#(nothing happens i promise- its just stated that something happened)

[pellowinksx]

Hey Pellow, hope you're doing great. I recently found your blog and it has been so inspiring, I read your posts almost everyday either for motivation or just for funsies. So thanks so much for being so clear.

I had a question based on something personal happening with me and I wanted your opinion. So I understand that negative thoughts about my specific manifestation should be flipped and that circumstances don't matter. I completely get that, the thing is I don't have negative thoughts about my manifestation, I don't contradict them, HOWEVER, I have negative thoughts about other things like stuff ppl would've done or said to me in the past (unrelated to my manifestation), so I guess I'm asking if that would affect it even though I believe that it wouldnt. But is that related to self concept?

I also wanted your opinion because I like how you relate manifestation to your religion, I'm a Catholic, but I do have a strong appreciation for the Muslim religion and try to understand it as much as possible, so yeah let me know if what I said makes sense.

Thank you ❀(*´▽`*)❀♡

oh hii! this is so interesting actually I had to sit and think with this one for a while ♡♡

so I personally think it does not affect literally anything that has to do with your desire, unless it makes you think you cant have them. and the reason why I think this is because;

I held myself back for a while trying so hard to make myself the perfect confident baddie bombshell hottie that the community told me to be. I was like 13 and trying so hard to be everything I'm not, however I always felt numb to my desires. I didn't think I couldn't get them but I didn't think of myself as god (obviously, I'm muslim) nor did I think I was some queen.

before I had even changed my appearance, a lot of people perceived me as pretty, lots of girls would talk behind my back and dislike me out of jealousy. and it made me realize who I am in other peoples eyes. I have autism so it was hard for me to perceive myself. Until I realized I can just create someone and become them.

A lot of people perceived me as confident and pretty and bubbly. but I saw myself as someone dull and stoic. because thats who I really was, I just put on a show infront of my friends and peers

(this sounds like a vent but bear with me girl I promise it'll make sense)

I realized that I was never insecure, I was always confident and comfortable with myself. I just didn't think of myself as some high and almighty being. the internet tells you that you're god and you're a queen and people should bow down and kiss your feet. which is cool, if you're into that khalas. however I think that can lead you to arrogance which can cause you to sin

(I am not trying to impose limiting belief I am saying personal experiences from a religious person)

confidence can look like being numb to people who suggest you're something lower, confidence can look like ignoring bad thoughts about yourself. confidence can literally just be yourself being an existing being. Because you don't need to all day everyday act like you're the shit and you're better than everyone if you don't want to.

the negative thoughts I used to tell myself even before realizing I was perceived as someone I should be, NEVER interrupted my life experiences. it never imposed on my manifestations, friendships, appearance, none of it. Because as humans we have ups and downs. we go through phases, we go through hate cycles. and thats OKAY. literally there is nothing wrong with hating yourself for 2 hours and then thinking you're the shit its OK. we, (especially as women) go through conflicting feelings all the time throughout the day.

Where am I trying to go with this?

self concept doesn't matter and it honestly never has. it all just goes back to the state you dwell on. YOU give meanings to states YOU give meanings to thoughts however its always netural. so if you think about the past, and be like "oh well maybe I couldn't" thats okay...because you still can. the self concept part comes automatically, after you keep affirming and telling yourself you have something your mind will finally click and be like "wait I'm goated" the law always works. You arent above the law sweetie. one opposing thought doesn't cancel out a dominant state. its like this->

𐀪 thinking "netural thought"

𐀪 thinks a thought that opposes it "netural thought canceler"

𐀪 continues with its day and decides to keep thinking "netural thought"

whatever state you TURN TO again and again will manifest. THATS THE LAW

I'm so sorry if this was long and confusing and dumb but the short answer is no, it will not affect your manifestation. we do not need to be in "high vibrations" 24/7 we just need to say "I have it" and keep saying that over and over.

ciao+kisses! -pellow ♪(^∇^*)

[bibleofficial]

failed state

[hyuneflix]

THE CURE 0.2 • Bang Chan

sex therapist!chan x client!reader after years of unhappy endings, your friend suggests a trip to sydney's most up and coming sex therapist. you hadn't expected much, least of all to discover the cure you'd been looking for all this time was your therapist himself.

word count: 13k << back to dash // next episode >>

CONTENT WARNINGS

𐙚 - female masturbation, mutual masturbation, vibrator use, guided masturbation, dirty talk, use of "slut" and similar terms, chan is called sir, light degradation, light spanking, slapping, more orgasm denial, fingering, oral both female and male receiving, sub!reader, soft dom!chan but some hard dom too, slightly possessive chan, praise, very tiny breeding kink in the form of chan pushing his cum inside her.

! - inappropriate relationship dynamic (chan is her sex therapist), reader is written to be neurodivergent though it isn't explicitly stated, therapy talk/setting, descriptions of self help and healing, brief mention of toxic positivity and dissociation, very brief description of reader having a difficult childhood, talk about hopelessness and feelings of defeat. like last time, everything is intentionally vague but approach with caution all the same.

episode two - a cure for self-dissatisfaction

You couldn’t believe it. You couldn’t believe that you were actually here, again. Making another appointment had sounded so promising in the after-glow of your first ever orgasm–or, at least, the first that felt like that–but now that you were actually here you questioned your sanity. How could you possibly face him after that phone call? Sure, it had been an entire month since then, plenty of time to get over it or just cancel the one-hour slot. You never did, though, and you still couldn’t quite decide why. Was it him that you wanted to see again? So entirely unable to close this chapter of your life now that he’d suddenly made its contents more interesting; turning the pages of your life from dull shades of black and white into hues of technicolour.

Or, maybe it was just that. He made things interesting and you needed interesting.

You weren’t sure when it had happened, the manner with which your fairytale life had twisted and morphed into something so mundane. You had the fancy beachside apartment, the dream job with the fun co-workers. You had the nice clothes and the sparkling jewels to go with them; large wardrobe full to the brim with rare pieces and garaments alike. Even your dating life had been exciting, meeting famous faces and well-off suitors in the upscale establishments you frequented with your friends. But it wasn’t enough. You feared nothing would ever be enough. Nothing exciting enough, glamorous enough, expensive enough to fill the growing feeling of indifference that threatened to paint your entire world grey. 

A part of you liked familiarity, needed it, even. Clung to it in the same way you gripped the straps of your favourite tote bag. It was comforting to ease the unknowns of life with something habitual and constant. But when you did settle, when the anxiety did dissipate, it was like you almost missed it in its absence. It was the adrenaline you craved rather than the anxious wracking of your brain; the adrenaline that followed every redundant fear your mind conjured up; the push of chemicals through your veins as you murmurred ‘oh fuck, am i going to miss my train?’, ‘shit did i leave the stove on?’, ‘did i have a meeting today or was that tomorrow?.’ The bubbling of nervous adrenaline, it was like a shot of espresso, or the abrupt sound of your morning alarm clock. It forced you back to reality, tore you from the prison your restless thoughts built around your consciousness.

Chan had been that too in a lot of ways, a rude awakening of sorts. He had astounded you in more ways than one, tearing you from normalcy and forcing you from your comfort zone in the process. No longer just floating through life while your mind hummed with restless noise. Perhaps that was why, despite every anxious part of you that wanted to run away from him, a deeper, unheard part refused. You’d regret it, wouldn’t you? Walking away from him, vowing to never see him again. You’d regret it almost instantly no doubt, the tick of your apartment’s clock taunting you as it reminded you where you should’ve been on the day of your cancelled appointment. Your mind would trap you again, filling your head with thoughts of what could’ve been, should’ve been, if you’d just pulled yourself together. 

That was of course without mentioning that you indeed remained uncured. You were still very much afflicted with the same inability to get yourself off no matter how hard you tried. You’d done it once, you so foolishly believed from that moment onwards it would be easy. It was not. Even with the vivid memory of that night playing over and over in your mind like a song caught in a loop, you were back to square one. You needed the dark to find the light. How true that had turned out to be, how unfortunate that your infatuation for your therapist was turning out to be more practical than whimsical. You really did need him. 

The timing of your appointment meant that within moments of your arrival, the doe-eyed receptionist was already hurrying off for her lunch break, insisting that you wait for Dr Bang in his office instead. Dr Bang, hearing her say it almost pulled a laugh from your parted lips; what a suitable name for someone in his profession. She didn’t join in with your amused half-chuckle as she gathered her purse and coat. You didn’t blame her, you were sure she’d heard the stifled laughter a million times before. Thanking her one last time as she motioned you toward his office, you pushed open the door expectantly. 

Immediately your eyes fixed on the black oak desk situated in the foreground of the furthest wall. The room was empty, no muscular figure tucked behind the neat workstation, nor situated in the same leather chair he had been a month prior. You breathed out a sigh, your throat finally releasing a breath you hadn’t even realised you’d been holding until you accounted for his absence. You made your way inside, letting the door close behind you with a clack. It felt eerie being in the infinite silence of his abandoned office. Not even the sound of the AC lulled in the background as you wandered throughout the space, taking in the details as if it were your first time being here, and in a way, it was. 

During your last visit you’d been so distracted by Chan you’d been unable to focus on much else, let alone the intricacies of his office. The much too large windows were the first thing you’d noticed, both today and the last. Unlike a month ago they were covered by enormous blinds, the afternoon heat so unbearable today that having the sun exposed would be as sweltering as standing on a shadeless street corner. The lack of AC left the office tepid, and the vacancy of natural light shadowed the once bright room. You felt as if you had stepped into the embrace of a warm hug; one that sucked all the sound from the atmosphere until all that remained was the thumping of your heart.

You could hear it now; your heart. It beat with uncertainty as your eyes trailed across the shelves upon shelves of awards and personal photos behind his desk. You felt like you’d snuck into a secret place you weren’t supposed to be, taking in every detail of someone’s life without an inkling of what any of it meant. One frame held a picture of a smiling boy, a younger girl tucked under his arm in a near chokehold. Judging by the look of disdain on her features, and the mischievous expression on his own, you figured they were siblings. Another picture captured an older version of that boy, one that now more closely resembled Chan. He knelt on the grass, a dog, who’s white fur was blotched with copper-tones, smiled up at him, pink tongue spilling from its mouth. You knew Chan’s life hadn’t started when he met you, but it still felt strange to see it all play out in front of you now. 

The office door opened with a clatter, your body spinning round at the intrusion; trusty tote bag slipping from your arm in the process. You caught hold of the strap before it could fall from your rigid limb completely, eyes settling on Dr Bang himself. He seemed frozen in place, palm clutching the door handle with bleached knuckles. His nervous disposition suggested he’d been preparing himself for this moment, to no avail, and if that were true, you were thankful. At least then you’d be in the same boat. In a second, a mere tick of a clock’s hand, he was back to his usual self, pushing a large smile atop his pillowy lips. 

“Hello, y/n. How have you been?” His voice was soft as he closed the door behind him, the hand that wasn’t clutching a stack of papers flicking on a second set of lights. In an instant the room was engulfed in pale yellow hues, your eyes blinking to adjust. He walked the distance from the door to his desk, letting the pile of papers fall down with a dull thud.

“Could be better, could be worse.” You murmured, still feeling like a deer in headlights. He nodded at this, almost as if he silently understood, agreed even. You didn’t know whether you should stay rooted beside his desk or take a seat, body itching for another of his commands. You hated how badly you wanted him to tell you what to do and how to do it, no matter if it were a simple seating arrangement or one of his filthy, guided masturbations.

“That’s a start, hopefully by the end of the session we can turn it around?” He spoke, tone as level as it had always been, though you noticed how quickly his eyes seemed to wander. It had been impossible last time to look anywhere but him, that intentional and scrutinising stare holding yours for what felt like eternities. His gaze was scattered now, moving from your face to his desk and back again, fingers re-arranging his already neat desk as if attempting to regain control. 

But, regain control of what? His thoughts, his racing heart, his body? You wanted to know. You wanted to crack him open, let the secrets spill from him like yolk. You wanted to study his mind the way he studied you. It was intoxicating, the mystery that still surrounded him. So intoxicating that you were starting to find you didn’t need to get lost in the shadows of his stare, only needed to be close enough to feel the palpable energy, the magnetic charge, that radiated from him like the sun’s unbearable warmth. 

“Should we get started?” He asked, brown eyes leaving the surface of his immaculate desk to search your expression. You nodded, pushing a smile atop your lips as you moved toward the leather chairs, slouching into yours right away. 

You noticed he wasn’t wearing that same dark suit this time, instead he wore a crisp white dress shirt with a few too many buttons undone at the top. The bottom part of it was tucked half-hazardly into a pair of tight ebony trousers. It didn’t remain that way for long. With a raise of his hand–fingers combing through dark curls–one side fell from its confines, a slither of pale skin meeting your hungry gaze. You swallowed, drawing your eyes from his figure as it drew nearer to you, stopping only when he reached the chair opposite you.

“Shall we start with an update?” He questioned, taking a seat while his hand tightened around that same large ipad. “How have you been doing, did you manage to climax again?” 

“No.” You admitted right away, head shaking in disappointment. It was hard to hide how frustrating it was, even more now than before. At least prior to your first happy ending you were none the wiser to how much greener the grass truly was on the other side. Now you’d grazed in it, tasted it, felt it between your fingers and toes. How could you ever return to astro turf after you’d experienced the real thing? 

“No?” Chan looked surprised at this, chin tilting to the side as he drank in your expression. You were sure you looked anything but pleased, brows furrowed as you shook your head no once more. “Okay, did you follow the routine?”

“I did, yeah.” You mumbled, digits playing with the pleats in your skirt.

“What do you think was different?” He asked, looking genuinely curious by your dilemma. 

“Do I even have to say it?” You released a huff of air, heart jumping nervously behind its skeletal confines.

“It would help if you did. Guessing games can lead to miscommunications.” HIs smile was back, dimples pressed prettily against his plush cheeks. How badly you wanted to cup them, how badly you wanted to let the pads of your thumbs brush against the indents that dotted them. How badly you wanted him. 

“I just… I feel like I need your help, you helped so much that time… ever since I haven’t managed it, I mean, what does that tell you?” You asked, heart racing a little faster now, hands growing clammy; thoughts scrambling as you felt your frustration grow. Your situation felt so hopeless, so entirely unfixable. It shouldn’t hurt, but it did. It always would.

So many past relationships flashed across your mind, so many times when you’d watched the partners in your life walk away. Their promises that you’d never be too much, that there was no storm you couldn’t weather together, ground to dust beneath their retreating steps. There had been other issues that ended the relationship of course, not this one, never this one. Yet it still seemed so unbelievably ironic how, try as they might, they never could fix this little problem. How laughable it was that Chan had managed within hours of meeting him. 

“You- you need my help with climaxing?” He seemed taken aback, his innocence almost sending your eyes rolling. How could he be so surprised? Had he not been on that phone call with you after all, had that all been a vivid dream? 

“I think so, yeah.” You opted to speak instead, fingers still playing lazily with your clothing in search of some relief from the awkwardness of the conversation. 

“I’m sure you just need a little direction and practice.” He shook his head, ever the dismissive party out of the two of you. But you knew better now. You’d heard the way he fell apart, heard the things he’d said when all resolve had vanished. He was just as depraved, just as desperate and needy but he hid it well. He cowered behind fabricated boundaries, crossing one and then inventing another. He pushed, and he pushed, but he always found a new way to hold back. You wanted to test that, wanted to make him snap. Was that bad? 

“I’m twenty-five Chan, I think if practice was going to do it I’d have done it by now.” You shook your head, tone uncharacteristically sarcastic as you let your frustrations slip. He winced at this, taken aback by the change in your tone. Easily your annoyance dampened, sigh falling from your lips as quickly as your apology “I’m sorry, that was– I’m just– I feel defeated.” 

“It’s understandable, you don’t need to apologise.” Chan offered you a comforting smile, eyes glimmering with a patient understanding that had you thawing instantly. 

“Can’t you just, I don’t know, tell me what to do. Like give me some direction or something.” You asked, trying to pry more solutions from his all-knowing brain. 

“Like on the phone?” He questioned, palm gliding across his thick thigh as he spoke. You couldn’t help the way your gaze followed its movement, long fingers instantly taking you back to that night. You pictured them wrapped around his length, the wet sound of his desperate, thrusting grip, too much to think about right now. You squirmed in your seat, thighs pushing together in momentary distress. 

“Yeah like then, is there more I can do?” You asked, trying to hide your growing weariness behind another frustrated huff. 

“Perhaps you need to focus on finding ways to relax, maybe you have a problem switching off, moving from one task to the other. If you’re still tense when you’re masturbating then it can be hard to let yourself go.” He was so composed, seemingly so unaware of the way you were breaking down internally. How did he do it? How did he look at you with such easy indifference after that night. Maybe he was just that; indifferent. Maybe you’d been looking at this all wrong. 

“Okay.” You shrugged, barely listening by now.

“You don’t look happy with that.” Chan pushed for an answer, clasping his apple pen a little tighter in anticipation of your response. 

“I’m not patient enough. I guess I just hoped that it was fixed. But, now I have to get used to the idea of this being some long healing journey as if I haven’t had enough of those. As if I haven’t–fucking–read enough–fucking–self-help books or listened to enough ‘all you need is recharged rose quartz and you’ll be fine’--fucking–influencers.” You felt your hands grip at your forehead in defeat, palms attempting to erase the tension that settled there through half-hazard motions. You wanted to laugh at the way you got so easily wound up, but the idea of starting yet another ‘healing era’, felt suffocating, impossible even. 

How much more growing was there to do? Some people say it never stops, but you’ve had a lifetime of it. A lifetime of people pointing out your flaws, telling you what was wrong or what needed fixing. You’ve had a lifetime of changing everything about you until something felt right, like a puzzle piece clicking into place. A lifetime of trying to do everything right just to be told you were doing it wrong, anyway. You weren’t emotional enough, then you were too emotional. You were loud, then too quiet. You were rude, then you were compliant. It took reaching your twenties to realise you didn’t really care who you were, or how you acted, as long as you were happy with yourself. 

It felt freeing, so entirely exhilarating to feel as if you were done changing, morphing and growing into someone else’s idea of a normal human woman. It matched you well, but it was also tiring. You’d grown to be independent far younger than you probably should’ve, your therapist said it built character, you thought that was stupid even at ten years old. Having a childhood built character, having healthy relationships and good role models; that was what you needed. People’s incessant criticisms had felt like the only freedom from your independence for so long; the only time you weren’t thinking for yourself. Bittersweet was the lingering feeling that remained for a few years after your new found self-assurance. 

It was stupid, to crave something that had been so toxic, but that was just so unequivocally you. Hate something with every fibre of your being when you had it just to miss it when it was gone. Didn’t matter how much it hurt you, didn’t matter that it damn nearly killed you, only the good parts of it remained in its absence. The ghosts of memories even your unrelenting, self-sabotaging brain forgot. Were those the causes of your dissociation? The fragmented memories of times gone by, the missing pieces still stashed away in some untravelled corner of your mind?

“These things do take time, yeah.” Chan pulled you from your thoughts, tugging a sigh from your lips as you shook your head in defeat.

“Fuck that, there’s gotta just be something in me that doesn’t work, right? Like there’s just a part of me that can’t do it and I’m gonna have to just live with that.” Your arms raised in exasperation, frustrated rambles not phasing him in the slightest. You figured that shouldn’t surprise you, despite everything that had transpired between you, despite how unlikely it sometimes seemed, he was a therapist. A person you were paying to listen to you speak. A person you had essentially paid to make you cum. Jesus. 

“But you did.” He countered.

“No, you did.” You reminded him, his brows rising at the implication. 

“That was all you, I just helped.” He shook his head, dismissive once more. 

“Can’t you help me again, then? Just tell me what to do, show me. Make that part of me wake the fuck up and realise it has a job to do. Fix me again.” You murmured helplessly, searching his mind for something, anything that could ease your anguish. 

“You want that? You want me to teach you? You want me to fix you?” He spoke after a beat of silence, plump mouth emphasising your latter sentiment. A switch had seemingly been flipped in him, reminding you of his faltering resolve from a month ago. You were sure it was your imagination–after all he was so quick to collect himself–but that was expected, you didn’t know him well enough. You didn’t know how badly he yearned to ‘fix you’. 

There was a saying that went along the lines of this; therapists need therapy the most The first part of their adult lives were dedicated to learning the secrets of the mind, just to spend the rest of it fixing other people’s. The perfect distraction; fix others so you don’t have to fix yourself. Yeah, that was him. Finding distraction after distraction to avoid the complicated mess in his own brain. But that wasn’t just it. No, Chan was a people pleaser, a man so desperate to be needed that he put his heart in danger every single fucking time. 

He’d lost count by now, the amount of times he’d run in blindly; falling for a pretty girl with pretty problems. A pretty girl with a pretty smile and a pretty big hole in her pretty heart. He did it every single time. He’d never mixed work with self-sabotage though, this was unchartered territory. But that was then, one slip up, one mistake made in the heat of the moment. How could he not? You were so pretty, sounded so pretty pleading for him to help you. Not even he had the patience for that. 

“Yes.” You breathed out, eyes turning wide and expectant beneath his weighted retort. There you were again, looking hopeful, as if he really did have the power to cure you. But he didn’t, Chan had learned that again and again; he couldn’t change the last girl, or the girl before, or the girl before that and he couldn’t change you. Not like this anyway, not through lust or–heaven forbid–love. Growing attached, letting them be dependent, it was bad in the end; always bad, never good like he’d intended.

“I can’t, you’re not broken.” He assured you, not a drop of insincerity mixing with the honey sweet tone of his soft voice.

“Then pretend I am and fix me anyway– break me just to put me back together again– I don’t care, just please do something to make it stop.” You felt a little frantic now: he wasn’t giving you the answers, wasn’t providing solutions. Was it really that hopeless? Were you really this cursed? Knowing that the cure was right in front of you, within arms reach, but too far to hold. Too distant and closed off, too unwilling to give you what you know you needed. 

Were you crazy for thinking he wanted it to, were you delusional for thinking you could see the fire in his eyes every time you reached for him with words? The air around you didn’t lie though, did it? Or were you the only one feeling that constant chemical reaction that surrounded you both. That fizzle and burn, that electric fever that drove you crazy; depriving you of clean, pure air with every breath. It was filling your lungs with hot embers, you could feel it, could feel the way it choked you of all sense and left only desire in its place. Could he really not feel it too? 

“Make what stop, love?” The nickname wasn’t lost on you, its presence sent a ripple of hope across your skin, igniting goosebumps in its path.

“I don’t know, everything I guess. The boredom, the anxiety, the noise, the frustration, the emptiness; all of it went away that night and I’ve been trying to get back there ever since.” You admitted, teeth gnawing at your lip, brows scrunched together in frustration. Chan thought you looked utterly pitiful in the hottest way. Was that possible? To look pathetic and undeniably attractive all at once. Yeah, it was; you were. 

“I can’t cure you, you know that right? You have to do that on your own.” He insisted. It was true, wasn’t it? Historically speaking, practically speaking. People can’t change other people, that was how it worked right? They had to change on their own, grow alone, love themselves before they could learn to love someone else. If they didn’t, they’d be forever codependent, clinging to the sun that helped them grow into a fully flourished person. But the sun went down, it didn’t stick around forever; he couldn’t stick around forever. 

“But what if…” 

“I can’t.” He was quick to cut you off, not wanting to fill your head with pointless sentiments of hope. Whether he wanted to or not, whether you wanted to or not, you had to stand on your own two feet. He knew this to be true more than ever when it came to your own pleasure. You couldn’t depend on him for that; he couldn’t fill the void. He’d fall in love too easily, catch feelings in an instant. How could he ever make it out of that alive? It wasn’t right, you deserved better. Deserved to know your own body, how it felt, what made you feel good.

“Try?” You spoke, voice barely above a whisper, eyes wide and pleading. 

“I can’t.” He huffed through gritted teeth, jaw stiff with useless restraint.

“Please?” You looked at him as if he held the world and all its mysteries in his grasp, ready to hand them over if only you could wear him down enough. It wasn’t not working, he hated to admit. 

“Don’t… don’t do that.” He shook his head, eyes dipping to the ipad in his grip as he drew mindless patterns across its slick screen. It was enough to distract him for a moment, but not long enough.

“So, I just, I just go home and try the same shit again then is that it? Another month of nothing? Or can I call again, would you pick up if I did?” Your words had his cock twitching, palms growing clammy. That night haunted him. It felt so wrong, so completely fucked up. He lay awake for nights after that wondering if he should resign, turning his dream of owning a successful therapeutic clinic into a distant memory with the same stroke. But more than that, he wondered if you’d call again. Would you need him some more? Would you lean on him a little longer? Was it really true that he was the missing piece? That only he could make you cum.

“You know I would.” He responded in an instant, too quick in fact. “I’m surprised you didn’t call, to be honest.” He chuckled, attempting to seem unaffected. As if he hadn’t been waiting by the phone every evening, as if he hadn’t checked and re-checked for missed calls when sleep didn’t come to him easily. 

“I wanted to try on my own; I’m really trying.” You half-whined and that sound alone was enough to have every noise from a month ago flooding his mind at once. His hips shifted, tongue darting out to wet his bottom lip. 

“I know, baby, you’re so good.” He sighed, resolve slipping; gaze darkening along with it. You saw it happen right in front of you, pupils dilating, mask slipping from his handsome face. “How about this… You show me how you do it at home and I’ll see if there are areas for improvement?” Chan suggested, against what he knew to be his better judgement. Fuck it, though, right? He could cross another line, just one more, find a new one to draw between you to keep you at arms length. You’d seen right through him in that regard, knew exactly how he justified each gradual crawl toward your eagerly awaiting form. 

“You want me to… now?” You blinked, fireworks erupting in the pit of your stomach signaling an internal celebration of what you were almost sure was a triumphant victory. 

“Isn’t that what you want? To make a mess of my chair? To cum again?” His words sent a jolt of something electric and sweet straight to your core. Your teeth felt like blades, threatening to draw blood from the plump flesh of your bottom lip as you nodded wordlessly, too turned on at the prospect of getting to climax again to formulate a coherent sentence. 

“Why don’t you lift that little skirt of yours and show me how you pleasure yourself.” His voice was low, impossibly dark gaze studying you with an almost predatory stare. Your nerves stood alert like the hairs of your arm, hands moving at their own accord. You moved the hem of your skirt up the meat of your bare thighs, his eyes following your motions closely before fixing on the sheer fabric of your damp panties. 

You felt like an imposter in your own skin as you spread your legs, circling the pads of your fingers across your clothed clit in compliance. You tried to stop the heat from rising in your cheeks, from pulsing through your blood like lava, the molton toxicity wetting your panties even more. You were helpless to it; the growing intensity of your lust. It was strange, the combination of embarrassment mixed with desire. It felt like a dangerous cocktail, one destined to leave you with a hangover unlike any other you’d felt; a banging headache, a sick feeling, a desperation for a wellness you could never reach without it. 

Was that what this was? A growing addiction?  An inability to feel better without him, or an unwillingness to find an alternative cure? You pushed the thoughts from your mind, easily too with the help of his sultry voice, though all the same the bubbling of nervousness remained. 

“This is how you do it? What’s rule number one? What did we do last time?” He asked, too put together considering the pornographic movie that was playing out in front of him. His eyes told a different story though, hungry and feverish as you moved your fingers clumsily. 

“Umm, take my clothes off?” You managed between huffs of impatient air, wanting nothing more than to skip to the part where your toes were curling, head tipped back in reticent ecstacy. You moved your hands away from your clothed cunt, starting to remove the tight fitting crop top a strap at a time. You watched his jaw grow slack at this, your confidence growing in place of the initial uncertainty. 

You put on a show for him, suddenly abandoning the idea of being taught the ways of your pussy in favour of winding him up. Both straps fell past your shoulders, the rough material of your tiny top grazing your perky nipples as you dragged it down your chest, letting your plump breasts spill out from beyond its fabric confines. His brow twitched, lips faltering along with it as he watched the bounce of your tits.

“Mhm and start with your nipples, make them feel good, work yourself up.” Pulling your top off completely, you followed his demands, fingers tugging at your hardening buds. You remembered his advice from the last time, making sure to wet your digits with your tongue in a slow sinful motion. This earned a half moan from the man, his body shifting as he hid his faltering confidence behind a closed fist. With his chin resting against it, he gazed at you through his lashes, watching every pinch and tug with a hawk-like intensity. 

“I’m already so worked up.” You groaned, unable to hold his heated glare any longer. You lulled your eyes toward the wet patch growing in your panties, pussy clenching around nothing at the sight of it. 

“I make you worked up?” He mused, leaning forward in interest. Leveled as his voice remained, his restless form gave him away; dilated pupils darting between your hard nipples and your soaked underwear. His bottom lip caught between his teeth, moan designed behind a cough at your response. 

“Yeah, so bad.” You mewled, one hand traversing the expanse of your smooth skin until your fingers met with the pool of sticky wetness between your thighs. You pulled at the band of your panties, sighing at the feeling of the tight fabric squeezing against your sensitive clit. You watched his expression as you drank in every movement, the obvious stiffness mounting in his crotch area not going unnoticed by you. 

You wondered what it would take to have him desperate for his own release again, enough to disregard every one of his frivolous boundaries until his head was too clouded with intoxicating lust to draw a new line between you. 

“Don’t focus on me, focus on yourself and your body.” It was almost like he knew, as if he could read your mind; could sense the way it reeled with thoughts of him and him alone. You tugged at your panties again, focusing on the movement of your fingers as they swirled around your excited nipple. “That’s good, don’t be shy now, you weren’t shy last time.” 

“You couldn’t see me last time.” You murmured, the tips of your ears and apples of your cheeks the same shade of crimson. 

“You’re beautiful, don’t be embarrassed.“ Chan shook his head, shifting in his seat once again. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t get comfortable, not when the growing ache in his pants became harder and harder to ignore. “Now do what we did last time, feel what works best for you, take your time.” 

“This?” You questioned, fingers pulling your panties aside as strings of sticky cum followed suit. You touched your bare clit with care, jolting and wincing with each caress. You were so sensitive, so turned on by the intent stare he fixed on your soaked cunt. You traced a finger down the seam of your pussy, rubbing the thick, juicy substance across your bundle of nerves in a clockwork motion. 

“Yeah, that’s right, feel yourself.” He drew a breath, tongue darting across his lips, hands not sure what to do with one another as he watched the sight play out in front of him. “That’s good, does that feel good?” Chan questioned, slouching back in his chair as if the increased distance would afford him some alleviation from your mesmerising performance. 

“Yeah, I think so.” You retorted, repeating the back and forth between your clit and dampening folds. You teased your entrance with the gentle prod of your fingers, tight clenching accompanying each experimental push. 

“Do what makes you feel good, learn what you like.” It was unbearable how calm he was, a whine leaving your lips as his professional tone. 

“How.” You murmured, the strumming of your clit increasing in speed as you felt a pleasurable sensation begin to wash over you. 

“Try new things, keep touching yourself–why don’t you take those panties off and give your pussy a slap.” You nodded, eagerly complying with his wishes as you pulled your panties down your legs letting the sheer fabric pool at the base of your chair. You placed your skirt there too, completely bare save the pair of kitten heels snug around your feet. 

“What?” The second part of his statement had you puzzled though, or perhaps it was just the intense feeling of being exposed in front of a person who was not only fully clothed but seemingly unbothered. Yeah, maybe that was it; that would be enough to have anyone confused and uncertain.

“You like it rough don’t you? Smack your pussy, give your clit a spanking for me.” His words had your hips shifting, a moan tumbling from your lips. Everything sounded better coming from his full mouth, the gravel tone interlaced with his thick accent–it was unbearable. 

“Like this?” You questioned, landing a smack against your sensitive clit. Both of you moved in sync, hips shifting at the shrill noise your palm made abusing your sensitive nub. Your face screwed up at the feeling, the delightful sting accompanied by another wave of self-satisfaction. 

“Harder.” He growled, moan mingling with his next words. “Yeah, you like that? I can see how wet you are, keep spanking your pretty little cunt.” You complied, strings of whines and groans following each harsh slap. 

“You’re making me this wet.” You mewled, expression still contorted in pleasure. Chan wasn’t sure how he’d expected to make it through this entire ordeal, that had been foolish thinking on his part. He hadn’t expected you to be so brazen though, both nervous in your disposition but shameless in your filthy words and actions. His cock was impossibly hard in his pants now, hand itching to relieve the tension.

“Fuck don’t say that, gonna have to learn how to make yourself cum when I’m not around.” He insisted, though in truth you were saying all the right things to morph him into malleable putty, substance perfect for the palms of your hands; mass supple enough to wrap around your finger. “That’s good, yeah that’s good fuck you’re clenching around nothing.” 

“Wanna be full.” You whined, pinching and rubbing at your clit with a rise and fall of your hips. You could tell the chair beneath you was drenched by now, the surface becoming slippery beneath your clammy thighs.

“Fuck yourself with your fingers, start with one and keep adding as many as your greedy little cunt needs to feel full.” His resolve was slipping, you could tell, could connect the dots from that night a month ago. It filled you with confidence, had your heart racing and limbs squirming as you rubbed your clit more furiously. 

“Not gonna be enough.” You shook your head, hoping, so intensely, that he would just give up and finish you himself. You could practically sense it, the way his fingers would make you feel, the sharp rush of intense white light that bubbled up with every thrust of his skilled digits. How perfectly they’d fill your tight hole, stretching you open as if preparing you for his fat cock. You slid a finger inside, feeling empty despite the new intrusion. 

“You just need to learn how to make yourself feel good baby, curl your fingers, do a scissor motion, whatever makes you feel the best.” He was still instructional in his method, but he looked anything but the calm teacher he’d been previously. Chan was leant forward now, tongue poking out his mouth, elbows propped on his knees as he watched you intensely. 

“How?” You questioned, brows scrunched.

“How, what baby? Use your words.” He asked, his palms rubbing together in a useless attempt to distract his mind from the ache in his pants.

“How do I make it feel good, sir.” You elaborated, pushing another finger inside your convulsing pussy. 

“Fuck, god, gonna make me crazy if you keep that up.” He run a hand through his hair, hips rising from the chair. His dark hair looked a mess by the time his fingers were done combing and tugging with restraint. You didn’t think it was possible for him to look any sexier, but his disheveled appearance proved otherwise. 

“Please.” You implored, the steady back and forth of your fingers slowing to a standstill at his next words. 

“You want me to show you, yeah?” He licked his lips shamelessly at you, hungry eyes awaiting your response with uninhabited lust. 

“Yes, please, so bad.” You mused, squirming in your chair at the prospect of his fingers tucked snugly inside your needy pussy. You hoped this wasn’t a dream, that you weren’t about to jolt awake to the shrill sound of your alarm clock. 

“Beg, show sir how badly you want his fingers inside you.” He murmured, jaw clenching at the sight of your pussy as it squeezed around nothing. “Keep circling your clit, yeah, keep going.” He commanded you, and without hesitation you followed. 

“Please, please, want you to fill me so bad, please sir- please.” You keened, fingers toying frantically with your bundle of nerves. 

“That’s it baby, keep getting yourself off, you're doing such a good job on your own.” He licked his lips again, chest heaving with every circular motion. You pushed your fingers back between the snug walls of your cunt, moving your hips to accompany the thrust of your digits. 

“I need more, please.” You wailed, the edge you’d wanted to revisit so badly gradually inching into view. 

“You really want my help, baby?” He asked, almost as if he were undecided. That couldn’t be it, though. There was no conceivable way Chan could doubt your desire to have him, in whichever way he was willing to give. He wanted to hear you beg some more, didn’t he? Wanted to hear just how badly you needed him, as if seeing it wasn’t enough. 

“Please.” You gave him what he wanted, putting on your best forlorn expression to better your chances. It worked, a little too well judging by the haphazard way he fell to his knees in front of you. Whatever glimmer of self-discipline he’d been clinging to, it was gone now, and in its place: a man starved. 

“You’ll tell me if you wanna stop, can you do that for me?” He looked up at you with hopeful eyes, his final attempt at giving you an out. An insincere part of him hoped you would, that you’d be the one to grasp ahold of your better sensibilities and put an end to your affair. But you didn’t, of course not, you never would, would you? He doubted it, not when your gaze exuded a level of desperation he was sure he’d only seen in wild animals. Instead, you nodded, teeth claiming your bottom lip as you did so. “Good girl.” 

Chan wasted no time sliding a finger inside your warm walls, a drawn out groan falling from his lips at the spongy grip that took a hold of his digit. His hips shifted compulsively as you tightened around him, a second finger inching its way in as he studied every rise and fall of your expression. Another moan from your lips–another half-grunt, half-groan from his own. He pushed his digits deeper, thrusting them in and out at a steady pace, letting his knuckles brush against your velvety clit.

“Ugh, that’s good.” You practically screamed out, head tipping back with a wide open-mouthed grimace; face contorted in unimaginable pleasure. How was it possible to feel this good? You thought you’d reached the maximum capacity for bliss that night, but Chan was showing you an entirely new palette of gratifying hues. 

“Barely touching you, darling. So desperate, hmm? Not been able to get off without me? Need me that badly?” He mewled, lips pressing wet, desultory kisses to your shoulder and collarbone. Your body twitched and seized beneath him, eyes rolling back at the sensation of his plump mouth against your hypersensitive skin. Every nerve felt as if it were going haywire, every brush of his bony flesh against your clit feeling like a rush of adrenaline. It was then that he did something truly toe-curling, the sudden feeling of something prodding at just the right angle inside of your tight walls; it had your spasming wildly beneath him. 

“Yeah I need you, need you to make me cum–need your cock in me, want you to stretch me out.” You sang in between moans, hands clinging to his clothed shoulders, nails latching onto him harshly. 

“Fuck, baby, slow down. Gonna take my time; you gotta take your time.” He panted, dark eyes finding yours in among the thick haze of lust that consumed you both. It had you moaning even louder, the combination of his intoxicating stare and that unidentifiable sensation threatening to push you over the edge prematurely. 

“Oh god, so much better.” You whined, tears filling your eyes, forehead shifting to press against his own as you clung to him for dear life. The warmth that radiated from his body was like a balmy embrace, the rousing scent of his cologne only adding to the numbing of your senses. He smelled incredible; expensive and masculine but with an undertone of something musky and thrilling. You wanted more of it, more of him. Wanted to taste him, to feel his cock pushed so far past your walls you could feel him rearranging your guts; the head of his member visibly prodding at the pit of your stomach. You wanted his mouth on yours, tongue exploring the inside of your mouth until he’d discerned every inch of you, top to bottom. 

You felt safe beneath his strong body, the hand that wasn’t busy splitting your open prying at your thigh until he managed to hook a leg over his shoulder. You felt your head fall back again, eyes squeezing shut as he sped up his pace, the room filling with the sound of your drenched pussy. The squelching was so lewd, so loud that you were sure you’d cum from that alone. Could feel it in the way your cunt clenched again and again, sucking his digits in and refusing to let them free.

“That’s ‘cause I’m curling them. Feel the difference?” He murmured, tone the only thing calm about him now. Looking down at him, you saw the frazzled expression painted across his handsome face, the frantic look in his eyes underpinning that same predatory stare. “Mmm fuck– gonna find your g-spot; gonna make you scream.” 

“Chan, fuck, please.” You wailed, hips bucking upwards in motion with his thrusts. He pushed you down with his free hand, cheek pressing against the meat of your leg as he watched you intently. His attentive stare didn’t last long, though, not when your pussy was putting on such a pretty show for him. His arm was soaked, the chair beneath you was drenched, juices pooling on the floor by your clothes. 

“So hot–stay still for me baby, did I hit the spot?” You could only nod now, moans coming out in pitchy screams as you bucked against his firm palm, desperately trying to fuck yourself with his fingers. You couldn’t describe it, the pleasure that was building inside of you, the edge that was careening so close to your helpless, frantic body that you could taste your orgasm on the tip of your tongue. 

“Yeah, think so, oh god, oh my god.” You found your words at last, whining disapprovingly when his fingers left your needy pussy empty in favour of pushing past his plump mouth. Your gaze drank him in as he did so, watching with narrowed eyes as he sucked on them. It was slow and erotic and downright torturous, a string of desperate moans tumbling from his glistening pink lips. 

“Fuck you taste so good, let me taste you properly, please can I?” Apparently it was his turn to beg, his nose nuzzling against the inside of your thigh as he adjusted the leg propped atop his shoulder. 

“Please, please, do whatever you want, own me.” You nodded frantically, wanting nothing more than to return to that blissed out state you’d been so caught up in. 

“You want me to make this pussy mine, for real? Want me to fuck you rough like the slut you are?” You wanted him to mean what he was saying, but something told you he wasn’t. That was as a line you were certain he wouldn’t cross, not for now anyway, but you could live with that. A sentiment that rang even truer when you felt the rough texture of his tongue against your puffy, sopping cunt.

The reverberation of his moans only added to the intense wave of pleasure that overcame you, his frenzied ministrations causing your hips to buck, thighs closing around his head. He took it all, licking up and down your pussy as if lapping up your juices. Whatever lesson this was supposed to teach you about masturbation, you didn’t know, and you weren’t about to question him about it, not when you switched to burying his face in your leaking pussy, tongue fucking you with purpose as his nose prodded your swollen clit. 

“Yes, please, sir–ruin me.” You grabbed ahold of his hair, earning another moan from the man as he continued devouring your drenched cunt. Every time he lapped at your sweet juices, more poured from your clenching hole, his tongue drinking up every last drop as he shifted between your entrance and your sensitive nub. 

“Fuck this isn’t good.” He groaned, breathing out words in the short amount of time he spent away from your pussy; allowing him mere moments to suck in oxygen before he dove back in. “We shouldn’t be doing this, baby, you’re driving me crazy.”

“Ugh, that feels so fucking good.” This time he focused his mouth on your clit, lips wrapping around your bud as he pushed his fingers inside of you, thrusting in knuckles deep with a pace that bordered on animalistic. Your fingers gripped his hair just as aggressively, hips moving at their own accord as you felt the edge of your orgasm hurtle towards you. 

“Good keep going, use my fingers fuck yes.” He moaned, breaths coming out in desperate pants against your sensitive clit. The gentle push of air paired with his relentless thrust of his fingers against your g-spot was enough to have you screaming, head falling backward, cunt convulsing as you felt that white light begin to encase you.“Shit you’re cumming so soon? Oh fuck, yeah, fuck, so messy.” 

“Fuck, please, keep going– no why did you stop?” That feeling you’d been so frantic to chase, the bright, welcoming light that you’d been so ready to rush toward was ripped from you the moment his fingers exited your clamping walls. You looked at him in disbelief, body spent, skin aglow with sweat.

“It's your turn, do what I did.” He rejoindered. 

“No, no please” You shook your head, tears welling over as you pleaded with him to give you release. This was bordering on mean, knowing how frustrated and desperate you were to feel that warm white release only to pry it from your begging hands. 

“Come on pretty girl, you got this. Let me help you.” His palms ran comforting patterns across your skin, face still level with your pussy as his breath fanned across your sensitive core. You twitched beneath him, stare holding his own in hopes your beseeching eyes could reason with him. 

“Not the same.” You murmured, shaking your head once more. 

“Don’t be greedy now, come on.” He spoke, landing a slap against your clit in warning. Your hips jumped, sensitive pussy clenching around air as you greedily accepted your punishment. Despite your momentary disobedience, you followed his request, pathetic fingers moving down between you both to begin thrusting in and out of your weeping hole. “Good girl, keep going.” 

“Need yours.” You sobbed, the feeling of your digits nowhere close to the pleasurable strokes of his thick, veiny hand. 

“Hmm, why don’t we try a new toy? See if you can make yourself cum like that?” He suggested, and how he’d managed to maintain any semblance of his role as your sex therapist after annihilating your pussy with his pretty lips, you had no idea. Truly the man was a saint, he hadn’t even touched his hard cock once, too busy pleasuring you to even notice the impossibly tight feeling in his pants.

“Okay…” You agreed, body beginning to ache with fatigue. 

“Keep playing with yourself, slap that pretty little clit around while I find a toy for baby girl to play with.” Chan commanded, and you obeyed. 

You watched him walk the short distance to his desk, opening one of the cupboards to look over a collection of unboxed sex toys. The consistent branding told you it was probably a sponsorship deal, a collaboration of sorts. But you didn’t pay the toys enough attention to confirm this, no, instead you watched the way his back flexed, vein hands tugging at a box before returning it to its home. It was utterly unfair how even the back of him could drive you crazy; everything about him was thick, masculine and oozing sex appeal. Yet despite the plumpness of his arms, thighs and ass, his waist remained tiny beneath the crisp fabric of his shirt. You wanted to see what lay beneath his tight-fitting clothing so badly, the thought enough to have your fingers speeding up in a newfound wave of ecstasy. 

“What about this? Long like my fingers, that’s what you like right?” He returned with a different vibrator. Unlike the other one, this had some sort of vibrating node for your clit; making sure to stimulate every inch of you it could touch. 

“Lemme show you how this works, okay? Gonna use it just like the vibrator, push it up as far as your little cunt can bear.” Chan grumbled, tongue licking his lips as he lowered himself to his knees again. Removing it from its packaging with ease, he pressed the velvety device against your desperate cunt, quizzical gaze searching for any signs of hesitation. 

“I can take it all, please make me take it.” You were quick to retort, squirming in anticipation of what was to come. You hoped, no you prayed, that this time he’d make you cum, not stopping till your body was limp and spent, eyes rolled back in your head and screams so pitchy not a sound came out. You wanted that, you wanted that so bad. 

“Fuck, you’re so hot when you’re all wound up baby, you sure you want that?” His voice was low, free hand coaxing your leg back over his shoulder as he peppered kisses to your inner thigh.

“Please, pretend it's your cock. How would you fuck me?” You whined, hands shifting to pinch at your nipples desperate for any form of release.

“No, no you can’t think like that baby.” He shook his head dismissively, using the toy to push up and down your gushing pussy, chuckling wickedly every time your body twitched. 

“You want it too, don’t you? Wanna know what it’s like to fuck me? So do–” You couldn’t even finish getting the words out before he was shoving the toy into your needy hole with force, a dark expression atop his faltering features. “Yeah fuck, like that.” You screamed out, your pussy barely able to sheath the toy with how puffy and swollen your walls were.

“That feel good, baby?” He growled, teeth gritted as he pushed the device in and out of you with fever.

“So good.” You whimpered, bucking your hips in time with his thrusts.

“Gonna have to take over, you need to learn for yourself.” He reminded you, your head shaking in an instant. 

“Not yet, keep going please.” You sobbed tearlessly, moans coming out in broken, melodic strings of half-cries and curse words. 

“Haven’t even turned the vibrate on and you’re already clenching like a whore.” He tutted, tongue spilling from his lips as he got lost in your pleasure. It looked like he enjoyed this almost as much as you did, his brows furrowed in concentration as he took in every change in your expression. 

“Can I touch you?” You whined out, hips bouncing in time with his expertly timed thrusts. Your hands reached out, starting to undo the buttons of his dress shirt with a growing desire to see him naked and exposed like you were. He didn’t show any resistance, even shuddering beneath the graze of your nails against his bare chest as you opened the unbuttoned top. He looked delectable; toned muscles flexing with every thrust of his arm. 

“No, then I really will wanna fuck you.” He murmured, setting another boundary you had every intention of crossing; his forehead leaning down to press against yours, bodies as close as they could possibly be given the current position. His lust-filled gaze sparkled in the shadowed confines of your close faces, the soft whimpers and laboured breaths that left his parted lips sending your body into overdrive. You leaned forward to connect your lips, mouth ghosting over his for a nanosecond before he moved his face away from yours. You whined, aching to chase after him but opting to pry a little more instead. 

“Will you touch yourself when it’s my turn then?” You questioned, hungry eyes searching his for any signs of defiance.

“You want that?” He whimpered, free palm pushing you down against the soaked leather chair once more, trying to keep your quivering body still beneath him. 

“Yeah wanna hear you moan again.” You yelped, clenching again and again around the silicon toy, wanting more than anything to replace it with his meaty cock.

“Does that turn you on?” Chan asked, proud grin on his lips.

“So bad.” You murmured, head rolling back as you felt him graze against your g-spot with the tip of your new device. “Wanna watch your cock make a mess– oh my god I’m so close Channie~” He didn’t let you finish, turning the vibrator on mid sentence. The sudden change in sensation caused you to shake and convulse beneath him, creaming the toy with every pointed thrust he offered your greedy cunt. 

“Yeah? Take over for me baby, fuck yourself like the depraved slut you are.” You could barely think straight, eyes glazed over with unadulterated, carnal desire. 

“Fuck you’d break me open so good, want your cock so bad.” You mumbled, taking the toy from his grip to try and match his relentless pace. You weren’t even close, too tired, too rigid to compare. 

“God, bet you do, never enough for your greedy little pussy is it? Just want more and more.” Chan mused, the sound of his belt clattering drawing your attention to his lower half. You watched eagerly, excitement growing with every push of his hands. He pulled his cock out hurriedly, leg still propped over his shoulder as he fisted the base of his cock. 

You whined at the sight, free hand clawing at his half-clothed chest before gripping the meat of his upper arm. You hoped, pointlessly so, that the feeling of his toned muscle beneath your hold would ground you, keeping you steady as you worked yourself with the toy. The sight of him jerking desperately at his leaking cock, though, was far too compelling. Moans fell from his mouth, curse words interjecting every sinful noise. 

You’d thought his pointed gaze was enough to hypnotise you, but the image of his stiff member as it oozed pre cum transfixed you in an entirely new way. You couldn’t look away, couldn’t tear your eyes from his thrusting hips and eager fist as it worked its way up and down his length. You were sure you’d not seen a cock quite as pretty as his, either. It wasn’t overly large but it was thick and veiny with an angry red tip that you knew would prod your cunt in all the right ways. You wanted it, you wanted him so bad. You were salivating at the thought, mouth gaping wide open at the prospect of it.

“Bet you’d fuck me dry, so desperate you’d milk my cock of every drop.” He groaned loudly, hips bucking into his first with an air of impatience. 

“Yeah, want that so bad sir.” You could feel your high approaching once more, the edge coming into view in new and improved shades of technicolour bliss. 

“That’s it, good girl, you’re doing so well.” He praised you, head lulling back as he hissed, teeth clenching, face scrunching; the hottest fucking thing you’ve ever seen. His adams apple bobbed, thick neck glistening with sweat as he squirmed, face falling to rest against your leg. 

“Cum on me, in my mouth.” You pleaded, trying to match the rhythm of his thrusts, imagination fixing on the idea of it being him fucking you like this.

“Fuck that’s so hot, you’re so fucking hot.” He instantly complied with your wishes, hand abandoning his cock momentarily in favour of getting to his feet. He gently lowered the leg once propped atop his shoulder as he did so, discarding his trousers and underwear properly when he was stood. He was frantic in his motions, wanting nothing more than to dump his load on your pretty face. 

Hovering over you, he watched as you eagerly opened your mouth, head angled to allow him to aim the tip of his length toward your lips. He hummed at the sight, face scrunching again as he began to fist at his cock. The wet sound of his cum streaking the length of his member had you keening, tongue darting out to lick at his tip desperately. He bucked his hips at the new sensation, shoving his cock closer to your mouth in the process. You kept lapping at his head, enjoying the salty taste of his cum as it hit your tongue–the bitter flavour pulling pornographic moans from your throat.

“Oh god that feels amazing. Yeah, keep doing that baby.” He too moaned, pumping his cock relentlessly while you leaned closer to him, sucking the head of his twitching member feverishly. “Such a good girl, yeah, your lips look so pretty around my cock baby.” 

“More.” You begged, the initial taste of his salty cum enough to have you craving more. You wanted all of it, wanted to feel his mushroom tip abuse the back of your throat, wanted to choke on his fat cock until breath became a necessity. You were positive you’d see the white, orgasmic light then, when you were deprived of all air, forced to take in every inch of him until he was done using you for his own pleasure. 

“No, don’t be greedy. Take what I give you and say thank you like a good slut.” He landed a slap against your cheek, not hard enough to hurt, just enough to sting and fuck it felt incredible.

“Mmm, thank you sir.” You whined, complying instantly, pussy clenching around the toy still thrusting in and out of your numb cunt. Your arms were in a similar position, movements growing sloppy and slow as you tried to chase your high through till the end. 

“Good, now you gonna cum for me?” He asked, fucking his fist with the same fierce pace he’d gifted you. “Yeah, fuck you’re so hot.” He moaned, watching you struggle to pleasure yourself, movements ragged and desperate as you became unable to control your limbs. 

“So close, so so so– please.” You cried out, riding the toy with one final push of determined energy.

“That’s it, keep fucking yourself. You’re so close, baby don’t give up now.” He moaned out, his own high building with every snap of your hips, the noises your mouth and pussy were making so sinful it had his eyes rolling back. He resisted though, keeping his well-trained eyes on your abused cunt. You were struggling, he could tell, something in you not quite snapping the way you clearly wanted it to. It wasn’t your fault, he’d tired you out by now; he blamed himself for that. 

“Come on, you can do better than that. Like this baby.” He abandoned his own pleasure again, hand leaving his cock to replace yours. His pace was exactly what you needed, your body convulsing the moment he replaced your sloppy grip. 

“Oh god, yes, please keep going.” You cried, almost scared he’d deny you again. 

“Yeah? You gonna cum? Look at the mess you’re making pretty girl, fuck, I bet it tastes delicious.” He growled, pushing the toy as deep as your puffy cunt would allow, angle directed toward the extra-sensitive spot you seemed to love so much. “You’re taking it so well, such a good little slut.” 

“I’m gonna cum.” You wailed, hand gripping his, half-reacting to the sudden feeling of overstimulation that washed over you, the part of the vibrator pressed against your clit sending you into spasms with every hard thrust.

“That’s right, come on baby, good girls cum– you’re my good girl aren’t you? Gonna cum like sir told you to?” He growled, the possessive tone that had overtaken him sending shockwaves across your limbs. 

“Yeah, yeah fuck! I’m-” You didn’t have time to respond to his pleas before you were thrown from the edge, same white light blinding you in the process. You lost all feeling, all consciousness as you came, the explosions errupting throughout your spent body going unnoticed by your fucked out mind. Your chest heaved as you started to come to, hand still clamped around his now motionless wrist as his voice broke through your heavy breathing. 

“Shit, you squirted everywhere baby. Fuck that’s so hot.” You whimpered, scrambling to sit up in embarrassment. You looked at the chair first, the leather slick with your release, but it wasn’t until you gazed at Chan that you saw the extent of it. His white shirt was dotted with wet spots, looking almost like the splatter of something colourless. His hand and arm were soaked, chest glistening too. 

“Sorry.” You frowned, suddenly embarrassed by the mess you’d made.

“Shh, don’t be sorry, you did so well baby; look at you, so messy, so pretty.” He was quick to assure you, abandoning the vibrator in favour of cupping both your cheeks. You took each other in for a moment, no words spoken between you as your eyes lowered to his lips. One of his hands moved toward your chin, tugging our gaze upward again; not letting you linger with the thought of kissing him. 

“Lemme make you cum.” You spoke after a beat in time. 

“No, no lovely girl, you need to rest a second.” He smiled, pad of thumb caressing your plump bottom lip before he shifted, seemingly ready to clean you up and send you on your way. You weren’t ready for the moment to end, though. Couldn’t bear the thought of not getting to see him like this again for another month, or, god forbid, longer. 

“Then use me to finish.” You reached for him, grabbing ahold of his wrist before his back could straighten, reaching his full height. 

“Baby, fuck.” He moaned, clearly battling with the idea of you crossing yet another of his lines. He couldn’t blame you, not wholly anyway, he let you do it easily every time. Deep down he knew they were nothing but silly justifications; a safety net to fall back on when he broke every rule in the book.

“I want you to.” You assured him.

“This is supposed to be about you.” He shook his head.

“Then do it for me, use my mouth.” Your persistence seemed to be enough for him, still-hard cock twitching excitedly at the prospect. 

“Get on your knees.” His eyes darkened, turning to face you properly as he watched you position yourself on the floor, obedient as ever. “That’s it, good girl.” He swallowed thickly, guiding you toward his painfully hard length. He tapped your outstretched tongue with the tip, wordlessly ordering you to open wide.

“Tastes so good sir.” You mewled as he slid the base of his cock along your tongue, moaning at the texture of your muscle against his veiny member. His patience, or whatever was left of it, was slipping away with every messy lick of your tongue, his hand shifting to grip your hair.

“Squeeze my thigh if it's too much, okay?” Your nod was enough to have him pushing his length past your parted lips, cock giving you no time to adjust as he pushed his hips forward. “Such an obedient little slut, aren’t you? Touch your clit for me, want you cumming with my cock shoved down your throat.” He growled, pushing his length as far down your throat as your tight mouth would allow.

“Oh fuck yeah, yeah, yeah that’s so– ohmygod you feel amazing.” You moaned the moment he afforded you a few seconds to breathe. Your fingers toyed with your clit just as he’d requested, but you were far too focused on swallowing his member to focus on the tingling feeling between your thighs. 

“Bet your pussy feels better though, doesn’t it baby? Filled all the way up with my fat cock.” He grunted, grip in your hair tightening as he thrust his length past your lips harshly. You squealed at this, sound muffled by the back and forth of his cock as he used your throat to chase his own release. It was hard to focus his gaze as he pushed his cock all the way to the base, your nose pressing against his toned flesh as you gagged, tears spilling down your cheeks.

“Are you crying? Yeah? Sir giving it to you too rough? This is what greedy girls get–a throat full of cock.” He growled, any hints of his prior softness dissipated with the tightening of your throat around his sensitive length. He started setting a pace, no longer mindlessly pushing you down his cock. Rather he pulled out of your swollen mouth, giving you a few seconds to breathe before he thrust in, repeating that motion again and again with a frenzied persistence. If he had any doubts about your feelings on the matter, your soaked cunt gave it all away. 

“God your pussy is drenched, sounds so good. Does it feel good, baby? Getting mouth fucked while you play with your little cunt for me?” He moaned, fucking your face with a new found fever, his approaching high numbing his senses until all that remained was the sound of your wet pussy clenching around nothing and the feeling of your tight throat seathing his desperate cock. In all of the blissful chaos though, the man couldn’t help but take pity on you; the tears streaming down your cheeks, drool coating your chin, was enough to have him pulling out. You instantly gasped for air, forehead falling against his thigh as you caught your breath.

“Sit up baby, spread your legs. Gonna paint your pussy with my cum–gonna make it mine.” He instructed, helping you back atop the chair when you looked at him with pleading eyes. Your chest still rose and fell, gaze glossy with fresh tears as you whimpered, barely able to register the possessive way he wanted to claim you beneath your heavy fatigue. 

“You gonna cum for me too, yeah? gonna fuck my cum inside you with my fingers while you play with your clit.” He was back to those sinful rambles, an apparent sign of his impending orgasm as he worked his cock, hovering above your spread legs while he watched you circle your clit violently. “Good girl, good girl, fuck.” 

“Yeah fuck, mine, my good girl, looking so pretty for me.” His pace picked up, abs tensing with every twitch of his cock. His tip leaked with presumptive release, small bouts of thick cum running down the head, aided in its journey by the drying slick of your spit. “So useless without me aren’t you baby? Can’t do anything without me, need me so badly.” 

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, oh god.” His words had you quickly barreling toward the edge again, consciousness slipping as you fell in and out of subspace. 

“Say you’re mine.” He growled, face contorted in the hottest expression you’d ever seen. He looked determined, the first that fucked his cock thrusting at such a frenzied pace you wondered if it was painful.  “Mmm” Was all you could manage, before a harsh slap to your cunt was enough to jolt you away from the fucked-out state you found yourself in. 

‘Say it, slut.” He insisted.

“I’m yours, all yours; only yours. No one else can make me feel like this, not even me, this pussy belongs to you.” Your words were all it took, his entire body shifting, twitching and shaking at the sudden onset of his climax. His knees almost buckled, the half-awkward position causing his muscles to burn and tense as he milked his cock of its stringy cum. Moan after moan fell from his lips as he watched it splatter against your lower half, your hungry cunt clenching as the warm liquid painted your clit and abdomen. 

Lowering to his knees again, he kept his promise, pulling your hand away from your puffy clit in favour of collecting up all the cum that settled on your skin, sticky substance coating two of his digits as he shoved it inside your overworked pussy. “Cum for me, come on. Don’t make me spank you again.” 

You moaned out, shrill noise almost awakening his cock once again as he drilled your cunt with his fingers, pushing his cum as far into you as your swollen walls would allow. “Good girl, that’s a good girl; such a good little cum slut.” He cooed as you lost all control, body seizing beneath the weight of another orgasm; the wave of ecstasy so sudden and unexpected it stole the air from your lungs, the noise from your voice.

Chan rode you through your high, pressing kisses to every inch of your inner thigh, fingers slowing to a halt inside you. Sweet praises filled the air as he pulled his digits from your defeated cunt, palms rubbing soothing patterns against your skin. He kept this up until the ability to move seemed to finally return to your aching limbs, your body shifting to sit upright. Your breathing was laboured as his eyes leveled with yours, searching for any signs of pain or discomfort.

“Are you okay?” He asked, fingers back to tracing your skin affectionately; an action that felt just a little too sweet considering the events that had just transpired. You nodded, still not quite able to form words as you moved forward, pulling him into your embrace, desperate to lean on him for support. He let you, of course he did, arms wrapping around your fatigued body as he pulled you against him. Your head fell to the crook of his neck when you lowered from the chair, awkwardly positioned atop his kneeling form until he shifted to accommodate you.

For a moment you stayed like this, the sounds of your breathing the only thing breaking through the heavy silence. It gave you both time to think, to come down from your post-orgasm bliss and retrace the events of your appointment. 

“Fuck, what are we doing.” Chan was the first one to speak, a heavy sigh pulled from his downturned lips. 

“I don’t know but I don’t want it to stop.” You whispered, neither of you making any attempt to put distance between you. 

“We have to.” His response was instant but insincere, there was no denying that now. Not even your anxiety could trick you into believing that Chan didn't want this.

“But do you want to?” You asked, making the first move as you pulled back to look him in the eyes. Maybe his mouth lied, but his gaze never could. 

“...No. do you?” He said after a beat in time, large gaze studying you just as you did him. His palms moved to grip at your bare waist, a single hand shifting to run up and down your right side, tracing the curve of your hips as he waited expectantly. 

You smiled, the fireworks that erupted behind every one of his caresses giving you the answer you'd been looking for: “Never.” 

“Never?” Chan stared at you dubiously, hand stilling at this. 

“Never.” You didn’t hesitate, head shaking. A small smile tugged at the corners of his lips, eyes flicking from feature to feature in search of any insincerity. He found none, only a flourishing of adoration that threatened to grow tucked behind your gaze. 

He decided to believe you. You decided to believe it too–hoped so badly for it to be true–wanted so badly to have finally found the cure. Needed so badly for him to be the cure.

<< back to dash // next episode >>

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A/N: jfc i nearly didn't finish this in time oopsies! semi-unedited again so apologies for any sloppy writing in places. thank you all for 200 followers!! next chapter is due for release at the 350 milestone <3

[yua0ra]

𝐁𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡, 𝐝𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠…

WARNINGS: mattheo riddle x fem!reader, porn with some plot, unprotected sex, p in v, dominant!mattheo, dirty talk, fingering, oral (fem receiving), position change, rough smut, established relationship, (consent although not explicitly stated), mattheo stating one day he will do anal with reader (there’s no anal in this post), pet names, sex in a public space (no one is there), NSFW, proofread, english is not my first language. smut 🂡

SUMMARY: After a playful bet with Pansy Parkinson, you find yourself in an intense, unforgettable encounter with Mattheo Riddle. What starts as a challenge quickly turns into something far more consuming, as Mattheo’s fiery passion gives way to a surprising tenderness. Despite his rough edges, his genuine admiration for you, shines through as he cares for you in the aftermath. The thrill of risk, the weight of unspoken emotions, and the undeniable chemistry between you and Mattheo.

WC: +5K AN: Finally! Your girl has managed to write some smut. ENJOY! MDNI

𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓:

Mattheo turns around, unable to hide the goofy smile that’s spread across his pretty face. His dark curls fall into his eyes as he glances down at you, the mischief in his expression softening into something warmer. The way his hand tightens around yours feels like a silent promise—steady and sure, as if he’s anchoring himself to you.

“You’re ridiculous,” you mutter, though your own lips are betraying you with the faint curve of a smile.

“Ridiculously in love, baby,” he quips, his grin widening as his thumb absentmindedly brushes over your knuckles.

The two of you continue walking, his laughter bubbling softly in the crisp evening air. The world around you fades, the sounds of distant chatter and rustling leaves blurring into the background. All that matters is the warmth of his hand in yours, the easy joy that spills from his lips, and the way his eyes light up every time he looks at you.

“What?” you finally ask, tilting your head to meet his gaze.

“Nothing,” Mattheo replies, his voice light but sincere. “I just like this. You and me.”

The simplicity of his words sends a flutter through your chest, and you squeeze his hand back, hoping it says what you can’t quite find the words for yet.

The path twists ahead, lined with skeletal trees swaying gently in the breeze. The glow of the moon casts an eerie silver light over the ground, making the old stones beneath your feet gleam faintly. Mattheo doesn’t falter, his pace steady as he guides you closer to the looming silhouette of the Shrieking Shack in the distance.

“Tell me again why we’re doing this?” you ask, your voice low but teasing, though there’s a hint of nervousness hidden behind it.

Mattheo smirks, glancing back at you with that familiar mischievous gleam in his eyes. “Because you’re secretly as much of a troublemaker as I am,” he says, his tone light, though his thumb still traces calming circles on the back of your hand.

You roll your eyes. “Or maybe because you dared me, and I’m too stubborn to say no.”

“Same thing,” he shoots back, his grin widening. “Admit it, love, you like a little danger.”

The Shrieking Shack comes into view now, its crooked frame outlined against the night sky. The windows are dark, the whole structure seeming to exude an unnatural stillness. Despite the chill creeping up your spine, you can’t help but match Mattheo’s excitement, his energy infectious as he slows to a stop in front of the fence that surrounds the infamous house.

“Ever been this close before?” he asks, his voice soft but daring as he peers through the broken slats of wood.

“No,” you admit, your fingers tightening around his. “And I’m starting to think that was a good thing.”

Mattheo chuckles, low and rich, as he steps closer to you, his shoulder brushing yours. “Relax,” he says, his voice warm and reassuring. “I’d never let anything happen to you. You know that, right?”

The sincerity in his tone makes your stomach flip, and for a moment, you forget about the dark, foreboding shack looming in front of you. His gaze holds yours, steady and unwavering, and the shadows around you don’t feel quite as ominous anymore.

“Alright,” you say softly, drawing in a breath. “Let’s do this.

His grin returns, wide and triumphant, as he reaches for the fence. With a quick glance over his shoulder to make sure you’re following, he climbs over with practiced ease before extending a hand to help you over.

As your feet touch the ground on the other side, you hear a faint creak from the house, the sound echoing in the still night. Mattheo looks back at you, a flicker of excitement and curiosity dancing in his eyes.

“After you,” he says with a mock bow, gesturing toward the front door of the Shrieking Shack.

“You’re impossible,” you mutter, though you can’t stop the smile that tugs at your lips as you step forward, his hand still firmly holding yours.

Turns out, the whole escapade was Pansy’s doing. The other day, she’d dared you and Mattheo to spend the night in the Shrieking Shack, her laughter ringing out as she leaned against the Slytherin common room couch. She was so sure you’d pull out at the last minute, claiming there was no way you’d go through with it. Mattheo, of course, jumped at the chance, a smug grin on his face as he’d said, “We’ll see you in the morning, Pans.”

Now, standing in front of the creaky old shack, you couldn’t help but think about the look on her face when you’d agreed. You weren’t sure what had made you so bold in that moment—maybe it was the way Mattheo had immediately taken your side, his confidence infectious. Or maybe it was the simple fact that you refused to give Pansy the satisfaction of seeing you back out.

“Do you think she really thought we wouldn’t do it?” you ask, glancing at Mattheo as he leans casually against the rickety front door.

He smirks, his dark eyes twinkling in the faint moonlight. “Oh, she was counting on it. Pansy lives for the drama.” He reaches out, wrapping his fingers around the rusty doorknob. “But what she didn’t count on was that you’re wilder than you look.”

You roll your eyes, but there’s a flicker of pride in your chest at his words. “And you? What’s your excuse for agreeing to this ridiculousness?”

He shrugs, pushing the door open with a groan that seems to echo into the night. “I’m a sucker for a good dare. And,” he adds, looking over his shoulder at you with a cheeky grin, “I couldn’t let you do this without me. Someone’s gotta protect you from all the ghosts, right?”

“Ghosts,” you repeat, raising an eyebrow as you step inside. “You’re not seriously buying into all the stories, are you?”

“Maybe.” His tone is teasing, but there’s a hint of something playful in his eyes. “What if the stories are true? What if we’re not alone in here?”

“Then it’s your fault we’re doing this,” you quip, your voice braver than you feel.

The inside of the Shrieking Shack is exactly as you imagined: old, creaky, and covered in layers of dust and cobwebs. The wooden floor groans beneath your feet as you step further inside, and the air smells faintly of mildew. Despite the eerie stillness, Mattheo seems completely at ease, his hand brushing yours as he walks beside you.

“See? Not so bad,” he says, his voice breaking the silence. “A little dusty, sure, but cozy.”

“Cozy?” you repeat with a laugh. “You’re delusional.”

“Delusional or charming?” he asks, throwing you a grin as he drops his bag onto the floor near an old, tattered sofa.

“Both,” you mutter, though you can’t help but smile.

The two of you settle in, laying out blankets and snacks that Mattheo had insisted on packing earlier. The night stretches on, and as the hours pass, the initial nerves start to fade, replaced by the easy comfort that always seems to come when Mattheo is around.

- ★、

He glances at you, his dark eyes reflecting the flickering candlelight as he leans in closer, his voice low and soft. "Baby, are you not bored? We've been here for hours now, just the two of us..." His gaze drops to your lips for a moment before flicking back up to meet your eyes. "Is this really what you want to be doing on a night out with your boyfriend?"

He reaches out, gently tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, his fingers lingering on your cheek. His touch is warm and gentle, a stark contrast to the chill in the air. "Because if you're not having fun, we can always find something else to do. Something a bit more... exciting." His voice drops to a low, intimate murmur on the last word, a hint of mischief glinting in his eye

“Matty… here? Really?” You softly giggle, looking at him trough long and heavy eyelashes.

Mattheo leans in closer, his eyes fluttering shut as he closes the distance between you. His lips meet yours in a soft, gentle kiss that sends a spark of electricity through your body. It's a tender kiss, almost reverent in its slow, deliberate exploration of your mouth. His hand slides from the back of your neck to cup your cheek, his calloused fingers a pleasant contrast to the smooth skin of your face.

As the kiss deepens, Mattheo's other arm wraps around your waist, pulling you flush against him. You can feel the firmness of his chest, the way his heart beats steadily beneath his ribs. His fingers tangle in your hair, tilting your head back slightly as he explores your mouth with a growing hunger.

When he finally pulls back, breaking the kiss, his eyes slowly open to meet yours. His thumb brushes over your lower lip, a gentle caress that makes your breath catch in your throat. His thumb making its way to the inside of your mouth as you suck on it.

Not for long though, as he pulls it back, straight into his own warm mouth.

He slides his hands under the hem of your shirt, his fingertips skimming over the smooth skin of your lower back. He pulls you flush against him, the heat of his body seeping into yours as his hands begin to explore the curves of your waist and the gentle flare of your hips.

He breaks the kiss, panting softly as he looks down at you with hooded eyes, a fierce intensity burning in their depths. "Can I... can I take this off?" he asks, his voice low and rough with desire. His fingers tremble slightly as he waits for your permission, the anticipation almost too much to bear.

Without waiting for your answer, he starts to slowly peel your shirt up and over your head. The cool air kisses your newly exposed skin, making you shiver. Mattheo's eyes darken as he takes in the sight of you, his gaze roaming over your body with a hunger that makes your heart race.

"Fuck, doll," he breathes out, his voice filled with awe and longing. "You're so fucking fit. You see these?" He cups the soft mounds of your breasts, his thumbs teasing over the hardened peaks of your nipples through the thin fabric of your bra. He looks up at you, his dark eyes smoldering with desire as he leans down, his mouth hovering just above the swell of your breasts. “These are mine baby… all mine.”

Without warning, he tugs the cup of your bra down, exposing your nipple to the cool air. His eyes flick up to yours, a wicked glint in their depths, before he leans in and takes your nipple into his hot mouth. He suckles gently at first, his tongue swirling around the sensitive bud, before growing bolder, sucking harder as his hand kneads the soft flesh of your breast.

A low, breathy moan escapes your lips, your fingers tangling in his dark curls as he lavishes attention on your breasts. The combination of his hot mouth and the scrape of his teeth against your sensitive skin sends jolts of pleasure coursing through your body, making your core throb with a needy ache.

Mattheo's other hand slides down your stomach, his fingers dipping teasingly beneath the waistband of your jeans. His touch is maddeningly light, not quite touching where you need him most, but close enough to make you squirm with anticipation. "Mattheo," you gasp out, your voice thick with desire. "Please..." You're not even sure what you're begging for, but the way he's touching you, tasting you, has set your body on fire, and you need more.

"Fuck, so perfect for me, huh?," He growls, his voice low and rough with desire. "I could spend hours worshipping these perfect tits, worshipping your beautiful body, face, heart…. You drive me insane."

His hand slides further down, cupping your mound through your jeans, applying a teasing pressure that makes you gasp. He chuckles darkly, a sound that vibrates through your chest. "Is this what you want, baby? You want me to touch this pretty little pussy until you're shaking and aching for me?"

He starts to slowly rub your clothed sex, his fingers moving in maddeningly slow circles. The denim of your jeans grows damp as your arousal builds, your hips starting to rock subtly against his hand. "Oh, look at you, my princess is so, so, so needy for me."

Mattheo leans down to capture your lips in a filthy kiss, his tongue plundering your mouth as he grinds the heel of his hand against your clothed clit. He swallows your moan, his voice a low rasp against your lips. "Tell me how badly you want it, gorgeous. Tell me how much you need my fingers buried deep in your tight little cunt, fucking you silly until the only thing you’re thinking about is how good your Matty takes care of you."

His other hand kneads your breast roughly, pinching and rolling your nipples between his fingers as he breaks the kiss to growl in your ear. "Beg for it, baby. Beg for my fingers, for my dick. Let me hear how desperate you are for me to fill you up and make you come all over me."

“Please baby…” Your voice merely a whisper, your tone laced with embarrassing neediness, “Want to feel good, need to feel good.” You keep begging. “Want to feel your fingers filling me up so badly, keeping me warm, until I cream messy and my pussy is stretched enough for you big cock.” You let a small whimper.

Mattheo's eyes darken with lust as he watches you, a smirk playing on his lips. "Merlin’s beard, babe, I love it when you say shit like that," he growls, quickly pulling his shirt over his head and tossing it aside. His chest is lean and toned, a light sheen of sweat glistening on his skin in the flickering candlelight. The sight makes you legs turn into jelly, unable to take your gaze off him.

He’s just… so fucking hot.

He leans down, capturing your lips in a searing kiss as his hands make quick work of your jeans, practically tearing them off your body in his haste. He breaks the kiss to look down at you, his gaze hungry as he takes in the sight of you laid out beneath him, clad in nothing but your soaked panties.

"Look at you, spread out like a fucking feast," he rasps, his fingers hooking into the waistband of your panties. He tugs on them making you exhale heavily, your pussy clenching to the fabric, to then drag them down slowly, his knuckles brushing against your sensitive skin, your arousal coating his fingers. "I knew you'd be dripping for me, baby. Fucking soaked and ready."

He tosses your panties aside and settles between your thighs, his breath hot against your dripping sex. He looks up at you, a wicked grin on his face."I'm going to make you feel so fucking good, doll. I'm going to eat you out until you become so fucking desperate,” He laughs, “such a perfect pocket pussy.”

He finally lowers his head, blowing air towards your heat and drags the flat of his tongue along your slit, a low groan rumbling in his chest at your taste. His hands grip your thighs, spreading you wider, as he starts to make out with your warm and moist lips. Eating you out like a starving man, his tongue delving between your folds to lap at your dripping essence.

You’ll never get tired of the feeling of Mattheo’s tongue in your body. “Oh, shit… mmhm.” You start to feel dizzy, the overwhelming sensation of pleasure too much to cope with, making you close your eyes.

Mattheo groans against your sex as he feels your body trembling beneath him, your fingers tangling in his hair as you hold him close. He can feel your arousal coating his chin, your juices dripping down onto the blankets below. The taste of you is intoxicating, and he can't get enough.

He starts to suckle on your clit, his lips wrapping around the sensitive bundle of nerves as he teases it with the tip of his tongue. At the same time, he slides a long, manly finger deep inside your tight heat, curling it just so to stroke that spot that makes your toes curl and your back arch off the floor.

"Fuck, you're so tight," he murmurs, his voice vibrating against your sex as he starts to pump his finger in and out, matching the rhythm of his tongue on your pussy. He adds a second finger, stretching you wider, filling you up just the way you need.

His other hand slides up your body, cupping your breast, kneading the soft flesh as he pinches and rolls your nipple between his fingers. He's touching you everywhere, stoking the fire building low in your belly, pushing you closer and closer to the edge.

"That's it, baby. Fucking coat my fingers," he growls, his eyes never leaving yours.

The vibrations from his mumbles and growls shake your body, building up such an addicting feeling at the centre of your stomach, your insides knotting together in pleasure just waiting to be undone. “Oh my God, Matty… you-you’re so good to me, bloody hell.”

His fingers shiny with your arousal as he pounds them into you, his tongue flicking rapidly over your folds. "I can’t wait to feel this pretty cunt squeezing the fuck out of my cock when I slide inside you. I want you all over me. Fucking drench me in it."

He curls his fingers just right, rubbing that spot that makes stars explode behind your eyelids as he suckles hard on your clit. Addicted to the way your body shakes and trembles as he pushes you over the edge.

“Oh shit! Fuck! I’m-I’m close baby…”

Mattheo can feel your body tensing, your inner walls starting to flutter around his plunging fingers as your climax approaches. He doubles his efforts, fucking you harder with his firm digits as he messily slurps and spits in your clit, spurred on by your desperate moans and the way your body writhes beneath him.

He looks up at you, his eyes dark and intense as he growls, "Come on then, baby.” He lovingly urges, “Come all over my fucking face. I want to taste your cum, want to feel it coating my mouth, want you inside of me."

He continues pumping in an unbelievable force, fingers curling and twisting inside you, stroking that spot that makes your vision go white. At the same time, he closes his lips around your clit and sucks hard, his teeth carefully tugging the sensitive bud as he teases out your climax.

He can feel your body starting to shake, your thighs clamping around his head as your orgasm crashes over you. He doesn't let up, continuing to stroke and suck, drawing out your pleasure until you're a writhing, moaning mess beneath him.

"Fuck yes, just like that…" he demands, his voice rough and ragged. "Let me hear how fucking good it feels, baby. Let those pretty sounds escape,” You can only moan louder, whine louder, barely able to pronounce words. “Yeah, that’s it, good girl… oh! Thats it, that’s it… so fucking precious” He chuckles, the sound so rich and full, turning you even more horny.

He keeps praising you, his movements impossibly harder, faster, deeper, fucking you through your climax as he pushes you to new heights of ecstasy. Your body convulses, your head thrashing on the blanket as the waves of pleasure consume you, leaving you gasping and shaking in the aftermath.

Mattheo finally pulls back, his face glistening with your climax as he looks up at you with a wicked grin. "Fuck, that was so hot," he rasps, his voice low and filled with desire. "You came so fucking hard, baby. I could feel you squeezing the life out of my fingers, fucking messy bitch.… My messy, filthy play bunny, am I right?"

He crawls up your body, his hard cock pressing against your thigh as he leans down to capture your lips in a searing kiss, letting you taste yourself on his tongue. "I'm going to fuck you now, baby. Can I fuck you?” He asks between sloppy and wet kisses “I'm going to slide my big, hard cock deep inside this tight little cunt, fuck”

You can only nod and whimper in pleasure, still high form the orgasm, but you crave more, you crave Mattheo in ways that are unhealthy obsessive. Not to worry though, because just as he has you wrapped around his finger, he is simply the same, kissing the floor you walk on, a heavy need in his chest to show you how much you mean to him.

He only smirks at your needy whimper, his ego boosted by the way you're still trembling with the aftershocks of your intense orgasm. He can see the desperation in your eyes, the hunger for more, and it spurs on his own desire.

He reaches down, his pants long gone, wrapping a hand around his hard, throbbing cock and giving it a few slow pumps. It's hot and heavy in his hand, the pretty pink tip already leaking with big pearls of need. He rubs the head through your dripping folds, coating himself in your arousal, letting out a low groan at the feeling of your slick heat. The filthy scene making his mind fuzzy.

"Fuck, you're still so tight," he grunts, his voice strained with the effort of holding back. He lines himself up with your entrance, the thick glistening head nudging against your opening. "I don't know if I can be gentle, baby. I want to fucking ruin you, want to make it so you can't fucking walk for days."

With that, he starts to push forward, his rock hard dick slowly sinking into your tight heat. He has to pause, his breath coming out in harsh pants as he fights the urge to just slam forward and bury himself to the hilt. He looks down at you, his eyes dark and intense, a bead of sweat dripping down his brow.

"Breathe, darling," he commands, his voice low and rough. "Breathe and relax, baby. Let me in, let me fucking warm you up."

He starts to push forward again, his pulsing shaft sinking deeper into your tight channel with each slow, steady thrust.

He's stretching you, filling you, the sensation of being so utterly complete by him that makes your eyes roll back in your head.

Mattheo leans down, capturing your lips in a hot kiss as he finally bottoms out, his hips pressing flush against yours. He groans into your mouth, his tongue plundering as he starts to move, pulling out slowly before slamming back in, setting a hard and fast pace.

He fucks into you with wild abandon, his hips slapping against yours with each powerful thrust. He's lost in a haze of lust, consumed by the feeling of your tight pussy gripping his cock like a vice.

"Take it, take it, fucking take it!" he snarls, his fingers digging into the flesh of your hips as he pounds into you. The floor creaks and shakes beneath you, slamming you against it with each thrust of his hips. "This is what you fucking wanted, isn't it? To be fucked into stupidity by my big, hard dick?"

He leans down, capturing your sensitive nipple between his teeth and biting down just shy of pain. His other hand slides between your bodies, finding your clit and rubbing it in hard, fast circles.

As you savour the overstimulation, Mattheo flips you over onto your hands and knees, your plump ass pointing up in the air. He takes a moment to admire the view, his eyes darkening with lust as he grips your ass cheeks roughly, kneading the soft flesh. "Fuck, this ass is perfect," he growls, giving your ass a sharp smack that makes you gasp. "Just for me… to be grabbed, spanked, fucked hard and raw."

He lines himself up with your dripping entrance, the thick head of his cock nudging against your swollen, sensitive folds. Mattheo leans over you, his chest pressing against your back as he grinds slowly against you, you juices mixing with his, the noises from the friction too lewd, too dirty, too fucking hot.

"I'm going to fuck this ass one day," he whispers hotly against your ear, his voice low and filthy. "Gonna shove my cock in this tight little asshole and make you scream for me. Bet it's never been fucked before, has it? Never had such a big, thick cock stretching it wide open?"

He doesn’t let you answer as he starts to push forward, the head of his veiny member popping inside your entrance with a loud squelch. He pauses, letting you feel the thick intrusion stretching you open as he reaches around to rub your clit in hard, fast circles.

"Push back, baby. Push this hot ass back on my cock and take it deep," he demands, his hips starting to move in shallow thrusts, working more and more of his thick length inside your tight heat. "Gonna fuck this cunt so hard, baby. Pound this pussy until you're fucking screaming, until the whole fucking school knows what a dirty girl you are for me."

Mattheo keeps one hand on your hip, gripping you tightly as he starts to pick up the pace, slamming into you with deep, powerful thrusts. The other hand stays on your clit, rubbing and stroking the sensitive nub as he fucks you harder and faster, his heavy balls slapping obscenely against your insides with each thrust.

"Yes, yes, fuck, fuuuck baby girl…" he snarls, holding into your ass with wild abandon."Take my fucking cock, you bitch. Milk it with this greedy cunt, fucking choke on my dick as I ruin this gorgeous pussy!"

Mattheo pounds into you with inhuman fervor, his hips moving in a blur as he chases their explosive release. The room fills with the carnal symphony of flesh slapping against flesh, your irresistible moans, and Mattheo's guttural, feral grunts echoing off the walls.

He leans over you, his sweat-slicked skin sticking to your back as he snakes a hand around to maul your bouncing breasts, pinching and tugging at your stiff nipples. His other hand flies back over your clenching, almost hurting clit, rubbing the sensitive bud in tight, frantic circles, pushing you ruthlessly towards the edge of literal oblivion.

"That's it, baby, shit! You make me feel so good. You know that? Ughh… !" Mattheo moans, his voice a primal, animalistic sound that sends shivers down your spine.

Your body starts to seize, back arching sharply as a mind-shattering orgasm crashes through you like a tidal wave. Your pussy clamps down on his pistoning cock like a velvet vice, rippling and fluttering wildly around his thick shaft as you come undone.

"FUCK, YES!" Mattheo bellows, slamming into you one last time as your climax triggers his own. His large shaft throbs and pulses, swelling even thicker inside your spasming walls before erupting like a volcano.

Scorching ropes of thick cum erupt from his cock, painting your insides white as he floods your womb with his seed. It feels like he's cumming for an eternity, his potent release seeming to go on and on as he grinds into you, pushing his come deeper with each twitch and jerk of his hips.

Your mind goes blank, your vision whiting out as pleasure more intense than you've ever known consumes you. You convulse and thrash beneath him, your body wracked with sensation, overwhelmed by the sheer ecstasy of your shared climax.

Mattheo collapses against your back, his body blanketing yours as he trembles and shudders above you. He pants harshly, his breath coming out in ragged bursts against your neck as he slowly comes down from his release.

With a soft grunt, he carefully rolls off of you, pulling you with him so that you're both lying on your sides, facing each other. He drapes a strong arm around your waist, tucking you close to his chest as he studies your face with a furrowed brow.

"Are you okay, baby?" he murmurs, his voice now low and gentle in contrast to the primal, lust-filled growls from before. His fingers come up to brush a sweat-dampened strand of hair out of your face, his touch sweet and tender.

"My beautiful baby… you're shaking... did-did I hurt you?"

Mattheo's thumb skims along your cheekbone, tilting your chin up so that you're forced to meet his gaze. There's a flicker of concern in his dark eyes, a hint of guilt as he takes in your flushed skin and the way your limbs feel heavy and weak.

You shake your head to dismiss his concerns, too tired to physically answer him.

"Fuck, I got a bit carried away there," he admits with a grimace, his arm tightening around your waist as if to keep you safe and close. "I didn't mean to be so rough, gorgeous. I know I was fucking hard, but you just... you felt so fucking good, I couldn't control myself."

He leans in, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to your forehead before trailing his lips down to press a passionate kiss to your lips. It's different from the hungry, desperate kisses from before - this one is slow, sensual, almost reverent.

"Let me take care of you," Mattheo whispers against your lips, his voice low and soothing. "Let’s go back to the castle so I can run you a bath, yes?." The bet long forgotten.

He starts to sit up, keeping you cradled in his arms as he sits.

He rummages through his bag, taking out his wand, and with a swift movement, you both aparate to his private dorm.

Mattheo leans down to press another kiss to your pouty lips, his hot breath lingering on your skin. “I love you like no other baby,” He mutters sleepily, the intense sex, catching up to him.

“Now breathe for me, pretty girl….”

[ariichive]

LONG AWAITED

anaxa returns to the city of okhema with one goal in mind.

yan!anaxa x gen. neutral reader.

tw: slight yandere, 3.1 main story quest spoilers, kidnapping kinda, not proofread :'), phainon appearance

⋆⁺｡˚⋆˙‧₊☽ ◯ ☾₊‧˙⋆˚｡⁺⋆

the air of okhema felt unidealistic as anaxa quickly turned away from the white haired chrysos heir, who's eyes held admiration and a hint of nervousness. anaxa could not blame phainon for being on edge, after all it's been some time since he's traveled far from the grove of epiphany; the tension with aglaea only intensifying.

phainon wasn't just worried about anaxa's distaste towards the dressmaster, but the fact a certain beauty happened to reside in okehma; one anaxa had a growing obsession with that aglaea had informed him about.

the scent of earth and lingering incense clung to the air as anaxa strode ahead, his pace brisk despite the weight of his thoughts. phainon hesitated before following, his fingers ghosting over the embroidery of his sleeves—a nervous habit he'd never quite shaken. the streets of okhema were alive, yet there was an undercurrent of unease threading through the revelry, as if the city itself was holding its breath.

"...professor anaxa, with all due respect, you should probably go rest." phainon said nervously as he watched the annoyance grow on the professor's face he didn't put any effort in to hide. anaxa brought a hand up to his head, already feeling his headache increasing.

"still as unrelenting as ever," anaxa said more to himself than phainon (who knew not take that as a compliment).

phainon shifted on his feet, uneasy under the weight of anaxa’s sharp gaze. the professor’s silence was rarely comforting; it carried the weight of words unspoken, of conclusions already drawn and judgments already made.

“if you keep straining yourself like this, your mind will falter before your body does,” phainon tried again, forcing his voice to remain even. “and considering how much you pride yourself on your intellect, i imagine that would be a rather devastating blow.”

anaxa exhaled through his nose, a slow, deliberate gesture that conveyed both irritation and restraint. “you assume exhaustion is a state that can be remedied by mere rest. a rather reductive view.” his fingers pressed against his temple, as if attempting to physically restrain the inevitable onslaught of thoughts. “the mind does not cease simply because the body demands reprieve. if anything, it accelerates in retaliation. an unfortunate contradiction of existence. now then, i must be on my way. more time spent here entwined in aglaea's threads is less time spent with my [name]."

“if something happens—”

anaxa halted, turning just enough to glance at phainon from over his shoulder.

“then it will be because i allowed it.”

and with that, he disappeared into the crowd, leaving phainon standing there, uncertain if those words were meant to be reassuring or a quiet promise of inevitability.

anaxa moved through the streets of okhema with a purpose, his every step measured, his every breath steady. the air here was thick with incense and candle smoke, curling through the alleyways in a way that made the city feel almost dreamlike. he ignored the idle chatter of merchants, the distant hum of music, the eyes that lingered on him longer than necessary.

his destination was clear.

past the winding streets, through the stone archways laced with ivy, beyond the courtyards filled with marble statues of nameless gods.

his mind churned through the possibilities of the night—outcomes, variables, countermeasures.

but then, as he neared the threshold of that familiar estate, he felt something tighten in his chest.

a presence.

not phainon. not aglaea.

you.

his fingers curled slightly.

the moment he stepped inside, he would no longer be professor anaxa, the ever-stoic scholar with a mind sharpened like a blade.

no, within these walls, he was something else entirely. something raw. something that could not be defined.

nothing about the outside of your residence has changed in the slightest. your same favorite greenery blooming by your door, the half broken pillar you have yet to fix, and even the familar sense of longing deep in anaxa's heart.

you were in there. goodness, how long has he deprived himself of your beauty?

with an almost shaking hand and a crazed smile, anaxa's hand slowly made its way to knock. one swift, sharp, knock.

the sound echoed in the still air, sharp and deliberate. anaxa’s fingers lingered against the wood for a fraction longer than necessary before he pulled back, exhaling through his nose in a measured attempt to steady himself.

he had rehearsed this moment in his mind countless times—constructed dialogues, crafted perfect syllables, envisioned every possible reaction you could give him. but now, standing here with his heart drumming an unsteady rhythm against his ribs, he found himself at war with something far less logical.

and when the door creaked open, revealing you—bathed in the glow of sunlight, as breathtaking as ever—he felt it.

that intoxicating, maddening sense of possession.

how could he have ever let himself stay away?

meanwhile, you were in utmost shock seeing the familiar face of an old friend standing outside your door. "anaxa!" you were quick to take his hand and pull him inside. "y-you're okay," your eyes were quick to scan over his body for injuries.

you heard about the bustling news around okhema, the fall of many at the grove of epiphany by the newly announced flame reaver. with the news of no survivors being found, you were immensely relieved to see anaxa.

anaxa allowed himself to be pulled inside, though his expression remained unreadable, save for the flicker of something unreadable—relief, amusement, or something far more dangerous—when he felt your hands on his.

“of course, i’m okay,” he murmured, tilting his head slightly as he watched you scan him for injuries. “you underestimate my ability to persevere.”

but there was something strange in the way he spoke. something distant.

the warmth of your concern should have soothed him, but instead, it only deepened the ache inside him. you were still the same—soft, caring, unguarded in your worry for him. and he?

he still had this dark desire within him.

you, however, seemed oblivious to the turmoil beneath his carefully composed exterior. you cupped his face gently, your thumb grazing the sharp line of his jaw. “you’re burning up,” you whispered, concern lacing your voice.

anaxa let out a breathless chuckle, a sound devoid of humor. if only you knew.

“it’s nothing,” he dismissed, though he didn’t pull away. “simply the remnants of a journey longer than intended.”

your frown deepened. “you should rest. whatever happened at the grove… it must have been—”

his hand shot up, fingers wrapping around your wrist—not harshly, but with enough force to halt your words. his grip was steady, calculated, yet there was something almost desperate in the way he held you.

his thumb brushed idly over your pulse, feeling the steady rhythm beneath his fingertips. a scholar by nature, anaxa had spent years studying patterns, deciphering truths from the subtlest details. and right now, your heartbeat told him everything—your worry, your hesitance, your trust.

trust.

his jaw clenched. did he still deserve it?

slowly, as if realizing the intensity of his own actions, anaxa loosened his grip, allowing his hand to drift away. “forgive me,” he murmured, his voice softer now, yet no less heavy. “it seems exhaustion makes a tyrant of me.”

you didn’t move for a moment, your eyes searching his, looking for something—an answer, perhaps, or reassurance.

maybe it was cerces playing a trick on him for his lack of belief in the gods. her former yearning for mnestia seeping through into him, enhancing his already deep need for you.

he took a slow, deliberate step closer, as though drawn by an invisible force, his presence closing the space between you without any words spoken. his eyes searched yours with an intensity that bordered on desperation, yet his expression remained calm, composed, almost as if he were fighting against something larger than himself.

“do you feel it too?” he asked, his voice a quiet rasp.

feel what? you wanted to ask. the tension in the air, the pull of something darker than you understood.

but instead, your breath hitched, something shifting within you as you stood there, uncertain whether to pull away or step closer. you couldn’t tear your eyes from his—this man, your old friend, your anaxa—but now, the person standing before you felt like something different altogether.

and suddenly, the truth was clear in the depth of his gaze.

he wasn’t here because of what had happened at the grove. he wasn’t here for the tragedy.

he was here for you.

and he wasn't going to leave without you.

“[name], you feel it too right? the gods won’t be here to save you either.”

[moonlight-prose]

origins logan, raw, passionate, in a truck, while it rains, a little wine drunk. Yeah. 😁

i have no clue if this is a request or just a thought, but i ran with what my mind thought up. but also cause i haven't written anything fully in two months so this is me practicing to get my voice back. enjoy the heinous mess.

warnings: 18+ only past this point.

You expected to freeze with the shitty little heater blowing air cold enough to raise bumps on your flesh. The overbearing echo of rain slamming against the rusted exterior of his worn in (near broken) truck. You expected to die of hypothermia. With the coroners report noting the time of death to be the second he opened that bottle of wine.

You expected a lot of things to go wrong.

That's how you managed to survive this long. In a world so hellbent on destruction, you took the cynics way out and managed to save time on the ride. Things were fucked, hope somehow managed to become a commodity the wealthy could profit off of. And mutants were enemy number one without actually being hunted for fun.

So you took note of the way your breath hung in the air—the flavor of bitter cheap red wine like a pungent toxin that only sunk you deeper onto the silver claws of fate that promised protection. Even as they offered exposure to the elements. You watched as his eyelids grew heavy, his gaze fixed on the way your top gaped and fingers gripped onto the soft leather of his jacket.

You expected this to go wrong too.

That your words would fall on deaf ears, that you would fumble as he slid a hand between your denim clad thighs. How long would it take for him to jolt back to reality? To understand that you were far too much for him to handle as the world fell on his shoulders.

How long could you get away with feeling wanted, yearned for?

When your fingers clawed at the leather seats in the back, your mouth open and chapped from the cold, is when you stopped. Thoughts slipped past the inner psyche of despondent reality. Hope washed over your spit covered shoulders as he bit down on the plush skin with a grunt. Life appeared bright and hot and burned with something new the second he plunged into your sopping cunt.

"That's it," he muttered, lips catching the shell of your ear as his cock carved a new path in your once aching body. "Open up for me baby."

Your words escaped as a mewl. Eyes rolling back and nails digging new shapes into seats he'd have to fix.

He laughed at your mindless state of bliss. "Gone and made you dumb huh? Cleared out that pretty head of yours."

"L-Logan," you managed to grunt, hips slapping back to his quick timed thrusts that struck gold.

"'S okay." Another bite to your spine had your thighs shaking, the slap of his balls lewdly hitting your clit made sparks embed themselves into your soul. "I like ya better this way. You think too fuckin' much anyways. Gotta shut out the bad shit don't I?"

"I'm gonna-"

"Yeah I know you are," he bit out, fingers digging shapes of intent into the flesh of your hips.

You were aware of the truck rocking back and forth. Of the mist gathering on frozen windows and your moans swallowing the sound of rain. You could feel the tingle of red wine in the base of your stomach. The haze of its beauty clouding everything but him and the small confines of this hot car. You were aware of nothing going wrong, of his cock grinding wet and raw into you, of the pool of slick forming on the seat of his car.

Nothing bad existed in this sphere of bliss. Nothing horrid could happen.

Claws punctured the seat beside your head, his hips slapping fast enough to hurt as the tight coil of tension snapped hard enough to halt your heart.

"Fuck!" he roared, sinking into you deep enough to scrape something aching and lovely. His cock twitching hard with each spurt of cum—spilling out onto your mess on shitty brown leather.

Sucking in a breath felt easy, uncomplicated. Your mind drifted into blank thoughts and images of him. Into a state of bliss with Logan's name scratched on the walls.

You expected to freeze. To lose a limb or two from the air cold enough to kill. But then his body settled over yours, his hands cradling your stomach, face pressed into your back. And warmth became the only language you spoke.

[eiightysixbaby]

winter dreams

pairing: eddie munson x fem!reader

eddie really wants to give you a baby for christmas

cw: 18+ ONLY - SMUT. reader and eddie are actively trying to get pregnant, unprotected piv, creampie

The fire crackles in the fireplace beside you, orange embers licking at the logs below them. The carpet is plush beneath your bare back, skin pleasantly warm from the flames.

There’s a Christmas tree in the corner of the living room, its pretty colored lights partnering with the fire to cast the prettiest glow across the space. A Bing Crosby holiday album plays from the record player, volume turned low, making him sound far away; dreamlike.

Your eyes wander momentarily to the window, and you can see the snow falling down in slow, fluffy flakes. It’s like you’re inside of a snow globe, and someone just shook it upside down. You smile warmly, letting this moment wrap you up in its joy.

Eddie rocks slowly into you, hands braced on the floor beside your head. Every move he makes is entirely intentional, filling you completely full of him with each thrust. Despite his loving pace, it still knocks the breath out of you, feeling him all over you; everywhere.

You let out a satisfied hum, to which he grunts softly in response. His wide, beautiful brown eyes look down at you, twinkling with the reflection of the lights. Long lashes flutter before his eyelids close, face leaning into yours to press a kiss to your mouth, open in a sigh of his name.

"Fuck, baby," he groans. "Feel like fucking heaven." His voice is deep and husky, and it seems to wrap around you, enveloping you in the affection that pours from him.

You don't really respond, aside from another moan. He's turning you to mush, slowing down your brain, rendering you incapable of forming a sentence. Your fingers dig into his shoulder blades, nails digging in to his soft skin.

"Are you feeling good, sweetheart?" he asks, watching the way your eyes roll back as he delivers another deep thrust.

Typically, that question would come out a little cocky; smug. He'd be pounding you senseless, knowing damn well he's making you feel so good and also that you're in no state to respond to him. But right now, there's nothing but pure adoration behind his ask. This is love-making in its purest form, slow and steady and passionate, hands caressing tenderly and lips moving languid across searing skin.

"Yes," you gasp. "So good, baby," your brain manages to string the words together, leaving you breathily.

A pleased noise erupts from deep in his throat, and his mouth dips down to kiss the side of your face, trailing purposefully down to your neck.

"God, I love you," he murmurs into the crook of your neck, strands of his unruly curls tickling your neck.

It drags another high-pitched sound from you, and that's all the response he needs.

"Gonna get you pregnant, holy shit," he pants, statement enunciated by the slick, wet sounds of his cock sliding in and out of you.

And that was always the plan, but hearing him say it now, in the heat of the moment, has your walls clenching around him, your brain fuzzy with desire.

"That what you want, baby? Hm? Want me to give you a baby for Christmas?"

You whimper, back arching til your tits are pressed against his chest, eyes screwing shut.

“Need you to use your words, honey,” he coaxes, letting his mouth dip to your cleavage, pressing a kiss featherlight to the skin.

“Yes, Eddie,” you burn. “That’s what I want.”

It’s something you’d both been talking about for a while. A baby. You’d been less and less cautious during sex lately, rolling with the mindset of, ‘if it happens, it happens’. But this, tonight— this feels more intentional, more promising.

His tongue swirls around one of your nipples, hips unwavering in their steady rocking.

“Good, baby. ‘M gonna give it to you,” he rasps, bringing his mouth back up, bottom lip dragging hot up the column of your throat until he catches your own mouth.

His tongue slots between your lips, moving slow with yours, sending a shiver straight through you. The rough pad of his thumb carefully finds your clit, snagging on it, rubbing in soft circles. A moan catches in your throat, coming out strangled, head tipping back against the soft carpeting.

“Oh, fuck,” you whine, feeling that familiar swell of tension in the pit of your stomach.

“C’mon, baby. You gonna cum for me?”

“Yes. Yes, yes, yes,” you chant, letting him play your body like an instrument, getting such pretty sounds out of you; working you up to your crescendo.

The weight of him on top of you is grounding, comforting as he sends you tipping over your edge. A few more swirls of his finger around your bud timed perfectly with his deep thrusts has you unraveling entirely. You moan unashamedly, hands desperately pulling him secure against your chest as your body shakes.

“Fuck, sweetheart,” he pants, his voice wrecked. “I’m gonna cum, gonna cum inside you—”

And just like that, you can feel his cock twitching and his hips stilling, your insides coated with his release. He curses and groans, the noises dizzying, music to your ears. Two chests heave in unison, rising and falling, rising and falling as you both catch your breath. He doesn't pull out, in fact you think he might even push himself deeper, like he's really trying to make his seed stick.

He kisses you like it's his last moment on earth, like he's trying to breathe life into you and steal the life from you all at once. Bodies still entwined, still connected.

When he pulls away, everything feels still. The record player croons, dreams of white Christmases floating through the air. The look in Eddie's eyes says everything, no need for words.

If this were a dream, you'd never want to wake up. You're pretty certain it's real, though.

[uglypastels]

the Special | Sanji x reader

a/n - my first One Piece fic. absolutely terrifying but definitely a needed change of scenario to get out of my writing block. please be kind; I'm taking all my inspo from the live-action as that is what I am currently the most familiar with. but, well, we just have to see how it goes. bon appetite

Shoutout to my dear @mydearzero for encouraging my newfound obsession with this show and this character, as well as generally encouraging me to write. this is all your fault. And to everyone else who had been expecting me to finally post one of the other million fics I had promised... I'm sorry

And kind reminder that reblogs is what makes tumblr work. Please, if you enjoyed the story, reblog

word count: 9.9k

warning: 18+ only. MDNI. smut. piv sex. oral sex (f!receiving). unprotected sex [wrap up your eggplants yall]. semi-public sex. several FDA regulation code breaks, probably. afab reader. swearing. little bit of angst. shitty and fat-shaming [oc!]boyfriend/date. fist fight. alcohol consumption.

“Look at your waiter's face. He knows. It's another reason to be polite to your waiter; he could save your life with a raised eyebrow or a sigh.”

― Anthony Bourdain, 

The first thing you saw was the red, bright sign spelling out the restaurant's name.

Baratie. You had no clue what it meant but could only hope that “the best restaurant in the East Blue” was somewhere down the list of its definitions, especially after the months that they had kept you on the waiting list and the tumultuous trip that it took to sail there. Next, as your ship approached, you saw the… fish head. The sight of the sculpture at the front of the ship structure buried some worry in the pit of your stomach, but surely, if so many people had given it such fond reviews, the exterior was not to speak for what awaited you inside. 

‘Believe me, baby, you’ll love it here.’

‘I really hope so,’ you smiled as you got off your boat. Your legs shook at the knee as you stepped onto the sturdy dock planks. Days at sea, which had never been your friend, had clearly done more damage than you expected. You would have been on the floor if it wasn’t for the pair of arms holding on to you.

‘Thanks, Chosi,’ you said towards your boyfriend as he helped you steadily get back onto your feet. 

‘Can’t have you faceplant the second we get here,’ he brushed some invisible dust off your shoulder, and with his arm entwined with yours, he led you to the entrance of the establishment. You grabbed at the skirt of your dress to keep it down as the wind blew by.

As you walked, you looked at all the other ships harboured on the… was this an island? Was the entirety just one large ship? Was it anchored to something then, or was it drifting around the seas constantly? You couldn’t quite comprehend the logistics of it all. But you could tell that humans and other creatures of all walks of life–royalty, commoners, marines, pirates—were unbothered by each other's presence and enjoying the outing. Once inside, the shushed sound of the waves was exchanged for a whisper of swing music, as well as the chatter of the restaurant’s patrons and the clinking of their cutlery on plates. The walls were lined in crimson wallpaper as well as painted depictions of sea battles, accented in gold and bronze details matching the furniture placed spaciously around the room and the two stories above it that lead the eye to a beautiful aquamarine ceiling that gave the illusion as if one was looking up at the bright sky from underwater. 

The maitre’d, a Fishman, stood to attention at your entrance. 

‘Good afternoon, how may I help you?’ he asked kindly. 

‘We have a reservation. Name is Chosi,’ Chosi stated with his head held high. Despite you doubting that anyone knew his name in these parts of the world, he never ceased to pronounce it with a level of expectation to it. It was commendable, as well as disappointing, when nothing happened afterwards. The maitre’d simply nodded and glanced down at his long list of names, searching for the one he had just heard, ready to cross it off.

 ‘Ah, yes, right here. Please, do follow me to your table.’ And so, you did just that, walking down the grand staircase onto the restaurant's main floor, where you seated at one of the smaller tables, perfect for a romantic dinner for two. ‘Your waiter will be right with you.’ The Fishman bid you farewell just like that and returned to his position at the door. 

‘So?’ Chosi looked at you with a raised brow as you looked around.

‘It is quite stunning.’ You must admit that you did not expect this kind of splendour when looking at the carved fish that gaped at you outside. Something about that just did not exude the same essence as the timeless and classy beauty of the interior. You barely even felt the shake of the waves beneath you. 

Maybe your response wasn’t sufficient, for Chosi had opened his mouth to respond, something in the angles of his face announcing displeasure, but he was interrupted by a new presence at your table. You looked up at the tall figure towering over you. 

‘Welcome,’ the man spoke, his accent clearly indicating his origin if only you had been aware of where that was. Simultaneously, he put down a plate of bread rolls, perfectly and meticulously positioned atop it. ‘...to Baratie. My name is Sanji; I will be your waiter this afternoon.’

‘Took you long enough.’ Chosi mumbled under his breath, giving you an immense urge to kick him underneath the table, but you knew better than to do that, especially when he did not seem to be ready to stop any time soon. ‘Trying to convince my girl this place is worth visiting, heh.’ You could feel your cheeks burning up in embarrassment. Nevertheless, the waiter—Sanji, he said was his name—did not seem to give the comment much thought as he looked down at you with a curve to his thin-lined lips.

‘My apologies, madame; I hope my service will not give you the false impression of this establishment being worth any of your precious time.’ The smoothness of his voice almost concealed the true meaning behind his speech, leaving you, as well as your date, speechless. However, you felt your speaking ability to be taken away by more than just his words as you spared a second to take your waiter in properly. You just could not help but notice how his suit wrapped around his arms, and although one was covered by his blonde hair, his eyes had a glint of something that excited you despite not even knowing the root of that excitement. 

Like nothing had happened, Sanji continued, ‘Would you care to see the menu? Hear the specials?’ That is when you noticed the menu cards he was holding in his hand. And he must have been ready to list the special items, but Chosi was a step ahead. 

‘Actually, I think we are ready to order.’ That was the first you had heard of it, but you stayed put as he continued. After all, Chosi had eaten here before. He knew what was good, and you could trust his judgement. 

‘Prime rib, medium rare,’ as your boyfriend spoke, you kept your eye on the waiter, noticing the appearance of the smallest of flinches in his face at the sound of the dish, but never faltering his picture-perfect appearance, ‘and my lady will have the salad.’

Another twitch, right below his visible eyes, followed, but Sanji’s professional facade stayed on as he inquired: ‘We offer quite a variety of salads; which would madame prefer?’ And with that, he turned to you, that smile plastered on like a sticker, but he had trouble keeping it on as the answer to his question did not come from your mouth.

‘Whichever is the best, of course.’ Chosi rolled his eyes, and you wished you could do so as well. The waiter glanced between you and him, turning back to you momentarily. Long enough for you to give him a reassuring smile. It would be in everyone’s best interest if he just moved on from the matter. 

‘Drinks, then,’ Sanji again spoke with an unphased essence about him, as if nothing from the past few minutes had ever occurred, or at least tried to emulate this. ‘Madam, anything I can get you?’ The way he emphasised that word didn’t require any pointed glares. 

‘Uhm,’ you hesitated as he kept his full attention on you, completely ignoring the man sitting opposite you at the table, making Chosi stare at you just as, if not more, intensely, for all the opposite reasons. Out of panic, you just blurted out the most straightforward order. ‘Just water, thank you.’ It being the first words you said in the waiter's presence, they came out soft. Nothing like your regular voice, which startled you slightly. 

‘Still, sparkling or mineral?’ Sanji pursued. 

‘Still please,’ you smiled shyly, unsure where that actual shyness derived from. 

‘Ice? Cubed or crushed?’ He fired the questions at a rapid pace.

‘A bit of ice is fine. Thank you,’ you repeated yourself, looking down at the table and letting the waiter move on to the rest of the order. He didn’t say anything else but looked at Chosi with anticipation. 

‘I’ll have your finest brew.’

‘Coming up,’ his voice had a sudden coldness to it as he walked away, back to the kitchen, leaving the table to a thick silence. 

‘I could have ordered for myself, you know,’ you said, with that same soft tone you had spoken with earlier, although this felt much more familiar seeing who you talked to. 

 ‘And have you stuff yourself with some useless carbs? C’mon, you know I’m just looking out for you, here.’ 

‘I know.’ You straightened out a fork in front of you, suddenly feeling uneasy at how far away from the plate it was positioned compared to the knife on the opposite side. You were straightening out a crease in the tablecloth when Sanji returned with a silver tray in one hand. He placed the pint glass full of golden brew in front of Chosi before turning your way and setting a glass beside your plate. With a pair of tongs, one by one, he let ice cubes fall to the bottom of it, the clinking against the glass almost deafening. Then, he followed up with another pair of tongs and reached for a little tray but stopped himself to ask you: ‘Care for a slice of lemon, madame?’

‘Oh, uhm, sure,’ you shrugged, unable to look away. This process of pouring a glass of water felt rather extensive, but you could not deny the fact you were enjoying it all. As he grabbed the large pitcher to pour the water, you were unsure how he had carried all of these items with one hand and did so seemingly effortlessly.

‘There we go,’ he smiled, ‘your food will be with you shortly, but do let me know if you require anything else.’ And just like that, he was gone again, but not without leaving you feeling that he had meant his parting words especially for you and that that sentiment had undoubtedly not escaped your date.

‘I don’t like the look of that guy.’ Chosi glared at you as he took a sip from his pint, slurping up the top layer of foam with it. 

‘I think he’s quite sweet.’ You straightened out the fork again and reached for a bread roll to tear it apart piece by piece. 

‘Of course you would,’ he rolled his eyes, which made you look up from your little snack.

‘What is that supposed to mean?’ You put the bread roll down as the pit in your stomach hollowed out your appetite. Right, making space for that damn salad.

‘Nothing.’ Chosi shrugged, ‘Just that it's typical that somehow I’m the only one to notice when some guy is trying to cop a feel.’

‘He was doing no such thing.’ You had to bite your tongue not to raise your voice as his insinuation, despite being on the waiter's actions, seemed to be brutally judging yourself. ‘The poor guy is just doing his job. I’m not bothered by it, and neither should you be.’ Usually, you would attach some sweet nickname at the end of that sentence, but this was one too many times you had said a variant of the confirmation, and you were growing tired of just the thought of it.

Somewhere in the distance, a table erupted into a shouting match that had to be broken up by a handful of waiters. While usually, you turned away from such brutalities, never having been fond of violence and not particularly having a necessity in seeing people getting their teeth punched out minutes before eating a meal, this time you stretched your neck out to glance across the room, secretly hoping to catch a glimpse of the white-blonde hair among the rousing heads. Someone had pulled a pistol, but the weapon was kicked out of the man's grip before they could shoot or even alarm people enough to hide beneath their tables. Just like that, the restaurant resumed its normal state of pleasantries, and you got back to your abysmal date and hoped it was still worth saving… or that saving was still even an option to begin with. 

‘From what you had told me about the place, Chi, it is much grander than I had expected.’ You smiled, and he nodded to your affirmations.

‘Well, I didn’t want to raise the expectations too high, but you know I don’t do anything but the best for you, sweet cheeks.’

‘Of course—’ you were interrupted by the footsteps nearing your table, and the weight nearly lifted off your shoulders at the sight of Sanji carrying too large plates. 

‘Hello there,’ he grinned slyly, ‘hope I don’t interrupt anythin’.’ 

‘Not at all,’ You moved your glass aside to make space for your dish, but Sanji put Chosi’s plate down first, announcing the food.

‘Prime rib, medium rare, for the gentleman.’ Like everything else, he precisely placed it so the gold details on the plate faced the diner exactly right. The roast glistened in the restaurant's dim light, and the smell hit you right at the nerves that reminded you of your hunger. But that was for the gentleman, and the gentleman had ordered for you the—

‘And for the madame,’ Sanji put a plate in front of you, ‘what I like to call the Sanji Special.’

You looked down at your plate of food with a stunned expression and then looked back up. Just in time, you caught the slight wink that your waiter had sent you before stepping back to then, with a nod, say, ‘Bon appetite.’ 

He got to take about three steps and had just turned his back towards your table when Chosi called out to him, clearing his throat. ‘Ehem, excuse me, Sonny.’ 

‘Is there a problem?’ Sanji returned with his hands behind his back, but you didn’t need to see his fists to know he was clenching them. It was all visible in the strain of his upper arms and jaw as he restrained himself to keep up a polite smile. 

‘I am pretty sure we had ordered a salad?’ Chosi tried to play it off with a casual laugh, but it turned out to be anything but. Sanji leaned forward to grab the plate, but then your boyfriend exclaimed, ‘No, not for me; for her.’ before the waiter got his hand on his prime rib.

With a satisfied smile, Sanji glanced at your plate and stated: ‘That is a salad.’

Not that you did not appreciate what was in front of you, but if it was a salad, it was the loosest interpretation of the definition possible. You had to keep your laugh in as he explained that the dish was a “twist on kensui salad with steamed components, egg, and pork” or, in your simpler terms… the most delicious-looking pot of ramen you had ever encountered in your life, but no, definitely not a salad in the traditional sense. You smiled at the food, not daring to look up at Sanji while your boyfriend’s head seemed to be boiling alive, but the waiter was a step ahead of you. 

‘Ah, almost forgot, for the lady,’ almost out of nowhere, he made a pair of chopsticks appear for you. 

‘She will not be eating that,’ Chosi grunted. 

‘I think that is for her to decide,’ Sanji didn’t even bother to look at him, keeping his sweet smile on you, which, in turn, rushed a hot flush over your cheeks. 

‘Chosi, don’t be like that; this looks delicious.’ You spoke, hoping he would calm down and let you finally sink your teeth into this gorgeous meal. After a tense second, Chosi finally huffed out and sank back down in his chair, making you realise he had been on the verge of getting up for whatever reason. Either way, his intentions could not have been good. In the meantime, Sanji excused himself once more to finally leave you to eat. 

You had perhaps taken half a bite when Chosi, his food untouched, spoke up again. ‘Why do you always do this?’

‘Do what?’ your throat tightened around the pork you had just swallowed.

‘Embarrass me like that?’ He sighed, a vein in his forehead looking more prominent than ever.

‘I didn’t—’

‘Cut the shit, you know what you’re doing.’ Chosi slammed his fist on the table, startling you and the few people sitting at the nearest tables to you.

‘Please, can we not do this now,’ you kept your head down, ignoring all the pairs of eyes that must have started catching on to what was happening. Chosi had turned red from anger by that point. 

‘What, am I being too much for you? Imagine what it’s like going out with a slut—’

‘Chosi!’ you snapped, immediately covering your face with your hand as if you had not meant to shout and grab the attention of even more people. 

Deep breath in. 

Out. 

‘What the fuck is wrong with you?’ You hissed at the man across the table from you. 

‘With me? You’re the one that has been eyefucking the waiter this whole time, and now you disrespected me like that in front of him? Do I mean so little to you?’

‘I did no such thing.’ You rolled your eyes, catching glimpses of the room you were in. The people that sat around, the employees. Of course, Sanji stood only a few tables away, taking an order. Could he hear what was happening? Most likely, the idea of that burned you in a new, much more unpleasant manner. Chosi must have said something, but you had been too occupied by your surroundings and too tired to even listen to what other vile things he had to tell you. The only thing that kept you at that table was the food, but no matter how good, it wasn’t worth enduring him. ‘You know what,’ you grabbed your napkin and slapped it onto the table, ‘I can’t do this right now. I’ll see you on the boat.’ The chair shrieked as you shoved it back.

‘Where the hell do you think you’re going,’ Chosi growled practically, and despite you having already turned your back to him, you heard his own chair scrape the deck floor. You had your eyes squeezed shut as you got ready for what was coming. He reached out, but nothing happened. 

You looked over your shoulder to see Sanji pulling Chosi in by the sleeve. 

‘Believe me, we don’t wanna do that, mate.’ Sanji said, his eyes filled with a new rage that made you take a step back.

‘Let go of me, you sleaze.’ Chosi suddenly reminded you of a feral kitten, how he tried to wriggle himself out of the waiter’s grip. ‘I’ll make you regret ever touching me. Do you know who I am?’

‘Do I look like I give a shit?’ he let go with a laugh, almost pushing Chosi to the ground. As your date dusted off his sleeves, Sanji took a step forward, pressing himself against him. Now that both men were standing face to face, did you only realise how much taller Sanji was than your boyfriend. How much bigger and, most likely, how much stronger. With a hushed and reserved tone yet somehow full of intimidation, the waiter said, ‘Don’t you ever try to touch or speak to a woman like that again, you hear me? Or I’ll make you regret you were ever born.’ 

Chosi could only nod with his eyes blown wide open. The restaurant was dead quiet, unable to pull their eyes away from the scene unfolding before them. No one said anything or moved, and yet, somewhere, a stack of plates fell. The crash of porcelain echoed through the space, and Sanji turned his attention toward the kitchen’s double doors for a second. That quick moment was enough for Chosi to find his moment and attack.

Or at least make an attempt at it. 

Sanji was still looking toward the kitchen, and Chosi’s fist was in mid-air, but the waiter flawlessly manoeuvred around it, swinging himself back and letting Chosi fall forward. To make matters worse, Sanji supplemented the fall by kicking him over. If it wasn’t for the fact that your boyfriend’s chin had smacked against the table, you would have missed the entire thing, as Sanji’s movements were so elegant that it seemed as if he had not moved at all. He might as well have been refilling your water, ignorant of the groaning mess of a man he had kicked down to the ground with such ease. 

Chosi got up shakily. A nasty cut was already dripping blood from the underside of his face, but the redness didn’t compare to the rage on his face. He looked around until his eyes caught yours. ‘What, you’re just gonna stand there like some dumb–’

‘What did I just say?’ Sanji said, this time much louder, not trying to hide the row from the rest of the diners. But before he could make another move, Chosi reached for the nearest thing he could reach, which in his case was your dish of ramen, and threw a fistful of noodles Sanji’s way, hitting him square in the chest. 

Silence. 

He must have been too stunned at the audacious strike to move out of the way for it. Everyone must have been watching the noodles unstick from his navy jacket and slowly fall to the ground, then watched as Sanji raised his head back up, his expression unamused and cold, but his eyes filled with a passionate and furious fire. One that was enough to live up to the promise he had made the man you had come to the restaurant with. And so, just like that, without another word needing to be said by anyone, you watched Chosi back away—one, two, three steps, whimpering and mumbling some comments that could almost make up an apology, before he sprinted up the stairs to the exit. 

‘Ridiculous,’ you heard Sanji mutter under his breath. ‘Fucking waste of food.’

Before you could think any better about it, you walked up and knelt down, as he did, to reach for the spilt noodles. ‘I am so sorry,’ you started apologising. ‘I swear normally he–’

  ‘Is exactly like that,’ Sanji chuckled with a rasp. You looked up at him, a bit dumbfounded. He had managed to scoop most of the food before you had and was already getting up. ‘You have nothing to apologise for.’ One of his colleagues had been quick with bringing over cleaning supplies. ‘If anything, I should be the one saying sorry. Let me make it up to you—a drink in the bar, on the house.’

‘No, that is really not necessary.’ You couldn’t accept anything for free after your boyfriend pulled off such a scene and… had run off without paying. The realisation hit you like a brick on the head as you cursed under your breath with a strong sense of panic, which Sanji caught on to immediately. 

‘Please,’ He reached gently for your arm. ‘I insist.’

You stuttered for a moment before actually answering in defeated agreement. With a satisfied smile, Sanji led you to another exit, leading to the bar deck. ‘Right this way, madame.’

The bar deck, located in the mouth of that giant fish head, was moderately empty. Except for you and the appointed barman behind the counter, only a handful of others were sprinkled across the couches and futons. You chose a seat overlooking the sea and the setting sun that coloured the sky and waters an array of warm colours. 

You understood that you had to go up to the bar to order, but you felt no particular need for it, just enjoying the breeze that brought over the calm sea air towards you. 

It was unclear how much time you spent sitting out there, looking at the waves splashing by and the clouds above you and the people around you. Only once the sun had set entirely, darkening the sky completely, and most people had left the area, you decide to finally walk up to the bartender and place an order. The man nodded and proceeded to make your drink with only a few attached flourishes to the craft, but the result was charming and tasted delicious.

‘I hope I had made it clear that that was one drink on the house,’ you heard from behind you. 

‘Don’t worry, this is my first.’ You said, turning around to see Sanji standing behind you. 

‘You might just be the slowest drinker I have ever met,’ he said as he took the spot by your side.

‘Jeez, do your manners flush away the second you’re off the clock?’ You smiled, taking a sip of your drink, most likely also proving Sanji his point as the sip you took was particularly small. 

‘For what it’s worth, madame, I was about to tell you that your bill has been taken care of.’ He leaned against the bar countertop with his forearms. ‘But I will make myself scarce now.’

‘No, wait,’ you stopped him before he could push himself back. ‘What do you mean it was– I would have happily paid. At least let me leave a tip.’ You were ready to pull out your purse when he took his turn to halt your movements. 

‘I will not be accepting any tips for my service today. And honestly, you barely had a meal to eat, let alone to pay for. It is all taken care of. I promise.’

You looked up at him apprehensively, but something about his–not necessarily laidback–but how he was so comfortable with the situation put you at ease, too. But something was gnawing at your conscience. 

‘Alright then, but I disagree with the review of your service. You most certainly need something for it in return.’ How could you repay the man who had just gotten you out of your horrific relationship? You doubted anything in the world could match your actual gratefulness. Although, maybe the smile that pulled at Sanji’s lips said something different.

‘Let me cook for you.’

‘What?’ You blinked slowly, making him smile even wider.

‘You haven’t eaten anything proper in hours. Let me make you something in the kitchen–an exclusive guest experience.’

‘That doesn’t sound much like a gratuity for you.’ You pointed out, but he did not seem to mind.

‘Indulge me,’ was all he responded with. Feeling giddy at the prospect, you glanced over at the bartender, who was definitely listening in on the conversation. Understanding what you meant with your look, he simply shrugged while wiping the glasses. 

‘Ok then.’ This entire thing felt utterly ridiculous, and you didn’t hide the amusement you felt from it as Sanji opened the door to the kitchen for you. That is when your smile lightly faltered, only to be replaced with a fallen jaw as you looked around in amazement. Like the dining area, this room had a high ceiling but wasn’t decorated as much as simply visually enhanced by all the bronze pots and pans hanging around, and the pipes leading from the ovens and stoves up to the chimneys. There were long lines of prep stations, behind which one Sanji comfortably made himself at home as he immediately got started on something.

The first few minutes, after you watched him exchange his suit jacket for a white chef’s uniform, you were occupied with the kitchen itself, but once you had gotten used to the environment, you wondered where you could make yourself equally comfortable as not a nuisance to him as he cooked. 

‘Make yourself at home, sweetheart,’ he said while chopping some ingredients at a speed that made your heart skip a beat in fear. Or did that come from the new nickname that caught you by surprise? 

‘What happened to “madame”?’ you walked closer to his station. Sanji just looked up briefly, eye covered by his hair but his smile evermore present. Your smile lasted longer as you forgot you had meant to look at what he was doing, not to stare at him. Noticing he was not planning on answering your question, you asked another. ‘So, what exactly are you making?’

‘Since I’m sure dinner did not turn out entirely as you had planned, I thought maybe dessert would be a good pick-me-up. Rose and chocolate meringue tartes, how does that sound?’

  ‘Makes me wonder what I did to deserve it,’ you laugh it off while speaking the question that had been on your mind this whole time. 

‘I like to show a lady how she’s meant to be treated,’ he said as he poured several ingredients into a glass bowl and began wicking at a pace that should have stopped him from looking so effortless long ago. ‘It’s all part of the special package deal.’

‘Right, the Sanji Special, was it?’ You looked around at the countertop next to him, which seemed free from ingredients and anything you could set on fire. You glanced his way, and he swiftly nodded your way. With that permission in mind, you pushed yourself up on the counter, swinging your legs lightly back and forth. ‘So what exactly does this special indicate?’

‘A nice meal, a little surprise, a few kind words, nothing too crazy. I would like to think that, with it, I have perfected the recipe on how to eliminate shitbag boyfriends like that prince charming you came here with.’

‘My knight in shining armour.’ You rolled your eyes, hiding how much you appreciated all his actions from that day. ‘Must have worked on quite a few girls then?’

‘Can’t say it has,’ he said as he pushed the oven open to prebake a few tartelette frames. The speed at which he worked truly was otherworldly. 

‘Can’t because of a bad success rate or because you hadn’t actually tried it before?’

He appeared next to you from beside the oven; tiny droplets of sweat were forming at his temple, but his energy was still burning like the fire under the pot where he was melting the chocolate. ‘Let's say the latter. For both our dignity’s sake.’ It did not come as a surprise to you that he was a flirt and most likely tried these tricks out on the entirety of the female clientele, and yet, for reasons unknown, you did not mind one bit, and it still did not seize to make the smallest of his advances work on you with tremendous effect. 

‘Don’t think I have much more of that left after  everything that happened out there.’ You cringed at the memory of the shouting, the mess, and just how many people had been sitting there watching you. 

‘There’s been much worse out there, believe me.’ Sanji lowered the fire under the pan lightly.

‘I hardly believe that. He threw noodles at you. That is absolutely revolting behaviour.’ And somehow, you managed not to get kicked out of the restaurant along with Chosi but even got to hang out in the kitchen after hours as a special dessert was being prepared for you… by the waiter that your boyfriend had tried to assault— no, that your ex-boyfriend tried to assault. That felt much better, but still didn’t let the whole situation make any more sense.

‘And that wouldn’t even make the top ten of shit that’s happened around this place.’

‘I… am not sure wether to be relieved or disappointed.’ For an inexplicable reason, you thought you would be more memorable to him. However, would you have wanted that, seeing the actual circumstances under which that would be? Ugh.

As if he could read your mind, Sanji added in. ‘Don’t worry, I’m not planning on forgetting you anytime soon.’

‘I bet you say that to everyone.’ You rolled your eyes, to which he just smiled. ‘But really, I am sorry for what happened—especially to your suit.’

‘I care more about the noodles, honestly, don’t like seeing food go to waste—’ he drifted off with his thoughts before coming back up to the surface with another question, ‘speaking of noodles, where’d you meet this guy anyway?’

‘It’s complicated,’ you sighed, not wanting to burden him with your story, but from the eager attitude he was conveying as he managed his ingredients, he did not hold the same sentiment over it. ‘We had been friends for ages—out dads worked together—and it seemed, to everyone, apparently, like the natural progression of events that we would end up together.’

‘Everyone… except for you?’ he assumed, looking up at you from the counter space.

‘No, I mean, at first I thought so too, but over time… well, you saw it yourself. But by the time I had realised what a mess I had gotten myself into, it felt like I was already too late.’

‘How so?’ You heard the gentleness in his question like he was treading the topic lightly, not wanting to put any pressure on it or on you to answer. 

‘Heard people talking he had been planning to propose.’ You shrugged it off. ‘But I doubt that will be happening anymore.’

‘What are you going to do now?’ The question came with that same carefulness but perhaps a bit more intrigue. You simply shrugged again.

‘Will probably have to find another ship to get back home on, as I can’t imagine he would want me on board with him.’ It was crazy you had not bothered to check but assumed that he had already taken off hours ago, leaving you behind to fend for yourself. ‘And then, if I see him again… well, not much else I can do but officially dump his ass.’

‘So I shouldn’t feel bad for what I did?’ He stopped what he was doing as he waited for an answer.

‘Absolutely not. I can’t thank you enough for doing that.’ 

The both of you shared sheepish smiles before you watched him work silently for a few more minutes. The tarte frames came out of the oven in a beautifully crisp golden tone, and he mixed the chocolate into a thick mousse while the rosy syrup lay back to cool off. While the two of you remained quiet, the kitchen was anything but that as his utensils clinked around the pans. You thought back to a few hours ago and how the silence at your table had been anything but this. You had sat in a cold dread, waiting for something to snap until it inevitably did. However, you sat back comfortably here, happily watching as Sanji focused on his work. 

It really was his element. While you thought the man had been exemplary at waiting tables, it was nothing compared to the ease at which he performed here. Each move he made seemed like second nature to him. 

‘Do all the waiters here know how to cook like this?’ you inquired, leaning in to see how he filled the pastries up, hands in a tight grip on the piping bag. 

‘The ones that are cooks do,’ he chuckled. 

‘You’re a cook?’ you blinked, ‘then what were you doing out there earlier?’ 

‘Ah, the old shitbag that runs this place likes to torture me and send me off to do the waitin’.’ He readjusted his hold on the piping bag, briefly stopping to wipe his hand on the towel tucked between his belt. 

‘Doesn’t that bother you? I’m sure you’d much rather work here.’ You certainly would. Some people could be real assholes to serve… your former date being a prime example. But Sanji simply laughed it off.

‘Nah, not when beautiful women are out there waiting to be served.’ He stopped to look up at you with a shit-eating grin, and the unseriousness dripping off of it made you blush, smile along with him and push him back by his shoulder before you would do something else much more irrational. Perhaps a bit too hard, as he lost his balance, only finding it on the counter, exactly where the piping bag had been left behind. His palm fell right over the ending, bursting out the mousse in an unfortunate mess, spilling all over him and the counter.

‘Oh no,’ you said, covering your mouth but not the giggles from it, ‘I’m so sorry.’

‘You think it’s funny, don’t you?’ He couldn’t keep his smile, but you shook your head harshly. ‘You’ll pay for this,’ he pointed his hand, covered in chocolate, at you. Several thoughts ran through your mind initially, but you managed to suppress most of them, opting for simply running your finger over the back of his hand where most of the mousse had spilt and giving it a taste. 

‘That is really good.’ you hummed at the sweetness. Sanji stood back, somewhat frozen at what you had done, but quickly thawed out with a few blinks.

‘Well, what else did you expect?’ He wiped the rest of his hand on the towel at his side, ‘and I’ll have you know it’s rude to eat the food before it’s done. Takes away from the experience.’

‘I’m sorry,’ you pouted, ‘but I promise you I am still very much enjoying this whole experience.’

‘You better.’ Sanji said, taking the baking tray and putting it back in the oven for the last few minutes. With the oven door shut, he sighed and leaned against the counter opposite you. ‘Now we wait.’

‘How long exactly?’

‘In a rush, are we?’ He glanced at you from behind his hair, and the question made you heat up in the face. Because how could you explain to this practical stranger that you were feeling the opposite of what he insinuated. That you did not want this night to end at all. That being here with him, even if you were just waiting for a damn tart to bake, you were having more fun than you had had in weeks, if not longer. So, all you did was simply shake your head again. 

‘It will be just a few minutes, and then gotta let it cool for a bit.’ He reassured you. That is when you noticed the bowl he had mixed the mousse in, mostly scraped clean while filling up the piping bag, but even the best chef can’t always scrape every last ounce out. Now, you might not have had any particular urge to leave any time soon, but you certainly were hungry, and having tasted just how delicious Sanji’s food was, you couldn’t help but lean in to get another little taste. 

‘What do you think you’re doing?’ He said, bemused, reaching to stop you from taking another swipe of mousse onto your finger. His hand gently grabbed your wrist, but he had been too late. When he caught you, you had your hand directly over your lips, looking up at him. He glared down at you in a daring manner. 

You licked the chocolate off yourself as innocently as possible without bursting into laughter. 

‘I can’t believe you’d do that.’ He took a step forward, nearly closing the gap between you. The presence of his body, so close to yours, almost touching, reverberated off of you with warmth, and suddenly, you felt the breath you had taken to be stuck in the back of your throat. ‘Did you not listen to anything I just said?’ His breath was hot against your skin, and if you didn’t know any better, you would have thought it was a direct source of the skip in your heart. 

‘Of course I did.’ You ignored the fast beating of your heart and the feeling like it might just burst out of your chest as you took him by the arm to give you some space and let you slide down the counter back onto your feet. ‘Something about experience and…’ you slid out from between him and the counter, and as you did so, swooped by the bowl of mousse with your finger one last time. ‘I forgot what else.’

‘You are unbelievable,’ Sanji reached for your hand, but you were quicker and manoeuvred around him and from his arm’s reach. Taunting him with the mousse, you walked around the work counters, and he, happily playing along, followed suit. 

Like children, you ran around the kitchen, with him not far behind you, trying to catch you until he finally did, picking you up by the waist. Unintentionally, a squeak of a shriek came out of you, followed by both your laughs. You kept on laughing until you heard something outside the door. Heavy footsteps, freezing you both in your place until they moved on by. That is when you noted the time. Hours past midnight.

‘Are we even allowed to be in here at this time?’ You whispered as if the person who had walked by would suddenly be able to hear you.

‘Of course,’ Sanji said with confidence, but his expression juxtaposed this with signs that you could only read as “absolutely fucking not.” chances were that if you were caught in the kitchen at this time of night, you would be shot on the spot by, what did Sanji call him, the old shitbag.

But before you could run away in fear of getting caught, it was Sanji’s turn to take you by surprise. As you stood in his arms, he leaned in and wrapped his mouth around your finger, sucking all the chocolate right off. You could feel his tongue move down your knuckles and back up until he released it, leaving you stunned and wide-eyed. 

‘I thought it’s rude to eat a dish before it’s done,’ you managed to sputter out. 

‘So you did listen,’ he smiled, ‘but you might want to know that a good cook always tastes their dishes in the process, and that… was delicious.’

‘Are you always this humble about your cooking?’ Your heart was basically in your throat at this moment.

‘Wasn’t talking about the food,’ his tone was deep, sultry, as he leaned closer. ‘But care to give me another taste?’

Your breath was officially hitched in your throat, unable to breathe properly, as you stared at him, body flooding with heat and need for him. As words escaped you, you nodded lightly and leaned in as he did the same, meeting your lips in the middle with a kiss.

As soon as it happened, his arms found their spot on your side as you fastened yourself on his shoulders. It was nothing like you expected it to be. For a man spending his entire nights and days in the kitchen, he felt nothing like it. You could smell the cologne, taste the cigarettes and the fresh mint he used to conceal the former. His tender but firm touch held you in your place as he pressed closer.

There was a force to it, but nothing that you didn’t feel in yourself to copy as the need for him boiled deep inside you. 

Your hand moved slowly up to his cheek, over to his hair at the nape of his neck.

One of his hands, in the meantime, had found your thigh, pulling it up over his leg as he squeezed your soft flesh, but before giving you a chance to even react to this new position and all its implications, Sanji moved.

Pulling apart, leaving your lips to be the last piece he detached from as he kept your bottom lip between his teeth lightly, he apologised, ‘Excuse me for a moment.’ because while you might have forgotten all about the world around you, he had still been keeping track of the tartelettes that were baking down in the oven. 

He pulled the tray of pastries out with a white tea towel, practically throwing it down on the counter, discarding it with a metal clang.

‘Now we wait for them to cool,’ he explained as he got back to you.

‘And what were you planning on doing in the meantime,’ you pulled him back in by the blue ascot tie. 

With his lips ghosting over yours, he half-whispered, ‘I might have a few things in mind,’ and with it, kissed you again. While the kiss itself was not much different, with that same intensity and passion running through both of you as before, now you were very much aware of what was to follow. If it wasn’t your need that spurred you on, then it was Sanji and his eagerness. Despite his chef’s uniform and the navy apron, you could feel him grow harder against you as the kiss continued. A moan escaped you as his lips travelled down to your neck, leaving sloppy kisses one by one until he reached a spot that was more sensitive than others. The simple touch sparked a fuse inside you.

As he continued playing with your sensitive skin, he led both your bodies to one of the empty tables at the side of the room, pressing you right against the edge and locking you in between it and him.

Without needing him to say a word, you understood exactly what you needed to do and climbed on top of the table, spreading your legs to make space for him right in the middle. 

Your dress might have hiked up slightly over your thighs, but it wasn’t enough for Sanji, who took it upon himself to pull it up. 

‘I hope you don’t mind me saying’,’ he smiled as he kissed the corner of your mouth and as his hand reached the top of your leg, ‘but I had been thinkin' about this ever since I saw you.’

‘Me too,’ you exhaled deeply, letting the confession sink in. Maybe Chosi was right after all. Now, with him out of the picture, you could admit that something had been there from the start, from the moment you caught a glimpse of the waiter cook. And if it wasn’t for all the shit that occurred that day, maybe you would have felt a twinge of guilt as you guided Sanji’s hand between your legs. If you had not shut that chapter behind you, perhaps you would have felt bad, but any insecurities of that disappeared as Sanji began to toy with your core. His slender fingers grazed slowly over your slit, putting enough pressure on it to make you arch your back in need of more. 

‘Already so needy,’ he smirked. ‘And I barely touched you.’

‘Touch me then,’ you said with gritted teeth.

‘Don’t need to tell me twice.’ His fingers moved up in pace and barely went any deeper, keeping you on the edge of satisfaction. ‘And what would madame like me to do?’ He threaded his movements, and you were growing impatient with the teasing.

‘Fuck me,’ ready to hear his next question, you added, ‘I don’t care how.’

His grin only grew wider at your words. Much to your dislike, he pulled his hand away to place both at your thighs, pressing his fingers into your skin and using that as leverage to make more space for himself in between.

‘As madame wishes.’ He spoke softly right below your ear as he descended onto his knees. 

The kiss he left over your panties already invoked a tremble through your entire body, and it only got worse from there, in the best sense. He pushed your underwear aside and took his time giving you all his attention and care. Kissing your core deeply until his nose pressed up against you. His tongue licked up your juices like a starving man until your eyes rolled back, and you felt weak. 

The table you were perched on was empty, so you only had Sanji to hold on to. At first, you reached for his shoulder, but it was just not high enough for you to find support. As you tried to look for it, Sanji reached for your hand and brought it up to the side of his head for you to tangle your fingers in his light locks. Before you even managed to grab onto them, simply letting your nails trace over his hair, you felt the vibrations of his moans strike you. Another deep blow to your senses pulled you further down to the edge. Closer and closer until you couldn’t take it anymore. Your grip on his hair tightened as your breath grew sporadic. 

‘Fuck, fuck,’ you moaned, voice filled with desperation for a release, and one that Sanji would be more than pleased to give you… just not quite yet. As he pulled away from you, you deflated with the feeling of a ruined climax and the urge to pull him back to finish what he had started, but all you could do was whimper in protest. 

‘Don’t worry,’ he kissed your knee softly, ‘all in good time. I promise to take good care of you,’ and with that, he rose back up to his feet, untying his apron.

‘That was good,’ your chest still moving up and down heavily as you caught your breath. ‘Really good.’

‘It pleases me to hear that,’  he said as he threw the apron aside onto the ground. ‘And believe me, I would love to go back for seconds—’

‘Does all your pillow talk stem from restaurant jargon?’ you interrupted jokingly. 

‘You laugh, and yet you’re the one begging me to fuck you.’ God, he was so cocky, with the way he stood there in front of you, his head tilted sideways, and his lip turned up in a grin that told you he knew he was right. ‘So, please, let me.’ His hand was already on his belt buckle. 

There was no time or need for either of you to undress. With your dress hiked up to your hips, he already had easy enough access, and once his belt was loose, it only took a few sharp pulls for you to release him from the material restraints. 

‘You ready?’ he asked.

‘For the love of god,’ grabbing him by the arm, you pulled him in, ‘stop talking and just take me.’ You knew he was about to respond, but before he got the chance to make another absurdly silly but nonetheless flirtatious comment, you shit him up with a kiss. Just like that, the two of you melted into one another. Sanji made himself comfortable between you and let his lips wander down to your neck again, to that one spot he found that drove you crazy. 

He kept kissing your neck as he finally slid into you. The two feelings made your body go weak, melting you into a puddle of burning nerves as he spread your walls and filled you up perfectly. 

First, he moved slowly, but with each thrust, he sped up more and more, putting more force into it until you were both shaking with ferocity, and the table underneath you scratched over the planks it stood upon. The sound of the tortured floor was the only thing covering up both your moans and that of the messy skin-to-skin contact. 

While he practically pounded into you, you reached for his hair again. There was just something about it: how messy you managed to make it with a few tugs and brushstrokes. All of it, how he acted and reacted, it was all in response to you. Just how he made you see stars with each move he made. 

‘Feels so good, fuck,’ he groaned over your shoulder as you grabbed for his, pulling him closer if possible. He had your legs pressed against his sides. He shook his head quickly, letting the hair flick out of his sight, but the attempt was poor as the lock quickly fell back over his eye despite his efforts. 

‘San–’ you moaned, ‘Sanji–’ 

‘That’s right,’ he might as well have been kissing you, so close were his lips to you, but instead, the only thing you truly felt was his hot breath on your skin as he kept going deeper and harder. ‘Gonna come for me? His voice got even deeper the longer he kept going. At the sound of it, your nails dug into his back, his striped shirt being the only thing saving him from possibly some nasty scratches, but it seemed to only spur him on more. ‘I–’ you gasped out as you felt him hit the deepest part of you.

‘Yeah?’ 

‘I’m close, fuck.’ the pit in your stomach tightened, your muscles strained as you tried to hold on to that feeling of pleasure he brought over you. The tension built up like a band being pulled tighter and tighter, ready to snap at any moment; he had you in his grip, waiting to let go of you at the exact right time. All you needed was that touch, just the right one in the right spot. 

You could feel it all. Could feel just how close he was himself as his thrusts got sloppier, and his breathing grew heavier and rougher between his words. ‘Yeah, c’mon. I know you can do it. Come all over my cock. ‘’s gonna feel so good, I promise you.’

The encouragement might not have been necessarily what did it. It was more like a concoction of things that all led to this precise moment when ecstasy overtook your body and washed over you like a hot flash. Sanji was not far behind you, riding his high as he ensured you got to yours. His movements slowed down as you felt the cum slick down your thighs. While you both caught your breath, it became quiet once more. 

It took you a bit longer to catch up on air in your lungs, and so while you closed your eyes and focused on your breathing, you heard Sanji zip his trousers back up and lightly walk across the aisle between the workstations. When you opened your eyes again, he was making his way back to you already, a handful of paper towels in his hand. 

Despite the burn you already felt in your sore muscles, you spread your legs one last time to give him access to clean you up. His soft touches to your sensitive core now were in stark contrast to what he had been doing to you moments ago, but the cold of the damp towel brought a nice sense of comfort. 

‘You think you can stand up for me?’ he asked gently, and the little words in that tone were enough to make your heart flutter. 

‘Yeah, I think so.’ You said, but that was quickly proven wrong when your knees buckled almost immediately when your feet touched the ground. It was only because of the way that Sanji held your arm that you had not completely toppled over. 

‘Woah, alright.’ He smiled, never letting go of you, ‘How about we just sit for now.’ Slowly, he guided you to sit on the ground, back against a cabinet. ‘Water?’ 

You nodded in agreement. The question had made you realise just how parched you were.

‘Still, sparkling, mineral?’

‘Surprise me.’ You said through a tired smile at the reference to how he waited on you earlier, but moments later, you reminded yourself of your preference, ‘just not sparkling! It just tastes foul.’ 

‘Anything but sparkling water, coming right up.’ He moved around the room to pour you some surprise water, and while he did so, you pressed your face into your hands, laughing at the absurdity of it all. Less than 12 hours ago, you had been walking up the deck, arm in arm, with your good-for-nothing boyfriend, soon-to-be fiance. Now you sat on the ground of a restaurant kitchen, with no idea where said–now ex–-boyfriend was in the world, coming down from one of the best orgasms you had ever received… all by the hand of a stranger. A handsome stranger at that. One that you could imagine seeing much more of in the future, but it was all just too silly. 

And you were tired. And hungry. 

‘Voila,’ Sanji appeared in front of you with impeccable timing, a large ice-cold looking glass in one hand, filled with ice cubes and cucumber, and two plates in the other hand. The rose and chocolate meringue tartes look particularly inviting. ‘Thought you might finally want to try one,’ he said as he handed you a plate and fork.

‘I swear, you’re a godsend.’ No matter in how much need you were of a drink, the sight of the dessert made your mouth water. 

‘Ah, just a little something sweet for—’

‘If you’re going to say what I think you’re going to say, I will shove this tarte in your face.’ One could only endure so much of this sappy flirting, even if you found it very endearing. Sanji shut his mouth and sat beside you, poking his fork into his portion.

The two of you ate quickly but still took enough time to appreciate the flavours that oozed out of the pastry and its filling. The moan you made as it all reached your tastebuds might have been more pornographic than any sound you made while he had been deep inside you. 

‘Mmm, this is delicious,’ you said through another bite. The praise brought a huge smile to the cook’s lips. ‘Seriously, thank you. For everything.’

‘It’s been my pleasure,’ he spoke in a way that almost made you think he was getting shy on you. That felt unlikely, but you let him process it all for a moment as you kept eating. 

Only once you had eaten everything off your plate did you ask your next question of the evening. ‘How did you know I would like this?’

‘It’s a chef’s best trait,’ he pulled the fork out of his mouth with a pop, ‘to be able to read their customers well. To be able to tell what they like or dislike; to know them better than they know themselves.’

‘But how?’ With intrigue, you moved closer to him. He had been leaning against the same cupboard as you, one of his knees raised up and an arm hanging casually over it. His hair was still messy, falling over his eye. ‘How could you tell I would enjoy this specific dish?’ 

The one unobstructed eye fell over you, looking up and down over your body as his mischievous smile reappeared. ‘It felt fitting.’

‘How so?’ You blinked, confused as to what he meant.

‘Sweet, decadent and hot; what’s there not to like? I mean—’ he leaned in over his arm to kiss you, feather-light. Then, he hummed as he pulled back. ‘It is an absolutely divine combination.’

Your cheeks burned up for what felt like the millionth time that evening, and you could not dare keep looking at him as he stared down at you with that innate hunger. That kind that could only be filled with one thing, and it just so happened to have wholly exhausted you. 

‘Is this still all part of that special of yours?’

To this, Sanji shrugged, ‘Depends.’

‘On what?’

‘On how long you want to keep me around.’ He scraped some leftover mousse from his plate, licking it off his fork.

‘I think for a while,’ you admitted. Yeah, you definitely hadn’t had enough of him yet. 

‘Well, then there’s so much more I can do for you, madame.’

the end

thank you so much for reading! If you enjoyed this story, please consider reblogging and commenting-either through the comments, in a reblog or through my inbox <3 to hear your thoughts on my writing means the world to me and really is a huge help in motivation to keep going.

you can find my other writing here

[blue-jisungs]

360

[ song inspo ! ] 360 by park jihoon

[ author's note ! ] 3 6 oh zero take a shot for meeeee

[ summary ! ] when you and your husband get called as a backup, youd never guess how that 'date' would end ...

[ warnings ! ] suggestive + allusions to sex sigh SOURY!!! since its agent au theres violence, guns and shooting, blood, mention of drugs n gangsters, kidnapping n stuff, reader is nauseous, joke or two about dying (? i promise it makes sense), swearing, sliiightly angsty i guess :3

[ word count ! ] +- 4k

seungcheol watched you carefully as you wandered around the kitchen. you grabbed two cups and turned around to join him on the couch. 

just by his smug look in his eye you could tell he was thinking about something. 

you put down the steaming cups on the coffee table and crossed your arms, standing in front of it. 

“what?” you asked, a playful smile forming on your husband’s face. 

“nothing. just admiring my wife” he hummed and as if his legs weren’t spread enough, he pushed them a little wider. he patted his thigh with a boyish grin. 

“c’mere. i missed you” he whined, brows furrowing in a pleasing expression. 

“seungcheol, you remember what happened last time. i will not explain to the doctor once again how you strained your leg” you grunted, recalling the last time when you… well, safe to say, in a rush of emotions forgot about cheol’s injury. then you had to rush to the hospital, both of you almost half naked and your state leaving very little to the imagination. the doctor nagged seungcheol to slow down with physical activities and you had to shush your husband before he blurted out something that would embarrass you even more. 

“ah, i’m better now. just come here” he giggled and pulled you onto his lap. you shifted and rested your knees on both sides, not putting all of your weight on him. “it’s just us. we should enjoy the free time we got” 

“mhm. i feel like you’re getting bored rotting inside the house” you hummed, arms wrapping around his neck. seungcheol looked at you with hearts in his eyes, shaking his head. 

“no, not at all. i love having you all to myself” he replied and before you realized, he pulled you down to rest on his lap. you just rolled your eyes playfully, shaking your head in disbelief. 

due to his injury, he was put aside from his duties. and you, being his wife, had to take care of him. 

both you and seungcheol were agents. your job required a lot of running and just being physical. so naturally he wasn’t able to execute it. 

time passed and he started getting better but his doctor advised to rest for another month. 

that way he also developed many new hobbies. crotcheting, making candles, pottery, baking… you could swear he tried everything. 

“i could get used to it, you know” he sighed, nuzzling his head in the crook of your neck. his soft locks tickled your skin as you played with the hair at the back of his neck “i love our job, i really do. but spending time together–“ 

your right one interrupted the peaceful moment, you and cheol pulling away at the same time. he looked at you shocked and you leaned back to grab the phone. his hands remained on your hips the whole time. 

“yeah?” you answered, putting the phone on speaker. 

“hi, doves. hopefully im not interrupting?” jeonghan asked in a slightly teasing voice. 

“yeah, actually. we were making passionate love” seungcheol grunted and you just smacked his arm, giggling. 

“don’t listen to this man child. what’s up?” you scoffed and just flicked his nose. 

“i know you can’t do shit but we’re running low on people. jun and hao got sent to china and we’re just helpless. we need you, y/n. it’s a serious matter” jeonghan’s voice was stern, a little pleading. 

“got it. i’ll be at the base in thirty” you said and were about to get off your husband’s lap when he took your phone 

“im going too” 

“what?!” you and jeonghan yelped at the same time. you smacked his shoulder yet again. 

“you heard me. i’m the captain, after all. we’ll be there in fifteen” seungcheol ordered and hang up. 

you saw his eyes darken a bit – you knew that. adrenaline rushed through his veins, he was itching to be back. 

“you’re insufferable” you grunted and went to change into your work clothes. 

“for fuck’s sake… and what are you even doing here?” jihoon crossed his arms, eyeing seungcheol up and down. 

“told him not to go” you grunted and didn’t even bother to look at your husband. you had to weapon up real quick “his doctor too” 

“i can run, chill out. it’s not like start breakdancing. my injury is 99% healed” cheol grunted, the atmosphere in the room already tense. 

“i’d rather have kyungmin take your spot” chan snickered, trying to ease the tension. kyungmin was his nephew who just started his training to be a special agent one day, just like him… and you. 

“hey, leave kyungmin alone. he’s my baby” you grinned. you really loved that kid, he was just like a happy virus. the sole sight of his cute face made you want to squish his cheeks and bite– 

“okay, let’s just go. y/n, you’ll lead the group. seungcheol, you’ll take her side, i’ll explain the details on the way” jeonghan massaged his temples and left the room. 

“someone’s pissed” cheol teased. jeonghan took over for the time being of seungcheol’s absence and it seemed like he already wanted to have his leader back. 

as a group of special agents, your tasks and duties varied. sometimes it would be protecting someone, sometimes taking down criminals… a new day, a new surprise. 

“okay, we got called as backup. there are hostages and they are the main priority, alright? one of them is the health minister’s daughter. the location is an abandoned factory, the kidnappers just wanted money. however, we got informed that they are the local drug gang we’ve been trying to locate ever since you and cheol got time off” jeonghan explained once in the car, eyeing you in the mirror “they are really reckless and unpredictable. there was no connection between the daughter and them and despite their illegal actions, they still decided to show themselves and kidnap her. because of that the minister sent a government group too, they’ll help us too” 

“don’t worry, i’ll protect you” seungcheol said, the buzz of adrenaline in his veins making it hard to stay still. as if himself alone could replace the whole additional group. but… 

he missed this. he missed the thrill of danger, the action, the tension. he just loved this job way too much and no amount of crocheted socks or baked cinnamon rolls could replace this. 

“take a shot for me, hm?” you hummed, cupping his jaw. seungcheol’s face scrunched in a soft smile. 

this saying was what got you closer. when you were new in the crew, you and cheol didn’t really… enjoy each other. so you two would often bicker and joke about letting the other down (which was cruel if you thought about it but on the other hand… you had no feelings towards him whatsoever. how the turn tables). after your first successful mission, you said it too when you were celebrating. so seungcheol drank a shot, holding eye contact with you. something deep about his gaze turned the phrase more intimate, turning into a promise of protecting the other with your own life. 

“you’re gonna manifest it one day and i’m gonna kill myself if one of you dies” dokyeom suddenly spoke up and you just snorted, turning your head towards him. 

“you’re being dramatic” you snickered, resting your head on seungcheol’s arm. 

“no, no. he’s right. we missed you like crazy, you’re kinda like a parental figure to me” chan stuck his head out from his seat behind you, sending you a toothy grin. 

“don’t get too used to this. this drama queen still needs to rest” you pointed at seungcheol “but, jeonghan, tell us more about the drug gang. leaders, weak points maybe…?” 

seungcheol and you left the car, not going too far. jeonghan handed you both a walkie talkie and then moved a bit away to test it. 

“coups, do you copy?” jeonghan checked. you haven’t hear your husband’s code name in a while. 

suddenly, it all hit you. you’re back in the field, gun and knives attached to your hip. your bulletproof jacket on your chest, heavy boots hugging your feet. there’s life on the scale, and you’re responsible for saving those hostages. 

a wave of nausea washed over you, bending in half. 

“fuck, y/n, are you okay?” seungcheol asked; his voice shook a bit, taken aback by your sudden reaction.

“i got nervous all of a sudden, i might throw up” you groaned, clutching your stomach. 

“hey, it’s okay” he kneeled down next to you, eyeing your pale face. rubbing your back in a reassuring motion, he didn’t notice others sending you worried looks.

“i’m fine” you muttered and took a few deep breaths, the sick feeling fading away. 

your husband didn’t take his eyes off you, nodding reassuringly. 

“do you want some water?” he asked, big bambi eyes staring at you. 

“no, thanks. i just… the realisation hit me, i wasn’t prepared mentally to come back so suddenly. but i’m fine, don’t worry” you smiled softly and patted his arm “i promise”

“you better because you come in like, in ten. you have everything? remember: hostages are the priority” jeonghan’s smooth voice suddenly boomed from behind you and you just nodded. a loud churn turned in your stomach, your breakfast suddenly wanting to escape. 

but you swallowed hardly and rushed to your spot. seungcheol followed you and before you had to head in, he pressed a quick kiss on your lips.

the old magazine was quite a messy location but luckily you were able to pass through it unnoticed if you tried enough. 

on jeonghan’s signal you went in, leading the group. dividing into small groups to locate the aim, you placed your feet surely on the ground. 

wonwoo and jun who were with you were as quiet as mice. 

“got anything?” vernon’s voice rang in your in-ear. you replied quickly, deciding to check the rest of the corridor you got and to return to one of the squares. 

it was overgrown by various plants, clearly a sign of abandonment of this place. it had a couple of benches, most of them ready to fall apart upon a small movement. it was probably an area where the workers could take a break, back in the day when the factory was working. 

it had four exits, by two of which your group came in. 

“what now?” chan asked jeonghan through the walkie-talkie and just when there was a buzz of an incoming answer, you heard seungcheol’s voice. 

“a movement at twelve, i saw through one of the windows. we’ll be there in a moment” 

in a flash you aimed your gun at the door in front of you, waiting for them to open. 

seungcheol could see the square thanks to most of the walls not surviving the test of time and simply falling apart. and also most of the windows were broken due to some hooligan’s actions.

“get ready, don’t shoot yet” you ordered, shifting the weight of your body on your right leg in a defensive position. 

and surely, the metal doors soon clinged open. 

your jaw tensed when you saw one of the gangsters, holding a hostage. and a gun to their head. it was a boy, he looked as if he could be kyungmin’s age. it made your brows furrow. 

“took you long enough. we were starting to get bored” the man grunted. they knew you were coming, they definitely had a plan. you swallowed, unsure what to say. however, the man was faster. 

“who’s the leader of this pathetic little group?” he asked. 

you proudly stepped out, not wasting a second. the aggressive man just pushed his gun closer to the hostage’s head. 

then, seuncheol entered the room, aiming at the man as well.

“drop the weapon and follow me” he snarled “unless you want my colleague to shoot the minister’s daughter” 

“y/n…” jeonghan warned you, not even sure why – he knew you wouldn’t listen. 

you slowly kneeled down and tossed your gun on the grass, raising back up with your hands in a defensive posture.

“i’m going with her” cheol’s voice boomed behind you, shortly followed by the sound of a dropping gun. 

no one noticed but the gang member realized the bligning golden rings on your fingers. a teasing smile bloomed on his face as he nodded.

“welcome” he just mumbled.

“let me see her” you ordered and the man just turned around, silently telling you to follow him. 

“don’t do anything stupid, you’re unharmed! both of you!” jeonghan hissed through the in-ear. 

seungcheol’s heart sped up and he looked at your group through his shoulder for the last time. 

“the other group has to follow them, now! use the right wing, don’t get caught. use the second exit, the one i showed you on the map. go!” jeonghan ordered.

“what’s your plan? you’re surrounded” you blurted out. the man just snickered. 

“you’re a dumb bitch if you think i’ll tell you that” 

“motherfucker” you heard cheol’s hiss and just sent him a nagging look. the man either didn’t care nor didn’t hear.

soon enough after entering and passing through some rooms and corridors, the guy lead you to a room on the second floor. 

the hostages were tied there, sunlight shining through a half broken window on their frightened faces. 

“now that was dumb to follow us all alone. we’ve got two more to our collection. well, you definitely won’t be as worth as her” the man spat on the floor next to a blonde girl, nudging her with his foot. 

“tell me how much you want. we can solve this without hurting anyone” you pleaded, eyeing the guards in the room. then, you casted an eye over the hostages. huh yunjin, the daughter of the minister. jeonghan showed you her pictures. you also saw two young boys, a man who you saw before and a woman… with her baby. 

a baby. 

your jaw clenched. your husband noticed that and only sent you a calming look.

“a woman of business. now we’re talking” the gangster huffed and followed your line of sight. he smirked upon noticing you’re looking at the small baby. 

“i see them! second floor, west side. the hostages are on the middle, there’s more or less five people. i can’t see the whole room” you heard jihoon’s voice in your in-ear - he took the sniping spot alongside dokyeom and seungkwan.

“how much do you want?” you asked, finally looking up. the man suddenly started laughing, grabbing his walkie-talkie. 

“i’ll show you something, listen closely” he smiled disgustingly and started talking to the walkie-talkie “rooftops, how we’re feeling? did you take down those ants already?” 

“on it, sir” the buzz sent shivers down your spine. they had snipers too? 

wait, rooftops?

“oh shit–!” jihoon’s yelp rang in your ear. 

“jihoon-ah!” jeonghan’s voice was full of fear and you felt your heart speeding up when your friend didn’t reply. 

you stared at the aggressors, your chest rising up and down. 

the silence was so loud, your racing heart tearing apart. should you save the hostages and remain calm or should you– 

“fucking asshole missed” 

a shaky sigh left your lips and you glared at the leader of the gang. 

“what do you want?” you hissed, jaw clenched. your hand was itching to reach for your hidden weapon. 

“see, misses… life is not all about love, money, fame. although it is fun that way” the man tsked, circling around the hostages. they were looking at you pleadingly. 

you shifted your fingers, calculating how much time you have. if the snipers could take the rest of the guards down before you reach out for your hidden knife. 

you caught seungcheol’s stern gaze, he could read you like an open book.

“don’t” he mouthed. you just cursed mentally and raised your eyes to the sky. 

“you know, we’re doing it because, well… money. but also, i got a little bored” the man spoke up, standing still and observing you two. 

jeonghan was right, this guy is a psycho. bored? he was bored and decided to give those poor kids trauma. 

“but thanks to you my game just got a whole lotta entertaining!” he opened his arms widely with a grin. you wanted to rip it off his face.

“hang on in there, we’re almost there!” jeonghan said. he could hear everything that was going on, including your rapid breaths. 

“because if i’m not mistaken… you’re married, hm? lovebirds… quite a romantic date idea” he chuckled slyly, fox-alike. 

the sound of a gun reloading made you take a step closer to seungcheol. 

fuck. 

you usually take off your wedding rings. exactly for the risk of such a situation. and also because it was more comfortable to hold a weapon with a free hand.

“so, mr. husband. choose. her…” the gang leader pointed his gun at yunjin, her eyes glossy. then, he painfully slowly aimed his weapon at you. right between your eyes “... or her” 

“fuck. where are you?” jeonghan asked the group. 

you stopped breathing, ringing in your ears getting hard to bare. 

“her, pick her” the daughter of the minister whined, almost begged. tears pooled in your eyes - this poor girl wanted to save you.

“yunjin, listen to me. you’ll live. don’t panic” you reassured her, shaking your head. 

seungcheol stayed silent, swallowing hard. in theory, the choice was easy: you; he’d always choose you. 

but he didn’t want anyone to die. especially this young girl that still had her whole life in front of her. he knew the trouble everyone could get in if anything happened to her. both you, him and his whole team. 

“come on” the gang member teased. 

“shoot me” 

you whipped your head at seungcheol, mouth falling agape. he was serious.

“cheol, what the fuck are you even talking about!” you yelled, trying to grab his hand but the loud tsk made you halt. 

“a man of honor…” the guy started.

“boss, i see a group of people approaching the room” his walkie-talkie speaking made you freeze. you’re doomed. 

“see, normally i’d make you suffer a bit more. maybe even give you time to say your last goodbye. but since your team is coming, i have no options left” the guy grinned and moved his gun at seungcheol, lowering his hand a bit.

then it all happened in a blink of an eye, your heart fuelling your limbs. 

when seungcheol didn’t feel any pain but he heard the gunshot, he thought it was the adrenaline blocking his sensors. only when your body surged forwards to cover him, it was too late for him to react. 

along with your painful yelp, the door swung open and your team came to rescue you and the hostages. 

with the rest of your strength you reached for your hidden knife and threw it at one of the guards who was getting ready to shoot. 

“hey, hey. y/n… fuck, are you stupid?” cheol kneeled down, panic in his ebony irises. he held your body, sticky blood covering his palms. he was freaking out, only being able to observe how your eyes are starting to lose their light.

“take a shot for me, remember?” you smiled softly, bringing your hand to his cheek. 

“no, no, no. that’s why he was supposed to shoot me! we… you, i… you can’t–” he breathed out, tears filling his eyes. 

he didn’t realize the fight that was going on, luckily jihoon and the rest of the snipers were taking care of your backs. the voices around him blurred out; fell silent on his ears as he was only focused on you. 

your eyelids drooping, your limbs getting lighter. he held your wrist that was cupping his cheek, the other hand looking for the wound to stop the bleeding at least for a moment.

“i love you, cheol”

the light in the room was unbearable. but so was the silence. the horrible, bone shattering silence. 

“how is she?” jeonghan asked quietly, stepping into the room with a doctor, mingyu. 

seungcheol just swallowed, shrugging his shoulders. your face was pale, your arm bandaged. he already wiped the dried blood off your cheek. most importantly, you were breathing. 

“good question” seungcheol murmured, squeezing your hand. 

mingyu looked at his papers and clicked his pen, humming. 

“i’m fine, actually” 

jeonghan’s soft gasp was followed by your husband’s yelp. he lurched forward to hug you, careful not to cause any pain to your arm. 

you giggled into his shoulder, wrapping your free hand around his back. 

“you gave us a heart attack” jeonghan snickered and the doctor just smiled. seungcheol leaned away a bit and you brushed off the hair from his forehead. visible relief was painted all over his face. 

“sorry. couldn’t let my hubby die before me” you snickered and jeonghan just tsked in disapproval “also, how…”

“everyone is alive, sound and safe. well, except some of the gang members. we captured the leader, who did manage to escape but… um, your husband put the pedal to the metal, let’s just say that” he snickered.

“good. very good. i’m glad they are all safe” you smiled and interlocked your fingers with cheol’s.

“if i may interrupt…” the doctor cleared his throat and you all nodded, allowing him to read his notes “everything is fine. you got shot in the arm, luckily above the bone. you did lose a lot of blood but everything, as i said, is fine. the baby too”

“that’s good” you grinned and halted, your smile fading. you blinked twice, furrowing your brows. seungcheol didn’t seem to understand “wait, what baby?”

now it was mingyu’s turn to frown. jeonghan’s eyes were as wide as plates.

“you’re pregnant, mrs choi. i thought you knew?” he frowned, observing the pure shock on your faces.

“i... we… baby?” seungcheol choked out, pointing at himself and then you. 

“well that’s how babies are made, right?” the doctor snickered.

“oh my god, you weren’t joking with the passionate love making” jeonghan groaned dramatically and you just fellt your face go red. 

“no! i mean… wait, how… how… which week…?” you asked, looking at your husband. he was still clearly processing it.

“ninth week. it’s normal that you couldn't see the belly” the doctor explained and just smiled softly “well, i’ll leave you alone now. if you have more questions or want to do extra check up, or usg for the baby, just let us know. and congratulations, i suppose” 

he sent you a toothy smile and left. 

you could see cogs turning in jeonghan’s head.

“so that would mean… three months, more or less… oh, ew, someone was celebrating their birthday!” he fake gagged and your eyes widened.

“you’re gross,  get out!” you laughed and he just snickered.

“i will. let me spread the news tho” he smiled and left. 

seungcheol kept staring at you, lips parted.

“cheol?” you asked softly, sitting up. his fingers traced the cold metal of your wedding ring in an absentminded motion.

“y/n… we’re going to be parents” he whispered, tears pricking his eyes. 

he let them flow, smile breaking on his lips. 

“we are” you agreed happily. sure, life was messy with your job - and maybe it was a sign to change your profession to something less life risking. but during cheol’s injury you got a taste of the time alone. 

it was nice. peaceful, embodiment of love. 

and now, there’s gonna be an additional member of your small family. maybe it won’t be as peaceful as it was with just the two of you. but it’ll definitely be worth it. 

seungcheol leaned in and cupped your face, surprising you with a passionate lips. wet tears stained your cheeks and you weren’t sure anymore if they were yours or his. one thing was certain, though: they were tears of joy. 

your life will turn 360 degrees now but with your husband by your side, you know it’ll be perfect. 

svt masterlist | event masterlist

taglist. @mirxzii ,, @primoppang ,, @l3visbby ,, @nicholasluvbot ,, @planetkiimchi ,,

@weird-bookworm ,, @slytherinshua ,, @kazmura ,, @laylasbunbunny ,, @mon2sunjinsuver ,,

@eternalgyu ,, @rubywonu ,, @haecien ,, @mine-gyu ,, @nonononranghaee

[nyzfiles]

sleepless nights - kmj

synopsis - you and minjeong have been dating for two years but lately you can't see eye to eye, resulting in a fight.

warnings - smut (minors and men dni !), angst, cheating (reader suspects minjeong of it !minjeong is not doing it!)

tags - dom!minjeong x sub!fem reader, shower sex, nipple stimulation, cunnilingus (reader receiving), spanking, fingering (both receiving), minjeong and reader are desperate for each other

word count - 1.4k

thunder shakes your little apartment you share with minjeong, the clock on your nightstand reading 1:28 am. you sigh, turning around in bed and trying to force yourself to sleep. every night feels the same with minjeong staying out until early hours of the morning after dance practice.

the sound of the front door opening shakes you out of your thoughts and you sit up, pulling your robe on before leaving the bedroom. you watch as minjeong stands in the front hallway, her dyed blonde hair sticking out in the darkness of the hallway.

"finally home?" you question, irritation evident in your voice. she jumps a little at the sound of your voice, releasing a breath when she notices its just you. she runs a hand through her damp hair, turning to face you. "what now?" she sighs, sounding exhausted.

you roll your eyes, trying to stay calm so a big argument doesn't start. "you can't seriously be asking me that, minjeong." you mutter in disbelief, crossing your arms over your chest. "you have been on my ass for the past month." she states, her voice raising a bit.

"i wouldn't have to be on your ass if you actually came home at a reasonable time instead of 1:30 in the morning!" you yell, losing your temper. she glares at you, finally taking off her coat and shoes. "maybe i'd come home at a reasonable time if you weren't always on my ass." she counters, getting defensive.

"this started way before i was getting so upset with you. something happened that you don't want to tell me." you accuse, starting to sound a little more panicked than upset. "what? y/n nothing happened." she sighs, brushing you off. "then why haven't you been coming home? why don't you want to be around me?" you question, voice breaking a little.

she looks at you, a shocked expression on her face. "y/n...i had no idea you were feeling this way." she shakes her head, walking towards you. you back up a little, wiping away a stray tear off your cheek. "why else would you have been avoiding me?" you sniffle, trying not to look at her. she takes your hands in her's trying to get you to look at her.

"baby, i've been having a hard time at work and instead of going to you and burdening you with my problems i decided to stay out until you'd be asleep. i'm so sorry, i realize now how badly i messed up." she tells you, sincerity in her voice. you bottom lip quivers as you try to hold back tears from her confession. "you should've just talked to me. i've been worried sick every night thinking you're cheating on me or just losing interest in me." you whimper, the stress and emotions of the past month catching up with you.

she shakes her head, pulling you into her arms and holding you tight. "i promise i would never cheat on you, angel. i love you with my whole heart." she confesses, tilting your chin up and placing a soft and tender kiss on your lips. you melt into her touch, fingers threading through her hair as her hands grip your waist.

she moves her hands down to your ass, squeezing softly and eliciting a soft moan from you. she lifts you up, hands around your thighs as your legs wrap around her waist. your tongues dance together, her grip on you steady as she carries you into the bathroom. she places you on the bathroom counter, hands resting on your bare thighs.

"i love you." she whispers against your lips, cupping your tit over your thin tank top. your breathing shallows and you lean in to her touch, pleasure making your head feel fuzzy. "i love you too..." you mutter, skin tingling as she places her hand under your tank top. she smiles, rubbing her thumb over your sensitive nipple while you let out little noises.

she pulls the tank top over your head, dipping her head down to swirl her tongue over your nipple before pulling back and blowing on it. you whine, thighs squeezing together as you feel the pleasure all the way down to your toes. she licks the valley between your breasts, tongue slowly tracing its way towards your other nipple.

she wraps her lips around your nipple, sucking and swirling her tongue around you. you tilt your head back, letting out breathy moans and you push your chest closer to her. she cups your other tit, squeezing it before taking your nipple between her fingers and pinching. you whine out her name, stomach burning with desire for her. "please...i need you..." you beg, sounding desperate.

she pulls away, planting a soft kiss on your lips before going to the shower and turning it on. her hands go to her pants, pulling them down with her panties and then taking her shirt and bra off. you watch her with eagerness, body tingling with desire. she walks back over to you, toying with the waistline of your panties before pulling them down your legs. "ready, angel?" she smiles, peppering kisses on your neck.

you nod, hopping off the counter and following her into the shower. she closes the sliding the glass door, pressing you up against it before attaching her lips to yours. her hands grope and massage your tits, making your cunt clench. you grip the bar on the glass door as she kisses down your body, teeth sinking into the flesh of your thighs.

"turn around." she instructs, kneeling before you in the tub. your heart pounds, giving her a small nod before turning around and pressing your front to the glass. the slight coldness of the glass makes your nipples tighten even more and your desire grow. she spreads your legs apart, gripping your ass before leaning in and licking a long strip from your clit to your hole.

you let out a loud moan, backing up against her face a little as her tongue laps at your soaking hole. her hands knead your ass as she flicks her tongue over your clit and slips it into your tight cunt. whiny moans leave your mouth, cheek pressed against the glass. "feels so good..." you whimper, words sounding a bit jumbled as her tongue fucks you dumb.

she hums against your cunt, lips wrapping around your clit and sucking. "you taste so good, baby..." she praises, switching between licking and sucking on your clit. you wiggle against her tongue, hardly able to control your moans as they increase in noise and pitch. she lands a smack across your ass, a yelp of pleasure leaving you as you clench around nothing.

she chuckles, sucking on your clit and releasing it with a pop, repeating the motion a few times. you're on the verge of panting when your stomach tightens and your vision goes hazy. white blinds your vision, while the band in your stomach snap, leaving your legs shaking and voice crying out for her as you cum all over her tongue.

she licks you clean, savoring every last drop before kissing her way up your body and kissing your lips sloppily. you moan against her lips, turning around in her grasp and pulling her closer to you. "fuck, i missed having you eat my pussy." you laugh, nibbling on her bottom lip.

she nudges your legs apart, hand going in between your thighs. you watch her intently, gripping her wrist as two of her fingers rub your clit in slow circles. you whine softly, taking your own fingers and inserting two of them in her tight cunt. she groans, bucking her hips against you before easing her fingers into you.

your desperate moans fill the bathroom, her fingers thrusting deep inside you as her thumb rubs your clit. you curl your fingers in a come hither motion, making her cry out for you as her cunt clenches around your fingers. you bury your face in her neck, riding her fingers as your release builds.

"fuck, you're gonna make me cum!" she squeals, frantically chasing her release as she grinds against your fingers. "i'm coming too..." you nod eagerly, cunt and stomach clenching as you release all over her fingers. she cries out your name, gripping your shoulder tightly as her release coats your fingers.

you slowly pull your fingers out, bringing them to your lips and licking them clean. she whimpers while she watches you, wrapping her arms around you and pulling you close. "i love you so much." she mutters as the hot water cascades down your bodies. "i love you too." you respond, holding her tightly.

[livingund3ad]

[for the last time || в последний раз]

chapter warnings: suspicions of a missing person, implied parental neglect and emotional unavailability

01. | 02. | 03. | 04. | » you are here | ... |

————

From the eyes of [ Eagle ]

Roughly 20 hours before the events of 01.

The morning had settled into its familiar rhythm. The Wayne Manor breathed its ancient, stately calm, the quiet only broken by the subtle creak of floorboards shifting under the weight of age and the sprinkle of warm summer rain outside the green perimeters of the manor.   

Alfred Pennyworth moved through the halls with his usual efficiency, though his mind was burdened by an unshakable worry. His phone rested in his waistcoat pocket, the device glinting whenever he withdrew it to check for messages.   

Still nothing.  

Miss ****’s last message had come yesterday afternoon. 2:12 PM. Something cheerful about an art exhibit she was attending with a friend on Paris Island. 

[****]: Heya, A! I'm so sorry for skipping lunch. I didn't notice you pass by, I got immersed a bit too much when I was brainstorming for my next painting. 

[****]: Anyhow! Just telling you before I forget that I'll be with friends at Paris Island later, we're going to see the new Art Exhibit there. Promise to be home by 11. I'll also just grab my lunch on the way there. :)

|Sent at 2:12 PM, July 24, xxxx.

[A🎀]: Understood, Miss ****. I’m relieved to know you’re well, though I do wish you’d heard me knock. Please do not forget to eat something proper, and take care on your way to the exhibit. I shall ensure supper is warm should you return before 11. Enjoy the art, and try not to lose track of time entirely.

|Sent at 2:19 PM, July 24 xxxx.

There was a note of excitement nestled in her words, a tone Alfred had come to appreciate in her otherwise subdued demeanor.

She was polite, always. Courteous—sometimes frustratingly so. But she had a mindfulness that belied her age. Messages answered in minutes, never left to linger. A habit born of both gratitude and an oddly endearing sense of responsibility. Alfred disapproved of her tendency to skip meals, an unhealthy habit she had thankfully improved upon. He trusted her when she said she’d make up for the missed lunch.

It was why her silence now unsettled him so deeply. Hours had stretched into the better part of a day, and the absence of her customary check-ins gnawed at his composure. Not even a single photograph of the meal she said she will purchase—she always sent one to ease his worry. The others had far more destructive habits, after all.

Alfred had brought this up to Bruce last night. He had mentioned it between reports of patrol routes and routine maintenance updates, his voice firm and measured as always.   

“Sir, I’ve reason to believe Miss **** may be… unaccounted for. She mentioned attending an exhibit earlier in the afternoon, but I’ve heard nothing from her since. I believe this is most unlike her.”  

Bruce had only nodded, gaze fixed on some sprawling conspiracy diagram splayed across the Batcomputer’s screens. Lines of red twine criss crossed over maps, files, and case notes. His mind submerged in the depths of his current investigation.   

“I’ll look into it,” Bruce had replied, though the words were mechanical, hollow. His mind hadn’t processed the concern. Anything ****-related had become a blind spot for him—willfully ignored under the guise of keeping her safe from Gotham’s cruelties. From their cruelties.  

His master reasoned he didn’t want her near the darkness he had cloaked himself in. But what Bruce often failed to realize was that **** was still part of the manor, part of this family. She couldn’t be protected from everything simply by ignoring her.   

And now, they suspect that she is gone. Or worse, something had happened to her, and they had all somehow missed it.   

Alfred’s grip tightened around the tray of still warm, untouched food he was holding. His limbs moved automatically, setting down the tray by the countertop beside the sinks as soon as he returned to the kitchen. His feet dragging him elsewhere once again in search of the gentlemen residing in this very manor.

Yet his mind was elsewhere.   

He could not shake the memory of Bruce’s distracted nod. He should have pressed harder, made the urgency clear. It was a rare mistake, one he would not make twice.  

Alfred swept from the kitchen, eyes sharp as they scanned the hallways. First Master Damian. Then Master Richard. Finally Master Jason, if he were to fetch his repaired belongings as a result of a rather intense night out, as he notified. Perhaps he should prepare to send him a text.

He found them quicker than expected. Damian and Dick were already in the sitting room, engaged in some minor squabble about Damian’s training regimen. Dick wore his usual disarming grin, but the tension in his shoulders suggested the boy had been especially stubborn today.  

“Ah, Alfred! Had’th the reclusive Lady **** Grey broken her fast by thy chambers?” Dick greeted, waving him over with a rather amusing imitation of a British accent. But that was irrelevant to the point.

Damian only inclined his head, eyes narrowing at Alfred’s expression. He’d always been too perceptive, that one.   

“Gentlemen,” Alfred began, his voice calm but urgent. “I require your attention.”  

Both of them turned to him, the argument forgotten.  

“Miss **** has not been seen since yesterday afternoon. I attempted to deliver breakfast to her room earlier, but there was no response. Master Timothy is already investigating, but I would suggest your assistance be lent as well.”   

Dick’s brow furrowed, his smile vanishing. “Wait wha—she’s missing?”  

“We...believe so. Master Timothy retrieved her laptop, and he has taken the initiative to check for any indication of her whereabouts. Master Bruce has yet to be informed of the situation, as he is currently resting from last night’s patrol. I would prefer not to wake him unless absolutely necessary.”  

Damian scoffed, crossing his arms. “Resting? Of course. Anything to avoid dealing with his own family.”

“Damian,” Dick warned, but there was an edge to his voice.  

“I'm merely stating the truth.” Damian’s scowl deepened, though there was something like unease flickering in his gaze. “Then perhaps she could have simply wandered off. She does that.”

The elder chose to ignore Damian's input, though Alfred noticed his jaw tightening slightly. There was no point in arguing when concern was gnawing at him. The man ran a hand through his hair, eyes scanning the room as if hoping for some overlooked clue to suddenly appear.

“I remember… **** missing dinner sometimes, but yeah, not breakfast. Does she?” Dick countered, worry clear on his face. He continued, “...did she leave a note or anything?”  

“No, I am afraid not Master Dick.” Alfred replied. “Although she has sent a message yesterday afternoon indicating she would be attending an art exhibit on Paris Island. That was the last I heard from her.”  

Alfred handed his phone to Dick, who took a moment to examine the message, scrolling up slightly to look for additional clues before returning it when he found nothing else. Meanwhile, Damian kept sneaking glances at the screen, pretending not to care—an act that did not escape the butler’s notice.

The concern in the air was evident now. Even Damian’s stubborn glare softened with a trace of apprehension.  

 “Well, we can check the exhibit, retrace her steps,” Dick said, returning Alfred’s phone back to his grasp and already pulling out his own to do some digging.  

Then a sudden noise from the foyer snapped their attention away. Boots thudded against the marble floor—loud, heavy, unapologetic. Jason.   

“Alfred, I swear, if this is about another thing he wants me to—” Jason stopped mid-sentence, eyes narrowing as he took in their expressions. “What’s with the silence? Something went down into shit or what?”   

Alfred cleared his throat, his composure slipping just slightly. “Master Jason. I was just informing the others that Miss **** appears to be missing.”  

“What?” Jason’s voice cracked with surprise, his entire posture stiffening. “What do you mean, missing? Since when?”  

“Tim is already checking her laptop,” Dick interjected. “She went to an art exhibit yesterday and hasn't come back. No recent messages, no calls—nothing.”   

Jason stared at him, the flash of anger immediate and visceral, but subdued. “And you’re just now telling me?”  

“I was about to, sir,” Alfred replied, unflinching despite the heat in Jason’s voice. “We only confirmed her absence a few moments ago.”  

Jason’s fists clenched, his gaze darting toward the stairs, then back at Alfred. “Where’s he?” Jason snarled, with everyone in the room knowing full well who he was referring to.

“Unavailable.”  Replied Dick.

“Bullshit.” Jason swore under his breath, running a hand through his mismatched hair. “You told him yet Alfred?”  

“I attempted to, sir.” Alfred’s voice was steady, but his expression hardened. “Unfortunately, I am not always heard.”   

“Then you're gonna have to make him listen, golden boy.” Jason snapped, jabbing a finger at Dick before storming toward the Batcave entrance. “Or we’re doing this ourselves.”   

“I’ll see what I can.” Dick murmured, following Jason with a grim expression. Damian trailed after him, quiet for once, his gaze distant and troubled.  

“Wait.” Jason’s sudden halt was so abrupt, it nearly caused Dick to bump into him. His expression had shifted from anger to something resembling concern. “I think I saw her.”  

“Pardon?” Alfred’s attention snapped to Jason, his tone sharper than he intended.  

“Last night. On my patrol.” Jason’s voice lowered, his eyes darting between them. “I was cutting through the train station near Upper West Side. Saw her there with a couple of friends. Looked like some of them, they were heading home, laughing and messing around, doing what... what teenagers do.”  

“And you didn’t think to approach her?” Damian cut in, his voice laced with accusation.  

“She looked fine,” Jason shot back defensively, guilt creeping into his voice. “Figured she was just heading back to Bristol. It was late, but... she was with friends. I didn’t think—”  

“You were the last to see her,” Alfred interjected, his tone clipped. “if something happened between then and now….”  

Jason’s jaw tightened, the implications sinking in. “Then it’s on me.”  

“No,” Dick said, quick to reassure. “We’re all on this. And we’ll find her.”  

But Jason looked unconvinced, his fists still clenched as if he could punch the guilt out of himself.  

“I’ll start where I last saw her,” Jason said, his voice low and fierce. “If something happened to her between then and now, I’ll find out.”  

“Master Jason—” Alfred began, but Jason was already striding toward the door, eyes burning with a desperation Alfred hadn’t seen from someone for a long time.

And for once, Alfred was grateful for that desperation. Because if **** was out there, lost and alone, Jason would turn this place upside down, then let the whole rotten city burn just to find her.

Taglist: @kneelforloki @shycreatorreview @pearlyribbons @homeless-clown @daffy-the-duck @1abi @reeyy0-2 @ryuushou @nisarelle @cssammyyarts @bunniotomia @cxcillia @unrelatedlily @the-holy-pigeon

[brights-place]

Hiii :3c

Could I request a reader who is Malleus's adoptive sibling but they act nothing like him? Like they act more like Sebek without the fanboy part and the prejudice. Basically they have an RBF (resting bi- face) all the time and express anger openly unlike Malleus. That and they look nothing alike so-

(If I need to specify characters just tell me pls <3)

[TWST] TWST & Malleus Sibling!Reader Warnings: Fluff, Fights, Shouting, Mentions of Racism, Fancy Words A/N: OKAY SORRY THIS TOOK AWHILE BUT I PROMISE I WAS TWEAKING OUT !! Also Sylvan and Druidic is fae language in dnd IM USING IT BECAUSE YES also I’d just say that Reader grew up with malleus that’s why mostly! Im sorry this is weird and everywhere but I hope its good!

Summary: Malleus had an adopted sibling which was not known until Malleus mentioned bringing back something for his younger sibling around Yuu and the others. So the moment Malleus explained that his younger sibling was a 2nd year who was in Diasomnia known for their explosive behavior that outmatched Riddles. A student who hanged around Silver who would speak Sylvan and Druidic infront of people with a deadpan face when needing to ignoring them, while also showing their anger without hesitation more then Malleus ever could. At that moment most 2nd year students turned to Malleus and realized that Malleus was talking about a particular Second year who seemed to go head to head with housewardens, lash out at those who would speak ill of those they didn't know, and speak in a different tongue around others made them realize the only person Malleus could talk about was.. You.

Nobody would of expected it. I mean nobody would of until Malleus brought it up that HE himself the future king of briar valley had a younger sibling and that younger sibling being the person that rivals against Riddle with anger issues, Is louder than Sebek as well as being one of the people who brawled the FLOYD LEECH to the floor for speaking about Malleus. THE [Name] [Last Name] was Malleus Draconia is younger sibling adoptive but still! even though you had no resemblance? With you e/c eyes and h/c hair I mean yeah you spoke in Sylvan and Druidic infront of people with a deadpan face or when needing to ignoring them, while also showing their anger without hesitation more then Malleus ever could. Yet unlike Malleus you had a resting bitch face one that would ward off people which was what mostly happen with others especially with other 3rd years and Second years. The first years though had no idea who you were except for Sebek who would shout loudly whenever.

- Malleus loves the fact he is your older brother he wears it as a badge of honour even if you cringe at him for when he pampers your face and tries to hang around you calling him weird

- Malleus doesn’t know that you rip up and shred invitations that were given to you for patties. If malleus didn’t go you wouldn’t either without hesitation - Sibling brawls are common with you being the only one to challange malleus while Sebek shouts at you yet he does also remember that you are also a Draconia... - Malleus and you brawl with you always losing after getting tired from trying to take down your brother.

- Though you always grin at your brother and tackling him when he turns his back you are one of the only people that can do that in private times

- When people find out your related to malleus they all are just staring with wide eyes trying to understand because you were calm yes just like malleus with the same poised expression along with humour yet you lashed out to those who would insult malleus or state harm to the draconia name so you being one was weird and shocking to figure out

- Out of both of you two your the one that talks smack to people infront of their faces in fare tongue - Malleus himself though is quick to defend you against someone even when introducing you "Hello, I am Malleus Draconia. And this is my younger Sibling [Name].” "... but they’re adopted?..." the sound of lightning striking was heard as Malleus stared down at the student “What did you say about my younger sibling? Please repeat it I would love to see your face when being striked down"

- unlike malleus you were able to express more emotions towards others with your blank face staring down/up at others who would try to talk badly of those around you as if they were worth the waste of time.

- Your voice is louder than sebeks so when you need to shout over sebek. you’re close to making people go deaf. Lets not start with the loud whistle you could do to silence people faster than a librarian ever could to focus and pay attention

- When someone disrespects malleus (Leona) You would scowl at them and point out ever flaw of their entire being ripping them to shreds for even insulting your brother

- Even having a resting bitch face is normal for you yet how fast it can switch up makes people feel like they are walking on eggshells

- You and Sebek have daily debates about malleus but also what to do when protecting Malleus as his safety matters

- Sebek has stared you down when you had shouted so loudly that had everybody shut up instantly when you needed their attention to listen to someone else.

- Various characters had tried to talk to you for other reasons or for fun yet the difference between you and malleus shocked them

- Riddle has tried to talk to you as if to try understand the way a draconia would act so he knew how to also speak to malleus yet around you… the way you stared at him made him freeze for a moment under your stern gaze as if he was seeing his mother again with your blank face before you clicked your tongue and muttered something in fae tongue he never understood yet the way you patted his shoulder and left made his lips twitch up slight

- Riddle though would have you help him learn how to shout louder to get his dorm mates is attention even with his authority he needed to get better

- Leona has despised you the way you smelt, acted, held yourself and the way you had lashed out at him for speaking about your brotherly lowly made his tail flick annoyed growling. Yet he couldn’t help but respect how you stood up for your brother even if he wasn’t there.

- Leona stares at you when you’d shout at him with slight entertainment sometimes knowing that you would bite and tear him apart if you were allowed to. Even if he was a prince you made Leona feel like an equal even if you were telling him that even if he’s a prince he should respect those that hold the treaty for the kingdoms.

- Azul once tried to talk to you in an elective class but the way he noticed how you stared at him blankly and went back to focusing on the class had him deflate instantly muttering to himself how to befriend someone like you

- Azul has watched and witnessed you do many things trying to interact with you yet he can’t help but tense when he feels you wrap a hand on his shoulder to move him aside when he was in your way. It was horrifying with how blank your face was when staring at him

- Kalim calls you a friend. He has been trying to learn how to speak in Sylvan and Druidic just for you since he noticed you’d switch up languages to those around you ie. sebek, silver, lilia, and Malleus he thought it was easier to talk to you in an language you’d understand

- So when he did the way he saw your resting bitch face turned into one of shock made him freeze since he wouldn’t have expected your whole facade to drop plus when you were turning to him slowly he saw how for a moment your eyes sparked. Kalim grinned when you replied back in fae the boy excitedly nodded before trying to have a full blown conversation with you

- Malleus who was going to approach you before he heard Kalim speaking to you in Sylvan in a very broken accent. Malleus couldn’t help but smile noting down how you were making friends though he couldn’t help but have a gut twisting feeling as your older brother to be weary

- Vil has always admired your apperance yet he couldn’t help but scowl with how fats you switch up when needed to be. Like he does with epel he has tried to make-you more proper but you easily spoke up over him with a louder voice telling him that you had rights to react in ways as it is self expression and that you already know how to act in a proper way.

- Vil has witnessed how you were calm yet when Malleus came up into a topic he’d notice how you side eyed the person and would have small reactions before close to insulting the person if they were trying to belittle malleus

- Idia is scared of you the guy literally hates how loud you are and your resting face makes him flinch yet he can’t help but get entertained with how you are passionate about Malleus because if he saw you act like that for a franchise he would of definitely befriended you yet you stare people down like bugs so he’d fear you from afar.

- Idia has infact bumped into you and froze while you glared at him before noticing one if his keychains from a certain videogame that you pointed out and said “I like that character their stats are good but I couldn’t pull for them” before you walked off. Idia stared at your form wide eyed you the blank resting bitch face [Name] the one who shouts at others when they are incompetent the one that is a sibling to Malleus knows his favourite games…

- Malleus can’t express himself as he was the next king he couldn’t show expression as it causes problems so its common for him to notice that when your around him you react for him..

- Malleus can’t help but smile slightly staring at you. The way you’d express yourself louder getting others attention making a wave of noise around you so he himself could express himself slightly even if it’s a small slip of a mask for him

[shatterinseconds]

Keith is beautiful. So fucking beautiful.

The twin suns of the planet become the perfect backdrop, outlining him in shimmering gold. A concerning amount of dried blood paints the side of his face, crusted and flaking. His bottom lip is busted, his nose probably broken, his armor just as dented and bruised. Despite it all, maybe even because of it all, he’s stunning. 

Enough for Lance to stop and stare as he picks himself off the ground after a Galra soldier punted him against the rocky cliff face. His teeth still rattle from the impact; his entire body is a scream of agony, but he manages to stand.

Keith flicks the blood off his bayard before it detransitions from its sword state. He steps over the body of the Galra soldier to stand directly in front of Lance. He pats Lance’s cheek, amused by Lance’s obviousness as a twitch of a smirk presses a dimple into the corner of his mouth.

“I didn’t think you hit your head that hard.”

“Shut up.” Lance grins, reaching out to hold Keith close. His free hand, gun still activated by his side, tangles with Keith’s wild hair curling near his jaw. With his helmet lost ages ago, his hair is a wild, sweaty mess, bangs plastered to his forehead. Lance gently brushes a thumb over a newly formed bruise, and Keith’s eyelids flutter at the touch.

They’ve been at war for years. Maybe Lance has gotten too desensitized to things and maybe that’s not a good thing—but that’s something he and his future therapist can discuss whenever—if ever—they return to Earth. But present Lance doesn’t have to worry about why he finds a battle-worn Keith stupidly hot; he accepts it. Because he can. Because they’re dating now. So openly admiring the Red Paladin of Voltron? Fully on the table as suitable options during any time of the day.

“Sue me for thinking my boyfriend’s attractive,” Lance mutters, breathy as if they just kissed but really he’s just tired from the battle, tired from the war. Every day weighs heavily on him but that weight is always easier to bear with two or six.

Keith cups his face with both hands. “I’m glad you survived,” he says instead of ‘I love you.’ 

Because they made some sort of deal with themselves, that since they started dating in the middle of an active war, they promised no ‘I love yous’ to each other, no concrete declarations of long lasting affection, nothing emotionally compromising. In reality, it means the same thing. They both know it does, but they continue to use the placeholder anyways as if the facade makes the situation less personal, less likely to destabilize them if anything were to happen to the other during battle.

Lance leans forward until his forehead rests against Keith’s. “I’m glad you survived too.”

One day he’ll say ‘I love you’ to Keith. One day he’ll say it on the shores of Varadero Beach with his family’s house only a few miles away. One day it will happen. Not if. 

But until then, he wraps his arm around Keith’s waist as they hobble back to the rendezvous spot. He nuzzles his nose into the soft part of Keith’s cheek, ignoring the sweat, dirt, and blood, and smiles as Keith’s hair tickles his nose. Until then, he will whisper those words into Keith’s skin and dream about their future. 

[clare-875]

Not You (Levi x Reader)

_____ Pairing: Levi Ackerman x Female Reader Summary: Levi has a nightmare that he loses you and he doesn't handle it well Warnings: Angst, Fluff, Descriptions of blood and death, Reverse comfort [AOT Masterlist] _____

It was one scream. Piercing and sharp as it rang through the air, but Levi knew instantly who it was. His heart rate picks up, pure panic reaching the depths of his mind, prompting the movement of his body as he runs. His eyes dart around him but all he sees is darkness. Where were you? Another scream echoes through space threatening hysteria. His body moves, it had come from his right. He runs faster, sweat drenching his form. His limbs are heavy, as though he trudged through mud. His mind was pacing, pushing away the thoughts of the worst. He curses the way he seems to have forgotten something as simple as movement as it feels like eons until he catches a glimpse of a struggling shadow. His breath gets caught in his throat, his feet now stuck to the ground by some invisible chain that he can't wretch free of. His heart races so fast he can now scarcely breathe and he doesn't know how to escape the oncoming terror.

"LEVI!!" Your voice is shrill pushing through the restraints of your panic and pain. It seeps through the sobs that rake through your body, it drips with fear and dread, just like the blood that pours from you. Crimson adorns your figure; it's all Levi can see. It falls from your hands that try to pry away from the Titan you are in the hold of, it falls from your temple seeping into the white of your eyes, it breaks from your skin under the weight of its hold. Your gaze is frantic, panic-driven; it's horror. "[y-y/n]?" Levi's voice is lost in the phobia that fills him. His breath shakes and stutters as he tries to move, but again he fails. Why why why why. It's all that fills him, the same words on his mind. Why were you here? Why were you dying; he had sworn to keep you safe. Why can't he move? "L-LEVI, PLEASE-!!" Your voice is helpless under the weight of your oncoming demise as it pleads him to move. He tries. He has never tried so hard to get his slack limbs to move as much as he did now. He tries to push against the agony and restraint and yet nothing.

"[Y-Y/N]!!"

His voice is a roar across space as your eyes look at him in pure devastation. "W-why, why won't you save me?" Levi's heart drops to the floor at your utter devastation and the sobs that lace your words. The heavy feeling of your voiced disappointment churns in his chest. No. "I-" Levi tries to speak once more but now it feels as though the restraints on his form have gagged him of speech. No. God please no. "You said you'd save me, you promised-" Your voice is interrupted by another agonising scream that has Levi losing his mind. He struggles to connect his mind to his body and yet no matter how much he cries in silence there is no movement. Levi feels hot tears of pure panic reach the rims of his eyes, threatening to break free as he bears witness to the series of events he has seen too often in his life. But not you, please not you. "L-Levi," His eyes are forced upon a sight he wished he died before he'd see. The Titan evidently has had enough of its malice as it squeezes hard against your form, causing your body to collapse under the hold. In the silence the final wheeze of your voice, "Save me."

Levi's gasps are erratic as his eyes shoot open meeting darkness. His confused state is dangerously out of control as he grasps at the bed sheets beneath him for stability, squeezing them so tight he almost tears it. His mind reels trying to catch up to reality, but the events of what has happened in his mind are still eerily sure in his head. He tries to control his hysteric state, pushing his hands into his face breathing shortly before trying to slow them down. Was it real? Please no. No no no no... Levi's hand has never darted so quickly to the figure that should be beside him; beside him asleep. Only, his hand meets a coolness that has his heart jolting harshly in his chest. His eyes dart to his side, gaze wide, mind frantic. When he sees that no one is there, that you aren't there, that's when he loses it, he is lost in hysteria.

Levi flies out from his bed unstable, eyes darting in the darkness of the room. His voice is lost within him out of fear at the lack of response he might find. He turns on the lamps in the room to see the empty space around him, he moves quick across your shared bedroom ripping open doors and racing across space. "[y-y/n]" His voice is breathless, barely heard as he unsteadily rushes across the rooms. He checks the office, he checks the bathroom, he checks every crevice no matter how stupid it might be. He needs to. He needs you to be alive; to be here. "[y/n]!" His voice is louder now but is met with silence. The only response that reaches him now is the dwindling remembrance of your voice; your words. "You promised me." Levi shakes his head, hand raking through his locks harshly. "Please." Levi goes for the door handle, intent on ripping apart headquarters to find you, to prove he hadn't failed you. "Save me." Tears threaten him as he goes to open the door only for it to open abruptly.

It revealed you.

You look up in surprise, having got yourself something quick to drink in the middle of the night from the kitchen. It had been a long internal debate; you knowing the effects of PTSD upon both of you. It brought horrendous nightmares, ones that had you questioning your reality; your sanity. But Levi had finally seemed to be asleep long and well enough for you to slip briefly from the bed beside him so you could quench your thirst. Evidently, you were wrong. Levi looks at you in shock, rigid form and tears lingering in his eyes. He looks tense, more than you have ever seen; as though one wrong move might cause devastation. You find yourself rigid as your eyes turn behind him to where the room you had left is now pulled apart as though there was a struggle. Your gaze meets your lover once more as your mind connects the dots.

You move forward hesitantly. "Levi?" He turns to you then, finally breaking free of the turmoil he had faced in such a short period of time. You move forward seeing the shock, the dread, the relief pouring from him. You reach out gently and he instantly responds to your touch as you hold him against you and he puts his arms tight around your form. His hands shake subtly but his embrace is taut and you let him be. He lets himself breathe. He lets himself catch up to reality. He begs to whatever being is up there, that they don't take you away from him. You stay there for long moments, him just matching your breathing, inhaling your sweet scent and losing himself in the soft caress of your touch. Him, gripping onto his sanity.

"Levi?" You say softly once you have stayed in his tight embrace for several long moments. You feel his limbs slowly start to slack as he releases you of his form, but barely lets you an inch out of his grasp. "Are you okay?" Levi can barely look up to you as you meet his shadowed gaze. "I'm sorry, I just went to get something to drink. I didn't think- What happened?" Levi's hand is within your own as you squeeze it gently, hoping to provide some comfort to his blatant pain. Levi's voice shakes but drips of grief and exhaustion as he speaks to you. "Just don't- don't die... not you." You look up at his defeated form, so uncharacteristically vulnerable, so utterly embodied by the emotions you know he tries so hard to hide. You pull him to the couch in the room as you sit beside each other. "I won't."

The both of you know that there was no truth to your words. Anyone could die when beyond the walls; it seemed death would come even when you were within them. But Levi allowed the contentment of your words to seep within him. He allowed your hands to gently caress his raven locks and allowed the warmth of your body to bring him back to his reality. He pushed away the lingering words you spoke to him in the depths of his dreams: the disappointment, the echoing screams. He never told you all of what happened in his nightmare but you could guess well enough. You found all the answers you would need in the way he muttered under his breath until the morning sun shone past the far-off horizon.

"Not you..."

[writingoddess1125]

Jessica Rabbit Effect pt. 4

So a lot of people have asked what if Crocodile & Mihawk found out about Buggys hot wife. So here we are!

Previous <<<

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Masterlist <<

• Buggy would be dragging his feet and reluctant on letting you go.. Truthfully he wanted to keep you on his little island village were you could live in ignorance and bliss. (Cause he's possessive)

• However it seemed some things couldnt be helped-

• Especially after your kidnapping attempt. So he felt safer dragging you with him to the Cross Guild meeting-

• "I'm so nervous" You admit, stepping in land as he kept you close.

• "Don't be- You'll be fine. I promise nothing will happen" He stated confidently, you assuming because these men were his friends- (While Buggy ment he'd kill to make sure no one harmed you)

• Once inside you saw them- And you damn near were ready to run back to the ship..

• They looked so much scarier in person!

• Craning your head up to meet the two massive men- Your nerves now all over the place as they just seemed to stare down at you.

• Hard-

• Your hand instinctively squeezing Buggy for reassurance.

• "Croc, Hawk- This is my Wife (Y/N)" Buggy said calmly with a hint of irriation in his voice at having them meet you at all, keeping a secure hand on your waist as you smiled softly at the two infamous men, still a bit nervous.

• "It's lovely to meet you both"

• Sir Crocodile and Mihawk exchanged puzzled glances as they stood before Buggy's wife.

• Perplexed-

• This pretty women was Buggy's wife?- Sure they had both heard rumors that she was apparently attractive but they assumed this was just Buggy's dramatic words floating around.

• However you were actually gorgeous!?

• Crocodile muttered, "Lovely to meet you as well-" Migawk nodding in greeting to you.

• "I know its a bit short notice me coming here and all, vut I made you both some gifts as a gesture of kindness" You say so sweetly as you reach into your bag and pull out the nice gifts for both of them nicely wrapped in colored tissue paper. Mentally praying Buggy's information was correct.

• Both Guild Leaders took the gifts in question- Still assuming something about this was fishy as both slowly ripped the tissue paper to take a peak at what you'd made.

• You had made a beautiful silk orange gold puff tie for Sir Crocodile since Buggy kept saying he was wearing a 'scarf' as a tie (But you knew better that it's a Puff Tie and not a scarf)

• And for Sir Mihawk you made him a white ocean cotton button down with front frills, you didn't make it as dramatic as you typically made Buggys but it was a incredibly pretty and beautiful shirt that would be comforble to wear whenever.

• Both men stared at the gifts, like they were trying to figure out what sort of trickery this was.

• "You made these?" Mihawk questioned at first,

• "I'm a seamstress" You state calmly, a bit worried they wouldn't be interested. However smiled when Crocodile complemented your craft and the quality of the tie.

• Once inside the main meeting room, conversation flowed naturally, You chatting up both men so they could become familiar with you. Even telling them the story of how you and Buggy met all those years ago.

• "Are you wanted to married him?-" Crocodile mused, taking another drag of his cigar.

• "Of course! He's so sweet afterall" Buggy looked miffed by Crocodiles words and the fact you gushed so much-

• Mihawk was the most interested in you however, taking sips of wine as he looked over you calmly.

• "Would you reconsider your marriage for a more suitable option?-" He so bluntly asked which made you blink in total surprise.

• "HEY!" Buggy yelled, Wrapping a protective arm around you as he began to yell at Mihawk for daring to 'hit on' his lovely wife- His temper definitely getting the best of him.

• Buggy throwing a full on tantrum now as he pointed a finger at Mihawk and screamed at him. The yellow eyed man grabbing his sword in warning-

• You flushed in embrassment and patted Buggys arm gently to calm him down before he got chopped to bits. "No No- I'm very happy in my marriage and love my husband dearly. I wouldn't choose anyone else-"

• Buggy stopped his little tantrum and seemed to be soothed by your gentle hands and soft words.

• Both pirates respecting such a loyal trait and moving on from such conversations.

• Both Guild Leaders found you quite enjoyable- You had wonderful humor, great in terms of conversation and essentially made up for everything your husband lacked.

• Work did take place however, Buggy and the two men talking over strategies of wealth and gaining a greater sense of power between them all.

• They did however find it irritating they couldn't beat Buggy's ass like normal- Seeing how it would upset you and the man seemed to be practically glued to you.

• By the time for you and Buggy to retire, Maps, Plans and even money had been exchanged-

• As the meeting delved later. Food and Alcohol was served, which left you full and a bit tipsy. Leaning your head on Buggy's shoulder as you soon fell asleep against him.

• "(Y/N)? Buggy said softly, claiming his arm to properly secure you against him as he saw your sleeping form.

• "Seems it's time to go our separate ways" Migawk said calmly, having finished off 4 bottles of wine himself and not too far behind you in terms of sleep. Crocodile wiping his mouth of the crumbs with a napkin as he set his near finished cigar on a ash tray.

• "Yes.." Buggy said softly, scooping you up with care.

• "....Since my wife is asleep- I need to say this to you both"

• Buggy didn't look at the two of them just stroking your hair as you slept- "I will only speak this once... If you two hurt my wife or make her upset in any way- Death will be the kindest thing I can give to you"

• They had always know Buggy hid his true abilities and simply didn't take things seriously- But they saw you were his only button.

• His only weakness-

• No words were exchanged, but a silent agreement seemed to settle on the three men.

• You were off limits.

• Buggy carried you out of the meeting hall, taking you to his private quarters so you could rest properly. Already mentally mapping out changing you into your nice PJs-

• The two men left behind watching their peer leave with his prized wife. Crocodile muttered, "How did Buggy manage to snag such a pretty and sweet wife?"

• Mihawk, equally mystified nodding in agreement.

• "It's a mystery as profound as the Grand Line itself."

Extra!-

"I can't believe those dirty bastards got you to make them clothes!" Buggy yelled, stomping his foot dramatically as he watched you sew at a purple and gold vest which clearly would belong to Crocodile by the large size.

You sitting in your favorte chair, dressed in comforble clothes as you continued to work into the evening in the home you shared with your dramatic husband.

"I make all your clothes" Gesturing to his low riding pajama pants and socks he was currently sporting. He waved this off with a dramatic eye roll-

"That's different your my wife and I still pay for your time since it's important! and they shouldnt get it fre-"

"They are paying me Buggy Boo" You cut him off quickly, taking the winds from his sails as he stopped mid rant.

"Eh?" He said confused, not knowing what you were talking about. You reach into your vanity next to you and handed your husband the letter both men had slipped you when you'd first met them in the guikd hall.

"They have me a lump some for 5 peices of clothes for each of them. 2 pairs of trousers, 2 shirts and a special item for each. For Crocodile he wanted this vest Im working on- and for Mihawk to restore a coat he liked" You explained, Buggy raising a brow at this news as he opened the letter quickly and read over how much they offered for such peices.

....

"GAHH!-"

Buggy yelled as he fell to the ground foaming at the mouth at seeing the large number.

15,000,000 Beri for each man....

He couldn't complain-

Well not about the men paying you so handsomely but about having to become the grumpy delivery man for his wife once the clothes were finished.

When he went to the meeting handing his two peers the clothes they had specially bought from you in the nice boxes youd always packed everything in.

Both men quick to open them and look over their new purchased goodies. Mihawk immediately putting on the repaired coat after seeing its quality- which was better then when he bought it.

"Tell your wife I'd like to make another commission when she has free time- I'll pay double" Mihawk said smoothing out the coat and seeing the nice gold pattern on the sleeves and nice red satin insides of the inner coat.

Crocodile adjusting his orange Puff Tie and he nodded in agreement and went through his box with great satisfaction. "Same for me as well-"

"I fucking hate you both..."

[jjkamochoso]

Pt. 2 of Imagine… Soshiro Hoshina Finding You on the Brink of Death

Angst, Fluff

Soshiro Hoshina x gn!reader

Warnings: mentions of hospital setting/devices

You can find the all angst ridden part 1 here!

One week.

That was how long it had been since Soshiro had seen your alluring (e/c) eyes, heard your infectious laugh, blushed at your gentlest smile reserved just for him. The past 7 days of you in a coma after almost becoming a kaiju meal had been devastating for him and the rest of your teammates. You had many visitors over the hours you lied completely still on your hospital bed, but you weren’t the only unmoving person in your room. Soshiro had rarely moved an inch from your side, only getting up to go to the bathroom. He couldn’t remove himself from his seat next to your fragile body in case you woke up; he couldn’t bear the thought of you being alone in such a vulnerable state anyway.

“They’re under the best care here, Hoshina. Go get some rest,” Captain Ashiro had told him on day 3, when Soshiro was sporting dark circles under his eyes from lack of sleep. He respectfully refused, and Mina knew better than to fight with him right now—he was as stubborn as he was talented with his swords. Every time the nurses came in to check your vitals, they looked upon him and his sad state of being with sorrow, feeling awful to see the man in such despair. They had taken it upon themselves to deliver meals for him since they all knew he wasn’t leaving to eat. Even if most of the time the tray sat untouched, they took it as a win when a pudding or fruit cup disappeared.

Day 5 was the hardest for Soshiro. By that point, he was delirious from staying up practically all night in case you needed something. His typed reports stopped making sense, his brain nowhere near as sharp as usual due to the fog of grief that had settled in his mind. The steady beeps of your life support machine haunted his every waking moment, a perfect symphony of the anguish he couldn’t escape. Thankfully, Kafka had heard about his vice captain’s condition and visited that night, offering to take over Soshiro’s watch in case you woke up. Soshiro was extremely reluctant at first, but he knew that you and Hibino were close; he also trusted the kind hearted man enough to know he’d be there for you in case something happened. With strong hesitation, Soshiro left your sight for the first time in 96 hours, heading to the shower. No matter how hard he scrubbed, he couldn’t wash away the feelings of guilt he harbored over your injuries.

If only I was faster, stronger… I could’ve been there sooner. Stopped the kaiju from ever sinking its disgusting teeth into you. What kind of vice captain am I? What kind of… person am I? How could I ever expect them to love me back if I can’t succeed in my one job of protecting them?

He let his tears fall freely, mixing in with the water from the shower head.

Day 7 was the point where Soshiro was just… there. He barely felt anything anymore, whether it was exhaustion, anguish, or anything else. He sat next to you like normal, gazing at your chest as it sank and rose with shallow breaths, but his eyes were glazed over in a manner reminiscent of a man without hope. The doctors didn’t have an estimated time for you to wake up. With injuries as extensive as yours, there was no telling when your body would be ready to start running on its own again. Soshiro didn’t know how to process that news; he liked seeing tangible results, and the fact that you had been hooked up to all these damn machines for so long and nothing had changed? It was pure torture to him. He found himself inching closer to you, if that were even possible, and he took hold of your hand with the softest of touches.

“I miss ya, y/n,” he whispered, bringing your hand to his lips. He was careful to not disrupt the IV as he laid a gentle kiss on your cold skin, savoring the sensation of doing what had wanted to do since he first met you all those years ago.

“Remember the promise we made to each other when we were young and dumb? Now we’re old and dumb,” he chuckled humorlessly, “and you still have to keep up your end of the bargain. You have to survive. I can’t lose you.”

He took in a deep, shaky breath. “I can’t lose you because I’m in love with you.”

It was like the world was playing a cruel joke on him—he finally garnered the courage to admit he had fallen in love, but the object of his affections wasn’t able to hear it. He let his head hang in misery as he kept your hand close to his face, eventually placing it against his cheek. He closed his eyes, wishing with all his might that you would wake up. If you died… he wouldn’t know how to move on from such a devastating blow. He knew this macabre scenario had a high probability of happening in this career field you two chose, but he always had faith in his and your abilities to stay alive. To say that faith had been shaken was the understatement of the century.

“Y/n, please. I can’t do this alone. I need ya back with me. You gotta keep fighting.”

Soshiro went to place your hand back on the bed when he swore he felt your fingers move against his own. His eyes widened in surprise as his heart started slamming against his rib cage. Was that real or just his imagination?

It happened again.

And your eyes opened.

He slammed on the call button, informing the nurses of your awakening before turning his attention back to you.

“So-soshiro,” you tried to say, but your throat couldn’t form any words.

“Shh, don’t say anything, darling, I’m right here. Always have been, always will be.”

A grin swirled with anxiety and relief was present on his lips as he looked at you.

After a few hours of tests, doctors checking up on you, and small moments to collect your thoughts, you were finally able to form coherent sentences.

“You sat here the whole time? Now I feel bad,” you said, a small frown gracing your features.

“Don’t feel bad. I didn’t want you to be alone, that’s all,” Soshiro told you, nervously scratching at the back of his neck. “Did you… happen to hear anything I was saying before you woke up?”

“What, like how we’re old and dumb and that you’re in love with me?” you said, trying your best not to laugh at his shocked expression.

“Huh? You actually did hear me? I thought that only happened in movies!” he whined, his cheeks tinged with red.

“No reason to be embarrassed, Soshiro. I didn’t know how to tell you but I’m in love with you, too. I have been for a very long time.”

Soshiro was looking upon you like you had descended directly from the heavens, his eyes gleaming with unbridled joy as his fingertips danced over your arm, tracing shapes in an intimate, comforting manner.

“I‘ve been so worried about ya, sweetheart, but now that you’re back with me, it’s like I can breathe again.”

You relished in the calm quiet of the room, basking in Soshiro’s loving presence. He was exactly the driving force behind you willing your body to wake up. You could never leave him to walk this world alone.

“I also felt you kissing my hand,” you said after a long bout of silence. “That was very sweet of you.”

“Guess all I had to do was give ya true love’s kiss to wake up?” he joked, his little fangs peeking out of his lazy grin.

“I’m looking forward to my real kiss when I get out of the hospital,” you replied, attempting to wink at him.

He leaned his face over yours, his breath leaving goosebumps in its wake. “If you want, I can give you a preview of it right now.”

You felt your pulse quicken and apparently so did the heart rate monitor you were hooked up to; the machine started beeping, alerting that your numbers were abnormal.

Soshiro kissed your forehead before sitting down again, smirking. “Do I make ya nervous?”

Now it was your turn to blush. “Watch it Hoshina, or I’ll have you admitted into the bed next to me.”

Soshiro burst out in his trademark laugh, grabbing at his stomach and wiping away the tears forming in his eyes. You could be given all the medicine known to man but nothing could make you feel better than the promise of being loved by the easily amused violet haired man who will never leave your side.