#treasure your quiet friends. treasure it

[raraeavesmoriendi]

on this day I would just like to announce my eternal love and gratitude for noise canceling headphones

[petrichorium]

the capitano breadwinner thing pluvi….i just could not picture him being okay with you leaving for long periods of time lol. plus i sort of imagine him living somewhere extremely isolated ? like a days journey into town at least. if you were a writer or an artist he’d be totally fine with that but anything that requires you to leave his home is sort of out of the question i fear

Yeah exactly exactly. It’s a classic nobility setup where u could take on the household responsibilities as the lady and manage the staff but only if u rlly want to, I think he’d actually rather u be the quiet eccentric type who largely keeps alone so preferring to write or paint or garden is the ideal for him. Also you having hobbies (and he does think of them as hobbies even if u think of them as a job) gives him more opportunity to shower u with gifts……. he just doesn’t want you out and about. Wait until he returns to take you out to that new shop with the nice paintbrushes, don’t go on your own.

[celestiamour]

‧₊˚✧ ❛[ pretty tipsy ]❜

ft. logan howlett x f! reader — xmen, marvel

╰₊✧ he brings you home after a night out drinking┊2.5k words

setting: deadpool & wolverine (2024) worst! logan contains: alcohol & intoxication, this man is WHIPPED, age & size difference, emotional drunk human reader, ooc? calling him kitty

➤ author's note: idk what this is but it’s my longest logan piece yet because i have yet to write any more than a thousand words for him

tonight was one of the few nights logan could finally have some alone time. wade was going out for drinks with vanessa with the plan to stay over at her place, the ever so mysterious blind al was off doing her own thing, and mary puppins was resting peacefully in her little bed, tuckered out after a long day of playtime. he could finally get some long-awaited peace and quiet, a moment to himself to relax and breathe. while he’s grateful for the presence of others since he arrived in this dimension, he’s still a lone wolf at heart who treasures his privacy above all else.

humming a little tune from the eighties, he sunk into the beat-up leather couch with a beer in one hand and a lit cigar in the other, taking a long drag on it and preparing himself for a relaxing evening until his flip phone started ringing. when he opened it up to read the “wade wilson” contact name staring back at him, he rolled his eyes with a groan before answering.

“what the fuck do you want?”

“not even a ‘hello?’ damn bitch, okay then— well, we ran into some friends and had some drinks together, but one of them is pretty shit-faced right now and her phone is dead, could you pretty please with sugar on top come and pick her up?”

“the fuck? that’s not my problem, just call her an uber—” he stopped mid-sentence when he heard a familiar giggle in the background, one asking a different partygoer to have another drink with her, “is that the neighbor who lives at the end of the hallway?”

“yeah, it’s your little crush~! you recognize her from just her voice over the phone, oh my god, you have it bad wolfie!! well, if you don’t wanna come, then fine, whatever, but you know, it’s not unsafe for a pretty lady to be alone this late at night! some guy might just swoop her up, actually, there’s some guy asking for her number right now—”

“alright, alright, i’m coming! send me the address.” he nearly shouted into the receiver, putting out his cigar on the ashtray atop the coffee table and slipping on his jacket to leave the comfort of his shared apartment.

the night was chilly in comparison to the cozy warmth of the indoors and the bar was filled with loud chattering and cheers, the clinking of glasses, yelling at the game being televised, and the general buzz of extroverted fun on a weekend night. 

“ayyy, there he is! come here, peanut, sit, sit, sit, have a drink with us!”

logan hesitated, not because he would ever shy away from free booze but because he was here on a mission with one sole goal in mind (and because he wasn’t familiar with this particular group of people, he didn’t feel like socializing tonight) “no, it’s fine, i’m just here to take her home.” his voice was uncharacteristically mellow, finding you napping on the table with your arms folded to be a makeshift cushion for your head. 

you peeked at the man coming up next to you and your face changed from exhausted to ecstatic to upset in the span of a few seconds, “looggann!! how are you doing, i feel like i haven’t seen you in foreverr— how come every time i see you in the hall, you always run off, are you avoiding me? did i do something wrong?” you cling onto his hand and shake his arm, paying no attention to your friends giggling at your behavior in the background, pouting and tearing up. 

oh god, you’re an emotional drunk, that’s so cute. neither he nor wade could get drunk at all on account of their systems constantly cleaning out the effects of the alcohol as soon as it’s consumed, but when he drinks around others, it’s a trait he typically finds so annoying quickly becoming so endearing when worn by you.

“i’m not avoiding you, you haven’t done anything wrong,” he consoled in the most gentle voice a wolverine could muster, also cringing at the fact that he wasn’t half as discreet as he thought he was. it’s true, he has been avoiding you, but only because he couldn’t stand the way you made him feel, smoothing out the rough edges of his personality and making him feel stupid butterflies he was far too old to be feeling, not to mention the nonstop teasing from everyone else when they noticed the way he seemed to look at you from afar. it was as if he was a child who thought hiding from it would make it go away, but it has become apparent it has only grown stronger.

“you’re telling the truth?” you sniffled.

“yes, i am. come on, bub, let’s get you outta here. i’m here to take you home.”

you didn’t protest or try to convince him you weren’t wasted, knowing your limit had been reached, and slowly picked up your things to follow him out of the building. he allowed you to intertwine your arm with his, providing support to your unbalanced mind and stumbling legs since you couldn’t even walk straight.

“why would you drink so much if you’re such a lightweight?”

“how do you know i’m a lightweight? you weren’t there, i could have drunk an entire bathtub full of booze before you showed up!” 

“nah, i can smell it, there’s no way you drank anything more than a few pints.”

“oh, so the kitty is a dog now? i thought you were more cat-like this whole time, but i guess i was wrong.” 

“what?” they say what a person says when intoxicated comes from their soul and true thoughts with little to no filter, but he certainly wasn’t anticipating those words to come out of your mouth.

“you look like a kitty, you know? with the way your hair does the little swoopy things— do you wake up like that or do you need to style it? you act like one too, grumpy ass kitty.”

“don’t call me that, kid, i hear it enough from wade already.”

“i’ll stop calling you kitty when you stop calling me kid! i know you’re old as hell, but i’m a grown-ass adult!”

“yeah? well, you’re certainly not acting like one right now.”

you were silent for a minute, making him worry for a second that he offended you by calling you childish, but when he looked back down at you, you were simply staring in astonishment. “i’ve never seen you smile before! you look a lot more handsome, you should do it more often!”

was he smiling? he didn’t even notice, grinning ear to ear and revealing his pearly white teeth, chuckling at your ridiculous words. was this really the first time you saw him smile and heard him laugh? no wonder you assumed he was avoiding you, he was surprised you didn’t hate him just because of a misunderstanding.

it took some time to get you up all of the stairs to your floor without tripping, and logan was almost sad the night was over so quickly. even if the conversation was mostly one-sided and you were intoxicated with slurred words, he swears he listened to all you had to say between comedic bits, insightful knowledge, random bullshit, and found it all fascinating. luckily for him, his time with you wasn’t up yet as he watched you fumble with your purse and frown.

“oh, fuck… i lost my keys… oh no…” you slumped against the wall until you fell to the floor, feeling yourself starting to cry at this inconvenience with heightened emotions. 

“god, please don’t, not again…” he’s the absolute worst at comforting others, it isn’t his strong suit, and acknowledging this weakness seemed ten times more difficult when you were the one in need. “come on, you can sleep at my place for the night and charge your phone.”

“...really?”

“yes, come on.” 

you took his outreached hand and found yourself in his grasp again as he held onto your shoulder to steady you, unlocking the door and leading you into his shared apartment. he felt somewhat grateful that you were too drunk to notice how messy the site was, seating you on the couch as he got you a glass of water to sober up. you looked so out of place among it all, so young and feminine with your vibrant club clothing around all of the aging, scratched-up furniture and muted colors.

“thank you,” you murmur, downing the entire tall glass with a few gulps, “uh, where is the bathroom?” he directed you to where it was and allowed you to use it, quickly hearing you turn on the shower after a minute and just as quickly hearing you swearing in regret over the loud pitter-patter of the steaming hot water. “i’m never drinking again, why am i being so fucking stupid?!” 

“are you okay?” 

“yeah, except for the fact i forgot that i don’t have a change of clothes and i stepped into the shower with my current ones on because i forgot to take them off!” your voice cracked, feeling yourself starting to cry once again from yet another inconvenience. you were really just embarrassing yourself and couldn’t wait for this shitty day to be over.

he let out a sigh of relief, “god, don’t scare me like that— i’ll get you something, hold on, please don’t cry.” he could have stolen some of al’s clothing since she wouldn’t have noticed, or he could have stolen some of the clothes vanessa left behind after spending time with wade, but for some odd reason, he pulled out one of his canadian hockey jerseys for you. the fabric was soft and worn with time, smelling slightly of him and laundry detergent, and arguably the most comfortable thing he had at his disposal. “i’ll leave it outside the door, okay?”

“thank youu!!” (and thank god your underwear is still clean and dry enough to wear again, you have no idea what you would have done if you didn’t realize your mistake soon enough and stood under the water for long enough to be soaked to the bone.)

logan allowed his fatigued body to rest for a moment, sinking into the couch just as he did an hour ago in hopes of relaxation. what the fuck was he doing? since when did the wolverine play babysitter for drunk young women, walking them back to play guard dog against possible creepy men, letting them into his home, and lending them his clothing to wear? this was so uncharacteristic of him, he couldn’t think of a single person he was willing to do this for other than laura, but you certainly weren’t nearly as close to him as he was to her! lord, he’s so pathetic, he thinks he probably would have carried you back bridal style too if you asked him.

the water stopped and he waited for you to exit so that he could show you where you could sleep, but he could now see he didn’t need to. your apartment layouts are nearly identical, and it looks like your brain was switched onto autopilot after cleaning up, mindlessly strolling into his bedroom and plopping down on his mattress as if it were your own. (his shirt was practically a dress on you, falling to your mid-thigh and ill-fitted on your smaller frame, his eyes lingering on it for a second longer than what would have been polite.)

he leaned against the doorframe, watching you make yourself comfortable and preparing to stay there until the early afternoon with a banging headache. “are you comfortable? do you need anything else?”

you murmured something in response and stretched out your arms, making grabby hands and inviting him to join you, “come cuddle with me! herree, kitty, kitty, kitty~”

are you really calling a fifty-something-year-old, six-foot-tall killer mutant with adamantium bones and razor-sharp claws that come out of his knuckles ‘kitty’? yes, yes you are, and you’re going to scream into your pillow from embarrassment when you recall it the next day.

“i don’t do cuddles, princess,” he chuckled even though he intended to scoff. “and i already told you to quit calling me that.”

“pleaseee? pretty pleasee?” you chirped, eyes going big and round just like a puppy in a cartoon, begging him to humor you in this request.

are you truly a human, or are you secretly a mutant who has hypnotic powers? the answer is obvious, he’s just an old loser who apparently answers at your every beck and call now because all he could do is sigh, slip off his jacket, and get under the blanket with you. 

you rolled on your side and wrapped your arm around his body, nuzzling your face into his comforting touch and inhaling the mild scent of pine and tobacco. humming a satisfied “good night” and dozing off within a few minutes, you clung to him as tightly as a koala onto a branch, and he couldn’t separate himself from you without making you stir and whine. 

trapped in the embrace of a beautiful neighbor whom he possessed a soft spot for, wearing his clothing and laying in his bed, he would be trapped like this until morning it sounds like a dream to most men, but to logan, it’s the fear of getting attached and losing someone else important to him rearing its ugly head to the forefront of his mind. it scares him to think what could happen if he allowed himself this pleasure of becoming close to you, and yet when he admires your slumbering face, he feels like it would be okay and work itself out in the end somehow.

he fell asleep more quickly than usual when you held him, and for the first time in forever, he wasn’t tormented with horrid nightmares of the past that always plagued him before now. when he woke up, his weary soul was well-rested and energized, almost as if he was twenty years younger again. the wonders of a good night’s sleep, or perhaps, the wonders of being with you. 

it felt so… natural to wake up with you next to him.

you were practically a dead weight by now, not rousing in the least when he slowly got up to leave the bed. he did feel a little back about undoing the grasp you had on him though, felt a bit like abandoning you in a vulnerable state. he sauntered into the kitchen to brew a cup of coffee as per his routine, only to find the most annoyingly loveable scarred face sitting in a chair waiting for him, legs crossed and hands in his lap like a supervillain. 

“sooooo, how was your night, you smitten kitten? you dirty dog!” there was a stupid smirk on his face, trying his best to hold back a fit of giggles. he knows nothing suggestive happened and was just teasing, but he still wanted to hear him say that it was a wonderful night nonetheless and to thank him for playing matchmaker.

“shut the fuck up before i stab you again. don’t ruin this morning for me.”

[pedrospatch]

call it what it is

Jackson! Joel Miller x Female Reader

summary: A disagreement over patrol duty leads to declarations that have been long overdue.

warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI. established relationship. HEFTY AGE GAP (reader is in her 20’s and joel is 56). ellie and joel are fine bc i said so and they deserve nothing less. reader handles a rifle, joel’s a little too overprotective and almost seems controlling, but i promise he is not. well, maybe just a smidge. arguing, admission of feelings, joel miller says i love you (yes this is ooc, no i do not care bc i need this old man to tell me he loves me). angst, fluff. quite a bit of side character interaction before we get to joel and reader in the second half. the only physical description of reader is that she is shorter than joel. fair warning, i am quite rusty.

word count: 4.2k

a/n: hi hello. i have not shared a wip in over 2 months. i was going back and forth on whether or not i wanted to share a fic with so much going on but decided i wanted to get back to doing what i enjoy. that and ofc that new footage was a boost of inspo. i am sending so, so much love to anyone who happens to see this author note, whether you read this fic or just happen to see this note in passing whilst scrolling. i know things have been tough, but i am here with you. <3

Joel wakes with a gentle start. Yawning, he rolls over from his side onto his back, blinking the sleep out of his eyes as warm, golden sunlight filters into the bedroom through the sheer, white linen curtains drawn over the window. He stares up at the ceiling, his breathing slow, steady, and even. He’s still getting used to it, it seems. Waking this calmly, with a tranquil peace he had been so certain he would never in his life feel again. He knew it couldn’t be a mere coincidence the nightmares had all but stopped tormenting him in his sleep when the two of you stopped doing that awkward little tap dance around one another and began sharing a bed, a home, a life.

No more bolting upright in sheer panic in the middle of the night, heart pounding and drenched head to toe in a cold sweat. No more believing he’s failing in his sleep. No more waking up feeling like he’s lost something.

Even his dreams about Sarah had become so, so much more pleasant. Images of her in that field on that night were replaced by different memories, like watching her teammates dogpile her after she’d scored the winning goal in their soccer tournament, or the big, triumphant grin she’d flashed him over her chocolate milkshake as the pair sat in their usual corner booth at their favorite fifties-themed diner in Austin—much to Joel’s surprise, Sarah had politely declined her teammates’ invitation for pizza once the match ended, choosing to celebrate her victory with him. Just the two of them.

“Y’sure you don’t wanna go with your friends, kiddo?” he’d asked, raising an eyebrow. He had been certain she was approaching the age where she would start spending less and less time with her old man. “I wouldn’t mind, y’know.”

“Positive,” she had reassured him with a smile, looping her arm through his and leading him off the pitch. “I’d much rather be with you, dad.”

Rather than smelling metallic in his slumber, he smells the grass that stained her white and blue striped jersey. Her cheeks are smeared with dirt, not with crimson.

Stifling another loud yawn, Joel stretches his arm out over towards your side of the bed, his calloused fingers seeking the warmth and softness of your naked body—instead, all they find are empty sheets, cold and long abandoned. He turns his head, and as suspected, you are not laying there beside him. That’s hardly out of the ordinary. Out of the two of you, you were the early riser, up before the neighbors’ rooster even had the chance to sound the alarm. Joel knows how much you treasure your quiet mornings lounging on the porch swing he’d built for you as you watched the sunrise with a hot cup of coffee in hand. He often made a genuine effort to get up and join you, but lately, his patrol rotations had been all over the place thanks to a shortage of patrolmen. He found himself sleeping in whenever he had the chance, seeing as he never knew when he might have to work a damn double. Or maybe it was just his age catching up with him.

He checks the time and then rolls out of bed, groaning when his sore knees and his aching lower back protest his movement.

After taking a quick shower using whatever hot water the kid had left for him after her own shower—much to his annoyance, it was not very much—Joel brushes his teeth and gets dressed for the day before pulling on his boots and heading downstairs into the kitchen where he finds the culprit responsible for the cold downpour he’d been forced to wash himself under. Ellie’s sitting at the table, absentmindedly stirring her oatmeal around her bowl with her spoon as she flips through one of her comic books. Just as he’s about to greet her, he spots the clean, empty coffee pot on the kitchen counter and frowns. You hadn’t even made coffee yet?

Now, that—that is out of the ordinary.

“Where is she?” he asks.

“Well, good morning to you too, old man. Oh, I slept great, thanks for asking,” Ellie quips without looking up at him as she flips the page. She mumbles something under her breath he doesn’t quite catch, something like, and you get on my ass about my manners?

Rolling his eyes, Joel snorts in response and pads over to the coffee maker on the counter. He spoons in some of the grounds he’d traded for earlier that week into the reusable filter, pours in water from the tap, and turns it on to brew. He grabs two ceramic mugs from the wire dish rack beside the sink and sets them down on the counter. “She out back?” he questions, yanking the refrigerator door open—he tries to remember the little things, like how you enjoyed your coffee with a bit of milk as well as a dash of cinnamon, if you had the rations, or something to trade for the precious spice. He always made sure that you did.

“Nope.” Ellie shovels a spoonful of oatmeal into her mouth and adds thickly, “She went to get some eggs.”

Joel shoots her a look of disgust over his shoulder. “Jesus, Ellie! How many times do I gotta tell you? Don’t talk with your mouth full. It’s bad manners,” he scolds her, shaking his head. He turns his attention back to the refrigerator. As he reaches for the glass bottle of milk, he pauses and his eyebrows pull together in confusion when he sees the wicker basket on the top shelf. “Wait a minute.” He feels her stiffen in her chair. “Why the hell would she go get eggs when we’ve got a full basket of ‘em right here in the fridge?”

She clears her throat. “Oh, uh, my bad. I got confused. Think she said she was gonna go get more honey? Uh, I used the last of it to make my breakfast this morning and she, uh—she wanted some for her toast. You know, ‘cause she really likes putting honey on her toast,” she rambles before piling more oatmeal into her mouth.

Closing the refrigerator door, he turns to her, his eyes narrowing with suspicion as uneasiness settles deep in the pit of his stomach. “Ellie?”

There’s a momentary pause. “...yeah?”

This time, Joel doesn’t bother to chastise the teenager for talking with her mouth full. “Where is she?”

Ellie nervously swallows her food and holds up both of her hands. “Hey, I already fucking told you, man.”

“Look, I know you like the back of my own hand, kiddo. And I know damn good and well when you’re lying to me.” Joel crosses his arms over his chest. “Now tell me the truth. What do you know that I don’t?”

Groaning, Ellie sits back in her chair. “Ugh. She made me swear not to tell you! She’ll fucking strangle me if I do—”

“Yeah, well, not if I fuckin’ strangle you first myself,” he threatens her. “M’Serious, Ellie. Tell me what’s going on. Right now.”

“Alright, alright! Jesus,” she huffs. “She’s with Tommy. He’s been taking her out of town to do target practice in the mornings, just the two of them. She usually gets back to the house before you get up,” she admits.

Joel’s arms fall back to his sides, his shoulders tense. “And how long has this been goin’ on?” he asks, rigidly. There’s a sudden tightness inside his chest, a feeling he hasn’t felt it in a while, but is still all too familiar to him.

After Tommy spread the word around town that more people were needed for patrol duties, you’d expressed an interest in the role, but Joel had been all too quick to shut you down, telling you he didn’t want you stepping foot outside the community’s gates.

“No,” he’d said. “Not happenin’. S’too dangerous.”

“But Joel—”

“I said,” he lowered his voice. “No.”

He hadn’t offered you an explanation as to why he was against it, refused to give you one good, solid reason as to why it was acceptable for him to risk his own life to protect Jackson, but it wasn’t acceptable for you to do the same.

Joel hadn’t known how to tell you the truth. How he needed you far, far more than you needed him, how the mere thought of losing you, the best fucking thing that could have possibly happened to him since the world ended, made him feel like his heart was going to stop.

A few weeks had passed since then, and thankfully, you never brought it up to him again. You had lost interest in patrol duty. Or so he’d thought.

“How long has this been going on?” he repeats after a minute.

“C’mon, man! Haven’t I already snitched enough?”

“Ellie,” Joel bites out her name. “Tell me. How long?”

She sighs in defeat. “Two weeks? Maybe three?” When she notices the muscle in his jaw tick, she grimaces. “You do realize why she didn’t fucking tell you, right?”

“Don’t,” he warns her, sharply.

“I’m just saying,” Ellie mutters, peering down into her bowl.

Without another word, Joel angrily storms past her and straight out the front door, snatching up his rifle on the way. He heads straight for the stables, trying to ignore the anxiety flaring inside of his chest.

Focus.

Now, breathe in. And breathe out.

Breathe in. Breathe out.

Breathe in.

Breathe...

You exhale as you slowly squeeze the trigger.

Y’squeeze it like you love it, you had been told by your reluctant instructor.

The round fires off into the distance and you swiftly grab the bolt handle, bringing it up, back, forward, and then down again. You pull the trigger once more, then repeat and continue firing one shot after the other for a total of five rounds.

The rifle’s recoil nearly sends you flying backwards, but a strong hand on your back keeps you nice and steady. That same hand then moves to your shoulder and gives you three firm taps.

“Alright, alright! Christ,” Tommy laughs. He withdraws his arm from around you and shakes his head. “Fuckin’ calm down, Annie Oakley.”

Picking up his binoculars, he rises to his feet and looks through the lens at the makeshift targets that he’d set up for you, three empty soup cans lined up in a row on top of a wooden fence about twenty-five yards away—your longest shooting distance to date.

“Well?” You don’t even bother masking your impatience as you lower the rifle, carefully propping the weapon up against the tree stump you’re perched behind. Rubbing your sore shoulder, you hope the kickback won’t leave a bruise. You wouldn’t know how to explain that to Joel. “How did I do?”

His response comes in the form of a long, low whistle.

There is no telling if that had been good whistle, or if it had been a bad one. You groan. Now was not the time for him to dick around. “Please tell me I got at least one of them?”

“You got ‘em all, actually.” Tommy replies, lowering the binoculars and peering down at you. There’s a glimmer of pride in his eyes. “Good job, kid.”

Kid? Not exactly a nickname one wants to be called by the brother of the much, much older man that they are romantically involved with. It’d taken Tommy months to accept your relationship with Joel, especially when you moved your things out of your unit and into his over the summer. Part of you wonders if him referring to you as a kid is simply his own subtle way of telling you—no, of reminding you, that he’s still not comfortable with it.

And perhaps he never would be.

After all, you had still been a teenager when you first arrived to Jackson a few years ago, stumbling upon the town just a few months shy of the twentieth birthday you weren’t sure you would survive long enough to see.

You were indeed a kid when you’d met Tommy Miller.

Were.

Scowling up at him, you snap, “I told you to stop calling me that. I’m not nineteen anymore, Tommy.”

Having read your mind, he gives you a small smile and acknowledges, “Yeah, you’re right. You definitely ain’t a kid anymore.” He offers you his hand and hoists you up to your feet. Before dropping your hand, he gives it an apologetic squeeze.

You relax a little and smile back at him. “Did I really get all three?”

Tommy nods. “You sure did. You’re a damn good shot. I gotta be honest with you—I didn’t expect you to be this fuckin’ good,” he admits sheepishly.

Chuckling, you scoff, “Thanks. I think.”

“It’s a compliment, sugar.” He winks and flashes you a lopsided grin. “In fact, I’d say my work here is done.”

“Great! So when are you putting me on the roster?”

His grin instantly vanishes. “Uh, listen. About that....”

He trails off, and your heart sinks a little.

Tommy wouldn’t back out of this now—would he?

“Oh, no. Don’t you dare go back on your word, Miller,” you say, lightly poking him in the chest. “We had a deal. You said if I did well enough, you’d think about it.”

He nods in agreement. “Exactly. Said I’d think about it. And I think that puttin’ you on the roster for patrol ain’t a good idea.”

Your mouth falls open. If he never had any intention of holding up his end of the bargain, then what had been the point of teaching you how to shoot?

You didn’t understand.

“You just said it yourself, I’m a great shot! I’m a good on horseback, too. I’m stealthy. I’m diligent. What more do you fucking need from me, Tommy?”

Tommy’s chest heaves with a heavy sigh. “Joel would fuckin’ murder me with his bare hands if I even thought about puttin’ you on patrol duty. Hell, he’d murder me just knowin’ we’re out here and I’m teachin’ you how to shoot. It’s a damn fuckin’ miracle he still hasn’t caught onto this, y’know.”

Shocked, your eyebrows shoot to your hairline. “This is about Joel? Are you serious?”

“‘Course it is.” He pauses. “Listen, now I know the three of us had our—differences—when he first told me ‘bout you two. Still takin’ me a bit of gettin’ used to, but I can see he’s real serious about you. I know my brother, and I know he won’t risk losin’ what’s most important to him. Ain’t no way in hell. He doesn’t want you out here and you know that as well as I do.” Tommy shoves his hands into the pockets of his jeans, shrugging as he shuffles his weight from one cowboy boot to the other. “Unless he’s alright with it, I ain’t gonna put you on the roster.”

For a moment, you’re at a complete loss for words.

Upon seeing the crestfallen expression on your face, he makes a suggestion. “You can try talkin’ to him ‘bout it again if it means that much to you. Ask him—”

“Ask?” You want to laugh. You almost do. “I’m an adult, Tommy. I don’t need his permission to do this. Or to do anything for that matter. Joel doesn’t tell me what I can and can’t do.”

Tommy smiles wryly. “Well then, if that’s the case, why are we sneakin’ around and doin’ this behind his back?”

Your shoulders slump in defeat.

Because the ramifications could be disastrous.

Joel had made his stance on the matter abundantly clear, and yet here you were, deliberately disobeying him.

“Stumped you real good, didn’t I?”

Before you can even start to think about how you can possibly respond to that, you hear the sound of hooves in the dirt behind you, followed by whinny of a horse.

Tommy’s face pales as he glances over your shoulder.

“Shit.”

There’s no need for you to ask. His grimace says it all.

Somehow, you will yourself to turn around just as Joel’s steed comes to a halt beside the mare you and Tommy had ridden out on together. He jumps out of the saddle, grunting at the forceful impact on his knees when his feet hit the ground. His rifle hangs from a worn, brown leather strap slung across his back.

He approaches the two of you looking absolutely livid, and your throat goes dry.

“The hell is goin’ on here?” He breezes right past you, roughly shoving his brother with both hands. “Why the fuck would you bring her out here, Tommy? What the fuck is the matter with you?”

“Joel, c’mon. Take it easy—”

“Don’t fuckin’ tell me to take it easy!”

“Joel!” You reach for his arm. “Wait, it’s not his fault!”

Joel shoves him again, then takes him by the collar of his shirt and pins him against the ponderosa pine tree behind him. “You’ve been bringin’ her outside the gates behind my fuckin’ back for weeks, asshole?”

The panic begins to set in—he’s taking his anger out on the wrong person, and deep down, he knows this too.

“Joel! Stop! Let him go!” Grabbing fistfuls of his jacket, you try pulling him off of the younger man. “Stop it! It’s not his fault! I asked Tommy to bring me out here!”

He whirls around, his nostrils flared, jaw clenched.

You’ve seen this side of him a handful of times before.

But his anger has never been directed at you.

“What?”

Immediately, you let go of him and take a step back. “I asked Tommy to bring me out here and teach me how to shoot so that I can start working patrol,” you explain, hoping, praying, he doesn’t catch the slight tremble in your voice. “This was all my idea, okay? If you’re going to be mad at someone, then be mad at me. Not at him.”

“So you did this after I fuckin’ told you I didn’t want you out here?” Joel seethes. His neck becomes flushed, his tan skin now a deep shade of red.

“Joel—”

He cuts you off. “I had to find out from Ellie? You tried to get her to fuckin’ lie to me? After all the work it took for me and her to—” Stopping mid sentence, he places his hands on his hips and shakes his head.

“Joel. Please.” Behind the anger in his dark brown eyes, you detect something else. A mingle of hurt, concern—fear?

Tommy awkwardly clears his throat. “Well I’m, uh—I’m gonna head back to town,” he says, touching a hand to the back of his neck. “I’ll let the two of you work things out in private.” As he passes Joel, he lightly claps him on the shoulder. “Girl’s a sharp shooter, big brother. I’d reckon she’s almost better than you.”

His effort to lighten the mood fails. Miserably.

Offering you a subtle nod of encouragement, Tommy hops into the saddle of his mare and takes off towards the commune.

Silence falls over the both of you. It feels suffocating.

Unfamiliar.

Finally, you speak. “Joel, please just hear me out—”

“What the hell were you thinkin’? Or were you just not thinkin’ at all?”

“I was thinking I want to pull my weight in Jackson.”

“You already have a fuckin’ job,” Joel reminds you.

“Making sandwiches and serving whiskey at The Tipsy Bison?” You scoff, crossing your arms over your chest. “I am capable of more than that, Joel. So much more. Don’t you believe I’m capable of doing more?”

“I don’t want you out here,” he grits through his teeth. “Capable or not, I don’t want you outside Jackson’s walls. I don’t want you on patrol and that’s fuckin’ final. You understand me?” Now it’s him who falters, and you wonder if you’re imagining things, or if that’s really a tear you see sliding down the side of his face, disappearing into the salt and pepper scruff of his beard.

“That’s not your decision to make, Joel. It’s mine.”

“M’responsible for you. It’s my job to look after you—to protect you.”

Something about the way he is looking at you, it feels like a punch to the gut, and it’s at that precise moment when you begin to realize that he’s not angry. He’s afraid.

“Joel, I know that all you want to do is protect me,” you sigh, letting your arms fall down to your sides. “I know you do. But you’re doing me no favors by trying to keep me sheltered. By treating me like I’m defenseless. Don’t forget, I’m a survivor too.”

“You already know how fuckin’ dangerous it is out here. Clickers, raiders—”

“I can handle it,” you insist, stubbornly.

“You’d be puttin’ yourself right in harm’s way!”

You shoot back, “You mean, the way you and so many other people put yourselves in harm’s way every single day for the sake of keeping Jackson safe?”

A frustrated growl rumbles through his chest. “Christ, why are you bein’ so fuckin’ foolish? You’re just askin’ to get yourself killed!”

“I can take care of myself!” You realize your hands are shaking and curl them into tight fists at your sides in an effort to hide it. “Just accept it, Joel! Accept that I can take care of myself, alright?”

That is all it takes to tip Joel over the edge he’s been teetering on. “Then what do you fuckin’ need me for?” he shouts, his voice thundering over the quiet plains of Wyoming. “If you can take care of yourself, what’s the point in us bein’ together? Why are you with me?”

“Because I love you!”

As soon as the confession comes tumbling out of your mouth, you take a step back, your wide eyes meeting his own. Until now, neither of you have ever called this what it is, been bold enough to say it’s love.

Loving after so much grief, so much loss, is daunting. It’s something you thought you would never be capable of doing again, not in this lifetime. Not in this world. It’s happened, though.

You love Joel Miller.

And he loves you.

He’s never told you he does, but he’s shown you.

From the way remembers how you take your coffee in the mornings, to the way he laces his fingers with your own, holding your hand when he’s buried inside of you, whispering sweet nothings into your collarbone every single night.

“You—you what?” Joel’s whisper is hardly audible.

You inch your way closer to him, your voice soft. “I love you,” you declare once more. “I’m not with you because of what you can do for me. I’m not with you because you can take care of me.” Closer. “I’m with you because I love you—because I’m in love with you, Joel.” Closer, until your chest brushes against his, and he can smell the subtle scent of your homemade, rosewater soap. “The only thing I need, and have ever needed from you, is your love in return.”

His throat bobs. Before you can utter another word, he lifts his hands and gently takes your face, cradling it in between his large palms, gently. His eyes search yours, immediately finding the sincerity behind your words. Leaning down, he brushes the tip of nose against your own as one of his hands travels down, his long fingers curling around the nape of your neck. His thumb lightly strokes the column of your throat.

“I love you,” Joel says hoarsely. Three words he hadn’t said to anyone in over two decades—it feels foreign to him, they ring strange in his own ears. He tries it again, clearer this time, and with a little more confidence. After all, he’s only saying what he has known from the very start. “I love you.” His other hand moves to your hip, pulling you even closer to him. “M’gonna love you for the rest of my life, baby.”

He leans in further and presses his lips to yours lightly, at first, but he wastes no time in sweeping his tongue across your bottom lip, silently asking for more.

Your mouth parts for him, and he backs you against the ponderosa, kissing you deeply, greedily, like he’s a man starved.

You whimper into him, your hands sliding up his broad chest and past his shoulders until they’re tangled in his soft, graying curls. He breathes you in, like you are the oxygen he needs to stay alive.

It isn’t until you both hear the sound of rustling behind a nearby shrub that you’re forced to pull apart. “Don’t move,” Joel instructs in a hushed voice. He keeps you pinned against the tree, his hand abandoning your hip. He glances around, slowly reaching behind his back for his rifle. His tense shoulders relax when the both of you see a pair of rabbits dart out from one dried bush and straight into another. Exhaling an amused huff, Joel shifts his attention back to you and rests his forehead against yours.

Smiling, you reach up and softly graze his beard with your fingertips. “Guess it’s about time we called this what it is, huh?”

“Guess you’re right, darlin’.” He lifts his chin, brushing a kiss onto your forehead. “M’sorry for raisin’ my voice to you. For talkin’ to you the way I did. S’just, the thought of somethin’ happenin’ to you out here scares shit out of me.” Taking a step back, he pulls the strap of his rifle from around his shoulder. He chews the inside of his cheek and silently stares at the gun in his hands. After a minute, he meets your curious gaze. “Do you really wanna do this, sweet girl?”

You nod. “Yeah. I really do.”

Joel sighs. “Can I put a condition it?”

“Depends on what that condition is.”

“I’m your patrol partner. Every shift. Every rotation.”

You roll your eyes. “Joel.”

“At least for the first few weeks,” he bargains. “Last thing I need is for you to be paired up with some fuckin’ idiot who doesn’t know what the hell they’re doin’.”

Knowing that would be the only way he’d have some peace of mind, you decide to agree. “Fine. We’re patrol partners.”

“Alright then.” Joel nods and hands you the rifle. He flashes you a small grin. “Show me what you got, baby.”

divider credit to @/saradika 💛

for fic notifications please follow @joelsgreysupdates!

[heavysighing-dreamyeyes]

Kitchen Dances

~500 words

Jason Todd is in love with his best friend. He knows that. Accepts it. Thrilled with it even. The thought nags at him as he watches you dance around the kitchen, singing as you bake some new treat you wanted him to try. The problem is with how to tell you. How do you tell someone you love them? He doesn't really have any good examples to go off.

Bruce tells Selina he loves her by chasing her across all of Gotham only to let her get away. (After he's recovered whatever stolen treasure she's gotten her hands on.) Cute, but you're not exactly robbing any high priced jewelry stores or priceless artifacts.

Dick tells Kori he loves her by cheering while she single handedly takes on an army of goons with ease. Romantic, sure, but like hell is he putting you anywhere near an army of goons.

Tim tells Bernard he loves him by deep diving into his newest conspiracy theory, well thought out rebuttals and anecdotes that lead to hours of conversation. Classy, but not exactly something you're doing.

Damian tells people he loves them by introducing them to his pets, eagerly explaining how he met each animal and how amazing they are. Hm. Better, but Jason doesn't exactly have a surplus of pets at the moment. Should he get a dog? Or a cat? Would you like a cat better?

A heavy sigh leaves his lips as he glances at the ceiling. None of those are good enough for you, none of them show exactly how he feels about you.

He focuses back on the present, on you. He likes the way you're smiling as you sing. But he also likes the way your mouth moves along to the words when you sing. He's smiling the whole time you sway about the kitchen, stealing glances at you. You don't quite notice, enjoying yourself and letting out an excited noise when your favorite song comes on. But he always notices you. Always.

"Dance with me!" Your voice cuts into his thoughts, light and happy.

"I'm not much of a dancer." Jason protests, but he's already on his feet walking to you. Anything you asked for. Anything you want.

He takes your waist in one hand and your hand with the other, fingers curling against soft skin. He spins you around, both of you clumsy dancing along to the beat, laughing as you step on each other's toes and knock into counters.

It's sweet. Perfect even. Maybe this is how he tells you he loves you. In each note of the song, with the light in his eye that always brightens when he sees you. Maybe this is how you both tell each other you love them.

For Jason, that's all he needs right now. Pounding hearts and laughter tucked under the quiet light of your kitchen, the sweet smell of baked goods in the air, safe in the rhythm of your favorite song.

Part Two

[emmyrosee]

What would boyfriend sukuna do if he accidentally made his beloved cry? 👀🩵

*claps hands together and bites lip* AYO-

You’d been arguing about something minuscule, about whose turn it was to wash the dishes, and he merely rolled his eyes and said he could find someone else who would do it.

Because sukuna doesn’t think. No matter the time, the context, the situation, when he’s on defense, he’s going to bring out the big guns and says things to hurt. To damage, to break, to shatter.

Because sukuna is not a good person. He may smack on this “learning how to love” facade, he may hold doors open for you and cradle you when you cry, he may introduce you to his friends and family, but at the end of the day, he’s a trashy man who just fends for himself and only thinks about himself.

Or. That’s what he thought.

Until he sees the hot, betrayed tears bubbling in your waterline. He sees the way your shoulders are tightened, and the way your bottom lip wobbles. He sees the way you look at him in disgust, in hatred, you hate him you shouldn’t even be looking at him right now, but you’re so in disbelief that he could conjure such a claim to you that, like a car accident, you can’t look away. Your eyes glaze over his body in distain and god, fuck, he would do anything, worship any gods, fight any evil and give up his greatest treasures if it meant you’d never look at him like this again.

“Why would you say that?” You whimper, and he sees your hand twitch as it makes a move to wipe the tear, but you never connect the movement. The tear falls, and so does your clenched hand. “Did that make you feel better? To hurt me like that?”

“No,” he chokes. “No, no, this isn’t right, I didn’t mean that-“

“You sure had a hell of a time hiding it,” you scoff, and your arms come up to hug yourself, an action that he should be doing, but he feels like if he moves he’s going to shatter. “God, fuck, what were you thinking?”

“I wasn’t,” he rasps. He cards a big hand through his hair, “fuck, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to say that, not to you, never to you.” His hands ball into fists as he loses himself, “fuck, fuck fuck, god, I swear I didn’t mean that, I would never-“

“But you did, Sukuna,” you wail in anguish. “And you said it so easily, what, do you have someone else on the back burner?”

“I don’t!” He says, mind melting and heart pounding because he ruined this, he ruined one of the few good things in his life, all with one stupid phrase he never should’ve even let cross his mind, let alone his lips. “It’s only you, I’m only ever obsessed with you! I love you!”

Love is not a word Sukuna uses. It’s more well intentioned hugs and kisses, he’s a shower not a teller, and he takes in a big gulp of air as the foreign word tingles his tongue. You blink at him in awe, and he lets out a shaky sigh, “god, fuck, I love you. And… And-And-And I’d never want to make you hurt this. And I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”

The room is quiet. The air is heavy as sukuna watches you cautiously, not sure where to go from here.

Then, you sniffle and walk towards him. You slip into his arms, and sukuna thinks you’re made of glass, too fragile to be in his cruel embrace. He gently cradles the back of your head as you cry softly into his chest. “I’m sorry,” he echos. “I mean it. Never going to say that shit again.”

“You fucked up,” you sniffle.

He swallows the thick wad in his throat and blinks up to the sky, begging to be grounded in his heightened state.

“I know.”

“I hate you.”

But he’s got you, for now. That’s all he cares about, and if you ever smarten up and leave him for the dirt he is, he’d never blame you.

But for now…

“I know.”

[fastandcarlos]

Kisses For You : ̗̀➛ Lando Norris

summary: 2.6k of the fluffiest early morning with lando

A faint groan escaped from you as a change in colour disturbed your sheet. Lando couldn’t help but chuckle as the shutter then went down.

“You’re an idiot, you mumbled, pulling the duvet up tighter around your body, hoping somehow that the morning hadn’t arrived just yet.

“Yeah…but I’m your idiot,” Lando couldn’t help but tease, a quiet snigger coming from him as you pushed further into the pillow. “You looked too cute.”

Lando continued to hold his phone tight in his hand as he studied your features quietly. Your eyes were still shut, but the corners of your mouth had turned up, no matter how annoyed you wanted to be at Lando for disturbing your sleep, you could never truly stay made at him for long. His hand comes up, brushing through your hair, tucking the loose strands behind your ear.

“I love seeing you when you’re like this.”

“Like what?” You asked in confusion, shuffling your frame closer to where Lando laid, hissing slightly at the change in temperature across your bed. Your spot was toasty, but now you found yourself laying in the cold. Lando reacts straight away, placing his hand against your waist to try and squeeze you just a couple of centimetres closer towards where he was.

“So sleepy.”

As soon as he finishes speaking, Lando presses his first kiss of the day to the top of your head, feeling his heart quicken slightly.

You could only chuckle, “yep, you’re still an idiot.”

Lando knew you never meant it as you tucked your head into his chest, you loved to tease him and try and wind him up. He was happy though, he didn’t care what you were doing, it was just nice for him to be home. He loved being able to wake up with all of his comforts around him, but most of all he loved waking up knowing that his best friend was right beside him. Those moments were the ones he loved to capture, the ones when you were at your most comfortable, a side to you that no one else in the world got to see, because no one else made you feel like Lando did.

That was the moment when Lando was reminded of your previous night, the passion and relief mixed perfectly together as the two of you reunited.

Your touch was always what Lando craved the most whenever the two of you were apart. The feeling of your fingertips desperately digging into his arm, fearful that he would go again, or how you called out his name and threw your head back, giving him the satisfaction that he was the reason you felt so good. Lando struggled to believe sometimes that the two of you still had so much lust and attraction after so many years, but the feeling of making you feel as if you were the top of the world was something that he would never tire of. Where you found yourselves was an entirely different moment from last night, but that didn’t stop you still sending Lando’s mind into overdrive. If he was honest, his mind was always filled with thoughts of you, those moments he captured in his memory, the ones he treasured forever.

He was lost in his own little world at that point, entirely unaware of the trail of kisses that you had left across his collarbone, still smelling the effects of last night as your nose tickled his bare skin.

Lando was hungrier than ever last night.

Soon enough Lando rejoins you in the room, letting you know as he reciprocates your kisses, pressing several to your forehead, poking his finger gently against the side of your arm.

It was lazy. It was comfortable. It was everything that the two of you enjoyed together.

“You’re so beautiful,” Lando whispered against the top of your head, “how did I ever get so lucky?” He then asks, following up with yet another kiss.

“It’s too early for you to be this cheesy,” you laughed, relaxing your hand over the top of his heart.

“It’s true,” Lando argued in reply, “you’re funny, smart, caring, trusting, selfless, considerate, and pretty damn good in bed, I could go on and on,” he added, breaking each word with a kiss, hearing you laugh at his last words. His voice was sincere, Lando was incredibly fond of you and over the years he had made sure to be more and more vocal about the effect that you had on him.

As much as you want to tease him, you can’t. A shiver runs down your spine, knowing full well that your cheeks were a dark crimson once Lando had finished talking. You felt like you were floating on a cloud, if Lando wasn’t there holding onto you, you were sure that you would roll off the bed in a fit of giggles and excitement. He somehow had the control, knowing you weren’t particularly happy about being woken up, he’d soon turned things around and wrapped you around his finger again.

At last, Lando watched as you opened up your eyes, eyelids fluttering at the bright light. “You’re the best.”

Your hand on his chest pushed gently against him, the exhaustion in your expression was clear to Lando as you moved lazily opposite him.

“You’re just the best human ever.”

“I don’t think many would agree,” you laughed, “but luckily for me, your opinion means the most.”

“And yours does to me.” Lando responded.

“Really? I wasn’t expecting that,” you admitted, with how many people Lando had to impress day to day, you always thought you were low on that list, you were powerless compared to some.

“It’s always you.”

And that was the moment where Lando crumbled.

He suddenly found himself unable to speak, barely able to look at you as his sudden confession turned him into a weak mess beside you too.

Deep down your opinion meant the world to him, he always wanted to do right by you and know that you always had a smile on your face.

“I love you,” he spoke, so quiet you could barely hear him as he pressed a kiss again to the top of your head to be able to hide his own embarrassment. “I love everything about you.”

“I know,” you replied, your voice quiet too, “you told me that plenty of times last night you know.”

“And I meant it too.”

Every single last word spoken, Lando had meant.

“I’ll always mean it, I never will quite understood how I managed to find someone like you.”

A comfortable silence descended upon the two of you, your hand tracing on Lando and his arm shaking around your waist managed to do all the talking for you both.

“I mean I always knew that true love existed, but I never imagined that love would feel this good, it still overwhelms me, still leaves me wanting more of you every second of every day.”

A shaky breath escapes from Lando as he gives himself a moment to find his composure again, knowing you’re holding onto his every word.

“I wish I knew your secrets, try to understand why you make me feel this way. All I ever want to do is protect you, make you feel as loved as you deserve to be.” Your head tilted back as Lando spoke, moving your hand up to cup the side of his face, feeling him press a kiss to your fingertips. “Everything about you just drives me crazy.”

You couldn’t quite believe what you were hearing from Lando, although he had a tendency to be sentimental with you, this morning someone had opened up the floodgates.

It always seemed to be the way, once the two of you came down from your high the previous night, Lando would fill you back up with loving reminders again.

“You know there are no secrets to share, I’m just me…just happy…with you,” you whispered, brushing the pad of your thumb against his cheek.

For the first time in a while, Lando met your eyes. His heart swelled as the wide smile on your face suddenly took his breath away.

“How do you always manage to find the right thing to say?” Lando enquired, shaking his head at you.

“Surprisingly sweet for someone broken from their sleep a few minutes ago, right?” You joked.

You wished there was more to it, but being honest, you often found yourself pondering the same thing.

“You can get some more sleep if you want, I don’t mind.”

Lando took a hold of your hand and tried to tuck it back into the duvet so that you could snuggle back down to sleep again, but you were having none of it. You were wide awake now, admiring the view that had finally returned before you after so long being there all alone.

“Do you think you’ll ever stop?” You then asked as Lando took your hand and pressed several kisses to the back of it. “You’re not out of kisses?”

His head shook proudly, “for you? There’s no such thing I’m afraid.”

As much as he wanted to mess with you, Lando admittedly was quite concerned by your lack of sleep, the two of you had barely slept the night before, too busy reminding one another of what you had missed out on.

“I bet you can’t keep on doing this forever Lan.”

“Is that a challenge for me?” He pushed, attacking your cheek with several feather-like kisses. “Because I can guarantee you that I’ll never tire of kissing you y/n.”

Your eyebrows raised as Lando seemed to throw down the gauntlet, not that you ever doubted him.

“Sorry? I can’t quite hear an answer from you babe.”

“Shut up will you,” you smiled innocently, “I love you.”

Those three words were still special to Lando, and as he heard them for the first time that day, his body froze in delight.

As his smile grew, you reached behind you and picked up your own phone from your bedside table, opening up the camera. You leant back slightly so that Lando was in full view of your shot, snapping the moment his smile was at his widest, knowing that photo would come in handy next time he went away. As the shutter went down, Lando came forwards, tickling against your waist.

“That’s not fair,” he laughed, a wave of euphoria running down his spine as he heard your laughter echo around the room.

Lando carried on for a few moments, knowing to stop as soon as heard you calling out his name, struggling to catch your breath.

The smirk on his face made you want to hit against him, curse him for being so cocky when it came to his ability to tease you. But you couldn’t. Because deep down you loved it. You loved when he pushed your buttons and tried to tip you over the edge.

His proud smile was impossible though.

You hated him for it.

You hated how well he knew you.

How much he loved to love you.

But opposite you, you knew that Lando felt the exact same way.

“Aren’t you the cutest!”

“Go away,” you scoffed as Lando clasped his arms around your frame to pull you back into him.

His head shook in response to your request.

“You don’t want me to leave,” he argued.

Could you respond? No. Was Lando correct? Absolutely. You wanted him to stay more than anything and never leave you again. You wanted him as he was right now, playing with your hair and showering you with all kinds of affection, the affection that you missed and craved so badly when he was off and racing around the world. Feeling the warmth of his frame beside you felt like home, the safe space you were desperate for.

Your brief moment was broken by Lando capturing your lips, telling by your eyes you were losing yourself pretty deep.

“I love being yours.”

It felt like you found yourself in one of those cheesy romcoms, the type that you watched when you were a child and dreamt of one day hopefully having a relationship like it. Although now, it was your reality. Everything that you’d dreamed of as a child was now coming true, and that was all thanks to Lando. Thanks to the man who stared at you with such adoration you felt weak at the knees.

“I’m sure there are many people around the world who would disagree with that,” you chimed.

Lando pouted in response to your words, “they’re all liars, the only person in the world that I want to be with…is you.”

Your hand returned to the side of his face, “I bet none of them miss you like I do.”

“And I bet that however much you missed me, I missed you so much more,” he couldn’t help but tease, ignoring the shakes of your head as you tried to argue against him.

You want to speak, but Lando shuts you, pressing a kiss to your parted lips before anything escapes.

“You’re impossible,” you whisper against his lips as Lando pulls away ever so slightly. “How am I ever supposed to win against you when this is how you treat me?”

Lando shrugged, he didn’t want you to win, not when him winning resulted in peppering kisses all over your body and face.

“I love you,” he found himself announcing again.

Some could be forgiven for being intimidated by the closeness of Lando, but you knew him better, you knew how much he needed you close by.

“I know, and I love you too,” you reminded him, not that Lando ever doubted you for a second.

“Everything about you is perfect,” Lando spoke, coming back at you, trailing his finger tips alongside either side of your body, feeling the goosebumps against your skin.

“Lando, stop.”

He pondered for a moment, but eventually Lando did as you asked. “Stop what?” He asked, opting for the innocent choice.

“We can’t do this again.”

As much as you wanted to push Lando away, still feeling the effects from last night, he was like an irresistible force beside you who you could never avoid for long.

He had known you long enough to know exactly how to get you where he wants you for his own satisfaction, and mostly, how to get exactly what he wants from you too.

“I know what you’re thinking,” you told him, reading Lando like a book. “I promise, later, I just can’t right now.”

“I get it,” Lando assured you, never wanting to push you to anything. “We can do kisses now, and maybe other things can wait until later.”

“Thank you,” you whispered, “I don’t mean to disappoint or anything.”

You were doing anything but, if Lando was anything, he was understanding, he knew where the line was and never overstepped it.

“You could never do such a thing y/n.”

Lando gave you a moment to settle again, smiling widely as you chose to settle against his chest, draping your arm across his frame as his wrapped around your own.

“Y/n,” Lando whispered as you both found yourselves staring up at the ceiling.

“Yeah Lan?”

“Let’s stay here today, right in this spot.”

“You mean all day?”

“Yeah,” Lando cheered, keen to savour as much of the time he had with you as possible. “This is where I want to be with you.”

“Let’s do it,” you chimed, much to Lando’s delight. “A lazy day in bed with you sounds like a dream right now.”

Lando squeezes you tighter against his chest.

“Don’t forget all those kisses too.”

˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ´ˎ˗

[kyhgwts]

Older!König x Fem!Reader

I love the idea of gentle and shy older!König but then he’s just an absolute beast in bed, like please? For my sanity?

Just imagine him being so quiet and put off to himself around everyone but you.

Walking around in the grocery store he’s trailing behind you as you push the cart, silently messing with your shirt nervously when someone comes up to you and makes small talk. He doesn’t dare make eye contact with them. It’s not that he is scared, god no, look at the man. But he just isn’t comfortable showing his real self to people who aren’t you. Maybe only your very close friends who come over a lot, but other than that? Absolutely no one.

He’s just so UGH like a big soft bear, silent and kept to himself but if anyone dares to mess with his territory (you) all hell will break loose.

He hates being out in public without you, because then you aren’t there to do all the talking. And he isn’t an asshole, so he has to respond back to people.

“Oh! Hi König!” He turns back to look at someone who he registered as a close friend of yours.

“Hallo” he smiles gingerly, he knew this friend of yours well enough they came over a lot, and he wasn’t shy by them.

“Where’s your attachment at?” They ask, smiling at their own joke. It almost makes him chuckle but that’s too far out of his comfort zone.

“Back at home, got sick” he would explain shortly, but not in a rude way because he respected this friend, they meant a lot to you.

“Well alright big guy, I’ll leave you alone. Tell her i said get well!” They said making their way for the end of the aisle, he just nodded.

How is he so big, but so gentle?!?! He’s so perfect :(

Like the perfect cocoon, laying in bed, you straddling his lap as you nuzzle your head into his chest and neck. His big arms holding you tight against him as he takes in your presence, the heat from your body, the weight of you making him feel secure, your hair wash smelling so good, as well as your perfume you always have on, he fucking loved it.

But oh if this man is in a mood? You have the time of your life.

“König! Please” you’d moan and cry, tear prickling from your eyes.

“Please what baby?” He’d ask all innocent, while he’s pounding into you, stuffing you so full you can’t even think clearly :(

He’d push down on your stomach, causing you to gasp at the familiar sensation.

“Yes! Yes yes yes yes” you’d sob, pushing down your hips trying to fuck yourself on him.

“My Süßes Mädchen“ he’d whisper, all while never giving you a break, pounding into you with his hand pressed hard into your stomach. (Sweet Girl)

The sound of skin against skin making him go feral, the wet sounds as he pounds into you making your cheeks go red, but he fucking loved it.

“Come on Kostbarkeit, let go for me baby” he groans, your tears streaming down your face in pure ecstasy. You loved this side of him, so masculine and beautiful. Taking care of you and that deep feelings in your stomach :( (Treasure)

Once you’ve came, and you’ve milked him for all he’s got he carefully lays himself on top of you. Making sure not to crush you. And loving on you like no other, head nuzzled into your neck as he kissed it, and hands roaming your body as he kept you close and your legs wrapped around his waist.

“Fuck Mein Baby, i just can’t get enough of you” he’d whisper while his hands slide under your back, hands meeting up behind your head cradling it as pulls you closer.

You moan from the movement, his cock still deep inside of you.

You could stay like this forever, in his embrace, feeling so full and content.

You didn’t leave that bed for another few hours, as he made soft love to you, making sure you felt his love as he slowly rocked into you.

Life was perfect with your perfect boy around :(

[bbokicidal]

"You're So Much Alike." - [B.C.]

Summary: Where you meet his mother for the first time and capture a picture that you will treasure for years to come.

Warnings: None, just a lotta fluff.

Notes: Based on the photo above where Chris recreated his childhood picture w/ his mom.

"When was this?" Your eyes turn to your boyfriend beside you and his head tips in your direction, eyes following only a moment later. A bright smile is plastered on his face as he was previously having a conversation with his mom to the opposite side of himself.

His teeth grit as his lips pull apart in a quiet hiss of thought. "Ah... Mm." His lips press together, brows furrowing as he looks at the picture. "Think I was.. four? Three? Three or four." He nods curtly, eyes drawing up to where you stare at him. ".... What?"

Your smile grows the longer you peer up at him. He doesn't seem to realize how absolutely adorable the photo currently in your hand is. "Nothing. I just love you."

Chan's eyes wander over your own before he giggles, his hand falling to rest on your knee. "I love you too, sweetheart."

"Oh, I was so young here." His mother reaches for the photo, gently taking it from your hand to look down at it. The look on her face seems to say without words that it brings back wonderful memories she couldn't ever forget.

"Please," You murmur, catching her attention with a soft smile. "You look the exact same, Mrs. Bang."

It was kind of his mother to offer to show you baby photos of him. You hadn't necessarily expected it during your first meeting with her, but she seemed more than excited to show you the silly pictures of Chan in the bath, or pictures of him covered in birthday cake when he was two years old. He'd gotten a bit embarrassed at the bath pictures, begging his mother not to show them to you before she countered back with; "What? She's seen it all before anyway!"

And you couldn't argue with that, laughing along as you squeeze his hand in your own. "I mean, she isn't wrong."

You felt incredibly lucky to be able to tag along on this opportunity - visiting Australia with Chan for the first time. The majority of the day is spent relaxing at his family home and getting to know his family; Unfortunately Lucas and Hannah are with their friends, which you can't fault them for, but you get to spend the day with his parents. And Berry, of course.

Their pup seems to take a love to you, following you around instead of sticking to Chan. She sits at your feet while you lean against the kitchen counter and watch his father cook lunch for the group of you; And she treads only a foot or two behind you as you move to dance with Chan's mother in the dining room to the soft music that plays through the house. The room is filled with laughter and the soft banter she exchanges with you on how she may have to steal you from her son with just how charming you are.

Lunch is quiet and soothing, bodies filled with warm home cooked food and Chan's mother asking just how the two of you met - where you saw yourself in ten years, what kind of career you were interested in, and how you felt about her son. Typical first meeting types of questions - But, she seems happy with all of your answers and while you aren't looking, shares an exchanged glance with her son that is telling him to marry you.

It ends as you excuse yourself from the table and move to help Chan at the sink, washing the dishes from preparing the meal and drying them off as he handed them to you. He smiles at you helping him out, about to tell you to go shoo so he can take care of it himself and let you relax. His eyes wander in your direction as you suddenly ask if his father needs another wife - widening in surprise and whispering a soft, "Excuse me?" in shock.

"What? He's literally you but a little older!"

"Are you tryna marry my dad right now--"

-

His father excuses himself from the home about an hour later, something work related beckoning him away. His mother suggests a walk around the park Chan use to run about in when he was little and you eagerly agree, wanting to see more of the local scenery. It's pleasant, a breeze wafting through your hair and brushing over your shoulders as you go. Berry's leash is held careful but firm in your palm and she treads nearby, tail wagging in excitement at just being out.

Without being fully aware of it, you'd fallen behind the mother-and-son duo after being caught up in admiring the nature around you. As your eyes draw back to the pair ahead, you stop walking and Berry takes a few more steps before halting as well. She turns to look up at you in curiosity and when you crouch down, she comes closer to rub her nose against your arm. Hand digging in your pocket, you pull out your phone and let the pair continue walking without disturbing them. Lifting your phone to snap a photo, the picture on your screen looks lovingly familiar to one you had seen earlier.

Chan seemed extremely grateful when you showed him the picture later on - and his mother even more so that evening. His father peeked over her shoulder before gently giving the woman a shake of admiration, hugging her around the waist shortly after. "Jessica, you don't look a day over thirty." And she laughs, swatting at his arm.

Your eyes dart to Chan's and he blinks, meeting your gaze a moment later. Your eyes narrow. "Why am I just now finding out that your mom's name is Jessica?"

[utterlyazriel]

the green emotion

someone requested jealous!azriel and i... made up a whole plot. i hope it's decent and fulfills the craving ! i'm a firm believer than he's so silly when he gets jealous <3 friends to lovers, about 4k

Azriel was not a jealous Male.

That was what he told himself. Jealousy was something that possessed the likes of Cassian or Rhys, driven to territorial acts that likened them to wild beasts. Fueled by their protectiveness, their senses dulled beyond reason.

Jealousy was a sharp whip with a taunting bite and Azriel was one of few who did not bend beneath it.

He had adopted a strength over millennia, an iron will, that prevented him from harboring such unsavory feelings. He was a stronger male than that, not so easily willed by strong ugly emotions such as jealousy.

That was what he told himself — as he tailed behind you, hanging back far enough you could not detect his presence, his shadows shrouding him.

It was reaching evening in Velaris, the last remnants of the sun's dappled light scattered across the cobblestones. You were clothed in a velvet cloak that reached down to your ankles. Its hood was drawn up, to cover your face.

If Azriel didn’t know you so well, not the weight of your steps and the lithe you carried yourself with, you may have slipped by unnoticed.

But Azriel was the Spymaster for a reason — and you were keeping secrets.

Truly, it itched and picked at him as he turned reason over and over again in his mind as he followed you. What possible reason could you have for skirting around in the dark? To slip from your friends and cloak yourself, wishing to remain unseen on the streets of your home?

It didn’t make sense to him. No thoughts of treason ever breached his mind. You wouldn’t dare, he knew that. You treasured your family as deeply as Azriel did himself, having bled and fought for your space beside them many years ago.

But as Azriel traced the path you walked, knowing you were fully in your right to go about your business however you pleased, it couldn’t be ignored. Logic kept pointing fingers in the same direction.

If he did not suspect you of withholding vital information from your court, then his quiet tailing must be fueled by something else. Something as trivial as an emotion such as…. jealousy.

Azriel bristled at the thought and his wings shook silently behind him, as if shaking off some imaginary snow.

He did not get jealous.

He was simply… ensuring the safety of his court. Which included your own safety. Even the thought made him grimace in the shadows, knowing the smack he would receive from Cassian if his brother ever heard the implication you couldn’t fend for yourself.

You most certainly could. Azriel and Cassian had both spent their fair share of hours battling against you in the fighting ring, training you up.

And it’s hardly likely that the image of you — donned in your fighting leathers, forehead beaded with sweat, chest heaving as you gripped your sword tight and grinned across the ring — was something Azriel would forget anytime soon.

Cauldron boil him if he ever had to admit aloud just how often he thought of that image.

Still, something within him kept his feet moving, footsteps as quiet as the night.

Faelight illuminated across the cobbles, the light of the rising moon, brighter in this court than any other, cast across the doorsteps of the townhouses. You had wound through the streets and ended up two streets stray from the Palace of Threads and Jewels. On a doorstep that Azriel had never seen before.

Your hood fell to your shoulders as you pushed it back gently, revealing the column of your throat and the curve of your shoulders. The faint moonlight glided across your skin, a luminous glow curling up against your collarbones. Azriel swallowed from his place in the shadows.

It was never a surprise to find you beautiful. To revere your enchanting otherworldly beauty — that Azriel was used to. And yet still, even after all these years, he had not managed to master the way it stole the breath from his lungs every time.

A familiar hunger yawned within him. He averted his eyes from you to the door.

He forced himself to take in the details, listening as his shadows whispered things his eyes could not attest. An artist's home. Damaged and rebuilt in the last battle of Velaris. The inhabitant was a Male, living alone.

Something blistered awfully inside Azriel.

Why would you visit a home such as this? Azriel could think of a few reasons that could warrant a visit so late in the evening, with your face concealed and your footsteps light. He felt his stomach turn over. Something foul burned in his gut.

The door before you opened and Azriel turned his face fast, slicing his gaze to the ground before he could see the Fae who greeted you.

Suddenly, this felt too close to an invasion of privacy. If you wished to keep your lovers a secret, as he himself did, this was a direct violation of your wishes.

That was... if this man was, indeed, your lover.

Something vulgar, something ugly reared up in his veins. Azriel clenched his fists at his sides, siphons gleaming, and willed it down.

Jealousy would not become him. Jealousy was not— did not control him.

And yet he could feel it, coursing through his blood, choking up his throat. Azriel tried to push it down, to fight against it with reason, with logic. You were promised to no Male, least of all to him. But...

But he could've sworn.

As quickly as the words appeared in his mind, Azriel stamped them down with an icy fury.

A silent curse followed them, directed at himself for his own foolishness. How many times would he walk this road before he eventually learned?

There had been no heated moments between you, no wandering eyes, no lingering hands; none that he had not imagined. None that his mind had no conjured up in its own twisted hope.

When you sought him out in the night, tormented by your own mind and how it kept you from sleep, you were seeking... a friend, Azriel realised bitterly.

There was nothing deeper to your decision to show up at his door but no one else's. Nothing was hidden in the way you chose a seat next to him at every dinner, nor the way you found a way to be beside him at the tables at Rita's.

Sitting close enough so that he could smell the alluring scent of your perfume. Could see the gleam of your bright eyes as you glanced at him after every joke, almost as if to see what might make him smile.

No. He steeled himself, shutting down every sweet moment of you he had been subconsciously collecting, holding to a greater magnitude than you clearly did.

You were not like Mor or Cassian. You did not warm the sheets of many Fae beds, slipping in and out of them without a care.

You were... alike to himself, Azriel had thought. Dedicated yourself to one.

He scowled at himself in the dark. This— this rendezvous in the dark did not dispel what he knew about you. It did not make it untrue.

It simply meant his feeble hope, that the one, the Fae you might dedicate yourself entirely was him... was just that—a hope.

It did not sway the reality of the world, the matter of truth that you crept out in the night to meet on shadowed doorsteps. Azriel felt his shadows smoking around him, spun into a frenzy at his unwelcome revelation. He snapped in his wings a little tighter.

Coming here tonight, following you, had been a mistake.

—

It seemed perfectly logical after that night for Azriel to take a step back, to rein himself in.

Not that there was not much to rein back — but the small actions reserved just for you, the unrestrained smiles, the inside jokes ribbed back at one another.

The things he had perceived as meaning more. He knew, that if he wanted to protect his heart from further ache, he should stop doing them.

But... maybe the only thing he did better than fighting, he thought grievously, was being utterly lovesick for someone who would never feel the same.

At the very least, he would hold his feelings to secrecy. It began with the smallest retractions, like weaning an addict off their favourite drug.

Azriel knew if he pulled away too quick, it would send him into a sort of withdrawal — and after all these years spent together, he wasn't sure he knew how to live with a deficit of you. Of your brazen smile and sparkling eyes.

Slow and sure. Over the next week, he willed himself to quit bothering you, to empty a space in your life so you could invite in others, those that meant more to you. So, there could be space for your new... lover.

Even the word sounded bitter in his mind.

Azriel opted for longer training in the morning. Let his sparring sessions with Cassian bleed longer and longer, not leaving the blazing hot rooftop even when Cass winds up limping inside.

He had received a halfhearted scowl from the warrior, undoubtedly for how unrelenting he had been in his fighting this week.

The time he usually sets aside for you, to read side by side in the library, to bake, to enjoy each other's company — Azriel swept it aside for you, to free up your schedule.

Noticed how you spend your free time down in Velaris. He doesn't dare tail you again.

The week crawls by slowly, stretching out thick, black tar.

Come Sunday, a day you normally reserved for spending with him, Azriel knows his extra insistence on training isn't enough of an excuse to keep you away. He trains late anyway.

True to his suspicions, it takes less than an hour for you to appear— having come to find him.

Azriel can sense you, even before his shadows murmur sweet things in his ears about the most beautiful Fae watching him through the window.

You're lingering at the door, unusually reserved. He can feel your hesitancy, even as he works his aching muscles through yet another set of exercises. His shadows stay in close, the edge of his body whispering in and out of darkness, his siphons gleaming.

You wait, watching quietly, until the sword he's wielding, a strong, broad Illyrian blade, is placed down to rest. Then, there's the soft pad of your feet as you step out into the training area. He hears you coming but he does not turn to face you.

“I've missed you this week.”

Even with his back turned, Azriel fights to keep his expression neutral, even as his eyes flutter at your admission. There's a tug on his shadows, their desire to wisp across to you proving a challenge to resist. He holds himself still, stern, and doesn't even a ruffle of his wings to indicate he's heard you.

"I—" Azriel begins. He still can't bear to turn to face you. "I'm sorry to hear that."

He can hear the noise of confusion that slips from your throat — evidently, it isn't the response you're expecting.

Azriel focuses on the sword before him, his bicep bulging as he lifts its weight and wanders to the stand of weapons. He pretends to be immersed in the decision of which to train with next, even though he's been out here for hours.

Even with his silent cold shoulder, he can still hear you behind him, your feet dragging softly across the ground in what is surely a hesitant nervous action. But still, you haven't left.

"Well, maybeee…" You continue on, voice still aiming for light and breezy, as if he hasn't been avoiding you. You're still trying.

Azriel's chest tightens up with a familiar ache, one that always lingers around you. Since seeing you that night, on another Male's doorstep, its sting has become particularly cruel. Jealousy has a cold bite.

"If you’re nearly done... I mean, if your somewhat obsessive workout regime is finally complete..."

You're winding on, taking jabs that would normally make him smile. You'd take a gentle rolling of his eyes at this point. Azriel turns to you, his face remaining passive.

"I was wondering if you wanted to come sit with me in the library," You say, voice suddenly softer now that he's facing you. "If you’re not too busy, that is.”

Azriel steels himself, eyes cutting to the ground as he forces himself to not wilt beneath your hopeful gaze. He knew it would be hard to pull himself away from you but this? This is nearing torture.

He clears his throat. “I am.”

He turns and begins to peel off the layers of Illyrian leathers from his torso, remaining diligent at keeping himself from caving to you. He can feel the ugly emotion rolling just beneath the surface, a gruesome green monster that threatens his usual composure.

Behind him, he hears your soft, saddened oh. His wings give a tiny shiver at it, even as he continues the methodical process of unwinding after training.

Piece by piece, his armor comes off, until even his shirt has been shed. His skin glistens under the shine of the afternoon sun, the muscles beneath rippling and sore from exertion.

There's a moment of silence and Azriel keeps his head bowed as he gathers himself, prepared to bathe the sweat and grime off himself. It wasn't a complete lie he had told.

Perhaps, he thinks wistfully, he could wash some of his unjust jealousy away with it. Being so unwound by his feelings is taking its toll on him, considering how unused to it he is. He waits, ears keenly listening for the sign of your departure.

After a minute of quietness, he can only assume you've slipped away silently. He sighs, half in relief and half in his sorrow.

"What are you busy doing?"

Your voice pipes up and Azriel glances behind him, surprised that you haven't left after all. His wings tuck in a little tighter.

"y/n." He murmurs your name and it comes out almost as a plea. Now, faced with you pulling apart his loose lie, Azriel finds he doesn't have it within him to lie to your face. "Please."

You don't say anything.

Azriel's shadows dance around him, agitated and frenzied, and he wills them to calm— though, that had always been an impossible request in your presence. He takes a sharp inhale and walks towards the door, leaving you behind on the rooftop.

He gets halfway down the hallway, heading for his room before your voice calls out again.

"Busy avoiding me?"

You've followed him from the training ring and now you stand at the end of the hallway, your arms crossed firmly across your chest. Your face is contorted into a hard expression, a furrow between your brows.

Azriel sighs and turns back to you. He hadn't been able to keep his secret from Mor — why, oh why did he think that he would have any more luck when it came to you?

You— enigmatic, wonderful you. Maybe, all Azriel hopes to do today is to delay the inevitable rejection for a different day. An easier day.

A day where he isn't feeling so easily undone by his the enormity of his envy. Envious of what he can't have but so desperately desires.

As he turns to face you, it's impossible to miss the way your eyes dart down to his bare chest. You stare for a moment too long and it looks like it takes an effort to drag your eyes up. You swallow heavily, the bob of your throat unmissable. Even from afar, Azriel swears there's a glow to your cheeks.

No. No, he wasn't doing that to himself anymore! He wouldn't— he couldn't be having those thoughts about you anymore. You had a lover for Mother's sake.

"I'm not—"

"Oh my Gods, don't even try to say you're not avoiding me." You interrupt him sharply. You begin to stamp your way down the hallway, eyes narrowed, your annoyance clear to see.

A door in the hallway opens. Distracted by something over his shoulder, Cassian takes a blundering loud step out into the hallway before he freezes.

He spots you first, eyes widening and wings bunching up at your obvious fury. His head turns, finding Azriel down the other end of the hallway.

"Oh... Mother, this is happening now, huh? I'm just gonna— uh, get food later." He jerks his thumb over his shoulder, quickly turning and disappearing back into his room. His door closes with a quiet snip.

In the moment of distraction, you don't notice how Azriel has moved away stealthily— his shadows aiding his quiet getaway. He's not entirely sure what his plan is; he doubts he can avoid this argument by simply shutting himself in his room. Turns out, he's selfish enough to be willing to try.

Sure enough, it takes another moment before his wings twitch, his shadows reporting on your incoming footsteps moments before he hears them himself.

He busies himself with digging through his drawers and sends a silent request to the House, praying it might keep the door locked against you.

He can do this— he can swallow down his burning heart and keep your friendship he values so dearly, he swears he can. Just not today.

He hears the door open.

Glancing up, he narrows his eyes at the House and calls it a foul word in his mind. The Faelights of his room seem to twinkle mischievously in response.

"Az," You breathe softly.

His name sounds unbearably tender coming from your lips. His wings give a little rustle, curling closer around himself.

Despite his lack of reply, you aren't deterred. He can hear your footsteps, gentle and not at all like your prior furious stomps down the hallway, as they wind around his bed.

Chest stirring with an old ache, he keeps himself facing away. He slips a shirt on and prays you give him one more day to rein in his treacherous heart. One more day. He just can't do it today.

"Did I... Did I do something?"

Your voice is suddenly a lot smaller.

Azriel softens instantly at the sound of it, feeling his resolve begin to crumble. He crushes his eyes closed and thinks of what he had seen down in Velaris — forces himself to imagine you with another Male, in his arms, in his bed.

But even if his jealousy is so terribly unwarranted, he cannot bring himself to lie to you.

"No," The word grates out his throat roughly.

Because it's the truth. You hadn't done anything wrong and— and Azriel refused to hurt you just because he couldn't contain a few rampant feelings.

"Really?" The tinge of annoyance is back in your words and Azriel can't even blame you.

"Because then why it is that you have been avoiding me since— since the day I was-"

You cut your own words off and Azriel fills in the blank on his own. Since the day down in the city—where I saw you entering another Male's home, hidden in your cloak, like you were meeting a lover— and even though you're completely allowed to do that, I am like every other gods forsaken jealous Male in Prythian, getting upset over this, even if you are not truly mine.

He turns to you finally, his hands clenched at his side and he wills the next sentence out.

"What or who you choose to spend your free time with—" He inhales a long breath, forcing his face to remain neutral even as he feels his teeth grit together. "—is none of my concern."

Your face scrunches up, confused. Then the furrow between your eyebrows is back and Azriel feels a tad nervous. You aren't often angry, least of all with him.

"Cauldron boil me," You bury your face into your hands for a second. Then you drag them down languidly with a groan, peeking up at him over your hands.

"Did you follow me?"

Azriel feels a bit off-guard. His voice isn't as sure when he says, "It is my duty to survey my court."

You bristle a little at that and the nervousness within him grows a little bigger.

"'Who I choose to spend my time with?'" You repeat his words back to him with a tone of incredulity, your hands motioning wildly before you. Faintly, Azriel begins to sense the feeling of foolishness rising within him.

"For Mother's sake, Az, I was buying you a birthday gift, not sleeping with him!"

The moment the words burst from your lips, two things happen. Azriel stiffens, the true nature of your stealthy endeavor through Velaris making a fool of him indeed.

You were... cloaked and hidden because you had been planning a surprise. For him. For his birthday. Something he hadn't even considered was around the corner as it held no high merit with him. His eyes widen and his lips part an inch.

And you — you straighten up, eyes wide, looking as though you've been struck by lightning.

"You were jealous." You gasp.

Not a question, a statement.

"No," Azriel denies, without thinking. His heart rabbits in his chest. The irony of acting out the way he did, because jealousy had blinded him in the first place, is not lost on him.

Suddenly, all his envy is washed away, replaced quickly by a bumbling foolish embarrassment. He wishes he could winnow out of the House. He considers the window behind him for a moment, if only to spare himself from revealing his true feelings to you.

One glance back at your face, your expression edging towards crestfallen, and any thoughts of running away vanishes.

"Yes." He quickly amends, voice meek.

His wings give a little shudder, twisting in closer as he realises what he's admitted aloud. How there was no coming back from this.

No one had ever made him as loose-tongued as you do. Azriel is embarrassed to be caught stumbling over his words.

"I realise..." He croaks out, suddenly finding the slats of the floorboards immensely more interesting. His shadows have slowed from their nervous frenzy, making lazy motions instead, as if to soothe him. "That may not be ideal. My feelings, that is."

A beat of silence. Azriel studies a spot on the floor intently. His heart flounders wildly behind his ribs. His embarrassment seeps something closer to mortification.

Your shoes peek into the edge of his vision and Azriel's head shifts up slowly, his hazel eyes finding yours and burning into them.

His shadows whisper a thousand things to him — but all of them are dulled, quietened, as he simply stares at you. Feels something between the pair of you hang in the balance, just a breeze from unraveling.

Your eyes are bright. Acutely, he realises he can smell relief rolling off you in heavy waves. Amongst it, too, is a hint of... happiness. Happiness.

“Oh, you big Illyrian baby,” You coo, a teasing lilt to your tone.

His cheeks grow warm. Something white-hot tips down his spine as you step in closer, swaying into his space. He can smell the alluring scent of you and his heart thrums in his chest at your nearness, aching to be closer.

"Some spymaster you are, huh?" You say, voice barely above a whisper.

Azriel stays silent but his head tilts to the side just an inch in his puzzlement, his eyebrows knitting together. Hazel eyes peer at you with such an intensity that it sends goosebumps crawling across your skin— his eyes searching your face for answers to his thousand questions.

"Knowing everything except for this." You continue, words feather-soft.

You don’t say what this is but Azriel thinks he knows. Hopes he knows. His hands at his sides clench tighter, his fingers curled up into fists, and the motion catches your attention.

Moving so slowly, you reach out and gingerly take his wrist between your delicate fingers. Azriel lets you. A whine crawls up in the back of his throat and his swallows it back down.

He watches closely as you pull his hand up, forward, cradling it with your own two. His fingers twitch, so unfamiliar with such tender touches.

The shadows scouring around his shoulders burst into a frenzy, circling down his arms and twirling around your intertwined hands. It's as though they're... dancing, Azriel thinks.

"I... hoped." He admits quietly, his voice full of longing.

You shift his mottled hand, turning it gently so his palm is facing yours. Then you hold your own up against it, like you're comparing hand sizes.

Azriel can barely tear his eyes off where your hand presses into his to look up at you. Something molten hot begins to scorch through his veins. A realisation. A dream that may be finally answered. It feels like pure starlight.

Your hand is dwarfed against his own scarred one — and when Azriel curls his fingers, they hug the top of yours gently. You press back against his hand, like the smallest hug back.

You murmur back. "You don't need hope."

Your gaze skirts up from your joined hands, your lips twitching into a nervous smile.

Your eyebrows have drawn together in the middle, just a bit, as though what's happening is something you find devastatingly beautiful. As though you think that way about him. About the two of you, together.

Azriel finds himself thinking of all he would give in the world —all the mountains he'd move and dragons he'd slay— for you to keep looking at him that way.

"You already have me."

[satzumosupremacy]

Ignite The Spark

Male reader x Kazuha

Tags: Friends to lovers, Smut 8.1k words

Friends—that’s what you and Kazuha would call each other. People around often get confused if you two were dating secretly, but in reality, she was just a friend who got along with you to the point of looking like a couple.

And if being friends with the opposite gender isn’t enough to raise an eyebrow by others, you knew the consequences, Kazuha did too. As a man, you couldn’t help but imagine a scenario of her being more than a friend. On the other hand, Kazuha had the same exact thought after years of knowing each you. Although nothing happens romantically, the presence of pride hindered both of you in stubborn ways.

You and Kazuha were prime examples of “right place, wrong time.”

After you transferred to another college for an opportunity that you couldn’t deny, the friendship between both of you slowly disappeared. As curious young adults, it would be a shame just to say the boring and basic goodbyes to each other. Just like how friendships form: thoughts and hobbies alike, her eyes craved more than a mere farewell. You didn’t want this friendship to burden the memories you and Kazuha made.

Both of you yearned for something. That something was in bed. A man and a woman together with the lights off, doors locked, curtains shut. Within a night in the same bed, clothes scattered and the bed creaking, the two of you yearned for this feeling, like you'd never see each other again. It’s a farewell, but a mere excuse. This won’t be the last time you see her. 

Morning brought an uncomfortable shift from friends to more than what both of you actually were. As she slept, her beautiful back was turned towards you while you were up and remembered every moment shared on her bed. She was naked under the blanket once your eyes caught her black bra hanging from the dresser and the hair tie. As you took a quick glimpse of her, Kazuha’s silky hair was a mess, all from the night.

Even as a man, you fantasized about what Kazuha would look like, until you did see her naked body and the goosebumps you felt all over her when your hands gently caressed her. Her back became irresistible to your kisses, while her curves and ass demanded more than a simple touch. Her body was deadly hot when all you ever saw was Kazuha with clothes on. This was the woman who you called a close friend, yet it’s far from the fact that you slept with her. 

Both of you crossed the line. Both of you can’t look back and change what happened. This was bound to happen between opposite genders that calls each other ‘friends.’

You found a treasure within the so-called friendship. The treasure? It was her body. Kazuha rarely wears revealing clothes at school. Neither did she care about showing herself off like the rest of the woman on campus. You're strucking gold—and it's like the end of the rainbow that anyone would search for. Actually, it's not her body that you love more than Kazuha herself. You respect Kazuha—her essence, her character. There's a bond between the two of you. A long-term friendship that isn't breakable at all, even if it bends or twist.

She didn’t regret being the one who asked first for some intimacy. You didn’t regret that night either. This was probably the last time you would physically be there for her, and only sense of regret was the bittersweet feeling of sleeping with a friend that was close to you, but at the end, it turned awkward. As young, curious adults, no one was to blame. 

Kazuha shared an apartment with her roommate, Sakura. The pair rented an apartment conveniently close to the college. Sakura wasn’t at home at the time when you and Kazuha’s hands were all over each other. Maybe Sakura did hear the bed creaking through the wall halfway through after coming back home. It’s something you didn’t want to asked out of embarrassment. 

The feelings you gave Kazuha were were unparalleled, when you respect her for being herself around you. She was, and was quiet at first, but when you talked to her more, Kazuha revealed herself to be ambitious and incredibly kind. You love that about her.

At times, she would share her troubles, and so would you. Yet, it became increasingly apparent that the dynamic of your friendship had changed. It's not like how it was. Both of you were maturing and going each other’s separate ways. Life past by quick considering how the two of you knew each other for years, and thinking back about the days you would often meet her. But neither of you forgot about each other.

Kazuha wasn’t so happy when Sakura had her own opportunities to venture out and left Kazuha alone in the apartment. Kazuha could barely manage the bills. Their relationship ended on good terms, but Kazuha was left all alone in the apartment. 

Kazuha was all over the place, from modeling to working as a barista and tutoring, the jobs couldn't meet her financial needs. Kazuha eventually found her opportunity after numerous jobs and became a ballet instructor. However, it's still not enough. The income she accumulated merely covered necessities and bills, leaving little room for her own interests and activities.

She frequently found herself seated in her living room, contemplating about your well-being. Like the relationship the two of you have right now, she hesitated to reach out, or ask for something. Kazuha revisited past text conversations with a bittersweet smile, reminiscing about the joy you both shared when your paths were closely intertwined.

Asking for money from her friends was like selling her pride. Despite her concerns, Kazuha maintained a smile and masked herself. She smiled if things didn’t go so smoothly, all hidden from everyone. The smile would fade away once she stepped into her apartment, enveloped by silence and solitude, the smile would turn to a frown. No one was there to comfort her. No one was there to eat across the table. Living alone already carried a sense of loneliness, but when Kazuha was going through this herself, it was rather a feeling of being hit rock-bottom. 

——

In the final year of college, you and your friends strolled around town, enjoying the sunshine as you window-shopped and explored. Amidst bustling alleyways lined with food stalls, engaging in multiple conversations and browsing vintage clothing shops, you felt content with your place in life. 

The college you switched to was just a ten-minute drive away. Some might consider it trivial when the two colleges are so close, but for you, the opportunity was invaluable. Despite intending to make time to meet Kazuha, you doubted she would be available, likely preoccupied with her own activities. Similarly, Kazuha likely held the same assumption about you. Regardless, both of you led independent lives, and the only thread connecting you was the fading bond of friendship.

Navigating the bustling marketplace alleys and indulging in the aroma of freshly cooked food from vendors, you spot another group of women approaching. Among them, it's Kazuha who catches your eye. Instantly, you feel the urge to reconnect with her as she savors a worry-free day.

"Where are you headed?" Your friend says after settling the bill to the vendor, while the rest of your friends glanced at you with curious expressions.

“Go without me. We can meet later,” you uttered hastily as you approached Kazuha, whose eyes widened at the sight of you after a prolonged absence. "Zuha!"

Kazuha found it unbelievable. Despite living only ten minutes apart, where the likelihood of encountering each other was high, this was the first time in a year. Either of you could have crossed paths while using transportation or walking in opposite directions on the sidewalk, yet remained unaware of each other's presence.

In silence, Kazuha stood, aware that some of her friends recognized you. "What a coincidence," one of them said. Throughout the interaction, Kazuha remained quiet, her mind racing with thoughts of what she wanted to talk with you.

“May I steal Kazuha away for some time?”

Then there's a moment of silence. It was supposed to be a girls' day out, and you suddenly became the antagonist, trying to take Kazuha away from her friends. "Fine... but bring her back home later. We'll give you two some alone time."

The sunlight reflected off Kazuha’s ocean eyes, illuminating a radiant smile that blossomed unexpectedly when your gazes locked. In that moment, Kazuha was oblivious to the world around her, indifferent to the passersby, solely focused on your presence before her.

"Zuha, how... um—." There was a moment of hesitation, a sense of unworthiness lingering, making it feel almost impossible to ask about her well-being. "How have you been?"

"Everything's fine. I'm glad to see you," Kazuha replied, making an effort to conceal her stress.

“Still living with Sakura? May we spend time together today? It’s been long since.”

"Actually, she got a job offer. So now I'm living alone," Kazuha murmurs, her lips pressing together shyly, her gaze drifting downward. "We should catch up with each other."

A faint, pleasant smile graces your lips as Kazuha steals a quick glance at you. "Have you eat yet, Zuha?"

“No,” she murmurs, strolling alongside you with both your hands brushing against each other, as if she yearned to grasp yours and never release them again. Since your departure, she realized that you’re the person she longed for at day’s end. Kazuha learned through the hard times that you were the one she desired, mistaken for a mere friendship and nothing more.

“I’ll take you to a place that we use to enjoy together, Zuha.”

Kazuha lets out a brief chuckle as she presumes it's the restaurant where you and she used to frequent after classes. Even though it's been a while since you last saw her, you can sense she's even shyer now. Yet, your emotions start lingering around her, like a faint spark awaiting ignition by Kazuha—a love destined to blossom.

Entering the restaurant, you settled directly across from Kazuha, the sunlight bathing her in its glow as you awaited the arrival of your orders from the waitress. Amidst the constant flow of people passing by, Kazuha appeared especially radiant in the sunlight, captivating your attention to the point where you couldn't look away. You found yourself dangerously drawn to the woman you call a friend.

"Zuha," you said, causing her to glance up from the menu. In truth, both of you had already memorized the menu, and she found herself unsure of how to act this time around. “You’re kinda beautiful today,” you lamely said, unable to accept her as a friend at this point. You’re trying to deny what your heart wanted.

From a friendship marked by naivety, to a new chapter in the present, the two of you weren't childish young adults anymore after a year. Despite spending considerable time together, pride runs in both of your veins, neither of you could muster the courage to acknowledge the unmistakable feelings that lingered. A crystal clear new beginning. 

"Thanks," Kazuha murmurs, cheeks glowing as she gaze to the menu. A stray strand of hair falls in front of Kazuha's face, and you gently brush it aside, tucking it behind her ear. Your gesture only adds to the awkwardness as she finds herself speechless and takes a glance around the restaurant. The look of the restaurant didn’t even change, but Kazuha didn’t know what to do when you’re the one sitting across. Before up to this point in time after a year, she was more talkative and would brag about her day to you right in this restaurant, but now, she couldn’t.

Her cheeks flush under the sun's rays, lips pressing against each other as she fights herself to repay a compliment. The atmosphere becomes silent, apart by the clinking of plates and nearby chatter, she's conscious of her growing feelings towards you.

“By the way, I’ll pay today. Don’t worry,” Kazuha says to break the silence. At the same time, all the stress she had been carrying seemed to slip from her mind. The genuine thoughts of her wanting to live with you becomes her topic of interest that she wanted to ask for months.  

“The man should pay, Zuha.”

"You paid last time," she says with a charming smile. The fact that Kazuha remembered such a minor detail from a year ago left you pleasantly surprised.

You sigh, your gaze drifting to her perfectly manicured nails. “I’m still paying. Let me make it up to you for not being there."

“I rather let you make it up with something else.”

“What is it, Zuha?”

The waitress unintentionally breaks the conversation. "Here's your food, enjoy! Don't hesitate to let me know if anything isn't right."

“Thank you,” Kazuha said, followed by you.

The plates shifted, placing your order in front of you, Kazuha's in front of her, and the appetizers to the side. "So, as I was saying... do you mind if I stay with you for the next few days?"

“What do you mean, Zuha?”

"Do you recall that moment we… well, you know, on the bed? It seems like we drifted apart a bit afterward, don't you think? But let's make it up. We were just young adults. We're not quite as young anymore."

“It’s only been a year, Zuha,” you laugh. “You’re welcome to stay with me. Even if our campus is ten minutes away, I’ll drive you there.”

“How long can I crash at your place?”

“Is something going on?” You said, exchanging conversations while eating.

“I’ll let you know when we get to your place.” Judging by her expression, it was evident that she was holding back from saying something.

"Zuha, I want you to know I'm here for you," you reassured her. Even being just ten minutes away, or the online conversations not being as frequent as they once were, you were determined not to lose her again, regretting the past mistake of not being there for Kazuha. "Let's finish our meal, and then I'll take you home with me."

“Weren’t you suppose to send me home at the end of the day?” Kazuha playfully smirks, mischievously laughing with her hands covering her mouth. It was evident that you missed the sight of her smile, yet this time, it undeniably stirred your heart. 

“Let your friends blame me, they won’t know it’s you who wanted to stay with me.”

"Your friends are waiting for you too, aren't they?" Kazuha questions. Her presence made you divert your attention entirely away from your friends and focusing it solely on her.

“I guess our group of friends will lose one person for today. What do you say?”

“You’re thinking dirty, aren’t you? A woman coming over, I think it’s clear to say that our friends think we’re up to no good.”

“Sounds like you’re the one thinking dirty, Zuha. I never said we’re sleeping together,” you said playfully, though you did miss the skin-to-skin contact with Kazuha. You couldn’t get her body out of your mind after that night with Kazuha.

She laughs, “see, I never said we’re sleeping together.”

“Finish up the food, Zuha,” you said out of disappointment as she caught you. It wasn’t like Kazuha didn’t wanted to fuck, when it’s clear that bringing a woman over would lead to the obvious.

———

As you walked home together along the sidewalks, admiring the clear blue skies overhead, your hand brushed gently against hers. Kazuha felt her heart race with excitement as your hands unexpectedly intertwined. Throughout the way home, neither of you exchanged words until you arrived inside your apartment. Yet, the unmistakable feeling between you two hinted at the blossoming love being shared.

Kazuha's eyes widened in appreciation the moment you opened the door to your apartment. Her gaze was sweeping across the inviting interior of the apartment. "This is a lovely place," she says, her soft voice filled with genuine admiration as she takes in the cozy ambiance. 

“It’s not bad. But I think you should let your friends know you’re going to be with me. Don’t keep them waiting, Zuha.”

“You should do the same.”

“I will. But to bring up that topic from earlier that you wanted to tell me about. What did you want to say?”

From a quick glance at Kazuha, she took a deep breath, standing still with her phone clasped tightly in both hands. Kazuha hesitated, thinking you would brush her off in some way. Despite not trying, she took her chances. “I can barely live by myself. Can I live here with you? I think we both feel lonely sometimes.” 

You observe her in silence as she gazes downward at the wooden floor, prepared for the possibility of rejection from the only person she feels comfortable asking without sacrificing her pride. You have no intention of denying her request, especially when it benefits both of you mutually. There was never a fight between you two. Althought there were times of disagreement, its solved quietly with understandment.

“Why didn’t you tell me this stuff that you’re going through?” You said, feeling frustrated for not being there to support her through her struggles. “How long have you been keeping this from me? Don’t you know that I’m only a phone call away?” 

“I-I couldn’t tell you out of the blue. I didn’t want to bother you.” Kazuha murmurs and brushes her hair while looking away. “You’re the only person who I can talk to about this.” 

You're devastated, as the anger you directed inward for neglecting to check up on her over the past year has transformed into feelings of guilt. Even if Kazuha wasn’t your girlfriend, both of you were just a simple text or phone call away from each other, and yet, an entire year passed without a single conversation. You would blame the college assignments that made you forget about Kazuha, but deep down, you know it would sound like an excuse.

"I'll let you stay, but what can you do to earn it? We can split the rent seventy-thirty. I'll pay the seventy, Zuha." You take her hand, and she looks back shyly. "Was it tough? It's my fault, Zuha."

“I’m not letting you pay more than half. I want to split it even. And like…we did it the first time, shouldn’t it be easier to do it the second?”

“Zuha…,” you said, bewildered in her sudden words, “this didn’t have to go that far.”

Kazuha sits right beside you, close enough to where you’re face to face. She gazes up and down at you with a seductive smile. "Isn't this what friends are for? Am I still your friend?"

“Tell your friends that you’re stay with me,” you said, eagerly wanting to change the topic before both your clothes become off this instant.

“I just want us to catch up. No one knew what we did.”

“Sakura probably heard us, Zuha."

Kazuha slowly puts her hand on your shoulders and down closer to your lap. You were just inches away from Kazuha's face. If there was one mistake you might make, it would be the temptation to kiss her as she gets closer and closer, tempting you to your very limits. "She did. Okay. It was embarrassing when we had this talk."

“Are you still talking to her?”

“I still do. But I never told her about the situation I’m in.” Then the naughtiest of her hands grip and caress your inner thighs.

“Zuha…” Your heart skips a beat.

“I know,” Kazuha looks to the side to avoid eye contact. You gently place your hands on Kazuha’s cheek to turn her back to you and stare at her quietly. Intentionally, she gets closer, tilting her head, and eyes closing to give you a quick kiss. “I missed you. I really do.”

Your adrenaline starts to rush at how she’s seducing you for what’s obvious. Neither had you thought this encounter would be end up this way as you kiss Kazuha from her lips to her neck. The little, cute moans she made were nostalgic for the first time you slept with her. Kazuha’s warm breaths coat your skin, and the gentle touches you felt on your back from her hands were warm. Both of you were fighting for each other's lips. 

Despite the small romance, her hands got naughty and gently squeezes to your cock that’s under your clothes. Kazuha teases you, squeezing, stroking it in the most passionate ways that got you groaning by what she’s doing.

“Someone’s hard. Really hard,” Kazuha said, smirking and looking down at what’s waiting for her as she takes heavy breaths. Kazuha gulps and takes a quick glance outside the window, “it’s getting late, we have classes tomorrow. But let’s finish what we started.”

“Is this how we should make it up, Zuha?” You groaned, missing her soft hands on your cock.

Kazuha chuckles, the cute little distinct laughs she made only got you immersed in this feeling for her. "You need this. I need this. For old times sake."

You lifted her shirt off as it’s thrown out of the way for you to kiss her tits hidden beneath her bra. Kazuha lifts your shirt off, and the aggressive passion begins to bloom. “Zuha, let’s put our pride to the side.” 

“I want you so bad. Don't you know how much I miss you?" Kazuha says, heavily breathing like she waited for this moment, season after season. She gets off and on her knees to quickly pull your pants down, “how about I get a taste? We can do something on the bed tomorrow.” As you two look each other in the eye, she was full of romance, which you can see the sincerity in those beautiful eyes of hers as Kazuha played it off mischievously.

“The sun is going down, Zuha. Don’t just wait for an answer.”

“How messy do you want to see me?"

You lean closer to her and pull off her hair tie, “It’s hotter when your hair sticks to your mouth, Zuha.”

“So naughty of you,” she smirks and licks the tip of your cock with a smile after. “In my mouth or on my face?”

“In, Zuha. Let’s not make a mess.” It was an excuse when you wanted her to be sucking you off for the whole time. Talking was just the troubling part and you weren’t for the talks. “You’re teasing me, Zuha. Let's not waste any more time."

“What’s the fun without-” and she stopped questioning. It would be best if she started sucking you off instead of wasting more time.

“Zuha,” you groaned, heavily breathing in and out as she bobbed her head slowly. Once you look down at her, Kazuha was glaring back at you with a smile turning into a smirk. “Kazuha.” The wet gags she made while sucking you off were not so innocent at all. You’re enjoying this moment, the way her tongue swirls around and under the tip of your cock, the sensational waves of pleasure that you couldn’t help but grip onto her hair made you moan her name as she starts to deep throat you. "Zuha, just like that."

Even as the sun starts to set slowly, shadows cast into the living room with the windows clearly opened for anyone lucky enough to see Kazuha sucking you off. The beauty she holds on you, slick and silky hair, manicured nails, her angel-like voice, and a well intelligent woman—Kazuha sure did get your feelings involved this time around. She wasn’t someone you’ll call a friend anymore.

The way she sucked you off felt like your breath was being taken, downright dangerously when you’re trying to not cum. But at the same time, the thought of cumming inside Kazuha’s mouth is always a never-ending good feeling, and there’s no way she wouldn’t love your cock throbbing in her mouth for a warm treat she's getting.

Kazuha’s mouth was always sinister, way to seductive whenever the timing was right. If that wasn’t enough, Kazuha’s innocence is another thing that you love about her, but when her warm mouth wraps around your cock, your mind becomes endlessly wanting more.

“Kazuha,” you kept groaning. “Kazuha,” you grunted, teeth clenching. There was something this time that she found more attractive—you calling her name in the most seductive way. 

She pulls off and brushes her lip across with her thumb. Yet, Kazuha squeezes your cock, jerking it slowly while looking right in your eyes, “don’t cum yet," Kazuha smiles.

“You’re doing it so god damn good.”

“It’s that a compliment?” Kazuha laughs, and you still find Kazuha’s smile so attractive as she teases your tip with her thumb.

“Enough—” your airway cuts you off, unable to finish what you wanted to say as her lips press against your tip, “talking.”

Her tongue licks the bottom side of your cock up to the tip, and you stared at her smiling right back at you when she knew you’re enjoying it to the fullest. Then, Kazuha spits on your cock, with the messy strands of saliva dripping down to your balls. It wasn’t new where she would go next—down to suck on your balls. Her hands become covered in her own saliva and your pre-cum as she sucks on your balls with your cock in her soft-warm hands.

“I know you’re cumming any minute now,” Kazuha murmurs.

“In your mouth, Zuha,” you said quickly.

She didn’t care if the blowjob wasn’t thirty minutes, but seeing you happy was all she ever wanted in the first place. Neither could Kazuha wait any longer and pushes herself deeper onto your cock. That sinister mouth of hers made you love her even more when you felt the back of her throat.

You held onto her nape, groaning all the pleasures as Kazuha bobbed her head up and down while your cock starts to pulsate, and at last, cum in her mouth. Kazuha stops bobbing and glares at you cumming and panting. “Kazuha,” you groan her name.

You felt her swallowing every load, as much as she can get out of you for tonight. Your hands were still pinning Kazuha in, and you didn’t plan on freeing her, not just yet, until you’re more than satisfied. Kazuha slowly traces your thighs, and the glare she gave you was such an act of seduction.

Kazuha pulls off your cock once you let her, strays of her hair and the evidence of your cum were all over her mouth to her lips. She licks her lips after cleaning her own mess. “So, guess we should just fuck after coming home tomorrow?”

You didn’t mind skipping class tomorrow, but then you would have to worry about Kazuha if she wasn’t willing to be in the same boat. “I’ll pick you up after classes tomorrow?”

“Fair enough,” she laughs, “how should we sleep? Together?”

“Why are you asking that? This isnt our first. My bed is for two."

She kisses your cock, “well, it sounds like some kind of confession.”

And it was when you couldn’t muster up the courage with the weight of pride on your back. “Zuha, tell your friends that you’re with me.” You grab your phone to text your friends after putting your pants on. “Let’s go to bed. Get a good night sleep.”

Kazuha follows right behind you like nothing happened minutes ago, when you saw the different side of her. Not the nerdy, beautiful, and quiet girl, but the horny Kazuha.

“Hey,” she clears her throat, “got a toothbrush for me? Let's make a trip to my place early tommorrow and get some of my belongings."

“I have an extra one in the cabinet,” you pointed at the bathroom that was opened. “Need to shower too? I have extra towels, although you like morning showers, Zuha.”

She wouldn't anticipate you knowing her preferences, and when she knows that you know the smallest details about her, Kazuha blushes and shyly looks down with a smirk. "Just admit you missed me or something," she murmurs.

“I missed you, Kazuha,” you said. Kazuha wasn’t expecting that, but she thought that you would tease her instead. There wasn’t a need to say her name that way, when you call her by her nickname more often.

“I-I’ll be back and we can take turns using the bathroom.”

“Brush our teeth together. Think we obviously know the showers won’t be alone anymore. The bed is less lonely when you’re here now, Zuha.” Again, there wasn’t no need to tease Kazuha, but it was a sly confession.

“The dining table wouldn’t feel so lonely, either one of us will come home greeted. Maybe together also. We’ll have to think about each other when we’re out grocery shopping,” Kazuha added to your teasing.

“Gosh, let’s just go wash up for bed, Zuha. You're lame," you playfully said.

——

The following morning, Kazuha woke you up to start the day. With small, little conversations, you took her to a nearby store for an early breakfast and looked out of the glass window into the sunny morning. Afterwards, you dropped her off at class following a brief stop at her apartment. Neither of you were officially in a relationship, at least not yet, but before she exited the car, she requested a kiss.

Throughout your classes, thoughts of Kazuha consumed your mind and made it difficult to concentrate. Your thoughts wandered to the things you wanted to do with her after so long. Time seemed to drag on, and you anxiously waited when you could finally leave and pick her up from the library, where she waited with her headphones on as she works on her project. 

After finishing your class for the day, you eargerly walked out to pick her up and called her the moment you arrived. “Zuha, I’m outside.”

"Okay. Be there in a second," Kazuha says before swiftly gathering her belongings and exiting the library. In her hands, she holds a book, and her backpack is filled to the brim with assignments. Dressed in denim jeans and a black shirt she changed into, she wore glasses that adds to her beauty, giving her a nerdy yet attractive look. It's remarkable how her glasses can make her stand out in a crowd. It's these subtle details that make you see her in a new light. Regardless of whether she intended to look beautiful, you couldn't help but be mesmerized by the woman who slept with you twice. 

"Damn," you silently compliment her as she approaches your car. In that moment, you find yourself dismissing the idea of her as just a friend. There's something more, a feeling that goes beyond mere friendship. You want to keep her.

"It's sunny outside, isn't it?" Kazuha remarks, opening the door and taking a seat with her backpack on her lap.

"It is.” Your gaze fixed on Kazuha, captivated despite seeing her in the exact same outfit this morning. Yet, it was the addition of her glasses that caused your heart to skip a beat. It's unexpected, catching you off guard.

“Aren’t you going to drive?” Kazuha says, tilting her head to playfully tease you.

“Take off those glasses. I can’t concentrate,” you said, laughing it off.

“Your cheeks are glowing. Am I pretty? It’s not like you’ve never seen me wearing glasses.” The difference between her current innocent demeanor and whenever Kazuha wanted to fuck was polar opposite. You wouldn’t deny, you love seeing the two sides of Kazuha. “Better hurry, we have things to do at home.”

With a gulp, you shifted the car into drive. In that moment, Kazuha realized that this friendship is blossoming into something more. Despite both of you silently acknowledging the subtle sparks of romance, neither was willing to openly admit it.

As you both step inside your apartment, she shuts the door and locks it quickly. Kazuha waited for this just like you did for the whole day. She urgently drops her backpack and book onto the floor as you wasted no time in pinned her right against the door and lock eyes with each other.

“I couldn’t stop thinking about you, Zuha.” Your hands were rather naughty as you groped her ass and made Kazuha chuckle. 

“I could say the same,” she says quietly, and puts her hand on your shoulders. The look she gave you was silent, with the clock ticking loudly within the apartment. Neither did you want to look away from her beauty. 

“Bed. Now, Zuha.” You lift her off the ground effortlessly and around her thighs to carry Kazuha. She chuckles softly and leans in for a romantic kiss as you make your way to the bed.

“I don’t think it’s right if we do this everyday,” Kazuha murmurs. “But it’s so right that no one knows about us.”

“Your tone is saying different, Zuha. Doesn’t matter if it’s ten minutes a day." You gently nudge the door with your foot before guiding her to the bed, where you both gently fall onto. "At least this way, we can both find some relief from the stress."

She starts striping off her shirt and pants, and you followed after, dropping it onto the floor with the door opened wide. Kazuha beckons you to come with her fingers and spreads her legs. “Come take off my bra and panties.”

You didn’t hesitate to get on top of her and kisses Kazuha on her abs and up to her armpits for a taste. You unhook her bra while kissing and licking her armpits, then tossed her bra onto the floor. Knowing that she’s also ticklish, Kazuha laughs and moan by your tongue getting a taste of her armpits. “You smell and taste so fucking good,” you mumbled.

“All for you,” Kazuha breathes heavily. Despite her panties still on, you didn’t plan to go down and pull them off, not just yet, when you wanted to get romantic with Kazuha. Your hands slowly reach up her arms, and pin them against the headrest of the bed. She laughs and smiles, “this brings back memories.”

“And you’re not gonna be laughing once I’m deep in you, Zuha.”

“You’re getting me so wet. Do I have to beg for it now?” She looks at you with a smirk.

You look at her body, down to her crotch, and see a small damp area that you made Kazuha have. “Can’t wait any longer?”

“Please,” Kazuha pleads as she looks at your hard cock. You could hear the small little whines she made as you press your lips all over her neck and chest.

Putting your cock inside her wasn’t what you wanted to do just yet, not until you get a quick taste of her pussy. You slowly get down towards her crotch and went in for a taste to be reminded of the succulent taste of Kazuha as her thighs are on your shoulders. She moans and whimpers to the rhythm of your tongue all over her pussy.

“Fuck,” she groans and arches her back. “Don’t make me wait any longer.”

And you knew she was getting impatient. Kazuha waited the whole day, and potentially wanting this more than you did. “So needy, Zuha,” you said and put your cock in slowly.

She moans with her mouth opened in a oval shape. The glare she give you were romantic, and the deeper you slowly went in, her eyes close with her teeth clenching. Kazuha’s pussy stretches the deeper you went, although you weren’t all the way in, she was taking every inch that you give her.

“You’re so tight, Zuha,” you moaned, heavily breathing as you feel how warm it was inside. The feeling of her pussy was like a genuine hug—a warm one that you only want from her. And by how warm it was inside, nothing would ever give you this feeling from another woman.

You love her body. Kazuha doesn’t have a killer body that men fantasize for, but you became fond of her tits. They’re on the smaller side, and you loved them. Her ass was something that you love the most—it’s soft and perfectly round, so slap-able enough to where you’ll kiss her ass for hours after. The beauty of her is when you’re fucking her from behind. The ripples and bounce it makes can only grow more hunger out of you.

“Go deeper,” Kazuha begs as she squeezes your shoulders. So you pushed in deeper until you heard an erotic grunt from her as she places her hand on your stomach to make you stop going further.

Love is pain, but you would argue that the pain was when you’re balls deep inside this woman, questionably, maybe your girlfriend that you didn’t want to admit. You’re deep inside her at the start where she needed to get used to your cock. This wasn’t her first time having you in bed, but it’s been way too long for Kazuha to remember this feeling of your hard cock stretching her pussy.

There’s not a thought about looking away from her eyes, she wanted this, she needed this, she knew that you’re the only man she’ll ever settle down for. This wasn’t a dice roll to see how long a new relationship would last with you, when you were for her everytime she needed someone to talk. Not much talking is happening as of right now though.

“Zuha,” you groaned, thrusting in and out of her walls hugging your cock so tightly. There’s a clear indication of romance by how her hands were all over your shoulders and to your back, and she’s not letting you go.

Was this feeling the same as the first time you slept with her? Definitely.

But this feeling was different when she held onto you so tightly, yet the softness of her not wanting you to pull away from her body as your thighs are locked in by her. Kazuha’s begging you desperately, and the mistake of holding back a simple text message made her blame herself. This was her way of making it up and wanting you to cum inside her.

“You’re so fucking big,” she groans in your ear and kisses your neck while your already balls deep inside Kazuha without the thoughts of being so-called ‘friends.’

You love it—the tightness of her pussy, and it’s not a fluke when she’s just a beauty, but someone you genuinely know with feelings this time around. Even if your cock throbs every few seconds, you would stop deep in her just to fuck her longer.

Kazuha’s arms are around you, they weren’t full of masculinity, but the feminine kind that you can dominate her in the most aggressive ways. It’s not like she would lead anyways when she loves getting a good pounding from you to clear her mind. As your breath gets heavier, she didn’t want you to do all the work, so Kazuha pushes your shoulders gently and you already knew she wanted to ride you. No words, only her eyes made it clear.

She gets on top as you caress her abs, and Kazuha slowly puts your cock in her again, moaning enough for you to only hear and no one else. You grab her arms and pull Kazuha down closer to make her chest to glue on to yours. She starts riding you with passion, and your hands slowly move closer to her ass.

With a quick and sudden spank, she laughs at you seductively with her lips all over yours, and she knew her ass was one of your favorite things to get a hold on.

“So naughty of you, gosh,” Kazuha says, kissing your lips right after.

“So round and juicy, Zuha. Don’t you miss how I touch you?”

“I don’t have to miss it anymore,” she moans.

Either of you still fail to hold a conversation while fucking, and this overly too passionate and romantic when she wasn’t your girlfriend. At least not yet. Your pride makes you hesitate.

Kazuha gets up with her hands leaning on your chest and grinds on your cock faster. Her breaths become heavy, and dangerously, the glares she gives you were lustful to the point of making your heart skipped a beat. She’s a beauty in every position.

You grunted, and she smiles seeing you struggle to not cum. “Zuha, slow down,” you said with a heavy breath and gently take this opportunity to choke her. Just even choking her, she smiles in the most seductive ways. Kazuha never told you that she loves being choked, but it’s not new when you bring a smile to her face when being choked.

She holds onto your arm with both hands that’s choking her neck. “Fuck, it feels so good inside me, Babe.”

Her moans gotten louder, your cock was deep inside Kazuha as she closes her eyes. And by the time you even realize, Kazuha cums. Her legs shake and she tumbles back down with her hair brushing against your shoulders all while you’re still choking her.

And you didn’t catch her slipping the word, ‘babe’ at all. Kazuha couldn’t help it. Her feelings are drawn towards you, and neither did she catch the word she said.

She’s in your embrace before she even knew it after you put your arm around her back. Her moans got more erotic, and you couldn’t help it but pound her even harder. The sounds of her ass bouncing on your thighs were pure ecstasy. You wanted more, you wanted the neighbors to hear this beautiful woman sing the songs of erotica.

“Harder,” she struggles to even speak with your cock penetrating her walls. “Harder, Baby.”

“Bend over. Give me what I love seeing.”

She gets off your cock after your arms were off her, and Kazuha quickly got on all fours as you get behind her. You love how this woman can turn from a nerdy one, to the most horniest yet. She never doubts you doing the naughtiest things to her, and she’s all in for it. All in for you.

You didn’t waste time to put your cock back in. Her walls were well lubricated, ass so round that you wanted to see it bounce in circular motions as you got her on all fours. The best part was that you also get to pull her hair, but the arch she’s doing—the back that you love so much, you could cum in her in this position forever.

Kazuha keeps moaning and moaning, “fuck me, harder!” She screams with her hair being pulled.

With her head bobbing, and ass bouncing to how hard you were pounding her, Kazuha closes her eyes with all the moans filling the room. Only she can make you feel this way, only you can make it right by fucking her in the most passionate yet hard ways that she loves. Her walls were hugging your cock at this point, the feelings of her tight pussy only made you grew hungry as you stare down at her body.

You give her ass a gentle spank, then a harder one, and the obvious and final, a harder one that made her scream erotically with a smile on her face that you couldn’t see.

“Zuha,” you moaned with a heavier breath. You’re tired, but there’s no way when you’re fueled by this woman to keep going. Her body’s addictive, beautifully in all different positions that neither of you can call each other friends after fucking.

You’re in a trance because of this woman. Thoughts run endlessly as you heard her moans muffle, and before you knew it, Kazuha’s moaning her heart out. Kazuha didn’t stop you, she wanted more, she wanted to be pounded by the man she kept yearning for.

So you lift her back up on her knees, back against your chest, the soft gentle chokes you give her neck, and your other hands groping her tits. Kazuha starts riding you, endlessly without wanting this to end all while feeling the warm embrace you give her.

“Make me cum, Zuha. Make me cum. I’ll give it to you.”

From seeing the wicked smile on her face as you’re choking her, she wanted this simple reminder, the reminiscence of the warm cum you gave her a year ago.

“Cum, Baby,” she says, riding and grinding. It was only then, you heard the way she called you for the first time.

“Make me, Baby,” you say back, spicing things up with her.

“Give it to me,” she says, squealing loudly by how hard you’re choking the sides of her neck with your fingers.

Your cock’s throbbing the harder she rides and pounds herself on your cock. The sounds of sex, Kazuha in your arms, the pleasure she’s giving you, and the tightness her pussy has on your cock gets the best of you.

You cum.

Like the time has stopped as she pauses to feel your cock throbbing and giving her your cum that left a memory inside her. “Zuha,” your breath becomes heavy. Grunting as you’re still cumming deep in her.

And the greed she has of you—your balls deep, cumming and giving Kazuha what she wanted. It’s not you who’s deep in her, every ounce of cum dumping deep inside her, but Kazuha. Her ass was glued to your hips, standing on her own two knees as you hugged Kazuha in your arms tightly.

“Mhmm,” she moans.

You’re grunting—hard, hard enough to strain your throat by how much your cock was still throbbing until the last bit of cum you have left for her. “Kazuha,” you whispered and nibbled her ear with a smile. “Kazuha”

She stood still to embrace this memory that she never expected. By being in your arms, your own house, and the love that blossomed quickly within a day or two, it’s a fairytale that turned into reality.

Neither did both of you spoke for seconds, or maybe minutes by how much passion still lingered in the small bedroom with clothes all over the floor. You kept her head titled back so you can get your lips all over her neck, and all she did was embrace your cock still inside.

Her moans became softer, seductively keeping you turned on more to make a mess on her neck. “Do you miss me this much?” She chuckles and hold your arm that’s on her neck.

“Maybe more than you ever thought, Zuha,” you murmur, still kissing her neck and up to her face.

“I don’t think this can be your monthly rent. I want to help you. Getting me naked is just a plus.”

“What exactly are you saying, Zuha,” your lips trace up to her lips for a romantic kiss.

“I’m saying-mhm—” Playfully, you cut her off to speak by shutting her lips closed with yours.

You decided to let her speak, “can’t hear you, Zuha.” You’re curious after all the time spent fucking.

“Isn’t it obvious?” Neither could she confess straightforwardly. The way she saw the love in your eyes were no lies.

“I want to take you out to a restaurant tomorrow. A new one,” you said and pulled your cock out of her. “Don’t go to class tomorrow. Spend the day with me at least.”

“It’s like you’re asking me out,” she laughs. “What’s the point of us acting like we’re getting to know each other? Let’s just skip all that.” She reaches for her clothes to put on.

Neither of you can confess, but it didn’t matter when it’s clear enough. There’s no clouds, no fog, and only the road that both of you see into the future together. She’s not just your friend, you’re not just her friend, but a couple—girlfriend and boyfriend.

“Lay in bed. Let’s rest up for a bit, Zuha,” you say while putting on your clothes with a smirk.

She looks at you mischievously, “missing a day of class won’t hurt. Spending time in bed right now won’t either, right? I could be working on projects.”

"Give your attention to me, Zuha."

"Anyways, let’s split the rent half-half. It's what's right," she places her hand on your chest as you both lay down.

You didn’t give her answer but press your lips against hers. It remains quiet. If she wanted to split the rent half and half, you wouldn’t mind. Her body’s yours to cum inside of.

“So what’s your answer,” Kazuha whispers after you let go of her lips.

“We can talk about it after we move your stuff over here, Zuha.”

[ellecdc]

how do you think the boys would react to reader telling them that she’s like NEEDY needy (iykyk)

would they do it, or just like get shy and walk off? or? 👀👀👀👀👀👀

mature content ahead: view discretion is advised

So, are they in a relationship yet? I'm going to go with they're in a relationship for this but if you meant they weren't you can feel free to re-ask

James:

chokes on his spit and nearly trips as he turns to look at you in shock (not unpleasant shock, mind you)

"You're what?"

He'd coo in sympathy after you had to embarrassingly repeat yourself in a whisper, rubbing your thighs together desperate for friction

"awe sweets. Okay, come on." and he's leading you by the hand - he's almost more eager than you are as he rushes down the hall

ends up on his knees with his face under your skirt in the closest bathroom - you'd be taken care of for sure 😩

Sirius:

biggest shit eating grin you've ever seen in your life and you almost regret saying anything

I think he'd tease you a little bit: "Awe, poor dolly's feeling needy, hm?" He'd coo in faux sympathy, the bastard

He'd make you tell him exactly what you're looking for. "What do you want, dolly?" 'touch me' "Like this?" and all he'd do is push your hair behind your ear

two can play at that game: 'Fine, I'll go ask someone else.'

He'd let out a horrified squawk and throw you over his shoulder. "Now now, let's not get hasty. I don't want anyone thinking I don't take care of my girl"

bent you over in the nearest broom closet and you both leave flushed and satisfied

Remus:

would smirk at you but continues reading through the first draft of his essay "really dove? now?"

he'd chuckle listening to you pout and get all breathy as you try to sit still "We've got homework, baby girl."

You'd get petulant and lean back in your seat with a huff, crossing your arms.

without even looking, he'd grab the leg of your chair and pull it over towards him - he'd keep his head low and continue making adjustments on his paper as he slips his free hand under your skirt and moves your panties aside.

"Awe, poor dovey - you really were needy weren't you" he'd lightly tease, murmuring softly so only you could hear.

your breath would hitch as he slipped inside of you, earning you a gentle shush as he threatens to stop moving his fingers.

"I'll take care of you but you have to be quiet; only I get to know how pretty you sound, yeah?"

gets you off with just his fingers in the library - makes up for it again later once he's done his essay

Regulus:

he's mean, I'm sorry

he'd make you wait all day

he'd go to class, to every meal, to quidditch practice barely sparing you a glance leaving you all the more desperate

it was painful for him too, mind you. Thinking about you being needy made him needy, and he spent all day dreaming of taking you over and over and over again

but he's a bit of a sadomasochist lol

he'd finally be all wound up after quidditch practice and would pull you roughly into his room and, like he'd been imagining all day, take you over and over and over again

to the point of over stimulation

"Come on amour, you can give me one more, yeah? Wasn't this what you wanted? Weren't you so needy?"

he got three more for his dirty talk alone

Barty:

no questions asked

'Barty?' "Yes Treasure?" 'I...I want, erm....I mean I...I feel kind of needy'

slams book shut and throws it over his shoulder where it lands in the fountain with a splash

"Where are you two going?" his friends ask bemusedly

"I'm going to treat my girl like a slut the way she deserves, Black; if you're not going to help, mind your fucking business"

you spend the rest of the day in his bed, fucking, smoking, eating, fucking, smoking, fucking, reading, fucking again

you'd hardly ever need to worry about feeling needy with him - whenever, wherever, however - consider it done.

[chosok-amo]

Yuta and a 𝓕𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓴𝔂 reader who has a habit of making nsfw jokes at any given time..?

SUPER FREAKY GIRL: YUTA OKKOTSU

yuta okkotsu loves having you as his girlfriend, but there is nothing that would prepare yuta from this side of you— making everything sensual; you just love having your shy boyfriend flustered and blushing, just overall giving him a hard time. . . and a boner.

w/c: 5.7k

warning : lots and lots of suggestive conversation, fluff.

𝜗𝜚 . . . i'm having too much fun writing this one because yuuta is one of my favorites jjk's character.

yuuta okkotsu is head over heels for you. as your boyfriend, he treasures the moments you share and finds immense joy in every little aspect of your relationship. he loves the way you look at him, how you laugh at his jokes, and the tenderness of your touch. however, there's a unique side to your dynamic that always keeps him on his toes and completely off guard.

you have an incredible talent for dropping cheeky, flirtatious comments at the most unexpected moments. whether you're out with friends, in a casual setting, or sharing a quiet evening alone, you never miss an opportunity to tease him with your playful remarks. it doesn't matter if you're surrounded by people or if it's just the two of you—your provocative comments come effortlessly, catching him by surprise every single time.

yuuta finds himself blushing and stumbling over his words, his usually composed demeanor melting away under your mischievous influence. the way you playfully provoke him, turning his calm and collected nature into a flustered mess, is something he can't quite get used to, even though he adores it. your comments add a layer of excitement and unpredictability to your relationship, making every interaction with you both exhilarating and endearing. It’s a playful dance that keeps your connection vibrant and full of sparks, and yuuta wouldn’t have it any other way.

just like that moment, you and yuuta were deep into your combat training at the usual training ground, along with your friends. as you both took a brief pause to catch your breath, you decided to lighten the mood with a flirty comment.

with a playful smirk, you said, “you know, yuuta, if you keep dodging my attacks like that, i might just have to find another way to catch your attention. should i flash you some tits?”

yuuta, slightly flustered and caught off guard, tried to maintain his composure but ended up stumbling over his own feet, falling to the ground with a surprised laugh. his cheeks flushed a soft pink as he looked up at you, his usual calm demeanor giving way to a charmingly embarrassed smile.

yuuta's reaction was absolutely adorable, and you couldn't help but feel a hint of satisfaction that you'd managed to break through his otherwise calm demeanor. he chuckled softly as he attempted to pick himself up from the ground, still wearing that endearing blush on his face.

“that's— ah. . .”

his voice was shaky, a mixture of surprise and embarrassment. he cleared his throat, trying to regain his composure, but it was clear that your words had made his heart skip a beat or two.

“i-i wouldn't... mind— uh. . .”

and don't forget the other day when you and yuuta were hanging out with friends in inumaki’s room, the group chatting and laughing together. yuuta was seated on the floor beside you, comfortably leaning against the wall as he engaged in conversation with his friends. you, sitting next to him, were enjoying the relaxed atmosphere and the easy camaraderie.

as the conversation flowed around you, you decided to add a bit of playful mischief to the mix. without drawing attention, you let your hand slide down and gently squeeze yuuta's thigh. his eyes widened slightly, and he momentarily faltered in his conversation, his cheeks turning a soft shade of pink.

yuuta tried to maintain his composure, but the warmth of your touch and the unexpected squeeze made him shift uncomfortably. his friends, too engrossed in their discussions, didn’t notice the subtle exchange. you couldn't help but smile at his reaction, enjoying the way your simple gesture made him blush and fidget while trying to keep up with the conversation.

when your friends don't notice, you lean closer, “have you been working out with gojo, babe?” you smile at him, your sweet, sweet, innocent smile. “it feels like your thighs have gotten more muscle than before,” you give his thigh another squeeze. “can i make a mess on your thigh?” you whisper in his ear, slightly giving it a kiss.

you and your dirty jokes. . .

you were spending a cozy evening in yuuta okkotsu’s dorm room. the room was softly lit, creating a warm and intimate atmosphere. you were lying on your stomach on his bed, deeply focused on your lego puzzle as you assembled the pieces with meticulous care. meanwhile, yuuta sat on the sofa near the bed, engrossed in a book, his gentle presence adding to the comfort of the night.

every now and then, you glanced over at yuuta, admiring the way he seemed completely absorbed in his reading, his eyes scanning the pages with a look of serene concentration. the quiet of the room was punctuated only by the soft rustle of pages and the occasional click of lego pieces snapping into place.

you couldn’t resist taking advantage of the peaceful moment to tease him a little. with a playful smirk, you glanced up and called out, “babe, do you have a driver's license?” you ask him. yuuta looked up from his book, a hint of surprise on his face at the unexpected question. he blinked a few times, considering the question before replying.

“a... driver's license? yeah, i do. i got it a year ago. why do you ask?” his expression was equal parts confusion and curiosity, and he marked his page before fully turning his attention towards you. the lamplight cast a soft glow over his features, making his dark eyes seem even more intense as he looked at you, waiting for your response.

you smile, looking over your shoulder to look at your boyfriend, “do you think i need a driver's license, too, to ride you?” yuuta's face instantly turns a deep shade of scarlet, and he splutters wordlessly, clearly caught off guard by your suggestive comment. his heart rate quickens, and it's clear that your words have had quite the effect on him.

he swallows hard, attempting to regain his composure as he struggles to find a suitable response to your question. after a moment, he manages to blurt out a response, his voice shaky and his eyes wide with a mixture of embarrassment and arousal.

“y-you— uh, i mean, n-no, you don't. . .”

his cheeks were flushed, and he shifted nervously on the sofa, his heart still racing from your playful comment. he couldn't help but feel flustered by your boldness, but at the same time, he found your confidence and assertiveness incredibly attractive. clearing his throat, he tried to respond in a more composed manner, attempting to hide the effect your words had on him.

“no, baby... y-you don't need a d-driver's license to...” he stumbled over his words, unable to finish the sentence as his mind wandered to the possible implications. yuuta's brain is short-circuited, his thoughts overwhelmed by the sudden fantasy that had filled his mind. he flushed an even deeper shade of red, his eyes widening in surprise as his imagination ran wild for a moment. he clenched his jaw, trying to compose himself, but he couldn't shake off the effect your words had on him.

he swallowed hard, his fingers gripping the edge of the sofa as he tried to collect his thoughts. “baby, that's... um... t-that's not fair...” he groaned, almost whining.

you chuckled, amused by how easily your boyfriend became a blushing mess. you push yourself away from the comfort of his bed to walk over him. instinctively, yuuta opens his arms, gladly and warmly welcoming you to his lap.

“what's not fair? i'm just asking you a question,” you look down at him. yuuta's arms automatically wrap around you as you settle in his lap, pulling you closer to him. the warmth of his embrace provides a sense of comfort and intimacy, and he gazes up at you with a mix of slight embarrassment and affection.

“you know what's not fair,” he mutters, his voice still faintly hoarse from the earlier flustered response. he lets out a soft chuckle, his cheeks still tinged with a hint of pink. his eyes fix on yours, a slight pout on his lips as he pretends to be indignant.

“you're playing with my heart,” yuuta leaned back into the sofa, pulling you even closer against his chest as he continued to pout slightly. despite his feigned indignation, there was a hint of playfulness in his eyes, a glimmer of enjoyment in the way he reacted to your teasing.

his arms wrapped around your waist, his touch firm and warm. he could feel your body pressed against him, and the closeness only heightened the intimacy between you. his heart raced in his chest, the sound of it like a gentle thrum against your skin.

“you're being mean,” he accused, his voice soft and somewhat teasing. yuuta's grip on your waist tightened slightly, the playful pout still on his lips. he looked up at you with the cutest puppy dog eyes, his face the picture of exaggerated disappointment, but there was a hint of mischief behind his gaze.

he let out a soft sigh, his voice a playful grumble as he continued his act of indignation. “you're toying with my emotions... it's not fair. i can't handle it when you say things like that.”

yuuta's eyes never left yours, holding your gaze with a mixture of playful affection and mock frustration. he maintained his pout, his lips pressed together in a fake frown as he continued to grumble about your behavior.

he shifted slightly underneath you, causing your hips to press against his crotch, eliciting a sharp inhale from him as he seemed to be struggling to keep up with the charade. his hands moved to grip your hips, his fingers pressing gently into your skin as if to silently urge you to stop teasing him. “i'm sorry baby, didn't mean to,” you murmur, voice so low yuuta is afraid it reaches his crotch, especially with that little smile of yours. but knowing your nature, he knows you didn't feel sorry at all, not even a wee.

yuuta swallows hard, your sultry voice sending a shiver down his spine and straight to his core. despite your mock apology, he can tell from the look in your eyes that you're not even remotely sorry at all. he takes a deep breath, trying to keep his composure as your words and your body pressed against him have an undeniable effect on him. but he plays along, feigning a pout as he speaks in a slightly breathless voice.

“you're not sorry. you're a tease.”

yuuta's words were barely a murmur as he struggled to rein in the desires growing within him. he shifted slightly, his grip on your hips becoming more firm. his body tensed beneath you, his heart hammering in his chest as he tried to maintain his composure. yet, despite his attempts to keep his cool, he couldn't help but find your teasing behavior incredibly tantalizing. the way you made his body respond so intensely to your every word and touch was both maddening and irresistible.

“no, i mean it, i'm really sorry,” you again, murmur softly. your hands are moving around, caressing yuuta's bare chest. now he kind of regrets wearing nothing but a black boxer when you are around.

yuuta's breath hitches as your fingers caress his bare chest, the sensation sending a rush of heat through his body. he bites his lip, trying to maintain his composure as your touch ignites a fire within him. he knows he's fighting a losing battle, but he still tries to keep up his act of feigned disappointment.

“you— ah. . . you really don't seem like you're sorry,” he replies as softly as he can, his voice sounding a little more huskier than usual. you laugh a little before shaking your head, “no, not at all.” slowly you move your hips— your palm puts pressure on his chest.

yuuta's eyes widen slightly as you move your hips, your touch causing a sharp intake of breath to escape from his lips. the pressure of your palm on his chest combined with your seductive movements makes his heart race even faster, his chest rising and falling more rapidly as his restraint begins to falter.

“you... tease,” he whispers under his breath, his voice laced with a mix of frustration and undeniable desire. his hands grip your hips a bit tighter as he struggles to keep control of his own body's reactions. yuuta's body trembles involuntarily as you move against him, the friction between your bodies causing him to bite back a moan.

his eyes are fixed on yours, his expression now a mix of pleading and arousal. he wants you, desperately, but he knows you're enjoying this little game of tease and denial. he swallows hard, his voice strained as he speaks. “you, you're driving me crazy teasing me like this.”

suddenly, you stop moving, and he looks at you confused, eyebrows knitting together the moment his body is covered with cold nothing.

“i'm hungry,” you said. getting up from his lap and walking over to your phone. yuuta was too stunned to speak, he looked at you with eyes wide open, having his brain working twice as hard to process what the fuck is just happened— you standing near his bed with nothing but his navy blue shirt.

yuuta was left speechless, his body cold and abandoned as you abruptly got up from his lap. he sat frozen, watching you as you stood near the bed. his mind was a whirlwind of conflicting emotions; frustration, confusion, and undeniable arousal. he felt vulnerable and exposed, his body still tingling from your touch, yet now left with nothing to relieve the tension.

“hungry?? seriously?”

yuuta’s voice was a bit strained, a mix of annoyance and disbelief. here he was, sitting there half-naked and flustered because of your actions, and all you could say was that you were hungry.

he ran a hand through his hair, trying to gather his thoughts and regain his composure, but it was difficult to do so while feeling so exposed and wanting nothing more than to have you back on his lap.

“you… you can’t just leave me like this and then say you’re hungry…” he wanted to protest, to pull you back to where you belong and demand that you finish what you started. but he also knew you well enough to know that your teasing could continue for much longer if he didn't tread carefully. you turn your head, masking a confused look, purposely acting oblivious to make your boyfriend frustrated; it works. “like what?” you ask, “i can't eat now?” you added.

yuuta's frustration grew as you played oblivious, pretending to be completely unaware of the effect you had on him. his jaw clenched, and he let out a small, frustrated noise as he tried to find the right words to respond. he knew you were enjoying this, reveling in his growing frustration.

“no... you can eat later— i…”

he swallowed hard, his mind filled with images of you on top of him, your hands running all over his body. but he quickly shook his head, trying to snap out of his fantasies and focus on the current moment. you groan a little, pretend to be a little annoyed, “but baby, i'm hungry. . .” you look at him while pouting. you again, walk over and stand before him— making him eye-level with your bare thigh. your eyes focusing on your screen, scrolling through a bunch of restaurants and ready to order some food.

yuuta's breath catches in his throat as you step close to him again, his eyes fixated on your bare thigh right in front of him. his hands clench at his sides as he struggles to keep himself from reaching out and pulling you onto his lap.

he takes a deep breath, trying to gather his thoughts and find some semblance of control, but the sight of you in that position makes it increasingly difficult. he can feel the tension and desire rising within him, and he knows you're just stoking the flames even higher.

“babe. . . we can order later.”

yuuta's voice is low and strained as he speaks. his gaze is fixed on your legs, the temptation to reach out and run his hands up your thighs almost unbearable. his heart is racing, and he's struggling to keep his thoughts from spiraling out of control.

leaning forward slightly, he looks up at you, his eyes pleading and filled with a mixture of lust and frustration, “can't we... can't we do something else first, please...?”

yuuta's gentle and desperate comment seemed to fall on deaf ears as you continued to focus intently on your phone, scrolling through various food options. absorbed in your thoughts, you muttered aloud about your cravings.

“hmm, what should we have for dinner tonight?” you pondered, your eyes glued to the screen. “i’m really craving some chicken. it sounds so good right now. what about you, babe? any particular food you’re in the mood for?” you didn’t even bother to look up, lost in your own world of food choices. yuuta’s dark blue eyes followed you with a frustrated face.

yuuta groaned internally as you continued to obliviously scroll through your phone and discuss dinner options. he knew you were teasing him, prolonging his suffering by pretending not to notice his growing desperation. his eyes darkened as he watched you, his patience wearing thin with each passing moment of this maddening game.

he bit his lip, trying to rein in his frustration and maintain his composure, but it was a losing battle. he wanted you, wanted you badly, and you seemed determined to keep him in this state of agonizing limbo.

“babe, please. . . i don't care about dinner right now,” his voice was strained, a mixture of frustration and desire as he pleaded with you to stop this maddening game. his hands gripped the edge of the sofa, knuckles turning white as he fought the urge to snatch your phone away and show you exactly what he wanted.

“i just want you, i need you... please. can we do something else first?” he couldn’t hide the pleading tone in his voice, the words coming out almost like a desperate whimper. yuuta's heart pounded in his chest as he waited for your response, his eyes fixed on you, silently begging you to put down the phone and give him the attention he so desperately craved.

he could feel the tension in the air, the palpable sexual energy between you both, and he knew that you were fully aware of the effect you had on him. but you continued to act nonchalant, driving him to the edge of his patience. he swallowed hard, his voice barely above a whisper as he spoke again.

“babe... please...”

“later baby,” you mumble while your eyes are still on your phone, you touching his cheek for a second before walking away to sit on his bed. yuuta's heart sank as you dismissed him, your careless words and brief touch doing nothing to quell the fire burning within him.

he watched in disappointment as you walked away and sat on the bed, a small part of him hoping that you were just trying to build up the tension, but the logical part of his brain knew that you were actually serious about waiting.

he let out a frustrated sigh, his body still aching with desire as he tried to accept that he would have to wait a while longer for the release he craved.

“later? great...”

yuuta leaned back on the sofa, feeling defeated and frustrated by your lack of attention. he took a deep breath, trying to compose himself and push aside the growing disappointment and lust coursing through his body. it was difficult, knowing that the object of his desire was right there, casually scrolling through the phone while he stewed in his own frustration.

he fidgeted on the sofa, shifting his weight and trying to find a comfortable position while he waited for you to finish your phone business so that you could finally give him the attention he craved so badly. yuuta's mind is raced, filled with a mix of emotions and thoughts. he couldn't understand how you could be so unaffected by the tension and desire that was palpable between you both.

as he sat there waiting, he began to imagine different scenarios in his mind. scenarios where you suddenly set your phone down and pounced on him, giving him the release he so desperately needed. but he knew that was unrealistic, and it only served to frustrate him further.

“done!” you declared with a sense of satisfaction as you tossed your phone onto his bed. finally, you turned to yuuta, giving him a sweet, reassuring smile. with a playful bounce in your step, you pushed yourself off the bed and walked over to him, making him think that you were ready to spend some quality time together.

however, his hopeful anticipation quickly turned to confusion as you walked right past him and headed towards the fridge. opening the door, you bent over to peer inside, scanning the contents with focused determination.

“yuuta, baby,” you called out, “do you still have that vanilla ice cream? i’ve been craving it all day!” your tone was light and cheerful, clearly more interested in satisfying your sweet tooth than in the cozy moment he had hoped for. yuuta's face fell as he watched you walk past him without even acknowledging his desperate need for your attention. his heart sank as you bent over and started rummaging through the fridge, your focus completely on your craving for ice cream.

he couldn’t believe how easily you seemed to forget about his frustration and desire, as if they were completely insignificant compared to your hunger for sweets. he frowned as he spoke, trying to mask the disappointment in his voice.

“mmm, yeah, it’s still in there…”

after a thorough search through the fridge, you finally spotted the vanilla ice cream tucked in the back. with a satisfied grin, you pulled it out and made your way back to yuuta. you plopped down beside him on the sofa, the ice cream container now in your hands.

without giving yuuta much attention, you set the ice cream on the coffee table and reach for the remote. you turned on the tv, casually flipping through channels as you settled into a comfortable position beside him. you pull the shirt up to your chest, showing yuuta your matching black underwear. the evening’s cozy atmosphere resumed as you started to focus on the show, your attention now firmly on the screen and the ice cream in your hand.

yuuta watched with a mixture of disbelief and frustration as you sat down next to him, completely oblivious to the needs he had been shamelessly expressing just moments ago. he couldn’t believe that you were actually more interested in watching tv and eating ice cream than paying any attention to him.

“what are you doing?” he asked in disbelief. his eyes couldn’t help but roam over your body as you pulled the shirt up and revealed your matching underwear. his body involuntarily reacted to the sight, but it only frustrated him even more, knowing that you had no intentions of satisfying his desires.

you turn your head to him, a confused look coloring your pretty face with a pair of your eyebrows arch, “what? i didn't want the ice cream to get to your shirt,” you tell the boy before turning your attention back to the tv.

yuuta let out a small, scoffing laugh at your nonchalant response. he couldn't believe that you were even more concerned about getting ice cream on his shirt than you were about his obvious frustration and need.

“oh, thanks for that,” he replied, his voice dripping with sarcasm as he rolled his eyes. “i really appreciate you looking out for my shirt, but i think i was hoping for your attention on something else…” you just nodded, clearly not really paying attention to whatever he just said.

yuuta gritted his teeth, feeling increasingly frustrated and ignored. he watched as you continued eating your ice cream and watching tv, as if he wasn’t even there. he could feel the heat rising in his body, a mixture of anger and arousal that he couldn’t seem to control.

he shifted on the sofa, trying to get more comfortable, but the friction between his body and the fabric only made his frustration grow even more. he clenched his fists and tried to speak calmly, despite the frustration threatening to boil over.

“love... can we talk for a minute?”

“hm?” you hummed softly.

you turn your head to him— eyebrows arching for the second time. he watches how you lick your ice cream, starting from the bottom, and dragging your tongue to the top before putting the ice cream full inside your mouth.

yuuta couldn't believe how completely innocent and oblivious you were acting as you licked your ice cream in that incredibly seductive manner. it was driving him insane, his body responding with desperate need even though he was angry at your indifference.

“can you... can you stop doing that for a minute?“ he tried to keep his voice steady, failing to conceal the desire lacing his words. “i need to talk to you about something... it's important.” your side lips irk, like you're mocking him, “what? you wish it was your dick, huh?”

yuuta's face flushed red at your blunt and accurate comment. it was as if you had read his mind and were now taunting him with his own desires. he fidgeted on the sofa, trying to keep his tone steady despite the obvious discomfort in his pants.

“shut up...” he muttered, his voice low and full of frustrated arousal. “i just want to talk to you about... something else, okay?” yuuta's eyes darken as you mock him with that smirk on your face, your words going straight to the growing frustration and arousal within him.

you nodded, “okay.”

but your hand is moving slowly— fingers pinching your ice cream stick and pulling it out and in for a few times, still with that mocking smirk in your lips. yuuta watched as your hand moved, and he couldn’t help but let out a small, involuntary moan. he knew you were doing it on purpose, trying to tease and torture him even more, and it was working all too well. he bit his lip and clenched his fists, trying to keep his control and not give in to the growing need in his body.

“why... why are you doing this to me?” he whispered, his voice filled with a mix of desire and frustration. yuuta's body is tense as he watches you play with the ice cream stick, the sounds of your slurping and licking adding to his growing ache. he can feel his self-control slipping, the desire for you growing stronger with each passing moment.

“i just— i just want to talk to you... can you please. . .put the ice cream down for a minute?” his voice is pleading now, desperation bleeding into the words. again, you nodded, “yes, babe.” so you are putting the ice cream down— down to your throat until you gag before slowly pulling the ice cream out of your mouth.

yuuta’s eyes darkened as he watched you put the ice cream down your throat, the sight of you gagging only adding to the overwhelming mix of desire and frustration coursing through him. he swallows hard, his voice growing even more strained as he speaks, “y/n, that's not what i meant...”

yuuta's frustration and arousal reach a boiling point as he watches you continue to tease him on purpose, making it increasingly difficult for him to think clearly. he knows he should put an end to this maddening game, but his body is betraying him, responding to every action and movement you make.

he takes a deep breath, trying to rein in his desire and speak calmly, yet he can't help the hint of pleading in his voice, “can you please, just stop what you're doing and talk to me?” you nodded enthusiastically, your smile widening as you finally turned your attention back to yuuta. “yes, baby, i’m all done now. we can talk,” you reassured him, placing the ice cream stick down on the table with a contented sigh.

he noticed a small smudge of ice cream lingering at the corner of your lips. the sight made you look even more sensual. you were clearly enjoying the moment, and the bit of ice cream on your lips only added to the fire. it was white and creamy and all yuuta could ever think was how you look with his cum on your lips.

he swallowed hard, his mind wandering to thoughts of how you would look with it replaced by his own... he tried to brush away the thought, but the image was already burned into his mind. “thanks, listen, I really do need to talk to you about something...”

yuuta’s voice trailed off as his gaze fixated on the ice cream smudge on your lip. His mind was overwhelmed with thoughts and images of what he wanted to do to you, and he found it increasingly difficult to focus on the conversation. he cleared his throat, trying to keep his voice even as he continued speaking, “it's important... or at least, i think it is, but i can't concentrate with... with...” he pauses, his eyes locked on that damn smudge of ice cream on your lip.

“with what?”

yuuta’s frustration and desire grew stronger as he continued to stare at your lip, the ice cream smudge taunting him. he knew he should just blurt out what he wanted to say, but the words were stuck in his throat. he took a deep breath, trying to compose himself and form a coherent sentence.

“that, that ice cream smudged... on your lip,” he manages to say, his voice strained and low, “it's distracting me.” he tried to keep his voice steady, but he could hear the slight waver in his tone, betraying the struggle he was having to keep his focus and control. he clenched his fists, silently willing you to just wipe that damn ice cream smudge off your lip, but you just sat there, seemingly oblivious to the effect it was having on him.

he shifted on the sofa, trying to find a more comfortable position, but the movement only served to remind him of the growing ache in his body. he wanted to reach out and wipe it off himself, but he knew that would only make things worse. he swallowed hard, his voice strained as he spoke again, “babe... can you please just wipe that ice cream off your lip? it's driving me insane.”

“oh?” your thumb moves across your lips, brushing the ice cream off of you before licking your finger. “sweet, just like when i swallow you.” yuuta's breath hitched as he watched you wipe the ice cream off your lips with your finger, and then casually licking it clean, as if you were blissfully unaware of the effect you had on him.

he couldn't help but feel a pang of frustration at your nonchalant attitude, but at the same time, his body responded to the sight, stirring with renewed desire at your words, “babe... what are you doing to me...”

you taking off your shirt before moving closer, “wanna taste yourself?” you mumble on his lips after you ring your arms around his neck, closing any gap between you and him. yuuta let out a soft moan as he feels your lips on his, the taste of the sweet ice cream still lingering on them. your arms around his neck only added to his growing arousal, and he found it increasingly difficult to keep his control.

he let his hands roam over your bare skin, tracing the curves and ridges of your body with his fingers as he spoke in a ragged whisper, “god, you're driving me crazy... you know that?”

smiling, you whisper “i know,” on his lips as you push him to lie on the couch, slowly with you on top of him. yuuta's body responds eagerly to your touch and movement, his hands instinctively reaching for your hips and holding you gently in place on top of him. he can feel the heat from your body radiating through him, the sweet, lingering taste of the ice cream still clinging to your lips.

he looks up at you with a mixture of frustration and desire, his voice coming out in a low, gravelly whisper, “you're going to be the death of me, you know that? i-i want you so badly.”

“we can forget the chicken, i'm craving to get rail out of nowhere,” you mumble on his lips, licking his bottom lips. a low, guttural moan escapes from yuuta's lips as he feels you licking his bottom lip, his body responding immediately to your touch and words. he can feel his resolve slipping as his hands grip your hips tighter, pulling you even closer to him on the sofa.

he manages to speak through gasps and breaths, “jesus... the things you do to me.” he can feel the heat of your body pressed against his, his hands begin to roam over the bare skin of your back, tracing the contour of your curves as he no longer fights the rising tide of desire and frustration within him.

by the end of the night, yuuta had certainly made sure that you were thoroughly exhausted and satisfied, paying you back for all the teasing and driving him crazy. the combination of his pent-up frustration and desire had led to a night of intense passion and energy that left you both breathless and spent.

[ohnonotnow]

my library

here's some of the best the hobbit/lotr fanfics I've read cuz they can be quite hard to find and I wanna help

will update the list as I read

Thorin

Smoke, iron and Thorin

Fire and Gold

Learning Khuzdul

Braid of Gold

Thorin being soft

The Beauty of Chance

Those Hands

Misunderstanding

The arrival

A king's crown

Covered In Steam

There's just inches in between us

Thorin after a long day of training with his nephews

In This Moment 

Agreement

Symphony of your life

Oh so quiet

Confession

Find Your Way Back

Fili

fili oneshots

Moonrise

The Most Unpleasant, Defective, and Abominable Incident

Stay with me

The Redeemer

Durin's Garage

Restless

Lost My Way

Kili

The book keeper

insecurities

The beauty and the Beast

getting back at Kili for teasing

My Treasure

Madly in love

It's in his kiss

Love Bites

Sway With Me

Wood Carvings

Softly. . .

Sweet like nectar

A Shot in the Dark

Beorn

Early Mornings

Beorn takes care of you when you're injured

Linger

Legolas

Watcher of Wanderers

The Innocence of Brutality

Blessing

Sensitive

Being best friends with Legolas

Hazy Memories

Spellbound

Thranduil

Bookworm

Relax

Best friends father

Fascination

Flower On My Skin

To Meet Under the Stars

Passenger Princess

Autumn Thunderstorm

I Could Love You With My Eyes Closed

Haldir

Gentle Dark

Lindir

My Heart Is In Your Hands

Moonlight

Just a Little Help

Warriors Great Tales

The Fountain

Return to Me

Èomer

Burnt Bread

A Helping Hand

Wildest Dreams

Falling In Love With A Librarian

SFW alphabet

Happiness

A Roll in the Hay

Blessing

Turning Points

More characters

various characters oneshots

Imagine: elves having highly sensitive ears and you finding out by accidently touching them.

Journey to Erebor

Hair braiding

Elves + Braiding

What Type of Kisser is Each LoTR Character?

The Hobbit Characters + Physical Affection (Suggestive Version)

A Headcanon For Each Member of Thorin’s Company

Cuddling With Thorin's Company

Imagine some of the elves of Middle Earth find out how easy it is to make you (a human staying in Rivendell) blush and become aroused.

The LOTR characters reacting to a modern reader

[sexlapis]

[◉°] …TOJI & Y/N BEING A COUPLE FOR 10 MINUTES STRAIGHT PART 4 … 764k views

—̳͟͞͞♡

ᰋ actor!toji x actor/actress!reader

synopsis: your fans truths delusions about the nature of you & toji’s relationship continues.

a/n: actor!toji is still here guys! ૮ ˙Ⱉ˙ ა

sfw, fluff, crack, ooc toji, mentions of smoking

masterlists

actor!toji masterlist

part one, two, three

*

ᰋ first clip

“hi guys! welcome to ‘baking with y/n, episode two’!” you yell at the camera, grinning, “and today i will be cooking with…” waving your hands out to the side, you announce your guest, “toji fushiguro! come on toji!”

toji’s big stature strolls into view with his hands in his pockets. he makes the entire kitchen area shrink around him due to his domineering size and overall presence.

“alright, alright..” toji chimes, “not too much now.”

“toji. don’t big yourself up too much. this is still my show,” you smile at his dumb, flabbergasted face and turn your attention back to the viewers, “today, we’ll be making cinnamon rolls! mmhmm!”

meanwhile, toji is tying a too-small apron around his torso, tightening it around is cinched waist. his seemingly intimidating demeanour is nullified by the pink, frilly gingham fabric that graces his body.

“‘don’t happen to have any other aprons, do ya?”

“no, why-” you choked on your own spit when you look at the state of toji - wearing a tiny, delicate apron on his large frame.

“toji, wow…you look so nice…”

“you be quiet.”

ᰋ second clip

as a fashion show attendee, and a significant one at that, you were given some of the best seats in the venue. coincidentally, you are placed right next to your friend, toji fushiguro.

when a member of staff leads you to your seat, you seem surprised and happy to find toji there, smiling broadly. toji’s face cannot be seen in the video, but from the way he stood up to greet and hug you, it appears that he reciprocated your feelings!

you both settle in your seats and before long, the show begins. the models walk by. and more models. and even more models.

before you know it, your eyes grow heavy, your head occasionally dipping and shooting back up again. you seemed so tired…

toji looks at you and rubs your knee, speaking a few words to you. in response, you yawn and nod gently. toji leans in a little, whispering words unheard to onlookers and you in turn. you then rest your head on his big, pillowy shoulder, holding onto his elbow as you try not to fall asleep. he rubs his hand over your smaller ones.

you do end up falling asleep. at the fashion event that you were specially invited to by the designer themselves.

luckily for you, the sweet moment between you and toji overshadowed your sleepy behaviour!

ᰋ third clip

when walking on the red carpet of the season two premier of ‘jujutsu kaisen’, you are dragged around for pictures and interviews and speaking with other actors. but one interview with you and toji has everybody talking.

as you answer the question you have received from the interviewer, toji stands beside and he is…not paying attention to your words per say.

his eyes wander from the top of your perfectly styled hair and down to your sharp tailored clothes that fit on your body so nicely.

toji is not at all subtle as he full on checks you out.

“look at their outfit…” he mumbles, shamelessly interrupting the interviewer who was speaking, just to talk about how good you look.

“yea-yeah! they look great!” the interviewer compliments you, a little thrown off by toji’s interruption.

“so, so beautiful…”

you laugh shyly at toji’s words, brushing down your clothes and looking down at yourself, “toji, are you even listening to the questions?”

“what questions?”

ᰋ fourth clip

you are a famous and respected actor. of course you must do a ‘what’s in my bag’ video with vogue.

after going through a couple of your obscure items, you come across some of the more treasured ones that you carry around with you.

“and this-,” you giggle, holding up a small, soft brown stuffed deer toy in the palm of your hand, “this is the little toy that toji got me! i liked the brand that makes these, so we got a toy that reminded us of one another…and he got me a deer.”

you are asked what toy you got for toji.

“i got toji an angry looking white bear. it suits him.”

later on through the video, you pull out a silver, vintage lighter.

“right. so…toji gave me this lighter too,” you flick it on and off a few times, “i told him i don’t smoke and he just say “you say that now but you’ll feel differently after doing this job for five years”” you cackle loudly at the memory, “…yeah, he’s not exactly wrong about that…”

ᰋ fifth clip

blurry footage emerges of you and toji at the after party of an awards show.

the dance area is filled with people dancing and commotion everywhere, but somehow, a fan noticed you and toji in the corner of the room.

a sensual r&b song plays in the background as you dance imperfectly, in between toji’s spread legs, looking at him and promoting him to join you.

he stares at you and takes a swig of his drink. the tie he wears is loose and his hair ruffled.

as you dance along with the song, toji stands and tames your hand in his, spinning you around and pulling you right against his chest and sways the both of you. toji rests his face on the side of your head and closes his eyes as you laugh at his antics.

that one video confirmed every single suspicion that your fans ever had about you and toji.

*

tag list: @tiredslepz | @hayatslife | @shxyxyxxxx | @snowprincesa1 | @laylasbunbunny | @mimiemie | @ncentic | @rosesored | @imover-18 | @gintokhi | @suzuperstarr | @lostgxrlblog | @jallie10 | @nnsav | @bunnyx-sakura | @bubbabobabubbles | @ladytamayolover | @keiva1000 | @morgyyyyyyy | @studiecoherence | @earth2fae | @ce-namonreads | @ib4ryuguji | @hisjaegerist | @basiloverthyme | @sweet-kiwi | @sayitowshi | @iovemytoru | @thecompletechaosmaster | @sugutoad | @inumakiiz | @uzxotic | @1meshugge1 | @kunikuzushisbeloved

a/n: an actor!toji fic after 2 months. he lives!

[whirlybirbs]

— NOISE COMPLAINT ; eijiro kirishima ; 切島

summary: red riot feels really bad about absolutely wrecking the shit out of your treasured plants, or eijiro kirishima falls in love at first sight. pairing: f!reader / pro hero!red riot word count: 3.7k tags: mutual pining, fluff/comfort, humor, very gentlemanly make-out, reader is a fan of red riot, mention of ingenium thirst (truth) a/n: kiri might be a twenty-seven year old pro hero in this fic but he is an absolute lovesick virgin who gets all his romantic cues from k-dramas. you cannot force me to think otherwise.

This is exactly the sort of night you needed.

The television, low and quiet, drones on as a deep-dive video on terrariums plays. Your apartment is clean — dishes done, laundry folded and trash taken out. There's a new candle burning on the coffee table, and a Dynamight-themed, cucumber-melon eye mask plastered to your delightedly thoughtless expression.

It's supposed to be good for dark circles. It kinda burns. You wonder if maybe that's, like, part of the gimmick. Y'know. Burns. Dynamight. 

Whatever.

No thoughts. Only the pleasure of turning everything off — brain included — for a perfect Friday night, complete with a mediocre glass of wine and no pants. 

The oversized Red Riot t-shirt clinging to your frame is your favorite. You've had it since college — it's a simple red tee with REAL MEN RIOT blazoned across the front, complete with your favorite hero popping a cheeky, shark-like grin and a double bicep. It's faded, stretched out, and broken in but it's also clean, and it smells like fabric softener and comfort.

This is the life. 

Even Twitter is decidedly pretty calm tonight. 

You're scrolling through your timeline, snickering at your friends' recent thirst tweets over Ingenium's recent GQ Japan shoot when it starts.

Apparently, your upstairs neighbors are home.

You thought those guys were out of town for the week. 

You've had beautiful, silent bliss for too long. The buck stops tonight, you suppose.

There's a shout overhead, then a scramble. Another voice joins the fray, and you swear you hear someone call someone else an idiot. You frown deeply as your eyes trail upwards. You wait, expecting more noise, but unsettling silence follows.

Your eye twitches.

Annoyance tips into a simmering rage.

The apartment complex is old. It's in decent shape, and the rent isn't half bad, but the walls are thin. Your upstairs neighbors have been like this as long as you can remember: shouting, stomping, fighting... Some nights it's like being subjected to musical chairs, modern contemporary tap dance, and experimental sound drum solos all at once. 

Your first week was the worst. You dragged yourself up the back to knock on their door and politely negotiate some silence — but the man who opened the door was less than pleased to have his little dude-bro circle-jerk interrupted. He told you to fuck off, get bent, and leave him the fuck alone. 

Then, before he slammed the door in your face, he procured the sort of audacity only assholes possessed and laughed at your Red Riot shirt — which is just plain unforgivable, frankly. 

"That guy's a fuckin' pussy." 

Sure, sure, sure, right, right, right.

The interaction told you everything you needed to know about the two (or four?) men who lived upstairs. They were losers. And they were fuckin' annoying. 

And, as it turns out, manufacturing bad batches of Trigger. 

You don't know that yet, but truth be told it isn't exactly shocking.

Maybe it's your fault for picking an apartment complex in this part of Tokyo. This part of Arawaka Ward is rarely found on those top-ten-neighborhoods-for-young-professionals lists, but it's affordable! And for day laborers like you, it worked. And hey, in recent months, the crime rate has gone down at least 5% — which only quelled the anxieties of your mom and dad by about the same percentage. 

The candle on the coffee table flickers, and you're about to turn back to your slow Twitter feed when there's another bang upstairs — this one admittedly loud enough to send a wave through your wine beside you. You slip your eyes slowly to the glass, perched on a coaster, as another bang rattles your apartment. You reach to still the vibrating glass on the side table. 

That's when the shouting really starts.

And it's when you notice the growing brightness of red and blue lights outside the window.

The apartment complex is pretty big. There are about sixty residents and six floors. You lucked out and managed to snagone of the last available Western-facing studios with a balcony — which made for a perfect plant haven. 

It was a recent hobby, but one that quickly became your calm after the chaos of the day-to-day. Working for the city's Heroics Response Department left you picking up the physical pieces (literally) of a lot of lives. Your quirk might be the usual, run-of-the-mill strength-based ability, but it comes in handy in the aftermath of property damage due to — what the Nation's Safety Commission has labeled — "villain-aggressed encounters". 

All in all, it's a good gig. It's physically demanding but rewarding. The pay is good, you've got union benefits, and you even have a per-diem schedule. It keeps you busy, and though it's not your father's construction business, it's a career path your parents are proud of. 

The slice-of-heaven balcony is bustling with plants. Some are happier than others, sure, but it's pretty. You've admittedlyformed an emotional bond with those vines, leaves, and flowers. 

It's perfect.

It's also perfect for snooping whenever things like this go down in your complex, or the sister complex across the parking lot. 

The shouting match upstairs is escalating, and you take the moment to tip-toe towards your balcony door to peek outside. It looks like two or three police cruisers have pulled up outside. Maybe someone called for a noise complaint? Maybe the property manager was tired of dealing with those losers?

Cackling to yourself, and hoping for a vindicating show of revenge (NO ONE CALLS RED RIOT A PUSSY), you yank open your balcony door and slip outside just as the sound of a pot crashing meets your ears.

Then:

"Shit, shit, shit—"

There's someone on the balcony. That someone's boot is currently stuck in an empty terracotta pot you were saving for spring. Your eyes are wide as you watch the shadow leap to his other foot, lose his balance, and unceremoniously knock over your entire, six-foot-tall, and well-treasured plant stand. You slap a hand over your mouth mid-shriek, hands flying to try and save whatever you can. 

You fail.

Eijiro Kirishima freezes.

What the fu—

It takes a second.

Like, a full second. Maybe even two. Your brain can't make sense of the sight before you. Neither can his, really. 

There's a girl on this balcony. A pretty girl. Like, mega pretty. Like soft and warm and cute and you smell kinda like vanilla — and there's... You're wearing his merch. His merch and... nothing else. Nothing else but a Dynamight eye mask and a pair of fluffy socks. 

...Is this what it's like to fall in love at first sight?

Shit.

Red Riot is on your balcony.

The Red Riot.

Red Riot, the hero in question, catches himself staring. His wide eyes openly wander over your figure (woah, okay, hello thighs), and the second he realizes it, he quickly snaps his eyes up to your face with a mortified expression. "Uh... hi!"

"...Hi...?"

Your expression is tied between shame, fear, and sheepishness as you blink once at him, then twice at the mess of your hobby's destruction. There's dirt everywhere, a plant stand blocking the doorway, and carnage. Your precious babies have been murdered. 

By Red Riot.

And... Red Riot is on your balcony. 

You repeat: Red Riot is on your balcony. 

Abort mission, abort mission.

Your lips part, your mouth hangs open, and every single thought in your head seems to stutter. Kirishima winces as you look down dejectedly at your plants (or, what remains) before he speaks.

"I, uh— is it cool if I..." he points upwards, "Use your balcony?" 

You're speechless.

You draw your mouth shut and nod hurriedly.

"Thanks," he grins, giving you a thumbs up — and a smile. A toothy, cute, nervous smile, "Lemme just... I gotta handle something. B-But, I'll be back. I'll help fix this mess — just... five minutes, okay?"

It hits you suddenly that his voice sounds different from all those interviews you've watched. It's a little warmer, a little raspier, a little less heroic. It's cute. 

Your brain is still having a hard time connecting the words coming out of his mouth to the scene before you — like, yes frontal lobe, this is real. This is happening.

Red Riot is real and Red Riot is on your balcony. 

He's shockingly gentle when he finally frees his boot from your terracotta pot, setting it down with purposeful delicacy — he even whispers 'please stay' as he props it upright — and then steps back to eye the balcony above yours like an athlete remembering a gameplan. 

He's trying to figure out the best way up. 

How he even got up here is news to you. 

(It was Uravity, as it turns out. They've been patrolling together more in this Ward.)

Red Riot is huge. Like, huge. 

Broad shoulders, rippling biceps, and long, fluffy crimson hair. It's daunting to realize how tall he is in person. The guy is a beast — everyone knows it — but his chivalrous nature is that thing that usually draws in his fans. It's no secret that Red Riot is sweet. He openly champions the need to be a good role model for men everywhere. Y'know, you can be strong and nice!

A sharp canine glints in your apartment's light as he pokes his tongue out and thinks for a second. 

Then, he settles on his plan. 

"You might wanna head inside," Red Riot says as he rolls his shoulders and bounces on the balls of his feet; he's readying up for a fight — and you blink as the beautiful realization dawns on you, "This could get kinda loud."

Loud?

Oh my god.

Is he here for your upstairs neighbors?

Oh my god, he is. 

Your jaw falls open as you bark out a laugh — it's an incredulous rasp that sends you into a spiral of joy; you're not a vengeful person by any means but...

"They're gonna shit themselves," you grin, your eyes alight with pure delight and a spark of something that reminds Kirishima a lot little bit of Bakugo, "They called you a pussy—"

Kirishima's brows shoot upwards as he pauses. He was about to jump and dig his hands into the underside of the balcony, but his quirk is stalling at your words. There's a roaring fire blazing in your eyes, one that screams retribution. 

It's... comical.

You cackle again at him with a wide grin, hissing conspiratorily. "They made fun of my shirt!"

You point down at the REAL MEN RIOT tee with both hands, your face set in a look of vindicated glee. Then, the second realization of the night hits — that you've got no pants on, and that stupid, goofy Dynamight eye mask is still on your face. You make a soft sound of embarrassment and tug your shirt down lower, trying to cover up. He cannot see your underwear. No. No way, no fucking way. Without a single word, you reach up, snatch the Dynamight eye mask off your face, and whip it off the balcony without a second thought. 

Slowly, Kirishima's face splits into a pointy grin. 

Holy shit, he's so fucking hot. 

"Oh, man," Red Riot rumbles, his face cracking into a sharp, playful smirk, "That's real rude. I might have t' teach these guys some manners."

Your smile returns, washing away the wobbly look of embarrassment sticking to your cheeks. 

Man, it sure is cute.

You are really cute, Kirishima realizes.

"Right! And who calls Red Riot a pussy?" you counter excitedly, before reigning it in and awkwardly lowering your arms as you try to tug your shirt down to hide the tops of your thighs again. Your glee has stifled a little bit, but it only reaffirms Kirishima's duty to wrap this all up. 

"Yea, that's, like, super misogynistic," he muses as his quirk kicks in and his hands flick into a hardened state. It's insaneto witness the way his large hands transform into weapons with a single breath. You can see the jagged extension of his quirk working up his large arms, too, "Lemme just have a lil' word with these boys, alright? Head on inside, I'll be back in a sec'."

Then, with graceful ease, he hops upwards with a little hup before latching to the base of the upstairs neighbor's balcony. 

It's insane how effortless it is for him to haul himself up the balcony, his hands dug into the cement. His upper body strength is insane. He's scaling the terrace, alternating his grip. He disappears into the dark, swinging his body upwards and reaching his destination.

You tamp down your awe in favor of heeding his directions: head inside.

You're closing the balcony door when you hear Red Riot's voice greet the unexpecting gaggle.

"Hey, fellas! I heard you guys are some super fans. Got anything you want me to sign?"

You snicker to yourself as you hear the beginning of a fight. 

Again, as it turns out, the guys upstairs sucked. Like, mega sucked. They'd been responsible for several recent Trigger overdoses; Uravity and Red Riot were working with law enforcement to track the small-time manufacturers — which explains why they'd been so quiet lately. They suspected someone was on their tail. 

As Red Riot scaled their balcony, law enforcement waited to break down their door. They arrested the four men (Seriously? Four? In that studio?) without much incident — however, you did spy a broken nose on one of them as they were hauled into the back of the awaiting cruisers. 

Sweet, sweet revenge. 

By the time your neighbors are carted off, you've shimmed into some sweats and made a half-assed attempt to look sort ofpresentable, all while firing off a few contextually incomprehensible texts into your group chat.

red riot has seen me in my underwear wtf do i do know kiss him?

You're really weighing your options when there's a knock on your balcony entry. It's gentle and cordial. You turn, head snapping, and spy that trademarked (and a dozen times retweeted) smile through the glass. He waves. 

Your heart leaps into your throat. You try to remember to breathe as you shuffle over and tug the balcony door open. The night air is cool.

Be like the night air.

Stay cool.

Eijiro feels so silly. And guilty. And honestly? Really into you. 

You're still wearing that shirt — the one with his face on it. You have opted to put on pants, but Kirishima still reminds himself to keep his eyes on your face. No ogling. That's not very gentlemanly. 

There's a beat of awkward silence as the two of you wait for the other to speak, and Kirishima is the one to break it with a raspy laugh.

"I wanted to apologize about your plants," a large hand moves to rub the back of his neck, "I cleaned up as best I could. I'm really, really sorry."

You wave him off, leaning into the doorframe. "No, it's okay! It's nothing I can't... fix. I think?"

You look beyond him to the catastrophic mess of plant matter. He must have tried tidying up while you rattled off the rapid-fire texts in the group chat. 

Red Riot's face warbles into something tied between mortification and guilt. "Please forgive me."

"Seriously!" you cry, waving your hands as you try to placate his dejected expression, "Please don't feel bad. It's a fair trade, y'know. Those guys upstairs were, like, the worst."

"I can only imagine," Eijiro concedes, frowning a little, "They didn't give you too much trouble, did they?"

You shake your head and laugh a little, "Aside from insulting my favorite hero to my face? Not really."

Kirishima can feel his face get a little hot. He shifts from boot to boot. His smile is a little woozy. "So... you're a fan?"

You don't need to tell him the underwear you have on matches the shirt — red, with an embroidered RR on the front. You keep that to yourself. You just nod happily.

"Really?" his grin cracks into something so excitable it makes your entire stomach flip, "I don't meet a lotta fans who are..."

His words drift off.

He's staring at your eyes. You're so... soft. Warm. Your eyes are swirling with quiet, astonished adoration and it's making Kirishima feel like he's floating. 

"Who are...?" your brow quirks as you lean deeper into the doorframe, trying to coax out the rest of the sentence.

"Gorgeous," he breathes, his posture relaxing a little as he soaks in your expression.

It's like getting sucker punched to the sternum.

All the wind rushed out of your lungs.

The soft moment only lasts a beat, because suddenly Red Riot's face screws up and he waves his hands hurriedly. "Wait, no. Hold on, I mean — all of my fans are gorgeous, because, uh, they're my fans and I love them, right? It's not like they're not gorgeous, I just — I'm... I... My fans are, like, usually dudes? A-And that's totally cool because dudes can be gorgeous, too, y'know? But—"

You're laughing.

Kirishima is realizing he was not paying enough attention in his agency's PR training last month and you're laughing.

"I get it," you giggle, crossing your arms and grinning up at him, "I mean, I definitely don't think I'm gorgeous but—"

"You are," he assures firmly, his expression serious.

Are you dead?

Are you, like, literally ascending to a higher plane right now?

There's no fucking way this is happening. 

Your lips part in quiet shock as you bite back a smile that threatens to cramp up your cheeks. Kirishima eats it up, his posture perking up at the way you seem to melt at his compliment. His smile is boyish — almost dizzy. 

You duck a bashful look towards the tiled floor of the balcony, not really giving a singular shit that your beloved monstera has been stomped on.

Kirishima clears his throat, then — in a move he totally hasn't swooned over in those K-dramas he's secretly obsessed with, that'd be ridiculous — he props his arm up against your door and leans over you. Your faces are close in the warm light of the balcony. 

Your eyes stutter up his abdomen, chest, jaw, lips, and eyes. Kirishima notices. It's really, really cute.

"Are you, uh... Are you seeing anyone?" 

Of course, Red Riot would ask that. Red Riot, the king of chivalry. How is something like that so endearing? For the tenth time tonight, he makes your stomach flip.

You shake your head no, a little too stunned to speak.

"Cool," Eijiro musters over a shake of nerves, "Cool. Okay. Uh, then would it... would it be okay if I bought you some new plants?"

You nod, swallowed entirely by his shadow. He's so fucking huge. 

"And if I took you to dinner?" 

Another nod.

"...And — shit. You're, like, so cute," the smooth persona he's put on melts a little as his eyes roam your face; you feel so... shy, "I was gonna ask you something else but..."

"My number?" you offer, fiddling with the hem of your shirt as you maintain eye contact. 

Is it hot? You're sweating. Is he sweating? He's hot. 

Eijiro nods, absolutely mesmerized by the way you tug your lip between your teeth. "That. Yea."

He has to fight back the urge to bite his knuckle when you turn away and move towards your kitchen to snag your phone. Kirishima stays put, allowing himself one moment of ogling. When you turn around, he's clearing his throat and crossing a boot over his ankle. 

He's still leaning up against the doorway.

"Here," you slip him the phone.

Eiijiro takes it — then hesitates for a second.

"...You're not gonna leak my number, are you?"

You have to laugh. You rub your cheek and shake your head before crossing your arms and looking up at him. "If you think I'm going to do anything to fumble this, you're wrong." 

Fumble this? Fumble him? He's the one that is at risk of fumbling, are you serious?

Eijiro barks out a surprised laugh as he enters his number, shoots a quick text his way then ignores the buzz in his back pocket. He hands your phone back and tries so fucking hard to ignore the way your fingers brush his. 

He got your number.

Holy shit, he got your number.

"Hey, Red Riot?"

He blinks down at you. "Y-Yea?"

You gesture for him to come closer, and he obeys easily — he bends a bit at the waist, his hair falling along his shoulders as he smiles down at you in the threshold of your apartment.

"Is everything alri—?"

You pop a chaste kiss against his cheek. 

Or, try. 

As you hop up onto your tippy toes to kiss his cheek, Eijiro is turning his head at the sound of Urvaity calling his name simultaneously. Trajectory failed, and now it's lips and lips instead of lips on cheek — and honestly? He owes Ochaco one for this. 

Red Riot melts — actually, truly, genuinely melts. His posture slumps down as you let out a shocked little sound of apology. But, Eijiro doesn't mind, and fuck, neither do you — because one hand braces against the doorframe above your head while his other hand is suddenly on your waist. He steadies himself, and damn. Damn. 

He breaks away when Uravity calls his name again. Kirishima is breathless and blushing, and your knees feel like jello. 

"I... Uh, I gotta go—"

"Yea, totally," you breathe, swallowing down the burn of unfiltered attraction, "Sorry, I was trying to kiss your cheek—"

Another call of his name. Red Riot curses softly before hollering a 'COMING!' over his shoulder, out past the edge of the balcony. 

When he turns back, he's fast to sweep you into another kiss — this one hotter than before. This one draws you into his chest, sending your hands colliding with the hot skin of his chest. There's muscle and scars and heat beneath your fingertips. His hand curls around your lower back, and you nearly moan. 

He peels himself away with an apologetic look as he backs towards the edge of the balcony. "I gotta go — I'll text you once patrol is over. Is that okay? I'm serious about the plants. And dinner." 

All you can do is nod.

Eijiro is kinda proud of himself for stunning you stupid with that kiss.

This is exactly the sort of night you needed.