#and no need to thank me Anon >:)

[wispscribbles]

I love your ghost design. I wanna squeeze him :⁠^⁠)

If no hug then why hug-shaped???

[uhohdad]

Okay so I'm a complete SUCKER for sub!könig but we know he's a big brash military man capable of great violence but also. I wanna tear him down and build him back up. Brattame him. Gotta let steam off somehow right?

Could you do something with femdom!reader who gets könig as a client wanting to let some steam off from work and give up control for a moment and just fucking. edging and overstimming the fuck out of him. him crying from pain and pleasure. he realizes he likes being degraded... oh geez is it hot in here or-

(18+) Sub!König x FemDom!Reader

König’s leg is bouncing furiously, his knuckles white as he digs his fingernails into the arms of your lounge chair. Maybe this is one of those things that’s better in theory than it is in reality. The thought seemed… enticing, but sitting here, now, waiting for his dominatrix, his stomach is turning and his mouth is dry. He can’t help but feel embarrassed, stupid even, for being desperate enough to come here.

He’s just about to bail when he hears the commanding click of heels across tile.

König’s heart pounds in his chest, breaths thick and weighted as he struggles to work air into his lungs. He has to pinch his eyes shut, shoulders tensed in a brace as you enter.

The click of your heels still, and a few tense moments pass before König hesitantly opens his eyes, his lips pulled back in unease.

At the sight of you, standing in the doorway with your arms crossed under your chest, he chokes, his breaths ceasing.

He’s not sure where to look as you study him from top to bottom with strict eyes. Just sitting before you is putting a shake in his fingers.

You give a hum at whatever conclusion you’ve drawn in your head, and König opens his mouth to say something, anything, but nothing comes out of his stuttering lips.

Your heels click over to him, each slow, agonizing step making his heart pump a little faster.

The room is unbearably silent once you’ve settled between his legs, staring down at him in his seat. He feels like he’s in trouble, like he’s sitting in the principal’s office about to get his scolding. He can’t even look at you, fixated on his lap and fidgeting with his fingers.

You hum, your voice low and as smooth as honey, each word spoken slowly.

“Such a big, strong man like you. I’m sure there’s a lot of pressure that comes along with that. Is that right?”

König swallows, his eyes darting around. He still can’t look at you. He tries to work up the courage to respond, but can’t find the ability to speak, so he just nods, gnawing on his lower lip.

“I’m sure there are lots of people who depend on you. Is it a heavy weight you carry on those strong shoulders?”

König’s gaze moves to the floor, and he gives a sheepish nod. His cheeks are flushed a glowing pink, an arm slung across his chest and rubbing out his opposing bicep.

A curled finger gently presses under his chin, guiding his head up. Those pretty blue eyes meet yours, wide and nervous. Your voice is strict, but gentle, that of a teacher’s when she corrects a child’s wrongdoing.

“When I ask you a question, you say - ‘Yes, Miss,’ or ‘No, Miss.’ Do you understand?”

He swallows again, his irises flicking back and forth as his gaze switches between your eyes. He nods quickly, his eyes closing as he tries to get his thoughts straight.

His voice is barely audible, words poured quickly and soaked in embarrassment, cheeks staining a shade deeper.

“Yes, Miss.”

And of course, his cock is straining against the front of his pants, his hands resting in front of himself to try and hide it from you.

“Very good,” You say.

You bend at the core, your hand grabbing the back of his chair, your pretty face inches from him, relishing in how he curls in on in himself, how his shoulders raise, how he can’t make eye contact.

“Being so powerful,” You start, your voice just a sultry whisper, “It’s a lot of responsibility, isn’t it?”

He nods, having to work up the courage to speak again.

“Yes, Miss.”

Your finger finds his jaw, to tilt his head back into position. He obediently meets your eyes.

“You want me to take over that responsibility for a little while?”

König sucks in a sharp breath, his eyes darting around your face. You’re so confident, so forward, domineering and irresistible - König can’t even think straight, his mind blank and jaw slack as he searches for his voice. When he finds it, it’s weak and stitched with a needy groan.

“Yes, Miss.”

You offer a pleased hum, studying him for a moment. You stand tall before you gracefully climb on top of him, kneeling with your legs cushioned on either side on his thighs. Slowly, you lean in, listening to the sound of his heavy breaths as he shivers beneath you. His stubble pokes and scratches your skin when you give him a gentle, lingering kiss on his cheek before pressing your cheek to his. Your voice just a breathy, deep whisper in his ear.

“Have you been a good boy, baby? Or does someone need to be punished?”

Every muscle in his body tenses, and a stuttered choke catches in the back of his throat.

König can’t seem to find his words, short circuiting beneath you as you give another slow kiss on the side of his face.

You give a low hum, lips back in his ear.

“Do you need Miss to decide, baby boy?”

König gives a shaky nod. When you pull away, those pretty blue eyes are staring up at you so innocently, eagerly.

“I asked you a question,” You scold.

König’s eyes widen as he scrambles to appease you.

“Yes, Miss,” He blurts, a frantic nod accompanying.

You give a smug grin and another low hum. Your hands find tense, shaking biceps, palms sliding down the length of his strong arms. A soothing touch, slowing when you get to his wrists.

“You are a good boy, aren’t you?”

König is stunned, locked onto you, and is none the wiser when you slap a pair of heavy duty handcuffs around his wrists.

He sucks in a breath through his teeth, looking down at his restrained hands and giving a tug to the chain connecting each cuff. When he meets your stare again, his pretty blue eyes are wide and pooled with fear.

You give a two-note laugh behind a grin.

“If you want me to take control, I can’t have you able to overpower me, can I?”

He shakes his head slowly.

“No, Miss.”

Before he knows it, König’s on the bed, stripped of his clothes and back flush with the covers, his handcuffs attached to the headboard and ankles secured tightly to the bed. His cock is stiff and swollen, flush against his stomach and leaking precum all over himself. He’s buried his face into the pillows, eyes pinched shut and whines flowing freely as you deny him the orgasm he’s been circling for hours.

“Bitte, Miss, I need it, please, please, I’ve been so good.”

König has entirely unraveled underneath you, what remains of him wrapped around your finger.

You trace a light, leisurely fingertip from the base of his cock to the tip.

“I thought that was for me to decide.”

König lets out a truly pathetic whine, the metal of his cuffs clinking as he pulls on his restraints. When you wrap your hand around the base of his cock, his entire body tenses, a huff escaping him.

You torture him with slow, teasing glides up the shaft of his aching cock, trailing your thumb around the rim of his tip with each pump. Needy whimpers leave König as his hips rut into your touch.

“Please, Please Miss.”

“Please what?”

“Bitte, Miss, Please let me come.”

You give a soft laugh, offering him a bit of relief by speeding up your glides around his cock.

König’s eyes lull before pinching shut, embarrassing, sniveling moans leaving him, his body shaking in response to your touch.

It doesn’t take long for him to reach the edge again, his muscles steadily tensing and his grip on his restraints tightening.

“Bitte, Miss, please.”

He finishes on a whine, tears welling in his eyeline, his breaths sniveled and shaky.

“Mm,” You hum, “I’ll think about it.”

He lets out a sob, closing his eyes tight and sending tears streaming down his temples.

Your hands leave his cock to find his firm chest when you move to straddle him, and König lets out another whine at the absence of your touch. You take his cock again, guiding his tip through your slick arousal, listening to König trip over his own breaths.

“Feel so good, Miss. Please, Miss.”

“That’s a good boy. Tell me how much you need it.”

König whines again, tugging on his restraints as he grinds against you.

“F- Please, Miss, I need it so bad, I need you, I can’t- hn-”

König can hardly think straight, intoxicated off your power and desperate for release.

You line him up with your dripping cunt, and can’t help but lull your head as you stretch around such a thick cock.

König immediately begins to thrust his hips into you, and your hands shoot out to his sides to still him.

“If you move your hips, you’ll have to wait another round,” You warn.

“Please, I’m sorry Miss, I’ll be so good, please.”

“Good boy.”

You sink onto him carefully, swallowing his throbbing cock at a teasingly slow pace.

His moans are strained, muscles tight and trembling as he resists the urge to fuck you with everything he has.

“So tight, Miss, feels so good.”

“Mm,” You hum, a slow pace as you move up and down on his cock, swallowing a little more of him on each descent.

“Please, Miss, please.”

You’ve barely warmed up to him, but he’s already circling his orgasm, overwhelmed by the stimulation of your tight, warm cunt around him and long since aching for finish.

“Please, Miss!” He cries, more tears streaming down his face, his restraints taut with each tug against them.

When your bounces on his cock pick up speed, König’s face pinches, a pathetic moan behind the lip caught between his teeth.

“Come.”

At once, every muscle in his body contracts, eyes rolling, choking on a cry. He convulses underneath you as you work every drop of his pent-up finish from him, entirely succumb to your wet, tight cunt. When his breaths return, they’re heaving and stuttered, his cock pulsing inside you with each beat of his heart.

“Thank your Miss for letting you come.”

“Thank you, Miss, thank you.”

♡ KÖNIG DRABBLE MASTERLIST ♡

[sillygoofyqueer]

Silly fic idea for you:

SVSSS AU where Shen Yuan transmigrates as a half-human half-crow-demon Phantom thief character.

He doesn’t want to steal from Bing-ge, but his System makes him, and naturally Bing-ge ends up obsessed. Bing-ge keeps luring him into traps with shiny things he just can’t help but want!!! Stupid crow impulses. (That he kinda wants to see Binghe again is irrelevant, obviously).

This is SUPER silly. Anon, this is so funny, I feel like I simply have to write this now oh my god. The idea that Bing-ge is confused at first, and he then sees this super handsome half bird-half human-demon thing and is like "man I need to get me more shiny things, I want to keep this fucker". ALSO, (I've heard that) crows are quite intelligent and start leaving presents as a response to getting fed or being given shiny things, so it could also be something where Shen Yuan starts having the urge to give Bing-ge things back after receiving all these shiny things (better if he doesn't recognise most of the traps as traps, mistaking Bing-ge for being a generous demon who doesn't need all of the shiny stuff he takes) and starts giving him shit like rocks and plants and the cool parts of beasts he fights... It also can be silly no matter when in the timeline this happens - it could be during the QJ peak arc where Shen Yuan sneaks around because he wants to see the awesome protagonist up close! The first time he steals something from Bing-ge, it's something super dumb like a particularly shiny rock or a coin that the boy left lying around, and Bing-ge's quickly like "??? The fuck just happened?" so he sets up a trap with the axe he uses for chopping wood (kind of rusty but still useable and particularly shiny). After that, it's chaos of trying to keep Shen Yuan the demon hidden while also stopping him from stealing other shiny things (cultivator's swords and such). Liu Qingge finds Shen Yuan trying to steal one of the swords he was gifted after saving a village and is also like "??? Kill?" It can also be after the Endless Abyss, when Bing-ge is like a demon lord and just has shiny stuff lying around. He throws it out occasionally and one day, while doing this, he notices a certain person swooping in and grabbing one of the shiny things. More antics ensue but I don't want to crash my laptop lmao (Which one would you rather me do, anon? Before the Endless Abyss, or after? Or both??) {part one! Part two, part three, part four, part five, part six, part seven!} [This gorgeous fanart from @slurmdog that's making me go insane here] [More awe inducing fanart from @moonlightobsessions that has made me pass out here]

[lover-of-mine]

2x17 “Careful What You Wish For” -> 7x10 “All Fall Down”

Inspired by Anonymous.

[gatoiberico]

trying out a new brush

[twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat]

AGH FASHION DESIGNER SUGURU AND MODEL SATORU W A NEW INTERN DESIGNER UNDER THEIR WING 😞😞☹️ - 🌺

WAHHHH I LOVE THIS 🥺🥺🥺 the pining and flirting and slowburn of it all… model!satoru and his favorite designer suguru geto, both of them undeniably skilled and born with an eye for fashion….. well-known and adored……..

designer!suguru who gets tasked with showing you the ropes, who’s always so patient and kind despite your inexperience. diligent with his teaching but also so laidback, so easy to talk to… he looks intimidating, but he’s so polite that you can’t help but swoon a little. and he admires your enthusiasm so much…… grows fond of you soooo quickly bc you’re just such a breath of fresh air compared to the divas he’s forced to work with all the time. he thinks you’ve got real potential and he wants to nurture it.

and ofc you end up running into model!satoru eventually…. bc he’s always hanging around suguru whenever he gets the chance. and he’s maybe a little jealous that you’re hogging so much of his personal designer’s attention, but… he also thinks you’re so cute . T_T like a little puppy following suguru around… so excited to be apart of what you’ve dreamed of for so many years……… he looks into your eyes and sees the same sparkle he had before he made it big, and it makes his heart race.

yeah . i’m just thinking abt the peaceful coffee breaks with suguru….. how he’d insist on paying for your drink, ”since he’s your senior” (he wants to be your favorite </3)…… and how he’d just be so protective over his little intern. don’t get me started on the close proximity with satoru when you’re taking his measurements, the glance and smile he sends your way during an impromptu shoot… the way he always calls for you with a sweet coo of ”how’s my favorite intern doing today?”

😔😔😔 yeahhhhhh. they make me feel ill.

[spacebubblehomebase]

I LOVE YOUR AU SO MUCH GIVES ME HAPPY TINGLES AND I'VE BEEN HYPERFIXATING ON IT FOREVEER YOU ARE ONE AMAZING AU WRITER!! (me when author creates another amazing masterpiece) (you)!

THANK YOU! TvT I know I mostly post art, but writing is also one of my passions!!! So it's nice to know you're enjoying the story so far. 🥹🙏 Even though we just got past the introduction stage. But if you already like what we have for now, let me just say none of y'all are READY for when we reach the turning point of my AU! "The Dreamers" is the goal at the moment. That's all I'm gonna say. 😉✨ So as we wait, have this lil' doodle I made up just cause I remembered I can!

Till then! =D

-Bubbly💙

[navree]

Incorrect, the fact that Biden has dropped out and a candidate with history of supporting medicare for all and being more receptive to a ceasefire in the I/P conflict has made me go from "I cannot morally support the Democratic nominee" to "I am voting for the Democratic nominee despite the fact she isn't perfect in every respect." I'm really happy this played out. The Dems for the most part abandoned the old Obama platform and it feels like its possible an actual progressive agenda could come to pass in my lifetime.

Kamala 2024!

If you weren't going to vote Democratic in this election before Biden dropped out you're a dorkass loser who does not care about any of the issues you're yammering about here and also a fundamentally bad person, and I hope you get run over by a bus.

But you got one thing right in all of this gibberish, Kamala 2024.

[magpiedraws]

Wouldn't lizard fashion be something like spikes and scales and a frilled lizard collar?

Like so?

(Bonus art under the cut)

[codacheetah]

Tell me your opinions on the stuff. Any stuff.

Grins. Smiles, even

I'm using you as an excuse to infodump my theory about the Island because I've had no in to do that, and my theory is pure opinion. Anyways:

THE ISLAND IS STUCK IN THE FUCKING FUTURE

(SCARE CHORD)

Hi so you might ask me. What the fuck do you mean by that. Well. Let's start with what we know about the Island, the King, and Wish Craft. (long ass post under cut. sorry)

The Island was redacted from the perception of outside world, via Wish Craft.

Wish Craft has the power to enable Time Craft. We see this primarily through Siffrin's timeloops, but also through the King's powers.

One of the King's powers is to show the saviors a "vision of the future."

...And this same attack is deflected back at the King by Mirabelle in ACT 5, in which the King is able to see the Island before being frozen in time.

...So. The King's "vision of the future." We're never told explicitly what this vision is. All we know is that it's apparently powerful enough to wipe the party in one hit, hearing it from a distance hurts your head, and that whatever Siffrin (and Loop) saw, they don't seem to actually be able to describe it. Even the King himself doesn't know what his vision entails.

We don't know whether the party all sees the same thing when struck by the vision, and Adrienne's answer to the question about it in the Reddit AMA is. vague? It's not a "no," and the specific wording makes me think the answer might be yes. But that's me reading into it.

Now. What do we know about the Island's redaction? The Island was affected by the wish recently, as in "like a decade ago" recently. We know that nobody in Vaugarde or the rest of the world is capable of thinking about the Island, anything closely tied to the Island's culture, or people on the Island for very long. When they do recall these things, they slip right out of reach. Particularly, the consequence for trying to think about the Island (or, more specifically, break the wish that forces the Island out of perception) is significant pain, localized in the head.

And that said pain is enough to become lethal, if pressed hard enough.

From here forward I'm running with the assumption that the King's "vision of the future" is not personalized to any individual, and is unchanging throughout the course of the whole story. Now. Remember the end of ACT 5, where the King gets hit with the deflected "vision of the future", and instead of dying, he recalls the Island and gets frozen in time? Very odd, yeah? Why wouldn't the King just die like everyone else does? He even does take 9999 damage when trying to say its name, like Siffrin does, and like the party does when they're hit by the attack.

Well. We know that he has a "true wish" that the ability to freeze Vaugarde in time grants. I don't think it's at all a stretch to guess that the King's "true wish" is to be able to remember the Island. My personal guess is that the King (and Siffrin) brought this "true wish" into effect via the "SAY ITS NAME" sequence- he even tries three times, a significant number in wishing.

The King (and Siffrin's) wish breaks, because it can't be fulfilled in this moment without breaking the wish to prevent the Island from being thought about. However. Consider the conditions at the end of ACT 5- the King sees the vision of the future reflected back to him, and what he sees is the Island. He remembers the Island, fulfilling his own wish, and is frozen in time. I consider this a compromise between his wish and the one binding the Island- the King gets to remember the Island, but nobody alive is able to think about it, because he's frozen in time; it's like the Universe is correcting itself (I WILL GET BACK TO THIS). The wish of all of Vaugarde to defeat the King is fulfilled, since he is no longer a threat, and Siffrin's wish wraps itself up soon after.

MY POINT BEING. The King's attack is a vision of the future. This "future" is of the Island, in some uncorrupted state. The saviors see it when he attacks them, and he sees it when it is deflected back to him.

The logical next question is "okay, so the Island exists in the future, but how do you know time shenanigans are even related to the Island?"

Recall a very odd series of interactions throughout the game, in which you try to interact with a piece of equipment that you already own.

The game rewinds slightly, before the item disappears, as the Universe corrects itself.

This is awfully similar to two particular events: looping back without seeing the death screen, and talking to the Daydreaming One about her sister. The latter is more interesting to me for the purposes of this theory.

In both instances, something is misaligned within the Universe (an item existing in two places, someone remembering something they're not supposed to) and it is corrected through some sort of rewind. Also compare the dialogue above to when you try to give Mirabelle the Stylish Bow when you already own it.

The world glitches, but Siffrin defuses the situation before the Universe has to intervene. Omitted from the screenshot is the fact that Mirabelle's portraits switch to happy from "catastrophically anxious" with no transition after Siffrin shows her where the bow is. Important to note is that when Mirabelle tries to recall receiving the bow, her head hurts, much like how trying to break the Island wish causes a headache.

The Universe leads you away from perception, and you can only follow.

My theory that I keep circling around is that through Wish Craft, the Island has been displaced temporally. The denizens of the Island, as well as the Island itself, still exist, but they are in the future. The Island is still loaded into the world, like how equipment is before you try to interact with it, and the Island cannot leave this quantum state, because it never actually went anywhere. The magnitude of the redaction event is so severe with the Island, because it is so much larger as an entity than a sword or a bow. There are of course things I don't really have pieced together, like why somebody would wish the Island into the future, how far into the future it is, or why equipment behaves this way. But it's the only Island theory I've seen that I have some level of confidence in, so I might as well lay out my cards for it.

[sorryimananti-romantic]

as a fellow deluyuyu looking out for another deluyuyu.. do NOT look at Yunho's Saitama Day 2 pictures 💀🧎🏻‍♀️🕳 we don't have the hotteok health insurance!!

bro.

YOU'RE TELLING ME WE WITNESSED THE YIPPLE???? HE ACTUALLY BROKE THE WALL DFKJGHJDFHGJKDF

AND HE LOOKED THIS HOT ANYWAY???

I. AM. NOT. OKAY.

[buglaur]

fireworks show 🎆

material preview version is very cute also :)

i struggled with the lighting on this one so badly, but it turned out alright in the end.

i actually started it last year for new years 2023 but never got around to finishing it, hence no progress pictures this time sadly lol. i do have a very low-res, first draft, test gif though

stills 🥳

[ky-landfill]

Just wondering but have you read “the big road home” by crumpetz? I’m rereading it now (and taking extreme levels of emotional damage from doing so) and it seems like something you’d really enjoy

"Tim does excitement a little differently than most people, a little quieter and with less movement, but it’s really obvious once you know him. He’s not saying much or screaming or anything, but Tim looks like a human sunbeam. Like he’s glowing under his skin."

[potato-lord-but-not]

Female characters exist btw

bestie we’ve been THROUGH THIS I’m currently in the malevolent brainrot trenches and there is a total of ONE woman who is alive in that podcast. We’ll circle back to the fandoms that actually have female characters eventually but for now we all suffer

[nedseii]

If you're in the mood to draw another stark x lannister ship. Bran x Myrcella is a cute romeo and juliet type ship. Thanks for all the art you draw.

I guess they're hiding from each other behind their moms idoezhdoe

[sukirichi]

SUKI SUKI? @! ÷ 2? I THINK YOU HAVE CLOSED THE REQS BUT IT OCCURRED TO ME TO ME MAGICALLY HELP. LISTEN !!!! husband bonten but the first time they met with y/n, like THE FIRST INTERACTION OF EVERYONE AND IN WHAT SITUATION DID THEY HAVE AN INSTANT CRUSH TO EACH OTHER AND EVERYTHING THAT CONTAINS?×)÷,×!",!)0273*?× ¡÷ 2 I PRAY YOU TO WRITE IT, IT DOESN'T MATTER IF IT IS IN 10 YEARS 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭 IM CRYINH

BONTEN MEN MEETING THEIR WIVES FOR THE FIRST TIME !! (PART ONE)

☁️ mikey, haitani ran, haitani rindou

☁️ unedited. mild angst on mikey's part. ran is technically not a first meeting, but yeah! suggestive on ran's part. fluff. cursing. mikey is lowkey a stalker. (only putting the three of them first because it was getting too long 😭)

♡ — MIKEY

It’s just another day, another mission. There’s nothing new for Mikey. And even if there was, there’s hardly anything he looks forward to now. Whether it’s a mission accomplished or mission failed, he hardly notices. His executives will take care of it, anyway. So he walks aimlessly in the streets he calls his, unafraid of the night’s darkness and the dangers it might bring – quite frankly, because he is the danger that lurks. What is there to be afraid of when he’s the worst imaginable nightmare around?

So lost in his own thoughts, it takes him a second to register the collision of his body with someone else. “I’m sorry!” a sweet voice cuts through the night air. You sound adorable and apologetic enough Mikey’s eyes light up for just a brief moment. Dark, lifeless eyes come to life as he glances at you – bowing in apology while clutching your satchel to your chest. “I wasn’t looking where I was going and I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to–”

At any other day, Sanzu would’ve handled this for him. At any other day, Mikey would’ve let it slide and moved on because he just doesn’t care. You’re a civilian, anyway, and you knew better. No one bumps into him like this by accident. Curious, he tilts his gaze to you. There’s only one good conclusion of your unabashed expression that of guilt and genuine embarrassment – you must not have any idea who he is and treated him like you would anyone else.

He’s not the fearsome Manjiro Sano to you.

He’s just a stranger you inconvenienced, and for some reason, that soothes him. He’s not a killer in your eyes. He’s not a person who’s continuously done the wrong thing for the past few years. He’s just... him.

“It’s okay,” he replies after a moment, tucking his hands inside the pockets of his hoodie. “It’s late, though. You shouldn’t be out around this time of night. It’s dangerous.”

“Oh, I know,” you scrunch up your nose, “Gangs are running rampant and all. But this is the only time I can take a high-paying shift, and what’s the point of safety if I can’t pay my bills, right?”

He doesn’t know how to answer that. He hasn’t worried about bills in a long time – Kokonoi has that covered. Instead, he nods, finding it hard to look away from you. “Stay safe, then. And if you need help, then...” Then, what? The gangs would help? Bonten would keep you safe? No, that was ridiculous. Bonten was the one thing everyone wanted to be protected from.

It hits him, then, that he is the monster that makes everyone feel unsafe. And for once in his life since he’d established Bonten, Mikey feels sick.

He doesn’t want to be the cause of your worries.

— It doesn’t take much to find out everything about you – where you work, where you live, when your shifts happen, and even silly details like what your favourite flavour or cup ramen is. He tells himself he’s doing this for your safety, and in a way, he is. You weren’t kidding when you said you take graveyard shifts because it pays the best, so upon finding out you come home really late, and go to work just as, Mikey takes it upon himself to watch from afar. Never approaching, never striking a conversation – because he doesn’t know what to say, and how could he explain he knows your routine by now – but always watching. Guarding. Protecting. He must look ominous gazing upon you from buildings afar, but he’s content with it. He thinks he can do this for as long as he likes, simply watching you from afar.

— But then he realizes he wants more.

— And he doesn’t know what ‘more’ means exactly. More time with you? You don’t even know who he is. More conversations? He’d probably stumble over his words, or make the worst jokes. Fuck. He hasn’t joked in a while. Would you even find him funny? He thinks about all day long, all night long, until you’re the only one running into his mind and he’s been so mentally checked out of his own meetings that his executives have – politely – asked him to just take a while for himself.

— So he does, and because he was never good at controlling his urges, he goes to you. He dresses a little nicer than usual; a newly ironed shirt, a good pair of jeans, and even asked Rindou to fix his hair up for him. “Going on a date?” he’d teased, but even Mikey doesn’t know how to answer that. It’s not a date, but he’d be damned if he let another day go by that you didn’t know his name.

— He introduced himself, rather awkwardly, and pretends like he didn’t come to your work on purpose. “I didn’t know you worked here,” he says, and it couldn’t be a bigger lie. But you just smile up at him like you’re happy to see him, like you’ve been hoping to meet again, and for a moment, Mikey lets himself believe that it could be true. Maybe he deserves that smile. Maybe someone actually wants to see him. He lingers on that delusion long enough that he’s matched his routine with yours – walking you back home, letting you talk about how much you hate your boss, and hate your sleazy customers even more. It’s not easy being a waitress, especially when you’re forced to wear tight-fitting clothes with the intention of attracting customers. And it gets to him. The darkness and rage he’s been letting quietly simmer beneath his veins as to not scare you off finally resurfaces.

— He hates it all – hates how you’re in such an unfortunate situation, and there’s only so little he could do. Until he realizes he’s the Manjiro Sano. After sending in Sanzu to deal with your boss, who may or may not have been gently blackmailed into treating you better and giving you higher pay or else, Mikey notices the weight being lifted off your shoulder. You’ve started smiling more and even invite him to your place one time to celebrate your ‘fortunes.’

“Are you sure?” he asks rather warily, “I mean, it’s late at night.”

“Yeah, it’s fine,” you reassure him, and lead him inside your home. He almost feels bad for you for being so unaware. You don’t have the slightest idea you’re bringing a killer in the safety of your home, but he doesn’t get the chance to dwell on it when you turn on the lights. He’s greeted by your homey apartment, a little cluttered, a little messy, and it’s a little small for you that he can’t imagine would be comfortable – but it’s yours, and you’re proud of it. Pulling out a mat, you tell him to make himself at home while you prepare some celebratory snacks. They’re nothing fancy – mostly chips, cheap wine, and a few hardened candies.

It’s probably the worst timing to realize he’s falling in love.

First of all, there’s nothing romantic about watching you lean against the counter, humming to yourself as you pop open the wine. Second of all, you don’t look enticing or seductive. Not in your mismatched pyjamas and even more hilariously mismatched socks. But you are enticing – from the way your throat vibrates at your humming, to your quick, swift movements preparing the snacks. You look so at home, so content, that he can’t help but want that for himself. Want you for himself. He wants you at his place and to decorate it as you wish. He wants you to liven it up and scatter knick-knacks all over his room. He wants your toothbrush next to his in the bathroom. He wants you – wants all of you – from your crumpled shirt, to your aching shoulders after a long day at work, wants to kiss it all better for you.

He wants you.

And when the Bonten Head wants something, he will get it.

— If someone told him that a few years from now that his silly musings at three in the morning would finally come true, he’d have scoffed at them. But this is his reality is now, and how he’ll spend the rest of his life.

You’re standing next to him in his bathroom, brushing your teeth while simultaneously humming to yourself. He’s heard the melody enough to have memorized it. And when he’s having a hard day, he sings it to himself, although it never sounds as good like when you do it. The tune is comforting, a reminder you’re in his life now, that everything’s worked out. You married him, and he couldn’t be a happier man.

“Something wrong, Manjiro?” you ask after rinsing your mouth, turning to him with a hand on your hips. Stern, yet unbelievably gentle. Cupping his cheeks with your hands, he melts. “Tell me. How can I make it better?”

“Nothing’s wrong,” he says, and it’s the truth. The moment is all too perfect. You’re here with him, you’re safe, and you’ve loved him after everything he’s done. “Just wanna hold you.”

You break him to it. Lunging into his arms, you giggle and bury yourself around his neck, knowing full well he’ll catch you. Mikey laughs, too, but it’s quieter, more reserved, the sound nearly muted because your skin is pressing against his so hard that it becomes hard to fathom there was ever a time he felt he wasn’t worth of love. And maybe he still isn’t. He still has Bonten, he still has horrible urges, he still gets the demanding itch to kill and hurt – but you’re there, in his arms, and he feels the darkness slowly simmer into tamed shadows.

♡ — HAITANI RAN

Ran is not subtle with his feelings. He believes in the beauty and art of flirting, of holding one’s gazes for just a second longer than what was considered polite, the fleeting, yet burning touches one could pass off as innocent. He’s had enough experience in his life to have mastered it. He’s handsome, he’s irresistible, and he knows it. Beauty and charm is a weapon he wasn’t ashamed of wielding, especially not around his current flavour of the month – or more like months, now. He’s played this game of tic tac toe with you, this push and pull, for so long that he feels he’ll lose his mind.

Like everyone else in Bonten, he usually gets what he wants. But you’re different. You’re attracted to him – that much he knows – but you’re the one responsible for all of Bonten’s uniform and suits that your attraction borders just on the edge of professionalism. But he knows. Oh, he knows. You aren’t so subtle yourself.

Each time he comes around for a fitting, your lips twitch as if you’re fighting back a smile. He also doesn’t fail to notice how you’re gesturing around to your staff in the shop to give you two ‘privacy.’ Bonten executive or not, Ran isn’t foolish – he knows he’s the only one receiving this special treatment. Knows you don’t touch your other clients like this – with a perfectly manicured nail grazing down his arm, your eyes lidded with lust, your blood-red lips caught between your teeth.

It makes Ran yearn.

He wants those same claws to run down scratches behind his back. He wants to take those lips into his mouth, instead, to have you ruin his suits by staining it with your lipstick on his collar, his neck, his tie, his pants. It’d give him more of a reason to come back, anyway. But you just had to be so professional that he always leaves the shop with his pants feeling tighter than ever, his lungs constricted because it becomes hard to breathe around you, yet feeling so addicted to the high of having you so close, yet so far away.

“You should come back for another fitting,” you call out to him just as he swings the door open. He freezes. He’s always the one scheduling a fitting. Unable to help it, he shuts the door and locks it, smirking to himself when he hears the vague hitching of your breath behind the counter.

“And why is that?”

“Oh, you know,” you manage to tease, but ah. He can see right through you. Even with your nonchalant facade, he can tell he’s getting under your veins with every step he takes to close the distance between you. Damn the counter. Damn any customers who might be waiting outside. For now, there’s only him and you, and he thinks he may damn well truly ruin his pants when you look up at him with eyes blown wide with want. With need.

He wishes you could just let go and give in.

“I, in fact, don’t know. But do care to enlighten me,” leaning down, he rests his arms against the counter, glad to finally be at your eye level. You’re prettier in this angle, which baffles him, because you’re already so pretty enough it hurts. And he can’t help but wonder if you’d look a hundred times better in... different angles. An angle under him, perhaps, where you’re helpless and forced to clutch his biceps while you hold on for dear life. Because Ran guarantees once he gets his hands on you, he’s never letting go.

“I just think,” with narrowed eyes, he feels your heated gaze travel from his face that’s inches away from yours down to his chest, and to the bulge constricted around his pants. You let out a breathy sound at the sight of it, his body responding by growing even harder. “Your pants are too tight for you now. Perhaps we should make you a better one?”

“I have other ways in mind in which we could resolve this problem. Preferably one that doesn’t consist of measuring tapes,” he raises his brow, watches as you slowly unfold and unravel right at his palms. It’s almost satisfying. Almost. He’s wanted you for so long that frustration is more what he feels right now, and impatience. “Although I’m not entirely against using ropes.”

♡ — HAITANI RINDOU

Rindou doesn’t concern himself with civilians. He has better things to do, and after a long day, he’s more than ready to just plop himself into bed and wake up only when the world is ending. Or, he could just let it end, too. He couldn’t care any less. Unfortunately for him, though, the universe has different plans for him that night. He just wanted to get a damned drink, for fuck’s sake, until he hears screaming and the shuffling of feet as soon as he steps out of the convenience store.

“Stop him!” someone squeals, the cry helpless and desperate. From where he stood, wine bottle on one hand, he could see the figure of a man running with what seemed like a bag clutched to his chest. “Someone help, please!”

Rindou sighs. There’s nothing more that he hates more than petty crimes that are more inconveniences than impactful. Before he could register what he’s doing, Rindou’s arm extended out in front of himself, and within the blink of an eye, the thief whizzing past him had been caught by the collar. The thief struggles against his hold, whining and thrashing with curses thrown his way.

“Let me fucking go, you oaf!”

“I don’t think so,” Rindou tips his head to the side just as a figure appeared behind the thief. You stand there, wheezing to catch your breath with your hands on your knees. At the sight of him effortlessly restraining the thief, you break out into a relieved sigh and snatch back your bag, holding it more possessively. And oh, aren’t you just pretty? With your skin layered with a sheen of sweat from all that running, cheeks damp with tears, your frown now replaced with a grateful smile – Rindou feels like you’re the thief. “Whoa. Careful with that smile, sweetheart.”

Your brows furrow, and he nearly groans. It should be a crime for someone to look so adorably confused. “What?”

“Okay, that’s enough, they got their bag back, now let me go!”

Right. He still had a lame excuse of a criminal on his hand. With a roll of his eyes, Rindou throws the man against to the ground until he’s coughing out blood from when he hit the pavement. He hears you gasp, and it makes him wince. He hadn’t meant to be so harsh. You’re probably afraid of him now.

“Run along,” he warns the petty thief, and he didn’t need to be told twice. As soon as the man disappears, Rindou turns to you, a lazy smile making its way into his face. “You know, I usually hate being troubled, but this might be the first time I don’t mind as much.”

Your jaw drops. You look around frantically in your bag for a moment, and just when he thinks you can’t get anymore interesting, you pull out a wad of cash and shove it to him. Rindou cocks a brow. “And what is that for, sweetheart?”

“To-to thank you for saving me! And it’s also an apology because I troubled you...”

Rindou fights the urge to scoff. “I feel like I should be offended,” he says in a sing-song manner, only because you don’t take the teasing well, and the sight of you stumbling over your words is already making his night. He wants to reassure you it’s no trouble at all, that he’ll easily catch all your thieves for you, or that you can steal his heart and never give it back to him. But he doesn’t, because he’s just met you, and maybe, just maybe, he’s curious how this will go.

“Oh, I’m really sorry, I didn’t mean to–”

“Say, if you really want to thank me, why don’t we share this?” he lifts his wine bottle, and you eye it for a moment before nodding eagerly. His heart drops. He lowers the bottle, his voice growing darker – yet make no mistake. Behind his scowl and hardened eyes, his heart is beating a mile a minute, and his skin is burning impossibly hot. “Don’t you think you say yes a little too easily?”

“Uhm, but you saved me. You helped me, and this is how you want to be thanked.”

Rindou thinks his brain might short-circuit. You are definitely trouble.

“I could be more dangerous than him, you know,” he leans toward you menacingly to prove a point, but you don’t cower. Your breath hitches, and you clutch your bag tighter. But you don’t move away, and neither can he. Now that he’s closer, he can smell your strawberry scented perfume and he shuts his eyes, greedily inhaling the scent. Shit. He hasn’t even drunk anything, and he already feels intoxicated. Taking a step back for his own sanity, Rindou levels you a warning glare. “You really should be more careful, sweet. Perhaps it’ll lower the chances of you running into trouble.”

“Oh,” you look dejected, though he could just be imagining it. “Yeah, okay, uh... I’ll be more careful. Thank you again...?”

“Rindou.”

“Rindou,” you repeat, and he realizes his name sounds sweeter when you say. With a scrunch of your nose, you eye the wine in his hands again. “Will I see you again? I really want to thank you for your help.”

With such a sweet offer, how can he resist? He’d be stupid to say no – even if you were trouble, it’s fine. He wasn’t notorious for being a troublemaker for no reason anyway.