#mildly suggestive implications

[fours-writings]

Y/n’s guide to where to and to not touch a mer!

(Based on personal experiences, does not speak for any mer species as a whole)

[mhathotfic]

Sleep deprived Izuku has no politeness filter and gets really clingy with you. You keep warning your friends that you really shouldn’t be out when he’s just finished a long case but they always insist on going out for drinks to celebrate.

Then it’s 1 in the morning, you’re trying to get your boyfriend to stop antagonizing his childhood friend/rival and get him to go home because he needs to sleep.

You’re so used to him being grabby like this that you don’t even pay attention to the fact he’s pulled you onto his lap, letting his hand roam your plush body. Completely unaware of how much pda you’re displaying or how it looks to anyone else in the little bar you were dragged to.

And a glimpse of your usual, sweet boyfriend shines when he smiles at you and he’s about to agree, you know he would have but

“Do us a fuckin’ favor and fuck off already you horny fucks”

“Aww! What’s the matter Kacchan? Sad because you can’t find a partner like mine? Must be so sad and lonely for you and your hand!”

Well, there goes any chance of getting home before 4 am.

[monicahar]

“my wife.”

how they address you. why does it make your heart skip a beat each time?

characters; neuvillette, wriothesley

—female pronouns obvi, aaaa this is so random😭 fluff, tad bit of crack, has suggestive themes/dirty jokes cause that's my humor in general, just tryna get into writing again heehaa don't mind me ʘ⁠‿⁠ʘ

NEUVILETTE always accompanies the term with unmatched affection. it rolls off his tongue perfectly like a match made in heaven, coupled with the serene image of you instantaneously appearing in his mind before he even thinks of the uttering the endearing term. he still finds it surreal that you are both even lawfully married, yet the way he calls you his wife is already on instinct. is it too presumptuous of him?

well, in the end, he can't find any means to worry about it when you seem to equally adore the nickname.

“ooohh, say it again, say it again!”

he can't tell whether he married a child or not, but he still obliges your request and calls you his wife affectionately once more.

meanwhile, furina nearly gags everytime she hears him say it so softly—like using any other tone when referring to you would land him in the hands of the fortress of meropide. sure—she might've been the one who set up both of you—but the drama and thrill akin to watching a romance film has delightfully ended, and she can only meddle so much in marital matters. the iudex just might actually have her head in a platter if she were to do anything mischievous at that point.

but while a happy neuvillette is running around announcing 'my wife' this and 'my wife' that, you are currently stuck on what to call him in return, sadly enough.

“at this point, i think i'm just going to call you daddy.”

it was unfortunate with the way he choked on some of the water he was drinking—well, thank goodness he didn't spill much as before. for this wasn't the first time you said something unprompted while he was in peace with his water—he can only internally sigh.

“and what exactly has influenced you to arrive at such a conclusion, my wife?” he does not miss the tiny shudder of your body that followed the endearment. your face burns a tad bit at that, and he softly chuckles.

“your effect on me is no joke, you know?” you pout at his amused smile, “the way you refer to me so sweetly makes me want to call you my dearest husband everytime.”

“i don't recall voicing any complaints. is something else holding you back from doing so?”

you nod solemnly in agreement at that, which prompts him to raise a brow in mild curiousity.

“thing is, i really like calling you by your first name. same with monsieur neuvilette. there's something mildly erotic within it—you get what i mean, hehehe...” he only stares at you, clearly unimpressed, and a bit concerned at the implication. you clear your throat, apologizing under your breath.

“still—it's such a devastating predicament to be unable to choose between the three.” you sigh defeatedly, moving to slump your entire weight on his lap. you mutter, “my dearest husband monsieur neuvillette...mmm, no, that's too long.”

chuckling at your dramatic antics, he plants a soothing hand on your waist, the other fixing your wrinkled clothing as you practically melt against his hold. “and you thought settling on daddy was the appropriate option?”

“i'm not hearing any objections.” you jest, feeling cheeky.

“please refrain from calling me such a thing in the eyes of the public atleast.”

“...huh? you're actually allowing it??”

WRIOTHESLEY on the other hand, says it as if he's flaunting. it leaves his lips like a taunt each time, indirectly telling the other party 'i have a hot wife and you dont' even though most of the time the people he mentions you to don't even know what you actually look like. it's silly, childish even, but you still love it nonetheless.

sigewinne and the other inmates have collectively told you that ever since you got married, he has never uttered your actual name to anyone else. some find it weird, some find it somehow disrespectful, and some are now convinced he's crazily obsessed with you, and now he's showing it off every chance he gets, much to everyone's dismay.

it's arrived to the point where a small percentage of people have actually forgotten about your name, and now refer to you as the duke's wife, or even duchess, to which you made a face at. that's kind of pushing it by then.

anywho, in the end, it's funny and endearing, maybe even makes you a bit giddy, but there is no way you're telling him that. the situation might escalate even more if possible.

“you know, my wife is very mean to me today.”

as a pair of strong yet gentle arms wrap around your waist, you resist the growing smile on your face, deciding to mess with your husband for a bit.

“is that so?” you continue your chores without a care in the world. he huffs.

“mhm. she won't look me in the eye the whole day, even though she seemed sooo happy last night.” face instantly burning, you hiss as you slap his arm in a fit of embarrassment, pulling a hearty chuckle from the man behind you.

“—and now she's hitting me as well. i can't believe this.” you both know very well he was not fazed in the slightest bit.

“if her husband wasn't such a pervert then maybe—”

his facade cracks as he forces out an awkward laugh, “hey now, baby, you know i'm nothing like that.”

“wriothesley.”

he clears his throat awkwardly, “okay, maybe a little. it's exclusive for you though! my wife doesn't have to be so mean about it, you're making me reallyyy sad here, y'know?”

there it is again, you think. that nickname. that damned word that makes you want to turn around and smash your lips against his and—wait, hold yourself together! don't forget the reason you're being cold to him!

“you deserve to feel remorse. i've been struggling to even move the whole day because of you.”

you go rigid.

you didn't mean for that to come out so bitter...oh no.

“oh. so that's what this is about.” you don't even have to turn around to know that there's a smug look on his stupidly handsome face, his grip on your waist turning into soothing circles as he presses a kiss to your neck.

“if my wife wanted a massage, she could've just said so.” it's husky when it leaves his mouth, leaving you to shiver with the chills he enunciates.

flustered, you completely disregard the way your knees buckle at the endearment laced with that low voice of his, hitting his arm once more, earning a tiny 'ouch' from him.

“pervert. i want rest, not another round!”

“heh, i didn't say anything about another round, my perverted wife.”

“you—” you are abrupt cut off as you yelp in surprise when your feet are raised off the ground, your face now much closer to your husband's as he carries you gently in his arms.

“shhh, just let me take you to bed. if my wife was feeling terrible the whole day, she should've just told me in the first place so she could stay in, don't you think?”

he's right, but you're still angry. “shut up.”

“just letting you know i'm not completely at fault, wife.” you attempt to ignore the furious beating of your heart, face burning at his smug expression. “i'm not the only one who wanted it.”

hsr version...? if i feel like it...🤔🤔

[makuzume]

How about the Genshin Husbandos accidentaly finding an unused pregnancy test in their gf's bag?

Bonus if theres some breeding undertones 😭

Genshin Husbandos Finding an Unused Pregnancy Test

Characters: Wriothesley, Diluc

Content: Fem! Reader; Breeding implication; Touching, Highly suggestive 🔞 (Wriothesley); Slightly suggestive (Diluc)

[My Masterlist]

-Wriothesley-

"Hey babe, were you able to buy me some tea from the store?"

"Yeah I did. You can get it, it's just in my bag."

"Alright, thanks."

Wriothesley walked over to to where you had set down your purse along with a few other purchases you bought after taking a quick trip to the surface for some errands.

He rummaged through your bag, looking through each small paperbag that could've possiby kept his prized box of special tea.

'Some gum... no.'

'This? Oh, it's just some bandages. Probably for my fists again. Thank you in advance babe.'

'Where is it?'

'Huh? ...What's this?'

He picked up another small paperbag, but upon feeling the package, it was quite a bit longer in shape than the square box of tea he was hoping for. Mildly curious, he took out the contents of the paperbag, only to be revealed that it was actually an unused pregnancy test.

His eyes widened slightly, his expression confused. He instictively turned his head towards your direction as if expecting to get an explanation right at that moment, however, he found you standing by the wardrobe, changing into your sleepwear with your back turned to him, casually minding your own business.

For some reason, it felt like this was already some sort of pregnancy reveal to him with the amount of shock you had given him, but he didn't know if he was supposed to see this just yet.

He quickly hid the pregnancy test back into its proper place and quickly looked for his original objective. Wriothesley tried to act like as if he hadn't seen anything suspicious. "Ah..., here it is! Thanks babe." He raised the box of tea to show you, slightly jumpy.

His tone had sounded a little unnatural, voice accidentally releasing the wrong tone, sounding as if he were actually a bit too excited to have found the tea. You simply look over your shoulder a little bit confused, but you nod anyway, giving him a 'you're welcome' nod and continue on with changing into your sleep attire.

Silently, Wriothesley started to make some tea to appear busy as he began to think about the situation at bay.

'Does she think she's pregnant..?'

The both of you regularly fuck pretty hard, so he guesses it's not really impossible. Quite likely to heppen, actually, even though the both of you were pretty careful when you hook up.

You've been together for a while now and the topic of children didn't really seem to be an issue with the both of you before, in fact, you also seemed somewhat thrilled- happily joking about having 'little Wriothesleys' getting into trouble possibly from boxing with their pre-school classmates.

Wriothesley was still making his tea, stirring the spoon while he pondered. He was a little shaken up at first, he had to admit, since he never actually imagined having children in the first place.

Deep down though, he's not very certain if he'll actually be a great father to begin with.

But the image of your smile as you casually spoke so happily about 'little Wriothesleys' and 'little yous' got him to think about it some more.

After the initial shock, he bagan to calm down, finding himself to be imagining more about the future with you: a future where you become the mother of his children and the both of you raising them- having a family together.

The thought seemed to have excited him at this point, something was awakening deep within him, and his breeding insticts were kicking in, telling him that now, that seems like a pretty good idea.

And other than that, there is no escpaing the fact there is something down there that was also awakening as well.

After he finished making the tea, he glanced in your direction, noticing how you had already changed into the night gown he got for you before, sitting at the edge of the bed, your pretty side profile facing his direction as you rummaged through your purchases, innocently.

Your night gown had a low cut at the front, showing more of your bare cleavage. The fabric was silky and thin, showing off your perked up buds due to the cold within the fortress walls, his arousal only growing more and more at the sight.

Wriothesley approached you, uncaring about the tea he had just made, and sat directly behind you. Using his strength, he pulled you closer to him, his arms wrapping around your waist, embracing you tightly, making sure to press your bodies together, leaving no space in between.

His breath was warm as he exhaled on the nape of your neck before he burried his face into your shoulder, a somewhat hungry nibble was placed there, and you can tell, that right now, he was feeling very hot.

His hand eagerly, but slowly, slid up to your chest, firmly grabbing one of your breast and gently massaging it with his big, rugged hands. The other hand gently squeezed your waist as he kept you close to him, holding back from accidentally squeezing you too hard. He still had to restrain himself until he was given your permission.

The smooth, silky texture of the dress further made the feeling more sensational for you, but at the moment, you wished that there was nothing in the way between your skin and his warm touch.

Wriothesley's breathing had turned uneven, and his eyes displayed hunger as the warmth inside him grew stronger, his insticts more unbearable to control as he kept thinking about the future he had been imagining... a future with having a family with you.

Perhaps a subconscious part of him wanted to make sure he'd be fucking you good tonight until that future that he's imagining becomes a reality.

"Babe, you're not tired yet... are you?"

-Diluc-

Diluc scavanged through the shelves, trying to find out where he had accidentally set down his keys this time.

He had already checked most of the places that he thought he could've placed them, and the only area left was through your drawer.

He supposed you wouldn't mind it much if he checked your drawer real quick; The spare key was with Elzer at the moment, who was currently on a business trip for a few days in Sumeru, so it couldn't be helped. He just decided to make a mental note for himself to arrange your things back in exact same way as you left it. He did find it in that drawer. It seems like it must've fell in there while the both of you were getting ready for work that morning.

Diluc sighed in relief to have finally spotted the set of keys he had been looking for since this afternoon. But as soon as he reached into your drawer to grab it, he noticed something quite peculiar sitting right next to it.

A pregnancy test.

"A... pregnancy test..?" He questioned it, a bit surprised as he carefully picked it up.

It made Diluc wonder if you might have been experiencing the symptoms recently, thus making you suspect the possibility of being pregnant.

The both of you hadn't really made any decision about having any children yet, so he was a bit unsure about how this situation is suposed to make the both you feel.

It also made him wonder why you haven't told him anything about this. Even if it were merely just a suspicion, he still would've wanted to be right beside you through it all, regardless.

In a way, he started to worry if you had secretly been experiencing headaches, vomitting, and going to check ups by yourself- Alone, without telling him. That would've meant that you had to take care of yourself and go through all these feelings and emotions on your own, which got him even more concerned for you.

Were you afraid of what Diluc might think about it? He decided in his mind: to confront you about it once you came home and clarify the situation with you.

He patiently waited on the bed, holding the unused pregnancy test in his hands, thinking more about it, the possibility having a positive result.

He began to imagine it.

'Honestly...'

He bagan to imagine the future of having a family together.

'I wouldn't mind...'

'I wouldn't mind having children with her...'

It's actually quite a pleasant thought: the idea of having a cute and happy little family with you. It made Diluc remember his earlier days with his father, Master Crepus; It did indeed hold some of his favorite childhood memories... and a part of him wondered...

'Could I turn out to be a great father just like him...? Just like my own father..?'

He wanted to, and he'd do everything he can to make sure of it.

Diluc would want to make sure his own children would experience all the joy and happiness there is to offer, just as how he experienced it himself while he was growing up.

The thought somehow managed to make his lips curl slightly into a small smile, his eyes turning more gentle as he stared at the pregnancy test he held in his hands.

As if the timing were set by fate, at that moment, you walked in, a surprised and slightly panicked expression visible on your face once you spotted the item that Diluc was holding.

Diluc stood up to face you after he noticed your presence.

You tried to explain right away, seeming a bit embarassed about the situation, but Diluc reassured you that he doesn't take the situation negatively. So with that, you relaxed yourself, and calmly admitted to having suspicions of being pregnant but you still weren't sure whether it were just a false alarm or not.

Diluc asked you to sit down to talk things through.

"I... I was a little worried at first... since we haven't exactly made any plans about having a baby just yet.. but... after thinking about it... it... doesn't sound so bad..." You said as your eyes fell to the ground, a nervous expression present on your face.

"I wasn't sure if you'd feel ready to start a family with me right now... so I first wanted to make sure before even thinking about what to do or tell you..."

Diluc scanned your worried expression. He felt upset to see you look so nervous and uncertain.

He reached your for hand gently and gave it a gentle squeeze. Your eyes meet his and he gives you a soft and loving smile.

"... the idea doesn't sound so bad to me either..."

After the both of you sat down for a brief discussion, it was clear for the both of you that regardless of the outcome of the test, the both of you felt the same way:

You and Diluc were actually a bit fond of the idea of starting a family together one day, and regardless of the outcome of the test, be it a positiv or negative result, none of you would have any complaints.

Your worries seemed to have completely faded, all that remained was the feeling of relief.

You sighed and returned the squeezed on his hand gently. Diluc and you began talking a little bit more about the topic of having children together, the both of you now seeming even more enthusiastic about the idea.

"If you're absolutely certain that's how you truly feel..." Diluc softly looked into your eyes as he slightly leaned in towards you, a loving yet somewhat embarassed expression was vissible on his gentle features. His cheeks lightly flush in a light shade of red and as well as on the tips of his ears, his face mere inches away from yours.

"If you'd like... would you... like to try making one with me?"

[Note: Choose your flavor sweet or spicy. (I accidentally made a cute ending and a horny ending)]

Check out my other works [My Masterlist]

[seonghwaddict]

★ NEVER SAY NEVER. [ 009 ] flowers on vines.

synopsis. something about the eight most well-known boys of your campus just didn't sit right with you, so you never gave any effort to interact with them. but after a series of… interesting incidents, they can't seem to leave you alone. pairing. college students! vampires! ot8! ateez x fem! reader. genre. fluff, angst, eventual smut, college au, vampire au. chapter warnings. mildly suggestive content, implication of size kink. word count. 3k

　　　　　　　　chapter viii // chapter ix // chapter x

With a week left for the project, thirteen out of the fourteen had come and gone with the snap of a finger. You were aware time seemed to go so fast because of the person you were partnered with. Wooyoung had a way of getting the most stubborn of people to have the most fun. Meeting with him—and his friends, or, you supposed, your friends—nearly every day a week for months, it wasn’t a surprise that it went by so quickly.

You worked very well together, a shock to you initially but after getting so close to him it made sense. Not to mention how close you’ve gotten to his friends, who you now also considered some of your own best friends and loved. Not that you loved them, but you thought they were cool and fun and nice and unbelievably handsome and-

Your thoughts were quickly cut off by a knock on your studio door that cut through the music playing from your bluetooth speaker. Well, “studio” was a bit of an exaggeration.

When you and Sangmi first moved into this apartment, it became apparent to the two of you that there was an extra room. Of course, knowing that she was a dance student and probably practised for the majority of the day, you let her have the extra room but she quickly shot you down and told you to use it for your art instead. It wasn’t spacious enough to be a dance studio, anyway.

There was space for your assortment of shelves and easels, a long table stretched the length of the wall under the single window in the room, paint tubes, brushes and palette knives scattered all over the surface and various filled sketchbooks, new and scrapped canvases crammed just below the table on the equally long shelf.

You set a small couch next to the door, the wall behind it decorated with several of your paintings you favoured over the others. Sometimes, while you were working, you let Sangmi sit on the couch and relax, either watching you or doing something of her own as you enjoyed each other’s presence.

You set your paintbrush down next to your palette on the table and wiped your paint stained hands on a cloth before opening the door.

“Hey, I’m gonna go to the dance studio for a few hours.” Sangmi told you as you stepped aside to let her in. She looked at the painting of Wooyoung you were working on, the reference picture a screenshot of the dance video he filmed, taped to the top part of the easel. “Oh, it’s coming along so well!”

Over the past weeks she’s been checking on you and your progress, reminding you to eat whenever you get too carried away with painting. She’s seen all the stages and all the discarded versions of the painting, as well as all your frustration when you couldn’t get things to look quite right.

The canvas was fairly large, a magnificent oil painting of Wooyoung finally living up to your visions on the fabric—so you figured there wouldn’t be a need for smaller paintings as well. The dance was a contemporary one, choreographed to a song that made use of traditional instruments and performed on the stage of the university’s auditorium. The part you chose to paint was an almost breathtaking point of the choreography where he switched from sharp movements to an almost trance-like slowness, looking up with one hand elegantly reaching upwards. There was no denying his talent. 

The lighting from the stage’s spotlight was already dramatic, but you tweaked it on your canvas, adding more contrast and a soft glow to his illuminated features to create a more jarring effect. He looked ethereal with the way you painted him.

A couple minutes later, Sangmi left and you could continue painting in peace. Well, until the doorbell rang, at least. With a groan, you set your paintbrush down and walked into the hall to see who you needed to buzz in. As soon as you saw who was waiting outside the building, your eyes lit up and you wasted no time in hitting the button to unlock the door.

You practically ran to the bathroom to wash the paint off your fingers. By the time he arrived at your door, you already cleaned yourself up a bit and made a bit of an effort to sort out your messy hair. With a deep breath, you opened the door and practically threw yourself on him.

“Gosh, I thought I’d never see you again!” You pretended to cry into his chest as your embraced him tightly.

But Yunho only chuckled, ruffling your hair. “Oh, don’t be dramatic.”

You were only half joking. With you focused on your painting and him having to attend shootings and rehearsals for the end of year movie of the acting students, you hadn’t seen each other in a while. Each of the artistic majors had some kind of collaborative showcase near the end of the year; this year art majors and dancers worked together, the film majors worked with the actors, and the music majors worked with the theatre students. For that reason, you couldn’t find a lot of time to see half of the boys in general. 

“That’s an ironic thing to say for an actor.” You stepped away from him with a giddy laugh, noticing the bags in his hand and pointing at them. “What’s that?”

“I’m glad you asked,” Yunho smiled and walked past you to set the bags on the small breakfast table between the kitchen and living area. “I brought food. I didn’t know what you wanted,” he began taking different containers out of the bags, “so I got a variety—some soups, tteokbokki, fried chicken, japchae, gimbap and, of course, rice.”

“Thank you so much, but really didn’t have to get all this-“

He cut you off with a wave of his hand. “Don’t worry about it, I want to treat you to some delicious food.”

After a moment of you biting your lips with uncertainty, you nodded gratefully and moved to the kitchen to grab utensils and bowls. 

The two of you conversed comfortably as you stuffed yourselves full with the food he brought. You asked about the movie but he’d only give you answers so vague he may not have said anything at all; “What is it about?” “Well, you know, characters and stuff.” “Yunho, please!” “Ok, ok, fine… it’s a romance and involves characters.”

Though you didn’t really notice it, he paid a lot of attention to you. Whether you were talking or just eating, he was constantly taking notes in his mind. When you briefly mentioned a movie you liked, he later reminded himself to watch it when he had the time. Or when your eyes gave a slightly different reaction to a particular dish that showed you enjoyed it, he later reminded himself to make sure to order that dish next time he brings you food. Even when he was the one talking, he was so focused on the warmth in your face as you listened to him that he nearly lost his train of thought several times.

You told him about the progress of your painting, but adamantly refused to show it to him even when he begged so prettily. However, he quickly quelled his curiosity as you said something about wanting to surprise him and the rest of the guys. Something unfamiliar in his chest clenched when you giggled at his pout, reaching your hand over to pat his forearm.

“But I want to see your paintings!” He huffed jokingly, making you laugh again.

“I can just paint something for you out here.”

He seemed to be considering the offer for a while and then his pout disappeared, his eyes lighting up even though there was a darker glint in his eyes you couldn’t quite decipher. A smirk spread across his face.

“What if… you paint me?”

“Yeah, sure, I’ve thought about using you as a reference so-”

“No, no, you misunderstood me,” he let out a mischievous little chuckle that twisted your stomach, “I mean, what if you paint on me?”

“O-oh…” Mildly surprised by the request, you blinked. “Are you, um… are you sure you’d want that?”

His eyes crinkled as he smiled at you. “Of course I do! But if you don’t feel comfortable doing it, you don’t have to.”

With a newfound determination to make him happy, you nodded and got up, telling him to stay where he was seated while you went to grab some paint. Deciding oil paints weren’t the best idea, you settled on gouache, something between watercolour and acrylic that would wash off easily. You grabbed a few clean brushes and walked out with everything in your hands.

The sight that waited for you in the living room had your breath caught in your throat. Yunho was still there, as you had asked, but he had gone to the bathroom and grabbed a towel to lay on the floor.

He was on top of the towel.

Laying face down.

Shirtless.

You were glad he wasn’t facing you, otherwise he would’ve seen the way you had to turn around to pull yourself together. There was no denying how well-built Yunho’s body was—or any of their bodies, in fact—but seeing it so bare, despite only seeing his back, did things to you. For the sake of the friendship, you swallowed down the nervousness bubbling inside you and turned back around, grabbing a cup of water and a small towel from the kitchen before walking to where he laid himself down and kneeling next to his body.

You set your supplies next to you and took a breath. He sensed you next to him and turned his head to look at you sideways.

“Something wrong, tiny?”

The nickname only added into that static feeling of nervousness but you still shook your head, beginning to dip one of the brushes in water. “Everything’s fine, just relax, please.”

Yunho nodded and sighed softly, turning his head to the other side and closing his eyes. As you inspected your colour palette, you took a moment to think of what to paint on him. What would he like?

Finally, you decided to just let your hands take over instead of thinking about it too carefully. Knowing him, he’d be happy no matter what you decided to draw. Holding your breath, you let the brush lathered with paint touch his skin. There was no mistaking the way the hair at the nape of his neck stood up with goosebumps as he shivered ever so slightly. You briefly apologised about the paint being cold, but he didn’t mind at all. 

You drew a wavy, thin, sage green line from his left shoulder diagonally down to the left side of his waist, watching as the damp bristles glided over his muscles. They weren’t as defined as an athlete’s, but they were there, soft indications of his fitness.

As you let your mind and paintbrush wander, you found yourself turning that line into a vine of flowers and leaves. The style was almost impressionistic, barely abstract and precise smudges of colours that resembled plants you didn’t know the names of. With each stroke of the brush and twitch of his muscles, your shoulder relaxed and you let yourself bask in the moment just as he was.

Soon enough, you were happy with your creation and sat back to inspect it. Feeling the absence of your brushstrokes, Yunho turned his head to look at you again.

“Done?”

You tilted your head one way and then the other, looking at it from different angles before nodding with satisfaction. He gave you a toothy smile.

“Do you wanna do the front too, tiny?”

“Sure- wait, what?” Your eyes snapped to his, his question making your face feel warm. Painting on his naked front torso seemed considerably more… intimate than painting on the plane of his back.

“Yeah, like, paint on the front? Maybe you can connect the designs.”

And so you found yourself painting a similar vine on his chest after he laid himself on his back—of course, he had waited until you told him the paint was dry in fear of ruining your hard work. This vine started from his waist where the vine on his back ended and creeped up to his neck, disappearing behind his ear.

Throughout the process, you had to keep reminding yourself not to let your hands indulge in a few caresses of his porcelain skin, gaslighting yourself into believing he was just a canvas. But the way he was looking at you didn’t help much.

His eyes almost looked glossy as the reflection of the ceiling lamp’s light danced in them, looking at you with something you could only compare to adoration. You didn’t hate it at all, but you weren’t sure how to feel about it.

You also weren’t sure how you ended up in this position. At some point you must’ve been so focused, you didn’t notice him move you to sit on his upper thighs. Straddling him. But you didn’t want to make things awkward and move off him (not to mention that you greatly liked this position), so you stayed and continued your work from on top of him. You desperately tried to ignore the size difference that seemed so much more obvious when you were on him like this while he, on the contrary, revelled in it.

And at first you could feel your heart pounding in your chest, threatening to break through your rib cage. But the erratic beating soothed itself; it calmed down quickly when it came to terms with the fact that you were safe in his vicinity. He was safe.

Painting his front was similar to his back, his muscles twitching every time you brushed over them with paint. Now that you were seeing him like this, you nearly asked him never to put on a shirt again. 

You found yourself adding details that were ultimately meaningless and would most definitely go unnoticed, but you weren’t quite ready to move away from him. Not when he was looking at you with such round, tender eyes.

“Can I take a picture of this?”

His voice seemed slightly deeper than usual, perhaps because he hadn’t used it in a while. His question briefly caught you off guard, but you realised that it was kind of cute, really. So you nodded without lifting your eyes from the area you were painting just next to his abs.

Yunho’s hand reached over to the coffee table and he slid his phone off the surface. First he took a picture from his own point of view, looking down his chest to see one of your hands painting gorgeous flowers while your other one rested on his free hand’s forearm, the way you straddled him so perfectly just further down the shot.

The next picture he took was a landscape oriented photo, his hand outstretched to the side. This shot depicted the scene from the side, both of your smiling faces in the picture, as well as the bend of your arm as you painted near his neck and the soft arch of your back as you leaned over him ever so slightly. The way his free hand’s fingers rubbed and tapped their way up your thighs until they reached your waist went unnoticed by the camera.

While you were very focused on painting, you did eventually relax enough to let your own free hand explore his torso. With one hand focused on refining the flowers, the other glided over wherever the paint wasn’t touching, following the dips and rises of his body. It wasn’t until you accidentally passed your thumb over one of his nipples that he made an effort to stop you.

When it happened, he let out a shaky breath that seemed somewhat like a silent whimper, he raised a hand to close around your wrist and lifted it away from his chest. After he muttered a “tiny, please” you nodded and relaxed your hand in his grip, face flushing out of embarrassment.

Instead of dropping your hand, he repositioned his hold on it to cradle it gently, pulling it to his face and consequently pulling you further up his lap. You gaped at him as he pressed an electric kiss to your knuckles. But he didn’t stop there; he flexed your wrist to present your palm to him, his eyes never breaking contact with yours until his kisses trailed to your wrist. His lips lingered over your pulse point and you watched as his eyes fluttered shut.

It was impossible to deny the dark tint appearing on your cheeks, but you were glad to see he looked just as affected. Pink blush adorned his soft cheeks, his eyes seeming slightly dazed when he finally dropped your hand and looked up to you.

It wasn’t long after that that the paint fully dried and he had to leave, voice hoarse as he explained that he had an early shooting the next day and should probably go rest. After helping you clean up, Yunho pressed a quick kiss to your cheek, barely missing the corner of your lips, and took off into the night.

If you collapsed onto the couch and squealed into a pillow as soon as he was gone, that was nobody’s business but yours.

And if as soon as he got home, he practically ripped off his shirt and gushed to his brothers about how small and pretty you looked when you were on top of him—foregoing showing the pictures because those were for him and only him—that was also nobody's business but his either.

　　[ lilo's notes ... ] thank you all for waiting so patiently for this chapter <33. as you can see, you and yunho are quite… close 🤭 i honestly had so much fun writing this, possibly too much- but anyways, i hope you enjoyed it!! also, don’t worry, i did not forget about that little yeosang moment from the previous chapter, it will most definitely be brought up~~

　　ଘ(੭˃ᴗ˂)੭ network ... @cromernet @blankjournal

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[myuni-moon]

#just date already

―synopsis: so maybe you were doing things only best friends weren't supposed to ft. diluc, xiao, thoma, zhongli

―warnings: modern!au, romantic tension, mutual pining, mentions of unrequited love and jealousy(thoma), consumption of alcohol and slightly suggestive(zhongli)

—note: i had my sister give the names of four genshin men, hence the current lineup

— diluc

the tension that danced along your fingertips every time both of you even came close to brushing against each other’s hands never ceased to make your face feel warm each time it happened. there was just something about the closeness between you two that was enough to let the side of your palms stumble against the others' and the way your fingers inched ever so closely. you didn’t know if it was ever on purpose, or if he even noticed the implications that he was doing something that crossed the boundaries of anything platonic.

still, you’d never felt more anxious and invigorated in your entire life than when you danced across that line of being friends and lovers.

like now, as you shared a blanket on a movie night, it was no different. your arms were pressed against each other by the time the credits started rolling, but none of you paid enough attention to even switch to another one or do something else than sit there with your best friend. because right underneath the cottony fabric, your pinkies linked for the first time. oh god, you thought as your heart rate sped up by the minute. in the dim lighting, you could only roughly make out the red tinting diluc's ears, and you could do nothing but accept the shift in your relationship.

it only got more intense as you managed to lock eyes with him, and you swore his crimson irises made roses of the same shade bloom in your lungs. then you glanced at his lips, just a quick look. and it hit you square in the face:

yeah, best friends didn't hold hands and think about kissing one another.

— xiao

your friends always wondered why you never dated xiao, your roommate and longtime friend; and time and time again, you've explained to them that he was your best friend before redirecting the conversation to someone else's love life. that was most definitely just a coverup for the fact that you've been crushing on him for the longest time.

your feelings for him only amplified when he showed up while you were on an outing with the aforementioned friends. he'd appeared on his motorbike, leather jacket and all, as he parked upfront of the cafe you decided to go to. your friends spotted him first, nudging you the minute he took his helmet off to reveal his handsome face. you’d stumbled out the door to greet him.

“what are you doing here?” you asked, flustered at his sudden arrival. as always, his countenance was blank and perhaps mildly passive-aggressive to any bystander; however, you could tell that there was no aggression behind his eyes. your gaze drifted from his face to his hand which held a paper bag.

"the forecast said it might rain. you said you'd be here with your friends, and i came to drop this off just in case." he handed it to you gently. as you looked inside, you could spot an umbrella and one of his jackets. instantly, you felt a flutter in your gut. your heart palpitated the moment after; whether it was from the fact that he cared or he was willing to lend you his clothes, you didn't know.

nonetheless, you thanked him for his kindness. "thank you so much, xiao. you didn't have to do this, you know?" the male shook his head from side to side, dismissing you.

"no need to thank me. it'd be unfortunate if you ever got sick." as monotone as it might have sounded, you knew that xiao meant what he said. there's a lilt in his voice, one only you seem to have noticed, that betrayed all the softness he truly had in his body.

before your interaction came to an end and you both said your intentions to see each other later, you had tapped his shoulder just as he readied to put his helmet back on. you're not quite sure was possessed you at the moment, but you planted a kiss on his cheek before dashing back into the cafe where your friends would surely interrogate you and leaving xiao to watch your form withdrawing.

as he gently pressed his fingers towards the patch of skin your lips had grazed and his stomach swirled with something completely foreign to him, there was one thing on his mind.

best friends don't give each other butterflies.

— thoma

there was an icky green feeling that was instilled in you whenever people ogled at your best friend. it was no secret that the blond was attractive. with such a sweet personality and a house-husband aura, it shouldn't have been surprised when he started being chatted up on one of your grocery outings (thoma's idea after he figured you weren't going out as much as you should. you guys did it every week since then).

still, you could do nothing but hold your tongue. you were just his best friend after all, and there was no way he would be interested in you. you didn't even know his type, the more you thought about it. you shook your head, brushing off your feelings in favor of getting back to your task at hand.

you could only huff as you eyed the cereal box on the top shelf. normally, thoma would be the one to grab it for you, but he was clearly busy with other endeavors which left you to do it yourself. you looked around, wondering if there were any staff that could help you reach it. luck was definitely not on your side as you found the whole aisle empty with the exception of you. with a heavy heart, you decided to hop around until you could reach it. amidst your (failing) efforts, a kind stranger had reached up and handed you the box. you thanked them, flustered and scratching at your neck at how embarrassing it might have been to picture yourself jumping around the grocery to reach a simple cereal box.

this would not go unnoticed by thoma, not when he finally rounded the corner to see you acting shy. a strange sight and perhaps an unwelcomed one by the way he found his eyebrows furrowed and gaze hard on the floor the moment the two of you made it back to your apartment.

"who was that?" he inquired as you fixed up your pantry with thoma passing you each product. you hummed in response, curious at who he could've been referring to. "the one that you were with when you got the cereal."

just as you slid your favorite biscuits into the cabinet, you raised a brow before turning towards thoma who leaned against the island counter. you couldn't help but catch his aggravated expression. "dunno. they just helped me get the box. why?"

"you know you could've just called me over."

"you were busy talking. i didn't want to disturb you. did it bother you?"

it did. it really did if thoma was honest. there was something about the way that you didn't ask him to help when you knew he'd always put you first that just rubbed him the wrong way. even more so when you relied on a stranger that was too close for comfort, to thoma at least. he looked at the same cereal box from earlier that glared at him from just across the kitchen island; he shrugged. "you guys just looked kind of close there is all."

you tilted your head, "were you jealous?"

ok, best friends don't get jealous.

— zhongli

you didn't think the alcohol would be so strong. then again, what did you expect when it came from childe of all people? maybe it was your fault for trusting the ginger when he said that it was just mild and the fact that you didn't take into account that mild in snezhnaya meant "definitely-going-to-make-you-wasted-five shots-later" in liyue.

so there you were with your longtime friend, zhongli, absolutely drunk out of your mind in your apartment. maybe a bottle later and a drunken confession later, and you found yourself in your best friend's lap with your hands around his neck, his breath hot on your skin. you didn't exactly know what lead you two to that moment, but breaking whatever tension you had between you two when you were sober had been way overdue.

a blush had spread on his cheeks, whether it was from your compromising position or the alcohol— you couldn't really tell. his hands clenched by his sides, fingers digging into the skin of his palm as he balled them into fists. your hands, however, had long found their way to the sides of his neck until they had situated their place to caress his jaw.

"zhongli," his name came out as breathy from your mouth, "kiss me."

ever the gentleman he was (even while under the influence of a great amount of alcohol), he declined. "you're not sober."

you whined, and zhongli had never felt his body heat up so much. his adam's apple bobbed as you pressed yourself even more against him; by this time, zhongli had managed to snake his hands up to your wrist to keep you from getting any closer and effectively keeping you roughly an inch or two away from his lips. your struggling came right afterward, your body trying to wiggle against his grip.

"if i let you, you'll hate me tomorrow."

a huff passed your lips, brows still furrowed and a pout on your lips. your body momentarily halts as your eyes trailed from his mouth up to his eyes. his eyes of gold that looked at you pleadingly, almost paralleling your own desires for your companion. your front teeth nibbled on your bottom lip.

"no, i won't, and you know it too, zhongli. how long are we going to keep doing this until we finally cave?" you really did have a point, but perhaps that was just the liquid courage that finally made zhongli relent to the fact that there was indeed something between the two of you. something he'd turned a blind eye to because out of everyone in his life, you're the one person he'd never want to lose. he never wanted to risk your presence over something as foolish as his feelings for you.

so he stared back at you silently, heart threatening to give out when you eventually started to tear up from his lack of response. at that moment, panic overtook him for the first time in a long time; zhongli has never made you cry before— not even accidentally or indirectly. he's seen you cry, but he's never seen you cry because of him.

before he knew it, his body moved on his own purely out of instinct to what he thought could console you. the next thing he knew, his lips were on yours with all the grace of two drunk idiots in love, and your hands had found purchase on his shoulders once his hands migrated to your hips. just like that, something finally clicked in his brain after years of choosing to ignore it: you definitely weren't just friends.

best friends don't just kiss.

🏷: @raidengaile

[izvmimi]

cw: mildly suggestive. todo and yuuji are besties, you and todo are besties. todo and reader are black-coded.

The doorbell to your apartment rings on a Sunday evening and you look up from where you’re parting the last section of Todo’s hair to the door. Todo hasn’t shifted his gaze for a second, eyes glued to the TV and you wonder if he’s even registered that someone’s at the door. Takada, once again, takes precedence over anything you can offer him.

“Hey,” you tap the end of your rat-tail comb at his forehead, considering knocking his shoulders with your knees as well if that doesn’t work. “Someone’s at the door.”

“What’s that got to do with me?” He murmurs. His hand dips into a bowl of popcorn settled on his crossed legs. You frown.

“You’re really gonna let me get jumped in my own apartment?” You ask. “I’m not expecting anyone.”

“If semi-grade 1s are getting dropped by petty burglars, the problem is not something I can fix.”

You roll your eyes, and shift, moving your legs from where he sits to move towards the door, but you notice a text on your phone from Yuuji. Your pulse quickens just for a moment.

Hey, I was in the neighborhood, just wanted to swing by.

“It’s Yuuji,” you tell Todo, like he can do something that matters about it.

“Let bro in,” he replies, still making no move to get up himself, entranced by the sway of Takada’s hips in HD quality. You consider moving, then instead text him the code so you can continue working on Aoi’s kamikaze twists, and Yuuji lets himself in with the passcode. You’re watching the door when he comes in, applying pomade to Todo’s scalp and beginning to twist when Yuuji finds his way to the two of you.

For just a moment, he grimaces when he finds the two of you, but his look is quickly replaced by a nervous smile.

“Uh… am I interrupting something?”

You blink, confused. Todo finally looks up from the screen, stretching out his legs and leaning his body back on his hands, and as the back of his head finds itself dangerously close to your crotch you realize what Yuuji is talking about.

Braiding or twisting hair can be surprisingly intimate. A shift of your legs, and a turn of Aoi’s neck and he could be eating you out right now. It doesn’t help that you’re dressed in very little more than an oversized t-shirt and ridden up biker shorts, and buddy is allergic to shirts. Your face warms.

“What?! No!”

Your hands work quickly to finish a twist as Yuuji moves in closer, watching how your fingers glide through the sections of Aoi’s hair, his other hand effortlessly performing one of Todo’s complicated ass handshakes.

“Beer?” Todo asks, offering one as Yuuji sits on the floor too, next to Todo, still watching you carefully. Suddenly you’re embarrassed, fidgeting and murmuring for Todo to straighten his back so that you can close your legs shut. Todo argues that it’s uncomfortable and he has no idea why you’re moving so much while Yuuji cracks open the drink offered to him and sips quietly.

You bicker longer, especially after you intentionally pull a few strands, a little tighter than usual to prove a point, and Yuuji watches carefully, curiosity warming his brown eyes. Minutes later, Todo hands you a spray can and you rub mousse over your work.

“I can’t line you up,” you remind Todo, although you are proud of your work so far. He’s not too rusty with a pair of clippers himself, and has brought them with him.

“Not with those suddenly shaky ass hands,” he says, finally getting up after a pass of his hands, through his hair. Your cheeks warm again, and you look to Yuuji helplessly, hoping that he hasn’t picked up the implication that your crush makes you nervous. Yuuji is oblivious, after all, it’s not a secret that he likes you, only that it isn’t as one-sided as you seem to make it be.

Yuuji reaches for Aoi’s twists instinctively, and gets a gentle swat of his hand.

“Takada only.”

Yuuji rolls his eyes, then looks at you. You’ve finally relaxed your stance, and your legs now tucked under you on the couch. He thinks for a moment, then shifts into the space where Todo sat, settling into the comfortable cushion like a cat. You and Todo both look at him for a moment, and he grins.

“Me next.”

Todo pauses, then literally doubles over in a guffaw. “The hell you mean, you next?”

“What!? Why can’t I have dreads?”

Todo laughs even harder. “No, because you’re calling them dreads.”

Yuuji looks to you for support but you’re too torn between stifling a laugh and the idea of Yuuji sitting between your thighs as well, your fingers running delicately through his hair.

“Why him and not me?” He insists, pouting.

“Because you’d look ridiculous.”

“Okay,” he says. He turns to you again, and grins. “Do anything you wouldn’t think looks ridiculous.”

Your heart thumps.

“I don’t have any tools for your hair type,” you say softly. Todo rummages through his bag and tosses a container of gel at you, then walks away.

“Go crazy,” he teases, then disappears into your bathroom to clean up his hair, and you are left to give Yuuji what he wants, care and attention to his scalp, and some equal time close to you.

[3kiripima3]

Omg hiii!! I was wondering if youd write Verosika x fem (its ok if gn) reader thats super bitchy w everyone but her?

Verosika x Fem Reader

Warnings: Swearing, Slight Suggestive Implications at Points

A/N: I hope this is good enough for you <3

☆ When she first started dating you, Verosika honestly had no idea why you barely had any friends.

☆ You were so sweet and loving towards her all the time; how could people not like you?

☆ The first time she truly experienced your bitchy side was when you were both hanging out with Verosika's succubi and incubi friends.

☆ You were talking to Verosika when one of her friends accidentally spilt her drink over your dress.

☆ Oh, boy!

☆ I doubt anyone in that room had ever heard so many new curse words at once.

☆ After you'd finished insulting the poor demon, Verosika stared at you, a mixture of impressed and mortified.

☆ If Verosika was being completely honest, your bitchiness kind of turned her on.

☆ Eventually, she got used to the fact that you were like that to most other demons.

☆ She did always try to make sure you weren't bitchy towards her friends though.

☆ Maybe sometimes she wishes you verbally tore her to pieces like you do others. It is kinda hot to her.

☆ The time Verosika was most shocked by you would have to be the time you encountered Blitzø while on the streets.

♡-♡-♡-♡-♡-♡-♡-♡-♡

"I just don't get why you like the colour pink so much," Verosika said, looking at you mildly confused.

"Hm... yeah... I wonder why that could be?" You responded playfully, looking her up and down in utter adoration.

While Verosika caught onto the implication and was trying to hold herself back from giggling like a love sick teenage girl, a certain imp walked past.

"Ugh, I should have expected that bitch to be here..." Blitzø muttered, intentionally loud enough for both of you to hear.

"You fucking-" Verosika started, but you cut her off with a look, approaching Blitzø.

"Aw~ You must be that short-dicked imp, Blitzø. I've heard ever so much about you!" You said to him in a sickeningly sweet tone.

"You bitch! Mind your fucking business, you-"

"Verosika is my business, prick. Is the little imp upset? Are you an insecure, itty bitty baby?"

"Who do you think you are?! You-"

☆ Verosika was so proud of you, and glad you managed to bring Blitzø's attitude down a bit.

☆ Let's just say... Verosika was so glad she ended up rocking your world that night.

☆ You may be a bitch to everyone but her, but Verosika wouldn't want you any other way.

Hope you enjoyed <3

<3

[capricornlevi]

tattoo artist!choso x reader // v mildly suggestive/nsfw, mdni // wc ~700

---

"choso, it's just like tattooing anybody else," you quip, diligently keeping your arm in the position he set out at the beginning. his tattoo parlour's bench is quite comfortable, all things considered -- you don't think you could manage two hours on your side with your arm over your head otherwise. "just pretend i'm any other client."

"you're not," he retorts, and when you glance down at him, you see he's locked in on the movements of the needle, eyes not so much as flickering a millimetre in your direction. his hair is pulled back out of his eyes, his sleeves rolled up to reveal the black-and-white whirls of his own designs, but even as you gawk down at him, he continues pretending that the only visible part of you is the three-inch wide patch of skin he's tattooing.

equal parts relieving and frustrating.

"how is it any different?" you press, trying to point out the ridiculousness of his worries.

he scoffs in response, careful to not let it affect his movements, the unrelenting sting of the needle against your ribcage serving as evidence. "i haven't seen my other clients naked before."

you roll your eyes. "you've seen me naked three times, y'know. we're hardly married. can't a girl ask her talented friend-with-benefits for a tattoo? isn't that one of the benefits?"

choso's nose scrunches up adorably, brow furrowing from something other than concentration. "don't call us that."

"aw, are we lovers? paramours? in a situationshi-"

"don't finish that sentence," he butts in impatiently, gloved hand holding your waist firmly in place as he puts the finishing touches on his design.

he had been mumbling before about how awkward this could be, how he doesn't like to tattoo people he knows. how it's too much pressure.

you decide to put his mind at ease. "well, we're not dating, so if it turns out shit, i can't really break up with you. i can only just ... make it so that you won't see me naked a fourth time, i guess. is that still a scary consequence?"

"terrifying," he mumbles through a fond smile, your ramblings having successfully cut through the tension. and just then, the buzz of the needle quietens to a stop, with choso grabbing some equipment from his side tray that you presume is for the aftercare.

"is that it?" you gasp, trying to angle your head to catch a glimpse at the finished work. "is it done?"

"that didn't feel like two hours to you?" he asks, lips still pulled up into a nervous little grin as he grabs a mirror. "can't say the same for myself. i told you how much pressure it is-"

"choso!" you squeal, a bit more ungracefully than you expected, mouth falling open as the image of your tattoo reflects in the mirror in front of you. "i fucking love it!"

the design is the stuff of your pinterest board dreams; exactly as you imagined it but somehow better, with refined details you couldn't have pictured yourself. all done with minimal pain and only a bit of griping on the artist's end.

a blush has formed along choso's sharp cheekbones, the same blush you get to see whenever you have the apartment to yourself and can invite him over without your shared friend group making the world's biggest deal out of it.

the same blush he gets whenever you kiss him, when your fingernails start to dig in against his lower back as he --

"you like it?" he asks, adorably bashful despite the objective beauty of his design.

"of course," you reply earnestly, figuring it best not to tease him when he's done you such a favour. "i know you're giving me a reduced rate, but fuck, man, you could charge double for this."

"double is a bit dramatic," he replies quietly, blush spreading. your turn to grin.

"okay, then i'll have to make it up to you in other ways, i guess."

he swallows thickly, your implication obvious even to someone as innocent as choso.

still, for the sake of clarity and to show your sincere gratitude -- and your own self-interest, admittedly, since you can't believe it's been nearly two weeks since you're felt his lips on yours -- you decide to elaborate on your offer.

"up for a fourth time?"

[melvisik]

OFMD S2 SPOILERS

Warning: This post contains non-explicit, brief implications of sexual assault/harassment and (explicit) invasion of personal space. The subject of consent is delicate and complex and I am no expert, so if any information/opinions in this post are evaluated to be erroneous, seem careless, or cause too much controversy, this post will be deleted and apologies given.

Constructive criticism is welcome.

That goddamn scene in episode 6. There are so many amazing posts that have painstakingly broken it down. So at the risk of another potentially controversial (and definitely extremely long) post, here's a summary of a few favorite observations complied together: The main thing to remember is that these two are still frickin' whim-prone. They don't think things through sometimes, and here especially they didn't let themselves think. One would assume they deliberately didn't stop to question any of this - Stede didn't just throw Ed over the couch for a ravishing, he took time to prepare the room as Ed waited for him.

Gifs credit to @mermaidstede

There was also absolutely something happening here on a more subconscious level, so here's a mixture of suggestions in one proposal: Ed came to comfort Stede, something that possibly no one has ever done for Stede before...

Gifs credit to @mermaidstede

Perhaps without even consciously acknowledging it, Stede is so touched. And he's conflicted and in shock and so filled with love for this man - he is an absolute mess. Stede grabs this wonderful source of love and comfort...

Gif credit to @mermaidstede

...and pushes him up against something solid to brace against. Stede is in something like a free fall, and he needs to feel something or someone is there to catch him before he crashes down...

Gif credit to @gay Ed's subconscious might be catching on to this; after the initial surprise of Stede's literal launch at him, Ed's nigh-supernatural instincts gauge Stede and the state he's in.

Gif credit to @gay Stede needs comfort and support desperately, something to show him that although he's killed someone who was a threat to the people important to him, he's not unlovable. So Ed gives the man he loves warmth...

Gifs credit to @gay

Ed shares in the good shit with him...

Gif credit to @nicostiel And Ed later tries to give him good food, like the marmalade he loves so much...

Screenshot credit to @piratecaptainscaptainpirates Ed is technically stretching his boundaries here, but he isn't unwilling to become physical; as much as he prefers to wait, he wants Stede as much as Stede wants him. Ed’s also in a bit of a vulnerable state at this point; both he and Stede just had their personal space utlra-invaded (to put it mildly), by some creepy bastard who considered Ed scum.

But Stede (who just caused said bastard's death for crimes Ed himself has committed against him - damaging his ship, hurting his crew) loves everything about him. Ed reciprocates. He's wanted Stede for a long while now, missing him like hell when Stede left...

...and Ed almost just lost him again.

Moreover, Stede needs to know in this moment that he is loved, it's going to be ok, and that Ed is there for him. So Ed consents...

Gif credit to @nicostiel He lets his adoring mate collapse against his body, giving him his usual sign of affectionate - a rough slap on his shoulder. That hand quickly slides up to brace around Stede's neck...

Gif credit to @nicostiel

...just like Stede had done to him.

Gif credit to @figmentof

Ed's touch is firm. The arm snapping around Stede's waist is firm as hell, as if Ed's giving Stede a combination of "I want you so much" and "It's okay, love. I've got you"

Gif credit to @bulletsangwich

Stede lets go, melting into his beloved, and is surrounded by the strength of supportive arms. He more than likely snakes his own arm around Ed's waist, bringing his other hand up to gently cup Ed's head and pull this solid source of love and warmth closer. Maybe in some ways, Ed is still trying to protect Stede...

Gifs credit to @izzy-hands ...and in some ways, Stede still needs to be protected. Now switch to (hypothetically) Stede's point of view right before this scene- We all saw it, that bastard did indeed hurt his crew and damaged Stede's ship, but when Ned blatantly disrespects and debases Ed...

Gifs credit to @eddie-redcliffe ...Stede snaps. But then perhaps this is a rage that was building before and not just out of protectiveness. Stede was the one who foiled Ned's plan, and yet it's Blackbeard to whom Ned asks about his punishment. We've all noticed how Stede longs to be respected as The Gentleman Pirate, and yet even when he's victorious he isn't taken seriously. He comments later to his Republic of Pirates fanclub how he and Ed take turns making decisions, and that is exactly what he wants. He wants to be Ed's equal. He's not Ed's pet...

Gif credit to @eddie-redcliffe

...anymore than Ed is Stede's plaything. Stede exacts his revenge, but it was an act from which he can never return. Olu and Jim told him in S1 - once you kill, it changes you forever. Ed's told him you can't come back from it. This is the first time he's intended to kill someone, and it leaves him reeling.

He needs time, he goes to be alone. Then Ed shows up, concerned and worried about him. On the surface, perhaps Stede's brain is overcompensating, making him feel confident rather than devastated. Stede could be feeling like he's on the same level as Blackbeard now. Ed has deferred to him many times, but now others will do it too. And here's Ed/Blackbeard himself, sympathizing with him and just simply being the man Stede loves.

Gifs credit to @mermaidstede

Stede lunges. He anchors them both into a stable place, then switches to being being gentle, waiting to see how Ed will react. Maybe also he's thinking how he and Ed are on equal footing now? They can be true pirates together. Or maybe he's musing about how Ned was so wrong, and Ed is absolutely everything? In any case, he treats Ed tenderly when the permission is given, treasuring their closeness but not really recognizing just what his subconscious could really be seeking.

Gif credit to @moiirasketchup In any case, what we ultimately see this night are a pair of kindred wrecks giving over to passion, spurred on from mutual desire and a deep need to show and receive love and comfort. Of course, there are numerous other ways to express these things to one's partner(s) rather than sexually (though it can be a method for some relationships), but for better or worse that seems the be what's happened here. Ed could have stopped it, pushed Stede away or talked him through it. He chose not to.

Stede could have just not initiated it in the first place. In fact, he probably shouldn’t have, and wouldn’t have in he were in the right headspace.

But the heat of the moment can be a bitch when emotions are running high. These overwhelming feelings are in addition to all their other traumatic baggage (which would take too long to analyze in this already-too-long-post, but for example - 'defiling beautiful things,' the different paths they're on, etc.), and again, these two are still frickin whim-prone. This really seems to be a moment when they're both just like "Fuck it."

So when Ed eventually calms down from basking in the afterglow, perhaps he realizes that yes, that could have been handled differently. He agreed to it, he wanted it, but was that really what Stede (or he) needed, and now what does it mean for their future? Ed panics, and true to his whimsy ways, he runs off to become a fisherman without really knowing anything about it.

Stede on the other hand is still running off a major high - he's destroyed a brief-time nemesis, gained infamy, learned pirating skills from one of the best, pulled off successful raids, reclaimed his ship, protected his crew, and made love to the love of his life. Then it all comes crashing down on him - his beloved leaves him, his crew are moving on to others things, and he gets his ass whooped while trying to separate lovers and pursue danger as if he somehow wants to destroy himself.

To state the obvious - Ed and Stede need each other. To share in fun and happiness, and to be there when the other really needs him.

We see them struggling figure out the best way to handle these trying times, and while some of the regrets and the risks are unavoidable, we all suspect (ie know) the rewards would most certainly outweigh them.

And on that note, to sum it up...

It's just the same old song Nothing cruel, nothing wrong It's just two fools Who know the rules But break them all And grasp at half a chance To play their part In a light romance

-"Light Romance" from Blood Brothers P.S. Ok, there's definitely nothing light about their romance but dammit, there's a unshakable need to add a Blood Brothers reference in an episode where Con O'Neill sings like the goddess he is...

Gif credit to @mozarlin P.P.S. Some other sources/insights can be found here (made a list of 'research material' this time):

A couple of analyses of the 'night in question' and/with 'day after'-

And a wonderful analysis/subtext-translation of episode 7's 'last night was a mistake' conversation-

[vilevenom]

Hello @90svn!! Thank you for your request and sweet comment ❤️

I took this request as a personal challenge, because Trollex has a whole 5 minutes of screentime in World Tour, and only maybe eight voice lines. Very hard to get a good read on a character with such a short appearance, but I did my best!

Hope you enjoy!~

To say that Clay felt overwhelmed was putting it mildly. Reuniting with his brothers had been one thing. Heck, even reintegrating the putt putt trolls with pop village had been a drain on his mental and social batteries, but he'd muddled through. However, following Viva along to royal meet and greets and council meetings was just too much. He felt out of his depths in so many ways. Sure, he'd helped co-run the golf course, and a lot of the rules and regulations that kept the place stable had been his doing, but there was just so much more to all of the other kingdoms. Not to mention the fact that he didn't really feel like the other leaders necessarily took him and Viva seriously. He was an ex-boyband member with no political background, and Viva had been unintentionally usurped as queen by her younger sister. They didn't exactly fit the standard leader stereotypes.

This latest meeting, to discuss territory laws and transportation between kingdoms had initially intrigued Clay, and when Viva all but begged him to go with her so she wouldn't be bored, he'd happily agreed. Now he sort of wished he'd stayed home. As much as he had thoughts on what was going on, absolutely no one in the room paid he or Viva much, if any, mind. They were treated more like Poppy's entourage than leaders of a subdivision of Pop trolls. Even Branch was getting asked more questions than either of them.

He was about to suggest to Viva that they leave, since no one seemed to really care what they had to say, when the door to the meeting room burst open, and the king of the techno trolls floated in, grin on his face.

"Sorry I'm late," Trollex laughed as he moved across the room to take his seat, "Last nights rave went on a bit longer than I had anticipated."

Clay rolled his eyes, sinking down further into his seat. He'd seen the techno king from afar a few times before, but he never struck Clay as the type to take anything seriously. He was always talking about the parties the techno trolls threw, never seeming to have a serious thought in his head. He figured, from here, the meeting could only go further downhill.

He, of course, hadn't been paying attention to what was being said due to his miserable ruminating, so hadn't caught that he'd been directly addressed. Not until Viva elbowed him squarely in the rub cage, anyway. He grunted, sitting himself up with a quick frown shot to his best friend, who simply grinned back at him. "Sorry, what was that?"

"I said," Trollex waved his hand at Clay to get his attention, his previous grin and chipper attitude seemingly gone, "What do you think about the implication of having trolls of multiple genres potentially staying all in one place? Since regional customs and attitudes are so wildly different, it opens up a massive amount of safety concerns. Viva said you were the best troll to talk to, outside maybe Branch, about what sort of measures could be kept in place to make sure everyone stays happy and healthy."

Clay perked up as Trollex spoke, not having expected the king to ask such an insightful question, especially not to him. Perhaps his first impression of the king had been all wrong. "Well, there are a lot of different things we'd have to keep in mind for such an undertaking…"

~

Trollex, it turned out, was an incredibly insightful king. Throughout the entire meeting he lobbed questions to several of the kingdom rulers, and directed most, if not all, concerns in regards to safety to Clay. All in all, he felt pretty good when the meeting came to a close, as they had several rough documents drafted up for new inter-kingdom laws.

So, it threw Clay off a little when Trollex floated past him, wide grin on his face and headphones over his ears, flipping a glowstick between his fingers, like he hadn't just been discussing transgenre rights barely five minutes prior. He froze when the kings eyes landed on him, his shoulders unconsciously hiking up to his ears as he was approached.

"Hey, hey! Clay, my man," Trollex crowed, only lowering his volume once he pulled his headphones away from his ears, "Nice work today, yo. Usually Branch is the only one who can figure out all that nuance-y regulatory stuff."

"Yeah, well. Boring legal stuff is my jam," he said with a little laugh while throwing up a peace sign and sticking his tongue out without even realizing what he was doing. He quickly straightened up, a flush forming on his cheeks as a grin slowly spread across Trollex's face.

"Yeah, bro! Nice," Trollex laughed, reaching over to shake Clay's shoulder gently in a friendly gesture, "Live your best life, yo. Speaking of, you should come on by Techno Reef sometime soon! We've got some bangin' raves comin' up. Would love to see how you unwind."

"Haha, yeah," Clay forced a smile onto his face, giving the king a little nod.

"Sweet! I'll send word to Pop Village with dates for the next big one! It's gonna be LIT," Trollex called out, earning whoops from some of the trolls milling near the meeting hall. He laughed as he put his headphones back on, tossing Clay a glow stick as he began to bob his head in time with his music, shooting him finger guns before floating away.

Clay didn't even register when Viva appeared next to him. "Ooooh, does Mr.Clay have a date?"

"Cupcakes!" Clay dropped the glowstick in favor of slapping a hand to his chest, "Viva! Ugh…we seriously need to get you a bell, girl."

Viva simply cackled at him, poking him in the side until he couldn't hold back his laughter and swatted her away. "Well?" she prompted as she took a step back to let Clay catch his breath.

Clay sighed and bent to pick up the fallen glowstick, shrugging a bit. "Pretty sure it was a general party invitation, Viv. Not a date request."

"Well, you gotta start somewhere," Viva chirped, wrapping both of her arms around one of Clays. "What do you think about him, anyway? He totally seems right up your alley."

"What?! How?" Clay asked with a laugh, arching an eyebrow at Viva curiously.

"Oh, well, you know," Viva hummed, resting her head on Clay's shoulder, "He's a party guy, sure, but you saw him in the meeting. He seems like he really takes his responsibilities seriously. I figured you'd admire him for that."

Clay gingerly twirled the glowstick between his fingers. "Yeah. I guess that's true…"

~

"Hey! The party has arrived!"

Clay couldn't help but cringe at Trollex's shout, offering an awkward wave as the king swam over to greet the small group of pop trolls that had travelled down to Techno Reef. Clay had been the one to officially receive the invitation, surprisingly, but it had said that anyone from Pop village was welcome, so he'd asked Poppy to spread word that any troll who wanted to could go. In the end, Clay, Viva, Poppy, Branch, and a smattering of villagers had all decided to go.

"Welcome to Techno Reef! We've got glow sticks for days, and the party's always poppin'," Trollex called with a laugh, tossing a handful of glowsticks out, which gently floated down into the waiting pop trolls hands. "If ya'll would follow Leguna, she'll show you to the accommodations we've prepared for your stay."

A purple techno troll swam forward and gestured for everyone to follow her, which Clay was about to do when he was stopped by a hand on his wrist. He paused and turned in surprise to find Trollex with a large grin on his face.

"I'm really glad you accepted my invitation," the king hummed, releasing Clay's arm and floating backwards slightly.

"Uh," Clay said smartly, glancing around quickly to find Viva shooting his a thumbs up while giggling with her sister, "Thanks, man. Me too. I'm real curious about your culture and it's really cool to finally get to see some of the other kingdoms."

Trollex chuckled, nodding a little as he pulled a glow bracelet off from around his own wrist, swimming forward to secure it around Clay's. "Well, if you've got any questions, you know who to come find," he said with a little wink. Clay was endlessly glad for the darkness of the water around them as his cheeks flushed, just before Trollex swam away.

"I think he likes you."

"VIVA! A BELL! Damn."

~

Raves were, apparently, not Clay's cup of tea. Perhaps when he was younger, before, well, everything, he would've loved a good rave. But older, serious boy Clay was not having the best of times. Branch wasn't, either, but Poppy had dragged him and Viva off almost the moment they had reached the large area that the party was taking place in (He had a feeling the sisters were conspiring against him, somehow). Which left Clay, alone, at the edge of the dance floor, awkwardly watching and wishing he could covers his ears from the loud bass. Unfortunately, the helmets the visiting pop trolls had to wear in order to even be down in the reef impeded his ability to do so.

He was debating on heading back to the rooms the techno trolls had prepared for them, when Trollex appeared out of the crowd, swimming over once he spotted Clay.

"Heyyy, Live Wire!" Trollex shouted over the music with a grin, "There you are!"

"Live Wire?" Clay echoed, arching an eyebrow at Trollex, who grinned wider, his cheeks glowing slightly.

"Yeah, man! Your rave name! Everyone's gotta have a rave name, and you've got the best hair. So, Live Wire," the king explained, swimming forward to tap at the side of Clay's helmet, where his hair was bunched up against the glass.

"I assume you're making fun of me, 'cause my hair stands up like I got electrocuted?" Clay snarked, folding his arms over his chest, not looking the least amount amused.

"What? No? Why would I make fun of you?" Trollex tilted his head like a confused cuddle pup. This gave Clay pause, dropping his arms to his sides.

"I, uhm…I guess I don't know," Clay admitted, shrugging a little. He chewed on his lip a little as Trollex gave him a contemplative look.

"Let's get out of here," the king said, just loud enough for Clay to hear, before he reached out and grabbed both of Clay's hands. With a smile he began to swim backwards, pulling Clay up along through the water after him.

"Wait, wait, wait!" Clay yelped, kicking his feet to try and keep himself from dropping back down through the water and onto the dancefloor. This pulled a delighted laugh from Trollex, who shook his head.

"Just relax. I've got you," Trollex hummed, sliding his hands down Clay's arms until he had a hold on the green trolls elbows, while shifting his position so he was half swimming beneath Clay. "You'll be okay, Live Wire. I won't let you sink."

~

Trollex let Clay's feet hit solid ground again once they'd reached what Clay could only describe as a palace; a huge building near the center of the reef, standing prominently above all the other structures of the town, with twisting spires and glowing accents that lit up the surrounding area.

"Wow," Clay murmured, admiring the architecture, while also noting that they were far enough away from the rave that he could speak at a normal volume.

"Yeah. It's pretty lucky Barb only targeted the DJ booth when she attacked. I'm not sure how well we could've reconstructed this," Trollex said, floating next to Clay with an easy smile.

"Wait…she attacked you? Like, actually?" Clay turned his head sharply towards Trollex with a frown. He'd heard plenty about Barb's world tour, but the finer details hadn't really been openly shared. He supposed it would make sense that Barb would have to attack trolls to gain what she wanted, but knowing it was enough that the techno trolls had to reconstruct buildings was a lot. Barb had been at their meeting, and no one had treated her like she'd terrorized them.

"Yeah. But it's all good. Things worked out," Trollex said with a little shrug.

"But, what if they hadn't? You would've lost all this," Clay declared, gesturing widely at te palace and surrounding buildings.

"True. But we didn't," Trollex swam in front of Clay, taking his hands in his own with a light laugh, "You can't dwell on the 'maybes' in life, bro. You just gotta focus on the here, and now, and what you can do in the moment." Clay felt his anger dissipate at Trollex's words, though he still frowned.

"'Maybes' are what keep people safe," Clay insisted, unconsciously squeezing Trollex's hands.

"Future 'maybes', totally. But past 'maybes' can't be changed. You gotta go with the flow, bro," Trollex chuckled, tugging Clay forward a bit, "But enough of that. C'mon, I'll show you around."

Clay sighed heavily and followed after Trollex, taking note of the fact that the king had only let go of one of his hands.

~

"This is all really impressive," Clay praised with an easy smile while pulling his helmet off. The last stop on the tour of the palace was a series of rooms dedicated to visiting dignitaries from other kingdoms. Much like the rooms arranged for the visiting pop trolls, these rooms had been made air tight and drained of water to allow for other genres to visit without the need for helmets.

"Thanks, man," Trollex said, taking the helmet from the green troll to set aside on a table. "We've only had a few trolls come to visit so far, so it's nice to know our efforts aren't in vain."

"I thought the whole world tour thing was a while ago?"

"Oh, yeah, it was," Trollex shrugged, floating over to a couch and patting the spot net to him in invitation to Clay, "But, we're a bit harder to get to, being underwater, an' all. Plus, as much as I'd love to extend more open invitations to other kingdoms, we haven't finished hammering out all the necessary laws to make sure everyone stays safe."

"Man," Clay said with a little laugh, flopping himself onto the seat next to the king, "How do you do that?"

"Do what?"

"Just…so easily flip between being dead serious and being a party guy? How do you make sure people still take you seriously?"

Trollex watched Clay for a moment, before letting out a little breath and curling his fins beneath himself. "You're talking about the whole 'fun boy' thing, aren't you?"

Clay startled, leaning away from Trollex with wide eyes. "How'd you know about that?"

"Queen Poppy gave us a bunch of pop records when the kingdoms first started talking to each other again. There was a BroZone record in there. Which, by the way, makes for some killer mixes and spinbacks! But, uh…yeah. Not hard to put two and two together when Branch was talking about his brothers, meeting before last. Poppy also might have mentioned that I shouldn't call you 'fun' before we met," Trollex said with a light laugh.

Clay groaned, dropping his face into his hands. "Is that what this is, then?" he asked, slightly muffled, "Some sort of weird intervention to show me that I can be fun and serious, not just one or the other?"

"What? No. Man, you sure do jump to a lot of conclusions," Trollex chuckled, gently taking Clay's hands away from his face. "You just genuinely seemed like a cool troll. Is it so hard to believe I might wanna get to know you better, without any ulterior motives?"

"Yes."

That startled a burst of laughter out of Trollex, making the techno king reel back and wave his hands through the air. "Oh! Oh, man. Clay," he snorted, wiping at his eyes, "Bro. Trust me, it shouldn't be hard to believe. You really made an impression on the council with your ideas at the last meeting, and Viva told me about everything you did at the golf course. You're a really impressive troll, Live Wire."

"Oh. Well…thanks," Clay chuckled awkwardly, his cheeks flushing.

"It helps that you're real cute, too," Trollex added cheekily, shooting Clay a grin.

"I-What?!" It was Clay's turn to reel back, his back hitting the arm rest of the couch as his cheeks practically caught fire.

Trollex simply laughed, leaning his arm on the back of the couch so he was a bit more in Clay's space. "Okay, so maybe I had one ulterior motive," the king admitted, "I thought, maybe, you and Viva were a thing, but I overheard her teasing you about me."

"You had headphones on!" Clay squawked, shaking his head slightly.

"Yeah. I didn't have any music playing. Sometimes it's nice to be left alone because people think you can't hear them. Plus, I get to hear things that people might not want me to know," the king confessed with a little shrug. "But, y'know, if I'm reading you all wrong, just tell me to back off. I won't take offense."

"I…okay?"

"That was definitely a question, and not enthusiastic consent," Trollex chuckled, reaching out to gently take one of Clay's hands in his own. "You gotta say the magic word."

"Please?"

Trollex snorted. "I was looking for 'yes', or something to that effect, but I suppose that works, too." With that he leaned forward and cupped Clay's jaw in his hand, his smile turning soft. "You just do what you gotta do if this doesn't feel right, okay?"

Clay gave a little nod and let his eyes slip shut as Trollex pressed their lips together. He genuinely couldn't remember the last time he'd been kissed. Was it all the way back when he'd been in BroZone? Probably. He'd always been too busy at the golf course to ever entertain the idea of getting involved with anyone. And, as much as he and Viva were teased for being in each others back pockets all the time, there really wasn't anything more than close sibling feelings between the two of them. So, as the kiss broke and Trollex shifted back, he had no real idea if it felt right or not. He did, at least, know it didn't feel wrong. He opened his eyes to find Trollex watching him intently, a nervous little smile on his face.

"Well?"

"Repeat experiments must be run in order to ensure the results are valid and consistent," Clay muttered, pulling his hand free of Trollex's in order to take the kings face in both hands and draw him in again. He smiled into the kiss at Trollex's surprised little grunt, pleased as he felt the techno king all but melt into him.

When they pulled apart the second time, Clay took note of the dumbstruck expression on Trollex's face, feeling a little curl of satisfaction in the pit of his stomach for putting the look on the kings face.

"One more? To, uh, make sure the results are consistent?" Trollex asked, his cheeks glowing a faint pink as he leaned in again.

"Just to make sure," Clay easily agreed, tugging Trollex closer so the techno king was half in his lap as their lips met again.

~

Clay smirked as he fixed his hair and adjusted his romper as he glanced back at Trollex, who looked like a ragdoll on the couch, one arm over his face and one fin flopped onto the floor.

"Live Wire is a perfect nickname for you," Trollex sighed, sitting up as Clay picked up his helmet. Slowly he rose from his seat and floated over to the green troll, resting a hand on the top of the helmet. "I hope…I really hope this wasn't a one time thing?"

Clay blinked, a bit taken aback by the question. "It isn't?"

"I mean," Trollex floated backwards, twisting his fingers together in front of himself nervously, "If you wanted it to be, that…that's cool. I just…I know we don't know each other super well yet or anything, but I really like you, Clay. And I'd really like to get to know you better. I know you've got all your responsibility with the pop trolls and Viva and stuff, but…I'd like to see you again. I'd like to see you more."

"Oh," Clay breathed, oddly somewhat startled that anyone would want to see him again, let along a King. "You mean that?"

"I wouldn't say it if I didn't."

"Okay. Okay! Yeah," Clay nodded, shifting the helmet in his hands to rest on his hip so he could reach out and take Trollex's hand. "Next time, you come to ours. You can stay with me."

Trollex's face lit up in a giddy grin, his cheeks flushing bright pink at Clay's words. "Already looking forward to it."

[another-lost-mc]

MICHAEL x gn!Reader | 1.3k words | SFW

Content: Michael has a lot of secrets when he sneaks his way into the Devildom. He's determined to figure out your secrets too, but he's not prepared for what he finds.

Warnings: Spoilers for NB HM L20. Established relationship pre-Nightbringer. Mildly suggestive content. Angst with an ambiguously hopeful ending.

A/N: The implications of Lesson 20 are haunting me. I fudged some of the details and filled in some gaps with my own headcanons because who really knows what’s going on? (Not me.)

There’s something odd about you that Michael can’t quite put his finger on.

He came all this way to the Devildom wearing a false face just to see Lucifer and his fallen brothers again. He didn’t know what to expect when he arrived—he certainly didn’t expect Satan, but that wasn’t the only surprise. He was afraid they’d be monstrous, fully embracing their new demonic natures and indulging in sin. He was concerned that perhaps they suffered devastating wounds from the fall—ones that can’t be seen with the naked eye but cut through the heart just as deep, similar to the ones he bears now too.

What he found instead was family. Their unbreakable loyalty to each other, their love that forged the path that started all this, their unmatched stubbornness to seek out the happiness they want. He wishes it were with him, but perhaps one day he can accept this.

He didn’t expect to meet Solomon or the strange human sorcerer Solomon calls his apprentice. You’re a wolf in sheep’s clothing, if Michael ever saw one. His brothers are drawn to you. Damn it all—they all are. How can you bewitch them so effortlessly?

He feels some spiteful satisfaction when he realizes that the depth of their love for you is not reciprocated. You keep them at arm’s length, skirting away from their flirtatious gestures and denying their obvious attempts to woo you. You treat them like family but he can tell by their poorly-concealed disappointment that they long for something more. 

There's a brief moment when he thinks Solomon might be your lover instead, but that’s also proven false. He lingers near Cocytus Hall discreetly to observe you—both of you—but he sees no proof that you’re more than friends living as roommates together in the Devildom.

Tonight he hides in one of the hallways near your shared accommodations with the pesky sorcerer. His enhanced hearing allows him to eavesdrop on your conversation, but it’s hardly needed right now. The muffled sounds of your fight with Solomon echo down the hall. Solomon sounds exasperated and you eventually fling the door open and storm towards the exit. He leaves a few minutes later, grumbling to himself about needing a stiff drink.

Once you're both gone, Michael lets himself inside and begins his investigation. Your accommodations are comfortable despite the faint scent of whatever Solomon last cooked in your shared kitchen. The sitting room is comfortable and clean, but it's too clean. Immaculate. Neither of you spend much time here.

The first closed door he opens leads him to your bedroom. He can detect the faint scent of the fragrance you like to wear, and some of your clothes are strewn across the floor. The bed is sloppily made, but it feels more welcoming than any of the other rooms he’s inspected so far.

There’s nothing unexpected or suspicious on the shelves. Your nightstand is bare except for a lamp and half-empty box of tissues. The small drawer underneath is slightly ajar, and he tugs on the handle. At first it appears empty except for a book, but he hears something rattle at the bottom of the drawer. He picks up the book and stares at the D.D.D. hidden underneath it.

He pulls his own D.D.D. from his pocket. The group chat with Simeon and Luke pings with a message you’ve just sent, something about picking up a surprise Luke baked for you.

If you have your D.D.D. with you now, then what device is this?

He picks it up carefully and inspects it, but his confusion grows even more. It’s a different size than the ones everyone else carries, and it doesn’t weigh the same, and the screen is scratched slightly. It looks worn, old, well-used. It has the wear-and-tear of someone who’s had it far longer than you’ve been in the Devildom if Solomon’s story about your arrival is to be believed.

He knows he can’t stay much longer. Solomon might be trying to drink himself into a stupor, but there’s no telling when you will return. That doesn’t stop him from sliding his finger along the side of the device until he finds the power button and turns it on. The KARASU OS logo flashes briefly on the screen, and even that looks different too. A small window for your passcode pops up, but Michael stares at the lock screen photo behind it. He would recognize that willow tree anywhere. He’s read underneath it, napped underneath it, and cried underneath it, because it’s in his private garden.

He should put this unwanted mystery back where he found it and leave, but he can't. An unfamiliar emotion makes his chest tighten. He feels compelled to keep looking. There’s an ominous feeling gnawing at his insides when his thumb hovers over the screen, but he taps the screen and unlocks the device. He’s not sure what worries him more: that your passcode is his birthday, or that he somehow knew it would be.

Sweat beads along his hairline and his throat feels bone-dry. He shouldn’t even be here but he can’t stop himself, not when your home screen photo is a picture of you and Luke in the kitchen of the Celestial Halls.

He taps quickly on the Messages app and picks one under his name at random. A video recording starts to play: this version of himself is in his bed in the Celestial Halls, lying comfortably against the pillows propped up against the headboard. He’s wearing linen sleep pants but no shirt, his long hair spilling loose across his bare shoulders.

“It’s late, little lamb. Why aren’t you asleep?”

“I could ask you the same thing.”

“I thought I would look over some paperwork I neglected earlier. It turns out that I sleep poorly when you’re not here.”

“I’m glad it’s not just me. I miss you.”

“And I miss you. How soon do you think they’ll let you get away for another visit?”

“They might complain since I only just got back. Perhaps in a couple of weeks? That should give you time to come up with a reasonable excuse.”

“I can hardly wait.”

“Me too.”

“As much as I don’t want to cut our conversation short, you should try to rest.”

“I’ve been tossing and turning for the past two hours. I’m not sleepy.”

“Perhaps…hmm…would you like me to help you?”

“Oh, do you mean a lullaby? I love it when you sing.”

“I think I’d rather make you sing for me instead, little lamb. Go on and lay down for me. Let me see you—yes, like that, that’s perfect. Now, lift up your shirt and slide your fingers across your—”

He nearly drops the device when the front door opens and slams shut. There’s soft footfalls across the carpet in the sitting room and a soft, tired sigh. Yours. He needs to get out of here before you catch him. He scrambles to close the recording before shoving your spare D.D.D. back into the drawer. He disappears just as the doorknob starts to turn.

He stands in his temporary accommodations and his mind races. He’s stunned, paralyzed with so many questions and not enough answers. If he’s lucky, the device battery dies on its own before you notice it was tampered with.

He tries to dismiss this as a momentary distraction from the bigger issues at stake. He doesn’t want to imagine a version of himself that loves you so dearly, or what power would be strong enough to send you across time away from him, or what might prevent him from finding you—

He can't go down this path. He can’t afford to be sidetracked now. He’ll simply bury it with so many other secrets he’s forced to carry deep in his heart.

He won’t confront you about it. 

(He tries not to imagine what might happen if he does, good or bad.)

He refuses to dwell on it—not when you treat “Raphael” with kindness, and especially not when he notices the way your eyes look their brightest whenever his real name is mentioned.

When he returns home and considers the outlandish idea to attend RAD as himself, he’s tempted by selfish possibilities. He finally lets himself think of you once he’s alone in his garden, sitting underneath his favourite tree, and he smiles.

Obey Me! Masterlist

[justanotherhh]

something i haven't seen much of so far is analysis of charlie's journey from the perspective of someone who also needs to change how she engages with others (vaggie too, but that feels more obvious as she's an ex-angel/exorcist and a sinner)

when charlie tries to help angel by confronting valentino it's been built to in the other episodes, because it's made very clear that she doesn't respect sex work -- she's got that "we need to save them from themselves" type attitude you see a lot with people who haven't done critical analysis into their own biases from a position of mildly-to-severe privileged disgust and haven't engaged with the perspectives of sex workers as people who can frame and understand their own experiences (whatever work they engage in and why they do sex work to begin with). same for her opinions on addiction

the scene where angel has to do a reenactment with sir pentious frames addiction as

something to be judged

something pitiable

something predatory

which isn't exactly a great way to bring angel onboard with the programme/make him feel less like shit. meanwhile the anti-sex + weirdly heteronormative attitude is also present in that scene by having sir pentious dress up as a virginal young girl in an anime-type school uniform with a big lollipop (the irony of this being practically indistinguishable from a porn setup feels very intentional), who declares that "she" won't be having sex before marriage as the great crescendo (sidenote, monogamy in the afterlife sounds.... like a long time to be monogamous......... yzma voice: "why do we even have marriage??")

angel, up until his duet with husk, is having it made clear again and again that the people seemingly helping him find the essence of his being inherently gross. he likes sex -- yeah there's the performance/face he has to wear to get through the day, but i think the bdsm club was a sincere suggestion and vaggie literally calls it disgusting/shoots it down without thinking about how to do so respectfully (again, she's an ex-angel/exorcist, she has biases of her own to contend with, but also the implications that nobody in heaven is having fun sex or negotiated kink and bdsm... tragic. do they even have a sex club called consent up there?)

charlie is a fairly conservative person at the beginning of the story. yes, she wants to help, but her framing of what "help" looks like doesn't take into account her own biases; presumably she grew up with the idea that "sinners are bad people" as much as anyone else did, if not more considering lucifer gave up on the sinners and that's been her environment from birth -- cut off from the people she's supposedly in charge of, but "hearing stories." (in both the pilot and happy day in hell she clearly has a fondness for the sinners, but it's as an outsider, someone who does not relate to them, and generally there's that overtone of "royalty doesn't know shit about what anyone is going through" which, charlie being a ruler, i wonder if that will be a focal point or just something to accept, it's not a dealbreaker for me, just something i noticed, esp as helluva boss has poked on power dynamics in hell along those same lines). the yearly murdering of demons is, likewise, something that is simply status quo and so even getting to a place of "hey maybe we shouldn't do that" is big and was inevitably going to create more cracks in the logic of black-and-white heaven-or-hell, so it's cool that that's where we the audience get to first meet her -- right as those threads are about to start unravelling

but at the very beginning, in some ways she echoes elements of characters like adam and lute (who are of course far more in-your-face, being villains) in her original assessment of what makes someone "a bad person" -- it causes her to create a system that doesn't actually work, and then of course the hotel is destroyed, but next time they'll build it to be better! (metaphor *jazz hands*)

why is angel in hell, is the question later asked. is it because he was/is an addict? because he drinks? because he does sex work? because he likes sex? (it may be because he's killed people/was in the mafia, but we don't have all the context yet, for now those are the things people know in the story itself) at the beginning charlie isn't asking the right questions, questions that would need her to go into herself and challenge her own biases, but throughout season 1 she goes from merely proclaiming that "everyone" can be saved, to sincerely challenging the idea of "needing to be saved" from things that shouldn't be judged in the first place. "if angel's can do whatever and remain in the sky." yeah, how are we stipulating what's allowed and what isn't hmmmmmm? stay tuned for s2

(and youknow, apologises to angel for overstepping his boundaries, so it's not like angel doesn't know that she does care for him, s4 gives a lot of development for their relationship as well -- it's the tipping point for a lot of what comes next)

interested to see how that challenging will continue in s2. she's gone from "we have to make you into a good person by cutting out things that make me (and others) uncomfortable from a conservative/purity-based judgemental framework" to "why do we have these systems of judgement in the first place?"

tl;dr angel changed a looot in s1 but so did charlie. she understands better now that the work she's doing is going to look very different from what she'd first anticipated, and poking at her own biases in relation to angel helped that journey and brought her closer to actually understanding and relating to the people around her

(there's another element here about charlie and vaggie as queer women in this particular universe, but it's a slight tangent so... different post)

[watatsumiis]

Bitey reader series - part 2

Yeah. A continuation to this series. Oops.

Content: gender neutral reader (heavily implied to be neurodivergent in some way), biting (gentle affectionate biting, not in a kinky way, just as a nontraditional expression of platonic affection), some flirting in Kaeya's section, implications of some of the mentioned characters also being neurodivergent.

Characters: Gorou, Itto, Kaeya, Lisa, Pantalone, Pierro

Gorou, after a few moments of initial confusion, goes full puppy mode. The pupils dilate and he perks right up and will lean right in to get you back. He LOVES nontraditional displays of affection. His tail starts wagging and he jumps up and down. You've just started something that you may not ever be able to stop.

Itto laughs at first, like full hearty chest laugh as he struggles to wrap his head around what the heck you think you're doing. He finds it really cute and endearing and will probably give you some kind of relevant nickname relating to it - he also probably tries to bait you into biting him every now and then - if anyone understands non-traditional displays of affection, it's Arataki 'kisses his homies goodnight' Itto.

Kaeya immediately takes it as some kind of flirty act. He raises his eyebrows in that suggestive way and purrs out something about how you should've at least bought him dinner first. He'll shrug it off as a one-time thing, but will subtly do things to encourage you to do it again, just so he can tease you about it once more, because he thinks your expressions are cute, and the fact that you do it at all is fascinating to him.

Lisa takes a moment to process what just happened, but very quickly gets over it. Razor and Klee are definitely well-known affectionate biters, and being their tutor she tends to receive a pretty decent amount of said biting. She'll chuckle and say something mildly teasing or offer you a snack, but a little later she may try to politely bring up the idea of a chewy piece of jewelry or something along those lines. Despite her endearment towards it, she does not particularly enjoy being used as a chew toy.

Pantalone will scold you. No hesitation, no processing time, just him sharply drawing away and hissing out an almost scathing "you stop that right now!" he's a huge germophobe and will probably end up swapping out the clothing or glove you bit. It's nothing personal, he's just extremely finicky about personal hygiene.

Pierro is completely and utterly stumped. He has no idea what you just did, or why you did it. He borders on annoyed and will question you about it - if you can't provide an answer, he just storms off in a huff (though in reality, he's going to go consult his 'sources' about what kind of modern trend biting people is).

Please don't repost, steal, copy or otherwise plagarise my writing! This includes posting translations to other sites.

[cryptidcorners]

Old Friend — Prince!Derek Danforth x GN!Reader [ Part 1/? ]

Description: A royal ball celebrating the end of a decade of pure isolation between Houses brings you and an old acquaintance together once again.

# No Request

# A.N: I'm literally gushing over DND here, lol! There's sm story shit. it's more lore explaining than actual romantic stuff, SOOO. sorry. hope you enjoy the AU pfft

Media: The Beekeeper [ AU ]

Character: Derek Danforth [ AU ]

Tags: DND/Fantasy Inspired AU, Royalty, PLOT, Lore Dumping, Friends to ? ? ?, Romantic Implications, Fluff, Slight Suggestiveness { if you squint }, Slowburn, Childhood Friends, Flirting, Catching Up, OOC!Derek [?], Sweet Talk + Reader is !GN.

Warnings: Mentions of War/Isolation, Depression, Childhood Trauma, Substances/Acholic Beverages + Smoking.

TOS. Derek Dandorth Master List {TBW}.

The ballroom had been mildly entertaining at most, while Dandorth House was certainly exotic with fruitullius pickings like booze, muzzled griffins and gowns, you had found yourself a mere wallflower near the belt of the corner. Your attentive gaze remained ill as you stared at the chorus of visitors from all across the world clad in their signature wear, dancing the night away with tipping mindscapes.

You were impressed by their shiny attempt to win over the other Houses with opium and silver statues not seduced. The idea of taking wine brewed by a Dandorth was an idea you'd never subscribe to, as much as you valued their efforts in ore distribution, they weren't a House you'd call a friend, more of a neighbor with the temper of a sun bear.

The shine of silk, flashing grins and laughter had made you feel as if you didn't belong, as if you were nothing but a lonley phantom enviously spectating the quartz floors.

Your House, Tallis, was a symbol of artistry, sculpting, poets and other powers were the foundations of your land. You were the only heir to the throne, sharing no brother or sister to extend a blade at down the line. Alas, you were greatful no family blood would bare at your fingertips, but the crippling loniliess had carved you into a quiet, yet respectful noble with dreams just like any Tallis; only you wished there was another one to share it with.

"Admiring the dancefloor are we?" A voice asked, it's tone as complex as the limestone statues of old characters fronted at the palace. You felt something buzz in your soul, and your gaze had flocked up to the host.

Prince Derek Dandorth, only, he was much older than when you last laid your eyes on him.

It was around midnight when both Houses declared they'd go into hiding to cower away from the war. It was your last royal ball together, and you weren't interested in leaving yet. You were both children then, dumb and in love. You both had scurried off and his yourselves near the old balcony that you were sure had been rebuilt with golden rimmings and white rose bushes.

"When will I ever see you again?" You asked desperly, hands interlocking with his soft fingertips. Derek's eyes had arrowed into you, deep with longing. Back when his hair was still an endless rush of dark, brunette curls and gentle highlights.

"I don't know, but it'll be soon. Our Houses may be splitting, but that doesn't mean we won't be able to dance again, will it?" Derek whispered. "We'll see each other again. We have to."

He had been wrong, and you had been grieving over that broken promise when you were children for a long time. The Dandorth and Tallis Houses were at a halt, conflicted by some nearby wars circling close to the walls.

It had resulted in both kingdoms locking themselves in their labyrinths of treasure, with eyes paved into the stone. You were isolated in your House, only seeking comfort in carving your inner desires into rich pavement that was now collecting dust in your Queenship's second guest bedroom.

Now, he was here, cocky as ever. With blonde hair and light reminces of forest green and flakes of emerald flickering across his face. His signature uniform was gorgeous, with carefully decorated leaves and patterns that resembled rich lingering. His crown set carefully in his forest of curls, and you swore you could smell cologne that burst your nostrils with pure dopamine.

"Derek?" You uttered, slack jawed.

You blinked and he waved his hand in front of your stunned expression teasingly.

His hand carefully tightened around his glass, "Now, that's no way to greet a prince in his own House, is it?" the heir cooed. Your face fell and you arched a brow, unimpressed at his mock of carelessness. Prince Dandorth was certainly an idealist, but he was definitely not an actor.

He laughed, tone deep as ivory. "I'm just messing with you, Noble Tallis." Then, he opened his arms for an inviting hug you immediately fell into. Although, he felt stiff, you could sense he was relived to see you again.

"You look different." You pulled back.

Derek's gaze remained on you, "You like it? The hair that is—I had it personally dyed, you can tell how organic it looks, yes?"

You could tell he was trying his best to seem noble. So, you teased. "Oh, the hair? I hadn't noticed, silly me. I couldn't help but notice your blush and gown—are those earrings?"

His fingers ran down the golden patterns with a soft smile. "Well, the House of artistry was attending, I had to look my best, especially for the only heir." A warm smile spread across his face. "It's been way too long." Derek said breathlessly, "I missed you."

Prince Danforth's face softened. "Well, thank the Gods."

You eased, trying to stir up some conversation. "How are you? I've heard your House is doing well after the release." 

He boasted. "People are desperate over our caverns, you would not believe how many travelers were mounted at our doorstep ready for trade." Derek confirmed after a sip, "We might be in need of your creativity again, the walls are so dull, and they can certainly use some of your flare, don't you think?" 

You were flattered. Your eyes ran down the exterior of the walls, lightly scratching your jaw. "You know, you're right. Your palace does look a little—" 

"A little, what? He urged. 

You humored. "Like it was designed by a commoner."

Derek laughed. "You've always had an eye for details like this. Good to know I wasn't disappointed to know you haven't changed that much."

Then, he asked. "How about you? Any new inventions or views on the world? Hearing about your House is like turning a Jack-in-the-box."

You chewed your lip awkwardly. As Derek had imagined, there were many views and advances in Tallis. Though, it had caused a whide fued between philosophers and their audience. It was overwhelming, but nonetheless, Tallis had been doing much better than any other House, even with its complications with political attributes. "It's . . . going well."

You knew it wasn't in Derek's character to pester, so he hummed in delight for your vague answer. His lips settled on his narrow class, drinking in a rich selection of dark champagne. His apex gaze settled on you, "Mind if I steal you away for a moment? I see you don't fancy the music or dancing." Derek offered his hand, "Just like old times," he suggested.

There wasn't a sliver of reluctance in your answer, you eagerly gripped his hand and let him guide you outside the ballroom. The wash of silence veiled over your ears as the intrusive rhythm of the party began to fade away.

You had forgotten how large Prince Danforth's palace was, with high walls itching towards the sky and silver veins ripping through the quartz floors. He drank up your silence. "Beautiful, isn't it? I know there might be a thousand mistakes in your eyes, but it's something else entirely to me. My people sculpted and built this castle for my House, my bloodline, and no matter what I do, I may never repay their labor."

Derek sighed, gaze masking apologetically as his speech had been led astray. "Sorry, I haven't spoken to you in a while. I have a lot on my chest, Noble Tallis."

"No, no. It's alright, I assure you. Don't apologize for simply speaking to me."

Derek smiled shyly, "Thank you." his voice relaxed at his offer, "Would you fancy a tour?"

"Absolutely." Your eyes fluttered.

Derek nudged his head forwards the split of hallways, "Come, then."

Your fingertips parted and you were slightly disappointed when he walked a few steps in front of you, arms spread out like a hawk as he basked in the light of the exquisite chandeliers hooked to the carved ceiling.

You felt like a child again. Two rebellious souls giggling and whispering, racing up the staircases like hummingbirds and gazing at the web of art pieces that mapped the generations of his House. Tales of war generals and royal blood rivalry. Derek in particular had a knack for history, giving his share of intelligence of his family tree with eager eyes.

"Is that your grandfather?"

"Great-grandfather." Derek corrected. "My father told me a lot about him, he was the loyalest king of this House. He truly cared for his people, and it's how we were able to advance this far at all. He just had faith." His eyes fell, "Though, I worry it's all going to go to waste."

"How so?"

Derek set his hand carefully on the painting, fingertips grazing gently across the teeth of the large canvas. "My mother has been pushing our classes too hard this last decade. It's caused a commotion within our walls, they don't trust the House anymore. I have no authority like her, she won't . . ." he choked back a cry. "I can't do anything, I'm useless. I'm only a Prince, I'm nothing compared her."

He felt your warm grasp on his shoulder. You whispered, "That's not true. You're many things, Derek. A dreamer, a loyalist. You'll be a great king, this I tell you."

Derek paused. "But what if my kingdom can't wait? They're being pushed to the edge, working like dogs. It's no good leading a nation when there's nothing left. I don't want to wait."

This was a lot to take in. Tallis had been oblivious to how quickly Danforth had been advancing like no other House, now you were truly worried. A rebellion was possible, and every House had almost lost all their work by the lower classes arriving at their pearly gates with mounts of fire.

His hands fumbled with his dressing, voice grim. "I'm the only heir, the only one left to fix up her mistakes." Derek turned to you with desperate eyes. "I feel like I'm in a cage. The walls have opened up again, yet, I don't feel free. Like a bird in a cage, do you know what that feels like? To act as an audience, almost no word in anything unless I'm told to."

You hadn't noticed Derek taking both your hands and pressing them against his chest. You exhaled lightly, "Derek. What is the queen doing to you?"

Was Queen Danforth imprisoning him? A Prince should have a voice, especially as the only heir. Your grip tightened, "Prince Danforth, whatever is happening . . . you can tell me anything. I promise, your word will remained sealed between my lips, nobody will know."

"Oh, but they will." Derek explained. "Someone will always know. There's ears in the brick and mortar, eyes from friends."

You made a noise as if you were being strangled. "But what about now? I feel as if you told me everything and nothing at the same time." You were at the edge of tears. You couldn't loose him, not again.

"I haven't told you a lick of what's truly happening." He told you. "There's so much you don't know, Tallis. So much to know, such little time."

You were so confused. This was only the tip of the iceberg according to Prince Danforth, he wasn't the type to lie for as spoiled as he was. Regardless, his eyes were the darkest shade of sincerity you had ever seen. Your voice was hushed, "What do I do? I can't leave like this, Derek."

"I promise, I'll tell you everything." Derek rested his forehead against yours, "I promise." then, he pulled away. "I love you too much to let you get hurt because of my ignorance. Time will tell, just be patient."

Derek desperately needed someone to talk to. About his injustice and personal conflict, but he felt the need to warn you as well. Something else was brewing, a conspiracy perhaps? What was Queen Danforth up to? Would you ever know? So many questions.

Then, you broke out of your paralysis when he had mentioned love. You stammered, "You love me?"

He was shocked, frozen in his step. "Of course, I do. You're so fantastic, intelligent and sensitive. If I didn't know any better I figured I'd be under a spell," Derek chuckled. "I may as well be at this point. I care about you, so much. I can't lie to you, but I can't put you in harm's way either."

Your face warmed. Before he could spin away, you held his hands tightly, getting lost in his eyes once again. His breath hitched, and you heard him swallow harshly. "Tallis?" Derek didn't pull away, you could even sense him bringing himself closer, "You know, if we do this, there will be no turning back . . ."

You were longing, "Then so be it. I've been locked away for too long, the only company being memories of you."

Derek's speech slowed, harsh and husky. "All my life, I've always gotten what I've want, everything I asked for. However, this is the first time I've felt—" he rasped. "I needed something as precious as you."

Cupid's arrow has pierced your soul, and you had read him well enough to press your lips against his own, melting into a kiss. Derek pulled away, catching his breath with a giggle. "Oh, Heavens, give me a moment."

"Never kissed someone before?" You asked.

"No, never." He hushed you with a peck, that descended into a deeper kiss. You ran your fingertips across his silky wear, and you could feel shivers running down his spine. He felt like a peasant on his knees, begging for a penny to add to his name. Derek had felt desperate before, but never like this.

A strong desire had pulled you closer, stealing each other's breath away. Your sentimental feelings grew thin once he pulled away after making a noise, which made his face flush in raw embarrassment.

"A thousand pardons, I just, got a little wrapped into it." Derek mumbled and then repeated. "Sorry,"

"Don't be, I liked it, I promise." You traced his thumb to his cheek, lightly circling his warm skin. "Thank you for taking me out, and telling me everything, or . . . most of it at least."

Derek's face softened and rested his hand on yours. His face fell, "If I could, I'd run away with you, start somewhere fresh."

"Derek, you know we can't. We're the only heirs, the only ones who can hold the throne and make a difference. It's our duty."

He dipped his head, saddened at the taste of reality, "I know, I know, but a man can dream." though your face was infectious enough to let a smile spread across his face.

The rest of the night had been tranquill and hush, a few fruitful hours of nothing but gentle praises and a few butterfly kisses here and there without disturbance, until you finally stopped near a pool where a seahawk was perched, beak wrestling weeds out of the water. It was growing late and you could sense your House would be departing soon enough.

Derek took your hand once more, resting his lips on your knuckles. "This was a wonderful evening, Tallis."

"I hope I get to see you again." You told him.

"I'll make sure to write to you, maybe through a messenger bird so it's extra private." Derek toyed. "Maybe you can send me those beautiful drawings of yours."

You smiled softly. "I'll think about it."

You had kissed him goodbye again, before you could stir away from his side, his warm breath tickled your ear. "And don't forget what we spoke about,"

Dawn was tickling the air and the clouds were heavy with the deep scarlet of sunrise. Derek had gotten no sleep tonight, as his attention was too busy wandering through chapters of you. It wasn't the only thing keeping him up, as his mind was still swampy with anxiety. He had only fueled your curiosity to solve Danforth's conspiracy, all because his emotional vulnerability had gotten the better of him and he couldn't bring himself to hold back.

He walked tiredly to his study and wrapped his hands around the careful mold of his desk, carefully reelimg out a sealed envelope from the darkness of his cabinets. A red stamped, engraved with a symbol resembling a furious bee hunching over its stinger to the side was in bold, almost intimidating him. Derek's gaze hardened, he knew there was something else to his symbol,

And he would get to the bottom of it.

[aveegrex]

DILF!SANJI

Just taking a guess at what a date with more mature Sanji would be like

genre: smut pairing: dilf!Sanji x f!reader word count: 1k cw: smoking (mentioned), alcohol consumption, blood mention (a metaphor), oral (f!receiving), vaginal penetration, kinda dominant Sanji

author's note: I'm obsessed with this man, and I love the og Sanji, but I haven't seen any speculations on what he would be like when he's older, so here is little something that I turned up with.

Just imagine a date with dilf!Sanji. 

His ways with women have changed drastically since his twenties. He’s now subtle, reserved and collected, opting for the old-school courting and treatment. No more over-the-top compliments, no more abundant lovesick gazes and servitude, oh no - Sanji has grown into a perfectly mannered man, the one who can sweep you off your feet with just a simple gesture. 

Don’t get it wrong, his attitude hasn’t changed. All the things Zeff taught him are ingrained into his DNA, and his respect for women is still one to be admired. It’s just that now he doesn’t explode his heart into your face. 

When you fall victim to his infatuation, you don’t get to pick up on it until he wants you to. He treats all women with elegance, and you’re just mildly surprised at first that you’ve come across a pirate who would exhibit such vintage consideration. But the more he courts you, the drunker you get off him, and the more you see how irredeemably clumsy other men are. He’s like a pristine aged wine that you decide to splurge on once - you take a few sips and all other drinks are mere insults to your taste buds further on. 

And the more you drink, the more you want. 

So when Sanji, a weathered pirate with a nine figure bounty over his head, asks you on a date, only then you realize that his attitude towards you was, in fact, different from other women. You remember the longer gazes and slower kisses to your hand. You remember how he always puts his cigarette out in your presence. How his eyes always pick you out of the crowd first. How the honorifics that he uses towards you are more personal. 

And when you sit across from him at the restaurant table, you know he’s got a weaker spot for you. You would be dumb not to know, when you’re at the only table left on the whole floor, sipping on a wine that’s labeled before you were born, some delicacy you didn’t know existed melting on your tongue. Sanji’s finger tracing circles on your wrist, his musky woody cologne a time-bomb for your arousal - just the setting makes you weak in the knees, wishing the evening would never end. 

And how he listens to you talk, his eyes lidded, rare but quick witted comments highlighting his attention to the story - you barely hold yourself from submitting then and there, temptation to bluntly state your other sort of appetite still not acted upon, tickling the tip of your tongue. 

You can’t help a clumsy suggestive statement slipping your lips and Sanji holds in an airy laugh, opting for a smile. He pays and tips, and slides your coat on your shoulders, offering you a hand as he notices a slight wobble in your feet. He’s a devil for the latter, knowing exactly how much his odor is driving you crazy, using your weakness for his benefit.

Yet you forgive this tiny mischief as his demeanor changes when you get to the more secluded part of town. He wastes no time nudging your chin up and pressing his lips to yours, his tongue tasting the dessert he recommended you about an hour prior. 

‘It’s getting chilly. - his raspy voice bringing on the verge of moaning. - What gentleman neglects a lady’s need for warmth?’ A true devil, - you think to yourself, hazy mind quick to catch on his implication. You just nod, letting him walk you home and into your home. 

Sanji Vinsmoke is a considerate bastard, a master tease. He has been simmering your arousal since he opened a restaurant door before you, but now he outright watches you boil in it, burning in need. He relishes in power he has over you as he sits you on the couch and kneels before you, slipping your heels off your feet and massaging the ache away. The dim lights of your living room enhance a hungry sparkle in his eyes as you whine when his thumb brushes against a sore spot. 

Sanji has grown into a shark who watches you bleed to surrender before his feast ensues. The last drop leaves you when he plants a chaste kiss to the slope of your bare foot, his eyes not leaving your once, unblinking and predatory. You just lose it, whining a pathetic “Please”, and he hoists your skirt up, ripping your soaked panties off, stuffing his face full of your weeping cunt. The obscene slurping sounds, his groans and satisfied huffs - you deem yourself delirious because no man can hide such savagery so well. He’s starved, your weak hands finding purchase in his hair only forcing him to bury his face deeper, work his tongue faster to get a fill of his dessert that he so considerately skipped earlier. 

It’s only when you’ve orgasmed twice he resurfaces from under your skirt and brings your trembling body to the bedroom, letting you fall on the covers as he rips off his clothes, wasting no time to slide in you. Swears leave his mouth and he rams into you, thrusting deeper and deeper, harder and harder until your eyes cannot even make out his form, glistening with tears of sheer intensity of it all. You don’t even moan anymore, you cry and scream, nails etched deep into his back, your own hips following him for more, more, more. 

You feel like fainting, ragged breaths doing little to fill your lungs as his groin slaps against you, his cock rearranging your insides to his liking. Your calves on his shoulders quiver, threatening to clasp around his neck and snap it any moment, but he’s already spent all his considerations on you, fully prepared to welcome death if it comes in the minute of such bliss. 

A fucked out moan leaves his lips as orgasm shudders your body, and his own one follows suit, leaving him to pant and shiver as an addict that has finally had his fill. He laughs at your unseeing gaze and lands on the bed beside you, making sure to discard any clothes left and to envelope both of you in blankets. 

“Thank you for this evening, my heart. - his whisper tickling your forehead as you doze off. - I’ll have the rest of you tomorrow”. 

reblogs are welcome, MDNI, treat your dates good and don't settle for shitty treatment youselves

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