#this was another short piece written in a rush

[kentopedia]

౨ৎ ˖ ࣪⊹ SAFEGUARD — dazai, chuuya, akutagawa

summary . . . they save you after you've been injured and captured by an enemy.

contents . . . sfw, f!reader (chuuya & dazai) and gn!reader (akutagawa), violence / blood, threats, injuries, hurt/comfort, angst, established relationship, and it's pmboss!dazai bc i can't help myself — 3.5k total

notes . . . i got this request so long ago lol. not my best work, but i have been in the worst writing slump ever and just wanted to finish something. i've also never written for akutagawa before so pls be nice <3

𝐂𝐇𝐔𝐔𝐘𝐀 . . .

there are very few times that chuuya feels he’s been outsmarted. he knows he’s not the mastermind of the port mafia, but he certainly isn’t a fool. when it comes to you and your well-being, though, his mind short-circuits, half of his intelligence draining away while his emotions take hold. 

your relationship isn’t a secret to anyone in the port mafia, which means that it isn’t a secret to your enemies either. and while most people know it’s hard to land a finger on chuuya directly, his pretty little girlfriend doesn’t have the power of a god nestled inside of her.

the rage sparks through him, growing fiercely into the blaze of a forest fire, until all he can think of is getting you home safely. he thinks of your sweet smile as he rips the door of the enemies’ base off the hinges, crushing it into a million pieces with the force of gravity. 

the men are quick to react, but chuuya hurtles the crushed door towards them, knocking three of them to their feet. another group charges at him, but their guns do little against his skill. after years of fighting some of the strongest ability users, simple criminal organizations are as easy to step over like ants. 

chuuya kills them all — except for one.

the man’s knees are wobbling, hand shaking around the gun as he realizes that these will be his final moments. there is fear in his eyes, brown ones that rest wide open, and chuuya almost hesitates. his remorse doesn’t last long, though, before he’s wrapping a hand around the man’s throat, thrusting him backwards. 

“where is she?” chuuya asks, voice sharp and commanding. 

he can feel the man swallowing. 

chuuya knows that backup is probably on the way, but it won’t matter whether they show up or not. he’ll crush the rest of his enemies just as he’s crushed the last twenty men. the poor soul in his leather hold seems to know that as well. 

“i-i’ll take you to her,” he rasps, dropping his gun to claw at chuuya’s hand. 

he drops him, lets him take a few heaving breaths and coughs, before he’s kicking at him, forcing him back to his feet.

the young man takes him up the elevator, weaves him through a hallway as chuuya leaves a scattering of bodies in his wake, not hesitating to kill a single man that gets in his way. there is nothing that can keep him from you. 

how fiercely and loyally he loves you — it drives him to near insanity. 

finally, with blood coating his face and his clothes, the young man enters a room, locked with a code, revealing you. 

chuuya’s rage is almost as blinding as his corruption, as he gazes at the sight of you. bloodied and bruised, tied up in a chair, so visibly harmed. his hands clench into fists. “get the fuck away from her,” he says to the man who seems to be monitoring you.

“what are you doing in here?” the men left in the room panic, but they don’t have time to react before chuuya throws them back at the wall, so quickly, with so much force, that their spines snap. they hit it with a sharp crack, skulls shattering against the plaster, the wall crushing beneath the weight of them. 

limply, they fall to the floor. 

chuuya rushes over to you. 

the young man that led him here disappears, but chuuya isn’t worried about him. he’s a coward; he’ll likely flee from the country and never look back. the men that truly hurt you are already dead, and he’ll burn this building to the ground once he’s gotten you away from it. 

“hey,” chuuya says, cradling your cheeks gently, trying to coax you back awake. he’s not sure if it’s exhaustion, blood loss, or the obvious head trauma that caused you to pass out in the first place. but you’re still breathing, so he counts that as a blessing. 

“hey,” he whispers again, kissing your forehead, like it will heal all your ailments. “wake up, baby. we gotta get you out of here, okay?” 

it takes you a few seconds to come to, eyes glazed over and shell-shocked as you blink at him. “chuuya?” you say; your voice is so hoarse it makes chuuya want to keel over and vomit. “is it really you?” 

guilt gnaws at him, almost crushing, at the fact that thirty-six hours passed, and you’re delirious enough not to recognize him. you probably haven’t eaten, either. 

he should’ve been there. no one should’ve ever had the chance to hurt you, yet…

“it’s me, i’m here,” he says, kissing your lips, your temple, brushing your hair away from your face. the strands are sticky with blood. “shit,” chuuya nearly shouts, pulling a knife from his pocket, sawing through the thick ropes around you as quickly as he can. “i’m so sorry, i’m so sorry.” 

he can’t get you free fast enough, and you smile at him, drowsy, your eyes fluttering shut once more. “it’s okay, chuuya,” you say, leaning your head on his shoulder. “you’re here now.” 

“you have to stay awake,” he says desperately, realizing your head is still bleeding. he doesn’t know how hurt you are. chuuya’s no expert when it comes to medicine, but he’s smart enough to know that internal injuries could be even worse than the external ones. 

“stay awake for me, okay, honey? i’ll get you back to the boss and we’ll find you a doctor. you’ll be just fine.” 

“okay, chuuya,” you hum, weakly gripping his back. seconds of silence pass before you mutter, “i just want to go home.” 

"i know." his heart pulls, and he almost lets out a cracked sob. but he refrains, knowing that there is plenty of time to drown in his sorrows later. 

finally, he gets the ropes under, lifting you from the chair. you’re so much lighter, weaker, and it makes him sick as he carries you. “let’s get you home.” 

𝐀𝐊𝐔𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐀𝐖𝐀. . .

the call comes just as akutagawa is getting ready to head home for the evening, his tasks completed, eyes heavy with exhaustion. 

normally, he doesn’t stick around to say any goodbyes, sneaking off into the darkness of the night like a shadow, blending right in. but, something about the evening, so gloomy and drizzly with spring rain, feels off. 

with a heavy knot in his chest, so much different than an incoming fit of coughs, akutagawa heads back up to mori’s office, if perhaps to only ensure that everyone else’s jobs had been completed. he’s a lot of things, but he’s never been a slacker; and he’ll do what it takes to ensure that his position in the mafia is eternally secure.

though, he doesn’t have the opportunity to get all the way upstairs before he run into the boss, who is calm, but with an air of irritation clouding him. 

he explains the current situation to akutagawa in a clipped tone, bored — an enemy group has kidnapped you, holding you hostage. 

“how rude is it to bother a man, just as he is getting ready to go to sleep?” mori says, sighing histrionically.

but what is a minor inconvenience to mori sends an entire wave of dread through akutagawa, his entire body feeling as if it’s been dipped in ice. he can’t explain the horror that washes over him, not really, because he shouldn’t feel so panicked. it is rare for him to get worked up about the danger his subordinates find themselves in, save for his sister, of course. 

but you… you’re different. 

“can i trust you to diffuse the situation?” mori asks, impatiently glancing at his watch as if that will change anything. “i can call someone else, but they will not be so quick.” 

akutagawa doesn’t even think before he accepts the job, hating the way he sounds pathetically desperate for more details. his hands flatten the edge of his cloak, as if his ability is going to take on a mind of its own. 

he calls for a driver, calm but breathing so heavily that an aching cough rises up in him. his throat feels as if it may begin to bleed, but he swallows, glances away from the driver and gets himself under control.

there’s a ransom — bring them the money and they’ll return you, mori had told him. you’re only a lower ranking member of the mafia, and someone that makes for a pretty poor bargaining chip, so the motive is questionable. 

mori probably would’ve let you die, akutagawa knows, his teeth gritting together, so much so that a splintering sound comes from it. but the boss, in his infinite, concerning wisdom, seems to also know that his loyal dog has an soft spot for you. 

as regrettable as that may be.

akutagawa has no doubt that whoever the enemy is, they are no match for him. still, a twinge of anxiety settles in his stomach, fingers jittery as the driver, despite the decreased traffic of the hour, seems to drive impossibly slow. 

“are we not in a rush?” akutagawa snaps, leaning forward.

“apologies,” the driver, says, not daring to even look at akutagawa from the mirror. but the car speeds up, enough for akutagawa to be able to notice, at least. it cools the simmer that has already begun deep in his chest.  

even so, the car seems to go at a snails pace, minute upon minute flying by, with you in the clutches of an enemy. 

akutagawa doesn’t care who they are. he doesn’t care why, or how they captured you. he wants them dead. he’ll rip them apart, easily, and he’ll make them suffer — they’ll be alive for all of it, for every second that he peels the skin from their bones, ripping the smaller ones out of their sockets. 

what he feels for you… well, it’s too hard for him to admit to himself. he has no experience with what it means to care for another person, doesn’t even know if that’s his goal. he just knows he wants to protect you.

and he can’t do that if you’re dead.

finally, the car pulls up to an old warehouse, one at the very outskirts of the port, beyond the docks and the shipping carts. it’s tucked far back, an obvious lair for some villainous organization that doesn’t want to be found. 

akutagawa gets there, but there is nothing. he hears nothing, feels no signs of life as he trudges through the puddles left behind from the earlier rain. 

a small string of panic begins again, as he wondered if maybe the call that mori had told him was only a ruse. maybe this entire time had been a distraction, a way to lure him away. there are other skill-users in the mafia, but none quite as dangerous as him. 

though, he hears it, then. a small little sound, muffled and hoarse, full of pain. 

he ducks into another corner of a warehouse, and you’re there — bound with chains and a gag across your mouth, one of your eyes blackened with bruises, your nose bleeding. 

his heart aches. never in his life has he so quickly made his way over, used the sharp edges of his ability to shear through the chains, falling to his knees as he unbinds the cloth from your lips. 

“where are they?” he rasps, mouth opening and closing, hating the sound of his own voice. he recognizes his desperation, his anger, but the affectionate sound that clips at the end is unfamiliar, as he shakily pulls himself closer to you. 

you glance up at him, eyes glossy and wide, and though you are scared, hurt, he’s so thankful you are alive. his heart flips once, as you grasp at his cloak, the material that has the blood of so many staining the threads. 

“gone,” you say, throat chalky, words nothing more than a note against the wind. “they fled when they heard it was you coming.” 

“and left you?” he asks, jaw clenching, as he hopes that the emotions aren’t as visible on his features as he thinks they are. “were you not a ransom?” 

“no,” you swallow, hard, as if in pain. he notices bruises around your neck, the shape of fingerprints indented there. “i was bait.”

anger rises up in him like a wave, engulfing him, wholly and relentlessly. he is no stranger to that, like he is the kindness you show him, the way you look at him as if he is your protector, rather than a bringer of destruction. “i’ll go after them. where are they headed? they’ll pay, i’ll slaughter—”

“ryunosuke,” you say, reaching for him as he stands, expression pleading as he backs away. “stay.” 

he has half a mind to ignore you — the enemy escaped, after all. but your voice. your eyes… you look so small sitting there, bloodied and bruised and broken. 

“please,” you try again, near tears, and though he has never been good with obvious displays of emotion, something within him snaps at the desperation in the word. 

he nods, slowing his pace as he returns to you, lets you wrap yourself in him, cling to him. his hands fall, naturally, to your waist, somehow knowing where they belong, even if akutagawa never has a clue what he’s doing with you. 

“i’ll call hirotsu,” he says simply, before pulling out his phone, not bothering to untangle himself from you. 

𝐃𝐀𝐙𝐀𝐈 . . .

dazai is not a forgiving man, and will never learn to be. forgiveness is not a luxury he is often able to indulge in in his line of work, and his heart has hardened enough that until the end of time, those that are branded his enemies will remain his enemies. 

though, in his blackened heart, one soured over the course of time, you have carved out your own little space, lit it up with golden rays of light that are fiery enough to melt the stone casing of his chest. 

his only love — his only weakness. but it is a weakness that his enemies know about as well. 

dazai tries his best to keep you safe. he always has, and he knows that, sometimes, his grasp on you can be a little too tight. that the way he tries to keep you under his watchful eye can sometimes be stifling, frustrating. 

but he can’t always be there to protect you. and it is in times like these, that he regrets letting you go without a bodyguard. he regrets that he listened to your insistence that you could keep yourself safe. 

he should’ve at least told you to take a friend. 

“boss,” his subordinate says, bowing his head, his voice pleading, desperate. “i’m so sorry. your wife—”

“if anything… anything happens to her, you will be the one responsible, do you understand?” dazai says, his eyes cold as he glowers down at the man, only a few inches shorter than him, but feeling so much smaller. “i will personally see that this act does not go unpunished.” 

“of course, sir,” the man says, and he, at the very least, has the decency to sound resigned. to accept his fate and suffer the consequences, for allowing the boss’s wife to get herself into such a situation. 

and dazai means it, every last word; if he finds you in a state closer to death, anyone who put you in harm’s way will be torn apart from the inside out. he isn’t able to think of anything but bringing you home safely, his hands shaking with rage as he sends more than enough people out on a search to find you. 

with all the strings he’s able to pull as the mafia boss, it doesn’t take long to find you, for those that have bravely — or stupidly — used his wife as bait to come forward, and offer an attempt at some sort of negotiation. 

there’s little of the conversation that dazai remembers on the phone, even less that he remembers after that. the anger bubbles up in him and grabs hold of his conscience, the emotion directing his movements with a mind of its own. 

he’s already sent out every last one of his people into the field, ensuring that the organization that had the gall to threaten you is wiped off the face of the earth. deleted from every corner of the world, buildings flattened to the ground. by tomorrow, they won’t have ever existed. 

today, he doesn’t care what happens as long as he finds you alive. 

you’re held hostage by two men — so completely beaten that they’ve given up on any restraints. whatever they wanted from you, you seemed to refused to have given up, lip bleeding, eyes swelling so badly that you can’t even open them. 

dazai doesn’t hesitate before pulling the trigger on the first man, then turning to the other, shooting the hand that holds the pistol. the man recoils, shouts, and drops the weapon completely, as dazai lands another bullet to his knee, causing him to fall. 

slowly, dazai walks up, firing again to his other arm, a loud snap echoing throughout the room. the man winces, trying to crawl to the gun, one last desperate attempt to stay alive. 

he kicks the gun away, watching, as, pathetically, the expression in the enemy’s face changes — any of his remaining hope vanishes. 

“you told me she was unharmed,” dazai says, bending down, his coat flaring out behind him as he squats. 

the man coughs, gasping for air as the blood seeps out of him. “we lied.” he smiles cruelly, and though he shares the same sort of darkness as those in the port mafia, there is something even more twisted in his smile. 

dazai hums. “you the leader?” 

the man doesn’t give an answer, but the slight twitch of surprise on his face is all dazai needs. he’s no one — just a grunt whose life was put on the line to guard you. 

“didn’t think so.” dazai shoots him once, straight through the forehead, instantly killing him. but he is vindictive, angry, and the man he truly wants to destroy, the one who took you, is nowhere to be found. another bullet lands, tearing apart the flesh of his temple, then another, and one more, his skull beginning to cave in from the force of it all. 

dazai heaves, letting the gun clatter to the ground as it runs out of bullets, and then he realizes, all this time, you’ve just been watching him. the ugliest side of him — the worst side of him. 

you’re no stranger to it, of course. how can you be, when you’ve shared a life with him for years? but that doesn’t mean he wants you to see it, see how bloodthirsty he can become. 

he stumbles over to you, where you’re still sitting on the ground, your wrist in your lap, bent at an angle that he knows isn’t right. bruises are littered across your skin, and your hair is matted from the blood that pools at your temple. 

it takes every ounce of restraint he has to stay calm, a million feelings swirling under his skin. ones that he was never familiar with until he met you. 

“i’m sorry,” he says, taking your face in his hands so, so softly, worried that he’ll hurt you even more. “i’m sorry, darling. i should’ve — i should’ve been there.” dazai notices his hands are shaking and he balls them up into fists, leaning back. “fuck. fuck — i’ll kill them all, just tell me who it was. anyone who laid a finger on you. i’ll cut them down one by one.” 

“osamu,” you say, and your voice is raspy, cracking, as your unbroken arm reaches for him, squeezing his shaking hand. “i—”

you open your mouth to continue, but only tears come streaming down your cheeks, over your bloodied lips, saltiness soaking your jawline. no words don’t leave you, but a soft sob chokes itself up your throat.

“hey, hey, hey.” dazai’s voice softens, every muscle in his body relaxing as he draws you nearer to him, into his chest with a touch that’s barely there. “you’re safe. i’m here, okay? they’re not going to hurt you again, sweetheart.” 

you sniffle, barely making a sound, but he can feel the tears drop onto his clothes, soaking the material.

“can you walk? are you hurt anywhere else?” 

you hesitate for a moment before answering; he’s not sure if there’s a reason you only answer the first question. “i can walk.” 

dazai nods, and though the rage is still bubbling there, underneath the surface, there is a coolant streaming through him at the vision of you alive. the men who did this will pay the price, but he still has you — and that’s all that matters.

thank you for reading !!! ❤︎

[noyasmashing]

Not sure if you've written for Iwaizumi yet, but all the fics I see have him as the dominant one and I can't help but want to big spoon that man. Like what if he's totally whipped for the reader? What if he just needs to be taken care of? All that's to say can I request an Iwaizumi fic where he's the one being taken care of for once? You can do whatever you want with this request since it wasn't overly specific!

A/N: Okay, so I originally planned to write just a short drabble about this, but my fingers got ahead of my brain and now it’s turned into a whole fic. I promise I’ll write a thirst piece later that focuses entirely on spoiling him. I hope you enjoy this!

CW: iwa has feels but no established relationship, sub iwa, gn!dom! reader, college au, cuddling, praise, lots of it, hand job, crying, and a bit of edging

WC: 3.8K

Iwaizumi always took pride in his assertive, no-nonsense attitude. It sometimes made him come off harsher than he intended. Yet, here’s the thing: his usual sharp words seemed to evaporate in your presence. You were just so warm and comforting. He couldn’t help but feel a lump in his throat when you smiled at him or placed your hands on his hips to slide past him. He was supposed to be the one doing that to you, damn it!

He decided he had to avoid you. It was the only way to stop these confusing feelings from intensifying. It had become worse lately; just last night, he had a vivid dream about sucking your breasts as you praised him.

Iwaizumi's eyes involuntarily squeezed shut, as he tried to suppress the embarrassing memories that flooded his mind. But before he could regain his composure, your voice pierced through the haze, "You alright, Hajime? Here, take this." He snapped his eyes open, catching sight of you sitting across from him, munching on a protein bar and offering him one. The sight of you, so calm and collected, only made him feel more flustered. His cheeks grew hot as he struggled to maintain his usual stoic demeanor.

“O-oh, uh, thanks. Just a little tired, that’s all,” he mumbled, trying to downplay his awkwardness. He took the protein bar, his hands fumbling with the wrapper as he attempted to appear nonchalant. Inside, he was mortified. Why did you have to approach him now, of all times? He felt like such an idiot. Seeing him all alone like that would surely draw your attention to him.

“Stay up too late partying? Let me guess, Toru has a hangover and skipped,” you mused aloud with a small eye roll at the setter’s dramatics, taking another bite of your snack.

Hajime smiled, a small chuckle escaping his lips. “I told that dumbass he shouldn’t be taking so many shots, but he doesn’t listen when he’s drunk,” he said, his tone laced with a mix of amusement and exasperation as he tried to maintain a composed demeanor.

Hajime's face fell as you let out a giggle at his remark, his embarrassment evident as his face flushed. "When does he listen to you, though?" you teased, a playful smile spreading across your lips.

Hajime's hand rose to his hair, his fingers raking through the strands in a nervous gesture. "Sometimes I feel like all I do is yell at him," he said, his voice laced with frustration as he reflected on his tumultuous history with Oikawa.

You couldn't help but indulge in a sympathetic coo at his confession. "Sounds like you need a break, huh?" you suggested, your tone gentle and understanding. Hajime's eyes widened as he drew in a sharp breath, trying to stop the blood now rushing to his lower regions.

“W-what do you mean?” Hajime asked, his voice low and husky, his words barely above a whisper. You bit back a smile, trying to maintain a neutral expression as you gazed at him. His attempts to hide his emotions were laughable, his face a picture of confusion and embarrassment. You could read all the emotions he was feeling right now, and it made you lick your lips.

"Aren't you tired of always being the one in charge?" you asked, your voice soft and enticing. "I bet it would be nice to be pampered, hmm?" You spoke the words slowly, letting them hang in the air as you subtly shifted your position to brush your foot against his leg. The gentle touch sent a shiver through his body, and he couldn't help but feel a flutter in his chest as your ankle teased against his own.

"I-I mean, yeah. It would be nice, considering exams are approaching," Hajime replied, his tone cautious as he struggled to decipher the intentions behind your words. He wasn't sure if you were genuinely trying to be helpful, or if you were just being playful or even flirtatious. As a result, he decided to err on the side of caution and keep his response neutral, his eyes narrowing slightly as he tried to read between the lines.

"What are you doing for the rest of the day?" you asked, your question innocuous enough, but your foot's subtle withdrawal from his leg sent a pang of disappointment through him.

"Well, my afternoon class got canceled since my professor is sick, so I don't have much to do," His voice trembled slightly as he asked the follow-up question, "W-why do you ask?" but he made a conscious effort to hide his emotions, not wanting to reveal the flutter in his chest that had accompanied his words.

"Hmmm, I don't have any more classes either," you said, a thought suddenly occurring to you as you looked at him. "Why don't you come back to my apartment? I don't think I've ever shown it to you," you suggested, a sense of surprise and awareness washing over you as you realized the truth - you'd never actually invited him over before.

"Wha—?" He cleared his throat before speaking again. "Sure," he said, adopting a polite tone to mask his surprise. "What time would be best for you?" he asked, his eyes narrowing slightly as he tried to gauge your intentions.

"Right now, silly!" you exclaimed, standing up and tugging him along by the hand. He let out a surprised gasp as he had no choice but to follow you, his eyes fixed on your retreating back.

"Don't worry, I'm only a five-minute walk from here," you teased, leading him out of the campus. You finally released his wrist, and he fell into step beside you, his pace relaxed.

A small chuckle escaped his lips as he gazed at you. "I wasn't worried," he said, a hint of amusement in his voice.

"Oh yeah. You probably run long distances for cardio conditioning, right?" you chattered as you two turned a corner on the sidewalk. "I hate running; I couldn't imagine," you added.

"It's not that bad, for me anyway," he replied carefully. Normally, he would have scoffed at someone who complained about a particular exercise, but with you, he found himself strangely indifferent. In fact, your aversion to running had suddenly made him less enthusiastic about it himself.

"Really?" you pondered. "I like mountain biking more; the views are so pretty," you said, your eyes sparkling with enthusiasm.

The conversation flowed effortlessly between you two as you strolled through the bustling streets, the sounds of the city serving as a pleasant background hum. Before long, you led him to your apartment, and you began to prepare a soothing cup of tea. He sat nervously on the mat in front of the table, his eyes fixed on the surface as he awaited his next move.

The soft melody of your humming drifted from the kitchen, and he couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt. He got up from his seat on the mat, his movements slow and deliberate, and made his way into the kitchen, where he found you busy preparing tea.

"You need any help with that?" he asked, standing in the doorway, his tall frame looming over you as you stood at the counter, his eyes meeting yours as you looked up.

You flashed him a warm smile, one that seemed to stir something deep within him. To his surprise, his legs felt like jelly, and he felt himself shrinking under the gentle warmth of your gaze. "Don't worry your pretty little head, I'm almost done anyway," you said, trying to play it off as a joke. A silly way to let him know you didn’t require his help. But as you looked up at him, you noticed his face had turned a bright, burning red.

He felt his face grow hotter by the second, his mind clouding over with a strange, fuzzy sensation. Tears pricked at the corners of his eyes, and he felt so helpless. He had no idea why he was suddenly so overwhelmed, but the feeling was suffocating him.

“Oh-hajime, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you.”you said, concern etched on your face. You thought he was upset, maybe he had an insecurity you didn’t know about. But as you set the pot down and approached him, he surprised you by wrapping his arms around you.

The hug was sudden, and it caught you off guard. "You don't know what you're doing to me," he whispered, his voice trembling with emotion. The words were meant to be strong and confident, but they emerged as a soft, anguished whisper.

Your hands instinctively settled onto his hips, and you paused for a moment to gather your thoughts before speaking. "You're right, I don't think I do," you said, a hint of curiosity in your tone. "Do you want to show me?" The words were barely out of your mouth when he began to whimper in your ear, his voice trembling with emotion.

"Please, can we go somewhere... more... more..." he trailed off, his words dissolving into a vulnerable silence. You could sense his raw emotion, and it seemed like he was searching for a way to express himself.

“My bedroom is right down here, sweetie,” you guided him towards your bedroom, leading him by the hand down the hallway. He clung to your hand nervously, his eyes fixed on the door ahead.

"Can I ask what's going on?" you asked, settling in beside him on the bed as he shifted his weight onto your lap. His larger frame was now enveloping you, his larger body practically in your lap.

"I-I don't know," he stammered, his voice trembling as he struggled to articulate his emotions. "It's just your voice is so... warm, and it makes my head spin," he admitted, his words faltering as he relived the intensity of the moment.

You chuckled softly, your eyes sparkling with amusement. "Sounds like you like being spoiled," you teased, leaning in closer to him. As you did, his nose was met with the sweet scent of your perfume, and his gaze was drawn to the plump, inviting curves of your lips. He couldn't help but feel a flutter in his chest as he wondered what it would be like to taste them.

"Would you like to cuddle for a bit?" you asked, he nodded without hesitation and he instinctively nestled into the curve of your neck, his body sprawling across yours. Your head sank into the soft pillows as he settled in, his hands awkwardly adjusting the blanket.

“You comfy?” your voice was muffled by his hair, but he felt the gentle touch of your fingers tracing the contours of his back. He shivered in response, his voice barely audible as he murmured a grateful "yes, thank you" into your neck.

Your fingers wandered through the silky strands of his hair, tantalizingly teasing them with a gentle pull every now and then, just to coax out a plaintive whimper from his lips.

Before you knew it, you became aware of a subtle, yet unmistakable, presence against your leg. It was warm, hard, and throbbing with an unmistakable rhythm. Your heart skipped a beat as you realized that Hajime was now subtly moving his hips against your thigh, his body seemingly trying to find its own rhythm.

“Hajime?" you whispered, easing yourself up slightly on the pillow. His eyes flickered up to meet yours, and you were struck by the vivid flush spreading across his cheeks and the sheen of sweat glistening on his forehead.

"Are you turned on right now?" you asked, your voice low and husky, as your hand wandered down to his hips, grazing the sensitive skin. Hajime's eyes widened in surprise, his pupils dilating as he struggled to process the sudden intimacy. He couldn't meet your gaze, his face flushing with embarrassment as he stuttered out an apology.

"Y-you're just so... so pretty," he stammered, his words faltering as he attempted to put distance between you. He edged away, his body language screaming discomfort and embarrassment, as he tried to regain his composure.

You couldn't help but coo as you took in his flustered state. “Let me take care of you.” You purred gently, making him melt.

With a gentle yet firm grip, you guided him closer, until he was seated between your thighs, his back pressed against your chest.

“Relax” you commanded at his tense frame.

“Right-sorry.” He nodded, doing his best to stop his thighs from flexing when you touched him.

Your fingers danced across his lower abdomen, their slow and deliberate movements sending shivers of anticipation down his spine. As your palms brushed against his skin, his hips instinctively lifted, his body responding to the subtle touch with a primal urge.

"So sensitive," you whispered huskily into his ear, your hot breath sending a thrill through his body. Your fingers drifted down, delicately tracing the outline of his cock still confined by his pants, and he felt his pulse quicken in response.

“'m sorry," he whispered, his voice laced with desperation, as he reached out to grasp your thigh, his fingers digging into your skin as if trying to anchor himself against the impending storm.

"Don't be pretty boy, it's adorable, you're adorable." The words were a gentle taunt, making him let out a pitiful whine. You took advantage of his vulnerability, reaching out to gently grasp his chin and turn his face towards you. His eyes met yours, filled with a mixture of pleading and shame, as he struggled to process the softness of your words.

His eyes welled up with tears as he gazed at you, his breathing quickening as a sudden gasp escaped his lips. Your hand, like a gentle thief, slid around his waistband, pulling down the fabric that had been hiding his most intimate secrets from your gaze. The soft fabric slid down, revealing the red puffy cock to you. A lewd slapping sound was heard as his member sprang forth landing on his abdomen, vulnerable and exposed.

He pinched his eyes shut, his eyelids trembling as he desperately tried to block out the reality of the situation. He couldn't believe you were asking him to make eye contact with you as you performed that intimate and revealing act.

He became suddenly aware of a refreshing sensation trickling down his length. He looked to see you expertly applying a lubricant from a bottle, its smooth glide easing onto his twitching shaft. You whispered softly, "This will help," and he nodded in assent, his voice barely above a whisper as he murmured, "It's cold."

You softly cooed, taking a moment to slowly spread the lubricant along his red, swollen cock. His head arched back in a sensual moan as your fingers delicately brushed against his tip, sending shivers through his body.

"I-I think I'm going to come." he slurred, his hooded eyes straining against the pressure of your closed palm. However, the warmth was short-lived as you suddenly pulled your hand away from him, leaving him feeling momentarily deprived and frustrated.

Instead, he was left gasping for air, his cock angrily twitching in frustration. "I can't have you coming too soon," you said, your tone matter-of-fact. "Where's the fun in that?" Your hand returned to his cock, and he sat there, unable to muster a response, his head nodding dumbly in agreement.

You resumed your gentle strokes, and he let out a low groan as he buried his face into your neck. As your hand moved faster, his voice rose to a higher pitch, his pleasure growing more intense. His thighs began to tremble beneath your touch, and despite his efforts to resist, they involuntarily closed in on themselves, betraying his mounting arousal.

You let out a soft sigh, pausing your movements to gently coax his thighs apart once more. "Keep this up and I'll have to invest in a spreader bar," you teased, shaking your head in amusement. With a gentle smile, you resumed your task, your hand moving once more.

“I’m sorry, don’t mean too.” he muttered, his voice laced with a hint of embarrassment. But the truth was, he secretly preferred the brief interruptions when you had to pause to re-spread his legs. The momentary respite gave him a chance to catch his breath and regain control. And if he wasn't careful, he risked losing himself entirely, on the cusp of a climax that threatened to overwhelm him.

His abs rippled and flexed as he writhed in your grasp, his body responding to your thumb teasing his tip that seemed to be endlessly leaking with pre cum. The sensation was too much to bear, and he let out a horse cry, his body instinctively jerking and clutching at your wrist as if seeking release from the mounting pleasure.

“fuck-fuck… fUCk. I can’t keep d-doing th-this.” he cursed under his breath. Your own body responded to his reactions, your stomach fluttering with anticipation as you watched him. The way his chest heaved with ragged breaths and the sounds he made sent shivers down your spine, leaving you aching with desire.

"I'm here to help you relax baby. You can come." you whispered softly, your voice gentle and reassuring. Your hands moved in a smooth, steady rhythm, as if guided by an unseen force. Your fingers danced across his skin, exploring every contour and curve. You couldn't resist the urge to experiment, and your fingertips grazed against the sensitive skin of his nipple, still hidden beneath his sweaty shirt.

As he let go, a torrent of white liquid burst forth from his head, splattering his shirt and leaving a visible mark. The cry that escaped his lips was a raw, high-pitched sound, filled with a mix of relief and release. The pent-up emotion seemed to pour out of him, like a dam breaking, as hot tears burned down his cheeks.

“Such a good boy, I didn’t think you would listen so well.” you praised, slowing your strokes. All he could manage was to slur his thanks and catch his breath wearily. It was endearing how overwhelmed he was from a mere handjob. You were going to enjoy having to taking care of him from now on.

[headlines-headlines]

REST & RECOVERY.

𝐊𝐚𝐦𝐚𝐝𝐨 𝐓𝐚𝐧𝐣𝐢𝐫𝐨 𝐱 𝐟! 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫.

★ 𝟏𝟖+ 𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐎𝐑𝐒 𝐃𝐎 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓.

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲! You were almost too used to seeing Tanjiro in a battered state, suppressing your feelings every time the slayer was sent on a mission. Enduring constant sleepless nights, praying he'd make it back in one piece. Just how oblivious was he to your aching heart? Is there a way Tanjiro could ever make it up to you?

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬! female bodied reader, very slightly tsun reader (i can’t help itt), smut (dur), recovering tanjiro, sneaky sex, lovemakinggg, piningggg, slight angst, pet name use, raw sex. All characters are of the appropriate age in this work.

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 6.5k (why am I allergic to writing short fics...)

𝐚/𝐧: call me butter cuz i'm on a rollllll. lol, tried adding more feelings to this one, sooo enjoy!! ;) (divider: @cafekitsune)

Kneeling on the cool wooden walkway outside the Butterfly Mansion, your hands scrubbed at the stubborn stains that clung to soaking garments. You let your thoughts pass peacefully, slipping into a tranquil daze as you focused on the task at hand, dutifully completing your chores whilst the other attendants worked within the Mansion.

It was another quiet, sunny afternoon, with the sounds of cooking, cleaning, and light chatter echoing around the estate. Views of the lush greenery in the courtyard welcomed a serene atmosphere, a stark contrast to the bickering and yelling that normally surrounded you when your slayer friends were all under the same roof. The lively trio you knew and loved were away on another mission, their longest one yet, and the uncertainty of their well-being lightly tugged at your heartstrings— a sensation you were no stranger to at this point. Each mission was riskier than the last, the boys sporting insane injuries upon their return, nearly fatal each time. Especially Tanjiro, his protective and righteous nature always causing him to suffer the brunt of whatever attacks were thrown towards his teammates.

You quickly shook your head, clearing your mind of the incoming gruesome images, and just decided to enjoy the temporary quiet in the meantime, knowing they would soon return. Hopefully safe and sound. Although, deep down, you knew the chances of a bloody aftermath were too high to ignore.

The soft sounds of splashing water and foaming soap filled your ears, slowly drawing you back into the present, until you could sense a commotion drawing near.

A panicked, frenzy of clashing voices grabbed your attention, sending you scrambling to your feet, almost knocking over the bucket full of laundry and water. It seemed as if a small mob was forming just behind the other side of the gate, forcing the kakushi from inside the manor to hurriedly rush past you and towards the source of all the racket. You were hearing buzzwords like 'medic!', 'help!', 'quickly!', being shouted full of urgency and alarm.

'What on earth was happening??' You thought to yourself, stunned as you watched the fearsome scene unfold before your eyes. The gates were flung open, numerous kakushi shouldering the weight of badly injured swordsmen, bringing them into the estate.

Your stomach sunk, seeing your friends' faces scrunched up in agony, expressions of pain and exhaustion written all over them. Your eyes landed on a familiar redhead, with his sister's arms wrapped around his midsection, guiding his battered body towards the mansion with the help of other kakushi.

'Tanjiro!' You screamed internally, a hand raised to cover your mouth, which hung open in shock. Your heart almost leapt out of your chest at the sight of him. He was definitely alive, but it seemed as if the beatings he had received had left him on right on death's doorstep. To your horror, the other two of the trio, Zenitsu and Inosuke, looked equally wounded. Dried and smeared blood, deep scratches, broken bones, darkening bruises, it was all too much to witness. You could never get used to seeing them like this, it was so frightening each time.

With your heart pounding in your chest, you flew off the walkway, rushing towards the swordsmen. Your sandals hit the ground as you ran, kicking up dirt in its wake. A barely conscious Tanjiro lifted his head ever so slightly to watch as your figure approached him, cracking a pained smile at the sight of you.

His vision was blurry as ever, but it was hard to ignore the aura of worry and panic that surrounded you, his dear friend. He hated having to return to you in such a state, however he knew this result came with the territory of being a demon slayer.

"[F/n]..., I'm back," his hoarse, broken voice greeted you. "We did it." Those few words, full of grief-stricken triumph, were the most he could muster as he started to slip in and out of consciousness.

"Tanjiro! Oh Gods...," jumbled speech tumbled past your lips. Your hands immediately came up to touch him, but stopped short of his torn jacket, afraid to make contact. You glanced at Nezuko, her sorrowful eyes meeting your own. You took a moment to look at the rest of her. Although her injuries were nearly healed, you could see the remnants of a fierce battle in the state of her clothing. A bloodied, ruined yukata, disheveled hair, and light scratches slowly dissolving into her skin. Tears pricked at your eyes, welling up and blurring your vision. But you held them back, assuming the position of the kakushi at Tanjiro's side, shouldering his weight and trudging towards the infirmary together.

⭒ ⭒ ⭒

The past few weeks were trying, filled with suturing, bandaging, and administering healing balms to the injured boys, making sure they were on the path to a full recovery. As a non-combative slayer in the Butterfly Mansion, your role was mostly dedicated to research and drug experimentation alongside the insect Hashira Shinobu. However, in cases like these, medical aid was another duty you were expected to carry out, luckily for you, it was one of your strong suits.

There was almost no end to the bloodied sheets and tools, but alas, you knew you needed to be the one to do the job. But to the boys' dismay, after providing them with their much needed medical care, you would swiftly exit as quickly as you entered. You no longer lingered around to chat, becoming less and less fond of being faced with evidence of their impending ruin. Graphic imagery was not something you could easily stomach, despite all your experience, and the jarring feeling of knowing your loved ones may one day be ripped away from you—again, hardened your heart into stone.

Your growing distance did not go unnoticed, especially not by Tanjiro. He started to pick up on your curt responses whenever you were around long enough to talk. Not even humoring the bickering sessions that Zenitsu or Inosuke would engage in, like you usually would. Now avoiding his eyes, a notable difference compared to the times you would gaze at him with such tenderness. His warmth seemed to hit a wall with you, unable to reach. It deeply saddened him, the thick scent of sorrow following you everywhere you went. He couldn't help but feel, guilty, hoping he wasn't burdening you with the traumatic aftermath of his battles. He was at a standstill, unable to figure out what he could do to make it up to you. He missed your affection more than you knew, and was going to earn it back. Some way, somehow.

Deep orange hues of a setting sun streamed in through the windows, illuminating the infirmary with a warm glow as the three men lay sleeping in their beds, quiet snores reverberating in the room. They had been healing quite well, gaining back their energy little by little, however, the strength of the medicinal teas and serums they were frequently ordered to ingest could easily knock out an adult horse.

"Thanks Aoi," you whispered, grabbing the pail of water and clean rags from your friend. Your voices were hushed as to not wake up the sleeping swordsmen.

"No problem. But let me know if you need any help, okay? You don't have to do this all by yourself y'know...," Aoi replied, a look of concern gracing her features.

"It's alright. Wouldn't be the first time," You laughed dryly, shooting her a half-hearted smile, as to not worry her any further.

"Okay, if you say so," she said softly, a bittersweet tone in her voice as she left you to work.

Turning to face your sleeping friends, you sighed as you quietly pulled up a chair next to their beds, rags and pail in hand. You started with Zenitsu, moving his blonde locks away from his forehead to run a cool, damp rag across his face, wiping away sweat and bringing down his temperature. You moved his blanket down to reach his neck, and any exposed skin around the chest area of his sleepwear, then folded the cloth into a neat rectangle to place above his brow. The same routine was repeated for Inosuke, moving his mask further away from his pillow to give you some space to work. Last was Tanjiro. Hesitantly, you approached his bed and sat in your chair next to him.

Solemnly, you watched how his chest rose and fell, a peaceful expression on his face as he slept, hinting nothing of the horrors he had seen not too long ago. His deep crimson hair framed his handsome features, luring you in to brush any wayward strands from his face. It would be an understatement to say you missed him while he was away. It was a little unfair to the other two, but Tanjiro's presence was special to you. His ability to ease your mind and comfort you so willingly whenever you needed him, drew the two of you closer. Whether it was engaging in playful banter, or sharing a long conversation to alleviate the stress of your day-to-day duties, you could always count on the redhead to brighten your day. It surprised you a little— just how quick he could coax you out of your reserved demeanor. A hand on your shoulder or a warm hug immediately melting your stern exterior. But you no longer allowed yourself to openly indulge, only yielding when you were alone or he was asleep, unable to question your behavior.

Bringing the dampened cloth to his face, you gingerly wiped his skin. Your touches were gentle, afraid to hurt him any further, as if he would break if you pressed hard enough. You admired his unwavering strength and resilience, but it never failed to leave a bitter taste in your mouth, knowing how much he had to endure. But without skipping a beat, he'd always come back to you, facing everyone with the same warm smile and firm optimism.

As you cleaned him, your mind wandered to your past conversations, eventually bringing you back to your most recent chat, occurring the night before he left.

★ ★ ★

It was pretty late, and Tanjiro happened to be awake, unable to sleep after much tossing and turning. Certain things had been weighing heavily on his mind, so he figured it would help to sit outside for a bit. Enjoying some fresh air and admiring the nighttime view of the estate would surely do him some good.

On the other hand, after working tirelessly for several hours on a new concoction in the butterfly lab, you decided to call it a night, making a few stops on the way back to your room. That's when you had found him outside, a scolding already waiting for him on the tip of your tongue.

But as sharp as ever, Tanjiro had already sensed your presence, turning to greet you.

"Oh! Hello [F/n]," He softly called out to you with a smile. "Couldn't sleep either?"

After seeing him in such a relaxed state, you bit back the fierce lecture you intended to give him, instead opting to park next to him with a sigh. He wasn't disturbing anyone, so you would just let him be for now.

"I was stuck in the lab all day. But unlike someone, I was actually heading to bed just now," you chided, giving a playful roll of your eyes.

He chuckled a little, the corners of his eyes crinkling with amusement at your faux attitude. He never took your sternness personally, knowing there was a sweet side of you hidden just beyond the surface.

"Well I'm glad you decided to join me, it's always nice to see you," he replied warmly, keeping his eyes locked with yours. You ignored the blush threatening to creep up your cheeks. It's like he knew exactly what to say to make you feel all flustered and clammy.

"Yeah yeah, It's nice seeing you too," you murmured, breaking his strong gaze to focus on something else, like the way his sleep shirt lightly billowed in the cool night air. "But seriously, why are you out here so late? You know lights out was a while ago, right?"

"Yeah, I know," he began, his tone taking a more somber turn. "If I'm being honest, ...I've been struggling to sleep for a while. After each mission, it's gotten harder to shake some of the things I've seen." His brow was furrowed in deep thought, and you could practically see the images flickering through his brain of past encounters with demons.

Your heart faltered a bit. You knew killing such unsightly creatures must've taken an enormous toll on him. His mental fortitude was unlike anything you’ve ever seen, however, his tattered body and soul after each mission couldn’t be ignored.

Scooting a little closer, you reached out and placed a light hand on his shoulder, in an effort to comfort him.

“I’m sorry to hear that Tanjiro… I wish you would’ve let me know sooner,” you said, patting his shoulder & looking back into his eyes with all the sincerity you could muster.

“I know I probably can’t help with the mental part of your missions, but it’s my job to make sure you recover physically too. And that includes sleeping properly. If there’s anything, and I mean anything you need from me, don’t hesitate to let me know… because I do… care about you and whatnot…” you stated, trailing off a little towards the end. However, you maintained an expression of deep concern and seriousness, hoping your words reached him. You wanted him to understand you would be there for him no matter what. Not just as another member of the corps, but as his friend.

Tanjiro’s eyes widened for a moment, mouth slightly agape from processing your words. But without skipping a beat, a look of genuine happiness washed over his face. His gentle smile returned, and his hand came up to softly pat the top of your head.

“I appreciate that, [F/n]. I’m glad to have a wonderful friend like you by my side,” He replied, gently smoothing your strands. He watched a look of relief brighten up your beautiful features. In truth, he held back the urge to state that he did need something from you. More than just your medical care and aid. He knew that deep down, he wanted a place in your heart. Even though the trials and tribulations of being a demon slayer often broke it. But he held his tongue, knowing he would be asking for too much. He could not guarantee you the love you deserved, much less his own life after each mission. But it was why he fought so hard each time, to protect the ones he loved. To protect you.

Meanwhile, you were tempted to swat his hands away from your scalp. But you had to admit, it felt pretty nice. You secretly relished in the moments where Tanjiro would dote on you, as an affectionate older brother would. Not that you would ever tell him such a thing.

“Of course. Anytime,” you replied.

You both sat there for a moment, gazes turning back to the pretty moonlight illuminating the courtyard. Not realizing how close the two of you had become. Physically.

Tanjiro’s arm had wrapped around your back in a side embrace, a hand cupping your right arm comfortably. You leaned on his chest, his shoulder supporting your head. You nestled more into the heat of his body, soothed by the light drum of his heartbeat. And you both stayed like that for a while. Not speaking, simply enjoying each other’s company.

It didn’t occur that you should be leaving, until your eyes snapped open, the muted hues from the approaching sunrise invading your vision.

Did you doze off? Goodness, for how long?? You could feel Tanjiro’s cheek & chin basically forming an imprint atop your head from the weight of his body. His arms totally enveloped your figure in a bear-hug embrace. Was he always this heavy? Or was it because he was so… close?

At least he smelled good. Really good too. Smoky undertones, with notes of light wisteria emanated from him and clung to his night shirt. And just when did you wrap your arms around his waist, cuddling him so tightly? It was certainly too late— er, rather too early to be out here. You both should’ve been on your way to bed by now.

Hastily unwrapping your body from his grasp, you happened to wake up the also snoozing Tanjiro, who reluctantly came to after feeling the loss of your body heat. Rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, he noticed your frazzled state.

“Mmh… [F/n]? What’re you—“

“Uh— I should go.” You blurted out, face exploding with heat at the realization of you spending most of the night with him. A little disoriented, you quickly rose to your feet, smoothed a hand over your clothes, and shot him a quick ‘goodbye!’ before speeding off in the direction of your room.

Tanjiro watched you leave, quite abruptly in fact, and couldn’t help but laugh softly to himself, the scent of embarrassment right on your tail.

★ ★ ★

You had just finished wiping down the three young men in the infirmary room, and was now in the process of gathering your things to leave, when the sound of rustling sheets caught your attention. You quickly glanced in the direction of the noise, only to be met with the familiar sleeping faces of the injured men.

A sigh of relief escaped you and you turned back around, continuing to place all used cloths into the bucket.

“[F/n]..?”

Tanjiro’s voice, laced with raspiness from his slumber, called out your name.

You chose not to engage, turning on your heel to leave, before he called out to you again.

“[F/n], wait— don’t leave. Please.” He pleaded softly, his voice dropping in volume. He just wanted a little more of your time. He regret that he couldn’t prolong your tender touch, aware that it was you who cared for him a few minutes ago.

Facing him, you could see the heavy disappointment pooling in his eyes, and consequently, averted yours. You couldn’t bring yourself to answer him, and instead, waited for him to speak.

He arose from his cot slowly, his feet meeting the cool wooden floor before he fully stood, lightly stretching his limbs with a yawn. His sleeping shirt was left atop his sheets, allowing you to see his broad chest and abdomen— peppered with long-faded bruises and scar tissue resembling the shape of slashes. His battle scars. His pajama pants hung loosely around his hips, encouraging your eyes to follow the path where his skin dipped underneath, the defined shape of a v protruding from—

‘What am I doing? I should wrap this up quick so I can go’

You dismissed any wayward thoughts crossing your mind, ignoring the creaking of the floorboards as he made his way over to you.

“[F/n]…”

Gods, he needed to stop saying your name like that. Softening his voice to damn near a whisper, trying to coax you out of your hiding place, as if you were a stray kitten.

You kept your eyes trained on the skin of his chest, which was a foot or two away from your face now.

“Are you… upset with me?” Tanjiro looked down to find you refusing to meet his eyes, reaching forward when a few strands of hair fell in front of your face as you looked down at your socks.

You paused for a moment, chewing your bottom lip, trying to gather your thoughts. He was standing so close, and you imagined how mortifying it would be if he saw your quickly reddening face. You almost didn’t register the swipe of his fingers tucking your hair behind your ear.

“No, Tanjiro. I just— I don’t think we should talk… well, not about this, not here…,” your thoughts came out jumbled, and you were suddenly having such a hard time speaking.

Without much of a response, the redhead took your hand in his, and started off in a random direction away from the infirmary, tugging you along with him.

“Woah—! Can you slow down?”

He didn’t answer. His grip was firm and unchanging, and you found yourself being yanked in the direction of a supply closet, to then be pulled inside with him.

In total darkness, there were sounds of a door clicking shut and some shuffling, before the cord to a lamp was pulled, illuminating the confined space.

You’ve only been in this closet maybe a handful of times? Just to quickly grab medical supplies, cleaning materials, and other miscellaneous items that lined the shelves on the wall— in instances where you couldn’t make it to the larger ones. You kept your trips short due to the the restricted amount of space in the room, which could probably only hold around 5-6 people (un)comfortably. Needless to say, the proximity between the two of you shrunk further than what it was in the infirmary.

“…Tanji—”

“Why have you been avoiding me, [F/n]?” Tanjiro placed both of his hands on your shoulders.

For a second, you thought he was going to rattle you back and forth like a snow globe. Or even gift you with one of his famous headbutts. However, he held a serious expression, eyes scanning your face for signs of an answer, any indication of what was brewing inside that head of yours. With his sense of smell, he could pick up on inklings of several emotions. Anger. Hurt. Sadness. Even guilt. As well as something else he couldn’t quite place a finger on, its depth was strange and confusing. 

You snapped your head up to meet him,  a look of incredulity as clear as day. There was no way he could be so clueless.

"Are you kidding me?" You hissed, narrowing your eyes at him. "Am I just supposed to sit by and watch you get killed?"

Tanjiro had to admit, he was a little taken aback. He was moreso expecting you to lash out about something he may have said or done, much less a fear of something so gruesome. You watched his shoulders fall a bit, concern now paintings features. Not waiting for a response, you continued.

"I'm not sure I can do this anymore... watching you all suffer like that… so often...," you struggled to finish, taking a step back. Your throat closed up each time you attempted to swallow the lump lodged in it. Several memories of the boys returning within an inch of their lives, flooded your mind. Burning tears welled up quickly, and you forcefully blinked them back. 

"I don't know how much more I can take...," your voice cracked. Hot, fat droplets began to roll down the curve of your cheeks, streaking your face with tears. 

You felt strong arms gently pulling you into his chest, and wrapping around your back. Your face was pressed to his warm skin, tears staining the area.

"Oh [F/n]... I'm so sorry... I didn't know." He consoled you while you quietly sniffled, trying to hold back the overwhelming emotions crashing over you in waves. His hands rubbed giant circles around your back, coming up to cradle your head. "I didn't know you were suffering so much, and all alone..."

"What would I do? If you never came back?...How am I supposed to move on?"  You hiccuped, your words muffled the way you hid your face so deeply, flushed with embarrassment.

"It's okay," He whispered into your hair, lightly rocking you from side to side. "I'm not going anywhere, I promise. I'm sorry I've made you worry so much, love." 

You pulled back a bit, craning your head up to examine his features. He gazed upon you with such heartfelt concern, that you had no other option but to let your hardened exterior melt away once more.

"You promise?" You repeated. One of his hands came up to swipe away drying tears with his thumb, holding your face in his palm. The other was placed at the small of your back.

"I promise."

Your eyes trailed from his burgundy orbs to his warm smile, and down to the taut chest with your now-dry tears displayed.

His thumb inched closer to your puffy lips, smoothing over your bottom lip, eyes trained on your little pout. Everything about you was undeniably beautiful. His heart soon became heavy. He couldn't believe he was the source of so much of your pain, and better yet, failed to notice your suffering. His pretty companion. Tanjiro intended to rectify the situation in any way he could.

The complicated scent his nose was picking up on earlier had grown tremendously, now a bit more recognizable. You were sexually frustrated in a way, with all these negative feelings suppressing any urge you had to express romance, affection, or anything similar. He would take care of that. He would take care of you.

"Can I make it up to you, [F/n]?" He breathed, his eyes low. It was more of a suggestion than a question, as he leaned in, taking note of the way your eyes had already fluttered closed, anticipating the touch of his lips.

"Ye— mmph!" Your reply was cut short with the soft collision of his lips on yours. You couldn't deny the way you wanted him, locking lips in a rhythmic fashion, and following his lead. The kiss was romantic, passionate, with feelings of warmth and desperation seeping through. His rough hands trailed down to grab the flesh of your ass, palming and squeezing it. You let soft, wanton moans slip past your mouth, and he swallowed them all, tongue now hotly wrestling with yours. 

His hand trailed back upwards to undo the knot in the back of your apron, pulling away to slip it off, then reattaching his lips to yours.

The apron lay discarded on the floor as you continued to lock lips with the redhead, pants and heated breaths now filling the small space.

Pulling away, Tanjiro admired the way you looked. So soft and sweet, he wanted to shower you in affection. He knew it wouldn't make up for the pain you've experienced, however he was determined to try. He placed a kiss to your forehead, then to your cheek, hands caressing the sides of your face, then holding the first button of your jacket between his fingers.

"Can I?" The request came. He needed to know you were okay with this, and if you'd allow him to take care of you in any way he could.

"Yeah," you nodded, a little bashfully. You couldn't really look him in the eyes while he unbuttoned your uniform jacket, revealing the bindings you wore underneath, holding your breasts.

Tanjiro smiled softly, finding your slight embarrassment to be endearing.

"You know, every inch of you is beautiful," he began, as your eyes rose to meet his. "I'd like to prove it to you, if you'd let me."

Hands trailed up your waist, cupping your tits through the fabric, squeezing and slipping underneath to meet skin. He pulled you in more, with a hand returning to the small of your back, and the other pawing at your breast, finding the nipple and lightly tweaking it. Chaste, warm kisses trailed from your jawline down to your collarbone, and you felt yourself arching into him, melting under his touch. You allowed his hands to roam freely, slipping off your bindings, and holding your tits in place for his mouth to latch on.

The temperature in the closet soared, and you felt as if most of it was condensed within your body, the way Tanjiro's touches lit you on fire. You were struggling to keep quiet, even more so when you felt the rough pads of his fingers slip past the waistband of your skirt and panties, finding your clit.

"Oh... fuckkk," you drawled, feeling his fingers rubbing circles on your sensitive nub. His breath fanned your neck as he pressed his body to yours, fingers keeping a steady pace. Your hips had a mind of their own, bucking into his hand a few times, whines and gasps falling past your lips. Jolts of electrifying pleasure shot through you, and you could feel yourself coating his fingers with your slick the more he rubbed your pussy.

"Pleasepleaseplease..." you begged, rocking your hips more into his hand while he held you in place. You were almost there.

"That's it, keep going my love," Tanjiro doted on you, encouraging you to chase your high under him.

The tightness in the pit of your abdomen grew, your cunt spasming around him. You couldn't hold back much longer.

"C-cummingg, i'm cumminggg," you whined, eyes fluttering as you let the tension snap, creaming on his fingers.

Tanjiro felt you coming undone, rubbing your wetness around the opening of your entrance. He used the lubrication to push in a middle finger into your heat, feeling how you tightened around the intrusion.

"Good girl, you can give me another one right?" he praised you.

You groaned at the feeling of being stretched open with only a single finger, an orgasm softening the sensation. Curling it, his finger rubbed against your plush walls, soon being joined by another, then another, making it a tight fit. Your head lolled back, the sounds of your sopping wet cunt filling your ears. You lifted a leg around his hip, for easier access, as he steadily pumped in and out. His eyes were trained on you, watching your expression as you mindlessly ground into his hand more, still recovering from when you first came. You were already reaching your next peak rapidly, struggling to catch your breath.

"Hnghh... Again... it's gonna– i'm gonna-!" Your words melted into gibberish as you found yourself cumming again, quiet, broken cries of Tanjiro's name on your tongue.

He shuddered, feeling how you twitched underneath him. His cock was straining freely in his pants, pressed against against your hip. He wasn't wearing any undergarments to catch the weeping drops of precum you elicited from him.

Picking your head up, you gazed at him with a hazy look in your eyes, cheeks rosy with an afterglow. He wanted to picture you like this forever, a beauty nestled in his arms.

Hooking his thumb under his waistband, Tanjiro pushed down his night pants with ease, letting his member spring free. You glanced down to see his cock bobbing heavily, droplets slick on his tip. His hand reached to grab underneath your knee, holding your leg up to his hip for support.

"You think you can guide me in, my pretty girl?" He sighed, the length of his cock resting underneath your slightly ajar panties.

You bit your lip and nodded, reaching for him. Your hand wrapped around the girth of his cock, giving it a test stroke. You felt how hot it was, and how you couldn't fit it all in your hand, even if you tried. You imagined how it would feel inside you.

Tanjiro focused on keeping his composure, trying not to buck into your warm hand, but how could he? The girl of his dreams was stroking his dick, and all he wanted to do was let you keep going. But instead, Tanjiro reached underneath that uniform skirt, and pulled your panties to the side, letting you insert him in. His free hand returned to holding the plush of your ass.

Using his tip to gather some wetness, you rubbed his dick on your slit, then pressed the head into you. A shaky groan left his throat, Tanjiro's eyes locked on where he disappeared under your skirt. Fitting him inside was a team effort, as there was no way you could get him inside on your own, even as wet as you were.

The redhead used his pelvis to push inch after inch into your heat, cock twitching the deeper he sunk in. The slow stretch burned, and tears threatened to prick the corners of your eyes.

Tanjiro leaned forwards to press a kiss to your forehead, comforting you through the initial pain.

"You're doing so well, pretty girl, just a little more for me, okay?" He cooed, his breaths becoming labored at your temple.

You could only mewl in response, wrapping your arms around his neck, squeezing your eyes shut, and letting the sensation of his cock filling you up overtake you. He was impossibly deep, sliding against places you could never reach with just your fingers. Your pussy tightened around him further, bullying his still-weeping cock into wanting to cream your walls.

"S-so tight, g-gonna start moving now," Tanjiro gave a quick thrust, fully bottoming out, letting out a sultry moan at your ear. You were basically incoherent, his name a repeated mantra at your lips. He pulled his hips back, dragging his cock out, to then plunge back in, almost knocking the air out of you. His thrusts were hard and deep, passion embedded within each one. He ground his hips into yours, keeping a steady pace... he was going to savor this. He could feel his tip hitting a spongy surface, bumping at the entrance of your womb every so often, and directed his thrusts into that very spot.

Your stifled moans clashed and melded in the space, the two of you drowning in pleasure together. It felt as if no one in this world existed but the both of you in this very moment.

Tanjiro picked up the pace, leaning you back a little to reach further inside, as much as he could, the sound of skin-slapping and squelching in his ears. His deep grunts and sighs continued, each time he pounded into you.

" 's too muchh, I can'tt" you droned, feeling yet another coil twist aggressively in the pit of your belly, threatening to snap at any moment. Your standing leg grew tired, overexertion settling into your side.

"You're almost there, you can do it my love," Tanjiro whispered, intending on making you cream on his cock again, and again. Pounding into you a few more times, he felt the siren's call of your orgasm, your cunt tightening around him, then wildly spasming. You leaked all over him, soaking the front of his pants.

"Such a good girl for me, aren't you?" He mumbled, watching your mouth fall open, eyes roll upwards, and your body shuddering underneath him.

He fucked you through your orgasm, slowing the pace once you started to come to. He let his cock drag out of you, still painfully hard. He hadn't yet finished, his dick begging for release, but he ignored it just a little longer. Fortunately though, his stamina was excellent, one of the many pros of being an experienced swordsman.

Once your eyes met his, albeit with a fucked-out expression all over your face, Tanjiro gave you a request.

"Do you think you can jump up here?" He motioned carrying something with the hand not holding your spasming thigh. "I promise i'll catch you," he cracked an amused smile at your look of disbelief.

"O-oh okay, but I don't wanna hurt you," You hesitated. You were met with a simple shake of his head, and Tanjiro tapped the side of your thigh, signaling that he stood firm on his decision. You took a deep breath, tightening your arms around his neck, and leapt up, using the last of the strength in your trembling legs.

He caught you with ease, wrapping your legs around his waist tightly, and placing his hands under your ass, giving it a light squeeze.

"See? Nothing to worry about princess," he chuckled. A small whinny of protest left your throat as he reached back under your skirt to move your panties out the way. However, he wasn't careful and ended up tearing through the bottom of the underwear's fabric, with a quick ripping noise audible in the space.

Tanjiro's eyes widened, immediately meeting yours. The look of pure shock was actually a little funny, and you giggled when he sheepishly mumbled a 'sorry', placing his face in the crook of your neck.

A hand held your ass, and the other placed his cock back at your entrance, and you braced yourself for the brief stretch as he sunk you back down onto him. A strangled moan left you, and you clenched around him, letting yourself feel him drag your cunt up and down the length of his member.

Up and down, up and down, Tanjiro hands gripped the fat of your ass, bouncing you on his dick, returning to the quick pace he once had. You were leaking profusely, dripping from his dick to his balls, wetting the top of his pants even more.

Despite trying to keep it down, the sound of skin slapping echoed each time he slammed you down on his dick, the both of your hushed cries and broken grunts and moans filling the atmosphere.

Tanjiro finally felt himself nearing his peak, with your ass bouncing & clapping so well on him, sending him barreling towards his release.

"Fuck, I-I think i'm close," he groaned, his dick pulsing heavily inside you. You could feel how it throbbed harshly, bumping at your g-spot, bullying your poor cunt. She was about to come undone as well.

Tanjiro slammed your hips into his a few more times before lifting you up, shooting warm spurts of his seed all over your orgasming cunt. Quiet, breathy moans of your name fell from his lips over and over, burying it into your neck he as he rubbed his cock through your folds, smearing his seed across your cunt.

He held you for a couple more seconds, pressing slow open-mouthed kisses to your throat while coming down from his high. You sucked in deep breaths, feeling your body begin to relax after experiencing wave after wave of pleasure. You were definitely at your limit. But you couldn’t be more content, after making amends with the boy your heart yearned for.

Placing you down gently, Tanjiro made sure to keep a steady hand at your waist, guiding you.

“We should probably get ourselves cleaned up. Okay, my love?”

® 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬-𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬. 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐝. 𝐃𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐜𝐨𝐩𝐲, 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭, 𝐧𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐮𝐦𝐛𝐥𝐫 𝐨𝐫 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐦. 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞𝐬, 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬, & 𝐫𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 <𝟑

[b0r3dtod3ath]

Can you write something cute and fluffy with Oscar and he says "i wanted to say the first "I love you" without stuttering but i failed at that."

a/n: Thank you for the request! This line is so incredibly cute. I decided to make it a high school au because it reminded me of a first love. Oscar is a more introverted, alone but not lonely type of student whereas the reader is liked for her social skills and kindness. I hope you will enjoy it!

Your high school was filled with typical morning chatter. Locker doors slammed, laughter echoed, and friends rushed to each other to catch up on their weekends. You flashed smiles and waved at your friends as you made your way down the hallway. 

As you opened your locker, something unusual caught your eye. A small, neatly folded piece of paper fell to the floor. Although being under the assumption that it’s just a joke or some kind of ad for a school event, it got your interest. You picked it up and as you unfolded the paper your eyes were met with a tidy, sculptures handwriting:

Dear Y/N,

I’ve admired you from afar for some time now. Your smile brightens even my darkest days. I don’t have the courage to tell you this in person, but I hope this note brings a smile to your face. Thank you for being you. You are truly special.

Your Secret Admirer <3

Your heart skipped a beat as you read the note. You looked around, wondering who could have left it. A feeling this could be a joke crossed your mind but the message was so unexpected and sweet that you ignored it. A small smile played on your lips as you folded the note back and slipped it into your bag. Little did you know, a pair of nervous eyes were watching from around the corner, a silent hope burning that you would appreciate the gesture.

The letters became a usual thing. You found them everywhere.

This one was found in your locker. It was black ink on a off-white almost beige color paper:

Dear Y/N,

Yesterday as I walked through the hallway I heard you. I didn't see you but I think I could recognize your laughter from a mile - it always makes my heart skip a beat. Your happiness is contagious, and I find myself smiling just thinking about it. I hope you have more moments like that every day.

Your Secret Admirer. 

You found another hidden in your textbook. You don’t know how it even got there - you didn’t borrow it to anyone, or leave it unattended but your admirer still found a way. The paper was almost baby pink and it contrasted nicely with a dark blue ink. What caught your eye was that the note didn’t look as if it was written with a normal pen. It had tiny splotches - it definitely was a fountain pen:

Dear Y/N,

I noticed you stayed late to help clean up after the school event. That was really nice of you. I wonder what is this new kid that you talked with today like. You definitely made them feel welcome. I think everyone just feels better when you are around. It’s one of the many reasons I admire you. You have such a big heart. 

Your Secret Admirer. 

P.S.: I like that new shirt that you wore yesterday. This color really goes well with you hair.

And many more. Some were short, written on a different paper with a normal pen, almost as if created in a rush. The short ones always contained comments on most recent situations. 

Little did you know, behind all of this stood Oscar. You have seen him here and there and even spoken with him a few times but it had never crossed your mind it could be him. Every other night Oscar sat at his cluttered desk, a small lamp being the only source of light in the dark room. He always wrote at night - the silence and peace helped him pour his emotions. He had a stack of pastel-colored paper in front of him, each one carefully selected. Before starting each letter he took a few deep breaths to calm him down. The words flew with a mix of anxiety and admiration, carefully expressing what he felt. He was reading over the words for what felt like the hundredth time. Were they too cheesy? Too forward? He wanted to convey his feelings without overwhelming and scaring you. After a moment of hesitation, he decided it was perfect and added a small doodle of a flower at the bottom, a final even more personal touch. 

Oscar carefully folded the paper into a small, neat square and placed it in a tiny envelope. He wrote your name on the front and sealed it with a heart-shaped sticker he had found at a craft store. He had visited that place so many times that he became a topic of conversations between the ladies working there. As he slipped the note into his backpack, ready to deliver it to your locker the next morning, his mind raced with anticipation and nervousness.

Almost every night as he laid in bed, his thoughts rushed, wondering if you would ever find out that he was Your Secret Admirer. He hoped that, even if you never found out, his words would bring a bit of happiness to your day. And maybe, just maybe, one day he would find the courage to tell you in person.

By now, you had grown accustomed to these sweet notes from your secret admirer, each one bringing a smile to your face. You carefully unfolded the lavender paper, revealing the familiar handwriting:

Dear Y/N,

I hope this note finds you well. Writing these to you has been the best part of my day. Seeing your smile when you find them brings me more joy than I can put into words. I’ve been gathering the courage to ask you this for a while now, and I hope it’s not too forward.

Would you meet me by the old oak tree in the schoolyard after classes today? I’d love to finally tell you all the things I’ve written in person. If you feel comfortable, I’ll be waiting there. If not, I’ll understand, and I’ll keep cherishing the moments from afar.

Yours always, O.

A mix of emotions washed through you – excitement, curiosity, and a touch of nervousness. You read the note again and again, making sure you hadn’t missed anything. The way he signed himself made your heart beat faster. The idea of finally meeting your secret admirer was thrilling, but also a little daunting. Who could it be? Your mind raced through the possibilities.

The end of the school day approached with an unusual slowness, each minute stretching out as your anticipation grew. When the bell finally rang, you made your way outside, heart pounding in your chest. The old oak tree was a quiet spot, tucked away from the main bustle of the school. It was the perfect place for a private conversation.

As you approached, you saw a figure standing by the tree, nervously shifting from foot to foot and playing with his fingers. Oscar looked up as you approached, a mix of hope and anxiety in his eyes. He gave you a shy smile, and you couldn’t help but smile back.

“Hi,” he said softly, his voice trembling slightly. “I’m glad you came.”

“Hi, Oscar,” you replied, feeling a surge of warmth at his genuine nervousness. “I’m glad you asked me to. I enjoyed your notes a lot”.

Oscar took a deep breath, steadying himself. “I’ve wanted to tell you for a long time, but I was always too shy. Writing those notes was my way of sharing how I feel without getting too scared”. 

You nodded, appreciating his honesty. “They were amazing. They really made my day. I have a special box for them under my bed”.

Oscar’s face lit up with relief and happiness. He looked in your eyes and chuckled which made both of you more relaxed. “I’m so glad to hear that. I’ve admired you for so long, and I just wanted you to know how special you are”. 

You took a step closer, feeling a sense of connection and understanding. “Thank you, Oscar. That means a lot to me”, 

Oscar’s eyes got lost in yours. He stayed silent for a moment before taking a deep breath. His words stumbled out in a rush "I... I wanted to say the first 'I love you' without stuttering, but I think I’m failing at that”. 

Your heart melted at his vulnerability. "It's okay, Oscar," you said gently. "It's perfect just the way it is”. You wrapped your arms around his and rested your head against him. Oscar’s eyes widened in surprise, but he didn’t pull away. For a moment, the two of you stood there, the weight of unspoken feelings hanging in the air. 

“I’d like to get to know you better,” you said, your voice soft but confident. Oscar’s smile grew, and he squeezed your hand gently. “I’d like that too. A lot”. You shifted to look at him one more time “You wanna go on a date? Like right now? A little walk could be nice”.

The following afternoon was spent on conversation and laughter. Oscar slowly opened himself and allowed you to get to know him. You walked together hand in hand as the sun set. When it started getting dark Oscar insisted on walking you home. The day ended on your front porch, with your lips on the boy’s cheek causing them to go red. 

June 22, 2024

(if you have any ideas for a part 2 i'm totally down to write it, i have a few ideas for this trope already)

[hwaightme]

Lone soul

(masterlist)

🏢pairing: singer!seonghwa x gn!reader 🏢genre: comfort, healing, angst, fluff, sci-fi/spec.fiction, soulmate au 🏢summary: numb to the pleas of those who receive the 'lone soul' verdict, what can happen when a man who lives for love enters your office, and for the first time you are met with eyes that wonder, that care, that feel so familiar, so true? 🏢wordcount: 4.1k total 🏢warnings/tags: unedited, set in another reality (softcore 1984?), discussing romance/love, fictional gov structures, soulmate theory/lone soul theory, partnership, companionship, sweet conversation, romance/romanticism, learning about what makes you who you are, trust, bonding, mutual respect 🏢 taglist: at the bottom of the fic 🏢 a/n: crafted after the beautiful ask from @sorryimananti-romantic <3 thank you my love <3 and to all, thank you for reading, any notes/reblogs appreciated!

Early morning - perfect time to check the mail, perfect time to watch the world fall apart. Each letter on the page left a searing sensation, hot iron piercing through the skin and twisting itself again and again, confirming the one thing that the reader feared, in cold formal terminology. There was little left to suggest any alterations, no additional words to imply an uncertainty or the need for a re-testing. Nothing. The letter, along with the rest of the contents of the hefty envelope were clear as the breaking of Park Seonghwa’s heart - he was a Lone Soul.

Rushing back inside, cowering away from the horrifically cheerful chirping of the birds outside, the young man stared at the piece of paper, flipping it again and again in his hands as if the words were going to magically change themselves and reveal a deeper meaning, or express their sincerest apologies for the mistake. He had been so certain in himself, in love, that Seonghwa had never even imagined the possibility of receiving anything from the National Soulmate Register Office aside from a prompt response to his request for a Soulmate Search.

What could this mean for his career? He, a song-writer with more lyrics written about love than he could remember - how would fellow musicians, artists, groups, companies, the public react upon hearing that the creator of their favourite tunes was confirmed to be lacking in a soulmate. How could he craft songs about love when he was not destined for it? When he would never find out the real feeling of meeting and having a soulmate, and watching the stars align? Seonghwa glanced at the awards that decorated the display case in his living room, settling on titles ‘Meant To Be’ and ‘Love, Love, Love’. This had to be a joke. A cruel joke. He knew love better than anyone could, he could feel it, express it and write it. Certainly better than anyone at that damn Office could. Seonghwa’s anguish rapidly transformed into a seething anger as he slammed the papers onto the coffee table and stormed away to change into the nearest outerwear he could find. With equally feverish determination and the envelope wedged under his arm, the man sped to the metro, only checking the location of the Office when he passed the turnstiles. 

If one were to ask any friend, neighbour or relative, they would all say that Seonghwa was a hopeless romantic. A believer in a happily ever after, a person who grew up overcoming so many challenges and turning to be surrounded by and receiving so much love that all he wanted to do was to share it. Truthfully, you were intrigued by his result as much as he was, this onyx-haired man with his head cradled in his hands, eyes studying the carpeted floor beneath him as he awaited for any elaboration from you. But there was no such thing as a mistake in your line of work. With a short sigh you finished your inspection of Seonghwa’s result letter, setting it down on the centre of the table, and began to type up his details for what you called a ‘routine check’ - truly, it was you making airs and pretending that you were trying your hardest to see if anything at all could be changed. A cruel, but necessary dance to ease the fall of those who ended up on the Lone Soul Registry, since, the sooner the individual accepted it, the sooner they could begin taking steps towards another future.

You suppressed a bitter smile; parents who were soulmates, brother who had found a soulmate early on in his life… no possibility of this outcome being hereditary. Checking key milestones of his life, you could only see things that point towards adoration itself and an appreciation of life’s beauty. There was even growth to self-acceptance and self-love - commendable. Scrolling, scrolling through, now accompanied by Seonghwa’s desperate gaze settled on your form that forced you to control your bored expression and settle on professional neutrality, there was nothing that gave you obvious hints on why exactly this young man was now in the Registry, but your judgement decided against pursuing this curious case further. It was far too early, on a Friday, and any more snooping would most certainly be above your pay grade and above average activity.

“Unfortunately, I cannot provide you with any more information other than what had already been given to you through the letter and booklet. If it is of interest to you I can provide you with some more resources on potential Lifestyle adjustments and point you to Lone Soul networks-”

“What I need is answers!” Seonghwa raised his voice, setting a hand down onto the edge of the desk a little too aggressively for you to feel totally comfortable. Your eyes narrowed as you regarded him with suspicion.

“Sir, all that could be provided to you-”

“This is a government office, for goodness’ sake. Don’t you have access to everything? This isn’t possible. This cannot be possible. How am I, of all people, a Lone Soul?”

“You are not the only Lone Soul, Mister Park. And yes, we are a government office, and as such, are able to offer you a number of resources that can help cope with the change and find a new rhythm-”

“New rhythm, you have got to be kidding.”

Biting the inner corner of your upper lip you admonished yourself for the joke that slipped through in response to the agitated visitor. Luckily for him, and perhaps unluckily for you, he had made it into the Office right at opening time, and coincidentally, you had no consultation bookings set for the hour. Of course, the receptionists had to be kind enough to change that in the blind of an eye, and now you had to power through yet another session of all stages of grief while not yet having drunk a single cup of coffee. The man was adamant on getting something, anything out of you - you were sure of it, even if it was a false promise. Inspecting his profile, which you pulled up and exploded onto the full screen of your monitor once again, you noted his request submission twenty seven days ago. And then another one, twelve days ago. All asking the same thing: who his soulmate was, what he could do, so on and so forth. The usual. So he was a desperate one. A shame.

“Unfortunately there is nothing I can do to change the status, seeing as it is permanent, but if you are interested in Lone Soul Matching then we can arrange a separate appointment to discuss this further.”

The mention of the Matching process seemed to be the final nail in the man’s hopeful coffin as he slouched forward, and whatever had been left of his anger quickly dissipated to reveal a shattered, melancholic artist who had just realised that whatever muse he had worshipped was nothing but a lie. You almost felt sorry as you slid the rest of the papers across, complete with a self-help guide and an information pamphlet summarising all services available in the NSRO. The minutes ticked away, but Seonghwa remained frozen in place. It was almost as if with your words, even though standard and practically scripted, you revealed to him a dark truth and the music that ruled the real world. You had uncovered his ears and sung the song of the harsh present, and he could not dare find himself relieved or content with the outcome. He knew that you were only a messenger, a passing face that represented thouSeonghwads of people working for an answer, but you could read a resentment in his expression as he finally raised his head after having hid his face from you. The usual agony, a standard response that you had been trained to not antagonise, and instead to de-escalate. You sat straighter, clasped your hands together and leaned forwards, an unreadable hint of a smile on your lips, somewhat comforting, but alluring to a chilling power that you still retained for as long as you were in this office.

“Shall we make another appointment? Or would you prefer to take some time to process the results and engage with us at a later date?” as you tilted your head a little, you took note of the clouded over, spaced out gaze of the man before you. Even when Seonghwa answered with a confirmation, you were not sure of what exactly he was agreeing to, nor if he was entirely there with you. “Mister Park, would you kindly state your availability?” he shook his head, evidently clearing the haze he was in, and you were met with the mist of two endlessly dark orbs.

His eyes were translating many stories to you, some of which you probably heard on the radio. Love songs, serenades, ballads, rap about love… songs turned into an amorous encyclopaedia a while ago. Even in this, Seonghwa was bound to be ‘just another’. At the same time, your heart hurt for him; perhaps the same as it did for others who came into your lonely office at the end of the corridor, perhaps in some other mysterious way. But anyhow, your expression softened, and you allowed yourself to sympathise with his misery. It was never pleasant to find out that you were not destined to have a life partner, to have that fairy tale happily ever after.

You have seen relationships fall apart before your very eyes after couples who naively thought that requesting the Soulmate Search would simply reveal one anothers’ names instead of a mismatch and a Lone Soul. You have seen familial disappointments, arguments… but at the same time, you witnessed unfiltered joy, liberation, excitement. There was never one answer to fated romantic solitude. You wished you could say that to the very distraught young man sitting in front of you. He was not much different in age to you. He was just like everyone - human. A human faced with intense change. Change that you yourself knew a little too well. In a moment of weakness, though you would like to think it was bravery, you made a tentative proposal, a tiny thin straw to grasp:

“I wholly understand how it must be for you, Mister Park. Which is why I would strongly recommend we meet again. Not for a request or escalation, but for a chat.”

“...a chat? You cannot be serious…” he uttered, head slipping into his hands once more, fingers running through long tresses, eyebrows furrowed.

“I am perfectly serious. Aside from human investigation and data management we do offer other types of services and support, considering our line of work,” while you were trying to be compassionate, the words would not twist themselves, choosing to remain in strict lines and scenarios, as though you were reading from a pre-prepared script. Thankfully, Seonghwa did not seem to mind, far too consumed by grief that you knew would pass eventually.

“And what would that be?”

“Like I said, a chat. Or many chats, depending on what feels most comfortable for you.”

“Are you saying you… are therapists?”

“Thoroughly trained and fully licensed.”

“I will be honest, that is quite impressive. I never knew that about the NSRO,” the hint of amusement was all you needed to know that he was climbing upwards, closer and closer to regaining at least some stability.

“The centre of our business and operations is people.”

“I figured.”

“Then, if this is of interest to you, would you be able to tell me the times you are available or prefer?”

“And about payment-”

“Government service.”

“Oh. Okay fair.”

“Then? Mister Park?” you tilted your head, eyeing the man. While his present demeanour was far from threatening - a quality which you had attributed to him following earlier outbursts, he was not quite a picture of comfort. A little dishevelled here and there, top a little crumpled. Many details reminiscent of a picture hanging on a wall being ever so slightly tilted.

“I have a concert in two days… then a festival next week… oh but that’s later so no trouble…” he was mumbling to himself as he recalled his schedule. It was awe inspiring to see his emotionality dissipate as soon as he talked about work. Your prior worries of how he would handle his career after being declared a Lone Soul disappeared rapidly, and you clicked on your calendar for Monday, feeling Seonghwa would be one unlikely to stall.

“Monday? Hm… four? PM? I have a couple of schedules in the morning but should be free then.”

“Four it is. Fantastic, well, Mister Park, I just booked the appointment for our chat, and the details should have automatically been sent to you via email. You will receive a text message reminder the day before, but should there be any other concerns do not hesitate to contact us.”

“Well I would assume I would be wanting to contact you, rather than the whole Office?” slowly, Seonghwa stood up, giving you one last tired smile.

“Of course. The email would be from me, and my official contact details would be in the signature. Anything else I can assist with?” While professionalism was preventing you from rushing the singer out of the office, your head was already drumming out an incessant, painful beat; it genuinely was far too early in the morning, and you were forced to feel far too many things. 

“Thank you,” the words were quiet, but genuine, and most certainly took you by surprise, “thank you for not leaving me alone.” The morning sunlight seeped into your office, casting a glow over his form. Tall, lean, disposition so familiar to you.

“Not at all. Good luck for the concert, and see you Monday.”

“See you Monday.”

He turned to leave your office, and as soon as the mutely coloured door clicked shut you closed his records, switching to massaging your temples. With one swift turn you were staring out of the windows behind you, wondering if the otherwise traditionally pleasant day appeared different to Seonghwa too. An artist, a dreamer, a lover. A couple of minutes passed, and you noticed him appearing out of the building and ambling across the concrete tiled yard. Another Lone Soul.

He would have been a great soulmate, you concluded, and with a sigh, rose to trudge to the shared kitchen for a cup of something mediocre, wondering if you had been like him when you discovered your own identical fate. No, no you hadn’t been. Passing a few posters that lined the corridors of the NSRO, you chuckled. No, you were not ambitious enough to dedicate yourself to what was essentially fuelled by love. Instead, you looked at the careers page of this exact place. In a few swift clicks, you had applied. In a few numb weeks, you had been interviewed and tested. In a few monotone months, you were no longer a Lone Soul, but a faceless, nameless entity that dissolved in the grey walls, unaffected, unobserved.

It was impossible to tell how many Mondays had passed. Even when Seonghwa decided to stop seeing you for ‘official’ chats, your meetings never exactly stopped, him having made it a habit to find you after your strenuous work hours and his own untameable scheduling. Quiet strolls, occasional bursts of conversation. A stop at a vending machine for beverages here and there. Nothing demanding on either of you. Except perhaps the fact that you decided to take the long way home on Mondays. But that was on you. And you did not mind. And neither did he mind nor care, apparently, considering how his frequent outings could always turn into a scandal, but somehow, it never turned out to be so. Maybe society had finally changed and people learned how to mind their own business, or maybe you really were faceless. At least one person could see you.

While Seonghwa had been surprised to find out that you, too, were a Lone Soul, you could see an immediate change in his approaches. A more relaxed, trusting manner and a sweeter resolve, he had transformed from a man mourning his future to a man who found a kindred spirit and in turn, rediscovered hope. You noted that a glimmer in his eyes did suit him best. He was inquisitive: almost in every session prior to their end he asked about what it was like to be a Lone Soul in the long term, and he quickly familiarised himself with all the relevant vocabulary that floated in the community’s shared lexicon. In part because it was your job and in part because you had been touched by his sense of self that was blooming anew, you told him all and then some. Of course, it was endearing how even though he was perfectly away that he would not experience that standard run of the mill romance nor that exhilarating, somewhat spiritual connection with another, he was still adamant on being a believer in romance.

Romance that went beyond love. Romance could be a good cup of tea drunk on a cool autumn day in one’s favourite cafe. It could be a particularly deep and vulnerable conversation with someone close that brought clarity. It could be a soothing melody trickling into the ears after drowning in cacophonous cityscapes. To Seonghwa, romance was everywhere regardless of whether one had a soulmate or not. To you it was bewildering, interesting, but a little outrageous. You would have agreed to disagree on this, not being one to enjoy dwelling in general, but there was one other thing that set Seonghwa apart from many you knew. He wholeheartedly saw a face in your fog, and the floating somnolence you had been for a number of years now was being kept on its toes, trying to collect all the pieces of yourself you intentionally scattered. You began to realise that sometimes, it might be important to know who you were. 

You had to start simple. You were you, an employee in the NSRO specialising in Lone Souls, from management of the Registry, to reporting and analysis, to direct support in re-identification as a Lone Soul. That much was clear, and that much you could recite to anyone and anytime. Now for other things… you were walking in a park, it was evening, the air was turning cooler and cooler. The city did not sleep, but the buildings appeared fatigued and worn down, much like yourself after a long day. No wonder this was your favourite part of this metropolis. Seonghwa would scold you for giving such vague descriptions and relying on your environment to define you. You looked off to the side to glance at the man himself who was huddling in a jacket - new, at least to you.

You did not like much, but tolerated most things. You tolerated how Seonghwa would debate with you, in fact you could dare say that you indulged in these interactions. You tolerated how he looked at you - kind dark brown eyes, stellar grin, all the attention in the world directed right at you. There was never a doubt that he was listening, caring, remembering. Now that you thought about it, again, you were not saying much about yourself, all of your mentioned tolerances leading back to your companion. Before you could drift any further into your musings, a sudden hum of a tune that you swore you knew from somewhere jolted you back into reality.

“Oh! Look over there?” Following Seonghwa’s hand, you spotted the source of the sound, “beautiful rendition of ‘I Can’t Help Falling in Love’, don’t you think?” You shrugged, simply satisfied with the fact that you were right in your suspicions that the song was indeed one you had heard before.

You followed Seonghwa as he trailed to the small crowd that gathered around the musician. Gracefully the saxophone turned into a live creature, entrancing the audience and inspiring the capable hearts. Blankly, you watched the flying fingertips that faded into shining metal and falling leaves. 

“Isn’t it romantic?” Seonghwa joked, his tone turning playful. 

“I… suppose? It might be?”

“Then tell me what you think of it, I’d love to know,” you turned to find him studying you, softly gleaming. The fairy lights strung up on the surrounding trees made him appear even more graceful than usual, if that was even possible. You could not help but return his blissful amiability with a quick smile of your own, and your best efforts to answer.

“Well… I think his technique is good. And many people are stopping, which suggests that he is objectively good and knows how to engage the audience.”

“Ooh, that’s true. Very interesting. What else?”

“I think that he picked a good time to perform. The park was recently redecorated and the weather this evening is clear. Plenty of walkers. Probably good business.”

“True, true…” he trailed off, seemingly deep in thought. You wonder if your observations were sufficient, “I really do love how you think.”

“What do you mean? Was that sarcastic?” you raise an eyebrow.

“Not at all. Never will be. It is just so unlike how I approach things usually, so I truly marvel at how you do it. In your great way,” not a hint of malice. Only that same curiosity. Those same eyes that saw you. Better than you saw yourself. 

That was what it was - the idea finally came to you. You were blunt, preferred all things to be direct, and any empathy was given similar to how one would prescribe medication. Clinical. With an analytical mind you had no trouble scrutinising individuals through numbers, but then could not ‘count’ on someone, that same analytical and hyper-logical brain preventing you from doing so. You felt for people, you could relate to people, you could guess their emotions, but remained the observer. That was your definition. That was who you were. 

“And um… how do you see it?” Seonghwa nodded at your question, and began.

“I see a soundtrack to many beginnings, middles and endings. I see the musical notes twirling in a waltz with the autumn leaves, the dance floor illuminated by the many fairy lights. I see each mind with their own story to this song, some reliving memories and others crafting a magnificent illusion. Beyond the park, I see residents in those apartment buildings over there,” he pointed at a couple of windows that were illuminated still, and were facing the park, “them looking out at the saxophonist wistfully, mystified by how he knew that this was exactly what they needed to dispel concerns of the earlier hours in the day.”

You two continued to journey on until you made it to a nearby bench, and decided to rest. Sat side by side, arm to arm, you observed the ebbs and flows of other friends, families, lovers who flocked to the musician, only to be swept away by the night and to be replaced by another. 

“Isn’t what you just said all made up?” cautious, you queried.

“Might be, but to me, it is romance. Or rather, the idea of romanticising. I am quite fond of seeing what I cannot physically see, and then inventing more and more on top of it until we have a complete tale.”

“No wonder your songs are such major hits.”

“Oh you flatter me.”

“No, no, you…this, you capture all of this so prettily. Few can.”

“Much like yourself.”

“I do not-”

“Just differently.”

“To you, perhaps, but not to many.”

“What makes you so sure?” he was countering you rapidly.

“Enough Lone Soul meetups. Most of us are like how I am.” pointing at yourself, you emphasised the point. 

“Hm, I should start going to them if there are so many cool personalities there.”

A sharp exhale the upwards twitch was all you could muster before falling completely silent, wanting to pretend that you could see the surroundings like how Seonghwa could. They remained dull and uniform, but the notion that there was this certain someone who, thanks to their past and present, could perceive so beautifully and had the unfathomable kindness to share his interpretations with you was what you were grateful for. Through his eyes, you could see what was around you. Through his eyes, you could finally see yourself. Through his heart, you could be understood.

“Thank you,” your voice barely a murmur, “thank you for not leaving me alone.”

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[lovemeafterhrs]

go-go dancer!

i’m your go-go dancer, credit card romancer!

megumi fushiguro x next door neighbor! reader

author’s note: this the longest fic i’ve written in years LMAO.. been deliberating this concept since september

word count: 10.7k

MDNI! all characters are 18+

major inspo: midnight answer by @/hellokittyheat on AO3, go-go dancer and lolita (demo 4) by LDR.

warnings: megumi is sooo sexually frustrated, masturbation, oral (m + f receiving), unprotected sex, double creampie. reader has nipple piercings

listen along:

when megumi fushiguro moved out of gojo’s house at age twenty-one, he did not expect that he’d wind up in this kind of situation. 

he felt like a pervert, wishing that his new neighbor had something darker than sheer curtains. he hadn’t even met you yet, and he’d already seen far more of your body than he should. still, he couldn’t tear his eyes away from the sight from the first floor next door. it was like you were teasing him, constantly running around the house in nothing but a lace bra and panties. 

he watched curiously as you threw clothes across the room, obviously irritated as you picked out your outfit. you tutted in annoyance at the lack of options, before finally settling on yet another tiny black skirt. 

you considered it to be drab, uninspired even. megumi however, was raising a brow at the tiny scrap of fabric you were shimmying over your hips. he stood in front of his window, clearly entertained as he watched you bend over in front of the mirror. 

you shrugged your shoulders, content with the way it flattered your ass, at least. 

unaware that you had an audience, you rushed to throw on a low-cut top and find your shoes before you ended up being late. 

if you had known, you probably would’ve risked missing your shift just to see the priceless look on your hot neighbor’s face. 

the front door of your apartment slammed shut as you made your way to the car. he could hear every shuffle of your slippers against the pavement, and he couldn’t help but wonder where you disappeared to every friday and saturday night in such a hurry. 

perhaps he’d ask you, someday. 

if he ever got the guts to talk to you in the first place. 

the first time you introduced yourself to him, he had started to question his own judgment when it came to what he knew about you. you were so kind, and more reserved than he expected. your crimson lips lifted into a gentle smile as you spoke your name, asking for his shortly after. the soft, melancholic melody of your voice met his ears, and it sent a jolt of electricity through his spine. 

it was a far cry from anything he could've expected from peeping through your window. he felt guilty for assuming anything of you, especially when you greeted him with a smile and a plate of warm cookies. 

nobara and yuji thought it was the funniest shit they’d ever seen, watching his cheeks burn with shame as he closed the front door with baked goods in hand. 

it hadn’t helped that you were wearing a low-cut tank top and the tiniest shorts he’d ever seen. he’d spent most of his adolescence relatively sheltered, and he’d never paid the women in his life much mind. 

that all changed a few days later when you practically pulled his face into your cleavage, spinning him around in a crushing hug after he pulled your cat out of a tree.

you had become a consistent presence in his life since you first introduced himself to him, and he now found himself regretting taking those cookies out of your hands on that fateful day. a gentle breeze of vanilla wafted through his nostrils in the gentle spring wind as you spun him around in circles enthusiastically. 

something had changed, he just didn’t know what. you were less withdrawn than before, almost like you had grown comfortable in his presence within a few days. his assumption was mostly true, save for one piece of information. 

you had started to like seeing the blush dusting over his cheeks whenever you spoke to him. you liked it a little too much, it seemed. any intention you had to keep to yourself went quickly out the window when you realized you wanted to know as much as you could about him. 

you couldn’t help but try to get him to open up to you, or look at you for just a moment. 

so as of late, you had been playing it up just a little. you could’ve sworn he saw the hearts dancing around in your irises every time his dark eyes met yours. 

him coming to your rescue in a time of need was just the icing on the cake of the situation. 

you were so grateful for his help, so thankful that he’d been there to save the day. your tone was syrupy sweet as you showered him with gratitude, pressing his arm between your breasts as you led him towards his front door. 

he’d fallen into your trap, he just didn’t know it yet. 

“god. she’s really laying it on thick, isn’t she?” nobara and yuji chuckled amongst themselves. yuji shrugged his shoulders, before picking up your purring calico. 

“can’t help that megumi’s oblivious.” was his reply, followed by another less-than-subtle jab to his friend. “that boy couldn’t take a hint if it saved his life.” 

“that’s a fucking understatement.” nobara mumbled under her breath, waving to the pair as they approached the doorstep. “do you think she’s in over her head?”

“dunno.” he whispered back, scratching gently into your cat’s soft fur. 

they watched you thank him profusely with stars shining in your eyes. meanwhile, megumi was trying really hard to keep his eyes from falling to your tits. 

the entire situation resulted in an onslaught of teasing and laughing as soon as they crossed the threshold of his apartment. 

“your face is red.” his peach-haired friend mocked, plopping himself down on megumi’s sofa. 

“thanks for pointing that out, dickhead.” he frowned, causing nobara to burst into another fit of laughter. 

for a man who was known for being oblivious, even he knew what he was falling into. he didn’t really want it to end, either. however, he was worried about the potential escalation if he didn’t keep himself in check. 

perhaps you were just fucking with him, and it would come to an end when you got bored. there wasn’t any way in hell that you were being serious, right? 

he hoped that this moment would be the worst of it, but he’d soon be proven wrong. 

as spring turned to summer, he started to regret moving out in the first place. it was excruciating to watch you sunbathing in the grass, wearing nothing but a tiny red bikini. you had to be doing this on purpose, he realized. he just didn’t have any proof, and it was driving him insane. 

“megumi!” you called out innocently, beckoning him towards you with sunscreen in hand. fuck. he was so screwed. “i need your help!” 

he let out an audible groan as he crossed into your yard, already knowing what you were going to ask him to do. 

“can you get my back?” your question caused megumi to flush all over, and he nodded after a moment of hesitation. of course he’d be willing to help his friend, even if he thought you were doing this purely to drive him to the brink of insanity.  

you rolled over onto your stomach, your ass on display for him as he tried to keep himself focused. the dark haired man squeezed the tube of sunscreen, warming it up with his hands before his fingers began to move over your back with unnecessary caution. 

you let out a small gasp when his hands pressed into your lower back, rubbing the lotion into your soft skin. he could feel your breathing pick up as his hands traveled up your spine. calloused fingers pressed into the knots woven into your shoulders, then gently passed over your shoulder blades. 

he was trying to be respectful, but he couldn’t stop his eyes from darting downward. he had to keep tearing his eyes away, and he sighed in relief when he finally accomplished your request. 

he rose to his feet, trying his best to keep his thoughts innocent as you offered a sweet and honest “thank you!” 

he watched you relax into the plush towel laid out across the grass, and nearly stumbled over the ledge of the concrete on his way back to his front door. he turned himself back around, focusing too closely on the ground to keep himself from tripping. 

he didn’t know how much more of this he could take. 

he had been avoiding treading outside after that moment, petrified that you’d appear next to him to taunt him with more of your innocent teasing. 

he couldn’t bear to look at you, overwhelmed with guilt from every time had imagined your cute little smile while he had his dick in his hand. things had gotten too out of hand too quickly, and he didn’t know how to deal with the feeling of attraction to you blooming deep within his gut. 

the next time he caught sight of you, it was approaching three a.m. on a saturday morning. he looked over the railing of the porch, watching your car pull into the parking space across the street. he raised an eyebrow when you got out of the car, not missing the clicking of your platform heels against the pavement. he’d seen you in a lot of revealing outfits, but this time was.. different. he spotted the subtle shine of glitter all over your skin and nearly started drooling when you stopped in front of the door to take off your shoes. 

you leaned down to remove the buckles and he watched in horror as your skirt crawled up the back of your thighs. the seam of the fabric barely covered the swell of your ass, leaving him at a loss for words.

once again, it felt like you were teasing him to death without even trying. 

he wondered where you had been for the last few hours, as he hadn’t seen you leave. you looked tired, but not intoxicated in any way. 

peculiar. 

still, he didn’t pay it much mind as he walked back inside his apartment. megumi looked up at the clock, and let out a groan as he read the time. 

so much for getting up early tomorrow. he frowned, kicking off his slippers as he crawled into bed. 

he went to bed that night dreaming about you bent over in front of him, skirt pulled up over your hips with his hands fisted into your hair.

his beauty sleep was interrupted by the sound of a lawn mower revving next door, and he let out a groan as he pulled his pillow around his ears. 

of course. he sighed, scrunching his nose in annoyance as he stared up at the clock. 

after a few moments of grumbling, he finally pulled himself out of the comfort of his plush bedding. a loud yawn reverberated off the walls of the hallway as he shuffled his way to the kitchen. 

he glared out the window as he filled up the coffee pot with water, only at that moment realizing that the loud noises from the mower had ceased. 

megumi grimaced when he saw you chatting with his sister on your front lawn. she must have dropped by to see him, and couldn’t keep herself from saying hi to his cute neighbor. she’d undoubtedly tease him for it later, and he closed the curtains with a frown. 

around ten minutes later, he heard a knock on his front door. when he opened it, tsumiki’s face was stretched into a large shit-eating grin. 

“i met your neighbor.” were the first words out of his sister’s mouth, not a ‘hi’ or ‘how are you?’ he let out a big sigh as she continued. “she’s cute. really cute.”

“i know what you’re trying to do, and the answer is no.” 

“seriously? you haven’t had a girlfriend in what, ever? and you're telling me you’re not even going to try?” her questioning earned her a frown, followed by a scoff. 

“that’s none of your business, tsumiki.” 

his eyes widened when his sister looked out the window, and a smirk appeared on her face. it was obvious she’d taken notice of the way that his window lined right up with yours. 

“hmm.” was all she replied with, and she took a seat on the couch. “how’s gojo?” she asked, changing the subject that she knew megumi wouldn’t budge on. 

“he’s fine. reeling with separation anxiety, but he’s fine.” satoru had a horrible case of empty nest syndrome, wondering what he did wrong for his adult, adopted children to leave him alone in his gigantic apartment. “you should go see him, he misses you.” 

“absolutely not. he’ll try to convince me to move back in with him. he needs a distraction or something.” tsumiki groaned at the idea, even though she had the utmost respect for the man who had taken them both in. 

instead, she traveled to the kitchen to heat the meal she’d brought for her brother. 

the duo sat in silence, snacking on leftovers as the tv drawled on in front of them. it was nice to have his sister there, even if she spent most of their time together probing him with uncomfortable questions. 

a few hours later, the eldest had left him alone in his apartment once again. 

he rose to his feet and made his way to the kitchen, looking over at the mountain of dishes piled into the sink. he turned on the faucet and took a moment to mull over his sister’s questions from earlier. dishware clinked against the metal of the sink as he contemplated her words. 

he supposed she had a point. what was he waiting for? he’d never given anyone the time of day, let alone had them consuming his thoughts when they weren’t around. you had a particular knack for making him nervous, and he didn’t know how to kick his habit of becoming a stuttering mess around you. 

the thought of you alone sent a blush over his cheeks. his large hands reached to turn off the running water. he took a few steps closer to the dining room table, and his eyes darted towards the open window. 

he couldn’t keep his curiosity at bay and slowly pulled open his curtains to see what was happening across the way. 

you were sitting on the countertop, phone pressed to your ear as you swung your bare legs back and forth. you were having quite an animated conversation, he could tell. he watched you roll your eyes, contemplating words that he couldn’t hear. 

you paused for a moment and hopped off the counter to open the fridge. he sucked in a breath when you leaned forward, giving him a perfect view of your ass. 

“holy shit,” he muttered, putting his hands over his eyes before pulling his blinds closed. 

he was in over his head, and he didn’t know how to deal with your growing presence in his mind. it was almost like his brain was his own personal prison, trapped in a cell and forced to watch an endless reel of the precarious situations you’d put him in. 

the next few days were absolute torture, and the summer heat had made his already building frustration so much worse. you spent hours of the day in the bright sunshine, working up a sweat as you tended to the lawn. your choice of attire made him drool from his seat at the kitchen table. against his better judgment, he got more comfortable in his chair as you leaned down to pull weeds from the garden. 

he wasn’t the only person who was stopped in their tracks when you bent over. across the street, an older gentleman was being pulled by his dog as he stood mesmerized by the sight. 

you looked over your shoulder, catching sight of his dark hair through the window. you snickered to yourself, arching your back as you dug further into the dirt with your hands.

he was playing right into your hands. 

you wiped a bead of sweat off your brow, rising to your feet a few moments later. you made sure to lean in megumi’s direction as you reached for the bag of lawn debris, making him regret sitting down in the first place.  

the next day, he had the misfortune of going out to grab the mail. he hadn’t made it very far before he caught sight of you, causing him to flush.

large sunglasses framed your face as you pruned the shrubs in front of your door, and you gave megumi a small wave when you spotted him on his porch. 

“good morning!” you chirped, a large pair of trimmers in hand as you pulled your glasses up to look at him. it wasn’t anywhere near morning, but you could tell that he had just woken up. his hair was still messy from hours of rubbing against the pillow, and you gave him a little smile as you admired his sleepy features. 

“morning.” he choked out in reply. he tried to keep his eyes off you as he wandered to the mailbox, but he was failing in every sense of the word. 

“any plans tonight?” you called out to him with a grin as you watched him attempt to sneak back into the house. 

“going out with some friends. do you have plans?” he didn’t know if he wanted to know the answer to his question, but he proceeded to ask it anyway. he shamefully had your weekend routine damn near memorized, but had yet to figure out where you went after her car door slammed shut. 

“nope, just working. i’ll see you later?” that caused him to raise an eyebrow, followed by a couple lazy nods of the head. 

he was too busy contemplating your words to think of a reply. he didn’t really have the chance to, either. he looked at the time, groaning to himself as he walked back inside. 

it was already pushing three in the afternoon by the time he managed to pull himself out of bed to grab the mail in the first place. 

he was going out in an hour, and the apartment was trashed. his stomach grumbled angrily, and he let out a sigh as he walked towards the fridge. a frown fell over his features as he stared at the bottle of chili sauce accompanied by nobara’s forgotten wine. he found himself fortunate enough to find some chicken in the freezer, but the lack of vegetables was proving to be rather disappointing. 

great. he grumbled to himself as he closed the fridge with a slam. the cabinet didn’t have much either, save for a couple packets of noodles. he really needed to go grocery shopping, but hated the grocery store more than anything in the entire world. 

so instead, he reached for a pan and went to work browning the chicken. he was thankful that tsumiki had brought a collection of seasonings for him after his first week living alone. at least he had something to offset the taste of freezer-burnt poultry. 

after a while of glaring at the pan, he was finally getting somewhere. he reached for a pot, and filled it with water. unfortunately, he’d filled it up just a tad too much. he groaned at the puddle on the floor, and dropped the pot on the burner with a defeated look on his face.

a towel was thrown onto the ground with a huff, and he grimaced at the feeling of cold water hitting the plush fabric of his socks. he was soaking wet from the collar of his shirt down, and he still had the puddle to attend to.  

the chicken wasn’t anywhere near done, and now he had to change to top it all off. he turned down the stove a bit, and shuffled to his room in an attempt to find something to wear to the club later that night. 

when he returned to the pan about twenty minutes later in a new set of clothes, the chicken was still nowhere close to being golden brown. with a roll of the eyes, he abandoned his post for a moment to turn on the television. 

even then, it wasn’t very entertaining for him. a few minutes passed, before his curiosity got the better of him. he could hear the slow rhythm of the song that he knew was your favorite from across the way, and couldn’t keep himself from walking towards the window.  the curtains were pulled aside to reveal you dancing along to the music booming through your apartment. 

your hips swayed in tandem with the music, and he watched curiously as you stretched your arms up. he watched you bend down to touch your toes, and he watched your body relax as you stretched out your sore muscles. 

it had appeared he had gotten too distracted by your preparations before your shift, as he had completely forgotten about his dinner still cooking on the other side of the room. 

his eyes darted toward the stove when the smell of something burning wafted through his nostrils, and he ran towards the pan in an attempt to save his dinner. 

thankfully the chicken was only partially charred, and he pulled it away from the heat just in the nick of time. he let out a sigh of relief, which was interrupted by yet another distraction from outside. 

“fushiguro! you better have your fucking pants on!” his head snapped towards the door at the loud booming of his friend’s voice, and the door swung open dramatically to reveal a grinning yuji. 

“you’re early.” megumi commented, voice flat as he switched the burner the pot was on. the shorter man took a step closer to the counter, and his grin widened when he spotted the food cooking on the stove.

“looks like i made it just in time.” he chuckled, before moving towards the small table across from the kitchen. “is something burning?”

“not anymore,” was the only reply yuji got. 

the noodles didn’t take very long, and soon the pair were sitting across from each other with a hot meal in front of them. 

they fell into a comfortable silence that didn’t end up lasting very long. 

not when yuji was always too observant for his own good. the tv drawled on behind them, though it was almost impossible to watch it even if they wanted to. the glare from the window had blocked out almost the entire picture.

it was one of megumi’s pet peeves, and that was what caused yuji to finally break the silence megumi had been previously enjoying. 

“huh.” the tone in yuji’s voice was curious, and his friend’s head snapped up to find him staring out the window. “your blinds are open.” 

“what?” megumi looked confused, even though he shouldn’t be. his blinds were usually closed, especially on sunny days like this one. it was a small detail to pick up on, but he didn’t want his friend to put the rest of the pieces of the puzzle together. he took a sip of his broth, eyeing yuji down as he awaited his response. 

“nothing.” the reply megumi got was halfhearted, barely hiding a snicker as yuji finished off his bowl of noodles. 

his closest companion had taken a good thing and thoroughly ruined it. the silence was now incredibly discomforting to be in, even for just a minute. megumi hurried to scarf down the rest of his meal, before rising from his seat. 

“nobara’s gonna kick our asses if we’re late.” was his excuse for suddenly rising to his feet, not that his friend was dangerously close to figuring out that he’d been watching you through his window for months. there’s no way it could be that reason. 

“chill, i gotta fix my hair first.” yuji grinned, noticing how desperate megumi was to change the subject. “nobara’s not even gonna be ready by the time we get there.” 

“i don’t understand why you couldn’t do that at home.” the taller man huffed, taking a peek out the window the moment he heard footsteps heading toward the bathroom. 

yuji had promised tonight would be fun. megumi hated clubs, but he had been convinced to go out just once. it seemed that his next-door neighbor was heading out for the night as well, if the tiny dress you were wearing was anything to go by. 

an odd choice of attire to be wearing to work, if he’d say so himself. still, he didn’t think about it too hard as he threw on a black sweater and got ready to leave. 

“i don’t understand why we have to go to nobara’s so early. the club doesn’t even open until like eight.” yuji grumbled, reaching for megumi’s phone charger as he settled into the passenger seat. 

“she said we have to go to the mall first. something about needing an outfit.”

“fuck, and you said yes? we’re gonna get stuck there for the next four hours.” another loud groan met his ears as he pulled out of his apartment complex. 

and they were, indeed, stuck at the mall for nearly four hours. megumi’s car was stuffed to the brim with shopping bags by the time they were done, and they still weren’t even ready to head out for the night. 

a quick pit stop to kugisaki’s was entirely necessary, as protested by the woman herself. the trio shuffled boxes and bags to her apartment, grumbling the entire time as they braved the treacherous walk up the stairs. 

yuji supposed it was only fair to start the party there. he was already raiding her liquor cabinet before he proposed the idea to the rest of his team. 

the words left his lips with a smirk, and he waved around the bottle of cheap booze in his hand to emphasize his point. the same smirk fell over nobara’s features, and she nodded enthusiastically as she reached for two shot glasses. 

megumi found himself wishing he could participate, cursing himself for saying he’d be the designated driver. his mind was plagued with thoughts of you, and a drink would’ve probably been able to help him forget that. 

still, he let the pair have their fun. a small chuckle left his lips as he watched them grimace at the burn of the liquor. nobara gave him a goofy smile, followed by a thumbs up as she ran to her bedroom to change her clothes.

finally, at about eight forty-five, the trio made their way to megumi’s black buick. the sun had already set far into the sky, and megumi let out another sigh as he turned on the engine. 

the car ride down to the bar was filled with loud singing from yuji and irritated grumbles from nobara as she hurried to change the radio station. they struggled to find parking, resulting in them walking through residential streets to get to their destination. he hadn’t expected it to be so busy, but they found themselves weaving through crowds of people to even find a table. 

the music was far too loud for his liking, and pinks and purples shined through his vision as he finally looked up toward the bar. something had caught the attention of countless patrons, who were tripping over each other with credit cards in hand. 

upon closer inspection, he began to understand what everyone was fussing over. the first thing he saw was your tattoo, which he recognized immediately. as his gaze traveled up your long legs, he couldn’t hide the shock written over his features. 

he couldn’t believe what he was seeing. 

in a moment, it felt like you were the only dancer scattered across the stage. 

he sat, frozen in his seat as he watched the men around him foam at the mouth as they scrambled to order shot after shot. hundreds of people filled the room, but his eyes kept falling back on you. dozens of strangers were ogling your figure, watching your tits bounce with every sway of your hips. 

you seemed to be enjoying the attention, basking in the fluorescent lights as you continued to move in rhythmatic circles. you kept moving along to the beat of the music, a sultry smile on your lips as suits and ties bowed at your feet. you had a bottle in hand, heels clicking against the wood of the bar as you danced around glasses with ease. 

the expensive tequila in your hand was merely a prop, but it didn’t keep the patrons around him from ordering round after round in an attempt to impress you. a manicured hand came up to fondle one of your breasts teasingly in rhythm with the words of the song playing. 

his jaw dropped when the light reflected against the metal of your nipple piercings, clearly visible through the thin fabric of your dress. he fought the urge to put his head in his hands, but he couldn’t tear his eyes away from the sight in front of him. 

you were obviously a lot more interesting than he originally thought you were.  

“oh, that’s your neighbor.” nobara confirmed his suspicions, a smirk on her face as she watched you drop your ass down to the floor. “you should go see if she’ll give you a private dance or something.” 

“nobara!” that caught his attention, and his head whipped around to grimace at her. 

“what? i’m just saying. it’s obvious you have a thing for her.” ever the instigator, the red-haired woman was not going to back down. yuji nodded along with his friend’s words, and he looked at the pair disappointed. 

megumi didn't move an inch for your entire set, utterly mystified as he watched you dance around the bar. it felt almost as though the stage was meant just for you, pedestaled above the wide varieties of expensive liquor. 

he only snapped to reality when he watched you leave the stage, and he caught your head of hair turning out the back door. yuji hit his shoulder rather abruptly, encouraging him to do the one thing he didn’t want to do. 

he took a deep breath and followed you outside. he turned the corner into the nearby alleyway and found you hiding between couples pressed against the side of the building. he took a few steps closer, recognizing the outfit he’d watched you leave the house in. 

he realized how little he knew about you when he watched you light up a cigarette, leaning against the wall with a long exhale. you looked over at him then, dark eyeshadow framing your eyes as they flashed with recognition. your cheeks turned pink, and you bit your lip with a roll of your eyes. 

your cover was blown. there was no point in keeping up the innocent act now.

it wasn’t often that you told people about your weekend plans, and that was for good reason. you just hoped he wouldn’t act like many other people have before.  

“hey, megumi.” you started casually, flicking ash onto the concrete. 

“hey. wasn’t expecting to see you here,” was his reply. megumi wasn’t a man of many words anyway, but you had shocked him into almost complete silence. he was struggling to get every other syllable out of his mouth, but he couldn’t deny how curious he was about you. 

“ha, i get that a lot. are you having fun?” you looked almost completely unphased, besides the light dusting of rose dusting your cheeks. 

“you could say that. you look good.” his words caused your dark lips to curl into a small smirk. 

“thank you, you’re not so bad yourself.” you replied to him in a breathy tone. now, you were definitely doing it on purpose. you just couldn’t help yourself when he looked so handsome with blushing cheeks. 

“you think so?” he was looking a little sheepish, barely able to keep his thoughts innocent with you flirting so blatantly. 

“i know so.” your reply sent a flush to his poor, overwhelmed face. he watched you lean down, effortlessly putting out the cigarette on the bottom of your heel as you turned to walk back into the club. 

“enjoy the show.” you mused, brushing his shoulder lightly as you passed him. 

and he did enjoy every moment, relishing every sway of your hips until yuji was begging him to take them home. he hadn’t had a drop of alcohol the entire night, but he felt more dizzy walking out of the doors of the club than he did after drinking half a bottle of cheap liquor. 

nobara was too buzzed to notice the longing in megumi’s eyes as they walked back to the car, but yuji wasn’t. he held back a laugh as he wobbled his way down the sidewalk next to his usually stoic friend. 

traffic wasn’t terrible, thank god. nobara didn’t have enough energy left to fight about music choices, allowing yuji to blast whatever garbage he wanted as they drove down the highway. 

after a quick detour to nobara’s apartment complex, he finally managed to trudge his way towards the warmth of his bed. unfortunately for him, every parking spot around the block was taken. he groaned, pulling into the only available space and turning off his car with a huff. 

he was almost in the clear.

the only thing that stood in his way was a treacherous walk to his front door. 

with yuji only two doors down, it made getting home in one piece a whole lot easier. that however, would not keep yuji from prodding him for information, just like his sister would. they were so similar sometimes that it scared him. he knew the look in his friend’s eyes before the words even left his mouth. 

“you’re into her.” megumi was hit with boundless accusations as they walked through the damp grass, starting with that one. 

“no, i’m not.” he countered, choosing denial as his tactic for the situation. 

“yes, you are. you’ve got a major resting bitch face, and i didn’t see it once. you were staring at her like a doofus the entire night.” now that he was pointing it out, megumi supposed it was true. he’d been less angry recently, more sexually frustrated than anything else.  

“that doesn’t mean shit, yuji.” he bit back, not trying to have this conversation ever. he wasn’t looking to admit anything close to liking you, choosing to ignore the fact that he couldn’t stop thinking about you even now. 

“really? so you’re telling me you don’t enjoy the fact that she’s always around, shoving her cleavage in your face?” yuji had yet another point. this one earned a rather large scowl. 

“that was one time.” 

“i bet if you asked nicely, she’d do it again.” his friend smirked as he reached his doorstep, and the angry expression made its way back to megumi’s features. 

“shut up.” he mumbled, throwing yuji the middle finger as he turned away to head home. 

it was already far too late for his liking, and he retreated to the warmth of his bedroom within moments of opening the front door. he needed to clear his mind of any and all obstacles that would prevent a good night’s sleep, including the movement of your tits that was now burnt into his memory. 

his head hit the pillow, hoping he’d get a shred of sleep before someone managed to ruin it.  

the clock read just after three a.m. by the time he reached for his phone, as he had been tossing and turning in bed for the last three hours. he rose to his feet, scanning the mess he had left in his room before heading to the club. 

he wondered if his friend was still awake. maybe he’d be willing to help him clean up the gigantic mess he left earlier. 

much to his surprise, yuji responded to his text rather quickly. but that still left one glaringly large problem. 

megumi frowned, piling his clothes into a basket as he made his way to the complex’s shared laundry room. he was so frustrated that nothing was helping, and he couldn’t forget about the metal pierced through his neighbor’s tits. he groaned, turning the corner when he heard the loud rumbling of the washing machine. 

he wondered who was up so late on a saturday doing laundry, but he supposed that he couldn’t judge. he nearly fell over when he saw who was sitting on top of the spinning machine. 

he had to be dreaming.

your eyes were pressed closed, soft gasps leaving your mouth as the laundry rumbled underneath you. a dirty novel was long disregarded next to you, and he wondered what you were thinking about. you let out a low whine as you shifted your hips, lips swollen from biting them in an attempt to keep quiet. 

you were having a hard time keeping your balance over the rumbling machine, struggling to keep your moans hushed as you barrelled closer and closer to release. he watched your hands travel underneath your shorts, reaching for your neglected clit.  

he nearly jumped out of his skin when his basket made contact with the wall, and your eyes shot open at the sound. you stared at him, equally horrified and aroused as he stood cemented in the doorway. 

the pair shared a moment of excruciating silence. your lips parted to speak, but the words died in your throat as you took in his shocked expression. 

before you could address the situation, megumi started to feel his pants getting a little tight. he turned on his heel abruptly, cheeks burning as he shuffled his way back to the apartment. 

the phone in his pocket chimed, and he typed out a rushed response to yuji as he swung his front door open. he couldn’t have his best friend seeing him in such an embarrassing state. 

he had tried to forget your lewd expression, but he couldn’t get the tent in his pants to go down no matter how much he tried. 

guilt burned at his insides as he freed himself from the confines of his pants. his length slapped against his torso, practically begging for some attention. 

he didn’t know how to handle what he had just witnessed. carnal need had started to crawl it’s way up into his chest, and his eyes fluttered closed as he tried to get comfortable on his bed. 

megumi hissed as his hand pressed against the head of his dick, which was already hot to the touch and oozing from the tip. he imagined your tongue running across his shaft, plush lips wrapping around him. he began to rock his hips with the movement of his hand, daydreaming about fucking into your warm mouth. he’d fallen victim to his desire, letting small gasps leave his lips with every stroke of his hips. 

he let out a low growl as he heard a knock on the door, interrupting the movement of his hand. he pulled his sweats back up over his hips, still sporting a gigantic erection as he swung the door open. 

“yuji i told you that you need to fuck off for like twenty minutes, i swear to god-“  his words came to an abrupt halt as he realized who was at the door, and you smirked as your eyes scanned him up and down. 

“hey, neighbor. are you going to invite me inside?” you asked, taking notice of the rather blatant tent in his pants. 

“uh… i guess. i’m kind of in the middle of something-” he flushed, trying to save some semblance of decency. his dick throbbed as you leaned towards him, giving him a full view of your cleavage. 

“i can tell.” he cursed inwardly at your words, trying to ignore the gigantic smirk across your face. “do you need some help?” 

“w-what?” he choked out, the tips of his ears burning. he wasn’t expecting you to be so forward.

“there’s no need to be coy, megumi. i’ve seen you watching me through your window.” you snickered and leaned against the doorframe. 

you’ve got to be fucking kidding. he let out a groan. of course you’d seen him, now you were never going to let him live it down. 

“what were you thinking about?” you continued, watching him deflate in front of you. your curiosity had gotten the better of you, and you took a step closer to him as he struggled to get out his reply. 

“nothing.” 

“doesn’t look like nothing.” you countered, raising a brow as you looked him up and down once again. “were you thinking about me?”

“no.” he grumbled, closing his eyes in frustration. he was trying to keep his eyes off of you, but you were making it damn near impossible. the entire situation was your fault, and now you were at his door making it even worse. 

“are you sure about that?” 

he was convinced you were just teasing him. you couldn’t possibly be serious, could you? 

“you’re doing this on purpose.” he choked out, still not looking at you. he was trying to ignore the loud thumping of his heart in his chest with every word that came from your mouth. 

“doing what on purpose?” your question was sweet and sugary, laced in feigned innocence as you continued. his eyes opened, offering you a glare that didn’t appear too genuine. 

“i’m just trying to help.” you took a step closer to him, and he faltered for a moment. 

“you’re serious?” he asked, and his cheeks burned as he looked down at you. 

“why wouldn’t i be?” was your retort, and he let out the breath he didn’t know he was holding in. 

“what are you waiting for, then?” 

you raised a brow at his response, curious as to where the sudden determination had come from. the nervous look on his features gave you pause for a moment, and you supposed you should probably take it easy on him. 

“you’re quite confident all of a sudden, aren’t you?” you mused, lips inching towards his. “i wonder if you’ll be able to keep up.”

he didn’t bother to give you a response, only a huff of annoyance as he brought you in for a harsh kiss. one arm wrapped around his neck and the other trailed down to palm him through the thin fabric of his sweatpants. you felt him let out a hiss against your lips at the feeling of your fingers wrapping around his length. 

his tongue explored your mouth as you pulled him towards the couch, and you pushed him down lightly as you leaned over him with a smirk. he let out a groan when you sat down on his lap, and you let out a laugh as you brought his lips back to yours. 

the thin fabric of your shorts rubbed against his hard length as you pulled him closer, and you could feel his breathing pick up pace underneath you. your hips slowly began to grind against his, and your efforts earned you a sharp exhale between his kisses.  

his lips didn’t leave yours until he was out of breath. he huffed against your lips as your hands began to wander underneath the soft fabric of his sweater. 

you pulled away to look at the mess you made of him, content with the dazed look painted across his face. his eyes were too focused on your tits spilling out of your shirt to notice that you were pulling his up and over his head. the black sweater was thrown to the floor in haste, and you brought a kiss to each of his flushed cheeks. 

“you’re so cute.” you mumbled dreamily, almost too quiet for him to hear. he offered you a crinkle of his nose in return for your teasing. 

“am not.” the protest was emphasized by a raise of the brow, and he pulled the neckline of your tank-top down to free your breasts. he let out a groan at the sight, bringing one hand up to squeeze the soft flesh in front of him. 

“sure. whatever you say..” you rolled your eyes at his behavior, letting him fondle your chest curiously. long and delicate fingers began to squeeze and grope at your skin. 

an idea crossed your mind as his hands rubbed against the barbells adorning your nipples. your lips met the skin of his neck, and he shivered at the feeling of your tongue swiping over the soft flesh. soft kisses began to travel lower and lower, causing his eyes to widen. 

his hands left your skin when he felt you pulling away, not expecting for you to drop to your knees in front of him. another soft kiss was pressed to his happy trail as you looked up at him with a teasing smile. a shock of electricity shot through his spine when he felt you pulling down the elastic of his sweatpants. 

his dick sprang free in front of your face, and you took a moment to marvel at the sight in front of you. while average in size, his girth was rather impressive. you could feel yourself salivating as one of your fingers ran along the tip. you brought that same finger to your lips, humming appreciatively at the sight before wrapping your hand around the base. 

if you weren’t so absorbed in your own little world, you would’ve seen the shocked expression spreading over megumi’s flushed features. he felt your hand pass from base to tip a couple times, and he let out a groan. that caught your attention, and you met his stormy blue irises with a pout on your lips. 

“you okay up there, ‘gumi?” you teased, running your hand up and down his shaft gently as your warm breath fanned against his skin. 

“sorry i’ve just.. never done this before.” he replied quietly, trying to level his breathing as he averted his eyes from you. 

“that’s okay, just let me know if it’s too much.” your tone was gentle and kind, much like the first time you two met. his eyes met yours again, confusion written all over his features. 

“what do you- oh…” he gasped out, and a shiver ran down his spine as he felt your lips wrapping around the tip of his dick. he was trying not to keel over, knuckles turning white from his harsh grip on the side of the couch. obscene slurping noises filled his ears, and he looked down to find your eyes staring right back at him. 

he had to avert his eyes to keep himself from cumming right then and there, but his eyes kept falling back to you no matter how much he tried. 

you wanted him to see it all, feel it all. 

he didn’t know if he’d be able to last if you kept it up. a hand fell over his eyes in an attempt to keep himself from looking, but one lick of your tongue along the underside of his dick was enough to have him peeking through his fingers. 

you look so cute with your mouth full, he mused. it was embarrassing how quickly he was coming undone in the wetness of your mouth, and he was trying not to let out a whine as you swallowed down more of his shaft. 

something deep inside of him told him not to let it end here, and he gently tapped your cheeks with a loud and whiny huff. you released your lips with a pop, saliva dripping from your lips as you pulled away. 

“everything okay?” you asked, concern lacing your features as you held onto his thighs. 

“yeah.. just need..” a loud groan reverberated off the walls of his living room as you bit down on the skin of his thigh. 

“just need.. what?” you teased, batting your big doe eyes up at him from your position on the floor. “tell me what you want, ‘gumi.” 

“i want you. i need you.” he replied breathlessly, pulling you in for a sloppy, desperate kiss. he grabbed your hips harshly so he could pull you back onto the couch. 

you could feel his toned chest against yours as he leaned over you. he swallowed hard, contemplating his next words. 

“show me how to make you cum.” the words were more akin to a demand than a plea, but you couldn’t deny his curiosity. his hands reached for your shorts, pulling them to your ankles with ease. “wanna hear you scream.” 

your eyes widened, and you gave him a nod as you reached for one of his hands. you led his fingers down to your panties at an excruciatingly slow pace, and his hand left yours to take matters into his own hands. he pulled them off with a huff, staring into your eyes as he tested the waters. 

he raised a brow at you, reaching to pull your thighs apart as he sat between them. “you’re just teasing me now.” he grumbled at your antics, taking note of your actions from earlier as he leaned down to run his tongue along your slick folds. he lapped up your juices eagerly, passing over your clit repeatedly as he explored between your legs. 

he got more comfortable between your thighs, palming the flesh of your ass tightly and spreading your legs further apart. a soft moan left your lips when his tongue settled on your clit. he urged forward, desperate to have you whining and begging in his hold. 

a tempo was found with relative ease, and he grinned into the flesh of your thighs as you bucked your hips against him. 

a soft hum left his lips in approval when he heard you gasping underneath him. he supposed he had to be doing something right, considering how you were reacting to every swipe of his wet tongue. 

he continued his ministrations, now more confident in his ability to please you. a long finger prodded at your entrance curiously, feeling you dripping with desire from just a few minutes underneath him. 

gasps quickly turned into moans as one of his long digits sank into your plush walls. the sound made him look up to find you flushed from the neck up. 

he wanted to see just how far he could take it. 

his middle finger joined his index, and he developed a slow rhythm that had you shaking within minutes. every positive response was only inticicing him further, and his eyes glazed over in determination as the pads of his fingers passed over your g-spot. 

you had to admit, he was a quick learner. 

the moment that he heard the first pitched “fuck.” leave your mouth, he became determined to hear it again and again. 

he grinned against your clit as he felt your muscles clenching around his fingers. loud moans met his ears as he picked up the pace. he had you seeing stars far too quickly, and he had no intention of letting up until you were begging him to stop. 

the kitten licks to your cunt had become harsh sucking motions, and his tongue swirled around your clit with a certain precision that had your toes curling and your legs shaking. 

you let out a broken cry as you came on his fingers, but he still hadn’t stopped the motion of his tongue. he drank up every whine that left your mouth as you shook with overstimulation. 

he was just teasing you now, relishing in the way your thighs clenched around his head as you gasped and writhed under him. you supposed it was his revenge for the months of teasing, and you found yourself relenting as you pulled his lips away from your abused clit. 

“what? too much for you?” he smirked, and you lowered your eyes at him as you pushed him back against the couch. 

“not even close.” as soon as he heard the tone of your reply, he knew he was in for trouble. his eyes widened as you pulled yourself into his lap, straddling his hips as you leaned in to bring your lips to his. he groaned into the kiss as he felt his length rubbing against the soft skin of your stomach. 

your lips left his for only a moment to test his resolve even further.

“have you had enough yet?” you teased, causing him to wrap his hands around your hips. your lips pulled into a smirk as you pulled yourself up and wrapped one hand around his dick. 

he let out a groan when he felt the tip rubbing against your wet folds, which turned into a whine when his dick made contract with your entrance. shaky fingers dug into the flesh of your ass as you eased down on his length. 

“holy fuck.” he gasped out, earning a smirk from you. he felt you wiggle your hips against him, and he could feel every muscle in his body crying out for release as he finally bottomed out inside of you. 

“what? too much for you?” you found yourself parroting his response from earlier. something darkened in his eyes the moment that the words left your mouth. 

his grip on your ass tightened, and you watched the muscles in his arms strain as he pulled your hips up. you wrapped your hands around his neck as he pushed you back down. a shaky gasp left your mouth as you started to rock your hips in tandem with the movement of his hands. 

manicured nails scraped against the skin of his shoulders with every stroke of his hips. your hands fell to his chest, pushing back against him in an effort to rut yourself in time with his movements. he pressed forward, capturing your lips with his in the midst of your passionate embrace. his kisses began to travel down to your neck, turning into bites over the course of a few minutes. his breath caught in his throat when he felt your walls squeezing him, and he couldn’t help but try to elicit more reactions from you.

you let out a sharp gasp when he started sucking on your skin, leaving bruises growing in his wake. he pulled away a few moments later, taking in every small detail of your blushing face.

your lips were swollen once again, matching the same shade from earlier. this time, he was the reason you were struggling to keep yourself quiet. he couldn’t get enough of it. 

it was growing impossible for him to keep himself composed with your tits bouncing in his face every time you moved your hips. in an effort to keep the moans from spilling from his mouth, his lips wrapped around one of your perky nipples as he rocked against you. his tongue lapped against the metal piercing, shortly followed by a gentle bite. 

his efforts earned him a pitched moan, and he felt the muscles in your thighs twitching as he held onto them tightly. the couch creaked with every harsh thrust, mixing with the moans that were reverberating off the walls of the apartment. he was sure he’d get a noise complaint in the mail the next day, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. 

he paused when he felt your hips falter, raising a brow as he watched you struggle to keep up with the movement of his hips. 

“and you were worried that i wouldn’t be able to keep up.” it was almost like megumi was gloating, but you couldn’t be too mad at him. after all, you loved the way his dick was hitting deep inside of you. the movement of his hips came to a halt, causing you to let out a whine as the head of his dick brushed against your g-spot. 

“shut up and fuck me, megumi.” you croaked out, lowering your eyes at him in an effort to get him to do something, anything.  

in an instant, his strong arms were pulling you from his lap. your mouth opened to protest, but the words never got the chance to leave your mouth. all it took was your back hitting the cushion of the couch to hush any complaints from you.  

he smirked at your silence, hiking one of your legs over the side of the couch and holding onto the other by the crook of the knee. he spread you apart once again, and slid himself back inside of you with a long sigh. the new position made your eyes resemble saucers, and you let out a cry as he started moving his hips again. every thrust pressed hard against your g-spot, and you were seeing stars behind your eyelids every time your eyes fell shut. 

“look at me.” he demanded, grabbing onto your chin and pulling it up towards him. your eyes snapped open, meeting his azure ones. he felt you clench again, causing his smirk to turn into a cheshire grin as he picked up the pace of his hips. 

every thrust was hitting so deep inside of you, and you could hear the harsh sound of skin slapping reverberating off the walls. you were so close to the edge – barely holding on as he continued to push himself into the dripping wetness between your legs. 

the muscles in his arm strained once again, and he pushed your knee up further towards your head. his grip on the inside of your knee tightened, signaling that he was just as close to release as you were. his free hand found its way to your clit, and you let out another loud whine.  

that was ultimately your undoing, and all sense of decency went out the window as you scratched into the skin of his back. you brought him in for a harsh kiss, and he let out a loud groan against your lips as you tightened around him. 

you came so hard that you felt dizzy, still holding onto the kiss for a moment longer. the feeling of your insides constricting on him made it almost impossible for him to pull out, and he was so distracted that the thought didn’t even cross his mind. 

well, not until after you felt thick ropes of his cum filling you with warmth. 

“fuck.” you both said at the same time, eyes wide as you shared a moment of realization. you both silently came to the conclusion that it would be a problem for tomorrow, and he pressed a kiss to your cheek as he finally slowed the movement of his hips. 

his grip on your thighs loosened for a moment, and he looked down on you softly. he took a minute to catch his breath, eyes darting over the growing bruises all over your skin. 

“c’mon, the couch is uncomfortable.” he grumbled, lifting you up by the thighs and taking you to his bedroom. you let out a giggle as he carried you towards the bed, and your head hit the pillow with a soft plop. a smile came over your features as you pulled him down with you. his body pressed against yours for a moment, before he moved to settle behind you. 

large, veiny hands made their way around your midsection. he held you close, pressing his back to yours and running soft kisses along your shoulder. you melted into his touch, offering him a pleased hum as you settled into the mattress. 

you looked back at him adoringly, gaze softening even further as his hair tickled your forehead. kisses turned to bites once again, and you let out a small laugh when you felt his hard length pressing against you. 

“sorry.” he grumbled, and you looked at him curiously. you turned around to face him with a soft grin plastered over your cheeks. 

“don’t be sorry. i just think it’s cute.” you replied, pressing a kiss to his temple as you pulled him closer. 

“not cute.” he corrected, and you rolled your eyes. you pulled one of your legs over his hips, giving him a knowing look. he felt his dick rubbing up against your entrance, still dripping with his cum. 

you offered him a gentle kiss as you slid your folds against the tip, before slowly pressing him inside. 

“fuck. i don’t think i’ll ever get tired of that.” he gasped out, holding onto your hips as you slowly began to rock against him. you offered him a shaky laugh in reply to his hushed words. 

the bed began to creak underneath you, and his hips started moving along with yours. it wasn’t long before the bed frame was smacking against the wall, guaranteeing a complaint from the neighbors the next day. 

he didn’t have much concern for it in the moment, too occupied with the way that you were pulsing around him. his large, veiny hands found purchase fondling your tits, squeezing and rubbing the supple flesh with his calloused fingers. 

you weren’t going to last very long if he kept it up like this. especially with one of his hands leaving your tits to run across your clit. 

“fuck, you feel so good.” his deep, gravely admission met your ears as his head fell against your shoulder. 

you squeezed around him again, basking in the meticulous rhythm of his hips. that caused him to bite down on your shoulder as a warning. 

“can’t be doing that.” he huffed against your skin. an unexpected groan left his lips when he felt you clenching him again. “fuck, i’m gonna—” 

one particularly harsh thrust had you coming undone right along with him, and you let out another pitched whine as his fingers continued to circle around your clit. 

you rode out your high together, before his movements finally came to a halt. 

you felt him relaxing into your chest with his face pressed between your breasts. finally worn out and more than content, megumi felt his heartbeat slowing as the smell of your perfume wafted through his nostrils. his eyes began to flutter closed, comforted by the warmth of your skin. 

you were exhausted, but you couldn’t keep the smile off your features as you wrapped your arms around him. your eyes fell shut, listening to the slow drum of his heart as if it was a lullaby meant just for you. 

megumi let out a loud yawn, and opened his eyes. to his disappointment, the space on the bed next to him was empty. he could still smell your perfume wafting through the air. 

a small frown settled over his features as his feet met the cold floor of the hallway, but he froze in his tracks when he saw you making coffee in the kitchen. 

“what’s with the frown? did you think i left without saying goodbye?” you smirked, looking him up and down as you leaned against the kitchen counter. 

you made a fucking mess of him, you could tell. his head of normally messy hair was sticking up in all kinds of places, and it was the worst case of bed-head you’d ever seen. your lips pulled into a smile as your gaze fell down to his neck, admiring the love bites scattered across his clavicle. 

he took a step closer to you, rolling his eyes as he offered his reply. “i was hoping you didn’t. i wasn’t done with you yet.” 

“oh, yeah? can’t get enough?” you snickered and pulled him closer to you. he puffed out his cheeks at your playful words. his cheeks were still flushed, and you loved how responsive he was to your teasing. 

you were enjoying the sight in front of you when the front door opened, revealing a very smug yuji. 

“i fucking knew it!” he yelled, pointing a finger at his friend in an accusatory manner. the taller man frowned, shutting the door in his face before turning back to you with a sheepish smile.

[pomefioredove]

HELLO DOVE!!! This is the tired anon from the other day I’m not tired anymore lmao 😄❤️

If you’re still doing requests for your event, could do you Trey with "Are you cake? 'Cause I want a piece of that”? Hehe 💕 I love all the fics you’ve written for the event!!

one more trey one!! I got u

summary: "are you cake? cause I want a piece of that" type of post: short fic characters: trey additional info: romantic, reader is gender neutral, reader is not specified to be yuu

"That line was the worst one yet," Ace grimaces.

The expression on his face really says it all.

Trey sighs, slumping against the lounge couch. Hours of practice, and he has nothing to show for it.

"C'mon, chin up!" Cater says, scrolling through another list of pick-up lines. "I know you've got it in you. You're just nervous."

Ace snickers, and Deuce elbows him in the ribs.

"I still don't see what was wrong with my suggestion," Riddle mutters into his cup of tea.

"Your suggestion was about two hundreds years outdated,"

"Floriography is a practical and subtle approach to courtship!"

Trey sighs. Not a single one of his dormmates seems to know a thing about dating, let alone flirting. This is hopeless.

He'll never have the guts to approach you like this.

Luckily (or unluckily), he doesn't have to.

The sound of footsteps pulls everyone's attentions to the doorway. Even Riddle stops, mid-argument, to sit back down like a proper gentleman.

"They're here," Cater says. "Good luck, buddy."

"What?" Trey hisses back, but it's too late. The rest of the dorm ups and leaves, taking their quiet bickering with them.

Then, it's just you. "Hey. Ace said there was an emergency,"

Trey sighs. Of course. He should have expected something like this...

"No, no emergency. They just... got over-excited,"

Sure. We'll go with that. Oh, just kill him now.

"Oh. Then... should I...?" you ask, pointing toward the door.

A sharp, fast rush of adrenaline forces Trey to sit back up. This is his chance- as much as he hates to admit it. If not now, then when?

"W-wait," he says. "...Are you cake? ...'Cause I want a piece of that."

Why did that have to be the only line he remembered?

And, more importantly, why did he go with it?

You stare. Trey stares back. He'll never understand how you manage to make him so nervous and unsure of himself, but he's suddenly mortified.

Then, much to his relief, you giggle.

"Oh, I'm sorry, that was just..." You sigh. "Please tell me you use baking-themed ones all the time?"

Trey shakes his head. "...No. Just for you,"

"I'm flattered, then,"

Thank the Sevens. He'll have to thank Cater for that line after you leave... and possibly get Ace back for pulling this in the first place.

He clears his throat, feeling a little more comfortable now that he's sure you are, as well.

"I mean... we actually do have cake... if you'd like some,"

You smile. "...Yeah, sure, I'd like that,"

[inkdrinkerworld]

Couls iequest a Soft dom! dealer! Remus x Autistic! Reader wher Rem has a set of rules for r to keep her safe but she always forgets them and one of the big ones is no getting high when he's not there to look after her, but when they are at a party rem goes off with a customer and leaves a brownie behind and R eats the brownie because she's hungry but by the time rem gets back shes really high because the brownie was really strong and if she had waited for rem to get back he would have only let her have half of it because she can end up having a meltdown from overestimulation much quicker when she gets too high.

I read like every dealer! Remus fic you've written and I just have to say I'm OBSESSED Like ridiculously obsessed

“Sit pretty dovey. I’ll be back soon.” Remus kisses your forehead and is off.

You’re at another party, Remus has a lot of customers at these things.

You sit with your legs crossed under you, iPad on your lap as you play a game waiting on Remus.

It’s not that you’re trying to be rude to whoever’s party this is. You just get bored of it, there’s only so much drinking and dancing you can do before it gets boring.

Plus, Remus has rules in place. They help you stave off overstimulation and shutdowns so you try not to stray from the rules.

He’s left a brownie beside you, wrapped in the pretty yellow bags he lets you choose every time he needs new ones.

Remus had promised you an edible, this seems like yours; decorated with hardened melted chocolate on the top of it to give it a nice crunch when you bite into it.

Your mouth waters a bit. Then you remember the biggest rule you have- ‘No getting high when he’s not around.’

It’s a good rule, one that keeps you from getting too overwhelmed. From being pressured into having too much. You love this rule. Remus loves this rule- he gets to help you turn off your brain for a little in a safe way.

You don’t forgo the rule on purpose.

You just intended to have a little piece, just a nibble. It’s like you blink and suddenly the brownie is finished and your head is foggy.

Your mouth feels stuffed up with cotton, your eyes low and burning as you sit on the sofa.

You can feel every stitch of your top rubbing against your skin, the waistband of your shorts suddenly cutting into you in a way that’s too much.

You swear you can feel the blood rushing through your body and it’s too much.

You don’t remember where you are, the party blurring and blending into just another thing that’s overstimulating you.

Remus comes just as you begin to panic. “Hey,” he tips your chin up, frowning when he notices the dilation of your pupils.

“I had the brownie.” You say swiftly, shame burning your chest when Remus tuts. “M’sorry.”

“Dovey,” he says softly, reprimanding but not much. Not when you’re like this. “This one was stronger. You were only supposed to have half.”

You bite your lip, tears filling your eyes.

“Hey, you’re not in trouble.” Remus isn’t cruel. “Let’s just work on the comedown.”

You let Remus guide you outside to his car. “Here,” he opens the door and passes you your tumbler of water. Remus watches you take a couple slow sips, then he reaches in the backseat for a sweater. “Something softer, dove.”

He doesn’t want to be tugging you out of your t-shirt in the open like this, but you might start picking at your skin and he doesn’t want that more.

In the sweater, you relax a little. Your eyes aren’t as wild now, Remus taps your tumbler when you stop sipping.

“Three more.” You take three slow sips, Remus leans against the car watching you arms crossed over his chest.

“How do you feel now?”

You sigh, “Better. I’m sorry.” Your fingers twitch against your cup.

Remus nods, opening his arms and you shuffle right into them. “C’mere, my love.”

His hands hold onto your hip and the back of your head.

“If you weren’t so high I’d spank you.” Remus chuckles when you stiffen up. “No more rule breaking.”

“I won’t Remmy,” you whine, Remus pulls back a smile playing on his lips.

“I know you won’t, dove.” He tips your chin up, lips ghosting over yours. “Ready to go back or leave?”

You hum, pressing your lips together. “Do you have anything else to sell?”

Remus shakes his head, “No, I’m all yours, sweet girl.”

You smile, more than a little shy as you say, “Can we go back in and have a cuddle for a little bit? I’m tired.”

Remus laughs, shaking his head as he presses his lips to your jaw. “Yeah baby, lead the way.” The way he says it makes your stomach trip, even more so now that you’re high. He pats at your ass when you walk off to the door, revelling in the shriek that leaves you.

[gravehags]

the fabric of your flesh

Pairing: Cardinal Copia x f!Reader (Curator!Reader), Cirrus x f!Reader x Cumulus

Rating: EXPLICIT, MDNI

Tags: oh god where to begin, threesome, oral (m receiving), oral (f receiving), making out, serious relationship conversations, consensual infidelity, titty sucking, QUINT STRAP, masturbation, voyeurism, copia in the cuck chair, copia getting his balls slapped for being a little shit

Words: 7,300

Summary: You've always liked the ghoulettes. Maybe a little too much for your own good.

a/n: this fic takes place sometime after the events of sweet treat, a short little fic i wrote which sets the stage for the events of this piece. this is the longest single thing i've ever written so you know. enjoy lmao.

~~~

“Cardinal, what are your thoughts on sharing?”

Copia sets down the document he was reviewing and leans back in his chair, looking up at the ghoulette looming over his desk.

“It’s eh, a nice concept,” he says slowly, eyes flicking from Cirrus’ face to Cumulus seated behind her. “Is there something you…have in mind?”

“Your girl,” Cirrus says bluntly, and Cumulus yanks her backwards to sit in the chair next to her and give her a stern look. Copia’s eyebrows raise and he reaches up to stroke his mustache.

“What Cirrus was trying to say,” Cumulus begins, giving Cirrus another sideways glance, “is that we noticed there’s some um. Tension. Amongst us. And it’s not romantic,” she says in a rush, raising her hands placatingly when Copia opens his mouth, “we have no designs on her heart. That thoroughly belongs to you. What we mean is ah…more physical.”

A silence falls in the office as Copia watches his ghoulettes carefully while trying to fight back a smile.

“I see,” he says solemnly, leaning forward to steeple his hands, “have you discussed this with her?”

“We didn’t want to uh, step on any toes. So no. Not yet, anyway.”

He lets the silence simmer for a moment, watching Cirrus look around the room and Cumulus anxiously rub her hands. When he begins to laugh it makes both of them jump in their seats.

“Ladies,” he chuckles, “as if I haven’t seen your hungry eyes on her at every turn. I am very glad that you asked me for permission but the person you really need to speak to is her.”

A beat passes.

“So…is that a yes?” Cirrus asks, leaning forward.

“From me, sì. Under one condition, naturalmente.”

The ghoulettes look to one another.

“I get to watch.”

Cirrus snickers and Cumulus smiles.

“Oh that was a given, of course. But…you’re open to it?”

He smiles fondly at them.

“Sì, sì, I think it’s only fair to let her experience being with a woman or, eh. Women. Since she came to me untouched.”

“She what?!”

Once again he has to smother his laughter and instead looks at their gobsmacked faces kindly.

“Oh yes, you didn’t know? Despite her inexperience, however, she’s always been rather eh, voracious. And well…she’s not so inexperienced now I suppose, heh.” His eyes briefly unfocus as his mind conjures images of you in a litany of positions, eagerly and loudly taking him deep inside your–

Cumulus clears her throat politely.

“W-what…what were we talking about?”

“Your mate and her considerable sexual appetite,” Cirrus says wryly. Copia flushes deeply and fusses with his cassock, ignoring the bulge in his lap currently being hidden from view by his desk.

“Eh, right, right. Well as I said, this is ultimately her decision so uh, by all means. I think she’s working in the archives today.”

The ghoulettes stand and Cirrus gives him a slight bow before they turn to leave.

“Best of luck, my ghoulettes,” he calls to them as they walk out, surreptitiously adjusting himself. When the door shuts behind him he sags against the back of his chair.

This is going to prove interesting.

—

“Knock knock.”

You turn to look at the door and see two figures slip into the room - Copia’s ghoulettes, Cumulus and Cirrus. Your face splits in a smile - and your cheeks flush - as you wave the two in.

“Come on in, I’m just going through some of these old purchasing records for the collection. I–sorry, neither of you want to hear about this,” you say sheepishly, tucking your hair behind your ear.

Cirrus hops up to sit on one of the research tables while Cumulus leans on it next to her.

“We’d love to hear about it,” Cumulus murmurs.

You laugh. “You’re both very kind but not even Copia can listen to me talk about this kind of thing without nodding off no matter how hard he tries. I won’t subject you to it. How can I help you, though? Surely you didn’t come down here just to see me.”

“And if we did?” Cirrus purrs, leaning forward and putting her palms on her knees. Cumulus shoots her a sideways glance, lips tugging downwards in a slight frown.

There they are. Those butterflies ricocheting off the inside of your stomach every time you have an encounter with the two of them. The butterflies that make you sick if you allow yourself to linger on them. The butterflies that whisper accusations of infidelity in your ear.

“T-Then I’m sorry to disappoint you, ladies, for not being a more entertaining host.”

“Actually,” Cumulus says, her voice soft, “we wanted to talk to you about something.”

“Oh?” you’ve abandoned the stack of record books to fidget with your hands.

“Something um, personal.”

Cirrus hops down from the table and slowly begins to advance on you, lips curving into a smile that shows the points of her canines. It’s predatory and devious and utterly delicious and you’re terrified. She backs you against a bookcase and props her hand above your head, her breath stirring the flyaways on the side of your face.

“Cirrus!” Cumulus barks, “You’re freaking her out, knock it off!”

Cirrus whips around.

“What? I just figured the best way to get what we want is to show her what we want.”

“And w-what do you want?”

Your voice is small, your concentration mainly focused on how you’re going to explain this should any unexpected visitors walk in. Cirrus still looms above you but is pulled away roughly by Cumulus, giving you an opportunity to breathe once again.

“Angel,” the shorter ghoulette breathes and the pet name makes your knees wobble traitorously, “We had a conversation with the Cardinal earlier - about this thing going on between the three of us.”

“N-nothing’s going on,” you whisper, panicked. “What…what did you say to him?”

“This is going really well, ‘Lus” Cirrus groans, collapsing in a desk chair.

“Fuck,” Cumulus swears under her breath, “okay let’s back up. Start with the basics. We like you.”

“…I like you too.”

“Allow me to be more specific. We like you. As in we want you.”

Your mouth gapes but no words come out.

“As in,” Cirrus says, spinning in the chair, “as in we want to do filthy, unspeakable, unholy things to you. And don’t act surprised - we can smell it on you. You want it too.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” you scoff, cheeks flushed and arms crossed defensively, “I-I would never be unfaithful to Copia, regardless of what you smell on me.”

“We know, hon,” Cumulus murmurs, “which brings us back to the conversation we had with him earlier today.”

“You spoke with him about–about—”

“Sharing you?” Cirrus smirks, “Yeah. And he was open to it, under one condition - and provided that you are open to it, of course.”

“Sharing me? What like some kind of fucked up romantic timeshare situation? He was open to that?”

“Oh, don’t worry - we have no designs on your romantic relationship. We would never do that to the Cardinal. What we propose is purely physical.”

You go quiet for a moment, heart racing.

“What was Copia’s condition? Apart from my consent.”

“He wants to watch,” Cirrus says, lips curling into a filthy grin.

Your cheeks are so hot you swear you’re going to pass out, but no longer from embarrassment or stress.

From arousal.

“The two of you…really want me?”

Both ghoulettes laugh incredulously.

“Is that so hard to believe?” Cumulus says, stepping forward to toy with the loose ends of your hair. “Pretty little thing like you? Always being so sweet to us - to all the ghouls? We would be honored to have you.”

“And have you we would,” Cirrus growls, rising from her seat to advance on you once more, “Over and over until you beg for us to stop. Get you so drunk on pussy you can’t think anymore. All while your beloved mate watches us. So what do you say?”

When your eyes slide closed and head tilts back, a small whimper escapes you and you hear Cumulus sharply inhale.

“Think that’s a ‘yes’, ‘Lus.”

“I want to hear her say it,” Cumulus breathes, “Go on, angel. Tell us what you want.”

“Want…” your voice comes out in a rasp, “want you both. Want you to fuck me until I forget my own name. Want to taste you. And I want Copia to watch as you use my body for your own pleasure. Please. Please I–”

Your words are cut off as Cumulus lunges forward and slides her fingers to cup the base of your skull as her soft lips press against yours. She’s languorous about it - decadent - teasing your mouth open to slide her tongue against yours. You hear Cirrus whine and Cumulus chuckles into your mouth before pulling away. Before you can say a word, the taller ghoulette is upon you, backing you into the bookcase once more. Her kiss is more forceful than Cumulus’ - though no less enjoyable - and you gasp in delight when she slots a firm thigh in between your legs. When your hips rut against her, she pulls back.

“The Cardinal was right,” Cirrus grins, “you are a voracious little thing, aren’t you?”

You laugh, hands brushing her waist.

“He said that about me?”

“Mmhmm,” Cumulus says with a smile, “so…when do you want us?”

“Let me text Copia, tell him to come down here and I’ll let you bend me over a desk right here and now.”

The ghoulettes erupt in laughter.

“Oh no, angel, we’re going to do this right. We want you in a proper bed where we can take our time with you, yeah?”

“Hmm, if you insist,” you say with a pout, cocking your head to the side. “I’ll talk to him and see what works best. Soon.”

Cirrus bends down and drags the tip of her tongue along your lower lip, making you whimper. She steps back, allowing Cumulus to step in and run her lips along your jawline before kissing you softly.

“Can’t wait to give the Cardinal a show,” she breathes. “See you around, angel.”

“Mmhmm,” you confirm, and as soon as they came in, they’re gone. You sigh heavily.

Your conversation with your lover tonight should prove interesting. And you intend on showing him just how thankful you are.

—--

After the two of you converse on the matter - at great length until you’re both exhausted - you’re collapsed halfway on his chest as the two of you catch your breath. As you roll off him, you laugh.

“I gotta be honest, love, I’m a little bit surprised.”

“Hmm?” he says, angling himself to look at you. “What do you mean?”

“This whole thing with the ghoulettes. I never thought you would ever want to uh, share me. Especially considering I have caught you on multiple occasions chastising siblings and ghouls for giving me the once-over.”

“Eh, noticed that, did you?” Copia says, cheeks flushing, “Well, I don’t know. Part of me feels bad for scooping you up before you got a chance to…explore your desires. Especially with women so…” he finishes lamely.

“Uh-huh. Very kind of you. And certainly not because you have a filthy fantasy about watching me get destroyed by two beautiful, infernal women. Surely that has nothing to do with it.”

“Amore!” Copia objects, placing a hand to his heart, “My intentions are pure!”

“Oh, of course,” you smirk, rolling your eyes, “When the ghoulettes approached you, you definitely weren’t thinking about how pretty I’d look getting my titties sucked and pussy ate - my cheeks all flushed and sweaty as I moan wantonly, my eyes on you from the bed while they–”

“Enough!” Copia croaks, head falling back against the pillow. “Cazzo, are you trying to get me to cum in the sheets?”

“Wouldn’t be the first time,” you snark, hand drifting down to cup the length of him. “Though I’m not sure I’ve had enough of you yet, Your Eminence.”

You shift the bedcovers, laying a line of fervent kisses down his chest.

“Again, amore?”

You place several wet kisses to his belly, grinning up at him.

“Don’t say that as if you’re not enjoying every second of this. We spent almost a whole year in each other’s presence without fucking each other’s brains out. That’s a lot of time to make up for, beloved.”

He chuckles, threading his fingers through your hair as you lick a stripe up his cock.

“You’re insatiable, diavoletta mia.”

“That’s what the ghoulettes said that you said about me. As if you didn’t keep me locked in your bedroom for almost three days after the first time we made love.”

“Mmm let’s do that aga–ah!”

You’ve had enough chatter, and show him so by slipping the length of him into your eager mouth. He’s silent for only a moment, hips flexing against you, before he begins babbling praise.

“Perfetta ragazza,” he groans as your head bobs to take him deeper, “you’re too–hnngh–good to this old man. Always knew that–ah–mouth of yours would look good like this. And that tongue, Sathanas…”

You chuckle around him, sliding off just enough to suckle the swollen head, making him moan and fist your hair. He ruts jerkily against you so you hold him down, thumbs caressing his hip bones as your tongue traces up his length.

“You’re right, you know,” he pants, “This–ah–thing with the ghoulettes? S-somewhat selfish reasons. Every time I see you with them I-I picture you in this bed, p-pleasuring each other. I trust them, trust that they will not–ah–overstep–fuck, amore!”

You’ve taken him back as far as you can and swallowed around him, hand gently massaging his balls. His breath comes in sharp whines as he fights to not thrust dumbly into you, chasing his pleasure. He’s close, you can tell by the broken way he spouts his praise, so you double down and hollow your cheeks.

“Cazzo, cazzo, caz–oh dolcezza, j-just like that. A-almost there, fuck baby.”

You pull off him just enough to suck on the head and, resting it on your tongue, your hand rockets up and down the wet length of him. He lifts his head up and looks into your half-lidded eyes and with a groan his cock spasms against your tongue, spurting his seed into your open and eager mouth.

“That’s it, amore, take it,” he sighs, rutting his hips against your mouth, “Fuck, you look beautiful like this.”

Your lips wrap around his softening cock for a moment, sucking any remnants off of him before pulling off with a pop and making a big show of swallowing and sitting back on your haunches. Copia lets out a tired laugh but he’s got a glint in his eye as his gaze roves your naked form.

“Get up here,” he growls, crooking a finger at you. Slowly, you crawl along his body until your breasts are flush against his chest hair and you can feel his breath against your lips.

“No,” he says patiently, raising a finger to tap on his mustache, “here.”

“Again, amore?” you ask, mocking his earlier words.

“Shall I tie you up and hold you down to have my meal instead?” his hands grip at the meat of your ass, urging you upwards. “Come. Here. Now.”

Oh, how you love when the bossy Cardinal comes out.

__

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!”

You’re naked and bent over one of the drawers you’ve hijacked from Copia, rifling through various pieces of lace and silk. The man in question is leaning against the doorway to his bedroom, arms crossed as he observes you.

“What’s the fuss, amore?”

“The fuss–” you say, standing up and putting your hands on your hips, “--is I cannot figure out what I’m going to wear for this…rendezvous.”

“Eh, traditionally I think it’s done in the nude.”

You glare at him and brandish a pale pink mesh thong in his direction.

“You know what I mean, I have to make a…a good impression. Sexy. I can’t just answer the door with my tits and coochie out like ‘hello welcome to the filth den’. I mean, come on, I agonized over what to wear when I went to seduce you too.”

“Did you?” he asks, eyebrows raised as he ambles over to you, “Ah, now that was memorable. Seeing you sitting in my chair in that pretty little virginal cream silk slip, waiting for me. Ready for me. Mmm cara, so eager–”

Abruptly he pulls you backwards against his chest, fingers sliding down your belly before teasing at the heat of you.

“Copia, my love, as much as I appreciate where this is going,” you murmur, “they’re going to be here in twenty minutes and respectfully, I’m not giving them sloppy seconds.”

“Ugh, fine,” he growls, relinquishing his grip on you. “What about that eh, dark blue silk piece you have? With the lace along the neckline? It looks so pretty with your hair.”

Huh. There’s a thought.

You bend over to do some more digging - ignoring the way Copia is insistently grinding against your ass - and locate it with a triumphant noise. You turn in his grip and kiss him firmly.

“My love, this was inspired, I–” there’s something familiar nudging against you and you look up at him, “Don’t get excited so soon my love, I’d hate for you to uh - finish before anything even begins.”

“Ah dolcezza, I might be in my fifties but have I not proven to have the stamina of Zeus himself?”

“Zeus, huh?” you say, giving him a look, “I certainly hope you don’t have his sense of fidelity, too.”

He looks affronted. It’s cute.

“Amore, you question my faithfulness? You question my devotion? I would never touch another. You, on the other hand. Oh, you were just waiting for this opportunity, weren’t you?”

He’s got an evil little grin on his face and you know he’s trying to get a rise out of you but your lips dip down into a frown and your heart sinks.

“Copia, you know I would never…maybe this isn’t a good idea,” you sigh deeply, biting your lip as tears well in your eyes.

“Oh amore mio,” he says softly, cupping your cheeks in his hands, “I was only teasing! If you are not comfortable with this, say the word and I will end it immediatamente. Truly though, it’s okay, huh? People do eh, exploring all the time while still maintaining loyalty to a partner. And I trust both them and you. My desires are inconsequential - but allow me to give you this gift, sì?”

You nod slowly.

“I love you,” you murmur, reaching up to take his hands in yours, “so much. So much it scares me sometimes, you know? I would never, ever want to do anything that would hurt you.”

He kisses each of your hands.

“And I love you. I know you wouldn’t hurt me but if you have any uncertainty, know that I am A-OK with this. Prometto. Nothing will ever come between us but Sathanas you are going to look so lovely spread out beneath them. On top of them. Sideways, even.”

You sniffle and laugh.

“Hmm,” your eyes glaze over for a moment, “what do you think they’re going to do to me, Cope?”

“Anything. Everything. Kiss and lick and suck and fuck…they’re going to take you apart, dolcezza.”

You shiver.

“Getting me all worked up, Cardinal,” you breathe, the tip of your tongue sliding out to wet your lips.

“I would be a poor host if I did not, eh, ready the party favor, hmm?”

Stepping back with a smile, you slide the midnight blue slip over your head and look in the mirror to loosen your hair from its messy bun.

“Perfetta,” Copia whispers, watching you adjust strands so they fall just right, “they will not be able to resist you.”

“And I will not offer any resistance,” you say quietly, turning away from the mirror to face your beloved. You smooth your hands down the front of his black suit and smile.

“I can do this,” you murmur, those familiar butterflies back in your stomach.

“Only if you want to but yes, I believe you can,” he smiles, fussing at your hair. Abruptly, you grab him by the back of the head and slot your lips against his in an aggressive kiss that slowly turns more lazy and soft. You feel a throb from between your thighs as he whimpers when you suck on his tongue and slowly pull away.

“Good luck tonight,” you purr, “don’t give up the game too quickly, hmm?”

He laughs.

“I had plenty of solo practice drawing things out before we got together, thank you very much.”

“Oh yeah?” you say, cocking your head, “Surely you weren’t thinking of me any of those times…”

“Surely not,” he shakes his head with a smile, “Surely there was another curator who liked to smile at me so prettily and shake her ass so tantalizingly whenever she walked in front of me in tight little skirts. That curator was always so kind to this lecherous old Cardinal. Mmm she was so sweet and soft and–eh, what were we talking about?”

“How you used to shamelessly jack off after staring at my ass?”

“No, no, that was the other curator–”

You roll your eyes and reach your hand down to cup his bulge, making him whine and buck into your touch.

“Easy, dolcezza, easy…I am in a fragile state.”

“‘Fragile state’ my ass,” you grin, “I’ve seen you roll off of me and not ten minutes later hop back on like I’m a pony at a state fair.”

“Ah, not entirely accurate,” he says, lifting a pedantic finger, “you are slightly nicer looking than a pony.”

You slap his balls sharply, causing him to double over with a yelp.

“Just for that, I’m definitely going to leave you for a ghoulette now. Maybe a ghoul too. Who knows?”

“Amore!” he wheeze-laughs, comically cupping himself, “be sweet to me, huh? I might not survive tonight after watching what they do with you…”

“Povera mia,” you croon, “to be fair, I might not survive, myself. I–”

Three knocks sound at the door to Copia’s quarters and you exhale heavily.

“Do you want me to–”

“Yeah,” you nod, walking over to the bed and lowering yourself to sit on the end, facing the doorway. Your heart thuds in your chest as you watch your beloved amble over to the door and open it, smiling when you hear his familiar odd little noises as he stands aside and gestures for your guests to come in. When the ghoulettes step through the threshold your breath catches in your throat. It’s not exactly that you’d forgotten how beautiful they both are but Sathanas it continuously takes you by surprise. They’re both wearing casual clothing - Cirrus in a large t-shirt and basketball shorts and Cumulus in a floral robe - and an anxious laugh bleats out of you before you can smother it. Cumulus is preoccupied with saying something to Copia but Cirrus hears it and gives you a sly grin and a cocked brow. When Copia extends his arm to gesture towards you, your heart plummets into your stomach.

“He–” your voice comes out thick and croaky, “hey, you two. P-please, come in.”

Cumulus favors you with a soft, reassuring smile as she comes to sit next to you. Cirrus plops down on the other side, a hand pushing into the plush red duvet.

“Nice place,” she says, looking around the paneled room, “really elegant.”

“Not my place,” you admit sheepishly, “this is all him.” You point to Copia, who is busy settling into the high backed chair in the corner of the room. He smiles.

“Don’t let her fool you, her room is just as nice. Lots of blues. You’d like it, Cumulus.”

The aforementioned ghoulette laughs quietly, and when she reaches up a hand to brush your hair off your shoulder you want to kick yourself for the way you jump.

“Nervous, angel?” Cirrus asks, flopping backwards onto the bed and letting her fingers dance at the small of your back. You laugh, too loud.

“Y-yeah. Yeah I’m really fucking nervous.”

“What part are you nervous about, sweetheart?” Cumulus asks, shifting her body to face you.

“Uh…everything? The fact that I’ve never been with anyone but Copia, the fact that I’m committing physical infidelity, the fact that you two are so goddamn beautiful, the fact that the man I love is going to be watching…take your pick.”

“Amore, if my presence is causing you any grief I would be happy to le–”

“No,” you say quickly, and you hate the panic in your voice, “No. Please, I need you here. You know how I am, it’s the anxiety. I want to do this for you.”

“For yourself too, I hope,” Cirrus comments from her spot behind you, “unless we’ve been misreading the vibes…?”

“No. Not at all. The vibes are…absolutely there. Incredibly there, in fact. I-I want this,” you look to Cumulus, “I want you. Both.”

“Atta girl,” Cirrus purrs and you don’t even have to look at her to know she’s got a filthy grin curling her lips, “come on, angel. We’ll put on a good show for the Cardinal.”

You look over at Copia, the rapid rise and fall of his chest from the promises of what lie ahead making you ache. Cirrus stands, taking off her shirt in a smooth motion and tossing it to the floor.

“C’mon,” she says, shimmying her shorts and underwear off and climbing onto the bed, “get over here.”

Cumulus snorts as she gets up and you turn, crawling towards Cirrus who is resting against the pillows. When you settle in next to her you finally get a good look at her - all long legs and rounded hips and dusky nipples. You know you’re breathing too loud and then out of the corner of your eye you see Cumulus drop her robe. Cirrus’ chuckle at the whine that comes out of you fans your hair, which she idly twirls between her fingers.

“Perfect, isn’t she?” she asks, looking over at the other ghoulette. You nod. Perfect is an understatement. A rounded belly, large, lush breasts and generous thighs between which are nestled a thatch of white curls. Her tail waves lazily behind her as she uses her hands to trace the path of your gaze. She approaches the other side of the bed and slides in behind you.

“This is pretty,” Cumulus comments, fingers brushing the hem of your blue slip, “keep it on for a little longer, hmm? I like the way it looks on you.”

You nod dumbly and shift to lie on your back. When you do, you catch a glimpse of Copia in the corner. His hand rests in his lap, fingers twitching towards his bulge but he doesn’t touch himself. Not yet. His eyes gleam at you. You’ve got your hands folded on your belly trying desperately not to gawk at either of the beautiful, nude women you’re sandwiched in between.

“Can we touch you?” Cirrus murmurs, ghosting a hand over you.

“Please. Please.”

She smiles and when she lowers her hand to brush against your own you let out a deep exhale. All she’s doing is letting her fingertips glide along the backs of your hands, but it makes you dizzy. When Cumulus reaches down to brush along your thigh, your breath hitches in your throat.

“So sensitive,” Cumulus breathes, dragging her fingers up and over your hip to cradle your belly. You had almost forgotten how the two of them sport a cooling touch - something that comes rocketing back when you feel the almost painful tautness of your nipples. Judging from the low noise that comes out of Cirrus, she’s noticed it too.

“Mmm, pretty little thing,” she purrs, reaching a hand to cup your breast and thumb your nipple through the fabric, “Already so excited for us, ‘Lus.”

“Sure is,” Cumulus agrees, her lips tracing the shell of your ear, “Tell us what you want, angel.”

“K-kiss me. Please.”

“Begs pretty, too,” Cirrus chuckles, “Can’t wait to hear more of that later when I’m making you see stars. Go on, ‘Lus. You’re the one who couldn’t stop talking about her lips.”

Your head turns slightly to face the shorter ghoulette, stomach swooping when she leans in and blows against your lips. You shiver comically and with a smile she reaches a hand up to cup your cheek.

“Ready?” she asks, so softly only you can hear. You nod. When she leans in to capture your lips with hers, you feel as if a dam has broken inside you. All your previous hesitation is gone as you bury your fingers into her curls and pull her towards you, tongue dancing with hers. She’s just as decadent about it as you remember from that day in the archives, soft and yielding as you whimper into each other’s mouths. You’re vaguely aware of Cirrus breathing a curse next to you as Cumulus drapes her body halfway onto yours, hands kneading flesh through fabric. And speaking of fabric–

“This has to come off. Now.” Cumulus groans while pulling away for breath. She’s got one hand gripping the hem of your slip and eagerly shimmying it off your body, pausing to let you lift your hips and sit up to expedite its removal. When the offending garment is finally off, Cumulus skillfully tosses it over to Copia, who catches it with a gasp. You see him press the silk to his cheek, savoring the remnants of warmth from your body and the sight makes you feral.

“Well, well, well, look at you,” Cirrus breathes with a small laugh, “just as soft and lovely as we always knew you would be, right ‘Lus?”

You don’t wait to hear Cumulus’ answer before lunging upwards and slotting your lips against Cirrus’. The taller ghoulette is shocked for only a moment before gripping your thigh and hitching it up on her hip. Where Cumulus’ kiss felt like a dance, Cirrus’ feels like a domination and one you are more than happy to yield to. Teeth chase tongues and when her claws bite into the meat of your waist, you whine into her mouth. When she pulls away you pursue her but she pushes you down into the mattress.

“The Cardinal was right about you,” she grins, “Filthy little thing.”

“If you’re this eager for him, I understand him keeping you from the ghouls,” Cumulus murmurs, “Lucky he likes us best. Shame for the boys, but we’re perfectly fine keeping you all to ourselves.”

“Poor Aether,” Cirrus laughs, “wants you so bad and can’t have you. We promise we won’t be mean and tell him anything about tonight. Much.”

Your head is spinning with arousal, the thought of the ghoulettes tormenting the strong ghoul with sordid details about bedding you causing your clit to throb. Before you can linger on it any further, Cumulus drags her tongue over your clavicle, making you shiver. As if coordinated, both ghoulettes slide down your body until their breath ghosts over your nipples. Your cheeks are hot as Cirrus flicks the tip of her tongue out to graze it. Teasingly she drags the muscle around your areola, avoiding where you want her most and making you whimper pathetically.

“Don’t be cruel, Cir,” Cumulus chastises, placing soft, sucking kisses into the meat of your breast.

“Wanna hear how pretty she begs for me,” she says, smoothing a hand over your belly, “Come on angel, tell me what you want.”

“Suck my tits,” you eke out and Cirrus laughs.

“Oh, the Cardinal’s delicate flower knows how to be direct. I like that,” she pulls back slightly and turns her head to address Copia, “She always this good for you?”

“Better,” you hear Copia rasp and another throb thrums from between your legs.

“Well,” she says, turning her attention back to your breast, “good girls always get what they ask for, right ‘Lus?”

“Then quit talking and fucking give it to me already,” you grit out. Cumulus lets out a delighted noise and Cirrus’ claws bite into your flesh before she drags the flat of her tongue over your hardened nipple. When she finally wraps her lips around the bud and sucks, your hand flies to the back of her head. She’s vicious with her attentions, nipping with sharp canines - Cumulus on the other hand returns to sucking bruises into your other breast, her hand drifting further south. When she firmly cups your mound in her palm a sigh escapes you.

“So good,” you murmur, stroking Cirrus’ dark hair. The tall ghoulette pulls off you with a pop and gives you a grin. Gently, you urge Cumulus back up to face you so you can slide your lips against hers, hand kneading her breast. 

“She likes that,” Cirrus breathes, “Loves having her tits played with.”

You moan into Cumulus’ mouth before pulling back for breath. With a firm shove you push the shorter ghoulette flat on her back, dragging your tongue down her sternum. As soon as your lips make contact with her nipple she lets out a whine that goes straight to your cunt. You lap eagerly, rolling her other bud between your fingers as Cirrus settles in behind you to place wet kisses on your shoulder. Out of the corner of your eye you see Copia with his cock in his gloved hand, panting as he stares at you. You’re filled with affection and, with an immense desire to put on a good show for him, you sit up and swing your leg over Cumulus to straddle her. Cirrus falls on her back, clapping as you lower your mouth to sloppily kiss Cumulus.

“Mmm, initiative,” Cirrus purrs, sitting up and delivering a sharp, pleasurable slap to your ass that jolts you forward, “we like that. Keep going, girls. I’ll be back.”

You pull away and grasp for Cirrus, who slides off the bed and reaches to a bag you hadn’t seen either of them come in with. Before you can see what she pulls out, Cumulus grabs the back of your head and pulls you down to where she can drag her teeth along your throat. Her claws scrape at your scalp and you delightedly let her tug you where she wants you. Something about the way her belly presses against yours makes you flush from head to toe. You feel…decadent. Hedonistic. It’s intoxicating and you want nothing more than to show the ghoulette beneath you exactly how good she’s making you feel.

“I know that look,” Cirrus says with a grin, “go on, angel. Make her sing for you.”

I’m going to make you sing, bellezza.

Instantly, you’re taken back to your first night with Copia and you let out a breathy laugh before looking down at Cumulus, who gazes up at you with pupils blown.

“I’ve never done this before,” you murmur and she smiles.

“You’re more familiar with the terrain than you realize. I’ll tell you what feels good, okay?”

You nod and slowly begin to maneuver yourself down her body, kissing and licking every inch of skin available to you. When you settle between her spread thighs and place a kiss to her mound, she lets out a soft sigh. Delicately, you use your thumbs to spread her open and immediately begin salivating when you see how deliciously wet she is. She twitches when your heavy exhale ghosts over her cunt.

“Go on, pretty girl,” you hear Cirrus say encouragingly from behind you, her hands smoothing over your hips. “I’ve got something real special for you.”

As your lips make contact with Cumulus’ slick folds you gasp. Behind you, Cirrus drags the head of what you assume is a silicone cock through your own folds, causing you to arch your back. When you pull away to look back at her she chides you.

“Keep your eyes on the prize, angel. Don’t worry, I’ll take care of you.”

Well. You don’t need telling twice.

With as much fervor as you kissed her, you slide your lips and tongue over her folds, delighting in the way her hand flies to your hair. She’s right, of course, you’re familiar with the general terrain and when the tip of your tongue grazes her swollen clit, she gasps your name. From behind you, you feel the head of the cock drag through your folds again and gently, Cirrus eases the thick tip inside you. You whine into Cumulus’ cunt, hungry for more, but Cirrus holds your hips steady to keep you from bucking backwards.

“Sweet–ah–sweet Aether…used his quintessence on this strap, you know that? Makes it feel like it’s actually a part of me. Poor ghoul had n-no idea who it was going to be used on. Keep going, angel. Want to see you t-take her apart.”

Panting and desperate for her to fill you up, you lower your mouth again to lap up Cumulus’ slick. When your tongue eases inside her she lets out a loud, long moan.

“Good girl,” Cirrus breathes, “g-good–fuck.”

Fuck is right. With agonizing slowness she pushes the strap in and your jaw hangs open at the stretch. Copia is nothing to sneeze at, and he’s thick too, but this you feel in your guts. Your arms wobble as they struggle to hold you up and when Cirrus bottoms out with a groan you let out a pathetic whimper.

“H-how does she feel, Cir?”

You can hear Cirrus panting roughly behind you, hands smoothing over your ass.

“Unholy fucking hell, ‘Lus, hot and wet and t-tight, fuck. I–”

You squeeze around her as hard as you can and Cirrus cuts off with a sharp gasp and a broken moan. When you crane your head to look at her over your shoulder, you give her a grin and she lets out a breathy laugh.

“Oh Cardinal, she’s wicked.”

You hear Copia let out a low chuckle from behind you and it makes your cunt spasm around Cirrus.

“Finish your task, angel,” she coos and you glance up at Cumulus who looks down at you and wets her lips. Feeling deliciously full of both Cirrus’ cock and renewed fervor, you lower your head and slowly drag your tongue though her folds. 

“That’s it,” Cirrus murmurs, slowly pulling out of you then pushing back in, “c’mon baby, show her how much you like her.”

So you do.

You’ve got your hands wrapped around Cumulus’ generous thighs, fingers digging hard enough to bruise as you alternate between fucking her with your tongue and circling her clit. Cirrus’ thrusts are deep and forceful, pumping in and out of you while streams of filth slide out of her mouth. 

“That’s it, honey,” Cumulus whimpers from above you, burying her fingers in your hair and bucking her hips against your mouth, “so good for me, right there, right–fuck!”

Her praise ceases as you wrap your lips around her clit and suck. Cirrus moans and her pace quickens, fucking into you with less and less abandon. From behind you you hear a strangled amore mio and you know that Copia is close. The visual of his gloved hand wetly sliding along his cock, the taste of Cumulus beneath you, and the mounting pressure of Cirrus’ cock inside you make you feel like you’re going insane. Your moans are muffled, your mouth thoroughly occupied with suckling at Cumulus’ swollen clit while she cries out above you.

“Please, please, please,” she whines, “so close, so fucking close honey, don’t stop!”

You double down and take a page from Copia’s playbook, taking a finger and teasing at her entrance. Slowly, you sink it in knuckle deep and crook it searching for that sweet spot. When she screams your name you know you’ve found it, delighting in the way her cunt clenches around you. When she shatters, she pulls your hair hard enough to hurt but you don’t care, not with the way she whimpers your name like a prayer. The sounds she makes only inflame your passion further and you want nothing more than to wrench another orgasm out of her but suddenly she’s pushing you away. Taking the hint you pull back and suddenly Cirrus’ hand wraps around your shoulder.

“My turn,” she snarls, yanking you towards her and causing your back to arch. Her steady thrusts become sharper, harder, as she pounds into you and makes you see stars. Wrapping her hand around your throat she pulls your back flush against her.

“Look at him,” she growls, her breath hot in your ear, “Look at what you do to him.”

You turn your head to look at your beloved and a gasp hiccups out of your throat. He’s hunched in on himself, gazing up at you with his paints streaked down his face and his mouth hung open in a moan. His hand squeezes at his reddened, leaking cock, hips fucking upwards into his fist. Cirrus holds you in place, her hand seeking your sweat-slick breast to pinch sharply at your nipple as she fucks ruthlessly into you. You cry out, pushing backwards to meet her thrusts.

“I know you’re close, angel,” she groans, hips jackhammering into you hard enough you can’t catch your breath, “mmm fuck gonna–ah–gonna fill this pretty little cunt up. Gonna–ah-ah-fuck, baby!”

“Give it to me, Cir,” you whine, “just like that, j–Copia!”

You cum with a cry, watching as Copia spasms, painting his fist and chest with rope upon rope of his seed. Behind you Cirrus thrusts three times more before you feel her fill you up. You’re trembling in her tight grip as she empties herself into you, her forehead pressed against your shoulder. Copia is looking at you with nothing but pure adoration as you struggle to catch your breath. A silence settles among the four of you and you break Copia’s gaze to look down at Cumulus.

“Beautiful,” she breathes with a wide smile, “fucking beautiful. Look at you.”

You let out a short, delirious laugh and Cirrus mouths weakly at your shoulder.

“You were perfect,” she murmurs into your ear, pressing a kiss to the side of your head, “just like we knew you’d be. Wasn’t she, Cardinal?”

Copia’s head is tipped back against the chair, eyes trained on the ceiling.

“She always is. Always. Amata mia.”

Gently, Cirrus extricates herself from you and the slide of the rigid silicone dildo as it exits your cunt makes you gasp. Weakly, you crawl forwards to Cumulus’ embrace and collapse next to her. Cirrus follows after a moment, slipping in beside you.

“So, how was it?”

Your gaze lingers on the canopy above you and you tip your head to lean against Cumulus.

“Wow,” you say with a dazed smile, “women, huh?”

Cirrus barks out a laugh. You feel your eyelids get heavy as you watch Copia get up and go into the bathroom.

“Don’t fall asleep on us,” Cumulus nudges you, “we’re not done with you yet.”

You whine but you can’t deny the delicious ache coming from between your thighs.

“I’m gonna need a snack, then,” you say with a sigh.

“Anything you want, bellezza,” Copia says, returning to the bedroom, half cleaned up, “I am your servant.”

Hmm. Now that’s a thought.

“Bring me some grapes, a bag of chips, and a pint of ice cream and I’ll show the girls how pretty I look when I bounce on your cock, huh?”

Cumulus lets out a soft gasp and Cirrus’ eyebrows shoot up.

“What flavor?” Copia rasps out, reaching down to adjust the bulge in his pants.

Mmm. You could get used to this.

[brokentrafficknight]

Wholesome au cinder breaks a vace by mistake ands to ptsd from the madame she falls begging fir forgiveness from her new parents witch leads to group hug and lots of parental head kisses and " its okay mommy and daddy are here"

There is no feasible way for me to do this with just chibis lmao

Have poorly written fanfiction instead c:

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

The crash came before Cinder even had a chance to turn and catch her mistake. She’d been told countless times not to chase Ruby through the house and now, as she turned to see just what they had done, the rush of playing with her sister had died. Scattered across the floor of the living room were the pieces of her mother’s vase.

“Oooh…” Cinder didn’t have to look back to know Ruby was peeking her head out from the kitchen, no longer confused why their game of tag had been abruptly cut short. “C-Cindy—”

“Get the broom, Ruby,” Cinder choked the words out, head held low as she counted the shards of porcelain. Her hands balled up into shaking fists until her whole body started to tremble. She could already hear Jaune, Pyrrha and Summer’s footsteps approaching. Their words were drowned out by the sinking feeling in Cinder’s chest as memories of the Glass Unicorn resurfaced.

A shaky hand clutched for the Madam’s collar, waiting for the shock to come as her throat tightened and every breath became more and more difficult to take in. Tears welled in Cinder’s eyes against her will. Poisonous words filled her thoughts and dropped her to her knees scooping up the broken vase together into a pile,‘This is my fault, they’re going to hate me.’

‘They’re going to put you back in a collar. How could anyone love someone like you?’

‘You’re nothing. Broken. Unwanted. Unwelcome.’

Gentle hands took hers and gently squeezed, snapping her out of the fog as she looked up into warm, deep blue eyes. There wasn’t a hint of the anger and hate that she had been dreading, only the concern and care of her father. Jaune’s voice was calm and soft as he said, “You’re okay, just breathe.”

“I’m sorry… I’m so, so sorry… Please don’t hate me, I’m–” Another hand covered hers and Cinder’s eyes met her mother’s, Pyrrha’s. Her mother merely smiled and shook her head at every apology Cinder made. Her hand yanked away from Jaune’s to clutch at her collar, only finding the jewel pendant they had given her for her birthday.

Summer drew her into a hug, rocking her back and forth just whispering, “It’s going to be okay, Cindy. We love you.” Hot tears streamed down Cinder’s cheeks, stinging her face as she broke into weak sobs and clung to Summer for dear life. Jaune and Pyrrha hugged both of them tight, laying soft kisses to Cinder’s head and rubbing her back as she began to catch her breath. “It’s just a vase.”

----

The pieces of the vase were gathered up after Jaune carried Cinder off to the kitchen to get her some water and a snack. The table the vase had sat on would go without it for a month before Pyrrha would proudly set a ‘new’ one there. The cracks were sealed back together with a powdered gold lacquer. Standing behind the rest of her family, Cinder admired the work from far nervously.

Amber eyes met emerald green and Pyrrha smiled brightly, motioning for her to come closer, dropping low to be closer to her daughter’s height. Cinder approached slowly, cautiously, before being pulled into a warm hug that she couldn’t help but smile. When Pyrrha whispered into Cinder’s ear, she felt her heart swell, “Something precious being broken doesn’t mean you have to throw it away. Not when you can fix it. I think it looks prettier like this.”

[y3ager]

MATERIAL GIRL.

— and what do you give the girl who has everything? two rich boyfriends!

jean k. x eren y. x black!fem!reader

tags: modern au, fluff, polyamorous relationship. socialite!reader. lovergirldeepdown!reader. 4k word count. inspired by this blurb.

HAILING FROM OLD money— your father the CEO of a century old automobile brand and your mother the third generation runway model—you have seen all there is to see, worn what there is to wear, had every priceless stone dangle from your neck and fingers, and tasted the most decadent of foods. the belief that just superficial things would be enough to sway you offends you greatly. if you don’t have it, you will have it as if it’s your right at this point. it takes much more than dinner and a yacht ride to make you squeal.

and that’s what’s so tiring about the whole dating scene. the pool is filled to the brim with arrogant nepotism babies in khaki shorts and sweaters around their shoulders. they’ll never worry about a thing because daddy kisses the ass of this man and mommy grins in the face of that woman, and by god, do they make it known. if another man brags about owning original modigliani pieces over dinner, he’ll be met with an oyster shell to the eye. who are you supposed to be, some bright-eyed influencer? please. check the pedigree.

things changed when you met them, however. one in the summer, and one in the winter.

you were on the jet back home from italy when hitch, a girl you’ve known since you were a tyke, bombarded your phone with messages about christening her new penthouse with a pool party you just had to come to, lest she’d drag you there. after confirming your attendance, you rolled back over in the white leather reclining seat and pulled your silk eye mask back down, making a mental note to get your braids refreshed and place an order for a new bikini.

you’re reborn as a literal doll, the braids on the left side of your head coaxed into an intricate butterfly while the others lay flat against your scalp in faultless rows and hang low to your hipbones. white, white, white everywhere, from the nails, the strappy swimsuit, the miu miu sandals; a beautiful contrasts against your glistening ebon skin dusted with body shimmer for good measure. perfect, as usual.

hitch’s new high rise penthouse is something out of a multimillion dollar budget drama, with its dozens of crystal clear windows and modern interior. sitting far away enough from the city to avoid the hustle and bustle, but close enough to gaze at the twinkling lights, it’s practically a palace for the dreyse corporation heir.

champagne flute filled with 1820 juglar cuvée, you mingle amongst the next generation of the one percent. hitch’s friends, and your friends by proxy you assume, are a breath of fresh air. human.

but there’s one person amongst the gaggle you don’t recognize. from your spot next to the slightly tispy miss dreyse, your dark eyes glance over the rim of your ivory framed sunnies, glass rim tapping absentmindedly against lined, glossed lips. light brown mullet, slightly tanned skin, dark brown eyes...

“hitchie...” your elbow gently bumps into the blonde’s sides, snatching her out of her mild stupor. “who’s that?” you ask innocently, gesturing with your half full flute. it’s casual, inquisitive.

hitch squints a little bit, pure concentration written all over her features as she tries to put a name to the face. “oh!” when the name comes to her, her hand meets the back of your shoulder in a kinda hard slap, totally unintentional, of course. “jean, kirschtein! you know, from-” a hiccup interrupts her introduction, making her burst into a quick giggle. “-the oil company.”

the pieces begin to come together, you know the names all of the elite; the braun’s, the leonhart’s, the ackerman’s, names listed amongst yours and names you close deals with. clans with power, influence, wealth, distinction.

he, jean, is walking over now; casual with an easy stride that shows he’s in no rush, he’s confident. he pays his respects to the girl of the hour, congratulating her on her new playhouse before her attention is diverted by another guest calling her name to get her to come over there. hitch slips off, but not before discreetly tapping your lower back in excitement; an unspoken ‘get him.’

“jean,” he introduces himself, extending his hand in a polite greeting. “i wanted to speak to hitch, but i wanted to talk to you, too. you are breathtaking.” his eyes drink you in, from head to toe, even though they’ve been roaming your frame since you first caught his attention. the heir simply cannot get enough. “but you get told that a lot, yes?”

“thank you.” your lips spread into a small smile, one hand slipping into his larger one as the other pulls off your sunnies, sticking one of the arms down into your top. “i’m ___” jean bore a lean swimmer’s build, dark navy beach shorts hung low on his hips, and his tanned skin decorated with a dusting of faint, brown freckles over his body. years of private villas and yachts, no doubt. he was impossibly tall, too, you find yourself having to gently tilt your head back to see his face fully. it was cute from afar, maturely handsome up close. was that a faint hint of a mustache? it was hot.

jean repeats your name slowly, enjoying the feeling of that line of syllables rolling off his tongue. “i’d love to get to know you more. ___, you’re so beautiful. i have to impress you somehow. name it,” his other hand comes up to rest of top of yours, successfully encasing it in a gentle hold. an excuse to touch you just a little bit more. “i’ll make it happen.”

your smile becomes a grin, and your dark eyes glint mischievously under your delicate lashes. one quick test, because where’s the fun in not initiating one? you just want to see what he’d say, pick at his brain. what sweet words will he spin from his golden cords now? “but jean,” you begin softly, “what if i was the type of girl that liked a man that took control? told me we were doing this, at this time, on this day, and in my prettiest red dress?”

“it’d be rude, ___, at least in my eyes, to so quickly assume i had a right to your time, and drag you around this way and that. allow me the privilege of occupying your time, and space.”

before you can catch it, one of your expertly threaded and sculpted eyebrows quirks up in mild surprise. you beckon him a bit closer to your face with a wave of your acrylics. “good answer,” you tease, honeyed voice playful and whispery. “phone? i can put my number in, and we can talk about how you can try to romance me when i have my schedules laid out in front of me.” you watch as he fishes the device out of his shorts pocket.

you were captivating afar, but up close with your tawny skin soft, glittery, and emanating an intoxicating vanilla scent, your dark eyes glistening with mirth and playfulness… it makes jean’s body go into some type of shock, his heart plummeting to his feet and his blood running cold but racing through his veins at the same time.

“well then,” you chime as you save your digits into the millionaire’s phone, the contact simply your name with no bells or whistles to adorn it. “i hope we can get to know each soon, mr. kirschtein.”

jean thinks that pearly white smile will be the death of him.

…

every year, no matter what, your father throws his annual christmas party. you long assumed that it brings him a special type of happiness because your normally humble father goes all out for them, each year being better than the last. he flies out the best chefs in the world to cook for hours, orders the tallest, greenest tree for the foyer, and has the house cleaned til someone could check their reflection in the perfect marble floors. when it comes to this, the man skimps on nothing.

you take it upon yourself to make the most of it, requesting custom design dresses from the most exclusive sewing tables over in Europe, shoes fresh from the runway. only the very best for you, the heiress, the crème de la crème, the girl who has never known the word no.

“dance with me?”

you had been absentmindedly swirling your wine glass by its delicate stem, attempting to place its origin (red, tart-like with its cranberry flavor and a strange orange bite near the end), when you’re approached. once you turn your head, you’re meet with striking green eyes and a sharp little smile.

“you looked bored, and that’s what these parties are for, right?”

eren yeager, the german-american son of grisha and carla yeager, 2nd generation genius neurosurgeon with a net worth in the 7 figures, and the just-as-talented, third generation wedding gown designer. according to the rumor mill, after graduating in the top of class in one of those ivy’s upstate, he gallivanted across the country (no, the world) as the not-so-favorable yeager son. of course, there are entirely too many eyes on the yeager clan for grisha to do too much of anything and a son can do no wrong in a doting mother’s eyes; so eren is left free to his disagreeable desires. everyone wonders how long that will last.

steely dark eyes and your naturally neutral face does nothing to deter him. you decide to indulge him, slipping your hand into his and raising up, allowing him the luxury of whisking you to the dance floor. “i guess i don’t see why not.”

“great.” his hand is soft and a little cool against your own, the woody, cedar notes of penhaligon the inimitable gently wafting off his skin and pressed shirt. unbeknownst to you, a few pairs of eyes bore into yeager’s back. the arrogance he has to whisk you away so early into the party, especially with it being his first one. if eren was the wiser, he’d revel in their envy.

there’s a handful of other couples waltzing across the floor when you two arrive. your fingers thread through his as his free hand finds a respectful place on your waist, blessed with the feeling of the smooth skin exposed by the opening in your dress.

no matter how much money your father makes, he’s an old black man at heart. old r&b plays from the expensive sound system he had installed, tevin campbell’s can we talk playing through the speakers. the irony of the situation isn’t lost on you. nonetheless, you hum nonchalantly to the tune and glide around the floor with your partner.

“i gotta ask, do you enjoy these things? or does your dad put you up to it?” your arm is held above your head and you’re spun around in a quick circle before being guided back to eren’s chest. face still impartial, you nod your head towards your five o clock, the wavy blonde strands dangling from your delicate updo tickling your face. a table teems with gifts for you and you only, bachelors from afar vying for a wisp of your attention with shiny, expensive gifts. they fail to realize that a girl like yourself isn’t so easily bought. but, it’s their money not yours, and few things in life bring you greater joy than pulling ribbon and wrapping paper from luxury brand boxes.

“of course i do. i’m not ‘put up’ to anything. i dress up, i get my presents. what isn’t there to love?” manicured hand splayed across the man’s back, you’re dipped towards the floor. you’re one to give credit where credit is due, yeager is a good dancer; the confidence in his movements isn’t a lame front and he maintains the delicate balance between taking the lead and dragging his poor partner around. since this is suddenly an interview, you have questions of your own. “when i have time to go through them, will i find your name on anything?”

“of course you will. be pretty damn rude to show up to a party empty handed. especially when it might be my only chance to get a gift for the princess.” a name your normally cringe and scrunch your nose at sounds surprisingly nice passing by his lips. he grinned boyishly. “no hints.”

“i can wait. for your sake, i hope it’s no ring. it’s going straight into the garbage.” just the thought of such a “present” makes your blood want to boil. who raised these “men”? i mean honestly, what brain dead fool buys a ring for a girl who didn’t even know his face? and expected her to wear it? you would sooner die and go to hell first.

“no way someone is that dumb. you’re fucking with me.”

“what do i have to lie for?”

"well, taking a look at these guests, i take it back. some of these bastards look dumb enough to pull a stunt like that." eren scans the array of guests over your shoulder, and you can't even feign offense for your father's sake. scanning over a guestlist for former flames and explaining why you didn't want them in attendance would take too much time, and you really didn't feel like explaining "relationship troubles" to your dad of all people. loved him as much as you did that really wasn't his business. besides, watching them shiver and skulk away from your disinterested and annoyed glance made up for everything. "are you a betting woman?"

"did you waste grisha's money on a degree in journalism?" your eyebrows furrow and eren laughs again.

"you're funny, ___. most of our peers aren't so witty. and if it so pleases her majesty, i want to bet on the odds of one of these dumbasses putting a ring under your tree." eren's green eyes stare down into yours, gleaming with playfulness, mirth, and confidence. "what do you say? someone does, and we can go on a date, just us two, and you can smile and laugh a little bit."

"and if there's no ring?"

"i'll leave you alone and fall in place in your long string of broken hearts."

luck has always been on your side. look at the family you were in born in, the riches that are your birthright! the universe has never dealt you a bad hand and surely wouldn’t start now. and worse case scenario, you hang out with one of the few men that can mark your plump lips twitch in the shadow of a giggle. “fine.” your brown eyes meet his green, and neither of the waver. “deal.”

several days later, gifts from around the globe surround you. handbags, shoes, dresses, envelopes bursting with cash; you’ll have to tell your dad you need some walls knocked down in your already spacious closet to make room for more. amidst all this, though, a godforsaken ring is gripped between your fingers. if looks could kill, it would melting and dripping from your grasp. holding it like it’s contaminated, you snap a picture to send to yeager:

‘i’m free the 3rd weekend and tuesdays.’

…

as temperatures rise again, you spend the next few months allowing jean kirstein and eren yeager the luxury of whisking you away when your schedule permits.

the former is a bit... old fashioned, in a good way! you're led off to slow paced, cozy dates; the two of you roaming italian streets, attending shows in their original opera houses, he never strayed you out of the bubble you two were born in. it was casual, soft, predictable in a good way.

eren on the other hand, spent money like it would burn through his pocket if it sat there too long. he spent money like a man who just felt its crispness in his palms and was addicted to the feeling, knowing deep down it'd never stop flowing for him. you're frequenting the night scene in your tight, revealing dress, his firm hands on your hips as you two grind to the pounding beats. shopping spree dates that lasted all day, if your hand so much as brushed it, it was bought, packaged up, and in the car. spontaneous flights abroad, stealing you away for weekends. it was exhilarating.

they both provide the things you're looking for. jean is the type of man you imagine yourself settling down with one day, when the whole young and turnt shtick melts away into something more domestic and slow paced. he has gentle hands and treats you so delicately, softly. his reliability will be something you can learn to lean on and need.

eren could possibly be that type of man too, but for now he has a fire, impulses that keep you oh so entertained. having everything in the world gets boring, and eren brings that spark that you crave.

you ruminate at your vanity. hair tied down and tucked away under a silky soft bonnet, you run your gua sha across your moisturized face, long sweeping strokes that end with a gentle tug. eye masks rest on your face, your feet clothed by a exfoliating mask, and a fluffy robe envelopes your body. you stare at your reflection, you're the only one who gets you.

you're really at a crossroads. you choosing between something is unheard of. you're ___, you get everything you deserve and want tenfold. you like jean, you like eren. the way they look at you with such adoration, how their hands and lips caress your body, the sweets words they declare, and how every promise they've made to you remains unbroken, oh how they must certainly feel the same for you.

as greedy as it may make you sound, you want both. your cake and to eat it too. two of your richest peers fawning over you day in and day out, them caring for you and you caring for them. them loving you, and you loving them. it’s a dream that will be your reality.

…

after a long day at sea on one of many jean’s yachts, the sun beaming down on not only the beautiful blue water but the two of you, entangled in each other’s arms, docks at the private harbor.

you’re running your fingers through your french curl braids as jean talks to one of the dock’s attendees, slightly sleepy from your sunbathing session. the gentle breeze of the day brings the smell of saltwater up to your nostrils and you hear seagulls squawking from spots on the wooden posts. obviously, a day at the water leaves you craving seafood, juicy lobster tails with a decadent pasta on the side. your daydreams of the soon to be dinner are interrupted by an extremely familiar “yo!”

heads turn, and it’s none other than eren striding across the dock’s walkway towards where you and jean are standing. his green eyes shine at the sight of you, the hot pink of your two piece bikini a perfect contrast to your skin and showing curves and bends he’d worship for the rest of his life. oh, and jean’s here too.

another woman might falter, her heart catching in her throat and sweat beading up on her flesh as her suitors stand before her, but you’re the epitome of calm, brown eyes smoothly meeting eren’s. there’s no ring on your finger, and besides, you know what you’re after right now.

“haven’t seen you in a while, yeager.” knowing it’d be cliche, jean fights against the urge to wrap a protective arm around your waist. “done gallivanting the world?”

“seen all there is to see kirschtein, and you say that like it’s insult. what use is money if it just sits in accounts collecting dust.” eren looks at you again, god you’re a sight for sore eyes. “especially when there’s a woman like her to spend it on.”

jean’s eyes can’t help but to roll. what a cornball. “well, good chat, but ___ and i are on a little time crunch. i’m taking her to niccolo’s, especially after being on the water.” his hand slips into yours, taking charge but not tugging you along. you’d be lying if you said you didn’t like this side of him.

“well, now that you mention it, i could go for some niccolo’s too.” eren’s grin is shit-eating. what a cute dynamic these too have, one you know has a bit more bite to it when a lady isn’t in their presence. “how about i join? matter of fact, my treat.”

“that won’t be necessary.”

“i insist.”

“you two would argue all day if i let you,” you interrupt this small tussle, and now their attention is back on you. a manicured hand raises up to cover your small yawn. “like an old married couple.”

“it’s all in good fun,” eren’s shoulder nudges jean, and if jean had lasers for eyes, the youngest heir to yeager fortune would be a pile of dust before your feet. “we go way back.”

jean ignores him entirely, but eren finds it hilarious. “what he’s suggesting is insane, ___.”

you give a gentle shrug of your shoulder, coyness at the ready. “it’s nothing serious, it’s a lunch date between friends, and i bet you’d like to catch up.”

jean’s jaw tenses. he turns to you completely as eren looks on curiously. “i think it’s a sign that you say that, ___. i’ve been meaning to have this conversation with you for a while. yes, we are friends, but i want to be more with you.”

this moment, with the waves crashing across the dock, the sun illuminating the two of you, jean clasping your hands tight, would’ve been a soft, tender, picturesque one had it not been for eren’s booming laughter.

“oh, so now this is a pissing contest, huh, jean? well, since we’re confessing feelings, i have my own to speak for you.” his outburst breaks your gaze, and you and jean both turn in unison. “___, i want you to be my girlfriend, and i’ve felt this way for a while. i’ve been waiting for just the perfect moment, but i can’t let this jack-off take this one for himself right?” comically, you’re put between them, each of your hands in theirs.

“i…” this takes tact, a delicate way of stringing together words and honestly, with their eyes boring into yours, you find yourself falling just a touch short.

“i respect any decision you make,” jean assures.

“___, i will do anything for you,” eren promises.

any decision. anything.

you bit your bottom lip, hands minutely twitching in their clasp. you lean in neither direction, at the center of them. “any?”

and then there’s a beat of silence. and everyone’s looking at each other. this feels like a scene in a sitcom, something that should be accompanied with a laugh-track, but there’s no closed mouth that’s been fed.

“because in the time i’ve gotten to know both of you, i’ve begin to care for both of you. and i’ve made great memories with the two of you. i know i could make even more. i don’t value any time spent with you over each other’s.” your voice shakes just a tiny, tiny bit, vulnerability creeping in. “you too make me… so happy.”

eren cuts the silence first, ever the impulsive one. “i’ll do it.”

“you cut me off,” jean quickly interjects. eren really puts him on his toes, ignites an aggressive fire deep within, steps on just the right nerves. “i’m doing it too.”

“i said i’d do anything.”

“and i said i’d respect any decision.”

“okay!” you voice crashes down like a gavel. “okay. i’m glad that you two are hearing me out,” a smile tugs at your glossed lips, this feels so easy and lighthearted, a stark contrast from the seriousness you impose upon yourself. already, you feel yourself loosening up, because the two of them bring out the true, relaxed you like nothing else can. “but for our sanity the bickering needs to come down a notch before we all kill each other, yeah?”

two strong pairs of arms envelop you. it takes some effort, but you wrap your own around the two of them. three heads together, you find yourselves laughing. a weight eases of your shoulders, but not because you got your way, but because you know this is the death of a mask created by the circle you were born in. a mask that hides the love you can feel in an attempt to guard it.

“well, we won’t kill you.”

nov 13. 2021. nov 9. 2023. i nearly gave up. i almost threw in the towel. but goddammit she’s done. praise god.

[uzurimisery]

translation: kiss me. / hinata shouyou x reader

Hinata Shouyou’s schedule was packed. Delivery job, language tutoring by his roommate, and practice. Short on cash and not wanting to burden his mom, he picks up another job at an acai shop. It’s mundane and boring but at least he’s got a cute coworker to keep him company and help practice his language skills. 

A/N: This fic has a language barrier written in Hinata’s POV. The words he doesn’t know, if not translated by someone in the story, will appear as “.....” to signify he doesn’t know what’s being said. Reader is Brazilian!

Part of the @interstellar-inn 'Help Wanted' mini-collab

“Hey, Shouyou!” The bells on the door jingled as Hinata threw it open with his shoulder, a volleyball under one arm and his bike helmet under the other, jumbling his volleyball gear between the two.

It was hot out today. 35 degrees Celsius, something like 88 if he did the math to convert it to Fahrenheit, sweat dripping down his neck and past his tank top, riveting down his freckle-covered back. You were behind the counter, in tiny shorts, a white short-sleeve button-up left open, and a blue bikini underneath, scooping acai puree into a to-go bowl, most likely a delivery or pickup order. He liked this one the most on you. The shade just complimented your skin so nicely. Made it seem golden as it shone from the layers of body butter and SPF you had on.

“Oh my god, it’s so hot today!” You grinned at him as he moved past the counter to the backroom to drop off his stuff.

God, you were so cute bobbing along to the Bossa Nova playlist you always changed it to at the start of your shift. While you didn’t mind the Sertanejo that the owner, your aunt, had going, you always said that Bossa Nova was better, more lively, and reminded you of childhood joy and dancing around with your Avô in your grandparents' apartment in Sao Paulo every summer you’d go and see them. You told him he’d understand it better the longer he lived here and became “Brazilian” like you.

Hinata chucked to himself as he returned to the front, free of all his baggage, a towel now draped over his shoulder.

“How are you?” Every time you looked at him and gave a gummy smile like that he thought his heart might burst as the apples of your cheeks eclipsed your eyes, joy palpable in your every feature.

He leaned against the counter as he answered “I’m good, you?”

You turned, reaching to scoop some coconut onto the bowl, referencing your order ticket. “I’m great now that you’re here!” you replied, still moving to the rhythm of Agua de Beber, the movement of your hips drawing his eyes.

You really had the moves. 

“How was practice?” you were facing him again, an eyebrow raised, totally catching him in the act of staring at your ass. A flush crept across his face, hoping that you hadn’t caught a good enough look at him as he came into the shop and he could blame it on the sun.

“It was good! Heitor and I are really getting into the uh…” he trailed off, searching for the word.

“Fluxo?” You supplied, dumping the coconut into the left side of the bowl, next to the bananas. You were always so systematic with how you constructed the bowls. Hinata’s focus was distracted as you turned to the back wall, standing on your tippy toes shorts riding up a bit, reaching for the milk powder. He liked the way your legs looked.

“Huh?” He moved quickly and grabbed it for you. Every day he was glad your aunt had it on a top shelf. 

“Thank you, ninja,” You giggled as you took the container and scooped out some powder. “Fluxo. You know? Like a river.” 

Hinata thought for a second, going through his context clues, piecing together the meaning of the word bit by bit.

“Oh!” It clicked. “Flow! Like a river.”

“Exactly.” He liked it when he got things right, your praise was a dopamine rush. The corners of your eyes crinkling with warmth. It made him feel like he was on top of the world.

“Hey, maybe you could come to our next game?” Hinata suggested, feeling a little bolder from your giggles, a hand still coming to scratch the back of his neck.

“I’d love that!” Your eyes lit up as you replied. “Let me know when and where?” 

“I will.” The promise was easy, the thought of you sitting on the sidelines cheering him on. If he’d won maybe he’d convince you to go get dinner with him too. 

The work day continued normally, the sun dipping lower in the sky, the two of you beginning to wrap up closing as it did. The golden glow seeped through the windows as you wiped down the counter. So mundane, but Hinata swore you never looked prettier. Stray curls in your face, a few caressing your neck. You had thrown your hair up during the middle of the shift, complaining how your neck was too hot with it down. 

He couldn’t take his eyes off you, even as he stacked the chairs together, flipping them upside down on the tables so he could mop. The way you moved, the gentle concentration on your face as you cleaned and organized. It made his heart flutter like crazy. Gave him the same adrenaline rush as being on the court almost. 

As the last customers left,  the two of you wrapped up cleaning. A comfortable silence between you punctuated by the soft musings of Elis Regina in the background. 

“Almost done,” you called out, pulling the cash from the register and depositing it in the safe. “Ready for the beach?”

“Always.” He grabbed his stuff from the back, leaving his volleyball gear for morning practice near the shop, and the two of you walked out of the shop. The two of you were going to a beach party Heitor organized. 

Your excitement was contagious to him. “Me neither. Let’s get out of here!” You cheered as you locked up the shop.

The walk to the party was a short 15 minutes. It was near where they normally practiced, but a span of umbrellas and fold-up tables were set up there. 20 or so people were strewn about, some were drinking under umbrellas, a caipirinha being passed around,  while others were dancing on the makeshift dance floor to some funk that had been created. Their laughter and conversations blending with the music. The small get-together was in full swing, the energy high. 

“Hey Heitor! What the hell is this music? Fuck, …… some better funk.” You called out as Hinata and you met up with Heitor, reaching out to hug him, followed by hugging Nice. Hinata missed a few words but could tell you were complaining about the music.

“........ my choice of music, huh?” Heitor threw his head back as he laughed, clapping Hinata on the back with a short greeting. 

You rolled your eyes, slipping off your button-up. “Because your taste in music is shit!”

“That’s it!” Heitor sprung into action and began chasing you around the party, sand flying up behind you. 

Nice laughed next to Hinata and turned to hug him, kissing his cheeks in greeting. “They’re always like this. Cats and dogs I swear.”

“Yeah, they are.” Hinata watched on as you and Heitor continued your chase. The party seemed more vibrant and full of life as you ran around screaming at Heitor. He didn’t understand a lot of what you said, but your energy was infectious with everyone picking up on it, laughing a lot more. Hinata couldn’t help but laugh along.

After a few minutes, you came to hide behind Hinata, your chest pressing against his back as you heaved heavy breaths. “Help me, he’s a monster.” Your words were breathy, ghosting around the shell of his ear. 

“I’m not a monster! You are just …… work out…… my teammate!” Heitor caught up to you, hardly labored from chasing you around.

He didn’t know what took over him, but he pivoted, bent at the waist, scooped you up over his shoulder, and began running away from Heitor. Nice fell over laughing as Heitor threw his arms up in betrayal. Hinata had one hand on your waist, the other placed on the back of your upper thighs, as you laughed as best you could while being breathless. 

Hinata didn’t run far, about 10 meters away from the party before setting you down. You dramatically fell back, letting yourself collapse against the warm sand, spread out like a starfish.

“My hero! Thanks for saving me,” You were still breathless as you spoke, smiling up at him. 

“Anytime.” He chuckled.

You reached up grabbing his hand to pull him down with you. He was scared of landing on top of you as he went down so he twisted his body to try and avoid it. But by some strain of misfortune, he moved in just a way that left him landing above you, hands catching himself, hitting the sand near your head, his knees landing between your legs. Caging you under him.

For a moment, the music and chatter of the party faded away as he stared down at you, his breath mixing with yours. You were so pretty. Big-eyed staring up at him, lips glossed and slightly parted. He was so close he could see all the little imperfections on your skin that made you so human.  His heartbeat picked up, the unexpected closeness setting him off. 

“Sorry,” he murmured, voice barely above a whisper but making no move to get off of you. 

Your eyes darted down to his lips as he wetted them, the pink of his tongue visible for a second. 

“It’s okay.”

Neither one of you moved, afraid to break the spell. Hinata swore he could feel electricity sparking in the air. That he could feel his pulse echoing in his heart, mimicking the rapid beat of the far-off music. He traced the contours of your face, committing the small details to memory, feeling the rise and fall of your chest. 

His hands itched to move, to touch you more, to wrap around your own. The intensity he felt was mirrored in your eyes. He wanted to close the gap. Feel the soft press of your lips against his own as you lay there wrapped by the ocean breeze. 

“Posso te beijar?” You asked him, eyes switching between his own eyes and lips.

He was so frazzled. “I, uh, I don’t understand.” God he wished he was fluent.

You grinned, your hand reaching up to cup his cheek. “I’ll show you.” 

He nodded, his heart beating fast. “Yes please.” He breathed his voice like a whisper.

The space between you disappeared as your lips met his in a tender kiss. It was soft and sweet and tasted like your vanilla lip gloss. The gentle press of your lips sent a shiver down his spine, the months of yearning settling in his belly as a swarm of butterflies. 

©️ uzuzrimisery

[wen-kexing-apologist]

LET’S TALK ABOUT SEX!!!!!!

HELLO AND WELCOME TO

ANALYSIS ESSAY NUMBER 69!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Yes. Yes I have, in fact, written 69 ridiculously long pieces (and some surprisingly short) pieces on my silly little gay shows. This is, obviously, not the first time that I have done a scene breakdown, and it’s certainly not the first time I’ve done a sex scene breakdown, BUT I have been itching to write about this one since I watched I Feel You Linger in the Air Episode 8. There was no way in hell I was going to let essay #69 go unrelated to sex, so I had to wait until another essay (thank you Hypocrisy) could be written and posted. 

In a feat of truly perfect timing, @waitmyturtles sent me an ask about what other physicality (besides hands) I look at to try to understand a character’s psyche, I gave her my wayyyy to long explanation of what it is I look for, and not even 24 hours later the most perfect example of expertly executed physicality graced my screen with the opening scene of I Feel You Linger in the Air. So, I am dedicating this post to Turtles...

and I'm writing a sex scene break down!

We open with Yai and Jom rushing in to the scene, Jom being pulled by Yai. Which, I mean any forearm, wrist, or hand holding that Yai and Jom are doing is not technically visible to us (it’s happening just off screen) but we know Jom is being pulled at first because of how Bright and Nonkul are moving, Yai enters the room first and Jom is practically tripping to catch up with his motion, but beyond that we know Jom’s being dragged by Yai because of the way Bright and Nonkul’s upper arms are pressed together. We’re off to a great start in Bright and Nonkul’s performance already because of how glued Yai and Jom seem to be. With just the way they are holding their bodies the tension is already palpable, but the magnetism between the two of them is heightened by the fact that the actors are ensuring Yai and Jom don’t break eye contact. Because of this, even though as the motion continues, and they turn to face each other having now placed physical distance between them, you can tell they are still drawn in. You aren’t losing any ounce of desire when they are parted. 

The way Bright stands, the way Bright has set his face, angled his head, etc. makes Yai seem like he is looking at Jom as if hypnotized, transfixed, enamored. Both of them are just staring at each other, and Jom’s hand slowly slides up Yai’s arm and Yai takes that movement as a sign to come in close, and while Yai was initially shy about (presumably) getting aroused during the olive oil scene in Episode 7, he is horny and ready to fuck now at the beginning of Episode 8 and so he just fucking goes for it. 

You know when Yai is about to lean in for the kiss, because in a fraction of a second he breaks eye contact with Jom to look down towards his lips. But before Yai performs any additional progression towards kissing, Bright plays out the brief moment where Yai is gathering his courage. How do I know Yai is taking a second to psyche himself up? Because Yai pauses, he closes his mouth a little tighter, looks down at Jom’s lips, and he swallows hard. That’s him psyching himself up to just dive right in and go for the kiss. And he doesn’t have to hesitate long, and he doesn’t have to be chaste with this kiss cause Jom and Yai got over the initial tension point when they made out at the end of Episode 7. Without saying a word, we know Jom is In To This Kiss, because he immediately fixes his lips around Yai’s upper lip. Jom meanwhile is standing almost ramrod stiff and straight like he usually does

@shortpplfedup says when she’s looking at kisses, she’s looking for sticky kisses. My own interpretation of sticky kisses includes moments like in The Eclipse where there is a little line of spit that keeps the kiss lingering for just a second more. In this case, what I would personally consider a sticky kiss is a result of Yai pulling at Jom’s lower lip when Jom pulls his head back slightly for some air and to change the angle of his head. There is no space between them, in fact Yai so thoroughly wants to fuck Jom, that Jom is almost tipping over with how much Yai is trying to press them together. Yai’s hand is roaming, moving up and down Jom’s arm, while Jom is standing there, his hands are still, one wrapped around Yai’s arm, one resting at his neck. Jom is meeting all of Yai’s energy and excitement by standing firm. Because if he did not, it’s possible he’d topple over.

And as characters this makes sense. Jom has been in at least one relationship before, there is no way he hasn’t been sexually active in the past. Jom is the more experienced one in this relationship, and so he is going to have to be the support Yai leans on for his first sexual encounter, even if we don’t see that far in to their evening. 

gif by @alejunsu

And this works for Yai and Jom’s characterization as well. Jom was the one with more hesitations around beginning a relationship with Yai. Jom is much more tuned in to the potential consequences of being queer in this time period. And it’s not that Yai isn’t, it’s just that he’s much more caught up in his own little world, and his feelings for Jom that he isn’t as rigid about how he engages in intimacy. 

This kiss is tight, and solid, and you can hear the breathiness between them when they start the kiss. It’s believably impactful to them, as in the combination of eye contact, touch, posture, and even breath here makes me believe they are attracted to each other, and really fucking horny. And I swear I can almost feel Yai and Jom’s heart rates increase with how well Bright and Nonkul are selling this performance.

Yai is ready to fuck like, yesterday, but Jom doesn’t want him completely rushing in to the sex, and I can tell this because Jom pulls back, breaks off the kiss, and starts talking to Yai about the rain, about the party, these little reminders that they have places to be, and people to see, and they can’t afford to get caught. Bright’s face here, in the moments right after Jom pulls away are so intense. The way he furrows his brow ever so slightly. The way his eyes are see in to Jom, the parting of his lips. Bright is, to me, selling extremely well the fact that despite the fact they have once again separated, Yai is still in that kiss. And there is this beautiful little moment from Nonkul too where he breathes out like his mouth is on fire or he’s trying to catch his breath. Nonkul has Jom pat Yai’s arm once, because he’s trying to lighten the mood a little bit, to put more emotional space between them. Jom is the one stopping the kiss, Nonkul is the one that has to sell the idea that Jom is both slowing down the encounter, and also still worrying about being caught. 

And you know where Yai’s response is going to go “Forget it, Jom. Now there’s only two of us in the house“ because of the intensity by which Yai looks at Jom. He’s transfixed, and during this conversation with Jom, Yai’s eyes constantly slip downwards towards Jom’s lips, like…practically every second. Yai goes in to continue that kiss, with an intensity that I do not think he’s ready for when it comes to actually having sex for the first time. In part because this kid does not know what he is doing, and Jom does. And Jom hasn’t had sex for quite some time because he was in a monogamous relationship with a partner who was overseas. So he puts his hand up to Yai’s face, and presses in gently, making a little hmm sound as he does it. 

gif by @charlidos

Again, Nonkul keeps Jom stiff, his fingers are all straight, there is not even a whisper of a relaxed curve to them. Which tracks for Jom, because everything we have ever seen in the way Jom exists, in the way Jom moves, is very rigid. And it stops Yai immediately. Jom is looking straight at Yai, and Yai is looking straight at Jom’s lips. But this entire action feels familiar and comfortable because they have developed a trust in one another, and because Yai cares enough about Jom to stop and listen at the slightest indication. Yai pulls back and that’s where Nonkul helps assert that Jom is in fact on the same page, is interested and enthusiastic about having sex with Yai, and he’s just trying to shift the energy and speed of their encounter, because the second Yai stops, and Jom is about to offer up a suggestion, Nonkul turns Jom’s gaze directly to Yai’s lips and he lets them linger there for far too long, his fingers too continue to rest gently on Yai’s lips long after they are needed.

Jom doesn’t look Yai in the eyes again until he says “You’re soaking wet, Khun Yai. Why don’t you let me undress you, so you don’t catch cold?” Jom leans in closer when he says this, he whispers in a way that is intended to seduce Yai. And we see some more physical changes in the way Nonkul is carrying Jom. Jom’s eyes are alight and happy, there is this soft and extremely fond smile turning up the edges of his lips. And we see him relaxing slightly in to this moment because his fingers finally relax and curl up in their resting place on Yai’s shoulder. 

Nonkul has Jom slightly shifting his head so Jom is looking up at Yai more through the top of his eyelashes to be more alluring. He has this soft, fond smile on his face. And it is in the motions and movements like this one where I see what Nonkul was saying about this being the most femme he has ever had to perform (even though, I think we can all agree Jom isn’t really femme). Bright has Yai pick up that small smile too, and he shows that Yai is indeed very interested in Jom helping remove his clothes, because Bright ensures that Yai cannot stop looking at Jom’s lips. 

gif by @wanderlust-in-my-soul

You should watch this clip

And just like that Jom has changed the pace of the evening. With a little whisper, and with some very slow, intentional movements in the way he takes off Yai’s tux jacket. And because Yai and Jom have had so much physical space between them for the past thirty seconds, it is time to re-establish Yai and Jom’s needs for physical closeness. Bright and Nonkul establish a sense of familiarity and comfortability in how Yai and Jom interact with each other’s bodies. Nonkul does so in the way he has Jom pull Yai close to him to take off his bowtie. It is almost as if they are hugging one another, and in part they are, or at least they are providing each other a little space to rest. 

And we know their arousal, their desire to fuck isn’t stalled or stunted by any interruption. Jom pumps the brakes a bit, but their desire, their attraction, is palpable. And that vibe is assisted by Bright having Yai lean in deeper, by having Yai turn his head and move slowly toward Jom’s neck as if drawn by string or magnet while Jom is fiddling with his bowtie. And within the span of a few seconds, Yai goes from drinking in Jom’s scent to pressing a soft kiss or two to his neck. And Jom’s enjoyment of that action is shown in the way Nonkul has Jom close his eyes briefly in pleasure, and his head jerks a bit to the side as if allowing Yai better access to his neck while he’s fiddling with the clasp of Yai’s bowtie. 

gif by @wanderlust-in-my-soul

The seduction continues as Nonkul and Bright ensure their characters do not break eye contact one the bowtie comes off. I don’t even really know how they are doing it, but there is such a clear internal monologue of impure thoughts cycling through both their heads as Jom starts unbuttoning the collar of Yai’s shirt, while Jom’s still staring, eyes shining brightly, directly at Yai. And Bright plays Yai’s impatience very well, because he lets Yai still wait calmly, while also showing Yai cannot bare to be this far apart (like…two inches) from Jom, so he rests a hand on Jom’s neck creating a moment of skin to skin contact, but he has to take Jom in so he only lets his hand stay for a second, before he’s moving it in lines around Jom’s body.

Here again, is why I pay so much attention to their hands. Because Yai has been the far more relaxed character, and so when he puts his hand on Jom’s neck, his fingers curve, when he traces lines down Jom’s torso, his hand is curled almost into a fist. And there is just this beautiful moment of observation to me, where Jom begins to remove Yai’s pants, and is focused on the task, and Yai is just watching Jom, watching him focus. It is only when the pants have been unbuttoned that Yai joins Jom in looking downwards. 

These characters cannot help but be drawn to each other, the tension between them is building and builidng and Bright and Nonkul show that by having Yai and Jom get, with Jom’s eyes closed, so close to one another they could have stolen a kiss. So close in fact that their torsos are touching, they are pressed up against each other while Jom works pulling Yai’s pants down. And even if they don’t bring their faces together, they don’t steal those kisses, they don’t break the tension, they are certainly breathing each other’s air. 

“Let me do the same for you,” Yai says and God these two are so good at making their need for each other palpable. As Yai begins to unbutton Jom’s shirt both Yai and Jom’s eyes are moving rapidly, up, down, up, down, lower, lowerrr, back together, glued to the other’s face. 

gif by @wanderlust-in-my-soul

Jom gives the shyest smile at having Yai care for him, concerned about Jom catching a fever, and being oh so careful with removing his shirt. And here we see Nonkul allow Jom to relinquish some control and let go of some tension in the evening, because Jom drops his hand from Yai’s chest and let’s Yai unbutton and pull off his shirt. A moment for Yai to stand on his own, rather than to have support from Jom like he has had during their kiss and during their foreplay as it were. Yai moves for Jom’s pants, removes them, and they are soaking each other in, reveling in the feeling of one another. But we can’t have Jom wait too long for physical contact, because we want these characters to touch each other, because these characters want to touch each other. So we get a beautiful moment of Jom’s hands coming to wrap around Yai’s wrist, once again relaxed, and we see the band Yai tied around Jom’s wrist in Episode 2, a tangible, visible, item that reminds us all of their connection. 

I think we joke a lot about “exploring each other’s bodies” as a line. But that is objectively what they are doing here, in this gorgeous gorgeous moment of hands, of fingers sliding all over each other. They are gentle, light, and I can easily get the sense through the screen that their skin is on fire wherever they’re bodies have met. And Bright adds a piece of characterization to Yai, by having Yai hold Jom’s hand the same way that he did when he was drunkenly reciting poetry with the biggest heart eyes the world has ever seen. And he is doing the thing that, in my opinion, makes or breaks the believability of attraction, care, or romance between characters, which is that Bright has Yai move his thumb, drawing these tight little lines on the top of Jom’s hand while they are holding hands. It is truly not much of an understatement at all to say that if two characters are holding hands, I will be looking to see what their hands are doing. Are they staying stationary, or are there these little absentminded movements that sell the idea that these characters are thinking about each other, and enjoying the feeling of one another, rather than just performing the action of holding hands. 

gif by @wanderlust-in-my-soul

In case we ever wanted to underestimate the importance of microexpressions and micromovements, we can’t, those are the things that really make or break a performance. (And for those who may have difficulty reading facial expressions, I get you, trust me, I’ve said it before but it can be really really hard for me to read microexpressions in actors, which is why I will often rewatch scenes, or watch other shows the actors or in, or like I did for this write up I slowed that shit down to half speed so I could watch for every movement, and rewound in 5 second intervals like 20 times to make sure I wasn’t missing anything.)

But they look like they are studying, committing to memory, Yai especially. Because while Nonkul has Jom spend most of this moment staring at one spot on Yai’s chest, Bright has Yai’s eyes follow the movement of his hands.Yai leans in and Nonkul has Jom swallow hard, and lean in slightly for a kiss. Bright has Yai keep moving, his lips locking on Jom’s shoulder, and moving up his neck, because the tension has almost reached its breaking point, and they both know what will happen the second their lips meet. So they delay, they let the tension build. They pull each other close, they hold each other tightly, you can see it in the way they move, the way their muscles tense. And as they face each other, with their desire finally starting to boil over, Yai works his way back to Jom’s lips slowly, he’s caught on to the pace Jom set. There is a light, soft, and quick kiss to Jom’s cheek, and then a second attempt by Yai to kiss Jom’s cheek or nose, that Nonkul interrupts by having Jom now be the impatient one, turning his head so Yai’s kiss slides to meet Jom’s upper lip. 

And then the tension finally breaks, the desire overwhelms them, and they are forceful with their kisses, and pulling each other close. Nonkul is showing how in to this Jom is in the way he lets Jom melt in to this kiss. How he has Jom pull himself so fully in to Yai’s arms, so they are chest to chest without any room between them. 

gif by @wanderlust-in-my-soul

And Jom is kind of a tense and awkward person in general, so it makes so much sense to me, as a character that Jom’s fingers would at this point stay stiff and straight, because we are still progressing in to a part of the evening Yai may need more support in. Jom is certainly far more relaxed as a person when he’s with Yai, but I don’t think he would be fully able to relax in to the sex. Hell, he can’t even relax in bed afterwards because he sees himself in the mirror. But just in the way Jom holds himself, in the way Jom smiles, in the way he pulls Yai in, we know that being around Yai is changing him. That he is generally more relaxed when they share space, that he is happier when Yai is near, and we know that Jom is very ready to fuck, he’s just also more aware of the potential consequences of getting caught. 

Yai leads them to bed, and if we hold Jom and Jom’s posture as acting almost as a support for Yai, then it is very critical and important in my eyes, that Yai uses the bedpost to steady himself as he lays Jom out on the bed. Yai is learning how to support himself. Jom lays underneath him, and as far as we know he’s keeping his hands firmly on the back of Yai’s neck. Grasping on to him like he doesn’t want to let go, while Yai traces random lines across Jom’s arms, torso, and neck. And when they pull away, we know that Jom is very in to everything that is going on, and that he’s starting to lose himself a bit in the feeling of this, because Nonkul has Jom wait a few seconds to open his eyes and look up at Yai after they break apart. Meanwhile, Bright maintains Yai’s absolute obsession with Jom, by having Yai staring directly at Jom while Jom’s eyes are still closed. Study him, observing his reactions, ensuring that Jom is feeling pleasure. And the sexual tension isn’t ruined by yet another physical separation, even as they are not actively kissing in that moment, their progression towards sex does not feel like it is coming to an end. And that has to do with the fact that Jom is still running his hand along Yai’s neck, lacing his fingers through Yai’s hair, with his fingers relaxed.  

gif by @wanderlust-in-my-soul

When they confess their love for one another, Nonkul has Jom swallow hard, hearing Yai tell him he loves him, fighting back a small smile. And Bright really commits to showing the intimacy that has developed between Jom and Yai in the way he has Yai press kisses to the inside of Jom’s palm, to his knuckles, up his arm, and back to his neck. And like I said above, Nonkul sells the effect of that electricity between Yai and Jom in these little micromovements, in the way Jom’s finger dig slightly in to Yai’s cheek, and the way his thumb twitches when Yai presses a kiss to his knuckles, and the way his fingers flex (a la Pride and Prejudice [2005] if you ask me). And he does the same as Yai kisses up his arm and to his neck, in the way Nonkul has Jom close his eyes, and press his lips together, and tilt his head slightly upwards.

And that’s it, that’s the entire nearly five minute scene. I promise I am trying to get better about my essay lengths, but I think the level of work that goes in to these moments are deserving of being discussed in detail. Nonkul in an interview said he views acting like a sport, and I think he’s fucking right. The level of knowledge and control you have over your body to sell scenes like this one, to make people believe in the romance, is super fucking hard. 

gif by @pharawee (using this gif as an example of a bunch of small movements Bright and Nonkul do that sell Yai and Jom's love for one another) I for one believe Jom and Yai love each other, want each other, are drawn to one another, and that is 100% because of Nonkul and Bright’s performances. And they have a really fucking hard job in part because Tee Bundit is not really a romance guy. Yai and Jom’s love for one another is the emotional backbone of this show, but the story isn’t focused on the romance itself, it’s focused on Jom’s experiences as a servant, on the struggles of being queer, on the mystery of how to get home, of past Jom being haunted by his present and present Jom being haunted by his past. There are so many moving pieces in this story, but we have to feel for these characters when they are inevitably separated. The way Nonkul and Bright play this scene, has thoroughly convinced me of the care they have for one another

[jordyn-degas]

𝕊𝕚𝕟𝕔𝕖 𝕨𝕖'𝕧𝕖 𝕞𝕖𝕥

Characters: Roronoa Zoro x fem! reader

Warnings: first time writing for him - be patient with me; light smut - MDNI; Zoro fucks you against a door because why the hell not?; yes, there is some alcohol involved; yes, we also have some soft Zoro thrown in there;

Base: crew mates; time skip; mutual pining; hidden feelings; everyone knows except them; some jealousy; clumsy confessions;

Taglist: @uchihabbynic - there is literally no way in hell i'm not tagging you in this piece 😂 as a wise character would say "Nic-senpaaaaaai!" 😂

Another island. Another battle in which the Straw Hats have emerged victorious. Another night surrounded by incredibly grateful residents, dancing and singing around a beautifully assembled bonfire while being offered humongous amounts of food, drinks and sweets. For pirates that refused to be called or considered heroes, you surely enjoyed the rewards.

“Do you think I can get his attention?” golden hair strands twirled in between manicured fingers, voice faltering with each note as nervousness washed over it — two women basked into the bonfire’s glow, gazes set on a very specific, yet unattainable man.

“Why wouldn’t you?” another raised an eyebrow, lips smacking together softly for the freshly applied lipstick to settle — fingers rushing through baby blue locks, ruffling them a bit for a more natural look. “He would be so lucky to get the attention of such beautiful women as we are.”

There wasn’t any trace of a lie in her words, both women of a beauty hard to deny. Smooth, silky skin unraveled from under the bit of clothing they both wore, bodies formed from nothing but perfect curves that would melt a man into submission in no less than a second. Adjusting their skimpy clothing, conversation of how to get in the man’s good graces kept pinching your ears to the point of annoyance. It did not even occur to you when an unwilling chuckle slipped, two pairs of eyes holding smoldering fires turning to the sound.

“Something funny?” the blue haired one asked, noticing quickly how she was the more confident one, annoyance dripping down her tongue.

“He doesn’t care.” short reply followed by a lazy shrug was offered as you didn’t meet their gazes, solely trained on the man having the time of his life while holding a bottle. “Women are not a priority.”

“She’s ..” the blonde swallowed hard, immediately lowering her head in an attempt to show respect. “.. a Straw Hat.”

“And?” arrogant amusement peeked from behind a pair of pearly whites that outstretched into a smirk. “Just because you weren’t able to catch his eye, which I don’t blame him for, it doesn’t mean we won’t.”

Before the sharp reply you prepared could be released, two bottles of sake flew by and landed into the hands of the two women. Surprise was written all over their faces, quickly looking in between the person standing behind you and the alcohol.

“Those should be enough to have Zoro look at you for longer than three seconds.” coldness laced Nami’s voice, an arm sneaking around your shoulders protectively — feather-like steps followed shortly thereafter, Robin joining in with an expression of such calmness it could bring down to their knees the most ardent adversary.

With a last mocking laugh, the two women left to pursue the only goal for the night: Roronoa Zoro.

Gaze lingered after them, hips swaying towards where the rest of the crew sat – Sanji’s eyes popping out of their sockets the moments the two beauties arrived. Golden earrings glimmered into the fire’s light as Zoro's head tilted slightly upwards to see where the sake bottles were coming from, eyes sharply flickered along the women’s form before meeting yours across the bonfire. It lasted more than any of you could count, abruptly cut off by the blue haired woman that sat down as if knowing perfectly where to. 

“Here.” Nami’s tongue clicked, placing another bottle into your hand. “Tonight we drink and party.”

“Blind leading the blind.” Robin offered a small smile, positioning herself enough to cover the scene where your eyes stayed glued on, feminine laughter coming with way too much ease.

“What do you mean?” brows dipped into a game of confusion, not daring to open a subject that could set ablaze the entire island – slight pang of guilt hitting your chest knowing what was deeply hidden from two of your best friends.

“Y/N.” name melodically slipping past Robin’s lips as her head cocked a bit to the side, bright blue eyes holding in them a familiar glint. “We know.”

“You’ll have to be more ..” fingers unscrewing the bottle’s cork and throwing it to the ground before quickly taking three consecutive gulps, feeling right away the alcohol hitting into the pits of your stomach along with the suspicion of what Robin was hinting at. “.. specific.”

“Really?” playful smirk curved Nami’s lips, arm tightening its grip around your shoulders, nose poking ever so slightly a cheek that felt hot to the touch. “You’re in love with Zoro.”

Each crack that was carefully sealed with each minute, day, week and year passed into his presence, reopened in a matter of seconds when the sentence you hid yourself from was uttered. Eyes snapped wide open, taking a step backwards while stumbling a bit over your own feet, the feeling of airways constricting as the sake rolled down the throat faster than needed. 

“I think you were too specific.” Robin chuckled lightly, steadying you on your own two feet while Nami patted away the violent cough rocking your burning lungs.

“I was right though.” Nami casually shrugged, both witnessing fingers clutching tightly around the bottle, jaw clenching as it pulsated under the skin, faint blush pinching your cheeks. “We all kinda knew for at least a year now. It’s not as hidden as you both think.”

“Both? Nami .. not both.” head shaking slowly, you sighed deeply as bitterness pinched the roof of your mouth. “Just me. And it’s fine.”

“That’s not ..” Robin began saying, quickly catching on to what you were trying to say and wanting to dismiss it.

“Can we not make a big deal out of it right now? Tomorrow’s another day.” arm stretching out towards your best friends with a small smile. “Tonight we drink and party.”

Nami and Robin looked at each other, both wanting to protest against your previous statement before realizing this was neither the time or the place. Laughter ensued, bottle passed around to seal the secret with the liquid that was bound to unravel what has been left unsaid for years on end. Arms thrown around their shoulders, you made your way towards the rest of the Straw Hats, passing right past the two women that were trying a bit too hard to get into Zoro’s good graces as his eye followed you.

“Y/N.” Zoro’s fingers wrapped around your wrist the moment you walked by him, abruptly stopping while a heavy knot formed into the stomach. “Drink with me.”

“Not tonight.” sharp reply came almost instantaneously, gaze kept forward and settling on Sanji and Franky that looked at the two of you with wide eyes filled with surprise – never before refusing to drink with Zoro, especially after such a glorious victory, always inseparable. “You already have great company.”

Every single muscle in Zoro’s body hardened, jaw clenching shut hearing the notes of your usually calm, kind voice drenched in a coldness he only heard in battles or when Sanji was overstepping. Head tilted upwards, dark gaze falling on an empty expression, calmly watching how you took another sip from the bottle, its content pinching your cheeks even more with a pinkish shade. The tension was of an uncommon heaviness, your crew mates watching the entire ordeal in complete silence, Luffy pulling out of his mouth a large bone with a “pop”.

“Is there any room for me there, Sanji?” just like that, all the coldness dissipated into the air as a warm smile graced your features, wrist slipping away from Zoro’s grip a bit too harshly for his taste. “Drink with me!”

“That was harsh.” Franky mumbled while moving to the side to allow for you to sit in between him and Sanji, everyone else resuming their antics, feeling their eyes darting back and forth between you and Zoro for a bit longer. 

“That was perfect.” Sanji grinned from one ear to the other, arm comfortably swinging around your shoulders before raising his voice. “Y/N, we’re going to have so much fun tonight!”

Night progressed with music and laughter swirling into the air, stars and moon being witnesses to Brook’s intoxicating notes complimenting Luffy, Usopp and Chopper’s shenanigans that had the residents filled with pure joy and a fun not lived in too long. As bottles fell, so did your worries, every single thought or feeling washing with each generous gulp of sake, accepting invites to dance with the island’s residents, laughing and forgetting, even for one night, where your heart truly was.

When one man became too many, Franky threw you over his shoulder while Luffy and Nami booed him for being a fun killer. Everyone knew that being a lightweight wasn’t one of your traits, recognising with ease that it was one of those moments when letting loose was the best option – simply tipsy and pushing as deep as possible any feeling related to the one that seemed to be unable to leave your mind.

“Franky!” frown dipping into a pout, arms crossed against the chest as you eyed the cyborg with a glint of vengeance in your eyes. “I can handle myself.”

“And the last thing we need is a swordsman out of control.” Franky barked back immediately, finger pointing so close it could touch your nose. “Sake or men.”

“Sake.” you mumbled, nose scrunching up, tip of the shoe tapping lazily against the ground. “Bottle.”

“Atta girl!” Franky laughed loudly as he turned around to leave and bring the only thing that would keep you under control at the moment.

“Hmpf! The audacity!” quiet growls coming out in waves filled with displeasure, aggressively blowing a hair strand out of your face. “Who cares what Zoro thinks? He can go fu ..”

Words died out into the throat the moment a step was taken backwards, back hitting abruptly a hard surface that had your muscle tense in a split second. Warmth engulfed you from head to toe feeling an arm wrapping around the waist, a low, deep chuckle you knew all too well brushing past the ear in waves carrying amused notes. Instinctually, your hand flew upwards, pressing softly against the one that held you tightly. Heart jumped into your throat with a never felt before speed, eyes closing for a brief moment to inhale the familiar scent of steel that replaced the Summer air, grabbing and pulling mercilessly at every single sense you possessed.

“You were saying?” Zoro rasped into your ear, eyes snapping wide open realizing with how much ease you began melting against him.

“Nothing that concerns you.” voice danced between warmth and coldness, fighting to get a hold of the person you were when not around him.

“I heard my name.” arm tightened its grip around the waist, being pulled even more into him than ever before while his other hand found your left one, fingers dangerously close to intertwining.

“You heard wrong.” another sharp reply slipped past your lips, mustering up the strength to evade the most comfortable grip in which you have ever been caught, quickly taking a step forward. 

Forgetting for a mere second who the person you were talking to was, guard was let down enough for Zoro to grab your wrist and hold you in place, feeling his dark gaze burning into the back of your head. Small smile forced its way towards the corners of your mouth, fighting to stretch them out, teeth nipping into the inner cheek in an attempt to keep yourself as grounded as possible.

“Let me go, Zoro.” annoyed sigh made its way into the air, wrist wiggling into its grasp.

“Why are you so mad at me, Y/N?” the question you’ve been avoiding being thrown out into the open, wincing slightly hearing how his voice danced between anger and calmness.

“Just because I chose to drink with Sanji, and not you, it doesn’t mean I’m mad.” you chuckled lightly, choosing to play the card of an innocence he never bought into. “He deserves a chance from time to time.”

“I’ll ask again.” this time his voice dropped more than an octave, detecting with ease the threatening notes that always made your skin crawl when going at each other’s throats for whatever reason that would be squashed in less than a minute. “Why?”

Before another, either mocking or smart, answer could be uttered, Zoro quickly tugged at your arm, body being spun around in the blink of an eye. Palm slapped quietly against his broad, tanned chest, the arm which he pulled at being locked behind your back with his own, breath hitching as surprise washed over your expression the moment his satisfied one met yours.

That is when the answer to the “Why so bold in public?” question came – half-lidded eyes stared completely lost into yours, cheeks pinched with the usual alcohol blush, his usually slicked back hair now slightly ruffled as its aspect, along with its uncanny green shade, reminded you of why Sanji called him Moss Head, and an arrogant smirk was the Zoro facing you tonight.

Drunk Zoro — a sight to behold.

“I- ..” whisper of a sentence that never came faltered, too enthralled by the man holding you closer than ever before as eyes filled with want couldn’t stop from tracing along the sharpness of Zoro’s jaw, lips parting while your gaze darted across his – fingers twitched against the warmth of his chest, slowly moving upwards until they brushed across the protruding collarbone.

“Y/N.” Zoro’s voice faltered into a whisper with each letter of your name, eye closing feeling the softness of your skin against his, deep inhale being taken – as if a spell was breaking, hand stopped before it could reach his face, eyes snapping wide open, erratic heartbeats breaking out loud enough for both of you to hear.

“You were busy.” snapping harshly, words coming out in a hiss, eyes darkening as you attempted to stare down the man you never could. “I didn’t want to interrupt.”

“Busy?” Zoro’s brows fell into confusion before being taken over by a brief surprise, corners of his mouth twitching into a blooming amusement that decided to take the form of a smirk. “Hm.”

“Wipe that smirk off your face, Roronoa.” low growl erupted from the back of your lungs, swift movement changing the dynamic, forearm pressing against his throat. “And let me go.”

It was beyond impossible to maintain a defensive posture with the way Zoro’s dark gaze cut right through the core of your soul, too strong to wriggle out of his grasp while feeling being pulled even closer into the body that provided a warmth and comfort you’ve been dreaming of for far too long now. Breathing picked up its pace, heartbeats slamming against the rib cage and carving their way out, his head dipping so close lips ghosted over each other.

“You’re not going back to them.” Zoro whispered as his half-lidded gaze traced the movements of your quivering lips — danger blooming into his dark iris at the mere hint of the men surrounding you not too long ago. 

Alcohol tainted breaths embraced each other, Zoro’s right hand releasing yours from its strong grasp only to wrap around the waist, flushing your bodies together in a breathless closeness. His ever watchful eye began memorizing every imperceptible gesture of the muscles, quietly observing the haziness that began settling over your features as his left hand cupped your face, tilting it upwards a bit more only for the thumb to brush innocently along your lower lip. Shaky breath slipped into the air, each second taking away from you the ability to stay grounded into reality, dancing along the fine line that led into insanity.

Heavily intoxicated on the scent of the man you have secretly loved for as long as you could remember, mind barely able to debate between “should I?” or “I shouldn’t”, electric shockwave had your blood rushing with an unmatched speed the moment Zoro’s other hand swiftly moved away from your face to travel along the body, palm pressing against the small of your back before expertly smoothing over the curvature of your ass.

“Zoro ..” choked out whisper, desperately hanging between confusion and a hidden plea for more, brushed against his feverish lips. “What are you doing?”

Instead of being offered a sound, sane reply, you were met with fingers dipping into the flesh, Zoro’s hand grabbing a handful of your ass and squeezing far from gentle. Lips parted to let out a breathless, quiet moan that almost went unnoticed by the man.

Almost.

“Settling whatever this is.” Zoro answered the question while taking a step back, releasing your body from his strong grasp and stretching out an arm, palm all open and welcoming.

It was blatantly obvious what was about to happen, yet you could not stop taking his hand, you could not fight the rush of hotness that ravaged your body from head to toe, blood rushing through the veins at the mere thought of finally reaching the point you’ve thought about for so long while cumming all alone, all over your fingers. With each step taken towards the house where all the Straw Hats were going to spend the night, your core dripped heavily onto the underwear’s material and drenching it beyond anyone’s wild imagination. After all this time, you knew Zoro better than the back of your own hand and, the heavy tension, the burning gaze, the alluring rasp with which he talked were dead giveaways, witnessing some whenever a woman was caught in his trap – he was either going to fuck you or kill you.

There was no in between.

“Settle it how?” the dumbest question you could think of slipped out, feet stepping inside the house, Zoro’s grip on your own hand tightening hearing it, walking through the darkness while climbing the stairs to the first floor – third bedroom on the left.

“You were jealous.” the force with which the words fell off his lips slapped the breath out of you, mouth agape as the door clicked shut behind, back resting against it as Zoro’s arms were crossed against the chest, dark eye solely focused on your shocked expression. “Why?”

“I could say the same thing.” out of fear of looking weak, a mere attempt at regaining yourself, choosing to raise an eyebrow rather than answering straight. “Which means, Zoro .. Why?”

“Because you’re mine.” the reply came with a venomous possessivity you’ve never encountered before, at the same time also with a baffling ease that pushed the knees into a trembling motion.

“I’m .. what now?” walls sprung, protecting any bit of the feelings you have been trying so heavily to hide, laughter escaping into the darkness, trying to act as if the moonlight did not fall right on Zoro’s not so amused expression, dark gaze glinting with determination. “Since when?”

In the blink of an eye and one swift motion later, you found yourself propped against the door, feet no longer touching the ground as the legs were wrapped around Zoro’s waist, mini-skirt riding upwards along the thighs while the strap of your tank top fell off the shoulder. Chest began heaving heavily, one of his arms wrapped around the waist for support while the other worked its way upwards, fingers tangling into the hair.

“Since we’ve met.” Zoro’s reply came as a whisper, warm breath pinching your lips as they hovered over his – truth spilled into the silence, chin trembling holding back all the pent up emotions.

“Are you?” dancing between reality and insanity, asking the question you wanted to hear a clear, truthful, spoken answer from, both separated right now only by a simple decision. “Mine?”

Zoro’s gaze darted from your face to your lips and back again, body filled with nothing but goosebumps at the feeling of having the woman he has been in love with since he can remember into his arms, mind twisted with never ending thoughts of ravaging every part of you until there was nothing left to give. Even with an alcohol induced mindset, Zoro always knew how to keep to himself, how to not reveal more than needed. However, seeing with how much ease your lower lip quivered, holding back what he thought to be so much time wasted in bottling up feelings, taking in the beauty in which your eyes bathed while silently pleading for an answer, he decided that if there was a person that was allowed to see him unravel, that was you.

“I’m yours.” Zoro swallowed the heavy knot formed into his throat, melting against your body as each muscle relaxed to allow you to understand that there was more than meets the eye. “Since we’ve met.”

The answer you’ve been waiting for far too long – everything needed and more.

Letting go, in a split second lips melted against each other, arms wrapping tightly against Zoro’s neck, bodies completely flushed together as his fingers lost themselves into your hair, gripping at each strand as if afraid of losing what was right in front of him. Tongue swiped across the lower lip, granting easy access into your mouth, not even fighting for the dominance you’d usually challenge him on a daily basis – you were his for the taking.

With each passing second, hunger surfaced over the passion, panting and teeth clashing in a desperate attempt to taste each other even more than possible. Arms fell off Zoro’s shoulders, traveling down the chest, not shying away for a single second when your hands worked over the clothing, one pushing it off his body while the other reached for what you wanted where it was needed the most. Mouthwatering hardness came in contact with your palm, skins separated by nothing but material and a guttural groan was released, one that had you clench painfully around nothing. 

“Impatient.” Zoro’s very particular chuckle, one that signaled danger, had you freezing – hand abruptly stopping from sizing him up, mouth agape, half-lidded gaze settling on his lips.

Fingers untangled from your hair, brushing across the sensitive skin of your neck before settling on the chest, being pushed backwards and leaning against the door once again.

It was impossible to look away from the beauty this man so easily displayed – defined muscles only Gods were said to be having, the broadness of his shoulders you found absolutely delicious were in full view, abdomen relaxing and contracting with each push of Zoro’s attempt to control the last bit of sanity he could hang onto right now as it fell into that, oh, so delicious, sculpted V-line, jawline of a sharpness that was not for the fainthearted, blush pink lips glistening with the remnants of your hungry kisses, half-lidded, dark gaze settled on yours along with the mess of a green hair from what had ensued so far.

Godly, you thought.

Too entrapped by the man haunting your dreams, there was no warning when his fingers hooked into the material of your tank top and pulled mercilessly, tearing it in one swift motion. Breasts bounced lightly when being released from their confinement, pebbled nipples coming abruptly in contact with the air, eyes snapping wide open at the gesture while a gasp erupted. Head cocked slightly at the sight, Zoro licked his lips hungrily before a smirk took over, taking a moment to admire the image in front of him, one he believed to be a whole lot better than whatever he imagined while fisting his cock at the thought of you.

“Stop staring.” you huffed, blush dusting the cheeks, one you knew was bright enough to outshine the moon, while playfully flicking his golden earrings.

“You were doing the same a minute ago.” Zoro grinned from one ear to the other, watching with a deep pleasure how you began squirming.

Opening your mouth in an attempt to be a smart ass, words died in your throat, being taken over by a moan the moment his mouth came in contact with your pebbled bud, tongue flicking playfully at it while his other hand gave equal attention to the other. Head fell backwards against the door, chest being pushed upwards, further into Zoro’s ministrations that were engulfing your mind in a pleasure induced haze.

“Roronoa.” fingers scratched against his scalp to which Zoro groaned loudly, grabbing at his hair and pulling backwards, darkened eyes staring right into his, skin brimming with a fire only the two of you could feel, panting desperately while being met with an innocence that sent a shiver down the spine. “Fuck me.”

It was either pride or amusement that could be read on Zoro’s flushed face – whatever it was resulted in his clothing fully dropping on the floor, eyes falling on the spot that interested you the most. Quiet, wet slap had you shivering lightly, breathing quickening its pace while watching his hard, veiny cock in all its might, standing up to attention and forcing for your eyes to not cross noticing the slight curvature upwards that was surely going to hit exactly the right spot.

Arousal pooled even more into your panties, feeling how soaked they were, inner thighs drenched beyond reality, his cock’s angry tip leaking heavily in anticipation.

“Up here.” Zoro rasped, hand sneaking in between your legs, fingers hooking into the material and pulling it to the side – eyes meeting his, completely lost on the expectation of what was about to happen, you hastily worked on the skirt while bunching it all around the waist. “Fuck.”

The word slipped out of both of you at the same time, Zoro’s fingers finding themselves completely drenched in arousal when settling in between your folds. Arms wrapped around his shoulders when feeling one finger slipping in with an embarrassing ease while his thumb pressed playfully on your needy clit. Slow, lazy movements derailed your mind completely to fall over the edge, needy whimpers slipping into his mouth as lips met yet again. Surges of hotness and pleasure rushed along the veins, hips beginning to move on their own accord wanting more.

“You can take another, yeah?” Zoro’s own panting revealed itself as another finger was pushed inside, the desperation of your needy cunt sucking them in with ease – whimpers morphing into moans, hips being pushed even deeper onto thick fingers as the first praise of tonight was released. “Good girl.”

“Wa-ah!-nna cum.” you mumbled against his lips, feeling that familiar coil building tightly inside, hanging onto dear life for more, thumb circling, playing lazily with your puffy clit, fingers slipping against that, oh, so delicious spot. “P-please ..”

“I know, I know.” that all knowing smirk carving into Zoro’s features, mocking tonality coming to play while gritting his teeth for control, feeling the way your gummy walls clenched around his soaked fingers – in a split second emptiness filled you, whimper and a confused expression following. “Wanna have you cum on my cock.”

Heartbeats thumped violently against the rib cage, Zoro bringing his fingers drenched in your juices up to his lips before sliding them into his mouth, pulling out of you a shameless moan at the sight. It was as if fighting a force of nature, the gesture enough to have your coil snap, holding back painfully to not cum right there and then - so fucking good, the swordsman rasped, watching with satisfaction how you fought to remain sane.

Strong hands settled on the hips, Zoro aligning himself with your soaking core that was dripping down the inner thighs and onto the floor, droplets falling with quiet slaps at the contact with the wood. Foreheads pressed together, eyes never leaving the other’s face, rock hard cock rubbed in between your folds for lubrication, drenching him completely. 

Feeling the tip slowly pushing in, gasping with no sound at the burn of an unfamiliar stretch, eyes widened at the size that you had to accommodate with, zoning away from him. Even after seeing it in full earlier on, you were definitely not prepared for it.

“Eyes on me.” Zoro commanded, voice faltering from aroused to careful, calm even – your gaze focused back on him quickly, looking for a confirmation that you were alright, a brief nod following right after.

With each delicious inch, the burn of the stretch turned into pleasure, accommodating to Zoro’s size and length being a work you never thought was needed. Teeth rolled in between them his lower lip, whimpers slipping out until you were flushed completely against him. Jaw went slack when he bottomed out, feeling the twitch of his cock against your stretched out walls. A few slow, lazy strokes followed, both accommodating at a whole nother level, broken moans beginning to fall off each other’s lips.

“Fuck, you’re so tight!” Zoro’s head fell backwards, fingers dipping into the flesh of your hips as he guided your body as he pleased, up and down the length you wanted for so long. “F-fuck ..”

“M-more ..” was the only thing you could say, pleading to be fucked beyond relief. “P-aah!-lease!”

Teeth grazed across the sensitive skin of Zoro’s neck the moment his pace picked up another level, nails digging into the flesh of his muscular back, leaving trails of ownership with each stroke, wet slaps bouncing off the walls. Lips latched onto the skin, sucking viciously until you stole another moan from him, love bite threatening to form by the time this was over. Every single time your needy cunt was clenching around Zoro’s length, another loud moan would slip into the air, filling you with a possessive satisfaction knowing it wasn’t because of someone else but because of you. He was unraveling right under, contracting on purpose just to hear that sweet sound coming out of the greatest swordsman.

“S-stop .. doing that!” Zoro barked annoyed, slamming into you aggressively, the loudest moan that was let out so far, finally making its appearance – clenching once more, fingers grabbed at the back of your head, pulling backwards until you were met with the cool wood of the door and a dark, hooded gaze. “Brat.”

Using the surface as leverage, angling you just right, Zoro’s arms went under your knees, spreading them beyond perfection as his gaze fell right on the spot where the two of you connected. Hands settled on your waist, fingers dipping forcefully into the flesh, squeezing an annoyed hiss from the woman that has been challenging him since they’ve met. A vicious smirk pinched his puffy lips, dragging his cock out slowly before slamming it deeply into your cunt.

“FUU-AAH!-CK!” the scream that plunged out of your lungs had Zoro’s cock twitch violently, watching how your body arched in pleasure.

“Rough, ha?” rasped chuckle came from the swordsman, hands wrapping around his wrists. “That’s my girl.”

What you thought felt absolutely amazing until now, turned into absolutely mind-blowing madness as Zoro began using your dripping hole as he deemed fit. Bewildering pace filled with a stamina fit for none other than him set the tone of how his hungry cock devoured your needy cunt. Clenched teeth could be seen between the moaning and the grunts he let out, sliding in and out like a starved man, watching almost drooling the way you were desperately sucking him in. It did not even matter at this point that the door was trembling violently in its hinges, the way he was capable of hitting into that perfect spot, tip kissing your cervix in the most delicious of ways.

Sweat trickled down Zoro’s body, glistening muscles flexing with each movement, licking his lips at the sight of the white, creamy ring forming at the base of his cock. Droplets of the same exhaustion essence dripped down in between your bouncing breasts, nails digging into the skin of Zoro’s wrist as the knot holding everything together was about to snap into millions of pieces.

“‘m gonna .. ahhh! fuck!” your moans began to be erratic, these last words being from the string of coherent ones as the rest came completely mumbled out, slurred even along with the squelching noises of a drenched out cunt sucking in the best cock it ever tasted. “ .. c-cum ..”

“C’mon .. shit!” Zoro grunted, holding you with only one hand while the other came in between trembling legs, thumb and index fingers settling on the clit, squeezing it gently between them before twisting it slightly. “Cum on my cock.”

“I w-wa-aah ah!-nt .. w-with me ..” barely audible words falling off your lips, unfocused eyes crossing from the pleasure the swordsman was inflicting on you. “Cum.”

Without thinking twice, the coil that has been burning heavily snapped in a split second, starstruck release washing over the both of you. Zoro slammed as deeply as possible into the depths of your cunt that was milking him for dear life and more, filling you up to the brim with his hot, creamy release, the pool of your violent orgasm erupting and drenching the man, dripping onto the floor in a never ending rain of droplets.

Heavy pants ensued into the darkness, silence embracing the both of you, Zoro wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling towards him until flushed completely against each other. Lips peppered hot kisses along the sensitive skin of your neck, traveling upwards under the ear and finding their way across the cheek until met with your feverish ones. Lazy, yet needy, brief kisses adorned your lips as his spent member slipped out of your warmth, quiet whine being let out at the loss of contact.

“Look at me.” Zoro whispered calmly, warmth pinching the tonality of a usually deep, aggressive voice – you refused by hugging him tightly, knowing exactly what he will see once allowed to. “Y/N.”

Slight, brief shiver took over, one that did not go unnoticed by the swordsman as he frowned briefly at the unusual occurrence, thinking, at first, that you were just tired. Pressing another kiss on your temple, nose nudging at it as a sign that you could not hide forever. Taking a deep breath, body moved slightly backwards, coming face to face with the only man that you wanted to fuck for the rest of your life. Zoro’s eyebrows snapped upwards briefly, barely visible to the untrained eye. Not to you. That was because you knew exactly what he was seeing right now.

Past the messy hair, flushed cheeks, puffy lips and sweaty body, there was the loud thumping of a heart that was never going to be able to settle after tonight and a very specific glint that adorned your eyes.

You looked utterly and irremediably in love.

What you did not expect to see, disregarding the words you both said to each other before everything began tonight, was that Zoro had the same expression on his face. Knot formed into the throat, teeth nipping at the inner cheek noticing the blush that bloomed onto his usually stone cold cheeks. You were both staring at each other as if caught red handed, as if doing something that you were not supposed to when, in fact, you had absolutely no idea that this was going to be the best decision any of you could make in their entire lives.

“I’m in love with you.” courage came out of complete nowhere, pushing you to be the first one to speak, knowing who was the man you were talking to – Roronoa Zoro, the man that would never say it hurts, rather dying on his own two feet than admitting to a weakness. “I have been for as long as I can remember. Yes, I was jealous of the two women that came to you tonight. Yes, I danced with all those men in hopes of getting a reaction out of you. Clearly, it worked and ..”

“Y/N.” Zoro tried stopping the avalanche, noticing how you kept fidgeting into his arms, fingers playing with the golden earrings – something you always did when nervous, uncomfortable or deep in thought.

“And you don’t have to say anything.” you followed, palm cupping his cheek while the other thumb smoothed over the scar adorning his left eye. “I can see it perfectly already. Don’t force yourself to be someone you’re not just for the sake of me hearing the same words. Tonight was enough for me to realize that you’re in love with me too.”

Zoro stared, lips parted in surprise hearing the words that fell past the lips he was kissing not even a few minutes ago with a love he had never shown another. You were the person that knew him better than anyone, he could go to the lengths of saying that even better than Luffy himself. He knew he did not have to say it for you to understand that his heart was beating in the same ways as yours did.

However, what Zoro was going to do was to show you as better as he can, willing to learn how to make you as happy as he wished for you to be with him – love, something Roronoa Zoro never thought he would be able to be blessed with.

“Thank you.” the swordsman whispered, lips pressing against yours gently, softness enveloping your senses, foreheads leaning into each other as he pulled back.

“And that?” innocent chuckle bloomed into the air, your finger pointing at the bright love bite fully settled into the skin of his neck. “Those two better know who you belong to now.”

“God, woman ..” Zoro laughed loudly – a true, rare sight – while playfully slapping your ass to which you jumped slightly, letting out the same laugh. “You’re killing me.”

“Exactly!” you chirped, grinning from one ear to the other, while being carried towards the bathroom. “No one else is allowed to kill you also. If you ever decide to die, I’ll happily oblige and do it myself!”

✨ Reblogs & comments would be much appreciated ✨

© jordyn-degas — work to NOT be copied, posted or translated anywhere else

[the-ellia-west]

Silver Blood and a Glass Crown

Alkain Short Story 2/3

(It’s got a lot of small time skips and setting changes)

This was Written very Quickly in 3 days because of procrastination, I'm sorry (ToT)

I hope you Enjoy it!

(This one is very long, Also sorry, Lovelies!)

Alkain smoothed the map across the table with all four arms, arranging the pieces over the miniature landscape. “So this is the situation, correct?”

The messenger nodded sagely. “Yessir.”

“Then I suggest you move battalions here, here, and here. They can stay hidden amongst the trees here.” He moved a few of the pieces. “You don’t want to strike first in case the negotiations go well, and we don’t have to fight.” 

“If I may, this seems a bit excessive sir.” The General stepped up beside him.

“Hm, you’re right.” Alkain pulled back, studying the map as his voice dropped to a contemplative mutter, “Better safe than sorry...”

“Mister Ciranes!” Another messenger slammed the doors open, panting. “The King Requests your presence in the throne room immediately!”

“Understood.” The elf fixed the cuffs of his uniform and bolted down the hallway. He didn’t want to make a mistake. Not here, not now, not after he’d gained so much in his mother’s memory and finally earned the king’s favor.

The Advisor brushed off his uniform, tried to smooth out his hair, and trotted into the room. “Your majesty,” He dropped to one knee, silently cursing his frazzled appearance.

“Ah! Alkain, rise. It has come to my attention that the Valerίan princess will arrive this evening instead of three days later because of tensions on the road and the rushed negotiations.”

The elf glanced up. “Yessir?”

“I called you here to tell you this because it now means you must be extra vigilant in your duties tonight. You are one of the most prevalent advisors she’ll be dealing with throughout the negotiations, so if possible I’d like you to greet her in my place.”

Alkain tensed, shocked at the question as he nervously ran his upper hands through his sandy golden waves, holding the other two to his chest for comfort. “It would be an honor, Your Majesty! Is there anything else?”

The king examined him with scrutiny and frowned. “Did you run here?”

“Um… Yessir.” Alkain shrank in on himself. “May I go, Your Majesty?”

“Yes, but may I ask where you’re so eager to leave me for?”

“My room sir. If I present the palace to the princess, I ought to look presentable myself. If I could… Your majesty.”

The King nodded thoughtfully, taking the crown from his head. “I understand, and I agree.” 

Alkain folded his lower arms behind his back and nodded once. “Thank you, sir.”

But he jumped as the king called toward one of the doors, “Kinnea!”

A young servant girl stepped into the room, bowing her head. “Yes, your majesty?”

“I intended to gift a stylist to each of my advisors, and since you need one, this is Kinnea. Kinnea, could you attend to Mister Ciranes here? If you would.”

“Yes, Your Majesty.” She nodded sagely and looked up, deep scarlet eyes sparking with worry.

Alkain rubbed his wrists nervously. “Thank you, your majesty.” 

“You’re very welcome. Now, I’m going to check on my son. You two have fun!” The King motioned for Alkain to go as he left the room.

The elf waved for Kinnea to follow him and stopped when he reached the door. “Aren’t you coming?”

“I respond to orders, sir. It’s my job. You haven’t given one.”

“Oh, uh… right. Follow me, please.” 

“Was that a request or an order?”

Alkain sighed. “I’ve never had a servant before. I don’t know what I’m doing.”

Kinnea set her shoulders and put her hands behind her back, “You don’t have to justify yourself to me. I’m here to serve you, sir.” She wove around him and held the door, bowing her head. “My orders?”

***

Alkain adjusted his suit's neckline, tie, and tailcoat as he glanced back at Kinnea. “You’ve outdone yourself.”

The servant nodded and stepped back as the carriage pulled around the bend. Glittering glass strings hanging from the ornately carved frames jingled against one another as the horses slowed and one whinnied.

The King’s advisor held up a hand as a servant rushed forward, pulling the carriage door open himself. He bowed and gestured one arm toward the doors. “Your Royal Highness, Welcome to Seikaria, it is our honor to have you! Allow me.” He offered her a hand.

“Thank you.”

“My pleasure, Miss.”

“The pleasure is all mine…” She trailed off, raising an eyebrow at him as she took his hand.

“Alkain. Alkain Ciranes, Your Highness.”

“It’s wonderful to make your acquaintance, Alkain. Might I ask, what your position is that you would be sent to greet me in place of the king?”

“I am an advisor, your Highness, and a negotiator. The King wishes you well, but he cannot greet you himself as he is busy finishing the preparation for your arrival. You did arrive quite a bit earlier than expected, would you like to see the palace?”

“It would be my pleasure.” The Princess smiled at him and allowed him to take her arm and lead her toward the palace doors.

Kinnea followed close behind as Alkain and the princess made polite conversation. “We’re so glad to have you, your highness.”

“Valeran and Seikaria have been at odds for far too long. We must agree upon a treaty as soon as possible.”

“Do you think there will be peace?”

“There has to be, and I have no doubts with you in the negotiations.”

“You flatter me, your Highness.” Alkain bowed his head. “This is the war room where we will discuss the treaty.”

He led her through the halls, showing her to the ballroom as the King sent for him.

“Your Royal Highness!” The king smiled at the princess. She clung to Alkain’s arm, and smiled, though her voice came pleasantly through gritted teeth.

“Your Majesty, it is good to see you!”

“I’m glad to see you too Nirscia.” The King bowed to her. “And you, Alkain! You look good, I’m glad Kinnea did her job well!”

“My presence has probably become bothersome to two minds so great as yours. I will be on my way. It was truly an honor to make your acquaintance, your Royal Highness.”

“It is truly a pity to see you go. Must you?” Her smile lifted a little as he let go of her arm.

“It seems I must, I hope I will meet you again.” He bowed.

“I’ll still be within the walls for a few more weeks, don’t say farewell too soon. I may miss you myself!” She raised a hand, and Alkain retreated, smiling.

“He's one of your advisors?”

“Correct.”

“He's very sweet. I think I'll enjoy his company.”

“I'll be sure to tell him that for you.” The King smiled. “I hope you have a good time here. But before we join in on any of the festivities, I would like to discuss things.”

Throughout the rest of the night, the princess was warmly welcomed by the palace officials and servants and retired to her room late after the sun had already gone to rest beyond the horizon. 

Alkain drew the blinds and laid on his back, staring at the ceiling. Everything seemed different now. What with the princess in the castle, there would have to be double the preparations and double the meetings to compensate for the negotiations. 

He sighed. Closing his eyes, when all of a sudden, a hand reached over him and he jumped, pulling the knife from his sleeve and holding it to her neck. Kinnea glanced down at the knife, unflinching. “Sir. I don't think the king would appreciate a death in the palace while the princess is here.”

“Oh… it's you.” Alkain lowered the knife. “What are you doing?”

“Taking off your suit, sir. It would be uncomfortable to sleep in, and it may rip.”

“Um… thank you, Kinnea.”

“Hm.” She nodded as he sat up and allowed her to take it from his shoulders, handing her the tie.

“You're dismissed Kinnea.”

She nodded to him and left.

***

Alkain startled awake at a sharp jab to his shoulder. “Ow!” Kinnea set the poker down and straightened. The Elf rubbed his shoulder and sat up. “What the hell was that?”

The servant didn’t reply.

“You can speak.”

“The king wished for me to wake you. So I did, Sir. My apologies.”

“Did you have to stab me with a poker?”

“No.” 

Kinnea fixed his hair and his coat before he left for the meeting. 

The Elf took a seat in the middle of the table. The Princess waved to him. He smiled back in her direction and bowed his head. “It is good to see you again, Your Highness.”

“It's good to see you again as well, Mister Ciranes.”

“Could I get you a drink?”

“Oh. But that’s a servant’s job, isn’t it?”

“But it is an honor to serve you, Your Highness. I am not a royal such as yourself, so I am content resting in my station below yours if it means I get to elevate yours.” He stood and went to a cart, pouring a cup of water for the princess as he knelt and reached for her hand. “May I?”

“I’m a little afraid, what are you asking?” She smiled, offering it to him.

Alkain took her delicate fingers, rubbing his calloused thumb over her soft, smooth skin. “I’m offended you would consider me a threat, Your Highness.” He smiled and raised her hand, brushing his lips gently over her knuckles.

She laughed, “Your hair looks nice.”

“Thank you. You’re more beautiful than I could even describe, your highness!” He retreated to his seat, eyes straying back to her as his words echoed back in his mind. Her thick brunette hair spilled over her shoulders in waves, an intricate web of braids tying together into a strange pattern behind her head, showing off the glittering beads and pearls weaved into the glossy strands.

“Good morning everyone.” The King strode into the room and sat on his throne, surveying the table before he leaned forward. “We have a lot to discuss before the whole palace wakes, and starts missing us.”

A few of the advisors chuckled at the statement as the king began. “Princess Nirscia has come to our kingdom to finalize the terms of the peace treaty, and we will make her journey worthwhile. Valeran and Seikaria will have peace once more, but for now, we will go over the terms of the previous treaties and discuss why they failed and what we can do to make this one last.”

The meeting proceeded quickly and efficiently, suggestions, ideas, and details whirling in Alkain's head as he was assigned his job and sent to do it. 

He glanced between the servants in front of him. “Alright. You, go fetch some parchment. The rest of you,  find the rest of our team. We need a plan before noon.”

“Yessir!” The servants saluted him and promptly scampered off to their separate jobs. Alkain took the pieces of parchment as they were offered to him and scratched off a list of tasks on each one. He handed all four of them off to separate servants as he raced to find the team's planner. 

He found her in the gardens, conversing with the princess over a bush of roses. He called over to her. She looked up. “Ah, Mister Ciranes! What brings you here?”

“You, Miss. We need you for preparations inside. If you could.”

“Your Highness?”

“Got are welcome to go if you wish, but I would like to borrow the king's advisor for a moment.”

“Oh of course your highness, if he agrees. But we may need him back. Make sure you handle our fragile package carefully in conversation, he's a little brittle.”

Alkain stared after the planner in shock. The Princess giggled, trailing a hand down the leaves of the rose bush.

“Um, what would you like, Your Highness?”

“Only a moment, I know you're busy. Please,” She waved him over. “You have been nothing but kind and welcoming to me, and I appreciate that. Mister, Ciranes, you are fascinating and amazingly respectful. I may enjoy your company.”

“I… thank you, Your Highness!” Alkain broke into a grin. “That means a lot coming from someone so great as yourself.” His face tinged pink and he avoided her eyes.

“Hm.” The Princess smiled as she plucked a rose from the bush and flinched as a thorn pricked her, drawing a bead of blood from the pad of her finger. But she ignored it, threading the rose into the breast of his overcoat. “You're a lot like this Rose, Ciranes. Complex and beautiful. But those virtues make many… forget your flaws, and shield their eyes from seeing your danger. It takes someone skilled and thorough to appreciate you fully.” She pulled away, the drop of blood staining into the dark fabric. “Open up a little! It might do you some good!” 

Alkain looked down at the Rose, “Alright, I will make it my mission, Your Highness.”

“Would you like to join me for tea this afternoon?”

“I… yes. I think I would like that very much, Your Highness

“I'll see you soon.”

“Um… yes! I'll see you soon… Your Highness.”

Alkain turned quickly, face flushing as he cursed himself in his mind. Stupid, no, that was awkward and weird. She is a princess, you are a low-ranking advisor who comes from a slave house. That is your worth. You are dirt compared to her.

He brushed off his uniform, face and ears still pink as he returned to the house and stepped up beside the planner. The elf cleared his throat, “How is it going so far?”

“Well. The lists you made were remarkably accurate- Are you okay? You're looking a little sick.”

“Uh, no, I… uh… I'm fine!”

“You sure? Your face is a bit red.”

“Yeah! It's just… a very hot coat. I'll go inside and… survey the progress!”

“Don't be gone too long, we just might miss you!”

After a few hours of planning and preparation, Alkain went to greet the princess. They discussed cultures and kingdoms before night fell and he returned to his room. The next day continued about the same, and the next. But after the days of preparation came to a close, a dinner invitation came to his hands from the king. 

“Welcome! All of you, I thought it would be best if we were all acquainted before the ball tomorrow so we mustn't make the hassle of introductions.”

“Nirscia, this is my wife, Jevari, and my son, our future king, Makan.”

“Lovely to meet you!” The princess curtsied and Makan stood.

“Your Highness.” The Little prince kissed her hand and bowed, smiling hopefully up at her.

“You'll make a good king one day, I know it.”

“Thank you!” The little boy nodded to her and scampered back to his parents. 

Alkain smiled as the princess greeted the king and queen. She chose the seat next to him. “Good evening.”

“Good Evening, Your Highness. Are you well?” 

“Indeed, I am.” The Princess smiled back and turned to her meal, making light conversation with the royal family as the dishes were brought out. 

Nirscia looked at the roasted meat, surprise flickering over her face. “You have birds large enough to eat here in Seikaria?”

“You don't?”

“No! I haven't seen meat like this in ages, this is amazing!” She grinned.

“It may look nice, Your Highness. But trust me, It tastes even better.” 

“We'll just have to see, won't we?” 

“We will indeed. But I bet you'll like it!” Alkain smirked.

“Perhaps I will, Perhaps I won't.” She winked at him. “What are these spices?”

“I think it's a type of pepper flakes? I don't know. You'd have to ask the chef.”

“Hm, do you like it?”

“I do, are you having a difficult time admitting I was right, your Highness?”

“I like it as well. I'm perfectly capable of admitting anything I need to, Mister Ciranes.”

The two laughed and talked for the rest of the meal until the king finished and dismissed them. The Advisor stood, offering the princess his hand. “Would you like me to escort you back to your room, Your Highness?”

Nirscia hesitated, shock sparking in her eyes before a smile softened her lips and she took it, allowing him to lead her into the hallway. “You look nice… Mister Ciranes.”

“As do you, Your Highness. But I have no doubt you’re more beautiful than I could ever hope to be.” Alkain smiled as he held her arm a bit tighter, turning a corner. “I’m glad I’ve been able to see you so much, Your Highness. I really appreciate your kindness.”

“And I, yours. But Mister Ciranes, My name is Nirscia, you may use it.”

“And Mine is Alkain.” He smiled as her hands slipped into his.

“Alright Alkain, I’ve loved your company, but there is something else you need to know.” She glanced around.

“What?” The Elf tilted his head, his other arms raising to hold her hands as well.

Nirscia spun him toward the wall and pinned his arms above his head. She took a breath and kissed him.

Alkain’s eyes widened, but instead of pulling back as he knew he should, he leaned into it and kissed her back, his body melting into the wall, electric sparks racing between her fingertips and his wrists. They stayed there for a while until they had to pull back, both gasping. 

“I… Your High- Princess Nirscia… What-”

“Don’t speak… please.”

“I… I’m flattered!” Alkain sputtered, his entire face turning beat red.

“And I- Oh shit.” The Princess’s face flushed a bright pink, but this time Alkain threw his arms around her and pulled her back into another kiss, finding one another over and over again, until both fell back, Alkain too flustered to speak as Nirscia gathered her composure, accepting what had just happened.

“I’m sorry, I don’t know what came over me.” Alkain hugged all of his arms to his chest and looked down.

“I… I love you?” The Princess looked at him, her statement just as much of a question as an answer.

The two locked eyes and Alkain tripped over his words several times before he fumbled a response. “I don’t… this is… I love you too. I’m sorry… just- I- I’ll see you tomorrow!” He bolted down the hallway, the heat in his face burning hotter with every second as he slammed himself into his room and collapsed onto his bed, panting.

Kinnea didn’t comment as she pulled off his overcoat and tossed him a nightshirt, drawing the blinds and snuffing out the candles for him. But she did, as he wrestled on the nightshirt. “Is there anything you need, sir?”

“Uh, no. I… It’s a lot cleaner in here. Thank you Kinnea.”

She nodded to him and left.

***

“What happened to make you so panicked last night, sir?” Kinnea fixed the sleeves of his undershirt and fluffed the ruffles around his neck.

“Can I trust you with a secret?”

“Yes. I am your servant, it is my job to keep your secrets.”

“Even from the king?”

Kinnea looked up for a second, then said, “Yes. Even from the King.”

“Well, The Princess kissed me.”

“Huh.” Kinnea picked up an overcoat.

“I don’t know why she did it, but it was nice. I know I can’t be with her, but it’s a strange feeling. I’m not sure what I should do, it’s a little terrifying, to be completely honest.”

“Can you keep that a secret?”

“Yes?”

“Can she keep it a secret?”

“I think so. Why?”

“Then you have nothing to worry for, sir. Anything else?” Kinnea finished with his suit, moving onto his hair.

Alkain stopped, a little stunned. “I- Thank you.”

Kinnea ruffled up his hair, weaving some simple braids into a higher ponytail. She stepped back and nodded. “You should be ready there, sir.”

“Thank you Kinnea. I mean it.”

Kinnea stopped and glanced back at the other room.

“Go on, put on your dress. I’m not leaving without you.” Alkain took a flower from a vase, fixing it to the lapel of his suit, and waited by the door until Kinnea stepped out of the room, tense and straight-faced.

The long black dress covered her feet, intricate golden swirls matching the ones on Alkain’s suit. “It looks nice.” He took her by the arm and led her down the hallways into the main ballroom, breaking away from her to greet the princess, Kinnea trailing close behind him.

He knelt, kissing her hand. “Your Highness, It’s good to see you, Princess Nirscia.”

“As I am glad to see you, Alkain.”

“Glad to hear it!”

A long silence stretched between them. The Princess lowered her voice. “About last night, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean you any harm or disrespect, I hope we can remain on good terms.”

“As do I.” Alkain offered her his arm. “May I have a dance?”

“Of course.” Nirscia followed him to the dance floor, both ready to escape the topic of the previous night for the time being.

The Dances took them to afternoon, some light conversation and greetings with other friends bringing the ball to a height as it grew dark. The King rose from his throne to speak, but just as he began, a shriek pierced the dim atmosphere and something hit him, sending him reeling back against the throne. He wavered for a second on his feet and fell back into his seat, crown clattering to the floor beside him as he cried out. He reached for something, voice too faint to hear even in the perfectly still silence, and then he fell limp, deep scarlet red pooling at the base of the throne. Panic erupted. Voices shouted, and Alkain screamed, the shock finally dropping as he pulled for the king. Makan started for his father, but the queen whisked him away. Crowds jostled and guards crowded around the room. Alkain couldn’t tell what was happening anymore as two people pulled on his wrists. Kinnea fought back grief and fear, fighting to protect her master, as Nirscia tugged Alkain away from her into the crowd.

Chaos turned His vision blurry and confused him to the point of madness until the Guards managed to calm the crowds and file them out of the room. The next few hours were spent in shock and fast-paced decisions until the Queen announced that the Assassin had been found to be a Valerίan. This meant war, and the Princess had to leave.

Alkain stopped, horrified and confused. Everything had changed so fast. What had happened? He slammed the doors open and ran to find Nirscia. They met in the entrance, and she wrapped him into a kiss the instant he drew close enough, not caring of the witnesses, as she grabbed his shoulders, voice stern and fiery. “Alkain, This means war. But no matter how long it takes or what I have to do, I will be back for you.”

-

If you see this, please comment your thoughts, or just put something in the comments so I know you read it

|Part 1 | Part 2 (Here) | Part 3|

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Thank you for reading, have a wonderful day! :] <33

[neil-gaiman]

Hi Mr. Gaiman!

I hope you're happy and well.

A part of me hopes this ask gets lost, while another really strongly hopes you answer (not a good beginning, but fuck it).

Okay, so here goes *deep breaths*

My parents have some connections in the publishing industry (they know publishers, dad is an author, etc), and they want me to give them something, anything, that they will then get published. Because I write relatively frequently, stories, poems, research articles, and they know it, they keep telling me to create a book out of my written stuff. But I honestly don't want to, primary reason being that I really don't want to get published because of contacts and stuff. My first book was published that way, and while it holds a special place in my heart, I still feel it shouldn't have been published (some stuff is practice, and some maybe needs the right time - is what I feel). I want to do this on my own, and even if I fail, I'm good with it; but I don't want to get published like this, even if it's for initial books that might help me career-wise. But the parents say that time is running out (I'm 22 btw, and sometimes I do get scared that it's really running out), why not use opportunities when they're coming to you on a plate, doesn't matter if the quality is bad, nobody really reads, only the CV is read, etc. And while the idealistic part of me is strongly against it, another more sensitive part of me really gets affected and scared and just...fucked. When I decline, the parents get angry, say I'm stupid, idealistic, don't know what's good for me; and I get sad seeing them disappointed.

Could you please give some advice on this? Should I give in? Should I keep walking the idealistic path and keep trying on my own? I absolutely love the act of writing itself, and honestly, a lot of the time, finishing a piece of work and polishing it is usually enough for me. I can wait for however long, to first find a proper place(s) and then send it, and even then, rejection won't hurt. I'm already working on some stuff, short story collection, etc. but these talks (lectures and scoldings rather) really scare me. Am I doing the right thing, going against them, at least as far as my own writing is concerned (coz I'm usually pretty passive)?

Thanks for reading so much of my crap, and sorry if your time was wasted. It's perfectly fine if you don't answer.

PS really really love your works, and The Sandman (along with Discworld & Good Omens) honestly really saved my life in one of the darker parts - so thank you for that.

Hope you're happy!

Time is not running out. Don’t let anyone rush you. Write a book you are happy with first, and then see if you can get it published.