#I KNOW ITS THAT LITTLE BASTARD HE HES BEING COY

[zorritocruzado]

Kima clocking the Exarch two minutes into Shadowbringers like-

[retroaria]

SOMEONES JEALOUS!

summary: (Sakura, Suō, Kaji) when they’re jealous seeing you with another guy!

WIND BREAKER M.LIST | enjoy 🥀 -aria

ᡣ𐭩 ᡣ𐭩 ᡣ𐭩 ᡣ𐭩 ᡣ𐭩 ᡣ𐭩 ᡣ𐭩 ᡣ𐭩 ᡣ𐭩 ᡣ𐭩 ᡣ𐭩 ᡣ𐭩 ᡣ𐭩 ᡣ𐭩 ᡣ𐭩 ᡣ𐭩 ᡣ𐭩 ᡣ𐭩 ᡣ𐭩

Sakuras jealousy is a recurring issue. Once you’re his and he’s accepted that fact, he hates when anyone else gets more attention from you than he does. It makes him question everything, feels like he’s having a mid life crisis.

He sometimes get jealous of the way you interact with the other Bofurin boys as well. Is afraid you might think one of them is nicer than him, or that they could protect you better than he could. you constantly have to reassure him, which makes him feel even worse.

If he sees someone actively flirting with you right in front of him, he goes into fight or flight mode

Acts like you’re about to be murdered and his only way to save you is obnoxiously interjecting himself in the convo. “hahaha right MY PARTNER is soooo cool! you guys friends? Never heard of you before hahaha strange.” “Hey BABE, you seem to be having a lot of fun over here…WITHOUT ME.” The guy would just awkwardly walk away lol

Once he’s gone Sakura goes back to normal and tries to act like what he just did wasn’t borderline insane. “What do you mean? I was just talking to you how I always do.” Yeah suuuuure.

Just make sure he knows you love him and no one else. Appreciates when you include him in convos with strangers while you two are out, hates being left out of the loop.

Ren definitely feels like you are the light of his life, his sunshine on a cloudy day, the only pure thing about him, keeping him sane and at bay. Deep down he’s terrified that you’ll find someone more gentle than he is, someone less angry and tense all the time. So when something threatens to take you away, he gets rather aggressive

He prefers if you don’t see him that way. So anytime someone seems to be a little too flirty, or trying to get a little too close to you, he stalks his pray and waits it out. Once the interaction is over (you obviously rejected them), he’ll wait until you leave, head off to the bathroom, or just aren’t paying attention to shoot them the most devious glance imaginable.

Eyes of a killer as he bites down hard, cracking the candy in his mouth. sending them a signal of what might happen to them if they don’t back off. If you aren’t around, “you shouldn’t go for someone so far out of your league” “back off”.

Suo doesn’t tend to get jealous. He’s got you whipped (just as much as you have him) and he knows it. A confident king.

On the rare occasion he does feel threatened by another man, it’s usually by someone of his same stature, coy and nonchalant. It almost makes his blood boil to see someone teasing you the way he does just to see that cute flustered face.

Thinks its disrespectful for other men to bother you when they should already see how fruitless it is. In his head, someone like you is surely taken. (Though he still finds it hard to believe that he was the one who was able to take you)

He’s likes to let it go on for a little, wanting to see what tactics the guy might employ. He also wants to see the look on this persons face when they are inevitably rejected by you.

If they keep pestering you even after you’ve declined their advances, Suo will step in. “Hey darling, do you need my help here?” “How bold of you to assume you’d have a chance.” (He’s saying all of this with the most devious smile on his face, probably giggling too. Cheeky bastard.)

[pettyprocrastination]

Taste Test

Pairing: Line Cook!Simon Riley x Line Cook!Fem!Reader

Summary: Simon is warned by his manager about the dangers of a workplace romance. You are asked for your opinion on seasoning.

Warnings: profanity and smoking.

Wordcount: 1.3k

Note: take this silly little thing as an apology for my utter lack of activity lately I'm so sorry yall! Made simon a linecook as a little joke au but now its kinda stuck in my head and not leaving lmao. Big thank you to @madhyanas @thesadvampire and @yeehaw-djarin for being my beta readers and editors for this story! I smooch you all <3

__________________

Simon had just finished plating his sixth steak of the night when the manager, Elise, a woman with twitching hands and cold eyes, pokes her head into the kitchen and barks his name. 

“My office.” 

The others snicker and bump shoulders like schoolboys, calling out a jested “fuck did you do this time, Riley?” that he doesn’t bother answering with words so much as a choice hand gesture thrown into the air before he ducks under the door frame and disappears down the hall. 

“You want to tell me what I’m getting chewed out for?” Simon rasps as he tucks his hands into the front pocket of his apron, scarred fingers curling around the carton of cigarettes tucked within it. 

Elise’s office is hardly bigger than the pantry, just large enough for a rickety desk piled with bills and a chair with a threadbare cushion that was all but pressed flat. 

“I’m not reprimanding you, Simon.” 

“Is that so?” 

“Think of what I’m about to say as-” Elise tilts her head, flashing him a smile that doesn’t reach her eyes. “A preventive measure.” 

Simon fishes out a lighter from his back pocket as she continues. She doesn’t have the energy to tell him to stop.

“What do you think of the new hire?” 

Truthfully, nothing.

You don’t talk much outside of work. While the other cooks are content to crack jokes and tell stories of their weekend to one another as they prepare meals, you have no such social connection to anybody within the kitchen. The only moments Simon had even heard your voice was the rushed announcement of your position behind somebody or when coming around the corner. 

“She’s fine.” He takes a slow drag of his cigarette and exhales, smoke curling from his lips as he speaks. “Does her job and doesn’t bitch like the others.”

“She’s more than fine.” Elise motions to a stapled pack of paper on her desk. 

 “Kid went to culinary school, trained under some big fucking names and even worked at some five-star joints before coming here. All her previous employers say she’s a hard worker who picks up shifts and doesn’t cause trouble.” 

She picks up the paper and points it towards the six foot four cook hunched in her doorway.

“Which is exactly why I’m telling you now that she is off-fucking-limits to you.” 

Simon bites down on his cigarette. “S’cuse me?” 

“Don’t play coy, Riley. You’re far too fucking grown to pretend you don’t know what you do.” 

He does know. Simon is more than aware of the past flings he’s had with multiple servers, none of which have ended on a positive note and all of which resulted in a souring work environment until they up and quit - leaving front of house understaffed until the next poor bastard walked through the door asking about the Help Wanted sign hung outside. 

But the blame can’t be on him entirely, that is. Each doe-eyed waitress entered a fling with the cook knowing good and well what his intentions were, because he had no issue with saying it right to their face. 

‘I’m not looking for a relationship.’ 

Simon is a blunt man. He tells people what he wants because in a world full of dragging feet and double entendres, he values efficiency and honesty above all else. 

“Listen, I’ve never stopped you from dipping your hand in the cookie jar before, but this?” She waves your resume in front of him again. “This right here? Off-limits. If you run this poor girl out and leave us understaffed for the Sunday rush I will fucking gut you myself, Simon.” 

It’s only been a week and a half since you’ve started working with them. Part of him wants to laugh at Elise’s exasperated accusation. That somehow, in the midst of chaotic shifts where several customers complain and a few bar patrons get rowdy enough for him to have to drag them out by the collar, he’d be able to find the fucking time to learn your goddamn name, let alone sweettalk his way between your legs. 

But then he remembers the muffled laugh you hid in your sleeve yesterday when listening to the dishwasher crack jokes during the lunch rush and how you tap the side of your apron in a constant rhythm when looking for something within the kitchen. Simon interrupts his own thoughts and frowns, mildly surprised about just how much he noticed of you from the corner of his eye during the daily lunch rush. Had Elise said nothing, he wouldn’t have cast a second glance in your direction. But now?

“Simon! Are you listening?” 

She may have just cursed herself. 

“Yeah-” He stamps his cigarette out on the ceramic tray on her desk, offering her a dry clip of his voice before turning on his heel. “No fucking the new cook until we find coverage, got it.” 

Simon narrowly avoids a stapler being thrown in his direction before ducking out of her office and back into the kitchen where his coworker grins at him from the sink. 

“So? She fire your dumbass yet?” 

Across the kitchen, you cut onions with a flicking wrist that never ceased movement, brows furrowed and mumbling to yourself. 

Simon hums. 

You’re quite pretty. 

“Not yet.” He rumbles. “She likes my smile too much.” 

You spare Simon a glance as he settles back into his work station next to you before you resume cutting. He notices there’s a scar on your bottom lip, a little sliver of raised skin that goes from the bottom of your chin to the swell of your lower lip. 

“Hey.” 

His voice shakes you from your focus, hands freezing as you turn to look at him, lightly craning your neck to meet his eyes. 

Simon holds out a spoon to you, the other scarred hand hovering beneath to keep it from spilling. 

“Mind giving your opinion? Can’t tell if it needs more garlic.”

There’s a moment where your brows cinch together and you look at him with caution, as if to sniff out any sort of deceit within his offer before you mumble, “Yeah, yeah, okay,” and lean forward. 

There’s no need for him to feed you. You’re a fully grown woman who could take the spoon from his hand with no issue, but Simon finds himself guiding it to your mouth and letting his other hand tuck under your chin in an affectionate gesture far too intimate for the back kitchen of a local restaurant. 

Simon is sure that Elise has cursed him too. He hadn’t given you a second glance or a spare thought since your first day. But now, he watches your eyes flutter shut as you hum at his cooking. 

“Good?” he asks. 

Your tongue darts out to catch a stray droplet of sauce on your lower lip. “Good.” Your lips purse like you have something more to say and you raise your hand, pinching your pointer finger to your thumb in a universal gesture. 

“Could use just a bit more garlic though.” 

There’s a brief moment after you speak where panic fills your eyes as Simon says nothing. Frantic thoughts fill your brain, wondering if that was some sort of test for the new hire that you had failed due to your own personal tastes until the man that towers over you nods. 

“More garlic.” He echoes. With a short nod of his head, he turns back to his station without another word. 

Simon doesn’t speak to you again for the rest of your shift yet at times during the night, where an unexpected pause takes over the kitchen for a brief but appreciated moment of silence, you feel his gaze on the back of your neck. 

When the time of the night comes to hang up your apron and slip through the backdoor, he joins you without a word. A large looming shadow walking in step with your own, unexpected but not unwelcome. He bids you a rasped “ ‘Night” before turning to his car as you unlock your own, offering him a mimic of his words before you drive home. 

You notice in the reflection of your rear view mirror that he doesn’t leave the parking lot right away. But rather chose to wait until you do to finally depart. 

[sin-sidejob]

Give me jealous possessive JR/Andre/Gigi/Robotus or give me DEATH

Inside Job — Jealous

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, Minors DNI, canon adherent material from a mature show, jealousy, possessiveness, semi public sex, exhibition, etc

Content: bossy, bitchy, deep-state employees. When they feel jealous or insecure about others giving them attention in a way they don't really care for. Some are more dramatic and others suaver, also some more bitchy.

A/N: my, my, bossy aren’t we? Headcanons below for JR Scheimpough, Andre Lee, Gigi Thompson, and Robotus Alpha Beta, enjoy!

Robotus Alpha Beta:

- hates feeling emotions and hates feeling jealous even more, looming around like your sulky, petty, violent shadow who glares at everyone who gives you a once-over

- AB hates humanity but he’s learning to tolerate it through first hand experience and exposure, via the coworkers, and love it through you. That doesn’t mean that he’s not eager to snap a spine like a Ticonderoga #2 pencil.

- there’s one moment in particular where you actually got the first glimpse of him getting jealous, a holiday party when someone gets in a little to close and starts complimenting the fabric of your jacket while rolling it between their fingers. Before you can even say anything, you feel a weight all too familiar coil around your waist and warmth press against your back, lips leaning down to press at your temple while eyes glowing a bit ominously are locked upon the person before you, some poor bastard from accounting.

- “forgive me for interrupting,” Alpha Beta drawls suave and calm, sizing the person up from behind you knowing you could handle everything yourself, but enjoying the moment of being able to show off what’s his and his alone, “I just wanted to rejoin my dearest’s side. Quite immaculate, aren’t they?” He doesn’t waste time listening to the shaky response from the person before you and rather seems content just staring at you, focusing on your presence and spotting you glance up at him with a coy smile hidden behind the lip of your drink.

- You don't even look at the person in front of you, not interested in the slightest meanwhile AB is staring them down with a small, earnest little smirk until they leave, lurking behind like your personal, protective shadow.

- "Can I grab you a refill?" He asks, noting your now empty drink as he moves out from behind you and before you, taking you in as you lean against the unoccupied side of the bar, grinning up at him with a proud yet amused smirk. "What's the look for?"

- "Oh nothing," you drawl, smiling all the while and unable to wipe it off your face as you stare up at him, noting his hand still on your waist, "just finding your possessive streak endearing."

- "Endearing, huh?" Alpha-beta mirrors, leaning in a bit closer and making your head tilt up a tad as he watches your eyes lower to peer up at him beneath thick lashes, "Seeing you act all protective and domineering, possessive, its cute." Alpha-beta arches a brow, taking in your expression idly. "Cute? I'm not cute - I'm a homicidal machine bent on destroying humanity."

- "The only thing you've been destroying lately is me," you talk over and ignore his guffaw, enjoying the petulant scoff, "and its former homicidal machine bent on destroying humanity, now you just kill for fun. That makes it a pastime."

- "It doesn't. You know damn well that's incorrect." He immediately buts back, eyes half-lidded but still unable to give up his need to be right, "Oh I do, it's just funnier to get you all pent up, you fuck harder that way."

- "I'm getting you another drink and the second you finish it, I'm taking you home and you won't leave the house until Monday on legs so shaky its as if you're impersonating a newborn deer."

- "You've never been hotter." You tease and kiss his cheek as he takes your glass while passing by you, grabbing you a refill of your drink of choice and standing with his back to you at the bar, smiling up at the mirror that allows him to see you staring right at him from behind.

- He has no worry about losing you to another, knowing you well enough by now, but any little what-if gets clouded over by how you look at him, even when you think he can't see. Alpha-Beta adds it to the files, under that folder of reminders of how much you love him when he needs to remind himself.

JR Scheimpough:

- he’s whiny and pathetic — and you love him for it, the way he’s just a little bit of a bitch — but there are some things he just won’t stand for, like seeing others try and take what’s his. Including you. That man’s backbone has never been more prominent than in those moments, and he uses all of those well crafted aspects of speech and persuasion he’s accumulated over the years, and will indeed pick apart whoever it is with words until they’re nothing but bones.

- JR has a tendency to show you off, have you at his side and brag and boast about you and your talents, accomplishments, personality, and more. He doesn’t wield you like a trophy or a prize but rather pays tribute to you and presents you forth in front of others to illustrate just how much of a catch you are, and just how taken he is with you.

- so when a former colleague eyes you up and starts to lean in, JR abandons his conversation suavely and swiftly in order to weave through people to reach you. He slinks nearby, melting into crowds and peoples shadows while watching as this person tries to get closer to you. The moment he does see red is when their hand tries to touch you and you brush it away, stepping back, but they try to force their hands onto your waist.

- “There you are darling,” he spots the flicker in your eyes, noting the relief in your body and the way you immediately lean into him when he comes up, “was just talking about you to some coworkers over there then realized I had lost you — oh!” JR turns and addresses the person before the both of you, doing that salesman grin and extending his hand. “Hello, I didn’t recognize you for a second, it’s been a while, hasn’t it?” JR segways brilliantly, an arm wrapped around your waist low and comfortable and he feels you press at his side, seeking him out and he wishes he came around sooner or just hung around you the whole night.

- the two stare each other down as JR shakes their hand, smiling in a grin that seems earnest yet as fake as the pristine demeanors and character junior league women have with their pearls and prejudice. “Pleasure to see you — lovely partner you’ve got, how long have you two been together? You can wink if you want out.” They chide, nodding at you and mocking your very real relationship, and both JR’s grip on your waist tightens as does your grip on the back of his jacket, gut already at a low and continuing to plummet the longer you’re around the person before you.

- “For a while now, several years actually.” JR responds first, nodding down to you and catching your eye, getting a small yet truly earnest smile out of you, him matching before glowering at the person before you. “Our anniversaries in about a month or so.” He adds, patting your waist affectionately in a blatant look what you’ll never get to touch moment.

- “Oh congratulations then, best of luck you two.” They say before departing, disappearing into the crowd and you breathe an audible sigh of relief which JR feels responsible for, smoothing his hand over your rib cage and kissing at your temple, “M’sorry I wasn’t here, wish I could off that fucker.”

- “there’s always the assassination button.” You muse idly, letting him hold you close and smiling against his lips when he leans in to kiss you, eagerly meeting his touch and wrapping an arm around his neck to lace over his shoulder, lingering as he makes all the occupants in the room disappear, just him and you in a moment.

- “have I mentioned how much I love you and the way you think?” JR jokes, squeezing at your side and eliciting a little chirp he grins against, mouth ghosting over yours in a blatant, overly intimate display of affection. You shake your head, blinking at him beneath lashes and he watches as your grin forms, the hand at his back splaying across his shoulder while the other plays with the hair at the nape of his neck, sending a shudder rolling through his spine all the way down to the tailbone.

- “you may have said something, but I’m more than open to hearing more from you, if that’s quite alright Mr. Scheimpough?” Teasing, you slide the hand over his shoulder and to rest on his chest to tug at his tie, feeling him melt under your touch and his body turning to moldable clay, ready for the heat of your touch to break him or make him. “There’s nothing I’d like more.” JR breathes, hand in hand as he lets you lead him out the building towards home, or more likely, the back of the car.

Gigi Thompson:

- you think she’s gotten to where she is while letting insecurities bloom? No way. But she will cut a bitch should they touch what’s hers. Gigi doesn’t like feeling lesser than anyone, and she knows she isn’t, she’s incredible at her job and immensely talented, creative, cunning, and drop dead gorgeous. It’s why she holds you so highly in respect with how you’re all that and more. Which is why she’s the only one who gets to have you.

- The two of you had went out, finally managing a date night after a series of cancelled plans from work hijinks and shenanigans, finding yourselves at a club and hidden away in corners and booths all to your lonesome, Gigi working her magic to get you into all the hottest and most lucrative places. You had finished your glass and saw she was about to finish hers, offering to head to the bar to get refills and kissing her in a brief little see you later kiss, feeling her gloss transfer and glitter slide upon your mouth. She thinks it’s a look.

- upon making your way to the bar, you skirt through bodies of people and finally make it, waiting for the bartender to make their way through and finally reach you. You reorder Gigi’s drink and get some ice water for yourself, feeling a bit hot in the packed room. While waiting on Gigi’s drink, you sip away at your own and lean against the bar, throwing Gigi a wink from across the floor which she rolls her eyes at, smiling regardless and sending her own back.

- Gigi’s drink takes a while, one of the liquor bottles empty and another bartender needs to step away and pull out a bottle from the back. You wave a hand, smiling and assuring it’s fine, giving basic courtesy. Now sitting at the bar, you pull out your phone and respond to a few texts idly, looking up when someone talks to you, an “Excuse me?” makes you Loft your head up to find someone standing beside you, looking at you expectantly.

- “Hello?” You offer, brows furrowed and eyes squinted, confused and a bit irritated already. “Oh — you didn’t hear me then. I just asked what your name was.” You just stare, dead into this poor fuck’s soul and blink, sipping at your drink. Refusing to speak, you just glare and wait for them to leave you be so you can grab your girlfriends drink and return to her side. “Okay, so no to that then.” They trail off, sitting beside you and ignoring the blatant hints you keep dropping about wanting to be left the fuck alone.

- “So, what brings you here?” Comes their latest attempt at prodding you to speak more, their head tilted and mouth smiling, assuming you’ll give in and just tell them all about yourself. Fuck that. “Damn, what’s got you all bent out of shape? Here to nurse a breakup or some shit?” Your eyes lower to slits, glaring harshly ahead at the mirrored reflection of the bar towards the persons head, wishing you could make their skull explode with your mind.

- at another silence, they seem to get fed up, growing irritated and irate. “Oh c’mon, how stuck up are you?” Your eye twitches. “Can’t even respond—“ They’re cut off, and you feel a familiar weight lay across your shoulder and Gigi’s perfume meets your nose. You grin at the bastard across from you, knowing his fate has now been decided by a much more merciless and cutthroat person than yourself.

- “Can’t you even take a hint, with your pathetic nosy ass trying to play twenty questions with a taken person.” Gigi drawls, nails drumming against your shoulder and you peer up at her, pressing a kiss to her cheek as she pauses for the drama of it all — god you love this woman. “Move on, you waste of actual air and space, before I shove my fresh manicure down your throat and extricate that useless spine of yours and make it a backscratcher.”

- as expected, they leave, rapidly in fact and abandoning a wallet you loot and steal the ID from, passing it to Gigi who places a call to get the shithead disappeared. She sits and takes their seat at the bar, her purse and your things in hand as she places a hand on your thigh comfortingly, thumb rolling circles and shapes into you. “You okay?” She asks softly, meeting your eyes and you smile, patting her hand and squeezing it once, twice. “I’m fine, and besides, it was fun watching you. Look so hot doing that.”

- Gigi beams, laughing as she rests her elbow against the bar, cheek in her palm as she stares at you, her other hand on your thigh still and tracing shapes idly, just glad to be close to you and keep you close. “It’s better than when you let me grab drinks, you knocked some random fucker out last time.” She starts, smirking at your sudden frustration that she evokes. “Hey! You know that dim-dicked motherfucker deserved it — and how was I supposed to know his cheek couldn’t handle my fist through it.”

- you’re about to justify your actions when Gigi’s drink is finally poured before you both, slid into her awaiting hands and you lose track of thought once you see her take it in hand and the slow drag of her throat as she swallows a sip, the print of her lipstick against the glass. “Fuck — what was I saying.” You burst out, brows furrowed again in honest confusion and she laughs, squeezing your thigh, and you realize you honestly couldn’t care less.

Andre Lee:

- there’s two sides to the jealousy, proudly watching as you dismiss people and their attempts at sweeping you off your feet and pointing to him wherever he is with an earnest grin and wave, him waving back being fully assured that you’re his and his alone.

- there’s the additional side that’s possessive as hell and knows you’re a catch, and Andre’s insecure and doesn’t want to lose one of the best things that’ve ever happened to him. So the second he can, he pulls you aside to fuck you like a jackrabbit in the nearest room and make sure whichever person — or people — that were interested get to hear you cry out for him as he brings you to the brink of orgasm over and over, the only one getting to see you like that and taste so good on his lips.

- Andre’s in the middle of conversing with Gigi and Brett across the room and see some little shit try and slide up while you’re alone, watching as your smile grows awkward and eyes scan for him, then secure on the person before you as you scoff at something and close down your body language. Your back straightens and eyes dim to leers as you stare down the person before you, and Andre’s already biting his lip while Brett catches he’s not paying attention, turning his head to his line of sight and clueing in Gigi, who both roll her eyes and smiles while taking a sip of her cosmo.

- “Go on and save them before they break that bitches neck,” Gigi suggests, smiling and promoting Brett to nod along, smiling too. Andre just shakes his head a fraction, a small grin of his own on as he finishes the end of his drink, tossing out the cup before nodding his head in your general direction.

- “But where’s the fun in that — just wait a sec’ then they’ll ditch ‘em. That’s when I come in.” Andre muses, already excited and thrumming for what’s to happen next, the routine so constant he’s nearly blessed with a Pavlovian response in how he knows what’s to occur soon. He can practically taste you on his lips anyhow, and he’s jittery, like a wound up toy aching to be let go to putter around.

- and they all watch as, sure enough, you send the poor bastard with their tail tucked between their legs and scurrying away, ego and pride demolished in your presence as you brandish a evil little smirk and swipe your lips across the edge of your glass and finish it. Andre rolls his sleeves with an equally evil little giggle before he approaches, watching as you lick up a stray drop from your beverage away as it lingered at the bottom of your lip, turning to him with a pouty mouth and lidded, heady eyes.

- “and there you are.” You marvel, adjusting so he can sit at the bar stool beside you and lean in close, placing a brief, take peck at your lips that you cast aside in efforts to bite at his mouth, letting him taste your drink off your tongue. “Julep?”

- “close, was a mojito.” You chime, nose nudging his in a disgustingly cute manner before you lean back, lips glossed now in his spit. He loves how it looks on you. “Nice try though.” You murmur, sparing him a glance as you fish out bills from your wallet and pay your shared tab, smacking his hand away when he tries to pay — you nearly growl and he tries so hard not to laugh.

- as you paid, Andre turns and locks eyes with the fucker that tried to talk you up and flips him off with a cheery, eat shit smile before you can turn around. He feigns nonchalance but you see through it anyhow, shoving your receipt in the bag and taking his hand before walking out to the exit hall and quickly drag him into the bathrooms — slinking in and dragging him by his tie as you step backwards so he presses you against the sink.

- Andre helps you up, mouthing at your jaw as you paw and nudge at his belt, managing to unbuckle it as his slide your own bottoms down and underwear too, teasing you with eager hands as you moan out, head angled and resting against the mirror. He works quickly, shucking his pants down to his mid thighs where they bunch so he can fuck his fist then grind against you, sending your belly clenching and hips swiveling, eager for friction.

- and if that poor bastard happened to try and use the restroom, peek in just a fraction, they’d see Andre jackhammering into you and his bright, devilish smirk meet their eyes in the mirror reflection. His form covered the expanse of yours, keeping you covered but leaving your face exposed, eyes wide shut as you cry his name and praise him and his skill over and over, turning into a puddle from his ministrations and sending the bastard running — Andre considers it a win.

[blondeboyfriend]

𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐘 𝐒𝐎𝐅𝐓 (𝟏𝟖+)

𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐎𝐑𝐒 𝐃𝐍𝐈

[ PAIRING ] Zeke Yeager x reader [ AUTHOR'S NOTE ] Yes, the title is ripped from a Mitski song. She said the song "...is about hurt people finding each other, and using sex to make sense of their pain." And I was like oh fuck yeah, let me bastardize this for my fic. Needless to say this is very self-indulgent. Not beta'd. (repost) [ SYNOPSIS ] You and Zeke are stressed beyond belief and seek relief. idk it's pwp, okay! [ WORD COUNT ] 2.9k [ CONTENT ] Modern AU, sub!reader, body specific!reader (y/n is marginally shorter than Zeke but still tall-coded, and is implied to be on the thinner side), mean!Zeke (and soft!Zeke), POV shifts, idealized D/s relationship, brat taming, sadomasochism, impact play (slapping), degradation (use of slut), humiliation, spit play, oral sex (m and f receiving), deep throating, facefucking, throatfucking, hair pulling, nipple play, dumbification (you just get fucked dumb, not teased for it), aftercare.

Life had been getting the best of you.

Stress pervaded it, cursing you with sweaty palms and little bouts of aggression. Work sucked ass. Sleep was more elusive than ever. And your blonde boyfriend, Zeke, seemed tinged with distance. Despite all this you managed to keep yourself relatively together. You only dropped the facade at home, the one place you were free to be as huffy as needed. Usually it was a cure all, but over time the perceived charm of your snide comments and clinginess wore thin. Your rituals bored you, made you feel worse. Your brattiness became oppressive and sucked the air out of the room. Its playfulness replaced with genuine derision. What should have been a mundane night on the couch watching television ended up wrought with tension.

“Is there any particular reason why you’re acting like this?” Zeke asked as you twirled a lock of his hair between your fingers.

Playing coy crossed your mind, but you decided to articulate your anxieties.

You sighed and briefly gathered your thoughts. “I’m mentally exhausted. Everyone at work is so annoying, but I know that’s only because I’m perpetually irritated regardless of the situation. They could be telling me I did an incredible job and I’ll feel myself wanting to lose my shit. And,” you hesitated. “I feel a little, uh, neglected.”

He frowned.

“Well that’s no good.”

You pulled on the flaxen tendril between your fingers.

“No shit,” you seethed.

He glanced over at you, little daggers dancing from his grey gaze.

“You do realize that’s no way to get what you want.”

“Then why does it work like 90% of the time?”

“I’d argue it’s 80%.”

You crawled into his lap and straddled him, planting your knees next to his hips. He cocked an eyebrow and looked over your shoulder at the television. You placed your hand under his chin and gripped it, forcing him to look directly at you.

“I know you’re just as stressed as me.”

“Your point being?” He questioned in a sing-song voice.

You clenched your jaw.

“Don’t you wanna let go? It’s been so long since we indulged.”

Zeke’s eyes softened and a tiny grin crossed his face. You had a point. He couldn’t remember the last time he “put you in your place.” Lately it seemed as if he forged a suit of patience, or rather what you would deride as indifference. He had recently taken on a managerial role at work, wrangling a gaggle of employees. And while Zeke had a knack for exercising power over people, it wasn’t something he was fond of. It was enervating if anything.

“Is that a yes?” You asked.

His hand found itself on the back of your head, softly patting it.

“What kind of man would I be if I denied a pretty, little thing like you?”

“The worst kin—”

His grip tightened around your hair, taking you by surprise.

“Get on the floor, slut, before I make you.”

“What if I want you to make me?”

He glanced over your shoulder making sure there wasn’t anything behind you. He used his foot to move the coffee table out of the way before shoving you off of him. Your body collided against the carpeted floor with a muted thump. He got up off the couch and looked down at your crumpled form.

“Get up,” he ordered, kicking one of your long legs.

You narrowed your eyes.

“No,” you sneered.

You looked up at him. There was nothing you loved more than his body towering over yours. It was such a rarity considering he wasn’t that much taller than you.

“Are you really going to make me repeat myself?”

“You fuckin’ know it.”

Zeke grabbed you by the hair and started dragging you towards the bedroom. The carpet met your back as your shirt ran up. It scraped along your spine, the friction marring your skin. The pain left you kicking your legs which helped him drag you down the hall. This game was always a team effort. As he made his pilgrimage to your bedroom every slight tug felt like needles penetrating your tender scalp. You winced as your skin waxed and waned in a flurry of ardor and agony. The stress was already melting away.

“Is this what you wanted?” He asked, letting go of your hair.

You sat slumped over by the door in a dollish heap. His fist left your hair a tattered mess. Thankfully combing it out was a task Zeke was more than happy to take on. Once you both had your fill of sadistic debauchery, he became fixated on putting you back together.

“I guess,” you murmured.

“You guess?”

You raised your voice. “I know you can do better… Or are you not man enough?”

“If you’re trying to piss me off, you’re failing miserably.”

Zeke squatted down in front of you and spit in your face, right between the eyes. His saliva was warm and tobacco-tained. You went to wipe it away as it dripped down the bridge of your nose.

“Leave it,” he said as he stood up.

“Hmph.” You pouted and let your hand fall to your side.

“Get up,” he demanded.

“That’snot very convincing.”

Zeke picked you up with hesitation, tossing you over his shoulder. You squirmed around, refusing to go down without a fight. It did little to deter him. His iron will was truly something to behold. Once you were in the bedroom he set you down upright. He stared at you like you were nothing more than a lamb being taken to the slaughter.

“A slut like you doesn’t need clothes. Take them off.”

“No,” you said defiantly. “Not gonna happen.”

His rough hand grazed your skin as he grabbed ahold of your face. His palm rested under your chin while his callused fingers squished your cheeks.

“Do you think this behavior is charming? Clever?”

You nodded smugly.

“It’s idiotic and banal. If you keep it up, I’m going to replace you.”

Usually Zeke winced after saying something so cruel, but this time he refrained. He had grown into his role, becoming more comfortable with it. But he was still plagued with a sense of guilt when he uttered those words. You were irreplaceable and he was certain you knew that.

“C’mon. Don’t you want to make me happy?”

You attempted to annoy him with a garbled, “Pathetic.”

Zeke gave you a swift slap across the face. A stinging sensation radiated throughout your cheek like a shockwave. He never raised his voice nor showed any anger when bringing you to heel. You were instead blessed with cruel and casual indifference.

You pulled down your unbearably short sleep shorts and underwear, stepping out of them. Next was your shirt. You pulled it off and tossed it to the side. You stood in front of Zeke, completely at his will.

He swallowed hard at the sight of your supple form. His eyes lingered on your legs, easily his favorite part of your body. He liked having them over his shoulders while he filled your cunt with his cum.

“Kneel. Now.”

You did as you were told. Your snarkiness had transformed into desperate compliance. You wanted nothing more than to feel the weight of his hand and earn his praise. You wanted every inch of your skin to sing, to be speckled with purple splotches and bite marks.

“Open your mouth.”

“Make me,” you mumbled. It was the death rattle of your brattiness.

Zeke was more than happy to do so. He unzipped his jeans and pulled his thick cock out. The tip was pink and pearly with precum. He pushed it past your lips with ease. Resisting him had lost all fun; you made room for his cock to fill your mouth. Though instead of sliding it in gently, he was forceful. You nearly choked as his tip grazed the back of your throat. His rough hand met the back of your head and held you there. Drool pooled and trickled out from the corners of your mouth. You looked up at him and were met with his indifferent, grey gaze. He gripped your hair and began to thrust in and out of your mouth. You breathed through your nose, trying to avoid asphyxiating on his length.

“Look who’s pathetic now,” he said, slapping you once more.

You did look rather pathetic kneeling nude in front of a fully clothed man. But there was something freeing in the vulnerability you presented to Zeke.

“You like being used, don’t you?”

It was a rhetorical question. Zeke knew you were in no position to garble out an answer. Still you wished you could tell him that you did like being used. Nothing made you throb more than him reducing you to a mere fucktoy. Though words could likely never articulate how grandiose your desire was.

“Disgusting brat,” he growled as you used his thighs to brace yourself. “You’re lucky I let you touch me.”

Hearing those words made your cunt swell with ardor. You squeezed your thighs together, hoping the friction would soothe your aching clit. Fluids flowed from your folds and slipped between your ass cheeks. His soft pubes tickled your nose as he held your face flush to his crotch.

Zeke loved defiling your mouth, how you struggled to keep his cock inside. Your resolve drove him wild. He used his rough palm to push you off of him. He grabbed you by the face and forced you to peer up at him.

“Beg for it,” he said before smacking your cheek.

“Please,” you whined while wincing.

“Please what?”

“Can I please suck your cock?”

“Why should I let you? Convince me. Now.”

“Because you can do whatever you want to me.”

He laughed. “I shouldn’t be surprised that a slut like you would have no self respect. Open your mouth.”

You parted your lips, letting Zeke’s cock fill your mouth. A sick grin of satisfaction crept across his face. He rolled his hips against your face letting the shaft hit the back of your throat. You breathed deeply through your nose and ran your pillowy tongue along the underside of his cock. He let out a hearty groan and placed his hand on the base of your skull. He thrusted, moaning your name as precum dripped down your throat.

Your chest was slowly coated with drool. It left your breasts shimmering under the dimmed pendant light hanging from the ceiling. Your nipples were tumescent and you longed for them to be in between Zeke’s teeth. You looked up at him wide-eyed like some sort of faux ingénue.

He swallowed hard. It was a privilege to have you kneeling in front of him. He kept fucking your mouth raw and gave your hair a hard tug.

“You know I can’t come if you don’t cry a little,” he goaded through gritted teeth.

He pulled on your hair again and forced you to hold the full length of his cock in your mouth. Little tears started to well up in your eyes and trickle down from the corners. He liked it best when you looked like a sobbing statue of the Virgin Mary, brows knitted in blissful torment.

“Your mouth feels so good,” he groaned while clenching his jaw. “Fuck.”

Zeke tossed his head back and grasped your face by the cheeks and thrust wildly. All you could hear was him moaning as he fucked his cum down your throat. Some managed to work its way out of your mouth. Once he finished, he palmed your forehead, pushing you off of his cock. You sat before him with your lips and chin glossy with cum, your breasts coated in spit, and your thighs sticky with your own fluids.

“Do you have any more tiresome retorts?”

You didn’t bother answering.

He continued with his dressing-down. “You’re too easy to break. I always think you’ll put up more of a fight because of that mouth of yours. But every time you're reduced to a piteous slut with next to no effort.”

He lifted your chin.

“Though,” he cooed. ”You were very obedient once I beat you into submission.”

You went to speak, but all you could do was whimper. That little incomprehensible noise was enough for Zeke to get on his knees and tug off his cardigan. He draped it over your shoulders. You smiled weakly and slipped your arms through the sleeves.

“Can I be sweet to you now? I’m running out of fucked up things to say,” he said, pressing his forehead against yours.

You snorted. “Yeah. What do you got in mind?”

He stood and helped you up, letting you lie on the bed. He crawled on top of you and kissed your forehead. It was a welcome change from the sting of his slap. Pain was a lovely thing, but exhausting all the same. He slipped his hand between your thighs, running his fingers along your slick folds.

“I want to bury my face in your pussy,” he replied before licking his fingers clean.

“Please do that,” you sighed as he nibbled on your collarbone.

He left a trail of kisses down your neck and chest, stopping only to swirl his warm tongue around your nipple. Quiet, drawn out moans emanated from you as he began to suck on your swollen bud. His soft lips felt like heaven as he hungrily lapped your breast. In between the sounds of him suckling, he let out a stream of subdued whines.

“Want you so bad,” he said as he made his way down to your dripping cunt.

Your toes curled in anticipation as Zeke bent your knees. He parted your thighs and nestled his face between them. Your breath hitched as his beard tickled your skin. He tongued your weeping hole while his nose nuzzled your clit. You rocked your hips back and forth, grinding up against his face.

You opened your mouth to speak, but could only let out a startled hiccup. Zeke surprised you by reaching up and grabbing you by the hips. He dug his fingers into your tender skin, a little reminder that he still lorded over you.

“Fuck,” he grunted, his breath hot against your cunt. He glanced up at you over his glasses. “You taste so good.”

Shyness pervaded your body. Your cheeks felt like they were on fire. You shut your eyes tight to avoid the brunt of his gaze.

Zeke couldn’t have been less pleased. He dug his nails into your hips.

“Look at me, slut,” he hissed.

You obeyed. There was no avoiding eye contact. He wouldn’t allow for it, not while he ate you alive. He ran his tongue along your folds, savoring the sapid slick that covered them. He wanted to consume you, for you to be his and only his. No one else deserved to taste your piquant nectar.

“Sh—shit,” you murmured, writhing against the mattress.

“Are you gonna come all over my tongue?” He teased.

He sucked on your clit, the hairs of his beard tickling the delicate flesh around it. Your whole body tensed up.

“Yes,” you whimpered.

You went to place your hand on the back of his head but hesitated at the last second.

“Go ahead,” he said.

You rested your hand at the base of his skull and held him close. He grunted as his face was buried further into your cunt. The room was filled with the sounds of your anguished moans and his lecherous slurps. A few labored “fuck”s fell from your lips as you arched your back. You felt like you were ascending.

“C—can I come n—now?” You begged, trying to stave off your orgasm.

Zeke gave your clit a slow lick with his soft tongue.

“I guess,” he said, echoing your earlier tone.

“Fuck you,” you coughed out as ecstasy enveloped you.

Zeke’s teeth grazed your clit; an act that would normally elicit a yelp provoked no alarm. You were awash in rapture. Your grip on his head tightened as you rode out your orgasm. You were dizzy with pleasure and rendered nothing more than a brainless dolly. All you could comprehend was the heat coursing through your body and wetness flowing from your cunt.

“D’you feel a little better now?” Zeke asked.

You looked down, and noticed his glasses were fogged up. His beard glistened with your fluids. You ruffled his hair gently and gave him a little nod. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and got up off the bed.

“Bath?” He asked cheerfully.

You nodded again. The act of speaking would return to you at a later time. Zeke scooped you up off the bed and carried you into the bathroom. He set you down on the bathroom sink while he ran a bath. Once the warm water was flowing he took a seat on the toilet and gestured for you to crawl into his lap. You curled up in his arms, resting your head in the crook of his neck. His heavy, rough hand slipped under the cardigan you wore and stroked your back. The soothing sound of running water and the heat radiating from Zeke’s body made you feel like you were drifting through a blissful dream.

It seemed you had gotten the best out of life.

[hermioneismyrealname]

Ep 6 empty mugs and jealousy

Well... Hm. I'm angry at mugs.

More sugar daddy shopping. Belts? Mahasamut, you innocent darling... He doesn't want them for you. The writer needs his bedroom inspiration, and he's thinking of a belt.

Rak is actually pretty cheery. Hm. Yes, I completely agree that he looks adorable.

JEALOUSY?! Hungry? Two scoops? Wah. DONT LIE TO ME THERE WAS NO WATER IN THERE! NONE. Also that mug is iconic. I want it but it looks small for the amount of tea I drink.

Shh.. not yet.. now you may speak

That was a good move, Mahasamut. You listen if they want to tell first. Brilliant. And wishing for someone's misery, heh. I really like his character. So far, other than abandoning the town that relies on him, there isn't much fault with him. Oh and Rak's heart eyes.

OH cousin! Wow... i want to be his mom. the money part not the getting cheated on. and... being obsessed with a complete ass. wow. abusive too. MAME ENOUGH WITH THE TRAUMA. As easy and terrible of a man like this sounds, to the point that this is unbelievable... I know some of my friends with this sort of background. So yeah. Yeash. And being called annoying when crying.. yup. been there. Next.

I feel like that the bratty cousin is going to be forgiven by the end of this. ONLY 14 MINUTES THROUGH? Jeez MAME. Ok. That hug was cute.

So i respect the hustle of a bunch of friends getting the inside scoop on an author's latest work, I'd be guilty of that too. However, if it wasnt at Mook's expense. Poor girl.

Ok this was also adorable.

but that steel beam must be uncomfortable. aaaand there goes the adorableness. HHAAHHAAHAHAHAHA! oh hello friend. Oh... wait... Did Rak change his pants? OI CONTINUITY STAFF!

my guy.... Khom... you were bought too. I read your book. Dont play coy.

Also

Yes Rak. Send it to Connor and have him come fetch his hubby. THERE IT IS! JEALOUSY! OOOOHHH!! Hydro turbines! Go green energy! (at least what i think they are)

oh. oohohohoh Connor... Oh Connor. You bitter jealous bastard. Who does Rak hug when he has writer's block. ahahaahahah! IF he is going to show up, I want the awful blond hair. YOU HEAR ME MAME?! Give me the full cringe.

That fight was cute but immediately i was distracted by this terrible interior design.

VIE IS MANIPULATING AGAIN. WAH! WAH! Her acting is very convincing. Ah kantoi. A hug? I really want to hate Vie here, but I do admire her manipulation tactics.

Mahasamut, why are you wearing a jacket around the house, near water? BINGO!! A CHILD! HEY NO DISRESPECTING MY MINT CHOCOLATE! YES. MEENA. I AGREE WITH YOU. YOU ENJOY THAT MINT CHOCOLATE ICE CREAM! DONT LET ANYONE DISRESPECT OUR FLAVOUR.

Oh. yeah. Escape that deadass grandpa.

Oh they are going to get interrupted again. Mahasamut, I suggest you put your phone somewhere other than your trousers pocket. That was quick coffee making. AGAIN THERE IS NOTHING IN THAT CUP!!! WHY JUST FILL IT UP WITH SOMEHTING ITS PISSING ME OFF! I WAS GOING TO GIVE THE BENEFIT OF THE DOUBT THAT HE DIDNT MAKE IT THATS WHY IT WAS SO QUICK BUUUUTTTT NOOOOOOOO

THAT MUG IS EMPTY!

OH THAT IS FUNNY. One always thinks its best to give people space, so afraid of disappointing someone while the other cant stand being left alone. HAH!

yeahp. RAk. Mood.

ehheheheh kid's got attitude. Oh brililiant attitude. Ok. Meena is favourite character. and she is emotionally intelligent. I'm completely Meena here. She is so expressive too!

Yeah... and the music change... welp. Sorry but where is the prep? We end it like that then? Sure.

What the hell do they keep pointing at?

And so now I realize, this is going to get worse. Today's ep was a little sweet. Soft. Comforting even. Rak's character development is back, it will go again next episode because of his cousin. His cousin, by the way, I do not like but I think there is going to be some sort of Oh, can i say it? Tong level redemption arc™️. And by arc, I mean a 2 degree curve because her character is shallow and close to pointless when the giggolo father plot exists. A little disappointed with this week's bingo, but alas.

[proverbsss]

delicacies (john tyler x reader) -suggestive/nsfw

John Tyler, Tell Me Your Secrets

prompt(s) + synopsis : "be naked when i get home” and “you’re not allowed to come until i say so” [from this post] // reader is John's private chef while he's living under an alias

anon: I hope you enjoy this :D I do apologize for the cliffhanger.........but I don't know when this will be continued.

notifs: john tyler's a bad man (we know), john disrupts reader's communication (phone), after time skip reader is restrained ; this is purely hamish thirst and headcanoned as cnc, please consume safely!

3:30PM •

“Mr. Wolfe, you’re too complimentary of me,” you’re saying, twisting John Wolfe’s landline phone cord around your finger and watching minced onions cook down in your saucepan.

“Well, anyone who can cook something that close to my Mom’s cheesy squash casserole…” he teases, “deserves a medal and a competitive pay raise.”

“You pay me fine,” you push back playfully, thinking of the thousand dollars he dropped for just three days of your cooking. Not for the first time, you dismiss the nagging sense that he had the money cold like that, and in cash. But you don’t have the luxury of being choosy about some long list of clientele. You threw–or even blew–all your money at two years of cooking school, and as nice as Mr. Fish of Finz’ Seafood is, he’s being a bit of a sluggish bastard about arranging for you to stage. “Before I forget, did you want a chocolate dessert, or a fruit tonight?”

“Oh, you have to give me all the hard choices–” he mock-complains.

“You are the boss.” You tease back. Yes, you wouldn’t mind an evening with him. Sucking down strawberries, playing coy when he flirts with you, melting into a soft, saccharine kiss–

“Fruit, please.” he pulls you out of your reverie with a jubilant decision.

“And it’ll just be you?” You kick yourself in the ankle.

“Just me and the finest private chef in this state.” He’s chuckling, you’re getting ready to say goodbye and add the dry white wine to your sauce francese, when his tone shifts a bit and he chuckles, “Just one more thing, Y/N?”

He can practically see your bright eyes get wide and ready to answer him.

“Be naked when I get home.”

Your breath stalls in your chest, the feeling of dropping from a height belts you in the stomach and you stutter, “What was that?”

“You heard me. I’ll see you tonight.”

He hangs up the phone. You stand stock-still in his kitchen, suddenly sure you’re being watched, being cornered. You grip the counter for balance and breath. Not ‘naked,’ surely? Be ‘ready’ when I get home. That doesn’t sound plausibly similar. ‘Make it when I get home,’

you’re prepping now, and he knows that because you told him. With that bottomless feeling in your stomach is a small quaking in your legs. Your boss of three days and counting. Asks you to sleep with him after you make him dinner. Are you safe here? Do you leave?

Mindlessly, you get the bottle of wine and splash your onions. They hiss happily in the pan. On second thought, you swig the Riesling back yourself to taste what the onions are so enthusiastic about.

‘Naked when I get home’ sounds better in John’s voice than it has any right to, playing over and over in your mind. Between finals and bills and moving out of your ex-friend’s shabby apartment with its glorious little kitchen, you haven’t had much time or energy for getting up to naughtiness with any partner to speak of. John’s nice. He’d probably fuck you nice.

He might also be weird and ask to drink this Riesling out of your well-padded collarbones or some other rich guy shit, but there are far worse fates. Through your initial apprehension, the warmth and seduction of a thought like bedding down the tall, dark, and charming man who employs you starts to seep into your imagination, and you sigh gently at the thought of his hands giving your body a much-needed going over.

Finish the sauce. Then figure out whether to finish him.

__________

• 4:30 PM •

Well, this looks silly. You take yourself in, in the mirror of his guest bathroom, trying to catch every angle, every unflattering position to avoid. Not naked, no. You don’t have quite the gumption for that. Which is ironic, considering you’re still entertaining the thought of being very, very naked with John later.

But you must acknowledge to yourself that you have prepared a godlike chicken francese with garlic mashed potatoes, left perfectly hot on the stove while you stripped down to your skivvies in order to serve them upon his arrival. And this wasn’t the plan at all getting dressed this morning, so a rust-colored bra with some cotton floral boyshorts is going to have to be the offering. And the apron. Lest we forget the tiny gingham apron.

You run a hand up your leg, peek at a particular curve of your ass. You must compliment your features where credit is due. Can a man possibly find this alluring? You envision yourself proceeding into his carpeted dining room with the baking dish of chicken francese in its lovely lemony sauce, and your legs and feet bare, your shoulders covered only by straps, the checkered apron folded and tied around your waist revealing a little bit of your midriff.

‘Be naked when I get home’ and you’ve dressed for a slightly risque slumber party. Has he done this before? Is that why he hired you so quickly when you catered the Whole Foods executives’ luncheon? This is stupid, you’re stupid, this isn’t safe, when have you ever been so impulsive?

But when have you? How often have you craved more excitement, someone saying dirty words to you in dulcet tones, someone who will use more than five hasty minutes to make you feel good?

And if he’s bad in bed? That just serves you right.

You panic and fight the urge to gather up your chef coat, tank top, and slacks when you hear the front door open. “Y/N, I’m home!” John calls, joyfully. Still not the demeanor of someone giving you sexy orders over his home phone, or someone dangerous for that matter. Maybe this is a bad idea. Maybe…

John knocks on the bathroom door. “Y/N? You okay?”

“Hh-Hi, yes, yes, I’m fine.” Think, dammit. And make up your mind. “Are you ready for dinner?”

“Starving.” You can just see his smile in your mind’s eye.

“The table’s set if you want to go sit. I’ll serve.”

“You spoil me,” he says. And is there the littlest bit of an edge to his voice, or do you imagine it? His footsteps fall away from the door, and presumably he takes his seat in the dining room. Your routine for the last two days.

What are you hoping for here? Because if he does take you up on this–avoiding the mirror, gah–offer, you’re going to have to be okay with his hands, maybe his tongue, maybe his dick a lot of places pretty quickly. This is real life. This is not a fantasy.

Fuck it. Mustering courage, you inhale and exhale, and crack the bathroom door open just to make sure he’s not in the hall. He isn’t. You tiptoe, looking down at your feet, wringing your hands, barely aware as you step into the kitchen where he’s–waiting for you. He’s in front of the door to the outside.

“You do spoil me,” John says, a foreign huskiness in his voice as he looks you over, shameless. “Look at you.”

You color nine shades of scarlet and can’t speak.

“I didn’t mean to scare you. I wasn’t sure what I’d find when you came through that door. You almost followed directions,” He smirks to himself, “almost. Where’d you leave them?”

Your heart is hammering too loudly for you to process the question.

“Clothes, sweetie. Where’d you leave them?”

“Bathroom,” you get out, confused. Is he going to subject you to the embarrassment of putting them back on?

“They’ll stay there,” he promises, taking a step toward you. The shadow he casts is long, long. It’s getting later in the evening. Your chicken is eating temperature now, it could veer dangerously into cold territory soon. When prior to this have you so abandoned one of your food-babies? “Everything you wore today stays here and I’ll keep them.”

“My…coat…” you say, a little bit genuinely miffed. Dirty words are one thing, but that thing was several hundred dollars. To say nothing of its sentimental value. A crisp heavy cotton sign that even amid sacrifices, you’d made it. You’d begun.

“Maybe that. Maybe that and nothing else. When I let you go. If.”

“John?” This is somewhere between seduction and plain creepiness. You’re thinking about the door and how he’s between it and you. Reflexively you pat your lightly clad body for your cell phone, and John holds it out to you in one palm, battery in the other.

“You left it, silly.”The two of you make eye contact, almost like other times, his Cheshire cat smile painfully disarming. But this time his pretty mouth tightens at the corners, and a seriousness overtakes his features that you don’t necessarily like. And of course he’s holding your phone, until he isn’t. He drops the battery on the floor and stomps it till it breaks under his shoe. Now you’re ready to run.

“Um-what the fuck?”

“Language, please. Couldn’t bear thinking I’d made a mistake with you.”

It crosses your mind to yell for help, and as you open your mouth to do so John surrounds you. For a tall man, he’s terrifyingly fast on his feet and his hand over your mouth is like a vice. You can’t see, won’t realize till later but on a flat surface nearby or in his pocket is a chloroformed napkin–one of the dinner napkins you didn’t set–and the lure of chemical shuteye is pulling you into darkness, soft, sweet darkness…

______

• Nightfall •

A sheet, some satiny give underneath your drowsy body. Bed. You’re in bed.

“That’s why you’ll always find me in the kitchen at parties/

You will always find me in the kitchen at parties–

Bum, buh–”

Not your bed.

You’re on your stomach. It tickles where a rumple in the bedsheet meets your ankle. You drag your ankle back and forth over it in a soothing repetition. Someone or something has a hold of it so it doesn’t go very far, somehow reminiscent of the sensation in dreams of opening your mouth to talk or scream only to have nothing come out. The movement you think you’re making might be so small in real life that it’s imperceptible.

Your awareness wobbles and flickers as you take in the haze of new stimulus. Someone is singing.

“Me and my girlfriend we argued/

And she ran away from home/

She must’ve found somebody new/

And now I’m all alone.

Dun-buh-buh-

Living on my own…”

The bed creaks somewhere near to you and you feel new weight alongside one of your arms, which is extended, and a little sore. And doesn’t give when you try to tug it.

John perceives you moving around and immediately acts to get a better vantage point on you.

“Hey, good girl. Good girl. Nice to see you.”

[firewoodwander]

hello allow me to infect your brain with a polyship. After the war: Fives/Tup, Tup/Dogma, Dogma/Slick (potential Tup/Dogma/Slick or Fives/Tup/Dogma, but Fives and Slick are on sight)

(for additional fun and profit throw in Echo returns with his batch of badboyfriends)

this is for the pairing/smut trope/kink meme, but you know they might be too busy fighting about everything, for anyone to get laid 🤣

BCNCBSSJHS the Tru Poly Agenda is one of my favourite agendas and I’ve been thinking about tup and dogma (my ogs… my beloveds) already, so this is too good. Idk how to get [counts fingers] almost nine whole (lol) characters into a prompt fic but the thought is there

Wish you would write…

“I’m back!” Fives shouts into the house, letting the door slam shut behind him.

“Did you pass Slick on your way in?” Tup calls out. Dogma swears under his breath and jabs Tup in the ribs, but Tup only grins and wriggles a little bit in his lap to get away from sharp fingers.

“No,” Fives says, sounding immediately perturbed, “thank the stars. Why is that bastard still coming here?”

“Because he’s a pain in the ass,” Dogma drawls, at the same time Tup snorts a laugh and emphasises the phrase, “Because we like him,” like he would to a cadet.

“He’s an indicted felon!” Fives protests—an old argument. He wanders into the living room and finds them sprawled on the sofa. “A coward and a bastard,” he explains, leaning down distractedly to kiss Tup hello and Dogma on the top of his head, “and he blew up half the fucking base on Christophsis.”

“We weren’t even there,” Dogma mutters. He has his thumbnail between his teeth and he’s not paused reading the article on his datapad. Fives makes an irate noise. “Get over yourself.”

Tup swings his feet down to the floor and gets up to follow Fives and the crinkle of grocery bags into the kitchen. “Anyway—aren’t there more important things to discuss?”

“Always,” Fives agrees, his frown melting into a wide grin as he unpacks the fresh produce. “The Marauder is on course to make planet fall, ETA twenty-two-hundred hours. I picked up a few more bits than usual, we’ll have a late latemeal and an extra mouth to feed tonight!”

Fives’ joy is infectious. Tup finds himself grinning too as he absorbs it, wrapping himself around Fives’ back and making a great hindrance of himself, not that Fives seems to give a damn.

“More like five extra mouths,” says Dogma, finally following them in. He sets his datapad in its cradle and comes over to help pack away the food. He gets an extra jab in to Tup’s side with his elbow and a smirk; Tup sticks his tongue out at him.

Together they clear the counters. Tup washes and slices up a bowl of fruit for the three of them. Dogma takes the time to wipe down all the surfaces, and then gets carried away scrubbing the sink and then the hob while he’s at it. Fives watches, plying him with berries from time to time and planning what to make for Echo’s return.

“We’re going to need to move soon,” Tup announces suddenly.

Both Dogma and Fives pause in their heckling of each other and look towards him in askance.

“Well, as much as I like our flat… it’s kind of small?” Tup runs his hand along the length of the counter and makes it only a foot or so until his fingers find the edge of the sink. “And with the number of people coming and going, it’s not just ourselves that Dogma and I are thinking about, anymore.”

Dogma is already frowning off into the middle distance. Tup can practically see the thoughts cycling through his mind, discarded or tagged onto his list of priorities one by one. More bedrooms, for one. A bigger reception area. Maybe even an actual table to eat at, rather than finding pasta under the sofa cushions way later than they ever want to be finding it.

But then Fives asks “Are you inviting me to move in?” with a sly, and slightly shy little smile, and that snaps Dogma right out of it with a huff and a flick of a tea towel.

“Are you seriously being coy about that? You live here already, you dolt.”

Fives cackles, dodging Dogma’s next snap of the towel. He hides behind Tup, who smiles wryly and pats his shoulder.

“So? What do you think?”

Ever-indulgent, Dogma smiles over at him. It makes the vertex of his tattoo crinkle a little, just the way Tup loves.

“I think that would be wise,” he says, and lunges for Fives again. “Especially if we’re going to keep picking up strays.”

Tup reaches out and snatches Dogma by the waist, preventing him running after their hooting third. Dogma goes pliant in his hold and Tup squeezes him around the middle.

“Thank you,” he says, utterly sincere. Dogma twists to brush a kiss along his jaw.

“Of course.”

[maryhadalittlehobby]

IWTV S2 Liveblog E3 No Pain

We start out with Daniel in this restaurant and he says he is partial to the non wigging items as his fish is moving. Is this the Louis effect?! from the fox last season

He is trying to piece together things from his dreams. What stands out is "I wont save you this time". I cant really read the rest but its interesting that he is now realizing these are memories and they are significant.

This Raglin James guy. Who is he really? Book readers get the easter egg but is he really the body thief guy. Also Ive heard it say he is a detractor from the Talamasca. Are we meeting him post or pre-detracting if he is who he says he is?

The Talamasca watches and doesn't get involved so why would he be sharing with Daniel EVERYTHING? Especially when he knows Daniel is so susceptible to getting his mind read by the vamps. And he KNOWS but exactly how? Does he have some gifts? Does he have a in the vampire residence like some have guessed. So many questions

900 to 1600 vamps. Geez!

Sleeping Beauty Louis. Get some sleep, you desrve it king! Scoot over I'm tired too!

Peaceful beings real Rashid?! Biological imperative in conflict with human morality?? Sir its in conflict with human existence! but go off i guess

I knew there was some significance to the camera panning to the audio recording on the Daniels laptop but I didn't get it until a second viewing! We didn't see it while Armand was talking but we saw it after and there still should have been sound waves even after he finished speaking! But there weren't! omg Armand!

Blenders lol

The vampire we see in the beginning broke the first and fifth law that rules the Children of Darkness-possibly made a vampire without the coven leaders consent and detroyed another vampire...

Ok here we go Armands version of event. You know its gonna be good -truth or not!

OOhhhh Armand telling Lestat "Come to me?! Did he actually say this or is he parroting Louis's story here?

Hmm this kid is not who I imagined for Nikki but we will give him a chance

I love the mirror story telling here with Lestats rejection of the coven with Louis's rejection of the coven.

Armand showing Lestat his power! Yes humble him king!

The eye thing was hella freaky though not gonna lie

Armand saying Nikki is unharmed meanwhile my man looks ROUGH- Bitten, bruised and battered. This is Armands idea off not harming mind you. Didn't Armand tell Louis last episode I will not harm you??Louis should be afraid.

Lestat has never been more French lol- What are those sounds lol

I wonder is anyone not familiar with the books believes Armand. I can't wait to watch reaction. Lestat is a cartoon bully.

They ended themself * mournful innocent look* Sir you murdered those people!

Lord Lestat and Armand speaking French. Yes whatever yall are saying

Here? now ?! in front of Nikki and the whole theater?Armand playing coy and getting lost in his own self insert fic like soooo hilarious

Lestat is, was and will always be for Lestat... ok IS?!?iS!! Where is he? what does Louis KNow?! In the books up until the end of Louis and Armands relationship, he assumes Lestat is dead because thats what Armand tells him. This Louis seems to know he is alive so what does this mean?!

Never say i love you to a raging narcissist. Louis knows all to well but I do think we will get a Loustat love admission this season if not to actual Lestat then to Dreamstat

Oh Claudia- he kept you hostage. Fucking Bastard

Can we talk about the makeup? The too much eyeliner is so young girl trying to play grown. Trust me I know. Its a canon event. 18 y0 Mary had a little hobby

Some people were upset with the coven calling her puce and the "abuse" she was getting from them. Tell me you haven't been called a lovingly mean nickname without telling me. It was hazing. She has to start from the bottom. And lets face it its nothing in comparison to what they could have and will do.

The sneeze!Somebody had their panties in a bunch about vampires with allergies but come on. It was funny! It was supposed to be comical. Relax babe.

Claudia interning at the theater. Not unlike my internship experiences tbh. Less blood but still alot of sucking up.

I love Sam...both the character and actor

Vampire date night!

Louis said-I'm for the streets! I'm in da club! As he should. Get with it Armand or get Lost!'

"Oh there's room. I'm blushing!" Louis flirting is a thing to behold....but was that a double entendre (eyes)

Daniel flustered trying not to get caught looking at the Talamasca files. When in doubt bring up Claudia. Bam distraction! lol

Santiago if you don't leave Claudia alone! Fishing for details that she and Louis haven't got straight yet(angry face)

Also she tells Santiago she got lying from her maker at-sick burn to Lestat. Santiago's line after could be read that he doesn't think she is a great liar. Neither was Lestat girl!

Louis admitting to Armad he killed Lestat thus breaking one of the great laws. Girl. Armand already knew but GIRL. Atleast he didnt implicate Claudia but STILL ARMAND KNOWS(crying face)

I honestly thought the new version of the "Come to Me" song would come when Louis and Armand were trying to have sexy times. Who knows maybe it will be a reprise lol

The Loustat park scene tho! I am ashamed how much I replayed it...the good bits.

"I am still the only one you trust even now Kill me again" !1!!they are so insane

Louis is so mean to himself as Lestat. Thats not the only way you know how to love. What about Claudia? Your family? Even Lestat in the good years.

Claudia must feel Louis going through it and she must NOT CARE smh He is always kinda going through it so she is probably used it.

Claudia debut on stage. She looks so happy and Louis is a proud dad. This is so fucked up.

I wonder if Louis can hear Santiago talking to Armand. I have no doubt Santiago does not give to fucks about Louis hearing them but Armand does. Louis outright believes Armand is going to kill him so maybe yes. Or maybe he just has a bad feeling especially with how the conversation with Armand ended last time.

The five laws and Louis and Claudia have damn near broken every one 😭

This whole time watching s1 and now s2, I was like i will be fine with what eventually happens to Claudia. Cue to me CRYING at the mention from Armand that she wont make it and not even by his or the covens hand. But because of her own doing.

"And I play the little girl?" ugh this back half of this episode is all pain!

Not for nothing I was genuinely scared for Louis when Armand was threatening him in the sewer...as if Louis is not alive and well telling this story lol. I let the tale seduce me a little too much.

Not Louis and Armand bonding over Lestat breaking their hearts. And that yesterday line is absolutely yesterday. He got Lestat tied up awaiting the trail I know it.

Are you inviting me in? "I love that little fun nod to vampire lore but Louis is so wild for that. Armand was absolutely going to kill you minutes ago fam. And you told you self (through Lestat) that you don't trust him or any of these vamps.m WILD i say

So much happened again this episode! But still good pacing. I liked it better after viewing it again but it comes in 3rd from the episodes we've seen so far. Episode 2 is still my fav so far. So many new questions arose and its soo painful waiting week to week for these episodes!

[evita-shelby]

Idk if you’re still taking request (if not that’s totally ok!!) but could I maybe request something for Finn Shelby x reader with the falling asleep on another shoulder prompt where they are maybe at a bonfire and Finn has a crush on reader but hasn’t mentioned it but then she falls asleep on his shoulder and he’s internally freaking out and him and Isiah are like silently yelling across the fire all excited and stuff. The the reader wakes up and they both have to freeze and play it cool❤️

Sleeping Beauty

Gif by @peakyblindersfan

For context, this takes place a couple of months before season 5

Tw: drinking, racism, child neglect, referenced domestic abuse

He’s always liked you.

Since that time in school when you let him copy off your work.

The two of you had grown up, he had become Mr. Shelby at the Betting Shop and you’d become his favorite secretary.

He loved you since he saw you crying over another boy when the two of you were fifteen.

You’re too young to know about love, Tommy had told him the

As if their parents hadn’t run off together when they were teenagers, like John and his first wife, Martha, had done.

Finn loved you, but you didn’t know it.

You scared him, he had admitted to Isiah.

You were as clever as the devil and twice as pretty. You would be the Grace to his Tommy, except without the betrayal, murder of innocent people,Grace’s stuck up-ness, and the whole dying part.

If you were his, he’d never treat you like his still living brothers treated their wives. He’d be like John, who never struck Esme nor cheated on her.

There’s a bonfire thrown for Charlie’s birthday, and much like every birthday after Grace had him, the Burgesses don’t come. Turns out they never cared about Grace or her ‘little mongrel bastard baby’ anyways.

But his family doesn’t let that stop them, and it provides the perfect opportunity to finally tell you how he feels.

You look like an angel wrapped up in his coat.

If only you hadn’t fallen asleep on his shoulder.

Isiah grins and gives a thumbs up from across the two of you and raised his bottle of whiskey in a mock toast to Finn’s strange luck tonight.

Sometimes Finn thinks his real family are the Jesus Family, they are the only one who seem to actually care about him.

Only Polly knows about this, but she’s busy playing coy with Aberama Gold. Ada doesn’t care, Arthur is too drunk and being too rough with nice and soft Linda and Tommy is pretending he loves his wife who deserves better than a sad cheating bastard.

Finn Shelby will be the exception in his unhappy family.

He raised his half-empty bottle in return. You were a lightweight, two or three sips had you giggling against his shoulder. He found that adorable.

Its then he feels you stir. And you wake up embarrassed at having fallen asleep on his shoulder.

“What were you doing?” you ask, groggy and curious.

“Um, just drinking and waiting for my sleeping beauty to wake up.” He says, congratulating himself for being as smooth as Tommy.

[chanfictions]

Shadow Clones

Part 1 - Chidori

Kakashi x Reader

Here by popular request is the sequel to Chidori.

18+ Content! Minors, DNI!

All of the fun you might imagine one would have in the bedroom with shadow clones. No spoilers this time 🙃.

"Let's play a little game. Can you figure out which of us is the real one?"

3.1k

With a yawning sigh, you stretched exaggeratedly, popping your tired back in a few places as you meandered down the hallway leading to your favorite person's apartment. After a long week of back to back missions, you were ready for some leisurely downtime and some much needed stress relief. Prior to your last mission, you had made plans to have dinner with Kakashi at his place tonight. He sounded quite excited about the idea and went on about how he was going to whip up something very special for you. Despite your best attempts at twisting the information out of him with your sexiest interrogation methods, he remained tight-lipped about it, only smirking from behind that damn mask with a coy hint of, "It's a surprise."

You finally reached his door with a wide grin spreading across your face as you flipped his key into your hand and let yourself in. Tucking the little ninja-hound keychain away in your pocket, you pulled the door shut behind you with a solid click. "Kakashi? I'm back!" You called out into the seemingly empty apartment. Confusion washed over you, as there was no delightful scent of dinner brewing in the kitchen, nor was there any sign that he was even home. Wondering if he had been sent on a last minute mission, you kicked off your shoes at the door and took a peek around the eerily quiet apartment. Your heart dropped for a moment, thinking that maybe he just forgot.

As you peered around the frame of the hallway, you yelped in surprise as a pair of arms coiled around your waist, and a familiar voice hummed in your ear, and familiar lips planted a kiss on your temple. "Hi, kitten."

Squeaking still from the shock of being startled, you whirled around and gave him a playful thump to the chest with a half closed fist as a laugh bubbled from your mouth. "Damnit, Kakashi! One of these days you're going to sneak up on me when I'm tired and you're going to end up stabbed."

He smirked down at you, taking hold of your wrist and giving your knuckles a light kiss. "It's cute that you think you're faster than I am," he teased.

"It's cute that you think I'm so delicate that I couldn't take you in a fight," you taunted back playfully, sticking your tongue out at him.

"Are you sure about that?" Kakashi’s voice chirped from behind you, breath fanning your neck as he placed a kiss just below your jaw.

For half a second, you let out a happy little sigh and melted into the touch. He knew what a sucker you were for that. Then your eyes snapped open, staring up at the far-too-smug-looking Kakashi in front of you. Your overly tired brain entirely malfunctioned. That was impossible, because he was behind you. Who was behind you?? With a high squeak, you spun around again, your back pressing firmly against Kakashi’s chest as you jumped back in surprise. It was still Kakashi’s smug mug staring back at you.

"Hi, kitten," the second said with a cool smirk.

Your eyes widened as it dawned on you that your drunken conversation with Jiraiya was about to come back and bite you for a second time. Oh, shit. He didn't forget about that. After your Chidori-fueled night of fun last week, Kakashi hadn't brought up your steamy little comment to that raunchy old smut machine regarding what else could be done with shadow clones outside the field of battle.

The Kakashi behind you curled his arms around your waist, leaning down to nibble at your neck just as the other one had. "Something the matter?" His inquiry floated so casually into your ear as those lips left nips and bites along your neck.

Caught between a nervous squeak and a moan, your brain was struggling to process that he was both kissing and staring smugly at you right now. "Uh, babe? You know I'm not a sensory type," you bit your lip to contain a breathy gasp as the one behind you ran a hand up your torso.

"Your point?" The one in front of you stepped forward, tipping your chin up to kiss you with the same lips you felt on your neck.

Your cheeks burned with a rush of heat over the embarrassing confusion surrounding your current predicament. A fluttering sensation replaced your heart beat, and a needy heat began to soak your panties. This was insane. "I, um, c-caan't -- teh-heelll which of y-you is the clone," you stammered weakly as the one in front of you grazed your inner thigh with his fingers. Hands were everywhere. It was a struggle to discern who they were attached to without looking. From what you could tell, the one kissing your neck slid warm palms up into your shirt while the other casually popped a button on the front of your pants.

"Let's play a little game, then. If you can figure out which of us is the real one, we'll give you a prize," he murmured from behind you as his rough palms slid under your bra.

"--but, there's a little catch. You see, if you can't figure it out, well, we're just going to have to punish you. That shouldn't be a problem, though. Surely a skilled shinobi like you can figure out who your boyfriend is, right?" The one standing in front of you grasped your chin softly, pointing your flushed gaze up at the tilted lips and coolly amused eyes staring back at you.

He planned this, that foxy jerk. You swallowed hard as a confused wave of arousal crashed over your body. Being the center of a Kakashi sandwich left you struggling to gather the words tangled upon your tongue. Your clothes were falling off at an alarming rate and you found yourself slowly being walked into his bedroom between the two of them. As the one behind you left you gasping with playful pulls and pinches of your nipples, the other was making swift work of the various fasteners on your clothes. "Mmm, define… punish," you breathed, biting your lip while running your hands up the solid chest in front of you, nearly losing your train of thought as a hand slid up your thigh, teasing you through your soaked panties. You felt someone's arousal pressing firmly against your ass. They were both solid. Figuring out who was who seemed impossible.

"Hmmm… maybe we won't tell you and that can be a surprise as well," the one in front of you mused, ghosting your throbbing clit through fabric.

"Who knows? It might end up being fun," the other teased, leaving hot kisses along your jaw.

A needy whine escaped your parted lips as you arched your hips into the hand teasing you through that silky material while working on undressing the Kakashi in front of you, tossing things aside as you went. Their combined efforts left you extremely distracted. Two identical pairs of hands roamed your body, caressing every inch of your skin. A little moan hissed through your teeth as one left biting brands on your neck and kneaded your breasts while the other swallowed your breathy sounds in hungry kisses while teasing you mercilessly through your silk panties, leaving your body pulsing with a lusty ache. Their respective arousals jabbed into either side of you, leaving you wiggling your hips suggestively against them to get them to elicit echoing groans. Hearing Kakashi hum in stereo like that was oddly satisfying.

You squeaked in surprise when you suddenly found yourself falling backwards, as the Kakashi behind you had maneuvered you towards the bed while they distracted you with the panty soaking flurry of hands covering your body. Still with that smug smirk plastered to his face, the one in front of you made swift work of the last article of clothing you had left. Shirts flew casually across the room, and you were flipped over to face one of the two smug, foxy bastards. Biting your lip, you slid one hand up his chest while unbuttoning his pants with the other, giving your hips a playful waggle at the Kakashi that was still on his feet.

A chuckle hummed behind you as that Kakashi shed the last of his clothes, pressing a palm on your lower back and sliding fingers through your slick folds. "Did you want something, kitten?" He inquired coolly, a smile curling at the corner of his lips.

A flush crept across your cheeks as the arousal in front of you sprung free from its cloth confines, in disbelief that you were doing something like this. "I--"

He didn't give you a chance to fully answer that and just slid two fingers into your soaking core, leaving you gasping and grinding yourself into his touch while his counterpart took a fistful of your hair, taking control of your head. "Have you figured it out yet?"

Your back arched, and you mewled as the fingers working your throbbing clit brought you ever closer to the edge. The hot knot of light in your core intensified, stealing your ability to concentrate enough to form words. "Nnnnn," you buzzed, trying to collect yourself and failing miserably.

"I'm sorry. I didn't quite catch that," the voice behind you hummed, now masterfully strumming your clit to a beat that left you gasping for air, stealing your words from you. The only sound you could produce was a quivering whine as his skillful fingertips let up enough just in time to leave you hanging.

With a pathetic whimper, you rolled your hips back into him. "Nnneed more data," you choked out, licking your lips while wrapping your hand around the delicious cock staring you in the face. You swirled your tongue around the tip. Even the taste was real.

They chuckled in unison before delving into your eager body - from behind, sliding achingly slowly into your throbbing core, stretching your walls around a delicious girth, and from the front, pressing your hungry lips down around the meaty arousal that had been twitching in wait by the grip one had on your hair. You groaned loudly around the thickness competing for space in your throat with air as he simultaneously rutted into you from behind. A chorus of contented sounds chimed from all three of you. "Come on, kitten. Surely you have a guess by now," the one behind you murmured huskily as the sound of chirping birds began to echo through the room.

You squealed around the obstruction in your mouth, struggling against the hand pressing your head down as little bolts of lightning struck in thousands of hot, tiny points around your clit, putting a wild arch in your back. You fell down on one elbow, letting out a cry of ecstasy as the surprise onslaught hurled you into oblivion. Your walls clenched and fluttered around the nigh perfect cock railing you from behind. Choking and sputtering, the hand in your hair pulled you up with a lewd pop as the wails of a soul crushing orgasm rang from your chest. A thumb smeared drool across your cheek with quiet laughter vibrating through his body into yours. "Well?"

"Fuuu-huuuck, K-kakaaa-haashiiii!" All you could do was let loose your pleasure-drunk cry into the ceiling as your legs trembled uncontrollably under the electric ministrations that set every nerve in your body ablaze. Muscles contracted involuntarily, leaving you strangling the cock stuffing your soaked pussy with an impossibly tight grip. With a guttural groan, the one behind you dug fingers into your hips roughly, fucking you hard through your unintelligible screaming before abruptly sliding out of you to ease you forward into the waiting grasp of his double like a twisted game of hot potato. You were impaled again, this time by the one beneath you who stifled your surprised moan by pressing your face into his neck. You gasped and stammered at the army of hands moving across your body, still fluttering wildly from that first charged orgasm.

"Do you remember exactly what you told Jiraiya the night you spilled all of your dirty little secrets?" One of them whispered in your ear, though it was difficult to discern the source over your panting.

"Oh, fuck," you whined into the solid chest below you. Of course, you remembered what you told that pervy traitor.

"Say it," they goaded, hands exploring every inch of you while never ceasing the pounding that was sending you into orbit.

You mewled softly, biting your lip to stifle your embarrassment. Heat flushed your cheeks and melded with the broiling sweat that began to slick your body. You wanted to feel both of them inside of your little vice of a pussy. That's what they wanted to hear. They wanted you to tell them that you loved his cock so much that you wanted to be stuffed with it twice. Your face flamed as you struggled to arrange a sentence in your head, but the little tag team duo was making that task incredibly difficult. Hands climbed your front and back, grasping your ass and tangling in your hair. Mouths on your neck, their breathing echoed in surround sound. The cock buried within you left you hungry for more, though you could hardly wrap your preoccupied mind around the logistics. "Please," you breathed against his neck, grinding your hips against his. "I… I want you both -- n-need you both," you whimpered pathetically.

The movements slowed to a halt, leaving you aching for friction as a quiet complaint breezed from your lips. "Such a good girl for us," a voice hummed from behind as you felt another tip sliding through your folds, teasing your already stuffed pussy. The skin strained against the second dribbling tip that was slowly making room for itself as you let out a pained little cry into the solid chest below you. They crooned to and praised you in unison as the second cock slowly worked its way into you. A rush of comforting hands moved across your neck, cradling and kissing your face. Another warm body pressed against you from behind. The beating of their hearts through their chests almost seemed synchronized as the second fully sheathed himself, leaving you moaning and clawing at the chest beneath you, overwhelmed and speechless at the absolute feeling of fullness that was the center of your existence.

"Please," you begged desperately, rolling your hips and hissing a lewd groan into their ears, nipping and biting the shoulder below you, urging them into action. A hand from behind you smothered your own, lacing his fingers around yours as the roller coaster ride of your life began that left you screaming into the abyss.

Two cocks. Two Kakashis. You could barely handle one of him. Seeing double left you drunk on your own cries of ecstasy as they pounded your sopping pussy, threatening to make the bed punch holes in the wall behind the headboard, leaving the frame groaning in protest under the songs of your wails. Your ears rang as the world around you vanished, leaving just you with your game of Guess Who: Kakashi Edition. You had all but thrown that idea out the window as you were now convinced that there had been two of him all along and this was just an elaborate setup. Teeth gnashing, you tangled your fingers into tufts of thick, silver hair as your body shuddered in time with their thrusts. A heat unlike you had ever felt before mounted rapidly in your core, leaving your jaw trembling and toes curling as a raspy hellcry readied itself in your chest. Your walls clenched almost painfully around the pair of cocks fucking the sense out of you. Your clit throbbed. Your thighs ached. That boiling heat built until you unleashed a banshee wail that had to be stifled by one of the four hands climbing your body to spare the neighborhood of the details. You creamed on their cocks, soaking them in your essence as your eyes rolled back into your head, as if your soul just left your body.

"Fuck--" they growled in unison, their grips on your sweat-soaked body tightening as your wrecked little pussy pulsed around them in intense waves. One stifled the chaotic sounds of your release, pressing your face into the neck of his counterpart.

Overstimulated and gasping for air, your hips bucked between them, almost unable to handle the onslaught of pleasure tearing you apart. Your face tingled as every muscle in your body contracted in sync with their motion, leaving you breathless and teetering on the edge of passing out. The sounds of their groaning and hissing your name in stereo filled your head. Lips and teeth grazed your neck as the frenzied pace quickened. You were deaf to the sounds of your own screaming as you flew off into space with them. Two final, wild thrusts tossed your body about like you were nothing but a doll. The moaning cry of overwhelming pleasure that escaped your throat came in unison with the intense heat that filled you as they delved into you to a seemingly impossible depth and painted your insides white.

Time slowed as you struggled to make sense of what your name even was as they rolled to the side with you, murmuring soft hums of praise as they slid carefully from your spent pussy and their collective essence seeped from you. Arms encircled you from both sides, pressing your incredible fatigued body between theirs in a mirrored tangle of limbs as you fought to catch your breath. The panting devolved into little bouts of giggling as you nestled yourself firmly into the delightful embrace of your Kakashi sandwich.

"Well?" They hummed in unison, smirking at you while brushing sweaty hair from your face and rubbing soothing lines up your arms.

"I have noooo idea," you giggled in tired defeat, rolling back slightly to gaze between their mirrored, amused expressions.

A voice from the door cut through the sounds of your panting and giggling gasps of fatigue. "Hi, kitten."

You squeaked in surprise, sitting up abruptly from in between the pair lounging smugly on either side of you. "B-babe?"

With a sly smirk, he unfolded his arms and strode into the room. "So, you started without me, I see."

Your eyes widened and your voice rapidly climbed into a shrill new register. "S-started?" You stammered, eyes rapidly darting between the three of them.

Chuckling in that soft, cool tone, his eyes locked onto yours as he casually unbuttoned his shirt and walked toward you. "That is what I said. You still haven't figured out which of us is the real one, am I correct?"

With wide eyes and another squeaky whine, you swallowed hard and bit your lip in excitement.

You were in for a long night.

[inhuman-obey-me]

Happy Birthday Barbatos!

Tumblr ate the quality on these so please click to see properly. <3 

HEADCANON

There are various dark shapes all over Barbatos's body, which might seem to be tattoos at first glance. However, if you really look at them, you'll notice that they are ever-shifting, gradually traveling across him or falling away. Some are dark and sharp, while others look more faded or fuzzy, but there are always a mix of them, always changing. Careful not to stare too long, or you'll find yourself hypnotized by the patterns, lost in the entrancing way they glide upon his skin.

They are not tattoos at all, he explains, but rather shadows of other worlds -- glimpses of moments from other timelines and universes making themselves known upon his form.

Accompanying (slightly steamy) fic below the cut! Or read on AO3 here.

It's late into the night already when you finally manage to shoo everyone out of the hotel room, with excuses of having to get up early for the next day of the Confectionery Expo.

Another chorus of the rowdy group shouting "Happy birthday, Barbatos!" fills the air on their way out, leaving the air feeling cheerful, if now empty.

"My apologies, MC, I should have realized that you were growing tired. Or," the birthday demon says with a politely deferential smile as he comes up behind you to close the door after them, "was there some other reason you wanted them all gone?"

Ooh, cheeky bastard. You were trying to be coy about it, but of course Barbatos is too sharp not to have noticed.

You place a hand lightly on his chest, playing with the buttons on his shirt and batting your lashes coquettishly at him. "Well...I'm not the only one who was kind of excited that there's only one bed in here, am I?"

With a chuckle, he gently removes your hand from his shirt, and for a moment, you worry you might have done something wrong. You'd both been saying that you were happy for the time alone all day, but maybe you had misread things? Were you being too forward?

But no, he's removed your hand so he can undo the buttons himself. "No, I'll confess I was not particularly disappointed either. I wouldn't often have such an opportunity back at the Demon Lord's Castle, I suppose." Gloved fingers tilt your face upwards to meet his eyes. "We'll have to make the most of it."

He catches your lips in a kiss, guiding your hand back onto him. You quickly slide the silky smooth material of his now-open shirt off his shoulders, exploring his usually covered-up frame until your fingers find his and he presses you and your intertwined hands back against the door.

When he finally draws back, you gasp in surprise at the sight.

Given the modesty of his usual butler garb, you hadn't really seen much of his skin before -- and you hadn't quite been expecting to see every inch of the prim and proper servant's torso covered in darkly patterned tattoos. And are they...moving?

He chuckles softly at your surprise and steps back a bit for you to better take it all in. "Not what you were expecting?"

"I don't know what I was expecting," you answer absently, too drawn in by the way the shadows glide slowly across him. Different patterns move in different directions, overlapping and coming undone as they travel, and you yourself feel like you're coming undone at watching them. "What...are they? Tattoos?"

"Not quite," he smiles. "They're shadows."

"Shadows?" you repeat.

Without thinking, you reach a hand out to trace the designs. They're smooth upon his skin, and true to his description, they feel a little bit colder on the darkest parts. Some seem to be patterned in sharply angled lines, while others flow freely in rounded tendrils. They glide across his body at different speeds, seemingly disappearing in random places at times, as others shimmer into existence elsewhere to take their place.

"Yes, shadows. Of other universes. They are from other timelines, you see," he explains, sounding a bit amused. "That one you're touching now is from a far off timeline that long since branched, in which the Demon King never retired to sleep. As the Young Master never took power in that world, conflict is ongoing between the realms, and so a group of lesser demons has surrounded a young angel, where your finger is resting. They will soon destroy and devour the angel, for many of the lesser demons in this world often go hungry."

Now that he's explained it, you're able to make out the abstract shapes of the scene a bit more clearly. Just as he described, a figure in the center morphs, a vague shape of wings bursting out before other silhouettes in the scene pounce upon it, tearing it to shreds. You follow the lines with your fingers, brushing lightly across his shoulder until the shapes lead you to his back, where they disappear.

Gently, he tips your gaze back to his face. "Careful, my love. They'll draw you in if you don't look away," he whispers.

Blushing a little at having gotten so distracted by the shadowy shapes, you quickly close the distance between you, and he pulls you into another long kiss.

It's not long before he undoes your shirt as well, and leads you back towards the bed, sitting you both down at the edge. A tingle runs down your spine at the feeling of his skin against yours, occasional colder spots leaving chilly caresses upon your body as the shadowy shapes travel across his.

You lean down to tuck a few light kisses upon his neck, and the tendrils of another tattoo-like shadow flit down to meet your lips. It tickles a bit, and you can't help but let out a giggle at the sensation. "What's this?" you murmur, running your fingers over the spot as you take the moment as an opportunity to catch your breath a little.

"A phantombeak avocet - a rare Devildom bird - building a nest," he answers, running his fingers through your hair. "They're quite famous for their long...beaks." His breath catches slightly on the last word as you mischievously dive back in to plant another kiss upon the spot on his neck.

Amused at having elicited such a reaction from the normally never surprisable butler, you decide to continue asking him about the shapes as you travel down his body.

"What about this one?" you ask, brushing your lips teasingly over his collarbone, where one set of thin, twisting black lines disappears into another.

"A snake, slithering into a cave to find its next meal," he hums in response.

You slide your fingers further down, tracing the sharp edges of another group of lines just above his abdomen. "And this one?" you ask. The lines of this set are dark, though thin, and look like a set of triangles.

He frowns slightly. "That one is a bit of a grisly scene, in a timeline much closer to this one. Another couple staying in this same room, but one of them has just discovered the other's...indiscretions. What you see there is his hand, wrapped around a knife. His lover won't survive the night, I'm afraid."

"Oh!" Your face pales, and you quickly pull your hand back, but he chuckles at your reaction.

"Not to worry, they're far from us even if the timeline is close. But," he says, rolling you over down onto the bed, the breath of his next whispered words tickling against your ear, "let us set the shadows aside for now, hmm, my love? You've been running your lips and fingers all over me the whole night. I do believe it's my turn."

[aenaxes-moved]

reverie

[crosshair x f!reader] kashyyyk is beautiful at night. crosshair takes advantage of the moment of peace to sneak away. you follow.

warnings: none, just some snoggin’ with cross (you can technically read this as gn!reader if you disregard the petname)

w/c: 2.2k

a/n: NO SPOILERS! this is me coping with the current crosshair situation :’-) i wanted to explore his softer side because dammit he’s got feelings (he might be a little out of character but my house my rules heheh)

“Nice hideout you have going on.”

“Had,” Crosshair corrects without looking up, too focused on carefully wrapping a rag around the scope of his firepuncher laid carefully across his lap.

Had you heard him speak one short year ago, when you were fresh out of GARMC orientation and shunted straight onto the Marauder, you would have certainly taken the sniper’s curtness for frigidity. And you had, for your first few months with Clone Force 99, taken his flat intonation and pointed tone with a timid squeak every time he’d come in for a bacta patch or hypodermic needle.

But things were different, now.

There is no deflated resignation that he’s been discovered, hidden a good few paces away from where Tech sits entranced by the wizened green Jedi master. Nor is there icy snarl curling at the edges of his lips, that you might deign to interrupt his alone time with Darling (nobody got between Crosshair with a microfiber cloth and Darling, not even Wrecker). Instead, he acknowledges you in his cool nonchalance, beckoning in the most backhanded of ways. You grin, seizing your welcome and ducking under a thick loop of vine into the small clearing where he sits perched on a boulder.

“Was Master Yoda talking too much?” you laugh, dropping down onto the balls of your feet as you peer up at Crosshair (who still won’t tear his laser focus from polishing over the dark metal of his rifle). You wrap your arms around your knees and grin when he groans.

“General Yoda is fine; it’s Tech that keeps prattling on with him,” Crosshair mutters, scrubbing a touch more aggressively at the base of the scope.

“Oh, Cross, let him have his fun,” you chide playfully, finally earning you a disdainful glance and a raised brow. “It’s not every day that you get to interrogate one of the oldest sentient beings in the galaxy.”

“Did you just call the general old?” Crosshair snorts, flipping his toothpick from one corner of his mouth to the other.

“Crosshair, how dare you accuse me like that!”

“You said it,” he shrugs, and you catch a glimpse of a fleeting smile before he turns his head back down, away, towards his rifle.

You huff, and for a moment after, there’s silence. Mostly because you know that even your best retort would be effortlessly shot down, but in part to just indulge, to look quietly at the ornery sniper you’ve come to call a dear friend, to take in him and all of his tall, confident quietude. You both know that he knows what you’re doing, drinking him in, but he says nothing every time.

It’s in these brief reveries that you catch him in his softest, purest, state, methodically cleaning the firepuncher, disassembling, reassembling, replaying the soothing knowledge and practice that every piece had its rightful place. Things would align. Even with his chin turned down, his features nearly obscured by the shadows of the jungle canopy, there’s just enough light yet to make out the slight upward turn of his lips, a wry smile around his toothpick as he unclips his scope.

“So why are you here?”

The daydream is broken, and you flicker your eyes up to his with an embarrassed cough when you notice he’s been staring back. And if his smug half-smile has anything to say, it’s a triumphant and coy I caught you.

“Well,” you laugh, quietly pushing down the rising heat high in your neck. “I wanted to try to see the night sky on Kashyyyk before we leave, but I’m too scared to go alone.” You plaster on the sickliest of smiles you can, batting your lashes up at Crosshair in the way that would have Wrecker at your beck and call in seconds, but one that you know has no effect on his brother.

“Bullshit.” Crosshair rolls his eyes, but he’s already snapping the scope back onto Darling and sliding down from his perch. “Only things in the galaxy you’re scared of are porgs,” he says as he fastens his rifle into his pack and slings one strap over his shoulder, offering his free hand down to you.

“They—they have weirdly sentient eyes, okay!” you snap a bit hotly. You blame the warmth blooming across your cheeks on the fact that only Crosshair knows about your fear of the terrifying little fellows, not that he’s squeezing your hand and hefting you onto your feet.

“Why not ask Wrecker to take you?” Crosshair asks, letting go of your hand—to your relief and dismay all at once—and brush off whatever undergrowth sits dusted over your shoulders. “He’s sappy.”

“He’s busy making friends with the Wookiees.” And butchering Shyriiwook while he did it.

“And Hunter?”

“He’s also making friends with the Wookiees.” It’s not entirely untrue, if learning how to whittle blades out of branches counted as friendly bonding.

“Echo?”

“Also... making friends... with the Wookiees.”

You both know Echo has probably long since fallen asleep after a dose of painkillers for his fall during a particularly messy bit of the firefight. You could have actually told Crosshair the truth, but a part of you won’t take your chances—depending on Crosshair’s mood, he’d send you back to wake up his newest brother and return to shining up the stock of his rifle. But instead of calling your bluff, Crosshair simply shakes his head and sighs, extending his hand to you.

Mind suddenly and miserably blank, you stare mutely at his outstretched palm, an offering, then up at him.

“Come on, you said you were scared,” Crosshair teases, a lazy, sloping smirk curved over his features. He beckons you with a single flick of his fingers. Smug bastard, you think.

“My hero,” you snark back, but you’re quick to close the distance. Even if it takes bearing a bit of his snide sideswipes, you’re surprised at how easy it is to set aside your headstrong pride and simper for the sniper’s attention (though he’s giving it much more freely than you had anticipated). Palm to palm, the cool fabric of his blacks between you, you secure your grip around him as snug as you can.

Crosshair leads you quietly through the underbrush, going so far as to lift drooping vines and push aside especially tall ferns for you, all the while keeping as secure a grip on your hand as your grip on his.

It’s comforting, even while tamping through the darkness. You trust all of his brothers with your life, but maybe, just maybe, you trust Crosshair just that much more as he leads you deeper into the jungle.

After an short trek, you arrive at another clearing, the ground barren and drier than the damp, brush heavy terrain you had come to know during the Kashyyyk campaign. It’s no bigger than the armory floor spread on the Marauder, but as Crosshair pulls you into the clearing, you realize it’s not the earth beneath your feet that commands your wonder.

Crosshair nods his chin up, and your eyes are quick to follow. It’s the pearlescent glow of the three moons high above the treetops, shining clear and soft down through the canopy skylight.

Two moons float above in the bluish gray darkness of the galaxy, the third moon peeking from behind a few trees, in between them, a delicate freckling of stars, twinkling planets, comets ambling quietly through space. You’re barely aware of the grin spreading across your face as you soak in the night sky. It’s everything you had hoped it would be.

And with Crosshair at your side, it’s just that much more.

“Found it while I was scouting,” Crosshair’s voice comes, soft through the ambient silence of the jungle. Even in your rapture, you can feel his eyes on you, lingering on the green earth and watching your wonder far up in the sky.

“It’s amazing,” you breathe, and you squeeze his hand. You tear your eyes away from the starscape above to meet Crosshair with a smile. “Thank you, Cross.”

The sniper is quiet as you meet his gaze, trained on you with an indiscernible expression, a depth in his dark eyes you have only seen once before when you caught a glimpse of him at the helm, looking quietly into the expanse of space laid out before him.

It’s peace, you decide. A stillness, a calm, the quietest respite in the midst of this war. You gently rub over his knuckles.

“Close your eyes, y/n,” Crosshair finally murmurs, barely above a whisper, his gaze unwavering. And your eyes are already fluttered shut when you hear something hit the underbrush and a crunch of dirt under his boot as he steps forward and loops an arm around your waist. You squeeze your eyes shut a bit tighter as you press up against the battle-worn plastoid of his chestplate and feel his fingers splay over your hip.

Warm, rough fingertips gently pinch your chin and tilt your head up just so. A soft breeze wafts over your cheeks, carrying with it the woody musk and cloying pollen of the forest around you, and it is in that moment that you realize that he had dropped his glove onto the forest floor, had left it there and chosen to hold you in his bare hand, smoothing his thumb over your skin.

“There’s a good girl.”

The only warning you get is a ghost of a breath gently exhaled onto your skin before there is warmth, pulled close and steady and sweet as Crosshair gently tugs on your bottom lip.

He’s soft, you think mindlessly through the blissful haze between your ears. You faintly register the taste of the lavender balm you had bought him planetside on Crucival as he trails his hand up from your hip, over the dip in your back, and up to cup the base of your neck, pulling you closer.

All that teething’ll dry you out you had told him, and he’d scoffed something along the lines of soldiers—especially clones—not needing or wanting luxury goods. And yet you taste the telltale floral notes on his skin. You foggily wonder if he keeps the little tin on his ammunition belt as he kneads firm, steady fingers into your neck. You’ll gloat about it later.

There’s lavender, and then you taste him, just a trace, when he drags his tongue over the plush skin of your lips. At some point, you’ve brought your hands up to curl at the base of his head, threading through neatly cropped silver strands, and you part your lips. Finally, finally you can taste him on your own tongue.

He’s battle weary, laced with the slightest tang of synthetic wood treatment bleached into his toothpicks, anxiety bitten and jaw clenched. But here, now, only the faint residues of that tension remain in his impossibly gentle, unhurried motions. Running his thumb from your chin to the corner of your jaw, he tugs, tilting your head and gently tugging your tongue into his mouth.

Warmth blooms through your chest, steady and soft, a pulsar light glowing through the darkness, and you pull him closer.

He pulls away first, if only by virtue of your fervent wish that this moment might never end, nipping lightly your bottom lip in parting. And when the heat radiating off his skin is no longer close enough to warm you in the cool forest night, you slowly open your eyes, hoping that you won't wake to the durasteel ceiling of your bunk glaring down on you.

It's not a dream, Maker bless.

Crosshair stands before you, barely half an arm's length away and already flicking another toothpick between his lips as he smiles, open and soft in the moonlight. Without his persistent scowl, his piercing gaze, he looks so, so achingly young. And, if only for a moment, free of the burdens of war. Just a simple man bathing in the starlight in the jungles of Kashyyyk.

He's beautiful.

"Hi, Cross," you whisper, voice doing little to hide your lingering daze, and you watch, eyes wide with starry wonder, as Crosshair shakes with quiet laughter, eyes closed and shoulders sloped low.

"Hi, y/n," he chuckles. He fixes you with another unreadable look, this one different from the first. It's softer and mellow, vibrant in thrumming waves of bliss, content.

But before you can decide, he reaches down to pick his glove off of the jungle floor, tapping off the dirt on his hip and then, without hesitation, stuffing it into his ammunition belt. There's a brief flash of purplish metal in the pocket he chooses. The balm. You were right.

He catches your astonishment with a soft huff and clips the pocket shut.

"All that teething does dry me out," he teases, but there is only quiet acknowledgement, gracious and still as he extends his ungloved hand to you in the waning moonlight.

You stare at him, dumbstruck.

"The general probably knows we're gone. Come on," Crosshair's smile shifts, assuming a much more familiar smirk to accompany the sharp, snarky lilt that washes over him. He flicks his fingers at you, rolling his toothpick between his teeth. "Be a good girl for me."

There's the Crosshair you know.

"You're insufferable," you mutter, the heat blazing on the tips of your ears as you duck your head. But you reach for him anyways, reveling in the slow slide of your skin over his palm, your fingers finding home intertwined with his.

"Such a good girl," he chuckles, lifting your knuckles to his lips for the barest of chaste, fleeting touches.

"I will make your next hypoderm hurt like hell," you grumble.

"Oh, I look forward to it."

[starsinmylatte]

Tease (2/2)

Our beloved reader was fed up with the lack of attention from a certain Grand Admiral. To force his hand, she decided to send some pictures to tempt him while he was away, but things didn't quite go as they were planned. Now, we see the aftermath of those events.

Tease (1/2) link here in case you haven't read it!!

Pairing: Grand Admiral Thrawn x f!reader

Rating: Explicit (18+ only) Minors DNI

Tags/warnings (for part 1): lingerie, m@sturbation, dom/sub relationship, y'all this is filth, oral sex (f receiving), p in v sex (please practice safe sex irl), authority kink

Word count: 4k (I got a little... ok, a lot... carried away)

bat in’a- beautiful one

ch'eo ch'itiseb- my sweet

ch’eo vir- my dear

cseo cssah bat- so very beautiful

cseo ch’itrico- so hungry

cseo tsaco- so tight

You had known that you were in trouble, but you realized the true extent of how completely and utterly kriffed you were on the morning Thrawn returned to the Chimaera.

Clue number one: he didn’t spare you as much as a single glance when he entered the bridge. Usually, Thrawn would make a point to have at least one small moment of inconspicuous eye contact as a greeting, but not today. Today he didn’t spare so much as a glance in your general direction.

The second clue was far more direct; a simple note sent through the encrypted channel.

Wear it tonight.

Some small part of you hoped the video would finally push the calm, distinguished Grand Admiral over the edge. He was always a generous lover, that being somewhat of a massive understatement, but you could tell he was holding something back. During your most intimate moments, you could see it. Something sharp, dark, and glittering rose to the surface, and Thrawn pushed it away every time.

What would Thrawn be like if he fully let go? That thought sent delicious shivers down your spine, and his final audio message played on repeat in your head.

“Ch’eo ch’itiseb, you know you really shouldn’t tease me like this.”

Thrawn’s voice was normally a seductive purr, but that audio message…. It embodied the dark edge of him you had been longing to experience.

You felt your core clench as you desperately tried to re-focus on the screen in front of you, but an all-too-familiar presence suddenly appeared behind you. All of your racing thoughts screeched to a halt as that same smooth voice you were fantasizing about was now whispering in your ear. “Bat in’a….”

Thrawn’s warm breath was caressing your neck, raising goosebumps, and sending a chill down your spine. Your breath hitched almost imperceptively as he continued, “I see your gift fit you well; it certainly does seem like you enjoyed it.”

Your lover’s reflection was showcased on the darkened computer screen you were so intently studying. His eyes were half-lidded and blazing with barely contained desire. The knowledge that all the bridge officers were obliviously going about their duties while the most powerful man on the ship was leaned over and whispering sinful things in your ear was almost too much to handle. You had no choice but to blush and avert your gaze so you could keep some shreds of your dignity intact.

“Y… Yes, Grand Admiral. I did.” You may have been flustered, but you were feeling coy enough to tease him slightly. A “yes, sir” would have been sufficient, but you knew full well what Thrawn felt when you called him by his full title.

As if on cue, a growl so quiet and low you barely heard it emanated from the man behind you. Thrawn’s usual soft tone sharpened; the mysterious darkness resurfaced, and his perfect Imperial presentation cracked in half. The accent he worked so hard to conceal, the same one you loved to tease out of him, now marred his words. “Careful, Commander, if you want to be able to walk tomorrow, I suggest you close that pretty little mouth.”

Your mouth shut so fast on reflex that your teeth clacked together. His tone was utterly predatory; Thrawn, usually so prim and composed, sounded like he was moments away from ordering everyone off the bridge so he could fuck you now. But, stars, you’d be lying if you said you weren’t fantasizing about it now.

Your naked body flushed with desire, pressed up against the icy cold transparisteel of the viewport, and presented to the galaxy by your lover. Thrawn commanding your body as masterfully as he does his flagship, pushing you right up to the edge of completion before withdrawing, edging you over and over again until you can barely stand on your own. His muscular body pinning you in place against the wall, hell-bent on making you rely only on him for support, as he fucks you mercilessly from behind. Thrawn’s thick, ridged cock splitting you open and hitting spots so deep you see new stars appear in the galaxy with every thrust. The curved transparisteel to your side showing a perfect reflection of your bodies intertwining as Thrawn pulls your head aside to kiss and nip at your neck……..

Your blush turned at least three shades deeper as you shoved the thoughts aside. Thank the stars that most of the officers were gathered around a terminal on the other side of the bridge, or they would undoubtedly know exactly what was occurring between the Grand Admiral of the Imperial Navy and his Commander.

Like flipping a switch, Thrawn’s cool, Imperial tone resurfaced in an instant. “Apologies, ch’eo ch’itiseb, I have distracted you from your duties for too long.

Wordlessly, you watched him straighten, pick an invisible speck of lint off his already pristine jacket, and resume his usual impassive expression. The blue bastard had the nerve to walk away and leave you flustered in the middle of the command bridge as if nothing had even happened. As he walked away, you saw the barest hint of a smirk ghost across his face. He wasn’t sorry at all.

-----------

The rest of the day crawled by. Thrawn obviously had some plan for the evening, but not knowing the details meant the suspense was absolutely eating you alive. You managed to slog through the rest of your day without any major inconveniences, but as soon as it ended, you nearly ran to your quarters to prepare.

After showering and letting your hair dry, you turned your attention to what you would wear. Of course, Thrawn’s request that you wear the lacy, red set was a given, but you couldn’t exactly walk down the hallways of the Chimaera in that. You decided that it would be best for your trip to Thrawn’s office to seem like it was purely one of the extra duties you were finishing. You put on one of your looser fitting uniforms, hoping to hide the lines of the lingerie, and tied your hair back into its usual bun before leaving.

When you finally arrived at Thrawn’s office, the door slid open with a cool hiss of hydraulics as soon as you reached for your comm. You laughed softly to yourself. Well, he was definitely anticipating my arrival.

As you stepped through the door, you saw Thrawn’s back as he leaned over his desk. He seemed to be watching something quite intently, and as you kept walking forward, you began to hear hints of quiet audio. Before you reached his side, Thrawn paused what he was watching and turned his head to acknowledge you. A dangerous smile played across his lips, “Commander, I was hoping you’d be here soon. You are just in time for my favorite part.”

You raised an eyebrow and shot him a questioning glance, “What… what do you mean?”

His smile widened enough to show off his pointed teeth, “I do believe you should know exactly what I’m referring to because you played a starring role in it, ch'eo ch'itiseb.”

At that moment, you felt your soul leave your body. Kriffing sith hells, he saved it.

You didn’t think it was possible for his smug smile to get any bigger, but it did. “Oh, bat in’a, of course, I would save something so… artfully done.”

Thrawn stepped aside, and you were greeted by a projection of your video displayed between the other holos of priceless artwork on his desk. It was stopped at a very particular moment; you reclined on his bed with your legs spread open. One hand rested on your thigh, and the other was settled on your chest.

You opened your mouth to say something, but before you could, Thrawn hit a button, and the video continued to play. Breathlessly, you watched as your head lolled to the side, and Thrawn’s name left your lips in a broken moan. One of your hands pushed the lace aside to slip two fingers deep inside your cunt, and the other rolled a peaked nipple between your fingers.

A pang of lust immediately overcame any embarrassment you felt in the moment as you realized exactly what Thrawn must’ve felt when watching the video. Even though you had intended for the circumstance to be slightly different, it must’ve absolutely killed him to be away from you for that night and the several days following it.

Before you could react, Thrawn had closed the remaining distance and pinned your back against the wall. He leaned in to lavish his attention on the shell of your ear and whispered, “Naughty little thing….. teasing a Grand Admiral of the Imperial Navy like that. I could’ve canceled the trip to come back and fuck you, but then I would have been giving in. You obviously need to learn a lesson in patience.”

One of his powerful hands pulled your wrists above your head and roughly pinned them to the wall. A gasp fell from your open lips and your legs involuntarily clenched together as your cunt throbbed with desire. Watching the video had already lit a familiar fire in you, but now you could feel your arousal beginning to soak the thin, lacy material of your panties. Thrawn’s already wicked smile turned feral, and he forced his thigh between your legs. He grabbed your jaw and tilted your face up to look at him.

“Ch'eo ch'itiseb,” he cooed, “you don’t get any relief quite yet. You were so eager to tease me with that video, but now it’s my turn. Tonight, I get to take my time with you.”

As if to prove his point, Thrawn flexed and shifted his muscular thigh, so a hard ridge of muscle lined up perfectly with your clit. “It’s what you deserve, after all, for trying to tease me. You looked drunk with your own imagined power, writhing in my bed and begging for me…..”

All you could do was whimper at his sinful words as he tilted your face to the side again. You let out a low groan as Thrawn pulled the collar of your uniform aside and lavished all of his attention at the juncture of your neck and shoulder, taking turns sucking and kissing until he had left a noticeable mark. He hummed in approval at his work before trailing a line of kisses up the column of your neck, only to immediately double back and follow the line with his tongue.

Thrawn was the definition of commanding as he gazed down on you, already keening from his touch. He clicked his tongue in a mockingly disapproving manner as he moved his hand to trace the outline of the hickey. “Such a needy little whore for me. Maybe I should mark you up, so everyone knows you’re taken.”

He trailed a long, graceful finger up the side of your neck as if deciding exactly where to claim you next before stopping at the tender pulse point below your jaw. “I think here, to start.”

Another breathless whimper left your mouth as you tried to grind against his thigh, searching desperately for any purchase you could find, but Thrawn just pushed you harder into the wall, leaving you unable to move at all. “A visible mark on a pretty thing like you will have the whole ship wondering who owns this precious cunt.”

Thrawn paused to capture your lips in an all-consuming kiss that further ignited the flame burning deep in your core. By now, your panties were completely soaked through; arousal was beginning to trail down your leg, and your lover hadn’t even taken your clothes off yet.

The barest hint of the friction you were desperate for and his sinful words made you melt further into his embrace as you made another futile attempt to grind against his thigh. “P-Please… Thrawn... I need you to touch me. Take my clothes off. Anything.”

His silken voice was infuriatingly smooth, and it was apparent Thrawn was enjoying his revenge. “Well, bat in’a, you begged so sweetly for me, and now here I am. You’re going to get everything you asked for, but I decide how much you get and when to give it. Maybe my little dove will know better than to tease me after her own lesson in patience is completed.”

Thrawn swiftly stepped backward, and your knees crumpled at the sudden lack of support. He reached out and gracefully caught you; one of his strong arms wrapped around your waist, and you felt the other behind your knees. Before you even fully realized it, your lover had quite literally swept you off your feet and was carrying you towards his private quarters. Thrawn’s burning eyes met your lust-addled gaze, and his smug smile returned, “Already weak at the knees for me, ch’eo vir?”

You opened your mouth to respond, but at that moment, your back hit the silken black sheets of his bed. If the unexpected fall hadn’t taken your breath away, the sight of Thrawn’s powerful form leaning over you absolutely would’ve. Even fully clothed, you could see the hard lines of his muscles shift and move beneath his uniform. His arousal was becoming more apparent by the second as his thick cock strained against the fabric of his pants. You wanted to feel its heavy weight in your mouth so badly you had to bite your bottom lip to stifle a moan.

Thrawn curled his long fingers beneath your chin and traced his thumb over your plush lips, “Open your pretty little mouth for me; I want to hear every single sweet sound you make tonight.”

When you complied, he slipped the calloused digit inside to rest on top of your tongue. You met his gaze again as you licked up the underside of his thumb before briefly closing your mouth to suck on it.

Thrawn let out a groan that trailed off into a low growl. Removing his thumb, he leaned down for another kiss. The first brush of his lips was almost reverent in its gentleness, but that soon gave way to searing passion. Thrawn’s hunger for you seemed to grow as his teeth nipped at your bottom lip, seeking permission to deepen your embrace. You yielded to him completely, hands reaching to cup Thrawn’s face as his soft, breathy moans mixed with your own until he pulled away.

“Thrawn…..” you protested at the sudden loss of contact.

“You would do well to remember that tonight is about you learning patience,” he admonished as his fingers sought the closure of your uniform. “For now, I wish to see you.”

The air in his bedroom seemed to fill with electricity as he slowly undid your uniform jacket. Every so often, his fingers would barely graze your skin as they worked away at the fastenings, raising goosebumps and sending a thrill down your spine at the anticipation of each touch.

As soon as the last clasp fell open, Thrawn leaned back to admire you. “Look at you….” his tone of voice was reverent as he trailed his fingers across your décolletage, “cseo cssah bat.”

You arched into his touch, encouraging him to remove the rest of your uniform. Thrawn tossed the clothing unceremoniously to the side and pulled the pins from your hair, letting it fall and frame your face. One of his hands reached down to tangle itself in your hair. “You look just like you did in the video,” he cooed, “tell me, are you as hungry for my touch now?”

“Yesyes, please, Thrawn. Please touch me,” you pleaded.

His red eyes blazed at the desire in your voice, “remove my clothes, then.”

You eagerly started to unfasten his white uniform shirt, drawing a short chuckle from the normally reserved Chiss. “Cseo ch’itrico...”

Each exposed inch of Thrawn’s beautiful skin spurred the movement of your hands until his jacket lay open and his muscular chest was on full display. Now, it was finally your turn to touch him. Your fingers trailed hungrily down the center of his chest over hard lines of muscle and old scars to hook into the waistband of his pants. Finally, he shrugged the jacket off and threw it to the side to join the growing pile of clothes.

In one fluid motion, Thrawn pulled you up and into his lap. Being this close to him was absolutely intoxicating; the chill of his quarters combined with the warmth of his body and his deep, masculine scent was enough to send your head reeling. His hands continued their previous mission, trailing over your body, studying you as he would any of the priceless art pieces he was so fond of. They paid special attention to your breasts, rubbing your peaked nipples through the fabric. You couldn’t help but whimper at the delicious sensation, “mmmmhThrawn…..”

“Does that feel good?” he murmured into your ear before rolling his hips upwards, driving his erection against your core. You cried out in pleasure as he leaned forward to press a searing kiss on the soft swell of your breast. Your hands sought purchase in his hair as he bit the tender spot before soothing the sting with his tongue, leaving yet another mark on you.

Thrawn’s hand trailed down to drag two fingers over your clothed cunt, growling in approval as he discovered the thin garment was already completely soaked. He moved the strip of lace aside and repeated the movement before circling your clit, drawing more desperate cries from you. All the teasing combined with the anticipation from earlier already had you nearing your first orgasm. Then, without warning, Thrawn thrust two fingers deep inside, and you shattered with his name on your lips.

He let out his own moan at the sensation of your cunt milking his fingers as he fucked you through your orgasm. “Needy little thing, how many times are you going to cum for me tonight?”

Thrawn held his fingers up for you to see. Stars, your arousal was dripping down them. “Commander, you made a mess. It’s only proper you should clean up after yourself.” The mock-disapproval was back in his voice as he pressed them to your lips.

Your cheeks flushed at his words as you took the fingers into your mouth and sucked them clean. Thrawn leaned in for another kiss, “Don’t worry, I’ll have my own taste soon enough.”

He laid you back down and moved to kneel at the base of the bed, pulling your hips to the edge. You slid easily through the silken sheets, grasping them for stability as you felt Thrawn’s hot breath on the inside of your thigh. Once again, he languidly pressed open-mouthed kisses to the soft skin before sucking deep bruises into the tender flesh, murmuring quiet praises in Cheunh between each one. The kisses trailed higher and higher until his mouth was pressed intently against your soaked core.

He gently sucked at your clit before sliding his tongue in to taste you. Your grip on the sheets tightened as he devoured you like a starving man, drinking you in and bring you closer and closer to ruin as he held your hips in an iron grip. You ground against his mouth, desperately chasing your second orgasm as he returned to sucking your clit. He let out a low growl of approval at your desperation, and the vibrating sensation on his lips pushed you screaming over the edge.

Again, Thrawn fucked you through your orgasm before raising his face to look you in the eyes. The calm, composed Grand Admiral was long gone. Pieces of his dark hair had fallen into his face, which shined with your arousal. His red eyes were half-lidded but smoldering with unrestrained lust. “You’ll give me another,” he demanded, returning his attention to your cunt.

For the second time that night, he pushed two fingers deep inside, seeking the spongy spot that would turn you into even more of an incoherent mess. You whined at the feeling of overstimulation, but you were just as hungry for him as he was for you. Thrawn moved back up to ravish your neck with more kisses while he slipped a third finger inside. The wet sounds they made would have been deeply embarrassing to you under any other circumstance, but the noises only encouraged your lover. “Tell me, ch’eo ch’itiseb, were you this wet when it was your own fingers inside of you?”

He gave a particularly rough thrust and grinned wickedly, “I don’t recall your cunt being this musical in the video.”

You were in such a blissful, fucked-out state that it was nearly impossible to form any words, but somehow you managed to speak, “Thrawnnnnn…. pleasepleaseplease…... need you inside me now.”

It was altogether too much. You came hard, soaking the sheets underneath you and drawing a pleased growl from Thrawn.

This time, he withdrew his fingers immediately, leaving your cunt spasming in his absence. Again, you protested weakly, but the sight of him finally removing his pants immediately stopped your complaints. It was a sight you’d never tire of, one you could appreciate even when you were this far gone. Thrawn was breathtaking; his lithe, muscular body had been sculpted from a lifetime of training and discipline. His cock was equally beautiful, large and thick, with pronounced ridges running along the side. He looked like a figure from one of his paintings as he walked towards you, a god of war hell-bent on making you his greatest conquest.

All need for words was long gone as he returned to the bed. Thrawn was as desperate as you; he ripped through the thin, lacy material in his way and trailed his cock along your slit, coating it with your combined arousal. He entered you in one swift movement, and the word fell away. You felt the delicious stretch of him, teasing the line between pleasure and pain as he began to fuck you at a relentless pace. With each snap of hips, yours rose to match the pace, and you saw stars. Thrawn tangled his hands in your hair and pulled you into an all-consuming kiss. He greedily captured each moan, every sigh that fell from your lips. Your fourth orgasm was quickly on the way, and you could tell that your lover wasn’t far behind.

All of the earlier teasings seemed to have affected him as much as they affected you. Thrawn pulled your hips upwards, and the new angle sent him deeper and deeper with each thrust. You felt this tip of his cock hit so incredibly far inside that it sent you reeling as the sound of your lovemaking filled the room. The lingering pleasures from all your previous orgasms were piling on top of each other, driving you closer and closer to a final climax that you were sure would leave you unable to walk tomorrow. Thrawn locked his gaze with yours, watching tears of pleasure run down your face. “So… close….. I can feel you, cseo tsaco -so tight- around me. Cum for me once more,” he commanded with the barest hint of desperation in his voice.

That was all the encouragement you needed before the most intense orgasm of your entire life swept over you. You bit down hard on the juncture of Thrawn’s neck and shoulder to keep from screaming his name loudly enough to tell the entire crew of the Chimaera exactly what was happening. He exhaled sharply as he continued to ride out your orgasm, but the feeling of your cunt greedily clenching around his cock was too much. Thrawn came with a groan, coating your walls with his seed as his pace slowed to a halt.

Your spent bodies fell on the bed together in the afterglow. Thrawn remained inside of you, and you enjoyed the closeness as you felt him soften. He pulled you into a tight embrace, placing a tender kiss on your temple as he softly smiled. “I missed you too, bat in’a.”

Tagging some friends: @pala-din-djarin @handbaskethell @mittheresabosen @pretty-with-andorian-shingles @bluecynadi @ele-millennial-weirdo @mysticalgalaxysalad @rebelpitstop @jedi-mando @tibbietibbs @rexsjaigeyes @anna-the-godkiller @erinsusername @myevilmouse

[haechanhues]

Like Unrequited IV

Part ONE | Part TWO | Part THREE | Part FOUR 

pairing : heeseung x fem!reader / sunghoon x fem!reader 

genre : angst/fluff. bulleted. 

warnings : hmm, swearing. a little bit of a scuffle. 

summary : where the curse of unrequited is given to another. 

It was almost night time when you and Sunghoon dawdled into a Subway together 

Hungry from just walking through the city 

Getting to talk to each other about the randomest things 

Playing little games 

Not letting go of his hands once 

You didn’t really want to

His hands felt nice in yours and after the shittiest couple of months you just had 

You wanted to be selfish 

You wanted to hold a hot guy’s hand when the air was getting colder, roaming around and being the teenager all those Pinterest boards motivated you for 

He pressed his lips together as he recognised the music playing 

He turned towards you 

Pumped up on the adrenaline of the cool air outside 

You picked out the cookies you wanted to try 

Collecting almost a baker’s dozen 

You turned towards him to ask a question 

It wasn’t really important anyway 

Because when you looked at where he was sitting 

He was smiling at you, wiggling his eyebrows and shimmying his shoulders to the beat a little 

You danced a little in reply 

And it felt like all the possible magic in the world surrounded you in this moment 

Time wasn’t really time 

You had felt a similar type of way once (with Heeseung) but this was different 

You truly felt it this time 

There was no fear of rejection or fear of the unknown 

You didn’t really care 

Not with Sunghoon anyway 

You grabbed the cookies with a sweet smile which was surprisingly returned from the owner 

You still wore it as you approached Sunghoon 

‘What are you smiling at?’ 

Sunghoon asked, his expression somehow mirroring yours 

You decide to be brave 

‘You.’ 

‘Me?’ 

‘You.’ 

He licked his lips, grasping your hand in his again and braving the cold wind together 

The two of you were acting all mushy when you returned through the school doors 

It wasn’t as free as being outside at night time was but- you two were stuck together  

Your friends watched you both in the corner of their eye but didn’t say anything

However 

Ryujin being Ryujin 

Made a comment about it 

‘This....This is feeling a little grosser. More sappy if you get what I mean. So are you dating yet or what?’ 

It went a little quiet 

Uhm 

You both looked at each other 

And didn’t say a single word 

Ryujin raised her eyebrows and chuckled a little before staring at the little shit in the corner 

.. 

She grabbed Heeseung’s collar and yanked him upright 

‘Oi, get up, you sick bastard’ 

Ryujin pulled him to the side whilst he grimaced at his messed up clothes 

She stood in front of him 

‘You fucked up didn’t you?’ 

He pursed his lips 

‘Don’t you know about it already?’ 

‘No, Y/N knows I’d fuck you up if you did something wrong.’ 

‘Then how come-’ 

‘I can tell by your face, and the fact you’re sulking in the fucking corner.’ 

‘I just- I don’t know what I’m feeling and she’s with Sunghoon all the time and I feel like I’m losing her and it’s driving me crazy, Ryujin’ 

‘Is it possible that you’ve liked her this whole time?’ 

‘That’s crazy. If I liked her, I would be dating her by now.’ 

Ryujin sighed 

‘I doubt it. I don’t think you even realise that you didn’t actually like that girl.’ 

‘- Okay fair point. But I think if I liked Y/N, I would know, at least.’ 

‘....Think of it this way, Imagine dating me.’ 

Heeseung shivered 

‘No thanks.’ 

‘You don’t have to be a bitch about it.’ 

‘Sorry but’ 

He clenched his teeth together 

‘See? And how did you reject Y/N? Did you even think about what she was saying to you? Did you let yourself actually process it and make a decision actually based on your feelings?’ 

Heeseung nodded, barely looking at her 

‘So stop the bullshit.’ 

‘You’ve liked her this whole time and it’s time for you to realise what you could’ve had.’ 

‘I could still have it.’ 

He was adamant but not confident 

‘You could’ 

Ryujin admitted

‘But, for now, you can’t.’

She offered a sweet smile as she said he next words 

‘I won’t tell you I was rooting for you, because I wasn’t, not really. None of these boys are deserving of her. But I guess you’re marginally tolerable. A little less tolerable than Sunghoon, and honestly, that relationship is a lot easier to digest. But you’re not terrible.’ 

‘Thanks’ 

Ryujin clicked her tongue as she sauntered back inside, collecting his chair to drag it back to the group. 

Where it belonged. 

Heeseung dawdled as he slid into the seat next to you where Ryujin had left it 

You were focused on what Jay was saying to you and Sunghoon looked like he was ready to punch him 

But when he finally sat down

You barely looked at him as you reached over to squeeze his wrist 

Forgiven 

Slightly 

But expected to suck up to you a lot more 

Jake poked Sunghoon’s cheek to focus on you, rather than Heeseung next to you 

It wasn’t that hard to do 

‘Ugh, you’re so whipped.’ 

‘Shut up.’ 

You pull Sunghoon dramatically into the library - ditching the last class of the day 

He looked at you confusedly before scoffing at the surroundings 

‘Is there any particular reason why you’re pulling me into the library?’ 

You pretend to ponder for a second before a grin takes over your face 

‘Just one’ 

You feel a lot less coy now, instead you’re overtaken with nervousness but not one that feared rejection 

You were determined 

A little nervous 

But fuelled by the way he was looking at you and how pretty he was 

And the boy you haven’t stopped thinking about 

Your hands find purchase on his cheeks, where you find has become a habit between the two of you in the past week or so 

He watches you with soft eyes,

He doesn’t quite know exactly what you’re doing 

But he has hope swimming behind his pupils and it drives his heart a little wild

When you press your lips against his for the first time, his heart feels like it’s going to explode out of his chest and paint the whole library red 

His hands find themselves supporting the back of your head as he leans further into you 

The movements between you are slow, sweet and almost dreamlike 

His lips are soft and when your tongues meet, it surprises you that you’re not disgusted by it 

Instead you welcome it 

He angles your head upwards with his thumbs pressing lightly on your jawline 

He smiles when he feels the heat on your cheeks and just how flushed they’ve become 

You need to breathe 

But you refuse to 

He pulls away, his eyes dancing between you both and with a giddiness 

‘At a library of all things, Y/N.’ 

You let out a real lovesick giggle as you go to pinch his elbow 

You were happy 

Sunghoon was happy 

But a boy in the corner, who had been watching the whole thing doesn’t feel the same 

Instead he feels regret, sadness, frustration 

All of it leeching of the happiness he was supposed to feel for you 

‘This is giving me a little deja vu.’ 

The voice pulls him from the scene and instead has him focusing on the boy beside him 

Heeseung has never talked to Jake properly before 

Jake is closer to Sunghoon than he is to Heeseung 

And Heeseung never felt the need to get to know him on a deeper level 

Because Heeseung had hoped that they were temporary 

‘He really likes her. You know? He may be shit stirring, he probably was. Don’t get me wrong. But he sincerely likes her. She’s in good hands.’ 

Heeseung sighs 

‘..I know that now.’ 

Jake looks at him with kindness, swirling with warmth and comfort but it had a hint of something underneath 

Warning 

‘Good.’ 

Jake reaches over, cradling Heeseung’s head in the wing of his arms 

‘If you’re up for it. I know a great place to eat.’ 

‘I’d like that.’ 

Heeseung smiles, even when he doesn’t really want to 

He looks back at the two of you 

And this is all he can do 

Just like that, like unrequited takes a new host. 

authors note : this was fun :) originally it wasn’t supposed to have this many chapters, it was just gonna be a one-shot kind of thing but idk it just had a mind of its own. :) i have a lot of confessions about this too <3 I’d probably post an authors confessions soon too. ALSO thanks for the 100 followers. 

[savnofilter]

Kinktober Day 8

dabi

☠️ warning(s): 𝕦𝕟𝕚𝕗𝕠𝕣𝕞𝕤, chikan, exhibition, voyeurism, anal, humiliation kink, age difference, con-dubcon.

☠️ genre: smut, holiday special.

☠️ words: 3k [12 minutes, 10 seconds].

☠️ read more: kinktober(uary)

☠️ summary: after a long day of university youre coerced into giving him a show... along with the rest of the passengers on the metro train.

It was almost perverse on how much he enjoyed this. Scratch that, it is perverse. It was the hidden secret that even with leaving his old lifestyle he fucked his younger sister’s best friend. None of his family knew of his existence for a million reasons that weren’t going to be met in this story. Yet he didn’t care. As long as he had you still crawling back to him was enough to satisfy his dark desires without a care in the world. Except for the fact even with him accidentally running into you and somehow starting the dangerous entanglement was beyond him.

Just like right now. He wasn't expecting to see you pile into the train with the same uniform you wore for your school, your body begging for him to claim his prize while at the same time telling everyone to go fuck off. Dabi knew his objective as soon as he saw you, moving in to fill the missing gap you needed to be occupied. The train started to move once you got comfortable, your body posture meek as you raised your hand to hold onto the bars, the other holding your cute little school bag close to your body. Even with the clear embodiment of your school uniform dressing your shoulders and left chest it was clear you were nothing more than a university student, the only thing making you look so… delectable being the way you had filled it out.

Now, had you been someone else a stranger to Dabi he wouldn’t have looked your way but seeing as you were rocking just ever slightly, the fabric of your clothing rising just a bit higher is what piqued his interest. It gave him an almost unpleasant tenseness in his chest, knowing that this was a combo you rarely wore unless something was wrong in the laundry or it was your last backup. He didn’t miss the creeps that eyed you, his dark aura shooting them off as he made them think twice.

He’d just have to show them something that they’re missing.

Dabi stepped closer to press up against your smaller frame, the feeling of him catching you off guard. You swallowed as you could feel his body, the bumps, and ridges of his outfit signature with his familiar scent you were used to washing over you with a wave of relief, holding back the need to smile as you peeked back at him with an almost glad look on your face.

“I thought you were someone else.” You spoke fluently. He chuckled as you looked as if he had saved the day as if he wasn’t the villain between you two. He moved his head to nuzzle your neck, his hands wrapping just under your breast and pressing his hips into yours.

“You should be glad I saved you~,” Dabi remarked in a smug tone. You could feel your cheeks heat at the gesture. Whether or not the blood flow showed up on your cheeks wasn’t a concern to you at the moment, the small suspicion that his little small talk wasn’t going to end as innocently as it had started. You bit your lip as his arms aided in pressing your chest against you’re already tight button up. “Heroes get presents, right?” The pressure created a small gap to accentuate, showing bits of your bra and skin that was underneath.

“Wh-What are you doing?” You stuttered as the small attention that one time was brought away from you was slowly coming back, making you shrink back into him as your false safe haven.

“Nothing,” Dabi mumbles against the skin of your neck, the train hitting a more than convenient bump on the track. You whimpered as you rubbed your thighs together, as much you tried to hide it you loved it when people watched you like this. Even though with your attempts to dress as if the thought of sex never crossed your mind you couldn’t help but start to get aroused at the thought of Dabi using you on a train like this for perverts to watch. He chuckled as he could feel your breath start to deepen, keeping your head down as you tried to conceal yourself with the arm that carried the weight of your bag.

Dabi was starting to get bored. His hand came up to dance across the fabric of the button, playing coy before tugging the other side from the other and popping the buttons in the process. Quietly gasped once he had done so, your chest now being partly bared to the world… much to your pleasure. Your tits strained at your bra, the smooth bumps of the train not making it better for your “cause”.

“Stay still for me, doll, okay~?” He whispered against your ear, the sound of his voice making you shiver. You couldn’t help but nod meekly, not daring to look up at the mixture of disapproval and horniness that started to fill the train. His hand scooped up into your bra and brought your tits out into the public view, your nipples rock hard as you tried to keep up your little act to convince yourself you weren’t getting turned on by this.

But you were. 

The excitement alone was starting to make you drip annoying as it was.

Dabi already knowing you were, his hands left your upper body, coming up under your skirt and shirking your underwear. There was clear dampness on the thin fabric, the embarrassment of it all going straight to your clit. You whimpered as the air caressed your now exposed intimate bits. His hand came up to cup your sex, letting a sound of surprise at the feeling of your drenched lips against his fingers. “Oh? The bitch is wet~” He mused happily, slipping two fingers into you happily. The sound of his middle and ring fingers slipping into you made an obnoxious noise, your thighs quivering as his fingers were always able to find well inside your needy cunt. His fingers were quick in working in you, his main objective only to have you wet enough to take his already aching cock. Your back arched as you encouraged him to continue in using you as he pleased, his hand making a move to help open your shirt more and pull down your bra fully. Any eye who wanted to watch could, watching as this patched man toyed with this innocent girl on the train.

His fingers left your cunt to give it a small slap, not holding on to the force or ferocity of it. The feeling made you yelp, the sound of both gaining new watchers while some chose to ignore it. Your breathing was heavy as people eyed you, probably wishing that Dabi would do the world some justice and rip off the tiny skirt that you had also worn that hid all the good bits. All they could see was him teasing you and being able to use you the way you were supposed to be used.

“Come on, scarface, pass her over-”

“Fuck off and watch.” He cuts off the loser hastily, his glare glaring at them to let them know to keep away still. “You think any of you greasy fucks can touch her,” He started before he side-eyed you, his famous grin spreading across his mouth when the thought of having these bastards touch upon you was something you wanted. “Hm… maybe the bitch wants it~? Use your word’s, doll~” He taunts, turning you around so your front is pressed against him. Your bag dropped as you braced yourself against him, your legs stabling yourself against him. “If you don’t use your words I’m assuming it’s a no.”

You bit your lip as you at least wanted to keep some of your dignity. Nowhere in your life did you think you were going to be able to live out your fantasy to be used on a public train for anyone and everyone to see, the helpful tool of your mask only concealing your identity as if something was looking out for your well being… as if. His hand flipped up your skirt and exposed the last parts no one else on the train had been able to see but him. Your face buried into his neck once he did the action, your ass now on display with your dripping cunt peeking through the small gap between your legs. Dabi's hands reached back from your waist and grabbed the cheeks apart, showcasing the part between your legs and glistening cunt. He looked over your shoulder to watch as your asshole clenched in excitement, your position looking no better than a bitch in heat. There were a few mutters and mumbles as he displayed you, the original action surprising you.

“D-Dabi-” Your plea was cut off by his hand coming up and tugging your mask down and pressing his lips against yours. His tongue was already violating your mouth, growling as his hand lifted and of slaps against your unmarked skin. Each time your thicc backside jiggled and teased with what was really between it, your eyes watching up at his. The feeling was oddly intimate as if he wasn’t exposing you to the train for voyeurism perverts alike. He pulled away once he had felt satisfied enough, dragging you to sit in his lap once he was sitting in a seat. He tucked your skirt into its band to prevent it from blocking from view, the sound of a few shutters sounded as some went to get a close up of your mostly trimmed cunt, the fact that both your cunt and asshole still had some on it was more arousing to the public eye. Which is what Dabi liked.

His hands found their way to unbuckle his pants and free his hard cock. If the sparse amount of women on the train were loathing not being in your position and only silently observing, they now were jealous. His cock slapped against your cunt once it was free from his tight pants, the hardness of it making it stick up proudly. He tries to hold back his pleasure of letting people his manhood as well, the Prince Albert piercings doing his already impressive cock justice in turning this debaucherous situation exciting.

He thrusts his hips upwards to rub his cock against your soaked labia, a deep moan sounding when he’s able to slip his cock to rub just ever so slightly between the cheeks of your ass. His hands were on your ass again, spreading them as he guided to take his length. Have already been able to take his cock during the late nights and sometimes early morning you had no problem doing so. Your heartbeat was faster as someone commented on how his dick was able to insert inside of you without any problem or hesitation, the onlookers wanting nothing more than to stick their girths deep inside your ass. Your hips worked like magic against his. His just about average-sized hands spread your cheeks to let people view without any obstruction to the view the passengers in the cart watching as they watched this generations of future heroes get dicked-down in a train cart. You had no qualms about letting out the sounds you wanted, your hands gripping onto his jacket as he bounced you against his hard cock. Dabi wrapped his arms around your waist to keep you in place and fuck you.

Your ass jiggled with each thrust against hips. The sound of your cunt swallowing up his cock as his silver studs massaged at your walls and rocked the moans out from your throat. It was almost a dream come true of what everyone had to witness at that very moment. Your words babbled out like an idiot, enjoying the way your body felt being watched as he used you like a cock sleeve. His hand held your ass cheek to help use you, the obnoxious sound of his skin slapping against yours and your sopping cunt fulling the train and the disgusting faint aroma you could sniff out if you were too close.

Dabi greatly got off to using you in public. Some sick way in the back of his head he enjoyed that people could see that you were his, even with how indirect it was. He longed for having you under his thumb, the thought and idea that one of the loser bystanders could do just that sent jolts of pleasure through him and motivated him to fuck you like this. Your mouth hung open as you could feel his tip press against your g-spot, your eyes rolling back and tongue hanging out of your mouth as trembled to keep yourself sane and grounded as he pounded into you like a hungry animal.

Still, those attempts were futile as he didn’t spare you a chance to even make you presentable, a small amount of drool that left the corner of your mouth signified just how gone you were, fully succumbing to the taboo of train groping and public fucking. Your body felt hot, the possibility of having your future ruined because of this was somehow exhilarating, the shallow comments of how much you were a ‘whore’ or a ‘slut’ made you tingle, loving every moment of being degraded and railed in public. You squeezed your walls around his thick and unrelenting cock, your skirt that was tucked still managed to stay in place as you bounced against him, the grip causing you to tense up.

He didn’t care to stop, ready to see you cum on his length and fill his seed deep inside you. It was almost as if he didn’t notice that you had, the only thing is when someone commented that white substance that came from you, the way your holes clenched and ground against his to finish. Your body was a toy for him as he used you, chasing his climax to meet yours. Thankfully your orgasm before had aided in the extra lubricant. He gave your skin a final pop before pressing his hips fully into your cunt, grunting as his cock twitched as he finished his load inside your walls. Your insides happily took in his length in cum, the excess amount making some spurt out as if a scene directly from hentai. I mean, technically this whole experience was a scene straight out of hentai.

“Look at the pretty little slut, full with my cum~” Dabi’s hands groped around your body before lifting you off his cock and spreading your cheeks to watch as the fluids dripped from your gaping cunt. He thought over his options, staring up at your dazed look, and brought you to hips down to rub his cock between your ass cheeks.

“What are you-” Your complaint trailed off once you could feel his tip slowly slip in, the rest of his length following in as well. Dabi gave you a playful kiss, having you take him fully until he bottomed out deep inside you.

“We’re going to give them part two~” He answers you curtly. His jaw clenched as he was able to keep down a groan of pleasure at how tight you wrapped around him. He barely gave you enough to get comfortable, the subtle feeling of his long and thicc cock thrusting into your ass was something you had only done a few times too little. Tears pricked at your eyes as you tried to adjust to his obnoxious length, closing your eyes as you were forced to have other people watch you get used to his cock.

As much as you tried to find it in yourself to be upset… you loved it. You like that you had an audience to watch Dabi stretch your ass out, not sparing you a moment to catch up or feel good. The feeling of him showing everyone on that train your practically virgin hole was being used for the third time in your life. This time, it wasn’t with the help of lube either. You clung onto him like an injured kitten, trying to relax yourself to allow him to use your backhole as much as he wanted.

“That’s it…” He encourages once you loosened up making it easier to slap his hips into yours better. Everyone got an eye full of your submission, wanting to touch and prod at you as well. You weren’t even sure you were deriving pleasure from this, the foreign feeling of his cock in your ass was such a feeling you couldn’t shake off but one that did urge sounds from you. You tried not to grow embarrassed when he pulled out to show off your gaping hole, the necessitous feeling of needing him to fill you up again crawling across your body. Your silent prayers were answered when he maneuvered you back onto his cock.

“I’ll have to use this one till it's just like your cunt~” He teases in your ear, rutting into you as he gets closer. His fingers dug painfully into your body, the hold on your side nearly knocking the wind out of you. He tilted his head to the side as his hips stuttered up into you and emptied into your second hole. You shifted uncomfortably at the feeling of his thick spurting into you was not a sensation you thought you would be experiencing for the day or truly ever. You grunted softly when you felt him pull out, his dick finally limp from the hormones that have been pumped out.

Dabi eyed your disheveled state before fixing what was left of your school uniform, keeping your pair of underwear with him as he shoves it in his pocket. He pushes you out of his lap making you stumble. Your hands come up to gather your stuff quickly as you realized your stop was approaching, have no liberty to be dazed. Your cheeks were hot as you tried to ignore the stares that both accompanied gazing under your shirt and skirt, gathering yourself to hold your shirt together and pull down your skirt. Your eyes followed the material that poked out his pocket, the train doors opening.

“I’ll give these to you next time we meet~”