Yeah man, I’ll kill em

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

♡ Kabru ♡

- Kabru has had little flings here and there throughout his life. He treated every partner with respect, of course, but Kabru wasn’t particularly looking for love. He doesn’t dislike the idea of love, it just hasn’t happened yet.

- So, when Kabru starts to genuinely fall in love with someone, it’s a new feeling. He’s observant enough to recognize what it is.

- Unfortunately, the person he’s falling in love with is you.

“He’s been unusually quiet lately,” Holm remarked. Who he was remarking that to remained to be seen. Mickbell didn’t care much. Kuro had other things to worry about. And Rin had already made the same observation three times earlier that day.

The first floor of the dungeon was always crowded, and Kabru’s ears were usually open for anything that could be of use. The leather armor merchant to his left had recently raised his prices. The cobbler to the right was in an argument with an older lady over the shape of a patch he’d made on her favorite boots. And Holm was concerned about Kabru’s recent lack of observations; as concerned as Holm could be.

“Is that really such a shock?” Kabru sent Holm a smile over his shoulder. “I’m not exactly a chatterbox.”

But he was aware of himself enough to know that his behavior lately had been odd. He was usually so good at hiding it, too, but the comfort of his friends seemed to lower his walls. Without realizing it, Kabru had spent their latest dungeon expedition sighing to himself, staring at walls, and missing the details of important things. On the third floor, they’d encountered thieves. His party always relied on him to clock the intentions of approaching adventurers— thieves tended to be overly familiar, friendly, and a bit too eager— but Kabru’s mind was elsewhere. The thieves attacked, and it had genuinely taken him by surprise. The fight wasn’t hard, but Kabru’s lack of preparation set off alarms in Rin and Holm’s heads.

“You’re not,” Rin agreed. Her brow furrowed and she got that cute little line on her forehead again. “However, you’ve really been out of it.”

“Have you been thinking about that person again?” Holm asked.

That person. That person? Kabru knew a lot of persons. The whole first level was filled to the brim with persons, half of them being his acquaintances. Kabru had zero desire to admit that he knew precisely who Holm was referring to, though, and decided to keep his gaze straight ahead as he weaved through the crowd.

When he didn’t respond, Mickbell laughed, “Yeah, he’s thinking of them alright.”

“Heat?” Kuro asked.

Mickbell scoffed from his place on Kuro’s shoulders, “Tall-men don’t go into heat! At least I don’t think so. But they catch feelings, like a cold. Kabru’s caught a cold.”

“Not sneezing,” Kuro mumbled.

“A feelings cold, I mean! The worst kind.”

That was one way to put it. Kabru couldn’t help but sigh as he led the party towards a quieter spot in the corner. Once they were out of the sea of people, he leaned against the stone wall and ran his fingers through his hair. “I don’t have feelings, I’m simply curious,” he said.

Curious. Right. Mickbell sent him a scrunched up, narrow-eyed look that was reminiscent of constipation. Yet, Rin interjected before the half-foot could say something heinous. “What’re you curious about, particularly?” She asked.

“Good question,” Kabru folded his arms over his chest and tilted his head in thought.

What was he curious about? You held so many secrets. You had this look in your eyes that drew him, a look that reminded him of a room in his mother’s house. She always told him to not go inside. Her rules only made him want to turn the knob even more. And when he finally did disobey her and go inside, all he saw were boxes full of ceramic unicorn miniatures. Still, the rush of satisfaction he’d felt at finally knowing what was in there couldn’t be matched. That’s what he wanted to do to you, open your door and take a peek.

Or, perhaps a ‘peek’ was an understatement. He wanted to meticulously inspect every inch of your mind with a microscope, to know the atoms unseen by the human eye, to be intimately acquainted with every molecule you possessed.

“He’s zoned out again,” Holm muttered, ripping Kabru out of his thoughts.

He looked up, eyes widening at the observation. Holm was right, he was zoned out again, staring at the dirt on the floor and contemplating you.

He forced a smile, “Don’t worry about me, really. I’m just preoccupied. It’s that person, I simply want to know their intentions.”

“Intentions for what?” Rin asked.

For everything. There was no simple answer.

“Oh hey,” Mickbell glanced over his shoulder. His voice was flat as he scanned the room, “There they are.”

Kabru followed Mickbell’s gaze, a straight line that led directly to you— all lines seemed to lead directly to you lately. His heart clenched in a way that was both unpleasant and addictive. Without realizing it, he pushed away from the wall and began striding toward where you stood.

“Wait,” Rin grabbed his arm as he passed. Kabru blinked, looking down at her and waiting for her to speak. She met his eyes and frowned, “I think you’re going to be disappointed. They’re not as mysterious as you think they are.”

Nonsense. You were incredibly mysterious. Kabru could tell you had secrets, layers. He dreamed of pulling them back one by one.

“They couldn’t disappoint me,” he sent Rin a smile that he hoped was reassuring— he knew it was, he’d practiced it in the mirror and on other people all the time.

“I think they will,” she argued.

“They won’t,” his smile faltered just the slightest. Rin didn’t usually get involved in Kabru’s… hobby. Did she know something he didn’t? He decided to not ask outright, accepting the challenge of figuring out the meaning behind her concern on his own.

Rin let go of his arm and Kabru was free to go. His mind switched elsewhere, onto you, and before he knew it he was already slipping through the crowd of bodies to reach you.

You were in front of the vegetable seller’s stand, inspecting a lumpy potato. Kabru knew the vegetable seller was cheating on his wife. Usually, he’d try to get more out of the man, digging deeper simply for the sake of knowing. Yet, you stood there, beautiful and mind-consuming. What did Rin mean by ‘I think you’re going to be disappointed’? Kabru was rarely disappointed with secrets.

“Hey,” he raised a hand as he neared. You looked up from the potato and returned his smile. There was that look in your eyes again, that closed door he desperately needed the key to.

He loved crowds. He loved the hundreds of voices. He loved listening to each one and assigning them meaning, picking apart their words, filing them away into neat little categories. Yet, the crowd might as well have disappeared. All he saw was you. All he wanted was you and your words and your thoughts and your fears and your goals and your likes and your dislikes and your intentions and your—

“Oh hey,” your voice cut through the wants like the slash of a sword, “Kapru.”

Kapru.

His brows furrowed and he plastered on a polite smile— also practiced in the mirror. “It’s Kabru.”

“Right, sorry,” you shrugged.

Were you playing with him? Were you sending your pawn out, a piece that you expected him to take for the sake of a larger, more powerful move? Was it bait?

“How are you?” He forced himself to ask, though he could hear the weakness in his voice. He desperately hoped you wouldn’t notice.

You only tilted your head in thought, “I’m fine. Just buying potatoes.”

“It’s been so long since we’ve seen each other,” Kabru said. It was a lie, you saw him last week. “My party and I are about to go back to the surface to restock. We could grab a drink if you wanted.”

“Why?” You asked.

Why? Why? Kabru couldn’t say why. He wouldn’t say why. ‘I want to take detailed notes on every word you say, every gesture, every breath’ wouldn’t be helpful to his cause in the least.

“Because we’re friends,” he slowly explained. Again, there was that hint of weakness lacing every syllable. He wanted to tear his voice box apart and reconstruct it in a way that wouldn’t falter every time he saw you.

But you didn’t seem to notice. “Alright,” you sent him a smile that made his heart clench.

Alright. Kabru’s smile relaxed, “Alright,” he echoed. “It’s a date.”

‘It’s a date’ was a common saying, of course. But it still held implications, it still held desires, it still signified something more— At least to him it did.

You remained unphased by it, though. Usually, when Kabru said that, there would be a laugh or blush or the widening of eyes. You gave him nothing of the sort. No flirtatious looks, no intention-laced smile, no flicker of recognition.

“See you then,” was all you said.

Rin was wrong. You couldn’t disappoint him. Opening your doors and peeking inside your mind would be so satisfying.

- You go on several dates with Kabru without realizing they’re dates.

- After one date when you make friends with the next table over and invite them to join your meal, introducing Kabru as ‘my friend’ and not ‘the man who is courting me’ or ‘my boyfriend’, he begins to wonder…

- Do you not realize that these are dates?

Kabru knew he had the tendency to stare, but he usually kept that urge locked away for the sake of masking. Always masking. Always aware of his surroundings and the people and the words and the looks.

He kept his staring urge hidden at first. Yet as time passed, as you went on more dates, he couldn’t help himself. He had to stare. He had to drink in every detail of your face, coveting it all as a desert wanderer would covet water.

And you didn’t seem to mind. You would give him this look sometimes, a look he couldn’t quite decipher. It was a mixture between affection and confusion and bashfulness. It was his favorite expression of yours and never failed to put butterflies in his stomach.

Kabru knew he was falling in love. He wasn’t opposed to the idea, but he’d never been truly in love before. At night when he forced himself into bed, he stared at the ceiling and mused on the future you had together. Neither of you had said anything to make the relationship official, but was that even needed? It was obvious that you were together— to him, at least.

Kabru held your hand as he led you through the crowded streets. Once you caught up to his side, he placed his palm on the small of your back. He wasn’t much for PDA, but it was a necessity when traversing the island together. He didn’t want to lose you in the crowd.

Once you were in a more quiet spot, he sent you a smile, “I have to ask, I’m too curious; What’s your favorite date that we’ve had together?”

You thought for a moment, “Hm… I would have to say last week. It was a Thursday. I like Thursdays anyway. I think it was the 7th? Yeah. June 7th, Thursday. That’s a good date, it’s a bit cool outside and all the flowers are blooming. But if I had to say which one was my favorite, I think it would be April 18th. I’m not sure that we spent that date together, though.”

…Okay.

Like the sunset rising over the mountains, it began to dawn on him.

Were you stupid?

No, you weren’t stupid. He had seen you in the dungeon before, how you fought and strategized and reacted. You couldn’t be stupid.

Then what? Were you playing hard to get? Were you teasing him? Was this a move on the board, your Knight piece pressing forward to continue the assault? Kabru needed to know.

He kept his hand on your back but his gaze straight ahead. “That’s nice,” he said. It wasn’t nice, actually. “What about when we hold hands? Do you enjoy that?”

You shrugged, “It helps us keep track of each other as we go through a crowd.”

“But I hold your hand even when we’re not around other people.”

The face you made betrayed your true thoughts. “Yeah, it seems like your hands are cold a lot. You really should start keeping gloves with you.”

“...Do you think I’m holding your hand because my fingers are cold?”

Another flash of confusion, another furrow of your brows. “Why else would you hold my hand?”

The sun rose completely over the mountains and the daytime, clear and bright, engulfed his world.

You had no clue.

- This stresses Kabru out immensely.

- He starts taking notes. He has a special little book just for you. A lot of the pages are filled with scribbles and question marks.

- He makes a plan on what to do. He’s going to up the ante, he’s going to make his feelings so clear that you can’t ignore them or be oblivious even if you tried.

- He starts getting more touchy. He kisses your forehead often. He kisses your knuckles. He’s around you all the time, every chance he gets. He tells you you’re beautiful. He says that he wants you to meet his mother. He talks about your future together.

- You say, “Oh, your mom? Cool. You think we’ll get along? I’m always up for making new friends.”

- “You want a future with me? Well, I’m free next Wednesday.”

“I like you,” Kabru was breathless and wide-eyed. His hair was a mess from how often he’d run his fingers through it. He was disheveled and hadn’t slept the entire night.

You glanced up from the book you were reading, “Oh? Cool, thanks.”

He sent you a look. “No, I mean I love you.”

“Yeah,” you flipped a page in the book, “love you too.”

“You do?” Hope bloomed and unfurled like a spring flower. Kabru felt his cheeks grow warm, a fire igniting within him.

“Yeah,” you said lightly, “I love all my friends, of course.”

That spring flower suddenly wilted. The fire was doused by a cold bucket of water in the form of your words. Kabru wanted to scream and bang his head against the wall.

“You don’t get it,” he hissed through clenched teeth, fingers tensing as he leaned forward, desperate. “I’m in love with you. This is really hard for me to say, but I think you need to hear it like this. I love you. I love you. I love you…” Somehow, his cheeks went even hotter. His adams apple bobbed as he swallowed his embarrassment, “I-I… Sorry. I just need you like I need oxygen. I…”

You snorted, “You don’t need me to breathe, I’m a person not an organ. You’re breathing right now just fine.”

He was not breathing just fine, but that was beside the point.

“Excuse me for a moment,” Kabru said. He could hear how strained his voice sounded.

You watched as he walked away, rounding a corner and disappearing from sight. Then he screamed. It sounded like he also kicked something, a crate or box maybe.

How odd.

- When it finally gets through your head, he’s actually a bit satisfied by your embarrassment at it all. Yes, please do acknowledge your obliviousness. Please do apologize for treating his love confession so casually. When you do so, he feels as if he could melt from the relief.

- He still wants to bang his head on the wall, though.

- And he’s spent a lot of nights screaming into his pillow.

- Kabru continues to play 5d chess with you, just simply out of habit, but you’re playing Hungry Hungry Hippos the entire time. He still finds himself trying to pick apart your actions and responses, but he’s learned how to take things at face value when it comes to you. It’s a difficult adjustment, but one he’s willing to make.

- He starts to learn, take more notes, observe your behavior. For dates, he lays it out carefully. You two are going to do this specific thing. Why? Because he would like to see you happy, and hold your hand, and kiss you. Why? Because he loves you. Now you get it.

- You’re fascinating actually. Genuinely, he starts to adore how your brain works. He wants to pick it apart and hold the pieces up to a magnifying glass.

♡ Mithrun ♡

- He does not care.

- Be as oblivious as you want, that’s not going to stop Mithrun.

- The Canaries, however, are going insane.

“How’s it going with them?” Pattadol asked. Her hands were folded in front of her in that polite way, the way that told Mithrun that his second in command had something on her mind. Pattadol thought she was subtle. She was not.

And he knew precisely who she was referring to. Might as well give her an answer that’ll satisfy her curiosity, lest she keep asking questions.

“Fine,” he answered, “just fine.”

Yet, Pattadol’s brow furrowed. Not a good sign.

“Just fine?” She asked. Her voice went up a pitch. “It’s just fine? Really?”

“Really.”

She unlaced her fingers and spread out her hands as if gesturing to something, but all that surrounded them was Mithrun’s under-decorated living quarters. There was really nothing to gesture at besides the wooden cabinets and the bed. Mithrun waited, aware that she was picking through her piles of thoughts— probably thoughts mixed with screams of frustration— to find the right words.

Finally, Pattadol forced a shaken smile, “It’s clear to anyone that knows you that you’re in love with them, Captain.”

That was what she decided to say? It was a bit blunt for Pattadol’s usual style. Mithrun only shrugged, “Yeah, you’re right. It’s pretty obvious.”

“So why haven’t they noticed yet?”

“Why do you care?”

“Because I want you to be happy for once!” Pattadol snapped, but she then took a deep breath, “Sorry, Captain, I didn’t mean to sound that way. This is hard for me, talking so openly about these things… But it’s so frustrating to watch.”

Mithrun could understand that. While he personally wasn’t frustrated by the circumstances, he knew that the Canaries couldn’t stand watching his interactions with you. It wasn’t a big deal in the long run, in his opinion. They’d get over it.

“Thank you,” he answered.

“Do you have any ideas on how we can do that?”

“Do what?”

Pattadol’s eye twitched ever so slightly. Her fingers tensed like claws, and Mithrun felt the corner of his lips turn up in a barely-there smirk. But genuinely, he wasn’t sure what she referred to. Did she mean the part about him being happy, or the part about you being oblivious? She should’ve been more clear.

“About…” she hesitated. Obviously she wasn’t sure what she meant either. She then nodded as if deciding, “About everything. About the obliviousness, your happiness, etcetera.”

He didn’t know what the etcetera referred to, but didn’t care to ask. “You don’t have to do anything,” Mithrun assured her as he leaned back in the chair and folded his arms. The wood creaked slightly from the movement. Everything on this boat creaked, as was the nature of boats, he guessed.

“I would like to do something,” Pattadol nodded, determined. “We all would.”

A shrug, “Alright. Then do something.”

- Pattadol, over-achiever and top student and certified Girl Who Cares Too Much, takes that as a challenge.

- Cithis only joins because she thinks it’ll be funny.

- Fleki also only joins because she thinks it’ll be funny.

- And Lycion also also joins because he thinks it’ll be funny (though he does care on some level. Not really about you, but about Mithrun. And it’s painful to watch.)

- Otta is forced to join.

- The attempts are weak at first, like dipping a toe into the water to see how cold it is. Mithrun only has so much patience for interference with his life, so they have to be smart and tread carefully.

- Pattadol gives Mithrun a hint. “There’s some pretty flowers growing beside the road over there. You should give one to them!”

- “What would they need a flower for?”

- Mithrun asks that on purpose. He knows precisely what he’s doing. Yes, people generally like receiving flowers, he knows that. But he also believes that flowers are useless gifts.

- “Then what present do you suggest?” Pattadol asks.

- Mithrun has an idea. He gets you soap. Everybody uses soap (hopefully) It’s a useful gift, and if he gives you the same kind he uses then he’ll get some weird sick flicker of pleasure from having his scent on you. (He wisely chooses to not say that part aloud.)

You held the little bar of soap in your hands as if it were an injured baby bird you found on the ground. Yet your feelings towards it were far from protective or empathetic. This soap said something. It had a mouth and it used it to scream.

You met Mithrun’s flat gaze, “Soap…”

He nodded, “Yeah. Soap. It’s a gift for you.”

For you?

Mithrun continued, “It’s the same kind I use. Smells the same.”

It felt as if you’d swallowed a handful of pebbles and they all had gotten stuck in your throat. “Do you… think I’m stinky?”

You cursed yourself for even asking that. What a useless question. Obviously, he thought you stank! He gave you soap! He was trying to tell you something, being subtle and polite for once! Usually Mithrun would just say it bluntly, but he’d been working on his desires lately. Perhaps he’d also decided to embrace societal expectations? You weren’t sure. But soap. Soap!

You didn’t notice how Mithrun tensed. You didn’t see him quickly blink several times and tilt his head. You didn’t see the slight widening of his good eye. “No, I—“

“I’ll go use this right now,” you interrupted, “I’ll go wash away my stench so you can finally stand to be near me.”

Despite the horror, you were a bit proud of yourself. You’d taken a hint, maybe you were getting less oblivious.

- In your defense, a bar of soap is a weird gift.

- Alright. Mithrun admits it, he needs help. He’s not so prideful anymore that he won’t admit that he doesn’t know what to do.

- Pattadol is really triumphant about that but does her best not to show it.

- Plan B: make it so obvious that you have no choice but to realize his feelings.

“This has to be the most physically uncomfortable I’ve felt in a very long time,” Mithrun said as he tugged at the ends of the fancy, over-decorated blouse the Canaries had put him in. “I honestly prefer Cithis’s frilly dresses.”

Which was saying something. Mithrun had a preference? That was a good sign.

“It makes you look handsome,” Pattadol said.

“The only thing it makes me is itchy,” he corrected.

The Canaries had somehow found a blouse— not a shirt or tunic, a blouse— that made Mithrun feel something other than indifference. He usually didn’t care about what he wore, as long as it was comfortable, but the clothes they’d stuffed him into were offensive to human-kind, like vegan bacon.

It had a big frill on the front and puffy sleeves. It was somehow both too flowy and too tight at the same time. The trousers weren’t much better, digging into his legs. And the shoes…

Mithrun didn’t want to talk about the shoes.

It was clear to him that Fleki and Cithis had only contributed to the outfit because they thought it would be amusing. Good for them, he supposed. Pattadol seemed to genuinely like it, Otta looked horrified, and Lycion was in some in between state where he wanted to show pity but couldn’t quite stifle his giggles.

“Remind me again what the point of this is?” Mithrun asked with a sigh.

“We got them to agree to a date!” Pattadol said, grinning, “I said outright ‘it’s a date’ so there would be no confusion. I made it clear that the date was with you. Now, if you show up looking like a million gold with a bouquet of flowers, they’ll get the hint.”

Mithrun did not want to do that.

Mithrun rarely wanted to do anything, but this just felt wrong. In his opinion, the relationship between you and him would develop naturally in a way that fit both of your personalities. He didn’t mind waiting for you to realize his intentions, he had time. As long as you didn’t fall in love with someone else, and didn’t stop him from staring at you or touching you, then he wasn’t in a rush.

But since the Canaries insisted, seeming to think that this was the right course of action, he would go along with it. Maybe it would be an utter disaster and Pattadol would realize that she knew very little about relationships— especially a relationship involving Mithrun. He was aware enough of himself to know that it wouldn’t be conventional.

With his hair pulled back into a tight ponytail and the ridiculous outfit on, Mithrun entered the restaurant Pattadol had chosen. He found you immediately. You sat in a chair with your elbow on the table and your ankles crossed, waiting.

Mithrun held a bouquet of pink roses as he approached. You lit up when you saw him, but your brows then furrowed.

“Where’s Pattadol?” You asked.

His stride faltered, “She isn’t coming.”

“Oh,” you shrugged, “well since she set this up I assumed she’d be here.”

Why would she be here? It was a date Pattadol had set up for you and Mithrun specifically.

You probably didn’t know it was a date, he realized. Pattadol thought she’d been clear by saying ‘it’s a date’ but failed to realize that that was just a common phrase among people and meant nothing to no one.

Calm, he slid into the seat across from you and watched as you raised a brow, “What’re you wearing?” You asked.

“My team picked it out for me.”

“You look like you’re part of an opera or a ballet, like you’re about to stand beneath a balcony and start spouting poetry to your lover.”

That was a good description, actually. Those were the words Mithrun had been looking for earlier when he saw himself in the mirror.

He nodded, “Yep.” Then, wordlessly, he held out the bouquet to you.

Your eyes widened, “For me?”

“I’m handing them to you, aren’t I?”

Gingerly, you took the flowers and held the stem of the wrapped bouquet with both hands as you inspected each petal.

A flicker of surprising satisfaction ran through his chest. You liked the flowers. It made sense, most people liked flowers, even if he didn’t see why.

You dipped your head down toward them presumably to smell them, but your lips then parted and you dug your teeth into the nearest rose.

Mithrun froze.

You chewed on the rose, your nose wrinkling in disgust. You gave the flower a good shot, a proper taste, but it didn’t take long until you grabbed a napkin and spit up the pink slobbery mess into it.

“Sorry,” you sent him an apologetic smile and tried to hand the bouquet back to him, “they don’t taste that good, and I don’t think I could season or cook them in a way that would help.”

Mithrun knew he was staring. He knew he was making a face, slightly tilting his head down, intensity in his eye. The kind of face someone made when they were internally screaming.

He was not internally screaming, but he was thinking— about you, how your brain worked. And how it was so damn charming for some reason and all he wanted to do was kiss you until he was all you could think about.

He wanted something. The feeling was sweet, a shot of adrenaline, one of Fleki’s drugs. Addictive. Like the slow drip of honey. He could survive off that want for ages.

Wordlessly, Mithrun threw the bouquet over his shoulder to get rid of it. Judging by the gasp that followed, it probably hit someone in the head.

Loving you was as natural to him as breathing.

- Mithrun decides to not let the Canaries interfere any longer. He was wrong earlier in thinking he needed their help. He doesn’t.

- Also, watching them go insane over your obliviousness and his lack of communication provides a good bit of entertainment.

- When he finally decides to give into that all-consuming, new, exciting desire and kiss you, your response is, “But I wasn’t casting a spell, no reason to try and stop me.”

- God, he adores you.

- He takes kisses whenever he wants them, with no care about what you think his intention is.

- After a certain kiss that involves tongue and teeth and fingers digging into your waist, you start to openly wonder… Are you in a relationship with Mithrun?

“Yes,” Mithrun didn’t even glance up at you, remaining unphased by your rather serious question, “We’re in a relationship.”

He continued to jot down notes about a monster he saw, as if he’d just casually answered a question about the weather. ‘Is it going to rain today?’ ‘Yeah looks like it.’

You gulped, “How long?”

“A year now,” he kept writing. Truthfully, he’d been expecting this. A flash of disappointment crossed his mind; there goes one of his hobbies, watching the Canaries have a crisis over his love life.

You buried your face in your hands. Mithrun stopped writing and patted your head as if comforting a dog.

- The Canaries are pleased that this is over. But actually, they’re going to have to watch you not realize it when you’re engaged to the Captain.

- At your wedding you’re in regular clothes. Someone asks why and you say “Mithrun told me we’re going to a wedding. He didn’t say it was ours.”

But the numerous times it just results in a boner in need to be taken care of. So when you leave his apartment to buy some stuff for laters dinner, Yuta is a little relieved he can take care of his painful election without actually leaving you.

So when the day comes you notice his little staring problem, Yuta directly gives in. He admits, he whines silently and he apologizes. But no worries crossed his mind when he felt you moving his hands on them. Making you cup your boobs with your hands over his and giving it several squeezes.

Okkotsu‘s tit obsession of his only gotten worse then, his hands now constantly on the plush flesh as soon as you two are alone. Yuta‘s hands paw at them when he presses himself closer to your body. His favorite has to be touching them while cuddling.

The way the fat of your tits overspills between his fingers after he marked your tits in hickeys must be one of his favorites. He loves to knead them like they’re some kind of stress relieving items personally for him. But he never puts too much force to make it unpleasant for you.

Every massage he gives is a nice experience for the both of you, especially if you have sore tits. Yuta will be extra gentle. A gentle smile creeping up on his face when he lays on your tummy and works your chest with his soft hands. He tries his best to act all normal about it, ignoring how much his cock begs to be rutted against the mattress.

Yuta adores all the reactions he can pull out of your body by simply doing different stuff. Be it teasing your nipple with his thumb while fingering you or having you sit on his face while he gropes your tits, he always notices how your body responds to lacking or added stimulation

Majority or times a needy mouth attaches to them. Starting off with kissing them gently when your boyfriend takes off your bra, having his cheek pressed up against them and resulting in a nipple licked and sucked into his mouth while teasing the other one with pinches, rolls and tugs. Slobbering all over the bud very happily until it’s swollen and puffy, perfect for him to suckle on.

But the very best part remains using his mouth on them. Stimulating your chest while he fucks you missionary when your boyfriend comes back all pent up from a mission. God forbid if he finds out how to make you cum by stimulating your nipples only, he‘ll have his thumb and index finger on your puffy buds all day.

Even non sexual he adores having them in his mouth. Heavy feeling, tired head laying on one breast while the other his sucked into his mouth. Mouthing at your nipple like a pacifier for him to nurse on. It’s so relaxing and if you give him the go, he just goes for it every time he needs a break from something.

Big on topic is also how much it’s comforts him to have a tit in his mouth that lulls him away from Amy anxious feelings he’s having. It’s almost like he nurses for intimacy. The fact that you trust him enough to let him suckle away at your breast is worth so much to him. Falling asleep with a tiddy in his mouth becomes a regular thing for him at some point. Sometimes he even keeps up the suction motion in his sleep throughout the night. Already a worried expression and and apology on his lips when he sees how swollen your nipple got because of him.

Pampering Yuta is a way to instantly get him melting. Letting him suckle and touch your chest like he wants to while peppering small kisses to his head is pure heaven in his opinion. Okkotsu adores your gentleness and hopes for eternity to grant him the wish to be forever in a state like this. Big bonus points if you play with his hair too, he dozes off in a matter of milliseconds.

Very secretly, Yuta has a lactation kink he‘ll never dare to bring up on his own. Far too embarrassed to let you know how desperate he is to taste your milk on his tongue.

Sometimes, Yuta just bites smears wet kisses along the the fatty part of your tit. Languidly sucking and trying hard to place a hickey there. He loves to catch you off guard when he moves up and bites your nipple very softly before giving it a gentle lick. The squeal you let out is so funny to him that he just has to giggle.

Especially when you ride him, Yuta adores watching your tits move with your bounces. His cock only getting harder when he eyes them the whole time and eventually having to grope them, they’re not resistible for him. Jerking him off is no different, he always loves a handjob, but he loves it even more when he gets to suck on your tits while doing so. Shamelessly moaning against them while his spit goes everywhere when he releases on his tummy and your hand.

It’s just second nature that his head finds its way between your soft breasts. Cuddling and nuzzling himself against your chest while getting pampered by you like he deserves.

mdni, every character is 18+

Nagi lazily bucked his hips. "Mommy, what're you..." His eyes were still closed as he bucked again at your touch. "Mommy," he moaned tiredly.

You slowly continued to jack him off, gently gliding your hand up and down his shaft while watching him carefully. Some time in the morning, as you'd gotten up to get ready for the day, Nagi started having a dream that resulted in small whimpers and air humps with a "Mommy, more..." every so often. When you'd gone back to check on him, Nagi was sprawled out on the bed, his hand buried in his pajama pants to hold onto his erection. He wasn't moving or anything like that. No, Nagi was too lazy for even that while he was asleep; but you could tell that he needed something with how desperately he was fucking his hand and the air during his dream. How could you deny your sweet boy? So you set to helping him by sliding back into bed, replacing his hand in his pants with your own. Nagi hardly noticed. He moaned at the touch, but he didn't stir.

"Oh, my poor boy... Are you dreaming about me?"

The longer it went on, though, Nagi began to wake up slightly, his eyes fluttering until they were half-lidded while looking up at you, his brows furrowed. When he realized that it was your hand on him, he moaned again and asked what you were doing.

"Taking care of you, baby," you answered.

His eyes closed again to let you know that you were free to do with him as you pleased.

With no protests from Nagi, you happily pushed his pants down so that you had clearer access to what you were working with, before jerking him off faster and harder, realizing that you didn't have long until you had to leave-- And with how distracting he'd been, you'd completely run out of time to get ready. It was a shame. But he was always more important.

"'m close," he warned quietly.

You leaned down to kiss his sharp jawline. "Let go for mommy, baby. It's okay. You don't have to worry about a thing."

Nagi grabbed the sheets weakly as his stomach tensed and his body froze up entirely. HIs orgasm hit him suddenly. With an abundance of whines and whimpers, he squeezes his eyes shut and started cumming all over his chest. You raked your nails done his stomach to his pubic bone as it happened. Nagi's eyes shot wide as he bucked.

"Mommy--"

Your hand pushed his hips back onto the bed.

"Fuck, thank you, Mommy, thank you, fuck, fuck--"

As his orgasm passed, he relaxed again, his eyes falling shut once more. Like usual, Nagi was expecting you to clean him up while he went back to sleep and you continued to get ready for work; but alas, you had other plans in mind. If he was so inclined to dream of you at night, you'd give him something to dream about all day while you were gone. So you didn't stop. You kept jerking him off with one hand while you brought the other to lay your palm flat on his tip, rubbing back and forth to overstimulate the most sensitive part of his dick.

Suddenly he was up.

Nagi jolted upright, grabbing at your wrists to make you stop, but you stared him down as a warning to go back to sleeping and let you be because you knew what was best for him— You’ve always known. But he couldn’t give in. He was sitting there squirming, biting his lip while trying desperately to catch his breath because he knew that he had to endure it. He knew that you wouldn’t stop ‘til you’re content.

“Mommy, please!” he begged so pathetically. “Please, please, please!”

“Please, what?”

“I can’t—“ He slumped on his back. “It’s too much.”

You slowed your hands gently before coming to a stop. “Good boy.”

He blushed at the praise. “If you wanted me to wake up, you could have just said so.”

“That’s not as fun.”

You leaned down to lick the cum off his stomach. He whimpered at the warm, wet touch that run along his midriff.

–-

You had suggested painting him nude while you were both in bed, lazing around. You’re in each other’s hold, Leon’s arms around your waist and face on your chest when he asks about any new projects you had in mind. 

He loves hearing about what art piece you were doing or planned to do. It was how you expressed yourself, whether there was a deeper meaning or none at all. He found it beautiful. Every work you do it had a bit of your personality in it. He could tell your work from thousands by the intricate details they carry. 

When you told Leon you wanted to paint him, he wasn’t too surprised. You mentioned he was your favourite thing to draw or think of when you had art block. The admission had left him sputtering, his face red as he tried to get his words out.

On the third date, you showed him your sketchbook, pages littered with drawings and portraits of him. Some were quick sketches, while other’s looked like you took time to get every detail of him. 

You’re always on my mind, Leon. You had confessed. Was it a little creepy? At that moment, flipping through the drawings of him, the attention to detail they held, he’d say it was romantic.

People have always said he was pretty as a picture, yet you’re the only one that makes his heart beat faster and his tummy fill with butterflies when you say he’s the type of gorgeous you’d find in a painting. 

“A nude painting,” you specify. It was as if you told Leon he was the object of your affection for the first time again. His head buries into your chest, trying to hide his flushed face. You smile at his sudden bashfulness. 

“It’s nothing I haven’t seen before, baby.” You run your fingers through his soft hair. “I want to try something new, but it’s okay. I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

“‘S fine, angel. But can’t you use a picture?”

“Where’s the fun in that, pretty boy.”

He groans, muffled by your shirt, and you giggle. 

He loves to please you — in more ways than one — and nothing compares to the smile that graces your face, so he agrees. It’s not like Leon’s uncomfortable with you looking at him bare and vulnerable. There were other problems he was worried would interrupt your craftwork. 

–-

Leon leans back into the couch, doing just as you instructed. His bare back hits the soft cushioning, and it’s surprisingly comfortable. 

His robe is off, on the floor next to your easel. He rests his chin on his hand, supported on the arm of the couch.

He’s nervous. You said it’s nothing you haven’t seen before, but this almost feels more intimate than being intertwined with you in bed.

Maybe it’s the gaze you hold when you’re analysing him, grasping the compositions and layering basic shapes onto the canvas. 

He can’t help but think of when you told him he’s your favourite canvas to mark up. Sucking the reddish marks into his skin which turn the prettiest shade of purple, as you like to put it. Or when you said the colour on his cheek was your favourite shade of pink.

You always did like to rile him up, muttering the filthiest things to him in the most mundane setting, just like right now. 

“Spread your legs wider, Leon.” You mumble in a casual tone as if you don’t know the implications of your own words. You’re so engrossed with getting your work right you probably don’t.

It’s so fucking sexy seeing you in your element. Your brows pinched together, and your face serious with concentration. 

He obediently listens to you, parting his legs wide, and the problem he wishes wouldn’t happen is currently hardening between his thighs. You don’t notice, mixing paints to ensure it's the correct shade. 

You’re probably 30 minutes into painting, and he’s already hard. You said you’d take a while to finish, and he could tap out whenever he wants to, but he doesn’t want to disappoint. 

Finally, you’re looking up from the canvas and towards Leon. Your brows quirked up in surprise when trying to examine his features, studying the curve of his nose and the sharpness of his jawline to imitate on the canvas. His face is pink, the shade you know and adore so much. 

Your eyes trail down his body, his dick fully erect, slapping against his stomach. Your gaze is on his face again with a smirk on your lips.

He knows, you know, he’s rock-hard simply from the glances you take at him and the words you mutter. His lashes flutter, and he moves his hand to cover his face while the other is shamefully obscuring his cock.

“Be a good boy, and don’t move, Leon. I want to make sure everything looks good.” You say, and he thinks you aren’t going to acknowledge his 7-inch problem.  

“Oh, and make sure your pretty dick is hard for me, okay, baby?” You go back to your painting, trying to hide your smug expression.  

His adam’s apple bobs as he swallows his nerves, but he relents, going into position, not before giving his cock a firm squeeze. 

“Don’t cum too, okay? I want to be the one making you cry.”

A few hours pass, and Leon is on the verge of tears. He listened to what you said, only providing himself with enough stimulation to keep his cock hard but not enough to tip him over the edge into bliss. 

Precum leaks from the head down to the shaft. His dick is red and spent. He wants nothing more than for you to stop painting and make him cum.

“I’m almost done. You’ve been such a good boy for me, baby.” 

Your words are almost enough to make him spill his cum over the expensive fabric of your eccentric couch. 

You’re adding the finishing touches to the painting with each stroke, making sure you get the placement of each mole or freckle correct and each vein of his cock following to the tip right. 

You swear he belongs in a museum. No art can replicate how beautiful he truly is.

“I’m done.” You sigh, moving to get up to rid your skin of paint. 

After rinsing yourself off the paint, you make your way to Leon. You get comfortable in a seat on the couch right next to him. He’s breathing heavily in anticipation, looking up at you through his long lashes. Pretty, pink lips parted as pretty gasps left him. 

You cup his face, pressing your lips to his. The kiss is soft as you move your lips slowly in unison. He breathes out your name when you pull away. One of your hands moves to his throat, softly squeezing. Leon whimpers, his hands moving to hold your waist.

“Good job, baby. You didn’t cum once. I know it hurts, but I'm going to make you feel better,” you whisper, softly kissing his flushed forehead. 

Your hand moves to his pulsing cock, and gives it a soft squeeze, relishing the whine Leon lets out. Your touch sends goosebumps along his skin, and he plants his head into the crook of your neck. 

His hips eagerly buck into your hold. He’s practically sobbing into your neck, his soft hair tickling the underside of your jaw. You rest your chin on top of his head, smelling the fragrance of his shampoo. 

You thumb the slit on the tip of his cock, using his precum as a lubricant to start moving your hand back and forth on his shaft. 

You start at a slow pace. You don’t want Leon cumming quickly, wanting to enjoy every cry and whimper. 

The soft shlick noise of you jerking Leon’s cock fills the room with his desperate cries. He pulls back away from the crook of your neck, tears flowing down his blushing face.

“Please, please, please, g– go faster, angel. I’ve been such a good boy for you. Let me cum, please.”  He pleads, looking at you with those puppy dog eyes. His hips rutted frantically into your palm. How could you deny your boy?

“Okay, pretty baby. Cum for me.” You say softly, picking up the pace of jerking him off.

He whimpers loudly, thighs quivering lightly as his orgasm crashes and hot spurts of his cum spill onto your hand. He’s panting, dazed with lust and staring at you with what seems like hearts in his eyes. 

“T- thank you, thank you, s’much.” Leon gasps like a broken record, and you think he’s fucked himself dumb with your hand.

You peck his lips, effectively shutting him up.

“Let’s get you cleaned up so I can show you my favourite artwork yet.”

Just thinking about the way Puppy!Leon has been begging you all day to give him some attention. Normally you’d find it adorable, but today it was just annoying. Deciding to teach him a lesson in patience you look over to him with the sweetest smile you can muster.

“Ok, Baby. Do you need some attention that badly? Fine, I’ll give you my undivided attention then.”

The words alone have him so eager you could see the wet spot forming in his boxers, ears perked up and tail thumping hard against the couch with each excited wag. It almost hurt you knowing the disappointment that was about to befall him.

You sink yourself down on his hard weeping cock and instantly see the relief on his face. He goes to buck upwards and you stop him, head tilted to the side in confusion as he waits for you to move. When you stay put like a stone he whines. You steady yourself on his shoulder, leaning forward to get comfortable. “Show me you can be a good boy, no moving.”

“But why?!” He asked with a pout.

“Because you were bad, bugging me all day. Now you’re going to learn a lesson.” Bringing your hand up you rubbed your thumb over his cheek comfortingly. His ears flattened downward a little and you could tell it was taking every ounce of his willpower to stay put and not rut up into you like he was feral. Despite that desperate look in his eyes, you made yourself comfortable in your spot, placing kisses down his neck and wherever your lips could reach.

Every now and then your gummy walls would flutter around his cock and he’d let out the smallest whimper. “Patience, Baby.” You say with a little chuckle as you rub his back of his neck soothingly. “You’re so close to learning your lesson, just a little longer.”

A little longer must’ve felt like an eternity to him, you could see him gently grabbing at the couch cushions, each suck on his skin and tweak of his nipples had his cock twitching desperately for more friction. His whimpering began to evolve into desperate pleas and panting.

“Hng….C’mon baby. Please, I need you so badly.” He begged. “I’m sorry, I promise I’ll be good from now on..”

You responded by slowly rolling your hips against his. “I’m not so sure I believe that puppy.” The sensation had his head falling back, mouth agape at the sweet, sweet friction he’d so desperately been craving. “But you’ve been good so far, so I think you deserve a little treat.”

You rock your hips back and forth a little faster, soaking in the heady moans that start low in his throat. Sucking on his Adam’s apple, a choked mewl leaves him – music to your ears.

“God, yes baby. Yes!” He cries as you move from rolling to bouncing until you’re full on riding him. Each drop of your body has him getting louder and louder, knuckles becoming white with his grip on the fabric below him. He’s so blissfully fucked out, and you’ve never seem him so beautiful.

Dwight

Favorite position: usually whatever position has you on top of him.

But if he has to pick one than you sitting on his lap, your arms cradling the back of head, holding him close to your chest as he gently rocks up into you.

For volume, he’s generally pretty average, leaning a bit towards the quiet side.

This is also partly because he’s usually got his face against your skin, trying to muffle his needy sounds

Some Kinks:

Light Dom/Sub

Dwight likes to be submissive but it’s not necessary for his sexual pleasure. That being said, it really gets him going when someone is willing to take the lead or tell him what to do.

Oral

Dwight LOVES oral. He’s more of a receiver than a giver, but he certainly doesn’t mind giving. His favorite oral position is probably the giver kneeling, with the receiver’s standing and leaning back on a wall.

Aesthetics

Dwight adores a solid aesthetic. Doesn’t exactly matter what the aesthetic is. Goth? Loves it. Princessy? Loves it. Even if it’s just a certain color aesthetic, he loves it. He does have a particular fondness for business aesthetics or other strong leader like roles though.

High 👏 Heels 👏

Put high heels on and watch this man’s brain B R E A K. Literally incapable of coherent thought. It’s like you hypnotized him. You could ask him to do anything in that moment and he’d do it. He’s absolutely helpless. If you wanted to torture him a bit, run the heel up his cock or down his chest. He will make such pretty noises if you do.

Leon (Dbd/Re2)

Favorite position: something intimate and close.

Missionary is nice but he prefers to be spooning you, both of you on your sides as he thrusts into you from behind.

For volume, Average leaning into the loud zone.

I mean, have you HEARD his Dbd whimpers? That’s just how he sounds in bed, maybe a bit quieter.

Some kinks:

Hair Pulling

Pull his pretty hair. Do it. He’s weak to it. His ultimate favorite thing is him kneeling before you and you using your grip on his hair to yank his head back. He will cum from this.

Edging

Leon is a whimpering writhing mess if you edge him, bordering on tears after only a few times. But despite how hard it is for him, his best orgasms happen while being edged.

PRAISE

Tell him how good he is for you. How well he’s doing. Tell him that he’s making you feel so good. He just becomes this little puppy, so eager to please.

Spanking

Leon likes to be spanked. Even if it’s just a few smacks to his ass or thighs in particular. He doesn’t like it too hard, but he’s really just willing to take whatever you want to give him.

Vittorio

Favorite position: Whatever has you both on somewhat equal ground

He likes holding you up against a wall, your legs around his waist, foreheads touching as he plows up into you.

For Volume, he’s around about average.

More of a grunter than a moaner, unlike Dwight and Leon.

Some kinks:

Body Worship

Vittorio strikes me as the type of person that can’t help but marvel at the beauty of human bodies, and especially at the body of someone he loves. He wants to worship you, treat you like the god he thinks you are.

Angry sex

For as much of a pacifist as Vittorio is, he loathes to admit that arguing with his partner is something that gets him going easily. Not to mention that Vittorio is naturally more attracted to people who are stubborn or more engaged with their anger. (A case of opposites attract)

Piercings

To be more specific, he loves nipple piercings. The first time he ever saw them, his brain just shut down completely. Over time he learned that he enjoyed other piercings as well, such as lip piercings (he loves the feel of the metal when he kisses you)

Light Masochism-ish

When it comes to smut by itself, I think it can be hard to discern Yandere! specific actions, but I definitely think if you crank those things up to 10 in obsessiveness, obnoxiousness, and frequency it can definitely be Yandere!. Here's some of the things that immediately come to mind to me: 🖤Can we say NEEEEEEDDDYY! Obviously he's obsessed with you, so your attention is all for him. "Baby, touch me please." Or "C'mon baby, please let me make you feel good. Wanna make you feel sooo good." Constantly, while he bashes those pretty blues at you, because what else could you be doing that's more important than giving him attention? He'd absolutely guilt-trip and gaslight you until you give in to playing with him, even if it results in some 'funishments' on his end and disruptions to things like your zoom meetings, phone calls, or going out of the house.

🖤 Brats it up for sure, testing those rules. Not supposed to touch himself? Ok. Catch him grinding against you, the couch, a pillow, using your panties, especially using your panties. He'd always make sure to be caught. Technically you didn't say he couldn't, but he knows that's pushing the rules, doesn't matter though since he's got your attention now. "Sorry baby, just missed you so much, couldn't help myself" or "Look how hard I am it hurts, need you."

🖤 Loves praise from you and only you, so he'll happily follow any commands if it means he has your focus. Want him between your legs? Done. Wanna sit on his face? Done. Slow down. Speed up. Done. Done. Edge him until he can't take it anymore? Sure - as long as you're focused on him and telling him how good he's being. If he thinks you're not giving him enough attention, catch him doing something like giving you an extra lick or suck here and there to overstim you back into noticing him. 🖤 Would absolutely make any toys that you use disappear because he's the only toy you need.

🖤 Simply obnoxious around other people, will do all he can to act out and annoy you into leaving with him so it can be just the two of you again. Things like putting your hand on his clothed erection under the dinner table while giving you the cutest pouty look, then whining just enough that you can tell people notice something is going on, but not enough to full on get their attention. Would absolutely bluff about getting worse though to embarrass you until you gave in. (This is if he hadn't found away to stop you from going out in the first place.) And if he's desperate enough, he might not be bluffing.

🖤 I don't think he'd like any kind of mean dom. He needs your undying love and affection so if you were mean to him it would absolutely crush him, or worse, he might think you prefer someone else and who ever that is might disappear - yikes. You could say he was "being bad" and that's why he can't cum yet. But if you said something like "wanna fuck me with that useless cock?" you'd get the saddest face ever. It's not useless, it's literally there for your pleasure!! 🥺

🖤 Not that any punishments really work, but ignoring him is the absolute worst. Ya know how they say if you ignore bad behavior it will stop? Not with Yandere! Leon, that's just begging for him to amp things up. All that tells him is he's not doing enough to get your attention and affections -- he is persistent, you won't win that battle.

🖤 Vocal as hell. You give him pleasure or guide him through touching himself, he's going to be making the best noises you've ever heard. He takes note of this though, if there's ones you react to or seem to like more he will absolutely amp those specific ones up or start with them off the bat to keep your attention. 🖤 LOVES being reminded that he's yours. Because duh of course he is!!! Only he's worthy of being yours!! You don't need anyone else silly, and he means anyone else.

"hnngh please- i want you" vash looks at you. his arms around your neck, holding him stable. nuzzling your head into his neck, leaving hickies all over his pale skin. the bed slightly squeaking with every grind. "i just want to be your good boy.. please i've been so so so good" you felt yourself throb. his pleading eyes and his pre-cum all over your thigh.

"come on my pretty boy, cum for me.. i know you can" you whisper in his ear. a gentle bite on his ear.

"i feel it coming, i feel it.. oh god.. oh.. fuck!" vash cums on your chest, seeing his cock continue to spill seconds after the orgasm. vash kisses you, tossing his glasses.

A - AFTERCARE WHAT THEYRE LIKE AFTER THE ACT

completely WIPED once you guys finally stop. in sex vash is always asking for more, sometimes you would have to stop knowing if you continued he wouldn't be able to walk properly the next day. "i can go another round.." vash whispers, laying on your chest. holding your hand. "i'll see, let me think" you tell him. it was really just a trick to make him fall asleep. it works every time. cleaning him up while he slept, sprawled out on the bed

S - STAMINA HOW MANY TIMES THEY CAN GO AND HOW LONG EACH ROUND LASTS

as i said in letter a... he's unstoppable in bed. vash likes to get fucked stupid. even sometimes you would get caught up with him, and next thing you know you look up and the sun is rising. the group wondered where the dark circles under your eyes came from.

"i slept badly" you grumbled out. meanwhile, vash was perfectly fine. besides the soreness between his legs.

H - HAIR GROOMING HABITS

When you open your eyes again, it’s still dark. Your mouth cracks open in a yawn and you slowly become aware of someone pressed up against your back. 

Oh. Oh that’s right.

It had been an exhaustingly long day trekking through the desert, and an even longer evening trying to find a place to stay the night. You have no idea what possessed every abled body in Noman's Land to travel to the same town as you, but every room in the dusty motel next to the bar was taken. Even the porch swing had some poor soul wrapped up in his coat for the night.

You and Vash were about to call it and take turns sleeping in a nearby alley, when an old woman took pity on you and offered up her spare room. You were so excited to sleep in a real bed that you didn’t even think to ask about the size of the space.

It wasn’t until the both of you had finally gotten into the tiny, very much intended for one person or two people squished very close together bed, that you realized how incredibly awkward the whole situation is.

“Hey-”

“WELL GOODNIGHT” You had blurted out, turning so that your back was to Vash, hiding your flustered expression. He is a little too good at reading your face sometimes, and you didn’t need him asking questions.

He replied with a quiet goodnight, feeling him shift away as well.

Now, Vash’s breath is hot on the back of your neck as he snores lightly, his spiky hair tickling your skin. Sometime in the night, his arms found their way around your middle and pulled you flush against his chest, securing you in place.

This particular scenario had been one you’ve played in your head on loop anytime the two of you had slept close to one another. It’s like a dream come true. And any other time, you would have nestled back into his hold and fell back asleep, hoping that this action was intentional; but instead, you silently curse yourself for chugging a whole gallon of water after arriving in town. Because my god you have to pee.

He stirs slightly when you shift, hugging you closer and burying his face into your shoulder. You feel yourself growing hot as he lets out a content sigh, lips ghosting over your skin. It quickly becomes clear that you’re not escaping without waking him.

“Vash…” You whisper his name softly, not wanting to alarm him. “Vash?”

“Hmm?” he hums, breathing in deeply. Vash lifts his head and loosens his grip slightly. You take this opportunity to turn and meet his eyes. They’re droopy with sleep, blinking a bit. He gives you a lazy smile before whispering, “hi.”

“Uh hi.” Your heart rate picks up at the sight before you, and you swallow hard. “Could you um…”

“Hm?” It takes a moment for him to register the kind of position you are in. “Oh. OH SORRY.” Vash squeaks with wide eyes, releasing you quickly with a growing blush on his face. Getting out of the bed in a hurry as an attempt to hide your own flustered state, you almost miss the deflated look he gives when you’re no longer next to him. 

“Everything alright?”

“Yeah yeah. Just ya know…bathroom.”

“Right right.”

You quietly make your way to the bathroom, making sure not to wake your host who slept soundly in the room next to yours. Part of you wanted to rush to get back, feeling chilly after leaving the warm bed and Vash’s arms. You hide your burning face in your hands as his smile flashes in your mind.

He’s just so…ATTRACTIVE. Ever since you realized you had fallen for him, it has been increasingly harder to hide your feelings. Any time he touches you (which is a considerable amount when running from danger) has your brain short-circuiting and your stomach doing flips. Sometimes you can’t help but wonder if Vash is really this oblivious, or if he is ignoring it to save you both the embarrassment of a rejection. Either way, you aren’t sure if you’re ready to face the truth just yet.

Maybe if I take long enough he’ll fall back asleep and it won’t have to be weird.

After a considerable amount of time pacing the bathroom, you finally make the short walk back to the spare bedroom.

To your slight disappointment, Vash is asleep by the time you slip back into the bed next to him. His face is calm, a stark contrast to the way his brows furrow together during an intense confrontation, and you take a moment to admire his face in the moonlight. You brush a few hairs back from his forehead and immediately freeze when his eyes flutter open.

“Hi” he whispers a second time.

Pulling your hand back, you feel your face grow hot again. “Sorry, didn’t mean to wake you twice.”

“It’s okay: Vash replies, smiling softly.

You continue to stare at each other, both unsure of what to say next. It’s subtle, but you start to see a blush creep up Vash’s neck and reach the tips of his ears.

“Um” Vash is the one to break the silence, reaching for you. “Can I…?”

“Yes” you answer immediately, scooting your body closer to his.

“Does that make this weird?”

You let out a laugh. "You just caught me watching you sleep and you think this is weird?"

“Fair enough" Vash laughs with you. "But are you sure?”

“Absolutely.”

“Oh okay good” He breathes out a sigh in relief, pulling you completely into him. Feeling his body relax against yours, you tuck your head up under his chin, ear pressed against his chest. You swear his heart is pounding as intensely as your own.

“So warm” Vash mumbles into your hair. You let out a content hum, allowing sleep to overtake you once more.

BONUS

Some general headcanons:

Man sleeps like a ROCK with you

Very used to having to wake up and jet at any moment so I assume he’s a light sleeper. But with you next to him? His body finally allows him to get those good Zs.

Clingy af

Good luck escaping Vash’s arms in the middle of the night. Once he has latched on, you won’t be free until morning.

Will 110% snore lightly in your ear

mumbles in his sleep too. Usually you can’t make out what he is saying though.

Loves any cuddling positions, but his FAVORITES are any where you are the one holding him.

Vash always wants you to play with his hair. Legit will turn to putty in your hands if you scratch his scalp.

Sometimes will even nuzzle into your shoulder to get you to do it because he’s too embarrassed to ask

If you need some extra comforting at night, maybe you had a nightmare or something particularly scary happened that day, he will lay you on his chest and softly hum/sing until you fall asleep. (I honestly think Vash would have a really nice singing voice)