#his expression is terribly endearing as well

[tragedy-of-commons]

lay your life down and pretty

various hsr x gn!reader | wc: ~2k

In which you die (or they've already lost you).

tags/warnings: character death (reader), it's implied in dh's part but explicit and semi-graphic in hanya's, descriptions of mara and the insanity that comes with it, hardcore angst, hurt no comfort, there may be Lore Inaccuracies

notes: this was originally supposed to be four parts. i'm sorry it's only two but it's just been uhhh... hope you enjoy & thanks for the incredible support lately <3

Dan Heng makes the best pancakes.

You’ve expressed this undeniable fact to his face multiple times, louder in their progression just to see the tips of his ears burn that endearing red. These declarations are reserved for breakfast. At this time you also chide him for trying to weasel his way out of eating the most important meal of the day!

And he’d sigh, letting you hound him about food options until he’d crack under the weight of your grin and end up mixing batter at 7:30 in the morning.

(“I tried flipping them in the air once and the pancake slapped me in the face,” you’d regaled, head resting idly on your fist.

Dan Heng stared into the black of the skillet. “...Somehow, I don’t doubt it.”

“And just what is that supposed to mean?” you huffed.

He almost let not-quite laugh slip then, but because of his stuck-uppery, he just managed to look peeved. “I would appreciate it if you passed me the butter.”)

Instead it is around 9:00 in the morning, and Dan Heng is alone. 

He’d stayed up late the night before doing some reading, causing him to oversleep and rush the process today. He’s almost burned his hand on the stove eye twice, nearly dropped an egg on the floor, and has just narrowly avoided burning the batch. Dan Heng is not clumsy (not like you were), and he is painfully aware that he is late.

After he plates the food, the oven clock reads 9:19. He gathers everything, including two sets of utensils and one awkward wad of napkins - before setting the table by heart. Your plate goes in front of the chair closest to the window, and his goes in front of the one adjacent to yours. 

The rhythm of distributing each item eventually leaves him with empty hands. Everything is ready, but there is still something colossal missing from the scene.

Dan Heng stares hard at your empty seat before taking his own. 

The pancakes are blackened around the edges, but it’s nothing a good heaping portion of syrup can’t fix, and the smell that wafts upward is sweet and inviting. The sun’s rays shining in from the outside world paint the kitchen in flecks of light that occasionally catch on his arm when he brings his fork to his mouth.

Resigned, his silverware clatters noisily to the table.

“I’m sorry,” he breathes, “I’m sorry that I was late.”

Predictably, there’s no response. Dan Heng’s throat feels like it’s closing up on him, and the syrup definitely isn’t helping. He dabs his mouth with his napkin for a good long while.

He is sorry. It wasn’t enough that he’d stayed up late the night before, but that he deliberately kept glancing at the clock and counting the hours until daylight arrived - reminding himself that if he drifted off, the next day would come much sooner.

He isn’t the type to procrastinate either. Even when you’re not here anymore, you seem to have a profound effect on his character. Dan Heng pinches the bridge of his nose. The sound of his voice echoing off the walls of the lonely kitchen is unwelcome. “Happy birthday.”

It’s strained, imperfect, and painful; which only serves to remind him of your insistence on celebrating his birthday as well. You had practically prostrated yourself at his feet, begging him to let you fuss over him - even if it made his vision hazy and palms sweaty. He needs to return the favor, even if the mere idea of another important date passing him up without you makes him want to hide.

So here he is. 

Here he is, floundering terribly, missing you terribly, loving you terribly. Dan Heng wrenches his hand from its secure position in his lap to drum on the table.

“I got you something,” he says. “I… I didn’t know which color you’d prefer more, so…”

You’d tease him into an early grave if you were able to see the knitted oven mitt he’d picked out over two months ago. It’s an almost hideous shade of teal that he’s sure you’d love, especially since you forced him to bake with you regularly.

(He was shopping with March 7th when he’d seen it and then reflexively dumped it into his basket. His companion only asked him if he was planning on using it as kindling for the fireplace.)

Dan Heng closes his eyes and slides it over to your placement. For a second, he almost fools himself into thinking you might magically appear to brush fingers when you accept the gift with a bright smile. He has no such luck.

Your breakfast is getting colder, and there’s nothing to be done today; his friends, as much as he can say he appreciates them - also meddle quite a bit. His schedule was mysteriously cleared up and he was gently encouraged to go home and take the day off. The feeling of three pairs of eyes drilling holes into his back as he complied was a bit too potent to be coincidental.

So he sits there and pretends he’s eating with you for as long as he can. The stutters in the familiar rhythm that comes with today are things he can smooth out over time, even if it feels like a betrayal to you. You would never see it like that, which is why he can even live in a home without you in it at all.

(The oven mitt rests beside your full plate until the afternoon, because he cannot bring himself to clean up just yet. He doesn’t think he’ll ever be ready to.)

Dan Heng is not a man who can afford to hope, but he’s already been in debt since the moment of his birth. If just one of his prayers is granted, he hopes it’s the one he runs through his mind every night:

In the next life, please let us cross paths again. And if there’s room for it, please let me love you for as long as I can.

He’s never been one for optimism, but it’s all he looks forward to.

Hanya’s hands cradle the expanse of your face.

Her fingers ghost over any healthy glow remaining in your cheeks. You’re slipping, rightfully so, but does it make her a monster if she wants to claw and rifle through the sands of time to search for any universe where you were spared from this cruel fate?

(She thinks it does.)

You can’t get the words out, but there’s a resigned film that glazes over your eyes - one that tells her that she needn’t lie about where you’ll be going. Your mouth forms silent syllables punctuated by wheezes that will surely send her careening under the depths of the unconscious at record speed.

“Han.. ya,” you croak, “Stay.”

“I will,” she promises, because she needs to - over and over, until you remember it always, even when you’re gone. Even when you’re suffering through the last moments of your fledgling life. “I will remain here.”

Her duty as a Judge of the Ten-Lords Commission is to oversee life and death on the Xianzhou. When Hanya drifts aimlessly like a spectre between inky darkness and blinding daylight, it has occasionally struck her that one day she might have to oversee yours.

Presently, your mind is being swallowed by the maw of mara, a madness that she’s all too familiar with; faced with her dull countenance, she must have witnessed thousands succumb to the fate of infernal life. 

“D-Don’t cry,” you beseech. There isn’t much time until you’re no longer Hanya’s secret reprieve, but instead a writhing abomination - and she only has herself to blame. Had she not embraced you so tightly, would you be free of this curse? Would you still be smiling and dragging her by the hand through Exalting Sanctum?

“I will not send you there,” she breathes, “You are not deserving of—”

The agonizing cry you let out next is still beautiful. Even now you can mitigate the emptiness that’s dug its claws in her heart so deep that it’s become symbiotic with the organ. However, instead of the empty, Hanya feels its distant relative: the pins and needles. The hollow white noise crackles until she’s pierced with an arsenal of skeletal knives.

She could take it, and she would take it, if it meant that you weren’t about to die and then awaken again as a monster that desecrates the very concept of you.

She releases your now matching tear-stricken cheeks before seizing both of your arms. The thrashing has crept in, meaning that there isn’t much time before you start sprouting leaves and weeds like a statue abandoned by its devotees. 

A sharp inhale through clenched teeth. “You have… to. M’gonna hurt—” you convulse in her grasp, “—somebody...”

Of course you’re worrying about others right now. Kindness is a relic of the past that you’ve somehow managed to exhume, restore to its full glory, and gift to Hanya like she deserves to touch others’ lives in the same way you have. 

Every shopkeep knows your name, face, voice, and smile. Your warmth is infectious - even before she knew you in person, she knew of you by word of mouth. Xueyi had told her that the reason Huohuo was so resolute in her duties lately was because of “the person who defeated a bunch of reprobate hooligan bullies tormenting her”. 

If her big sister held you in high regard, she figured you were one she wouldn’t mind exchanging greetings with if you ever crossed paths. However, the thing about you is that you always give more than you take; you too eventually gave her your smile over tea, your opinion on her writing, and a perspective from the light she usually only smothers upon first contact. 

It seems that it was just a matter of time before Hanya extinguished you.

“You are not ready,” she begs pitifully, “You are not!”

She knows it’s never about being ready. Bad things always happen to good people - to sons, daughters, friends, big sisters, and lovers.

Lovers. 

The word is foreign on the tip of her tongue. It’s strange to be actualized and even stranger to ascribe that label to your relationship, but Hanya doesn’t know what else to think when the knives stab her over and over to the elegy of I love you, I love you, I love you.

The trek from Fyxestroll Garden to the Alchemy Commission is sizable. The Dragon Lady could see you and do her best, but she’s seen where that’s led; best efforts gone to waste, inconsolable loved ones given false hope because they were too stubborn to let go.

Is that what she is? Too stubborn to let you go, even when she’s brought this karma upon you?

(Yes, something ugly whispers, this is your penance. Now it’s theirs too.)

“I...” you let out a strangled groan, and when your chest jerks upwards, it barely registers that you brush your lips against hers. There’s tears and snot everywhere, and you’re getting stronger - too strong for her to hold. Hanya’s forearms ache with the strain as gingko leaves begin to ravage your humanity and rip you apart.

The transformation process is cruel, but she promised to remain by your side. Twigs protrude from your neck, nestled between thorny brambles that poke and prod. You are not a Cloud Knight, so your screams aren’t muffled by armor - or muted by the numbness she feels when dealing with other cases. 

It’s too real, it’s too much, and it’s not enough.

Drowned out by the previous mantra of I love you, the background vocals of I’m so sorry peter off into whispers that are soon lost among the sickening squelch of Xueyi’s blade cutting through you in one clean motion. The tip of the sword rests over Hanya’s heart, stained with your blood.

“...That’s not them anymore,” her sister says. It’s off-kilter, the way her brow is furrowed in a silent apology.

One can only hope.

taglist: @flower-yi, @moineauz, @aphrodict, @nomazee

[canisalbus]

.

[fairyhaos]

how seventeen make the shot after saying "this one's for you"

requested by anon! im actually terrible at basketball so even if none of them made the shot then id be impressed at them for trying lmaoo. also chan is in 2 bc i think he fits both!

masterlist

seungcheol, hoshi, mingyu

makes the shot, is endlessly pleased with himself. will not shut up about it. it's going to be the story he tells during nights out with the others for the next five weeks straight. he's so genuinely delighted and he's all “did you see that? you saw that right? it's because i did it for you babe that's why it went in—” pls give this man a pat on the head and tell him that he did well bc otherwise there's a chance he'll keep pestering you until you compliment him. no but in all honesty, it really is quite sweet how excited he gets about it, and it does make you feel all kinds of loved.

jeonghan, minghao

makes the shot, and looks at you all weird when you're genuinely surprised. he knows how to handle a ball, okay? why are you so shocked? is the teensiest bit pleased on the inside though bc your reaction genuinely helped fuel his ego hugely. takes about 5 more shots in a row and is now grinning a little bc the wowed expression on your face does not fade. he has to eventually stop because he is starting to get a little embarrassed at how genuinely impressed you are.

joshua, junhui, dokyeom

doesn't make it, but he's so adorably embarrassed that it has you collapsing into a laugh and automatically going over to him to squish his cheeks, endeared. there's that tense moment where you think the ball is gonna go through the hoop, but when it ends up just bouncing off the side and shooting far away to somewhere else, he's turning away in embarrassment and you're grinning and reaching over to hug him and coo that it's okay because he made the shot into your heart long ago, and that's a shot that he definitely did not miss

woozi, seungkwan, (chan)

isn't able to make the shot right up until you finally drag him out of the court. he's normally good at this, but he swears that it's bc of the pressure he put on himself by declaring that he's gonna do it. woozi doesn't make it bc he gave up after three times. seungkwan doesn't make it bc he keeps talking between every shot and eventually you laugh and drag him home. chan tries his best, but apparently the ball must have had an argument with the hoop or smth bc it just refuses to go in and it's definitely not his fault

wonwoo, vernon, (chan)

either misses the hoop by miles or makes the shot and then gets all surprised at his own abilities. “holy shit did you see that? i'm basically a basketball god now. woozi can be the god of music and ill be the god of basketball” he is not basically a basketball god, but it was a good shot, and you laugh at how proud he is for making it as he gestures to the hoop and re-commentates the entire act for you like you weren't watching him the whole time. his reward for successfully wowing you is head pats and the promise of whatever ice cream he wants once you finally leave the court and go home.

request guidelines

reactions tags: @weird-bookworm @minhui896 @bunnyiix @slytherinshua @haowrld @belladaises @newgirlygirl @moonlitskiiies @mirxzii @wonranghaeee @yonabutnotyuna @crackedpumpkin @wqnwoos @kthstrawberryshortcake-main @kawennote09 @a-wandering-stay @icyminghao @valenhui @sweet-like-caramel @odxrilove @kyeomyun @chansburgah @pepperonijem @jeonride @kellesvt @hanniehaee @astrozuya @eightlightstar @onlyyjeonghan @aaniag @amxlia-stars @all-american-fangirl @f1uffyjun @jeonghanfr

[sugumii]

Could I request Gepard, Blade, Welt, and Jing Yuan reacting to their s/o telling them a long speech about how they'd trek through a blizzard, sail or swim through the seas, and fight an Aeon for them?

Dramatically Confessing your love to HSR Boys! Edition: One

Gepard:

Pink dusted the blonde’s cheeks after hearing your sudden confession. The way you stood triumphantly after such a loving declaration had him feeling even shyer. Just how were you able to sputter such words and be completely unfazed by it? His mind raced and his heartbeat quickened.

He took a deep breath.

"I-... I'm flattered... really. But what's the reason for saying this all of a sudden?" He said, hiding his flushed cheeks with his gloved hand. You chuckled at his display, heart warm from his cuteness.

"No particular reason! I just wanted to express my love to you." You stepped in front of him and leaned your face closer to his. Your smile grew at how the blonde's body leaned back in embarrassment with his eyes wide.

"Y/n, not now... I'm on duty." Gepard protested, eyes averting from your attractive smile. God... just the mere look on your face was enough to send butterflies to his stomach. He shut his eyes tightly, hating the shyness he felt right now. He was the captain of the Silvermane guards for crying out loud! He was strong and assertive! Not so... shy and easily flustered.

"Oh really?" You countered, leaning in closer to him just to where your nose nearly touched his. His eyes snapped open and looked at you in bewilderment. His blush grew a darker pink and he murmured incoherent words.

"What was that, Geppie?" You teased him more, clearly enjoying the reactions you were getting out of your lover. It was so terribly easy to make him all shy and flustered after all.

"Fuck..." He cursed, cheeks now burning at the stubborn blush adorning his face. The effect you had on him... the chokehold you had him in... it was just too much! He finally regained his composure and embraced you suddenly much to your surprise. You instantly went to wrap your arms around his back but before you could, he whispered into your ear before rushing off back to his patrol area. The words he muttered to you caused a bright red blush to cover your cheeks.

"Just wait until I get home from work later."

___

Blade:

"...?"

Blood-red eyes burned into you emotionlessly after your long proclamation of love. The silence, now starting to be a bit awkward, was getting to you. You sweated nervously at this as you avoided your boyfriend's blank gaze. Had this been a bad idea after all? Perhaps saying you'd fight an aeon was too much... especially since you mentioned you'd ‘throw hands’ with Elio if he actually fulfilled Blade's wish in the end.

Uh oh.

Perhaps that was indeed a dumb idea.

Before you could continue to overthink a deep chuckle snapped you out of your thoughts causing your heart to flutter. Wait.., was Blade laughing!? At you!? Your eyes immediately snapped up to his face and as suddenly as the laughter escaped his throat the second it vanished. His attractive and masculine face had returned to its usual blank expression as he stared at you from his position on the bed.

"You're quite the character... aren't you?' His deep voice spoke, cutting through the silence. His voice had a hint of amusement but hid well in his monotone tone.

You blinked with a racing heart.

"...You laughed. Should I be offended or find that endearing? Cause I kinda confessed my love to you and you just laughed at me.”

A scoff escaped your lover's throat and his dark eyes narrowed at you. He leaned against the wall with crossed arms while sitting on the opposite end from you.

"Take it as you please. Your confessions are always peculiar."

You pouted at his words, scooting closer to him and promptly lying your head down on his lap. He made no objections, being used to your sudden gestures, and settled for gently placing a hand on your head. Your heart sped up at the feeling of his gloved hand making contact with your hair. His thighs surprisingly felt rather soft and plump… a stark contrast to his hard chest.

"But that does not imply I don't enjoy them." He commented, now studying the blush adorning your cheeks. You moved to hide your face in his lap. Just how can he say such things and be so nonchalant about it? No fair…

"Quiet, bully. I'm shy now..."

A deep hum escaped his throat and an amused glint appeared in his eyes while studying you. His hand continued stroking your hair and he shook his head with a sigh.

"I suppose I too would fight an aeon for you. I'd fight with all my might this body offers with anyone who dares to stand in my way from you..." He closed his eyes when you opened yours to sneak a peek at him. Just the slightest hint of a smile on his face which made your heart jump.

"Is that what you wished to hear?"

___

Welt:

"You'd... do what and what now?" Confused brown eyes gave you a look over. The tall male stood in front of you with a look of… concern. What... were you on about exactly? Welt was so lost at your need to confess your desire to... fight a flaming dragon covered in poison while swimming the seven seas to get to him?

"I'm a bit lost on why you would uhm... need to do this, to begin with, dear? Care to explain?"

You frowned playfully at your lover's obliviousness. You found it a bit funny to be fair how he took what you said literally (I mean who's to say you wouldn't do it) but... Welt's always been a bit dense when it came to your way of flirting.

"I said what I said. I'd fight a dragon for you and sail the sea to get your love. You mean a lot to me so... I just wanted to express that! In my own weird way." You chuckled, scratching your neck awkwardly.

Welt blinked and pushed his glasses up.

"I... see. Well, in that case, I'd fight a dragon for you too my dear." He said with a small smile as your eyes brightened up at him. The way his chest swelled with happiness at your cute expressions was just too much for his poor old heart. He truly adored you so much.

"Really!? Even a flaming dragon covered in poison?" You inquired curiously.

He chuckled again and nodded with a growing smile.

"If that's what it takes, love. Then yes, I would."

You happily hugged him and snuggled your face into his chest, relishing in the warmth his long and strong arms provided when they returned the embrace. The familiar scent of coffee from Himeko's fresh morning brew lingered on his clothes causing you to take another deep inhale. It smelled so good... but definitely didn't taste as sweet as it smelled.

"I love you, Welt."

He smiled gently, patting your head.

"I love you too, my dear."

____

Jing Yuan:

An amused chuckle escaped the general's throat as he sat on his chair. You were currently standing in front of him dramatically posing after barging into his office midday to interrupt his work with your "important" proclamation. He rested a hand on his cheek and leaned against the desk with an entertaining grin.

"Oh? And I'd fight two dragons for you and swim the seas myself to find you, my love." He challenged you, one-upping your previous confession. Your lips curved into a mischievous grin at your boyfriend's playfulness. Ever since you dated him you noticed he had a childish side too. He always went along with your immature schemes which you loved. He was truly so fun to be around despite his serious title. You stepped closer to him.

"Just two? I'd fight 100 dragons for your love and sail the sea for YEARS just to get to you. Beat that." You snorted.

His grin widened and his golden eyes stared at yours with a confident gaze. Oh, it was on.

"I'd defeat any enemy that stood before my path and sail for an eternity if it meant merely gazing at your gorgeous face once more..."

You flushed at that comment but refused to back down. A comeback… you needed a comeback! You racked your brain for a response to top his as your boyfriend watched you in amusement. His cat like smile widening a bit and in his mind he knew he had won: checkmate.

“Might I say, you’re so adorable when trying to beat me, my dear.” He commented, relishing in the way your eyes widened and stared at him like a deer in headlights. Had he really just called you out like that!? So embarrassing…

He continued.

“I suppose that means that I won. Another victory to add to our past history.”

You pouted and stomped out his office, ignoring his arrogant call to you.

“Next time, be prepared to fight 200 dragons for me!”

[moonstruckme]

hi! i hope you're having a good day<3 i was wondering if you could write a remus x fem!reader where they aren't really dating but everyone knows they like each other (them included) where r has kinda mean friends? like, they leave her out of everything and she constantly feels bad about it. and ever time she tells remus he's like "you should drop them, you deserve better" and he's just trying to get her to see that she deserves better?

Thank you <3

modern au

Remus Lupin x fem!reader ♡ 736 words

Remus can feel a heaviness building where you sit on the couch next to him. 

He lets his eyes slide subtly in your direction, and you’re frowning at your phone. Not an upset frown, no pursed lips or drawn brows, just a slight downturn of the corners of your mouth. You look defeated, and Remus can’t abide it. 

“Everything alright, love?”

Predictably, you soften like butter at the endearment, and your expression as you turn to him is kind if not happy. “Yeah, I’m good,” you say, and Remus pretends not to know it’s a lie. He waits. Your eyes drop to his shoulder, one thumbnail picking at the other distractedly. “I just wish…I wish that if my friends were going to hang out without me, they’d at least not post so much about it.” 

A familiar ache starts up in his chest. “Oh no. What’ve they done?” 

You shrug like it’s little to you, but he sees the way you press your lips together, the faint redness creeping up from your neck. He hopes you don’t cry, if only to spare his delicate heart. 

“They’re all at Hannah’s place, I guess. Going to go see the new movie premiere.” You laugh. It sounds raw. “I actually asked them if they wanted to go do that tonight, and they all said they were busy.” 

The frailty of your voice works like glass shards, cleaving Remus clean open. “Darling,” he says, and he doesn’t care that you’re not official enough to acknowledge the endearment in its full capacity. You both know he means it well enough. His hand slides atop yours the way one tempers one ingredient by adding a tiny bit of another before the rest. You soften at his touch, and Remus goes all the way, curling his arms under yours to give your back a firm squeeze. “I know you’re sick of hearing it from me, but they really don’t deserve you.” 

A tiny drop of warm wetness slides from your face to his shirt. His own fault, really, but if a good cry is what you need he’s ready to indulge you. “I just want to know what it is about me that makes me so terrible to be around,” you weep, and Remus crushes you to his front unthinkingly, a protective ire swelling within him. He wishes he could go to your friend’s house and give these girls a talking-to right now, but you probably wouldn’t thank him for it. He settles for dragging his palm up and down your back, hip to shoulder and back again. 

“Don’t say that,” he pleads with you. 

“I know, I’m sorry.” Your sigh is a stilted, shuddering thing. “I’m putting you in an awful position. I don’t mean to fish for compliments.” 

“I know,” he promises, his hand stopping where Remus can feel your heart beating through the material of your shirt. “And I’m not saying it out of any sense of obligation, but you really are lovely to be around. I mean” —he pulls back so you can see his face, hoping the sincerity in it will make some headway against your self-doubt— “would I be here if you weren’t?”

You give him a small smile, thin-lipped. “You’re very nice.” 

Remus laughs, wrapping his fingers around your upper arms and barely restraining himself from trying to shake some sense into you. “I’m not that nice. But okay, Sirius would never hang around anyone he didn’t actually like, can we agree there?” He takes your silence for acquiescence, and, with a gentle smile, goes on. “Every one of our friends sees how kind, and smart, and lovely you are. They” —he shoots a pointed look at your phone— “are the only ones who don’t. That’s how I know you’re not the problem, sweetheart,” he says, softer now. “They are.” 

You look him in the eyes as you take a deep breath. This one goes in and out steadier than the last, and some of the tension in his own chest eases. “Thank you,” you tell him. 

Remus can’t help himself; he pulls you in for another hug, selfish to his core. “No thanks necessary,” he says firmly.

“I guess the only thing to do,” you say, voice muffled against his shoulder, “is to stop trying to make plans with them and hang out exclusively with you.” 

Remus laughs. He doesn’t hate the sound of that.

[meowzfordayz]

hashiras' first "I love you"

Author’s Note: a lil fluff for the sake of a lil fluff. 🤗 Kyojuro’s was inspired by @somelattes' should've known better... which you should totally read btw (read it and weep 😭💀).

hashiras’ first “I love you”

Hashira x Reader

Word Count: ~1,800

CW:  none

~faqs~

“I love you,” Gyomei whispers, confident that you’re asleep, “I love you and your steady breaths, the sensation of your fingers tugging on my happi, how I know your mood by listening to your footsteps…”

You grunt, rolling over at his confession, taking the blankets with you. He smiles.

“I love you,” as he curves his warm body around yours, “Thank you,” as he presses a kiss to the back of your head, “Thank you so much.”

You’re asleep, truly, but that doesn’t stop the blossom of red in your dreams, heartbeat quickening to keep up with Gyomei’s own longing, words on the tip of your tongue — if only you slept talked.

“And when you wake,” he murmurs, “I’ll be happy to tell you again.”

“I love you,” Obanai sighs, cheeks red and sour as he glares at his feet, “Alright?”

“Alright,” you quip, mimicking his actions with quiet chuckle.

It takes him a long moment to notice your teasing, signature scowl wrinkling his face when he finally realizes you’re copying his embarrassed disposition.

“Well don’t mock me and my love for you!” he hisses, arms crossing tightly, taking a decisive step back from your amused expression, “I’m being vulnerable, damn it!”

“I know, I know,” your hands raise in apologetic defense, mouth still quirked with endearment, “You’re just so…”

“So what?” he huffs.

“So grumpy when you’re in love!” you laugh loudly now, tugging at his wrists, adoration swelling in your chest when he doesn’t flinch or pull away from you, “And in case it wasn’t obvious, I love you too.”

“I love you!” Mitsuri exclaims, sleepy ascent of the sun interrupted by her pink cheeks and wide stare, “That’s why I always ask if we can watch the sunrise together! Because I figured, some day, I would have the courage to tell you! I love you!”

You nod slowly, early morning drowsiness muddling your comprehension, a glowing smile gradually replacing the tiredness of your face as her feelings sink through your skin.

“You love me?” you repeat softly.

“Is that so difficult to believe?” her head tilts, concern filling her gaze, “Of course I love you!”

A quiet exhale of laughter slips from your mouth, arms gentle and tender as you reach for her warmth, a satisfied hum vibrating against her earlobe when she accepts your embrace.

“It’s difficult to believe,” you admit, still in shock, body doing its best to memorize the curve and weight of her scent melting into you, “But I’d be the world’s biggest idiot to turn from your love.”

“So you love me too?” she grins, the faintest trace of fear catching on the end of her question.

“I do. I love you, Kanroji Mitsuri, I love you too.”

“I love you,” Shinobu admits, reluctance in her fingers as they grasp your elbow, gently moving your limb, “It’s a terrible feeling, to love someone, but I do.”

“Well I feel loved,” you remark wryly, eyebrow raising at her airy tone, wincing as she tests your range of motion, “Are you sure you aren’t pranking me? Going to laugh at me in five seconds, give or take?”

Sighing quietly, she shakes her head once, “I deserve that,” humming with dissatisfaction.

“What exactly is the point in telling me you love me if it’s such a burden to you?” you ask pointedly, “And how am I doing?”

“You’re healing slowly,” Shinobu reports, frowning when your jaw clenches, “But still healing. You’ll be alright.”

“And you? Will you be alright?”

“If you’re asking whether I’ll survive being in love with you,” she chuckles lowly, “Then of course. I’ll survive.”

“But will you be alright?” you repeat.

She lets your arm fall, gaze steady as she watches your expression twinge, “Do you love me?”

“Is that even appropriate?” you snort, “I’m your patient.”

“Every slayer is my patient. Who else am I supposed to love?”

“I do love you,” you say softly, pretenses dissipating as fatigue snakes up your spine, body haunching, “I’m sorry.”

“I love you,” Kyojuro declares, watching loud tears drip down your cheeks, “How could I not return?”

“Well dying would certainly make returning difficult,” you sniffle, not quite processing his confession, “Don’t make promises you can’t keep.”

“Ah, but I’ve been keeping this promise for ages!” he smiles wider, sadness softening the corners of his mouth, “I promise I love you.”

“Ages?” your eyes widen, “You-!”

“It’s hard to steal a moment for ourselves,” Kyojuro shrugs apologetically, “But I swear I wake up thinking about you.”

“And before you fall asleep?” you dare to ask, breath held in your shocked chest.

“I hear the color of your laughter,” he blushes, discomfort pricking at his fingertips, “How do you feel?”

“How do I feel?” you scoff now, amusement brightening your tone as you point a wry finger at his nose, “If you’ve loved me for ages, then I’ve loved you for forever!”

“I love you,” Sanemi murmurs, catching your wrist as you turn to leave, cutting through your wall of anger with such a simple, delicate movement — such a painful, quiet admission.

“What does that even mean?” you snap, shuddering as his confession digs into your shoulder blades, “You hate everything.”

“I don’t,” he frowns slightly, clinging onto your fingers as he clings onto the hope that Maybe, maybe they won’t shake me off.

“Prove it,” you goad darkly, skin burning from his touch, unwilling to detach yourself even as you scowl in disbelief, “What else do you love?”

“I love the sunrise,” he begins carefully, tone level and gentle, unbearingly tender, “I love getting to see you smile,” smirking to himself, “As well as beating you up,” fixing a warm, welcoming grin on your astonished, unblinking eyes, “I love hearing you judge me, challenge me, worm your way into me,” shrugging as he traces your knuckles with the roughness of his thumb, “I love the scent of ginger, and the crackle of autumn, the fullness of a rainstorm, and how entranced you look.”

His intention to tease you utterly fails as his voice softens to an unknowing simmer, the intimacy of his grasp suddenly registering as you yank your hand to your chest.

“You’re forgetting something,” you whisper, stuck in the sinking of his stare.

“Of course,” Sanemi laughs lightly, stepping in, listening to your breaths — listening to how you don’t step away, “I love you.”

“And if I can’t say it back?” you venture.

He snorts, flicking your forehead with an unceremonious thwack, “That’s fine. My love has no deadline, no time limit, no strings. It just is.”

“I love you.”

Your eyebrows furrow, lips parting as you stare dumbfounded at Muichiro.

“Did you hear me?” his head tilts, “I said, I love you.”

“I heard you!” you hurriedly assure him, your fingers locking then unlocking then locking together, “You caught me off guard, is all.”

He smiles at that, that same warm smile that only you’ve seen — that same warm smile you’ve taken for granted, as though you didn’t know yourself to be the reason behind his rapid heartbeat and sweaty palms.

“So, what do you think?”

He hopes you don’t notice how his left pinky trembles, how his toes keep curling and uncurling, how terribly flustered his face is.

“As in, how do I feel?” you squeak.

“No. I mean. Yes, but also, what do you think about me loving you?”

“I think it’s great!” you blurt, breaths shortening as you reach instinctively for his hand, “I just really wasn’t expecting it!”

He almost asks Are you sure? searing regret beginning to root him into the ground (to swallow him whole, actually), when you make contact, grip clammy yet decisive.

“I… wasn’t sure if you loved anyone like that,” you explain gently, thoughts finally gathered, “If I could hold your attention in such a way… but I’m happy to know that I can. That I do.”

“So my love is a good thing?” he murmurs shyly.

You nod, returning the warmth in his timid smile as you dart in to peck his cheek, “Absolutely.”

“I love you,” Giyuu says simply, wind billowing though the sleeves of his haori as he rests a light palm on your shoulder, “Please remember that.”

How could I forget? you try to whisper, response caught in your throat as you close the distance between his nervous pulse and your shocked heartbeat, finally accepting the coolness of his embrace.

“Promise me?” his voice roughens, chin digging into the back of your neck, “I can’t bear to lose you.”

I can’t bear to be lost by you.

“I promise,” you manage to rasp, muscles relaxing into the awkwardness of his touch, “And Giyuu?”

He freezes at the lilt in your tone, eyes squeezing shut, fear blossoming in his stomach, yet unable to release you.

“I have always loved you.”

“I love you!” Tengen grins, pride expanding his chest as lightness fills his head, “I love you dearly and devotedly.”

“You love everyone,” you laugh casually, waving off his confession with a bright smile, your hair glistening in the afternoon sunshine, “I love you too, Uzui-san.”

“No, no, no,” his grin falters, jaw twitching, arms crossing, “I love you.”

“Okaaay,” you raise a curious eyebrow, stepsiding an overgrown shrub, still smiling, “You love Hinatsuru, Makio, and Suma too.”

“Too,” he emphasizes exasperatedly, “As in, I love you. I love you too. I love you as well. I love only you.”

You huff, “You’re so complicated,” gesturing out at the path in front of you, “Unlike this trail, you confuse me immensely.”

“How do you feel about my wives?” he promptly switches tactics, unsure how to further convey his intent, odd nervousness swelling in his fingertips Must be the heat.

You blush faintly, voice quiet as you respond, “I enjoy their company.”

“And they enjoy your company!” he exclaims, nearly jumping with frustration.

“What exactly are you trying to tell me?”

“That I love you.”

You almost groan, believing the conversation to have returned to square one, when your eyes widen comically, pace halting completely as you stare accusingly—excitedly—at his expectant expression.

“You want to marry me.”

He nods immediately, “Well, eventually, yes.”

“You love me,” you whisper, pointing at yourself.

Looking quite pleased, and significantly less stressed now, Tengen nods again, “Indeed.”

“Why didn’t you just say that?!” you shriek indignantly, smacking his bicep, wincing as you accidentally hit his armband. 

“I did,” he shrieks back, poking at you with unavoidable speed, “I told you no fewer than seven times!!!!!”

[sturnsiolos0]

Carried Away-Chris sturniolo

Listening to Chris talk about his interest was one of your favourite pass-times. The enthusiasm that would fill him whenever he got onto the topic, the passion that would fuel his voice and the excitement behind each gesture as he demonstrated his thoughts. Every time it somehow managed to make him even more endearing in your eyes. More often than not you would catch yourself staring at him, and would hurry to conceal your awe-struck expression lest anyone catch you out.

Listening to Chris also led you down a familiar path of emotions that you now knew the order of off by heart. First, you would be filled with admiration for his passion, which would then stray to a deliberation of how that passion would transfer to an activity that involved less talking - and less clothing - before abruptly colliding with the brick wall of reality and falling down into a well of disappointment at the knowledge of Chris not liking you the same way you liked him.

Chris didn't think of you in that way, didn't wonder about what lay beneath those layers of clothes, didn't dream about lips locked with lips and skin on skin. At least, that's what you told yourself. After all, everyone knows that it's a terrible idea to develop a crush on one of your friends.

The pair of you were sprawled out over the floor of his room, sat opposite from each other, and you try your very best to divert your eyes from staring at Chris's lips as he talks, and down to the disorganized books piled before you instead, computers also placed ahead of you both ready and waiting for you to start your essay. You would have been more than happy to have completed the essay by yourself - it would save you the distractions and heartache at the very least - but Chris insisted on helping with the studying if you helped with the wording, and of course, you couldn't say no to him, nor could you deny yourself the opportunity to listen to Chris's fervent lecturing and get lost in his voice.

You blink as your mind zones back in, just managing to catch the end of Chris's excited chatter. Glancing up, you find him looking over at you from over the top of his own stack of notes, and you flush guiltily when you realise he's caught you in the act of not paying attention. Chris’s cheeks tint pink and he glances away, back down at the open notebook in front of him.

"Sorry, got carried away again."

"No, it's fine." You reassure, smiling wider when his gaze flickers back up to you. "I'm the one who's sorry, my mind was a million miles away."

"Oh, you okay?" He asks, a concerned frown pinching at his brows as he considers your apologetic smile.

"Yeah, now should we make a start on that essay?"

Chris nods, turning his attention to the keyboard of his computer to type the title of the essay at the top of his screen. You continue to read, flitting between textbook pages as you absorb different details before finally finding a passage that you could reword and use as a solid introduction.

"Hey, Chris, how about we use this as a starter?" You ask, before starting to read aloud. Finishing the sentence, you look up expectantly to find Chris shifting uncomfortably on the spot, eyes focused on his lap.

"Chris?" He jumps, head jolting up and shoulders stiffening. "Are you alright?"

"Mhm” Chris hums, looking away. "Okay.." You mumble, not believing him for a second. "Well, what did you think of that for the introduction? We can switch the words around and everything so it doesn't look like we copied it."

"Good idea. I'll write it down." He offers, and you nod gratefully.

"Hmm, okay, so how about…" You re-read the paragraph again, trying to jostle the words about in your mind. When your musings are met with silence besides the whisper of rustling fabric, you look back up from the pages to find Chris once again shuffling where he was sat as he tugs at his sweatshirt. Narrowing your eyes, you straighten your spine and ask him once more, "Are you sure you're alright?"

He nods, swallowing thickly. "Y-yeah, just a bit hot, that's all."

You take note of his flushed cheeks and clammy forehead and nod. "You're right, it is pretty warm in here." You comment, before reaching down and tugging your own sweatshirt off to toss aside, leaving you in the top you had put on underneath. When you realise that Chris is still wearing his sweatshirt and staring blankly at you, your brow furrows. "I thought you said you were hot?"

"Did I? Oh, yeah, no. I'm, I'm fine." He rambles, completely flustered, and you consider him for a moment longer as he scrambles to snatch up his textbook and settle it in his lap before sighing and returning to the essay.

"Right…”

Chris’s breathing picks up, and you glance up with a mischievous grin to find him looking anywhere but at you. Giggling, you wait for him to reply with something, but he simply continues to avoid your eyes, and you stop, amusement falling away as your concern returns full force.

"Chris, seriously, what's wrong? You're like really worrying me now." Dropping your textbooks and shoving them to the side, you begin to crawl across the space between you, only for him to jerk away. The book in his lap tumbles to the floor with a thud in his haste.

All you can manage is a blink of surprise, mouth slightly agape as you realise that Chris is hard, his cock straining against his pants.

"Oh fuck, sorry" He stumbles over his words, and you force your wide eyes away from his crotch to focus on his face, burning red with embarrassment. "I'm sorry, honestly, I didn't mean to-"

"Don't be sorry, I don't mind."

Biting your lip, you settle back, glancing down at your own lap as you fight to quell your own arousal. "You sure?" He murmurs. Raising your head, you meet his eye, holding your breath, you slowly shake your head.

"i’m sure." You breathe, the flicker of hope in your eyes mirroring that in his. Chris lets out a exhale, and you offer him a tentative smile, your hands twitching, desperate to reach out even though you force them to remain in your lap. Taking a deep, steadying breath, you steel yourself before whispering, "I could help you."

The room is silent, Chris staring at you with wide eyes that would be comical if not for the fact that you had basically just confessed your thoughts about him. Fidgeting in place, you find yourself holding your breath as the idea of the floor suddenly opening up to swallow you becomes really appealing.

"Really?" He finally asks. You give a small nod as a small grin begins to work its way onto his flushed face.

"Can I..?" You ask, reaching out and gesturing vaguely. Chris pushes up from where he'd been half-collapsed against the bed behind him with a frantic nod and leans forward, pausing a foot away from you. Hesitantly, you settle your hands on his shoulder as you tilt closer, your nose skimming his before your eyes flutter closed and you brush your lips against his. He gasps beneath you, movements unsure as his lips mimic the motions of your own, and you nod slightly in encouragement.

You shift your grasp on his shoulders, one hand slipping around for your fingers to thread into his hair at the nape of his neck whilst the other slides down to grasp at his clothed cock. You begin palming him lightly, a whimper then escaping his lips. Pulling away, an apology on the tip of your tongue, you open your eyes to find Chris frowning up at you.

"Sorry," He mutters, and your brows furrow.

"Don't be, did I take it too far?"

He shakes his head earnestly, the high points of his cheeks flaring crimson. "No, I liked it." He mutters lowly. Chris glances away at the admission, but you reach up to caress the sharp curve of his jaw.

He slowly leans in to close the distance, which you happily meet halfway. Shy explorations of each other's mouths are gradually met with timid brushes of Chris's hands at your sides, uncertain of where to place them. Without pulling away, your hands find his and you direct his hands to cup your breasts; he jumps slightly, breaking the kiss as he tries to catch his breath, and you lean back as you assess his face, although your hands remain on his.

Chris stares with wide eyes at his hands, gazing almost with wonder before his eyes flit up to your face. "Can I take this off?"

You almost giggle at his question, managing just in time to bite your tongue against the urge as you let go of his hands for him to pull off your top. You can feel his fingers tremble, and so you reach up and help him by tugging it over your head and dropping it beside you.

He seems to freeze as he stares, and so you reach out to cup his face before leaning in to kiss him again. It shakes him from his reverie, and he responds with shaky confidence, his hands finding a light purchase on your bare waist a few moments later. A breathy moan of approval escapes you, urging him on, and Chris's fingers begin to trace their way across your skin, gently as if he were handling something fragile, exploring the heated skin of your waist, your stomach, your back. Fingertips trace the band of your bra, ghosting from your spine to your front, where he pauses for a moment before reaching up to cup your breasts.

Whimpering quietly against his lips, you pull Chris closer, pushing yourself against his hands, and a smile tugs at your mouth when he continues on instead of pulling away. Your hands trail down his chest in reciprocation, fingers sliding beneath his sweatshirt, and you pause against his stomach before grazing your fingertips over his erection.

His hips jerk up at the sensation, and you're about to pull away and apologise for taking it too far again when Chris nods desperately, a quiet mumble of 'please' against your lips as he continues to caress and squeeze your tits. You fumble with the buckle of his belt, pulling away for a moment as you struggle, before tugging open his zip and pausing.

"You're sure?" You ask, and he nods. Reaching beyond his pants to caress his cock through his boxers, Chris's hips jerk up once again with a startled groan, and you smile softly before slipping your fingers beneath the elasticated waistband and pulling it down to free his stiff member, the head an angry red as droplets of pre-cum beaded at the tip in anticipation. You bite your lip for a moment before licking your palm and wrapping it around the base of his cock. Glancing up, you find Chris staring down at his lap, enraptured by your touch, and you give an experimental stroke before leaning forward and capturing his lips in another kiss.

Chris’s breathing is a jumble of ragged gasps and whimpers, strangled moans filling the air as you busy yourself with trailing kisses along his jaw. Your hand works its way up and down his length, a gentle twist at the base followed by the swipe of your thumb over the head on the upwards stroke, and he can't help himself but to thrust up desperately into your hand, desperate and needy.

"Do you want more?"

"P-please." He whines, and you give him one final kiss before shuffling backwards on your knees. Chris watches you with bleary eyes as you pull away, a question on his lips that dies immediately when you lean down and drag the tip of your tongue up the length of his cock. "Oh my g-, fuck"

You smile impishly, something about having this affect on Chris filling you with pride, and you give him another slow lick before wrapping your lips around the head and tracing his slit with the tip of your tongue. A loud moan escapes him, and you glance up through your lashes to find Chris struggling to keep his eyes open as his jaw hangs open, all but panting. He rakes one trembling hand through his hair, the other scrabbling with the floorboards, and you snake one hand up his leg, caressing his knee, grazing his thigh and settling in the center of his chest. You push firmly, and he drops backwards, flat against the floor, before you grab his free hand and guide it to the back of your head.

His hesitancy to hold your hair dissipates the moment you hollow your cheeks and bob your head, tongue flat as it laves at the underside of his cock, the throbbing of the vein like a pulse against your tongue. "F-fuck, oh, fuck! Please, please.."

You gradually pick up your pace as he begs, his hips twitching as he tries to restrain himself from thrusting up into your mouth. Part of you appreciates the consideration, although another, filthier part can't wait to drive Chris to the breaking point and have his way without a second thought to anything besides his own pleasure. A needy whine escapes you at the image your mind produces, of Chris writhing on his bed, hair damp with sweat and profanity falling from his sweet lips like a prayer, and his grip tightens in your hair as he chokes on a gasp.

"I-I’m gonna cum, s-shit," Is all he can utter before his hips jerk forwards, bumping into the back of your throat, and his cum spills into your mouth in thick bursts, coating your tongue. Pulling away in surprise, a ribbon of milky cum paints your cheek, and you swallow the contents of your mouth before sitting up.

Chris’s hand drops from your hair to flop onto the ground beside him, and you watch in amusement as he stares up at the ceiling with misty eyes, chest heaving and face flushed. He seems to snap out of it a few seconds later, his eyes flickering to find yours as he sits up, and his blush immediately darkens when he sees himself smeared across your cheek. "Shit sorry-"

Reaching out, you press your fingers to his lips, cutting off his hurried apologies. "No more saying sorry."

"Right, so-" He pauses mid-apology, a bashful smile tugging at his mouth, and you grin back. Chris clears his throat, glancing down and hastily tucking himself back into his boxers before meeting your eyes again, a nervous chuckle escaping him,

"Do you think we could do this again sometime?”

idk how to end these LMAO

[sillysillygoofygoose]

Dad Toji Headcanons!

Dad Toji, who is honestly a terrible father. Down right horrendous, boy failure, bad father. But he's trying his absolute best.

Dad Toji, who feeds a barley-teethed Megumi medium rare steak and is shocked when his son freaks out at the chewy texture he's unable to break down with his small and few pearly whites. Toji, however, still sneaks him food like he's a dog after being scolded by you.

"Shh sh, eat eat eat. Good boy, don't let mommy see."

Dad Toji, who loves taking pictures of his little boy. Megumi in a new outfit, Megumi on the playground, Megumi holding onto your neck, his unamused expression contrasting your bright smile... all of it is "professionally" captured on his beaten up iPhone 11.

Dad Toji, who thinks his son's attitude is the funniest thing ever.

"Baby look, I'm tickling the damn kid and he's fucking pissed!"

"Toji, please don't say 'fucking' in front of Megumi."

"Fucking?"

"HAHAHAHAHAHA, that's my boy! Say it again, Gumi!"

"NO!"

Dad Toji, who does not support the neck. This man holds his kid, his own flesh and blood, like a stylish tote bag. Tucked under his arm horizontally, suspended in the air as Toji grips onto his collar, upside-down held onto by the ankle. It just seems to get worse and worse every time Toji picks him up. However, the little boy remains completely unbothered and unfazed by his father's careless antics.

Dad Toji, who kinda wanted a girl. He would learn how to do her hair (and would fail miserably, but it's the thought that counts), he would play tea party with her, and would definitely tell her first boyfriend the most embarrassing stories he can think of, right after giving the young man the nastiest death stare as he walked into the house. Oh well, you'll just have try again! Maybe it will be a girl this time.

Dad Toji, who gets so nervous when Megumi starts crying. Not necessarily because of the cries, but because he has no idea how to stop them. It's like an alarm clock with no snooze button.

"Stop. Gumi, stop it. C'mon why are you crying? Stop." Toji, the baby can't understand you. He tries patting his back, or even better, just staring at him. Eventually Megumi stops crying when Toji gathers him up in his arms, bouncing him up and down a little too aggressively.

Dad Toji, who forgets kids are kids.

"Dad, I drew this picture of you." Five year old Megumi waddles up to his dad, handing him a colorful and sloppy drawing of a skinny structure of a man.

"Hm very cool bud. Does this really look like daddy though?" Toji scratches his head, looking at the very endearing drawing.

Megumi looks at his father with a deadpan glare, small fists balled up at his sides.

"Yes."

"Oh okay, little man."

Yikes, that kid is kinda scary.

Dad Toji, who genuinely loves Megumi and spending time with him. He's excited to watch his son grow into a young man and has a feeling he'll be much more helpful to him when he gets older. Girls, cheap marijuana, rebellion... yeah, that's much more up Toji's alley than singing the ABC's and speaking in a saccharine baby voice.

Dad Toji, who's not a perfect father, not even a good one but he is a father. And he's trying his best.

[tarjapearce]

Lips anon! AHHHH Baby Benji's first words 😭 😭 😭

That situation reminded me of a story my mother told me. Apparently when I was a baby, my uncle wasn't paying attention and put his tequila on my high chair, and I took a sip of it. I cried and pushed it off. She got really mad at him for that obviously lol

Pfftt, Gabriel pulling the same thing when he visits for the first time in forever.

I was given a beer when I was 5 😂. Just a sip though. Latino dads and uncles are terrible 😅.

OMG GABRIEL. Brief Tension undercut

Benjamin certainly adored his blocks, but adored even more when you gathered to play with him after lunch. It helped him to make his digestion better and sleep at ease. Gabriela was still in school.

Evening slowly transitioned into night and you were preparing dinner. Gabi had just finished her homework, Benji was on his little jumper, stretching his legs, and Miguel was setting up the table.

------

Dinner was lovely as usual, Miguel picked up after everyone as you cleaned Benjamin, his face a canvas painted with the smashed food. He adored when you'd mash potatos and carrots and minced tiny bits of chicken just for him. You then cleaned his chair and Gabi was ready to watch some TV with Miguel when the doorbell rang.

"The Neighbors maybe?" Miguel and you looked at eachother with confusing stares. Not that you weren't friendly among the neighborhood, you just simply stuck to yourselves, it was rare when someone knocked on your door past the 7 pm.

"I'll get it." Miguel rose on his feet and opened the door.

"Hey, Miggy." Gabriel's voice froze him in his spot. A little luggage bag next to him.

The coos and laugh of Benjamin snapped Gabriel's attention inside.

"May I come in?"

"... Sure." Miguel mumbled, still in his shock, he stepped aside and let him in.

Gabriel looked around, a typical domestic life that suited his brother all too well, despite him initially opposing to such things saying that his career was first.

"Guess you swallowed your words, huh Miggy?"

Miguel just stared at him with aprehension, he didn't know how to feel. It had been years since he saw Gabriel. 6 years to be exact. He had just left after a bad fight. And ever since then, their relationship had been strained.

"Is that-"

"Miguel? Who is it?"

Gabriel's eyes twinkled with amusement at your voice, then looked at little Benjamin that stared back at him to then look between Miguel and him. A bit confused.

Gabriel was shorter than Miguel, reaching his ears, his hair shorter and slicked back, a few strands poking out from the googles he wore ontop. Green eyes instead of maroon, a more joyful and amiable expression in his face, body less formidable than Miguel's.

"Can you come here for a sec, Mi amor?" Miguel spoke and Gabriel just chuckled at the endearing term. Gabriela poked her head out of the couch to look at them.

"Remember Gabriel?."

"Oh yes, of course. It's good to see you again. Hope everything is going well " You shook his hand with a smile. Miguel barely spoke about him, and if he did, it only showed that they still were at odds despite the amiable act the both put up. They were good at masking their feelings.

His hand was strong but still he was gentle.

"Un gusto verte de nuevo, cuñada" He spoke and you couldn't help but giggle. (Nice to see my sister in law again)

"Would you like something to drink?"

"Hm." He nodded but then his eyes stared at Benjamin, who went quiet upon Gabriel approaching.

"And whose this little handsome man?"

"Benjamin." Miguel spoke as he rubbed his face and held his waist. You served him a bit of Horchata. Benjamin just stared at him and cooed.

"Thanks. He looks like a mini you, but he definitely got (Name) 's eyes. Where is Gabi?"

"Gabi, cariño, come say hi to your uncle." Miguel held in her arms and Gabriel couldn't help but gasp.

"Gabi?! No way! Look at you, Pulguita! You have grown so much!" (Little one)

Gabi smiled nervously . She was only four years when Gabriel left. Gabriel and you barely interacted beyond pleasantries. He was always respectful when it came to you and kept his distance.

"Got you guys something. Wanna see?" You put Benjamin's spider pacifier on his mouth and Miguel took him out of his chair. Gabriela followed her uncle and you couldn't help to look at Miguel tensing. You had noticed that he was keeping his distance.

"Are you okay?"

Miguel nodded and sighed.

"Is he staying overnight so I can prepare his room?"

"I... I honestly don't know. I will do it anyways."

"Are you sure that you are OK?"

"Just feel a bit of headache coming." You'd rub his back softly he then joined Gabriel with Benji in his arms. You cleaned up.

Gabriel opened his luggage case and pulled out a little soccer t-shirt signed with some famous players.

"Para mi Pulguita" Gabriel smiled upon hearing Gabriela gasp and squeal in happiness. Miguel’s look softened. (For my little one)

"Look Papa!" Miguel nodded and smiled softly at her, she then ran to gush at you about the shirt.

"And since I wasn't sure how old mini you would be-"

"Benjamin."

"Right. Benjamin." He nodded, his freckled face scrunching up a bit, trying to suppress a chuckle.

"Since I wasn't sure how old little Benjamin would be, I got him some toys and this." He showed up Miguel a little green pacifier, a little goblin in a deeper shade of green imprinted on it.

"You can put liquids on it, designed it myself."

"Pretty ingenious." Miguel nodded, watching the little thing.

"And this is for you." He pulled out a small fancy box with a bottle in it. The label bright with the words "Amarás Logia, 25 años". twenty five year old brewed mezcal.

"Thanks." Gabriel sighed at his tone. Not that he blamed him though. Both brothers had said things that never should have left their mouths.

"You staying?"

"Nah. Just wanted to say hi. But... wouldn't mind a drink or two with you before I leave." He pulled another bottle, Don Julio's brand splattered on the tequila bottle. Miguel just chuckled.

"Just one."

"I know. You're a family man now and all that." Miguel put Benjamin on his chair again, Gabriela was taken to bed. Gabriel poured a couple of drops of tequila on his pacifier and approached Benjamin.

"Just a little tradition between O'Haras, little man." You and Miguel snapped the attention to Benjamin as he started crying after throwing away the pacifier.

"What's wrong?!"

"I just gave him a pacifier, nothing too bad."

You rushed to Benjamin and looked at the pacifier, a watery and all too familiar liquid oozed from it.

"You gave him tequila?!" You quickly pulled Benjamin out of his grasp and Miguel towered over him.

"He didn't drink! I promise! Just thought it was fun for him to smell it."

You rolled your eyes and took him away.

Miguel couldn't help but hit his head.

"¿Estás pendejo o qué?" (You stupid or what?)

Gabriel laughed at Miguel's hit.

"Relájate, cabrón. No bebió nada." (Calm down you dipshit. He didn't drink anything.)

"¿Te vas a quedar o no?" Gabriel chuckled and sighed. (You're staying or not?)

"We gotta talk anyways, and it's not precisely a short talk." Miguel just nodded and rubbed his face.

"You better apologize to (Name) in the morning."

"Ya sé, ya sé. Perdón." (I know, I know. Sorry)

Miguel prepared the guest room, as Gabriel poured two shots of tequila.

Alcohol would be needed, he couldn't be sober when all the pain would be out.

[batterygarden]

armin & his crybaby gf

sfw but no minors on my page pls

cw: college au, condescending and toxic bf armin (in a hot way!), ft. creepy bully eren, armin pushes reader's hair from her face once, reader is slut shamed for wearing a skirt, & fic spoilers: implied nude sharing w eren which reader did not consent to, about 1.2 k words, thank u for helping me my love, @deliriovs

Armin loves the heavy weight of your head on his chest after you’ve had a hard day. He loves how his shirt gets damp with your tears and snot ‘cause you're incapable of self soothing—how you always need him to put you back together at the littlest inconvenience. But today he’s busy—he’s got his first medical licensing exam to study for and it’s annoying when you burst into his room crying. He’s mentally kicking himself the second he sees you in his peripheral; he should have set aside more free time today in case you needed him for something. It was stupid to assume you could make it through one night without him there to comfort you through whatever bothered you today. 

“‘Min.”  You whine after shutting his door behind you, finally unleashing a pent up sob now that you’re alone together. You freeze when you see his exhausted stare though, paired with a pile of papers and textbooks next to his laptop that he’d clearly been pouring over.  

He slowly slides back his headphones and scrubs his palms in his eyes when he turns his chair to face you, sighing under his breath before opening his arms, motioning for you to come sit on his lap.

Of course you don’t hesitate, breathing out a shaky sigh of relief when you sit sideways over his legs, burying your face in his shoulder and curling your fingers around the neck of his sweater, trying not to choke on your own breath when another wave of tears takes over.

Armin thinks you’re a little pathetic sometimes—and it’s endearing, but today he’s overwhelmed. You’re just so needy. Still, he rubs his hands over your back gently, feeling your shuddered breaths begin to slow.

“Baby are you okay?” His sweet tone doesn’t meet his bored expression—not that you can see with your face buried like it is.

You nuzzle into him further, wishing you could dig a hole in his flesh and bury yourself inside—where it’s safe and warm and comforting. 

You hum no with a shake of your head, trying one more deep, steadying breath before turning just enough to say,  

“Today was terrible. You remember that guy who sits by me in sociology, Eren? We were talking and he started acting really creepy…”

Armin’s shoulders tense subtly and you peek to see him looking at the ceiling with a drained expression—the kind of face you think he’d make if you told him you spilled coffee in his backpack. You can read his mind before he has the chance to speak, so you scramble to cover for yourself,

“Wait, ‘Min, he talked to me first—please don’t be mad.”

“M’not mad. I’m disappointed you didn’t listen to me.”

Your heart starts to beat fast again when you hear the subtle change in his tone.

“Well, let me finish—”

“I told you not to talk to him. And now you’re coming in here crying cause you don’t know how to follow simple instructions. Almost sounds like I should let you handle whatever he did yourself.���

His hand doesn’t stop its careful circuit around your spine while he talks, and his tone isn’t especially scary—his words only come with an air of patience that reminds you of how your  parents used to talk to you when you were a child. Like you’re a loved one throwing a tantrum. It’s demeaning and a bit harsh in your opinion—he’s being unfair. But when you turn your head to argue and show off your hurt expression, his eyes look kind and then he’s pushing hair out of your face with a touch so gentle it’s cruel. 

Any defiance washes away then… ugh you’re exhausted. 

“You’re right, I’m… so-sorry,” you say in a fragile voice, trying to breathe evenly so you don’t disappoint him. Armin always knows best—he was just looking out for you and now you’re being annoying. The thought brings fresh wetness to your eyes, another stifled sob to your throat. 

Then you’re releasing his shirt to instead hook your arms behind his back, squeezing yourself into him like you can hide this way. You can’t see the resulting roll of his eyes, but you feel him wrap his other arm around you, pressing his cheek down into your neck and rocking you slightly.

His voice is feather-soft when he says, “Y’know I just want what’s best for you.” You notice it’s not a question but a statement. You nod, nuzzling your face further into his soft sweater, breathing in the comforting floral scent of his laundry detergent. 

He sighs, finding your reactions to things absurd. My sensitive little baby. He hugs you a little tighter then and whispers, “So what’d he do?”

You wipe your eyes on his collar before mumbling a broken, barely coherent story into his neck. You detail how it made you feel when Eren wouldn’t get out of your personal space earlier, how mad you were when he called your favorite skirt slutty. He was being so mean even though you were going out of your way to help him with the homework!

Armin listens respectfully to the whole thing, nodding along and murmuring little mhm’s when necessary. 

But when you finish talking and finally pull away to look at him, he’s staring past you at the wall with this cold, calculating face that sort of scares you—the kind of expression that emphasizes the lavender of his under eyes, reasserting how tired he must be right now. 

When he doesn’t immediately say anything, you reach a shaky hand up to trace his dark circles, and his gaze finally flicks down to you again. He smiles a little. 

“I mean he has a point about the skirt doesn’t he?”   

His words pour gasoline on cooled ashes; you only huff and drop your head to his shoulder again. 

“I guess, maybe.” 

You play with the fabric of his button up that peaks beneath his sweater. Then you’re yawning and Armin chuckles light and sweet under his breath, ducking down to kiss your brow.

“There it is. You were just upset ‘cause you were tired, huh sleepyhead?” 

Like a spell, suddenly you notice your eyelids do feel pretty heavy. 

“Maybe.” 

“Will you sleep now, my good listener? Let me get some more work done? Stop worrying about nobodies like Eren?” 

You shut your eyes and nod, and then Armin’s sliding his headphones back into place, rocking you in his chair for a bit before carefully laying you on his bed.

Then he’s quick to pull out his phone, finding Eren’s contact and sending a text faster than the speed of light. 

you’re weird as hell ren, why’d you have to scare her like that today?

LMAO she talked about me? 

not sharing pics anymore if you do it again. fucking idiotic

i'm trying to talk to more armin fuckers.. pls hml 😏

[vqnrouged]

Cater X reader who doesn't have social media?

Reader doesn't know anything about news or related to that, so he's like

"have you seen this about ___?" "Who?" "That famous guy" "am I supposed to know who he is?" JUST AN EXAMPLE LMAO

𝐂𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐃𝐈𝐀𝐌𝐎𝐍𝐃 𝐃𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐀𝐍 𝐒/𝐎 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐇𝐀𝐒 𝐍𝐎 𝐒𝐎𝐂𝐈𝐀𝐋 𝐌𝐄𝐃𝐈𝐀 ── ᡣ𐭩

↳ 661 words

↳ romantic . ݁₊ ⊹ .

↳ content | how cater interacts with an s/o who has no social media!

↳ HII STAR!! this is a perfect request for cater omg. anyways, enjoy!

♱ ˖° one of the very first questions that cater asked you upon your meeting was what your magicam handle was, you were already charming him so of course he had to get to know you. however, your only response was “what’s magicam?” the poor heartslabyul student nearly had whiplash from how fast he turned his head to look at you, his face was completely engulfed with shock. never in his life had he met someone with no social media, for him it was practically his life force, a way to express himself and show off all of his fun adventures at night raven. so just hearing that was an utter surprise, but he quickly bounced back and offered to exchange numbers instead. he wasn’t going to ditch his chance to get to know you, whether you had social media or not wasn’t going to be enough to drive cay cay away.

♱ ˖° and lucky for him, this lead to him forming a very loving relationship with you. your dynamic was odd to some others, considering how important social media was to your boyfriend and your lack of it made them very confused. but this worked out well for the both of you, now cater had the perfect person to gossip to and you had one of the sweetest guys in school as your boyfriend. his friendly attitude also translated well into your gossip sessions after school, but they were dates more than anything. specially for these dates, cater would convince trey to make a small plate of pastries because he knew you liked them and he himself would prepare a pot of tea to go along with. you need tea to spill it, right? either way, these gossiping dates become the highlights of your week as well as his own. he feel like he can be truly honest with his opinions as he recounts all these stories and news he reads, he can just be cater with you.

♱ ˖° he will always ask if you want to take selfies with him, and if you say no he completely respects it. but if you don’t mind your photo being taken, he is constantly snapping them throughout the day so he can post them on his magicam. you’re in potionology? you look so cute, let me snap a pic! you’re sitting at lunch together? honey, you’re adorable. let me take a photo of that pretty smile! he posts photos of you together or of just you all the time, his followers are never without an update about what the two of you are doing or where you’re going.

♱ ˖° cater is always keeping up with the trends, no matter what he is always aware of what’s popular at the time. which also leads to him catching up on the latest news, he is almost never in the unknown when it comes to celeb break ups, divorces, or affairs. at this point, cater is a walking news article when he comes to you with new information. he is very expressive about it too, he acts like it’s the end of of the world. but, you find it quite endearing that you’re the first one who gets to hear about whatever news he just found out about. he also isn’t afraid to back track a bit if you don’t understand or remember something he told you, he truly appreciates that you try to listen to every word he says. he knows he can talk a lot, and can be rather annoying at times, but he’s just happy you’re there.

“hon, have you heard the news about neige? it’s seriously so terrible…”

“who?”

“neige, neige leblanche. y’know, the celeb i raved to you about yesterday?”

“oh, that guy? i thought he just got broken up with?”

“no, cutie. you got your celebs mixed up, but it’s okay! cay cay can explain it again, if you’d like!”

“i’d be happy to listen, cater.”

@𝐯𝐪𝐧𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐞𝐝 ♱

[bbydeathclaw]

Petulance

pairing: silco x fem!reader (nsfw)

AO3

summary: Silco sends you away to try to get some work done and you decide to be a horrendous little shit about it.

tags: fluff, smut, established relationship, fingering, oral sex (f!receiving), good ol' mating press, teasing, bratty reader, simp silco

word count: 5.4k

adorably aesthetic mdni banner by @cafekitsune

a/n: hello! this is my first time writing in a looong while almost 10 years to be exact please don't look at me. but I had to get back into it with this shamelessly self indulgent fic of my favorite brooding king pin. I hope you enjoy!

Silco had thought it a bit odd at first, the ease with which you’d taken your leave from his office tonight. Ordinarily when he’d attempt to send you away in favor of getting his paperwork done in a more timely manner, you’d put up some form of sulky little protest.

An overemphasized pout coupled with a look of feigned sadness, eyebrows furrowed together when you’d offer to assist him with said work. Your reason being that it would ‘probably get done faster’ between the two of you. 

A lie, and a blatant one at that. You were, on all counts, absolutely shit at keeping your focus on any tasks he’d try to give you. You knew it. He most certainly knew it. Truly he’d wonder why you’d even bother offering at all if you just spent most of the time trying to distract him anyway. 

Still, he can’t say he isn’t amused by your actions. He finds these juvenile acts of yours terribly endearing for the most part, and even starts to look forward to them, knowing full well that he'll give in to just about anything if you’d simply ask it of him. 

Which is why he can’t help but feel somewhat disappointed when you don’t do any of this at all, and Silco starts to regret his idiotic suggestion entirely until you throw a cheeky smirk his way instead. 

“Alright, I think I’ll go bug Sevika for a bit.”

A single eyebrow quirk, followed by a low hum of approval. 

“I’m sure she’ll be positively thrilled by that,” he replies, suppressing a smirk of his own at the thought of his second in command being pestered by someone almost half her size. 

He’s still disheartened by your willingness to leave, but ultimately makes peace with it knowing that you’d more than likely return at some point. You give him a small wave with your fingers followed by a wink over your shoulder, and Silco doesn't hesitate to drag his gaze over your body shamelessly as it saunters out of his office.

About an hour passes, and the music coming from downstairs is just starting to pick up for the evening. You enter the room with a fluid sidestep, leaning back against the door once it closes behind you. His good brow raises slightly. “Back so soon?”

You don’t answer at first, instead making your way over to one of the tables in his office, like a cat quietly stalking about until something catches its interest. He watches you methodically as you settle for one of Jinx’s old trinkets that had been long discarded, carefully turning it over in your hand. “Sevika called me a menace.”

This time he makes no attempt to hide the subtle upturn from the corner of his lips. “I’m afraid I’m inclined to agree with her, my dear.”

“She seems pretty cranky tonight.” 

“Hm, surely through absolutely no fault of your own.”

You bite the inside of your cheek in what he can only assume is an attempt to stifle a giggle before turning to face him with an adorably giddy expression that makes his chest tighten. 

“Whatcha doin’?” 

So innocent, as if you were completely unaware of the effect you had on him. Silco doesn’t answer you verbally, merely bringing his forehead to rest against his hand and lifting the piece of paper he’s holding in the air with the other. The sullen face you make doesn’t go unnoticed by him as you turn to put the gadget back down with an airy sigh.

“Well,” you drag the word out. “I guess I’d better let you get back to it.”  

“Yes, that would be nice,” he says in turn, though it comes off more teasing rather than the displeasure he’s trying to convey. 

You study his face for another beat or two before you finally respond. “Okay, if that’s really what you want.” It’s not. Not even in the slightest. “I’ll go see if Thieram needs any help at the bar.”

“My love, Theiram is more than capable of handling his responsibilities as a bartender alone. It’s why I hired him, in fact.” He pauses. “Have you perhaps considered staying up here and behaving yourself, rather than looking for more ways to wreak havoc amongst my employees?” 

For a moment Silco thinks that he may be tipping his hand too soon, fearing that you’ve caught on to the fact that he’s basically been doing fuck all except sitting here and waiting for you to come back to his office. His suspicion only rises with the way you’re tilting your head and downright beaming at him with ill-disguised glee, like you’d been reading his every thought. 

“If I stayed up here it certainly wouldn’t be to behave myself.”

The paper he’s holding makes an audible crunch sound, his hand crumpling the edge of it faintly in response to your suggestive remark. 

Before he has the chance to reply with some snarky comment, you’re already heading towards the door, making a show of swaying your hips and giving him another view of the delicious swell of your backside before you take your leave again. His chair makes an audible groan as he leans back against it and lets out a lengthy sigh, running a hand through his hair and glancing down into his lap at the result of your seemingly endless torment.

Intolerable minx.

By the third time you make your way back up, only about half an hour has passed, and Silco’s all but given up on the prospects of getting any semblance of work done tonight. His thoughts being entirely permeated by you and the state you’d left him in. 

The Last Drop is in full swing now, and the liveliness of everything going on downstairs comes through the open door as you re-enter his office. However this time, he makes no effort to acknowledge your arrival, his chair now facing away from his desk, turned instead towards the large stained glass window that bathes him in a sickly, pale green light. All the noise from the club gets muffled when the door shuts once again, followed by the sound of purposeful footsteps making their way over to him.

“Welcome back,” he states flatly, trying to sound as disinterested as he can manage in his current predicament while he looks over his clipboard in a vain attempt at trying to salvage what was supposed to be a productive evening.

“Hello there, almighty Eye of Zaun,” you chime back with a playful lilt in your voice. “Did you miss me?”

Silco’s eyes tick upwards and stare blankly at the window straight ahead, actively suppressing the urge to let out another heavy sigh. You were going to be the death of him at this rate, there was absolutely no doubt in his mind. How you managed to be both so insufferable and still so unbelievably charming he’ll never quite understand. Before he has the chance to turn his chair with an already fixed scowl, he hears a faint thud behind him, the distinct sound of glass meeting wood only slightly muted by a soft shuffling of papers. 

A few seconds pass before Silco finally spins around to face you, seeing that a tumbler has been set down right on top of the paperwork he had been ruminating over all night. He’s also greeted by the sight of you already sitting in a chair directly in front of his desk, grinning from ear to ear. His heart swells at the sight and his scowl gradually melts away, only to be replaced by something more along the lines of skepticism when he takes in your expression fully. 

Your smile is accompanied by what appears to be a look of pure satisfaction, though he has no clue as to why. His non-discolored eye narrows at you, like a parent trying to figure out what misdeed their child has committed behind their back. 

Silco regards you warily for another moment, taking in every minute detail of your face in hopes of detecting something that might give you away while he reaches for the glass set in front of him. Ice clinks against the sides as he swirls it around before bringing it to his lips, taking a long sip followed by a hum of appreciation. His eyes shoot back up to meet yours, and finds you now biting your lip while trying, and failing, to suppress a huge grin. 

You’re definitely up to something, that much he’s certain of now, and the fact that he still can’t figure out what it is causes his previously feigned discontent to turn into more of a bubbling frustration, having just about enough of whatever game you’re playing. A fleeting thought crosses his mind as he glances down at the drink now dangling from his fingertips, then back up to you. 

Silco knows you’ve taken in the brief look of suspicion on his face when you let out a laugh that, despite the visible displeasure he's exuding towards you, is still one of the sweetest sounds he's ever heard.

“I didn’t poison you, if that’s what you’re wondering,” you quip, clearly amused at the implication.

“At this point I would be grateful if you did.”

You laugh again, but it comes out more like a short exhale through your nose along with a relaxed grin, taking a sip of your own beverage, and Silco’s good eye narrows at you once again. 

“Are you drunk?”

“What? No.”

Silence.

“Then what did you do?”

“I didn’t do anything.”

He practically glares at you for what feels like a considerable amount of time before it finally dawns on him that you haven’t left yet. 

“Did you need something darling? Or have you just come to find more ways to elicit whatever reaction you’ve been hoping for this evening?” Silco brings the tumbler to his mouth once more, letting it hover there momentarily in order to get the rest of his words out. “Because if the intended reaction was to see how far you can test my patience I can assure you-” 

Words die on his lips immediately when you make a move to stand, mismatched eyes shooting down to your waist to see what appears to be quite possibly the shortest skirt he’s ever seen you in, leaving so very little to the imagination.

He’s still holding the glass right up to his face while he watches you make your way around the only obstacle that separates the two of you before hopping onto one of the corners, your butt and thighs jiggling faintly when they make contact with the solid piece of furniture. “I just figured you could use a drink after such a long night of hard work. Is that so wrong?”

Silco tracks your movements with an almost predatory fixation, watching you lean back slightly to rest against your arms, crossing one leg over the other and he has to actively resist the urge to scoff. This thing is hardly covering anything, you’re essentially sitting there with your bare ass on his desk. The realization of that along with the sight of everything you’re showing has his cock hardening at an alarming rate.

You don’t seem to notice, or if you do you don’t say anything, eyebrows knitting together in a poorly disguised attempt at looking genuinely worried. “What’s wrong? You don’t look very happy to see me.” 

Silco sets the glass down onto his desk with a bit more force than intended, turning his chair to face all the way forward and bringing his mouth to rest against interlocked fingers. Any moment now he’s expecting you to hop right off that corner and make your way back downstairs, back to a place filled with depraved and perverted onlookers. 

Realistically he knows no harm would ever befall you while you were down in the Last Drop. All of his subordinates had been given clear instruction to keep a watchful eye on you at all times, and after a while a lot of them had started to do it less out of obligation and more so out of genuine care, especially Jinx and Sevika. 

Plus, he knows you can hold your own in a fight. Growing up in the undercity had hardened you just enough to make you a scrappy but formidable opponent. So logically speaking, Silco knows there's no safer place for you to be, but the thought of anyone other than himself seeing you in that, especially the less than respectable patrons that frequent his establishment nearly every night, makes his blood boil.

“Of course I'm happy to see you, my dear,” he retorts, turning his head to look over at you once more, eyes darting downwards to that indecent piece of fabric wrapped around your waist then back up to meet your gaze. “It's just that I'm seeing quite a lot of you at the moment, and if you go back downstairs, so will everyone else.” His last words come out strained as he shifts in his chair in a poor attempt to alleviate his growing erection.

“Oh, you mean my skirt? Is there…something wrong with it?” You lift your hips to take the tiniest of scoots towards him, and Silco’s eyes immediately hone in on the action. 

“Don’t be cheeky.”

Another scoot. “I’m afraid that can’t be helped, especially in this.”

At this point he wouldn’t be surprised if you really are trying to kill him, taking controlled and steady breaths while he attempts to suppress his growing ire in response to such a ridiculous question. Of course there’s something wrong with it. Silco’s sure he’d nearly be able to see the soft outline of your mound if you were to spread your legs, even in the slightest.

He lets out another deep breath before picking up his pen and casually scribbling his signature on one of the invoices strewn about in front of him. “You will not be going back down there like that.”

He’s not looking at you, but Silco can see the movements of you moving closer out of the corner of his unmarred eye.

“Are you..asking me to stay?” 

He doesn’t respond, instead electing to take another piece of paper to scrawl his name at the bottom offhandedly. He knows what you’re playing at, the fact that it took him so long to realize it irks him to no end. He wouldn’t mind answering honestly and just telling you that yes, he does want you to stay, but the thought of giving into your bratty little antics this evening doesn’t sit quite right with him. 

Which is why he makes the conscious decision to ignore you as you move close enough to where your upper leg is now narrowly brushing his elbow, the shift causing him to mess up the tail end of another signature. Silco chances a glance towards the movement and regrets it almost immediately when he takes in the soft curve of your thigh, his cock twitching painfully at the sight.

He makes his second mistake when he follows the tantalizing trail of your body upwards and is met with the most unabashed, shit eating grin plastered across your face. He has to force himself to look away, the hand not holding his pen coming up to drag his long fingers back and forth across his mouth as he contemplates the idea of sending you away all together, leaving you pouty and disappointed. And for a moment he comes close to doing just that, until he makes the grave error of risking a glance up at your face again.

You’re not smiling anymore, expression replaced by something far more lustful and serious. Silco simply stares as your tongue slides out to pull your bottom lip in between your teeth before gently nudging his elbow with your knee. He doesn’t hesitate in dropping his arm to offer you the space in front of him, and you slide over gracefully. He stays perfectly still while you plant a foot atop each of the armrests of his ornate chair, knees pressed tightly together.

He finally responds to your earlier question with one of his own. 

“What would possibly give you that idea?” His voice is light and teasing, all traces of anger gone. “You’ve been nothing short of a nightmare all evening, love. And now this?” Fingertips come up to stroke the side of your calf, humming appreciatively.  “What am I going to do with you?”

This earns Silco a wide, toothy grin as you scoot forward. “Whatever do you mean? I’m just sitting here.”

“Don't be coy with me, sweetheart.” He leans forward, breath fanning over your knees as he speaks. “Be a good girl and tell me what you want.”

“I want you,” knees parting just barely, “to answer my question.”

Silco pushes his tongue against his cheek in minor annoyance before sliding both hands up your legs and over your knees, then back down until he reaches your hips. He grips firmly at the supple flesh and yanks you closer towards him, eliciting a sharp squeak followed by a string of giggles.

“I think you might be the most aggravating creature I’ve ever had the displeasure of courting.”

Your face adorns a look of mock appreciation. “Awe, thank you!”

Slender hands travel back up to your knees. “Truly just a tantalizing little menace.” He waits for you to part them further, granting him the access he’s so desperately craving. “One that I’m both drawn to and irritated by all at once.”

Your smile is nothing short of haughty, as if you’re truly taking everything he’s telling you as a compliment. “Well now you’ve really got me hot and bothered,” you shoot back, knees moving further away from each other until you’re spread all the way open for him.

Although spoken in a sarcastic tone, Silco sees that your words are in fact true, his eyes taking in the sight of your already dripping cunt.

“Indulge me, sweetheart,” he says, one hand coming up to trace the backs of your thighs with his knuckles, causing goosebumps to decorate your soft skin. “Why the need to be so difficult tonight?” 

You shiver at the touch, bottom lip still tucked between your teeth as he brings a thumb up to stroke lazily over your pussy. 

“J-just for fun,” you retort, but your voice doesn’t hold the same conviction. “Wanted to see..how long it would take.”

“How long what would take?”

The laugh you let out is shaky at best, but there’s still a bit of confidence left when you answer. “For you to ask me to stay.”

It only takes about half a second before Silco’s thumb pushes into your core and his tongue cards a long, hot stripe along your folds. The noise you make spurring him on further as his mouth envelopes your clit, giving it a harsh suck before pulling away with a satisfying wet plop sound.

“I don’t recall asking anything of the sort,” he chides, sliding his thumb back out. “If memory serves me correctly, you came into my office several times practically demanding my attention.”

Silco punctuates his last few words by pushing two fingers into you, pulling another sharp inhale from your lips as he turns his palm to face upward and curls them inside of you.

“Has it ever occurred to you,” he starts, bringing his thumb to circle against your now swollen clit, drawing a long whine out of you as you work your hips against him. “..that perhaps I attempt to send you away in order to finish with my tasks quickly, just so I can get back to doting on you with said attention? Selfish little creature.”

Your eyebrows pinch together, speaking between shallow breaths. “You.. could have just.. said that.. you know.”

Silco smirks, watching you look back at him with a pair of pleading eyes. “And deny myself the pleasure of seeing your lovely pouts and open displays of petulance?” He adds a third finger. “I think not.” 

“Silco,” you whine, “please.”

His cock twitches in response, and he doesn’t waste any time bringing his mouth back down to your bud and swirling his tongue around it lavishly while his fingers twist and turn inside of you. He watches you throw your head back, one of your hands snaking upwards to grip the edge of the desk above your head, the other coming to latch onto the top of his head hard as you roll your hips against him. 

“There, that’s it,” he coos, “show me how eager you are. Use me.” 

This draws another string of small gasps and moans from you, coupled with lewd, wet, slurping sounds as Silco continues to lap and suck at your clit, bringing his free hand to grip your thigh and anchor you to him. The strain in his pants grows increasingly more painful when you sigh his name affectionately, followed by a noise of protest when he removes his fingers from you all together in an effort to tug at intricate buttons of his trousers, freeing his aching cock and palming himself to the sight of your ruined state. 

Your arousal coating his fingers serves as a welcome lubricant for him to stroke himself languidly, relishing in the feeling of you bucking up into him, using him to chase your own end. His licks are hot and thorough, leaving no part of your heat untouched.

“Yes,” Silco groans into you, “just like that.”  

Your other hand comes down to unbutton your top, cupping and squeezing at one of your breasts, and he knows you’re close by the way you’re begging and pleading above him. The sound of your voice feeds into his determination, letting go of his cock in order to wrap both arms around your thighs, securing you in place and devouring you like a starved man.

The way you cry out his name while your walls flutter around his tongue has him reeling, mismatched eyes boring into you, watching your orgasm in complete reverence as your fluids run down his chin.

“Good girl,” Silco sighs, his movements slowing down to let you ride out your climax. “You always make such sweet sounds for me.” 

Your legs tremble and the vicelike grasp you have on his hair loosens before you slump back down onto his desk, words barely managing to come through your short and labored breaths.

“Could've been making them a lot earlier if you’d…stop trying to kick me out.”

A hint of a smile creeps up on his face as he presses small, feather light kisses up the backs of your thighs, leaving glistening spots of your slick behind in their wake. “You know, it is possible to keep your unsolicited remarks to yourself every once in a while.”

Yours breaks into a devious grin that tugs at his heart without mercy. “Yeah, but where’s the fun in that?” 

“Mmm, point taken.” 

Silco stands to turn your body so that you’re taking up the full length of his desk before climbing up onto it and bracing himself with a hand on either side of your head. His length bobs thick and heavy with need, bringing it to rest against your slit.

“Do you have any idea what you do to me?”

You roll your hips against him needily, coating his cock with your arousal. “Maybe.”

“You drive me absolutely mad,” he growls, voice dripping with carnal hunger as he pushes your legs up against your chest once again, lining himself up with your entrance. And it’s the way you're looking up at him with your lip tucked in between your teeth in anticipation, the slight inward curl of your eyebrows in an almost pleading expression that has him pushing into you in one, smooth buck forward, making you gasp as he bottoms out inside of you.

Silco sees your eyes roll back, and he has to physically stop himself from doing the same. He wants to see it all, wants to see your blissed out expression while he fucks you, wants to see all the different ways he can make you come undone beneath him.

You make a pitiful attempt at stifling a moan, one that ultimately fails when Silco starts to rock his hips against yours, pulling them back slowly and savoring the feeling of his cock dragging along your walls before driving them forward with a sharp, pointed thrust. But he’s right there with you, exhaling a throaty groan at the feeling of your walls engulfing him so deliciously, the sensation being nothing short of divine.

“Look at you, taking me so well,” he whispers, lowering his head and tilting it to place gentle kisses along your jawline before nipping at your earlobe. “Like we were made for each other.”

The breathy whine this elicits causes him to straighten himself upright again, picking up his pace steadily, and soon the room is filled with the obscene, wet smacking of skin against skin as Silco begins to pump into you with feral-like need. He readjusts your legs so that your calves are hooked over his shoulders, letting him fuck you so much deeper. 

You’re a mess of broken pleas beneath him, and he clings to every single one, a symphony meant solely for him and him alone. Silco watches you with wholly, unabashed devotion as your face twists and contorts in pleasure, pleasure that only he can bring you. And though he wants to feel like he’s still in control, he knows deep down he’s equally ruined by what you do to him, maybe even more so. His seafoam eye glazes over, and strands of hair fall loosely around his face as he ruts into you. 

You reach up and try to put your arms around his neck, but the position your legs are in only allow you to claw at his shoulders helplessly. “S-silco, please..”

“Oh? I see someone’s finally learned some manners,” he taunts.

The huff of annoyance you let out amuses him more than he’d care to admit, “For fuck’s sake, Sil. Let me hold you.”

“Demanding thing,” he scolds, but gives into your ‘request’ regardless, lowering your legs just enough so that your knees fall to the side and hook over his forearms, letting you wrap your arms around his neck with open urgency. And now you’re pulling him down and holding him there, like the waters he'd nearly drowned in.

Silco’s jaw goes slack as he turns his head and pants in your ear like some wild beast, whose sole purpose is to bring you to your end. Like it was all he was ever made for. Your head turns to meet his lips with your own, and he tries to keep some semblance of restraint while he kisses you, but he can’t, not with you. It’s hungry and sloppy, full of exceeding desperation. 

He breaks the kiss reluctantly to make his way down to your neck, lips and tongue moving against the delicate flesh and littering your throat with marks of all kinds, leaving no room for anyone to question who you belong to. “Mine,” Silco snarls possessively in between sucks and bites.

He's about to pull away when one of your hands slides up to the nape of his neck, tangling your fingers in his hair and locking him in place, begging for more, more, more, and Silco’s more than happy to oblige. You’ve got him wrapped around your finger so tightly, and this realization both excites and ruins him as he begins to ram everything he has into you with new purpose.

“Oh fuck, Silco. Right there,” you cry out, voice becoming raspy and hoarse from your continuous gasps in between moans. 

"Yes, that's it. Show me how much you want this, how much you need this," he huffs out through gritted teeth, trying to establish some form of dominance once again, but it's no use when he realizes his words are just as applicable to him as they are to you.

He forgoes his hold on your legs, letting them fall to your sides briefly before wrapping them around his waist. Your eyes flutter shut and your head starts to loll to the side, but Silco grabs your jaw quickly and forces you to look directly at him.

“None of that, darling. I want you to look at me when you come undone,”  His breath comes out ragged and primal. “You want to be a good girl for me, don’t you?”

You nod frantically in response, eyes drifting downward to stare at his mouth, like a silent plea. He takes the hint without delay, squishing your cheeks together until your lips form a small pout before leaning down to kiss you fervently. His tongue swirls around yours, hot and wanting, before he pulls away just enough for him to pant into your open mouth, his connecting to yours by the thinnest string of saliva. 

Silco can sense your second orgasm approaching rapidly, and he brings his fingers towards your lips. You take the hint right away, wrapping them around his digits and sucking on them lavishly. Once he’s satisfied enough, he removes them and snakes his hand down through your intertwined bodies, settling for the bundle of nerves located between your legs.

Your moans increase in pitch, arms and legs squeezing even tighter around him as he works you with skilled flicks of his wrist.

“You’ve endured this so well, my love,” he whispers against your ear, voice laced with unrestrained hedonism and resolve. “Let’s reward all that effort of yours tonight, shall we?”

His question is rhetorical, but you nod so eagerly for him nonetheless as your walls begin to pulsate, clenching so unbelievably tight around him you’re practically pushing his cock out, nearly sending him over the edge himself.  

“That’s my girl,” he sighs with heavy grit and worship. “You feel incredible.”  

Silco’s face comes back up to hover over yours, looking directly into your eyes while he fucks you through your climax, his own looming closer and closer. He leans down to kiss you, swallowing your labored breaths greedily as his thrusts begin to stagger before coming to a complete halt, his pelvis flush against yours as his cock twitches obscenely within your heat. He lets out a harsh, guttural moan right into your mouth as he spills into you, your walls continuing to milk him with stuttered squeezes, and he has to pull away sharply to exhale a series of delirious gasps. 

Your chests heave against one another, waves of pleasure slowly dissipating as your sweat soaked bodies stay interlocked. Silco shifts slightly, bringing his hands to stroke the top of your head lazily with his fingertips. His forehead comes to rest against yours as he places soft, tender kisses along your cheeks, your eyes, your lips, anything within reach.

He’s rewarded with a giggle, followed by a dopey little grin.

“You know,” you say as your breaths finally return to normal. “I just remembered the other reason you try to send me away while you work.”

Silco already knows the answer, but you punctuate your words anyway by wiggling your ass, causing the sound of his paperwork shuffling beneath you, followed by a light yelp as he smacks your bottom lightly. 

“Impossible little wench,” he chastises, lifting himself off of you and being greeted once again by the sight of the thing you keep referring to as a ‘skirt’. He grabs the edge of it with his fingertips, holding it up like it was a cursed object. “Where in Janna’s name did you even get this from?”

You bark out a laugh before propping yourself up hastily to look down at it with pride. “Ran let me borrow it.”

“Excuse me?”

“What?”

“Borrow it,” he repeats, “as in you have every intention of giving it back to them?”

You stare at him for a moment, no doubt mulling over your answer.

“...No?”

Silco smirks at your response before leaning in. “Good girl. Besides, I think we may find many more uses for it still.”

Your eyes widen with child-like wonder, but for the entirely wrong reason. “Oh, so you’ll wear it for me, too?”

He stares back at you blankly, blinking several times before rolling his eyes almost theatrically, earning him another small fit of laughter as he finally graces you with a response.

“Whatever pleases you, I suppose.” 

[underqualified-human]

2012! Donnie: Secret relationship revealed

→ Request: Hi! I love your tmnt posts and was wondering if you could write a one shot (no 1st pov pls) of 2012!donnie x (fem) reader in a secret relationship but getting caught kissing/(or making out) XD I think the gangs reaction would be priceless!!!!

→ A/N: It’s been quite a while since I last watched the show, so some of it may be a little bit OOC

→ Warnings: Super indulgent because I was super sick and I hated it, no beta, nothing else I believe

→ Fandom: Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles

→ Genre: Oneshot

→ Word Count: 473

→ Pronouns: She/ Her [though most of my 2nd person writing pieces tend to lean more ]

You tapped your pencil against the blank answer sheet, subconsciously rubbing your runny nose on your sleeve. 

Your headache wasn't intense enough to call 'splitting' but it was bad enough to be a distraction. While you were out sick the maths teacher had covered new material while you were out, and you understood none of it.

You sniffed and reached for your glass of water, your throat was dry and itchy but almost nothing you drank helped in the long run. You rubbed your eyes and tried to turn your attention back to your work, but it was a lost cause.

You laid your head down on your desk, using your arms as a pillow.

The window opened while you were cradling your aching head. You sniffed again, which instantly caught Donnie’s attention. “What’s wrong? Did someone say something to you? Are you hurt?”

You cut off his concerned questioning with a sneeze, which made him calm down the smallest bit.

“You look terrible,” he noted. You shot him a half-hearted glare while taking a large gulp of water. “Not like that. I just- I mean you look really sick.” You would have laughed if it didn’t mean feeling nails scratching the inside of your throat. 

He was always like this, shy and a little jittery, even though you’ve been together for a few months. It’s endearing, in Donnie’s own way,

He glanced at the clock in your room, and then back at your tired figure. “Shouldn’t you already be sleeping?” 

You let out a small groan, “I guess…”

“How long have you been working?” He asked, stepping closer to your desk.

“Not that long-” you slurred and took another sip of water “-since seven I think.”

Judging by Donnie’s face, it was quite a bit past seven already. 

“You really need some sleep-”

“I know.” You snapped, then let out a sigh, noticing his hurt expression. "I know,” you repeated, softer this time, “It’s just - this homework needs to be finished for tomorrow and-"

"Tomorrow's Saturday."

"...Oh." You both let out a small chuckle and you immediately reached for your water.

Laying down on your bed, you stared up at the ceiling and let out a sigh. “I’m sorry we couldn’t do anything tonight, D.”

“It’s fine,” he responds quickly, “It’s not like you chose to get sick.” 

“See you next week?”

He gave you a quick nod before jumping out of your window and onto the roof, only to be met with all three of his brothers waiting for him.

Leo stood front and centre, his arms crossed over his plastron. “Care to explain?”

“Um, well you see, the thing is- smoke bomb!” The egg landed at their feet, exploding into a cloud of black and purple fog.

“Donnie!”

“So not cool, dude.”

“He is getting pummeled when we get home.”

Tagging: @urfavarab[requester]

[comfortless]

HEYYYY I came from the art class post😭😭 if im bothering you or you’ve got other works then delete this one, but omg him painting reader NUDE!?!? 😩😩😩

you are not a bother omg!! my ask box is always open forever (especially in regards to König being a menace)!! 💕

Unfortunately for König, you were actually insinuating that you would like to paint HIM nude…

So, when he does arrive at your home, backpack stuffed with a canvas and his own set of brushes in tow, you’re already seated with your easel stood before you. The chaise lounge across from your workspace is covered by a darkened throw, the color a stark contrast from his pale skin and even paler eyes, something that would help set the tone and make him appear more radiant.

He stares at you when his bag is dropped to the floor, mortified for a moment before you see the hint of a grin curling at his lips.

“You said you wanted to try.” You tap your brush against the bare canvas, gesturing him over to the lounge with a tilt of your head. All of the appropriately colored paint is mixed and prepared, the only thing that you need is your model.

“I did.”

After a few moments of seemingly silent contemplation on his part, he does oblige. With each layer of his clothing stripped off, each peak of him beneath the thick, dark colors your face grows ever warmer.

To think this terribly awkward man was built like a god? Narrow hips, a broad chest, the trail of fur running down to thick thighs… You swallow hard, hoping that he will not notice your stare as it momentarily rests on the already frighteningly stiff cock between his legs.

He’s rigid when posing too, so much so that you find yourself reluctantly padding over to him to guide him down onto his side with words and light nudges with the back of your hand. A part of you wonders if it’s intentional, too, from the way he adjusts perfectly with the slightest brush of your hand, the way his face seems to flush and that mischievous grin only seems to grow more prevalent.

When your hand moves to push him to prop his elbow up, rest his chin on his palm to stare out towards your waiting canvas, the dam seems to burst entirely. His frustrations reach a peak and he groans whilst resting his hand against your waist, his thick fingers tracing lazy patterns into your blouse.

“It would be quicker if I painted you first.”

“That so?”

You had set this all up with him in mind, but allow the gentle way he guides your blouse over your head, the warmth of his hands against your stomach as he ushers you out of your pants. There’s a slow urgency to his touch as he rises up behind you, a trembling hand freeing the clasps of your bra and rolling the pads of his thumbs over your shoulders when he lowers the straps.

His breath catches in his throat when you turn your head to glance at him from over your shoulder.

“I can handle taking off my underwear,” you chide.

He almost looks mortified, despite the way he remains entirely erect, shameless and not making an attempt to cover himself at all.

“Ja,” he mutters.

You’re left to it as he takes your place to paint. Fingers hook beneath the waist band, thighs raised as you languidly pull yourself free of the last of your defenses, a mere strip of tightly woven lace. It’s just a simple art practice there’s no need to feel so… nervous, but König’s stare is only as innocent as the evident arousal he shifts in place in a pitiful attempt to subdue.

As promised, his painting is completed far quicker than yours would have been.

This time, however, it’s less of an endearing splatter and more of a love letter lain out on canvas. When your eyes catch each curve, each soft dip of your flesh, even the placid expression on your face the rapid beating of your heart must have been nearly audible. It’s not just that he’s painted you well, it’s a glimpse of how you must look through his eyes, something so ethereal and tender…

You lean over him, feeling the muscles of his back tense beneath your breasts as you hook your arm around his shoulders in a partial embrace.

Your thanks is spoken in a tight murmur, as he rests his fingertips over your hand, leaving traces of vivid paint striped across.

When the canvas is replaced, you’re determined to recreate the admiration felt in his own painting. Only, it seems to pale in comparison— there’s far too much to focus on, from each bundle of muscle, the spread of hair leading from his chest to navel, the scars you’ve adored so much… for the first time since this strange, billowing confusion struck up between you two, you find yourself with shaking hands instead.

It does not help at all, that upon reaching his hips your mind is fogged by something far less noble than the blossoming of creativity.

When you call him over to look over your own work, conveniently having stopped just at his hips, you give a half-hearted shrug and suggest that he comes back over to have it completed another time. He hums something in German as he rests his chin atop your head, a flurry of warmth surging forth when he gently pries the brush from your hand and sets it aside.

Though it’s lackluster, he still praises your talent, in a breathy whisper that seems almost uncharacteristic when attributed to the strange, shy titan you had met before.

“I can come back tomorrow,” he suggests when he finally draws back to gather the scattered pieces of his clothing from the floor.

“Yeah… Tomorrow, then.”

He marvels at his painting of you for a moment before gathering it, careful not to smear the still-wet paint… A part of you had hoped that he would let you keep it, just like the last that hangs proudly on your wall.

König, however, finds that this piece is much more tailored for his room rather than yours.

[taintedtort]

prompt ✧ you don’t say i love you back

characters ✧ albedo, kazuha, aether

warnings ✧ gn!reader, aether calls you honey

a/n ✧ this is a pt 2… albedo as promised (and yes i used kazuha‘s bday haiku, im unoriginal and hate poetry)

ALBEDO

✧ confused

the two of you were walking back to his cave in the snow, hands intertwined together with them both stuffed into one of albedos pockets. he insists he doesn’t need lots of layers, having been used to the cold for quite some time, but you force him to put on a coat anyway. he secretly thinks it’s endearing how you dote on him though.

you weren’t in a hurry. the wind was calm and there weren’t any monsters on this path, it was peaceful. the snow crunched under your shoes as you walked, the sound a harsh contrast to that of the quiet mountain.

you were lost in your thoughts until you saw albedo point past your head. you turned, expecting a monster, but instead found a pretty flower. you quickly recognized it as the flower albedo needed for one of his experiments.

you made a sound of enthusiastic surprise before pulling away from him to retrieve it. you stepped over sticks and rocks to reach it, carefully pulling at the stem.

once you got it, you stumbled your way back over to albedo, a huge smile on your face. you proudly presented the item, making a cheesy comment about you getting him flowers.

it was moments like these that made his heart swell with adoration towards you, and he couldn’t help but tell you just how he felt.

"i love you very much, you make me feel things i’ve never experienced before. thank you."

his words completely caught you off guard, making your cheeks heat up. you almost responded on instinct, but remembered your joke you’ve been wanting to try. you’ve been waiting for days, you couldn’t pass this opportunity to prank him!

you weren’t so heartless as to simply nod at his words, so you flashed a smile and pecked his cold cheek. you turned to keep walking and he followed, not saying anything else. if you could see his face, you’d see the confused furrow in his brow.

once arrived back to his warm cave, you sat on the bed. the walk into mondstadt was too long, your feet ached from the excessive walking as well as the cold.

while you lay with your eyes closed, you could feel albedo staring. you knew he most likely caught on to your joke and was trying to find the most likely scenario to your lack of response.

he doesn’t say it often, so he knows when he does it’s more special, that’s why you always make an effort to say it back. were you upset? no… there’s no indication youre angry with him. did you just not feel like it? maybe you didn’t feel the same amount of love for him in that moment that he did for you.

he tried to brush it off but couldn’t, he doesn’t like not knowing things. that reason was why he walked over and joined you on the bed instead of using the flower you picked for him to finish his project. when you felt him sink down next to you, you were a bit surprised. he doesn’t usually break from his experiments, especially after finally getting the last thing he needed after looking for so long.

he turned on his side and propped his head up with his hand, letting his other run through your hair. the action brought a content smile to your face. you let yourself relax for a moment before he spoke up.

"are you alright?"

you knew his words had another meaning, but you didn’t give in just yet. you told him you were great besides your feet hurting a little.

"…are you sure?"

his tone was quiet and cautious, not wanting to make you angry at him for pushing. obviously you would never get upset over something like that, but he was being careful.

when you looked at him he was staring at your face, his eyes filled with pure love, but his lips were bent down. his expression made your heart sink, you knew your little joke might upset him but it still made you feel terrible.

you instantly apologized and told him you loved him, turning on your side to face him before wrapping your arms around his torso, your face buried in his chest. you felt him exhale as he returned the embrace.

"were you just teasing me again?"

when he felt you nod he swore he felt ten times lighter. he was seriously worried for a second. he was sort of disappointed in himself for not catching on though, usually he could read you like a book.

"ah, i see. you got me."

KAZUHA

✧ instantly knew

you stood looking over the edge of the ship, staring at the seemingly endless ocean. the crew was bustling behind you, but you were used to the noise so it didn’t bother you.

you felt hands sneak around your waist and a chin rest on your shoulder, a calm voice muttering in your ear. instantly knowing it was kazuha, you turned in his embrace. greeting him with a smile and a quiet 'hi.'

"hi back. i was looking for you."

you smiled at the look on his face. totally smitten. he knew he looked like a lovesick idiot, but he didn’t care. you brought your hands up to his cheeks and smooshed them a little, asking what he needed you for.

"i want you to listen to my haiku, please."

you teased him a little, asking if it was about you, to which he responded with a nod. once you agreed, like always, his voice dropped into a smooth, quiet tone while he recited.

"sun and moon rejoice

birds of dawn sing songs anew

far from home, with you"

he smiled sheepishly when he finished, stating he knows he’s not very good but he tried anyway, like he always says. you shook your head and planted a kiss to his cheek, telling him you loved it and that it was beautiful.

"well thank you, i love you."

he punctuated his words with a firm kiss to your lips. when you parted and didn’t say anything back, he stared at you, scanning your face and waiting.

you tried to keep a straight face, not wanting to give yourself away. but when his staring became too much for you, you let out a huffy laugh, disguising it as a confused one as you furrowed your brow and asked him what was wrong.

he squinted at you accusingly, letting his arms let go of your waist and instead grab onto the side of the ship behind you, trapping you between them. he leaned closer to you, slowly. your heart sped up as you felt his breath on your lips. when he stopped short, hovering over your mouth and not connecting your lips to his, you decided to take the initiative. however, when you leaned forward, he leaned away.

your eyes, which were not all the way closed, opened fully as you huffed at his teasing. you leaned away from him and put your hands on his shoulders. he chuckled at your annoyed face, knowing you hated when he tricked you out of a kiss.

"i’ll let you kiss me if you just say it back."

you knew he knew you were messing with him, that’s why he had to tease you back. it was fair— but that didn’t mean you disliked it any less. with a sigh you apologized and repeated the phrase back to him.

he quickly leaned forward and captured your lips in his, kissing you passionately.

"see? that wasn’t so hard."

AETHER

✧ thought you were upset

you two were doing commissions together like normal. it wasn’t a hard one, aether doesn’t let you go with him on ones he deems too dangerous. you don’t blame him, he’s just a bit paranoid and protective after losing his sister. honestly, if anything it makes you feel safe and loved, knowing he cares about you. but then again you care about him just as much, you wanna be there to help him if he’s hurt! whenever you bring up that argument though, paimon pipes up, claiming she‘ll watch over your long haired boyfriend for you.

but one of those instances is not today. it was peaceful and calm. the commission itself was to find a specific location and take some photos for an old artist who couldn’t make the trip himself. easy stuff, just follow the directions and— oh, there’s a mountain.

"what— oh no. we don’t have to climb that do we?"

aether groaned, flipping frantically back through the directions, making sure you weren’t just supposed to go around it. he sighed and let the paper fall to his side as he realized that yes— you did have to climb the entire mountain, because the location was at the very top. the commissioner failed to mention that part.

you assured him that it’d be fine, saying that the reward you’ll get after will be worth it. which all in all… it really won’t be. it was severely underpaid for the height of the mountain.

"you’re sure you’ll be fine? you won’t fall, right?"

you heard the anxious tone in his voice and reassured him with a firm nod and a kiss on the cheek. he made you pinkie promise to him that you will not fall, and that if you feel yourself getting tired you’ll tell him so he can help.

after taking a deep breath, you both scaled up the mountain. you both had done this many times before, so you weren’t too worried. however, the sheer size of the structure was a bit unsettling.

to say you were relieved when coming to realize there were some cliffs to sit on for a break would be an understatement. you counted 4 total cliff sides that seemed to stick out enough to fit your body, so that’s how you paced yourself.

aether naturally noticed the same thing and followed your lead, hauling himself up onto each ledge and waiting for a few moments before continuing.

he was letting you lead, staying a little ways below you so he could react if you fell. he knew you’d be fine, you’d never fallen before and he didn’t think you would any time soon, but he still couldn’t help but worry just a little.

once you finally reached the top, you turned to pull aether the rest of the way up. but you failed to notice the steep hill that went downwards a few feet away from the ledge.

when you pulled him up, you took a couple steps back to ensure he didn’t fall back over the edge, causing you to lose your footing and tumble down the hill. you heard your lover shout out your name in concern while he tried to grab onto your arm, but he was a second too late.

leafs and sticks were pilled up, making it hard to find your footing. you continued sliding till you reached the bottom, covered in dirt and a few leafs. you heard aether running down after you, yelling out your name and asking if you were okay.

once he reached you, he knelt down, the panic clear in his eyes. his hand instinctively reached for your arm, gently holding it while doing a once over of your body.

"are you alright? i’m so sorry i let you fall! you didn’t break anything did you?"

you started laughing at yourself, kind of embarrassed that he just saw you roll down a hill. he didn’t find it funny though, not a trace of a smile making its way to his face. you had to reassure him that you were completely fine, and he still made sure to check every one of your limbs for broken bones, and even pulled your shirt up to examine your back for scratches.

once he was sure you weren’t seriously injured, he helped you up and took the leafs out of your hair and off your clothes, dusting the dirt off you in the process. after you were relatively cleaned off, he placed a firm kiss to your lips.

"archons… you scared me, i love you."

you flashed him a smile and replied with a simple 'yeah!' before moving around him to keep walking. you heard his hurried footsteps as he caught up to you, intertwining your fingers with his and pulling you to a stop.

"woah woah, what’s wrong? are you okay? seriously."

his expression was that of a kicked puppy, making your heart melt. his lips were turned downward and his eyebrows were drawn together, making his eyes look even softer than usual. you nodded at his questioning, telling him you were completely alright and that he didn’t need to worry about you.

he assumed you thought he meant if you were okay physically, so he quickly clarified with a defeated tone.

"i know you’re fine physically. but you didn’t say it back, is something the matter, honey?"

the nickname mixed with his hand tightly clutching yours was too much, you couldn’t take it. you pulled him into a tight hug and told him you were just teasing him. you said that you loved him more than anyone in the whole world and that he meant everything to you.

you followed up your words with a loving kiss to his lips, leaving him stunned. you noticed his ears reddening, but he quickly recovered and gripped your hand even tighter, moving in front of you to pull you along behind him.

"just teasing huh? i’ll get you back for that later."

[hwanghyunjinenthusiast]

I'm not even a Christmas person but, I thought this would be a fun idea. I also like how S.Coups is always a husband in my works lol. The bias is evident. This was also far longer than I initially meant for it to be. The S.Coups brainrot is apparent.

Heads up: Choi Seungcheol x Fem! Reader, crack honestly, Reader dresses up in a skimpy Mrs. Claus outfit and S.Coups is weirdly into it, they're disgustingly inlove with each other, (Mostly) Soft Dom! Seungcheol, Sub! Reader, Seungcheol being a tease, dirty talk, oral sex (f. receiving), thigh spanking (f. receiving), unprotected piv sex, creampie, mild praise kink and mild degradation (f. receiving).

I will block you if you are a minor and/or have no easily visible indication of your age on your blog if you interact with me in any way.

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

"Can I open my eyes now?" Seungcheol asks from your shared bedroom. You can hear the smile in his voice without even seeing his face.

You really should stop listening to Jeonghan.

He was the one who suggested you buy the skimpy Mrs Claus outfit while the two of you were out together earlier. Seungcheol would love it and appreciate the humour in it, he said. And for some reason you had chosen to listen to him like the clown that you are.

"Not yet. I'll be there in a minute, Cheol," you respond, trying to find the courage to face him. You know logically that Seungcheol would never actively make you feel terrible for something you're wearing, especially an outfit that was meant to be moreso comical. However, you can't help but, feel a little ridiculous now actually wearing the get up.

Oh well, it's now or never and you promised your husband a surprise.

"You can open your eyes now," you say to him quietly and, Seungcheol is greeted with quite the eyeful when he does.

The bright red top you're wearing barely contains your tits. They're practically spilling out of the strappy top. The matching skirt isn't much better. It just passes your ass and he's sure he'd be able to see your panties clear as day if you turned around right now. The black thigh high socks you're wearing cling very attractively to your legs too. Creating little, wonderful indents in your upper thighs where they come to rest.

"Ta da," you say half-heartedly, fiddling with the hem of your skirt and studiously avoiding Seungcheol's gaze.

Seungcheol, for his part, is realising some things about himself seeing you in this outfit. He can feel his cock hardening just from taking you in. He was expecting for the two of you to laugh about this, maybe make out because he'd never miss the opportunity to make out with his ridiculously hot wife but, this was far sexier than he was prepared for.

"You look great," he says, voice already gravelly and his eyes slightly lidded.

"Don't patronise me, Seungcheol," you respond a little bit more defensive than you meant to. Eyes shooting up to finally meet his, an apology on your tongue.

However, it dies on your tongue just as quickly when you take your husband in as well. You're a little startled to see the blatantly want in his gaze. His eyes travelling across your body once more before they meet your own.

"You know I would never do that. I mean it. You look great. So fucking sexy," and this time you realise he does mean every word he's saying. Even if he was lying verbally, his facial expressions and body language always gave Seungcheol away and, right now he's practically yelling how much he wants you.

"You know, when I first thought about dressing up like this, I didn't think it would lead to discovering a new kink you have," you say a little sheepishly.

He responds with a low chuckle, a very stark contrast from his usual, endearing giggle. The sound goes straight to the junction between your thighs, a familiar, dull throb settling in.

"I'm just as surprised as you are. But, I'm not complaining. Come here, baby," he says, a commanding edge to his voice. You and him both know you'd never dream to disobey him when he sounds like that so, you steadily make your way over to him until you're standing a few centimetres from touching him.

Seungcheol taps his thigh in invitation and you need no more prompting as you move to settle yourself across his delectable lap. You can't help the little sound you make, part surprise and part desire, when you feel him pressing against you through his sweats and your panties.

"Oh wow, you're really into this," you say breathlessly, wrapping your arms around his neck and letting your fingers play with his dark hair.

His hands come up to rest on your upper thighs, eyes staring intently at your mouth with a small uptick of his own lips. "I'm generally really into anything that has to do with you, yeah," he says, leaning closer to you.

"That was really cheesy, Seungcheol. Even for you," is all you say before you press your lips to his. He groans against your mouth, hands gripping your thighs harder as the kiss begins to increase in desperation.

You can't help the way your hips move against his now fully erect cock. Your own grip in his hair becoming harsher as well while the two of you move with each other. Taking any friction you can get.

Seungcheol was the first one to pull away due to the lack of oxygen. He began to kiss along your jaw and neck, moving to now hold onto your hips and dragging you harder and faster against the length of him.

"Cheol," you gasp out, his brushes against your clit and, mouth along your neck making your panties stick to you uncomfortably now.

"You're so fucking sexy," he mutters against your skin, one of his hands coming up to cup a generous handful of your breast. He massaged you through the flimsy material of your top, smirking against you everytime he grazed your hardened nipple which caused you to shudder.

"Cheol, please," you whine, pressing against his hand and cock desperately. Feeling as though you'll lose your mind if he doesn't do something. Anything, at this point.

You grab onto his shoulders reflexively when he moves to flip the two of you over, eyes widening in surprise. Once on your back, your husband shoots you a grin from above before making sure you're comfortable against your pillows. Your heart squeezes a little in unbridled affection at him. Even through all the lust and neediness, he took the time to make sure he wasn't too sudden or rough with you. Sometimes when you think you're unable to love him anymore, your husband always makes sure to prove you wrong.

Both in the grand gestures and the more subtle ones.

Cupping his face, you pull him into another ferocious kiss. Firmly wrapping your legs around his hips and taking great delight in the moan he let's out against your mouth when he presses against your clothed centre once again.

"I take it I've been very good this year," he says as you eagerly kiss along his jaw and impatiently tug at his shirt.

Any sparky retort you had in mind completely vanishes when he pulls back to throw his shirt somewhere on your bedroom floor. Wide expanses of firm muscle free for you to ogle at and touch as you please. God, you really were the luckiest woman alive.

"Yeah, very good," you say absentmindedly, dragging your fingernails across his chest. Delighting in the way his body tensed and jumped whenever you ran them along his abs.

"I don't think I deserve to be teased if I've been good," he says lowly in your ear and, this time it's his turn to revel in the way your body reacts to him. Your hands faltering along his skin and the shiver that ran down your spine.

"Well, what do you want as a reward?"

"That's a pretty loaded question. There's so many options to choose from," he says, lazily dragging his eyes over your body. They eventually stop on your thighs. He licks his plump lips before saying, "I think I've settled on what I want."

Seungcheol gave you one more kiss against your bruised lips before moving downwards to settle himself between your thighs. Watching your face as he lightly kissed along your inner thighs, hands caressing your outer thighs and enjoying feeling the contrast between your soft skin and the cotton of your socks. The scent of your arousal was fast going to his head and making him feel hazy but, he wanted to work you up properly.

Make you beg for his mouth against you. Very little turned him on like the sounds of you begging for him.

So, he held onto every ounce of his self-restraint as he kept kissing your skin and watching you. Biting back a smirk at the antsy look in your eyes and one of your hands coming to rest against his head.

"Cheol, please," you whine out, pressing your hips up. Trying to move yourself closer to his mouth. However, he held you down firmly. His own eyes molten with desire.

"Please what? Say it."

"I- I want your mouth, please. Or even your fingers. I'll take anything,"

Seungcheol feels himself throb painfully at that. Half-tempted to just sink his cock into you right then and there and, fuck you until you were reduced to tears. However, he had a reward to claim. That could wait.

"I am using my mouth, baby," he says, pressing another kiss higher up on your inner thigh to prove his point. The pout on your lips and the slight tug on his hair makes him laugh a little against you. He can't help it, you're just so cute.

"Not there. You know where, Cheol,"

"I really don't. You have to use your words otherwise I can't help you,"

"My pussy, Cheol. Please, I want your mouth on my pussy please," you finally cry out, pulling at his hair harder this time and feeling frustrated tears build in your eyes.

That's all he needed to hear.

He immediately pressed his mouth against your pastel pink panties, shoving your skirt up your waist and out of his way. Closing his eyes and moaning at the taste of you, even with the barrier stopping him from tasting you directly. You were still heavenly. He couldn't help himself from grinding against your bed in search of some sort of relief for his throbbing cock.

"Ch-Cheol," you choke out, trying to move yourself against his mouth once more despite his steady hold on you. He doesn't let you, however. Seungcheol is taking his time licking at your through your panties, making sure to press a little harder on your clit.

Watching you gradually fall apart under his teasing only fuels the want coursing through his veins. You still get so needy and sensitive after all these years.

Deciding to show you some kindness, he does eventually tug your panties off of you. Leaving you wet and bare for him. And fuck, are you a sight to behold. He clenches his jaw as he takes in how soaked and plump with arousal you are, his cock leaking a good amount of pre-cum in his boxers now. Glancing at your face briefly, he feels himself throb violently at your expression. He hasn't even made you cum yet and you look so fucked out already. Your hair a mess against the pillows, eyes glazed over and teary, mouth open and bruised from the earlier kisses the two of you exchanged and, the straps of your top barely clinging on.

"I don't know what I've done to deserve this as a reward but, thank you," he says, his breaths hitting you directly and making you arch against him. Eyes fluttering shut as you keen from the sensations. You definitely weren't going to last long the ways things were going.

Before you can beg him to please just eat you out, he beats you to it. Looking up at you from between your thighs as he takes his first, long lick of you. Moaning from your taste and the way both of your hands fist his hair. He decides to you've been more than well-behaved enough to deserve a reward of your own so, he wastes no time in diving right in.

He laps at your clit while shifting one of his hands from its hold on you to ease two fingers inside of your eager hole. They're thick and long and fill you up in that way only Seungcheol can. He slowly moves them, taking note of the way your thighs quiver around his head every time he brushes that spot inside of you that leaves you breathless. He makes sure to curl his fingers and press against said spot hard and, is immediately graced with a sharp cry from your pretty lips, your hold on his hair bordering on painful now but, he's determined to push through.

He continues fingering you, watching your face and he can tell you're getting close. However, he pulls himself from your clit and stills his fingers inside you. Your eyes fly open to meet his and he almost groans at the frustrated, desperate look in them, "Why-Why'd you stop? I was close."

"I want you to look at me. If you close your eyes or look away, I'll stop," is all Seungcheol says before starting his ministrations back up once again. Adding more pressure to your clit as a form of apology for stopping and moving his fingers faster, making sure you're watching him all the while.

And you are. Even as a few tears make their way down your cheeks and your moans increase in pitch, you keep your eyes on him. Always such a good, obedient girl.

Good girls deserve to cum.

Seungcheol increases the intensity of his actions. Sucking a little harder on your clit and curling his fingers harder than before inside of your velvet walls, his unoccupied hand trying to keep you in place so you have no choice but, to take everything he's choosing to give you.

It's a particularly hard suck on your clit that you attribute to finally sending you over the edge. Your grip in Seungcheol's hair tightening as you arch against his mouth and his fingers. He tries his best to hold you down and work you through it.  Moaning against your clit at the fresh arousal that coats his cheeks, mouth, chin and fingers.

Your breathing is ragged as you try to come back to your body. You shuddering as Seungcheol continues to lick at you and finger you slowly, the sensations quickly shitfing in overstimulation territory.

"Che-Cheol, too much," you gasp out, gently pulling at his hair in an attempt to move him away from you. He gives your pussy one final kiss before shifting away from you and easing his fingers out of you.

He moves up your body, pressing a soft kiss to your lips. Letting you taste yourself on his tongue. "You okay?" He asks, pulling back to look over your face to make sure this wasn't too much for you.

You shoot him a lazy, amused smile and wrap your arms around his neck, "You're still such a worrier after all these years, Cheol. You know I can take more than that. I'm good."

"It never hurts to make sure," your husband pouts and you feel that familiar affection for him settle into your chest. It's hard to believe this was the same man who was determined to leave you as little more than a puddle moments ago.

Said affection prompts you to lean up and kiss him once again and, your husband is more than happy to reciprocate. Although you just came not too long ago, you can't help the way your insides ache when you feel him pressing against your thigh.

"Want you," you utter against his mouth, your hands moving to toy with the waistband of his sweatpants. "Want you too," he says, leaning back to shove his boxers and sweatpants off his body impatiently.

You don't think you'll ever really get used to seeing Seungcheol naked. His cock slaps against his stomach incredibly appealingly, smearing pre-cum in its wake. It's hard and red and making you feel very, very empty at the moment.

"As flattered as I am by my lovely wife ogling me, I'd prefer if you got undressed too. My reward and all that," he says sounding annoyingly smug. You resist the urge to roll your eyes as he helps you shuffle off your skirt and tug off your top. However, we you move to tug off the thigh high socks, his hands rest on yours to still them.

"You can keep those on,"

"How very predictable of you, Cheol," you say with a giggle, laying back down as he settles between your thighs once again.

"What can I say? I know what I like. Now, I want you to hold your thighs open for me," he says, the humour vanishing from his tone as he stares down at you and grips his cock in his hand. Sometimes it still gives you whiplash how quickly he's able to be all cute and giggly then look at you like he wants to devour you.

You quickly follow his command. Placing your hands on the backs of your thighs as he runs the head of his cock along your slit, allowing it to get coated in your arousal. You moan every time he brushes against your clit, feeling your hold on your thighs weaken with every teasing brush against you.

Seungcheol isn't having any of it, however and he promptly delivers a harsh spank to the side of your thigh. "Keep your thighs spread for me, baby. I don't want to have to punish you," he coos in mock sympathy, a devious smirk spreading across his face as he watches you gasp and recoil from the spank, fresh arousal gushing out of you.

"Y-Yes, Cheol," you stammer out, readjusting your hold on yourself until your husband was seemingly satisfied. "Good girl," he groans before pushing himself into after what feels like eons. You feel your hold slipping once again as he sinks into you, his cock feeling thick and delightfully familiar inside of you. "So fucking tight," he moans, his hands coming up to replace your own as he watches his cock gradually move in and out of you, completely covered in your juices.

You feel yourself clench and spasm around him, getting used to the feeling of him inside of you. He still thoroughly stretched your insides out all these years later, the slight sting ebbing away to give rise to nothing but, pleasure.

"Cheol, so d-deep," you gasp out when he hooks your legs over his arms and leans forward to capture one of your nipples in his mouth, picking up speed all the while.

"You're always so wet and tight for me. Your pussy takes me so well, baby," he moans against your breast, pushing into you especially hard. "Can't wait to fill you up with my cum."

His words push you closer to the edge than you anticipated, walls gripping him harshly while your fingernails dig almost red crescent moons into his biceps.

"Yes, Cheol. I want it, please. I want you to c-cum inside of me," you whine out, wishing your legs were free so you could wrap them around him to pull him closer to you.

"Yeah? My baby wants me to fill her up like the good, little cumslut she is?" He asks against your ear, his voice low with arousal as the sound of skin slapping against skin rings throughout your bedroom.

You can tell he's close based on how hard he's throbbing inside of you and the sloppiness of his thrusts. His dark locks sticking to his sweaty forehead as he chases his release, the volume of his own sounds of pleasure increasing as well.

"Y-Yes, Cheol. I want you to fill me up, please. I'm your good, little cumslut," you cry out, reaching for one of his hands. Seungcheol seems to understand what you want because he's grasping your hand in his while he moans into the side of your neck, his climax punching him squarely in the gut before he realises it.

Tears spill down your face while he weakly continues to thrust into you, his hips jolting slightly ever so often. You don't think you'll ever tire of the sensation of Seungcheol cumming inside of you. It's still as hot and exhilarating as the first time he did it.

Your second orgasm isn't quite as earthshattering as the first one but, you still arch against him and milk him for the remainder of his cum all the same. He moves from your neck to look down at you in surprise and desire when he feels the telltale signs of your release and, cups your jaw with one hand and presses a heartbreakingly gentle kiss against your lips.

"Have I told you how hot you are lately? Because you're pretty hot," he mutters against your lips, his eyes alight with humour and affection.

"You could stand to mention it more. For what it's worth, I think you're really hot too but, could you let go of my legs? I think I'm losing feeling in them," you half wheeze out.

"Oh shit, sorry," Seungcheol says, moving to untangle your legs from his arms and settling ontop of you comfortably.

Usually you'd complain about his weight on you since your husband was practically all muscle and the sticky feeling between your thighs that was quickly becoming unpleasant but, you didn't want to ruin the fragile tranquility you two currently found yourselves in.

His hands soothingly massaging your thighs while your own ran along his shoulders and back.

"Best Christmas present ever. Solid 10/10,"

"Cheol, we have sex all the time. That doesn't really count as a Christmas present,"

"Well, you don't always dress up when we have sex so, that makes this time special. Plus, it's my gift so I get to decide whether it counts or not,"

"Do you want me to dress up more often?" You ask jokingly.

The way your husband moved his head to look at you probably broke some kind of world record for how quick he was, "Are you being serious?"

"I might consider it," you say in amusement, giggling at the genuine excitement on his face.

Well, New Year's was just around the corner. Perhaps it couldn't hurt.