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justporo · 23 days

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Instead of Roses

It's your birthday! And oh, your vampire knows how to treat you so well - in every kind of way.

MASTERLIST | AO3

Author's Note: Well, technically my birthday is already over by half an hour - but we'll say it counts. I wanted to write a *small* self-indulgent thing for myself as much as you as a treat. Don't we all know how these things go in the end around here... Have tooth-rotting fluff that turns into smut! Enjoy!

Pairing: Astarion/Fem!Tav (You) Warnings: explicit sexual content, porn with feelings, vaginal fingering, nipple play, vaginal sex, creampie, aftercare Wordcount: 3,1k

~~~

You woke from Astarion softly kissing your cheek. His lips on your face feeling like a feather caressing it. He whispered against your skin in between kisses, making his way down to your throat. You felt his cool breath brush over your skin, leaving goosebumps on the nape of your neck.

Being softly dragged from your dreams you needed a few moments until you could make out what sweet nothings your vampire kept murmuring against your pulse point before he pressed his lips to the delicate skin there again.

“Good morning, darling,” Astarion mumbled again when you slowly opened your eyes and began stretching with him leaning over you, loosely caging you with his arm he was propped up on. “Happy birthday, my sweet,” he continued, his words so low they were merely more than a rumble in his throat.

“Hm, is it?” you murmured back sleepily and turned your head a little so you could look at your lover. Astarion was smiling ever so softly at you, curls still messy from sleep but his crimson eyes glimmering happily at you. He was shirtless - but had pants on for some reason - while you remained pleasantly naked beneath the covers.

You rolled your neck and stretched your limbs - like a cat would after getting up from a good rest. Astarion eyed you lovingly, smile growing into his signature smirk. He was definitely up to something - but when wasn’t he?

“I know you said you didn’t know when your actual birthday is,” he explained, cocking his head to his side observing you as you raised your eyebrows at him and couldn’t resist a deep yawn that rolled over you - and another big stretch. “So I thought: wouldn’t today be just perfect?” Astarion concluded and kissed you fully on the lips before nuzzling his nose behind one of your pointy ears, tickling you.

You shivered and chuckled and tried to push him off. But this only resulted in the pale elf wrapping his naked arms around you and tickling you more with the tip of his nose at the nape of your neck.

Wiggling in his arms you tried to escape him but it was no use.

Rolling around your enormous bed while the vampire was teasing you - his hands joining in to tickle you at your waist - it threatened to turn into full blown melee combat. Even with your hand in his face and fingers spread to push him off, Astarion only laughed and doubled down on his attacks by trying to nibble on your fingers - damned vampire.

But as you looked around for a weapon other than a pillow that, shoved in a vampire’s face, emitted a loud hiss from the predator but nothing more, your eyes wandered over something on your nightstand. And suddenly you smelled it too!

Stopping your efforts to escape Astarion - and he apparently deemed you sufficiently teased by tickling - you saw that a nice plate of scrambled eggs with veggies, a bowl of fresh strawberries and a nice steaming cup of tea was placed there. Along with a single white blossom that you recognised from your tiny garden, placed in a random chalice that usually was meant for wine.

“You made me breakfast?” you asked, feeling how warmth filled your chest at the image of a half-naked Astarion standing in the kitchen of your small townhouse to prepare food for you. You moved around a little until you were laying on your side. Astarion softly wrapped his arms around you and scooched up to you until he was spooning you. He pressed another kiss to the crown of your head.

“Of course, isn’t that what spouses do for their partner’s birthdays?”

Your heart was about ready to melt.

You craned your neck to give your vampire a kiss.

The eggs were a bit burned you had noticed. But it all smelled delicious and he’d prepared all your favourite things for you. He was really trying so hard - and succeeding even harder.

“You’re the sweetest, Astarion!” You beamed at him.

The vampire looked very pleased with himself.

“I know. Aren’t I just the best” - you hummed in agreement - “handsomest” - another hum but with lips curling into a teasing pout - “most forthcoming” - you huffed lightly - “and smar-”

Grabbing a nearby pillow you smacked him in the face with it. “And so humble too,” you replied sickeningly sweet as Astarion hissed at you once more and shoved the pillow out of his face - his hair even a little worse for wear than before.

You giggled while the vampire acted as if he was brooding - the corners of his lips dragging up betraying him though.

“Insolent little mi-”

But once more you interrupted him by straining to turn around to grab his face and kiss him. With your mouth moving against his you tried to convey how much your chest was swelling with love for him at this lovely gesture. How much you adored him.

And just to be sure: “You’re the best, Astarion,” you whispered against his lips while you felt the vampire’s hands start to roam under the covers while he hummed happily - not only soothed but pleased.

His hands kept wandering as the kiss deepened and slowed. And you gasped lightly into his mouth, as you sensed what he was about to do.

“I have more in stock for you, my sweet,” the vampire murmured against your lips when he broke the kiss as you felt his fingers purposefully slide down your naked form beneath the covers before quickly diving between your legs. You turned your head away once more, closing your eyes and felt how Astarion moved his head to lightly bite down on one of your pointy ears.

“So much more.”

His voice was almost a growl directly in it. You were still on your side, Astarion wrapped around you. He pressed his lips to this spot directly below your ear and made you shudder.

“Oh?” you almost moaned as the vampire’s long fingers stroked along your core, already getting wet from that and his sinful promise.

“Did you get me roses too?” you tried to tease him. But the way his index began circling your clit was making it hard to keep even an edge of sass towards the vampire in your voice.

Involuntarily, you bucked your hips with a gasp when his fingers stroked along the sensitive bud between your legs more forcefully. You rubbed your ass against his crotch, snuggled up behind you. Even through the covers and his pants you felt that he was just as hard for you as you were wet for him.

“No roses, my heart,” Astarion replied, lips directly at your ear again.

“I thought I’d give you something even more pleasant instead,” he whispered and in time with his words let two of his fingers enter you, taking you by surprise.

A moan was ripped from your lips. You threw your head back and arched your spine.

“How thoughtful of you,” you replied breathlessly as you felt your lover’s fingers wandering to your clit again, covering it in your own slick. Astarion just laughed haughtily, knowing exactly the effect he had on you.

The heat pooling between your legs as you absent-mindedly pressed your thighs together for even more friction was quickly becoming like lava. And Astarion didn’t give you much of a break. His other hand was working its way to your boobs now. It began to squeeze them, the vampire’s long fingers spread out, squishing them together as more lewd sounds spilled from your lips.

“Fuck,” you cursed when at the same time his fingers entered your cunt again and with his other hand he rolled your hardened nipple between his thumb and index.

“Who, love?” Astarion teased. “Me?” Another finger entered you. “You?” His other fingers pinched the hardened peak of your breasts. The groan caught in your throat.

“Both, you bastard,” you pressed out followed by a desperate moan as the vampire worked your body like a musician did his beloved instrument. Caressing and teasing simultaneously, lovingly but with force plucking and stroking to elicit the sweetest notes from you.

Gods, you needed more. You tried to open your legs to give your lover better access to work his magic but felt the bed sheets restrict you. With a frustrated groan you kicked them away, aided by Astarion momentarily letting go of your breasts. But once you were freed of all fabric his hand was quickly back where it had left off, kneading your tits as they felt heavy with lust.

You opened your legs wide for Astarion with a dreamy sigh as he pressed himself against you from behind harder now, rubbing his hardened length against your ass. With a grunt he bucked his hips into you as he rewarded your eagerness by stroking your clit with the pad of his thumb now.

He was doing this for you, you knew. But as his grip on you became stronger, a little more desperate and you felt his hard dick press against you, you knew this was as thrilling for him as it was for you. And that made the moans coming from you almost turn into growls while you arched your back harder, desperate to give you both some more friction to work with.

To be desired and loved by a man like him-

Just knowing this made you almost unravel fully beneath his deft fingers.

Astarion had buried his face at your neck, his lush curls softly tickling you and sending electric shivers through you.

For a while the room was filled with nothing but breathless, needy sounds from each of you.

“Astarion,” you moaned as you were practically grinding against his hand, trying to get more of this delicious sensation. Your vampire merely groaned in response - barely taking in how desperately his name was rolling off your tongue.

Your lover’s hands were all busy with offering you all the pleasure he thought you deserved. And seemingly his mind was all filled with you as well as his face was buried in your hair, his gasps and moans brushing over you. You felt his hardened length twitch in need even through his clothes.

“Astarion,” you exclaimed again, even more desperation in your voice now, feeling as if you might perish on the spot when his fingertips hit just that spot as they dragged over your clit again.

“What is it, my love?” he replied, voice almost as desperate as yours.

“Me-,” you gasped and bit your lip hard as the way your nipple was teased sent another jolt through your entire body. The vampire just made a quizzical sound in response.

“Godsdammit,” you pressed out as he gave you not a moment of peace with how his hands worked your body. You could barely form half a thought.

“Fuck me, Astarion,” you almost shouted in frustration, your hands helplessly curling in the sheets. The tension inside you became almost unbearable.

But thankfully your partner finally moved to fulfil your request.

Astarion only shortly moved away from you to wiggle out of his pants while cursing profusely. Just by the way the bed was swaying under his struggles showed you how desperate he too must have been to answer your plea.

Quickly, you let your own hands take the place of your lovers’ so as to not lose any steam: squeezing your own tits with a moan. And with the other feeling how obscenely wet he’d gotten you. You were a heated, desperate mess already - and you weren’t nearly done.

Soon after, you felt Astarion roll around again, his arms wrapping around you once more, his hands covering yours, lacing with them. His dick was hard as granite as he moved to let it slide along your hot, wet folds.

For a few delicious long moments your lover was rolling his hips into you, making his twitching length slide along your slit again and again - precum mixing with your wetness - while his and your hands together played around with you.

Your pleasure became his and vice versa, as if there were no bounds between his body and yours.

The sounds you made rose in pitch and lewdness as you revelled in the sensation and how wonderfully debaucherous it felt to be touched and caressed like that by the love of your life. And yet you didn’t even have him where you wanted him.

“Gods,” Astarion breathed as he took you in. How you writhed in his embrace: so needy and yet giving him so much. His movements almost halted, to bewitched by you. So you reminded him of what exactly you wanted.

“Fuck me, Astarion,” you pleaded with him again, grinding against his cock and his hand now to get him moving again. “Fuck me hard.”

Astarion’s breath caught in his throat at your harsh and enticing demand.

“Fuck me until I see stars,” you kept begging, your words like the beckoning song of a siren in the vampire’s ears.

Oh how sweet you sounded as you requested such frivolity, tempting him.

And Astarion wasn’t one to resist temptation. Not if it was so much more rewarding to give in. Not if it was you.

Suddenly he could barely move fast enough to comply, even with his roguish quickness and dexterous hands.

His fingers that had been teasing your tits together with yours grabbed your already lifted leg to give him easier access to your core. And between your legs your hands quickly worked together to lead the head of his impatiently jerking cock to your entrance. But not before you hadn’t let your hand stroke along his erect length, earning a helpless grunt that almost became a whimper from Astarion as your palm dragged along his cock and then his balls.

“Fuck,” he swore.

And somehow you found it in you to reply even as the head of his cock was sinking into you. “Who?” you teased, voice dripping with sarcasm. “You or me?”

But the vampire had the upper hand now as he bucked his hips to sink into you to the hilt with a single hard thrust. “You,” he growled back as you yelped in surprise. “In every sense possible.”

You tried to grip for something - for balance or to help you cope with the sudden sensation of how full you were, you didn’t even know. But Astarion didn’t let your hand, still joined with his between your legs, escape. So just the other curled in the sheets until your knuckles showed white.

Still trying to catch your breath you already felt how he almost fully withdrew from you. You mirrored him by slowly breathing out

But Astarion caught you off guard again, thrusting into you again, forcefully. His hand wrapped around your leg spread you further for him as he did it again. Slowly but vigorously rutting into you in a ragged rhythm that left you near breathless.

“Astarion,” you managed to utter between two thrusts. You were barely able to cope with how hard he fucked you now but still the way his name fell from your lips coaxed him on. Meanwhile you nearly lost your mind by how well you fulfilled your wish.

His thrusts became faster and harder still as he lifted you almost off the bed in his eager need to feel you. Feel you as fully and entirely as he could.

The hand between your legs, still entwined with yours, made your fingers circle around your clit together again as you had forgotten about it; too lost in how roughly he fucked you.

With every single thrust he hit so deep he was already making good on making you see stars and you knew your release would shatter you completely - not just stars then but a whole universe.

Nearing the edge and with the vampire plunging into you forcefully and fast now, you gave up on trying to keep your balance. But your vampire kept you close and steady, rearranging his other arm not spreading your legs for him so you were snuggly with your back against his chest.

And so he could keep moaning into your ear while the sounds you made became more and more desperate whimpers: almost unable to keep up and also still begging for more. There was nothing left to form words anymore. Just him inside you and at the same time all around you as you felt the last of your threads came undone.

Your joint fingers between your legs mirrored his strong, fast pace and then-

You came with a scream and your voice breaking as Astarion kept fucking you through your orgasm. Floating somewhere far above your body, shuddering helplessly as the pinnacle of lust shook through you, you felt how Astarion came as well, dick twitching and spilling inside of you while he moaned your name over and over again like a credo. And even then he kept thrusting again, twice, thrice more in slow and hard movements, drawing out your orgasm for you and you drifted up even further.

Until you toppled over together in a shuddering, breathless mess, too exhausted to speak while you slowly returned to your earthly body.

Astarion carefully helped you lower your shivering leg and his arms held you carefully as you were almost laying on your stomach, him above you.

Still breathless and void of speech, he pressed a kiss to your cheek as you had your face buried in the pillows you were laying on.

Your vampire withdrew from you and began whispering soft loving words to you while his hands began rubbing your body.

When you finally had the breath and the mind for it you sluggishly mumbled something into the pillows.

“What’s that, my sweet?” Astarion asked who even with his vampiric senses couldn’t make out your words.

You turned your head slightly. “I said I love you, Astarion,” you repeated.

“I love you too, darling.”

“And then I said that I fear the eggs are cold now,” you repeated truthfully and yawned as a wave of blissful exhaustion from the earth shattering sex you just had washed over you.

From your lowered position you saw how your vampire stared quizzically at you. Then he burst into laughter. He slowly climbed off you and off the bed.

“Well, you insisted I’d fuck you first, so whose fault is that, my sweet, hm?”

Laughing more, he dodged the pillow that came flying for his head. Then he grabbed his pants and pulled them on.

“But just because it’s your birthday,” Astarion said with a pointed look, a dramatic sigh and a smirk on his lips “I’m making you fresh ones.”

And then with a wink he was off.

You smiled broadly - so hard your face hurt - and stayed there for a moment longer, reminiscing about how much you loved this stupid idiot.

Then you jumped off the bed, grabbed something to throw over your naked body and ran after Astarion to keep him company while he would inevitably burn another round of eggs for you.

~~~ If you enjoyed this you can support me by reblogging this! You can also support me on Kofi (pinned post on my profile)! ~~~ Taglist (DM if you want to be added please): @spacebarbarianweird @sunfire-ancunin @tragedybunny @dependsonthedream @tallymonster @magazzne @micropoe10 @aoirohi @my-bunny-prince @lumienyx @fayeriess @darlingxdragon @hereliesblackdragon @ayselluna @ajokeformur-ray @i-cant-get-into-my-other-account @rikuyrk06 @marina-and-the-memes @somewhatclear @miss-rebel-without-applause

#astarion #astarion x tav #astarion x you #astarion x reader #astarion ancunin #bg3 #astarion bg3 #fanfiction #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 spoilers #astarion x mc

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danikamariewrites · 1 month

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Babying Azriel Headcanon

Azriel x reader

A/n: just some hc about showing Az some love. I’ve missed writing just for Azzy so enjoy this

Warnings: none

In public and in front of the IC Azriel is very affectionate with you

He does not shy away from PDA

But behind closed doors this male CLINGS to you

Like he is so in love with you it’s not even funny and you make sure Az knows he is loved

You basically pavloved him into needing your touch

You always throw our self at him when he comes him, jumping into his arms and telling him how happy you are to have him home and in your arms

He doesn’t move from the entry way unless he sees you running at him

Az does understand that you won’t always be home when he gets there and he does come home late some nights

He does get sad when you can’t hug him first thing though

Whenever he frowns it breaks your heart. You always have to fix that immediately

Az came home from Windhaven with his brothers one evening, just in time for dinner. Nyx had ran up to his dad and uncle with you trailing not far behind. You waited until the little boy greeted them for you to throw yourself at Az. He looked so worn down you considered not throwing yourself into his arms. Once Az saw you his face lit up! He stood ready, arms open and knees bent a little, ready to pick you up and hold you tight to his chest.

You launch yourself at him, jumping and wrapping your arms and legs around Azriel. “Azzy! I missed you!” You place kisses all over his face. He doesn’t care that Cassian and Rhys are watching. Azriel basks in your love and attention. Once you’re done he buries his face in the crook of your neck, inhaling your calming scent. Cass and Rhys’s jaws drop as you talk to him in a babying voice that you use when you’re alone. You just can’t help it!

Kisses kisses kisses all of the kisses for Az always!

Frowning? Kisses all over his face until he’s giddy

Before bed kisses or he cannot sleep

Sometimes you’ll jokingly forget, just rolling over and saying goodnight sweetly. “AH” Az yells, “where is my goodnight kiss little miss?” You giggle, “Huh? What are you talking about?” Az pulls you on top of him and he kisses you hard, never letting up until you hold him back

Morning kisses and goodbye kisses before he leaves for training/work. “Bye Azzy, I love you.” You say pecking his lips quickly. Az isn’t fully satisfied with your little peck, pulling you by your waist flush to his front he kisses you deeply

You’re the own who’s supposed to flustering him! When he lets go your cheeks are pink and you’re out of breath, waving goodbye as he sends you a wink while leaving

Packing him lunch if he’s out all day even if it’s just at the house of wind

You add a note with his food telling him how much you love him

Az swears his teeth are going to fall out if you keep baking him treats. But he would be so sad if you ever stopped baking or packing him lunches with little notes he would cry his eyes out

You make sure all of his weapons are clean and organized

I know for a fact Azriel likes things clean and organized and if he had a label maker he would use the shit out of it

When he comes home from long missions you don’t let him lift a finger! That is unacceptable, he’s just spent days Mother knows where, in an uncomfortable spot and is disgusting

You always have a bath ready for him along with a towel that you warmed by the fire

You wash his hair and massage his neck and shoulders. He washes himself though, he doesn’t want you doing all of the work

Most nights you insist on him laying on top of you because you like holding him close and running your fingers through his silky hair

When he’s sick Azriel really plays it up just to get more attention from you

You make him soup and tea, you even spoon feed him while he lays in bed

“I think I’m warm will you feel my forehead?” Az knows full well he’s burning up from his small fever he just wants to feel your cool hand on his skin. You make sure to touch his forehead and cup his cheeks

You tuck him in making sure he’s all warm and snuggly

When he’s feeling better he still acts sick for an extra day because he isn’t ready to leave the comfort of your care just yet

#acotar #acotar fanfiction #acotar reader fic #acotar reader imagine #acotar imagine #azriel x reader #azriel acotar #azriel shadowsinger #azriel x you #azriel fluff #azriel fic #azriel imagine #azriel fanfic #acotar azriel #azriel #azriel headcanons #azriel headcanon

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wttcsms · 3 months

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saying let's get married;

domestic and sweet moments during the first year of newly-wed life (f!reader) <3

KUROO — "my wife" this and "my wife" that to the point where all his friends and coworkers are groaning and saying we get it, man! you're married now! his dorky nonfiction books taking up all the space on the nightstand. helping him tame his bed hair when he wakes up and is trying to get ready for work. created a powerpoint presentation where he told you he was going to give you the most epic promotion of a lifetime (the powerpoint was themed to mimic an HR presentation describing new employee benefits and perks, along with what the new position would consist of; the final slide asked "do you accept the position of being tetsurou kuroo's wife? limited time bonus offer includes a diamond ring!")

OSAMU — doesn't know how to fold your clothes properly (it's not weaponized incompetence, he just doesn't understand why your tops have these many strings and components to them). tries out all his new recipes with you as his taste-testing guinea pigs. during your wedding reception, atsumu asked you who was cuter: him or osamu. on your off days from your job, you go to onigiri miya and help him close down the shop. blowing bubbles at him from the soap that foams up when you're washing the dishes. him knowing where you're most ticklish and using it against you every time he asks you for a minor favor.

BOKUTO — asks you about kid names before he even pops the question. wants you to quiz him on your family tree because he so badly wants to impress them when he's meeting them (he then asks for a quiz on your extended family once the wedding date is scheduled). gets excited when he sees those corny tiktoks that claim "these initials are soulmates" and he sees yours and his initials paired together; he'll send you those tiktoks and go "babe, look!!! i told u we were meant to be!!" brings you up any time he can, whether it's in regular conversation with friends, small talk with a cashier, a meet n greet with a fan, or a post-game interview. loves to do push-ups with you on his back.

OIKAWA — makes a vision board at the beginning of the year, except the main image is a horribly photoshopped picture of your head pasted on some stock photo of a bride. he was showing you something on his phone, and the notification from his jeweler announcing that your engagement ring was ready for pick up popped up and he nearly dropped his phone while trying to hurriedly swipe away the notification whilst shielding his screen from you. gets all pouty and wants to be the little spoon; will also start asking you "baaaabe, would you still love me if i was a worm?" saw you in the stands booing his opposing team, and whistled, exclaiming "that's my girl!" panics when he sees strands of his hair on the bathroom floor; proceeds to ask you if you'll still be with him even if he becomes bald. then asks if you'll pay for his hair transplant (as a joke; you never use your card when you're with him).

#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x you #fluff #domestic fluff #domesticity being one of the purest forms of intimacy #tetsurou kuroo x reader #osamu miya x reader #koutarou bokuto x reader #bokuto x reader #tooru oikawa x reader #oikawa x reader #kuroo x reader #osamu x reader #hq headcanons #haikyuu headcanons

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kimberly-spirits13 · 8 months

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SFW Fluff Alphabet w/ Jason Todd

A= How affectionate are they

he's like a teddy bear and wants to cuddle all the time

he always wants a kiss or a hug and wants you to know how much he loves you

Jason's affection knows no bounds- he makes sure that you feel great and are doing perfect and that everything in life is alright

Cold? He's got a hoodie and a blanket. Sad? He's a leather shoulder to cry on. Happy? He's happy too

he likes to be touching at any moment

On patrol you're rubbing shoulders and he's as close to you as possible without straight up hugging you, he's got a hang on your back, hand on your thigh, he's got both hands holding your hands, you two link pinkies, his hand is in your hair, his hand is on your cheek, any form of touch

B= Bond- What do you bond over

Jay really, really likes reading so if you're into reading, he wants to talk about it a lot

if you're not a reader, well surprise, you are now

hearing him talk so highly of his books makes you want to read, just so you can talk to him more about them

He likes to work on his bike and clean his weapons so if you're down to help him, he'd be so excited

if you also have a tragic backstory, get ready to trauma dump with each other

he's got a deep respect for those who have lived through terrible tragedies and are still functioning members of society (even if it's partial functioning)

C= Cuddles- How do they cuddle

Cuddle monster

like it's cheesy but it's how you describe him

he also loves sleeping on top of you with his head buried in your neck or using your chest as a pillow and he's got his arms wrapped tightly around you

he likes to be the big spoon since he finds it uncomfortable for someone his sized to be cuddled lol

he's a giant so just let him tuck you into his chest and snooze away

he likes to cuddle in minimal clothing sometimes, not in a sexy way but in a he really likes having you close to him at all times

plus, he's a space heater so it's not like you're going to get cold

D= Domestic- What are they like domestically

he loves being domestic

you two have a nice medium sized apartment with a guest room or two and your bedroom and an office maybe with a big kitchen and living room and a washer and dryer room

He makes bank on that criminal mastermind gig

Plus, if you're working, it helps being dual income

He really likes cleaning around the house and you think it's a stress reliever for him

there are temporary dance breaks during cleaning and he likes to dip you down and kiss you to whatever song is playing- he secretly finds it adorable when you dance on his feet and he will not complain, but don't tell a soul deary

he really really really likes to cook too

Your place always smells like a master piece and Jason really likes going to William Sonoma

it's the fanciest place that he will willingly go to

E= Ego- How much do they think about themselves in a relationship

He's got boundaries like a normal human being, but the dude is really selfless

Jason just wants everything to be alright and he is able to make compromises where they need to be made

the one thing that he really, really cares about is making sure that his weapons, bike, helmet, and things are all in check

I wouldn't recommend going around and messing with anything unless you have to

Like he's not going to be mad at you, but Jason just prefers that that stuff gets left alone unless specifically told otherwise

F= Fights- How are they during and after fights

fights are few and in between but when they happen, they happen

it's not really ever over anything small because you can quickly just talk it out with Jason

if it's over something like a mission or safety or doing something reckless, it's a big fight

he doesn't yell, he hates yelling at you, but his eyes go dark and he's so angry

he's probably clenching his jaw and just has to take a minute to cool off at some points

"I'm not ignoring you, I just can't talk about this while I'm this angry about it."

and he'll go on a brisk walk to cool off

he comes back and sits down and talks about it less angry

Alfred once told him, "it's not you against Y/N, it's you and Y/N against the problem. Don't be upset with each other that you have differing views or wants, that's how humans work, we're all different. Anger only gets grown men into bat costumes Master Jason."

G= Growth- How does your relationship change them

Jason actually becomes more secure in himself

it's like you've taught him that he deserves to be loved, so it's easier for him to accept that he doesn't hate himself

he's more patient, more deliberate with the things that he does and says and because of this, he comes home from patrol less and less injured

H= Hugs-What are hugs like

big bear hugs

he likes to engulf you and make sure that you're not leaving for a little while

He likes all kinds of hugs because it means that he's close to you, but he prefers the ones that turn into cuddle sessions

he'll run his hands through your hair or scratch your back

sometimes when he's having a bad day, he just needs to burry his head in the crook of your neck and have you whisper that it's going to be alright

I= I love you- How fast did it take for them to say II love you

he doesn't say it too fast, but he also doesn't take forever to say it

It's maybe like a year or a bit less into dating and he has to leave for a mission

You were either not going to go because you're not a vigilante, or you needed to stay behind to make sure that some crime mob wasn't starting back up

He says "I love you" when he's about to leave

He doesn't want to leave you, but he knows he has to

He hugs you so tight when you say it back

it means the world to him that you care about him like that

it's a rib crushing soul and he thinks about it the entire mission

J= Jealousy- How jealous are they

I'd say he can be pretty jealous but also he's easily leveled off

if someone is taking your attention and he's not getting as much as usual, he inserts himself into conversations or situations like a Golden Retriever

he just kinds of sits there and stares at your or rubs circles on your hang until you give him attention

If it's someone flirting with you, he likes to make some sort of show out of it

If there's someone flirting with you at a gala (which happens a lot), he pulls you in for a dance and kissing you in the middle of the dance floor

You know what he's doing but you're not going to deny it are you

K= Kisses- How do they kiss/ where do they like to be kissed

He likes to be kissed everywhere

his shoulders, his abs, his collarbone, his neck, behind his ear, his cheek, the forehead, on the lips

you name it

he really prefers a real kiss though

that's his go to

L= Love language- What’s their love language

quality time and physical touch

he just wants you

Jason would melt into you at any moment if it meant he got to be close to you

He wants to spend time with you, even if you're not doing the same thing, and he wants his body touching yours somehow

M= Mornings- What are mornings with them like-

he's the kind of guy that sets an early alarm if he has to get up so that he can cuddle

mornings are basically always slow and warm and cozy

he likes to cuddle in the morning and have himself wrapped around you

sometimes before bed, he turns the AC colder so that when you wake up, you have to be close together to keep warm

if he wakes up before you, he'll either go back to sleep, or he plays with your hair until you wake up

N= Nicknames- What are their nicknames for you

doll

babe

love

darling

hottie

hot stuff

angel

love

O= On Patrol- What’s it like being on patrol with them

He likes to keep a close eye on you

You have to learn that it's not because he doesn't trust you, it's because he's always worried about the people he loves getting hurt or dying

he wants to make sure that at any moment something goes South, he's there to protect you

he flirts a lot on patrol

He also likes cracking jokes while he's busting skulls

it's one of the more morbid things he does

he likes to team up on patrol and always wants to know what you're doing and how you're doing

the two of you will often be seen near the bank building eating fast food perched on the ledge

he'll totally take you to his favorite gargoyle don't worry

P= PDA- What’s their stand on PDA

loves PDA, loves touching you

he's not gross about it like he's never making out with you in front of a crowd but he's always got an arm around you or a hand on your thigh

There are plenty of pap pictures of him with his arm wrapped around your shoulder while talking to you or glaring at something/ someone

if you're also famous for something, the paparazzi are always there but ten fold the intensity if you weren't famous

articles are always being written about Gotham's favorite couple

America's favorite couple if you're big enough

Q= Quirks- What are their quirks

he really likes to keep things really, really clean

usually your house is spotless because he's cleaning up after himself and you do the same

sometimes partners just get comfy and leave their crap everywhere

not Jason, he's clean as can be, not because he's uncomfortable around you, but because it's comforting for him to be in a non chaotic space

you know that he's stressed when he starts leaving things everywhere

R= Remember- Do they remember the details or the big picture

Jason remembers everything down to the final detail

there's like an always open compartment in his brain that filters and sorts the information about you and your relationship

he knows what you like and dislike, who you're beefing with at all times, what flavor candies are your favorite, what food you don't like, if there's a spice you don't like, he knows how you prefer your clothes and what color metal for jewelry you prefer, he knows how you like the recoil on your guns if you have any, he remembers the washing detergent that you use and the dryer sheet scent and brand

man knows everything

it's like that one kid that just knows random, niche information that no one expects them to know

he knows it allll

S= Security- How do you two feel around each other

he feels so safe and free around you

he just knows that if there is a problem, you'd be able to handle it

If there was a moment when he was taken out, he knows you'd protect him somehow

he gets all soft around you and he feels comfortable letting his guard down

You can trust that he's always there for you and that no matter what, he's going to be there for you

Jason is loving and attentive and wants to take care of you in any way possible

T= Taste- what do they prefer in a partner

he needs someone that can keep up with him

he's an intellectual, even if doesn't seem like it

he's an analytical person and needs someone that can have conversations with him and be on his level

Like you really don't have to be a straight A student because not all smart people are straight A students

I mean come on, Albert Einstein was reported to be a bad student and he's a genius

he also wants someone that puts some care into themselves

if you're running around without a care in the world, stepping into oncoming traffic because you don't care, it's going to stress him tf out

U= Understanding- How understanding of you are they

Jason is extremely understanding of life

I mean it's screwed him over a few times so he knows that it can get difficult

Jason also needs someone that is understanding of him

they understand why he maybe doesn't want to watch IT, or he sleeps a lot when he can, or he doesn't like loud noises and ticking sounds

Jason being understanding though doesn't mean that he's easy to use

Oh he understands alright

he understands that he hates the people that try and use him for gain

V= Value- What do they value most in a relationship

Jason values someone that will be just as enthusiastic about something as he is

He loves someone that wants to be around him and talk to him

he need someone that he can vent to without judgement

he needs someone that respects his personal boundaries (as any normal human is like)

he needs someone that can understand that even if sometimes he messes up, he's really, really trying to turn out better than he was told he would become

W= Work- Do they balance their work schedule well around your relationship

he's pretty good at balancing work around your relationship

it helps if you're a vigilante too

sometimes things comes up and he has to skip a date or comes home extra late and he really, really hates it and feels so bad about it

he's sure to call and text you all the time to make sure that you never get stood up somewhere or that you know what he's doing and what his intentions are

He never wants you to feel like you're being left behind or put on the back burner

X= Xtra- Extra headcannons

He's got good taste when it comes to interior design

he got an apartment where he did to make sure that it would always have sunlight during the day

I'd say he's a handy person too

I mean he worked with Bruce his entire life and does mechanics, he can't be that bad at fixing a bad pipe or general maintenance

Y= Yearning- How much do they miss you when you’re apart

Jason hates LOATHS being without you

if you're out of town for a mission or something, he doesn't sleep well and he struggles to chill out

he's always on edge wondering if there's something wrong that needs fixing

whenever you're reunited, he's all over you

the "never leaving you again" mentality

he's not obsessive but he really, really misses you when you're gone

like his other half or one of his lungs is missing

Z) Zeal- How dedicated or enthusiastic about the relationship are they

when he's serious about something, he's all in it

he loves being around you and making leaps in your relationship

he values your company and everything that you have to offer and he just thinks that you're the greatest thing to exist since indoor plumbing

there's no cheating, no longing looks at someone else, there's nothing that indicates anything going on between him and someone else

He's just there for you and that's it

he is yours and yours only and that's how he prefers it to be

#dc x reader #dc comics #dc characters #batfam x reader #batboys x reader #batfam #jason todd x reader fluff #jason todd x y/n #jason todd x you #jason todd x reader #jason todd imagine #jason todd fluff #red hood x you #red hood fluff #red hood imagine #red hood x reader #red hood

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red-viewe · 11 months

Text

general lilia x reader thoughts 🔫 (part two✌)

COLORED TEXT IS FAE LANGUAGE (tw: metions of bl99d, swearing)

Part 1 part 3

---

'Fuck my life.'

Here's the tea. You found a half-dead but sexy asf fae on your sidewalk and decided, 'Hey! Let's bring him in, warp him up and fall asleep!' Which was a stupid decision, because now, you're leaning against Mr. Hot Guy's head, pretending to be asleep, because right now, THE FAE GUY IS AWAKE AND HE MIGHT KILL YOU.

After about 5 minutes of awkward silence, this happened.

"I know you're awake."

He said, as he slowly started to get up from the couch. "W-wow, i didn't think you would notice..." God, get yourself together, dude.

"Where am I?" He says, turning to the very sweaty(?) you. God, this man is so hot.

"You're in my house...in the woods, a-and you shouldn't stand up right now, you're still injured.

" You abruptly stand and gently push him down back on to the couch.

"I'm Y/n L/n, by the way... " Mr. Fae still seemed to be om guard.

"Why did you save me? Don't you know about the war going on right now?" He asks in a stern tone (which was kind of hot...).

"Well, war is stupid when you can literally solve everything without death." You say as you walked away into the kitchen.

"...Is that so.." He mumbled.

---

It toke time for the fae to tell you his name, you respected that. You wouldn't tell a stranger your name either. (Expect you did, but we ignore that) Afte a while, he finally said to juat call him Liliy. Being shot in the stomach with an iron arrow, it toke Liliy time to be able to actually move, but it was progress.

Your days suddenly became more interesting, as you spent more time with him, learning more and more about him.

Like how he's insanely good at games, even when he doesn't try, or when he sometimes helps you prepare for the day before you open the bar.

---

"I'm not playing with you anymore." You cry in a joking tone as you lose yet again another game of chess.

"Pft, if you'd like, perhaps you'd desire an easier game? May i suggest rock paper sissors?" Liliy says with mischievous smirk on his face.

"Oh, screw you."

'Is this man trying to poison me?' Was the first thought you had when you opened the lunch Liliy attempted to make for you.

"It can't be that bad..." You say out loud, slightly gagging when you scooped up some of the meal(?) onto your spoon.

---

And...sweet moments, which made your heart beat a little faster and your cheeks warm up.

---

"Sleeping late, beastie?" Liliy said, as he toke some of your hair into his hands and started combing playing with it, making you blush when you felt his breath a little too close.

"Mhm, I'm doing some stinky taxes before i go to bed." You said, writing down information. After a while of liliy playing with your hair, you started to feel drowsy and fell asleep, waking up the next day on your bed, with a half asleep liliy next to you, staring at you with half closed eye lids and a blush on his face.

'How are you so freaking fine?'

---

You honestly did not know when you and the fae started getting so comfortable with each other, but are grateful for your friendship with Liliy.

---

The some of the buildings were set ablaze, others half torn apart, and human bounty hunters were tearing the town apart looking for Lilia Vanrouge. Rumours of the infamous general seeking refuge with someone spread far and wide, wide enough to reach the ears of the royal family. The bounty on his head was more than 9 million thaumarks, and bounty hunters were eager to find the fae.

'Fuck, fuck fuck fuck fuck' You screamed on your mind as you swiftly ran back to your home in the woods, running from the danger.

"LIliy!" You burst into your home, praying that your fae would still be there.

"Y/n." Liliy was dressed in the armour you found him in, with his gargoyle mask on this head, carrying his weapon. "I have something to tell you, beastie."

"That you're Lilia Vanrouge, I know." You're not stupid. You saw the bounty posters. Bro.

"Are you leaving..?" You silently said, eyes meeting his.

Lilia stepped closer, his voice now low and soft.

"I have to. If I don't I- You- my queen needs me, and it's too dangerous for me t-" You hug him, eyes watering. Lilia's arms gently embrace you, and he kisses your forehead. "I swear I'll be back, my love"

Tears fall down your face, as he slowly releases you and leaves, turning back for one last glance of you.

'Please come back'

Authors note

This one was a bit sad😭 maybe if i finish part 3 i can make some side stories with crack and stuff 😭🙏Would you like that ?🤔

(Also just comment if you want to be tagged if theres a next one)

(Tag list: @anonima-2)

#twisted wonderland #twst x you #twisted wonderland lilia #lilia vanrouge x reader #lilia vanrouge #lilia x you #lilia vanrouge x reader smut #lilia vanrouge x mc #lilia vanrouge x you #red-viewe

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beskarandblasters · 7 months

Text

Uncut

Inexperienced!Din Djarin x GN!Reader

Main Masterlist | Din Djarin Masterlist

Author’s note: This is inspired by this beautiful art by @immarocketman!! My friend @theywhowriteandknowthings also wrote a drabble based on this art piece as well! Banners and dividers are by @saradika 🤍

Summary: You give Din his first blowjob and he’s insecure about a little secret he’s been keeping.

Word count: 950

Warnings: no physical description used for Reader (but they are able-bodied), porn with little plot, uncircumcised!Din, shy!Din, oral sex (M receiving), body worship, pet names (baby for Din, cyar’ika for you), cum eating, no use of y/n

You’re lying in the small cot of the Razor Crest pressed up against Din. He’s opted to be the little spoon tonight, one of your arms slung around his waist. He’s wearing his full armor, cape and all (but minus his weapons), and it has you thinking… How is he comfortable under all that? Not to mention it’s a warm night tonight.

“Baby?”

“Hm?” he hums in response.

“Aren’t you hot under there?”

“…A little.”

“We could sleep naked tonight.”

He’s silent for a moment as if he’s pondering his decision.

“Only if you’re comfortable,” you add.

“Okay,” he says with a shaky breath.

“You can take your helmet off, too. We’ve pretty much decided to take on a riduurok the next time we’re with the covert,” you say softly.

He nods and you remove your arm from his waist so he can get undressed. You’ve seen him helmetless only a handful of times since deciding to be his riduur. He rises from the cot and takes off his helmet, a worried look painting his face. Poor thing.

You sit up at the edge of the cot and watch him with concerned eyes. You’ve only been intimate with Din a few times, usually in the dark with all of his armor on. This is new territory for both of you. But there’s no doubt in your mind he’s beautiful.

He takes off his gloves and starts removing his armor piece by piece. Once he’s down to just his flight suit and his boots he stops, however.

“What is it, baby?”

“I have to tell you something.”

“Anything,” you reassure him, grabbing his hands.

“I’m… I’m uncut.”

“Okay.”

“That doesn’t bother you?”

“Why would it?”

“Well, I-”

“Has someone been… rude about it in the past?”

“Well, no. No one’s ever been… down there before.”

“You’ve never had your cock sucked before?”

“…No.”

“Undress and switch places with me.”

“Cyar’ika, you don’t have to.”

“I want to,” you reassure him.

He nods, unzips his flight suit, and kicks off his boots, all with the same uneasy look on his face. You stand so he can sit at the edge of the cot, sitting with a side stance and his thighs spread apart. This is the first time you’ve seen his cock in the light and it’s beautiful just like you thought it would be. It makes sense a Mandalorian would be uncut. What made him so nervous about telling you that?

You sink to the floor and rest on your knees, kissing along his groin, practically everywhere but his cock. Goosebumps prick his skin in the wake of your lips, followed by a shiver up his spine. His cock is growing harder as you work your way across his groin, the pre-cum gathering at the head of his cock.

One hand cups his balls while the other wraps around the base of his cock. You look at him and his eyes are fixed on you, still wearing the nervous expression on his face. How cute.

“Relax, baby,” you tell him, right before you slip your tongue in between his foreskin and the head of his cock. He grows even wetter and slicker when you do that, letting out a muffled Mando’a curse word as you swirl your tongue around slowly. His hands caress each side of your face, but so lightly as if he’s hesitant and wondering if that’s okay to do. You move the hand cupping his balls and rest it atop his hand, stroking his skin with your thumb to let him know it’s okay, all while maintaining eye contact.

He nods and closes his eyes as you pick up the pace, returning your hand back to his balls and cupping them lightly. Your tongue circles his head faster and faster until you finally take his length in your mouth, moving your head up and down. You feel his foreskin following the motions of your head inside your mouth against your tongue and cheeks. The feeling is too good. He lets out a mangled moan and he’s back to looking at you again, looking like an angel underneath him as you suck his cock. Soon enough, his entire cock and your hand are completely soaked in a mixture of your saliva and his pre-cum. The motions are smooth and you’re moving effortlessly, mouth and hand sliding up and down on his cock, bringing him closer to the edge. His balls tense up in your hand and his cock twitches against your tongue. He’s going to cum soon.

“Cyar’ika, I’m going to-”

You let out a long hum, letting him know it’s okay to cum and sending a vibration up his shaft. The floodgates open and his grip on your head tightens as he cums. His head is thrown back in pleasure, letting out a long string of moans and whimpers as he cuts down your throat. You swallow all of it, feeling proud that you gave him his first blowjob and made him feel this good.

Once you’ve swallowed all of his release you take him out of your mouth and rest back on your heels. He catches his breath and looks down at you, your saliva and his cum dripping down your chin.

“Kriff, I’m sorry,” he apologizes.

“You’re sorry?!” you say, rising from the floor and sitting beside him.

You kiss him, hard and passionate before pulling back and saying, “You should’ve let me do that a long time ago.”

“You mean that?”

“Of course, baby.”

His face contorts into a small, bashful smirk. You pull him into you, kissing his temple and whispering, “You’re beautiful.”

He melts into your touch. He normally doesn’t feel that way about himself but tonight, he believes you.

Follow @beskarandblastersfics and turn on post notifications to be notified when I post a new fic!

#din djarin #din djarin x reader #din djarin x gn!reader #din djarin x you #din djarin smut #star wars fanfiction #starwarsficnetwork #star wars smut #pedro pascal character fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #pedrostories #din djarin fanfiction

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snuggleboots · 5 months

Text

₊˚♡˚₊ The Akatsuki, communicating their love ₊˚♡˚₊

₊˚♡˚₊ feat. Itachi, Kisame, Kakuzu, and Hidan ₊˚♡˚₊

Tags: Fluff, mishmash of random headcanons, general cutesy relationship stuff.

♡ Kisame communicates his love in various ways, but it's always most sincere in the little things he does. If you're both walking up a flight of stairs, he'll always walk behind, just so he can steal a kiss without having to lean down a bit to reach you. Usually, he'll follow that up with a stupid little, 'How's it feel to be the tall one for once?'

♡ He's a man who likes to sleep in, but when you're sleeping with him, it's his god-given duty to wake you up with some combination of stupid, sleepy shenanigans. It typically starts with some needlessly aggressive cuddling while he's waking up, which becomes a smattering of kisses and little nips dealt wherever he can reach, and eventually develops into... either cackling over your groggy irritation or moving into a little extra lovin', if you feel up to it.

♡ Cuteness aggression is a real thing, and it's his curse. If your tongue pokes out just a little bit when you're thinking hard or focused on something, if you flex your toes like a little cat when you stretch, or purse your lips when you're frustrated - he's gonna bite you. Always does. He can't help it, he gets the impulse to squish you, bite you, pinch, or bully you a little bit when you're minding your business, doing things that he finds objectively precious. You make his teeth itch when he catches you off guard, and you flash him those big eyes, and- UGH.

♡ Now, he isn't the perfect listener by any means, but Kisame is very attentive when tiffs happen in the relationship. He listens with the full intention to learn and solve the problem, and if things get a bit heated he'll calm himself down and ask you to back up and explain why you're upset. He doesn't make a habit of taking himself too seriously, which really helps him navigate rough patches well.

♡ Your personal space is his preferred space. You're stretched out, reading a book or resting your eyes? It doesn't matter where you're hanging out, that's still just as good as an invitation in his books. When he saunters on over and nonchalantly plonks his entire body weight on top of you, he doesn't even have the courtesy to say sorry for the disturbance. Nope, he's on a mission, hooking his arms around your waist and just burying his face in your belly. You're warm, you smell so nice, and he's livin' large on cloud nine, which means you're stuck there until he's decided he's had his fill for a bit.

♡ Itachi's a man with simple wants and simple displays of love. If your days are busy and he's tucking into bed before you are, he'll cosy up on your side to keep it warm until you're ready to join him for the night. It's a little silly, a little cute, watching a man like him streeeetch right out when you meander into the bedroom, and unceremoniously shimmy back over to his side before settling in and promptly passing out. That is, however, a quiet little token of his affection.

♡ He's perceptive about things you don't enjoy doing, and especially things you tend to stress about. Without so much as mentioning it, he'll tend to the little things like that just to take them off your plate. If you're sick or in pain, Itachi is more than content to take care of you. Sorry, it's a small facet of who he is, to tend to the very few people he cares about. The man also cooks, and pretty damned well at that. His breakfasts are a cure-all when you're feeling like absolute garbage.

♡ There is such a thing as an 'Uchiha pout', and he weaponizes it for petty reasons and to ridiculous extents. He isn't always just some stone-faced caricature of a stoic, and it's brilliantly displayed when you deny his simple requests, such as relaxing after a long day, curled up on the couch with him when he's having a low-energy, no spoons left kind of day.

♡ Yes, he wants to settle his weight into your side and just be - or better yet, rest his head on your shoulder and soak up some easy, effortless affection until he's feeling a bit better. (Please card your fingers through his hair, he won't nod off again, really-) If you really have the audacity to say no - and he will call it that - you're going to see him purse his lips, pinch his brows and angle his face away from you like some kind of disappointed housecat. 'You make me lonely', he'll halfheartedly mumble, because it's a guilt trip that works and he's fully aware of that fact. No, he does not feel bad about it, either.

♡ Kakuzu's 'love language' exists in subtle acts of service and physical touch, generally shared in private. No, he's not going to say he loves you, but he can show you that your presence doesn't irritate the part of his brain that makes him want to shove his fist through someone's skull.

♡ When the seasons turn and you inevitably wind up freezing cold every goddamn night, he's content to settle beside you on the couch and tuck your chilly feet under his leg while he unwinds with a good book. There's no need to fill the silence, just let it be and enjoy the moment. You're cosy, he's relatively happy, and for all intents and purposes, you two are set to have a wonderful, quiet night.

♡ And since Kakuzu's a habitual early riser, you're typically still snoring long after he's up and ready for the day. When it's time for him to get up and get dressed, he'll flop his blanket - because he sure as hell doesn't share one - over your head before he turns on the light to get dressed. When he's done and the light's out he'll pull it down and be on his way without having disturbed your sleep.

♡ On the odd time that you're waking up with him, he'll slip by while you're getting dressed and steal a kiss to your shoulder.

♡ When his nail polish is chipped and it's time to reapply, he'll let you do it. For one, it's less for him to do, but! It's also a little token of trust on his part to toss you the polish, plop his hand in your lap, and grumble something like, 'Don't paint my damn fingers this time'. You probably still manage to flood his cuticles, which he will grumble about, but it's the thought that counts.

♡ Hidan's love can sometimes be compared to that of a fat, obnoxious housecat. If he's off-duty when you're trying to enjoy some free time, he is firmly wedged up your ass because he likes attention and you actually listen to him when he talks about... whatever's bouncing around in his head.

♡ Lounging on the couch when he's just coming in from a month on the road? Haha, sucks to be you actually, because he's instantly ripping through the living room at terminal velocity, with full intentions of divebombing your sorry ass before you have the chance to scramble up and evade him. You're still wheezing from impact, and this guy's already launching into a tirade about every little gripe he's had about his mission. 'Kakuzu was a dick, the ration bars taste like shit, the coil broke on my scythe and, and, and...'

♡ Hidan loves a good late-night hangout, so he's usually around to burn time with you when you can't sleep. Even when you don't feel like talking, he always fills the silence himself by chatting your ear off about whatever comes to mind. Sometimes it's just life stuff, other times it's his interests - and often, he'll animorph into a used cars salesman for Jashinism. You expect it, he loves that you actually listen and engage with him.

♡ 'You only get to die if you lived, no matter how great or shitty your life was, get it? Seeing the end is a privilege', he'll mutter into the lip of a half-full mug. When you're tired at the table, jolting upright after accidentally dozing off for the fifth time during his proselytizing, Hidan will slide you a cup of something that'll keep you fucking wired for the night. It's not to be a dick, obviously, but you're listening! And this is important shit! 'Diseased, crippled, or fuckin'... broke; at the end of the day, you're alive, and your pain's recognised by Lord Jashin. Suffering is a gift imparted, that only the living receive, and...' something something Jashin is great, and you should probably definitely convert.

♡ He's claimed half of your bed, and sleeping with him fucking sucks. He sleeps like a starfish and steals the blankets, and you're not waking him up unless you feel like investing some serious effort into doing so. He snores, and on the nights that he winds up sleeping half on top of you, you have to deal with the fact that he drools like a dog and sleeps with his mouth hanging open. You don't wanna deal with that? Tough shit, you're comfy, and somehow your bed is just waaaaay better than his. Okay? Okay.

#akatsuki #naruto #kakuzu #hidan #itachi #kisame #writing tag #hcs #reader insert #akatsuki x reader #kakuzu x reader #hidan x reader #itachi x reader #kisame x reader #meant to do the rest but my brain refused to write the others #they'll get their own post at some point probs

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writingoddess1125 · 7 months

Note

hiii, could you do a Sanji x reader in which the reader has an eating disorder and Sanji's food is the only one that the reader eats and when Sanji discovers this he tries to take more care of the reader's diet?

(I love your writing, it's so good)

So this does hit very close to home for me and it both made me feel good and cry while writing this.

I did twist this a bit as well, but I hope it's still okay!

I also made this GN since this can happen to Anyone.

Warmth

⚠️Warning: ⚠️ Mention of ED, issues with food and body issues.

Please support me in Ko-Fi

"It's called Shio Ramen, it's a lighter form of ramen made with a much gentler broth. It's not as heavy as normal ramen and doesn't have as much oil" He said calmly, watching your eyes look over it.

You should have realized he had been watching you- from the very beginning you should have known that the Nosey Chef would catch onto you sooner rather then later.

You had always loved food, but you felt like it just.. didn't love you in return. Especially when it was used as a weapon by your loved ones.

From people pushing that 'You're just picky' or 'Just wanting to look a certain way' since you were young at your... aversions. It all starting with your family and the lack of control you felt over your life... it had been a way to control something- even if it was as small as food and how you wanted to look physically.

You had been on the brink of self destruction when the Strawhats arrived on your island home, of course their swirling of chaos following them-

Needing a Barber for their crew, so you jumped at the opportunity to join them; running away from the shackles of your home and the onces youd once called your family to new adventure and freedom.

However some shackles still remained..

It had some weeks, close to a month on board the Strawhat Ship before you even ate Sanji's food, passing your plate to Liffy who would eat it up or not showing up to meals at all-.

If you did he'd often making you bowls which you would take single spoonfuls of before not taking more- eating only when you were sure no one was around and what you had been used to, if you decided at all.

But as time passed, you did gradually eat more of his cooking- trusting him more as you wouldn't skin meal times or take single bites anymore, while it tasted good- you always felt that anxiety rise up eventually..

You should have known he would have seen this all.. noticed your actions and ways. Planning his next move-

Which took place on a sleepy late afternoon.

Sitting in your quarters you were trying to read a book Nami had let you borrow, but your mind just kept drifting off in a daze as you watched the sea pass you by- as well as the memories of the past invading and poking your mind.

A soft knock snapping you from your whirlpool of thoughts as you look up to see Sanji, calmly staring at you. His coat off and only in a button-down, his nice pants and freshly polished shoes a unlit cigarette placed perfectly on his lip as he smiled softly at you.

"Hey (Y/N)- follow me for a sec?" He asked, you of course nodding as you rose and followed behind your peer down the corner- being lead right to the kitchens.

Anxiety hitting your chest then as he motioned for you to seat on one of the island benches in the kitchen.

Sitting down you nervously look at the chef as he calmly walked around to the stoves on the otherside of the island countertop.

You assuming he was going to scold you for not eating or put you on blast...

"How do you like it on the ship so far?" He asked innocently as he began to grab a pot. There ge had you watch him as he cooked- You watched the ingredients he picked, how he washed his hands with every step asking what things were to your taste which he cleverly hid in casualy conversation...

It was actually fun to watch, the care and time he put into cooking and talking to you- Truthfully it had actually started to look delicious and smell good as well as you watched him pour a light broth over Fluffy noodles you'd watch him make by hand.

Not a word had to be said after that, Instead he sat next to you calmly with his own bowl and began to silently eat. Tears welling in your eyes as you grabbed the spoon and took a sip of the hot broth- Warmth filling your stomach and chest- finally that cold anxiety started to ease away as the soft flavors of the warm Shio Ramen filled your senses.. like a blanket beging placed over your shoulders... it was just what you needed... what you'd always needed.

"You want to try some?" He asked, getting a hesitant nod from you. He smiled softly, setting the already prepared bowl infront of you before making his own.

Sanji glanced at you and held out his handkerchief to you, At first confused before realizing salty tears were rolling down your cheeks. Accepting the gift you cleaned up your face and set back into eating, smiling softly to yourself as you did so.

It finally felt like... someone cared- And what more could you ask for?

Maybe a second helping?..

#x reader #one peice x reader #one piece #one peice live action #op sanji #sanji x reader #one piece sanji #black leg sanji #sanji

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zepskies · 8 months

Note

Hello! I was wondering... kinda cringy but can I request comparing hand sizes with Soldier boy headcanons

Hey love!! ❤️

Aw, it's not cringey. That's actually really cute! Let me see what I can do for you...

Pairing: Soldier Boy x Female Reader Word Count: 500 Tags/Warnings: 18+ only on this one, folks! For some smutty musings on those talented fingers.

Headcanon: The way you love Ben's hands.

You love playing with his hair, slipping your fingers through the soft strands.

But you also love his hands.

Despite the pampered lifestyle he led growing up, Ben is a very tactile person. He likes working with his hands.

You like to catch him when he's cleaning his weapons. He takes them apart and puts them back together expertly. His smooth hands and long fingers glide as they polish metal with a small rag.

You like to watch him try and fail to cook, ultimately burning the eggs. You like the way his hands move quick yet awkward with the wooden spoon scraping across the pan.

(He burns the bacon too. "It's better that way, extra fucking crispy," he grumbles, when you tease him.)

You like the strength in his hands, tempered just for you.

When his fingers brush across your cheek. When they graze your arm absently while something plays on TV. When he comes up behind you and rests a heavy hand at the small of your back. Or when they grip your hips and thighs and ass hard enough to bruise.

When those talented fingers tease you, slipping between your legs and finding the source of your pleasure with ease.

Long fingers slowly dipping inside your wet heat, exploring your inner walls with the practiced patience of a man fully familiar with every part of you.

They know where and how and when to twist and curl, making you utter broken gasps of his name and shudder from deep within.

And Ben gets something he loves: the sound of your voice as you come hard on his fingers, and make it known in his ear...

But sometimes, it's just as simple as laying with him in bed, afterwards, holding one of his hands in yours.

Your fingers trace over each and every one of his, noting the differences of his larger hand in your smaller one. You compare them in your mind: both different versions of smooth, his masculine to your slender. His blunt nails to your longer ones.

One night, you even line up your hand against his, like Tarzan and Jane.

His brows furrow. "The hell're you doing?"

A smile tugs at your lips. "Nothing. You've just got huge hands."

He snorts. "I have a man's hands."

You roll your eyes. Right. But your smile deepens when you bring the back of his hand to your lips. You turn it over and press a sweet kiss into his palm, closing your eyes.

Ben tolerates it.

Or so he'd have you believe.

Really, he just watches you as a tendril of warmth plumes in his chest. His lips hint at a smile.

There are wordless moments when he knows you love him.

He'll probably never tell you out right, but times like these are some of the ones he likes most with you.

They stay in his memory long afterwards. And when the darker ones threaten to cloud his day, he pulls these moments out like old photographs, imprinted on his mind.

AN: Hehe, hope you guys like this one! ❤️

Just so you know, there's a longer SB imagine coming soon (either this coming week or next), and it is ✨Angsty.✨ 😅

I'll probably release an interesting one next. Though the request was a bit niche, I really got into it! So I'm hoping you all will enjoy. It includes reactions from Dean Winchester, Beau Arlen, and Soldier Boy (Ben)...

Soldier Boy Masterlist

Main Masterlist

SB Tag List:

@melancholictearz @katherineann83 @sleepyqueerenergy @wayward-lost-and-never-found @thewritersaddictions @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @deanwanddamons @antisocialcorrupt @adoringanakin @theonlymaninthesky @teehxk @midnightmadwoman

@iprobablyshipit91 @agalliasi @venicesem @deans-spinster-witch @chriszgirl92 @lyarr24 @ladysparkles78 @solariklees @xsophianicolex @deansbbyx @mimaria420 @candy-coated-misery0731 @curlycarley @sarahgracej @bagpussjocken @ultrahviolentart @skyesthebomb @this-is-me19 @kazsrm67 @letheatheodore

@agothwithheavysetmakeup @jacklesbrainworms @foxyjwls007 @wincastifer @emily-winchester @tearsfortheyouth @solo-pitstop-vibes @dope-trope-105 @liuope @beautyvaliant @xxlaynaxx @chernayawidow @beskarfilms @tmb510 @iamsapphine @vanillawhiskeyflavoredkisses @roseblue373 @lacilou

#ask me stuff #soldier boy #the way you love his hands #comparing hand sizes #soldier boy headcanon #smuttish #fluff #Soldier Boy imagine #soft!Ben #the boys #soldier boy/ben #soldier boy x reader #soldier boy x female reader #soldier boy x you #zepskies answers

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melehound · 10 months

Text

141 + König on your period!

Tw: blood, average period pains

Kyle “gaz” Garrick

The kind of guy to some SERIOUS research on periods and he’s very proud that he knows more than the average man about female anatomy definitely something he would brag about if he got the chance (Also educates his friends on it even if they don’t have girlfriends)

After doing extensive research on your cycle he feels prepared and asks you LOTS of questions “how heavy is your flow?” “What kind of tampons/pads do you use? Is there a brand you like the most?” “what do you crave?”

Definitely is the most educated of all the men (price is a close second)

Always is able to dodge your mood swings even if your pissed he is an expert at calming you down without even realizing it and he doesn’t get angry or frustrated often he’s notorious for being level headed and calm even in high tense situations

He tries to be attentive to you as much as he can and depending how long you two have been together he would slowly learn and memorize the things that make you feel better on your period

Simon “ghost” Riley

He had the common base knowledge of periods (blood, mood swings, cramping, etc)

But after having a few girlfriends he realized it was much more complicated than that. He realized that women can have lots of different symptoms on their period and having a heavy flow vs a light flow

He tries to support you emotionally and physically on your period he basically melts into you every time he sees you laying in bed. He crawls over to you and spoons you so he doesn’t disturb your comfortable position he so huge he basically incases you while you two are together

He loves when you lean on him to help you a bit, he has the house cleaned, the fridge full so can lay in bed all day and worry about nothing it makes him happy that you can depend on him

John price

Price has had his fare share of girlfriends in his life he is familiar with a woman’s monthly cycle and he treats it very casual

He’s your living heating pad, he’s so unbelievably warm. He just wants to hold you all day. He just loves taking care of you :,(

He is the most attentive man istg. When your emotional he gets emotional too, when you cry his eyes start to sting you bring out the crybaby in this full grown man so mood swings are the worst part for him.

But he tries to keep it together for you he cooks for you tries to ease your pain with ibuprofen and hot tea.

John “soap” mactavish

The most clueless out of all of them like he knows what a period is he isn’t completely clueless but he isn’t as educated as some of the other guys on the list

He’s just a little stupid when it comes to women he tries his hardest but he can’t help it

You have to remind him you can’t have sex on your period multiple times because he keeps forgetting

But after a few months he starts to track it on his phone so he can remind himself he definitely has all your period needs in his notes app

So when your talking to him about something you like he immediately gets out his phone and starts putting it in his notes

Definitely tries to baby you on your period but when he realized it pissed you off he stopped

König

He learn about periods at a young age (he was raised by a single mom idc) so he has a grasp fully on how painful and awful they are

He calls his mom and asks her how he can help you the most and after receiving some advice he goes to the store and gets you the main staples, tampons, pads, chocolate, heating pad, and ibuprofen.

He loves being close to you no matter what time of the month it is, if your watching a show so is he, if your taking a shower so is he, if your in the bathroom so is he, if your sleeping so is he. He doesn’t like leaving your side at all especially when your in pain

His mom taught him over the phone how to give proper back rubs (god bless his momma) that’s his secret weapon every time your angry at him and all else fails “liebling, would you like a massage..?”

((✿: If you don’t include Gaz in your 141 head cannons I will come for you 🌚 not proofread I wrote this two weeks ago))

#141 headcanons #könig x reader #john price #simon ghost riley x reader #cod x reader #johnny soap mctavish x reader #kyle gaz garrick

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faeriichaii · 4 months

Note

Hi!! Can you write something fluffy between Legolas and a female human reader? Even though Legolas has been around for a while, he is always watching the reader because he wants to learn about her little quirks and customs. The reader is always like “uhhh Aragorn why is he just staring” but Legolas reveals that it’s cause he finds her cute and wants to get to know her more while they’re together on the fellowship :)

Little Quirks ~ Legolas x Fem!Human!Reader

A/N: Ahh I missed writing for Legolas haha!! At this point he is like a major part of my life lmao <33 Ngl this took me longer than normal? Maybe I got a little rusty during my little time off haha rip but yeah here you go I hope you like it!!

⇢ ˗ˏˋ Warnings: fluff ࿐ྂ ⇢ ˗ˏˋ Words: 1.3k ࿐ྂ ⇢ ˗ˏˋ Request: Yes (thank you <33) ࿐ྂ ⇢ ˗ˏˋ Meleth Nin ~ My Love ࿐ྂ

Summary: The elven prince for some reason couldn't stop staring at you, which in return made you confused and very curious, as to why his eyes were constantly following you around.

Legolas tilted his head to the side, smile gracing his lips, as his eyes focused on the way you polished your weapons to perfection. The dagger in your hand reflecting the bright fire in front of you, while you rubbed a cloth against the handle. A few gems were embedded into the metal, giving it some colour. You can’t quite remember when you got the dagger, but you knew you would be incredibly upset if you ever lost it. Holding it out in front of you, you inspected it for any kind of grime or dirt that still could be there. While doing so you notice that the elven prince has been staring at you for quite a while. He always seems to be staring at you, no matter what you were doing. It not just confused you, but also made you feel unsettled to some extent. “I hope you don’t mind me taking up the space beside you.” Aragorn said, as he made himself comfortable on the log beside you. His sword was on his lap, as he began to clean it off of the dried blood from the battle of a few hours ago.

“Of course not.” You placed your polished dagger into the leather holster that was secured on your thigh, before grabbing your own sword to take care of it as well. Taking a quick glance towards Legolas, you notice that his attention was now on Gimli, who seems to be mentioning one of his stories to him. “You know the elven prince well, right Aragorn?” You asked him, while running the cloth against the metal. “I wouldn’t say that I know him well, but I do know him longer than most of the fellowship do.” He sat his sword aside, before turning towards you. “What is on your mind?” “Well, I have noticed that he always seems to be watching me, no matter what I do. Like for example last week.”

Standing in front of the pot, you stirred it with the wooden spoon before adding a few more leaves. Normally Sam would be the one in your place, however you insisted to take his place for the night and make everyone one of your favourite dishes. You added in the few chopped vegetables you had prepared earlier. Noticing a certain gaze on your figure, you looked up from the dinner you were making. Legolas smiled softly at you, before lowering his gaze from you. You didn’t think much about it, until you took another glance into his direction and caught him again.

“Is everything alright Legolas?” “Yes, of course.” He said, his eyes never leaving you once. After a bit of more stirring, you poured a little of the stew into the bowls, before handing them out. Walking over to Legolas, you sat beside him before giving him his own food. “I really liked the song you hummed.” You tilted your head to the side at his statement, not really understanding what he meant. He noticed your puzzled expression, smiling gently at you. “You were humming while you prepared the dinner.” “Oh- I did not notice.” A soft embarrassed blush dusted your cheeks. “I hope it did not disturb you in any way. I normally hum only at home but I guess I was so much at ease that it just happened.” “Like I said (Y/N), I really enjoyed it. Maybe you could teach me the song sometime.”

“That does sound completely normal to me. He just enjoyed the melody.” You huffed at Aragorns statement. You knew that this sounded like it was nothing special. But it was not the only time you caught him staring a little longer.

You were standing in front of one of the many stalls of a small town. The fellowship decided to take a quick tour through the closest town, in order to stack up on some essentials needed for your travels. Of course, you tried to focus only on things you really needed for the journey, however the shiny jewels from the table beside the one you were currently browsing through caught your attention. “Welcome young lady, what can I do for you today?” You gazed upon the silver and golden necklaces that were laid out in front of you. “How much would that be?” You asked the merchant, holding up a golden bracelet, that had a little heart charm attached to it. “Around 30 coins.” You bit your lip in thought at his answer, only having so many coins in your little pouch. “I will be thinking about the offer, thank you.” Putting the bracelet back onto the table, you made your way towards another one. This one sold various items like books, as well as scrolls, bags, pouches, brooches and other little trinkets. Taking a beautiful hand mirror into your hand, you looked at your reflection. You noticed a familiar elven prince in the background, who seems to be looking into your direction. Tilting your head, you stared back at him through the reflection.

After a while of staring back at him, you put the mirror back onto the table and decided to approach him. As soon as he noticed you, a smile graced his lips. “Have you already gotten everything you needed?” He asked you, as you stood beside him. “Well, not really. But I have been wondering something else.” You tilted your head to the side as you mustered him. A smile was still present on his lips, as he mirrored your movement. “Why have you been staring at me again?” “Have I?” “Yes!” At this point you believe he was mocking you. You caught him through the mirror and he still tries to deny it. “I think you are mistaken.” He said, giving your shoulder a soft pat before joining Aragorn at one of the stalls.

“And what if you really were mistaken?” “I was not! Aragorn, I know that he has been staring at me not just those two times! He stares at me while I eat, while I talk, while I polish my gear, I wouldn’t be surprised if he was staring at me now.” The both of you turned towards the elven prince, who in fact was looking at you once more. “See? I would just want to know why he does it.” Aragorn let out a lough at your desperate sigh. “I am pretty sure that you will get your answer very soon.” And with that he stood up and left you alone.

After finishing up polishing your weapons, you decided to approach the elven prince once more to try and get answers to your questions. “Hey Legolas, can we maybe talk?” You asked him, while taking a seat beside him. “Of course, what is on your mind?” “I have noticed you were staring quite a lot at me. Is there a reason behind it?” A chuckle left his lips, as he grabbed your hand gently. Warmth spread over your cheeks at the soft touch. “I really enjoy watching you (Y/N). Not in an unsettling way! I just love to see you react to specific things. Or how your eyes shine when you find something you like at one of the stalls. Or how you just sometimes have that little jump in your step when you are really excited.”

Your face was red, as you nodded to each of the words that passed his lips. “I think your quirks are so interesting and so cute. You always catch me off guard.” A smile graced your lips, as you squeezed his hand. You didn’t know he felt so drawn towards you. “For example, right now. Your eyes are shining brighter than the stars above.” His finger graced your warm cheek, as he brushed a strand of your hair behind your ear. “I want to get to know you more and understand you better with every passing day.” “I will only allow it, if you let me study you as well.” You answered boldly, earning you a laugh from Legolas. “Of course, Meleth Nin. Anything that your heart desires.”

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halcyone-of-the-sea · 8 months

Text

MY THREE DEAD, LITTLE DOVES (IV)

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

PAIRING: Nikto x F!Reader (Soulmate AU)

WORDCOUNT: 10.1k

WARNINGS: Angst, mentions of stalking & stalking behavior, talks of death, weapons, suggestive thoughts/comments, mentions of sex & intimacy, toxic modeling standards, use of a derogatory word for women, food issues, dead animals, blood, gore, etc. (Series 18+)

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

Nikto is first to wake up, and you find him assembling the blacked form of a gun on your island counter while your wide eyes try to push back the curtain of sleep. It’s not even five A.M yet.

“Your pantry is empty.” He speaks and you blink quickly, staring at his back as the blanket over your shoulders staves off the chill of the penthouse. “No food.”

“Well…” Your voice is raspy from the whimpering you’d done, nightmares waking you up half an hour before you had to be ready to go to work. “I don’t eat a lot. Did you try the fridge? I have yogurt.”

You clear your throat and wonder about the tea you’d left him, finding the cup back where you’d grabbed it the night before; cleaned and dried. Even in your sluggishness, a sheen of smug satisfaction looms above your head, though you had no proof that he’d drunk the tea or just was prompted by his cleanliness to dump it out.

Nikto’s covered face shifts to look over his shoulder, those piercing eyes digging through you. They slash you up and down as his fingers continue to move, moving parts and clicking metal together with ingrained perfection. You watch with hidden impressiveness.

“More.”

You scoff, rolling your eyes. “Alright, then. Are you going to be doing the grocery shopping?” The soldier turns back around and huffs.

“Да.” Your unimpressed look is missed, but you let a smile twitch your lips as it normally would. A tease eases out as you shuffle to the fridge on careful feet.

“Wonderful, Nikto, thank you.” You can feel the glare on the back of your neck as you open the barrier, the chill seeping out as the darkness from outside was pushed back by the single overhead light that the Russian had turned on.

A small lapse in conversation falls as you rub at your eyes, groaning under your breath at the itch before you miss grabbing for your yogurt once. You knock your knuckles to the wrack in the fridge and flinch, but quickly re-situate and drag the dairy product out.

“If you want me to order you a bigger bed,” placing the item on the counter, you rip off the top before you go on a quest to find a clean spoon. “You just have to tell me—I can have one ordered. Mattress too.”

Nikto pauses his work, staring at his own gloved fingers as they still. Even in his seat, he was a large sentinel of mass and brutality; you have to wonder if he ever thinks what other people make of him. Your eyes move up and down his visible form as you grab your utensil with a small breath, your pajamas loose and swaying as you saunter back over to the seat directed across from him.

You wait for him to answer as your fingers tap around the plastic cup, licking your lips before your spoon descends down.

“That is not necessary,” he says, lower than he has before as if confused by your willingness to make him comfortable. You blink up at him, but he glares at his gun.

“I don’t mind,” your voice eases, and you take a bite of your breakfast. “I have the money.”

“Why is it that you have no reservations? No backbone?” Nikto’s words are firm, digging into your mind. His eyes burn like gray fire, a finger twitching over a blackened part that you haven’t the faintest clue as to where it might go.

The gun is placed down next to a cleaning rag that smells of oil as you raise an innocent brow.

“I don’t feel the need to be a constant bitch, if that’s what you’re trying to get at here.” He jerks his head away, shaking it harshly as he grumbles.

You force down a chuckle.

“Hey, Big Guy, I’m just saying that there are more important things than buying you stuff you need—food, a bed,” you shrug, scooping more yogurt. “I don’t know, clothes?” Eyes move up and down again, narrowing carefully. “I’m not trying to judge your style, but you do look like you’re in the middle of an active warzone.”

Half-closed lids stare at you, unimpressed.

“Do you ever stop talking, Whelp?”

“Not really,” you comment, licking your spoon as the pale shade darts down to watch. You point the metal at him as you finish, smiling. “You’re fun to talk to.”

You can imagine him raising a dark brow at that, and perhaps he does, based on the skin that moves from under his mask. But you’d quickly gotten used to his silence, as he only grunted and snatched his rag, rubbing it over the barrel of his gun with firm pressure.

After a minute of you watching while cleaning out your cup, he levels out a response of cold steel.

“I do not need your money…When are we leaving?” Nikto moves the form of his Beretta M9 back and picks up the magazine from the counter, having thoroughly disassembled and cleaned every part for the better half of an hour before you had awoken. He needed to think, and the best place to do that was somewhere silent.

Your constant muttering in your sleep had kept him up, spilling in from the open door.

In many ways, you reminded him of a lost puppy—caught up on your own feet and looking at the world through a lens of false confidence, a sheen of dopey pleasure stuck in your expression. But you weren’t dumb. Not as dumb as he thought you would be when he was informed he was being placed with you.

In fact, your smiling face paired with your fast tongue had been somewhat of a shock. Nikto didn’t like being shocked.

You look at him, your head tilted and your face tight from lack of sleep, eyes beady in the low light. Outside the city was only beginning to wake up, the curtains still closed fast though the steaks of light were cast through like strands of ribbon.

“I usually leave at six.”

“Acceptable.” You hum, cleaning out the rest of your breakfast and licking your lips. Pushing the item to the side, you link your fingers together and lean forward, watching the man push the shadowed length of the magazine into the bottom, a tiny click emanating as it locks in. The bulk of Nikto’s fingers caress the grip

You open your mouth but pause, closing it once more. The words of your mom from years past remind you to keep your elegance, and never stoop to ask pointless questions, but one from yesterday was beginning to flare up once more.

Did Nikto see color? Did he find his soulmate already?

You can’t imagine the man having a significant other, truthfully, but you weren’t heartless like that—it was entirely possible.

Those pale eyes miss nothing, and as the M9 disappears into the holster on his meaty thigh from under the table, he clips out through his accent, “What is it, Girl?”

Your eyes snap up in surprise.

“O-oh,” you huff, “nothing.” He stares blankly, spine rail-straight as you come up with a quick way to change the subject. “Have you eaten yet?”

He watches a moment longer before he grasps his rag and folds it neatly into a square, flattening down the edges—you hadn’t yet noticed, but the journals and random objects on your island were all separated and placed neatly atop one another.

Nikto stands and places the fabric into one of his many pockets, moving his grasp over the various straps along his body that tighten the loose material; checking, assessing for flaws. “I have said—you have no ingredients.”

That makes your head perk up.

“Ingredients?” You pick up your garbage and move to toss it away. “You cook?”

There’s a meaningful pause as if he doesn’t want to tell you about himself. Eventually, there’s a low sigh. Perhaps the warmth of your attitude and the easy way you spoke made him forget his stern muteness; it certainly seemed like it.

“Да. Yes.”

You mutter under your breath, raising a brow. “Wasn’t expecting that.” A low grumble behind you makes your face hide a smirk.

Your hand places your spoon in the sink as Nikto takes out a small journal from his back pocket, flipping through it before he finds a blank page. There’s a flash of a pen before a roughly scribbled-on paper is torn out and slid to you. Picking it up, you send a curious glance to the soldier as he begins speaking formally.

“You need говядина, баранины, рыба, картофель, свекла, лук…” He kept speaking, listing off ingredients as if a checklist for an infiltration team—you run your eyes down the perfect Russian script on the paper, amused. You couldn’t read any of it, unfortunately, or understand exactly what he was saying, but you expected it was the basics.

Your soft laugh interrupts him, and his eyes dart over as he tenses.

Raising the paper, you ease out, “I can’t read this,” you slide it back over, “I’ll leave it in your hands, okay? You said you were going to be doing the shopping anyway.” Your eyes shimmer, before you back up and begin walking away to go get ready. As you pass him, you lean in and flirt. “I think I should buy an apron, too, Nikto. One with a strap that tightens around your waist. Make you my big bad live-in cook.”

Chuckling at his annoyed growl, you pull your blanket closer and begin back upstairs, hand sliding along the back of your belongings until the banister can take your weight.

“I am not your cook,” Nikto barks from the island, boots taking him to stand at the bottom as you gently place your feet down, his clenched hands pulsing in insult.

A distraction, indeed.

You send a laughing glance over your shoulder, not responding as you make it to the top. Without another word, you look him up and down before you disappear into your room, stepping over your yards of fabric.

Nikto glares, his jaw under his mask clenched in deep annoyance. No, you weren’t dumb—but this would have been easier if you were.

Your hand closes your door and locks it, doing the same to the one that connected the soldier’s room to your own. Instantly, your smile drops.

Eyes blinking slowly, tension pulls itself back into your shoulders—infecting your muscles gradually until you press your palms into your eyes and take a deep breath. Leaning against your bed frame, your body rumbled with hunger, and the shaking of your hands got worse the longer you stood.

You were afraid.

Afraid to go outside, afraid of the looks you would get. Afraid of another gift, or even something worse this time around. Bodies hang in the back of your mind, charred. Jewels like starlight, tinted with black blood.

Sighing aggressively, you shake your head and clench your eyes shut.

“It’s going to work itself out,” you tell yourself, going to unlock your phone and find the text from Aly that had gone through last night.

Room 32A w me today! Same photographers as always.

You take a shuddering breath, fighting back the panic. “It’s all going to be over soon.”

Nikto stands downstairs with his arms crossed and his feet apart, gazing at the colors around him with unblinking eyes. He wasn’t the type of man to make comments about this, the mash and clash of shades and hues. But the entire time he’d been here his hands had been itching to re-organize; at least make it seem like this place had some form of structure. He’d tried his best with his own room, but there was only so much he could do.

His piercing blues side-eye the taxidermy deer head on the wall, narrowed to a point of distaste. The man wouldn't be surprised if you’d even named the thing as well.

Nikto grumbles to himself in Russian, muttering about everything from food to the job itself—itching at the sliver of pale skin from between his gloves and the sleeve of his compression shirt under his bracers.

“We will get this done quick,” he growls under his breath in English for practicing sake. “Keep the girl safe and put a bullet in the man at first sight, yes?” Even he has his doubts, and in his gut, he feels this mission will take far longer than anyone thought it would. Just his luck, he was here—missing all the fun. Nikto clenches his biceps tighter, rolling his shoulders with a grunt. “Be back at Base soon.”

If only.

Far more prolonged than he would have taken, you come back down with a small smile on your lips just as he was about to stomp upstairs and demand to know what you were up to. You wear a simple button-down, and the man sees the hue of cream in it as your black dress pants swish around your ankles. He watches closely as you descend, making sure your legs don’t attack themselves and make you meet your end before he has the chance to spill blood.

“Have you been standing there the whole time?” Your eyes blink at him, and Nikto finds himself studying your face, seeing how the shirt sinches at your waist as you have it tucked into your pants. The swell of your hips that are shown off nicely in pleated cotton. A cross-body purse with the words ‘Coach’ hits off your left thigh with every pass of your uneven steps.

Pale eyes slink down your body slowly, and Nikto hums in the back of your throat.

“Nikto?” His gaze turns hard and he snaps his studying vision back to you with a heat in his veins.

Your face scrunches with interest as you wonder what shoes you should wear out. “You with me?”

He scoffs, arms lowering slowly as you slink past, the perfume you’d put on drifting into his nostrils like a vapor of lust. The man cracks his neck and looks back at you as you bend over near your end table, fishing out small black stiletto boots with a tiny heel to them.

Everything you do is layered with extensive thought, down nearing the layer of perfection besides how you drop one of the shoes to the ground with a soft curse before snatching it up.

“Heel?” Nikto ignores your question for one of his own. “You are going to kill yourself.”

“I will not,” you level him with a dry stare. “I’ll be hanging off your arm, Mr. Bear, there’s not a chance in the world I would fall.” He sighs and you chuckle, slipping on the boots with one hand on the wall. “Besides, I work at AMA of all places—showing up without looking my best and potentially getting photographed on the way there would send me on a one-way trip to unemployment.”

Your mind wonders if anything like this was sticking with Nikto; the stack of rules and regulations that was sitting on your head like a rock. While his were probably more life and death, yours were no less strict or strenuous. Everything was routine.

You were nothing but a gear in the machine, but now you were responsible for an entire section if these next few photoshoots went well.

Nikto doesn’t comment, but he slides out a low, “Your hand is shaking.”

“Dystonic tremors,” you respond easily. “Result of brain trauma. They don’t go away, only lesson for a bit.” Standing to your full height, you grab your black double-breasted coat and slip it on. Your soft face tilts to him, a twitch to your lips catching Nikto slightly off-guard at your apparent uncaring attitude to the entire thing. “Let me tell you, my signature is nothing short of crazy-looking lines and slices.”

The small, airy, huff that emanates from under his mask is all the reaction you’ll get to that, and you chuckle before you grab your keys from your purse. All of your make-up took time, especially when you felt about one minute away from losing your cool, but you were both still on schedule.

“Oh,” you say as you slip your key into the slot by the door, calling the elevator. “Be ready for the pictures.”

Nikto blinks, fingers twitching. “Pictures?”

“Just…” you sigh, looking at him, “just try to look less…” Your hand vaguely gestures as he stands there, large shoulders and bulging muscle leaking from behind his kevlar. A vibration in your throat leads to a general sound of, “Eh.”

Pale eyes glower as the sunlight streams in through the closed curtains behind the two of you.

“That means nothing to me.”

“No, I don’t want to be mean,” you wave a hand as the ding signifies the elevator has arrived. You unlock the dividing door and step through as Nikto follows, apparently not needing anything more than what was currently on him. Judging by the combat knife at his thigh and the bulk of his phone and wallet in his pocket, you imagined that really was all he needed. And no one could forget the Beretta, either. There were extra magazines strapped to his vest.

“I do not care about your opinions of me,” the Russian spits. “I am here to do my job and leave.”

Your eyes slide to him as you once more punch your key in and press the button for the lobby.

“I never said you weren’t. You’re just, well,” you pause, “I think you might…scare people.”

You’re leveled with a blank and expressionless look. A frown grows on your face. “Don’t stare at me like that, I’m being honest.”

“I am aware.” His feet shift, hands going behind his back to cross in the perfect image of a killer waiting for an excuse to pounce. Nikto looms beside you, accent harsh. “I am not meant to look anything but.”

You stifle a long sigh.

“If you just lost the get-up, or maybe changed into a suit and lost the mask I could—”

“Нет!” The bark is louder than any before it, and you find yourself flinching immediately, head snapping in his direction as one hand goes to clutch your purse. You suck in a harsh breath of air, blinking quickly.

Burning eyes seer through your flesh and bone, enraged by the prospect as you begin to shrink subtly away, your body leaning more to one side.

A tense silence strangles your throat.

“O-okay,” you whisper, eyes wide as you stare in shock.

The man says nothing and snaps his head like a wolf to look away from you, poking holes through the metal of the box you’re both stuck in together as his biceps jerk in an involuntary reaction. After the outburst, you clear your throat and stand up straight—arms moving to cross themselves over your chest.

But Alyona always said you were too kind for your own good. Or just too trained.

“I’m sorry,” you explain, not looking over as you stutter. “I didn’t know it was a sore subject if I had I…I wouldn’t have brought it up. I apologize, Nikto.”

He says nothing and the entire ride has fallen into a thick atmosphere of uncomfortable thorns; the vines dragging across your skin as it tingles with unease.

I’m getting too comfortable, your eyebrows pull in on your face, lips tight. No more Yefim.

But why was it so easy to speak to Nikto? To poke and prod; to flirt and find the bulge of his body attractive to you. He bled raw murder—sociopathy in the lines next to his eyes making a perfect backdrop to a mask that would look natural speckled in blood. You could imagine him clearly behind the sights of a gun, and even as you envision yourself in the crossfire, the thought doesn’t make you panic.

Why?

Your mind flashes to the memory of him sitting in your kitchen, his large hands caressing the side of his weapon, finger digging into the metal as the material of his gloves bunches. With a frantic blink of your eyes, your face suddenly gains a deep heat to it—throat going dry.

What was happening to you?

You should be terrified down to the bone of this man. So why were your clothes suddenly too tight on your body? Why could you smell the scent of his body; rotting wood and gun oil mixed with sweat from under the kevlar? It was sinking into your nostrils until you had to move a hand up and rub at your nose, chest holding weight.

The Russian side-eyes you.

Nikto stays as still as a statue as the elevator comes to a slow stop, a ding of the door as it pulls back making you snap out of whatever strange trance you were in. You leave quickly, feet walking as fast as they’re able past a suddenly stiff Isaak.

The doorman squeaks when he sees the soldier—those pale eyes darting to the front desk instantly as Nikto follows after you with his canid-loping. Isaak’s body shivers before you exit the building, placing your keys back into your purse with a slow breath to calm yourself.

Yet, it’s not soon after that the looks start up from passing people, and then after, the quick pulling of phones and the lighting of recognition in eyes.

The car is unlocked with a beep from Nikto’s key fob, and you wonder how or when the vehicle got here in the first place.

You puff the collar of your coat and move along the ashen streets until a heavy hand claps on your shoulder. As you snap your head up to look at Nikto, he’s already pushing you away from the concrete ground and instead to a parked car sitting stationary a few feet away.

Camera flashes make your eyes go buggy for a moment, hand slashing the air to connect to the soldier’s wrist to help steady yourself. He grunts next to your ear, sending a fast and sharp command in Russian into the cold air that makes even your back go straight for a second. People halt, their faces shocked and loose before they slightly back up.

“Inside,” the man grumbles, and he releases you as his grip extends to the back door, opening it as his head turns to scan the crowd. You blink up at him slowly, steadying yourself on the frame.

“What did you say to them?” There’s a flash of something across his visible flesh. Amusement?

“It does not matter. Quickly.” You huff and slink inside, carefully slipping into the leather seats before the door is closed behind you with a puff of air. In the relatively still silence, you move a hand and brush against the tiny wound from the explosion, looking out the window and across the multitude of jeering faces.

Like an audience, you yourself the attraction at the zoo, you can’t stop the dark thoughts in your head about who could be out there; locking onto male faces with sneers and others with wide wonder. A man with a beard is taking a video of you, another leaning over to someone at his side and whispering something—they both smirk at each other and snicker. One more just watches, silent, a large jacket over his shoulders and his hands in his pockets.

You stay stuck in your hammering heart’s throws, hands going to rest in your lap and clench over one another.

He’s not out there, your inner monologue reasons, moving your head forward swiftly to try and calm yourself down. He isn’t. He would never come here—and now with Nikto, there’s not going to be any more attacks.

But whoever was doing this wasn’t right in the head, for whatever reason besides they were obsessed with you.

Nikto enters the driver’s seat and slams the door shut behind him. You don’t comment on how he looks far too large to be driving such a normal car, moving to click on your seatbelt as he does the same. As time draws closer and closer for when you walk through AMA’s doors, your anxiety grows like a rising tide.

Jewelry and bits of glass. A bomb under the floorboards.

“Nikto,” you speak as the car pulls out, one of the man’s hands on the wheel and the other resting on the grip of his M9. His eyes move from the reflection in the mirror, meeting yours before they return to the road. As always, there were few cars out. “You know about the,” you take a breath. “The gifts, right? My mom told you?”

“I have been informed, Да. Драгоценности.” You listen to the harsh words, the grating Russian, blankly. Nikto pauses, before pushing out stiffly, his hands on the wheel twitching. “Jewelry.”

You nod, watching him. Your lungs tighten.

“What if this time it isn’t?” This time you get a longer stare, a small grunt of air.

The Russian doesn’t do comfort—he’s not some man who pretends that isn’t what is most likely going to be the case. But he wasn’t in KorTac because he didn’t know what he was doing, either. He would let you go where you needed to go and do what you needed to do, as long as he was an ever-present black shadow beside your pale contrast. Some corrupting demon.

Nikto could adapt and learn faster than anyone, could look at a situation and react accordingly. Call his actions cocky, because maybe deep down they were. He was arrogant in the pride of his skills. And, yes, blunt. Even to a woman that piqued his interest as you did.

The man shifts his gaze away. “It won’t be.”

—

Nikto parks the car on the street, right in front of the doors to your agency. With a nervous glint in your eyes, you let him get out and open your door, standing behind it as you shimmy out. Boots meeting the ground, you make sure you have your bearings before you take another step away. Brushing down your coat and picking off random bits of dust or dirt, Nikto prods you along after the vehicle is locked.

Here, at least, the crowd was slightly subdued, seeing that now there were a few days between you and the explosion at the bakery. Though, it wasn’t vacant.

Journalists wait for you, and Nikto has to use that same tone from before to clear a way for you like a guard dog, snarling fangs and all, as fast Russian is thrown into your face by glaring men and women.

You politely smile and wave a hand as if to try and tell that you can’t understand, nor do you want to participate. “S-sorry, I don’t know what you’re asking me.” You’re met with hard looks up and down; disgusted comments that you don’t need to know the language to fully understand. Your body slightly curls into itself.

Maybe Mom was right about me leaving. Nikto shoves out a hand and all but barks at a man who had come too close for his liking, threatening him with his fingers tapping the grip of his gun.

Who would have known that a former FSB would be so feral, you think to yourself sarcastically. But that wasn’t to say you weren’t thankful. Nikto being scary was perhaps the best thing to come out of this.

You swiftly walk through the front doors, where the journalists and all the other eager ears can't come in, and immediately feel the need to sit down and take a breath. Nikto walks backward into AMA, shouting behind him and waving a hand—eyes from all over lock onto the two of you.

A sheepish smile peels your bloodless face back as the ladies at the front desk pierce you with unimpressed stares.

“Ah…Здравствуйте,” your Russian is still stunted and broken, but you get the formal greeting across even if it makes your vocal cords pull on themselves. The two look at each other and shake their slate heads lightly and what little confidence you had shriveled.

Nikto successfully pushes off the strangers from the door, his appearance and authority so uncanny to them that they send horrified glances to one another and back away. Not without a few choice words, of course. When he casually walks back to your side, you look up at him and innocently open your mouth.

“I don’t think you’re saying anything kind, are you?”

“No,” he glances down at you, shifting his feet as his arms cross. “Why would we?”

You let your small smile crinkle your eyes at that, a tiny chuckle. Nikto’s gaze darts down to study it with a gradually fading tension before you walk forward.

“You don’t like paparazzi?” You’re trying to distract yourself from the event that draws closer and closer as your jerking feet take you to the front desk. Yet, Nikto stays beside you, and you use his body as a guiding point to remain on a semi-straight path.

��I do not like anyone who gets in my way, Woman.” His response is lessened in brutality, but it is nonetheless formal.

But you have either blocked out his response or wiped it from your damaged brain because you furrow your brows at the women at the front as they do nothing. They’d always passed you the box, but now they just stare blandly as your heart rapidly pounds against your ribcage.

Nikto spares you a glance, speaking in fast English. “What is it?”

You frown, palms sweaty. “They usually give me the package right about now.”

The Russian huffs, immediately commenting in his native tongue to the two. They scoff at him and utter something, one giving you a final glance once over as if you were on fire before they both go back to typing at their computers.

It’s a moment before you get a translation. Nikto’s eyelids tighten.

“They have nothing.” Your head perks up, shock filling your senses.

“They…” you trail off, studying the ladies as they ignore you, but not a second later a stomach-tightening fear holds you hostage.

A change in pattern? Your throat clears itself as your name is called from across the lobby, over seating where Yefim and the others had waited for you not days prior—alive and well. If you weren’t too focused on not flailing over, you could have imagined their ghosts sitting there, ready to walk you home.

“Oh,” breathing out a slow response, you take a small step back and ignore the curious look from your ice-like guard.

“Seraph!” Alyona’s voice calls to you, and as you slowly pass Nikto, feeling a bit lightheaded, before her hands grab your arm and you’re pulled into a tight hold. “Солнышко.”

You take in the scent of clean clothes and warm fire and instinctually sag forward.

“Aly,” you sigh. The arms squeeze you tightly, slightly shaking you back and forth until a firm kiss is pressed into your temple.

Alyona pulls back after a few seconds, grabbing you by the cheeks and tilting your head to the side to stare at the tiny mark there—barely noticeable anymore.

“There, you see? Almost gone, Seraph, just like this entire situation will be.” She smiles as a way of reassurance, her hair straight as a line. “It is good to see you in person again. I missed my friend, and I apologize for being unable to come and see you. Nikifor was too worried about me.”

“And I’d never hold that against him,” you shook your head, feeling her hands fall from you softly. “You didn’t have to come over for me to know you were worried.”

“Ah,” she scoffs, eyes delicate along her angled features. “But it would have made me feel better, no? I’m selfish.”

Forcing a smile, you skip past the greetings and get to the point in a quick whisper of shock and fear.

“There isn’t a gift.” Her face goes concerned, stuttering without knowing what to say before her head swivels the open lobby. At the people who might be listening.

“That might not be bad,” Aly hurriedly says, only sending Nikto a strange glance before putting a hand on your back and moving you down one of the hallways to your changing rooms. “You do not know that it is a horrible thing, Little Солнышко, I promise you. Maybe the monster has finally come to his senses now that the authorities are opening a case on him.”

“It isn’t that simple,” you try to hold onto the thread of your sanity as your Russian dog follows at your heels, listening but not showing it behind his blank stare. “I-I’ve been reading up on it, stalkers just don’t stop especially after something like that—he’s already gone too far.”

“Shh,” Aly firmly hushes you, gripping you closer to her as men and women pass by, some pausing to try and speak before they’re gowled away by Nikto. “No, no, why would you look up things such as that? Seraph it’s not that simple—this cannot be explained away by papers or studies. This is a bad person, and that is the end of it. We need to have patience and keep steady.” She tries to tease you back to your soft malleability. “Come now, I know you have trouble with that, but I think your good friend here is well enough on her feet to hold you. I have no trouble with it, yes?”

You give a damp chuckle, licking your lips and looking anywhere but at her.

“I’m scared, Aly,” you admit, and you don’t see Nikto’s vision fully focused on you. “I don’t want to be in public right now I–”

Your breath hitches and you’re quickly reminded about your makeup, and how hideous you’ll look if you mess it up right now. A hand raises and covers your mouth, your shaky breath hitting the digits as you try to restrain your tears.

“Easy,” Alyona mutters, patting the back of your back softly as she takes a quick left, pulling you into a side room and closing it before Nikto can slip inside. He knocks on the door immediately, but with a heavy order in Russian, Aly has you alone in here with a flick of the light.

It’s a storage room, larger and holding mops and buckets.

“Explain,” the woman whispers. “Talk to me. No tears now, my Seraph.”

You suck down a deep breath, hands shaking violently, and even a bit painfully as the nerves pinch and tighten. Aly’s hands cover yours, squeezing them as you hiss.

“Speak,” she urges. “It will make you feel better.”

“I don’t know what to do,” your throat tightens. “I-I got a text last night and I haven't told Nikto about it.”

“Text? From…from the—”

“Yes.” Your eyes dig into hers. “I feel like I’m being hunted. Like…like every turn I make there’s something else around the corner; people's faces scare me, I don’t know what they’re thinking.”

“Seraph…” Aly’s face scrunches, pain etched in her expression.

“I can’t go to sleep without seeing their bodies,” you whimper, and the woman already knows who you’re talking about. “I can’t sleep, Alyona. I’m so tired, and my mom, she…she just…” You shut yourself off, moving back a step and waving your hands. “I want to be able to tell her things, but I can never get the words out—she’s,” the large shadow of boots from the crack in the door spread along the white floor. “I wish I could speak to her as I speak to you, I want to lean on her for support through this.”

A tear leaks down from your cheek and you quickly wipe it away, stopping your rant for the final time.

“I’m sorry,” you breathe, tone changing. “No, I’m sorry, I can’t put that on you.”

Aly takes you into a hard hug, arms around your waist and holding firm.

“Lord, Солнышко. Do not apologize to me.” You both stay there, and it gets harder to hide your ragged breath. She sighs and rests her head above yours. “You are too good, Seraph. Too good for this.”

She holds you, harder than you can remember anyone doing since you were little. Staring at the door and Nikto’s shadow, the conversation shifts to him as if a piece of paper in the wind.

“And about the beast? I am not sure I like him yet.” A meaningful pause. “I know I said not to fuck him on the first day, but if the size of him is anything to go by…”

You laugh, taken aback by the shift in her tone. The woman smirks as if a plan had worked out.

“I’m not going to fuck him, Aly. Christ.”

“I am just being honest, yes?” Her eyes shift to the door. “I have Nikifor, of course, but even he isn’t as monstrous as that. If you do choose to get into bed with him,” you groan, mood lightning. “You’ll need a wheelchair after he’s done rutting into you like a—”

“Alyona!”

From the other side of the door, Nikto taps his foot on the floor slowly, his arms crossed and his glare stuck into the far wall as heavy laughter spills out from under. He growls, annoyed, and speaks to himself in his native tongue as he’s been doing a lot lately. Nikto watches people pass by without moving his head as if a toy as his eyes slide when a shadow darts one way.

His mind moves to the lack of a gift, and the Russian’s guarding form tries to figure out the next move while the two women hide away. No gift was a strange turn of events, but he wasn’t about to try and say he was an expert in stalkers—his only job was to keep you alive and let the authorities track the animal down.

Nikto’s brain remembers the sheer panic that had washed your features and grunts to himself, thighs tensing.

The only thing he could call you was strange, and already from only knowing you for less than two days, he had attributed that fact to you. Strange. Attractive, obviously, as there was no getting past that. But strange. Not like the women he’d been around in his life before—you apologized for things like asking about his mask. No one had ever done that before.

Nikto’s hidden throat bobs in a swallow as a large group of photographers walk through the hallways, speaking to one another about an upcoming photoshoot. Your name and your friends being mentioned make his attention shift back, his neck tilting to follow the group and listen in on the fast Russian conversation.

“...Explosion?”

“The two are popular…”

“—See how many shoots they have lined up, Fedorov says the calendar is booked!”

“He has them ready to ship out to parties as well…guess who’s going to get a raise now that the whores are even more famous? Us!”

The soldier’s eyes narrow violently, heart jerking to the pulse of disgust.

“Fools,” he scoffs, slicing his head away as the laughter spikes up from the group.

The door behind him opens, and his pale eyes blink as he casually steps to the side, his arms still crossed as his neck bends to you as your form walks through the entrance.

His chest slows at the sight of your red-rimmed eyes, the color hitting his pupils instantly. Still, he keeps his tongue, only studying you for a long moment as you sigh under your breath.

“Sorry about that, Nikto,” you spread a kind look over your face like butter. Again with the apologies.

“Who is this?” A finger is motioned to Alyona as she elegantly walks out, looping an arm through yours. Nikto already knew, of course, but he wants it from you.

Your friend surprises him and speaks first with a haughty tone, inspecting him as she speaks.

“Alyona Arkadyevna Solovyova,” an icy brow is raised. “You are?”

Nikto tenses, and the pair size the other up like bears. You elbow your friend in the side lightly, amusement hiding the still nervous lines along your forehead.

The soldier pushes out slowly, “...Nikto.”

Alyona huffs. “Just Nikto? Никто?”

A stiff grunt. You watch the Russian’s visible skin go tight with blatant irritation.

“Alright,” you mutter gradually, feeling the tension that had formed. “We all need to get going. We have to get our schedules, Aly.”

“Right,” the woman sighs. “Busy week.”

“Busy month,” you grumble, but you slide her a thankful look. Alyona hums and lets her expression soften.

“I will need floor plan,” Nikto interrupts, and you nod without a beat as Aly walks with you down the hall, unwittingly following the same path as the photographers that the masked man had seen not minutes prior.

“I’ll get my manager on it, you’ll have one by the end of the day.”

“Copy.”

Aly utters into your ear as she guides you slightly faster. “He’s…”

You puff air. “Scary?”

Her eyes tell you all the answers you need and you let out a tiny, defeated sigh in response.

—

You wear a silk robe as you lounge in the studio's seat, your bare legs crossed over themselves as everyone waits for Alyona to change out of her previous clothes. Closing your eyes and letting them rest from the constant white light from above, the skimpy pajama set under the silk was nothing short of insulting.

But this was what you signed up for, after all.

You can’t even recall the brand that had paid for this, too caught up with your neck hairs constantly pointing up in caution. There were many people in the room, and you only took solace in the few that were familiar to you—certain photographers you’d seen around including your own, and the other women here with you for when the space was free.

But none even looked at you beyond a smirk and a quick whisper to their friends.

Well, none but Nikto.

He turns his gaze away only to scan the room, and then those orbs always rove back like a security camera; if you weren’t so on edge, you’d find it funny—cute even. Like a little robot of obsidian death. Across the divide, you send a quirk of your lips as the front door opens.

“Let us get this over with, yes?” Alyona’s outfit is the color opposite of yours, and you snicker at the fact she must have walked from the changing room without putting on her robe to get here.

Pajamas had been too nice of a word, the reality of it was tight lace and restraining straps along your thighs, making the skin move away and your ribs go inward. See-through tights and horrible little bows at your navel and in between your breasts.

Lingerie.

Your fiery friend's words from days before had been a prediction it seemed, because you had dates lined up for intimate apparel for an entire three days; today was the only joint photoshoot as well. You felt like a puppet.

Standing, you untie your robe and slip it off, folding it over your arm before placing it down on the chair. White, of course, is the color that was chosen for you, and black for Alyona. Padding over to the plain backdrop, carefully dodging the ring lights and the camera equipment, you speak easily as eyes dig into the both of you.

Envious or lustful, it didn’t matter to you. You just wanted this to be over so you could go home.

“This is the first thing that they put us into?” You have to ask, plucking at the line of elastic that pushes up your breasts uncomfortably as you grimace. “We almost get blown up and I’m getting shoved into lace?”

“Just think of the money, Little Seraph,” Aly reminds blandly and you frown. “Money, and then we can fill our days with whatever it is we choose after we get wrinkled and they finally let us go.”

Nikto no longer stares.

His head is stuck to the door, tilted away from the scene of you and the blonde, from the flashes of the camera. You wonder at his hulking shoulders before your photographer’s fingers snap for you to look at them, and you do so with a practiced face of no thoughts and curve your body to fit beside Alyona’s.

This continues for multiple hours, different sets, and the same dead mind that it takes to successfully pull the look off. No one wants you to think, to show real emotion—they want a manufactured image, and so you give it to them. It’s the only thing you can do right, and even then it had come down to a fifty-fifty draw with genetics; a brawl of metabolism and walking on nails.

A model tries to speak to Nikto, and you find your gaze slipping over as she does—her flapping lips moving but the man’s interest not shifting for a second. You tilt your head from where you sit on the floor, surrounded by soft fabrics like feathered blankets that tickle your open skin. A nest, nearly.

The soldier's body pivots, and he fully turns away from the model and faces you head-on. You furrow your brows as the woman’s face goes a deeper shade of gray—angry. She spits something at him before marching away like an angry cat.

You meet Nikto’s face and your lips part in question, one arm keeping you up as your legs are folded. Alyona is off on break, so at this point, it has come down to only the photographer, your guard, and the few other models in question. As you study each other, the man’s hard eyes never soften, never even ease away from a dead nothingness as they slide down—just like your ‘perfect’ face.

You feel his gaze caress you like he had his gun, and with a tingle in your flesh you can suddenly imagine him doing the same to you; taking you apart bit by corrupt bit until you’re left shaking for another reason.

Clearing your throat, you instantaneously tear your eyes off him and his seemingly widening stance before you can see him do the exact same. The camera ahead of you flashes, and the unimpressed Russian words that come your way make you hunch.

“Apologies, Fédor,” you ease, nodding. “I was distracted.”

The dark eyes of the photographer only soften slightly, but the professional knife returns. Yet, before the next burn of the flash into your retinas, there's a commotion from out in the hallway.

Your head snaps to it, the pound of footsteps and the call of fast words, but arms are already grabbing you, the camera taking a shot involuntarily as the sudden slam of the door makes Fédor flinch.

Nikto carries you by your waist, and you yelp in shock at being so easily manhandled away. Your feet are set back down and your robe is tossed to you as you scramble to snatch it.

An immovable stone is leveled in front of you, and you gaze widely at the soldier’s back as the bulk of Nikto’s hand is placed on his M9.

“Keep behind me,” he grunts and you stutter out a rapid affirmative as you hurry into your robe, tying off the strap. Your head only slightly peaks out from behind him as your palm lays flat on his back.

Nikto tenses but says nothing at the action as the door opens quickly.

Your manager is pushing his way through the confused and annoyed employees, barking and snarling at anything before he can finally shift his body and find you. In his hands, he holds a large wrapped box.

“You!” He booms in loud English, and you take a swift inhale as your pulse soars.

Nikto’s body straightens as the man moves closer to you two, but the soldier doesn’t let him come any closer than three feet before he gives a cold, and firm word.

The raging manager tries to lock eyes with you, moving his legs back and forth and divulging into his native tongue. You wished that learning Russian had come easy to you because you would certainly be less scared and nervous than you are right now. Everyone watches, and people from the hallways even peek inside to listen.

Whatever it is the man is saying, it’s certainly interesting, because many cover their mouths with their hands and widen their eyes.

“Nikto?” You ask quietly.

“Hush,” is all he responds with, but his hand falls from his weapon and that alone makes your clenched digits on the back of his kevlar loosen a smidge.

You glance at all the searing eyes and look to the floor, confidence shriveling even at work. Your face burns with embarrassment as the barrage continues on, but inside of your chest, you enjoy how quick the Russian was in his actions to keep you safe—far faster than you could be with your internal injuries.

Nikto talks to your manager lowly, with no emotion in his tone as his mask tilts down. One last growled word and glare, and the finely dressed man points back at you before he shakes his head, shoving the parcel into Nikto’s hands. He turns and leaves, trailing smoke as he shoves through the crowd in the doorway.

Everything is deathly silent, and you feel entirely left out of the loop as dread grows.

There are so many eyes here.

Your body shivers, but you do the best you can to look collected—your hand dropping back down to your side as the whispering starts back up. Vision sneaking from one gray blob to another, your jaw clenches when the paranoia once more leaks into you, as if an old lover trying to claw its way back into your heart.

What’s going on? Your brain hurts.

Nikto utters to you, holding the package firmly in front of him. “Get dressed. We are leaving.”

“What’s in the box?” Your voice is tiny, face imploring him to answer even if you don’t exactly want one.

You know who it came from, and morbid curiosity would be the end of you. It should be burned, tossed away, and hidden. But how would you be able to catch him if you didn’t have evidence?

Nikto glances over his shoulder at you. He pauses. Repeats. “Get dressed.”

It doesn't take much convincing.

You’re trailed by him even for the short walk to the changing room, your voice kindly asking people to move out of the way. The only reason they do is because of the black void behind you, of course, but the important part is that they move regardless.

“Nikto,” you speak out in the hallway, the man corralling you so that his body is nearest to the foot traffic and your hand slides along the wall. “I-I can’t just leave, I still have appointments lined up until the end of my shift. There’s the dress fitting and the makeup change at two, before I have the—”

You continue on, but the soldier is back to his muteness; great walking form only holding the box in one hand while the other is resting securely on his M9—you guessed that would be a pattern like the use of ‘we’ in his sentences.

He stops you with a grunt. “We are getting you back to your property. I need to be in contact with security team.”

“Security?” You halt outside the changing room door, holding out a quivering hand. “Nikto, I need answers. What made my manager act like that? Why aren’t you showing me what’s inside that box?”

“You do not need to see it,” he explains blankly. “Unimportant.”

You flatten your lips, not speaking while a group passes by behind him. The both of you eye them, but you continue after they leave, dark shadows in the corner of your vision.

“If it’s about me, then it’s not unimportant—I will not be kept out of the loop. Not after Yefi—” Your voice fizzles, but you shake your head and slow your pulse. “More people are in danger than just me if there’s going to be another public attack. I need to know what’s going on at all times. My mom won’t let me know about the active investigation, but as long as you’re working under me,” you take a breath, “then I order you to.”

Nikto’s pupils tighten, lungs in his chest stilling. It’s a battle of wills that takes place, and you’re not exactly one to win those.

Before long you’re being pushed back into the room behind you with a growl, and you blink quickly as those who had been in the hallways all look on with wide and shocked expressions as the door shuts behind Nikto’s back. You’re left standing as you steady yourself when the Russian lets go.

“I do not take orders from you.” He spits, visible flesh swimming with irritability. “Remove that from your mind, Whelp. I am here to watch after you, nothing more.”

Again, outward confrontation was never your strong suit.

“And I’m trying to watch after myself,” you say in a low and even tone. “Three people are dead—I’m making sure that no one else is going to get injured because of me.”

Teeth snap, a hand waved in exasperation.

“That is brainless. Others would not care about you, given the same situation.” You're looked down at, and you can envision a sneer on his lips easily. You frown and cross your arms.

“You’re rude.”

Nikto blinks quickly.

“What?”

“You’re rude,” you say again, nose in the air. “Mean. Ill-mannered. Impudent, if you will.”

The lights of the room buzz over your head, white on every surface. It’s funny, really, how this building cloaks itself in a veil of perfection and purity when the complete opposite is going on. And no one seemed to be doing anything to make it easier.

“You do not know how to keep your tongue behind your teeth, Woman,” Nikto bites, hands over the box clenched tight. “I am doing you a favor, but you are intent on biting the hand that feeds.”

You don’t respond, glaring softly with a tapping finger over your robe.

Nikto’s eyes flash, chest rumbling. But he looks like he made up his mind with no real care at all for what this might do to you—if you were acting like this, fine, he would give you what you were asking for.

“So be it,” he snarls, accent harsh and brutal.

The box is shoved into your arms and the man turns on his heels and stalks out. You watch him go, licking your lips and sighing slowly as the door slams.

Your neck carefully bends downward, and you delicately run your fingers over the bare cardboard, feeling the bumps and the bends in the material. The interaction left a sour taste in your mouth, but you could worry about your people-pleasing nature later, this was far more important.

One more shaky breath, and you’re placing the package on the pale top of a vanity, sitting it in the middle between makeup brushes and a notepad. You used this room more than the others, so you supposed you could call it yours in a strange ‘I’m always seen here, so it’s mine’ way. Like an unassigned-assigned seat in a university.

“He wouldn’t give it to me unless it was safe, right?” Your voice echoes, but you know the answer. Nikto valued the mission above all else, anything to get there was wasted on him.

The wide eyes of the crowd were blooming in the back of your head, your brain pulsing. Unconsciously, one of your hands goes back to rub at the base of your skull, fingers lightly dragging up and down to itch at an irreversible scar hidden in your hair.

Shaking your head, you pull back and rub your digits into your sweaty palms. The hair on your arms stands up, and, hot in your robe, you undo the strap and let the garment hang open.

With a steadying breath and tingling nervousness, the back of your eyelids explodes with gray fire as you pull at the top of the box, the cardboard slipping away from one another. Now or never.

You see the dead-eyes first, and the feathers after.

A hand snapping to your mouth, you cover your sharp shock as the image of three dead doves lay mutilated in the confines of plastic bags. Across the front of the material lay three names in quivering English script.

Petya.

Aleksandr.

Your horrified gaze locks onto the last, its tiny wings broken and legs ripped from its body of white purity. Ripped in half. An angel of wind and clouds, stuffed into a cage with its dark blood sloshing around in a bag of murder.

Yefim.

The others had been burned, feathers curling and ashy beaks open wide.

Tears sting behind your eyelids, mouth perpetually open to the pure disgust you feel—the sword that pierces what little you’d built yourself back up.

You don’t know how long you stay there, staring, but while you’re trapped in your terror, Nikto has already called the investigators he’d been told would be heading your case and informed them of more evidence in curt sentences.

Maybe the cameras had picked up someone walking into your manager’s office, where the package had been left.

In his mind, he called you foolish, and he truly did mean it.

How pig-headed could you be? And yet at the same time, he knew from your interactions that you were unused to this harsh city’s climate. People here didn’t care about you, and they wouldn’t. Even the man he had just hung the phone up on seemed eager to get back to the cigarette that Nikto had heard being lit up instead of helping the Western Woman and her Consul mother.

While the soldier had his reservations as well, he cared little for semantics. He had a job, and he would see it through. Nikto didn’t concern himself about you or your feelings; he didn’t care about your fear. You were someone he needed to watch like a pet, and he would. What else would he do?

To keep you alive was the only priority, and alive was an easy thing to make happen. He knew alive very well, and the gray area in between it.

Nikto was born and bred for this, and he was nothing but a cliff-face with the dig of a climber’s hook stuck in the side, his own stubbornness butting heads with the mountain goat that was you and your melting eyes. That smile.

That body clothed in tight lace.

Nikto growls to himself and slams a hard fist to your door twice.

“Девушка! Hurry up!” His ears twitch to the sound of muffled sobs and his hand freezes above the door before a third strike can boom over the hallway.

He blinks slowly.

Arm lowering, he scoffs to himself before his hands cross his chest, the weight of his shoulders barring down as a janitor slinks past, pushing a cleaning bucket. Nikto picks up on the green of his eyes as they lock with his, and the two are locked in with one another until the soldier’s lids narrow dangerously.

The man pads on and turns a corner.

When your form graces him once more, the man has brushed his kevlar of nonexistent dust, eager to leave this place for a more secure area even for just the time being.

He does not mention the glossiness of your eyes or the panicked, and not well handled, swiping of your mascara streaks. You’re back in your normal clothes. Nikto only takes the box you wordlessly offer him, and the contents inside that he had been made aware of prior.

It was your decision—he’d tried to tell you.

“Good,” he utters, not glancing at your quick lungs. “Come.”

He walks, and after a swaying moment, you jerkily step after.

Your pulse is so loud it drowns out the comments people make as they look at you, no longer a kiss on your cheek or a pat on your shoulder—now it was distrust and caution. What if something happened to them while you were around?

I’m not infected, your brain tries to ease you, your vision a dark tunnel that stays stuck to Nikto’s wide back as he carves a path. This isn’t my fault.

Three dead little doves to call your own sit in a cardboard box, and the realization of no letter strikes you like a punch to the gut.

“No letter,” you mumble, arms crossing and fingers digging into your biceps. “Why wasn’t there a letter?”

Your body stumbles out of the front doors, the ladies at the desk calling to you in confusion, and Nikto unlocks the car; opening it. Without another word, you get in.

This isn’t my fault.

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