantial and real. The strange entity he’d come to be aware of just didn’t seem the same. ------- “You’re so weird.” Fingers stopped tracing along the bookshelf edges; hunt for information to make his first ghostly situation easier abandoned. Another teen donning the uniform of their place of employment. Meanwhile he was in his standard attire and probably looked out of place. Yet he merely straightened up with an grin. “Sorry if this is rude but did they teach you to be so judgemental or was it natural talent?” It wasn’t met well, didn’t help this corner of the library was empty. Flash of metal being pulled out it’s sheath. He really didn’t have time for the trouble he’d just caused. Moving before it could keep him pinned in space to get beaten up. Weaving through the area until found some old barely ever used desk to crawl under. Pulling the chair in even if would be far too tight a squeeze to not cause injury. And he stayed there for what felts eons. Emerging eventually to resume researching- but then seeing the time scrambling out. Needed to make the trek to where the job was. But first, perhaps he also needed an disguise for identity hiding reasons. ------- Flourish of the rapier and the sound of it cutting through the air. Keeping it from colliding where the ghost had just been. Surprised by the metallic taste in his mouth. Of course he knew it well- for medical reasons but this didn’t have the same nature to it. That’s when realized it was actual blood. Hopping into the nearby circle and swiping a glove at his mouth. It didn’t make sense. Shaking it off and exiting back towards the spot he’d been trying to pry open. The ghost was being persistent to try keeping him away from the source. Yet he managed; quickly retrieving the object and containing it before just allowing himself to rest. Take a breath; think about what the next steps were. ------- He watched the bat taken to the old technology before him. Sound of glass breaking; the others kids having the time of their life. Being extended the bat by her manicured hands. Take part in the chaos- that was normal but not really. And he didn’t belong in this crowd. Yet he took it, to make her happy and so she wouldn’t go running to his parents about it. Eyes closing as he smashed at the wreckage. Before letting it rest against the ground; still in his hands as regarded his environment. Reeling like he was going to hit it again. Then sending it flying through the field at the exclamations from the others. Ignoring the look on her face as he took off running across the grass. -------- Stretched across several seats; bidding time until no longer had to stay there. He didn’t mind hospitals unlike most. Especially regarding the problem had made people all the more ill at ease with such surroundings. But it was the sort of reliable places he’d known since young childhood. Especially given having a doctor as an parent. Putting one hand into the air, arm stiff and straight as spread fingers out to disperse the green glow of light fixtures. Not even angling his head as soft footsteps approached. “You are to go straight home, get some rest.” He gave some sign or noise of recognition as carefully sat up. Scooping up his bag with a ever so polite thanks. Waiting for the nurse to leave before actually getting up. Didn’t even slightly rush to leave- it wasn’t like he was there for his nightly activities. He’d rather die than have it be the case. Sure he wasn’t looking forward to the dinner conversation of it’s inadvisable for him to have sleepless nights. Which he had no control over except for how he spent them. But he’d not even been up to such things for the past week. --------- Lighter between tips of his fingers; some part of him wondered if setting the place ablaze would do the trick. Especially given the feedback the place carried. Sure he dealt with the ghosts, but he couldn’t shake the horrible histories and causes of death he’d figured out during the job. Flicking it open, closed for what felt hours but was only minutes. Before pocketing it- starting to put the sources he’d found inside his bag. Get them disposed of; before others would be dropping things by the furnaces. Bag slinging over his shoulders as he made a hasty exit. One arm wrapping around his mid section to try keep himself together emotionally. Could get all hysteric over it when done with it all and in the safety of his room back home. Which was easier said than done, but he did manage to hold off until he’d scaled the fence and then the side of his house. Collapsing on the floor to fall apart until he could change, stow everything and pass out into the endless state of unconscious whimsy. ---------- He agreed with quite an few; rich people throwing parties so often and all was fairly tacky. Yet that was part of his life, even if he didn’t like it. Only of a certain standard though given never got along with others remotely around his age. Plus he found his own sort of social gatherings. More exclusive for people he could tolerate being around. Tying the evening’s bracelet around his wrist. Fluffing his hair up as put on the final touches to his outfit. And when he reached the warehouse- he made it past security with ease. Observing the groups of people, faint music, and most of all the fire pit. Table of pens, paper scraps. Abandoned various little items from lighters to sticker sheets. Making his way for it and as quickly possible jotting down on the right colored paper. His wish, to never have to give up the newfound nightly hobby of ghost business. Flicking it into the flames with a deep breath. Turning to notice the awkward looking guy he never had seen before. And somehow becoming his tour guide. As they parted, surprised when the other kissed him and almost falling backwards. “Uhm see you around- I’ve got to get going before sunrise or my parents would drown me in iron for breaking curfew.” Exaggeration. Bit of one lousy excuse but he couldn’t make his brain work again. “Your lips taste really nice though.” Feeling his face warm up- taking it as his cue to weave out of sight. Through the crowd and then run till he ran out of breath along the pavement.

[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?”