On The Wrestling To Grinding W/ Best Friend Kyo, Your Head Resting On His Forearm As He's Leaning On

࿐ ࿔*:･ﾟ do you see (him) in the back of your mind? (read on ao3)

word count: 2k

tags: fluff, angst if you squint, mentions of his myth, dragon!sylus mentions

summary: on a particular day, you kept dreaming of him. One of those dreams catches your attention—horns, tails and all, and you decide to tell him.

a/n: some practice sylus writing because he's my second fav 🖤

You kept staring at him unabashedly, entranced.

He found that behavior amusing, finding and matching your gaze with an insufferable amount of mirth in his eyes. A teasing remark, a half grin on his lips—anything to get a blush out of you. That time, however, his words turned to mist on your brain as you took him in. You knew him well; the way his eyes glimmered under the moonlight, how his lips savoured every drop of his drink, as if trying to classify each note of flavor of it, and even the way his hair moved with the cold breeze. Sometimes you’d run a gentle finger, making way through the handsome shape of his nose, only stopping when he’d let out a scoff and grab your wrist, playfully.

“What are you doing, sweetie?” He stared back, a smirk gracing his sharp features.

You blinked, resting your head on your hand. You had agreed to have dinner (breakfast, for him) on his base before heading out for one of your assignments. This particular mission required pulling an all-nighter onto the outskirts of the N109 Zone. You didn’t particularly need to convince him, he just shrugged and nodded as if you’d asked him to go get something for you at the corner store, a small, non-inconvenient errand on his criminal routine. 

So you spent the entire daylight sleeping, trying to catch up on some required rest before going into battle. Sleeping during daytime usually meant naps, which is why you had a hard time staying asleep, waking up between forty minute intervals.

Each time, a stranger dream.

It had started with a regular one, just you and Sylus going auctioning. Then, fleeting dreams that resembled your first meetings, the oppressive force of the gunshot piercing his heart, his rough hand grasping your wrist like his life depended on it, forceful mannerisms that had quite actually scared you away from him, enticing you into running away and never looking back. 

And finally, a dream so foreign and out of place it took you a minute to break the barrier between dreams and reality upon waking up. How imposing, how impossibly handsome; your Sylus, tall and intimidating, sporting two wonderful spires on his head, and a long, thick, slithering barbed tail from his lower back. Scales had adorned his entire body, ebony and rough, and a single ruby emanated glow and warmth from his sternum, at the rhythm of a living heartbeat. His face was covered in blood—not yours, not his—as he stared at the glowing moon in longing and awe.

And still, in this dream, his eyes turned soft at the sight of you.

You gave him a warm smile, now back to reality to the real Sylus in front of you. “I dreamed about you earlier.”

He returned the smile, a glint of something playful and kind in his crimson eyes. “Was it a good dream?”

“Mhm.” You nodded, pondering. “It was quite the sight.”

“Tell me.”

“You’d laugh.”

He shifted on his seat, putting the fork down as he took a breath. Sylus tilted his head, the smile never wiping off his face, the now dying candlelight casting a warm, soft glow around you. “Oh?” 

You immediately shook your head, a slight blush adorning your cheeks, frowning. “Not like that. Ugh.” At least not this time.

The gentle sound of one of his classical vinyls cocooned the warm atmosphere of his dinner table, the melody one you had picked out a few weeks before, shopping with him. It was so effortlessly romantic, soft and tender—truth be told, so many dinners with Sylus were like that, and you started wondering how truly effortless or accidental it all was. It seemed so specifically tailored for you; the music, the special serving of food just for you, the way the moonlight would hit the table just right, the smooth silk tablecloths, the comfy cushions on the seats; it all screamed soft, soft, soft , as if he was self conscious you'd walk away again the moment you cut yourself on his edges. You'd grown to love him, gunshot powder and all, but something laid unspoken between you two. Something both of you should be aware of, but only him seemed to carry the weight of.

It stumped you.

Sylus let out a chuckle. “Well, then. I promise to be as straight faced as possible, kitten.”

“Not very comforting.”

He shrugged. “I'm simply doing my best.”

You inhaled, trying to recall more details about the dream. You grabbed a grape, placing it on your lips, letting it linger there for a moment before slowly biting down on it, staring into space. As you swallowed, you looked up briefly at the ceiling and finally spoke.

“ If you randomly woke up as an animal, real or fantastic—and don't say a crow—what animal do you think it would most likely be?”

One of his eyebrows raised in amusement, his smirk deepening. The candle was holding onto the last thread of light, the amber light surrounding the room slowly giving out. It gave the atmosphere an enigmatic mood, making the situation seem so serious it was silly. “Does that have to do with your dream?"

You rolled your eyes. “Just follow along.”

His gaze never left yours, carefully studying your expectant expression. He took out a casino chip out of his slacks and started playing with it, a fidgeting you immediately recognized as calculating and weighting every option on his mind, you realized he was holding back on answering what was truly on his head. 

You looked around the room, almost awkwardly, as the silence stretched on. “Hello?”

Sylus finally let out a scoff. “I'm more interested in what you thi—”

“Oh, fuck off.”

“What? I'm telling the truth. Besides,” he leaned towards you ever-so-slightly. “I'm curious what brought this on.”

The candlelight went off completely, the only source of light being the moon gently cascading its glow on the room. You went to grab another grape, but stopped halfway through. Despite his aloof and seemingly playful behavior, you couldn't help but feel as if that question had held some unspoken weight on him. 

You laid back completely on the chair, staring out at the moon. “I had a dream you were some kind of creature. Horns, tail, scales—no wings that I remember, though. It was incredibly detailed. You looked like a dragon.” You took a deep breath, and almost whispering, still daydreaming about the mental image, you spoke: “It suit you.”

He didn't reply, not immediately, the chip on his hand ceasing its movements for a moment. A brief hesitation, a glimmer of something in his eyes (melancholy? Nostalgia?) flashed, but it was gone in an instant, replaced by a half smile. He put the chip down and slid it towards you, taking a deep breath, beckoning you to keep going.

“We rested in a cave. Just like now, we were staring at the moon, and your tail—” You giggled fondly. “It was wrapped around me. Not asphyxiating me, mind you, but gently. And warm. It felt so real.”

You paused, and then continued.

“I wonder if that was some sort of…past life, or something.”

The room was completely darkened, and he had moved away from the glow of the moonlight, making it difficult to figure out what he was thinking. As the silence stretched on, you couldn't help but feel self-conscious — you'd half expected him to let out one of his earthy laughs upon hearing it. How cliché, how passè, the classical bedtime story of the beauty and her beast, deeply in love in his lair, a wonderful ever after following trials of blood and fire to be together. You've been watching too many romantic movies lately, sweetie , was the reply you expected him to blurt out, and then you'd pout, and finally go out to your mission and fight wanderers until the sun rose.

But he seemed to savor the recounting of your dream, as if taking apart thread by thread the tapestry of your words. You wondered what expression he had at that moment. Maybe he was coming out with a witty retort, something you've never heard before, or maybe he was annoyed at the prospect of him being a beast in the dream (when he'd been nothing but gentle with you lately), or maybe—

He let out a gentle chuckle, forcing you out of your thoughts. You stared at him, trying to find his eyes, until you met with a slightly glowing crimson gaze in the dark. A sign of danger, a pair of red eyes in the abyss—but they held none of the teeth that would swallow you whole. Instead, it enveloped you in a warmth that reminded you of cozy winter dawns, of summer nights, of a hot cup of tea after a draining day. 

How wonderful.

Sylus shifted on his seat. “Did something else happen in that dream?”

“Such as…?”

“We’ve watched one too many dramatic movies lately. Surely this one dream doesn't end in tragedy, likewise?”

You tutted, blushing, muttering. “Isn't the prospect of us cuddling under the moonlight enough for you?”

“With a monster —”

“A very handsome one.” You interjected. “And he is nothing but gentle with me.”

A pause of silence. Then, after staring deep into your eyes, as if attempting to break open your mind and peer into your jumbled thoughts, he let out a warm, almost elated laugh. 

“You do…have a fascinating way to look at things.” He spoke.

As if wanting to emphasize your earlier point, you stood up from the table and carefully walked towards him, two dinner knives in hand, and positioned yourself behind him. On the other side of the room, a body length mirror stood guard to the dark outlines of your bodies contrasting in the gentle glow of the moon.

The knives reflected the silvery light almost magically as you held them up the sides of his head in a horned fashion, a playful yet tender smile adorning your lips.

“You looked something like this.” You whispered, staring into the mirror. If you squinted hard enough, his silhouette looked very similar to the Sylus that had graced your dreams. “See? It looks good. It does suit you.”

He chuckled, his voice laced with something raw and unspoken. He gently grabbed your wrist, enveloping his calloused fingers around your soft flesh, as if counting every pulse under it. His digits interlaced with yours and he maneuvered you until you were at his side—then, he slid an arm around your waist and pressed you closer to him, his face burying on your sternum, something resembling a purr coming out of his throat. It made you freeze for a single second, the movement and the warmth so eerily similar to the one provided by his tail in your dream you wondered if you'd truly been the only one to dream about it.

“No tail. Is that alright?” He muttered, his voice muffled by your shirt. 

You shrugged. “Warm all the same.”

Something inside him opened at the sound of your words, and he let out a content, satisfied sigh. You could feel him smile against the fabric of your clothes, and under normal circumstances you'd tease him about it. Yet this time, he felt oddly vulnerable—like a cat bunting a beloved; it was not the time. You couldn't rob him of that.

“Let's go.” He broke the moment, pulling away. “It's getting late.”

He stood up, his arm leaving your waist—lingering for a fraction of a second, not truly wanting to pull away—and walked to the doorway with languid steps, taking his coat from the hanger.

“Does that mean I can call you that now?” You asked grabbing a last grape out of the fruitbowl.

“What was that now, kitten?”

“Dragon.” You smiled mischievously. “My dragon.”

He turned around, briefly speechless, and for a moment you feared you'd said something wrong—maybe he hated the nickname, or thought it was too silly, or preferred something else. But then his lips curved upwards, his gaze impossibly soft and cozy.

“If it's from you,” he reached for the motorcycle helmet and tossed it at you. “Any time.”

okie here we go! may i please request a jonathan crane imagine where he and reader are talking about their fears and reader says something like "i'm afraid of falling in love with you" and now jonathan is like well heck i wasn't expecting that. feel free to change as you need! thank you!

Ofc! Sorry if this isn’t good :( I was rlly nervous and scared for my first tumblr imagine. Anyways I did my best and hope you like it!!

Jonathan Crane

Unexpected

Warnings: Fears, anxiety, things made up by me (I think) that’s its?

Summary: The request!

Type: ☁︎

A/N: Y’all it’s 2:00am sorry if this this is crap but I’m trying😭

•-•

You were in a apartment near the heart of Gotham City with your longtime friend, Jonathan Crane. Yes he was one of Gotham’s biggest criminal... but you loved being with him. You both knew each other for almost 10 years. Crazy right? Now here you were, in your (actually pretty nice) apartment with Jonathan, sitting on the bed together talking about each other.

“What? No you said your favorite color was purple?!” Jonathan protested.

“It was always red!” I answered back

“Hmm... whatever you say then,” he said smiling at you.

“Hey N/N,” he said.

“Yes Johnny,” I said teasing him.

“Please don’t start with that,” he said playfully annoyed.

“Alright, alright. What is it,” I asked him.

“What is your most greatest fear,” he asked curiously.

Out of all the questions in the world it just had to be the lucky number one, huh? I can just lie... but I’m pretty positive that he’ll know when I’m lying. I mean, he’s caught it before. What makes me think he won’t do it this time?

“Earth to Y/N,” he spoke waving a hand in front of my face making me snap out of my thoughts.

“Hmm? Oh yeah sorry,” I said trying to make myself seem completely focused on him.

“You haven’t answered the question.”

“Oh umm... I don’t have a fear,” I said trying to convince him.

“Your lying and I know it. Why?” he asked me in confusion. I didn’t want him to think I didn’t trust him. I just didn’t want to make myself feel like an idiot.

“Can’t we just skip that question, please?” I asked him softly.

“I- you don’t trust me? Y/N please I won’t make fun of you for anything at all...” he pleaded.

I sighed looking away for a moment then looking back into his eyes. I could see the concern of why I was so afraid to tell him. I was to scared to ruin our relationship.

“Your afraid of me... I knew it,” he said sounding ashamed of himself.

“Wait what? No no no no no no, it’s not you I promise. Scare- wait sorry! I mean Jonathan! No please don’t think that...! I’m so sorry...” I said freaking out a little and putting both of my hands over my nose and mouth. Now he’s gonna think the opposite of what I just said.

“If it’s not me then what is it?” He said sounding quite annoyed.

“I’m just- I’m afraid of falling in love with you...”

Oh my goodness why did I say that? He’s going to think I’m some sort of psychopath!

“I... y/n...” he started.

“No please it’s fine, my fault, I should of never said that at all,” I said about to leave.

“Beautiful, I had loved you since forever ago. Your features and personality are like no other life-form in this universe. You don’t know how long I’ve been waiting for this moment. I love you, so much.”

Wow I wasn’t expecting that at all.

He pulled me into his embrace, wrapping his arms around me. He planted a soft kiss on my forehead.

“I love you Johnathan,” I said softly against the crook of his neck.

“And I love you even more.”

Stoic

When Gojo assumes Nanami Kento's lack of PDA for the reader shows a lack of desire for her, a tipsy Kento is quick to correct him.

Warnings: 18+ drabble, Kento goes on a smutty rant

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'A quick drink' after work had soon turned into two, three, four. Shoko took full advantage of the rooftop bar's balcony, smoking and idly chatting; Higuruma and Atsuya gossipped and quipped, snorting into their drinks; Satoru observed Kento and you keenly behind his dark lens; you stood, excusing yourself to the bathroom as Kento gave you a gentle smile.

"I'm sorry," Satoru interrupted loudly when you were gone, his pot boiling over, "I just-- I just don't get it, Nanami." All eyes were on Satoru and Kento now-- Kento, with one thin eyebrow raised in quiet disdain at Satoru, and Satoru, with his elbows planted forward on his knees in challenge.

A few moments of silence. Kento huffed, "Should I be apologising for someth--"

"--you've been together for years," Satoru interrupted, "and I'm just not convinced. She could be-- she could be a coat rack for all the affection you show her, you're supposed to not be able to keep your hands off her--"

"--you want me to grope my fiancée in public, am I correct--"

"--well maybe, anything to show that you love her--"

Kento laughed out loud, deep and humourless, continuing to chuckle into his glass, scoffing to himself; "Love her," he rumbled, swirling his whiskey, amber eyes flickering and carnal in the firelight.

Shoko had turned, smirking, to watch the scene. Atsuya leaned back, scowling, chewing on a toothpick with crossed arms. Hiromi leaned, glimmer-eyed, into the drama, one hand cupping his jaw and the other clasping his wineglass. He picked up the bottle, slowly beginning to pour another glass.

"I don't love her," Kento spat, downing his glass of whiskey in one smooth swallow, hissing and slamming the glass down on the table, "I worship her. I'm obsessed with her."

Satoru was silent, mulish, as Kento continued.

"I would walk through rains of bullets for her," he mused aloud, "I would cut off fingers with blunt knives--"

"Nanami, alright, I'm sorry--"

"Any second I'm not with her," Kento continued, his voice quieter, darker, the group leaning into him, "is a second wasted. I don't know what point there was in the years I spent without her-- probably just there to build me into even a semblance of the man she deserves--"

"--why are we doing this--"

"-- and when I'm not thinking about talking to her, watching her, being near her, holding her, or-- fuck, just having her look at me goes bone-deep...I spend at least eighty-percent of my time thinking about different ways to make her cum--"

Satoru was blushing now, his face in his hands, while the others leaned into Kento's mild breakdown with awe, "--fucking hell Nanami, I didn't mean--"

"I almost died last week, at work," Kento mused, as a laughing Hiromi slid the glass of wine down the table to Kento, which he caught seamlessly, "because I was too busy thinking about how her mouth had felt around my cock the night before, because I was pondering the many applications for my tie, because I was thinking about how incredible she felt underneath me--"

Atsuya and Shoko whispered together, Hiromi now giggling to himself unashamedly; "Oh he's really going for it--" "I know I know, shhh, let him finish--"

"--and I've been sat here with her all evening, resisting the urge to strip her, tie her wrists together and have her ride me until I go fucking blind, all because of social-fucking-propriety, just for some long streak of jizz like you to say I clearly don't love her--"

Satoru had shrunk in on himself now, his soul quietly leaving his body, mortified and put to rights as Kento tsked, swirling his wine before downing that, too. He accepted the bottle Hiromi slid towards him in approval.

"...it really just is rather rude and presumptuous of you, isn't it, Gojo?"

The group sat in stunned silence as you returned, sitting beside Kento and laying a hand on his crossed knees. You felt the bizarre tension; Hiromi unable to conceal a blush as he looked at you, Shoko giving you a knowing smile around her cigarette, Atsuya unable to make eye contact. You smiled uncertainly.

"...what did I miss?"

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Still waters run deep 💀💀💀

𝗰𝗼𝗰𝗸𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗺𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗟 𝗟𝗮𝘄𝗹𝗶𝗲𝘁 𝗡𝗦𝗙𝗪

𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆: trying to get attention from L was extremely difficult when he was working but there was always one way to get what you want

𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀: smut-ish, cockwarming, slight praise, slight degradation, fluff

• request by anon: Hey there! I absolutely adored your L NSFW hcs! May I request some NSFW thoughts about cockwarming L while he’s busy?

• Cockwarming is one of his favourite past times with you

• Since he doesn’t have a high sex drive he enjoys it as it lets him be close to you without having to actually have sex

• He especially enjoys it when you cockwarm him while he’s working

Keep reading

A jealous scenario with Kyo. Sen is just so cute & precious that you can’t help but baby him. The pillars joke to Kyo “Ooo... you got competition!” 😂 thank you keep it up

Oooh this was cute, bby. Hope you like it! 😌❤️‍🔥

Kyōjurō x F!S/O: Competition (Fluff, SFW Scenario)

Note: This will be set during the Pillar Training Arc, where Kyō will be alive and well enough to take part in it.

***

Days off were extremely rare for the lower ranking slayers attending the Hashira training camps, and it was even rarer for all the Hashira whom were conducting all the training. And when they did all have mercy on their subordinates, they all gathered together to train with each other.

After all, they were all humble enough to realize that their own techniques still needed to be honed. And what better way to get critique than to be surrounded by other people who were better in the things that they were bad at?

So, that was how the nine Hashira found themselves gathered together at the Rengoku estate; all taking a breather after getting done with their own sparring sessions.

Shinobu, Muichiro, Gyōmei, and Mitsuri were casually sitting on the engawa to recuperate in the shade, while the rest— Sanemi, Giyuu, Uzui, and Kyōjurō— all laid on the ground. They were all so breathless, and all so tired, but still held smiles on their faces.

Save for Giyuu, as usual. But there was a lighter aura that surrounded him, which had the others making an effort to include them within their fold.

Meanwhile, in the kitchen, (Y/n) and Senjurō were busy trying to finish up plating all of the snacks that they had prepared for the afternoon.

“So how does it feel to be a married man, Rengoku?” Uzui asked with a teasing grin, which Kyōjurō easily returned with an enthusiastic one.

“It’s great! Better than I could have ever imagined! And my wife’s the best; just last night she made my favorite!” The blond practically bellowed, before tacking it off with a boisterous laugh that had the other men around him wincing a little at how loud he was.

However, the moment that the shoji slid open to reveal both (Y/n) and Senjurō, all the men’s eyes turned towards them both. Most looking at the snacks they had, and Kyōjurō looking right at his wife for the sole reason of admiring her beauty.

He even had to muffle a contented and smitten sigh; which must have failed, since he caught Uzui and Sanemi scoffing at his lovestruck reaction.

“I can see why you’re so smitten with her,” Sanemi began gruffly, which Uzui took as his cue to add on to the building fire that was guaranteed to mess with the Flame Hashira.

“But you might have some competition right there; not as her husband, but the cutest thing to her.”

Kyōjurō’s eyebrows furrowed at the Sound Hashira’s words, eyes briefly darting over to him and seeing him subtly nod his head back towards (Y/n).

So, he turned his attention to her and had to bite down on his tongue to keep himself from making a horrified expression. Since she and Senjurō were giving the other Hashira their snacks, and she had reached over to cup Senjurō’s cheek before pinching it slightly.

And, much to his jealousy, she even said, “You’re the cutest, Senjurō. Such a sweet boy.”

Those particular lines had Sanemi and Uzui internally laughing, especially when they saw the ill-concealed jealousy on the blond’s face.

“You might be her husband, but you’re not cute to her. A travesty, really.” Uzui stretched the teasing out, even making a show of shaking his head right at Kyōjurō.

“No. I’m the cutest to my wife.” The blond muttered under his breath; his expression going from bothered to pouting, which just looked plain out childish on him.

Especially since he was only feeding right into Sanemi’s and Uzui’s teasing. All the while, Giyuu was only focused on the tray of food and drinks that Senjurō was bringing over to them.

“Thank you, Senjurō, but where’s (Y/n) going?” Kyōjurō asked— clearly confused by his wife going back into the house. “Is there anything she needs help with?”

“Nee-san just had to get some more sugar for our tea, and she said that you’re all welcome to join us on the engawa, ani-ue.” The younger Rengoku chirped, looking almost too adorable.

And it made the jealousy inside Kyōjurō flare up even more; since he wanted to be the only one that his wife loved the most— no matter if it was so childish of him.

Still, he wanted to save face in front of all the other Hashira; so he stayed put where he was and thanked Senjurō for the snacks and tea. All the while, he kept glancing up to sneak peeks over at his wife and his younger brother joking around and being so cute together.

So, the jealousy within him turned up even more— up to a palpable amount that even Giyuu was interested in how Uzui’s and Sanemi’s goading from earlier would pan out.

“Looks like you have some competition, Rengoku,” Sanemi stated with a slight smile; merely expecting the other Hashira to brush his teasing remark off.

Nobody expected Kyōjurō to practically shove his half-eaten rice ball at Uzui, before getting up and marching towards his wife.

“Oh, Kyō, would you like to join us?” (Y/n) asked with that breathtaking smile of hers, making the Flame Hashira momentarily dumbstruck. Before he plopped himself down next to her and wrapped his arms around her waist.

Of course it made (Y/n)’s face burn red with embarrassment— as she was surrounded by all the high ranking members of the Slayer Corps; and there was her husband, acting so adorably possessive.

Especially when he bit down on her clothed shoulder, before mouthing, “Mine.”

“I... uh... yes, Kyō. I’m yours.”

“And I’m the cutest.” The blond huffed under his breath, which had (Y/n) holding back a flustered and confused giggle. Still, she raised her free hand up and used it to cup her husband’s cheek.

“Yes, Kyō. You’re the cutest.”

“You promise?”

“I promise. Now, what brought this on?”

“Nothing. I just want to be the cutest for you, because you’re the cutest for me.” That statement alone was enough to make (Y/n) want to melt. Thankfully, that wasn’t physically possible; especially when Kyōjurō nipped at her shoulder once more. “Mine.”

Picking out a pumpkin and making jack o'lanterns with Professor Crane and Jervis Tetch from BTAS?

BTAS!Jonathan Crane + Making Jack-O-Lantern HCs:

When it comes to picking out a pumpkin, Jon has a procedure that he goes by in order to pick out the best ones. It’s kind of funny, watching him walk around and appraise a bunch of pumpkins so seriously.

He’s almost a pro at it. His cutting skills are very precise, but he can go a little nuts when it comes to the “gutting” part. There are pumpkin guts everywhere. Jon, please calm down it’s just a pumpkin--

No two of his pumpkins ever share the same design. They all have varied, unique expressions, and he likes to leave them scattered all over his yard/hide-out. The only downside is when they start to rot.

BTAS!Jervis Tetch + Making Jack-O-Lantern HCs:

Pre-Hatter days, Jervis would usually just buy the plastic, fake jack-o-lantern decorations to keep around for a little while, until they’d eventually end up in the back of his closet ‘til next Halloween.

He’s not very well-versed in the ways of pumpkin picking. He just goes for the one that looks the most...pumpkin-y. But really, he’ll buy whichever pumpkin(s) you want, as long as you’re having a good time.

He tries to be careful with the cutting, but he hasn’t had much practice with the pumpkin scissors before, so they end up a little messy. Same with the guts, but at least you get a pie out of it!

Hi flamey! I love how much you love Kyojuro because same.

Do you think he has any sexual quirks? Like a habit or anything unusual he does during sex?

He definitely has habits!

Like how he kisses you constantly throughout. The only time his lips get to rest are the few seconds he takes to shift positions, otherwise they're locked on you; your lips, your neck, chest, palm of your hand, wrist, inner thigh...

And the way he checks in, no matter your dynamic with him. Like this? Does that feel good? Am I doing right? Am I doing well for you?

Or how during the throes of his orgasm he winds his arms tight around you and holds you as close as he can, pressing his face into your shoulder. He just wants to be near to you.

And then he thanks you, every time, without fail, all sleepy and rosy-cheeked, soft and warm as he gazes at you through half-closed golden eyes.

Aight this is for my friend cuz she loves L (I mean I do too but this is her request) and doesn't have Tumblr.

So, headcanons for this kind of situation?: The reader is a café waitress and so one day L decides to get sweets himself and orders from the reader. He decides to come back everyday to the café for the sweets and because he liked the waitress. So like as he visits everyday he starts to get a crush on the reader and the reader with him if that makes sense. Eventually he asks out?

bye bc i absolutely adore this idea 🥺 thank you so much for this request, and i hope both you and your friend like this! <3

so we ALL know l loves his sweets

one day he asks watari to bring him some after a long while of working, to which watari replies that they've run out

so l is like "okay" and decides to take matters into his own hands

he's not too afraid to go out in public without any kind of disguise or protection, as he always keeps his identity hidden while working as l

he wastes no time in pulling on a pair of sneakers and waltzing out, trying to find a good place to buy himself more treats

after a while of looking, he finally comes across this cute little café

which just so happens to be the very café that you work in!

so he walks in there while you're working the register

he sees you and he's literally like "oh my god"

there's something about you that makes him feel just... weird

not like a bad weird though! he feels his heart skip a beat and his stomach suddenly start churning

it's an odd feeling for him, but he likes it????

he doesn't really know what to think; all he can do is just ogle at you

he can't get enough of you, and he hasn't even spoken to you yet

so finally l gets over himself and shuffles up to the counter

you notice him and you flash him a warm smile

"hello! what can i get for you today?"

if you look into his brain at this moment, all it would be is the windows error screen LMAO

l is able to keep up a decent front as he quickly spouts off the names of some cakes and pies and such, but right now he's more interested in the pretty person in front of him rather than the sweets

before he knows it, you're ringing up his items and handing him his food

he's well aware that this is his cue to leave, but he just doesn't want to

something about you makes him want to stay. he just finds you interesting, is all

so he takes the stuff and he goes back to his hotel, but he can't stop thinking about that pretty cashier

so fast forward to the next day, and l is like "screw it" and decides to go back to see you again

luckily for him, you're there! he couldn't be more excited :D

he's definitely not one of those people whose face you'd see in a crowd one day and just totally forget about. he's got a certain air about him, this little quirky charm, so obviously you recognize him

"hello again! i did see you yesterday, didn't i?"

"uh, yes. yes you did."

"see, i knew i recognized you! you back for more sweets?"

"mhm. do you have anything strawberry flavored, by any chance?"

l's already an introvert, but he can feel himself getting shyer the longer he's near you

he's very well aware that he's an awkward kind of guy, but you manage to get him all flustered in a way he's never been before

as you ring up the items he'd ordered, he attempts to make small talk with you

"the weather's nice today."

"you think so? it's been really rainy and gloomy."

"i like the rain."

"oh yeah! nothing wrong with the rain. it can be quite nice."

when you hand him the bag of stuff, you're about to wish him farewell before he randomly says, "oh, by the way, what's your name?"

"it's (y/n)!" you tell him, gesturing to the name tag on your shirt. "yours?"

"oh, it's ryuzaki."

(as interested as he is in you, he's not about to just give himself away as l like that)

"i like that name! well, ryuzaki, i hope you have a good day! and come back soon!"

"i will, thank you."

you didn't expect him to actually take 'soon' so literally, as the next day he's back again

and the day after that

you get the gist

l always comes in at around 6 or 7 in the evening when business is slow so you have more of a chance to talk to him

the more he comes in, the more comfortable he grows around you.

talking about each other's day, sharing funny stories, getting to know each other- it's really nice! and you always look forward to seeing him come in, because you always have a blast hanging out with him

as time goes on, l only falls harder for you. your smile, the way your hair perfectly frames your beautiful face, the way you laugh every time he makes an attempt to crack a joke... he loves it

unbeknownst to him, you've caught feelings as well. you've already grown to be feel comfortable in his company, but the more you get to know him, the more you realize that omg this guy's the cutest

finally, one evening he comes in, but he looks way more anxious than normal

"ryuzaki! hey, you doing okay? you seem kinda... i don't know. off. did something happen?"

"no, no. nothing happened. i just- i have something i want to tell you."

"hmm? what is it?"

"well, you see, i... i've been thinking about you a lot. i quite enjoy visiting you and talking to you, and i think you're one of the most interesting people i've met. i like being with you, so i was wondering if you would like to, um, spend more time together outside of your work. like a date. but only if you're comfortable with it."

at this, you're literally over the moon

"i'd really like that, ryuzaki! i get off work early tomorrow; would you be down to grab some dinner with me?"

l flashes you his signature tiny smile, the one you've grown to know and love over this past while

"yes. i'd like that, (y/n). i'd like it very much."

❤️🧡💛

𝕗𝕦𝕝𝕝 𝕚𝕞𝕞𝕖𝕣𝕤𝕚𝕠𝕟;

summary: bertholdt loved his new little toy -- the highest tech available on the market, a brand new innovative VR set that fully taps into your senses, bringing you into whatever fantasy world you desired. the best part? the cute girl on his friends list that he just couldn't get out of his head.

pairing: bertholdt hoover x f!reader

warnings: smut, online relationship, meeting in person!, virginity loss, unprotected sex, slight praise, fluffiness, friends to lovers, partly takes place in a virtual fantasy setting

notes: heyo!! here's a little piece i loved writing, for the lovely @tadokorochann, who has the best fucking ideas i can't even deal <3 stay lovely, i hope you enjoy!!

Work had never felt so long, Bertholdt thought to himself as he eyed the little clock on his car radio. In just under an hour, he'd be ready to jump into his favorite hobby and spend time with his favorite person. It was the perfect set-up for blowing off steam. The shit day answering calls and dealing with angry customers weighed on his shoulders heavily, but none of that would matter once he was home.

He scarfed down an unimpressive dinner. He showered, even fixed his hair to be presentable despite the fact that nobody would even see it -- perhaps it was a slightly nervous habit, but it didn't matter -- Bertholdt was ready to see you.

Even if it wasn't... you, exactly, it still was, in a way.

A familiar melody chimed in his ear upon donning the headset. Swirls of color lifted to life in front of his eyes, bright and harmonious. Bertholdt relaxed back into his aging gaming chair and let the giddy smile consume his face.

Everyone needs a hobby, right? Something to fill the void. Bertholdt certainly did, when he ordered the newest VR set on the market almost a year ago. The tech was groundbreaking; fully immersive like nothing else before it, and all-encompassing to the senses. It was really something amazing to experience (even if it burned a pretty little hole in his wallet) and quickly became part of his nightly ritual, keeping him up way longer than his body appreciated.

The biggest and most popular game available for such new technology enraptured him immediately: Planes of Eldia, a high-fantasy MMORPG that plopped you right in the middle of a massive world filled to the brim with strange creatures, breathtaking scenery, and, of course, no shortage of players to aid or hinder your journey.

It was his first week of playing when he met you.

Bertholdt wandered himself around the cute, quaint village his avatar lived in, eventually picking up a little fetch-quest from the inn-keeper to go collect some rare mushroom that only grows in a certain cave outside of town. He figured it'd be easy enough. Such missions were standard fare for the fantasy games he was accustomed to.

Lush grass licked at his calves as he walked, cool and dewy against the thin fabric of his low-level gear. He could hear birds chirping in the trees; a river running not far away; the coo and caw of mythical creatures that made these kinds of woods their home. Bertholdt eyed the barely noticeable gap in the tree line up ahead. He was closing in on his destination.

Traversing the forest had been too calm. Palm-sized, scaly beasts bawked and took flight if he drew too near. Fuzzy mouse-like creatures scurried themselves up the trees to avoid his booted feet. Nothing even spared him a glance as he passed by, weaving his way between impossibly tall trees until the thick of it finally broke into a rather bare clearing. The grass was dotted sparsely with tiny pastel flowers. It led like a trail up to a dark, eerie crack skirting along the side of the mountain before him. Bertholdt eyed the scene. He took in a deep breath, savoring the smell of the ocean not far away, reeling at the way the wind brushed at his hair and nipped his cheeks.

He figured it'd be easy enough, but he quickly realized he was out of his element -- quite literally. Right as his fingers brushed along the thin cave mouth, a flurry of tiny, winged creatures burst from the darkness in a powerful stream, knocking his avatar back on his ass. A cacophony of screeches and caws grated harshly through the air as they swarmed, enough to make his teeth ache and grit strangely in his mouth. Laid out, defenseless, Bertholdt slapped his hands over his ears, but it did little to drown out the relentless screaming surrounding him and draining the health bar hovering over his head.

He closed his eyes. Surely he'd wake up in his virtual bed soon, pockets a little lighter after suffering the respawn fee -- but the swirling dark clouds that accompanied the 'dying' mechanic didn't take over his vision as he'd expected.

"Dude, what are you doing?!"

A savior in mismatched armor, a diamond among the rough tree line.

"You don't even have any ranged abilities yet. You gotta pick up a crossbow or something, man, you're fucked against stuff like this!"

The first time he met you, you saved his ass. And you never let him forget about it, either.

It was months ago when he made his first friend in Planes of Eldia, who just so happened to be a sweet, higher-level mage. You didn't mind gifting him gear and weapons, you didn't mind escorting him through quests you'd already completed. Bertholdt felt babied by this objectively better player, utterly dwarfed in skill and abilities, but you never minded.

You were cute -- well, your avatar was cute, he had to remind himself. He felt drawn to you in embarrassing ways. Whenever he'd log on, he'd check to see if you were also online. He'd travel to your avatar's home a few villages away, feeling much like a nervous teenager when he knocked on the door. It was just a game, he had to remind himself.

Just a game.

Eventually, you two played nearly every day together. It became a ritual of sorts: Bertholdt would get off work, put on the headset, and you'd almost always be waiting. The gentle greetings and little laughs were a symphony to his ears. So many nights stretched far too long, sometimes not even getting anything done in the game. Hours of just talking felt like minutes when it meant he could lie in a field of grass next to you.

"You... you have an online girlfriend?" Reiner had smirked at him from across the table one night, amusement dancing behind his golden gaze. Bertholdt blanched, nearly choking over his beer. "No, no! She's just... a friend, on the game, who happens to be a girl," he sputtered and glanced away. The restaurant surrounding them felt too quiet for the friendly conversation to take such an embarrassing turn. Distant forks scraped against plates and patrons chatted to one another, yet Bertholdt felt like he was trapped in a closet with his oldest friend, pressed into an inescapable corner. He picked at a fry on his plate absently.

The blonde arched a brow, clearly inquisitive after that reaction. "Well, you sure spend a lot of time together. I feel like I haven't seen you in ages," he hummed and paused to take a bite of his meal, "I finally pin you down and now I feel like I know everything about this... friend."

The sound of phone chimes suddenly broke into their space -- three dings, back to back -- and Bertholdt stiffened in place. A hole was burning in his pocket and anyone half blind could see it. Reiner blinked at him and the curious way he molded into a rather ghoulish statue under the dim lighting. "...Don't tell me that's her."

"Okay, I won't."

"Bert, buddy," Reiner swiped the back of his hand across his mouth a little unceremoniously, clearly loosening up after his third beer, "listen. You like her, don't you?"

The brunette didn't reply, instead choosing to take an inappropriately massive bite of the burger he'd been neglecting. He started talking earlier and didn't notice the rapid pace that took over him, words simply spilling from his usually timid mouth at breakneck speed, dripping with puppy-like excitement. It was rather unusual, Reiner noticed immediately, but he simply grinned and soaked in the gleefulness radiating from his friend.

Bertholdt looked guilty, but really, he felt torn.

He knew the answer to Reiner's question. Of course he liked this girl, how could he not? The connection was nearly instant and completely automatic. He'd always been a rather shy individual, finding it hard to communicate and find a comfortable space around others. People were intimidating. People were confusing.

But you were kind. You were sweet, you made him laugh, you looked at him like he held no flaws.

Maybe it was naive of him, a man in his twenties falling for someone over the internet like some lost puppy, someone he had never met in person. Naive or not, he knew what Reiner was going to say -- it was written all over his face, that slightly wry smirk slipping into a rather tight line.

"Do you know what she sounds like?" The blonde asked next. Bertholdt nodded and swallowed, not really tasting the food in his awkward reverie.

"We talk every day."

"And she... sounds like a girl?"

Okay, maybe he didn't quite know what Reiner was thinking. He assumed there'd be some light ribbing, not an entire interrogation.

"Yes. God, Reiner, what are you getting at?"

The man across from him held his hands up in a show of defense, dipping his head a tad. "I'm just saying, there are some weirdos out there, man!" he flicked his golden gaze over Bertholdt, calculating his next words carefully. "Do you know what she looks like?"

"Yeah," he replied quickly, but faltered after a moment of thought. "Well... I guess not. I haven't asked for a picture or anything."

Reiner laid his palms flat on the table. A steady look washed over his relaxed face. "Bert," he said sternly. His name never felt heavier coming from Reiner's mouth. The brunette shook his head, heat rising to the tips of his ears.

"W-Who cares what she looks like? She's my friend, we just play games together, nothing else."

Except, there was something else. He'd just rather keel over on his plate before admitting it to the skeptical mass of muscle across from him.

Bertholdt remembered the first time he felt a line had been blurred, past the casual flirting and prolonged eye contact that was so beautifully normal for you two.

Digital stars hung in the sky, twinkling little holes punched behind a swirl of pastel colors, painted like careful brush strokes. That particular corner of the gigantic map was your favorite. The sky was always dark, but the gentle glow from the aurora above served as the perfect night light. Soft blues and greens lit up your cheeks and glistened in your eyes. Bertholdt felt dizzy watching you, felt his breath nearly sucked from his lungs when the realization hit him like a sack of bricks.

It was just a game, sure, but he was smitten. The avatar sitting at his side was just that: a character.

But when you -- your digital form -- laid your head on his shoulder, he could feel the pressure. He could feel the heat radiating from you, feel the butterflies in his belly.

He knew he was in deep.

"Have you ever seen something so pretty where you live?" you asked, tone dreamy and voice soft. Bertholdt shook his head gently without needing much thought.

"It's pretty boring where I'm from, honestly. Not much to do around here," he replied. Briefly, he thought about you, most likely sitting thousands of miles away in some city he's never heard of. He thought about what your daily life might consist of, outside this magical realm you traversed together nightly.

It became easier to be bold in this virtual setting, no matter how real it felt. Bertholdt slowly snaked an arm around your form and let his fingers ghost over your waist, something he'd be petrified to do in person.

"Ugh, me too. I visited Paradis with some friends last year, and it was so fun. Made me super jealous that my town is just so... bland, even if it's not that far away."

Bertholdt looked down at you. "Not far from Paradis?" he asked. A sense of excitement leaked into his words, one he hoped you didn't catch onto.

"Yeah. It's like, a ferry ride away."

No fucking way.

Bertholdt straightened himself. Suddenly, the hilltop you two lazed on felt sky-high, his heart catapulting into a slightly frenzied state. "Do you live around Liberio, maybe?" he asked, a little shake in his voice.

He could tell he caught you off guard with the way you snapped up to look at him. The answer was plain as day, but the satisfaction of hearing you confirm it felt too delicious to pass up. "No fucking way," was all you said, but it was music to his ears, easily stealing the breath from his lungs.

The VR was revolutionary, impeccable and immersive, allowing you to feel everything your character would -- almost everything, anyway. Bertholdt knew his actual heart was threatening to burst in his chest. He knew he was probably sweating in his gaming chair, and he knew Reiner would have a field day with this information if he ever caught wind. What the brunette didn't know, though, was how real it would feel when you planted a kiss on his cheek.

Not just the sensation -- of course he'd feel it, he felt everything that touched him -- but the implications behind it. You were a real person, somewhere not far from him, someone he absolutely adored, and you had kissed him. On purpose, no less.

At least he wasn't crazy like Reiner inadvertently made him out to be. It wasn't all in his head. All the hours spent together, all the late nights, all the texts that made him glow while he was supposed to be working... it wasn't nothing. It wasn't silly, it wasn't weird. It was real. You were real, somewhere, and he needed to settle some things before he went insane from self-doubt.

Despite his outward skepticism, Reiner was a good friend, with good intentions. Bertholdt knew it all came from a place of love, even if it left a sour taste in his mouth sometimes, which is why he even allowed this Scooby-Doo-level scheme to transpire in the first place.

The cafe was quiet, but not empty. A few students dotted the tables, typing away on laptops. A little group of women clad in athletic gear chatted amicably just a few seats away. Bertholdt tried to sip away his nerves, the coffee burning his mouth in his haste. A new text tore his gaze away from the front door he'd been burning a hole in for the past five minutes.

Reiner: You look like you're about to shit yourself

He rolled his olive-colored eyes, shooting a pointed glare at the blonde sitting not-so-casually across the building. Reiner tilted his head with a grin before biting his croissant.

The blonde came as backup, a safety net in case things went horribly wrong with this... date? Would you even call it a date? Maybe it'd be too forward to assume. Sure, he'd held your hand; you've hugged plenty of times; you've kissed his cheek, and he's kissed your forehead. But this was all virtual, Reiner was quick to chirp in.

Truthfully, Bertholdt wasn't sure what to expect as he waited anxiously. What if things were painfully awkward? What if he didn't know what to say, what if he clammed up like he tended to do in social situations, and you thought he was some weirdo from the internet?

What if you didn't even show up?

Reiner: This is taking forever

Bertholdt heaved a sigh, staring at the phone laid on the table. As much as it pained him, he agreed with the sentiment, nerves frayed like a man on death row. What a painful, mortifying mistake this could be. What a--

"Bertholdt?"

He must've missed the door chime, must've missed the little gasp hidden behind the fit of self-depreciation he'd immersed himself in because he certainly missed the girl that walked cautiously up to his table and stood before him. Wide eyes slid up your form to settle on your face -- your strikingly familiar face that he'd actually never seen before, except, he has.

Just... digitally.

You looked exactly like your avatar, which came as a stark surprise. People usually embellish their characters, making them wildly more interesting or attractive to live their best fantasy life -- but you, standing a little ways away with your fingers fiddling at your sleeves -- you were so familiar, it made his chest ache and stomach flip dangerously.

He managed to mumble out your name, disbelief accidentally dripping from the syllables. A jovial smile crept over your cheeks, hidden by the hand you slapped over your mouth rather quickly. "No way, no way," you muttered, voice raised an octave in what he hoped was excitement.

Any sense of confidence he held in your little virtual world completely dashed away, knowing how stunning you actually were in person. He suddenly felt bashful, hot prickles rising under his skin as he stood up.

"Woah, you're really tall," you gawked, staring up at him with a gleam in your eye.

Reiner let his mouth hang in subtle disbelief as he watched the scene play out. He'd suggested the plan in wholesome concern, fully expecting to console his heartbroken friend over a few beers and maybe a little shit-talking session -- never in a million years did he expect a beautiful girl to waltz in, let alone bury her face in Bertholdt's chest as he timidly wrapped his arms around her. The two men made eye contact from across the cafe, sharing the moment of shock.

Reiner was a good friend -- he knew when to make himself sparse.

"Sorry I'm-- I'm really nervous, to be honest," the man before you said breathily, swiping his hands over his jeans. You'd felt how stiff he was during your hug, the energy radiating off of him like a live wire. As incredibly flattering as it was, it also fed your anxiety, making your hands shake just the slightest bit, but you laughed it off, enraptured by the adorable blush dusting his cheeks. "That's okay, I am, too," you replied gently, trying your best to even out your tone.

Bertholdt looked down at his drink. Something clicked, making him jump a little bit. "I'm so sorry, c-can I buy you a coffee?"

Your stomach fluttered, unable to look away from him. "I'd love that, thank you, Bertie," the nickname slipped out so easily, but it nearly threw him on the ground, his face and neck now a deep red.

"It's no problem, anything for you."

You weren't sure what you were expecting from this little plan. To any outsider, it was undeniably risky -- meeting up with some guy from the internet, alone. The fact that he asked you to choose the destination was a good sign in your eyes, though, as if you personally needed more reassurance... despite not knowing him in real life (yet), you knew there couldn't be a malicious bone in Bertholdt's body. The man was honey personified, extremely respectful in all of your interactions thus far, even when the playful banter turned a little less than platonic.

As he sat across from you, a smile crinkling the corners of his eyes, you knew he was a shy thing; the way he would bounce his gaze between you and his drink made you squirm with adoration. Nobody else in that little cafe felt relevant as you talked, minutes slipping away until the sun began to dip behind buildings outside.

How long had you been there? The parking meter certainly needed to be fed, or you got slapped with a ticket already, but you couldn't find it in yourself to care. Your favorite person and the only man on your mind for the past year or so was finally in front of you, laughing at lame little anecdotes and strange stories from your life as if you were the most interesting person in the world. It felt so normal, so natural, it's like you hadn't had the wind knocked out of you just hours before.

"It's getting late," you said suddenly, sighing into the empty space inside your cup. Bertholdt glanced out the window, blinking in surprise. "I guess so," he replied, "I didn't even notice."

You smiled coyly. "I take it you're enjoying yourself?"

"More than I'd like to admit." The brunette ran a hand through his hair, all but forcing you to take note of the prominent veins that ran up his forearm, hiding under the rolled sleeves at his elbows. He'd dressed so nicely, it made you swoon inside. "Well... okay, call me crazy--"

"You're crazy, but so am I, because I already agree with whatever you're going to say," you found yourself leaning across the table, eyeing him with a heated, curious gaze.

Bertholdt chuckled -- a deep, rumbly noise that lit a fire under you. "Don't agree too quickly, you'll get my hopes up. I was just wondering... would it be weird if we, I dunno," he looked away shyly, fiddling with the long-empty cup between you both, "spent some more time together tonight?"

At your grin, he flushed deep again. Oh, how adorable this giant, bashful teddy bear was.

"I-I mean, like, maybe a movie or something? I'm sorry if it's weird. I just... I've had a lot of fun, I really like being around you, and I don't want today to be over."

Reaching over, you laid a hand over his, nothing but syrupy sweetness in your voice, "I'd love that, Bertie."

He really should've cleaned. It's not often he has guests in his apartment, let alone gorgeous women, so the space seemed embarrassingly lackluster as Bertholdt guided you inside and flicked on the lights. "Sorry for the mess," he mumbled sheepishly, running a hand through his hair, and you waved him off immediately, muttering a playful 'shush, you're fine' in reply.

It's not like he could've predicted bringing you back home. Fuck, he wasn't even sure if he'd be meeting you at all -- and now, there you were, curiously gazing at a few framed photos hanging on his entryway wall. You looked utterly adorable, smiling at the image he knew to be his graduation day; he stood side by side with Reiner, red gowns draped over them and wide smiles plastered on their faces. "You look so cute here," you cooed, a sense of adoration dripping from your lips.

Bertholdt chuckled meekly. His stomach was tying knots around itself at a rapid pace. "Thanks. You look cute, too," he replied before he could think it over.

"Oh, do I?"

"Y-Yeah, stunning, actually."

The air felt heavier as you looked at him, your hands drawn together before you, lips pursed in the cutest half pout he'd ever seen.

Bertholdt was never good with women. He could feel himself crack under your gaze, nervous energy surging him further into his apartment in a feeble attempt at diffusing the tension he depicted as discomfort. "S-So, make yourself at home," he cleared his throat and set his keys on the granite countertop separating the kitchen from the living room.

Truthfully, you were on cloud nine. Despite only just meeting him (formally, anyways), your mind wandered to dangerous territory as soon as he sheepishly brought up extending your night. All these emotions that had built up for so long were finally coming to a head, in one way or another, and the need to explore it outweighed your frazzled nerves.

Fuck, it felt good when he complimented you. It felt good when he looked at you; it made you feel whole, complete, admired for everything you were. There was something so different about having that deep emotional connection before any inkling of physical attraction -- but that was most definitely there, too, burning deep in your belly and making your thighs squirm a bit.

His couch had never felt more comfortable than it did with you snuggled on it. It was impeccable, really, how smooth everything seemed to go despite how devastatingly nervous he was inside. Part of him wanted to text Reiner, maybe to gloat just a little bit, to revel in how he finally felt wanted by a beautiful girl that just so happened to lean into his side so casually it was like she was made to be there.

But, no, Bertholdt couldn't tear himself away from the moment, even for all the satisfaction that blabbing to the blonde might bring.

You hummed, utterly content in this mans hold, your core swirling as he rubbed little circles into your arm. His smell was intoxicating, something so clean and masculine and new but it felt so comfortable, so familiar in a strange way. How odd of a feeling, to be enamored with someone for so long and finally be able to feel them under your fingertips, take in their scent, even taste them if you so chose.

The thought brought electricity to life under your skin.

The movie still played idly on the TV, though truthfully, nobody was paying attention. Bertholdt realized this when he chanced a peek down, being met with a heavy gaze through thick lashes. His heart hammered in his ears.

"Hi," he breathed, so easily sucked into the beauty pressed against his side.

"Hi," you mirrored, nearly purring once he squeezed you closer, your head falling naturally against his chest. An experimental hand laid across his abdomen, spurring surprise at how toned he felt under the soft cotton. "This okay?" you cooed gently.

Bertholdt sucked in a sharp breath, feeling himself tense up as your fingers explored the peaks and valleys of his stomach. "Y-Yeah, that's okay," he watched you closely, deathly curious to see exactly what was happening before him.

"Bertie?"

The way you said that little nickname always made him melt. Though you could probably call him anything and he'd be quick to swoon.

"Mhm?"

With a tilt of his head, you leveraged yourself to lean up his torso and plant your lips across his own, eyes fluttering shut before you could spy the way his face immediately flamed up. Bertholdt's body lit up in record time, his skin searing and mind reeling -- it took a few seconds before he pulled together and leaned into you, but the action was eager, needy, incredibly charged. The sound of your lips working against each other overpowered the film, but was barely a thought in his mind over the subconscious screaming your intimate affections spurred in him. Embarrassingly enough, with a few swipes of your tongue against his, he could feel his dick growing harder and harder, just inches away from where your hand now played under his shirt. The man groaned softly into your mouth, worming his hand up to brush your hair away in utter adoration.

You pressed your thighs together, the fire between them becoming overwhelming as his hands curiously began to roam over you. He was so gentle, so cautious -- you leaned yourself further into him, shifting your hand down to grasp his thigh, but gasped into his mouth when you accidentally brushed over his bulge.

"S-Sorry," he muttered, eyes squeezed shut, "I'm... you're really pretty, and I just really like you--" it was Bertholdt's turn to gasp when you palmed him through his jeans, pressing down with teasing force.

"Don't be sorry," a catlike grin spread over your plump lips, "I don't mind at all. I really like you too, y'know." You bumped your nose against his in a sweet little nuzzle, completely eating up how his breathing quickened with your gentle rubbing. A few short, involuntary jerks from his hips completely fed your ego, ushering away any nerves that threatened to fray in the heated moment.

"Is it okay if I...?" he pressed his forehead to yours, finally prying his eyes open to watch you, uncertainty laying heavy in his green gaze. A coy giggle spilled out in all your excitement, taking his hand and pressing it against your chest, kneading a little bit for extra measure. Even through the thick fabric of his jeans, you could feel his cock twitch.

A cute hitch caught in his throat when your hand fell away from his, his guide lost. "I... um," he pressed against the soft swell curiously, "h-honestly, I'm not the most experienced."

You pecked his lips, heart swooning when he eagerly pecked back. " 's okay, Bertie, neither am I."

"Really?"

Playfully, you squeezed at his hard length. An unmistakable tingle pooled in your core when he slipped a delectable moan against your kiss-swollen lips.

"Really. But I feel so... comfortable with you. I'm down to try some things out, if you are," your words were honey, and he was soaking up every bit he could, his heart utterly slamming against its poor cage. Bertholdt nodded eagerly, eyes falling shut again with a hard swallow. "Y-Yeah, yeah, I'd like that, a lot," the slight quiver in his voice made you notice the throb between your legs.

Bertholdt was so addicting in every sense. The smell of his sheets gripped you, pulled you in, made you think about how gruff his morning voice would sound or how cute he'd look with sloppy chocolate bedhead. It was almost too perfect, how at ease you felt under his careful touch. The incredibly flustered look splayed over his face once his cock was freed sent you into a horny tizzy -- it was perfect, if a little intimidating: long, flushed at the tip, drooling precum as it hung heavy between his toned thighs.

"I-I've thought about this a lot," he breathed, saddling himself between your bare legs, "it doesn't feel real. You're so gorgeous, so perfect," he shyly traced his thumb up and down your drooling lips, mesmerized by the sheer amount of wetness pooling already. "I'm so fucking glad you're here with me."

Electric jolts shot through you once he found your clit, swollen and needy and begging to be played with. Instinct made your legs squeeze together around him, even if all your lust-riddled brain wanted was to open up as wide as you possibly could for more of his delicate touch. Bertholdt watched in near astonishment as you writhed under his hold, one hand settled gingerly on your thigh and the other rubbing sweet circles against your hot button.

Succulent moans slipped from your lips, giving him the biggest confidence boost in the world. "Keep doing that," you cooed, "feels s'good," eyes fluttering shut, your head nudged back against his pillows in a state of bliss. He listened obediently, swirling your clit, and pressed his silky cockhead against your heat. With all your juices nearly dripping out of you, he barely needed any pressure before he was slipping between your lips, the new sensation sending shivers down his spine. "F-Fuck," he hissed quietly, even more pre dribbling out in his excitement. Needy, nearly throbbing, you wriggled your hips against him.

"More, need more," you whined.

"You want more?" the brunette breathed, rocking against you, dipping just the very tip of his cock inside and pulling out again. "Please," came your desperate reply, "please fuck me, Bertie."

The request alone nearly made him cum. With a groan, Bertholdt urged himself further at a careful pace, faltering a tad but not relenting on your sensitive little clit. Stretching around him, the unique sensation left you a bubbling mess, gripping onto his forearms hard enough to leave little crescent moons along the lightly tanned skin. "A-Am I hurting you?" he gasped, pausing mid-thrust and leaving only half his long cock inside, despite how desperately he wanted to bury himself all at once. He wanted to get lost in you, in your warmth, your wetness, but not at the sake of your comfort. Feverishly, your head thrashed side to side, eyes popping open to catch his hazy gaze. " 's okay, I'm okay, I promise."

"Want you to feel good," his chest, slick with a light sheen of sweat, heaved so deliciously. It looked like he was falling apart at the seams. "Are you ready? C-Can I keep going?"

You bit your lip. Such a sweet fucking man, towering over you in all your indecency, tripping over himself to make sure you were alright. With a little mewl, you raised your hips, sucking in more of his hard dick. "More, more," you begged, "want you t'fill me up..."

It was all he needed, a strained little moan accompanying his push into you. Pelvis to pelvis, Bertholdt couldn't believe the sight in front of him. The woman he'd been hopelessly in love with, splayed out on his sheets, face twisted up in pleasure that he was more than willing to provide. It was real, you were real -- the pressure in his lower belly was absolutely real, coiling aggressively fast as he slid in and out of your wet pussy. The sensation was addicting, he decided, your gooey insides massaging him so perfectly it was hard to stop, and even harder to keep himself contained. "Fuck, you feel so good," he breathed, forcing his eyes shut as he tried to find a rhythm between hip thrusts and messing with your clit. The circles grew sloppy, but he couldn't find it in himself to correct it, every moment drawing him closer and closer to release. "I-I'm sorry, I'm sorry," Bertholdt gasped, his hips stuttering along with his words, " 'm so close," he nearly whined, completely in love with the way your body sucked him in so greedily. Your hands found their way to his chest, lightly scratching down to his abs, tipping closer and closer to your own orgasm with his delicious words and needy moans. " 'm I gonna make you cum, pretty boy?"

The brunette lost the battle, that coil inside him completely snapping under your sticky sweet words -- muttering incoherent praises, Bertholdt hung his head as he came, thrusting deep inside you to bury himself as far as he could. A tiny bit of sense knocked back into him with your wiggling, enough to pick up the pace on your clit while his cock eased in and out of you slowly, riding out the tail end of his orgasm and feeding your own.

Clenching, spasming, your cunt sucked onto him desperately, a silent cry falling out of you and sucking all the air out of your lungs. This was so incredibly different than cumming against your own fingers, hitting so much deeper and scratching an itch you didn't know you had until Bertholdt satisfied it so intensely. "So good, so fucking good," he panted, easing himself out of you once your muscles began to relax.

The glow that settled over you both was intoxicating. His room felt hot, heavy, as if there wasn't enough oxygen for your needy lungs as you tried to recover with shaky legs. He laid beside you, trying to muddle through the wave of emotions crashing against him as he gazed at your breathless form in his bed.

"Thank you," Bertholdt said rather innocently, pressing his nose into your messy hair.

You giggled. "Thank you, what an excellent host you've been."

"My pleasure," he sighed. It felt like he just ran one of Reiner's impossible marathons, leaving his muscles weak and brain foggy.

"Yeah, speaking of... do you mind if I use your shower?" your thighs pressed together, acutely aware of his cum threatening to dribble out of you. A strange sense of pride coupled with slight sheepishness filled his chest when he realized what you meant, agreeing immediately and taking you on a little tour of his apartment, starting with the bathroom.

"So, you do have an online girlfriend."

Reiner was looking rather smug, leaning against his forearms on Bertholdt's counter. He studied the little photobooth strip of you both stuck to the fridge as the brunette rummaged around in it. Bert looked happy, kissing your cheek in one of the squares, beaming in the next.

"Not just online," the taller man mused, "she's coming over later, so don't make a mess."

Almost like a proud parent, Reiner straightened and grinned, playfully dusting off the spot he just occupied. "Alright, alright," he mused, not missing the way Bertholdt smiled so effortlessly as he crossed the kitchen. It was refreshing to see him so happy. "I'll get out of your hair. You have fun on your little date."

Waving him off, Bertholdt grinned into the sink as he washed the vegetables for your dinner that night.

You were real. Not just you as a person, not just your feelings for him -- you two, as the inseparable berserker and mage duo -- your connection was real, infallible, undeniable.

God, he loved that damn VR headset.