#My blog is getting so little notice lately I need to self soothe

[lovewillthaw-j]

There, there

[proserpina-magnus]

☘️ - NSFW alphabet

James Potter if haven't done one

This is a little choppy but I hope you enjoy it! Mwah.

James Potter NSFW Alphabet

Reader: tried to keep it as nb as possible )

Warning: pure smut and no editing

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Super comforting and he’s really affectionate. He loves to massage your back (which will probably lead to another round). And he does that cute thing where he’d rub his nose against yours. He’d cover you in blankets and literally would hand feed you if he could. He basically forces you to drink water as well.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

He loves your thighs, he likes placing his hands on them and laying in between them.

He likes his stomach since he’s worked really hard on it over the last couple of years with quidditch.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

He will wear a condom only if you want, but he’d much prefer to go without. He’s pull out game is strong as fuck and he usually cums over your ass or thighs, sometimes even stomach.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

James wants to do collaring and he’s been fascinated and keeps daydreaming about being your good boy or having the opposite and getting you a collar that says “daddy’s _____” (preferred nicknames like girl or boy, etc).

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

He’s pretty experienced without actually have experience, he wants first times to be important so he was actually waiting for the right one (which happened to be you). He can definitely find his way around your body with ease, who knows how he knows how to do it.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Missionary, he likes have your knees over his shoulders and takes his sweet time making the moment last as long as possible.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

He’s a sap so he try’s not to be humourus, he wants the sex to be romantic and he can’t risk turning you off with one of his lame dad jokes.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

It’s a mess, he’s tried to shave it, comb it, trim it, it’ll just grow back. It definitely matches his head hair.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Like said before, James wants the sex to be romantic. He likes holding your hand and kissing your shoulder’s and lips until they're rosy. He just wants to take care of you.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Pretty often, he gets stressed sometimes so he’ll just get out a quick wank before heading to class in the morning or late at night.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

He has a ton, d/s is very present and the roles switch between you both often. Power play is a must and he has a big thing for bondage, he loves all the different knots and shapes, he thinks the ropes look pretty against your skin. There’s others like makeup, he weirdly finds it attractive when mascara runs down your cheeks.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Usually in his dorm, he prefers to have his time and spend every second admiring and taking care of you. He rarely would want to do something out of order and he needs a quick notice before trying a new location. He usually promises you he’ll satisfy you later if you become needy during class or at hogsmeade.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Everything, fuck me eyes go along way for him. Sometimes you don’t even mean to get him going and he’s rushing you up to his dorm. He likes the uniforms too, he’d purposely mix up your robes or house ties just so people would know you’d belong to a certain wizard.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

He’d like spanking to a minimum, but the second he sees blood he freaks out. Even bruises make him worry and he’d begin to cry and kiss over it, promising you he’d never mean to hurt you and he’d be super careful next time.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

He prefers receiving it, since he likes the stability of cumming down your throat. But if he’s subby he’s prefer to give you pleasure, he just wants to please you.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Depends, sometimes after a quidditch game (depending if he won or lost) he’d take it out on you, rough and fast sex was a must so he could released all of his pent up tension. But then he’d get really soft and gentle to soothe over the rough behaviour. If he’s subby, he’ll let you control everything.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Personally he doesn’t like it, a quick blow job in between classes is alright with him or even a quick fuck in the showers in the changing rooms, but he prefers his time and he’d rather have you all to himself for a few hours.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Not necessarily, he likes boundaries so you both talk over them often and he’d just do whatever was in the green zone. Sometimes if he’s being a hard dom he’ll try a risky move, wait for you reaction and depending on that he’ll keep it up or drop it immediately.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Oh boy… he’s not the Gryffindor quidditch caption for nothing. He’s athletic, charming, and a golden retriever boyfriend. He definitely can go for 4 or 5, depending on his mood and on time, since it doesn’t take much to make him cum.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

He doesn’t, he’s a bit embarrassed but he definitely isn’t opposed to watching you play with yourself. He actually loves mutual masterbation and he enjoys watching you show him all the things that make you feel good.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

He hates teasing you but loves when you tease him, every little look or if you grab his arm for protection, he’s creaming in his pants. Whenever you whisper in his ear, even if it isn’t sexual, he’s gulping and fixing his trousers.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Subby James moans a lot, he whines and whispers and he likes to talk. But more dominant James groans and whispers cusses (which is the only time he rarely swears because he hates cuss words).

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

He enjoys morning sex way to much, he likes the sunlight beaming in and the slow and groggy movements due to being sleepy, he loves the little whines and enjoys the cold air from the morning cooling off his hot skin.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

A solid nine inches, come on he’s James Potter. He’s quite proud of it too, smirking whenever he see’s a tummy bulge or even when you have trouble standing after sex.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

It’s high to the extreme, he never knew how horny he truly was until he began to date you. Every day he wanted to take you to his dorm and try new things, he wanted to be cocooned in between your legs.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

If he’s had a long day, it doesn’t take long. He’s a gentleman so he’ll kill you to sleep before he passes out, but sometimes you’d get back from the bathroom and see him sprawled out, a big grin on his face.

--

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[jaehyunfirstlove]

Highway to Heaven - Ch. 7

Your best friend Johnny wants to go on a road trip. The only catch? He wants to bring his roommate, Jeong Jaehyun, someone you just couldn’t stand.

Genre: e2l, fluff, angst, smut (18+ only)

Warnings: unprotected sex, dirty talk, swearing

Taglist: @jaehyunnie77​ @sehunniepot​ @jaejoongiewifey-blog @glxwingstar​ @sleep-is-all-i-seek​ @vgirlfrixnd​ @nicolai28​ (send me a message if you want to be tagged)

Ch. 1 | Ch. 2 | Ch. 3 | Ch. 4 | Ch. 5 | Ch. 6

A/N: So here it is, the smut chapter :)

The next morning you were the last to wake up again, Johnny and Jaehyun running the suitcases back to the car. You were alone in the room, so you sat up in the bed to take stock of yourself. Were you really willing to go there? Were you really willing to do it? Were you really willing to open up your heart again? The pain of your breakup came back again, but you noticed it wasn’t as strong as it had been. Instead of a stabbing feeling in your chest, it was more of a dull throb, like a bout of indigestion that didn’t linger. You heard Johnny and Jaehyun talking and laughing outside, and you were filled with an overwhelming sense of happiness. Your best friend who could always lift your mood and loved you like family, and his roommate, someone who knew how (wrongly) you felt about him but still treated you kindly and respectfully. They certainly weren’t the solution to everything, but they helped you see that there was more to life than heartache.

“You better get out here before we leave without you!” Johnny yelled from outside, and you smiled. You got out of bed, dressed hurriedly and walked out the door.

---

You drove the first shift, with the window down so the wind could blow through your hair. It was a beautiful late summer day, the sun warm on your face from the open sunroof. Johnny sat in the passenger seat, drumming on the dash with his fingers and singing along loudly to the song playing. Jaehyun sat behind you, the wind fluttering his bangs into his face but he didn’t seem to mind. He sang along with Johnny, and even though they were exaggerating and playing around, their voices blended beautifully.

“You guys sing so well,” you exclaimed, “I’m jealous.”

Jaehyun laughed, “No way, we were terrible!”

“No I’m serious! I know you guys were just joking around but your voices are beautiful.”

Johnny started to rib you again, but Jaehyun was quiet. You snuck a look in the rearview to see him smiling to himself, staring out the window, the tips of his ears a bright red.

---

You spent that afternoon at the beach, the two of them managing to convince you to add an extra day to your trip. You could’ve been home in your bed that night, but the weather was too nice to spend it cooped up in the car.

“Just one more day,” Johnny pleaded, “We’ll camp tonight so we don’t have to agonize over motel rooms again. Please?”

He didn’t have to work so hard, you were already convinced, but you made him work for it anyway just to amuse yourself. When you made a big show of giving in, he yelled in triumph, picking you up for a bear hug and kissing you on the cheek, before he ran off towards the beach, stripping his clothes off as he went.

“Are you sure you’re okay with this?” Jaehyun didn’t know you as well as Johnny and took your reluctance seriously. “I’m sure I can convince him to just head home.”

“Oh I wanted to stay,” you giggled conspiratorially, “I just did that to make him suffer.”

Jaehyun laughed, before looking over at you and smiling. His cheeks puffed out, dimples deep, the bright afternoon sun making his eyes sparkle. You smiled back, something in your chest shifting. He swept out his arm, motioning for you to walk on ahead of him, and together you made your way towards the ocean.

This time, you joined them in the water, and even though the water was cold you couldn’t help but have a great time. You tried not to go deeper than your waist, or even get your hair wet, but Johnny had different plans for you, dunking you or splashing water whenever you got too close. You eventually gave up and dove in, swimming towards the crashing waves. Jaehyun was already there, the waves cresting over his shoulders, his wet skin glistening in the afternoon sun. His arms were outspread, his face turned towards the sky, eyes closed. The water crashed over him, running in rivulets down his chest, but he was immovable. It was a sight you couldn’t take your eyes off of.

“Isn’t he hot?” Johnny teased, coming to stand beside you in the water.

You rolled your eyes at Johnny, but it was definitely something you couldn’t deny. “Yeah, he is.” You sighed.

“So? What are you waiting for? Go get him!” He nudged you with his broad shoulder, almost making you lose your balance and fall into the water.

“I don’t know, Johnny,” you hesitated, “What if it doesn’t work out?”

“Well then it doesn’t work out? Then you eat two tubs of rocky road with me and call me at three o’clock with your drunken rants.” He shrugged.

“I don’t think my waistline can handle that anymore,” you joked.

“Listen, Y/N,” he took on a rare serious tone which made you perk up, “I know both of you really well, and I happen to think you two would be amazing together. Not that I think you ‘need a man’ or anything like that, but your personalities just fit, you know? Besides, I need you to get over that asshole of an ex you had, so even if you just use Jaehyun for sex I wouldn’t mind.”

You elbowed him in the ribs and he laughed.

“But seriously, Y/N, let yourself be happy. You deserve it.” He patted you on the shoulder, and then dove into the water and swam to where Jaehyun was standing.

You watched them again, your heart swelling in your chest. Overcome by emotion you let the tears fall, thankful that your face was already wet so it wouldn’t be so evident that you were crying.

---

The campfire that night took a little longer to light, probably because your hand shook like a leaf and you had trouble calming yourself down. You didn’t know why you were so nervous, until Jaehyun sat down beside you and your heart rate skyrocketed.

“Need some help?” he asked, sweeping his damp hair away from his face. You were aware that he was handsome, you weren’t blind, but you had never really looked at his face before, like really looked at it. He had eyes that could hold the depths of the universe but were still kind, a perfectly shaped nose, and cheeks that looked like soft bread that you wanted to squish. He was the weird, perfect blend of hot, sexy, cute, and goofy. To look like that, and then be sweet, humble, and thoughtful too, it had to be illegal.

“Uh, yeah, thanks,” you handed him the matches, and when your hands touched you felt a jolt of electricity run through your body, “I don’t know what’s wrong with me tonight,” you laughed nervously, rubbing your hand where his hand had touched.

He lit the fire with ease, before he handed you back the matches and regarded you with concern. “Do you feel sick or anything?” He lifted up his arm and made to touch your forehead with the back of his hand but before he did, he asked you for permission. You nodded, and the warmth of his hand against your head did wonders to soothe you.

“You don’t feel hot, that’s good,” he determined.

“You don’t think I’m hot?” you couldn’t resist the joke, but he just smiled.

“Oh I know you’re hot,” he leaned close to you and whispered, because Johnny was walking into earshot. You choked on air.

“Tents are up, hot dogs are here, and no beer for Y/N tonight!” Johnny exclaimed as he plopped himself down and divvied out the hot dogs.

“I don’t want any beer tonight anyway,” you scoffed, as much as you wanted to defy his self-righteous ass you wanted your head to be clear.

“Good, because we only had two left!” Johnny laughed, passing the other beer to Jaehyun.

“You sure, Y/N? I’m sure one beer would be fine.” Jaehyun held out his beer to you.

“No really, I’m good,” you smiled at Jaehyun, “Thanks for offering though.” You gave Johnny a pointed look but he just scoffed.

“Ignore Jaehyun, he just wants to get you drunk so he can get into your pants.”

Both you and Jaehyun started coughing, before exchanging guilty looks. Johnny stared between the two of you.

“Is there something I should know?” he narrowed his eyes at both of you, “have you guys been screwing around behind my back? Please don’t tell me, I actually don’t want to know.” He took a swig of his beer and stuck his hot dog into the fire.

---

The three of you stayed up late into the night, talking about anything and everything, laughing till  your sides hurt at Johnny’s jokes and stories, and sometimes had quiet bouts where the crackling of the fire was all that was heard. It was during one of these quiet times that Johnny finally stood up.

“Well, that’s it for me. I have first shift tomorrow so I’m going to bed,” he mock-saluted you and Jaehyun, “Good night, losers.”

You watched him walking away, shaking your head, as Jaehyun laughed and wished him a good night.

“What about you, Y/N, you tired?” he asked.

“Not really,” you poked at the fire with your stick, the embers were dying and you tried to get them going again. You shivered at the lack of heat, and Jaehyun came over and draped a blanket around your shoulders.

“I guess I’ll go to bed,” he said, turning towards the tents.

“Actually, do you mind staying?” you didn’t look at him as you asked, but you were glad when you noticed him turn back and take his place beside you.

“I don’t mind,” he said, helping you restart the fire again. The two of you were quiet for some time before you finally spoke up.

“Can I ask you a question?” you started.

“You already did, but I’ll let you ask another one,” he replied cheekily. You nudged him playfully with your shoulder and he smiled. “Of course. What is it?”

“Do you think I would make a good girlfriend?” your question took him off guard, because he looked at you for a long time before answering.

“Do you think you would make a good girlfriend?” he countered.

“You’re not supposed to answer a question with a question,” you grumbled.

“Okay fine, since you’re asking my opinion, I’ll say yes.” He stated firmly.

“Why, though? I thought I was good enough, I thought we were happy, I thought he was happy, but it still didn’t work out. So was I really a good girlfriend then, in the end?”

“I can’t speak for him,” Jaehyun said quietly, “I can only speak for myself. And all I can say is that you may not have been good enough for him, but you are more than good enough for me, leagues more, galaxies more.” He made figure-eights with his stick in the sand so he wouldn’t have to look at you. “Theoretically speaking, of course.”

You couldn’t help it, you couldn’t believe you were that easy, but in your defense he had been breaking down your walls for the entire trip. You turned to him, took his face in your hands and looked deeply into his eyes. He started at the sudden contact, his eyes swimming with apprehension and wonderment.

“I want to kiss you,” you said resolutely, “is that okay?”

He broke into a wide grin and nodded, so you jumped off the proverbial cliff and pressed your lips to his. His lips felt exactly the way you thought they would feel, all those times you permitted yourself to wonder. He moved softly against you, his lips gentle, and except for your hands on his face you weren’t touching each other anywhere else. Yet it ignited something in you. You pulled away, knowing yourself and how you could get carried away. He was breathing heavily, his eyes closed, lips kiss-stung. He was so beautiful in that moment you wanted to cry.

“Do you want to be my boyfriend?” you asked, feeling like a middle-schooler asking out her crush. He still hadn’t opened his eyes but he smiled widely and nodded.

“Yes I do, I really, really do.”

Your heart soared at that moment, and he finally opened his eyes. He looked at you with so much admiration that you thought you would melt on the spot. He took your hands in his, bringing them down to your lap before he leaned in and kissed you again. He started out gentle again, but when you tentatively swiped your tongue into his mouth his movements became more urgent. He slipped his arms around your waist and your hands went up to clasp around his neck. He deepened the kiss, his tongue in your mouth heating up your body more than any campfire ever could. He moved to lay you on the blanket but you stopped him.

“Not here,” you breathed, and he looked at you questioningly. Standing up, you took his hand and led him towards your tent.

You went in first, lying down on top of the sleeping bag, and he followed you in, carefully lowering his body on top of yours. He propped himself up on his elbows, mindful of not resting his entire weight on you.

“Is this okay?” he asked, his eyes roaming over your face, “I know it’s not the most comfortable place.”

You didn’t care at that point, you’d lie down with him in a canoe if this was how it felt. You just nodded, pulling him more towards you, wanting to feel more of him because you knew he was holding back.

“Careful,” he laughed, “I don’t want to squish you.”

“Squish me, I don’t care, you feel too good,” you answered, wrapping your arms around him and squeezing. He nuzzled into your neck, the tip of his nose ghosting lightly on your skin.

“Mm, you smell so good,” he whispered, and soon his lips were on your neck. You shuddered as his lips painted a trail on your skin. When he swiped his tongue goosebumps erupted and you inhaled sharply. “Taste good, too.”

You involuntarily bucked your hips, and felt him hard against your core. He groaned at the contact, sucking harshly at the skin on the base of your neck. The sound of him groaning and the feeling of the mark he was probably leaving on you turned your brain to hazy mush. The only thing you knew was that you needed more.

“Take this off,” you ordered, tugging at the hem of his t-shirt. He reached back with one hand and pulled it off with one go, and you would never get over how sexy he looked doing it. You put your palms on his chest, wanting to feel the firm muscle there, moving down to his abs, down his stomach, past his belly button to the trail that led down. You gripped the waistband of his jeans and he groaned again. “These too.”

He leaned away from you to pull his jeans off, leaving him in only his boxers, his eyes never leaving you the entire time. You took that opportunity to flip him onto his back on the sleeping bag, thankful for the years of martial arts training that gave you the ability to do it. He yelped in surprise before breaking out into a wide grin.

“Shit, that was hot,” he admitted, and you straddled him, pulling your own shirt off in the process. You reached back to unclasp your bra, but he suddenly sat up and stopped you.

“Can I?” he asked, and you nodded. He started kissing your neck again, making you throw your head back at the feeling, while he reached behind you and unclasped your bra, throwing it to a corner of the tent. His hands moved over your bare breasts, cupping them in his hands. Your breathing picked up as he held them, chest heaving when he rubbed the pads of his thumbs over your nipples.

“Jaehyun,” you breathed, grabbing his shoulders to keep yourself steady. You wrapped your legs around his back, grinding your hips against him and he groaned loudly in your ear. He tugged at the waistband of your jeans.

“Your turn to take these off,” he growled, and you sat back, taking your jeans and panties off in one go. He took that opportunity to pull off his boxers, and even in the dim light you could see the tip of his cock glistening with precum. He looked at you with hooded eyes but didn’t make a move, as if to say you could still stop this if you wanted to. But you knew in that moment there was nothing else in the world you wanted but him. You straddled him again, your hands on his shoulders, kissing him deeply. When you pulled away you were both panting.

“I want you,” you said firmly, a different ache in your chest forming, “I want you, Jae.” He looked into your eyes with so much emotion you wanted to cry, so you just grabbed his face and kissed him again, this time rubbing your pussy against his cock. You were so wet you slid easily against his hardness, and he moaned into your mouth at the sensation. On the next pass you caught his tip against your opening, and pushed down.

You broke from the kiss to moan loudly as the tip of his cock parted you. You moved your hips slowly so you could feel every inch of him enter you, stretching you so deliciously you couldn’t stop the moans coming from your mouth. His hands were on your ass, gripping the flesh there, watching your face as you lowered yourself onto him.

“Oh Jae,” you moaned, the pleasure almost too much for you to handle. He filled you so well, you could feel the tip of his cock touching your sweet spot and you knew once you started moving it would make you crazy. You started a slow rhythm at first, his cock dragging in and out of you at a measured pace. But when he started moaning, his voice low and sexy, you lost yourself.

“Fuck, baby, you feel so good,” he groaned, his head dropping to the crook of your neck. You snapped your hips harder, grabbing his shoulders as you could feel the knot in the pit of your stomach forming. Your thighs were burning which made your hips stutter, so he grabbed a hold of your hips and decided to help out, pumping upwards into you. The combined force ramped up your pleasure, making your eyes roll to the back of your head.

“Oh Jae!” you screamed, his cock hitting your sweet spot repeatedly.

“Hey! Keep it down over there, some of us are trying to sleep!” Johnny suddenly yelled from the other tent. That made Jaehyun stop his movement completely, which made you want to kill Johnny.

“Put your airpods in and go back to sleep!” you yelled back. You heard him grumble before he was silent again, presumably asleep. You sighed in frustration, dropping your forehead onto Jaehyun’s shoulder. He laughed softly, kissing you on the side of the head.

“This isn’t over,” he whispered, holding you and flipping you onto your back. He was still hard inside you and he gave you a moment, staring at you with that look again, caressing your cheek with his hand, before he started to slam into you again.

You bit your lip to keep from screaming, wrapping your legs around him, your fingers digging into his back. It all felt so good, and along with your oncoming orgasm you felt something shifting in your chest. As he held you, his eyes on yours, it felt like your heart was being pulled from your body. A panic filled you, your eyes pooling with tears, pleasure still coursing through you at the same time, threatening to explode. You didn’t realize it but you were whimpering, from pleasure or heartache you couldn’t decipher.

He watched all of this play out on your face, before he kissed you softly. When he pulled away, he whispered low in your ear, “It’s okay, baby, let it go. I’m here. I’ve got you.”

You came with a cry then, not caring if Johnny heard you. It was the most intense orgasm you’d ever had in your life, and with it came a release of a different kind. The tears that had pooled in your eyes finally fell, your chest finally light again. Jaehyun cradled your face in his hands, kissing your tears away.

---

A/N: I know it’s not a commonly held notion that Jaehyun is a sub in any way, but I just liked the idea of Y/N just throwing him for a loop and turning his world upside down like that (literally, lol). So anyway, just suspend your disbelief for that moment :)

[aellynera]

Man of the House (Bud Cooper x F!Reader)

MAN OF THE HOUSE

a/n: this is an entirely ridiculous, self-indulgent fic, especially for @sergeantkane, with little plot, just some thots. 💜😘 comments, likes, and reblogs always appreciated!

Word Count: 1385(ish)

Summary: It’s been a very long day, and Bud has a surprise for you.

Warnings: Female reader (no y/n or descriptions.) A tiny bit of language. Questionable apparel choices. Strong sexual innuendo/very very light very very brief smut (not at all graphic but it’s there so please be 18+). The usual sketchy proofreading/editing.

You fumble with your key as you aim it toward your front door. It has been a very, very long day, and all you can picture in your mind right now is a long soak in a hot bubble bath and the soothing warmth of your soft bed.

You’d called your husband around 4 p.m., when you realized exactly how much work you had left, and with your boss breathing down your neck that it had to be done today. Bud had been very sweet and understanding, like he always was with you. He told you to try not to stress, to take your time and do what you had to do, and that he couldn’t wait until later tonight to kiss you senseless.

Your husband’s gentle words were the only thing that got you through the rest of the afternoon. Thinking about finally getting home and being wrapped up in his strong, warm arms was the only thing that got you past a screaming boss, endless phone calls, and immature, irresponsible coworkers. The glint he gets in his eyes whenever he looks at you stuck in your mind, you somehow managed to tune out most of the unending cacophony.

But even with the thoughts of your sweet husband, the day was exhausting.

And you know, since you were working late, Bud would also likely be working even later. He isn’t exactly addicted to his job, but he takes it very seriously. And if he knows you aren’t going to be home, he’ll probably put in a few more hours at his own office. He is prone to lose track of time, so you will likely have to call him later and see when he was coming home.

That’s fine. That’s what the bath and the bed are for.

You finally get the key into the doorknob and unlock it, sighing and letting yourself in. Every step, every motion, feels like you;re walking in wet cement. You’re glad you’d left a light on this morning because you aren’t sure you can navigate the dark house right now, and you certainly don’t have the energy to flip a light switch. Wait, you didn’t leave a light on when you left today, did you? Whatever. It doesn’t matter. Dropping your bag unceremoniously by the door, you think maybe you’ll skip the bath after all.

That’s when your addled brain registers the smell. Garlic and onion and something rich and meaty wafts through the house. Exhaustion aside, you’re certain you hadn’t left anything cooking when you went out that morning.

You shuffle your way to the kitchen, narrowly avoiding the couch on the way, until the edge of the kitchen table stops you dead in your tracks. Well, not so much the table itself. You’re so surprised to see Bud standing in the kitchen that you forget you’re in motion and the crash of your body hitting the wood makes him turn around.

“Sweetheart, you’re home, I didn’t hear you come in,” he says with a wide grin. “Let me give this a quick stir, hang on a sec.” He gestures vaguely with the wooden spoon clutched in his hand and turns back to the pot on the stove.

Truly, the sight would have been less shocking to you, if Bud was wearing anything more than just an apron, and you weren’t staring dumbfounded at his ass.

Not that you’d never seen his ass. You’d seen his ass plenty of times; he was your husband, after all. But you were pretty sure you’d never seen his ass peeking out from beneath the yellow ruffles that edged your favorite blue apron. The one you wear all the time when you’re baking or cooking. The one with the little cats-and-flowers pattern splashed across it. His reading glasses were hooked over the pocket in the center of his chest.

You’re not sure what comes out of your mouth, but it isn’t words.

Bud puts a lid on the pot, peeks into the oven, and then walks over to you with a sweet smile on his face.

He wraps his arms around your waist and leans in to press a soft kiss on your mouth, and you vaguely note that your mouth is still hanging open. “How was the rest of your day?” 

“I...it was…” you finally get something other than a strangled yelp out of your face. “Bud...what are you…”

Bud shrugs. “Making you dinner.”

“In my...apron,” you squeak.

Another shrug as Bud turns back to the stove. “I didn’t want to get stains on my shirt.”

Your mouth opens and closes a few more times. Are you dreaming? You could be dreaming. But then Bud moves to wipe his hand on the apron, and the apron shifts so you get a glimpse of what else is under it, and suddenly you desperately need a drink.

Bud turns back to you and hands you a glass of wine, which you didn’t even notice he’d poured. You down half of it in one go, and he clinks his glass to yours before taking his own sip. “Everything should be ready in a few minutes.”

“Bud Cooper,” you start, biting your lip for a moment. “What is going on?”

He puts his glass down and inches towards you again, wrapping his arms back around your waist. The smell of his cologne mixes with the garlic and the scent that is simply him and you sigh into his chest. He kisses the top of your head. “You sounded like you were having a really bad day when you called, so I got out of work a little early. Got stuff to make your favorite pasta, cleaned up a little around the house, started cooking. Thought I’d surprise you.”

“I’m sorry, but how exactly did cooking naked come into play?”

“I’m not naked,” his face is completely straight. “I’m wearing an apron.”

“Bud.”

“So did my surprise work?”

And before you can say another word, you’re being hoisted up onto the kitchen table and Bud is standing between your legs. The skirt of the apron lays across your lap and you can feel him against your thigh.

“Bud, people eat on this table.”

He looks at you for a long moment. The gleam in his eyes is undeniable, familiar, and oh so slightly dangerous. It’s probably a second too late when you realize what you said, and what he’s now doing.

Bud gazes up at you from his knees, leaving hot wet kisses on your own, trailing his lips down your calves and back up to your knees again. “Hmm, you don’t say.”

You’re pretty sure you black out at some point, it’s kind of hard to tell. All you know is Bud’s mouth is hot and wet on your equally hot and wet center, and he’s wearing that ridiculous fucking apron and you’d contemplate why you even bought the thing in the first place, if his mouth wasn’t currently doing what it was doing.

Dinner is forgotten and you have a vague recollection of Bud telling you it’s fine, because pasta is always better the next day anyway.

The sheets are soft against your skin as you roll over in the faint morning light, reaching for the spot next to you. Bud rolls over to face you and pulls you closer. How you got to bed, you have no idea, but Bud seems to sense your question and answers sleepily, his eyes not opening.

“You were pretty out of it last night,” he mumbles, snuggling closer to you. “Carried you back. Cleaned up the mess.”

You hum in a mix of appreciation and contentment, curling up into his side and opening one eye to glance at him. “What did you do with the apron?”

“Burned it in the backyard.”

Bud laughs as you lightly slap his chest. “No, seriously. That’s like...my favorite apron.”

“Washed it and stuck it back in the drawer,” he tells you softly, and you can feel the sly grin more than you can see it. “So next time you put it on…”

The images of what happened in your kitchen last night flash through your mind in an instant and you can feel your body heating at the mere thought.

Definitely your favorite apron.

Taglist: @anetteaneta @autumnleaves1991-blog @be-the-spark-flyboy @damerondjarin @deeandbobbymcgee @huxdameron @itspdameronthings @jitterbugs927  @littlebopper96 @michaelperry @poedjarin @rosemarysbaby13 @sergeantkane @spider-starry @woakiees @writefightandflightclub @veuliee @yourbucky084 @waatermelon-sugaar​

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[tender-rosiey]

is it okay if i get an atsushi hc/one shot where he reacts to reader (his partner) coming out as non-binary?? and maybe a moment where he defends them after someone misgenders them? if this has already been done, i'm sorry!

❥ Atsushi reacting to s/o coming out as non-binary

ᴀ/ɴ: I hope you like this dear and I want everyone to know that my blog is safe for everyone and anyone 🥺❤️ sorry if I upload late but my schedule has been really filled lately 😔

Now Atsushi is always trying his best to be a safe place where you can tell him everything

Wether it be soft touches

Hugging you while playing with your hair leaving soft kisses all over your face; loving each part of you

Comforting words

“You are wonderful, absolutely perfect, don’t worry. I am always here for you, babe.”

Simply being there for you in your vulnerable moments

Holding your hands and comfortingly rubbing your back

He wants you to feel at ease and comfortable with him

So Atsushi is a little observant

He noticed how you were a little disturbed or perhaps hesitant when someone would refer to you as “her” or “she”

He will wait however tell you come at tell him about it

As well as you telling him your preferable pronouns

So when you do tell him about it he is happy

“Great! I am glad you finally told me; I couldn’t bare seeing you uncomfortable”

Used your preferred pronouns ever since

“Y/N? Oh, they are absolutely perfect.”

“The shirt is Y/N’s, yeah it’s theirs”

“OMG ITS THEM THEY FINALLY CAME BACK”

clingy bby <3

He will fight a bich for you 🥰

Atsushi was discussing something with a man who had been attacked. Ranpo had a mission and then passed it to Atsushi cause...Ranpo. The man then talked about you “You know, your girlfriend, she is a sight for sore eyes.”

Atsushi chuckled awkwardly and said “Sorry sir, but can you use the pronouns them/they for them? They are non-binary” he held your hand gently and rubbed soothing circles on the back of your hand.

“What? She is clearly a girl and what the hell is non-binary? The genders are clearly only male and female, kid. You don’t create new genders because you are too young to understand them!”

Atsushi looked disgusted and angry at the man, who gave him the right to talk to you that way? He glared at the man and spoke sternly “You don’t need to be rude about it. Just respect them, you won’t lose anything you know.”

The man scoffed, “I am the customer here and you should respect me.” Atsushi rolled his eyes and retorted instantly “I don’t respect those who don’t deserve it, you can search for someone else to deal with your discriminatory self. If you don’t respect my lover then I won’t bother to interact with you.”

When you come back home he will kiss your nose and hug you

“They don’t deserve to be blessed by your presence”

YOU ARE HIS ROYALTY

he will remind anytime and everytime that you are perfect the way you are ❣️

copyright © 2020 tender-rosiey

do not copy or plagiarize or you will be reported

[albino-whumpee]

Love

I´ve been so self indulgent during this week, thanks for your patience. I went overboard with this @whumpmasinjuly ´s prompt for day 3, “Love”. (2020)

Taglist: @castielamigos-whump-side-blog @giggly-evil-puppy @cowboysrappin @haro-whumps @burtlederp @neuro-whump @comfortforthepain @whumps-the-word @whole-and-apart-and-between @broken-horn @ashintheairlikesnow @rosesareviolentlyread @starnight-whump @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi @as-a-matter-of-whump  @whumpasaurus101 @grizzlie70 @twistedcaretaker @boxboysandotherwhump @unicornscotty

CW// Slavery, ´pet whumphuman trafficking, referenced conditioning and past dubcon/noncon, trauma survivors navigating relationships and recovery. Slightly Stockholm syndrome affected whumpees.

It was snowing slightly outside the supermarket. Sann had waited outside the house with his brown coat and muted blue sweater, when they came back home from work. Pushed Albus towards the snowy street to buy ingredients for dinner.

It was odd, because they had enough food for Christmas, which would be next week, but he couldn´t say no to Sann. Much less when he looked so happy going outside whenever he could. Stopping a few times to play with the snow. One of those Sann slipped and fell on his butt, making Albus jump to see if he was alright, right after he snorted and broke into laughter. 

“I’ll get you some cream for it later yeah?” The freckled boy´s jeans were still a bit wet when they went inside the store. Sann patting it with a pained frown on his face. 

“Hey Sann, look” Albus called when they were passing by the clothes isle. The other boy’s hand passing over the clothes like always before he turned. Sann´s face went from interested to a pout, noticing the other was holding anti-slip snow shoes with a shit eating grin. “Could´ve come handy earlier, maybe we should buy them” Sann hit his shoulder as the other snickered. 

A few steps away Sann took something from the book isle and trotted back to hand him it with that bratty smile he had. 

“Merry Christmas then” Sann signed when Albus pulled his eyes up, away from the “comedy for dummies” book on his hands. 

“Ha, you think you´re so funny don´t you?” he said pulling him closer from his coat. “I know how to shush my favorite comedian though” he quickly inhaled before he kissed the corner of his mouth, just a little peck on the lips that left Sann looking for more as he pulled away. Just staring into each other´s eyes for a moment. 

Sann gave him another quick kiss before he smiled and grabbed softly Albus´ chin. Shaking it a bit before he stepped away. “You should shush me more often” Sann signed, walking backwards to the cash registers extending his hand. Albus took it without thinking. Bringing it to his lips to give it a swift kiss. 

-

On the way back home, it was Sann who laughed at him when he slipped on the icy floor. The little groceries they had bought, flying in the air to land on the snow. Even though, as they were holding hands, Sann fell too. 

“We should have bought them!” Albus shouted as the other helped him pick up the things, giggling at the way he patted his own butt.

Walking in a bit of pain, they saw the lights flicker inside the house. Just before Albus turned to Sann shrugging, acting as if he hadn’t gone to the supermarket just to make time. Hiding his smirk from the boy as he opened the door with reddened fingers. Watching how his eyes turned from suspiciousness and wariness to shock. 

It was certainly a surprise to give him a party. 

He stared in awe at the “1 year” sign hanging from the ceiling with small triangular papers as Sann pushed him inside. Passed his eyes around the faces that had become his world, not a single trace of lies, of hidden intentions behind their smiles. Just genuinely happy about having him there. 

Tony and Sasha bathed him in hugs and Jeremy pulled him to sit on the table with delicious food on it. None of it spicy, which he knew was even a bigger gift. As he was the only one there who didn’t love spicy food.

“Hey, I´m the mute one here, say something!” Sann signed next to him. 

“I…Just don´t know what to say…Thank you is too plain” his cheeks went red, pulling his eyes back to Zarai. In a silent question, pleading for instructions. 

“Don´t look at me, it was Sann´s and Sasha´s idea” The albino looked at the two with not-so-guilty grins on their faces. He suddenly felt a need to jump and hug Sasha and shower Sann in affection. Proud of him for making a party, even if it was small, it had been hard to make him feel comfortable in that setting.

“Well a thank you is more than enough” Claude said putting a cup with mulled wine on his hands, like everyone had in front of their plates. They lifted their cups, waiting for him to join. He pulled it up with just the biggest smile anyone had seen on him “Cheers!”

-

They stayed playing something called “guess” until very late into the night. A simple game where a player had to think of a movie, series or famous person and the others had to ask things like “is it an action movie?” “Animated?” “Are they gay or European?” to get to the answer. Obviously, Sann, Sasha and Albus weren’t really good at it, but it was a fun way to learn about the world they had forgotten. The pain of remembering, kind of soothed by the wine.

To which by the end of the party, Albus couldn’t carry himself to the room and had fell on the sofa telling Tony he was just fine, didn’t understand why he was so worried if he felt so good! Jeremy and Sann bonded over animated films (which were Sann’s favorites) and some math thing used in economics Sann always tried to explain to him but never could quite understand. But whatever concept he could wrap his head around had helped him to land a project with a great commission all by himself. He was really happy Sann had a friend outside of their circle now. How he seemed to enjoy it too leaked on to his own mood.

“Having fun?” Sasha tucked some of his hair behind his ear. He gave her a few nods with shut eyes. A wide smile had been there since the very beginning.

“I don’t think I’ve ever been this happy. Maybe even before” he told her in a daze. “Thank you Sasha”

He couldn´t believe it sometimes. How different his life had become since a year ago. If it hadn’t gone this way, he would still be in training, maybe just waking up from an endurance test, or maybe on a cold isolated cage. Hungry, alone, but safely away from other handlers. His body aching, but just desperate enough to be obedient and stay quiet behind the bars.

This honestly felt like a dream he didn’t want to wake up from.

“Your welcome, Al” she smiled at him before pulling him up “You will get used to this after a while. Trust me. It was difficult for me at the beginning too”

“Parties?”

“Freedom” the boy hummed as reply “Alex wasn’t a bad person. Just in need of some help, until they didn’t” she stayed quiet for a second, rubbing her wrist “It was scary to hide it, that someone would call and I would go back even with my papers in order and all, but. I guess, people also helped with that” she said looking at Tony. “Made it easier to trust” Albus knew for a fact they would marry someday. Maybe sometime on May, if Tony finally showed her the ring, so he smiled at the love-struck look on her eyes. “And maybe not forget, but keep going despite everything”

“I hope Sann feels like that someday too”

“And you too, Al. Someday” she said pointing to his neck, where the collar still stood. He let out some air. A heavy sigh, one he didn’t show the real weight of. Putting a vague smile instead.

“If you need help with that, give me a call. I will help you find them”

Albus frowned “Who?”

“The people who helped me. You called me once to ask me about them, but you never brought it up…You don´t remember?” she asked him when he only ket looking at her with a tighter frown.

“When did I do that?” Albus asked, but he never got his answer as his attention quickly sled to the boy walking their way with a large shy smile.

Sann walked to them with a guitar on his hand before he sat in front of him. Other people taking out their phones to catch the moment Sann signed this was his present for him. That he would find a way to get him what they saw at the store, making the albino chuckle, lifting himself up to be sit upright when Sann inhaled deeply and put his hand over the strings.

It was a soft tune, wrapping him in the warm feeling of a rhythm that carried you like a butterfly on the wind. Playfully doing tricks as it went higher. Having a rustic touch to it that made Albus imagine a valley of wheat swaying with a soft breeze. At the middle of it Sann’s fingers moved slower, low tones in quick succession that gained speed, Sann’s fingers moved swiftly down the strings. Squinting his eyes to try smoother down the migraine trying to come for him. Slightly pulling him out of the roll before he finished in a twist, a combination of the butterfly and the low tones that made him think of stone alleys and high windows.

When Sann lifted his eyes to see his reaction, He had to be quick to put the guitar away to receive him on his arms. Clapping and cheering, slightly drowning the messy praise the boy gave him. Mixed with a few curses followed of I love you. Low enough only Sann could hear them.

After a while, he was clinging to Sann on the sofa. His legs over his lap and his arms around his shoulders. Foreheads touching each other. Whispering little things as Sasha and Tony said their goodbyes from the door. Jeremy long gone after a friendly hug and congratulations were given.

Sann wasn’t a light drinker. He was perfectly fine while listening to a drunk and affectionate Albus, with a grin on his face. Nodding whenever the other asked a question. However nonsensical it was.

“You’re so nice, Sann” he said. Face warm and flushed. Eyes glassy like he was about to cry “You with me when you’re so great….” he pressed his forehead against the other. Slightly nuzzling. “I don’t know what I did to have you in my life, but whatever it was, it must have been very good” it became Sann’s turn to get flushed red. He suddenly pulled away and with a very serious face he stared into Sann’s gray eyes. “I love you”

Sann was frozen on his place. But he pulled up his hand, keeping his middle and annular down. Albus didn’t took long to imitate the sign.

It was a bet, but he leaned on. Sann closed his eyes, checking if there wasn’t a voice telling him if it was the right thing to do, and pressing a bit with a little smile when he found none. Soft lips meeting his and pulling apart in a quick inhale. He was surprised, however, when he tried the tip and was met with a bold reply. A hand on his hair and a twist in his mouth. Even then, careful to not let slip his hands to his bare neck. Delicious and at the same time amazing as he knew the person it was coming from. Despite that, it didn’t feel forced, or practiced until mastery. It was messy but engaging, it felt genuine. So when they pulled away with a pop, Sann was wide eyed at the albino.

“Is that a good shush?” He smirked, red eyes glittering under the moonlight.

“Dunno” Sann’s dimples showed on his cheeks “I need a second try” he signed before putting away his glasses. Feeling the boy’s hands pass to his back and pull him closer.

“Sann…” he suddenly went in the middle of the twist. Pulling away “thank you”

“…For what?”

“For everything. For…this” he said putting the same sign he did before. Pulling it down and sinking on the other’s chest “I hope you’re happy forever, however it may be” he said before Sann’s face pulled into a slightly confused frown and lulled him to sleep. Carrying him back to bed after a while.

-

In their room, Zarai slept soundly on his chest. But Claude was troubled. Ever since he had shifted jobs, he couldn’t fall asleep easily. Tonight, it was the celebration stuck on his mind. He remembered the boy’s bloody papers. So he knew the day he had arrived, was the same as his birthday.

That’s why they had made him the surprise party.

But even when Zarai had widened her eyes, even when she had found herself angry she was even more shocked to not tell him. And Claude couldn’t know if it was the right decision or not.

As he woke up with a migraine and looking overall destroyed, letting Sann prepare breakfast for all of them and feeling slightly guilty for taking a pill, but exuding a joy that couldn’t really fit on the doctor’s head. As he saw him thank Zarai for letting him rest, Claude tried to think, to believe it was for the best.

I actually based Sann´s guitar thing on this thing my dad did. You can hear it here.

[capri-ramblings]

Okay so, I'm sure it's been kinda obvious I've been down with writer's block due to the lack of actual content on my blog recently, but somehow while scrolling through Tumblr I came upon @tsuisute 's art of Lilia wearing a rather risque bat lingerie and somehow something in my self-doubting brain clicked and I came up with this short fic. It starts off pretty angsty and I'm not sure when part two is going to come out but basically it's Lilia coping with his young s/o going through a really low point in their lives but yeah, I'm sorry if this turned out kinda flat cause my writing gears are still pretty rustic but I couldn't get it out of my head until I started writing it down. So, hopefully it's good enough! 💖💖

Safe and Sound

Summary: A slight rise in detachment and tension has been visible in you lately and being the ever observant Fae he is,Lilia has a hunch it has to do with your work as a medical mage working in devastating war fractions. He tries to reach out to you, but you keep your distance. At the end of it all, will this cause a bigger gap in your relationship or will it bring the two of you closer?

Part One: To push away one's heart.

The door to the age old manor, closed heavily behind you. The after echo of your footsteps shuffling inside softly whispering into the ancestral walls.

It was odd to have come home to such a quiet place after staying a whole day at a warring border. You felt out of place,detached even. As if this house you grew up in felt horribly unfamiliar. Sometimes it scared you, and sometimes it made you sad. Either way, you tended to avoid anyone in the household from interacting with you after your working hours.

Well,you tried your best to avoid everyone at least. Lilia would always be an exception, and not because you didn't have the heart to ignore him but instead you couldn't ignore him. He'd flock right over to you the moment he'd know you were home and then anything you said to make him leave failed.

He'd always had a mind of his own after all. Things people said went through his head but it didn't necessarily mean he'd take them into consideration. It all came down to the fact that Lilia was always the one with wisdom and truth, he's lived long enough to write books on it, so maybe in a way him interrupting your Isolation was a good omen in disguise, but still, it had you gritting your teeth each time he came up to pull you in an embrace or pat your head.

Today seemed to be no different, as you made your way to the staircase and saw Lilia waiting at the top of it with his usual beaming grin.

You didn't want to meet his gaze then. Something inside of you churned and boiled at seeing someone be so comfortable and gleeful.

"Welcome back,little lantern!" Lilia greeted,his deep red eyes sharing the smile he wore on his lips.

You felt your brows furrowed, but answered him with a slight nod. "Where's Silver and Malleus?", you asked as your bristled pass him at the top stairs and headed for the hallways that lead to the rows of bedrooms. Lilia followed behind you.

"They've gone off, somewhere,well, Malleus went off somewhere then Silver went to go look for him"

"Sebek?", You glanced over your shoulder. Lilia lent a smile your way.

"Training, as always. He wanted to tag along with Silver, but he has a competition later this month, Silver told him to stay and practice"

You let out a small hum, your pace absent as you walked right pass your bedroom door and Lilia had to tell you you had missed it. And as he went to push open your door, your limbs felt forlorn and worn out. There was such a strong urge to simply just fall flat onto your bedroom floor and pass out, but Lilia kept his careful gaze on you and ushered you inside the room, with your bag already in his grip.

Years living with him, and you still couldn't fathom how he did certain things without being noticed.

"A whole day and you've already forgotten where you sleep. Tsk,tsk,tsk...my little lantern has lost their touch of home"

With your back to him as you took off your jacket, Lilia came and wrapped his arms around your waist,the sudden warmth of his body pressing up against you causing you to go stiff.

"Lilia–"

"You should stay home for the week". He murmured,soft and low it sounded almost as if he was pleading.

You placed your hands over his on your waist.

"I can't. They're already short handed over at the border, and even if I am just a medic, it'd be too chaotic to just leave them like that"

"You need your rest, lantern"

"Then leave me alone."

The words left you bitter and taut. A string of unsaid wounds lingering at the back of each enunciation you gritted your teeth on. Your hands clenched over his and the way your chest heaved gave the impression that you could hardly take in another breath.

Lilia released you, and you walked over to your desk and sat down. Your head hurt, and your heart didn't seem to know why it was aching.

"I just need to be alone is all. I don't need you to dote over me,Lilia,I just..."

What did you want? Peace maybe. After seeing all that bloodshed in a single land while its people dropped dead like flies, two years working as a medical mage felt like an eternity of attempting to save people who had half of their bodies blown off as they cried and begged and sputtered out blood.

You wished you'd gone blind, but then again the screaming would have haunted you all the same.

Warring fractions were just a few in the Fae Kingdom, mostly because the lands and people involved in it would've died out before help could even reach them, but still, those that remained became cursed and bloody. A sight you wished you could burn out from your very thoughts.

You never had talent like Silver or Sebek, let alone Malleus himself, but Lilia said you always had a knack for healing, always being the caretaker even amongst your peers. Thus, you dedicated yourself to the one thing you were good at and became an active medical mage. From in-house check ups to risking your neck at war borders, you did what you could and suffered from what you couldn't.

You wanted to save everyone on the field, dying or not,but too many times you saw that hope of yours crushed right before your eyes, and it took its toll on you. At night, you hear the warning sirens and in the morning when you wake up, you dreaded to see the smiling faces of your companions, because you've started to wonder if by horrible fate itself, they laid dying in front of you, could you actually help them?

Vehemently, you pushed back the cry burning in your throat and shut your eyes tight.

'Forget it' . You told yourself. 'You don't have to remember. Just forget.'

It hurt for Lilia to watch you then. Something other than paternal grief overwhelming him. He'd known you've been dragging your own spirit down for a while now, but you were so adamant on avoiding the topic, he hesitated on confronting you about it. After all, it was your pain, your own sorrows, who was he to demand you to show him the scars and wounds you hid away?

He wanted to help you, to do anything he could to soothe your ache. But he couldn't do a single thing if you wouldn't let him.

"I'll leave you be then" Lilia said,soft and endearing, almost as if he was cooing to a child. "Rest well,my little lantern"

[collectionofcherries]

👀couldnt help but notice you talking about hannibal in your billy loomis imagine 👀 also couldnt help but to notice thats in your fandom list 👀 maybe you should shoot your shot with an imagine with hanni 👀

So over on my Naruto blog I did a little fluff piece called Morning Coffee that everyone seemed to enjoy so I thought I'd bring it here. It’s a simple concept, it follows your morning to the start of your cup to the end of it. Hope you enjoy! --- ☕ Morning Coffee ☕

---

written in the mind-frame of a Female!Reader but there are no pronouns mentioned nor gender specific anatomical body parts.  Warnings: None, flirting with the idea of smut but no actual smut. Sexual longing maybe? Word Count: 1,155

--- Hannibal Lecter

   Having coffee with a friend shouldn't have been this stressful, being this stressed in the morning couldn't be good for you but it wasn't like you could help it. How are you supposed to dress for morning coffee with a man who practically lives in three piece suits? Formal? Business casual? Casual casual? Your clothing covered floor seemed to bare no answers as you stared at what you swore was everything you owned...had everything always been this ugly? God! Why did you even propose a breakfast together? Hannibal does dinner but no you had to pitch breakfast to be different and try to impress him, yeah you're sure he'd be impressed by the amount of clothing on the floor. If you'd been like everyone else and just gone for dinner you'd have more time to try on clothes but a look at the clock told you that you had to leave now or you'd be late and that'd be terrible, that'd be rude and Hannibal can't stand people who're rude. However messy your floor was it was worth it for the compliment you got when Hannibal opened his door to greet you. “I don't see you in colour often, red looks lovely on you.”     Well, guess you're wearing red for the rest of your life.     "Oh thank you.” Finds it's way out of your throat as your face is painted the colour that apparently looks lovely on you.     “Please, come in.” He welcomes stepping to the side to allow room.    You never gave much thought to what a foyer could be, yours is technically where you just kick off your shoes and put your keys but this, this was proper foyer. Just the entrance to his house was nice. God it was big too, he could probably rent it out to a poor college kid for like 500 bucks if he wanted not that he looked like he needed the extra money. Did you even know how to say Foyer properly? You bet Hannibal did, without a doubt he knew all those fancy French words--was that word even French? Oh no, what if you were stupid and it wasn't French? What if this wasn't even a foyer? How dumb were you? H-- hands came up to your shoulders jolting you out of your spiral. Hannibal gently pulls the edges of your jacket and you immediately understand. “Thank you.” You repeat once again.    He smiles with a nod as he slides your jacket off of you with your help and hangs it up on a beautiful wood stand you're sure costs more than half your rent. Thinking about how much money was within these walls could make your head spin but that spinning is halted by the soothing tones of his voice. “Lost in thought?” He inquired.    “Uh, just early morning brain fog you know?” You try to bluff.    It's not convincing but he nods anyway. “Perhaps some coffee would help.”     “Sounds good.” You agree.    Following him through his house only furthers your awe, you could spent a lifetime in here just looking at stuff. “I thought it'd be pleasant to make breakfast together instead of having it ready, eating together is one experience but preparing a meal is another entirely.” He explained    The idea of sharing an experience with Hannibal was one that filled you with butterflies, the more you thought about it you didn't think you'd heard of Hannibal cooking with anyone else, maybe the stress of this morning would pay off after all. “I'm not a chef but I'll do my best, what're we making?”     “Uova al purgatorio.” Which leads to a bit of a blank stare on your end, as pretty as it sounds you've got no idea what that means. “It's an Italian dish, eggs in Purgatory.” He explained.    “Sounds interesting.” You quip.    “It is, the name comes from the eggs sitting in a tomato base, the white of the eggs floating within the red sauce giving the illusion of souls trapped within the unknown of Purgatory.” He explains as he prepares the boiling water for your coffee. “Even at breakfast it seems we wonder where our souls go to lay.”     “Well makes sense for Italy home of the Pope, I'm sure there's religious overtones at most meals.”    He smiles a little and nods. “During my time in Italy it truly does surround you, it's an interesting feeling, almost euphoric to be encapsulated by it at every

turn.” He remarked.    “Wow, you spent time in Italy? It looks beautiful there.” You say, trying to stray a little further from the religious aspect, you don't exactly know where Hannibal falls on that spectrum and the last thing you want to do is come across rude or disrespectful to him. “Coffee smells great.” You add as he pours the boiling water into his very fancy looking French Press.    Your attempt to change subjects doesn't go unnoticed at all but he once again nods as he looks at you. “Yes, I traveled quite a bit in my youth, I called Italy my home for some time.” He explains.     “Do you ever miss it?” You ask    “I take with me what I relish in the places I've been, while I may no longer be surrounded by the Primavera or the walls of Santa Maria della Concezione dei Cappuccini they are ever present in my mind, reproduced with the utmost detail.” You could listen to Hannibal talk all day, it wouldn't matter what he said you just like the way he said things, the timbre of his voice. “Have you ever given thought to travelling?” He prodded.    “Course, who doesn't think about travelling? See far off places, experience new people, new things, different cultures.” You reminisce.    “What stops you?”     You shrug a little. “Funds mainly but I'd want to take the time to learn the language of where I'm going, understand the culture so I don't offend anyone. I don't want to be one of those tourists that makes an ass out of themselves.” You said cringing at the end.    “It's considerate to take the time to understand a culture you will not live in, many go on whims like they're visiting amusement parks.” He agreed. “Would Italy be a place you'd like to visit or would you find their taste for religion leaving a sour taste in your mouth?” He asked.    Did you really think you'd get out of a question Hannibal wanted answered? You shrugged a little once again trying to make sure you phrase things that wouldn't step on toes that were in shoes that likely cost more than your rent. “I'm unsure...I don't know if my broader and more open views would be welcome in the narrower scope of such a religious place and I wouldn't want to impose myself or my views upon anyone.” You slowly clamber out as he pours two cups of what smells like incredibly coffee. “Thank you.” You quickly add as you take it from his hands.    “While I do know you enough to welcome you into my home, I'm not sure if I know you well enough to know of the open views you believe would be scrutinized under the gaze of the Church. Do you speak a broader view of all religions? Racial rights? Sexual appetite?”     You stomach almost leaps into your throat at the last question, talking sexual appetites with someone who could feed that said appetite for the rest of your life? How were you supposed to talk about that? You didn't want to impose but you certainly didn't want to miss any chance of feeding that appetite. “All of the above, you know?” You pitch at first. “I'm a big believer in religious freedoms for everyone, from anywhere--just freedom for everyone in general.” You tackle first, that's the more important one and the one that won't get you into any trouble. “And um--yeah I suppose my sexual appetite wouldn't please the Church.” You say with a small laugh breaking your gaze from Hannibal and down at your coffee cup. “Not exactly a born again virgin.” Smooth. Great job. Wow. Fuck. Maybe you could drown yourself in this coffee? You take a sip and to spite being too shy to ask for sugar or milk this coffee is great, actually smooth. Unlike you. “This is great, what is this?” You try.    Why do you try? He always notices, you're luckier than you know that it endlessly amuses him rather than annoys him. “It's Peaberry Coffee from Tanzania, it's a rounder sweeter bean, almost tea like.” He explains, allowing for a moment for you to believe you've somehow fooled him into letting his prior question go thoroughly unanswered. “It can take a more refined palette to taste all the notes.” He remarks.    “I don't know how refined mine is, I just know it's nice.”

You admit with a small laugh.    “Usually our tongues know more than we think, close your eyes and allow the flavours to dance over your tongue.” He instructed.    Hannibal could tell you to jump off a cliff and if he said it nice enough you probably would. You take a small breath and take another sip and try your damnest to impress Hannibal if only even a little but as you swallow you know your guesses are little more than shots in the dark. “It's sweet...kind of like a berry...?” You weakly pitch.    You're not wrong but Hannibal can tell your guess isn't confident. “Do you know you have a habit of coming in on yourself when you're unsure of what you're saying?” He asks letting you know he's been on to you for much longer than you would have hoped. He comes around from his large kitchen island to stand in front of you and you fight the urge to step back and away which only adds to how hard your heart beats in your chest. “Coming in on ones self allows negative neurons to fire, by simply lifting your head you'll allude more confidence and though red looks lovely on you so does that.” That compliment alone made your head spin so his next action of bringing his warm hand up to gently lift your head? Your entire body felt weak. It was laughable that the simple touch of his thumb resting on your chin and his forefinger below it could have such an effect on you, looking up at him him with unsure eyes as to where this went next was laughable to him. You were putty in his hands, vulnerable in every meaning of the word. "Try again, close your eyes and when you take a sip allow it to work around your mouth, to explore every inch of your tongue.”    Was this porn? This could be porn, this might as well be porn as far as your body was concerned apparently. It took you a moment to actually get your limbs to move and grab your coffee again and it felt good to close your eyes, you liked Hannibal but being so close and having him stare back at you was overwhelming. And he knew it, there was something very satisfying about your kind of vulnerability, it was raw and open for him to touch and mold with his hands. You brought the cup to your lips and took another sip and once again tried to find a defined note in this coffee and maybe it was having your head tilted up, maybe it was having him so close but an answer did come from your mouth. “Cedar?”    Opening your eyes you knew you'd gotten it right by the contented look you were rewarded with. "I had a hunch your tongue knew more than you were letting on.” He teased.    He let his thumb trail back and forth on your chin before moving it away and your head felt like it was floating. “What does your tongue taste? I'm sure it's much more experienced than mine.”     You're sure if you didn't feel so floaty such a blatantly flirty question wouldn't have come out of you but it seemed to fly just fine as a small amused breath made it's way out of him. “Your assumption would be correct.” He let you know. “The notes in this coffee I've become very acquainted with over the years so it wouldn't be much of an exercise in taste for me to tell you them all. Perhaps another breakfast we could expand upon both our tongues.” Your entire body clenched and you had to practically drown out your whine of want by taking a sip of your coffee. “For now we'll be expanding on yours, come, wash up I'll show you how to make uova al purgatorio, a taste from my past.” He said walking back around the kitchen island.    You follow him around the island and with one last sip put your empty coffee cup into the sink. --- ~Admin Coral 🍒 Buy Me A Coffee?

[jaskierswolf]

The Viscount and The Witcher pt.1/4

(Note: Reposted from my old blog. The rest can be found on my Ao3 or on my pinned masterlist)

Viscount Julian Alfred Pankratz de Lettenhove was bored. He’d been bored for some time now. In his youth he’d dreamed of becoming a travelling bard. He’d even focused his time in Oxenfurt on the liberal arts and had graduated quite successfully from the academy, but before he’d even begun his journey to becoming renowned troubadour, he’d been called back to his family home. The news of his father’s death had been an unfortunate one and he’d been forced to step up and become head of his vast estate.

There had been a moment, in the dead of night, witching hour, when he’d very nearly picked up his lute and fled.

He hadn’t.

He’d turned over and gone back to sleep. He did have a rather luxurious bed and he’d not been short of company to fill it with. He often wondered what would have become of him if he had run away that night, at barely eighteen. He often dreamed of the songs he could have written, the people he could have met, the adventures he could have had.

A deep part of him sorely regretted the path not taken.

Instead he drowned his sorrows in the most delicious wine from Toussaint and lured beautiful people to his bedchamber. He was determined to enjoy the few pleasures left to him in gluttonous amounts.

He gazed out of the window of his study into the gardens. They were stunning at this time of year. They weren’t the most well kept gardens, but he liked that. He enjoyed the wild long grass and the litany of yellow, white and purple weeds that sprung up in the summer. The sounds of bees filled the air, a constant low buzzing that he found both soothing and wildly distracting. He enjoyed a long stroll in the gardens when he wasn’t buried under paperwork. Quite frankly he didn’t give a rat’s ass about the different silk sheets used in the guest bedrooms or whether the local houses were paying their taxes in time. Wouldn’t it be wonderful if all of that diplomatic nonsense just disappeared?

Poverty could become a thing of the past. He’d given away vast amounts of his fortune whenever he could convince his lawyers to let the assets go but his estate only thrived more as the farmers, workers and merchants were able to work more efficiently and invested more funding into their livelihoods.

He couldn’t begrudge them that but he felt guilty for owning so much when they lived on so little so he kept feeding his money back into the surrounding villages and they kept growing and expanding their homes and businesses.

None of the surrounding lords or barons could understand how he did it.

He couldn’t exactly explain it himself.

He had been hoping to run his estate into the ground so he could run off and have the heroic adventures that he’d always dreamed of. Perhaps he would even run into one of those witchers. He was fascinated by witchers. He always had been, ever since he was a boy and he’d heard the rumours of the Butcher of Blaviken, Geralt of Rivia. The rumours were that the man had slaughtered an entire village with his bare hands in some kind of blood-fuelled frenzy.

Julian didn’t believe that for a second.

He’d snuck down to the library and buried himself under books, scrolls and parchments, anything in his father’s great library with even the whiff of a witcher. He’d read bestiaries and fairytales, utterly bewitched by the tales of fae, vampires and werewolves. He devoured everything he could by candlelight. It was what had driven him to his chosen career as a bard. He wanted to experience those stories himself, he needed to live it. His thirst for knowledge and innate curiosity had seen him through Oxenfurt with ease. He’d been able to spend far too long in taverns and brothels whilst his peers studied books and manuscripts that he’d read within the first months of attending the famous school. The library had been enviable and he’d been unable to stay away for months.

He sighed dramatically. It had all been a fucking waste of time. He closed the leather-bound book he’d been scrawling in, even after all these years he couldn’t help the flashes of creative inspiration that hit him. It was like a vampire’s thirst, burning in his throat and heart. He had to write, he had to play and sing and dance. He ran his fingers along the underside of his writing desk until he heard a faint click and a drawer popped open. He tucked the book neatly into the draw beneath the pressed dandelion.

Dandelion.

It was to be his stage name had he followed through with his plans.

He’d kept the pressed yellow flower as a reminder. He picked it up and twirled it between his fingers before sighing loudly.

“Master Dandelion, renowned troubadour and poet.” He pouted before gently returning the flower to its cage and closing the drawer shut, it vanished into the wooden desk without a trace. “I supposed it is quite poetic,” He whined. “I am like the flower trapped in my own cage from which I cannot escape. The flower which holds my name and soul shares my fate.”

He groaned and bumped his head against the desk. The long feather in his hat flopped down, tickling his nose. He promptly sneezed.

“Ah. To the gods! Even my own hat hates me.” He moaned.

Thankfully he was pulled from his self-pity by a knock at the door. He jumped to his feet and straightened his hat, tucking the treacherous heron feather back into place.

“Come in!” He trilled.

Annabelle, a pretty redhead and one of his longest serving maids entered the room. “ Lord Lettenhove.” Annabelle curtsied.

Julian rolled his eyes and pulled the girl to her feet. “Annabelle, dearest, how many times must I ask you to call me Julian and none of this grovelling nonsense. Tell me, how are your family? Your mother was sick, is she feeling any better? I trust she received the medicine I sent.”

Annabelle blushed and smiled up at him. “Yes Lord Let - Lord Julian. Thank you very much. You are too kind to us.”

“My darling, I simply have nothing better to do with my fortune than ensure my staff are well looked after. How’s the little one, Eleanor if I remember correctly?”

“Yes, Lord Julian. She’s growing up fast. My sister told me she started to crawl yesterday.” Annabelle answered meekly.

Julian gasped and put his hand to his chest. “And you missed it! Oh my dear, my sincerest apologies.”

Annabelle shook her head. “I love my job, Lord Julian. There is no reason to apologise. You’ve already done far too much for my family.”

It was Julian’s time to blush. He hated how much his staff revered him, didn’t they realise his motivations were purely selfish? He just wanted to get out of this house! He wanted to leave them. They just didn’t see any of that but he didn’t let his frustration show. “Now now, they’ll be time to sing my praises later, my dear, what was it that you needed? We are not due another order from the farms yet are we?”

The girl laughed quietly. “No, nothing like that. Forgive me, Lord Julian, I don’t mean to make assumptions.”

She shuffled awkwardly on her feet. “Well go on! Don’t keep me in suspense like this.” He pouted with a hand on his hips.

“There’s a rumour going round, Lord Julian.” She blushed. “About a witcher in one of the outer villages. They were having problems on the full moon. Mysterious and gruesome murders.”

Julian wanted to jump for joy.

A real witcher.

On his land.

“Oh my!” He clapped his hands together. “We must send for him at once!” He ran to his desk and pulled out a sheet of parchment. “Now tell me Annabelle what monsters are more enticing to a monster hunter, vampires or werewolves?” He scoffed before she could answer. “No no, that’s too obvious, and unbearably dull. Nekkers? Oooh, what about a draconid? A forktail perhaps?”

Annabelle kept opening and closing her mouth but there was no interrupting Julian when he got like this. He barely even noticed he still had company.

“Or a wraith!” He laughed gaily. “Oh yes that will do nicely! A wraith haunting the attic! Then we may get to see the witcher in action, oh the tales I could write! Maybe I could publish them under a pseudonym, Master Dandelion may yet still live!”

His hands flew over the paper as he scrawled as quickly and elegantly as he could. Once he was finished he read it over quickly, cornflower blue eyes scanning over the words quick as lightning.

     My dear witcher,    

     On behalf of Viscount Julian Alfred Pankratz de Lettenhove, I would like to thank you for offering your services to assist our villagers with their furry little problem. I write this letter before the news of your success has reached me but I have no doubt that you will succeed in your quest! You must tell me whether you have slain the beast or cured it of the lycanthropy. I await the tale of your heroic adventure with great anticipation.    

     The Lord Lettenhove requests your presence at his estate. You see, my dearest witcher, we have a little pest problem of our own. A wraith haunts the house and our poor chambermaids are quite at their wits end with fright.    

     I beseech you. Don’t delay.    

     Yours, Dandelion.    

He chuckled at the name. He was going to have a lot of fun with this witcher, whoever it maybe, and he didn’t need the witcher knowing exactly who he was just yet. He sealed the letter swiftly and all but shoved poor Annabelle from the room so that she could deliver it hastily.

He followed after her and practically ran down the corridor and up the stairs to the master bedroom. He flung open his wardrobe as he hummed a new melody under his breath. He needed to choose an outfit. Something that was less Viscount and more genius bard.

He stripped off his golden doublet and trousers in exchange for his favourite plum set. It had intricate embroidery around the collar that he just adored. He paired the doublet with a white undershirt with lace around the cuffs and collar.

He took off his hat and twirled a strand of his soft golden blond hair in between his fingers. He’d been growing it out lately, he was really just so bored, and he’d been considering experimenting with some curling irons like he’d seen his cook use. He was certain that Hanna would show him how to use them if he asked nicely.

But did he have enough time for that?

He still needed to set up his wraith problem, and it needed to be convincing enough to keep the witcher around long enough to get to know him, perhaps he could even lure the man to his bedroom if he were that way inclined.

Gods he hoped he was.

It had been too long since Julian, no, Dandelion, had had a male lover.

Well, if he was planning to seduce the man then he really should look his best but first he needed to make sure that they stage was set. He picked up his old forgotten lute from the corner of the bedroom, gently trailing a finger down the neck of the instrument before quickly plucking at the strings and fiddling with the pegs to make sure she was still in tune.

“I am so sorry darling.” He cooed to the instrument. “It’s been too long.”

He tucked her into his old lute case and appraised his reflection in his mirror.

“Hmm…” He stuck his tongue out as he concentrated. “Not quite right. Oh yes! My hat!” He swiped up a matching plum coloured bonnet and pinned a feather in place because plopping it onto his head. He looked back at his reflection with a furrowed brow and then inspiration hit him and he tilted his hat so he fell slightly to one side. “Perfect!”

He giggled and bowed dramatically to his reflection. “Master Dandelion, at your service!” He grinned seductively.

Oh this witcher would have no idea what hit him.

[dessarious]

The Angel of Death Pt8

Inspired by this Story Starter by @someone-ev

AO3   Prologue   Beginning   Previous   Next

Marinette was seated cross legged on the bed with the Peafowl Miraculous in front of her. Her hands were turned up on her knees and Plagg and Tikki sat in either palm. Everything was still a bit too vague for her piece of mind but given their interactions she didn’t think the Kwami wanted to hurt her. She wasn’t certain they could while she was in possession of their Miraculous. Tikki flew up to address her.

“You’ve meditated before I assume?” Marinette just nodded. “Good. What we need you to do is just close your eyes and breath deeply, being relaxed as possible. You’ll likely feel a pull or tugging sensation and may start feeling drained. It’s perfectly normal but if you start fighting it it will get worse.”

“Should I be visualizing or concentrating on anything specific?” She was used to things being out of her control, Talia and the League had made sure of that, so it shouldn’t be difficult to do as Tikki asked.

“It’s probably best if you focus here.” Tikki flew forward and gently tapped the center of her forehead. “It will help us draw the energy we need though it is not necessary. It may also help ease any discomfort that comes up.” Marinette frowned at the Kwami’s tone.

“There’s something you’re not telling me.” Tikki shared a look with Plagg and she knew she was right. Plagg let out a huff and joined the other Kwami hovering in front of her.

“It’s not dangerous kit, I promise, but especially given that Duusu is the Kwami of emotion there may be some pushback. Given the little we know of your past it could open old emotional wounds that you would prefer to stay buried.” They both looked genuinely worried. For her part, Marinette just figured she’d survived it once, she could do it again.

“I’m sure it will be fine.” The Kwami shared a look she couldn’t interpret but she just closed her eyes and began to relegate her breathing. Once it was at a proper pace she did as Tikki had asked and concentrated on the spot they had touched. She swore she could still feel it but put it down to her imagination. She felt the Kwami move back to their positions in her hands but she kept focused on that spot and her breathing.

She didn’t notice any changes at first, but soon found herself becoming too warm. She could tell it wasn’t the room but rather heat coming from her own body. It was a mild discomfort though so she pushed it out of her mind and resumed her focus. That’s when she realized she could actually feel the energy being pulled from her, or rather through her. Yes some of her own energy was mixed it but it felt more like she was a funnel and Tikki and Plagg were directing the energy pouring through her. It was strange certainly but not uncomfortable

The longer it lasted, the more aware she became. Instead of just feeling the energy as it rushed through her she could also feel the way Tikki and Plagg were separating it and directing it into the Miraculous on the bed. She also began to see the different threads of energy flowing through her and unconsciously began separating them herself and feeding them to the Kwami. It was actually really soothing, and it seemed to speed up the process. She was so distracted by it she didn’t notice the sudden burst of energy flowing back from the Miraculous until it was too late.

When it hit her she heard herself yelp and her hands flew to her head as images and the emotions that went with them swirled through her mind. There was no pattern to how or when they showed up. One second she felt the agony of Damian’s string snapping, the next was the fear of her younger self as she was being transported away from Paris. So many conflicting thoughts and emotions she couldn’t do anything but whimper as they tore through her. She tried to force them to come one at a time at least, but when she did manage it she wished she hadn’t.

It was the day after they’d returned to the Leagues base. Talia insisted that she spar with Damian with no training to prove her worth. It was like she was actually reliving it. She knew what would happen but had no control over her own body. Damian seemed less than thrilled with the idea but it was obvious he wouldn’t go against his mother. After he threw her to the ground the first time his mother waited for Marinette to get back up before saying ‘Again’. Damian looked like he wanted to argue but didn’t. It went on like that for what felt like hours. Damian would hit or throw her and Talia would say again every time she got back up. Her entire body felt like it was covered in bruises and scrapes. At one point Damian even told her to just stay down, but some part of her knew that wasn’t an option. It only ended when Damian finally knocked her out.

Marinette came back to the present slowly as the pounding in her head began to lessen. Suddenly, Plagg’s warning about the pushback made a lot more sense. She felt drained, like she hadn’t slept in days and her entire body was tense. She slowly forced each of her muscles to relax before trying to open her eyes. When she did she found four anxious Kwami staring at her.

“Tris, are you okay?” Nooroo’s voice was about an octave higher than before so she had a feeling that none of them were expecting the backlash to be this bad.

“I’m so sorry!” Marinette tried to focus on the blueish blur in front of her. “I couldn’t stop it, the energy was flowing too fast.” She just nodded. So it had been her fault then. If she hadn’t been feeding it out to the other Kwami the way she did things wouldn't have been so bad.

“My fault. Shouldn’t have helped without asking.” Or knowing what she was even doing. The more she came to her senses the more she felt something different. She could still feel the energy all around them. It was incredibly easy to pick out different strands even though she couldn’t tell what they all were. That was interesting.

“What do you mean helped?” Tikki’s voice was confused more than anything.

“I separated the energy before it got to the two of you.” The Kwami shared a look and she realized they hadn’t noticed.

“I just thought it was easier because we were getting used to it. You could actually feel the different types of energy?” Plagg’s question caused all of them to stare at her. That couldn’t be good.

“I still can. It’s everywhere. Is it supposed to be?” None of them answered and that worried her. These were tiny gods who had been around for millennia and they were looking at her like they’d discovered a new species. Finally Tikki broke out of her stupor.

“Yes, it’s normal for it to be everywhere but we’ve never encountered a human that became aware of it without training, let alone what you’re describing.” Just what she needed, one more thing to make her abnormal.

AO3  Prologue  Beginning   Previous     Next

Ko-Fi

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[god7072therescue]

Mysme Fluff Week 2020 Day 3/ Household Chores

Hello everyone!! I know its been a loooong while, but I am wanting to dip my toes back into writing and reviving this blog! I thought the perfect way to do this is to contribute to the amazing fluff of @mmfluffweek. We all need this right now, right? So here is one of my contributions to this hella cool project! 

The fic is about Zen cleaning his apartment when MC is about to move in. Hope You guys like it! 

You can find my master list here! 

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Zen wore a large grin on his face as he stared at the time on his cell phone. It was almost midnight, early in the evening for him. A picture of MC and himself holding one another in a playful embrace let out a bright light among the dark space around him. He watched a minute pass before he turned his phone off and leaned back into his chair with a content sigh. 

Tomorrow was finally the day MC would be moving into his apartment. Not just staying the night, nor staying for a weekend, but actually living with him. She would never have to pry herself away from his too tight hugs when she would have to return home again. The thought made Zen feel giddy, almost like he was back in high school reading through theater scripts for the first time. 

His eyes scanned over the apartment, trying to imagine the little touches she would add as she made herself at home. How many of her paintings would she hang on the walls? How much of his and her stuff would have to be put in storage so the two could live in a harmonious space? Whatever the answer was, he knew it would be the best because MC would finally be living with him. This would become their home. 

However, the longer Zen inspected the apartment, he began to notice some aspects that would need to change when MC arrived. Has his place always been this messy? There were empty beer cans laying on the ground along with sheet mask wrappers from the nights before. Were those crumbs on the carpet always there when MC stayed over? Dust was on almost every surface, especially on his dinosaur of a computer. Would he finally be able to get rid of his outdated computer? MC had jokingly mentioned that she would be bringing her PC with her to replace Zen’s relic of a computer. He pouted playfully at the time but was secretly relieved because damn the thing was terribly slow. 

A rising feeling of urgency began to rush through him. Did he expect his jagiya to come live in this? This environment was no place for MC! MC deserved to arrive to a spotless apartment to create her new home with him. He called her his princess on a daily basis, but this new palace is definitely not worthy of her. As he pondered the thought longer, he came to wonder how in the hell MC dealt with this constantly cluttered space. He could use his busy lifestyle as an excuse, but MC was just as busy as he was and still managed to keep her apartment decent at least. 

Zen sprung to his feet in a slight panic as he realized just how little time he had to clean the apartment before her early morning arrival. If he worked efficiently and effectively, he could manage to make the apartment bearable. This meant Zen could not afford to find items he thought were lost and stand around to reminisce about them. He threw his ivory hair into a ponytail as he began to make a mental list of what to focus on first.

Thus, began the long evening of Zen’s cleaning journey. His journey consisted of and is not limited to: 

Making a valiant effort to avoid nostalgia but failing miserably every time he would find a lost photo or ticket stub 

Wondering how one man could consume so much beer in a short amount of time

Quickly throwing out cigarette boxes found in mysterious places

Being amazed at how much of his and MC’s hair was found lying around 

Throwing out all of his sauces because they were expired

Hastily washing, drying, and folding laundry 

Putting the dinosaur computer out of its misery 

Creating a coin jar for all of the loose change he found

Cursing Yoosung for the amount of potato chip bags and crumbs under the cushion of the couch

Sweeping, mopping, and vacuuming in a near sprint

Tripping over the vacuum cord multiple times 

The bathroom

By the time Zen considered his cleaning activities dealt with, he collapsed into clean bedsheets at 5:00 AM. He was startled awake by a loud knock on his apartment door. The sudden, loud noise caused him to jolt out of bed with a loud curse. “Hyun? Are you awake?” The familiar voice soothed the panic in Zen’s chest. It was his MC at the door, waiting to be let in one last time before she had a key of her very own. Just the thought of it brought a lopsided smile to Zen’s face. “Give me a moment, jagiya!” He had his teeth brushed, deodorant on, and a baseball cap on his head in record time before he greeted his jagiya. He laughed lightly when he heard the light pings of a mobile rhythm game MC had played around him a good bit. When he opened the door, he reveled in the sight of her angelic face scrunched up in determination. “Now you give me a moment, “She muttered in sheer concentration, “I’m about to beat this level.” He leaned against the doorway as he watched her. She looked ready to put in some work based on the outfit she chose for the day. Her hair was thrown under a baseball cap, an old paint stained T-shirt he’d seen her take naps in, and a pair of his old grey sweatpants she took from him early in their relationship had never looked so beautiful on her. MC let out a soft “yes” in victory then quickly put her phone in her pocket. Her eyes looked joyous when she lifted her head to speak with him, but they quickly turned concerned when she saw the dark circles under Zen’s eyes. “Zenny, did you get any sleep last night?” She brought her hand up to softly cup his cheek, “You look exhausted.” Zen was caught up peering deeply into the depths of her warm eyes before giving MC a sheepish smile, “I was too excited to sleep.” That was not a lie. He just didn’t want to tell her he spent the entire night frantically cleaning. Her face was slightly flushed in worry, but all of the cleaning he had done the night before was all worth it. Her being happy and comfortable was what mattered most to him. Losing a few hours of sleep was a small price to pay.

His eyes roamed over her face to memorize exactly how she looked before him. This was an important milestone for the two of them, he wanted to make sure he captured the moment. Maybe they could take a picture as a memento if she was not too tired after this.

Over the course of their relationship, Zen wondered if she could get anymore beautiful with each passing day. Today was not an exception. Her face was bare, probably because she knew she would be sweating during the day. She had always been self-conscious without make up, but he could not understand why. She was stunning regardless. He had always told her he would find his jagiya gorgeous whether she wore makeup or not. She looked at him with a glowering expression before standing on her tiptoes to give him a quick peck on the lips. The feeling of her soft lips caused him to lose his train of thought for a moment, so much so, he missed the bill of her baseball cap forcing his own to fall off of his head. She giggled as she leaned back to see his bed head. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to do that.” The timbre of her voice was playful as she picked up his hat for him. She handed it back with a content sigh. The look on her face was one he recognized from their time together. This relaxed expression was what she wore when she was curled up on the couch reading her favorite book with a lit candle on the nightstand beside her. This expression meant she felt comfortable. At home. 

He took the hat from her gently and placed it back on his head. A newfound energy was flowing through him as he looked down at her serene, beautiful face. He was ready to experience the scenarios he had imagined of her making a place in his home and it looked like she was too. “You ready to start our little adventure, jagiya?” He held out his hand to her as he pushed himself from the doorframe. She took his hand in hers and squeezed it lightly, almost in an unspoken promise. “I’ve been looking forward to this for months, Hyun.” 

Hearing his name from her lips filled his chest with pride as he began to lead them down the hallway. “Then let’s make it happen, jagiya.” 

With the combined determination of the couple, they were able to move all of her belongings into the apartment by late afternoon. Zen made a point to carry as many boxes as he could to show MC how strong her prince is. He also didn’t want her to overexert herself; his princess deserved to be taken care of. 

Now thoroughly exhausted, Zen sat on the couch as he watched MC unpack her belongings while humming to herself. Little trinkets she had collected over the years were piling up on Zen’s coffee table as she organized them by which room they would be in. She looked as if she was already at home. The domestic aura was enough for him to let his mind wander towards the future. Is this what having a family meant?

MC had always had this effect on him, no matter where they were or what they were doing. He didn’t feel the constant need to defend and fight for the right to be loved as he did when he lived with his parents. Since the beginning, MC had always supported Zen and made him feel valued. Hell, after one week she had made him feel more loved than he had ever felt in his life.

This milestone felt like a second chance at finding and building his own family with her. 

He was pulled from his thoughts when MC plopped on the couch beside him, pulled her legs underneath her, and leaned into his side. She rested her head on his shoulder as he immediately placed his arm around her. 

“Did you clean the apartment for me, Hyun?” Her voice was laced with appreciation as she lifted her head slightly so she could study his face. 

His cheeks flushed slightly in embarrassment as he pulled her closer to him. “Well of course, jagiya, my princess deserves the absolute best.” She kissed his cheek before nestling her head back on his shoulder. “It looks wonderful, Hyun. Thank you.” He felt her relax into his side as she looked around the apartment herself. There were still many boxes that needed to be unpacked and almost all of the rooms needed to be rearranged, but they both knew it would all be worth it in the end. 

She took his hand in hers and began to idly stroke the inside of his palm. The feeling of her fingers grazing against his skin brought him a sense of peace. He made a soft noise of approval and placed a small kiss on the top of her head. This was exactly what Zen imagined every day since the two had started dating. Just the two of them enjoying each other’s presence, not thinking of when one would have to leave the other. 

“Let’s have a relaxing night tonight, Hyun,” MC said in a tranquil voice, “The boxes will be here tomorrow.” Zen’s heart melted at her suggestion. “That sounds absolutely perfect, MC.” The evening consisted of face masks, take out, massages, and a movie marathon before the two dozed off in the each other’s arms on the couch. Just as Zen was dozing off, thoughts of MC feeling like home drifted through his mind.

[ghive]

three chords ⋆  shawn mendes x reader

inspired by because i had you by shawn mendes

a/n: this is definitely not my first time writing for shawn, but it is my first time posting my work on this blog! initially, i wanted to write a few blurbs first, but this is my debut i guess! i planned this in may because i was planning on writing fics for every song on sm3, which obviously didn’t happen, but now it’s august and i’m finally done. yay for lily.

also i obviously don’t currently have a taglist but if you wanna be added you can send me an ask (or a request!) here

warnings: angst, swearing, anxiety attack

word count: 3.4k

playlist

the 1 ⋆ taylor swift

out of love ⋆ alessia cara

raindrops (an angel cried) ⋆ ariana grande

about you ⋆ fletcher

arms of a stranger ⋆ niall horan

under / over ⋆ gracie abrams

because i had you ⋆ shawn mendes

***

it’s late, but shawn’s not home. he’s been out all day at the studio; he’s been spending more time out writing and recording, so it’s not an unfamiliar situation. it’s empty, too; the air, your heart. you sit at the piano, the view of the toronto skyline almost invisible in your attempt to fill the growing void with song.

three chords, that’s all you’re playing. but you find a small comfort in the melody. it’s simple, unbothered by the tears welling in your eyes. it rings out in the room, like the buzz of the metal had as you dropped the promise ring into the dish that sat on shawn’s nightstand, just an hour earlier.

the door closes, keys jingle, footsteps sound throughout the condo. your fingers dance across the keys one more time, one last time. you’re soft, gentle, with your movements. three chords, two broken hearts, one more moment before it all breaks forever.

you turn around to look at him, hoping the darkness will conceal your glossy eyes. “hi,” you breathe out, pressure rising in your chest as you look over his shadowed face. those warm brown eyes, the scar on his cheek, the soft blush caused by the cool night air. he’s glowing, he always is, but his light is dimming. it hurts.

“it’s late, y/n. you didn’t have to wait for me,” he says, removing his jacket and hanging it up.

“i know, i wasn’t waiting. i mean, i was, but not for you,” you reply in a quiet voice, standing up from your seat at the piano. 

“what were you waiting for?”

you ignore his question. “dinner’s on the counter for you to heat up. i would’ve put it in the fridge when i made it but i wasn’t sure when you’d get home.”

“i’m sorry i’m so late, baby. i just got caught up at the studio, and we were writing and lost track of time-” he rambles, explaining his absence.

“it’s okay shawn, really. go eat. i’ll be awake if you need anything,” you urge, a sad smile painted across your face. he walks to the kitchen as you head toward your bedroom. you grab your last-minute items, your purse, passport. most of your belongings are already in the car - you’re not surprised if shawn’s noticed that the condo’s just a bit more empty - but you can’t be bothered if he has.

you walk into the kitchen, bag in hand. he sits at the table, playing with his food as he fiddles with his phone. you study him for a moment, for the last time. “i, uh, i should go,” you stutter out from your place in the doorway.

he looks up with wide eyes. “where?”

“away.” you close your eyes, a tear slipping out. you feel like your world is crashing down around you, leaving you alone and exhausted.

“y/n,” he stands up, approaching you slowly. you feel like glass, even though he isn’t touching you. fragile, but sharp in the softest way only heartbreak can cause.

“you were right. the other day, on the phone with connor. you’re better off without me. i’m sorry for holding you back.” you brush your fingers across his cheeks. holding him gently, you press a kiss to his lips.

you rest your forehead against him, eyes closed, breathing synced. you step back towards the front door. “i love you,” you say, looking him dead in the eye. he’s still, silent, the situation only settling in once it’s too late. the door opens and closes, you’re gone.

“i love you, too.”

the walk to the underground parking area seems to last forever as you try not to let the tears spill from your eyes. as soon as you sit down in your car, though, a sob cuts through the cool night air.

you cover your face with your hands, salty tears rushing down your cheek and into your shaking palms. you hide away in that position, not sure from whom - maybe yourself, for a few minutes, before sitting up to lean your head back against the seat.

“maybe he’ll finally be happy,” you whisper into the darkness.

he only wishes you were right.

***

that was five months ago, and shawn’s reality is just settling in. sure, you’ve rushed to move on, forget him, but you look happy. you are happy, and you’re sure shawn is too. it’s what he wanted, after all, how could he not be?

he’s not sure how he isn’t, either. but every time he hears your name, or sees your face on a mutual friend’s social media, it gets a little harder. those five months ago, that phone call with connor, the consequences, everything’s still so clear in his mind. it burns more than his tongue when he sips his coffee too soon or touches the flame as he lights candles around the condo. it burns more than anything, and as more time passes, he just wishes he had you to soothe the pain.

his album just came out, and while you haven’t listened to it, your friends have. you don’t mind the sound of his voice, or his name. you try not to dwell on him too much, and that’s easier said than done, but you broke up for him. so, you’re trying to move on for yourself. not to mention the fact that your boyfriend would riot if you even mentioned your ex’s name, and you’re not ready to fight with him, too.

macy’s playlist is on shuffle as the two of you drive through the southern ontario countryside. it’s a calm, safe space, hardly a care in the world as you laugh at your best friend from the passenger seat. that is, until a certain voice sounds from the speakers, his voice.

“what song is this?” you ask, the first few lyrics swirling in your brain.

“because i had you, it’s one of shawn’s new songs so if you want to skip it you can.” macy smiles apologetically, not wanting to upset you.

“no, no it’s okay.”

you just listen. to the lyrics, to the melody, there's something so familiar about it. the song, it’s so obvious, is about you, about that night five months ago. the time it’s taken for you to let go, to finally find a bit of peace.

it’s all fine, maybe you felt yourself tear up just a bit, until you hear those three chords. the three chords that had echoed in the void of your heart for weeks after you left. you weren’t upset with him for using the melody, it was so simple, he probably didn’t even remember it was yours. but the song, the story, your story, you just can’t help but wonder.

***

he remembers. he remembers all of it. the shakiness of your breath before you left, the melody you were playing to make it all go away. shawn knows he should’ve asked you if he could use it in his song, but he couldn’t face you. as much as he craves you, he just has to let go.

he hopes you don’t listen to the album, that you won’t notice that almost every song he’s written since that night and years before has been about you. that when you walked out that door, he’d both gained and lost the most beautiful muse. but if you do listen to it, you’ll know. you’ll know the story, and you’ll know he’s sorry.

you know, and it hurts so much more than you could’ve imagined. in the months since the breakup, his voice had never really bothered you, but when you could tell that you caused the pain he had written about, every single word hit you a little deeper. as soon as you walk into your empty apartment, you drop your bags and collapse on the sofa.

you feel cold, even as you snuggle deeper into the cushions and you feel yourself start to sweat. you swear you can hear someone moving around you, even though your roommate is out on a business trip all week. you’re dizzy, you’re sweating, your head’s pounding. your heart starts to race, your breathing quickens. “i can’t do this right now, i can’t fucking do this,” you choke out.

you rub your hands up and down your arms to ground yourself, shutting your eyes tightly. it’s not stopping you from working up into a panic, and it definitely doesn’t help when his words sound in your head. “you’re okay, baby. i’m here. it’s just me, it’s just shawn,” he’d say to comfort you. it did comfort you, or, it used to, but this time it just sent you farther away from your peace of mind.

“but i’m not okay, and you’re not here. it’s just me.”

***

you lie in bed awake, every little sound amplified in the darkness: the buzz from the air conditioning, the flapping of your curtains, the roar of the cars from the downtown street below. it’s like the sudden return of heartbreak broke the numbness you’ve been living in, bringing you back to the harsh reality of what you used to have.

you sit up in bed, then reach over drowsily to grab your phone. the screen lights up with a picture of you and some friends at the top of the empire state building a few years ago, you had been visiting shawn on tour and met up with them while you were there. you squint slightly as your eyes adjust to the sudden brightness, 2:39 am reads the clock when you can see properly. you open your phone to the home screen before selecting the spotify app. you sigh, then type in his name. “this is probably a really bad idea.”

shawn mendes it reads, the cover of his self-titled album shining brightly into your bedroom. his face split into three, flowers growing in the empty spaces. it’s much prettier than his other two album covers, much more artistic. he’d never really had an eye for design, so you can’t imagine it had been his idea.

you press play, the first track starting to sound out loud before you pause it to grab your earbuds. once you’re settled, you start the song again, and start to hurt, again.

every song, you can tell when it was written. in my blood, you’ve heard that one before. shawn said it was one of the most vulnerable pieces he’s ever written.

nervous, it’s what he used to be like around you told through a story; not quite the same, but it’s yours. it’s the adrenaline of a young relationship, the excitement of someone new.

lost in japan, he’d written just for fun - you remember him coming home from the studio so tired but so excited, it was a new sound, and it was the start of a new era.

where were you in the morning?, it’s a situation you’re sure he’s encountered numerous times since the end of your relationship. you hadn’t heard even a bit of it before.

like to be you, it’s the exact dynamic you two always had when you were in a fight; it’s perfect. “julia michaels!” he had said that evening when he walked in the door. “i can’t wait for you to hear this song, honey.” if only you had known.

fallin’ all in you, has you in tears almost immediately: the first verse encompasses what you had, the second verse what could’ve been. you had plans, the two of you, to have a few kids, grow old together. “trapped up on a tightrope, now we’re here,” shawn sings.

“where did we get lost?” you think as the song finishes. you used to be so sure that you’d last, and he was too. you wish you knew when he fell out of love, when that promise of forever became empty.

particular taste, it’s new; you hadn’t heard it until now. the girl, whoever she is, you just wish that you could be her, even for only a moment. to have him completely mesmerized, to be that kid in love.

why, you’re not sure why it hurts you the way it does - it doesn’t even line up with your relationship, but the feeling it awakens is all too familiar. it’s like your heart had heard it in another world, waiting for the day it would run through your mind like it had your blood. the feeling confuses you, but as the song comes to a close, you close your eyes to cry a bit, too.

because i had you, there it is, that song. it’s so stupid how it breaks your heart - you thought you had gotten it all for yourself, now. yet, the song rips it to shreds, tearing away at the memories you’ve tried so desperately to let go of. he did this to himself, you think, but you wonder if you hadn’t gone, maybe neither of you would be so broken.

queen, it’s new, too. with every song you haven’t heard before, jealousy burns a little hotter. you’re glad this “queen” isn’t you, but you wish that the songs that were about you weren’t so sad.

youth, it’s cute. a nice refresher from the love songs, but nothing worth dwelling on. the message is powerful, but you’re too distracted by the love songs and heartbreak anthems to pay much attention.

mutual, you remember hearing it before. it was always fun for shawn to play with fiction, test his storytelling abilities, so when this song came around, he was more than excited to put it out. it’s a bit more basic lyrically, but the melodies and aesthetic appeal to your tired ears.

perfectly wrong, it seems innocent at first, but as the song goes on, the lyrics start to set in. it’s the story of what you and shawn were before you left - he’d probably written it around the time of the breakup. you just wish he had said it to your face.

when you’re ready, it’s probably the most sickeningly cute song you’ve ever heard. of course, it’s familiar, you’d heard him playing the melody, or something similar, just a couple of years ago. it’s clear that he’d written it early in your relationship or been inspired by that time, and it’s adorable, but it pains you to hear how hopeful you both were. you genuinely thought you would last, get married, grow old together, and it seems that shawn did, too.

you know your boyfriend won’t like that you’re listening to shawn’s music, he hates shawn more than you ever could. you can’t even say you hate him, after all, he’s the one who fell out of love. you hate that you had to leave, you hate that you’ll never look at a piano the same way again, you hate that you’ve become the muse of his heartbreak songs; but you could never hate shawn, not when you still love him more than anything.

you think maybe you’ll never get over him, they say you’ll always remember your first love. but for now you just hope that you’ll be okay, you’ll be okay like you thought he would be. it’s too late to go back for him, run back into the apartment and beg to fix your relationship. he was supposed to be your forever, but you know that dream’s long gone, you woke up to hellish flames and the screaming chaos of your mind and reality. shawn’s too far gone, and you need to stop reaching.

you’re happy with your current relationship, aesthetically, anyway. he’s there for you, and he’s supportive, and he’s lovely. his job is secure, you know that you can call and know that “soon” means a few hours, not weeks. it’s a storybook romance, he’s perfect for you, and you’re perfect for him. it should be working, and it might be if your heart wasn’t so broken, but you still feel the butterflies start to fade, and the sparks starting to cool down.

part of you, somewhere deep down, knows that you and shawn could’ve figured something out, that you should’ve; but he didn’t fight for you when you left, and you didn’t speak up when you had the chance. you were only 16 when you fell in love, just high school lovers who thought you could be more. you were young, and reckless, and hopeful. everyone warned you that it wouldn’t last, but you wouldn’t listen.

you would lie under the stars, shawn would tell you that you were meant to be forever, that those very stars had aligned perfectly for you to meet. one of those nights, you were 18, you sat in the back of his jeep. “hey babe?” shawn said, looking over at you fondly.

“what’s up?”

“i think we have one of the greatest loves of all time, truly. like nobody’s perfect, but we’re perfect for each other, y’know?”

“yeah, yeah i do know, and i agree.” you smiled, then kissed him softly. in the back of his jeep, under the stars, pretending like you’d go down in history. and for that moment in time, you thought that maybe you would. 

***

your sister still asks if shawn will come back, she’s only a kid, she wouldn’t know better. but you know that he won’t, he can’t. he can write songs that’ll never see the light of day and text messages he’ll never send, but he can’t come back to you.

he can’t come back to your family, to those nights spent all together, teaching him how to make your favourite foods, dancing in the kitchen to songs he’d never heard. he can’t come back to sitting at the large, round table to eat the meal that he could never get quite right, but always tasted perfect because he had put so much love and care into trying.

you want to forget so desperately, you can’t take seeing his honey eyes staring back at you when you’re trying to fall asleep, the ache you feel when you sit down at a piano. he haunts you, living in the depths of your mind and the sharpness of your breath. you want to tell him to go away, leave you in peace. but he lingers, as does his power over you.

shawn’s trying to move on, too. but in the eyes of every one-night stand, every failed date, you’re right there. you’re not his, and he knows it all too well. he has to let go, he has to, but he doesn’t. he knows he broke your relationship, that he was just upset and confused and it ruined his life. he wants to text you, at least tell you he’s sorry.

but right now he’s staring up at the ceiling of his apartment, another woman beside him, curled up in his sheets. she’s beautiful, dark eyes to match the warm brown of her skin. she glows in the morning sunlight, long eyelashes fluttering slightly with every slow breath.

she’s kind, and warm, and loving. she’s supportive when shawn needs her, and she can take care of herself without his constant attention. from afar, she’s everything shawn needs and has ever needed, but to shawn, she’ll never be just right for him, because she’s not you.

he looks down at his shirtless chest, gently pulling the covers off his side of the bed. he pulls on his boxers, a pair of basketball shorts next. he looks back at her, watching as she opens her eyes slightly, a small yawn leaving her plump lips. 

she reaches over to the other side of the bed, but when she feels the empty space, she fully opens her eyes. shawn’s standing in the doorway of the bedroom, now fully-clothed, but exhausted.

“you good?” she asks, bringing the sheets up with her to cover her bare chest as she sits up against the headboard.

“i’m so sorry,” shawn chokes out. “i just can’t love you the way you want me to. i want to but i can’t-“ he shuts his eyes tightly, “-i can’t.”

“it’s her, isn’t it?”

“yeah, yeah it is.”

[purge-that-urge-rhackathon]

Acceptance

This was a commission for some sweet sweet mpreg omega!jack and Rhys’ own personal interest in how much he loves Jack regardless of how he looks or how his body has changed ♡ ♡ ♡ Jack can’t resist his leggy stringbean alpha no matter how he tries (●♡∀♡)

Also on my ao3 here. My masterlist archive of bullshit i write can be found linked at the top of the blog or here.

--

“And just where. Are. The targets?!” Jack growled into his echo device, pausing with screwdriver in hand at the shock baton he had laid out in bits and pieces on his desk. His attention was divided between the delicate machinery and the call. Jack’s brow twitched as he set the screwdriver down, a snarl starting to lift his lip.

Rhys grinned as he watched the omega CEO’s demeanor shift as the older man’s attention was now completely focused on the voice of the head science officer reporting in from down on Pandora. Any second now, Jack was going to threaten to come down there himself, and Rhys waited for it with interest, grinning to himself in picturing the gravid omega CEO waddling down there with fury in his eyes and a gun in his hand. It shouldn’t be such an attractive idea, but Rhys loved it.

He liked watching Jack work, and just because they were mated and bonded now didn’t mean his hero-worship was any less diminished. The fact that the older man was pleasantly plump with the stringbean alpha’s pup was hardly a deterrent for his rage at the incompetence on the other end of the call, and the younger man knew the job would either get done correctly, or Jack would take matters into his own hands. And with the way the older man’s moods swung with whatever influx of hormones from the day, it would be a very messy affair indeed.

Rhys supposed that that should concern him-- that his violent mate wouldn’t let a little thing like pregnancy stop him from potentially strangling someone- but Jack was overprotective of his own belly more than even Rhys was, and the lithe alpha was only turned on by the omega CEO’s threats as Jack’s voice lost its patience.

“No, I don’t give a crap about the planet’s stupid ecosystem-- Do you have any idea what those genetically-enhanced skags cost?!”

Jack put the screwdriver down, took off the glasses he’d been wearing for the work he’d been doing, and leaned back in his big yellow chair to twirl the lenses by the temple tips a moment. He then abandoned them to the desk to rest his hand on his belly, petting it absentmindedly while he calmly spoke violence into the comm. No doubt soothing their pup that tended to be more active with Jack’s violent moods.

Rhys bit his lip from where he’d been observing Jack from the office couch, a desire rising in him to place his own hands on the omega CEO’s belly, feel their pup energized by Jack’s own mood; to scent his angry mate to calm him from what would soon be a personalized murder if things down on Pandora went any worse; to drag his nose up the older man’s throat to indulge in his altered scent: pregnant angry-omega. It was the best.

Rhys only felt a little bad to be so aroused over how dangerous his mate still was, Jack acting like nothing about him had changed, gun strapped to his thigh even if his gait was now more or less a waddle that Rhys loved but knew better than mentioning. Jack was… sensitive to the way his body was changing, and though Rhys was absolutely in love with the older man and all the ways he grew with their pup, he could feel how wound up Jack was.

Rhys swore the older man was going to give him whiplash with how fast his moods changed-- even before they had a pup on the way- and now the feelings from the omega CEO were only amplified. It was a balancing act Rhys was used to: enjoying the way the older man’s anatomy changed without specifically mentioning Jack’s endotype.

The younger man considered himself pretty observant of when Jack might be in a mood, but maybe he just picked up on it more as some sort of alpha-instinct to better serve his pregnant mate. He didn’t know for certain, and he supposed it didn’t matter in the end. Jack was… a lot more demonstrative in what he was feeling lately, anyways, bond or no bond. And the threat the older man growled into the comm was motivation enough for Rhys to go to the older man, imagining Jack would welcome his hands on him as much as Rhys was itching to touch his mate; maybe get him off to take the edge off.

Rhys stood from the couch, a grin he couldn’t entirely suppress as his movement momentarily caught Jack’s eye, but the omega CEO turned right back to business at hand, purposely ignoring him. “You’ve got loaders to deal with the acid, numb nuts. ...Just who is paying who here? ...Yeah look, that was funny, but--”

Jack looked up as Rhys was approaching his desk, the gorgeous young alpha spouting a smirk that Jack knew all too well. Instead of grinning though, the omega CEO frowned, but he didn’t deter Rhys as he gently touched Jack’s shoulder before drawing fingertips down the older man’s arm in what was a clear attempt at seduction. When Rhys got to his knees next to Jack’s chair, flesh hand on his thigh, the older man’s brows furrowed even if he’d gotten his attention. “I’m working, baby.”

“I know.” Rhys could hear the confusion of the voice on the comm as Jack returned his attention there, jealously pouting as Jack’s gaze on him was removed to yell at the idiot on the call again. Rhys insinuated himself between Jack’s legs, moving his big yellow chair just slightly back while Jack watched him but didn’t stop him. Rhys moved flesh and cybernetic hands both over his mate’s belly as he sat before him on his knees, something inside of him thrilling and spiking with an emotion he knew all too well as he pet over where their pup grew.

Rhys turned his gaze back up to Jack, noticing he’d gotten the older man’s attention once more, and smirked before nuzzling his belly and drawing his hands over his sides, down to his hips, and attempted to maneuver between the gravid omega’s form and his chair to squeeze his ass.

Jack raised a brow and smirked before speaking into the comm with a snarl, something about the idiot on the other end needing to do his job or he’d regret it, and then he ended the call before tossing the device back on his desk.

The grin on Rhys’ face was completely unrepentant as he’d succeeded in getting the omega CEO’s undivided attention, and Jack gave him a look like he wasn’t entirely interested, but appreciated the thought and the touches to his belly all the same.

“Really, Rhysie? I’m seven months in with your leggy-ass pup and at work makin’ dough for this family, and you wanna bang?”

The grin on Rhys’ face was something he would never apologize for, rubbing his face into Jack’s belly with pleasure for the words, half-groaning, half-murmuring a thick affirmative. He liked it when Jack talked like this; liked when he acknowledged he was carrying Rhys’ pup. Their family. Was it weird for it to be a turn-on? Rhys wasn’t sure, and he also didn’t care. Any alpha would be damn lucky to be in his place and he knew it. “Yes. Hell yes, Jack. I love watching you work.” He looked up at the older man then, mouth and nose pressed snug into the softness of the material stretched over their offspring as he kind of hugged and groped the omega CEO. Jack looked and smelled wonderful with their kid on him, as vicious as any Stalker with its brood, and it turned Rhys on like crazy. “What do you say to a blowjob, handsome?”

“Rhysie, what part about being bigger than Elpis didn’t you understand? I’m huge and busy.”

Rhys could hear the things Jack was saying beneath it all: he didn’t like the changes to his body, a constant reminder of his endotype. He felt unattractive-- him, Handsome Jack- successfully running an empire and growing a pup and not understanding just how attractive that really was to the alpha between his legs. His tone was testy, and Rhys could feel a sudden dip in Jack’s mood where there’d been the thrum of bloodlust bordering on arousal before. He might’ve been interested, but self-image was a hell of a thing. Jack’s large palm pat at his belly pointedly, as if the matter was closed.

Jack liked the idea of children, and he also liked the way Rhys would kiss over his belly in the privacy of their bedroom. But Rhys had noticed the way Jack’s admiring-looks at his own posters had taken on a scornful edge; how he made excuses not to see Tim when the double came for his post-mission reports; how his self-aggrandizing speeches tended to feel a bit forced lately, his hand resting absentmindedly on his swollen belly as if his thoughts were elsewhere during meetings.

Jack liked the idea of creating life as much as he did snuffing it out, but the hit his self-image took when he caught sight of himself in the mirror warred with the idea he’d cultivated through a heavy mix of self-denial and propaganda; Handsome Jack might be an omega, but he had more heart, spirit, and balls than any alpha out there, and he’d proven himself day-in and day-out that his endotype didn’t define him. He conducted himself the same way as any self-important alpha might, and it was easy to forget he wasn’t one when he was already Hyperion’s own king, stalking the halls with the self-appointed authority of a god. His ego knew no match.

But there was no denying his endotype even to his subconscious as he grew larger. And while the CEO already loved the pup they were both eager to meet, he hated the way his body reflected his nature, and sometimes that resulted in pushing the younger man away.

Like he was attempting to do right now.

Rhys raised his head a bit so his chin rested on the omega CEO’s belly, his own expression tempered into something softer as he looked up at the older man with endless affection. “You know I love you like this, right, Jack? Handsome and dangerous and smelling like us.”

Jack snorted but reached a large hand down to cup Rhys’ cheek affectionately, stroking down his jaw with his thumb. “You’re real cute pumpkin, but the king has a kingdom to run. Scoot.”

Rhys pouted at the clear brush-off, especially when Jack toed him out of the way to move closer to his desk. He could scent the interest on the older man-- Jack’s sexual appetite was ravenous and he wasn’t fooling anyone acting otherwise- but the omega CEO stubbornly set back to working on the machinery before him, glasses and screwdriver ready as he ignored his lanky mate.

Rhys stood up, but didn’t go anywhere, stubborn himself as he bent to touch his forehead just above Jack’s ear. “Jack… C’mon… You’ve been working hard all afternoon...” he purred into his ear as the older man resolutely ignored him, cocking his head the other way so Rhys lost contact. It was a dirty tactic the lithe alpha took advantage of, and Rhys stuck his face into the omega CEO’s neck, scenting him and drawing his nose along the skin there before pressing a licking kiss to Jack’s pulse that the older man hummed over. “An orgasm a day keeps the doctor away. Jack.”

Jack snorted and turned away from the wires to look at the younger man. Rhys grinned and quickly stole a kiss, his lips landing less than perfectly on the older man’s own, but it got a smirk out of the CEO anyways. “Persistent, huh?”

“When it comes to you? Yes,” Rhys practically purred, crowding his space properly as Jack brought an arm around the younger man with a sort of comfort Rhys thrilled to. Jack might not be able to pull him into his lap properly anymore, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t hold the younger man close. Rhys had a palm on Jack’s belly, the other at the back of the older man’s neck where Rhys’ teeth had left a mark that bonded them as mates. His touch there got a self-satisfied smirk from Jack. No matter how much he railed against his own nature, Jack loved it when Rhys touched him there. Right now was no different.

Rhys gently touched their foreheads together, properly this time so he could also touch Jack’s nose with his own. He gave the older man a smile. “You know I’m obsessed with you, right? You could never not be perfect.”

“Hell yeah I am, you creepy little fanboy.” The admonishment was said with warmth and love Rhys could feel through the bond, and Jack kissed him with renewed interest at the younger man’s offer. He hummed at the light moan Rhys gave as he slipped him a teasing amount of tongue, and grinned at the look of clear-arousal on the lithe alpha’s face. “I know that mouth of yours was made for suckin’ dick, buttercup, but I have a meeting in like, ten minutes.”

It might’ve been meant as a half-hearted deterrent, but Rhys was anything but. His hands were touching Jack everywhere he could get away with, taking advantage of the fact that he knew very-well how turned on the older man was, and that a meeting would have zero effect on that. Hell, it might amp things up, even, going by the scent of the omega CEO’s arousal. “Well it’s not like they’re gonna come around to this side of your desk, right Jack?”

Jack’s brows raised, inwardly pleased his pretty mate had a sexual appetite to match his own, and further pleased that he couldn’t be put-off no matter how Jack kept rebuffing him. It suddenly mattered very little how very large Jack was with their pup; Rhys wanted him for him, willing to get on his knees in more than one way for the older man, and it wasn’t like he could easily reach his own dick to do this anyway. That was probably Jack’s least favorite part of this whole omega-pregnancy. “Fuck, okay, under the desk, sugar. Better make it worth it,” he teased, already sporting the beginnings of a half-chub beneath the expanse of his middle.

Rhys scrambled with way less dignity than he cared, ignoring Jack’s amused chuckles as the lanky alpha urged him to stand up so Rhys could get his pants off. The younger man rubbed his face against his mate’s belly and curled his hands around the back of Jack’s thighs, words spilling from his lips about how good Jack smelled and how he was terrifying sometimes and how it all turned Rhys on, and the omega CEO ran his hand through Rhys’ hair a few times before telling him to get to work.

Rhys fondled the older man while pressing kisses to his belly while Jack would allow him to expose that part of himself in the office where there were no mirrors. He loved Jack like this: waiting to be serviced by his mate; praising the younger man’s mouth and entwining their fingers together on his thigh; the crass, pleased words that followed words of love as Jack praised Rhys’ skills, the lanky alpha having no trouble despite all Jack’s complaints about being larger than Helios itself.

The words might’ve stopped when the scientists he was expecting for the problem down on Pandora showed up, but the feelings through their bond kept pouring on through as loud and bold as ever as Rhys teased and pleased him.

Jack didn’t bother telling him the meeting was for a whole hour, and that Rhys would be stuck under there even after Jack finished; his own fault for pursuing the issue so hard. Rhys didn’t even act like he noticed, of course, using the hour to keep his mate satisfied in-between lavishing attention on the older man’s belly.

The warmth through their bond told him plenty about how that made Jack feel.

All of the scientists survived the meeting with Jack, and the shit-eating grin Rhys gave him once they were gone only disappeared from his face when Jack dragged him up for a leisurely kiss he heartily returned.

–

kofi | ao3

[flora-jimin]

𝑪𝒐𝒏𝒏𝒆𝒄𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒔

Pairing: Ot7 (Jimin Centric)

Genre: Angst, Smut, PWP

Word Count: 6.7k

Rating: 18+

Summary:  Jimin starts to feel a little out of place and left out in their relationship.The boys make sure he knows he's just as important to them as they are to him.

Tags: Still Standing Verse, Sense8 Au, Jimin-centric, Poly Relationship, Self Loathing, Hurt/Comfort, Humiliation Kink, Makeup Sex, Overstimulation, Aftercare, Superpowers, Oral, Threesomse, Frotting, Voyeurism, Overstimulation, Crying During Sex, Superpowers During Sex

A/n: This oneshot was written months ago for a fic called Still Standing that I’ve been writing for over a year. It is a sense8 au where all the boys also have superpowers. If you’d like to read that, the link is in my bio on my blog, as it’s not a net approved fic, but for clarity’s sake, the superpower being used during sex is Yoongi’s umbrakinesis, or shadow manipulation.

AO3 Link

He’d be lying if he said he hadn’t been feeling left out lately.

Like today, with Jungkook and Taehyung going to the movies without him. Both of them eagerly holding hands and laughing as they were off to see a movie he had told them all months ago he was eager to see, it hurt.

“Oh, hyung, we figured you’d be at work during that time!”

It felt like a stab to the chest, but he only smiled and told them it was okay. He’d see it with Ji-Woo or he’d see it when the DVD came out.

When Hoseok and Yoongi paired up and disappeared into Yoongi’s studio to make music, he didn’t bother asking to join. Those two were often off in their own world when Yoongi let Hoseok into Genius Lab. It was a rule amongst their cluster not to go into Genius Lab unless Yoongi invited you in. The second oldest sensate took his personal space very seriously. So, Jimin only smiled and told them he hoped they came up with something good when he saw Yoongi take Hoseok’s hand and disappear behind the door.

Besides, he couldn’t rap like they did. He’d probably just be in the way.

When Jin was making lunch for Namjoon and talking about how the two were going to head out to Han River for a date, Jimin only bit back a smile and handed Jin the condiments and utensils the oldest had asked him for as he helped out.

He helped make the lunch, why wasn’t he invited too? Why couldn’t he go to Han River and be with them, too?

Jimin clenched his fists as he sat at the dinner table. Everyone was out. He was alone.

Again.

His head whirred as he felt all six men, all of them having the time of their lives. He felt them, didn’t they feel him? Did they care? Jimin felt a creeping sense of dread start to eat at him. Maybe they all didn’t need him anymore.

He put his head down, tears stinging his eyes as that inner voice got louder, belittling him and dragging him further into the pit of self loathing he’d found himself in.

“What do you even do? What do you have to bring to the table?” It sneered at him and Jimin squeezed his eyes shut tighter.

“You’re just some barista with a mediocre grip on your powers, you’re the weakest link out of all of the cluster and you know it. You’re a joke, Park Jimin, everyone’s laughing.”

He clutched his head, his chest heaving as he tried to ignore that voice. It was his own inner thoughts betraying him, and this wasn’t the first time he’d heard it insult him.

It never hurt this bad, though.

“-im? Chim? Fuck! Hyung, he’s crying!”

Jimin only barely registered Hoseok’s voice in his ears. He curled up tighter, biting his lip. The Busan boy didn’t want to bother anyone. They were having so much fun without him anyway and-

Yoongi’s face came into his view as those big hands picked his head up from the cocoon he’d made with his arms. He could barely see the second oldest, but he felt a strong pulse of concern through their link and he couldn’t help himself from breaking down and sobbing in his hands.

Hoseok startled from behind him and Yoongi’s lips pursed as he pulled him into his arms, letting the smallest man cry against his neck. He looked to Hoseok and nodded towards the bedroom.

“Pick him up. We should get him somewhere more comfortable.” He instructed as Jimin sobbed louder. Hoseok nodded, one arm sliding under the barista’s legs before he nudged Jimin’s head with his lips.

“C’mon baby boy, arms around my neck. We’re gonna take care of you.” He cooed, nearly missing a step when Jimin clung suddenly to his neck. He could feel the tears rolling down his neck as he walked him to the other room, biting his lip in worry.

Yoongi followed right behind him, lips a thin line as he felt Jimin’s flared up emotions vibrating through the link from all the boys. It overrode everyone else’s emotions and Yoongi could feel the worry and confusion coming from the four missing boys at the sudden fever pitch of negative emotions.

Hoseok sat down with Jimin in his lap, rocking him slightly to calm him, even a fraction. Yoongi crawled onto the bed right after him, gently prying Jimin’s hands away from Hoseok’s neck and moving his face so he looked him in the eyes. Jimin’s lip wobbled, his eyes bloodshot as snot rolled down his nose.

“You poor thing...what happened? Why are you crying?” Hoseok inquired, reaching into the bedside table to fish out a box of tissues. He gently wiped Jimin’s cheeks before pressing the tissues to his nose. Jimin held his wrist and blew weakly, feeling a slight relief from the congestion of his nose as Yoongi’s cat-like eyes watched his every move, concern shining in his face.

He looked away from Yoongi, guilt pulsing through their link.

He’d made them stop their fun to humor his little breakdown. He really was the worst.

Yoongi and Hoseok felt the second pulse of guilt get overridden with the feeling of self loathing, and without sharing a word, both men sandwiched Jimin in between them from a group hug.

The smallest man tensed, tears springing up in his eyes again. He wanted more attention from them, yes, but the doubt of his own self worth kept him from enjoying the sensation. He hated this feeling.

“Talk to us, baby. What happened?” Hoseok tried again and Jimin clenched his fists before burying his face in Yoongi’s shoulder.

“Do...do you all still love me? Am I in the way?” He inquired softly. Both men tensed and the other four stood around him, eyes wide.

“Jimin-”

“No one wants to spend time with me anymore. The movies, the music, the dates...why is everyone avoiding me?” Jimin’s voice quivered as he spoke and he did his best to formulate actual sentences.

“I...I feel like a third wheel to this relationship. Is everyone ignoring my emotions? I know you can feel them and-”

“No, no baby it’s not like that.” Namjoon was at his side in a moment, kissing his cheeks as he cupped his cheeks. Jimin looked up at him and Namjoon felt his heart break.

God, they fucked up.

“I’m not going to make any excuses for any of us. We should have noticed. You’re not a third wheel, baby. We love you.” Their leader continued with his soothing tone. Jimin lowered his eyes to Yoongi’s shoulder, unable to meet any of their gazes.

The other men all exchanged looks, but none of them said a word until the fatigue of the day caused Jimin to pass out slowly.

Once they all felt he was completely asleep, all eyes turned to their leader as they all visited from their respective locations.

Namjoon was driving back to their shared home, jaw set while Jungkook leaned up from the back seat.

“What are we going to do? We really messed up bad.” He voiced what they were all thinking and they shared a collective harsh sigh.

“We have to make it up to him. It was our own negligence that lead to this. Apologize properly when he’s awake and make sure he feels loved. Jimin is an important part of our cluster and our lives and I don’t want him-or any of you-to ever feel like this. We’re gonna let him rest and start tomorrow.” He told them, the determination to fix this problem shining in his eyes. Jungkook relaxed back into the seat and nodded with the rest of them.

-The Next Morning-

When Jimin woke up, the first thing he noticed was his inability to move. He was wedged between Namjoon and Taehyung and when he lifted his head to locate the other men, he saw he was the one who had taken the middle spot, with the other five (Jin seemed to be missing from the pile) men keeping him warm. He blushed and wiggled, trying to free himself from the pile.

It was a difficult task, but eventually he managed to do so, shuffling carefully out of the center so he wouldn’t step on any of his slumbering boyfriends. He looked back at them, a bittersweet smile on his face when he saw them all.

They all looked so perfect, even without him there.

He felt a twinge of that self loathing come back, so he ducked his head and left the room, not noticing Namjoon peeking at him through one of his cracked open eyes.

Jimin made his way to the kitchen, seeing Jin had started cooking breakfast. He placed a hand against the doorway, knocking gently to get his attention. Jin smiled at him and he responded with a soft smile of his own.

“‘Mornin, hyung.” he greeted.

“Good morning, Chim. I’ll be making your favorite pancakes, too. Have a seat, alright?” Jin instructed, turning back to the stove. Jimin hesitated before he moved to sit, playing with his fingers as he waited.

He stared at Jin’s back as he cooked, watching the oldest glide around the kitchen, plucking seasonings and foods from cabinets, the fridge, and the freezer effortlessly as he made their large breakfast.

“Hyung, do you need any help?” Jimin inquired after five minutes had gone by. Jin slid the breakfast sausages into the oven and nodded.

“If you could, could you come over here and mix the batter for the pancakes? We’ll need a lot.” Jin told him, offering him a large mixing bowl. Jimin smiled, grateful Jin was giving him the opportunity to help. He was hoping they wouldn’t be mad at him after his outburst yesterday.

He chewed on his lip as Jin began washing out some fruits in the sink.

“Hyung...about last night...can we forget it? Can we pretend I didn’t say those things? I didn’t mean to accuse you all of not loving me and ignoring me…”He trailed off. The kitchen fell into a silence as Jin kept his eyes on the strawberries in his palm. The oldest sighed and tapped the back of the faucet to shut the water off. He picked up the strainer the fruit was in, letting the water drain out of it before he moved to Jimin’s side, slicing some of the red berries.

“You shouldn’t apologize for telling us how you feel. If we made you feel like this, you should say it. That way we can make sure we don’t ever let it get this bad again. You’re important to us.” Jin hummed, taking the cut berries in his hands and walking behind Jimin, who had slowed his stirring as he thoughtfully looked into the white mix.

Jin dropped the berries into the bowl, pressing Jimin against the counter as he wrapped his arms around his back. The smaller man nearly dropped the bowl, had Jin not have closed his larger hands over Jimin’s.

“We’re sorry. The only ones who should be apologizing is us.” Jin spoke directly into his ear and Jimin felt his knees buckle slightly. He had a weak spot for being pinned down, but now wasn’t the time for him to be getting excited over nothing.

“But I-”

“Shh. We have to make breakfast.” Jin teased, placing his hand over Jimin’s as they stirred the batter. The younger man nodded and complied, trying not to think about how close Jin was to him.

Or how many times the members of the cluster had fooled around in the kitchen.

Jin noticed the pulse of embarrassment and arousal radiating off of the smaller man and he grinned, setting the bowl down and placing his palms down on the counter by either side of Jimin’s hips.

He peppered Jimin’s neck in kisses, smiling when the smaller man tried to suppress his giggles. Jimin blushed to the tips of his ears, breath hitching up when he felt Jin palming the front of his quickly tenting boxers.

“H-hyung, the breakfast…”Jimin protested, though he pressed closer to Jin’s hand. The older man smiled against the pale skin of his neck.

“The oven is on low. I can be quick, just keep stirring.” Jin gave his ass a slap and sunk to his knees and Jimin gasped when he felt the cool air of the kitchen hit his ass as Jin tugged his boxers down as he went.

“Turn around for me, Chim.” Jin purred and Jimin obeyed, flustered. His hands shook as he held onto the mixing bowl, his cock twitching as Jin teasingly blew along the length. He took Jimin’s cock in his hand and ran his tongue up the underside from base to tip, reveling in the full-body shiver that went through the younger sensate.

Jin made a point to watch every expression on Jimin’s face as he bobbed his head, taking a bit more each time. Jimin’s grip on the spoon and bowl tightened as he let out a shaky breath, resisting the urge to roll his hips up into the warm sensation of Jin’s mouth. The oldest used one of his hands to stroke whatever wasn’t in his mouth, pulling Jimin closer with his other hand.

“H-Hyung! Please…” Jimin whined, biting his lip when Jin rolled his tongue over his sensitive head. He made a point to sound as sloppy as he could, enjoying the way Jimin’s resolve broke. He set the bowl aside without another moment’s hesitation, one hand shakily on the back of Jin’s head.

Jin could tell he was holding back, probably afraid he would choke the older man if he thrusted up. In response, he removed his own hand from Jimin’s dick, eyes sliding closed as he took the entirety of Jimin’s cock in his mouth.

The smaller man was far from the biggest or thickest out of the seven men, but Jin still enjoyed giving him blowjobs as much as he did the others.

Mostly because Jimin was the most responsive one.

“H-Hyung, more. Oh my god…” Jimin tilted his head back, giving Jin an experimental few thrusts to make sure he didn’t catch him off-guard. Jin took it in stride, placing a hand on his thigh. They often used signals during sex to make sure they were all on the same page in case it wasn’t clear through their connection.

Jimin could feel that Jin was relaxed and eager, and the light tap on his thigh was a sign from the oldest to do what he wanted.

Fingers shaking, Jimin ran his fingers into Jin’s hair, gripping firmly as he thrusted forward, shaky mewls leaving his lips as he fucked his hyung’s mouth. Jin was painfully hard himself from the treatment and teasing as he shifted on his knees, dipping his hand into his own pajama pants to stroke his aching cock.

“W-We’re gonna wake the others if you stay so loud, Jiminie~” Jin teased as he popped his mouth off for a moment, knowing full well the other men wouldn’t be able to ignore the dual sense of arousal rolling off the two men in waves. Jin pulled his sleep pants down more so he could stroke himself more freely while Jimin blushed, his bottom lip plumper than usual from him biting it to keep his moans down.

It was a fruitless effort since they were all connected, but that made it all that much cuter, in Jin’s opinion.

“Fuuck fuck fuck I’m close. Hyung!” Jimin’s hips began to stutter, so Jin pressed hum flush against the counter, taking over by bobbing his head quicker than he was before. Jimin’s grip in his hair tightened to the point that it was borderline painful, but Jin wasn’t at all opposed to the jolt that came from the action. He stroked himself at the same pace as his head movements, his thumb smearing precum over his head as he watched Jimin unravel before him.

“G-Gonna cum gonna cum, please please please-” Jimin pulled harder, this time trying to yank Jin off before he came in his mouth, but the oldest wouldn’t budge, swallowing around Jimin’s twitching cock.

All it took was a few more bobs before Jimin came with a cry, rope after rope of cum filling Jin’s mouth. He swallowed most of it, pulling off of Jimin’s cock as he continued stroking himself, feeling his own release quickly approaching.

He glanced up, seeing Jimin stare down at him with lust-blown eyes, cheeks red and sweat rolling down his temple as he held his gaze. The older Sensate’s eyes moved to his lips as Jimin weakly called to him.

“H-Hyung…”

Jin came nearly on the spot, the milky drops landing on the dark tile of the kitchen between his knees.

They all had a soft spot for Jimin’s lips. Honestly, who wouldn’t?

Jimin blushed and moved to get paper towels as Jin tucked himself back into his pants. The older man took them as soon as he returned, refusing to let Jimin clean up the mess. Jimin pouted at him as he watched the older man clean. Jin ignored him and stood to dispose of the soiled tissues, moving to go to the sink to wash his hands.

“You came a lot. Have you been pent up, baby?” Jin teased after a moment of silence, hands soapy. Jimin blushed hard and went to swat at him when he noticed Jin still had a bit of his cum at the corner of his lips.

Blushing, he leaned up to lick it off, shying when Jin sent him a coy look.

Later, when the rest of the boys filed into the kitchen one by one, Yoongi took note of the difference in the piles of pancakes between the boys.

“Didn’t you want more food, Jin? You barely have any on your plate.” He mused.

Jin only smiled as he drank his coffee.

“I had some breakfast earlier, actually.” He chirped, and Jimin choked from across the table.

-2 Days Later, Cafe Thief’s Heart-

Jimin sighed as he brewed the next batch of coffee. There was a customer outside that had been giving him trouble for a while now, but he did his best not to let it get to him. Ji-Woo would no doubt cause a scene and both Taehyung and Jungkook were usually busy helping out somewhere else in the cafe to come to his aid.

He shook his head, slapping his cheeks. He had to focus.

There’s no way he should need the younger men to run to his aid, anyway.

He exhaled and brought the ice coffee to the man with a slice of cake, shuddering at the way the middle-aged man eyed him when he set the food down. He stood and politely bowed and went to leave when the man leaned up and sent him a flirtatious smile.

“Y’know, I think you’re pretty cute, Jimin. Maybe we could get this to go, hm?” He winked and Jimin felt physically ill. Despite that, he sent him his best customer service smile and shook his head.

“No thank you, sir. If you’d like, I could put your things in to-go containers.” He offered. The man’s face turned and he rolled his eyes.

“Think you’re too good to go out with me? Pathetic. It would be your honor to date someone with as much wealth as I have.” He grunted, clearly annoyed he had been rejected. Jimin’s brow twitched in annoyance. Though he didn’t have the most highest of paying jobs working for Ji-Woo’s cafe, but he enjoyed working with his best friend more than anything.

Plus, several of his partners had more than enough wealth that even if that was the defining factor in whether he went out with someone (it wasn’t. How shallow is that?), they had that more than covered.

“That’s too bad you feel like that. Enjoy your order, sir.” Jimin muttered through gritted teeth as he spun on his heel. He had gotten around four steps away before he heard the sound of glass breaking.

Closing his eyes and collecting himself, he turned, rage bubbling up when he saw the cake slice on the floor and the man faking a shocked expression.

“Oh no, my cake fell! Could you clean this up, Jimin? Someone could fall on this.” He informed him, taking a sip of his iced coffee. Jimin gritted his teeth and went to grab a small bag they kept in their aprons, kneeling down to pick up the large glass pieces first. The man swirled the iced coffee for a moment before he popped the cap off, looking into the cup.

“I think you should check this out too, Jim-Jim. It doesn’t taste right. You agree, right?” The man sneered, pouring the iced coffee on Jimin’s head. The small man leapt up, a startled gasp leaving his lips as the cold drink rolled down the back of his neck and down his shirt. He shook, tears sprouting up in the corners of his eyes as the other customers turned their attention to the scene.

“I told you I wanted a double shot of vanilla syrup in it. Couldn’t get that right either?” The man chuckled. Jimin clenched his fists, body shaking as he felt the fresh embarrassment roll over him.

Before anyone could see him cry, a towel fell over his head and he was pulled against a warm body. Blinking, he looked up to see Taehyung standing protectively over him while Jungkook yanked the man up by his shirt. The youngest man sent him a dangerous smile, ignoring all the complaining about harassment from the man as he began dragging him outside.

“You all see this! This is assault and harassment! I’ll ruin you!” He barked,

Ji-Woo stood at the counter, arms crossed.

“Get this trash out of my shop. I absolutely don’t condone customers treating my employees and friends like shit.”

“Don’t worry, dude. You’re free to try that slick shit with me.” Jungkook threatened as he pulled him outside. The other customers began chattering, but not a single one looked like they would call the police on them, so Jimin was relieved. Tae frowned and looked down at him.

“Hyung...you’re shaking. C’mon, lets get you out of that. Woo-Ya, Kook and I are gonna take him home when he gets changed. Is that okay?” He inquired. Ji-Woo smiled and nodded.

“It’s fine. Minjun and I can hold down the fort. It’s almost closing time anyway.” She waved them off and Tae bowed in gratitude, pulling Jimin into the back room.

“Are you alright?” He asked as he pulled the uniform shirt off. Jimin nodded, coffee still dripping from his hair. His shirt was no doubt ruined, but he couldn’t help the warm feeling of relief that filled him. He felt more appreciated each day and although he would much rather do without the altercation moments ago, he still felt his heart swell two sizes from Tae and Jungkook coming to his aid.

“Hyung, you’re spacing out.” Tae teased. Jimin blushed and both of them startled when Jungkook slammed the door to the room, storming in as he marched up to the shorter Busan native. He took Jimin’s face in his hands, checking for injuries before he made eye contact.

“I beat his ass.”

“I know. Thank you, Kook.” He cooed, pressing his cold hands on top of Jungkook’s. The maknae sent him a smile and gave him his jacket. Jimin noticed Taehyung and Jungkook kept him firmly wedged between them as they walked home.

He blushed and smiled, inhaling Jungkook’s scent.

-30 Minutes Later-

Y’know, he didn’t mean this when he said they had him wedged between them, but he wouldn’t complain.

Currently, Jimin was straddling Taehyung’s waist, both of their cocks slick with cum as they rutted against one another while Jungkook had a near bruising grip on the older man’s waist, hips slapping against Jimin’s plump ass as he rocked into him.

Shortly after he took a shower (with both of them insisting they join), the three youngest sensates stumbled into the bedroom, soaked bodies falling to the sheets. It was a flurry of hands groping at whatever they could (“We’ve got to make sure to warm you up real good, hyung”) and lips on skin (“You still taste like coffee, Jiminie. Delicious.”)

Taehyung had fucked him first, kissing the back of his neck while Jungkook stroked both his and Jimin’s cocks in unison, groaning against his lips as they kissed. He’d barely had a chance to rest before the two switched positions, with Jungkook fucking him much faster than Tae did, leaving Jimin a babbling mess as each thrust sent his cock sliding against Taehyung’s.

He leaned down to kiss him sloppily, the desperate growls leaving Jungkook’s lips behind him telling them both that he was close. The youngest leaned down, effectively sandwiching Jimin between them both.

“So pretty, hyung. You gonna cum? You wanna show Tae Tae that beautiful face when you do?” He teased, pulling Jimin’s hair so he arched up. Taehyung looked up, groaning when he saw how far gone Jimin was.

He lifted his own hips, thrusting against Jimin’s cock faster while Jungkook fucked him hard. It wasn’t much longer until all three of them came, sweat and cum running down their bodies as they collapsed on top of one another.

“Aigoo, you’re both heavy! Get off!” Tae complained half heartedly. Jungkook sent him a crooked smile and Jimin kissed his nose to appease him. They all broke out into comfortable laughter and laid together until they had enough energy to drag themselves out of bed and take another shower, making sure to change the sheets before any of their hyungs got home.

The other four came home to them cuddling in a pile together.

-3 Days Later, Genius Lab-

“Nnng….”

“Ah, you wanted to make music, Jimine. The recording won’t pick it up if you hold back.”

“T-This isn’t what I-ohh fuck yes yes-this isn’t what I meant!”

“If audio doesn’t work, we could always shoot a ‘music video’.”

Jimin was about to come up with a retort, but Hoseok picked up his pace, rolling his hips expertly as he rocked into the smaller man. Yoongi had been calmly teasing him the whole time, lazily stroking his dick from across the room as he watched the two fuck like rabbits on the couch he had in his studio.

Hmph. Voyeur.

“Hobi fuck! Right there right there yes!” He gasped, nails running down Hoseok’s back as the pyromancer hit him just right. Hoseok licked his lips and sat up, hooking his hands under the back of Jimin’s knees, holding them apart as he rocked into him.

“O-Ohh fuck fuck fuck!” Jimin threw his head back, cock leaking against his abs as his balls drew up, feeling another orgasm creeping closer.

“He’s gonna cum again, Yoongs. Look at him.” Hoseok purred affectionately, thumbs rubbing the back of Jimin’s thighs. Jimin trembled, looking over at Yoongi and whining pathetically.

“I-I want to make you feel good too, hyung. Ahh, fuck!” Jimin closed his eyes, moments away from his orgasm when it suddenly…..stopped.

He gasped in surprise, eyes flying open as Hoseok spilled inside of him again, but his own orgasm was prevented by the shadow wrapped around his cock, effectively preventing him from cumming. He panted, looking over at Yoongi as the oldest man in the room sent him a coy smile.

“H-Hyung-”

“You said you wanted to make me feel good. I would never deny my baby boy that. What kind of mean hyung do you think I am?” The DJ cooed, sending him a sly smile. Hoseok laughed tiredly, gently sliding out of Jimin. He could tell Yoongi was about to take over and he didn’t want to miss a moment.

They all loved when he got like this.

“C’mon then, Jimin. Come make me feel better, then.” Yoongi beckoned him over in a tone that told Jimin there was something more to it. He would be lying if he said he wasn’t excited. He slid off the couch, still feeling weak from the several times he and Hoseok had fucked previously. He panted, blushing as he felt mentioned man’s cum start to leak down his thighs.

Yoongi noticed and smirked, raising his hand.

A shadow shaped like a hand scooped up some of the cum, lifting it to Jimin’s lips. The barista didn’t hesitate, flicking his tongue to lick it off immediately. Yoongi’s chest rumbled in satisfaction and he propped his head up on his chin, lips quirking as he saw Jimin’s knees buckle again as he tried to continue walking.

“Maybe you should crawl. Wouldn’t want you to fall, baby.” Yoongi offered, still stroking his cock with his free hand. Jimin nodded and got on his hands and knees, biting his lip as he felt his still-restricted cock bob from the motion.

“Oh, hyung you're a real sadist.” Hoseok chuckled, eyes trained on Jimin’s ass as he made his way to Yoongi slowly. The DJ didn’t respond verbally, but the look of satisfaction on his face told them both all that they needed to know.

He really did love using his powers during sex.

Jimin was around a foot or two away from the chair Yoongi was sitting in when the older man decided he hadn’t teased him enough. He sat up, flicking the hand that wasn’t on his cock. In moments, Jimin’s knees almost failed him as he felt something slide into his slick hole.

His cheeks went red as he watched Yoongi’s hand move, the shadow fucking him hard. He groaned, forehead dropping to the floor as he let himself be taken.

“What’s wrong, Jimin? If you wanted to please me, you should be able to crawl over here still, yes? Or does it feel too good?” He taunted, spreading his fingers apart.

Jimin’s eyes nearly rolled back as he felt it expand, growing thicker than it was before. Each thrust was a deliberate, hard jab that always got so close to his spot but never went deep enough to satisfy him. The ring around his cock was a reminder that he wouldn’t be feeling any release until Yoongi was satisfied, either.

“C’mon baby. Don’t you want your Hyung’s cock?” Yoongi teased, licking his own precum off of his fingers. Jimin nodded, slowly resuming his crawling. His mewls and moans filled the soundproofed room as he god closer and closer, body shuddering as he felt oh so close to orgasm.

It took two and a half minutes before Jimin reached Yoongi, panting as he rested his head on Yoongi’s leg, rocking his ass back against the shadow still fucking him. The man had came dry at least once and Yoongi smiled down at him, petting his head.

“Good boy, Jimin. You got enough energy to ride my cock?”

“Mmmnm.”

“Words, baby.”

“Y-Yes, Yoongi.”

Satisfied, Yoongi dispelled the shadow, chuckling when he heard Jimin whine in disapproval. He kissed his cheek and picked him up, seating Jimin in his lap as he held his cock up for him.

“C’mon baby. Show me how much you want this dick.” He ordered, slapping his ass. Jimin gasped and nodded, sinking down on Yoongi’s thick dick. His eyes nearly rolled back in pleasure as he felt himself being filled again. He leaned closer to Yoongi, pressing loving kisses to his face as he let his hips rise and fall.

Yoongi kissed and bit at his neck, hands on his hips as he growled sweet nothings into his ear, the wet sound of their fucking turning Hoseok on. He noticed the irony in the situation, with him and Yoongi switching places as he now watched the older man fuck their boyfriend.

Jimin was already sensitive from several other rounds, so Yoongi didn’t tease him for too long. He could feel the man already start to float away from the sheer amount of pleasure he’d gotten that night.

Pale arms wrapped around Jimin’s body and Yoongi took over, rocking hard and fast into him as the shadow around Jimin’s cock released. The older man kept him grounded as Jimin cried out, cumming hard against Yoongi’s stomach, nearly passing out from the stimulation. Yoongi kept him tight against his chest, cumming himself once he felt Jimin’s slick walls clench around him. The strong pulse of ecstasy from Jimin pushed Hoseok into another orgasm and all of them took a minute or two to collect themselves.

Yoongi could feel Jimin crying in his arms, still not quite down from the high of sex. He cooed gently, kissing him as he picked him up. Hoseok smiled tiredly and followed him, all three of them washing off by taking a bath.

Jimin was sat between Yoongi’s legs, sleepily nuzzling his chest as Hoseok sat behind him, washing his hair. Both men kissed him periodically, telling him how much of a good job he did and he was out like a light before he even knew it.

Hoseok and Yoongi exchanged a fond smile before they carried Jimin to bed.

-3 Nights Later-

Jimin squirmed as Namjoon’s hands ran over his back. The older man had offered to give the younger man a massage, and Jimin couldn’t turn down an opportunity to spend time with him.

Plus, if this was anything like the others, he knew where this was going.

“The others really did a number on you, hm? You’ve got hickies and bruises.” Namjoon hummed, looking at the bruises over Jimin’s hips and the slight discoloration of his ass from spanking. He’d noticed the circles littering Jimin’s neck and chest when he massaged his front.

None of them would admit it, but they all had little competitions to leave as many hickies as they could and with how adamant they all were to make sure Jimin never felt excluded again, he had a few more love bites than usual.

“It wasn’t anything I didn’t like. I really appreciate everyone.” Jimin muttered, groaning in relief when Namjoon started to work a particularly tense knot out of his lower back. He hummed in delight.

“I’m glad. We really are sorry we made you feel like that. I’ve been paying extra careful attention to the links, too. I want to make sure it doesn’t happen again.” Namjoon told him, hands moving down to squeeze and knead at his ass.

Jimin blushed and bit his lip.

“I-I appreciate it.” He murmured, twitching when Namjoon pressed a kiss to his spine.

“I didn’t offer to give you a massage with the intent to fuck you, but feel free to tell me if that’s what you want.” He teased, fingers running closer to Jimin’s crack. He spread them for a moment before moving further down.

Jimin sighed shakily, feeling Namjoon’s breath on the back of his thighs. He felt bold today, so he lifted his ass, shaking slightly.

“Are you gonna deliver if it is what I want?” He inquired. Namjoon flashed him a dimpled smirk before he continued massaging the back of his thighs.

“You know I will. Just say so.”

“I want it.”

Immediately, those hands were off of his thighs and back on his ass, long fingers sliding between his cheeks to tease his asshole, chuckling when Jimin took it upon himself to spread his cheek apart, fully exposing his eager hole to the other man.

“We’ve really made you shameless, huh?” Namjoon chuckled, sliding two of his fingers into him. Jimin sighed and pressed his cheek to the pillow.

“Y-You can say that.” He murmured, his cock stirring to life as Namjoon pumped his fingers in and out, slowly scissoring them apart. Jimin didn’t need much prep since he had been so active recently, but Namjoon prefered to slowly pick his boyfriends apart before he fucked them. It was something that drove the more impatient ones mad, but they never complained seriously about his methods.

He pulled his fingers free when Jimin began rocking back, replacing them with his tongue, flicking deviously at his rim before he slid it right inside. Jimin’s fists tightened in the sheets as Namjoon’s tongue worked in and out of him. The ex-nurse raked his fingers down Jimin’s thighs lightly, humming when he felt the goosebumps rise up on his skin immediately afterwards.

Jimin’s small mewls turned into pants as minutes went by and Namjoon didn’t let up until Jimin was practically begging him to do more.

He gave his ass a playful slap as he sat up, tapping Jimin’s leg to get his attention as he unbuckled his pants.

“Turn around, baby. I want to watch your face.” He told him and Jimin blushed, hesitantly rolling onto his back. Namjoon looked down at him, his big hand wrapping around Jimin’s cock, giving him a few strokes as he lined his head up to his ass with his free hand.

“You ready?”

“Yes, Joon.” Jimin nodded, love and adoration shining in his eyes. Namjoon leaned down to kiss him, distracting him from the momentary discomfort from the initial penetration. Jimin gasped against his lips and Namjoon slid his tongue into his mouth, kissing him deeper.

Jimin realized Namjoon was letting him set the pace of the kiss as he slowly rocked into him and he teasingly nibbled his bottom lip, wrapping his arms around the older man’s neck. Namjoon chuckled arily and responded with a deep thrust before returning to his sensual pace.

When he broke the kiss, Jimin was panting. Namjoon kissed at his throat, and he waited for the familiar sting of a bite or nibble, but was instead met with more kisses as Namjoon made his way down until he flicked his tongue over one of his nipples. Jimin shuddered and Namjoon chuckled against the hardened bud, rolling the other one between his fingers as he relished every small gasp and moan that tumbled out of the smaller man.

“J-Joonie...Ahh please faster.”

Ah, there was the begging.

Namjoon would normally tease him for much longer, but instead, he pushed both of Jimin’s hands above his head, pinning them there as he increased his pace dramatically. The barista cried out in delight, arching his back as Namjoon fucked him. There were lips against his face, his cheeks, and even his chest and Jimin could feel he wouldn’t last as long as usual if this kept up this way.

“Look at you, baby, You’re so handsome when you fall apart for me. Look at me,” Namjoon nudged him, rolling his hips so the tip of his cock brushed against Jimin’s sweet spot with each thrust. Moaning louder and struggling to focus, Jimin looked up, finding Namjoon staring lovingly at him. The others were around him on the bed and in his lust-hazed mind, he couldn’t tell if they were actually there or visiting him through their connection.

“We love you baby. Don’t forget that.”

It didn’t matter which one said it. It could’ve been one of them, or all of them, but Jimin just closed his eyes. His voice cracked as he cried out, cumming with Namjoon. He felt the aftershocks of sex and trembled, pressing close to Namjoon when the larger man hugged him.

He rocked Jimin, kissing his head as he reached into their bedside table. They always kept tissues and wipes there for obvious reasons. Jimin shivered when Namjoon wiped the cum off his stomach and the cum from between his legs, smiling tiredly at their leader after he tossed it in the bedside trash can.

Namjoon pulled him in close, tucking Jimin’s head under his chin. Jimin happily hugged him back, the sound of Namjoon’s heartbeat being comforting. Namjoon rubbed soothing circles against his back, kissing the top of his head as he started to drift off.

“I love you guys.” Jimin murmured sleepily, eyes heavy. Namjoon chuckle and closed his eyes.

“And we love you, Jimin.” Namjoon responded, and the strong pulse of love and contentedness was something they all felt through their connections.

[i-have-moved-already]

I enjoyed reading your Hisana headcanons! You seem like a new blog, so welcome to Tumblr and I look forward to reading more from you! Now onto the ask; May I request Aizen Sousuke headcanons? I saw that you write yandere imagines, so I'm interested in seeing what you'll write for him. Have fun and I'll see you on my feed

Thank you so much! I'm honestly so happy you enjoyed the Hisana head cannons! ٩(●ᴗ●)۶ and thank you for the welcome! Also, I somehow just saw the ask today, so hopefully, It turned out well enough for you! it was so much fun to write this and I hope it turned out well enough if not just tell me ^^

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⦁    Your meeting had only been by chance; you were simply a young student in his calligraphy class and nothing special to him at all

⦁    although he quickly had begun to take notice of how hard you worked; both for your regular classes and in his as well, always silent focused on your work. 

⦁    not only where you- in his eyes- mature enough to take the art of calligraphy seriously, you were also patient with others, someone sat in your designated seat? calmly brushing it off as you'd just find another. someone sitting next to you needed help with their busted pen? usually, you'd offer a spare. 

⦁    it was almost sickening how sweet, and kind you were to others, but It was also an easy sign to manipulate you. 

you'd most likely be the type that received a love letter once in a blue moon; it was nothing major to you at all however, you'd begun to receive a few that seemed different placed right where you sat in class, your name is written in a deep red ink; that stood agents pristine white paper, the faintest smell of a gentle and soothing cologne that eased itself into your nostrils. Paired with words so sweetly; written with such precision that they spoke to your heart; telling you how your focus made the writer admire you; giving you gentle praises, addressed to Name-Kōhai

⦁    of course- what had started as acquiring a simple pawn would backfire in one of the most horrendous ways for him. From that point on he'd made sure to keep a special eye on you, taking special care to keep up the letters he'd write to you. making sure to string you along, easing you into a role he had planned especially for you.

⦁    Slowly he fell in love with you; his pawn, his meer tool. someone he had lent a gracious hand and took you into the fifth division. Making sure to prop you up to be his most efficient 3rd seat- Trusting you. You above others. shouldn’t you feel grateful?

⦁    The more attached he feels towards you; the less freedom you'll have. of course, it’ll move at a painfully slow pace, not once will you- or anyone else suspect a thing. You'll be trapped with your captain for a long time.- if you ever escape him that is

⦁    On the surface, he'll be kind; polite, mild-mannered. but once the two of you alone a switch will flip, he'll act quite cold to you; feeling insulted at how you looked at others, even only a polite nod maybe ‘insulting’ to him- on a good day He'd merely scold you in privet, cupping the side of your face ever so gently " Please, never do that again."  and you wouldn't right? Over time he'd instill a fierce loyalty into you. the perfect lover; partner; and subordinate all in one. Truly you were a work of art. if you don’t learn however He’ll become increasingly less pleasant with you. holding your hand in public ever so tightly. making sure to not leave any marks, he’ll keep you on a painfully tight leash, making sure you learn to behave.

⦁  He'll never allow you to realize how bad of a situation you're in, to you he's such a kind and gentle soul, sure he may be a little possessive, but that's only because he loves you! no matter how bad it gets he'll always allow you to see things through a sweet rose-colored perspective.

⦁ all in all, he's possessive and controlling, having a deep need to keep you locked away safely- it doesn't matter how strong you are, you'll always be beneath him in terms of strength and intelligence, and you ever try and better your-self he'll find a way to ease you up and forget about it all.

⦁    " name-Kōhai, why don't you take a break?" stopping you from training alone, or even with others; he'll find you working late into the night practicing on your sword technics; the determination was written all over your face, and in turn, you'll find him wearing a relaxed style of kimono; with a jacket placed over his shoulders; softly calling you to stop for the night. Enjoying your company as he calmly watched you doze off into a deep sleep.