#i had THOUGHTS about Inky okay

[prythianpages]

'Cause It Was Always You | Azriel x Reader

summary: After eavesdropping on multiple conversations, Azriel finally gathers the courage to confess his feelings to you, thinking he's on the verge of losing you.

word count: 1,741

warnings: I guess angst at the beginning? But I promise it ends with fluff!

a/n: Billie Eilish's Birds of a Feather has been on repeat in my head and it prompted this cute little idea. Also shoutout to @nocasdatsgay for helping me with a codename for Az.

“I fear I’ll love Lapis until the day that I die…until the light leaves my eyes…until I’m in the grave, rotting awa–”

“y/n, you’re drunk,” Feyre had giggled.

“Drunk in love,” you sang in response with a giggle of your own.

And when one of Azriel’s shadows reported the silly little smile on your face, the silly little sparkle in your eyes, he shrunk back into the ones that had remained. His heart sank to his stomach, a cold, heavy weight settling there. 

Because you were in love. 

With someone that wasn’t him.

Azriel told himself that was the last time he’d eavesdrop. And perhaps, that wouldn’t have been a lie, if it wasn’t for the pesky little shadow that followed you around. It enjoyed dancing and flitting around you. Sometimes, it’d make its presence known by weaving through your hair or slithering up your arm. Most times, it’d trail behind you, like a little duckling.

Azriel tried to call the shadow back home but it was unwavering, choosing to linger in your presence instead. The same way he wished to linger by your side. And recently, the inky traitor had gotten into the habit of summoning more of his shadows to your side, weaving an invisible bond between you and him.

Every time a shadow returned to him, it brought whispers of your laughter, the sparkle in your eyes, and the softness in your voice when you spoke of Lapis. Each word you uttered about that male tore him apart, every confession cutting deeper than any blade ever could.

“If you don’t ask Lapis out, Jasper will do it for you and believe me when I say you do not want that to happen.”

“Okay, okay! I’ll ask him out. Tomorrow.”

That was a snippet of a conversation his shadows had reported to him earlier, cutting his morning training short. It lingered with him, haunting him throughout the day. And now, he found himself unable to sleep, constantly turning in his bed.

Azriel’s stomach twists into a tight knot, the storm raging outside echoing his inner turmoil. Tomorrow. He was running out of time.  Fear and perhaps, even pride, kept him from telling you how he truly felt about you. But now, he found himself fearing something even worse. Losing you before he even had a chance to say it…

He didn’t want to wake up one day and regret his silence, regret not telling you how he felt because of pride or fear. He needed to do this for himself, to break free from the shadows of his past. He had failed to confess his love twice before, and the thought of a third failure was unbearable. This time, he couldn’t let fear hold him back. The risk of losing you to someone else was a pain he couldn't endure.

With a deep breath, Azriel steeled himself. He needed to find you, to tell you the truth about his feelings. Before anything between you and Lapis could blossom. He couldn’t let another moment pass without you knowing how deeply he loved you.

Which is how he found himself at your doorstep, in the middle of the night, clothes sticking to him like a second skin as the rain pours relentlessly down on him. His shadows stir in excitement, whispering anxiously as they hear your approaching footsteps. His heart is pounding, so fast and hard that he fears it’s going to explode.

“Azriel?” 

Your voice is still marred by sleep as you blink up at him. That traitorous shadow hovers behind you, peering at him over your shoulder. He glares at it, and it quickly hides behind your hair. You don’t seem to notice it, either unfazed or truly oblivious to the shadow that had been following you around for so long.

“Did something happen?” You speak again, brows furrowing in concern. You step back into your apartment, a silent gesture for him to follow after you and come inside. 

“I–” Azriel begins but he can’t bring himself to finish his sentence. He can’t even bring himself to move as his eyes catch the movement of your arms wrapping around yourself to ward off the chill of the downpour. The nightgown you’re wearing is thin and short. A  glimpse of your exposed skin has a warmth rushing to his face and he’s blushing.

"I—" He tries again but when his eyes meet yours, his heart leaps into his throat, choking off his words. Oh gods, he can’t do this. He’s grateful for the rain as it masks the tears beginning to sting at his eyes. He thinks he’s going to be sick and–

“Are you okay?”

His shadows push him forward, wings shuddering in response. It’s now or never. He can do this. He takes a deep breath, swallowing the lump in his throat.

“I love you.” 

The words spill out in a rush, raw and unguarded. He watches you with bated breath, his shadows whispering every nuance in your expression—from the way your eyebrows raise and your mouth parts as a gasp escapes, to the way your eyes glisten with something he’s too scared to discern.

You’re rendered speechless, the silence that follows feeling like an eternity. Azriel’s wings slump, growing heavy. He clears his throat, averting his gaze. The need to retreat is overpowering what little courage he had gathered moments ago. 

“That’s all I had to say. I should, um–I’ll be leaving now,” he stammers, so unsure and so unlike himself.

“Az–” you start, reaching out to him, but he’s already stepping back into the rain. He doesn’t think he can face your rejection, much less witness the look on your face if you don’t feel the same.

“Goodnight.”

His shadows are like a wall of resistance, fighting against him as he turns to make his leave. He asks them—begs them, even– to swallow him whole. To winnow him away and save him from further mortification. But they refuse. Stay, they insist, tugging and weighing his wings down. 

It leaves him with no choice but to walk away. Every step feels heavier than the last, the rain soaking him to the bone. Listen, his shadows urge as they continue to tug relentlessly at his wings for him to turn back around and face you. 

But he can’t. Not when the Mother has seemed to have cursed him with loving those who could never love him back.

“Azriel!”

His mind screams at him to keep going, to keep walking away. However, the plea echoed in your voice has his chest tightening. His heart overrides his mind, shadows only encouraging him further. He turns around just in time to catch you as you leap into his arms.

Your legs wrap around his waist, arms encircling his neck in a desperate effort to keep him from leaving. His own arms respond immediately, securing you to him. 

“Don’t go.”

Your breath is warm against his neck as you tighten your embrace, and his wings curl around your smaller form in response, wanting to shield you from the relentless rain. He feels you shift in his arms, pulling away just enough to look into his eyes. One hand reaches out, tenderly brushing the dark fringe from his forehead. His breath catches, and you must sense his inner turmoil because you gently smooth away the furrow of his brow with your thumb.

“I love you,” you say, your hand caressing his cheek. Despite the cold, harsh downpour, your touch is warm and soft. A balm to his frayed nerves.

His heart swells with a mixture of disbelief and overwhelming joy. He had prepared himself for rejection, for the familiar sting of unrequited love. But here you were, confessing your love to him with the same vulnerability he had shown you.

“Really?” he whispers, voice thick with emotion, eyes searching yours for any sign of hesitation.

“Really.”

“I thought I was going to lose you,” he murmurs, his voice trembling with relief. “I thought I’d never have the chance to tell you.”

“Lose me? Azriel, you’ve always had me.”

“But you said you loved Lapis? You were going to ask him out–”

“So you were spying on me!”

Azriel’s eyes widen, cheeks flushing all over again and he’s glad it’s dark enough to conceal it. “No–I–not intentionally…my shadows, they…,” he trails off, realizing how ridiculous he must sound.

Yes, his shadow refused to come back to him. But he didn’t stop the others from reporting back to him so with a defeated sigh, he says, “I’m sorry.”

“Azriel,” you giggle and he’s frowning at you, not finding the humor in the situation. “You are Lapis.”

“What?”

“You’re Lapis. Cas is Jasper and Rhys is Amethyst.” You explain, lips curling into an amused smile at the sigh of relief that comes from Azriel. How had he not realized that all those names shared one thing in common? And more importantly, that they were color coded to his and Cassian’s siphons?

“I needed a codename for you so I can gush about my feelings for you without, you know,” you tilt your head toward that nosey, barely visible shadow that had been following you around. Sensing the attention, the shadow dips and hides again, curling around the back of your neck. 

“I fear it’s yours now,” Azriel replies, almost sheepishly.

“Good,” you smile at him. “I’ve grown rather fond of it. Just as I have over its master.”

His shadows take your words as a welcome invitation, swirling and dancing around you both. Azriel’s arms hook underneath your thighs, pulling you even closer to him. Your arms find their place around his neck again.

Then, you're closing the small distance between you and kissing him. Warmth spreads throughout him, reveling in the sweet sensation of your lips against his. The rain continues to pour, but neither of you care. 

When you finally pull away, he leans his forehead against yours, his eyes remaining closed as if in fear that this is all just a dream. You gently kiss his nose, your soft voice reminding him that this moment is real.

“I love you.”

Azriel’s eyes open, looking right into yours. “Until the day that I die,” he tells you, echoing your devotion.

There’s a knowing spark in your eyes as they search his own for answers. It has his lips lifting into a smile that mirrors yours, confirming that he had been eavesdropping on your drunken confession weeks ago.  Your smile widens. 

 “Until the light leaves my eyes.”

This was a better idea in my head but hey, at least I finished it. I also don't know the logistics of having a conversation in the rain but that's the beauty of fanfic, I guess?lol Anyway, I could not get these lyrics out of my head. They were so Azriel coded for me:

I'll love you 'til the day that I die 'Til the day that I die 'Til the light leaves my eyes 'Til the day that I die I want you to see, hm How you look to me, hm You wouldn't believe if I told ya You would keep the compliments I throw ya

the way I keep fixing these lyrics but I think tumblr is glitching or something uggghh, pls ignore the random mismatched sizing

Also just wanted to point out that if Az hasn’t confessed, reader would’ve done it the next day anyway 💀

general tag list: @scooobies, @kennedy-brooke, @sillysillygoose444, @lilah-asteria @the-sweet-psycho

@daycourtofficial, @milswrites, @stormhearty, @pit-and-the-pen, @mybestfriendmademe

[cordeliawhohung]

Again same anon, no need to like post this one BUT the whole cig shotgun thing, i also think that he wouldn’t want her to inhale the smoke. He’d make her exhale it after holding it for a second or two—let her get the taste. “Can’t have you doin shit tha’s bad for ya, you already overwork yourself.” And perhaps he’d hold her jaw while he holds it to her lips.

Okay bye now I will spare you my devious thoughts

you sent this ages ago sorry but i was going through my inbox (sorry there's a lot) and i am just-

"Can I try?"

Simon nearly jumps out of skin at the soft whisper of your question. His neck snaps over his shoulder, taking in your tired form standing in the doorway, hands rubbing at your eyes. The cool summer breeze pulls at your nightshirt; it does nothing to hide the swaying parts of you that dance beneath the fabric as your bare feet trot against the cool cement of the balcony. Dark shadows dance across your face as you blink, waiting for your answer.

"Hmm?" he asks.

"Your cigarette," you clarify.

With the way his brows draw together, you would have thought the item had magically formed between his lips and he hadn't realized it until you pointed it out. Embers glow and flicker as he takes it into his fingers, making sure to hold it away from you as you lean against the railing next to him.

"You wanna try?" he asks.

You shrug. "Never have before."

Mulling your proposition over, he bites the insides of his cheeks as he studies you. He always enjoys when you're like this. Half awake and still trying to fight off thick prostration. Your eyes always seem to glimmer more. They dance in the moonlight as you stare at him, tongue wetting the inside of your lips. He swallows as he takes in the sight of them, so soft and sweet. Figures maybe he wouldn't mind putting something between them.

"Alright," he relents. Surprised, your eyes widen as you tilt your head, not having expected him to give in so quickly. He raises the cigarette, plumes of smoke traveling in its wake, yet he refuses to hand it over. "But don't inhale this shit, yeah? Holdin' it in your mouth'll do plenty. You're already workin' yourself half to death, don't need to speed that up."

Nodding your head in agreement, he finally pushes the cigarette toward you, but he still won't hand it off. Instead, he situates it so the filter faces you, and gently brings it to your lips, spoon feeding you the nicotine high himself. Warm fingers hold your chin steady, trying to keep the ash from falling on you. Eager lips wrap around the filter, and his eyes become inky as he soaks up the sight. Your lips hollow, dragging the smoke into your mouth, and you hum as the flavor washes over your tongue.

He recoils the moment you start coughing, puffs of smoke expelling from your mouth too fast to keep shape. His titter is slightly jeering as he shakes his head, shoving the stick back into his own mouth as you attempt to catch your breath.

"What'd I tell ya?" he chuckles.

"How do you keep doing that when it burns so bad?" you wheeze.

"Lot'sa practice, sweetheart."

As it usually does this late into the night, Simon's mind begins to wander. He thinks about that delicate sheen on your lips, how prettily they parted for him, and he feels that heavy libidinous ache swell deep in his stomach. There's a feeble attempt to hide his growing desire, and he smothers it with a quick drag just as your coughing begins to dwindle.

"C'mere," he prompts, head motioning for you to come closer.

Sucking in a breath of fresh air, you comply happily, pads of your feet slapping against the ground. Simon pushes himself away from the railing, standing tall as he brings his free hand up to your face. He relishes the softness of your skin underneath the thick callous of his thumb as he presses on your bottom lip.

"Open."

Lips parting, you watch in awe as he takes a long drag, eyes never leaving you for a second. He leans forward, mouth full of smoke as his lips hover above yours and then blows. Gently, it seeps between your teeth and fills your mouth, coating your skin in a haphazard mess. Your warmth pours into him as he holds your jaw steady, and it's then that he realizes he can't hold back.

Sparks flying, his discarded cigarette flies through the air as he flicks it away, lips crashing against yours just as it collides with the ground. Between the nicotine high and the taste of you, it can't be helped when his tongue breaks free from his mouth and into yours. You hum, the vibrations cutting straight into his chest as you wrap your arms around him. That hum quickly turns into a giggle as you prematurely end the kiss.

He huffs as his nose knocks against yours, silently begging for more. Withholding it from him, your hips begin to sway.

"Gonna come back to bed?" you ask.

Before he replies, he steals a quick kiss as his hands wander down to your hips. He pulls you closer, body colliding against him and his growing want.

"I'd never say no to that."

[jjkamochoso]

How do you think jjk men would court their crush? Feel free to add anyone you want but I would love to read about Choso.

OMG SO CUTE!!!! Thanks for the request and I hope you like it <3

JJK Men Courting Their Crush

A/n: okay so for this, I chose to depict most situations as their first time doing a certain courting activity with you so they’re a lil nervous and haven’t made their crush on you explicitly clear🫣 I hope that’s alright and makes sense!! And I can do a part 2 of them doing the same courtship things but with a confession, just lmk if that’s something you guys want🫶 please enjoy below!!

JJK men x gn!reader

Warnings: none

Yuji: cooking for you

“So, y/n, what do you think?”

Yuji was standing over you as you took a bite of the dish he made. Nervous energy was radiating off of him. He didn’t have much experience in the romance department but knew that usually the quickest way to someone’s heart is through their stomach. He wanted to treat you to some of his favorite dishes as a way to show you that you mean a great deal to him and hopefully get to know you better over a good meal. He had prepped in the school’s kitchen all day after spending hours trying to decide which entrees you’d like the best. He thought back to the times you all went out to eat in the city and what you ordered, then thought about what recipes he knew that were similar. As he was cooking, he hoped you liked what he made enough to where he could eventually do it for you every night.

As soon as it hit your tongue, you felt the warmth of the lovingly cooked food spread through your body. You could tell he spent lots of time on this for you and you were extremely flattered that he would go out of his way to do something like this for you.

“Yuji, it’s absolutely divine. I haven’t had something this yummy in years.”

Yuji put a hand on the back of his neck, sheepish from your compliments.

“I’m really glad you liked it. I have some more recipes that I’ve been meaning to try out and you would be the perfect taste tester if you’re up for doing this often.”

Your eyes lit up. “That would be amazing! But are you sure you wouldn’t mind cooking for me that much?”

“Of course,” he said earnestly, “it’d be tons of fun. Besides, I really like hanging out with you.”

And I really like being the cause of your adorable smile! he wanted to say, but decided to save those words for another time. Chatting and laughing with you was enough for now—maybe he’d cook up enough confidence one day to tell you how he really feels about you.

Megumi: making you playlists

Megumi couldn’t stop fidgeting as he waited for you to meet up with him before class. You had mentioned that you wanted new songs to listen to so when you asked him for recommendations, he took the collecting of songs very seriously. He was never good with his words so maybe you’d get the hint that he had a crush on you from some of the songs he chose. He heard your steps coming down the hall and it was like he forgot how to stand and breathe like a normal human being. He shoved his hands in his pockets and studied a stray rock lying on the ground to look busy.

“Hey Megumi!” you greeted, making him jump slightly. He mumbled out a “hello” and immediately dug into his backpack, a CD emerging from its inky depths.

“Well, I, uh-I didn’t know if you used Spotify or YouTube or something else but I know you mentioned having a CD player so… yeah. Here.”

He thrusted the CD into your hands without meeting your eyes. The plastic case held a disc that said “Y/n’s Playlist” in sharpie.

“Thank you so much!” you said, inspecting it, “I’ll give this a listen after class. I really do appreciate you taking the time to do this for me.”

“It’s nothing,” replied Megumi, running his fingers through his hair.

“Oh wait, I won’t know the song names or artists when I listen to this. Wanna come over later and help me make a track list?”

Megumi felt his face burn up with a blush. “Y-yeah. That, uh, sounds great.”

He’d definitely have to make you more playlists and keep forgetting to include that pertinent information!

Yuta: complimenting you nonstop

“Y/n! I like your shirt!”

“Y/n! Great fighting form!”

“That joke was hilarious, you’re so funny, y/n!”

These were things you were used to hearing when you were around Yuta. He was always showering you with compliments, not that you were complaining. He had a major crush on you and wanted to start letting you know that he saw, appreciated, and admired you without revealing his full feelings for now. You and your classmates were training on the field and Yuta was your sparring partner.

“Wow, you really pinned me down quick! That was amazing,” Yuta said as you extended a hand to help him up.

“You’re always so sweet, thank you,” you replied. “You were really good, though, too! I’m sure you’ll get me next time. You’re super strong.”

Yuta felt his breath hitch in his throat. He was superb at giving compliments but horrible at receiving them.

“Geez, that, umm… it means a-a lot coming from you because you’re so great. Thank you.”

“Please, I’m not that cool! You’re awesome as well,” you told him.

“Yeah, but not as awesome as you!”

It seemed that you two were stuck in a never ending cycle of compliments. After a few more rounds of back and forth, you agreed that you were both cool and strong and whatever other positives you could think of. Yuta left the field in high spirits, thinking of all the creative ways he could tell you how cute you were the next time he saw you.

Inumaki: giving you flowers

Toge stood, clippers in hand, eyeing the flowers in front of him with an intensity rarely seen from the blonde. He was trying to decide on which flowers to cut to make you a bouquet. Taking flowers for personal purposes would normally be extremely frowned upon but he was the plant caretaker and figured he could get away with snipping a few here and there. He thought back to all of your previous conversations, wracking his brain for any moments you might have mentioned a favorite all those times you walked here together. He remembered you’d said you liked them all so he really couldn’t choose wrong. When he made up his mind and clipped his picks, he smiled under his pulled up collar. He walked over to your dorm, an extra pep in his step.

“Toge! Hi!” you greeted kindly as you opened your door. His collar was now pulled down and you felt your heart swell at seeing his cursed marks curled in a happy expression. You were afraid you were about to get pranked when you saw he had his hands behind his back, but your fears were quelled when he presented you with a small bouquet of flowers.

“These are for me?” you asked, surprised.

He shook his head. “Salmon.”

“You’re the best! Thank you!”

You grabbed him into a hug, careful not to crush the flowers. He’d keep bringing you bouquets until either you got the hint that he liked you as more than a friend or he got the courage to write out his feelings.

Noritoshi: writing you letters

It was hard to make friends at the Kyoto school since your classmates were always so on edge about letting people get close, but you and Noritoshi had somehow bypassed that fear and your acquaintance turned into something deeper over the years. Unfortunately for Noritoshi, his feelings now dove even deeper than that, finding himself in the throes of a crush. Unsure of what to do, he’d tried ignoring the nagging feelings in heart every time you spoke to each other, but it never work. After much introspection and consideration, he determined that it would be wise to see if you felt the same. If you did, great. If you didn’t, he’d be released from the constant “what if’s” running through his mind. As he started putting pen to paper, he felt his confidence falter. Who pours their feelings into a letter instead of speaking face to face? Is that cowardly? He changed gears; this letter wouldn’t be of romantic intent, per se, but just of a way to get to know you better and show you he cares about what you think, how you feel, and whatever else he managed to write before his fingers failed him. When he nervously slipped the sealed paper under your dorm door a few days later, he anxiously awaited to see when you would mention it in your face to face conversation with him—you didn’t.

Imagine his surprise when he was greeted with his own letter hours later! You had expressed your delight in his letter and wanted to keep him as a consistent pen pal for the near future. Noritoshi’s hands grasped your letter, fingers tracing your words. With this new open view of each other’s hearts, your private conversations safe from prying ears, he yearned for the day he could tell you the truth of his heart before it was spilled in ink.

Todo: carrying/lifting things for you

Aoi knew you were more than capable of handling things yourself but he wanted to show you that he’d be your perfect, strong protector so he’d always offer to carry whatever you were holding, no matter how big or small. At school? He’d carry your books. Grocery shopping together? He’d lift all the heavy items in and out of the cart. Need to move your car but you’re too lazy to get up? Consider it done—he just picked it up and moved it. He hoped that by continuing to show up for you like this, you’d see how much he really likes you. Of course, he wouldn’t be afraid of speaking to you about his crush on you, but he would rather go out of his way to impress you first before stating his obvious attraction to you.

“Y/n! Let me get that for you!”

Your dorm room door was propped open and Aoi had shown up, seemingly out of nowhere, when you were struggling to move some furniture around in your room. He lifted the couch with ease and shot you an award winning grin and wink.

“Just tell me where you want it.”

You pointed to a spot near the window and he put the couch down gracefully, barely making a sound.

“Anything else I can help with?” he asked eagerly. He’d rearrange the layout of the entire school if you asked him to—anything to make you happy!

Gojo: buying you gifts

Satoru was not the type to outright tell someone he had a crush on them. You know, the whole “love is the greatest curse of all” thing? He’d much rather ignore those feelings in hopes of them disappearing. So when he found himself fawning over you nonstop, he didn’t know the right way to convey his desire to connect with you on a deeper level. He might’ve been running on empty in regard to romantic skills, but his bank account was severely overflowing. He began to take mental notes on everything you looked at and put back while in Tokyo during your shopping trips and visited those places to buy all of it on his own.

“I got this for you.”

Satoru had several bags by their handles that he gently nudged toward you. Confused, you opened them, greeted by multiple items that you had taken notice of but didn’t have the funds to purchase. You didn’t remember Satoru even being there when you were browsing them in the first place.

“Satoru, how did you-”

“I pay attention more than people think,” he shrugged, glad to have his blindfold covering his eyes so you couldn’t see how they softened when they met yours.

“You didn’t have to do that, you know,” you said, trying not to cry tears of happiness.

He chuckled. “I know. You deserve nice things, though. If you can’t treat yourself, then allow me to.”

He was glad he turned infinity off to feel your arms wrap around his in a tight hug. Even if the words evaded him at the moment, he’d be sure to keep showing how much he cares for you by giving you things to remember him by.

Geto: taking you to the farmer’s market

“Come, y/n, I have a fun morning planned for us.”

Suguru had texted you and invited you to the local farmer’s market. You, of course, accepted readily, and now that he was here to pick you up, he was starting to feel a little nervous. Your friendship was a wonderful thing but Suguru craved to get to know you better and see if you shared the same romantic affections he was feeling toward you. He figured that going somewhere low key like a farmer’s market would be great to cultivate easy conversations. As you two walked together, admiring the handiwork of the local artists, you shivered from a cold breeze that kicked up. Suguru was quick to remove his outer layer and drape it over your shoulders.

“Oh, Suguru, I don’t want you to get cold.”

“I’m alright, I promise. I’d rather be a little chilly than see you freeze on my behalf. May I buy you a warm drink as well?”

After that, you were nice and toasty and he glad he could help in any way he could. When the market was closed and you two walked back home, you decided to make a visit here an every week occurrence. Suguru was sure that in a few weeks’ time, he’d prove to you that he’d be a great partner.

Nanami: cooking with you

Kento wasn’t sure how to approach the topic of his romantic feelings toward you. He valued straightforward communication, but he couldn’t find it within himself to outright express his desires for romance right now. Instead, he opted to show you he cared by inviting you over to cook a meal together. He had asked you to pick a recipe and went shopping for all the ingredients. Now that you were finally over at his place, he felt his palms getting sweaty as saw you chopping vegetables, looking extremely cute while doing so. You gave him a sweet smile when you noticed him staring and he quickly looked away, a blush apparent on his cheeks. You dropped the veggies into the hot pan and he started cooking them. You two worked well together, never in each other’s ways and able to partake in conversation while keeping the task at hand. When dinner was ready, you were ecstatic that everything tasted delicious.

“Is it alright if I ask you to join me again sometime soon?” Kento asked.

“I would love nothing more,” you replied sweetly, his stomach now teeming with butterflies.

Choso: stargazing with you

Choso had zero experience with any type of romantic love. He was the expert in familial loyalty, a prime example of being a great big brother, but being a boyfriend? Not his forte. However, his desire to woo you outweighed his nerves so that’s what led him to call you and tell you to meet him outside one night. He read online that looking at the stars is a good way to induce romance and he was determined to prove to you that he’d be a worthy partner. You were taken aback when you saw he had set up blankets on the ground and put out picnic baskets of snacks. He had even wrapped you up in another blanket so you didn’t get cold! Once you were settled, you both chatted about anything and everything as you gazed at the wonders of the night sky.

“Choso! A shooting star, quick, make a wish!”

It was quiet for some time.

“What’d you wish for?” he asked, breaking the silence.

“I’m not supposed to say or else it won’t come true,” you teased, nudging his arm. “What about you?”

He was studying the sky before he looked back at you. “I wished to keep having the privilege of sitting here with you as many days as I can.”

You felt yourself go shy at his confession but it certainly wasn’t unwelcome. After that, you had plans in place to meet up again in a few days to do it all over. Choso was hoping that his next wish would also come true—that he’d be confident enough to bring the true feelings of his heart to light.

Toji: inviting you to local music shows

There was nothing better to Toji than a cheap activity, an attractive person by his side, and the promise of alcohol. That’s what led him to extend an invitation to you to join him at a small concert being held by a band you both liked. When you met him outside the run down venue, Toji felt his heart rate pick up as he saw how good you looked. His calm and collected demeanor didn’t change a bit, though, as he lazily threw an arm over your shoulder and walked with you inside.

“This place is super cool, Toji,” you said, taking in your surroundings.

He smirked. “I knew you’d like it. Wanna get something to drink?”

Toji wasn’t known for having tons of money but he liked you enough to pay for the first round of your drinks. As the band finished setting up their equipment and started playing their first song, you had a blast dancing along while he kept stealing glances at you between sips of his drink, relieved that you were having fun. You were able to convince him to dance with you after a few more drinks (not that the drinks affected his decision making—he just couldn’t deny a request from someone as hot as you). As the night wound down and he walked you home, he felt an excitement spark in his heart that he hadn’t known in a long time. He hoped that one day he’d stop being a coward and tell you he really liked you, but for now, he’d be content just holding you in his arms—and definitely keeping an eye out for flyers with information for the next show.

[catgriffin]

I've heard a couple people argue against radioapple because it's mainly just sexualizing the two. While that is true for most of it. That doesn't mean it has to be. Because listen:

What if, in the final battle, Lucifer is taking on an entire army of angels for the sake of his kingdom, his daughter, and his new friends. Alastor watches helplessly as Lucifer had ordered him to stand by, because even Alastor would surely be killed. He watches as Lucifer is cutting down angels, they're dropping like birds shot out of the sky. Even so, their numbers become overwhelming and difficult to manage. Alastor, realizing the danger Lucifer's in, for the first time, feels concern.

Lucifer finally starts taking damage, the angels swarming him. Alastor's feet move before his brain has time to process what he's doing. Inky, black tentacles launch him into the sky, back to back with Lucifer, he uses shadows as a shield to protect Lucifer from an angelic spear headed straight for his heart. Why is he protecting him?

Alastor, one of the most feared overlords, a serial killer and cannibal, narcissistic, psychopathic, heartless, evil... finally started caring about someone else more than himself. Respect, strength and fame means nothing in that moment. Just that the first person he's ever loved is safe.

What if Lucifer's light finally chases away Alastor's dark thoughts, tendencies, and insecurities? White light that burns away the shadows. Lucifer holding Alastor in his weakest moment. Reassuring him it's okay.

What if Lucifer is the one that takes Alastor down from his high horse and helps him through his inevitable breakdown? What if Lucifer helps him break his deal? Lucifer, fighting to save Alastor and telling him it's okay to not be at the top.

What if Alastor helps Lucifer out of his depression, teach him how to move on from what I'm suspecting was bad past relationships? They get over their dad rivalry and work together to protect and teach Charlie.

Their relationship doesn't need to be sex, it's just love and care, something I think they could both benefit from. I think Lucifer is autistic and speaking as an autistic person quite a few of us are somewhere on the ace spectrum, I really don't think asexual alastor would be any kind of issue for Lucifer.

(Edit)HAVING SAID ALL THAT I think radioapple might be better as just fan art and such because although I'm not aroace myself I can understand wanting the representation because it's true there doesn't seem to be much of it out there. If it were to become canon I think it's safe to say a lot of people would be upset.

[its-avalon-08]

Hiiiii!! Can I request a daniel ricciardo x driver! reader? Like a grumpy! reader x sunshine! danny? with a hint of friends to lovers but the grid doesn’t know?

I was so excited to see someone open their request and can’t wait to read everythinggggg! Super grateful for the opportunity🫶 may you have a great time writing<3

Ps. It’s totally okay if this doesn’t get a response, I still look forward reading your other works ❤️

she's my grump

the monaco grand prix was always a whirlwind. the air crackled with champagne and exhaust fumes, celebrities swarmed the paddock, and for danny ricciardo, it was pure electric. but amidst the chaos, his gaze always landed on you, his secret weapon – literally and figuratively.

you, (y/n) (l/n), were the engineer who made his car a sleek, purring beast. you were also the complete opposite of him. where danny was sunshine personified, you were a sly smile and a dry wit, a black cat in a room full of golden retrievers. being slightly reserved whilst dating the man with the biggest smile would seem odd to others, but danny loved you in all your light.

"alright team!" danny boomed, his energy radiating as he clapped his hands. "let's make monaco ours!"

you, in redbull uniform, raised an eyebrow. "more coffee, sunshine?" you deadpanned, handing him a steaming mug.

he grinned, taking a swig. "thanks, (y/n). you're a lifesaver." he winked, then lowered his voice conspiratorially, "just remember, if we win, that victory shoey is all yours."

you snorted, a small sound that always tickled danny's heart. "just don't splash champagne on me and make sure you don't scratch the car."

he chuckled, leaning closer. "don't worry, love. i wouldn't dream of it." the last word was barely a whisper, sending a shiver down your spine. you were dating for a few months now, a secret you both fiercely guarded. it wasn't because you were ashamed, rather it was to protect both of your personal lives. you had been friends for seven years and dating for one year. all the other drivers loved you and saw you as a little sister. being the polar opposite of daniel, everyone thought you were a match made in heaven.

flashback

the cityscape of singapore twinkled below, a kaleidoscope of neon against the inky night. danny, relaxed after a podium finish, leaned against the balcony railing, a beer balanced precariously in his hand. you perched on a nearby chair, fiddling with a stray napkin. six years of friendship, countless late-night talks, and a simmering desire that threatened to boil over. tonight, you were determined to make a move.

"crazy race, right?" you started, your voice barely above a whisper. you hated how nervous you felt around him, a stark contrast to your usual sharp wit.

danny chuckled, the sound warm and inviting. "yeah, those final laps were a heart-stopper. but hey, at least i didn't get sandwiched between bottas and verstappen this time."

you managed a smile. "true. though, witnessing your car-handling skills under pressure is always a treat for the eyes." a teasing lilt crept into your voice, the one that usually made him laugh. but tonight, he just raised an eyebrow, his gaze holding yours.

"so," you continued, feeling a familiar heat creep up your cheeks, "about that victory dinner tomorrow night..."

"yeah?" he prompted, taking a swig of his beer.

"well, i was thinking, maybe we could..." you trailed off, the carefully rehearsed words dissolving on your tongue. frustration bubbled within you. why was this so hard?

"maybe we could what?" danny asked gently, his voice laced with a hint of concern.

you squeezed the napkin in your hand, the flimsy paper threatening to tear. "forget it. it's stupid."

"hey," danny said, setting his beer down and turning to face you fully. his eyes, usually sparkling with mischief, were now soft and serious. "nothing you say is stupid, (y/n)."

you looked away, overwhelmed by the intensity of his gaze. "except maybe what i was about to say."

a beat of silence stretched between you, thick with unspoken emotions. you felt a tear prick your eye, the frustration morphing into a strange mix of despair and defiance.

"look, danny," you blurted out, your voice shaky, "we've been friends for, what, six years now? we practically share a brain when it comes to the car. but lately... lately, things feel different."

he stepped closer, his presence a tangible warmth in the cool night air. "different how?"

you took a shaky breath. "i don't know how to say this. it's stupid, really. but..." you met his gaze, your voice barely audible, "i think i might be falling for you."

the words hung heavy in the air. a flicker of surprise crossed danny's face, then a slow smile spread across his lips. it was the most beautiful thing you'd ever seen.

"you think?" he said, his voice a husky whisper. he cupped your face in his hand, his thumb gently brushing away the stray tear that escaped your eye.

"maybe," you mumbled, your heart pounding a frantic rhythm against your ribs.

before you could say anything else, danny closed the gap between you. his kiss was soft, tentative at first, then deepened with a newfound urgency. it was a kiss filled with unspoken desires, a culmination of years of unspoken feelings. you melted into him, the familiar warmth of his friendship now tinged with a passionate intensity that left you breathless.

when he finally pulled away, his forehead resting against yours, you could hear the ragged rhythm of his breath.

"i think i might be falling for you too, (y/n)," he murmured, his voice husky with emotion. "a lot more than maybe."

a laugh, shaky but genuine, escaped your lips. relief washed over you, mingled with a newfound sense of joy. in the neon glow of singapore night, under the watchful gaze of a million twinkling stars, you knew this was just the beginning of something extraordinary.

end of flashback

the qualifying session was a nail-biter. you watched from the pit wall, your fingers unconsciously tapping a rhythm against the table. danny caught your eye, flashed a reassuring smile, and then was off, a blur of blue and red. when he secured pole position, the team erupted.

in the celebratory chaos, danny spotted you amidst the throng, a lone island of calm amidst the cheering. he weaved his way through the crowd, his eyes fixed on you. reaching you, he bent down slightly, a playful glint in his eyes.

"ready to celebrate, ms. genius ?" he asked, extending his hand.

you smirked, a playful jab back. "only if it involves avoiding exuberant displays of footwear."

he laughed, a sound that always warmed your heart. "no promises, love," he winked, then surprised you. his hand, instead of taking yours, brushed yours lightly, his pinky extending out and interlocking with yours.

you knew what it meant. a silent exchange in your secret language. a small gesture, easily missed by others, but to you, it was a secret handshake, a whispered affirmation in the middle of the storm. your own pinky curled around his, a silent promise. being a black cat dating the biggest golden retriever

the race was a heart-stopper. strategy calls crackled through your earpiece, fueling your anxiety. finally, the checkered flag fell, and danny emerged victorious. the roar of the crowd was deafening.

as danny jumped out of the car, his helmet still on, he scanned the crowd. his eyes met yours, and a wide grin split his face. he sprinted towards you, the cameras flashing around you. but he ignored them all, reaching you and scooping you into a tight hug.

"we did it, (y/n)!" he shouted, his voice muffled by your silky hair.

you hugged him back tightly, a surge of relief and pride washing over you. in that moment, under the watchful eyes of the oblivious crowd, you knew your secret weapon wasn't just the science behind the car. it was the sunshine-haired driver with whom you shared a silent language, a pinky promise, and a love that thrived even in the whirlwind of monaco.

the other drivers, who had long suspected something between you two, exchanged knowing glances. lewis hamilton raised a knowing eyebrow at max verstappen. "looks like ricciardo found his lucky charm," he remarked.

max just grinned. "more like his secret weapon."

🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️

i hope you enjoyed! happy reading <3 do send in more requests! as for pre existing requests- im working on it! lots of love ava

🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️

[wannaeatramyeon]

Seongji Yuk x Reader: Treats

G/N. Meeting Seongji for the first time.

"Your teeth are gonna fall out."

The monster of the mountain looks at you, face blank though eyes amused, tanghulu hanging from his mouth.

You've seen him enough times to know there's not much monstrous about him, apart from his overwhelming sweet tooth.

Rumours of this monster were grossly exaggerated.

Maybe you should have had more self preservation than to wander the mountainside when such tales persist. Yet when you found out the monster was a mere man, a mere boy close to your age, who seemed to have a penchant for sugary, syrup covered fruit-

You realised the only thing to fear was cavities and tooth decay.

Still. It helps to have someone with such a reputation on your side, you decide, as you toss over a pack of fruit gummies.

A hand shoots out and swiftly catches it.

(Six. You swore you saw six fingers on that hand.)

"Thought you might like these," you shrug as he gives you an odd look, "See ya!"

.

.

After the fifth pack of candies you threw at him, the guilt sets in.

You make your way through now familiar half hidden paths, searching for the monster.

He's there. Sitting in front of his giant wok, surrounded by freshly made tanghulu. Scents of sugar and caramel fill the air.

"You're here again," The words are spoken so quietly you almost missed them. His voice is softer than you expected.

"I bought you more things," you hold out a small plastic bag. He gives you the same look each time. 

"Open it," you encourage, shoving it more forcefully in his direction.

With little trust - which is somewhat unfair, you think, considering all the treats he has received from you - he takes the bag.

(Six. You know you saw six fingers on that hand.)

He opens it, peers in, face clouded with caution. Then-

Eyebrows shooting into his hairline, eyes widening almost comically, mouth forming an 'o'-

The tension breaks and he chuckles.

"It's one thing if all the tanghulu you eat rots your teeth, that's your own fault," You rub the back of your head self-consciously as he pulls out more fruit candies, as well as a new toothbrush, toothpaste, floss, mouthwash one after the other. "But if it's because of me then..."

"You're strange," he says, staring at you like you're a puzzle he can't quite figure out.

His words have no bite.

.

.

"Seongji Yuk," he eventually provides his name with reluctance. In exchange, you provide the rest of the banchan and rice to accompany his homemade kimchi.

(Your single braincell stopped functioning the first time you realised he does in fact eat something besides sugar.

It's endearing, this supposed 'monster' making his own tanghulu, making his own kimchi.

You kept comparing his recipe with your own before eventually he asked you to leave out of exasperation.)

"Well Seongji, your kimchi needs more saeujeot," It's not bad, it's just missing something.

"You don't have to eat it," he grumbles, swallowing down an extra big mouthful.

.

.

"So..."  You stall, elongating the word, letting it drift into the night. You don't really know Seongji well, hell you don't know him at all. Maybe it would be intrusive to ask.

You hear a rustling beside you. "So what?"

"So… you live on this mountain?"

"I do."

"Huh." You gaze out at the stars. It's a pretty peaceful existence, or it would be if not for Cheonliang. "On your own?"

"Yes."

"Do you ever get lonely?"

A beat. Then - "No."

Oh.

You turn to him and see his face blank but eyes amused. Messy hair and high cheekbones highlighted by the fire.

"Well I can visit you if I get lonely then."

There's a huff of laughter. Seongji knows he can't stop you anyway. He turns back toward the vast inky sky. Takes in the scattered stars. Feels the heat from the flames, a heat that settles into his cheeks.

A smile dances on his lips when he tells you "Okay."

[flamingpudding]

I just got done reading the prompt that I asked you about and it's wonderful thank you so much and if you're okay with it I'm here to help you make a part two but if you don't want to do that that's okay I'm just adding some bonus to it.

I'm just imagining Danny full Ghost King attire showing up with two things to cookies one with kryptonite in them cuz I love the head can of ghosts eating good tonight like candy and the other set a normal batch of chocolate chip cookies. Looking down Young Justice being like in the most Patrick electric entity sounding voice with a country accent "I'm so just the cutest oddiest little berries on the bush" (sorry just speaking in my little country Danny headcannon)

But I can also see Danny being embarrassing for Klarion. Danny sit down the two trains of cookies Evan just start hugging and kissing his son on his head like the embarrassing mom he is talking about how he's so skinny and he should eat more. Also really nice to Young Justice it's like them realizing they just might by the end of the day be adopted by enemies mom.

Justice League is getting to the location ready to fight and do what they can just for a Young Justice member with a cookie in hand to walk up and explain and tell them to play along for free cookies.

RedRobin badly wants to try one of the kryptonite cookies to see what it would do if he ate it. Klarion keeps stopping him because as much as he doesn't like them he doesn't want RedRobin to die.

Who I'm just adding on a couple of things really love your writing though oh yeah what are your pronouns so I can know to refer to you as just asking.

So glad you liked it and no problem i don't mind at all. I was thinking about adding a part two honestly. Well then lets continue the shenanigans. I hope this part two won't disappoint either. And out of courtesy for once added people who asked for tags in the comments. Don't get used to it. I usually don't to tags. This is an exception for this awesome prompt idea.

--------------

The moment a Lazarus green portal started to open in the Living Room, Red Robin suffered a small, probably slightly traumatic, flashbacks to all the times he had seen the Lazarus Pits, but before he could even react Klarion tackled him to the ground with a distinctive hiss of "Play alone." His friends, the traitors, had managed to doge Klarion. Impulse had simple used his speed to step aside and Superboy apparently had headed a warning. Wonder Girl hadn't even been in the path of Klarions tackle. So this was why Red Robin was currently the only one getting sort of wrestled and put into a headlock on the ground in a hold he knew he could easily get out of but was to distracted by the ceiling high, eldritch as well as royal looking being stepped out of it.

The portal closed behind that being and Red Robin swallowed seeing six eyes in inky black that mirrored the night sky blink down at them.

"Klarion?" The static voice ringed in their ears and from the corner of his eyes Red Robin saw Superboy flinch visibly.

"Mom! Your early!" Red Robins head hit the floor as Klarion suddenly let him go to greet the being that's apparently his mother. He glared at the witch boy for that as he sat up and rubbed his had.

"Oh my, sorry my dear." Superboy flinched again, and Red robin could hear Impulse whispering to Wonder Girl if he was the only one seeing four mouths talk at the same time. Klarion appeared to have it heard to as he send them a quick glare over his shoulder before turning back to his mother.

"Mom, could you tune down on the eldritch?" Red Robin blinked stunned before seeing the bing apparently blush green in embarrassment and its form changing until there stood a man, about Red Hoods height still with a floating crown and a royal cape, but at least more human like and resembling Klarion but with more blueish skin before them.

"Sorry baby, I thought my royal appearance would make a better first impression." The man pinched the witch boys cheek lovingly, to witch Klarion whined out a drawn out "Mom."

The four young heroes couldn't help but stare, was that seriously their villain Klarion? The one that tried to cause chaos and make their lives difficult on regular basis?

"Klarion. Why is there a magic barrier around your apartment." The man in royal clothing suddenly asked and they blinked seeing Klarion flinch and laugh nervously. "Oh you know mom, keeping the bonding in one place so other mortals won't be bothered." To which the man cooed. He cooed!

"Bonding? What bonding?" The four heroes echoed blinked and exchanged stunned and confused looks. Bonding? What Bonding? What were they talking about? Sure they hadn't gotten a lot of explanations out of Klarion before that portal opened and apparently his entire act about his mother visiting was the true. It was clear that the witch boy's mother was some kind of other worldly being but it looked like there was more to it. Also considering the royal like outfit and the grown.... did that mean that they had been dealing with a prince of some kind as villain the entire time.

Suddenly the man bristled turning to glare at them back in his eldritch form towering over them. "Are you telling me you mortals have been ignoring my sons bonding?! And that is why my son's bonds don't appear to be properly formed?!"

They flinched back staring at that being that was now back to locking eldritch horror like with a crown and royal cape. Their eyes were locked onto the being, only distantly they realised that Klarion was pulling on his mother hissing something that sounded very much just like static to their ears. It to a while longer but finally the being drew back staring what sounded like a static filled discussion with Klarion and Impulse was pretty sure he had been ready to sully himself if it had taken any longer,

Apparently Klarion and his mother finished their exchanged as they both turned to them, his mom now again more human like looking. "Mom these are my friends. The punk looking guy is Superboy the half alien, Red Robin the one in red and black, you know Dinner boy. Impulse from the Flash-Clan and Wonder Girl one of the Amazonian. Guys this is my mom, Ghost King of the Infinite Realms."

Red Robin couldn't help the eye twitch at his introduction, he also noticed that Impulse flinched back as the mans eyes locked onto him and he didn't need Superboy's confirmation of having heard a grumble about 'why did it have to be a speedster'. Great so this eldritch being, apparently King and most likely a danger and possible hostile did not like one of them already. Why did Klarion ask them to play pretend friends again?

"Well I will be, you have quiet the colourful and oddest batch of fleshy mortals here." The man grinned at them, that were sharp teeth the four heroes observed. "Titles are a bit stuffy, feel free to call me Danny kids. Now come here. I brought some cookies with me."

Before they knew it the four of them were seated on the couch with a huge plate of cookies on the coffee table before them. The four of them blinked at the two kinds of cookies. Impulse was already reaching out to them fearlessly but Wonder Girl had the foresight to stop their friend for the moment. Superboy on the other hand appeared to look quiet queasy and was slowly turning green to the worry of Red robin. They noticed Klarion turning towards his Mom when he took note of this. "Mom! I have a Kryptonian friend! Why did you bring cookies with kryptonite chunks! Look! Superboy is turning green just looking at them."

The Ghost King, now known by the name Danny to them, appeared to be waving his son. "Oh he will be fine in a moment its not enough to completely bother his species, he will just be more human like till you ate all of them. These ones are more for you anyway, you are way to thin lately." Danny then turned to them with a smile. "Please feel free to eat the chuckles chip once. I can guarantee they are human friendly. My sister helped me make them. She is a liminal human."

That was all Impulse needed to rip his wrist free and stuff the first of the chocolate chips cookies into his mouth. "They are good!"

Danny smiled at them satisfied, and with that out of the way started to make small talk with them while also embarrassing his son with occasional comments like. "Oh you should have seen when Klarion first got Teekl." Or "He nearly burned down our entire castle when he started actually learning magic." Or "He used to be such a grumpy adult until he deaged and became such a cute grumpy little baby boy. Want to see photos?"

They never got to see photos to Wonder Girls disappointment. Klarion managed to cut in between suffering embarrassment and glaring at them for encouraging his mother to tell more embarrasing stories and forced the portal, his mother was going to reach into for the photos, to close.

By now the teens have become more relaxed around Danny. The man had a friendly charm to him and genuinely showed an interest in them as well as in the well bing of his son. They could understand why Klarion didn't want to disappoint a parent like that. They snacked on the cookies and Red Robin watched with interest whenever Klarion and Danny reached for one of the cookies with green Kryptonite chunks. Danny had mentioned off handedly in one of his stories of Klarion that they both used to be normal humans. Red Robin was very interested in this right now.

Suddenly Superboy elbowed Impulse and Red Robin, having caught the movement turned to them with an arched eyebrow. "Mentors." The other mouthed to them and they sighed, of course their mentors would show up sooner or later. They shared a glance and Red Robin took on the task to subtitle inform Klarion since they were sitting next to each other when Impulse excused himself to a toilet break shortly.

Red Robin used that quick distraction to reach towards the cookie plate.

Meanwhile Impulse came to a stop in front of the front door stopped by his foot from slamming shut behind him again, thankfully Klarion had removed his magic barrier that could have made this difficult. He had one cookie in hand and grinned up at their mentors and the Justice League Dark members.

"Hi everyone!" He greeted them cheerfully, taking a bite of his cookie.

"Impulse? Are you okay? What happened?!" Flash was instantly on the teen checking him over for any sort of injury. They were prepared to fight since Deadman had reported the location where the Ghost King had appeared. They had chosen to halt their search for the missing teens for the moment but had paled when Superman had mentioned he was hearing their voices from the same location.

"Oh i am fine! Great even. Did you know that there are other dimensions that have melon flavoured chips?" Impulse easily answered grinning. "Also you might wanna dile back on the battle ready aura you guys radiate. Klarions mom is visiting, pretty awesome guy."

"Klarion? The witch boy?" Wonder Woman asked stunned to which Impulse nodded. "Yea, pretty nice guy. Ghost King of a dimension that holds everything together like glue. Kinda badass."

"Bloody fucking..." Batman glared at Constantine who swallowed the rest of his curse. "The hell you mean the Ghost King is badass? That a fucking tyrannical blood hungry war maniac!"

Impulse blinked at them. "Really? I mean he does have scary form that made me nearly piss myself but he is pretty chill. Awesome parent, we get why Klarion loves his mom so much now."

The blond Brite pinched the bridge of his nose letting out a suffering sigh. "Just let us in mate, we will deal with this before our dimension can kiss its arse goodbye."

Impulse appeared to be thinking for a moment before shaking his head. "Uh nope. We are having a good time actually. A nice break. Sooooo no!" Before Flash or anyone else could react impulse stepped back closing the door into their faces. They blinked stunned, Batman was the first to recover stepped towards the door to attempt to open it only for his lockpick to be deflected by a red barrier suddenly appearing. The man growled turning to glare at the Justice League Dark members with a silent comment.

Inside the apartment a little bit earlier....

Klarion snatched another green glowing cookie from Red Robins hands with a glare at the other teen, who only glared back. Danny was watching them amused feeling reminded of himself and Tucker by their interaction. But then his attention turned to Wonder Girl as she asked for another story about Klarions childhood.

A moment later Klarion felt a nudge and looked at Superboy who nudged him across a pouting Red Robin who got another green glowing cookie snatched from him. The witch boy arched an eyebrow when Superboy asked to recreated the barrier to keep their mentors out but did so the moment Impulse was back with them with already three new chocolate cookies in hand as he joined Wonder Girl in fishing for more stories.

[writtenbymoonflower]

Round

You hate your chubby cheeks and Sirius is deeply offended. Sirius Black x gn!reader. modern!au

cw: negative self talk, no specific body type but reader has a round face, swearing

1.1k words

You huffed as you took in your appearance, wishing you could blame the mirror, maybe it was warped, maybe it made you look different. But then your hand mirror would also be inaccurate, as well as the bathroom mirror, and store windows, or every reflective surface. You wished you could believe that level of delusion, but ultimately you were given over to facts, so you had to face the truth that your face just looked like that. 

You cruelly pinched at the flesh on your cheeks, under your eyes, and even around your jaw. You tried sucking in, then puffing out, but nothing made your face look defined in the way you desperately wanted. You just wished that your cheekbones had a little definition, but instead all you had was a round and puffy face. By now most people your age had dropped the baby weight in their cheeks, but you hadn’t, and no amount of contour or bronzer made them look sharper. You were still pinching at your face when your boyfriend walked in. 

“What’re you doin’ in here, dolly?” You dropped your hands like a child caught in the cookie jar, feeling caught.

“Nothin’” You said in quiet response. All Sirius did was hum before moving to stand behind you and lean over your shoulder, both of you in front of the mirror. You looked up to meet his eyes, but you weren’t able to him looking like he wanted to eat you alive, dropping eye contact almost instantly. He chuckled evilly. 

“Hm, so pretty.” You could hear the smile in his voice as he leaned over to kiss the same cheek you had scrutinized not seconds before and held in a wince. “Your cheek is all red, babydoll.” 

“Maybe you just make me flushed.” 

“No,” He laughed, “No baby, I know what that looks like, trust me. This is different. Besides, you look all sad.” He pouted when he said that, grabbing your face in one hand and kissing over more of your cheek before stepping away to sit on your bed. You swiveled in your chair to look at him. Well, at least be facing his direction, you kept your gaze strictly on your lap as you spoke.

“Siri?” You said hesitantly. 

“Yes, dolly?” He had pulled out his phone and was scrolling. 

“I- You know that surgery everyone’s getting? The face one?” 

“I think you’re gonna have to be more specific than that, dollface.” He still didn’t look up from his phone. 

“The cheek fat one. I-” You took a deep breath. “I think I want to get it.” That made him look up so fast you thought he might get whiplash.

“What?” He laughed. You would feel insulted, but you knew that Sirius only laughed like that when he was shocked or upset, his eyes were wide as he searched for any sign of you pranking or messing with him. 

“It’s just a thought.” You instantly backpeddled “I just thought it might be worth thinking about.” You said sheepishly.

“Well it’s not.” He laughed again, clearly not finding it funny. “What put that shit in your head?” You felt defensive. 

“I just think my face is too round. I look like a blowfish or something.” You forced a laugh. 

“What? No?” He stood up from the bed and stepped over to you, crouching down to meet your eyes. Only after he saw your sad expression did he soften. 

“I just-” You debated the right words. “I just think I would look better if my cheeks were more hollow. There’s just so much-” You pinched at the flesh of your cheeks. “There’s so much fat on them, I look like Charlie Brown.” 

“Okay firstly, I don’t know who that is, but if they look like you I’m guessing they’re adorable.” You rolled your eyes. “Secondly, I love your face. It's my favorite. Stop being so mean to it.” 

“But you don’t know what it’s like." You whined. "Your face is perfect, all of you is.” And you meant it. Sirius always looked like he could be carved from marble. He had a perfectly structured face, gorgeous eyes framed by too-long-to-be-fair lashes, and inky black hair. He looked like a model on a bad day. On a good day you could barely bring yourself too look at him.

“Compliment taken.” He smirked, displaying his shiny and sharp canines. “But you aren’t giving yourself enough credit, gorgeous.” He looked so distraught, it didn’t suit him at all. He batted your cruel hands away from your cheeks to grab your face instead. “Just because your face is round doesn’t mean you are any less beautiful.” He said, sincerely. You tried to look down but his grip didn’t let you. “If I’m being honest actually, your cheeks are one of my favorite parts of you.” 

You scoffed at him. “You can’t be for real.” 

“I am, baby!” He argued. He started to pinch your cheeks, though much kinder than you were. “They’re so cute.” He pouted. “I know you don’t like them, and I don’t wanna draw attention to it if it’s gonna bother you,” He stood up, tilting your face up to look in his eyes, swimming with sympathy, love, and a hint of playfulness. “But, I think they’re fucking precious. I just wanna grab your little face every time I see you. You’re like a little cherub.” You laughed. It’s not the look you were going for, but the way he described it didn’t seem so bad, especially not when there was affection dripping from every word he spoke. 

“You’re really sweet.” Was all you could say, standing up to hug him. He accepted you greedily, squeezing you close to him.

“I wish you saw how gorgeous you are, baby.” He nuzzled into your neck. You thought you could cry.

“It’s okay, I know you love me, it’s enough.” You pulled away from his neck to look at him. 

“Yeah, at least for now.” He smiled, leaning down to press his lips to yours. You kissed him back, hoping he could feel your gratitude. “Anyway,” He said when he pulled away. “There’s a practical advantage I really like.” He was all at once his usual wolfish self, giving you no time to question his meaning before speaking again. “More face for me to love.” He spun you both around, throwing you onto the bed and pinning you down before squishing your cheeks in his hands and sponging rapid-fire kisses all over your face. 

You let out an awful squeal of surprise. “Siri!” You giggled, barely able to speak between attacks. He looked at you hungrily before kissing you greedily, pulling a high-pitched whine from your throat.

“I think you like it too, dollface.”

[sanriothot]

SHOWER SURPRISE

Dick Grayson x Female! Reader

Summary: You try joining Dick in the shower for some time together and it backfires.

Warning: SMUT! NSFW! 18+ ONLY! MINORS DNI OR YOU WILL GET BLOCKED! hickeys, oral (m receiving), pet names (babe + baby), please don’t do sexc time in the shower, you might hurt yourself ☹️ also no beta, we die like robins

Word Count: 1,168

A/N: look at me, two fics a couple days apart! I saw a writing prompt with this plot years ago and i’ve always wanted to write it! I just wanted to let everyone know that requests are open! I’m still working on finishing work from my drafts but I don't mind working on other ideas. just make sure to check faq before requesting. Ofc reblogs and replies are always appreciated 💖

This wasn’t part of your plan. Not part of the plan at all.

You scrambled out of the freezing cold shower and clambered for your bathrobe that hung on the door of your shared bathroom. Water dripped all over the floor but you were more focused on getting warm.

“Baby?!” Dick gasped, it was hard to miss the shock in his voice. His head popped out from behind the sliding shower door, his eyes wide and jaw already on the floor. “Are you okay?”

Your eyes glaze over at his muscular frame, only slightly obscured by the frosted glass of the shower door. it’s not like you haven’t seen him undressed before but you can’t help but to ogle at him with no shame.

You wanted to surprise Dick by joining him for his post-patrol shower. Help him get off the sweat and grime from a long night and maybe get him dirty in a different way. But you forget one key piece of information.

Dick typically takes cold showers after patrols.

“Yes, just-“ Goosebumps sprinkled across your dark skin, most of it still exposed despite how tightly you wrapped yourself up in your bathrobe. You caught yourself almost letting your teeth chatter while continuing to speak to your boyfriend. “Just so cold.”

“Come back in, I’m gonna warm up the shower.” Dick moves towards the faucet of the walk in shower. A squeak rings out as it turns and slowly the bathroom mirror begins to fog up from steam.

“C’mon, Babe,” He stretches his arm out for you.

You strip your robe off slowly. It’s not like Dick is lying about warming up the shower but that small part of your mind still can’t get over the shock of the cold water. You fully expect to get drenched with bone chilling water for the second time tonight.

“I promise, it’s warm, baby.” As if he could read your mind (or just read your body language, being that he was adopted by the world’s greatest detective).

You step in the shower once again now greeted by warm water and the sweet smile of your boyfriend.

“There you are. I really thought you were going to ditch me for a second.”

You took the suds covered loofah from out of his hand and gently ran it across his chest. You giggle to yourself before answering “Almost did.”

You and Dick go through your entire shower routine together, occasionally sprinkling in small talk on how your day went.

Soon, You’re rinsing each other off, the soap swirling down the drain. Dick drags his hands up and down the sides of your body, the water running down the both of you. He’s completely smitten with you after feeling so well taken care after a long night.

He leans in, dusting kisses across your face, making it distracting you from rinsing the soap from his inky black hair. He’s teasing you. Each kiss, you think he’ll finally kiss on your lips but the kiss lands somewhere else instead.

After a while, you had enough of his game. you tangle your fingers into his hair and guide his lips to yours.

Dick let out a whimper, he pressed your body against the shower wall, deeping this kiss. His hands roamed your body, fingers massaging your ass and the other hand squeezing your boob. He kisses the corner of your mouth, to cheek and then your jawline. Finally, he works his way down your neck, kisses getting sloppier as he goes. Your breaths get deeper while he sucks on the crook of your neck, grazing his teeth on it before dragging his tongue. Your neck is covered in hickeys but couldn’t care less, the only thing on your mind is making sure you and Dick have a great time and enjoy the moment.

“I need to know if you want this,” Dick says.

You look into his baby blue eyes with so much excitement. “I want this.”

“On your knees, now.”

You slowly drop to your knees, making sure to steady yourself as not to fall on the tile floor. His dick already hard, your fingers wrap around it, giving him a couple pumps. You let your tongue swirl on the tip, getting a taste of the precum that was already leaking out. Your lips work its way past his tip, taking your sweet time to suck him off.

“I know you can take it or am I too big for you?” You both lock eyes as he smirks, clearly teasing you.

And at the moment, you thought fuck taking your sweet time.

Your hands move to his thighs and squeeze them, letting your nails slightly dig into his skin to ground. You increase your speed, head bobbing with all caution thrown out. Your mind was already made, you were determined to work your way down his shaft. Coaxing more moans and whimpers out of Dick as you continue sucking him off. You can’t help but to moan at the filthy sounds you were making in the process.

You got yourself as close to his hilt as you could, your mouth adjusting to his size before Dick grabs the back of your head and thrusts.

“That’s right. Every inch of me.” He groans out.

You're completely at his mercy, your mind can only focus on how good this feels while you deep throat him. He slowly pulls out before thrusting again and again, working up to steady pace to fuck you to. He was kidding about taking every inch of him because god, you could feel how big he was. Your eyes glassy as a mix of drool and precum drips down your chin, trying your best not to choke.

“Don’t stop, baby. I’m so close-“ He moans, his hips rutting into your mouth, his self control slipping. Each trust was getting sloppier than the last. The water from the shower runs down every crevice of his toned body. He can help but babble about how great you feel and how much he wants you, his mind already blessed out.

And that’s when it happens. One last thrust that kisses the back of your throat. Dick moans and pants, his chest rising and falling as he fills your mouth with his hot sticky cum.

You mew, making sure to suck every last drop before your lips let go with a pop. You’re already aware that you probably look like a hot mess. Saliva and leftover cum that you couldn’t swallow running down your mouth. Your pupils are blown out with stray tears. And if it wasn’t for the shower cap you had on, you know hair would’ve been ruined too.

But you didn’t mind at all, loving making Dick a wreck.

Dick leans over, twists the faucet off.

“C’mere, I’m not done with you.” He pulls you up to feet again, cupping your face before diving in for another kiss. His tongue brushes past your lips to get a taste of you and himself.

[schoenpepper]

All Sorts of Love

Intro: Kalim hasn't felt this kind of love before.

Warnings: bad writing, awful grammar, proofread by quillbot, yandere, one google translated arab word

A/N: For that one anon I hope you like this because I have spiralled into "what kind of yandere would Kalim be" and boyyyy I tried. I don't like the ending too much though. But honestly I feel like even if he was yandere he'd still turn to Jamil, right? They're like overly codependent. Also had way too much fun with the colors.

Masterlist

Kalim knows what love is.

Growing up, he'd been surrounded by a lot—maybe too much of it. From his parents to his siblings, he was spoiled, adored, and loved. He used all that love and poured it into himself like a valve, letting it flow right back to the world from within his body. He loves the sun, the sky, and his family; he loves his friends, the sea, and the wind as it ruffles his hair when he's on a magic carpet ride. He loves you.

Because you're his friend too.

He looks at the page in his notebook. One hour into Trein's lecture, and it's void of actual notes—only your name, little chibi doodles of you, and little hearts surrounding everything. He thinks you're so cute. He's glad that you two are friends and that you're so close with him. He has lots of friends, but you're different. Because you're best friends, like Jamil!

(Jamil denies it sometimes, but he doesn't mind. Jamil is still the closest person to him, even after the whole inky disaster.)

The bell rings, and he sweeps everything from his desk right into his bag. Jamil has basketball practice today, so hey, maybe he can hang out with you! You like hanging out with him, right? A happy tune is on his lips as he walks out of the classroom, his feet leading him towards the first years' classes. Your dismissal for this class was about thirty minutes later than his own, so he sits down on a bench and sways his feet, waiting patiently.

(He memorized your schedule so you guys can hang out more!)

He can't do much while waiting, except for playing on his phone. He sees a picture you'd posted on Magicam yesterday and clicks the like button—it's of the two of you, so he comments with a 'WE LOOK SO GOOODDDD' and saves the image, using it as his screen wallpaper. The background was the amusement park he'd begged you to go to with him, cotton candy swirls in your hands as you stood together with happy smiles. Jamil took the photo, which is great! Because for some reason, even though the two of you are his best friends, he doesn't like the thought of Jamil standing next to you or doing as he did in the picture and feeding you a piece of his cotton candy. Just thinking about it made him upset. He doesn't like feeling upset, so he doesn't want to think about it anymore.

The bell rings, and the freshmen pour out of their classrooms like a swarm of insects. Several Scarabia first-year students greet him, and he smiles in turn, while his ruby-red eyes scan the crowd for your figure.

Too short, too tall, wrong hair color, wrong hair texture—ah!

It's you.

"Y/N!" Kalim all but runs over to you with the widest smile on his face, almost bowling you over to the ground with his hug.

"Kalim!" You smile back just as happily, ignoring Grim, who'd fallen to the ground from your shoulder. Kalim beams brighter when he feels your arms wrap back around him, and he stays still until Ace speaks up.

"Uh, are you guys gonna keep hugging, or can we get going?"

"Right! Y/N, come with me, okay? I wanna show you something." He knows you'll fall for his wide, pleading eyes when he asks the question. As expected, you only nod and follow him, leaving Grim with the two Heartslabyul boys with promises of tuna when you pick him up later.

Kalim holds your hand the whole time as he pulls you back to Scarabia. He listens to how your day went with all 110% of his attention span, letting you finish your story before opening the storage room door. "Huh? What are we doing here, Kalim?" He giggles and runs with you over to one corner. He doesn't like that he has to let go of your hand, but he dives headfirst into the mountain of gold to try and find the thing he's looking for. He pulls a small box out of the pile and collapses to the floor, out of breath. "Uh, are you okay?" You ask, barely holding back your laughter.

"I'm okay!"

He loves seeing you laugh. He thinks you shouldn't hide it.

"So what did you want to show me?"

He stands back up and opens the box. Inside is a gold bracelet with little heart-shaped rubies, the same color as his eyes. "This! I just remembered that my parents sent it with me when I got into NRC. It was my jida's. Do you like it?"

You smile and admire the bracelet.

But you never touch it.

"It's gorgeous, Kalim."

"Great!" He fumbles a little bit as he takes it out of the box, gesturing for your hand. "I'll put it on for you!"

"What? No, I can't accept that, Kalim."

"Please! They told me to give it to an important person, and you're very important to me," he insists. You look at him hesitantly, but still refuse. "That's different, I don't think they mean that kind of important, Kalim."

"Y/N...am I not important to you?"

Finally, finally, you waver and fold. You let him put the bracelet on you. He can't help himself; he intertwines your fingers with his own as he admires the way it sits on your wrist. He can almost imagine the way his own grandmother had worn it in the past. She must've looked beautiful, but he thinks no one could ever compare to you. You two sit down on some random carpet in the store room as he continues to appreciate how it shines on your skin, his thumb subconsciously rubbing circles on your hand. When he looks back at your face to say something, he freezes for a few seconds. 

You're looking at him so...adoringly.

Eyes soft and sweet, like honey is swirling within your irises. Your lips are slightly parted, as if you're hesitating to say something, and your grip on his hand is tightening. He watches you take a deep breath and speak.

"Kalim," you say his name like it's nothing he's ever heard before. "I like you, as more than a friend. No, Kalim, I love you."

And for once, he doesn't know how to respond to this love.

For all the love given to him by his parents, his ancestors, his siblings, his cousins, his human friends, his animal friends—none of it had prepared him to be loved by you, no, not like this. He loves you. But... as a friend.

Right.

Because loving you like that, what would it mean? Would it let you spend more time together or less? Would you smile at him or fight with him more? What does that kind of love entail?

He likes your friendship.

So, "Can't we just stay friends?"

He sees your heart crack from the way you look at him, how you pull away, and how you immediately unclasp the bracelet and put it back in his hands. There are tears streaming down your face and leaving trails down your cheeks as you speak, and your voice is so shaky that he feels so bad for what he said. But he can't take it back. "Okay, I'm, I'm so sorry." You stammer out through choked sobs as you stand up and start to walk away.

"Hey, Y/N!" He tries to go after you, but you break out into a full run before he can do anything.

Maybe he should leave you alone for a while. With all the thoughts in his mind that he can't make sense of at the moment, maybe he needs that alone time just as much as you do.

He sighs.

First Jamil, now you.

(Since when has friendship been so hard?)

The 'alone time' takes at least three days.

By the fourth day, Kalim is ready to be your friend again. He can't handle the awkward glances or seeing your teary eyes just the day after the incident, but he can't leave you forever! You're his best friend, and he wouldn't lose you over this. He'd thought that after giving you some space, you would bounce right back and maybe go on a magic carpet ride with him again.

So...why are you still avoiding him...?

He'd lost sleep over the past three days, lost focus. Jamil had been on his tail about homework and projects. But he's so distracted. Where are you? What are you doing? Are you okay now?

Do you still love him?

He walks over to your cafeteria table, where you're seated with your friends. "Y/N!" He's blocked by a very angry Grim, hissing and all fur standing on end. He's so confused when Ace and Deuce try to get him to leave, when Epel is glaring at him, when Jack is hiding you behind his muscled figure, when Ortho is just quietly scanning him, a strange red laser pointing to his forehead, or when Sebek is yelling at him that you don't want him around.

Do you really...not want him around?

He's pulled away by Jamil when Ortho's eyes start glowing red.

Why are you avoiding him why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why

He doesn't like it when you avoid him.

Don't avoid him, please.

You're taking longer, more inconvenient routes, if only to steer clear of the path he takes. Your friends guard around you in the cafeteria, and days turn to weeks, and Kalim is...okay.

He's okay.

(Jamil finds him sobbing in his sheets in the middle of the night, crying out your name.)

He's okay when he sees you gradually brightening up again. He's okay when he finds you're slowly talking to him again, but not treating him like a friend. He's super okay and totally fine when he sees you spending more and more of your time with Deuce alone, just the two of you. And he's great when he notices the boy's blushing, awkward movements, similar to what you used to do in Kalim's presence.

Come back to him please Y/N please please please come back why won't you come back he's your best friend right why won't you come back Y/N Y/N Y/N Y/N

"Do you like Y/N?"

Kalim's feet are swinging off the edge of the balcony as he leans back on his arms. His gaze stays on the fountain in the middle of the dormitory, clearly lost in thought, before being brought back by Jamil's question. He doesn't need to think twice about his answer. "Of course! They're my best friend too, so it's a little upsetting that they're not hanging out with me anymore."

"No." Jamil rolls his eyes. "More than a friend."

"I don't think so."

"Really?"

Kalim nods.

(It's okay that he wants to be your best friend, your only friend, right?)

"Kalim, let's get this straight, okay? I don't want to see you sulking anymore. You're in love with Y/N." Jamil puts both hands on Kalim's shoulders, stooping a little lower to look him in the eye. "Do you want to be with Y/N all the time? Do you want to touch them? Kiss them, maybe? Do you feel annoyed when you see them with other people? Do you hate the thought of a future without them by your side, like you can't even stand it? Kalim, yes or no, are you in love with Y/N?"

Kalim feels like he's just been dunked in a vat of ice water.

"I love them that way?" he asks softly.

Jamil shakes him lightly. "Imagine you saw Deuce kissing the—"

Oh. Okay. So he loves you after all.

"Kalim!"

He never even noticed the heavy rain that suddenly started after Jamil said those words. It's his magic; he can feel it, but Oasis Maker is out of his control, and he doesn't feel like stopping it. "Sorry Jamil, I just, I can't imagine it." He's crying, why is he crying? Is it because he hates the thought so much that it makes him want to—

You wouldn't kiss Deuce no no you wouldn't you wouldn't why would you kiss him do you like him does he like you have you moved on do you not love Kalim anymore please love love love love love why would you do that don't abandon him he loves you too so please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please

"Jamil?" Kalim holds onto his retainer's wrists. "Do you think...Y/N still loves me?"

"I don't know, Kalim."

"If they don't love me anymore," Kalim smiles, it's a little desperate, but mostly, it's pained. The corners of his lips twitch as his grip on Jamil's wrists tightens. "Will you help them remember how much they love me?”

[forthelostones]

𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐟𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 ➺ 𝐣𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐚𝐥 𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐫𝐲 #3

anderson construction and landscaping had been parked outside your door since you returned home from university. as if the summer couldn't get any hotter, the business owner works overtime in your area. anderson is collecting new, loyal clients of your neighbors, cementing her permanence in your life for the next few months. what's to come of your girlish crush when she keeps showing up?

𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜. 18+ (mdni); age-gap, young!reader, older!abby, butch!abby, slow-burn, suggestive language, thoughts of infidelity, ellie ft, smoking/drinking, mentions of parents, nickname: sweetheart, and modern au.

𝚊𝚗. everyone wow thank you so much for the love on for your eyes only! it means so much. here’s something a little different, hope you enjoy. any requests don’t hesitate to drop ‘em, xx jstar.

♫ 𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚢𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝. what a diff'rence a day made by dinah washington ♫

Today had been overwhelming, to say the least, you thought to yourself as the woman bent over the center consul to retrieve something out of her bag. Her ass was firmly hugged by the cargos she wore and you had the temptation to press your hips against her. You found your lips back between your teeth only to relieve them as she looked down at you. Her mouth was slightly damp from the swipe of a tongue before she spoke. This was fucked up, right? Ogling over a woman older than you but more so another woman when you had Ellie. 

“Should I bring anything?” You asked. 

“Just yourself, a few pictures and I’ll bring my research too.” 

She leaned against the shining truck with such machismo that it made you want to submit to her. Ellie never made you feel that way. Was it the heat causing the delirium?

“Okay. I’ll see you tomorrow then.” You mutter, trying to think of something other than her arms and how they’re delicately crossed enough to lift and frame her petite breasts. 

She raised her eyebrows to say a quiet goodbye with a side smirk and you avoided her eyes and continued walking. A weight sank to the bottom of your ankles making it seem like you were slugging through mud. Abby looked more excited pounding a nail into wood than speaking to you. Her face had a general exhaustion as if she was translating adult words to a baby. For the first time since being home, you wished the neighborhood had a little more clamor to distract you from the turmoil pooling in your brain. 

꒰ঌ ໒꒱

Ellie was in your shower, washing the dirt from today’s job off her body. The door was open and the pale bubbles on her skin should entice you to jump in with her. But you just watched and wondered what was changing? When you first got together all you wanted to do was be in her skin. Generally, it felt good to be with Ellie. To know that you can achieve a level of companionship with someone else was accomplishment enough. 

“Hey,” she hollers over the falling water. “C’mere.” 

The drop of her voice was soft like her wet hair with shampoo still looped between her inky strands. 

“El, turn around.” 

She turns without hesitating, as you tilt her chin back to rinse out the suds. She opens her eyes and brings her lips to yours. For a moment it does feel good. Her mouth is slick and warm. Ellie's hands come to your shoulders, wet with body wash as she deepens the kiss. Although the water splashes onto the floor, you don’t care, it’ll be replaced soon anyway. Your mind dots off to think about Abby in your bedroom this morning. It was foreign seeing her in a space where you never imagined her to be. She looked out of place but had the potential to fit in. 

Ellie laces her hands behind your neck, tongue sliding inside with no force. She moans gently into your mouth and you bring your hand to her darkened crotch. Her kiss became carnivorous at the sudden action. Nails sharpening into skin, barring her teeth, and soggy smacking. It had been so long since you initiated any contact with her. The groan that vibrated off the walls showed that too. 

“I love you.” She whispers into your ear. 

Her mouth lingers there, waiting for your response, but something chokes you up. Like a cough or a sickened throat. “You’re my everything El.” You reply. 

It wasn’t a lie, you loved Ellie for everything she was. But you knew she could sense a change in your behavior and you hoped that this orgasm you were giving to her would hold off her suspicion. 

Ellie looked out the window and watched the neighbors follow their decades-old routines. She liked their displays of solitude and never failed to tell you about how she wanted that too. You came up beside her, holding the small of her back, peering towards the line of cherry trucks, wondering what Abby was up to now. Ellie turns to place a welcoming kiss on your cheek with her hand following shortly behind. 

“I’m sorry.” She said. 

“Ellie, what?” 

“I’m thinking too far into the future. I know I need to be present with you.” 

You scoff. “I’m just a little stressed. Has nothing to do with you, you're perfect.” 

“Let's talk,” 

You both travel to the bed and she takes your fingers into her hands. 

“It’s a lot. I just want to be here with you.” You lean in to kiss her. 

“You can tell me anything. I’m here for you.” 

It was unusual for you to put yourself onto Ellie like this but you did, again. Pulling her pants to the floor after you got up and locked the door. You wanted her to shut up and three fingers were the solution. You closed your eyes with your face buried into her hot collarbone, wishing it was someone else’s, not particularly Abby’s but not Ellie’s. A rupture of tears threatened to spill over as Ellie came to a climax, covering her mouth with a quivering hand. She turned to you just before any tears fell as you excused yourself to the bathroom. 

You started to think about the conversations you and Ellie had often, which always led to the same thing. Someone gripping the bed frame and falling asleep to do it again the next day. Even with Ellie snoring on your shoulder amongst the orchestrated noises of bird chirps and lawnmowers, all you could think of was your meeting with Abigail tomorrow.  

The night seemed long as you carefully removed Ellie from your body to tidy your room. It was more than embarrassing that Abby came into your room and almost fell over because of the mess. You didn’t have the will to start unboxing your college life because that meant it was time to face reality. As you sorted the items, you thought about what someone like Abby enjoyed doing outside of working 10-hour days. Obviously, she worked out, probably more out of necessity to keep her figure at her age. What else did she like? Your hands dust off a cover of Carmilla, and you stifle your laugh as you recall the story of blood lust and women. Ellie never understood your desire to read. She didn’t understand much about you, not that you wanted to think about that often. 

Dating someone who took the trade school route versus college has created tension in your relationship. Ellie was a smart girl who knew what she wanted but never related to your stress in college. She was street smart, not book smart. When midterms rolled around you had to explain to her the importance that you two keep distance so you can focus. She accused you of desiring a connection with college more than her. She was insecure that you got to experience something she always imagined. Before you two were dating she would sit in the bar and brag about how she didn’t need school to be successful, as a way to flirt, but it came off as ignorance. So, that translated in various ways such as conversations about your career, the relationship, and even books.

She would kiss your neck to get the attention back on her when you read before bed. When you playful shoved you away that’s when she’d ice you out for hours. It was exhausting. Ellie wanted you to be hers in a different way. She did celebrate you and you appreciated that but there was an unspoken desire for you to be her wife in a traditional sense. She wanted you to follow her, no matter what. She was shocked when you denied her immediate advances to move away with her for the new job. 

“I thought you loved me? I thought we were going somewhere?” Her brow furrowed. 

“We are, I promise but I can’t just do what you want and not discover who I am before settling down.” 

I’m your idea of settling, huh? She said quietly to herself but you pretended not to hear her.

“I want us to be together. I don’t like that long-distance shit, okay?” 

You wanted to challenge her more but just sat quietly and you two didn’t speak on it for the rest of the day, proceeding as if what happened didn’t warrant more conversation. Shortly after Ellie's hands were between your legs to apologize. That's just the way you two operated.

Ellie stirs under the loose sheet and you dart your eyes over to her. You pull out more books and line them up against the wall getting startled by your phone vibrating on your side table.

1:30 AM: Would it be a bother for you to provide some shades of black and gold with your findings too? 

You look at Ellie with her mouth open and body pressed deeply into the mattress before replying. Normal business hours were not a thing to Ms. Anderson, obviously. A message at 1 am caused you to squirm a little, and a shocking edge of exhilaration coursed through your body. Any normal person would simply reply in the morning but it wasn’t as simple as that. 

1:32 AM: not at all. 

1:32 AM: Thank you :) 

Your eyes become one with the typed emoticon. As if Abby's eyes are the colons and pooling deep blue right before you. Something so simple but it made a part of you grin. A rush came through your body as you looked out the dark window, hoping she'd magically appear outside your window, and beckon you to come outside. Such immature thoughts, you whispered to yourself.

1:34 AM: no problem, have a good night. 

She just left the message on read. That feeling you had vanished quicker than it came. That was stupid, you thought as Ellie mumbled a string of unintelligible words. She sits up, stretching her legs by throwing her feet over the edge of the bed and shuffling over to you. You lock your phone and place it back in its original place, face down. 

“Come on, I need you. I just got so cold.” She demands, holding your waist.

You didn’t tell Ellie about the consultation with Abby, it wasn’t needed. She would be at work and you’d go to her place just after the meeting. You didn't feel compelled to share, so you didn't. To keep yourself busy you broke down all the leftover boxes and took them outside to the recycling. Only one truck was parked on your street. You shrugged like you didn't care but you grew curious about where Ms. Anderson spent her morning.

Abby’s office was only thirty minutes away and you drove slow to not seem as eager and still arrived on time. A large bubble felt as if it was going to pop any moment when you saw her truck in the driveway. Her office was her house. She lived at the peak of a dead-end road covered by the twinkling of leaves above her home. Any normal person would let the collection of branches and acorns rot in the street but as a woman who owns a landscaping business, it was the opposite. Even the carving of the bushes left you in awe — you couldn’t believe you suddenly took such an interest in bushes. She had the address printed onto a rectangular yard lantern surrounded by a pool of ruby-red roses. It was beautiful. 

The door swings open as you’re tilted downwards smelling the flowers in front of you. You were slightly embarrassed she caught you and removed your hand from the stem. She squints with what you see is a small grin and welcomes you in. The scent emitting from her house is syrupy vanilla and pine. A combination that's pungent yet sweet. Abby is wearing dark blue jeans and a white button-down shirt with her skin exposed underneath, just shy of two undone buttons. Against the white linen, her skin is specked with brown freckles that deepen her slightly warm skin. Her hair had been brushed and bone straight with grown-out layers you didn’t get to see with her hair up. 

“Hope it wasn’t too scary finding the place.” She says, being the personification of sunshine. 

You look down at her feet, covered in Superman socks hidden under the cuff of her long jeans. 

“Not at all, it’s nice that you have this little section of the neighborhood all to yourself.” You add, slipping your shoes off in front of the entrance. Her body is warm behind yours as she moves to close the door. Her living room was small but the floor-to-ceiling oak bookshelves were an impressive use of space. The couch is in the middle of the room, peeling with softened worn leather. Instead of a TV, there was an out-of-commission fireplace with a mantle above it. There were a few photos in mismatched frames and stacked books with titles you could not read. 

“I was super lucky when I found it.” 

You were scared to turn to her but finally did. With her hands on her hips, she nodded for you to follow her into the other room. You took a swift look into her kitchen before turning left down the hallway to her office. It was painted a pale yellow with black and white portraits in black frames of houses she remodeled. The large wooden desk was pushed against the far wall, peering over the backyard. The sun shuttered through the leaves casting a beautiful shadow onto the healthy, neon-green lawn. Abby built the fence and had a garden bed in the far corner, a compost hidden near a bush, and one lone white lounge lawn chair in the middle of it all. Another wall of books crowded the room with words on architecture and lifestyle. 

“I would love to live here,” You mutter, turning towards Abby leaning in the door frame. She admires her handiwork which makes you wonder how much of this house she remodeled. “Seems… peaceful.” 

“It is when you can enjoy it. I’m looking to move out of the hands-on position to being the big boss behind the desk.” 

“I am sure you’ll have no problems with that.” You reply, observing the plain floorboards to avoid her eyes. 

“Would you like something to drink?” She asks. 

You notice her thumbs rotating within each other and her mouth twisting as she asks you the question. You welcome whatever she’d like to bring you, hoping it was wine to loosen her, but knowing it wouldn’t be. But seeing her so casually made you relax a little. You sat at her desk, legs crossed, looking at the seclusion of her life. This was a level of solitude you could become accustomed to. 

“Arnold Palmer. I hope you like it. One of my neighbors has a lemon tree and she brings them to me all the time, so it may be a bit tart.” She reaches behind you to place the glass on your right side, the flowing linen brushes your back gently, leaving you desiring more. She pulls out another chair and a folder stuffed in the drawer with your last name on it. 

“So, black and gold?” She asked, with a joking charisma. 

You bring the glass up to your lips and turn to her, swiping your tongue on your tangy bottom lip. The brush of your knee against her thick pants makes you retract and slide further back on the chair to create a professional distance. Up close her eyes twinkled under the warm light stretching through the window. You felt a pool quake beneath you. Suddenly you wished you didn’t put yourself in this position. So close to her, in her home, with lingering thoughts of her bedroom plaguing your mind. You imagined all-white bedding with many soft pillows and two bedside tables. A large window overlooking the front yard and sheer blue curtains. Maybe even a small desk in the corner stacked with old books. 

“Is that boring to you?” 

“What? Black and gold? I mean no, it’s not about me.” She shrugged. 

“But I value your professional opinion.” You retort. 

Her icy eyes widen at the comment, either shocked by your directness or desire to hear what she has to say. You wipe your forehead with the back of your palm and direct your gaze to the folder in front of you. 

“Okay well, I think you should go for something more unique. Fun tiling, I can definitely have a custom vanity put in there, a standard upright shower.”

You blinked and suddenly she had a pencil in her hand, sketching on a blank sheet of graphing paper. Her lines were loose but neat, you watched how the tip of her index finger guided the graphite on the thin sheet.

[klaus-littlestwolf]

(The drawings/tattoos that are used to illustrate the tattoos the boys get in this story are in no way mine and I do not take credit for them in any way (there’s a reason I’m a writer, I can’t draw to save my life 🤣). They are only used to show what the boys wanted tattooed on them by their mate. Credit where Credit is due)

Seeing them was odd, it always had been. It was very rare that I was on the boardwalk after the sun went down and when I was I always had someone with me who walked me to my car, and always freshly after sunset. I knew the boardwalk was a dangerous place at night and honestly, I preferred to avoid it, even if the night life is more fun for everyone.

Unfortunately I had to take this shift for a coworker for the rest of the week at least, and was stuck here until the Tattoo shop closed at 2am, and the only reason I’m not complaining is because people seem much more willing to tip better at night. The Lost Boys were a biker gang, and while I couldn’t deny that they are attractive and that they look like a lot of fun, I also knew better. They parked their bikes across from the shop every night, from what I could tell they enjoy pissing off Max, the video store owner, though I don’t know why.

I tried very hard not to make eye contact with any of them, just not looking up at them at all as I finished my tattoo, which was a pinup of a mermaid, and covered it up with plastic wrap, quickly checking the guy out and accepting my 30 dollar tip before shutting the register on my finger which instantly made me yelp in pain and see a trickle of blood coming from my finger. Thankfully it was only a little cut and it wouldn’t hinder my work as I sucked off the blood and quickly disinfected it, wrapping a tight bandaid around it. Just as I moved to my station to clean everything my eyes flickered up as if by instinct and caught all 4 of the boys staring at me intently which startled me but I quickly looked away and tried to calm my racing heart by getting rid of the inky water at my station. Just as I was about to put my ink away and read my book I heard footsteps walk into the front.

‘Hello, welcome to Ink-Well Tattoo Shop, if you’d like to look at my books they’re on the shelf.’ I told them, just turning around as I finished talking and coming face to face with the bleach blond leader that had been staring at me only a moment ago.

‘Ink-Well…is that a reference to an ink container people used to have on their desks or how good you are at your job?’ He asked…softly? I had always imagined their voices to be deep and dark, especially his, but while it was deep it was also gentle, at least while speaking to me right now it was but I could tell that soft voice wasn’t always so soft.

‘I think you’re the first person to prove me wrong, the owner said, “Everyone knows what an inkwell is”…no one knows what it is. And personally, I would describe my abilities much better than “well”. I’m incredible, do you know what you want today, sir?’ I asked, moving around him only to find the dark haired one right behind him and I realized how tall he really is as I almost slammed my face into his naked chest. I looked around, seeing the other two beside my chair and I took a deep breath. ‘Which one of you is getting inked today?’ I asked and the twisted sister look-alike jumped up excitedly.

‘Oh! Me! I want to do it!’ He seemed to be begging which was a strange thought as the leader nodded and he jumped to sit in the chair.

‘Okay, I’m Y/n, it’s nice to meet you.’ I held out my hand and he took it in his own, pulling me closer before kissing my hand tenderly which made my blood rush to my face. The idea that these boys are soft and sweet and gentle in any way shape or form is really screwing with me. Their presence had always been a tad bit scary with the vibe they gave off, sexy or not (and they definitely are), but for the first time that I’m seeing them it’s like they’re not projecting dangerous vibes and it was a comfort in this situation being alone with all of them.

‘I’m Paul. This is Marko, Dwayne and you met David. Y/n, I like that name.’ He flirted and I rolled my eyes, handing him a book full of images of my work.

‘I’m glad, do you know what you want to get Paul?’ I asked, and he smiled as he looked at my work, all of them now watching as he flipped through the pages.

‘I want a vampire bat on my chest. Are you able to do that?’ He questioned, looking up at me as Marko took the book and I nodded, sitting in my seat beside him.

‘Were you looking for it to be realistic, like a portrait? Because if you want something like that it’s a 6-7 hour minimum piece and I would need you to come back during the day-‘

‘Oh, we can only be here at night, I want something smaller anyway. Not cartoony but-‘

‘You want a badass vampire bat, I get you. I can definitely do that. How big are you looking to get it?’ He jumped to pull off his jacket which jingled with all the stuff he had hanging off of it before stripping off his tank top.

‘Like maybe, this big?’ He showed me the area of his chest he wanted covered and I nodded.

‘Okay, let me draw that up and we’ll see if you like it.’ It was a relatively small tattoo and he watched, leaning over the chair as I sketched it out and he was smiling the whole time, staring at me.

‘You’re really pretty, has anyone told you that?’ He asked and I rolled my eyes.

‘Surf Nazis say shit every day-though they usually go with “hot”, “sexy”, “great rack”. Things like that, pretty is a new one though, thank you.’ I knew my face was red as he watched me draw, Marko suddenly beside me, setting a chair near Paul’s feet.

‘They bother you a lot, Angel?’ He wondered and I shrugged, my face darkening even more as he called me that.

‘All day long, they’re probably the most annoying customers so my boss takes all of them since they started getting a bit too comfortable and handsy with me and the other girl. I have her evening closing shift for the week so, if they show up I get to tell them to “fuck off” which is awesome.’ I joked and they laughed along with me.

‘Well, we’ll need to make sure they don’t bother you anymore, won’t we boys?’ It was the first time David spoke again and I looked up to see him watching me draw over my shoulder.

‘Fuck yeah, no one’s gonna be bothering our Princess.’ Paul cheered and it was weirdly comforting to hear that they wanted to protect me.

‘Please, just leave it alone? They don’t know I’m working nights now so it’s all fine, and I’ll only be doing it for the week. What do you think? Do you think he looks mean enough?’ I asked, showing Paul my drawing.

‘Princess, that’s incredible! It somehow looks cute and vicious…like Marko!’ He teased, getting punched in the chest immediately.

‘Okay, punch each other all you’d like outside, but if you make his skin swell where I need to ink then I’ll hit you myself.’ I told Marko, moving to make a stencil for the tattoo that Paul wanted, nearly running into Dwayne again, who just watched me.

‘Don’t mind him, he’s quiet but honestly, he’s the nicest of all of us…usually.’ David spoke and I smiled, quickly making the stencil.

‘Would you tattoo me tomorrow night?’ A new deep voice asked and I looked up to see it had been Dwayne. I paused to pick my chin up from the floor at the sound of his sexy deep baritone voice before shaking off and answering him.

‘Of course. Do you know what you want done, because I can do anything you want but depending on the style you want I might recommend a coworker. Say you wanted Japanese, I would recommend Kevin, he is fucking killer at that stuff and if you want anything American Traditional he is bomb at it.’ I had said this because of the American Traditional rose tattoo I could see peeking out on his side though he quickly shook his head.

‘I want you. I want something like this.’ he showed me the dreamcatcher piece I had put in my book and I smiled.

‘This is one of the best tattoos I ever did, and it was so much fun! Do you want it that size?’ He nodded his head.

‘Yes, but a bit more along the Native American type style? I’d like it to look like it’s braided together…could you do that?’ He looked unsure but I just kept smiling.

‘Of course I can! Let me draw a couple of things up tonight for you and you can see what you like best tomorrow. I’m sure I can give you something perfect!’ For the first time the corners of his mouth turned up and he smiled down at me-his smile was hot cute.

‘I know you can Babygirl.’ I was startled but after hearing Marko and Paul I realized that they seem to have a thing for nicknames so I ignored it.

‘Alright Paul, stencil is done.’ I spoke, sitting back down beside him. Most of his chest hair was in the center of his chest so I didn’t need to shave where he wanted the tattoo before placing the stencil and squeezing out the inks I would need. ‘Are you ready, rockstar?’ I asked him and he grinned as I called him that.

‘Hell Yeah Princess! Ink me up!’ We chatted as I tattooed him, him and Marko keeping me engaged with the conversation but I noticed David and Dwayne off on their own and speaking seriously for a while. The tattoo took about an hour, maybe a bit more before I was finished, turning off the machine and wiping his chest down.

‘What do you think?’ I waited for his reaction after handing him a mirror to see it more clearly and he turned it away from me instantly, seeming uncomfortable before looking down at his chest instead of at the reflection and grinning at the new ink on his body.

‘Princess! This is amazing!’ He exclaimed, placing the mirror face down and moving to hug me.

‘Ah-Ah! It’s sensitive! Don’t you dare destroy my work!’ I warned, turning to lay some plastic wrap over it and tape it down after David and Dwayne looked at it.

‘You’re really talented. I’m gonna have to go after Dwayne.’ David told me, watching as I cleaned up.

‘You’ll have to go the next night cause Dwayne’s is going to take me until closing at least…what time can you get here tomorrow?’ I asked him.

‘I’ll be here right after the sun goes down, I promise.’

‘Okay, so that’s about 8. I’ll be sure my last client will be done by then. Where do you want it, by the way?’ He opened his jacket, showing me the right side of his chest and making me blush. ‘Got it. I’ll have a few options for you tomorrow. For now, Paul, that’ll be 45.’ I finished putting everything away as it was now 10 minutes after closing time.

‘Here you go Princess, be safe getting home, you hear?’ He warned and I nodded, Paul, Marko and Dwayne walking out and leaving me with David for a moment and I froze under his intense stare.

‘Paul is right you know…you really are beautiful.’ He complimented, his gloved hand holding my chin for a moment before walking out and letting me shut the gate to the front before realizing Paul had given me a 100 dollar bill which is a 55 dollar tip…maybe I can like these boys after all.

What I didn’t know was, as I walked out the back door and locked it once the place was all clean, I was being watched. I made my way down the boardwalk, grabbing a burger and fries, along with a coke, shoving the food in my bag and sipping my soda as I walked off the boardwalk and all the way home.

Unlike every other night I had walked in the dark before, I felt…safe? I wasn’t looking around like a crazy person waiting to get jumped, I just walked home and crashed into bed.

I live in an apartment with a roommate, Justin, who is always out at his girlfriends (whoever that is this week) which left me alone most of the time and I loved it. I put in a video I had rented from the video store next door earlier that day, it was a new horror movie, Hellraiser. Strange premise, awesome movie.

That’s how I fell asleep that night, around 3:30 am, and all the while 4 sets of yellow eyes watched from the trees outside.

I got to work the next night at 6 as my boss left and set my sketchbook on my table, taking 2 quick tattoos before telling the last walk-in that I didn’t have time, knowing as the sun began to set Dwayne would be coming for his tattoo and I was excited to see which one he picked. I had set up everything I would need and just as I was scheduling a tattoo for a coworker to do tomorrow for a walk-in, I heard the rumble of bikes coming down the boardwalk making me smile. ‘Okay, Kevin will take you tomorrow at noon, is that alright?’ I asked the annoyed girl who clearly just wanted her tattoo now.

‘Still don’t get why you can’t just take me now.’ She bitched and I fought to not roll my eyes as 4 sets of heavy boots stomped through the front.

‘I can’t take you now because I’m tattooing him now. Your appointment is for noon tomorrow.’ She turned and as she saw the boys she quickly ran out the front and was gone, startling me. ‘I should employ you as security here from now on.’ I teased, grabbing my book and walking over to my chair.

‘We can do that for you at night.’ Marko agreed, a grin on his face which seemed to always be grinning honestly.

‘Well I’m only working here for the week at nights so you won’t see me after that-‘

‘No! You need to keep working nights Angel, what are we supposed to do without you here?’ Marko complained.

‘Come on, the night life is more fun anyway Princess!’ I rolled my eyes, opening my book.

‘I’ll think about it. Okay, this is the first one I did, I went simple cause I didn’t know how detailed you wanted everything. Usually I put in too much detail and people hate it.’

‘It’s nice, but I was hoping for something more intricate.’ He told me and I smiled.

‘Okay, I went a little bigger with this one, but my personal favorite is this one.’ I showed him the third one and his eyes widened. ‘I researched some Native American dream catchers and tried to make it as real as I could…do you like it?’ He nodded his head slowly and I was worried for a moment.

‘It looks like the one my Ma made me when I was a kid…it’s perfect Babygirl, thank you.’ I was touched by that.

‘This is why I love my job, you can tattoo memories for people that they get to keep for a lifetime. Don’t thank me yet though, not until it’s done, I already made the stencil for it, I just knew you would pick this one! Take off your jacket.’ I told him, grabbing the stencil and looking at Paul. ‘Let me see how it’s healing rockstar.’ He hesitated for a moment before pulling his shirt up and I was stunned. ‘Holy shit!’ I stood, moving to him and touching his chest. ‘You…you heal fast don’t you?’

‘Way fast, it looks great Princess.’ He pecked my cheek before sitting next to Marko and I moved back to my chair, removing my jacket and getting ready to place the stencil. ‘Damn girl! You are tatted up!’ I tried to stop the blush that came in but I couldn’t, smiling as they all inspected my skin which had both of my sleeves done.

‘Yeah, I don’t know any tattooers who don’t have tattoos, and if you find one, don’t go to them.’ I teased, peeling the stencil off and turning on my machine to begin inking the shirtless God.

‘I need food, you guys want anything? Dwayne? Angel?’ Marko offered a little later, just as I was finishing the outlines.

‘I wouldn’t mind a coke.’ I told him and he grinned, jumping to go get food with Paul behind him. ‘How are you feeling Dwayne? Okay?’

‘I’m fine, how are you?’ He countered and I rolled my eyes.

‘I’m trying to make sure you’re not getting dizzy or are gonna pass out on me, you’re still as a statue and barely breathing. Don’t be a smartass.’

‘I’m fine, I promise. You have beautiful eyes…’ he mumbled and I just blushed, beginning to detail the braided base before moving to the feathers.

I finished the tattoo just before 2 and it came out perfectly, prompting me to hand him the mirror which he grabbed as Paul had and turned it away from me though I could swear it looked like he didn’t have any reflection at all. ‘Alright, you’re all finished. Is it what you wanted?’ I asked and he nodded, looking down at his chest.

‘You have no idea how perfect this is. Thank you Babygirl.’ He leaned down and kissed my cheek as I rang him up and I was once again bright red.

‘Look at that cute little blush!’ Marko exclaimed and he and Paul laughed like crazy. ‘Everything you do is just so cute Angel!’ He was teasing me and I wanted to hate it but I didn’t, it filled my stomach with butterflies and I was feeling awful about how badly I wanted to jump all of them.

‘Shut up.’ I grumbled and began closing up, all of them moving to hug me in one way or another.

‘We’ll see you tomorrow night Kitten.’ David told me and it felt almost like a warning, daring me not to be here which made me excited.

For the rest of the week they were there, David and Marko both getting tattoos of their own before Paul decided to get a bigger piece, dedicating a whole sleeve to his rockstar image which I found cute, starting with a killer electric guitar and lyrics from the song Lost in the Shadows. That next night was my last night on the boardwalk, going back to the dayshift the next day which they complained about loudly, insisting I switch my schedule so they could see me.

That night as I started my shift I was immediately bothered by Surf Nazis, a few of the assholes noticing me in the shop alone. I had kicked them out and the security escorted them off the boardwalk (which I knew wouldn’t last long). The boys didn’t show up at 8 like they normally did and I was a bit disappointed but I knew they would find something shiny and new to love eventually, guys like that always do.

Around 10 o’clock the assholes were back, 3 of them now walking around the shop and getting too comfortable.

‘Don’t touch me!’ I snapped as I cleaned my station, deciding to close early tonight and just take the loss if it got them away from me, their hands pinching me now and then before the one with the giant Mohawk pulled me to his chest and pinned me to the counter. ‘Let Me Go!’ I growled, punching at him as hard as I could but not making him budge.

‘Come on sweetheart, just spend the night with us, I promise you’ll have the time of your life.’ He teased just before I brought my knee up and hit him straight in the crotch, a high pitched noise escaping him before he collapsed.

‘Get the fuck out!’ His 2 friends helped him up before practically carrying him out and I pulled the gates at the front shut, locking them and making my way down the boardwalk. Unlike the last 5 nights, I was uneasy and scared again, hating the long walk in the darkness which is what made me hesitate as I got to the parking lot before trying to quickly get to the next street and away from the rowdy people. I wasn’t even halfway through the parking lot when I was grabbed, tight hands clamped around my waist and mouth as I was hauled down the beach no matter how hard I kicked before being dropped by a bonfire.

‘Hi there.’ The asshole from earlier greeted and I rolled my eyes.

‘Get the fuck away from me!’ I snapped, trying to get up only to be shoved back down onto my ass, realizing there were 4 of them now all looking down at me like it was the funniest joke ever told.

‘Oh, come on! We’re gonna have a great time, you just need to relax.’ There were suddenly hands on me from behind pulling at my jacket and I tried to pull my arms back, kicking my legs out and hitting the one in front of me in the stomach before two of them pinned me on my back on the sand.

‘You’re gonna pay for that, bitch.’ He snarled and just as he knelt down over me there was a loud shrieking sound from behind him and they all turned towards their friend that had screamed. I couldn’t sit up to see from where I was but as both men holding me suddenly let me go I knew whatever it was, it wasn’t good. As more screams rang out I rolled over, crawling along the sand and keeping my head down before seeing boots below my face that I recognized instantly.

‘David?’ I questioned, looking up and stiffening as I saw blood covering his mouth and jaw but strangely, I didn’t feel any real fear like I had moments ago.

‘Are you alright Kitten? The one night we’re late.’ He teased, leaning down and lifting me up to my feet. I turned around as the screaming suddenly cut off and saw all 4 Surf Nazi’s dead and covered in blood. I had to swallow to keep from getting sick as I saw several limbs no longer attached to their original bodies, Paul and Dwayne covered in blood much the same as David while Marko held one of the assholes in his grip with his…fangs…in the man’s neck.

‘Holy shit…’ They all looked at me now, their faces distorted but they didn’t look angry like I would expect, more concerned as they all looked at me, Marko dropping the now dead body.

‘Relax Kitten, it’s alright. You’re safe now.’ David told me and I took a deep breath, not feeling scared in the least.

‘Vampires…makes sense…only coming out at night. The mirror thing…that’s why you heal so fast! Totally unfair!’ I whined, realizing why their tattoos healed so quickly as they stepped closer to me, Dwayne having cleaned off his face as best he could before looking me over quickly.

‘Are you hurt? We got here as quickly as we could, we-‘

‘I’m fine! It’s alright…thank you for saving me…I’m going to have to switch to working nights after all, aren’t I?’ I joked making David snort beside me while he lit a cigarette.

‘Or you could quit and just tattoo us exclusively.’ Paul proposed. ‘For the rest of eternity.’

‘W-wait, you mean-‘

‘You think we show just anyone what we really are?’ Marko wondered.

‘You were meant to be one of us Princess-knew you were ours since the moment you sliced your finger and we smelled your blood, no changing that.’ The pothead laughed making me roll my eyes before feeling David’s arm around my waist, covering my neck in blood as he nuzzled me which was a uniquely gross feeling.

‘He’s right Kitten. You ain’t gettin away from us, might as well accept it…you, our little mate, were born to be a vampire.’

Lost Boys Masterlist

Lost Boys x Tattoo Artist Moodboard

[jester-lover]

Boys Don't Cry

comforting your boy when he needs it the most (part 1)

cw- angst, fluff, hurt/comfort, body insecurities, mortality, discussions of depression, unbearably sweet

Riddle

Riddle tried to wipe his face with the edges of his bedspread, everything was going wrong. Ace and Deuce ruined his tea party, half of his guests didn’t show up, and he spilled tea all over himself. 

If his mother was here, she’d mock him for his emotion, his insolence and inability to keep his composure.

 His lower lip quivered, and he broke out into sobs again. 

The worst part of it all, however, was that you were there. You saw how he lost his temper and yelled at the freshmen, losing all of his gentlemanly composure.

He turned around and faced the long mirror against his dresser, his face was red and swollen with tears, and his nice new shirt was ruined. 

He felt like a fool.

Riddle got up out of bed, looking to go speak with Trey about further action, when he saw you standing in the doorway, a soft smile on your face. His tears bubbled up again.

“I’m so so s-sorry I didn’t mean for-”

You leaned in closer and wrapped your arms around his shoulders. His arms found their place against your waist.

“It’s okay, it wasn’t your fault, you have nothing to apologize for.”

His sobs were muffled by the shoulder of your shirt, as you kissed his hairline and rubbed his back.

“Let it all out Riddle, cry as much as you need to, I’ll be here.”

His tears quelled as your hands moved up to brush against his hair. His arms against your waist tightened.

Leona 

Leona looked out the big window in his room, he slowly undid the braids in his hair, taking deep unordered breaths.

His brother had sent a letter again, asking for him to return for a visit over summer. Deep down, Leona knew Farena had good intentions, but the idea of returning to the palace made bile rise up his throat. 

He reached for the hairbrush on his side, only to realize tears had begun blurring his vision. 

Leona couldn’t understand why he hated his brother, who had only been kind with him. Maybe it was the press constantly comparing the two of them, or the sense of inferiority he felt around him. Whatever it was, he didn’t care. He didn't want to see Farena, not when he’s finally beginning to feel content.

The tears began rolling down, and Leona wiped them off furiously. His hands were shaking and he dropped the brush back onto his bed. His shoulders shook too.

“Leona.”

His head snapped toward the door, you stood there, still and frowning. He just stared at you.

“Do you need some help with your hair?”

Leona nodded, his head down, hoping you wouldn't see the tear tracks on his face. You moved to kneel on the bed beside him, breath touching his ear. Slowly, you untangled the knots along his nape, slowly adjusting to move near his forehead, keeping your hand steady,as to not to catch a knot too fast. Leona continued to stare outside, into the falling sun. He was thinking again. 

Slowly, after you finished with his hair, you wrapped your arms around his still shoulders. He brought one of his hands to rub your arm, leaning back against your touch.

“You deserve more than this.”

His words have a sense of tiredness to them, like he’s been meaning to say them for a while.

“I’ve got everything I need, everything I could ever want.”

You can see his reflection in the glass, his smile.

Azul

The door of his office slammed shut, Azul looked at himself with disdain, breaking apart all the points of himself he didn’t like.

 The silence of his sanctuary helped him think back, to all those moments as a chubby little octopus. His thoughts turned to the stretch marks on his back and hips, and he went to go sit at his desk.

 Moments of self hatred had slowly dissipated as his career and reputation grew, but deep inside he knew he’d always be that little boy, crying his inky tears. 

He put his head in his hands. No tears came, only thoughts swirled around his head.

“Azul, would you like to help me solve this?”

You stood by the end of his desk, he didn't notice you come in, and he raised his head up to look at you. You held a small wood puzzle in your hand.

His stupid self hatred disappeared, and a feeling of warm fuzziness rose in his chest. His regular charisma returned.

“Of course I would.”

Vil

A crumpled mass of magazines littered the floor of Vil’s room, he was hunched over his vanity in a display that ashamed him. 

A new poll was entered into his favorite fashion magazine, pitting him and Neige against each other. 

Niege had won by a landslide.

Vil’s mascara ran down his cheeks, he wished you were there to comfort him, but you were busy doing whatever Crowley had planned for you. He was proud of your hard work of course, but as he desperately wiped his makeup away with cleanser, he knew he needed you by his side. 

knock knock

“U-um please wait a moment, I need to recuperate myself.”

The last thing he needed was an annoying freshman or nosy sophomore disrupting him.

“Vil, dear it's just me, could you please open the door?”

He rose out of his chair in a hurry, reaching for the door and pulling it open, quickly shutting it after you.

At this point his shoulders were heaving, and his breathing was uneven as his hands curled at his shirt, digging back into his palms. 

“Hey, hey Vil, it’s gonna be fine, it’ll all be fine.”

He reached for you quickly, pulling you against his chest, brushing his hands against your head, his other wrapped snugly around your waist. He was silent.

“What happened, Vil?”

He turned his red face towards you, grasping your face in his hands, and pressing your foreheads together until his breathing slowly turned normal again.

“I don’t know, maybe- maybe this was the final straw, I’ve just had a terrible week and now my runway shoot is delayed and I think they might drop me-”

His sobbing started up again, and he went back to hugging you, head pressed firmly into your shoulder. 

“I understand, Vil, feeling like the world is turning its back on you.”

Your fingers brushed his back, and his hands loosened.

“Around me, you're free to do whatever you need, I can never see you in a negative light.”

Vil beamed.

Idia

Idia felt himself weasel his head out of the thick bed sheets, his messy hair clearly not cared for. There was knocking on his door, and he quickly looked at the security cameras. 

It was you, looking as radiant as the sun. He looked down at his pajamas.

Slowly he opened the door, and you gave him a hug and littered kisses all over his face.

He turned a little red, and looked at the ground. By this point, he would have asked to play a game or watch an anime, but he was silent.

“Hey, Idia, are you okay? Is something wrong?”

He smiled a little at how quickly you could read his mood. Your hand moved up and grasped the side of his jaw.

“Don’t you ever want a more adventurous boyfriend?”

You looked at him with a puzzled look on your face, mouth slowly turning into a frown.

“I much prefer you, Idia.”

His face fell, tears beaded at his eyes as your second hand came up to cup his face.

Idia felt like a tall child.

“You could have anyone.”

His voice was quiet and still.

“But I only want you.”

Idia leaned down and pressed a kiss on your forehead.

Malleus

The cool night air kissed malleus’s skin as he waited for you to come out of Ramshackle. He watched you slip out of the door and come up to him, pressing a kiss against his hand. 

The only thing Malleus saw was the large bandage on your cheek. He grazed the spot with the back of his fingers.

“Child of man, what happened here?”

You laughed and grasped his hand. 

“I was walking through the forest looking for clean branches for the fireplace, and I tripped over a root.”

Malleus thought for a second, a fall of that nature wouldn't even phase him, he would probably not even fall in the first place with his natural grace.

For you however, such an incident would leave a permanent scar, he wouldn't like to think about what would have happened if you had hit your head, alone in those unforgiving woods.

Flashes of fear ran through his head, regarding your mortality and human clumsiness. 

He went quiet, even more than usual, and squeezed your hand.

Malleus knew that one day you’d leave him, grow older and slip through his fingertips like the wind. Normally he ignored such thoughts, choosing to spend every hour cherishing you, but now a sense of dread filled him and he felt weak to the power of natural order. Suddenly he turned around, giving you a firm hug around the shoulders. 

“Malleus, what’s up, are you okay?”

He kissed your head, leaning down to look at you.

“Do you ever think of your mortality?”

He could see the wires turn in your head, and you gave him a sweet smile.

“Sometimes, but then I remember how happy I am, spending all of my days with you.”

His eyes closed for a moment, before opening again.

“Your life is fickle, short, and the most valuable thing in my world.”

He parted from your embrace.

“I wish to make your life as enjoyable as possible, especially as you rule by my side.”

Malleus saw tears brimming in your eyes. He smiled.

“Your life will be spent laughing and smiling, but after it ends I will spend forever yearning for you.”

The tears fell as you leaned against him.

“I will love you until my last breath, Malleus.”

“And I will too, Child of Man.”

Sebek

“How annoying can he get?”

“Someone doesn't understand noise control.”

“Stay away from him, he’ll make your ears hurt.”

Sebek had grown used to ignoring the lingering words he heard in the halls, and he held his head up high. No matter how often he felt unimportant in human spaces, he knew he always had a place with you.

“Human! How did your classes go today?”

You smiled at him, grabbing his hand and walking alongside him.

“How can someone like them like someone like him? He’s insufferable.”

Sebek turned his head around, but whoever said it had already disappeared into the crowd of students.

He turned his head back in shame, something about being insulted around you made him feel insecure and upset.

“Whoever said that clearly hasn’t ever been passionate about anything.”

Sebek turned to look at you, he was quiet for once.

“Listen, no matter what anyone says about you, you have joy in your job in a way none of those idiots will ever feel.”

Sebek could feel his smile start to show again.

“Of course you think that! Any human would be glad to spend time with the retainer of the great Malleus Drac-”

AN/my sincere apologies to all the Kalim fans, I seriously couldn’t think of anything for him

[halcyone-of-the-sea]

AS TAINTED AND AS FLAWED AS YOU (V)

NAVIGATION || RAVISHING ALLURE MASTERLIST || NEXT: CHAPTER VI

PAIRING: Nikto x F!Reader (Soulmate AU)

WORDCOUNT: 6.7k

WARNINGS: Angst, mentions of stalking & stalking behavior, creepy men, talks of death, weapons, toxic modeling standards, food issues, dead animals, blood, talks about gore, etc. (Series 18+)

*I do not give others permission to translate and/or re-publish my works on this or any other platform*

You wondered what the doves had felt when they had gotten ripped apart. Were they already dead by the time the fingers had torn into them, breaking their hollow bones, or had they been alive—past the burning; past the evisceration of their intestines? You don’t want to think about it, but thinking is the only thing you can do. Think, think, think one horrible thought after another until you’re sinking in a pool of gore.

Your Mom shakes your shoulder and you startle back to the scene of her office.

Eyes widening, you clear your throat quickly and speak above the palpitations of your heart. “Yeah?”

The woman’s wrinkles tighten. 

“I asked if you wanted any water, Beauty.”

Stop calling me that.

“Please.” A cup is held in front of your face, and you slowly take it as the box on the other side of the room is stuck in the sides of your vision. Two investigators mull over it, muttering to themselves and sending glances over their shoulders. 

Yaromir and Galina. Both are tall and dressed in dark jackets—a patch on their left arm. The inky ties contrast with a pale button-up seen under the collar. 

You haven’t even spoken to them.

Taking a long drag from your cup, you focus on taking down the liquid through your tight throat. There’s a certain point where shock overtakes the ability to think properly—you don’t know how to act except to respond to issues as they arise. 

You were supposed to go home right after AMA, but your mom had gotten a call from the Operational Officers. It seemed Nikto had been in touch, and they had given the order to come here for as much information as you could give, which, admittingly, was little. 

Everything you’d given was still the same as it had been after the explosion. 

“Nikto?” Your lips are cold.

The man blinks from the corner of the room, slightly shifting his head your way from where he watches the scene quietly. Your eyes lock and after a moment you raise the glass. 

“Do you need anything?” 

His chest slightly raises in a sigh. 

“... Negative. I am,” the Russian pauses, the fingers behind his back twitching. “Adequate.” 

You hum and pretend you heard what he said above the ringing in your ears. This was how you acted right after the scene in the bakery as well. Like a walking corpse. 

“They already called into AMA,” your mom side-eyes Nikto, her eyebrows pulling in tightly before they slide back to you and lessen. In her face is the sheen of hidden concern. “The CEO was told he can’t keep you in the building if there’s an immediate threat to your life or the lives around you—it’s all up to you until the investigation is over if you want to go back.” 

“Okay,” your response is short and swift. You set the glass to your lips and take back the last few droplets, wishing it was wine instead. Even like this, you knew that you would still drag yourself through the front doors of your work—you needed the job. You can’t do anything else properly. 

Mom sighs, the jewelry at her wrists jingling as her hands come up to rub at her temple. 

“This might offer us something—fingerprints, DNA. It’s better than incinerated pieces, at the very least.” You put your cup on the desk, hands coming back to wrap around your middle with shaking fingers finding purchase in your jacket fabric.

“Has Dad written?” Her slate body freezes like stone. 

It’s a long time before she speaks, and when she does, it’s a firm utterance that comes from her throat. The investigators are still speaking to one another, and Nikto’s dead eyes are stuck on the two of you in interest. His chin minutely tilts down.

“No.” 

You don’t know if that’s the answer, or if it’s a command for you to stop the road you’re going down. Either way, you flatten your lips and say no more, your knee jumping with nerves.

“Ma’am,” Galina speaks louder, addressing you. Your head pivots, breath sounding heavy as you lick your lips. The woman’s long, dark, hair is tied back in a ponytail, tight to her skull. Doe-like eyes don’t stray from yours. “I will need to be in contact with your manager.”

“Alright,” she continued to stare, face bland. Your heart jerks. “Do…do you need his number?”

“It would be swifter than having to gain it from elsewhere.”

You nod, face heating. 

“Sorry,” your lips mutter, hand delving into your pocket to pull out your device and unlock it, swiping through contacts before finding the correct one and listing off the numbers slowly. Galina writes them down on a piece of paper from her notebook and says little more before she turns back around to her partner and addresses him. 

“Explain it to them, I have to make a call.”

Yaromir huffs, standing up and grimacing down at the ‘gift’ with his clean-cut face. The woman walks out the door with steady steps, Nikto paying close attention to how her eyes slide to him, how they narrow, and how her lips twist at his mask—gaze icy. 

There was no question as to whether these two disliked his involvement in this case, and how they had to listen to his input as a former member of the Russian forces with far more knowledge than they could ever possess. Perhaps Nikto’s lips quirked at that, chest stuck with a pleased grunt as Galina stalked away and closed the door behind her.

But there was time for his arrogant nature later. Yaromir speaks with his light accent. 

“There will be more patrols around your penthouse,” Nikto was always surprised by the lack of action in civilian life—if it was his choice, the stalker would have already had a bullet through his chest before he had the chance to bomb that bakery. But at the very least, he knew that his mind was not one to rely on. 

You shift in his peripheral view, and he knows you’re afraid. Nikto’s feet shift from under him.

“Our resources are not infinite, but if we can’t pull anything from this,” a vague hand gesture to the mutilated animals. “There may be a need too…” Yaromir pauses.

Your mother speaks before you can.

“Too what?”

“He is saying he will need more,” Nikto’s voice is a harsh crunch of cords, of black ice. 

You tilt your head to implore him of his meaning, and he does so while not looking away from you. You were his charge after all. 

“More gifts.”

Yaromir is swift with his response. “I-I do not mean…that is only if we can get nothing out of the box—”

“What?” Your face is twisted up with disgust and shock, sputtering out as your head snaps back to the officer. “No!” 

“It is imperative that we avenge the lives of our three countrymen.” He shakes his head, raising an arm as your mother sits in silence, her lungs taking down a deep breath. “You must see our stance on this.”

Your face falls. 

Nikto doesn’t know why, or maybe he does, but the sentence makes his hands tighten like no other, a rage breeding in his chest. 

“You’re saying that I,” you stutter, and the soldier can see the way your neck pulses with the speed of blood. “You expect me to try and accept more of them? More presents from a man that’s intent on getting to me and doing God knows what?” 

In your brain, you know the truth.

They’re more concerned about the lives they deem important, and you don’t fit into that graph.

“Nothing will harm you,” Nikto growls. “Not while I’m here.”

He’s given a firm stare.

“You agree with this?”

“I have never said that,” he grunts, voice stiff as a board. “Simply stating my mission.”

For the first time working with you, he sees your face go tight with distrust and his eyelids twitch slightly lower. 

“Beauty,” you’re shaking your head, hands raising up and waving back and forth as you stand up swiftly. 

“Are you going to defend this?” Your mom’s eyes dart away before wafting back. 

“It’s all that they can do,” you scoff wetly. “And that’s only if they don’t find anything. You need to think about this logically.”

“Nothing about this involves logic,” you snap, immediately feeling bad about the taken-aback expression on the Consul’s face. 

Steadying yourself on the back of the chair, you miss Nikto taking a firm step forward, his hands at his sides in case you were to trip or fall. He had gotten good at noticing when your feet might get tangled and had taken to silent protection without delay. 

“What the hell?” You move away and run a hand down your jacket, trying to push off the panic in your flesh as best you’re able before you make a fool of yourself. Your body shivers and seeps tension, but you make it to the door relatively alright. 

“Seraph!” 

You’re down the hallway and clenching your eyes tight, turning a corner and smacking your arm into it with a stifled inhale. 

Walking, you hear the steady thump of Nikto’s boots behind you, trailing after as his shadow joins the mass of black and gray in your vision. He says nothing until you push open the door and exit the Consulate building entirely, your pupils tiny and mind running. 

“You are going to—” Your heels twist from under you, and your mouth releases a squeak before Nikto’s arm jerks out and loops around your waist, steadying you easily before your face can meet the ground.

His hand presses into your side, harsh fingers sitting there as he slightly leans over you. The open street is mostly empty today, so what embarrassment you can glean from this is limited to your stoic guard.

Nikto grunts, making sure you’re not about to do it again, and he pulls you up. He waits until you’re steady to release you, head moving to spear you open with an exasperated tweak of his invisible brow. 

You open your mouth to speak but find you have no words to say into the cold air. Turning your head away and walking to the car by yourself, your body is hunched in and bearing the weight of mountains, moments and memories flashing back and forth. 

Aly had been blowing up your phone, text after text—call after call asking if you were okay. All you’d managed was a short, ‘I’m okay. At Mom’s work.’

That had stopped the calls, at least, but not the texts.

Nikto unlocked the car just as your hand looped the handle, and you got inside the back seat. The Russian watches from behind on the sidewalk, keys in one hand and the other open to the air. Thinking. He moves his neck from one end of the street to another, face under his mask tense and hard as he breathes slowly. Like some wolf, he only clicks his tongue before loping to the driver’s side. 

As you stare hard into your lap, he barks out to you.

“We are taking you to store. Will get good food to make. Proper food.” Your spine straightens itself as the engine groans to life. 

“We,” your face goes confused, voice small. Three burnt bodies. Ripped feathers. “We can’t do that…what if…?” 

“You will be safe with me. I said this, did I not, Whelp?” Dead eyes move from the reflection of the mirror, glancing at yours. “We are going.” 

And that was how you two ended up standing in the black and white grocery store, Nikto causing people to splinter off and regard you both with concerned glances. But some of those stares are your fault as well. 

You pass a newspaper as you carry your basket, the picture of a fiery bakery on the front cover—your form clearly desirable. Your body halts at that, blankly watching before a hand settles over your spine. 

“Move. I have list.”

“I know you do,” you say weakly, stomach rolling nearly to an alarming level. “Let’s just…do this quick, alright?” Nikto scoffs lightly, but seems to agree with that as he carefully prods you along. 

The store was close to your penthouse, expensive, but close. You had told him he could do the shopping. Clearing your throat, you try to distract yourself from staring at every face turned your way—every hidden expression. 

What if he knows I’m here? He doesn’t. But how do you know that he doesn’t? He found you at the bakery—he waited for you to show up at work to deliver the box. He knows. He’s watching me. He’s right behind my back, waiting to drag me off somewhere and—

“What are we getting, Nikto?” Your shaking tone leaves you clenching your teeth, blinking away the panic. 

You’re fine.

“I tried to understand what you were saying in the kitchen, but my Russian is…bad, to put it lightly.”

“We know.” He’s not looking at you, but instead at the rows of cut meat he had brought you to. Your attention moves from one point on the wall to another, mouth salivating at the thought of good food. With it comes a sliver of guilt. “Many things,” Nikto responds to your previous question. 

“Many?” Your brows furrow, turning back. “How many?”

“Many.” You dryly stare at the back of his head as he moves forward, picking up what he wants and disposing of it into your basket. 

He carts you around like a pet, hand stuck to the back of your shoulder and fingers an inch away from holding on if you were to knock into something. You don’t know if he knows, but being able to lean into his firm grip made walking that much easier without having to put a hand on the wall. 

Perhaps he did know, with how he looks down at you every so often. Your heart warms at that, no matter how much it still fights to break out of your ribcage. 

“Where did you learn to cook, then,” you ease out slowly. You need a distraction. “On a military base?”

A single, sharp bark of a laugh makes your head snap up to Nikto and many people down the way startle. It was like a hyena, but in a way, you didn’t expect anything else to come from the man. You don’t know why, but your lips quirk at that, tight hold on your basket lessening.

It was…charming. In a deadly, cold way.

“Нет, Woman. No, no.” His mask meets you. “You do not know what base is like, hm?”

“I can’t say I do,” your attention turns to the hulking form, paranoia sitting in the backseat. But he was speaking to you, and you liked it when he did. “Explain it to me?”

Pale eyes blink at you, head tilting as silence settles.

“Ладно.” He takes a slight breath and you see his vest rise and fall, the strength of his chest pushing it out. “They are strict—tight, yes?” 

You listen intently, not looking away. He seems less of a nail in the wall while he’s here, able to focus on what meals he’ll make and how to pair something nicely. That head of his moves back and forth like a bird.

“Not allowed in the военный продовольственный магазин. We only eat when we are told—least,” Nikto hitches a shoulder, blinking at a head of cabbage that he takes and places into a bag before handing it to you. “That is what military base is like. KorTac is different, only PMC. Non-affiliated.” 

“I know a little about that part,” you relay, taking the gray lump from him and carefully placing it into the basket. “What made you want to leave the forces, then? The official ones?” Your nose puffs softly. “Was it the food?” 

You feel more than see the tension fill his body, and it’s not a second later that his hand pulls from your shoulder and you blink at the back of his head as he leaves you there. Stuck on the tile below your heels, your face is open with innocent confusion. 

“Nikto…?” You call after, hiking the basket farther in your grip. But he doesn’t turn around, and soon he takes a sharp left and you’re left alone. It was like a flip had been switched inside of him, such a sudden and dangerous dismissal. 

Throat making a small noise, you frown, lips pulling down like a bent cord. 

“...Okay,” your voice whispers, and you shake your head to yourself before turning around to walk to the front. 

It didn’t take more than two steps before a man pushed past you, bumping into your shoulder as you stumbled at the sharp slam of flesh and bone. Your eyes go wide before you have to slap a hand to the metal of the nearby aisle shelves to stop gravity. Dropping the basket with a loud clatter, you call out a heavy, “Hey!”

Half on the floor, you hurriedly straighten yourself, a hand on the back of your sleeve helping. 

“I apologize, Sir, but you really need to look where you’re walking when you’re so close to someone else.” Standing, you take a deep breath and re-situate your purse quickly, pulling on the strap so you don’t lose it. “Lord, that could have been bad.”

What would have happened if you hit your head? 

The scar on the back of your skull burns.

“Seraph?” You blink, before your head swivels—the fingers letting go of your sleeve quickly. 

You’re surprised by who you see. 

“...Sergi?”

The Baker’s Boy had his dark eyes boring into you—his mess of curls looking better than they had been when you’d gone to visit him and sitting under a ball cap. There was the white glare of bandages along his cheeks and neck.

Your spine is tight. 

“Hi,” your voice is light and airy. “I didn’t,” you stutter in shock, hand moving down to grab the handles of the basket delicately. “I didn’t expect to see you here. How…how are you doing?” 

Sergi doesn’t speak. 

A small tone of uncomfortableness seeps into your chest at the intensity of those black voids. Your vision dips to the dark hoodie and pants—the way he sticks his hands into his pockets and backs up a step. 

You hadn’t noticed how large Sergi actually was. Tall, biceps built from the strain of working in the bakery every day. At his dead stare, the sides of your eyes train in, fingers tightening over the handle of your belongings in confused hesitance. 

Your gaze darts to where Nikto had disappeared and you mirror Sergi’s prior move and back up yourself—a strange game of chess. Your free hand comes to itch at your temple. 

“It’s good to see you walking.” Testing an obviously fake laugh, your arms start shaking, the painful pinch of nerves stuck under your skin. “Is the bakery going to be alright?”

Sergi’s phone goes off in his pocket, and his hand snaps to it like lightning. You flinch, heart palpitating though you don’t know why—this man couldn’t be your stalker…he…he couldn’t be. 

Then why did your hair stand on end when he looked at you like that?

Before Sergi sets the device to his ear, he turns and says in his broken English—stiffly, worriedly, “Go home, Girl. Take the man with you.” 

“Man?” You ask to air before the Baker’s Boy turns and hurries back the way he came. The thought comes slowly and in a moment of chilled air and you place one foot forward after him as your eyes go wide. “...How do you know about Nikto?”

He’s already gone. 

People walk past you on their own business, one even clipping your right shoulder again, but you don’t notice above the ringing in your ears when shadows slink past. Your chest is tight, and your lungs are held in the grip of ruthless fingers. 

Dead doves. Burnt bodies. Half a man. 

You place your free hand over your mouth, fast breath being forced from your throat. 

What does it feel like to burn?

“Why are you here?” Nikto’s angry voice is in your head just as his hand grabs onto your arm. You get pulled to face him, face devoid of blood. “Why did you not follow?”

He continues to speak, and you stare blankly into his chest as he does. Nikto’s words grow tight on his tongue, cutting out swiftly as he clocks the expression on your face. 

Terror. 

The soldier instantly grows taller, a great void looming as his head scans the aisle. He reaches for the grip of his Beretta, resting his expansive palm there as what annoyance can be gleaned dries instantly. 

Only a wolf is left behind. 

“Explain,” is what he numbly asks, and you push out on a quick breath.

“Baker’s boy—Sergi. Dark hair and eyes, tall; muscular.” 

A growl. “What did he do?”

“Nothing,” you gasp and Nikto doesn’t seem to believe you. “He didn’t do anything. I just had a strange feeling, and I-I can’t place it. He knew you were here with me.”

The hand on your arm tightens, squeezing. You pull what little safety you can from it and swaddle yourself like a child in the blanket of his aura. That packaging of brutality like tissue paper. 

“I’m gonna be sick,” you huff, body slanting forward. There was so much stress on you—taking you down with it. Days, and weeks, and months. Never getting answers, never thinking it would go this far. 

You were a model, for Christ’s sake. You starred in pictures because people said you were pretty. You don’t feel pretty. You feel violated. 

“Enough,” the man grunts, moving his grip to your shoulder to push your spine back up. He knows that the individual you speak of is gone, and his teeth grind in on themselves. “No, you are not.” 

Saliva pools in your mouth, and you stare at his shoes without saying anything in return. 

Hard fingers loop under your chin, and your gaze is forced forward—so much so like he was about to slather mascara on your lashes in the clutter of your room. Panting, you find your nose nearly brushing his as he bends his neck down into you.

“Focus, Woman.” 

Focus? Focus on what? 

You stare into the paleness of his eyes, finding the layered flecks that shift like a cursed kaleidoscope with glass bits and a broken lens. They aren’t kind eyes, you know. They’re dead and buried, already six feet under and layered with packed dirt—pounded by the path of rushing feet charging into gunfire. 

Oh, but they were beautiful. 

Forcing oxygen to come back to you, your lids flutter at the heat of his fingers under your chin, intoxicating as his thumb finds your pulse point and presses in; feeling, studying—analyzing with those cold orbs.

And so you do, even unknowingly—you focus on the raw presence of a man already long gone. On a man with cruelty laced into his DNA, seeping from his stone heart. 

Why do you feel like this? What had he done to make your face burn at the way his gaze was locked with yours? Nothing was the answer, he had done nothing. 

Then why? Why had you chosen him? The answer felt like it was on the tip of your tongue, but you can’t quite swallow it down. Damnit, your head was hurting. 

Did Nikto have a soulmate?

All at once as the word comes back in a slow crash of cold waves, the hand on your chin disappears, and you blink rapidly. 

The Russian bear grunts as you take a long breath and quickly look away from his direct gaze. Nikto’s covered face tilts, sliding over the color of your eyes and clenching his jaw before he rips his attention away. 

Your scent was in his nostrils.

“We are leaving. Немедленно.” Nikto barks, and you've checked out before you can tell him you were going to pay, the man handing over a wad of rubles from his wallet and slapping it to the front. 

He shoves past and snatches the bags, lugging all of the ingredients back to the car in one hand as his other rarely strays from his weapon. You have your arms wrapped around your waist as you hurry after, loathed to be separated from him again as your body moves to look along the open area. But no Sergi. 

Your shoulders pull in, and somehow, that doesn’t make you feel any better. 

Would he really destroy his family's bakery? Kill three people? He had never seemed the type when you had gone into that quaint building—he had been kind. Something wasn’t adding up, but at the same time…there was no mistaking that feeling in your gut. Was it all a coincidence? 

You shouldn’t have to think like this.

The drive back to your penthouse is quiet, and you desperately wish to ask what Nikto plans to do about this. The answer is apparent when the elevator door opens and he slinks off without a word—pulling his phone from his pocket and dialing up a number before he enters the downstairs storage room. 

Your eyes close in a moment of forced calm, and you grab the bags and lug them inside with a grimace on your face and a strain in your muscles. Glancing at your mounted deer head, you frown at it. 

“He wasn’t lying about ‘many’, was he?” You ask it quietly, and its gray form offers no answer as its adornments glint like stars. For the first time, the stale air makes your chest tighten.

You had everything put away by the time Nikto came back out—a long and growled call that you could hear but not understand beyond a few barks of Sergi’s name. He had sounded angry, and you’d heard his feet pacing. 

The man didn’t like interference with his charge; the officers needed to get better at their jobs.

When Niko’s gruff voice calls to you, your head shifts easily to the side from where you lay on the couch—scrolling through the texts you’d gotten from Aly and your newsfeed. 

“I am making пирожки́, Pirozhki.” Your brows pull in. Was…he not going to talk about what just happened? You potentially just got a lead on your tormenter. “You will watch, yes? Learn. Eat.” 

“Who did you call?” Your voice carries over the space as you stand. “What did they say?”

“Lead investigator,” is the stiff answer as ingredients are gathered, gloves taken off, and folded neatly before being placed on the counter. “The boy has already been cleared.”

You nearly trip before as ease yourself down into the island seat, mouth going slack as you stutter. “What? Even after this? Did you tell them that he knew about you—?”

“Their logic says that since he was in explosion, he can not be the cause.” A look is tossed over his shoulder as he washes his hands. “I told them to look again, but I am only a hired gun, Girl. No standing with them beyond prior work for military.”

His accent grows deeper and deeper with his anger, and you have a hard time understanding the last portion—nonetheless, you get the point.

“He wasn’t acting right,” you mutter to yourself, fingers intertwined on the countertop. “Maybe I was wrong, but…” Your voice trails and a cutting board is clattered to the area in front of you; you startle and look at Nikto in surprise.

Pale eyes boar.

“A feeling is all you need. Do not mistake them, they will keep you alive.”

“Little bit morbid,” you nervously chuckle, face twisting. 

His hidden throat jerks in a baritone scoff. “It is life.”

Mushrooms and potatoes are organized—minced meat separated from the head of cabbage. A bowl is produced, and water, yeast, and sugar are added in to proof. Through these quick and efficient actions, you try to get rid of the growing hunger in your stomach, or at least quell it with a glass of wine you get for yourself. 

 But you can see Nikto’s bare hands as they level out a knife and send it down into the cabbage, you lock onto the deep scars that peel over his hands as he pulls the food into two pieces. 

You restrain a small gasp, clearly able to understand what they are as the paleness of his complexion grows even lighter in those areas. Expansive—can see where the sutures had gone in; tiny dots in the flesh that pull and flex. Nikto’s brutish fingers are not saved from those marks either, and you hadn’t noticed before, but on his left hand, his index finger was shorter than the others. You can find the jagged pieces of gray skin that curl over where the last third of his digit should be.

Struggling to open your mouth and speak, you look away swiftly before a slow realization blooms in your chest.

Maybe there was a darker reason he never took off his mask. Those marks weren’t made from any kind hand.

Struggling to add this to your catalog of full files, you bring your wine glass to your lips and take a small sip, enjoying the feeling as it settles in your stomach. After a long minute of his silent work, you begin the next round of questioning, choosing not to comment.

“What do you think about all of this?” His chopping pauses but he doesn’t glance at you before he gets back into it. “And be honest, please.”

“I am always honest,” Nikto grunts, pushing away the cabbage and getting to the mushrooms with his decimated hand. A harsh sigh. “I would have this ended in a day. Pointless hoops and politics. They do not care about you, you know this?”

“Yeah, I think that’s pretty obvious,” you agree lowly, cradling your glass as you continue. “But the gifts, and all of that—do you think there’s any hope for DNA?”

“Нет. We do not.” Your heart drops. “If this individual was smart enough to fashion an explosive with that much firepower; a detonator, then there will be no remnants of him on box.” 

“The…” Your face is locked with his, and he blinks slowly like a cat. “The contents don’t worry you? The thought of more like that?” Dead doves. Dead animals. Dead people. Who was to say this creep wouldn’t kill someone else and send you their body parts next?

“I have seen worse things, Whelp,” Nikto states slowly, though not unkindly. “The problem is if you insist on it yourself.”

Your face heats at the eye contact he levels with you, and you grow somewhat sheepish, even if the conversation makes your expression serious. 

The air is hot here, and your button-up shifts as you reach to bring your drink back to you as flour is added to the yeast mixture. Nikto’s form looked funny, mixing in the white stain of the ingredient in such a regular-sized bowl. 

The man waits for your answer as he works, and he stops inadvertently when you do with a small utterance and a tense twitch of your lips.  

“I just don’t want anyone else to get hurt because of me, y’know?” Nikto flickers his eyes to stare, but he says nothing until he returns to his job a long, heated, minute later, his hand flexing over the handle of his whisk. You hear the small vibration of a grunt. The smell of yeast is in the air, mixing and swelling when the meat is added to a pan with the cabbage, mushrooms, and potatoes that had been brought to a boil prior. 

It made your stomach roll like a lava field—and you pushed out through a tight throat, “How many calories are in this?”

“Not important,” Nikto says, turning on the oven. “You will eat.”

Your tongue licks your lips, trying to taste the food in the air like a snake would; head shaking. God, that smelled good.

“It’s…not that simple, Big Guy.” Nikto scoffs. 

“You will like it. Easy dish.” You roll your eyes and let yourself acknowledge how tired you feel and it isn’t even that late into the afternoon. 

Nikto stirs the food, and you watch him break a piece of meat and check the color to see if it’s ready—you’re just about to tell him about the food thermometer in the drawer, but the words fizzle away. 

The man hums in approval and takes the pan off the heat. 

Yet the grand revelation of his ability to see in more than black and white was hurriedly cut short by the buzzing of your phone in your pants, and your slackened face is snapped away at least for a moment, though your mind runs. You peel the device out with an unsteady hand, flipping it over to stare at the text from your mother through tight revelation.

‘The investigators couldn’t find any fingerprints. They said they need more. Galina relayed that your manager wasn’t in his office when the package showed up. No one knows where it came from or who could have gotten in without being noticed by the cameras. They’ll both call you in the morning to explain.’

Your disappointments keep stacking up and up, and this just takes the cake. 

“You were right,” you tell Nikto as he folds dough and stuffs the filling in. He glances over with a twinkle in his eye. “No fingerprints.” 

“Cameras?”

“Nothing out of the ordinary. I’m getting a call in the morning.” The soldier clicks his tongue at that, moving back to grab an oven-safe vessel. You think about mentioning his ability to see color, but with how he was freely speaking to you, you thought it wrong to potentially make him shut down as he had in the elevator and at the store. 

Nikto was intent on being a brick wall.

“Loops, Girl.” He snarls. “There was none of this in my employment. We were told to shoot, we shoot.”

“I think there would be a bigger problem if you went on a killing spree, Nikto,” you half-heartedly tease, feeling worn out. “But I guess I agree with you on that.”

“Perfect. You see sense, finally.” Perhaps it was a trick of the light, but you swear you saw his eyes flicker with amusement. 

“Don’t let your head get too big,” you grumble, finishing off the last of your drink and swirling the remnants of its dark color at the bottom of your glass. “I can barely take your attitude as it is.”

“Our pride is good trait.” He lets the food cook, walking over and putting his humongous hands on the counter, either side of the cutting board from prior. Nikto looks down at you as you stare up, wanting to peel back his brain and see what is under there—a monster? Or a scarred man? 

If there was a harsh mixture of both, you’re sure that would be the answer. 

“Makes us strong.”

“Headstrong, yes,” you smirk, pointing at his chest. He scoffs, head pulling back for a moment in a rare animated display as his eyes narrow. 

“You are certainly not from Russia, Woman.” 

You raise your empty glass in your joking toast, heart beating just the tiniest bit more calm. 

“Certainly not.” Nikto barks that hyena chuckle and flicks the item with a finger, making it ping for a moment as you chuckle before setting it down to the side and sliding it away. 

“Thank you for cooking, I haven’t had a good meal in a while.”

The man hums, looking away as if not able to comprehend a kind expression freely given to him. Your heart swoons. “You have not eaten it yet,” he reminds. 

“That doesn’t mean it isn’t good.” You smile honestly at him. “I bet it’s fantastic.”

Nikto’s fingers flicker over the counter, twitching back in for a moment. But he does meet your stare, inspecting every piece of your face for a long, pulse-pounding moment. Electricity is in the air, and you don’t know if you’re the only one to feel it or not. 

You hope you’re not.

You said you wouldn’t get involved, you remind yourself, but the inner voice is tiny now. He’s not Yefim, you placate it for now with a honied vision of fake domestically with a wolf.

Nikto was the complete opposite of Yefim. 

An angel to a devil, a saint to a sinner. These men were taking over your thoughts in a ravaging war of memory and duty. Yet now…now you might have an answer as to why.

Nikto’s eyes narrow on you slowly, horribly scarred digit tapping the material under it before he clears his throat raggedly. You like his scars. 

“It will be done soon.” 

The man turns and begins cleaning up, and you ease out with a small laugh, “Are you sure you don’t want an apron?”

His annoyed growl returns, and you find you haven’t thought of Sergi or his strange behavior in a good while. 

When the food is ready, you take a single fluffy bun and put it on your plate while Nikto takes six. You have to appreciate his appetite, at least, hearing him sigh low at the small of his creation. But before he leaves to take off his mask and eat by himself, he motions a stiff hand.

“Eat.” 

You laugh, “Nikto, come on.” He isn’t laughing; isn’t blinking. Your throat bobs with a swallow, suddenly nervous. Your head moves to what you would have to cut back on later today as the scent of fresh bread and filling fills your senses.

You wanted to eat this, but you felt guilty about it. 

One bite, you tell yourself. One bite isn’t bad. 

The lack of food, and yet the temptation of it, infected your blood as Nikto watched you pick the Pirozhki up and bring it to your lips, teeth biting down into ashy cushioning before the salt of the meat and the other ingredients coated your mouth. 

Your stomach sinks. 

It was damn near heavenly.

You chew quickly as if your body is fighting itself to have you swallow it down. “It's good,” you lick your lips, hand already moving to bring it back up before you stop yourself with tension in your bones. 

“It’s,” you say again, shifting your feet from under you as you stand near the oven. “It’s very good, Nikto. Just like I thought it would be.” 

Those pale eyes, unblinking, flick down to the bun in your hand. 

“...Hearty meal,” he explains, picking up his plate. “Eat as many as you wish, yes?”

He disappears up to his room, and you hear the door shut moments later. You watch the stairs blankly, unconsciously bringing the food to your lips and nibbling on the corner of your bite.

He was a good cook—this could end up being a problem. You already had a hard time looking at yourself in the mirror; add in meals that hold higher numbers? Your esophagus was already closing in on itself. It wasn’t just as simple as telling someone to eat, especially as a model. 

You did eat, but it all was leveled and stacked. There was a limit you needed to keep. 

But, hell, this was truly delicious.

In the time you spend in the kitchen, gorging yourself with half a mind to stop and the other egging you to keep going, you think. And you wonder.

Nikto had found his soulmate. 

Could that be the reason for your attraction? For your wandering thoughts? It had to be, you reason. No one had ever caught your eye like him—the way you had become so comfortable and felt so safe around him despite his appearance and attitude. It had to be. 

Your face stills.

So why hadn’t he told you?

You mull over your racing brain, your heart skipping beats. The two of you are oblivious in opposite corners of your penthouse; your minds on the other.

Downstairs, having been sneakily placed inside your jacket pocket hours before, lays the paper envelope of a hand-written letter. 

TAGS:

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[oceaneyesinla]

I'm Here

So, Demon Slayer is back and Sanemi is looking GOOD. Combine that with me struggling, and you get self indulgent fluff

Mentions of non-sexual nudity ahead, and the fic kind of implies reader is struggling mentally. Take care of yourselves, guys <3

Enjoy!

Banner by @/cafekitsune

“What's going on with you, baby?” Sanemi's voice cut through the static in your mind, soft and soothing. He rounded the couch, flicking on the lamp next to the armchair and bathing the room in soft warm light.

You hadn't even noticed your boyfriend come in, and when you looked around the room, you were confused to see inky black through the apartment window. You swore it had been bright outside not that long ago. When your eyes finally trailed up to his face, you hated the worry lining his handsome features. Worry that you caused.

“‘M fine, Sanemi. Just tired.” Not exactly a lie, but not exactly the truth either. You were tired, but it was quickly becoming apparent that you were anything but fine. A fact you knew all too well, but were powerless to do anything about.

Sanemi moved closer in slow steps, almost as if you were some skittish doe he didn't want to scare away. He knelt in front of you, one hand resting on your knee while the other came up to cradle your face. Warmth bled from his palm into the skin of your cheek and you shivered - a chill had developed while you were sitting there zoning out, and it was only now you realised you felt cold.

“Did you eat today?” You wanted to lie, to spare him the worry, but it was impossible with the way those violet eyes stared into yours. Some scared, hurting part of you expected resentment or anger - wanted it, even - but all you could see was loving concern. Guilt and shame bubbled up in your chest as you shook your head; a tiny gesture that he noticed anyway.

The hand on your cheek moved a little higher, and the pad of his thumb brushed over the bags you knew were sunken under your eyes, a permanent feature these days. You had tried so hard not to burden Sanemi with how awful you felt, but you knew the signs were becoming too obvious for such an observant man to not notice.

“Okay. You go shower; get into some warm clothes. I’ll see what we’ve got in the cupboards, okay?” His voice was still soft and his hand was still a reassuring presence on your thigh. However, just the thought of everything involved with showering overwhelmed you. You would have to pick up clean towels from the cupboard, and clean clothes from the wardrobe. Then you would have to actually get into the shower, and you knew your hair needed washing, and on a normal day, that wouldn’t be a problem.

Today, even getting off the couch right now felt like it would take all your energy. Tears welled in your eyes and began to slip down your cheeks as you sat there, paralysed, “I-I can’t.”

If Sanemi was surprised by your sudden tearfulness, he didn’t show it. He moved closer, your legs opening to let him slot between them. Wrapping you up in an all encompassing hold, one hand landed on the back of your head and the other wrapped around you, cradling you against his body as you cried into the crook of his neck.

You didn’t know how long you sat there, slotted together like puzzle pieces. You stayed with your face pressed into his neck, and slowly, you relaxed into his warmth. Everything seemed a little less overwhelming, a little less terrible when you were pressed this close to the love of your life.

He began to speak and you could feel the rumble of his voice through his chest, “Hold on tight.”

You didn’t know what he was planning, but you did as he asked, clinging to him with your legs wrapped around his waist. A little squeak escaped you as you suddenly moved, and you felt his chuckle rumble through his chest as clearly as you heard it next to your ear. He stood up, supporting your body with one hand under your butt and one around your waist.

He started moving around the apartment, and you reluctantly lifted your head to see where he was taking you. As you watched, head resting on his shoulder, he carried you into the bedroom, releasing his hold on your waist to dig around in your drawers. You noticed he was pulling out your favourites, and even the fluffy socks Kanae gave you for your last birthday. As he moved on, you pressed a kiss to his neck in silent thanks, receiving a squeeze to the plush of your butt in response.

In the bathroom, he lowered you gently onto the toilet seat, pulling away and you felt another couple of tears fall as you realised what he was doing. Towels on the rack, shower turned on, your clothes neatly stacked - he was preparing everything for you, making sure all you had to do was get under the spray.

He returned to stand in front of you, hairbrush in hand and pulled you to your feet. Gentle hands turned you around and released your hair from the messy ponytail you had pulled it into. The hairbrush started to run through your hair and Sanemi carefully untangled the knots that had formed from several days of not bothering to brush it out. He murmured quiet apologies every time he hit a snag and soon, the brush was passing smoothly from root to ends. Once he was satisfied, you felt him lean in to press a kiss to the crown of your head.

Turning around, you met his soft smile with one of your own; the action feeling more genuine than it had in days. He reached for the hem of your shirt, eyes flicking to meet yours, “May I?”

At your nod, he lifted the shirt up and over your head, undressing you with the same tender care he had shown ever since he found you sitting on the couch. His skin was warm against yours as he pressed a delicate kiss to your tummy before he slid your underwear down, prompting you to lift each foot in turn so he could remove the fabric and toss it into the laundry basket. Each gentle touch was lifting the clouds from your mind, and you felt more human than you had in weeks.

He was still crouched at your feet, so you bent down to kiss his forehead, lips lingering before you stepped into the shower, the warm water relaxing you immediately. Of course, it was exactly what you needed and the love you felt for Sanemi burned a little brighter.

So focused on the way the water was beating down on your skin, you jumped when hands came to rest on your waist, manoeuvring you so their owner could slip in behind you.

“Sanemi?” You weren’t sure what his plan was, but you let him move you anyway.

It was only when he pulled the shower head down, gently pushing your head back so he could run the water over your hair without getting it on your face that you realised what he was doing. He knew you usually washed your hair every couple of days, and he knew you hadn’t done it in over a week, and after tonight, you knew he had noticed why. So he was doing it for you.

You couldn’t stop the silent tears that fell, and Sanemi was kind enough not to comment on them as he continued, treating your body like the most precious porcelain as he made sure you were clean, occasionally leaving featherlight kisses on your skin. The pure love and tender intimacy in his actions were balms on the countless little wounds in your soul. You weren’t sure you deserved such open affection, but for tonight, you would allow yourself the indulgence. 

Sanemi moved to wash himself once you were scrubbed and relaxed, and you watched the defined muscles of his back ripple as he lifted his arms to wash his hair. Muscles that had held you steady all night, carrying your weight like it was nothing. You knew he was aware of your staring because when he turned back to you, he was smirking. Normally, there would be teasing from both sides. Tonight, he would let you drink in the sight of him, and you would allow the little ego boost your adoring eyes gave him.

There were still a million thoughts in your head, a million negative emotions just waiting for their moment to strike. A shower wouldn’t be enough to wash them away - you would need time, and probably some intervention. However, as Sanemi towelled you off and dressed you up, making sure your hair didn’t drip onto your clothes, you felt a little flame of hope start to grow. Your Sanemi would be right by your side.

[howlyourmelancholy]

Three of a Perfect Pair

summary: in which you're invited to join.

warnings: reader is invited for a moment into wolfstar's relationship. not poly!marauders. threesome. mentions of a posessive sirius. hinted at remus being the dom.

words: 665.

notes: honestly i'm a little disappointed in myself with this one. it just doesn't feel as good as earlier works and i think that's because i've been sick.

This was not what you’d expected when the boys first approached you. Both Remus and Sirius seemed so confident in themselves and secure in their relationship, and the thought of them inviting a third person, let alone you, seemed entirely insane. You knew that Sirius and Remus were wildly possessive of each other, but they'd insisted it was okay, and you'd agreed.

The rules were made perfectly clear—you weren't to be intimate with either of them unless the other was present. You weren't to flirt with them or touch them without the others explicit permission. And you weren't dating them. And that was fine.

But this, your current circumstance with the two boys, was not at all what you'd been expecting; in fact, it exceeded your expectations. Remus had laid himself on the bed, demanding that you both straddle him—Sirius on his waist and you on his face. It amazed you how talented Remus was and how he could split his focus so beautifully between the two of you.

His wicked tongue snacked between your slick folds, prodding at your hole with expertise, making you gasp into Sirius’ kiss. Remus grabbed your hips to pull you against his mouth as Sirius slowly seated himself on his cock, causing both of your lips to part in breathy moans felt against the others tongues. Sirius looked like a beautiful piece of art, with his lips parted and his inky-black hair a mess, as he took every inch of his lover while his own cock bobbed beautifully against his stomach.

You wanted to take him in your hands to feel how hard he was beneath your fingers. You wanted to take him in your mouth until the wiry black hairs at the base of his cock tickled your nose. You could do neither. Sirius fisted a hand in your hair to cement your mouth to his so that he could kiss you as though it were his last night on earth.

It was messy— with open mouth, teeth, tongue, and saliva. You weren't going to complain, not when Remus’ tongue was driving you closer and closer to orgasm in record time. Sirius fondled you without shame or hesitation, touching here, there, and everywhere he could reach, paying special attention to your nipples as he pawed your breasts with heavy hands.

Unable to help yourself, you reached out and wrapped a hand around his cock, stroking him with slow, firm flicks of your wrist while Remus' thrust into him. He felt like iron beneath your fingers, impossibly hard. You were both lost, entirely under Remus' control. You cried out when the boy's tongue pushed through your folds and into your hole, causing your thighs to shudder and shake around his head.

"T-here!"

Your voice was muffled by Sirius' tongue in your mouth, but Remus understood and prodded with his tongue again, hitting the same spot again and again. You braced a hand against his abdomen, which dipped beneath your touch as pleasure rippled through him in time with both of yours.

“Oh, fuck!” Sirius gasped against your lips.

If all of your senses weren't heightened and drawn so tight within your body, you would have been embarrassed about how quickly you came—a record time, to be sure. Had it been five minutes? More or less? It truly didn't matter. White-hot pleasure lashed through your body, starting in your toes and crawling up your spine until it was pouring from your mouth and into Sirius', where it retraced its path down his spine.

Fireworks exploded like the Fourth of July behind your closed eyelids. But it wasn’t just fireworks. It was like shooting stars and meteor showers, and the northern lights were dancing through your veins, setting your whole body alight.

You felt Sirius twitch beneath your fingers, felt Remus’ stomach dip beneath your hand, and felt him groan against your cunt, as they followed swiftly behind you, hurting towards their own release like a train with its breaks cut.