#stur draws

[sturthepotofmadness]

Because I’m bored, I decided to make some drawings based on @batghostgirlfan’s recent poll about putting the TFA Autobots into these things called EGO suits from this thing called Lobotomy Corporation. I think the abnormalities look cool and went “let’s fuse them instead!” Some of these were definitely harder than others, but these were fun to draw.

Also, after the first one I’m going to be putting a cut so this post doesn’t become a massive wall while scrolling.

(Cough also maybe a part one of Transformers Animated and Lobotomy Corp/Library of Ruina fusions because I have ideas and I’m having fun cough)

Optimus as the Queen of Hatred

Bumblebee as Queen Bee

Bulkhead as Happy Teddy Bear

Prowl as Ppodae

Ratchet as WhiteNight

Sari as Laetitia

Jazz as the Silent Orchestra

Arcee as Army in Black

Also surprise! (Younger) Ratchet as Plague Doctor (cuz we don’t trust the Plague Doctor folks)

#stur draws #transformers animated #lobotomy corporation #lobcorp #tfa optimus prime #tfa bumblebee #tfa bulkhead #tfa prowl #tfa ratchet #tfa sari #tfa jazz #tfa arcee #the queen of hatred #queen bee #queen bee lobcorp #happy teddy bear #happy teddy bear lobcorp #Ppodae #Ppodae lobcorp #WhiteNight #WhiteNight lobcorp #Laetitia #Laetitia lobcorp #the silent orchestra #the silent orchestra lobcorp #army in black #army in block lobcorp #plague doctor lobcorp #I have zero idea if any of the abnos have tags so let’s see! #fusion

[cookiepie111]

˳ ׁ 𝅄 ✧Where rivers flow✧ 𝅄 ׁ ˳

A/N : @shotmrmiller has a bath maiden au with ghost I was thinking about könig next thing you know boom! König x black reader. Please like and reblog. Suggestive. Not proofread

• Gladiator könig

• He's never been happier to have a private bath. Having to share with others in the public bath was awful, constantly looking over his shoulder huddled in the corner. In and out. Cleaning is a simple task. When the luxury of a private bath came he snatched it up

• You treat him like something special at least when you're bathing him. The way you wash his hair is nothing short of sinful. Smoothing lathered soap through his hair. Working your hands through his hair to his skull. Slowly. Drawing small circles ito his head when you reach the top. keeping mind to press down just enough to get his toes curling and send shivers through his spine and a rumble out his chest. He's been showing less and less resistance what started as small shivers and rumbles has turned into groaning and rolling hips.

• " Your hair has grown."

" Do you like it?"

"It will be difficult to fight, no?. Do you want me to cut it?"

" mhhh, just tie it up"

• He's always been a messy fighter, never shying away from tearing up his enemies, but now he's looking for a way to get blood, get as messy as he can so he can call you!

• It's cute the way you prepare his baths, like he's some fancy lady he heard you feel out of favour with your mistress.. or she fell from grace.

• full of sweet smelling perfumes, honeyed soap, flower Petels, it's really all wasted on a beast like him. He can't appreciate the flowers nor slowly savour the taste of sweet honey. No, he lays waste to such fields, grabs honey right of out hive like a bear.

• He gets to lay by the bath's edge, arms proped up at the edge. Taking up his heavy arm in your hands, gently rubbing at his body.

• You spend time on every part of his body, working warmth throughout his body with a sponge delicately and lovey.

• It's so embarrassing no one has ever touched him with such softness like he's something delicate. It sturs something up in him. He's so easily ruiled up why you are teasing him so much. He turns to syurp under your touch, thick and sweet

• In his own private bath, he can take up as much space as he likes, thighs spread wide in waiting on the baths edge. Again, gentle circular motions work along leg rising heat in him, but you always stop atop of his thigh

• It must be unnerving the way his stares wholly on you. He wants you to look at him for your eyes to meet and look away bashful like the sweet maiden he knows ( thinks). You are.

• He tries to pull you, laughs when he succeeds, seeing your white linen dress cling to your body. He loves your curls, defying the water coming back dry, untouched by the water.

• The little scowl on your face is the most emotion he's getting out of you. You're always so straight faced and professional when doing your job. A neutral face no matter what happens

• Be grateful he's just pulling you in. When you start to avoid his arms and he feels he's not getting enough attention he'll wait till your back is turned away from the edge of bath paying no mind to crashing water as könig rises out. A stone wall. He'll chase you round the bath. Could you imagine anything scarier. a bull running full speed at you talk nothing of the weapon between his legs. Surprisingly, he doesn't fall he's too quick and aglie on his feet for someone of his size, coming round sharp corners with ease. you, on the other hand, slip, falling right into his arms. Squirming in his tight hold. "Liebling stay still, you're getting me all excited," you freeze, realising his words, hips grinding into yours, matching your pace .

Bath time!

You're not entirely sure who's room he's raided maybe yours or the bath room.... probably accosted some poor noble woman to help him.

His hands move to mimick yours, heavy hand spilling fine smelling liquids and soaps into the bath filling the air with a sick unpleasant sent. The flowers are..dull some how like they're drowning in the water instead of floating atop.

He's /in/ the water with you, pressed up against your back, It's too close to intimate for the baths. he shouldn't be, that's not how things are done.

You frown at the sight of the comb. Too decorative for the baths, the type of comb used for events and ceremonies. His movements are stiff and awkward, like he's never held something in his hand like he isn't one of the strongest fighters here.

You feel the comb at the crown of your skull, slowly work its way down, shaking. "Ow!" These combs weren't made for your hair. They won't work. He stops, and your shoulders drop in relief till he tries again slower this time. His other hand reaches for your hair under the comb, teasing the hair down. " Stop, it won't work"

" It's fine I know what I'm doing"

" No stop"

grumbling rising out from the water. This man just won't listen.

"Come on, I'll make a proper bath for us" calling him over to the display of combs and bath liquids, placing the thick wide tooth comb in his hands. It's amazing his ability to make anything in his hands small.

" You'll have better results using this, okay?" You're not entirely sure he's listening. No, he's too taken aback by the full beauty of your body, brown skin wet and soft from the water, your hair properly soacked now sticks to your shoulders and curls around your face.

"Here"

Your back in the bath now not so nervous anymore now, you can lean into him just a little bit.

It's better now, he takes his time combing through your hair with his fingers, separating the large curls, coiling them around his finger letting them spring back when they fall. It's too much there isn't meant to be this level of intensity at a bath

You're hoping it's the bath that's just too warm, hoping he can't feel the heat that blooms at your cheeks

#könig x black reader #call of duty x black reader #cod x black reader #x black reader #könig x reader #cod x reader #my writing #black reader

[sir-fluffbutts]

Many artists hate AI

Why? I did not get it from your latest ask

Because its meant that it will get artists "Job" or why?

Sorry if you dont wann talk about it

i thought i should talk about it someday so here we are

----------------------

its not just about "AI will steal artists jobs", the advance of technology means it'll happen with everything someday.

im against AI because of how they do it

-------------

the way AI image generation works is

gather as much data (in this case, images) from a original sorce (aka "training")

when the prompt is written, the AI use the data it collected to create whatever prompt its given

but the thing is, the original data sorce (aka artists who draw the art AI used to "train") usually don't know or agreed with their art being used to train AI

and most AI "artists" don't openly tell people that their "art" is created with AI. which is the reason why "AI that creates fake timelapes and layers for AI art" is a thing now

so while the programers of the said AI and the ones who uses it to sell their "art" gains profit, the ones who've been extorted (aka the artists whos art was used to train the AI without their permission) don't get SHIT

---------

think it like this.

you own a pasta shop where a dish is 5$ . its not much but making pasta and watching people enjoy it is your passion, and it pays the bills that helps you keep going

one day, someone walks in, grabs every dish you made and walks out without paying or even asking

then, they dump everything into a big pot that can magicaly copy everything in it, stur it a few times and start to serve it to other people claiming they "made" it cause they used their pot to "cook" it

not just that, they start to sell it for 2$ per dish and wrote a whole book about "how to make delicious pasta FAST". and when the "big pot is bad" movement started, they quickly say "but i DIDN'T used the pot, its all made from my OWN SKILL"

so while the company that produces the "muliply big pot" and people who serves from it gains profit , you, the original cook don't get anything from all out of this

--------------

i agree that AI is just a tool, however, unless theres a forced rule that

• protects / pays the original artists properly

• have AI "art" to be clearly labled as one

then i, alongside with many artists will continue to be heavily against the use of the tool.

#which i do not think it'll be in the near future as laws don't get made easily. especially about non-physical propertys #ask #same goes with “AI voices” #we support real artists in this household 🫡

[dearestgojo]

Indifferent Love

Gojo x Fem reader

Summary: Satoru Gojo’s life gets turned around when you declare you’ve never held any feelings for him, and an arrangement is formed so that you may live the rest of your days in peace with each other. But upon your declaration, something stirs to life inside Satoru.

A/n: So sorry for the really late update, I got stuck on a pov.

Warnings:18+. Satoru gets touchy. Dubcon. Biting.

Chapter Eight | Chapter Nine | Chapter Ten | Series Masterlist | Wc: 13.7k

You wake up to the sound of the soft pitter-patter of the rain against the windows, gray clouds moving across the sky, casting a coldish gray tint on the city. The warmth of the blankets shields you from the room's coolness, beckoning you to snuggle deeper into them. You shift, nestling into the warmness, an arm pressing on your spine. Peeking over your shoulder you find Satoru still in bed, laying flat on his back with his head facing you. His torso is exposed, the warm sheets resting just above his hips, his nipples perked due to the ac running all night and the chill of the rain falling just outside your windows. 

Slowly turning to your other side, clinging to the blankets and the warmth, you face him. It's the first time you've seen him while he sleeps. The tops of his cheeks are tinted pinky, probably from the blankets and meaning he had just pushed them down not long ago. The white lashes that draw your attention to his blue eyes curve up, and even in the dimness of your bedroom, you can still see the white of them against his fair skin. His white hair falls onto his forehead, curling around his ears unbrushed, some of it sticking up on the crown of his head, you smile as you think about the cowlick he typically wakes up with. Your eyes fall further down, past his neck to his shoulders, where light brown freckles that expand over the back of his shoulders sprinkle out towards the front. Your fingers twitch as you want to trace over them and draw tiny constellations on his skin. 

You nuzzle yourself deeper into his pillow, the strong scent of his body wash filling your nose, and you watch him sleep. The act feels intimate, much more than you would allow yourself to be with him during his waking hours, but you allow yourself to enjoy the calmness of it. His eyes move behind his closed eyelids, the thin veins of his lids prominent against his white skin. 

The sound of the rain is interrupted by loud thunder, the inside of the room flashes in blue, and the rain outside starts to pick up. You can feel the hairs of your body vibrate as the thunder echoes through the room. Satoru sturs beside you, the hair on his forehead covering his eyes, eyebrows scrunching up together. Your heart skips a beat against your ribs, the inside of your mouth feeling dry as you wait for the inevitable fluttering of his eyes opening.

However, they remain closed, the only company you have is the sound of his light snores, the thunder, and the rain. Biting into your bottom lip, you shift your weight, laying flat on your back, and watching the lighting paint the inside of the room. You lay there, listening to Satoru's soft breathing and feeling his breath brush against your neck. The stillness of the penthouse is calming, but you also feel unease being left alone with your thoughts.

Kenji's visit plays on your mind like a broken record, fear lodging itself in your throat, and the sting of tears in the edges of your eyes. You take in a deep breath, still feeling the imprint of his hands wrapped around your arm, and the heat of his breath when you spoke down to him. The image of his face is barely recognizable to you. That wasn't the man you had handed the entirety of your heart to, he wasn't the man you had loved. At what point after you left had he changed so drastically that you didn't even recognize him?

Curling into yourself you chew on your thumb, your heart pounding against your ribcage. What if he showed up at your front door again? What if Kenji decided to approach you while you were with Satoru? What if he approached Satoru? You couldn't let any of that happen not knowing the extent of how far Kenji was willing to go just to win you back. You couldn't let more people get hurt because of you. 

Beside you Satoru stirs, groaning as he stretches on the bed, the back of his hand brushing against your back. The mattress shifts as he turns over to his side, facing your back, a few inches of distance still between his chest and your back. You can't see his face, but you can feel his eyes burning holes in the back of your head. Neither of you breaks the silence and just listen to the soft downfall of the rain against the window panels. 

You aren't sure of how much time passes by before Satoru finally decides to cut through the stillness. His voice is still groggy, barely speaking above a whisper as the bed moves again, "We're going to be late if we don't get up now."

You can feel where his palm presses down on the mattress, all his weight resting on your side of the bed. Peeking over your shoulder you look at him, swallowing down the lump in the back of your throat. He's sitting up the sheets covering his from his hips down, chest exposed to the cold room. He's running his free hand over his face, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. Clearing your throat you push yourself up, "Morning." 

Satoru looks at you, expecting you to say more, but you remain still and quiet next to him. Your hair falls over your shoulders, and the strap of your nightgown slips off. "Of course, that's all you have to say," he mumbles under his breath, covered by the sound of thunder, "Morning." He gets out of bed, and walks towards the closet, coming back out with a button-up shirt and a pair of gray dress pants. He looks at you where you are still seated on the bed, looking out the window at the rain. "Are you not going to get ready?" he asks, shoving his arm through an arm hole. 

"I am," you sigh, your eyes following the jagged fall of the raindrops on the glass.

He slides his other hand in, reaching down to start buttoning the shirt up, "When? Breakfast with my parents is in less than forty minutes."

You puff your cheeks, breathing out the air slowly, "In a minute. Just need a moment."

He doesn't push further and puts on his pants before rolling the sleeves of his shirt up to his elbows. Satoru can tell something is bothering you, but he knows you'll avoid answering him if he brings it up. Instead, he looks out the same window you're staring out of, tearing his eyes from your exposed shoulder, finding the descent of the raindrop calming and distracting for a moment. The room falling under the same silent calm from two minutes ago. 

You break the silence first this time, swinging your legs over the end of the bed, your bare feet padding along the cold floor toward the closet, "I'll be out in a few minutes." Satoru nods and watches you disappear into the closet, the sound of your shuffling through your clothes reaching his ears.

You run your fingertips along the cool fabrics of your shirts, slightly pulling them to examine them. You choose a light blue blouse with ruffles running down the front and a high collar. A pair of light brown wide-legged dress pants catch your attention and you reach for them, placing the stack of clothes on the bench that's in the center right across from a floor-to-ceiling mirror of the room before undressing. You avoid looking at yourself in the mirror as you pull the shirt over your head, forcing your head through the tight collar, and adjusting it around the shoulders, faint scars peeking out from beneath the hem. You slide your feet through the pant holes, raising the waistband to your waist, and tucking the blouse in, hiding the marks, it's only then that you look at yourself.

Your hair is still in disarray, and the bags beneath your eyes are prominent under the light of the closet. The pants you choose, cover your feet and drag on the ground, even after you slip into a pair of baby blue heels. It almost looks like you're wearing one of your signature long skirts. You blindly reach for a handbag and a grab pair of stud earrings and bangles as you walk out. Satoru's sitting at the end of the bed when you walk out, his hair brushed to the side, out of his eyes, a pair of black loafers hanging from the long fingers of his left hand while his right scrolls through his phone. He looks up when he hears you walk into the room, blue eyes looking you up and down. "That's new. I thought you'd wear a skirt again," he comments looking pointedly at your pants

You toss the handbag on the bed, making your way to the vanity as you slide the bangles down your wrists, "I thought it would be nice if I wore something else. We're just going to see your family there's no need for me to be extra and wear a skirt." Grabbing a hair tie, you look at him through the mirror, pulling your hair up into a ponytail, "Do you think I should have gone even more casual?"

He shakes his head and looks back down at his phone, "No. you look great in that, and were already running late as is." Standing up from his spot he, grabs his watch from the nightstand, looking at you once over as you tie your hair into a ponytail, "I'll be in the office, let me know when you're ready."

You watch him leave through the reflection, your hands high above your head as you pull your hair throw the hair tie, "Okay, I'll be out in a few." The room feels bigger once Satoru has left you alone, and for the second time since your wedding, you feel the loneliness swallow you whole once more. 

Dealing with Kenji's sudden reappearance, and quite frankly frightening, was more suffocating when you found yourself alone. Satoru being around provides you with a sense of safety in the hours that followed, there was something you never thought you would feel around him again. A sense of security. With your husband around, it was easy to forget that you had been followed mere hours ago by your ex who was adamant about saving something that no longer existed. It meant you didn't have to look over your shoulder in your own home, waiting for Kenji to suddenly jump out of the shadows.

But now that you were alone in your bedroom, the only sound that of the rain, and you felt as if someone was looking at you from somewhere in your walls. Walls that felt like they were closing in on you, shrinking the space between you and the ghost that followed you. It made the back of your head itch.

Finishing the last touches of your make-up you, slip your earrings into three holes, tugging at the lobe of your ear. Humming you take two steps back, looking at yourself in the mirror, your eyes skimming the room through it, as you look yourself once over, swallowing the lump in the back of your throat. Grabbing your bag you head downstairs, your eyes scanning over the place, the palms of your hands sweating. Your heels echo throughout the entire space, bouncing off the smooth shining tiles. 

You stand at the bottom step, staring at the clean kitchen counters, yesterday's evening playing before your eyes. The corners of your eyes prick and sting as the tears form, you blink a few times, breathing in deeply before turning to face the wall in front of you. 

"I'm ready, Satoru," you call out, taking one step forward toward his office, standing right at the corner waiting for him to come out. You hear shuffling before you see his white hair peek out from his office. He glances at you up and down once before stepping towards you, nodding his head to the door.

"Alright, let's go then."

The ride down to the underground garage is awkward, but not tense, you stay on one end while he stays on the other. You exhale as the doors close, your body relaxing as you feel secure with Satoru standing a few feet from you. The doors ding open, Satoru steps out and leads the way toward his car, keys jingling in his pocket, walking a few steps ahead of you. Your body becomes alert, eyes scanning the dark spaces of the floor. Looking up ahead you see Satoru looking at you from the driver's side of the door, head cocking to his left as he watches you act weird. You shrug, and reach your door, quickly getting in.

Satoru climbs in afterward, silently starting the car, and exiting the parking lot. Your eyes quickly adjust from the overcast clouds after exiting the parking lot, small raindrops hitting the windshield, your eyes immediately scanning the people around you. 

Satoru looks at you, his eyebrows raising, "Are you looking for someone or something?" Swallowing and shaking your head you turn around to look back ahead, running the edge of your pointer along the edge of your nails, watching the smooth edge dig into the skin. He turns back, adam's apple bobbing up a down, looking at you from the corner of his eye, "Has something been bothering you? You've been on edge since last night? I mean you almost jumped out of your skin when I got home last night."

You shake your head, letting out a sigh, turning your hand to run your finger over the smooth painted surface of your nails, "I'm fine."

He swallows again, watching your eyes dart across the street in front of him. "Do you really not trust me? Because I'm here if you want to talk about whatever is bothering you." Satoru asks, both of his hands on the wheel, adam's apple bobbing up and down.

You want to tell him about Kenji's visit, the comfort of his safety making you want to tell him so you can feel at ease, but bringing up Kenji meant sharing parts of you that you weren't ready to confront or share with him. "Why are you asking me this," you sigh heavily, "I already told you that nothing is wrong."

"I'm asking you because at times it looks like something is bothering you."

"Well, everything is fine. So just drive." you breathe out, picking at your cuticle, your eyes looking out into the street, avoiding Satoru's gaze.

"Fine," you hear him mumble, the leather of the steering wheel screeching beneath his palms as he grips it, "I won't push any further." 

You swallow the salvia in your mouth, puffing your cheeks and whispering, "Thank you."

~

The head housemaid greets you as you walk through, Satoru handing her the umbrella, the rain behind him starting to pick up again. He lingers behind watching as you walk further into the house, walking past the study, your eyes lingering on the closed door. You glance at him over your shoulder, waiting for him to follow. To lead the way to the dining room in the back of the house, where his parents were already. He takes a step away from the door, putting his hand in his pockets, reaching you, and standing beside you.

You turn to the door, skimming over the frame and the knob, remembering the number of steps it takes to walk from one end to the other. "Do you always keep this door closed?" You ask, tilting your head to look at your husband, "I remember it always being closed when I first arrived. Even before then, I had never seen it open until I moved here and opened it."

Satoru's eyes move over the door, the palm of his hand pressing on the small of your back, pushing towards the dining room, "Yeah, no one really uses it anymore, so the doors just stay closed." 

"Why?" 

Satoru swallows behind you, watching the light from the kitchen pour out into the hallway, "Why what?"

"Why doesn't anyone use it?" You return, standing at the end of the hall, "The room is really cozy, so why don't you use it?"

He looks down at you, running his eyes over the arch of your eyebrow and the curve of your lips, his heart thumping against his ribs. Your eyes close slowly as you blink up at him, time slowing down around him. He has the urge to bend down and press his lips to yours. Raising his shoulders and flattening his palm on your lower back forcing you to start walking again, "We just don't have a need for it. Let's just go eat now, I'm starving."

His answer satisfies you enough, and you turn to walk the rest of the way into the dining room. Satoru walks behind you, his parents coming into view along with a table set of food, both turning their heads to greet you both.

His mother greets the two of you first, raising her hand to wave you over, "You're finally here, come sit, sit. The food starts to get cold, we've been waiting all morning."

You smile at both his parents, walking to his mother and hugging her. "Good morning," you beam and walk around the table to take a seat next to Satoru's old usual spot while he greets his parents with a hug to his father and a kiss on his mother's forehead.

"Morning," he sighs, sitting down beside you and immediately reaching for one of the sweets on the table. 

"How was your morning?" his mother asks, the corners of her lips curved, the tone of her voice suggestive, "You took a while to get here."

Your face becomes flustered, words jumbled in your head while Satoru chokes on the sweet bread in his mouth. His dad who is usually stoic laughs, reaching across the table and patting his back, "Honey, you don't ask those types of personal questions at the table. It's a bit intrusive to ask that."

"Sorry, but it's the first time they're late for our Saturday breakfasts," she responds grinning over the rim of her glass of juice.

Satoru recovers from his coughing fit, rubbing a hand over his chest, "We're the late cause of the rain, mom." The tops of his ears turn a light pink, looking at you from the corner of his eyes, noting your awkward fiddling with your fingers, and the way you gracelessly way you reach for a serving of fruits. He looks back at his parents, grabbing a muffin from the center, changing the subject, "How was your morning?"

His mother sets her glass down, "It's been fine, even with the rain and all. Didn't get to work in the greenhouse because of it though. Y/n, you should join me next week if the weather is nice."

You cover your lips, nodding your head, "Of course," you swallow, dropping your hand, "I didn't know you gardened." 

She nods, swallowing the bite of food in her mouth, "I do. Something I picked up when Satoru was about two or three, it served as a dis-a way to get some me time away from that little devil on legs. I don't think I have to explain myself to you, y/n, you live with him by yourself now, so you understand. Let's hope your kids aren't anything like him, or you'll have your hands full."

His dad laughs at that, "Let's hope they don't. I don't even know how many nannies we went through the first few years." 

"I don't think I can't even count them on my hands." 

You swallow a bite of your fruit, glancing at Satoru from the corner of your eye, "Was he really that much of a handful?"

She chortles, the corners of her eyes watering, "Oh honey you don't know the half of it. If I anything I think being around you as a child mellowed him out, but when you weren't around he was a handful. One time he somehow managed to climb his way up to the chandeliers in the foyer. We had to call the firemen to get him down."

"Really?"

"Really, took a whole hour since he wouldn't stop swinging on it," Gojo Sr. Replies. 

"And if they are anything like him, expect them to also be clinging to you by the skirts. Satoru rarely allowed me anytime for myself."

Your lips curve upwards, taking a bite of pineapple, teasing him, "So you're a momma's boy."

Satoru ignores your teasing, taking a drink from his glass, and changing the subject, "Well if you didn't get to work in the greenhouse what did you do then, mom?"

"Oh, I tried helping in the kitchen, but I guess I was getting in the way cause they asked me to leave," She answers, the conversation fading into the background as Satoru continues to eat, his parents conversing among themselves after a few minutes, letting you and him have some peace while listening.

He glances at you, watching how you elegantly raise your food to your lips and chew carefully, nodding along to whatever story his parents are telling now. The sun peeks out from behind the clouds for a moment, rain still falling steadily outside the windows, casting a light on the side of your face when you turn to look at him. Your eyebrow quirks up when you find him looking at you, the sun disappearing back behind the gray clouds, and you lean in while raising your napkin from your lap. He stays frozen when he feels the soft material touch the corner of his lips, your eyes are cast low as your wipe the corner of his mouth. Your lips pursued together, and a low hum coming from the back of your throat. Time continues to be suspended as when you look up at him, your curled eyelashes more pronounced, drawing his attention to them. You sit back into your chair, smoothing the napkin over your lap once more, motioning to the corner of your lips, "You had some crumbs."  

Satoru blinks dumbly at you, frozen in his spot as the seconds tick by before he clears his throat and slowly turns back to his food. The warmth of your hand lingers in the air around him, the soft pressure weighing on the corner of his lips, along with the sweet scent of your skin. He breathes out through his nose, swallowing the salvia in his mouth, uttering, "Thanks." 

He spends the rest of the breakfast distracted by the fluttering of his chest and the flips in his stomach. He barely hears his parents address him until you shove your elbow into his side, forcing to ask them to repeat whatever question they had asked. His blue eyes glance at you from time to time, and at the bright smile that adorns your lips when you smile at his parents, feeling a spike of jealousy bloom in his chest. His eyes follow you down the smallest gesture. 

Even now as the four of you stay in the foyer bidding your farewell to his parents for the week, his eyes are on you instead of the plans that are being set up. He dissects the curve of your lips and the glint of your eyes, trying to fit the puzzle pieces of what he knew of you into something, someone, he could see and understand. That is until you shove your elbow into his side once more, his hearing refocusing on the sound of his mother's voice.

"What do you say Satoru?"

He shakes his head, white strands of his hair falling out of place, "Sorry, I-i didn't hear you."

You tilt your head and look up at him from the corner of your eye, "You're mom was asking if you were up for us having a housewarming party next Saturday. Before dinner, of course."

"I...um...sure, I guess. I don't really know about that stuff, so it's whatever you want." 

Satoru's mom claps her hands, "Alright then. Y/n and I can handle the details, all you have to do is show up, which shouldn't be too hard since it's at your house. Y/n, I'll come over sometime during the week and we can discuss everything, okay?"

You nod your head, hands clasped in front of you, "Okay, that sounds good to me." You hook your arm through Satoru's leaning into him, "We should really get going though. The rain looks like it's getting worse."

"Oh of course," His mom smiles, taking a step forward to wrap her arms around each of you, "It's so nice seeing the two of you."

His father gives a curt nod from where he stands next to his wife, "You be careful driving back, it's coming down out there."

Satoru nods, reaching for the umbrella one of the housemaids bring him, "We will." 

The drive back to the penthouse is just as quiet as the drive had been to his parents. With your entire body turned to face the passenger door and the smile you had given his parents erased from your face. Even the ride on the elevator is tense, either one of you standing on different sides, the sound of the penthouse door cutting through the silence when it slams shut behind him, followed by the sound of your heels clicking on the shining tiles of your home. He walks behind you, hands shoved in the pockets of his pants, watching as you sit on the couch and kick off your heels in a manner that is so unlike you. Unlike the you he'd known for most of his life, the version of you he'd grown accustomed to, was always poised and refined. 

Leaning on the arm of the sectional adjacent to you he watches as your rub the heels of your foot, his eyes darting to the large tv in your living room. The very same living you the two of you rarely shared. 

"Want to watch a movie?" He asks suddenly, standing up and looking around the coffee table for the remote.

You shake your head and collect your heels while you rise from the couch. "I'm tired, so maybe next time. I'll see you for lunch," you sight out, patting his shoulder before walking away from him, the floor feeling even colder.

The sky cracks, white flashing outside the windows as you walk up the stairs, illuminating your silhouette, and he stands in the center middle of the living room. "Guess I'll see you later," Satoru mutters turning on his heel to shut himself in his office as usual. Both of you let the loneliness of your loveless marriage settle into your bones instead of working on building the phony relationship into one that would be believable to those outside of the four walls of your home.

~

"Ono, Dr. Nomura is waiting for you in room three hundred and one. She needs some assistance with the patient in that room," The nurse at the desk tells him, barely glancing up from his phone. 

"Thanks for letting me know," Kenji answers, running a hand through the mess that is his hair and setting down the blue folder he'd been looking over. He makes his way over to room 301, people and rooms passing him, his head pounding as fluorescent lights shine down on him.  

It's been a week since he showed up at your house, and he can still feel the knot lodged in the back of his throat when he recalls the look on your face when you looked at him. You had been scared of him at that moment, eyes wide with tears streaming down your face. You had shaking even as you held the knife in it. He'd felt the guilt of the frightened regard you held him with as you begged him to leave. He hadn't meant to scare you, but when you refused to allow him to clear his name and told him you would remain with your husband, he felt vexed at the thought of you making another man happy. 

He nears the room, taking in a deep breath when someone walks out of the room next to the one he's about to enter, slamming face-first into his chest. He stumbles back, reaching forward to help keep the person steady. 

"I'm sorry," he starts, glancing down to see Shoko's dark hair and her flustered face that quickly turns into shock and contempt.

"You're good," she mutters, quickly taking a step to the side to walk around him, and continue with her day as if nothing had happened. But Kenji stops her once more, stepping in front of her. Shoko looks up at him, eyebrows raised, her fingers gripping the clipboard pressed against her chest. "Can I help you with something?" She snaps.

Kenji looks at her, he runs the back of his neck, uneasy as he struggles to think about how to ask about you. While it was true that he'd had a decent relationship with both of your closest friends, he wasn't exactly on good terms with either at the time. After your falling out, Kenji had rarely seen either of them. The last time he'd talked with one of them had been a few days before your wedding, but it had been radio silence since then. So standing here in front of Shoko, he felt the palms of his hands sweating and the back of his throat dry as he croaked out, "How's y/n?" 

Shoko looked up at him quizzically, asking, "Why do you want to know?" 

Kenji shrugs, looking over her head, "I'm just curious about how she's doing." It was a partial truth, he did want to know how you were doing, but he also wanted to know if you had told any of your close friends about what had happened last week. He wanted to know just how much his unexpected visit had affected you, and if he still had a chance of winning you back. The silence that followed him had a knot forming in the back of his throat and the palms of his hands feeling clammy, he all but glared down at Shoko, who was considering if she should tell him anything about you now that you were married. 

Letting go of her bottom lip with a soft pop she finally replies, "She's doing fine, moved to a really nice penthouse near downtown with her husband. I haven't seen much of her lately, she's been rather busy." 

Kenji nods and looks around the hospital hallway, doctors and nurses brushing past them, "So you haven't talked to her this week?"

Shoko shakes her head, placing the edge of her clipboard against the center of her stomach, "No, she's been busy planning a housewarming party with her mother-in-law. I'm actually headed there after work."

"You are?" 

"I am."

They both stand there awkwardly, Shoko thumbing the edge of the clipboard, neither knowing exactly what to say that their connection outside of work had been severed. They had never truly been friends, a realization that dawns on both of them as they stand on the side of the busy hospital hallway. It makes Kenji wonder that if hadn't walked into that party that day if he hadn't spotted you, would he and Shoko have become closer friends? or would they have continued as co-workers who would occasionally speak about a patient and run into each other? He knew that there was no point in asking himself that now, no sense in pondering over the what-ifs. He'd approached her with the attention of getting close to you and he'd accomplished that, that he and Shoko hadn't become close in the time you and he had been together wasn't entirely his fault. She could've also made an effort. 

The seconds tick by slowly, both waiting for the other to walk away first, but neither going about their day. It's not until there's a large clang of a tray falling from the room Kenji was walking into that they start to move around each other, awkward goodbyes stumbling from their lips. Kenji pauses at the door, turning to look at Shoko one more time, swallowing the saliva in his mouth, "Do you think it would be okay if I went with you." He sees Shoko's unease, and can already hear the excuse she'd make to keep him from going with her, but Kenji is quick to explain himself. Quick to tug at her heartstrings, "I just want to see her, nothing more. I promise."

Shoko bites on her bottom lip, her heart wavering between doing what was right for her friend, and giving in to the broken man that stood before her. Kenji knew that if you were standing in front of her this very moment she wouldn't have made the choice that she does. "Okay. I'll be in the parking lot after my shift ends at five. We'll be a little late, but I already told her I'd be running late. I'll wait for you by my car."

Kenji gives her a lopsided smile and a curt nod, "Thanks, Shoko. It means a lot."

"Don't mention," she nods back and turns to walk off to whatever she had to do next.

The rest of the day seems to drag on slowly, patient after patient coming in through the hospital door, all while Kenji does his best to not let the workload weigh on his shoulders. He takes several small breaks in between patients, walking out into the hospital courtyard to smoke, which just reminds him of how you use to tease him about it. Telling him it was ironic that he was a doctor, but didn't have a problem with enjoying an occasional smoke. And now every time he'd lean against the wall, watching the birds fly overhead, and a cigarette dangling from his lips he was reminded of you. Even now as he walks out into the parking lot, lighting a smoke, he can't help but think and yearn for those days. 

He doesn't make far into the parking lot before he spots Shoko. She has two cups of coffee with her as she leans against the hood of her car. Already rid of the white coat and dressed in a red blouse and white pants, her watch and a few bracelets dangling from her wrist. Her hair has been let loose from the loose ponytail she would wear to work, tucked behind her ears. She's sipping from one of the cups while keeping the other in place on the hood. She glances over the rim to spot him making his way toward her.

"You're not smoking that in my car," she states, pushing off the hood and handing him the extra cup, "I don't what the smell to stick to the seats."

Kenji sighs irritatedly, but still tosses the half-consumed cigarette, stomping out with his foot as he takes the cup, "Don't you smoke?"

"I do, just not in my car," she responds.

The drive to the is rather quiet, tall buildings pass by, and people are out on the streets. Life outside the window hasn't changed, but it seems to have lost some of its vibrance when you broke up with Kenji. Sure the birds still sing, and the sun still shines however life lacks magic, like the flowers swaying to the soft chirping of the birds, and the sun's rays sprinkling color along the streets. 

Shoko interrupts his thoughts, turning at a light, both of her hands on the steering wheel, "Are you really just going to see her?"

Looking at her from the corner of his eyes, Kenji nods and looks ahead, your building coming into view, "I am."

Parking the car, she looks at him, eyes reflecting the warning tone of her voice, "I'm going to choose to believe you because I know how much you cared and loved her, but if you choose to step out of line, I myself will cut off your balls and feed them to you."

Kenji gulps and raises his hands, "I promise I'm just here to see her. I won't go near her unless she approaches me first." 

Shoko exhales loudly, "Good. Then let's go." Both of them exit the car, Shoko two steps ahead of Kenji, leading the way to the elevator. The ride up is much like the car ride, silent, awkward, and tense. They both stand on opposite sides, Shoko leaning against one of the rails, her hand wrapped around it, facing Kenji. He feels her eyes burning a hole in the side of her head, as she asks, "How have you been?"

Suddenly Kenji is very much aware of the stubble around his chin, and the hair that curls at his ears. The stains on his shirt feel like a batman signal to the entire world that he was everything but fine. Swallowing the lump that forms in the back of his throat, he answers, "I've been better, honestly." 

"Then do you think it's a good idea to come here and see her?" Shoko hums, brown eyes glancing at the numbers.

 It almost slips that this isn't his first time coming here. That the last time he came here didn't go well. He swallows down the guilt that weighs heavy in the back of his throat. He tells himself that things will be different this time, he wouldn't react as he did then, and you would now feel safe with people around. Still, Kenji keeps in mind that things might take a turn south as they did last week, but he wants to remain hopeful that this time things will be different since the atmosphere will be different. "I don't know. I won't know until I see her," he replies as the elevator dings.

Stepping out first, Shoko peers at him over her shoulder, "Okay, then, we're here." There's the sound of laughter and conversation traveling down the hall, seeping under the large black door to your home, that makes Kenji doubt anyone hears Shoko's knock. And then the door swings open, the sound of chatter no longer muffled by the thickness of the door.

Kenji expects to see you answering the door, but instead, he's greeted by the sight of a white-haired woman with a bright smile and dressed in an expensive white sweater and light brown pants, hair pinned at the nape. She has a glass of red wine in her hand, cheeks dusted in a light shade of pink. "Shoko you made it," She greets, giving a side hug and pulling her in, "y/n and Utahime have been waiting for you." The woman glances back at Kenji who follows behind, hands shoved in the pockets of his pants, before leaning to not so much whisper, "I didn't know you were bringing a date. He's quite a looker." 

"Oh it isn't like that, he's just a colleague."

"That's what all you young people say."

Their conversation fades into the background as he glances around the bottom floor. Dark eyes searching for you around the crowd, at least thirty people blocking his view. And then he spots you in the living room, seated on the couch in a white puffed long-sleeved blouse and a cream-colored knee-length skirt with a pair of white pointed flats, leaning into the side of who Kenji assumes is your husband. His hand slung over the back of the couch, his hand resting on your shoulder as he speaks with the dark-haired person sitting adjacent to him. 

You look bored, sipping on a half-empty glass of wine, smiling when the two men look at you and nod. Utahime is nowhere to be found. The sound of Shoko's voice prompts you to look towards the kitchen, a smile starting to spread on your lips at the sight of your friend. That is until you spot Kenji standing between her and your mother-in-law, staring at you. 

You stand abruptly, startling both your husband and his friend, wine swishing in its glass. Your eyes are wide with fear, lips opened, but they also reflect anger. Kenji swallows, nodding his head to greet you, and watches as your husband reaches up to touch your hand. You tear your gaze away from Kenji and look down at your husband, your lips moving as you answer whatever question he just asked before handing him your glass of wine. He hesitates as he takes it, and brings your hand up to his lips to kiss the back of your hand before you walk away around the large sectional, towards the three of them. 

Kenji's eyes don't leave you just as yours don't leave him, he watches every step you take. The way you walk is graceful, your head held high, and one foot touching the ground before the next comes up, there's a slight sway to your hips. 

You approach your mother-in-law first, your hand resting on her shoulder, "Saori, I think I heard that Mrs. Fumiko was looking for you." Turning to give Shoko and him a smile and a nod, "Hello." 

The woman looks over her shoulder, her hazel eyes scanning the crowd of people, "Was she now? I wonder what that woman wants." She turns back to face him and Shoko, giving them a polite smile as she excuses herself, "It was nice meeting you, and Shoko it was a pleasure seeing you, as always, I'll see you around later."

The three of you watch the woman walk away, disappearing into the crowd before you turn back around to face both of them. Your face is unreadable, lips pressed together tightly, and your head held high as always. But Kenji knows you better than anyone, having seen you at your most vulnerable moments in the three years you were together. Your face might not say much, but your body language speaks for itself. One of your hands is clasped over the wrist of your other hand, hiding the fact that you're shaking where you stand. Your shoulders are tense, and your foot keeps bouncing as you look over at Shoko and speak as steadily as you manage.

"I need to talk to Kenji, please keep Satoru occupied," you say, hand pushing down on the door knob.

"Y/n I don't think this is a good idea," Shoko starts, glancing over her shoulder at the crowd, "People will talk."

You give her a tight smile, placing your hand on her shoulder, "Don't worry, this will be quick. Just keep my husband busy." With that, you pull Kenji into the room and close the door behind you.

The room you pull him into is dark, the only light that illuminates the space is the one coming from the lamp on the desk on the far wall from the door. It takes his eyes a second to adjust to the dimness, the large black leather sectional

"You need to leave," you angrily mutter through your teeth, your eyes darting toward the closed office door when some passes by, "Satoru's here, and you can't be here."

"Yeah, I saw that," Kenji grumbles, running a hand over his face.

Crossing your arms over your chest you glare at him, speaking sternly to him, "Oh don't sound so angry, especially after the shit you pulled last week. You have no right to sound like you're jealous. Stop showing up here unannounced. I don't want to see you ever. We ended things, and I'm married."

He lets out a sigh, looking at you, eyes saddened as he speaks to you, "I know that too. I've been reminded every day since I last saw you in your wedding dress. You've also made sure I don't forget that fact every time I see you. You don't even bother to let me explain myself."

"I don't want to listen to whatever bullshit you have to say. I know what I saw, and what I saw was you in bed with another woman."

Kenji clenches his jaw and growls, "I know that!" He takes a deep breath calming himself down, highly aware that people might hear him if he speaks any louder, "I know what you saw, but that doesn't mean I slept with her. Look, I don't remember most of what happened that day, so I need you to listen to me. I need you to allow me a chance to prove myself to you, and then we can go back to how things were."

Your hands drop to your side, your bottom lip caught between your teeth. He can see you thinking your next words through thoroughly. Weighing the cons and pros of allowing him to clear things up.

"Even if I give you a chance to clear your name, it doesn't change the fact that I'm now married, and that I'm not going to divorce my husband. In fact, I can't divorce him, and you know that." You tap your foot on the floor, and glance at the door, "I think this is the last time we should ever see each other. My husband is outside this door, and I have guests to attend to,"

Kenji cautiously approaches you, he waits for you to step back as he raises his hands. Dark eyes scan your face for any signs that he should step back before his rough hands grab a hold of your face. A small sigh escapes his lips when you don't move away from him, the ache in his heart nulling. Your skin is as soft as ever, but your face feels much smaller now.

"You've lost weight," he comments, running his thumb along the highs of your cheeks.

"My weight is fine. I'm fine." You reply, unconsciously melting into the warmth of his hands, eyes closing as you inhale the strong woodsy fragrance of his cologne. 

"Your face is smaller," He continues, voice laced with concern, "Have you been skipping meals again?"

Your eyes open, and you look up at him with a softened expression while you answer with a deep sigh, "I'm eating just fine. I'm truthfully eating more than I use to since I barely do anything these days but lounge around this place." 

Kenji drops his hands, standing straight in front of you, the heat of his body radiating off, "You know I can't let you go that easily, right?"

You visibly swallow, holding your head high, eyes lachrymose and voice quivering, "I know," You open to say something else when the door to the office suddenly opens, making the two of you turn toward it.

Satoru stands at the door, hand resting on the knob as he looks at you two with his head tilted while you and Kenji look like two deers caught in the headlights of a fast-approaching vehicle. You're both frozen in place, staring directly at the person who brings the entire farce you had spent months building tumbling down. Your husband moves into the room, leaving the door open, speaking as he closes the distance between you and him, "I didn't know anyone was in here." His tone is accusatory, and the gaze of his eyes and the lopsided grin when he finally stands beside you tell you all that he's thinking. Satoru wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you into his side and pressing a kiss to your temple, teasing you, "I've been looking everywhere for you, honey."

You allow yourself to be pulled into his side, your arm encasing his waist. All while you look at Kenji, whose fists are clenched, "Well, I'm right here."

Satoru's eyes go over Kenji's figure, from his feet to the messy overgrown hair that curls around his ears, "Yeah, I see that."

You tear your gaze off Kenji and look up at your husband, pulling off a bright smile, "Oh, I don't think you two have met. This is Kenji, he works with Shoko."

Extending his hand, Satoru offers it to the dark-haired man, "It's nice to meet you, Kenji. I'm Satoru Gojo, y/n's husband." 

Kenji looks at you once, biting the inside of his cheek before taking Satoru's hand, "Likewise. You have a lovely home."

Their hands drop, and Satoru looks down at you. You who are still looking at Kenji, with a look he can't read. A look that has the inside of his stomach twisting and dropping. He clears his throat and looks back at the man in front of you, "Well, I hope you don't mind, but my mother is looking for my wife, so I'll be stealing her from you."

Forcing a smile, Kenji shrugs, "Not at all. I think we've both finished saying what we need to say."

 "Again, it was nice meeting you. Enjoy the party, there's plenty of food," Satoru's hold on your waist tightens as he starts to lead you out of the room, "Come on honey, mom wanted to ask what you wanted to do with the chocolate cakes since no one seems to be touching them."

Kenji watches the two of you walk out of the office. Anger and frustration mix as he watches you walk out in the arms of another man. His frustration grows when Satoru leans into your ear and loudly whispers, "Do you hang out with him a lot?"

You keep your eyes ahead while your husband leads you through the door with a large hand on the small of your back. Headshaking a little while you walk out to mingle with the guests, "Not really. He's more of a friend of Shoko and Utahime's."

~

You blink up at the man, his and extended with a red cup, and a lopsided smile on his lips. You eye the cup, watching the bubbles fizzle up to the surface, the soft sound still reaching your ears even over the sound of people's chitchat. 

Shaking your head you decline the drink, your eyes scanning the crowd for Shoko who had dragged you to another of her work parties, "Sorry, I don't take drinks from strangers."

The man nods, dropping his hand, and following your eyes, "I understand that. Are you looking for someone?"

You peek at him out the corner of your eye, noting his strong jaw and plump lips, "I am. My friend. I came here with her, but we got separated when her boss wanted to introduce her to someone, I haven't seen her since then."

"What does she look like? Name? Maybe I've seen or know her," he asks, turning back to look at you, "I also work here." 

You twist your head to look up at him, chewing on your bottom lip. He's looking down at you, eyes expectant. Turning back to the crowd you describe Shoko to him, "She's about this tall, with shoulder-length brown hair, that is tied into a bun, and she's wearing a baby blue dress that stops above her knees." You pause for a moment, "Her name is Shoko Ieiri."

The man snaps his fingers, making you jump a bit at the sudden sound, voice rising excitedly, "Oh, I know Shoko. I think I saw her go outside a few moments ago."

"Oh, Hime must be here," you reply, pausing to scan the crowd, ready to make a beeline towards the front of the building, getting ready to excuse yourself, but the man speaks first.

"Can I ask how you know Shoko? I know she has pretty friends, but I didn't know she had a friend as beautiful as you." 

"We're friends from high school, and kinda roommates," you answer, barely looking up at him, your face feeling as if it's been set on fire.

He hums and nods his head, "Wow, that's a long time to know someone. So I'm betting you live with Shoko and Utahime since they're roommates."

"I do know Utahime, and my living situation is a little complicated, so I room with them sometimes." You turn to him when your brain registers just how much he already knows about your friends, "Sorry if this comes out rude, I know how you know Shoko, but how do you know Utahime? And that they room together?"

He takes a sip from his glass of wine before answering you, "I've been over to Shoko's place over a few times and I've met her a few times. Though I've never seen you there."

Squinting your eyes you choose to believe him, and turn your attention back to the crowd, spotting Shoko and Utahime on the other end. "I kind of still live with my parents, so I'm only at their place when I need a place to crash before an exam."

"That explains why," he smiles, the curve of his lips making your stomach do flips, "I didn't get your name though."

Taking in a deep breath you catch a whiff of his cologne, and the world around you seems to pause for a moment as you give him your name. "Y/n L/n," it sounds like a whisper in your ears, the words freezing, engraving the words in that moment in time, waiting for his name to be carved next to them. "What about yours?"

"Kenji. Kenji Ono."

~

The sound of the knife slicing through the grapefruit echoes throughout the bottom floor of the penthouse, and Satoru glances up when he hears you curse. The knife has been dropped on the cutting board, grapefruit cut into eight slices, and you're holding your finger up to your lips, muttered curses falling from your lips. If Satoru hadn't felt a pang of panic at seeing you hurt he would've been shocked by the string of words, but he finds himself standing quickly and walking over. 

Reaches for a paper towel, pulling your hand away from your lips to wipe the blood off. He sounds worried when he speaks to you for the first time this morning, "Does it hurt a lot? Did you cut deep?" 

You blink up at him, staring at the curve of his eyelashes, surprised at the tone of his voice. Your voice quavering as you answer, unsure of what to make of the action, "I'm f-fine. It was just a small cut. See I barely even bled, just need a bandaid, and I'll be good." Tugging your hand out of his hold, you hiss when you feel your finger sting. 

Satoru drops his hand, taking a step back and letting you wash off the blood, his brain catching up to his body. He feels confused by his own action, blue eyes staring at the blood that washes down the drain. He clears his throat, "Okay, I'll go get the first aid kit, we still need to clean it a bit so it doesn't get infected. You wait here." He pulls a stool out and heads to the open office door.

He makes way for his desk, reaching behind it to pull out the drawer where he keeps a small first aid kit with bandages, alcohol wipes, and a small bottle of hydrogen peroxide. When he looks back up, he finds himself replaying the scene in which he had found you yesterday. Alone in a dimly lit room with a man standing much too close to you for his liking. The air had been tense between the two of you, both quickly stepping away from each other when he stepped inside. 

Satoru hadn't brought up last night, too tired from the afternoon to start an argument he'd lose to you. So he had watched you as you got ready for bed and climbed in next to him, your eyes had that far-off look that you woke up with this morning. The same eyes he was sure were brimming with tears yesterday when he dragged you off. He'd spent most of the night awake wondering who the man was to provoke such emotion in you to have you crying. To risk getting caught in what could be a scandal for the two of you. 

Letting out a frustrated sigh, he walks out of the room, his stomach swirling with an unfamiliar feeling that makes his head hurt. He finds you sitting on the stool he'd pulled out, a paper towel pressed to your finger, small dots of red bleeding through. "Still bleeding?" He asks you, dropping the first aid kit on the kitchen counter, peering at you from the side of his eye. He looms over you, forcing you to tilt your head back to look at him and nod, "Okay, put your hand here, and I'll clean it up real quick."

Satoru works quickly, ripping an alcohol swab open and cleaning the small cut on your finger, his hand coming up to grip your hand when you jerk away when it stings. He then cuts a small piece of a bandage, making a note to buy bandaids the next time he finds himself at a convenience store and wraps it around while he rubs small circles in the center of your palm.

"There, that should keep it from bleeding or getting infected," he says, skimming his thumb over the bandage, your hand much smaller in his. He fights the urge to press them together and see just how much bigger they are, and his touch lingers on the palm of your hand, listening to your quiet breathing. He waits for you to pull your hand back, but you remain still, your eyes burning holes on the top of his head. "Are you really not close to that guy from yesterday?" He asks, pressing down on the heel of your hand. 

Your breathing stops for a moment, and he can hear you swallow before you answer, "I told you, he's close to Shoko and Utahime."

He looks down at you, long white lashes brushing against his cheeks. You avoid his gaze, focusing on his thumb that's digging into your skin. He laughs under his breath, "Then how come you were in a closed room with him?"

You tense up in his hold, not responding immediately and pulling your hand from his, "I already told you that he's closer to the girls, I've only run into him a couple of times. If you're going to accuse me of something, don't be around the bush." 

Satoru had expected this, after months of living with you he grew to know that you always had to have the last word. Whether it was about him leaving the toilet seat up when it had been you early in the day when you had been cleaning, or misplaced items you would later find where you had left them, the last word always had to be yours. And by the look in your eyes, this time was no different.

He breathes out through his nose and steps back defeated, "Fine if you say so." You get off the stool and start to clean the grapefruit and board off the counter while he picks up the kit. The floor is filled again with silence, the sound of the AC clicking on echoing throughout, nothing out of the ordinary for a Sunday morning for the two of you. 

He turns to look at you, taking in your form that's only covered by a thin satin slip and untied robe, your hardened nipples peeking through the thin material. He knows his shooting, especially just avoiding a fight, but his feet move on their own, and his chest is pressed against your back. His right hand grazes the exposed skin of your thighs while his left slips beneath the top half, large hand cupping your breast. He smiles into the back of your head, inhaling the sweet smell of your shampoo, when your breath hitches and you elbow his stomach. 

"W-what are you doing?" your voice shakes, legs clamping together when he pinches and pulls on your nipple.

His breath fans over the nape of your neck, the hand on your thigh dipping into the inner part. His voice has dropped an octave, the sound has you leaning into his frame while he speaks to you, "Apologizing."

"You can apologize using words," you squeak, your legs closing around his hand to keep him from going any further, "And I'm not even ovulating, so there's no point."

Using his nose he nudges your hair out of the way and licks behind your ear, grinning when you yelp and squirm against him, your ass rubbing against the growing bulge in his pants. "I know, but you did agree that we'd talk about having sex outside of that. Right now seems like the perfect time to start."

"I agreed to talk about it, to arrange something, which we haven't, so please let me go," your voice trembles, body sinking deeper into his touch subconsciously.

With his strength, your husband manages to pry your legs open, fingers traveling up your nightgown, kneading the fat of your upper thighs. He doesn't go further, and slowly ruts into you from behind, whispering in your ear, "So let's come to an agreement now. Five times a week." 

Your cheeks burn, your breathing grows heavier, and the corners of your lips start to drool. You shake your head once, and mumble between breaths, "Three more times a month outside of when I'm ovulating."

"I'm a married man, not a monk," he groans, pushing his hips harshly against yours, and causing you to tumble over the counter. Your fingers gripping the edge, the body growing hotter under his touches. The inside of his mouth is starting to water, and the sound of your sweet whines has his head spinning so much that he can't think of anything but you, "Three times a week. Five when it's your ovulating week."

He turns you around, picking you up and wrapping your legs around his waist. He buries his head in your neck while he makes his way for the living room couch, large hands spread on the globes of your ass. Your breathing and swallowing heavily against his ear, your mind becoming overwhelmed by his presence and his needy touches. He's sure if he keeps this up you'll agree to anything he wants.

You shake your head, opening your lips to propose something else, but Satoru sinks his teeth into your shoulder, making you cry out. His groans into the bite, your nails digging into his shoulders, before he drops you onto the couch. 

He runs a tongue over his bottom lip while looking down at your pouting face, your fingers running over the bit mark, "Did you really have to do that?"

Satoru smirks down at you, dropping down to his knees in front of you, and pulls your leg over his shoulder. He nibbles on your calf, slowly moving upwards, "I did. You were about to say something that I wasn't going to agree to." He's at the hem of your slip, both your legs thrown over his shoulders and his fingers splayed across the back of your thighs, pushing your legs towards your chest, massaging them. "Come on, y/n, three times a week isn't that bad. Especially when it's going to be me between your pretty legs."

Looking up at you through his lashes, he can see the doubt in your eyes. Your bottom lip is caught between your teeth, and your hands are gripping the end of the couch. But your chest is also rising and falling rapidly, and your upper thighs rubbing against each other. There's a dazed look in your eyes that can only be described as lust. Satoru pushes his luck a little more, his head slipping under your gown. 

He laughs when you jump upwards towards his lips when his breath brushes against your sopping core, a wet spot in your cute pink panties. He nibbles on the inside of your thighs, groaning when he feels them squeeze his head. You groan above him, your hand coming to rest on the crown of his head.

When you talk you sound out of breath, your voice quivering as you give in to his bid, "Fine, three times a week, but that's all," you swallow moving your hips closer to his lips, "Don't try doing it more than that. Got it?"

Pulling your legs up until your thighs are resting on his shoulders, fingers pulling at the waistband of your underwear, he agrees hesitantly, wanting to push for the five times a week, "I got it, don't worry. Now let's get started." 

Satoru isn't sure what you did to him. Maybe you cast a spell on him the first night you spent together as husband and wife, to have him craving your touch. Or maybe your words that day, when you said you didn't care for him, had hurt his ego so much that he wanted to test just how true the words were. Whatever you did, or said, had his chest fluttering just by thinking of you. It had him on the verge of devotion, of becoming the sole believer of whatever religion you were. 

~

Satoru glances up from the paperwork in front of him, Yuna stepping in with both her hands clasped in front of her, the falling sun casting a warm yellow glow over her face. She gives him a smile, slowly approaches the front of his desk, and places a stack of small papers. “These are the last papers you have to sign today,” she takes a step back, “I’ll be leaving now. Is there anything else you need sir?”

“No, you can go,” he answers, inhaling through his nose and reaching for the papers, “Have a nice night, Yuna, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“You too, sir,” she nods, turning on her heel and exiting the office in a hurry, not giving Satoru the chance to change his mind. 

He chuckles and turns his attention to the last of his work, quickly signing off his name on each dotted line Yuna has marked, his mind wandering to you. In just less than an hour he'd be back at the penthouse, eating a warm meal that you cooked, before climbing under the covers next to you. In less than an hour, he'd have his arms wrapped around your warm body. He finds himself grinning while he daydreams about it. His smile falters as Suguru's words replay in the back of his mind. 

Do you think you have feelings for y/n?

Satoru wasn't sure of his answer still. He doubted he could call the daily routine the two of you have fallen into over the course of the six months of love. He didn't know if the way his shoulders untensed at the sound of your voice welcoming him home could be called love. Or if the way he'd find himself randomly daydreaming about you would be considered love. 

Because to him, love was the way his father would place the cup of sugar closer to his mother's side of the table. Love was the way his mother would make sure there were at least two things at the table his father would enjoy, the way she would warm his towel or clothes before he changed. It was the way his father would ask for the flowers to be changed as soon as the single rose in his office started to wilt. Love was the way his parents would look at each other, eyes softened and tiny smiles exchanged while holding each other's hands. say from his left, the sound of popping gum echoing in his ears. He turns his head slightly towards the sound, spotting the owner of the voice. 

You and Satoru did now of those things. But it still didn't explain why he found himself seeking out your warmth whenever he could.

Signing his name on the last paper, he stands and reaches for his jacket that's draped over the back of his chair, the sound of his feet filling in the space of his office as he exits. The door closes behind him, the halls of the top floor almost bare of any life, a few of the employees pausing to wish him a good night and weekend, while others are too eager to get home that he doesn't even register to them. He leisurely walks towards the elevator, hand shoved into the pocket of his pants, humming to himself. 

Satoru lets the people who arrived before him get on, politely declining their offers to let him on first, knowing just how eager they are to arrive home. He can see it in their faces, can see the enthusiasm of the married men and women to arrive home to their families. And he finds himself thinking of you again for the millionth time today. 

A smile outstretches on his face as he rides down. Your face flashes in his mind and the sweet sound of your "welcome home" reproduces in his ears. If he focuses enough he can even catch a whiff of your shampoo and perfume, of the smells of the kitchen swirling while you move about in it. The smell of your tasty cooking substitutes the smell of coming from the scent of the aromas coming from the cafeteria when he steps out following the crowd.

He trails after everyone into the street, the sound of the cars driving past draws him out of his thoughts. The street is busy, with people grabbing taxis to head home and others walking in and out of the small shops and restaurants that decorate it. His eyes scan the shops, looking for a small flower shop he had walked by several months back.

He freezes in his tracks though when he hears his name being called out over the sound of the engines and the chatter of people. It's dulcet and saccharine, but Satoru knows all too well that there's also venom laced in the sweet melodic sounds.

He turns to find a woman with red-brown hair and light green eyes. Her white heels click on the sidewalk as she emerges from the corner of the building she had been leaning against. Her long baby blue pants touch the ground, and her midriff is peaking between the waistband and the hem of her matching top, her shoulders exposed despite the cold. She grins at him, the red tint of her lips drawing his attention to them, a color he used to favor on women.

"You've been avoiding me," He hears someone say from his left, the sound of popping gum echoing in his ears. He turns his head slightly towards the sound, spotting the owner of the voice. 

Taking a deep breath he says her name, leaving a bitter taste inside his mouth as he takes one step towards her, "Mina." 

The woman smirks, pushing herself off the wall she leaning against one, her tall heels clicking on the cement, "The one and only."  

How long had it been since he had last seen her? Freshman year of college? Perhaps, he wasn't sure, all he remembered at this moment was the smile that played on her lips the last time they saw each other. A part of him still recalls the ache he'd felt in his chest as he watched her walk away. He still remembers the warm mornings in their dorms and the way his shirts would swallow her. The sharpness of her tongue when they'd fight and she'd call him nothing but a spoiled brat who'd had everything handed to him before telling him to jump off a cliff.

Three years older than him and he'd thought he'd be able to build a future with her every time they found themselves making up. But she had apparently thought otherwise when she graduated and left to work abroad. Telling him she'd just seen him as a pastime, her little boy toy.

Satoru's nails dig into the palm of his hand as Mina nears him, the strong citrus aroma of her perfume engulfing him in it. He stares down at her, blue eyes clouded by anger. All he wanted was for her to get out of his sight. "What do you want?" He asks.

Mina pouts up at him and leans closer to him, fluttering her lashes, "Oh don't sound so mean 'Toru. We haven't seen each other in a while, don't tell me you're still angry." 

Standing up straighter, Satoru unclasps his hands, small red moon crescent shapes imprinted in the palm. "Why would I? Like you said it's been years, and I'm married now."

"I heard," she grins, straightening back up, "Is that the same girl you wouldn't stop talking about back then? You know the one you said was a bore."

He answers through clenched teeth, "And if it is."

Mina bites her bottom lip for a moment before grinning, "Mmmh, that's surprising."

Satoru gulps, inhaling through his nose, speaking sharply to her, "Why are you here? What do you want from me? Why are you did show up all of the sudden?"

Mina looks around the street, both her hands behind her back, "Let's go get some coffee. For old time's sake, and we can talk then."

"I'd rather not," he declines, "I have to go home. My wife is waiting for me."

A low whistle leaves Mina's lips, the grin on her face spreading, "Wow, didn't think I'd ever hear you say those words, but fine, I guess we can talk here." She takes another step closer to him, their breaths almost mix together, talking just loud enough for him to hear him over the sounds of the busy street, the corners of her lips spreading further across her face, "I just wanted to see you."

~

You hear the bedroom door open and shut, soft muffled steps traveling through the closed bathroom door. Shrugging you turn the faucet on, listening to the sound of the water filling the tub, your hand dipping in and out of the warm, causing waves to ripple through. Steam starts to fill the room up quickly, the mirrors fogging up, and some pouring out through the small crack of the door. 

Your husband is rummaging on the other side. His shadow passes by the bathroom door as he digs through the nightstand on your side of the bed. You don't pay him any mind, and keep waiting for the tub to fill, ready to wash away the stress of the day. The trip to the orphanage and preparing the dinner right afterward had tired you out. You had also decided to pay a visit to your parents, listening to your mother's drunken ramblings about the gossip that everyone was talking about. Then you went and had lunch with the girls, Shoko's tight schedule forcing you to meet her at the hospital for a quick bite which in turn made you run into your ex-lover. The sight of him causes the inside of your stomach to churn and your heart to flutter. You were thankful he didn't speak to you, and just gave you a nod of acknowledgment before continuing on with his work.

After all that, you were more than ready to find some quiet time for yourself. If only your husband would stop making noise outside the door. Letting out an annoyed sigh, you shut the water off, and stand, undoing the knot that kept your robe closed. The cotton robe drops to your feet, the cool air of the bathroom nipping at your skin. The sounds outside the bathroom door stop.

Satoru hovers by the door peering in through the crack in the door. Your back is facing him, sitting, the towel around your body dropping down to the floor, pooling around your feet. Satoru swallows the spit in his mouth, watching your back muscles flex as you reach up to clip your hair to the back of your hand. His blue eyes trail down your body, his pants feeling tighter. 

You climb into the tub, slowly sitting down and resting your head along the edge. The warm water helps your body relax and the stresses of the day vanish. The scent of lavender spreads across the room, your eyes drooping closed, and the soft sound of shuffling coming in from your shared room.

The door creaks open, cold biting at your exposed shoulders for a moment, before clicking shut. You don't have to open your eyes to know that Satoru has walked, the sound of his footsteps on the tiled floor is familiar enough after him doing this multiple times already. You feel him kneel next to the tub, his hand dipping into the warm water, which softly slushes. You wait for him to say something, but he remains silent by your side.

Peeking at him through your lashes you see him staring at the bubbles that obscure his view of your body. The collar of his shirt is sticking up, the top three buttons are undone, and his hair is disheveled. There's a long distant look in his eyes, a lost look, and his teeth are digging into the corner of his bottom lip. 

You close your eyes again, sinking deeper into the water, and ask, "What's wrong?" 

There's no concern in your voice, but Satoru looks up at you for the first time since he walked in. You relaxed, he tell that much, and he doesn't want to ruin it. "Nothing. Just a long day." He dips his hand further into the warm, feeling the heat of your body when his knuckles brush against the side of your thigh. Some of the tension in his body eases up, and he wants to be closer to you suddenly. "Mind if I climb in?"

You peer at him through your lashes again, wanting to see if he has any ulterior intentions, but you just find him staring at you with a sad puppy look. His bottom lip jutted out while he waits for you to give him permission. You sigh, feeling the water already starting to cool, "Fine." 

Your husband quickly rises to his feet, undoing the rest of the buttons on his shirt before hastily undoing the buckle of his belt. He sits on the edge of the tub and pulls his socks off, almost falling into the water still fully dressed. Meanwhile, you relax back into the water, watching as he pulls his pants off, followed by his shirt being tossed on the floor. 

Satoru climbs in behind you once his fully undressed, long legs encase you, and his semi-hard length presses onto your back. He wraps both arms around you, pressing a soft kiss onto your shoulder, which doesn't surprise you anymore after months of his shows of affection growing. Resting his chin on your shoulder, he starts to hum and you relax into him, letting the low vibrations soothe you.

"Did you have a long day at work? You said you'd be here earlier, but got here later than you said." You mutter, rubbing circles onto his hand.

He leans his head onto yours, his humming ceasing for a moment, "Kind of. Some unexpected work came up and I had to get a quick bite with someone."

"Were they important?"

He pauses again, "I think at one point they would've been, but they're not as influential now."

You nod your head, letting it rest on his shoulder, "Well, let me know next time, I was waiting for you to have dinner."

"Sorry, I will."

"Thank you." The bathroom falls quiet for a few moments, Satoru's warmth enveloping you as the water turns lukewarm. Suddenly you recall an important, one that you had made sure to remember for almost twenty years. "Your birthday is coming up."

"Yeah. In two more weeks. Why?"

You shrug, "It's the first birthday we'll be spending together since high school, and I was thinking we should do something." You open your eyes and look at him, "So what do you want to do?"

He blinks at you for a few moments, as if your asking him was out of the norm. Maybe he thought that you confessing that you no longer had romantic feelings for him meant you won't remember important dates such as his birthday. He finally answers with a shrug, "I don't know. I usually just have dinner with my parents or go on a trip with Suguru, but we haven't talked about anything."

You purse your lips, "Okay then...How about a mini-vacation? Somewhere with lots of good food, and sweets? We can invite your parents, Suguru, and a couple of other friends."

Satoru grins down at you, "Are you being considerate?"

You playfully slap his arm, "Look just because I don't love you, doesn't mean I want you to have a horrible birthday." Raising an eyebrow you lean closer to him, "So, mini-vacation, or would you rather do something else?"

He smiles again, pressing his forehead to yours, "A mini-vacation sounds great."

"Then it's decided," You say getting up, cold water dripping down your bare body, "Now let's go to bed. I'm tired and I want to sleep in tomorrow before going to your parent's."

Satoru groans as he follows you out of the tub, wrapping a towel around his waist, "I forgot to bring clothes. I'll see you in a little." With that, he disappears into the dimly lit bedroom.

You shake your head as you watch him leave, towel hanging low on his hips while drying yourself off and changing into a nightgown. You clean up afterward, the sound of Satoru climbing into bed and reaching your ears while you do so. The last thing you do is pick up the discarded robes, throw them into the bin of your clothes, and spot Satoru's clothes on the floor near the tub. 

You pick his shirt up, ready to toss it in the clothes bin, but you catch the scent of another women's perfume. One that doesn't belong to you or his secretary.

© Copyright 2022. Dearestgojo. All rights reserved.

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[impala-dreamer]

His Return

A Supernatural Story

~Walking alone at night can be deadly.~

Vampire!Dean Winchester x Reader

1,780 Words

Warnings: NSFW, Major Character Death, Vampirism. 

A/N: First published to Patreon July 2022. See what you're missing?

Impala-Dreamer’s Masterlist  ~  Patreon  ~ Published Works  

The night is cold. Steely wind nips at your cheeks and you draw your coat a little tighter across your chest. Moonlight leads you home, beaming down through the haze of midnight and you free it from oil-slicked puddles as you walk down the alley.

You’ve walked this way a thousand times before, but tonight it feels different- there’s something lurking in the corner of your vision, some hidden danger that sturs your senses and makes every hair stand on end.

A flutter of wings catches your ear and you turn with a gasp; just a pigeon fleeing the dumpster. You laugh at yourself and continue on; there’s work to be done tomorrow and not much more time for sleep.

Another noise strikes your attention and you spin again, nerves on edge, mind reeling with illogical fears. It’s the heavy footfall of a boot, familiar yet unscheduled, but when you turn, there’s nothing behind you except the night.

“Stop being such a pussy, Y/N,” you laugh at yourself, turning back to face the shadows and your shortcut home.

One step and you’re slamming into solid muscle.

“Holy shit!” you scream and try to run, but a hand clamps down around your elbow and holds you steady. The grip is strong and cold, and you look up with fear in your heart.

Green eyes sparkle in the moonlight.

“Dean?”

A soft smile curls his plump lips. “Heya, Y/N/N.”

It’s been forever since you last saw the hunter; a few years in fact. He’d been the only one to believe you when you ranted to the police about how a monster had taken your little sister. Sure enough, by week’s end, you were standing hip to hip with the strange fake Fed, covered in blackish goo and sharing a victory kiss beneath the stars.

He left before dawn that night, speeding away in his giant black boat of a car. To see him returned was both welcomed and jarring. Something had to be amiss.

“Holy crap- you scared the shit out of me!”

His hold on your elbow vanishes and he stuffs his hands in his jacket pockets. He dips his chin and looks at you through perfectly thick lashes. “Sorry about that.” He smiles and your heart melts a bit, remembering what those lips could do. “I saw you walkin’ alone and thought- well… You really shouldn’t be walking alone this late at night, Y/N.”

A laugh tickles your throat. “I’ve done a lot worse. As you remember.”

He laughs with you at that, a little chuckle that lifts his broad shoulders. “That I do. But still- it’s… dangerous out here.”

Reaching into your bag, you pull up your secret weapon. “I’ve got pepper spray and a mean right hook.”

Dean looks away and back; a slick smile tugging on his lips as he wipes a hand down his cheek. “Oh, that I remember well.”

“Yeah. Sorry about that…”

His eyes flash over your face and your breath catches in your throat. “Don’t be. I was impressed.”

Pride swell in your gut but something’s still wrong. “Why are you here?” you blurt out, staring up at him as if he’s some ghost from the past, and well, he is. “I mean- it’s nice to see you but-”

“Seeing me is like a bad omen, huh?”

He looks away and you feel bad. “Not like that, but- kinda? I mean- you only show up when monsters are lurking.”

Dean lets out a deep laugh as if he can’t help it and his green eyes turn back to dig into yours. “Monsters…” He sighs heavily and shakes his head. “I don’t know about that.” He licks his lips slowly and your mind is shoved back in time, right back into the backseat of that damned Impala. “Anyway- why don’t we get you off the streets, huh?”

“Do I remind you of a working girl, Mr. Winchester?”

He smiles and you swear he’s trying to kill you with it. “You know what I mean.” He crooks his elbow and holds it out for you. “If I remember correctly, your apartment isn’t far-”

“Correct.” Your hand slides a bit too easily onto his arm, fitting perfectly in the hollow of his elbow.

You turn together and head into the shadows, not caring about the puddles underfoot or the cold wind attacking your cheeks. Dean seems to shield you from more than just the wind- you feel safe in his arms, careless and free.

“So, just passing through town?”

He nods, looking straight ahead. “Something like that.”

“Sam with you?”

He isn’t revealing much, hiding all behind a soft smile that crinkles around his eyes and turns your mind to mush. “No. Sam’s- not with me.”

“Oh well. I hope he’s doing OK…”

“I don’t wanna talk about Sam.” Dean stops at the foot of your stairs, memory guiding him straight to your building. He grabs your hand and you spin with him, falling against his chest as he tugs you close. “Do you?”

Staring up at him, you lose all sense of time and space and it’s just like it was a few years ago. He’s strong and tall, mysterious and beautiful; a hero there to guide you back to the light.

“Ya know,” you whisper, pushing up on your toes to try to reach his lips. “I really couldn’t care less.”

Dean dips his chin and brings his lips close, hovering there, giving you the option to pull away. With a smile, you do the opposite, pushing in and kissing him hard.

He exhales against your cheek, tips his head to the side, parts his lips. His tongue juts out, swiping over your bottom lip and you hum at the memory of it. His left hand finds the nape of your neck and he holds you there with freezing fingers that seer into your flesh.

Pulling back, you’re stunned to find his eyes open and focused; every ounce of his attention on you.

“Do you- wanna come up?” you ask, surprising only yourself. Dean seems to know you’d offer, waiting patiently for you to catch up.

“I’d love to.”

He follows closely up the three flights of stairs and you rack your brain to try to remember what panties you have on; if it’s the lacy bra or the junky one.

Your breath is fast with climbing and nerves when you finally reach your door, but Dean is steady, appearing behind you almost too quickly.

“The- the place is kinda messy. Sorry. Wasn’t expecting- um… you.”

Dean swallows visibly, his upper lip twitching as you push open the door. “Don’t worry about it.”

His tone has changed slightly; the feel of him ass well. Gone are the familiar shy smiles, the feeling of being wooed. He seems stiff, focused.

He stands back as you step inside.

“Well,” you laugh, watching him hover in the doorway. “Come in.”

His boot is hesitant to step over the threshold, but he does and he breaths in the room, scanning the apartment quickly.

“Nice place.”

The door shuts and locks behind you.

“Thanks. As I said, usually not so messy-”

Dean holds up a hand and waves you off. “It’s great.” He spins on his heel and soon you’re back in his arms, cradled delicately against his chest. “Just like- you…”

A smile bubbles up from deep inside and your cheeks burn. “Dean- did you come back here just for me?”

His fingers tangle in your hair and he tugs, lifting your shy eyes to his. “And if I said yes?”

Your answer is a kiss that closes your eyes and makes him moan. You lean closer, pressing yourself against him. Hips and chest and thighs all crashing together as you give yourself over to him with a push of your lips.

He responds instantly. The hand in your hair tightens, the other digs into your lower back, locking you to him.

It’s a mad rush to the bedroom; so hard to walk and shed clothing between maddening kisses.

He lays you down, drags his calloused fingers down your naked body, teasing and pinching and driving you wild. His name falls from your lips in desperate moans as he licks at your skin; plump lips planting bruises from throat to hip. He’s feverish- grasping at every inch of you like you’re water in the desert.

“Need you,” he whispers, throat dry and torn.

You push a hand through his hair and bite your lip. “All yours…”

He presses inside, spreading your thighs wide with his hips. The stretch is deep and exquisite and you toss your head back against the mattress, savouring every inch of him as your body tightens.

“Fuck, I’ve missed you.”

He stares, eyes hard and wild. Still thrusting slowly, Dean drops down, covering your body with his. The crush is heavy, knocks the breath from your lungs. A big hand wraps beneath you, a cool hand covers the nape of your neck. Fingers, long and deft, lock around your jaw from beneath and turn your head to the side.

You gasp, struggling to breathe beneath his weight as pleasure and fear collide in your chest.

“Dean-”

“Be still,” he growls, lips tickling your ear. He pulls back for a moment and the corner of your eye tricks your vision. He bares his teeth; tiny fangs dropping like magic before he attacks, sinking them deep into your throat.

Your heart pounds, pumping blood to meet the heavy pull of his beautiful lips.

“Dean!” You claw at his shoulders, strangled and desperate to be released.

The pull is strong and the room starts to spin.

He thrusts harder, moaning loudly as he drains the life from your veins and nears his climax.

The numbness starts in your fingertips, works its way up your arms; the muscles protest and relax, leaving you limp and empty beneath him.

“So fucking perfect,” he groans, swallowing the last drop just as he cums. His timing is perfection and he cries out in ecstasy; his entire body vibrating with your blood and his pleasure. “Just like I thought you’d be.”

He doesn’t bother to clean up, just drags his jeans up his thick thighs and tugs on his layers of flannel and canvas.

“Another fun stop on the Dean Winchester Memory Tour.” He laughs at his mess: your arm is bent wrong; your legs are forever open and your cunt leaks with his cum.

He kisses your forhead before he leaves and your eyes stare into the shadows.

“I told you it was dangerous to be walking alone…”

He doesn’t bother to shut the door behind him.

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#vampire #vamp!dean #dean x reader #spn fanfic #dean winchester x reader #one shot

[pistachiozombie]

I feel like if i were properly medicated for adhd instead of getting brushed off by doctors, I could draw and post all the content sturring restlessly in my brain way more often

#personal #adhd #artist #vent

[edslacefront]

We know for a fact that Stede's a Leo historically (and I think it adds up w his character) but hottake: I think Ed's a Leo too, I was torn between that and Gemini, he's a dramatic know-it-all, but I think he def has Gemini goin on in his chart. I think Stede and Ed actually must have fairly similar charts, like they're actually so similar as people besides the way they grew up and that's why they get along so well ya know? Anyway as an astrology ho this is my shot at Ed and Stede's top 6 in their charts, shouting it into the void:

Stede-

A lot of fire and air in this one that's just the vibe I get, he's passionate and longs for adventure, he's actually quite clever but can be a little insensitive sometimes, yet somehow also attentive to those he cares about.

Sun- Leo (as stated earlier) I feel like this one needs little explanation (I end up talking more about his sun sign when I compare him to Ed later when talking about Ed's sun, see below lol) Dramatic, theatrical, draws attention, flamboyant, just listing synonyms at this point

Moon- Libra, At first I thought he'd have a water moon bc he can be quite emotional, but I think thats just the outwardness of his Leo placements. he has this ability to set his feelings aside like an air sign, like when he saved the crew even after Ed died, and then went to mourn in private, although he seems dramatic emotionally he has an ability to detach himself, he forgives quite easily which is a trait ive seen a lot in Libra moons, he has a lot of faith in people. His relationships w others are very important to him, an air moon just makes sense w his whim-prone-ness

Rising- Leo (again ik), he's dramatic asf likes to make a theatrical entrance, draws a lot of attention to himself and cares a lot about his appearance, puts on a confident facade over his cripplingly insecure self in true Leo fashion, is a natural entertainer when he starts to get attention in man on fire

Mercury- Libra (again ik I swear I know about more than two signs) , had to be an air sign he can chat and chat and chat, Ed and him can talk for hours they gotta both have air mercurys, he can also be quite charming in his banter like when he charms Anne Bonnie and Hellcat Maggie like he's a little bit of a flirt even when he doesn't intent to be, he can also be so shady and cunty when he wants to tho, like this dude likes to stur the pot as a strategy kind of lives for the drama, he can be quite clever when he's in a pinch and can always talk himself out of a situation, his bullshitting ability is off the charts

Venus- Taurus, at first I thought he'd have like no earth, but I think he's a little bit more practical in love with the way he thought going to China was too fast, He's still a very attentive lover tho, with Taurus ruled by Venus, he offers Ed a lot of comfort, he's very calming to Ed with his presence and very patient with Ed, he's stubborn in love he never gives up on finding Ed/never loses faith in their love, a real romantic w his cheesy poetry in his letters, immediately shows Ed all of his fancy stuff and that's what initially kind of draws Ed to him, got that luxurious appeal that finer things in life swag

Mars- Libra (AGAIN IK, but a Libra stellium just makes sense to me, not trying to make him seem one dimensional I just get this vibe so strong I swear I'm not just going off stereotypes) This man's always solving conflict or being avoident of his problems, like it's always his tactic, like when he turns Neds crew against him by pointing out that they're being treated unfairly. He prefers for things to be harmonious

Ed:

I think this dude is a chaotic concoction of distributed fire water and air, no practical earth in this mf

Sun- Leo. I just think they both have to be Leo's, Ed is just as dramatic and it's like the world seems to revolve around him at times (like the sun, Leo's ruled by the sun, haha) he just gives such strong Leo-ness w this mane he's got (him and Stede both have excellent hair as a defined feature now that I'm thinking about it) and his facade of confidence is just pure Leo. Him and Stede can both get jealous in a Leo way, like when the other gets all the attention. They both can be a little egotistical and can be kind yet also not take others feelings into account before thinking of their own, like being considerate is not always their first instinct.

Moon- Scorpio. MAN does this boy get HURT. He lashes out asf he is so sensitive. Izzy says "Stede" once and gets fucking shot don't u dare point out what this dude is upset about. He feels things so intensely, doing dramatic shit getting emo w it, gets absolutely consumed by his feelings, had to have a water moon he's a whole tsunami. He's not so secretive w how he feels like maybe the average Scorpio moon but I think the Leo brings it out. This is where Stede and Ed have to figure out how to communicate their feelings w this air and water combo but I think Stede's Libra moon takes the time to understand Ed and how he's caused hurt.

Rising- Gemini. Infamous. Regarded as highly skilled "He's histories greatest tactition", u never know his next move, never shuts up, either introducing himself like "hey everybody I'm blackbeard : )" or "I'm the fucking Devil", the talk of the town, been there done that knows everybody

Mercury- Also Gemini. Like I said he never shuts up, him and Stede talk each other's ears off w these air mercurys, always bouncing between topics, good story teller, him and Stede both, he's always fuckin yelling in my experience Geminis r loud talkers. Goes on rants talks like a nut job. And he's sooo so intelligent his brain is going a million miles a minute, good at memorizing information it makes him a good pirate. Geminis get so eclectic w what they know and they're so so clever and witty and snarky "that's blackbeard, I'm Stede remember."

Venus- Pisces. This dude longs for sweet and delicate affection, he's got these princess doe-eyes, fluttering his lashes and shit, he falls fast for Stede, romanticizes shit, he gets lost and infatuated and day dreamy w shit. He imagined Stede as a beautiful mermaid coming to save him for fucks sake. He's a *sighs* and looks out the window yearningly mf. He PINES like no other. Immediately wanted to watch Stede while he sleeps and switch clothes and go to China, an idealist. I think this matches w Stede so well bc Stede's also a romantic, writing letters and shit, Stede butters him up, but Stede had the ability to remind Ed to be a bit more grounded. They're both so tender ugh they both like to comfort each other ugh

Mars- Aries. He can be quite childish and gets set off by one thing, he has a quick temper, outbursts of yelling, like his rage builds up intense and fast and then burns out, like he literally throws tantrums like when Izzy was pestering him about the plan and then he's like "EVERYTHINGS SO FUCKING BORING". when he's angry he's all consumed and murderous. In my experience an Aries Mars is most likely to smash a chair against the wall and throw a Vase, but then forgive after one conversation bc of how fast burning they r like a bomb and then quiet, returning to that childlike play fullness an Aries has, does shit like play knife parade bc that's their sense of fun, spiteful and gets embarrassed, like when he leaves the fancy dinner table like "YOUR ALL PHONIES" and then is like I've gotta shoot all of them.

Anyways if u read all of this (I doubt anyone will) thanks for listening to my shout into the void, if u disagree pls be gentle lol.

#blackbonnet #ed teach #ed x stede #edward teach #gentlebeard #ofmd spoilers #blackbeard #ofmd #stede bonnet #astrology #ofmd s2 #ofmd fandom

[wrestle-catboy-vault]

"just a bad dream", ft tjp, francesco akira and wardogs

Alley cat was a title that fit TJ for most of his life. He knew the ins and outs of every street in the city, every little nook and cranny that he could squeeze into still has the tiniest hint of the cat hybrid's scent. Spaces like those are key when escaping from unwinnable fights after all. Not many things were on that list for TJ, but one of the main ones were the bigger dog hybrids. He could, and has, chased off and even nearly killed some smaller dog hybrids who were dumb enough to pick a fight with the prince of the alleyways. But anything twice his size or bigger he tended to show some respect for. A loud bark shakes TJ out of his thoughts as he gnaws on some pigeon bones. It's source comes hurdling down the street and stops right in the entrance of the alley, a Pomsky. Definitely a hybrid, TJ picks up on the distinct scent immediately. The Pomsky must've picked up on him first, as he made a beeline for the alley he was in. TJ shoves the bones away with a paw and readies himself to fight. The dog looks tough, snapping his jaws and barking awfully loud, but TJ knows that the louder ones bark is, the less they bite. The Pomsky charges at top speed, TJ jumping for the wall to dodge, then falling on top of the dog with his claws out. His sharp nails dig into his back and teeth sink into the back of his neck, the dog bucking like a wild bronco trying to get him off. The Pomsky turns reckless, charging into the sides of the alley on purpose, trying to crush the cat and unstick it off his back, but TJ doesn't budge. His teeth sink in deeper, drawing blood as the dog whimpers. There's suddenly more loud barking coming towards the alley, TJ's ears pivoting towards the sound. Three more dogs appear at the mouth of the alleyway: a Picardy Spaniel, a Doberman and the biggest of them all, a Cane Corso. All hybrids as well. Now it's time to run. But just as TJ sheaths his claws, the Pomsky whips around in a flash and pins him to the ground, jaws locked on the cat's neck, wild blue eyes meeting him all too close. The other three dogs make their way into the alley and surround TJ, looking down at him and snarling, licking their chops and wagging their tails. These seemed like the type of dogs who liked to play with their food. And alley cat was on the menu. --- TJ springs up, his human claws unsheathing and digging into the bedsheets. Frankie sturs from the sudden motion, waking up with a yawn and a stretch. "...TJ?" The ginger hybrid softly asks in the darkness, reaching a hand out to touch him. His hand makes contact and TJ seems to instantly calm a bit. "...I'm here. I'm alright, just some weird dream." TJ replies just as soft, leaning down to kiss Frankie's forehead. The ginger hybrid starts purring right away, both hands reaching for him and pulling him onto himself. TJ can't help but crack a smile and a short chuckle, wrapping his arms around the slightly smaller hybrid. "Thanks, Akira. Love you, bud." "Love you too-!" Frankie reaches up to kiss his cheek and the two fall back to sleep together with only the sweetest dreams.

#admin achi #tjp #tj perkins #francesco akira #united empire #writing #catboy au #catboys #catboy #the catboy agenda

[thegarbagechute]

Was gonna make a piece for Stur Wurs day then remembered that I can’t draw.

Anyway, hope you all had a nice nerdy Stur Wurs day yesterday (and today)!

THAT KENOBI TRAILER THOUGH

[sturthepotofmadness]

TFRarePairingFest2023 Day 8: Summer's Last Heat

Pairing: Dinobot/Optimus Primal

Continuity: Beast Wars

@tfrarepairing

#stur draws #2023tfrarepairingfest #tf rare pairing fest #rare pairing fest #transformers beast wars #dinobot #bw dinobot #optimus primal #bw optimus primal #doop #optimus primal x dinobot #is the only dinobot/optimus primal tag on tumblr doop? #if so neat we dont need to tag a bunch of variants of the ship #cheetor rattrap airazor and rhinox are vibing in the background

[stationeryideas-2022]

Hello there beautiful pen and inky scribblers, here's day 2 of the #penandinkchallenge for January's week 1 prompts 'Back to School' this week challenge is set by @medbulletjournal and @penandinkchallenge The prompt for today is '?' On my desk 📘 Notebook @therangeuk 🖋️ FP @conklinpens_official Duragraph and Cracked Ice and @monteverdepens_official Impressa by @yafabrands_official. #2022challenges, #penandinkchallenge, #penandink, #fountainpens, #sketchbook, #mgmbme, #journalscribblers, #writing, #journalideas, #journalinspiration, #mgmbesalie, #draw, #write, #create, #challenges, #drawingprompt, #creativeideas #stationeryideas2022, #sturminsternewton, #dorsetUK, #stur, #teamconklin , #yafabrands_offical, #conklinduragraph , #conklinfountainpens (at Sturminster Newton) https://www.instagram.com/p/Cm9mnPkIRuH/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

#penandinkchallenge #2022challenges #penandink #fountainpens #sketchbook #mgmbme #journalscribblers #writing #journalideas #journalinspiration #mgmbesalie #draw #write #create #challenges #drawingprompt #creativeideas #stationeryideas2022 #sturminsternewton #dorsetuk #stur #teamconklin #yafabrands_offical #conklinduragraph #conklinfountainpens

[chemicalcandy]

i wanna go back to when anons would send me hate for drawing a character, those were the good days

#quick who can i draw to stur this up again #homestuck two is shit i dont think anyone cares if i draw jade again

[that--unusual-person]

I am sick as a dog and feel like dieing right now. Can I request a simply drawing of the pillars careing for me? I imagine a few of them panicking at least a little when I can't keep anything down. I feel like I'm boiling on the inside and hot to the touch but I'm freezing. It sucks.

stand by for pillar men.

off the bat, once you wake up Kars will be at your side with breakfast in bed to combat the nasty medicine you need to take. compliments to Esidisi for not burning the house down trying to pour orange juice.

Speaking of Esi, he’s next to make sure your out of bed and into his arms as he carries you around in whatever blanket you like. his warm body keeps the chills out and helps you sweat out the illness as he’s constantly demanding you drink water and to blow your nose. even holds the tissue for you, what a gentleman. he would freak out when you feel your about to purge but he’s got you covered. Kars recommended instead of panicking and running around the house to the nearest bathroom or sink, he carries a bucket and water on him at all times and is there too soothe you while you do what needs to be done.

next comes Wamuu. he assists with keeping you clean and tighty after a whole day being by Esi’s side. preparing a comfortably warm bath with oils to help you relax and sents to loosen your sinuses. while he’a washing your body, he hums small notes to help you relax, he would even whisper great stories of his childhood. his large hands make for great massages over your sore body and lull you to sleep.

and when all is said and done, Santana will be with you night after night until your feeling better. letting you rest on his body, his soft flesh works to absorb what heat you have burning in you, keeping you a safe temperature and holding you close. he’s extra careful not to put too much discomfort on you, so a gentle hand rests idly on you incase you begin to stur in you sleep.

#hope you get well soon #sorry if this was alittle late #jjba #pillar men #kars #esidisi #wamuu #santana #sketch extravaganza

[elena-reina]

Status - Draco Malfoy x Reader

Request: Hey , could you maybe write an imagine in which post-war Draco brings the reader home to meet his parents but she is extremely nervous as she is a muggle and not a pure-blood and Draco comforts her .Lucius particularly stands against it but at the end of their dinner he sees how much more alive and happy Draco feels next to her ? Fluff would be great as a type if you want, thank you - Anon

Warnings: none

You turned right, into a wide driveway that led off the lane. The high hedge curved with you, running off into the distance beyond the pair of impressive wrought-iron gates barring the way. A shrill yelled aloud making you internally flinch only to find the source of the noise proved to be nothing more than a pure-white peacock, sturring majestically along the top of the hedge. You fiddled with your hands nervously.

Draco placed his hand on top of yours. “It’s going to be alright, love. They’re going to love you.”

Draco was nervous as well, not of himself but for you. He knew his parents were going to love you, well he knew for sure his mother would. His father, not so much.

Lights glinted in the diamond-paned downstairs windows outside. Somewhere in the dark garden beyond the hedge, a fountain was playing.

“Welcome to my home,” Draco says opening the front door for you. He extends his arm for you to grab onto as you both walk inside together. Your eyes scanned around the Malfoy Manor in astonishment. 

You knew Draco was wealthy but you didn’t really think he was that wealthy.  The hallway was large, dimly lit, and sumptuously decorated, with a magnificient carpet covering most of the stone floor. The walls of the entrance hall display pale-faced portraits lining the walls, one of them you came to recognize as your beloved Draco. You stood in front of it, gazing at the hard stare his portait had. Each stroke was down to every single detail on his face including the small freckle he has on the corner of his eye.

“This was painted a while ago,” he spoke up, feintly smiling. Turning your head, you looked at the end of the hall noticing a bronze-handled door.

“Where does that door lead to?” you asked motioning towards the end of the hall. You felt him tense up behind you. It was the drawing room. It was where the Death Eaters and Voldemort sat during their meetings. 

“It’s just a cabinet,” he lied, “C’mon, let me bring you to my room.”

You ducked your head and followed shortly behind him going up a tower of stairs. Looking around, the dark lightning complimented the cold marble running around the manor. He pulled you down the hallway and into a room. Silently closing the door, Draco faced to turn you gazing around.

The room contained a large bed, neatly made, looking at though no one has slept in it in days. Along the wall was a tall, long window that opened to a small pation. Half of it was covered from long black curtains, looking as though they were made from soft velvet giving the room a dark ambiance. There were no pictures on the wall except for one small photo frame next to the bed. Walking closer to the bed, you lightly trailed the frame of the picture. It was a picture of the two of you, but it was moving like a video.

Draco softly placed his hands on your hips, pressing his chest to your back.

“It’s moving,” you smiled, turning around to face him. He kept his hands on you and pressed a light kiss to your lips.

“It’s magic,” he hummed, lightly swaying from side to side.

Being a muggle, all this magic was new to you. You had a hard time accepting it was real until one day Draco used his wand in front of you to literally do anything you said. Light a candle, fold a blanket, even lift you in the air.

“I’m still getting used to all of this,” you said shyly, “Does your family.. know that I’m... I’m not a witch?”

He scratched the back of his neck and shook his head. “No-”

“No?!”

“No.”

“Draco!”

He ushered you to sit down on his bed and sat next to you. A million thoughts were running through your mind. Although you don’t know much about the magic world, you knew there were pure-bloods, half-bloods, muggles, and you forget what else. With that knowledge, you know that most pure-bloods hate muggles, especially coming from Draco’s family. He told you some things about his family history a while back, not all of it though, and from what you remember his father was pretty harsh on him.

“Love,” he placed a finger under your chin and turned you to face him taking you out of your thought. “Don’t worry, we are in this together. If I love you, they are going to love you one way or another.”

A knock on the door startled you making you jump. Draco stood up and you followed quickly behind him. Opening the door you impulsively shrieked and covered your mouth immediately, gazing at the small creature on the other side of the door. You’ve never seen an elf before and it startled you to say nonetheless.

It looked at you curiously but returned its gaze back to Draco. 

“Good Evening Mr. Malfoy, your parents are in the dining room.”

“That’s our house elf, I should’ve told you about them,” Draco chuckled, turning back to you. “Are you ready?”

You sighed through your nose, nodding. Holding out his arm, you grabbed it following the house elf to the dining room. The closer you got to the room, the more numb you felt. Your heart was racing and you tried your best to calm yourself. Walking into the dining room Draco’s parents sat at opposite ends of the table. His mother stood up with a warm smile on her face while his father grumbly stood up with a firm look on his face. You could feel his eyes burning holes through you. 

“Draco, my darling,” His mother gracefully spoke, “A pleasure to see you and who might this be?” 

Her smile was genuine as she looked at you with curious eyes. His father on the other hand, has not spoken.

“Mother. Father,” he greeted, “This is my girlfriend Y/N Y/L/N.”

You gave a shy wave. “Hello, it’s nice to meet you.”

“Y/N,” she drawled, “A lovely name of course, it’s a delight to have you join us. Come sit, sit!”

His mother was very nice, you could see a lot of similarities between Draco and her. They shared the same smile and when Draco decided to show it, his soft side as well. 

Draco pulled out a chair for you beside him. You sat down, giving a quiet thank you, as he helped himself to his seat. You were sat closer to his mother than you were his father; maybe for the best.

“So, how did the two of you meet?” Narcissa spoke.

The the doors opened and house elfs came in with the food, making you turn your head to the sudden noise. Returning back to the conversation, your leg began to bounce from nervousness. Draco placed his hand on your thigh, giving a reassuring squeeze. 

“Well, it’s a funny story really. I was a waitress and Draco was one of my customers and I don’t know how it happened, must’ve been a bad day for me, but I spilled hot tea all over him in an attempt to fill his empty cup,” you began to laugh as Narcissa joined in the laughter, “And then I felt horrible and wanted to make it up, but your son decided to make a move and instead asked me to let him take me out in response to my actions. I normally would say no to these kind of gestures, but something in my heart was telling me to go for it, and so I did. I don’t regret any bit of the tea spilt that day. And so now we have this inside joke of every time I ask him if he would like a drink, he would say-”

“Only if you don’t spill it on me,” Draco joined smiling.

Narcissa laughed clapping her hands softly. “Clever boy he is, got it from his mother,” she joked.

You smiled eating some of the food, Lucius spoke up somberly. 

“Y/N Y/L/N,” he spoke slowly, almost analyzing every single move you did, “I haven’t heard of your last name before. Who are your parents?”

You gulped, refreshing your throat with some water. You couldn’t help but feel extrememly nervous talking to his father. He was intimidating.

You told him their names and he looked at you skeptically. Draco knew where this was going. 

“What house were you in?”

You looked at Draco and then back at Lucius. “I’m sorry, a house?”

“Yes, at Hogwarts.”

“Hogwarts? I’m sorry I don’t- I don’t understand where or what that is,” you said shyly, you voice growing more quiet with each word.

Draco inhaled sharply grabbing onto your free hand. His heart was beating fast inside of his chest. “Father, she’s a muggle,” Draco said finally once and for all.

Lucius dropped his silverware on his plate creating a loud disturbance. He was in shock to say the least.

The rest of the atmosphere turned pure silence. The sound of crackling wood was absolutely like music to your ears, filling you up with some kind warmness and peace to try and ease your nerves.

“A muggle!? Have you no shame bringing that here to the Malfoy Manor!” he shouted.

“Lucius!” Narcissa scolded by his words, “Y/N, honey, I apologize on behalf of my husbands actions.”

You sank lower in your seat, playing with a piece of food on your plate. Draco felt anger flare up inside him, hot and heavy inside of his chest. 

Lucius continued, “You marrying someone of her blood status will bring great shame on your family! Our name will be laughed at and dragged through the mud for future generations to come because of her! Is that what you want? Your children will be half-bloods at best, the laughing stock!"

“How dare you speak of her that way!” Draco shouted, startling you from his tone, “If it’s shame you want to talk about then lets talk about the very war that went on at Hogwarts shall we!? The shame you brought onto the Malfoy name bringing me into your own bearings! Our children will be completely fine knowing that I will never treat them the way you have treated me my whole life!”

Lucius gaped at him

“Draco.. stop. It’s okay,” you whispered, tugging on the sleeve of his suit. 

He turned his head to face you. “No, it’s not okay.” 

He turned back to face his father. “Yes, she’s a muggle, not a single drop of magical blood runs through her. So what! She brings the best out of me and I’m lucky enough to be able to call her my girlfriend. I wouldn’t want her to be any other way and if you cannot accept that for me, then I can take myself elsewhere with the love of my life that I will one day call my wife,” he spat.

Lucius sat there with a glare. He observed your longing stare at Draco. Tears of joy glossed over your eyes. You were head over heels in love with him and you couldn’t believe everything he’s spoken about you to his father just now.

You decided to speak up. Clearing your throat, you tried your best to remain confident. “With all due respect Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy, I deeply and truly love your son. I don’t know much about the history of your family, but I do know that status means everything to you, and I promise you that even though I am a muggle with a much lower status than what you would like, I am still a good person,” you began, “I am just the same as him except I can’t do magic and I think that’s for the best considering how clumsy I am.” You chuckled a bit at the end, getting a small smile from Narcissa and Draco.

Draco looked at you with with desirous eyes. He was madly smitten with you and it was obvious to the naked eye.

“I’m so much more than just a Muggle and I could prove it to you, if you just took the time to get to know me rather than just judging me based off my witch status,” you turned to face Draco cupping his cheek in his hand, lightly brushing it with you thumb as you gazed into his eyes, “I love Draco so much with all my heart that I wouldn’t want it to be any other way. He’s everything I could’ve ever asked for and more and I truly believe that he is the one for me. He’s helping me grow as a person in places I didn’t even know I needed to grow and I admire everything your son’s become to this day and for future years to come. Our children wll be raised with nothing but love and light and I can only hope for a future where they can come running to their Grandparents in hopes that they accept them for who they are.”

Draco leaned in pressing a long over due kiss to your lips and pulled away turning back to his family.

Lucius sat back and thought about it. In their defense Draco had just dropped a bomb on them with little to no time to take in this information. Draco didn’t expect them to accept it overnight, however he does expect them to respect it.

Finally, Narcissa stood up. She stared at you for a minute before slowly walking over to you. You stood up as well and faced Narcissa gingerly. She pulled you in for a hug rubbing your back. Draco stood up as well, standing right by your side. You knew that his mother was more accepting than his father, so you hoped that he would be just as accepting.

She pulled away and smiled lightly. “I’ve nothing thought of you any less, as a matter of fact my dear, just seeing how the two of you act right now only wamrs my heart. Reminds me of the days we were just starting to fall in love, Lucius.”

Lucius held his stare, darting back between the three of you. Draco wraped his arm around your waist, pulling you closer to him and pressed a kiss to your cheek.

“Thank you, Mrs. Malfoy,” you smiled.

“Please, call me Narcissa,” she spoke. The three of you turned to face Lucius. Narcissa stared at him with a stern look, tacitly telling him to say something.

He stood up with his cane and walked slowly around the table and stopped in front of the two of you. He looked you up and down once more. He pursed his lips and spoke.

“Welcome to the family.”

And with that he walked away and out of the dining room.

#Draco Malfoy #Draco #malfoy #draco malfoy fanfic #draco malfoy fanfiction #draco fanfiction #draco malfoy one shot #draco malfoy imagine #draco malfoy imagines #oneshot #one shot #Tom Felton #felton #HP #hp fanfic #hp imagine #hp reader insert #Harry Potter #harry #potter #harry potter imagines #harry potter imagine #harry potter oneshot #hogwarts

[hateswifi]

Day 1: Inspiration

oop imma do it Day one of being commital

Daminette December: Master List

The Master: Master List

-----------------------------

Marinette had been in Gotham for some time and for the most part the architecture had been helping. Gotham was just a place where she could clear her head of all her problems and just focus on the good that was in her life at the moment.

She has an amazing boyfriend, a loving adopted family, she totally didn���t steal them from her boyfriend, and her business was doing amazing. People were loving her Gotham inspired fashion.

It was December and having ladybug tendencies, it was too cold for her. She decided that she would go to the manor to see her boyfriend because of course, he would have no quarrels with warming her up.

When she got into the foyer of the manor Alfred handed her two mugs of hot chocolate with a smile. She greeted him with a smile and headed upstairs to her boyfriend’s room and there he was snuggled up with his pets.

She took one look at him and put the mugs down on the bedside table. She took out her sketch and started sketching what she was planning to be Christmas gifts.

An hour into drawing, Damian was sturred awake by Titus getting up. Titus jumped off the bed and came to snuggle with Marinette, who was still drawing.

“Angel? How long have you been here?” Damian asks with a small, adorable, yawn.

“About an hour, I knew you haven’t been getting enough sleep so I just let you nap,” Marinette says, closing her sketchbook.

“You could’ve woken me.”

“You looked adorable though,” Marinette says, patting Titus’ head.

“I’m going to ignore that, but I’m still tired,” Damian says, standing up. Before she's able to say anything Damian drags her into bed. “Take a nap with me?” He mutters into her hair.

“Of course, Dami.”

-----------------------------

Permanent Tag List:

@ash-amg @lady-bee-fechin @damianette-is-life @mjisntme @i-will-be-your-ace @k-poplunardreams @chocolateherringtacofan @toodaloo-kangaroo @i-is-mysterious @zambie-trashart @imnotfluffy @nanakeid @animegirlweeb @long-lost-peace @iamablinkmarvelarmy @iamtheproblemchild @lilyreadbooks12 @abrx2002 @genderfluidmoma @maskedpainter @vixen-uchiha @kitsune-the1 @nathleigh

Tag List:

@daminette-december2019-2020

#maribat #marinette dupain cheng #damian x marinette #marinette x damian #damian wayne #ml x dc #damimari #daminette #Daminette-December

[rokachan]

🍰 – What do your muse’s kisses normally taste like?

Kisses from Muunokhoi are like sinking into a warm mug of spiced cocoa. Rich and heavy, bittersweet, and a subtle warmth of spice that lingers on the palette and sears into memory. If you happen to catch him drinking you'll likely be treated tot he taste of rum on his lips, that dim alcoholic tingle lacing the already heady mix of his tongue.

Roka is complicated. There's a charged sensation from her lips, a crackling spark of something almost like the threat of a storm brewing. A sweetness tangled in that looming danger. Vanilla and honey teasing the senses with saccharine promise in one hand, drawing the senses away from the sultry notes of danger that lick beneath with sharper tangs of lightning.

W'khusai is a gamble. If she's spent a sun or two away fromteh Lane and gotten herself properly cleaned up? Mint and wildflowers are prominent, a surprisingly fresh gift from lips so often used to spew nonsense or stur trouble. Smoky undertones linger when lips are drawn away. If she's been on the Lane? Dirt and sweat, whatever meal she recently grabbed. Laughter. A biting promise of never being enough for her passed with heat-soured kisses under the blazing sun and beneath the baking buildings.

#ask answered #roka #muunokhoi #w'khusai #thank you for the ask!!! <3