#Edit: I DID THE SWIRL THE WRONG WAY FUCK.

[lelandmylove]

Not even a minute later.

OH BROTHER WHO LET THESE GUYS COOK🗣️🗣️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️

@ganjamonster11 something small and not really that good because I GUESSSSS you've been promoted to the part of our friendship where I draw us together or whatever 🙄

[throneofsapphics]

give me more

Lucien x f!Reader

summary: you ask Lucien for help sucking his cock

warnings: gagging, oral (m!receiving)

word count: 577

a/n: it's not edited but it's here!!

kinktober masterlist

The first time, you’d barely been able to fit half of him inside of your mouth. 

Before Lucien, this had never been an issue and it simultaneously humiliated and infuriated you. 

He, of course, was the perfect gentleman and rained praises down on you during the act, but you couldn’t help feeling inadequate. It was purely competition against yourself, and the desire to make the male who meant everything to you feel as good as you possibly could. 

“Love,” Lucien interrupted your train of thought, “what’s on your mind?” Your cheeks flushed, his brows rose. He reached out, gripping your chin between his thumb and forefinger. “Tell me what’s going through that pretty little head of yours.” 

His fingers rested, electric on your skin as you took a deep breath. “I want to get better at sucking your cock.” 

“You’re perfect,” he rebutted, quick as an adder. “There’s nothing wrong with how you ‘suck my cock,’” he released your chin to add quotes around the words. “It’s perfect,” he emphasized. 

You looked at the ceiling. Mother above, you might as well argue with a brick wall. 

“I want to take more,” you tried, still avoiding eye contact. Lucien wasn’t having it and you heard rather than saw him shift forward and reach for your chin again. You let him, always craving the feeling of his fingers on your skin. 

“Then get on your knees,” the hint of dominance in his tone made your toes curl, leg muscles tightening. They loosened again as you obeyed, sliding to the floor and shifting to perch between his knees. 

“For the record, everything you do is perfect. This is for you, my love,” he said, again. You fought the urge to roll your eyes. 

It wouldn’t be too difficult for you to prove it was for him too.

Lucien watched you as he undid the laces of his pants. He might say its for you but the glistening tip of his already hard cock said his body thought otherwise. 

“Pull it out the rest of the way,” he say roughly, a slight tremor to his fingers. 

Your own fingers shaking, you reached up and shakily slid the laces out of the holes, firmly gripping his base, rising up on your knees. 

A tut from him stopped you in your tracks. 

He rose, a towering God above you, red hair flaming. 

“I think this angle will be better,” he mused, tapping your bottom lip. 

You opened, sticking your tongue out for good measure. 

Lucien dragged his cock across your lips, smearing pre-cum on them. The tip of your tongue gathered it to taste, the salty musk strangely appealing. 

“Deep breath,” he advised. 

As soon as you’d finished, he pushed past your lips, gripping your chin with one hand, the back of your hair with his other. 

“My pretty girl wants to learn how to suck my cock,” he groaned as you swirled your tongue around the base. 

You gagged as he hit the back of your throat, the point where you’d normally pull away, give yourself a moment to recover, but he held you there. 

“Relax your throat, breathe through your nose.” 

It was difficult to get over the overwhelming panic, but as soon as you did, as soon as you managed to fucking breathe, your entire body relaxed. 

He pulled you off him, ignoring the small pout on your lips. 

“Baby steps, you’ll be an expert in no time, my love.” 

kinktober taglist: @fourthwing4ever @rowaelinsdaughter @bookishbroadwaybish @lilah-asteria @nestaismommy

@erencvlt @daycourtofficial @emidpsandia @thelov3lybookworm @hannzoaks

@callsigns-haze @throneofsmut

general taglist: @rowaelinsdaughter @bookishbroadwaybish @nestaismommy @erencvlt @book-obsessed124

@callsigns-haze @littlest-w01f

[scarlethexelove]

I Did

Pairing: WandaNat x Reader

Word Count: 2261

Warnings: Mentions of torture, scars, mean tony. Nothing much else.

A/n: I want to give credit to Dolls.mcu.editz on tiktok where I saw the edit that gave me this idea. So after asking for a poll of who this should be with I made this. Starts a bit angsty but it is super fluffy at the end. Soft Natasha and Wanda 🥰 Hope you all enjoy.

NO ONE IS PERMITTED TO STEAL, COPY, OR REBLOG MY WORK AS THEIR OWN

You sit in the meeting room surrounded by all of the Avengers. On either side of you are Natasha and Wanda, your girlfriends. The conversation that is happening is making you uncomfortable to say the least. They are all talking about what is to be done if one of you is captured and possibly tortured by hydra or another entity. What would be protocols and procedures that need to be followed during and after the event. You’re quiet throughout and don’t add anything. Tony notices this and doesn’t appreciate that you are not contributing to the conversation. 

“Y/n do you have anything to add?” Tony questions a bit of malice in his words. “I would rather not.” You reply, sinking more into your seat. Wanda placing a hand on your thigh in comfort. “You always have something to add so why don’t you actually contribute to the discussion.” He pushes. You scoff and look him dead in the eye. “You would not hold up well under torture.” You calmly spoke back to him. “Oh and you would?” He raises his voice. “I did!” You just about yell back to him. 

Tony pauses a moment. Tears shine in your eyes as memories flash in your mind reminding you how you even got here. You don’t notice the sad looks around you from your fellow avengers. “Y/n I didn’t mean-” Tony is cut off by you. “Save it.” You mumble as you push your seat back and quickly make your way out of the room. Your ears ringing with the memories of your life before. You can’t even hear that people are calling after you. 

Tears start to stream down your face as you quickly keep walking. You feel a burning sensation in your skin as you become overwhelmed. The scars that scatter your body make it feel as if they are open wounds again. The pain and memories still flood in as your body moves on autopilot back to your room. 

Natasha and Wanda quickly rise and try to start following you. “Where do you think you are going? We aren’t done with setting these protocols.” Tony quickly jumps back in as your girlfriends try to go after you. Both of them turn around specks of red swirling in Wanda’s eyes as Natasha clenches her fist. “We are going to see if our girlfriend is ok. I don’t really care what you have to say right now.” Natasha spits back her anger with the man clear to everyone in the room. 

“You can check on her later. We need to get these set.” Tony still protests. Natasha slams her hands on the table, a small crack forming where her hands hit the glass table. “Listen here tin man you insulted our girlfriend. I don’t care what you decide, we are going to comfort her.” The room is tense as there is a staring contest between the two. “Well she started it.” He comes back still trying to defend himself when everyone in the room believes him to be in the wrong. 

Wanda tilts her head and red swirls in her hand. “Tony, you have no clue what she has been through. You may have been captured and held but you were never tortured. Natasha was raised and trained as an assassin against her will. Bucky was taken and experimented on as they constantly brainwashed him. I was experimented on and locked in a cell.” Wanda seethes, pointing towards the living quarters. “But she was experimented on, locked in rooms, tortured for days on end. Cut up just for fun, you have no fucking clue. So if you will excuse me we are leaving and you can fuck off.” Wanda grabs Natasha’s hand and they walk out of the room. Everyone in the room is left in show of the revelation. The only other person who is not shocked is Bucky, your best friend.

The two hear arguing ensue as they walk away towards your shared bedroom. They lightly knock on the door to not scare you but they hear no movement so they slowly open the door. They slowly enter the room but don’t see you but they see the bathroom door open. Light shines out and the sound of water pelting the tile floor is heard. “Detka.” Wanda calls out for you as they make their way into the bathroom but hear no response. 

Wanda and Natasha enter the bathroom, their eyes landing on your form sitting in the shower, your knees pulled tightly to your chest. You're still in your clothes and shoes as the water beats down on you. Natasha quickly moves to you going around you to your right side crocheting down as the water hits her. Wanda moving to your left side. They give each other a look and look back to you. You’re staring off into space, your body slightly rocking. Both women know that sometimes in stressful times your mind plays back what happened to you. Not just your mind but your body has a physical reaction. 

“Detka can I touch you?” Natasha asks. You don’t respond. She slowly reaches out for you and gently touches your arm. You jump lightly to the contact and she pulls back, but then you give a small nod for her to continue. She reaches out again and places her hand on your back gently rubbing comforting circles. “Detka may I?” Wanda asks and you also give her a nod. She smiles and follows Natasha’s lead. 

“What can we do to help sweetheart?” Wanda asks you. You finally look over to her and she can see past the water that trails down your face that you are crying, your eyes red and puffy. You open your mouth trying to speak but nothing comes out. Your eyes telling Wanda what you want her to do. “Are you sure detka?” She questions before proceeding. You lightly nod at her. She smiles. “Okay.”

Her hand goes to your head as red fills her eyes and red whisps come from her fingers. She lets what words you can’t say fill her mind before pulling her hand back, her eyes turning back to their beautiful shade of green. She gives you a soft smile and small nod. She then looks up to Natasha who is watching the interaction. 

“Her scars are burning and her clothes are overwhelming.” Natasha nods at Wanda’s words. They both work together taking off your shirt as you raise your arms. Natasha then moves in front of you. She takes off your shoes and socks, tossing them into the bathroom to deal with later. Wanda has removed your undershirt and bra tossing it with the rest. Working together again they work to remove your pants and underwear. You lift your hips to make it slightly easier on them. 

Wanda gently runs her hand down your arm. “Do you want me to try and help?” She gently asks you. “Please.” You mumble lightly. She kisses your head. “Of course. Which ones hurt?” She asks you. “Big ones.” You tell her. She knows which ones you mean. Her hand going to your left side the scar runs from just under your breast down to your mid thigh. Red comes from her fingers as it seeps down into the scar. The burn slowly fades as you feel her magic calming the nerves. Her hand moves to your right shoulder covered in a large burn scar repeating her action. She then moves to your left thigh a large circular scar doing as she has done with the other two. Your nerves calming as the burning and pain disappear. “Better?” She asks you.

You give her a nod. “Thank you.” You tell her finally, letting your body relax as you lean into Natasha. Her arms wrap around you. “No need to thank me detka.” Wanda leans in kissing your forehead. 

“Do you want to get cleaned up in the shower and get in bed?” Natasha asks you. “Mhmm.” Your reply comes in a hum. So that is what you all do. They help you up before they take off their clothes. Throwing them into the pile already on the floor. Gently washing your body and hair. 

You love the close moments with your girlfriends. Nothing sexual about it, it is just full of love and caring as they take care of you. They quickly clean themselves before helping you out of the shower. Since you have already been sensitive and overwhelmed Wanda uses her magic to dry you three off. The feeling of her warm magic eloping you and calming your nerves even more. 

Natasha picks you up. Your legs wrap around her waist and you bury your head in her neck as she carries you to bed. “My strong and tough super soldier.” Natasha chuckles as you whine into her neck. Which just causes her to chuckle more and you to poke at her side. “Heyyy.” She says. Wanda giggling at your two antics. 

 Wanda walks around to the other side getting into the bed. She moves the covers and opens her arms as Natasha places you into Wanda’s open arms. You instantly wrap around her and lay your head on your chest. Natasha crawls into the bed behind you wrapping her arms around your waist and cuddling into your back. She places small light kisses on your shoulder causing you to smile. Wanda then peppering your face with kisses which then causes you to giggle. 

“There is my sweet girl.” Wanda smiles down at you as you nuzzle into her chest. The room becomes silent as you relax into your girlfriends. The skin to skin contact is doing wonders for you. Letting you feel a closeness that you wouldn’t get with clothes on. 

Natasha kisses your shoulder again. “Marry me?” Natasha breaks the silence in the room. You look up to Wanda before turning to look at Natasha. Not sure if this is just in the heat of the moment or a true proposal. Natasha smiles before letting go of your turn and reaching into the drawer of her bedside table. She pulls out two small velvet boxes. “Wanda Maximoff and Y/n Y/l/n will you two do me the honor of becoming my wifes?” Natasha asks opening the boxes to show off two gorgeous rings. Each of them is set in silver with a beautiful garnet as the center stone and surrounded by smaller black diamonds. You can’t help but cry in happiness as you and Wanda answer in unison. “Yes!”

The three of you are now crying, happy to be taking a step forward in your relationship. “I was planning to do some crazy romantic gesture for you two but this moment just seemed too perfect to pass. I wanted you two to know how much I love you and that I would fight to the ends of the earth to keep you safe.” Natasha says through happy tears as you and Wanda cry harder. She places the rings on your fingers. 

You kiss Natasha hard and filled with love before pulling back and kissing Wanda. Wanda then leans over you and gives Natasha a kiss. Wanda then chuckles and shakes her head a bit. “What?” Natasha asks. Wanda says nothing as she gets up and walks towards the dresser and opens her sock drawer. You whine when her body heat leaves you. “I’ll be right back detka.” Wanda chuckles. 

You can’t see what she grabs as she turns and hides what she has behind her back. She walks back to the bed and climbs back in next to you. “Great minds think alike I guess.” Wanda says, pulling two more velvet boxes from behind her back. She opens them revealing similar rings that have a ruby at its center and diamonds surrounding it.  

Natasha behind you chuckles. “I guess so.” She says. “So Natasha Romanoff and Y/n Y/l/n will you marry me?” Wanda asks. You and Natasha laugh before saying yes to her. Wanda places one ring on Natasha’s finger the other she holds out for you not exactly knowing what to do with it since you have one on already. “I can wear both.” You proudly say before putting it above the other one. “Y/n/n that isn’t going to work.” Natasha laughs at your antics. 

“Wait, I have an idea.” Wanda gets back up and goes over to her jewelry box. You hear her digging through before pulling something out. She walks back to you and holds out her hand. You place the ring in her hand. She then reveals a necklace. She puts the ring on the necklace before motioning for you to turn. You turn around and Wanda secures the chain holding the ring around your neck. You smiled, placing your hand on the ring before turning back and kissing her again. 

As the excitement wears down a bit you three settle back into the bed relaxing. “I love you both so much and can’t wait to be your wife and for you two to be mine.” You say snuggled between the woman. “We love you too.” Both women say at the same time and kiss each of your cheeks. 

This day turned from a horrible day of overwhelming panic and pain into one of the best days of your life and you couldn’t be more happy than to be alive in this moment. Holding onto the loving memory forever and excited for what your future will hold.

[darling-answers]

Breaking the bed/ Desk during Sex Talon Edition.

CLEARLY AS YOU SEE IN THE TITLE! NO MINORS ARE ALLOWED, GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY BLOGS THAT ARE CLEARLY 18+

Don’t interact, try to send in request or even try to justify your being in my 18+ blogs I don’t wanna hear them nor you should be respecting my rules as I have just as good fanfic that aren’t 18+ go read those ones.

There not really like huge Warnings that are icky but some warning includes,

Praising, degrading, Mommy Kink, obviously talon being talon, AFAB reader, Some have you as the wife some are girlfriend, no reader is really invert, Akande has a more You POV and not the character pov, Boob Kink.

I promise if you send in a request I will try to get to you when I feel absolutely motivated and have inspiration to write yours.

Please please show me love and support I appreciate your guys kindness and even just sharing or reblogging goes a long way!

OVERWATCH continues here!

Reaper

Coming back from a Mission just trying to enjoy his Wife company with his new found sex drive, Moira Experiments recently made his Sex drive go sky rocket. It has been a couple of weeks since he had his own wife pussy sheath on his cock, not waiting to fill in the report to Akande. He instantly heads for his living quarters with his wife, luckily living in the talon base all other agents will do there own thing and leave him to spend quality time with his beautiful sexy wife of 13 years.

The music coming from a room deep inside the huge living quarters notify Gabriel this his wife was home and she was not notified that Gabriel was home, the moment the door slam open a yell was let out, there in all her glory the one person his cock been aching to be in contact with, his beautiful wife. His tent was showing through his pants as she didn’t even hide the obvious fact he was horny for some nice warm pussy. Unbuckling the belt she gently grabbed his wife hair by the hilt and guided her body over to the bed. Shoving her face into the pillow before she could even great him, he pulled her dress up. “ No underwear, what a slut of a woman you are, do you just walk around Talon Base showing off your cuny to whoever that desperate to look at a whore.”

Dragging his cock through his wife folds, he slowly spread her lips spitting at the sweet cunt that is so deliciously slick. He gently poke his cock through her hole, coming to sheath himself fully inside, slowly coming to pull out of her and slam harder into her. Grunts come tumbling out of his mouth as he lets out a hard sigh, he gains speed as moaning and whines follow out of his wife, holding onto the headboard the bed lets out a whole bunch of squeaks before a loud crash follows out, startling his wife cause a loud scream and the muscles of her body tenses

“Fuck! your tight!” His Teeth grits as he let out a grunt, coming to slowly rub at his wife hips, “ Easy, baby, easy your alright, fuck me it scared you didn’t you, I’m sorry I guess I went to hard, don’t worry you did nothing wrong.” He pulls out, his cock is still rock hard as he comes to turn his wife around and rub at her stomach massaging the muscles that were strain. He puts his dick back in his boxers as he lays right next to his obvious scared wife who clearly was startled by the bed breaking

Her heart is racing as Gabriel comes to slowly rub at his wife body laying passionate kisses and firm hands to steady his wife. “ I’m so sorry again I didn’t mean to cause you to worry about me.” You did nothing wrong, you the most amazing and important person ever, thank you for all you do when I go, don’t worry about sex we can always do it later.”

Sombra

“Oh mi corderito que estas tratando de hacerme, estas tratando de poner a prueba mi paciencia no sabia que podias ser tan travieso dejame verte, desnudate para mi." She let out a growl and a purr, disappearing from view coming up behind her girlfriend, as her girlfriend lifts up her shirt cold gloves come up to gently pull and push, swirling her girlfriends nipples coming up to gently push her girlfriend skirt letting her purple underwear be hooked underneath the hacker nails, stripping her off her underwear she comes to gently play with her girlfriend folds while messing with her boobs, “ Nena sabes cuanto me gusta jugar contigo, jugar con estas chicas grandes, deberías saber que no puedo evitar querer tocarte a ti y a esta cosa bonita de aquí abajo. “

coming to swirl her clit around she kissing her neck as she bends her girlfriend over her desk, were credit card information and the latest political stunt she found from hacking for the fun of it, “ Let me make you a Mami, let these tits filled with milk as you take such good care of our baby, she has your eye, and my skin tone, please let me cum inside you.” For the first time Olivia, not Sombra, whimper as she slowly finger her girlfriend swirling her fingers inside the wet cunt of her girlfriends, “ just let go, don’t you dare keep it from me.” Sombra grunts out rocking back in forth between shoving her fingers over and over inside her girlfriend cunt, slowly hitting that spot that causing stars to shift in her girlfriend eyes, blurry eyes and vision, Sombra whimper as she shoved her hips into her girlfriend causing the desk to slowly break from under them making both of them slam into the floor, poor computer cracked but not broken, on the screen data slowly sent to all of talon high member phone. “ Olivia my, hips hurt now! I can’t feel my legs!”

She whimpers as she turns her head to look at her girlfriend who is smirking, head prop up from her elbow. “ we should do that again. Maybe instead of doing it in our room, we could have fun and use The Laboratory.” “ isn’t that M-Moira O’Deorain practical living place, she has never come out of the laboratory unless she has a mission, wouldn’t that make her mad?” “ she can piss off she already made me mad what fun would it be to get revenge!”

Sigma

don’t you even dare try to touch my baby, 😒 I love him so lemme give him some platonic affection and energy this is him breaking something but this is all just platonic.

“ Boo! I got you!.” Sigma wife shouted as she raised her hands, causing her husband who was deep in thought about the ants and fairies. The stuff around them started floating as she let out a little snort realizing that her husband was not in control with his gravity as his hand shook as he let out more stressful mumbles as he frantically moved around not noticing his wife casually floating as she gently pushed her hair down that keep coming up and higher till it couldn’t pull up anymore.

“ Mr Kruiper it time for you to come back to me now.” She a soft smile fills her face as she felt her husband look at her, “ I- I’m sorry I don’t know what came over me.” She felt Sigma slowly moved towards her and flat her hair that kept moving up, she was slowly pulled to the floor as object smash into the ground around them causing a groan from a passing high officer of talon, “ you did nothing wrong Bebe, let just clean up this mess together.” She mumbles as a sweet tone is filled within seibren brain as he happily giggles and start cleaning up the mess around them with his gravity, “ I’m so sorry for scaring you hun I never intended to you be to far in that headspace.” “ it alright you love me and I know that :D.”

Widowmaker

The feeling of a spider crawling into the nest that laid the innocent creature who was the center of attention. That was the feeling that both Lacroix, no widowmaker, and her innocent girlfriend bound by. No one would be breaking the web that Lacroix made for her girlfriend, not even Moira would have her hands near it,

“ Stay still for Maman a besoin que tu te détendes, tu es trop dans ta tête. Laisse-toi aller pour maman, n'essaie pas de lutter, nous y voilà, oui bébé, tu te sens si bien et si serré pour maman" Lacroix mumbled as she gently push you to ride her, bringing your hips to go down and up, trying to ride her without her guidance would be to hard for the small headspace your overdriven into. Coming to gently hold onto Lacroix breast squishing and gently push it and rubbed it, bouncing her hip up and down she let out a whine and a moan as she leaned in to kiss her Maman, “ Mummy! Mummy please, oh god oh god!” She tighten the hold of her grip on her maman breast as her cunt tighten on the strap that Widowmaker kept bouncing her on, cum started to drip all over the strap as a loud break and crash hit the couple as Lacroix let out a big sigh keeping the tight grip onto her girlfriend,

Il est temps de trouver un nouveau lit, non seulement tu m'as chevauché jusqu'à ce que notre lit soit littéralement cassé, mais maintenant le lit est tellement dangereux que nous ne pouvons pas dormir dessus." She mumbles as she come to squeeze her girlfriend butt as she gently lifted her girlfriend off the big purple strap, cum lays onto the French women lap as Lacroix gently pat her girlfriend hair coming up to gently pull a blanket over her body and pull her into another spare room of the apartment, “ this is vexing but we will make do with it until I can get a new bed for us, this time let not have you break it.” She mumbles shyly as she gently picked her girlfriend up placing her on the bed to come over and give her girlfriend as much care as she could give to someone.

Moira

“ oh, how pitiful you must be, coming to me to satisfied your urges, acting like a newborn fawn wanting there Mummy, if you really are that pitiful then me rejecting you should cause you no harm, you can whine and whimper but that will not change my mind, I have work to do go bother some other soul.” Moira let out a tisk going back to doing her latest experiment completely ignoring her wife that was horny and being difficult, normally if her wife said she had things to do she would pout and just let it go until later on, but no, she was needy and not even The Scientific Community would grasp her away from her wife. Moira let out a grunt went hands come to find her waist tugging her away from her excitement, cold slinder hands slowly come to grab around the hair of Moira wife. “ you can’t even control yourself, how can you live knowing that you will do anything to satisfy your urges, does dignity not matter to you?”

She comes to sit down in her office chair picking her wife up by the arms and laying her over her manspread legs, her butt high in the air, Moira landed spank after spank onto her wife butt as muffled wailing was heard coming from the laboratory, flipping her wife over she comes to swaddle her wife like a new born baby, gently opening up her coat letting sucking filled the laboratory, “ you do understand that your little breaks you make me take causing us to waste time with the scientific process that I have dedicated decades to. It not that I don’t appreciate you but you should learn that greedy will only get you so far.” Moira mumbles brushes few strands out of her wife hair as she suckles on her breast, gently lifting up her wife she puts her on the table after

Shooing the lab papers away from the table having them fall to the ground, removing her lab coat as her button up shirt was let open, she slowly unbuckle her pants grabbing her strap throwing lube on it from in the draw ( she doesn’t just use lube for sex, but other expirements.) She gently started rocking into her Wife, coming to slammed deep inside her over and over, her red hair getting in the way of some part of her vision as all she can see is the sweet delicious feeling of her wife cunts deeply nestled into her strap, almost like it was made for her. She lets out a hum as she racked her nails across her wide body as she comes to gently push a little to far into the table causing one of the legs of the table to get out. She stops and looks over at the broken table leg and just hums out a “ what if I test the theory of how much this table pressure can handle before it falls out? Maybe I can make use of this.”

Akande

( it wouldn’t let me add one more photo in so now I have to make do with what I have.)

“ we need to be more careful this bed can not hold on any longer then we have already went through.” he mumbled as he gripped your hand in between his face slowly coming to get in between your neck and shoulder. Letting out smooth kisses onto your neck all the way up until your lips he slowly pushed in further as his hips connected to your pelvic bone a big noticeable bump for throughout your tummy, a whine was it out of your lips as you felt Akande bring your hands down to your stomach so that you could feel how deep he was inside of you, his big hands fit with yours as he brings it back up over yours head restraining you from moving any further than where you were. He let you chuckle. as he starts seeing the bruising, that was there last time, you guys had sex slowly start forming again. Becoming big red spots to Light bruising.

“ you do know I do not have all day to entertain your thought. Well I do appreciate you and this amazing pussy. I have other… Negotiables to attend to so I cannot stay longer than I wish to. You will see me tonight and tonight will be an even better night than what it is now just you wait.” He mumbled into your ear as his big hand coming to hold onto the headboard cause it to snap into pieces of sheer strength, he let out a sigh as it has already happened before, as he slowly move some pieces of wood out of your hair.

We will need to buy a bigger bed. Soon we have already had to thrown away the others because of it, contact my company and see if we can get a new bed as soon as possible for now we will have to sleep in this spare bedroom, I apologize my love.” taking the hands of his lover, he slowly lifted her up with one arm, coming to gently have her in the bathtubs making sure to let out smooth bubbly water come to wash away her aching muscles as he mumbled something about the fact he didn’t get to cum and neither do you, but the safety of yours was more of a priority than anything.

[unknownarmageddon]

Bathroom Sink

kross drabble thing, i didn’t do as much editing as i usually do but im happy enough with it as is i think

rental suits belongs to me and @psycho-chair

Cross was startled awake four hours before his alarm to the scraping of a window in his living room being forced open.

Sloppily forced open, and closed again, with a struggle, like whoever it was was hurrying. Hurrying desperately, erratically. He can’t remember being woken up like this before. Killer was too smooth, too undetectable. Too quiet. 

        The storm of a single person’s footsteps stumbled heavily through his apartment. The bathroom door was jerked open, and then slammed closed. 

        Cross laid there a minute. His chest rose and fell, rose and fell, shuddering with his quick breathing. Nothing about this sit right.

    The bathroom sink turned on suddenly. And if he could hear it this clearly from here, it was on strong. 

        He ripped sheets off of him and slid off his bed. He stormed, rushed, the short way through the apartment to the bathroom. There was blood on the floor.

There was blood on the floor.

    Red spots dotted a lazy, haphazard trail to the bathroom. 

That fucking idiot. 

     What was wrong with him, why did he keep doing this. Why did he keep doing this to Cross. 

      Cross didn’t stop. Before he could think about what he would find on the other side, he jerked the bathroom door open like he was trying to pull it off its hinges.

       All he saw was blood. There was blood on the counter, in the sink, on the floor, soaked into the small rectangular rug under the sink, slathered on the sink’s knobs. God, it was allover the counter. The swirl of water in the sink bowl ran red, and the crimson on the counter puddled with the liquid. A single messy handprint of blood was pressed and half smeared into the mirror. Some of it was even on the fucking walls, streaked in even messier handprints. 

          It was everywhere. In crevices Cross didn’t want to even think about.

         Killer hunched over the sink. He was propped against the wall on his shoulder, leaning and almost sliding down it. He held that arm wrapped around his torso to grip at his side. 

         Much like the state of the bathroom, he was bad, and bloody. It flowed from his nose, his mouth, dirtied his partially torn jacket. It was splattered on every article of clothing he wore. The void-like tar from his sockets was practically pouring out of his eyes, dripping down his chin and leaking out of his nose, mingling with blood. His face was busted to hell and back. His ribs probably were, too, with the way he was holding himself. Either that or he’d been stabbed. 

        He looked like a crime scene, a gruesome one. He coughed and hung directly over the sink’s bowl. A string of red dripped into it from his lips like syrup. His breathing was ragged, and his soul was like an unstable supernova; it fizzled and spun uncharacteristically rapidly. 

      It was something straight out of a overdramatic horror film, and Cross almost wanted to laugh just as much as he wanted to vomit. 

Again.

He inhaled, then exhaled, shakily.

    Maybe it wasn’t as bad as the last time he did this, but in that moment Cross didn’t even fucking care. There was still blood coating his bathroom that he’d have to clean up, and it was too late for this again. 

At least Killer was actually awake this time. 

“Killer,” Cross breathed. His right hand clenched.

    Killer turned to look at him and grinned his stupid grin when they met eyes. Though, this one was more of an ironic sneer. 

“Most of it’s not mine.” Killer rasped.

“What the hell did-“

“Ran into some trouble at work,” Killer replied. He winced as he said it, and spat another string of blood into the sink. 

“‘m fine.” 

“No, you’re not.” Cross argued, stepping farther into the room toward the sink, and him. 

“I said most of it isn’t mine.” 

“You still look like shit.” 

Killer grimaced. “Thanks.” 

      Killer fumbled to quickly pry off one of his fingerless gloves and it came away with sticky red strings. It sounded wet when it hit the counter. He started on the other, and struggled, slipped against the counter, fought with his shifting conscious state.  

      Cross immediately went to him, grabbing his wrist and roughly pulling, ripping, the glove off for him. Like he was tearing fabric, or flesh. He absently threw it onto the counter with the other, and started stripping Killer of his jacket. He was firm, and deliberate. Like a wolf taking its packmate’s prey. He gripped Killer’s arms maybe too tight, forced them out of the way, held his wrists in place. Killer staggered when he was pulled away from the wall.

      Cross didn’t aim to hurt, far from it, but he was tired and fed up and he knew if he didn’t just do it himself Killer would make this difficult. 

“Woah, woah! Don’t get too excited, I’m kinda in the middle of somethin’ here.” Killer drawled, stepping backward away from Cross and grinning that lopsided grin. 

“Shhh, shut up.” Cross hissed. 

     By the time he got the jacket off, his hands were already coated in a layer of blood, as was the ends of his sleeves. He wondered whose it was, if most of it truly wasn’t Killer’s. Whose blood did he have on his hands, whose blood was smeared all over his bathroom. It made his soul twist to think that he didn’t know, could’t ever know.

     Cross began doing the same as he did for the jacket for Killer’s shirt, just as rough, but only got halfway before he paused, and lingered. There was a slash along the top of his pelvis that grazed spine and a few bottom-most ribs. It was bleeding steadily. Cross’s grip tightened on fabric, then he let go and pushed past him in favor of the tub.

“I’m running a bath.” Cross said.

     And he did. Despite himself, despite everything in him screaming that he didn’t owe Killer this much trouble, or anything, he ran a bath. He heard shuffling as Killer managed to pull his shirt over his head, and he glanced back.

“All of it. Nothing’s coming off otherwise.” He said. “And we’ll have to wash them.”

“Fuck, pretty boy, didn’t know you had it in you.” Killer quipped from the other side of the room with mock surprise. Everything he said was tinged with fatigue.

Cross gripped the side of the tub.

    Regardless, Killer still discarded the rest of it, as well as kicked off his shoes, and his clothes became a pile on the floor. Sticky wet footsteps padded unevenly over tile, then he was beside Cross. 

      Cross didn’t look at him, not fully, not enough to see him. He grabbed him by the shoulders and half-pushed, half-lowered him into the tub. 

        Then he started scrubbing, face screwed up and brows furrowed with focus. He’d sponge off a limb, then plunge it back into the water. It was fresh, so it came off easily, at least. 

It was fresh…

     It smelled practically smotheringly metallic this close to Killer. 

      The bath quickly became red-tinted as blood seeped and washed off of Killer’s body, and the soap suds on Cross’s sponge turned pink.

“You keep doing this.” Cross murmured.

“Sorry about your carpet.” Killer replied, quietly, but still with that stupid hint of amusement. 

Cross kept his eyes on his sponge. He gradually scrubbed harder, like he was going to scrub Killer’s bones raw. “It’s always me.”

“You expect me to go anywhere else?” Killer replied sarcastically.

Cross exhaled through his nose. 

    He saw Killer’s body recoil, saw him wince almost weakly, at how hard he was scrubbing now. Cross immediately was tanged by faint guilt, despite how much part of him thought Killer deserved it for fucking up his bathroom. Cross paused to roll up his sleeves, and when he started scrubbing again, he wasn’t as rough. 

       The knuckles on Killer’s left hand were busted and bruised, but other than that the shear amount of blood on his hands wasn’t his. He was bruised what felt like everywhere, especially his face and his side. They weren’t bad. He might get a black eye, but they weren’t bad. 

     Some ribs were cracked, and he had other numerous minor cuts, but the worst injury he appeared to have was the gash on his torso. 

The gash. Cross had to do something about that.

     He emptied and refilled the tub once, and quickly, thoroughly, finished ridding Killer’s bones of the grime.

      He found himself getting surprised at how quiet Killer had gotten. Normally he’d expect more from him than this. It was like he had receded into his own mind, or like he didn’t have the energy to keep up his facade. 

“…Does it hurt?” Cross asked quietly. “To talk, I mean.”

“I’ll live.” Killer replied, which Cross took as a yes.

     Eventually Cross decided he’d done what he could, so he drained the tub a final time, and gripped Killer’s arm to assist him to his feet.

      They passed the dark, bloody pile that was Killer’s clothes, and Cross glanced at them. He’d deal with the rest of it eventually. 

        Killer leaned against Cross and staggered beside him as Cross took him to the living room. He was light; it hardly felt like Cross was even supporting anyone at all. And he was cold, even after a warm bath. He’d always ran cold, though, Cross knew that. 

        He sat Killer on the couch and left to hunt down the first aid kit. He managed to find it, detoured to quickly wash at least some of the blood off his hands in the kitchen sink, then he returned to Killer.

          He ripped the kit open, found what he needed, and his vision tunneled. He dealt with the gash first. After an inspection he decided it wasn’t that deep, thankfully. Swiftly, he pressed a wad of gauze into it and wrapped it. He relaxed, glad to have that done with. He didn’t realize he’d been that tensed. 

         He started with the rest. He wrapped cracks, applied disinfectant ointment. He kept finding new wounds; some fresh, but most were old and scarred. While he worked he didn’t fully see Killer, like when you’re so focused on a drawing you can’t see the full picture, only the stroke right in front of you. 

     But when he was wrapping the knuckles of Killer’s left hand he looked up, and saw him. He was holding a handful of now-bloody gauze to his nose with his free hand. His eyes felt more vacant than usual, and he was staring directly at Cross with an expression that he couldn’t read as any specific emotion in particular. 

     He looked better now, at least. Less like some maddened, bloody monster. That part had just receded for the time being. 

     Cross let his eyes linger on him a moment. His soul tugged. He could feel how startlingly cold Killer’s hands were in his, hear the fast whirring of his soul. His bones were still too thin.

     Cross wondered what he used to do before he knew him. Who else has had their apartment broken into in the ungodly hours of the night, who else has had their bathroom turned red. Who did he go to. Was there even anyone? Or did he just ride it out in some dark corner in an alley somewhere, like an animal looking for a hidden place to die?

This was all so absurd, Cross realized.

“You likin’ something you see?” Killer managed after Cross had apparently been staring for long enough, and for a moment he looked a bit more like how Cross was used to. 

“You’re helping me clean the bathroom.” Cross said matter-of-factly, and looked back down at Killer’s hand. 

[headsincloud9]

His Slutty Little Waist

This is a series I made based on the community's universal agreement that Navi men have slutty little waists. So these collection of smutty fics showcase that little detail I hope you enjoy

This fic is dedicated to @jakexneytiri

Paring: Jake sully × femreader

Words 6.1k

Warnings: P n V, breeding kink, mating press, oral (male and female receiving), fingerings, dirty talk, pet names, implied size difference

Summary: you have a problem an obsession his name Jake sully and his slutty little waist. You thought you kept it hidden you thought your predatory gaze was lost in the sea of others.... but you were wrong

THIS IS SMUT 18+ MINOR DNI REPEAT MINORS DNI THIS IS 18+ THIS IS SMUT

Note: Post has been edited to fix spelling, punctuation, and a few other things.

You had an obsession. If someone else said it you would have denied it, but you did and the only person to even get a confession out of you was your best friend I’xsil, she knew you better than anyone, so when you denied your obsession she stared at you until you came clean. What was your obsession: Jake... but what had your eye on him right now to be more specific to his waist... It stirred something fiercely in the pit of your stomach, and it came to the point that it made you sick. His waist was small and slender but toned and perfect to his frame. The things that swirled sinful in your mind did not even begin to be described. And that was where your mind was as you were staring down Jake like he was weak and easy prey out of the corner of your eye, so you would not bring attention to “Y/n…..y/n…Y/N” I’xsil voice finally reached your ears, and you jumped eyes, finally tearing themselves away from Jake and to your best friend.

I’xsil just stared at you only for you to say nothing staring back, like she had not caught you shamelessly eye fucking Jake mother fucking Sully AGAIN. “Y/n what just came out of my mouth” she asked. Y/n paled and then flushed with no idea what her friend had just said you were too busy distracted. Y/n’s eyes wandered again, but this time Jake was gone from his spot. The sound of a loud clap made y/n jump as you stared back at I’xsil “ For fuck sake y/n, you have a problem you are so caught up in jake and his looks you are a pain to even talk to. You groan putting your head in your hands “stop it I’xsil you do not understand his waist, his fucking sinful it is little and slutty yet toned…. i want to trace my tongue on his slutty little-“ I’xsil stopped you before the words could come out of your mouth. And you give a sinister grin, your tail thrashing with mischief, your eyes sparkling with amusement. “ i fucking hate i even asked…. is this payback for when I told you about the size of my mates, dick" she groans. y/n laughs and pushes her playfully “it might be now maybe you’ll back off when im busy” you mutter eyes searching for Jake again. Huffing your search unsuccessful, I’xsil smacked you across the head lightly “ no, what you need to do is come clean about your crush on him to him, and maybe you can get what you want. The man is unmated for Eywas sake there has to be a reason and I am sure he does notice the fact that a pair of eyes are on him all the time.” you grumble. You roll your eyes, getting up going to take a walk, get some air, and ultimately dwell on what your friend said unaware you had been overheard.

What you did not know was your friend’s observation was spot on, Jake had noticed you and your eyes no matter how you tried to hide it, he knew he could feel it; your stare was hot and desperate like a thirst that could not be satiated. It would be a lie to say he did not welcome it in fact he enjoyed it even making sure to wear his loincloth in a way that brought his body to your attention. He had been holding back to make the first move mostly to see if you would, but also he was not going to make a fool of himself if the stares were just that and nothing more. He could not deny that he had feelings for you bordering on a need that made his stomach churn and his cock jump at the thought of what he could do to you, the sound he could draw from your pretty lips. His tail swished at the thought as he felt your eyes on him again as he spoke to another clan member about something; he did not care to focus all he could focus on was you ... y/n. The heat left his body and he cut his eyes over in the direction he felt, and he noticed that you were now being scolded by your friend. The corner of his mouth was twitched in a smirk, with the idea of why you were being quietly yelled at…..he was the distraction.

He took his moment to get out of your line of sight, excusing himself, and thanked his teaching that kept him silent as he hid in the crowds of people going about their day and clan duties. He heard your voice his ears flicking towards the sound his curiosity getting the better of him as he listened to hearing his name “you do not understand his waist is fucking sinful…its so tiny and slutty yet toned…. i want to trace my tongue over his slutty little-“ he had to hold back a chuckle seeing you get hit by her with a mouth like that you needed to be taught to keep it preoccupied doing something else'' he swallowed thickly his mind conjuring up images of his sinful desire of you and now that he knew you had something for him he wouldn’t let you make the first move, not anymore. He watched you leave the forest and followed his bow with him. He did not know what he was going to do, but a few ideas were conjuring up in his mind.

Taking a moment to calm your mind as you walked you did not bother to bring your bow just the knife you carry on you at all times so you did not venture that far out from the village in case danger did occur, it was Pandora wild unforgiving and beautiful. The walk was working, and you began to focus more on nature around you “thunk”. Your ears flick hearing the noise again, and tell the sign of an arrow hitting something. Some must be trained with their bow, most likely with a new warrior. Y/n walks silently through the brush, making sure not to step on a stray branch or make noise following the sound of your tail moving slowly as curiosity takes over. Your eyes blow wide with shock, seeing it was jake. practicing his form. Y/n blinks, heart picking up and pupils blowing wide with complete fascination as you watch him pull the bow string taut keeping his posture straight and his core tight as he aimed. Your ears flick with a mischievous delight, eyes burning into his frame as you watch the abs on his torso tense and flex in anticipation of releasing something you could relate to. Y/n shifts the light of pandora casting shadows of the leaves in the brush you are hiding in yellow eyes wide tail-flicking. Unconsciously licking your lips, your eyes wonder again to his slutty little waist about the straps of his loincloth hanging even more loosely on him. Y/n shuddered feeling a heat wash over you swallowing hard wanting nothing more than to bite lick and mark that delicate blue skin that teased you since the day you first laid eyes on him. Y/n swallowed a whimper, watching him release an arrow. Y/n had no shame watching him for the heat pooling your stomach growing swirling like a heavy storm. Shifting y/n took notice of her own loincloth sopping from her own desire, eyefucking him and enjoying every minute.

Y/n’s head swirled with the same fantasy playing in her mind for weeks now on her back skin slapping skin, and hips slamming into her as you pulled him closer her legs wrapped around him his slutty little waist as he pistoned into her with no mercy muttering filth in her ears. Her mind played tricks “ good fuckin, ‘girl fir me~’ y/n heard him groan mind playing sinful tricks. You bite your bottom lip hard, swallowing a moan as the walls of your pussy walls clenched around nothing, a wave of arousal completely ruining your loin cloth. Y/n heard a noise: a stick breaking your concentration and an ear-flicking back alert. Quickly look over your shoulder eyes scanning for an unknown source that was not there. That second of distraction was your demise.

He let fly arrow after arrow waiting, his tail swishing in anticipation y/n would come looking like you always did hungry and drooling, wanting more. It was almost like a game a cat and mouse one he was getting sick of, he wasn’t used to having to hold this much restraint for something he wanted he very much like to claim what he found pretty, y/n his pretty little prey he plan to split open and devour like a starving palulukan. His mouth went dry at the thought of his tasting you ('dry mouth bringer of pleasure') swallowing thickly as his cock pressed uncomfortably against his loincloth begging for release, friction, and anything. He grunts in frustration he needed this to end before he did something without thinking and as fun as that sounded to him, he did not want to scare you off. His ears flick back and tilt his head as he draws back his bow again, having lost count how many times he would repeat his actions. He holds his position when his ears flick his tail in recognition of that burning feeling. A smirk graced his lips, was dangerous, and predatory for Na’vi. You are absolutely predictable. He readjusted his stance deeply, closing his eyes, as the sweetest scent filled his nose. His ears pressed back to his skull, and his tail was rigid as he suppressed the shiver running up his spine. Jake clenched his jaw gripping his bow until his knuckles went white that primal monster inside roaring to find the source. He nearly chuckled as he again inhaled the scent hitting him like a brick wall, exotic, sweet, and desperate. He exhaled, letting his mouth hang open, as his pupils blew wide with predatory lust. Jake went back to his ‘training’ he needed a moment where he wasn’t in your line a sight one moment for the love of Eywa one FUCKING moment. He cock was fully hard aching against his loincloth, begging for something anything…..Fuck it.

The disturbance of the forest perked his interest not because of the potential danger, but because the burning feeling subsided. He smirks, staring back at you from your hidden spot. He could make out your figure hidden in the brush if it were not for your obvious need, he would not have spotted you. Therefore, he waited for this moment. He grunts again, adjusting his loin cloth to accommodate the aching problem and his fingers twitching to stroke himself to ease the pain like he did so many other nights to the memory of your face in his mind. Jake crossed his arms waiting staring at his long abandoned bow. His heart soared, seeing your eyes scan back his direction, waiting for inevitable eye contact. He could not stop the smirk crawling over his face becoming a playful sneer, his eyes dangerous, as he stared right at you. Let’s dance y/n.

Y/n heart calms only a little scanning the brush around her, seeing nothing feeling nothing that would threaten you or your…. ‘Walk’. You sigh gently; your tail drooping ears relax before turning back. Eyes focusing back on it took a moment, but when you realized your heart stopped. Jake was staring at you…no that couldn’t be right, they both heard the movement he had to be searching. You close your eyes, taking a deep breath, everything was fine, just a little paranoia…..Shit you really needed to get this obsession under control. But opening them is what made your heart skip a beat he was still staring at you and his smile got.. wider. Oh fuck….OH FUCK your heart picked up speed looking him over slowly getting as slowly as possible crawling back body picking flight over fight. But could not deny how much this turned her on. You closed your eyes, swallowing the whine of need that threatened to escape that would have given you up completely and with quiet footing and cautious sound you silently ran until the hot feeling that swirled in your stomach subsided into a dull pulse. Y/n sighs softly catching whatever breath is left in your lungs fingers touching the trunk of a tree closing your eyes to calm your mind and think. Maybe this was a sign from Eywa to move on. You had been caught, so now you had to do everything in your power to avoid him. Slowly relaxing your guard too low to pick up that the roles were reversed, you were being watched and followed. Y/n’s ears flick hearing noise pulling your head away from the tree only to squeal with large, strong hands gripping your hips and yanking you to them. “ mawey y/n mawey just me” a deep voice chuckles in your ear, your eyes threatening to roll back in your head from the sound of his voice. “J-Jake…. You scared me,” You hiss out breathless, unable to say much else your voice ready to give out from the sheer proximity not to mention your entire body the only thing keeping you grounded; his hands.

You feel his body vibrates as a deep chuckle comes from him “why because you got caught or you realized i noticed” he purrs in your ear his lips brushing against the tip unable to control the erratic flicking from the sensation. “I ... .mmm… it’s” you couldn’t form any kind of coherent thought, your brain working on less than 20 percent the other 80 was screaming "need him ... .need him ... .need him…. You felt his hand wander from the curve of your hip down the side of your thigh and up the swell of your ass squeezing “I… you… what y/n, you’ve gotten so shy after so boldly eye fucking me like a needy slut baby girl…too late for that” he chuckles his fingers squeezing your hip as the other teases your lower back

Y/n’s tail-flicked and thrashed from the ticklish touches, he left you feeling trapped that flight response kicking in shifting to move. There was a growl as soon as you made the smallest movement to move ignoring it you lean to pull away only to feel his hand grips and wrap your tail around his forearm the grip on your hip like steel as he yanks you back to his chest “did i say you could leave y/n you have nowhere to run now so accept that.” He hums his voice-strained desperate under a deep, predatory calm. A whine slipped through your lips as you began to submit to him, not as you wanted to run anyway. The bit of your stomach churned hot as his hand moved over the torso, and the muscles jerked to his touch as your breath caught in your throat. Your thighs press together departed for friction, and the fear of being caught swirled back into the scorching heat of lust. Your jaw dropped, feeling a tug at the base of your tail, feeling your own slick begins to coat your thighs choking back a whine.

Y/n feels his nose press against her neck hearing him take a deep breath only to whimper in primal desire “do you know y/n how i knew” he murmurs against your skin pressing kisses to your neck and shoulder scenting you. You let out a whine in response, unable to form anything other than sounds like a trapped animal, which, in Jake’s eyes, you were. He places and opens a mouth kiss to your shoulder groaning as your scent hits him like a brick wall his ear pressing back to his skull. “I could smell you…. Sweet, desperate…..” he groans his fangs grazing the sensitive flesh on the back of your neck begging to bite down. “ as if you could hide from me you become shamelessly wet around me, slutty girl.” He chuckles his hands wandering again up the front of the stomach, squeezing her plump breast with his fingers sliding under the soft beading of your top. “I’m….s-sorry Jake I will not do it again, ’ you struggle to leave.

Jake grows that devolve into a needy moan spinning your smaller form around to face him and he pins you to the back of the tree, eyes blown wide the gold you had come to admire was gone leaving a black swirling pit of lust and primal desire that was eager to swallow her whole. “No you don’t get it y/n I. Want . You. I wanna make you moan, make you writhe, make you mine only mine, ” he murmurs in your ear lips pressed to the youll licking it, slowly pulling a desperate whimper from your lips for it to be returned with one of his own tail thrashing. “ I’ve been patient and I’ve given hints but you have been…..frustrating i even indulge your little obsession what was it you called my slutty little waist." You blush harder than before looking down at his waist, his loincloth hanging so low one tug, and it would fall off. “And I'm willing to do it again, let you keep your little obsession but you have to do one thing for me… can you do that” he asks breathlessly, licking a stripe up the side of your neck. You gasp fingers gripping his hip not to lose your own self as you were trapped under him “ Give into me…. give in. " he grows out watching as his hips jerk forward. To press into yours. You whine feeling the friction of his bulge on your ruined loincloth “words a baby girl.. I need the words" he demands. You stare up at him, eyes wide with lust “yes.”

Jake smiled down at you and pulled you into a searing kiss, your mind clouding as you kissed back moaning desperately into his mouth only for his tongue to slip into her mouth dominating her tongue exploring your mouth as he groaned in satisfaction finally having your mouth on his. You pull away begging for air looking up at the man still holding you like trapped prey, eyes widen feeling something hard hit your lower stomach hearing a sigh of frustration from Jake and looking down seeing he was more than just emotionally frustrated, he was completely feral. “You see what you do to me y/n…now be a good girl and get on your knees” he groans his hands cupping your neck.

You fall to your knees taking a moment to kiss down his torso licking and bitting at his waist your mind in a lust-filled haze your darkest desires bubbling up to the surface spurred on by his needy whines and deep groans “ fuck y/n you do have a fixation. You look up at him licking a long stripe up his waist, tugging off his loincloth, watching it drop your jaw doing the same. His cock hit his stomach with a light smack, and your eyes grew wide, unconsciously wetting your lips and licking them slowly. “Don’t do that y/n im barely holding on and i will fuck your throat if you do that again” he groans out voice strained a chuckle escaping him. However, you could feel his grip tightened on her hair a warning to his threat, making a very delicious promise eyes glittering with a dark mischief you looked over his cock the thick mushroom head angry and leaking a sinful amount of precum, thick shaft with the glow of his freckles a massive vein underneath her tongue begged to lick. You lick your lips again, and water your mouth as your lips are subconsciously parted. “Please…daddy” you whine. He chuckles, growling whatever restraint he had gone his eyes glaze over as he slides his cock past your parted lips. Your eyes roll back, finally having what you wanted, her tail thumping the ground in delight swirling her tongue around the thick textured shaft eyes welling with tears from the size.

Your ears flick back hearing a chuckle that devolved into a hiss and whimper as he took a moment to catch his breath “fuck my mind didnt do your mouth justice. The urge to ruin your throat is mind shattering. mmmm~ fu-uck… tap my leg three times if you need to stop okay” he says to you. You took matters in your own hands, pushing your head down the length of his cock gagging slightly as you deep throat his eyes watering blinking away tears. A wave of pleasure rushed through your body and heard him groan your name; the thick head pressed deeply into your throat. Jake pulls away a panting head tilted back staring down at the slutty sight before him; on your knees, mouth open, tongue out as sinful string of precum and spit connecting your glistening lips to his cock’s tip, wide eyes ... .all his. He grows and slides his cock back down your wanting throat with strained groan pressing as long as he could bottom out in your throat “ breath….. baby girl relax, ” he chants, hooking his wrists around the back of your neck and clasping his fingers.

Y/n coughs trying to relax their throat and breath, easier said than done you could feel twitch and throb in your throat your eyes rolling back in your head relishing in the feeling as your swallow around him trying not to gag. You gasp in relief feeling air grace your lungs again as he pulls out to the tip and snaps his hips slowly sliding his cock back inside you bob your head looking up at him before he can move his hips swirling your tongue around the shaft, teasing a thick vein that runs up the side. The sounds of Jake’s moans and the slurps of the sloppy blowjob echo in the forest around them. “ fuck wait wait y/n mmph~ ” he growls and yanks your head from his cock with a harsh pull forcing you to look up at him with drool and salty precum coating your mouth ad trailing down “ i don’t want to come in your mouth…..at least not this round” he chuckles

Y/n tail thumped on the floor and hip grinding begging for friction. Jake tilts his head, ears flicking back and smiles “ lay back “ was all he said to you and so you did. He hovers you, pulling you into a hungry kiss. His lips trailing down your skin, you let your head fall back, your body over sensitive from the lack of stimulation sending your body into a touch-starved frenzy shuttering and arching towards his lips as he bites and kisses down your body. He takes a minute as he worships your body to look you over and remember the way you looked at the soft light freckles that adorned your body glittering with the changing shade and sun. “ fuckin’ beautiful fir me “ he purrs nuzzling your hips nipping the skin before his eyes come to your loincloth soaked in your own slick ruined and clung to your cunt. He pressed his nose into your soaked loincloth with the sound of your own sopping wetness invading your ears, making you blush and moan the pressure causing you to gush and roll your hips. He inhales arousal, his tail thumps erratically, ears pressed flat to his skull “make you new one” he grumbles and your eyes widen hearing the subtle sound of his knife cutting through your loincloth and tossing it away. You hiss, feeling that the air hit your soaked cunt, biting your lip squirming. Jake grows fingers gripping your thighs as he holds them open. He runs his fingers over your thick-fold hissing "you are soaked…. bet I could slide all in one go, " he chuckles not waiting for your answer as his hot wet tongue licked your slit from opening to clit his tail thrashing as he tastes your sweet juices. You sob your thighs shaking as you feel his tongue part your opening, exploring inside you as his lips latched onto your clip sucking for a dear life. "Fuck ja-jake….OH fucking god–’ you whine gripping his hair the sweet friction causing the forest above to go hazy in your vision your brain clouded with just him. Your head tilted back your vision, a blurry mess unable to focus on anything, but the feeling of his tongue swirling around your sensitive clit and his two fingers that slid slowly inside your trembling cunt. You let out a sigh; your moan choked off as you arch your back clenching greedily around his fingers.

He groans, his jaw goes a bit slack as he feels his fingers slowly slide inside without any resistance. The walls of your cunt clench around his fingers for dear life, a high-pitched hiss escaping your lips as you hid your face in your arm. “So fucking….. I may not survive.” He murmurs more so to himself than to you. Your hips move on their own, rolling a wave of heat and pleasure rushing up their spines and through their bodies. You whine feeling his arm presses down on her hips, keeping you still. “Greedy little thing…..trying to take it all, ” he teases, hooking his fingers up the pads of his middle and ring finger massage and tease searching. You whine and whimper for more until a strangled squeak left your lips a wave of heat and pleasure ripping through your body, a river of your own juices splashing onto his fingers.. “Fuck right there” you squeal eyes rolling back body already addicted to the feeling. He chuckles “there it is….” He murmurs and gives a mischievous smile before continuing his movements, his lips latching on to your clit, and his tongue tracing shapes over and around your clit with sinful precision that made your toes curl as he abused your g spot. Your back arched your heart racing as you gave it to his mouth. Pleasure rolling through you in waves with each hard suck he gave. “Jake…..fuck….. Oh, ’ You could barely form a sentence as he continued his ears flicking back hearing your sinful moans mix with the wet squelching of your pussy as his fingers stretched and pumped your clenching walls your slick dripping down his wrist.

Y/n could feel the knot in her lower stomach curling tighter as you rolled her hip. Her walls fluttered and clenched as you were slowly coming undone; you tugged his hair by moaning his name into the air, shaking her body. ” You sobs “gonna…. gon-ahhhh–’ You whine, squirming his signal you were going to cum, he looks up his finger replacing his tongue pressing onto her clit, his fingers unrelenting on your g spot. A dangerous grin on his face “that’s it a baby girl cum for me... Let go~’ he grows panting, his voice strained, holding back his own pleasure for your own. He kisses and nips at the junction where your thigh meets your hip before latching back to a sensitive clit. Your eyes roll back as the cord breaks the heat rising through your body and crashes over you, screaming his name back arching legs shuddering around his head as white stars fill your vision. Your pussy gushes flooding his mouth with your juices, he greedily drinks, savoring your sweetness. “Good fuckin girl for me” he grunts in your pussy.

He pulled his fingers away, kissing the Clit before sucking his fingers clean. He watches you pant your eyes unfocused and glazes over a blissful smile on her face. You pant slowly coming down the blood flooding your ears, as your heart raced in your chest. You felt a hand on your cheek tapping softly “ don’t fade away just yet pretty girl.” He purrs in your ear, flicking to his soothing voice and grounding you slowly. Jake crawled over you, placing your legs over his shoulders and leaned forward. He tangled his fingers in your hair on either side of your head, gripping as your forehead touched. In a very intimate pose, the length of his cock lying pressed between the slick puffy folds throbbing with need as a precum drooled from the tip of his cook pooling on the lower stomach. Your heart leaped tail thrashing as your body knew ‘ mating press mating press.’ He groans and slips his braid over his shoulder, holding his neural queue in his fist the silent question his hips moving back and forth sliding in between her slickfold grunting his breath quivering as he stared at you his ears pressing flat to his skull as the tip of his cock pressed and nudges your clit. You slowly find your braid and hold it up looking at him for an entire conversation just through your eyes. He watched the tendrils wriggle and writhe anxious to connect to make the bond when they did everything come crashing in. Y/n could feel his lust, desire, restraint hanging by a thread, and love turned obsession pulsing through his body. He grows rolling and grinding his hips, sliding his cock over your pussy coating in your juices. A sob of frustration as his head hit your clit four times.

He pressed open mouth kissing up his fingers gripping near her scalp, licking the front of her neck, and quivering with the need to break with strain. “Can i fuck you….” He murmurs into your skin, his sharp canines grazing over your shoulder, and watering as he wants to bite so hard. “Please” he growls his hips shuddering. You nod whimpering bucking your hips desperate for him to thrust inside “words baby” he murmurs his movements unchanging even in his desperate state he’d make sure you were starved “fuck me jake….. ruin me” you beg.

Y/n's heart races with anticipation as you feel the tip press and prod at your opening heart soaring, your body finally gets what it wants. He growls gripping your hair “ well when you beg like that dirty how can i resist but i'm not going to hold back…but you knew that didnt you when you spent teasing me” he growl and snarls letting the little restraint he had go and dropped his hips sinking his thick hard cock into your awaiting cunt with no resistance. You squeal your walls clenching around him tightly, fingers gripping his waist as you feel him punch the air from your lungs with a single thrust, and nails scratching into his skin as you try to ground yourself. “ holy fuckin-” he grunts his mouth hanging open his tail curled around your thigh as his ears press back overwhelmed by the feeling as he felt you through the bond. “Your are….. Tight, greedy little cunt sucking me in” he pants peppering kisses on your skin wherever his lips could reach trying to let you adjust, but that was easier said than done.

You felt his hips moved, grinding right on your cervix, sending delicious shocks of pleasure up your spine. The mating press left you to the mercy of his whim a thought that made your pussy walls clench in delight pulling a deep groan from Jake “nnnnghhhh~ uuhhhhhh~ fuck clenching around me like that” he buries his face into your neck and lifts his hips up his cock. Scrapping deliciously over your g spot until only the tip remained, he dropped his hips again slamming hard into you. Eyes rolling back you scream as the thick head of his cock hits your cervix. He curses “sucking me in so tightly fuck y/n I don’t think i can hold back.” He begins to thrust, dropping his hips and lipping out from your greedy cunt with little control, his mind going into a feral autopilot giving into the sweet pleasure crashing through him. You moan out tears streaming down your cheeks in pleasure as your nails dig into his waist, leaving red welts as you arched her back her chest and stomach pressing to his hiss, forcing his hips deeper. He grows speeding up his movements slamming into you, with reckless abandon lost in the feeling of your tight clenching walls and your sweet moans filling the air. “Mine. All. Fuckin’. Mine.” He growl out of each word punctuated by deep thrust. A sinful mix of your moans and the sloppy sounds of skin hitting skin filling the air around them in a sweet song that only spurred deeper into the pit of lust, Jake trapped you in. Your walls clench greedily around his shaft coating him in your juices. He observed that the thick white ring of cream wrapped around the base of his cock “fuck i guessed you were a dirty little slut by the way you looked at me, but this is much better. He growls rolling his hips as he picked up his pace his fingers, finding your clit again smirking as he watched you scream and writhe under him.

You shake and sob the tears streaming down your face, the pleasure overwhelming as he covers your lips with his own swallowing your pleas and sobs of pleasure as he toyed with your clit “more” you beg desperate for another release. He grins “ I like when you beg like that.. If that is what you want, then I am going to shape you to me, ” he nips your ear and snaps his hips down his pace bruising your cervix as he plows into your squelching cunt leaking and pouring juices, soaking not only the forest floor but also his cock. His words a satisfying promise, as her cunt refused to let him go sucking him deeper with each thrust milking him for the one thing her body craved his thick hot cum. “Mine baby girl say it who do you belong to” he hisses the brutal pace making the coil in your stomach only squeeze tighter and tighter “you Jake, m’ yours, own me” you beg crying unable to hold back.

Your second orgasam hits like a brick wall; your pussy walls quivering and fluttering before letting go. His name leaves your raw throat screaming, as he fucks you through your orgasam. “ there we go that’s it let it go… goood fucking… oh fuuck” he growls praising her cut off by what happened next he could only watch. You feel an uncontrable tingle as he fucks you through your orgasam and you squeal shaking as a hot sensation rips through you, and the sound of liquid gushing and spraying fills your ears, feeling it splash coating the forest floor your thighs and Jake’s cock. He chuckles in a lust filled admiration “she’s a squirter slutty little thing I am so glad I made you mine.” He slams back into you without warning of the pain of overstimulation mqking you scream, but it was a good pain. “ Now it my turn” he growls, keeping his brutal pace growling and moaning in your ear chasing his own release. “ you’re mine y/n…say it who do you belong to” he demands. You cling to his arms around his neck as he slams and rolls his hips into yours; his movements become sloppy with his ragged breathing, and he is close. You roll your hips against his not knowing; in your words, you would push him over the edge. “ cum inside ... .I want it ... . Please beg licking a long stripe up his neck and groan his hips snapping down harder. yeah, you want it baby for me to fill you. M’ gonna give you a baby okay" He rambles “all round f'me, all mine. He rambles “all round fir me all mine…. Fuck… fu-fuck shit”. He growls slamming 3 good rough times before sinking deep and releasing inside you as he bit into your neck drawing blood and licking the wound.

You gasp pulling him into a kiss panting for air looking up at him with wide glazed over eyes biting her bottom lip giggling in sex drunk happiness, as his bite ripped another orgasam through your body. He chuckles and kisses her deeply as they both descend from their high. He smiles looking down at her “im not letting you go now baby girl not when i spent this long wanting you… you made it hard” he nuzzles you before slowly pulling out of your tired limp body’s and pulling you into his arms. “I nearly took you in front of the village” he murmurs to himself

You snuggle deep into his chest humming “ m’sorry” you murmur tired. He chuckles hearing your fatigue “s’kay I have you now and we can make up for lost time”, ’ he chuckles kissing you again letting you rest for now anyway.

Hope you enjoyed feed back is welcome and let me know if you want to be tagged in the next fic. Xoxo  

[paulrobinsonshotel]

I love RTD's writing, and it was his era that made me fall in love with the show as a kid. When it was announced he was coming back, my reaction was nothing short of ecstasy.

When the rumours began to swirl that we'd be getting a Tennant-centric special with the Doctor regenerating BACK into him, I was very much "please no", but also thinking "surely, RTD wouldn't actually do this. There's NO WAY he'd actually do this".

Then Ncuti Gatwa was announced, amazing, wonderful. He'll be fantastic, no doubt about it.

Then we got the Tennant and Tate 60th announcement. At that point, the cracks began to show. Yes, my favourite companion and one of my favourite Doctors. I was excited, but I was waiting for more. We've already seen David Tennant's Doctor and Donna Noble written by Russell T Davies, and it was great. But for an anniversary special, the things that bring different eras of the show together in celebration of its history... pretty underwhelming.

Then the thing I was dreading most, the Doctor regenerating back into Tennant - something that had been the refuge of obsessives making badly edited fan videos from 2010 onwards - actually happened. And not only that, but he regenerated straight out of Whittaker's outfit into a Tennant-esque one. Ostensibly because RTD didn't want the image of Tennant in Whittaker's outfit to be used to whip up anti-drag or transphobic hate. Despite the fact that 1) Whittaker went out of her way to make her outfit gender neutral, so that all fans would be able to dress up as her Doctor and feel included and 2) surely it's more important to broadcast the message that anyone of any gender can wear any clothes they want, and there's nothing wrong with it?

The initial Tennant/Tate announcement was in May 2022. My initial dissatisfaction was met with responses like "The episodes are ages away, just wait and see". We're fifteen months on, and no further returning characters have been announced. As far as we know, these specials will still be primarily focused on Tennant, Tate and Donna's supporting cast (that said, the one thing in all this I'm happy about is seeing Bernard Cribbins again).

Of course, that doesn't mean there's been no announcements about the episodes at all. Segun Akinola's decided to leave, so we're getting a new composer. That's exciting, I wonder who it'll be? Oh, brilliant, it's Murray Gold. Again. In RTD's own words, "is anyone surprised?". Surprised? No. But fair to say my enthusiasm went from very low to absolute zero.

Gold is great as what he does, but we just had Akinola, an incredibly skilled composer who poured his heart and soul into the show, but was never given a chance by a chunk of the fandom because he tried something different to Gold or just because they didn't like the Chibnall era as a whole. So RTD could've brought in some new talent, with a completely fresh take, but instead chose to bring back yet another person from his era, who did 10 seasons on the show, and the one person the fandom needs to move the fuck on from the most.

So that's a special meant to celebrate 60 years of the show, but specifically focused on one era of it? Coincidentally, the era of the guy writing it?

And for those who dismiss any criticism of this being RTD centric with "But Beep the Meep/The Toymaker!!!", ask yourselves this: If Chibnall stayed on and did the 60th as nothing but a Thirteen and Yaz story, but with Beep/Toymaker, or if Moffat come back and done the same with his characters, would there be anything other than across the board outrage? Classic villains do not an anniversary special make, since we've had them in every season since the revival.

I'm sure the episodes will be genuinely good, and I'll certainly be watching. Any DW is better than no DW, but of all the things they could've done for an anniversary special, this is practically an insult to the show's history.

I'll be patiently waiting for Ncuti Gatwa's era, which looks genuinely new and exciting.

Rant over.

[lowkeychenle]

chapter 13.5: maroon (M)

masterlist ← chapter 13: ?????? REPENT SINNER → chapter 14: like the old days🤪🤩

Description: After Chenle "accidentally" hits the follow button on Twitter, you try to get him to unfollow you by any means necessary, even if he's keen on staying right where he's at.

Pairing: Zhong Chenle x Reader

Genre: smut *MDNI*; bonus part that is literally just the smut implied from the last part lol

Word Count: 2,457

Content Warnings: there's no real heavy content warnings in here; angsty relationship stuff leads into oral (f receiving), slight dirty talk, sex (obvi) but like...that's pretty much it I think? use of the pet name baby?? lol

Note: HIGHLY suggest listening to Maroon by Taylor Swift while reading this for the full experience!!!! This is not edited at all I literally wrote it in two hours cut me some slack okayyy

Taglist: @poemzcheng @kpophosblog @i6renj @xuimhao @fullsunstrawberry @simpforarmihn @kpophosblog @iscocohere @222brainrot @daegale @leefullsun @annoyingbitch83 @chezziy @multifandomania @fairyjunnie @odxrilove @ckline35 @llepia @hamji-hae @haechanielove @sunflowerbebe07 @mwahaechz @buns-inhiding @samsemsame @artstaeh @thisisnotjacinta @minkyuncutie @lovelypitasworld taglist is open! comment to be added :)

Sending that text was the riskiest thing you’d ever done. You paced for the entire minute it took for him to respond, unknown emotions swirling around your chest. You’re not entirely sure how you got to this point, but all you know is he’s on his way to you.

It doesn’t take him long to get to you at all. Even with city traffic, his hotel is only fifteen minutes from your house. With your heart racing, the random shit thrown haphazardly around doesn’t even process in your mind.

And then he’s in your doorway, watching you with those eyes you fell so hard for in the first place. The dim lighting reflects like stars in his sparkling gaze, his own fear clearly plastered on his face as he stands right in front of you.

For a brief moment, you hesitate. Everything you’ve ever wanted is staring you down, but the past comes crashing back.

Looking at him now, you wonder where everything truly went wrong—where things started to go wrong. His lips—the ones you used to call home—are parted as he closes the door and locks it behind him. It feels so permanent, so real, you’re not sure what move to make. You fight against the tears wanting to form. Today has been unnaturally long, and since the two of you went in opposite directions at the end of your coffee catch-up, all you wanted was to run back to him.

He’s everything. He always has been.

But none of it matters.

Your memories come back in waves, starting with the way he twirled you around the very floors the two of you are standing on. His laugh sinking into your skin as he buries his head in your neck, holding you tightly as if he was scared to lose you.

He did. He lost you.

His sly comments that would send a deep blush to your cheeks, the first night you spent with him where he accidentally spilled red wine on you, which ultimately led to him helping you remove it.

You used to put your legs over his lap when he’d sit on your couch, and he’d pull you closer by your ankles until you were on top of him.

He’d kiss you so gently, hands ghosting all over every inch of your body. Toward the end, every touch was urgent, like it was the last time he’d ever have the chance.

Until one time, it was. He touched you for the last time.

You trusted him.

God, you trusted him and everything fell apart. He was so fucking stubborn, never wanting to let you have the last word. It was more important than finding a solution. You constantly lost sight of the why—why you were doing this, why you loved him, why you fell for him in the first place.

But now he’s here. He’s here and you want him so fucking bad.

There were so many good things about your relationship, and when you see his face and the vulnerable gleam in his eyes, you remember all of them. But there were bad times too—too many for comfort, one too many arguments for you to understand.

Chenle takes a daring step closer to you, and even with him a few feet away from you, his presence is overwhelming. You pant already, the air too thick to comfortably fill your lungs. How the fuck are you supposed to do this? There’s so much going on in the world around you, but all you can think about is your need for him.

He clenches his fists like he’s refraining from reaching out to you. Glimmers of hope cross his features—his jawline you traced along for the last time much too long ago, his soft lips you found solace in every time you lost yourself in him. Over and over again you allowed yourself to fade, and it terrified you.

A lump forms in your throat when you realize this is where you and Chenle stand. Once, you were able to throw yourself into his arms without hesitation, and now you’re scared to touch him.

How could this be your legacy?

How could it truly be over?

Being burned once by the love of your life will haunt you forever, especially if that person comes in the form of Zhong Chenle. He proudly takes up space in your home, in your heart, and you don’t have any say about it.

Everything brewing inside you becomes too much, and all you crave is the peace he used to provide you when things were calm. When he touched you, nothing existed. It was just you and him, and not a damn thing mattered other than that.

You curse under your breath, practically leaping forward to wrap your arms around him. Your fingers tangle in his hair, and the next thing you know, those soft, full lips are on yours. Despite the simple touch, the electricity from his hands pressing you closer by the small of your back and his mouth has a moan slipping from you.

His breath hitches, but he doesn’t stop. Instead, he clenches his fist around the fabric of your shirt, almost like he doesn’t believe this is real.

Every last worry dissipates, and finally, you feel at home. You said New York was your place, where you belong, but maybe you were wrong. He’s your home. He’s everything you’ve ever needed, and admitting that scares you more than you’d care to admit.

He grips the back of your neck, the warmth sending chills down your spine. His kiss is frantic while his hand on your back trails down to grab your ass. You haven’t been touched in over a year—not that anyone would make you feel like he does anyway. Your gasp allows him to slide his tongue in your mouth, but you don’t even fight for dominance. You let him have it.

“Jump,” he tells you, panting harder than he was before.

You listen to him and wrap your legs around his waist. As his arms wrap around you, he pauses, scanning over your face. The words you know he’s craving to say die on his lips, but you taste them imbued with his kiss when he reconnects with you.

You love him. You still fucking love him, and he loves you.

You’ve never met someone who vibes with you as well as he does. He knows what you’re thinking before you do, and he knows your body like it’s his own.

Silently, you plead with him to continue, and all he does is nod.

He takes you into your room and kicks the door closed behind him. Setting you on the edge of your bed, he kisses you hard. So desperately, as if he’s trying to prove something to you.

You break away from him to pull your shirt over your head, quickly lifting the bottom hem of his. He mimics your action, and then his head dips down to the swell of your breasts. You throw your head back, pushing him closer to you and sighing as he sucks and bites to leave his mark on you.

You were so sure you’d be with him forever. So sure that he was it for you—but one thing is absolute, and that’s the way no one could ever compare to him in your life. He took everything to new levels—when things were good, they were good. When they were bad, they were seismic.

The bad times never outweighed the good, but eventually, you’d had enough.

You tell yourself you’re only doing this because you’re lonely, because you miss his touch more than you could ever miss him, but you’re lying.

Somehow, you want it all again, even if it meant things were exactly the same.

You need him so badly, your body shudders with every brush of his fingertips. Reaching forward, you tug at the hem of his sweatpants.

“God, I fucking missed you, baby,” he groans, hooking his fingers in your shorts. You lift your hips, and he uses the opportunity to rip them off of you.

“Me too,” you breathe out. “Me too, Chenle, don’t stop.”

Chenle inhales sharply, unclasping your bra and pulling it off before he guides your back down on the bed. He leaves a wet trail of open-mouthed kisses down your neck to your chest, tracing over the marks blossoming on your breasts. You whine and arch into him, desperate for any touch he’s willing to give you.

His lips wrap around your nipple, and your attempt to press your thighs together is interrupted by his body. Your eyes roll back, and you run your fingers through his hair to encourage him. His tongue swirls around your bud, a string of his saliva following as he moves to the other.

You’re a fucking wreck, clinging onto your ex-boyfriend as he does everything you like. After a year, you started to think you’d exaggerated how good the sex was. Now that he’s on top of you again, you know full well you’ve never given him enough credit, let alone too much.

His fingers light fires on your skin, every inch of you much too sensitive for your own good.

“Tell me,” he mutters, kissing down your stomach until he reaches the edge of your panties. “Tell me what you want.”

“Chenle.” You let your head fall back on the mattress.

“Tell me you want me.”

“I need you.” Your brain is hazy already, and you want to push his head between your thighs to relieve the ache. He’s the only one who can.

He yanks the last piece of fabric away from your body, and you jolt when he wastes no time taking your clit in his mouth. Your moans fill the room as you grind up, an overwhelming need for him sinking into your veins. His tongue flicks back and forth while his fingers slide inside you easily with how your arousal drips down onto the mattress.

Incoherent words slip past your lips, you tug on his hair so hard he’s moaning against you, and you repeat his name like a prayer. He reaches your spot effortlessly, and everything around you blurs. You tighten around him, your whispers of pleasure turning to cries as he brings you to your high. It wracks your body, making you shake beneath him.

“Fuck me,” you gasp, pulling him upward. “Lele please, I need you right now.”

His mouth slams on yours, and your moans are swallowed. You scoot back to give him space to climb over you, and before he does, he pushes his sweats and boxers down. Wrapping your fingers around his cock, you jerk him slowly in pace with his kiss. He’s just as sensitive as you, fucking your fist with a needy sigh.

“Are you sure?” he asks breathlessly, his forehead on yours.

You nod. “Please.”

He doesn’t tease you anymore. Lining his tip up with your entrance, he gulps before pressing into you. A whimper leaves his mouth as he bottoms out inside you, his head falling against your neck as he grips your hip tightly. Chills roll down your spine at the sound, and you close your eyes and run your fingers through his hair, unable to breathe.

It’s been so fucking long since he’s filled you like this, and you spread your legs further apart in an attempt to get him deeper.

“‘M sorry,” he whispers. “Just need a second, baby.”

You nod, relishing in being so close to him again. Pleasure clouds your head, leaving you a blissful state of peace, like nothing could ever go wrong for you two.

“You feel so good,” he hums. “Never wanna be without this.”

“Me too.” You lift your hips to encourage him.

He moves his head to look at you, to watch your face as he slowly pulls out of you to push in at the same pace. Heat swarms your body, the firm press of his chest against yours making every neuron fire at once. With anyone else, you’d shy away from eye contact during such an intimate moment. With Chenle, with the love of your life, you meet his gaze and, despite pleasure weighing heavily on your eyelids, you refuse to look away.

His lips barely brush yours as he sets a steady, slow pace. Your toes curl and moans pour from you, but you want to be closer. His cock drags against your walls, depleting each of your worries one by one.

“Fuck, I’m not gonna last long,” he groans, eyebrows furrowing as he pants. “You feel so fucking good, baby, it’s been so fucking long.”

He reaches down and rubs your clit, cursing again. His thrusts pick up speed, and as his rhythm falls apart, you know he’s close. He feels so heavenly inside you—between the sensitivity you still feel from your first orgasm and the pleasure of the stimulation on your throbbing bud and his length stretching you to your limits, you’re seconds away from finishing, too.

“Cum inside me,” you beg him, digging your nails into his shoulders. “Please, Lele.”

His hips jerk, and the tip of his cock slams into your spot. You’re catapulted into your orgasm, back arching as you practically scream for him. His eyes roll back as he spills deep inside you. Panting, he collapses on top of you, kissing along your collarbone.

“Holy shit,” he whispers, resting on your chest.

Your heart pounds so hard, you know he hears it. You gently drag your nails up and down his back, helping him calm down from his high. After a minute of him pressed against you, he leans up to kiss you, his mouth gentle and slow.

It scares you. It twists your insides and sends a pang of terror through you.

This isn’t a I-just-hooked-up-with-my-ex kiss.

It’s one you experience when you’re in love. One that could never be mistaken for something else.

This’ll turn into a slippery slope, you know that, but you don’t dare ruin the moment now. As his lips work on yours, you disappear into a simpler time—one where he was yours, and you were his.

After a few moments, he stops, pulling himself out of you before going into your bathroom for a towel. Nothing has changed since the last time he was here, so he’s got your house memorized down to where you keep the extra dog food you bought when he used to bring Daegal with him.

Tears well in your eyes, and once he cleans you up and climbs back into your bed, you bury yourself in his chest. You needed this. You need him.

What are the chances it works out the second time?

[breanime]

Bre's Random Thots: HOTD and TLK Edition

In relation to this poll-- don't forget to vote!

Warning: Steamy, NSFW, yandere tendencies, if you know what I am, you know what this is gonna be lol

Characters: Aemond Targaryen, Sihtric Kjartansson, Finan the Agile

I'm considering writing: Sigtryggr Ivarsson, Uhtred Ragnarsson, Cregan Stark

Obsessed Arranged Marriage--Aemond Targaryen

Aemond found no sleep the night he was told that his hand had been promised to you, afraid if he closed his eye, he would awaken from this dream. You were to be his. You, with your sharp wit and bright mind and pretty face and soft-looking, plump lips. Aemond had spent months pining for you, fixated on his sister's pretty new friend, wanting nothing more than to touch you, hold you...

Claim you.

And now, you would be his, bound to him by law and vow, promised to him through weeks of negotiations that neither of you had been privy to. He had spent the first part of the night pacing, thinking of all the ways it could go wrong. What if your family withdrew and broke their promise? What if, after the vows had been said, you did not accept him? What if you never loved him? Aemond's pacing had ceased at that thought, his stomach churning in a swirl of despair and rage at the idea of you rejecting him. But then, as he pictured you, his mind supplied him with an answer to his silent question. What if you never loved him?

He would have you still.

Aemond stood, silent and tense, as he pictured you, his pretty wife, bound to him until death took you both. Even if you never loved him, he would have you. You would be his, and he spent the next portion of his evening imagining, in great detail, all of the ways he could claim you. He pictured the way your mouth would look around his cock, stuffed with him, eyes wide open and gazing up at him as you sat on your knees. He thought of the sounds you would make as he fucked you--no, made love to you--no. Fucked.

The last of the night, until the sun rose and his body, already dedicated to pleasing you, sagged with exhaustion, was spent fucking his fist, pretending it was your mouth, your cunt, your tight, tiny asshole, until Aemond had emptied his balls.

And still, he wanted you.

Aemond watched the sun rise over King's Landing, heard the low grumbles of Vhagar rising in the distance, and sighed. His hand was still feebly wrapped around his now soft cock, abused to exhaustion at just the thought of you, his wife to be.

He felt himself twitch in his hand, tempted at the reminder of what you would become to him--his wife, and Aemond couldn't help but smirk, amused at his own desperation. You were to be his, and his alone.

He would have you.

Sihtric Kjartansson--Modern Jealous

Sihtric had an Instagram for two reasons: one, because Finan said it was weird not to have one, and two, because you had an Instagram.

He scrolled through his feed, ignoring most of the posts, but taking note of a few. Edward posted a picture with Uhtred at some conference the latter had been forced to go to, using Sihtric's friend to gain clout, no doubt. Meanwhile, Uhtred posted a story--tagging Sihtric, of course--showing the guys going absolutely insane at the bar last night. Sihtric bit his lip as he watched the story, his mismatched eyes immediately finding himself in the background, even with Uhtred's shaky camerawork. Sihtric was easy to find, after all.

He was always standing next to you.

In the video, Uhtred was showing the crowd to the camera, grinning widely with Finan at his side, gesturing to a very drunk Osferth off to the side, clearly flirting with some girl while another watched, arms folded. Aldhelm was there as well, smiling shyly, eyes on his cup, as Aethelflaed, always that much more affectionate when tipsy, laid her head on his shoulder. Sihtric smiled warmly for a moment at the memory--it had been a good night, last night. The smile, however, quickly slid into a smirk as the images flashed in front of his eyes, documented by Uhtred. Sihtric saw himself, his tattoos glistening against his skin, holding you to him, his large hands on your waist. You were laughing, and Sihtric could almost hear the sweet sounds of your pleasure over the music, could see the way the sweat slid down your neck as you laughed. Even now, he felt himself stiffen, his cock rising at the thought of your neck, exposed for him, covered in his kiss, his bite. He had experienced a similar thought last night, and Sihtric watched as he acted on it.

In the video, Sihtric pulled you that much closer, one of his large hands gripping your ass, his tattooed fingers curling into your soft curves until his face was buried in your neck. He watched himself latch onto you, and his eyes widened as he saw, for the first time, the face you made when he did that. Sihtric grinned, teeth bared like a wolf, as he watched the way your face contorted; your cute little nose scrunched up as your pretty mouth fell open in a gasp, how your tiny little hands clung to him, wanting him closer, and Gods, Sihtric couldn't wait to see you again and get you closer, fuck, the way you looked, he just--

--the video morphed into the next slide, and Sihtric was reminded that this was Uhtred's story, as vivid as the memories were, what he was looking at now (a scowling Brida flipping off the camera while Cnut, red as a tomato, raised his empty glass in a toast), was public. Anyone could see it.

Anyone.

Could see it. You. Your sexy, beautiful face alive with pleasure.

Sihtric scowled, suddenly frustrated. That face was for him, and him alone. It wasn't fair that others could see it, would see it... but then again, Sihtric thought, barely registering the next slide of the story being shown-- Osferth with a third, different girl--maybe this was too his advantage. Sihtric enjoyed marking you up, displaying his claim on you. He liked to touch you too, keep an arm on you or his hand on your thigh, so everyone around could tell that you were his girl. And so now, with this video, that fact was broadcast that much further. really, he should be thanking Uhtred. Because now, everyone who followed him (which were a LOT of people, it was insane), could see those few seconds on his story and know, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that you were Sihtric's woman. The story flashed twice more, depicting Finan and Uhtred teasing Aldhelm-- about his crush on Aethelflaed, Sihtric knew, and then a video of a fondly exasperated Hild in a Sihtric-Uhtred-Finan bear hug while Osferth could be seen making out with a fourth girl in the background, before the story--and Sihtric's temper--flashed again.

The next image was of you and Uhtred. This did not spark Sihtric's temper at all; he loved how close you were with his friends, they all adored you, and Sihtric felt he could trust any of them to look after you if he was ever gone. In fact, the picture was cute. Sihtric took a screenshot so he could keep it. You stood beside Uhtred, posing the same as him, your face smug and proud in a perfect imitation of his brash friend. Since you were copying Uhtred, you were standing like him, feet apart, face forward, chest pushed up, that cute expression on your face making Sihtric's heart swell with affection. Immediately afterwards, Uhtred's story switched to a text box, and Sihtric saw that Uhtred had tagged him in it. The text read: "Stop asking about her, she's with @Sihtric" accompanied by an emoji rolling its eyes.

And that'd when the jealousy went from mild to... something else. His thumb moved as quickly as his mind did, until he was hearing a ringing tone followed by Uhtred sighing, "Yeah, Sihtric?" He already knew where this was going.

Sihtric knew he was being ridiculous, overprotective, and unnecessarily possessive, but he didn't know how else to be. You were his, and his only, and he thought he has made that clear. He answered Uhtred with a low voice, eyes narrowed.

"Who's been asking about my woman?"

Waking Up Together--Finan the Agile

Finan loved waking up with you. He loved how you cuddled into his chest, loved the way his big arms engulfed you, loved how soft you felt against him. He almost always woke before you did, a habit of his warrior lifestyle and constantly being on the move. He didn't mind it so much now, though, because it gave him some quiet time to reflect before the day took his mind away.

He loved you.

Carefully, because even after all this time, Finan still secretly feared he might somehow hurt you, he ran his fingers down your arm. Your skin was warm under his touch, and Finan smiled to himself as you nuzzled into his broad chest. He found himself kissing your hairline, his eyes fluttering shut as he breathed in your scent. He had humped you on the riverbank last night, his forehead pressed against yours as he fucked into you. Finan sighed at the memory, his cock, already half-hard simply from being near you, growing even harder as he recalled the feel of your wet pussy pulsating around him. He kissed your forehead now with a tenderness that would have surprised many if they knew about it. But you did that to him, brought out his softer side, his need to protect you, to take care of you, to bring you pleasure and security and to love you.

But then again, you brought out another side to him as well.

Finan smirked, kissing down to your nose, as he thought back to earlier the previous day, sometime after him having you for breakfast, his strong hands keeping your legs open as he licked into you and before him pressing against your round ass, his cross slapping into his chest with every thrust shortly after he fucked you on the riverbank, to right after suppertime.

Finan held you close now as he thought back to the way he had slammed you on the table, tearing your dress, grinning wildly as the fabric ripped, exposing your perfect breasts to his probing tongue and hands. He had his face buried between your tits then, biting into your supple flesh and then soothing it with his dripping tongue. He had no patience then, and he took you hard and fast, much to your mutual satisfaction. Finan had fucked you like a beast, hands gripping your hips and pulling you to him as you laid on your back, legs in the air, head thrown back in pleasure. You always took him well, and Finan adored the way you loved a rough fuck. He was so big, so thick, he loved the way you would tremble taking him.

Now, Finan was fully hard. He wanted you, and he sighed sweetly as he held you, lips brushing against yours. Your nose twitched at the feel of his beard against your soft face, and Finan chuckled. He leaned forward, the mattress moving beneath him as one large hand fell to your ass, cupping it firmly as he pushed you even closer, his hard cock pressing against your soft tummy. He felt your lips pucker, and he knew you were waking up. He kissed you, soft and slow, his mouth pressing into yours with a low groan, moving against you until your lips parted. His tongue slid into your mouth easily, and he rolled on top of you, smirking when you spread your legs to make room for him.

"Good mornin' to ya, love," he whispered, his accent thickened from waking up and from the deep, insatiable desire he felt for you, "Can I fuck you?"

************************************************************************

Okkkkk goodnight! Please let me know what you think, how you feel, which one you liked best. I wrote this all at once just now, so please know that NONE of these are WIPs (Work In Progress), I just was inspired by the awesome fics I've been reading lately, and @fvckthisbxtchup specifically got my engine revving today, so if you did like any of these, thank her! Love you babe!

Again, please let me know what you think of these. I haven't written in a long time, I'm rusty, I admit that, but I also had so much fun writing these, and I wanna interact with these fandoms more so... this! This is my third time writing Aemond and my first time wiritng Sihtric and Finan, so let me know how I did! :D

I did this poll regarding some more snippets or fics or drabbles or whatever I may do in the future, please vote if you haven't already!

Thank you for reading! I really appreciate it!

[atinylittlepain]

I Wanna Marry You

no outbreak!joel miller x fem!OC

Hungry Hearts masterlist

he has a black velvet box waiting in his sock drawer. what will her answer be?

wordcount | 5K

warnings | this bad boy has it all. a little smut, a little angst, a whole lot of fluff

a/n | the jerry proposal and wedding event of the century. i had a lot of fun with this and would love to hear what y'all think <3

................................

Here’s the thing, Joel Miller is not slick. At all. And Cherry is pretty sure she knows what he’s up to.

For starters, she keeps finding him in their bedroom, his arm stuck way back into his sock drawer, though he never fails to whip around and slam it shut when she catches him, face flushed down and palming the back of his neck, a pantomime of casual guilt. He has also started making frequent trips out onto the back porch in the evening, leaving her on the couch while he takes a call. 

No, Joel Miller is not slick at all. She bets it’s Tommy’s fault, never far from a carton himself, though he knows better now than to smoke in her house, one too many swats upside the head. But he’s usually got a cigarette between his teeth when he and Joel drive together to work, so she doesn’t have to look far to figure out where Joel has picked it up again. 

It isn’t exactly that she minds him smoking. Hell, everyone did it in the eighties, and she even picked it up for a while back in the mid-nineties in the whole artsy-fartsy writing scene. What’s bothering her is that he’s making such a big deal of hiding it from her. Sure, keep it away from the girls, but why all the bullshit with her?

But she’s been waiting for him to bring it to her, something about healthy relationships and building trust and all that good stuff that she heard on some radio show, listened to while she was supposed to be doing edits for her newest project. She hasn’t snooped, she hasn’t pried, even as whatever this is continues to grate on her nerves. Supposed calls being taken, and Joel spending a bit too much time with his hand in his sock drawer.

Here’s the thing, Cherry isn’t very good at waiting. A moment of weakness, what she should be doing is going over the new round of edits she was just sent. What she finds herself doing instead is wandering upstairs into their bedroom. Everyone else out of the house, the girls at school and Joel at work for another half hour, so it’s perfectly quiet when she opens up his sock drawer and starts rifling through it.

She would have preferred to find a carton of cigarettes. Definitely not a necklace, nor a bracelet, and she’s pretty sure it’s not earrings either. No, the black velvet box is the wrong shape for any of those pieces of jewelry. She doesn’t open the box though, doesn’t really have time to when she suddenly hears the garage door opening, followed by what could only be the sound of Joel’s boots shuffling around in the kitchen. 

“Cher?” She moves before she can think, something nervous swirling up in her stomach, that damn velvet box still clutched in her hand as she makes her way downstairs. Joel stops himself mid sentence, something about needing to go to the grocery that gets cut off when he catches her pinched expression. 

“What happened? What’s the matter?” Anger feels good at least, so she scoffs, setting the ring box down on the kitchen counter between them. Joel’s face goes perfectly slack.

“You tell me. What the hell is this?” 

“That’s– you– what’re you doing snooping like that? Jesus christ.” Good, she thinks, let him get angry too. It’ll give her something to bite back at, glaring at each other from across the counter, Joel running a frustrated palm down his face.

“Snooping? Oh please, it was kinda hard not to notice your newfound obsession with the back of your fucking sock drawer. I’m telling you right now, Joel Miller, if this is what I think it is, you’ll return it if you know what’s good for you.” 

“Oh come on, Cher, just–”

“No.”

“Let’s just–”

“No, Joel. We’ve talked about this. You know that isn’t something I want.” She sees the sharp wince in his expression, but it’s not enough for her to back down, not when it comes to this. They have talked about this. A few times now. And normally, Joel is on her side, neither of them caring much about a ceremony or the titles that would come with it. Hell would have to freeze over before she took someone else’s name, not when she has built so much out of and on her own. 

“I just– it’s paperwork. That’s all it is, and a ring. You and I don’t need that, baby. It’s, we’re past that.” She knows what she’s doing with that soft baby she slips into her words, and for a beat, it seems to melt Joel just the way she wants it to, his eyes rounding a little, grimace softening around the edges. But then he huffs, a harsh drag of his fingers through his hair as he shakes his head at her.

“What about what I want, huh? Is it such a goddamn crime for me to want this? To want something a little more– a little more official? Fuck, Cherry, this isn’t– this is not how I wanted this to go.” Damn him, damn him for the way his words crack, tired and utterly disappointed at the end, a long sigh that slumps his shoulders. Damn him, she can never stay mad at him. Damn him, because she would like to give him whatever he wants, but this is not that easy. Silence falls between them, Joel resting both his palms on the counter, his head hanging down between his shoulders. Careful and quiet, she rounds the counter, one palm to his shoulder, and one covering his hand. 

“You deserve to have what you want, you do. But marriage is not– it’s not something– what we have is good, and I don’t want this– this thing to change it.” The truth of it. To her, marriage is cage. Marriage is silent houses, scraping forks at dinner. Marriage is violence. And she thinks that Joel understands that, his palm shuffling to rest over hers, thumb stroking along the side of her hand. 

“I don’t want it to be like that, Cher. Like you said, s’just paperwork. We can make it whatever we want it to be. Hell, we can just chalk it up to the tax breaks if we want.” It’s enough to coax a laugh up from her chest, her smile slipping to the side as she rests her cheek against his bicep, anger long forgotten for whatever this is. Something sweet, at least.

“Can I ask why it’s so important to you? Because if it’s just Deedee breathing down your neck I can handle–”  He cuts her off with a laugh of his own, a small shuffle for him to lean back against the counter, her stepping between his legs and letting her hands settle along his waist, dipping her head down when his chin drops in something a bit bashful.

“No, it’s not her, though she probably wouldn’t be upset at the prospect. But it is something I want, and– it’s stupid really.” She coaxes him with a quiet no, tell me, baby, squeezing at the soft part of his waist, making him huff again, and maybe flush a little. She loves getting him like this, a little mushy gushy where he’s usually such a hardass. God forbid Joel Miller have feelings, and God forbid he get embarrassed by having said feelings.

“Certainty, you know? That’s what marriage means to me. My folks– they’ve been married for fifty-something years now. And it’s a very real thing to them, that commitment. I just– I’d like that– with you.” And damn him again, for looking at her like that, brow all pinched up, worrying his bottom lip between his teeth when he finishes talking. She gets it now. Where she sees capture, captive, Joel sees comfort, reassurance that yes, this is real. Yes, staying. Got the ring and the paperwork to prove it. Maybe it could be that for her too. Maybe he could show her how.

Her answer doesn’t come in words, not at first, easy to lean forward and press her lips to his, once, twice, feeling the small curl of his smile the second time, hers matching his, fitting with his.

“So, you said something about tax breaks?” Enough to smooth out the scrunch of uncertainty in his expression, that smile threatening at the corners of his mouth while her palms smooth and shift to splay over his chest. 

“That a yes?” 

“Show me the ring, Miller.” He doesn’t turn around, just fumbles blindly behind himself until he snatches up the box. Of course, it’s perfect. A little unconventional, simple silver band with an opal set in it. Yes feels a little easier just looking at it. 

“I’m not wearing white, for the record.” 

“I’d expect nothing less, Cher.” Before he can lean in for another kiss, she remembers that initial curl of anger, pressing against his chest to hold him at bay.

“Wait, so you’re not smoking again?”

“What? Why the hell would you think that?” 

“I mean, that’s what I assumed was going on with the sock drawer and all the evening calls you were taking on the porch.” While she’s dead serious, Joel just seems entirely amused by the whole thing, letting out a laugh and squeezing at her hips even as she huffs at him.

“That’s not– those were phone calls, with Tommy. I was– well, I was planning something for you.” Damn him, Joel Miller was planning a proposal, and now she looks like a total jackass for ruining it.

“Oh, oh. What were you planning?” 

“If you weren’t so goddamned nosy maybe you would’ve gotten to find out, Cherry baby.” 

“Hey, watch it. The ring isn’t on my finger yet.” Of course Joel takes that as a challenge, one she doesn’t really care to fight against, letting him pull her closer into his chest while he fumbles with her left hand, a small, petulant grumble when it takes him a few tries to slide the ring onto her finger. When he does succeed, she indulges him with a waggle of her fingers, watching the gem glint, all light and color. 

“What do you think?” 

“You did good, Miller.”

“The girls helped pick it out.”

“You’re telling me Sarah and Ellie both knew about this? And that Ellie voluntarily looked at jewelry?” Clearly pleased with himself, he hums a yes, so smug she would smack him if it wasn’t a sweet thought. Her girl helping him pick something out for her mom. 

“Just to clarify, this does count as a yes, right?” 

“I suppose so.” She says it with a sigh, playing at resignation that he jostles out of her, another kiss that’s more answer than anything else.

…

“What do you think you’re doing?”

“Uh, putting on my suit jacket.”

“If you think you’re wearing jeans to the goddamn ceremony you’re sorely mistaken.”

“It’s Texas, Joel. You can wear jeans to a wedding.”

“Not to mine you can’t. Does Maria know about your little outfit? Because I reckon she’s not gonna be too pleased with it either.” Tommy’s face falls at that, hands pausing in his adjustment of his cufflinks.

“Shit, you think I got time to run back to my place?” 

“You’ll have to meet us there, but I ain’t letting you in the chapel like that either.” Tommy is already shuffling down the hall, though Joel chooses to ignore what he thinks is a grumbled fucking diva that comes from his brother’s mouth. More important things to be thinking about anyways, like the faint sound of Cherry and the girls getting ready down the hall. 

Sarah and Ellie had been adamant about this separation, starting last night when they stepped in front of the couch where he and Cherry were sitting. Their girls, with all the solemnity of CIA agents, informing them that the next time Joel would see his woman would be at the altar, no time for him to protest when they were already all but dragging her away from him. Sure, she was just down the hall in the guestroom, but he wasn’t about to rail against their girls’ orders, unsure whose wrath he was more afraid of, Sarah’s or Ellie’s, or the combined, nuclear explosion of the two. 

His eyes flick over to the clock on the nightstand, a muttered curse when he realizes they should have left five minutes ago. The plan, him and Sarah, his best maid of honor as she had named herself, in the truck, and Cherry and Ellie, her best maid of honor as dubbed by Sarah, in the minivan. No seeing each other until the altar, right. 

“Sarah, you ready to go? We’re already–” He doesn’t get the rest out, stumbling back in the hall when someone clamps their palms over his eyes. 

“Don’t look, old man, Jesus. We were just leaving.” He huffs at Ellie’s snappy command, a light tug to her wrists, though her hands don’t budge, clammy over the tops of his cheeks where they’re covering his eyes.

“Kid, my eyes are closed. Lay off, huh?” Albeit reluctantly, Ellie takes her hands away, a seemingly satisfied hum when she sees that his eyes are in fact closed. 

“I’ll give you the all clear when we’re down the stairs, alright? But until then, keep ‘em shut.” Lord help him.

“Uh-huh, whatever you say, boss.” Not sure what else to do, he rests his hands on his hips, eyes still scrunched shut as he hears what he thinks is the sound of Ellie and Sarah both bounding down the steps, but his whole spine shivers  when he feels a hand slip along his jaw, nails lightly scratching at his scruff.

“Look at you, baby. Always clean up so nice.” He could open his eyes, but now it feels like a game with the way her words graze right over his mouth, and he’s not about to lose. 

“How come you get to look?” A bright peel of laughter, her other palm slipping up along his chest. He can picture that grin of hers in his mind.

“Because I’m the bride, Joel. I can do whatever the fuck I want.” He has to laugh, his hands reaching blindly, slipping against silk that makes a hum settle in his chest. His eyes threaten to open on impulse to see, though he manages to keep them scrunched shut. 

“You still wanna do this, right? It’s– this is still good?” He knows it’s a stupid question, a small part of him still worried that somehow, there will be a catch to all of this. But Cherry doesn’t even indulge his ask with words, a pfft in the back of her throat before she leans in a little closer, guiding his lips to hers in a sweet, simple kiss. 

“I’ll see you at the altar, handsome.” 

…

“Dad, don’t cry. We haven’t even gotten to the church yet.” He sniffs hard, knuckles swiping under his nose as his other hand holds the passenger side door open for Sarah. 

“I’m not– not crying. You look very beautiful, honey.” An eye roll and a scoff, but he’ll take it, because she really does look lovely in the light purple dress Cherry helped her pick out, a sweet sight, with baby’s breath threaded through her hair.

His heart starts to kick up when they get to the church. It’s a small thing, simple, white clapboard and a single steeple. He knew that Deedee would have thrown a fit if they didn’t get married in a place of worship, not that he or Cherry had stepped foot in a church anytime in their recent adult lives. Still, they were happy to make that compromise, even though the priest had a small aneurysm when they told him that Cherry wouldn’t be taking Joel’s last name, no need for the Mr. and Mrs. Miller congratulations. Doing things their own way, just like they always have. 

Only the first two rows are filled across each aisle. His parents, Tommy and Maria, a handful of other friends and family. Will is here too, with his girlfriend who Cherry seems sure will soon be more than his girlfriend. Joel’s family has become hers in many ways, filling in the gaps, something he’s been happy to be able to offer to her, and to Will whenever he visits. 

He stands at the altar, waiting, Sarah right next to him, his hand on her shoulder, something to steady whatever this jittery feeling is. 

And there’s no fanfare to it, just a sudden wave of silence when she and Ellie appear at the end of the aisle, heads turning over shoulders to see. Ellie looks sharp in her suit, pleased with herself, clear in the set back of her shoulders and the tilt of her chin as she walks her mom down the aisle. And Cherry, well. 

He can already hear her snark. We’re way past white, Miller. Like sage, he thinks, soft green silk, a simple slip, her shoulders bare to reveal the dark curl of her tattoo. Her bouquet, made mostly of chrysanthemums, a broken laugh rattling in his chest at the sight. And she’s looking at him, the smallest curl of a smile, maybe a little nervous when her eyes dart to their modest audience, but then right back on him, still certain. 

“I like the suit, kid.”

“Thanks, old man.” He’s only a little surprised when Ellie offers him a quick hug, already ducking over to the side so it’s just him and Cherry, and the priest, of course.

And the rest is blissfully easy.

…

“By the power vested in me, I now pronounce you man and wife. You may kiss the bride.”

“Don’t slouch.” Her mother’s hand is a quick curl of ice at the back of her neck, just enough pressure to send her spine back into straightness from her slow slump in the pew. Honestly, she’s not sure why her family insisted on going to this wedding, it’s not like they’re that close with Lisa-Anne’s family, especially not her older sister who is the one getting married. Appearances, she reasons, always appearances with her mother and father. See and be seen. 

Right now, after a nearly two-hour long ceremony, she has no interest in what her mother and father want, a little more focused on how her tights are cutting into her waist, sweat starting to drip down her spine beneath the stiff fabric of her dress. Mercifully though, this whole wedding thing seems to be wrapping itself up, man and wife walking down the aisle to a polite chorus of clapping. Meanwhile, she’s trying to figure out how she can escape early from the party afterward, trailing a bit glumly behind Will and their parents as everyone files out of the church. 

“Hey, Cherry.” Just above a whisper, it still stops her in her tracks, stepping out of the throng of people to look around for where that sound came from. She scoffs when she sees who it is.

“What do you want, Joel?” He looks like a cartoon character running from the law, peeking out from behind the side of the church, wild grin and a jerk of his chin that she knows means come over here. She glances back to her family, making their way along with everyone else to the tent set up for the reception, and suddenly, whatever Joel’s offer may be is seeming much more appealing, already slinking off to the side and toward him. When she gets within arm’s length, he surprises her with a reach and tug to her forearm, pulling her along and behind the church, finding Tommy already partaking in what she supposes Joel wanted to rope her into.

“Hey, dipshit, I didn’t tell you to light up yet, did I? Have some manners, goddamn.” Tommy smiles sheepish, a thin seep of smoke coming out around the edges of his smile as Joel plucks the blunt from his fingers. He must be exceptionally bored, she thinks, to have wrangled her into this, considering that they haven’t spoken to each other much for the majority of sophomore year. 

“I would say ladies’ first, but seeing as someone started without us, I’ll just give you the next hit, Cher.” She knows he’s serious, holding the smoldering blunt out to her pinched between thumb and forefinger, but she still scoffs. 

“I can’t do that, Joel. If my mom smelled that on me she’d– well, I can’t do that.” He squints, shrugs. And she hates how beautiful he looks when he takes a languid hit, the top buttons of his rumpled dress shirt undone to display how the long line of his neck trembles with the inhale, the puff of his chest, and then that smooth slump when he lets the smoke out. 

“Suit yourself. Tom, Maureen said she’d dance with you–” Tommy’s eyes light up, an exclamation already hanging from his parted lips, though Joel cuts him off with a prim finger pointed in the air.

“If you catch her early. So, you know, best get on with it.” Tommy nods hard, gulps a thank you to Joel, and is off like lightning around the side of the church and toward the reception. She raises her brow at Joel. Another shrug, smug.

“He asked me to talk to Maureen for him.”

“You didn’t talk to Maureen, did you?” 

“Nope, he’ll figure that out for himself though. You sure you don’t want some of this?” He takes another hit, hissing out smoke as if to punctuate his question. 

“No, and if that’s all you called me over here for then I think I’d rather be over at the–” 

“Oh, c’mon, Cher. We can just talk, huh? It’s better than all that bullshit anyways. Look–” With that, he flicks the half-smoked blunt into the grass, stamping it out with the sole of his shoe.

“See? All gone, now we can be civil and proper just like your mama wants us to be.” His smile spreads, and she can’t help her own, finally sighing and leaning back against the side of the church, turning her head on her shoulder to look at him.

“What’d you think of the service?” He snorts, kicking the toe of his shoe into the grass, his gelled hair – Deedee’s work, no doubt – flopping and falling into his eyes. 

“Thought it was long. And I thought the groom looked about ready to hoof it.” It feels good to laugh after sitting still for so long, a quick flutter of it in her chest.

“He was sweating so much. And the way he messed up his vows?” Ever the entertainer Joel immediately goes into character, his grin dissolving, brow pinching down and mouth pulling into an over the top frown as he wrings his hands in front of him, the perfect pantomime of fret.

“In, uh, in health– no, in sickness and in health until, uh– what was it again? Oh, death– until death do us part. A–fucking–men.” He concludes with a slap to his thigh and a big bark of laughter, his head tilting to the side as he grins at her own guffaw.

“You make fun now, but just wait until you’re up there at the altar one day. I’d pay money to see that trainwreck.” 

“Not very nice, Cherry. And also, bold of you to assume I’m even gonna get married.” 

“Oh please, Joel. At the very least, I’m sure Deedee will eventually stick you with some nice girl from the Kiwanis Club.” His whole face scrunches up at that, an indignant sound crawling up the back of his throat as he shakes his head at her.

“Nah, nope, no, ma’am. Reckon I’m not really the marrying type.”

“How can you say that? You don’t even have your driver’s license yet.”

“Uh, yes I do. I got it last week.” He’s already fumbling in his back pocket, movements a little fuzzed around the edges from his couple of hits as he procures his wallet and waves his fresh license in her face.

“Nice mugshot.” He tuts, tucking his wallet away.

“Always so mean. I bet you’ll be a sight at the altar one day, Cher. Gotta be careful not to shred your pretty white dress up with all that bite.” The word bite comes out with a flashy flare of his canines, a dramatic snap of his jaw that makes her snort.

“I won’t have to worry about that, thank you very much.”

“Oh no?”

“No, I’m never getting married.” She regrets it the instant she says it, even though she means it, already bracing for Joel’s mimicry.

“How can you say that? You don’t even have your driver’s license yet.” High and nasally, though he cuts himself off with an oof when she shoves him in the shoulder.

“I got mine two months ago, so there.” He sighs, shoving his hands deep in his pockets as he mirrors her stance, leaning back against the church with his shoulder brushing against hers.

“You really ain’t gonna get married, Cher?”

“Not if I can help it, you?” It must be the weed, she thinks, making his face fall and his eyes droop.

“Nah, it’d, uh, have to be someone real special to change my mind.”

…

“You think they’d notice if we sneaked off for a while?” She tries to keep her grin schooled, a hard task with Joel’s hands wandering down her hips, laying a squeeze to the swell of her thighs before skating back up, arms wrapping around her waist and pulling her back flush with his chest. 

“Hmm, the cake’s been cut, et cetera, et cetera. I think we could get away with it.” Joel hums, swaying her a little where they’re standing on their back porch, surveying their small but mighty reception. Ellie is dancing a clumsy waltz with Deedee, a few other family members around on the makeshift dance floor, everyone else talking in a haze of booze and sugar, slumped in their folding seats, napkins and plates stacked on the tables in front of them. And her and Joel are already slinking inside and up the steps. Giggling, entirely absurd, they don’t even make it to the bedroom, tangling and traipsing over each other into the bathroom, Joel kicking the door shut behind them as he crowds her up against the sink.

“Looked so beautiful today, I already tell you that?” Words humid and hotly murmured into her sternum, her laugh turns into a gasp when he noses up the column of her throat, teeth grazing that spot he so likes to grin into.

“You may have mentioned it. Not as pretty as you though, baby. All proper for me– oh, right there– waiting for me in your suit and tie.” Said suit and tie has long been shucked down to just his button-up and slacks, now untucked and rumpled, going lopsided with the way she fumbles down the first few buttons of his shirt. She can practically feel the heat flushing up his neck from her words, though Joel hides any bashfulness with a petulant smack to the side of her ass, quick to smooth when she jolts in his hold.

“Don’t tease, Cher, gotta be quick, huh? You gonna turn around for me and show me this pretty dress from the back?” The realization of just what that means settles in her mind, slanting her grin to the side as she shoves him back with a palm in the middle of his chest, for once, doing exactly as he asks and turning around to rest her palms on the counter. For posterity’s sake, she makes a show of it, arching her spine and spreading her stance a little wider, a little sway in her hips. She can’t help her snicker when Joel finally slides the satiny skirt of her dress up over her hips, his movements stuttering still as a quiet curse slips from his mouth.

“How— how long have you been like this?” She turns her gaze over her shoulder, maybe enjoying this too much in the slow bat of her lashes. Joel looks stricken, jaw slack and eyes wide.

“All day, baby, why do you ask?” 

“You’re telling me you walked down the aisle– in a house of God– like this?” She shrugs, leaning back into Joel’s palm that’s been idly palming her ass, her very bare ass. 

“Don’t tell Deedee.” His laugh comes out on a splutter, clearly unsure if he even should laugh in the first place, though she can’t help her own snort of amusement, soon the both of them dissolving into it, shoulders shaking and eyes crinkling up.

“You are trying to give me a fucking heart attack, goddamn.”

“Think of the lines, Joel, it would have ruined my outfit.” He just shakes his head, leaning over her to find a slanted kiss. And then the realization that yes, they still need to be quick about this, wedding guests downstairs and all that. A little bit of fumbling, and a preening sigh in the back of her throat when he drags the hot weight of his cock through the seam of her cunt.

“Who’s the freak now, huh, Cher?” She tries to laugh, but it’s more of a whine when his hips finally settle against the plush of her ass, so deep that she can’t help but lift up onto her toes, Joel holding her steady with a palm clutching at her breast.

“You’re the one that married the freak.”

“Damn right I did.” 

Not romantic at all. Quick, the lewd sound of skin slapping against skin with the way she bounces back to meet his thrusts. And no, not so young anymore, so it isn’t long before they’re both biting back moans, a small hit to hold them over before the guests leave. They slump down against each other in the aftermath, hazy smiles and breaths that try at laughs, Joel pressing his lips to the top of her shoulder, the side of her neck, her temple. 

“Love you, freak.” 

“You were the freak first, Miller.”

“I believe the correct response is love you too, actually.” Still framing her against the counter, his hand comes to rest over top of hers, fiddling a bit with the ring on her finger.

“Yeah, that too.” He scoffs rubbing his scruff against her cheek with the way he shakes his head at her. It’s annoying how quickly she folds for him, turning around in his hold, a shaky two-step to finally look at him. 

“You know I do, baby. I wouldn’t do this with anyone else.” She punctuates her words with a kiss, small and simple, feeling his hum beneath her palm on his chest. 

“Me too, Cherry. Only ever imagined it with you.” 

...........................................

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[jolalibrary]

Could we 👉👈 have some more comforting!Matt? Pretty plz

of course—i might be a little rusty with him so be kind. it has been a while hahah. but here’s 1.1k of matt somewhat being comforting.

matt murdock x f!reader (comfort edition)

He knew just from the way you entered, something was wrong. It clung to you—hanging from your tendons; the unspent emotions swirling with your perfume and the city's smoke.

Matt didn’t need to move from behind the desk and place his hands on your shoulders to feel how they’d sunk; didn’t need to hone in on your heartbeat to hear how dulled, and pitiful it was.

You were talking, forcibly and animated. Have been since you’d entered his door without knocking. Chattering on as if you weren’t upset out, all blackened at the ends from being burnt out from wearing a smile.

You did that a lot, he’d noticed—put on a front.

Whether for him, for Foggy or anyone else.

He hates it. Wishes he could rip it from you, ball it up and fling it across the city which makes you doubt yourself—which makes you think you aren’t good enough.

“—and I’m aware it’s a big ask, but—“

“Sit down.”

It leaves his mouth harsher than he intends. But, you’re panicking, bottling it all up. You’re one foot in a wet puddle from crying, he knows it. Can tell.

It nips at him, almost feeling it cuts. Which is why his words leave his lips, needing to keep you here, to calm you. The words, harsh as they were, blazing from a place within him he tries to bottle—the one which has a cap that never fits when it comes to you.

Because he’d do anything to rid you of your doubts.

Your words fizzle, practically dissolving on the tip of your tongue, followed shortly by the walls you’d thrown up before arriving.

They crack first, and then they crumble.

Apprehension ebbing at your edges, peeling at the withered parts you let him see.

“Please,” he adds.

It is so much softer than his initial two words. Almost brushes over you like a feather.

And then he slowly removes his glasses from his face, closing the arms before placing them on his desk.

He doesn’t touch the worn wood of his desk as he walks around it. The same desk which smells of alleyways and garbage bins when the heating is on.

The reason is that Matt doesn’t bother with pretend touches now you know his secrets. He doesn’t need to hide himself, you know all the sides of him. Even the thin line where he begins and Daredevil starts.

Yet, even so, you still hide from him. You’d rather suffer through a bad day and disguise your tears, than let him make you feel better—save you from your horrid thoughts.

Don’t need saving, Murdock. But, the city does.

Not realising the city includes you. He breathes, watches and waits for you. Finding nothing better, not even than winning a case, than being able to run his fingers up your sides and press a kiss to your temple, his sheets covering your skin—keeping you warm until he returns.

“Talk to me, please.”

He hears you shift. The chair you’ve promptly sat in letting out a soft squeak as you huff. “I mean… I was before you interrupted.”

The corners of his mouth twitch, even if he fights it. He folds his arms, slowly leaning against his desk. Legs spread, feet planted, giving his best neutral-lawyer-face, as you call it, waiting.

For what? He’s not sure. He never is. Sometimes it’s a list—hammered into the air, all never-ending and weighty. Sometimes it’s one singular thought, one revolving concern that you can’t shake on your own.

He doesn’t need to say it, but his eyes must because you sigh, again. The sigh you do when he calls you sweetheart and stops you from figuratively running from him.

“It would actually help if you can take on this c—“

“—What happened, who upset you?”

“—Murdock—“

“—I can’t help if you don’t let me in, sweet—“

“—Matt—“

“—heart. I can help. I want to help—“

“I fucked up, alright?”

You spit it.

And then he hears the tears balling up at the back of your throat. The ones which cling to your words. The ones which coat the walls in anger—as if they’ve been burning a hole in your tongue.

Knowing you, they has. Each letter of each word hitting the air with a purpose, piercing through it.

The thought and emotions behind them shifting, shaking and trembling the air around them.

He hears you inhale. One which fills your lungs and steadies your pulse—but does nothing for your hands, your bracelet softly tapping the arm of the chair.

“A-and, I let someone down, and now, I’m just trying to get through the day. OK? I just need to g-get through the next few hours, and I’ll b-be fine.”

Even shaky, the force you say the words hit his ears all wrong. The pitch shifting, volume jumping. All of them leaving your lips, your beautiful, soft, lips, when they shouldn’t even be thought.

Because you should do more than be fine. You deserve more.

It’s another thing he hates. That your mouth wraps around words like let down, disappointing and you can do better.

Because he’s not sure he ever could.

If anything, he didn’t deserve the patience, care and adoration you provide. The safety you bring and stability. But, even if he’s said them, brushing his fingers against your cheek, they don’t sink into the space between your ears.

Your need to make him feel better, to assure him you belonged here, with him, a greater need than believing him and taking the compliment.

It’s why he gravitated to you. It’s why he loved you.

It’s for that reason he knows there’s little point in speaking words you already know. So, he doesn’t. Instead, he bends down, almost into a squat before you.

He tilts his chin, focusing on where your face will be—seeing the hazy, burning embers of your head as he takes your hand. The one touched by the New York cold and the same one which runs through his hair when the night has been long.

Lifting your hand, he brings your knuckles to his lips, all softness and wild fig scented as he kisses them. He hears your heart skip, a soft jump—a little leap. So he unclenches your fingers, pressing your palm to his cheek. Not caring about the cold, just focusing on the way your fingers spread, clutching him.

“I’ll do it,” he says. “Take the case. Take the load from you. Of course, I will.”

And he hears your muscles sigh, before you actually do.

“But—“

“—Fuck—“

He smirks, still continuing as you swear in a whisper under your breath, “—you have to stay here for half an hour. With me. You don’t have to talk about it, but you have to be here.”

Your glare is warm, almost searingly so. He lets it touch each angle of his face, softly smiling as it does.

Knowing that it’s your weakness—him. You’d said it, all full of sleep, lashes heavy. You make me feel better by just being around, Matty. You never call him Matty. Only sleep-you does that.

Always Murdock, sometimes Matt.

“Because, sweetheart—“

He hears you scoff. Expecting a shake of your head and a roll of your eyes if he really tuned in.

“—I can’t let you go, just yet.”

Your glare softens. His hand reaches, ready to mirror your palm on his cheek, but he pauses to touch your chin, to feel the grin he’d expected to be there.

“You’re a very selfish man, Murdock.”

“It’s the catholicism.”

You lightly laugh, not a giggle and not a chuckle. “I’ll be okay…”

“I know that,” he says, lowering onto his knees, kneeling up as you part your legs. Not caring about the dust and carpet fibres getting on his trousers.

Just caring about you.

You and the world which keeps taking your smile, your laugh, and bits of your soul. His elbows resting on your trouser-covered knees, fingers stroking your jawline.

“It’s just a bad day.”

“Know that too,” he says, almost cockily.

But you don’t seem to mind, cause he feels you smile a little wider.

“I’ll stay here… for a while.”

“Thanks, sweetheart.”

[wildfloweroutlaw]

Compliant and Proud

~~~~~~~~

this is a part 2 to protective and proud that absolutely no one asked for.

pairing: arthur x female reader

warnings: smut, 18+, minors DNI, oral (both receiving), vaginal sex, honestly it’s giving service top.

a/n: baby’s first smut piece let’s go!!! I’m not entirely happy with this but I’m tired of editing it lmao.

word count: 2.9K

~~~~~~~~

Arthur began to tell you about the sheep escapade and you tried your best to listen, you really did. However, you found your mind wandering back to the events prior, his deep gravely tone, his arms caging you in, his brutality to everyone else but you, no never you. You had sucked down your whiskey and promptly ordered another one, taking a swig. You intently studied the drink, swirling it in your hand, finding anything to look at other than Arthur.

“Darlin’… you sure you’re okay?” Arthur examined your face, searching for any sign of distress. You were now acting totally different than how you had been before that little incident.

Arthur’s concern riddled voice brought you back to this realm. “Yeah Arthur I’m just fine”. Your eyes met his and you offered a smile, trying desperately to keep from making this weird.

“Look if ya want me to go make that fella apologize… or take him out back I’ll do it.” He reached over and placed his hand on your arm that was resting on the bar, giving it a gentle squeeze.

There it was again. Here he is talking about killing a man while comforting you. The contrast in his actions and words were like day and night. You had his undying love and loyalty and you knew it, and that did nothing to soothe the throbbing between your legs. “No, no. That’s okay, I didn’t pay him no mind”.

Arthur wasn’t buying it. He knew you better than anyone else, you had been friends for years and lovers for months. Something was off. “Well… what is it then?” He asked curiously, brow furrowed a bit.

Your gaze wandered back down to your drink. You couldn’t keep telling him nothing was wrong, he knows you too well. But you also weren’t quite sure how to tell him I find that fact that you’re willing to brutally murder someone simply for being disrespectful to me extremely arousing. You killed your drink, setting the glass back down on the bar and quickly turning to Arthur. Fuck it. You grabbed his face and smashed your lips against his.

Arthur was a bit taken aback at first. He wasn’t opposed to this but it did come out of seemingly no where. Though he quickly overcame his surprise and began to kiss you back rather passionately. His fingers found your waist band and he pulled you closer, enjoying the moment. He was sure the two of you were getting some looks, and he didn’t much care. He hoped that bastard from earlier was feasting his eyes on the sight.

Your hands roamed his chest freely, you had a small confidence boost from your friend whiskey. You wanted to beg him to take you across the street to the hotel, but you and Arthur had only been intimate that way a handful of times. The last thing you wanted was to scare him off.

Arthur was the first to break this kiss, leaning down to your ear, “Wanna get a room for the night?” His large hand came up to push a strand of hair out of your face.

You could only nod, excitement and nervousness and liquor coursed through your body.

Arthur paid your bill, leaving money on the counter, and grasped your hand to lead you through the crowded saloon. He caught the eye of the man from earlier and shot him a smug look.

Stepping out into the chilly night, you and Arthur made your way to the quaint hotel. You entered the cozy building and approached the man at the desk, “A room please?”

You watched as Arthur handed the man some cash and in exchange he gave Arthur a room key. You hastily grabbed Arthur by the arm and practically dragged him up the stairs, prompting Arthur to chuckle at you under his breath.

Once outside your room door, Arthur fiddled with the key in the lock and you took this as an opportunity to laden his neck with kisses. Arthur finally opened the door for you and you marched inside, shrugging off your jacket on the other side of the room and began working on pulling your boots off.

Arthur closed the door behind you two, but remained planted in front of it, arms crossed over his broad chest just studying you. “So what’s all this about y/n?”

You seized your movements, racking your thoughts for a moment before turning to face him. “I thought that part was obvious. I need you Arthur.” You tried to play it off as nonchalantly as possible, and you plop onto the edge of the bed, facing Arthur.

Arthur would be lying if he said that sentence didn’t stroke his ego more than it should. However, he was also looking for answers about your turn in behavior. “I know darlin’ and I’ll be more than happy to give ya what you’re after… after you tell me what’s got ya all riled up.” He studied you with a cool, unreadable gaze, he had mastered that.

You shifted on the bed a bit, leaning back. “Can’t I just think you’re good lookin’ Arthur?” You posed the question as innocently as you could whilst undoing the top few buttons of your shirt, eyes never leaving your cowboy’s.

Arthur began to slowly cross the room, “You could… but I don’t think that’s all.” He stopped directly in front of you, peering down.

You adverted your gaze to the window, taking a deep breath. “I just… I just find your willingness to do anything for me… attractive. That’s all.”

Arthur took a moment to consider your answer before reaching down to gently turn your gaze back to him. “See, now was that so hard?” He kneeled down in front of you, fingers slowly working on the rest of your blouse buttons, eyes boring holes into your soul.

“Course I’d do anything for ya angel….” He gently pulled your top from your body and went to work on the buttons of your pants. “I’d kill for ya…” he began to slowly inch your pants off of you, discarding them to the side. “Hell, I’d even die for ya if that’s what ya asked of me…” he pressed a few gentle kisses to the inside of your thighs.

You let out a small moan at the sight of Arthur on his knees before you, and the warm contact of his lips on your soft skin. You felt your face flush, and your heart speed up.

Arthur brought his calloused hands to rest on the outside of either of your thighs, thumbs tracing small circles. “What is it yer askin’ of me now darlin’?” He went back to work placing languid kisses on your thighs and just above your bloomers. All the while, his sea green eyes studied your face inquisitively, waiting for your answer.

You let out a deep sigh, battling your shyness. “Your mouth. May I have your mouth?” You nervously pulled your lip between your teeth.

“Course.” He hooked his fingers into the waistband of your bloomers and slid them off of you slowly, eyes falling to study your body.

“Wait- take your shirt off… please?” You weren’t quite used to having this much control in this scenario, this was all new to you. Any men you’ve been with before Arthur would have never allowed you to do anything of this sort.

Arthur chuckled at your timidness. Outside of the bedroom he’d seen you say and do bolder things than most, this was a drastic contrast from that you and he found it very endearing. “Yes ma’am.” He rose to his feet and began to undo his shirt buttons, pulling off the fabric and casting it into the pile your own clothes had found themselves in.

Your eyes drank in his form hungrily, shamelessly even. His chest was broad and muscular, covered by a dusting of dark hair that trailed down to his stomach. You can tell he’s lead a life of hard work, both his arms and shoulders large and powerful. This was a man who could easily kill you if he wanted to, but instead he has shown you nothing but tenderness since you met him.

Arthur returned to his position on his knees in front of you and he gently urged your legs apart. He leaned back a bit to take in the view, “So fuckin’ beautiful”.

You could feel his hot breath fanning against your heat, and you found yourself unable to look away as you watched him kiss everywhere but where you needed him most. Finally, he licked a gentle stripe up your middle, landing on the sensitive bundle of nerves and circling it just how you like. You let your head fall back in pleasure as you let out a heavy sigh.

From between your legs Arthur watched you with intrigue, he loved to observe you. You were like a real life piece of art in front of him, every curve and bend of your body was mesmerizing to him. And oh god, the noises he drew from you were enough to bring him to his knees if he wasn’t already on them. He let his hands roam up your stomach and around your back, unclasping your bra and letting it fall to the bed, never seizing his assault on your clit.

You were close already, it was almost embarrassing how quickly Arthur could manage to bring you to the edge. He was always good with his mouth, though the first time he was extremely bashful. All he ever wanted was to please you. You did your best to stifle a moan, not wanting to disturb other guests. “Arthur I-I’m gonna-“

Suddenly you felt him stop, his hands gripped your hips, lifting you slightly, and he began to rock you back and fourth onto his mouth, moaning into your cunt.

This man was just full of tricks apparently. You began to follow his motions and roll your hips against his tongue, fucking yourself on his face. His moans only urged you on, the vibrations going straight to your core. One of your hands found its way into Arthur’s hair, allowing you to control him entirely. “Yes Arthur you’re gonna make me-“ your sentence was cut short by a moan erupting from your throat, for a minute you weren’t even sure it was you who did it.

You rode out your high against Arthur’s mouth, his beard scratching ever so slightly against your thighs.

Arthur slowly brought his motions to a halt, rising to stand over you. His beard shone with your slick and a blush had crept up his neck. “Christ woman you’re gonna be the death of me.”

You could see his thick member straining against the denim of his jeans and you hastily reached forward to pull him towards you by his belt buckle. You made quick work of his belt, and started in on his buttons, you palmed him through his pants with your free hand. You eagerly yanked down his jeans along with his briefs, allowing his cock to spring free. Your timidness forgotten for the moment, you ran your tongue along the underside of his cock before taking him in your mouth. Your hand worked what you couldn’t fit and you reveled in the delicious sounds that echoed in the otherwise quiet room and the feeling of Arthur’s hands gently grasping your hair.

You pulled off of him slowly, opening your eyes to peer up at him. “Arthur please…”

He smoothed your hair lovingly, “please what sweetheart?”

Your hand rested flat against the front of his thigh, and you glanced down at that before forcing yourself to meet his eyes. “I need to feel you inside me.”

“Gonna have to be more specific than that darlin’… c’mon use your words for me”

Sometimes vocalizing your wants can be difficult, especially in the bedroom. “I… I want you on top.” You tried to deliver your line with confidence, not wanting to sound stupid.

“Your wish is my command angel.” Arthur’s lips returned to yours, quickly deepening the kiss. He gently guided your back to the bed, hands then wandering to your breasts, cupping the soft flesh and teasing your sensitive nipples.

You let your soft moans be swallowed up by Arthur, your arms wrapping around his neck and your fingers lacing through his hair.

Arthur brought a hand down between your legs to tenderly circle your clit. He broke the kiss to offer you his fingers, to which you gladly wrapped your lips around, pulling your own juices from them. “I always told ya ya taste sweet.” His hands found your knees and he pressed them outward towards the bed. “That’s it girl, spread ‘em wide for me.” His tone had stooped to that deep gravely pitch you love so.

You could have melted right then and there just from his words alone, but you obliged and did as he said. Arthur began to press kisses down your neck as he guided his cock up and down your folds. After what felt like and eternity, he ever so slowly pushed in to the hilt, to which you both let out a heavenly sigh. You found yourself gripping his back tightly, and you kept your face buried in the crook of his neck.

He gave you a minute to adjust before he slowly began rocking into you. Hooking an arm under one of your knees, he lifted it ever so slightly, finding a delicious angle. He strained to hold back moans himself.

You assault his collar bone and neck with sloppy kisses, enjoying the lovely stretch of his cock. “Arthur… can’t hear you.”

That was all it took for him to let out a deep groan and he quickened the pace of his thrusts. He let his hands grip your waist a bit tighter, as if he was afraid you’d slip through his fingers. “Is this what you wanted darlin’?” He sucked gently on the lobe of your ear.

Your nails dug into the flesh of his back, “Yes Arthur, fuck- you feel so good” words now tumbled freely from your kiss swollen lips.

“All ya had to do was ask, I’ll always give ya what ya need.” He propped himself up a bit to see you better. “Look at me…”

Your eyes locked on to his, your mouth slightly agape to allow the most lewd sounds to quietly slip between your lips.

“You stay right like that and I’ll make you cum angel.” He snaked a hand between your bodies, finding your swollen clit with ease. He kept his thrusts steady as he circled your bundle of nerves.

You were in pure ecstasy. Your back rising off the bed, nails scratching at Arthur’s back, toes curling and you fought to keep your moans as soft as possible.

Arthur watched you start to unravel all over again, savoring every second. “Can’t hear ya sweetheart.” He sped up his fingers, touching you in the most perfect way, his thick cock still stretching you out.

You finally stopped fighting, your sighs and soft moans snowballing into loud wails and cries. Your hands found their way into Arthur’s hair and you pulled his forehead down against yours.

“Those are some pretty sounds you’re making’ for me. My little songbird.”

You could feel the smugness in his voice but you just couldn’t bring yourself to care. His hips snapped in perfect rhythm against your own and you knew you couldn’t last much longer, but of course Arthur already knew this.

“There ya go darlin’…” Arthur was growing close himself, his moans filling the room alongside yours. “Ya take me so well, feel so damn good.”

Arthur’s praise was enough to send you tumbling off the edge. A second orgasm sunk its claws into you, possessing you to writhe under Arthur, biting down on his shoulder. A string of profanities left Arthur’s mouth as he once again helped you ride out your high.

Arthur’s eyes were blown out with lust and you met them with your own. “Cum for me Arthur…”, You reached up to close your hand around Arthur’s throat ever so slightly, “…please.”

This was all it took for Arthur to fold, his thrusts speeding up and becoming sloppy. His deep husky moans filled the room as he spilled his seed onto your stomach. His chest heaved against your own as he caught his breath.

“Hold still girl.” He rose to fetch a handkerchief and softly cleaned you up, peppering kisses to your face. “Think that was better than the 5 minutes that other fella was offering?” Arthur questioned as he settled in on his side of the bed.

“I’m gonna go with… most definitely.” You giggled as you made your way under the covers, snuggling into Arthur’s side.

Arthur chuckled along with you, wrapping an arm around you. “Jus’ wish he would have heard all that. Bet he wouldn’t be doubting why you’re with me then.”

You playfully swatted his chest and rolled your eyes. “Well I’m certainly not with you because you’re humble.” You nuzzled your face into the crook of Arthur’s neck, arm tossed across his torso and leg slung across his own. You listened as the vibrations of a chuckle shook his chest and how his breaths grew slower and slower.

Just as you were drifting off you felt Arthur’s lips against your forehead. “Love ya angel.” He pulled you impossibly close to him before allowing himself to be carried off to sleep.

[questioningwriter]

(I'm not dead, I promise! But I did recently start my job, which has sporadic hours, so I haven't had time to write. But I finally got this finished and I wanted to post it, because I promised it weeks ago. Hopefully the next one will come sooner.)

Edit: I'm an idiot, who forgot to link everything. Fixed it.

Morally Grey Pt 3

Part 1 Part 2

TW: Imprisonment, obsessive behavior, Mentioned no-con drugging

The press was having a field day with this, Superhero mused as he stood at the podium, the other hero's standing behind him. It wasn't necessary, but none of them knew that.

“-I can assure you, we will find Villain, and put him back where he belongs.” Superhero finished addressing the media, but before any of the hero's could leave, there was a shout at the back of the crowd.

"You liar!" Everyone turned to the shout, and there were screams as Other Villain burst from the crowd, gun in hand. "I know you did something! What did you do with Villain?"

"I can assure you that I have no idea what you are talking about." Superhero said smoothly. "I had nothing to do with Villain's disappearance."

"Bullshit!" Other Villain yelled. "You were the last person to see him. You were the one who he was going to meet, I know it! Where is he?"

Superhero stepped back and his team came to flank him. "For the last time, I had nothing to do with Villain's disappearance!"

"Then how did you know?" Other Villain snarled. "How did you know that Villain was missing?"

"...Because the prison called us about their disappearance?" Superhero said. "And it's all over the news? The whole reason we have to have his press conference in the first place?"

Other Villain floundered, which gave the officers time to sneak up behind them. But before they could be caught, Other Villain blasted them back with his power, then turned to Superhero. "I'll prove you were the one who did something to Villain!" He pointed his weapon at Superhero. "I swear it!"

With a dramatic swirl of his cape, he was gone. Superhero turned to his team. "Get everyone to safety." He ordered. "I'll start putting out the feelers to find both Villain and Other Villain. It's more important now than ever to figure out where they went."

The team did as he asked. Superhero watched them proudly for a moment before turning and leaving. Such obedient puppets.

He quickly changed out of his hero costume in the back room, then left. On the way home, he made several calls and made sure his spies in Villain's organization were ready to fake his Villain's death. He contemplated taking out Other Villain at the same time. Make it look like the two were working together, and something went wrong.

Arriving at his house cut off his thought process. Pulling into the garage, he got out and went inside his house. Looking around, he walked to the basement door. Unlocking all six of the locks on the door, Superhero went downstairs.

When Superhero had purchased the house, he found that the former owner had converted the basement into an apartment, complete with it's own bathroom, so that someone could rent the room, and the previous owner could have a second income coming in from the tenant. Over the years, Superhero had had no need for it, so it had been left to gather dust.

Until today.

His guest stood from his place on the bed as Superhero entered.

"Where the fuck am I?" Villain snarled. "What did you do?"

~

"Villain, sweetheart." Superhero said happily, as if they were discussing the weather. "I'm glad to see you're awake. How are are you feeling? Did the drug give you a headache?"

Villain glared at his lover. "Don't pull that bullshit with me." He snapped. "Where the hell am I? What the fuck did you do?"

Superhero's smile waned. "Villain, why don't we sit down to discuss this?" He said.

"No." Villain backed away from Superhero's reaching hands. "Don't touch me. And, while you're at it, let me go."

Superhero sighed. "Sweetheart." He soothed. "Please just listen to me. Aren't you even a little bit curious as to why I did this?"

Villain hesitated. Truth be told, he was a little curious as to what drove the crime-fighter to this point. They broke their own moral code by kidnapping Villain. He was curious as to lovers enemies motives.

"Alright, I'll bite." Villain sat back down. "Why am I here?"

"It's simple." Superhero sat down next to his ex-partner. “Because of our last conversation as lovers.” He answered. “You told me it was either you or them-”

“-and if you picked them, I would never see you again, at least not in the sense of lovers.” Villain cut him off. “What does that have to do with you kidnapping me?” 

“Well. I made my choice.” Superhero took Villain's jaw in a bruising grip. “I choose option three.” 

"Did you know that the same day you escaped prison, a hospital exploded?" Superhero asked. "Unfortunately, a lot of people died that day. It was a tragic accident, but I saw a way to spin it to my favor."

"I planted signs that you were behind it. Little things, like your symbol painted on a still-standing part of the building. camera footage placing you there, a few hours before the explosion happens. All things that sign your metaphorical death warrant.

Throughout Superhero's speech, Villain's face had gotten paler and paler until it was almost completely white. "You're a monster." He breathed.

"The other heroes think you blew up the hospital." Superhero continued like Villain hadn't spoken. "You are not safe anywhere beyond this house. I have made sure of that." 

Villain's face was drained of color. "You're crazy." He whispered. 

 "Crazy in love with you." Superhero joked, but quickly grew serious. “Villain, I am only trying to give us both what we want - each other. I love you, more than anything, and I want to be with you.” He reached out and took his boyfriend's hand. “You gave me an impossible choice the last time we were together. Either I choose you, or I choose my team.” 

“I remember.” Angel said tersely.

“I knew I could not abandon my team.” Superhero continued like he had not spoken. “They needed me, and so did the public.” He reached up to cup Villain's cheek. “But I need you.” Superhero pulled his hands back. “And the world doesn’t need you like I do.” 

Villain’s eyes widened. Jumping from the bed, be backed away. “No, I will not be caged.” He snarled. “I won’t let you keep me here.” 

“I don’t expect you to.” Superhero told him. “What I expect is for you to fight. I expect escape attempts. I’m even expecting you to try to kill me.” I leaned forward. “None of which you can do without your power.” 

His eyes narrowed. “You can’t steal my power. It’s impossible.” 

“No.” Superhero admitted, “but I can block it.” 

Villain didn't have the chance to run before Superhero was lunging to grab him. Getting ahold of the criminal, Superhero injected him with a sedative, and Villain blacked out.

`

Villain woke up to weakness. Weakness so strong it was hard to move. And an emptiness where his powers usually were. It was an effort to lift his head to meet his captors eyes. 

"Villain.” Superhero spoke calmly, like he was talking to a wild animal. “Villain, sweetheart, can you hear me?” 

“Fuck you.” Villain slurred. Superhero’s gaze hardened. Villain thought that the hero was going to hit him, but he just turned away.

"The weakness will wear off soon." He said. "Unfortunately, I could not prevent it from happening completely, but I was able to decrease its effects." He messed with something out of Villain's vision. "This apartment is fully furnished, and has everything you will need to survive." He smiled at me. "You'll be safe here."

"If by safe, you mean trapped here as your prisoner, then yeah, I'm totally safe." Villain snapped, fighting to stand. "Guess what, Supes, I'm not going to stay here complacently, I'm going to fight this with everything I have in me. And when I strike, it will leave you crumpled in the dust." 

Superhero laughed. "Good luck." He left, leaving him in his prison.

[riggedtraps]

Mandy Writes #1

trigger warning for: self harm, semi-graphic description, burning using a cigarette & a lighter, r slur, f slur, internalised homophobia & ableism, don't read this if you struggle with any of this i don't want anyone to be triggered

content warning: mandy smokes a cigarette then burns herself. third person pov (she/her). haven't edited this/re-read it.

The smoke curled around her lungs in an uncomfortably comfortable way, a mini tornado swirling in her chest as it wreaked havoc on her breathing. Ash weighed her down so much that, for a few moments, she believed she could sink right down through the Earth and burrow herself underground. Six feet, preferably.

She was scared. A long time ago, she'd done it before—but not with a cigarette. With a lighter.

She couldn't remember it, but she remembered that it must have been a warm sensation singing all her arm hairs off, and she remembered that it must have been good because she hadn't stopped for quite some time. It was curiousity that lured her in that time. Right now, she wanted the pain to quieten her mind.

Hands shaking, she held the cigarette beside her arm. It was terrifying but she wasn’t sure why. She'd burnt herself on hot glue before, then scraped it off—alongside a few layers of skin. That was easy. Fun, even. So why was this so hard?

She just had to take the leap.

It was a predictable yet delicious sting as she pressed the cigarette's ash to her arm. The shock of it caused her to jerk her hand back, the remainder of the ash hitting the dirt underneath her feet. Wiping off the muck from her arm, she could see a soft pink mark.

She wanted—needed—more.

Again, again. More, more. The pain soon receded and it was like a sort of experiment to her. How many burns could she resist? Too many. She would have gone farther, but the cigarette was burning close to her finger. Not brave enough to put it out on her pretty pink mark, she took a final, long drag, enjoying the lightheadedness that came with oxygen deprivation, and then stubbed the cig out under her chunky boots.

When she looked down again, there was no more pretty pink mark. Instead, there was an ugly, gutclenching blister filled with yellow pus.

Panic roared through her for a few moments. Her first burn and it was already infected. Was she stupid? Fucking retarded? She knew it was wrong to use that disgusting word on herself, but it was true. Fucking fag couldn't take a fucking fag, either.

Slowly, the worry subsided. It was done with now, there was nothing she could do. Telling someone was not an option. Seeing a doctor was not an option. She would have to see what'd happen, keep a close eye on the ugly mess she'd created.

She did it to herself.

[blacksupremacy86]

American Model Edition Love Listing

At a fan event Stephen Amell waves to his many fans in the crowd, I hid in the sea of annoying people.

Biding my time till some loud idiot calls him over for a picture I follow to the bathroom afterwards.

I snuck behind him matching his every step back to him slipping into the shadows with excitement.

He pops the door open slip in checking to see if anybody is in the room he peeks right under the stalls.

He smirks heading to the urinal placing his hand on his belt he undoes it, and slipping it through the hook.

Unzips it zipper, pulling his hands down to shove his jeans and went to his underwear the urine flows.

“Finally! Here is my opportunity” a cool voice is heard.

“Who’s there?” Stephen calls out then to see no one is their.

“Wait! Woah! Uuuuuhhhhhh”

“No stop! Please “

“SHUT THE FUCK UP!”

“Ok Sorry!”

The ghostly spirit crackled with laughter in the air swirling from wall to wall bouncing.

It ricochets loudly hitting his head hard as he shook it out unfortunately my hands place on him.

I undo his buttons on his shirt slipping him out of his shirt he lets it spread open and I smile with glee.

I turn in to airy like motion my body hits his chest sliding down the smooth surface of his body.

I crawl down pushing past his cock split in to two half’s one cracks up his penis and the other up his ass.

“Aaaahhhhhh! Oh Get Out! Quit It”

“What the fuck are you doing?” Robbie asks.

“Hey cousin”

“Hey Stephen, what’s up?”

“Taking a break from the frenzy”

“I’ll help you !”

“Huh! Cuz”

Robbie so freaked out as Stephen took a step forward reaching for his shirt collar lift him up.

I wrap his arms over Robbie bringing Gil of face me head on and I lean in to kissing him on the lips.

I begin to make out with him heavily and in very Intense way of kissing him as we fall so deep in to each other.

“No! Stop we are cousins”

“I am not Stephan”

“This is his body but it’s my soul”

“It’s not wrong as long as I say so”

“Let me go”

“Why should I release you?”

“I - I”

“You are hard”

“You don’t want me to end this because you are turned on”

YAWN I wake up stretching my shorts arms in to the bed freaking out at my sight in the mirror.

“OH MY GOD”

“Who am I?”

“Colton Haynes”

“How did this happen?”

“The same way you possessed us.”

I sat up in my bed with the two guys kneels at either side of the bed holding on to my hands.

“We love your Master”

“Worship actually”

“You are all we won’t”

“You are all we need”

“You live for me”

“Sir Yes Sir”

“My love”

“You are our man”

“Our God”

“Our everything”

“Our existence

The end

[knockyasocksoff2022]

Take My Hand, Let Me Save You Like You Save Me | Soukoku

Based on Heaven and Back by Chase Atlantic. 

Angst but then fluff. I'm not that familiar with Corruption and how it works so please correct me if I get anything wrong. This is set before Soukoku start dating.

Words: 4,194

⚠️TW: drugs, drug use, and almost drug overdose | Dazai typical suicidal thoughts, attempted suicide, and depression.

NOT PROOFREAD (no beta we die like Oda)

(A/N: This is way more angsty than I intended but there is more fluff in later chapters. Under the cut due to length. This has been edited for grammar. At the point I was writing this I didn’t know that No Longer Human is always active so we’re just going to ignore that little fact. Also, the logic behind Corruption is nowhere to be found. I was a very new fan when I wrote this.)

Dazai’s Perspective

Mori's office is filled with every kind of lethal pill imaginable, and I just had to grab a non-lethal one, a hallucinogenic one, I think. I was crying at the time, my eyes blurring at the edges until the fog spread and the tears spilled over.

Now my eyes blur for a different reason, visions of bright, flashing colours and mangled corpses dance in and out of my view. I can't take this, it's not working, I need more.

I dump a few more pills into my palm (3 maybe 7, I can't tell) and swallow them with the stolen whiskey. It tastes bitter, an acidic burn, fire, but I'm flying and I love it. The pain distracts me from everything else and the light feeling is a bliss I never thought I'd ever get to feel.

I stand up (fall down? I can't tell which direction is which.) and notice for the first time, the fluorescents of the warehouse. Gosh, they're beautiful. They should be in a museum not in this dingy warehouse. Who would bother buying lights this nice for a place like this? Then again Mori is like super crazy rich. I tilt my head and they move with me, incredible! I spin, and so do they, making swirls across the grey beams. I wish Chuuya were here to see this. Chuuya makes everything better. He'll be so upset that he missed this.

Suddenly the swirls are taking over my thoughts, I can only think in spirals and my brain feels like it's being rolled up into the spirals. It doesn't feel . . . bad? Anything's better than the pain, I guess? My stomach lurches, being pulled into the spiral as well, and I vomit neon green and pink onto the warehouse floor. It's beautiful and then gone. Then back again, then gone, taking the floor with it. I hear a distant thud and the lights feel farther away.

Pain pounds in my head as the lights come back. This time they're blurred, black eating at the edges. I watch, entranced, as the black and the lights fight. I can't decide who I want to win, they're both so beautiful. The black is winning and I am falling, falling, falling (but wasn't I already down), slipping deeper. Does it feel bad? I don't know. I can't feel anything. Is that a bad thing? Isn't this what I wanted?

Yes. I've always wanted this. Even numbness is better than the pain, and if this is how I get it then I'd gladly do it again. This is what I've been looking for, something I'm not even sure I could get from death: the feeling of already being gone, like I'm no longer human, a machine, a monster. It's not nearly death but I'll take it.

I hear a voice drifting in and out but it sinks to the bottom of my black ocean, along with any remaining fight I had left in me.

Chuuya’s Perspective

Where is he? Where is that shitty bastard? He said he would be home tonight. But that look on his face. I knew he was lying.

"Why the fuck did you let him go, dumbass!" I think to myself. I thought privacy would be a good idea but now it doesn't matter, I have to get to him before he hurts himself.

When I turn the corner, I hear soft sobbing and heavy breathing coming from the warehouse. I know it's him and I dash inside.

He lies curled up in a corner, eyes rolled back in his head, not himself, like when I use Corruption.

"Dazai! Wake up!" no answer, "Wake up, shitty Dazai, wake up."

His corpse-like person stays the same but he's still breathing, he has to be.

"Dammit!!!" He still doesn't stir, panic, turning to pure terror as it claws up my throat, combined with hot anger I feel like I'm about to combust. "No, fuck you! How could you do this?" I ask the unresponsive boy, the words turn to please as they leave my mouth. Desperation now joins the swirl of emotions, "I loved you, I love you! And you go and leave me like this! What about me? What about me, huh? Are you just gonna leave me like this?" I punch him, "Answer me, asshole, I said answer me!"

But at this point, I can see it's useless. His corpse is still, with no breath rising or falling from his still-warm body. The tears come suddenly and I let myself lay over my dead partner, friend (more than friend?). I cry for him, and his situation, and his death, and for what we could've been. I wanted it, oh how I wanted him to return my feelings but it all feels so stupid now, now I just want him alive.

I don't care if they find me like this, draped over the boy I love (and will love until the day I die, even after), I hope they do. Someone deserves to pay. The anger pulses back again, stronger. White hot rage, blacking out my vision. Arahabaki. The Rage only lasts for a second then I'm back, the feeling gone again.

I feel something inside me break.

If Corruption is activating while I'm touching Dazai, then he really is dead. It hits me in the stomach, worse than any punch from an enemy. I should be worried but I don't care if I destroy everything. I don't care if I destroy myself. I don't want to live without Dazai Osamu and I deserve whatever I get for leaving him alone like this. I promised I promised he wouldn't die alone, and yet here I am, doing too little too late as I guess we always knew I would. The one mistake I can't take back.

I try to summon it back, the Rage. I want to hit something, I want to hit myself until I can't anymore. But a noise distracts me, wheezing, then choked breaths. Dazai struggles to sit. A gasp leaves my lips. He's alive, undeniably so, but how. It's been at least 5 minutes.

I can feel his heartbeat, slightly too fast but strong, in his chest, and his breathing the same. Did I . . . bring him back? No, Arahabaki did. For the first time, real gratitude for the god surges in me but I have to focus on Dazai now.

He opens his brown eyes, they're wide with surprise and wet with tears. But not the deep and curious look that only I know, dull and sad. I'll take anything.

He gets up, seemingly perfectly fine, just sad. He sits back down, head between his knees, hands covering his eyes but I can see his shoulder skating with the silent sobs. Distraught. I can't take him in pain like this. My body moves before I can think about what I'm doing.

I hold out my hand.

He doesn't take it.

"Please." it comes out too desperate, "please" I try again softer. He lifts his arms and nods, grasping my hand. The connection makes me feel safer than I ever have. "Let me help you," He's still looking down. "Like you've helped me so many times."

"You don't owe me." is all he says

"I do, but that's not why I'm doing this. I'm doing it because I'm human and so are you, I want to help you and . . ." I swallow the lump in my throat, "I care about you, more than you'll ever know."

This makes him look up, our eyes lock, a thousand words unspoken. "Now please, let me save you like, you save me"

He stands up and I don't really know what to do so I put my hands around his waist, an awkward kind of hug, my palms feel hot. Soon we're fully embracing each other. Dazai letting me support his weight, support him. I want him to see things how I do so faster than I can talk myself out of it I hold him tighter and let myself float a metre above the ground.

We stay there for a while.

Then Dazai whispers something into my chest, the words a soft vibration, like a cat's purr.

"Hmm?"

"I said, the city looks beautiful from up here."

The words leave my mouth without my permission, "Most deadly things look pretty."

He smiles an actual smile. It hides itself beneath a neutral expression quickly but I know it was there and I'd do anything to see it again.

"You look beautiful up here," he whispers, I don't think he meant for me to hear but I'm so close to him that it's impossible not to, the quieter. "Chuuya always looks beautiful"

I feel myself blushing, my heart skipping a beat and picking up again in double time.

All of a sudden the warehouse feels too small so I fly up to the roof. Dazai's eyes widen in surprise and he holds me tighter, bandaged arms snugly around my waist. I try to ignore the feeling in my stomach and focus on the roof.

It's different. I've never flown with someone else before and I thought I would have to remind myself to be gentle but adjusting and softening my movements for Dazai comes easily to me, an unconscious action.

I touch down on the roof and the wind swirls around us, playing with Dazai's hair in a beautiful way. I watch it tangle around for a moment before snapping out of it. I could stare longer if I wanted to. Dazai has his back to me, staring out at the city. Almost on the edge.

I follow his gaze to an empty green lot, overgrown with only a small warehouse.

"That lot has been empty forever," he says in a monotone

"Yeah, I don't think it's Mori's."

"They tried to sell it a while ago," the slightest tint of emotion enters his voice, but I can't identify it, "but no one wanted to buy it."

"I can see why. I'd probably be more trouble to fix up than it's worth."

"I think it's a nice place." The emotion is unmistakable now: longing. "Private, nobody pays attention to it, no super close neighbors, quiet, but you can see the whole city from the roof." Longing for a home, a place to settle, a place to be his answer when someone asks where he's from, where he belongs. I know because I want these things too.

"You've been there?"

"I used to hide out there."

There's silence, we're still speaking, just not with words. He tells me with the way he steps closer to the ledge.

"Yeah, it could be pretty nice. I bet someone will buy it, some super-rich real estate person, and then sell it." I feel Dazai's shoulders slump as I finish the sentence. I want to say sorry but I'm not sure what for, or what to start with because I have so many things to say sorry for.

"Before I joined, it was my place, the closest thing to a home that I had. Now I live here of course but I–"

"I get it. You don't want it going to just anyone." He gives me a small smile for my understanding, but he's almost off the ledge now. I won't let him go again. I won't.

I grab his waist and pull him away from the ledge, back to me. Close, close, closer until we can feel each other's heartbeats.

Music echoes from the distance, a street party. It seems to grow louder, and so does my heartbeat. The first move is mine, the next is his and before we know it we're moving to it together, gliding, spinning, twisting, not in synchronisation, but the movements seem to all fit together. Dancing. I'm dancing with Dazai Osamu and my heart soars.

It feels like I'm floating and then I realise, we are. I've taken us up, just above the floor of the roof. We dance up here uncaring free, the feelings running wild even if only for one night. I let myself go higher, the feeling in my chest unravelling and releasing the tension as we move together.

This feeling: raw, pure, intense, and wholly human. Puts me on a high, grounding me at the same time. And maybe humans don't feel this passionately, maybe I'm not human, but if being inhuman allows me to feel like this if it allowed me to save the love of my life, it can't be so bad.

Dazai’s Perspective

It's a habit at this point. Constantly pushing further even after I've gone way past way too far just because fuck it. Stepping closer to the ledge, farther from life until all I can see is the ground below. It wouldn't even be jumping, just falling. The smallest shift of my body weight forward, a motion nobody would even notice until it's already too late. Another step.

You might wonder, Wouldn't I miss Chuuya? If I'm dead I can't miss anyone. If I could miss him though, I would, but it doesn't matter. He'll be fine. He might have saved me but I know he doesn't care about me the way I would like him to. It's obvious, he hates me but I still can't let him go. It'd be better for all of us if I just fell.

He'll find another partner, move on, and forget all about me, be the youngest living Port Mafia executive. He'd like that. I start to lean forward a bit. Arms grab my waist, strong, warm, and secure. He pulls me closer, and closer and closer until there's no space left. I still want to be closer.

Pop music begins to blast from a few streets over, loud and clear from up here. The lights of the city seem to dance in time to the music and Chuuya looks as stunning as ever, wind tousled red hair and blue eyes bright with emotion . . . humanity.

He's everything I don't want, everything I know I'll never have. And that just makes me want him all the more. I don't want his humanity or his emotion for myself, I want him to want me with all of himself. I want him to love me with all of his searing passion until I burn from the inside out.

I said Chuuya would be the death of me but I didn't say it with malice. I would love for him to end. For him to take my life away with the sheer force of our contradicting personalities. Death by his hand would be . . . perfect.

The brutal conclusion to a brutal life.

Suddenly I'm knocked off my feet, or not knocked, but rather the ground disappears from under me, but I'm not falling, I'm floating.

Chuuya.

It's my instinct to hold on tighter to Chuuya but that would only make things more awkward so I let go. I expect to fall but I don't stay where I am. Ah, Chuuya must be controlling my gravity field. I don't mind, not at all.

He catches my hand, a look of pure exhilaration on his face, and I use the rebound to spin him away, catching him again. His touch cancels out everything else as if he's the one with the nulling ability. This is better than any drug, the pain is no more. All I can feel is Chuuya. He feels good, better than. I know I may never get to do this again so tonight I dance with Chuuya. I allow myself to get as close as I want to. He doesn't protest.

He may not love me in that way (but he must have at least some affection for me or he would never be letting me do this), but I know that as long as I have Chuuya I can live with myself.

Chuuya’s Perspective

It feels like we could've danced forever but eventually, we end up on the edge of the roof. Not like last time, nothing like last time. This time Dazai sits in my lap, (which I'll admit is a bit awkward because of the um *cough* height difference *cough* Hey, shut up, inner Dazai voice!), and shockingly he makes an effort to curl up smaller to fit better. My heartbeat accelerates, sending warm tremors through my chest. His touch does to me, the opposite of what his ability does to me. I wish he knew what he does to me.

I feel him shift closer. What the hell is happening? Who is this and where's shitty-bastard Dazai?

Dazai’s Perspective 

Dancing with Chuuya fills me with a feeling I don't recognise, but it burns, and I like it. The burn is different from the acid burn that the whiskey provided, it's slower and deeper, starting from the points where Chuuya touches me but then consuming me from the inside out. This burn isn't acid, it's a pure holy fire, like Chuuya himself. I'm sure I could manage without it, but why would I want to, it wouldn't really be living. I'm tired of this half-living I've been doing and I wish I'd realised sooner but now that I have this I know there's no chance I'm ever letting him go again.

It's difficult because Chuuya's just so small but I manoeuvre myself even closer, soaking up his fiery warmth and leaning in until the city noise disappears and his heartbeat and breathing are the only things I hear.

I can feel my shoulders tensing, waiting, wanting. Wanting him to lean down and kiss me. His fire gives me a nervous feeling and the heat is so distracting that I can't form the words.

Instead, I tilt my head up pathetically and hope he notices me for once.

Chuuya’s Perspective

I’m sure the Yokohama skyline is beautiful tonight but I can’t take my eyes off Dazai, I don’t really want to either. The wind picks up and ruffles his soft brown hair, giving me the irresistible urge to pull my finger through it. With how close we are it’s probably okay. Then he looks up.

I close my eyes.

I wish he didn’t. It makes me want to punch him sometimes (that’s usually why I do punch him), the way he flirts so shamelessly with everyone, no matter the gender, he just loves to flirt (and then break hopeful hearts), so much so that anyone could tell it’s an act, not even to mock them but just for his own amusement. Damn him! I usually would punch him right about now but I could never hurt him when he’s like this.

I open my eyes, accepting my fate, willing myself to resist.

His eyes are full of something deep and mysterious, yes, but it’s his lips that hold my attention. The way they’re slightly parted, if I didn’t know better I’d say he was doing this on purpose but I do know better and this oblivious idiot has no idea what he’s doing. If I didn’t know better I’d say the look in his eyes is want.

His lips look so soft, I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve dreamt of kissing them. And now he wants me to. I’m not sure. But I can’t stop myself.

I have to lean down to him for once as I press my lips to his. Immediately a tingling sensation hits me, scalding at first then pleasantly warm. And, oh. I was right, his lips are soft and warm.

Then panic shoots through me. I open my eyes to see Dazai's own eyes wide in surprise, I know the horror will come next. Have I just ruined everything? What should I say, how can I even explain this?  The dread wells inside me, turning me to stone.

“I—” My throat is the first to go and the words die on my tongue.

And then he’s kissing me back.

It’s different now that he’s kissing me as well. His lips are still soft but more solid and forceful. This time he presses his body into mine until we’re held together so tightly it feels like we’re one now, instead of two.

The hardest thing about kissing Dazai is stopping, but at last, we do.

“Dazai . . .” There are no words that adequately describe the experience.

He sighs, “Please, use my given name.” I freeze, “Call me Osamu.”

“Osamu,” I whisper into the night, testing out the word. It feels right, leaving a pleasant sensation on my lips. The memory of where his own lips had just touched mine. Pulsing desire.

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do this,” I say to the night around us. It feels good to get the words out.

His smile is brighter than any of the lights around, “That goes for me as well.”

The music from the street below is still playing, but quieter now as if everything has faded out leaving only Osamu and I.

It’s so nice that we let the confessions and feelings hang in the air for a while as the sky slips from dark blue to black and the feelings get brighter . . . hotter.

It happens so easily, as if we’ve been doing this for years (we should have been), our lips are connected again pressing feverishly, hungrily against each other. Osamu’s hands are in my hair, pulling, but not so hard it hurts.

When we stop for breath I tug away the bandages covering Osamu’s neck and begin to explore.

——————————

We lay on the roof, the music long quieted, staring up at the full moon. The bandages on Osamu’s neck hang loosely like a necklace, both of our hair sticks up and Osamu is using my coat as a blanket against the nighttime chill.

—

When the moon finally begins to slip away I ask, “Are we going to talk about this?”

“About what?” Osamu asks. I look at him confused. He smiles, “We’ve been in love all this time, what will change now that the words have been said. It isn’t like we’ll be able to be affectionate at work.” He explains all this matter of factory then smirks, “After work on the other hand . . .” He lets the implications fill my mind. I shove my hat over his eyes.

“Perv!”

“You asked, I was just answering!” He laughs and takes off the hat holding up too high for me to reach. I don’t try to reach it, he puts it down over his face.

“You know that’s not what I meant! I just mean like kissing not . . .” I hope he can’t see my blush from this angle.

“I know, of course, teasing Chuuya is just so fun. But we can kiss as much as Chuuya wants.” I don’t miss how he uses my name instead of one of his many nicknames, and he said nothing would change. I don’t mention it.

The truth is we’ve been partners for so long hardly anything needs to be said.

And yet, I want to say it, to hear his answer.

It still feels kind of awkward, the words cumbersome as I try to phrase the question, “So . . . Boyfriends then?”

Osamu doesn’t answer right away, then sighs, “Boyfriends.” He says the word in a bored tone, a smile like gold lights his face, “I don’t want Chuuya to be my boyfriend, I love Chuuya so much more than a boyfriend. Boyfriend is such an impermanent word. There has to be a better one, no?”

His words make me feel cool inside, like how people say love makes them feel warm. Osamu’s love makes me feel cool and refreshed, like the relief when he uses his ability on me, a pleasant tingling sensation. Like Osamu’s own cold touch. It’s distracting and I can’t answer him.

Luckily he has an answer of his own. “Partners.” He says with finality.

“Partners.” I agree.

—

We don’t speak again until the sun appears on the horizon.

“I want you to promise me something, Chuuya.”

I look at him surprised by the suddenness of his request.

“I want to annoy you forever, so . . . promise you’ll remind me to live okay, for you.”

His words make me freeze. Dazai Osamu, the boy obsessed with death, wants to live. The cool feeling washes over me again.

He sits up and moves closer to me until we’re shoulder to shoulder with his hand our my waist. “I want to, I do but sometimes it’s hard. The darkness takes over and I forget everything I have to live for, when that happens, please remind me, okay Chuuya.” He looks at me like a lost puppy, tears brimming over, a little bit happy and a little bit sad, I think. “And I can’t promise that it will work, or that I’ll make it, but with you, I know I can at least try, and I will try, so hard, for you Chuuya, my beloved.”

“Okay, Osamu. I will.”

We seal the pact with a kiss and watch the sunrise together. It isn’t a bad way to spend a night, not bad at all. Now we enter the new day together, as partners.