#easy af meal

[bunny584]

OBSESSED: SHOKO feat THE BOYS (FINALE)

A/N: Well, well, well. Oh how the tables have turned, dear reader. It’s not so easy — juggling two special grades and their personal physician…is it?

S/N: This is it. The pièce de résistance. I was…this is…NO ONE LOOK AT ME AFTER YOU READ THIS. No idea the word count. Long af, though.

C/W:….the trio is their own content warning lol. Mature. 18+, MDNI.

Part I, Part II.

Is this…a dream? 

This must be what it feels like to hear Domain Expansion, Infinite Void.

White static coats Shoko’s brain. She’s breathing underwater. Thinking in molasses. 

It’s a miracle her legs are working — they’re currently trailing behind you and the boys, back to her apartment. 

Her eyes are working, too — they’re attached to the dress rippling and bouncing off your ass. Your hips are a hypnotic pendulum. Swinging back and forth. 

Back and forth. 

The tailwind from your strut is a bad actor. 

Every so often teasing your cotton panties that won the lottery. Kissing up against your pretty petals. Riding along the plump curve of your mounds. Accentuating the intoxicating swell of your hips.

It’s paralyzing. 

You are paralyzing. 

Satoru’s hand is curled around the back of your neck. His azure glow is so pristine, so bright it refracts off your gorgeous cheekbones. Dampening his Limitless and intensifying his Six Eyes. 

Because the first to taste a meal is usually one’s eyes…right?

Shoko can nearly hear the depravity ringing between Satoru’s ears. 

Then there’s Suguru.

An arm is draped around your waist, capturing and releasing the hem of your dress every few seconds. Mindless movements. His sniper-like gaze focused on the apartment door at the end of the hall. 

Cool. Calm. Collected. 

One would think, if you don’t know Suguru well enough. 

His normally, perfectly repressed cursed energy surrounds him. Flickering into the air like campfire embers just waiting for the next gust of wind to erupt. Amethyst and graphite swarm around her best friend — the only indicator of his disintegrating self-control. 

20 steps left until she is expected to produce door keys. The only thing standing between everyone and you. 

This is it.

This is the moment. The one chance you get at ‘doing it right this time.’ 

15 steps. 

There are no more wishes granted. No more genies stuffed into bottles, or whatever. This is it. 

10 steps.

Get your shit together, Ieiri.

7.

Do not squander this on the sidelines.

3.

Shoko wires around the three of you. Stepping ahead to slot the frivolous piece of aluminum standing between her and her wet dream. 

1.

The apartment door flies open. Satoru’s hand moves on autopilot — deepening his grip around your neck. 

His conscious brain recedes. Triple distilled, unadulterated need moves in like a tropical storm. 

Silky strands of your hair plaited in his fingers. 

Wide, warm eyes locked into his. 

Tiny slit in those pouty, siren lips of yours. 

He will dismantle you. Piece by fucking piece. 

Until you’re a babbling, sobbing brook beneath his fingers. Apologizing for being such a cocktease. 

“Satoru…?” 

There’s a change in your voice. 

Fear? Nerves? 

Prey finally realizing who is next on the menu?

Satoru is staring. Fully aware of how disarming his eyes can be. Born with godlike vision and somehow the only thing he can see in the room is you. 

His greed is a threat to National Security. DEFCON Level 1.

His mouth ghosts yours. Barely registering Suguru encasing you from behind. Trailing his palms along your thighs. 

“Safe word, princess.” Satoru maps every ridge, every teeth indent on that gorgeous bottom lip.

“For when you need to tap out.” Suguru augments Satoru’s command. Gentle nip at the tip of your ear and you moan. Bitten back and clipped. 

“Such pretty sounds,” Shoko’s voice is distant. Breathy. Coated in Cabernet. 

“I..don’t—” 

Satoru slices your protest in half. Rolling your bottom lip under his teeth. Biting and licking his way across your pout. At the same time Suguru drops his mouth to your pulse point. 

“Don’t what, sweetheart?” Suguru murmurs into your neck. A filthy fucking whine escapes your lips and Satoru’s fingers go to your nipple. 

Hard. Pert and neglected. Desperate for attention.

Just like you. 

The way you’re panting into Satoru’s mouth. Listless and loose, bending into Suguru’s presence behind you. 

“He gave you an order, baby.” Suguru’s smile is so tender. Almost torturous against your oversensitive skin. 

“Don’t…ah..don’t need a safe word.”

 A weak declaration against Satoru’s kiss. Earning yourself a sharp twist of your sensitive buds. And gifting him a kitten squeal that makes his cock twitch. 

“Ohhhh Suguru, Shoko.  We have a brat on our hands.” He muses, hovering his lips over yours. Satoru pets the steel rod between his legs. Already dewy with his arousal. 

You are so beautiful, trying to resist their coordinated touch. The sound of Suguru’s large hand palming your ass reverberates throughout the room. 

“I’ll teach her some manners.” 

Suguru’s voice trails down your spine. Slow and sickly sweet. Like maple sap dripping down tree bark mid spring. He caresses the hot sting from his spanking. 

“I—I have manners.” Voice as small as your frame engulfed between the 6’3 counterparts. 

“I won’t ask again, princess.” Satoru tilts your chin up to meet his gaze. And Suguru continues sucking kisses into your neck, marking his territory. 

“Uh..mmm..god, S—“ Your eyes flutter closed. An earnest attempt to stay present. And not settle into the fuzzy, warm submission they are baiting you into. 

“Safe word, now.” 

“B—um. Blue? Blue.” Your resolve is about as rigid as cotton. 

“Blue?”

“Well that’s not fair.” 

Shoko and Suguru’s incredulous reactions intertwine with Satoru’s smug chuckle. A dusty rose high on your cheeks. 

You know why you chose Blue. Everyone else does, too. 

“Blue, huh?” Satoru presses a soft kiss on your lips. 

“To match me? Noted, baby.” 

Shoko melts into her couch. Her heartbeat rattles around her skull. With short, ineffective breaths that taste like full bodied red wine. Wet heat surges around her lace thong. 

The way you’re writhing between her best friends’ hands is sinful. 

Gazing up at Satoru like he is Vincent Van Gogh and the Starry Night above you is the product of his paintbrush. 

Incoherent as if Suguru’s fingers put the Sun to bed. Whimpering his name like a prayer. 

Adorable, girl.

God isn’t going to save you here. 

The pads of Shoko’s cool fingers nearly sizzle against her puffy pleasure point. Slick coating her with just one, two, three long stripes against her sticky folds. 

“God...fuck..bring her to me.” The grit in Shoko’s tone scrapes along her voice box. Matching the aggressive pace of her fingers against her needy cunt. 

The boys lock gazes with their third. Cavalier smile tugging against Satoru’s lips. Suguru’s brow touches his hairline. 

Ladies, first. 

“You heard her.” Satoru snakes your arms around his neck and hoists you around his waist in one fluid motion. 

“S—sato—“ He bullies his tongue back into your mouth. No more protesting, gorgeous. 

Slow steps towards Shoko, so he can drink from your well. A sweet, delectable spell dripping from your lips. And if Satoru doesn’t wake up tomorrow morning after eating your forbidden fruit, then so be it. 

Suguru lets himself watch you from a short distance.

His hand can’t stop rubbing his cock. Shamelessly tugging his heavy rod. Burning your little expressions into his mind’s safe. The way your eyebrows come together at the center whenever Satoru bites your bottom lip. Your desperate grabs for air against his relentless kiss. 

“Hi, pretty.” Shoko drawls the moment Satoru settles you down on her lap. Her thigh digs into your soaked, gummy core. Glazing her skin with your drool. 

“Hi, Sho.” Still panting from Satoru’s embrace. So fragile. A harsh breeze could shatter you to stardust. And Shoko pulsates around nothing.

One hand is firm on your hip. The other tracing mindless shapes on your chest. Leaving a poetic cascade of goosebumps in her wake. 

Reflexively, you go to caress Shoko’s shoulders only to be caught by Satoru’s enormous grip. Whipping both of your wrists behind your back. While his other hand toys with the erection straining against his pants.

“She didn’t give you permission to touch, did she princess?” He drops his tone into the shell of your ear.  

“Oh, I—“

“Manners, gorgeous.” A gentle reminder in between smearing kisses along your neck. Shoko hooks her index finger along your neckline. One tug and your mouth-watering tits come into full view. 

“Fucking, hell.”

“God, baby.”

“Perfect…fucking perfect.” 

Satoru, Suguru and Shoko’s praises crash into one another. God took his time with you. Sculpting a fucking masterpiece. 

To be praised. 

To be worshipped. 

To be taken. 

Used. 

Filled. 

“Shoko. I want to hear her.” 

Suguru’s command is guttural. Fist snug around the base of his cock. Shameless about the tears of precum falling down his shaft. 

Shoko’s fingers work their way down to your pulsing clit. You preen into her touch. Pretty, tiny gasps against her cheek. 

“Let it out, baby.” Shoko coos into your ear. Thumbing little circles around your clit. 

You bury your face into her neck. Delicious ache swelling between your legs. Grinding along her slender thigh. Honey seeping around your clothed cunt. 

“S—sho, mmnngh..fuck..” Desperation fans Shoko’s neck. Bucking your hips with your hands restrained. 

“There she is.” 

Suguru’s fist slams to his hilt. Now close enough to cup your perky mound. Rippling and bouncing with every jolt. Feathering his finger over your pebbled bud. 

The sudden touch and velvet voice above you drags your gaze upward. 

And Suguru nearly cums in his hand right then and there. 

Misty eyes, drool covered lips. Breathy pants. Angelic features rewritten by lust. 

“Suguru?” 

“Such a good girl. Keep fucking her thigh like that, baby.” 

Throaty praise in return. Suguru rips his hand away from his angry length. Staving off his finish. 

Not yet. 

They’re not remotely close to being done with you yet.

“She’s so responsive.” Satoru chimes in. Releasing his grip on your wrists. 

Your hands fly to Shoko’s face. Melding your mouth with hers. Leaking precious sounds, from your lips and your sopping wet core. His hand kneads your neglected breast, pinching your nipple every so often. 

Satoru and Suguru palming at your tits. Shoko fucking your mouth with her tongue. You humping Shoko’s leg like a dog in heat.

It’s too much. 

Wave after wave of pleasure crashes into your groin. You nestle into the crook of her neck. Grasping at her thick, brunette locks. 

“S-sho, I’m close, I’m—mmgh..”

“It’s okay pretty,” Shoko husks. Her thumb at a perfect rhythm and pressure.

“You can cum, baby.” Suguru rasps, tugging at your nipple at the same time Satoru smacks the supple flesh he was petting.

“Oh fuck oh fuck—“

The delicious sting from their touches sends you over the edge. And the wire seated deep in your stomach snaps. Hips stuttering to an abrupt stop. 

The room stills. Satoru, Suguru and Shoko studying your micro movements through your peak. So quiet that the walls have to lean in to hear you and your lovers breathing. 

Six eyes laser into your body. Everyone’s appetite for you simultaneously tripling. 

Satoru swipes the back of his hand across his mouth. Subconsciously aware of the pool of saliva forming. His manhood mirroring the trail of drool running down his mouth. 

He’s always been a fan of dessert. 

“I need to taste you.” 

“And I need a front row seat.” Shoko nibbles at your cheek.

Satoru lifts and spins you around on Shoko’s lap in a matter of seconds. You, still gummy and compliant from your orgasm spread your legs weakly over Shoko. Earning you a chorus of praise from your lust-drunk lovers. 

He drops to his knees. His blushing, weeping tip in hand. Pushing your sodden panties to the side. While Shoko cradles your thigh in her hand, holding you open for her best friend. 

Your rose blooms in front of him. Dewy with your slick. Candied scent holding all of Satoru’s senses hostage. 

“Look at how pretty, she is.” He breezes against your swollen pearl. Your petals quiver, and his dick leaks. 

“S—Satoru..please.” 

Satoru’s head is spinning. Entirely drunk off of the sight of you like this. Choking back his own pathetic groans.

His tongue licks a long stripe up your ripe folds. And your taste pollenates his mind for an eternity. An addict with his chosen vice. 

Your hands magnet to his snowy halo. The melody you sing from his kisses and licks could sink any ship. Echoing in Satoru’s and Shoko’s groin. 

Shoko is in a complete haze. Molesting herself numb at the way you undulate against Satoru’s eager tongue. Pitiful little mewls that are worthy of a platinum record.

“Feeling good, gorgeous?” Shoko eggs you on. Quickly sinking into her own threatened orgasm. 

“Y—yes..mmgh so..god..” Paper thin squeals from your lips. 

Crystals line your eyes in response to Satoru’s tongue fucking in and out of your pussy. Suckling your clit. Figures of 8, and 8 and 8 again until your mind is mush. 

Except Suguru refuses to let you get lost at Satoru’s sea. He grips a handful of your hair, whipping your head in his direction.

Both you and Shoko tilt up to see Suguru’s driveling manhood at your eye level. Veiny, heavy. So clearly abused by his hand. Volcanic eruption in his hooded gaze. 

“Hands on my cock, baby.” 

Barely above a whisper, but somehow your body recognizes his authority. 

And you seem genuinely shocked by your visceral obedience. Immediate acquiescence to Surguru’s will. 

An approving grin teases Suguru’s lips. Your hands are comically small wrapped around his length. 

God, he could split you in half. 

Heavy eyelids from Satoru’s agonizing touch, you’re mystical. Gazing into Suguru’s eyes like his soul is nothing but an appetizer. Yours to swallow, digest, play with. 

“Ask nicely.” Suguru grunts, as your eyes rake over his leaky cockhead. Longing for a taste. 

Satoru and Shoko come to a hush. Her fingers slow. Satoru forces himself off of your folds. Somehow knowing the next words to roll off your tongue will shift their brain chemistry, permanently. 

Palatial lashes fan your utterly fucked-out gaze. Swollen lips millimeters away from Suguru’s blunt tip. 

“May I suck your cock, please?” 

Filthy-nasty-dirty-fucking-vulgar noises fill the room, while you swirl Suguru’s cum covered head around your tongue.

“Fuck. Your lips baby.” He hisses, his hips piston into your pretty, accepting mouth. 

“So messy, princess.” Satoru murmurs into your swollen cunt, slipping his fingers past your tight ringlet.

Beautiful gurgles around Suguru’s shaft. Crystalline streams of spit glazing your puffy tits. 

You buck into Satoru at a similar, haphazard pace that he strokes his thick rod. Shoko sinks her teeth into your shoulder. 

“G-gonna c..gonna—“ high pitched, broken warnings spill from your lips. Just as a blinding wave of electricity surges down Shoko’s legs — curling her pedicure inward. 

“Come on, pretty girl. Cum for me.” 

Suguru’s decadent baritone sends both you and Shoko over the hot edge. A cacophony of huffs and whines, coating the walls in your shared ecstasy. Spraying your essence all over Satoru’s face. 

He’s slow to stand. Savoring remnants of your peak. He and Suguru exchange sordid glances. Sharing the same thought.

Pretty little doll. 

Loose limbed and spent in Shoko’s lap. Hair mused. So deeply entrenched into sub space you’ll need to sleep it off of to come to your senses. 

A work of art, you are. 

But not quite broken, yet. 

“It’s our turn now, little one.” Deep and measured. Thick with want. Suguru lifts you by your arms off of Shoko’s lap. 

His back lays flush against the couch. You straddle his muscular lap. Satoru stands directly behind you. 

Suguru’s manhood is rigid. You’d have to impale yourself on him to get any closer. Similarly, Satoru’s length makes itself very present along the curve of your spine. 

“Look at me.” Satoru’s throaty demand comes from above your head. 

Obedience is the only language you can currently speak, so you tilt back. Soaking in the celestial boy behind you. Closer to God than Man, from this vantage point. 

“You want to taste yourself, baby?” 

A rhetorical question from Satoru, but you still bobble your head in an eager yes. 

“Such a desperate little puppy, aren’t you?” Suguru mocks you, taking one of your puffy nipples into his mouth. 

“She is.” 

Satoru affirms in between spearing your mouth with his warm muscle. Kissing the breath directly from your lungs until you’re air hungry and clawing at his neck. Leaving red streaks on his pale skin. 

Shoko has since poured herself another glass of red wine. Settling herself on the long arm of her couch. 

‘Far enough to drown into her own spiral. Close enough to register everything they do to you in the the most permanent part of her mind.’

Dèjá Vu.

But this lifetime? This reiteration of events? It’s fucking sublime. 

Shoko’s lips curl into a cheshire smile against the rim of her glass. Hedonistic on every single level known to man and she wouldn’t have it any another way. 

Her eyes flicker down to where Suguru’s hands are eclipsing your hips. And Satoru’s hands are cradled into the small of your waist. Hovering you over Suguru’s cock. The weapon of mass destruction that it is. 

“Suguru…Suguru it won’t…” Beautiful little panic ascending in pitch. 

“It won’t, what baby?” He teases. Eyes fixed on you like the apex predator he is. 

Crimson erupts from the tip of your nose to the tips of your ears. Fluttering away from his quicksand gaze. 

“What’s the matter, pretty? Don’t tell me you think you can’t handle—“

“I can handle it—I can…handle it.” You cut Satoru’s taunt down, convincing absolutely no one in the room— including yourself. 

But the shred of pride you have left comes forward. Bracing your hands on Suguru’s flexed shoulders. Digging little crescent moons into his olive skin. 

He can barely bite back the groan in his throat when your wet heat drags along his cockhead. 

Twitching around your opening. 

Feigning for entry. 

“Go ahead, little one.” 

“You can do it, baby.” 

“Oh FUCK..GOD.” Your volume is nothing in comparison to the fire incinerating your plush walls. Stretching your womanhood in a way that’s ungodly. 

Suguru is blinding. 

Flashing lights. Black spots in the visual field. Floaters everywhere kind of blinding. The prior encouragement from your lovers did nothing to soften his blow. 

Knowing this would be the result of you trying to work his inhuman length inside yourself, Suguru buries himself in one side of your neck. Satoru mirrors his action on the other side. 

Gentle adoration. Tender kisses. Light caresses to dull the pain. 

“Such a good girl.”

“I knew you could take it, princess.”

“You’re doing so well for me, pretty girl.”

Suguru rocks his hips in a slow, dreamy pace. Back and forth. Encouraging your body to reset around him. And the pressure. The delicious fucking fullness from his cock is mind numbing. 

“R—ready.” 

Barely loud enough to register. But Suguru could hear your red blood cells colliding with one another in your veins if you keep him next to you long enough. 

“Eyes on me when I’m inside you, sweetheart.” 

“Yes sir.”

The smile on his lips is no where near as tantalizing as the smile in his crushed velvet eyes. 

And for a moment that is going to be on cinematic repeat in everyone’s mind — Suguru thrusts into you like a man trying to repopulate earth. Never once letting you break his eye-contact. 

Melodic sounds of bodies smacking together ring throughout the room. Beautiful ripples of flesh, like soft waves during low tide. Your wet sex colliding with his. Him locking you into place because nothing else exists at this moment. 

Both Satoru and Shoko’s jaws are slack. Satoru can’t even bring himself to stroke his length thrashing wildly in his hands. 

This is hypnotizing. 

A motion picture worthy of an Oscar. 

You can feel Suguru recreating the shape of your soul. With each thrust. Deliberate. Deep. Ensuring that he will be a part of you, permanently. 

“God, ngh Su—fuck..purple..” unintelligible words, incoherent sounds.  You’re grasping at rescue from this pleasure. 

“Hah..” Suguru’s serrated breaths kiss your lips. “Try again.”

“Suguru, please. I’m cu—I’m pink..pink.”  

“Wrong color, princess.” Satoru’s husks above you. Tears of his thick cum streaming steady down his shaft. 

Suguru’s bucks into you relentlessly now. Chasing the high you both are riding. Shredding what consciousness you have left. Not that you wanted it, not that you needed it. 

“Fuck.” 

Suguru’s hips come to a screeching halt. Floating over Shoko’s cushion. Painting your warm walls with his seed. With you filling his lap with your dew. Delirious, choppy intakes of air between your lips and his. 

Momentarily forgetting your audience, you instinctively fall into his chest. Every single muscle in your body, suddenly without tone. 

Satoru’s mouth is ajar. 

Still not completely comprehending the fact that he just came — hands free — watching his best friend rail the conscious mind out of you. 

“Blanket, Satoru.” Shoko quietly nudges from her position on the couch. 

She can’t blame him for being stunned in place. Her mind is still reeling at the dessert her eyes just feasted on. 

“Come here, baby.” Suguru murmurs. Working himself out of you, while Satoru drapes you in Shoko’s throw. 

“Thank you.” A tiny chuckle escapes your lips. Cozying into Suguru’s arms. They should be proud of your manners. 

And as if you said your cheeky thought out loud, your three lovers break into soft laughter. 

“Wait here.” Satoru presses a chaste kiss to your damp forehead. Disappearing into Shoko’s bathroom a moment after. 

A small sigh of relief tumbles out of her when she hears the familiar sound of bath water running. 

Satoru must’ve done this before. Once or twice.

Suguru, too. 

Judging by the way he’s whispering sweet affirmations in your ear. Lulling you to sleep. In his warm, safe embrace. 

She’s never seen her friend like this. 

“Girls! Bath time!” Satoru beckons from the bathroom. 

His voice rustles you out of your post coital daze. Nestling deeper into the crook of Suguru’s neck. Shoko watches the way his eyes rest on your flushed face; stroking his hand along your arm. Intermittently pressing kisses along your hairline. 

An enchanting, glass doll they were so eager to shatter just a moment ago. 

“Ready, baby?” 

Suguru murmurs into your ear. And Shoko just knows he’s hoping for a no. Silently praying for more time with you, pliant in his arms like this.

“Mmhm.” Your puffy lips curl up into a sleepy smile. Glossy-eyed, when you finally pull your heavy lids open. 

Suguru’s breath catches in his throat. 

Shoko’s heart rattles around its bony cage.

How do you do this?  

How do you make it so easy to trip and fall so hopelessly in love with you with a bat of an eyelash? 

“…I get it guys, but the water will get cold. And that would be a shame. Because this bath is, perfect.”  

Satoru teases from the bedroom doorway. Startling Shoko and Suguru out of the trance you unintentionally put them in. 

“You don’t have to carry me!” A half-protest bubbles from your lips when Suguru stands with you wrapped up in Shoko’s favorite blanket.

“Shhh, let me do this sweet girl.” He coos, for your ears only. Navigating around Satoru’s lean stature. 

Shoko follows closely behind him, itching for her alone time with you. 

“You’re going to let her feet touch the ground, Suguru?!” 

Her sarcasm is followed by light-hearted laughter settling around your bodies. 

The four of you in tandem like a world class orchestra. Shoko is already lamenting waking up from this dream. 

“Not if I can help it.” Suguru sets you down on the kitchen sink. Nudging enough space for his muscular hips between your legs. 

He cradles your chin in his hand. Taking as many butterfly kisses as you’ll allow.

“Mmm, goodnight, Suguru.”

His name rolls sweet and soft off of your tongue. Like a dark chocolate truffle, and suddenly Shoko wishes her name was Suguru. 

Satoru does too. Judging by the way he yanks his counterpart away from you. His eyes caress your face before his hand does.

“How are you feeling, princess?” 

Hushed and saccharine. Doting. As if a decibel too loud is akin to Hollow Purple. Circling his fingers around your thighs. 

How foreign. 

Shoko can almost taste Satoru’s concern. Attentive in a way that’s inconceivable. 

From her vantage point, she watches you ensnare Satoru in those big, helpless doe eyes. Tempting him to fuck the living daylight out of you (again) but also handle you like a butterfly with a broken wing. 

“Just a bit worn out, pretty boy.” Said with a dreamy little laugh. And Satoru would chase your voice into the clouds if he could. 

He drapes your arms around his neck and you’re putty in his hands. 

“Don’t look at me like that, baby.” He grazes the corner of your lips with his. A dull, insistent ache welling between Shoko’s legs. 

You’re irresistible like this. 

“Unless you want us to wear you out, again.” 

“Satoru!” Your tiny, ineffectual fists slam against Satoru’s pecs. Making the trio even more fond of you. 

Their muse.

“Alright boys, I can take it from here.” 

Unhurried but finite, Shoko shoos her best friends out of the bathroom. Not before Satoru can steal one last kiss from your swollen lips.  

In a matter of minutes Shoko is settled in a sea of warm, eucalyptus bubbles. The light sheen of essential oil grazing her skin, still glimmering with remnants of love-making. 

Her eyes ride the dips and swells of your alluring lines. 

Balmy skin decorated with lust-drunk imprints from Satoru, Suguru and herself. Hand prints. Tiny crescent moons from fingernails. Ellipses of bite marks. A kaleidoscope of red, blue, deep purple. Living, breathing residue of the desperation — the need — you so easily draw from them. 

“Such a pretty girl.” 

You flush under Shoko’s praise. Newly stroked desire bubbling in the back of her throat. You’re so full of averted gazes and warmed cheeks. Twiddling your thumbs. Tentatively shifting a few paces away from the bathtub. 

So shy, now. It’s adorable. 

“Come here, baby.” Shoko curls her fingers inward.

“Okay.” Your response high and thin. Feet moving without resistance. 

Obedient little doll. 

Shoko’s wet dreams couldn’t even come up with a vision this decadent. You’re an oil painting. Soft on the hands, even softer on the eyes. 

You nestle in the warm waters between Shokos legs. Her nipples pebble against your supple flesh. Resting the back of your head on her chest. A lock-in-key fit. 

Comfortable, serene quiet sheaths the room around you. And Shoko is soaring. 

“I like you like this.” She presses a small kiss against your temple. 

“Like what?” You whisper.

Shoko’s hands travel up your navel, cupping your sensitive tits. You arch into her touch. Kitten mewls escape you. So responsive. 

“Soft.” Your nipples stiffen between her thumb and index finger. 

“Vulnerable…a little broken.” Shoko continues. Catching your needy gaze. Pupils blown to full moons. She hovers her lips over yours. Already parted, hanging open. Ready to receive. 

“Shoko.” 

Such a beautiful, pitiful little whine. Tilting your chin up, chasing Shoko’s lips. But she maintains the minimal distance. Instead, kneading your mounds. Drawing a gorgeous melody of whimpers; squirming beneath her ministrations. 

“I like being the one to put your pieces back together,” Shoko teases, dropping her tone. And you draw her in like a moth to flame. 

Shoko’s lips slot into yours with ease. Puzzle pieces meant to fit. She swipes her tongue over yours. Nibbles along your puffy bottom lip.

You’re delicious. 

And panting, when Shoko finally pulls away. Aurora borealis in your eyes. Sparkling. Expansive. 

And even though you are putty in her hands right now. Docile and pliant, hanging on every brush of a finger, every kiss. Shoko is falling.

Free falling.

Without a safety stop in sight. 

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[pinkroseblooms]

Boy Toy

Sugar baby!Toji Fushiguro x Sugar mama!f!Reader

Summary: You try to break things off with Toji; needless to say, he does not take it well. wc: 5.1 Warnings and tags: this story contains smut, dirty talk, cursing, rough sex, begging, emotional manipulation, toxic behavior/relationships, some soft!dom/bratty!sub elements, a clingyyandere!toji, possessive behavior, obsessive love, some angst, some fluff, all twisted af.

a/n: I see a lot of Sugar daddy!Toji content and wanted to switch things up a bit with some emotional feels. I also ended up listening to Rick Montgomery's "Boy Toy" on repeat and got ideas. Personally I headcanon that if Toji ever did somehow develop genuine love for another person it wouldn't necessarily help him chill out this time around, he'd just become more unhinged.

His things are in a pile, close to the solid red oak door; they’ve been packed away in brand new luggage carriers and on top is the duffle bag Toji had initially used to carry his stuff in for overnight stays.

If it were anyone else, Toji would have expected the various articles of clothing and personal items that had steadily accumulated inside your spacious home to be thrown out carelessly like trash on your equally spacious lawn. That or burning in the firepit. 

If it was anyone else but you, it’s what Toji would have expected, but you weren’t petty that way; even now as you stand before him, arms crossed, gaze almost blank, you radiate a certain measure of dignity. It’s one of those things Toji’s come to admire about you over the past year. It’s effortless, that magnetizing charm you exude; he liked it right away.

“You can keep the bags, sell them if you want.” Your lips form a small but rueful smile. “I sent you a check; call it a severance fee.”

“I thought I didn’t work for you anymore.”

Toji hasn’t considered you a client in months, though really, a mark was more accurate. You were disgustingly wealthy with a cute face and that was all he needed to pounce on the offer to be your bodyguard and occasional companion to the odd social events. Even cleaned up and polished, Toji was able to keep others away in droves, exactly what you were aiming for; you found social obligations tedious and his handsome yet intimidating presence kept everyone around you from lingering too long and insisting on taking up too much of your time and attention. Toji spent the first three or so months in your company essentially as an employee and he was satisfied with the arrangement. It would have been so easy and simple, it should have been, had you not burrowed your way into his head, like a bullet piercing bone. 

Dammit he never should have fucked you. Toji had every intention of keeping things professional. He should have kept his distance, he certainly shouldn’t have let his fingers trace your skin after zipping up your dress, and damn you by the way for looking over your shoulder at him with those pretty doe eyes and not telling him off when the second you caught Toji leaning in, almost like he wasn’t realizing he was doing it, to get a whiff of your scent mixed with the perfume he had said was his favorite. 

“You don’t have to keep the charade up anymore; it’s insulting at this point. I won’t force you to stay here.”

“You’re dumping me.”

“No. That would mean we were actually dating. Toji…Fushiguro-san, I made a mistake.” You’re almost talking to yourself as you look over Toji’s tensed shoulders to the entrance of your home. “I was fooling myself, thinking you could open your heart to me. But, I knew what I signed up for. So, no, I won’t leave you without any job security until you find your next meal ticket.”

“You’re not-”

“I heard you. Please, it’s not like you to back track on your words, so don’t start on my account.”

Toji was bragging over the phone, giving a verbal middle finger to an asshole of a former employer who demanded Toji’s services for a hit. You overheard him refer to you as a “piggy bank” with a pretty face, among other things. Shortly after ending the call, Toji left to work out (he couldn’t get too lazy, got to keep in shape to protect his favorite girl) and grab some food (on your card) only to return to this. You didn't even give Toji a chance to greet you with the usual flurry of kisses and a bear hug before telling him point blank he was leaving and now.

Even as Toji struggles to wrap his mind around your abrupt change in demeanor, with that practiced look of almost serene impassivity, you look so good to him, wearing an oversized sweatshirt and tiny bike shorts. You always dress down at home, in comfy, baggy things. Toji supposes you packed away all the sweatshirts you’ve collected from him with everything else of his. 

“You won’t even let me apologize?” Toji stands stiffly in the foyer, next to the bags; behind him is the front door, still open, as if waiting for him to step outside. “It was all shit talking. I didn’t mean how it sounded.”

“That doesn’t make it better and it’s not just that. You’ve been hot and cold lately. Admit it: you can’t bring yourself to acknowledge me as anything but an obligation.” You exhale slowly, rubbing your temple. “I’ve tried to be understanding; you lost your wife and I realized it would be hard. I knew that, I knew there was a chance that no matter how close we became, I was never going to be enough for you.”

You put up a good front, but Toji can recognize the faint tremble in your voice, see how your jaw locks slightly, as though you’re holding back curses. He’s hurt you. 

“Baby, c’mere?” Toji opens his arms with a pleading half smile. “You’ve been stressed lately, that’s all. You’ve been working hard and I haven’t been showing my appreciation properly, is that it?”

“Oh spare me. Listen, I won’t swear revenge or sick henchmen on your trail.” You go on, calm as can be, not budging an inch. “The check won’t bounce and all your things are there; if I missed anything, I’ll send it to you. You’re free to go.”

Toji stares at you in disbelief, arms dropping to his sides. You could have just as easily said "you're dismissed" with that cutting tone of yours.

“Are you fucking serious?” 

When you fail to respond, he suddenly turns from you, but not to storm off. Instead, Toji slams the front door closed so hard, it’s a wonder the whole structure didn’t come crashing down. You don’t so much as flinch when Toji strides up to get in your face.

“I want my stuff out of these bags.” he snarls. "Now."

“There’s no need to make a scene. It’s not like you’ll be without a benefactor for long; I bet you could find another meal ticket just walking down my driveway. The whole neighborhood is full of lonely rich women, you can have your pick.”

“You’re not a meal ticket. You know that, you know I didn’t mean it dammit!”

“Enough.” You raise a hand up, your voice clipped. “Fushiguro-san, you have your things, plenty of money, and my own promise to leave you in peace. What more could you possibly want? What exactly is it that you’re holding out for? You don’t expect me to fund you indefinitely, I’m sure.”

"Why are you acting like this? Like you don't even give a shit?"

Toji’s hands clenched into fists; he’s radiating power and murderous intent, but you don’t look swayed or even scared. You know he wouldn’t strike you. Just the idea sickens him; no, it’s not you he’s actually angry with. 

“I’m a fucking idiot who wanted to show off, okay? Is that what you wanted to hear? Fine. Now we’re gonna talk this out like adults, I’ll put this shit back-"

“No, you will not. I want it gone. I want you gone. Don’t you understand?” You tell him firmly, eyes finally averting to the pile of bags. Toji’s puffed chest deflates at the sadness that finally touches your inflection. “I’m disappointed enough as it is; can’t you do this one thing for my sake? Why are you insisting on dragging this out?”

“I want to put it all back.” Toji blurts out stubbornly, so loud his voice echoes in the high ceilings. “You can’t do this to me, I want to stay.”

“Excuse me?” You snap. “What exactly am I ‘doing to you’?”

“Come on, this is so silly, kicking me out over a misunderstanding.” Toji lowers his voice, a smile coming to his lips as he attempts to charm you once again, hands coming up to gently grasp your shoulders. “You’re breakin’ my heart here. You said it yourself, it’s a been over a year, you know me-”

“Do I?”

“Yes!” Toji steps forward, a strained grin on his lips. “You do. You know me and you know you’re my best girl.”

“Out of all the others?”

“Best and only; I haven’t been with anyone else in months.” Toji rubs his hands over your arms but you only give him a look of derision. “I’m not lying; tell you the truth, ever since we went out to the beach, it’s only been you. Remember that trip?” he grins softly, nuzzles your temple; he knows you want to lean into him, you’re just being stubborn. How adorable. He loves when you get grumpy and need his help relaxing. “I showed you how to make a fire and we fell asleep outside on the hammock. That night was something else...you’ve been the only one ever since. Baby, I swear, there haven't been any other women.” 

Toji inches closer, hands shaking slightly where they grip your shoulders; his love bites are still visible, some more faint than others; his arms ache to hold you. You’re so close, so what’s with this wall you’re putting up? 

"I want to believe that."

"It's the truth."

Toji isn’t sure how or when it began, but before he knew it, you were calling just to talk and ask how he was doing, if he needed anything. You requested he join you not just for meetings as extra muscle or posing as a date, but on walks and meals, having conversations about the weather to debates about the nature of man to whether toast was better with jelly or jam. You’d take Toji out randomly on shopping trips and end up buying him pretty much anything that caught his eye. Anything Toji wanted, he got, and along with it you increasingly showered him with praise and affection. 

When the sex began Toji thought he got you out of his system the first time, only to end up not just repeating these trysts, but staying longer and longer after he fucked your brains out. It was borderline embarrassing, how quickly Toji found himself lulled in by your pillowtalk as you encouraged him to sleep in, promising you’d have breakfast ready for him in the morning. Sometimes, Toji would come over when you weren’t even home with the spare keys you gifted him and promptly burrow himself in your bed until you were due home. The whole room smelled sweet and it was so cozy being wrapped in the down blankets. Toji's eyelids would get heavier as he wallowed in your scented sheets ike a pig rolling in mud until the combined aromas of your perfumes, lotions, and natural scent clung to his nostrils, soothing and oddly familiar; within minutes Toji would be out like a light. After some of the best rest he had ever gotten, Toji would wake up to you stroking his head, petting him like a dog, and asking him what he would like for dinner. 

Eventually, inevitably, came the point of no return. During that beach trip Toji told you about his past; he didn’t go into too much detail, mainly that he had loved someone and he was pretty sure lightning only struck once. You didn’t get jealous or angry; you simply kissed his knuckles and put your hand over his, not saying much of anything while Toji spoke. That night on the beach you held his hand and allowed him to reminisce at his own pace into the early hours of the morning, until he was too exhausted to do anything else but hold you and the two of you stayed that way until noon.

That peaceful, almost unreal night, Toji realized you actually gave a shit about him and he didn’t know what to do with that. Regardless, you made it clear you didn’t expect to own his heart and soul. You only promised to take care of him. 

“I was being stubborn, you know how I get sometimes. You’re my one and only, baby, can’t we just forget about it?”

“I want you to leave.”

“No.”

“It wasn’t a request.”

“No!”

Toji’s hands cup your cheeks and he winces at the disgust in your eyes; why are you looking at him like that? 

“Okay, okay, let me make it up.” Toji’s voice is sweet as pie; he leans in, practically purring in your ear. “Let’s go upstairs. I’ll show you how sorry I am.”

“Get. Off. I knew you were shameless, but this is...”

You might as well have slapped him across the face; Toji’s smile falls as you glare like he’s some repulsive insect, a leech, like the thought of him touching you is making your skin crawl.

Toji’s hands retract from your face, expression blank. “You’re really serious.”

“Don’t give me that kicked puppy look. As if you don’t have women on speed dial to call up. Why don’t you make up with one of your other meal tickets? I’m sure they’ll have forgiven you by now for however you wronged them-”

“I told you there isn’t anyone else. Don’t do this.” Toji mutters, head hanging; his chest throbs, he can feel sweat trickle down his temple. “Don’t make me go.”

It’s doubtful you could forcibly remove Toji from your presence, but that’s beside the point. It doesn’t mean anything if you don’t want him. 

“I’m sorry.”

“Apology accepted.”

“No, I’m really sorry.” Toji falls to his knees. “Don’t make me go.”

“Hey, wait, what are you…?”

Toji wraps his arms around your thighs, face pressed into your waist; you stiffen but he hangs on tighter, fingers digging into your hips almost painfully.

“Please, don’t make me. I wanna go upstairs, back to our bed. Listen, I,” Toji pries himself away from you just enough so he can look at you with glassy eyes. He’s panicking now, babbling and frantic as you try to pry off his arms. “Stop that! Baby, I got all messed up about getting too attached and I-I didn’t mean anything I said, you gotta believe me.”

“Toji, let go!” 

A cold sweat makes Toji’s already tight shirt stick to his tensed back muscles; he feels like he’s being choked. How could you do this to him? All he wants is to stay with you, whether it’s as a bodyguard, a hired companion, a fuck toy, hell, he’ll settle for being your pet if that’s what it takes to get you to take him back. 

"You promised you'd take care of me." he mutters, ignoring your vain attempts at freeing yourself from his unyielding hold. "I don't...want it to be anyone else."

Toji won’t let you go. You’ve made him lazy and spoiled with your pampering; he doesn’t have to work if he doesn’t want to, never has to worry about money or food or rent, and he never has to wake up alone anymore. Whether Toji’s angry, tired, bored, or as of late, happy, you’re the first person he thinks of. You give him everything and now you’re trying to cut him off.

"You let me go right now!" You slap at his shoulders, try to pull back his head from where it's pressed into your midsection. "Are you even listening?!"

With a distressed moan, Toji nuzzles your tummy, kisses the skin peeking out from your sweatshirt riding up under his forearms; his rough hands relax their grasp a fraction to caress your hips. 

“Let me stay. I won’t answer calls from my old bosses, I’ll quit betting. If I look at another woman, gouge my eyes out. All you have to do is tell me how to fix things.” Toji smiles at you, one he knows makes women weak in the knees. “Don’t be mad at me anymore. I’ll make it up, I swear. I’ll do anything you want.” he promises between kisses and nips to your skin. “Why are we wasting time arguing? You know, I can make you feel so good. My poor baby, spending all day working so damn hard; you deserve better. I'll help take the edge off...you’d like that, wouldn’t you? I can help, just-”

“Toji, stop-”

“Just let me dammit!” 

Toji feels you freeze up; you’re looking back at him with wide eyes. His stomach drops like a rock.

“Sorry…I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to yell at you.”

No. Now you look scared, maybe a bit concerned; is that for him? Toji can feel some warmth creeping into his chest in spite of everything; you’re so good to him. You went to so much trouble for him and he has no idea why. 

You can’t do this. You can’t treat him like a thing to be cherished and then take it all away. Toji just wants things to go back to how they were that morning, with you feeding him berries and syrup drenched pieces of fluffy pancakes, giving him teasing kisses in between each bite, asking what his plans were for the day as he lounges in your lap, wondering what he did to deserve to be so content and full and happy. You made him so happy.

“Shit.” Toji sniffs; he can feel them coming but can’t stop the tears leaking from his eyes. “Shit.” he curses again, bowing his head until it’s resting against your tummy again. “You can’t…you can’t leave me. I won’t let you. I won’t let you abandon me. I can’t-”

“Toji, calm down.” Your voice softens considerably. “Look, do you understand why I’m upset with you?”

“I know, I know I fucked up okay?” Toji croaks, still clinging to your legs. “So what the fuck am I supposed to do, huh? I already said I would do anything you want, so just tell me!”

“Sh, come on, breathe. I need you to calm down, alright?” You bend at the waist slightly, to card your fingers through his damp hair. “Okay, I believe you. I do. I believe you, Toji.”

“Are you gonna kick me out still?”

“No, I won’t for the time being. We can sit down and talk about-whoa!”

Toji wastes no time; he has you lifted off the ground in his arms. You quickly wrap your arms around his shoulders as he makes a beeline for the stairs.

“Slow down!” You glance backward in disbelief at how easily he bounds up the carpet steps. “How are you so strong? Don’t drop me, okay?”

But Toji doesn’t answer; he practically bolts, finally reaching the next level, races down the hallway until he’s at the door to your-the bedroom he and you share. Toji’s heavy boot easily kicks the door open, somehow without breaking it off the hinges; in record time you’re on the bed, but shockingly, Toji doesn’t start stripping you down.

“Toji?” You ask tentatively; he seems fairly out of it and you can’t help feel worried. “Toji, what are you doing?”

“Baby, I’m tired. Let’s just go to bed, huh?” 

Toji kicks off his boots, gently sits you down in the middle of the mattress among the fluffy pillows and the cheap plush bunny he won for you at a crane machine. Nearly hyperventilating, Toji climbs into bed after you, snatches the sheets and comforter to wrap around the two of you in a soft cocoon. Toji grabs you, cradling you in close as he tries to even out his breathing; for a fleeting second you wonder if this is what stuffed animals felt, if they could become sentient, when children held them tight for comfort. Your attention is brought back by the man rubbing his face into your hair insistently, as if he could tell your mind had briefly wandered.

“Hey, are you-?”

“Don’t make me go.” Toji cuts you off hoarsely. “You love me, right?”

“I do.”

“Say it.”

“I do love you.” You confess sincerely, words muffled slightly due to your face being squished into his chest; his heart is beating a mile and minute. “I was hurt, alright? I want to be good to you, Toji. You have to let me though; you’re not the type to dance around an issue. I just want you to be honest with me and yourself.”

“Yes, yes, I want that. You’re so good to me, baby, thank you.” Toji wraps his legs around yours; if there was a way for you to mold into him he’d make it happen. “Can I move my stuff back in?”

“I…” You hesitate. “Maybe we’re moving too fast.”

“What? No we aren’t. If anything, we're not moving fast enough. Are you still thinking of leaving?” Toji grabs your face in his hands, forcing you to look at him; his eyes look crazed. “You’re not right? You just fucking said you loved me-!”

“Hey, hey.” You put your hands over his gently. “If you really meant what you said before, you have to listen and be good. Can you do that for me?”

Toji nods quickly. You smile for him, finally, and it's a sight for sore eyes. How do you always look so pretty? Toji’s chest throbs and he hugs you, making your ear press against his heart; you can hear it, right? It almost stopped dead when you were glowering at him, Toji still can't believe he was so close to losing this. It's not going to happen again.

“I wanna touch you.”

Toji separates from you as abruptly as he had squeezed you to him; he hovers above you, tugging on the band of your shorts, your panties. He groans pitifully when you still look unsure. Toji hikes your legs up until your ass is pressed to his chest and he’s face to face with your pussy, still covered up. That won’t do: wordlessly, he rips the seams of your shorts apart and pulls your panties to the side. Gently spreading your pussy lips with his fingers, Toji makes sure to look you in the eyes while he lets a long trail of spit trickle from his tongue to your exposed clit. 

“See?” he licks a long strip over your slit, salivating at the taste. “I’m drooling for it, just like a dog….heh, I can be your dog. Is that what you want? I’ll fetch and roll over and beg.” he traces his tongue around your swollen clit. “All you gotta do is ask.”

You can barely form words, forget making requests, as Toji slobbers, licking and sucking until you’re dripping wet. Your hands grip the pillows and your head rolls back and forth; you can hardly speak and you’re more squealing than moaning when Toji starts using his fingers to fuck your soaked pussy.

“I’m loyal too. You’re not ever getting rid of me.” 

Toji pulls back, kisses and nips the inside of your thigh as he watches his fingers disappear inside you over and over again. He’s smiling down at you, dumbly, in a daze as you let out soft cries with every pump of his wrist, every time his thumb rubs a touch too hard on your clit. He’s the only one who gets to see you like this, composure gone, face flushed, eyes wide, hardly able to do more than moan and whine at his touches. Toji’s smile turns devilish; he purposefully pulls his fingers out and shoves them back in to draw out the squelch sounds from how wet he’s made you. He slowly drags his fingers out all the way and you inhale sharply from the sensation.

“It’s my turn to spoil you.”

Toji lowers your hips down on the sheets and quickly shrugs off his sweatpants and underwear; his cock bobs when it’s released and you’re a bit shocked at how hard he is despite not touching himself.

“Let me fuck you.” Toji rocks his hips, cock over the inside of your thigh. “You still want me, right?”

And if you think he’s going to stop at one round, if you think for a second one time is going to be enough and you somehow still plan to have him out on his ass, maybe you don’t know him. Toji’s fingers dig into your ass; he’s rutting now, throbbing and dripping precum all over you and the bedspread. It brings a twisted grin to his face, like he’s marking his territory. After all, this is where he belongs. If you won’t be persuaded by his touch and words alone, Toji has other ways, he just doesn't want to resort to making you afraid of him. 

Because he meant exactly what he said: you're not getting rid of him. If you try to, Toji will just come back. If you run, he'll chase, if you hide, he'll come looking. You've made him into this.

“’M being good, yeah?” Toji lowers his head to your chest to slobber over your nipples next, barely able to speak with his lips sucking and his tongue flicking over them. “I can keep making you feel good, just let me fuck you, let me put in in, let me wreck you-”

“Toji, I want to ride your cock tonight.” You play with his hair and kiss his jaw. “Can I?”

Toji doesn’t hesitate; he throws himself back to lie on your pillows, getting even harder as your scent hits him. He licks his lips in anticipation as you straddle him, stroking him once before lining the tip up with your pussy. Toji’s eyes roll in the back of his head as you slowly sink down, clenching tight; he has to grab at the sheets and force himself to be still, has to keep telling himself this is for you, he’s going to go at your pace and show you how good he can be, obedient and careful. You’ve got him wrapped around your finger and he loves it-

“It almost hurts. You're so hard.” You gasp when you’re fully seated on his cock. “Oh, Toji…are you going to cum soon?”

“Nah, don’t worry about that baby.” Toji grins up at you, face flushed and hands shaking as they cling to the pillowcase. “So good…it feels so fucking good when I’m all the way inside. Go on, use my cock to cum, ride me until your pussy can’t take it.”

You tilt your hips so the tip of Toji’s cock rubs against that spot that makes you see stars and your clit gets rubbed against him with every thrust. At first you have your hands over his chest, but when Toji tries to slide his hands up to grab at your tits, you stop him.

“Huh?”

“No, you don’t get to touch me.” You pant out, gently but firmly holding Toji’’s hands above his head. “Tha-that’s your punishment.”

Toji’s brow furrows; he’s practically pouting. He knows he said "anything", but he wants to touch you so badly. Your tits look good enough to eat, nipples slick and begging to be played with, and your skin feels like silk on his fingers. Toji watches, biting the inside of his cheek, tasting blood when you start bouncing, thighs taut and face contorted in pleasure as you get closer and closer to making a mess on his lap.

“Baby,” Toji groans. “Come on, let me, you’re close right? It’ll feel better.”

“I can cum like this.” You say playfully as you tap his pursed lips with one finger. “You said you'd be good.”

“Just wanna touch you....” Toji’s hands twitch but he doesn’t shake off your grip; he raises his hips and you let out a whine. “Please?"

You stop moving and Toji grits his teeth, staring at you with wide eyes. 

“Hey…why did you stop?” 

“Sorry,” You smile in genuine delight. “You’re really adorable, you know that?”

“Fuck, keep goin’,” Toji nibbles the tip of your finger before you pull it away. “Come on, keep making my dick wet,”

“So cute.” You cup his face and press a long, loving kiss to his forehead. “I love you, Toji, I really do.”

Toji can’t stop himself; he yanks you down, traps you in his arms and thrusts up. 

“Ah!” 

“Sorry, ‘m sorry baby. I gotta,” Toji slurs. “Ah fuck it.”

You shriek as Toji flips you over; he has your legs spread and lowers his face down to suck and kiss and bite at your breasts, slamming his cock as deep inside your pussy as he can go. He briefly touches your hair, patting your head as you scream and writhe, smiling down at you so warmly even as his cock splits you open.

“Can’t help it. Need it, need this so fucking bad.” 

Toji latches onto your neck, sucking so hard you think he might tear the skin; you cry out and your nails accidentally scratch long, red lines down his back and shoulders. You’re clawing and sobbing, completely overwhelmed underneath him. He’s fucking you like an animal with no regard for pacing or rhythm, holding you down and open for him to slam his cock inside your swollen little pussy. Toji straightens up to grind himself into you just the way he knows you like best, gently rubbing away at your clit, smirking at the way you gush around his cock. You’re so pretty like this, flushed and messy for him.

“Tell me again. Tell me you love me and I’ll make you cum so hard your legs shake.”

“Love you,” You gasp, arms wrapping around Toji’s bulging neck, drawing him in closer; you press kisses over his cheeks, nose, chin. “I love you, I-ah!”

Toji is done being patient; he keeps his thumb pressed down on your clit, rubbing it harshly as he grinds his cock right into that spot, deep and hard; you’re never going to forget how his cock feels. Toji kisses you none too gently, lips prying your mouth open as he shoves his tongue down your throat; he really doesn’t even mean to be rough this time. The desire to devour you is overtaking him. 

He’s so close. Your pussy’s soaking, his head’s spinning; just before Toji’s about to cum, you muster up enough energy to hold him back tightly and pet his hair, moaning softly into the kiss, wrapping your legs around his waist. Toji wanted to last longer, but it’s too much. Abruptly, he breaks the kiss and his mouth goes to your jugular; Toji swears he can feel your pulse under his teeth.

“Cum inside me.” You plead, whimpering into his ear. “I want it…want you, Toji, no one else.”

“Shit.” Toji presses his forehead to yours, hiking up your thighs; the bed is creaking and shaking with the force of his thrusts. “I love you so fuckin’ much.”

Toji goes rigid and still as he cums, cock suddenly painfully sensitive; when you smile tiredly and kiss the palm of his hand, actual tears well up in the corners of his eyes. It’s all too much. He didn’t know he could even still feel like this, feel much of anything anymore. You shudder from his hot cum gushing inside you, but Toji doesn’t pull out just yet and you don’t seem in a hurry to move him anyway.

“I think you broke my dick.”

“...pardon me?”

“Pretty sure your pussy drained me dry…fuck.” Toji chuckles tiredly, very slowly pulling himself out, smiling in satisfaction as his cum seeps out of you and onto the sheets. “Did you like that?”

“I loved it.” You tell him softly, just beginning to catch your own breath as Toji uses his shirt to gently wipe you clean between your legs. “Toji?”

“Yeah?” Toji tosses his shirt somewhere and lays over you. “You want me to get you something? I bet you’re real tired after that.”

You pause; you look very serious all of a sudden, all business once more. “Toji, we really should talk about ‘us’. I don’t think we can just return to what we were.”

“What? But you said you loved me.” Toji raises his head to glare at you. “You’re not seeing other men, so put that idea out of your fucking head.”

“That is not what I meant!” 

“Okay…what is it then?”

“I was going to say, are you sure this is what you want?” You ask carefully, looking into his eyes. “Is this really what you want?”

“Does a bear shit in the woods?” Toji can’t believe you even have to ask; he frowns and clicks his tongue impatiently. “Fair warning, I’ll find you if you try to leave before I wake up.”

“I don’t doubt it, you’re an excellent tracker.”

“I mean it.” Toji mumbles into the crook of your neck, his heavy arm over your stomach. “You run, I’m hunting you down.”

“I wasn’t planning on making a grand escape; I was thinking something more along the lines of breakfast in bed.” You suggest and smile at the way Toji’s visibly perks up. “Oh, have you had dinner yet?”

“No, I came straight here from the gym.” he lies, eager to have you fuss over him. "I'm really hungry..."

“I’ll order in something; what do you want?” 

“Anything, just get lots of it.” Toji squeezes you. “But don’t go yet though. Wanna stay like this a little longer.”

“Whatever you want.”

In minutes, Toji is snoring and curled up in your sheets like a tuckered out puppy; his leg even kicks randomly. When he wakes up to the smell of warm food and your nails gently scratching his scalp, Toji yawns with a groggy smile and opens his mouth for you to feed him, licking crumbs off your fingers greedily. You really do spoil him. 

#toji fushiguro #jjk toji #toji x reader #toji x you #toji smut #jjk x reader #tw yandere #praise k!nk #sugar baby!toji #sugar mommy #reader insert #fem reader #x reader #possessive #clingy yandere #obsessed yandere #yandere x reader #soft yandere #jjk smut #jjk x you #jjk x fem!reader #toji angst #toji fushiguro smut #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #obsessive love #gentle domination #puppy sub #service top

[randomprose]

now posted on AO3!

Mo Guan Shan is sitting on the kitchen island eating a sandwich when He Cheng walks in. 

He looks up from scrolling through his phone, looking a little startled. 

“Mo Guan Shan,” He Cheng acknowledges with a nod before heading to the fridge. 

“Uh. Hey, boss."

“Where’s He Tian?"

“Still sleepin’,” he shrugs. “Got bored an’ hungry waitin’ for him to wake up.”

He Cheng just hums. His brother has always been one to sleep in late even as a child. 

“Have you eaten?” Mo Guan Shan asks, a hand scratching the back of his neck. He looks awkward standing in He Cheng’s kitchen — rarely used, all stainless steel, and state of the art — yet strangely comfortable behind the counter near the stoves. At least before He Cheng came in. This is the most relaxed He Cheng has ever seen him in his house over the years.

He mulls the question over, probably blurted out on impulse. He’s really only here to get a bottle of water. 

“I've had coffee”, was what he said after awhile. He can’t quite remember what time that was. Some time between the early hours of a new day and before the crack of dawn.  

Mo Guan Shan frowns, brows knitted together. The kid is very expressive, He Cheng observes. Easy to draw reaction from. He can see why He Tian loses his shit pushing this kid’s buttons.

“That’s not exactly food.”

“I don’t eat breakfast.” Never had the stomach for it. Just never made sense for him to eat so early in the morning.

“Er. It’s past noon, boss,” Mo Guan Shan somehow feels the need to remind him. He Cheng just stares at him. “Technically it’s lunchtime bordering on…mid-afternoon snack?”

It dawns on He Cheng that, given his answer, this kid wants him to eat something. Mo Guan Shan either has certain manners drilled into him — He Cheng caught him eating when he entered the kitchen so he felt the need to offer him something as well — or he has an inane need to take care of people. Just like He Tian. 

He Cheng supposes that’s a good thing, if a bit of a soft touch — something that has no room in the world he and He Tian live in but is nonetheless welcomed and desired by He Cheng for his brother. He Tian could’ve done so much worse. At least He Cheng knows his brother is eating and taken care of. He swears that kid never knows how to look after himself. 

“If you insist,” He Cheng allows and sits on a stool at the kitchen counter. 

Mo Guan Shan visibly relaxes. Like he’s relieved He Cheng agreed he could cook for him. If he hadn’t ran a thorough background on him he’d think he’s going to try and poison him. Except the kid is terrible at hiding his expressions and controlling his body language and He Cheng has known him since he was in middle school.

“Alright. So, uh, what are you hungry for?”

He Cheng isn’t really hungry for anything, but he does acknowledge that he hasn’t eaten since yesterday and this will only be his first meal of the day. Still, he doesn’t think he can stomach a full meal right now. 

“Just eggs will do.”

“Okay,” Mo Guan Shan nods. “How do you like your eggs?”

“Scrambled,” is all he says. No mention of how he likes it cooked, no preference for seasoning, no specifications of any kind. He Cheng doesn’t really care as long as it's edible and won’t upset his stomach. 

Mo Guan Shan gets to work in silence. He Cheng watches him move and is not at all surprised that he knows his way around, knows where everything is. Qiu mentioned the kid is good in the kitchen, more than a decent cook, and is not above admitting that he enjoys his food despite the disaster that occured the one and only time the kids came over his place and had Mo Guan Shan made them dinner. He Cheng knows this, too. He knows that the kid is apprenticing in a family restaurant and is saving up to go to culinary school. He’s had to drop by He Tian’s place occasionally and was pleasantly surprised that his brother isn’t just subsisting on take-outs if at all.  

But it’s just eggs and He Cheng isn’t really expecting anything. Eggs are just eggs after all.

After just about twenty minutes, Mo Guan Shan puts down a plate of the fluffiest looking scrambled eggs He Cheng has ever been served garnished with spring onions and what seem to be crushed potato chips. He serves it with a glass of orange juice on the side and the whole ensemble looks like it’s been lifted out of a lifestyle cooking magazine. 

He Cheng takes a forkful and lets out a low pleased sound at the back of his throat.

"Good?" Mo Guan Shan asks, a corner of his lips quirked up in quiet satisfaction the way a cook is when they know someone enjoys their food.

"It is." He Cheng maintains that eggs are still just eggs but this really is good. Qiu’s not exaggerating then. 

The eggs are light and cooked just right, lightly seasoned with the melted cheese adding another layer of flavor, and the potato chips give it a good crunch. He’s never even thought of potato chips as anything other than junk food.

"Yeah. Figured you and Tian like your scrambled eggs the same." Mo Guan Shan comments as he sits back down to finish his sandwich. "First time I made it he looked so pissed even though he couldn't stop shovelling eggs in his mouth. Thought he might've hated it and was just eating it to, I don’t know, not hurt my feelings or some shit, but then I heard him curse you under his breath and ask for seconds."

A thought that comes to He Cheng: He Tian eats breakfast and likes his eggs scrambled just like him.

“He hates it, but he's really alike you in a lot of ways, you know.”

Well, of course he is, He Cheng agrees. He practically raised that kid. He Tian’s bound to pick up some of He Cheng’s mannerisms and preferences for certain things whether he likes it or not.

“Coffee? Brewed a new batch.”

“Please.”

“Cream and sugar?”

“Just black, thanks.”

“You sure?" Mo Guan Shan asks like he doesn't believe him. 

“I like it as it is.” 

“Huh,” Mo Guan Shan sounds out before shrugging and pouring out two mugs.

This prompts He Cheng to ask, "Does Tian-di not take his coffee black then?"

It occurs to him that he doesn’t know his brother at all. Maybe there was a time that he did, when He Tian was small and only had him, but He Cheng doesn’t claim that he knows his brother beyond his childhood days. While He Tian seems to come to him more and more these days, their relationship is still rather estranged and not at all conventional, however that may be. 

All He Cheng knows of He Tian is that his brother is of the good sort and that’s enough for him. 

He Tian cares for his friends and cares for Mo Guan Shan in ways He Cheng will probably never understand. He’s better than He Cheng in a lot of ways that matter, more human perhaps, which suits him just fine. He never wanted He Tian to be someone their family has morphed and twisted to suit their needs and use as see fit. He never wanted He Tian to be like him. 

And so He Cheng finds himself indulging in wanting to know the little things that make up his brother. Like how he likes his eggs and how he drinks his coffee.

“He does but I know he hates it. Everytime he drinks it he makes a face like it's poison.” Mo Guan Shan shrugs as he sits down across from him. He hands He Cheng one of the mugs and nurses one himself. “I don't know why he insists on drinking it this way.” 

He Cheng just hums, breathing in the aroma of the coffee, not unaware of the way Mo Guan Shan is pointedly looking at him.

“Tian-di probably just can’t be bothered to have it otherwise.”

“Nah. He probably just thinks it makes him all mature and tough. As if cream and sugar makes you weak or some shit.”

Just before they both move to take a sip from their mugs, He Cheng mutters “Idiot” under his breath at the same time Mo Guan Shan scoffs it. They stop and couldn’t help to smirk at their consensus.

It’s good to know someone else can see through his brother’s bullshit.

He Cheng notes that Mo Guan Shan takes his coffee black. Mo Guan Shan just shrugs when he points this out. 

“I like the bitter taste. It’s what keeps you awake,” he says before taking another sip. “And you taste the flavor of the beans better without the cover up of milk or sweetener.”

A fair assessment. He Cheng will drink to that.

For a while, they sat in silence as they finish their meals. Then Mo Guan Shan’s phone lights up. He drains the last of his coffee as he swipes at the screen. It seems a message has popped up because he picks it up and types something back. He Cheng surmises it’s probably He Tian, just woken up, asking where Mo Guan Shan is. 

"Refill?" Mo Guan Shan offers, walking back to where the coffee pot is.

"No, thank you.”

Mo Guan Shan refills his cup and adds three spoons of cream and two sugar cubes. He Tian enters the kitchen with a jaw cracking yawn just as Mo Guan Shan is back on his seat and finished stirring. His brother takes the seat beside the redhead across from him and He Cheing watches the latter push the mug at He Tian’s direction. The cup is only three-quarts full. 

“I’m done. Finish this.”

“You always do this. Why bother pouring a full cup if you’re not gonna drink even half of it?” He Tian quips but takes the mug anyway. 

He Cheng notes his brother doesn’t make a face after the first sip. He Tian even licks at his upper lip and a corner of his mouth is quirked up. 

“What’s for breakfast?”

“It’s way past noon.”

“It’s my first meal of the day. What’s for breakfast?”

“Scrambled eggs,” He Cheng answers before Mo Guan Shan could and delights at the face his brother makes when he sees what’s on his plate and realizes who made it.

‘What the…’ He Tian mouths as he narrows his eyes at what remains of He Cheng’s meal.

“You know what, I actually don’t want scrambled eggs. I want—”

“Tough shit. I’m already making them and you’re gonna eat it when it’s done.”

He Tian makes a low whining displeased sound but nonetheless doesn’t protest. “Throw in some bacon.”

“Alright.”

He Tian doesn’t offer to help beyond getting the pack of bacon from the fridge, handing it to Mo Guan Shan before returning to his seat. Like it’s routine. Like there’s an unspoken agreement that Mo Guan Shan cooks and He Tian stays out of his way. And He Cheng gathers he’s probably been shooed away and out of the kitchen when the other is at work. He Cheng can’t imagine his brother even knows how to operate a stove — just another thing they have in common by virtue of being born to money. 

He Tian's attention is solely on Mo Guan Shan. His back is to He Cheng, leaning against the counter as he talks to the redhead. He asks if he slept well, what he wants to do today, if there’s somewhere he wants to go to, if he wants anything particular for dinner later. Mo Guan Shan makes a comment that makes He Tian laugh but goes over He Cheng's head and he figures it must be an inside joke between them. 

There’s a kind of ease to it, the flow of their banter, the way they move around each other. He Tian certainly seems comfortable and at ease, the line of his back relaxed and lacking the usual tenseness of someone always ready to go on either the offense or defense. 

Mo Guan Shan mirrors the same ease as he puts down a plate of eggs, bacon, and toast for He Tian, who turns his head to plant a kiss on his cheek in thanks. 

The whole thing makes He Cheng feel like a fucking interloper in his own goddamn kitchen. 

He Cheng looks at his brother with his own plate of scrambled eggs and Mo Guan Shan's mug of coffee, the one with cream and sugar he said he couldn't finish so He Tian would take it, and thinks it's the best life he could have ever hoped for him. 

“Wash the dishes when you're done,” Mo Guan Shan says as he scrolls through his phone.

He Tian looks at the sink and makes a face at the pan and other things Mo Guan Shan used to cook.

“Man, do I have to? This isn’t even my house. And there are maids for a reason.”

“Tch. Spoiled brat.” Mo Guan Shan lightly pinches a chewing He Tian’s cheek, bulging with food. “Exactly. This isn’t your house. You use them, you clean them.”

“Cheng ate, too,” he nods to where He Cheng is finishing up the last of his meal. “Why don’t you make him do his dishes?” he says with a smirk, thinking he’s on to something.

“He’s letting the four of us stay for the summer.” Mo Guan Shan takes He Cheng’s plate and the empty glass of juice when he sees he’s done and soaks them in the sink. “Here. In this house that he owns. In an island that is his. For free.” He sends He Tian a look that says, ‘need I say more?’.

“What are you talking about? I’m paying for our stay here you know.”

“Oh, really? With what? Sure as hell haven’t seen you so much as touch your wallet since we got on the boat.”

“My sanity.”

Mo Guan Shan’s hand flexes and for a moment, He Cheng thinks his brother is gonna be hit over the head with the frying pan. 

“Just,” the word is sighed through gritted teeth, “do the damn dishes. It’s not that hard.”

“Why don’t you do them then?”

“I already cooked, asshole. I ain't washin’ the dishes. 'sides, you're the last to finish eatin’ so you get to clean up. Them’s the rules.”

“Fine, but I'm only gonna wash mine,” He Tian declares, viciously biting on a chunk of toast.

“It's one plate and a mug, Tian,” Mo Guan Shan sighs sounding like he’s had this exact conversation a thousand times. “Don't be a little bitch and wash them all. Don't waste soap.”

“Baby, look around. We can afford the waste.”

Mo Guan Shan levels him a look which He Tian stares right back as he continues to chew. It goes on for maybe a minute or two. A standoff with just their eyes, willing the other to back down first. 

He Cheng doesn’t quite know what’s going on between the stare down and the silence, but He Tian is the first to look away with a groan. The one to concede first, apparently.

“Uuughhh! Fine! Fuck it! Fine! I'll do the damn dishes.”

“Yeah, as you should,” Mo Guan Shan quips looking satisfied with his victory. He Cheng marvels at how easy it is for him when getting He Tian to do anything, even if it's for his own good, has always been like pulling teeth. “I’m gonna go call my mom. There's more coffee in the pot. Creamer ran out, but there's milk in the fridge.”

“You know I only take my coffee black.”

Mo Guan Shan watches with a flat expression as He Tian sips ‘his’ coffee with cream and sugar. He catches He Cheng's eyes and shoots him a look that says, ‘are you seeing this shit?’ which He Tian doesn’t catch.

“Uh-huh, sure.” He doesn’t bother contesting. “There’s more toast in the bread box.”

“Buttered?”

“Butter it yourself, idiot,” Mo Guan Shan shoots back making a face at him. 

“Can’t even do that simple thing for me, babe? Really starting to doubt this relationship right now.”

“Good. You shouldn’t get too complacent anyway, dick head.” He hops out of his seat and swats at He Tian’s grabby hands. “Do the damn dishes or I swear to god you won’t have anything to doubt anymore.” 

He Cheng watches the exchange and feels like he’s in a sitcom. He thinks about how his initial plan to get a bottle of water has led to him being caught between his brother and his boyfriend play fighting, flirting, and the domesticity of it all. He thinks about asking Mo Guan Shan how he does that whole thing where he just stares at He Tian and makes him yield but figures it would only work if you're Mo Guan Shan. 

He remembers a time when He Tian lowered his pride. Impulsive, insolent, and desperate, he came crawling back to He Cheng and was even willing to go as far as becoming something he hates. All for the sake of some boy, some school friend, some little pet project that he picked up because he was bored that morphed into something else, something more.

Mo Guan Shan made He Tian care for another. He made He Tian care so much he was willing to make himself into a monster for Mo Guan Shan, but stopped him just in time from going the deep end and even made him more human. Hell, Mo Guan Shan made He Tian care about himself. And for all that, He Cheng is grateful.

"Thanks," he says as much and means more than just the best scrambled eggs he's had in a while, but Mo Guan Shan would never know it. "You really didn't have to." 

"Huh. Oh, uh, sure.” It catches Mo Guan Shan off-guard, halting him from leaving the kitchen. He looks a little sheepish as he says, “It's nothing, really. It's just…it’s just eggs."

He Cheng just hums and nods at him once in dismissal. 

“Why are you so mean to me?” He Tian shouts after Mo Guan Shan, who’s already rounded the corner and only shouts back, “Dishes!”

He Tian scowls but there’s no real heat in it. He even asks He Cheng if he wants the rest of the coffee, which he declines, when he stood up to get more toast before tucking back into his eggs.

He Cheng sees that He Tian is happy, thinks Mo Guan Shan brings out all the best in him, and hopes to all the gods he doesn't believe in that his brother don't ever fuck this one up. 

He doesn’t realize he’s staring until He Tian asks, “What?” around a mouthful of toast. 

“Nothing,” He Cheng says as he finishes his coffee, and as he stands up he says, “Make sure you bring him along everytime you plan to come over. Otherwise, don’t come at all.” And just to spite him, he slides his empty mug closer to He Tian. “And make sure you do the damn dishes.”

He gets the desired effect. The glare his brother sent him is acrid and his next words make He Cheng want to laugh.

“Don’t fucking tell me what to do.”

“I didn’t. Mo Guan Shan did.”

“Whatever. Shut the fuck up.”

He Cheng just smirks and doesn’t hit him for his impertinence if only because He Tian grumbling, “I was gonna do them anyway” has already made his day.

Later, as He Cheng sits on his desk looking over his schedule, he sees that he has an appointment with their legal team. A thought strikes him and he scribbles a curt note at the margins and tells his secretary to summon the family lawyers too.

He might as well update the family registry.

--

edit: now posted on AO3! glad you guys like this piece. please leave kudos and comments there as well. thank you! :)

#19 days #tianshan #he tian #mo guan shan #he cheng #he cheng and mo guan shan have a moment #in which mgs asks hc how he likes his eggs #hc thinks ht really lucked out on mgs #hc thanks mgs for making ht happy #not out loud tho lol #writing

[electraslight]

people often complain about how Ben seems to have gotten weaker and clumsier from uaf to omniverse, and I get that's an annoying writing decision, but id like to posit a theory.

Ben used to be an athlete, a star one at that, and he used to be a pretty physically fit and healthy guy, visibly being muscular while still having a smaller build. in omniverse, it seems all that muscle is pretty much gone, as he seems to have trouble carrying things, being balanced, and even doing routine workouts that he supposedly regularly did when he was younger. he's even kind of shrunk.

but the thing is: this is proven to extend to his aliens too.

back when Ben was physically fit, wildvine's entire power set was based on grip and strength, using his vines to swing on things or bring enemies or objects closer to him, which required strength.and now he just can't. just like Ben.

which kind of brings us to the question of why Ben is deteriorating in this fashion? he still leads a very active lifestyle, doesn't seem to have any diseases. why's he going so downhill? (the answer to this question writing wise is a different thing, I am trying to rationalize the world he lives in instead of the world the writers do). the answer probably lies in food. in ogs and uaf, Ben had a pretty diverse diet, at least by kid standards. he ate a lot of junk in ogs, but that's just because what else are you gonna eat on a road trip, and as previously stated, af/uaf Ben is an athlete, who seems to actually like a lot of vegetables, eats dinner with his family, only has fast food on patrol. around the time Gwen and Kevin left, though, things changed.

Ben has kind of an obsession with smoothies in omniverse. they're usually the only thing he's seen consuming besides the occasional chili fries, he thinks about them all the time, the comtumellia literally take the form of them. which, yes, flanderization, haha aketchi pancake think blah blah blah, but the thing is, that flanderization kind of recharacterizes his degredation.

Ben had to drop out in uaf, so now his full time job is working for the plumbers, in am environment where everyone expects him to be an ubermensch who never shows a single flaw, and when he messes up in a normal way, he's the stupidest motherfucker alive, even though he's got more experience than anyone combined. plus, he's got to go on patrol all day long, fight a universe ending threat, and then conk out at 3 and wake up at 5 to do it all again. no family dinners, no time to cram an apple in his bag for later, and the only quick easy and cheap thing for him is smoothies. junk food. quick energy boosts. and it seems like he can't stop thinking about them (although I acknowledge what a copout that was lol), can't stop thinking about food. and consuming only liquid processed baby food for all your meals and getting zero hours of sleep isn't good for your body, and the aliens you inhabit are reflections of your person, so you degrade,they degrade, making b grade villains a slog and lifting over 30 pounds even more of one.

not particularly going in an eating disorder direction with this? still tagged it that though just in case. just wanted to share something I don't rlly see people try to come up w an in universe explanation for. I'm personally leaning more toward an ARFID angle, but I'd be interested to see other's takes

#ben 10 #ben 10 omniverse #ben 10 alien force #ben tennyson #ben 10 ultimate alien #ben 10 classic #ben ten #eating disorder #tw ed #tw eating disorder

[residenthughes]

starting afresh

pairing: leon kennedy x gender neutral reader

word count: 1.3K

tags/warnings: fluff, domestic fluff, re4r leon with re2r haircut/hairstyle

summary: it's been six years since the raccoon city incident. some things change, and some things stay the same (where re4r leon cuts his hair as short as it was in re2r for the first time)

notes: whoever made the mod(s) for leon to have his re2r hairstyle in re4r, no words. just take my money. I'm begging. but if y'all have seen those screenshots/played with the mod yourself, you just know how good he looks with his hair short :((( makes me so soft! hehe

feel like i kind of stepped up my dialogue here, thanks to all the fics I've been reading as of lately 😈 couldn't be more thankful, haha! hope y'all enjoy this and please feel free to let me know your thoughts on this!

“What do you think?”

You’re at a loss for words. Jaw slack and eyes wide. You’re overreacting, you know you are but this quite literally came out of nowhere. It was an uneventful, slow Sunday. As per yours and Leon’s routine, the leisurely day was spent draped in a citrus scented duvet and immersing yourselves in cosy cuddles to recharge for the long week ahead. It was only when your lips ghosted over the rosewood marks of love peppered across the expanse of Leon’s clavicle, hands feverish and wandering that your actions ceased upon the growl of your stomach.

Leon can only laugh, kissing away the flush of your cheeks as he mumbles against your forehead. “Come on, sweetheart. Let’s make some food.”

You pout, wanting to beg for five more minutes (like you hadn’t before), bones aching for the pamper the cloudlike bed provides, but Leon’s already leaving you, arms extending up to the ceiling as he stretches. The sliver of afternoon light peeking through the curtains basks his toned body in all kinds of flattering light, muscles expanding and contracting. 

Leon turns to look at you, lips plump with love as the duvet drapes your body like some fine ballroom gown. He swears his heart beats out of his chest. There really is no one as beautiful as you. 

“Race you to the kitchen?” A teasing eyebrow is raised and even though Leon sets himself in motion to sprint, you don’t budge. Not even an inch. 

He deflates, eyes rolling as he pads over to your side of the bed.

“Don’t wanna,” you mumble as you attempt to bury yourself into the bed, cocooning yourself with the dark shadow grey duvet. “Too lazy.”

Leon sighs. “I’ll give you a piggyback ride?”

Your attention is grabbed. You remove the duvet from your face, sly smirk positioning itself amongst your features.

“I’m listening.”

You cupping behind your ear is what does it for Leon. Dramatic as always.

A huff of amusement sounds from him. Considering the extent as to which the man spoils you rotten, you should be babbling for him to recant his offer, carrying yourself to the kitchen before you two move in a synchronised dance practised all the years you’ve been together as you make food. But Leon’s already perched up on your side of the bed, back towards you with his hands behind him.

“Of course you are,” he beckons for you with the flutter of his fingers, an easy smile sent your way over his shoulder. “Now, hop on before your stomach eats itself.”

You follow his lead, as you always do. Hooking your legs around his waist and circling your arms loosely around his neck. You don’t forget to show your appreciation, peppering his nape with kisses that have laughter pouring out of Leon like honey. Once you’re in the kitchen of your shared apartment, Leon sets you down on the cold countertop with the squeeze of your thighs and opens the fridge.

“Shit,” you crane your neck to look into the fridge too. Much like your stomach, it’s pretty empty. “Need to head to the store if we want something edible for dinner.”

“Is there anything for now at least?” You really can’t be arsed to wait to go get some groceries, make a meal and then eat.

“Kind of, but we definitely need to go shopping after this.” Leon states as he brings out the remnants of the fridge. You go to grab the spices from the cabinet and the last of the eggs and stare at your ingredients.

“Let’s get this party started.” 

You groan. 

Leon can be so lame sometimes. Yet so lovable all the time.

-

Once the appetising brunch made with nothing but the utmost of love settles in your stomach, you reluctantly begin to egg yourself on to completing the rest of your weekend’s work and preparing for your Monday back at the office. Blue light glasses perched against the bridge of your nose, you gnaw at the end of your pencil, legs crossed in the way Leon always jokes in the shape of a pretzel. You’ve left quite a bit of work for yourself to complete tonight, so you don’t see yourself leaving your workspace anytime soon.

Leon understands, he always does. Kisses your forehead delicately and murmurs something about getting some stuff from the grocery store for dinner. He’s out the door before you can get a word in. You now understand why he left in such a hurry, understand why he took longer than usual. 

Before you, your longtime partner, with long dirt blond locks that framed the angles of his cheekbones, sports a new hairstyle. Or should you say old. You haven’t seen him like this since you first started dating - bashful young adults about to embark on their journey into adulthood, sweaty palms linked and heart beats in sync. Ever since the ruinous events of Raccoon City, you noticed that with all the scars and burdens Leon carries with him that he never once looked the same. Face gaunt and eyes sunken in. It took a long while before life returned to his eyes. And though you were beyond ecstatic that Leon was seemingly getting better, you couldn’t help but take note of his hair. He never cut it like before. Never. 

Opting for longer strands of his gorgeous hair, Leon always gave a chuckle and said, “thought you always wanted me to grow my hair out,” whenever you asked. It was sweet of him to do so, sweet of him to say, but you and him both knew that wasn’t entirely true. However, you never pried - that was not in your nature, and certainly not evident in all the years you’ve been with Leon. So, you didn’t ask again and when the time came that Leon’s huffs of annoyance filled your ears as he struggled with keeping the strands out of his face, he departed with a smile and cut a mere two inches off his almost shoulder length hair. It remained that way for the next six years.

Now, having grown into his rugged features, the short hair length from all those years ago conjures something else in you. It feels nostalgic but new -  feels right and looks that way too. But more than anything, you feel proud. Proud of Leon and all that he is, all that he’s become despite everything.

“Barber went a bit crazy, didn’t he?”

Oh, bless him. He’s so awkward, so endearing it hurts. Pools of blue avert your gaze, the floor apparently more interesting, fingertip scratching the surface of his cheeks that burn with ruby red. This is a big moment for Leon, you think, but you know better than anyone that he doesn’t want it to be. Just wants your reassurance and all the calmness that comes with it.

Your hands against Leon’s cheeks shift his eyes to yours, getting an eyeful of the absolute fondness that swims in your eyes. He simply drowns in it - knows the glimmer in your eyes signifies the pride that swells in your chest, the tenderness of your touch loving and reassuring. He did well, has always done so well. Deserves his flowers and the whole damn garden. 

“Maybe,” you giggle and your joy is contagious. Smiling with you, Leon feels you twiddle the strands of his hair between your fingers. Slow and gentle - like your love is. It’s so sweet. “But, I’m not mad at it. Not one bit.”

In all the time you’ve been with Leon, there hasn’t been any more than a handful of times you can recall where he willingly leaned on you for support. Not because you lacked the capacity to do so, but because the solitary nature and secrecy of his job kept him from doing so. Facing his nightmares as much as he could by himself, meeting his new nightmares on missions by himself - everything by himself. But in moments like these, where the significance of his trauma can be lost in translation, he surrenders himself to you. Altogether. Unabashed and brave. He couldn’t be more dashing than he is right now, all versions of himself served to you on a silver platter. 

You fall in love all over again.

#resident evil 4 #resident evil 4 remake #resident evil 4 fanfic #resident evil fanfic #leon kennedy #leon s kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy fanfic #leon kennedy imagine #re4r #re4r leon #leon kennedy fluff #resident evil fluff #leon s kennedy imagine #my fics

[wannaeatramyeon]

Hi, there it's so great to find an amazing writer who enjoys Lookism so much! Please keep at it, your HC's are so much fun to read! If it's not too much to ask for the boys like Gun, Samuel, and Vasco with s/o who is a foreign girl, a very capable fighter, and honorable in combat but outside the fight she is quite self-conscious and a bit naive.

Not me reading the first part of this and thinking you're being sarcastic af lol

Thanks for being so kind anon :') I'm glad you're enjoying it, I have SO much fun writing them and putting my stupidity out! Thanks for the ask! I had a little difficulty writing it.... this really isn't very good but hope this hits the spot.

Lookism with non S. Korean S/O

You're from somewhere vague and overseas. Scenario with your partner (Gun, Samuel, Vasco, Jake)

Gun

Your boyfriend was asking you to fight yet again. You're getting pretty tired of it.

You only moved to South Korea not too long ago and ever since he discovered you picked up your skills from overseas, all he makes you do is fight him. And he doesn't go easy on you.

What happened to dates? What happened to romance?

You thought your boyfriend was growing colder towards you, now always in his own head or just studying martial arts.

"...Gun?"

He peers at you over the top of his sunglasses. Your words are hard to say aloud.

"Do you ... do you not want to be with me anymore?"

"What makes you think that?"

"All we do is fight... Literally! I can't remember the last time you even asked me for anything else."

He pulls you into his arms, "You're actually challenging me. Do you know how rare that is? I'm more turned on than ever."

Samuel

You transferred from overseas after helping source partners to help grow Workers into the behemoth it is today.

Back in your field days, there wasn't anything that couldn't be solved with some violence, but your morals and fairness made you stand out amongst would-be enemies.

Even with the 3rd and 4th Affiliate President as your boyfriend, no one could deny your competence or throw around accusation of nepotism.

But you still had to get your head around the working culture in this country.

"Sammy, do I really have to call you Mr. Seo in the office?"

"Yes."

"Isn't that a bit weird? People have seen us together."

"No, I'm your boss. You need to show respect and address me properly here."

"Oh... Do you actually not want anyone to know I'm your girlfriend?"

Samuel pinches the bridge of his nose, can't quite believing he's going to give in on this.

"Fine. You can call me Samuel,"

"What about-"

"Not Sam. Not Sammy. Samuel."

Vasco

You had agreed to meet in the park for a date with Vasco.

The first time you kissed him, he nearly jumped out of his skin claiming that wasn't how dating worked in South Korea. You found out later it was just his eccentricities.

Vasco texted you that he was running late when a group of guys start harassing you.

You threaten to call the police, but when they put their hands on you, you weren't left with many options.

"Y/N?!" Your boyfriend was staring at you in shock.

"No! Euntae, I didn't want you to see me like this!" you hide your bloodied fist from him.

"What! That was amazing!"

"Thank? you?"His compliment made you blush, you knew it wasn't what 'ladies' do but he liked it?

"Y/N! I thought people only had street fights in South Korea! Do they fight overseas too?"

Jake

You think this might be the first time Jake treated you to a meal. A job well done, he had said after you beat up some thugs who were harassing the girls.

Jake's often running off to god knows where to get god knows what done, leaving you to look after the street.

Is this the supposed Girlfriend Privileges? You having to fight in his stead? You reckon you're getting the short end of the stick.

You stare at the violently red pot of stew in front of you, with some unidentified vegetables floating around

"Jake...? What is this?"

"Oh! You've never tried many Korean dishes, right! It's kimchi stew, my favourite. Here." He spoons some into a bowl for you.

With your boyfriend's loving gaze on you, you had no choice but to take a sip.

"ACK!" you spit it out immediately and grab your glass of water to wash the vileness out of your mouth

Jake rolls his eyes at you, "You've got no taste" and takes his own mouthful.

"I know, I'm with you."

#this is so badly written im so sorry #lookism #lookism headcanons #lookism hc #lookism x reader #lookism fic #lookism fanfic #gun park #gun park x reader #vasco #vasco x reader #samuel seo #samuel seo x reader #jake kim #jake kim x reader #wannaeatramyeon

[angellayercake]

Banchetto: Secondo Piatto

Papa Emeritus III x Reader

AO3 | Primo Piatto | Masterpost

There was no way to rush a stew. To get the best results you had to give it time but this meant that once the preparation was complete it could be left, allowing the low heat and time to do its work. Which is an important consideration when trying to avoid someone. The main ingredients can be prepared ahead of time. Carrot, onion, tomato, mushrooms and celery peeled, washed, sliced and diced. Pancetta cubed and sauted until crisp and the garlic crushed into a smooth paste. The beef joint had been delivered to the main kitchen and was one of the few things needing to be prepared at the time of cooking.

• • • • • • • • • • ✦ • • • • • • • • • •

The days after the incident, as you were now referring to it, had been tumultuous to say the least. Upon waking the following morning you had never been more thankful for a day off and some time to make sense of your thoughts. It had been, well, you were still struggling to forget the feeling of his hands on you, how he had been able to wring pleasure from you so easily and the smug look on his face when you had all but ran from his quarters. You had already been fighting what was evidently a losing battle with your feelings about him but whatever professional barrier you had been attempting to cling on to had been wrenched away. How could you look at him now and not remember how his fingers had curled inside you just right? How could you spend endless hours alone with him and not remember his deep voice commanding you, praising you? You couldn’t, was the answer.

He had just been toying with you, you now realised. Leaving the door open so you would find him like that. You wondered how many times he had done it before you actually caught him and then feel so ashamed when instead of the anger you should have felt that he had put you in that situation you feel yourself warming at the memory. This is the Papa you had been warned about and you couldn’t help feeling disappointed that he had treated you that way. Had it all been some grand manipulation so he could have his way with you? Just another notch on his bed post or even worse was it just a whim he had acted on out of boredom. You had thought, probably naively that you were at least approaching something like friendship or as close to it as one could get when they were working for someone. And that hurt more than anything else. That the man he had shown you, the intelligent, humorous, introspective, vulnerable one may have not been real. 

You can’t face him, not yet but unfortunately you do still have a job to do, as much as you are the only one who seems to remember that. And with some careful planning it is a job you can do without having to see him, at least for a little while. Your position had given you some unique insight into his daily routine and you could use that to your advantage. He wasn’t a late riser as such but you had never seen him out of his bedroom before eight and he liked napping in the afternoon before dinner. You had yet to see him actually leave yet but that should give you enough leeway for now, if you were quick and you were quiet he would still be fed but be none the wiser to when you would actually be present. Luckily you had taken to keeping the notebook with you so you were able to continue working on some of the translations and now on planning meals you can make and leave for him to find.

After dinner that night you set yourself up in the main kitchens and got to work. An easy assortment of pastries could be made out of the same dough and you had made quick work of collecting some berries earlier for a jam. Even if you were unhappy with him you weren’t going to let your standards slip as much as a small part of you wanted to just leave him to fend for himself. In a few hours you had managed to buy yourself a few days of easy breakfast but his evening meal would be much more difficult to negotiate. You scour through page after page looking for a suitable recipe. Until this moment you had enjoyed the fact that italian food relied on good quality fresh ingredients and meals that should be eaten straight from the stove but as you discard recipe after recipe your frustration builds. 

But about half way through you find the perfect thing. In fact you can’t believe you didn’t think of it before, every culture had their take on a stew and italian is no exception clearly. You scan over the instructions, though you hardly need to. Most of the preparation can be done ahead of time so you could bring it all with you and just set up the stew first thing, then leave it to slow cook for the day. It was perfect. It would take you a couple of days to get all the ingredients in but luckily you still had a stock of left over portions you typically left for him on your days off which bought you some additional time. 

The first morning goes off without a hitch. You get in, lay out the pastries, dishes off fresh jam and whipped cream, slice some fruit and set the coffee maker going. You make it out before even hearing him stirring. It worked, and continues to work. You make it up to six days since the incident without seeing him once. You feel relieved, you think, as you rush away from his rooms, except for the gnawing feeling in your heart that you try not to dwell on. If you were to delve into it you suspect it is because you miss him. You miss his endless questions. You miss his smile and the way his eyes crinkle when it is genuine. You even miss his good natured teasing. But that needs to be pushed aside at least for now, at least until you can get your emotions under control. You let yourself into the main kitchen to do a last check of the pantry for tomorrow. Your store of leftovers would run out tonight so your plan would have to be enacted in the morning. 

You reach into your bag to pull out the notebook but find it missing from its usual place. There is really too much junk in here you need to have a clear out soon you think as you rummage through your belongings. You start to pull things out hoping it had just slid down underneath some other books and clutter but no it isn't there. Panic starts to wash over you, if you have lost it, this connection to some mysterious past of his you will never be able to face him again. It would be so much worse than whatever is happening now. Closing your eyes you take a deep breath and try to think. You had had it this morning, under your arm as you had carried this morning's breakfast into his room. You had found some more odd translation while you waited for the water to heat for the coffee machine and when it had beeped you had put it on the counter while you attended to that and … you had left it on the counter. In plain sight. Where he would find it right next to his breakfast.    

You double back hoping you won’t be too late, that he will still be locked in his room, checking the time you know you will be cutting it fine and you would need every ounce of luck on your side. His office is clear, not that he uses it much now anyway and you make your way through the sitting room. The drapes still hang closed and you think you have made it but when you enter the dining room you stop in your tracks. There was only one way in and out of the kitchen and the now open door freezes you in place. You can hear him moving around inside so you duck back out into the sitting room. 

Peering around the frame you watch him exit the kitchen, plate in one hand, notebook in the other. The fact that you are once again sneakily watching him isn’t lost on you but as he comes into view it only confirms to you just how much you have missed him. Dropping the plate on the table with little care he scrapes out the nearest chair and flops into it. He flicks through the pages of the book, appearing to have little interest until he reached the last page and the untranslated note. He traces it with his finger as he lets out a deep sigh. He looks tired again and an air of defeat lingering in his expression and you start to wonder if you had read the situation correctly. 

‘Hai fatto una cazzata, idiota,’ he mutters to himself as drops the book closed on the table looking glumly at his breakfast. He starts picking at it and you let out a sigh of relief now you know that he was still eating. But that look, you had seen it before and you didn’t know how to feel knowing you were the cause of it this time. You steal away quietly, not ready to speak to him quite yet. There was someone else who could help you get your head straight first. 

• • • • • • • • • • ✦ • • • • • • • • • •

The recipe calls for the beef to be cooked as a full joint so the seasoning and searing at this stage is essential. The pan is set to heat as you begin to prepare the meat, wrapping it carefully in twine to keep the joint from separating as it gets more and more tender and coating it in freshly ground salt and pepper. Just enough oil is added to the pan to coat the base then just as it starts to spit the meat is added, pressed down firmly to keep the sear even. Minutes is all it takes before it must be switched, over and over until every side of the meat is brown and a crust forms, helping to keep all the juice and flavour inside as it is removed from the heat and left to rest.

• • • • • • • • • • ✦ • • • • • • • • • •

Tracking Mona down had been easy enough, there were only a few places she would be this time of day and when you found her room empty you headed straight for the kitchen gardens. Her artfully messy bun was peeking out from the greenery of the vegetable patch and already you could feel some of your worries lifting. You had come to realise not long after starting to work with Terzo how much you had taken for granted working with your best friends. It wasn't until you weren’t seeing them every day that you realised how much you relied on them. 

‘Bloody stupid carrot come on! Don’t you want to be eaten?’ You can hear her mumbling to herself, or well to the carrot she was trying to pull from the ground. 

‘I can see you are in a life or death battle with your carrot nemesis but when you're done care to join me for a tea and a chat?’ She jumps at the sound of your voice, giving the carrot an extra hard yank, pulling if free but slipping backwards in the process. 

‘Don’t creep up on me,’ she hisses. You try to hold in your laugh but as you lean over the raised bed and see her glaring up at you with the stubbiest little carrot you had ever seen grasped in her fist you couldn’t help it. ‘Well help me up at least if you are just going to laugh.’ 

‘I’m sorry,’ you say through your suppressed giggles. ‘But at least you defeated your foe.’ 

‘Yes well, thank you for that I suppose,’ she eyes the carrot with disgust. ‘All that fuss and for what? Two inches.’ She throws it down in her basket anyway before dusting off her overalls and following you towards the tea shed. Which was quite literally a shed. There was a kettle and a shelf of tacky tourist mugs, collected by Primo and his brothers from their world wide tours and then shelf upon shelf of hand blended teas in jars, painstakingly labelled in Primo’s swirling script. The first time a sibling was allowed in was always accompanied by Primo himself, the initiation some of you jokingly called it but after you were allowed to use it as you pleased as long as it was always left the place clean and tidy.  

You make the tea as she continues her complaining. You tune it out mostly just letting the sound of her voice wash over you and help calm your nerves. You hand her a mug and carry yours out heading for your favourite bench swing. Her tirade trickles to an end as you both get comfortable, giving you the opening you need but aren’t quite ready to take. You get lost in thought staring out across the garden and she kindly gives you time, sensing that you must need it. You aren’t even sure where to start so you go all the way back to the beginning. If there is one person you can trust it is her and if she is going to have a chance to help you at all she needs to know everything. It’s like a damn breaking, from the moment you were first called to his office up until you watching him sadly eat his breakfast this morning she hears it all. She doesn’t interrupt you, although you can tell at times she really wants to, her wide eyes showing disbelief at some things, soft smile filled with her affection for you at others and flushed cheeks when you explain to her how he touched you. 

‘Wow,’ she sighs when your story winds down. ‘I thought you might have some juicy gossip from working for Papa, but that is, well ...’ She trails off looking deep in thought as she finishes the last of her tea. 

‘It, he, was not at all what I expected,’ you start still not really feeling able to articulate your thoughts. ‘And now, I just don’t know what to do. Do I pretend it didn’t happen? Do I even want to do that? Shit it’s so confusing.’ You bury your face in your hands to try and stop your frustration overwhelming you. She rubs your back gently, helping to ground you and you already feel your gratitude for her building up inside you. 

‘It seems to me like you have two real options here.’ She taps the side of her mug with her nails as she gathers her thoughts. ‘You tell him to stick the stupid job and leave him to fend for himself.’ You wince even at the tone of her voice ‘And if Primo or Secondo asks you tell them exactly why you don’t want to work for him anymore.’ You are already shaking your head before she has even finished. If there is one thing the last week has taught you is that you don’t want to be away from him. You enjoy caring for him and the last thing you want to do is stop. 

‘Or you have to tell him. Tell him how you feel and that how he treated you isn’t acceptable.’ Neither of these options were particularly appealing but you knew she was right and this was by far the better of the two. 

‘Right, yes,’ you paused, just thinking about it had your stomach in knots. ‘If I explain that I have feelings then, if he is the man I think he is anyway, he should stop playing with me.’

‘Exactly!’ She pulls you into a half hug clearly pleased that her advice had helped. ‘And for what it is worth, although he is being a dick, I don’t think he is bad, deep down. If you set your boundaries he will respect them.’ She is right you think, or hope at least. ‘And if he doesn’t, well, no more of your tasty food for him and I will kick his butt!’ She jumps up demonstrating what you can only assume is her butt kicking stance but it gets you laughing again even if she looks ridiculous. You grab the mug from her so you can go tidy up behind you both. 

‘You can’t even take a carrot and you think you will be able to take Papa Terzo?’ You call back to her. 

‘Hey!’ You hear her shout behind you but just hurry to the shed before she can continue. You knew speaking to her would make you feel better. Now you just need to put the advice into action.     

• • • • • • • • • • ✦ • • • • • • • • • •

The heat is lowered as the rest of the stew is prepared. The pan must be deglazed to make sure the leftover meat doesn’t begin to burn and red wine would lift the flavours of the dish perfectly. Once added the garlic and tomato paste and onions slowly cook and combine until the sweet tangy aroma fills the room. With the base of the sauce prepared it’s just a matter of throwing in the final ingredients and mixing. Everything that had been prepared earlier is added to the pot and thoroughly coated in the thick sauce. A touch more red wine before the stock is stirred in until the dish is half full. The final touches of seasoning are added last, rough cut sun dried tomatoes and sprigs of fresh thyme and rosemary, until it comes to a gentle simmer.

• • • • • • • • • • ✦ • • • • • • • • • •

By now everything should have been ready, the stew and your thoughts. Mona was right, you just needed to be honest with him. Be firm, set some boundaries and it would all be fine. If he wouldn’t respect them then you would feel no guilt leaving your post but you had to give him a chance, you wanted to. His dejected face as he sat at the dinner table kept drifting into your mind, he really hadn’t known you were watching then so it had to have been genuine. The nerves were still coursing through you but you were as prepared as you were ever going to be. 

You arrived at his quarters, a fresh loaf of bread snagged from the kitchen in hand. All you needed to do was plate up and wait for him. Much the same as the morning these past few days you let yourself into his quarters moving quietly through the familiar space. The drapes had been opened now, letting the soft evening light into the room, the fire was lit in the grate, a book left open and abandoned on the side table. But passing through the dining room you see the usually dark candles had been lit, the table was set for two and your heart sinks. He was expecting company and this derails all your plans. You let out a huff of annoyance, he could have informed you, you think. But then he couldn’t, could he because you had been avoiding him all week. All your inner turmoil returned as you dragged your feet into the dark kitchen only to be stopped short by a shadow leaning against the counter. 

‘Long time no see Sorella.’ He sounds off you think but it’s hard to tell where he is standing, the dim evening light casting him in shadow. You flick on the light and he blinks in surprise but you don’t make eye contact not yet.

‘Hello Papa.’ You skirt past him to put the loaf on the side trying not to get too close while you feel so unsettled. There is a palpable tension and you are annoyed that your plans have been so thoroughly disrupted. ‘The stew should be done now. If you give me a moment I will get everything ready for you and your guest.’ You had to look at him now he was in your way  

‘My guest is already here.’ Your heart sinks even further as he speaks. You had walked through the public side of his quarters to get here and had seen no one which means they could only be in one of his private rooms and what business would anyone but a lover have there. You glare at him pointedly until he gets the picture and moves aside but he still hovers keeping your nerves on edge. 

‘My apologies Papa. I did not know or I would never have interrupted.’ You can see him shaking his head out of the corner of your eye but you have to focus on your task or you will explode into something, tears or screams. A hysterical laugh would probably be the best option but there's no guarantee with the way everything is bubbling up inside you. ‘I will finish up quickly then leave you alone.’

‘No no Sorella, you misunderstand.’ He reaches out to touch you, to place his hand on your shoulder but you instantly tense when you feel him come close and he must think better of it. ‘Or maybe I should properly explain. Si.’ He backs away from you giving you space to continue so you pull the dish from the oven and leave it on the side to sit. Next you see to the bread, thick even slices with generous coating of fresh butter. You wait and wait as you come to the final preparations of slicing the meat and serving the stew but he is still standing there watching you silently. 

‘Well?’ You sound rude you are sure of it but everything is so tense you just need him to spit it out, 

‘Right, well, I have been thinking, alot for this past week,’ he pauses running his fingers through his hair. ‘Which thank you, by the way, for not leaving me to go hungry Sorrella. I do appreciate this. But what I mean to say is I think that I have, um, misbehaved towards you and well.’ He stops when you finally turn to look at him, unable to keep the surprise from your face. ‘Perhaps I can make it up to you?’

• • • • • • • • • • ✦ • • • • • • • • • •

 The seared beef goes in last, half submerged in the simmering stock, resting on top of everything else in the pot. When the lid is secured the low steady heat will cook it slowly, the internal fat rendering and combining with the thickening sauce until everything is tender and flavourful. The only thing needed here is time, the longer the time and lower the heat the better. No stirring, no adding, just left alone to do what it needs to do. The step that is perfect if you are trying to successfully avoid someone.   

• • • • • • • • • • ✦ • • • • • • • • • •

‘Papa,’ you try, this whole evening is not panning out as you had planned. ‘I just need to do what I am supposed to do. Make sure you are happy and well fed.’ 

‘Well fed, I think you have covered Sorella, but happy? Por favore, have dinner with me just tonight?’ You started to shake your head in refusal but he interrupts you before you can start. ‘Help ease your Papas conscience, eh?’ He seems to have found his confidence from somewhere, smiling at you and holding out a second bowl and you are weak, so weak, you take it with a sigh and serve some for yourself. He takes it back from you as you finish and carries both yours and his into the dining room.

It is awkward, almost unbearably so, sitting there with him. All the comfortable camaraderie you had built is gone and instead you sit and you eat and the uncomfortable silence builds around you. After some time he clears his throat and tries to set down his spoon, dropping it in his nerves. The metallic clatter as it connects with the bowl seems to echo in the quiet room. 

‘I … this is very good as always, grazi Sorella.’ You nod in acknowledgement but continue eating. The sooner you finish the sooner you can leave. ‘Now there was something I wished to speak with you about.’ He places the notebook between you on the table. ‘I hope you didn’t leave this as a sign of you quitting.’

‘No, that was a mistake. I don’t want to quit,’ and then the words get stuck in your throat. He is looking at you so earnestly and you have to admit to your silly little crush. You feel your face heating up and you have to look away from him or you fear you will never be able to speak. ‘The problem is Papa, I'm struggling to keep things professional and your behaviour really hasn’t helped.’ You have to speak all in a rush or you fear you will never say everything you need to. ‘I have been tasked with a job and my attraction to you is getting in the way of that, I think.’ You brave a look at him but he is playing with what is left of his food looking almost ashamed. 

‘I fear you may think I have been toying with you, Sorella.’ He looks up at you capturing you in his mismatched gaze. ‘And maybe I have but it was not done maliciously, I assure you.’ You feel tears welling in your eyes at his confession and look down to try and blink them away but he reaches for you, taking your hand and squeezing it gently, encouraging you to look up at him. You can’t even begin to parse out the different emotions swirling in his eyes but you do believe that what he says is the truth. 

‘I like you too Sorella, and find you attractive but I do not wish to take advantage.’ You can only blink dumbly at the surprising revelation. ‘And when I say I am sorry, I mean it.’ 

‘You.. you do?’ You couldn't believe what you are hearing. Papa, Papa Emeritus III, Terzo, he is interested in you. The kitchen girl. Yes, a skilled kitchen girl but still. You weren’t glamorous and interesting like some of the other siblings. You weren’t especially beautiful or have a desirable body or nice clothes. What could he possibly see in you? Looking up from your plate you meet his earnest eyes and he leans over caressing your cheek and tucking an errant curl behind your ear. 

‘Of course I do. There is no pressure mia cuocoina but perhaps as we both find ourselves in this predicament we just see where it takes us?’ You pull away a little abruptly collecting up the dinner things. Everything was happening so fast you needed a breather. You had expected to just return to a civil if distant working relationship with him. Was it what you really wanted? No. But you are struggling to get your head around the alternative. For some reason you feel you might never understand, he wants you. He wants whatever you are willing to allow him which feels like a dangerous path to go down. With the dishes in the sink you cling to the edge until you feel grounded again. 

Part of you wished that you and Mona had discussed this possibility but it felt so far from reality how could you have known. The thought he might still be lying crosses your mind briefly but no it doesn’t feel like that. No this was real and it was happening and the decision was all yours. There were so many ways this could go wrong and yet there was also the possibility that it would go right, that you could end up with more than you could ever have dreamed of. You can’t pass up on an opportunity like this and you may never have it again. Already you get the impression if you say no now you will never hear of it again. You will get the civil professional relationship you thought you wanted but now, with the alternative dancing through your imagination you know you would never be happy with that. No, now you know exactly what you want.

• • • • • • • • • • ✦ • • • • • • • • • •

When the time comes the final step is the most simple. You remove the meat first, carefully. If every step has been followed correctly it should be tender enough to fall apart. It can sit for a time, while you gently mix and then carefully serve out the vegetables and sauce. They too should be tender and saturated with flavour. You want to be generous with your servings, with plenty of sauce for the thickly sliced bread to soak up. Once you are plated and prepared the beef will be ready to be sliced. Be generous here also, thick, perfectly cooked slices to top off the ultimate comfort dish. Sprinkle with a garnish of fresh chopped herbs then it will be ready to devour.  

• • • • • • • • • • ✦ • • • • • • • • • •

‘You do not have to give your answer now mia cuocoina or you can just say no,’ he says,  following you into the kitchen after giving you a few moments but there is hesitancy about him. Seeing him so off balance emboldens and reassures you even further his wringing hands causing your heart to ache for him. This didn’t feel like the same man who cornered you in this very room and made you orgasm over the stove. But perhaps that is the point. He wasn’t trying to seduce you now he was wearing his heart on his sleeve. If he wanted just to fuck you, you imagined you would be bent over the dining table by now. He knew how to entice people to sleep with him but maybe he didn’t know how to ask someone to be with him. You shake the thoughts from your head realising you are getting way too ahead of yourself but it gives you the confidence you need to close the distance between you. 

He watches you approach hands still fidgeting in front of him until you are close enough to take them in yours. You wanted him, you knew that much and you would have to take his words at face value. Separating his hands you guide them to your waist where he clings to the fabric of your top. You run your hands up his arms to his shoulders watching your own progress as you get closer and closer together. They come to a stop on his soft chest leaving a degree of space still between you. As much as part of you just wants to throw yourself at him you suspect you both need to take this slow. When you finally look up at his face and meet his intense eyes he still looks unsure but there is the hint of a smile pulling at his lips. You take another moment to take him all in up close, now you can without guilt. 

He is warm and you can smell the spicy scent of his cologne as you look. His handsome face had filled out since the beginning of your time together but his strong jaw and prominent cheekbones still define his face and although some of the lines had smoothed out you could easily see the criss-crossing map of his expressions. You wanted to trace them all with your fingers the highs and lows of his life etched on his skin but for now you content yourself with following them with your eyes. You drop your gaze to his lips and suck in breath as it sinks in that you are really about to kiss him. His little smile had grown in the time you had been looking at him, his full lips pulling up at the sides but as you shift closer his mouth drops open seeming to anticipate the kiss as much as you. 

Your lips meet and it’s so soft and tentative and perfect. His hands flex on your waist easing you closer and you slide yours up and around his neck until you are pressed as close as you are able. You break apart just momentarily allowing your eyes to meet and the spark you see there awakens a flutter of butterflies in your stomach. You lean back in deepening the kiss but only slightly. He is letting you set the pace this time and you are so grateful that you can just enjoy it. His closeness, his touch, the taste of him. And the taste of him is addicting. As his mouth opens to you, you taste your food and shiver. You had cooked for so many people before but somehow the taste of the food you had so carefully prepared for him on his tongue almost breaks your resolve so you stop the kiss then. Slowly. Reluctantly, but you don’t want to rush into anything now that you have come to an understanding.

You stay though for a little longer wrapped in each other's arms, close enough to share the air between you not quite ready for the moment to end. He is smiling properly now, wide and slightly swollen from your kisses and you dare to smooth your thumb of your favourite creases at that corner of his eye that only appear when he is truly happy. But eventually reality sets in and your mind reminds you of the leftovers that need to be refrigerated, the dishes that need to be cleaned, the table that needs to be cleared. Leaving your hand cupping his face for as long as you can, you pull away with a smile. His fingers trail across your body as you step back, clearly as reluctant as you to separate but you see your soft smile still mirrored on his face. 

‘I should finish up here Papa,’ you say, gesturing to the counter behind you. He lets his hand drop from you and just watches as the distance between you increases. 

‘Terzo,’ he says hesitantly. ‘You should call me Terzo now, si?’ 

‘Ok Terzo.’ It feels strange to say but you can’t deny his invitation. ‘Now let me get on here,’ you chide but hope he can still hear the affection in your voice. 

‘Si Capocuoco,’ he snaps almost to attention making you laugh but as he goes to leave he turns to you. ‘But you will be back tomorrow morning si? Like how it was before?’

‘Yes I will,’ you reply and he leaves you to it, seemingly happy with your reassurance. As you run through the last of the cleaning you can’t help thinking that he may be wrong about one thing. Nothing would be like it was before. And you couldn’t be more excited about that.

#papa emeritus iii x reader #terzo x reader #the band ghost fanfiction #the band ghost fic #terzo #papa emeritus iii #i'm sorry this took so long but finally it is here! #my writing #banchetto

[bipolar-sad-and-ready-to-cry]

Me made an AU ヽ(°〇°)ﾉ it’s a FNAF and subnautica AU!!!

Oki so lemme explain because there are tons of these sorta AUs so as a planet 4546B enthusiast (close to beating the first game just need to build the rocket) and as a Sun and Moon Lover, I think there needs to be more!!

Any ways my Au takes place quite a few years before the Degasi crashed into planet 4546B! Y/N comes from a government that punishes criminals by throwing them onto unknown or dangerous planets and doing it again once the criminal escapes till the criminal dies or earns their freedom, Y/N has been framed for a horrific crime, they didn’t fight because they knew they had no alibi, Y/N has never been one to have friends so it was almost as if people had been expecting them to do a horrific crime, there was no convincing them otherwise!

Y/N was basically yeeted to the planet, no one cared if they lived but they survived the landing in the ocean, they landed near the floating island, they eventually got to the safe shallows after a night on the island, of course swimming to find more resources is scary but even more terrifying when you have Thalassophobia! But before We talk more about Y/N lets talk about Sun and Moon Lore!!

Sun and Moon call each other siblings but they aren’t biological related, they just happened to hatch on the same day! They are hybrids of creatures on planet 4546B and other planets, they were artificially created by an Architect called Af-ton!!

Moon is a hybrid of a Ghost and Reaper Leviathan with human and squid! He uses the grabby grabby claws on his back to hold meals still and to hold a pillow made of kelp while he sleeps, he sleeps mostly during the day but when Sun wants to explore during the day he will stay awake to explore with him, once he meets Y/N he’ll start carrying Y/N around in his grabby claws while he swims around always comes up to give Y/N oxygen. Has a bit more tough love with getting Y/N to go deeper and swim around more deeper areas.

Sun is a hybrid of a ghost leviathan, crab snake, Mesmer and human! He uses his petal shaped things on his head to lure prey in much like a Mesmer, they will also flash bright colours when excited, curious, sad and angry! He explores a lot! He’s curious about everything! He sleeps during the night, he likes to be carried around by Moon while sleeping and is just a little touch starved for affection other than from Moon. Once he meets Y/N he’d try getting them to go deeper in the ocean and encourage them to come explore with him!

Since Sun and Moon are the youngest as the last creations from Af-ton before many of the architects uploaded their consciousness into computers, they hang out around the safe shallows to hide from the bigger hybrids, they commonly talk to Chica and Freddy but not Monty and Roxy because of their aggressive behaviour. They both explore deeper water when they can but they get word of mouth from Freddy and Chica, one day Freddy told them he saw a meteor crash into the ocean near the floating island! They go to explore and find a bunch of metal fragments where it crashed so they decided to go rest at the island before swimming back to safe shallows but instead they found an odd creature sitting on the edge of the island, small enough to not be of any danger to them but not small enough to be a quick easy snack, could it be an alien from the meteor or is it a new hybrid from Af-ton??? They’ll find out soon enough but first Y/N needs to get the courage to hop in the water

#my art #art #fnaf #fnaf sun #fnaf daycare attendant #fnaf moon #y/n #subnautica Au #yay #Enjoy friends will be posting more doodles and art of the Au soon

[banzaitaka]

Helloo there couldnt help but notice u write for samon and qi from nanbaka could i get Male reader whos like mikey from tokyo revengers as a partner (short lazy but strong af) thank you for ur time

---

Look who got around to posting again

Nanbaka Masterlist

I hope this is what you wanted & you enjoy reading! Tips are very appreciated!

Samon Gokuu x male! reader

Qi x male! reader

Gremlin

Gremlin. That‘s what Samon calls that little bundle of chaos, or in other words; his boyfriend. First, it seemed like a rather harsh petname to give your lover, but all of building 5 learned to respect, accept or agree with that decision soon enough.

(Y/N)‘s mood was so unpredictable, but so incredibly predictable at the same time. Or rather, Samon forgets how easy he could tell what he was up to all the time.

„I wonder where (Y/N) is. Lunch break is already over.“ Oh right. He falls asleep in the spot after every meal without a care in the world.

„(Y/N), what are you-“ Ugh. Of course he dashes out to accompany the inmates to the gaming room.

„I‘m sorry, I can‘t fight you today. (Y/N) should be fre-“ „Ooooooh Li wants to fight!?“ „Where the hell did you come from?“

Nothing worth worrying or pondering about, actually. Though, it can suck quite a bit of energy from the supervisor, only just a bit. What really makes him a little gremlin is something else. In a moment of weakness - or rather, as (Y/N) was snacking on a peach bun - Liang and Upa were fighting two vs. one against Samon. A special occasion, I might add. Neither of the inmates seemed to be in the mood for cooperation that day. So one thing lead to another and…As Liang aimed a kick to Samon‘s stomach from one side, and Upa was charging his own attack from the other, Samon waited for the perfect moment to jump backwards, leading the two of them to collide.

The kick ended up flinging Upa away, and outside the training grounds. Crashing right into (Y/N), sending them both to the rocky ground. The peach bun now in the shape of a pancake, spread all over (Y/N)‘s guard uniform.

As soon as Upa realized what had happend, he stood up and apologized for crashing into him, before turning around to his cellmate, „Hey Liang, watch your foot, damnit!“ The poor boy didn‘t even notice the guard standing menacingly behind him, not until he felt his hand grab the back of his neck. „I‘ll make you pay.“

„(Y/N). It was an accident.“, Samon walked up to them, beads of sweat rolling down his temple, „I‘ll get you a new bun, and a clean uniform.“

„This is not about that!“, (Y/N) spat back, face unreadable, eyes burning holes into the back of Upa‘s head. „Then what is…“, too late.

Laughter. (Y/N)‘s laughter drumming through the area, letting go of the poor inmate, „Just kidding. Hehehehehe.“

„DAMNIT, YOU LITTLE GREMLIN!“

Samon didn‘t know if he was more mad about falling for it yet again, or the fact (Y/N) dared to do it yet again.

Child-like

Narrowing his eyes, (Y/N) stared at the plate of food infront of him. It was like he was trying to eradicate it with his fuming glare. His fellow inmates held a considerably large distance between them and him, fearing the aura that was slowly starting to seep through and out of his body. „What‘s wrong, (Y/N)?“, Liang sat down across from the male, next to Upa who was already sighing, „Is that even a question at this point?“, the Qigong master deadpanned.

„They forgot the flag.“, (Y/N)‘s tone was far too serious for the scenario that was going down, at least for those around him. To him, the missing flag on his burger could as well be a declaration of war. How dare they?

„I wonder if they enjoy this.“, Qi muttered to himself, joining the group at the table with his own tray in hand. It happened to be loud enough for his boyfriend to hear, however, judging by that loud scoff that was followed by a pout. Chuckling to himself, Qi placed down his tray and moved to solve this growing dilemma before it could actually become a problem. He stuck a little flag ontop of (Y/N)‘s burger, „You know, I still don‘t get why you get so worked up over this.“

As if worked with magic, the thick blanket of anger disappeared and made space for sparkles of childish joy to float in the air around the young man. You could hear the entirety of the cafeteria sigh in unision, not including Qi. He settled for a head-shake, lips adorned with a fond smile. „Heh, you‘re welcome.“, he chuckled out at how (Y/N) gulped down his flag-adorned burger, despite not being thanked for his service at all. It‘s fine though. Seeing that bright smile and hearing that cute little giggle was enough.

Besides, he was looking forward to the nap together after lunch.

#nanbaka #nanbaka x reader #nanbaka x male reader #x reader #x male reader #samon gokuu #samon gokuu x reader #samon gokuu x male reader #nanbaka qi #nanbaka qi x reader #nanbaka qi x male reader

[kronosveritas]

HELLO EVERYONE TIME FOR A SILLY RVB HEADCANON

North used to cook pancakes for all the Freelancers when he could occasionally get his hands on the ingredients. It was never easy to get the stuff he needed or to make them on the Mother of Invention, but he didn’t mind because everyone (even South and Carolina) always lit up when he made the pancakes for them, and it was one of the only periodic/consistent bright points in their lives, as small and insignificant as it might have seemed on the surface. pancakes are still Wash and Carolina’s favorite food to this day but it’s not something they really talk about due to the emotions connected with the memory.

(More below the fold)

____________________________________________

Bonus:

Wash naturally wakes up earlier than the reds and blues, so he tried to remember how North used to do it so he could make them pancakes one morning, but he completely botched it. Embarrassed, he disposed of the remains of the scorched confections before the reds and blues woke up so they wouldn’t know about it and acted like nothing happened, but he stayed up all of that next night trying to get the recipe right. When the soldiers woke up that morning it was to the delicious scent of pancakes, which a very tired but happy Washington was just finishing preparing for them. Even though there weren’t perfect and were shaped a little lopsided, everyone loved them and ate together, having a great time and very appreciative of the surprising gesture.

It was a very bittersweet moment for Wash, and though he didn’t let the others see, he teared up from the memories of his old friends/family enjoying the same treat back on the Mother of Invention. It was happy crying too, though, because he knew that North would have been proud of him.

Carolina is the only one who understands the real meaning behind the gesture, and even her prickly demeanor softens at the memories that morning, as in that bittersweet moment she chooses to sit back and remember the good things, like York always sneaking her an extra pancake and the freelancers actually feeling like real people for once instead of just weapons. She doesn’t say anything, but nods to Wash to tell him that he did a good job, and the entire group enjoys the loveliest Saturday morning that they’ve had in a while.

____________________________________________

(Bonus bonus…… after that, Wash discovers that he actually really likes cooking because it makes him feel good to make people he loves happy. He is god awful at it, though, and asks Grif to teach him in secret, then after weeks and weeks of lessons, cooks Tucker a genuine meal and he’s amazed and it’s amazing and wholesome af)

#red vs blue #rvb #project freelancer #tuckington #agent washington #agent north dakota #agent york #agent carolina #headcanon

[sun-roach]

What are some headcanons of your favorite clones?

Some headcanons of my favorite clones:

Okay so like.. I have many faves… I will answer for my current top 3 (it changes all the time.. except Fox ofc)^~^

Commander Fox:

Marshal commander

Wolffe’s younger twin

His intuition is always on point

Force sensitive without knowing

Had top scores on Kamino

Envied or idolized and or disliked by some vode bc of his scores

Thinks outside the box

He loves tookas but will never admit it

He even has one called "Lieutenant Pringles"

Went from proud, arrogant, ambitious to tired, depressed, burnt-out

Very confident in his skills

Very quick and agile

Can adapt to any situation

No target escapes him

Very good soldier following very bad orders

Knows that Palpatine is a sith

Gets manipulated by Palpatine but not like Anakin got manipulated and groomed. Palpatine uses Fox's fears against him and since Fox is unknowingly force sensitive its easy game for Sheevy to play around and archive what he wants

So many blackouts

Vode killer

Thorn is his best friend

Caf junkie, who turned to an energy drink junkie

Has a plant he got from his batch, it’s dead, but he still tries to take care of it

He gets cold really quick

Red means safety for him

Depressed meow meow

Dark humor

After Ponds death he tries to meet his other batchmates more often, but everything just becomes worse

Sneaky, sly, quiet Fox

Protective

Appears cold and commanding, is actually sensible and caring

Prefers ration bars over actual meals, he got no time for real good food

Always trains at 4am

Back pain

Doesn’t remember the last time he got a hug, would give the best tho

Loves the stars, but never/rarely leaves Coruscant

Thorn ones got him plushy bunny slippers bc his feet are always cold. He secretly wears them in his office while doing flimsi work

There are so many more kfndndnndn i just love this man kfkfndndndndnnd

Commander Neyo:

Quiet, reserved

Only talks if he thinks it’s necessary

Doesn’t like people

Very dark, morbid, dry humor

Speaks sarcasm fluently

Would have been a racer or pilot or mechanic in another life

Programmed a cute droid, WAC-47

Would have either bonded with Anakin over their interests or wpuld have killed him for being a dramatic bitch

Bacara is his best friend

Loves to work on his speeder

Develops tactics and strategies for speeder battles

Card games on motorcycles

Very smart and rational

Seems very cold and aloof

An oddball

Outcasted

The arc program poked too much into his privacy

"Good soldiers" always follow orders

Will use any possible advantage to win, even if it means to sacrifice something or someone

Sassy af

10/10 would have killed his jedi at one point just because he found her annoying

Probably depressed but, isn’t aware of it

Actually caring, has a soft side, but he closed it away (if he hadn’t, there would have been no way he would have kept WAC-47 for that long )

"They all will die soon anyway" mentality

Doesn’t believe in anything, orders r the only reason he and the vode exist

Has a group chat with Bacara and Fox, he is the one who sends most messages (its mostly infodump or edgy jokes)

Commander Cody:

The youngest of his batch

Competitive af

Has no chill

Very caring and protective

Loyal

Feral shithead

Appears controlled, calm, steady

Is actually screaming inside

Caf junkie

Got his name from Fox

Hates spaghetti

Actually a good dancer

Used obi-wan's lightsaber several times

Disappointed face ™️

Gets always scolded for shit Rex has done

Tired and runs on spite

Wifi connections are great with him nearby

Waxer and Boil are his trouble twins

Is one second away from a meltdown

Has a group chat with his batch mates

He hates it

Always up too late working on the next strategies

Actually dislikes chess

Loves close combat

Doesn’t wear his kama bc his spin kicks would lose on impact

Shares a braincell with the 212th

Guns? No. Tackle the enemy who killed several jedi

Good intuition but not force sensitive (he is dense like a rock in that case)

Jango but kind, warm, soft , loving

#headcanons #commander fox #commander neyo #commander cody #current top 3 fav faves #thxuuuu for the ask🧡🧡🧡 #star wars #tcw #sw tcw #the clone wars #cc 1010 #ask me any clone with or without a setting and i will try to give my hcs #tired ness #more hcs!!!

[one-vivid-judgment]

I'm not sure if you have a character request limit but I couldn't help myself with the fluff! Could we get some headcanons on how the following characters would propose?: Yamai, Eiji, Ebina, Tomi, and Sawashiro? Thank you in advance! 💚

Oh brother, I'm sensitive af bc pre-period hormones do be hitting like that and the cuteness of it all actually made me tear up 😭😭

Yutaka Yamai

See, normally that wouldn’t be his thing. Either you propose or he’s most likely not gonna do it himself. Last time he tried to follow his heart and do something for someone he was in love with, he was framed for murder and had to flee to Hawaii, for fuck’s sake! If you proposed though, he would say yes 100%.

In the very odd case that he took the initiative and proposed though, it’s gonna take him so much mental preparation beforehand. It’s gonna be nothing fancy; no out in public, no expensive restaurants, no one but you and him. Probably at home, doing something so mundane as watching a movie while he hugs you from the back so it’s harder for you to make eye contact.

It’s one of the only times that you can think of that he’s had trouble getting the words out. His confession won’t be anything too fancy either; he’s gonna go straight to the point and tell you how it is. He loves you, he wants to be with no one else and wants you in his life forever, so... Would you marry him?

Eiji Mitamura

A fucking wreck of a guy. Cause first of all, in his head, after everything he’s done and after serving his time, there is no way you’d want to marry him, even if he is trying to change. Of all the people in the world, why would you pick the guy who was willing to hurt a child, manipulated and blackmailed a woman, faked a disability to garner sympathy and has endured public humiliation ever since? Sure, you saw something in him (though he doesn’t know what, exactly), but you wouldn’t be willing to go that far, would you?

You know he’s got something eating him up, but he brushes it off whenever you ask him. So, you just let him sort out his thoughts himself and come to you when he feels ready. It’s not easy though, because you know he’s beating himself up over something that probably is fucking ridiculous.

Well, no, it wasn’t fucking ridiculous after all: he wanted to fucking propose, but didn’t know how. It’s super simple, and could barely even qualify as a proper proposal; he didn’t buy a ring, he didn’t get down on one knee, he just totally broke down over dinner one night when you asked if he was okay and he told you everything. He loves you, he wants to be with you forever, but how realistic is that? With all the baggage he has, why would you want to be with him over someone more... less like him? Of course, he would love it if you said yes, but... you don't have to feel forced to accept, or anything! You’d probably have to kiss him to make him shut up and then say your piece.

Masataka Ebina

Pulls out all the stops to the point that you can see him coming a mile away. Not that he cares—only the best of the best for you, obvious as he may make it look. If you outright ask him if he has something planned for tonight though, he’ll just smile it off and say, “Why don’t you mind your own business for now, huh sweetheart?”

Kind of a stereotypical, picture-perfect proposal when you think about it. Fancy restaurant, people around to watch, the ring with the fattest diamond he could find at the jewelry shop. You bet there are also candles and expensive wine, and of course he is going to pay for the meal, so order to your heart’s content.

Probably prepared a whole fancy speech as well. Absolutely no shame to spout all that in public whatsoever either—he can tell you are going to say yes regardless of how he confesses, he’s kind of a cocky son of a bitch in that regard, but he wanted to make it extra special for you anyway. Besides, you gotta give these people a good show, right?

Eric Tomizawa

This guy proposed once, yeah. But seriously, do you think he has any idea whatsoever on how to do it a second time? It’s like his brain short-circuits and suddenly Tomi.exe has stopped working. You ask him how he proposed to Marie? Oh, he remembers it all down to the last detail. But he’s not about to do the same thing for you. He’s not so lame that he will reuse a whole proposal.

You can kinda tell he’s plotting something behind your back. He gets startled and denies it very vehemently when you ask if there is something wrong. So vehemently, in fact, that you can tell he’s lying. He is not a very convincing liar to begin with, but the way he scratches at the back of his neck and his laugh gets all high-pitched is pretty telltale.

All-out, public proposals are not his thing, so no fancy restaurants in his agenda. He will, however, take you out on a date first, then offer to go for some ice cream, then a walk down at Aloha Beach to finish off. Pretty sunset, nice weather, and then he’s down on one knee. Sure, the ring is nothing fancy, but it’s all he could afford with his taxi driver income, and it is pretty regardless. He’s all nervous and stumbles on his words a few times, but that just makes it a more 'Tomi' proposal.

Jo Sawashiro

You thought Yamai was closed off? Try this guy. First off, he thinks he’s too old to be getting married at this point. Then again, he really does love the feeling you bring to him—it’s an inner peace he’s never felt before, and why lie... it makes him feel good. But honestly, how do you propose at this stage of life? He never even proposed to Ikumi, they only lived together, so it’s not like he has previous experience to go off of.

It’s very likely that it won’t be a proposal per se. You’ll just be lying down in bed after making love one night, and when he thinks you are sleeping, he’ll kinda... blurt it out. A simple enough “God, I want to marry you”. He gets soft after making love (not just fucking, but when it’s deliberately softer, more gentle) like that, sentimental even.

As it turns out, you were not asleep. You kinda scare the shit out of him when your eyes pop open right after he says that. It’s late at night, but really, you’re gonna have to talk things through right now or else, he’ll just go back to his closed-off self in the morning and pretend it never happened out of embarrassment. You want to marry him too, no matter what he’s done or how old he thinks he is for it. He can buy you the cheapest ring at the shop, or no ring at all, and you would still want to marry him.

#ryu ga gotoku #like a dragon infinite wealth #lad infinite wealth #yakuza like a dragon #yakuza headcanons #yutaka yamai #eiji mitamura #eric tomizawa #masataka ebina #jo sawashiro #.txt #anon ask

[madewithspice]

I don't know if you accept requests like thus, but could I ask for hange hcs or aot hcs as a regular students? I would like to know their routine and hobbies!

Hello how are youu?

Yes of course, our ask box is open, all requests are welcome. I’m just going to assume these are uni students you are asking for :)

Note: I am British so the uni content is based off what I know takes place in England.

AOT Characters As Students

eren yeager - that student who either sleeps in the back of the class or doesn’t attend at all yet surprisingly he gets decent marks. He is very nonchalant about everything related to studying. His revision method is procrastinate then cram it all in the night before the exam. I can see him studying something like marketing as a major. This man will never stay on campus longer than he needs to. The second the lecture is done he just disappears.

mikasa ackerman - she is the quiet student who gets along with everyone and generally gets good marks. Will tutor others and shares notes to the people who are not in. Will sign you in to the lecture when you ditch the lecture. Somehow she manages to juggle uni and two part time jobs AND still have time to hang out. I can see her studying physiotherapy.

armin arlert - we all know this boy is a little nerd. He lives in the library and self studies other majors whilst studying his own of criminology. He takes his studies very seriously and is a well known top student. Is there every lecture right at the front with his two iPads, not to show off but because he actually uses both at the same time. Out of everyone Armin has the most extracurricular activities, he tutors and works part time, he also volunteers during the holidays.

jean kirstein - he is a mix of Eren and Armin. Sometimes he’s the slob at the back of the class and sometimes he’s the nerd at the front. His whole year just fluctuates up and down. But overall he gets good marks and that’s enough for him. He definitely thinks highly of himself because he studies law but he has Connie and Sasha to bring him back down to Earth. He is on the football team and the baseball team. He’s known as the guy who slide tackled into the goal post and Connie will never let him live it down.

sasha braus - that student who eats in the back of the class and brings the most outrageous meals to try and eat sneakily. She has a whole vlog where she has mukbangs during her lectures. Somehow never gets caught and is always praised for being a good student by the clueless professor. Despite all the snacking, she is a decent student and does try her best to complete assignments and contributes to the workshops. She may act dense but she is quite capable of both working and studying well. Definitely no extras for her, she needs her rest.

connie springer - he is the class clown hands down and all the joking around shows on his results. Sometimes he can’t even scrape a pass but at the end of the year, by some miracle, he passes and celebrates like he was given student of the year. Plays for the basketball team despite his height issues. Let’s face it, he’s there for the parties not the studying so imagine the shock when he found our civil engineering was not as easy as he thought.

erwin smith - the student who always always asks a shit ton of questions and confuses everyone who thought they understood. Takes his role as top student to heart and will compete against everyone. He will flip out if he doesn’t get the highest marks. Submits his assignments in the next day because he’s a fucking swot like that. He tutors but most of his students are scared of him and he revels in that. Is a control freak and knows it. His rich businessman’s son vibes fits well with his accounting and finance major.

hange zoe - that student who barges into the lecture room late and with majority of the items of their room. Smart af but the cooky-ness and general weird behaviour overshadows it. Hange is that student who will be extra and bring in a typewriter or find the craziest topics to do their assignments on. Loves the idea of studying what was and how it came to be so picked anthropology to major in. Has their hands in every extra club ever. Always, always runs everywhere, I don’t think hange knows what walking even is!

levi ackerman - the grumpy lone wolf student who HATES group work or any human interaction yet somehow is the most popular guy in uni. Even the first years can’t help but swoon at the sight of him. The fact he studies history just makes him even more attractive to everyone so he purposely goes out of his way to be unapproachable. He has his close friend, and I mean just one friend, and the rest are just extras in his life. Never joins in with anything fun or exciting and definitely no sports club but taekwondo does tickle his fancy.

- Kiki.

#attack on titan #aot hcs #aot headcanons #shingeki no kyojin #shingeki no kyoujin headcanons #eren yeager #jean kirstein #armin alert #levi ackerman #erwin smith #mikasa ackerman #sasha braus #connie springer #hange zoe #aot hange #aot eren #aot sasha #aot connie #aot jean #aot levi #aot armin #aot mikasa #aot erwin #aot anime #sfw blog

[str0l0gy]

2 A.M. : LEE HEESEUNG

“NOTHING HAS HAPPENED, BUT ALMOST.”

IN WHICH you don’t wanna anything serious with your best friend, but something like that.

GENRE plug!leeheseung x fem!reader, situationship, forbidden relationship, fluff

WARNINGS & DISCLAIMERS illegal activities, kissing, mentions of smoking weed, complicated relationship shit, profanity

YOU HEARD a car pull up to your house: headlights off, blending in with the darkness of the late night. It was 2 A.M. The time when your plug and you would go on the late night drives, sometimes you would get to do deliveries with him. You would look forward to this time every Friday; it was the time in which you would get to spend the most time with the boy you like. Not only was it super late, but you knew your affiliation with him was looked down upon — by both your parents and friends — so if you were to get caught, you would be in deep shit.

Lee Heeseung was your best friend since forever. Ever since middle school, you two were inseparable. High school came along and that’s when he got caught up in his business. He realized that his parents weren’t going to support him financially anymore, for some obscure reason, so he decided to take this path as he found it easy to do. Sure it was risky, but he was willing to take the risk of it meant that he would have a roof over his head and three meals a day in front of him. He started skipping school, appearing for a short amount of time like once or twice a week. A lot of students became aware of his whereabouts; his mysterious aura drew them to him. He was well known in middle school because of his basketball skills; his reputation took a 180° turn in high school. From the talented basketball player to the drug dealer.

You didn’t care about all those titles people gave him, because he was still the sweet boy you knew in middle school. So, why were people so against your involvement with him? The adults didn’t know he was selling weed, they only knew that he skipped class and was a ‘bad boy’ in their eyes. Your parents didn’t want his bad influence spreading to you. Your friends were just looking out for you. They knew that what he was doing was a dangerous thing, selling weed was a risky hustle for him to be doing, especially in high school. Heeseung himself knew that and tried to pull away from you, but you didn’t allow that to happen. All because of a promise you made to him: “I promise, I’ll never leave your side.”

So you found yourself in the passenger seat of his car. You don’t know when it started, but something in you started to care for him beyond just friends. The feeling was mutual; maybe it was the fact that you were the only one who was really there for him or maybe it was just the teenage hormones that caused you two to feel that way, but you didn’t mind it at all.

His phone vibrated, meaning someone had texted him, “Y/n, check who it is.”

You grabbed his phone only to be met with the contact name of a girl named “Valerie…” He let out a disappointing sigh, “Tell her I’m busy.”

You didn’t even get to read the text to him and he already knew the response he was going to tell her. She wanted to meet up with him, to hook up to be more specific. You weren’t surprised; it wasn’t rare for Heeseung to get messages similar to this, after all, he is very attractive. But you also weren’t going to lie and say that it didn’t upset you every time he brings a girl up; although you did the same to him, it was a little thing you two did to get at each other.

You two weren’t exclusive, oh no, you two were just friends… Friends who shared glances, tension, feelings, and almost-kisses. Nothing has happened between you two, but there were multiple occasions in which something almost happened. The feelings you two had for each other were unspoken — never said anything, but you knew they were there —.

Your phone started ringing, snapping the silent tension in the car in half. You quickly answered the call after reading the contact name, “Oh, hey, Yeonjun, what’s up?… Uhh, I’m sorry, I’m busy right now, so I can’t…” Heeseung’s ears perked up at the sound oh his name. He glanced at you, and upon seeing a smile on your face, he swallowed hard at an attempt to calm himself down.

“Yeah, of course! You can come over tomorrow. Bye!” Heeseung clenched his jaw to stop himself from saying anything stupid.

You noticed the boy started speeding up rapidly, your heart started to beat faster in excitement, and you smirked slightly to yourself because you finally got a reaction out of him. His friends always tell you how jealous he gets when you talk to other guys, so you were aware of the fact that Heeseung was jealous; you never got the opportunity to see his jealousy, maybe this was your chance.

He smoothly parked his car at an empty parking lot, where you could see a guy with a hoodie on approach his car. Heeseung rolled his window down as he got closer, “Yo, Heeseung. What’s good?”

“Nothing much.” His answer was dry.

“Hey, princess. You mind passing me the pre-rolls?” Heeseung turned his eyes to you, making your cheeks heat up. Your fingers grazed as you passed the pre-rolls to him, “Thanks.”

“Who that?” The guy peeked further into Heeseung’s car to get a better look at you. “That’s my girl, so back up.” Your smile widened as you heard those words come out of the boy beside you.

“Aight, aight.” He put his hands up in defense, “How much is it?”

“Twenty per roll.”

“Give me two.” Two twenty-dollar bills were handed to Heeseung as he gave him the joints, leaving him with only one more joint.

Without wasting a second, Heeseung turned his whole body towards you, “You wanna smoke this?” The boy held a joint between his fingers. Your eyes lit up at the sight, “Yes! Are you going to smoke it with me, though?”

“Nah, I can’t.” You have him a confused look, “I’m driving you home, so I can’t.” You nodded, understanding his point. He never liked driving under the influence while you were in the car with him.

“Shit, I can’t smoke that alone, Heeseung,” you whined while taking a good look at the joint in front of you. But your expression change to a sly one as you a brilliant idea popped up in your head, “How about we smoke it at your house?”

He laughed at your idea, finding it cute that you wanted to smoke with him. The ways your eyes lit up when you asked him made it impossible for him to say no, “Okay, okay, but I have to say something first.”

“Shoot.” He looked nervous as if what he was about to say was the worst thing in the world, so he took a deep breath to relieve the anxiety.

“I don’t like it when you talk to other guys like that.”

“Like what?��� You tiled your head to the side, acting clueless, but you wanted him to tell you directly what he meant.

“Fuck it,” he mumbled before continuing, “I want you, y/n. I want you all to myself, I can’t stand seeing you with other guys and I hate when you talk to me about them, I love you.”

You were dumbfounded at the information Heeseung just threw at you so suddenly. The words you wanted to say couldn’t find their way out of your lips, so you showed him. You showed him how you felt. His lips felt yours on his, passion radiating off both your bodies. His big hands cupped your face to deepen the kiss, which made you smile.

“Holy shit,” he pulled away, you giggled at his reaction, “You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting for that.”

“Yeah, yeah, playboy. Can we go smoke this now?”

#enhypen #enhypen imagine #kpop #enhypen x reader #enhypen fluff #enhypen oneshot #enhypen scenarios #fluff #angst #lee heeseung #lee heesung x reader #heeseung #enhypen fanfiction

[arcielee]

Dancing in the Dark

Tom Bennett x OFC Summary: War is spilling over Europe and a route is being created to help POWs escape occupied France. Sometimes love does not last forever, but lasts long enough. Warnings: Smut implied, sad af, some misogyny cause it's the 1940s

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 - ende

Chapter 6

The days were quick, with an easy routine for Tom to help aita and the boys around the farm, while Vera remained with ama and Giulia to complete household chores and prepare supper. The end of the day meal was an exchange of stories from the day’s events and a glass of wine for dessert. Bernard would often give an update to the next steps, letting them know that his uncle had the passports prepared and how he would meet them at the Port of Gibraltar with tickets for one of the merchant ships.

Vera found herself lost in thought about Tom and their last night in Pamplona; she found she craved to feel the warm touch of his hands and the softness of his kisses. They were curled up in the bed, with her head on his chest while his fingers played with her curls. 

“A merchant ship,” he hummed. “I do not miss being at sea.”

“It is cheap,” she turned her head, resting her chin on her palm to look at his face. “It is best to be…” she thought for a moment. “In-conspic-us?” 

He smiled and tilted his head down to kiss her hairline. “Inconspicuous.” He looked ahead again for a pregnant pause. “Vera,” his voice the low timbre of the late night. “Would you still love me if I was just a pig farmer?”

She giggled at his question. “Tom. I will love you no matter what,” she stated as a fact, her eyes curious to his question. “Even if you were a Schweinebauer.”

His lips curled and he hummed again. “What if we stayed in Pamplona?”

Her expression froze at his words.

His expression was hard, but he did not press and instead pulled her back against his chest, wrapping his arms around her and burying his face into her dark curls.

“Spain is untouched by the Nazis,” he continued. “We could stay put and I can find work–”

“For how long?” Vera asked him, her words slow. “How long does Spain remain untouched by Germany?” She pushed to sit upright, her fingers trailing his bare chest and causing his skin to raise to her delicate touch. “Tom, we owe this to Webster and to the people depending on us to verify this route. I…” her words failed her and she could not finish her sentence.   

The following morning was somber; she woke and dressed in her knitted skirt and blouse that Giulia had been good enough to wash for her, though her heart would miss the comfort of the ruffle skirts leant. Her knapsack was packed and she looked to see Tom, who was dressed and waiting for her. 

He reached for her hand and they went downstairs, to be greeted with hugs and whispers of good luck from aita and ama, then Bernard and Giulia gave them their papers and walked them to the station. Vera did not mind when Guilia hugged her. “You could have kept the skirt,” she whispered. “Green is your color.”

“When I come back,” Vera promised.

The train ride rumbled and Tom held her hand without a word and her own expression was stoic, but her eyes were glassy; she peered through the compartment window and watched the scenery change with the train ride. Vera eventually pushed back and rested her head on his shoulder, closing her eyes to hold back her tears, a soft smile when she felt him kiss the top of her head, him resting his cheek against. Her hands fidgeted with the gold band on her finger and he eventually took her hand, bringing her palm to his lips for another kiss. 

They arrived at Gibraltar, exiting the train with the crowd and eyes watchful for the uncle. “How will we know?” Tom asked her, but she held his hand and pulled him towards a tall man with ice-blue eyes that twinkled. 

“Êtes-vous Vera?” He asked, peering at them both. Are you Vera?

"Oui," she nodded and gestures towards Tom. "Et voici mon mari, Tom."

I am. And this is my husband, Tom.

She felt choked with her words and knew she would miss saying them. 

The man introduced himself as Lucay, the young brother of Lyam. He was tall and a bit leaner, with the hint of silver beginning at his sideburns. He congratulated them on their arrival. “You will be home soon,” he said with a smile. 

They had enough time for a small meal and he walked them towards the docks and watched to verify they boarded the ship. There were maybe a hundred civilians in total, who were ushered towards accommodations and assigned to rooms. 

“I feel they may have spoiled us at the villa,” Vera said when they entered the cabin, smaller than the motel room shared before.

“I had more space on the Exeter,” Tom looked over before setting down her knapsack he carried. “C’mon, lets see her off.”

The deck was alive with the crew, preparing to weigh anchor, and the waves crashed along the side as the convoy began to shift. Vera felt her stomach lurch and Tom wrapped an arm around her. “Easy, love,” he whispered in her ear. “Take deep breaths and it should pass.”

“Should?” She asked, her eyes pleading. “How did you manage this?”

He shrugged his shoulders. “Kept busy with hobbies while I was on duty.”

Tom and Vera kept to themselves and continued the ruse of newlyweds fleeing France, spending their days below deck to hide from the sweltering sun and walking the deck when the sun set. At night, he would lay his head in her lap and she would continue to read The Hobbit to him. 

“‘And why should not they prove true?’” She read, her tone soothing. “‘Surely you don’t disbelieve the prophecies, because you had a hand in bringing them about yourself? You don’t really suppose, do you, that all your adventures and escapes were managed by mere luck, just for your benefit?’” 

“Why shouldn’t he?” Tom interjected with another one of his questions.

She paused and leaned over to kiss his mouth. “We are at the end,” she smiled and continued, “‘You are a very fine person, Mr Baggins, and I am very fond of you; but you are only quite a little fellow in a wide world after.’

“‘Thank goodness!’ said Bilbo laughing, and handed him the tobacco jar.”

He watched as she closed the book and asked, “That it then?”

“Yes, it is over.”

“But what about his book?” 

“I am not sure if Mr. Tolkien plans to–”

“No,” he waved his hand. “Bilbo’s book. There and Back Again.”

She smiled at him, her heart seized in her chest for a moment and she leaned over to kiss him again. “That did not answer my question,” he said when she broke away and she laughed, setting the book down and grabbing his collar.

The morning began with a bleak streak of sunlight battling the fog that rolled from Britain, the beginning of autumn brought a cool, crisp wind that ripped at their clothes. The deck was hectic, as supplies began to unload and the passengers ached for solid ground. Tom held on Vera’s hand as they weaved through the mess, pushing out and away from the crowd.  

They found a small café and grabbed lunch. Tom did not touch his food and her chest felt heavy, knowing what was to come. “Come with me to Manchester,” he started.

“Tom–”

“I know you feel this obligation to Webster, but risking your life? For what reason?” His brow furrowed, his tone grew heated with his words. “This guilt you carry with you for some bloke you didn’t even love, but I am here, alive, and in front of you.” 

“It is more than what I want, Tom,” she cried, the frustration that hovered over them spilling into tears. “We have been fortunate, but I cannot just walk away when lives are dependent on me.” She took a breath. “It is not just the doctor, but Henriette, Jacques, those soldiers in the hospital beds who also just wish to be home… I have to do this, Tom. It is the right thing to do.” 

He stared at her, the red tinted his cheeks and the tips of his ears, bringing out the copper tones to his golden locks. “Fuck,” he cried out and paused. “Vera, my dad would love you, Lois too.” He shook his head with a grim smile. “So fucking honorable.”

She wished to reach across and touch his hand, but his body language spoke otherwise. A moment passed filled with the sounds of cutlery touching the porcelain plates and chewing quietly. They paid and pushed to exit the café, Vera following him outside and Tom stopped, turning to her and still looking just as aggravated. “So what do I do now then?” 

“You will take a taxi to Manchester,” she sighed, pressing some bills into his palm. “That was the point, so you can have the freedom to do what you want. Tom, I–” but her voice broke off. 

Vera did not want to speak because she was unsure if she could trust her feelings at this moment. War had its chokehold around them and it made every moment so precious with the uncertainty of tomorrow. But she did know that if she left with him, she would hate herself for it as much as she had grown to love Bennett, Thomas. 

“I must do this,” she said instead. “I understand if you hate me for it, but as long as this war goes on, I must do my part.” 

She looked up to face Tom, expecting a backlash response but instead saw the glow of his brilliant blue eyes watching her. His lips pressed into a thin line and relaxed, his tongue wetting them. “I hate that you are like this,” he began, but he took a step to close the distance between them. “You are so damn stubborn, too.”

“You are cocksure,” she replied, her eyes narrowing onto him. “And arrogant.”

“I am,” he agreed, smiling when he saw her reaction, her stoicism cracking. “You have a silent reserve that forces me to self-reflect and I cannot stand it. It is like you have this heart that is too pure for this world right now and I want you to be as selfish as I am feeling.” Tom reached for her hands and she relished in the warmth they held; his palms were large and calloused, but also gentle. He brought her knuckles to his lips and kissed them, holding them for a moment, his thumb pressing into the golden band she still wore, before bringing them back down. “I cannot convince you to leave with me?”

Her jaw and her throat tightened with tears but she forced a small smile. “You cannot.” With his sigh, she added, “But I will come back to you when this war is done.”

“Who knows when that will be,” he sounded defeated. “Who knows where I will be?”

Vera shrugged. “I will find you,” and she kissed his cheek, turning to walk away and to find a bank, as Webster’s notes instructed. 

And Tom watched her skirt swish with her steps, a small smile on his lips.

Ende.

-----

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#tom bennett #we need more tom bennett fanfic #tom bennett x ofc #world on fire #ao3 #thanks for reading #♥ #dancing in the dark

[drainingco]

meal$pø moment

stir-fry broccoli & spinach w garlic, ginger & oyster sauce

low af calories you can actually fill up on it

tastes reallyyy good

super super easy to make

https://youtu.be/XvYU7beSRGg?si=TWzrg6HQKg_LNU9a

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