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teabreakpancakes · 1 year

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Temptation Frederick Kreiburg x GN Reader

Genre: Smut

power bottom reader, overstim

Doe-eyes trailed down the composer's body, face heating up at the sight of his tiny waist. Just before they could get caught, they turned away, going back to the cipher machine they were decoding. Please don't come here please don't come here please don't they pleaded internally, on the brink of having a cognitive malfunction.

Of course, the gods decided to be cruel to the survivor, delivering to them the cause of their impending "doom"—or perhaps their blessing in disguise. Granted, each conversation they've had beforehand was pleasant, consisting of them exchanging answers and questions regarding each other's lives, however, there was little chance that the composer saw them as more than a friend; Sir Kreiburg often invited you over for tea and such but that was it really.

As the vague scent of ceylon tea approached, you wiped the nervous expression off your face, facing the cipher machine's keyboard. "Hello there" he greeted with a small smile, joining you in decoding the last cipher. You had every intention of remaining silent, but out of courtesy, you decided to greet the older man with a curt, "Hello Frederick".

Considering the fact that you were being a coward by avoiding looking the man in the eye, you had missed the confusion draping over his pale face. Have I done something to displease them? the composer debated internally, eyebrows furrowing in contemplation. Grunting slightly, he stabs his tuning fork into the machine ungraciously, displaying his irritation. You flinched slightly at his rough treatment of the cipher and his tool, What was that about? is he mad? you wondered, worry creeping up your features.

The silence between you two was thick enough to be sliced through by the time the machine was primed. A soft squeak was drawn from your lips when Frederick placed a heavy hand on your shoulder. Doe e/c eyes clash against his warm grey ones; he leans down, leaving miniscule distance between your lips. "You are to meet me in my room after this match, I simply won't tolerate letting you off without a conversation about what I could have possibly done to displease you" he said with a low voice, brushing his hand against your arm as he took off towards the nearest exit gate.

Crimson slowly crawled up your neck, reaching the tips of your ears. You lift a slender hand to cover your mouth, leaning against the cipher machine with shaky irises. What was that about you trembled, unsure of whether or not you should go along with what the composer told you.

As the Cowboy took a hit, you popped the cipher, instantly activating Borrowed Time for the survivor. With that, loud cheers of approval echoed through the peculiar formless intercom that delivered messages between the survivors.

The pit of nervousness building within you only grew in size, so much so that you opted for the other exit gate, the one across the map—facing Frederick so soon would've resulted in an ineffable outcome that you wouldn't wish upon yourself, avoiding your early "doom" sounded like a much much more pleasant route.

In front of the handsome man's door is a survivor metaphorically rooted to the ground.

Your hand hovered over the brass door handle, hesitance lacing your very being. A part of you felt like bolting towards your room, or even better, jumping out the damned window. You felt deeply unwilling to have the conversation you've visualised over and over again on repeat while making your way towards the exit gate.

Groaning, you tug at your soft locks in frustration, turning on your heel before attempting to leave—only for the door to swing open. Frederick arches an eyebrow at you, "You weren't planning on leaving were you?" he inquired, leaning against his door frame with his arms crossed over his chest. Animated sweat beads form on your temple as he stared you down. You shook your head, gulping nervously as he gestures for you to enter his room.

"Make yourself at home, would you like some tea?" he hums, gazing at you curiously. Slowly, albeit awkwardly, you take a seat on the couch in his chambers, slowly relaxing into the soft material; facing him, you nod, smiling. He nods, smiling as if to reassure you before preparing the tea cups and the teapot.

Mindlessly, you began to fumble around with the fabric and accessories attached to your clothing. After a few minutes, Frederick returns with a tray of sweet treats, along with the tea. He sets down the contents of the tray before placing the tray beside the coffee table. Pouring you and himself a cup of tea, he turns to face you, to which, you do the same, just without the grace in his movements.

"Please, do try the cookies, I baked them earlier" he raises the plate towards you, looking at you expectantly. You reach for one, and before you're even able to take a bite, he shoots a question towards you. "Why have you been avoiding me?" he asked, the upset tone in his voice making you feel guilty.

He faces you with that gaze, that gaze that made him look so much more fucking attractive. You sigh and close your eyes, taking a bite of the cookie before downing it with a gulp of the aromatic tea.

"You see, darling, I..." you trail off, opening one eye. "I have feelings and thoughts of you, lascivious thoughts and passionate feelings I can't bear to voice out". You eye his expression: his dumbfounded stare and the way his mouth gapes.

You let out a small amused chuckle, attempting to stand up from the couch. "Wait, I never said you were allowed to leave" Frederick seized hold of your arm, stopping you in your tracks. The older man's eyebrows were furrowed as he stared at you, his mouth opening and closing in rapid succession as he tried formulating words.

"I don't.. I don't see how that's a valid reason to be cold to me!" he frowned, lips pursing in a thin line. Your shoulders shake slightly, muted giggles gradually turning into full blown laughter. "But it is?, I'd hardly imagine that a man of your etiquette would like for someone to stare at you with only the most indecent and lewd thoughts filling their head" you grinned, tilting your head to the side as a teasing glint filled those shining orbs. "Unless, you'd actually want for that to happen, is that the case Sir Kreiburg?~" you purred, placing your hand on his chest—closing the distance between your faces until your breath fanned his lips.

His cheeks heated up, his adam's apple bobbing up and down as he swallowed due to nervousness. "A, And what if I do?" he responded, gorgeous warm greys beginning to cloud whilst his hands melded into your hips. A soft giggle left your mouth, your eyes becoming half-lidded, "Really now? then.. you wouldn't mind then if I did this then?" placing one hand on his shoulder, you push him down to sit on the couch, climbing on top of his lap.

Frederick has practically turned into a tomato at this point, staring up at you with wide eyes—those pretty eyes that stare up at you with so much anticipation, pleading you for something. "You're much naughtier than I assumed.." you muttered under your breath, playing with a strand of his soft ashy locks with a dazed look, lifting it to your lips—"I happen to like that" you leaned down, hovering a centimeter away from his lips. Frederick grew impatient, pulling you down by your neck, locking your lips together heatedly. He pulled you into him, simultaneously pressing himself up against you.

Frederick moans into your mouth as you ground down on his hardening member. He lets out a sound akin to a whine as you pull away, chasing after you lips—your kisses are wet and sloppy, regrettably, you have to forcefully pull away to take in oxygen. "Calm down darling, I'm not going anywhere" you chuckled breathlessly, a tad bit lightheaded. Frederick is breathless, whining as he rutted up against your ass.

"Needy aren't you? has it been a while since you've been presented the chance to get off?" you question with a sultry voice, bordering the lines of jealousy. As if aware of everything you're feeling, he leans against your chest, "Yes, but it's also because you're the only one I want" he smiled innocently, akin to how a puppy would act cute for more treats, except, his goal is to quell your jealousy.

Leaning down, you press your lips against his ear, "I'll make sure I'm the only one you want and need by the end of the night". He shivers, anticipation bubbling at your promise.

Off comes his jabot and his coat as you search for every sensitive spot on his neck; you thoroughly enjoyed each sound he'd produce as you slowly stripped him of all his clothing. He tugs at your own garments, fumbling with the buttons of your shirt; his fingers glide over the expanse of your exposed skin as he strips you.

Soft lips latch onto every bit of your skin they can access, leaving marks in their wake—you sigh in pleasure, carding your fingers through his soft locks. He suckles on your rosy bud, lavishing it with licks and kisses.

His cock presses against your clothed nether regions, it's sensitive head flushed and dripping pre-cum. The sensation of his length rubbing against your sensitive sex made you terribly impatient.

"Honey," you called out, the natural lilt of your voice drawing his attention. Frederick blinked, staring up at you with eager eyes, still sucking on your nipple like an infant. "P, Pardon me for my language but, will you please fuck me already? I don't think I can handle not feeling you inside me anymore" you pulled him down with you fell atop the fluffy pillows on the bed, him landing on top of you.

Gasps of pleasure, guttural groans, and occasional whines bounce against the walls of Frederick's room. He supports his upper body weight with his forearms, gazing down at you as he thrusted into you. The sound of skin slapping skin mixed with the lewd squelch of the lube made it all the much lewder, and yet Frederick believed that the mixture of all those noises, your noises, was the best piece his ears have ever been blessed with; no other sound could top the ones you made.

Your hands crawl up his back to the base of his hickey-covered neck, before finally cupping his face. One of your thumbs swiped at the sweat beading on his forehead, before gently beckoning him to lower himself for a soft kiss. He obliges eagerly, and despite how distracted he is by your soft lips, the pace of his hips never stagger, not even once.

"I, I'm close" Frederick gasps out, speeding up, lifting your hips up to make it easier for him to reach the deepest parts of your insides. The way you wrap around him so deliciously nearly made him delirious with pleasure, he was sure that his eyes nearly looked like they were about to roll into the back of his head with each thrust really.

"Me t, too..!" you moan out, resting your forehead against his shoulder, not even attempting to muffle your high-pitched cries of pleasure. Your nails dug into his back but it simply did nothing to deter the man from making you reach your climax; he reaches down to your sex, touching your sensitive areas, hips still hammering into you. "Cum for me, please" he pleads, kissing the soft lobe of ear. As if bewitched, you do exactly as he pleaded, orgasming messily around his throbbing cock. Frederick continues to pound into you, reaching his own climax but he doesn't stop there, he grinds into you gently, easing you both from your climaxes.

He lays down beside you, pulling you into his embrace, basking in the afterglow of an intense session. He strokes the back of your head, "I love you.." he whispers, kissing the crown of your head. You smile tiredly against his chest, "I love you too Frederick" you respond, resting your head on his pectoral.

#lawless.writes #idv.writing #idv x reader #idv x gn reader #idv frederick #idv frederick x reader #idv smut #idv composer #idv composer x reader #idv frederick x reader smut #idv composer x reader smut #identity v smut #identity v x reader

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bobabees · 1 year

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hey i saw that your orders are open, and i want to order Frederick with a conductor reader

“I Just Wanna Be Part Of Your Symphony”

A/N: i unfortunately don’t know much about the profession, but i hope this is good enough! I kinda lost myself in a ramble writing this so skbdnsbdnnd ┐(￣ヮ￣)┌

Genre: Fluff

Frederick Kreiburg X Conductor Reader

Finally! Someone as passionate about music as he is!

He greatly admires your fervour for the art of music, the way you put your soul into your movements that seemed so fluid—he could watch you for hours, especially when you try and direct Antonio, Luca, Freddy, and Ganji for the next upcoming performance.

You always did seem to be excited for those, rambling on and on about ideas you had with the other survivors

It intrigued him greatly, so much so, that he wanted to join the quaint band.

But he was nervous.

He didn’t know why he was, in all his years of playing the piano, not once had he ever felt nervous about playing in front of so many people—and even if he had, he was strong enough to push past it

But this? It was different. You were different. He couldn’t quite place it—was it your seemingly bursting passion? Was it because of the fact you had a hunter in the group? Was it because he was afraid to disappoint everyone should he ever play in front of them? To disappoint you? You, who seems to view music as something more than what it is—to see it as something so ethereal?

Despite his reluctance to join your band, the moment you heard of what he used to do before the manor, the moment you found out that he played the piano, that he was a composer—you went off to find him.

And now, here he was, sitting in the practice room, with you telling him more and more about your group.

“I’m honestly finding it hard to believe that such a place would even be allowing such entertainment,” you laughed at his words, it was such a beautiful and charming sound, like a song he could never get out of his head, no matter how hard he tried.

“Oh, it took a while for us to convince Mr DeRoss to grant permission, but it worked!” Your words were filled with pure joy as you retold the story of the arduous challenges you and the others faced as you desperately tried to tell him how much entertainment was absolutely necessary for the sanity of both hunters and survivors, “Music, I believe, is a vital part of our lives. At least, for me it is. It’s a way for us to express emotions that we could never have done with just words, and for us to connect with people we never thought we would—I mean, I was terrified of Antonio when I first met him, he is a hunter, after all.” A nervous giggle escaped your lips, “and it was hard to look past the kind of—eerie grin he had or all the times he chased after me in matches…“ a shiver ran down your spine as you tried to suppress the memories of Antonio practically dragging you to the chair, or the times you couldn’t escape the notes he flung towards you.

“But the moment I heard him humming such a lovely tune—the moment I had the opportunity to actually listen to the music he played outside the matches—beneath such a terrifying exterior, was an artist—“ you whispered at the last word, stars glimmering in your eyes as you looked towards the small group of musicians before you. “We all are—and I want people to be able to express that parts of themselves instead of living in fear constantly, sure, we may have willingly come here and maybe knew what we were getting into—but we’re human. We need to express ourselves. This is just one of those ways. I mean—Look how happy they are.”

Frederick slowly followed your gaze, his eyes taking in every inch of the view before him; Luca’s eyes were furrowed as he focused on the melody that was being played from Freddy’s trombone, his fingers twitching above the keys as he tried to figure out a euphony that fitted it. Ganji playing his bansuri, the typically irate and vigorous batter was calm as he played the instrument from his culture, his shoulders sagged as he leaned against the cushions of the couch, his eyes half-lidded, and he swore he could see the corner of his lips tilted up in a smile. And there stood Antonio, a much gentler smile on his face as he—or well, his hair, played the violin, a low hum accompanying the tunes that echoed through the room.

“It’s fascinating, isn’t it?”

He turned to you, his heart nearly stopping at the way you smiled, “Music unifies us all, one way, or another, it’s one of the most beautiful creations man has ever made. It flourished far beyond our expectations, with different genres, subgenres, with using instruments from all around the world—even using things that weren’t meant to be instruments!” You laughed once again, and he couldn’t help but lean closer as if wanting to hear more of it. “It’s such a powerful thing that can bring us emotions that even we couldn’t hope to understand, it can bring memories of the past—or perhaps even an image of the future. This is what I told Mr DeRoss, and he seemed convinced enough after that since he permitted us to perform at least once a month. We’ve come a long way since then.”

He pursed his lips, holding onto his tuning fork tightly as he looked back at the small group of people—people he never thought could play such melodies. “And you dragged me here because…?”

“Because I figured that you wanted a chance to play your music. I thought offering you a space to express yourself would make you feel more at ease here.” You explained, placing your hand on his and giving him a reassuring smile. “So, what do you say? Do you want to join us?”

Frederick’s mouth gaped slightly, the words hanging on the tip of his tongue as he questioned himself for a moment. A soft sigh left his lips, “As much as I would love to,” he began “I’m afraid I am not as good as I was before, I do not want to dampen any of your performances-“

He heard a light scoff, pulling your hand away—he was sure you were going to leave the moment he rejected your offer. But instead, you gently nudged your elbow against his arm, “Nonsense, I’m sure you’re great—and besides, that’s why we practice, right?” You grinned “You don’t have to be the best of the best, that’s not what this is about. It’s about expressing yourself, playing to your heart's content, playing your music the way you want to.” You seemed so sure of your words, it contrasted so greatly with the people in his life who slowly abandoned him over time as his skills declined. His knuckles began to grow a bright red as he gripped the tuning fork tightly, “So?”

“I—“ His voice fell slightly, taking a deep breath and closing his eyes for a moment before looking into your eyes. Those eyes seemed to radiate with a fire that burned for your love for music and the arts, and the certainty that he was good enough. “I’d be honoured to join this group of yours—“

“That‘s great!” You clasped their hands together, excitement bubbling in your voice as you slipped off your seat, the weight next to him lightening as you offered a hand for him to take, “Now, come! We must introduce you before we practice!—“

“Wait—we’re practising now?!”

“Of course! What better time than now?”

It was like he had strapped himself to a rollercoaster, with no idea where it was going, when it was going to stop, and how long it was going to go for. But he would be lying if he said he didn’t enjoy it.

He adored the way your group bickered at times, the way they all seemed to have such different ways to play and yet played so beautifully the moment you came in to try and organise everything.

He cherished the way you and the others applauded him and smiled when he helped with composing the music you would play, and how he would practice with Luca in playing the piano, even creating what he would consider was one of the best pieces he has played. He never knew how amazing it would feel to play with someone else.

There were some mistakes here and there, and you always seemed to be able to calm yourself and make a light joke of it as you encouraged the others it was alright.

It was he, who made most of the mistakes the moment he joined the group, but he wasn’t entirely to blame. You should take some of it—he was constantly distracted by the fluidity of your movements, the way you swayed with each note that played, the smile that graced your face when you conducted with your baton.

Even in matches, when you two would decode together, he would find himself so mesmerised with the way you still spoke about music.

Oh, when you spoke of music. You were so passionate, it was like a fire he couldn’t control, the moment the topic was mentioned, you would go on a ramble about it. The history of it all, the beauty of it all.

And how you quelled his fears the moment he first stepped on that stage with the others, you stood before him with that encouraging smile and began to conduct—and maybe it was simply because you faced away from the crowd and was in front of him, but it felt like it was just you and him in the stage. Like it was another one of those practice sessions you all would have.

By the heavens above, did he love those moments.

The times you two would laugh at the small mistakes you both would make, how you playfully sang as he played, how he would teasingly mock you by swinging your baton around whilst you scolded him and tried to snatch it back as Luca and Antonio laughed from afar.

For the first time, in a long time, he felt excited to play the piano. And not just for the validation of those who came to watch him play—but because he truly enjoyed it.

#gn reader #identity v x reader #idv x reader #identity v #Frederick Kreiburg x reader #idv x gn reader #the composer #idv the composer #idv frederick

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luvmaiil · 2 years

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Tied Ribbons

Pairing: Joseph x Reader

Pronouns: not specified; gender neutral

Content: hunter reader, sleeping, cuddling, hair braiding, and more.

Description: You could be content forever if it mean it was with him.

Note: AA I haven't written I'm forever, I hope you can all enjoy this <3

---

Comftorable silence hung in the air as you rested your hand on your cheek. It was still midday and while you were incredibly sleepy from how many matches you did, that didn't mean you could take a break just yet.

A small cough rings through your ears as you jump away from your original position.

"What are you doing sleeping at the dinner table? It's not even noon yet mon cher"

A hand reaches out and touches your cheek, his thumb grazes your skin lightly and it brings a small smile to your face.

You gave him only a small hum as response and it brings a noise of disapproval from him.

He takes your hand without another care in the world and ushers you out of the dining room of the manor and into his room.

"You're tired, are you not? Come to my bed, your next match isn't for a few more hours. Rest with me and I will let you know when to wake up."

"But I have to practice-"

"There's no need to practice on occasions like these, there's time to practice another day"

And with that, there were no words to be said. You let Joseph guide you towards his bed and you fell onto it as soon as your knees hit the soft mattress.

It brought a chuckle to the man's face and that made you feel good, it wasnt rare for you to see eachother but spending time alone together wasn't as normal either.

Times like these where you could make eachother laugh without having to worry about other company, it made you happy.

Joseph settled in beside you on the bed, careful to keep his distance.

"Come closer Joseph" you say

He inches just a tiny bit closer, but even with the confirmation you gave him, it still didn't make him budge.

You set your head on his shoulder and place your hand on his waist as you cuddle up closer to him on the bed.

Joseph places a small kiss on your head and places a hand near your hair. Twisting and playing with it as you start to fall asleep.

It brings you into a daze and soon the atmosphere around you falls into a dark void a you close your eyes and drift off to sleep.

When you wake up again, the warmth you had wasn't there anymore. Instead of it being by your side, it felt as if it was behind you.

As the hazy feeling in your head, from just waking up, leaves it helps you regain your senses back. You twist a bit on the bed and you look back to see Joseph.

His face was smashed into the pillow, his hair set prettily on his face, and his mouth was just a bit agape as he breathes in and out.

It was a miracle you didn't wake him up with all the twist and turning you were doing.

You often were the one asleep, but you usually never saw Joseph sleep. He was always alert and on guard.

Subconsciously you reach your hand to graze his face, like how he had done with you at the dinner table.

In his sleep Joseph moves closer to you, closer to you then before.

His hand rested wrapped around you and his head was near the crook of your neck now.

Hair now right in your face, it was too tempting and you weren't about to pass on being able to play with his hair while he was asleep.

He always kept it so neat and tidy, and it still was just like that even when he was sleeping.

The ribbon I'm his hair stood just a bit crooked and you tried to fix it to the best of your abilities, but nothing really worked.

Your efforts were futile as Joseph nuzzles into you more and effectively the ribbon loosens.

It's so loose now that it just falls off, so you take it out and let his hair go down freely.

You always saw Joseph as a very pretty man, but in situations like these where his hair cascaded down his shoulders and the sun shined through the window just right. It was as if he were the most beautiful man on earth.

You admires him for all he was and you were glad to be able to spend time with him like this.

It brought a smile to your face and you decided to enjoy the moment.

You press a lingering kiss to his head and go back to sleep as you hold eachother.

You woke up again, and this time the warmth from the other man was completely gone.

Instead you saw him by a chair nearby, situated with his camera in hand. He inspected thoroughly and hadn't noticed you were awake yet.

As you look at him more closely you can see that he had the ribbon tied to his hand, his hair neatly tucked behind his ears but no ponytail or braid in sight.

You let out a small groan as you stretch, but you don't dare leave the bed, it was still so comfy and warm.

Joseph doesn't jump but he immediatly looks for the source of the noise, and he smiles to greet your sleepy appearance.

"Did you sleep well mon ange?"

You nod as you go to get up but he stops you.

Hurriedly he places his camera down and goes over to you.

He sits beside you on the bed and your hand rests beside his. You look down and see how close it is to yours and you can't help yourself but grab it.

You place a small kiss on the back of his hand, he smiles and decides to do the same to your hand.

"I have good news for you" he says as he places both hands on your waist and moves you to the middle of the bed and into a criss cross position.

"What is it?" You ask and inspect how he reaches for your hair and starts to braid it.

"Your matches for the day have been canceled, you'll be able to be with me for the rest of the day"

That brought you immense joy, you really needed a break from so many matches. Especially after all the defeats you had been getting, survivors really are tough to win against sometimes.

Your glad to be able to enjoy the moment with Joseph, and be able to spend the rest of the day with him.

You close your eyes and hum a tune as he finishes up your braid.

"There you go, mon cher" he says, and ties the braid by loosening the ribbon on his wrist and tieing it to your hair instead.

"Oh Joseph you don't have to do that"

"It is my pleasure" He places one last kiss on your head before he dives in to cuddle you for longer.

[1212 words, May/10/22]

#luvmail incoming #idv x gn reader #idv x male reader #idv x reader #idv writing #idv joseph #idv joseph desaulnier #idv oneshots #idv imagines #joseph desaulnier #joseph desaulnier x reader #joseph desaulnier x male reader #idv joseph x reader #idv joseph x male reader #gender neutral reader #male reader

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nightfallsolace · 2 years

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Joseph Desaulnier and his s/o Hcs

SO ehem ehem, I’m bored, it’s 1 in the morning, and I’ve been reading headcannons of peepaw french daddy and an amazing thought crossed me, what if i like, made a headcanon list, because I’m bored, and because I’m a simp, so, here it is, a joseph x reader head canon list, TW!! Cussing

- I really think that joseph would be like, one of the MOST romantic sexy pieces of shit, I MEAN COME ON, he’s French, it’s in his genes come one :((

-Would 100% take like, a million pictures of his s/o, he would definitely have like, at least 5 albums of them, he absolutely adores and loves his s/o with his heart, they’re legit the only one he has to cherish at this point after his brother died

-OH OH YES-- AND ALSO-- joseph would also paint them, sketch them, and literally make things based on s/o, he’s a man of art, I just think he would,

-he would literaly write poems for s/o

-THIS FLIRTY PIECE OF SHIT, he would just enjoy teasing s/o, i can just envision it, like,

-I would 100% call you french pet names “mon coeur” “mon amour” you name it.

-Idk but, i feel like he would be the type to spoil you, but would refuse the SIMPLEST of thing, like even paying the bill, or even split it, i dont know how to explain but Joseph: No, no, no, I’M paying, you don’t have to worry about anything mon amour,

S/o: Love, please, let me pay ONCE,

Joseph: *pays bill* no. -ALSO he would only take your pictures with his s/o’s consent, if they don’t want to, that’s fine, but he would still persist and still ask to take a picture of you doe

-would defo be in the mirror world and go “oh wow, it’s my love <33″, and would 100 just walk up to his s/o’s mirror version self decoding or other shit and just kiss them and the s/o would probs be blushing like “joseph wtf, im trying to escape yo sexy ass,”

-would randomly pop up behind s/o hug them, and scare them shitless

-manz would be a good cook, i just feel it in my simptacular senses

-give his s/o compliments 24/7

ok so yeah, have fun,

#joseph desaulnier x reader #x reader #idv photographer #identity v #idv joseph x reader #headcanon #joseph desaulnier #gender neutral reader #idv hcs #idv x gn reader #joseph desulnier

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magiccueball · 2 years

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hiiii!!!! can i rq soft dom mike morton hcs? :D

Soft Dom! Mike Morton/Acrobat x GN! Reader NSFW Headcanons

[NSFW- MINORS DNI]

Note: We all love ourselves a good soft dom and I love the idea of Mike fitting this role. Good choice, good choice. 😏👍 I hope you enjoy it as much as I enjoyed writing it!

]|I{•------»♡«------•}I|[

-Mike at face value seems 100% pure and sweet. And while he is rather sweet…he is anything but pure.

-He enjoys playfully teasing you in front of the other survivors mid game, catching you off guard by whispering lewd things in your ear. The flustered look on your face is adorable~

-How can he say such things with a smile on his face?

-But when you both are alone, that’s when his dominant side fully takes over.

-The way he takes full control is odd. His touches are gentle but yet hold an air of command. After he tells you how tells you how good you’ve been, you’re absolutely under his spell.

-You can feel your body tremble under his touch, your mind going weak. And yet he’s still watching your every movement with his sickly sweet smile.

-Your body would be absolutely peppered with dark markings, claiming you as his. Enduring the marks did not go unrewarded however for each one made was given a gentle kiss to ease the pain.

-Like his true acrobat self, he pushes you to your absolute limits. Bringing you both to new heights you thought you could never achieve.

-How deep can he thrust himself inside you before it becomes too painful?

-How loud could he make you moan from pleasure?

-How far could your endurance carry you if he fucked you over and over and over…?

-But his favorite thing to do was edge you. He’d bring you ever so close to the brink only to pull you back.

-How naughty of you to want to cum without his say so!

-You would be begging on the verge of tears and he’d wipe them away with a gentle thumb while buried deep inside you.

-Perhaps if you could survive his countdown, he’ll let you. He knows how good you are at being obedient~

-Every number he counted down was only making you tremble more. You didn’t think you could hold back much longer.

-Once he got close to the last three numbers, his counting slowed. He wanted to watch your eyes roll back, your tongue lolling out.

-The sign of a job well done.

-…1.

-In unison, your voices rung out in a chorus of moans and cries of pleasure. It was almost too much for the both of you to take.

-He collapsed beside you for a while, holding you close and telling you how wonderful you did. How wonderful you are. Over and over he’d make all the pain melt in a single touch and a kiss.

-Once he at least found the strength to move around again, he’d help you clean up so you could spend the rest of the day in your warm bed.

-The aftercare is always the best part. Doting on you and making sure you’re all better afterwards. Drinking water and plenty of good snacks to help you feel all better physically and emotionally.

-Though…he won’t apologize if you can’t walk the next day. Just means he gets to care for you even more tomorrow~

#identity v x gn reader #identity v x gn!reader #identity v x gnreader #idv #idv headcanons #idv x gn reader #idv x gn!reader #idv x gnreader #idv x reader #identity v #mike morton #mike morton x reader #Headcanons #headcanon #identity v headcanons #identity v headcanon

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fishermanshook · 4 months

Note

HELLO :33 could i request some hurt/comfort w norton or edgar?? maybe their so get's badly injured in a match like dying at their feet and stuff and when they come back their partner comforts them?? ;^;

of course annon! enjoy <3

Meet Me Here Again (prospector x gn!reader x painter , separate)

INTRO

You really must've done something to piss Geisha off, as she usually isn't one to put Survivors in situations like this. But none the less, she's left you to bleed out on the ground of Leo's Memory, where the cold has numbed your fingers and turned your lips blue.

But Geisha can't help but secretly writhe in the way your body crawls towards her, leaving a bread crumb trail of your blood as you plead desperately to just be chaired already.

The match leaves your body bloodied and bruised and will definitely haunt your dreams from here on out. But have no fear, your boyfriend is here and will help nurse you back from just one of your many traumatizing matches.

The Prospector

Norton doesn't learn of the events that took place until the next morning, when he's noticed you've skipped breakfast and only finds out now. Last night's match ended horribly, as evident by the cuts and bruises that have decorated themselves across your body. The Prospector almost drops your breakfast as you explain the situation to him with tears streaming down your face. The man swears to stay by your side as he helps you recover. Unfortunately, the world still moves, and he's forced to complete his daily match(es) before he can return to your side.

Norton hates having to see you in pain let only hearing you moan in agony. Norton's already had to change your sheets twice because your cuts kept bleeding through the bandages— and oh god he just hates seeing you like this. The Prospectors pissed that Geisha left you in a state like that, as bleeding out is a serious deal and shouldn't be taken lightly. But at last, Hunters will be Hunters. He can only hope that you heal up quickly as he spoon feeds you a second serving of soup.

The Painter

Edgar finds out earlier than Norton, having gone to your room after he finished his last match. All he wanted to do was cuddle a little with his s/o before falling asleep, but it seemed the manor had other plans for him. After opening the door, he's greeted with sniffling and immediately knows something's wrong. Turning on the light, he rushes over to you and bombards you with questions as to what happened. Gently lifting up the covers answers all his questions, as he's met with countless scars and bruises across your body. He thinks he might cry just seeing you like this. The Painter slowly lowers himself into your bed and wraps his arms around you in an attempt to comfort you.

The Painter brings his painting supplies over to your room, as he's in it almost half the time. He's inside your room even more now that you're hurt. You wonder how Edgar still finds inspiration to paint in your room, he just says you are his inspiration. Wherever you are, his heart can't help but follow. You think it's true, as he seems to paint even more when you're with him. So despite you being bed bound, he'll stay by your side.

note: i didn't think art block would kick me in the a this badly, sorry this is so short :(

(2023)©️fishermanshook — do not steal, translate, plagiarize, or repost my work on any other platform

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chuuyasfanboy · 4 months

Text

No request with this one, just me being self indulgent because I'm an IDV addict again and I love Postman!!! Wrote this all while doing rank, congratulate me on multitasking

Paperboy x Reader

I'm an avid believer in all the skins having different personalities

So while default Victor is more reserved (NOT shy, The Prince is the shy one), I believe Paperboy is the most extroverted right behind Keyboard

He's a different kind of extroverted though

He's more focused on his blog than real life people, and so most of the conversing he does is through online forums and the like

DOES NOT mean he's afraid of in person convos!

His whole propaganda gang is trying to get people to STOP relying on tech, of course he doesn't mind talking to people irl

He's way more outwardly neurodivergent than the other variants, could probably rant FOREVER about product design, logos, hmtl and css, etc. He's really passionate about what he does

He's definitely lacking in friends though, despite all that

Other than his Call of the Abyss gang, he really doesn't get to talk to many people

It's pretty saddening, because after the fourth (read: ten-thousandth) rant about Have Fun, the only one who will listen is Luca, maybe sometimes Will

He really doesn't mind, but he does wish he could tell more people about it, people he liked

This is where YOU come in!!!

Someone new to the squad, someone who's interested in what he has to say!

Plus, even if you don't understand any of it, he has a cute puppy, isn't that enough to lure you in?

Speaking of Wick (whomst I will be referring to with all pronouns because I've been told that dog is every gender and I don't know what to believe anymore), he's the sweetest puppy ever!

When she's not ruining Jose's little dj gigs and radioshows, they're the most well behaved dog you will ever meet!

Play fetch with it, he will bring the ball back and give you puppy kisses while she's at it!

Victor LOVES seeing the two of you interact, it makes his heart explode with joy

Yes, he does talk to Wick like they're a real person. No, you cannot stop him. No, he does not use a baby voice, he is entirely serious about it.

Write him letters, he's never gotten one, none of his variants have except for maybe Prince.

He'll be SO SO SO HAPPY he'll love you forever

That's probably what kickstarted his little crush, actually, because he definitely fell first AND harder

You probably sent him an anonymous fan letter, just trying to make sure he knew people liked his blogs

He nearly CRIED running around showing everybody else, and you just laughed all joyfully at his excitement

He vowed he would find out who wrote it and write them back a thousand more word of appreciation

Imagine his joy when he found out (read: doxxed the letter for info) it was you!!

Yeah, he actually cried this time

Happy tears, I swear!

He promised you he would never ever forget it, and you KNOW he didn't, because he still brings it up years later as the happiest day of his life

Since the Call of the Abyss movement advanced and began making a motion, he'd received so many more fan letters, messages on his blog, and other things of that nature

But yours? Pinned up on his wall, FRAMED in gold

Takes every chance he gets to show it off, even if everybodys seen it before

Back to more general headcanons, Victor is completely nonverbal

He communicates through his lil mask thing, projecting words on it

He also uses it for more practical things

Like spreading more anti-Metropolis propaganda!

When he wants you to understand some niche thing he's into, he projects a video essay on to the screen, makes you watch it like a movie

Even with his eyes obscured and his words filtered, he's still extremely expressive, and its easy to tell what he's feeling

His face goes REEEEED when he's flustered or embarassed

And his lips are so so cute when he pouts

The only person he actually talks to is Wick, he does it in private, very few people get to see it

Even with you and the others, he's never spoken, only grunted or giggled or something small to acknowledge what you've said

When the plan to expose the Aurora finally closed in, and the final day was approaching, he excitedly ran around showing off his latest design

The first real print he'd made, he'd been banned from most shops and had to be careful entering them because of the guards, so he hadn't gotten the chance to bring them into reality

But finally, after Luca managed to get him a nice printer and a lifetime supply of ink, he did it

They were gorgeous- or- not the right word

They were effective.

He's really a genius in the graphic design department, slaving away hours over his laptop creating the perfect logos to draw in attention

He was incredibly excited that he finally got to spread it the way he's always wanted to

And he really hopes its as effective as he's been told

Hopes that it will encourage people to go find the sun once more

Back to the cute fuzzy romance!

It's a little awkward to kiss him, considering he almost NEVER takes off his little mask

Sometimes he does, but he really wants to save it for when the sun rises on Metropolis, it's a big dream he has

You really have to tilt your head, but its very worth it

He's soft all around, hands, arms, lips

And also, he smells like lavender

Dont ask me how I know, but its canon, I was his perfume

He really likes flowers, even though he's only seen pictures

He thinks they're gorgeous, and he believes they'll smell even better in person, better than any scent a cheap perfume shop could provide (sorry Vera!)

While he may be hard to kiss, he loves hugs, the tighter the better

Even if he feels like he's being squeezed apart, the closeness makes him feel safe

He hopes sunlight feels that warm

Sometimes, he takes you out to the theatre to watch the Aurora

"To research," he'll tell you

But really, he's just a hypocrite

Even if she's false, she does have a beautiful voice

He would never deprive you of beautiful things

He figures two extra tickets can't do too much harm, right?

Take that unsure answer as you will.

#idv #identity v #idv x reader #identity v x reader #victor x reader #victor grantz x reader #postman x reader #paperboy x reader #idv paperboy #idv postman #x reader #victor grantz #requests open #male reader #female reader #gn reader

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stellari-s · 4 months

Text

🎄

request; kind of from a friend? well, merry early christmas, guys! i probably won't be around when it actually comes, so.

wc; 326.

tags; gn! reader, default! ithaqua, could be romantic or platonic (your choice & ambiguous), christmas🎄✨, soft, kind of fluff with maybe a small hint of angst, based off of a certain twisted wonderland quote.

summary; having known ithaqua for a while now, you decide to ask what he wants for christmas this year... what will he say?

“what do you want for christmas?” you sit on the wooden chair, taking small bites from a cake you had brought from the foothill town. “it’s almost that time.”

ithaqua at first insists it’s ‘nothing’, a front you can't help but chuckle at. “must i always read your feelings?” you tease, “you can’t keep them hidden away forever. nor am i psychic, for better or worse.”

“ah, fine, you just want me to come up with something?” ithaqua thinks to himself, his finger on his chin. you could practically see the gears turning in his head.

“well, you think about it. i’m going to wash the dishes. it's the least i can do for coming over somewhat uninvited.”

ithaqua smiled wryly. “...for better or worse, i'm used to it.”

some time later...

“i do have one christmas wish, i suppose.”

“took you long enough. so? what is it you wish for?”

“for you...” ithaqua averts his eyes. for a moment, you think you can see his cheeks flush a bit - was it the lighting of the fireplace crackling beside you two? “...to smile more this year. i guess.”

you widen your eyes; you weren’t sure what answer you were expecting, but that was not one of them. to top it off, you can feel something wrap around you.

ithaqua is hugging you from behind. an unexpected gesture, considering his general aversion to physical touch, but maybe if he initiated it it was within his comfort?

his hug is a little awkward, like he hadn't hugged since a time forgotten, but his arms are nonetheless warm.

“you’re not afraid of me, and i still haven’t figured out why. you’re a complete mystery that i can’t solve. yet, despite all that... i find i’m slowly becoming more afraid.”

“afraid?”

“afraid of losing you,” he whispers, his arms tightening slightly around you, “i don’t know why - and i don’t think i will know for the rest of my life.”

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eunxhan · 3 months

Text

❝ You are my object of admiration, my precious and perfect possession. You're mine and only mine. From now on, you will always belong to me, and I'll always praise you and worship you ❞

•◦✦────•◦ᘡᘞ •◦────✦◦•◦•

Ꮺ 😻 Requested ⨾ Hiii just 😻 Anon passing by again, I wanted to request one final time (for now) a simple yan! bloody marry, Btw luv your writing, Thanks!

Ꮺ Eun Replies ⨾ Hello! I'm so grateful for your request and I'm happy you came by again, Your kind words hit my heart. I love her character and how they design her.

•◦✦────•◦ᘡᘞ •◦────✦◦•◦•

Ꮺ Disclaimer — I do not condone this kind of behavior in real life situations. Unhealthy relationship, violence, delusion, observation. English is not my main!

Reader & Genre ⨾ GN!reader, ( You, They/them, Darling, Beloved ), Can be seen as platonic and/or romantic

Words used ⨾ 8,100 ( 18 headcanons )

Character ⨾ BLOODY QUEEN / BLOODY MARY

Links ⨾ My Navigation and Mandates

•◦✦────•◦ᘡᘞ •◦────✦◦•◦•

I view her as a possessive and controlling type of yandere. She would have deep and intense feelings for her object of affection, and a strong desire for exclusive companionship and ownership. Her possessive behaviors would likely involve a willingness to monopolize the affection of the one she loves and a need to control and possess them. She would likely see herself as entitled to the sole attention and devotion of the person she is obsessed with, and would probably use manipulative and aggressive methods to ensure she is the only one who has access to her beloved.

She's very observant when it comes to her object of affection. She would pay close attention to all their behaviour, movements, and actions in order to maintain a high level of control. She would likely be highly aware of any potential threats to her dominance and control over the one she loves, and would be quick to take action and make sure that the one she loves remains dedicated to her and only her.

Mary constantly noticing and observing the minute details of their behaviors and actions. This attention and observation include a heightened awareness of their emotions, thoughts and feelings, allowing her to quickly pick up on subtle shifts and changes in their moods and states of mind. No dear, of course she will not use your emotions against you. She just love watching you.

She's easily jealous and prone to intense episodes of possessiveness when the reader is with other survivors. She would likely become extremely controlling over her beloved, demanding absolute exclusivity and ownership over the reader. Any presence or interactions of darling with other survivors would likely cause intense feelings of jealousy and insecurity in blood queen, causing her to respond with anger, aggression and a desire to remove or eliminate any competitors for the Darling's attention and affection.

She'll become extremely possessive and clingy, demanding excessive attention and time from the reader. She would likely become extremely possessive and possessive over her darling, demanding them only interact with her and no one else. She would likely resort to stalking, spying to ensure their attention and affection remained solely with her. She'll show extreme levels of jealousy and aggression towards any perceived romantic competitors for the reader's affection.

She'll manifest in her intense and unhealthy fixation on her beloved, to the point of losing sight of the difference between fantasy and reality. She would likely start to lose the ability to differentiate between their actions and behaviors in reality and those in her fantasies. She would likely act as if she is actually in a relationship with Darling, and would start to act as if they have actual real feelings for her, blurring the lines between the relationship she wants the two of them to have and the actual state of the relationship.

she's likely be plagued by recurring, intrusive thoughts or urges about her darling, such as the need to possess and control over you, or the need to keep you in her life. These urges would likely manifest in her obsession with you and her obsession with owning the you.

Mary would suffer intense feelings of anxiety and discomfort when those urges or thoughts are not being satisfied or followed, and struggle to function regularly unless she is able to fulfill those urges.

She would likely feel frustrated and angry that you're avoiding her, feeling as if you're purposely not interacting with her and trying to snub her. Bloody queen would likely react with more obsessive behaviors, becoming even more possessive and controlling of you in an attempt to force the reader to interact with her and give her attention. She would likely become even more intense and aggressive, becoming more volatile and unpredictable to force you to stop avoiding her.

Bloody queen would react with extreme anger and aggression if her beloved always hit her with the reality that you don't care or love her. She would likely feel hurt by the rejection, and would likely respond with a strong display of anger and hostility, potentially leading to violence and an attempt to hurt you.

Mary would not handle the rejection well, and would likely respond with more obsessive and controlling behaviors that could lead to a greater level of aggression and hostility.

If she felt rejected and ignored by you during trials, she would likely become very angry and aggressive. would likely feel deeply hurt, angry and insulted by the rejection, and might not be able to control her violent impulses or outbursts. She would likely want to cause physical damage to the reader as well as psychological damage, and an attack would likely be a way to do both.

She would likely attack the reader as a way of venting her frustration and expressing her anger at the reader for not giving her attention and affection. She will launch violent attacks towards you, trying to harm and even kill the player as a way to express her angry and aggressive feelings. She would likely want to make you feel the same way she feels, and would likely want to inflict a similar level of pain and damage that you have caused her.

She would act soft and gentle towards you in certain situations. She'll become soft and gentle when you're showing a level of kindness and compassion towards her that you do not normally have during trials.

There are some cases where you may see a softer side of Bloody queen in certain special events. Mary could show mercy or kindness towards the reader in these situations. Her sudden gentleness toward her darling would be jarring and unexpected after her usual hostile and aggressive behavior, but it would also be refreshing to you.

Though she is known for her violent and aggressive behavior, Bloody queen has also been known to express some gentleness and affection towards the one she loves, and dolling you up could be a way she expresses a softer and kinder side of her. Dolling up her beloved would likely involve applying makeup, hairstyling and dressing them in a way that emphasizes your beauty and appeal to Mary.

Bloody queen likely have a desire to see the one she loves look and feel their best, and this would manifest in her dolling up her lover. She would likely pick out nice clothing, accessories, or hair and makeup that she thinks suits you, and would likely feel proud of the appearance and beauty she has bestowed upon the person she loves.

Bloody queen sees you as a source of satisfaction and validation for her obsessive behaviors and her attachment to you. She would likely want to please you and make you happy, and would likely consider your praise and worship as the highest form of attention and affection.

However, her worship of you would likely be in a somewhat dominant and controlling manner, rather than truly praising and worshiping you as a superior being. Bloody queen might express her praise and worship towards you, but with the intention of reminding and enforcing that you're within her control, and also to further express her authority and dominance in the relationship.

•◦✦────•◦ᘡᘞ •◦────✦◦•◦•

Ꮺ ⨾ I DO NOT CONSENT TO MY WORK BEING COPIED OR TRANSLATED.

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k4shibe · 1 year

Text

CREEP! — ANDREW KREISS

summary, creepy andrew is obsessed with u :P

content, andrew/gn reader, 18+!!, creep andrew, underwear stealing, masturbating to items, religious mentions, andrew using stuff in a sexual way, no sexual intercourse im too lazy

note, wrote this to cope with losing my idv account and also bc i love sub andrew and writing sub characters 😭

word count, 292

creep! andrew, who at first doesn’t care about anyone, believing that anything or anyone was too good for him, but when he see’s your beauty he knows he wants to be yours.

creep! andrew, who would only give you a couple of glances, or even just imagine you outside of the manor. his thoughts then turned into inappropriate imaginations about you under your clothing.

creep! andrew, who feels ashamed of his thoughts as a religious man. however he still believes that it wasnt really his fault as you were too provocative for him.

creep! andrew, who would sneak in to your room while you go to another one of your matches, immediately going in to your room to steal your underpants as his prize for putting so much effort into figuring out your match schedule.

creep! andrew, who’s dick would get rock hard whenever he saw you bend over to open a chest. trying to get himself together imagining the things he could do to you if the both of you weren’t in a match.

creep! andrew, who would steal the toothbrush you put in your mouth and use it as a sex toy, sticking it up his ass. high-pitched moans being heard from his room with no shame.

creep! andrew, who uses his role as rescuer to get closer and closer to you, even just your scent or a light-hearted “thank you!” with the perfect smile you give him, gives his big dick a embarrassingly noticeable boner

creep! andrew, who would have a collection of things of his you’ve touched, or your items under his bed. like for example, the underpants he got from you? its sticky now, or your toothbrush? the bristles are ruined and it looks abused

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mochashot · 1 year

Note

hmm hi, I saw you write for identity v and I would like to ask Wu Chang with a gn reader "illusionist" with the ability to enter a locker and transport himself to a random one, thanks

Wu Chang x gn reader

A/n: I wasn't sure what type so I'm gonna do a list of headcanons:](Also please excuse me I haven't touched that game within 2 years)

Cw/tw: ooc Wu chang, swearing, crack and uh thats it I think.

♤ Starting off, when you guys first met it was Fan that was out and he was already in a bad mood from constantly being pallet slammed.

♤ SO when he found YOU, he decided to come after you the whole match. And when the last cipher popped you went into the locker and Fan was like

Reader:*Runs into locker hoping to get a locker near the exit gate*

Fan:"what the absolute fuck is the survivor doing?.."

♤ When he reached to the locker and opened it, poof you were gone. He was in shock and then surrendered after. Man was tired

♤ As for you actually got a locker near the dungeon, before you can say anything the match was over since Fan surrendered.

♤ When you met Xie(Xie Bi'an), he was just being friendly since Fan was still in a bad mood. You went into the locker as he followed just to take you out to spin you around. He was confused as hell and pointed towards the locker in confusion.

♤ Kevin told him that you were an illusionist that you're able to transfer yourself into another locker around the map to escape. And make it look like you were trying to hide stupidly while the hunter was after you

♤ skipping around a bit

♤ When you guys got close enough they could probably tell where you go after entering a locker. (In this headcanon ima just say you teleport to the nearest survivors)

♤which ends up you telling your teammates sorry as they glare but soon get over it. Definitely made Fan's life easier for matches. Xie had to scold him for consently targeting you every single match.

♤which makes you slam more pallets on him while laughing at him for constantly targeting you

Fan:*Pouting and chasing you with no mercy* "STOP LAUGHING YOU BUFFOON"

You:*Wheezing your ass off* " YOU'LL NEVER TAKE ME ALIVE-" *trips over a rock and gets chaired*

Fan: "As you were saying?"*smug ass face*

You: "Quite you asshole." Mumbling to yourself *Looks away in embarrassment*

♤ You manage to catch on in this plan of his and made a plan with the survivors to screw him up a bit.

♤They do spare you though if they aren't feeling it or they see you tired.

A/n:Didn't have much for this, but I hope it's to your liking <3

#mocha_shot #idv x reader #wu chang x reader #wu chang #xie bian #fan wujiu #identityv x reader #gn reader

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teabreakpancakes · 1 year

Text

im in love with the way you think @bobabees

A Baker's Struggles Bloody Queen, Photographer, Wu Chang, Geisha, Axe Boy, "Disciple", "Hermit", Naiad, and Feaster & GN Baker Reader

Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Fluff

Wasted Delicacy

"Son of a biscuit" the baker mutters, hearing their heartbeat race, indicating that the hunter was nearby. Three ciphers had already been popped beforehand but the thing is, whilst going around the map and healing the injured survivors with your treats, the hunter found you by tracing the aroma of your goodies.

"Luca," they spoke, carding their fingers through the inventor's soft brown locks. Luca hums, head twitching as he nibbled on the cookie, occupied with the cipher machine. "Dear, the hunter is nearby, I suggest scurrying off to another cipher so they don't target you" they coaxed, gently pushing the brunette off the cipher machine.

The inventor blinks owlishly, nodding with a toothy smile, "Thanks, s, see you later" he waves, running off to the nearest cipher. They smile before continuing the unfinished cipher, waiting for the hunter to appear.

The hunter draws nearer and nearer, making their heartbeat pick up more and more. They nod, picking up their basket and vaulting the window, activating their speedboost.

Looking behind them, they spot the hunter a few meters away from them, already preparing their abilities.

They really didn't mean to make you spill your cookies, so when they accidentally smacked the basket out of your hands, they really didn't intend to do so. Your eyes remained stuck on the treats splayed across the ground.

The hunter approached the still survivor, surprised to see you walking near them with a downcast gaze. You point to their weapon, "End me already" they said, tone void of any emotion.

The hunter eyes you, unsure of what to do, sure, it is a free kill, but it's no fun if you won't even try.

Footsteps approach the two, stilling at the sight of the hunter. They watch with interest as they attempt to console the devastated survivor.

Why did they want to try consoling one of the various pain in the asses they had to deal with? they didn't know either, it just... came over them.

𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘

"Now now, you're a baker, surely, you have more?" the queen chided in an almost questioning manner. The baker frowned at her words, "Those were all the cookies I baked" they replied solemnly, voice quiet.

Mary, unsure of what to say, instead chose to let out a quiet "ah", waiting for you to speak—she wouldn't want to make a fool out of herself trying to pry more from someone that would eventually speak up. The baker looked up at her, gaze never wavering, "I spent three hours on those, I made extra for everyone too" they spoke, frustration rolling off their tongue.

Mary didn't know how to respond, but, by instinct, she placed one of her cold hands on top of their head. "I don't think it would be too late to let everyone have a taste if we ended the match right now," she paused, a bit unsure of how she should continue.

"I'll... even try to help if you'd like" she whispered, patting their head gently as if they were her child—it could just be that she was missing her own children but it wouldn't be so bad if she indulged just a bit.

𝐉𝐎𝐒𝐄𝐏𝐇 𝐃𝐄𝐒𝐀𝐔𝐋𝐍𝐈𝐄𝐑𝐒

"Are you really just going to remain in that position until I strike you because of some pastries?" the older man questioned, a bit annoyed because a survivor was throwing a tantrum over pastries. The baker sighed, mumbling something the former count wasn't able to decipher.

"Speak up, no one can hear you with how quiet you are" Joseph frowned, leaning down slightly in order to hear them a bit better. "I, I made a lot more than usual so everyone could have a taste even after the match—those were the last ones" they grumbled, frustration piercing through their upset exterior.

The photographer's mouth parts slightly, eyes softening. He had read the baker's background beforehand, he remembered that they valued the art of baking much more than other bakers, to them, pastries are things you should pour your heart into making.

"I apologise for being insensitive, I," he paused, wondering about how to proceed. After thinking for a few more seconds, a lightbulb lights up in the french man's head. "Would you like me to teach you a recipe my... brother and I used to love?" he offered, albeit a bit hesitantly. He watches your eyes light up at the idea, taken aback when you embrace him. "Yes, I would" you mouth into his waist coat, smiling when he returns the hug.

𝐗𝐈𝐄 𝐁𝐈'𝐀𝐍 & 𝐅𝐀𝐍 𝐖𝐔𝐉𝐈𝐔

Bi'an lowered the umbrella, looking down at the survivor with concerned eyes. Wujiu was displeased, Why are they so upset over pastries? he complained, sighing in irritation.

The white guard kneels before them, umbrella tucked under his arm. He takes their hand in his, rubbing it reassuringly. His smile is small but apologetic, amethyst eyes uncertain yet firm with resolve.

"Are you alright?" he asks, his soft baritone sounding comforting to your ears. You sniffle slightly, shaking your head—looking into his enchanting orbs. He slowly moves to cup the side of your face, finding the feeling of your warmth against his cold hand pleasant.

Fan sighs from within the umbrella, feeling a bit guilty. It must've taken you a while to make those treats and now all that effort has been wasted. Perhaps, he could step out of the umbrella, he could help you with baking and Bi'an isn't all that lacking in that aspect either so he could also help. It felt oddly troublesome and yet, it felt welcome.

𝐌𝐈𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐊𝐎

Worry paints over her delicate features, she lowers her fan, slipping it into her obi. She rubs their shoulder, "I apologise for the cookies, do you have any more?" she asks, staring down at the survivor.

You swallow, shaking your head. "Those were all of them, I, I made extra for everyone but now it's all gone" you whispered, disappointment rolling off you in waves.

She smiles softly, you reminded her of the people she used to care for back when she was still alive. Michiko pulls out a small Wagashi, presenting it before the small survivor.

"If you'd like, I can help you in making more, I know quite a bit about making pastries" she offered, smiling at them genuinely. She watches their expression light up, a grateful smile gracing her. "Thank you, I would like that" they spoke, taking the Daifuku from her hand.

Gluttonous Hunters

The hunters don't need food, but that doesn't mean they don't wish to partake.

The baker huffed, leaning against the rocket chair. They shift uncomfortably, trying their best to not drop the basket in their lap. The hunter eyes the basket with interest, the pleasant aroma drawing them towards it.

They snatch the basket from your lap, obtaining a random treat and taking a bite out of the delicious dessert without paying any mind to you.

They always heard the survivors talk about how your treats were the best they've tasted, they've always wanted to judge whether or not that was true or not.

𝐀𝐋𝐕𝐀 𝐋𝐎𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐙

The inventor eyed the basket with interest; whilst he was still alive, Herman would often get him to try out new dishes, recipes and treats of all sorts—but he had to admit, the aroma of your pastries stood out amongst all of the pastries he's had beforehand.

Alva leans on the wall behind him, admiring the craftsmanship of the basket. The chaired survivor eyes the tall hunter, eyes trained on his every move. Their eyes widen when he makes a move to retrieve one of their goods from the basket.

The baker frowns, "Hey! I only made enough for the survivors!" they hollered out, visibly annoyed. Alva glanced at them, cocking his head—"Will you make some for me after the match if I only eat one?" he asked, eyes holding a particular look in them that made it hard to say no.

The baker blinked repeatedly, shocked to hear the hunter being so polite during a match. They huff, nodding, "Alright, I will, b, but, don't eat those okay?" they request with a pleading look, knowing only two pastries are left. Alva smiles slightly, placing the basket in their lap gently.

𝐆𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐄

Grace traced the patterns of the basket, smiling gently. The baker stared up at her, wide-eyed, in awe of the pretty woman. "Y, You can taste them if you want" they say, bashfully looking away.

The hunter eyes the survivor, she knows you're different from all the other humans but she just can't bring herself to warm up to anyone so easily.

She nods hesitantly, taking a pastry in between her two fingers before chipping off a small piece with her teeth. Her eyes widen, palate screaming with joy at the taste.

She peers down at the survivor, tapping their shoulder gently. Smiling at them softly, she ruffles their hair, hoping that it would deliver her gratitude.

𝐑𝐎𝐁𝐁𝐈𝐄 𝐖𝐇𝐈𝐓𝐄

The boy's mouth waters at the aroma of the pastries, hugging the basket to his chest. His head shifts up, hesitantly meeting the baker's gaze. "C, Can I have some?" the kid asks, as polite as he can be.

The baker opens their mouth, contemplating. Do I give in to the kid and spare the survivors none or... they consider, already reaching a decision. "You can eat them all, but leave one okay?" they beam.

Robbie embraces them for a bit before opening the basket and snacking on the treats. The boy practically vibrates with joy, enjoying the taste of each wonderful treat.

"Do you like them?" the baker prods, staring fondly at the sight of the hunter being a kid. The hunters all seemed human in one way or another, the baker thought, smiling. The boy nodded fervently, hand still stuck under the accessory covering his head.

𝐌𝐈𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐊𝐎

Onyx eyes widen slightly upon hearing a soft thud from behind her. Turning around, she eyes the basket on the ground. The survivor looked visibly flustered, in an awkward position that made it look like they were attempting to retrieve the basket.

The Geisha only smiled graciously, gently picking it up. She dusted off the basket before presenting it in a manner only a seasoned hostess would know how to. She placed it on their lap, gazing at them curiously when they nudge it towards her.

"Are you offering me one?" she voiced out euphoniously, lowering herself until she was face-to-face with them. You nod, "I, If you don't mind, you can have some, I made a bit more than usual" you replied, smiling at the hunter.

She smiled gratefully, gently opening the basket before taking a cookie into one of her hands. She flicks her hand fan open before taking a bite of the cookie. Her obsidian eyes seem to sparkle with each bite. Finishing the cookie, she bows to the survivor, thanking them.

𝐇𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐔𝐑

His tentacles manhandle the basket, forcing out angry yells of disapproval from the survivor. He pays you no mind, examining the beautifully crafted basket.

He lifts up one of the hatches, greeted by the soft and warm aroma of their pastries. The eldritch god takes one of the cupcakes into his hand, while the baker watches in horror as a rift rips through his "face" forming a mouth.

He seems to be pleased by the taste—judging by the fact that he literally threw the basket's contents down that very same rift. Hastur emits a sound resembling a cat's purring, and slowly, the rift slowly shuts, reassuring you that you wouldn't in fact be one of the things on the menu.

He slithers close to you, placing the basket back onto your lap. "I would like for you to make more for me after the match" he requests, oddly docile as he trails his odd tentacle up your neck, purring even more when you nodded. It felt weird to have the hunter rub your body, it felt as if he was treating you as his pet.

520 notes · View notes

bobabees · 1 year

Note

Hello, my dear! I stumbled upon your blog and fell in love with your fluffy writings! And then, I saw that your request are open!

If that's not hard or of that's not uncomfortable, May I politely request Professor with Tango Dancer (I am in love with male suits-) Reader? 👀

Feel free to decline! That’s okay, I respect boundaries. And take your time! I can wait

Sorry for my possible mistakes, English is not my native language, heh

Bye, have a good day, stay healthy and hydrated!

“The Beginning Of A New Story”

A/N: no worries at all, and i love this idea (≧∇≦)!! i think i went a bit overboard but i hope it’s to your liking!! have a good day too! remember to stay hydrated!

CW: i completely forgot to add this hhhhhh, the reader is wearing a dress!!

Genre: slight angst + fluff

Luchino Diruse x Tango Dancer Reader

Word count: 5,518 words

If he had to be honest, he was never one to indulge in the art of dance, nor did he ever find interest in it. This doesn’t mean he disliked it when people danced, no, of course not! He understands and acknowledges the immense effort that is required to dance and does find amusement when he sees people express themselves in such a way. But at the end of the day, to him, it was just a dance. Something to glance at when there was nothing else to pay attention to.

He never thought it would be something that would grab his attention completely

But by the heavens above, did he feel that way when he saw you take the stage.

At first, he could barely pay attention to the loud applauses that echoed throughout the theatre, the laughter and chit-chatter that would follow as they awaited the next performance. The almost grating voice that came from the man who announced the next performance. His leg bounced as he propped his arm up, resting his fist against his cheek gently in a rather bored manner.

He had only come here to take a breather from his research, and typically, he would go for a walk down the street. But it seemed too mundane for him that day, and after hearing of this new and quite popular theatre—he may as well see what the whole fuss was about.

He had to admit, he enjoyed the performances—at the beginning, at least. Over time, he grew bored and found his mind now drifting off to his work and the thoughts of him rather being anywhere else but here where he would just watch people dance began to flood his mind.

He was about to leave, he swore it—he was eager to as he began to make sure he had everything

But the moment he stood up, he saw you

The way you strode on the stage with such unnerving confidence, with the proudest of smiles on your face, your gaze piercing the crowd. You radiated with pride and courage, your hands clutching on the soft ends of your dress as the lights gradually zoned into you, and solely you.

His breath hitched, nearly falling back on his seat with eagerness at the sight, the way your dress clung to every part of you so perfectly, how your shoulders were bare and shone under the lights, the way your hair bounced with each step, your soft smile yet poise smile—he unconsciously settled into his seat, though, not entirely as he had leant forward, as if trying to get a good look at you. His eyes glistening with curiosity and eagerness to know what you would do.

It was a surprise to everyone when they heard of what you were going to perform—a tango. And yet, they saw no one else on the stage but you. There were soft murmurs that now seeped into the air; ‘has their partner abandoned them?’, ‘Perhaps they got stage fright!’, ‘How embarrassing, how do you perform such an intimate dance on your own? I would have simply dropped out!’—all these whispers and yet you stood there, continuing to hold your head high as you awaited the signal for you to start.

With the slow start of the music, you began to move—and he swore he felt like a young child pressing their face against the display window of a candy store, eyeing the delicacies with new found hunger and desire. The gentle clicking of your heels followed the music so perfectly, the way your arms stretched out into the air, how your hips swayed and twitched along with your dress that followed along so smoothly—you moved like water, and yet you held a passion so similar to fire.

Each step you took, each move you made, held nothing but power and certainty of yourself, and not once had that poise smile faltered as you danced. Instead, you had let out a quiet laugh as you bent back slightly, your hands delicately moving.

You were meticulous in the way you moved, from your toes to your very fingertips, not one part of your body didn’t follow the melody that was played. Actually, it looked as if your body was the one directing the music. You not only captivated the crowd, but him.

His mouth fell slightly, taking a shallow breath as you spun gently, arms reaching for your nonexistent partner, and a small part of him hoped he would be the one to take your hand and continue this dance with you, before you pulled away and looked at the crowd with a charming grin and continued to dance.

It felt like hours, but only was a few minutes before your body smoothly came to a halt, and you bowed your head. An applause louder than the chimes of bells rang through the theatre as everyone began to stand.

You bewildered the crowd, a flurry of emotions ran through each and every one of them. Some felt pride and were impressed to see you dancing alone in such an upbeat and assured manner, while some felt it was wrong to do such a dance alone. But Luchino? He felt elated, even honoured to see such a dance, especially from someone like you.

He attempted to raise himself much like how everyone else did, and unfortunately, as he did so, he wasn’t able to see you on stage. No matter how hard he tried to peek over the crowd or look through the narrow gaps between their heads. All he saw was the ends of your dress disappearing behind the curtain.

It’s been months since he bore witness to your performance, and ever since then, he had been attending almost every week when he was certain you would perform, and he would be sure to have his seat close—but not too close, perhaps in fear that you may notice just how often he came.

He would hide within the crowd, look away when your eyes looked in his direction, and just as soon as your performance was finished, he would leave. You were the only reason he came.

It was the one source of relief and joy he was able to have in the midst of his stressful work environment that he had made for himself. You just couldn’t get out of his mind.

Even when he was working, the sounds of music that echoed down the streets would stop him, and he would imagine the way you moved to the beat, and slowly, these thoughts became self-indulgent—with him imaging how you would look dancing with him, how you would lead him across the stage with each step—but as time went on, these thoughts and scenarios weren’t enough anymore.

It was another night, another performance of yours in the theatre, and he noticed how more and more people flooded the environment with faint whispers of your performance. Your strange yet beautiful dance became the talk of the town, one that should certainly be seen. It irked him, he didn’t exactly know why, maybe because he felt they didn’t understand your dance the way he did, or didn’t feel the same admiration he did towards you. Either way, he didn’t care, he sat in his usual seat, impatiently fidgeting through the other performances before seeing your smiling face come on stage, and much like his other experiences, he relaxed at the sight of you, and returned a smile, one that he was sure you wouldn’t see.

But what separates this night from the rest was when he had the confidence to approach you. He didn’t plan for it to happen. In fact, he was supposed to leave along with the crowd as he typically did, but because so many people had attended, he had chosen to stay behind till most of them left so it was easier to get out.

What a wonderful mistake that was.

He noticed the quiet grunts of annoyance and huffs, his curiosity tugging at him to turn, and when he did, he saw you struggling to carry what appeared to be numerous bags and boxes of what he could assume were gifts.

Reluctantly, he offered to help you, and you gave him a smile, one that was unlike the smile you usually had on stage. It was softer—kinder—and goodness, did it twist his heart to see it.

His excitement only grew when he walked into your dressing room, which looked quaint and simple. He adored it. It was unlike what he imagined.

He was supposed to leave afterwards—but when you offered him tea, well, how could he refuse?

“Thank you, again, for helping me with the gifts,” he gave a stiff nod at your words, trying to settle himself in the couch cushions as he lifted the cup to his lips and took a quiet sip. The fragrant tea’s warmth blossomed in his chest as he glanced at you, who sat next to him, legs propped up sideways. Your eyes lingering on his before he looked away “It means quite a lot to me.”

“O-Of course,” his voice cracked slightly, clearing his throat instinctively and resting his cup in his lap, his palms growing warmer and warmer as he tightened his hold while attempting to brush off how he responded “It’s the least I could do, I can’t imagine how exhausted you must be after such an incredible performance.” He reasoned, his mind scrambling to pull himself together—he hadn’t prepared himself for what was happening. To be sitting here and conversing with you as if you were just a friend of his.

Luchino swallowed quietly when he heard you let out a curious hum, “You seem fond of my performance, Professor Diruse, I’m quite flattered that a renowned man such as yourself sees my performance as ‘incredible’.” You chuckled, and it only made Luchino tense more, clearing his throat yet again as his fingers twitched lightly against his cup. He could almost feel his tongue twisting at the sound of your voice.

How unfair it was for Lady Fate to give you not only the body of who he could only compare to was the gods and the voice of a siren. “Please, you needn’t address me with such formality, just Luchino is alright.” He replied, he swore you could hear the tremble in his voice. What was happening? The usually confident facade he has had never broken nor threatened to shatter, and yet here he was, trying desperately to appear just as relaxed and confident as you were. “And, renowned? I wouldn’t say that I am, really, you give me too much credit. I’m but a professor—“

“A professor of toxicology,” you interrupted, but he didn’t mind at all. In fact, he seemed more than shocked than anything that you knew what he did—his shoulders tensed under your gaze, and you only chuckled at his reaction. “Believe in what you want, but if you were to ask me, I’d say you aren’t simply a professor. Please, do give some credit to yourself. You are renowned for your research in venomous creatures.” You explained, and he could only grip his cup tighter.

“You—You know of my research…?”

“But of course! You piqued my interest the moment I heard talk of the peculiar yet kind-hearted professor who’s ‘lectures are driven with passion and wisdom’—and obviously, after hearing that, I wanted to know more about you. And when I heard that there were published articles and literature of your discoveries—well, I just had to purchase them.” You laughed quietly, taking a sip of your tea, but just before the rim of the cup rested on your lips, you eyed him with a sheepish grin “You could say that I am an avid reader of your works.”

He swore he could burst. The warmth now crawling on his cheeks and making it even more evident to you just how embarrassed he was to know that you enjoyed reading his work. He let out a string of stutters, along with small laughs as he looked at his cup, in some way, he hoped he could just dive in it and never be seen again. “I see, I’m honoured that you enjoyed them, I never would have thought that you would enjoy my work. Not many people are quite fond of toxicology, nor have they heard of it.” He attempted to explain his embarrassment as his finger traced the delicate design if the cup.

“That’s a shame. Such work is unrightfully underrated—people assume it’s boring knowledge but it’s anything but,” You sighed out, taking another sip of your tea and relaxing into the couch as Luchino was smiling to himself at your words. “The world is so fascinating, who would have thought that even a creature the size of your palm can have the ability to take down elephants?” You joked lightly, “If the world were not so judgemental, they would look past the—admittedly boring exterior of research and understand the importance of works such as yours. It provides people a sense clarity and caution—then maybe we would stop having so many unfortunate accidents from interacting with creatures such as frogs or tarantulas.” You mused, your eyes drifting to the window for a moment, watching the shadows of people that passed by before looking back at him, and he only smiled more under your gaze. It was refreshing to see a person other than a professor to be interested in his study.

“Speaking of understanding works—I wanted to ask you something, if you don’t mind,” he began, waiting for you to permit him to ask, and once you let out a hum, he continued “I am not as knowledgable in the art of dance as I am in toxicology, but I am aware that tango is typically performed with two people. Is there a reason as to why you dance alone?” His voice fell slightly when he heard you put your tea down the coffee table’s surface, his throat closing slightly “My apologies, I don’t mean to pry, I was just curious—“

“No need to panic, it’s alright,” you reassured him, a hand gently placed on his shoulder, he tensed under your touch once more, the tingling sensation remaining when you had moved your hand away “It’s only natural, after all. I couldn’t tell you how many times I’ve been asked that.” You sighed, looking towards the door with caution “I never answered them, however. They only ask to fill the newspapers with something interesting or to have another piece of gossip spread for the whole city to hear. But—I feel with you, I can give you an actual answer. Considering that you seem genuinely curious about it.” you drummed your fingers gently on your tight before tensely pinching the fabric, he felt honoured to hear you say you trust him, but it was overcome with a sense of pity at your words.

Silence only filled the room for but a moment before you began to speak, he was an observant man, he could tell that you were trying to sound as relaxed as you could, but there was an air of disappointment and shame laced in your words. “That dance—it was never meant to be a solo. I was supposed to dance with someone else, after years of performing in solely parties and bars for entertainment, we were finally offered a chance to perform at a theatre,” you breathed out a chuckle of disbelief “We orchestrated that dance for months, we wanted to impress the people the best we could—but—“ your shoulders trembled gently as you let out a shaky breath, “They had other plans. They ran away with someone else, but not without taking everything they had and leaving some ridiculous note saying they were done.” You scoffed lightly, oh how he wanted to hold your hand to comfort you, to wrap his arms around you and provide you some sense of ease. But he kept to himself.

You swallowed for a moment, “But, I’ve been waiting to perform in a theatre such as this ever since I was young, so I wasn’t going to just throw away my chance for someone who couldn’t give a damn about me. And so, I tweaked a few parts of the dance, and decided to perform solo.” You smiled at him, but it was one he couldn’t help but feel uncomfortable seeing, only because it wasn’t real nor was it gentle. It was strained. “Thankfully, Lady Fate was kind and it was received well. So, there’s that.”

“I’m sorry-“ He frowned, you only waved a careless hand in response, still holding that strained smile on your face.

“It’s fine. Life happens, right? Not everything comes easy.”

“No, I suppose it doesn’t,” he sighed, taking another sup of his tea, finally being aware of how hot his hands had become as he leaned against the cushions and rubbed his palms lightly. “It is a pity, though. I can’t help but wonder how much better your performance would be if you had a partner—“ he blurted out before tensing up, “N-Not that your performance isn’t good now, it’s just that—since your performance was incredible even as a solo, I can only imagine how much more amazing it would be if you performed it with someone.” He explained, fear bellowing inside of his chest, worried that you may take offence. But instead, you only snorted at his words.

“Please, don’t apologise! I also share the same thoughts,” you giggled, covering your mouth slightly to hide the amused smile on your face to spare him from ang more embarrassment. “It certainly would have been much nicer to dance with someone. As they say, it takes two to tango. Luckily, I believe I have found a possible dance partner.” You added lightly, he only laughed nervously as he rubbed the details of the cup.

“Ah, and who might that be?” He questioned, but he was met with silences when he turned to you, he only saw you with a knowing grin. His fingers gradually came to a halt as his thoughts began to scramble. “Y/N…?”

“Hm? You’re the professor here, surely you can figure it out?”

As your words finally began to click in his mind, his eyes had blown wide, his mouth agape as he began to stutter. “M-Me? No I—I couldn’t possibly! As I said earlier, I know nothing of the art of dance, especially tango—I couldn’t be your dance partner, I would only ruin everything—“

“Oh? I have to say, I’m a bit insulted,” you tutted, eyeing him up and down, his hands were trembling slightly from the excitement of being offered to dance with you but had also become more embarrassed, even a bit ashamed when he heard he had insulted you “I would think that after seeing—what? 36 of my performances, that you would at least know a few basic moves.”

Oh, you were going to kill him. He completely turned his body to face you, his cheeks may as well have been compared the pile of bright and luscious red roses that were settled upon your table. “You—How did you-“

“What? Did you think I wouldn’t notice my biggest fan? You sit in the same seat every performance! You think you’re so sly trying to hide from me in the crowd, but you greatly underestimated me.” You playfully booped his nose, watching him crumble under your touch as he tried to explain himself “No need to panic so much, I’m actually touched you find my performances so pleasant to watch.” You hummed, adjusting your legs and crossing them as you stared at the now flustered professor. “So, what do you say?”

Before he could answer, the two of you heard a loud voice from outside the door. “Y/N! It’s getting late! Are you going to stay in there all night or what?”

“I’ll be out in a few moments, no need to lose your head over it!” You answered, huffing as you stood up and dusted your dress lightly. Hearing the staff member grumble quietly and walk away, but not without warning you to hurry up. You rolled your eyes, turning to see Luchino who nervously stared up at you. “Thursday evening, 9pm, I’ll be waiting,” you leaned down slightly, “Luchino.” You breathed out, and he almost thought you would steal a kiss, hell, he thought he would!

Just the sight of the way the straps of your dress clumsily slid down your shoulders, the way your hair fell slightly, covering your eyes—but instead, you had leaned down to gently grab the forgotten teacup that laid on his lap and moved away, taking your own and leaving the now malfunctioning professor on your couch.

“I’d hurry if I were you, wouldn’t want to be locked in the theatre for the whole night!”

How embarrassed he was to find out that you knew the whole time—how did you first react seeing him again? Did you laugh? Did you feel shy? No, he couldn’t imagine you being shy.

Fuck, so all those times you looked at his direction, were you actually looking at solely him? He could combust at the thought.

He could barely sleep anymore without feeling the humiliation crawling on his back, even working didn’t distract him! He just found himself scribbling random thoughts!

He had bought a calendar so he could mark down the days till he had to see you. Even buying himself the nicest suit he could afford to impress you—every night, he stared at the calendar, eyeing the date that grew closer and closer.

When the time finally came, he awkwardly stood in front of the rehearsal he was guided to by one of the staff members, tugging at his collar as he cleared his throat a bit silently. Staring at the clock that hung on the wall.

The moment the hands of the clock landed on 10:30, he knocked on the door.

When you permitted him to enter, he wasn’t greeted with a ‘hello’ or ‘how are you?’, but with a sly smirk on your face as you teased out “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were just on time. But something tells me you were eagerly waiting by my door for a while.”

He was in for a world of teasing.

At first, he stumbled on his feet trying to follow your movements, both because of his inexperience and with just how much he was in disbelief that he was dancing with you, that you were placing your hands on his shoulders, his arms, his hands and gently leading him to dance. Feeling your body pressed against is, with soft whispers to guide his steps.

And if that didn’t embarrass him enough, you didn’t seem to cease on hour onslaught of teasing, in fact, it occurred more and more as you two danced across the rehearsal room.

But he didn’t mind.

As days became weeks, he moved smoother in his steps, he could mimic the flow of your movements and he seemed to be able to withstand a tad bit of your teasing comments by having the courage to return it back—oh how he adored that shocked expression of yours the first time he did so, and when you shyly looked away, he could feel his heart twist. The usually confident and poise dancer flustered before him? He certainly enjoyed it.

He grew confident enough to place his hand at your waist, to wrap his hand around yours, leading you across the rehearsal room and stealing glances your way, to which you only giggled quietly at and turned away.

He loved it all. How he lifted you in the air, he adored the shocked laugh you let out, the way your hands instinctively grasped onto his shoulders before letting go as you gradually trusted him. The way you ended up lifting him by surprise one time, and he could only burst into a fit of laughter and concern as he tried to pry away from your grasp.

What once were hands on his shoulders and arms, now became arms wrapped around his neck, abandoning your routine and simply swaying with him, pulling him close and pressing your forehead against his.

He had something to look forward to in the weeks to cone, and that was the time he spent with you—to dance with you, to hold you. It gave him a new light in his life, something to pour his passion into other than work.

He would watch your performance, only grinning to himself like a fool as he heard people rave about you, because he knew that he was chosen to dance with you. That he was the only one out of all of them who had the privilege to ‘perform’ with you. And when you turned his way, he felt pride in knowing that you were looking at him. And the smile that grew on your face after you looked his way only made his chest flutter more.

It was another one of those nights where he arrived at your rehearsal room, yet again, arriving ten minutes earlier. But it was different this time, no, this time, you suggested that you both do a new dance—which at first was usual, he always had to conform to the many dances you performed.

When he asked what he should do, you only shrugged lightly and told him “Just go with the flow, I’m sure you can manage, no?” You always did say that, that tango flowed like water, that you should follow the current rather than struggle against it or try to stand in it to understand. Otherwise, you’ll clumsily fall back in with no way to recover.

Luchino continued to stare at your rather calm features as you both gently swayed in the room, the dim light above mimicking your movements slightly and flickering every now and then. “Y/N?” You hummed in response, slowing your movements slightly as you turned to look at him. “May I ask you something?” He was always so polite, you thought, he asked you for everything, if dipping you was alright, if holding you this way was fine, if even asking you a question was okay. You only nodded, hands resting on his frame. “What are we doing? What made you suddenly want to choreograph a new dance?”

You eyed him for a moment, looking as if you were reluctant to answer before sighing “Luchino,” He loved the way you said his name “Tell me, what is the meaning of tango to you?”

He furrowed his eyebrows, almost halting in his step, but you had gently squeezed his hand, reminding him to move. His feet stumbled lightly as he continued to do so “Well,” he thought aloud, he knew you weren’t looking for a logical answer, it seemed a bit too strange to ask in a moment such as this “It is…an intimate dance between two people. Right?” He questioned, watching you laugh for a moment.

“You aren’t wrong, it is an intimate dance, but there is something that most people here seem to forget as society progresses,” the two of you spun slightly, the dance much more gentler than the ones you two have recently practiced in “Tango is a complex dance, it’s meaning has become more romanticised, but people forget it was born out of the people’s desire to find comfort and empathy—to express the longing for what they had left behind. Along with the lyrics of the songs, which usually holds sad tales of lost or unrequited love.” You breathed out, a sad smile on your face as you continued, “The dances we rehearsed together, that is what they are. Though they are quite different in comparison to what they originally were with my partner, they still came from them, from—what we were before. They were once a symbolism of our story, now reduced into nothing but a dance that resembled solitude and loss. A story of a lone dancer who, despite everything, continued to dance and smile for the people, living the dream they always wanted and yet—always felt as if a part of their heart had been missing.” You bitterly laughed, and he could only hold you closer as you did so, his hand that rested on your hip was now wrapped around your waist.

“The reason I wanted to do this was because I no longer want to dance to such melancholy tales, they are fragments of the past I wish to forget,” you looked at him, with certainty and fire in your eyes as your movements slightly quickened, your hands firmly wrapped around his. “I want to create a new dance with you, one that symbolises the beginning of our story—“ Luchino stared back at you, a breathless grin on his face as he restrained his excitement “that is, if you’ll have me?” You shakily added, a nervous smile returned to him as you stared at him with eagerness and anticipation.

He paused for a moment, a teasing expression on his face as he spun you. “Mmmm, a very interesting offer—“ you gave a slightly irritated pout, and he chuckled at the sight, please don’t be so mad at him, how could he not pass up the opportunity to tease you? “Of course, I’ll have you. What kind of question is that?” He watched as you let out a sigh of relief, a quiet giggle following it as the two of you continued to aimlessly sway with the faint music in the background. Arms now wrapped around one another in a tight embrace, one that he wished to have the moment he saw you walk on that stage.

It was silent for a few moments, the two of you indulging in each other’s presence before he noticed the way you moved. Though you were happy, incredibly so, he could tell that your thoughts of the past continued to linger—and he couldn’t blame you. In an effort to comfort you, he decided to do something he was sure to take your mind off it.

“Ah!—Luchino!-“ you yelped as he suddenly dipped you, your hair brushing on the surface of the floor, your legs flailing a bit as you struggled to touch the ground, arms wrapped around his neck tightly as you snorted loudly “You can’t just do that!— At least warn me!”

“Hah! And why would I do that?” He questioned, a mischievous smirk on his face as he pulled you up, his movements becoming more energetic as he led you across the room, a bounce in his step as he watched you attempt to follow him. “You always spoke of how easy it was to just ‘go with the flow’, let’s see if you practice what you preach!” He chortled, lifting you up suddenly and watching you squeal in surprise.

“You damn tease!—you are so in for it—hey!” You shrieked, laughter spilling out as he tightly wrapped his arms around your waist, spinning the two of you around as he buried his face in your neck, littering your bare shoulder with kisses and laughing as you wriggled in his grasp, hands trying to dig into his sides to tickle him back. “Pfff—w-wait! Th-This isn’t fair—We-We’ll fall if you keep this up!!” You continued to laugh as you felt him smirk against your skin, it was clear he was ignoring your concerns.

Your fits of laughter began to die down as you felt soft kisses gradually make their way to the underside of your jaw, to your cheek, to the very corner of your lips before nuzzling his nose against yours. A heavy breath escaping your lips as you weakly grinned at him, “Would it be alright if I-“

“Oh for the love of—Just kiss me already—“ you didn’t need to say more, he locked his lips against yours, you both laughed against one another. It felt as though every ounce of love and admiration you held for him over the months you’ve known each other had been poured into one simple kiss, and he returned it tenfold. And when the both of you finally pulled away, he nearly melted at the sight of your smile, one that he would certainly say was as bright as the stars and the sun above.

Immediately, he began to move with you across the floor, his excitement pumping through his veins as he danced with you, “Luchino!—Not so fast!—“ you squealed, scrambling to pick up the pace and attempt to regain some control in the dance.

Laughter echoed through the room, and even the hallways as you spent the rest of the night dancing, together.

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